Vines Intertwined: A History of Jews and Christians from the Babylonian Exile to the Advent of Islam

Vines Intertwined: A History of Jews and Christians from the Babylonian Exile to the Advent of Islam © 2010 by Hendrick...

Author: Leo Dupree Sandgren

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Vines Intertwined: A History of Jews and Christians from the Babylonian Exile to the Advent of Islam © 2010 by Hendrickson Publishers Marketing, LLC P. O. Box 3473 Peabody, Massachusetts 01961-3473 ISBN 978-1-59856-083-1 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Printed in the United States of America First Printing — April 2010 Scripture quotations marked nrsv are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked rsv are taken from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright 1952 (2d ed., 1971) by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Biblical quotations designated njb are from The New Jerusalem Bible, copyright 1985 by Darton, Longman, and Todd, Ltd., and Doubleday, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Used by permission. Hendrickson Publishers is strongly committed to environmentally responsible printing practices. The pages of this book were printed on 30% post consumer waste recycled stock using only soy or vegetable content inks. Cover Art: Millet and Grapevines. Roman mosaic, from the triclinium of the House of Millet at Oudna. 3rd CE. 113'9" x 10' (420 x 306 cm). Location: Musee National du Bardo, Tunis, Tunisia Photo Credit: Gilles Mermet / Art Resource, N.Y.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Sandgren, Leo Duprée. Vines intertwined : a history of Jews and Christians from the Babylonian exile to the Advent of Islam / by Leo Duprée Sandgren. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-59856-083-1 (alk. paper) 1. Jews—History—586 B.C.–70 A.D. 2. Jews—History—70–638. 3. Palestine—History— To 70 A.D. 4. Palestine—History—70–638. 5. Judaism—History—Talmudic period, 10–425. 6. Christianity and other religions—Judaism—History. 7. Judaism—Relations— Christianity—History. I. Title. DS121.7.S26 2010 261.2´609015—dc22 2009044835

Contents List of Maps

xix

Abbreviations

xxi

Introduction

1 Part One (640–201 b.c.e.)

Chapter 1: From Josiah to the Fall of Jerusalem (640–586 b.c.e.) 1.1 Ancient Near East 1.2 Josiah’s Reform 1.3 Decline of Judah 1.4 Jeremiah 1.5 The Neo-Babylonian Empire 1.6 Fall of Jerusalem Chapter 2: Exile and Return (586–500 b.c.e.) 2.1 Judah during the Exile 2.2 Exile in Babylon 2.3 Cyrus of Persia 2.4 Cambyses 2.5 Return under Zerubbabel Chapter 3: Restoration of Judah (500–400 b.c.e.) 3.1 Ezra the Scribe 3.2 Nehemiah the Governor 3.3 Jews of Babylon 3.4 Elephantiné Conflict Chapter 4: The Hellenistic Age Begins (400–301 b.c.e.) 4.1 Judah of the Silent Generations 4.2 Persia and Macedonia 4.3 Alexander of Macedonia 4.4 Diadochi

11 11 16 18 20 23 26 28 28 30 34 35 38 42 43 45 48 49 54 54 54 57 63

vi Vines Intertwined

Chapter 5: Ptolemaic Era (301–201 b.c.e.) 5.1 Ptolemy I Soter 5.2 Syrian and Punic Wars 5.3 The Diaspora Jews 5.4 High Priests 5.5 Tale of the Tobiads Synthesis of Part One: Religious Development—Foundations I (640–201 b.c.e.) S1.1 The Axial Age S1.1.1 Greek Transition S1.1.2 Hebrew Transition S1.2 Hebrew Scripture S1.2.1 Torah S1.2.2 Prophets S1.2.2.1 Sacred History S1.2.2.2 Divine Oracles S1.2.2.3 Writings: An Ongoing Process S1.3 Currents of Jewish Thought S1.3.1 Zadokite Priesthood S1.3.2 Apocalyptic (Enochian Tradition) S1.3.3 Jewish Wisdom Tradition S1.4 Diaspora Jews S1.4.1 Synagogue S1.4.2 Septuagint

67 67 68 71 72 73 76 76 76 79 80 81 82 82 83 86 86 87 87 90 93 94 94

Part Two (201 b.c.e.–14 c.e.) Chapter 6: The Maccabean Revolt (201–161 b.c.e.) 6.1 Mediterranean World 6.2 Seleucid Kingdom 6.3 The Polis of Jerusalem 6.4 Maccabean Revolt Chapter 7: Rise and Fall of the Hasmonean Kingdom (161–67 b.c.e.) 7.1 Mediterranean World 7.2 Jewish Diaspora 7.3 Hasmonean Dynasty 7.3.1 Jonathan the Hasmonean 7.3.2 Simon the Hasmonean 7.3.3 John Hyrcanus 7.3.4 Aristobulus I 7.3.5 Alexander Jannaeus 7.3.6 Salome Alexandra

99 99 99 102 107 112 112 113 114 118 120 122 125 125 127

Contents vii

Chapter 8: The Coming of Rome (67–27 b.c.e.) 8.1 Mediterranean World 8.2 End of the Hasmoneans 8.3 Rise of Herod Chapter 9: Pax Augusta and Herod the Great (27 b.c.e.–14 c.e.) 9.1 Mediterranean World: Pax Augusta 9.2 Herod: Expansion and Grandeur 9.3 Babylonians Zamaris and Hillel 9.4 Herod’s Finale 9.5 Aftermath of Herod 9.6 Roman Rule of Judaea 9.7 End of the Augustan Age Synthesis of Part Two: Religious Development—Foundations II (201 b.c.e.–14 c.e.) S2.1 Currents of Judaism S2.1.1 Wisdom S2.1.1.1 Tobit S2.1.1.2 Ben Sira S2.1.1.3 Letter of Aristeas S2.1.2 Eschatology: Visions for the Future S2.1.2.1 Enoch’s Dream Visions S2.1.2.2 Daniel 7–12 S2.1.2.3 Jubilees S2.1.2.4 Sibylline Oracles S2.1.3 Messiah S2.1.3.1 Psalms of Solomon S2.1.3.2 Dead Sea Scrolls S2.1.3.3 Parables of Enoch S2.1.3.4 Ruling Ideology S2.2 Jews and Jewishness in the Roman Empire S2.2.1 Hellenistic Rome and the Jews S2.2.2 Diaspora Jews and Jewishness S2.2.3 Judaean Associations S2.2.3.1 Sadducees S2.2.3.2 Pharisees S2.2.3.3 Essenes S2.2.3.4 Others S2.2.3.4.1 Fourth Philosophy S2.2.3.4.2 Samaritans S2.3 The People Called Israel S2.3.1 Common Practices S2.3.2 Essential Theology

129 129 129 138 143 143 143 151 152 154 156 157 158 158 158 158 159 160 161 161 162 164 164 166 167 169 170 170 171 171 173 176 176 177 178 180 180 181 181 183 183

viii Vines Intertwined

Part Three (14–138 c.e.) Chapter 10: Birth of the Nazarenes (14–37 c.e.) 10.1 Rome: Tiberius 10.2 The Jews 10.2.1 Roman Diaspora 10.2.2 Jews of Babylonia and Syria 10.2.3 Palestine 10.3 The Nazarenes 10.3.1 John the Baptist 10.3.2 Jesus of Nazareth 10.3.3 Birth of the Nazarenes 10.3.4 Paul of Tarsus

187 187 188 188 189 190 193 193 194 202 207

Chapter 11: A Troubled Diaspora for Jews and Jewish Believers (37–54 c.e.)

210

11.1 Rome 11.1.1 Caligula 11.1.2 Claudius 11.1.3 King Agrippa I 11.2 Jewish Diaspora 11.2.1 Conversion of King of Adiabene 11.2.2 Pharisee Influence in Babylonia? 11.2.3 Alexandria 11.2.3.1 Philo the Jew 11.2.3.2 Apion the Greco-Egyptian 11.2.3.3 Strife in Alexandria 11.2.4 Jews under Claudius 11.3 “Christian” Apostolic Era 11.3.1 Paul of Tarsus: Missionary to the Gentiles 11.3.2 Incident at Antioch

210 210 212 214 216 216 217 217 218 219 220 222 224 225 227

Chapter 12: The Great War (54–70 c.e.) 12.1 Rome 12.1.1 Nero 12.1.2 Judaea before the War 12.1.3 The Great War 12.2 Jews: The Last “Pharisees” 12.3 Christians: End of the Apostolic Era 12.3.1 Paul 12.3.2 Peter 12.3.3 James the Just 12.3.4 Persecution under Nero

231 231 231 233 236 242 244 244 247 248 249

Contents ix

Chapter 13: Jews and Christians without a Temple (70–117 c.e.) 13.1 Rome 13.1.1 Flavian Dynasty 13.1.2 Trajan and the Diaspora Revolt 13.2 Jews 13.2.1 Judaea and Rabbinic Origins 13.2.2 Johanan ben Zakkai and His Disciples 13.2.3 Gamaliel II and Yavneh 13.2.4 Jews of Babylonia 13.3 Christians 13.3.1 Eastern Congregations 13.3.2 Clement of Rome and the West 13.3.3 Persecution of Christians Chapter 14: Farewell Jerusalem: The Last Jewish War (117–138 c.e.) 14.1 Rome 14.1.1 Hadrian 14.1.2 Bar Kokhba Revolt 14.2 Jews 14.2.1 The Sages 14.2.2 Rabbinic Martyrs 14.2.3 The Other One 14.3 Christians 14.4 The Early Syncretistic Milieu Synthesis of Part Three: Jews and Christians I (14–138 c.e.) S3.1 Kingdom of God: Theocracy S3.1.1 Theocracy among Jews S3.1.1.1 God: Theology and Worship S3.1.1.2 Laws S3.1.1.3 Leaders S3.1.1.3.1 Kingship S3.1.1.3.2 Priesthood S3.1.1.3.3 Prophet S3.1.3.3.4 Synagogue Leaders S3.1.1.4 People of God S3.1.1.5 Land of Israel S3.1.2 Theocracy among Christians S3.1.2.1 God: Theology and Worship S3.1.2.2 Laws S3.1.2.3 Leaders S3.1.2.3.1 Jesus and His Followers S3.1.2.3.2 Apostolic-Era Church S3.1.2.3.3 Postapostolic-Era Church

250 250 250 253 256 257 259 261 265 266 266 266 267 271 271 271 273 277 277 281 282 283 285 286 286 287 287 288 291 291 292 293 294 295 298 298 298 300 304 304 305 307

x Vines Intertwined

S3.1.2.4 People of God S3.1.2.5 Land of Israel S3.2 Jews and Christians, and Jewish Believers S3.2.1 Paul the Jew S3.2.2 Matthew’s Sectarian Jewish Community S3.2.3 Ignatius and the “Judaizers” S3.3 Sabbath and Sunday S3.4 Gamaliel II and Birkat ha-Minim S3.5 Early Rabbinic Encounters with Christians

308 312 312 313 315 320 322 324 325

Part Four (138–312 c.e.) Chapter 15: Antonine Peace and the Struggles of Jews and Christians (138–192 c.e.) 15.1 Roman Empire 15.1.1 Antoninus Pius 15.1.2 Marcus Aurelius 15.1.3 Commodus 15.2 Jews 15.2.1 Palestine 15.2.2 Rabbinic Tradition History 15.2.2.1 Principal Rabbis 15.2.2.2 Rabbinic Power Struggles 15.3 Christians 15.3.1 Critics of Christians (and Jews) 15.3.2 The Christian Defense 15.3.3 The Internal Challenge Chapter 16: Severan Decay, Christian Growth, and the Glory of Judah the Prince (192–235 c.e.) 16.1 Roman Empire 16.1.1 Severus 16.1.2 Caracalla 16.1.3 Elagabalus 16.1.4 Severus Alexander 16.2 Jews 16.2.1 Jews of Palestine 16.2.2 Jews of Babylonia 16.3 Christians 16.3.1 Roman West 16.3.1.1 Clement of Alexandria 16.3.1.2 Tertullian 16.3.1.3 Hippolytus 16.3.2 Syrian East

331 331 331 332 333 334 334 335 336 338 340 342 344 346 351 351 351 353 354 354 355 355 360 362 362 363 364 366 366

Contents xi

Chapter 17: Roman Empire in Crisis and the Rise of Sasanian Persia (235–284 c.e.)

370

17.1 Rome and Persia 17.1.1 Rome 17.1.2 Sasanian Persia 17.1.3 Persian Religious Ideology 17.2 Jews 17.2.1 Babylonia 17.2.1.1 Exilarch and Rabbis 17.2.1.2 Rabbinic Foundations in Babylonia 17.2.2 Palestine 17.2.2.1 Patriarch and Rabbis 17.2.2.2 Poverty of Palestine 17.3 Christians 17.3.1 Roman Persecutions 17.3.2 Christian Intellectuals

370 370 373 374 377 377 377 379 382 382 385 387 387 389

Chapter 18: Diocletian and the Great Persecution of the Church (284–312 c.e.)

392

18.1 Rome and Persia 18.1.1 Rome: Diocletian and Maximian 18.1.2 Rise of Constantine 18.1.3 Sasanian Persia 18.2 Jews 18.2.1 Palestinian Jews 18.2.2 Babylonian Jews 18.2.2.1 School in Sura 18.2.2.2 School in Pumbedita 18.3 Christians 18.3.1 Monasticism 18.3.2 Hellenes versus Christians 18.3.2.1 Porphyry 18.3.2.2 Arnobius 18.3.3 The Great Persecution Synthesis of Part Four: Jews and Christians II (138–312 c.e.) S4.1 Material Culture S4.1.1 Christian and Jewish Symbols S4.1.2 Dura-Europos: Jews and Christians S4.2 Jewish-Christian Relations S4.2.1 Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho S4.2.2 Celsus and His Literary Jew S4.2.3 Origen and the Rabbis at Caesarea S4.2.4 Abbahu of Caesarea S4.2.5 “Two Nations in Your Womb”

392 392 397 399 399 399 401 402 403 404 404 405 405 407 408 412 412 412 414 416 417 421 423 427 429

xii Vines Intertwined

S4.3 Jewish Believers S4.3.1 Nazarenes S4.3.2 Ebionites S4.3.3 Jewish Believer (Ebionite?) Traditions S4.4 Passover for Jews, Jewish Believers, and Christians S4.4.1 Paschal Controversy S4.4.2 Melito of Sardis: On the Passover S4.4.3 Passover Haggadah

432 433 434 436 439 442 443 445

Part Five (312–455 c.e.) Chapter 19: Constantine and the Christian Empire (312–337 c.e.)

453

19.1 Rome and Persia 19.1.1 Roman Empire 19.1.1.1 Constantine’s Council at Nicaea 19.1.1.2 Final Years of Constantine and Helena’s True Cross 19.1.2 Persian Empire 19.2 Christians 19.2.1 Tolerance under Constantine 19.2.2 Eusebius and the Library of Caesarea 19.2.3 Christians in the East 19.3 Jews 19.3.1 Jews of Palestine 19.3.2 Jews of Persia

460 463 464 465 466 467 468 468 471

Chapter 20: Julian the Apostate: A Dilemma for Christians and Jews (337–364 c.e.)

473

20.1 Rome and Persia 20.1.1 Roman Empire 20.1.1.1 Heirs of Constantine 20.1.1.2 Julian the Apostate 20.1.2 Persian Empire 20.2 Christians 20.2.1 Constantius and the Arian Conflict 20.2.2 Christian Response to Julian 20.2.3 Gothic Christians 20.2.4 Christians in Persia and the East 20.3 Jews 20.3.1 Jews of Palestine and the West 20.3.1.1 Count Joseph of Tiberias 20.3.1.2 Julian and the Jews 20.3.2 Jews in Persia

453 453 455

473 473 473 475 477 478 478 480 481 482 483 483 485 486 489

Contents xiii

Chapter 21: Theodosius I: The Christianization of Hellenes and Jews (364–395 c.e.) 21.1 Rome and Persia 21.1.1 Roman Empire 21.1.1.1 West and East: Valentinian I and Valens 21.1.1.2 Theodosius I (“the Great”) 21.1.2 Persian Empire 21.2 Christians 21.2.1 Christians in the Roman West 21.2.2 Antioch and the Eastern Conflict 21.2.3 Council of Constantinople 21.2.4 Antioch: Hellenes, Christians, and Jews 21.2.5 Christians in the East 21.3 Jews 21.3.1 Jews of Palestine and the West 21.3.2 Jews in Persia Chapter 22: Fall of Rome, Doctors of the Church, and New Heights for the Patriarch and Exilarch (395–420 c.e.) 22.1 Rome and Persia 22.1.1 Roman Empire 22.1.2 Persian Empire 22.2 Christians 22.2.1 Christians in the West 22.2.1.1 Doctors of the Church 22.2.1.2 Ecclesiastical Controversies in the Roman Empire 22.2.1.2.1 Origenist Controversy 22.2.1.2.2 Augustine and His Opponents 22.2.2 Christians in the East 22.2.2.1 Church of Armenia 22.2.2.2 Church of the East (Persia) 22.3 Jews 22.3.1 Jews in the Roman Empire 22.3.1.1 Jews under Roman Imperial Legislation 22.3.1.2 Jews and Cyril of Alexandria 22.3.2 Jews of Persia Chapter 23: The Sun Sets in the West and the Demise of the Jewish Patriarchate (420–455 c.e.) 23.1 Rome and Persia 23.1.1 Roman Empire 23.1.1.1 Theodosius II 23.1.1.2 Valentinian III 23.1.2 Persian Empire

492 492 492 492 494 495 496 496 498 500 502 505 506 506 508 510 510 510 513 513 513 514 517 517 519 520 520 521 522 522 522 525 527 529 529 529 529 531 532

xiv Vines Intertwined

23.2 Christians 23.2.1 The Sun Sets in the West 23.2.2 Christological Storm 23.2.3 Edessa and the Nestorian Controversy 23.2.4 Christians of Persia: Independence and Persecution 23.3 Jews 23.3.1 Demise of the Patriarchate 23.3.2 Laws against the Jews 23.3.3 Jews of Persia Synthesis of Part Five: Jews and Christians III (312–455 c.e.) S5.1 Jews and Christians in the Christian Empire S5.1.1 Christian Triumph S5.1.2 Jewish Response S5.2 Christian Views of Jews S5.2.1 Syriac Christianity: Aphrahat and Ephrem Syrus S5.2.2 John Chrysostom S5.2.3 Jerome S5.2.4 Augustine S5.2.5 Philo Christianus S5.3 Jewish and Christian “Dialogue” S5.3.1 Christian “Dialogue” with Jews S5.3.1.1 Athanasius and Zacchaeus S5.3.1.2 Simon the Jew and Theophilus the Christian S5.3.1.3 Timothy the Christian and Aquila the Jew S5.3.1.4 Severus of Minorca S5.3.2 Rabbinic “Dialogue” with Christians S5.3.2.1 Heresy Debates S5.3.2.2 Oral Torah S5.3.2.3 Jesus S5.4 Jewish and Christian Magic

533 533 534 539 540 542 542 544 545 546 546 546 550 555 555 559 562 563 565 568 569 569 571 571 572 573 573 574 576 581

Part Six (455–640 c.e.) Chapter 24: End of the Old Roman Empire and the Persecution of Persian Jews (455–491 c.e.) 24.1 Rome and Persia 24.1.1 Old Roman Empire 24.1.2 Persian Empire 24.2 Christians 24.2.1 Christians in the Roman East 24.2.2 Barbarian Kingdoms 24.2.3 Christians in Persia

587 587 587 589 590 591 592 593

Contents xv

24.3 Jews 24.3.1 Jews in the West 24.3.2 Jews in Persia

595 595 597

Chapter 25: Religious Tolerance in the West and the Expansion of Christians and Jews in the East (491–526 c.e.)

599

25.1 Rome and Persia 25.1.1 Old Roman Empire 25.1.1.1 Byzantine Rule 25.1.1.2 Barbarian Kingdoms 25.1.2 Persian Empire 25.2 Christians 25.2.1 Roman “Papacy” 25.2.2 Roman Gaul 25.2.3 Christians of the East 25.2.3.1 Christians of Persia 25.2.3.2 Emerging Syrian Orthodox Church 25.3 Jews 25.3.1 Jews in Palestine and the West 25.3.2 Jews of Persia 25.3.3 Jews of Arabia

599 599 599 601 602 604 604 605 606 607 607 608 608 609 610

Chapter 26: Justinian’s Byzantine Rome and the Impact of Caesaropapism on Christians, Pagans, Samaritans, and Jews (526–565 c.e.) 613 26.1 Rome and Persia 26.1.1 Byzantine Rome 26.1.1.1 Early Years 26.1.1.2 Reconquest of the West 26.1.1.3 Plague, Pestilence, and War 26.1.2 Persian Empire 26.2 Christians 26.2.1 Caesaropapism 26.2.2 Syrian Orthodox Church 26.2.3 Christians of Persia 26.3 Jews 26.3.1 Legislation Concerning Jews 26.3.2 Justinian’s Novel 146 26.3.3 Samaritan Revolt 26.3.4 Jews in Persia Chapter 27: A Papal Throne for Christians and Jews (565–602 c.e.) 27.1 Rome and Persia 27.1.1 Byzantine Empire and the West 27.1.2 Persian Empire

613 613 614 615 618 619 622 623 624 626 628 628 630 631 632 633 633 633 636

xvi Vines Intertwined

27.2 Christians 27.2.1 The Papal Throne of Gregory I 27.2.2 Syrian Orthodox Church 27.2.3 Persian Church of the East 27.3 Jews 27.3.1 Jews of Byzantine Rome and the West 27.3.2 Jews of Persia Chapter 28: The Last Great War in Antiquity and the Advent of Islam (602–640 c.e.)

638 638 640 641 642 642 645 647

28.1 Rome and Persia 28.1.1 Byzantine Empire 28.1.2 Persian Invasion 28.1.3 Fall of Jerusalem in 614 28.1.4 Last Great War of Antiquity 28.1.5 Aftermath of the Great War 28.2 Muhammad and the Rise of Muslims 28.2.1 Jews of Medina and Muhammad 28.2.2 Christians of Najran and Muhammad 28.2.3 Muslim Conquest

647 647 648 649 651 655 657 658 660 660

Synthesis of Part Six: Jews and Christians IV (455–640 c.e.)

663

S6.1 Dispersion of Jews and Christians S6.2 Material Culture of Jews and Christians S6.3 Judaism and Christianity as Religions S6.3.1 Initiation and Worship S6.3.2 Liturgy and Holy Days S6.3.3 Exhortation S6.4 Jews and Christians from the Church Canons S6.5 Christian “Dialogues” with Jews S6.5.1 The Dialogue of Gregentius Archbishop of Taphar with Herban the Jew S6.5.2 Disputation of the Church and the Synagogue S6.5.3 The Teaching of Jacob Newly Baptized S6.6 Messianic Hope of Jews and Christians S6.7 Jewish and Christian Response to the Muslim Conquest

664 666 669 670 671 675 677 680 681 682 683 685 689

Epilogue

695

Appendix A: Jewish High Priests

703

Appendix B: Ptolemies

705

Appendix C: Seleucids

706

Appendix D: Roman Emperors

707

Contents xvii

Appendix E: Parthian Kings

710

Appendix F: Sasanian Kings

712

Appendix G: Principal Rabbinic Sages

714

Appendix H: Jewish Patriarchs and Exilarchs

718

Appendix I: Bishops and Patriarchs of Major Roman Cities

720

Appendix J: Ancient Historians

724

Endnotes

727

Notes to Part 1 Notes to Part 2 Notes to Part 3 Notes to Part 4 Notes to Part 5 Notes to Part 6 Notes to Epilogue Works Cited A. Selected Primary Literature B. Selected Secondary Literature Index

727 734 741 759 771 783 793 795 795 799 813

List of Maps

Assyrian and Babylonian Empires

12–13

The Empire of Persia

36–37

The Land of Israel/Palestine under the Hasmoneans The Roman Empire

115 132–33

Jerusalem in the Second Temple Period

145

The Land of Israel/Palestine in the First Century of the Common Era

213

The Eastern Mediterranean in the Period of Mishnah and Talmud

394–95

Jewish and Christian Communities in Late Antiquity

456–57

Abbreviations General a.m. b. b.c.e. BT c.e. ca. cf. DSS e.g. fl. i.e. lxx M mt n(n). no(s). nt ot PT Q R. T

anno mundi (precedes the date) ben (Hebrew for “son of ”), bar (Aramaic for “son of ”) before the Common Era Babylonian Talmud Common Era circa, about confer, compare Dead Sea Scrolls exempli gratia, for example floruit, active, flourished id est, that is Septuagint Mishnah Masoretic Text note(s) number(s) New Testament Old Testament Palestinian (Jerusalem) Talmud Qumran (when part of the DSS cataloging; see Dead Sea Scrolls below) Rabbi Tosefta

Ancient Texts Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) Gen Exod Lev

Genesis Exodus Leviticus

xxii Vines Intertwined

Num Deut Josh Judg Ruth 1–2 Sam 1–2 Kgs 1–2 Chr Ezra Neh Esth Job Ps(s) Prov Isa Jer Lam Ezek Dan Hos Joel Amos Obad Mic Zeph Hag Zech Mal

Numbers Deuteronomy Joshua Judges Ruth 1–2 Samuel 1–2 Kings 1–2 Chronicles Ezra Nehemiah Esther Job Psalm(s) Proverbs Isaiah Jeremiah Lamentations Ezekiel Daniel Hosea Joel Amos Obadiah Micah Zephaniah Haggai Zechariah Malachi

New Testament Matt Mark Luke John Acts Rom 1–2 Cor Gal Eph Phil Col 1–2 Thess 1–2 Tim Titus

Matthew Mark Luke John Acts Romans 1–2 Corinthians Galatians Ephesians Philippians Colossians 1–2 Thessalonians 1–2 Timothy Titus

Phlm Heb Jas 1–2 Pet 1–3 John Jude Rev

Abbreviations xxiii

Philemon Hebrews James 1–2 Peter 1–3 John Jude Revelation

Apocrypha and Septuagint 1–4 Macc Sir Wis

1–4 Maccabees Sirach/Ecclesiasticus/Ben Sira Wisdom of Solomon

Pseudepigrapha 1–3 En Jub. Pss. Sol. Sib. Or.

1–3 Enoch Jubilees Psalms of Solomon Sibyllene Oracles

Dead Sea Scrolls These works are referred to by the cave number in which they were found, followed by “Q”, followed by a number assigned to them, e.g., 4Q253 is fragment #253 found at Qumran in cave 4. Some of these fragments are of sufficient importance that they are provided a special name, e.g., 1QIsaa is the book of Isaiah, the first (hence marked with superscripted “a”) scroll of the book of Isaiah of several found at Qumran in cave 1. Reference to where one can find the original publication of a fragment can be found in Appendix F or the SBL Handbook of Style (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1999) and short descriptions of each can be found in chapter 3 of Craig A. Evans, Ancient Texts for New Testament Studies (Peabody, Mass: Hendrickson, 2005). CD

Damascus Document [Damascus Covenant] (medieval copies of earlier works found in the Cairo Genizah, earlier fragments of which were also found at Qumran, 4Q266–273, 5Q12, 6Q15)

Early Christian Writings Barn. 1 Clem. Did.

Epistle of Barnabas 1 Clement Didache

xxiv Vines Intertwined

Greek and Latin Works Ammianus Marcellinus Hist. Roman History Appian Hist. rom. Roman History Arrian Anab. Anabasis of Alexander (History of Alexander) Athenaeus of Naucratis The Deipnosophists (Learned Banqueters) Cicero Sest. Pro Sestio Nat. d. De natura deorum Flac. Pro Flacco Prov. cons. De provinciis consularibus Dio Cassius (also Cassius Dio, Dio) Hist. Roman History Diodorus Siculus Bibliotheca historica Diogenes Laertius Vitae philosophorum (Lives of Eminent Philosophers) Eusebius Hist. eccl. Ecclesiastical History Chron. Chronicon (Chronicle) Vit. Const. Vita Constantini (Life of Constantine) Praep. ev. Praeparatio evangelica (Preparation for the Gospel) Onom. Onomasticon Proof of the Gospel Teaching Herodotus Hist. Histories Josephus Ant. Antiquities Ag. Ap. Against Apion Life The Life J.W. Jewish War Julian Ep. Orations, Letters, Epigrams, Against the Galileans Laertius Lives Lives of Eminent Philosophers Libanius Ep. Epistles (from Autobiography and Selected Letters) Marcus Aurelius Med. Meditations

Abbreviations xxv

Pausanias Descr. Descriptions of Greece Philo of Alexandria Alleg. Interp. 1, 2, 3 Allegorical Interpretation 1, 2, 3 Confusion On the Confusion of Tongues Contempl. Life On the Contemplative Life Creation On the Creation of the World Dreams 1, 2 On Dreams 1, 2 Embassy On the Embassy to Gaius Flaccus Against Flaccus Good Person That Every Good Person Is Free Heir Who Is the Heir? Moses 1, 2 On the Life of Moses 1, 2 Names On the Change of Names Prelim. Studies On the Preliminary Studies QE 1, 2 Questions and Answers on Exodus 1, 2 QG 1, 2, 3, 4 Questions and Answers on Genesis 1, 2, 3, 4 Spec. Laws 1, 2, 3, 4 On the Special Laws 1, 2, 3, 4 Virtues On the Virtues

Journals and Organizations AB CIJ CPJ CRINT HTR HUCA JECS JJS JQR JSJ PG PO SBL WBC

Anchor Bible Corpus inscriptionum judaicarum. Edited by J. B. Frey. 2 vols. Rome, 1936–1952 Corpus papyrorum judaicarum. Edited by V. Tcherikover. 3 vols. Cambridge, 1957–1964 Compendia Rerum Iudaicarum ad Novum Testimentum Harvard Theolgical Review Hebrew Union College Annual Journal of Early Christian Studies Journal of Jewish Studies The Jewish Quarterly Review Journal for the Study of Judaism Patrilogia graeca. Edited by J.-P. Migne. 162 vols. Paris, 1844–1864 Patrilogia orientalis. Edited by R. Graffin; F. Nau, et al. 49 vols. Paris, 1904– Society of Biblical Literature Word Biblical Commentary

Introduction We live in the midst of a renaissance in Jewish and Christian studies. Scholars across the world are reevaluating the surviving textual witnesses while archaeologists explore and reconsider the sites of ancient synagogues, churches, cemeteries, and inscriptions. In the last half century, we have seen an upheaval in our understanding of Jewish history, from the biblical era to the advent of the medieval age. Our understanding of Jewish life in antiquity has undergone significant revision, and the relationship between Jews and Christians has shifted from a mother-daughter paradigm to one better described as siblings. The vast amount of information generated in books and articles for specialists and the general public often requires a broad grasp of the historical context of Jewish and Christian relations. The need for a coherent historical background to our interest was the catalyst for this book. It is a chronological walk through the history of Jews and Christians, generation by generation, concisely, but with sufficient examples from the ancients to provide a voice for each generation. A history of Jews and Christians in antiquity must begin somewhere. We begin in 640 b.c.e. It is true there were no Christians then, but neither were there Jews as we understand the term “Jew” today. Both Jew and Christian are primarily religious identities, with due deference to secular humanism as an option within a Jewish or Christian cultural context. In fact, we find the beginnings of Jewishness at the turn of the first century, just when Jewish believers in Jesus and the Gentile converts were making their own beginning. But the religions of Judaism and Christianity come later still, and it may be argued (as it is) that Judaism as a religion came into existence only in response to Christianity as a religion. Both had the same roots, however, so the most suitable starting point, it seemed to me, is the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile in Babylon, in the sixth century b.c.e., a milieu in which so much that constitutes Judaism and Christianity was spawned. The covenant renewal under King Josiah prior to the fall of Jerusalem was foundational for the future of biblical monotheism. The towering figure of the prophet Jeremiah in this generation is essential to each faith, and he is best seen in the context of his own times, not in a distant flashback. Ezra, Nehemiah, and the Maccabees are all important to Christians as well as Jews. If “siblings” is the correct relational term for Jews and Christians, then parentage applies to both and we should not skip lightly over the common ancestry.

2 Vines Intertwined

The second destruction of Jerusalem in 70 c.e., along with the loss of the second temple, marks a watershed in Jewish history, even if not everyone saw it that way at the time. After all, cities and temples were destroyed by earthquakes, and rebuilt, often more grand than before. The second temple had proved that even after war and exile, Jewish life could be restored. But the third temple (not counting Herod’s renovation) was never rebuilt, and at this point Jews and the nascent Christians each begin to develop a religion without the central focus of a temple and the rituals of worship that surround it. As a religion without a temple, Judaism begins simultaneously with Christianity. The two communities forged their templeless identities in plain sight of each other, and in continual dialogue, and as constant rivals for the title “people of God” or “true Israel.” We now recognize that Judaism and Christianity are what they are because of the other. Neither formed itself in isolation. Our history ends with the loss of Jerusalem to Muslim overlords. Although life in Palestine did not change drastically for the Jews who dwelt there, more than half the world’s Jews were soon under the hegemony of a different monotheistic empire, and nearly all the world’s Christians had to reckon with defeat at the hands of a rival monotheism; one that claimed, audaciously, to be a third and superior sibling, descended from Abraham through Ishmael. Over so long a history, 1280 years, there are changes in group identity among Jews and Christians, even though both see themselves in continuity with their ancestors, as do Jews and Christians today. “Continuity and change” is a theme basic to understanding history. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. Worldviews change, but being human is remarkably consistent. Sabbath observance is ubiquitous and enduring among Jews, a rule proven by the minor disagreements on how it ought to be observed and the occasional example of non-observance. Sabbath and Jewishness go hand in hand, and this demonstrates at the least a desire of Jews to retain their ties to a remote past embodied in figures like Abraham and Moses and the covenants God made with them. For that reason, most Christians chose the Sun’s day as the Christian sabbath in order to express the continuity and change of their own identity. Views about God, and the nature of the relationship between God and his people Israel, are subject to vast currents of thought, conceived in many fertile minds. That, too, is human nature. Theology is a mental exercise on the concept of God. And being human, we should expect a wide range of views. One mark of the contemporary study of Jews and Christians in antiquity is the recognition of the varieties of Jewish and Christian expression. In speaking of the varieties within Judaism and Christianity, we recognize from the outset that categorization of thought and interpretation, of ritual or symbol, is always a precarious affair; the more so when we are separated by centuries from subjects of our interest. The Greek “ism” applied to Jewish practice and belief, or the Latin “ity” of Christian practice and belief, is an attempt to organize and understand what we suppose to be coherent systems of religious and cultural life. Here is where an academic dispute over analysis begins. Some scholars prefer to isolate subsystems of Judaism and Christianity as Judaisms and Christianities. In so doing, they stress the differences of each system as an enclosed worldview. Essene

Introduction 3

Judaism is sufficiently different from Pharisaic Judaism, or Enochian from Rabbinic, or Hellenistic from Palestinian from Babylonian, to study each as a Judaism in its own right among a number of Judaisms. So also, Pauline, Petrine, Gnostic, Latin or Syrian Christianities. Others prefer to accent the common nature of Judaism or Christianity, pointing out that something essential and significant binds the “isms” and “ities” together which qualifies as a “Judaism” or a “Christianity” distinct from a Platonism or a Mazdeanism or a variety of polytheism. This approach favors the easily recognized pillars of belief and practice in Judaism or Christianity, the essence that inspires the differences, and it describes the differences as accidentals, or currents of Judaism and Christianity. There are difficulties and deficiencies to either approach, but that is the hazardous path of finite human thought, one that acknowledges the ancient lament, “Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.” It is easier to describe being a Jew, or being a Christian, than the isms to which they belonged. If a person is asked, “Are you a Jew?” we expect, under neutral circumstances, an answer without excessive deliberation. Over the centuries, while Jews spread out across the inhabitable world as merchants or mercenaries, slaves or immigrants, they sought out their kin and found refuge there. The label “Jew” was an oasis in the desert. Even though the meaning of the name Jew changes over the centuries, from an ethnic-geographic identity, to a religious identity, people knew they were Jews, and why. The same may be said for Christians. Non-Christians coined the name Christian in the first century c.e. to identify followers of Jesus who was called the Christ. It was initially a term of derision but later became a badge of honor, and by the second century the statement “I am a Christian” was the formal admission of a capital crime, for which execution often followed. Either way, people knew what, or who, they were. Asked to describe their Jewish or Christian practices, we would find all manner of variety. Asked to describe their beliefs, we would be overwhelmed. People tend to muddle along inarticulately with questions and answers about God, the universe, and the human predicament. That is perhaps the wisest course, but it frustrates the neat categories and labels of historians. A history is fashioned by the sources available. There are considerable lacunae in ancient Jewish historical sources and we must pass over decades of Jewish life in wistful silence. The three centuries between 200 b.c.e and 100 c.e. offer an abundance of literary and archaeological remains. After the first century c.e., when our most important historian, Josephus, ends his work, we are forced to glean from the corners of the field a potpourri of rabbinic anecdotes, rulings, and legends, and what church fathers, Christian historians, and the legal codes say about the “stiffnecked” Jews. Hellenistic and later secular historians contribute here and there, but they have little to offer on the Jews. A history of the Jews prior to Alexander the Great, and from the second century c.e. onward, when the stringent rules of critical historians are applied, is also sparse and tentative. It is a skeleton in need of sinews and flesh. The task of the historian is often a precarious one. There are two contemporary and competing approaches to historical investigation that require an introduction. One is called minimalism, the other maximalism.

4 Vines Intertwined

The approaches involve the question of what constitutes evidence, and the quest for certainty of knowledge. The minimalist applies the so-called hermeneutic of suspicion to our sources. Every witness has an ulterior motive, or may be outright lying, unless it can be proven otherwise. As in Jewish law, two witnesses are required; a single source is not a source. The minimalist has a high standard of proof and is reticent to affirm a statement about history unless it is certifiably factual. Minimalists tend to be bold revisionists of what we thought we knew by undermining previous assumptions and the gullible acceptance of testimonies. The maximalist leans in the other direction, though hopefully well shy of gullibility. Some call this approach a hermeneutic of trust. People (especially religious people?) are prone to tell the truth and not perpetrate falsehood that in their own times can be exposed. Memory may fail our witnesses, but it is an honest failure. After we have stripped away the miraculous, the accouterments of legend and hyperbole, our witnesses, even one, should be accepted, unless they can be proven in error. Burden of proof lies with the historian, not the hapless source. Acceptance of witnesses does not ensure we have understood them, but it qualifies their statements as evidence. Maximalists are keenly aware that life is always full, even if the evidence is thin, and a regulated historical imagination may add sinews and flesh to the skeleton, based on what we know of antiquity and humanity. Both types of historian otherwise use the tools of the discipline evenhandedly (in theory), to seek out what can be known, and that means what can be proved to our satisfaction. Satisfaction and knowledge, however, are precisely the dispute: to use the adage (and book subtitle) of Jacob Neusner, “What We Cannot Show, We Do Not Know.” It is a fact, however, that some people see things that others do not. Intuition and reading between the lines is a common practice in all forms of knowledge. The truth cannot be known from pottery shards and provable declarative statements only. Maximalists err on the side of credulity; minimalists err on the side of caricature. In the college of arts and sciences, some historians claim history is an art, not a science. Others say history is a science, but a soft science or a social science. There are few hard facts to history. Our knowledge is almost always approximate. Degrees of certainty or uncertainty are conventionally expressed by the words “probable,” “possible,” “unlikely,” “likely,” “almost certainly,” and so forth. But constantly admitting our uncertainty about something is unsatisfying to the reader when we know full well there is a real history to be had because life and “stuff ” really happened. Historical imagination is more satisfying than repetitive agnosticism. Even under ideal circumstances, however, the best we can achieve in historical description is verisimilitude, a verbal picture that is similar enough to the reality behind the elusive facts of history that it is accurate in impressionistic terms. The description of a person may be more or less accurate, hence verisimilar. This is true, incidentally, of all human descriptions of anything or anyone, but in contemporary life, we are able to verify a verdict or testimony or impression, whereas for the past, that is much more difficult. Do our ancient sources provide us with verisimilar accounts of people or events? Does a speech that Josephus places in the mouth of Agrippa II, whom he knew, approximate what Agrippa said or might have said? Do the traditions (excluding hyperbolic legends) about Rabbi Akiba approximate

Introduction 5

the man? Do the Gospels give us a portrait of Jesus that is verisimilar to what he said and did? We know they do not give precise accounts of what Jesus said and did because the authors portray the same incident differently. Memory and literary license are at work, in which each author differs. But when we have compared all the information about Akiba or Jesus, or any historical figure, it is often possible to arrive at a satisfying verisimilitude. A century ago, and earlier, the historians of Jewish antiquity were far too trustful of the ancient sources. Saul Lieberman, one of the founding fathers of modern historical research on Judaism in Roman antiquity, wrote in 1939, “The vast field of Talmudic literature fared ill at the hands of the historians. The historians were no Talmudists; the Talmudists were no historians.” Their works are still useful tomes of information, but few of their conclusions have withstood the withering gaze of modern criticism. One of the major upheavals in Jewish history over the past 50 years has been the demotion of the early rabbis from the ubiquitous leaders of the Jewish commonwealth to small groups of teachers and students cloistered in a few homes, mostly unknown to the vast majority of Jews and largely irrelevant to Jewish society during the first two centuries after the destruction of the temple in 70 c.e. The reason for this conclusion is that our non-rabbinic sources, including archaeology, do not seem to know the rabbis existed. They did exist, of course, but the former picture of the rabbis as the widely recognized leaders of the Jews, we now think, does not become an accurate picture until the Islamic age. Rabbinic traditions, however, are often the only source of information we have, and as an alternative to saying nothing, or very little, about the Jews, the rabbis have a place in history that is out of proportion to the reality of Jewish life. Rabbinic traditions preserve useful data about Jewish life, about what people believed, as well as facts and legends about the rabbis themselves. Even if the rabbis loom larger in history than warranted, the rabbinic portraits are central to Judaism through the medieval age and into the present because rabbis did become the Jewish leaders. What rabbinic tradition preserved as important became important over time to the wider community. A similar case may be made for the apostle Paul in Christianity. It is, of course, a fact of nearly all history that our literary sources are from the hands of the elite class, whether scholar or ruler. We must resurrect the hoi polloi from archaeological remains, condemnations of the elite, and the principle of plus ça change. Archaeology has come to the rescue in our efforts to balance the main historical narrative. The methodical survey of mounds in Israel over the past 40 years, the digs in a number of previously known sites, and the reevaluation of reports made in less critical times have helped a critical reading of the standard sources and the history we thought we knew. The discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls about 60 years ago opened the window to a group of Jews we hardly knew existed, and we still don’t know quite what to make of them. But that cache of documents warns us that some new discovery may pull the rug out from what we think we now know, and our most cautious and critical assessment of antiquity will become as naive and amusing as the histories written a century ago have become to us. Every history is but a partial and provisional history.

6 Vines Intertwined

In this history we lean toward a critical maximalism, with its judicious acceptance of testimony. We prefer to say something, admitting uncertainty, rather than say nothing. Errors will stem from credulity. The hermeneutic of trust lends a sympathetic ear to whoever is under scrutiny; that is, they are given the benefit of the doubt. That said, many a reader will be struck, and perhaps offended, by the critical analysis that is applied to a history so dear to one’s heart. That is natural, understandable, and alas, c’est la vie. History is history: the goal of knowing as best we can what happened in the past and extrapolating why it happened as it did. All histories are judged by a canon of scientific method. Honest history is the pursuit of truth, and we must let the chips fall where they may and bring to mind the words of an ancient and respected Jew, “The truth will set you free.” There are, to be sure, significant, and at times insurmountable, disagreements among specialists on various interpretations of the historical data. In general, I give a consensus view without explaining opposing views or why the consensus among scholars is what it is. Occasionally I do mention problems lying behind a view and give alternate views which may help put the history in a clearer light. At other times, though rarely, I take a minority position when I judge it closer to the reality we seek. In the endnotes I offer substantial support from primary sources for the evidence behind our history. On the other hand, a history of this scope simply cannot reference the vast secondary literature, much of it inaccessible to most readers, and what is offered is only a selection of important and recent contributions relevant to the topic at hand, or where I specifically make use of a rather specialized text. The inclusion of recent studies, without significant comment on my part, will allow the interested reader to pursue a topic and explore the bibliographic trails. This history is mostly descriptive of what happened; and it’s more a view of the forest than of the trees. The 28 chapters are divided into six parts, at the end of which we pause to review a synthesis of the religious development during the previous years, and offer analysis of the developments. The six centuries of the ancestry period of Jews and Christians are covered in the first two parts; then we begin the narrative of Jews and Christians over the next six centuries. The synthesis of the first six centuries describes the foundation context for the next six centuries in which Judaism and Christianity emerge. The synthesis of later centuries deals with the parallel growth and relationship of Jews and Christians and the difficult to define “Jewish-Christians.” For this outsider group, we follow the lead of a recent collection of studies under the supervision of Oskar Skarsaune, Jewish Believers in Jesus (Hendrickson, 2007), and call them Jewish believers for reasons that will become evident, and I think are justified. As we shall see, the modern appropriation of the “siblings” paradigm merely reclaims the earliest paradigm when both the rabbis and the church fathers seized upon the biblical prophecy of two nations within Rebekah’s womb to describe their rivalry. In so doing, they admitted that not only were Jews and Christians siblings, they were twins. It will be a matter of sibling dispute who is Esau and who is Jacob. Like the familial struggle of Esau and Jacob, the story of Jews and Christians often appears to be a bitter rivalry. That is undoubtedly true, but not the whole truth. Some Jews and some Christians, on occasion, tweaked their rivals, or even rioted

Introduction 7

and burned down synagogues or churches and slew each other. While it is difficult to gauge a latent animosity lying beneath the thin veneer of civilization in a given generation, there are sufficient signs to suggest that the vast majority of Jews and Christians passed easily between the two communities, shared common interests and the mutual needs for survival; in other words, daily business among the silent majority. They intermarried, visited the other’s place of worship, and converted to each other’s faith. When confronted by a common enemy, they fought side by side. Jews and Christians shared a passion for God and the passions of life, so that what unites them divides. The vine and vineyard is a most ancient biblical metaphor for Israel. Sang the psalmist: Thou didst bring a vine out of Egypt; thou didst drive out the nations and plant it. Thou didst clear the ground for it; it took deep root and filled the land. (Ps 80:8–9)

To sit under the vine and fig tree became a symbol of peace and prosperity. From the time of the Maccabean revolt onward, the vine became a favorite symbol on coins and pottery. The vine and vineyard remained a common theme in rabbinic and Christian sermons. If the metaphor of the vine be applied to the history of Jews and Christians, we may speak of “vines intertwined.” It is, perhaps, providential. This history is offered as a background to our own day. Parallels abound.

Part One

(640–201 b.c.e.)

Chapter 1

From Josiah to the Fall of Jerusalem (640–586 b.c.e.)

1.1 Ancient Near East The earth was already white with age when Josiah came to the throne of Judah at the tender age of eight. In distant Boeothia, Hesiod the shepherd had written his poem Theogony, on the origin and genealogy of the gods. Before the Greeks could read or write, the ancestral epic verse Enuma Elish, “When on high,” recalled the creation of the cosmos out of strife among the gods. Two millennia earlier in ancient Sumer, scribes had compiled the reigns of Sumerian kings since kingship descended from the heavens. The shortest reign of these demigods numbered 18,600 years, the longest 43,200, and together they accounted for 241,000 years. In Egypt, priests kept records and counted more than 330 human generations since the first king of Egypt, which, by the standard reckoning of three generations for every hundred years, made the kingship of Egypt more than 11,000 years old. Before that, gods ruled Egypt, each in their own generation, the last of whom was Horus.1 Peoples in the Indus river valley and across the steppes of China had endured for millennia. The Judaeans, like their new king Josiah, were young by comparison and counted back a mere 30 generations to their founder Abraham. Beyond him, they reckoned ten generations to Noah and the flood, and from Noah, ten generations further back to the first man, Adam, the son of God. Archaeology knows only of a long Stone Age, culminating in the Neolithic era around 8000 b.c.e. and followed by the Chalcolithic (4000), the Early Bronze (3500), Middle Bronze (2000), Late Bronze (1500), and Iron Age (1000). As the residue of the Ice Age (10,000) retreated and left fertile lands to human habitation, the Neolithic peoples flourished in Europe, Asia, Africa, and the Americas; that is, across the inhabitable earth. Animals were domesticated, crops were sown, and pottery was invented (ca. 6000) to store and transport grain. Tribes and clans banded together for trade and protection, and social hierarchies emerged. From apparent origins in the Tigris-Euphrates basin, writing was invented to keep records of trade (ca. 3300), and the wheel facilitated transportation of goods. Civilization, as we define it, was born. Territorial states, early empires, arose in the late Middle Bronze Age. The first king of kings in recorded memory was Sargon of Akkad (near or beneath Baghdad) around the year 2300 b.c.e. Sargon’s brief dynasty was eventually followed

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14 Vines Intertwined

by Babylon, whose great king, Hammurabi (ca. 1781–1712), established his imperial law code. In this age, the Hyksos invaded Egypt (ca. 1782–1630) and set up their own dynasty. The Hittites founded their kingdom across eastern Asia Minor, while the Minoans of Crete emerged with their own distinct civilization that would spread north to the early Greeks dwelling in the Peloponnese. The Hittites conquered Babylon (ca. 1595), and after they retreated with their loot, one of the obscure nomadic peoples who lived in the valley, the Kassites, assumed power and would rule for the next 450 years. There follows a dearth in the annals of the ancient Near East, often called a dark age. For three centuries, independent city-states dwelt in the relative obscurity of regional competition and increased awareness of economic interdependence: Mittani, Babylonia, Assyria, Hatti, and Egypt. During this time, the Hurrians of north Mesopotamia may have been the first warriors to harness the horse to a chariot and introduce infantry warfare.2 The thirteenth century was a time of upheaval and change. Some catastrophe in the Aegean islands caused many early Greeks to spread out along the eastern shores of the Mediterranean. It is at this time, in the Late Bronze Age, that the legendary siege of Troy by Agamemnon is set, though archaeology, despite early claims, has been unable to confirm any such battle. The coastal lands from the Nile delta north to the Orontes River in Syria were under the hegemony of Egypt, although the new Hittite kingdom of eastern Anatolia pressed its frontier south and had taken the city of Kadesh in 1340. Rameses II (1279–1213) of Egypt and Hattusili III, king of the Hittites, fought a famous but inconclusive battle for Kadesh in 1259. The weakened powers agreed to a peace treaty. Rameses II used the Sea Peoples in his battle against Hattusili III but soon found himself fighting against the Sea Peoples, who took advantage of the stalemate between the great kingdoms. The son of Rameses II, Merneptah (1213–1204), defended his lands against an invasion of the Sea Peoples, and although he retained the land of the Canaanites as a tributary, he could not prevent the Sea Peoples from settling. He erected a stele to commemorate his victories in which the “people of Israel” first appears in stone.3 Rameses III (1187–1156) granted the Sea Peoples rights to settle on the coast—his inscription is the first to call them Philistines—and the land they settled became known to the Greeks as Palestine. Over the next three centuries, the old kingdoms vied for scraps of territory until Assyria rose into a new empire. Meanwhile, in the hinterlands of Palestine, the diverse peoples forged their own small vassal fiefdoms. The people of Israel coalesced briefly under leaders known only from the narrative of the Hebrew Scriptures in the glorified figures of King David (ca. 1000–961) and his son Solomon (ca. 961–922). This unified coalition of tribes soon split into the kingdom of Israel in the north and the kingdom of Judah in the south, centered around the ancient Canaanite city of Jerusalem. In the north, King Omri (ca. 869–850) built his city of Samaria and was numbered among the greater kings of the region. By 853, King Shalmaneser III of Assyria defeated a western coalition of kingdoms and emerged as the new great power. His descendants ruled Mesopotamia, including Babylon, and by 722 Shalmaneser V and his son Sargon II reached as far as the kingdom of Israel. They destroyed Samaria and removed its elite to the nether regions of


northeastern Mesopotamia.4 Sargon’s son, Sennacherib, threatened the kingdom of Judah in 701, but a plague prevented him from taking the land, and he departed, leaving King Hezekiah of Judah “shut up like a bird in a cage.” In 640, Amon, king of Judah, after ruling but 2 years, was assassinated by his courtiers, perhaps an anti-Assyrian faction or a party favoring the religious reforms of Hezekiah. The people of the land, however, rose up against the coup d’état, executed the assassins, and made his young son Josiah king. Until the age of majority at twenty years, Josiah reigned as a figurehead king under a regency of councilors and the queen mother, who bore responsibility to protect the small highland kingdom within the vast Assyrian Empire and negotiate the uncertain steps as the empire of Ashurbanipal, Lord of Kings, crumbled around them.5 The kingdom Josiah inherited had been a vassal kingdom to Assyria since the days of his great-grandfather Hezekiah. With the fall of the northern kingdom of Israel, Jerusalem became the central place of worship not only of Yahweh but also for all the many cults that flourished in Judah. The population of Judah swelled with refugees from the north and reached perhaps 100,000. Hezekiah had fortified Jerusalem with towers and a new wall, and, in preparation for the siege of Sennacherib (701), dug a tunnel connecting the spring of Gihon to the pool of Siloam inside the city. Manasseh also fortified Jerusalem and expanded its size with a new outer wall, and the long and peaceful reign of Manasseh allowed for economic growth. The city expanded to population of some 25,000. During the reign of Manasseh (687–642), Ashurbanipal (668–627) defeated his foes at all corners of his empire and brought Assyria to its territorial zenith. After a century of wars between Assyria and Egypt, Ashurbanipal had defeated the Kushite pharaoh Tenuatamun and placed Psamtik (Psammetichus I, 664–610) on the throne of Egypt, inaugurating the twenty-sixth (Saite) dynasty. But by 655, Psamtik consolidated his power by uniting the princes of Egypt and became more of an independent ally of Assyria than a vassal kingdom. At the other end of the Fertile Crescent, Shamashshumaukin, king of Babylon and brother of Ashurbanipal, rebelled with the help of neighboring Elam in 652, but within 4 years he surrendered and perished in his burning palace. Ashurbanipal set the more loyal Kandalanu (647–627) on the throne of Babylonia and hunted down the Elamites, feeding their corpses “to the dogs, the swine, the wolves, the vultures, the birds of heaven and the fish of the deep.”6 After a few years of uneasy peace, Elamites again supported anti-Assyrian movement by the Chaldeans. Ashurbanipal responded with devastation. He systematically destroyed Elam’s cities, and upon capturing the capital of Susa, he looted it, desecrated the temples and tombs, and carried off the deities to Assyria. This occurred during the first year of Josiah’s reign and served as a reminder of the wrath of Assyria. Sin-shar-iskun succeeded Ashurbanipal in 627 as the undisputed king of Assyria. In the same year, the king of Babylon, Kandalanu, disappears from the records. The following year, Nabopolassar, whom the Greek historians called a Chaldean, declared himself king of Babylon. For the next decade, Nabopolassar strengthened his position while Assyrian power waned. Sin-shar-iskun launched a campaign against Babylonia in 623, but one of his own generals rebelled, attacked


the capital, and temporarily held control. This obscure event forced Sin-shar-iskun to break off his attack on Babylonia and begin withdrawing forces from the western empire. The retreat marks the beginning of the end of Assyria, as subject kingdoms across the empire mobilized to regain what territory they could. Among these kingdoms was Judah.

1.2 Josiah’s Reform The following year, 622, Josiah began his religious reform in Jerusalem. While Babylonia, soon allied with the Medes of northern Iran, pressured Assyria in the east, and Psamtik, as an independent ally, advanced along the Syria-Palestine coast in order to prevent further rebellions against Assyria, Josiah exerted his own control over the highlands of Palestine. A strong national unity required a strong central temple cult. As Assyria collapsed, the surrounding kingdoms, led by Psamtik of Egypt and Nabopolassar of Babylonia, fostered a renaissance of antiquity. Egypt returned to the glory days of its Old Kingdom in art and religion. Sculptures and reliefs imitated those of two millennia past, and excerpts from the Pyramid Texts were inscribed on tombs. Temples were renewed through gifts of land, and everywhere people revived animal worship. Nabopolassar and his successors also lifted up Marduk, the patron deity of Babylon, and revived his cult through magnificent shrines. The widespread revival of national gods facilitated, in the spirit of the times, the push to restore the temple of Yahweh as the patron god of Judah, but we cannot discount the voice of the people and the prophets that had been calling for a return to the covenant with Yahweh for two centuries. The desire of Josiah to expand his territory into Samaria and the former kingdom of Israel was a pragmatic move that any sovereign would take, but kings conquered all territory with the support of the gods. Ashurbanipal, which means “Ashur is the creator of an heir,” attributed his victory over Egypt to the patronage of Ashur and his consort Ishtar. Josiah would do no less. Josiah had likely been reared to respect a variety of gods, including the old Canaanite gods, as his father and grandfather, Manasseh, had done, in keeping with the diverse religious sentiments in the land of Judah and the requirements of vassalage to Ashurbanipal. But Samaria was by now a polyglot region. Sargon, after removing the elites from Israel, colonized the land with immigrants from Media; his successor, Esarhaddon, did as well. Ashurbanipal added to the mélange by transplanting conquered peoples from Elam and Babylonia to Samaria.7 Over the next century, each people worshiped its god throughout Palestine, including Judah and Jerusalem. Indeed, if we may believe the description of Josiah’s reform, a great many cultic rituals went on in the house of Yahweh. Nevertheless, Josiah did make the cult of Yahweh his state religion, and those who eventually wrote the history of Israel, known to modern scholars as the Deuteronomistic Historian, laud Josiah as the greatest king of Israel, the embodiment of the true covenant people to Yahweh, and the righteous king ruling on Yahweh’s behalf. Our biblical sources, 2 Kgs 22–23 and 2 Chr 34–35, written one or two centuries apart, disagree on the sequence of events in Josiah’s reform but agree on the


substance. Neither is concerned with history as it happened but only as it ought to be remembered; that is, as sacred story. The older account in 2 Kings begins with Josiah’s involvement in the repairs on the house of Yahweh. During the course of the repair, a scroll, identified as the Book of the Law, was discovered by the high priest Hilkiah. The chief secretary read the book to the king. “And when the king heard the words of the book of the law, he rent his clothes.” What was the Book of the Law, and what did it contain? If the incident is not mere fiction, a discovery legend (Auffindungslegende) designed to legitimate a later literary creation, the scroll was probably an original version of the present biblical book of Deuteronomy. Even the amplified version that has come down to us fits in well with the literary works of the seventh century, showing certain affinities to early Greek literature with its hortatory speeches, and the entire covenant bears remarkable resemblance to the Assyrian vassal treaties, with the prescribed blessings and curses. Modern archaeology has discovered that it is just now, in the late kingdom of Judah, literacy rises to a national level capable of producing and appreciating a foundational document of this caliber.8 Even if this Book of the Law was genuinely discovered by temple workers, unbeknown to the high priest or the king, its author or authors most likely lived and wrote during the reigns of Manasseh, Amon, or Josiah. And its discovery may well have been carefully timed. The origin of the Book of the Law will likely retain its enigmatic shroud, but Josiah’s performance of the ancient grief ritual, the rending of one’s garment, was an appropriate response to the covenant requirements of Deuteronomy, as well as the curses pronounced on the people that break the covenant. Josiah immediately consulted a court prophetess of Yahweh, Huldah, whose responsibility was to deliver oracles to the king. This she did. On the one hand, she declared, all the curses in the book would indeed come upon Judah because they had abandoned the worship of Yahweh. On the other hand, because Josiah had demonstrated his remorse, Yahweh would permit him to go to his grave in peace.9 Josiah wasted no time in implementing his sweeping reform. He presided over a covenant renewal ceremony in the presence of the people of Jerusalem, the priests of Yahweh, and the prophets, perhaps to include Nahum, Zephaniah, and Jeremiah, though none of the scowling prophets mentions the king’s reform. Josiah had the book read so that everyone understood the basis for the actions that were to follow. The king then, standing on the dais, bound himself by the covenant before Yahweh, to follow Yahweh, to keep his commandments, decrees and laws with all his heart and soul, and to carry out the terms of the covenant as written in this book. All the people pledged their allegiance to the covenant.10

He then ordered the temple and its precincts purged of all idolatrous worship. They removed the vessels made for Baal, for Asherah, and for all the host of heaven; the wooden cult symbol of Asherah, who was the ancient Canaanite consort of the chief god El and became the consort of Yahweh when the god El merged with the god Yahweh in Israelite religion. The king shut down the chambers of cult prostitutes, male and perhaps female, who performed fertility rites. He ordered that the high


places around Jerusalem, ancient sites dedicated by King Solomon and devoted to Ashtoreth of the Sidonians, Chemosh of Moab, and Milcom of the Ammonites, should be destroyed and the places defiled with human bones, so the sacred space became useless. Josiah extended his reform north. He took control of Bethel in Samaria and destroyed the ancient rival shrine that had been reestablished under Assyrian auspices after the fall of the northern kingdom of Israel. The account says Josiah desecrated the sanctuaries throughout Samaria, but archaeology does not support the claim, and it would have been difficult to do within a province of Assyria mostly populated by Gentiles. The final act of the reform was the first centralized celebration of Passover in Jerusalem. The Passover had been celebrated in the past as a domestic festival, according to the prescription of Exod 12:1–13:16. But in the Book of the Law, if indeed it is the core of Deuteronomy, it is a pilgrimage feast (16:1–8, 16), which must be celebrated at the place that Yahweh would choose, that is, in Jerusalem. This innovation implemented by Josiah brought the state religion of Judah under the king’s watchful eye.

1.3 Decline of Judah Of the rest of Josiah’s 31-year reign we know nothing. Not even the later anonymous historian known to modern readers as the Chronicler fills in the reign of the righteous king. We know that Assyria continued its rapid decline, and Egypt moved into Syria-Palestine to reclaim its rightful dominion and to keep watch on the growing threat of the east. Psamtik was primarily interested in controlling the coastal trade route and the fertile plains of Palestine alongside the highlands of Judah and into the Jezreel valley of Samaria. The king of Egypt declared on an inscription that he controlled the land of Syria as far as Phoenicia.11 Egypt was not concerned with the highlands of Judah, and we may infer that Josiah extended his control over the territory surrounding Judah as much as he could, which would have been very little, and restricted to the northern highlands of Samaria. But what Josiah could do without constraint was to commission a national history, and it is probable that scribes compiled the initial history known as the former prophets, the books of Joshua through 2 Kings, during his reign, to be revised and finished in the Babylonian exile. Within 2 years of Josiah’s reform, Assyria lost all control of Babylonia. Three years later, Nabopolassar invaded Assyria, and the following year, the Medes made an alliance with Babylonia against Assyria, so that by 615 the ancient city of Asshur fell to the Medes, and by 612 the mighty city of Nineveh (modern Mosul, Iraq) fell to a coalition of the Medes, the Babylonians, and the Scythians. The Babylonian Chronicle recalls the victory: “On that same day Sin-Shar-ishkun, the Assyrian king, perished in the flames. They carried off much spoil from the city and temple-area and turned the city into a ruin-mound and heap of debris.”12 Nahum, the prophet from Judah, declared (3:1–7):

From Josiah to the Fall of Jerusalem 19 Woe to the bloody city, all full of lies and booty—no end to the plunder! The crack of whip, and rumble of wheel, galloping horse and bounding chariot! Horsemen charging, flashing sword and glittering spear, hosts of slain, heaps of corpses, dead bodies without end—they stumble over the bodies! . . . And all who look on you will shrink from you and say, Wasted is Nineveh; who will bemoan her? whence shall I seek comforters for her?

And Zephaniah mocked her (2:15): This is the exultant city that dwelt secure, that said to herself, “I am and there is none else.” What a desolation she has become, a lair for wild beasts! Every one who passes by her hisses and shakes his fist.

In 610, Harran, the reserve fortress of Assyria, fell to the Babylonians. In that year, the aged king of Egypt, Psamtik, also died, and his son Necho II ascended the seat of Pharaoh. By now, Egypt was more concerned to prop up its ancient foe Assyria against the looming might of Babylon, and in 609 Necho II marched north to lend support to Assur-uballit II at his last retreat in northern Syria. On the way, Necho demanded oaths of loyalty from Egypt’s vassal kings, that is, the former vassals of Ashurbanipal who became the vassals of Psamtik. Oaths of loyalty were dissolved upon the death of a monarch and had to be renewed. It is in this context that we should read the stark and enigmatic verdict of the Deuteronomistic Historian: “In his days Pharaoh Necho king of Egypt went up to the king of Assyria to the river Euphrates. King Josiah went to meet him; and Pharaoh Necho slew him at Megiddo, when he saw him” (2 Kgs 23:29). We can only surmise the reason why Necho executed Josiah, king of Judah. The Chronicler smoothed over the dilemma, explaining that Josiah went out to battle Necho near Megiddo in the Jezreel Valley. Necho informed Josiah that he was on a mission from Yahweh, and not against Josiah, but Josiah would not listen, and in the battle that ensued, Josiah was shot by an archer and taken back to Jerusalem, where he died. The Chronicler’s good intentions notwithstanding, to confront Necho in an open field battle would have been insanity; nor does the Chronicles account explain why the Pharaoh of Egypt had prophetic powers to know the will of Yahweh, but Yahweh’s anointed had none. If there was a method to Josiah’s madness, he may have attempted to delay the advance of Egypt in support of Assyria against the rise of Babylon. Perhaps Josiah had already begun to favor the Babylonians against Assyria and dared to refuse the oath of loyalty, or he had encroached too far into Samaria, which Necho felt belonged to him. For whatever reason, Necho distrusted Josiah, and in order to demonstrate his sovereignty over the land of Judah, he executed Josiah without further ado and marched on to Syria. The “people of the land,” influential elders or perhaps military leaders, anointed Josiah’s son, Shallum, as king of Judah. Shallum was not the eldest son of Josiah but apparently the most popular among the people of the land, those who were loyal to Yahweh. He took as his throne name Jehoahaz, “Yahweh has seized,” and reigned 3 months. Pharaoh Necho had set up his court in the city of Riblah, along the Orontes River in Syria. He summoned the 23-year-old Jehoahaz and deposed him. The cause of this dethronement will be found in the politics of empire, a


struggle between the elite of Judah who favored the Egyptians and those more nationalistic who favored the distant Babylonians. Not everyone in Jerusalem had wanted Jehoahaz to succeed Josiah, and it appears that Jehoahaz was too much like his father, too anti-Egypt. In his place Necho installed his older brother Eliakim, who was likely more favorable to Egyptian hegemony, and to assuage the nationalists, Necho changed his name Eliakim, “El establishes” to Jehoiakim, “Yahweh establishes.” Necho exiled Jehoahaz to Egypt, where he died. Jehoiakim paid a heavy tribute to Necho and found it necessary to exact the wealth from the people by force. Our historian adds that he “did what was evil in the sight of Yahweh, according to all that his fathers had done”; that is, he reversed the religious reforms of his father, Josiah. The reversal may have been at the direction of Necho, who would follow the divide-and-conquer philosophy of any successful monarch to remove the dominance of a national God but also to appease the many people who worshiped Baal, Asherah, and other gods. Jerusalem still kept an elite class descended from the original Jebusites, and many others drawn to the city from a diverse background. A strong king might impose the cult of Yahweh on a significant portion of an unwilling populace, but a weak king cannot. Jehoiakim ruled 9 years.

1.4 Jeremiah Here we leave behind the kings of Judah and turn to its prophets. If the birth of the Jewish covenant people may be laid in the lap of a single person, this must be Jeremiah (ca. 640–560). Around the year that Josiah came to the throne of Judah, Jeremiah, son of Hilkiah, a priest of the lineage of Abiathar, was born in Anathoth, a village surrounded by almond groves set on a hill a half hour’s walk northeast of Jerusalem. By his own testimony, he believed Yahweh called him from the womb to be a prophet. The call came to Jeremiah in the thirteenth year of Josiah (627): The word of Yahweh came to me, saying: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you came to birth I consecrated you; I appointed you as prophet to the nations.” I then said, “Ah, ah, ah, Lord Yahweh; you see, I do not know how to speak: I am only a child!” But Yahweh replied, “Do not say, ‘I am only a child,’ for you must go to all to whom I send you and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of confronting them, for I am with you to rescue you, Yahweh declares.” Then Yahweh stretched out his hand and touched my mouth, and Yahweh said to me: “There! I have put my words into your mouth. Look, today I have set you over the nations and kingdoms, to uproot and to knock down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.”13

Jeremiah was perhaps struck at an early age by the tradition of the legendary prophet Samuel, who was also called as a boy to prophesy and who served in his early years at the sanctuary of Shiloh. Jeremiah traced his priestly lineage back to Abiathar, the priest to King David, who later supported Adonijah against Solomon for the throne and was therefore exiled by Solomon to Anathoth.14 Abiathar was a descendant of the priest Eli, and Jeremiah may have known a lineage that extended back to “Aaron and Moses.” The deep roots of such distinguished heritage may have permeated his childhood and fed his sense of moment, heir to Moses and Samuel.


As a priest, he had access to scribal schools that were flourishing during the pax Assyriaca of the seventh century, and he had close relations with Shaphan, the scribe who read the Book of the Law to Josiah, so Jeremiah likely studied under him, for when he began his prophetic career, his poetic oracles show a fairly high degree of rhetorical skill.15 Although prophets by their nature do not easily fit into the common nature of humanity, they do provide us with the ardent devotion to Yahweh that will have filled the hearts of those, throughout the history of Israel, who were dedicated to Yahweh above all other gods. Jeremiah does not say he embraced the call immediately, but when the Book of the Law was found in the temple, Jeremiah saw this as the fulfillment of Yahweh’s promise to “put my words in your mouth” (1:9); Jeremiah responded, “When your words came, I devoured them: your word was my delight and the joy of my heart; for I was called by your Name, Yahweh, God Sabaoth” (15:16 njb). Indeed, the promise at his calling, to put words in his mouth, echoes the promise made by Yahweh to Moses, “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their brethren; and I will put my words in his mouth, and he shall speak to them all that I command him” (Deut 18:18). At about age eighteen Jeremiah believed he was the prophet like Moses, summoned forth from the womb by Yahweh. This call defined his life, and though he often complained, he never wavered. He was forbidden to take a wife or have children as a symbol of the woe to come.16 When Jeremiah stepped onto the stage of history, he joined a reform movement comprised of the king, the elders, priests, scribes, other prophets, and all those who would worship only Yahweh. Yet he remained aloof, perhaps skeptical of the depth of the reform among the leaders or that the cultic reform was not followed by sufficient moral and social reform to satisfy Yahweh. He supported the centralization of the worship of Yahweh and even summoned the Israelites of the northern kingdom exiled by Assyria to return.17 But the oracle of Huldah set a somber tone, that judgment was coming, and the reform of Josiah would only buy a little time. He may have been skeptical of the entire temple service, because Josiah did not go to his grave in peace as Huldah had prophesied. His early preaching followed in the footsteps of Israel’s prophets of moral reform. Like Hosea, he compared the covenant with the love of marriage between Yahweh and his people and the harlotry they played.18 He called for social justice and “circumcision of the heart” (4:4). In a clear reference to the Book of the Law, he speaks for Yahweh: “Cursed be the man who does not heed the words of this covenant which I commanded your fathers when I brought them out of the land of Egypt” (11:3–4). For some years he preached in the towns and cities of Judah, calling on all to return to the ancient covenant of Moses, but he found his voice falling on deaf ears. Jeremiah’s prophetic activity during the reign of Josiah is summed up in a command from Yahweh: Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Give heed to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not give heed’.19


Prophets of Yahweh had never been a popular lot, and Jeremiah did nothing to tarnish the reputation. He cast his barbs at all classes of society, wherever the word of Yahweh pointed, and made enemies at every turn. By supporting the movement to a central shrine, the call for all to come up to Zion (an ancient name for Jerusalem and its faithful people), local shrines such as were at Anathoth would have suffered a loss of pilgrims, and this may account for the anger of his village and their desire to kill him.20 He opposed certain scribes and sages, perhaps those of the central sanctuary, who were now compiling the “Torah of Yahweh,” and charged “the false pen of the scribes has made it into a lie” (8:8–9). It is one of the curiosities of the Deuteronomistic History that Jeremiah is nowhere mentioned, and this fact may point to deep divisions between the prophet and the reform movement. Whatever Jeremiah had thought about the reform movement during the reign of Josiah, the events that transpired upon the king’s death, the imprisonment of people’s favorite, Jehoahaz, and the installation of Jehoakim by Pharaoh Necho, rendered the brief attempt at covenant renewal irrelevant. At the start of Jehoiakim’s reign, Jeremiah stood in the court of the temple of Yahweh and delivered an oracle of national catastrophe to all the cities of Judah: Say to them, “Yahweh says this: If you will not listen to me and follow my Law which I have given you, and pay attention to the words of my servants the prophets whom I have never tired of sending to you, although you never have paid attention, I shall treat this Temple as I treated Shiloh, and make this city a curse for all the nations of the world.”21

After more than a decade of Josiah’s reform effort, as dismal as it may have been to the eyes of Jeremiah, the prophecy of the destruction of the temple—equating it to the destruction of the sanctuary of Shiloh in the north by the Assyrians—must have disheartened many in Judah, but it inflamed the priests and prophets of the temple. They seized him, crying, “You must die.” Word spread quickly throughout Jerusalem, and the court was summoned. The officials who sat in judgment gathered in the temple courtyard at the New Gate. The temple priests and prophets brought a charge of treason against Jeremiah because he foretold the destruction of the city and perhaps included the charge of speaking “presumptuously,” that is, pretending to speak on behalf of Yahweh, also a capital offense.22 Jeremiah repeated his warning that unless the people brought forth genuine moral reform, the temple and city would be destroyed. This word came from Yahweh, and while he acknowledged the right of the judges to find him guilty, if they killed him they would add the charge of innocent blood upon them. Perhaps the warning about innocent blood, which would bring the vengeance of Yahweh, swayed the court. The judges, with the support of the people of the land who had gathered, told the temple officials that Jeremiah did not deserve death for speaking on behalf of Yahweh. Some of the elders reminded the court that the prophet Micah had also pronounced doom against the temple of Yahweh and the city of Jerusalem in the days of Hezekiah, and Micah had not been put to death for it. In the end, certain prominent men protected Jeremiah, and he was acquitted. A fellow prophet, Uriah from Kiriat Jearim, however, also prophesied against Jerusalem and was forced to flee for his life to Egypt. Uriah was captured and returned to Judah, where the king


executed him by the sword and cast his body into a grave of the commoners. From that time on, Jeremiah’s life was in danger.

1.5 The Neo-Babylonian Empire During the reign of Jehoiakim, in 605, Necho took his army to support Assyria in a last-ditch battle against the Babylonians at Carchemish, an ancient city on the west bank of the Euphrates River that commanded a strategic crossing for caravans. Both armies suffered great losses, but Nebuchadrezzar, son of Nabopolassar and crown prince, won the battle. Necho fled back to the Nile Delta, and Egyptian control of Syria-Palestine came to an end. Jeremiah interpreted the defeat and rout of the Egyptian army as the sign that Yahweh, Lord of Hosts, had made Egypt his enemy, and all who sided with Egypt were therefore against God.23 Soon after the battle, Nebuchadrezzar returned to Babylon at the death of his father and assumed the crown. From this point on, king Nebuchadrezzar set his gaze westward, and for 3 years he engaged in a series of campaigns along the Mediterranean coast from Tyre to Egypt. Jehoiakim soon submitted to the new empire, and the king of Babylon could not have had a greater ally in Jerusalem than the prophet Jeremiah. In 601 Nebuchadrezzar attacked Egypt but met with a serious defeat, so he returned to Babylon to regroup. At this time, bands of Syrians, Moabites, and Ammonites harassed Judah. These raids may have been due to uncertain power structure between Babylon and Egypt or may have been sponsored by Nebuchadrezzar as a means of weakening Judah and gaining prisoners. Jehoiakim, at any rate, allied Judah with Egypt and Tyre against Babylon. This alliance went against the advice of Jeremiah, who prophesied the defeat of Egypt, taunting Necho as the “Noisy One” who missed his chance, or All Talk and No Action.24 Jeremiah by now had shown his hand, or the side on which Yahweh stood: In the clash of two great empires, Jeremiah continued to favor Babylon over Egypt, and this set him against a powerful faction of Judah with whom he would battle to the end of his life. In 599, Nebuchadrezzar resumed his advance west. He plundered Arab towns to the east of Palestine, and the following year (598/597) he attacked Palestine. In the ninth month (Kislev) he laid siege to Jerusalem. On the second day of the twelfth month (Adar = February 15/16 or March 15/16, 597) he captured Jerusalem. Although we have conflicting traditions on the death of Jehoiakim, the king appears to have died before the fall of Jerusalem and was succeeded by his son, Jehoiachin. When Nebuchadrezzar approached the city, Jehoiachin “gave himself up to the king of Babylon.”25 The king, along with a number of the upper class, soldiers, and artisans, was exiled to Babylon. One source gives the number of exiles at 10,000, another at 8,000, and a third gives 3,023.26 But the small number of exiles included most of the ruling class. Among the deportation, the priest Ezekiel son of Buzi would soon become Yahweh’s voice in exile. Nebuchadrezzar stripped Jerusalem and its temple of its removable wealth. He set the third son of Josiah, Mattaniah, the uncle of Jehoiachin, on the throne of a gutted Judah and gave him the throne name of Zedekiah as a token of his vassalage to Babylon.


Zedekiah became king of Judah at a difficult time. With the cream of the population in exile, the king found himself bereft of aristocratic support and council. But he had the erstwhile Jeremiah, who compared those who remained in Judah to rotten figs and saw the future of Judah in the good figs in exile.27 Zedekiah, however, was not a visionary, and his prophets gave him conflicting advice. From the position of Judah, Babylon was far away, and while it was clearly the dominant empire, Egypt was at hand and no mean power itself, with an illustrious heritage and long time relations with Judah. Out of this reality, Zedekiah had to make the decisions of alliance or submission. In 596/595, Nebuchadrezzar repulsed an attack by the kingdom of Elam, and the following year he put down a rebellion within Babylon itself.28 These events unsettled the Babylonian Empire, and the accession of Psamtik II to the throne of Egypt in 595 added to the uncertainty felt in Judah, and together stimulated aspirations of independence from Babylon among the smaller vassal kingdoms in the region. It is against this political turmoil that the great clash of the prophets must be understood.29 Early in the reign of Zedekiah, there seems to have been some negotiations between Zedekiah and the vassal kings of Edom, Moab, the Ammonites, Tyre, and Sidon that smacked of resistance to Babylon. Yahweh commanded Jeremiah, “Make yourself thongs and yoke-bars, and put them on your neck.” Jeremiah, wearing his symbolic yoke, then prophesied to all the vassal kings that the entire region would be put under the yoke of Babylon because Yahweh had given all the lands to Nebuchadrezzar. To Zedekiah he said, “Bend your necks,” I told him, “to the yoke of the king of Babylon; serve him and his people and you will survive. . . . Do not listen to the words the prophets say to you, ‘You will not be enslaved by the king of Babylon.’ They prophesy lies to you. Since I have not sent them, Yahweh declares, they prophesy untruths to you in my name. The result will be that I shall drive you out, you will perish, and so will the prophets who prophesy to you.”30

Shortly after Jeremiah’s warning, a rival prophet, Hananiah from Gibeon, confronted Jeremiah in the presence of all the priests and the people who filled the temple courtyard. Hananiah declared, Yahweh Sabaoth, the God of Israel, says this, “I have broken the yoke of the king of Babylon. In exactly two years’ time I shall bring back all the vessels of the Temple of Yahweh which Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon took away from here and carried off to Babylon. And I shall also bring back Jeconiah son of Jehoiakim, king of Judah and all the exiles of Judah who have gone to Babylon, Yahweh declares, for I shall break the yoke of the king of Babylon.”31

Jeremiah still wore the symbolic yoke across his shoulders, the sign of his word from Yahweh. But he responded to Hananiah with a swift “Amen! May Yahweh do so.” Hananiah’s word from Yahweh was a peace oracle; Jeremiah’s a war oracle. Jeremiah reminded all who listened that he stood in a long line of prophets who prophesied “war, famine, and pestilence,” but a prophet of peace was a novelty indeed, and if peace came, all would know that Hananiah spoke for Yahweh. Hananiah then


performed his own symbolic act. He tore the yoke bars from Jeremiah’s neck and broke them, repeating his verdict: Yahweh says this, “This is how, in exactly two years’ time, I shall break the yoke of Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon and take it off the necks of all the nations.”32

We can imagine the consternation among the crowd. One of the prophets of Yahweh was a false prophet, but which? It may have been that even Jeremiah had some doubt, for he simply walked away. Soon after, however, empowered by a new oracle from Yahweh, he confronted Hananiah again in the public square. Jeremiah charged Hananiah with false prophecy and predicted that he would die because of it. Two months later, the tradition informs us, Hananiah died. At this time, King Zedekiah dispatched a delegation to Babylon, and Jeremiah sent an oracle of Yahweh with them to the leaders of the exiled community in Babylon. There were other prophets predicting a short exile, and Jeremiah sought to counter the false prophecy, as well as give hope to the exiles. He reminded them that Yahweh had sent them into exile, but not to destroy them. He urged them to thrive, to plant and build, to give their sons and daughters in marriage and bring forth a second and third generation. He then spoke words that for the Jews would reverberate across the centuries: Work for the good of the city to which I have exiled you; pray to Yahweh on its behalf, since on its welfare yours depends.33

The word of encouragement to the exiles became, in due course, the blessing of Yahweh upon the dispersion of the Jews as they spread out across the whole Mediterranean world. At the time, however, certain leaders in the Babylonian exile community rejected such a commitment to a long exile and wrote to the priest in Jerusalem, asking why he had not put the madman Jeremiah in stocks and collar. Shortly after the first delegation to Babylon, Zedekiah went to renew his oath of loyalty to Nebuchadrezzar. Among the royal delegation was the scribe Seraiah, brother of the scribe Baruch. Jeremiah sent another letter by the hand of Seraiah in which he predicted the fall of Babylon. Seraiah was to read it to the exiles, then wrap it around a rock and cast it into the Euphrates, symbolizing the sinking of Babylon, with the message that the exile would eventually end.34 The two messages from Jeremiah may also have inspired Ezekiel son of Buzi, for in the following year (593) he began seeing visions and launched his prophetic ministry of chastisement and consolation to the community of exiles.35 Jeremiah remained a free man for a few years, protected by his own supporters, but Zedekiah continued to vacillate under the persistent pressure from the proEgyptian party in Judah, as well as the surrounding kingdoms. Hophra (Apries) ascended to the throne of Egypt in 589, and within a year—and against the advice of Jeremiah—Zedekiah broke his oath of loyalty to Babylon. Nebuchadrezzar laid siege to Jerusalem. Early in the campaign an Egyptian army came to the aid of Judah, and Nebuzaradan, the Babylonian commander, lifted the siege to confront the Egyptians. Jeremiah took the opportunity to return to Anathoth to arrange his affairs, but at the gate he was accused of deserting to the enemy. Despite his denial


of treason, Jeremiah was beaten and thrown in prison. Zedekiah secretly summoned Jeremiah from prison and asked him for a word from Yahweh, but Jeremiah could only repeat the grim judgment he had given all along. Jeremiah then pleaded with the king that he not be returned to prison. Zedekiah, now virtually powerless against the pro-Egyptian faction, was able to have Jeremiah confined to the court of the guard, where Jeremiah was given a loaf of bread daily as long as grain could be found in Jerusalem. The Babylonian army dealt Pharaoh Hophra a crushing blow, and the Egyptians fled back to the Nile. Thereafter, the siege of Jerusalem resumed.

1.6 Fall of Jerusalem The siege of Jerusalem lasted 18 months, from January 588 to July 587 (or possibly 587–586). Jeremiah continued to prophesy doom, that the city would be given into the hand of Nebuchadrezzar and burned with fire. Though his advice of surrender went unheeded, his voice was not unheard. The leaders of the resistance came to Zedekiah and warned the king that Jeremiah was undermining the will of the people to resist Babylon. They must have come with force, because Zedekiah, admitting that he was powerless to confront them, gave Jeremiah into their power. They seized Jeremiah and lowered him by ropes into an empty cistern within the city, where the prophet’s voice could not be heard. There, left to die, he sank into the mud. But an Ethiopian, Ebed-melech, when he heard of Jeremiah’s plight, obtained permission from the king to rescue him. Together with three companions, they took rags and old clothes as padding, pulled Jeremiah out of his miry grave, and returned him to the court of the guard. Jeremiah no doubt agreed to remain silent. In July of 587 (or 586), the Babylonian army breached the northern wall of Jerusalem. When Zedekiah saw the army captains sitting at the gate, he fled the city out a back way but was soon captured. Jeremiah’s assurance that he would die in peace must have rung hollow as Babylonian judgment was rendered. His sons were slain before his eyes, and then his eyes were gouged out. This sightless and defeated figure led away in chains to Babylon offered the people a trenchant symbol of the end of Judah. Nebuchadrezzar delayed the destruction of the city for a month. Destruction of cities and temples was not his modus operandi. He desired a loyal kingdom of Judah and he may have consulted various figures in Judah as how best to achieve his goal. If so, he likely consulted Jeremiah. In the end, the decision to destroy the city of Jerusalem and its central temple deprived the Yahweh nationalists of their primary rallying cry, that the city of Yahweh’s throne could never be destroyed.36 After a month, the walls of the city of Jerusalem were torn down, the palaces burned, and the temple in like manner destroyed. Nebuchadrezzar carried off the remaining bronze utensils of the temple, including the great bronze bath and pillars, as scrap metal, and whatever remained of the gold and silver. He beheaded Seraiah the high priest (not to be confused with the scribe Seraiah) and imprisoned his son Jehozadak in Babylon, along with Zedekiah. Josephus tells us that after Zedekiah died, Nebuchadrezzar gave him a royal burial and released the high priest Jehozadak


from prison.37 Jehozadak fathered a son, Jeshua, who would someday return to Jerusalem as the first high priest of the new temple. No mention is made of the Ark of the Covenant in the historical record. The ark may have been returned to the temple from some storage place during the reform of Josiah, and if so, it was most likely carried off with the best utensils during the first exile in 597, or with the booty after the destruction, and broken up for the gold it contained.38 This end to the ark is supported by the later lament that the “ark of our covenant was plundered” and a tradition that it was carried off to Babylon.39 At some point, either before or after the destruction of Jerusalem, Jeremiah prophesied that the people would no longer speak of the Ark of the Covenant of Yahweh, for it will not be remembered, missed, or be constructed again.40 Despite the prophecy, a legend persisted that Jeremiah hid the ark from the Babylonians in a cave in the mountain where Moses died,41 while another legend claimed that Josiah had already hidden the ark under a rock in the temple precinct, where it remained hidden throughout the Second Temple era, and perhaps to this day.42 After the dust settled, the captain of the guard, Nebuzaradan, under a direct order from King Nebuchadrezzar, offered Jeremiah carte blanche liberty, whether to go Babylon under his protection or to remain in the land under the protection of Gedaliah, whom the king had appointed governor of the cities of Judah. Jeremiah chose to remain. He received a food allowance and a gift from Nebuzaradan and entered into the house of Gedaliah at Mizpah.43

Chapter 2

Exile and Return (586–500 b.c.e.)

2.1 Judah During the Exile After the destruction of Jerusalem in August of 587, the scraps of historical record in the book of Jeremiah tell of anarchy in the land of Judah. Gedaliah set up his administration at Mizpah, a town some 8 miles north of Jerusalem.44 As word of the new administration in Judah spread to the neighboring kingdoms, many Judaean refugees returned to Judah. Gedaliah also met with four military commanders who came out of hiding. He assured them all that if they now remained loyal to Babylon, he would intercede for them. Then he set about to repair the land and urged the people to gather the wine and summer fruit, which they did in great abundance. It happened that one of the military leaders among the Judaean refugees, Ishmael ben Nethaniah, a member of the royal Davidic line, led a band of Judaeans still opposed to the dominion of Babylon. They assassinated Gedaliah, his household, and a small garrison of Babylonian troops.45 They also slaughtered eighty pilgrims from the north who had come to offer gifts and burn incense in the desolate temple courts. The bodies of the slain were cast into a large cistern. Military skirmishes followed, and Ishmael escaped with his men to Ammon, where they sought protection from Baalis, king of Ammon, who had supported the plot against Gedaliah. The account given in the book of Jeremiah implies of the administration of Gedaliah that his assassination occurred within a few months, that is, in October of the same year Jerusalem was destroyed. But the memory of Gedaliah was sufficiently honored that his death was still commemorated by a fast in the early postexilic era and is noted to this day on the third of Tishri.46 The book of Jeremiah also tells of a third deportation of 745 Judaeans in the twenty-third year of Nebuchadrezzar, 582.47 There is some evidence that Nebuchadrezzar campaigned in Palestine and Egypt in 582–581.48 The deportation recorded in Jeremiah would have been in reprisal for the murder of Nebuchadrezzar’s appointed governor of Judah. If so, the most plausible scenario is that Gedaliah’s administration lasted several years, and among the peasant Judaeans who remained, it marked a hopeful beginning for a renewal of the devastated land. After Nebuchadrezzar removed the ruling elite and the supporting classes from Judah, it was understood by those who remained that Yahweh had punished Judah for its sins, and they naturally concluded that the wicked had been removed and

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“God’s people” remained. The land, once belonging to their evil oppressors, now belonged to them, along with the promises given to Abraham. They said, “Abraham was only one man, yet he got possession of the land; but we are many; the land is surely given us to possess.” This view was not shared by the repentant Judaeans in exile, as their spokesman, Ezekiel, attests: Thus says the Lord God: You eat flesh with the blood, and lift up your eyes to your idols, and shed blood; shall you then possess the land? You depend on your swords, you commit abominations, and each of you defiles his neighbor’s wife; shall you then possess the land? Say this to them, Thus says the Lord GOD: As I live, surely those who are in the waste places shall fall by the sword; and those who are in the open field I will give to the wild animals to be devoured; and those who are in strongholds and in caves shall die by pestilence. I will make the land a desolation and a waste, and its proud might shall come to an end; and the mountains of Israel shall be so desolate that no one will pass through. Then they shall know that I am the Lord, when I have made the land a desolation and a waste because of all their abominations that they have committed.

For Ezekiel, the claim of divine provision made by those remaining in Judah was completely at odds with divine purpose. Yahweh intended to purge the land, and divine favor rested on the exiles in Babylon.49 After the assassination of Gedaliah, Nebuchadrezzar probably removed Jehoiachin from his privileged status among the exiles in Babylon and imprisoned the king. The justification for imprisonment was that Jehoiachin had either ordered the assassination or had sanctioned it by Ishmael, a member of his household. This will have dashed the hopes of the Davidic family and its supporters in exile that they might yet return to Judah. The Judaeans remaining in Judah feared a reprisal by Babylon, and amid the chaos, a group of Jews came to Jeremiah, begging from him a word from Yahweh that would tell them what to do. They promised to abide by whatever he said. He told them that if they remained in the land, they should not fear Babylon, for Yahweh would protect them, but if they fled to Egypt, they would die there, abandoned by Yahweh. Likely the people of the land would have followed the word of Jeremiah, but not the leaders. They accused Jeremiah and his scribe Baruch of lying, and soon after, a good portion of the people fled to Egypt. They took all the household of Gedaliah and forced Jeremiah the prophet and his faithful scribe to go with them. Jeremiah was now a worn but well-used man of nearly 60 years. In the final act of his drama, we see him among the community of Judah’s refugees at Tahpanhes, a city in the Nile Delta region of Egypt. At the command of Yahweh, he buried large stones in the mud outside an official Egyptian building. These stones, said Jeremiah, would serve as a base for the throne of Nebuchadrezzar when he came to subjugate Egypt and delouse the land of its Judaean exiles, like a shepherd cleans out the vermin from his cloak.50 Disbelieved to the end, the curtain closed on Jeremiah as he listened to the Judaean refugees blame their plight not on disobedience to Yahweh but to the fact that they ceased to offer sacred cakes to the Queen of Heaven and pour out libations


to her. In a persistent struggle to understand the gods, they believed all their woes began when Josiah stopped the worship of the Queen of Heaven.51 Over the next 40 years, three distinct communities of former Judaeans struggled to survive. In Egypt, the refugees of Judah added their numbers to the Judaeans who had settled along the Nile during the previous two centuries, in the Delta region, in Memphis, and in Pathros, the region of Upper Egypt, as far as Elephantiné, a small island in the Nile near the first cataract.52 The Jews of Egypt retained a form of syncretistic Yahweh worship, which over time either died out or conformed to the dominant religion of Yahweh from Jerusalem. In 582, Nebuchadrezzar sent his Babylonian Imperial Guard to subdue Judah, Moab, and Ammon, whose king had harbored the assassins of Gedaliah. The last of the exiles, 745 Judaeans, were removed to Babylon, and the remaining Judaeans in Judah fell under the domineering yoke of Babylon without the benefit of a Judaean governor. Babylonian governors harvested as much tribute for the king as they could, and the people of the land suffered for two generations. Those born at this time will have only heard of the former land and will have had small hope of a restoration or reason to worship the god Yahweh. It is, perhaps, at this time that an anonymous poet composed the final poem in the book of Lamentations (5:2–5): Our inheritance has been turned over to strangers, our homes to aliens. We have become orphans, fatherless; our mothers are like widows. We must pay for the water we drink, the wood we get must be bought. With a yoke on our necks we are hard driven; we are weary, we are given no rest.

2.2 Exile in Babylon While Nebuchadrezzar secured a kingdom greater than that of Assyria, he also launched a massive building program to restore the glory of the city of Babylon, most of which now lies buried beneath modern Baghdad. Nebuchadrezzar repaired the walls and embankments that controlled the Euphrates River, which ran through the city of Babylon, as well as protecting the lowland flood zone. He spent much of his remaining 43-year rule rebuilding the temples of Marduk, Ishtar of Agade, Shamash, and other deities, as well as law courts and an administrative center to unite the many peoples incorporated into his empire. But the most enduring monuments of his building enterprise were the ziggurat of Marduk, which we suppose inspired the biblical story of the Tower of Babel, and the famed Hanging Gardens. Neither monument has survived, but the estimates of more than 300 million bricks, including many glazed and separately cast to form modeled reliefs on the walls, attest to the vast numbers of laborers employed by the king, many of whom were imported specialists. Exiled Judaeans skilled in construction were quickly added to their number, whether in Babylon or in the reconstructions of other cities, especially Nippur.53 The immense building program of Nebuchadrezzar, designed to return Babylon to its glory under Hammurabi, was accompanied by his desire to be known as the “king of justice,” to be a wise king who sided with the poor, the widow, the weak,

Exile and Return 31

and brought them justice against all oppressors. He “ceaselessly worked to please the great lord god Marduk and for the betterment of all peoples and the settling of the land of Babylonia.”54 For the Judaeans who remembered Jeremiah’s admonition to pray to Yahweh for the welfare of the city of their exile, however, they were reaping the blessings of Yahweh. Nebuchadrezzar settled the Judaean deportees in a few sites along the Chebar canal, north of the ancient city of Nippur, which lay between the Tigris and Euphrates about 150 km southeast of Babylon. The Chebar canal departed the river Euphrates and flowed near the city of Nippur, to return to the Euphrates south of the city. The known list of settlements are Tel-aviv (Tel-abib), Tel-melah, Tel-harsha, Keruv (Cherub), Addan, and Immer, and perhaps Kassifia (Casiphia), which apparently held a treasury and is usually included among the settlements in Babylonia.55 Three of the sites were on mounds (Arabic, tel), the ruins of earlier settlements. With very little information about communities of the Babylonian exile, we must extrapolate from references in later sources.56 A cuneiform text from 498 reveals another place settled by Judaeans called “the city (of) Judah,” perhaps near Sippar. All evidence suggests the Judaean exiles quickly turned their attention to survival, and then to thriving among the native and foreign peoples that dwelt in the fertile land of Babylon. The Judaeans were indeed exiles, but far from slaves, and competing with other groups of exiles, they proved themselves able to succeed within the rise of the celebrated Neo-Babylonian Empire. Those who knew agriculture farmed the lands around their villages. Artisans plied their trade or were employed in the many building projects of Nebuchadrezzar, as well as supporting tasks. Others, with connections and means, turned to finance and trade. Ancient traditions preserved in the book of Daniel tell the believable tale of gifted Jews rising within the court of the king as advisors. Nebuchadrezzar granted King Jehoiachin an elevated position in exile, and he would have retained some sort of court. He sired sons and grandsons who kept the Davidic royal family alive. The exiles used his reign as their calendar, which coincided with the first year of exile.57 Stability and success may be inferred from the fact that within two generations the Judaeans were able to provide substantial gifts to those who wished to return to Judah. The Murashû archive, a collection of accounting tablets of the Murashû family (ca. 454–416), attest to some eighty personal names of Jewish descent involved in economic and legal matters. The individuals rarely did business on the sabbath but otherwise blended into the general life of Babylon as small landowners, officials, and witnesses.58 Nebuchadrezzar established his son, Amel-Marduk (the biblical Evil-Merodach), as heir, and upon his death in 562, Amel-Marduk took the throne of Babylon. The new king concentrated on the internal affairs of his vast empire, and among his initial acts, he released the aging king of Judah, Jehoiachin, from prison, where he had likely been constrained since the assassination of Gedaliah. According to an addition to the book of Jeremiah, Amel-Marduk gave Jehoiachin a seat of honor above those of other kings exiled in Babylon.59 Amel-Marduk’s reign was cut short after 2 years. Neriglissar, a leading general under Nebuchadrezzar, led a conspiracy to assassinate the king, and he took the


throne.60 The change of power, although probably due to tribal conflicts, passed smoothly. Restoration of the city continued, and in the third year of his reign, 557, Neriglissar marched west to secure the territory of east Cilicia, and though having succeeded, he died the following year on his return to Babylon. The chosen heir, Labashi-Marduk, reigned for 3 months. Another band of conspirators assassinated him, and power again shifted to a new leader, Nabonidus, “Praised be Nabu,” whom Berossus calls a priest of Bel. It is possible that Nabonidus married a daughter of Nebuchadrezzar, as Neriglissar had done, so that his son, Bel-sharra-usar (the king Belshazzar of Dan 5), was a grandson of the great king. Nabonidus is remembered for his efforts to continue the religious revival begun by Nebuchadrezzar, the restoration and patronage of temples in the great cities. The queen mother, Adad-guppi, devoted herself to the moon god, Sin, and the particular attention Nabonidus payed to the Ehulhul temple of Sin at Haran came at the expense of Marduk, the city god of Babylon, and quickly made enemies within the powerful priesthood of Babylon. After a military campaign in Syria, Nabonidus turned his attention to securing the southern trade route. He made Belshazzar co-regent in the heartland of the empire, while he campaigned across the Arabian Peninsula as far as Edom and settled in Tema (modern Teima) in Arabia, an oasis along the ancient incense road. There, Nabonidus dwelt for 10 years, establishing his control as far as Medina. Why Nabonidus went into self-imposed exile is not clear, and the fact that he did not return to Babylonia at the death of his revered mother in the ninth year of his reign suggests his reason for doing so was more than consolidating the trade routes of Arabia. The Prayer of Nabonidus, discovered in the Dead Sea Scrolls, tells of a Jewish exile who taught Nabonidus a prayer by which he was healed from a plague of boils. While there is no confirmation of a plague on Nabonidus, such a disease would provide a good reason for his sojourn in the desert. During the decade of the king of Babylon’s isolation, Cyrus of Persia rose to power. Cyrus was born around 590, probably in Parsa, the modern Iranian province of Fars on the eastern coast of the Persian Gulf. The origin of the Persian (Iranian) peoples remains unknown, except they are part of the Indo-Iranian (Aryan) migrations from central Asia that crossed the Zagros Mountains around 1000 b.c.e. and mingled with the ancient Elamites. Sometime after 692, when the Elamite king Kudur-Nahunte still called himself king of Anshan, a new ruler called Kurash came to the throne and founded the Achaemenid dynasty, known first as the king of Parsua and later, by the time of Cyrus, the king of Anshan. Cyrus inherited the throne of Parsa around 560. Within a few years he had consolidated his power and formed an alliance with the new king of Babylon, Nabonidus, against Astyages, king of the Medes. By 550, Cyrus defeated Astyages and became king of the Medes and the Persians. Cyrus then turned his attention to the northwest territory of Anatolia (Greek “the east” = Asia Minor = modern Turkey). His expansion met little resistance until Croesus, king of Lydia and inventor of the coin as a medium of trade, did battle in central Anatolia in 547. According to Herodotus, after an indecisive battle near the Halys River in central Anatolia, Croesus returned to Lydia to strengthen his army, supposing Cyrus would not continue the attack during the winter. But

Exile and Return 33

Cyrus did pursue and met up with Croesus in the plain of Lydia outside of Sardis. Acting on the advice of a Median general, Cyrus placed his baggage camels at the fore, with mounted men equipped for battle. The strange odor of the camels set the Lydian horses in disarray, and they fled, leaving the cavalry no choice but to dismount and confront the Persians on foot. Cyrus swiftly won the battle and took Sardis. He brought Croesus captive back to the city of Persis and left his generals to assert control of Anatolia.61 During the next few years, Cyrus consolidated his command of the eastern empire of the Medes while preparing to advance on Babylon. An uneasy anticipation lay like a mist over Babylon in the years between 546 and 539. The foresight of peasants and day laborers sufficed to predict that Cyrus would invade Babylon. The certainty that Cyrus would succeed was a political calculation, one that many Babylonians among the upper classes were preparing to facilitate. Certain Judaeans, aware of the unrest and dissatisfaction, were making their own preparations. Toward the end of the decade, we hear the voice of an anonymous prophet whose words have been attached to those of the prophet Isaiah and therefore called by moderns Deutero-Isaiah. The prophet declared Cyrus an anointed one of Yahweh. Thus says Yahweh to his anointed one, to Cyrus whom, he says, I have grasped by his right hand, to make the nations bow before him and to disarm kings, to open gateways before him so that their gates be closed no more: I myself shall go before you, I shall level the heights, I shall shatter the bronze gateways, I shall smash the iron bars. I shall give you secret treasures and hidden hoards of wealth, so that you will know that I am Yahweh, who calls you by your name, the God of Israel. It is for the sake of my servant Jacob and of Israel my chosen one, that I have called you by your name, have given you a title though you do not know me. I am Yahweh, and there is no other, there is no other God except me. Though you do not know me, I have armed you so that it may be known from east to west that there is no one except me. I am Yahweh, and there is no other, I form the light and I create the darkness, I make well-being, and I create disaster, I, Yahweh, do all these things.62

By this declaration of the sovereignty of Yahweh over the nations, and the singular existence of true Deity, the prophet has scaled a new mountaintop of Jewish theology. There remained only the task of surrounding Yahweh with the heavenly hosts and distinguishing between the good and evil angels. Babylonia and Syria had suffered a drought in 545, which came to an end in 543, the year Nabonidus returned to Babylon from Arabia. Nabonidus finished building the temple of Sin in Harran and restored the Sin cult, sacred also in southern ancient city of Ur. The religious reform was no doubt meant to unify the empire under the god Sin. What it did, however, was unify the priests of Marduk in Babylon against Nabonidus over his neglect of Babylon. In 539, Nabonidus celebrated the new year festival in Babylon while Cyrus marshaled his forces for an assault on Babylon. The advance came in October of that year. The northern defenses in Opis along the Tigris fell quickly, and Sippar surrendered without a battle. Nabonidus, powerless without significant support among the priesthood, fled to Babylon. Two days later the Persian army entered Babylon without opposition. Belshazzar was immediately slain, and Nabonidus


soon surrendered. Cyrus exiled Nabonidus to the province of Carmania in central Persia, where the last king of the Neo-Babylonian empire lived out his life.63

2.3 Cyrus of Persia Cyrus entered Babylon on the third day of Marcheshvan (30 October) to the acclamation of the people. He dutifully attributed his victory to the will of Marduk, who surveyed and looked throughout all the lands, searching for a righteous king whom he would support. He called out his name: Cyrus, king of Anshan; he pronounced his name to be king over all (the world).64

Cyrus ordered all deities to be returned to their cities and lands, and he resettled displaced peoples in peace. Among the peoples given leave to return to their ancestral homeland, we may count the Judaeans, whose tradition states simply: Thus says Cyrus king of Persia, “Yahweh, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and he has charged me to build him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Whoever is among you of all his people, may Yahweh his God be with him. Let him go up.”65

Despite the obscure and conflicting accounts, it is likely that Cyrus did give the Judaeans permission to return to Judah and placed the temple vessels into the care of a leading Judaean emissary known to us as Sheshbazzar, and called a prince of Judah.66 He may have been a descendant of the royal line but need not be, since the account in Ezra imitates the first exodus from Egypt, in which heads of tribes are called princes.67 Cyrus, in any case, would have chosen a respected leader among his Judaean subjects for the task of rebuilding the temple. Sheshbazzar, also called the governor of Judah, led a select group of Judaean exiles back to Jerusalem in 538 and began the massive work of clearing the temple ruins.68 It is not clear whether he succeeded in laying a base foundation for the rebuilding of the temple or left the task to others, but the anticipation of a new beginning for Judah soon gave way to the realities of economy and politics. Such a beginning, then, is all that Sheshbazzar achieved, and thereafter he disappears from history. The Judaeans who returned had to reclaim their lost land and make peace with the Judaeans who had remained, as well as with immigrants and opportunists from the surrounding territories who had staked a claim and given birth to new generations of natives. All disputes over property would have to be settled within a legal system established by Persia. So it is no surprise that the temple project stalled, and of the next 16 years we are told nothing. But during this time, thousands more returned to Judah. Cyrus set his son Cambyses on the throne of Babylon while he embarked on building projects and palaces and extending his reach to the northeast between Bactria and the Aral Sea. On one such campaign in 530, according to Herodotus, Cyrus died in battle against a nomadic people called the Massagetai. This people

Exile and Return 35

was ruled by a widowed queen, Tomyris, who warned Cyrus that he should withdraw and be content with the land he possessed. After an initial battle in which the queen’s son was captured, Tomyris sent a herald demanding the return of her son, and if Cyrus refused, she warned, “I shall give even you who can never get enough of it your fill of blood.” The captured son, however, had already committed suicide, so they joined in battle. The full remaining force of the Massagetai engaged Cyrus and defeated him. The warrior queen filled a skin with human blood, and when she had located the slain Cyrus, she dunked his head in the blood, that he should at last have his fill. Herodotus assures us that of the many stories about the death of Cyrus, this is the most credible, and in the absence of a rival account, it has lived on in annals of ancient lore.69 Despite his ignoble end after having reached too far in his empire building, Cyrus retained the praise of posterity as few other conquerors had. The Elamites, Medes, and Babylonians accepted him quickly as their legitimate ruler, and so did the Judaeans. Key to his success was a desire to befriend the religious leaders of any people and pay due respect to their gods. Cyrus himself probably worshiped Ahura Mazda, but he gave credit to both Marduk and Yahweh for his victory in Babylon.

2.4 Cambyses Cambyses (530–522) assumed the throne of Persia and spent the next few years preparing to invade Egypt. In 526 he launched his campaign. Arabs provided camel trains of water as he crossed the desert, and Phoenicians provided a fleet of ships to provision the troops as they penetrated the Nile delta. The aged Pharaoh Amasis died while Cambyses marched on Egypt, and the new Pharaoh, Psamtik III, buckled beneath the onslaught and was soon captured in Memphis. In the summer of 525, Cambyses became ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt. Following the policy of his father, he was careful not to be seen as a foreign usurper but as the legitimate Pharaoh of Egypt. Cambyses attempted to bring the Ethiopians of Meroë under his domain, but for lack of supplies he failed. Herodotus describes Cambyses as going mad after his failed campaign against Ethiopia, perhaps due to an illness contracted in the desert. He offended the Egyptians by wounding their sacred bull Apis and executing the leading men of Memphis; he offended his own Persian nobles by accusing them of treason and slaying their sons. Then, having already sent his younger brother, Smerdis, back to Babylon, he then feared his brother would take the throne and so sent a trusted commander to go and kill his brother. The fratricide was accomplished in Susa.70 While Cambyses returned to Babylon, word came that Smerdis had usurped the throne. In fact, a leading member of the magi, also called Smerdis according to Herodotus but called Gaumata by Darius, pretended to be the king’s brother Smerdis and took control of Babylon. Herodotus tells us that Cambyses, now quite mad, mounted his horse in such haste that the sheath of his dagger fell off, and he stabbed himself in the thigh, just where he had plunged his dagger into the Apis bull. He died soon after near Ecbatana. Without confirming the story, other sources agree that Cambyses


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died on his return to Babylon and that a revolt had occurred in Babylon, led by a Magus called Gaumata. Following this revolt, the Revolt of the Magi, we rely on the famous Behistun (Bisitun) monument of Darius for his version of events. Darius, with the help of six others, put down the revolt, and he emerged as the strong man. He claimed an Achaemenid ancestry through a common great-great-grandfather with Cyrus and was therefore a legitimate successor to the throne. Darius became king of Persia in October 522, but almost immediately he was faced by revolts in various parts of the empire and rival claimants to the throne. According to the Res Gestae of Darius, inscribed on the Behistun monument, he fought nineteen battles in 1 year and took captive nine kings.71 By mid-521, Darius had secured his position and entered into a long and stable reign of 38 years, until November of 486. It is here, then, that the story of the Judaeans resumes. Once Cambyses had brought the land of Egypt into the Persian Empire, the province Beyond the River, where Judah dwelt, took on new significance. The Judaeans who accompanied Sheshbazzar, as well as those who remained in Babylonia, were well aware of this, and soon after, a new leader, Zerubbabel, enters the history of the book of Ezra.

2.5 Return under Zerubbabel Darius (522–486) established a new empire structure of 20 satrapies. Egypt, including Cyprus and Lybia, comprised one satrapy; Babylon and Beyond the River was another. In order to secure the vast province of Egypt, which had recently broken away, Darius required a secure route through Phoenicia and down along the Mediterranean coast, including the small but strategic territory of Judah. The most effective policy was to set up local leaders who would remain loyal to the Persian crown. Darius made Ushtannu the satrap of Babylon and Ebirnari “Beyond the River,” and under him, Tattenai, the governor of Beyond the River only, and beneath Tattenai, a Judaean named Zerubbabel (Seed of Babylon) to be the governor of Judah. In the some 60 to 70 years since the destruction of the first temple, the exiled community in Babylon and the people of Judah who had remained in the land (and the few who had returned in 538) had grown further apart, so that in sheer economic terms, few if any in Judaea would have welcomed back the former ruling class. In the absence of the old elite, a new elite emerged, and most everyone who remained would have moved up the ladder of wealth. The return of exiles was a mixed blessing. If the immigrants brought wealth and renewed opportunity for wealth, all well and good. And if the temple were rebuilt, that too had advantages. But it is clear from the archeological record that a decree from Cyrus and the return to Zion made no significant impact on the demography of the land, and those who returned from exile must have been a mere trickle over two generations. The population remained between 30,000 to 40,000, rather less than half, perhaps a third, of what it had been during the last days of the kingdom of Judah.

Exile and Return 39

Zerubbabel arrived in Judah in August of 520, along with Jeshua son of Jehozadak, the grandson of the last officiating high priest before the exile, Seriah.72 It is not altogether clear what Zerubbabel and Jeshua were supposed to do, beyond watching over the king’s interests, ensuring the loyalty of the king’s subjects, and resuming the official worship of Yahweh, the god of the land, so that the land might prosper. But whatever the expectations of Babylon, the hopes of the beleaguered Judaeans likely revived at the sight of a royal descendant of David and a priest from the lineage of Zadok, the anointed chief priest of the temple under Solomon, a priest who could trace his genealogy back to Aaron.73 Immediately the prophet Haggai declared that the blessings of Yahweh depended on the completion of the house of Yahweh. Zerubbabel resumed the temple restoration, and within a week, they restored the altar and offered up sacrifices morning and evening.74 Work on the temple structure resumed, but when the foundation had been laid, amid the songs of praise and shouts of joy, the old priests and Levites who remembered the temple of Solomon from their youth wept aloud at so meager a foundation. Tradition recalls that weeping and joyful shouts mingled indistinguishably from Jerusalem.75 The discouragement of the elders who remembered the former glory and saw the present efforts as nothing must have dampened the enthusiasm of the others, for the prophet Haggai responded with a word from Yahweh. Once again, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land; and I will shake all nations, so that the treasures of all nations shall come in, and I will fill this house with splendor.76

Haggai was soon joined by another prophet, Zechariah, son of Berechiah, son of Iddo. The two prophets encouraged Zerubbabel and Jeshua to complete the temple quickly. They seem to have been aware of the prediction of Jeremiah that the exile would last 70 years, and counting from 587–586, the end would soon arrive, in 517–516. The full restoration of the kingdom of Yahweh appeared to be just on the horizon, but it was a new thing, not like the kingdom of old. Zechariah brought new visions of the overarching work of Yahweh. Zechariah saw Jeshua the “high priest” standing before the angel of Yahweh, with Satan at his right hand to accuse him. But Yahweh rebukes this new enemy of Judah and promises Jeshua that if he walks in the ways of Yahweh, he will rule the house of Yahweh.77 Again, in another vision, Zechariah saw a golden, seven-branch menorah between two olive trees, signifying the completion of the temple and the inauguration of Yahweh’s rule through his two “sons of oil,” his anointed ones.78 The essential diarchy of rule shared by the governor Zerubbabel, a prince of David, and the great priest Jeshua is of great significance to the formation of Judaism. The historian of Ezra remembered it as a matter of fact, but at the time, the prophets Haggai and Zechariah exulted in it. The rule of the Judaeans was to be lodged in two offices, and each office kept separate in its own domain, civil for the prince, and sacred for the high priest. That such a polity should appear well established on the scene suggests years of deliberation in Babylon. The king was Darius, and the oracles of the prophets are dated according to his reign. (The dated oracles of both Haggai and Zechariah took place within a period of just over 2 years,


between August 520 and December 518.) With the king’s blessing, the Judaeans were free to re-establish the temple cult, which would honor and serve the true king Yahweh. When work on the temple resumed, leaders from Samaria came up to Jerusalem and offered to join in the rebuilding of the temple. According to Ezra (4:1–3), they claimed to have been worshiping the God of the Judaeans, including sacrifices, ever since they were settled in the land by the Assyrian king, Esar-haddon, in 676. Zerubbabel and Jeshua declined the offer, however, on the grounds that permission to rebuild the temple had been granted only to the Judaeans, and the Samarians had nothing to do with it. Although this confrontation would later be seen in both Samaritan and Jewish tradition as the start of the long antagonism between Jews and Samaritans that led to bad blood between the neighbors, it is most likely that the opponents of the Judaeans at this point were merely residents of the northern territory, Samarian leaders, not Samaritans claiming descent from the tribes of Israel and therefore with a right to the temple of Yahweh.79 After the temple construction was well under way, the Samarians brought their dispute to Tattenai, the governor of the province Beyond the River. In order to settle the matter, he questioned the authority of Zerubbabel to rebuild the temple. Told simply that Cyrus had decreed it years before, he sent a letter to Babylon asking for confirmation that Cyrus had authorized the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem. After some effort, the officials found a record of the decree in Ecbatana, where Cyrus had resided at the time. Darius then instructed Tattenai to ensure Zerubbabel’s completion of the temple with the aid of state funds, so that sacrifices to the God of heaven might resume and the Judaeans would “pray for the life of the king and his sons.”80 The letter of Darius, likely drafted with the help of Jewish advisors in Babylon, marks another step in the establishment of a political structure for the Jewish community under a Gentile monarch, which had begun with Jeremiah’s admonition to pray for the welfare of their cities in exile. Temple reconstruction resumed, and according to the tradition preserved in Ezra, it was completed in the sixth year of Darius the king, 516/515, remarkably close to 70 years after its destruction. In reality, it may have taken another decade or longer to finish, but sacrifices had already been made on the altar, and for purposes of the rituals and holy days, the temple was likely functioning. The following year priests and Levites sanctified themselves, and the Passover celebration resumed. Not only did the Judaeans who had returned from the exile eat the Passover lamb, but also proselytes who had separated themselves from idolatry and ritual impurity joined them.81 This is the last we hear of Zerubbabel and Jeshua. One imaginative reconstruction of events to explain the disappearance of Zerubbabel is that Darius removed the governor due to a nationalistic fervor inspired by Haggai and Zechariah over the leadership of a Davidic descendant and the elevated high priest, a movement that sought independence from Persia under a new Davidic ruler. While that is possible, the silence is equally explained by the stable tenure of a modest governor. Archaeological evidence reveals a governor named Elnathan soon after Zerubbabel, possibly his successor.82 The names of two other governors, Yehoezer and Ahzai, likewise appear on stamped jar handles that may be dated later than

Exile and Return 41

Elnathan but before Nehemiah. It appears, therefore, that Persian kings continued to appoint governors on an individual basis. Jeshua continued as the first high priest of the second temple and established stable relations with the subsequent Persian monarchs, as well as the governors of Beyond the River. The early “messianic” enthusiasm of Haggai and Zechariah was no doubt genuine but may be understood as the hope and expectation that the temple would be completed within the 70- (or 72-) year exile prophesied by Jeremiah and the need to rally the participation of a dispirited people. A theocratic, rather than a strictly political, reading places their words in a more theological perspective. Haggai’s final word is dated to December 18, 520: Speak to Zerubbabel governor of Judah. Say this, “I am going to shake the heavens and the earth. I shall overturn the thrones of kingdoms and destroy the power of the kings of the nations. I shall overthrow the chariots and their crews; horses and their riders will fall, every one to the sword of his comrade. When that day comes—Yahweh Sabaoth declares—I shall take you, Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel my servant—Yahweh declares— and make you like a signet ring. For I have chosen you—Yahweh Sabaoth declares.”83

This word of Yahweh, perhaps in response to a query by Zerubbabel concerning his future, seems to promise him kingship in the symbol of the signet ring, a symbol that Jeremiah used earlier when the despised Jehoichim was removed from Jerusalem in the same fashion as a signet ring might be removed from the hand of Yahweh.84 If so, the prophecy went unfulfilled. The prophecy, however, bears the marks of a more distant eschatology, similar to the “shake the heavens and the earth” of 2:6–9, and may have been the more distant vision of the prophet.85 Zechariah’s last dated prophecy, December 7, 518, deals with the fasts of the fifth and seventh months commemorating the destruction of the temple and the assassination of Gedaliah respectively.86 Thereafter, we are left with a historical lacuna that must be imagined. The people of Judah continued their struggle to survive in their land. They tilled the land and dressed their vines and prayed for rain. They married and had offspring to increase their wealth and security. While many remained faithful to Yahweh, survival did not allow the luxury of ritual refinement or fastidious observance of religious laws they may, or may not, have remembered.

Chapter 3

Restoration of Judah (500–400 b.c.e.)

While the Judaeans settled into their role of an obscure temple state at the western edge of the Persian Empire, the Greeks entered into the era that would be called the classical age. Homer’s Iliad and the Odyssey (ca. 750) were well established epics, and if legends may be believed, Thales (ca. 624–545), first of the seven wise men (sophoi), developed a rudimentary geometry and predicted the year of a solar eclipse, while Pythagoras (ca. 571–497) discovered numerical ratios and their impact on musical intervals. Anaximander (ca. 610–546) thought all life comes from the sea, and animals, including man, therefore evolved from fish. Now, a new class of literati would give the world tragedy, satire, and comedy: Aeshylus (ca. 525–456), Sophocles (ca. 496–406), Euripides (ca. 485–406), and Aristophanes (ca. 450–385). Anaxagoras (ca. 500–428) would bravely declare the sun was not a god, merely a very hot rock, and the moon was made of dirt like the earth. Anaxagoras was the first scientist to be condemned for impiety against the gods and exiled. Empedocles (ca. 484–424) postulated all things could be reduced to four elements, earth, air, fire, and water, and two forces, love and strife. Democritus (ca. 460–370) would propose an atomic theory that all things are comprised of indivisible particles, atomoi, which are combined in different patterns. Among the new class of thinkers, the sophists, Protagoras (ca. 490–420) would boldly declare: “Man is the measure of all things.” But then he wrote, “As to the gods, I have no means of knowing either that they exist or that they do not exist. For many are the obstacles that impede knowledge, both the obscurity of the question and the shortness of human life.”87 For this the Athenians expelled him and burned his books. Others would assume the inquirer’s mantle and orchestrate elaborate schemes of human knowledge: Socrates (ca. 469–399), Plato (ca. 428–348), and Aristotle (ca. 384–322). Herodotus of Halicarnassus in Anatolia (ca. 484–425), the father of history, traveled much of the eastern Mediterranean world in his effort to write his history of the Persian and Greek wars. King Darius of Persia inherited the lands of Anatolia from Cyrus the Great. The Mycenaean culture of western Anatolia invited expansion beyond the Hellespont (Dardanelles). In 512, Darius invaded the Balkans, and Amyntas I, king of Macedonia, became a Persian vassal. When the Athenians ousted their tyrant Hippias and fashioned a democracy in 510, Hippias fled to Persia. Darius demanded that Athens restore Hippias and offer the tokens of submission, earth and water, to the king of kings. The Athenians refused.

Restoration of Judah 43

In 500/499 the Ionian Greeks in Asia Minor revolted against Darius, but after a 6-year war they were suppressed and the inhabitants enslaved or relocated. In 492 Darius then sent an army to bring the Greek city-states into submission, and thus began the Persian Wars. The initial advance was thwarted when Darius lost most of his naval fleet in a storm, but in 490 a small force of about 25,000 landed on the plain of Marathon, where 10,000 Athenians confronted Darius and the battle of Marathon entered Greek lore forever. Of the ten Greek generals, Miltiades argued for an attack, which he reckoned, “if the gods are impartial,” the Athenians would have the better of it. The Greeks did attack, and won the battle. Herodotus claims the Persians lost 6,400 men while the Athenians counted their dead at 192.88 Xerxes ascended the throne of Persia in 486 and reigned until 465. The province of Yehud (Judaea), as best we can tell, continued to struggle. Recent archaeological surveys substantially correct the inflated population numbers recorded in the biblical sources. Jerusalem remained wretchedly poor and largely uninhabited, even though the temple and altar served as the cultic center. The population of Judah, including the hill country of Benjamin to the north of Jerusalem as far as Bethel, and south as far as En Gedi along the Dead Sea, appears to have hovered between 30,000 and 40,000, a meager lot in comparison with the more than 100,000 prior to the destruction under Nebuchadrezzar.89 Some who migrated from Babylon to Yehud regained their ancestral lands, and increased in wealth as their ancestors had done. Sons and daughters were given in marriage for reasons of love and alliances. Jews from Babylon married Jews who had remained, and Jews married Samaritans, Moabites, Edomites and no doubt a variety of others, even as Jews in Babylon were marrying among themselves or with Gentiles. Intermarriage may be inferred in Babylon from the mixtures of Babylonian and Jewish names, and in Yehud because it became a matter of conflict by the middle of the fifth century.

3.1 Ezra the Scribe The biblical books of Ezra and Nehemiah (a single book in the Hebrew canon) resume the written tradition of Judaeans during the reign of Artaxerxes (465–424), the son of Xerxes. The relationship of the two men, Ezra the scribe and Nehemiah the governor, remains one of the great enigmas in Jewish history. Did they know each other, and did Ezra precede or follow the mission of Nehemiah? Some have suggested the figure of Ezra is a later fiction.90 Under the strictest constraints of historical verification, we are left with few anchors in the sea of obscurity, and the result is a nagging frustration. However, the record of Nehemiah appears to be the more historically solid, and it is possible to exercise the historical imagination and reconstruct a plausible series of events drawn from the mélange of memories and later embellishments in the book Ezra-Nehemiah. One such plausible, and widely accepted, reconstruction goes as follows.91 The Jews in Babylon thrived while the Judaeans in Yehud stagnated. Despite a functioning temple, the land remained impoverished and without strong religious


leadership. A certain Eliashib was probably serving as high priest. In 458 Artaxerxes authorized a Jewish priest and scribe, Ezra by name, to help stabilize the province of Yehud: he was to lead a delegation of Jews who wished to return to Yehud, convey various gifts and grants in support of the temple cult, conduct an inquiry in Judah and assess compliance to the law of his God, and to appoint magistrates and to teach the law. The recorded number of people in Ezra 2 who came up to Jerusalem (50,000), as well as the amounts of money at Ezra’s disposal (650 talents of silver, 100 talents of gold), are too fantastic to be historically relevant, but the embellishments, typical of ancient histories, need not undermine the historical event of a man called Ezra bringing people and funds to Jerusalem. A realistic number of those who came up with Ezra hovers around 1500 heads of families, or about 5000 in all (Ezra 8:1–14; 1 Esdras 8:1–36). Ezra, we are told, was a “scribe skilled in the Torah of Moses” (7:6). The Torah of Moses was at least a version of the book of Deuteronomy, or possibly the entire Pentateuch, although there were differences from our received text, which we should expect at such an early state of the five books of Moses. The king authorized the civil authorities to support Ezra’s enforcement of the law of God and the law of the king.92 The recognition of two law codes reflects the realpolitik that had existed since the destruction of Jerusalem, and this statement of two grounds for authority, sacral and civil, begins the distinction between the institutions of religion and government, that is, temple and state. In the preexilic era, the king of Judah was the head of state, which included the temple, but from second temple onward, the high priest emerges as the guardian of all matters of Yahweh, which are distinct from the affairs of the king.93 Shortly after Ezra arrived, on the first day of the seventh month, the people of Yehud gathered in the square before the Water Gate in Jerusalem. Ezra brought forth the Torah of Moses and read from it. Levites stood among the people and paraphrased it so the people could understand. The people answered “Amen, Amen” and bowed their heads and worshiped Yahweh with their faces to the ground. Ezra also initiated the celebration of Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, which appears to have been an innovation for the people of the land, for it had not been done since the days of Joshua.94 Nevertheless, we are told that they happily went out into the hills to gather the appropriate branches, built booths on their roofs or in their courts, and dwelt in them for a week in commemoration of their ancestors wandering in the wilderness. A far less pleasant task that came before Ezra was to confront a number of Jewish men, including priests and Levites, who had taken non-Jewish wives, though some may have been from among the Judaean women who had remained in the land and were involved in mixed religious practices. This was not just a matter of exogamy, mixed marriages, a fact of life that had always occurred in Israel and indeed, was not expressly forbidden in the laws of Moses, but the dissolution of the “holy seed,” the offspring of Abraham.95 Ezra understood that with the loss of ethnic identity, a decline in cultic purity was bound to follow. As an expression of the gravity of the moment, Ezra tore his cloak, pulled out hair from his head and beard, and sat on the ground until the evening. After the evening sacrifice, Ezra cited the law of Moses, and he called on all to repent of this evil.96 Three days


later, Ezra summoned the men to make public confession of sin, and he set up a commission to determine the extent of the matter. In the end, a number of leaders did divorce their wives and sent them away, along with their children. Within a year, Ezra reported success in his effort to retain ethnic, as well as cultic, purity in a stable and loyal nucleus of Jews.97 Thereafter, we do not know whether Ezra returned to Babylon or remained in Judah as a private citizen. If the mention of Ezra in Neh 12:26 is accurate, then he remained in Judah for a while. Josephus completes his narrative of Ezra with the eulogy: “And it was his fate, after being honored by the people, to die an old man and to be buried with great magnificence in Jerusalem.”98 Rabbinic tradition, however, has Ezra die in Babylon, where his grave remains.99 Despite the judgment of Josephus, it may be significant that Ezra disappears from written records for more than 500 years until he is revived in the apocalyptic work 4 Ezra around the year 100 c.e. Soon afterward, he becomes the Second Moses in rabbinic tradition. At some point, the Jews attempted to rebuild the city of Jerusalem and repair the wall. This was undertaken without the authority of the governor of the province, and officials in Samaria, Rehum and Shimshai quickly wrote to the king warning him of the potential for revolt by this “rebellious and wicked city.”100 Artaxerxes ordered the repair of the walls to stop until further notice. Whether the Jews ignored the order and resisted, or Rehum and his colleagues were bent on settling an old grudge, the report says Sanballat and his men stopped the rebuilding by force and power. That is, there may have been resistance, and the work not only stopped, but the walls were torn down. Historians have placed this event within the broader context of a revolt by Megabyxus, the satrap of Trans-Euphrates around 448, which would help explain the desire to fortify Jerusalem and the violent response by Samaria. The revolt, however, depends on a single mention by the historian Ctesius.101 The ravaging of Jerusalem, for whatever reason, explains the report received by another Jewish official in the court of King Artazerxes, the man Nehemiah.

3.2 Nehemiah the Governor Nehemiah is a colorful man, known to us from a first-person account of his life, called the Nehemiah Memoirs, preserved in the biblical book by his name.102 Around the time that Pericles undertook to fortify Athens by walls and laws and Herodotus was traveling the Mediterranean world, drawing up a narrative for the enlightenment of the Greeks, Nehemiah sought to strengthen the city of his ancestors’ graves, also by walls and laws (450–440). Two years after Pericles began building the Areopagus in Athens, Nehemiah began rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem. In their own limited ways, Ezra and Nehemiah were trying to do for Jerusalem and Judaea what Pericles was trying to do for Athens: establish the city as a strong cultural and religious center for the people. Just as Pericles limited Athenian citizenship to those born of Athenian citizens, so Nehemiah, like Ezra, attempted to purify the citizenry of Jerusalem. Besides his ardent religious goals, Nehemiah understood the pragmatic need for loyalty and stability in the city state.


In the twentieth year of Aratxerxes (446–445), word came to Nehemiah in the city of Susa from Judah that “the wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been destroyed by fire” (Neh 1:3). Nehemiah, son of Hacaliah, was a “cupbearer” in the court of Artaxerxes, likely a trusted servant though not necessarily a high official. He obtained permission from the king to go to Judah and rebuild Jerusalem. Artaxerxes apparently reversed his earlier decision because he believed Nehemiah would not only prevent rebellion in Judah but also stabilize the small province to the benefit of his western frontier. He sent Nehemiah with letters of authority for the rebuilding of Jerusalem, including timber from the king’s forests. Nehemiah arrived with an escort of cavalry and handed the letters to the existing governor, Sanballat the Horonite, and a second official, Tobiah the Ammonite. They did not receive him well, perhaps because Nehemiah had gone over their heads, or because they stood to lose tax revenue from Judah. Any concentration of wealth and power in another city was bound to encroach on the status quo, and no other reasons need be sought for the conflict. Following the aborted attempt to rebuild the city, Sanballat may have been appointed as caretaker governor, and Tobiah was the overseer of Jerusalem under the authority of Sanballat. Whatever the cause of the conflict, from the start Nehemiah saw them as opponents. According to his memoirs, Nehemiah found the land in disarray. Neither patient nor diplomatic, Nehemiah kept his plans confidential. Soon after arriving in Jerusalem, he set out at night to inspect the walls by torch or moonlight. Secrecy was no doubt necessary in order for him to organize and begin the repair before his opponents could undermine him. When he did share his plans with the community leaders, a majority committed themselves to the rebuilding, and Nehemiah assures us they did so enthusiastically. Nehemiah included in his memoire a list of individuals and the portions of the wall and gates they restored. Once the rebuilding project became known, Sanballat accused them of rebellion. Sanballat and Tobiah brought in a third member to oppose Nehemiah, Geshem the Arabian, the king of Qedar, a significant territory stretching from north Arabia to Syria. They first accused the Judaeans of rebellion, then taunted: “That stone wall they are building—any fox going up on it would break it down!” (Neh 4:3). But as the gaps in the wall began to close, Sanballat brought in more leaders among the Arabs, Ammonites, and Ashdodites threatening violence. Nehemiah split his men between construction and guard duty, and even the builders and burden bearers kept swords in their sashes. Nehemiah recalls, “So neither I nor my brothers nor my servants nor the men of the guard who followed me ever took off our clothes; each kept his weapon in his right hand” (4:23). It appears, then, that in distant Yehud the authority granted by king Artaxerxes was not respected as the law of the Medes and the Persians. As the repairs came to a close, we are told that Sanballat asked for a parley, but Nehemiah, suspecting it was a trap to kill him, replied that he could not leave the work. After several attempts, Sanballat sent an open letter accusing the Jews of plotting rebellion. He claimed that reports had reached him from the neighboring provinces, including Geshem the Arabian, that Nehemiah had set up prophets in Jerusalem proclaiming “There is a king in Judah.”103 Because Nehemiah had


no known association with the Davidic lineage and is not likely to have rebelled against his benefactor, the accusation was no doubt little more than an attempt at blackmail. Sanballat informed Nehemiah that he would report this act of rebellion to Artazerxes and suggested they meet to discuss it. Nehemiah rejected Saballat’s accusation as mere invention and refused to meet with him. Tobiah, whose influence in Yehud surpassed that of Sanballat, attempted to influence Nehemiah by corresponding with nobles and family members in Jerusalem. Although we are told little of the source of conflict between them, it appears that not all Judaeans favored the isolationist intentions begun by Ezra and pursued by Nehemiah, which were being imposed on them from the Jewish community in Persia. The ruling class had always favored political ties with other elite groups as a means of keeping their wealth in the family, and to them social hierarchy was more important than ethnic solidarity. The name of Tobiah, “Yahweh is good,” suggests Israelite descent, and he was probably a member of a large and wealthy Israelite clan known from various sources over several centuries as the Tobiads. He had married into the family of returned exiles and married his son and daughter to important families in Judaea.104 Nehemiah was disrupting the status quo, and wealth and influence were at stake. The added burden of the communal labor among the Judaeans brought to a head the economic inequalities that had developed over the decades since the return from exile. Many of the poorer peasants who perpetually lived at the subsistence level were forced to sell their children to buy grain, while others who owned land had suffered crop failures and still had to pay the king’s tax, mortgaged their lands, and had lost their fields and vineyards.105 While indentured servitude did not go against Mosaic law, indeed, it was regulated, the prophets had long condemned the inequalities among the brethren, and Nehemiah drew upon that tradition. He demanded that the wealthy landowners, among whose number his own family stood, return all lands held in pledge to their owners, cancel all debts, and no longer charge interest of probably 12 percent on loans. Nehemiah then performed a symbolic act, reminiscent of the prophets: he shook out the folds of his garment to let things kept secure in his sash fall out. He said, “So may God shake out every man from his house and from his labor who does not perform this promise. So may he be shaken out and emptied.” And the assembly said, “Amen” (5:13). The wall was completed after 52 days, on the twenty-fifth day of the month of Elul, in the autumn of 444.106 When the gates had been hung, Nehemiah put his own men in control of the city and began the process of repopulating Jerusalem and controlling access to non-Jews. The people agreed that a sufficient number of leaders and temple officials should reside in Jerusalem, along with a portion of the people of Judah, some 10 percent. But the summons for a repopulation of Jerusalem did not gather enough volunteers, so they turned to the system of casting lots, invoking the will of God, and thereby supplemented the volunteers who were required to migrate to the city. We are told the people blessed all those who willingly offered to live in Jerusalem.107 Nehemiah returned to Babylon in the thirty-second year of Artaxerxes (433), but at some point thereafter, he learned that Tobiah had again established himself


in Jerusalem and had even secured a private chamber in the temple complex for his use. Nehemiah requested leave of the king and came again to Jerusalem. There he found the situation worse than he anticipated. It appears that Tobiah was dismantling the reforms of Nehemiah and opening up the city to the interethnic commerce with the peoples surrounding Jerusalem, and the sabbath was an ideal market day. Tyrian fishmongers and other merchants came up each sabbath to sell their goods to the people of Judaea and Jerusalem. Nehemiah found that the Levites had returned to their fields because they no longer received the prescribed tithes from the people, and the people themselves were treading grapes or harvesting produce on the sabbath. In addition to all this, the aristocracy was intermarrying with non-Jews, despite the promises a generation earlier under Ezra, and the high priest’s grandson had married a daughter of Sanballat. In his righteous indignation, Nehemiah drove Sanballat’s son-in-law from the temple and threw out all the furnishings of Tobiah. He ordered the temple chambers ritually purified. He condemned the nobles of Judaea for allowing the Levites to starve. He shut the gates of Jerusalem on the sabbath and warned the Tyrian merchants to stop coming to Jerusalem on the sabbath. After a few sabbaths of camping outside the gates of Jerusalem in hopes the people would come out to buy their wares, Nehemiah threatened force, and they eventually stopped coming. It is apparent from Nehemiah’s memoir that many of the people did not share his vision or the implications of the sabbath rest, and this lends credulity to the decade’s long struggle to establish the law code of Deuteronomy as a way of life in Judaea. We do not know the extent to which Nehemiah’s energetic final campaign was successful because his memoir ends. We only know how he wished to be remembered: “Remember me, O my God, concerning this, and wipe not out my good deeds that I have done for the house of my God and for his service” (13:14). And Nehemiah was remembered, above all for building the walls of Jerusalem. He would be listed among the heroes by the second century b.c.e. sage Jesus ben Sira.108 The missions of Ezra and Nehemiah reveal the spirited effort of some Babylonian Jews who were probably inspired by the “school of Ezekiel” to colonize the province of Yehud, to establish a new religious people in the land of their ancestors. This colonization confronted many people of Judaean, Samaritan, and Arab descent, a majority of whom had never left the land and who had no desire for the religious and ethnic exclusivity demanded by the colonizers. The move from Babylon may be likened to the migration of the Pilgrims from Britain to America with their religious purity and high ideals, or the establishment of the modern state of Israel by European Jews. They formed a nucleus among the Judaeans and other peoples of the land that lays the foundation and ancestry for the later traditionalist and sectarian groups that will emerge in the history of Judaea.109

3.3 Jews of Babylon Apart from the visitations of Ezra and Nehemiah, we have very little evidence for the growing Jewish community scattered around the Persian Empire. One


source, however, allows us to extrapolate the growth of the Jews, namely, the Murashû Archive. The archive consists of more than 800 cuneiform tablets, or fragments, that preserve financial records of what may be called an ancient banking firm of the Murashû family. The records date from 454–404, hence the reigns of Artaxerxes I and Darius II, and deal with members of the royal families, small landowners, and numerous lesser individuals. Among the lesser individuals are many personal names that appear to be of Jewish extraction, about 80 individuals, such as Haggai and Shabbatai. From the details of their transactions, we learn that Jews lived in about 30 villages around the ancient Babylonian city of Nippur. Some served as soldiers and minor customs officials, while others were farmers, merchants, or slaves. They gave their children Babylonian names, but these offspring in turn revert to naming their children with Jewish names in the third generation. The Jews blended into the acculturation of the empire along with many other minorities, yet retained at least one hallmark of their religion, sabbath observance. According to the records, they rarely conducted business on the sabbath, but they are otherwise undistinguished from the rest of the population. It is against this background of striving for a religious identity amid cultural assimilation that the stories of Daniel and his friends become the model of keeping dietary laws and praying three times a day.

3.4 Elephantiné Conflict Upon the death of Artaxerxes, a brief struggle for the throne of Persia followed in which the initial successor, Xerxes II, was slain after a three-month rule, and a strong man named Ochos took both power and the throne name of Darius II in 424/423. Jerusalem no doubt sent a delegation to renew the oath of loyalty and life went on as before. Due to the fortuitous discovery of the cache of Aramaic papyri in the southern Egyptian frontier town of Elephantiné, we know the name of the governor of Judaea and something of the continuing spread of the Jewish Diaspora. Egypt had long cast its imperial shadow over the land of Judah, attracting immigrants, mercenaries, and refugees. The patriarchal traditions of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob represent oral traditions of the long ties with Egypt, and the exodus under Moses likely tells the legend of a genuine escape and migration of a portion of the people who claimed the name Israel. Solomon, we are told, made a marriage alliance with the Pharaoh of Egypt, and his rebellious general, Jeroboam, fled there. Jeremiah likely died in Egypt amid his wayward brethren, and their descendants continued to live there, with some form of syncretistic religious attachment to the Judaeans in Judaea. For centuries we knew of these Judaeans only from the traditions of Jeremiah. In the archaeological discoveries from Elephantiné, however, we have the independent voice of a community that traced its roots to a distinct migration, perhaps under the reign of Manasseh, or at the latest under Josiah.110 According to the archive, the temple of Yahu was built before Cambyses conquered Egypt in 525, and it was the only temple in the area left undisturbed by the Persian conqueror.111


Elephantiné was a small island in the Nile, just over a mile and a half in length, and a quarter of a mile wide. Due to the great ivory trade throughout antiquity, and perhaps the appearance of the rock emerging from the Nile, the island was called Elephant place, Abu in Egyptian, Yeb in Aramaic, and Elephantiné in Greek. The military garrison stood as sentry of the southern gate of Egypt, just below the first cataract and 500 miles south of the delta. On the east bank of the Nile lay the larger town of Syene, modern Aswan. The community of Jews, numbering perhaps 200, retained an ethnic quarter within the sun-dried mud brick residences, merely one group of foreign legionnaires among a variety of languages, including Ionian and Aramaean. The papyri archive opens a window into the fifth-century life of Diaspora Jews. A dozen documents belonged to the family of Mahseiah, son of Jedaniah, who were among the wealthier Jews at Elephantiné. Mahseiah had two sons, Jedaniah and Gamariah, and a daughter, Mibtahiah. The documents, dated between 460 and 420, permit a tentative reconstruction of her life. We learn that Mibtahiah was given in marriage at age 20 to Jezaniah, another Jew in the community, in year 6 of Artazerxes (459). Mibtahiah received a house near the temple of Yahu and a parcel of land. Her husband retained certain rights to the property, but with sufficient restrictions to protect Mibtahiah. The foresight was well founded, for later documents, dated to 446, find Mibtahiah a childless widow and Mahseiah impatient to be a grandfather. She married a second time, to an Egyptian called Eshor, who may have taken the Jewish name Natan as he entered into their community. Mibtahiah bore two sons and named them after her father and grandfather, but in other documents they are called the “sons of Eshor,” according to their Egyptian descent, as well as the “sons of Natan,” noting their Jewish identity. The dual identity portrays a general acceptance of mixed marriages. Mibtahiah again became a widow around 420, age 60, and died within 6 years. We learn two things of particular interest for understanding the Jewish Diaspora of the fifth century. At one point, she sued an Egyptian architect, and in court she swore an oath by Sati, the goddess consort of the chief Egyptian ram god, Khnum.112 We also learn that she kept control of her property and retained the right to file for divorce on her own initiative. Both of these actions, swearing by foreign gods and female-initiated divorce, run contrary to what will become normative Judaism. The papyri contain other evidence of a syncretistic Judaism. In one litigation document a Jew swore an oath “by the sanctuary and by Anat-Yaho,” a female deity known as the consort of Yahweh. In Syene there was a temple to the Aramaean goddess Anath, and this may be the deity given the title Queen of Heaven by the Jews who confronted Jeremiah.113 Another text provides a list of offerings to Yahu, god of the Jews, and for Anat-Bethel, and for Ashim-Bethel, other lesser deities.114 Despite the syncretism, the Jews seem to have observed a sabbath rest; for we learn from an ostracon that no Jew would cross the Nile or transport goods on the sabbath.115 The picture of the Jewish community at Elephantiné is not surprising for the fifth-century Diaspora. The Jews respected the shrines and cults of their neighbors, and in particular the deities associated with Bethel worshiped by the Aramaeans from Samaria. In some cases, the Jews were still polytheistic and reluctantly gave up


their worship of the goddesses associated with the ancient worship of Yahweh. But the Jews in Babylon and Judah under the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah were fighting for the pure monotheism of the prophets and its uniform cult directed from the temple in Jerusalem, and this battle was being waged in distant Egypt. It is against this background that we set the Elephantiné community and its demise in what may be called the tale of the two temples. The life-giving center of Elephantiné was the temple to Khnum, chief god of the region and of the first cataract of the Nile. The pink granite sanctuary was as grand as it was vital to the fertility of Egypt, for the ram-headed god, Khnum, controlled the Nile, and the Nile gave life to Egypt by its annual flood, which began at the summer solstice and continued for one hundred days. All Egypt awaited the swelling river, and during flood season, priests of Khnum kept watch over the ancient Nilometer near the temple, a square pit with two scales marked upon the sandstone walls, one to measure the rise of the river and the other to calibrate its height above the arable land. Each day priests recorded the height of the Nile and sent the information by couriers to the cities along the Nile. A second Nilometer at Memphis and a third in the delta helped coordinate the anticipated flood plain, hence the extent of the arable land, and the bounty for Egypt, and indeed, bread for much of the Mediterranean world. The temple of Yahu, though far smaller than the temple of Khnum, stood nearby in the center of the town. The documents note that the temple was already standing when Cambyses conquered Egypt in 525, and the initial permission to erect the temple of Yahu near to the temple of Khnum was likely granted by the Egyptian Pharaoh, Psamtik I, sometime around 650. According to this reconstruction, Manasseh, king of Judah, sent a contingent of soldiers to Psamtik, who needed to replace the former garrison at Elephantiné after the garrison deserted south to Nubia (modern Sudan). At the same time, Manasseh is known to have set up various altars to different gods in the Jerusalem temple of Yahweh, as well as the shedding of innocent blood.116 A plausible scenario is that some priests of Yahweh escaped Manasseh’s polytheistic campaign and fled to Egypt, where they erected the temple to Yahu/Yahweh for the Jews stationed there.117 The early Jewish settlers built their temple with gray and pink granite cut from the quarries of Syene and built the sanctuary roof of cedar wood brought from Lebanon. There were also five gates of cedar suspended by large hinges of beaten bronze. The priests of Yahu offered up incense and meal offering in basins of gold and silver and bronze. They also offered up burnt offering upon the altar, and this ancient temple—the only temple of Yahweh during the Babylonian exile—attracted Jews from the lower Nile on pilgrimages to worship Yahu and participate in the sacrifices, as well as the pilgrimage festival of Passover. One of the most important documents of the archives is known as the “Passover papyrus.” It is poorly preserved, but the text has been brilliantly reconstructed.118 It is a letter dated to year 5 of Darius II (419–418), from a certain Hananiah to Jedaniah and his colleagues. It is possible this Hananiah is the brother of Nehemiah, or the commander of the citadel in Jerusalem.119 The letter reports a decree of Darius that instructs the Persian satrap, Arsames, to “keep away from the Jewish garrison.”


Given the context of the letter, which deals with the Passover, it apparently means that Arsames is not to interfere with the Passover. The letter then instructs the community in Elephantiné to observe the Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread on the fifteenth and twenty-first day of Nisan, which would be more precise than the traditional time when “you first put the sickle to the standing grain.”120 It lists other regulations concerning purity, use of fermented drink, and the storage of leaven during the festival. These regulations, not found in the Torah, represent a developing tradition that will be added to “the customs of our fathers” so prominent in later Judaism. It also reveals the early attempts of Jerusalem to regulate the main festivals of Jews no matter where they were celebrated in the growing Diaspora. The Jerusalem official, Hananiah, later paid a visit to Elephantiné, perhaps to see that the regulations were enforced, and his presence caused resentment among the Egyptian priests of the temple of Khnum, for as another document tells us, “It is known to you that Khnum is against us [Jews] since Hananiah has been in Egypt until now.”121 A few years later, around 416, Athens supported a revolt against Persia in eastern Anatolia, and Darius II found himself again embroiled in troubles from the west, and the conflict between Athens and Sparta. Arsames, the satrap of Egypt, periodically left his post in Memphis to campaign for Darius. Egyptian discontent began simmering with the outbreak of the revolt in Anatolia, and in 410, while Arsames visited Persia, rebellion broke out under the leader known as Amyrtaeus. In the month of Tammuz (July-August), the priests of Khnum conspired with the Persian commander, Vidranga, and a band of Egyptian rebels attacked the temple of Yahu and destroyed it. They also pillaged the Jewish quarter. The attack was probably sparked by Egyptian resentment of animal sacrifices performed in the Jewish rituals. Khnum was the ram-headed god, and the slaughter of rams upon the altar of the Jews during Passover was likely a grave insult to the Egyptians, perhaps as symbolic deicide. Such sacrifices at Passover had long been a protected religious rite, but now, under the rise of Egyptian patriotism, the Jews were seen as loyal soldiers of the foreign Persian Empire and therefore part of the foreign oppression. When Cambyses invaded Egypt, he demolished all the Egyptian temples but left the temple of Yahu untouched, since the Jews served in the outpost of a recognized province of the empire. This, too, would have been an aggravating memory. Another cause for a growing antagonism was the nature of the Passover festival, a celebration of the escape from Egyptian oppression, hardly the sort of holiday to endear one to one’s Egyptian neighbors. All together then, the Passover slaughter of a male sheep, sacred to Khnum, and celebration of deliverance from Egypt, coupled with a rising Egyptian patriotism and perhaps a general xenophobia, gave cause to what may be considered the first recorded anti-Jewish pogrom in history.122 Our information for all this comes from two draft documents that appeal for permission to rebuild the temple.123 These letters, and the memorandum of an official sent from Jerusalem to Elephantiné to deliver an oral response, provide us with a pivotal development in Judaism. After the destruction of their temple, the Jewish community of Elephantiné went into mourning, prayers, and wearing sackcloth. They appealed to the king for justice and received it. Vidranga was


removed and the rebels executed. The Jews then appealed to Johanan the high priest in Jerusalem for support in rebuilding their temple, so that meal offering, incense, and burnt offering might resume. Johanan did not reply to the request, perhaps because it presented Jerusalem with a novel dilemma, whether to support their co-religionists in Egypt or the Persian authorities who did not wish to exacerbate Egyptian resentment over the temple of Yahu. Three years later, in 407, Jedaniah and his colleagues wrote a letter to the governor of Judah, Bahogi, and to Delaiah and Shelemiah, sons of Sanballat, the governor of Samaria, renewing their request for support. Finally a response came from Bahogi and Delaiah. They instructed the Jews to rebuild the “Altar-house of the God of Heaven” and offer meal offering and incense as done formerly. The request to resume burnt offerings, however, was denied. The reason is assumed to have been a diplomatic compromise as well as the desire of Jerusalem to establish its authority over all Jews within the Persian Empire. On the one hand, Persian interests were served by eliminating the sacrifices that had sparked the conflict, and on the other hand, Jerusalem interests were served by limiting the full cultic ritual including burnt offerings to the temple in Jerusalem. Another letter of the archives preserves the request to rebuild the temple with the understanding that no sheep, ox, or goat will be made as burnt offering, but only incense and meal offering.124 With the last dated document from Elephantiné archives, in 399, the Jewish community disappears from history without a trace. Josephus knew nothing of them, nor does rabbinic tradition. Herodotus visited Elephantiné around 464 while the temple of Yahu thrived, but he does not mention the Jews. It is just possible that Deutero-Isaiah did know of their existence, for when he predicts the return of the exiles from the four corners of the earth, he scans the compass and comes to rest at the southernmost part, the land of the Syenians, which is how the Jews referred to themselves in one of the archive documents.125 Likewise, the prophet Zephaniah, active during the reign of Josiah (640–609 b.c.e.), knew of a distant Diaspora: “From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia my suppliants, my scattered ones, shall bring my offering” (3:10). Elephantiné is but one of the Jewish Diaspora outposts of Egypt and beyond. In one of the oracles of Isaiah that looks to the restoration of the exiles, we see listed Assyria, Egypt, Pathros, Ethiopia, Elam, Shinar, Hamath, and the coastlands of the sea.126 In another oracle, Isaiah foresees a new Diaspora in Egypt. On that day there will be five cities in the land of Egypt that speak the language of Canaan and swear allegiance to the Lord of hosts. One of these will be called the City of the Sun (Heliopolis). On that day there will be an altar to the Lord in the center of the land of Egypt, and a pillar to the Lord at its border.”127

We may have here a genuine prophecy, one that acknowledged the consistent spread of the worshipers of Yahweh to Egypt and the expectation that in due course, Egypt would join Assyria in worshiping Yahweh. This oracle, if made in the late eighth century (ca. 715), may have provided the divine approval for erecting the temple of Yahu in Elephantiné. Later, in the second century b.c.e., the prophecy will be used to build another temple to Yahweh at Leontopolis, in the Nile delta.

Chapter 4

The Hellenistic Age Begins (400–301 b.c.e.)

4.1 Judah of the Silent Generations As the Judaeans entered the fourth century, we find the efforts of Ezra and Nehemiah did not go unrewarded. The high priest was becoming the de facto ruler of the Jews, able to guide the people in obedience to the Torah of Moses. The office was powerful, and worth killing for. Josephus preserves a single incident in Jerusalem, around 400, that is otherwise unknown to history.128 The high priest Eliashib was succeeded by his son Johanan during the reign of Artaxerxes II Mnemon (404–359). A second son of Eliashib, named Joshua, desired the high priesthood and engaged the governor Bagoses (probably the governor Bahogi of the Elephantiné archives), who promised to help him obtain the office.129 Joshua initiated a quarrel with Johanan in the temple, and in the end, Johanan killed his brother. Bagoses immediately attempted to enter the temple, but the Jews prevented him because he was a foreigner. Bagoses forced his way in, adding his defilement of the temple to that of a slain corpse, and imposed a fine of 50 drachmae for every sacrificial lamb slain over 7 years. Bagoses may have desired to reduce the status of Jerusalem as he had done with the temple in Elephantiné, but Josephus considered the desecration to be divine retribution for the impiety of the murder within the temple precinct and assures his readers that “neither among Greeks nor barbarians had so savage and impious a deed ever been committed.” The high priest Johanan died, and his son Jaddua became the high priest. Josephus has nothing else to offer for the next 70 years of Judaean history, which we, too, must pass over in silence. He leaves the conflict between Johanan and Joshua under Bagoses and turns immediately to the coming of Alexander of Macedonia. Therefore, we assume some two generations of quiet in Judaea, as well as the various communities in the Diaspora. It was a time of growth and stabilization for the Jews, while Persia and the Greeks pursued their conflicts and intrigue.

4.2 Persia and Macedonia In the winter 405/404, Darius II fell mortally ill on a campaign in the north of Media and died. Artaxerxes II (404–360/359), surnamed Mnemon by the Greeks,

The Hellenistic Age Begins 55

was crowned king of Persia, but a second son of Darius by a different wife, Cyrus the Younger, soon began plotting to take the throne. Egypt immediately revolted against Persia and essentially gained independence under an Egyptian prince, Amyrtaeus, because Artaxerxes had greater problems to settle with his brother and with the Spartans in western Anatolia. Cyrus raised a Greek force of more than 10,000 heavily armed hoplite mercenaries which he kept hidden outside of Anatolia, and after gaining support from some Persian nobles, he marched against his half-brother Artaxerxes in 401. Among the Greek soldiers of fortune was a young Athenian named Xenophon, a future literatus who had studied under Socrates. In his famous work, the Anabasis (March Upcountry), Xenophon recounts the march of Cyrus though northern Anatolia with his “Ten Thousand” Greeks, who are the heroes of the story. Although the boat bridge on the upper Euphrates south of Carchemish had been burned by the retreating Persian forces, Cyrus forded the river at a low point in mid-July and marched against Babylon along the eastern bank. As Xenophon tells it, when the battle was joined against Artaxerxes, the Ten Thousand Greeks forged through the Persian army along the river, but before they could close up the right flank, Cyrus wrested defeat from the jaws of victory by rashly charging ahead to render a mortal blow to the king. He was cut down before he reached Artaxerxes. With Cyrus dead, the battle lost its purpose, and after several defensive skirmishes, the Ten Thousand elected new leaders and found their way as an army safely back through Media and Anatolia to the Bosporus Straits. The successful retreat through Persian territory and without the aid of supplies was a great military feat that bolstered the confidence of the Greeks, a confidence they would hone and refine until Alexander of Macedonia would marshal them all for the final assault on their age-old enemy. Within 3 years, Sparta invaded the Persian territory of Anatolia to liberate the Ionian Greeks. Artaxerxes responded by encouraging the rivalries between the Greek city-states, and in 394 he destroyed the Spartan navy at Cnidus, giving Persia supremacy in the Aegean Sea. By 486, Athens submitted to a settlement called the “King’s Peace,” which left Persia in control of Anatolia. Artaxerxes then mounted two expeditions against Egypt, in 385 and 373, both of which resulted in Persian defeat. These military failures emboldened the satraps of Anatolia, and with the support of Egypt, Athens, and Sparta, they rose up in the so-called Revolt of the Satraps around 366. Artaxerxes was unable to defeat them in battle. He did, however through intrigue and treachery, cause sufficient chaos to put down the uprising, so that by his death in 360, at about age 86, he left his empire intact and essentially at peace. Although Egypt occasionally encroached into Palestine as far as Phoenicia, and Persian forces passed by Judah to invade Egypt, there is no record of Judah’s being caught up in the political struggles of Persia. We may well suppose, however, that young Jews, like their Greek counterparts and many others in the Levant, availed themselves of the chance to make an early, if small, fortune as a mercenary for a Persian or Egyptian paymaster. We know already of the Jewish soldiers of Elephantiné as well as some in Babylonian Persia, and Josephus explicitly says as much with the coming of Alexander the Great. Though history is silent on the life


of fourth-century Jews, whether in Judaea or in the Diaspora, we may assume they were engaged in the wars between East and West. In 359, two rulers took their places on hereditary thrones. Ochos, known as Artaxerxes III (359–338), became king of Persia, and Philip II (359–336) took up the throne of Macedonia. Artaxerxes Ochos won the reputation of being as bloodthirsty as any of his ancestors and immediately eliminated any relative who might challenge his rule. He demanded his western satraps disband their private armies and began centralizing his power. Meanwhile, Philip secured his vulnerable kingdom of Macedonia, on the east by a treaty with Athens, on the north by a victory over the Paeonians, and on the west through a marriage with the Molossian princess, Olympias, who bore his legitimate heir, Alexander, in July of 356. The two rulers ignored each other in favor of consolidating their respective domains. Aratxerxes occupied himself with a series of minor revolts throughout his empire. In 351 he attempted to reconquer Egypt, but his army was repulsed. The failure prompted another revolt in Sidon, the so-called Tennes Rebellion, that may have involved Palestine and Phoenicia, but this too, was crushed in 345. Artaxerxes hired a number of Greek mercenaries for a second invasion of Egypt in 343 and succeeded in bringing lower (northern) Egypt under his control, but the king of Egypt, Nectanebo, escaped south up the Nile and kept the dynasty alive. Philip of Macedonia spent the first decade of his rule reinventing the art of war. He began with a standing professional army, self-sustained by raids and hardened by thirty-five-mile-a-day marches without benefit of a supply train. The eighthcentury hoplite phalanx, a wall of long spears, the sarissa, had already rendered such an infantry superior to the horsemen. Philip lengthened the sarissa from 8 to between 13 and 18 feet, with a larger spear head and a balance weight at the other end, producing a genuine pike that required two hands to wield and thrust. The three-foot concave shields were reduced in size and slung over the neck. He raised a Macedonian phalanx of 25,000 men, supplemented by mercenaries, and organized into brigades, companies, and sections, all highly trained to retain mobility. They advanced in formation three deep presenting before them a jagged wall of long spears, backed up with additional ranks behind ready to finish off any man or beast that fell beneath their onslaught. While Philip prepared his army, he also prepared his heir, Alexander. Around 342, he summoned the philosopher-scientist, Aristotle, from the city of Assus on the northwestern coast of Anatolia, to tutor the crown prince. Aristotle, whose father Nicomachus had served as the court physician of Philip’s father, King Amyntas III, came to the capital, Pella, and took up the task of educating the 13-year-old Alexander. The length of the engagement cannot have been long, no more than 4 years, but Aristotle instilled in his young ward a thirst for knowledge. During Alexander’s campaigns, he sent new biological specimens back to his teacher for observation. Philip continued to use alliances and force in his bid to gain a dominant position among the Greek city-states. He joined in the Sacred War to liberate the oracle of Delphi from the Phocians, and as an ally of Thebes, he defeated Thessaly. After his victory, he was elected leader of the Thessalian League and prepared to engage Athens. Isocrates (436–338), a leading Athenian political philosopher who


favored a pan-Hellenic unity, welcomed the leadership of Macedonia. Around 346 he published his address to Philip, in which he encouraged him to lead a Greek army against the barbarians, namely, the Persians. Athens, however, did not trust the Macedonian and declared war in 340. The following year Philip asked Thebes for passage into Greece, and when they refused, he engaged them in a one-day battle at Chaeronea. His brilliant victory won him the entire war, for it was clear no Greek city-state could defeat him. Philip wisely allowed the Athenian soldiers to return home without ransom. From then on he worked to establish the common peace, which followed under the League of Corinth in 337, with the goal of leading a combined Greek army against Persia. Among his numerous marriages, for sport or alliance, Philip erred with his final one in 338. He married the Macedonian princess Cleopatra, also called Eurydice, for no apparent political reason, and thus compromised the status of Alexander as his successor.130 Aware of the danger, his queen Olympias left the country with Alexander, but Philip was soon reconciled to his firstborn son. Then in 336, during a wedding ceremony of his daughter to the brother of Olympias, Philip was assassinated by a young Macedonian noble, Pausanius. Soldiers executed the assassin on the spot. Olympias was suspected of plotting the assassination, but before any action could be taken, Alexander secured his father’s power and eliminated all rivals to the throne of Macedonia. After Philip’s funeral, Alexander marched to Greece, where the League of Corinth voted him the leadership of the Persian campaign and renewed their loyalty to the new king. With Greece subdued, Alexander returned north, but on the way he visited the Delphi oracle to make a dedication and receive a favorable omen. Two years before the death of Philip, Bagoas, a eunuch in the Persian court, poisoned Artaxerxes and set Arses, a son of the king, on the throne as Artaxerxes IV.131 But Arses was not the compliant one Bagoas had hoped, so he poisoned Arses as well. He then sought a more distant member of the Achaemenid lineage, another Darius, and made him king. Thus in 336, Darius III and Alexander of Macedonia took their seats of power and prepared for the final conflict.

4.3 Alexander of Macedonia In 335 Alexander launched his lightning campaign. He began by subjugating Illyria and then marched northeast across the Danube to secure his route to the Hellespont and avenge his father on the Thracian tribes who once had wounded Philip and stolen war booty from him. While on campaign, a rumor of Alexander’s death spread through Greece. Thebes revolted against the hegemony of Macedonia, with other city-states, including Athens, joining in. Alexander reappeared and ruthlessly destroyed the great city of Thebes, erasing from the face of the earth all but the house of the sixth-century poet, Pindar, which he spared as a monument to his Hellenism. Thebians slain in the streets numbered 6000, and the remaining populace of 30,000 including women and children, were sold into slavery. The rest of Greece fell into abject silence at the terror of the 21-year-old.


Alexander assembled his invasion force of 40,000 phalanx infantry, 6000 cavalry, and a fleet of 160 ships. The war against Persia had always been a crusade to avenge the Greeks for the impieties that Xerxes had inflicted on their temples, a religious cause that had united them under Philip, and it would remain a theme of Alexander. He left his general Antipater as governor of Greece with an army of 12,000. The Macedonian army crossed the Hellespont in the spring of 334. Alexander led his picked cavalry known as the Companions on the right, and Philip’s old general Parmenio rode with the Thessalian calvary on the left. In their train were supply wagons and siege engines that would be assembled as required along the way. Upon setting foot in Anatolia, we are told, Alexander cast his spear into the soil and declared that all Asia belonged to him. He made a pilgrimage to the city of Troy, where he paid religious homage at the tomb of Achilles, his hero and legendary ancestor through his mother’s line. Alexander also sacrificed at the temple of Athena, where he dedicated his own armor and received in exchange a shield and weapons said to have come from the days of the Trojan War, another testament that Alexander saw himself and his campaign in Homeric terms. The assembled forces of the Anatolian satraps met the Macedonians at the river Granicus. Alexander achieved a swift victory over them, killing some 20,000, and after the main force fled, the Macedonians surrounded 15,000 Greek mercenaries. He chose to massacre them all. The tactic was not to win a battle, which he had done, but to destroy the enemy that one might never face it again, and in this case, to let it be known that no Greek should side with the Persians against a fellow Greek. Alexander declared the Ionian states liberated democracies. He appointed new governors, thereby announcing that he had assumed the role of Persia, and peaceful submission would be rewarded. Although not every city submitted, Alexander advanced toward Syria, destroying Halicarnasus on the way. As he passed through Gordium of Phrygia, so the story goes, he heard of the chariot of king Midas who had ruled Gordium 400 years earlier. The chariot was bound to its yoke by a knot of cornel bark, with its end hidden, which the Phrygians believed could be untied only by the conqueror of all Asia. According to Callisthenes, Alexander’s official historian, before departing Gordium, Alexander visited the famed chariot and its knot. After attempting for several embarrassing moments to pry the knot loose, Alexander drew his sword and slashed the knot in twain, noting that it was now loose, if not untied. Thus the legend of Alexander and the Gordian knot. The conqueror of all Asia then proceeded south, and Darius himself met Alexander near the town of Issus in Cilicia with a large army in 333. The battle was difficult for Alexander and his men. Vastly outnumbered, he was able to force the engagement along a river called Pinarus at a place favorable to his cavalry, and by daring and tactics the Macedonians won the day. Darius fled on a horse, leaving his tent, his wife, his mother, their children and servants, a horde of golden vessels, but above all, his war chest of gold coin and bullion silver in Damascus. Alexander spared the royal family, letting them retain their rank, and used the gold to pay off all his debts and employ his army for another year. Alexander continued his march south. Tripolis, Arados, Byblos, and Sidon each submitted in turn, but the ancient island city of Tyre resisted and delayed


Alexander by 7 months. His persistence and ultimate victory over the coastal city of Tyre and its fortified island redoubt demonstrated that nothing could resist the ingenuity of the Greek military might. On the final day of battle, the Macedonians slaughtered some 8000 in the streets, impaled 2000 surviving men on stakes along the beach, and in due course sold 20,000 or more women and children into slavery. Within 2 months, in late October, the walled city of Gaza in southern Palestine was taken. Again, they showed no mercy to those who did not submit. The men were slain to the last one; the women and children sold into slavery. According to his historians, Alexander slit the heels of Bastis, the ruler of the city, passed a leather thong through them which he tied to his chariot, and in imitation of Achilles’ punishment of Hector, dragged him around the city until he expired. While the kings of Persia had to reconquer Egypt repeatedly throughout their empire’s 200-year history, the ancient land of the pharaohs opened its gates to Alexander, and he received the kingdom without drawing his sword. The satrap of Pelusium on Egypt’s eastern frontier wisely offered Alexander 800 talents in exchange for safe passage. Alexander renewed his crusade as avenger of Persian impiety. When Alexander arrived in Memphis, he sacrificed to the gods, and especially to Apis, thereby restoring the honor of the sacred bull-deity who suffered from the desecrations of Cambyses. In return, Alexander was crowned Pharaoh of Upper and Lower Egypt. He founded a city on the strip of land between the Mediterranean Sea and Lake Mareotis to be called Alexandria, the first of many new cities founded throughout his empire of the same name. In his enthusiasm, Alexander marked out the broad outlines of the city himself, and Arrian claims that he did it by having his soldiers pour out the corn meal of their ration sacks along the lines he indicated, a gesture that augured well for the future of the city, in particular the export of grain to the Mediterranean world.132 Soon after, Alexander took a small military contingent west to accept the submission of Lybia, and on the return he visited the oracle of the deity Ammon at the oasis of Siwa in the Western Desert. Ammon, the Lybian god associated with Egypt’s Amun-Ra, had long been known to Greeks, and revered by many, such as the poet Pindar (whose house alone was spared by Alexander during the destruction of Thebes), who wrote a hymn to Zeus Ammon and erected a statue of him in Thebes. Alexander surely wished to know the extent to which he would be victorious in his march east. We are told that when he reached the Indus River in India, he paid homage to the “gods whom Ammon had bidden him honor,” which reinforces his sense of divine mission. But more than that, Alexander took to heart the oracular pronouncement that he was a son of Zeus Ammon.133 Early depictions of Alexander give him the horns of a ram, symbol of Ammon. Alexander returned to Memphis where he set up his administration of Egypt, and then he set his gaze eastward once again. In May 331, Alexander passed by Judaea (Yehud) on his way north to Tyre. After his victory over Tyre, Alexander had replaced the governor of Samaria with a Macedonian. While Alexander had been in Egypt, the Samaritans had risen up against the Macedonian ruler, Andromachus, and burned him alive. Alexander now responded by destroying the city of Samaria and hunting down the rebels in the caves of Wadi Dalayeh north of Jericho.134 While


we are told about this campaign only from a single historian of Alexander, Quintus Curtius Rufus, who probably published his history during the reign of Claudius, about 43 c.e., the event has been supported by archaeology in recent times and proves the occasional value of a single source. If Alexander put down this Samaritan rebellion, what did he do with the Judaeans? The historians of Alexander are silent. It is here that we may turn to Josephus for history’s only description of Alexander the Great and the Jews. During the Hellenistic age, and well into the Roman period, the romance of Alexander spawned many a local legend, and the Jews, no less than others, would not be denied their own. While Josephus has undoubtedly polished this legend to his own liking, he can hardly have invented it so late in the day of Hellenistic Judaism. He begins as follows: And Alexander, coming to Syria, took Damascus, became master of Sidon and besieged Tyre; from there he dispatched a letter to the high priest of the Jews, requesting him to send him assistance and supply his army with provisions and give him the fits which they had formerly sent as tribute to Darius, thus choosing the friendship of the Macedonians, for, he said, they would not regret this course. But the high priest replied to the bearers of the letter that he had given his oath to Darius not to take up arms against him, and said that he would never violate this oath so long as Darius remained alive. When Alexander heard this, he was roused to anger, and while deciding not to leave Tyre, which was on the point of being taken, threatened that when he had brought it to terms he would march against the high priest of the Jews and through him teach all men what people it was to whom they must keep their oaths. . . .135

After Alexander had taken Tyre and Gaza, says Josephus, he hastened to punish Jerusalem. Jaddua had by now seen the writing on the wall and called on the people to supplicate God for deliverance. In a dream, God instructed Jaddua to submit to Alexander and promised to spare the city. When Alexander approached Jerusalem, the gates opened and the high priest, dressed in his purple and scarlet robes of splendor, led a procession out to greet the conqueror. At the sight of the high priest, with the miter on his head and the golden breastplate with the name of YHWH inscribed, Alexander approached alone and prostrated himself before the Name; then he greeted the high priest. The Macedonian generals were confused, and the auxiliaries who hoped to plunder the city were vexed. Parmenio took Alexander aside and asked the meaning of this obeisance to a mere priest, when normally all men bow to the great king. To which, Alexander replied. “It was not before him that I prostrated myself but the God of whom he has the honor to be high priest.” Alexander explained that while yet in Macedonia he had seen this man in his holy vestments in a dream, and the one so dressed had encouraged Alexander to cross over confidently to Anatolia, promising to give over the empire of the Persians. Having thus explained his actions, Alexander ascended to the temple surrounded by a joyful multitude and sacrificed to God under the guidance of the priests. Thereafter, they brought out the book of Daniel to show him the prophecy that the Greeks would destroy the Persian Empire, and Alexander believed the prophecy spoke of him. The next day Alexander summoned the Jerusalem council and asked what gifts he might bestow on them. Jaddua asked only that they might


continue to observe their own customs, which included exemption from tribute during the seventh year of sabbatical rest, and that the same privilege be extended to the Jews of Persia. Alexander granted all this. He then extended an invitation to any Jews who wished to join his army while still adhering to their customs, and Josephus assures us that many joined in the service of Alexander. Because of the utter silence on a visit to Jerusalem by Alexander’s ancient historians, and the prophecy of the book of Daniel, specifically 8:21, likely composed 180 years or so later, the entire incident has been generally dismissed as typical Alexander legend. But when broken down into components of realpolitik, and the anachronism and artistic flourishes of Josephus removed, three believable points emerge; namely, the submission of Jerusalem to the new conqueror after some soulsearching deliberation, Alexander’s response to the temple of Jerusalem, and Jewish involvement in the army of Alexander with a view to aiding their coreligionists in Babylon. Alexander’s policy was to placate the gods of all peoples in the Persian Empire, and to receive the blessing of another god upon his campaign bolstered his divine mission, if for no other reasons than continuing to reward peaceful submission and leaving no hostile city on his flank as he marched east. In short, the basic scenario plausibly rests on the historical foundation that Jerusalem submitted peacefully, the tale of which got grander with each successive generation. Another version recorded in the Babylonian Talmud has the high priest lead a delegation to meet Alexander at Antipatris, a site en route from Jerusalem to Caesarea, where again Alexander bows to the high priest, who is anachronistically called Simon the Just (ca. 200 b.c.e.). And here it is the Samaritans in his company who question the act of a king bowing to a priest, but Alexander gives a similar reply that it is the image of the high priest who wins all his battles. This version also includes a conflict between the Samaritans and the Jews, so the two issues were bound together in Jewish memory, but other than the more realistic meeting outside of Jerusalem, the Talmudic legend has little to offer.136 According to Josephus, the incident took all of two days, and such a minor side excursion could easily escape notice in the grand scheme of things for later historians. Josephus includes an incident with the Samaritans at this time that is more difficult to assess but that vaguely aligns with the troubles in Samaria preserved by Quintus Curtius Rufus. The Samaritans, who by our definition are those who claim some relationship to the ancient northern kingdom of Israel and worship the god of Moses, retaining their own Pentateuch, had been in the process of defining themselves against the growing population of Judaea over two centuries. The initial Samaritan rejection of the temple in Jerusalem continued during the fifth century under the governor Sanballat and seems to have come to a decisive schism around the time of Alexander. Josephus speaks of a Sanballat (II), whose daughter married Manasseh, a brother of Jaddua the high priest of the Jews. The council of Jerusalem issued an ultimatum that Manasseh either divorce his non-Jewish wife or give up his privileges as a priest. Sanballat, however, promised to build Manasseh a temple in his territory over which he could preside as high priest. Manasseh agreed to the idea, and Josephus says that many priests and Israelites who had likewise married


non-Jews left Jerusalem and supported Manasseh. While waiting for permission from Darius to build a new temple, Alexander entered the scene. Sanballat, perhaps like Jaddua, did not think Alexander would defeat Darius, but after the battle of Issus, Sanballat, unlike Jaddua, quickly changed sides and supported Alexander with troops for his siege of Tyre. Sanballat also asked and received permission from Alexander for the new temple, which he built before the fall of Gaza, at which point he had died. Before Alexander advanced to Egypt, the Samaritans asked him for privileges similar to those given the Jews, since they were distant kin. Alexander promised to look into the matter on his return from Egypt.137 For Josephus, this marks the great schism between the Samaritans and the Jews. Although scholars now agree that more than one Sanballat was governor of Samaria during the Persian era, the marriage relationship with a member of the high-priestly family in Jerusalem is suspiciously similar to the event recorded in Neh 13:28, which Josephus leaves out of his Nehemiah narrative. Many favor the Nehemiah account, which Josephus has erroneously placed during the time of Alexander. But intermarriage was a constant concern, and such marriages among the ruling elite were not unusual. Therefore, although the precise building of the Samaritan temple and the principal schism between the Samaritans and the Jews remain obscure, we may say that by the time of Alexander, the distinction between Jews and Samaritans was finalized. And if the Samaritan rebellion recorded by Curtius Rufus is historical, the advantage for influence with Alexander went to the Jews. By May of 331, Alexander had given Darius sufficient time to marshal his largest army from all parts of the empire, thus concentrating the Persian strength in one location. Alexander met up with Darius in the plain of Gaugamela, east of the Tigris along the Persian royal road. The army of Darius numbered at a quarter million, that of Alexander at 50,000. The battle was joined, Darius fled, and the leaderless Persians were routed with upwards of 50,000 men cut down, along with some 2000 Greek mercenaries, to a loss of less than 500 for Alexander. Babylonia and Susa quickly surrendered. Alexander marched on to Persepolis, the Persian capital built by the Achaemenid dynasty located in what is today Iran. In retribution for what Xerxes had done to Athens in 480, Alexander looted and burned Persepolis. With that act of righteous vengeance, the Persian campaign was essentially over. Darius was soon murdered by his own men, and Alexander assumed his entire kingship, including Persian dress and royal etiquette such as proskynesis, the prostration before the king. Josephus preserves a brief comment taken from Hecataeus of Abdera about the Jewish soldiers in Alexander’s army. Alexander intended to rebuild the temple of Bel that had fallen into decay and ordered his soldiers to begin hauling earth. The Jews refused and willingly suffered fines and punishments until Alexander forgave them and let them be.138 For the next 7 years, Alexander proceeded to take control of the eastern empire, Bactria and Sogdiana, essentially modern Afghanistan. Alexander fell in love with the Bactrian princess Roxane and took her as his first wife, much to the resentment of his Macedonian court. In 326, Alexander crossed the Indus River at the invitation of the king of Taxila and defeated Porus, the king of an Indian people along the


river Hydaspes (Jhelum). When he heard of yet another opulent but aging empire further to the east, one unknown to Greece, the lure of further conquest overpowered Alexander. He would have marched across the Hyphasis (modern Beas) river, one of the five rivers of the Punjab Himalayas that feed the Indus, but his army refused to go any further.139 They had marched more than 11,000 miles in 8 years and met Alexander’s plea with dejected silence. When Alexander realized he had lost his men, he ordered sacrifices to determine the will of the gods. The sacrificial omens sided with the men, and Alexander turned back. His most costly error was the march through the Gedrosia desert of southern Iran, which swallowed more dead than all his battles combined. When at last Alexander reached Susa in 324, he released his faithful Macedonian troops, paid off the debts of all his soldiers, and with 80 of his officers, married Persian women. Alexander was preparing a new army to invade Arabia, and perhaps Africa, when he fell ill of a fever during a feast, and within a few days he died. With the death of Alexander on June 13, 323, according to modern historians, the classical age of Greece ended and the Hellenistic age began.

4.4 Diadochi As Alexander lay dying, Arrian tells us, his Companions asked him to whom he left his kingdom, and he replied, “to the strongest.”140 Such an answer, while in keeping with the legends of Alexander, secured nothing. There was no dearth of commanders confident they could hold and administer the newly won empire, but dynastic legitimacy stood in the way. The first potential successor was a half-brother of Alexander, Philip Arrhidaeus, a son of Philip of Macedonia and his mistress Philinna of Larissa. He was, however, a reputed half-wit, therefore incapable of assuming command. Of greater potential was the pregnant womb of Roxane, by right Alexander’s queen. If she gave birth to a son, he might hold the unity of the empire as a figurehead under the regency of others. While the Macedonian general staff deliberated, the Macedonian phalanx soldiers, who by tradition had the right to choose the next king, found Philip Arrhidaeus in Babylon and proclaimed him King Philip III. When Roxane gave birth to a son, named Alexander IV, the council of generals agreed on a plan: Perdiccas, who had obtained Alexander’s ring, would serve as regent for the two royal heirs providing the stability of succession, while the leading generals would govern the various territories. Antipater, whom Alexander had left as viceroy over Macedonia, retained his position. Lysimachus, another prominent member of Alexander’s council, received Thrace, and Antigonus Monophthalmos (“One-Eye”) kept control of Asia Minor, including Syria-Palestine. Ptolemy asked for Egypt and received it. Perdiccas appointed Craterus satrap of Cappodocia. Three generals attempted to serve as regent over Philip III Arrhidaeus and the baby Alexander IV, but four generals formed a coalition against them: Antigonus OneEye, Antipater with his son-in-law Craterus, and Ptolemy. By 320, the five principal generals, known as the Diadochi (“Successors”), were in position to expand their


power and turn provinces into kingdoms. Then the “games” began in earnest. It is perhaps here that another last word of Alexander sprang to life, as Arrian recounts: “He saw that there would be a great funeral contest on his death.” The contest would last more than 20 years, and as Josephus puts it, “while these princes ambitiously strove one against another, everyone for his own principality, it came to pass that there were continual wars.”141 Ptolemy was one of the better strategists among the principal players. He annexed Cyrene, the western province of Africa, without official sanction from the regents. He was condemned but without reprisal. Then, Alexander was to be buried in Macedonia. The impressive funeral cortege set out from Babylon, but at Damascus, Ptolemy managed to spirit away the charismatic corpse to Egypt for a pharaoh’s funeral. He claimed that Alexander had wished to be buried near the oracle of Ammon in Siwan. In the end, he kept the revered body at Memphis until he had built a suitable mausoleum in Alexandria. Perdiccas, who had been in control of Alexander’s burial, saw his power slipping away. He invaded Egypt in 320. At the Nile delta he suffered losses, 2000 from drowning and many others from crocodiles. The remaining soldiers mutinied, and his generals quickly assassinated Perdiccas. Among the army leaders was Seleucus, a young man who rose to prominence during the campaigns in Bactria and India. The elderly Antipater, viceroy of Macedonia, confirmed Ptolemy’s annexation of Cyrene and rewarded Seleucus with the satrapy of Babylon. Antipater also took charge of the titular kings Philip III and Alexander IV. Meanwhile, court intrigues fueled by Alexander’s mother, Olympias, distant rebellions, and the struggle for power kept the others occupied in Asia Minor and Macedonia. By agreement, the generals owed their positions to the regents acting on behalf of the kings, but in reality, on the time-honored principle that might makes right, geography and manpower conferred real authority. The elderly Antipater died in 319 and left the throne of Macedonia, as well as the future of Alexander’s heirs, in disarray. Philip III and his wife, Eurydice, perished in 317 at the hands of Olympias, who was determined to see her grandson succeed her son Alexander. Antipater’s son, Cassander, took Alexander IV under his protection. Ptolemy wasted no time. He advanced north and annexed Syria-Phoenicia, taking it from the satrap Laomedon. Then he waited to see how things played out in Asia Minor. By 316, Antigonus the One-Eyed had gained the most power in Asia Minor and prepared to unify the empire of Alexander under his rule. Before he threatened Babylon, he raided the treasuries of Ecbatana, Persepolis, and Susa of 25,000 talents and forced Seleucus to flee to Egypt. This power grab by Antigonus alarmed the others. They gave Antigonus One-Eye an ultimatum, that he be content with central Phrygia and give back other lands, return Seleucus to Babylon, and share all wealth taken. The ultimatum was refused, and all prepared for war. Antigonus advanced into Phoenicia, besieged Tyre, which had been garrisoned by Ptolemy, and then captured Joppa and Gaza. In 313 Tyre capitulated. The following year Ptolemy invaded the Gaza strip and defeated Demetrius, son of Antigonus, reclaiming all of Phoenicia-Palestine. With the support of Ptolemy, Seleucus then returned to Babylon and regained his rule.


In 311 all the parties agreed to a temporary truce that sustained the status quo and promised autonomy to the Greek cities. Self rule for the many Greek cities in Asia Minor was a carrot all the aspirants to power were ready to promise for the support of those cities. Cassander retained Macedonia, as regent for Alexander IV, but it was clear that the legitimacy of Alexander’s reign was little more than a pious fiction, and the following year Cassander executed the 16-year-old Alexander and his mother, Roxane. The line of Alexander had come to an end. Nothing remained but to revere his memory to one’s advantage, and that, it seems, will live on forever. By 306, the aging Antigonus called himself king and bestowed the title on his son Demetrius as well. The following year, Ptolemy became the king of Egypt with the crown name Soter (“Savior”), and soon thereafter, Seleucus enthroned himself as Nicator (“Conqueror”) of Babylon, followed by Lycimachus in Thrace and Cassander in Macedonia. The empire was officially dissolved. In 305, Antigonus sent his son Demetrius to besiege Rhodes and remove it from the influence of Ptolemy. The year-long siege, which featured the latest in Greek machine technology, ended in a stalemate settlement but earned Demetrius the nickname Poliorcetes, the “Besieger,” and he consolidated his control of Greece by removing Cassander’s support. In 302, Cassander appealed to the remnant of the Diadochi, Lysimachus, Seleucus, and Ptolemy. The end game now lay in sight. Seleucus had ceded the lands east of the Indus River to the rising power, Chandragupta, king of the Mauryan empire in north India, in exchange for a brigade of elephants, some say 500. These animals of war he marched west to join up with Lysimachus. In 301, two armies met each other on a field of Ipsus in Asia Minor for the Battle of the Kings, a final gambit to retain control of a unified Macedonian Empire. The octogenarian Antigonus One-Eye and his son Demetrius the Besieger confronted Seleucus Nicator and Lysimachus. Historians tell us the battle was decided by the elephants. Demetrius charged ahead with his forces, leaving his father’s flank exposed. Seleucus maneuvered his elephants between them, preventing Demetrius from coming to the aid of Antigonus. Old One-Eye died in a hail of missiles, and Demetrius fled the field, escaping to Ephesus. The victors divided up the lands of Antigonus. Seleucus took Syria and Lysimachus central Asia Minor, while Cassander kept Macedonia. Ptolemy, who was part of the winning coalition but had not participated in the battle of Ipsus, nevertheless controlled Phoenicia and kept it from Seleucus. Seleucus objected but did nothing to change the status quo. In this manor Judaea became subject to the king of Egypt, Ptolemy I Soter. The age of the Diadochi was, Josephus says, a generation of wars and uncertainty for all the lands conquered by Alexander. The territory of Judaea, hedged as it was between the strategic coast of Palestine and the Dead Sea, emerged largely unscathed, except for a single incident recounted by the historian Agatharchides of Cnidus, who wrote in the second century b.c.e. and used it as an example of the foolish superstition of the Jews, that they refuse to defend themselves every seventh day. On one of Ptolemy’s campaigns in the area, he took Jerusalem by deception. Ptolemy approached Jerusalem, ostensibly to offer sacrifices at the temple. Because it was the sabbath, the Jews let him enter, and he seized the city by force of arms. Ptolemy may have desecrated the temple by entering the sacred enclosures,


as hinted by a later historian, but Josephus does not say so. Ptolemy also took many captives, probably military conscripts and skilled laborers, from the hill country of Judaea and Samaria and settled them in Egypt. One account of this forced migration gives the inflated number of 100,000, with 30,000 enlisted as soldiers. Even a tenth of this, however, would have been a major shift in the Jewish population, a shift that supplemented the emerging Diaspora community.142 Just as the Jews had taken sides between Egypt and Assyria, and later Egypt and Babylon, in the seventh and sixth centuries, we must assume they took sides between Antigonus and Ptolemy and even joined in the battles between the Diadochi. If Jerusalem favored Antigonus, this would have been sufficient cause for Ptolemy to subjugate Jerusalem anew, even though the Jews had already acknowledged Alexander as the rightful king. Josephus makes the sweeping statement that the Jews received privileges for serving as auxiliaries to the kings of Asia and were even granted citizenship by Seleucus Nicator in major cities such as Antioch, with rights equal to the Macedonians who settled there.143 The claim is likely based on later developments, since the numbers of Jews remained insufficient to warrant special treatment, but it assumes the plausible notion that Jews, like the thousands of Macedonians, Greeks, and Egyptians, fought in the wars. At this stage of history, in which Jews were but one small specimen of the polyglot humanity captured in the net of Alexander, we should expect Jews to receive like rewards for like service and to settle in the newly conquered lands and cities such as Antioch in Syria and Alexandria in Egypt. Others in Judaea, as always, will have called down a curse on all foreigners. An oracle from Zechariah, which many consider to be a later addition, may reveal a Jewish response to Macedonian invasions: For I have bent Judah as my bow; I have made Ephraim its arrow. I will arouse your sons, O Zion, against your sons, O Greece, and wield you like a warrior’s sword.144

Chapter 5

Ptolemaic Era (301–201 b.c.e.)

5.1 Ptolemy I Soter Ptolemy I Soter, as pharaoh, owned all the land of Egypt except that which belonged to temples. The Egyptians had opened their gates to Alexander that he might rid them of the Persians but found themselves less enthusiastic about the Macedonian who followed. Ptolemy spent the last two decades of his reign gaining their acceptance. He restored many of the temples destroyed by the Persians and established the Serapis cult at Memphis, by which he married Greek and Egyptian religions. Ptolemy founded only one city, Ptolemais, in Upper Egypt, but he continued the building of Alexandria. The city of Alexandria became the jewel of the Hellenistic world under the Ptolemies. Inspired by the muses and financed by courtiers, Ptolemy I erected the famed lighthouse around 285 on the rock island called Pharos. It rose up in three stages, with a square base, an octagonal middle, and a cylindrical tower, crowned, some sources report, by a statue of Zeus Soter. It was probably completed and dedicated by Ptolemy II and was worthy of inclusion in the later lists of the seven wonders of the ancient world, joining the pyramids of Giza, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the statue of Zeus at Olympia (ca. 403), the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus (ca. 550), the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus (ca. 531), and the Colossus of Rhodes (ca. 282), which collapsed in an earthquake in 225. Atop the Pharos tower, said to be more than 350 feet in height, a fire burned in a chamber and, by means of mirrors, sent a beacon of light far out to sea. From the Nile delta, one entered Alexandria through the Canopic Gate, which opened to a broad avenue a hundred feet wide, that ran straight as an arrow 4 miles through the heart of the city. Other east-west avenues lay parallel, and all were intersected by north-south avenues. A causeway 1300 meters long, built over two large arches, connected the shore to the Pharos island and permitted pedestrians to reach the island as well as allowing boat traffic between the east and west harbors. The center of the city, the palace district, sheltered the official residences of the Ptolemaic government and the museum where the leading intellects of the age dwelt and explored the world around them. The buildings were made of polychrome limestone, three and four stories high.


Beneath the king stood the top official of the kingdom, the minister of economics and finance, charged with responsibility to enhance the wealth of the king and his entourage. Egypt and its provinces were divided into administrative districts, each under the oversight of a military governor and a fiscal administrator. Garrisons were set up in strategic urban centers, responsible for keeping the king’s peace. Revenue was auctioned out to tax farmers responsible for a fixed tribute to the king. The Ptolemaic tax system was notable for its complexity and efficiency. Judaea, as part of the Syria-Phoenicia province, was a temple-state owned and administered by Ptolemy. Beyond the fixed tribute, the people of Syria-Phoenicia were subject to various other taxes, a poll tax, a crown tax, and a salt tax.145 Specific taxes on vineyards, orchards, and gardens (wine, fruit, and vegetables) were often assessed by administration officials, though collected by the tax farmers. Around 300, shortly after the battle of Ipsus between the Diadochi, the Jews of Judaea settled in for what would be a century of Ptolemaic rule. The archaeological trail of coins reveals a significant change in the political administration of the land of Judah. Under Persian rule, it was a province called Yehud, but under Ptolemy, it was called Yehudah. Coins from the time of Alexander onward no longer carry the title of pakhah (“governor”), so it appears the Ptolemaic administration began dealing with the chief priest as representative of the Jewish people. As always, a small elite class of wealthy and learned Jews rubbed shoulders with their fellow elites of other lands.146 Many coins bear the image of Ptolemy and the inscription Yehudah.

5.2 Syrian and Punic Wars The third century marks the zenith of Hellenistic culture and the implosion of Hellenistic power as the Roman Republic appeared on the western horizon and the barbarians emerged in the north. In 279, hordes of Celts, whom the Romans called Gauls, the ancient Indo-Iranian nomads who migrated across Europe as early as the second millennium b.c.e., broke into Thrace and ravaged the countryside of Macedonia. One group crossed the Hellespont and settled in the mountains of Phrygia but were contained by Antiochus I Soter and his elephants to a territory soon to be called Galatia. The new threat to the Mediterranean world would be immortalized in bronze by the sculpture of the “Dying Gaul” (ca. 230–220). While control of Macedonia and the Greek city-states became the means by which Rome inserted its hegemony, as well as the focus of western history, it was of little moment to the Jews. Judaea remained within the domain of the Ptolemaic dynasty but witnessed a series of conflicts for control of the Mediterranean coast, known as the Syrian Wars, between the Ptolemaic and Seleucid dynasts. It was a time in which the Jews learned the art of Hellenistic politics, an art that would prove both useful and devastating within a century. Antiochus I, son of Seleucus I, began joint rule with his father in 292 and was given the task of securing the eastern half of the old Persian Empire stretching from the Caspian Sea to the Indian Ocean. In 281 Seleucus was assassinated, and Antiochus became the sole ruler. He soon found his domain threatened by revolts

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in northern Anatolia and then by the invasion of the Gauls. Antiochus managed to defeat the Gauls with his Indian elephant brigades but let them settle in Phrygia as a buffer state. For this victory, the other Greek city-states acclaimed Antiochus as Soter (“Savior”). In Egypt, Ptolemy II (283–246) received his sister Arsinoë (I) when she fled the Celtic invasion of Macedonia and returned to her native Egypt. There, sometime before 274, she persuaded her brother Ptolemy to repudiate his wife, also named Arsinoë, and to marry her. The incestuous marriage, besides earning him the sobriquet Philadelphus (“sister-loving”), had the advantage of imitating the divine Isis and Osiris myth for the Egyptians and that of Zeus and Hera for the Greeks. She appears on coins as Arsinoë Philadelphus (“brother-loving”) and was probably the power behind the throne. She gave her brother several children, including the heir Ptolemy III. Queen Arsinoë died in 270 and was immediately deified, though sailors already prayed to her while she lived. Ptolemy launched a campaign in 274, known as the First Syrian War, to expand his northern boundary into coastal Syria and southern Asia Minor, and he won from Antiochus I Soter the territories of Phoenicia, Cilicia, Pamphylia, and Lycia. At this time, Antiochus I was occupied with troubles in the eastern end of his unwieldy empire, despite his famous boast preserved in cuneiform Akkadian: “I am Antiochus, the Great King, the legitimate king, the king of the world, king of Babylon, king of all countries, the caretaker of the temples Esagila and Ezida, the first-born son of King Seleucus, the Macedonian, king of Babylon.”147 Antiochus I Soter died in 261, having lost control of Pergamum, Pontus, Bithynia, and Cappadocia (western and central Asia Minor). The successor to the Seleucid throne, Antiochus II Theos (261–246), relinquished the eastern lands of Bactria and Sogdiana and initiated the Second Syrian War (259–253). With the help of Antigonus Gonantas, king of Macedonia, and the people of Rhodes, he regained his control in Asia Minor of Ionia, including the prize city of Miletus, where he was hailed as Theos (God), and the territories of Greater Syria, Cilicia, and Pamphylia. Ptolemy offered Antiochus his daughter Berenice Syra in marriage, and the Seleucid king accepted. She, however, insisted that he depose his queen, Laodice, and her son Seleucus, which he also did. The two now-allied rulers then concentrated on their own national affairs and died in the same year, 246; Ptolemy Philadelphus in January, Antiochus Theos in August. Upon the death of Antiochus in Ephesus, the scorned Laodice reasserted her right of succession against the Ptolemaic Berenice and her young heir. Berenice called to her brother Ptolemy III for aid in securing the throne for her son, but by the time he reached Antioch, Berenice and the infant were dead, and Seleucus II Callinicus (“gloriously triumphant”) was enthroned. This led to the Third Syrian (Laodicean) War, in which each side gained minor victories, but Ptolemy won back the coasts of Syria and southern Asia Minor by 241. During the next 20 years of his reign, he brought the Ptolemaic dynasty to the height of its prestige and is remembered as Ptolemy III Euergetes (“benefactor”) (246–221). Meanwhile, Seleucus II remained hard pressed throughout Asia Minor until his death in 226. He lost Pergamum to its independent king Aratus I Soter. Moreover,


Antiochus Hierax (“falcon”), the brother of Seleucus II who had been made ruler of Asia Minor, rebelled against his brother with the help of Mithridates II of Pontus and the Gauls of Galatia. Seleucus suffered a defeat by the Galatians but eventually drove Antiochus Hierax out of Asia Minor and into Thrace, where he died in battle. Shortly thereafter, Seleucus III Ceraunus (“thunderbolt”) (226–223) succeeded his father, but he was soon assassinated during a war with Attalus I, king of Pergamum, and the brother of Seleucus, another Antiochus, came to the throne in 223. Antiochus III (223–187) spent his long reign engaged in battles to reclaim the vast Seleucid Empire. In the west he regained most of the territory lost in Asia Minor, and in 221, shortly after the death of Ptolemy III, he began a series of campaigns (Fourth Syrian War) to seize Syria and Phoenicia, the land rightfully his according to the peace agreement among the Diadochi after the battle of Ipsus (301). Antiochus captured Seleucia-in-Pieria, the port city of Antioch, and thereafter Tyre surrendered, along with the port city of Akko. The road to Egypt lay open. Unlike the lightning war of Alexander the Great, however, Antiochus entered into peace negotiations with the young Ptolemy IV Philopater (“father-loving”) (221–204). Ptolemy used the 2-year truce to assemble a new army under Sosibius, his most capable general. Sosibius broke with tradition by training 30,000 native Egyptians for his phalanx, rather than relying on Macedonians and mercenaries, probably because of the prohibitive expense to a weak treasury. In 217, Ptolemy IV, with an army of 55,000, met Antiochus III, with 68,000 troops, in battle at Raphia in southern Palestine, a few miles south of Gaza. Although Antiochus gained an early advantage with his cavalry and elephants, he allowed his army to be split, and in a counter offensive, the Egyptians crushed the Seleucid phalanx and rendered Antiochus a humiliating defeat. Palestine was to remain in the realm of Ptolemy IV for the rest of his reign. Ptolemy, however, did not press his advantage but settled for the return of Greater Syria. In 212 Antiochus turned his energies to the east, where he met with success. He subdued Arsaces II and forced Parthia to resume tribute, made an alliance that brought the Bactrians under his sway, and made a treaty of friendship with northern India. By 205 he had returned to his capital Seleucia-on-the-Tigris as ruler of the empire briefly held by Seleucus Nicator, for which he was called “the Great.” The decade-old conflict between Philip V of Macedonia and the Republic of Rome, the so-called First Macedonian War, came to an end, while Rome still confronted the Carthaginian, Hannibal, in the Second Punic War. In the summer of 204, Ptolemy IV was assassinated by his powerful ministers, Sosibius and Agathocles, leaving as heir the 5-year-old Ptolemy V. Egypt plunged into a bloody conflict over the right of regency, and Agathocles briefly held the regency, until an Egyptian mob lynched him. The child king was enthroned in 203, Ptolemy V Epiphanes (“God manifest”), and survived a succession of ambitious advisers serving as regent while the native Egyptians engaged in widespread insurrections. Upper Egypt, from Memphis south, essentially broke away and remained under independent pharaohs for two decades. The chaos in Egypt enticed Antiochus III to resume his claim to Greater Syria. He is said to have made a secret pact with Philip V to split up the overseas

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possessions of Egypt. In 201, Antiochus swept south into Palestine, launching the Fifth Syrian War. Once again, he was halted at Gaza by the Aetolian general Scopas, in the employ of Ptolemy. The following winter, Scopas launched a counteroffensive, recapturing many cities, including Jerusalem, and pressed north into the Galilee. But Antiochus finally defeated Scopas at Panias (modern Banias) in the upper Galilee at the head spring of the Jordan River, and the whole of Palestine came into his possession. Many Jews, Josephus tells us, sided with Antiochus and opened Jerusalem to him. “For while [Antiochus] was at war with Ptolemy Philopater and his son Ptolemy surnamed Epiphanes, they had to suffer, and whether he was victorious or defeated, to experience the same fate, so that they were in no way different from a storm-tossed ship which is beset on either side by heavy seas, finding themselves crushed between the successes of Antiochus and the adverse turn of his fortunes.”148 The Judaeans provided Antiochus with supplies for his troops and elephants, and they joined forces with him in besieging the citadel still garrisoned by Ptolemy’s soldiers until the Egyptians were expelled. Thereafter, Antiochus installed his own men in the citadel and helped the Judaeans restore Jerusalem.

5.3 The Diaspora Jews Jews continued to spread out across the Mediterranean world. Despite the paucity of evidence from this century, we know it to be true because when the sources do appear, they reveal Jews dwelling throughout the Mediterranean. There is a faint reference of Jewish participation on the side of Seleucus II and his Macedonians in Babylonia against Galatian mercenaries who probably fought for Antiochus Hierax in the so-called War of the Brothers.149 Josephus also preserves a letter from Antiochus III to Zeuxis, his governor of Lydia. In it, the king instructs Zeuxis to facilitate the transportation of two thousand Jewish families from Babylonia to Phrygia. The men were to join certain fortresses, and others set up in the important cities, and to be given land for building houses. The king also stipulates that they must be allowed to keep their own customs. The migration took place in the last decade of the third century.150 The letter, though edited in praise of Jews, contains genuine communication and a rare glimpse of the spreading Diaspora and their ready participation in imperial affairs. The relationship between Jews in Egypt and those in the homeland is complex, and little information in this century remains. Hecataeus of Abdera, a contemporary of Ptolemy, wrote that when Ptolemy gained control of Syria following the battle of Gaza in 312, many inhabitants of the land migrated to Egypt in order to take advantage of the new kingdom. In Egypt, Hecataeus met a leading priest called Ezechias (Hezekiah) who had fled Judaea or perhaps had been deported. Ezechias, after settling in Egypt, wrote to his compatriots in Judaea, describing the advantages of emigrating to Egypt, and finally, that “myriads” did move to Egypt and Phoenicia during the war years. Many scholars question the authenticity of the passage attributed to Hecataeus. Some consider it a Jewish forgery, hence “Pseudo-Hecataeus,” or at least an edited Jewish version of Hecataeus. It is agreed,


however, that Hecataeus wrote about the Jews, and the Pseudo-Hecataeus passage reflects a kernel of historical truth that contributes to the rise of the Jewish community in Egypt.151 Some Jews accompanied Alexander to Egypt and joined those who had lived in Egypt for centuries. More immigrated during the wars of the Diadochi, and many thousands came to Egypt enslaved by Ptolemy but later gained their freedom. Throughout the third century, fresh immigrants from Judaea added to their numbers, and the Jewish community of Alexandria was formed. From the first, it appears, Jews settled in the northeast quarter of the city. Later known as the Delta quarter, it stretched from the avenue to the sea and may safely be called the birthplace of the Hellenistic Jew. At some point during this era, the Jewish community of Alexandria translated the Torah into Greek. The legend of its translation would be set down in writing only during the next century in a letter by an Alexandrian Jew known as Aristeas. The Letter of Aristeas also contains a decree of Ptolemy Philadelphus by which he emancipated enslaved Jews who had come to Egypt during the campaign of his father, Ptolemy Soter. The Judaeans had been taken as booty by the Macedonian soldiers, and they were to be set free upon receipt of a stipulated purchase price. The decree has received external verification from a papyrus document dealing with the registration of slaves in Egypt during the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, so that despite some artistic enhancements by Aristeas, he refers to a historical event that marks a major development in the establishment of the Jewish community of Alexandria.152

5.4 High Priests The high priests during the Ptolemaic era functioned as princes and were, according to Josephus, a model of dynastic succession. Jaddua, the high priest who welcomed Alexander the Great, was succeeded by his son Onias I, and he in turn by his son Simon I. Because the son of Simon, another Onias, was too young for the office when Simon died, a brother, Eleazar, became high priest, and after he died, Manasseh, an uncle, served as high priest until Onias II was old enough. He was followed by his son Simon II, and he in turn by his son Onias III. The years they held the office, however, are not known. Onias I (ca. 300–265) may have made far-reaching gestures of diplomacy among the Hellenistic kingdoms in an effort to gain respect for Judaea. Later sources preserve such a diplomatic exchange between Areus I, king of the Spartans, and the Jews. According to the letter, “It has been found in writing concerning the Spartans and the Jews that they are brothers and are of the family of Abraham.” It then proposes that each people pledge its wealth (livestock and property) to each other’s welfare. The advantage of such a diplomatic exchange for the Jews can only have been prestige, but for Areus it may have been an invitation for Jews, whose military prowess was already established, to join his Spartan army as mercenaries. While the letter may be genuine, the common ancestry of Abraham is not. The curious suggestion, however, may have arisen from a legend spawned in the deep

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well of mythical etymologies and preserved by Hecataeus of Abdera, who listed the early Greeks, Cadmus and Danaus, among those foreigners, including the Jews, expelled from Egypt due to the plagues. In Greek lore, Cadmus became the founder of Thebes in Boeotia (associated, perhaps with the Thebes of Egypt). Danaus, a brother of Aegyptus (eponym of the Egyptians), was the ancestor of the Danaids, who founded two Spartan dynasties. Whether or not this is the source, the legend adds to the widespread legacy of Abraham that would embrace Pergamenes, the Arabs, and even the Parthians.153 Simon I (fl. 265–?) receives from Josephus the epithet “the Just.”154 Although Josephus has little to say about Simon the Just other than confirm his obvious virtue, he is highly lauded in rabbinic traditions, and a Simon the high priest is likewise praised by the author of Sirach. Both traditions imply that Simon the Just lived closer to the end of the Ptolemaic era than at the start, and scholars have generally thought Josephus erred, and Simon “the Just” is the descendant, Simon II (ca. 221–204).155 Eleazar (fl. ?–246) is remembered because he was the high priest who communicated with Ptolemy concerning the translation of the Torah into Greek. Of Manasseh, nothing is known. Onias II (?-ca. 221) became allied with the Tobiad clan through the marriage of his sister, and this produced a new ruling power in Judaea that controlled the temple and much of the land.156 The marriage alliance suggests the office of high priest was losing prestige, and the wealth of the Tobiads was brought in to bolster it. Onias II is well known, but only through the tale of the Tobiads.

5.5 Tale of the Tobiads We have some evidence of the close Jewish relations between Egypt and Judaea. A cache of papyri dated to the reign of Ptolemy II Philadelphus contained the business transactions of Zenon, an agent for Apollonius, the Egyptian minister of finance. In 259 Zenon toured Palestine and Transjordan, and his records preserve two letters from a certain Toubias that enumerate a gift to the king: Toubias to Apollonius, greeting. Just as you wrote me to send presents for the king in the month of Xandikos, I sent on the tenth of Xandikos my man Aineas with two horses, six dogs, one wild mule [born] out of a donkey, two white Arabian donkeys, two foals [born] out of wild mules, one foal [born] out of a wild ass, but they are tame. I have sent to you also the letter written by me about the presents to the king, and likewise also a copy of it [for you] so that you may be informed. Goodbye. Year 29, Xandikos 10 [May 12, 257 b.c.e.].157

Tobias, a wealthy and important Jew, a prince, appears to be at a comfortable level with a powerful minister of Egypt. This Tobias is most likely the father of Joseph son of Tobias who plays an important role in the relations between Jerusalem and Alexandria during the Ptolemaic era. There are also good reasons to believe that Tobias is a descendant of Tobiah “the Ammonite Servant” who joined Sanballat,


the governor of Samaria, in opposing Nehemiah’s reforms. If so, we have the enduring, if sporadic, report of a major clan of wealthy Jews throughout the Persian and Hellenistic periods whose reputation eventually spawned a literary work known as the Tobiah Romance. Only Josephus preserves the tale, and even though he erroneously sets it during the time of Antiochus III, and though he retains, or adds, a good deal of poetic license, the story is generally accepted as historical and enlightens an otherwise obscure period. The story begins with a crisis in Jerusalem. The high priest, Onias II (a contemporary of Ptolemy III Euergetes), has refused to pay a personal tribute of 20 talents to the king, which his fathers had paid; a tribute probably linked to his political office as head of the temple-state. Ptolemy threatened to confiscate some land and parcel it out to his soldiers. When the people of the area heard of this, they were dismayed, but Onias was unperturbed. At this point, Joseph the Tobiad, the young and enterprising hero of the tale, enters the scene. Now there was a certain Joseph, who was still a young man but because of his dignity and foresight had a reputation for uprightness among the inhabitants of Jerusalem, his father being Tobias, and his mother a sister of the high priest Onias; and, when his mother informed him of the envoy’s arrival—for he himself happened to be away in the village of Phichola, from which he had originally come—he went to the city [of Jerusalem] and upbraided Onias for not regarding the safety of his fellow-citizens and for being willing, instead, to place the nation in danger by withholding the money on account of which, Joseph said, he had received the chief magistracy and had obtained the high-priestly office. As Onias, however, answered that he did not desire to hold office and said that he was ready to give up the high-priesthood if that were possible, and would not go to the king, for he was in no way concerned about these matters, Joseph asked him whether he would give him leave to go as an envoy to Ptolemy on behalf of the nation. And when Onias gave his permission, Joseph went up to the temple and, calling the people together in assembly, exhorted them not to be disturbed or frightened. . . .158

Joseph first befriended the envoy of Ptolemy who was still in Judaea, entertaining him at great expense for many days. The envoy returned to Egypt and informed the king about the arrogance of Onias, but also the excellence of Joseph, thus preparing the way. Joseph then raised funds from friends in Samaria, for the friendship between the Tobiads and the Samaritans went back to the days of Nehemiah. When Joseph reached Egypt, he found that magistrates from the cities of Syria and Phoenicia had come to bid on the tax-farming rights, which the king sold every year. Ptolemy happened to be in Memphis, and Joseph immediately went up to see him, where he charmed the king and his wife. When Ptolemy complained about Onias, Joseph replied, “Pardon him because of his age; for surely you are not unaware that old people and infants are likely to have the same level of intelligence. But from us who are young you will obtain everything so as to find no fault.” And the king delighted in him all the more. When the day came for the bidding on rights to reap the king’s taxes, Joseph accused the others of bidding low by prior agreement and promised that he could give double their proposed sum. The king granted Joseph the tax-farming rights

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and even waved off the customary surety demanded of the winner in lieu of the tribute. Joseph returned to Judaea with a king’s army of 2000 soldiers in order to enforce the tribute. In the end, he used the necessary force to extract the tribute from the cities, executing nobles who refused to pay and confiscating their property for the crown. He collected great sums, became wealthy in the process, and used his money to secure the powerful office of tax farmer for 22 years. During this time he raised seven sons by one wife, and an eighth, named Hyrcanus, by a second wife, who turned out to be his niece. As it happened—and here the romance presses on—while visiting Alexandria, Joseph fell in love with a dancing girl. Although forbidden by law to have sex with a foreign woman, his desire overpowered him. One of his brothers had come down to Alexandria with him, bringing a daughter whom he hoped to marry off to a wealthy Alexandrian Jew. Joseph confided in his brother the lust he had for the foreign dancer and asked for help in gaining access to her while yet concealing his sin. His brother agreed, but out of brotherly protection, he brought his own daughter to Joseph in the night, and Joseph, being sufficiently drunk, relieved his longing and “fell still more violently in love with her.” When Joseph learned the truth, he was grateful to his brother and married his niece, by whom he had the son Hyrcanus. As the story continues, the avant-garde Hyrcanus becomes his father’s favorite, and like his father, he retained the intimate friendship of the Ptolemies, and probably the tax-farming rights. After Hyrcanus spent a huge sum of the family money on a gift for the king, his half-brothers sought to kill him, but in the fratricide war that followed, he killed several brothers. This conflict not only split the family loyalties but also divided the people in Judaea. By now, after the death of Joseph, we have reached the last decade of the century, and Antiochus III is eying the land of Syria. The contest between the Seleucids and the Ptolemies has split the Jews, so that the surviving Tobiad brothers are now leading a pro-Seleucid party, while Hyrcanus remains loyal to the Ptolemies. The tale bears a number of parallels with biblical tales of Jacob and Joseph, which undermine its historical value, and other blatant errors and chronological difficulties convince some scholars that it is simple fiction.159 However, Onias and the Tobiads are real and display the normal conflicts and intrigue of powerful men engaging the Hellenistic kings and Jews outside of Judaea. If there is a historical substratum of realpolitik beneath the tale, as many scholars accept, the Tobiads at least managed to weaken the authority of the high priest and transfer authority to the princes of the land, hence a classic power struggle between religious authorities and the natural leaders of elite among the people. But even if it is entirely fiction, it is a tale worth retelling; for the novella realistically portrays the Jews as able Hellenists and helps pave the way to the next century, when our knowledge of the history blossoms and the political intrigue in Jerusalem will cause the Tale of the Tobiads to pale by comparison.

Synthesis of Part One

Religious Development—Foundations I (640–201 b.c.e.)

S1.1 The Axial Age The 440 years from Josiah to the end of Ptolemaic rule marks the great transition of the people called Israel to their descendants called Jews. It was the Jewish version of a world transition of human thought often called the Axial Age (800–200), a word coined by the German philosopher Karl Jaspers to describe the pivotal change from cosmological worldviews in which we imagine divine beings according to what we observe in the cosmos, to transcendental worldviews in which we posit a single divine being (or an ultimate reality) beyond what we see, but which must be there as the foundation (or first cause) of the visible cosmos. The leap was made, it is argued, independently from the Far East to the Mediterranean West, from China to Greece. It included such known figures as Lao Tzu, Confucius, Siddhartha Guatama (the Buddha), possibly Zarathustra (Zoroaster), the Hebrew prophets from Hosea to Jeremiah and above all Deutero-Isaiah, and the Greek philosophers Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle.

S1.1.1 Greek Transition The Greeks leapt to the transcendent in their own inimitable way. Greek thinkers had introduced to humanity a rational wonderment about the world, while poets and artists bequeathed an aesthetic appreciation of the world that is still called classical. The dialogues, plays, geographies, histories, and compendia of medical cures questioned and organized all human knowledge. Scrolls proliferated, and libraries boasted of thousands, tens of thousands, and even hundreds of thousands of volumes. When Ptolemy II built his magnificent museum and library in Alexandria, his librarian Demetrius admitted to 200,000 volumes but promised to accumulate 500,000, so that all of human knowledge could be sheltered beneath a single roof—a quest that brought the Torah into the Greek tongue. Philosophers knocked relentlessly on the gates to Mount Olympus. Some salvaged the myths of Homer and Hesiod by means of allegory. Others, such as Xenophanes (ca. 570–478), plainly uprooted the divine stories. “Homer and Hesiod have attributed to the Gods everything that is a shame and reproach among men, theft and adultery and mutual deception.” Furthermore, “the Ethiopians represent

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their Gods as flat-nosed and black; the Thracians say theirs have blue eyes and red hair.” On the contrary, there is “one God, greatest among both Gods and men, resembling mortals neither in form nor in thought.”160 Xenophanes boldly imagined, “The substance of God is spherical, in no way resembling man. He is all eye and all ear, but does not breathe; he is the totality of mind and thought.”161 This cannot be considered far from the vision of his contemporary, Deutero-Isaiah, though it tends toward pantheism more than monotheistic personal singularity. As Aristotle would later observe, Xenophanes gazed upon the universe and said, “The one is God.”162 The pupil of Xenophanes, Parmenides, is said to have been “the first to declare that the earth is spherical and is situated in the center of the universe.”163 Socrates and Plato imagined a theoretical perfection which they called the Ultimate Good, or God, a rarified philosophical monotheism worthy of thinking men. It was more or less in the same era that the Greeks rationalized divine myths through allegory and the author of Genesis 1 wrote the Jewish prologue to human existence. The two camps of rational inquiry were not often in communication (though we cannot say how much or how little), but the goal appears to have been the same, to remove the embarrassing stories of anthropomorphic gods and elevate human origins. The philosophy of classical Greece was followed by schools of thought that permeated the Hellenistic world and that, like seeds, spawned new schools of thought among the Jews. One seed was skepticism. Among the artists and intellectuals in the train of Alexander the Great was Pyrrhon of Elis (ca. 365–275), a painter, educated somewhat in philosophy under Anaxarchus, who also went with Alexander. Together, says Diogenes Laertius, they conversed with the magi of Persia and the sages, or gymnosophists as the Greeks called them, of India. From such encounters, Pyrrhon developed an agnosticism that takes the form of a suspension of judgment: nothing is knowable in its essence, but only through human convention; likewise no action is more right, but humans follow a comfortable custom. All values, like beauty, are in the eye of the beholder—a relativism not so different from postmodern modernity. “The Sceptics, then, were constantly engaged in overthrowing the dogmas of all schools, but enunciated none themselves; and though they would go so far as to bring forward and expound the dogmas of others, they themselves laid down nothing definitely, not even the laying down of nothing.”164 Pyrrhon wrote nothing, but among his students was Hecataeus of Abdera, whom we know had positive associations with Jews.165 Another seed of thought was Epicureanism. Epicurus (341–270), an Athenian by birth, was born on the Aegean island of Samos, studied philosophy in various places, and finally settled in Athens around 306. He and his followers, along with slaves and women, avoided the tumults of Athenian city life by living communally in a large house with a cloistered garden where they discussed philosophy. For Epicurus the aim of the good life, the “alpha and omega,” was the state of pleasure. Pleasure he defined as the “absence of pain in the body and of trouble in the soul.” Wisdom, or prudence, permits us to avoid most physical pain, and we can endure what we cannot avoid. Trouble of the soul comes from fear, and the main fears are of death and the gods, with which calamities of nature are associated, such as the


lightning bolts of Zeus. Epicurus sought to remove fear from the human condition, and his philosophy toward that end could be summed up as the tetrapharmakos, his fourfold cure: there is nothing to fear from the gods; there is nothing to feel in death; the good life may be attained; evil may be endured. He did not abolish belief in the gods but rendered them benign. He accepted the atomism of Democritus that all existence is compose of atoms, and the cosmos, including mortals and gods, came about by the chance collision of atoms. Humans are comprised of body atoms and more rarified soul atoms. The gods should be seen in the likeness of perfect humans (so their language must be similar to Greek), but they live in their own blissful part of the cosmos, without a care for humanity: they neither help nor harm. Tyche (Chance, Fortune) is not a god, as most men believed, but the basic state of the random movement of atoms in the universe. Epicurus denied divine Providence, or divine creation. Matter is eternal; nothing comes from nothing. As for death, it is the absence of sentience, abject nonexistence. At death the atoms of body and soul dissipate back into the randomness of the cosmos. Death should no more be feared than sleep. A third seed was Stoicism. Zeno of Citium, Cyprus (ca. 336–263), began teaching his philosophy in the Stoa Poecile (Painted Porch) of the Athenian Agora, and for his regular presence there, the building lent its name to his disciples, who became known as Stoics. The religious aspect of his philosophy was a form of pantheism: all is God, and God is all that exists. Because metaphysical thought was still elementary, God should be understood as a substance like fire, and like heat, God diffused himself throughout the cosmos. But God was also Pure Reason (Logos), or the fiery Mind (Nous) of the universe. Diogenes Laertius epitomizes Zeno’s thought as follows: God is one and the same with Reason, Fate, and Zeus; he is also called by many other names. In the beginning he was by himself; he transformed the whole of substance through air into water, and just as in animal generation the seed has a moist vehicle, so in cosmic moisture God, who is the seminal reason (spermatikos logos) of the universe, remains behind in the moisture as such an agent, adapting matter to himself with a view to the next stage of creation. Thereupon he created first of all the four elements, fire, water, air, earth. They are discussed by Zeno in his treatise On the Whole.166

God disperses himself through the cosmos via the substance of Pneuma, Wind, Breath, or Spirit, and God governs the world according to a predetermined plan. In such a universe, mankind was always in contact with God, and the good life was lived in consonance with God, or with Nature, or Zeus. As Zeno says, God does go by many names. Stoicism also allowed for lesser gods, known as daemons, and these included the celestial lights. The daemons were both good and evil, and as such, could affect the human condition, and they did communicate by divination or dream. In the eternal scheme of things, God fluctuates between two divine states: God is first alone in his perfect state, then creates the cosmos out of his divine Fire, and God again retracts the cosmos into his eternal divine state, until at another moment, the Divine plan would repeat itself, over and over. On the fate of the soul, Stoics were divided. Some denied that any soul survives death, while others claimed


some souls survived in the air until the next Conflagration, when all things, souls and daemons, were reabsorbed into the divine Fire. The fourth seed comes not from a recognized philosopher but a novelist, and something of a nascent atheist: Euhemerus of Messene (early third century b.c.e.). Euhemerus served in the court of Cassander, king of Macedonia (311–298), and may have written over the next two decades. He wrote of his imaginary journey to the Island of Panchaea in the uncharted Indian Ocean, populated by an imaginary tribe. While visiting a temple at the center of the island he saw a golden column on which he found written the history of the great kings of the land who had been deified and their deeds recorded by a grateful people, hence the title of his romance, “Sacred Scripture.” The names began with Uranus, Cronus, Zeus and Apollo, and worked through the pantheon. King Uranus (Heaven) had been a keen star gazer and induced his people to worship the celestial bodies. After his death, his grandson, Zeus, established a religious cult and gave his name Uranus to the heavens. Euhemerus demythologized the rest of the gods—Aphrodite, for example, had given men the institution of brothels—and he declared that the entire Greek pantheon were deified human beings. A few voices decried the impiety of Euhemerus, but in due course the novel became very popular, especially among early Christians who took it as serious evidence for the origin of polytheism, and he entered the modern vocabulary as euhemerism, the theory that all gods of mythology were once human beings. At the time, this view of the gods facilitated the trend toward deification of Hellenistic kings that thrived in Egypt and Asia and continued in Roman times with emperor worship.

S.1.1.2 Hebrew Transition The leap to transcendence in the Hebrew understanding is shown in the origin of humanity. In the old worldview, the god Yahweh fashioned a human being out of clay, and upon seeking a mate for Adam among the other animals but finding none, fashioned a woman out of the man’s rib (Gen 2). In the new worldview, the God who exists beyond (and before) the cosmos created the universe by command, “Let there be light,” and finally the human being, male and female, in the image of God (Gen 1). In the old view of God, Yahweh could be described as a “man of war.”167 Yahweh was part of a pantheon presided over by the god El, and when the nations were divided among the gods, Yahweh received the people of Jacob/Israel as his portion.168 In the new view, only one divine being deserves the name of God, Yahweh, and beside him there is no god, and Yahweh chose Israel from among all the nations of the earth to be his people.169 The people of Israel during the biblical era (the Iron Age) lived in a polytheistic world and believed many gods existed. Each people had its god, and Israel’s god was Yahweh. The struggle for Israel was to be faithful to its god, to worship Yahweh only, a cultic system called henotheism, in which only one God is to be worshiped among the many that might be worshiped, or monolatry, the practice of worshiping only one God. The gods were often placed within a hierarchy, a pantheon, reflecting


human hierarchies of power. But during this age, the old pantheons bowed to a transcendent Being so much higher than other divine beings that the word God ought to be exclusively reserved for this Most High God. In this way we suppose monotheism was born in the Hebrew mind, but the Hebrew mind understood it as divine revelation first given to their patriarch Abraham. The transformation in Israel may be called the first Haskalah (Enlightenment). At this time, religion, the means of making peace with the gods, fell under human scrutiny. Human scrutiny, of course, reflects the human condition rather more than divine reality.

S1.2 Hebrew Scripture As the trauma of exile healed, and a new generation was born, and the prophets told of a restoration, the exile became a time of new beginnings. Scribes, whose business it is to keep records, began a new compilation of the court histories and the traditions of the people of Israel. In due course this labor will produce the Hebrew Scriptures, but the process of “Scripture” is obscure because it began as common, or communal, tradition within an oral society. Few members of ancient society were privy to the art of writing and reading. Significant writing was largely confined to the royal court, to keep track of royal affairs and royal accomplishments or issue royal decrees. Most of what people knew of their past they learned from the previous generation in poetry or narrative traditions. People could hear and remember, and in the case of the laws of God, the people could hear and obey. The Hebrew verb “to hear” is often and rightly translated “to obey.” “Now therefore, if you will obey [hear] my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my own possession among all peoples. . . .”170 Authority that compelled obedience came from the previous generation with the assurance that the traditions ultimately came from God. An observant member of the community needed nothing more. The authority lay in the voice of the oral communication. The oral tradition was communal, therefore anonymous, except when spoken by God. Even when God spoke, the person through whom he spoke was irrelevant. Prophets were humbly anonymous until identified by later scribes. Oral tradition, when written down, lost much of its authority. Who is to say that these markings on a piece of parchment written long ago came from our ancestors, much less from God? Who is to say they are true? Socrates reminds us of the great loss in the transition from oral to written word. Phaedrus: It is easy for you, Socrates, to make up tales from Egypt or anywhere else you fancy. Socrates: Oh, but the authorities of the temple of Zeus at Dodona, my friend, said that the first prophetic utterances came from an oak tree. In fact the people of those days, lacking the wisdom of you young people, were content in their simplicity to listen to trees or rocks, provided these told the truth. For you apparently it makes a difference who the speaker is, and what country he comes from; you don’t merely ask whether what he says is true or false.

Religious Development—Foundations I 81 Phaedrus: I deserve your rebuke, and I agree that the man of Thebes is right in what he said about writing. Socrates: Then anyone who leaves behind him a written manual, and likewise anyone who takes it over from him, on the supposition that such writing will provide something reliable and permanent, must be exceedingly simple-minded; he must really be ignorant of Ammon’s utterance, if he imagines that written words can do anything more than remind one who knows that which the writing is concerned with. Phaedrus: Very True. Socrates: You know, Phaedrus, that’s the strange thing about writing, which makes it truly analogous to painting. The painter’s products stand before us as though they were alive, but if you question them, they maintain a most majestic silence. It is the same with written words; they seem to talk to you as though they were intelligent, but if you ask them anything about what they say, from a desire to be instructed, they go on telling you just the same thing forever. And once a thing is put in writing, the composition, whatever it may be, drifts all over the place, getting into the hands not only of those who understand it, but equally of those who have no business with it; it doesn’t know how to address the right people, and not address the wrong. And when it is ill-treated and unfairly abused it always needs its parent to come to its help, being unable to defend or help itself.171

The idea of authorship, hence authority, arose in response to the transfer of tradition from the oral to the written word. For the descendants of Israel, Moses became the authority, hence the author, of their earliest written traditions. The truth that Socrates put forward, that a written word is useless without a living interpreter who knows what it means, will be borne out by Jews in the concept of oral Torah, and by Christians in apostolic authority and the teachings of the church.

S1.2.1 Torah The early concept of Torah outside the Pentateuch is found in the covenant renewal ceremony under the leadership of Joshua, the successor to Moses, that combined early oral and written tradition. The people replied to Joshua, “Yahweh our God is the one whom we shall serve; his voice we shall obey!” That day Joshua made a covenant for the people; he laid down a statute and ordinance for them at Shechem. Joshua wrote these words in the Book of the Law of God (sefer torat elohim). He then took a large stone and set it up there, under the oak tree in Yahweh’s sanctuary. Joshua then said to all the people, “Look, this stone will be a witness to us, since it has heard all the words that Yahweh has spoken to us: it will be a witness against you, in case you should deny your God.” Joshua then dismissed the people, every one to his own heritage.172

The enduring stone set up by Joshua has heard the words (diberim) spoken by Yahweh that day and will bear witness to future generations. Later generations, however, did not remember. “But Jehu was not careful to walk in the law of the


Lord (torat Yahweh) the God of Israel with all his heart; he did not turn from the sins of Jeroboam, which he made Israel to sin.”173 The external evidence for the Torah delivered by Moses and collected in a book comes out of Babylonia on the shoulders of Ezra.174 “And they stood up in their place and read from the book of the law of the Lord (sefer torat Yahweh) their God for a fourth of the day; for another fourth of it they made confession and worshiped the Lord their God” (Neh 9:3). All we can say of Ezra’s book of Torah is that it contained some form of the book of Deuteronomy, but not precisely the book later translated into Greek or that surfaces in the Dead Sea Scrolls library. Deuteronomy refers to the “Book of the Torah” written at the direction of Moses and bequeathed to the priests, and to be read when Israel arrives in the promised land.175 In the context of the book, Torah refers to the laws that had been expounded, or rehearsed; hence the second giving of the law (deutero nomos) by Moses at the end of his life. Obedience to these laws will bring blessings, disobedience will bring curses. The book of Joshua picks up the reference to Torah, and then we hear nothing of it until a book is discovered in the temple during the reform of Josiah.176 At some point during the century following Ezra, the Torah included five books of Moses (Pentateuch): Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. These books contained the ancient foundation traditions, both oral and written, of the people of Israel. The process of their written formation remains an unsettled focus of modern biblical criticism, but in general we assign completion and acceptance to around 400. In this Torah we have a myth of origins, a sacred narrative from the first human pair, Adam and Eve, a survival story of the great flood, and the eponymous ancestors of the Israelites, Abram (“exalted father”) whom Yahweh renamed Abraham (“father of a great nation”) and his descendant Jacob, whom Yahweh renamed “Israel.” Israel’s sons became tribes during a 400-year captivity in Egypt, and under the leadership of Moses, an Egyptian-born prince of the tribe of Levi, the tribes became a cohesive nation as they left Egypt under the protection of Yahweh. During a 40-year wandering in the desert, the original general died, and a second generation appropriated a body of laws given them by Moses.

S1.2.2 Prophets S1.2.2.1 Sacred History Among the great literary works to emerge in the sixth century is the first history of Israel known in biblical scholarship as the Deuteronomistic History, comprised of the books of Joshua, Judges, 1 and 2 Samuel, and 1 and 2 Kings, which are assumed to have been prefaced by the book of Deuteronomy. Because such histories were funded by and produced for a royal house, the initial impetus for the history may have come during the renaissance of the Yahweh cult under the reign of Josiah. If so, the scribal school attached to the royal house of David later produced in exile another edition, or from their perspective, continued to keep the history alive through changes conducive to life. Other scholars think the initial composition began in the exile. Either way, it was during this time of crisis that a history


became necessary to provide perspective of the past and hope for the future. The Book of the Law (Torah) discovered during the reign of Josiah became the seed for the history of Israel, which is perhaps the oldest history in the world. Herodotus would later write his histories in response to the upheaval of the Persian wars, just as Thucydides and Josephus in their own days would write histories.177 The major theme of the Deuteronomistic History declares that Israel suffered defeat when it disobeyed the covenant laws of Yahweh and was restored to favor when it repented and obeyed. The authors of this history were primarily concerned to establish the exclusive worship of Yahweh and the purity of the descendants of Israel. It forms the nucleus of Jewish distinction from the rest of the nations (goyim). The Deuteronomistic scribes drew on written sources from previous generations. Some traditions are traced back to the northern tribes of Israel, in which the name El, and Elohim, for the God of Israel dominates. Other traditions speak of Yahweh as the God of Israel. These traditions are known as E (Elohim) and J (= Jahweh = Yahweh). A group of scribes who show a predilection for priestly concerns, laws, and rituals edited or composed their own narrative, a tradition called P. Another circle of scribes are identified as the Deuteronomists because of their association with the book of Deuteronomy, and the history that follows in the books of Joshua through Kings. The so-called Documentary Hypothesis describes four major written traditions, J, E, P, and D. A second collection of traditions focused on the patriarchal narratives of Israel’s oral history. The traditions associated with J, E, and P are found throughout the book of Genesis as well. Most scholars accept the verdict that Abraham is an exilic phenomenon and that all biblical references are postexilic. We cannot, however, affirm that Abraham is an exilic invention. The oral tradition of the patriarchs disappears amid the ancestral shadows, though Jacob was known to Hosea (12:3–7) and Isaac and Joseph to Amos (5:6; 7:9, 16), both of whom were prophets to the northern kingdom of Israel. The exilic interest in the ancestors is easily explained by the need for unified identity among the exiled Judaeans who were always in danger of assimilation. Therefore, the patriarchal traditions surface in the literary milieu of the exile, and their collection into the book of Genesis met the need of their day, best described by the fact that Abraham is portrayed leaving Babylon for the land of promise. Just as Abraham, the father of many nations, departed at God’s command, so his descendants should follow his example when the time is right. S1.2.2.2 Divine Oracles The prophet Jeremiah served as the voice of Yahweh in Judah, while Ezekiel spoke for Yahweh in the Babylonian exile. The exiles should not give up hope in Yahweh. They should pray for the welfare of Babylon so that in it they would find their welfare. The time of exile would be but a full generation of 70 years, after which God would restore them to the land of Israel. But only the pure in heart would return. One of the oracles of Jeremiah that would have a great impact on the development of Christianity is the “new covenant” oracle, possibly delivered in the months


after the fall of Jerusalem at the time of the commemoration of the reading of Torah enjoined in Deuteronomy 31:9–13. With the failure of the covenant renewal of Josiah’s reform and the fulfillment of his prophecy that Jerusalem would be destroyed, Jeremiah looked beyond the judgment of Yahweh to the restoration of Israel and Judah. Behold, the days are coming—declares Yahweh—when I will make with the house of Israel and the house of Judah a new covenant. Not like the covenant which I made with their fathers on the day that I grasped them by their hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant which they broke, though I ruled them like a husband—declares Yahweh. But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days— declares Yahweh: I will put my instruction (torah) within them, and upon their hearts I will write it. Then I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer will they teach, one to a neighbor and another to a sibling, saying, “Know Yahweh,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest of them—declares Yahweh—for I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more.178

Nowhere else in the corpus of the Hebrew Scriptures does the phrase “new covenant” (brit hadasha) occur, but Jeremiah has buttressed the idea with numerous calls for a renewal of the intimacy between Yahweh and his people. What is new about the promised covenant is that the instruction of Yahweh will be known by all, written upon their hearts, and no longer ignored. The new covenant will be made with the houses of Israel and Judah, stressing the people without kingdom organization. The metaphor of written upon their hearts is similar to circumcision of the heart, in which the will of God is the same as the will of the member of God’s people. The new covenant also looks forward to the ingathering of all Israel, a precondition for complete restoration (a point made explicit in the parallel passage of 32:37–41 where it is called an “everlasting covenant”), and as such it is eschatological. It is not clear how such an indeterminate covenant renewal was received at the time or how many even heard it. When coupled with Jeremiah’s prediction that the exile would last three generations, or seventy years, any promise of restoration would have been a distant hope to be realized only by future generations. But the oracle was written in a book at the command of Yahweh (30:2) known as the Book of Consolation (chapters 30–31), and was preserved within the anthology of Jeremiah’s oracles. In due course it gave a prophetic justification for a new covenant people, first used by the community behind the Damascus Document of the Dead Sea Scrolls, and soon after by the followers of Jesus of Nazareth. The generation that listened in hope to the prophets Ezekiel and Jeremiah also remembered the prophets who spoke to their ancestors. The preexilic prophets, Hosea, Amos, Micah, and Zephaniah, had met rejection by the majority of the people, and their oracles were preserved by the small groups who supported them, by those known as the sons of the prophets. Because the prophets had predicted the doom that had fallen on the people, their words were now considered the word of God. Scribes in exile collected and edited the oracles into a small canon of the Book of the Four: Hosea, Amos, Micah, and Zephaniah. These prophets, among the Twelve that comprise the book of the Minor Prophets, were introduced by


the “Word of Yahweh that came . . .” and were dated by the reigns of the kings of Israel and Judah. Even though most scholars accept later editions of, and additions to, these four, this theoretical book represents the origin of the biblical prophetic traditions. The prophetic oracles of Ezekiel and Jeremiah were collected and edited during the exile, and probably during the period of restoration. Among the Latter Prophets, however, Jeremiah alone takes the pains to have his prophecies recorded by a scribe so they may be read to the people.179 During the early Persian era, the oracles of other prophets, with the exception of the book of Jonah, were likewise collected and preserved to complete the Book of the Twelve. The book of Isaiah is the most difficult of the Prophets to assess. The prophet Isaiah son of Amoz flourished during the reigns of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah in Judah (ca. 750–700 b.c.e.). The oracles of Isaiah were, like the other prophets of that time, preserved, presumably by a group of followers. The book of Isaiah, however, includes many later prophetic oracles and external narratives, and as a literary whole, it is probably to be dated in the later fifth century, after the advent of Ezra, perhaps as late as during the time of Nehemiah (ca. 445–435). The second portion of oracles, chapters 40–55, Deutero-Isaiah (also called Second Isaiah), are thought to come from an individual, or school, that flourished in the late exilic years (ca. 550–500) and were devoted to the traditions of Isaiah. This anonymous prophet may have discovered the loosely preserved oracles of Isaiah, and by them felt called by Yahweh to resume Isaiah’s mission.180 The voice of Deutero-Isaiah is the voice of the exile, commissioned by heaven to prophesy to the people in exile: Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.181

This poet-prophet par excellence sees the hand of Yahweh at work in the restoration of his people. He calls on Israel to arise and be the salvation of Yahweh to bear witness to the nations of the earth. Cyrus of Persia is the Lord’s anointed, raised up to release the captives of Judah. Israel, servant of Yahweh, is to become God’s witness to the nations. Turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth! For I am God, and there is no other.182 This declaration of monotheism may be the first in the history of Israel, and even in human consciousness, to state a belief in only one God. In its historical context, however, such few statements probably “do not herald a new age of religion but explain Yahwistic monolatry in absolute terms.”183 As far as Israel is concerned, there are no other deities. Whether or not the far-seeing prophet denies the very existence of other gods, he has extended the horizons of the sovereignty of the God of Israel into what may be called universalism. DeuteroIsaiah has saddled the universal sovereignty of Yahweh upon the back of his servant Israel, and this challenge will have to be taken up by many a Jew in the centuries to follow, some of whom will be the forerunners of Christianity. Deutero-Isaiah contains four poems known as the Servant Songs, which are among the most difficult passages to interpret, but that also had a profound impact on the development of Christianity.184 Especially so, the Fourth Servant Song, which, as has been noted, “will remain controversial until kingdom come.”185 The


original context is almost irrelevant in light of the importance the songs would come to have, but the thrust of the songs admonishes the servant, whether the individual leader, his group, or all who comprise faithful Israel, to bear witness to the work of God and remain faithful even in suffering, because the hand of the Lord cannot be thwarted. A plausible solution to the authorship of the Servant Songs is that of an individual who composed the first three songs but died without having been accepted by the people of Israel. The Fourth Servant Song was composed by his disciples about him. In the songs, the prophet calls on Israel to fulfill its raison d’etre as the servant of Yahweh, and himself embodies the servant ideal, serving Yahweh as Israel, while at the same time embodying the role of the prophetic voice from all times past. The prophet is both the voice of Yahweh and the obedient servant who stands in place of the servant Israel. Because of his obedience, his victory is assured, and in his victory lies the victory of all Israel. S1.2.2.3 Writings: An Ongoing Process As the written word gained momentum, other oral traditions were collected and new works composed. These came in the forms of poetry, proverbs, exhortation and philosophical essays, stories (novellas), visions or dreams, memoirs, and a form of history. Some of the literature was preserved in the final collection of Hebrew Scripture. The poetry is found primarily in the Psalms, or Tehillim (Songs of Praise), the book of Lamentations, and the Song of Songs. Collections of proverbs were assigned to ancient wise men, such as Solomon, king of Israel, or Lemuel, king of Massa. The book of Ecclesiastes (Qohelet) and Job are examples of philosophical treatises. Stories or novellas include Jonah, Ruth, Esther, and Dan 1–6. Visions and dreams are found in Zech 9–14 and Dan 7–12. The memoirs of Nehemiah are included in the history of Ezra-Nehemiah, which is closely tied to the great history of 1 and 2 Chronicles. The canonical status of this literature, however, is a confinement that must be set aside in order to appreciate the historical development of Jewish thought. It is the thought, rather than the collection of texts, that determines the advance of the Jews and the nature of Judaism out of which springs Christianity. The extant texts are merely a sampling of the currents of thought, and the canonical texts reduce the sample further, even if they define what most Jews considered to be the classics, or the authoritative texts.

S1.3 Currents of Jewish Thought There is a general understanding of Jewish thought during this Persian and early Hellenistic era that it may be divided into four genres; prophetic, priestly, apocalyptic, and wisdom. The prophetic current was very important at the beginning of the era, but as Torah emerged in the form of the Books of Moses, the age of the prophet came to a close, and sages and visionaries picked up their task. Sages interpreted the Torah as spokesmen of God’s word, while visionaries sought, and found, a direct link to the divine realms through the mediation of angels. Toward


the end of the era, then, we are left with three genres; priestly, apocalyptic, and wisdom writings, that describe the currents of Jewish thought.186

S1.3.1 Zadokite Priesthood The Zadokites were the leading priestly clan that went into exile and returned. Jehozadak, the last chief priest of the first temple, was followed by his grandson Jeshua, the first high priest of the second temple. Leadership of the Judaeans was divided between a Davidic scion, Zerubbabel, and the Zadokite priest, Jeshua. The disappearance of Zerubbabel broke the fragile dyarchy and brought an end to the royal line of David. The high priestly line of Zadok, the reputed first chief priest of the first temple alongside King Solomon, remained as the cultic leader of the Judaeans and ruled Jerusalem through the temple cult, while governors appointed by Persia answered to the Persian monarchs on matters of state. Although the recognized authority of the high priest came slowly, the political ideology of Judaea was becoming a temple state within the Persian Empire. The interventions of Ezra and Nehemiah did much to advance this development. The exchange of letters between Judaea and the Jews of Elephantiné reveal some progress in Zadokite control from Jerusalem over Jewish communities in the Diaspora. By the time of Alexander the Great and thereafter, the high priest has become the recognized prince-priest of the Judaeans, and the recognized cultic leader of all Jews everywhere. The Zadokites themselves were engaged in fashioning their power through written records. Foremost and earliest was their redaction of the Torah collection: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers.

S1.3.2 Apocalyptic (Enochian Tradition) The dawn of the apocalyptic current of Judaism, like many a dawn, is faint. The gradual withdrawal of the prophets provided an invitation for God to speak in other ways. There was, however, a common thread between prophetic and apocalyptic visions—a disclosure of the future. The prophecies of a new heaven and a new earth provided a link between God’s past and future.187 The elevation of God to a position of Most High and the emergence of intermediary divine beings, angels, also facilitated apocalyptic visions. The difficult times—the problem of the omnipotence of God, and the continued existence of evil—demanded new solutions. The earliest extant apocalyptic tradition in Judaism is preserved in a collection of works under the title 1 Enoch.188 The dates of these compositions extend perhaps three centuries, from late fourth or early third century b.c.e. to the first century c.e. The original inspiration (apart from God) for the Enochic traditions appears to come from two passages in Genesis. When Enoch had lived sixtyfive years, he became the father of Methuselah. Enoch walked with God [or the angels] after the birth of Methuselah three hundred years, and had other sons and daughters. Thus all the days of Enoch were three hundred and sixtyfive years. Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him.189


The proximity of Enoch to another enigmatic passage, the sons of God who had intercourse with the daughters of men, seems to have engendered a fertile relationship between the passages. When men began to multiply on the face of the ground, and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were fair; and they took to wife such of them as they chose. Then the Lord said, “My spirit shall not abide in man for ever, for he is flesh, but his days shall be a hundred and twenty years.” The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of men, and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men that were of old, the men of renown.190

The figure of Enoch mirrors, or imitates in some sense, an ancient Mesopotamia myth of the antediluvian Enmeduranki, the seventh king after kingship descended from heaven, who reigned 21,000 years, and became the founder of Babylonian divination. Likewise, this king and his wise adviser, Utuabzu, known as the seventh sage, did not die but ascended to heaven.191 Beyond the common background that may explain Enoch’s place in the biblical genealogy there is no obvious Mesopotamian influence. Enoch of the apocalyptic tradition, however, walked with the angels and was taken up to heaven to be shown the true state of human existence, past and future, knowledge he may deliver to the righteous elect who will be alive at the final tribulation.192 The myth of the sons of God who copulate with the daughters of men and the giants they produced reflects a variety of ancient mythologies and is apparently a fragmentary relic of a fuller tradition that has been inserted into Genesis only to provide God with a reason to regret his creation and decide to wipe it out with the flood.193 In the Enochic tradition, the myth of the angelic intrusion into human affairs serves to explain the true origin of evil. The Book of the Watchers (En 1–36) is probably the second oldest portion of the Enochic collection. After an introduction (1–5) drawn from numerous biblical passages that establishes its prophetic credentials, the book retells the myth of the Nephilim as the rebellion of the Watchers (6–11). The angels called “holy watchers” are the biblical “sons of God.” The story is retold on an eschatological level. The rebellion of the angels occurs in heaven, and the illegitimate offspring of giants are the cause of the chaotic violence that has ravaged the earth. The archangels of God, including Michael and Gabriel, see the devastation on earth, and on behalf of humanity they utter a plea to God for help. God responds favorably and sends an archangel to help Noah, and sends another, Michael, to bind the rebellious watchers until the day of judgment. The earth is then cleansed of all unrighteousness, oppression, and defilement and is restored. Humanity dwells in the fertile earth in which crops and vineyards produce in abundance. The Gentiles also come to worship so that the sovereignty of God over all the earth is finally realized. The biblical story of the fallen sons of God and the resulting flood becomes the eschatological restoration of all things and establishes the paradigm for future apocalyptic scenarios. Although the myth has more ancient origins, the retelling of


it in 1 Enoch suggests an allusion to the generation of the successors of Alexander, the Diadochi, and their interminable wars (323–301).194 A second vision resembles Hesiod’s myth of Prometheus, and even Aeschylus’ Prometheus Bound. Here the angel Azazel reveals the art of metallurgy to humans that enable them to fashion instruments of war and the use of cosmetics and jewelry, which led to lust, adultery, and war. Other angels taught incantations, the art of cutting roots (magical herbs), the science of astrology, and all forms of oppression. And the cries of the people reached to heaven. God instructed Raphael to bind Azazel hand and foot and cast him into the darkness to await the day of judgment. Raphael dug a hole in the desert, cast Azazel in, and covered him with rocks. In the remainder of the Book of the Watchers, we are then told of Enoch’s original summons to heaven, where he is commissioned to prophesy to the angels. The abode of God is described as made of fire and ice, a temple built of hailstones or ice crystals and surrounded by fire (14). When Enoch entered the cavernous temple, it was hot as fire and cold as ice, and fear enveloped him. The description of the throne room of God follows the vision of Ezek 1–2, a throne of crystal with wheels like the sun on which sat the great glory, and beneath the throne a river of fire. God is surrounded by cherubim and angels who do not look upon him, and Enoch also keeps his gaze lowered. During Enoch’s commissioning, the sin of the watchers is referred to, but now in a manner that seems to reflect the abuses of the priests in Jerusalem. Thereafter, Enoch tours the earth and the netherworld. He first journeys to the western edge of the earth’s disk where he sees the punishment awaiting the rebellious watchers. He is introduced to the seven archangels who will accompany him on the rest of his journey. Enoch then journeys to the eastern edge of the earth’s disk. He sees the spirits of the dead kept in ordered arrangement of their nature, the righteous or sinners, awaiting the final judgment. Here, the wicked already suffer, but the righteous look forward to life. During the rest of the journey, he again visits the mountain throne of God and sees the new earth, and the new Jerusalem, and touches the ends of the earth north, west, and south, finally east where he reaches the gates of paradise. The theology of Enochic apocalypticism expresses a strongly dualistic worldview between good and evil, both on earth and in heaven, and between this age and the next age. The present evil condition of the earth conflicts with the Zadokite theology of the goodness of divine creation expressed in the first chapter of Genesis. According to the Zadokite worldview, God created the world and confirmed it was good. Although the sons of God once corrupted it, the flood renewed God’s good earth, and further renewal is unnecessary. God rules his created order, and the priests of his temple mediate his rule through the sacrificial system. Evil is the consequence of individual or group actions, which merits, and often receives, punishment in this life. Zadokites know nothing of another world, or age, or justice beyond what we have here and now. The Enochic view of evil is that it originated in heaven, it has overturned the divine order of creation, and can be obliterated only by heavenly intervention, an intervention that will occur. (The Enochians also believed that the Zadokite calendar, which did not count the equinoxes and solstices


as days, was wrong. The year is 364 days in length, not 360 days plus four dividers.) We cannot tell at this point to what extent the Enochic traditions represented an organized group of scholars or people, but those who adhered to those traditions appear to be priests who opposed the ruling Zadokites. In other words, at this stage, the worldviews appear to have been a theological dispute between priests, though other Jews may well have sided with the one or the other, depending on their bent of mind, or perhaps on some social advantage.

S1.3.3 Jewish Wisdom Tradition Among the earliest Greek descriptions of the Jews, Theophrastus (ca. 372–288) describes them as a peculiar segment of the Syrians, “philosophers by race” because they “converse with each other about the deity, and at night-time they make observations of the stars, gazing at them and calling on God by prayer.” Theophrastus found the daily holocaust offering worthy of remark, since the sacrifice is not eaten but, in the manner of antiquity, burned whole at night so that “the all-seeing sun should not look on the terrible thing.” This manner of sacrifice was abhorrent to the Greeks, who saw it as killing for the sake of killing, rather than for food. Theophrastus also describes the famous balsam groves in the valley of Syria (i.e., in the vicinity of Jericho and the Dead Sea), the sap of which sells for twice its weight in silver.195 Another early Greek writer, Megasthenes, a contemporary of Seleucus Nicator, visited India between 302 and 288, where he resided for a time in the court of Chandragupta. He speaks of the Jews as philosophers, whom he compares with the Brahmans of India.196 A third Greek impression of Jews is attributed to Clearchus of Soli (ca. 300 b.c.e.), who was a student of Aristotle. Clearchus claims it is none other than Aristotle who says the Jews are descendants of Indian philosophers, who in India are called Calani, but in Syria go by the name of Jews. Aristotle is supposed to have met a Jew in Asia and said that he “not only spoke Greek, but had the soul of a Greek.”197 This is most likely one of those early philosopher tales of which the Greeks were fond, but there is nothing implausible about an early Hellenistic Jew, enamored of philosophy, whether it comes from the Far East or classical Greece. The reputation of philosophers bequeathed on the Jews by early Greeks surely encouraged Jews to engage Greeks in exchange of wisdom and all knowledge. A few Jewish intellectuals had likely encountered Greek philosophy since the time of Socrates, simply because trade and curiosity require that a few minds will penetrate the cultural frontiers. We know some Greeks roamed the earth in search of wisdom, and we should imagine some Jews did as well. When Judaea came under the hegemony of Alexander and his successors, the Greek language and culture became compulsory for advancing in the Hellenistic milieu. Any member of the elite class in Jerusalem who wished to rise in the new world will have learned Greek. All those who struck out to find their fortune beyond Judaea will have made Greek their primary language, and for their children it would be the mother tongue, and for their grandchildren, likely the only language they knew. The allure of Greek


culture was its own dynamic stimulus. Even though the third century yields few extant works to demonstrate this, the seeds of Hellenistic Judaism were being planted, from Antioch to Alexandria. The wisdom tradition of Israel emerged from the wisdom of the ancient Near East, including Egypt. By the very nature of wisdom, the Jewish tradition is broad and universal because wisdom is not the handmaid of any people but available to all. The Assyrian book of Ahiqar, a tale of the triumph of virtue and wisdom over treachery, was preserved by the Jews despite its polytheism. The sayings of the wise in the book of Proverbs, largely attributed to Solomon, also pointedly include those of Agur, son of Jakeh the Massaite, and Lemuel, king of Massa, and probably a descendant of Ishmael, hence from Arabia. The hero of the book of Job, an Edomite from the land of Uz, lived before or during the time of Abraham, and his friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, come from Teman, Shuah, and Naaman. Wisdom is the accumulated experience of a people that tells us how best to live life, and the fundamental rule of the wisdom of that time was, whatsoever you sow, you shall reap. Ancient wisdom saw evil as a simple cause-and-effect event. It is the way of the world. Folly suffers, wisdom prospers. “He who is steadfast in righteousness will live, but he who pursues evil will die.”198 According to the sages of Israel, wisdom came from the Creator of the universe. Wisdom personified calls out: “The Lord created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of old. Ages ago I was set up, at the first, before the beginning of the earth.”199 Therefore, “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”200 The wisdom tradition of Israel sees the world as essentially good, and the pursuit of knowledge is the exploration of the works of the Creator. Many sages and Greek philosophers studied nature and medicinal herbs as the natural course of wisdom, that is, discovering the ways of God. Because wisdom is universal, its worldview stands apart from the covenant laws revealed at Sinai. The Mosaic blessings and curses had no obvious relevance to the ways of wisdom or of the world. Nor is there a cosmic evil that has undermined Wisdom’s work of creation. The story of Job is intentionally set in a time before Moses, or even the promises to Abraham, were known. The inclusion of Satan helps date it to the postexilic times, but it is still early because Satan is among the “sons of God.” In this universalistic setting, when evil befalls the righteous man, we follow the human exploration of innocent suffering and the inherent human demand for justice apart from the Mosaic covenant. In opposition to the traditional formula that evil comes because of sin, that we reap what we sow, and that repentance is the appropriate response to evil, a theme repeated over and over by his friends, Job refuses to repent for sins he did not commit. Although the text as we have it is fraught with difficulties, obscure words, and evidence of more than one author, the treatise sets forth the limits of wisdom. Every conceivable answer to human suffering is explored, yet none is provided as final. Between the final composition of the book of Job and the other great philosophical treatise, Ecclesiastes, the Greek philosophical positions that arose after Socrates permeated the thoughts of Mediterranean humanity. But during the early Hellenistic era, the flow of philosophical influence among the Jews is difficult to


trace. That the Greeks were keen to acknowledge philosophical exchanges with magi and Indian philosophers, and some included the Jews among the guild, tells us the exchange of wisdom could come from Hebrew to Greek just as easily as Greek to Hebrew. It is sufficient to say that certain modes of thought came of age during the century following the Macedonian conquest. Philosophy was in the air, and the author of the biblical book Ecclesiastes had the makings of a Greek philosopher. While Zeno taught in the Painted Porch and Epicurus taught in The Garden, the Jewish savant we know as Qohelet (the Preacher) is said to have taught in Jerusalem, studying and arranging many proverbs.201 The book of his teaching that survives was probably compiled and edited by his pupils, who likened him to the famous philosopher-king of Jerusalem, Solomon; and the master himself probably encouraged the likeness, for they believed Solomon had collected thousands of proverbs, and his great wealth opened the door to all pleasures. In keeping with philosophical schools throughout the ancient world, his students likely came from the wealthy families of Judaea, who could afford the leisure of education. Qohelet levels his critique at all ancient wisdom, and the philosophers of his own day, to the extent he knew them. His verdict: “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity” (1:2; 12:8). The earth and the cosmos are consistent and weary; the sun rises and sets, the rivers run to the sea; but this monotonous predictability will not open a window to the future. Humans are subject to the laws of time, and there is a time for everything under heaven. Life is not fair, society is not just, wisdom seems to have little advantage over folly, and certainly cannot reach its goal of the good life. Again I saw that under the sun the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to the intelligent, nor favor to the skillful; but time and chance happen to them all. (9:11)

God is a distant and omnipotent ruler, one who is to be respected but not argued with. Who can make straight what God has made crooked (7:13)? The sage does not refer to Job but seems to be aware of the story, as we should expect. “Whatever has come to be has already been named, and it is known what man is, and that he is not able to dispute with one stronger than he. The more words, the more vanity, and what is man the better?” (6:10–11). God tests humans to demonstrate they are merely animals (3:18). As with all the philosophers, Qohelet warned that vows should be kept for God does not take oaths lightly nor suffer fools well (5:4–6). For Qohelet, death is the end of existence, a universal verdict that renders meaningless the desires and struggles of life. He wonders if humankind is different from the animals: “Who knows whether the human spirit goes upward and the spirit of animals goes downward to the earth?” (3:21). Who can say? From his observation, death is arbitrary, paying no respect to virtue over folly. The ancient promise to reward virtue by a long and prosperous life is too often disproved. Despite the meaninglessness of life, he advises his pupils to seek its pleasures—good food, expensive clothes, wine, and women—while they have strength to enjoy them. “Bread is made for laughter, and wine gladdens life, and money answers everything” (10:19). Qohelet ends his ruminations with an ambiguous dictum: “the dust returns


to the earth as it was, and the ruach [breath or spirit] returns to God who gave it” (12:7). He probably speaks of dissolution of the breath, not immortality, but it may also express such a hope. The most interesting, and to some the most troubling, aspect of Ecclesiastes is that it should have been preserved in the Hebrew canon. One explanation is that Ecclesiastes describes a debate between two schools in Jerusalem, one tied to traditional Jewish wisdom, the other enamored of Greek philosophy. But if so, Greek philosophy wins hands down. An attractive solution has recently been proposed that the treatise of Qohelet represented the learned conclusion of the Jewish Wisdom movement, which one of its opponents from the traditional “hear and obey God” school published with the epilogue attached as a warning to young minds eager to engage themselves in the wisdom of the day (12:9–14). From this perspective, a weathered old professor of Torah is telling freshmen that a university degree is a waste of life. Just follow what your parents told you, and you’ll do fine. The advantage of this interpretation is that it best explains how the book of Ecclesiastes, which is so contrary to the mainstream view of Torah, was nevertheless widely preserved and finally included in the canon. Human wisdom, because it is a human endeavor, is doomed to its own paltry limits.202

S1.4 Diaspora Jews Yahweh was now the Most High God in the minds of virtually all Jews, and the only divine being worthy of the name God. Worship of God was regulated by daily sacrifices and the pilgrim feasts of Pesach (Passover), Shavuot (Weeks), and Sukkot (Tabernacles). The laws of God were codified in the Torah. Time was sanctified by the sabbath, and the seasons regulated by the sun and the moon. Responsibility for obeying the laws had passed from the whole people to the individual. In those days they shall no longer say: “The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.” But all shall die for their own sins; the teeth of everyone who eats sour grapes shall be set on edge. (Jer 31:29–30)

Kingship remained in Gentile hands, from the Babylonians, to the Persians, to the Macedonians known as the Ptolemies. Under Babylonia and Persia, governors represented the king of kings, while the high priest and his council of aristocrats ruled over the affairs of God from Jerusalem. Under the Ptolemies, the high priest and his council answered directly to the king. The office of prophet was occupied by a number of notable voices: Nahum, Zephaniah, and Habakkuk before the exile, Jeremiah and Ezekiel during the exile, Haggai and Zechariah, the “sons of Isaiah,” the traditions of Joel, and finally Malachi. But in the fourth century, that office had been filled by the sage, the scribe, and the visionary. All this could only be described as providential. The people of God were scattered across the earth, from Assyria and Mesopotamia in the east, to Anatolia in the north and Egypt in the south, and westward across North Africa. The land was holy. Jerusalem was the holy mountain.203

94 Vines Intertwined For on my holy mountain, the mountain height of Israel, says the Lord God, there all the house of Israel, all of them, shall serve me in the land; there I will accept them, and there I will require your contributions and the choicest of your gifts, with all your sacred things. (Ezek 20:40)

The vast stretch of land that Ezekiel called for to be holy, dedicated to the priests, was never implemented, but the idea of holiness was applied to Jerusalem and gradually spread outward into Judaea.204 During this era, the majority of exiles remained in Babylonia, while Jews migrated hither and yon in search of opportunities not to be found in Palestine. The wanderers took with them a primitive monotheism, a henotheism practiced as monolatry, eyes pointed toward the one temple for the one God. And over the generations, layers of custom defined their ethnic heritage. Insofar as certain Gentiles found the Jewish way of life attractive, some will join them. Looking back, Jews will speak of their ancestors colonizing the earth for their God, and the bold claim was not without merit.205 Two features of Diaspora Judaism began the universalization of Jewish faith: the synagogue and the Septuagint.

S1.4.1 Synagogue The origin of the synagogue, like many origins, remains obscure and debated. It began as a word for the community who “gathered together” but later meant also the building where they gathered. The more original word for the building was proseuche (“house of prayer”; by the second century c.e., synagogue universally meant the building where Jews gathered). Four origins have been proposed. It may have begun during the reforms of Josiah, as men gathered in a specific place in Jerusalem for nonsacrificial worship. A second suggestion is that it began in exile, as people gathered to hear the words of the prophet Ezekiel.206 A third view is that it began under the reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah, as part of the regular reading of Torah. Others argue it began in the third-century Egyptian Diaspora, where the first hard evidence appears, and was the official assembly (synagōgē), the Hellenistic religious association recognized under the Ptolemies. It took the place of the city gate for numerous social gatherings in larger cities.207 The earliest inscription of a synagogue building is in Egypt, during the reign of Ptolemy III Eugertes (246–221). The word first appears in 1 Maccabees as an assembly of the Hasidim, or gathering of scribes, or the great assembly that proclaimed Simon ruler and high priest in 141 b.c.e.208

S1.4.2 Septuagint The Jews in Egypt during the Ptolemaic era made a major break from their ancestors by abandoning the Hebrew language and adopting Greek, but they kept the faith of their ancestors by translating the sacred Scriptures into Greek. The process of translation was probably piecemeal at first and may have begun as an oral translation during sabbath readings, much like the Aramaic Targums, which


are often an elaborate paraphrase to draw out the fuller meaning of obscure Hebrew or to contemporize it for current needs. But at some point during the third century, the five books of Moses were systematically translated into Greek and accepted as the standard and authoritative Torah of Moses. The legend of this translation will be immortalized in the next century by the author of the Letter of Aristeas and given the seal of divine inspiration when translated by 72 sages, hence the name Septuagint (Seventy) and the Roman numeral abbreviation lxx. Later still, the Greek will be considered divine dictation, in which each translator worked independently and “under inspiration, wrote . . . the same word for word, as though dictated to each by an invisible prompter.”209 Diaspora Jews eventually considered the translation itself to be divinely inspired, of equal authority with the original Hebrew. The Septuagint replaced the tetragram YHWH with the Greek kurios (“Lord”), which tells us Jews perhaps already refrained from pronouncing the Name. The immediate significance of the translation however, is that the Greek Scriptures enabled the Diaspora Jews to explore the Divine in Greek terms and by Hellenistic hermeneutical methods. Concepts born in ancient Hebrew (Semitic) thought were transformed into contemporary Greek (Hellenistic) thought. When the process of translation of the Law, the Prophets, and many of the Writings will have been done by the first century b.c.e., a Jew well-trained in both Hebrew and Greek will note the difficulties. He had translated a book of wisdom written in Hebrew by his grandfather Jesus ben Sira and begged lenience from his readers who might be familiar with the original Hebrew. You are invited therefore to read it with goodwill and attention, and to be indulgent in cases where, despite our diligent labor in translating, we may seem to have rendered some phrases imperfectly. For what was originally expressed in Hebrew does not have exactly the same sense when translated into another language. Not only this book, but even the Law itself, the Prophecies, and the rest of the books differ not a little when read in the original.210

For example, the verse “You shall not revile God (Elohim), nor curse a ruler of your people” was rendered in Greek, “Thou shalt not revile the gods, nor speak ill of the ruler of thy people.”211 The plural form of God, Elohim, in this case, was kept in the plural gods (theous), thereby warning the Jews living among the Gentiles to not revile the gods of other peoples, just as they should not speak ill of their Gentile sovereign.212 Equally important, the Hebrew term for covenant, brit, was rendered by the Greek diathēkē, which bore the meaning of “testament” or “will” as well as the Hebrew concept of an agreement between God and his people. The new meanings opened the door to fundamental new theological views of covenant, which also entered the Latin of testamentum, including the foundation for the New Covenant as New Testament. The entire Hebrew biblical tradition translated into the Greek, and expounded upon by Diaspora Jews, will become the theological foundation for early Christianity until the nearly forgotten Hebrew will be brought back to life by the church fathers Origen and Jerome.

Part Two

(201 b.c.e.–14 c.e.)

Chapter 6

The Maccabean Revolt (201–161 b.c.e.)

6.1 Mediterranean World The history of Judaea in the second century begins with the Roman invasion of Greece, called the Second Macedonian War (200–196), and the consolidation of Seleucid control of Coele-Syria. Unlike the previous centuries, we now have several Jewish sources, of which Josephus makes good, though sometimes confusing, use.1 The pace of political intrigue and changes in leadership with its surfeit of names will cause the eyes of all but the most ardent reader to glaze over. In brief, the Seleucid dynasty will disintegrate under the pressure of Parthia in the east and Rome in the west, while the weak Ptolemaic dynasty will endure as a bread and linen basket for the Mediterranean basin. Out of the political vacuum, which human nature abhors, the Jews will assert their existence through internecine strife and will give birth to a brief independent kingdom. When Rome had sent Hannibal out of Italy, retaken Spain, and reduced Carthage to a vassal state, it resumed its conflict with Philip V, and in due course, with Antiochus III the Great, both of whom were still dividing up the Ptolemaic spoils. The war was invited by an appeal to Rome from Pergamum and Rhodes against the designs of Philip V. Other Greek city-states joined the winning side, so that after Rome defeated Philip at Cynoscephalae (“dog’s head”) in Thessaly and proclaimed the freedom of Greece at the Isthmian Games in 196, the rest of the Peloponnese soon came under the hegemony of Rome.

6.2 Seleucid Kingdom Antiochus III the Great (223–187) spent the first years consolidating his gains in Syria, including the small pockets of Jewish pro-Ptolemaic resistance in Judaea and Jerusalem. By 198 Antiochus controlled all Judaea and provided for the rebuilding of his newly won lands. Josephus preserves a document issued by the king that outlines the restoration program. Besides rebuilding the destroyed parts of Jerusalem and helping to repopulate it, Antiochus provided for the sacrifices of the temple and its repairs and other tax relief. He reduced the general tribute by a third, probably to 200 talents, and freed all Jews who had been carried off from


Jerusalem and made slaves. He ordered their property, and any children born during the period of slavery, to be restored to them.2 The transition from Ptolemaic to Seleucid rule got off to a good start, and Antiochus was remembered also by his Jewish subjects as “the Great.”3 The letter of Antiochus speaks about the Jewish senate (gerousia), perhaps better translated “council of elders,” as a governing body, and toward the end it states: All the members of the nation (ethnos) shall have a form of government in accordance with the laws of their country, and the senate, the priests, the scribes of the temple, and the temple-singers shall be relieved from the poll-tax and the crown-tax and the salt-tax which they pay.

The high priest is not specifically addressed as the leader of the Jewish people; rather, the senate, or the council of elders, has the leading role to play. The council of elders was drawn from the aristocracy of the land and likely included lay nobility as well as priests, or possibly lay nobility to the exclusion of priests. The stark absence of the high priest suggests some movement away from the hierocracy, or priestly rule, from the time of Nehemiah, although in the events to come, priests remain in the thick of things. Finally, the “laws of their country” is literally the “laws of their fathers” and refers to the Torah and the customs developed around it, so that by royal decree, as we saw under Artaxerxes with the mission of Ezra, the Torah is confirmed to be the law of the land. This was standard practice of the Hellenistic rulers, to confirm the legal system particular to any Greek city, but it confirmed the fact that the legal force of Torah depended on the will of a foreign king. What the king giveth, the king may take away.4 And the ruling party (Hellenists) have now appealed to the foreign king against their “brethren.” The legitimacy of their rule rests on Gentile authority. A second decree of Antiochus restricts the access of foreigners to the temple in Jerusalem and forbids the importation of unclean animals or their hides into the city of Jerusalem.5 This decree probably reflects the views and power of a conservative segment of the priesthood and their attempt to control access to the temple cult. Once again we see that the old conflict between the Jewish provincials and the cosmopolitans is alive and well, since such a ruling would not have been necessary if other Jews were not opposed to the restrictions. The high priest at this time was Simon II, son of Onias II. His absence in the official communication of Antiochus is all the more interesting because, after Jeshua the first high priest, this Simon is considered the greatest high priest of the Second Temple period. Simon was later awarded the epithet ha-tsakkiq (“the Just”), and his praises were already sung by his contemporary, a sage named Jesus ben Sira, in the fiftieth chapter of his book called Wisdom of Ben Sira (Ecclesiasticus, or Sirach). Responsibility for the restoration of the temple after the Fifth Syrian War fell upon Simon II. He had given his support to Antiochus III, leading what will have been the pro-Seleucid party in Jerusalem and no doubt carried many of the citizens with him. Against Simon, Hyrcanus the Tobiad rallied pro-Ptolemaic support, but the other Tobiads had sided with the Seleucids, and Hyrcanus was exiled from Jerusalem.

The Maccabean Revolt 101

In 196, Ptolemy V Epiphanes came of age and took the throne under the newly adapted Egyptian coronation trappings, one of many concessions to a rising Egyptian nationalism. The Egyptian priest of Memphis commemorated the event by a trilingual inscription in hieroglyphic, demotic Egyptian, and Greek. The priesthood used a black basalt slab to enumerate the benefactions Ptolemy had given to them, quite unaware, we may be sure, that they had provided the key to deciphering ancient hieroglyphs in the future discovery of the famous Rosetta Stone. The following year, according to Josephus, Ptolemy made his peace with Antiochus III, ceding to him all of Greater Syria and Judaea and receiving as his treaty wife the daughter of Antiochus, Cleopatra, whose dowry may have included part of the tribute of Greater Syria, Samaria, Judaea, and Phoenicia.6 But at this point, the Aetolians, who had been Roman allies during the earlier conflict with Philip V, declared war against Rome and appealed to Antiochus III for intervention against the Achaean League. Antiochus invaded Greece with a small force of 10,000, but he was driven back to Asia Minor by Rome and then soundly defeated at Magnesia. Two years later (188), at Apamea, Antiochus swallowed his remaining ambitions and accepted the harsh terms of the peace treaty with Rome. He lost all of Asia Minor along with his naval fleet and his famous elephant brigade. Rome required war reparations of 12,000 talents payable over 12 years. In order to raise the funds, Antiochus began raiding temples, and the following year, 187, the old king was killed by an outraged throng as he looted the temple of Bel in Susa. When Seleucus IV, son of Antiochus III, came to the throne, the new high priest in Jerusalem was Onias III, son of Simon II. Onias seems to have sided more with the growing pro-Ptolemaic factions in Judaea, possibly because he saw the Seleucids in decline after the battle of Magnesia, and the miserable way Antiochus had been slain. The pro-Ptolemaic Hyrcanus the Tobiad, still expelled from Jerusalem, now entrusted a large sum of money to the temple treasury for safety. The complex political struggles that soon followed seem to have engaged the Seleucids and the Jews equally. As usual, wealth and power, now clothed in Hellenistic garb, lay at the root of the conflict. The official in charge of the Jerusalem market, a man named Simon (called the Benjaminite, to avoid confusion), fell into conflict with the high priest Onias III, presumably over the exercise of his authority. Simon lost the argument and informed Apollonius, the Seleucid governor in Syria, of the temple wealth, which he said was available for the king’s use. When Seleucus IV learned of it, he sent his chief minister Heliodorus to obtain the money. In Jerusalem, Onias explained that the money, valued at 400 talents of silver and 200 of gold, was reserved as funds for widows and orphans, but there was also a private deposit by Hyrcanus the Tobiad. Heliodorus insisted that he was under orders to confiscate it. The fact that much of the wealth belonged to a pro-Ptolemaic war lord causing trouble for the king in Arabia could not have escaped his notice. According to the book of Second Maccabees, our sole source for the event, when Heliodorus approached the temple to inspect the treasury, he was struck down by angels and survived only because Onias offered a sacrifice of atonement for his impiety. Divine intervention, however, is not subject to the historian’s scrutiny,


and we are left simply with the fact that Heliodorus returned to King Seleucus empty-handed. One can imagine, however, a good deal of political intrigue to which we are not privy but subsequently plays itself out. The inability of either Simon the Benjaminite or Onias to oust the other without appeal to the Seleucid monarchy suggests a broad power struggle within the Jewish aristocracy and marks the start of a conflict that will result in the Maccabean revolt. Simon the Benjaminite called the reported angelic intervention a hoax, claiming that Onias had in fact assaulted Heliodorus, and again he appealed to Apollonius, the governor of Syria. Simon conspired with Apollonius and hired assassins to eliminate some opponents. Onias realized the danger Simon posed to his authority and traveled to Antioch for an audience with King Seleucus. Before he arrived, Heliodorus had assassinated the king, and his brother Antiochus IV Epiphanes usurped the throne, taking it from the son of Seleucus IV, also called Antiochus.7 While Onias remained with the Jewish community near Antioch awaiting a new audience, his brother Jesus, who changed his name to Jason, appeared before Antiochus IV Epiphanes and promised substantially more tribute from Judaea if he were made the high priest. But Jason had greater ambitions that would please Antiochus. He offered the king an additional 150 talents if he were given authority to build a gymnasium and enroll the people of Jerusalem as citizens of Antioch. Antiochus granted Jason all he asked, and in 175, Jason became the first high priest to gain appointment by the authority of a foreign king. It has been suggested that Jason used the deposit of Hyrcanus the Tobiad in the temple treasury to purchase his office and authority, for it was about this time, soon after Antiochus came to power, that Hyr canus committed suicide out of fear for his life at the hands of Antiochus.8 Onias III, however, had a son, Onias (IV), the true heir to high priesthood, who may have remained in Jerusalem and would in any case have retained Jewish supporters.

6.3 The Polis of Jerusalem Jason swiftly set out to make Jerusalem a bonafide Greek polis, Antioch-atJerusalem, and its citizens Antiochenes. The distinction of polis would elevate Jerusalem from its marginal status of a quaint temple state to the league of Greek cities that surrounded it: the great coastal cities of Gaza, Ascalon, and Joppa, the reputed site where mythical Perseus had rescued Andromeda; and cities to the north, Scythopolis, Philoteria near the Lake of Gennesaret (Sea of Galilee), and Panion at the source of the Jordan River, the city that guarded the grotto sanctuary of Pan. Why should Jerusalem, the Hellenist residents wished to know, be shackled to its humble past, to say nothing of the financial benefits the polis would bring to its citizens. The request in itself tells us that a considerable portion of the aristocracy, and even underlings who aspired to higher rungs on the social ladder, supported the transformation. Although the Hellenization of Jerusalem was a political move (the struggle for status and power), one could not escape the religious implications (keeping peace with God). Onias bore the reputation of being zealous for the laws of Moses, and


Jason apparently set aside the enforcement of some of the customs that hampered his ambitions, perhaps sabbath restrictions among other matters. The temple cult, however, continued. Jason then erected the gymnasium (gymnasion) near the citadel and enrolled many young men of the nobility into an ephebeion, the basic components of Hellenistic higher education. The Antiochene youths eagerly adopted the Greek broad-brimmed hat in devotion to Hermes and entered into the classic Greek educational system, including the athletic contests. Such was their ardor, we are told, that the priests among them were often delinquent in their temple duties, preferring wrestling matches and discus training. Competition was performed in the nude, glorifying the human form, and some athletes, so they might not suffer the ridicule of Jewishness when they competed in the games, employed surgeons to perform an epispasm to undo the circumcision that a provincial custom had forced on them without permission in their infancy.9 The first occasion for the new citizen-athletes to strut their stuff was the quadrennial games held at Tyre. Jason sent his Antiochene envoys to the city with a monetary offering for the sacrifice to Heracles (Hercules), who along with Hermes was a tutelary god of the gymnasium. The men delivering the offering, however, lost their nerve and asked that the monetary gift of 300 drachmas be devoted to some secular matter. City officials allocated the gift to building Tyrian navy vessels.10 Three years into the Hellenistic modernization of Jerusalem, Antiochus paid the city a visit, and this may have served as the official founding of the Jerusalem polis. The visit was something of a side event, however, because Antiochus was in Joppa to assess his southern frontier. After Ptolemy VI Philometor came of age and celebrated his coronation, he expressed renewed hostility toward the Seleucid kingdom. In the meanwhile, Jerusalem saw another change in its leadership. Jason sent a certain Menelaus, brother of Simon the Benjaminite, to Antioch with tribute money. Menelaus used the occasion to offer the king an additional 300 talents of tribute for the office of high priest, and Antiochus granted it. Menelaus represents the first break in the dynastic succession of high priests since Jeshua revived the office after the Babylonian exile. When news of the change reached Jason, he fled to the land of Ammon. The most turbulent decade of Jewish history had begun, and the first act would be the murder of Onias III, a milestone in the apocalypse of Daniel: After the sixty-two weeks, an anointed one shall be cut off and shall have nothing, and the troops of the prince who is to come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary. Its end shall come with a flood, and to the end there shall be war. Desolations are decreed. (Dan 9:26)

Soon into his tenure, Menelaus failed to deliver all the money promised, and both he and the commander of the Syrian garrison were summoned to Antioch. Before the matter could be addressed, Antiochus departed to suppress a rebellion in the north and left Andronichus as his deputy. Menelaus ingratiated himself with Andronichus by giving him some gold vessels from the temple. When Onias, who still lived in exile near Antioch, learned of this, he took the unusual step of seeking sanctuary in the temple of Apollo at Daphne, and from there he exposed


Menelaus’s sacrilege of temple property. On the advice of Menelaus, Andronichus went to Onias and after promising him upon oath safe passage, killed him as soon as he came out of the sanctuary. This act of treachery shocked the Jewish nation and their neighbors alike. Even Antiochus is reported to have wept when he learned of it from Jews in Cilicia. Then, inflamed with anger, he stripped Andronichus of his rank and had him executed on the very spot he had committed the murder.11 Menelaus and another brother, Lysimachus, continued to pilfer golden vessels from the temple, and word of this stirred up massive resistance by the common people in Judaea. An attempt to put down the resistance by Lysimachus with 3000 armed men resulted in a city-wide backlash. The armed men took flight, and a mob tore Lysimachus limb from limb. Charges were also brought against Menelaus. The Jerusalem senate sent three delegates to complain to the king, but once again, Menelaus managed to bribe a court official and escape judgment. Instead, the three senate delegates were executed.12 About this time, in the spring of 169, Antiochus invaded Egypt in what is called the Sixth Syrian War.13 At this point our sources, 1 and 2 Maccabees and Josephus, as well as the Roman historians, offer partial, conflicting, or garbled accounts of events (the only eyewitness is the apocalyptic Dan 11), and they diverge to such an extent that all attempts to reconstruct events—and there have been many—are admittedly tentative, but the end result in 167 is solid enough. During the 2-year war (169–168), Antiochus IV twice invaded Egypt. In the summer of 169, he took the Nile delta, pillaged temples, and became the “Protector” of his nephew Ptolemy VI Philometor. But the Alexandrians rebelled against this Seleucid interference and made Ptolemy VIII Physcon the king. Antiochus withdrew and let the two Ptolemies fight it out. On his return Antiochus may have entered Jerusalem, and with the help of Menelaus, removed some monies and treasures from the temple.14 This action did not cause an uprising but would have caused animosity among most Jews. The following year, 168, Antiochus again conquered Egypt, but this time the senate of Rome ordered him to withdraw. The clash between Roman interests and the ambitions of Antiochus IV reached the turning point in the famous Day of Eleusis. In July, Popillius Laenas, the head of the Roman embassy, met up with Antiochus in the suburb of Eleusis outside of Alexandria. He handed the message to Antiochus and silently awaited the response. Antiochus asked for time, to which the Roman drew a circle in the sand around the king and demanded an answer before he stepped out. Antiochus swallowed his pride and agreed to leave Egypt. This humiliating event may provide a key to the subsequent madness Antiochus showed in his response to the quarreling Jews. Antiochus was already known to be eccentric. According to Polybius, Antiochus often went in disguise to mingle with the common people, as if applying for a political office and seeking votes, giving extravagant gifts to strangers, and so on. The wits of Antioch called him Epimanes (“manic” or “maniac”) as a pun on the Epiphanes (“manifest”) from his coinage epithet Theos Epiphanes (“God manifest”).15 While Antiochus had campaigned in Egypt, Jason heard a rumor that the king had died and quickly raised a small force of a thousand men to attack Jerusalem.


The attack only caused more bloodshed in the city, and when Jason learned that Antiochus was alive and advancing on Jerusalem, he fled back to Ammon. News of the conflict in Jerusalem was taken to be a general revolt, and Antiochus, fresh from his humiliation, marched on Jerusalem in a beastly rage. He stormed the city and ordered his soldiers to slaughter and plunder at will.16 The king, guided by Menelaus, entered the temple and stripped it of all its gold, from the overlay on decorations to the golden vessels, candelabra, and altar of incense, altogether valued at 1800 talents. He then returned to Antioch, leaving Menelaus and two overseers in charge of the devastated city. During the next year there must have been continued unrest in Jerusalem, and it is possible that Onias IV took over the main opposition to Menelaus, with support from Ptolemy. All Jews who were against Antiochus and his manipulation of the high priests would have been pro-Ptolemy and now became pro-Roman. In 167, Antiochus sent another commander, Apollonius, with an army of 22,000 to quell the unrest. Apollonius took a page from the military tactics of Ptolemy I and gained entrance to Jerusalem on the sabbath. He put to death more thousands, and the rest fled into the wilderness. The daily (Tamid) offering ceased. Apollonius had the city walls torn down but strengthened the ancient City of David into a fortification called the Akra and stationed there a garrison of foreign mercenaries, people of an alien god (Dan 11:39). Jerusalem had been reduced to a military cleruchy, a special colony status in which the residents kept their original citizenship and did not form a polis independent from the surrounding countryside.17 The next step by Antiochus is not easily explained and may have required the rationale of a royal Epimanes mind, but it appears to have been an effort to unify his frontier against Egypt and Rome under a consistent ruler cult, in keeping with the new title displayed on his coins in the hundred and forty-third year of the Seleucid calendar (169/168): “God Manifest Victory Bearer.” Then the king wrote to his whole kingdom that all should be one people, and that all should give up their particular customs. All the Gentiles accepted the command of the king. Many even from Israel gladly adopted his religion; they sacrificed to idols and profaned the sabbath. And the king sent letters by messengers to Jerusalem and the towns of Judah; he directed them to follow customs strange to the land, to forbid burnt offerings and sacrifices and drink offerings in the sanctuary, to profane sabbaths and festivals, to defile the sanctuary and the priests, to build altars and sacred precincts and shrines for idols, to sacrifice swine and other unclean animals, and to leave their sons uncircumcised. They were to make themselves abominable by everything unclean and profane, so that they would forget the law and change all the ordinances. He added, “And whoever does not obey the command of the king shall die.”18

This decree, such as it may have been, is here worded in the memories of the martyrs. There is no evidence that the Jews of Babylon or Asia Minor, or even in Antioch itself, were under any pressure to abandon their Judaism. That some Jews throughout the Seleucid Empire easily rejected their customs is believable, for we have internal Diaspora evidence that many Jews desired to do so. To be cosmopolitan was the goal of the truly emancipated Hellenistic Jew. Given some benefit of the


doubt to the mostly silent voice of the Hellenistic Jews, they might have justified the new religious orientation by citing the words of their coreligionist in Alexandria, Aristeas: “God, the overseer and creator of all things, is He whom all men worship,” and while Jews use one name, “others address Him differently, as Zeus and Jove.” Or they might have long appreciated the poem by Aratus of Soli, Phaemonenon, as did their fellow Jew Aristobulus of Alexandria, who quoted approvingly the poem, only substituting the generic “God” for “Zeus”: Never O men, let us leave him unmentioned, all ways are full of Zeus and all meeting-places of men; the sea and the harbors are full of him. In every direction we all have to do with Zeus; for we are also his offspring.19

Behind the practical desire of Antiochus for empire-wide unity, there was a genuine, if naive, desire on the part of many Jews for a unifying religion that would permit them to enter into the Hellenistic culture as equals. If they joined in the new cultic festivities, that too would be explained as a convention of their culture, not a conversion to polytheism. Benefit of the doubt aside, there will have been other Jews, like those who removed the marks of circumcision, who wished to obliterate the heritage of Jewishness that appeared to their Hellenistic neighbors as peculiar at best and barbarous at worst. They will have admired Joseph the Tobiad, who dined with kings and proved himself a sinner no better than any other aristocrat. And the author of 1 Maccabees will be justified in calling them lawless and godless. It appears to have been these Jews who pressed their case in the decision of Antiochus to ban all the embarrassing and exclusively Jewish rituals for citizens of the Jerusalem polis, as well as the books from which the laws derived. This was an attack on Jewish separatism, aimed at Jerusalem and its environs, in which, if we can believe the testimony of our sources, there was a good deal of bitter disdain in the minds of Hellenistic Jews who supported Antiochus. What began as a century-long culture war with religious undertones was now embroiled in imperial politics and no small amount of vengeance. But after the decree and vicious policy of Antiochus, it became a civil war, and then a war for liberation. The man behind the attack on Judaism was Menelaus.20 It has been suggested that when he took over the priesthood, he had already transformed the temple ritual into a more generic Phoenician cult that facilitated the Syrian garrison and other Gentiles dwelling in the area. This would explain his willingness to dispense with the temple vessels, and it would help explain the pointed banishment of the essential ordinances of Judaism. Whether or not he had gone that far, he implemented the decree of Antiochus with alacrity. Torah scrolls were burned. Overseers spread out across Judaea looking for circumcised infants. When they were found, the mother was paraded through the city with the baby hung around her neck, and finally they were hurled to death from the walls. Other Jews found celebrating the sabbath in caves were killed, an easy task against those who would not raise a hand in their own defense. Every


village in Judaea was required to make a sacrifice to foreign gods, or perhaps to the king, and burn incense at the doors of the homes. On the festival of Dionysus, the men and women of Jerusalem, willingly or not, walked through the streets in bacchanalian procession, heads crowned with ivy. In December of 167, a Hellenic altar was built atop the great stone altar of the temple, and ten days later on Kislev 25, the first sacrifice was made, probably of a swine. Menelaus remained the high priest of the temple, and the new cult was transformed into a universal one for Zeus Olympus. Greek festivals replaced Jewish holy days, and an Athenian senator arrived to take charge of the Greek festivities. The Syrian soldiers of the garrison, and other Gentiles in the area, and very likely the most ardent Hellenistic Jews, reveled in the new cult. After the initial shock of the campaign against Judaism, the traditionalists developed a passive resistance, and many fled to the wilderness or into the surrounding territories. It was a time of self-definition for Jews, of action and reaction, persecution and martyrdom. One anonymous Jew produced, under the nom de plume Daniel, a collection of stories from the olden days to remind the traditionalists of the courage and fidelity of their ancestors in Babylon and a series of visions that foresaw the victory of God. Like an elixir of confidence it must have spread among the faithful thousands.

6.4 Maccabean Revolt One day in the village of Modein, 20 miles northwest of Jerusalem, a royal official assembled the villagers and ordered the customary Hellenic sacrifice. Among the villagers was an old priest named Mattathias. He had fled Jerusalem with his five sons, John, Simon, Judas, Eleazar, and Jonathan. The royal officer asked Mattathias, as a priest, to make the sacrifice. Tradition tells us the old priest replied, “Even if all the nations that live under the rule of the king obey him and have chosen to obey his commandments, every one of them abandoning the religion of their ancestors, I and my sons and my brothers will continue to live by the covenant of our ancestors.” When another villager stepped forward to perform the sacrifice, Mattathias “burned with zeal.” He rushed forward and killed his fellow Jew upon the altar, slew the stunned officer, and demolished the altar. He cried out, “Let everyone who is zealous for the law and supports the covenant come out with me!” (1 Macc 2:19–20). Mattathias and his sons fled to the hills. News of the resistance spread, and many who wished to remain faithful to their laws also fled to the wilderness. The Syrian garrison hunted them down and isolated one group in a cave. The soldiers waited until the sabbath and gave the refugees an ultimatum to come out and obey the king or die. They chose death. The soldiers entered and massacred them all, men, women, and children, numbered at a thousand. When Mattathias learned of this, he decreed that all Jews should hereafter defend themselves on the sabbath. And thereafter they did. Mattathias then found himself surrounded by many faithful called Hasideans, derived from the Hebrew hasid, or saint; each prepared to die for the law.


Mattathias organized the men into an army. The revolt had begun. They engaged in systematic raids to cleanse the land, killing the apostate Jews, tearing down Hellenic altars, and circumcising all the uncircumcised boys they found. The Hellenistic Jews, and even the less ideological peasants who simply wished to survive, now fled to their Gentile neighbors. The intense regime of the resistance soon wore out old Mattathias. When it came time to die, he rallied his forces with a stirring speech, “Remember the deeds of the fathers, which they did in their generations.” Among the heroes he named was Phineas, grandson of Aaron, who slew an apostate Israelite in the sight of Moses and all the camp of Israel, and for his zeal, won the covenant of everlasting priesthood. Phineas now became the archetype father of the zealot Jew, and Mattathias the founder of the zealot cause—the right to abide by the faith of their ancestors. Before he died, Mattathias made his son Judas, surnamed Maccabeus, the leader. The name Maccabeus may have been a childhood nickname for a physical distinction, like a hammer-shaped head, but in the popular etymology it came to mean his military prowess, the “Hammerer” or the “Hammer of God.”21 Judas Maccabeus proved himself an able tactician, and bolstered by the religious purity of the Hasideans, he led the rebels in a succession of victories against the astonished and ill-prepared Seleucid forces. Apollonius, who had brought the great devastation on Jerusalem, gathered a large force of Gentiles and Samaritans into Judaea. They were quickly defeated, and Apollonius was killed. Judas took the sword of Apollonius and used it as his own. A second, more powerful Seleucid force led by Seron, the commander of the Syrian army, approached Jerusalem from Beth-Horon, 12 miles to the northwest. Judas rallied his men and fell upon the advancing force. Again the zeal of men willing to die for their cause proved too much for the mercenaries. Judas and his men crushed the enemy and pursued them to the sea-coast, killing about 800. At this point Antiochus Epiphanes realized he had a full-scale rebellion in Judaea, but his coffers were dangerously low. While he campaigned against the Parthians, he left half his forces with general Lycias, vice-regent over his son Antiochus V, with orders to destroy Judaea. Lysias dispatched an army of 47,000 under three generals, Ptolemy, Nicanor, and Gorgias. When the army encamped in the plain of Emmaus, traders hurried in from the coast with silver coin and iron chains to purchase the slaves that would soon be auctioned off. Judas, however, organized his men and appointed commanders over thousands, hundreds, and tens. They prepared themselves by prayer and fasting. On the eve of the battle, while Gorgias took a force of 6000 for a surprise night attack on the camp of the Jews, Judas, who had better intelligence, took his 3000-strong army and destroyed the main camp of the Syrians. Meanwhile, Gorgias, thinking the Jews had fled, returned to find his own camp in flames and the remaining soldiers dead or dispersed. His army lost courage and fled into the southern plains. While slave merchants returned home disappointed, Judas and his men gathered up a great booty, gold, silver, and purple cloth. Judas soon had a force of some 10,000. Lysias then took matters into his own hands and marched his army of 60,000 down the coast around Judaea and then advanced on Jerusalem from the south


along the road from Hebron. He besieged the fortress of Beth-zur, 5 miles south of Jerusalem. Judas Maccabeus and his men met Lysias near Beth-zur and once more defeated a vastly larger force. Lysias had to retreat back north to Antioch with losses of 12,000. The war was not going well for the Seluecid king, and Lysias decided to propose peace terms. He told Judas Maccabeus of his intentions and asked for a statement of loyalty to the crown. Meanwhile, he sent Menelaus, as the still-legitimate representative of the Jews, to Antiochus in Babylon with his peace proposal. The king replied by a letter to the council, early in 164. He offered amnesty to all the rebels who wished to return to their homes, and they were free to worship according to their own laws as had been guaranteed by Antiochus III. The letter made no mention of the Akra fortress or the high priest, so it appears Menelaus remained in office, and the king had surrendered no authority. But Judas and his men had won the cause for which they fought, freedom to follow their own way of life. It was a good beginning, but only a beginning. As they saw it, God was on their side. The goal was no longer religious freedom but a kingdom under God.22 Judas marched his army into Jerusalem in the fall of 164 and took charge of the temple, rendering the high priesthood of Menelaus irrelevant. They found the sanctuary desolate, the gates burned and the altar defiled. Weeds and bushes grew from the cracks of in the stone courtyard, and the priestly chambers were in ruins. In their grief, they tore their cloaks, sprinkled ashes on their heads, wailed, and blew trumpets. Judas posted guards around the Akra to prevent the Syrian garrison from aiding the Hellenist Jews who still opposed them, and they set about to restore and purify the sanctuary. After removing the Hellenic altar, uncertain what to do with the profaned altar of burnt offering on which it had sat, they decided to tear it down and store the stones in a safe place until a prophet should arise to declare what to do with them. Then, using stones untouched by iron as the law required, they built a new altar. New vessels were made, a new altar of incense, and a new menorah, the seven-branch candelabra. Early in the morning on Kislev 25 (December 164), they offered sacrifice on the new altar and rededicated the temple. For eight days they celebrated the dedication, in a manner similar to the Feast of Tabernacles. Judas ordered that the celebration become an annual event, the Feast of Dedication, known today as Hanukkah. By the first century c.e. the celebration involved the lighting of many lights in homes, and according to Josephus, was known popularly as the Festival of Lights, but in the Gospel of John it is called the Feast of Dedication.23 The legend of the lamp oil—that they had only enough oil to burn for one day, but that it miraculously lasted the full eight days—would attach itself to the festival centuries later.24 Antiochus IV died while on campaign in Parthia. His minister Philip was returning with the king’s signet ring to replace Lysias as vice-regent and protector of the young Antiochus V. Judas used the uncertainty in Antioch to resume his consolidation of territory and engaged in a number of skirmishes with local Gentile populations, ostensibly to cleanse the land of Hellenic altars. The many Gentiles in Palestine were alarmed by the victories of Judas, and the conflict was turning into a mélange of Hellenistic Jews versus Maccabeans versus Gentiles. Judas rescued Jewish communities from Gilead and the Galilee, destroyed Hebron and its surrounding


villages in the south, and then marched through “the land of the Philistines,” plundering and destroying their graven images and altars.25 Judas had become a war lord, and in the view of their Syrian masters, as well as in the view of the Gentiles living throughout the land, a unifying foe. Judas laid siege to the Akra, the base of Seleucid power in the land and protector of Menelaus, the high priest. Menelaus escaped with some of the garrison and appealed to Lysias, who attacked Judas with a large army, including elephants. Eleazar, the brother of Judas, charged under an elephant he thought carried the general, stabbed it in the heart with his spear and died as the elephant collapsed on him. Despite Eleazar’s courage, Lysias was not on the elephant, and at the end of the day, gave Judas his first defeat. After destroying Beth-zur, Lysias laid siege to Jerusalem. Because it was a Sabbatical Year and provisions in the city were scarce, they appeared vanquished, but Lysias had to return to Antioch to preserve his power against his rival Philip, and he offered the Maccabeans a renewal of peace with the admonition that Judas should let the land live in peace. Back in Antioch, Lysias decided that Menelaus was the cause of all the troubles and executed him, naming in his place a genuine Aaronite priest called Alcimus. Although the Hasideans recognized the legitimacy of Alcimus, Judas did not. He resumed the siege of the Akra and prevented Alcimus from entering the temple. At this time a new claimant to the Seleucid throne arrived from Rome. Demetrius, the son of Seleucus IV and nephew of Antiochus IV, had been held hostage as part of the senate’s control of Seleucid kingship, but he escaped, and upon entering Antioch, he was hailed by the people as the legitimate king, and the army accepted him. Antiochus V Eupator and Lysias were soon executed. Alcimus led a delegation of Hellenists to Demetrius and appealed for protection against the attacks of Judas. Demetrius confirmed Alcimus as high priest and sent his general Bacchides to establish Alcimus in his office. A number of the Hasideans came to ask just terms for a peaceful transition, that is, assurance that Alcimus would perform his duties according to their views of the law. Alcimus swore an oath that their lives would be protected, but when they came before him, he executed 60 of them. Bacchides also found and killed many of the supporters of Judas and then returned to Antioch. With such treachery from the start under Demetrius and Alcimus, no hope remained for reconciliation between the Hellenists and the Maccabeans. Unabashed war followed. Another Syrian general, Nicanor, came with a new army. The Maccabeans joined battle with the new army, and Nicanor was among the first to fall and his army was destroyed. The soldiers of Judas seized the spoils of war and displayed the head and right hand of Nicanor outside the walls of Jerusalem. The narrator of 1 Maccabees concluded, “So the land of Judah had rest for a few days” (7:50). At this point Judas felt strong enough to seek complete independence. To do so, he knew he must pay court to the king makers of the world, the Roman senate. He sent two distinguished envoys, one of whom was the historian Eupolemus son of John, to Rome with a request to the senate that Judas and his people “be enrolled as allies and friends.” The senate approved the treaty of friendship, by which Rome recognized Judas as the independent ruler of Judaea. Naturally, there is some doubt


about the legitimacy of this document preserved only in 1 Maccabees, but in reality, Rome customarily made such gestures and grants of recognition. It cost them nothing, as Judas and his followers learned soon enough. The senate may even have sent a message to Demetrius, warning that he should no longer interfere with Jewish affairs. But Demetrius, with his own Roman connections, would have known of the senate affairs, and he acted swiftly. He sent Bacchides, his most able general, back to Jerusalem with an army of 24,000. The army of Judas had fallen to 3000 men, and when they saw Bacchides, their courage failed them. All but 800 slipped away in the night. The next day, Judas was dispirited, and his men pleaded with him to save his life and flee. Judas refused. Perhaps he felt his time had come. He fought bravely and died. His brothers Jonathan and Simon buried him in the family tomb near Modein, and all Israel mourned: “How is the mighty fallen, the savior of Israel!”26

Chapter 7

Rise and Fall of the Hasmonean Kingdom (161–67 b.c.e.)

7.1 Mediterranean World The decadent and decaying Ptolemaic joint rule of the brothers Ptolemy VI Philometor and Ptolemy VIII Physcon (“potbelly”) in Egypt remained awkward and unsettling both for Alexandria and for Rome. Palace intrigue fostered insurrection by the native Egyptians, and both Ptolemies appealed for support from Rome; then both chose to skirt the senatorial decisions. But by 154, Philometor seems to have secured his rule in Alexandria, with Physcon isolated as ruler of Cyrene (163–145) and his son Ptolemy Eupator the governor of Cyprus. Upon the death of Philometor in 145, the young Ptolemy VII Neos Philopator succeded his father, only to be assassinated by Physcon, who then returned to rule in Alexandria (145–116). Before Physcon died, he impregnated his niece in her pubescence, and with his niece-wife Cleopatra III Euergetis (116–101), produced a son, Ptolemy IX Lathyrus (“chickpea,” 116–107; 87–81), and another, Alexander. When Ptolemy Physcon died in 116, he left the kingdom to Cleopatra III and her choice of male heir among her two sons, Ptolemy Lathyrus or Alexander. Although she preferred Alexander, the people desired Lathyrus, and Cleopatra recalled him from his office as governor of Cyprus for joint rule. Alexander replaced him in Cyprus. That lasted until 107. Cleopatra then accused Lathyrus of plotting to murder her, and the Alexandrians rioted against him, forcing him back to Cyprus. Alexander returned to rule with Cleopatra while Ptolemy Lathyrus raised an army to wage against his mother. Elsewhere in the Mediterranean, Rome was occupied in 154 by a major rebellion in Spain by two groups, the Celtiberians in the northeast and the Lusitanians in the west. The Celtiberians made peace by 151, but the Lusitanians withstood Roman control until 139. And Carthage would soon complete its 50 years of payments since its surrender to Rome after the battle of Zama, so both sides were preparing for the third and final Punic war (149–146 b.c.e.), also called the Carthaginian War. By the end of the war the city of Carthage, which at one time may have sustained a population of 250,000, had only 50,000 left to surrender. Rome sold the survivors into slavery, razed the city, and the territory became the Roman province of Africa. The year 141 marked a transition in Persian politics that set in motion a clash of Titans between East and West that would ebb and flow for almost 800 years until

Rise and Fall of the Hasmonean Kingdom 113

the coming of Islam. The Parthians were the rising power in the East; Rome the rising power in the West. The decline of the Seleucid Empire left the lands of Asia Minor once again open for the taking, and both empires would find it necessary to control them for national security. The Parthian people were originally nomads, known as the Parni, who settled in the northeast of the ancient Persian Empire. They traced their kingship to a certain Arsaces I, a governor under the Bactrian king Diodotus, who revolted around 247 and established his own kingdom in the former Persian, now Seleucid, satrapy of Parthia, along the southern shore of the Caspian Sea. Over the next few generations they emerged under the name of their territory as Parthians with their ruling dynasty the Arsacid. Each of the Parthian kings expanded his independent rule as the Seleucid kingdom dissolved, until Mithridates I (171–139) advanced on Babylon in 141 and occupied Seleucia-on-the-Tigris, a city of some 600,000 people comprised of Macedonians and Greeks along with healthy minorities of Jews and Syrians. Although for the next 20 years the land would be fought over, lost, and retaken, it came permanently into Parthian control under Mithridates II by 122. The Parthians, who remained a largely pastoral people governed by aristocratic families, had no interest in transforming the existing Hellenistic culture or religions of the cities, and they left the various cultural groups, including the Jews, undisturbed, so that the gradual transformation from Seleucid to Parthian hegemony passed smoothly.

7.2 Jewish Diaspora We have little information on the Jewish population of Mesopotamia at this time, except that they had lived there for more than four centuries and were now spread out across the land between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Pliny the Elder (23–79 c.e.) mentions a certain Zachalias of Babylon, a Hellenistic Jewish name, who dedicated a book to King Mithridates in which he “attributes man’s destiny to the influence of precious stones.”27 We should also bear in mind the natural increase of exiled Jews as well as descendants of the exiled ten tribes of Israel into the northern regions of Mesopotamia, especially around the city of Nisibis (modern Nusaybin, in southern Turkey), many of whom will come to light in the first century c.e. Given the silence of our sources, it appears the Jews of Babylonia remained aloof from the Maccabean revolt. The communities cooperated with the imperial authorities for their security and social advancement. Whatever they thought of the revolt in Judaea, it left no scar on their collective memory. The Jews of Egypt went through their own political trauma upon the death of Ptolemy VI Philometor in 146. His widow, Cleopatra II, proclaimed their 16-yearold son, Ptolemy VII Neos Philopator, as the new ruler under her regency. This did not sit well with Physcon, the younger brother of Ptolemy VI, who had once been co-ruler but was confined to ruler of Cyrene since 163. He induced riots in Alexandria with a mob calling for his return to kingship. Cleopatra’s support appears to have been limited to the elite intellectuals and Jews, led by two Jewish generals Onias and Dositheus, whom she made commanders of her entire army. When


Physcon arrived in Egypt, he proposed a return to joint rule and then had the young Ptolemy Neos assassinated during his wedding, reducing the joint rule to himself and Cleopatra II. Physcon crowned himself Ptolemy VIII Euergetes II, and soon after he avenged himself on those who had opposed his kingship, the intellectuals and the Jews. Josephus claims Physcon rounded up the Jews of Alexandria, men, women, and children, and exposed them naked in the hippodrome where they were to be trampled to death by elephants, which had been rendered intoxicated just for the task. The elephants, however, being driven under the influence, were uncontrollable and ended up stampeding Physcon’s friends who had gathered to watch the spectacle. The memory of this incident gave rise to an annual celebration among the Jewish community of Alexandria similar to Purim in memory of Esther, and whatever the actual historical circumstances, it was expanded into the historical romance known as 3 Maccabees. The incident demonstrated the confidence of Jews to be engaged in the politics of their land and their loyalty to the Ptolemaic dynasty, siding with Cleopatra as the more legitimate ruler. Again in 107 the Jews of Alexandria come briefly into the picture. After Cleopatra III accused her son Ptolemy IX Lathyrus of treason, many of the Jews in Alexandria and on Cyprus sided with Lathyrus, but the Jews in Heliopolis remained faithful to Cleopatra. She appointed two sons of Onias IV, Chelkias (Hilkiah) and Ananias (Hananiah), commanders of her army, and they became powerful advisors for her foreign policy, which in due course would affect Judaea. According to the later testimony of Valerius Maximus, Jews had already immigrated to Republican Rome in the second century b.c.e., perhaps in the wake of the embassy sent by Judas Maccabeus, if not earlier. Among them, Jewish missionaries had achieved some success in teaching their monotheism to people in Rome, so that in 139 b.c.e. Cornelius Hispalus, the magistrate responsible for foreign residents “banished the Jews from Rome because they attempted to transmit their sacred rites to the Romans, and he cast down their private altars from public places.” It has been suggested that the private altars were those of the Roman “converts” to the Jewish cult, rather than private altars of the Jews themselves, although in this syncretistic age, with a temple to Yahweh established in Egypt, either view is possible. Or the term altar may simply mean a shrine or early synagogue. In a second reference, the cult is directed to Jupiter Sabazius, which was probably a Latin way of referring to the Jewish God of the Sabbath, though it might involve a fair amount of syncretism. At the very least, the evidence testifies of a Jewish mission on behalf of DeuteroIsaiah to take the sovereignty of God to the Gentiles.28

7.3 Hasmonean Dynasty After the defeat and death of Judas Maccabeus in 161 b.c.e., the high priest Alcimus took control of the temple and immediately offended the nationalists by tearing down the wall separating the holy and profane areas that had previously kept Gentiles out. But Alcimus died within a year; struck down by God, they said. The new king of Syria, Demetrius I (162–150), refused to appoint a new high priest,

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hoping no doubt that the absence of this most contentious figurehead would dispel the conflict among the Jews. There was a legitimate high priest, Onias IV, son of Onias III whose removal had been the start of the all the conflict and who might have been acceptable to all sides. But upon the appointment of Alcimus, Onias IV went to Egypt, and with the permission of Ptolemy VI, he built a rival temple for the Jewish community in Heliopolis, where he acted as high priest in exile. He died in Egypt, but the temple he built outlasted the one in Jerusalem. In Judaea, the high priesthood remained vacant for 7 years (159–152), a remarkable sabbath rest. The complete absence of a functioning high priest presents problems that are not answered in our sources, such as the rituals for Yom Kippur, which required the high priest. One solution could have been a substitute deputy high priest. Or, under emergency, a non-official high priest might have been put forward by one or more groups, such as the Hasideans to observe the rituals of the feast. This possibility may have been attempted, and the priest may have been remembered as the Teacher of Righteousness by the community of the Dead Sea Scrolls, who became avowedly anti-Maccabean. It is conceivable that the pro-Maccabean source of 1 Maccabees simply omits a known figure who served in the capacity of high priest. For lack of evidence, however, the proposed solutions remain conjectures, and we are left with the 7 years known as the intersacerdotium. The Maccabean supporters, who may be called traditionalists or even nationalists, also appear to have rested and recovered much of their strength and spirit, for when we see them again, their forces are sufficient to govern the land, and Israel appears nearly united. Bacchides remained in Judaea after the death of Judas long enough to fortify strategic towns that would help keep the land secured under Seleucid control. Leadership of the traditionalists passed to Jonathan, and with his two remaining brothers John and Simon, they removed themselves into the wilderness beyond the reach of Demetrius or the Hellenists. They sustained themselves as brigands in support of the Jews of the land and gained a wide following among the Jewish peasants. John and a number of supporters attempted to safeguard the Maccabean arms and wealth in Nabataea, but certain sons of Jambri from Medeba attacked his caravan, killed him and stole the baggage. Jonathan and Simon later took revenge by ravaging the caravan of a wedding party for one of the sons of Jambri.29 While the Hellenistic Council officiated in Jerusalem, Jonathan set up a shadow government. The rest of the acts of the Hasmonean brothers must be seen within the light of a broader political arena. The name Hasmonean, or Asmonean, appears to have been an ancestral name and became the dynastic title of the descendants of Mattathias.30 Judaea was a small, if strategic, stretch of land on the maps of the greater kingdoms of Rome, Parthia, Syria, and Egypt. The Hasmoneans now played the game of kings, and they had only to learn the art of the wager—to back the right horse in the contest over the disintegration of the Seleucid Empire. At this point in his history of the Jewish people, Josephus introduces the famous Jewish groups, Sadducees, Pharisees, and Essenes, in the guise of three philosophical schools.31 The Essenes declare Fate (Providence) determines all things; the


Sadducees declare Fate a figment of human imagination and people are responsible for their own affairs; while the Pharisees, like the literary figure Tevye of a later age, say “on the one hand there is Fate, and on the other there is free will.” Josephus presents the Jewish groups to a Greco-Roman audience as philosophical schools so that the Gentiles may appreciate the high culture of the Jews, as well as a basis for explaining the internal strife his readers may have heard of. His description, however, is too benign at this point, and a political origin of the later schools of thought, one worthy of the turmoil of this generation, lies hidden beneath the dust.32 The most fertile ground for the emergence of the parties was the 7-year intersacerdotium, or shortly thereafter, yet even then the parties did not spring rootless from the soil. The Hasideans represented a long lineage of those Judaeans who clung to the worship of Yahweh as codified in the laws of Moses and would no doubt number Nehemiah, Ezra, and Jeremiah among their ancestors. Likewise, Mattathias and his sons were but one family of many thousands who rejected the syncretism of the more radical Hellenistic Jews. The fundamental ideological division lay between those descendants of Abraham who felt obligated to retain the Jewish distinction from the Gentiles and those who wished to “be like the other nations.” Within either camp, more refined views created additional differences, which in due course give rise to different groups. This social phenomenon, hardly distinctive of Jews, will play itself out during the rest of our history, as indeed it continues through the religious denominations of modern times. The standard reconstruction of the political origins of the schools of thought lies in the search for new leadership of an independent Israel. The high priest had been, or was thought to have been, a descendant of the priest Zadok, the first high priest of the first temple, anointed along with Solomon. Since the high priesthood was by definition dynastic, going back to Aaron through his grandson Phineas, the Zadokite lineage was deemed the only legitimate one for high priests. When this lineage ended with Onias III (Onias IV had died in Egypt) and the Hellenistic usurpers had all been dispatched, the Hasmonean brothers, Jonathan and Simon, with the consent of a portion of the people, placed the high-priestly miter on their own heads. This break from the Zadokite line was rejected by others, most forcefully by the group that eventually occupied the site of Qumran near the Dead Sea. Slightly less dedicated opponents of the Hasmoneans may have banded together to become the Essenes. For both, the covenant with God meant a covenant of the sons of Zadok.33 According to the internal history of the community of the Dead Sea Scrolls, their origins began during the “age of wrath” 390 years after the destruction of the temple in 587, hence around 177. At that time, they emerge like a “root sprung from Aaron and Israel,” but they “groped for the way for twenty years, until God sent them a leader,” the Teacher of Righteousness (or Righteous Teacher). Not everyone of their group recognized the Righteous Teacher, and some of their number, led by the Liar (or Scoffer) turned against him. In the struggle that followed, the Righteous Teacher and his followers withdrew into exile in the “land of Damascus” and established their “new covenant.”34 Other Qumran sources describe the opponent of the Righteous Teacher as the Wicked Priest, who persecuted the Teacher and


the elect, even on their Day of Atonement.35 Eventually the Righteous Teacher died, and his followers remained excluded from the majority in Israel. The “wicked priest” (ha-cohen ha-rasha) may be a pun on “high priest” (ha-cohen ha-roash), and if so, he must have been one of the Maccabees, probably Jonathan. Some scholars argue the Wicked Priest and the Liar are one person; others distinguish between them. In the end, however, we have a basic understanding that the community who later set up camp at the site of Qumran near the Dead Sea traced their origins to the days of the Hasmonean brothers and what they considered the illegitimate leadership. Some priests who could derive their lineage from Zadok but who nevertheless supported the Hasmoneans may have called themselves the Zadokites. Even though one of their own did not occupy the office of high priest, by lending their legitimacy to the popular rulers they retained their base of power among the priestly aristocracy, at least over Jerusalem. In due course, the priests who supported the Hasmoneans, whether descendants of Zadok or not, formed the Zadokite party known to Josephus as the Sadducees. Another possible etymology of Sadducee is the Hebrew tsaddik (“righteous”), and while Zadokite is the more likely, the association with righteousness would not have been discouraged by the Sadducees. The Pharisees are the most obscure, but given the nature of our source in 1 Maccabees, they are generally thought to have also arisen out of the Hasideans, possibly those who were scribes and, therefore, experts in the law.36 If so, they formed their own pietistic movement, one not as prone to separate themselves from the common people, or even from the ruling power, as were the Essenes. In short, while they probably opposed the non-Zadokite high priests, they preferred to influence the rulers of Israel as loyal partisans. They developed into something of a scholarly class that took in members from among both the priests and the laity and specialized in a general interpretation of Torah applicable to a “kingdom of priests.” What they called themselves at this stage we do not know, but at some point the name Pharisee, probably derived from the Hebrew perushim (“separatists”), was affixed to their movement.

7.3.1 Jonathan the Hasmonean The sullen and despotic Demetirus I had lost much of his popular support in Antioch and was making enemies among the princes of Syria. Attalus II, king of Pergamum, began pressing for greater control of Asia Minor and supported a new contender for the Seleucid throne in the person of Alexander Balas, who claimed to be the son of Antiochus IV. Balas received the endorsement of Rome at the request of Attalus, and then with the backing of the king, as well as Ptolemy VI, he landed at Ptolemais-Aker (modern Acco). Suddenly, in 152, Jonathan the Hasmonean, the only true power in Judaea, found himself courted by both sides. Demetrius offered Jonathan complete military command of Judaea, with the right to raise an army in his support, while Balas added the office of high priest. Jonathan sided with Balas in the war for the throne, raised an army, and became the high priest. In a desperate bid for the support of Jonathan, Demetrius offered him the districts of Samaria,


to endow the temple with rich gifts, and give over the Akra fortress. Jonathan wisely judged the promises too liberal to be genuine and kept faith with Balas. The following year Balas defeated Demetrius and became the Seleucid king. Ptolemy Philometor offered his daughter Cleopatra Thea to Alexander Balas; the marriage once again aligned the Seleucid and Ptolemaic kingdoms (150/49). The wedding was held in Ptolemais-Akko, where Jonathan as well as emissaries from the Judaean Hellenists were present. Balas, knowing quite well where power lay, ignored the Hellenists while he honored Jonathan with a robe of purple and confirmed all the political authority he already retained by strength.37 Within 3 years the Seleucid throne was again contested. The sons of Demetrius I had fled after the death of their father, but the heir, Demetrius II, soon returned to Syria with a force of mercenaries, intending to take back the throne. Ptolemy immediately marched north in a land grab under the cover of rescuing his sonin-law, and Jonathan also took the occasion to occupy the port cities of Joppa and Ascalon, by which he added to his coffers and controlled the Gaza strip. Cleopatra Thea escaped Antioch, declaring the marriage void, and the people of Antioch also embraced Demetrius II. Ptolemy promptly offered Cleopatra Thea to Demetrius II, and they wed in 145. Alexander Balas fled to Arabia, where a chieftain assassinated him, but Ptolemy was also wounded in the battle and died shortly after. Because Jonathan had initially sided with Balas, he had become the enemy of the new king Demetrius II, but he felt strong enough to break away ever more from Seleucid authority. He again laid siege to the Akra in Jerusalem, and again the Hellenists accused him of insurrection and appealed to Demetrius II. The new king summoned Jonathan, who appeared with gifts and new demands. Much to the dismay of the Jerusalem opposition, the king granted Jonathan the provinces of Samaria promised by Demetrius I and exemption from tribute for the entire region under his control. Jonathan scarcely had time to enjoy his spoils when opportunity for further expansion presented itself. A former general under Balas, called Diodotus Tryphon, appeared in Antioch with yet a new rival to the throne, another Antiochus the son of Balas. Jonathan offered Demetrius II some initial support, but when he and Simon determined who the next king would be, they went over to the young Antiochus, pledging their support. For the next few years, Jonathan used the ongoing conflict over the Seleucid throne to strengthen his control in Jerusalem and its environs, always under the guise of helping Antiochus. Simon installed a Jewish garrison in Joppa and fortified the Judaean lowlands. Jonathan sent envoys to Rome to renew the treaty of friendship made initially by Judas. Jewish envoys also established friendly relations with Sparta and other areas.38 But the stronger Jonathan became as head of the Jews, the greater the threat of independence from Syria he posed. Tryphon marched an army down to Scythopolis (Beth-Shean), where he met with Jonathan. The Syrian general showered Jonathan with honors and promised to hand over the city of Ptolemais. At Tryphon’s suggestion, Jonathan dismissed all but 1000 of his troops and accompanied Tryphon to Ptolemais. When he arrived, Jonathan was taken into custody and his men slaughtered. The alarmed Jews quickly responded to the treachery. The last Maccabean brother, Simon, assumed leadership and fortified the land. He expelled the Gentiles from Joppa and annexed


the city. Tryphon offered to release Jonathan in exchange for unpaid tribute and Jonathan’s sons as hostage. Simon sent all he asked, upon which, Tryphon executed Jonathan and returned to Syria.

7.3.2 Simon the Hasmonean In 143, Simon sent a delegation to Demetrius with a gold crown and palm branch, tokens of alliance, and asked in return for complete exemption from tribute for Judaea. Demetrius, wisely conceding what he could not control, canceled all tribute and awarded Simon the newly won territory, including the fortified cities. In essence, Demetrius granted the Jews independence, or as the Maccabean historian recorded: The yoke of the Gentiles was removed from Israel, and the people began to write in their documents and contracts, “In the first year of Simon the great high priest and commander and leader of the Jews.”39

Simon built a monument of polished stone over the tomb of his father and brothers near the town of Modein as a national memorial. He also erected seven pyramids nearby, for his father, mother, and four brothers, and adorned them with armor and carved ships, and all of this under great columns that could be seen from ships at sea.40 The powerful Tryphon, in 142, executed his protégée, Antiochus VI, and claimed the throne himself. The turmoil in Antioch left Judaea in relative peace. Simon captured the strategic Gentile city of Gazara that stood at the foothills of the Judaean highlands and controlled the route from the coast to Jerusalem. He expelled the Gentiles and settled it with “men who observed the law.”41 Shortly after, he starved the garrison in Jerusalem into submission, and by 141, all Jerusalem fell under his control. In the year following the liberation of Jerusalem, the Jews came together in the ancient tradition of a general assembly to legitimate the rule of Simon, whose authority had so far relied on Gentile proclamation. Those must have been heady days. After a civil war over religious expression that lasted two decades, and a growing sense of nationalism, the Jews gained independence from Gentile rule. In the third year of Simon’s tenure as high priest (140), the people and their priests acclaimed Simon as their ruler. And the Jews and their priests decided that Simon should be their leader and high priest for ever, until a trustworthy prophet should arise, and that he should be governor over them and that he should take charge of the sanctuary and appoint men over its tasks and over the country and the weapons and the strongholds, and that he should take charge of the sanctuary, and that he should be obeyed by all, and that all contracts in the country should be written in his name, and that he should be clothed in purple and wear gold.42

Just as when they had destroyed the great altar and set the stones aside until a prophet should arise with further instructions, so too, this declaration was carefully phrased to permit divine rule over the public decision. The formula probably


represents a compromise between the supporters of the Hasmonean family and other groups now forming. The authority behind the proclamation drew on the biblical precedent in establishing David as king over Judah and Israel.43 The Mosaic law on kingship outlined in Deut 17:14–20 gave the people a right to place a king over them, one which God had chosen, and in that sense, as with David, successful leadership was a sign of divine approval. Up until this point, the Seleucid and Ptolemaic kings, as successors to Alexander the Great, who himself replaced the Persian kings, held the office of legitimate kingship. Even the office of high priest, which carried its own legitimacy from antiquity as a descendant of Aaron and the Deuteronomic constitution, was dependent on the approval of the king, and the people accepted the appointments of Seleucid kings. Even Jonathan had become high priest on the authority of Alexander Balas. Now the authority of foreign kings had faded since the “the yoke of the Gentiles was removed from Israel,” and the authority for a new king and high priest reverted to the people, with the proviso that a prophet could arise to speak for God and tell them otherwise. Kingship, however, was perhaps too bold a move at this point. Although the people gave Simon leave to wear the trappings of kingship, “the purple and the gold,” they did not designate him as “king,” nor did he assume that title. “So Simon accepted and agreed to be high priest, to be commander and ethnarch of the Jews and priests, and to be protector of them all.”44 The title of ethnarch meant specifically “ruler of the people.” The full decree was engraved on tablets of bronze and set prominently in the temple, as a declaration of independence and constitutional authority. Simon had also taken the initiative with Rome to renew the treaty of friendship under his rule, as well as with Sparta. The Jewish delegation brought to Rome a large gold shield as a gift to the Roman people, and the senate issued a decree confirming Simon as high priest of the Jews and the territory they had gained. The senate also instructed other kingdoms and provinces to show the same recognition. Simon ruled the Jews for another 6 years, and they were remembered as good years by his supporters: “He established peace in the land, and Israel rejoiced with great joy. Each man sat under his vine and his fig tree, and there was none to make them afraid.”45 He made his son John Hyrcanus commander of the Jewish army and heir apparent. In the year that Simon became the ruler of the Jews, Demetrius II campaigned against Parthian unrest east of the Euphrates and left Tryphon to his own devices. Demetrius, however, was captured by Mithridates of Parthia and kept imprisoned under palace arrest, as a pawn of Parthia. In his stead, Antiochus Sidetes, brother of Demetrius, emerged from Rhodes and declared himself Antiochus VII Euergetes (138–129). Antiochus VII took Cleoptra Thea as his queen, and then he hunted down Tryphon and forced him to commit suicide. The new king confirmed all the privileges on Simon that his brother had given but then reneged on his promises and sent a general to retrieve the cities Simon and Jonathan had annexed, Gazara and Joppa, as well as the fortress in Jerusalem, or to exact payment for them. Simon refused to return them and offered a paltry 100 talents in payment. Antiochus sent an army against the Jews, but it was defeated, and Judaea had little trouble from Antiochus from then on.


Simon might have died in peace, but for the continual quest for power even within his own household. A certain Ptolemy, the son-in-law of Simon and governor of Jericho, sought the throne of Judaea, such as it was. We know little of this man, except he was a Jew, probably from Alexandria. While Simon toured the land with two of his sons, Mattathias and Judas, Ptolemy gave a banquet for them in the fortress of Dok, near Jericho. While they feasted and became drunk, Ptolemy and his assassins killed them. Ptolemy further attempted to kill John Hyrcanus, the last son of Simon, and to take Jerusalem, but in each case, Hyrcanus thwarted him. Ptolemy returned to the fortress of Dok near Jericho, where Hyrcanus besieged him. But Ptolemy had captured the mother of Hyrcanus and threatened to kill her if the fortress were taken. When the sabbatical year began, the siege was abandoned. Ptolemy then killed the mother of Hyrcanus and fled the land.

7.3.3 John Hyrcanus After the death of his father, John Hyrcanus had soon to deal with the Syrian king Antiochus VII Euergetes. The king took advantage of the Jewish Sabbatical Year (October 135–October 134) and besieged Jerusalem. The city slowly starved into submission, and Hyrcanus attempted to send out all the noncombatants so they could survive, but the Syrians would not let them pass. The ejected people wandered outside the walls, starving, and Hyrcanus had to take them in again at the Feast of Tabernacles. Hyrcanus asked for a truce, and Antiochus granted it, and even sent sacrifices to the Jews for their festival. Soon after, Hyrcanus sued for peace. He gave Antiochus back tribute, the taxes owed for Joppa and other cities outside the recognized territory of Judaea, and hostages. When he was freed of the war, Josephus tells us, Hyrcanus took a new and provocative measure. He raided the tomb of David, removing 3000 talents of silver, and used it to enlist foreign mercenaries.46 Neither of these acts can have endeared him to the traditionalists. Around this time, Hyrcanus renewed the treaty of friendship with Rome. The renewed treaty, as always, offered Rome’s sanction, and perhaps blessing, but little else. Hyrcanus was still obligated to Syria, such that around 130 b.c.e. he led a military detachment in support of Antiochus’s campaign against the Mithridates II of the Parthians.47 During this war Antiochus VII died, and thereafter, the continual struggle for the Seleucid throne left John Hyrcanus free to establish and extend his rule. Hyrcanus halted tribute to Syria and “furnished them no aid either as a subject or as a friend.” He exploited the power vacuum as rivals fought for the throne and embarked on his own conquests of expansion, by which he amassed considerable wealth.48 To the east, across the Jordan, he conquered the Nabataean cities of Madabe and Samaga. To the north, he took Mount Gerizim and destroyed the Samaritan temple built 200 years earlier during the conquest of Alexander the Great. Why Hyrcanus should have destroyed the Samaritan temple is not clear, since they too worshiped the God of Israel and revered the laws of Moses. But the animosity between Samaritans and Jews went back to the Persian era, and the rival temple may have simply continued as an offense to the Jews, or it may have been a rival temple,


attracting Jews who lived in the north. The destruction marks the permanent split between the Samaritans and the Jews. Shechem also fell to Hyrcanus and was destroyed. To the south, Hyrcanus conquered the two major Idumaean cities of Adora and Marisa, west of Hebron. (The land of Idumaea lay at the southern border of Judaea, comprising the Negev, and populated by Edomites, Arabs, Jews, Sidonians, and others.) Hyrcanus required the non-Jewish male residents to undergo circumcision if they wished to remain in the land. It appears that most of the Idumaean men, out of attachment to their land, performed the rite and agreed to abide by the customs of the Jews. In due course, Hasmoneans annexed the entire territory.49 Toward the end of his reign, Hyrcanus sent two sons, Antigonus and Aristobulus, to besiege the city of Samaria ostensibly because the people in the city had mistreated the Jewish colonists placed in the territory after he conquered Shechem.50 The Samaritans appealed to the current Syrian king, Antiochus IX Cyzicenus, for help. His army was defeated by the sons of Hyrcanus. Antiochus then asked Ptolemy IX Lathyrus to aid the Samaritans, which he did, against the wishes of the co-regent and Queen Mother Cleopatra III, who was partial to the Jews. This army also failed, and after a year the city of Samaria fell and was razed to the ground, or rather, below ground, for the Jews dug tunnels under the city and rain torrents caused the foundations to collapse. During the siege, the nearby city of Scythopolis (Beth Shean) was delivered over by Egyptian treachery to Hyrcanus—an act of betrayal the Gentile population would not soon forget.51 Josephus recounts a miraculous incident that occurred during the siege of Samaria. While John Hyrcanus performed his priestly duty of burning incense in the temple, he heard the voice of God telling him that his sons had just defeated Antiochus. Hyrcanus is supposed to have announced it to the people, which occurred on the very day his sons were victorious. By this means, Josephus claimed that John Hyrcanus was the only man to exercise all three divinely ordained offices of king, high priest, and prophet.52 Hyrcanus retained the favor of Rome and obtained two or three decrees from the Roman senate granting him recognition to cities and lands within his expanding jurisdiction. His domestic rule, however, was less unified. It is under Hyrcanus that divisions first surface among the lay leaders of the land in opposition to the ruling dynasty. Hyrcanus had favored the Pharisee party, whose influence among the people was strong, but one day, during a banquet, Hyrcanus asked his Pharisee councilors if they had observed any action of his that would detract from his righteousness, so that he might correct it. His advisors commended his virtue uniformly, except one, Eleazar, who replied, “Since you have asked to be told the truth, if you wish to be righteous, give up the high-priesthood and be content with governing the people.”53 When Hyrcanus asked why he should give up the high priesthood, Eleazar replied that they heard from their elders that the mother of Hyrcanus was a captive during the reign of Antiochus IV Epiphanes. If so, according to the law (Lev 21:14), Hyrcanus could not be high priest. Hyrcanus was rightly indignant, and when advised by a Sadducee to test their loyalty, he asked the Pharisees what punishment should be given to the slanderer. The Pharisees suggested flagellation, not the death penalty, and Hyrcanus took this to mean they agreed with the slander.


From that day on, Hyrcanus deserted the Pharisees, abrogated the laws they had established, and even punished those who followed them. Rabbinic tradition preserves some changes made by John Hyrcanus. He overturned the Pharisee ruling that people could do normal work during the middle days of a seven-day festival and did away with the Levite task of stunning the animals before they were slaughtered. The opponents of this humane interpretation, probably the Sadducees, felt the blow might cause a blood clot. Out of this, says Josephus, grew the hatred of the masses for Hyrcanus and his sons.54 The second generation of the philosophical schools intensified the party division in Israel. The Pharisees not only sought to separate the high priest from the kingship but also to regulate the interpretation of Jewish law for all the people. The Pharisees taught many traditions not written down in the Torah of Moses, that is, oral traditions and customary ways of interpreting the laws of Moses. The Sadducees, on the contrary, limited the law to what was written. In other words, if it was not in the Torah of Moses, it was a matter of individual choice. This approach to Scripture will in due course be extended to other matters of theology, but it is here that the Hasmoneans find a new source of opposition among their own people. The Sadducees, descendants of their philhellene ancestors, now gained the advantage with the aging Hyrcanus and gradually regained the power base around the temple. The Essenes not only opposed the Hasmonean diarchy but also objected to the legal interpretations of the Pharisees and the lunar calendar. There seems to have been an ancient dispute among Jews over whether the set holy days should follow a solar or lunar calendar, and the Essenes followed a solar year, while the majority had accepted a lunar year. If, as seems likely, the Essenes described by Josephus and Philo are to be associated with the community behind the Dead Sea Scrolls, then it is during the later years of John Hyrcanus that they removed themselves from the general population to a more secluded and pure life in the wilderness. Internal documents suggest the group broke away from a larger group in the early days of the Hasmonean rule over a dispute concerning certain matters of the law. And you know that we have separated from the mass of people, and from mingling with them in these matters. . . . We have also written to you [singular] concerning some of the observances of the Law, which we think are beneficial to you and your people. For we have noticed that prudence and knowledge of the Law are with you.”55

It is possible, and some say likely, the early Essenes suffered their own split and one group became the minority Essene sect who removed themselves to Khirbet Qumran near the Dead Sea. John Hyrcanus ruled the land of Judaea for 30 years. Independence required the economic and military infrastructure of a kingdom, even if the office of kingship went under the title of ethnarch. He minted coins with the inscription “John the High Priest and the Congregation of the Jews.”56 By the inscription it appears Hyrcanus saw himself first as high priest and then as ethnarch, alongside the ruling congregation (or council) of the Jews. His position was probably designed to extend his ethnic and religious authority in some manner over the Jewish Diaspora, where Jews lived under other kings.


7.3.4 Aristobulus I Hyrcanus was survived by his wife and five sons, three of whom are named by Josephus: Judas Aristobulus, Antigonus, and Alexander Jannaeus. Hyrcanus had named his wife regent, and Aristobulus, his eldest son, was to succeed him as high priest. Aristobulus, however, took power and let his mother starve to death in prison.57 He also imprisoned three brothers and kept only Antigonus by his side. Josephus claims that Aristobulus was “the first to put a diadem on his head,” that is, to take the title of king, but there is no support for this from the few coins during his reign. It is more likely, as Strabo says, that it was Aristobulus’s successor, Alexander Jannaeus, who first called himself king.58 Aristobulus ruled but for a single year. During that time, he extended the northern boundary of Judaea by conquering the Ituraeans, an Arab tribe from north Transjordan who had recently settled in the Biqâ Valley (Lebanon), north of the Galilee.59 As his father had done, Aristobulus required the men to be circumcised and live according to Jewish law if they wished to remain in their land. Since Hyrcanus had only taken Samaria and the city of Scythopolis, south of Lake Kinnert (Sea of Galilee), this was probably the beginning of Jewish control of the Galilee region.60 Through continual palace intrigue, Aristobulus was tricked into killing Antigonus, the brother he loved. He lived out the remaining months of his life in great remorse and sickness. Josephus says that a certain Judas the Essene predicted the assassination, which suggests Essene involvement in the affairs of state, and probably Essene residence in Jerusalem.61 Greek historians gave Aristobulus warm praise as a ruler, and Josephus quotes them approvingly. “This man was a kindly person and very serviceable to the Jews, for he acquired additional territory for them, and brought over to them a portion of the Ituraean nation, whom he joined to them by the bond of circumcision.”62

7.3.5 Alexander Jannaeus Upon the death of Aristobulus, his strong-willed queen, Salome Alexandra, released his brothers from prison and married Alexander Jannaeus, making him the new ruler.63 Alexander took the titles of king and high priest, as shown on his coins: “Jonathan the High Priest and the Congregation of the Jews,” and the bilingual coins “Jonathan the King” (Hebrew)—“King Alexander” (Greek). The name Jannaeus is the Greek form of Yanni, which is a shortened version of Yonathan, or Yehonatan, that is, Jonathan. By now the practice of two names, in Greek and Hebrew, was common. Very early in his reign, Alexander Jannaeus attempted to add the coastal city of Ptolemais (Akko) to his realm. The Seleucid rivals for the throne of Syria were unable to prevent the Jewish expansion, but the besieged city appealed to Ptolemy IX Lathyrus, who currently ruled Cyprus, having been ousted by his mother, Cleopatra III. Ptolemy engaged Jannaeus in battle at the Jordan River, and though Jannaeus


had a slightly larger force of more than 50,000, he lost the battle. Ptolemy’s army pursued and slaughtered the Jews “until their swords became blunted with killing, and their hands were utterly tired.”64 We are told 30,000 were slain. Ptolemy now had control of the entire land of Judaea, and he wished to press his advantage by taking Egypt from his mother. In the end, Alexander Jannaeus was saved only by an Egyptian army sent by Cleopatra III. After she had driven Ptolemy back to Cyprus, some advisors suggested that she annex all of Judaea, but her Jewish general, Ananias, persuaded her to form an alliance with Jannaeus, arguing that all her loyal Jewish subjects would turn against her if she took away the independence of Judaea.65 Following his advice, she made an alliance with Alexander Jannaeus, in the city of Scythopolis. Freed from the threat of Ptolemy, Jannaeus resumed his conquests. In the Transjordan, despite suffering one defeat with a loss of 10,000 soldiers, he extended his control in the south to Raphia and laid siege to Gaza. The siege lasted a year, and the city was taken only when a traitor from the inside opened the gates to Jannaeus. He let his army pillage the city, out of vengeance for their losses, and even slaughtered 500 councilmen who took refuge in the temple of Apollo. The opposition of the Pharisees to the Hasmoneans continued to grow, and their influence with the majority of the Jews eventually led to a civil war. The conflict began with an incident during Sukkot around 96. During the sacrifices, the people carried palm branches and a citron. When Jannaeus, serving as high priest, stood to make the sacrifice, the people pelted him with their citrons and added insult to injury by shouting that he had no right to serve as high priest because he was descended from captives. Enraged, Jannaeus unleashed his mercenaries, who killed some 6000 of his subjects. Soon after, his opponents organized and the war began. It dragged on for 6 years (ca. 94–88) and cost 50,000 lives. When Jannaeus tried to come to terms with his opposition, he asked what they wanted of him, and they all cried out “to die.” The opposition appealed to Demetrius III Eukairos, king of Syria, to remove Jannaeus from his throne. Demetriius came with a large army and was joined by the Jews who opposed their king. At the same time, Jannaeus had his loyal Jews and his Gentile mercenaries. Before the battle, the Greeks of the Syrian army appealed to the Greeks of Jannaeus’s army to desert and come over. Simultaneously, the Jews of Jannaeus’s army called on the Jews with Demetrius to come over to them. Neither side persuaded the other, and they met in battle outside Shechem. Demetrius was victorious, and Jannaeus fled to the hills. Then, apparently out of ethnic pride, 6000 Jews who fought with Demetrius did go over to support Jannaeus, and an alarmed Demetrius withdrew to Syria. Jannaeus resumed his war against the opposition Jews and finally trapped the remaining rebels in the city of Bemelchis, in lower Galilee. When he had taken the city, he brought back the prisoners to Jerusalem and entertained a spectacle the likes of which had never been seen in Israel. While he feasted with his concubines in the sight of all, he ordered 800 of his opponents, many of whom were Pharisees, to be crucified, and while they hung on the crosses, he had their wives and children slaughtered before their eyes. This barbarous act earned him the epithet of “Thracian” (something like “Cossack”), according to Josephus, and “Lion of Wrath”


in the Dead Sea Scrolls.66 The remaining 8000 opponents fled to the wilderness and remained in exile while Jannaeus lived. It is possible, perhaps even likely, that among these refugees we should number Essenes and the community behind the Dead Sea Scrolls who withdrew more radically from the congregation of Israel. In the last decade of his rule, Alexander Jannaeus suffered minor defeats in battles with his neighbors, but he also managed to extend his dominion to the greatest extent Judaea had ever known. Josephus lists the major cities and territories under his rule and concludes that the people of each city were required to adopt Jewish national customs. Pella, a city southeast from Scytholpolis on the other side of the Jordan, was destroyed because the people refused to submit to Jewish laws.67 The reign of Jannaeus coincided with the rise of the kingdom of Armenia under Tigranes II (95–55). Armenian traditions recall that Tigranes II, during his invasions of Syria, exiled many Jews from Syria into the hinterland of Armenia.68 These Jews added their numbers to the Jewish population, some of whom, we continue to note, were descended from the northern ten tribes of Israel, and therefore they were not lost. Around 85, a Parthian embassy came to Jerusalem, probably to establish an alliance with Jannaeus against Tigranes II of Armenia. Rabbinic tradition preserves an incident about Simeon ben Shetah, who sided with the Pharisees. He clashed with King Jannaeus on several occasions, one of which involved money, and he fled to Babylonia, where he impressed the Jewish community with his learning before returning to Palestine. The Parthian embassy that came to Jerusalem mentioned to Jannaeus a certain sage they had learned from in Babylon and asked the king in passing if he would bring forth this sage, who was most likely Simeon ben Shetah, to teach them again. Such a delegation that knew of a Jewish sage and wanted to hear him must have been comprised of Jews. The tradition is significant, for it reveals diplomatic relations with Parthia at a time when Rome was extending its hegemony in the East, and the involvement of Babylonian Jews in the politics of Judaea.69 Toward the end of his life, Alexander Jannaeus fell ill from heavy drinking. He knew he was leaving his family in the precarious position of ruling over a nation divided, and because he did not trust his sons to heal the wounds, he designated Salome as supreme ruler. On his death bed in 76, Jannaeus advised his queen to make peace with the Pharisees, a task he had found impossible. He even suggested she turn over his corpse to the leading partisans for abuse if they so desired, and by this means she might make peace with them. All this she did, and offered them power if they would honor the dead king. For their part, Josephus assures us, leading Pharisees made such grand eulogies about the king they had lost that the people mourned and provided a more grand burial than that given to any of his ancestors. And upon this display of political acumen, the Pharisees came again into power.

7.3.6 Salome Alexandra As much as Alexander Jannaeus was hated by his subjects, Queen Salome (Hebrew Shlomzion) was loved.70 Upon attaining the throne, she formed her council from the Pharisees, and following the advice of her husband, she did nothing


without consulting them. She designated the eldest son, Hyrcanus II, as high priest, and the younger, more energetic son, Aristobulus II, was given command of the army. Under her rule, the two offices of prince and high priest were again separated, and this will have appealed to many of her subjects, including the Pharisees. As naturally as the rainfall, the Pharisees and Sadducees took an heir apparent into their confidence, preparing for when the beloved queen would die. The Pharisees supported Hyrcanus II; the Sadducees sided with Aristobulus II. The Pharisees strengthened their power by recalling the exiles and then began taking vengeance on the Sadducees who had urged Alexander Jannaeus to execute the 800 rebels. The Sadducean nobility sent a delegation, headed by Aristobulus, demanding the queen put a stop to the Pharisee executions, and thus threatened by another civil war, she reined in the Pharisees on this count. But apart from that, the Pharisees were the new power behind the throne, which they proved by restoring all their legal decisions set aside under John Hyrcanus. The rest of her 9-year-reign was peaceful at the borders. A threat of invasion by the Armenian king Tigranes never materialized, partly because she forestalled it with gifts, and Rome already encroached on the Armenian territory. The Seleucid Empire came to an end in 69. In 67 Salome fell gravely ill. The eldest son, Hyrcanus II, was expected to take the throne and probably give the priesthood to Aristobulus. But the younger and more energetic Aristobulus, with the support of the Sadducean nobility, began raising an army to seize power. Within fifteen days he captured twenty-two fortresses around the land. Hyrcanus and the Pharisees urged Salome to take steps against him, and she gave them the authority over her army and the treasuries, but she died before the measures could be carried out. They did, however, place the wife and children of Aristobulus as hostages in the citadel. Josephus honored her memory with the words: “She was a woman who showed none of the weakness of her sex.”71

Chapter 8

The Coming of Rome (67–27 b.c.e.)

8.1 Mediterranean World The Roman Republic was crumbling. While Marcus Tullius Cicero (106–43), like a biblical prophet of old, decried the loss of the res publica, its powerful men acted on their own initiative and competed among themselves for leverage to uproot its aged foundations, and in imitation of Alexander the Great, extend their authority to the distant frontiers. The Seleucid Empire had already collapsed, and the Ptolemaic Empire would soon follow. Parthia pressed its claims to any disputed territory in Asia Minor, an inherent threat to Rome that it could not allow. Given the generation of chaos that lay ahead, Judaea would have ended up as a client kingdom of Rome under any circumstance. The Jews were entering a new imperial hegemony, another of the apocalyptic beasts from the sea, and they had but to negotiate the passage. A Hasmonean might have remained on the client throne, but their recent history did not inspire confidence. Hyrcanus II, who had been content to retire, was kept as high priest by Rome, while Aristobulus II and his two sons, Alexander and Antigonus, felt cheated of a rule rightfully theirs. Each had powerful friends and large numbers of partisans among the Jewish population. Each became a pawn of the major players in the Roman civil war.

8.2 End of the Hasmoneans When Queen Alexandra Salome died, Hyrcanus II controlled Jerusalem and assumed the throne. Aristobulus immediately declared war, and they did battle near Jericho.72 Many of the forces loyal to Salome went over to Aristobulus, and Hyrcanus II, the peaceful one who had neither the ambition for kingship nor the stomach for war, fled to Jerusalem, where he surrendered both his titles of king and high priest and was content to retire on the royal revenues. But Hyrcanus II was too valuable to be left to pasture. A wealthy Idumaean named Antipater, the son of the governor of Idumaea and father of Herod, the future king of Judaea, convinced Hyrcanus and others that Aristobulus had taken the throne illegally and that he ought to be removed. Antipater arranged a place of refuge in Petra, with the support of Aretas III, king of Nabataea, and persuaded


Hyrcanus to flee from Jerusalem. Hyrcanus then promised Aretas to return twelve cities taken from him if he helped him regain the throne of Judaea. Aretas marched against Aristobulus, and after defeating him in battle, forced him to flee to the temple mount, where Aretas erected a siege. The civil war now came to the attention of Rome. Pompey, after ridding the Mediterranean of Cilician pirates, had been commissioned by the Roman senate to deal with Parthian threat and the crumbling Seleucid Empire. While Pompey finished up the campaign against Tigranes of Armenia, he heard of the conflict between brothers in Judaea and he sent his envoy to Jerusalem to receive bids for power. Aristobulus won his favor with a gift of 400 talents, and Aretas was forced to withdraw, taking Hyrcanus with him. After the Romans had departed, Aristobulus pursued Aretas with his army and inflicted heavy casualties, among them Antipater’s brother. Aristobulus attempted to retain the favor of Pompey by sending him a golden grape vine worth 500 talents. The following year, 64, Pompey put an end to the Seleucid kingdom and subjugated the lesser dynasts in Syria and Lebanon. In the spring of 63 he received three Jewish delegations at Damascus. Hyrcanus, represented by his Idumaean handler Antipater, claimed his legal right to the throne, while Aristobulus argued his case by pointing out the incompetence of his brother. The third delegation, sent by the Jewish people, asked that neither Hasmonean be given authority, since the people were against them both. They preferred to have no king at all, and according to Josephus, made the following argument: “It was the custom of their country to obey the priests of the God who was venerated by them, but that these two, who were descended from the priests, were seeking to change their form of government in order that they might become a nation of slaves.”73 Although the speech is a composition of Josephus, himself a priest, and reflects his priestly views from a post-70 c.e. stance, the thrust of the petition may reflect the historical situation, and indeed, the views of the dominant party of Pharisees. The title of king, introduced by Alexander Jannaeus, if not by Aristobulus I, was the problem. Their ancestors had declared Simon to be ethnarch and high priest forever, not king. Some Jews of Judaea, like their brethren in the Diaspora, had grown accustomed to life within an empire, and the hopeless conflict of the Hasmoneans reminded them of the advantages of a distant and dispassionate foreign monarch keeping the land free from war while allowing the Jews to live according to their customs. It is doubtful, however, that the Sadducees or Pharisees wished to give up power to priests whom they did not control, nor would such a complaint have been made under Queen Salome. But the present strife had produced a sizable group of Jews prepared to wash their hands of the Hasmoneans and take their chances with Rome. Pompey deferred his decision, requesting that they keep a peaceful status quo until he had assessed the greater region, specifically Nabataea, and he would then return to render judgment. Aristobulus feared the loss of his throne to Hyrcanus and prepared for war, which came soon enough. Pompey learned of the decisions of Aristobulus and returned from Nabataea to march on Jerusalem. After some hesitation, Aristobulus meekly submitted. He brought gifts to Pompey in his camp

The Coming of Rome 131

and promised to open the city and give additional tribute. Pompey accepted the submission and sent his general Gabinius to take control of Jerusalem. But many of the partisans of Aristobulus in Jerusalem would not surrender the city, and Gabinius returned empty-handed. The partisans took control of the temple mount and continued preparations for war. Enraged, Pompey advanced on Jerusalem, and Hyrcanus let him into the city. Pompey raised a siege against the temple mount, building it each sabbath when no Jew would try to prevent it. After 3 months, by midsummer, on a sabbath, the Romans breached the temple walls and entered. Josephus, citing other historians who chronicled the exploits of Pompey, extols the fortitude of the priests who continued to offer the sacrifices while the soldiers killed those Jews who resisted, and Jews of opposing factions slaughtered each other. Many ended their own lives by jumping from the walls or setting fires and perishing in the flames. Again, according to Josephus, most of the 12,000 deaths on that day were the result of Jews killing Jews, presumably those supporting Hyrcanus against those supporting Aristobulus.74 When the carnage had ended, Pompey and his staff desecrated the Holy of Holies by entering it. Despite the sacrilege, Pompey left all the temple utensils and the treasury untouched, not, as Cicero is at pains to remind us, because he respected the religion of the Jews but rather out of his own sense of Roman honor.75 On the following day, he ordered the priests to cleanse the temple, gave Hyrcanus the high priesthood, and insured the resumption of temple worship. Essentially, he gave the people’s delegation what they wanted: Roman jurisdiction for the peace, and freedom to follow their national customs. He beheaded all those responsible for the war and placed the entire land under tribute. The cities of Greater Syria were liberated to their own inhabitants, repaired, and placed under the Roman governor of the new Roman province of Coele-Syria. The coastal cities of Straton’s Tower, Dora, Joppa, and Gaza were also liberated and annexed to Syria. Slightly more than a century since Judas Maccabeus rededicated the temple and inaugurated the Feast of Dedication, the Hasmonean legacy came to an end, with but a few death throes remaining. During the three generations of Hasmonean rule, more Jews died at the hands of their brethren than had perished under foreign overlords since King Cyrus of Persia had sent them back to the land of their ancestors. The descendants of the Maccabees had squandered their liberty and ventured away their autonomy. Aristobulus and his sons would make four attempts at regaining control of Judaea. In 57, Alexander, the eldest son of Aristobulus II, escaped from Roman custody, raised an army, and attempted to take back Jerusalem. He was thwarted by Gabinius, the governor of Syria, and allowed his freedom only after surrendering three fortresses that he held. Gabinius then divided the truncated Hasmonean territory into five districts, each governed locally by an aristocratic council: Sepphoris (Galilee); Ammathus (Peraea); Jericho; Jerusalem; Adora (Eastern Idumaea). His redistricting was designed to weaken the political power of the Jews and facilitate taxation. Judaea was just another cow to milk or sheep to fleece. In so doing, Gabinius reduced the authority of the Roman publicani, tax gatherers, for which Cicero took occasion to condemn corruption of the Roman administration of Syria.76


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The following year, Aristobulus and his son Antigonus likewise escaped from Roman custody, where they clearly had friends, and made a second attempt to gain power. Some Jews, says Josephus, recalling the former glory of Judaea, flocked to their side. This attempt fared no better than the first, and thousands more were slain. Aristobulus was again sent to Rome, where he was kept in chains, but the senate released his children, and they returned to Judaea.77 In 55, Gabinius, at the prompting of Pompey but without support of the senate, went to Egypt to reinstate Ptolemy XII Auletes (“fluteplayer”) as king. Antipater supported Gabinius and persuaded the Jews near Pelusium to act as guards to the entrance of Egypt. On his return, Gabinius found Alexander, elder son of Aristobulus, leading 30,000 Jews in another insurrection, killing Romans where he could find them. Gabinius met him in battle near Mount Tabor and put an end to it. Gabinius handed over the province of Coele-Syria to the new proconsul Licinius Crassus in 54. While Gabinius had been content to milk the land through taxation, Crassus had no time for mere extortion. Before waging a new war against Parthia, he came straight to Jerusalem and robbed the temple of the 2000 talents in the treasury and all the gold furnishings. One priest who knew of a hidden bar of pure gold attempted to ransom the temple vessels with it. Crassus gave an oath that he would accept the ransom and leave the vessels, but when the gold bar was produced, he took it and the vessels. Justice, however, was not blind. The following year, Crassus campaigned against Parthia, and he was defeated in battle at Carrhae. While on his way to negotiate a truce, the Parthians assassinated Crassus and brought his head like a hunting trophy to King Orodes, who was attending the theater, and threw it down amid the audience to much applause.78 The Judaeans nodded approvingly, and in a burst of pro-Parthian sentiment many aligned themselves with the Jewish community of Babylon, which remained altogether on the side of Parthia. Cassius Longinus replaced Crassus as governor of Coele-Syria from 53 to 51. During this time he had to put down one lingering insurrection, led by the obscure Pitholaus, a partisan of Aristobulus. Encouraged by Antipater, Cassius intervened, killed Pitholaus, and made slaves of his 30,000 Jewish followers.79 Although Josephus does not say what happened to them, they were probably sold as slaves and in due course gained their freedom and were reabsorbed into Jewish communities around Asia Minor. The Roman world was about to change. With the immortal words “Let the die be cast,” Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon in 49 and the civil war began.80 Pompey and the senate fled Rome. Caesar released Aristobulus and gave him two legions to engage Pompey in Syria, but Pompey loyalists poisoned Aristobulus before he could take up Caesar’s commission. Pompey also had Aristobulus’s son, Alexander, beheaded in Antioch. The two contestants for supreme power, Caesar and Pompey, met at the battle of Pharsalus on August 9, 48. Pompey was defeated and fled to Egypt, where the royal regents, eager to curry favor with the new leader, assassinated him. They pickled Pompey’s head, and when Caesar landed in Alexandria, presented it to him. Whatever reward they expected, Caesar dutifully wept at the sight and had the assassins executed.81


Then Caesar, as all the world knows—because men do not tire to tell of it—fell before the mystique of Cleopatra VII, the future nonpareil of the femme fatal. Upon the death of her father, Ptolemy XII Aueletes, in 51, Cleopatra VII Thea Philopator (“goddess loving her father”) assumed the throne at age 18, along with the obligatory male consort, her younger brother Ptolemy XIII, then about 12. She was to be the last Ptolemaic sovereign, and perhaps the most diplomatically gifted since the dynasty’s foundations. “It was a pleasure,” Plutarch informs us, “merely to hear the sound of her voice, with which, like an instrument of many strings, she could pass from one language to another.” She spoke, besides Greek, Egyptian, Ethiopian, Aramaic, Hebrew, Arabic, Syrian, Median, Parthian, and the obscure Troglodyte.82 Descriptions of her beauty, always qualified by the plainness of her face, included a sensitive mouth and exceptional nose. It was rather the impossible-to-describe feminine charm that brought conquerors to their knees. Plutarch did his best: “Plato admits four sorts of flattery, but she had a thousand.”83 Cleopatra began the tryst by cleverly having a Syrian carpetmonger smuggle her into Caesar’s dwelling inside a carpet, where she was unrolled “behind the enemy lines” and became his mistress that very night. Soon after, in the attempt to make Cleopatra the sole ruler, Caesar went to war with Ptolemy XIII, or rather, with the regents, who pinned down Caesar and his small force in Alexandria and brought him into the greatest peril of his military career. Mithridates of Pergamum came to Caesar’s rescue with a small auxiliary force, but he was not able to penetrate the Egyptian forces at Pelusium, and he camped, helplessly, in Ascalon. In Judaea, Antipater and Hyrcanus were no less eager to demonstrate their loyalty to Julius Caesar. Antipater, with the support of Hyrcanus, mustered 3000 heavily armed Jewish soldiers and helped Mithridates invade Egypt. When they reached the district of Onias, the Jews loyal to Ptolemy would not let them pass, but Antipater appealed to their common Jewish ethnicity, and no doubt their commonsense concerning Rome. He also produced a letter signed by their high priest, Hyrcanus, and persuaded them to let the Jewish troops pass. Not only did the Jews of Egypt change sides, but many joined the army of Antipater, and according to Josephus, Antipater and the Jews saved the neck of Mithridates, and thus the Alexandrian war for Caesar.84 Although the Jewish aid was real, Josephus may have fortified the numbers, for in a later decree of Caesar expressing his gratitude, the number of Jewish troops is 1500. When the victorious Caesar returned through Syria, he honored those who had come to his aid, Antipater and Hyrcanus among them. Caesar gave Antipater Roman citizenship and exemption from taxation, and made him procurator of Judaea, with fiscal and military responsibilities. Likewise, Caesar confirmed Hyrcanus as high priest in perpetuity but added to this the title of ethnarch, “ruler of the people,” and gave him permission to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, which had lain in ruins since the attack by Pompey. In due course, the city of Joppa with its harbor was returned to Hyrcanus, along with the royal estates in the Plain of Esdraelon (Jezreel), and exemption of the national tribute every seventh year.85 Caesar also affirmed various rights and privileges for Jews to live according to their customs in Egypt and Asia Minor. The senate of Rome ratified the decisions of Caesar, so that


even after his assassination, Hyrcanus and Antipater were as secure in their positions as Roman recognition could make them. Even the senate of Rome, however, could offer no protection from assassins or war. Antipater appointed his son Phasael governor of Jerusalem, and his son Herod governor of Galilee in 47. Herod, about 25 at the time, took up his commission with an alacrity that would garner him, in due course, the kingship of Judaea. He made his presence known immediately by hunting down a Galilean robber baron named Hezekiah, who ravaged the lower Syrian hills with his men but who were probably more than simple thieves. They may have been anti-Roman insurgents or merely rejected the authority of the “half-Jew” Antipater, a mere second-generation “convert” from his Idumaean (Edomite) origins. Herod captured Hezekiah and executed him along with a number of his men. The Syrians sang Herod’s praise, but the mothers of those slain appealed to Jerusalem, and the Jewish council of Jerusalem accused Herod of not abiding by the laws, which require a trial before execution. The council pressed Hyrcanus to summon Herod to trial, but the Roman governor of Syria ordered Hyrcanus to acquit Herod. When Herod did come before the council, he came robed in purple and with an impressive bodyguard. The council members sat mute with fear, and only one, Samaias, spoke out. He accused the council of weakness and predicted Herod would rule harshly over them one day if they did not bring him to justice now. He apparently convinced them, for Hyrcanus advised Herod to flee to Damascus so that Hyrcanus would not be in the difficult position of offending either the council or the governor of Syria. The civil war between supporters of Pompey and Caesar continued in Syria, and Antipater sent Jewish troops in support of Caesar’s generals, while Caesar campaigned in Africa. Then came the Ides of March 44. With the assassination of Julius Caesar, the Jews lost their most powerful advocate. It is said that the Jews of Rome lingered for several successive nights intoning their ancient prayers beside the ashes of Caesar’s funeral pyre.86 Mark Antony, Caesar’s co-consul, took up the avenging sword of Caesar, but his efforts at gaining power through a diplomatic and peaceful transition were thwarted by the appearance of Caesar’s adopted son Caius Octavian, who, with the help of Cicero, accused Antony of excusing the assassins Brutus and Cassius. Octavian raised an army from Caesar’s veterans and forced Antony to share power. The result was the Second Triumvirate, of Antony, Octavian, and another general of Caesar, Ameilius Lepidus. The triumvirs initiated a proscription against their wealthy enemies, and during a brief reign of terror, 300 senators, including Cicero, and some 2000 equestrians were murdered and their wealth confiscated. Antony, delighted to have rid himself of Cicero, nailed his head and hands, by which he wrote, over the rostra in Rome, where orators spoke.87 The next 3 years were filled with political intrigue and wars, during which the Jews along with the rest of the Mediterranean world sought their advantage. Out of necessity, Antipater and his sons had to deal with one of Caesar’s assassins, Cassius Longinus, who had been granted power in Syria but who then became the enemy of the Triumvirs. Cassius raised the Republican army, financed by a demand for 10 years’ taxes paid in advance from the eastern provinces. Judaea was required


to deliver 700 talents. Antipater gave the responsibility of raising the funds to his sons and one nobleman. Herod was the first to contribute his share of 100 talents from Galilee, and made a friend in Cassius. Cassius made Herod the governor of Syria, head of a significant army, and promised to make him king of Judaea after the Roman war. Four cities that did not meet their expectations, Gophna, Emmaus (Emmaus-Nicopolis), Lydda, and Thammna, were reduced to slavery.88 The rising power of Antipater and his sons alarmed other members of the aristocracy, and one, by the name of Malichus, succeeded in poisoning Antipater. Josephus eulogized Antipater as a “man distinguished for piety, justice, and devotion to his country,” though at the time, many Jews would hardly have agreed.89 Cassius authorized Herod to avenge the death of his father, but Herod, on the advice of his brother Phasael, waited until an opportune time to exact vengeance. Within the year, Malichus was slain by Roman soldiers near Tyre. When Cassius left Syria in 42 to confront the Triumvirs, chaos descended on Judaea and the entire region. Antigonus, the last surviving son of the Hasmonean Aristobulus, attempted to seize control of Judaea. Herod, with accomplishment and good fortune, repelled him but was unable to keep Marion, the tyrant of Tyre, from seizing parts of Galilee. Brutus and Cassius clashed with Antony and Octavian at Philippi in September of 42 and were defeated. Brutus, Cassius, and other members of the old aristocracy committed suicide. The Triumvirs split up the empire: Octavian got the West, Lepidus received Africa, and Antony took Egypt, Greece, and the East. Antony bequeathed an amnesty on all the eastern rulers who had supported his enemies on the condition that they give him 10 years’ tribute up front. He spent some time settling matters in Asia Minor. Herod, who had supported Cassius, now had a new problem, one that a delegation from Judaea exacerbated by appearing before Antony in Bithynia accusing Herod of seizing the authority that belonged to Hyrcanus, in other words, acting as if he were the ruler of the people. Herod hurried to defend himself, in which he was successful, and Hyrcanus sent a letter asking Antony to undo all the injustices Cassius had committed on Judaea, such as the enslavement of citizens. Antony did all that Hyrcanus asked and returned the territory of Galilee as well. Antony also recalled the time when he had served under Gabinius in Judaea and became friends with Antipater, and now, as a result of that friendship, he nominated Herod and Phasael as tetrarchs of the Jewish lands. The Parthian king, Pacorus, determined the time had come to invade Asia Minor and take it back from Rome. In this major invasion, Antigonus promised a large gift of gold to Pacorus and promised to give him the wives of his enemies if they would place him on the throne of Judaea. Pacorus, in his gullibility, invaded Judaea and set Antigonus on the throne. Phasael was treacherously slain during peace negotiations with Antigonus, but Herod managed to place his family in the safety of the fortress on Masada before escaping to Rome. In Jerusalem, Antigonus mutilated his uncle Hyrcanus by cutting off his ears, rendering him unfit to be high priest, since the Torah prohibits any blemish to the man serving as high priest. The Parthians took Hyrcanus away as a prisoner after Antigonus was installed as king and high priest.90


Antigonus (40–37) enjoyed a glorious reign of 3 years. In good Hasmonean fashion, he minted coins inscribed in Greek on the reverse “King Antigonus” and in Hebrew on the obverse “Mattathias the High Priest.” Because Antigonus was irrelevant to history, Josephus tells us little about his brief reign. Meanwhile, the Roman senate appointed Herod king of Judaea on the nomination of Antony, with the approval of Octavian. Herod was left to assume his appointment by force of arms, the task of which he was eager to attain. While the Romans and Parthians clashed in Asia Minor, Herod landed at Ptolemais in the spring of 39. He was able to regain control of much of Galilee and rescue his family from Masada, but he did not receive the needed help from the Roman governor Sosius and so delayed his attack on Jerusalem. While he waited, he consummated a second marriage to Miriamme, the Hasmonean granddaughter of Hyrcanus, as part of his bid for royal legitimacy. King Pacorus died in 38, and his successor Phraates IV wisely withdrew Parthian hegemony to its side of the Euphrates. The following year Roman military help finally arrived, and Herod laid siege to Jerusalem. During the siege, two leading Pharisees, Pollion and his disciple Samaias, who may be Abtalion and Shemaiah of rabbinic tradition, urged the city to admit Herod, and although they were not persuasive, they did obtain the favor of Herod when he took Jerusalem.91 After the city fell, Antigonus prostrated himself before the Roman general Sosius, who in turn laughed and clapped him in chains. Herod found that he had to bribe the plundering Romans to leave him a kingdom to be king of, which he did, and Sosius departed. Antigonus remained a captive in Antioch, but Herod feared that he might plead his cause to Rome and bribed Antony to order the execution of Antigonus. Antony apparently thought it a proper move because while Antigonus lived, some Jews would work against Herod in the hopes of returning a Hasmonean to the throne. Sosius beheaded Antigonus and brought an end to the Hasmonean line. Strabo says this was the first time Rome had executed a king in this manner.92

8.3 Rise of Herod The Second Triumvirate of Octavian, Antony, and Lepidus, formed by the senate in 43 as an emergency concentration of power over elections, legislation, and the military, was with difficulty renewed in 37, but as Lepidus was forcibly retired the following year, military power soon settled in the hands of Antony and Octavian, and all of Rome knew it must end in the hands of one, as it had been under Caesar. Antony had married Octavian’s sister Octavia in 40, as part of the Brusindium agreement and a means by which Antony might gain some prestige among the gens. Shortly thereafter, while Octavia was pregnant, Cleopatra gave birth to Antony’s twins, a boy and a girl. At this time, Virgil wrote his ambiguous Fourth Eclogue announcing the birth of a child by whom would come a golden age; its purpose perhaps in anticipation of the “son” of Antony and Octavia, who turned out to be a daughter, or perhaps written in allegory as the dawn of hope for a new age. The influence of Jewish messianic hope, or even a Greek version of Isa 9:6 (“For unto us a child is born”), while not evident, is not impossible, but the Fourth Eclogue


itself would one day serve, like magi from the East, as a Gentile prophecy for the birth of Jesus Christ.93 The 5 years of the renewal of the Second Triumvirate witnessed the gradual alienation of the two men, as military victory shifted from Antony to Octavian. Antony’s invasion of Parthia in 36 resulted in a humiliating defeat and loss of more than 20,000 men during his retreat through Armenia. Thereafter, he deserted Octavia, an affront to Octavian, and sought the wealth and companionship of Cleopatra. That same year, Octavian, through the brilliant leadership of Vipsanius Agrippa, defeated Sextus Pompey, the last holdout against the Caesarians. Although the eastern provinces remained loyal to Antony, he continued to act independently of the Roman senate and in isolation. Once Herod had taken the throne of Judaea, he engaged various opponents, and all this under the shadow of the conflict between Antony and Octavian. Herod’s opponents came from the remaining members of the Hasmoneans, particularly his mother-in-law, Alexandra. But Herod also faced a general unrest among the people, including some Pharisees, other members of the Jewish aristocracy, and externally, the seductress par excellence, Cleopatra. Herod subdued the unrest, in imitation of the proscriptions of the Second Triumvirate, by executing 45 leading men in the Antigonus party and confiscating their property. He stationed guards at the gates of Jerusalem so that none of their wealth could be smuggled out in the coffins.94 He used this wealth to settle debts and to placate other Jews. He attempted to win over the Pharisees, and through them, the hoi polloi who looked to Pharisees for guidance. Among those Pharisees he honored were Pollion and his disciple Samaias, for they had counseled the city to admit Herod as king while he besieged Jerusalem. Herod depended entirely on the good will and patronage of Rome, whose authority in the region presently lay with Mark Antony. Shortly after Herod secured his throne, Antony gave Cleopatra parts of the seacoast of Coele-Syria and Nabataea, and Herod could only congratulate her with a smile on his face. Later, Antony gave Cleopatra the magnificent and highly lucrative balsam and date palm groves around Jericho. Again, Herod dared not demur but graciously offered to rent the groves from Cleopatra. Josephus also tells us, with some prurient delight, that when Cleopatra returned from escorting Antony to Syria, she attempted to seduce Herod, hoping then to accuse him before Antony. Josephus assures us that Herod would hardly indulge such folly, but the entire incident is questionable and may be no more than the sort of rumor that clung to the legend of Cleopatra.95 Besides his power base in Judaea, Herod sought to court the Babylonian Jews while not appearing to undermine the Roman power behind his throne. A loyal Babylonian Jewish community would enhance the position of Herod as a broker between the two empires. The true goal of a man with so healthy an ambition as Herod was to extend his influence to all of Syria by means of the numerous Jewish communities and let Rome reward him with new territory. And toward that end, he was remarkably successful. Herod sent an embassy to Parthia, brought back Hyrcanus II from his captivity, and held him in esteem, much to the satisfaction of the Pharisees and other supporters of Hyrcanus. Because the physical mutilation of Hyrcanus prevented him from holding the office of high priest (Antigonus had


cut off his ear), Herod appointed an unknown Babylonian Jew, Hananel, perhaps a Zadokite, as high priest. This may have been another bid to gain support among the Jewish community of Babylon, but also to remove the contention over the office among the Jewish factions in Judaea. Whatever his reason, the move was rejected by his mother-in-law Alexandra and all supporters of the Hasmoneans. After all, a legitimate nominee was available in Aristobulus III, Miriamme’s brother. The following year, 35, Herod appointed Aristobulus III, age 17, as the high priest. A Hasmonean high priest, however, proved more dangerous to Herod’s control of power than beneficial, and after Sukkot, Herod invited Aristobulus to his palace at Jericho and had him drowned. The guise for the murder was to have young companions playfully dunking Aristobulus in the pool, then holding him down until he drowned. Herod publically wept bitter tears at the unfortunate accident and convinced no one, least of all Alexandra. The dame of the Hasmonean dynasty found common cause with Cleopatra, who coveted all Herod’s kingdom as part of her rightful Ptolemaic realm, and they conspired to have Herod summoned before Antony over the death of Aristobulus. While Antony paused in Laodicea (coast of Syria), on his way to campaign in Armenia, Herod appeared before him, uncertain of the outcome but with gifts and good arguments of realpolitik. Herod no doubt had begun to see that Antony was under the spell of Cleopatra and would do what he must to placate her desires but not to the sacrifice of his power. Antony released Herod. Herod was himself under the spell of a woman, the beautiful Hasmonean princess Miriamme, and the temper of Herod’s reign soon became apparent. Before he departed to meet with Antony, he entrusted Miriamme into the care of his sister Salome’s husband, Joseph, with orders that if he did not return, Joseph should kill Miriamme, for he could not bear the thought that she might become the wife of another. Upon his return, his sister Salome accused her own husband of having an affair with Miriamme. Herod dismissed the slander, but when he learned that Joseph had admitted the plan to Miriamme, which Joseph claimed to have done to demonstrate Herod’s love for her, Herod flew into one of his rages, believed the accusation of infidelity, and executed Joseph without a legal inquiry.96 Antony annexed Armenia in 34 and then held a victory parade in Alexandria as the new Dionysus. He began dispensing various territories to Cleopatra’s children and declared the youth Caesarion to be Julius Caesar’s son, hinting at a royal dynasty. Together Antony and Cleopatra appeared to be building a new Greco-Roman empire, a rival to Rome. Octavian used all these affronts to Rome to alienate Antony further and fan the flames of anti-Egyptian fervor in Italy. When the Triumvirate expired in 32, it was not renewed. Octavian required an oath of allegiance to himself as military leader from the cities of Italy. Antony divorced Octavia, forcing Rome to acknowledge his marriage to Cleopatra. Octavian responded by obtaining from the senate the annulment of Antony’s powers, and he then forcibly removed Antony’s will from its custody with the Vestal Virgins and published damaging portions. With public sentiment behind him, Octavian was elected consul and in September of 32 declared war on Cleopatra, and by extension, on her consort. Herod rallied to the side of his patron and offered troops to Antony, but Cleopatra intervened and persuaded Antony to order Herod to make war on Malichus,


king of Nabataea. According to Josephus, Cleopatra foolishly thought to destroy one of those kings by the other and expand her territory in Coele-Syria, for if Herod defeated the Nabataeans, she might become mistress of Arabia, or, if Herod lost, she might gain Judaea. While the forces of Octavian and Antony skirmished in Greece, Herod campaigned against Nabataea. Herod met with some success, but Cleopatra sent one of her generals to aid Malichus, and Herod suffered a serious defeat in early 31. Just then, a great earthquake ravaged Judaea such as the land had never known. Estimates of the dead ranged between 10,000 and 30,000, with many more livestock in the rubble.97 While the Jews buried their fallen, all seemed lost to Herod, and a lesser man might have fled. But in this tragedy, he found an advantage, the element of surprise, and rallying his troops around him he dealt a severe blow to Malichus, who anticipated, no doubt, an easy victory. Herod had fulfilled his duty to Antony but suddenly found himself on the losing side of the Roman war. After a year of skirmishes, the forces of Antony and Octavian met in the naval battle of Actium off the western coast of Greece. Vipsanius Agrippa again demonstrated his naval prowess, and the ships of Antony were blockaded and defeated on September 2, 31. Antony managed to escape his command ship by rowboat and reach the waiting vessel of Cleopatra, on which they fled to Egypt. With his patron defeated, Herod shifted his loyalty and prepared himself for the difficult transition. The enemies of Herod in Judaea anticipated his downfall, the just punishment for having chosen the wrong side, and many conspired to bring it about. Herod, however, was not easily brought low. He executed the aged Hyrcanus, possibly on a genuine charge of treason, but in any case, to remove the last legitimate rival to his throne. He also got an early chance to demonstrate his new loyalty. A troop of gladiators in Cyzicus training for Antony’s victory games attempted to join Antony in Egypt and come to his aid, but the governor of Syria would not let them pass, and Herod took the opportunity to send troops to help contain them.98 Octavian spent some months stabilizing the east before he advanced on Egypt. Herod found Octavian in Rhodes, and given an audience, he boldly extolled his loyalty to Antony, but only to remind his new lord that the fealty of Herod was true, and now transferred to Octavian, he would be a trustworthy vassal. Moreover, he had not fought against Octavian—a gift of Cleopatra. It must have been Herod’s finest moment when he laid his sword at the feet of his conqueror and received not only absolution but friendship too. With his kingship restored, Herod returned to Judaea. Soon after, as Octavian marched along the Phoenician coast toward Egypt, Herod met him at Ptolemais, spent lavishly on his retinue, and saw that his men lacked neither water nor wine on their march to Egypt. A parting gift of 800 talents confirmed Herod’s devotion to Octavian.99 Cleopatra’s forces put up a brief attempt at resistance to Octavian, but Antony, knowing he had lost everything, committed suicide. And Cleopatra, as she refused to be paraded in chains in Octavian’s triumph, had an asp smuggled to her in a basket of figs, and pressing it to her breast, she died and became immortal. Octavian, at least, granted her last request and buried her alongside Antony in a single sepulcher.100 While Octavian remained in Egypt preparing the land to become a Roman province, Herod went to pay his respects and to request that Octavian undo what


Antony, at Cleopatra’s urging, had done to him. Octavian responded favorably. He gave Herod all the lands Cleopatra had taken from him, added more territories including Samaria, coastal cities, and gave him Cleopatra’s bodyguard of 400 Gauls. Herod returned to Judaea more powerful and secure than before. Toward the end of the year, when Octavian left Egypt, Herod accompanied him through Phoenicia and Syria as far as Antioch, a lengthy demonstration of his new status as friend of Rome. If Herod had made a friend of Octavian, he kept few among his subjects and even fewer in his own household. During his travels he had again become suspicious of his favorite wife, Miriamme, whom he loved passionately, though she openly despised him. In the perpetual intrigues of palace life, Herod’s mother and others who took offense at the haughtiness of the Hasmoneans convinced Herod that Miriamme had been unfaithful and had tried to poison him. Though all of it was probably false, Herod could not abide the thought of Miriamme’s unfaithfulness, and in a fit of rage, he executed her. The blood was spillled and could not be unspilled, but the grief of his rash action drove him into a deep depression. More executions followed, including Miriamme’s mother Alexandra, and two distant Hasmonean offspring, the sons of Babas, whom Herod had long sought, and Costobar, the man who hid them. All that remained of the Hasmoneans were Herod’s own two sons by Miramme, Alexander and Aristobulus, who joined the previous ranks of Alexanders and Aristobuluses. The Roman Republic was dead, even though the senate and res publica were soon restored in name. Octavian reduced the legions from 60 to 29 and settled many veterans in newly established colonies. Rome gave him a three-day triumph in the summer of 29. The doors to the temple of Janus, kept open during time of war, were closed. The provinces were divided into senatorial and imperial provinces, the former requiring few troops and governed by an appointment of the senatorial class, the latter requiring many troops, governed by a legate who answered to Augustus. Egypt and Syria were imperial provinces, and between them lay several small vassal kingdoms, including Judaea. In 27 Octavian gave up many of his powers, although he kept command of the legions, and chose the title of Augustus, which the senate happily voted on him. Virgil’s Golden Age had arrived, the Pax Augusta, and Herod meant to reap its bounty and leave his mark.

Chapter 9

Pax Augusta and Herod the Great (27 b.c.e.–14 c.e.)

9.1 Mediterranean World: Pax Augusta The Augustan peace was not without its wars. Augustus spent his early years (26–25) subduing northwest Spain, to bring the last remnants of the peninsula under his control. In 20 Augustus settled accounts with the Parthians, who had gloated over their defeats of Crassus and Mark Antony and kept the military standards and Roman prisoners. King Phraates IV seems to have known he was no longer dealing with mere generals and triumvirs but a true emperor. Phraates returned the standards and the prisoners to Augustus in exchange for a beautiful slave girl with whom he had fallen in love. The Parthian king also sent his four sons to Rome to be educated in Latin ways. Augustus reserved his most intensive campaigns in Macedonia, the interior of the Balkans up to the Danube, which he secured in 9 c.e. Three new military provinces were created: Illyricum, Pannonia, and Moesia. War along the Rhine continued intermittently and became his greatest loss. The golden age of Augustus is undoubtedly more lustrous through the hazy lens of history than it appeared at the time, but the widespread peace around the Mediterranean Sea, or the Mare Nostrum (“our sea”), as Romans were wont to call it, did allow for an era of exceptional growth. It began with the wealth Augustus brought to Rome from Egypt, which caused interest rates to plunge from 12 to 4 percent, and the value of real estate inflated accordingly. Augustus undertook a massive refurbishing of the city of Rome. He built a new forum and temples to Mars and Jupiter and to Apollo in the Palatine. Augustus restored most of the decaying edifices of other buildings, so that he justly quipped that “where he found Rome built of brick, he left it all of marble.”101 His friend and prominent general, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, contributed the Pantheon with its great dome, Corinthian columns, and bronze double doors. Across the empire, other patrons employed architects and builders to erect suitable monuments to the new age, not the least of which was Herod, king of Judaea.

9.2 Herod: Expansion and Grandeur Herod began his building program with a theater and gymnasium in Jerusalem and an amphitheater for athletic contests, including gladiators, outside the city


walls. He instituted athletic games every fifth year in honor of Caesar Augustus, thereby demonstrating that he was a true vassal king of the Roman Empire. By such building enterprises, says Josephus, Herod offended many, “departing from the native customs, and through foreign practices he gradually corrupted the ancient way of life.”102 This common lament found throughout history, that the old ways are being corrupted, was not shared by all, for the Jews remained divided on how offensive Hellenistic culture ought to be. Some Jews of Judaea, like many Jews in the Diaspora, joined in the games and artistic competitions, and Gentiles of Palestine enthusiastically supported the culture. The one line that most Jews would not permit Herod, or anyone, to cross was that of idolatry and any art that smacked of it within the walls of Jerusalem. Herod was careful not to cross the line, as the “trophies incident” proved. In the Jerusalem theater, Herod placed tributary inscriptions of Caesar’s military victories, with trophies in pure gold and silver of the nations he had won in war. The entire enterprise offended traditional custom, and while the Gentiles stood amazed at the decorations, the Jews, or at least a majority led by the Pharisees, found them idolatrous because the images were of the sort that Gentiles worshiped. In short, the traditionalists said that while they might endure a great many minor conflicts with tradition, they would not endure the existence of images of worship in Jerusalem. Herod invited their leaders to come and give their verdict. They came and with one voice cried out “images of men,” therefore idolatrous. Herod did not quibble but had the offensive images removed. The peoiple rewarded Herod with a running joke that his ornaments were empty boxes.103 Herod then launched ambitious building projects within his own domain and in numerous cities of the empire. In this, he joined the empire-wide competition to erect temples, or even cities, in honor of Augustus Caesar. The annual revenue Herod received from his kingdom amounted to some 1050 talents, drawn from a taxation system already in place under Rome, which taxed agricultural produce, commerce, and transportation customs.104 Herod also inherited vast tracts of the most fertile lands with a substantial income from his father and the Hasmonean dynasty. These he supplemented by confiscation of the estates of his enemies, and after Augustus restored the balsam groves of Jericho and En Gedi that he had rented from Cleopatra at 200 talents a year, he added this considerable income to his coffers, along with other sources of revenue at various points in his reign, such as the Augustan gift in 24 of half the revenue of the copper mines of Cyprus.105 There is no evidence that Herod or the Jews paid tribute to Rome. His domains served as a buffer kingdom against Parthia, and leaving it in the control of a local king was deemed the best for the desired stability. Herod was a rex socius et amicus populi Romani, and it was his genius, both inherited and learned, that he knew how to maneuver within the Roman Empire. The city of Samaria was rebuilt and named Sebaste (Augustus in Greek). Its centerpiece was a temple to Augustus. When Sebaste was completed in 23/22, Herod sent his two sons by Miriamme, Alexander and Aristobulus, to Rome for their education and presentation to Caesar Augustus, who then granted Herod authority to choose whichever he willed as successor. Augustus at this time expanded Herod’s kingdom with the districts of Trachonitis, Batanaea, and Auranitis.106

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Herod’s most ambitious project and enduring monument was the magnificent port city named Caesarea Maritima, in honor of his patron. He chose the existing site of the old Phoenician harbor town of Strato’s Tower, so named for the lighthouse tower built in the fourth century by Strato, king of Sidon. In 22 Herod laid the foundation of a new city along the standard plan of a Roman provincial capital, with parallel streets running along a north-south and east-west grid. A semicircular wall surrounded the city on the east while the west edge lay open to the sea and its vast harbor. Herod used the best engineering techniques of his day to extend two moles of huge granite blocks into the sea, a shorter 250 foot wall from the north, and a longer 600 foot wall from the south that curved north, forming a protected harbor. Ships entered by a 60-foot passage to the northwest, with each side flanked by towers. The public buildings were of marble and included palaces, storehouses, a 4000-seat theater, and amphitheater. Caesarea had a hippodrome, but this may have been built only later in the second century c.e. The centerpiece of the city was a temple to Augustus, set upon an artificial mound and visible far out to sea. Two aqueducts brought water from the north, while the city also contained extensive subterranean sewer passages that were flushed by the sea. Herod populated his masterpiece with 6000 Gentile citizens who might appreciate its grandeur. When Herod dedicated the city 12 years later as the gateway to his kingdom, it rivaled Piraeus, the port city of Athens, as a major trade center of the Mediterranean Sea. The largesse of Herod extended to other parts of the Roman Empire. To Rhodes, where his kingdom had been restored by Octavian and where he had received help from friends when he fled from Antigonus, Herod often gave money for ship building, and when their Pythian temple (dedicated to Apollo) burned down, he rebuilt it on a grander scale at his own expense. He provided gymnasia for several cities, Tripolis, Damascus and Ptolemais, and public baths for Ascalon, aqueducts for Laodicea on the Sea, and gardens, fountains, and other gifts for cities such as Athens, Nicopolis, and Pergamum. There was a street in Antioch, Josephus tells us, that people shunned because of its muddiness, and Herod paved it with marble to the distance of 20 furlongs, over 2 Roman miles. Later, Tiberius would shelter the avenue with a roofed colonnade.107 All the cities, especially Antioch, had Jewish communities, and Herod likely hoped to enhance his reputation among the vast Diaspora, as well as contribute to their welfare, but he seems to have done so only in way that expressed his devotion to Hellenism and the empire, for we have no record of his contributing to synagogues or the Jewish communities directly. He did, however, exploit his place in the patronage pyramid to help Diaspora Jews. While Herod and Agrippa toured Asia Minor in 14, the large Jewish community of Ionia appealed to Agrippa for redress on several injustices done to them by their Greek neighbors. Herod lent them his master diplomat, Nicolaus of Damascus, to make their appeal, and Agrippa responded favorably, “because of Herod’s goodwill and friendship for him,” and, of course, the justice of their cause.108 His foremost goal was to be recognized as a true member of the philhellene ruling class, and this is best attested in his love of athletic contests, which experienced a revival under Augustus. Herod instituted quadrennial games in Caesarea and Jerusalem. He endowed the Olympic Games and served as its president for 1 year.

Pax Augusta and Herod the Great 147

Herod’s contribution to the empire did not go unnoticed or unrewarded. Augustus expanded Herod’s dominion in stages. Within his realm Herod founded or refurnished other cities. At the southern edge of the Plain of Sharon, he built a city named for his father, Antipatris, and in the Jordan valley, north of Jericho, another city named for his brother Phasaelis. He rebuilt the ancient city of Anthedon on the sea below Ascalon and named it Agrippium in honor of Agrippa. Ever wary of insurrections, Herod refurbished a number of fortresses: the Hasmonean fortresses of Alexandrium in eastern Samaria, the Hyrcania in the Judaean desert, and Machaerus on the far side of the Dead Sea, which according to Pliny the Elder was the most important fortification after Jerusalem, and according to Josephus was the site of John the Baptist’s imprisonment and execution.109 Herod built a fortress named for his mother, Cypros, just south of Jericho, and two fortresses called Herodion in his own honor, one south of Jerusalem, the other on the edge of Arabia. The most famous of the Hasmonean fortresses rebuilt by Herod was Masada, in the southern Judaean desert, with its panoramic view of the Dead Sea. Herod had placed his family in Masada for safety when he fled Antigonus in 40. The chief weakness of Masada was its lack of water storage, a deficiency Herod repaired by carving out twelve large cisterns in the cliffs that could be fed by the occasional flash floods from the north wadi. Herod embellished the fortress with two palaces and a bathhouse with a frigidarium that served as a ritual immersion pool. Augustus visited Syria in 20, and Herod went to pay his respects. Augustus rewarded Herod’s ability to govern by placing the territories of northern Galilee (Panias) under his care and at the same time instructing the governors in Syria to consult Herod in all their decisions. Herod had reached the height of his impressive rise to power and prestige. Josephus passes along a saying to the effect that Caesar esteemed Herod most, after Agrippa, and Agrippa esteemed Herod most, after Caesar.110 Herod requested a tetrarchy for his brother Pheroras and was granted the long tract of territory on the east bank of the Jordan and Lake Asphaltitus (Dead Sea) called Peraea. Herod returned to his expanded kingdom and commissioned the building of a beautiful white temple to Augustus at Panias, where a nearby spring gave source to the Jordan River.111 The city would later pass to Herod’s son Phillip and be refurbished and renamed Caesarea Phillipi. At this time Herod made an attempt to stabilize his rule and thereby demonstrate that the confidence of Augustus and Agrippa was not misplaced. Chiefly he sought to regain the trust of those who felt he had abandoned his loyalty to Jewish customs and their ancient way of life. He employed a carrot-and-stick approach. He began by remitting a third of their taxes, to show his benevolence, and then demanded an oath of loyalty from all his subjects. Among the Gentiles, and perhaps even the Idumaeans, of his kingdom, the nascent emperor cult was a sufficient means for demonstrating loyalty to Rome, but among the Jews, different means were required. The majority complied, but neither the Essenes nor the Pharisees would make the oath. Some claimed the oath infringed on loyalty to God, but such oaths of loyalty to king and emperor had always been made, from Nebuchadrezzar, through Darius, to Alexander and the Diadochi, and a suitable expression of loyalty


was expected and received of all Jews in the empire. The Essenes and Pharisees may have objected to using the name of God in an oath. Whatever their reasons, it was a battle Herod wished to avoid, and he exempted both Jewish associations.112 Herod’s third approach at courting his Jewish subjects was also his most famous building project, the temple and temple mount. He brought the leaders of his Jewish subjects together and announced his plan. The speech was either recorded and available to Josephus or invented by him. The justification for his project, Herod said, was that the temple built by Zerubbabel after the exile was only the half of what Solomon had initially built, and now that God had given the kingdom to him, and protected him, and brought peace, it was his humble privilege to restore the temple to its Solomonic greatness and in this way compensate the Jews for the fact that he had brought them under the rule of Rome.113 The applause, we are led to believe, was not deafening. The leaders were torn between incredulity that Herod would undertake such a great project and fear that he would tear down the existing temple, and having started the new one, for lack of funds never finish it. Herod set aside their fears by promising to make all the preparations of materials, workmen, and transportation before the building began. This included the stones quarried and shaped, 1000 wagons, 10,000 workers, and 1000 priests trained in masonry and carpentry to work in the sacred area where none but priests might go. The main challenge for Herod was to make this temple worthy of his ambition and abilities among the temples of the empire, sufficient to raise Jerusalem from its lowly status among the cities of the empire and to receive the myriads of Jewish pilgrims from the Diaspora, while at the same time limiting the size of the temple to the biblically mandated measurements given for Solomon’s temple. Herod solved the dilemma by setting a beautifully ornate, if small, sanctuary onto a sufficiently massive and grand esplanade to rival any temple on earth. Solomon, for all his glory, was not Herod. Once the building of the new temple began, it was completed in 18 months, while the temple mount required an additional 8 years.114 It was acclaimed as a restoration of Solomon’s temple but was in fact a new and slightly larger structure. The returning exiles under Zerubbabel essentially erected their temple on the rebuilt Solomonic platform of 500 cubits square.115 The Hasmoneans had extended the platform to the south, building over the hated Akra fortress built by the Seleucids in 186. Herod extended the mount on three sides, south, west, and north. Only the eastern wall remained along the lines of Solomon’s temple mount. Because the new retainer wall went further down into the southeastern valley, when built to the level of the temple plateau, it rose about 130 feet, and in order to contain the vast amount of fill, the wall was about 16 feet thick and resting on exceptionally large foundation stones, 45 feet in length and weighing 120 tons, and in one case approaching 600 tons. Most of the stones, however, were between 5 to 14 feet long and 3 to 6 feet high.116 Stone blocks for the walls, called ashlars, were quarried from the limestone hills near Jerusalem and were easily transported to the site. Stonecutters first fashioned a long step in the side of the hill, smooth on top and the outer side and at one end. Then they fashioned the ashlars by cutting channels on the back side for width and the other end for length. They packed dry wood beams


into the channels, poured water over the beams, and the wood eventually swelled with sufficient pressure to break the block from its floor. Masons chiseled the rough ashlars to their required dimensions, leaving two stone projections, one on either side, by which each block would be lifted by ropes and pulleys and placed on rolling logs. Oxen drew the ashlars over the logs to the construction site, where they were maneuvered into place. After every new layer of stone was laid, the hillside was filled with earth to the level of the wall, and the next layer begun. The stones were cut to such precision that mortar was unnecessary.117 Herod doubled the area of the temple mount from the Hasmonean dimensions to about 35 acres, roughly 1600 feet on the west side, 1000 to the north, 1500 to the east, 900 to the south, forming a slightly skewed rectangle, and within the Mediterranean world, Egypt alone could boast of larger temple esplanades.118 The perimeter of the temple mount was surrounded by a portico or stoa comprised of pillars in the inside facing the temple but enclosed by a wall on the exterior. Along the central section of the eastern side was an older stoa, built perhaps by the Hasmoneans but called Solomon’s Portico.119 On the southern side, however, Herod built the Royal Stoa, a basilica, the largest structure on the temple mount; indeed, the largest basilica in the ancient world. In the words of Josephus, “It was a structure more noteworthy than any under the sun.”120 It spanned 600 feet of the length of the southern edge of the temple mount and comprised four rows of Corinthian pillars forming three aisles, the typical Roman basilica. The two side aisles were 30 (Greco-Roman) feet wide, and the central aisle was 45 feet wide. The pillars, including base and capital, were 50 feet high, each with a girth requiring three men, arms outstretched, to surround. The middle aisle had a second course of pillars set upon an architrave that rose up another 50 feet and supported a ceiling of carved wood figures. It was to the basilica that all the world might come and stand in awe. By comparison, the dimensions of the Attalos stoa in Athens were 382 feet long, 41 feet wide, 39 feet high, and two aisles, while the Royal Stoa of Herod was 600 feet long, 108 feet wide, 105 feet high, and three aisles.121 Anyone who climbed to the roof of the basilica and looked down the entire distance of the southeastern wall into the valley, says Josephus, “would become dizzy and his vision would be unable to reach the end of so measureless a depth.” Aside from pilgrims and tourists, the Royal Stoa provided the epicenter of Herod’s Greco-Roman Jerusalem: a forum with few rivals, where men could exchange ideas, philosophize, deliberate, dispute, and on occasion, riot. The temple mount welcomed all humanity into its porticoes and open esplanade, but not anyone could go anywhere. The area was delimited into more elevated and more restricted courts of sacred space. The first, or outer court, known as the Court of the Gentiles, included all of the perimeter porticoes and the Royal Stoa. The temple complex was sequestered within the outer court by a carved stone balustrade through which only Jews, including proselytes, might enter. The entrances through the chest-high barrier posted warnings in Latin and Greek: “No foreigner is to enter within the forecourt and the balustrade around the sanctuary. Whoever is caught will have himself to blame for his death which follows.”122 The restriction of Gentiles was probably based on their association with idolatry, not some Gentile impurity per se.


Beyond the balustrade, a Jewish worshiper would mount fourteen steps to a higher pavement of elevated sanctity, the second, or middle, court, and proceed across a terrace to another raised platform of five steps on which stood a high wall surrounding the inner courts and the temple sanctuary. The eastern end of the sanctuary was a separate area called the Court of Women, so named because this was where women did most of their cultic and purity rituals, although on certain occasions when they offered sacrifices, such as after childbirth, they may have entered the next court, called the Court of the Israelites.123 The Court of Women was designated for most nonsacrificial rituals, in which men were also present. The origins of a Court of Women are not clear, and unknown prior to Herod’s temple, but if the concept and sacred space preceded Herod’s time, it might have originated with Queen Salome.124 Men probably entered the temple complex through the eastern gate to the Court of Women, passed through the court and came to the next elevation of the Temple Court, which was approached by fifteen broad and shallow semicircular steps. Within the temple area Jewish men were restricted to the Court of the Israelites, a narrow perimeter surrounding the Court of the Priests, according to Josephus, or a single rectangular court, 135 by 11 cubits (ca. 197 x 7 ft) at the east entrance to the sanctuary, according to the Mishnah. Beyond this, and elevated another cubit’s height, lay the Court of the Priests, where stood the great altar and where priests went barefoot on holy ground in performance of their sacred duties. But even the Court of Priests was opened to the people during the Feast of Tabernacles when they marched in procession around the altar waving their palm branches.125 The Court of Priests was largely filled on the south (left of the entrance) by the altar, 30 cubits square and 15 cubits high, but the Mishnah dimensions do not include the horns of the altar (the upraised corners). The altar was mounted on the south side by a ramp of 30 by 16 cubits, on which salt was spread to prevent slipping.126 To the north side stood pillars with hooks where the sacrificial animals were flayed and portions dedicated. In popular parlance, the sanctuary was shaped like a lion, broad in the front, narrow in the back, recalling the verse “Ho, Ariel, Ariel, the city where David encamped.”127 The front, or façade, measured 100 cubits square, and 20 cubits deep, which comprised the porch (portico). Behind it lay the sanctuary proper, a chamber 100 cubits long, 70 wide, and 100 high, which was divided into the Holy and the Adytum, called Holy of Holies, or the Debir (“hind part”). Above the open entrance to the porch, Herod made the controversial move of placing a golden eagle. On the one hand, it was the symbol of Roman authority that encroached on the authority of God. On the other hand, it symbolized Roman involvement in the daily sacrifices that were performed on behalf of the emperor, as an act of obeisance to the god of the Jews, and a reciprocal act of loyalty to Rome by the Jews as they prayed for the welfare of the empire. The main chamber of the sanctuary contained the Table of Showbread (the bread of Presence, lehem panim), the menorah, a seven-branch candelabrum, and the Altar of Incense, all overlaid with gold.128 The Altar of Incense stood in front of the curtains shielding the Holy of Holies; the Table of Showbread stood on the


right (north) and the Menorah on the left (south). There, a priest might enter once in his life to burn incense on the golden altar of incense or place the twelve loaves of bread on the golden table or trim the wicks of the golden menorah. The height of the menorah, according a later Talmudic tradition, was 18 handbreadths or about 5 feet, and judging from the picture of the soldiers carrying it on the Titus Arch, this seems about right.129 A stone with three steps carved into it lay at the base of the menorah, on which a priest would mount to trim the wick and pour the oil. Beyond the double veil, into the Holy of Holies, only the high priest entered, and only once a year, on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. The Holy of Holies had once sheltered the Ark of the Covenant, but in the postexilic temple and again in Herod’s, the chamber lay empty. All that remained from the time of the first temple was a stone called Shetiyah (“foundation”).130 The stone was either a slab about three fingerbreadths high, or some argue it was the outcrop of bedrock, today still seen in the Dome of the Rock. On this stone, the high priest would place the incense fire pan, and there he would sprinkle the blood on Yom Kippur. The apocryphal legend that when the high priest entered the Holy of Holies on the Day of Atonement, a rope was tied to his ankle so that if he died in the presence of God, priests could pull him out, may be traced to the fourteenth-century Kabbalistic work, the Zohar. As with many elements in the Zohar, it is not clear whether the reputed author, Moses de Leon, drew on earlier tradition or fabricated the idea, but no mention of it appears in Josephus, himself a priest, or any Jewish literature up through the rabbinic era.131

9.3 Babylonians Zamaris and Hillel Two men immigrated to Palestine from Babylonia during the reign of Herod, reminding us of the Jewish communities in Mesopotamia. Zamaris, the wealthy head of a clan, came accompanied by a military escort of 500 horsemen, mounted archers trained in Parthian military tactics. This otherwise unknown Jew seems to have born a high rank in the Parthian feudal system or was perhaps a desert sheik. Zamaris and his people were given land in Syria near Antioch by Saturninus, the governor of Syria (9–6). When Herod learned of them, he invited Zamaris to dwell in the toparchy called Batanaea, the newly bequeathed northeastern lands added to Herod bordering Trachonitis. The Jews were to defend the land and live in it tax–free. Zamaris built a fortress and village, which he named Bathyra, and this became a guarded wayside point for Babylonian Jews coming up to Jerusalem for the feasts. Once established, Jews migrated to the territory from all around, and this enhanced Herod’s prestige in the eyes of Babylonian Jews as well as his reputation with Augustus Caesar.132 A second Jew from Babylonia, known simply as Hillel, came already educated in the Torah of Moses and acquainted with some oral traditions of the Pharisees.133 Hillel rose to fame by offering a solution to the question of whether the Passover requirements override the sabbath prohibitions against work.134 There is scant information on his life before he arrived in Judaea, but his education suggests there


were Torah schools among the Babylonian Jews, and some exchange of thought with the Pharisees in Judaea is entirely plausible. Rabbinic tradition sings his praises by many legends, but they are of meager historical value. It may be said, however, that his guiding hand probably helped the Pharisees negotiate the rule of Herod and withdraw from their former political activism under the Hasmoneans.

9.4 Herod’s Finale The kingdom of Herod included Jews, Samaritans, Jewish Idumaeans, and a variety of Greco-Roman humanity. He chose wives from among his subjects according to the requirements of his rule. His first wife, Doris, was Idumaean, and by her came his eldest son, Antipater III. Miriamme, the Hasmonean, gave Herod some legitimacy from the old royal family, and by her issued two sons, Alexander and Aristobulus. A third wife, also named Miriamme of Alexandria, daughter of Simon the high priest, gave him one son, Herod Philip. A Samaritan wife, Malthace, bore him Archelaus and Herod Antipas and a daughter, Olympias. A fifth wife, Cleopatra of Jerusalem, bore one son, Philip. Josephus mentions three other wives of Herod named Pallas, Phaedra, and Elpis, and two unnamed wives.135 His domestic kingdom with multiple wives and potential heirs was artfully designed for strife in his old age. The sons of Miriamme could not hide the disdain inherited from their mother for their commoner father, nor did they forgive Herod for her death, nor could they wait patiently for him to die. When Herod brought Alexander and Aristobulus back from Rome around 18/17 after 6 years of Roman education, their royal airs gave a fresh infusion of discord into a house already dominated by strife and intrigue. In 13 Herod balanced their aspirations by presenting Antipater III to Augustus in Rome. When Antipater returned the following year, the political intrigue and conspiracies multiplied. The alienation between Herod and his Hasmonean sons intensified, and despite several attempts at reconciliation with them, including the good offices of Augustus himself, Herod finally received permission from Augustus to put Alexander and Aristobulus on trial subject to the judgment of a council of Roman officials in the year 7. The council condemned the two heirs, and they were executed by strangulation in Sebaste. Antipater then became the leading candidate for succession, and Herod made out his will so nominating Antipater. The final 2 years of Herod’s life were marked by additional conspiracy, the changing of his will, and illness that took a variety of forms. Antipater seems to have grown impatient at his father’s longevity and schemed too much with others both in Judaea and in Rome, including Pheroras, Herod’s brother and tetrarch of Peraea, so that he aroused the suspicion of Herod. When Pheroras died of poison, whether guilty or not, Antipater was accused of attempting to poison Herod. The king imprisoned him and sought permission from Augustus to proceed with a trial and execution if guilty. Herod then made a second will nominating Herod Antipas his successor. Toward the end of 5, Herod fell into a fatal illness. The land came alive with anticipation of his death, and it was generally agreed divine justice was finally falling on Herod. Two doctors of the law in Jerusalem, presumably Pharisees, encourage


their disciples to avenge God’s honor and remove the golden eagle from the temple. In broad daylight, the two youths let themselves down by ropes from the temple roof and hacked down the eagle before the guards could prevent them. When Herod learned of the insult, he summoned sufficient strength from his rage to bring the young fanatics and 40 of their companions to trial. The youths and their masters he had burned alive; the others he simply executed. The disease in Herod’s body left his skin itching, tumors on his feet, trouble breathing, worms, and gangrene in his privy parts. He spent time in the baths of Callirrhoe near Lake Asphaltitis (Dead Sea) seeking relief but finding none. In his splenetic condition, and as a final act of despotism, he summoned the leading nobles of his kingdom and had them imprisoned in the hippodrome at Jericho. He instructed his sister Salome that upon his death, but before it was publicized, she should have his soldiers slaughter all the nobles so that the land would be in genuine mourning when they learned of his death. She promised to do so. Finally a letter came from Augustus with permission to execute Antipater, which revived the spirits of Herod. He altered his will once again, nominating Archelaus, the elder son of Malthace, as king, and his brother Antipas tetrarch of Galilee and Peraea, with his son Philip, son of Cleopatra of Jerusalem, tetrarch of the northeastern provinces of Gaulanitis, Trachonitis, Batanaea, and Panias. An eclipse of the moon occurred on 12/13 of March, and soon after Antipater was tried and executed. Five days later, in early April 4 b.c.e., Herod surrendered his breath. Before the news was widely known, his sister Salome released the imprisoned nobility from the hippodrome, and so, as Herod had feared, few mourned his passing. Archelaus gave him, nevertheless, a lavish funeral procession from Jerusalem to his mausoleum in the Herodion. The troops that marched in the procession bespoke the nature of his rule: first came his bodyguards, then the Thracians, Germans, Gauls, followed by the entire army.136 The Jewish memory of Herod the Great offers a mixed review. Josephus praises him and condemns him and calls him “Herod the Great” only when necessary to distinguish the patriarch from the several offspring also called Herod.137 The epithet magnus was picked up by Christian historians but not used by other Jewish sources in antiquity. The son of a Jewish Idumaean father and an Arabian mother, Herod had been keenly aware of his dubious ancestry for legitimacy to the title king of the Jews. Josephus tells us that Herod’s court historian, Nicolaus of Damascus, claimed that Herod’s grandfather, Antipater, “was of the family of the principal Jews who came out of Babylon into Judaea; but that assertion of his was to gratify Herod.”138 Herod was a vassal king and could do nothing without the approval of Rome, usually in the person of Caesar Augustus. Herod was given additional territories to govern because of his abilities to keep the peace, and Josephus records a saying that both Augustus and Agrippa often remarked that “the extent of Herod’s realm was not equal to his magnanimity, for he deserved to be king of all Syria and of Egypt.”139 But Herod was never given leave to mint coins other than the lowest denominations in copper or bronze. Concerning his family life, Augustus, after giving Herod permission to slay his three sons, is said to have quipped, “It were better to be Herod’s swine than his son.”140


9.5 Aftermath of Herod The death of Herod the Great was likely mourned more in the Roman corridors of imperial rule than in the streets of Jerusalem. The final flurry of wills left by Herod presented Augustus and Rome a glimpse at the domestic basket of worms in the royal household of Judaea and the despair Herod must have felt when he realized he had no offspring who could rule his vassal kingdom. The final will came accompanied by a series of delegations and legal consultations. Uncertainty and discontent radiated throughout the kingdom, as it usually did after the death of a long reign by a powerful monarch. Archelaus gave his father the required week of mourning. Then he set up his golden throne in the Royal Stoa on the temple mount and received blessings of the people. At first they praised him, then they presented their requests, and these turned to demands—a release of prisoners and lower taxes. Archelaus attempted to placate them with promises of a better rule and reminded them that he would not be king until confirmed by Augustus, but this only encouraged the more outraged of the population to demand vengeance. When the Passover feast came around a few weeks after Herod’s death, a large group of opposition leaders and those still lamenting the deaths of the youths and scribes who had cut down the golden eagle gathered on the temple mount. They demanded the deposition of the high priest and the punishment of Herod’s cronies. Archelaus feared an open rebellion in Jerusalem and sent a cohort to suppress them. The crowd stoned the soldiers, killing most of them, and then returned to the sacrifices. Archelaus unleashed his army on the Passover pilgrims, killing about 3000. Archelaus ended the Passover feast and sailed for Rome to secure his kingship against the claims of his brother Herod Antipas and others seeking a share in the bequest of Herod. Augustus read the official claims and listened to the appointed orators but delayed his decision. While the family of Herod waited in Rome with their advocates, thousands of Jewish pilgrims who had come up for Shavuot rioted against the Roman presence and set the temple porticoes on fire. Many died in the flames. Then riots broke out all across Judaea and the Galilee in what is best seen as a rural uprising against the Hellenistic cities. Among the leaders of the uprising was Judas, the son of the robber baron Hezekias whom Herod had killed while governor of the Galilee. Judas and his men stormed the royal armory in Sepphoris and began plundering the estates of the wealthy. Other groups with their own royal pretenders sprang into action in Peraea, Idumaea, and the Judaean countryside, capturing arms and booty from the various royal residences. Josephus names two men, Simon, a former slave of Herod, and Athronges, a shepherd, who gathered their men and claimed the title of king. Varus, the legate of Syria, hurried to Judaea, where he systematically suppressed the rebellions and crucified 2000 of the most guilty. Having put an end to the anarchy, Varus also permitted a delegation of 50 Jewish nobility to sail to Rome with its own request on behalf of the Jewish people. The Judaean delegation was joined by more than 8000 Jews living in Rome in their appeal that Augustus abolish Herod’s kingdom and let them live autonomously


under Roman jurisdiction. This was the same request their ancestors had made to Ptolemy during the civil war between the Hasmonean claimants, and their petition effectively requested that Judaea and Galilee be given the status of a Diaspora province in which the Jews lived by their own customs while enjoying the protection of Rome. The Jews of Rome no doubt lent considerable weight to such a request, thinking their own lot better than that of their brethren in Judaea. Augustus convened his council in the temple of Apollo and listened to all sides, including the venerable Nicolaus of Damascus, who appealed on behalf of Archelaus. Despite the many claims and requests, and probably with a good deal of reluctance, since Rome’s sole interest was the stability of the eastern edge of the empire, Augustus implemented the partition of the kingdom of Herod. Herod’s will was followed, except that Archelaus was made not king but ethnarch of Judaea, Samaria, and Idumaea, including the cities of Jerusalem, Caesarea, Sebaste, and Joppa, with the potential to become king when he had proved himself capable. According to the will, Antipas was made tetrarch over Galilee and Peraea, while Philip, also named a tetrarch, was given Gaulanitis, Trachonitis, Batanaea, and Panias. Of the three sons of Herod, Philip ruled best, Antipas ruled longest, and Archelaus ruled as a tyrant, briefly. Philip (4 b.c.e.–34 c.e.) ruled a tetrarchy mostly carved from territory added to Herod’s domain, with an annual revenue of 100 talents. He enlarged and renamed two cities: Panias as the source of the Jordan, which he called Caesarea Philippi (Philip’s Caesarea), and Bethsaida, where the Jordan flows into Lake Gennesaret (Sea of Galilee), which he renamed Julias, honoring the daughter of Augustus. Because the population of his tetrarchy was mostly Syrians and Greeks, with but a few Jews, his coins bore the images of Augustus, Tiberius, and himself.141 He later married the daughter of Herodias, Salome II, but only after she had danced for the head of John the Baptist. Herod Antipas (4 b.c.e–39 c.e.) received a small tetrarchy, but the most fertile, with a revenue of 200 talents. Antipas also refurbished cities and in due course founded one on the southeastern shore of Lake Gennesaret. He rebuilt the gutted Sepphoris in Galilee, making it a provincial capital, and fortified Petharamphtha in Peraea, renaming it Livias in honor of the wife of Augustus. In order to enhance his defense against the Nabataean kingdom of Aretas IV, Antipas married his daughter. Archelaus (4 b.c.e–6 c.e.) was ill-equipped to be even an ethnarch, let alone a king, and his reign lasted but 9 years. Josephus gives him a paragraph in history. He replaced the high priest, and then replaced him as well; lavished time and money on the royal residence at Jericho; founded one city in the Jordan valley highlands between Jericho and Scythopolis, and named it Archelais in his own honor. He caused a scandal when he divorced his wife Miriamme and married a Gentile daughter of the Cappadocian king, Glaphyra. This woman had been the wife of Alexander, the half-brother of Archelaus, until his strangulation by Herod, and then she had been the wife of Juba, king of Mauretania, until the marriage dissolved. Perhaps his greatest accomplishment was making bedfellows of the long-estranged Samaritans and Jews. In the tenth year of his reign, a Judaean and Samaritan delegation


arrived in Rome to appeal for the removal of Archelaus and the installation of direct Roman rule. This time Augustus granted their request. Archelaus was banished to Vienne, in Gaul, in 6 c.e., and Judaea and Samaria were annexed to Syria. Caesarea became the district capital, where a Roman governor of the equestrian order took up residence.

9.6 Roman Rule of Judaea Augustus dispatched Sulpicius Quirinius, the imperial legate of Syria, to Judaea with orders to liquidate the estates of Archelaus and make an assessment of all private property in the new territory. The equestrian Coponius accompanied the legate as the first Roman governor to administer Judaea and Samaria with full authority over life and death. The imperial assessment required a census upon which taxation was based, and although the census was surely anticipated by the delegation who sought to bring Judaea and Samaria into the administration of Rome, it awakened the ire of many Jews. The registration of persons and property by the government of Rome served as a sharp reminder of who their new sovereign was and may have brought to mind the great sin of King David when he numbered Israel without authority from God. The high priest Joazar son of Boethus persuaded the majority of Jews to comply with the census, but yet another Galilean named Judas arose to confront the ruling power. He is called Judas the Gaulanite, that is, from the town of Gamala in the district of Gaulanitis, but he was also known as Judas the Galilean. This Judas may have been the same Judas of Galilee, son of the robber baron Ezekias (Hezekiah) who had royal pretensions and led one of the several insurrections after the death of Herod, but Josephus does not make the identification explicit.142 What Josephus does say about this Judas is that he was the founder of the Fourth Philosophy, distinguished by its refusal to call any man master, reserving that title for God alone. Judas, himself a man learned in Torah, was accompanied by a Pharisee named Zadok, and together they went around the land urging Jews to resist the census because it bore the status of slavery. The extent of the rebellion is unknown. Judas and Zadok were apparently killed, but in the memories of many, they died a martyr’s death, and the offspring of Judas lived to fight in the next generation. Quirinius then deposed Joazar and replaced him by Ananus b. Sethi, who became the first high priest appointed by Rome, and his family remained influential until the Great War.143 The only other event to mar the three-year administration of Coponius was the Samaritan incident. During the Feast of Passover, the temple gates were opened shortly after midnight to allow the many pilgrims access to the white and gold temple, resplendent by moonlight. On this occasion, a small band of Samaritan pilgrims smuggled in bags of human bones and scattered them in the temple porticoes, defiling the temple mount. From that time onward, the temple remained closed until daylight, and the animosity between Judaeans and Samaritans increased. The basic bone of contention between Samaritans and Jews was the age-old, and soon to be irrelevant, dispute over the proper location of the cultic rituals instituted by


Moses. The Samaritans believed it was Mount Gerizim, where Joshua renewed the covenant, while the Jews could point to Jerusalem where God ordained Solomon to build the temple.144 Each generation renewed the battle, usually with annoying but otherwise harmless pranks. On another occasion, according to Samaritan tradition, a Samaritan pretended to bring turtledoves for an offering, but when the priest reached into the pilgrim’s bag, out jumped some frightened mice, and they scampered about the temple courts causing the anticipated chaos amid the sacred precinct.145 Coponius was replaced by Marcus Ambivulus (9–12), and he in turn by Annius Rufus (12–15). During these years, Judaea was at peace, as the Augustan era drew to a close.

9.7 End of the Augustan Age After receiving the grant of proconsular imperium, Augustus had spent much of his time in the provinces, fashioning a true and largely stable empire. His efforts to stabilize the German tribes (Celts) along the Rhine, however, was a failure. Augustus brought in Varus, legate of Syria, to govern the frontier east of the Rhine. At this time, Arminius, leader of the Cherusci tribe and a Roman citizen of the equestrian rank, made a secret alliance with other chieftains. In 9 c.e., Varus was misinformed about the location of an uprising and led his three legions into the Teutoburg Forest, where Arminius and his Germans waited. The Romans never had a chance. They were cut down to a man, and Varus fell on his own sword. When news of the disaster reached Augustus, he is said to have banged his head on the walls, crying, “Varus, Varus, give me back my legions.”146 Like Herod, Augustus found his greatest challenge was to produce an heir. Augustus had been required, under his own law against adultery, to banish his daughter and only child Julia in 2 b.c.e. Within 4 years, his one grandson Lucius died in Spain, and 2 years later (4 c.e.), his second grandson, Gaius, died on a campaign in Lycia, Asia Minor. Without an issue of his own loins, Augustus adopted his stepson Tiberius (from Livia’s first marriage) as his designated heir. Augustus sent Tiberius to recover the territories along the Rhine, and Tiberius succeeded, even capturing the wife of Arminius, though not the chieftain himself. On August 19, the month so named in his honor, in 14 c.e., Augustus Caesar died. All Rome mourned. Looking back, the Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria, himself born during the reign of Augustus, praised the great ruler who in all the virtues transcended human nature, who on account of the vastness of his imperial sovereignty as well as nobility of character was the first to bear the name of the August or Venerable, a title received not through lineal succession as a portion of its heritage but because he himself became the source of the veneration . . . who reclaimed every state to liberty, who led disorder into order. . . . He was also the first and the greatest and the common benefactor in that he displaced the rule of many and committed the ship of the commonwealth to be steered by a single pilot, that is himself, a marvelous master of the science of government.147

Synthesis of Part Two

Religious Development—Foundations II (201 b.c.e.–14 c.e.)

S2.1 Currents of Judaism The two centuries between the end of Ptolemaic control of Palestine and the end of the Augustan era brought forth a host of new Jewish writings that provide our main evidence for the development of Jewish culture and religious beliefs. The literature begun in the previous centuries continued in the broad currents of wisdom and eschatology, or guidance for the present and visions of the future. But we also have a continuation of histories and novellas. A brief look at some of the key texts will give a sense of the diversity of Jewish thought.

S2.1.1 Wisdom S2.1.1.1 Tobit The story of Tobit is a romance set in the seventh century b.c.e., and like the story of Jonah, prior to the destruction of Nineveh in 621. Tobit, the son of Tobiel, of the tribe of Naphtali, whose ancestors were sent into Assyrian exile, dwells in Nineveh. He is a righteous man, but through a series of misfortunes, Tobit becomes blind and prays that God will take his life. Elsewhere, at Ecbatana in Media, the virgin maiden Sarah, daughter of Raguel and Edna, also prays that God will take her life because though she had been betrothed seven times, the evil angel Asmodeus had slain each of her husbands on the night of the wedding. God hears the prayers of both Tobit and Sarah. Tobit, anticipating death, sends his son Tobias to collect a deposit owed him in a distant city. Tobias chances upon another traveler, Azariah, who agrees to guide him, but Tobias does not realize his companion is the archangel Raphael. On his journey, Tobias and Azariah stay at the house of Raguel, who is a distant relative. Azariah suggests to Tobias that he marry the maiden Sarah. Tobias demurs, because he had heard of her misfortunes, but Azariah reveals a way to protect himself and Sarah by burning the liver and heart of a fish they had caught earlier, and the smoke would drive away the demons. Raguel joyfully agrees to the marriage. On the wedding night, Tobias does as instructed and safely consummates his marriage with Sarah. Tobias then completes his journey to retrieve the money owed his father and brings his bride back to Nineveh. Upon his arrival, Tobias

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applies the fish gall to his father’s eyes, and Tobit receives back his sight. When Tobias offers Azariah half of the money he brought back, his companion reveals his true identity, Raphael, sent by God to both test and protect him. At the request of Raphael, Tobias writes the story for encouragement to others and adds a hymn of thanksgiving to God, who will surely guard and protect his faithful people until they are restored to Jerusalem. The story of Tobit employs popular motifs from ancient Near Eastern literature but wraps them in a thick cloak of Jewish wisdom and lore. The book includes the importance of magic from the entrails of a fish but also marks significant advances in the involvement of demons and angels (Asmodeus and Raphael appear for the first time). The central wisdom motif is similar to that of Job, that despite the many testings of life, God will reward righteousness. Wisdom is given though the voice of the parents of Tobias and Sarah, who admonish them to be faithful to the customs of their ancestors and to give to the poor. The Golden Rule appears here, perhaps for the first time in Jewish literature: “What you hate, do not do to anyone” (4:5). Because the tale is set among the Israelite exiles in Assyria, the religion of the Jews centers not around the temple (although Tobit had been to Jerusalem as God required) but around the Diaspora values of family and tradition. It describes the numerous Jews across Asia Minor and Mesopotamia, many of whom, once again, descended from the ten tribes of northern Israel. S2.1.1.2 Ben Sira Jesus ben Eleazar ben Sira, who went by the name of his grandfather, was a sage in Jerusalem. Ben Sira led a small school, and toward the end of his life, around 180, he wrote a compendium of wisdom. The work was later translated into Greek by his grandson, who migrated to Egypt around 132. The book often goes by the Latin Vulgate name, Ecclesiasticus, but is better known as the Wisdom of Ben Sira, or simply Sirach following the Greek. The book was treasured in its original Hebrew and in the Greek. Ben Sira begins, “All wisdom is from the Lord, and with him it remains forever” (Sir 1:1). The book, like Proverbs, is mostly a collection of sayings designed to guide the moral behavior of his students. There are a few wisdom poems and a lengthy passage entitled “Hymn in Honor of Our Ancestors,” which begins with the oft-quoted words, “Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers in their generations” (44:1). He often relies on the book of Proverbs, but in his mouth the wisdom is retold for another generation. He also read Greek literature, and scholars have pointed to parallels with Homer and Theognis, though in the mind of Ben Sira, all wisdom necessarily supports the Jewish way of life. Later, Jews will claim the Greeks borrowed heavily from the Jewish sages of antiquity, especially Moses.148 Ben Sira’s faith centers on the temple ritual and the moral life of age-old wisdom. He may be described as the consummate conservative. “All wisdom is the fear of the Lord, and in all wisdom there is the fulfillment of the law” (19:20). The law requires proper worship of the one true God and social justice among God’s people. He praises the first priest Aaron in great detail, whose turban was topped


with a gold crown, “inscribed like a signet with ‘Holiness’ ”; his grandson Phineas, the third in glory, who received the high priesthood forever; and the high priest of his own memory, Simon II, who was radiant “like the rainbow gleaming in glorious clouds” (50:7). But the temple pageantry is only half the command, and sacrifices without social justice and charity avails little. “He who returns a kindness offers fine flour, and he who gives alms sacrifices a thank offering” (35:2). His theology, such as it may be found, supports the classical Zadokite stance of free will and human responsibility. God cannot be blamed for human sin (15:11). The original sin, in any case, was a woman’s doing. “From a woman sin had its beginning, and because of her we all die” (25:24). Suffering in this life should be seen as discipline or a testing (2:1–5). At death, all go to Hades (Sheol), where there is neither reward nor punishment (14:16–19); it is as if one never existed (17:28). But one may live on in the memory of others; therefore, a good reputation is immortality. “The days of a good life are numbered, but a good name endures for ever” (41:13). S2.1.1.3 Letter of Aristeas A Hellenistic Jew, probably dwelling in Alexandria Egypt, wrote an amazing treatise in the form of a letter to his brother Philocrates that extols Jewish wisdom and recounts the story of how the “books of the law of the Jews” were translated into Greek for the benefit of humankind. In the letter, the author Aristeas claims to be a Greek official in the court of Ptolemy Philadelphus (285–247). There is no doubt that the letter is a piece of fiction, though perhaps using earlier legend on an official translation effort of the Torah. According to the story, mentioned previously, the royal librarian informs the king that his library lacks the revered law books of the Jews. These books contain a worthy source of philosophy and legislation, flawless as it is divine. The books must first be translated, and the king orders the project carried out. After an exchange of letters with the high priest in Jerusalem, seventy two Jewish sages, six from each of the twelve tribes, fluent in Hebrew and Greek, arrive in Alexandria to undertake the translation. When the copy of the Hebrew books written in letters of gold on the finest parchment is unrolled, the king kneels in obeisance seven times and thanks the “God whose words these are” (177). In honor of the event, the king invites the sages to a seven-day banquet, and then he sets them to work in a house by the sea. The sages produce daily drafts, which are then compared and written up. The translation is completed in 72 days, “just as if such a result was achieved by some deliberate design” (307). The legend established the divine inspiration of the Septuagint translation, and after it had been read in the presence of the Jews, they solemnly laid a curse on anyone who would alter it. Although the purpose of the letter is to describe the Septuagint, most of the treatise is devoted to the seven-day banquet, or symposium, during which the seventytwo sages answer questions on how a king should rule. The work may be described, therefore, as a Jewish version of the common Greek treatise “On Kingship.” The wisdom is not noticeably Jewish, except its constant reference to the one true God, whose laws, after all, are the reason for the banquet. Besides demonstrating Jewish


piety, it serves as the unifying factor between the Ptolemaic king and his Jewish subjects. In what seems to be a bold move for a Jew (although the author has fictionally identified himself as a Greek), Aristeas equates the Jewish God with Zeus when he says to the king, “God, the overseer and creator of all things, whom [the Jews] worship, is he whom all men worship, and we too, your Majesty, though we address him differently, as Zeus” (16). Upon so monotheistic a foundation Aristeas can establish the rule of God, which favors the Jewish way of life because Jews have his laws. The highest good in life is the realization that God rules over all things. Aristeas is among the first Hellenistic Jews to make the equivalence of Zeus with the Lord God of Israel. We do not know how many held this view, but it represents an effort of the Jews to make worship of their god acceptable in the Hellenistic world. Aristobulus (second century b.c.e.), probably a fellow Jewish Alexandrian, quotes a few lines from a poem of Aratus, Phaenomena, which begins by praising Zeus and simply changes the name Zeus to theos, God. He argues the name change is appropriate because the Greeks are really praising the creator God of the Jews.149 The universalism of wisdom has by now run nearly to its logical conclusion. Since there is only one true God, whenever Gentiles praise God by whatever name, they are bearing witness to the God of the Jews, and Jews may rightly join them in praise.

S2.1.2 Eschatology: Visions for the Future The crisis of the Maccabean revolt generated three major eschatological works: one in the Enochic tradition called Enoch’s “Two Dream Visions” (1 En 83–90), the book of Daniel, and the book of Jubilees. Each work describes the ultimate victory of God over the enemies of Israel during this evil age, and both appear to anticipate the imminent intervention of God into history. At the same time in the Diaspora, a novel form of prophetic visions was born in the Jewish Sibylline Oracles. S2.1.2.1 Enoch’s Dream Visions In the Enochic tradition, Enoch recounts to Methuselah two great dreams he had before his marriage to Edna. In his first vision he saw the impending destruction of the flood, and in response he prayed that his offspring would not be destroyed from the earth. The implication is that his prayers were answered in the salvation of Noah, auguring the truth of the second dream. The second dream vision, known as the Animal Apocalypse, portrays the history of humanity before and after the flood, in which humans are depicted as animals and angels take the form of humans. The antediluvial race are cows that multiply on the face of the earth. Stars fall from heaven and turn into cattle themselves. These bovids extended their sexual organs and mount the cows, which then became pregnant and give birth to elephants, camels, and donkeys. Chaos and terror came upon all the cattle, until four angels, snow-white persons, intervene. The earth is destroyed by a flood, except for one of the snow-white bovids who is taught how to build a boat, in which he and his family survive. The repopulation of the earth, however, yields every manner of animal, from lions, wolves, snakes, hyenas, boars, to eagles, kites, and ravens,


among others. The patriarchs Abraham and Isaac and their wives are white bulls and heifers, while Jacob and his descendants are portrayed as sheep. The sheep are continually ravaged and killed by other beasts as the history of Israel is played out, from the exodus, entering Canaan, the time of judges, and the two kingdoms. Because of the sin of King Manasseh, the sheep are handed over to 70 shepherds symbolizing the Gentiles, who rule them during four epochs up to the Seleucid kingdom. But these shepherds kill more of the sheep than they are permitted, so the angel who watches over them intercedes and brings on the end times. While the sheep are being killed by swooping birds, one ram sprouts a great horn and opens the eyes of the other sheep. He leads them in battle against the enemies. Once the battle has begun, the Lord of the sheep comes and takes the rod of his wrath and smites the earth, which opens and swallows the beasts and the birds of heaven that killed the sheep. A great sword is given to the sheep, and they march against the remaining beasts, which all flee. A throne is set up in a pleasant land. The Lord of the sheep sits in judgment, and the books are opened. The 70 shepherds are judged and thrown into the fiery abyss. Finally, a new house is built for the Lord of the sheep, and all the sheep are invited in. A snow-white bull is born, symbolizing the return of Adam, and all the animals are transformed back into white cattle, as it was in the beginning. S2.1.2.2 Daniel 7–12 The book of Daniel is a composite work containing older stories of the hero, Daniel (2–6), and then a series of dream visions that Daniel recounts (7–12). The older stories are in Aramaic, the later dream visions are in Hebrew, but the first story (Dan 1) is in Hebrew and the first dream vision (Dan 7) is in Aramaic. The solution to this curious mixture appears to be that the author of the dream visions took as his ancient sage a certain Daniel who had become the central figure in a collection of court legends set in Babylon that circulated earlier as an Aramaic collection. The author composed an introductory story in Hebrew, chapter 1, and composed his first dream vision in Aramaic, chapter 7, to facilitate the linguistic transition into the new genre. The actual process of formation may have been more complex than that, but the combination of the two genres shows considerable artistry of a single hand. The later Greek translation is expanded with additional stories. The visions of Daniel begin with the divine revelation of human history. Out of the sea, a symbol of primeval chaos, four great beasts emerge. The first is like a lion with eagle’s wings, the second like a bear, the third was a leopard with four wings on its back and four heads. A fourth beast appeared, “terrible and dreadful and exceedingly strong; and it had great iron teeth; it devoured and broke in pieces, and stamped the residue with its feet. It was different from all the beasts that were before it; and it had ten horns” (7:7). As Daniel watched, thrones were placed and one that was ancient of days took his seat; his raiment was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool; his throne was fiery flames, its wheels were burning fire. A stream of fire issued and came forth from before him; a thousand thousands served him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before

Religious Development—Foundations II 163 him; the court sat in judgment, and the books were opened. I looked then because of the sound of the great words which the horn was speaking. And as I looked, the beast was slain, and its body destroyed and given over to be burned with fire. As for the rest of the beasts, their dominion was taken away, but their lives were prolonged for a season and a time. I saw in the night visions, and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him. And to him was given dominion and glory and kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him; his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed. (7:9–14)

Daniel is terrified by the visions and approaches an angelic attendant who explains, “These four great beasts are four kings who shall arise out of the earth. But the saints of the Most High shall receive the kingdom, and possess the kingdom for ever, for ever and ever.” The four kings, or kingdoms, are the Babylonian, Medes, Persians, and the Greeks (Macedonians). In the remainder of chapter 7, the angel elaborates on the fourth beast, representing Antiochus IV, and his oppression of God’s people. The “one like a son of man” is probably (though certainty eludes us) the archangel Michael, in keeping with the contrast between the animal imagery for the wicked empires and the human image created in the divine image. In essence, the son of man is a divine being acting for God. A second vision (Dan 8), revealed 2 years later, expands on the empire of Alexander the Great culminating in Antiochus IV, his desecration of the temple, and cessation of the daily sacrifices. Daniel is told that after 2300 evenings and mornings (1150 days), the sanctuary will be restored. Some years later (Dan 9), Daniel contemplates the prediction of Jeremiah on the 70 years of exile and enters into prayer for the people of Israel. While Daniel prays, the archangel Gabriel comes and reveals that the 70 years of Jeremiah are 70 weeks of years (= 490 years), at which time the final kingdom will come and the eschatological battle will ensue. In the final three chapters, more details of the end of days are revealed. In Dan 12, the first explicit reference to a great resurrection is given: At that time shall arise Michael, the great prince who has charge of your people. And there shall be a time of trouble, such as never has been since there was a nation till that time; but at that time your people shall be delivered, every one whose name shall be found written in the book. And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the firmament; and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever. (Dan 12:1–3)

The great resurrection at this early stage speaks of some, not all, who will awake. The resurrection is a necessary event if the justice of God is to be maintained and the blood of the martyrs vindicated. There is no indication of a universal judgment, only for those involved in the final battle. But the great hope has been revealed, and future visionaries will build upon it. Both apocalyptic works draw on a number of motifs from the prophets, Psalms, and symbols from ancient myths that conveyed a powerful impact in their day. Daniel’s visions of the victory of God draw especially on Pss 2 and 110, in which


the Lord’s king is given victory over the nations that are in rebellion against God. The visions unmistakably speak to the present distress of God’s people during the revolt of the Maccabees, yet because they are eschatological, hence beyond time, they provide a heavenly perspective on earthly events, valid for all time. S2.1.2.3 Jubilees The book of Jubilees amplifies the book of Genesis through Exod 12, from creation to giving the law at Sinai. Moses is the recipient of this revelation, and he is told to write it down for the benefit of the generations to follow. Jubilees stresses the correct manner in which Jews ought to follow Mosaic law and calls readers back to the original way of righteousness. The book serves as a commentary on the biblical account, often introduced with the formula “For this reason it is written,” explaining difficulties and emphasizing the most important parts with additional revelation. The historical events are dated according to a solar calendar, which follows from the divine order of the universe, “the rule of the sun” (4:21), and therefore, ought to be followed. Contrary to the biblical record, the priestly outlook of the book allows no sacrifices to be made, either by Noah or Abraham, until sacrifices are instituted by Aaron. The eschatology of Jubilees looks to a reversal of the evil world. The myth of the fallen angels (Gen 6) as developed in the Enochic Book of the Watchers, becomes the basis for the demonic infiltration of the earth. The celestial catastrophe introduced demons into the world which continue even after the flood to cause the offspring of Noah to sin (5–7). The central eschatological passage is introduced following the death of Abraham, who despite his great virtue, lived only 175 years (23:16–32). The patriarchs before the flood lived 19 jubilees, but Abraham did not reach 4 jubilees, because of the sinfulness of humanity. In the olden days they lived well for a thousand years, but in our days three score and ten is a long life, and it is filled with trouble. The apocalypse falls into the four traditional stages of redemption: sin, punishment, repentance, deliverance. Because that generation will forsake the covenant and engage in every form of abomination, the earth will fall into chaos and tribulation (16–21). God will give them over to the Gentiles and the sword. They shall cry aloud, but none shall be saved. The babes will have white hair and be like a man of 100 years (22–25). But in those days, the children will turn to study the law and return to the path of righteousness (26). Then the Lord will bring vindication and repair the earth. There will be no Satan or evil, and the length of life will return to nigh a thousand years, and their days will be filled with peace (27–31). S2.1.2.4 Sibylline Oracles The Sibylline Oracles express the same Diaspora universalism found in the Letter of Aristeas.150 Just as all who worship the most high God worship the God of Israel, so all genuine oracles must come from the one true God. This will contribute to a natural theology that is able to hold Gentiles responsible for what divine revelation they have received. The origins of the Sibyl, as well as the etymology of the name, are lost in antiquity. Sibyls were apparently guilds of women who prophesied through mantic


inspiration (mania), and their oracles, associated with various shrines, emerged well established from the mists of history. Varro speaks of 10 Sibyls, none of which are Jewish, though one is Persian. The Jewish Sibyl is as mysterious as the others, though at one point she claims to be the daughter-in-law of Noah (3.827). The earliest reference to her is from Pausanias, in the second century c.e.: “After the time of Demo there lived amongst the Hebrews who dwell above Palestine a prophetess of the name of Sabbe: they say that her father was Berosus, and her mother Erymanthe; but some call her a Babylonian, others an Egyptian.”151 Most likely the oracles began in Egypt and were spawned by the Babylonian Sibylline Oracles. The traditional function of the Sibyl to provide a voice for the gods was reason enough for a Jewish community in Egypt to begin its own collection of oracles, both by appropriating existing Hellenic oracles and composing new ones. Whatever the origin, they were preserved in private by Jews in Alexandria, who supplemented them from time to time, and eventually came into the hands of Christians, who both respected the ancient Jewish oracles and added their own. The result is our largest corpus of extant oracles, the Oracula Sibyllina. The oldest oracles date to the second century b.c.e. and are collected in book 3. The formula of a prophetic call appears from time to time. “But why does my heart shake again? And why is my spirit lashed by a whip, compelled from within to proclaim an oracle to all? But I will utter everything again, as much as God bids me say to men” (3.4–8). The first oracle begins with the Tower of Babel, and then, perhaps drawing inspiration from Euhemerus, tells the story of the men and women of ancient times who became the Greek pantheon (3.97–161). The second oracle surveys history from Solomon and the Greek kingdoms and predicts the coming of Rome as “another kingdom, white and many-headed from the western sea.” Rome is condemned for its brutality and homosexuality, and its end is predicted when there comes the seventh king of Egypt, of the Greek race. This points to the reign of Ptolemy VI Philometor (180–145), in anticipation of his son Ptolemy VII Neos Philopater (145–144), who did not fulfill any such prophecy, thereby confirming the authenticity of its early date. The Jewish community rose to the height of its prestige during the reign of Ptolemy Philometor and Cleopatra III, when the leading generals of the army were Jews, and the Jewish community had its own temple at Leontopolis. The Sibyl’s antagonism to Rome probably stems from Roman support for Ptolemy VI’s younger brother, Ptolemy VIII Euergetes II Physcon (170–163), as the rival to the throne. The third oracle reviews Jewish history from Abraham to the exile and restoration and offers a peon to the race of the Jews and their law (196–294). The fourth oracle asks the Greeks why they have abandoned the true God to worship mere idols and invites them to offer sacrifices at the temple of the great God. The oracle predicts a series of eschatological tribulations and finishes with the prediction of an ideal king: “And then God will send a King from the sun who will stop the entire earth from evil war, killing some, imposing oaths of loyalty on others; and he will not do all these things by his private plans but in obedience to the noble teachings of the great God” (652–656). This has been interpreted as messianic but hardly predicts the restoration of the Davidic lineage, and in the context of the rest


of the oracles, it seems to look for the ideal king in Egypt, who will nevertheless deliver the Jews. The fifth oracle is entirely eschatological, yet it calls on the Greeks to repent and serve the great God, so they might have a share in the deliverance.

S2.1.3 Messiah The once prevalent assumption that a coherent and widespread expectation of the Messiah permeated Jewish life during most of its postexilic history has been abandoned.152 While expectations of a messiah figure do surface here and there in the postexilic Jewish literature, they are far from coherent. The phrase “the Messiah” (Ha-mashiakh) standing alone is nowhere to be found in the Hebrew canon. In the history of Israel, “a messiah” in the sense of an individual set aside for an office could apply to kings, priests, and prophets. Aaron and Zadok were anointed as priests, Saul, David, and Solomon as kings, and Elisha as prophet. The three offices of God’s rule remain central to Jewish ideology, but it is the royal messiah that became the focus of the later messianic hope. The expectation of a king from the lineage of David comes from the eternal covenant made with the house of David.153 But it was a thin thread that ended in exile, and historically, descendants of David did not have a stellar record. Two visions of a royal messiah emerge over the centuries, one in specific fulfillment to the covenant with David, and the other a vision of an ideal king, often associated with a golden age. The Davidic king is more restricted, since the king must be a descendant of David, but it is also the greater fulfillment of promise. The ideal king is more diffused, like a looming shadow figure who represents the perfect rule of God. The ideal king might be anyone of Israel whom the Lord chooses.154 A messianic prophecy might be drawn from many places in the Hebrew Scriptures, depending on how “messianic” is understood, but it would be a private interpretation, not one universally, or even widely, recognized. Ezekiel speaks of the Davidic kingship: “And I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd. And I, the Lord, will be their God, and my servant David shall be prince among them; I, the Lord, have spoken (34:23–24). Deutero-Isaiah applies the titles of shepherd and messiah to Cyrus, king of Persia,155 and never invokes kingship on an Israelite or descendant of David. After the exile, Haggai (2:23) identifies Zerubbabel as the signet ring of the Lord but does not cite a fulfillment of the promise to David. Zechariah (4:14) calls both Zerubbabel and Jeshua the high priest “sons of olive oil,” translated as “the two anointed ones,” but he does not unambiguously declare Zerubbabel the fulfilment of the Davidic dynasty, nor would it have made much practical difference, since Zerubbabel was not a king but a governor of Judah under the thumb of Darius.156 Ezra and Nehemiah, who are loyal and beholden to the Persian king, have no interest in a Davidic ruler. Neither is the Chronicler especially interested in a resumption of the Davidic kingship. Chronicles does repeat the covenant oracle given to David by the prophet Nathan but alters the words “your house and your kingdom” of David’s kingdom to “my house and my kingdom,” God’s kingdom.157 Elsewhere, conditions of obedience are attached to the promise,


providing an escape clause to satisfy the historical demise of the Davidic dynasty (2 Chr 6:16). The Chronicler lauds David and Solomon because they sustained the temple priests, and as such serve as the model for any king.158 Ben Sira praised King David, Hezekiah, and Josiah but recognized that because of sin the dynasty had ended and gave no hope for its renewal.159 After nearly four centuries of living under a foreign king, and guided by the priestly hierarchy of Jerusalem, the Zadokite high priest had absorbed dynastic rule in place of the Davidic king. The late-born but timely biblical book of Daniel, besides speaking of the one like a son of man, also speaks of “an anointed one.” While explaining that Jeremiah’s prophecy of 70 years until God restores his people to the land of Israel must now be understood as 70 weeks of years (490 years), when God will bring an end to sin and produce everlasting righteousness, he states: Know therefore and understand that from the going forth of the word to restore and build Jerusalem to the coming of an anointed one (mashiach), a prince, there shall be seven weeks. Then for sixty-two weeks it shall be built again with squares and moat, but in a troubled time. And after the sixty-two weeks, an anointed one (mashiach) shall be cut off, and shall have nothing; and the people of the prince who is to come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary.160

The first anointed one, a prince (v. 25), is probably the Davidic dynast Zerubbabel; the second anointed one (v. 26) in the author’s own day is the high priest, Onias III, who was cut off from his legitimate office. The last “anointed one” in the Bible is therefore, a high priest, not a descendant of David. Nevertheless, a messiah has emerged as a figure of divine agency in the providential control of history.161 The Hasmonean rulers changed the nature of the high priesthood and kingship and thereby influenced the messianic hope. Not only did the Zadokite dynasty end, but also a king from the tribe of Levi took the throne. While this caused considerable dissent among some groups, there is little ideological polemic against them in the sources at that time, and nothing that calls for a messiah to overthrow the Hasmoneans. The court historian of 1 Maccabees (ca.100 b.c.e.), composed a dying speech for old Mattathias, in which David, who “inherited the throne of the kingdom for ever” (2:57), is but one in a line of famous men from Abraham to Daniel that provide a noble lineage for the new rulers, his sons. The Hasmoneans and their supporters saw Davidic kingship as merely a prototype that priestly kings should emulate, and presumably reap the blessings of divine promise. It may be seen as the victory of realpolitik over ideology, but at the time, Davidic ideology was largely dormant. Even the Pharisaic challenge to the Hasmonean John Hyrcanus allowed him to keep the office of king, so long as he gave up the office of high priest. It was not until the Hasmonean dynasty had proved itself utterly unworthy to occupy the throne of Israel, and had virtually come to an end, that the great hope for the Messiah, son of David, strode forth. But when he came, he came fully fashioned. S2.1.3.1 Psalms of Solomon An individual, or a community, authored a number of psalms during the generation between Hasmonean and Herodian rule in Judaea (ca. 63–30). Eighteen


psalms survive in a collection known as the Psalms of Solomon. The psalms were undoubtedly written in Hebrew, although they survive only in Greek and Syriac. They contain communal praise, laments, prayers of repentance and for deliverance, but also many references to recent events that allow them to be dated with unusual precision. The events encompass the civil war between Aristobulus II and his brother Hyrcanus II after the death of Alexandra Salome, the intervention of Rome through general Pompey, the sack of Jerusalem, and the sacrilege of the temple. None of the figures are named, but the descriptions are plain enough. Pss 2, 8, 17 and 18 are the most relevant to the end of the Hasmoneans, and 17 is the strongest messianic psalm:162 Lord, you are our king forevermore, for in you, O God, does our soul take pride. How long is the time of a person’s life on the earth? As is his time, so also is his hope in him. But we hope in God our savior, for the strength of our God is forever with mercy. And the kingdom of our God is forever over the nations in judgment Lord, you chose David to be king over Israel, and swore to him about his descendants forever, that his kingdom should not fail before you. (1–4)

The psalm then admits that Israel had sinned and God punished them by giving “sinners” rule over Israel, those to whom kingship was not promised (Hasmoneans). “With pomp they set up a monarchy because of their arrogance; and despoiled the throne of David with arrogant shouting” (6). But after a time, God overthrew them by a man “alien to our race” (Pompey). This “lawless one” laid waste to the land and massacred young and old alike. He punished the former sinners, but everyone suffered. The psalm then prays for the restoration of the Davidic dynasty. See, Lord, and raise up for them their king, the son of David, to rule over your servant Israel in the time known to you, O God. (21) He will gather a holy people whom he will lead in righteousness. And he will judge the tribes of the people that have been made holy by the Lord their God. (26) And he will be a righteous king over them, taught by God. There will be no unrighteousness among them in his days, for all shall be holy, and their king shall be the Lord Messiah. (32)163

The Messiah’s rule is God’s rule. The Lord is Messiah’s king, and the king is the Lord’s Messiah. Messiah needs no weapons of war, for he conquers with the word of his mouth (33–35). Messiah is without sin (36). Blessed are those born in those days to see the good fortune of Israel which God will bring to pass in the assembly of the tribes.

Religious Development—Foundations II 169 May God dispatch his mercy to Israel; may he deliver us from the pollution of profane enemies; The Lord Himself is our king forevermore. (44–46)

The congregation that sang the psalms speaks of themselves as the pious ones but are otherwise unidentified. For a long time, scholars assigned this to the Pharisees, and there is nothing that hinders the verdict, but it might equally be from the Essenes or a synagogue congregation that identifies with neither. The psalms as a whole draw extensively on biblical psalms and the prophets. They bring together the themes of the ideal king, the wise “philosopher king,” with the eschatological rule of God’s kingdom, and fulfill the Davidic covenant. Ps 17 relies especially on Isa 11:1–2. There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

The breadth and perfection of Messiah’s rule gives it an eschatological aura, similar to the universal peace of Isaiah, when the lion shall eat straw like an ox and the child will play over the hole of the asp. The portrait of the ideal king is for the first time given the title of “Son of David” (21). The Davidic covenant is fulfilled merely by the presence of the Messiah. The ideal kingship of God is fulfilled by the nature of the Messiah. All the earth shall fall under his rule (30). The Gentiles shall come from the ends of the earth to see his glory, bearing their children, who have been excluded from the glory of God, as gifts (31). Notably lacking from this perfect rule is the high priest. Because the Messiah is the perfect rule of God and the people of God are now righteous, there is no need for priest or temple. The title “Lord Messiah” (Christos Kurios), if original, occurs only here (17:32; 18:7) in all known Jewish literature, though it is later appropriated extensively by Christianity. S2.1.3.2 Dead Sea Scrolls The Dead Sea Scrolls eschatology features two messiahs, the “anointed one of Aaron” and the “anointed one of Israel.” The community is to follow the precepts laid down of old “until there shall come the Prophet and the Messiahs of Aaron and Israel.”164 In other texts, the anointed priest is first in dignity and authority. When the people shall enter the assembly in the end times, the Priest Messiah enters first at “the head of the whole congregation of Israel,” then the Messiah of Israel. Before the communal meal, the priest extends his hand and blesses the bread and the wine, then the messiah of Israel blesses the bread and the wine.165 It is clear throughout the DSS that the future high priest, the Messiah of Aaron, is the leading anointed one by whom God’s will is mediated. Apart from the two messiahs, however, the Davidic messiah is also mentioned.166 The Davidic messiah is called the Branch of David (tsemakh David) taken primarily from Jer 23:5 and Jer 33:15–17 and surrounded by features from other important texts.167 His primary task is to serve as the leader of the remnant of Israel


in the eschatological battle against the Kittim (the Romans), including Herod, the puppet king of the Romans. It is the battle between the Sons of Light and the Sons of Darkness. Upon his victory, the promised Davidic rule is set up over a restored Israel. The Branch of David bears all the marks of royalty, and his rule is universal. But in the exercise of his rule, the Davidic Messiah is again under the authority of the priests, and his commands are according to the instruction of the priests. The Qumran Davidic Messiah, therefore, is a military figure leading God’s final victory, who then serves as the royal guarantor of God’s rule through the priests. This messianic picture accords with the rest of the Qumran literature that subordinates the royal messiah of Israel to the priestly messiah of Aaron. S2.1.3.3 Parables of Enoch The last segment of the Enoch traditions, the so-called Similitudes, or Parables of Enoch (1 En 37–71), are also the most enigmatic.168 They are not found among the Qumran library and are variously dated (ca. 40 b.c.e.–40 c.e.). This would hardly be significant except for the fact that they feature the Son of Man figure, and the question arises how it might be related to the Christian gospels, or even a title used by Jesus himself. The book is comprised of three parables (38–44; 45–57; 58–69), which draw upon themes from the earlier Book of Luminaries and Book of the Watchers. Enoch again ascends to the throne room of God and journeys across the heavens, and secrets are revealed. The four archangels Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, and Phanuel are present, as well as the great demon Azazel and his minions. The divine drama unfolds in the three parables. Central to the drama, however, is the revelation of God’s supreme agent of salvation, who is identified with Daniel’s one like a son of man (Dan 7:13). The new vision of the Son of Man draws on three additional strands of biblical tradition. From the Deutero-Isaiah traditions is given the titles of Chosen One and Righteous One (46:1–3; 42:1; 49:3–7; 53:11), and he is made the light of the nations (48:4; 49:6). He fulfills the Davidic promise of Ps 2, for he is the Lord’s Anointed One (Messiah), and he will bring justice against the kings of the earth (48:8–10; Ps 2; Isa 11:2). He is pre-existent, named, chosen, and hidden before creation, before the sun, moon, and stars were made, which places him alongside divine Wisdom (48:3–6; Prov 8:22; Sir 24:3–10). This new figure of the Son of Man embodies the Messiah, the Servant of Isaiah, and Wisdom. In the third parable, unlike the son of man figure in Daniel who comes only after judgment is pronounced, the Son of Man is seated on the throne of God and himself judges the wicked and slays his enemies by the word of his mouth (62–63). The Servant traditions of Isaiah are altered in 1 Enoch, for here the Servant does not suffer, but the saints, his chosen ones suffer, while the Servant vindicates them. Finally, in what appears to be a later addition, Enoch is told that he, himself, is the Son of Man (71). S2.1.3.4 Ruling Ideology The Psalms of Solomon and the Qumran literature offer two visions of the Lord’s anointed in fairly stark contrast. In the Psalms, no high priest is needed,


for the Lord rules unhindered in his messiah, Son of David. In the Qumran texts, the Davidic messiah, as the messiah of Israel, fills the true purpose of kingship in Israel, namely, to sustain the kingdom of God under the leadership of the priests of God. Both Davidic Messiahs wage war against the enemies of God, but the Qumran Branch of David uses weapons of war and himself kills the king of the Kittim, whereas the Psalms of Solomon messiah conquers by the word of his mouth. Both Davidic messiahs inaugurate the end times, a major upheaval, and the perfect rule of God, but the Qumran vision is more down to earth, with more human involvement. The two messiahs are mere human beings who succeed through divine aid and rule what appears to be an earthly kingdom. What the two visions share is a repugnance of the Hasmonean rule, in which one person held the two anointed offices and ruled wickedly. One solution is to remove the priests from messiah’s rule; the other is to have two distinct messiahs. Neither messianic vision mentions the coming of Elijah, but the Qumran Community Rule does preserve the three offices, that of prophet, along with the anointed of Aaron and Israel. There lingered among Jews the expectation that God would send a prophet, no doubt in fulfillment of the promise of Moses: “The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brethren—him you shall heed” (Deut 18:15). But just as there are false prophets, there may be false messiahs. How do people distinguish true from false? The words of a false prophet do not come to pass. The false messiah fails. God’s messiah cannot fail. The enigmatic Son of Man in the Enochic Parables is not the Messiah of later eschatology, yet he comes as the supreme agent of God who is at least the equivalent of the messiah in the final victory of God. Both Enoch and Daniel remind the Jews that God anoints whomever he chooses for his own purpose. If so, any attempt to isolate the messiah and reduce his office to a neat little box is doomed to failure. The belief that Enoch did not die, and may return as the Son of Man, opened the door to Jesus and Christianity.

S2.2 Jews and Jewishness in the Roman Empire S2.2.1 Hellenistic Rome and the Jews Augustus succeeded where his adoptive uncle, Julius Caesar, had failed because Augustus minimized the obvious changes from the republican past to the imperial future. The old institutions were kept in place, alleviating fears among the Roman ruling class. But the senate was aware that the empire had become too vast for a senate to manage and so lent its support to the nascent imperial cult that sprang up around the empire. This cult of personality served as the unifying factor among the diverse peoples. A person entered into membership of the Roman Empire by showing allegiance to Caesar Augustus. Jewish leaders everywhere adapted their expression of Jewish loyalties to the figure of Augustus. Herod the Great was a master of the patronage system and served as an example to Jews everywhere, even if his own Jewishness was highly suspect in the eyes of many Jews, particularly in


Palestine. The eagle above the gate of the new temple in Jerusalem served as the great iconic expression of loyalty. Twice daily, priests in the temple offered sacrifices to God on behalf of Caesar. According to Philo, Caesar Augustus “ordered that for all time continuous sacrifices of whole burnt offerings should be carried out every day at his own expense as a tribute to the most high God.”169 By this ritual, Rome contributed to the Jewish supplications for the blessings of God. Such sacrifices were part of the diplomatic protocol and guarantees of political loyalty, and in the case of the Jews, served as their alternative to formal emperor worship. Josephus notes that the sacrifice was “payment of homage of another sort, secondary to that paid to God, to worthy men; such honors we do confer upon the emperors and the people of Rome.”170 Jews of Egypt and Asia found ways to express loyalty to Caesar in their synagogues, but the delicate manner in which Josephus puts it, a “payment of homage of another sort,” reveals the difficulty Jews faced in finding an alternative to emperor worship. As is often the case, the difficulty lay in the meaning of words, and no word is more prone to confusion than the word “religion.” From the Greco-Roman functional point of view, “religion” was cult. A temple or shrine was the focus of the cult, and authorized priests or magistrates performed the rituals with great care and precision. Cicero assures the world that the reason Rome had achieved its present greatness was because of the great care it took in the performance of its cult.171 The purpose of religion was pax deorum, “peace with the gods,” in order to receive divine aid for the people, of which individuals were a part, but only a part. The responsibility of the leaders, be they of city, kingdom, or empire, was to insure the correct actions of the cult in order to insure the continued aid of the gods and the stability of the realm. Piety was a personal responsibility to a social concept of what constituted loyalty. Piety included social mores, how one ought to act in society, and from that flowed morals (Latin) and ethics (Greek). For Jews, piety meant loyalty to God, to the Jewish people (ethnos), and more broadly, to the city, kingdom, or empire of which they were a part. Religion was a communal responsibility; piety was personal responsibility. Rome took great interest in the official cults around the empire, for just as the state religion in Rome was carefully performed, so should every cult be, so that no god would have cause to work against the empire. For this reason Rome supported the Jewish-mandated death penalty for any breach of the sacred space around the temple in Jerusalem. Rome had no particular interest in how people expressed their piety, so long as it contributed to the stability of the empire, and therefore Rome supported the customs of each nation that entered the empire. Private assemblies, guilds, and religions that were devoted to the welfare of the individual were a source of political instability, and Rome kept a watchful eye on them. The religion of the Jews covered both the personal and the corporate worship and had received its privileged status under Julius Caesar. Assemblies in synagogues were protected as essential to Jewish piety. Although the phrase religio licita (legitimate or recognized religion of the empire) first occurs in our extant sources only with Tertullian (ca.160–235 c.e.), his application of it to Judaism identifies the “religion” of the Jews as a distinct and authorized cult, or, rather the Jewish way of making peace with the gods.172


The peace and prosperity of the Augustan era allowed Jews to emerge within the cosmopolitan society of empire as a significant presence. The lingua franca of Greek and the common culture of Hellenism provided the Jewish Diaspora a new vehicle for unity in their spread. The name Jew followed a clear linguistic trail: Yehudi (Hebrew), Ioudaios (Greek), Iudaeus (Latin), from which we get Judaean and Jew. At the turn of the era, all the terms retained an ethno-geographic association; that is, a person originally from the land of Judaea (Judah, Yehud), and inextricably bound to the people (ethnos) of this land, no matter where they now dwelt. It was equivalent to Egyptian or Syrian (or Irish or Scandinavian). It is argued that prior to the second century b.c.e. all references to Jews are ethno-geographic and should be translated into English as Judaean, in order to differentiate the name from the modern name of Jew. During the second century b.c.e., the Greek Ioudaios begins to add a religious meaning to the ethno-geographic identity, but the complete transformation from ethno-geographic to religious will take centuries.173 As Jewish communities emerged in their larger urban surroundings, Gentiles paid more attention to them, and Jews or Jewishness became a topic of social discussion. Horace (65–8 b.c.e.), when he spoke of the persuasive power of a big band of poets, said: “and we, like the Jews, will compel you to make one of our throng.”174 This comment on the Jews, en passant, admits to a compelling Jewish proselytism in Rome. Cicero, during his defense of Flaccus, a governor charged with misappropriation of Jewish temple tithes in Asia, took the occasion to ridicule the “odium that is attached to Jewish gold” and feigned concern that the Jewish audience at the trial might rouse public opinion against his client.175 In another speech, he spoke of the Jews as “born to be slaves,” but this may have been a reaction to the many Jewish slaves Pompey brought back to Rome after the brief revolt in 63.176 Cicero’s disdain, however, was fair-minded, for he treated all non-Latins equally.

S2.2.2 Diaspora Jews and Jewishness The word diaspora for Jews outside Palestine is first attested in the Greek translation of Deuteronomy 28:25: “The Lord will cause you to be defeated before your enemies; you shall go out one way against them, and flee seven ways before them; and you shall be a horror to all the kingdoms of the earth.” Where the Hebrew reads “you shall be a horror” the Greek proclaims, “you shall be a dispersion (diaspora)” in all the kingdoms of the earth. In the second century b.c.e. the Jewish Sibyl joined the proclamation with her oracle: “Every land and sea shall be filled with thee.”177 At the close of the Augustan era, we have a people known as the Jews scattered about the Roman Empire and beyond, with a major concentration in their homeland of Palestine. Strabo of Amaseia, the traveler and geographer par excellence of the Augustan era, remarked that the Jewish people had “made its way into every city, and it is not easy to find any place in the habitable world which has not received this nation and in which it has not made its power felt.”178 Strabo gives only an impression, but we have a fairly good idea of the geographical spread because Jewish communities will begin appearing fully formed over the next two centuries,


and they all have migratory histories. There was a strong concentration in old Babylonia, with others in the northern lands of ancient Assyria. Josephus remarks, whether accurately or not, that “until now there have been ten tribes beyond the Euphrates—countless myriads whose number cannot be ascertained.”179 The Jewish population in Syria, especially around Antioch, was significant, and Jewish communities could probably be found across Asia Minor. Jews as Israelites had lived in Egypt since before the fall of the first temple, and they probably had migrated west across the northern coast of Africa during the Punic era, and were strong in Cyrene. Later, one Jewish community will claim their house of worship was built during the days of Solomon. There were Jews in Cyprus, and likely small communities in Spain, perhaps in the Cisalpine Gaul, and certainly in Italy, with a significant community in Rome. The 8000 Jews in Rome who lent their weight to the Judaean delegation in 4 b.c.e. will have been adult males, probably heads of households, and represent a Jewish community of about 40,000 souls with some political clout ever since Julius Caesar granted them recognition and rights. Although the number of Jews is a difficult estimate, there were probably between 3 and 5 million Jews in the Roman Empire, and perhaps a million in the East, throughout Mesopotamia.180 It is assumed some Jews were converts to the Jewish faith, through marriage, slavery, or conviction. Also, Jews lived hygienic lives for ritual purity reasons, which might delay early death, and rarely aborted a fetus or left unwanted children to die of exposure as other peoples did.181 Wherever Jewish communities could be found, a local Gentile could probably offer a general description of Jews. Gentiles interested in the religion of the Jews, and those who entered into it through marriage or some ill-defined conversion process, had a picture in their minds as to what being a Jew, or Jewishness, entailed. The view from the outside, a Gentile’s point of view, will have been fairly simple, even stereotypical or caricatured, such as Pliny’s view that Essenes have nothing but palm trees for companions. Jews were peculiar in many respects. But it would be difficult in the Diaspora to pick out a Jew from the crowd. Jews worshiped only one God, fanatically it seemed to many Greeks and Romans, in a world where everyone knew there were many gods. However, there was a philosophical attraction to a single “most high god,” so from a sympathetic Gentile point of view, they were devoted to the equivalent of Zeus or Jupiter. Aristeas made that point and had the hutzpah to write his treatise as if he were a Gentile. Varro (116–27), a Roman literatus of the highest caliber, later made the same observation: since Jews and Romans worship the highest God, they worship the same God, and it made no difference what he was called.182 Worship of God included festivals, sacrifices, offerings, and involvement in communal prayers and teachings, usually on the sabbath. Diaspora Jews in particular held a strong sense of community, which no doubt many a Gentile found attractive, even if it came at the expense of a certain separation from others. The sabbath was the most visible mark of Jewish difference. Most Jews took their sabbath seriously, and it drew the scorn of industrious Gentiles who called them lazy. Ovid, however, advised young men to court girls on the sabbath when many shops were closed, so the young lady could not ask for so many presents.183


As the planetary week became more popular, a belief that the Saturn’s day (Saturday) was unlucky and its becoming associated with the Jewish cessation of activity on the sabbath may have spurred some Gentiles to also avoid important business on that day.184 The Jewish ritual of circumcision was somewhat repugnant to the Gentile, and especially the Greek, but Jews defended it as an ancient tradition given by their widely admired founder, Moses. Anyway, the Egyptians and Ethiopians, who also circumcised some of their men, had also learned it from Moses. Others would give reasons of cleanliness, or enhanced fertility, or the symbolic value of teaching us to excise the pleasures that beguile the mind. So, at least, Philo will argue in the next generation. A small number of Jews, however, continued to dismiss circumcision as a necessary marker, and left their sons uncircumcised. The book of Jubilees (15: 33–34) condemns such Jews as sons of Satan (Belial), outside the covenant, and destined for destruction. Philo will have to admonish such Jews in his own day as well. Jews also kept a peculiar diet that limited meat to animals with cloven hooves that chew the cud, and they abhorred swine’s flesh in particular. Juvenal would later satirize Judaea as the land where a “long-established clemency suffers pigs to attain old age.”185 But here too, Jews could explain that the restrictions were to teach a moral lesson; in this case, to “discriminate between our individual actions with a view to the practice of virtue.”186 Many Gentiles found dietary discrimination admirable, and some of the most philosophically minded were vegetarians. In general, despite the need to explain themselves, Diaspora Jews thrived among their Gentile neighbors. Jewish identity was ethnic with its associated customs and beliefs, a common bond they shared with Jews everywhere, as well as with their illustrious ancestors from the old country. The head of the Alexandrian Jewish community was called the ethnarch, leader of the ethnic Jews, but Jews readily showed loyalty to king and country when called upon. Prior to emperor worship in the next generations, the two loyalties, God and country, rarely clashed. When the Jews in the Ptolemaic army would not let Antipater enter Egypt with his Judaean army in support of the embattled Julius Caesar, Antipater appealed to their “common Jewish ethnicity” and persuaded them to join his side.187 It is doubtful that had Egypt been stable under a Ptolemy, the Jews of Egypt would have been persuaded on common ethnicity alone, since their loyalty to the king was probably stronger than to the temple or Judaea. The status of citizenship in the large cities is difficult to establish. Some Jews of high standing were full citizens, but the Jews in Alexandria, and probably in other large cities, were a protected minority with their own councils, whose members dealt with local governments as necessary. The degree of Jewish assimilation into Gentile society covered the spectrum. Those who fully integrated would be indistinguishable from Gentiles. Some Jews who wished to climb the social ladder simply abandoned their Jewish identity. The “extreme Hellenists” during the Maccabean revolt had their counterparts in the Diaspora. Among the more famous is “Dositheus, known as the son of Drimylus, a Jew by birth who later changed his religion and apostatized from the ancestral traditions,” and our source assures us that he was not alone.188 A Jew who entered public service would have been expected to perform the customary religious rites,


such as the two Jewish names that appear on a list of civic officials (ephebes) in Cyrene.189 Jews who entered the military would also have adapted to the public requirements, unless the army units were entirely Jewish, as some in Egypt seem to have been. The vast majority of Jews, like Aristeas, appear to have been well integrated into Gentile society, yet maintained a strong Jewish identity, at least in their own communities. It was for these Jews that the privileges were sought from Caesar and others. They could avoid going to court on the sabbath, yet maintain strong ties with business and civic leaders. Others remained segregated and kept to the Jewish quarters in cities where they existed or sheltered themselves in the Jewish community as best they could.

S2.2.3 Judaean Associations Associations are a way of like-minded people coming together for mutual benefit, and sometimes for a greater cause. Most scholars now assume that small groups lie behind the significant texts, such as Jubilees, the Enochian traditions gathered in 1 Enoch, the Psalms of Solomon, and others. Certainly the authors of these texts had a support group and an audience, and all of these texts appear to be independent of other known groups. The same assumption is applied to early Christian writings. The people behind the texts testify to the greater diversity of Jewish society than is otherwise apparent from the major historical statements of Josephus, Philo, and the Gospels. Diversity is also chronological. Associations, like the society in which they exist, are not static over the generations, so any general description of them in history will tend to blur incremental changes, and we can only hope that the descriptions given in our sources accurately reflect the groups during the times of the authors, all of which follow the era of Augustus by a generation or two.190 S2.2.3.1 Sadducees The Greek label “Sadducee” probably comes from the Hebrew Zadok, and what we have called the Zadokites among the priests. They were mostly, or perhaps exclusively, from the upper class, wealthy, educated, and associated with the ruling power structure, which focused on the temple cult. They drew their theology from the traditions that had sustained the Zadokites in power around the temple hierarchy, that is, the Torah and the divine hierarchy of the universe. This is how it had always been, and this is how it was supposed to be. It was the divine system of keeping the covenant, in which priests were the leaders and Levites were the caretakers. There was no need for prophets or angels to interfere. The former had passed their time, and the latter, even if Torah admitted to a few divine messengers, had never existed as the highly developed hierarchy of angels found in the apocalyptic literature. The rules that defined how a Jew ought to live were laid down in Torah, which as everyone ought to know, was eternal. Every Jew was responsible for his or her actions, readily known and easily observed. They paid little credence to the idea of providential control of all that happens in life. The belief in heaven, Hades, or any type of meaningful afterlife not found in Torah was therefore to be rejected. This


life is all there is. Make the most of it. That is what wisdom is for. An emphasis on the divine hierarchy, hence the status quo, probably lent stability to Sadducean ideology, and over the two centuries their views remained largely unchanged. The wisdom of Ben Sira may be considered a Sadducean statement of basic belief. Of course, Sadducees had to deal with new situations and perforce to make decisions based on an interpretation of Torah, but they had the advantage that if something was not clearly laid out in Torah, they could decide on the merits of the case. Such a theology might rub shoulders with other Hellenistic views without causing much friction. S2.2.3.2 Pharisees Pharisees are generally thought to derive their name from perushim, “separated ones.” If they took the name themselves, it might refer to Israel’s separation from the nations or their separation from the rest of Israel. If given by others, it may have been negative, such as “separatists.” Another possibility stems from the Hebrew parôsh, “to be precise,” hence parôshim (“specifiers”), which would accord with their reputation of being precise interpreters of the Torah.191 Pharisees were literate and reasonably educated, and they are generally placed in the upper-middle class of society called retainers, a professional class that supported the ruling class, scribes, judges, and magistrates but also included small land owners and merchants. Josephus mentions one Pharisee who was a priest, and others, such as Pollion and Samaias, were clearly leaders with access to King Herod. It is possible that some gifted members of the lower class of artisans managed to gain an education and entered the ranks of Pharisees. In the later generation of early rabbis, their occupations are clearly among the artisans, as tanners, smiths, cobblers, bakers, potters, weavers, and so forth.192 But the Pharisees of the Herodian era were mostly drawn from the professional class. The ideology that eventually bound them together was the desire to implement the covenant requirements that would lead to the fulfillment of the command to be a nation of priests.193 And as a nation of priests, they held that Torah was given to everyone, not just the priests, to interpret. They spent considerable labor in studying the Torah, and by the first century c.e., they likely merited the reputation among the people as the most accurate interpreters of Torah. Accuracy, however, should be understood as ingenuity of application of Torah rather than faithfulness to the original meaning of the text. In other words, Pharisees were the best at applying Torah to contemporary life. The Pharisees were able to find a variety of beliefs in Torah that the Sadducees did not see, most notably the resurrection of the body, last judgment, and an afterlife with appropriate rewards and punishments. They managed to find support for both sides of the theological quandary between divine providence and human free will. They were also inclined to sanctify ancestral tradition on the assumption that their ancestors followed the will of heaven, and their customs, unless clearly condemned by Torah, should be considered the way to walk in the path of righteousness. The phrase “oral Torah” can be demonstrated only from the later rabbinic traditions, but the concept has


its roots in the reverence for ancestral customs and the handing down of regulations from previous interpreters of Torah. S2.2.3.3 Essenes The Essenes received the most attention from Josephus undoubtedly because they were the most interesting to a Greco-Roman audience, for they do not play a more significant role in his history than the Pharisees. Josephus probably knew of a wider curiosity about the Essenes, such as that given by Pliny the Elder (ca. 23–79) in his Natural History. “On the west side of the Dead Sea, but out of range of the noxious exhalations of the coast, is the solitary tribe of the Essenes, which is remarkable beyond all the other tribes in the whole world, as it has no women and has renounced all sexual desire, has no money, and has only palm trees for company.”194 Philo of Alexandria also mentions the Essenes out of admiration for their contemplative life, and they reminded him of another group closer to home in Alexandria, the Therapeutae. The comment by Pliny has provided the anchor for including the community that lived at the site of Khirbet Qumran under the Essenes canopy and are presumed to be the elect group described in many of the Dead Sea Scrolls that were found hidden in nearby caves in 1947. The Essene identity of the people of the scrolls has been challenged, but in the absence of a serious contender, it has survived for 60 years. Pliny’s “solitary tribe,” however, does not correlate to the description given by Josephus, who speaks of Essenes throughout Judaea and never mentions the group by the Dead Sea.195 It may well be that Pliny knew not what else to call this group by the sea and set modern scholars on the wrong path by calling them Essenes, who were better known to Judaeans by another name. Until the matter is more clearly settled, many scholars distinguish the Dead Sea Scrolls community as Covenanters but otherwise included them among the wider group of Essenes. The Hebrew or Aramaic origin of the Greek name “Essenes” is not clear, but of several options, the most convincing are the words for “doers” (of Torah), or “healers.” In the case of the Essenes, the abundance of information, in contrast with the usual dearth, creates a happy industry for scholars trying to tie it all together and to reconcile apparent contradictions. Two points must be borne in mind when describing the Essenes. There were undoubtedly different small groups of Essenes in any given generation, and over the generations, views and practices of the Essenes changed as the need to adapt arose. Modern religious denominations provide a useful reality check when observing ancient denominations of a common religion. There is, however, a fairly consistent description of the Essenes from the three major sources, Josephus, Philo, and the Dead Sea Scrolls, and the common denominator would be community: “They shall eat in common and bless in common and deliberate in common.”196 Essenes lived in towns and villages throughout Judaea, but they kept themselves in a separated community, probably on the outskirts, or within a compound. Some Essenes lived in more remote and segregated places, such as the community by the Dead Sea, but we should not assume the Qumran community was the only


one of its kind. There may have been a small group in Jerusalem, or an Essene House, where they could reside when they came to the city. Josephus mentions an “Essene Gate” to Herod’s temple, where they probably entered with their offerings, and possibly with sacrifices. As we have seen, Herod the Great favored the Essenes, and during his reign they may have lived more prominently in Jerusalem.197 Some Essenes lived celibate lives; others married, though the married ones probably had sexual relations only for procreation and never copulated in Jerusalem, where they kept a heightened ritual purity. In some respects, Essenes tried to live like priests who functioned in the temple, but the purity rules they were able to adopt were only an effort, not a true imitation, because no one outside the temple could live like priests in the temple. Essenes avoided the use of oil, which was especially subject to impurity. They performed their bodily necessities in remote locations and bathed daily. As far as we know, only the Essenes had a rigid membership induction, which included a probation period, rituals, and oaths. The aspirant took a “binding oath to return with all his heart and soul to every commandment of the Law of Moses in accordance with all that has been revealed of it to the sons of Zadok, the Priests, Keepers of the covenant and Seekers of His will, and to the multitude of the men of their Covenant who together have freely pledged themselves to His truth and to walking in the way of His delight.”198 During communal worship Essenes sang hymns and offered up traditional prayers received from their ancestors. Part of the ancestral tradition included directing their morning prayers to the rising sun, an ancient priestly practice that was once condemned as sun worship, and no doubt was, but by this time the sun merely symbolized the power of the Creator.199 Reverence for the sun as representative of God has deep roots in Israelite history and may account for the east-west orientation of the temple.200 Meals were part of their communal worship. Certain “pure meals” required a heightened degree of ritual purity, and exclusion from participation was a means of punishment. Offenses ranged from disobedience to a superior, to spitting or guffawing foolishly.201 They also shared their possessions and practiced charity or even voluntary poverty. The degree of communal property varied among different groups. The monastic orders, such as Qumran, shared everything, while those in towns and villages contributed to a common fund that could be used to help poor and traveling Essenes.202 Essenes, like most people, worked the land and engaged in normal occupations. At Qumran they kept gardens and small livestock, apparently made pottery, and copied documents. They adopted and raised orphans and by this means supplemented their sparse reproduction. They probably educated their male youths and therefore were a more literate society than normal. The Qumran Essenes, and perhaps all Essenes, reserved an important place for priests in general, but Zadokite priests in particular. They called themselves “sons of Zadok,” although this may reflect the earlier generations when many of their members were Zadokite priests. It is difficult to know how the membership changed over the two centuries of their existence, but adoption of orphans, and others who joined, will have affected the numbers of priests and Zadokites.


The exclusivity of the Essenes was enhanced by their use of a solar calendar in contrast to the rest of the Jews. This meant the temple sacrifices and rituals for the pilgrimage feasts were celebrated on the wrong days, and therefore invalid. When the wrong calendar was coupled with the non-Zadokite high priests, the result was a cultic system beyond repair, and it invited divine intervention to wipe it out and start over. In the meantime, the Essene communities themselves were a substitute temple, and their prayers stood in place of sacrifices. In this respect, they provided an example of how to sustain the covenant in the absence of a temple, an example that would soon be needed by all Jews. Philo describes a group in terms similar to the Essenes called the Therapeutae, a name derived from therapeuō, either in the sense of “cure” because they profess an art of healing better than that current in the cities which cures on the bodies, while theirs treats also souls oppressed with grievous and well-nigh incurable diseases . . . or else in the sense of “worship,” because nature and the sacred laws have schooled them to worship the Self-existent who is better than the good, purer than the One and more primordial than the Monad.203

He claims they could be found everywhere but were most prominent in Egypt, and many dwelt along the shores of the Mareotic Lake near Alexandria. Men and women joined them, but all lived celibate lives. They ate a simple fare, no meat or wine, and only once a day when the sun had set. Some fasted three and six days at a time. They slept in their own huts but shared a common room for worship and contemplation. When they came together for discussions, a partition separated the men from the women, so each could be heard but not seen. Philo calls them citizens of heaven and of the world. Therapeutae and Essenes shared a number of similarities, which may suggest a common origin in time or a common disposition of soul. Both groups followed the Pentecontad calendar, seven periods of 50 days, followed by holy days, and the feast of Pentecost (Shavuot) was the chief feast. S2.2.3.4 Others S2.2.3.4.1 Fourth Philosophy Josephus mentions another group of Jews among the schools of thought who hold a Fourth Philosophy.204 The founders of this philosophy, as we saw earlier, were Judas the Galilean and a Pharisee called Zadok who led an insurrection against Rome. The cause of their insurrection was the Roman census of Judaea after Archelaus was deposed, which in their view infringed on the exclusive right of God to number his people. The Fourth Philosophy, in a nutshell, declares “No master but God alone.” Josephus says they are like the Pharisees in all things, except “they have a passion for liberty that is almost unconquerable, since they are convinced that God alone is their leader and master.”205 While it is clear this ideology did not want Roman rule, it is not clear how they expected God to be their master, and for this reason Josephus may have felt obliged to align them with the Pharisees. But he clearly wished to isolate them as the only philosophy that was prone to revolt. In that regard, it is commonly assumed Judas the Galilean and Zadok the Pharisee


were the founders of the later political movement Josephus calls the Zealots (proper noun), but Josephus makes no such connection. While there will be more zealous Jews who would rather Rome quitted Palestine, they do not, as far as we know, organize themselves into a viable party until the revolt against Rome in 66 c.e. At that time, however, the grandson of Judas the Galilean will be among the leaders. S2.2.3.4.2 Samaritans Another group with claims to speak for Israel is the Samaritans. Our ancient sources, including Josephus, are not consistent on the use of “Samaritan,” which could mean a group defined by geography, ethnicity, or religious beliefs. The only Hebrew Bible reference is 2 Kgs 17:29, ha-shomeronim, where it refers to inhabitants of Samaria and would be properly translated by the ethno-geographic term “Samarians.” The self-designation of Samaritans comes from the Hebrew word shomerim, the “keepers,” meaning those who keep the law. Josephus also uses the name Shechemites and notes that they called themselves Hebrews.206 Ben Sira (50:26) refuses to admit they are an ethnic nation, those “foolish people that dwell in Shechem.” Josephus also calls them Cutheans, in reference to the people from Cuthea brought to replace the exiled Israelites by Sargon II, thereby emphasizing their Gentile ancestry.207 The Samaritans had a rather different view of things. According to the Samaritan history, the original center of worship was at Shechem, where Joshua gathered the tribes to re-establish the covenant (Josh 24:1–28), but under the leadership of Eli, and the corruption of the sacrificial cult, the center of worship moved from Shechem to Shiloh, and then under David to Jerusalem, all part of one long regress from the original worship established by Moses.208 They could also make the case that many of the Israelites of the northern kingdom had remained when Samaria was conquered by Assyria and Israelites were sent into exile, because people were left to take care of the land, just as many Judaeans had remained during the Babylonian captivity.209 Samaritans had no desire to be identified with the Jews (unless the benefits were worth it), but they could rightly claim to be descendants of Israel. Samaritan “Judaism” revered only the Torah of Moses as authoritative, and they had begun keeping their own version of it since the days of the Maccabean revolt. They were monotheists who observed the sabbath, circumcision, and the pilgrimage feasts. They believed, however, the temple of God ought to be not in Jerusalem but on Mount Gerizim near Shechem, where Abel had built the first altar to God, and where God instructed Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. They no doubt carried a bitter memory against John Hyrcanus, who had destroyed their sanctuary and Shechem in 128 b.c.e., but they seem to have occasionally visited the temple in Jerusalem and were probably no more averse to it than many Essenes.

S2.3 The People Called Israel The insider’s view of what it meant to be a Jew is a complex matter, impossible to place in neat boxes; hence the old quip: Jews are like everybody else, only more


so. What Gentiles saw of the Jewish way of life, the Jews took for granted. They worshiped only their God, and most tried to follow the laws of God as custom bade. It was, after all, a way of life. Jews in the Diaspora saw themselves in relation to their non-Jewish neighbors and found their identity primarily in their ethnicity. We may assume this was true of Jews in Babylonia and elsewhere. Palestine Jews had different surroundings and saw themselves in a different light. Ethnicity faded into the general background, and different ideas of how Israel ought to walk appeared. Groups formed, the likes of which we do not see in the Diaspora. One mark of Jewish identity within Palestine that has impressed itself on scholars since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls is the diversity of Jewishness. Even the descriptions of Josephus on the three schools of philosophy, an insider’s view but delivered for outsiders’ consumption, paints over many a distinction—as scholars continue to discover—and magnifies their place in the scheme of things. To begin with, Josephus gives rough numbers of 6000 Pharisees, 4000 Essenes, and far fewer Sadducees (but then, the elite would have it no other way).210 All together these party members numbered fewer than 12,000, or less than 1 percent of the Jewish population of Palestine, which in turn comprised less than a third of the Jews in the Roman Empire. Their voices were no doubt heard, but real power lay in other hands, namely, kings, priests, and men of wealth. The Sadducees had clout, but only as wealth has clout, and were part of a much larger class of wealthy aristocrats, or the major priestly families with whom they met at exclusive gatherings and exchanged financial information. The Pharisees had a good reputation among the people, and the Essenes were also revered as especially pious. Of the three groups, Josephus says the Pharisees had the most influence with the people, and that was no doubt true, since the Essenes had withdrawn from the majority and the Sadducees were too aristocratic. But from this we cannot conclude that everyone did as the Pharisees instructed them.211 Most Jews, the “other 99 sheep in the fold,” went about their lives, satisfied, or not, with their expressions of piety but rather more concerned about good food, good sex, and a good roof over their heads. In theory a Jew could decide what he believed about God and the status of the Jewish people and how much of his ancestral inheritance he wished to follow. Although social constraint was a genuine fence that kept Jews within a local fold, there was considerable room to maneuver within the fold, and only those who habitually broke the laws qualified as outcasts and were called “sinners.” Under Roman rule in the Augustan era, Jewish leaders or communities had little coercive power to force their members to comply with customs, or even the laws of Moses. The Hasmoneans and Herod executed hundreds, but as far as we know it was not for breaking the laws of Moses. Even the execution of the 300 “apostates” in the story of 3 Maccabees required approval from the king. We hear of few cases of women undergoing the bitter water test for adultery, or stoning, or any such executions prescribed in the Torah. These things did occur, but either on the local level, where people took matters into their own hands, or done against imperial law and order, and therefore liable to imperial justice. Most people obeyed the customs and laws of Moses because they wanted to. It was, after all, their way of life. Most Jews held a basic theology, which may be described as


common theology. The division of Jewish life into “Judaisms” will not go far in describing the Diaspora Jews, who constituted the majority of all Jews. Insofar as there was no controlling authority on Jewish practices and beliefs, no Jewish papacy, we may agree that there was no single all-embracing and official Judaism. But in everyday parlance, we give names to fuzzier concepts. One knew if one was Jewish or not, and one’s conscience was still a fair guide.

S2.3.1 Common Practices The most obvious customs of the Jews were the worship of only one God, sabbath rest, diet restrictions, and the circumcision of males. Most Jews observed all four, but with varying degrees of stringency. The biblical ritual impurities associated with sexual intercourse, menstruation, and birth were removed by the mikveh, a ritual immersion. The caution Jews expressed about association with Gentiles had more to do with a fear of falling into idolatrous ways than ritual impurity. Intermarriage, however, was probably not uncommon, and often involved the conversion of the Gentile into the Jewish way of life. At this point, as far as we know, there was no conversion ceremony; it was assumed (or not) within a marriage ceremony. Jewish exclusivity was perhaps more obvious than for most ethnic groups, but then, as now, most people tended to associate with “their people” and got along with the others. Diaspora Jews cherished the right to maintain their own customs, a right guaranteed by Rome. Synagogue buildings flourished in the large cities of the Diaspora and probably had begun appearing in Judaea, although archaeological evidence is sparse. Jews met as a synagogue assembly in existing houses. On the sabbath, Torah was read and expounded to the community. Psalms and hymns were sung. We do not know when Jews began to recite the Shema twice daily, but it had probably become the practice by the second century around the time of the Maccabean revolt, when the practice of wearing the tefillin (phylacteries) began, as attested in the Letter of Aristeas (158–159). At about the same time we suppose that some Jews began to fulfill literally the directive of Deut 4:9 by placing a mezuzah, small box containing a parchment inscribed with Deut 6:4–9 and Deut 11:13–21, on the doorpost, a practice considered ancient by the time of Josephus. Daily prayers were a common practice among Essenes, and the Amidah, or its precursor, may have accompanied the recitation of the Shema. There is no evidence for communal prayers in unison, although Essenes may have done so.212 The annual pilgrimage feasts, Pesah, Shavuot, Sukkot, were the main cultic events of the year. Diaspora Jews tried to go up to Jerusalem at least once in a lifetime. Most Jews contributed the temple tribute (tax) of two shekels.

S2.3.2 Essential Theology The common creed was the Shema, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” (Deut 6:4).213 The nature of the belief in one God does not mean there


were no other gods, though it is unclear what power and authority other gods had and whether they were believed to be more than demons. The sovereignty of God in some form was accepted by most, if not all, Jews. The insoluble dilemma between divine providence and human free will was dealt with in different ways, using different concepts. The Greek Fate came part of Jewish theology, and as noted, Josephus makes it the key point of distinction between the Sadducees, Pharisees, and Essenes. The Golden Rule, taken from Lev 19:18, “you shall love your neighbor as yourself,” was also common creed. It was already part of Jewish wisdom in the time of Tobit, but the more famous expression is attributed to the Babylonian sage Hillel. The story is told how a Gentile seeking to convert to Judaism came to the other leading Pharisee, Shammai, and said, “Make me a proselyte, on condition that you teach me the whole Torah while I stand on one foot” (that is, briefly). Shammai repulsed the man’s impertinence with his rod. The Gentile went to Hillel with the same request. Hillel said to him, “Whatever is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor: that is the whole Torah, while the rest is the commentary thereof; go and learn it.”214 It is unlikely every Jew would agree that the Golden Rule was the whole of Torah, but it is also unlikely any Jew would omit it from the essence of Judaism. The two creeds mirror the Ten Commandments. The laws of God given to Moses were inscribed on two tablets. They covered the people’s relationship to God and the individual’s relationship to the rest of the people or society. The first is often described as the vertical responsibility, the second as the horizontal responsibility. The vertical tends toward ritual conduct, the horizontal tends toward moral conduct. Acknowledging the first tablet implies acceptance of the second tablet. That is, one cannot love God and not love one’s neighbor. Conversely, loving one’s neighbor is an expression of one’s love for God.

Part Three (14–138 c.e.)

Chapter 10

Birth of the Nazarenes (14–37 c.e.)

10.1 Rome: Tiberius The senate of Rome, upon the sworn testimony of a witness who saw the genius of Augustus ascend to heaven from the funeral pyre, voted deity upon the deceased emperor, Divus Augustus, and conferred upon Tiberius Claudius Nero the powers and titles of Augustus. At age 55, Tiberius had administered the provinces jointly with Augustus and was already weary of governing and loved his seclusion.1 Augustus had named him heir out of necessity, not choice, and Tiberius received it with equal ennui. He asked the senate to restore the Republic, but the senate dutifully refused the gesture and insisted he take the helm of the empire, for the passing of Augustus settled poorly in the provinces. They also wished to name a month after him, as they had done for Julius and Augustus Caesar, but he declined, with the dry warning that there might be thirteen Caesars, and what then would they do.2 He forbade the erection of temples or statues to him without his permission and a good reason. In this, he followed the Augustan modesty more stringently and received the blessings of the Jews, who were ever anxious about the need to express loyalty to Rome in the form of image deification. Many of the legions, however, refused to accept Tiberius and offered the throne to his nephew Germanicus, the most popular general in the empire. The Pannonian legions (in the Balkans) also mutinied, and Tiberius sent his son Drusus to suppress them. Germanicus refused the nomination by his troops and put down the mutiny in Germany. He then defeated the fierce German chieftain Arminius, and although Arminius escaped, Germanicus retrieved the eagle standards of the legions lost by Varus. Germanicus returned to a triumph in Rome and was given full command of the East. He settled affairs with Artabanus II of Parthia on the succession of kingship in Armenia and formed two new provinces in Asia Minor, Cappadocia and Commagene, extending the empire to the Euphrates. In 19 Germanicus suddenly took ill and died. Various people, including Tiberius, were suspected of poisoning him, but nothing was proved. Thereafter, except for a minor revolt in Gaul, Tiberius kept the empire at peace. He was an able ruler of the empire, but he was never loved by Rome. His frugality set the empire back on a firm financial foundation, but his restraints on the theater and gladiatorial games made him unpopular with the people. By 21, he began


delegating responsibilities of government to Aelius Sejanus, a trusted adviser and prefect of the Praetorian Guard. In 23 Tiberius’s son, Drusus the younger, died, and although Tiberius had thought him unfit to rule, the death left him ever more morose. Sejanus began to undermine the position of Agrippina the Elder’s sons, who were likely heirs. In 27 Tiberius toured southern Italy, and while visiting the island of Capri, perhaps at the suggestion of Sejanus, he remained and never returned to Rome. Sejanus gradually gained more power until all imperial communication between Tiberius and the senate passed through his hands. Tiberius had appointed him commander of the Praetorian Guard, and permitted all ten cohorts to be stationed near Rome. Soon Tiberius was emperor in name only. Sejanus removed many of his enemies in the senate by the law of treason and installed his own men in positions of power in preparation to seize the throne. There was apparently a widespread view among the Jews that Sejanus hated the entire Jewish people and was behind the measures Tiberius took against Jews in Rome. One reason for the malevolence of Sejanus, according to Philo, is that he knew the Jews were very loyal to Tiberius and would defend the emperor against any treachery by him.3 The treachery, in any case, soon became apparent to Tiberius. In 31 Tiberius chose Sejanus as co-consul, but when his birthday was declared a holiday and golden statues of Sejanus appeared in Rome, Tiberius heeded a few close friends who warned him of the designs of Sejanus. Tiberius sent a secret letter to the senate denouncing Sejanus, and he was summoned to appear. Never had the senate acted so efficiently. Sejanus was tried, found guilty, and executed by nightfall. His body was dragged through the streets to the cheers of Rome. Tiberius spent his last 6 years eliminating his perceived enemies. He had a ring of villas with dungeons and torture chambers built around Capri. If his early historians can be believed, he devoted himself to lecherous pursuits with young boys, even as his body decayed from disease.

10.2 The Jews 10.2.1 Roman Diaspora Judaea was calm during the first decade of Tiberius’s reign. The Jews in Rome, however, underwent another period of tension and uncertainty. Tiberius had adopted the moral reforms of Augustus and dreamed of guiding Roman society back to its dimly remembered glory days, a time before the influx of foreigners. In 19 a certain Jew who fled Judaea on account of some crime, a complete scoundrel according to Josephus, came to Rome and took advantage of the growing interest in Jewish monotheism, particularly among wealthy matrons. He played the part of a sage, and with the help of three confederates not a whit more noble than himself, met with the wife of the senator Saturnius, lady Fulvia, who was sympathetic to Judaism. After impressing her with his knowledge, he persuaded her to send purple and gold to the temple in Jerusalem. She gave them a substantial gift, which they promptly embezzled. Saturnius reported this to Tiberius, and it was just the

Birth of the Nazarenes 189

outrage needed to take action against the Jewish community, in particular the many proselytes to Judaism among Roman citizens, all of which sapped old Rome of its former glory. Tiberius ordered the Jewish community expelled from Rome. Four thousand Jews, mostly proselytes, were conscripted for military service and sent to Sardinia, ostensibly to rid the island of brigands but more likely to rid Rome of the converts. This disruption could hardly have been complete and can have lasted only a short while, for the Jewish community of Rome soon returned to its normal strength. Nevertheless, it provided a reminder of the tenuous condition of Jews in the empire.4

10.2.2 Jews of Babylonia and Syria While Tiberius ruled Rome, Artabanus II (10–38) ruled Parthia. Armenia remained the primary, and often only, territorial bone of contention between the empires. Artabanus attempted to place his son on the throne of Armenia but failed. Thereafter, rather than engage Rome directly, Artabanus sought to strengthen his own position among the princes in Persia by reforming his government. During this reform, he used the support of lesser princes against the more powerful ones. At this time we learn of the rise of a Jewish princedom under two colorful Jewish brothers, Anileus and Asineus, natives of Nehardaea, a Jewish city near the Euphrates north of the capital city of Ctesiphon.5 They were apprenticed as weavers to a Parthian, and after he whipped them for arriving late to work, they fled their master and stole a number of weapons from his house. Thereafter, they became cattle drivers and gathered a number of other disaffected young men, whom they armed. Soon they demanded and received tribute (protection money) from surrounding cattlemen, and by this means they built up a small army. The influence of Anileus and Asineus reached the attention of King Artabanus. The satrap of Babylonia took up the matter and sent a military detachment against the Jewish brothers. The Parthian soldiers thought to attack the Jews on the sabbath, assuming they would not fight, and approached the Jews somewhat casually. When Asineus learned of the tactic, he took advantage of the Parthian nonchalance and engaged and routed them on the sabbath. Artabanus, surprised at the Jewish bravado, decided to gain their loyalty and play them off against other Parthian nobles. He offered them amnesty, giving them gifts and prestige and the responsibility of keeping the king’s peace in their district. Asineus, clearly the military leader of the two, then built new forts and strengthened older defenses in the area. Other Parthian princes began paying their respects, and for 15 years, probably 20–35 c.e., Asineus enjoyed the dignity and authority of a Parthian prince, no doubt including the admiration of Jews throughout Mesopotamia. In due course, however, power went to their heads. Anileus, perhaps emboldened by the ancient Davidic model, became obsessed with the beautiful wife of a Parthian prince. He accused the prince of being an enemy of the state, and a “dead man.” He engaged and killed the Parthian in battle and took his widow for himself. She continued to worship her own gods, and this brought Anileus into disfavor


with his Jewish subjects. Asineus urged Anileus to divorce her, but she managed to have Asineus poisoned, which left her husband the sole authority. The downfall of Anileus came when he plundered the territory of another prince, Mithradates, a brother-in-law of Artabanus and member of the old Parthian nobility. When Mithradates came against Anileus, the latter again surprised the Parthians by attacking them on a sabbath. Anileus captured Mithradates, and because he was related to the king, spared his life but nevertheless paraded him around naked on an ass, an act considered to be the highest disgrace by the Parthians. When Mithradates was released, his wife, daughter of the king, vowed that she would divorce him unless he took vengeance on the Jews for his disgrace. Mithradates gathered a larger army, and when Anileus learned of it, he decided to take the initiative again. Many Jews joined Anileus and his men thinking they could profit in the booty of his victory. But this time Mithradates routed them decisively, killing thousands of Jews. Anileus escaped, however, and gathered a new army of Jews, and from the protection of the city of Nehardea he began pillaging the villages of the Babylonians. The Babylonians demanded the Nehardeans give Anileus over to them, but they were not strong enough to do so. Finally, after discovering the location of Anileus and his men, the Babylonians attacked him at night while they were drunk and asleep and put an end to the Jewish prince of Babylonia. With the threat of Anileus gone, the Babylonians began a widespread persecution of the Jews around Nehardea, forcing them to migrate to Seleucia-on-theTigris, where they dwelt safely for the next 5 years. Life in the city of Seleucia was marked by a latent discord between the Greeks and the Syrians, but when the Jews joined the fray, siding with the Syrians, the Greeks decided they preferred the Syrians and made peace with them, on the grounds that both hated the Jews more than each other, on account of the peculiar customs of that people. Josephus says that the new alliance of Greeks and Syrians fell upon the Jews of Seleucia and killed upwards of 50,000. If this is anything like the truth, it will have been the first Jewish pogrom in the East of the same magnitude as the one soon to occur in Alexandria, Egypt.6 The entire story is a reminder of full-fledged Jewish life carrying on behind the veil in Parthia.

10.2.3 Palestine Tiberius installed Valerius Gratus as the new prefect of Judaea (15–26). In 18 Gratus appointed as high priest Joseph surnamed Caiaphas, and by his long tenure (18–36), Caiaphas proved himself an astute mediator between Rome and the people of Judaea. That same year, Herod Antipas began building his new city along the southwestern shore of Lake Gennesaret, which he named Tiberias in honor of the new emperor. In building the city foundations, however, workers came across numerous sepulchers that had to be dug up and removed, and this rendered the entire area subject to corpse uncleanness. Most Jews refused to dwell in the new city, and Antipas thereafter depended on strangers, or the less scrupulous Galileans, and poor people,


to settle the city. He offered free housing and tracts of land and brought in some by force. Despite the difficulty in populating it, the city was magnificent and worthy of Herodian ambitions. He built a stadium and a palace, each adorned with animal images to the offense of traditional Jews but appreciated by all others. As a true Hellenistic city, it was governed by a council of 600 and other officials. Antipas also built a large prayer house (proseucha), where the Jewish citizens could assemble.7 At some point late in the second decade, Herod Antipas journeyed to Rome, perhaps to curry favor with Sejanus and seek permission to mint his own coins. On the way he visited a half-brother, son of Miriamme II, who according to Josephus was named Herod but according to the Gospel of Mark was named Philip, and possibly his name was Herod Philip, by which he is now generally known and is thus distinguished from Philip the tetrarch. Herod Philip was married to Herodias, the daughter of Aristobulus Herod and therefore the niece of Antipas. Antipas fell in love with Herodias and arranged to have her divorced from his half-brother so that he might take her to wife. She agreed, provided he divorce his present wife, the daughter of Aretas IV, king of Nabataea. This arrangement required Roman approval, so Antipas added it to his requests. Word of his pending action reached his wife, and she promptly fled to her father’s kingdom. Antipas received permission for the divorce and remarriage, which occurred soon after his return. As a result, the political alliance between Antipas and Aretas fell upon the rocks and came to war by 36, in which Antipas was soundly defeated. Another Herodian, Agrippa (I) son of Aristobulus Herod and Berenice (daughter of Herod’s sister Salome), emerged as a player among the ambitious aristocracy. He had been sent to Rome for his education at age six, just before the death of his grandfather, Herod the Great. As a young man in the imperial court, he made friends with Claudius, a future emperor, and Drusus, the son of Tiberius. His chief talent seems to have been in the art of a lavish lifestyle, so that he quickly depleted his allowance and piled up debts. When Drusus died prematurely in 23, Agrippa lost his support in the imperial court, and by 29 he returned to Palestine.8 Antipas gave his dejected kinsman a minor position as overseer of the markets in his new city of Tiberias, but Agrippa soon resigned the post as beneath his dignity and sought influence with the governor of Syria, Flaccus, who took him into his entourage. Always in need of money, Agrippa accepted a bribe to influence a border dispute between Sidon and Damascus, and when it came to the ears of Flaccus, Agrippa found himself again destitute of friends and money, with only creditors seeking his company. With the help of his mother and wife, Agrippa managed to raise loans in Ptolemais, and particularly in Alexandria, where Alexander, the brother of Philo, funded him. From there he returned to Rome in the spring of 36, first presenting himself to Tiberius on Capri and then making friends with Gaius Caligula. This pursuit of influence was expensive, so Agrippa continued borrowing against his future prospects and spending on the best guarantor of his prospects, Gaius Caligula. Such blatant sycophancy, and an indiscreet remark that he wished Caligula would soon come to the throne, alarmed Tiberius, and Agrippa found himself in prison on a charge of treason, where he languished for 6 months until the death of the emperor.


In 26, Tiberius, most likely upon the counsel of Sejanus, replaced Valerius Gratus as prefect of Judaea by another equestrian, Pontius Pilate (26–36). Josephus marks the start of Roman maladministration to Pilate, and Philo in Alexandria also uses Pilate as an example of how Rome should not govern the Jews. Soon after taking up residence in Caesarea, Pilate rotated his troops and sent to Jerusalem a cohort whose military standards bore the effigy of Caesar. He did so by night because he was aware of the affront such standards would have, and when the idolatrous standards were seen glimmering in the morning light from the Antonia fortress alongside the temple mount, hue and cry erupted. A throng hastened from Jerusalem to Caesarea, where they appealed to Pilate that he remove this insult. Pilate refused to yield, but after six days of the Judaeans lying prostrate in the city he agreed to listen to their arguments. He set up his tribunal in the stadium and secretly lined it with armed soldiers. While the people pleaded with him, he ordered troops to emerge swords drawn. The people again fell to their knees and bared their necks, declaring themselves prepared to die. Pilate balked and ordered the offensive standards removed.9 A second incident involved taking money from the temple treasury to pay for aqueducts that would carry a new water supply to Jerusalem. In itself, this was a fine gesture, something Herod would have done, but use of sacred funds was not the way to pay for it. Why did they pay taxes, after all? When the populace of Jerusalem assembled to protest, Pilate dispatched soldiers in plain Jewish dress concealing clubs to mingle with the crowds, and when the people refused to disperse, he gave the signal, and the soldiers came after them, inflicting a harsher blow than required or intended, and many died.10 Philo described another incident (though some believe it is the same as the standards affair) in which Pilate placed golden votive shields bearing only the name of the craftsman and the name of the one honored in the old palace of Herod. Again, the multitudes found it objectionable in the holy city and threatened Pilate, pointing out that Tiberius wished all of their laws to be honored, and if he did not remove them, they would send a delegation to the emperor. According to Philo, Pilate relented out of fear that delegation would expose all the rest of his conduct, “the outrages and wanton injuries, the executions without trial constantly repeated, the ceaseless and supremely grievous cruelty.”11 Pilate’s own side to these stories would help balance the affairs, but in Jewish memory, he was the first in a long line of bad governors. Nor was it just the opinion of Jews. In 36, the tenth year of office, Pilate quelled an uprising by the Samaritans with excessive force. An unnamed Samaritan charismatic, another prophet following their own Mosaic tradition that a prophet would come out of the tribe of Levi to discover the utensils of the first temple, summoned a group of believers to ascend Mount Gerizim, where he promised to show the golden utensils hidden by Moses. The crowds grew, and before the prophet could fulfill his destiny, soldiers blocked their ascent and many died in the confrontation. The Samaritans appealed to Vitellius, governor of Syria, and their complaint was the last straw. Vitellius sent a temporary administer of Judaea and ordered Pilate to return to Rome to give account of himself before the emperor. Pilate obeyed, but by the time he reached Rome, Tiberius had died, on March 16, 37.12


10.3 The Nazarenes Pontius Pilate earned his place in the histories of Josephus and Philo as the first in a long line of bad Roman governors of Judaea, but due to the rise of two Jews named John and Jesus, Pilate’s immortality was assured. Josephus reports on both of these men, though he does not seem to know a connection between them. Both are portrayed as righteous martyrs at the hands of the Jewish and Roman leaders of Judaea during the administration of Pilate. Both had popular followings, though only the followers of Jesus survived as an identifiable group when Josephus wrote of them (ca. 95).

10.3.1 John the Baptist Josephus says John, surnamed the Baptist, was a good man, known for his piety and preaching. He exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, practice justice, and as a testament to their piety, to join in baptism. This baptism, Josephus took pains to inform his readers, was not to obtain forgiveness for sins but as a visible “consecration of the body implying that the soul was already thoroughly cleansed by right behavior (dikaiosunē = righteousness, justice).”13 John had all the trappings of an oracular prophet of old, and his eloquence aroused the masses to an extent that alarmed Herod Antipas. Prophets and kings had a long history of antagonism. The tetrarch, fearing potential sedition with so much power at the command of one man, imprisoned John in the citadel of Macherus, and in due course put him to death. When Antipas later lost a battle against Aretas IV in 36, the people said it was God’s revenge upon him for killing John the Baptist. John was a rural priest, possibly an Essene, who revived the tradition of the alienated prophet in the days of old. He wore a rough woven camel hair tunic and leather sash, and he lived off of wild locusts and honey. His appearance out of the wilderness brought to mind the legendary Elijah, whose return the prophet Malachi had promised: “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes” (4:5). He gathered disciples, and from the banks of the Jordan River John delivered of himself a righteous indignation against the social conditions of his day, in particular the Jerusalem aristocracy. He castigated the elite “brood of vipers,” called for social justice, and prophesied the judgment of the wrath of God. Repentant souls were baptized, and to them John gave specific instructions for economic justice: that tax collectors take only their due, that soldiers not abuse their power and be content with their wages, and all who have some wealth to share with those who have none.14 John had more to say. He promised another baptism, one of the Holy Spirit and fire, at the hand of one mightier than himself who was to come. If Josephus was aware of this aspect to John’s ministry, he left it out for good reason, since the purpose of his history was to show how righteous and peaceful the Jewish people are. Eschatology that challenged authority had virtually no place in his account. Nevertheless, John the Baptist had awakened the populace of Judaea to the


prophetic voice of God, something the generation had not known. It was at this moment of anticipation that Jesus of Nazareth appeared on the horizon one day while John the Baptizer preached and baptized in the Jordan River. Confident of his inner righteousness, he joined others in the baptismal rite, thereby identifying himself with the social confrontation of John.

10.3.2 Jesus of Nazareth At this time there appeared Jesus, a wise man. For he was a doer of startling deeds, a teacher of people who received the truth with pleasure. And he gained a following both among many Jews and among many of Greek origin. And when Pilate, because of an accusation made by the leading men among us, condemned him to the cross, those who had loved him previously did not cease to do so. And up until this very day the tribe of Christians (named after him) has not died out.15

The elemental view of Jesus given by Josephus, with the Christian interpolations removed, represents what might have been known in the upper echelons of Jewish, or Gentile, society toward the end of the first century. That Jesus was known as a doer of startling (paradoxos) deeds placed him among the miracle workers, or magicians, which by itself would not have been astonishing because Jews were famous as exorcists. People may have had other views of Christians, but the actual knowledge of Jesus was very limited, if basically favorable. Josephus does not appear to be aware of the Gospel traditions, yet he knows Christians are followers of Jesus and elsewhere refers to “Jesus who was called Christ.” When the Gospel evidence is sifted through the fine mesh of historical scrutiny, it fills out the terse statement of Josephus, yielding a picture of Jesus that is fairly clear and historically confident. Jesus was born in Palestine probably toward the end of the reign of Herod the Great. He grew up in Galilee, in the village of Nazareth; his mother’s name was Mary, and his father was Joseph. He had brothers named James (Jacob), Simon, Judas, Joseph, and sisters whose names are not recorded. Jesus was baptized by John the Baptizer and may have been a disciple of John for a while, but after John’s imprisonment he began his own, somewhat different, ministry: besides proclaiming the advent of the kingdom of God, he healed sick people and cast out demons as evidence of the power of God already at work in his person. He designated twelve disciples to be his inner circle, symbolic of the perfected people of God, hence the kingdom of God. Jesus confined his ministry to Israel, teaching in the towns and villages, avoiding the cities. He argued with other religious leaders, particularly Pharisees and scribes, about the Torah of Moses. Like the Pharisees, as evidenced by a number of early rabbis, he taught through parables. Around 30 or 33, during the administration of Pontius Pilate and the reign of Herod Antipas, Jesus went up to Jerusalem with his disciples for the Feast of Passover. He confronted the temple authorities over the exercise of their authority and created a public disturbance at a very delicate time. In response, Jesus was arrested and interrogated by the council of the high priest Caiaphas. The chief priests, who had access to Pilate, handed Jesus


over to Roman jurisdiction for execution. Pilate, after a cursory inquiry, authorized the crucifixion of Jesus, which was immediately carried out. This much biographical information already places Jesus of Nazareth among a select minority of historical figures in antiquity whose lives can be confidently reconstructed. We have a stout skeletal frame on which to hang a remarkably detailed, if enigmatic, historical portrait. As the noted historian Sherwin-White has remarked, the evidence for Jesus of Nazareth is better than for the emperor Tiberius, and no one doubts that a reasonably accurate history of Tiberius may be written.16 But it is not the life and ministry of Jesus that propelled him to the forefront of western history as the most influential Jew of all time; rather, his claim to the authority of God, his conflict with the Jewish leaders leading to his death in Jerusalem, and the movement that sprang up around his memory are the pillars on which his historic persona stands. Because Jesus left no extant writings, we depend on the memories of those who knew him and the oral traditions they preserved.17 With few exceptions, that is the nature of ancient history. Jesus, as remembered, epitomized the covenant relationship between Israel and God in the twofold command: Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.18 Hillel the Elder had summarized the Torah as “Whatever is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor: that is the whole Torah, while the rest is the commentary thereof; go and learn it.”19 Jesus likewise said, “Whatever you wish that men would do to you, do so to them; for this is the Torah and the Prophets.”20 Hillel’s approach was more realistic, since it takes the form of law, that is, prohibition. Jesus’ approach was idealistic and demanded initiative. For such statements, however, no one would have been crucified. Therefore, the cause of his death and the relationship between his death and the movement that bore his name become the focal point of his place in Jewish history. Why was Jesus crucified? Why did his crucifixion become the cause célèbre of a new Jewish movement? After the arrest of John the Baptizer, Jesus withdrew to Galilee, where he began calling his own disciples.21 In Capernaum, he taught in the synagogue and astonished people by his words and sense of authority. He healed sick people, exorcized demons, and ordered a man cured of leprosy to go show himself to a priest and give the sacrifice payment according to the Torah. His fame spread. Those who had known him, perhaps from childhood, were more than a little perplexed at this new prophet. Some were hostile; others thought he had gone mad, that he was “beside himself,” and they urged his family to take him into custody. But Jesus showed little sign of hesitation or uncertainty. In the eyes of the crowds he came across as confident and single-minded, as a prophet of God ought to be. Tradition consistently remarks that Jesus taught with authority, that is, his own authority, not as the scribes who relied on the authority of past masters of the law. The source of authority among Jews, as elsewhere, was antiquity, and it was expressed by quoting earlier authorities, if possible, back to the original founder of the Torah, Moses. Scribes and Pharisees, Philo and Josephus, all point to the antiquity of the Torah as proof of its authority, for its endurance is the mark of truth. Jesus quoted no one, though when debating others he did use Scripture for proof texts. Like a prophet, like John the Baptist, he spoke for God afresh, yet unlike a prophet or John the Baptist,


Jesus claimed a unique relationship with God: “All things have been delivered to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and any one to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.”22 Jesus intentionally confronted his observers. When a paralytic man was brought to him on a stretcher, Jesus said, “Your sins are forgiven.” The people marveled, “Is this a new teaching?” It was at least unusual, since the prerogative to pronounce God’s forgiveness after repentance and sacrifice belonged to the priest, and at worst it was blasphemy, for assuming authority greater than Torah. Jesus then told the paralytic to rise up and walk, demonstrating that his authority to pronounce sins forgiven came from God, who alone can heal. The challenge had been laid at the feet of experts in Torah. Pharisees heard about Jesus and may have come to observe him. They found him at table with his latest disciple, a tax collector named Matthew Levi and his equally unsavory friends. The Pharisees asked Jesus why he, a religious leader, shared the intimacy of table fellowship with sinners, that is, apostates or those who deliberately broke the law such as prostitutes and brigandish tax collectors. When Jesus heard of their question, he gave an answer they will have found satisfying: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” Later, they questioned him about fasting, a popular form of piety, and which Pharisees, it is claimed, did twice a week. Jesus gave one of his many enigmatic dictums: “No man puts new wine in old wineskins.” So, Jesus might be introducing innovations, which by their very nature are suspect. Continued observation was demanded. Of the three philosophies of religion in Judaism, the Essenes go unmentioned in the Gospel records, the Sadducees play a minor opposition role, but the Pharisees and the professional class of scribes are the principal foil and worthy opponents.23 The reason is simple: birds of a feather flock together. If Luke is accurate, it was Pharisees who warned Jesus that Herod Antipas was out to kill him as he had killed John the Baptist. Pharisees invited Jesus to table, which showed a high degree of respect and familiarity, for they were most fastidious with whom they kept table fellowship. Jesus paid the Pharisees a prestigious compliment: “They sit in the seat of Moses, therefore act as they instruct you.” Given the later antagonism between followers of Jesus and Pharisees, the positive statements about Jesus and the Pharisees should be taken as gospel. It is the negative statements, particularly the charge of “hypocrites,” that require balance.24 Apart from the priestly aristocracy, the Pharisees had the most reason to understand Jesus, and if required, to oppose his teachings, so it is not surprising that the Pharisees are the main opponents of Jesus. The conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees found in the Gospels may be accepted as essentially accurate, if highly stylized and theologized, portraits of a relationship that falls within the bounds of verisimilitude. This caveat on the historicity of the Gospel conflict stories is especially necessary of the following to be mentioned; for it is almost certainly a later literary creation (a rather poor one at that and repaired somewhat by Matthew). The issue at stake, however, was probably disputed quite often; namely, the sort of work that is permitted on the sabbath.25 On a sabbath, the disciples picked and chewed on


ears of grain as they passed by a field, no doubt a common act for common peasants. In the view of some Pharisees, this was reaping, an unlawful breach of the prohibition against work, which God ordained for all time.26 Did Jesus countenance such unlawful actions? He replied, “The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.”27 A similar verdict is made by later rabbis: “The sabbath is handed over to you, but you are not handed over to the sabbath.”28 The response of Jesus was not a contravention of Torah but a judgment that such actions were not work according to Torah. It was a matter subject to dispute, and he reserved the right to pronounce his own interpretation based on the purpose of the sabbath. A second sabbath dispute occurred when Jesus healed a man with a withered hand. Was healing permitted on the sabbath? Had Essene Covenanters been present, they would have strongly objected to the action. Although the Pharisees would permit any life-saving action on the sabbath, they too thought such healing, like elective surgery, should be kept for the other six days.29 For Jesus, any good deed is permitted on the sabbath because it brings praise to God. All very well, but in the view of some Pharisees, Jesus was counseling others to profane the sabbath, and the law was quite clear on this point: the penalty was death.30 There was a disagreement on divorce, a contentious debate among first-century Jews. Jesus prohibited divorce for any reason (according to Mark), with the exception of adultery (according to Matthew). His view was closer to the Shammai school of the Pharisees than the school of Hillel and identical (in Mark) with the Covenanters of the Dead Sea Scrolls, who held the view that a man is “caught in fornication twice for taking a second wife while the first is alive.” Both Jesus and the Covenanters appeal to Gen 1:27 for scriptural authority: “male and female [in the singular] created he them.”31 Another point of disagreement concerned observing the traditions of the elders on the matter of ritual cleanness. Why did the disciples of Jesus eat with hands ritually defiled (unwashed)? Jesus dismissed ritual purity (handwashing) as irrelevant because he was interested in inner purity: “There is nothing outside a man which by going into him can defile him; but the things which come out of a man are what defile him.” Jesus never suggested that priests should not obey the purity laws laid down in Torah for them, or that any Jews should not obey the purity laws incumbent on them or live their lives according to the heightened purity demanded of priests but not laymen if they so desired (and as many of the Pharisees tried to do). If Mark’s interpretation of Jesus’ teaching on purity is accurate, that by it “he declared all foods clean,” then Jesus would have dealt a serious blow to the authority of the Torah by overturning a number of Mosaic regulations. But for a number of sound historical reasons, the Markan insertion must be tossed out as contrary to what the historical Jesus believed and taught; most significantly, it does not surface at his trial, nor was it remembered by his brother James or his disciple Peter during the dispute over sharing a meal with Gentiles in the following decades.32 A conflict of a different, and more serious, nature arose sometime after Jesus had appointed his twelve disciples. The miracles Jesus performed placed him in a recognized position of power, either as saint or sorcerer. To those who needed help,


and they will have been legion in an age of rudimentary medical knowledge, Jesus was a saint, a hasid, even an elevated hasid, a “Son of God.” But the power to heal and to cast out demons was stock and trade of charlatans and sorcerers. Was Jesus either of those? Is it the genuine work of God? Scribes came down from Jerusalem and concluded that Jesus was a sorcerer, that he cast out demons by the prince of demons, Beelzebul. This verdict may have been a malicious slander, or a verdict based on their observation that he did not otherwise meet their expectations of a truly pious man. Had he met their expectations he may have qualified as a hasid and joined a select group miracle workers among Pharisees or Essenes, recognized to be pious and given room to oppose the religious hierarchy because of their obvious intimacy with God, such as Honi the Circle Drawer, whom Simeon b. Shetah had been afraid to excommunicate, or Simon the Essene who foretold the demise of Archelaus, or even Hanina b. Dosa, a later contemporary of Jesus much revered in rabbinic traditions.33 Jesus and his disciples did not fast as tradition required, they did not observe the sabbath laws as expected, nor did they obtain a cleanliness demanded of piety, and Jesus thrived among the lowest class of the people that paid little attention to piety. Jesus responded to the accusation with his famous analogy that a house divided against itself cannot stand. If demons are casting out demons, they are doomed. He then warned his accusers that they were in danger of blaspheming against the Holy Spirit of God, of attributing the work of God to Satan, an unforgivable sin. Jesus taught that compliance with the Torah was not a sufficient requirement for entering the kingdom of God. More was required. The Gospel of Matthew contains an important statement of Jesus: “Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfill them” (5:17). The authenticity and precise meaning of this declaration are disputed, but even if the statement is a Matthean composition, it is not at odds with what Jesus did say and remains within the bounds of verisimilitude, because much of his conflict with religious leaders concerned interpretations of Scripture, not its abandonment.34 Torah neither commanded hand washing nor prohibited healing on the sabbath, or random plucking of grain. That some Jews may have interpreted Torah in these ways merely places Jesus within the milieu of Torah interpretation of Jewish Palestine. Jesus may have urged his fellow Jews to return to a simpler faith, a simpler life, a simpler time. But in the context of the rest of the teaching of Jesus, it also seems clear that he intended to fulfill Torah by lifting it to a higher level in keeping with Jeremiah’s prophecy of the law written on their hearts. The thrust of the classic distillation of his teaching contained in the Sermon on the Mount, in which his claim to fulfill the Torah and the Prophets occurs, points to the higher level. Where the Torah said, do not kill, Jesus taught “Do not hate”; where Torah said, do not commit adultery, Jesus taught, “Do not desire to commit adultery.” He preached Torah according to his understanding of the will of God and insisted God’s will be done on earth as it was in heaven. The following exchange must have happened in various ways more than once on his travels, though perhaps not always in such an agreeable manner. Mark sets it in the temple porticoes, just days before his death:

Birth of the Nazarenes 199 And one of the scribes came up and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that Jesus answered them well, asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” And the scribe said to him, “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that he is one, and there is no other but he; and to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” And when Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”35

The agreement between Jesus and the scribe is the essence of their faith. Being “not far,” yet not there, points to the added demand of Jesus concerning the kingdom of God. If one truly loved God, the command to love others would be obeyed.36 It meant acceptance of the higher ethic that Jesus taught, which would mean an acceptance of the scribe to follow Jesus as a disciple. If the second commandment were obeyed, Israel would be completely different. The kingdom of God was a reversal of all earthly kingdoms, whether Persian, Hellenistic, Hasmonean, or Roman. The kingdom of God turns kingdoms of the earth on their heads. The humble are at the peak of nearness to God, and the proud are cast down to grovel in the dust; the former “first” shall be the new “last,” and the last shall be first. This reversal was not a human endeavor, since all such human kingdoms had failed; rather, it was the work of God. According to Jesus, however, all hierarchy, including the religious elite, will be overturned. The underlying assumption is that the religious hierarchy, though filling a divine commission and observing divine commands, had failed miserably. We should not be surprised that, given the benefit of the doubt, some Pharisees, along with certain scribes and a good many priests and Sadducees, felt themselves duty bound before God to destroy the influence of Jesus, and if necessary, destroy him. Such was the view of Saul of Tarsus toward the early followers of Jesus—the only known Pharisee, with the possible exception of Josephus, who left writings. Other scribes and Pharisees defended Jesus, and some joined the movement after his death. No other picture would be more realistic. But dispute over interpretation of Torah does not seem to have been a factor in his death. Indeed, it has been cogently argued that Jesus “had no substantial dispute about the law, nor . . . any substantial conflict with the Pharisees.”37 The death of Jesus concerned his challenge to all human authorities: the temple hierarchy, Herod Antipas, and by extension, the rule of Rome. After the death of John the Baptist, Jesus probably knew his own life was forfeit. According to Luke, Pharisees warned Jesus that Herod Antipas was looking to kill him, and likely for the same reason John had been executed, that Jesus was critical of the king’s leadership (Mark), and Jesus was becoming too influential (Josephus). Jesus is said to have replied, “Go tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures, today, tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.’ ”38 When the time had come, and for his own reasons, Jesus set his sights on Jerusalem during the Feast of Passover. The Gospel tradition preserves three deliberate and provocative


actions of Jesus during the final week of his life: he entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey to the acclaim of a crowd; he went to the temple and attacked the money changers, and by extension the authority of the ruling priests; and he predicted the destruction of the temple complex. The second action is almost certainly historical, and as an anchor, it argues for the historicity of the third, and probably the first. Approaching Jerusalem, Jesus mounted a donkey, and surrounded by his disciples, which were far more than the inner twelve, he entered the city to the shouts of “Hosanna (God Saves)! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the kingdom of our father David that is coming! Hosanna in the highest!” It has been argued that the incident is a cult legend, designed to fulfill the messianic passage of Zech 9:9: Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on an ass, on a colt the foal of an ass.

But the Gospel of Mark, which contains a more primitive form, does not make the association, as do Matthew and John.39 The crowd of disciples announced Jesus as one who comes in the name of God, in anticipation of the coming kingdom of God. This fits smoothly with everything else we know about Jesus, especially his sense of prophetic authority and confrontational style, and Mark’s inclusion of the incident represents a genuine primitive oral tradition. Whatever may have been the intention of Jesus or the crowd, the act was confrontational. His attack on the temple, known as the temple cleansing, has normally been interpreted as a prophetic assault on corruption by those who facilitate the sacrificial system. The house of prayer for all nations had become a den of thieves. Yet, his action hardly disrupted the corruption, such as it may have been, and he appears to have acted alone, without his disciples, perhaps to spare them the possible repercussions of arrest and punishment. A second motive fits the genre of a prophetic symbolic act, such as Jeremiah’s yoke symbolizing the imminent destruction of Jerusalem and the advent of Babylonian rule, or in recent memory, the Pharisee disciples who tore down Herod’s golden eagle, at the cost of their lives. If Jesus meant his action to be symbolic, then it symbolized the need for the temple of vainglorious Herod to be destroyed, so that God would raise up a new temple for the new kingdom. The expectation that in the end times God would build a new temple circulated among different groups, such as those behind the Enoch traditions and the Covenanters who kept the Temple Scroll.40 The two motives are not, however, mutually exclusive. Jeremiah did both: he predicted the destruction of the first temple and castigated the corruption that went on in its precincts.41 In the long run, the symbolic act of the temple destruction was the more important motive and supports the third confrontation, his prediction of its fall. For a few days Jesus taught in the temple porticoes. He apparently confirmed his reputation for teaching on his own authority and compared his ministry with that of John the Baptist. When asked by what authority he taught, Jesus replied in good form with a question: “Was the baptism of John from heaven or from men?” When they chose to not answer, he replied, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I do


these things.” While on the temple mount, one of his disciples, who probably had never been to Jerusalem, remarked on the magnificent buildings and the huge stones. Jesus took the occasion to say, “There will not be left here one stone upon another, that will not be thrown down.”42 Jesus may have made the prediction, or threat, more obviously to the public, for it became one of the accusations at his inquest. Jesus had mounted a confrontation with the temple authorities and anticipated a violent end. He met with his twelve disciples for a farewell meal, either the Passover Seder, or more likely—if he did not expect to survive until Passover—an imitation Passover meal without the sacrificial meat, celebrated a day earlier. During this meal, he spoke of the covenant and likened their bread to his body, and the wine to his blood, which he would now surrender for the sake of the new covenant. That night he was arrested by the Jewish authorities with the help of his disciple Judas. Whether this was prearranged between Judas and Jesus or a betrayal by Judas is impossible to know, since both interpretations are expressly made in the sources. If his arrest caught Jesus by surprise, then he was either oblivious to the danger or expected to slip out of Jerusalem unnoticed. The Gospels suggest that Jesus knew what was going on, and if so, he could have avoided capture, but at this point, Jesus intended to die. Since the authorities were seeking Jesus, the only task for Judas was to bring them to Jesus at a point where he could be arrested without a riot. At night, in a garden outside the city, was ideal. The testimony of Josephus, “Pilate, because of an accusation made by the leading men among us, condemned him to the cross,” concurs with the terse statement by Mark, “And as soon as it was morning the chief priests, with the elders and scribes, and the whole council held a consultation; and they bound Jesus and led him away and delivered him to Pilate.”43 Given the nature of political conflicts, we cannot dismiss something as basic and omnipresent as the pride of an important man; that is, Jesus may have offended the high priest and this affront became the personal vendetta of Caiaphas to see that Jesus was removed. In the following generation, the conflict between the family of Caiaphas and that of Jesus seems to have retained the nature of a personal feud. But at the time, Caiaphas had to produce reasonable cause for a Roman execution. Whatever the motive of Caiaphas, the confrontational stance of Jesus in coming up to Jerusalem places the initiative on his shoulders. Jesus led the attack, and one wonders if he was ever a victim of force majeure. What was the accusation against Jesus? He had challenged the authority of priests, scribes, and Pharisees to interpret the Torah, and this was perceived (rightly or wrongly) as a challenge to Moses by claiming a higher authority than Moses. He had declared the temple practice to be corrupt and predicted, or threatened, its destruction. These factors, the challenge to Torah and temple, offer sufficient cause for his death in the eyes of the chief priests and other Jewish leaders.44 Pilate, for his part, conducted his own enquiry according to Roman law, and the question of a claim to kingship, that is, a legitimate right to challenge the Jewish leaders recognized by Rome, was one factor in the Roman approval of the death sentence. Confusion over the nature of messianic authority may have been part of the deliberations, but it is doubtful that Jesus claimed to be the Messiah, a political figure and threat to Rome, since none of the disciples of Jesus were arrested. The potentially subversive


elements in the teachings of Jesus are the subject of continued debate among scholars of Jesus.45 He may have seen himself as messianic in the sense of God’s agent of divine redemption, but according to the Gospel accounts, he avoided the trappings of the various messianic expectations and the trap of militant or passive resistance to Rome. The dictum of Jesus, “Render unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God,” has been interpreted to mean that because everything is God’s, nothing belongs to Caesar. If this is what Jesus meant, then his preaching was seditious; but this view cannot stand in the light of the main themes of his preaching. The office of human kingship was divinely sanctioned in Scripture, and the history of Jewish political ideology had long since come to grips with imperial rule filling the office. As far as the evidence goes, neither John the Baptist nor Jesus advocated the human overthrow of Roman rule. Jerusalem, however, may have been rife with rumors that Jesus was a messiah, and the potential for violence between Galilean supporters of Jesus, a rabble of sinners claiming to be in the new kingdom of God, and Judaean antagonists to a Galilean nobody that challenged Torah and temple, would have provided the social unrest Pilate and the temple leaders feared. To the chief priests, then, Jesus was a threat to their authority, and to Rome, Jesus was a potential threat to social stability at a delicate time. Within the few years of Jesus’ ministry, Galileans had been slaughtered in some disturbance during the Passover, and during his lifetime other Feasts of the Passover had led to riots and deaths.46 The charge “King of the Jews” is almost certainly historical, for it would hardly have been invented by his followers.47 The chief priests may have asked Pilate to write a less offensive condemnation, such as “He claimed to be king of the Jews”; if so, the inscription posted on the cross may have been Pilate’s way of laughing at both sides of the Jewish squabble. The action of a Roman equestrian governor, on his own authority, presuming to crucify the recognized king of a Roman province is an inherent farce. Pilate could not execute a legitimate king, but he could pretend to do so with an accused imposter. The charge will later be turned on its head by followers of Jesus in the Johannine statement attributed to Pilate: “Behold, your king.” To the followers of Jesus, Pilate had done precisely what he had no authority to do. To the Jewish aristocracy, the titulus on the cross would have been Roman mockery. Roman soldiers nailed Jesus to a cross outside the city walls along with two other condemned criminals in the early afternoon. His most historically believable last words are those found in Mark and Matthew: “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani,” which means “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”48 The cry of dejection from Ps 22:2 [1] will not likely have been invented by faithful biographers, and Luke and John, who hold a much higher view of Jesus’ awareness of the victory of God, ignore it. Its association with the victorious end of the complete Ps 22 is part of the later Christian interpretation of the death of Jesus, unless it was what Jesus had in mind all along—and that we cannot know.

10.3.3 Birth of the Nazarenes The Jewish movement that sprang up after the death of Jesus rests on two equally well grounded but unverifiable traditions, without which one has a very


hard time of making sense of its origins: the tomb was empty, and people believed they saw Jesus alive. The subsequent belief that God had raised him from the dead, however it is interpreted, transformed the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth into a new movement. The messenger became the message. Jesus of Nazareth died during Passover, probably in 30 or 33. The death of Jesus left his followers dejected. Whatever expectations they had harbored for his ministry, his death wiped them away. They had thought him a great prophet, and some had even hoped he was the redeemer of Israel, perhaps the Messiah. He himself may have given them cause for such high hopes, but it is evident that Jesus did not foretell his death in such a clear and meaningful way as they later claimed, for all witnesses agree at the most primitive level that no one expected the tomb to be empty or that Jesus would be raised from the dead. On that first-day morning, faithful women disciples went to the tomb not to find it empty but to place herbs and spices around the corpse. Why the tomb was empty is historically unknown, but history is full of unexplained facts. An empty tomb is not a miracle per se, just a mystery. An early rumor said the disciples had stolen the body; and the rumor itself, if historically reliable, is evidence of an empty tomb. The male disciples did not believe the women’s report, though they could not help going to the tomb to confirm their folly. In the end, while it may be crucial to faith, it does not matter to subsequent history how the tomb came to be empty. Likewise the resurrection experiences are historical reports that must be accepted as data. We have at least one first-person testimony by an intelligent Jew, one given to visions and mystical meditations perhaps, but otherwise quite sober: Saul of Tarsus, more widely known by his Roman name, Paul. He testifies to the experience and the impact the experience made upon those who had such visions or encounters. Visions, by definition, cannot be objectively verified. Just as historians must pass over the veracity of miracles attributed to anyone in antiquity, so historians must pass over the veracity of the resurrection of Jesus and either accept or reject the testimony of witnesses as honest accounts of what they believed or thought they saw. The history of the Jesus movement begins with the historical probability that a sufficient number of people believed Jesus had been raised from the dead and appeared to his followers with further instructions, so as to constitute a critical mass of believers sufficient to continue in the hope that God had begun something new. According to Paul, more than 500 people made that claim.49 That all the disciples were in a state of mental shock may be taken for granted, but their mental state is merely another bit of historical data. They are the bedrock witness to the resurrection of Jesus. After Paul’s late experience, everyone had to blindly accept the testimony of those who claimed they saw Jesus. For the witnesses, perception was reality; for those that followed, faith was the conviction of things not seen. Belief in God certainly facilitated belief in miracle and resurrection. For most anyone in first-century Palestine, the question was not could Jesus have been raised from the dead, but did God raise Jesus from the dead? It was a question not of divine power but of trust: first, in God, and second, in the witnesses. The key question that spurred the transition of Jesus from a dead prophet to a risen messiah was “Why did God raise Jesus from the dead?” Luke describes


the mental process in a story designed to explain the leap to transcendence. On the first-day morning after the news of the resurrection had spread, two disciples journeyed from Jerusalem to Emmaus, 7 miles east. As they walked, a stranger came beside them and asked what they discussed so earnestly. They recounted the morning’s events, admitting they had hoped that Jesus was the one to redeem Israel. The stranger replied: “O foolish men, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself. So they drew near to the village to which they were going. He appeared to be going further, but they constrained him, saying, “Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished out of their sight. They said to each other, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the scriptures?”50

The disciples of Jesus reasoned that only God can raise anyone from the dead, and since God had raised Jesus, he must have done so for a purpose. The purpose must have been foretold because, as Amos long ago observed, “Surely the Lord God does nothing, without revealing his secret to his servants the prophets.”51 They searched the Scriptures, and their hearts burned within them. One can imagine the tingling scalps of the first interpreters of the death and resurrection of Jesus, as the psalm came alive: “The Lord said to my lord, sit at my right hand” (110), and the prophet Isaiah spoke, “He was wounded for our transgressions” (53:6). It appears the message Luke placed in the mouth of Peter quickly became a central belief among the followers of Jesus: “Therefore let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified.”52 Fundamental to the Jesus movement was the conviction that God had prophesied the death and resurrection of Jesus. Without going far afield—and we could go very far—we may note that every conceivable explanation for the empty tomb and resurrection visions has been proposed as an alternative to a straight forward description of disciples remembering the events and seeking to explain them within the providence of God. While most of the conjectures are possible, they are as irrelevant to history as they are impossible to prove. Possibly, soldiers dumped the corpse of Jesus in a trash heap outside the city, or pious Jews in charge of burying crucified criminals placed it in a common grave of criminals, and that was that. Possibly, the entire passionresurrection narrative comes from the distraught but highly creative minds of one or more of later disciples and devoid of all historicity. There is no question that exegesis of Scripture helped fashion the retelling of events surrounding the life and death of Jesus, but it is one thing to say historical events were remembered and retold according to Scripture, and quite another to say the entire narrative of Jesus was invented to fulfill Scripture; that is, prophecy historicized rather than history remembered. The question for historians is what explanation best fits the available


evidence within a viable chronology of a few years. Despite the fecundity of alternative scenarios, most scholars reject them as too complex or too conspiratorial to be realistically foisted on humble Galileans. The simplest explanation, that the tomb was indeed empty and people did indeed believe Jesus had been resurrected, remains the most plausible.53 The family of Jesus, mother Mary and his brothers, and disciples, both men and women, formed the nucleus of the followers of Jesus. They felt compelled to appoint a twelfth disciple to replace Judas, who had killed himself following the arrest of Jesus. This was necessary to retain the symbolism of the new covenant people begun by Jesus. Leadership of the group fell to Peter but soon was taken up by James, the brother of Jesus, who inherited the dynastic right to lead, who also saw the “risen Lord,” and who probably knew Jesus the best.54 The movement gained stability and new members, mostly from the lower ranks of society as the disciples of Jesus had been. They followed the teachings of Jesus and formed a communal fellowship, sharing what they had with one another. The wealthy among them took satisfaction in their patronage, as being obedient to Jesus, and the poor gratefully accepted it. Early on, disputes among them arose, particularly between Hellenist Jews and the native Hebrew Judaeans on sharing their wealth. Settling disputes spurred them to organize. The followers of Jesus may have called themselves Nazarenes, or Nazoreans, a name associated with Nazareth and some vague fulfillment of prophecy, according to the Gospel of Matthew: “There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, ‘He will be called a Nazorean.’ ”55 Since no such prophecy is known from the Hebrew Scriptures, the association is probably a word play either on nazir (“Nazarite”), someone separated to the Lord, or natsar (“Branch”), a messianic title. If so, the original meaning was a geographical term to distinguish Jesus the Nazarene (of Nazareth) from the myriad of others with the common name Jesus, and later, one or both of the word associations gave a deeper meaning to the group of Nazarenes, mentioned in Acts 24:5. Another name found in Acts for the new Jesus movement is “the Way” (Greek, hodos). This has parallels in the Dead Sea Scrolls as the Way of God, or simply the Way, where it is understood as strict observance of Mosaic Torah.56 It also bears a curious similarity with the Pharisaic descriptor of the Hebrew halakhah, translated as law or custom, but probably comes from the verb “to walk,” hence the way in which Israel should walk. The Way for the followers of Jesus may derive from his own version of halakhah. Its use in Acts, however, seems to reflect the way of salvation, rather than strict observance of law, and might derive from Isa 40:3, “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,” which in the Greek Septuagint also translates “way” by hodos. Finally, in the Johannine tradition Jesus says, “I am the Way (hodos)” (John 14:6), and that too may lie behind the name.57 The earliest selfdesignations, however, come from Paul. He speaks of the “saints” (holy ones) and the “congregation (ekklesia) of God.”58 According to the Acts of the Apostles, the mission of the Way began 50 days after the Feast of Passover on which Jesus was crucified. The followers were gathered


in a house when they heard the sound of rushing wind, something like tongues of fire came upon them, and they responded by speaking in other tongues, as they were filled by the Holy Spirit. They went out, still speaking in various languages, and amazed a crowd of pilgrims from Parthia and Media, Elam, Mesopotamia, Cappadocia, Pontus, Asia, Phrygia, Pamphylia, Egypt, Libya of Cyrene, Crete, Arabia, Rome, both Jews and proselytes, and Judaeans.59 They all heard these Galileans speaking in their own languages. Out of this chaos, which was thought to be a drunken stupor, the lead disciple, Peter, preached his first sermon, declaring the crucified Jesus to be the Messiah. If the event at Pentecost, even as an artistic encapsulation of origins, is at all reflective of historical reality, the movement will have spread in all directions from Jerusalem within a few months on the heels of the Jews and God-fearers who had come to Jerusalem from all the Diaspora. While the numbers remained small, the geographic distribution was wide, like a handful of seeds scattered hither and yon. The Nazarenes who remained in Jerusalem continued to meet daily in the temple porticoes for worship, and the leaders taught their new faith. Members were added, but enemies were also made. The high priest and his Sadducees had some of the leaders imprisoned, but they escaped. Eventually the leaders were brought before the Jerusalem council, charged to stop preaching. Peter is said to have replied, “We must obey God rather than men,” and went on to give a short sermon. Some of the council flew into a rage and wanted a death penalty. But a Pharisee of high repute, none other than Gamaliel the Elder, ordered the Nazarenes to leave the council and called for calm among the members. He counseled that these movements come and go.60 Better to leave them alone, for if their work is their own, it will pass, but if it is of God, even the Sadducees would not want to find themselves fighting against God. Luke’s scenario may well rest on a historical incident, but as with most of his history, there is no way to corroborate it. The story does, however, advance the basic view that Jewish leaders were divided over the new movement. There were ardent opponents, loyal supporters, and those who wished to live in peace with all views. Luke could not do better than to choose the best-known Pharisee of this generation, and from what is known of him in rabbinic tradition, there is nothing to suggest Gamaliel would not have spoken as Luke portrays him. An early and natural distinction among the followers of the Way fell between Diaspora Jews who spoke Greek and were sufficiently Hellenized in Greek culture to be identified as Hellenists by Luke, and Jews who retained the dominant Hebrew (Aramaic) language and culture of Judaea.61 A problem arose when the Hellenists, perhaps some of them pilgrims to Jerusalem who became believers and remained, were slighted in the distribution of common food. The problem was resolved by choosing seven leaders among the Hellenists to oversee the distribution. Of those chosen, Stephen and Philip were active in the mission, and Nicolaus of Antioch is identified as a Gentile convert to Judaism. An older view that the Hellenists and the Hebrews represented early theological positions on Torah observance and value of the temple has largely been discarded in favor of a simpler clash between language and culture. Both groups boldly preached their cause in Aramaic or Greek and clashed with other Judaeans and Diaspora Jews in Jerusalem.


Peter and John were imprisoned for preaching in the temple, but when some Pharisees, possibly led by Gamaliel the Elder, advocated for them, they were released unharmed and forbidden to preach in Jerusalem. Less fortunate was Stephen, the outspoken Hellenized Jew who argued with the Greek-speaking members of the Synagogue of the Libertines, including Cyrenians and Alexandrians. What he argued is not preserved, but it must have included the basic theme that Jesus is the Messiah. Whatever he said, they hauled Stephen before the high priest on charges of blasphemy against Moses and God, with the specific charge (false, according to Luke) that Jesus of Nazareth will destroy the temple and will change the customs that Moses delivered. Stephen cannot have thought he blasphemed, but that Jesus was the Messiah and now sat at the right hand of God, implying some divine status, could be so interpreted. The prediction of Jesus that the temple would be destroyed would give rise to the expectation that when he returned, he would destroy the temple. Jesus was known to have challenged the interpretation of the laws of Moses and annulled some customs, and his followers continued to do so. The defense speech Luke composed for Stephen is a summary of Israel’s salvation history and a self-identification with the rejection of the prophets of God who condemned Israel for its unfaithfulness. He accused his audience of being stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, part of unfaithful Israel, and so provoked them that they dragged him out of the city and stoned him. As Luke reconstructs the event, Stephen became the first martyr of the Way, in close imitation of the martyrdom of his master, Jesus of Nazareth. According to Eusebius, after the death of Stephen the apostles appointed James, the brother of Jesus, to head the church of Jerusalem.62 Continued opposition in Jerusalem prompted many of the Hellenists to return to their native lands and so to plant the seeds of their faith. Among the chief persecutors of the Way was Paul of Tarsus, himself a Hellenized Jew. The movement spread into Samaria. Philip the Evangelist, one of the seven chosen by the apostles in Jerusalem, preached in the city of Samaria (Sebaste). A certain Simon, called Magus on account of his sorcery by the “power of God that is called Great,” was impressed by the miracles of Philip and became a believer.63 When Peter and John came and laid hands on some believers so they received the Holy Spirit, Simon offered Peter money to also receive the power of the Spirit. Peter condemned Simon for thinking God’s gifts could be had by money: “May your silver perish with you.” Acts tells us only that Simon repented and asked for prayer against any evil, but in later tradition this Simon Magus becomes the founder of several Gnostic sects and is prominent in other traditions.

10.3.4 Paul of Tarsus We know about Paul from his own letters, with secondary support from the Acts of the Apostles, traditionally ascribed to Luke, author of the Gospel assigned to his name. A precise chronology of his life remains elusive due to differences between Paul’s statements and Acts, but the general outline is clear and noncontroversial. Paul was born of the tribe of Benjamin and given the Hebrew name Saul,


prominent in the tribe, but he went by his Roman name of Paul in all his letters. Though born in Tarsus, in southwestern Asia Minor, he probably moved to Judaea as a youth where he received his education. He became a Pharisee and in his view, at least, he advanced further than most for his age, so extremely zealous he was for the traditions of his ancestors.64 Paul may well have had missionary zeal for his Pharisaism, as did other Pharisees, “preaching circumcision” to proselytize Gentiles to become Jews, and then “zealous for the traditions” to make Jews into Pharisees. The caustic charge leveled against Pharisees by Matthew’s Jesus, “you traverse sea and land to make a single proselyte, and when he becomes a proselyte, you make him twice as much a child of hell as yourselves,” was directed at just the sort of Pharisee Paul boasted of having been.65 We should expect a certain continuity of personality between Saul the Pharisee and Paul the servant of Jesus Christ.66 When he came upon the new movement of Nazarenes, his zeal for the traditions of his ancestors compelled him to persecute the movement. Why? Was it the undermining of Torah, the acceptance of Gentiles into fellowship among Jews without circumcision, or calling on the name of Jesus as if calling upon God that Paul and others most objected to? Paul’s opposition to the teachings of Jesus, who diluted or dismissed certain traditions of the elders, is readily understood, but it was probably the exaltation of Jesus—a crucified man now called the Messiah—that Paul saw as idolatry or blasphemy worthy of death. It is also possible these “messianists” were seen as a continuing danger to the political stability of Jewish communities.67 These Jews expressed their devotion publically, in the synagogues or their own meetings, and the numbers must have become a clear and present danger. His zeal placed him among a more radical wing of the Pharisees than others, such as Gamaliel, who were willing to let the new movement play itself out rather than stamp it out. At some point early in the movement of Nazarenes, probably around the years 34–35, Paul received his own revelation of Jesus near Damascus. He may have been on the road to Damascus, as Acts says, with letters of authority from the high priest, Caiaphas, to arrest followers of the Way. The revelation of the risen Jesus, a vision that may have temporarily blinded him, changed the course of his life in as dramatic a fashion as history has to offer. He thought of his revelation as the last time the risen Jesus appeared to anyone, and during the revelation, as Paul later recalled it, Jesus gave him the gospel message from God and commissioned him to preach this gospel to the Gentiles.68 This experience was the anchor for his claim of apostolic authority on a par with any of the disciples of Jesus or others who had seen the risen Lord. In Damascus, he met with some of the very people he went to arrest, and they introduced him to their faith. We do not know what their version of “the faith” contained, but it included a primitive explanation that Scripture had predicted a suffering messiah.69 Paul believed, and the persecutor of the Way suddenly became its champion. Any of the Pharisees and priests who had supported his mission now saw Paul as a traitor to their cause. For up to 3 years, Paul preached his new faith in the territory of Nabataea under the rule of Aretas IV, perhaps as part of an existing Damascus mission. He stirred up enough controversy that King Aretas sought to imprison him, and Paul had to escape Damascus in a basket let down by disciples


through a window in the wall. After 3 years he went up to Jerusalem, where he met with Peter and James the brother of Jesus in order to confirm the widespread rumor that he who had once persecuted the church was now preaching its faith. With the blessing of these two leaders Paul went to Syria and Cilicia, the district of his native city Tarsus, and perhaps further afield in Asia Minor, working quietly for over a decade. Paul’s mentor was a man called Barnabas, a Levite and native of Cyprus, and together they became the missionaries to the Gentiles.

Chapter 11

A Troubled Diaspora for Jews and Jewish Believers (37–54 c.e.) 11.1 Rome The 17 years under the emperors Caligula and Claudius bring into the light of Roman history a number of prominent names in Jewish history, not the least of whom is our historian Josephus, born in 37. Two descendants of Herod the Great, Agrippa I and his son Agrippa II, play significant roles in Roman politics, and two members of the same aristocratic family in Alexandria, Tiberius Alexander and Philo, also stride across the imperial stage. Less visible at the time, members of the Jewish Nazarene movement, James, Peter, and Paul, establish their leadership, and perhaps the label of Christian is first applied to some followers of the Way in Antioch.

11.1.1 Caligula The emperor Tiberius was unable to decide on a successor. The leading candidates were, on the one hand, Gaius “Caligula” (born 12 c.e.), son of Germanicus and Vipsania Agrippina the Elder, and on the other hand, his grandson Tiberius “Gemellus” (born 19 c.e.), son of Julius Caesar Drusus (only surviving son of Tiberius) and Livia Julia (sister of Germanicus). Tiberius is said to have even considered his nephew Claudius (born 10 b.c.e.), son of Nero Claudius Drusus (younger brother of Tiberius and father of Germanicus) and Antonia (daughter of Mark Antony and Octavia, sister of Augustus), but he feared the bumbling idiot would bring contempt and humiliation on the memory of Augustus and the name of Caesars. If he did indicate an heir, it was not obvious enough to prevent rivalry and bloodletting between Caligula and Gemellus.70 Caligula, so named by the army of Germanicus for the “little boots” he wore as a child while dressed in a miniature uniform, joined the aging Tiberius on the island of Capri in the bay of Naples so as to be nearby when Fate played her hand. Tacitus tells us that on March 16, 37, Tiberius ceased to breathe, and word of his passing spread through the palace. Caligula, with the support of Macro, the prefect of the Praetorian Guard, prepared to take control of the state amid congratulations

A Troubled Diaspora for Jews and Jewish Believers 211

and good cheer. When word came that Tiberius had only fainted and was now awake, asking for food, Caligula stood dumbstruck, and his supporters backed away. But Macro, unperturbed, ordered the emperor be smothered, and so Tiberius died.71 Whispers of the emperor’s death reach Rome swiftly, but people were afraid to believe it, lest, if it were not true, untimely rejoicing would be their death sentence. Such a man was Agrippa (I) who remained in prison on orders of Tiberius. A former servant of Agrippa, when convinced of Tiberius’s death, hastened to Rome and finding Agrippa, said in Hebrew, “The lion is dead.” Agrippa could not conceal is joy and told the centurion in charge of guarding him. Knowing it would bring Agrippa his freedom, the centurion rejoiced with him and treated him to dinner. But while they feasted, news came that Tiberius was alive, and the frightened centurion immediate pushed Agrippa off his couch, clapped him in chains, and doubled the guard.72 Later, the official statement from Gaius that the emperor was truly dead brought the people into the streets, rejoicing, and shouting “To the Tiber with Tiberius,” while others prayed to Mother Earth and the gods of the underworld to give him no place except among the damned.73 The Jews in Rome may have shared the sentiment, since they had suffered an expulsion under his rule, but it is unlikely they expressed themselves so openly, and Diaspora Jews had no reason to rejoice at all. Philo lauds the memory of Tiberius, who protected the rights of Jews throughout the empire, just as Augustus had done. Jews had all the more reason to praise Tiberius, however, when compared with his successor. The change of emperors brought forth the usual accolades in Palestine, and special sacrifices and prayers were made in the temple, as well as the continuation of daily sacrifices on behalf of the emperor. Vitellius, the governor of Syria, finished off the negotiations with Parthian king Artabanus and visited Jerusalem during the Passover. The city presented him with such a lavish welcome that he acceded to a request that they be given control over the high-priestly vestments, which had been kept under Roman control in the Antonia fortress since the time of Coponius. Agrippa’s fortunes soon turned. After an appropriate time of public mourning, Caligula released Agrippa from prison, placed around his neck a chain of gold equal in weight to the chain of iron he had worn, and appointed him king over the tetrachies of Philip and Lysanius. Caligula also sent a new prefect, Marullus, to replace Pilate. The imperial gifts bestowed upon Agrippa piqued the ambition of his sister Herodias. Agrippa had fled debtor’s prison in Judaea only to be imprisoned in Rome, and now he arrived in such a royal state that he was deemed to be a model of the power of Fortuna. Herodias urged her husband to likewise seek the status of king in place of common tetrarch. Antipas resisted for a while but gave in and sailed to Rome. Agrippa, upon learning this move, sent a dispatch hot on their heels, in which he accused Antipas of conspiring with Sejanus against Tiberius and of now being in league with Artabanus the Parthian against Rome. Antipas was apparently unable to defend against the charge, and Caligula banished him to Lyons in Gaul. Because Herodias was the sister of Agrippa, he allowed her to keep her estate and serve her brother, but to her credit, she remained loyal to her husband and went


into exile with him. The tetrarchy of Antipas, Galilee and Peraea, was then added to the kingdom of Agrippa. The reign of Gaius Caligula had started well, and he gave the empire 7 months of stable rule before he suffered an illness that seems to have altered his mental state. Some claimed the illness left him deranged, but because he suspected someone had poisoned him, it may have merely made him aware of his tenuous hold on power and fostered a latent megalomania. After the death of his foster mother, Antonia, who had been a restraining influence on him, he claimed to be above the law: “I may do what I will against all persons whomsoever.”74 He sought divine honors from all quarters, which created difficulties for the Jews. In the autumn of 39, he undertook an invasion of Germany and Britain to commemorate the campaign of his father Germanicus, but returned, to the amusement of Rome, with only a collection of sea shells for spoils of war. Thereafter, he grew increasingly capricious in his exercise of power. On January 24, 41, soldiers took matters into their own hands and assassinated him.

11.1.2 Claudius The Roman senate was supposedly deliberating whether they should abolish the imperial system and restore the Republic when the Praetorian Guard, the true power in Rome, found Caligula’s 50-year-old uncle, Claudius, hiding behind a palace curtain in fear of his life. They hauled him to the senate and proclaimed him emperor. The senate confronted the timid Claudius, urging him not to usurp the throne, and both sides sought the mediation of the Jewish prince Agrippa, who was in Rome at the time. Through the good services of Agrippa, bloodshed was avoided and Claudius took the throne.75 Claudius was not much to look at: he limped, trembled, and stuttered, possibly all from a childhood paralysis, and when he grew angry he would foam at the mouth and trickle at the nose.76 Despite all that, he brought a steady hand to the ship of state. Abandoned in his youth as an impossible candidate for any position of authority, Claudius studied with the historian Livy, who instilled a love for history and literature in the unlikely future emperor. He authored several tomes in Greek, a defense of Cicero, histories of the Etruscans and Carthaginians, and he began a history of the principate. Pliny the Elder cited him as an authority. Claudius also put his pedantic mind to work in repairing the affairs of the empire after Caligula squandered the treasury. His construction projects included two magnificent aqueducts and a new harbor near Ostia to facilitate the import of grain. His first threat was senatorial support of a rebellion by the governor of Dalmatia. His loyal army restored order, and then he executed a number of senators. He never did get on well with the senate. Over the course of his reign he executed 35 to 40 senators and 300 equestrians, some of whom were involved in assassination attempts on his life. Despite his respect for the old aristocracy, Claudius knew true power lay with the army, and he paid them well. One notable gadfly, the caustic Spaniard, Lucius Annaeus Seneca the Younger, made a name for himself criticizing


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emperors, and Claudius managed to have charges of adultery (with the princess Julia Livia) brought against him, and Seneca was exiled to Corsica in 41. The reign of Claudius was marked by innovations that demonstrated his awareness of the transformation of the empire from the centralized rule of the senatorial class to a more liberal meritocracy, such as elevating freedmen to positions of power, permitting Gallic chieftains to become senators, and appointing a Jew, then a freedman, governor of Judaea. He added two Mauretanian provinces in North Africa to the empire, the province of Lycia in Asia Minor, and Thrace in 46. But in order to establish his reputation for true conquest, he invaded Britain in 43, personally joining his troops as they crossed the Thames. He returned to Rome for his triumph in 44, and Britain became a Roman province. He wisely kept peace with Parthia. Claudius had four wives who gave him both natural and adopted heirs, with all the intrigue and rivalries inherent therein. His last two wives were the most devisive. At age 38, he married the 16-year-old Valeria Messalina, and she was his consort when he took the throne. She bore him a son in 41, Germanicus, renamed Britannicus after the invasion of Britain, and a daughter, Octavia. Messalina, having done her duty, kept a troop of lovers passing in and out of her chambers, much to the dismay of Claudius and the Roman nobility. But when she conspired against Claudius in 48 and held a public marriage to one of her lovers, it was too great an embarrassment, and she and her lover were executed. Despite a claim that he would never marry again, Claudius sought permission from the senate to marry his niece Julia Agrippina the Younger, daughter of Vipsania Agrippina the Elder and Germanicus. The union was illegal in Roman law, so the law was changed. Julia Agrippina brought her son from a previous marriage, Lucius Domitus Ahenobarbus, and insisted Claudius adopt him and give his daughter Octavia in marriage. Because Domitus Ahenobarbus was older than Britannicus by three years, he became first in line for succession and would later change his name to Nero. Agrippina summoned Seneca from his exile to educate Nero. Behind the back of the aging Claudius she accumulated wealth and power by conspiring with the powerful minister of the treasury, Pallas, to condemn, execute, and confiscate properties of many leading citizens. After 5 years of marriage to Agrippina, Claudius seems to have awakened to her true designs, and he resolved to put both her and Nero aside by naming Britannicus heir. He never did. All ancient historians agree that Claudius was poisoned, rumored to have been in his favorite dish of mushrooms, rumored at the hand of Agrippina. In the absence of evidence to the contrary, the rumors have been handed down as history. After twelve hours of anguish, he expired on October 13, 54.

11.1.3 King Agrippa I Agrippa received from Claudius, in gratitude for his help in securing the throne, the kingdom of his grandfather, Herod the Great, over Judaea and Samaria, adding the districts of Trachonitis and Auranitis. The emperor awarded Agrippa’s brother, Herod, the principality of Chalcis on the western slope of Mount Hermon.


A Roman governor under the administrative title of procurator continued to dwell in Caesarea and keep effective control on Judaea. Momentarily, Judaea was again a client kingdom of Rome, and Agrippa set out to revive the legacy of his grandfather. Although he continued to borrow and spend more than his revenue allowed, he was an able ruler from Rome’s point of view, because he spread his wealth among the neighboring cities, as well as his own land. He devoted large sums to the northern city of Berytus (modern Beirut), building a theater, amphitheater, baths, and porticoes. Agrippa also expanded the city of Jerusalem to the north by building a third wall around the overflow of buildings. The quarter was called Bezetha, or in Greek, New City. But this wall, which would have made the city nearly impregnable, aroused the suspicion of the new Roman governor of Syria, Marsus, who replaced the benevolent Petronius in 42. Agrippa had only laid the impressive foundations when Marsus persuaded Claudius to stop the new wall on the grounds that it could lead to insurrection, and as unlikely as it would seem for one who had been raised in Rome and was on intimate terms with two emperors, Josephus hints that Agrippa had some thought of revolt.77 Josephus praised Agrippa for his piety and the care by which he safeguarded the customs in Judaea. When he had returned to Jerusalem on the accession of Claudius, Agrippa offered sacrifices of thanksgiving, and the golden chain given him by Caligula he placed within the temple above the treasury. He gained the praise of the residents of Jerusalem by remitting their property taxes. Early in his reign, he intervened on behalf of the Jewish community in Dora, just north of Caesarea, but beyond his jurisdiction. Certain Greek youths provoked the Jews by erecting a statue of Claudius near the synagogue. Agrippa wrote to Petronius, who immediately ordered the leaders of Dora to remove the sacrilege and send the offenders to him for judgment. In order to strengthen his own position as king of Judaea and associate his rule with the glory days of his grandfather, Herod the Great, he replaced the high priest Theophilus son of Ananus, who had been a Roman appointment, with Simon Cantheras, son of Boethus, who was a descendant of the Simon appointed by Herod the Great to the high priesthood, as well as becoming his father-in-law. The following year, however, Agrippa appointed a member of the house of Ananus, Matthias. It was probably during the high priesthood of Matthias the son of Ananus (42–43), and perhaps at his instigation, that Agrippa intervened against the young Nazarene movement and executed one of the original twelve disciples of Jesus, James the son of Zebedee.78 During the first three decades of the Judaean Nazarenes, opposition to their leadership in Jerusalem appears to have come primarily from the priestly aristocracy associated with Ananus, a Sadducee, including Caiaphas his son-in-law, and perhaps Sadducees en bloc.79 The leading Pharisee, Gamaliel the Elder, was at least ambivalent toward them, and Paul had gotten his authority to arrest Nazarenes from the chief priests.80 The fact that some members of the Nazarenes were Pharisees, and James, the brother of Jesus, was held in high esteem by many Pharisees may have contributed to the antagonism with the Sadducees. When Agrippa found this action pleased certain influential Jews, he had Peter arrested during Passover, but before Peter could be handed over to his antagonists,


he escaped prison.81 At this point Peter may have traveled to Rome to preach the gospel, and others of the Jerusalem church spread abroad in the Jewish Diaspora. Both Acts of the Apostles and Josephus tell the story of the death of Agrippa as divine judgment.82 Agrippa joined in a lavish festival in honor of Claudius Caesar, probably for his safe return in 44 from the conquest of Britain. Many of the magistrates of the territories were present.83 At daybreak Agrippa entered the theater robed in a garment of spun silver, and the rising sun’s rays sparkled upon him such that when he spoke, the audience responded, “The voice of a god, and not of a man.” Josephus says that these ministerial flatterers had not Agrippa’s interests at heart, but the king’s mistake was that he did not rebuke them for blasphemy and disavow such a pretense. According to Josephus, Agrippa saw an owl perched on a rope above him, and knowing the omen of death, he developed acute stomach pains and perished within five days. Acts says simply that an angel smote him and he was eaten by worms and died. Both agree his death was by the hand of God, because he accepted the acclamation of his deity. Others have suggested he was poisoned, but for the same reason.

11.2 Jewish Diaspora 11.2.1 Conversion of King of Adiabene The Jewish mission to Gentiles gained new success during the reign of Claudius. The ruling family of Adiabene converted to Judaism. Adiabene was a small feudal kingdom within the Parthian empire, located in northern Mesopotamia east of the Tigris.84 As Josephus tells it, King Monobazus of Adiabene had raised his favorite son, Izates, in Asia Minor to protect him from jealous siblings. While Izates dwelt there, a Jewish merchant named Ananias influenced the wives of Izates toward Judaism, and in due course, Izates himself. When the time came for him to assume the throne of Adiabene, he learned that his mother, Queen Helena, had likewise taken to the Jewish religion and had converted. Izates decided to convert, and he prepared himself for circumcision, but the queen cautioned him against it because the open worship of a god different from his subjects would undermine his rule. Izates told Ananias of his mother’s concern, and Ananias agreed with her, saying that the king, if he was devout in all other matters, could worship the God of the Jews without undergoing circumcision. God would pardon him for neglecting that obligation, and a baptism of purification, as his mother had no doubt performed, would suffice. Izates was not fully convinced, and later a Jew from Galilee who had a reputation for his strict interpretations of ancestral laws, probably a Pharisee, came and informed Izates that he must be circumcised if he wished to convert to the Jewish faith. That was the advice the king wanted to hear, and he summoned a surgeon to perform the act, informing his mother only after it was accomplished. The conversion did cause difficulties for his rule, but he survived, ever faithful. The queen mother visited Jerusalem, and when she saw the condition of the poor due to the famine (46–47), she had agents purchase grain from Egypt and dried figs from


Cyprus for distribution to the needy. Izates, his mother, and other family members built villas in Jerusalem and gave many gifts to the city. Further east, faint but visible traditions reveal the Pharisaic expansion of their teachings. Among the Jews of Babylonia, two cities served as collection points for the universal half shekel temple tax, Nisibis in the north and Nehardea in the south. There also appear to have been Torah study houses in each city prior to the destruction of the temple.

11.2.2 Pharisee Influence in Babylonia? A brief rabbinic tradition suggests a certain Judah ben Bathyra of Nisibis is the first Jewish sage of the later rabbinic persuasion known outside of Palestine.85 Judah ben Bathyra oversaw the temple tax collection in Nisibis, and the traditions ascribed to him show that he took particular interest in the sanctity of the temple in Jerusalem. For example, a Syrian Gentile boasted that he went up to Jerusalem and partook of the Jewish Passover, in defiance of the law that prohibits an uncircumcised foreigner from entering the temple courts. Judah told the man to ask for the fat-tail of his sacrifice the next time he went up, and when the Syrian did so, the priest knew he was not Jewish and executed him. They sent thanks to Judah, saying, “Peace be with you, Rabbi Judah b. Bathyra, for you are in Nisibis, and yet your net is spread in Jerusalem!” A second Jew known as Nehemiah of Bet Deli near Nehardea apparently studied with Gamaliel the Elder and then returned to Nehardea, where he promulgated his learning of the Pharisees.86 If so, Nehemiah of Bet Deli may have known of Paul of Tarsus and the Nazarenes.

11.2.3 Alexandria The city of Alexandria had harbored from its foundation an immigrant society, predominantly of Macedonians, Syrians, and Jews. After Julius Caesar and Augustus Caesar, Romans added their names to the ruling class. The vast underclass that provided a labor pool were the native Egyptian fellaheen, though some Egyptians, through intermarriage or their own family wealth, joined the elite. The city had declined since the golden age of the early Ptolemies, but it remained one of the largest cities in the world, and among the most prosperous. The population of more than a million probably included 400,000 Jews, descendants of original colonists under Alexander the Great, or of slaves brought in from the Ptolemaic wars in Palestine, or refugees from the Maccabean revolt and later Hasmonean rule. Thereafter, Jewish immigrants trickled in, from Palestine and elsewhere in Egypt, drawn by the economic and intellectual glow of the city. Philo estimated there were more than a million Jews in Egypt, to which may be added a significant number who had migrated west along the coast of Africa, even as far as Spain. Under the Ptolemies, the Jews throughout Egypt were included among the Hellene immigrant and upper class. After Octavian made Egypt a Roman province, the Jews began to decline. They were no longer part of the Hellenes but were


reduced to a status alongside the Egyptians. Jewish residents of Alexandria fared a little better, but they were not counted as citizens of the polis even though they were social equals to the Greeks, and a few Jews were citizens. The Jewish community formed their own recognized civic unit (politeuma), governed by their council, and were granted certain privileges that allowed them to follow their customs, such as sabbath rest from official duties or court appearances, and ritual purity of oil, for which they received a monetary sum during public distributions so they might purchase their own ritually pure oil. These sorts of privileges did not endear Jews to the Greeks or the Egyptians, and the Jews themselves admitted to a double identity, in which Egypt was the “fatherland” but Judaea was the “motherland.”87 Nevertheless, the Jewish community of Alexandria boldly trumpeted their Alexandrian heritage and their loyalty to Rome, and they put forth their most eminent members as examples of their true worth. Among the several very wealthy families in Alexandria were two brothers, Alexander Lysimachus, the Alabarch (minister of canal customs), and Philo. 11.2.3.1 Philo the Jew Philo of Alexandria (ca. 20 b.c.e.–50 c.e.), often called Philo Judaeus, was the Jewish philosopher par excellence since the author of Ecclesiastes. Philo was possibly of priestly descent with Sadducean leanings, certainly wealthy, well educated, and “no novice in philosophy.”88 He represents the epitome of the cosmopolitan Jew, at home in Hellenistic culture yet proud of his Jewish heritage, and a firm believer that the God of Israel is the only true God whom all lovers of wisdom seek. He received a Greek education in the encyclia and recalled how delighted he was in the study of literature, mathematics, and music, yet he knew these were but stepping stones to the higher study of philosophy and wisdom.89 For the rest of his life he patronized the arts, music, and theater and was often found at the chariot races or other athletic contests. A prolific author, he wrote allegorical commentaries and spiritual essays on the Torah, in particular on the book of Genesis. His Greek was excellent, but his knowledge of Hebrew rudimentary at best. Like most Hellenistic Jews, he made a virtue of necessity and esteemed the Septuagint to be of equal value and authority to the original Hebrew. As a philosopher and an observant Jew, his goal was to elucidate the universal truths handed down in the Jewish Scriptures in such a way that Greeks and Romans could appreciate them and see the superiority of the Jewish way of life, defined by the Mosaic law, which, in his view, provides the best environment for the rule of God over humanity, humankind over the world, and mind over matter. Philo believed in Roman rule and again represents the vast majority of Hellenistic Jews. He grew up during the reign of Augustus and cherished the memory of that rule as the Roman ideal. He argued in his political philosophy that it served Rome well to protect the Jews on two counts. On the one hand, God watches over the Jews, and Roman rule desires the blessings of Providence; on the other hand, Rome should safeguard the Jews because of their past, present, and future loyalty to Rome. In contrast, Philo’s disdain for Egyptians occasionally escapes his otherwise


polite rhetoric. Egyptians, he says, are “a seed bed of evil in whose souls both the venom and the temper of the native crocodiles and asps were reproduced.”90 Bachelor philosophers, like Philo, preferred the quiet life of contemplation, but he could not in good conscience avoid the duties of his station in society and often found himself thrust into public life. When the Jews of Alexandria found themselves in dire straits, he answered his calling and led a Jewish delegation to Rome. It is from his accounts On the Embassy to Gaius and the riots under Flaccus in Against Flaccus, and comments by Josephus, that we gain our knowledge of these troubled times. 11.2.3.2 Apion the Greco-Egyptian Greek-speaking Egyptians had been writing pamphlets against the Jews, primarily popular fables of Jewish origins from Egypt, Jewish worship of an ass, and the folly of the sabbath rest, as early as the third century b.c.e. This venerable Egyptian pastime was taken up again by a certain Apion, son of Posidonius, and a contemporary of Philo. His name is derived from the Egyptian bull-god Apis, and he was therefore probably Greco-Egyptian. His nickname, Pleistonikes, “victor of many contests,” bespeaks his self-worth, which others described as ridiculously vain. Apion was born and raised in the El Kargeh oasis, where he studied under Didymus the Great. Early in the first century, he succeeded Theon as head of the school of Alexandria and gained popularity in Egypt and Greece by his lectures on Homer.91 He later retired in Rome and opened a school. Pliny the Elder studied with Apion for a while but came away convinced the man was a charlatan, trumpeting his own fame, a view shared by Tiberius.92 Among his works (mostly lost) he wrote a history of Egypt in five books, in which he placed much of his anti-Jewish polemic, tied to the exodus of Moses and the Israelites, and to which Josephus would later respond. Apion leveled three major calumnies against the Jews. First, Moses was an Egyptian who led a band of diseased slaves out of Egypt. Apion numbered the Jewish refugees of the exodus at 110,000 and then offers an etymological origin to the sabbath: “After six days’ march, they developed tumors in the groin, and that was why, after safely reaching the country now called Judaea, they rested on the seventh day, and called that day sabbaton, preserving the Egyptian terminology; for the disease of the groin in Egypt is called sabbato (or sabbatosis).” To this, Josephus does not know whether one should laugh or be offended. Second, Alexandrian Jews were former Syrians who weaseled their way into the city and should not have any kind of citizenship in Alexandria because they do not worship the gods of Alexandria. Josephus responds with a detailed account of the inauguration of the Jewish community and the Delta quarter in the city under Alexander and the Ptolemies. Third, Apion repeats the widespread tale that Jews worship the head of an ass, with a golden replica concealed in the Holy of Holies. He also accused the Jews of misanthropy; specifically, every year they kidnap a Greek boy, fatten him up, then take him into the woods where they slay him, and eat his flesh. Before burying the remains, they swear an eternal oath of hostility to all Greeks. Josephus easily


dismisses these hideous claims, for in each case, Apion claims it was King Antiochus Epiphanes who made the discovery, and had the rumors been true, the king would have rightly exposed them, but there is not a trace of them in the records.93 Apion’s opposition to the Jewish community in Alexandria, however, brought him sufficient notoriety that he was appointed head of the Greek delegation to counter the Jews during the embassy before Gaius Caligula. 11.2.3.3 Strife in Alexandria During the brief reign of Caligula, the Jews of Alexandria suffered the greatest pogrom in their history to that point, if pogrom is the right word for such a humiliation and destruction directed out of sheer hatred of them.94 There had been riots and persecutions against Jews in the Diaspora before, but if we may believe the first-person narrative of it from Philo in his book entitled Against Flaccus, nothing on this scale. Ever since the rise of Egyptian nationalism under Ptolemy III after the battle of Raphia (217 b.c.e.), in which 30,000 Egyptians fought, an undercurrent of native resentment at foreign rule simmered beneath the surface of society, threatening anarchy and mob rule. The Jewish community was a convenient target of Egyptian animosity because they were the most standoffishly foreign and less powerful than the Macedonians. The Roman governor of Egypt, Aulus Avillius Flaccus, had supported Gemellus, a rival of Caligula to succeed Tiberius, and upon the succession of Caligula and the subsequent death of Gemellus, he sought the support of prominent Alexandrians to intercede with Caligula on his behalf. The cost of their support, however, was that Flaccus sanction their plot to take away the political protection of the Jews in the city. Agrippa had returned to Palestine by way of Alexandria and paraded his new status for the Jewish community surrounded by a golden armored bodyguard and much pomp. Egyptians accused the Jews of a greater loyalty to this “foreign ruler” than to Rome. To the delight of the offended Egyptians, a few enterprising youths grabbed an imbecile named Carabas who went around the city naked, thrust him onto a stage in the gymnasium, and clothed him in a carpet, with a shaft of papyrus for a scepter. They stood round their king with rods on their shoulders as a bodyguard and proceeded to mock the presence of Agrippa by hailing this poor soul as “Marin,” that is, “lord” in Aramaic. When Flaccus did nothing to prevent this insult to a foreign ruler, the crowd grew bolder and ransacked the synagogues and set up images of the emperor. Flaccus responded to the Jewish protest by denouncing them as foreigners and aliens who, therefore, did not enjoy the status of Alexandrian citizenship. This illegal action emboldened the Egyptians still further, and they evicted Jews from the three districts of the city where they were in the minority and plundered their homes. Some families hiding in fear were burned alive; others were dragged through the streets of the city until dead and partially dismembered. Soon the Delta quarter was choking with Jewish refugees. Flaccus arrested 38 elders of the Jewish council and publically paraded them in shackles through the market. The greatest disgrace came when they were arrayed in the theater and flogged, and


several old men expired from the flogging. The mob seized women in the marketplace and theater, brought swine’s flesh, and ordered the women to place it in their mouths. Those who did were let go, but those who refused where handed over to gangs who abused and violated them. Many esteemed Greek citizens called for justice over the blatant illegality of the riot. Within a year Flaccus was arrested and exiled, though whether for his complicity in the riots or as an imagined threat to the emperor, the Jews of Alexandria could not say. But they realized that they must renew their protection of law, and they requested permission from the new prefect, Vitrasius Pollio, to send a delegation to appeal their case before Caesar. The venerable Philo agreed to lead the delegation, and he wrote about the experience in On the Embassy to Gaius. The Jewish delegation was forced to make their appeal to the emperor in a villa outside Rome while Caligula instructed his troop of decorators on the remodeling changes he desired. Also present was a delegation of the anti-Jewish Alexandrians, including the notorious Apion. The emperor joined in ridicule of the customs of Jews, asking why they did not eat the flesh of swine. The Jewish delegation responded that different nations have different taboos, Jews as well as Egyptians. The Alexandrians jibed, “Yes, just as many don’t eat lamb which is so easily obtainable,” and Caligula laughed, “Quite right too, for it’s not nice.” Such puerility was both customary and bearable, but when Caligula stretched out his hairy arms to heaven and uttered a blasphemy, probably an attempt to pronounce the divine name Yahweh, such as “Eyaaaoooeh” found in Greek magical inscriptions, the delegation was rendered defenseless, for he then required them to acknowledge his divinity as an expression of their loyalty to Rome.95 They protested that they demonstrated their loyalty by offering up daily sacrifices on his behalf in the Jerusalem temple. He replied, “All right, that is true, you have sacrificed, but to another [god], even if it was for me; what good is it then? For you have not sacrificed to me.” Caligula dismissed the speechless Jews, declaring them less seditious than foolish, in that they refused to acknowledge him as a god. Josephus says that Caligula reacted to the Jewish impertinence by ordering the legate of Syria, Petronius, to commission the giant statue of Zeus with his own likeness and to place it in the temple of Jerusalem. Philo claims the action was a response to an incident in Jamnia, in which Jews destroyed an altar to the emperor. Both agree that Petronius realized the impossibility of such an action and delayed its prosecution as long as he could. While the artisans fashioned the statute, he attempted to negotiate some sort of compromise with the leaders of Jerusalem, but the multitude gathered and bared their necks, preferring death to desecration of the divine Name. Agrippa I, not unmindful of the disaster that awaited Judaea, prevailed upon his friendship with Caligula by writing a lengthy letter to the emperor, appealing to his noble ancestry and the reality that if the decision were carried through by force, a revolt would result and he, Agrippa, would have no kingdom left to rule. Caligula gave in and instructed Petronius to abandon the project. Shortly after Caligula had sent his directive to Petronius, he received the letter of Petronius asking him to reverse his order concerning the statue. Caligula flew into a rage and sent another missive instructing Petronius to commit suicide


for his impertinence. But the messengers were delayed by the winter weather, and on January 24, 41, soldiers assassinated Caligula. Word of the emperor’s death reached Petronius early in March. The missive of Caligula commanding him commit suicide arrived in April. Petronius ignored it. The riot in Alexandria, and the imperial attempt to erect a statue in the Jewish temple, may have emboldened some Gentiles in Antioch to vent their anger over a dispute between the chariot race factions, Greens and Blues, in the amphitheater, at which Petronius was present. After the Blues chanted, “Time raises up and casts down: the Greens are lechers,” a riot ensued in which Hellenes killed many Jews and burned their synagogues. Our only source, the chronographer John Malalas, also recounts the impossible retaliation of some 30,000 Jews from Tiberias against the men of Antioch under the leadership of a priest, but it is entirely possible that Jews of Syria and Palestine did retaliate.96 It is noteworthy that latent anti-Jewish sentiments, such as there were, tended to erupt during the reigns of kings and emperors who openly expressed their own hatred of the Jews. The incident also reveals the civic involvement of Jews in the major cities, including circus factions, and their tenacious insistence to defend themselves, to retaliate, and to seek justice from the emperor. In the end, the leaders of the Hellenes were tried and executed.

11.2.4 Jews under Claudius Although Roman historians did not recall Claudius in a respectable light, the Jews of the Empire welcomed his accession to the throne because they believed anyone would be better than Caligula. Claudius settled affairs for the recovering Jewish community in Alexandria and issued an edict safeguarding the rights of Jews throughout the empire to “observe the customs of their fathers without let or hindrance.” But he also noted that the Jews should not “intrude themselves into the games presided over by the gymnasiarchoi and the kosmetai (gymnasia officials) since they enjoyed what is their own, and in a city which is not their own they possess an abundance of all good things.”97 Despite the long residence of Jews in Alexandria, Claudius annulled previous privileges of Jews who entered the gymnasia to prepare for full Alexandrian citizenship. This was a crushing blow to the higher ranks of the Jewish community, led by the venerable Philo, who wished to integrate themselves into Alexandrian life, and marked the start of the decline of the Jews in Egypt. The untimely death of Agrippa placed the rule of Judaea back in the lap of Claudius. He thought to appoint Agrippa’s son, Agrippa II, king in his father’s stead, but councilors advised against it until the son, still a youth of 17, should prove the worth of the father. Judaea reverted to an imperial province, and in keeping with his reorganization of his administration, Claudius sent Cuspius Fadus, a procurator (in place of the former prefects), with greater financial responsibilities to administer Caesar’s properties. In due course, after the death of Herod, king of Chalcis in 48, Claudius elevated Agrippa II to that throne, but Agrippa II remained in Rome for 2 more years.


Cuspius Fadus (ca. 44–46) put down a minor border dispute between Jews of Peraea and the Greeks of Philadelphia in the eastern highlands, and he executed the brigands of a small village. He also impounded the vestments of the high priest, placing them in the Antonia under Roman control, as they had formerly been. The Jerusalem leaders immediately petitioned Caesar to have them returned, and Claudius, upon the urging of Agrippa II, did so. During his administration, a selfproclaimed prophet called Theudas persuaded a considerable throng to follow him to the Jordan River, where he would part the river, as had been done by Joshua, and lead them across. What else Theudas intended we are not told, but Fadus gave him no time, and after killing many of the followers, captured Theudas and brought his decapitated head to Jerusalem. Around 46, Claudius sent Tiberius Alexander, a member of the most illustrious family of the Jewish Alexandrian aristocracy, to administer Judaea. His father, the very wealthy Alexander the Alabarch, had funded Herod’s gold plating in the temple. His uncle was the philosopher Philo of Alexandria.98 Unlike his father and uncle, however, Tiberius Alexander had determined that in order to rise in the ranks of the Roman military, as a number of Alexandrian Jews had done in the past under the Ptolemies, he would have to shed some particulars of his Jewishness; for Josephus says he did not observe the customs of his people, which probably meant ignoring the dietary regulations.99 Josephus records two difficulties Tiberius Alexander faced while he governed Judaea. A famine swept Egypt and Greater Palestine (46–47) and brought great hardship to the poor. There was no doubt a rise in brigandage, for at this time the two sons of the rebel Judas the Galilean, James and Simon, were captured, and he ordered them to be crucified.100 Under Nero, Tiberius Alexander would advance to become prefect of Egypt, and in due course, a key player in the rise of Vespasian to the imperial throne. Law and order began to go astray under the next procurator, Ventidius Cumanus (ca. 48–52).101 At the Feast of Passover, Roman soldiers were stationed on the portico roofs around the temple to maintain order. One soldier made an obscene gesture to the pilgrim crowd, either to expose his genitals, or according to a different account, he turned his backside, lifted his tunic, stooped, and blew a noise in keeping with his posture.102 Angry cries of “blasphemy” followed, and when they demanded action from Cumanus, he attempted to dismiss the insult as a minor affair, demonstrating his ignorance of the province he governed. The crowds then hurled abuses at Cumanus. He responded by summoning his entire force in the Antonia fortress. The crowd panicked, and in their attempt to flee through the gates, thousands were crushed to death.103 Soon after, an important slave of Caesar was robbed by brigands while traveling on the public road leading to Bethhoron. Cumanus ordered soldiers to ransack the nearby villages in search of the stolen goods, and while carrying out the raids, one soldier found a Torah scroll. He brought it out and tore it in two while uttering a string of blasphemies. A mass delegation appealed to Cumanus, and this time he avoided another riot by having the soldier beheaded. A third incident became so serious it required the intervention of the governor of Syria, and eventually the emperor himself. Samaritans attacked a contingent of


Galilean pilgrims passing through Samaria on the way to Jerusalem for a festival. Samaritans then bribed Cumanus so that he brought no one to justice. A band of Galileans, led by a well-known mountain brigand, Eleazar son of Deinaeus, burned down Samaritan villages and slaughtered the villagers in revenge. Cumanus intervened at this point but in a manner that nearly led to war. He led the Roman cohort called the Sebastenes and armed Samaritans out against the Jews, killing and capturing many. At this point the leaders in Jerusalem put on sackcloth and ashes in hopes of calming the Galileans. They managed to prevent further retaliation by the Galileans, but from that point on, Josephus tells us, the whole of Judaea was infested with brigands. Meanwhile, delegations from the Samaritans and the Jews reached Quadratus, the governor of Syria, and he quickly realized the reputation of Roman rule was at stake. After his own investigation in Palestine, he executed leading rebels on both sides and sent Cumanus, his tribune Celer, and leaders of the Samaritans and Jews, including the high priest Ananias, to Caesar for judgment. In Rome, Agrippa II, still residing in the house of Claudius, prevailed on the empress Agrippina to ensure that the emperor gave the Jewish delegation a fair hearing. In the end, Claudius executed three leading Samaritans and exiled Cumanus. As for the tribune Celer, who had been responsible for the troops in Jerusalem, Claudius ordered him to be returned to Jerusalem, where he was to be dragged around the city in a public spectacle and then executed, thus repairing the original lewd insult in the temple. In place of Cumanus, Claudius took the unprecedented step of appointing a freedman, Felix, as procurator of Judaea. This came at the request of a chief priest, Jonathan, but it turned out to have been another poor choice on the part of the emperor in governing his eastern front, though he did not live to see the full truth of it.

11.3 “Christian” Apostolic Era In this generation the Nazarene movement expanded from Jerusalem to establish colonies in the major urban centers of the eastern Roman Empire, as well as Rome itself. There were numerous house churches in Judaea, and one community of Galileans formed a church at the home of Peter in Capernaum and likely planted others in the Galilee, although there is little archaeological evidence for the spread of Nazarenes during the first century because they all gathered in homes indistinguishable from those of their neighbors. We know of Nazarenes as far as Damascus within the first 2 years after Jesus, and they spread to Antioch soon after. We must also suppose that the movement, along with early variations of belief, spread to Alexandria and Rome within the first decade, so that during the apostolic era, the nascent Christianity laid roots in the major cities of the eastern Mediterranean lands. The message, euangelion (“good news”), or gospel, as it was soon called, adapted to accommodate the many God-fearers and any Gentiles drawn to the movement. In this case, Paul seems to have been the chief architect of the good news that departed Jerusalem for the ends of the earth. The “beloved of God in Rome,” as Paul called them during the first decades of their existence, were hardly distinct from the many Jewish communities, some


of whom banded together according to their own immigrant origins.104 Claudius, Suetonius tells us, made some effort to cleanse Rome of the nefarious sects and ethnic associations and took specific action against the Jews. “Since the Jews constantly made disturbances at the instigation of Chrestus, he expelled them from Rome.” This incident cannot be precisely dated, though it likely occurred either in 41 (Dio), or later in 49 (Orosius).105 Nor is it clear to whom this Chrestus refers. While it is conceivable that a Jew named Chrestus was stirring up the Jewish community during the reign of Claudius, it has generally been judged more likely that “the instigation of Chrestus” refers to Jews preaching about Jesus Christ, a kind of disturbance for which a great deal of evidence can be marshaled. Luke probably has the incident in mind when he speaks of the “Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, who had recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had ordered all Jews to leave Rome.”106 The bulk of the evidence supports the later date of 49, though it is not impossible that Claudius twice took action against the Jews of Rome. The significance of the event, however, is that followers of Christ at this time saw themselves, and were so seen by others, as members of the Jewish community, and the expulsion may have been a formative moment in the awareness of a distinction between themselves and the Jewish communities.107 Meanwhile, the congregation in Jerusalem remained the mother church, with all the prestige that came from the eternal city, and it ministered to a number of smaller congregations throughout Judaea. Although hindsight looks back at the early days as a beginning of the Christian church, at the time it was merely a continuation of a community of like-minded Jewish believers. The people of the Way met together and organized themselves as a synagogue, the form of community they knew. At some point, quite early on, they chose the term ekklēsia rather than synagogue to identify their association, apparently in order to distinguish their congregation from the standard Jewish community meetings in Judaea and the Diaspora, and because the Greek ekklēsia was the standard Septuagint translation of the Hebrew qahal (“to call out”). The ekklēsia was called out to assemble distinctly.108 James, the brother of Jesus, led the Jerusalem church, but alongside were two of the original disciples, Simon Peter (Aramaic, Cephas), and John b. Zebedee, who, along with his brother James, Jesus had nicknamed Sons of Thunder. We know very little of these leaders, except that they were carrying on a mission to Judaea that brought them into serious conflict with influential Jews, former companions of Paul and others, so that a prominent member, James b. Zebedee, was executed on authority of King Agrippa I around 43.109 Their mission was one of life and death, and this factor looms large in the relations between the Jerusalem leaders and the supporters of Paul.

11.3.1 Paul of Tarsus: Missionary to the Gentiles Paul says that after joining the Nazarenes he spent 3 years preaching in the Arabian area south of Damascus. Only then did he finally come up to Jerusalem, where he met with the Nazarene leaders, Peter and James, the brother of Jesus. The


churches of Judaea rejoiced at this news.110 By conventional reckoning, this took place around 37. Thereafter, he went to the regions of Syria and Cilicia, where he continued to preach his gospel. Paul spent the next decade or so as an itinerant preacher, traveling through Galatia, western Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Greece. He met growing opposition along the way, but this only hardened his resolve. It is impossible to know how much of Paul’s gospel he received in one fell swoop of revelation and how much he developed it over the early years.111 He admits to accepting a basic tradition handed down to him from the first witnesses: For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.112

On the other hand, Paul insists that he was given a mission to the Gentiles at the time the risen Jesus was revealed to him.113 Therefore, from the start he proclaimed a gospel that brought the Gentiles into the covenant people of God, and his thoughts about it (his theology) sought the rationale for a means by which this was to be accomplished. There is no doubt that Paul relied on Stocism to serve as a bridge between his Jewish gospel and the Greek philosophy of life and the Deity, such as Acts 17 portrays him in Athens, arguing with philosophers about their altar to an unknown god.114 A question that arose very early was the relationship of the covenant law to the participation of Gentiles in the new covenant. To this Paul devoted his mental labor. He drew up a theology that facilitated the entrance of Gentiles into the new covenant and further explained the significance of the death of Jesus. Essentially, the death of Jesus was God’s ultimate sacrifice for the forgiveness of human sin, and all that is required to obtain forgiveness and reconciliation with God is faith in God’s act of reconciliation through the mediation of Jesus. The sign of this new faith was baptism into the new life in Jesus Christ. The dilemma of Gentile inclusion into the Jewish covenant was encapsulated by Luke in the person of the apostle Peter. While dozing one afternoon on the rooftop of a house in Joppa, Peter dreamed he saw a sheet descending from heaven filled with all manner of forbidden foods. A voice commanded him to eat, but Peter bravely refused because he had never eaten any unclean thing. The voice said, “What God has cleansed, you must not call common.”115 Peter was then invited to the house of a Roman centurion, Cornelius, who was already a God-fearer and wished to hear the gospel. Peter realized from his dream that God no longer showed partiality between Jews and Gentiles, and while he was delivering the gospel message, the Holy Spirit fell on all the Gentiles who listened. Jewish believers who came with Peter were amazed but agreed with Peter that Cornelius and his household should be baptized and accepted as they were into the community of believers. The question remained, however, whether confession and baptism were sufficient, or was circumcision yet required.


11.3.2 Incident at Antioch The conflict came to a head at Antioch.116 Although the chronology is obscure, and therefore disputed, it was during the time of Claudius, in the early 40s, that Jewish believers from Cyprus and Cyrene came to Antioch in Syria and began preaching that Jesus is Lord and Messiah to Gentiles. Antioch of Syria had long considered itself the capital of the East and was probably the third largest city of the Roman Empire, after Alexandria and Rome. By now the Jewish community, buttressed by a substantial number of proselytes, constituted a significant force within the city, numbering perhaps 30,000 to 50,000.117 Many Gentiles, including God-fearers and full proselytes to Judaism, accepted the new form of Judaism. At this point in his narrative, Luke recalls that in Antioch the disciples were for the first time called Christians, though we should not assume it occurred at this precise time (ca. 44–45), since it is the city, not the time, that summons Luke’s remark.118 The name Christian remained a slanderous epithet well into the next century and testifies to the problem of distinguishing followers of Jesus from the other Jews in Antioch. When the church in Jerusalem heard of the expansion of the movement to Gentiles, they sent Barnabas, a Levite from Cyprus who had joined the Nazarenes, to observe. He was encouraged by it and brought Paul from Tarsus, whose task was to help guide the Gentiles in Antioch. Paul and Barnabas remained with them for a year, and the Gentile church flourished. Paul’s gospel had remained largely unknown to the church in Jerusalem, but it soon came to their attention after he joined the mission in Antioch. The believers from Cyprus and Cyrene likely baptized their converts and then subjected them to circumcision and Torah. Paul argued that Gentiles should not be subject to either because they were accepted by God on their profession of faith in Jesus. For Paul, the Gentile church of God was just that group who had long been predicted and envisioned in the completion of God’s providence. Paul believed the new covenant accepted Gentiles as is, with no further requirements. Baptism was their sign of admission, the counterpart of Jewish circumcision: one covenant, one people. For most of the Jewish believers, this was too radical a notion of the covenant to accept. At this point, if not earlier, opposition among the Nazarenes began. Paul felt he needed to settle the matter with Jerusalem. After 14 years of mission work, he thought he might have been preaching in vain, and he sought the approval of the leaders in the mother church. The journey may have been facilitated by an offering from the church of Antioch to Jerusalem for famine relief, placing it around 47, when Queen Helena was also providing for the poor in Jerusalem.119 Paul and Barnabas met privately with James, Peter, and John, the pillars of the Jerusalem congregation. Paul explained the gospel he preached to the Gentiles, that they should not require circumcision, and he used Abraham as the archetype, who was reckoned by God as righteous before he was circumcised. As a test case, Paul brought with him Titus, a Gentile believer, and although some members of the congregation (whom Paul calls “false brothers”) argued he must be circumcised to enter their fellowship, the leaders did not require Titus to be circumcised. The


Jerusalem pillars, James, Peter, and John, extended the right hand of fellowship to Paul and sent him on his way. Paul would take the gospel to the “uncircumcised” (Gentiles), and Peter would take the gospel to the “circumcised” (Jews). The matter, however, was not settled. The two ways of looking at Gentiles came to a head over table fellowship in the incident at Antioch. Because table fellowship (including, but not limited to the Lord’s Supper) was the supreme act of unity and of a common identity, Paul insisted that Jewish believers eat together with “uncircumcised” Gentile believers. After Paul and Barnabas returned to Antioch from a mission to Cyprus and Asia Minor (Acts 13–14), Peter paid an important visit to the city. He initially shared table fellowship with the Gentile believers according to Paul’s understanding of their previous agreement: when among the mission to the Gentiles, accept them as brethren. But then a delegation sent by James from Jerusalem arrived to monitor the Gentile church, and they denounced the breach of Mosaic law. Peter gave in to the pressure of the delegation and withdrew his support of common table fellowship. It is not clear whether the delegation pushed the views of James or their own, but it was likely the authority of James, the leading pillar, that caused Peter, himself a pillar, to back away. The Jewish believers followed suit and separated themselves from the Gentiles. Even Barnabas withdrew from the previous fellowship. This raised the ire and fury of Paul. He publically accused Peter of being a hypocrite. “If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?”120 Peter’s humiliation went down poorly among the Jerusalem members, as well as among the Jewish believers in Antioch. The “right hand of fellowship” had been shattered. Soon, more Jewish believers from Jerusalem came to Antioch, teaching at the very least that circumcision according to the custom of Moses was a requirement for fellowship with the mother church in Jerusalem, and perhaps even that salvation depended on circumcision; in other words, there was no salvation outside of traditional Israel. Their teachings made an impact and spread from the Gentile mother congregation in Antioch to the Gentile congregations in Galatia. Shortly thereafter, Paul wrote the animated defense of his gospel to the congregations in Galatia. (According to this scenario, the Epistle to the Galatians is Paul’s first letter.) For Paul, believers in the Way were not to be distinguished between Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, for they were all one in Christ.121 Throughout the incident, according to Paul’s account, the position of James and the Jerusalem church remains in the background. It is probable that James and his elders were under considerable political pressure in Jerusalem to demonstrate control over the Jesus movement within their jurisdiction.122 It is possible, as has been suggested, that James accepted a prevalent understanding among Jews, at least among certain conservative circles, that the ideal land of Israel extended beyond Damascus, even to the river Euphrates, therefore including Antioch of Syria.123 If so, or even if Antioch is merely the gateway to the Diaspora, from a conservative point of view the restrictions on Jewish mingling with Gentiles may have applied. James directed his oversight to Jews in Antioch, not to Gentiles, over which he had no particular concern. The second wave of Jewish believers from Jerusalem who insisted on circumcision of Gentile believers in Antioch did not come from


James, so that the disagreement between Paul and James was probably less than is often assumed, and the point of disagreement was more about the application of halakhah on Jews than theology of the new Jesus movement. James was following the directive of his elder brother, who was sent to the “lost sheep of the house of Israel” and his own mission to the “twelve tribes in the Dispersion.”124 Paul’s mission to the Gentiles became the lodestone of the entire conflict over the inclusion of Gentiles into the covenant of God. The circumcision party of Jerusalem, Pharisees within the congregation, insisted Gentiles must “be circumcised and ordered to keep the law of Moses.” Paul again went up to Jerusalem to meet with the leaders of the church.125 The arguments on each side were both sound and passionate. On the one hand, the new covenant was a renewal of God’s covenant, built upon the covenant with Moses, and even in Jeremiah’s prophecy of the new covenant, God had stated that “I will put my law (Torah) in their hearts.” The Torah of God was well known. On the other hand, God was accepting Gentiles into the covenant as they were, and all agreed that entrance of Gentiles was made possible by the death of Jesus. Paul insisted that Gentiles were no longer under any obligation to the covenant laws of Moses because the age of the Messiah had come. At this point, James, most likely acting as mediator, handed down his decision to permit Gentiles into the covenant according to the gospel of Paul, but they should observe the laws against eating blood, idolatry, and sexual immorality. James also admitted that members of the Jerusalem church had caused trouble for the believers in Antioch without his permission, and therefore, a letter announcing his decision was sent to the congregations in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia. James, however, did not send the letter by Paul and Barnabas but by members in good standing with the mother congregation in Jerusalem, Barsabbas and Silas. The Jerusalem church, or a significant group of its leaders, expected the Jesus movement to remain as two distinct groups, Jews and Gentiles, equal in God’s grace but separate in practice, including table fellowship, each abiding by their own laws of the covenant. There was a model ready at hand, those Gentile God-fearers who associated with Jews throughout the Diaspora but did not fully convert to Judaism. And it is quite likely that Jerusalem Pharisees would have criticized the social practices of Hellenistic Jews across the Diaspora for similar reasons. Whether James and Paul ever were fully reconciled is unknown, but it seems unlikely. Jews had long been wrestling with the inclusion of Gentiles into the mercy of God and as with the conversion of Izates, some said circumcision was required, others said not. At this stage, Gentiles who became God-fearers (monotheists) were welcomed into the Court of Gentiles of the temple and would receive salvation as such. Philo likewise says of such uncircumcised believers in the God of Israel that their kinship with Jews is in many respects deeper than blood kinship, and as proof of their righteous standing, he notes that Israel itself was uncircumcised in Egypt and in the wilderness, yet they received the salvation of God.126 But acceptance by God did not make them Jews, merely righteous Gentiles. Paul also accepted, or conceived by himself, the belief that the resurrection of Jesus had inaugurated the great resurrection of the last days, predicted by Daniel. He was still a young believer, vigorously developing his mission, when Caligula


attempted to set up his statue in Jerusalem and force the Jews to recognize that he was God. This threat surely sharpened the focus of his eschatological expectations, when “the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of perdition, who opposes and exalts himself against every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, proclaiming himself to be God.”127 These were heady times, and it was probably during this decade that Paul had additional visions, including the memorable one in which he was caught up into heaven, whether in the body or out of the body, he could not say, and there he heard things for his own sake, which he was not permitted to reveal to anyone else.128 Paul also believed that God had given him a “thorn in the flesh,” some infirmity, perhaps the irony of poor sight, just to prevent him from pride in the many visions granted by God.

Chapter 12

The Great War (54–70 c.e.) 12.1 Rome 12.1.1 Nero Shortly after Claudius stopped breathing, the prefect of the Praetorian Guard, Sextus Afranius Burrus, marched to the senate and proclaimed Nero emperor. The senate had little choice than to confer the imperial powers upon him. And they promptly deified Claudius, thus enhancing the position of his successor. The caustic Spaniard, Seneca, lampooned the senate’s apotheosis of the dead emperor in the satire Apocolocyntosis divi Claudii, “The Pumpkinification of the Divine Claudius” (or, as others have rendered the Latin, “The Apotheosis of Claudius the Gourd”). The first 5 years of Nero’s reign were judged by ancient historians as excellent, the Golden Age, partly because Nero left the decisions of rule to Seneca and the prefect of the Praetorian Guard, Sextus Afranius Burrus. Nero corrected areas of bureaucratic corruption that had crept into the administration of Claudius, reduced the influence of freedmen, and paid greater respect to the authority of the senate. He sent the experienced general Corbulo to repair the Roman reputation in Armenia, but it took Corbulo 4 years to whip the eastern army into shape. In 58, he invaded Armenia but found it impossible to sustain the Roman client king Tigranes (V) on the Armenian throne. Parthia engaged Rome in a series of skirmishes and the Armenian problem was not resolved until 66, when it was agreed that the Parthian candidate for the throne of Armenia, Tiridates, brother of Vologeses I, would receive his crown as a vassal of Rome.129 Nero trumpeted the event as a great military victory. After Nero grew accustomed to his august position, he found the interference of his mother, Agrippina, more tiresome. When she suggested his half-brother would make a better emperor, Britannicus was soon found poisoned. When Nero, unhappily married to his mother’s choice of Octavia, fell in love with Poppea Sabina, the wife of Otho, one of his generals, the general and his wife obliged the emperor’s desires, but his mother pestered him over the affair. Nero decided his mother’s counsel was no longer useful, and he had Agrippina murdered in 59. The matricide was roundly condemned, and according to Tacitus, marked the decline of his rule. The revolt of Britain under Queen Boudicca cost Nero a good deal of prestige. According to Tacitus, it all began with the folly of the Roman commanders. The


client king Prasutagus of the Iceni tribe died in 60, and without a male heir, he left his wealth to his daughters and Nero, expecting Roman protection for his family. When the Roman governor annexed his kingdom, soldiers plundered his house while slaves raped his daughters, and his queen, Boudicca, was imprisoned. The Icenian chiefs were also deprived of their estates. Boudicca led her tribe and others in a revolt against the Romans. Initially the tribes defeated the Romans and plundered villages and towns, including the abandoned Londinium (London). Roman and provincial deaths were said to be 70,000. But in a final, pitched battle, the British natives were defeated, losing nearly 80,000 according to one report. Boudicca ended her life by poison. With the death of the Praetorian prefect Burrus in 62, Seneca felt he had no more influence with Nero and begged leave of the emperor to retire. Leave was not granted, and thereafter Seneca’s own position was tenuous. The new Praetorian prefect, Tigellinus, encouraged Nero to begin removing his enemies, both imagined and real. The innocent empress Octavia was among the first to go. Nero divorced her for barrenness, then banished her on a fabricated charge of adultery, and finally he had her severed head delivered. Thereafter, Poppea Sabina became empress. The following year Nero added a preoccupation with strange religious cults, all of which were denounced by the people of Rome. His control of the affairs of state and his personal esteem deteriorated steadily, and disaffection spread throughout the empire. In 64, a fire broke out in Rome, destroying much of the densely populated city. Although Nero was absent, he was accused of having started the fire (and playing his lyre while it burned), in order to advance his own rebuilding scheme. Nero, says Tacitus, sought to distract the angry crowds and seized upon the growing sect of Christians as scapegoats. First, Nero had self-acknowledged Christians arrested. Then, on their information, large numbers of others were condemned—not so much for incendiarism as for their anti-social tendencies (odio humani generis). Their deaths were made farcical. Dressed in wild animal’s skins, they were torn to pieces by dogs, or crucified, or made into torches to be ignited after dark as substitutes for daylight. Nero provided his Gardens for the spectacle, and exhibited displays in the Circus, at which he mingled with the crowds—or stood in a chariot, dressed as a charioteer.130

Having transferred his guilt to the scapegoats, Nero made great efforts to provide shelter and food for the many homeless citizens of Rome. When the charred debris had been removed, he launched an ambitious rebuilding program. Cities of the empire were encouraged to contribute. He replaced the winding, crowded passageways with broad avenues, parks, and his famous Golden House, a complex that, had he lived to complete it, would have taken up a third of the city. Nero grew ever more preoccupied with his own pleasures and art. A lifelong philhellene, he introduced to high society his love for the arts—which the Greeks preferred over bloody gladiatorial games—and established in 60 the first public games after the Greek system, with contests in poetry, oratory, lyre, and song. He had wished to compete himself, but high society deemed artistic performance

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beneath their dignity, and his entourage dissuaded him. At the second games in 65, Nero did participate and earned the enduring reputation of a bore among the upper class, but his performances were wildly popular among the masses. Poppea Sabina died in 65, and Nero lost the child in her womb. Both Tacitus and Suetonius report that Nero, in a fit of anger, kicked her to death.131 In his grief, Nero embalmed his queen with spices and deified the lost infant. That same year, a number of leading senators and equestrians formed a conspiracy to replace Nero with the respected and wealthy Calpurnius Piso. The plot was betrayed, and Piso, rather than draw the conspirators together to oppose Nero, committed suicide. Nero was reportedly shocked at the numbers who opposed him, but in the end, only 18 of them were executed. Others were soon suspected of compliance, among them Seneca, who was ordered to commit suicide, and did so. The following year, Nero embarked on a tour of Greece, where the audiences appeared to appreciate his artistic talents.

12.1.2 Judaea before the War The governor of Judaea, Antonius Felix, remained in office during the early years of Nero. Felix, a former slave, is remembered for his servile nature and poor administration of Judaea. Struck by the beauty of Drusilla, a sister of Agrippa II, he succeeded in making her his wife, and did so without being circumcised, though Drusilla had required it of her previous royal husband, Azizus king of Emesa. In this, says Josephus, Drusilla transgressed ancestral laws, and it did not endear Felix to the zealous or the masses.132 Felix also ordered the assassination of a former high priest Jonathan, who had initially favored the appointment of Felix but had since withdrawn his support because of the governor’s maladministration.133 A trusted friend of Jonathan employed Jewish brigands to approach the chief priest during worship with daggers concealed and kill him. The deed went unpunished, and thereafter a grassroots anarchy blanketed the land, as men began to kill for vengeance or for hire, even in the temple. Thus was born a new species of banditti, the sicarii, so named for the short curved dagger (sicae) carried under the cloak, which penetrated beneath the ribs and went swiftly to the heart.134 Amid the general disaffection with Roman rule, a variety of prophets appeared, calling the masses to follow them into the desert, where they would see signs and marvels. Felix dealt harshly with them, but one prophet from Egypt gathered a throng 30,000 strong, according to Josephus, but a more realistic 4000 according to Acts, and led them on a meandering march through the desert toward the Mount of Olives, where he predicted the walls of Jerusalem would collapse and that he would overcome the Roman solders and set himself up as tyrant in Jerusalem. Felix met them with heavy infantry and slaughtered many, though the Egyptian escaped. A battle broke out in Caesarea between the Jewish and Syrian residents, each claiming more original rights to determine how the city should be governed. Although Herod the Great had built the city, its earlier town called Strato’s Tower


had been a Syrian trading port, and the initial population of Herod’s Caesarea was exclusively Gentile. Daily skirmishes increased between the Jews and Syrians until the soldiers of Felix fell upon the Jews, who were gaining the advantage, and killed many. Then Felix directed each side to send an embassy to Nero for a decision.135 By 59 or 60, a new procurator, Porcius Festus, was sent to Judaea. Festus is most famous for his review of the case against a prisoner named Paul, who had come to trial under Felix, but the event would scarcely have been remembered by the beleaguered procurator. Festus inherited the mess left by Felix, which Josephus describes as a land full of bandits, the “principal plague of the country.” Festus captured and executed scores, if not hundreds, of such anarchists. Agrippa added to the problems of Festus by constructing a new dining room to his palace from which he could observe the priestly rituals in the temple. The priests responded by building a wall to prevent the royal peeper, and Festus ordered them to tear down the wall. They brought their case before Festus, and in the end, he agreed to let them appeal to Nero. When they had done so, the emperor, no doubt influenced by his wife Poppea, a devotee of Judaism, let the wall stand. Festus died while in office in 62, and Nero sent Albinus (62–64) to replace him. Josephus says the recently appointed high priest, Ananus (II) the son of Ananus (I), also a member of the Sadducees, took advantage of the brief absence of a Roman governor to bring James, the brother of Jesus, among others, to trial on charges of transgressing the law. The council found them guilty, and they were executed by stoning.136 A later tradition says James was pushed off the pinnacle of the temple, then stoned, and finally killed by a fuller’s club.137 After his martyrdom, a number of Jerusalem inhabitants, “strict in the observance of the law,” probably Pharisees, urged King Agrippa to intervene, while others informed the new procurator, Albinus, of the illegal executions of the council. Albinus threatened vengeance on him, and Agrippa deposed Ananus, replacing him with Jesus son of Damnaeus. The march to anarchy in Judaea accelerated under Albinus, whose sole purpose, it appears, was to enrich himself during his term of office. He accepted ransom payments for release of prisoners, and the sicarii, when they could not afford to free their men, simply kidnapped wealthy men and used their ransom money to pay Albinus. A notable exchange came when the sicarii abducted the secretary of the temple captain, Eleazar, a son of Ananias, and secured the release of 10 leading sicarii from prison.138 The leading priestly families also fought against the priests, who sided with the rebels and the general population, hiring thugs to curse them and throw stones. Josephus says the chief priests would send slaves to the threshing floors where lesser priests received the tithe and seize the grain by force, even beating with staves those who resisted, so that many of the poorer priests died of want. Rabbinic tradition preserves a lament from these days.139 Woe is me because of the house of Ishmael the son of Phabi, woe is me because of their fists! For they are high priests and their sons are [temple] treasurers and their sons-inlaw are trustees and their servants beat the people with staves.

Josephus also recalls a disturbing portent begun during the Feast of Tabernacles in the autumn of 62. A peasant called Jesus son of Ananias stood in the temple

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and cried, “A voice from the east, a voice from the west, a voice from the four winds; a voice against Jerusalem and the sanctuary, a voice against the bridegroom and the bride, a voice against all the people.” Day and night he went through the city with this cry on his lips. The leaders dared not silence him, fearing he might be under divine impulse, so they took him before Albinus. The procurator had him flayed to the bone, but he wailed with each stroke, “Woe to Jerusalem.” Albinus finally judged him insane and released him. The prophet of woe healed and kept up his daily vigil for seven and a half years until the start of the siege of Jerusalem. Then someone threw a boulder and struck him on the head. He perished still crying woe. By then, Josephus tells us, another oracle from sacred Scripture was floating in the air; that at this time “one from their country would become ruler of the world.”140 At this time the work on the temple, which had continued (including repairs) since Herod began it in 20 b.c.e., came to an end. This left 18,000 workers unemployed, and Agrippa kept the peace by hiring them to pave the streets of Jerusalem with white stones. Agrippa then replaced the high priest Jesus with Matthias the son of Theophilus, although the former high priest Ananias (47–59) remained a leading figure in the political turmoil.141 Toward the end of his 2 years in office, Albinus emptied the prisons, releasing those who could pay a ransom and crucifying the rest. The final governor of Judaea, Gessius Florus (64–66), was such, says Josephus, that he made Albinus look like a paragon of virtue.142 The extortion Albinus had practiced secretly, Florus redoubled and flaunted openly. Where Albinus despoiled families, Florus raped whole cities. As a result, the rebels flourished, banditry spread, and tribute fell. Ever since the Jewish delegation lost the suit in Rome over control of Caesarea, the emboldened Syrians of Caesarea had provoked the Jews. In May of 66, Syrians obstructed the passageway to the synagogue of Caesarea, and one provocateur sacrificed a bird on an overturned pot outside the entrance on a sabbath, insinuating that Jews were lepers, a favorite calumny against Jews in the Diaspora.143 A Jewish elder offered Florus eight talents to provide a safe passage to their synagogue, but he merely took the money and departed for Sebaste. Anticipating a battle, the elders removed the Torah scroll from the synagogue and fled. When they appealed to Florus, he imprisoned them for removing a copy of the Law from Caesarea. News of this injustice infuriated Jerusalem, and Florus responded by confiscating 17 talents from the temple treasury, ostensibly for arrears in tribute.144 A group of young wags ridiculed the greed of Florus by passing begging bowls around Jerusalem to raise donations for the poor procurator. The dignity of Florus was duly bruised, and he handed over part of the city to be sacked by a detachment of troops. Perhaps under orders, they let loose their own contempt and seized various members of the upper class, scourged them, and crucified them. The following day, Florus demanded the citizens of Jerusalem formally welcome two returning cohorts to the city. The city leaders persuaded the people to do so, but when the troops ignored the public greetings, the humiliated crowds shouted insults against Florus. The soldiers quickly broke ranks, drew their swords, and drove the people back into the city, killing and maiming all the way. Josephus undoubtedly amplifies the


Roman negligence as part of his buildup to the war, but the Roman administration generally reflected the policies of the emperor. In an earlier time, under a different Caesar, Florus would have been sharply rebuked by the legate of Syria and sent back to Caesar for maladministration. But under the deteriorating rule of Nero, the entire empire suffered.

12.1.3 The Great War King Agrippa II, his sister Berenice, and the Jerusalem leaders attempted in vain to bring the people under control. Further submission to Florus, however, lay beyond their endurance. Then came the decisive act. Eleazar, a son of Ananias, persuaded the priesthood to suspend the daily sacrifice on behalf of the emperor, along with those brought by any Gentiles. The twice daily sacrifice on behalf of the emperor, instituted by Augustus, was the diplomatic ritual of loyalty between Judaea and Rome, by which the emperor supplicated the god of the Jews for divine blessings and the Jews therefore gave their loyalty to the emperor. The cessation of the imperial daily sacrifice was a declaration of independence and therefore of war.145 Virtually all the ruling class of Judaea opposed this action, but they no longer carried authority. The aristocracy, including many Pharisees, resorted to force, and with the help of Agrippa’s cavalry gained control of the upper west part of the city, but the rebels kept control of the temple mount and the lower city. Jerusalem was in a state of civil war between rebels and loyalists to Rome. Around this time, Menachem, a grandson of Judas the Galilean, led a band of sicarii and raided the fortress of Masada for weapons.146 The fanatical zeal of those bent on overthrowing Roman rule turned the tide in the month of August of 66. The Zealots, as we may now begin to call their party by its proper noun, controlled all Jerusalem. They set fire to the palaces of the high priest and Agrippa and gutted the Office of Records, burning all the archives in order to win a host of debtors to their cause. The populist rebellion was as much class warfare as a bid for any kind of independence. The Zealots themselves soon fell into anarchy. They executed the former high priest Ananias (48–59) and, in the view of Josephus, discarded any possible honor they might have retained.147 The Roman garrison in the Antonia fortress of Jerusalem sued for a surrender. The Zealots granted the soldiers security to depart Jerusalem, leaving their weapons behind, and sent a delegation to seal the capitulation by an exchange of oaths. The Romans thought it best to depart on a sabbath. While the armed soldiers marched through the city, they were left alone, but when they reached the gate and lay down their weapons, the Zealots surrounded them. The Roman soldiers neither resisted nor appealed for mercy but cried out “the oaths, the oaths!” Thus they were butchered, save for their general, who promised to be circumcised and become a Jew. Him they let live.148 With the revolution won in the capital, battles broke out in many other cities in which the conflict between rebel and loyalist was essentially Jew against Gentile. In Caesarea more than 20,000 Jews lost their lives. (It bears remembering that all casualty numbers given by Josephus are estimations, probably inflated, and must be

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taken as representative of large, medium, and small groups.) The enraged Jews responded by attacking Syrians in towns and villages throughout Peraea, Galilee, and Judaea.149 In Syria, the equally outraged Greeks fell upon the Jewish communities. Where Jews had a majority, the Gentiles were slaughtered; where Gentiles held the advantage, Jews were slaughtered. Only in three cities of Syria, Antioch, Apamea, and Sidon, did the Gentiles protect their Jewish communities.150 The unrest spread to Alexandria, where during the riots, three Jews were burned alive, and the Jews responded by trying to set fire to the amphitheater where Greeks were assembled. Tiberius Alexander, the prefect of Egypt, attempted to quell the riot by negotiations, but when that failed, he let loose his soldiers on the rioters. Many Jews fought back, but the battle left the Delta quarter in carnage, homes gutted of valuables and burned. When the dead, from infants to the aged, were collected, they tallied roughly 50,000 corpses.151 Rome finally mobilized its strength against the latest insurrection in the empire. Cestius Gallus, the governor of Syria, marched on Jerusalem with the Twelfth Legion and auxiliary forces. While he camped a few miles north of the city, the Jews launched a surprise attack on the Roman army and killed more than 500 while losing but a handful of their own. Among the most distinguished of their ranks, Josephus mentions Monobazus and Cenedaeus, Jewish proselytes and members of the Adiabene royalty. In the month of Tishri (September/October), Cestius took the unprotected northern suburb of Jerusalem, but when his assault on the temple failed, he inexplicably decided to withdraw. Because he was unaware of the many loyalists trying to open the gates to him, perhaps he thought his forces were insufficient for the siege, and with winter approaching, he decided to await reinforcements. But herein lies the key moment of the Great Revolt. As Cestius retreated, he passed through the gorge near Beth-Horon where the rebels fell upon his army and decimated it. Cestius fled in a rout and left their arms to the rebels. Rome lost about 6000 troops. The Zealots interpreted the defeat of a Roman army as divine intervention that augured apocalyptic victory. Despite all the internal strife that followed, a conviction that God was on the side of the rebels fired them with courage to the bitter end. Essenes and more proselytes from Adiabene would join the revolt. Josephus also surmised that God had intervened, but only by turning his back on Jerusalem that they should not see the end of the war on that day. Voices of compromise in Jerusalem were quickly silenced. Roman loyalists and the moderate faction abandoned the city “like a sinking ship.”152 It may be that, as Eusebius later reports, the Nazarene congregation also fled Jerusalem at this time, perhaps settling in Pella, across the Jordan in the Decapolis region.153 The rebels were now in full control, and they organized for the inevitable assault of Rome. They elected new government and priesthood, led by Joseph ben Gorion and the former high priest Ananus (62). The districts of Judaea received commanders, and Galilee was given to Joseph ben Matthias, better known by his Latin name Josephus Flavius, our irreplaceable historian. Josephus undertook the administration of Galilee with enterprise, but with a profound awareness that in the end, no matter what, he would surrender to Rome.


The true rebels apparently sensed his premature resignation, and while Josephus did his best to form an army of the ragtag Galileans and bulwark defenses in their cities, the rebel peasant John of Gischala thwarted Josephus at every turn. It is likely that at this stage, all the leaders of the war council were looking for a way to hand back power to Rome because they knew the rebellion was futile, but they had to retain the confidence of the Zealots. The impoverished masses meanwhile sided with the revolt in hopes of some gain or relief. Sepphoris, a principal city in Galilee, declared its loyalty to Rome and welcomed a Roman garrison. Tiberias, the other leading city of Galilee, was split, with the council and upper class loyal to Rome but the rest favoring the revolt. Josephus sought to gain some authority over the people by ordering the council to demolish all the offensive statues in the palace of Agrippa, and they reluctantly complied, but fooled none of the Zealot leaders. At this point, Nero sacked Cestius Gallus and appointed Flavius Vespasian to suppress the revolt. It was alleged that Vespasian was being punished for falling asleep during one of Nero’s recitals in Greece. The experienced general assembled his forces at Antioch, three legions, with additional auxiliaries, amounting to 60,000. In the spring of 67, Vespasian and his son Titus marched into Galilee. Josephus expected to encounter Vespasian in the hills of northern Galilee, but when his army saw the legions on parade, they recognized the face of death and fled. Josephus retreated to Tiberias with his few companions, reorganized his army, and encamped in the fortress of Jotapatah, just north of Sepphoris.154 Vespasian besieged the city with 160 catapults. Josephus describes at length the valiant resistance he inspired among his troops. Nevertheless, the town was taken by late June. Josephus escaped with forty companions to a cavern. When they were discovered, Josephus negotiated a surrender, but his men preferred to die and gave him only the option of dying as a soldier with them or as a traitor before them. In a rather stark confession, Josephus recounts how he proposed they should each die by the hand of a companion according to an order drawn by lots. They agreed, and the drawing of lots, whether by chance or by the providence of God he did not know, left him as the last man. When all but one of his men had perished by the hand of a companion, Josephus persuaded the other to surrender with him.155 Josephus also assures us that when he stood before Vespasian, he convinced the general that he had a message from God, and it was none other than a prediction that Vespasian would become emperor. By this manner he entered into the entourage of Vespasian and counseled him on the rest of the war. Soon after the fall of Jotapatah, the city Tiberias opened its gate to Vespasian’s son Titus, and the other fortresses of Gamala in Gaulanitis, Mount Tabor, and the northern Zealot stronghold of Gischala fell to the Romans under the sole command of Titus. The Zealot leader John, however, escaped to Jerusalem. By the end of 67, all Galilee was back under Roman control. The Zealots in the countryside fled to Jerusalem or other fortresses in Judaea. John of Gischala took control of the Zealots in Jerusalem and seized power from the aristocratic war council, which included the Pharisee Simon son of Gamaliel the Elder, the former high priests Ananus son of Ananus, and Jesus son of Gamaliel. They deposed the current high priest Matthias son of Theophilus and

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elected a common priest by lot, Phannias son of Samuel, from the obscure village of Aphthia. They dragged the frightened priest into the temple, dressed him with the high-priestly vestments, and instructed him how to perform. Josephus, a member of the priestly elite, called this a “monstrous impiety.”156 And perhaps it was, but it was also a populist reaction to the long-endured abuse by the closely guarded privilege of the aristocratic high-priestly families and their appointment by rulers appointed by Rome. A biblical prophet like Micah might have applauded. But the remaining opposition leaders of high esteem, including the former high priest Ananus, and the Pharisee Simeon b. Gamaliel, saw the move as sacrilege, the ultimate sin, and stirred up the people to “purge the sanctuary of its bloodstained polluters.” Josephus composed a speech of righteous indignation for Ananus, in which he equated the tyranny of the Zealots to slavery and the rule of Rome to liberty, because Zealots kill their brethren and profane the sacred sanctuary, while Rome preserved the boundary line between Jews and Gentiles and secured the right of Jews to worship God.157 The speech, of course, was for later readers. Whatever Ananus and Simeon b. Gamaliel may have said at the time, it merely aroused the Zealots and led to a pitched battle. Ananus and his people secured the outer courts, but the Zealots held the sanctuary. The Zealots appealed to the Idumaeans for support, and John of Gischala succeeded in smuggling a band of their soldiers into Jerusalem during a torrential rain. There followed a reign of terror, during which the Zealots destroyed the aristocratic moderate party, ransacked their homes, and executed the former high priests Ananus and Jesus.158 John of Gischala was now the supreme leader, and the Idumaeans departed with their loot. Throughout the campaign season of 68, Vespasian controlled Peraea and captured the major cities of Judaea, from Jericho and Antipatris in the east to Lydda, Jamnia, Emmaus, Samaria, and Neapolis. All that remained was Jerusalem and a few fortress outposts. Then came news of the death of Nero on June 9, 68. Vespasian ceased operations and awaited the succession of a new emperor. When word came that Galba had been declared emperor, Vespasian sent Titus to pay his respects and await any new command about the war, but Titus got no further than Corinth when he learned of Galba’s assassination in January of 69 and returned to Caesarea. The general Vitellius was declared emperor by the legions of the Rhine, Gaul, Britain, Spain, but in Rome, the Praetorian Guard proclaimed another general, Otho, emperor, and Egypt, Africa, and legions of the Danube and the Euphrates sided with them. Vespasian simply held off to see who would emerge victorious. While Vespasian waited, a new Zealot leader arose to terrorize the land, Simon bar Giora, which meant Simon the son of a proselyte. He led a new band of Zealots to ransack the countryside of Judaea and Idumaea. Vespasian was forced to protect the people, and in June Vespasian resumed subjugation of Judaea. Bar Giora had already entered Jerusalem, where many of the people were now weary of the tyranny of John of Gischala and hoped Bar Giora would neutralize it. But the violence only increased as Bar Giora’s sicarii fought the Zealots loyal to John. It is at this point, in June of 69, that we may insert the rabbinic tradition of the elderly sage, Johanan ben Zakkai, who escaped from Jerusalem. Josephus leaves


the story unmentioned, perhaps because it never happened, or he did not know of it, or he knew and chose to suppress it. The story is undoubtedly a rabbinic foundation legend, but it cannot be dismissed as sheer fiction. That Vespasian, along with his Jewish council which included Josephus, will have engaged Jewish leaders opposed to the Zealots is to be accepted as standard policy. According to the story, Johanan ben Zakkai realized that Jerusalem was doomed, and he managed to have his disciples smuggle him out of Jerusalem in a casket. He then went to the camp of Vespasian and was given an audience as a leader of the moderate party in Jerusalem. Ben Zakkai explained that it was prophesied in the Hebrew Scriptures in the book of Isaiah that Vespasian would capture and destroy Jerusalem, but also that Vespasian would ascend to the throne of the emperor. Vespasian rebuked Ben Zakkai for committing treason by calling him emperor but allowed that it were possible. He then granted Ben Zakkai a request. The aged Pharisee asked for a city, Jamnia, where the sages could set up a school to teach the Jewish law, and that the family of Gamaliel be given liberty after the fall of Jerusalem to lead the people. Vespasian granted his requests.159 Vespasian had just returned to Caesarea after securing Judaea when word came that Vitellius had defeated Otho and was proclaimed emperor. The person of Vitellius, famed for his gluttony, inspired no confidence in Egypt or the east. On July 1, the Jewish governor Tiberius Alexander declared Egypt for Vespasian, and two days later all the eastern legions followed suit. Vespasian gave Titus the task of taking Jerusalem and entrusted the remaining Flavian forces to his brother Sabinus to march against Rome, while he joined Tiberius Alexander in Egypt, where he could control the grain supply on which Rome depended. At this time Josephus was also given his liberty. A third faction emerged in Jerusalem under the leadership of the priest Eleazar son of Simon, who had gained his reputation early in the war. Eleazar seized control of the inner forecourt of the temple and fought for supreme command from there. During the ceaseless internal struggles, the massive grain stores were burned to prevent a rival from controlling them, and the people began to starve. Titus had four legions at his disposal, including the Twelfth, which had been under the command of Cestius. Titus brought Tiberius Alexander from Egypt as chief of staff, and Josephus also served in the war council. Jerusalem was a city set on two hills, separated by the so-called Tyropean Valley. The western hill, called the upper city, was larger and higher than the eastern hill which included the temple mount and the old City of David. The northern district, called the New City (Bethzeda), had been enclosed by the third wall begun by Agrippa I but only recently completed by the Zealots. Titus encamped on Mount Scopus (lookout place), from where all Jerusalem could be seen. The siege of Jerusalem began just before Passover of 70. Soon after Titus began building the ramparts for the siege engines, however, the factions finally came to their senses and joined common cause. The Romans attacked the weakest point, the western side of the third wall, not far from the modern Jaffa Gate. Wood towers were erected outside the wall from which archers protected the battering rams. The tallest ram tower of 25 meters high was called Victor, because of its victory over all

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obstacles. Toward the end of May, the Romans broke through and demolished the remains of the New City, still largely in a state of ruins since the campaign of Cestius.160 Despite valiant resistance and Zealot attempts to lure Roman soldiers into vulnerable positions, the battering rams quickly penetrated the second wall. Titus permitted all the people caught behind the second wall to depart unhurt, and he promised their property would be protected. According to Josephus, Titus hoped to keep the city and the temple intact for the benefit of Rome. While building four ramparts, two against the upper city and two against the Antonia fortress, Josephus walked around the city just beyond the range of the arrows and attempted to convince the Zealots to surrender.161 Some of the starving citizens dared escape at the risk of death from the Zealots. They gave information about the terrible starvation in the city, unburied bodies in the streets, and huddled women and children in the last stages of life. Zealots dug tunnels under the ramparts and caused their collapse. Before rebuilding them, Titus erected a wall around the remaining city to tighten the starvation. Daily, more starving people fled the city. Some were so bloated from starvation that when given food, they gorged themselves and died. Many swallowed gold coins before their escape, but after Syrian and Arab soldiers saw a man searching for coins in his excrement, they began ripping open the bellies of refugees looking for gold in their intestines. Titus forbade this, but the practice continued. After new ramparts were constructed in twenty-one days, the attack resumed and the Antonia fortress was taken. On Tammuz 17 (August 6), the daily sacrifice ceased for lack of men to perform it. A second call for surrender by Josephus was ignored. The Romans erected new ramparts against the temple mount, but the massive walls resisted the battering rams. Titus fired the gates, and on Av 9, when they were completely burned, Titus held his war council. He put before them the fate of the temple. His advisers agreed that if the Zealots surrendered, the temple should be spared, but if they mounted it to fight, then it was a fortress, not a sanctuary. Josephus assures us that Titus, against the advice of his council, wished to spare the temple as an ornament to the empire, so that it should not be burned even if the Zealots fought from it. The attempt by Josephus to remove all guilt for the destruction of the temple from his patron Titus has been viewed skeptically by historians. Tacitus, if he is the source for the later Christian historian Sulpicius Severus, wrote that Titus and several of his council decided “the Temple should be destroyed without delay, in order that the religion of the Jews and Christians should be more completely exterminated. For those religions, though opposed to one another, derive from the same founders; the Christians stemmed from the Jews and the extirpation of the root would easily cause the offspring to perish.”162 The next day, on Av 10, the battle was engaged in the outer courts. The Zealots fought with fanatical fury, but by the fifth hour, they were exhausted and shut themselves up in the inner temple courts. Titus returned to the Antonia intending to resume fighting the next day, but fate would not be thwarted, says Josephus, for it was on Av 10 that the first temple had been destroyed, and so it must be for the present temple.163 Another skirmish broke out, and while soldiers were extinguishing a fire in the inner court, one soldier took a firebrand and cast it through the


golden window along the north wall. From there the flames spread. Titus ran to the temple and gave orders to extinguish the flames, but amid the mounting chaos his shouts went unheard. The impetuosity of the legionnaires, when they joined the fray, neither exhortation nor threat could restrain; passion was for all the only leader. Crushed together about the entrances, many were trampled down by their companions; many, stumbling on the still hot and smoldering ruins of the porticoes, suffered the fate of the vanquished. As they drew nearer to the sanctuary they pretended not even to hear Caesar’s orders and shouted to those in front of them to throw in the firebrands. The insurgents, for their part, were now powerless to help; and on all sides was carnage and flight. Most of the slain were civilians, weak and unarmed people, each butchered where he was caught. Around the altar a pile of corpses was accumulating; down the steps of the sanctuary flowed a stream of blood, and the bodies of the victims killed above went sliding to the bottom.164

In the end, the entire temple mount was burned and demolished. John of Gischala and Bar Giora escaped with some men to the Upper City, but this too was taken in September after the lower city had been destroyed. The soldiers set up their military standards and sang the victory hymn. The Judaeans who were not murdered by soldiers during the looting were sold into slavery. Titus kept John of Gischala and Simon Bar Giora captive for his triumph. The city was razed to the ground, except for three towers of Herod’s palace and a segment of wall as a monument to its former greatness, and a defense for the Tenth Legion that remained as a garrison.165 Titus left the capture of the three fortresses, Herodium, Machaerus, and Masada, to his generals, and returned to Rome. On the way, he held victory celebrations in various cities and forced some 2500 Zealots to kill each other in gladiatorial combat or had them burned alive.166 In 71, Titus celebrated a joint triumph with his father Vespasian and his brother Domitian. The Zealot leaders John of Gischala and Simon Bar Giora were paraded along with 700 captives. Others carried the golden Table of Showbread and the seven-branched menorah of the temple. Later Vespasian built the Temple of the Goddess of Peace and deposited the Jerusalem temple utensils within. Their fate is uncertain, but they probably remained in Rome until the Vandals sacked the city in 455, when they were taken to Africa, and finally to Constantinople in 534, by then thought to be relics of Solomon.167

12.2 Jews: The Last “Pharisees” Apart from the tumult of Jewish affairs recounted by Josephus during the reign of Nero, we know of one leading Pharisee family, Gamaliel the Elder, and his son, Simeon, praised by Josephus as illustrious in Jerusalem.168 Simeon was active in the preparations for war against Rome. We may assume other Pharisees were involved in the war. Another Jewish scholar, perhaps a Pharisee, whose star will rise, was Johanan ben Zakkai ( fl. 40–80), often called simply Ben Zakkai.169 Johanan is also tied by

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tradition to Hillel as the least, or last, of his disciples. If Johanan was a disciple of Hillel, in spirit if not in fact, it would explain his reputation for peace. It was perhaps in response to the Jewish destruction of a Hellenic altar in Jamnia that led to the order to install the statue that Ben Zakkai said, “Do not tear down pagan altars lest you be forced to build them with your own hands. Do not tear down altars of wood, lest they say to you: Come and build them of stone.” Like Hillel, his life is divided into three periods of 40 years, yielding the honorary 120.170 Initially he was a merchant, then a student of Torah, and finally a master. For 18 years he led a small school in Arav, a town in lower Galilee. Johanan ben Zakkai had a reputation for teaching in the shadow of the temple. Tradition knows of five disciples: Eliezer b. Hyrcanus, Joshua b. Hananiah, Jose the Priest, Simeon b. Nathaniel, and Eleazar b. Arak. The first two will become the greatest sages of the next generation, and Eliezer will be called “the Great,” while nothing is known of the last two. According to Ben Zakkai, “If all the sages of Israel were in the one scale of the balance and Eliezer b. Hyrcanus in the other, he would outweigh them all.” But another tradition preserves a comment by Ben Zakkai that puts greatness in perspective. “If all the sages of Israel were in the one scale of the balance and with them Eliezer b. Hyrcanus, and Eleazar b. Arak in the other, he would outweigh them all.”171 Ben Zakkai is also portrayed arguing with the Sadducees. In one debate the Sadducees protested that Pharisees appear to treat the books of Homer (or Greek philosophical works) as more sacred than Scriptures, because they declare that a scroll of Scripture is a source of ritual impurity while the books of Homer are not. Ben Zakkai noted that Sadducees treat the bones of a high priest as rendering impurity but not the bones of an ass. The Sadducees replied that people will not make profane use of things that are declared ritually impure, such as making spoons from the bones of their parents. Ben Zakkai argued that likewise the Pharisees protect Scripture by declaring it renders the hands ritually impure when handled, whereas the books of Homer are not so important.172 Apart from the few named individuals at this time, the Pharisee houses or schools of Hillel and Shammai had by now solidified into their own camps. We do not know how many of the Pharisees were associated with these houses, but they are among those who helped make the transition from the Pharisees to the sages after the war. They disputed over many topics and provide a context for firstcentury discussion in Judaism. Two examples: [Concerning the ritual of the meal] The House of Shammai say, “One recites the blessing over the day then one recites the blessing over the wine.” But the House of Hillel say, “One recites the blessing over the wine and then one recites the blessing over the day.” The house of Shammai say, “They wash the hands and then mix the cup [of wine].” But the House of Hillel say, “They mix the cup and then wash the hands.” The House of Shammai say, “One wipes his hands on the napkin and places it on the table.” But the House of Hillel say, “On the cushion.”173 [Concerning life] Our Rabbis taught: For two and a half years were the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel in dispute, the former asserting that it were better for man

244 Vines Intertwined not to have been created than to have been created, and the latter maintaining that it is better for man to have been created than not to have been created. They finally took a vote and decided that it were better for man not to have been created than to have been created, but now that he has been created, let him investigate his past deeds [for sin] or, as others say, let him examine his future actions [to avoid sin].174

These are arguments only scholars can appreciate, and it is doubtful they ever came to blows over philosophy or table manners. They associated together, and members of each house would sometimes consult, or agree, with the other house. We are told that on some matters, “the more scrupulous of the House of Hillel used to observe the words of the House of Shammai.”175 During the reigns of Caligula, Claudius, and Nero, as the tension mounted that led to war, dissension among the houses also increased. “Now once the disciples of Shammai and Hillel who did not adequately serve their master had become many, contentions multiplied in Israel, and they became two Torahs.”176 One famous tradition recounts that in the years before the war, the leaders of the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai met in the upper chamber of Hananiah b. Hezekiah b. Garon, who is thought to have been the leader of the House of Shammai. “When they went up to visit him they took a count, and the House of Shammai outnumbered the House of Hillel: eighteen things did they decree that day.”177 In the memory of later sages, the moment was a black day when the House of Shammai had gained ascendancy over the House of Hillel.

12.3 Christians: End of the Apostolic Era 12.3.1 Paul The history of Jesus movement during the reign of Nero, for lack of evidence other than Acts, is dominated by the life of Paul, who spent the last years of his life in missions to the Gentiles and collecting an offering for believers in Judaea. He took up the collection perhaps partly to ensure some support from them, that his labor not be entirely in vain, but also out of his reverence for the mother congregation of Jerusalem. It is possible that Nazarenes felt they should support the congregation of Jerusalem just as Jews supported the temple with the half-shekel contribution. From Antioch, Paul traveled through Asia Minor to the northwestern city of Troas and crossed over to Macedonia and Greece. The traditional three missionary journeys taken from Acts may provide a hypothetical itinerary. According to Acts, Paul often went straight to the synagogue in any given city and preached and argued, convincing a few Jews and devout Greeks and then moving on. Paul never mentions the synagogues in his letters, but his message, which drew so heavily on the Hebrew Scriptures, would have made only sense in a Jewish and sympathetic Gentile God-fearer context. And Paul’s own tally of his hardships features his Jewish brethren. Five times I have received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I have been beaten with rods; once I was stoned. Three times I have been shipwrecked;

The Great War 245 a night and a day I have been adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brethren; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure.178

Paul established congregations at Philippi, Thessalonika, and Corinth, among other places. He worked with different companions along the way, chiefly Silas, Titus, and Timothy, as well as Mark, Epaphroditus, Aristarchus, Demas, Philemon, and Luke. In Ephesus, Paul joined forces with Aquila and Prisca (Priscilla), two Jewish believers caught in the expulsion of Jews from Rome under Claudius. While in Ephesus, before returning to Jerusalem, Paul wrote a letter to the congregation in Rome, in the hopes of clarifying his gospel to them so that they would receive him when he journeyed to Spain after delivering the offering from the congregations in Macedonia and Achaia to the poor among the saints at Jerusalem.179 Finally, with a considerable gift of money donated by his many Gentile congregations for the believers in Judaea, he returned to Jerusalem. The early congregations, whether founded by Paul or others, formed the basic urban mold of early Christianity, located in the major cities of the empire, whence they could expand to surrounding villages. The members came from the breadth of Greco-Roman society, excluding perhaps the upper and lower extremes. However, when a head of a household, whether male or female, accepted the faith, it was customary for everyone in the household, including infants and slaves, to be enrolled through baptism into the congregation. Among Paul’s congregations, we hear of wealthy artisans and traders, those of high and low income, freedmen and a few slaves, and from the upper echelons, wealthy women, some widows, as well as members of Caesar’s household, that is, magistrates. There seem to have been few day laborers or members of the senatorial class. People met in the homes of the wealthy, many of whom were widows. Later they would transform homes into worship centers on the basic pattern of the synagogue. Paul was working in Asia Minor, based in Ephesus, when Claudius died in 54. Two years later, he again visited his church in Corinth. In 57, Paul went up to Jerusalem for Passover with the offering from the congregation in Macedonia and Achaia to the poor among the saints at Jerusalem. Following Luke’s account, which begins with one of the eyewitness “we” passages in Acts, Paul was warned in Caesarea not to go to Jerusalem, where he would be arrested and handed over to the Gentiles. He would not be persuaded. In Jerusalem, Paul and his traveling companions lodged in the house of Mnason, a Jew from Cyprus, that is, a Hellenist believer. Luke says “the brethren received us gladly,” but whether these were only the Hellenists or the entire Jerusalem congregation is not clear. When Paul met James and the elders, he told them of the advance of the gospel among the Gentiles. They rejoiced and pointed out the advance in Judaea, that the thousands of believers among the Jews were all zealous for the law. Concerning the law, they noted, word had spread that Paul was teaching Jews through the Diaspora to forsake Moses, to neither circumcise their children nor observe the


customs. James and the elders were justifiably worried that association with Paul would undermine their mission to the Jews, especially the many who had come up for the Passover. They advised Paul to demonstrate his own observance of the laws of Moses publically by purifying himself along with four Jewish believers under vow, and paying for the priestly shaving of their heads in the temple when they had completed their vows. This would demonstrate his support for Torah observance among the Jewish believers. Paul did as they requested, no doubt abiding by his own dictum to be a Jew to the Jews as much as submitting to the Jerusalem congregation, but in the temple some Jews from Asia who knew Paul by sight stirred up a crowd by claiming Paul had brought a Gentile beyond the barrier to the Court of the Israelites. The crowd dragged Paul out of the temple and attempted to kill him, which they had a legal right to do if had he broken the law restricting Gentiles, but Roman soldiers intervened and arrested him. Paul, no doubt bruised and bloodied, was allowed to speak to the crowd, but he only infuriated them all the more. They shouted, “Away with such a fellow from the earth.” When the tribune learned Paul was a Roman citizen, he kept him in custody until they could figure out the problem and then look for a solution. The high priest Ananias held a council to render a verdict on Paul. Knowing the council contained Pharisees and Sadducees, Paul claimed to be on trial because of his hope in the resurrection. The Pharisees judged him innocent, dissension broke out, and the tribune ordered Paul back into custody and soon took him to Caesarea. It is curious, and perhaps significant, that James and the elders never came to Paul’s aid, nor does Luke confirm that the Jerusalem congregation accepted the Gentile gift for the poor. Given the tendency of Luke to smooth over conflicts among the early believers, the absence of brotherly love during the arrest and imprisonment of Paul cries out in its silence. Possibly, the Jewish believers felt that accepting any aid from Gentiles at the hand of Paul, like the question of table fellowship, would compromise them further in the effort to retain their respectable identity as Judaeans and upholders of Torah. It has been proposed that the advice given to Paul by the Jerusalem elders was a trap, and when it had sprung, they washed their hands of him. While possible, it goes rather beyond the face value of the account. Paul had many enemies among his own people, and particularly among the priesthood for whom he had once worked. The earlier Paul would have killed the later Paul without hesitation, and James himself would soon die at the hands of the priestly families. Paul remained a prisoner in Caesarea until the new administration of Festus. Finally he received a hearing, during which he appealed for a trial and verdict by Caesar. Paul was taken by ship under Roman guard to Rome. His voyage became an adventure when the ship was caught in a storm and sank off the coast of Malta, where Paul and the crew survived the winter. This was his second shipwreck at sea. Paul arrived in Italy in the summer of 60. Believers from the congregation in Rome met him on the way and escorted him to the city. He was placed under house arrest, and the history of Acts breaks off with these words: “He lived there two whole years at his own expense, and welcomed all who came to him, preaching the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ quite openly and unhindered.”180

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Tradition is mixed on the final end of Paul. The earliest testimony comes from the presbyter (or bishop) of the congregation in Rome, Clement, around 95. Through jealousy and strife Paul showed the way to the prize of endurance; seven times he was in bonds, he was exiled, he was stoned, he was a herald both in the East and in the West, he gained the noble fame of his faith, he taught righteousness to all the world, and when he had reached the limits of the West he gave his testimony before the rulers, and thus passed from the world and was taken up into the Holy Place,—the greatest example of endurance.181

The statement “he had reached the limits of the West” was later thought to refer to Spain, though it may mean the limits of Paul’s mission, which in the west was Rome. Had Paul gone to Spain, we would expect Clement to say so, and other traditions to have developed around it, especially from the later Christians in Spain. The “jealousy and strife” suggest Paul was not welcomed by many among the believers in Rome, and certainly not among the Jews.182 From a personal statement, probably incorporated into a later circular letter, Paul testifies to his abandonment by fellow workers, with only Luke beside him.183 Paul probably died alone and abandoned during the persecution of Christians by Nero. What he thought on the day of his death, along with the when and the where of it, lies buried in a nameless grave— even though a place outside of Rome was later designated as the burial site of Peter and Paul. Throughout his life Paul was concerned that he might not measure up to his calling. What would he lay before the feet of his Lord at the last judgment? As a driven man, this was his battle. His epitaph, perhaps bequeathed by a disciple, read: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”184

12.3.2 Peter Peter’s relatively minor but important place in the Acts of the Apostles, as well as his reputation in church tradition, suggests that he played a more prominent role in church leadership, at least in Asia Minor, than our evidence records. Eusebius supposes, according to unclear sources, that Peter preached to the Diaspora Jews in Pontus, Galatia, Bithynia, Cappadocia, and Asia Minor before coming to Rome. The traditions that Peter founded the congregation of Rome are much later, and with little historical merit. The Gospel of Matthew, which is generally thought to be written in Palestine or Syria, elevated Peter to the leader of the church, with the keys to the kingdom of heaven.185 Matthew may have done this in opposition to the influence of Paul, but it reflects an importance Peter held among the congregations in the East. The Gospel of John, probably written in Ephesus, provides a postresurrection encounter between Peter and Jesus, in which Jesus tells Peter, “feed my sheep,” likely a reference to Peter’s pastoral work in Asia Minor.186 Likewise, the letters of Peter, even if pseudonymous, reflect his reputation. But that is all we know. Church traditions, probably beginning with the same letter of 1 Clement, though possibly hinted at in the Gospel of John, speak of the death of Peter also in Rome, and probably before or during the persecution of Nero in 64. Eusebius preserves


traditions attributed to earlier sources that Paul, a Roman citizen, was beheaded, and Peter was crucified head down, a tradition also attested in the apocryphal Acts of Peter (ca. 180–190), in which Peter has a vision of Christ and famously calls out, “Quo vadis, Lord?”.187

12.3.3 James the Just We know little about the congregation of Jerusalem during the reign of Nero, except that it thrived under the oversight of James, and the numbers of Nazarenes in Judaea grew into the thousands. James gained a solid reputation among Pharisees, and if Acts is accurate, some of the Nazarenes retained their fellowship with Pharisees. During these years, then, the congregation of Jerusalem seems to have protected its reputation for piety and had no serious disputes with other groups of Pharisees, either the House of Hillel or the House of Shammai. Indeed, they may well have been allies, disputing only minor points of Torah and the messiahship of Jesus. James likely had more difficulties with the Hellenists in the congregation, and followers of Paul, than with Pharisees. If the New Testament letter attributed to James comes from his hand, even if it has been edited later by disciples, we find a piety that not only flows seamlessly from the teachings of Jesus but also would enhance his reputation among Pharisees. Like Jesus, James summed up the law by Lev 19:18: “If you really fulfill the royal law, according to the scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’ you do well” (2:8). Said James: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” And righteousness depended on works, James insisted, not on faith alone (1:27; 2:24). Hegesippus, around 180, said James was called “the Just” (or the Righteous) in his own day, that he drank no wine or strong drink, ate no flesh, nor did he cut his hair or anoint himself with oil, but that he was so often in the temple kneeling in prayer for the people that his knees grew hard like a camel’s.188 Embellished legend it may be, but the legend enshrouds a man who, once he had taken up the leadership of the Nazarenes, determined never to darken the name of his elder brother and Lord. The death of James in 62 marked the final attack on the Nazarenes by a member of the high-priestly family of Ananus and suggests a specific animosity of this Sadducean ruling family toward Jesus and his followers, begun by the father Ananus and his son-in-law Caiaphas some 30 years before. The cryptic statement of Josephus does not tell us much about the nature of the conflict or the laws for which James and certain others were condemned of “having transgressed the law.”189 As a group, they were all probably members of the Jerusalem congregation. Their transgression was a judgment of the Sadducean high priest. But others in Jerusalem, whom Josephus describes as fair-minded and “strict in observance of the law,” probably Pharisees, were offended at this miscarriage of justice. The scenario appears to be similar to the inquest of Peter, in which Gamaliel the Elder defended the Nazarenes for their basic piety, which might or might not be the work of God. Likewise, according to Acts, Paul had his defenders among the Pharisees against

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the Sadducees over his belief in the resurrection. While it requires a small leap of imagination, it is possible that some of the defenders of James were Pharisees who would later form the first rabbinic congregation. Among them may have been Johanan b. Zakkai.

12.3.4 Persecution under Nero Luke does not mention the death of James. He speaks of the persecution the followers of Jesus received but limits it to the earliest years in Palestine and then the life of Paul. The Gospel of Mark, usually dated to the end of Nero’s reign, reflects the social history of the followers of Jesus as much as the historical life of Jesus. The Gospel was written for a purpose, to meet the needs of the believers, and would have been written differently if life were different. The conflicts of Jesus are models for the faithful to endure their own conflicts. But the prediction of suffering in Mark 13 is tailored to the experiences of the church. They were handed over to councils, some were beaten in synagogues, others handed over to governors and kings; families were broken up over adherence to the faith as brother betrayed brother and children their parents. Paul qualified for persecution by synagogues and Gentile rulers, but he cannot have been alone, and Mark may have in mind the brief persecution of Christians in Rome at the hands of Nero. “But the one who endures to the end will be saved.”190

Chapter 13

Jews and Christians without a Temple (70–117 c.e.) 13.1 Rome 13.1.1 Flavian Dynasty Flavius Vespasian (69–79) inaugurated the era of imperial Roman rule by the strongest general. As emperor, he reluctantly took on the aura of a deity. Suetonius tells us that while Vespasian was in Egypt, preparing to go to Rome, two men, one blind and other lame, came before him begging to be healed, since he was now a god. They had been told in a dream that if Vespasian but spit into the eyes of the blind man and touched the other, both would be healed. Vespasian hardly believed the act would succeed, but his friends prevailed on him, and he performed both actions. Suetonius assures us the two men were healed.191 Naturally, modern historians suspect a charade by the new emperor’s friends. In Rome, Vespasian the military man reduced the size of the Praetorian Guard and recalled many fugitives who had escaped the wrath of Nero, as well as the three failed emperors Galba, Otho, and Vitellius. More importantly, Vespasian made peace with the senate. His goal was to stabilize the tottering empire and then to adorn it. Stability came through a wide net of taxation and replenishing the ruling class by drawing many entrepreneurs around Italy to Rome. Besides the Temple of Peace, which he adorned with elegant paintings as well as the golden menorah from Jerusalem, he built his forum and began construction of the Colosseum over the foundations of Nero’s Golden House. On the frontiers, Vespasian pressed northward. He annexed more of Germany, and expanded Roman territory into Wales and the Scottish highlands. He enlarged the Roman army in the east from four legions to six and changed the political status of Judaea from a third-rank province under a governor of the equestrian order to an independent second-rank province of Rome governed by a member of the praetorian order, and with a standing legion in the province. The Tenth Legion, Fretensis, was stationed in the destroyed city of Jerusalem, but the governor resided in Caesarea with part of the legion. The legionnaires in Jerusalem produced clay brick roof tiles, stamped with the legion’s emblem and fired in kilns. Vespasian leased out large estates for his private income and gave the town of Emmaus to 800 veterans as a place to live.192 The former half-shekel temple tax became a poll tax on

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all Jews of the empire to fortify his coffers and refurbish the rival temple of Jupitor Capitolina. In the time of Domitian, this would be known as the fiscus Iudaicus, a two-drachma poll tax on every Jew in the empire. What had once been a source of Jewish unity became the symbol of Jewish humiliation. In 75, Agrippa II and his sister, the ever-beautiful Julia Berenice, visited Rome. Titus, no doubt already enamored of her from the campaign in Judaea, took Berenice openly as his mistress. She, a mature 47, was some 10 years older than the emperor’s son, but Titus now felt secure enough in power to flout the sensibilities of the Roman gentry with his Jewess. But when he came to the throne on June 23, 79, on the death of his father, Titus found the title of emperor was altogether different than emperor’s son. Rome was not ready for a Jewish empress. Under pressure from the populace, and probably the senate, Titus reluctantly sent Berenice away. Titus had barely ruled 3 months when Mount Vesuvius erupted and buried Pompeii, Herculaneum, Stabiae, and Torre Annunziata, among other communities, in 19 to 23 feet of lava and ashes. Pompeii, situated near the mouth of the Sarno River, 14 miles southeast of Naples, had already been severely damaged by an earthquake in 62, and its population of perhaps 20,000 was still recovering when Vesuvius erupted. Among the dead lay Pliny the Elder, author of the 37-volume Natural History. The city would remain entombed for 17 centuries, until archeologists began digging up the pristine first-century museum of death. Titus completed the Colosseum begun by his father and began additional construction in Rome. He had every intention of establishing a reign of moderation and seems to have made a good start, but he died prematurely on September 13, 81, at the age of forty-one, after a brief reign of 2 years and 2 months. His death was apparently natural, and the senate deified him as his brother Domitian ascended to the throne. Domitian (81–96), younger than Titus by 12 years, had been relegated to the honorable background of the imperial household, where he had formed his own views on how to govern the empire. In need of a military reputation of his own, he emerged from the shadow of Titus, conqueror of Jerusalem, by launching a campaign against the Chatti tribe of Germans. The Chatti, who had expanded their territory at the expense of the Cherusci and other tribes, offered little resistance, and Domitian secured new territory on the right bank of the Rhine. He took the title Germanicus, “Conqueror of the Germans,” for his triumph in Rome, but the minor victory earned him only scorn from the historians. Domitian fared poorly along the other great river, the Danube, where pressure continued to grow. Throughout his reign, the Dacians and Sarmatians threatened the northeastern boundary of the Roman Empire, omens of the barbarian invasions to come. The Sarmatians were tribes of Indo-European origin who for centuries had occupied the central plains of the middle Danube basin in modern Hungary. The Dacians were related tribes who occupied the lower basin of the Danube, much of modern Romania. The tribes united under one king, Decebalus, and in 85, the Dacians crossed the Danube to wreak havoc in the Roman province of Moesia. Domitian fought a series of battles, resulting in a stalemate that betrayed the weakened grasp of Rome on its Danube border. The province was split into Upper and Lower Moesia (Serbia, Bulgaria). The


emperor also recalled the general Agricola from his northward thrust into Scotland in order to strengthen a more defensive position. In this respect, Domitian followed the intentions of Augustus, who thought the empire had expanded in his day to its defensible limits. In 89, Saturninus, commander in Upper Germany, let two legions proclaim him emperor. The revolt had no support among the other legions and was swiftly put down, but it further weakened and embarrassed Domitian. He eventually settled affairs on the Danube by paying Decebalus to defend Rome’s province from the Sarmatians. From that point on, Domitian’s paranoia seems to have governed him. He grew progressively more like Nero and Caligula before him. He executed many senators, grumbling that the conditions of princes was most miserable, since no one would believe in conspiracy against him until the king was slain.193 His undisguised autocratic rule and disdain of the senatorial class soon brought on the condemnation of the philosophers, as it would of the historians in good time. Domitian erected statues of himself throughout Rome and deified his family, wife, and sisters, and himself. In his official correspondence to procurators, he began “Our lord and god thus commands.” Soon he permitted no one to address him in any other way.194 Once again Jews and Christians suffered under imperial megalomania. Domitian accused the Jews of not paying the required temple tax and renewed the effort to collect it in Rome. The humiliating tax apparently led some Jews to hide their identity, and Domitian attempted to apply the tax on anyone who appeared Jewish, which included a good many Gentile sympathizers. It also led to the denunciation of people known to be secret Jews, the charge of calumnia. Procurators in the provinces took license to abuse the Jews as they liked, and Suetonius recounts his eyewitness experience of seeing an old Jew disgraced when searched in public to determine if he was circumcised.195 According to Dio Cassius, in 95 Domitian executed the consul Flavius Clemens and his wife Flavia Domitilla on the charge of atheism, “a charge on which many others who drifted into Jewish ways were condemned.”196 Later, Eusebius took it for granted that Flavia Domitilla was a Christian, as indeed Roman Christians at this point could still be described as those who drifted toward Judaism, but he says she was banished, not slain. Clement, the leader of the Christians in Rome under Domitian, quietly wrote of the times of persecution they were suffering.197 Domitian’s fear of conspiracy eventually materialized, but not among the senators or Praetorian guard; rather, within his own house. He was assassinated in his bed chamber by a steward on September 18, 96, no doubt with the assistance of others, perhaps even the queen Domitia Longina. The senate moved quickly to nominate a new emperor, Marcus Cocceius Nerva, an old man of the Republican nobility. That settled, the senate, by the formal resolution of damnatio memoriae, damned the memory of Domitian: his statues were destroyed, his name was erased from every monument in Rome. In Christian literature, he would be immortalized as the “the beast and his image.”198 Nerva accepted the throne as an old man over 60, infirm, and childless. He provided a suitable transition, but nothing more. Nerva seems to have known this


and perhaps even regretted his elevation, for he was caught between those who suffered and those who prospered under Domitian; that is, between the senate and the people, and the soldiers who had revered Domitian for their increase in pay if for no other reason. The praetorians demanded the execution of the emperor’s assassins, and Nerva was forced to offer public thanks for subsequent deaths of the conspirators. This cost him prestige among the people, and beneath the growing clouds of discontent in October of 97, he ascended the Capitol and adopted as son, heir, co-ruler, and successor, Marcus Ulpius Traianus (Trajan), the governor of Upper Germany. The choice of successor was strictly pragmatic, for Trajan was the strongest general in the empire, the least likely to be challenged. That done, Nerva died of old age within four months. He was remembered for building granaries in Rome, for attempting to alleviate the plight of the poor, and initiating the alimenta, a welfare program to provide funds for the poorest children in rural Italy. He reversed Domitian’s pressure to tax anyone suspect of being Jewish and returned to the policy of taxing only professing Jews.

13.1.2 Trajan and the Diaspora Revolt Trajan (98–117) assumed the throne in late January of 98, acclaimed by the senate and the legions. He spent a year inspecting the troops along the Rhine and the troubled Danube frontier before coming to Rome. In keeping with his restoration of military discipline, he ordered the execution of the praetorians who had forced Nerva to execute the conspirators against Domitian. Once in Rome, he paid his respects to the senate and attended to the affairs of state left him by Nerva, including implementation of the poor children’s fund. He also increased the numbers of poor eligible for the grain dole, gave generous cash gifts to the populace, relieved taxes here and there, and inaugurated new public building programs. The unsettled affairs along the Danube occupied Trajan during the first decade of his rule. He fought two difficult campaigns, 101–102, and again in 105–106. He defeated Decebalus, who committed suicide, and annexed the territory north of the Danube within the basin of the Carpathian Mountains, the center of Transylvania, creating the new province of Dacia. The war had required eleven legions, but the reward was considerable. Dacia held vast gold and salt mines, and the revenue of gold paid for Trajan’s new forum in Rome, as well as an extravagant one-hundredday celebration. On the eastern frontier of Palestine, Trajan created the Province of Arabia in 106 from the old Nabataean territory and made its capital at Bostra (Bosra). Over the next decade he constructed the Via Trajana to link the Gulf of Aqaba with the Euphrates tributaries, a part of Roman strategy to protect the southern trade route and constrain Parthia in the south, as his expansion into Armenia would do in the north. Soon, Christianity would establish itself in Arabia.199 With the northern frontier stable, Trajan turned his attention to the east and the ever-present Parthian menace. Around 110, King Osroes (Khusrau) of Parthia deposed the pro-Roman king of Armenia. Since the treaty of Rhandeia in 63, Rome


and Parthia had agreed that a Persian Arsacid would occupy the throne of Armenia, but as a vassal of Rome. Trajan could have negotiated a settlement, but he refused all diplomatic initiatives. In 113, he declared war and invaded Armenia. The Parthian candidate for kinship came and laid his crown at Trajan’s feet in the ritual of submission, expecting to receive it back as the new vassal king of Rome. Trajan, however, had greater prizes to claim. He refused the diadem, and after the king and his retinue departed, Trajan sent troops to murder them. Rome voiced its disapproval but applauded Trajan when he annexed Armenia. He marched on the city of Nisibis, which submitted without a struggle, and finding popular support in all directions, he organized Mesopotamia and annexed it as another Roman province. While he wintered in Antioch, ships were constructed by sections in Mesopotamia. In the early spring, the pieces were assembled on the Tigris, and Trajan invaded Adiabene. King Abgar VII did not resist, and as Parthia did not interfere, Trajan annexed Abgar’s kingdom of Osrhoene and renamed it the Roman province of Assyria. Trajan crossed back to the Euphrates and followed it down to the Parthian capital of Ctesiphon, which promptly fell, after King Osroes departed without a fight. Trajan captured the capital, for which Rome awarded him the title Parthicus. As a victory tour, he sailed down the Euphrates to the Persian Gulf, where Roman standards had never been set. Trajan had little time to enjoy his laurels. In distant Cyrene, west of Egypt, the so-called Diaspora Revolt (115–117) broke out. Although the tension between Jews and Greeks that had simmered since before the Alexandrian riots in 38 provided the fuel for the widespread conflagration in North Africa, the initial cause remains a mystery. Jews of Cyrene, led by one called Andreas or Lucuas, began attacking their Greek neighbors. The local authorities were unable to quell the violence, and riots turned into massacres. While the Jews of Cyrene ravaged the land on their march toward Egypt, they damaged the temples of Zeus, Apollo, Artemis, Isis, Hecate and the Dioscuri.200 Many Greeks fled to Alexandria where they took out their vengeance on the Jews, killing thousands. Soon the Jews of the Egyptian countryside joined in the chaotic violence. One source, the second-century historian Dio Cassius, describes gruesome atrocities inflicted by Jews on the Greeks: “They would eat the flesh of their victims, make belts for themselves of their entrails, anoint themselves with their blood and wear their skins for clothing; many they sawed in two, from the head downwards; others they gave to wild beasts, and still others they forced to fight as gladiators.”201 But this comes from the epitome of his eighty-book history compiled at the hands of the eleventh-century monk, Johanes Xiphilinus of Trapezus, and smacks of Byzantine anti-Jewish embellishment that relies on timeworn calumnies, including Jewish cannibalism, which Josephus had already dealt with in the first century. That Jews would die rather than eat pork, but kill to eat humans, which is equally unkosher, has never been satisfactorily explained. Atrocities, such as there were, came from both sides, as the earlier works of Philo and Josephus attest. Eusebius, our other historian who had good earlier sources, says nothing of this savagery.202 But Greeks were rightly terrified of the Jewish rampage. A certain Apollonius received a letter from his mother informing him of her prayers to the gods that the Jews “might not roast you.”203


The Jewish conflagration spread to Cyprus, led by one called Artemion. Trajan dispatched a top general, Macius Turbo, from his Dacian campaigns to Cyrene, but only with great difficulty and many battles was Turbo able to bring the land under control. Meanwhile, the Parthian Osroes began a counterattack in Adiabene, and Roman garrisons were in dire straits. At this point the Jews of Mesopotamia joined in a general uprising against Roman dominion. Trajan reacted swiftly. He dispatched his general Lucius Quietus, who recaptured northern Mesopotamia. The cities of Edessa, Nisibis, and Seleucia were taken, pillaged, and burned. Thousands of Jews perished under the Roman sword, led by Lusius Quietus. When the last of the rebellion was crushed, Trajan rewarded Quietus by making him governor of the province of Judaea. There is some hint in the rabbinic tradition that the rebellion broke out in Judaea as well, known as the “War of Qitos” led by two brothers, Pappus and Julianus. Qitos possibly refers to the general Quietus, but the comments are confused, and it is likely that the tradition reflects, if anything, the Jewish uprising in Mesopotamia, although small disturbances in Judaea may have occurred. Dio takes it for granted that Jews of Mesopotamia fought against Trajan, for which he sent Lucius Quietus to subdue them.204 The Jewish communities in Mesopotamia had offered little or no support to the Jews of Palestine during their war against Rome (66–70), but the next generation of eastern Jews had many reasons to join their western brethren in opposing Rome, not least of which was Roman interference with the trade routes through Mesopotamia, a change that would harm the strong Jewish merchant class along with all the major caravan cities. The ambiguous status of the land between the two powers gave Jews a decided advantage as middlemen, with their co-religionists spread out in both empires as far as Spain and India. Furthermore, after the destruction of Jerusalem, Jewish refugees who carried a new hatred of Rome with them will have swollen the ranks of Jewish Mesopotamia. Parthia, therefore, assumed an active interest in drawing support among Jews to their cause and fostering Jewish participation in the revolt against Trajan. The Jewish king of Adiabene, Abgar VII, son of Izates, was reluctant to support Trajan’s dominion, and, though offering obeisance, probably joined the revolt in 116, for which the city of Edessa was sacked and burned.205 The question whether Parthia encouraged Jews throughout the Roman Empire to rise up against Roman rule, promising them a better life if Parthia were to extend its rule westward, remains unanswerable. The cause and intensity of the revolt, in general terms, may be found in a persistent messianic hope that followed the destruction of the Jerusalem temple. Zealots who escaped the war in 66 had stirred up the Jews of Alexandria and brought on their slaughter under Tiberius Julius Alexander. That humiliation, coupled with the expectation that the destruction of the temple was but the beginning of the messianic woes, a necessary dark era before the messiah would come to destroy Rome and rebuild the temple, may have lingered into a new generation. It has been suggested that some Jews, under the charismatic leadership of men like AndreasLoukuas, believed that they could take control of Egypt and by stopping the grain flow bring Rome to its knees (as Rome well knew). This would offer a glint of sanity


to an otherwise suicidal folly. After a few victories, many Jews were again caught up in the expectation that this time, God would send his messiah and set up his kingdom. The initial spark of a great fire is soon lost in the conflagration. Whatever the cause, the result was akin to decapitation of the once thriving Jewish communities in Egypt. According to Dio, the number massacred reached 220,000 in Cyrene and 240,000 in Cyprus. Again, these numbers are hyperbolic, but probably more Jews were killed in the end than Greeks. Still, the slaughter of the Greeks on Cyprus was so severe that when the revolt was over, Jews were banished from the island. Dio says that even Jewish survivors of shipwreck who made it to the shores of Cyprus were immediately put to death. Appian of Alexandria, a Roman historian who had to flee the war, refers to the fact that “the Roman emperor Trajan was exterminating the Jewish nation in Egypt.”206 The repression of the revolt by Turbo persisted until the Jews of Egypt had nearly vanished. Many survivors fled or were assimilated into the Greco-Roman and Christian communities. It is estimated that a million Jews disappeared. The land had become a vast Jewish cemetery, with formerly Jewish homes destroyed, or vacant, or inhabited by Egyptians. Properties of condemned and deceased Jews went to the crown, later to be sold.207 The Diaspora war may well have forced many Jews of Africa to migrate further west, to Spain, or to Italy and northwards, where Jews were left unscathed. Some, however, remained in the outskirts of the cities, for they continue to appear in the records of Alexandria and across North Africa. A sufficient number of Jews apparently remained in Alexandria to send an embassy to Hadrian in 119 seeking to defend themselves against Greek charges over events during the revolt.208 But thereafter, we have no trace of the Jewish community for the next century. The Parthian king Osroes invaded the new Roman province of Assyria in the spring of 117, and Trajan found himself in difficult straits throughout Mesopotamia, with the turmoil ongoing in Egypt. By midsummer, while besieging the Mesopotamian city of Hatra (Al-Hadr, Iraq), Trajan fell ill. He abandoned the siege and died on his return to Italy. On his deathbed he was said to have adopted Hadrian (Aelius Hadrianus), a relative and native Spaniard from Italica serving as legate of Syria. The troops hailed Hadrian emperor, and the senate voted him the required powers.

13.2 Jews The history of the Jews in this generation is dominated by the aftermath of the war with Rome. Some Zealots fled to Alexandria and Cyrene, where they instigated Jewish riots, but none serious. Nevertheless, Vespasian closed the temple of Onias at Leontopolis in the Nile delta out of fear it might become the focus of another Jewish rebellion. The land of Judaea became the province of Judaea, with the civil headquarters at Caesarea, a private possession of the emperor, to be leased out for his advantage. Agrippa II remained a figurehead king. Josephus took up residence in Rome. A few Zealots and sicarii held out in Judaea. The Herodium fell quickly, and the fortress of Machaerus surrendered before a siege was mounted. Masada, under


the leadership of Eleazar ben Yair, a descendant of Judas the Galilean, held out for another 4 years. The task of its capture fell to Flavius Silva. Because of its height in the Judaea ridge above the Dead Sea, the siege was long and difficult, and the story is told in chilling detail by Josephus. A rampart was built by Jewish prisoners, and the battering ram eventually breached the wall. But the defenders had already built a second barrier of wood and earth that resisted the ram. It then became a battle of fire, and when Eleazar saw they could not prevent the assault, he addressed his men and put before them the cause of taking their own lives rather than submitting to Rome. Each soldier then slit the throats of his family, and they did the same for each other. When the Romans breached the barrier the next morning, probably in April of 74, they stood in awe at the self-sacrifice of a thousand dead Judaeans. The scars of the famous siege can still be seen. Josephus retired in Rome under the patronage of the Flavians and outlived them all. Josephus tells us that Domitian kept him in favor, guaranteeing his position and punishing his enemies, so that Domitian cannot be branded as anti-Jewish per se.209 Josephus wrote his first book, Jewish War, within a few years after the war. He wrote it in Aramaic, ostensibly for the many Jews in Palestine and the eastern provinces who suffered and had good cause to hate Rome. Josephus wanted them to know who was responsible for the war; namely, a small cadre of fanatics. He had it translated into Greek, no doubt with revisions, for the Greco-Roman audience, so that they too, might know that Jews were a pious and reasonable people. He then began his history of the Jews, Jewish Antiquities, which he published in 20 books after 15 to 20 years of labor. He also wrote his autobiography, Life, and a defense of Judaism, called Against Apion, in 2 books. Josephus was a gifted man, and although he had a view of his talents that matched or even exceeded them, he cannot have known how enduring his tomes would be. We now leave behind the lush fields of Philo and Josephus and enter the barren plain of Jewish history. Here we begin the process of attempting a history from the rabbinic sources, a task correctly called “a potentially thankless search for ‘historical kernels’ whose plausibility is measured against the limits of his or her own credulity.”210 We can only hope that tradition is verisimilar to the unrecoverable reality, and there is good reason to suppose it is. As the rabbis gain a greater voice, it should also be remembered that Jews who actively engaged Gentiles, both socially and intellectually, did not cease to exist upon the deaths of Philo and Josephus. They are always out there, and any reference to the Jews by Hellenes or Christians should bring them back to mind.

13.2.1 Judaea and Rabbinic Origins Judaea recovered slowly. Most Jews had not joined in the war, but all suffered its consequences. Many fled the land, adding their numbers to the Jewish Diaspora. The shift left a higher proportion of Gentiles in Palestine, now the Roman province of Judaea. The loss of the temple meant the loss of the economic vitality of Judaea. The presence of a Roman legion in Jerusalem, however, brought in needed currency


and provided a small economic base for local produce. The new Roman status of the province also spurred the building of roads, and many of the former temple stone masons likely found employment. Roman laws applied, Roman judges ruled. Jewish customs could be voluntarily followed, and no doubt many people did. Rome would support local custom, but it did not set up new local leaders who might have functioned under a client kingship. Rome viewed the Jewish religion in terms of its temple cult. The customs of the Jews and personal piety were part of the social mores of the land, and of no great concern.211 The destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, from the Roman point of view, was the destruction of Jewish religion. Many Jews saw the destruction in similar ways and withdrew from the Jewishness that bound them together while the temple stood. Scholars suppose the defection of Jews from their Judaism was considerable, as population estimates plummet. Among those who remained in Palestine, a cadre of Jews, probably under the guiding light of Johannan ben Zakkai, gathered in the town of Jamnia, which in Hebrew and rabbinic tradition is called Yavneh, a city near the coast, south of Joppa, with a harbor on the coast just to the north. Jamnia had been largely a Syrian Greek city since the time of the Maccabees, captured by Simon Maccabee, and held as a Jewish town until Pompey liberated it and restored control of the city to its Syrian inhabitants. It passed into the realm of Herod, who gave it to his sister Salome, and in her will she bequeathed it to Livia, wife of Augustus, where it passed into the hands of Tiberius and the subsequent Caesars as a personal property. Philo claims it held a majority of Jews, with Greeks in the minority, when the incident of the altar raised for the deification of Caligula, which the Jews tore down, resulted in the emperor’s command to set up the statue of himself in the temple courts.212 After the war, Jamnia became an autonomous city of the imperial province. The common assertion that the Pharisees were the only party to survive the war and became the rabbis is—to borrow a phrase from the rabbis—like a mountain hanging by a hair. The assumption is weighty, and the evidence is thin. Josephus has no more to say about the Pharisees than the Essenes and Sadducees in the first 30 years after the war. Individuals from all three parties undoubtedly survived, but it appears that the existence of the organized associations depended on the temple for their raison d’être. While the temple stood, it formed the focus of the Jewish religion, controlled by the priestly families and those who supported them, the Sadducees. The Pharisees and Essenes, loyal to God and the covenant, served as the loyal opposition to the priests who defined how Israel ought to walk. Without the temple, the opposition vanished, and without opposition, those who had banded together in common identity now disbanded.213 What survived of the Pharisees was their reputation. Josephus, after the war, claimed to have been a Pharisee (back when there were Pharisees). How many other Pharisees were alive after the war ended? We do not know, but like Josephus, they resumed their lives as best they could, no longer Pharisees in any meaningful sense, though perhaps basking in their former glory. Many may have emigrated, and being among the educated retainer class, they pursued a retainer life in the Diaspora. The shift from Pharisees to rabbis is equally tenuous. It is certain, however, that not all the surviving Pharisees became rabbis. We are told there were about 6000


Pharisees before the war. After the war, sages arise, of which slightly more than a dozen are named. Rabbinic tradition never identifies itself, or its pre-70 sages, as Pharisees, but there are names that link the two groups. Johanan b. Zakkai is said to have disputed with Sadducees, and in the disputes between Pharisees and Sadducees (or Boethians) preserved in rabbinic tradition, the rabbis usually side with the Pharisees. Josephus names Samaias and Pollion as leading Pharisees during the early reign of Herod the Great, and they are probably Shemiah and Abtalion of rabbinic tradition.214 The strongest link is the family of Rabban Gamaliel the Elder, his son Simeon b. Gamaliel, and his grandson Gamaliel II. Gamaliel the Elder is mentioned as a leading Pharisee by Luke and the Mishnah. Simeon b. Gamaliel, of a noble family and of the Pharisees, is mentioned by Josephus and acknowledged in the Mishnah. Simeon’s son, Gamaliel II, is not mentioned by Josephus or ever called a Pharisee in rabbinic tradition, but he retained some of his family’s prestige and wealth, for he was among the aristocracy of the land that survived. If his father was executed by the Romans, as a later rabbinic tradition claims, and other Pharisees were prominent in the war, then Gamaliel II and the sages had reason to disassociate themselves from the Pharisees.215 Nevertheless, it is probably safe to say, as the majority view does, that some Pharisees joined the movement of Johanan b. Zakkai and Gamaliel II. Insofar as Pharisees had been the leaders of the people in matters of Torah interpretation and ancient customs, the Pharisees and priests who survived the war will have remained to some extent leaders of the Judaeans who wished to abide by the laws of Moses and who revered the interpretations of the sages. Overall, the gathering at Yavneh appears to have been a new phenomenon, and those who gathered were never keen to claim the legacy of the Pharisees. A number of the early sages were priests. Among them was Hanina, the captain of the priests, whose saying preserved in the Mishnah echoed the words of Jeremiah to pray for the city in which you dwell in exile: “Pray for the peace of the ruling power; since but for the fear of it men should have swallowed up each other alive.”216

13.2.2 Johanan ben Zakkai and His Disciples Johanan b. Zakkai is often called the father of rabbinic Judaism, yet the historical evidence is weak. Josephus, who did know of John the Baptist, Jesus, and his brother James, does not seem to have known Johanan and his disciples, or if he knew, he did not find them worth mentioning. The life of Johanan b. Zakkai may simply be the foundation legend of a later generation. If so, he serves as the legendary figure for Jews who did exist and who cobbled together the movement of sages that would produce rabbinic Judaism. The alternative to Ben Zakkai’s dramatis persona is the silent admission that we cannot know how rabbinic Judaism began. Therefore, he belongs in rabbinic history, at least as sanctified memory, in which historical verisimilitude, if it can be attained, will have to suffice.217 Of Ben Zakkai’s five disciples of repute, only Eliezer ben Hyrcanus and Joshua ben Hananiah appear to have emerged from the war with their master. Eliezer came from a wealthy family and is reputed to have defied his father to become a disciple


of Ben Zakkai. For a number of years he studied in abject poverty, often going without food. When his father, Hyrcanus, came to Jerusalem to formally disinherit his son, Ben Zakkai arranged for Hyrcanus to attend his daily lecture and told Eliezer to deliver it in his stead. Hyrcanus recognized the vast learning of his son, and upon hearing the praise Ben Zakkai showered on Eliezer, he was reconciled to his son and left sufficient inheritance that Eliezer remained a wealthy man. Ben Zakkai recognized Eliezer’s gifted mind by the epithet “a plastered cistern that loses not a drop.”218 Joshua ben Hananiah was a Levite and had served among the temple singers. His mother is said to have taken him as an infant to the synagogue, where he was raised on the words of Torah, and perhaps for this cause did Ben Zakkai say of him, “Happy is she that bore him.”219 Through the misty glass of memory, Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Joshua were later reckoned the pillars of their generation and are often depicted in imposing opposition to each other, in which Joshua took the side of Hillel and Eliezer the side of Shammai. In reality, Ben Zakkai and his disciples, along with other sages, were as obscure and powerless among the Jewish people as had been Paul, Peter, and James. At some point in this postwar generation, the respectful manner of addressing an eminent person as Rabbi, “my master,” equivalent to “my lord” or “sir,” became the honorific title “Rab,” though not associated exclusively with teachers or experts in Torah. The sages also began to use the title, and through them, it gained the dominant sense of teacher. Under Ben Zakkai, the masters of Torah began to ordain their own disciples, who then took the title Rab or Rabbi.220 This was merely a development in the long tradition of a hierarchy within self-organized groups, such as the Qumran Covenanters, and was paralleled by the Christians, some of whom were also called Rabbi, as both Jesus and John the Baptist may have been. The task of leadership meant reviving certain temple rituals and holy days in the absence of the temple. Ben Zakkai issued a number of takanot, decrees, by which he enabled Jews to resume their customary worship, such as the sounding of the trumpets for the New Year, concerning witnesses for the new moon by which the holy days would be counted, and that priests should go barefoot upon the synagogue platform to pronounce the blessings, as they had done in the temple. In general, he set up a court of Yavneh to serve as the hub of the holy year. Beyond his decrees, his legal rulings followed the House of Hillel. But his most enduring legacy was his response to the loss of the temple. After the destruction of the temple, his disciple Joshua lamented, “Woe unto us, that this place, the place where the iniquities of Israel were atoned for, is laid waste.” Johanan comforted him: “Be not grieved. We have another atonement as effective as this. And what is it? It is acts of steadfast love, as it is said, ‘I desire steadfast love, not sacrifice.’ ”221 Israel needed compassion from God, and perhaps by showing compassion to their neighbors, they might receive it from their God. In one act of Torah interpretation, Ben Zakkai replaced the entire temple ritual of sacrificial atonement with the universal command to practice hesed, mercy, compassion, steadfast love. This was hardly a novel interpretation concerning temple ritual, but never had it meant so much. Ben Zakkai indulged in allegorical interpretation of Scripture, so popular with Philo. To the verse of Eccl 9:8, “Let your garments be always white; let not oil be


lacking on your head,” he replied, “If the text speaks of white garments, how many of these have the peoples of the world; and if it speaks of good oil, how much of it do the peoples of the world possess! Behold, it speaks only of precepts, good deeds, and [the study of] Torah.”222 He is also reputed to have occupied himself in the esoteric study of Works of the Chariot of Elijah with his disciple Eleazar ben Arak, and to have passed it on to Rabbi Akiba. Rabban Johanan b. Zakkai’s leadership did not last long, for he was already a very old man when the temple was destroyed, though probably not the honorary 120 years later assigned to him.223 When Johanan was near death, his disciples came and found him in tears. They asked why he wept. He replied: If I were being taken today before a human king who is here today and tomorrow in the grave, whose anger if he is angry with me does not last for ever, who if he imprisons me does not imprison me for ever and who if he puts me to death does not put me to everlasting death, and whom I can persuade with words and bribe with money, even so I would weep. Now that I am being taken before the supreme King of Kings, the Holy One, blessed be He, who lives and endures for ever and ever, whose anger, if He is angry with me, is an everlasting anger, who if He imprisons me imprisons me for ever, who if He puts me to death puts me to death for ever, and whom I cannot persuade with words or bribe with money—nay more, when there are two ways before me, one leading to Paradise and the other to Gehinnom, and I do not know by which I shall be taken, shall I not weep?

His disciples asked for his blessing. He said, “May it be God’s will that you fear heaven as much as you fear flesh and blood.” When they asked if that was all, he replied, “If only. . . [you can achieve that].”224

13.2.3 Gamaliel II and Yavneh During the 80s, Gamaliel II, grandson of the prominent Gamaliel the Elder, emerged to take the helm.225 He was both guided by, and opposed by, the disciples of Ben Zakkai, Eliezer b. Hyrcanus and Joshua b. Hananiah. The task at hand was to gain authority for themselves in the eyes of other Jewish leaders and to replace destroyed Jerusalem with Yavneh. The holy site of the temple mount was probably still controlled by priests and whatever Sadducean aristocracy remained. The shadow of the temple precinct was not a conducive place for Gamaliel and his sages to establish their authority. One early dispute among the sages concerned which places could substitute for Jerusalem and reenact temple rituals: some said only at Yavneh, others, any place a Jewish court assembled.226 This discussion, as with virtually all discussions traced to the sages who assembled at Yavneh, was theoretical and affected only themselves and anyone who chose to follow them. There is not a shred of external evidence to corroborate rabbinic decisions at Yavneh during the life of Gamaliel II. Rabbinic tradition says the sages met in the “vineyard of Yavneh.”227 The Palestinian Talmud explains the “vineyard” to mean the sages sat in rows similar to vines in a vineyard, but originally they may have met in a sheltered site of someone’s


vineyard, or it may be a metaphor. Until the current generation of scholarship, this council was usually interpreted to mean that the rabbis reconstituted the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of the Jews. Such early grandeur is no longer tenable. It appears that the notion of “the Great Sanhedrin” (Greek synedrion) described in the Mishnah tractate Sanhedrin is the ideal of a permanent court or legislative body that never existed. The synedrion mentioned in the Gospels and Josephus was never more than a council assembled to advise a leader or render judgment as a court.228 There is no sound evidence for a permanent Sanhedrin during the Talmudic era. The Mishnah and a Talmudic tradition in fact state that the Sanhedrin (whatever it may have referred to) ceased with the destruction of the temple.229 On the other hand, Gamaliel no doubt formed a council, and a court, for deciding issues that arose among the sages. Such a council of learned men will have carried some weight among the population in that a few members of the previous Council of Elders that attended to the ruling priests before the war likely retained their influence. At some point in Gamaliel’s leadership, perhaps as early as 92, a tradition says he traveled to Syria to obtain “authority.”230 This brief comment was once thought to be Roman recognition of the patriarchate, the formal installation of the leader of the Jews of Palestine by Rome. That now appears unlikely. The authority Gamaliel sought was perhaps to set the calendar for Jewish holy days, such that his decision may have carried some clout with Jews who rejected him, as many would continue to do.231 The power of the calendar was no small thing in Jewish life because all holy days were on set days of the lunar months, requiring integration of the moon cycle with the solar year and the stars. The authority had lain with the temple high priest, but after the destruction, the absence of a clear authority was merely part of the chaos of Jewish life. Surviving priests expected to retain the authority, while surviving Essenes may have sought to establish a solar calendar. Who would declare the new moon or the necessary intercalation of the thirteenth month? When would Pesach or Yom Kippur be held? The sages thought they should decide, and Gamaliel would represent them. At this stage there is no indication what authority Yavneh may have carried with the Diaspora Jews who had customarily depended on the temple pronouncements, but Gamaliel’s journey to Syria may have been the first attempt to wield his influence in the Diaspora as well. During the reign of Trajan, the sages of Yavneh probably made some advances in persuading other Jews in Judaea to follow their leadership. The few legal cases that came before the rabbis were minor matters of ritual law, the sorts of questions that would concern only Jews such as former Pharisees.232 Gamaliel II is remembered as an effective and forceful leader, and there is no reason to doubt the tradition. He settled in Lydda (Lud), where he maintained a school.233 He also traveled around Palestine, exerting whatever influence the people granted him. One result of the destruction of the temple was the sudden abundance of small cattle, sheep, and goats, which formerly would have been purchased for sacrifices. Now they ravaged the hillsides and destroyed the plots of farmers. The sages came to their aid: “They may not rear small cattle in the Land of Israel, but they may rear them in Syria or in the wilderness that are in the Land of Israel.”234 The ruling, however, was an unenforceable suggestion. Even some rabbis are known to have ignored it.


Purity laws invariably distinguished the sages from the amme ha-aretz, the common people of the land, a distinction that may have enhanced their reputation and helped them appropriate the authority of the former priesthood. They also discussed theoretical questions on how the land of Israel ought to function. But the rabbinic movement was still in its infancy. A majority decision did not always come easily. What little can be gleaned from the rabbinic memory is gilded in legend, but it is clear that Gamaliel exercised his leadership forcefully, even on the powerful disciples of Ben Zakkai, Eliezer b. Hyrcanus and Joshua b. Hananiah. A famous legend set in the first quarter of the second century reveals an important development in the struggle for a unified rabbinic voice, the essence of leadership. The key figures were the two disciples of Ben Zakkai, Eliezer and Joshua. The rabbis were in a school house debating whether a certain type of outdoor oven was susceptible to uncleanness; that is, for example, if a dead lizard fell on the oven and rendered it unclean, would the bread within also become unclean and have to be tossed out? Rabbi Eliezer declared the oven clean, but the rest of the sages, led by Rabbi Joshua, declared it unclean. On that day R. Eliezer brought forward every imaginable legal argument, but the Sages rejected them. Said R. Eliezer in exasperation: “If the law agrees with me, let this carobtree prove it!” Thereupon the carobtree was torn from its place and cast a hundred cubits—others say, four hundred cubits. The Sages cried, “No proof can be brought from a carobtree.” Again he said to them: “If the law agrees with me, let the stream prove it!” Whereupon the stream flowed backwards. The Sages cried, “No proof can be brought from a stream of water.” Again he urged: “If the law agrees with me, let the walls of the schoolhouse prove it.” And the walls inclined to fall. But R. Joshua rebuked them, saying: “When scholars are engaged in a legal dispute, what business is it of yours?” Hence, in honor of R. Joshua, the walls did not fall, nor did they stand upright, in honor of R. Eliezer; and to this day they are standing thus inclined. Again R. Eliezer said to them: “If the law agrees with me, let Heaven prove it!” Whereupon a Heavenly Voice cried out: “Why do ye dispute with R. Eliezer, seeing that in all matters the law agrees with him!” But R. Joshua arose and exclaimed: “It is not in heaven.”

Since the Torah had already been given at Mount Sinai, the narrative explains, sages should pay no attention to a heavenly voice, because Torah had already declared, “After the majority must one incline.” The legend continues briefly, invoking an appearance of the prophet Elijah, who often comes down from heaven to converse with the rabbis. “R. Nathan met Elijah and asked him: What did the Holy One, Blessed be He, do in that hour when R. Joshua defied the Heavenly Voice? Said Elijah, He laughed with joy, and he said, ‘My sons have defeated Me, My sons have defeated Me.’ ”235 Rabbi Joshua quoted Deut 30:12, where God says to the Israelites that his laws are “not in heaven” that they should be hard to understand, but in their mouths and hearts, easy to follow. Rabbi Jeremiah explains that even at Sinai, God had given his people the mandate to make decisions by majority vote, referring to Exod 23:2. God laughed because the sages had used his own words to “defeat” him; for he had been training his people to think for themselves, to participate in the covenant relationship, guided by a consensus of the sages. The point is that despite the


wrong decision of the majority, the Holy One, Blessed be He, endorsed it. The story is notable as a refreshing admission of the reality of religious establishment. Appeals to the voice of God or the direction of the Holy Spirit, both examples of the ancient prophetic office, have been replaced by the interpretation of holy Writ as determined by a majority of scholars. This decision by council and majority vote was, in fact, what Jews had long done. Christians were already doing it as well. Gamaliel and his council excommunicated Eliezer when he would not give in to the majority vote, and tradition says he died in a state of humiliation. Gamaliel sought to establish uniform practice in the calendar and prayer. The calendar remained a vexed calculation, and Joshua famously challenged Gamaliel and the court when he rejected the new moon decision of Gamaliel. When the Day of Atonement came, according to the calculation of Joshua, Gamaliel ordered Joshua to appear at his court, staff and purse in hand, which constituted a transgression of the sabbath law on the holiest day of the year. Joshua appeared as commanded, thereby acknowledging the authority of Gamaliel.236 In a second tradition, Gamaliel ruled that saying the Amidah prayer thrice daily, morning, afternoon, and evening, was compulsory. Joshua agreed on the morning and afternoon prayers but held that the evening prayer was optional. Gamaliel not only rejected the opinion of Joshua but also insulted him publically in the process. At this, we are told, the sages rose up and deposed Gamaliel. They installed Eleazar b. Azariah in his place. Eleazar, though young, is said to have been able to trace his lineage ten generations back to Ezra and was a man of considerable wealth, therefore able to bring the required distinction to the position of leadership. In due course, Gamaliel apologized, and Joshua, along with Akiba, convinced the sages to reinstate Gamaliel. Eleazar b. Azariah was made head of the court (Av Bet Din) and shared the preaching honors one sabbath a month.237 The little revolt against the overbearing Gamaliel, though reported much later in rabbinic tradition, shows the keen awareness of the early sages that, besides the required ancestral lineage and one learned in Torah, a leader must be sufficiently wealthy to rub shoulders among the elite class and serve Caesar if called upon. Gamaliel certainly knew that power lay in the backing of Rome, so he and his descendants would have to demonstrate loyalty to Rome, just as the reigning high priests had done in the past. This would lead to an overbearing patriarchate with royal trappings, and conflicts with the rabbis, but there was no way around leadership. Rome did not deal with riffraff. The authority of Gamaliel may have been enhanced when Agrippa II died around 93. It may have been at the death of Agrippa that, if historical, Gamaliel, Eleazar ben Azariah, and Akiba made a voyage to Rome.238 Because Rome required Jewish leaders in Palestine, some of the influential Jews in Rome may have advised Roman officials to begin dealings with Gamaliel as a leading figure in Palestine. The steps to the rise of the patriarchate, however small, must have begun in this generation. In due course, the sages of Yavneh and their heirs through the third century will be remembered as the Tannaim (singular Tanna), the “teachers” of oral Torah. Another significant event has traditionally been assigned to the sages at Yavneh in this generation. At the Council of Yavneh, it was believed that the sages gathered to determine the final canon of the Hebrew Scriptures.

Jews and Christians without a Temple 265 Rabbi Simeon ben Azzai said: I have heard a tradition from the seventy-two elders on the day when they made R. Eleazar b. Azariah head of the college of Sages, that the Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes both render the hands unclean.239

Akiba objected that the sacred status of the Song of Songs was never questioned in Israel and only the book of Ecclesiastes was disputed, but another sage affirmed the memory of Simeon b. Azzai. The Mishnah passage further tells of earlier debates between the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel concerning the status of Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes, implying that the ongoing controversy was finally settled at Yavneh. Although Torah and the Prophets were perhaps universally accepted as Scripture among the Jews, the books later known as the Writings were still unsettled, and the sages finalized a closed canon of such works. It is now generally conceded that the so-called council of Yavneh cannot be sustained on so thin a tradition.240 The very word “council” is an anachronism colored by the history of Christianity. The canonical process would continue into the second century, spurred on no doubt by Christians who embraced not only the Torah and Prophets but also most of the Writings and many books now classified as the Apocrypha. The rabbis may have settled the acceptance of the scriptural authority of Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes among themselves, but whatever discussion they held at Yavneh, it made no official list of sacred writings for the vast majority of the Jews at that time. Josephus, who does mention 22 sacred books of Scripture in three groups of Moses, Prophets, and poetry, knows nothing of the Yavnean sages or a council.241 Around the same time, at the turn of the century, the author of 4 Ezra mentions 94 sacred books that the scribe Ezra received by divine revelation and were written down over 40 days. The Most High then instructed Ezra: “Make public the twenty-four books that you wrote first and let the worthy and the unworthy read them; but keep the seventy that were written last, in order to give them to the wise among your people.” For the author, Scripture was a group of 24 books that were clearly well known.242 We may assume the rabbis accepted the books that were widely held in reverence by Jews. A rabbinic canonical list shows up in the Talmud some four centuries later, though it comes in a baraita and may represent a view held in the second or third century.243

13.2.4 Jews of Babylonia Around this time Hananiah (Hanina), a young rabbi of some repute and the nephew of Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah, went to Babylonia, but only because Joshua urged him to depart Palestine.244 According to a tradition that must be judged early, though not therefore true, Hananiah fell in with some Jewish believers (i.e., heretics) in Capernaum. They induced him (by magic, says the text) to ride a donkey on the sabbath, perhaps in imitation of “the wicked one” (Jesus). When word of this apostasy reached Joshua, he came and anointed Hananiah with oil, breaking the spell, and told his nephew that he could not remain in Palestine. Hananiah followed his uncle’s advice and went to Babylonia, where he established a school in Nehar Pekod, west of Nehardea, which became a leading school in Babylonia, and thereby


the influence of the early sages was sown among Babylonian Jews.245 Whether Hananiah momentarily accepted the teachings of Jewish believers, or whether the story is a later fabrication to slander him when he confronted the sages in Palestine over the right to intercalate the year, we cannot say. But it survives as the reason he went to Babylonia.

13.3 Christians The name Christians (Christianoi) probably gained a fairly wide currency by the end of the first century, and although it remained a derogatory epithet, some followers of Jesus began to wear it with defiant pride. Christian communities continued to spread across the empire through merchants and travelers, as well as a few dedicated missionaries. The basic thrust of mission given in Acts pressed on, though the names changed, and the varieties of Christian community flourished.

13.3.1 Eastern Congregations In the eastern edge of the Roman Empire, Antioch in Syria was the hub of Christian expansion, led by its bishop, Ignatius, and perhaps a separate community of Jewish believers, under the guidance of the author of the Gospel of Matthew. The congregation at Ephesus was nearly as old as Antioch and is one of the seven churches addressed in the Revelation of John: Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea.246 Congregations were also to be found at other cities in western Asia Minor, Tralles, Magnesia on the Maeander, and at Hieropolis in Phrygia, a city in central Asia Minor rebuilt on a grand scale by Domitian after it was destroyed by an earthquake in 60. Christians sprang up along the shores of the Black Sea in Bithynia and Pontus. After the war, a small group of Jewish believers returned to Jerusalem or its environs, and they were possibly led by the aging Jude, brother of Jesus. In Egypt, the first Christians were undoubtedly Jewish and dwelt among the Jews of Alexandria. A telltale sign may come from the abbreviations of sacred names (nomina sacra) in the earliest Christian manuscripts, a scribal practice inherited from the Jews.247 The land of the Nile was a fertile land, however, and Christian seed would sprout in a variety of clandestine ways during the next generation. There were certainly congregations in Cyprus.

13.3.2 Clement of Rome and the West The congregation in Rome was led by an elder called Clement ( fl. 90–96). The faithful probably met in a network of small house groups, but perhaps they occasionally came together for baptisms and the Lord’s Supper at a single place similar to the dominant Jewish synagogues. Clement exercised his oversight not only over the Christians in Rome but also wrote a letter to the ever volatile congregation


of Corinth urging them to reinstate their own elders whom they had removed from leadership. In the absence of the apostles with their charisma and authority, the Christians of this generation struggled to establish recognized leadership that would sustain the common bond between them. The letter, which survives as 1 Clement, is a plea, not a decree, to fellow believers, and invokes only the authority of God, the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit. There is no hint of any primacy for the church of Rome, only the pastoral care of a stable congregation to an unstable one. The congregation in Rome included members of some social status, and as citizens of the imperial city, they assumed a natural leadership. Just as embassies from Rome settled disputes around the empire, so the congregation of Rome felt the same obligation. And the Christians in Corinth followed Clement’s advice, so that the natural leadership from Rome was strengthened.248

13.3.3 Persecution of Christians It is during the Flavian dynasty that the Gospels and most of the non-Pauline books of the New Testament were written, and some of Paul’s letters were being circulated. Although Paul and other missionaries had preached their gospels, drawing disciples to a faith in Christ, much effort was given to teaching the faithful, which began as catechisms of the faith, memorized and repeated by Christians. In due course, there were standard collections of the teachings of Jesus, and perhaps a basic narrative of the ministry of Jesus, which satisfied the needs of Christians to know the life of their Lord, to defend their belief that his ignoble crucifixion was the work of God. The oral and early written catechisms spread widely, providing a basic and somewhat standardized teaching, upon which the written documents built. Many of the writings refer to persecution, either directly as in Revelation and 1 Peter, or subtly as warnings in the Gospels. “Beware of men; for they will deliver you up to councils, and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear testimony before them and the Gentiles.”249 Conflicts in the synagogues where followers of Jesus sought to worship, and perhaps proselytize, were undoubtedly increasing, and such tension surely lies behind the prediction: “They will put you out of the synagogues; indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.”250 Both verses could apply to Paul, but the authors have other Christians in mind. The book of Revelation was also written because of times of trouble, probably at the end of the reign of Domitian. We have specific persecution of Christians during the reigns of Nero and Trajan, and it seems likely that the conflicts between Christians and Jews increased at this time, as well as pressure from the imperial government. According to Eusebius, who preserved testimony of Hegesippus, Domitian ordered the execution of all descendants of David, apparently over some danger of another Jewish uprising, or as Hegesippus states, the “coming of Christ [i.e. the Messiah].” At this time, he says, the grandsons of Judas (Jude), the brother of Jesus, were accused of being descendants of the line of David and brought before Domitian. During the inquest,


they admitted their heritage but said they were only poor farmers and showed their calloused hands in evidence. When asked about Christ and his kingdom, they explained that “it was neither of the world nor earthly, but heavenly and angelic, and it would be at the end of the world, when he would come in glory to judge the living and the dead and to reward every man according to his deeds.” Domitian probably did not take them seriously and is said to have dismissed them as simple folk, and thereafter he ended his persecution against the church. The fact, however, that his father Vespasian had relied on the Jewish oracle that foretold his rise to the throne, as well as the prediction of Josephus, supports the report that Domitian feared the messianic hopes of Christians and sought to confirm the Flavian fulfillment of Jewish prophecy.251 Domitian’s desire to be worshiped as a god provided the grounds for any who wished to denounce Christians. In the address to the seven churches, John refers to “the slander of those who call themselves Jews but are not, but are of the synagogue of Satan.”252 Those who call themselves Jews but are not have been understood as Gentiles enamored of Jewish practice or ethnic Jews to whom John denies the identity. The “synagogue of Satan” means those who oppose, or slander, the saints as adversaries, like Satan. Their slander may refer to denunciations to Roman officials of Christians who are hiding from the requirement of emperor worship. During the reign of Trajan, a conservative estimate on the number of Christians in the Roman Empire ranges between 7000 and 10,000.253 Bishops presided over the congregations in the major cities of Caesarea Maritima, Damascus, Antioch, Salamis on Cyprus, Alexandria, Ephesus, Sardis, Smyrna, Pergamum, Athens, Corinth, Thessalonika, and Rome, as well as many lesser cities, such as Jerusalem. Despite the Christian presence, there is little, if any, evidence they were involved in the Diaspora Revolt. The leading Christian known to history during the reign of Trajan is Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, also called Theophoros, “bearer of God.” We know little about him, except that he was probably of Syrian extraction, and he was familiar with Paul’s letters. Our knowledge of Christianity at this stage is enhanced by letters he wrote while traveling from Antioch to his martyrdom in Rome. He was able to rest at cities along the way and was received with great honor in Smyrna by its bishop, Polycarp, who would later collect the letters of Ignatius for sharing among the churches, just as Christians had done for Paul. In his letters, Ignatius dwelt on various concerns that were already apparent to Paul and others of the apostolic generation: the need for unity in the church, obedience to the leaders, various beliefs about Jesus now called heresy, and the attraction of Jewish customs, including sabbath rest. Like other Christian leaders, Ignatius urged Christians to obey their bishops in all things. The Eucharist was invalid unless given by the bishop. Another view of Jesus already apparent when the Gospel of John insisted that “the Word became flesh” was that Jesus only appeared to be human, a view called docetism, from the Greek dokēsis (“appearance”). Some could not accept that the Redeemer would take on that which would not be redeemed, namely, perishable flesh. Rather, God made Jesus appear in flesh, like angels, and Jesus appeared mortal and mildly ignorant of things, but that was for the benefit


of a humanity that could not handle the divine Man. Ignatius stresses those points under attack in his early formulation of later doctrine of Jesus Christ: who was from the race of David and from Mary, who was truly born, both ate and drank, was truly persecuted at the time of Pontius Pilate, was truly crucified and died, while those in heaven and on earth and under the earth looked on. He was also truly raised from the dead, his Father having raised him.254

Tradition has it that Ignatius was martyred in the Colosseum. Whether true or not, he went to his death like an athlete to the Olympic Games and was applauded by Christians along the way. Having been chosen by God for martyrdom, he pleads in his letter to the Roman Christians that they not interfere with his death but allow him the honor of dying for his Lord. He was aware, it appears, that the influential church in Rome probably could have arranged his release. “Grant me nothing more,” he writes, “than to be poured out as a libation to God while there is still an altar at hand.” Ignatius saw his death as the prefect imitation of the life of his Lord, the answer to the call “Follow me!” that all the apostles had taken up. The life of Jesus was still fresh in the minds of his followers. Ignatius has taken the name Christian upon himself, the first to do so as a badge of honor, “that I not only be called a Christian but also be found one.” Christianity is at its greatest, he said, “when it is hated by the world.”255 A few years later, Trajan sent his friend Pliny the Younger to restore the financially troubled province of Bithynia (northern Turkey along the Black Sea). During his administration, Pliny wrote letters to Trajan reporting on his administration and seeking advice. One such report written in 112 tells of the arrest, prosecution, and execution of Christians. This was an ongoing legal matter that he inherited, and he sought the emperor’s advice. He described the Christian offense: that it was their habit on a fixed day to assemble before daylight and recite by turns a form of words to Christ as a god; and that they bound themselves with an oath, not for any crime, but not to commit theft or robbery or adultery, not to break their word, and not to deny a deposit when demanded. After this was done, their custom was to depart, and to meet again to take food, but ordinary and harmless food; and even this (they said) they had given up doing after the issue of my edict, by which in accordance with your commands I had forbidden the existence of clubs.256

Despite the innocuous description, and the impression that he thought Christians were harmless enough, the legal precedent Pliny had inherited condemned Christians for identity alone. Therefore, he had followed a simplified trial procedure to determine guilt. Pliny asked each person if he or she was a Christian, warning them of the death penalty for such an admission. He asked them three times, and if they declared for Christ each time, “I am a Christian” (Christianus sum), he sent them off to execution. If they recanted, they were let go. The problem he faced, however, was that some might recant but then resume their Christian allegiance; therefore he devised a simple test. He erected statues of Trajan and lesser gods and required Christians to pour out a wine libation, or burn incense, to the statues. This ritual, called supplications, had become a popular inexpensive way to show devotion


to the gods, a god, or a hero, and it readily became an act of loyalty to the emperor. On the evidence available, Pliny’s use of this ritual as a test of religious allegiance marks its origin in the history of Rome. Trajan wrote back, confirming the policy of Pliny, to which he added: They are not to be sought out; but if they are accused and convicted, they must be punished—yet on this condition, that whoso denies himself to be a Christian, and makes the fact plain by his action, that is, by worshiping our gods, shall obtain pardon on his repentance, however suspicious his past conduct may be. Papers, however, which are presented unsigned ought not to be admitted in any charge, for they are a very bad example and unworthy of our time.257

While it is clear the simple identification of Christian was punishable by death, whether or not it was associated with crimes under Roman law, it is not clear why the Christian identity was criminal. The cause may have come from complaints of lost revenues in temples and shrines, as had formerly been the cause for riots in Ephesus, a problem that certainly brought Christianity to the concern of Pliny. Or it may have been the continued associations of rebellion in the Christian expectation of a conquering messiah. Trajan’s response seeks to maintain Roman justice, protect people against slander, and in no way suggests this policy was empire wide.

Chapter 14

Farewell Jerusalem: The Last Jewish War (117–138 c.e.) 14.1 Rome 14.1.1 Hadrian The two disasters of Hadrian’s reign, said Cornelius Fronto (ca. 95–166), orator and tutor to Marcus Aurelius, were the wars in Judaea and Britain. Since then, Hadrian is most remembered for his wall to keep the Scottish barbarians out of Roman Britain and for building the city of Aelia Capitolina on the ruins of Jerusalem. In general, he reverted to the defensive posture set up by Augustus Caesar and preferred the royal hobby of building cities to expanding territory by war. A philhellene from his youth, he was nicknamed Graeculus (“little Greek”) for his devotion to Greek studies, and he engaged in rhetoric and the arts, much as Nero had done. He rebuilt the Pantheon of Agrippa and constructed the elegant Athenaeum, in imitation of the Museum of Alexandria, where he paid scholars well and encouraged the pursuit of literature and the arts. One story tells of a debate between Hadrian and Favorinus of Gaul, in which the latter yielded the point, and when chided by the philosophic court, replied that the commander of thirty legions must be right.258 He grew a beard to hide a natural blemish, and beards came to fashion again in Rome, reversing the trend set by Alexander the Great for a clean-shaven face.259 In later years, his passion for Hellenism extended to a boy, Antinous, and often to the embarrassment of his Roman entourage. Hadrian (117–138) had never thought the military expansion of Trajan a good idea. Despite the desires of his generals for their own bit of glory, he abandoned Trajan’s annexations of Armenia, Mesopotamia, and Assyria. According to his biographer, Spartianius, a rebellion simmered in Palestine, but Hadrian seems to have restored order on his return.260 It was probably at this time that he received ambassadors from the Jewish and Greek communities of Alexandria who accused each other of continuing the conflict of the recent war.261 While Hadrian was still on the Danube, four of the generals who opposed his policy were executed without a trial; whether at Hadrian’s command or not is unknown. The senate was angry, and Hadrian hurried to Rome in June of 118, protesting his innocence. He spent 2 years in establishing his rapport with the senate, alleviating various financial burdens, and for public approval, hosting gladiatorial games.


By 120, Hadrian inaugurated a major reconstruction of cities in the East. The following year he went to Upper Germany and Raetia, where he constructed the first limes, a frontier barrier (when not following a river), in this case a timbered palisade symbolizing his defensive posture and desire for peace. He then crossed over into Britain and commissioned another limes in the form of a stone wall of 73 (80 Roman) miles between Wallsend-on-Tyne to Bowness-on-Solway, with an average height of 15 to 20 feet. Hadrian spent most of his reign traveling the empire. After wintering in Spain, he visited Ephesus and other eastern cities. During his two visits to the eastern provinces he founded or renovated numerous cities and continued the policy of urbanization, the attempt to organize districts around cities with local oversight, called colonies. The province of Judaea under the Flavians, and after the death of Agrippa II, had returned to the basic geographic kingdom of Herod the Great. Many cities were given autonomy so that the province of Judaea was conforming to the status of a “Confederation of Municipalities” like most provinces of the empire.262 Tax collection, formerly done by the companies of publicani, was now given to individual collectors (conductores) under municipal supervision. The autonomous cities were Jamnia, Azotus, Antipatris, Apollonia, Gabaa, Joppa, Tiberias, and Sepphoris. Hadrian expanded the municipal territory of Tiberias and of Sepphoris, which he renamed Diocaesarea (Divine Caesar), so they covered all of lower Galilee. The district of Samaria had already been renamed Flavia Neapolis. The city Neapolis (modern Nablus) was founded on ancient Shechem, and together with Sebaste, the two cities controlled all of Samaria. It is within the Roman reorganization of the province of Judaea that the final war against Rome is set. By 130, on the second visit to the East, Hadrian secured the peace with Parthia by returning to King Osroes I a daughter captured by Trajan in Ctesiphon. He also promised to restore the royal golden throne that had been removed to Antioch. Hadrian then visited Jerusalem. Either at this time, or previously, he outlined his plan to make the district (toparchy) of Judaea proper into the city district of a new polis, Aelia Capitolina, so named for the Hadrian’s family Aelius, and Jupiter Capitolinus. (Jericho and its lucrative balsam groves remained personal imperial property.) The emperor is supposed to have commissioned Aquila, a Jewish proselyte associated with Akiba, perhaps as a disciple, to oversee the rebuilding of the city.263 There are scattered statements among the later historians, as well as rabbinic tradition, that Hadrian agreed to rebuild the temple of the Jews.264 If this is a reliable tradition, it will have raised the hopes of Jews across the empire. The temple project, however, is likely baseless, and even according to the legend it was rescinded due to pressure from the Samaritans. Other sources suggest the Jews intended to rebuild it themselves, and it is possible an attempt was made while Jews controlled the area, but this too is improbable. It is conceivable that Trajan had made an offer to rebuild the temple, then changed his mind, perhaps due to the Jewish uprising. This would account for the unrest in Palestine at the start of Hadrian’s reign as well as the garbled rabbinic traditions, including the note of “Trajan Day” on the twelfth day of Adar, which was declared and later abolished.265 Most likely Hadrian intended a new temple to Zeus, and with that, the entire plan of Hadrian became anathema

Farewell Jerusalem: The Last Jewish War 273

to most Jews. In this context, the Christian Epistle of Barnabas cites Isa 49:17, “See, those who have destroyed this temple will themselves build it,” and says, “This is happening. For because of their war, it was destroyed by their enemies. And now the servants of the enemies will themselves rebuild it.”266 While this has been taken to mean the temple of the Jews, it probably means the temple to Zeus. As long as Hadrian was in the area the land remained calm, but when he went to Egypt in 132, the revolt broke out.

14.1.2 Bar Kokhba Revolt This generation endured the last great Jewish war. The cause for the revolt, says Dio, was the foundation of the new city of Aelia Capitolina, with its temple to Jupiter Capitolina, on the ruins of Jerusalem.267 Most histories, dictionaries, and encyclopedias customarily attribute Hadrian’s “ban on circumcision” among the Jews as the cause of the war. This verdict depends exclusively on a statement by Aelius (Pseudo) Spartianus, author of the “Life of Hadrian” in the late-fourth century Historia Augusta, where he states: “In their impetuosity the Jews also began a war, as they had been forbidden to mutilate their genitals.”268 Greek culture had long frowned on the practice of castration, and many likened Jewish circumcision to such barbaric mutilation of the genitalia. Domitian and Nerva had already banned castration, a practice of aspiring eunuch imperial ministers as well as singers, and Hadrian made it a capital offense. While it is possible that he extended this ban to Jewish circumcision as part of his neo-Hellenistic program, the Jews had always been exempt from the restrictions on castration, and Hadrian knew this. He also would have known the response of Jews to such a ban, and as a political pragmatist, it made no sense. Rabbinic sources admit that Hadrian issued many restrictions on Jews, including a ban on circumcision after the war, but it is doubtful he did so before the war, thereby making it a cause of the war.269 Recent scholarship argues persuasively that the rabbinic discussion speaks to Hadrian’s “repressive legislation following the Bar Kokhba Revolt and has no connection with the cause or causes of the revolt.”270 Even the postwar ban on circumcision may have been issued not by Hadrian but on a local level by Tineius Rufus, governor of Judaea during the revolt.271 The primary cause of the revolt, then, was the new city of Aelia Capitolina. Although the Jews of Judaea were accustomed to Hellenic temples, including those built by Hadrian in Sepphoris and Tiberias, Hadrian’s intention to adorn Jerusalem as a Hellenistic jewel brought on the dire shadows of Antiochus IV and the Maccabean revolt. In fact, Hadrian may well have held a longer range and darker view of the whole affair. The Diaspora Revolt was fresh in his memory, and as long as the temple site lay bare, Jews would look to rebuild. Besides the Jews of Persia, who were decidedly against Roman dominion, the Jews in all lands on the eastern frontier were of dubious loyalty, as Trajan had discovered. Hadrian may have intended the new city to seal the coffin on any Jewish hopes for the rebuilding of their temple. Whatever his intention, the result was war, and the preparations for war began in Judaea as soon as Hadrian’s plans were known.


The leader of this uprising was Simon Bar Kosiba, known from coins and letters issued during his rebellion. Two versions of a pun on this name were given him, one positive, the other negative: Bar Kokhba, “Son of the Star,” and Bar Koziba, “Son of the Lie.” History has retained the positive, Bar Kokhba, but it was the overall negative verdict of rabbinic tradition that called him “The Liar.” There is no evidence that Bar Kokhba ever claimed to be the Messiah; rather, he claimed to be the prince of Israel, Nasi Israel, as found on coins and letters. Like Jesus, however, others apparently saw him as a messiah, and according to rabbinic tradition, no less a figure than the Rabbi Akiba. When Akiba saw Bar Kosiba, the Palestinian Talmud tells us, he proclaimed, “This is King Messiah.” To which, his colleague Johanan ben Torta replied, “Akiba, grass will grow on your cheeks, and still the Son of David will not have come.” Later, Simeon ben Yohai, a disciple of Akiba, explained the scriptural justification: “Akiba my master used to explain A Star shall step forth from Jacob (Num 24:17) thus: Koz’ba shall step forth from Jacob.” Later still, the fourth-century Rabbi Johanan cited an earlier authority: “Rabbi would expound A Star shall step forth from Jacob thus: do not read “star” (kokhav) but “liar” (kozav).”272 The entire tradition, however, is fraught with textual difficulties, a mixture of Aramaic and Hebrew, and the otherwise nearly unknown rabbi, Johanan ben Torta, so that it is possible the initial acclamation of Bar Kokhba as Messiah goes back to an anonymous source at the time of the revolt, and Akiba himself never made the association.273 There is little doubt, however, that Bar Kosiba assumed the epithet Kokhba as “Son of a Star.” Support may come from an opponent, Aristo of Pella (ca. 140), perhaps a Jewish believer, who is reported to have said: The Command of the Jews at that time was a man named Bar Kokhba, which means a star. He was nothing but an assassin and a robber; nevertheless he used his name to impress his servile followers with the belief that he was in truth a luminary come down from heaven to shine upon their evil plight.274

It is certain that Simon Bar Kokhba had considerable support among the Jews of Judaea and that he was the dominant force during the war, able to lease statecontrolled land and mint coins. Nevertheless, and despite his heroic status in modern times, it is unlikely that he had strong support of the rabbis, who themselves as yet had no great influence on the people. In the rabbinic legends he soon became a false messiah. Christian statements assert he claimed to have come down from heaven or used to convince people he could breathe fire by holding a lit straw in his mouth. A late rabbinic tradition claims Bar Kokhba declared himself Messiah, and for that, he was tried, found wanting, and executed; all of which is a historical verdict, but not history.275 In any case, the Jewish memory of Bar Kokhba no doubt soured after his defeat, but the dispute between Akiba and Ben Torta reflects the divided views of the Jewish people at the time, just as they had been divided in the days of the Maccabees. The revolt began in a small way, like the revolt of Mattathias and his sons. And like the Maccabees, the revolt began in response to a defilement of Jerusalem and only became a bid for independence after early victories promised final triumph. The rebels, however many there were, engaged the Roman forces in raids


and skirmishes, a form of conflict that goes by the diminutive of the Spanish guerra, guerrilla war, since the Spanish resistance to Napoleon. The rebels hid in cave networks with elaborate passageways until they were able to seize and hold small fortifications or towns, and they proved a formidable foe for the two legions stationed in Judaea under Tineius Rufus. The legions were incapable of stopping Bar Kokhba, and two additional legions were brought in, plus auxiliaries, and the governor of Syria intervened as well. But even this was insufficient, and Hadrian summoned his best general from Britain, Julius Severus, to take command of the war. Though few details are recorded by historians, Dio says, “Jews throughout the Diaspora grew agitated, plotted secretly or joined the war openly, and many outside nations, too, were joining them [the Jews] through eagerness for gain.”276 We have little evidence that many non-Jews joined the revolt, though it is certainly possible some may have participated in the general anarchy of a peasant uprising against the rich Roman dominion. Samaritans joined in the rebellion, but whether with Bar Kokhba or independently is not clear. Nabataeans fought alongside Bar Kokhba’s forces in Judaea, and it appears the uprising spread to the Jewish communities neighboring Peraea and parts of Arabia. Jews in Syria and Mesopotamia had already sided with the Persians against Trajan, and many may have joined in the new insurrection. Ironically, there is no archaeological evidence the fighting extended to the Galilee, even though some cave networks were prepared in anticipation of the war. It is unlikely many, if any, Christians joined Bar Kokhba, because they awaited a different messiah. One reference to the Christians in Judaea, written not long after the war, claims that Bar Kokba, “the leader of the revolt of the Jews, gave orders that Christians alone should be led to cruel punishments, unless they would deny Jesus Christ and utter blasphemy.”277 There is nothing incredible about the report. The Ethiopic Apocalypse of Peter expands on the fig tree as a sign of the end times.278 It speaks of the false messiahs who will arise, lead away many Jews, and persecute Christians (2.7–13). This appears to be a reference to Bar Kokhba’s revolt, and the implied persecution of Christian Jews who did not follow him. Because the document does not describe the end of Bar Kokhba, it is dated just prior to 135. Jewish believers who refused to aid in the war effort, regardless of possible messianic overtones, would have been opponents of Bar Kokhba.279 Archaeologists have uncovered coins, letters from Bar Kokhba, phylacteries, and other items hidden in caves by the rebels, as well as bodies. The remains of the rebels declare the strong resurgence of nationalism. Bar Kokhba tried to revive Hebrew as the official language. Various coins were minted with inscriptions: “Year One of the Redemption of Israel” or “Year Two of the Liberation of Israel,” while some coins simply have “Jerusalem” or “For the Liberation of Jerusalem.” A few coins contain a star above a figure of the temple, which supports his acceptance of the epithet “Son of a Star.” One of the letters requests that wands and citrons be sent to the camp of the Jews, which were the palm fronds and etrogs (citron fruit) necessary for the Feast of Sukkot. But most the of the letters written by Bar Kokhba use coarse language and contain threats of punishment, evidence of his character and perhaps his desperation, especially toward the end.


The war dragged on for three and a half years, perhaps four, into 136. Bar Kokhba’s initial success permitted him to control Judaea, but when Severus adopted the same guerilla tactics and hunted them down by small groups of highly mobile soldiers, the legions gained the upper hand. Bar Kokhba may have held Jerusalem for a while, but not sufficiently to have built up defenses or to have begun work on the temple. His death came in the battle of Bethar. The probable site of Bethar/ Betar is an enclave 6 miles southwest of Jerusalem (modern Bittir), and its fall to the Romans marks the defeat of the Bar Kokhba forces. Rabbinic tradition recalls the defeat with apocalyptic imagery: the Romans “kept slaughtering until a horse sunk into blood up to his nose,” and “they found three hundred babies’ skulls on a single rock.”280 Dio Cassius, with significant numerical inflation, states: Fifty of their most important outposts and nine hundred and eighty-five of their most famous villages were razed to the ground. Five hundred and eighty thousand men were slain in the various raids and battles, and the number of those that perished by famine, disease and fire was past finding out. Thus nearly the whole of Judaea was made desolate, a result of which the people had had forewarning before the war. For the tomb of Solomon, which the Jews regard as an object of veneration, fell to pieces of itself and collapsed, and many wolves and hyenas rushed howling into their cities.281

In the end, the Roman legions also lost a great many soldiers. Hadrian was sufficiently shaken over the revolt that in his communiqué to the senate, he omitted the customary phrase affected by the emperors, “all is well with me and the legions.”282 According to Eusebius, Hadrian forbade Jews on pain of death from entering the district surrounding Jerusalem so they might not even see it from a distance.283 The ban on Jewish movement, however, could not have been easily enforced, and rabbinic tradition knows nothing about it. The city Colonia Aelia Capitolina was rebuilt on a small scale, approximately 75 to 125 acres, with an arched gate but no wall. A statue of Hadrian was placed in the central forum of the city and a temple of Venus (Aphrodite) nearby. According to Dio, Hadrian built a temple to Jupiter Capitolinus on the old temple mount, but no remains have been identified.284 Without the spiritual center of the Jewish temple, the remote and difficult location doomed Aelia Capitolina from the start, and for the next two centuries, it would languish, sustained only by memories of a glorious past. Hadrian upgraded the province to the consular rank and added a second legion stationed near Megiddo, with the Valley of Jezreel as the legion’s estate. The new province gradually came to be called Syria Palaestina, though Vespasian had already minted coins inscribed with Palaestina and meant to include Judaea. Palestine, a name derived from that of the ancient Philistines, was the Greek geographical designation for the land south of Syria, at least since Herodotus. It now became the political name as well.285 The rabbinic tradition on Hadrian’s infamous oppression of Jews and the practice of their faith is difficult to assess. He is accused of banning the study of Torah, at least in public, celebration of sabbath and festivals, and circumcision. The blood of the martyrs is laid at his feet, foremost among them Rabbi Akiba, and his name in rabbinic lore is followed by the curse “May his bones be crushed.” Curiously, the Diaspora Jewish Sibyl praises Hadrian, “a most excellent man.”286


14.2 Jews The fledgling leadership of the future rabbinic movement remains something of a mystery at this stage. Rabban Gamaliel II disappears from the record sometime before the Bar Kokhba revolt. He may have survived into the early years of Hadrian’s reign, or died as early as 115. After his death, the leadership of the rabbis is unknown. Some scholars have proposed that Rabbi Eleazar b. Azariah assumed leadership, others Rabbi Tarfon, but none is ever known as a patriarch. Another possibility, recently defended, is that an elder son, Rabbi Hanina b. Gamaliel, was being groomed to succeed his father, but that he too died, or was otherwise incapacitated shortly after his father and was never able to take the leadership. The second son, Simeon, was too young, and as yet unordained, but his presence was sufficient to sustain the establishment of the Gamalielan family in the absence of a leader until after the war.287

14.2.1 The Sages The sages of the Bar Kokhba revolt generation became legends not only for their halakhah but also for enduring the last great Jewish war of antiquity. They are among the third generation of Tannaim ( fl.120–140), but several of them had been involved from the first years at Yavneh, and most were born when the temple still stood. The most prominent for the development of oral Torah were Akiba b. Joseph, Tarfon, Ishmael b. Elisha, and Johanan b. Nuri. Also important were Judah b. Baba, Hananiah b. Teradion, and Jose the Galilean. Two men who were never ordained as rabbi yet received great honor were known as Ben Azzai and Ben Zoma. And a description of this generation is not complete without the enigmatic Elisha b. Abuya. Tradition tells us that Akiba (ca. 50–135) came from peasant stock, a true am-ha-aretz (uncouth man of the land), probably a despised shepherd. As he later admitted, he loathed the scholars. “I wished to have a scholar before me so I might beat him like an ass.”288 Of this, we are reasonably certain. And there is no doubt that he became the greatest rabbi of his generation. Thereafter, legend has shrouded his frame, so that the historical Akiba must be pried from his garments. The shepherd Akiba married a peasant woman named Rachel, daughter of Joshua.289 Akiba and Rachel were poor and slept on straw. Legend tells us that one night a beggar in the street (Elisha in disguise) asked Akiba to spare him some straw for his sick wife. Akiba explained the need to his wife, and she replied, “Go and become a scholar.” Thus Akiba went off to study under the disciples of Johanan b. Zakkai, Rabbi Eliezer, and Rabbi Joshua. After 12 years, he returned, and from the back of his house he heard a man taunting his wife as a widow abandoned in her poverty. Rachel replied, “Were Akiba to hear my desires, he would be absent another twelve years.” Thereupon he returned to study and came back to his wife only after 24 years, but he came as a revered scholar with 24,000 disciples.290 The legend encapsulates the dedication and hardship of Akiba, and no doubt of many a Tanna “in the days of the giants.” After studying under Joshua b. Hananiah and


Nahum of Gimzo, but primarily under Eliezer b. Hyrcanus, whom alone he called his rabbi, Akiba was ordained around 95 and began taking disciples himself. He probably taught in Lydda until the death of Eliezer and then set up his own school in Bene Berak, 5 miles east of Joppa.291 The greatest rabbis of the next generation came from his study house: Meir, Judah ben Ilai, Simeon ben Yohai, Jose ben Halafta, and Eleazar ben Shammua. Tradition recalls a number of Akiba’s journeys. He visited Rome around 96, and later he traveled to Nehardea in Babylonia. 292 He no doubt visited many other Jewish communities en route, and although the purpose of his travels later in life may have been to garner support for the revolt, the primary reason will have been his desire to spread his teachings among Jewish communities and keep the lines of communication open. Akiba is credited with developing a hermeneutic by which anything deemed necessary for applying Jewish law and custom to daily life could be derived from the written Torah. In a sense, Akiba resumed for nascent rabbinic Judaism what Philo had developed for Hellenistic Judaism; that is, a means to seek the deeper and relevant meaning from the ancient text. One sage declared, “Things which had not been revealed even to Moses were revealed to R. Akiba.”293 Where Philo had sought to extract moral principles from Torah, a spiritualization that would appeal to Greeks and the moral philosophy of his day, Akiba confronted the challenge of Christianity, which claimed the same sacred Scriptures for their own. The ingenuity of Akiba is preserved in a famous legend that tells of the day Moses ascended to heaven. There he found God affixing the coronets to the Hebrew letters of the alphabet. Moses asked why God did this and received the reply that one day a man, Akiba ben Joseph by name, will deduce heaps of laws from the coronets. Moses asked to see such a man and was ushered into a classroom where Akiba was teaching. Moses listened but grew dismayed when he failed to understand anything of the argument. A disciple, however, challenged the master, “How do you know this?” Akiba replied, “It is a law given unto Moses at Sinai,” Moses, we are told, was comforted by the admission of Akiba.294 Behind the magnificent exegetical stature of Akiba lies the second-century contest between Palestinian Judaism and the Hellenistic Judaism of the Diaspora, and perhaps more dangerous, Hellenistic Christianity. His interpretation of a Scripture now appropriated by Christians was designed to distinguish Jews from Christians. The goal of Akiba seems to have been to separate traditional Jewish practice and beliefs from the encroaching Hellenistic philosophical speculations, such as Gnostic theologies, and Christian practices and beliefs. Accordingly, Akiba said, “Tradition (masoret) is a fence around Torah.”295 At some point during this generation, Akiba also prevailed upon the Greek proselyte, Aquila, to translate the Hebrew books into Greek in order to replace the Septuagint. According to one tradition, Aquila had initially converted to Christianity while engaged in the rebuilding of Jerusalem as Aelia Capitolina, but because he refused to abandon his astrology, he was excommunicated and was taken in by the Jews. He mastered Hebrew and produced an accurate, if wooden, Greek translation from the Hebrew. Aquila took special care to avoid Greek words that had become Christianized. The most important change from the Septuagint was his choice of another word for


“anointed one” (christos), preferring the more literal ēleimmenos, which even the Septuagint used for Aaron and his sons as “anointed priests” (Num 3:3), and the verb was used in several places in the New Testament for anointing with oil or perfume.296 Aquila’s translation became the standard for Greek-speaking Jews, replacing the ancient Septuagint, which now became the Bible of the Christians. Only fragments of Aquila’s work remain, but the translation was valued by later Christian scholars capable of appreciating its faithfulness to the Hebrew, and they used it like a Hebrew-Greek dictionary. The brilliant mind of Akiba was not confined to deducing heaps and heaps of laws from the Scripture. Akiba dwelt on the perennial theological dilemmas of monotheism. He seems to have held a dialectic position on divine sovereignty and human freedom, for he declared: All is foreseen, yet freedom of choice [to do good or evil] is given; and the world is judged by grace (or mercy), yet all is according to the excess of works [that be good or evil].297

He also held an anthropology similar to that of Philo of Alexandria. The divine image in which humanity was created was “an image” of primordial man (Adam Kadmon), or as Philo put it, “the first heavenly man,” which was the divine idea of humankind, not the Adam and Eve of flesh. Humankind did not bear the image of God. Akiba may have had in mind some Christian views that Jesus was in the “form of God” or “the image of the invisible God.”298 Rabbi Tarfon was of priestly descent and had served in the temple before its destruction. He maintained a residence at Yavneh and at Lydda. He was remembered for the high honor he paid to his mother and his generosity to the poor. Although Tarfon had been an adherent of the House of Shammai, later he inclined toward leniency when possible, and occasionally opposed decisions of Bet Shammai. He was a strong opponent of the death penalty and would have abolished it had he been able. Tarfon was also an early opponent of Jewish believers. Concerning the books of the heretics, likely the Gospels, which though heretical contain the name of God, Tarfon reputedly said, “May I bury my sons, if such things come into my hands and I do not burn them, and even the references to the divine Name which are in them. And if someone was running after me, I should go into a temple of idolatry, but I should not go into their houses [of worship = churches]. For idolaters do not recognize the divinity in denying him, but these [Jewish believers] recognize the Divinity and deny him.”299 Rabbi Ishmael b. Elisha was of priestly descent from a family in Galilee, and perhaps the grandson of the high priest Ishmael ben Phiabi (served 59–61). During his youth he was captured by the Romans, but later Rabbi Joshua b. Hananiah ransomed him. He is said to have responded to friends and foes alike with the words “Your reward has been predicted” on the basis of Gen 27:29, “Cursed be everyone who curses you, and blessed be everyone who blesses you!” Rabbi Ishmael often opposed the scriptural interpretations of Akiba, preferring a literal reading when possible. To him is attributed the development of 13 principles of exegesis, which incorporate the 7 principles established by Hillel. He is also the supposed author of


the original collection of halakhic midrashim (scriptural commentary) on Exodus, the Mekilta, as well as much of the Sifre, midrashim on Numbers. He taught that at the resurrection, body and soul would be united.300 Johanan ben Nuri was later called a “bundle of halakhot,” or more prosaically, “a basket of fancy goods” for his abundance of legal decisions. He was poor and remembered for his frugality, such that he would gather the gleanings of the field at harvest time and support himself for a year. When Tarfon once proposed that only olive oil be used for the Sabbath lamp, Johanan rejected the idea, since not everyone could afford it, and in any case, Jews in the Diaspora did not have it available. Johanan claimed to have received from an old man of the family of Abtinas the secret formula for the incense burned in the temple. Senior to Akiba, he often conflicted with Akiba over matters of halakhah. And late in life, he confessed: “I call heaven and earth to witness for myself that often was Akiba punished through me because I used to complain against him before our Rabban Gamaliel, and all the more he showered love upon me, to make true what has been said: ‘Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee; reprove a wise man and he will love thee.’ ”301 Jose the Galilean is reckoned among the major sages of this generation. He was known by his place of origin, Galilee, because it was rare a scholar would come from there, and in fact, he suffered abuse because of it. Even the wife of one rabbi called him a “stupid Galilean.” Nevertheless, he distinguished himself in the school at Yavneh and was not afraid to take on Akiba. He once told Akiba that even if he were to argue the rest of the day, “I will not listen to you.” According to tradition, Akiba often submitted to the interpretations of Jose. Tarfon compared Akiba and Jose the Galilean with the beasts of Dan 8:4–7: Akiba was the “ram charging westward and northward and southward. All beasts were powerless to withstand it, and no one could rescue from its power; it did as it pleased and became strong,” while Jose the Galilean was the he-goat who “came from the west across the face of the whole earth . . . and there was no power in the ram to stand before him; but he cast him down to the ground, and trampled upon him; and there was none that could deliver the ram out of his hand.”302 Simeon ben Azzai, known simply as Ben Azzai, was one of the exalted students of the rabbis, who despite never being ordained, was so honored that some of his decisions were accepted. He chose to remain celibate, yet he taught that men should marry and reproduce children. When Eleazar b. Azariah accused him of not practicing what he preached, Ben Azzai said, “What shall I do? My soul thirsts after Torah. Let other people keep the world going.” One teaching of Ben Azzai from the book of Lamentations may have been directed against Christians. He expounded the first word, How (ekah = aleph, kaf, yod, heh), by the numerical value of the letters 1, 10, 20, 5; accordingly: Israel did not go into exile until they had repudiated the unity of God (aleph), the law of circumcision given in the twentieth (kaf) generation (Abraham) after Adam, the ten (yod) commandments, and the five (heh) books of Moses.303 Simeon Ben Zoma, known as Ben Zoma, also never was ordained, but he was honored for his erudite exegesis of Scripture: “With Ben Zoma died the last of the exegetes.” Among his most enduring expositions, Ben Zoma proved that the third


part of the Shema, the going forth from Egypt (Num 15:37–41), should be recited in the evening as well as the morning by expounding Deut 16:3: “that all the days of your life you may remember the day when you came out of the land of Egypt.” He explained, “The ‘days of your life’ would mean the days only; but ‘all the days of your life’ means the nights also.” Ben Zoma devoted himself to understanding the first chapter of Genesis, and he raised a commotion among the sages over the discrepancy between Gen 1:7 and Ps 33:6. According to the psalm, “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, and all their host by the breath of his mouth.” But in Genesis, “And God made the firmament” implies work, not simply speaking it into existence.304

14.2.2 Rabbinic Martyrs Judah b. Baba, a disciple of Akiba, is remembered for blessing because he defied a ban on rabbinic ordination (semikah). He gathered five disciples in a place between two villages, so that neither place would be punished, and there he ordained them. When they were detected, he urged the disciples to flee without him, while he remained to receive the Roman javelins. He was later called “the Hasid” (saint) and many legends were attached to his name, but there is no reason to doubt the nature of his death. The five disciples he gathered and ordained will be known as the restorers of the law in the next generation.305 Eliezer b. Hyrcanus also died before or during the revolt.306 Rabbi Joshua immediately lifted the ban upon him, and Akiba is said to have beat his chest bloody while following the funeral bier.307 Hananiah b. Teradion lived and taught disciples in the town of Siknin (Sogdana) in northern Galilee.308 He was known for his charity to the poor and his high reputation among the sages. When the public teaching of Torah was prohibited, he defied the ban and held his normal assemblies. A colleague, Jose b. Kisma, advised him to submit to the ban, arguing that God had ordained the supremacy of Roman rule, for despite all that Rome had done against Israel, it was still in power. Hananiah replied, “Heaven will show mercy.” Jose said in exasperation, “I am telling you the plain facts, and you say ‘Heaven will show mercy’! I will not be surprised if they burn both you and your scroll of law.” Soon after, Hananiah was arrested and sentenced to die by the flame. They wrapped him in his scroll of Torah and placed tufts of wool soaked in water around his chest to keep him alive as long as possible. When the flames began to consume him, his disciples called out, “Rabbi, what do you see?” He said, “I see the parchment burnt, but the letters are soaring on high [the body may perish, but the spirit is immortal]”. They urged Hananiah to open his mouth so the fire would kill him, but he would not, lest he, rather than God, take his life. The executioner then offered to remove the wool and increase the fire, if Hananiah would bring him into the world to come. Hananiah swore he would, so the executioner removed the wool and increased the fire. As soon as Hananiah expired, the executioner jumped into the flames and perished. A heavenly voice exclaimed: “Hananiah b. Teradion and the executioner have been assigned to the world to come.”309 The deaths of the sages, however they occurred, were sanctified in legends of martyrdom by the later generations.


Early in the Bar Kokhba revolt, or even before it, Akiba was arrested for violating a ban on teaching Torah, perhaps in the schools or other public places. In any case, Akiba was by then an old man, an octogenarian with few years left. He had lived his life and left his mark upon the heads of his disciples. When R. Akiba was taken out for execution, it was the hour for the recital of the Shema: Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. And while they combed his flesh with iron combs, he was accepting upon himself the kingship of heaven. His disciples said to him: Our teacher, even to this point [you acknowledge the sovereignty of God]? He said to them: All my days I have been troubled by this verse, with all thy soul, [which I interpret] ‘even if He takes thy soul’. I said: When shall I have the opportunity of fulfilling this? Now that I have the opportunity shall I not fulfil it? He prolonged the word ehad [one] until he expired while saying it. A bath kol [heavenly voice] went forth and proclaimed: Happy art thou, Akiba, that thy soul has departed with the word ehad!310

14.2.3 The Other One Elisha ben Abuya is the most enigmatic sage of the Mishnaic era, known generally in the Babylonian tradition as Aher, “the Other One.” According to tradition, both Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Joshua were present at his circumcision, for his father, Abuya, was a wealthy and prominent Jew of Jerusalem. Elisha studied both the Torah and Greek writings. In due course, he was ordained a rabbi and took on his own pupils, the most prominent of whom was the proselyte Meir. At some point, Elisha abandoned enough of his rabbinic faith that his colleagues were forced to abandon him, although Meir never did.311 Neither the cause nor the nature of his heresy is known with certainty, though a number of different legends sprouted up to explain it. The perennial problem of the justice of God is one cause that rings true to the modern as well as the ancient mind. It is said that he observed a man climb a tree and retrieve from a nest the eggs along with the mother bird, an act forbidden in Torah, and depart safely. Later, another man climbed a tree and after shooing the mother away, took only the eggs, as required by Torah. As the man descended, he was bitten by a snake and died. The Torah in question: “If you come on a bird’s nest, in any tree or on the ground, with fledglings or eggs, with the mother sitting on the fledglings or on the eggs, you shall not take the mother with the young. Let the mother go, taking only the young for yourself, in order that it may go well with you and you may live long.”312 Elisha asked, where is the going well, where is the long life, for this man? Then he went out and sinned. Another story claims he saw the tongue of a sage who had expounded Torah being chewed on by a dog after the sage had been executed by Rome during the Bar Kokhba revolt. Elisha reached the same conclusion: God does not reward righteousness. Another tradition from the Babylonian Talmud suggested that in a moment of mystical meditation Elisha saw the archangel Metatron seated beside God in the heavenly chambers and wondered, “Perhaps there are two divinities?” From this it is supposed he may have gone over to Gnosticism or to Christianity. Various older interpretations argued Elisha merely took up the Sadducee position that rejected


oral Torah and resurrection of the dead. In fact, all the stories of Elisha ben Abuya are late, and most attempt to deal with the threat to Rabbinic Judaism that one of their own, so well grounded in Torah, could defect. It is even argued that Elisha did not leave Judaism, but due to some calamity associated with him, he became an example of the arch-sinner.313 Elisha’s only voice lies in a lone halakhic ruling in the Babylonian Talmud, and the one saying preserved in the Mishnah: “He that learns as a child, to what is he like? To ink written on new paper. He that learns as an old man, to what is he like? To ink written on paper that has been blotted out.”314 There is nothing heretical in his saying; rather, Elisha merely adds his nuance to the central concern of the sages, the study of Torah. The base narrative for Elisha’s apostasy, if indeed he is to be viewed as an apostate, is an early Tannaitic tradition of four sages who entered Paradise. Four entered the garden: Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, the Other (“Aher”), and Akiba. One gazed and perished, one gazed and was smitten, one gazed and cut down sprouts, and one went up whole and came down whole. Ben Azzai gazed and perished. Concerning him Scripture says: Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints (Ps 116:15). Ben Zoma gazed and was smitten [with dementia]. Concerning him Scripture says: If you have found honey, eat only enough for you, lest you be sated with it and vomit it. Elisha gazed and cut down sprouts. Concerning him Scripture says: Let not your mouth lead you into sin (Eccl 5:5). R. Akiba went up whole and came down whole. Concerning him Scripture says: Draw me after you, let us make haste. The king has brought me into his chambers (Song of Songs 1:4).315

The “garden” is a Persian word (pardes) for a garden, or enclosure, that was appropriated by Jews for Paradise. What this represents in this case, however, is not clear. Some say it signified the study of theosophy, possibly Jewish Gnosticism, or more generally the dangers of ecstatic mysticism, or simply the right and wrong exposition of Scripture dealing with the divine realm, especially the creation narrative of Gen 1 and the divine throne-chariot of Ezekiel 1. One sage died in the process; another went insane. Elisha b. Abuya (Aher) destroyed part of the Garden. Only Akiba came away from the study safely. Whatever, if any, historical kernel lies behind the tradition, it reveals the struggle of sages to deal with the rampant philosophical speculations among the intellectuals of the early second century. Johanan ben Zakkai had studied the throne chariot, and Ben Zoma elsewhere is said to be “already on the outside” because of his musings on the distance between the upper firmament and the lower firmament, which he deduced was but a handbreadth. It was an age of speculation that gave birth to Gnosticism. The rabbis were not immune.

14.3 Christians Hadrian followed the policy of Trajan concerning the status of Christians. In response to a query by the Roman legate in the province of Asia (124–25),


Hadrian ruled against testimony of informers. “If then anyone accuses them, and shows that they are acting illegally, decide the point according to the nature of the offence, but by Hercules, if anyone brings the matter forward for the purpose of blackmail, investigate strenuously and be careful to inflict penalties adequate to the crime [of slander?].”316 Eusebius says of this generation, “Like brilliant lamps the churches were now shining throughout the world, and faith in our Savior and Lord Jesus Christ was flourishing among all mankind, when the devil who hates what is good, as the enemy of truth, ever most hostile to man’s salvation, turned all his devices against the church.”317 Apart from his verdict, however, information on Christians remains scant. We are told that in Jerusalem, there had been fifteen bishops of the church up until the war, and all of them were “Hebrew” by origin, and indeed, the whole congregation of Jerusalem were Jews. The Letter of James addressed “To the twelve tribes in the Dispersion” undoubtedly reflects their principal statement of faith, whether written by the first leader, James the brother of Jesus, or by a later disciple. During Hadrian’s reign the earliest Christian apologists appeared. A certain Quadratus, thought to be the bishop of Athens, wrote a treatise defending the faith to Hadrian around 124. In the preserved fragment, he made the remarkable claim that some of the people Jesus had cured and raised from the dead were alive to his day.318 The context of the quote was probably Gentile accusations that Jesus was just another charlatan magician. Another apologist was Aristides, a Christian philosopher of Athens. Like Philo, he uses Middle Platonism to argue for the one true God against traditional mythologies. He heaps scorn upon the Egyptians, who are more base and stupid than every people that is on the earth, for they worship animals.319 In his praise of monotheism, he lauds the Jews who gave to the world true worship and the best way of the virtuous life, including sexual morality. He finds the only fault of the Jews is that they have failed to accept Christ. The most important, if little known, church father of this generation is Papias (ca. 60–130), bishop of Hieropolis in Asia Minor. Papias was a younger companion of Polycarp and knew many disciples of the apostles; that is, he was a third generation witness to the origins of Christianity. As he said, “I inquired into the words of the presbyters, what Andrew or Peter or Philip or Thomas or James or John or Matthew, or any other of the Lord’s disciples, had said. . . .” He preferred the oral witness of living tradition to written documents. Nevertheless, he wrote five treatises under the title “Interpretation of the Oracles of the Lord,” which was known to Eusebius but has not survived. He is most famous for his explanation on the origins of the Gospels of Mark and Matthew. He claimed to have gotten his information on Mark from John the Presbyter, presumed author of the book of Revelation. Papias says: Mark became Peter’s interpreter and wrote accurately all that he remembered, not, indeed, in order, of the things said or done by the Lord. For he had not heard the Lord, nor had he followed him, but later on, as I said, followed Peter, who used to give teaching as necessity demanded but not making, as it were, an arrangement of the Lord’s oracles. . . . Matthew collected the oracles in the Hebrew language, and each interpreted them as best he could.320


14.4 The Early Syncretistic Milieu Jews, Christians, or Gentiles attracted to monotheism, had other options beyond the established faiths in the highly syncretistic milieu of Syria-Palestine. In this generation, a certain Menander, reputedly a Samaritan disciple of Simon Magnus of Samaria (Acts 8:9–24), came to Antioch preaching the doctrine of the highest God, who though unknown had sent a savior, and this salvation was available through a revelation known to him. Another man, known as Satornilus or Saturninus, followed Menander with a similar message: a basic Gnostic doctrine that posits an unknown God who created a hierarchy of divine beings, one of whom was the god of the Jews. These beings, particularly the god of the Jews, in turn created humans, although humans were initially like worms wriggling on the ground until infused by a divine spark. The human worm then stood on his feet. The unknown God of all then sent Jesus to destroy the creator god of the Jews and to redeem those humans who contained the divine spark. Out of the same circle of disciples of Simon Magus, another named Cerdo taught in Rome, and a Basilides taught in Alexandria. Another charismatic preacher, Elkesai (Elxai), and his followers emerged around this time in the Transjordan and reached as far as Antioch. The Elkesaites practiced circumcision and baptism (though only fully dressed) and held certain Gnostic beliefs. They kept the sabbath, but more for astrological reasons than obedience to Torah. This hodgepodge would qualify them as heretics among Jews as well as Christians.

Synthesis of Part Three

Jews and Christians I (14–138 c.e.)

S3.1 Kingdom of God: Theocracy The covenant between God and his people is quintessential to Judaism and Christianity. The rule of God, the kingdom of God, are ways of describing the covenant relationship. In writing to his Greco-Roman audience, Josephus felt obliged to coin a Greek word to describe the divine constitution established under Moses and by which all Jews are governed. There is endless variety in the details of the customs and laws which prevail in the world at large. To give but a summary enumeration: some peoples have entrusted the supreme political power to monarchies, others to oligarchies, yet others to the masses. Our lawgiver, however, was attracted by none of these forms of polity, but gave to his constitution the form of what—if a forced expression be permitted—may be termed a “theocracy,” placing all sovereignty and authority in the hands of God. To Him he persuaded all to look, as the author of all blessings, both those which are common to all mankind, and those which they had won for themselves by prayer in the crises of their history. He convinced them that no single action, no secret thought, could be hid from Him. He represented Him as One, uncreated and immutable to all eternity; in beauty surpassing all mortal thought, made known to us by His power, although the nature of His real being passes knowledge.321

As far as can be determined from extant Greek literature, Josephus not only coined the word “theocracy” but also was the only one to use it for the next millennium.322 His word, however, described a government that had been developing for more than a millennium, and one that had produced a large corpus of literature gathered up in the Hebrew canon and beyond. Because this word has entered modern parlance, it is heavily laden with modern understanding and needs the appropriate qualifications. God holds all sovereignty and authority, but he rules through the laws and its administrators. The administrators of the highest affairs, says Josephus, are the priests. But he is aware of the lower affairs, the administration of commerce, roads, and protecting the border, the tasks with which kings and ministers occupy themselves. In his history of the Jews, Josephus described the Jewish constitution as an aristocracy with the potential to include a king when he paraphrased the Mosaic government described in Deut 16–18. Moses said:

Jews and Christians I 287 Aristocracy, with the life that is lived thereunder, is indeed the best: let no craving possess you for another polity, but be content with this, having the laws for your masters and governing all your actions by them; for God suffices as a ruler. But should you become enamored of a king, let him be of your own race and let him have perpetual care for justice and virtue in every other form. Let him concede to the laws and to God the possession of superior wisdom, and let him do nothing without the high priest and the counsel of his senators.323

Here, God ideally rules his people through a select group of aristocrats but permits the Jews to have a king, if they so desire. The king, however, must listen to the high priest and the council. In the same Mosaic speech based on Deuteronomy, Josephus also acknowledges the role of the prophet in the divine government: “But if the judges see not how to pronounce upon the matters set before them—and with men such things aft befall—let them send up the case entire to the holy city and let the high priest and the prophet and the council of elders meet and pronounce as they think fit.” Theocracy, then, is the rule of God as the “platonic idea” behind the forms of Jewish government through its history. Jews and Christians describe the ideal in various ways, such as the yoke of the kingdom of heaven or the kingdom of God. The Hebrew Scriptures provide an inexhaustible source of authority for every conceivable expression. The changing times required adaptation of the rule of God to changing circumstances, but the offices of king, priest, and prophet were filled, and done so under the Gentile rule of empire. This tension gave rise to the separation of temporal powers, priest and king, or temple and throne, or church and state, but in all cases, the sovereignty of God was maintained in theology. If God is not sovereign, there is no theocracy, and therefore, God, as understood by Jews and Christians, does not exist, and there is no raison d’être for either people of God. The main components of theocracy are the acknowledgment of Divine Rule (worship), the acceptance of divine laws (obedience), the divinely appointed leadership in the offices of king, high priest, and prophet (divine government), the identity of the people of God (true Israel), and the sanctity of the land of Israel (boundaries).

S3.1.1 Theocracy among Jews S3.1.1.1 God: Theology and Worship For most Jews, monotheism was no longer in doubt, but the elaboration of heavenly hosts and various ways of expressing the agents of God had blurred the concept. How was one to think of the angel of YWHW (Iaeio), or Metatron? Elisha b. Abuya may have struggled over the notion of two powers in heaven. Certainly the study of the divine chariot (merkabah) and the halls (hekhalot) of the dwelling of the Most High drew Jewish thinkers into dangerous realms, and they knew it. Gnosticism is thought to have Jewish roots.324 Philo’s conception of God begins with the necessity of existence, the foundation for all existence, for which he uses the Platonic “that which exists” (Greek to ōn). Of this existential essence, humans can know nothing. We know God through the manifestation of his powers, Theos (“God”), which refers to God’s creative


action, and Kyrios (“Lord”), God’s governing action in the world. God’s activity is visible to all, but on the intellectual level, God also communicates with humankind through his Logos (“Reason,” “Word”). The Logos of God is the point of contact between the transcendent God and finite humanity. As the human reaches up with his logos, he makes contact with the Logos of God reaching down. But at the day-to-day level of human existence, one approached God humbly, seeking divine aid. Speculation on the essence of God was an idle pursuit, and indeed, ultimately a futile one: better to concentrate on terms of relationship. Worship had been formalized in the temple services, but individual prayer was largely spontaneous, though some basic prayers had been standardized. In worship, God was addressed as King, Master, and Father, among other titles. Ben Sira prayed, “O Lord, Father and Master of my life.” Akiba is said to have ended a drought by the prayer address: “Our Father, our King, we have no King but Thee; our Father, our King, for Thy sake have mercy upon us.”325 This is considered to be the origin of the formal prayer Avinu malkenu. Our Father, our King, we have sinned before Thee. Our Father, our King, we have no king but Thee. Our Father, our King, have mercy upon us.

S3.1.1.2 Laws Jews honored their ancestral customs, but allegory permitted Jews to dispense with them while still claiming the spirit of the law, or a good Jewish conscience. As a rule, Jews followed the traditional way of life, and renegades or apostates are occasionally mentioned as exceptions to the rule. Josephus describes, for a Gentile audience, how the Jews ought to follow their ideal constitution in terms that reflect their appreciation for Jeremiah’s new covenant, with the laws written on the heart.326 All Jews know their laws, for ignorance is neither a pretext nor an excuse for disobedience. There is a single creed, hence a unity and identity of religious belief that leads to uniform customs and “a very beautiful concord in human character.” And because the Law accords to the will of God, “it would be rank impiety not to observe it.” The first commandment prohibits images of God because no image can do God justice or even begin to declare his majesty. There is “one temple for the one God (for like ever loveth like), common to all as God is common to all.” Family law revolves around the principle of a natural union between a man and a woman for the purpose of procreation; all other unions are illicit. The woman is to be “submissive, not for her humiliation, but that she may be directed; for authority has been given by God to the man. The husband must have union with his wife alone; it is impious to assault the wife of another.” For the crime of adultery, the penalty is death. Abortion is prohibited, for it “destroys the soul, and diminishes the race.” After legitimate intercourse, ritual ablutions are required because the Law regards procreation; because of the partition of the soul (part of it departs from the father into the child). Children are educated in the laws and customs of their ancestors. Burials are performed by near kin, and ritual purification must follow. “Honor to

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parents the Law ranks second only to honor to God,” and the son who does not render due honor may be stoned. All respect their elders. Judges who accept bribes are executed. Those who have the power to help a neighbor but do not are liable to judgment. “These and many similar regulations are the ties which bind us together.” The punishments mentioned by Josephus were rarely inflicted, and the uniformity of Jewish life he describes is exaggerated and may be balanced by the disputes between the houses of Hillel and Shammai. According to the traditional count, there are 316 disputes preserved in the Talmuds, and of these, about one sixth present the House of Shammai in a “lenient” interpretation of the law, while the House of Hillel is considered the more lenient in all the others; hence the enduring reputation that Shammai was the strict interpreter and Hillel the lenient one. But upon scrutiny, the traditions are not at all so obvious, and the Talmudic evidence may be a much later attempt to simply organize traditions back to their legendary past.327 We can be confident that both the Pharisees and the sages of Yavneh disputed Torah and its interpretations, but the link between the two remains an assumption vigorously disputed among the scholars of our generation. The principle of halakhah developed at Yavneh, if not earlier. The word may derive from the Persian land tax, in Aramaic halkha, in which case it follows a development like rule from the Latin regula, but a more widely accepted view is that it stems from the Hebrew root “to walk” (halakh) and indicates how Jews ought to conduct themselves as members of the covenant.328 Halakhah appears in the Mishnah either as accepted customs or as interpretations of Torah. It remains a point of debate whether halakhah came from biblical exegesis or from the common acceptance of customs independent of Torah. Rabbinic awareness of the independence of the halakhah from Scripture is evident in this passage: “the halakhot about the sabbath, Festal-offerings, and sacrilege are like mountains hanging by a hair, for teaching of Scripture thereon is scanty and the halakhot are many.”329 Other rules have strong support from Scripture, and the need for authority of the scantily supported halakhot contributed to the concept of oral Torah as a later development. In this context, a distinction between halakhah and haggadah (aggadah), or between law and lore, developed. Halakhah regulated the actions of daily Jewish life. Haggadah comprised the stories, parables, legends, and explanations that either buttressed the observance of halakhah or explored the theological implications of the covenant with God. In the rabbinic system, halakhah was mandatory, whereas haggadah was largely exhortation and entertainment, an opinion that was not binding. The Pharisees, and later sages, were known for their halakhic innovation. Hillel’s prozbul (prosbul) was an effort to keep the spirit and letter of Mosaic law alive and valid. Torah required the debt of loans made between Israelites be remitted at the start of a Sabbatical Year. The good intentions of Moses notwithstanding, a natural consequence of this law is that lenders were tight with their money as the Sabbatical Year approached, and poor farmers suffered for it. Moses had warned against this tightfistedness (Deut 15:9–10), but while the law to cancel debts could be legally enforced, the injunction to lend freely could not. Hillel introduced the prosbol, derived from the Greek pros boulē (“before the assembly”), which permitted a lender to place his debt with the court, and because the court was exempt


from the law, the debt remained valid through the Sabbatical Year, to the advantage of both lender and borrower.330 Similarly, once the prohibition against work and carrying loads on the sabbath was widely observed, it was found that the rules were preventing full communal activity on the sabbath, and joy was diminished, so the principle of eruvin was invented. Some object was placed between dwellings, thereby linking them into a single larger domain in which people could carry items. A tractate in the Mishnah is devoted to the concept. One of the most enduring inventions, and one that was in the process of development during the first century, is the prohibition against mixing milk and meat, for which there is no biblical commandment. The law behind it is “You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk.”331 The original intent was apparently to foster the humane treatment of animals, similar to the prohibition against taking the eggs from a nest and killing the mother bird.332 But among the sages, and perhaps the Houses of Hillel and Shammai, the law came to be: No flesh may be cooked in milk excepting the flesh of fish and locusts; and no flesh may be served up on the table together with cheese excepting the flesh of fish and locusts. A fowl may be served up on the table together with cheese, but may not be eaten with it.333

Sages debated the inclusion of birds in the prohibition, since, as Jose the Galilean pointed out, birds cannot give milk, but no one seems to have questioned the extension of the biblical law to the principle of mixing milk and meat in a single meal. Across the sea, Philo appears unaware of a prohibition against milk and meat. He knew the law of Torah and explained the prohibition on humanitarian grounds: God “looked upon it as a very terrible thing for the nourishment of the living to be the seasoning and sauce of the dead animal.”334 He allows one to boil a baby goat in the milk of a cow, but to be safe, not in the milk of a goat since it might have come from the mother. The rationale of the sages may come from the fact that the law is given three times, suggesting that additional principles were to be derived from it in due course. The ruling further constrained table fellowship among Jews. Another feature of rabbinic law that emerges in the second century is the concept of the Noachian (or Noachide) laws applicable to Gentiles, and therefore particularly important to Gentile Christians. The fact that God had commanded Adam and Noah to follow certain laws meant that all humanity was under divine guidance and constraint.335 Already by the first century b.c.e., in the book of Jubilees, Noah gives his sons the ordinances, commandments, and the judgments he knew that were to be observed by all nations of the earth: that they might do justice and cover the shame of their flesh and bless the one who created them and honor father and mother, and each one love his neighbor and preserve themselves from fornication and pollution and from all injustice. . . . And no man who eats blood or sheds the blood of man will remain upon the earth.336

Josephus, in retelling the story of Noah and the flood, explains that the prohibition against blood is because of the life in the blood.337 In his elaboration of the moral laws of the Jews, mentioned above, Josephus equates them with the ideal law of the Greeks, invites all Gentiles to follow them, and declares the reward for those who


do live by the law to be eternal life, without suggesting a Gentile must be circumcised and become a Jew.338 A generation after Josephus, probably during the reign of Hadrian, the Tannaim codified the Noachian laws into seven: courts of justice, idolatry, blasphemy, fornication (and incest), bloodshed, theft, and eating a limb cut from a living beast (blood).339 The Noachian Septalogue provided the Tannaim, whose abiding interest was in observing the law, a basis for their endorsement of a righteous Gentile who has a share in the world to come because of obedience, without entering fully into the covenant of the Jews. Rabbinic tradition reports that Rabbi Meir used to say: Whence do we know that even a Gentile who studies the Torah is equal to a High Priest? From the following verse: Ye shall therefore keep My statutes and My ordinances which, if a man do, he shall live by them (Lev 18:5). It does not say “If a Priest, Levite, or Israelite do, he shall live by them,” but “a man”; here, then, you can learn that even a Gentile who studies the Torah is equal to a High Priest.340

The Talmud comments that “Torah” refers to the seven laws. Around the same time, a group of sages declared that all the laws of Torah may be broken in order to save one’s life, except three: idolatry, fornication (adultery and incest), and bloodshed. Rather than violate these laws, included among the Noachian rule, a Jew should prefer death.341 S3.1.1.3 Leaders S3.1.1.3.1 Kingship For the vast majority of Jews in the West, the emperor of Rome was the legitimate ruler, and by his leave, descendants of Herod the Great held various forms of vice-kingship in Judaea. Augustus Caesar had set the model for the ideal king, and Jews hoped each new emperor would imitate him. Philo and Josephus praised Augustus to the highest heaven for the good reason that he represented the best they could realistically hope for. This ideology of empire governed the daily life of Jews. A similar version of this existed in the East under the Parthians. The only alternative to the reality of imperial rule was a Jewish king independent of Roman rule, but the Jewish record on that count, the Hasmoneans, did not fill hearts with confidence. The descendants of Herod were an uneven lot, a focal point for the normal ruling aristocracy. Agrippa I had been remarkably popular, and he had given his all to persuade Caligula not to desecrate the temple. His son Agrippa II was also popular, but a true puppet king whose powerlessness over his kingdom became apparent when the revolt against Rome began. We have no record of what the Zealots really thought about winning a war against Rome and how they expected to rule the kingdom of Judaea if they succeeded. Perhaps a few Zealot leaders held such hopes for themselves, but realistically, they could only expect some Jew who could reach an agreement with Rome to take over the kingship, like Herod the Great had done. After the death of Agrippa II around 100, the office of vice-kingship again lay vacant. The only meaningful alternative to Roman rule was the messiah: a royal figure backed by sufficient power to crush Rome and all other enemies. It is a matter of


speculation as to how realistic the expectation of a messiah was in the minds of most Jews. The name never escapes the pen of Philo, and in all his writings, Josephus mentions the word “messiah” but once or twice, and it refers to “Jesus who was called the Messiah.” The only other time a real human being is called the Messiah is from the mouth of Akiba, referring to Simon Bar Kosiba (Kokhba), but this tradition is also suspect. Bar Kosiba called himself ha-Nasi, “the Prince,” and while he may have meant the title in keeping with the ideal king of Ezekiel’s visions, he did not presume to be the Messiah.342 Nor did Josephus deign to call the several small-time rebels who gathered a following during his life as even “false messiahs.” Josephus does say some of the rebels who rose up after the death of Herod displayed royal aspirations, but that was just when there was no puppet king in Judaea, and we are left to imagine how the aspirants and their followers thought of themselves and their chances of success. Did any of them use the title Messiah, and Josephus suppressed it? We do not know, but since Josephus was willing to admit Jesus was “called the Messiah” we may suppose none of the others were widely hailed as a messiah. In the Jewish literature of this era, the few mentions of the messiah are in the context of the end times (Greek eschaton). In that context, the coming of the messiah was no more realistic than the end of the world as they knew it. The messiah was not only the ideal king but also brought with him the ideal world. The messiahs of the Psalms of Solomon and the Qumran scrolls remained the basic concept of messiah, found also in 4 Ezra and the ambiguous Sibylline Oracles. It is possible that some people expected an all-powerful messiah to set up a real kingdom in defiance of Rome, without the cataclysmic reordering of the world, but evidence for such hopes is scarce indeed. It may be that most Jews prayed for the coming of the messiah. The fourteenth benediction of the Palestinian Amidah seeks God’s mercy toward “the kingdom of the house of David, Thy righteous anointed one.” The impression given by the evidence is that most Jews hoped for the messiah but expected him to be so obviously accompanied by divine power that few could doubt it, rather than the few credulous souls who accepted it. Johanan ben Zakkai probably spoke for the majority of Jewish leaders when he said, “If you have a sapling tree in your hand, and they say to you, ‘Look, the Messiah has come’—go and plant your sapling, then go and greet the Messiah.”343 During the second century, if not the first, the concept of the messiah, despite the association with Bar Kokhba, is largely removed from the category of human leaders to that of divine agents over which God alone has control. S3.1.1.3.2 Priesthood The high-priestly families led the sacrificial cult in Jerusalem for all Jews everywhere. That the high priest was appointed by Herodians or Roman governors was a blight on its reputation, but the golden age of the Zadokite high priests had become a faint memory. During the earlier era of the Hasmoneans, the Jews who separated themselves from the temple cult and the illegitimate high priest had begun an alternate community exemplified by the Covenanters of Qumran. During the Herodian era, the Pharisees may have imitated this as well by their own priestly


purity. Although there is very little evidence the Pharisees, or the Sages who followed, applied Exod 19:5–6 as their governing principle, the extension of priestly purity to their meals and fellowship implies a priesthood of Israelites. After the destruction of the temple, some priests became prominent sages, but in general the priests seem to have retained their previous organization in 24 courses (detachments) by which they had served in the temple and gradually congregated in various cities and towns. Priests also took up specific duties in the evolving synagogue liturgy, particularly in reading the Torah and delivering the priestly blessings.344 Johanan b. Zakkai decreed that priests should deliver their blessings barefoot, as they had done in the temple.345 Priests who had been among the wealthy elite prior to the war no doubt found a way to retain much of their wealth thereafter and remained among the upper classes. S3.1.1.3.3 Prophet The office of prophet could be filled by any Israelite, and it is no surprise that some of the charismatic leaders who gathered followers in support of their cause were seen as prophets. This category of leadership required only a proclamation: the claim to speak for God. John the Baptist was among the more well known, and Jesus followed him, then Theudas and others. Prophets were not a threat to the political order per se, but the call for righteousness did tend to upset the stratification and privileges of society. Prophets were inherently annoying and dangerous. The more subtle office of prophet was the interpreter of the word of God, the Torah. Both Qumran Covenanters and Pharisees had vied with priests and Sadducees for this office. After 70, the rabbis appropriated it and established their claim through a chain of authority going back to Moses. He who controlled Torah controlled the kingdom. The opening statement of the Mishnah tractate Avot (Sayings of the Fathers) was probably formulated before the Bar Kokhba revolt, even though the tractate was compiled a century later and provides a basis for the prophetic office of Torah interpretation. Moses received the Torah from Sinai and committed it to Joshua, and Joshua to the elders, and the elders to the Prophets; and the Prophets committed it to the men of the Great Assembly. They said three things: Be deliberate in judgment, raise up many disciples, and make a fence around Torah.

This is a statement of authority. A chain of named authorities is then given. The sages at Yavneh soon made the formal address of rabbi into a title of distinction. Tradition says every master ordained his own students: Johanan b. Zakkai ordained Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Joshua; Rabbi Joshua ordained Rabbi Akiba, and onward. This traditional view, however, has little external support. During the early years at Yavneh, the recognition of a sage as rabbi was most likely informal, a term of honor given by others. While none of the sages before 70 are called Rabbi, such as Hillel and Shammai, not all of the sages after 70 are called Rabbi. The title Rabbi was not restricted to sages of rabbinic tradition, for it occurs on a number of ossuary and donor inscriptions during this era, none of which can be certainly identified with rabbis of the Mishnah.346 The prohibition in the Gospel of Matthew against


accepting the honorific address suggests a more widespread application for scholars, but it does not prove the ordination of rabbis had begun at Yavneh. S3.1.3.3.4 Synagogue Leaders The leaders of the synagogues varied over time and location. Moreover, they were distinct from the community leaders, members of the council of elders in cities, though one person might hold positions in both areas. The well-known Theodotos inscription, dated to the Herodian era, that adorned a synagogue in Jerusalem mentions two leadership positions.347 Theodotos, the son of Vettenos, priest and archisynagogos, son of an archisynagogos, grandson of an archisynagogos, built the synagogue for reading the Law and teaching the commandments, and the guest chamber, the rooms, the water installations as an inn for those in need from foreign lands, which [synagogue] his fathers founded together with the elders and Simonides.

The position of “ruler of the synagogue” (archisynagōgos) is widely attested on inscriptions and in literature. In rabbinic tradition, the rosh keneset (“head of the synagogue”) is likely the equivalent.348 The office, however, is not often explained. Another title is simply archon, and the generic nature of “ruler” or “chief ” is ideal for a variety of responsibilities, both financial and administrative. Elders (presbyteroi) are well attested in the inscriptions, but again, little is known of their responsibilities. The title is traditional and vague, and it may have simply represented the governing board of a synagogue. Various assistant positions in synagogues are known as “attendant,” and one of the early functions may have been caretaker of the Torah scroll and to produce it for sabbath readings, as did the attendant for the synagogue in Nazareth.349 A prominent position in the synagogues of Palestine, judging from rabbinic tradition, was that of hazan, which may have been a minister for the general welfare, comparable to an attendant of a Hellenic temple or a deacon in government affairs. The duties of the synagogue assistants no doubt expanded after 70 to the general supervision of Torah reading, recitation of prayers, and instruction of children.350 Rabbinic tradition tells of a congregation that requested a rabbi to come and serve as a preacher, teacher, judge, and hazan.351 Two honorary positions were the Pater Synagogues and Mater Synagogues, and the titles are equivalent to patron and patroness. Some inscriptions refer to a “father of the people” or an “elder and father of the community.”352 In the Palestine, women played a small role, but in the Roman Diaspora, nearly 30 percent of the named benefactors were women. Even Gentile women benefactresses, who were at least God-fearers, received permanent seats of honor in the synagogue whenever they chose to attend. Synagogue inscriptions also refer to women elders (presbytera). Beyond the honorary positions for women, and the office of elder, women do not appear to have played prominent roles in synagogue leadership, although they undoubtedly lent a good deal of support in community life and participated in synagogue worship. Synagogue inscriptional evidence suggests that Jewish communities conformed to the Gentile society in which they dwelt. Where women played a more prominent role in society, they were given more prominence in the synagogues;


and we should not assume the title, which was that of leaders, was honorary simply because it was held by a woman.353 S3.1.1.4 People of God Jewish identity remained primarily an ethnic identity, as it had been for centuries but with an increasingly religious association. The name Jew was used by Jews and Gentiles across the spectrum to refer to people who identified themselves as Jews anywhere in the known world, and going back as far as Abraham. The steady increase of Gentiles sympathetic to Jewish practice and belief, and outright conversion to Judaism, however, broadened the religious identity and increased the need for a conversion process that maintained the identity. Philo, Josephus, and others note the kinship of common devotion to God and welcome any who wish to join them. Abraham became known as the Father of Proselytes, certainly as the first proselyte to accept God, hence the spiritual father of all Gentiles who accept the God of the Jews thereafter, but also as the first to proselytize the Gentiles. Josephus, in retelling the life of Abraham, says he became a “missionary,” for when he went to Egypt during the famine he intended to evaluate the Egyptian religion against his own and conform to their doctrine if it seemed more excellent than his own or to “convert them to a better mind should his own beliefs prove superior.”354 As we have seen, Jews held differing opinions on the necessity of circumcision for Jewish identity, including the acceptance of proselytes. Until the rabbinic era, conversion into the Jewish community was a private affair, without a regulated ceremony, but no doubt guided by the expectations of the local Jewish community. Jews who did not insist on literal circumcision or held differing views on the dietary laws were exceptions that proved the rule. Most men who became Jews undoubtedly were circumcised because they wanted to become Jews, but the surgery could be done by anyone, including a Gentile. Women mostly entered the Jewish community through marriage upon a declaration to become a member, and most intended to keep a kosher home, at least to the extent the husband desired. By the second century, the ritual of immersion (baptism) appears to have become a custom enjoined on male and female converts. It is supposed that women were converting to Judaism independently as well as through marriage, and some ritual was desirable. A passage in the Palestinian Talmud states that R. Eliezer held circumcision was the determining ritual that made a conversion valid, while R. Joshua insisted on both circumcision and immersion.355 At this time, we also see the first evidence for the matrilineal descent principle of Jewish identity, by which a Jewish mother guaranteed the Jewish identity of offspring, but a Jewish father did not. The matrilineal principle was a rabbinic innovation, unknown in biblical and Second Temple times. It was most likely based on the Roman law of status, or possibly extrapolated from the prohibition against the mixture of diverse kinds by which the offspring of a Jew and Gentile follows the mother.356 The name Israel took on different meanings over the centuries since the etymology of the name was first given in the traditions of Genesis to Jacob after he struggled with the “man” at the brook Jabbok.

296 Vines Intertwined And Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched the hollow of his thigh; and Jacob’s thigh was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” And he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” Then he said, “Your name shall no more be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed. . . . So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.”357

The Septuagint translated the biblical etymology of the name Israel as “you have prevailed with God and shall be mighty with men,” thereby enabling the Diaspora people of Israel to become God’s powerful agent on earth. The author of Jubilees, during the Hasmonean era, passed over the incident at the brook Jabbok and mentioned only the confirmation of the name change given by God later at Bethel in a dream-vision: “Your name will not be called Jacob, but you will be named Israel.” In the context of the narrative, the name Israel now refers to a priestly and holy people and ignores the etymology of a struggle with God.358 Josephus likewise avoided a certain embarrassing aspect of the Genesis incident in his account of Jewish history. Josephus calls the “man” a phantom. The phantom engages Jacob in the contest, and when Jacob prevails over the phantom, he understands that he has defeated an angel of God and that his victory augurs the assurance that “his race would never be extinguished and that no mortal man would surpass him in strength.” The angel then bade Jacob to take the name Israel, which means “the opponent of an angel of God.” The reputation of having “striven with God” was clearly an onerous burden for postexilic Jews. Josephus, following his central theme to depict the Jews as peaceful and loyal subjects, also omits the biblical verdict that Jacob (Israel) has striven with men (Rome).359 Philo offered a new etymology, even if he did not invent it, to the name Israel as “one who sees God.” This meaning is implied in Jacob’s claim after the struggle with his antagonist that he had seen God. The etymological root in Hebrew, however, comes from the words roeh (“see”) and El (“God”), probably prefaced by the word ish (“man” or “one”), yielding ish roeh El (“one who sees God”) for Israel.360 Although Philo used the name Israel as an identifier of the land as well as the people, the significance of the name was to draw lessons on how to know, that is, see, God. “Now to see the best, that is the truly existing, is the lot of the best of races, Israel, for Israel means seeing God.”361 Philo also allegorized the victory of Jacob in the wrestling match at the brook Jabbok: after Jacob had proven his strength and received the name Israel, he represents the point of contact, the boundary, between heaven and earth. Israel, therefore, is the Logos, who serves as the point of contact between God and humanity.362 The identification of Israel with the Logos is also coupled with the priestly service of the Jews before the one God, to provide a rich description of the ideal Israel as the mediator between God and all the earth. This meaning of Israel opened the door to Gentiles who sought to know God and thereby join Israel, for in that identity, a spiritual kinship of common desire was greater than kinship of ethnic origin. In his allegorical


writings, Philo tended to distinguish between “Israel” and the “Jews”; in his historical writing, On the Embassy to Gaius, however, Philo identified the Jewish people as Israel, so it is apparent that Gentiles who accept what is called ethical monotheism and favor the Jews are entitled to enter into Israel, “he that sees God.”363 The relationship of a Gentile who enters Israel with the Jewish nation is not entirely clear, because Jewish definitions of a proselyte and social acceptance of a Gentile God-fearer remained fluid at this stage of history. The Torah designation of the “sojourner” within your gates, or “resident alien” ( ger toshav), prompted Philo to explain the sojourner, the “proselyte,” as not one who circumcises the flesh but one who circumcises the desires and sensual pleasures and passions of the soul and who rejects other gods. He also says that kinship is of two kinds, ancestry and of the soul, among those with a common desire for the one God; and two kinds of circumcision, of the flesh and of the heart. Such a Gentile who rejected polytheism and honored the “one God and father of all,” while remaining uncircumcised, may be called a “monotheistic proselyte.”364 The sages also accepted Gentiles into a category of ethical monotheism, or righteous Gentile. One sage in the third century could state that “anyone who repudiates idolatry is called a Jew.”365 That did not mean, however, that a righteous Gentile was a bona fide member of the Jewish people, nor within the designation of Israel. Later rabbinic tradition adopts a highly exclusive identity of being God’s chosen people, one possessing the intimacy of his monogamous spouse. In their ideal world Israel is the people of God, defined as not Gentile but also as not priests and not Samaritans.366 In some spheres of rabbinic tradition, more prominent in the Babylonian Talmud than in the Palestinian, the sages will distinguish themselves from the common people of the land (amme ha-aretz) and equate them with Gentiles. But it is worth reminding ourselves that the rabbis were not monolithic in their views, and they too change over time. Marriage outside the Jewish community was universally discouraged in the literature of the Second Temple period, and constantly practiced among the people. At one extreme, the prohibition of Ezra to protect the holy seed was advanced by the communities of the Jubilees and the Dead Sea Scrolls. For them, marriage or simple sexual relations outside the Jewish people is fornication, and the penalty is death. Others, like Philo and Josephus, accept the ban but on the grounds that intermarriage will lead to immorality, a dilution of the religion and the ways of their ancestors. However, if a Gentile were to join the Jewish community, marriage is permitted. The acceptance of proselyte marriage was consistent with Torah, which does not prohibit intermarriage, except with the seven (by then extinct) Canaanite peoples, and this had been for fear of being led astray, not to preserve biological purity.367 Luke’s mention (Acts 16:3) en passant of the marriage of the Jewish mother and Greek father of Timothy, companion of Paul, is but one example of the prevalence of Jewish intermarriage throughout antiquity. The early rabbinic position built upon the notion of proselyte marriage, although some sages condemned conversion for the sake of marriage.368 Other sages would view all proselytes in a negative light. Helbo, a late third-century sage in Palestine, compared them to a wound or a scab on Israel.369


3.1.1.5 Land of Israel Philo, with a sense of distant nostalgia, spoke of Palestine as the Holy Land and Jerusalem as the Holy City.370 The city and land were holy because of the temple in Jerusalem, the dwelling place of Yahweh. All Jews understood that as one approached the temple of God, higher levels of purity applied. Many Jews in Palestine were very sensitive to the purity of the temple and willing to die for its sanctification. For Bar Kokhba and his followers, the sanctity of the land was probably more intense than others felt for their homeland. But as the Diaspora proved, most Jews chose to live outside the land of Israel and pray toward it. That did not change after the destruction of the temple and the exclusion of Jews from Jerusalem. It only made the nostalgia deeper. For the rabbis, the Land of Israel served as the outer boundary of holiness, the center of which was the Holy of Holies. “There are ten degrees of holiness. The Land of Israel is holier than any other land.”371 The absence of the temple did not lessen the geography of holiness. Jews outside the Land were to pray toward Israel, and those in Israel toward Jerusalem, and those in Jerusalem toward the temple mount, and those on the temple mount toward the Holy of Holies. The Land of Israel was the boundary of many laws dealing with tithe, purity, and the Sabbatical Year. The ideal life of a Jew was to dwell in Israel, but the rabbis were aware of the political and economic realities of the world. Some noted that the presence of God (Shekinah) could be found anywhere on earth.372 And Babylonian sages could insist that “living in Babylon is like living in Palestine.”373

S3.1.2 Theocracy among Christians S3.1.2.1 God: Theology and Worship Jesus distinguished his simple theology by his sense of intimacy with God as Father. The model Lord’s Prayer begins with “Our Father,” and Jesus often invoked God as Father in his parables. In this, Jesus followed late biblical tradition, as well as previous generations of Jews, but he seems to have stressed it more. His use of Abba, once thought to be the equivalent of a child’s “daddy!” has since been soundly rejected, but it testifies to the simplicity of his faith.374 Because Jesus addressed his own people, the existence of God, the rule of God, and Jewish worship of God were assumed, and he made no case for monotheism beyond acceptance of the Shema. Jesus emphasized the parental aspect of God with his people and the individual’s sincere and childlike approach to God the Father. Although Jesus often spoke of the kingdom of God (or heaven), the Gospels never have Jesus refer to God as king, except by allusion in parables. In formal worship, however, God was still king. The Jews who first followed Jesus did not see the elevation of Jesus to the right hand of God the Father as a compromise of monotheism. Different views of divine agency, the personification of Wisdom, Logos, archangels, and the Son of Man in 1 Enoch opened the way for the elevation of Jesus. It is quite possible that the hymn in Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi is among the earliest confessions of faith.


Paul inserted (or perhaps composed) the hymn after urging his people to adopt the same mind that was in Christ Jesus: who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross. Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.375

The hymn is interpreted in two basic ways: 1) Jesus is compared with Adam, who was created in the image of God yet rebelled as if equal to God; Jesus, however, accepted his human status and was obedient even to the point of death. 2) Jesus was preexistent and “in the form of God,” yet he accepted the task of becoming human and remained obedient to the point of death. The main question between the two views is whether or not the preexistence and divine status of Jesus can have developed so clearly within the first two decades after his death. In either interpretation, Jesus is highly exalted with the name above every name, and by the time of John’s prologue, the status of Jesus is clear: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Monotheism, however, is carefully sustained, since it is God’s action that exalted Jesus, and the exaltation itself is to the glory of God. By the close of the New Testament era, Jesus had become the divine agent par excellence of God’s activity. Jesus was therefore identified by the existing personifications of divine action, Wisdom or Logos, both of which were pre-existent and agents of creation. Jesus differed from the personifications of God’s activity in that he became flesh, a true human being, and as a man he became the agent of God’s redemption, again identified with an existing biblical figure, the Son of Man. The title Son of God, applicable to many humans, indeed, all who revere God as father, became unique when applied to Jesus: the only begotten Son of God. The title Lord applied to Jesus as the agent of God’s governing of the world. Jesus had become, at least for some of his followers, the full manifestation of the unknowable God. Therefore, Jesus, however his relationship to God may have been perceived, was worthy of worship. Christian theology had become, in some sense, binitarian.376


In a similar development, the story of Mary’s virginal conception emerged during the first four decades of the Jesus movement. Neither Paul nor the Gospels of Mark and John mention the tradition, so that if any of them knew of it, they ignored it for their own reasons. Only the Gospels of Matthew and Luke offer a birth narrative of Jesus, and despite considerable historical differences, including distinct genealogies, both declare the miraculous conception of Jesus by the Holy Spirit in the womb of Mary. Like all miracles, this lies beyond the reach of historians, but both accounts probably draw on a prior tradition, and do so independent of the other. At one time, it was argued the entire concept of a divine impregnation came from Hellenistic mythology of a “divine man” (theos anēr), such as attributed to Alexander the Great or Augustus, but the earliest record of the virgin birth by the Jewish Gospel of Matthew argues against a Hellenistic divine origin, for which the Messiah of Israel had no need. Matthew seized upon a controversial Greek translation of Isaiah 7:14 as a prophecy: “Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel (which means, God with us).” On the other hand, neither Isaiah 7:14 (ignored by Luke) nor any other biblical verse had established in Jewish tradition an expectation that the messiah would come from a miraculous conception. It appears, therefore, that some question about the birth of Jesus required an explanation; namely, Mary became pregnant after she was betrothed to Joseph, but before she came to live with him. Like the accusation of sorcery leveled against Jesus, the illegitimacy of his birth may go back to his own day—an issue perhaps hinted in the Gospel of Mark where the Nazareth villagers call Jesus the son of Mary (not of Joseph). The mystery was resolved by two competing explanations: a liaison (or rape) between Mary and a Roman soldier, or a miraculous conception by the Spirit of God. Within our sources the miraculous explanation precedes the other by at least a century, and it became a fundamental doctrine in the proclamation of Jesus as the divine Son of God, and in due course the elevation of Mary into the heavenly halls as the Virgin Mother.377 Gentiles who joined the congregation of God did, of course, perceive Jesus in terms they understood, principally the divine man concept, and brought to their thinking the many associations from Hellenistic mythology or mystery religions. Analogy is the basis of understanding and could not be avoided. The earliest artistic portrayals of Jesus, prior to 180, depict him as a young, beardless, semi-clad, itinerant philosopher or wonder worker, like many a wandering teacher and miracle worker of the Greco-Roman world. Indeed, the Judaism of the day, whether in Palestine or the Diaspora, was already infused by Hellenistic concepts. But Hellenistic association is not Hellenistic origins, as scholars used to argue. The Hebrew roots of Christianity are the mark of authenticity. Insofar as we may speak of a protoorthodoxy, or an apostolic Christianity, the “proto” and the “apostolic” are Jewish. S3.1.2.2 Laws The laws of the covenant laid down for the people of God had long been controversial among the Jews and became the first point of controversy among Christians. Obedience to the laws was the mark of loyalty to God; conformity to the customs


expressed loyalty to the people. But there was room to maneuver within the bounds of loyalty, and all the diversity of Torah observance to be found among the Jews carried over, it appears, into the first followers of Jesus. While Diaspora Jews debated allegorical versus literal interpretations and the House of Hillel debated the House of Shammai over the finer points, Jewish believers likely debated Torah based on differing recollections of the teaching of Jesus, or how different leaders thought the laws ought to be observed. The allegorical method was not prominent during the early years of Christian deliberation, though it became important in the postapostolic era. But the internal Jewish debate was soon overshadowed by the question of Gentile inclusion into the new covenant. Jesus epitomized the Torah in its two greatest commandments: first love God (Deut 6:5), and then love your neighbor (Lev 19:18). The epitome describes the two tablets of the Decalogue. The one tablet dealt with relations between God and his people; the second tablet dealt with relations among God’s people. The first may be called cultic or worship; the second may be called ethical or moral and was often summarized in the Golden Rule, although Jesus did not originate the Rule and may not even have taught it. What Jesus did teach was, love your enemies.378 Behind the epitome, however, the relationship of the historical Jesus to the Torah has not often been clearly evaluated. Over the past 20 years, several scholars have begun to redress the deficiency. To pass along the mantra of a leading scholar: “The historical Jesus is the halakhic Jesus.”379 Jesus did not oppose Torah. In essence, Jesus taught halakhah in keeping with a restored Israel and a new creation. This may have been in concert with an expectation that the kingdom of God already begun in his ministry would soon be fulfilled in all Israel, but whatever the expectations of Jesus, his teachings abide for what they were, easy or not. As we have seen, the Gospels give considerable space to the conflict stories between Jesus and other Jewish leaders over the interpretation of Torah. At times Jesus appears lenient, at times strict. Occasionally we can identify his views with other groups, Essenes or Pharisees, but some of the judgments of Jesus are unique. Jesus forbade all oaths, because they involved God in petty human efforts to ensure truth when they ought to speak the truth. Jesus prohibited divorce for any reason, but if it occurred, celibacy was the appropriate response of both parties. Jesus offered pragmatic judgments on sabbath rest that facilitated a peasant’s life; doing all sorts of good works was permitted, and he ignored the sabbath limits that one could travel (about a thousand yards). Jesus supported the payment of tithes, offerings, and the temple tax. As far as the sources allow, Jesus ignored ritual purity regulations, a silence that suggests he accepted them as they were, but they were irrelevant to his mission. The high standard of ethical conduct was passed along to his followers, even if many of his halakhic rulings were lost to their memories. Jewish believers in Jesus welcomed Jews into the new covenant and taught the high Torah interpretations of Jesus concerning the laws. Gentiles were also welcomed, as they were welcomed in any Diaspora synagogue, and it was understood they would abide by the laws if they wished to be fully integrated into the Jewish community.


Paul’s gospel to the Gentiles, however, changed the rules of entry into the covenant people of God. Because Gentiles, indeed, everyone, entered into the new covenant by the grace of God through faith in Jesus, the distinctive laws that served to mark out the Jews from the rest of humanity were no longer necessary. In some cases, they might even be harmful to the purpose of the new covenant, which was to include all nations in the people of God. Paul, as a Diaspora Jew, observed that circumcision, food restrictions, and the sabbath were the three markers of Jewishness that separated Jews from the Gentiles. But since there was now no distinction between Jews and Gentiles in Christ, he annulled these three laws on the grounds that the death and resurrection of Jesus rendered them obsolete. They had once served a purpose but now became a hindrance. Paul did not object to an individual abiding by these laws, so long as no one insisted they were membership requirements in the new covenant. It is unlikely Paul would have objected to any Jew or Gentile observing the sabbath rest in a most strict manner, or donning tefillin for prayer, or abstaining from pork, or circumcising sons, or facing Jerusalem when in prayer, so long as the activity was considered an act of devotion to God. But if any such action was required in order to enter into the new covenant or claimed to be obedience to God, and therefore a mark of righteousness, Paul would condemn the practice. The reason for a practice became the defining criterion for its validity. After he condemned sabbath observance in his letter to the Galatians because they thought its observance was required, Paul could later say the sabbath law was optional. After condemning the requirement of circumcision to be in the covenant, Paul could counsel the uncircumcised Timothy, who had a Jewish mother, to be circumcised in order to preach the gospel among the Jews. Paul could be Jewish or Gentile as required for his mission of the gospel, and he urged his congregations to imitate him by giving no unnecessary offense to either Jew or Greek.380 The debate among the followers of Jesus, as we saw, was central to the identity of the new movement. The Gospel of Mark, written for a Gentile audience, liberated them from the Jewish marker law of a kosher diet by interpreting the teaching of Jesus on ritual defilement versus spiritual defilement to mean all foods were acceptable. In the Gospel of Matthew, written primarily to Jews, Jesus stresses his compliance with Torah, if only by his own interpretation of halakhah, and ignores the marker laws of circumcision and diet because, we may assume, they were noncontroversial: circumcision was required and swine’s flesh was forbidden. Only sabbath observance required his attention. Jesus had little, if anything, to say about the Torah requirements for Gentiles, a silence that no doubt facilitated Paul’s approach to the Gentiles. However, his brother James, according to Acts, was forced to render judgment on laws required of the Gentiles and essentially put forward a modified Noachian rule: Gentiles were to avoid idolatry, sexual immorality, the eating of meat improperly slaughtered, and blood (or bloodshed). These marker laws were already well known among Gentiles interested in the God of the Jews because, as James points out, for a long time in every city where Gentiles frequent the synagogues, the laws of Moses have been read.381 The prohibitions issued by James conform to the requirements for any resident alien (Gentile) or sojourner in


the land of Israel, and the three capital offenses (idolatry, fornication, bloodshed) that the sages declared were forbidden to be broken even on pain of death. A number of the laws mentioned by Josephus in his summary of the Jewish way of life would have been included in the moral code of Jewish believers and pressed upon Gentiles entering the church, such as a prohibition against abortion. The fifth commandment, honoring parents, was not discarded by Paul or any apostle as far as we know. The tenth commandment, “you shall not covet,” was unique in that it was the only law in the Decalogue to constrain human desire. Jesus had applied it to all the other moral commandments, raising the bar of obedience from improper action to improper desire. Paul also used this unique law to argue that the purpose of the laws of God had been to show people how they did not live up to the law of loving your neighbor. There does not seem to have been any dispute among the Jewish believers over the goal of the law to perfect human behavior. Paul followed the epitome of Jesus: “Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.” James likewise described the command “Love your neighbor as yourself ” as the “royal law.”382 While the temple stood, the laws regulating the temple cult were valid. There is no indication that Jewish believers argued for the abolition of the temple sacrifices. The speech of Stephen in Acts, which appears to condemn the validity of the Torah and temple, is in fact a response to the false charges of attacking Torah and temple.383 The church of Jerusalem, led by James, and all the congregations in Judaea continued to observe the temple cult along with all Torah.384 Jewish believers continued to support the temple cult with their half shekel, as the example of Jesus directed.385 The unique pericope in Matthew of Jesus and the temple tax would have been all the more meaningful after the temple was destroyed when the tax was applied as the fiscus Iudaicus on all Jews who continued to practice Judaism. The tax became an annual payment for Jewish identity. According to Acts, Paul also went up to the temple to purify himself and help others fulfill their Nazarite vows.386 But Paul knew the belief that the death of Jesus was the true sacrifice of the paschal lamb, which became a central theme of the Gospel of John, and this laid the foundation for commemorating Passover after the temple was gone.387 The letter to the Hebrews likewise compensated for the absence of the temple by showing how the sacrifice of Jesus had reconciled God to the world from eternity past, and therefore the loss of the temple was insignificant, a ritual whose time had passed. But while the temple stood, it was the focal point of the worship of Jewish believers, just as among all Jews. The primary distinction in the ritual laws between Christians and Jews was the rite of the Eucharist, or Lord’s Supper. Baptism had replaced circumcision for men, and applied to women as well, but as immersion gained popularity among Jews in a conversion ceremony, baptism/immersion would be a mark of Jewish and Christian monotheism, not a distinction between them, for any Gentile seeking the one true God. Converts were baptized initially “into Christ,” proving that identification with Jesus was the focal point of the rite. Baptism was performed in flowing water (a river) if possible, but according to the early instructions of the Didache (ca. 100–115), if insufficient water was available, one could baptize by pouring water over the head three times; but in all ways it was done “in the name


of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”388 The rite of the Eucharist, while innovative to Jewish believers, developed from the Last Supper, itself a Jewish ritual, and therefore was as much a continuation of Judaism as a distinction from it (to be discussed below). S3.1.2.3 Leaders The response to Roman rule noted above among the majority of Jews applies even more so to the Gentiles who followed Jesus. Christians saw the world within the ideology of empire and accepted the legitimacy of imperial rule. For Christians, as for Jews, the alternative was the intervention of God, which for most would usher in the Messianic age, however vague the notion may have been during the first century of the church. Paul and others had to deal with the accusation that by preaching the kingship of Jesus, they were at least challenging the legitimacy of Roman rule, and at most advocating rebellion (Acts 17:6–9). Paul (Rom 13:1–7) and the author of 1 Peter (2:13–17) vigorously defended the followers of Jesus against the charge of sedition by advocating loyal submission to Roman rule. The Gospels are at pains to distinguish Jesus the Messiah from any political pretention. Arguments that the New Testament documents are engaged in a cover-up for a more politically active Jesus and his followers have failed to gain a wide following. That is not to say Jesus, Paul, and others of the apostolic age were not engaged in an egalitarian movement within society and especially in the church, which by its nature undermined the class structure and hierarchy of the empire. Paul’s dictum that there was neither slave nor free in Christ did just that. But judging from our literary remains, Christians had few illusions about trying to impose their egalitarianism or divine justice on the empire, or in any other way overthrow Roman social structure. Paul’s acceptance of slavery is but one of many examples.389 Within the church, leadership imitated the Jewish community. The first Jews who devoted their lives to Jesus are best compared with a community of Essenes or with Pharisees who traversed land and sea for a single convert. They were Jews who never heard the word “Christian,” though they may have embraced the name if it meant more suffering for their master. The Christian community and its leaders over the first hundred years falls into three stages: Jesus and his disciples; the apostolic era (ca. 30–70) of the house church; the postapostolic organization of house churches (ca. 70–140).390 S3.1.2.3.1 Jesus and His Followers He was the master, they were the disciples. Because he spoke with a unique sense of authority, the crowds saw Jesus as a prophet. The dominant model of the Jesus of history was the prophet, one of the anointed offices. Possibly within his life, but certainly within a few years after his resurrection, Jesus was also the anointed king. These two anointed offices were portrayed in the incident known as Peter’s confession: “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.”391


The third office of high priest was given later, by applying Ps 110:4: “Thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedek.”392 In this way, not only was Jesus the supreme agent of God’s salvation but also he was the human agent in all three offices of leadership. S3.1.2.3.2 Apostolic-Era Church After the exaltation of Jesus, the former disciples of Jesus became his apostles, his messengers of the gospel. Soon other leaders were appointed. Every association of people has positions of leadership to be filled regardless of the names used to describe them. The leadership of the churches followed the synagogue model, but just as they chose the name ekklēsia instead of synagōgos to describe their association, they tended to use their own terminology.393 Church organization differed from the synagogue, however, in two important ways. Diaspora communities were well-established and widely recognized by the imperial government, along with privileges and offices of their synagogues. And the Jewish community had its own civic organization, its council ( gerousia) or senate, which governed the entire community in a city, while the synagogue leaders dealt only with their domain. Christians had no such social recognition, and the churches, though modeled on the synagogue, received recognition only so long as they were seen as synagogues or roughly analogous to synagogues. Churches also had to deal with the vitality of charismatic leadership upon which the movement was founded. The church had two types of leader: those who were gifted and therefore accredited to a certain task, and those appointed to fill a specific position associated with a known task. Paul lays out the leadership: “And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, then healers, helpers, administrators, speakers in various kinds of tongues.”394 The apostle, the prophet, and the teacher were among the gifted or charismatic positions in the early church. The helpers and administrators were qualified persons, namely, overseers (bishops), elders (presbyters), and ministers (deacons). The charismatic leaders of the early church are nicely described by Acts 13:1–3: Now in the church at Antioch there were prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon who was called Niger, Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen a member of the court of Herod the ruler, and Saul. While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.

The apostle (apostolos) was similar to the messenger (angelos), and apostles, including Paul, were messengers of the gospel, church founders, missionaries, and then guardians of the faith. The designation of apostle was mission specific, and therefore temporary. Besides the initial twelve sent out by Jesus, of which we know very little, supplemented by Paul’s self-designation, other apostles were sent out as messengers of the churches.395 The records leave hints of the conflicts between the apostles, who bore their own authority and that of the sponsoring church, among the different congregations. Paul calls some “false apostles, deceitful workmen, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ,” which tells us there were disagreements


among the churches and personality conflicts.396 But the apostolic generation came to an end when the apostles and their designates died out. Later emissaries of the churches would function as ambassadors, or agents, not unlike the rabbinic apostoli (Hebrew, sheliakh), under different names. The leadership position of prophet within the early church, like the apostle, yet more so, derived its authority from heaven. Prophecy was prominent during the first decades of the church and part of the fulfillment of the end times. Prophecy was a gift, closely linked with the phenomenon of glossolalia, or speaking in tongues, along with the gift of healing. Paul encouraged the gift of prophecy during his ministry, ranked it second only to apostle in gifts, and exercised it himself; but he had to restrain the tongues for the edification of everyone in the church. And there was always the problem of false prophecy, which became a plague in the postapostolic generations.397 The position of teacher (didaskalos) required a gift as well as an education. They expounded Scripture and helped formulate beliefs in keeping with the traditions received. Paul could say, “For this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher.”398 Among the Jews it may be compared with the scribe, but especially the rabbi. Jesus was the exemplar, having taught in the synagogues. But like the other charismatic positions, it was open to abuse of power, and by its very nature, a door to opposing views. As Matthew warns, “But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brethren.” The need to constrain teachers and conform teaching to what had been received began with Paul and gained structure in the postapostolic generation. Teachers were to be evaluated not only by what they taught but also by what they did. A well-ordered and moral life should produce similar teaching.399 With time, the unbridled authority of the Holy Spirit led to an early church in danger of divine anarchy. It was time for sober-minded administrators to take control. From the start there was a clear distinction between apostles, prophets, and leaders of congregations, or clergy proper. The apostles were pillars of the church, not overseers (bishops), elders (presbyters), or ministers (deacons). The tradition that Peter was the first bishop of Antioch and Rome is a late attempt to appropriate an apostolic authority that bishops never received onto the office of overseer that apostles never assumed. Presumably James, after he vouched for his own vision of the resurrected Jesus, became the head of congregation along the lines of synagogue leader and therefore like a bishop. The members awarded it to him because he was the brother of Jesus, who had been their leader. The authority of the assembly of Jerusalem, led by James, extended over all other house churches in Judaea, and James may have been the equivalent of the ruler of the synagogue (archisynagōgos), correctly translated as president of the synagogue, the one who presides over councils and assembly deliberations. The natural leaders of synagogue or church, or any association, were the elders, presbyters (presbyteroi). Elders were a source of authority, able to ground the present in the past and provide the wisdom that comes from many years. According to Acts, the first congregations that broke from synagogues, or formed alongside them, chose elders to lead.400 Paul, however, never addresses his letters to elders,


and it is often supposed the earliest churches did not appoint elders, and Acts is anachronistic. But Paul does speak of generic leaders who have charge over the congregation, and in the absence of a specific title, this can only refer to elders.401 Every association also requires people in charge of the member’s welfare. The traditional position of deacon (diakonos) was taken from the Hellenistic world, not the synagogue, and referred to one who serves or waits to serve, hence attendants, servants, or ministers, and even statesmen. According to Acts (6:2–3), the twelve apostles appointed seven ministers to take charge of distributing the food to widows, since it did not seem a good use of time for them “to serve tables” (diakonein), but this is not meant to explain the origin of the office of deacon. In any case, the seven promptly became evangelists. In Corinth, the household of Stephanas devoted themselves to the “deacony” (diakonia), that is, the service of the saints, and the one person identified as a deacon by Paul was his sister in the Lord, Phoebe, at Cenchreae. Deacons no doubt controlled the routine service of the churches, including the welfare of its members and provisions for burial.402 The initial function of bishops (episkopoi) was administrative oversight, that is, supervision including patronage and protection. In Greek tradition, the gods may be called episkopoi, and various state officials were overseers or supervisors. Similarly in the Septuagint, God is the episkopos, and the “officers of the host” under Moses were episkopoi.403 The synagogue did not use the title, but the secular function was appropriated by the early church. Paul refers to deacons and bishops, and his use of the term episkopoi in the plural suggests that from among the elders in a church some were appointed as ministers (deacons) and others as overseers or watchmen (bishops).404 Women were not easily distinguished from men among the gifted leaders during the early decades of the church. The Holy Spirit fell upon them and bestowed the spiritual gifts as readily as upon their brothers. Prophecy and tongues were no respecter of persons, and women had a natural endowment in other areas of service. Some women were educated and could teach. Some women were prominent and wealthy widows, others the wives of such men. The social status of a woman transferred smoothly into the early church structure. Women did whatever they could do for the gospel. Prisca, wife of Aquila, was an early leader in the church at Rome, and together they risked their necks for Paul. Junia and her husband Andronicus were “prominent among the apostles” and had been imprisoned with Paul. In his letter to the church in Rome, Paul also mentions Tryphaena and Tryphosa, two women “workers in the Lord,” Julia, Mary, and Phoebe the deacon at Cenchreae. Elsewhere, Claudia is mentioned among the “brother and sisters,” Apphia, Euodia, and Syntyche at Philippi who struggled with Paul in his work of the gospel.405 S3.1.2.3.3 Postapostolic-Era Church There is no doubt that from the earliest circle of disciples around Jesus and well into the first century, women play vital and prominent roles in the early church. Their roles, however, were mostly as pioneers and charismatic leaders or as the patroness of a house church. When the churches began to organize into more stable and widespread networks during the postapostolic generations, they conformed


to the accepted structure of associations. The elders were chosen by the congregation, appointed or elected. The offices of presbyter and bishop were filled almost exclusively by men, whereas the office of deacon was open to women. Pliny (ca. 112) interrogated two women deaconesses. Of necessity, the qualifications for elders, deacons, and overseers were carefully laid out. In time, a head overseer became the bishop. The title was used in conjunction with “shepherd,” and of Christ as the shepherd and episkopos of our souls.406 The churches needed the recognition by imperial government throughout the empire that had long been given to synagogues or that was granted to any authorized association (collegia licita), and the public face had to demonstrate social stability and loyalty. Too many tongue-speaking women in the assemblies did not inspire confidence in social order and may have smacked of subversive cults. The leaders sought to imitate the synagogues rather than the mystery religions. As long as things were done decently and in order, the spiritual gifts of the church ought to be exercised.407 S3.1.2.4 People of God The followers of Jesus took a long and winding road through the landscape of Jewish identity in their walk as the people of God. Initially the question of who they were did not arise. The names that applied to all their people, Hebrew, Jew, and Israel, applied to them without question. They were disciples of Jesus, and then followers of the Way, and perhaps labeled Nazarenes by others, as distinct from Pharisees or Essenes. According to Matthew, Jesus focused his ministry on the “lost sheep of the house of Israel,” but Jesus also associated with Gentiles, and it is hardly conceivable that he thought God did not care about the rest of the earth.408 Luke (10:2) had no hesitation in extending the mission of Jesus to the Gentiles and recorded the commission of “the seventy” disciples as a symbol of this mission. Paul’s revelation of Jesus, as he understood it, was given precisely so that he would take the gospel to all the earth, and therefore he became the “apostle to the Gentiles.”409 The influx of Gentiles into the people of God required a clarification of the designators Jew, Hebrew, and Israel. The term “Jew” predominantly spoke to an ethnic and geographical identity and set the Jews apart from the Gentiles. The name Hebrew was rarely used but kept its hoary ties to antiquity. “Israel” retained the strong spiritual connotations of the people devoted to God. Paul naturally identified himself as an ethnic Jew, but he accepted the ethnicreligious understanding that was prominent in the Diaspora and went one step further by extending the metaphor of circumcision of the heart to a description of the Jew in spiritual terms. Writing to a congregation of Jews and Gentiles, he said: For a person is not a Jew who is one outwardly, nor is true circumcision something external and physical. Rather, a person is a Jew who is one inwardly, and real circumcision is a matter of the heart—it is spiritual and not literal.410

If they must, Gentiles may think of themselves as Jews in the spiritual sense, but Paul prefers that the distinctions melt away; there is neither Jew nor Greek.411 The


absence of a distinction between Jew and Gentile flows naturally to his use of Israel, which resembles that of Philo: those who attended to God, who were listening to God and seeing God. Paul closes his letter to the Galatians, after making his case that the Gentile believers are the spiritual heirs of Abraham, by saying: For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything! As for those who will follow this rule—peace be upon them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God.412

The phrase “Israel of God” could refer to Jews who agree with him, or the Gentiles who have entered the covenant, or it might be the self-designation of those Jewish believers who are his opponents. But the context prefers that Paul is speaking of both Jews and Gentiles who are part of the new creation.413 Paul also speaks of “Israel after the flesh,” of which he is a part, since it refers to his ancestors, especially the generation of Moses.414 Paul’s most extensive use of Israel is in his discussion of Rom 9–11. Here Paul again identifies himself with the Israelites, his brothers, his kin; but as with his view of Jews, “not all Israelites truly belong to Israel.” Israel has always been more than kinship; it is the response to the activity of God. Israel has been reduced to a remnant in the past.415 As then, so now. Some of Israel have believed in Christ, of which he is a part, but not all. For Paul, Israel is, and will always be, the people of God, and it is a matter of choice who will be included in Israel. It is also conceivable that Josephus may also have had Christians of Rome in mind when he interprets Jacob’s prevailing over the phantom at Jabbok to mean that the race of Jews would never cease; for it appears some Christians were saying the Jews were no longer Israel, against which Paul also reacted in his letter to the church in Rome.416 The identity of the “Jew” among the authors of the rest of the New Testament varies from an ethnic attachment to the Jewish people of history and the land of Judaea to a designation as opponents of Jesus and therefore of God. The John of Revelation accuses certain people in Smyrna and Philadelphia of being “those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan.”417 In keeping with the overall view of the apocalypse, this is a positive use of the label Jew, and the criticism likely refers to Jewish people who have denounced Jewish believers and are therefore not acting as Jews ought to act. “Israel” in the Gospels and the few other occurrences is the biblical people of God, all who are united with them, either in belief or unbelief, and the land in which they dwell. The main difference from Paul’s use is that in the Gospels, Israel of the flesh is seen more negatively. Mark contrasts Israel with one reference in the Shema, “Hear, O Israel,” and a second is in the mouths of the mocking chief priests, “Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.”418 Israel is the messianic community.419 Matthew refers to Israel as the people of God, as part of the biblical tradition in the fulfillment of prophecy, and in contrast to the Gentiles.420 Israel includes both those who accept and those who reject Jesus. The Gospel of John, in the first chapter, may be aware of the etymology “one who sees God” for Israel. John insists that no one has seen God, but the Word (Logos), who was God, became flesh. It was Nathaniel, a true “Israelite,” who


recognized Jesus as the Son of God and king of Israel; to which Jesus replied, “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” The response of Jesus alluded to Jacob’s dream of angels descending and ascending on a ladder to heaven, at the place he then named Bethel. John appears to imply that Jesus is, as the Son of Man, the embodiment of Israel, and as the Word (Logos), the point of contact between heaven and earth. If so, he draws on Jewish traditions familiar to Jubilees and Philo.421 The panoramic eschatology of the book of Revelation uses Israel for the people of God through all time, symbolized by the twelve tribes, sealed in the 144,000, whose names are inscribed on the twelve gates of the new Jerusalem, and the twelve apostles, whose names are on the twelve foundations of the new Jerusalem. Around the same time, Clement of Rome (ca. 95) writing from the church of Rome to the church of Corinth, assumed both churches were the heirs of ancient Israel, God’s people. Echoing Paul, he notes that from Abraham came the twelve tribes, and from them came the ministers of God, the kings, and the Lord Jesus according to the flesh, and all who are called in Christ Jesus.422 By contrast to Clement, the author of the Epistle of Barnabas, writing around the time of the Bar Kokhba revolt, separates those called Israel, who are the Jews both in the biblical past and present, from “us” (Christians, without using the name). Some things written in Scripture “concern Israel; others concern us.” God has rejected “the city, the temple, and the people of Israel,” and now dwells in the temple of his new people.423 The identity of “Hebrew” remained for Jewish believers what it was for Jews, a hoary honorific of a traditional member of the descendants of Abraham, loyal to the covenant people. Whoever appended the title “Epistle to the Hebrews” to the existing work thought it appropriate to the content: “Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets.” Paul claims he is a “Hebrew of the Hebrews” because he was accused of being an innovator in the faith of his heritage, though he believed he was keeping the faith of his heritage. Gentile Christians do not appear to have appropriated the identity “Hebrew” at this stage. The author of the epistle to the Hebrews (8:8–13) also appropriated the “new covenant” of Jeremiah for the followers of Jesus. After quoting Jer 31:31–34, he says, “In speaking of a new covenant he treats the first as obsolete. And what is becoming obsolete and growing old is ready to vanish away.” While this passage has been correctly described as supersession, the belief that the Mosaic covenant had been superseded by Christ, it was hardly a break from Jewish roots; rather, a claim that Jeremiah’s prophecy had been fulfilled and a new covenant established. Jesus may have already done that if the tradition Paul received goes back to Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”424 The epithet “Christians” (Christianoi) is obscure but probably of Latin origin. The ending -ianus was applied to Christus, meaning adherents or devotees of Christ. If so, and Luke is correct that the disciples were first called Christianoi in Antioch, the name may have been coined by city officials in Antioch as a useful way to distinguish followers of the Christ from followers of the many other mystery cults and from the Jews, or it may have been a satirical designation, “Christ-lackeys,” by


fellow Gentiles, not unlike Jesus Freaks. Paul never used the name Christian, and outside the two references in Acts (11:26; 26:28), it occurs in the New Testament only in 1 Peter, which is probably to be dated after the death of Paul—and even then it is merely a name for which people suffered: “if one suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed.”425 As we noted, the first occurrence of anyone calling themselves a Christian with pride is Ignatius, bishop of Antioch (ca. 107–108), though even here it is strongly associated with suffering and martyrdom. He is also the first to use the noun Christianity (christianismos).426 The Didache (12.4) refers to a visitor who identifies himself as a Christian and should be welcomed for two or three days and thereafter given a place to work, or if he prefers idleness, then he is “trading on Christ,” and the community should beware of him. The earliest non-Christian reference comes from Josephus, writing at Rome in the last decade of the century (ca. 95). After mentioning Jesus, Josephus acknowledges “the tribe of Christians, so called after him, has still to this day not disappeared.”427 The choice of tribe (phylon) to describe the Christians, rather than the sect or school (hairesis), which he applied to the Pharisees and Essenes, may be due to the expansion of Christians into the Diaspora and inclusion of Greeks among the followers. Josephus can use the word for the locusts of the plagues in Egypt, but also of the Parthians and Egyptians, and elsewhere he identifies the Jews as a phylon and quotes Strabo, who refers to the phylon of Jews spread across the habitable earth.428 The word suggests a tightly integrated identity distinct from other identifiable social groups. The Jews of Rome would have been the people most aware of the Christians at this time, though we don’t know whether the Christians were considered outside the Jewish commonwealth by the Jews, let alone Roman officials, or another radical sect within the Jewish commonwealth. Nero’s awareness of Christians, whatever it was, may have been due to his wife Poppaea Sabina (married in 62, died in 65), who was a God-fearer (theosebēs) and sympathetic to the Jewish community.429 Seneca, according to his famous statement, preserved by Augustine, despised the Jews: “Meanwhile the customs of this accursed race have gained such influence that they are now received throughout all the world. The vanquished have given laws to their victors.” He may have encouraged Nero to put Jews in their place by burning a few of their more obnoxious members, but the sentiment attributed to him by Augustine, that “Christians were already most inimical to the Jews,” cannot be taken as evidence of his views or even an awareness of the name Christian.430 In short, we cannot confirm that Roman officials considered the followers of Jesus to be distinct from the Jewish community as early as 64, but by 95, Josephus could expect his readers in Rome to recognize the name Christian. A decade later, Ignatius glories in the martyrdom of the Christian name, and there is a purge of Christians in Asia Minor. On the problem of intermarriage between believers and unbelievers, Paul appeals to the idea of holy seed from Ezra but interpreted holy seed as holy flesh, and the new people to which marriage is restricted is the people of faith. Those who enter into the community of the saints with a nonbelieving spouse may preserve the marriage, for the one sanctifies the other, but no saint should be mismatched


to an unbeliever. Paul agreed with the early sages that conversion transforms the outsider into an insider.431 Eventually, all Christians were identified as a universal people of God despite the rejection of some as false or apostate and outside the fold. The word church (ekklēsia) initially referred to a single congregation, but came to mean all Christians everywhere. The sense of a church universal is found in the Pauline tradition letters of Colossians and Ephesians linked to the “body of Christ,” and to some extent in Matthew’s Jesus tradition statement “I will build my church.” By the second century Ignatius applies the term “catholic” (katholikos) to the church, “wherever Jesus Christ is, there also is the universal (catholic) church,” and in so doing, he follows Philo who spoke of all Jews as a universal (katholikos) polity or corporate body.432 S3.1.2.5 Land of Israel Paul no doubt reflected most early followers of Jesus in holding the land of Palestine as elevated above all other lands and Jerusalem as the Holy City. For most Jews, including Jewish followers of Jesus, Palestine remained the motherland, as Philo depicted it. Paul’s effort to take an offering up to Jerusalem for the mother church was his long labor of love, so that the Gentiles in a sense paid a tithe to God. But beyond that, there is no indication that Jerusalem, or the land, was holy because that was where Jesus walked. Such nostalgia will require three more centuries. For Paul, the temple is the congregation of believers and the presence of God among them, a view similar to that of the Essenes and the Qumran community. The promise God gave to Abraham, which became the promised land, is for Paul God’s promise to inherit the world. Hebrews describes the present people of God, like the saints of old, as wayfaring strangers and exiles seeking a homeland in a better country, en route to the heavenly Jerusalem. In the Gospel of John, the temple is replaced with the body of Jesus, and it is he who gives the water of life, not Jacob’s well.433

S3.2 Jews and Christians, and Jewish Believers One of the most important results of 200 years of modern research into Jesus is that he belongs to two religions: to Judaism, to which he was attached with all his heart, and to Christianity, whose central point of reference he became after his death—on the basis of interpretations of his person which his Jewish followers gave.434

What may be said in hindsight of Jesus may be said of his first apostles. At this point, however, the two religions did not exist in distinction. The followers of Jesus were Jews devoted to the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth. The historical conflict between Jews and Christians began in the hearts and minds of these Jews, such as Peter, James, and Paul. As we have seen, the name Christian is likely a Gentile invention for purposes of distinguishing one group of Jews from another, and although it


was eventually accepted by a dominant Gentile church, it cannot be imputed to the Jewish disciples of Jesus.

S3.2.1 Paul the Jew Initially, Paul engaged the Nazarenes by persecuting the followers of Jesus. After his revelation, he had to defend his loyalty to his Jewish identity against the charge of apostasy at the same time he defended his apostolic authority to proclaim Christ crucified. He fought a battle on two fronts and against many opponents. Scholars of the New Testament debate the self-understanding of Paul as well as that of Jesus. Was Paul a Christian, or a Jew, or a Jewish Christian, or Christian Jew? Did Paul reject his Judaism, like shaking dung off his finger? Should Paul’s transformation be called a conversion to Christianity? Or should Paul’s transformation be called an enlightenment to the true nature of Judaism? For some, the experience of Paul on the road to Damascus fits the definition of a conversion, in this case from Judaism to nascent Christianity. For others, to call Paul a convert to Christianity is the Christian way of jerking Paul over to their side and the Jewish way of getting rid of their annoying apostate. On this, at least, most Jews and Christians have traditionally agreed, and the chapter heading in most English Bible versions for Acts 9 is “Paul’s Conversion.” But the sum of Paul’s own statements confirm his Jewish identity and that his revelation of Jesus was a prophetic call likened to that of Jeremiah, who was no convert. Paul’s gospel to the Gentiles was the fulfillment of his Jewish heritage; the new covenant. His life made sense only within the continuum of Israel. Like many Jews, he trumpets his heritage. Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I. I myself am an Israelite, a descendant of Abraham, a member of the tribe of Benjamin; circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors. But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being.435

Paul no more thought of himself as a convert out of his Jewishness or his Judaism than he would have been if, as a Pharisee, he had received a vision of the Teacher of Righteousness and suddenly realized the Qumran Covenanters were, after all, true Israel—and then joined them. The only thing Paul appears to have rejected of his past was the sufficiency of the law for his reconciliation to God, and the acceptance of Gentiles into a covenant with God.436 The death, resurrection, and exaltation of Jesus was God’s new and final means of reconciling the world to himself. In this, at least, the New Perspective on Paul is correct.437 The laws that had set Jews as a people apart were no longer necessary, and certainly not applicable to Gentiles. The freedom he had in Christ meant he could go either way. He could be an obvious Jew or an obvious Gentile. The outward distinctions were irrelevant.


The customs that set Jews apart from the Gentiles were, in Paul’s view, passé. If Acts is accepted, Paul decided to have Timothy, born of a Jewish mother and a Gentile father, circumcised so as not to affront the Jews unnecessarily.438 Paul could gorge himself on meat offered to idols (which were not really gods), but if it caused a weaker brother to falter in the faith, he would become a vegan. He was an erratic but driven Jew. When Paul came, late in life, to deal with the plight of his people who had, by and large, rejected the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Jewish Messiah, he bared his soul. I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my own people, my kindred according to the flesh. They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, comes the Messiah, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.439

The central problem for Paul is whether or not the covenant between God and Israel has failed, and therefore God has failed. Paul responds: God may choose whomever he wants for his service. After all, not all descendants of Abraham are Israelites. Isaac was the child of promise (not Ishmael), and God chose Jacob, not Esau, to fulfill the promise. He cites Hosea (2:23; 1:10): “Those who are not my people I will call ‘my people’ ” to explain how God has now turned to the Gentiles as his people. Paul hopes that by his own work among the Gentiles, God will make his people, the Jews, jealous, and they will then return to God. But no matter, God cannot be thwarted, and God has not annulled his covenant with Israel. He gives the analogy of the olive tree. Some natural branches (Jews) have been pruned away and wild branches (Gentiles) grafted in. But it is not the wild branches that support the roots; rather, the roots support the wild branches, and God will one day graft in the natural branches, so that Jews and Gentiles will be saved. When will this occur? Here, Paul admits, lies a mystery: a hardening has come upon part of Israel, until the full number of the Gentiles has come in. And so all Israel will be saved; as it is written, Out of Zion will come the Deliverer; he will banish ungodliness from Jacob. And this is my covenant with them, when I take away their sins.440

The final sentence appears to be a paraphrase of the new covenant promise in Jeremiah 31:33. The full number of Gentiles is perhaps a figure known to God, for Paul assumes God knows. But by “all Israel” Paul almost certainly means all Jews as a people, not all “spiritual Israel” or all “the elect remnant of Israel,” as the similar statement in early rabbinic tradition states: “All Israelites have a share in the world to come.” He ends the deliberation triumphantly, therefore, with the conviction that all Israel will be saved, just as he said in his letter to the Corinthians, “that God may be all in all.”441 Paul’s goal was continuity with his roots, for only in continuity is the sovereignty of God, the ultimate victory of God, sustained. Though Paul could not see that victory round about him, he saw it through the mind’s eye of faith. The new


covenant was the renewed covenant, available to all Israel, be they Jew or Gentile. The fact that Paul was considered an apostate by his former Jewish colleagues does not mean he accepted their verdict. The aspect of Judaism he rejected was the particularism of the past that was no longer relevant in the new covenant.

S3.2.2 Matthew’s Sectarian Jewish Community Among the champions of Peter and James, we may place the author of the anonymous Gospel of Matthew, generally referred to as the Evangelist, or Matthew, without a claim that he was the disciple of Jesus, though he may well have been. A standard assumption is that the author had an audience and a support group; that is, Matthew was a member, or leader, of a community of Jews congregated around their belief that Jesus was God’s Messiah. With the caveat that the historical setting of any Gospel is a scholarly hypothesis, the community behind the Gospel of Matthew may serve as a model for the early church that sprang from Jewish followers of Jesus.442 The hypothetical community is placed either in Palestine, in a city such as Caesarea, Sepphoris, or Tiberias, or further north, probably Antioch. All locations are feasible and argued by scholars, but Antioch has been favored and carries the strongest historical support. The vast majority of the residents of Antioch were Gentiles who primarily saw themselves as Antiochenes within the Roman Empire and hardly thought of themselves as Gentiles in contrast to Jews. The Jews probably constituted 10 percent or better of the Antiochene residents, since their numbers were higher in the major cities than throughout the empire, but even the Jewish community cannot be seen as monolithic, for they were made up of Hellenists and traditionalists. Some of the Hellenist Jews had abandoned some or all of the customs of their people, as did many in Alexandria, and saw themselves as apostates. Among the traditionalists, some may have been Pharisees or followed the teachings of the Pharisees. The majority were somewhere between the extremes. The identity and solidarity of the Jews was their ethnic origin, and common customs shared by most, and the holy days, shared by almost all. It was here that Hellenist Jews, foreigners from outside Antioch, began a new but very small association made up of Jews and Gentiles. Paul had instructed these believers early on, and the Jews involved had no difficulty eating together. But some traditionalist Jews in Antioch no doubt frowned upon this group, just as they frowned on all extreme Hellenist Jews. If Matthew and his people were the Jewish believers in Antioch from the early days of Paul and Barnabas, then by the time the Gospel was written, they had a generation of history behind them, from 40 to about 80. The older generation remembered the clash between Paul and Peter over table fellowship between Jews and Gentiles, and the humiliation of Peter. This clash of the pillars began the estrangement among believers in Antioch. Paul had accused Peter and others of requiring Gentiles to judaize, to live like Jews. Paul had not said that those believers who were Jews should no longer live like Jews, though he was willing to abandon the ethnic marker laws in order to further his gospel, but he rejected the move to have Gentiles judaize.


According to the chronology adopted earlier, when the delegation from Jerusalem came to Antioch, the Jewish believers in Antioch no longer shared meals with the Gentile believers, until the matter was settled at the council in Jerusalem. Thereafter, if the Gentiles abstained from meat offered to idols, or strangled, and from blood, table fellowship was permitted.443 Regardless of how the council of Jerusalem or the relationship between Paul and Peter played itself out, the social dynamics of Antioch were never governed by these few individuals. The Jewish believers had a choice whether to remain loyal to their brethren in the Lord guided by Paul’s gospel or to their ethnic group. Acts does not indicate what happened, but it is likely some individuals went either way depending on their circumstances and social pressure. This meant a division among the followers of Jesus. One group contained Gentiles and Jews willing to suffer the social exclusion from the majority of the Jewish community. The other group contained only ethnic Jews and any Gentiles who chose to fully convert to being Jews. Peter may have been the leader of this group for a while, which gave rise to the later claim that he was the first bishop of Antioch. It is thought this more exclusive group became the community of the Gospel of Matthew. This supposition works as a model for the other groups of Jewish believers in Jesus who nevertheless felt the covenant laws remained in force. Such groups dogged Paul all his life. There is considerable scholarly disagreement over whether the community of Matthew should be seen as basically Christian, defining itself against Pauline churches but within Christianity, or basically Jewish, defining itself against Antiochene Jews but within Judaism. It need not be so starkly either/or, but if a side must be taken, it seems that Matthew is more firmly rooted in the Jewish community than among Gentiles. The way the arguments between Jesus and the Pharisees are tailored in the Gospel of Matthew seems to be an in-house Jewish debate over how to observe the law, whether against Hellenist Jews or traditionalists. That may be precisely what went on during the ministry of Jesus, but the tone and intensity by which Matthew retells it reflects a current struggle within the Jewish community, not a defense of Christianity from outside the Jewish community. The Matthean group saw themselves as Jews who were loyal to Moses and to Jesus. As the years passed, the Matthean community solidified its self-understanding as a branch of Judaism. Some of the members may have worshiped in the synagogues on the sabbath and met with their own on the first day of the week. Or, the Mattheans worshiped only on the sabbath in their own way. Because they identified with the Jewish population of Antioch, their primary mission was to the Jews. But, as followers of Jesus, they also defined themselves against the Gentile-Jewish congregation, or in some sense, against the Pauline “law-free” gospel.444 All followers of Jesus appealed to Jesus as their authority, but invariably through the mediation of an apostle. The Corinthian church broke into factions favoring Peter, Apollos, and Paul. The Matthean community favored Peter, and this claim to authority is seen in the way Matthew used the tradition of Peter’s confession to establish Peter as the true leader of the church:

Jews and Christians I 317 He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”445

Only in Matthew does Jesus declare his “church,” and only here is Peter given supreme authority over it. Whatever else Matthew intends by this addition to Peter’s confession, it certainly opposes other apostolic leaders, including, or foremost, Paul. The fact that Jesus speaks of the church (ekklēsia), however, aligns the community with other believers in Jesus, for whom “church” had become the common name for their association, in contrast to the synagogue or the house of prayer (prostheuche) among the Jews. The “keys of the kingdom of heaven” is the power to determine who is in and who is out, and the phrase “binding and loosing” normally refers to conduct, not beliefs. The authority of Peter is as much against the Jewish leaders, the Pharisees, as against Paul or other leaders. Matthew grants Peter the office of primary interpreter of the traditions of Jesus. Were it not for the command of Jesus that none of them should be called rabbi, it might be said that Peter was the chief rabbi.446 In 66, while Vespasian was in Syria preparing for the war in Judaea, a Jew of Antioch, son of the chief magistrate of the Jewish community and Antiochus by name, accused some Jews, including his father and visitors from outside Antioch, of plotting to burn down the city. The enraged Gentile Antiochenes demanded these men be immediately burned alive, and they were. Antiochus then publically sacrificed to the Greek gods in order to demonstrate his renunciation of all things Jewish and urged that all Jews should be compelled to do the same in order to expose any conspirators. Josephus tells us some Jews did sacrifice, and a few who refused were executed, though it is not possible all the Jews of Antioch were put to the test. In some inexplicable rage, Antiochus used Roman troops to force Jews to work on the sabbath, and this wave of persecution briefly spread to other cities in Syria. The latent antipathy that Gentiles held against the Jews was exacerbated and exposed during the preparations for war because war was expensive, and the Syrians were required to help fund it. Most Jews of Syria were likely against the Zealot uprising but may have sympathized with the plight of their people in Palestine. Extended families had members in both places. Loyalties were divided. After the war, in 70, a fire did break out in Antioch and destroyed the marketplace and a number of public buildings. Again the Jews were accused and the Gentile Antiochenes sought revenge, but order was restored. After an investigation, the Jews were found innocent, and the charge was laid upon a group of debtors who hoped to escape their debts by burning the public records. When Titus finally reached Antioch after his victory in Judaea, the Gentiles petitioned him to remove the Jews from their city. Titus refused their request, as well as a second petition to rescind the privileges given by Caesar. He did, however, destroy the synagogue at Daphne


and built a new theater with a marble statue of himself, which may have tempered the Gentile wrath.447 The turmoil in Antioch during the war in Judaea affected the Jewish believers as well. It was a time when identity became an ordeal by fire. Christian Gentiles would have declared their distinction from the Jews, while the Jews of Matthew’s community had to choose. The divided loyalties of the Jewish community were even more complex for the Matthean group. They probably saw divine judgment falling on Jerusalem because of the death of Jesus. At this time, the end times and return of Jesus must have seemed very near, and the Jewish believers may have intensified their mission to the Jewish community: “this generation will not pass away till all these things take place.” During and after the war, refugees flowed out of Palestine and into Antioch. Some of the refugees were Pharisees, and they, like Paul before his revelation, brought their own antipathy against the deviant Jewish believers. The social situation of Antioch during the decade after the war was rife with anger and accusations among Gentiles and Jews that makes a vivid background for much of the polemic unique to the Gospel of Matthew. The way in which the Matthean community interpreted the laws of Moses, based on their understanding of the teachings of Jesus, led to the charge that they had abandoned some of them. The disputes between Jesus and his contemporaries over sabbath observance or ritual purity are prime candidates for continued disputation among the Jews at Antioch. The charge of abandoning the laws might also stem from association with the Gentile-Jewish congregations. In response to the charge, Matthew formulated (or incorporated an independent tradition) the clear statement: Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly, I say to you, till heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Whoever then relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but he who does them and teaches them shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. (5:17–19)

The point at which the laws of Moses will no longer be relevant is when God makes all things new, after the coming of the Messiah. Jesus may have said this during his ministry, but it makes sense only in response to the charge that he had come to abolish the law and the prophets, and this fits the early church better than the life of Jesus. In many respects the debates over the law between the Matthean Jewish believers and the rest of the Jewish community reflect the ministry of Jesus, and it is difficult to know which points are especially relevant, but when Matthew changes a tradition found in Mark or adds one found nowhere else, it likely speaks to current events. The famous Matt 23, the polemic against the Pharisees, has some parallels with Luke, but here Jesus makes several unique statements. “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; so practice and observe whatever they tell you, but not what they do; for they preach, but do not practice.” This assumes the Pharisees are active and respected. Pharisees may well have retained influence in Antioch after


the war. Matthew’s point is that they do not practice what they preach; therefore the community should not follow them but follow Jesus for a guide to living. The laws of Moses clearly remain in force. “They do all their deeds to be seen by men; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues, and salutations in the market places, and being called rabbi by men. But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all brethren.” Pride of place is a common human trait. But Jesus taught modesty. The men of the Matthean community should use regular phylacteries and mediumlength fringes; but they were to be worn. In contrast to the honorific title “Rabbi” given to masters of Torah, the scholars within Matthew’s sphere were to reject such honor, for they were all disciples of Jesus. “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you traverse sea and land to make a single proselyte, and when he becomes a proselyte, you make him twice as much a child of hell [Gehenna] as yourselves.” The chapter delivers seven woes to the scribes and Pharisees, variations on the theme of hypocrisy and emphasis on the minutia of the law, like straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel. There are parallels in Luke, so some or all of this may go back to Jesus, but the combination is the work of Matthew and presumes a meaningful setting for his composition. This, the second woe, is unique to Matthew and seems to acknowledge a competition between the Jewish communities for converts among the Gentiles. Although this is primary evidence for the Jewish mission, the passage is no longer thought to establish Judaism as a missionary religion akin to the work of Paul as it once was interpreted. Evidence elsewhere is more in line with the welcome of Philo and Josephus to all who wish to join the Jews in their way of life, but there are no other examples of Pharisees like Paul, who traversed land and sea. That does not mean there were none, but most of the Jewish mission was done unobtrusively, by merchants or migration. The entire chapter against the scribes and Pharisees expresses a righteous indignation similar to what is found in some of the Qumran literature, or the “brood of vipers” of John the Baptist, or Paul’s cursing of Jew or Gentile who preaches a different gospel than his, or his wish that the circumcision party might slip and castrate themselves. We may assume some Pharisees of Antioch were also capable of trenchant language and spoke out against the Matthean community sufficiently to justify the statement: “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.”448 The conflict over identity was not for the weak of spine. The sociological rule that conflict is most heated when confined within the family no doubt applies. At stake was true Jewishness, and all were affected by it. The indignation is not the sort that either side would hurl at barbarians from Gaul. If there were known Pharisees in Antioch (or wherever the community lived), as there probably were, then the woes had a specific target; otherwise they serve as a metaphor for the Jewish leaders who are against the Jews of the Jesus movement. Narrowing it down to Pharisees does alter the nature of relations between the different Jewish groups. In the postwar generation, the lingering Pharisees were not only


confronting the Matthean group; they were also annoying some of the sages. Rabbi Joshua b. Hananiah, the disciple of Johanan b. Zakkai, is reputed to have lamented that the “wounds of the Pharisees (perushim)” wear out the world. Whether Joshua means specifically lingering adherents to the old Pharisee group, or merely Jews who sow factionalism, is debated, but the comment is preserved in the context of hypocrisy. A later rabbinic tradition, widely distributed, describes seven categories of Pharisee, of which only two are to be emulated, namely, the Pharisee who fears God like Job, and the Pharisee who loves God like Abraham. The others are deprecated with obscure nicknames, variously explained: the “shoulder” Pharisee who packs his good works on his shoulder to be visible to all; the “wait-a-bit” Pharisee who interrupts business with others to go do a good deed; the “reckoning” Pharisee who balances his faults with good deeds; the “pestle” Pharisee who goes about, head down, like a pestle and mortar (to avoid seeing women); and the “show me” Pharisee, who asks that his faults be pointed out (implying that he has none).449 At any rate, hypocrites fare poorly in rabbinic and gospel tradition alike. The Jewish believers of Antioch struggled for their place within the realm of the Jewish people of God, within Judaism. In this way, they preserved an unbroken lineage back to Jesus, and they believed they were the model of what Jesus envisaged. The covenant people of God, as they understood it, was to be a renewed Judaism based on the commandments of Jesus and his interpretation of Mosaic law. It is not too difficult to understand their passion and point of view. They found themselves between two larger movements, the Jews and the Christian Gentiles, rejected to some extent by both. At some point, probably after the war, the Jewish believers of Matthew’s community broke from their nest among the Jews of Antioch and became a separated group that may have retained the designation Nazorean (or Nazarene) in contrast to the Christians in Antioch. It is only Matthew’s Gospel that says, “There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, ‘He will be called a Nazorean (Nazōraios).’ ”450 While the etymology of Matthew is unclear, the purpose is to link Jesus with the name of his followers, and this designation notsrim became the standard name for all believers in Jesus in the East and continues in Hebrew to this day. After the Gospel of Matthew was written, the Nazorean community probably became an excluded minority, in some sort of uneasy relationship to the dominant Gentile Christian church, which was soon led by the powerful figure of Ignatius.

S3.2.3 Ignatius and the “Judaizers” During the reign of Trajan (96–117), the identity of the followers of Jesus in Syria and western Asia Minor remained fluid. Some were Jewish believers, and many Gentile Christians found belief in Jesus Christ and a Jewish lifestyle to be an attractive combination. Ignatius knew of both Jews and Gentiles in Smyrna who were faithful to the one body of the church.451 But in Magnesia and Philadelphia, the variety is more contentious. Ignatius warned his audience in Magnesia:

Jews and Christians I 321 Since we are his disciples, let us learn to live according to Christianity. For whoever is called by a name other than his does not belong to God . . . It is outlandish to proclaim Jesus Christ and practice Judaism (ioudaïzein). For Christianity did not believe in Judaism, but Judaism in Christianity—in which every tongue that believes in God has been gathered together.452

The concern of Ignatius stemmed, no doubt, from his experience in Antioch, where Jewish believers, perhaps the Matthean church, saw themselves as true followers of Jesus who kept the law of Moses. In Magnesia, they may have been Jews who entered the Christian church and brought their traditions with them or Gentiles convinced by fellow believers that living like Jews is the proper way for followers of Jesus to live. The other name these believers use is not given, but it might have been Nazoreans (Nazarenes). Ignatius thought they should accept the name Christian, as he did, and try to be worthy of it. Ignatius was well acquainted with Paul’s theology, and perhaps his letters. Like Paul, he thought these believers who affirmed Jesus Christ yet lived like Jews undermined the efficacy of the death of Christ. Ignatius is the first author after Paul to employ the verb “to judaize.” Although he did not elaborate on how they lived like Jews, they apparently kept the sabbath, and Ignatius argued they should keep the Lord’s day. These Judaizers held separate meetings, and although they acknowledged the bishop, they did not obey him in all matters. The situation in the church in Philadelphia was more complicated. While visiting the church on his journey, some members said to Ignatius, “If I do not find it in the ancient records (Scriptures), I do not believe in the gospel.” When Ignatius quoted proof-text passages with the words “It is written,” they replied, “That is just the question.”453 Some members of the community were challenging the supposed scriptural basis for Christian doctrines held by Ignatius and widely accepted. Later, writing to the Philadelphian church from Troas, Ignatius said, “But for me, Jesus Christ is the ancient records; the sacred ancient records are his cross and death, and his resurrection, and the faith that comes through him.” According to Ignatius, the Hebrew Scriptures must be interpreted in light of the mission of Jesus, admitting that proof texts are evidence for believers, not proof to unbelievers. Ignatius counseled the church: But if anyone should interpret Judaism to you, do not hear him. For it is better to hear Christianity from a man who is circumcised than Judaism from one who is uncircumcised. But if neither one speaks about Jesus Christ, they both appear to me as monuments and tombs of the dead.454

The precise nature of the “circumcised” who teach Christianity, and “uncircumcised” who teach Judaism is not obvious. It appears that Ignatius prefers Jewish believers who keep their customs yet profess Christian doctrines acceptable to him, to Gentile Christians who undermine the faith by arguing against sound doctrine and promote Jewish interpretations over Christian ones, or give higher authority to “Old Testament” teachings than the gospels or Paul’s letters. Or the two types are metaphorical for two types of Gentile Christians, two groups with the church of Philadelphia. But in the end, for Ignatius, pure Christianity is better than impure


Christianity or Judaism, no matter who is expounding it. The message is more important than the messenger.455

S3.3 Sabbath and Sunday The origin of Sunday worship, as far as the meager sources permit, was a matter of evolution, not apostolic decision. Like so many origins, it is shrouded in obscurity but rests on a logical association with the day of resurrection, the first day of the week. There is no evidence in the New Testament that Sunday replaced the sabbath, was an established day for worship, involved coming together for the Lord’s supper, or commemorated the resurrection. But in the postapostolic age of the early second century (ca. 100–115), the author of a guide to liturgy could state, “On the Lord’s own day gather together and break bread and give thanks, having first confessed your sins so that your sacrifice may be pure.”456 The question remains whether Sunday arose as a day of worship and rest in place of the Jewish sabbath or as a day of worship in addition to the sabbath rest. It appears that Jewish believers added Sunday worship to their sabbath rest, while some Gentile Christians may have replaced the idea of the sabbath worship with Sunday worship, but even so, there is no evidence they observed Sunday as a day of rest, which would have been very difficult in the Greco-Roman working world. The hypothesis of origins supposes that at some point followers of Jesus began to meet together after the sabbath, Saturday evening, although the often cited Acts 20:7 is hardly evidence for established practice. If the practice of gathering together at the close of the sabbath began in Palestine, therefore, on the first day of the week, a reasonable scenario is that after the congregation in Jerusalem kept the sabbath in synagogues, they retired to their homes at the end of the sabbath, Saturday evening, to foster their own beliefs and worship. Meeting again Sunday morning was both convenient and associated with the resurrection event that gave them an identity distinct from their society, family, and friends. As the practice spread among the churches, the Roman reckoning of the day from morning to evening among the Gentiles shifted Christian worship to Sunday, morning and evenings, before and after the day’s labor. At least by 95, the first day became known as the Lord’s Day, possibly by analogy to the Lord’s Supper conveniently celebrated on that day.457 By the time of Pliny the Younger (ca. 112), Christians were meeting on a set day of the week in the early morning to “recite by turns a form of words to Christ as a god” and assembled again in the evening for a meal.458 Pliny, however, does not specify which day of the week Christians met, and the very expression “on a set day” may suggest Christians chose different days each week in order to avoid notice; that is, “Next week we meet at Simon’s on Thursday.” But, if possible, Sunday was the preferred Lord’s Day. By the middle of the second century, Justin Martyr described Sunday as the day on which all Christians met. Although Justin describes the basic service with which he was familiar, we cannot assume all Christians did precisely what he claims, since it is questionable that he knew what Christians in Syria, Egypt, or Gaul did on Sunday.

Jews and Christians I 323 And on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and . . . when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability, and the people assent, saying Amen.459

According to this origin, the initial meeting together on the Lord’s Day had nothing to do with the sabbath. A believer either kept the sabbath rest, as Jews observed it, or not. Paul left it a matter of conscience, though he seems to have kept the feasts, remaining in Philippi for the days of unleavened bread and hastening to Jerusalem for Shavuot.460 Paul no doubt kept the sabbath as best he could, which often meant attending a synagogue where he preached his gospel. By the time of Ignatius, the sabbath was the leading symbol of all things Jewish, against which much of the Gentile church was still attempting to disassociate itself in order to forge its own identity. Ignatius lumped sabbath observance, “sabbatizing,” with other judaizing tendencies: those who had lived in antiquated practices came to newness of hope, no longer keeping the sabbath (sabbatizing) but living in accordance with the Lord’s day, on which our life also arose through him and his death (which some deny), the mystery through which we came to believe . . .461

Those who did keep the sabbath were apparently in competition with his celebration of the Eucharist on Sunday. Ignatius made, or confirmed, the resurrection of Jesus to be the centerpiece of the Christian day of worship, inasmuch as it is the foundation of the faith. Although Ignatius was not arguing for Sunday instead of the sabbath, he expressed the need for a clean break to avoid confusion between those who follow Christ and those who do not. In the daily life of the times, the human factor produced a variety of views. Some Jewish believers both kept the sabbath and insisted all believers do the same, which in due course led to Sabbatarian sects who required strict observance of sabbath for salvation.462 Other Jewish believers kept the sabbath but left it a matter of choice on how one observed the abstinence from work. Some Gentiles chose to keep the sabbath, and with it a variety of judaizing features, which brought forth the ire of Ignatius and other bishops charged with overseeing the flocks. Some Gentiles chose to ignore the sabbath based on Paul’s teaching, though in time they may have succumbed to the notion of Sunday. Other groups allegorized away the sabbath. The author of the Epistle of Barnabas declared it a thing of the past. The divine verdict of Isa 1:13, “I cannot bear your new moons and sabbaths,” is interpreted to mean, “it is not the present sabbaths that are acceptable to me, but the one that I have made; on that sabbath, after I have set everything at rest, I will create the beginning of an eighth day, which is the beginning of another world. This is why we spend the eighth day in celebration, the day on which Jesus both arose from the dead and, after appearing again, ascended into heaven.”463 Calling Sunday the eighth day, though appearing first here, became common among Christians, including


Gnostics. It stressed cosmic renewal as the eighth day replaced the seventh day, which completed the old era. He considered Sunday a day of joy in anticipation of the eschatological sabbath, the coming eternal rest when the kingdom of God is established.464 But Pseudo-Barnabas is a rare bird, probably from an Alexandrian milieu, who considered all Jewish laws to have been false literal interpretations of God’s commands, sabbath observance included. The earliest reference to the ritual meals associated with Sunday, the Eucharist and the agape feast, are mentioned because of the greed and gluttony of some participants but are not instituted as part of Sunday worship.465 When Paul cited the tradition he received, he called for sobriety, consideration of others (communion), and to proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. Although the Eucharist is almost certainly a continuation of the Last Supper Jesus shared with his disciples, both meals found their social context in the Jewish and Greco-Roman communal ritual meals. The early Jewish and Gentile Christians performed their meals as they were accustomed according to their local culture. Breaking bread and blessing wine, or for Gentiles, pouring out a libation to the gods, was common to all such feasts as the act of giving thanks (eucharistia). Jesus gave thanks at his final meal, and his thanksgiving, which may have been his performance of the Kiddush, the traditional Jewish sanctification of the sabbath, became the Christian thanksgiving ritual called the Eucharist.466 The two names for Christian communal meals, agape and Eucharist, were used interchangeably for more than a century and reflect their nature as a common practice unregulated except by local custom, and a morality appropriate for the occasion. In the early days, anticipation of the return of Jesus at any time meant each communal feast might be their last supper “until he comes.”

S3.4 Gamaliel II and Birkat ha-Minim Not all the evidence for Jewish believers and the relations between them and the Jews must be deduced from Christian traditions. Rabbinic traditions are not completely silent. Gamaliel II is credited with arranging the Eighteen Benedictions (another name for the ancient prayer called the Amidah), and adding a benediction against the minim, the heretics, which most certainly included Jewish believers at this time. Composed by Samuel ha-Katan (the Small), it was inserted into the blessing (actually a curse) of the minim (“heretics,” “sectarians”).467 And for apostates let there be no hope; and may the insolent kingdom be quickly uprooted, in our days. And may [the notsrim and] the minim perish quickly; and may they be erased from the Book of Life and may they not be inscribed with the righteous. Blessed art thou, Lord, who humblest the insolent.468

The origin and original wording of this twelfth benediction are unknown and presently unrecoverable. The benediction probably originated in some form with the Pharisees and was meant to exclude perushim (“outsiders”) from their fellowship, and in good contemporary form, issued a pox on them all. The outsiders may have included extreme Hellenists, Essenes, Sadducees, and apocalyptic groups, as


well as antagonistic followers of Jesus, such as the former Pharisee, Saul of Tarsus. Gamaliel II commissioned a revised version at Yavneh to include minim in order to deal with the increased diversity of Jewish views, which included the Jewish believers in Jesus, but did not specify them. There is considerable controversy over whether the benediction composed by Samuel ha-Katan included the notsrim (“Nazarenes,” “Nazoreans”) along with the minim, or whether it was added later. In the eyes of Gamaliel and the rabbis, were Nazarenes a sufficient threat at this point to be honored by name in the general anathema of heretics? The purpose of this “blessing” at any stage in its development was to invoke the sovereignty of God over all his enemies both within and without the boundary of his covenant people. Within are those Jews who do not properly honor God in worship, and without is the insolent kingdom of Rome. The inclusion of the name minim at Yavneh applied only to Jews who had gone astray, not to Gentiles, and may still have included extreme Hellenists who accepted only the Decalogue, extreme allegorists who rejected literal circumcision and other laws, lingering Sadducees, apocalyptic groups, the newer groups of Jewish Gnostics, and Nazoreans (notsrim). Heretics were distinct within a range of Jewish renegades: heretics (minim), apostates, traitors, Epicureans, those who deny the Torah, those who separate from the ways of the community, those who deny the resurrection of the dead, and whoever both sinned and cause the public to sin.469

These are all resigned to Gehenna for all generations. What they have in common is their Jewish identity. Gentiles are irrelevant. At this early stage of relations between rabbis and Jewish believers, the sages were aware of the danger of diversity within the Jewish ranks, in which the Nazarenes played their part. That said, the sages at Yavneh had little, if any, influence on the many synagogues throughout Judaea and the Galilee, and virtually none among the Diaspora Jews. Whatever benedictions they espoused among themselves, we should not expect the formula to have been widely used in Palestine or even known in the Diaspora. The fact was, Jews had been excluding fellow congregants who professed faith in Jesus for a generation or more, as attested by the Gospel of John (9:22). It is unlikely the benediction of the minim at this point affected many lives.

S3.5 Early Rabbinic Encounters with Christians Early rabbinic traditions (ca. 70–200) preserve two stories of an encounter between sages and a follower of Jesus. The preservation of the stories reflect the concerns of the third century and later, the rising danger of Christianity, but the origin of the stories, the elusive historical kernel, represents the earliest layer of conflict between Jews and Christians available in Jewish tradition. The historicity of the stories cannot be determined, but the need for the birkat ha-minim during the Yavnean period (70–135) provides a milieu for genuine contact and conflict between the sages and Jewish believers.


Rabbi Eleazar b. Dama, said to be a nephew of Rabbi Ishmael, was bitten by a serpent. A man named Jacob of Kefar Sama came to cure him in the name of Jesus son of Pantera. Rabbi Ishmael would not permit it. Ben Dama said he could prove from Scripture that it was permissible, but he died before he could do so. Rabbi Ishmael blessed him for having died in peace and not broken the hedge erected by the sages. The moral of the story is the verse, “whoever breaks through a wall will be bitten by a snake” (Eccl 10:8).470 The Scripture applied to the story is but partly relevant, since Ben Dama did not disobey his uncle, and he did die of snake bite. Later Talmudic development is aware of the problem and deals with it. The historical core reflects the very early tradition of the power of healing in the name of Jesus and its association with magic, or in the case of exorcism, the power of Satan. A second tradition deals with Rabbi Eliezer b. Hyrcanus, the sage excommunicated by the others for his refusal to accept the majority view on the halakhah of the oven of Aknai. Eliezer was accused of being a secret Christian at a time when this was illegal. Roman authorities arrested him and investigated the charge. He was found innocent and released. But Eliezer was puzzled as to why he was arrested at all. Akiba suggested he may have heard something from a heretic that pleased him. Then Eliezer recalled that he had once talked with a Christian in Sepphoris, a certain Jacob of Kefar Sikhnin (perhaps the same Jacob of the Ben Dama story), who had told him a teaching of Jesus (Yeshu ben Pantiri). Jacob of Kefar Sikhnin said: It is written in your Torah, You shall not bring the hire of a harlot [. . . into the house of the Lord thy God] (Deut 23:19). May such money be applied to the erection of a retiring place [latrine] for the High Priest? [Eliezer made no reply.] Said Jacob: Thus was I taught by Jesus the Nazarene, For of the hire of a harlot hath she gathered them and unto the hire of a harlot shall they return (Micah 1:7), they came from a place of filth, let them go to a place of filth.

Rabbi Eliezer was pleased by the teaching, but erred by repeating it to others, thereby enhancing the reputation of a heretic, and leading to his arrest. The tradition is preserved as a lesson, placed in the mouth of Rabbi Eliezer himself: “One should always flee from what is disreputable and from whatever appears to be disreputable.”471 Both traditions identify Jesus son of Pantera, in one form or another, which has an obscure but early origin. The rumors are sufficiently widespread so that by the late second century the opponent of Christianity, Celsus (ca. 180), can repeat stories known among the Jews about the illegitimate Jesus son of a Roman soldier named Panthera. Two other traditions attested only in the Babylonian Talmud, therefore less secure as evidence, describe conflicts between important sages and Jewish believers. The first story concerns Rabbi Gamaliel II and his sister, Imma Shalom, the wife of Rabbi Eliezer. The story, which may have been a sermon illustration, is an acerbic parody on Matt 5:14–17: You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in

Jews and Christians I 327 the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven. Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.

A certain philosopher judge, assumed to be a Jewish Christian, had the reputation of not accepting bribes. Rabbi Gamaliel II and Imma Shalom decided to make fun of the judge. Imma Shalom brought a golden lamp as a bribe and asked the judge to rule in her favor on a family inheritance. The judge so ruled. Gamaliel cited the law of Moses: “Where there is a son, the daughter does not inherit.” The judge replied that since their exile, the law of Moses had been replaced by another book (later gloss: the law of the Evangelion), in which it is written, “A son and a daughter shall inherit alike.”472 The next day, Rabbi Gamaliel sent the judge a Lybian ass. The judge then noted that he had looked further into the Gospel and found where it is written, “I am not come to take away from the Law of Moses and I am not come to add to the Law of Moses” (cf. Matt 5:17), and therefore the law of Moses applied. He reversed his previous decision. Imma Shalom said to him, “Let your light shine as a lamp!” Rabbi Gamaliel said to her, “The bushel-carrier [lit. ass] came and knocked over the lamp.”473 The concluding statement of Gamaliel contained a pun on the word for “ass” (hamor) and “bushel” (homer) and referred to the admonition against hiding one’s light under a bushel basket. The Jewish believers who claimed to follow the teachings of Jesus were hereby exposed as hypocrites. Because the parody occurs only in the Babylonian Talmud, there is considerable doubt that it was composed during the Yavnean era, let alone represents a historical incident, which it almost certainly does not. Nevertheless, the basic gist of the Gospel of Matthew (or the Gospel of the Hebrews) could have been known to the sages of Yavneh, and the story could have originated at that time. (It could have been, after all, a sermon illustration.) If the parody does come as early as Yavneh, then the later phrase “overturning the lamp” as a charge against Christian orgies may find its origin here, in which it is an indictment on Jewish believers who have abandoned the law of Moses and forgotten the teachings of Jesus, and are hypocrites to boot.474 Rabbinic tradition recalls that Rabbi Joshua, who acted as leader of the sages after the death of Gamaliel, was granted an audience with Hadrian once or twice during the emperor’s visits to the region. He may have even accompanied Hadrian on his visit to Alexandria, where there was still a Jewish presence despite the disastrous revolt during the reign of Trajan. Either in Palestine or Alexandria, Joshua is said to have engaged a heretic, probably a Jewish Christian, in some sort of pantomime debate, in which the Jewish Christian argued God had withdrawn his face from Israel, presumably now in favor of Christians, and Joshua responded by signs that the divine hand remains over Israel in providential care.475 Whether nor not the debate occurred, the topic was of primary importance between Jews and Christians in the early second century, as Justin’s dialog with the Jew Trypho (written in the same decade) will explore at some length. Finally, it is conceivable, as some have suggested, that a parable recounted by Rabbi Meir alludes to early Christology.

328 Vines Intertwined Meir would say, “Why does Scripture say, For one which is hanged is cursed by God (Deut 21:23)? The matter is comparable to two brothers, who were identical twins. One was king over the whole world, and one joined a gang of thieves. After a while this one who had gone out to join the thieves was caught, and they crucified him on a cross. And everyone who went by said, “This one who is being crucified looks just like the king!” Therefore it is said, For one who is hanged is a curse of God.476

The Babylonian Talmud (Sanhedrin 46b) preserves the parable, with the addition that because the people thought the king had been crucified, the twin was taken down off the cross. The meaning of the parable as preserved in the Talmud, however, may refer simply to the creation of man in the image of God (Gen 5:1), and that is the reason why the law does not permit a body to be left hanging. The context of Meir’s original use of the parable (assuming it goes back to him) is impossible to recover, but such allusions serve as illustrations of a dialogue between Jews and Jewish followers of Jesus that surely was to be found in towns and villages of Palestine.

Part Four

(138–312 c.e.)

Chapter 15

Antonine Peace and the Struggles of Jews and Christians (138–192 c.e.)

15.1 Roman Empire Hadrian spent his final years in Rome. Because he had no offspring of his own, he adopted Lucius Ceionius Commodus, a known profligate, which may have been the worst decision of his reign. But Fortuna smiled, and Commodus died soon after. Hadrian then turned his attention to a young nephew who had long made a favorable impression, Marcus Annius Verus, but at age 18, too young for the throne. He solved the issue by adopting Aurelius Antoninus, a wealthy and childless senator from southern Gaul, and required that Antoninus adopt both Marcus Annius Verus, who would change his name to Marcus Aurelius, and Lucius Verus, the 8-year-old son of Commodus. Hadrian died in July of 138. The new emperor Antoninus prevailed upon a reluctant senate to deify Hadrian, and the senate rewarded his filial piety by calling him Antoninus Pius.

15.1.1 Antoninus Pius The next generation of the Roman Empire would prosper in relative tranquility under the reign of two staid emperors, Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius, gratifying, no doubt, the ghost of Hadrian who had arranged their successions. The 23-year reign of Antoninus passed so calmly that it left a pause in the record. Emperor Antoninus Pius was wealthy and a patient man without ambition. He continued, with moderation, the building programs of Hadrian in Italy and the provinces, though he never set foot out of Italy, and barely out of Rome. To the title Pius the senate added Optimus Princeps, the best of the princes. Momentarily, the empire had a true philosopher king, and his example guided the young Marcus Aurelius, so that their reigns were as one, imitating that of Augustus. Edward Gibbon’s famous line, if slightly hyperbolic, is worth repeating: “Their united reigns are possibly the only period of history in which the happiness of a great people was the sole object of government.”1 Jews also benefitted from this benevolence, for Antoninus relieved the restrictive measures placed on the Jews by Hadrian or his governors.


The reign of Antoninus was marred by a few skirmishes on the northern frontier. In 142, he suppressed an uprising in Britain and reclaimed more land by constructing a garrisoned turf barrier a hundred miles north of Hadrian’s Wall. The Antonine Wall, as it later was called, lasted only for his reign and was then abandoned for Hadrian’s Wall. His armies put down minor revolts along the Rhine and in Dacia, Mauretania, and Egypt. Marcus Aurelius married the daughter of Antoninus, Faustina, and in 146 began a joint rule with Antoninus. Lucius Verus was left to his own desires, which by most accounts were similar to those of his profligate father, and inconsequential to history.

15.1.2 Marcus Aurelius Upon the death of Antoninus Pius in 161, Marcus Aurelius might have ruled alone, but he honored the intention of Hadrian by making the young Lucius Verus co-emperor. Joint imperial rule was an innovation, and a bad idea, but in effect Marcus was senior ruler and made all the decisions. Challenges to his rule came quickly when a Parthian army, under Vologeses III (148–192), invaded Armenia. Verus took command of the war that followed, and with the help of able generals, primarily the Syrian senator Avidius Cassius, the Romans quickly controlled Armenia. By 166, they had taken Mesopotamia as far as Seleucia, which they burned, and the capital city of Ctesiphon, where they razed the palace of Vologeses.2 Cassius even ventured further into Media across the northern Tigris. The victories, however, did not last long. In 165, the soldiers contracted a plague, which so weakened his fighting force that the campaign was abandoned. The soldiers brought the plague, perhaps smallpox according to the description of Galen, the personal physician of Marcus, with them to their base camps and spread it across the empire. The death rate was between 7 and 10 percent, though higher among the army units, and in some cases, whole villages were nearly wiped out. Over the next 25 years that the plague endured, the death toll is estimated at 3.5 to 5 million Romans.3 Pressure from the northern Germanic tribes began in 167 and would occupy Marcus Aurelius until his death. The anonymous author of the Historia Augusta lists the plethora of tribes banding together against Rome: Marcomanni, Varistae, Hermunduri, Quadi, Suebians, Sarmatians, Lacringes and Buri, Victuali, Osi, Bessi, Cobotes, Roxolani, Bastarnae, Alani, Peucini, and finally, the Costoboci.4 Within 2 years, the minor disturbances became a full-scale invasion along the Danube when the Marcomanni and Quadi tribes crossed over, overpowered the Roman defenses of 20,000 men, advanced westward until they crossed the Alps, and besieged the town of Aquileia, near Venice, in northern Italy. The reason for the invasion is not clear, but it may have been due to advances from other tribes in northern steppes (Russia), or overpopulation, or the peaceful and defensive reign of Antoninus was taken as a sign of weakness, or all of these. But the relations between the tribes and the empire was already interdependent in trade, and many of the smaller tribes consistently asked to be admitted into the Roman Empire and resorted to attacks when denied. The “barbarians” were not trying to conquer Rome but to gain the advantage of its wealth and protection.

Antonine Peace and the Struggles of Jews and Christians 333

Marcus soon found it impossible to impose wartime taxes on a people weakened by the plague, so he was reduced to auctioning off imperial possessions, jewels, and objects d’art to raise the needed army. Lucius Verus died in 169. The following year, Marcus suffered a defeat across the Danube, and a tribe from the Black Sea advanced to threaten Athens. The northern frontier was in turmoil, but in 172 Marcus launched a series of campaigns that progressively beat back the Marcomanni and Quadi. During one such campaign, a sudden rainstorm saved his army from both drought and defeat. Christians claimed the miracle came in response to the prayers of Christian soldiers in the Twelfth Fulminata (Thundering) Legion. Dio credits the miracle to an Egyptian magician, Arnuphis, and the victory column of Marcus in Rome attributes the divine favor to Jupiter Pluvius. The versions are not incompatible—if all the soldiers prayed.5 The success of Marcus was interrupted in 175, when a rumor of his death spurred Avidius Cassius, the victorious general of the Parthian campaign, to proclaim himself emperor. Marcus quickly made peace with the tribes still not subjugated and marched east. At this point Dio preserves a speech of Marcus to his soldiers that refers to the Jews in the army of Cassius, which, if accurate, tells us Jewish soldiers continued to serve on occasion in the Roman military.6 He also put the toga on his fourteenyear-old son, Commodus, and gave him increased responsibilities. When the eastern army learned that Marcus was alive and marching east, they assassinated Cassius. Marcus took the occasion to visit the East, stopping in Antioch, Alexandria, and Athens, where he attended lectures, endowed professorial positions in the philosophical schools, and was initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries. In 177, Marcus returned to Rome, where the senate voted him a triumph as the savior of the world. He then made Commodus, now sixteen, joint ruler, and together they resumed the war in the north. Whatever his long-range military plans were, they were cut short by his death in early 180. Commodus promptly ended the campaign and returned to Rome. While on campaigns, Marcus kept a journal of his thoughts, probably intended for his eyes only, but it was published posthumously as Meditations. The thoughts of the philosopher king follow the basic moral tenets of Epictetus’s Stoicism. Although Meditations has inspired many throughout the generations, in modern times it has fallen from the gilded shelf of eternal classics. In the end, the statesmanship of Marcus Aurelius is judged as genuine but unequal to the decay of the empire, and his wisdom was borrowed. Indeed, his choice of the young Commodus as successor has long proved a paradox to his most ardent admirers. But, as others have pointed out, if he had not named his son to rule, he would have had to adopt another and had his own son exiled or executed.

15.1.3 Commodus Born the year his father Marcus Aurelius became emperor, Commodus was still a youth of nineteen when he assumed sole rule of Rome in 180. He was the first emperor since Nero born into an imperial household. Less than 2 years passed before his sister, Lucilla, conspired with a few senators to assassinate him. Commodus


escaped the plot and took vengeance by assassinating many leading senators. His rule grew increasingly capricious, but thanks to stable governors, the empire remained at peace, and in 186 he secured the grain supply by building a fleet, the classis Africana, devoted to its transport. During the latter half of his reign, he appears to have lapsed into insanity, the delusion of divinity, following the imperial tradition of Caligula, Nero, and Domitian. He renamed Rome Colonia Commodiana (Colony of Commodus), required the senate to recognize him as the god Hercules Romanus, and entered the arena to fight as a gladiator or to hunt the lion with bow and arrow. This vulgar exhibition displeased the masses as much as the senate. By 192, when the palace itself felt threatened, his advisers brought in a wrestling companion who strangled the emperor. A grateful senate expeditiously named the prefect of Rome, Publius Helvius Pertinax, as emperor and passed the damnatio memorae on Commodus, as it had on Domitian and Nero. And as with the death of Nero, the following year saw four emperors. Pertinax, despite his humble birth, was well respected by the senate. Born to a freedman, he received a good education and became a teacher. The pay, however, was paltry, and he worked his way up the golden ladder of imperial servitude to the prefecture of Rome. He probably had a hand in the assassination of Commodus, having already promised the Praetorian Guard a large donative. But he had no army. When he attempted to apply fiscal responsibility to the government, he lost the support of many Praetorians. By March of 193, a group of disgruntled soldiers marched on his residence. He confronted them and was stabbed to death. The Praetorian officers then looked about for a new candidate and found just the man in the wealthy senator Didius Julianus, who outbid other contenders with the promise of the largest donative, the cash grant to soldiers upon assuming the throne. Meanwhile, in the provinces, other armies were declaring their leaders as emperor, and civil war followed.

15.2 Jews 15.2.1 Palestine Antoninus Pius recognized the failure of Hadrian’s oppression of the Jews, and Roman policy changed. The Historia Augusta mentions a “revolt” under Antoninus, but if anything lies behind this solitary comment, it can only have been local riots accompanying the death of Hadrian.7 Judaism returned to its former status of a legal religion (religio licita) of the empire, which meant freedom of assembly, of worship and practice, including the circumcision of their sons but not Gentile slaves, and the privileged release of Jews from civic duties that involved their view of idolatry. Jerusalem and its vicinity remained forbidden territory to Jews or to anyone circumcised. And Jewish proselytism was banned or highly restricted. The Jewish tax of two drachmae ( fiscus Iudaicus) continued, but eventually inflation reduced it to an inconvenient insult rather than a financial burden. Thousands of Jews fled the land of Israel for refuge in the eastern Diaspora, or Egypt, and even into Arabia during the devastation of the Bar Kokhba war and


the ensuing persecution in the last years of Hadrian. The land was devastated, and much of the wealth had gone with the refugees or fallen into the hands of the conquerors. Those who remained labored to revive the land, but they were restricted by the Roman resettlement of Judaean towns and cities with Syrians and Arabs. The urban centers of Palestine, including Tiberias and Sepphoris, were controlled by Gentile councils, so that Jews lost virtually all political power in city government.8 A classic passage on the rabbinic attitudes toward Rome is preserved in a discussion by three prominent second-century rabbis. R. Judah, R. Jose, and R. Simeon were sitting, and Judah, a son of proselytes, was sitting near them. R. Judah commenced the discussion by observing, “How fine are the works of this people! They have made streets, they have built bridges, they have erected baths.” R. Jose was silent. R. Simeon b. Yohai answered and said, “All that they made they made for themselves; they built marketplaces, to set harlots in them; baths, to rejuvenate themselves; bridges, to levy tolls for them.”9

The tradition concludes that the son of proselytes who heard the discussion mentioned it to his Gentile family, and it eventually reached the Roman administration. The government promoted Judah who praised them, exiled Jose who remained silent, and decreed the death penalty for Simeon who censured them. Simeon and his son then went into hiding. The incident reveals that rabbis expressed a wide range of views toward Rome that undoubtedly reflected the Jewish people at large. Judah praised the advantages of Roman rule, Jose was ambivalent, and Simeon condemned the motivation of Rome for the supposed benefits of its rule. The response of Roman magistrates was predictable, but the fact that they responded suggests they now viewed the rabbis as community leaders who had to be watched and dealt with. The rabbis were on the rise, and far from monolithic, they shared the gamut of Jewish views on Roman rule. Jews survived mainly in the little villages within the Judaean hills and along the banks of the Jordan and north Dead Sea, where many worked the date palm and balsam plantations. Jewish villages remained in the south, between Hebron and Beersheva. Along the coastal plain some urban Jewish communities also survived, but these were soon infiltrated by Gentiles who gained a majority and received the active support of Rome. Further north, in the Plain of Sharon, Jewish villages survived, as well as in the Decapolis and around the Sea of Galilee. It was, however, in Galilee that Jews could still claim a majority, with between 300,000 to 400,000, or about 75 percent of the population, in some 56 known settlements.10 The strength of Galilee lay in its peasants, landowners who knew how to care for the land, and therefore, the spirit of Palestinian Judaism settled itself in the Galilee.

15.2.2 Rabbinic Tradition History Among the refugees who fled to the Diaspora were disciples of Akiba: Jose ben Halafta to Cappadocia, Meir to Asia Minor, Eleazer ben Shammua and Rabbi Johanan the Cobbler to Nisibis, and Rabbi Nehemiah possibly to Babylonia. Two disciples of Rabbi Ishmael, Jonathan and Josiah, also took refuge in Babylonia.


When Antoninus Pius repealed the edicts against Jewish laws in Palestine around 140, many disciples who had fled to Asia Minor and Babylonia returned. Along with other disciples, now rabbis, they gathered in Usha, a small town in the hills of western Galilee, and called on sages to resume teaching and disciples to come and learn. The core of the reassembled rabbinic movement, called “the restorers of the law,” were the following: Meir, Judah (ben Ilai), Jose (ben Halafta), Simeon (ben Yohai), and Eleazar ben Shammua.11 They were leaders in the fourth generation of Tannaim ( fl. 140–170), but many lived well beyond 170. Simeon, son of Gamaliel II, had escaped the massacre of Bethar and gone into hiding. He now returned, and the council at Usha accepted him, partly because of his ancestry but also because they needed a leader wise in the ways of the world. Simeon ben Gamaliel II ( fl. 140–170) was such a leader. Educated in Greek philosophy as well as the sciences, he was able to revive whatever prestige his father had held. Although we have no external evidence that the Roman governor of Syria-Palestine noticed him, Simeon shouldered the task of leadership as the Jews recovered from the Bar Kokhba revolt. 15.2.2.1 Principal Rabbis Jose ben Halafta, known simply as Rabbi Jose, was of Babylonian origin, though born in Sepphoris. His trade was that of a tanner, which, for good reasons, was despised. He studied under Johanan ben Nuri and under a certain Eutolemos ben Reuben, a sage of some repute who served as a liaison with the Roman authorities and therefore cut his hair short “in the Gentile fashion” with permission of the sages, we are told. But Jose was devoted to Akiba, whose principles of scriptural interpretation he followed, deriving a great deal from the apparently superfluous letters or words. After the war, he returned from exile in Asia Minor and resumed his life as a sage at Usha. At some point, he settled in Sepphoris and established a study house. He is listed among the various heads of school in the popular interpretation of Deut 16:20, “Justice, and only justice, you shall follow,” which meant “follow Jose to Sepphoris.”12 Among his pupils would be Judah, the son of Simeon ben Gamaliel and future patriarch. Jose did not like controversy and preferred compromise when possible, both in halakhah and politics. He conversed with Romans, and on one occasion, he was said to have converted a Roman matron to accept that Judaism is the superior religion.13 He is also the reputed author of the Seder Olam Rabbah, a chronicle of history from creation to Hadrian. Judah ben Ilai was a native of Usha who had gone into hiding during the revolt and returned to his home after the death of Hadrian. Besides being a disciple of Akiba, Tarfon and his own father had been his teachers. He was more of an ascetic than most rabbis, somewhat in the tradition of the Essenes, a vegetarian who drank no wine except when required by Torah. That is not to say that he did not love life, for it is also reported that whenever a wedding procession passed, he would leave his Torah study to join it. His piety became legendary, such that Babylonian tradition affirms that when a story begins “It once happened to a pious man . . .” Judah ben Ilai is assumed. He followed Akiba’s method of scriptural interpretation and


strove to provide a scriptural basis for rabbinic decisions. He was a practical man, and even though he had to hide during the war, he understood the reality of the Roman Empire and appreciated the benefits of Roman rule.14 Meir is among the most colorful rabbis of the day. Despite his obscure origins, he probably came from Asia Minor and was possibly the son of a proselyte to Judaism. One tradition even claims he was a descendent of Nero.15 Meir began his studies under Rabbi Akiba, but finding him too difficult, he studied under Rabbi Ishmael and is said to have been a student of Elisha ben Abuya as well. When he had gained sufficient training, he returned to Akiba, who had him ordained before the normal age. He was indeed a prodigy, and the name Meir, meaning “one who enlightens,” was itself a nickname given by colleagues.16 He sought to give rational reasons for a particular legal ruling and is remembered for his ability to give 150 reasons why an object was ritually clean and more than 150 reasons why it was unclean. While he thus amazed his colleagues by his intellect, few of his rulings survived because of the balanced argument. He was also well read in Greek and Latin literature, applied its stories to his own exposition of Scripture, and was later said to have collected 300 fables similar to those of Aesop. Unlike his teacher Akiba, Meir remained aloof from the Bar Kokhba war but resumed his leadership at Usha. He married a woman worthy of his own brilliance, Beruriah, the daughter of the martyred Hananiah ben Teradion. Rabbinic tradition has glorified her among women for her vast knowledge of Torah and halakhah, and even rendering a halakhic decision at odds with the sages that was later approved by the patriarch Judah I.17 One late legend of Beruriah, from which a historical kernel can scarcely be extracted, has become a fixture in Jewish tradition and deserves mention. While Meir was at the study house one sabbath, their two young sons died suddenly. When Meir returned in the evening, he asked to see his sons, but Beruriah delayed him with excuses. She gave him a cup of wine to bless the closure of the sabbath and prepared his meal. While he ate, she posed to him a question. She had been given a treasure for safe keeping, she explained, but now the owner had asked for it, and she did not wish to give it back. Must she return it? Meir was surprised that his wife would even pose such a matter to him, when the answer was clear that she must do so. Beruriah replied that she had not wished to return the treasure without her husband’s knowledge. She then took him by the hand and led him to the room where their sons lay and withdrew the burial shroud. Meir began to groan and weep, but Beruriah said softly, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21).18 Simeon ben Yohai was from Galilee and became an ardent disciple of Akiba. His father, Yohai, was of the upper class and maintained good relations with the government. While Akiba was in prison, Yohai arranged for Simeon to visit his master in order to study, but Akiba would no longer teach him. If the legends about him yield any facts, Simeon fell afoul of the Roman authorities after Akiba’s death, and as we saw, he went into hiding until the death of Hadrian.19 In another tradition, which may well stem from a historical event, he facilitated the settlement of Jews in the city of Tiberias. According to Josephus, while Antipas was building Tiberias, an ancient graveyard was discovered, making the place ritually impure, and the


Pharisees had refused to dwell there. Since then, the location of graveyard had been lost. Simeon managed to locate it, and once the skeletons had been interred elsewhere, he purified the city.20 Eleazar ben Shammua was a wealthy man of priestly descent. Little is known of his life, though he appears often in the Talmuds, often simply as Rabbi Eleazar. He founded a school somewhere, probably in Galilee, and at times he had the young Judah I among his pupils. A Babylonian sage hailed him as “the most excellent among the sages.”21 The two disciples of Rabbi Ishmael, Josiah and Jonathan, who fled to Babylonia, appear to have remained there. Josiah may have studied with Judah ben Bathyra (II) in Nisibis and later settled in Huzal, a town between Nehardea and Sura, where he established a school. Josiah, his son Ahai, his colleague Jonathan, and other disciples carried on the teachings of Ishmael and are likely responsible for the collection and preservation of the midrash associated with Ishmael. By this means, the influence of the Tannaim grew in Babylonia, at least among a select upper class interested in halakhah. One of the students, or perhaps colleagues, in Huzal may have been Nathan, the son of a very prominent Babylonian Jew, who, when he emigrated to Palestine, was already well learned in halakhah.22 15.2.2.2 Rabbinic Power Struggles There had always been a hierarchy of leadership among Jewish communities throughout the Diaspora that negotiated with kings and emperors for the plight of their people. In Antioch and Alexandria, the large Jewish communities had their senate, or assembly. In Babylonia, large Jewish communities no doubt had their councils of eminent persons, ruling families, and occasionally individuals like Anileus and Asineus were recognized as princes.23 Palestinian rabbis visiting Parthia around this time describe certain important Jews as wearing tall hats, speaking with grave voices, holding Parthian names, such as Arda and Arta, and with the power to arrest and execute men. These Jews were clearly connected to the ruling class sanctioned by the Parthian rulers with power of life and death over other Jews. There is faint yet credible evidence that Jews in Babylonia were elevated into the Parthian ruling class in the late first and early second centuries, and one such prince, known to us only as the father of Rabbi Nathan, may be considered to have been a forerunner of the office of resh galuta, head of the exile, or exilarch.24 Around 145, Rabbi Hananiah, the nephew of Rabbi Joshua who had emigrated to Babylonian before the war and gained some prominence as a sage, rendered a decision on the calendar, fixing the Jewish festivals as well as the intercalated bissextile (that is, the leap year of the Julian calendar) years. He may have thought the patriarchate in Palestine would not survive, but the move was viewed in Palestine as secession from the authority of the patriarchate. Simeon ben Gamaliel II sent emissaries to reprove Hananiah and to restore Palestinian authority over the calendar. Hananiah refused to comply, claiming Akiba had set the precedent by intercalating outside Palestine (ca. 100). They reminded Hananiah that he was not Akiba. Hananiah sought help from Judah ben Bathyra II in Nisibis but got none.


When Jewish public opinion in Babylonia sided with the patriarchate, Hananiah submitted to Simeon, ending a schism that was apparently serious, akin to the act of Jeroboam’s secession from Jerusalem and the establishment of a new cult center and a new calendar, and it might have divided permanently the Jews of Babylonia from those in the west.25 Soon after this, Rabbi Nathan immigrated to Palestine. The reason for his move is unknown. Some of the Jews of Babylonia may have sought influence with the patriarchate, or perhaps wished to undermine it to their advantage. Either way, Nathan was their emissary. Simeon b. Gamaliel appointed Nathan to the position of Av Bet Din (chief justice). One of Simeon’s reforms was the establishment of a new office, that of Hakham (“sage”) to preside over the “academy” (study house) along with the office of Av Bet Din, and he appointed Meir to fill the chair of Hakham. In the new structure, however, the nasi was supreme. The move of Simeon to consolidate power in the patriarchate did not go unchallenged. According to a solitary Babylonian tradition, around 155 Simeon b. Gamaliel sought to elevate his own position of patriarch distinctly above the two other offices, Av Bet Din held by Nathan, and that of Hakham, held by Meir. Originally, when the three officials entered the assembly, all the people stood until they each sat down, showing equal honor to each. One day when Nathan and Meir were absent, Simeon declared that when the patriarch enters, all should rise, but when the Av Bet Din enters, one row on either side should rise and remain standing until he sits, and when the Hakham enters, everyone he passes should rise and sit when he had passed. On the following day, when Nathan and Meir entered, they were surprised by the new degrees of honor. Upon learning of the decree, they conspired to overturn it by challenging his competence in the Torah. In the end, the rabbis supported Simeon, and both Meir and Nathan were temporarily removed from their offices until a negotiated settlement was made.26 This tradition is an example of the tenuous nature of rabbinic history: a single anecdote from a much later source, which supposes a well-organized academy of higher learning and a chief justice for the court of Israel. Whatever historical kernel may lie behind the revolt of Meir and Nathan, it suggests a power struggle with a political agenda, for it is unlikely to have been caused by a slight to the honor of two sages. A plausible suggestion is that Babylonian Jews, along with anti-Roman Palestinian Jews, were attempting to remove the emerging Jewish leadership from the pro-Roman patriarchate to the Babylonian Jews. If so, the Jews of Babylonia no doubt had the blessing of Vologeses, who sought their support and influence across Mesopotamia in his effort to extend Parthian hegemony westward.27 The sages of Palestine, however, knew that Rome would hardly stand by idly and let Parthia maneuver the Jews in the eastern Roman frontier. They also knew that some monarchial authority and prestige was necessary for their leader to approach the Roman government. That need is why Simeon succeeded in the end.28 He also strengthened the authority of the Jewish courts, arguing that even if a judgment has made a slight error in evaluations of property, for example, its decision must be upheld.29 Roman courts, available to Jews as well as Gentiles, were of a higher authority, but in domestic cases, such as divorce, Rome tended to respect local customs and might enforce the decision of a Jewish court.


A serious problem confronting the patriarch and his rabbinic council at this time was emigration from Palestine. To counter this, rabbis made decisions that resulted in some innovative advances for a women’s independence—so long as she preferred the Land of Israel. If a woman wished to return to Palestine and her husband did not, the court would rule she might return, and if a husband chose to leave Palestine and the wife wished to remain, the court would permit her to remain.30 In legal discussions, some went so far as to argue that a person should not leave Palestine unless the price of wheat cost one sela (four denarii) for two seah (about 15 quarts); and Simeon ben Yohai said “at any price.”31 Such a verdict, of course, extended only as far as their influence reached. A strongly worded teaching, probably of Meir, sums up the views of many postwar Tannaim: “One should always live in the Land of Israel, even in a town most of whose inhabitants are idolaters, but let no one live outside the Land, even in a town most of whose inhabitants are Israelites; [and] . . . whoever lives outside the Land may be regarded as one who worships idols.”32 When Meir died, he was visiting in Asia Minor and asked that his coffin be set on the seashore, since the same waves washed the Land.33 In the end, the rabbinic teaching may have made an impact, for Jews across the Diaspora were sent back to Israel for burial, and in the following century, Beth-Shearim in Galilee became the central necropolis.34 Another way of encouraging immigration was to invite pilgrimages. In the absence of the temple, ancient sites of biblical history were identified and given a special blessing. “If a man saw a place where miracles had been wrought for Israel he should say, ‘Blessed is he that wrought miracles for our fathers in this place.’ If he saw a place from which idolatry had been rooted out he should say ‘Blessed is he that rooted out idolatry from our land.’ ”35 The sages acknowledged certain wellknown places: the crossing of the Red Sea, the fords of the Jordan, the fords of the streams of Arnon, or hailstones in the descent of Beth Horon, the stone that Og king of Bashan wanted to throw at Israel, the stone on which Moses sat when Joshua fought with Amalek, the pillar of salt of Lot’s wife (confirmed earlier by Josephus, who claims to have seen it), and the wall of Jericho which sank into the ground.36

15.3 Christians Prior to the Bar Kokhba war, Christians continued to spread their faith and make disciples, but they left few traces. Perhaps during that time or soon after, Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, sent Pothinus (ca. 87–177) as a missionary to Gaul. By the middle of the century, Pothinus established a church in the city of Lugnumum (Lyons), where he became its bishop. During the reigns of Antoninus and Marcus Aurelius, the church expanded into Germany, and Christians armed with Scriptures, including the letters of Paul in Latin, had established communities of believers in North Africa. By the time Marcus Aurelius assumed power, Christians were sufficiently ubiquitous and bothersome that Hellene critics wrote to ridicule and despoil this novelty that paraded itself as an ancient faith. The less literate denounced Christians for personal gain, and mobs engaged in riots for the same cause.


The attitude of Marcus Aurelius to Christians, when returned to its historical setting, may be judged as ambivalent. What were Christians, after all? Christianity appeared to be little more than an obscure, and perhaps dangerous, mystery religion, filled with miracle mongers and wizards who boasted about exorcizing demons but who did not believe in the gods; therefore, Christians were as good as atheists and impious to boot.37 But he seems to have at least admired them for their willingness to stand and die for their principles, and it is fairly certain that he never ordered a persecution of Christians. There were Christians in the imperial household, probably some in the senate, and certainly among his army.38 He was content to follow the precedent of Atoninius, Hadrian, and Trajan in this matter: Christians were ipso facto worthy of death, but the empire had adopted a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, and that was how Marcus proceeded. Once charged, the accused Christians were to be given the opportunity to recant, and if they did, to be released, but if not, to be tortured to death. We hear of persecutions in Athens, Crete, Smyrna, Pergamum, and in the cities of Lyons and Vienne in southern Gaul. When a certain Carpus in Pergamum refused to sacrifice to the gods, he was hung on a meat hook and scraped to death with hooks.39 The most well-known was that of Polycarp the bishop of Smyrna, whose death was immortalized in The Martyrdom of Polycarp, written by the church in Smyrna to the church in Philomelium, a smaller city in Phrygia. Polycarp, who had honored Ignatius on his journey to martyrdom, was himself martyred in his old age (ca. 155–165). Once he had been apprehended and brought to trial in the stadium, the proconsul tried to persuade him to save his life. He said, “Swear by the Fortune of Caesar, repent, and say ‘Away with the atheists.’ ” Polycarp looked with a stern face at the entire crowd of lawless Gentiles in the stadium, and gesturing to them with his hand, he sighed, looked up to heaven, and said, “Away with the atheists.” Polycarp was charged with treason because he would not swear allegiance by the Fortune of Caesar and with atheism because he did not recognize the gods of Rome. The proconsul made a final appeal: “Take the oath, and I will release you. Revile Christ.” To which Polycarp responded, “For eighty-six years I have served him, and he has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my king who has saved me?” Finally, the herald of the stadium proclaimed: “Polycarp has confessed himself to be a Christian.” In response, the multitude of Gentiles and Jews in Smyrna cried out with uncontrollable rage: “This is the teacher of impiety, the father of the Christians, the destroyer of our own gods, the one who teaches many not to sacrifice or worship the gods.” Such a response about the gods fits a Gentile crowd, but not so easily the Jews. The rest of the martyrdom is also constructed along the lines of the passion of Christ, in which the Jews of Smyrna worry that Christians will cherish and revere the martyred body of Polycarp and thus strengthen themselves and the movement. When the Christians sought to receive the corpse, the Jews pressured the officials not to give it up but to burn it, “lest they desert the one who was crucified and begin to worship this one.” In the end, the body was burned, and the Christians were allowed only to gather up his bones and ashes, which they did as if gathering gems and gold dust.40 Despite the anti-Jewish motifs of the


narrative, however, there is no reason to doubt that some Jews of Smyrna sided with the Gentiles in condemning Christians. Indeed, it would be noteworthy had they not. It has also been proposed that Polycarp was a converted Jew, and for this reason the Jewish community was particularly involved, because they feared one of their own would become a revered martyr of Christians and contribute to their idolatrous homage.41 In 177, people in Lyons and Vienna took matters into their own hands; or in the words of Eusebius, “the mighty rage of the heathens against the saints.”42 The cause for the mob violence is not recorded, but a general antipathy against Christians arose for the same reasons Gentiles disliked Jews; they were aloof in their separation and convenient scapegoats in hard times. The Christians were initially excluded from the baths and marketplace, then forbidden to be seen publicly at all. Individuals were attacked by mobs and homes plundered, and finally all were dragged to the marketplace, where accusations were made. When they admitted to being Christians, they were imprisoned until the governor arrived to judge them. When the trials did take place, the governor tried to give the accused a fair hearing, but the crowds often would not let them speak. Over the course of some months, many were tortured to death, either under the scourge or languishing in prison, including Pothinus, the 90 year-old bishop of Lyons. Some Christians recanted, but others went bravely to the arena. In the town of Scillium, North Africa, on July 17, 180, the proconsul Saturninus conducted the trial of 12 Christians, 7 men and 5 women, for refusal to swear their loyalty to Rome by the genius (Fortune) of Caesar. The leader responded, “I do not recognize the empire of this world; but rather I serve that God, whom no man has seen nor can see.” Saturninus, hoping to avoid the executions, told them to take 30 days and think it over. When they had all refused the reprieve and admitted they were Christians, the sentence of death was issued. “I have commanded that Speratus, Nartzalus, Cittinus, Veturius, Felix, Aquilinus, Laetantius, Januaria, Generosa, Vestia, Donata, Secunda be led forth to execution.” They all responded, “Thanks be to God.”43

15.3.1 Critics of Christians (and Jews) Galen (129–ca. 200), the famous anatomist and personal physician of Marcus Aurelius, denounced Jews and Christians for accepting everything on faith rather than demonstration, and for their obstinate loyalty to irrational dogma. Because they could not follow a genuine argument, they relied on parables and tales of life after death. Nevertheless, like his emperor he expressed admiration for their contempt of death, which he found “not inferior to that of genuine philosophers.”44 Cornelius Fronto (ca. 95–166), a leading rhetor of the second century, passed on supposedly well-known hearsay about infant sacrifice during initiation into Christian associations, a ritual similar to the accusation against Jews of the fattened Greek boy slain before Passover. In this version, a baby is covered in flour, and the initiate is urged to beat the hidden bundle beneath. The baby in this way is


killed, and “it is this blood that they lick with thirsty lips; the limbs they distribute eagerly; this is the victim by which they seal the covenant.” Fronto also gave a classic description of the incestuous passions of Christian nocturnal banquets in the “overturning of the lamp.” It was alleged that Christians of both genders and all ages gather on a special day to feast and drink. A dog is tied to the leg of a table on which sits the lamp, and when they burn with intoxicated passions, they toss a scrap of food just beyond the reach of the dog, who leaps for it. “By this means the light is overturned and extinguished, and with it common knowledge of their actions; in the shameless dark and with unspeakable lust they copulate in random unions, all being equally guilty of incest, some by deed but everyone by complicity.”45 Lucian of Samosata (120–ca.180) despised Jews as superstitious and charlatans but reserved equal ire for Christians. In his story entitled The Death of Peregrinus, Lucian tells of a Cynic philosopher, Peregrinus, who committed suicide by immolating himself during the Olympic Games of 165. For a while, Peregrinus had joined the “priests and scribes of the Christians in Palestine and became an expert in that astonishing religion.” Jesus is “that man they still worship today, the one who was crucified in Palestine because he brought this new cult into being. . . . The poor devils have convinced themselves that they’re all going to be immortal. . . . They worship the crucified sophist and live their lives according to his rules. They scorn all possessions without distinction and treat them as community property.”46 Lucian’s satirical description of some Christians who maintain the communal sharing of the early church may be a standard caricature, but it offers a rare glimpse of how Gentiles viewed the poor groups in Palestine. Celsus ( fl. 160–190), a learned Greek in Egypt and friend of the satirist Lucian, was both alarmed by the growth of Christianity and intrigued by its diversity and aloofness, and in particular, the Christian antagonism to the Jews.47 Celsus wrote a book entitled Alethes Logos, “True Discourse” (ca. 178), in which religious truth, as everyone knew, was faithfulness to ancestral customs, also called piety. The book is the first methodical attack on Christianity. Celsus was mildly interested in the new religion, but he scorned the intellectual poverty of its adherents, and he used some Jewish arguments as his own. His polemic begins with the common belief that Zeus rules a pantheon, as a king of kings, which in turn rule the world. This is the key to order, the criterion of government and truth, a truth falsified by Jews and Christians. The Jews, in their rejection of the gods, have rebelled, and the Christians have rebelled against the Jews. Rebellion is to be punished by death, and it is right that Christians should be so punished. Celsus used the old argument also made by Apion that Jews were originally Egyptians whom Moses led against the king, and their rebellion led to novel religious beliefs. Christians did the same, claiming a god had come down to earth, when it was obvious no god had helped either people. The rebelliousness of the Christians was evident by their rash rejection of loyalty oaths to the emperor and the martyrdoms that followed. Celsus called on Christians to demonstrate their piety by accepting the duties of public office, which meant engaging in the public religious cult. (It also suggests he knew of some Christians qualified to do so.) The main attack of Celsus—and it no doubt expresses an elite and hence imperial


view—is that growth of Christianity undermines the strength and solidarity of the Roman Empire. It is, by its nature, seditious. Celsus accepted the accusation, which surfaced soon after the death of Jesus if not during his life, that Jesus was the illegitimate son of Mary, and the supposed incarnation was a ludicrous cover story. Jesus may have performed miracles, but he did so as a sorcerer. It was not possible for a god to allow himself to be crucified. If Jesus had been in any sense divine, he would have appeared to the authorities and soldiers after his death, and for that matter, to everyone, and would have spoken in a very loud voice, so there would be no question of his divinity. Instead, he appeared to one woman and his band of disciples. The fact that few believed the report of his resurrection is itself proof of the lie. We don’t know what effect Celsus had on Christians of his own day, but his work, largely preserved in the response Against Celsus (Contra Celsum), written by Origen in the next century, offers a rare glimpse at what people in the Alexandrian marketplace were saying about Christianity in the second century. This Jesus came out of Egypt covered in tattoos and learned in the magical arts, an illegitimate son of Miriam the hairdresser and her paramour, a Roman soldier named Panthera, which may have been a pun on the Greek word for virgin, parthenos. Such a portrait of Jesus, the bastard sorcerer, undoubtedly has Jewish origins but was exacerbated by a host of “Christian” opportunists who roamed the empire, especially in Egypt, entertaining the gullible crowds and moving on with a fattened purse in hand. Against this the staid bishops of the old churches had little recourse but to cling to their roots.48

15.3.2 The Christian Defense The persecutions served only to encourage the faithful and inspire many a Hellene, a lesson not appreciated by the Roman government. But the attacks by sword and pen also inspired Christian men of letters to respond. Best known of the Christian apologists in this age are Justin Martyr and Melito. Justin Martyr (ca. 100–165) was born to Gentile parents in Flavia Neapolis (Nablus) in Samaria, the site of ancient Shechem. His youthful search for truth in the philosophies led him to embrace Plato’s goal of a celestial vision of God (Phaedrus). At about age thirty, as he tells it, Justin met an old man by the seashore who explained Christianity to him: Jesus the Messiah, who fulfilled the promises of the Hebrew Scriptures, died according to the Scriptures and rose up as the Son of God. Justin, though neither a Jew nor a Samaritan, was familiar with Judaism and its messianic hope, and he became a Christian then and there. Justin accepted the Jewish argument, propounded by Josephus and others, that Plato had studied Moses. Because Christianity was the perfection of Mosaic philosophy, he considered Christianity to be the supreme and original philosophy. For some years thereafter, Justin taught in Ephesus and its environs, expounding his Christian philosophy. While there, around 135, he met an educated Jew named Trypho who had recently come from war-torn Palestine. Justine engaged Trypho in dialogue


concerning the Christian faith, and some 20 years later he wrote what he claimed was the essence of the conversation in his Dialogue with Trypho. Justin left Asia Minor around 150 and came to Rome, where he opened his own school. He attracted many pupils, some of whom would advance Christianity, others who broke away from their teacher. At this stage, Justin wrote his two Apologies, the first dedicated to Antoninus Pius and the second to the same and Marcus Aurelius. Against the charge of atheism—which he admitted to, if defined as not believing in the gods—he replied that Christians believe in the one true God. Against the charge of disloyalty to Rome, he noted that Christ taught civil obedience, quoting “Render unto Caesar.” In brief, to God alone Christians give worship, but Caesar they gladly serve. Justin was not shy about using analogies from Greco-Roman religious traditions to explain Christian worship and doctrines, which traditions have sometimes been thought to be relics of the syncretistic origins of Christian doctrines but for him were a means of placing certain beliefs in a common context his audience would find normal. He also had to defend against rumors that Christians held orgies, in which they “extinguished the lamps” and engaged in promiscuity and even cannibalism, an accusation apparently derived from the ritual phrase of the Eucharist, “this is my body, eat.”49 In his defense of Christianity, Justin devoted considerable space to Hebrew Scriptures and Greek philosophy in order to prove the antiquity and reasonableness of the Christian faith. He showed how Christianity was the successor to the legitimate Jewish religion; that Moses had in fact predicted the advent of the Christ; and that numerous other prophecies confirmed their faith in him. From Greek philosophy, he drew a number of parallels with Christian doctrine, but primarily he used the concept of the Logos, Divine Reason, to establish the Christian faith. Essentially, he developed his doctrine from the Stoic idea of the logos spermatikos (generative Word), by which God sowed the seeds of truth. God revealed himself to the Jews in the recorded theophanies and to the Greeks in their wisdom. But as is the nature of the spreading of seed, each received only partial understanding. Now, the Logos has come fully in the person of Christ. Justin was denounced for his Christian faith in about 165. His accuser was said to be a Cynic, Crescens, whom Justin had often demolished in public debates. Justin and some of his students were ordered to sacrifice to the gods of Rome. They refused, and upon confession of being Christians, they were scourged and decapitated. For this he received his title of Martyr, Greek for “witness.”50 Another apologist was Melito of Sardis ( fl.160–190), the bishop over a small church in that city of Asia Minor. Melito wrote an open letter to the emperor, probably to Marcus Aurelius and his son Commodus, on their visit in 176. Like most Christians and Jews of the day, Melito expressed absolute loyalty to the emperor and Rome. Christians, however, were now suffering everywhere due to slanders and greedy men seeking to gain their possessions. He pointed out that Christianity was as old as the empire, since Jesus was born in the reign of Augustus. Our philosophy first grew up among the barbarians; but its full flower came among your nation in the great reign of your ancestor Augustus, and became an omen of good to

346 Vines Intertwined your empire, for from that time the power of the Romans became great and splendid. . . . Your ancestors nourished [Christianity] together with the other cults, and the greatest proof that our doctrine flourished for good along with the empire in its noble beginning is the fact that it met no evil in the reign of Augustus.51

It was, said Melito, only in the reigns of Nero and Domitian that false accusations against Christians were believed. He assumed the persecution of Christians was without the knowledge or permission of Marcus Aurelius and called on the emperor to investigate their accusers.

15.3.3 The Internal Challenge In this generation, individuals and groups who in some way identified themselves as Christians but who had broken significantly from the “trunk of the olive tree” appeared forcefully in history. They showed affinities with beliefs condemned already in the apostolic age, stressing the divinity of Jesus at the expense of his humanity and the power of knowledge to bring salvation. Among the earliest recognitions of this challenge is the warning of 1 Tim 6:20: “O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you. Avoid the godless chatter and contradictions of what is falsely called knowledge ( gnosis).” In the middle of the second century, Rome became a potpourri of Christian Gnostic thought. Chief among the earliest generation of these new Christian intellectuals was a man called Marcion. The spark that ignited the Gnostic flames, it has been suggested, was shock of the failure of the apocalyptic hope that fueled the Diaspora revolt (114–117).52 Around 140, a wealthy ship owner by the name of Marcion ( fl. 140–160) came to Rome from Sinope on the coast of the Black Sea. He had been raised a Christian, knew the writings of Paul, and worked for some time in Ephesus. He championed Paul’s preaching against the Judaizers in Galatia, freedom in Christ, and the necessary break from the requirements of Jewish law. Jesus Christ had done a new work, and Paul had preached a new gospel. No one should put “new wine into old wineskins.” But most Christian churches continued to rely on the Jewish Scriptures, to emphasize the fulfillment of Hebrew prophecy, and to cultivate an ethic from the Jews. As Marcion saw it, a mere century after Paul had confronted Peter and James in Jerusalem over his gospel and its freedom from the law, Christianity had sunk back into the old ways of Judaism. The Judaizers had won the battle. Marcion set about to deracinate the new covenant from the old and to reclaim the gospel of Paul. In so doing, he broke from the Christian continuity with the Hebrew Scriptures. He argued that Paul was the only true apostle of Christ and his letters were the only source of authority for the Christian. Even Paul’s letters had been corrupted by others, inserting references to Old Testament promises. Marcion edited them in order to revive the pristine gospel preached by Paul. The only other Gospel worthy of the name was the Gospel of Luke, which, with some editing could also be restored. All this was too much for the church in Rome, and Marcion was excommunicated. Marcion took his followers and started his own church.


Marcion was also troubled by the problem of evil in a world created by a God both all-loving and all-powerful. In his search for answers, and with the help of some Gnostic ideas floating around Rome, he developed his new form of Christianity and laid it out in a book entitled Antitheses. This doctrine of the new covenant developed along two antitheses, or contradictions. One was the freedom in Christ versus the bondage of the Jewish law. The other sought an answer to the problem of evil, which troubled Marcion. The teaching of Jesus was incompatible with the Hebrew law. Indeed, the God who sent Jesus to redeem humanity cannot have been the God of the Hebrew Bible. There were two gods: the God of Jesus, a God of mercy, and the God of the Jews and their old covenant, a God of judgment, a lesser deity, a demiurge (semi-power). This lesser deity was he who said, “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the Lord do all these things” (Isa 45:7). This god created the evil world, the world of flesh, while the great god, the unknown God, sent Jesus to redeem humanity from the world. Marcion’s doctrine is not properly Gnosticism, for he did not engage in speculation about the creation of the cosmos, or claim secret knowledge required for salvation, or even interpret the Scriptures allegorically, but his simple solutions to theological difficulties were similar to Gnosticism in its rejection of Jewish roots. His teaching spread rapidly and soon became the greatest rival to the apostolic faith. Before Marcion died around 160, he had carried his Pauline gospel to Asia Minor, and Marcionite Christianity exercised the old-guard Christian apologists of the following generations. As part of his legacy, he also forced other Christians to decide which writings of the apostles carried authority, and as such, he was a founder—if only in the form of a goad—of a New Testament canon. Gnosticism is a modern scholarly construct used to describe the beliefs of various teachers in the second century called Gnostic ( gnōstikos), a term they used to describe themselves.53 The Gnostic myth, developed by many hands in many directions, served to answer two basic questions: what is the origin of evil, and how can I be saved? The Gnostic solution was to develop an elaborate creation myth, based on Platonic and Stoic philosophy and Jewish doctrines of creation and eschatology. Gnostics posit an eternal, unknowable, “Being beyond being,” described as the Monad (single being) and called Bylos (depth). Knowledge ( gnosis), as such, begins with the emergence (from the posited monad) of a fundamental dualism, described as a dyad (twofold being). Further dyads emerge to form a primal ogdoad (eightfold being). From the primal Ogdoad, Powers emerge, one of which is Sophia (Wisdom). Sophia then separates from the other powers, and in falling away, Sophia produces Christ and the Demiurge (evil Creator). The Demiurge fashioned the evil world and evil human beings. But the Christ came to save some, the elect, and then returned to the divine realm. Two of the leading Gnostics were Basilides, a theologian of Alexandria in Egypt, and Valentinius, also from Egypt, who became a prominent teacher in Rome. Several documents among the cache of the Nag Hammadi library have been assigned to a Valentinian school of thought. Valentinus appeared in Rome around 140 and remained some 20 years. He is said to have come from Egypt, where he had studied under a certain Theodas, who was alleged to have studied under Paul.54


He gathered many pupils and wrote a number of works, all of which are lost except for fragments preserved by his opponents. Later works discovered among the Nag Hammadi library show his influence, but none have been convincingly traced back to him. He is credited, however, with being the first intellectual to produce a complete theology that serves as the core system modern scholars call Gnosticism. The Gnostic myth of Valentinus begins with the Unknowable God, a primal Monad, Bythos (Depth), who is necessarily the Ground of Being. Human understanding begins only with the emergence of a primal Dyad (twofold being) Ineffable and Silence. From this a second Dyad emanated, Father and Truth, and from this Tetrad arose two more dyads, Word (Logos) and Life, Man and Church. These comprise the primary Ogdoad. From Word and Life emerged ten Powers, and from Man and Church twelve more Powers. One of the twelve powers, Sophia (Wisdom), separated from the others, and in falling away, produced the known universe. All that is not Bythos is Pleroma (“Fullness” of celestial aeons). Two “Limits” define existence: one separates Bythos from Pleroma, and a second separates Pleroma from Sophia, now known as the fallen Mother. Sophia, in turn, produces Christ and the Demiurge (evil Creator), from which the devil and his minions emerge, and then human beings. Christ, however, returns to the Pleroma and sends Jesus to save the world.55 Basilides, probably a native of Alexandria, Egypt, wrote a 24-book commentary on the Bible called Exegetica. Our later sources retain only fragments of his work and offer differing accounts, so any reconstruction of his teaching is tentative, but it appears that Basilides was among the first to marry Gnostic and Christian thought and has been called the first Christian philosopher. According to Irenaeus, the first to describe the system of Basilides, the Unknowable God sent his firstborn Mind (nous), called the Christ, to liberate those who believe in him from the power of those who made the world. Christ appeared on earth as a man and performed miracles. At his crucifixion, when a certain man, Simon of Cyrene, was compelled to carry his cross, the Christ transfigured Simon into the body of Jesus, and the Christ took the body of Simon and ascended back to the father, while Simon, in the form of Jesus, was crucified. Elsewhere, Basilides is said to have taught the Jesus did suffer. If so, Basilides may have thought the Christ-Mind entered the body of Jesus at his baptism and ascended to God the Father at the crucifixion, while the body of Jesus suffered.56 The problem that confronted Gnostics, and would dog Christians for centuries, was the suffering of a divine being who, it was held, cannot suffer pain at the hands of mere mortals. Around the time Gnostics were flourishing in Alexandria and Rome, another internal challenge to Christian unity arose. The initial burst of anticipation that Jesus would soon return held by the believers during the early years of the apostolic generation had settled down after a century of delay. Suddenly, a new Christian convert called Montanus ( fl.157–172), from the village of Ardabau, near Philadelphia in Asia Minor, began an apocalyptic movement in Christianity that would influence many. Montanus roamed the region of Phrygia, in central Asia Minor, where many a doctrine found fertile ground. By means of trance and oracle, Montanus predicted the imminent return of Jesus. He was accompanied by two women


converts, Prisca and Maximilia. Little is known of Montanus, but his followers grew in number, called themselves the “New Prophecy,” and believed he was the Paraclete that Jesus had promised to send.57 He is reported to have said oracularly, “I am the Lord God almighty, dwelling in man,” and “Behold, man is as a lyre and I fly over it like a plectrum.”58 Such power of the living voice of God threatened the authority of the Scriptures and the received apostolic writings, so Montanism, like the Marcionites, probably contributed to the notion of a closed New Testament canon. The Montantists were among the rigorist segment of Christians who stressed ascetic disciplines, as well as spiritual gifts, often thought to imitate the original Christians of Pentecost. Many Christians were divided over the veracity of Montanus. Who was to decide between true and false prophecy? Some, like Irenaeus, while not joining the movement, defended it as strictly orthodox, if overly ardent, and within the bounds of divergent apocalyptic views. In the next generation, however, the movement would be widely denounced, to little avail. Irenaeus (ca. 130–ca. 200) tells us little about his life, though he may have come from Asia Minor, for he claims to have heard Polycarp in Smyrna while a young man. He studied in Rome and then became a presbyter in the church of Lyons, where he lived among the Celts and learned their language. He happened to be on a mission to Rome in 177, seeking tolerance for the Montanists, when the persecutions of Lyons occurred, and the bishop, Pothinus, was slain. On his return to Lyons, he took over the leadership. From the bishop’s cathedra Irenaeus wrote his tome Against Heresies, in which he attacked heretical teachings, primarily as preached by a certain Valentinus, “who adapted the principles of the heresy called ‘Gnostic’ to the peculiar character of his own school” (Against Heresies 1.11). He did not simply attack heretics, however, he defended what he believed was the universal faith, and for this he was remembered as the first great Catholic theologian. For the Church, though dispersed throughout the whole world, even to the ends of the earth, has received from the apostles and their disciples this faith: in one God, the Father Almighty, who made the heaven and the earth and the seas and all things that are in them; and in one Christ Jesus, the Son of God, who became incarnate for our salvation; and in the Holy Spirit, who proclaimed through the prophets the dispensations and the advents, and the birth from a virgin, and the passion, and the resurrection from the dead, and the incarnate ascension into heaven of the beloved Christ Jesus, our Lord, and his future manifestation from heaven in the glory of the Father to sum up all things (Eph 1:10) and to raise up anew all flesh and God and Savior and King, according to the will of the invisible Father. . . .59

He goes on to say that the congregations planted around the empire, in Germany, Spain, Gaul, the East (Mesopotamia?), Egypt, Lybia, and all the middle regions, have all received the same faith in their own languages. “Nor will any one of the rulers in the churches, however highly gifted he may be in point of eloquence, teach doctrines different from these.” While he no doubt paints too rosy a picture— for he was embroiled in at least two major controversies—he speaks of the same


union of congregations that a generation earlier Ignatius called “catholic” and in his own day Celsus called the “Great Church.” One of the new Christians whom Irenaeus condemned was a man called Tatian ( fl. 160–200), who probably hailed from Mesopotamia and became a pupil of Justin Martyr. After the death of his teacher, Tatian began expounding certain beliefs tinged with Gnostic views, as well as a strict asceticism, and for these Irenaeus condemned him. But Tatian also defended the faith given him by Justin and was far less approving of the Greek philosophers, who, in his view, had taken everything of value from Moses and done precious little good with what they took. Tatian also had a heart for his own people and produced for them his most important work, a harmony of the four canonical Gospels, called the Diatessaron. He either wrote it in Syriac or it was later so translated from his Greek (or Latin?) and became the primary text of the “Gospel” of the eastern Syriac-speaking Christians for three centuries.

Chapter 16

Severan Decay, Christian Growth, and the Glory of Judah the Prince (192–235 c.e.)

16.1 Roman Empire 16.1.1 Severus Septimius Severus, the African-born general of the legions on the Danube, was acclaimed emperor by his troops during the uncertainty at Rome following the assassination of Commodus. He faced two opponents for the throne, Pescennius Niger, commanding the legions of Syria and Egypt, and Clodius Albinus, commander of Britain. Severus bought himself time by appointing Albinus his heir apparent; then he defeated Niger at Byzantium on New Year’s Day in 194. Niger fled into Syria, Severus pursued, and within months, he executed Niger in flight. All the empire now recognized Severus, but he felt the need for legitimacy, so he launched a minor campaign in Mesopotamia in order to gain a victory against Rome’s enemy Parthia. He also adopted himself as the son of Marcus Aurelius and renamed his own son Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, but in so doing, he broke his promise to make Albinus his heir.60 When Severus visited Palestine in 195, Jews of northern Galilee erected an inscription in Greek: “For the welfare of our lords, the emperors Lucius Septimius Severus (the empress Julia Domna), Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (“Caracalla”) and Lucius Septimius Geta, his sons, a dedication ex voto of the Jews.”61 The reason for the inscription may have been a combination of gratitude and fear, since it is likely some Jews fought on the side of Niger against Severus, while most Jews who were already loyal to Rome, led by the patriarch Judah I, favored Severus. Albinus responded to the move of Severus by declaring himself emperor. He marched into Gaul, where he gained the support of the troops, and eventually that of Rome itself, though at this point, the city of Rome was irrelevant. Severus advanced with his powerful Danube Legions and defeated Albinus at Lugdunum, Gaul, where Irenaeus continued as bishop. Severus was now the sole de facto ruler of the Roman Empire. He dismissed the old Praetorian Guard and formed a new one from his victorious and loyal army. Severus despised the senate. He executed 29 senators and a number of lesser men who had supported Albinus and expropriated


their considerable wealth. He raised three new legions and stationed one just outside of Rome, a forceful reminder that Rome was now captive to the strongmen of the provinces. In the same year, 197, Severus launched a second campaign into Mesopotamia against Vologeses IV, the Parthian king who had captured the frontier city of Nisibis. Severus was victorious, but as he advanced against the old royal cities of Seleucia and Ctesiphon, his army suffered a minor defeat and he arranged a peace treaty that gave him part of northern Mesopotamia, which he annexed as the new province of Mesopotamia. During the upheaval of the war in Mesopotamia, there appears to have been a minor conflict between Jews and Samaritans in Palestine, which Eusebius recorded as the “Jewish and Samaritan War.”62 Ancient historians were divided over how to read the ambiguous entry: some thought it a war of Jews and Samaritans against Rome, others a war between Jews and Samaritans. In the absence of any external evidence for a war against Rome in Dio Cassius and elsewhere, it was likely the conflict was between Jewish and Samaritan people in the vicinity of Neapolis. Once the eastern frontier was stable, Severus inspected the provinces of Syria and returned to Rome in 202, where he remained for 6 years. Septimius Severus was significant on several counts. He was of Punic origin, the first emperor not of Italian stock, an example to many aspiring men across the empire, and he favored the equestrian ranks, opening the gate of opportunity to a new equestrian class from his legions. The Praetorian Guard became his imperial bodyguard, and he raised the base pay of his soldiers from 300 to 500 denarii. Under his administration, the brilliant jurist Aemilius Papinianus restructured and clarified Roman law. Severus showed unusual concern for the plight of the poor, and he encouraged senators to show more attention to the provinces. The so-called Severan Revolution essentially made the provinces equal to Italy, and it would fall to his son Caracalla to extend citizenship to virtually every free man in the empire. He was also a very religious—some would say superstitious—man who consulted astrologers, acted on his dreams, and built shrines to many gods of the empire, a perfect polytheist. Nonetheless, he is said to have banned “conversion to Judaism under heavy penalties and enacted a similar law in regard to the Christians.” Our source, the Historia Augusta, a collection of biographies by different authors on the emperors and the usurpers from 117 to 284, at this point becomes increasingly unreliable, but it may well be historical and does not undermine his overall benevolent attitude to the Jews of Judaea.63 Every emperor had to balance a public antipathy to Jews and Christians against the imperial support given by Jews throughout the empire, and particularly in the East. Severus would have merely followed the precedent of Antoninus Pius. Judaism remained a religio licita. During times of persecution of Christians Judaism provided a safe haven, and Eusebius mentions one Christian who converted back to Judaism.64 A more widespread persecution of Christians in 202 led to the deaths of many in North Africa, and in Carthage the Montanist heroine Perpetua was martyred. The principal failure of Severus was the raising of his sons. He made the elder, Antoninus, co-ruler in 198 with the title Augustus, and named his younger son, Geta, as Caesar. But over the next decade, a feud between the brothers so alarmed

Severan Decay, Christian Growth, and the Glory of Judah the Prince 353

Severus that he feared Antoninus would kill Geta. When the Caledonians (Scots) rose up in 208, Severus welcomed the excuse to get out of Rome. He took his entire family, hoping the preoccupation of war would settle the quarrel between his sons. He died of illness while in Britain, and Antoninus buried him.

16.1.2 Caracalla Aurelius Antoninus, better known by his nickname Caracalla, after the rough cloak he continued to wear, shared his rule and the palace for a few months, and then he had his brother, Geta, killed. There followed a bloodbath among the supporters of Geta. He furthered his reputation for senseless cruelty during an early campaign against the German tribes by ordering the massacre of a tribe allied with Rome. Caracalla pursued the policies of his father in a more grandiose, or megalomaniacal, manner. Just as his father had issued coins devalued to 60 percent silver, he devalued the coin of citizenship. In 212, he issued the Constitutio Antoniniana de Civitate, the Antonine constitution, an edict bestowing citizenship on nearly all free men and women in the empire. Suddenly the Jews, Christians, and not a few barbarians were Roman citizens. The move, said his historian, Dio Cassius (78.9), was to increase the taxpayer base and revenue for his excessive building programs, but it was also consistent with the egalitarian attitude begun by his father. In the edict itself, however, he thanks the gods of the Romans for salvation from his foes and shows his gratitude by increasing the number who will honor the gods.65 His greatest building project was to finish the Antonine Baths begun by his father. The luxurious marble baths, a complex of vaulted chambers and gardens, could hold up to 1600 people and survived into the sixth century. Like his father, Caracalla was very religious, involved in magic, and identified himself with the Egyptian deity Serapis. He showed considerable toleration, however, for Jews and Christians and may have shown favors to the Jewish patriarch, Judah the Prince, while passing through Syrian-Palestine. On the march to conquer all Parthia in 216, Caracalla visited Alexandria, Egypt, and upon the pretext of some slight to his dignity, sacked the city. When he later reached the Tigris, he found no enemy to fight and soon lost all respect from his soldiers. The following year his officers assassinated him, probably at the instigation of Macrinus, a prefect of the Praetorian Guard. Macrinus, a native of Mauretani, and the first man of the equestrian class to become emperor, survived for a year. The army acclaimed him, the senate reluctantly accepted him, and though Macrinus adopted himself into the Severan line, the family of the Severans despised him. The old ruling family put forward a grandnephew of Septimius Severus, Bassianus, as the legitimate heir. Bassianus served as the high priest of the sun god El Gabal, whose temple was in Emesa, Syria. When an eclipse of the sun occurred in April of 218, clearly a sign of divine displeasure, the legions in Syria proclaimed Bassianus emperor. Macrinus was defeated in battle near Antioch.


16.1.3 Elagabalus The Syrian entourage of Bassianus presented him as the illegitimate son of Caracalla, and he took the name Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. He was better known, however, as Elagabalus, the Latin form of the god El Gabal. The symbol of the god was a tall, conical black stone. Elagabalus brought the stone to Rome, built a temple, and established the oracular deity in a cult at Rome as deus Sol invictus Elagabalus, supreme god of the empire. He attempted to mitigate this Pantheon coup by marrying El Gabal to the goddess Minerva, but because she was a perpetual virgin, he was forced to secure a divorce and wed El Gabal to Juno Caelestis, the patron goddess of Carthage. He arranged for himself a Semitic sacred marriage by taking the Vestal Virgin, Aquilia, to wife. The celestial comedy amused no one. The ruling family responded to the widespread displeasure and forced Elagabalus to adopt his cousin Alexianus as Caesar, who assumed the name Severus Alexander. The heir apparent was popular with all, so that when Elagabalus attempted to kill his new Caesar, the emperor was himself assassinated.

16.1.4 Severus Alexander Severus Alexander (222–235) was only 14 years old and under the influence of his mother, Mamaea, when he took the throne. At age 17, Mamaea arranged his marriage to the daughter of a leading senator, who himself was adopted as Caesar, assuring, it was hoped, dynastic stability. Two years later, the father either attempted a coup or was simply accused of it and was executed, while the empress was banished and Alexander remained childless. During his reign Dio Cassius, the elderly senator and historian on whom we depend for much of the history since Trajan, was made consul twice. But the Praetorian Guard had become semi-autonomous and suspicious, so that Dio served his second consulship outside of Rome for fear of his life. Of passing interest for Jews and Christians, the Historia Augusta attests to the sympathies toward the Jews by Elagabalus and Severus Alexander, who is said to have honored a variety of divine beings and heroes, by keeping statues of them in his private sanctuary, including Abraham and Christ. His manner of living was as follows: First of all, if it were permissible, that is to say, if he had not lain with his wife, in the early morning hours he would worship in the sanctuary of his Lares, in which he kept states of the deified emperors—of whom, however, only the best had been selected—and also of certain holy souls, among them Apollonius [of Tyana], and, according to a contemporary writer, Christ, Abraham, Orpheus, and others of this same character and, besides, the portraits of his ancestors.66

Jews across the empire apparently favored the emperor. A synagogue inscription from Intercisa in Pannonia (near Dunaújváros, Hungary) honored him: To the eternal god. For the salvation of our lord, Severus A[lexander], the pious, felicitous emperor an[d Julia Mamaea] the empress, mother of the emperor, does Cosmius,

Severan Decay, Christian Growth, and the Glory of Judah the Prince 355 the chief of the customs station, the flautist and archisynagogos of the Jews, gladly fulfill his vow.67

Severus Alexander was also taunted by Greek Alexandrians as a synagogue chief, which, if a genuine tradition, may reflect imperial favors given to the Jews in Alexandria.68 Among the divine beings and holy men Severus Alexander patronized was Apollonius of Tyana, Cappadocia. Apollonius, contemporary of the apostolic generation and Josephus, wandered about as an ascetic holy man and itinerant miracle worker. He is said to have confronted both Nero and Domitian, from whose grasp he miraculously escaped. He also predicted the death of Domitian. Although he achieved sufficient notoriety during his life to become the focus of admiration and worship over the next century, his reputation was secured when Julia Domna, second wife of Septimius Severus, commissioned Flavius Philostratus to author a Life of Apollonius of Tyana, intentionally, it appears, as a Neo-Pythagorean parallel to the life of Jesus. Apart from the imaginative work of Philostratus, however, virtually nothing is known of Apollonius’s life. Upon his death (ca. 98), says Philostratus, Apollonius ascended to heaven. Apollonius was revered here and there, with statues erected and shrines built. At the turn of the fourth century, Hierocles, the governor of Bythinia, wrote a pamphlet in praise of Apollonius at the expense of Jesus, but Apollonius never became a serious contender to Jesus, if indeed, that was the intention of Julia Domna or Philostratus.69 Early in the reign of Severus Alexander an upheaval occurred in the East that would affect the next four centuries. The Parthian kingdom had decayed alongside the Roman Empire, and the old Arsacid rulers were overthrown. One of the princes of Iran, Ardashir, rebelled against the weak king Artabanus V around 224 and took the throne in 227. By 230, Rome learned that Ardashir had invaded the Roman province of Mesopotamia and attacked the city of Hatra. Alexander marched to Mesopotamia, but the battles resulted in a stalemate and the disgruntled troops remained loyal only by a donative bribe. Alexander returned to Rome to find the Germans rising up on the Rhine and Danube in a new confederation known as the Alemanni. Alexander prepared to campaign against them but then accepted the counsel of his mother, Julia Mamaea, and paid off the Germans with gold. His lackluster performance as a military commander invited a mutiny, and when challenged by one of his generals, his troops deserted, and both he and his mother were caught and executed in the spring of 235. The Severan dynasty came to an end, and the age of western anarchy began.

16.2 Jews 16.2.1 Jews of Palestine This generation in the history of the Jews of Palestine is remembered in rabbinic tradition as a golden age, due to the presence and stature of the patriarch


Judah I ( fl. 170–220). The times were favorable for Palestine during the Severan dynasty. Roads were repaired and new ones constructed. Cities were restored, and two new ones founded: one called Septimia Eleutheropolis between Aelia Capitolina (Jerusalem) and Gaza, and the other was Lucia Septimia Severa Diospolis, rebuilt from the town of Lydda. The improvement of urbanization no doubt encouraged the elite class to flourish, and it is in this context that we find the emergence of the patriarchate as a viable institution for the first time. The rise of Judah “the Prince” to such prominence among the rabbinic movement, and his otherwise unexplained wealth, has led some scholars to argue that Judah was already a member of the Galilean aristocracy, and not the son of Simeon b. Gamaliel II. That is to say, Judah was a true aristocrat, perhaps the nasi (prince) of a city, who became a rabbi, thus garnering the praise of the rabbinic movement, for whom such a prestigious member was a coup. Judah, it is argued, facilitated the transfer of rabbinic support from Gamaliel’s family by naming his own son Gamaliel, and a new dynasty was grafted into the previous leadership of the rabbinic movement.70 Whether this revisionist proposal will stand or not remains to be seen, but there is a general acceptance that Judah was the first patriarch with unambiguous political power in Palestine, and may have been first to hold the title of nasi within the patriarchate dynasty. Following rabbinic tradition, Judah was born on the day of Akiba’s martyrdom, reckoned at 135.71 The infant Judah survived the Hadrianic persecution and grew up at Usha, where his father served as patriarch during difficult times. His primary teacher was Judah ben Korshai, an expert in legal rulings who assisted his father, but he studied Torah and tradition under Judah b. Ilai and Simeon b. Yohai, and in his youth he knew all the students of Akiba. He did not study with Meir, probably because of the antagonism between Meir and his father, but he did have recourse to Nathan. Judah also studied with Eleazar b. Shammua at his father’s direction, in an attempt to make peace with the Akiban opposition to the patriarchate.72 Once, when Judah was insulted by a fellow student Eleazer, the son of Simeon ben Yohai, he complained to his father. Rabban Simeon replied, “Let it not grieve you, for he [Eleazar] is a lion, and the son of a lion, whereas you are a lion, the son of a fox.”73 As the son of the elite class, Judah learned Greek so that he might deal with government officials, and he favored it over Aramaic. In seeking a comparison, we should put forward Josephus, if not Philo, as a true Jewish aristocrat. In the household of the patriarchate, however, they spoke Hebrew. Judah succeeded Simeon ben Gamaliel as patriarch during the reign of Marcus Aurelius (ca. 170). Soon after, he moved from Usha south to Beth Shearim on the rim of the Jezreel Valley. (The necropolis of Beth Shearim retains bone boxes of famous rabbis.) Toward the end of the century he again moved his residence and court north to Sepphoris, by then called Diocaesarea. The wealth and prestige of Judah’s court earned him the title ha-Nasi (“the prince”), and he appropriated many royal trappings and prerogatives during his reign. To properly appreciate the stature of Judah I, it is necessary to clearly distinguish his patriarchate from the notion of chief rabbi. He wielded political power; the rabbis did not, except by his leave. Judah I also served as a symbolic unifier for the Jews of the Diaspora, like the Herodian kings Agrippa I and II had done in their day, and this would increase his value to


the empire.74 The extent to which Rome recognized Judah as the head of the Jewish people is debated, but according to the Christian scholar Origen, who lived in Caesarea of Palestine, the patriarch was like an ethnarch (ruler of the people) and differed little from a true king. Now, for instance, that the Romans rule, and the Jews pay the two drachmas [fiscus Iudaicus] to them, how great is the power wielded by the ethnarch, granted by Caesar. We who have experienced it know that he differs in no way from a king of a nation. Secret trials are held according to the Law, and some people are condemned to death— neither with explicit permission nor without the knowledge of the rulers. And this we learned in the land of this nation where we spent much time and were fully convinced.75

Even though Jews had not been granted the power of capital punishment, the emperors would easily have turned a blind eye when a ruler, such as Judah I, was able to keep society stable at the price of a few executions. In an age when emperors executed Roman senators by the handful just to obtain their wealth, it is unlikely they would quibble with Judah the Prince. This was consistent with the policy of Rome to enforce the Jewish implementation of most civil laws, such as divorce, as well as laws regarded as religious.76 Several traditions claim the patriarch kept a bodyguard, identified variously as German or Gallic troops, but the true nature of this band of handlers is murky at best, and the often perpetuated idea that they were a gift of the emperor is mere speculation.77 The effort of Judah I to rule the people of Palestine is preserved in two unusual actions. First, he sought to lighten the burden of the Sabbatical Year by declaring certain cities, including Caesarea Philippi (Panias) and Scythopolis, to be outside the boundary of the Holy Land, hence not subject to the Sabbatical Year restriction against agriculture. It further allowed them to eat vegetables without being tithed. At the same time, these territories were regarded as within the Holy Land for the purpose of purity, so that priests and Levites could live there without taint of Gentile defilement. In another halakhic act, apparently aimed at improving the national attitude toward Rome, Judah I “attempted to uproot the 9th of Av,” the fast day mourning the destruction of the temple; a move that, though unsuccessful, was based on the principle that the fast days directed attention to the oppression of Rome, and such national mourning was no longer appropriate under Roman rule. Judah I arbitrated disputes over taxes between the leading citizens of the city and the council (boule), and it is said “on the seventeenth of Tammuz he would go to the public bath [in Sepphoris],” which meant feasting on a fast day.78 A number of legends celebrate royal encounters between “Rabbi” Judah I and “Antoninus,” one or more of the Roman emperors who ruled during his tenure as patriarch. Again, the historical basis for the legends is widely disputed, but such legends are unlikely to be pure fiction, which itself requires a plausible explanation. The leading figures for “Antoninus” are Caracalla or his father Severus. Both father and son favored the non-Italian population of the empire, and Severus was married to a woman from the Syrian nobility with numerous contacts in Coele-Syria. Further evidence comes from a friendship coin minted in Sepphoris during the reign of Caracalla (211–217). The inscription on the reverse of the


bronze coin reads: “Diocaesarea the Holy, City of Shelter, Autonomous, Loyal [a treaty of] Friendship and Alliance with the Romans.”79 By the time of this coin, Judah I had moved his court to Sepphoris, and the Jewish-Roman relations among the leaders were at their height; a condition with marked similarity to the early years of the Hasmonean dynasty and its treaties of friendship with Rome. And two centuries later, Jerome would recall, “Severus and his son Antoninus greatly favored the Jews.”80 Several of the rabbinic legends are both politically significant and historically plausible.81 Antoninus granted land in the Gaulanitis to the patriarch, which accords with the claim in the Historia Augusta that Severus handed out land grants to several communities in Palestine while on his way to Alexandria in 201; Antoninus consulted Rabbi about making Tiberias a colony and on the potential for revolt in Egypt; he discussed the expertise of the patriarchal house in breeding cattle; and he presented a gold candlestick, suitably inscribed, from “Antoninus to Rabbi.” Judah I is also reputed to have exchanged gifts and negotiated with Ardavan, the Parthian contender for the throne, on behalf of Caracalla around 216. Later legends enthusiastically claim that “Antoninus” became a convert, was circumcised, and would lead the righteous Gentiles at the resurrection. The recognition given by the emperors to Judah, whatever its precise nature may have been, established him as an eminent leader among the Jews of Palestine in the system of patronage by which all government functioned, and there is no reason to suppose the esteem given the patriarch was not largely shared by the Jewish community. Within Palestine, other Jewish leaders, including sages, had always realized the importance of a strong head of the community during times of imperial decay, and they endorsed the royal trappings of his court even at the expense of their own power. During his reign, an official public salutation to the patriarch each morning was established, among whom were tenants on his vast estates and heads of families seeking an audience. When Judah entered the assembly, all rose until he was seated.82 Judah’s ordination of rabbis was accepted by all Jewish communities. He probably sent out emissaries called “apostles” (apostoloi) to Jewish communities across the Mediterranean Diaspora, both to oversee synagogue leadership and to collect various taxes due to the patriarchate.83 There was, of course, opposition to his exercise of power, and opposition to the patriarchate would intensify after Judah’s death when lesser descendants filled his shoes, but in his own day, he appears to have ruled as a true prince. Severus also granted Jews the right to take up the office of Decurion, a local councilor, appointed on criteria including wealth, age, free birth, and reputation. It was more of an onerous obligation dressed up as an honor, but it altered the political system for Jews in Palestine who would now sit with Gentiles on local city councils. The grant of citizenship in 212 enabled Jews to join more fully in municipal government. A limited number of clergy were exempt from the decurionate, and this gave the patriarch new power over any wealthy rabbis who wished to escape not only taxes but also the responsibilities of civil service. It appears that during the time of Judah I, the patriarch gained the right of veto over the ordination of rabbis, while his own appointments could not be challenged.84 Furthermore, if the rabbis


excommunicated someone, the patriarch was not bound by it, but his excommunications were binding everywhere, including Babylonia.85 Judah was one of the few patriarchs to gain the admiration of the rabbis for his knowledge of Torah and halakhah, as well as his ability to govern. For that reason he was also known simply as “Rabbi,” the master par excellence. Rabbah of Babylonia would later say, “Between Moses and Rabbi we do not find one who was supreme both in Torah and in worldly affairs.”86 That is among the more sober assessments. In the course of the next three centuries, the court of Judah the Prince was cloaked in legends that make him the King Arthur of Palestinian Jewry. The death of Judah, when it came, is recalled as a contest between the angels and the rabbis, both struggling for possession of the patriarch. The angels tugged on Rabbi’s soul from above, while the rabbis held on to their leader through continuous prayer. But Rabbi’s handmaid saw how he suffered in his ailing body, so she threw a jar down from the roof: it shattered beside the praying rabbis, they paused momentarily, and Rabbi’s soul escaped to heaven.87 Judah’s crowning achievement for Judaism was the Mishnah, a compilation of legal precedents and opposing views designed for internal use by the sages. It also contained words of wisdom for living a holy life associated with the early Tannaim. The editorial work required many years and was supplemented later by a second volume, the Tosefta, but the Mishnah became the heart of rabbinic tradition both in Palestine and in Babylonia for the next two centuries. The name Mishnah comes from the verb shanah (“to repeat”), used by the sages for collections of teachings and laws. The laws of the Mishnah were categorized in six orders (sedarim), subdivided into 63 tractates (masekhetot). The orders were Zeraim (“Seeds”) dealing with planting, harvesting, and tithes of produce; Moed (“Appointed Times”), sabbath and holy days; Nashim (“Women”), concerning laws that apply to women under male control, including marriage and divorce; Neziqin (“Damages”), covering civil and criminal law; Kodashim (“Holy Things”), pertaining to the temple cult in Jerusalem; Toharot (“Purities”), which deals with ways to become ritually impure and regulations of ritual purification.88 The Mishnah also includes two non-halakhic tractates, Eduyyot (“Testimonies”) and Avot (“Fathers”), which preserve the wisdom of the early sages. As noted earlier, the tractate Avot begins with a chain of authority from Moses to the sages, in a sort of succession list: “Moses received the Torah from Sinai,” until it reached a succession of named sages. Not only does the succession claim authority of Moses, but also it excludes Mosaic authority from all others. The exclusion of others (minim, “heretics”), in its own way resembles the heresiology of the church father Irenaeus during the same generation, and of others later. Prominent among the authorities is the patriarchal lineage from Hillel up through “Rabbi” and his son Gamaliel III, granting them the prophetic office alongside the office of kingship.89 Following the publication of the Mishnah, the age of the Tannaim came to an end and the age of the Amoraim began. The name Amora (singular) comes from the word amar, “to say” or “to comment”; hence the Amoraim are the commentators on the teachings of the Tannaim. Like the Tannaim, the Amoraim are dated by generations, but even the generations have been counted differently by Christian


and Jewish scholars so that some confusion remains, although their actual flourit is consistent in the modern calendar. The close associates of Judah among the rabbis included Hiyya Rabbah of Babylonia, who served as a courtier liaison with the Babylonian Jews, Simeon ben Halafta, a gifted preacher, Levi ben Sisi, who helped Judah compile the Mishnah traditions, and Simeon ben Manasseh, a member of “the holy brotherhood,” a small group of sages that divided the day into thirds, of study, prayer, and work.90 Judah the Prince appointed his younger son Gamaliel to succeed him as patriarch. Tradition preserves little of the administration of Gamaliel III, reckoned from 220 to 235. Gamaliel continued the revision of the Mishnah. He was aware of the difficulties of his office, caught between the people and the emperors. Among his preserved sayings: “Be heedful of the ruling power for they bring no man nigh to them save for their own need; they seem to be friends such time as it is to their gain, but they stand not with a man in his time of stress.”91 But he also identified with Moses in his complaint about the unreasonable desires of the people: “If flocks and herds be slain for them, will they suffice them? or if all the fish of the sea be gathered together for them, will they suffice them?”92 For their part, the rabbis of this generation dealt with the challenges of an agrarian economy, whether or not they could actually influence it. They were aware of the biblical mandate for social justice, and they fostered the biblical egalitarianism of the ideal Israel that ignored the actual social status of society. On the other hand, their rulings on economic matters such as the market, labor, and loans favored the wealthy landowners and employers, thereby sustaining the class structure and the resultant poverty of the masses. If an employer was faced with a certain loss due to some deception by the worker, they allowed the employer to cheat. In general, the Mishnah rulings appear to favor the landed gentry who hired the laborers that worked the fields. Based on their rulings, it may be argued that many of the rabbis were increasingly from the urban elite segment of Jewish society, and their point of view was consonant with the elite class throughout the Roman Empire.93 This was necessary if they were to function within the patriarchal court.

16.2.2 Jews of Babylonia The disciples of Rabbi Ishmael who had remained in Babylonia, and a few disciples of Akiba who joined them, strengthened the early rabbinic presence among the vast Jewish community along the Euphrates. The school at Nisibis, under the patronage of the Bathyran clan, had served as a liaison to the sages since the middle first century, and now additional schools were established. Josiah, the prominent pupil of Rabbi Ishmael, taught at the academy of Judah Bathyra II in Nisibis for a while but then founded his own school at Huzal, his native village along the Euphrates near the capital Seleucia-Ctesiphon. His son, Ahai, spent many years studying in Palestine and then returned to Babylonia an ordained rabbi. Another school was started at Kafri, near Sura, in south Babylonia, and later a school was begun at Nehardea, probably by a little-known sage named Shila. The sages communicated with their colleagues in Palestine and sent disciples to train there.


The leadership of the Jews in Babylonia remains obscure until this generation. Although Rabbi Nathan’s father may have been an early de facto head of Parthian Jews, the first person explicitly identified as exilarch was Huna I (ca. 170–210). Little is known of his life except that he led the illustrious Babylonian Jewish community and claimed paternal descent from King David, while Judah I, though he presided over the Holy Land, could claim only maternal descent from King David. Among the most important sages to arise in Babylonia at this time was Hiyya Rabbah, a native of Kafri, and kin to Exilarch Huna I.94 He spent his early years in Babylonia and married a woman named Judith, whom tradition does not portray kindly. Judith bore him two sons, Judah and Hezekiah, but thereafter she took a drug that rendered her barren and used to complain a great deal about her husband. Hiyya bequeathed to tradition the blessing “May God preserve you from an evil worse than death—a contentious woman.”95 Hiyya may have studied at Huzal, and even for a time at Nisibis, but later he went to Palestine and settled in Tiberias, where he exported silk to Tyre. He studied medicine as well as theology. He used his wealth to found schools for boys in Palestine to help reestablish an educated class. For this, a later sage compared Hiyya with Ezra and Hillel, who both came up from Babylonia to establish Israel, and he is known in rabbinic tradition as Hiyya Rabbah (the Great), to distinguish him from others of that name. Hiyya’s reputation soon reached the court of Judah the Prince, and Hiyya became a regular councilor to the patriarch. Hiyya, however, as a distinguished Babylonian, esteemed Exilarch Huna above Judah the Prince, and Judah apparently feared that the exilarch would come to Israel to claim his rightful leadership of all Jews. In a famous indiscretion of Hiyya, if not an exercise of malicious humor, when at last the body of Huna was brought up to Palestine for burial, Hiyya entered the official residence of Judah I and announced, “Huna is here.” Judah turned pale. Hiyya then added, “His bier has come.”96 The two ruling families among Jews in Babylonia and Palestine recognized each other, and both traced their lineage back to King David. Whether or not either lineage was genuine was immaterial, since the claim was made and accepted as legitimate to their authority. Josi ben Kefar made at least three trips to Babylonia to collect funds for the patriarch and may have served as part of a regular office of apostles of the patriarch to maintain communications with the Diaspora.97 Although most Jews, whether in the Roman or Persian empires, were farmers or engaged in some agricultural labor, the relationship between Palestinian and Babylonian Jews was facilitated by, if not founded upon, commerce. Babylonian Jews had long participated in the silk trade. Jewish merchants had the advantage of contacts among their own people from Spain to India and even China. Their contacts and the local synagogues afforded safe haven for merchant travel. Galilee itself lay within a Syrian silk-weaving region and participated in the manufacture of silk cloth so desired by Rome. The lucrative silk trade produced wealthy men, some of whom were among the earliest native-born Babylonian rabbis. Besides Hiyya Rabbah, who traveled extensively in his silk trade, a cousin of his, another Babylonian scholar, Abba Arika (Abba the Tall), dealt in silk.98 During the time of Judah I, Abba Arika came to study in Palestine, where he mastered traditional lore.


So also the sage Abba bar Abba, a wealthy silk merchant, often visited Palestine and brought his son Samuel with him. Samuel spent some time studying in the court of Judah I before returning to Babylonia to establish his own school and reputation. At the start of the third century, according to rabbinic tradition, the Babylonian Jews emerge as socially superior to their brethren in Palestine. The exilarch was probably more esteemed by the Parthian rulers than the patriarch was by the Roman emperors. It is even possible that the Parthian government established the office of exilarch as a rival to the patriarch of Palestine in order to compete for the loyalty of Jews in the eastern territories of the Roman Empire. The leading sages of Babylonia who emerged from the ruling class were associated with the exilarchate, and this would be the case for the next two centuries. It was only in mastery of Torah, and therefore, observance of halakhah, that the Babylonians recognized their lower status. Tradition claims that Judah I, toward the end of his life, said of Jewish communities in Babylonia that one town was populated by Ammonites, another of mamzerim (illegitimate births), and in another brothers exchanged wives.99 The rabbis in Babylonia, who drew their authority from the rabbis in Palestine, exercised minimal influence over the Jewish communities, limited as they were to persuasion and excommunication. On one occasion, a pond fed by a river overflowed on the sabbath, and the Jews went and harvested the fish. Rabbi Ahai ben Josiah excommunicated them for breaking the sabbath. In response, they are said to have “abandoned their Judaism,” or more likely they rejected rabbinic authority.100

16.3 Christians 16.3.1 Roman West In this generation, the center of Christian intellectual development shifts south, from Gaul and Rome to the cities of Alexandria and Carthage. Granted the dearth of evidence for the early spread of Christianity, one of the more puzzling gaps is the virtual silence regarding the growth of Christianity in the cultural center of Alexandria. An early scholarly explanation was that the first Christians in Alexandria were archheretics, mostly varieties of Gnostics, and the victorious orthodox Christians left the works of the heretics in the trash heaps, from which only a few copies of their vast literature survived. But arguments from silence are difficult to maintain, and recent scholarship has put forth a more cogent scenario that locates early Christianity in the Hellenistic Jewish synagogue, hence in the forum of Philo. After the Diaspora war of 115–117, Hellenistic Judaism as known in Alexandria seems to have disappeared. In its place, Christianity emerged, both in its Gnostic and simple faith (orthodox) forms. One convenient typology of the varieties of Christian faith that has been proposed is as follows: (1) Jewish believers, whose number will have strongly declined after 117; (2) Apocalyptics, as evidenced in the Sybilline Oracles, who were convinced that the last days would soon come, as prophesied in the Scriptures;


(3) The simpliciores or orthodoxoi, who adhered to the “naked faith” and considered all philosophical or theological speculation superfluous; (4) Encraitites espousing a radical asceticism that even went so far as to deny salvation to those not practicing complete abstinence; (5) Gnostic Christians, for whom the salvation brought by Christ was the acquisition of special spiritual insight concerning the transcendent origin of the elect and the radically evil nature of the cosmos; (6) Platonizing Christians, who used Greek philosophical concepts to make their faith intellectually more acceptable.101 Such neat typologies are always blurred by reality, but it gives a realistic focus to the variety of Christian trajectories found in Alexandria. Toward the end of the second century, an intellectual in the tradition of Justin Martyr and Irenaeus emerged by the name of Clement of Alexandria. And at that time, we find Christianity well-established in Alexandria, with not only churches but also a catechetical school from which not a few important thinkers will graduate. 16.3.1.1 Clement of Alexandria Tradition says Clement (ca. 150–215) was born in Athens, and like Justin, studied philosophy before converting to Christianity. Clement was an exemplar of his time and location. His interests were broad, and his anthology of learning in Miscellanies (Stromateis, formerly Stromata) reveals a man of vast learning who kept a large library. He had much to say on Gnostics and showed considerable leanings in that direction. His goal was to find the golden mean between the errorprone Gnostics and those of the simple faith, the simpliciores or orthodox. True gnosis, like gold, remains true, whether in the hands of thieves and charlatans or philosophers and bishops. Clement’s prominence in a history of Jews and Christians, however, comes from his admiration of Philo, his philosophical forefather. He is the first Christian to cite Philo, and along with his teacher, Pantaenus, is a key figure in rescuing Philo’s works from oblivion. There is no trace of how it occurred; we only know that it occurred. It is possible that Philo’s works were preserved initially by his own disciples, perhaps in a school where he taught, and that Pantaenus became a member of that school in his own generation following the Diaspora revolt of 115–117. Another possible link between the Jews and Christians of Alexandria is the group known to Philo as Therapeutae. Philo devoted his treatise On the Contemplative Life to them and eulogized them as physician ascetics devoted to God. They devoted themselves to meditation on divine things and the allegorical interpretation of Scripture, and they met on the sabbath and other holy days for worship. As a pre-Christian monastic order, they remain a tantalizing link with early Christians who might easily have joined their ranks. Indeed, Eusebius was persuaded that the Therapeutae mentioned by Philo were early Christians.102 Although he was probably mistaken,


the association may have been a tradition of the early church that was not without some historical ties in the late first century. We simply do not know. Clement refers to Philo by name on four occasions. In his argument for the antiquity of Jewish philosophy among all ancient wisdom, he says: Of all these, by far the oldest is the Jewish race; and that their philosophy committed to writing has the precedence of philosophy among the Greeks, the Pythagorean Philo shows at large; and, besides him, Aristobulus the Peripatetic, and several others. . . .103

That he calls Philo a Pythagorean, and the Jew Aristobulus a Peripatetic, is to label them as philosophers, not to mask their Jewishness. In arguments against the dualism of Marcion and other Gnostics, Clement found Philo useful in explaining the Mosaic laws philosophically; that God, the lawgiver, is both merciful and just. Although Clement rarely names Philo, he mines Philo’s works anonymously in considerable depth throughout his early writings on the doctrines of God, both knowledge of God and being God-like. In the end, it was by the hand of Clement that Philo’s legacy entered into Christian doctrine. Clement left Alexandria sometime during the persecutions of 202, but he bequeathed his learning and love of Philo to a youth named Origen, who would take the Jewish philosopher with him to the next generation. 16.3.1.2 Tertullian The age of the Christian apologists, reckoned from 120 to 220, came to a close in this generation, but it went out in a blaze of glory known as Tertullian (ca.160– 225). It was a century during which educated Christians defended the faith against mob violence that passed under the permissive gaze of the emperors. The defense was marked by affirmations of loyalty to the emperor, though Christians were not permitted to perform idolatrous rituals to express it. They answered slanders and accusations against Christian practices that were leveled against them by Hellenes and Gnostics. In the process, they advanced explanations of their beliefs in God and Jesus Christ and described the piety and moral fiber of Christians. Many also wrote in defense of the superiority of Christianity against the Jews. The age began with the likes of Quadratus and Aristides of Athens and included Athenagoras of Athens, Apollinarius of Hieropolis, Theophilus of Antioch, Melito of Sardis, Justin Martyr, Tatian, and Minucius Felix, among others. Finally came the acerbic tongue of Tertullian, and with him a new breed of rigorist Christian. Tertullian, a Carthaginian by birth, studied literature and rhetoric in his youth and became a Christian before 197. A few years later, he joined a Montanist sect, which appealed to his rigorist tendencies. His contribution to the growth of Christianity lay in his theological works on key doctrines and moral issues of his day and his spirited defense of the Christian faith, both against Roman persecution and Christian heresies. It is Tertullian who gave Christian history so many memorable passages. Against the widespread belief that Christian refusal to worship the gods resulted in natural disasters, he says, “If the Tiber reaches the walls, if the Nile does not rise


to the fields, if the sky doesn’t move or the earth does, if there is famine, if there is plague, the cry is at once: ‘The Christians to the lion!’ What, all of them to one lion?” Then he enumerates famous disasters of the past and asks not where were the Christians then, but “where were your gods themselves in those days?”104 In defense of Christian loyalty to Rome, he points out that their Scriptures command Christians to pray for enemies, persecutors, and kings. There is another need, a greater one, for our praying for the Emperors, and for the whole estate of the empire and the interests of Rome. We know that the great force which threatens the whole world, the end of the age itself with its menace of hideous suffering, is delayed by the respite which the Roman Empire means for us. We do not wish to experience all that; and when we pray for its postponement are helping forward the continuance of Rome. . . . But why need I say more of the religious awe, the piety, of Christians, where the Emperor is concerned? We must needs respect him as the chosen of our Lord. So I have a right to say, Caesar is ours more than yours, appointed as he is by our God.105

On the spread of Christians he says: We are but of yesterday, and we have filled everything you have—cities, tenements, forts, towns, exchanges, yes! and camps, tribes, palace, senate, forum. All we have left to you is the temples. For what war should we not have been fit and ready even if unequal in forces—we who are so glad to be butchered—were it not, of course, that in our doctrine we are given ampler liberty to be killed than to kill?106

Perhaps his most memorable quote came from his firsthand experience of the persecution and martyrdom of Christians: “The oftener we are mown down by you, the more in number we grow; the blood of Christians is seed.”107 Tertullian wrote many books on theology and laid the foundation for Latin Christianity. He also wrote a tract In Answer to the Jews. In it he followed traditional arguments that God dealt with humanity and found righteous people long before the law was given to Moses. Tertullian placed great weight on natural law, available to all humanity, from Adam onward. This unwritten law of first principles was kept by men like Noah and Abraham. This law, which is both universal and eternal, and not the temporary law given to Moses, has passed on to the Gentiles. As to the necessity of circumcision, Abraham pleased God before circumcision, and Moses neglected to circumcise his own sons. Tertullian cites Jeremiah (4:3–4) on the true circumcision of the heart that inaugurates the new covenant (31:31–34). The proof of the gospel is that Jesus fulfilled numerous prophecies, and Christ became the seal of the prophets; for once Daniel had prophesied his coming, the prophets ceased. Now Christianity is reaching the entire world in fulfillment of the purpose of God—something the Jews had failed to do, as proved by the destruction of the temple of Jerusalem. All the earth awaits the second advent of the Messiah, who will indeed rule over all the earth. His final proof text is Psalm 2:7–8: “I will tell of the decree of the Lord: He said to me, ‘You are my son, today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession.’ ” Tertullian’s argument is novel only in his confidence that God will be victorious through Christians, who have replaced the Jews.


16.3.1.3 Hippolytus Hippolytus (ca.170–236) seems to have been among the most prominent theologians of his day in Rome, but most of his writings did not survive for lack of enduring interest. He was a presbyter in the church of Rome and made the acquaintance of Origen while the Alexandrian scholar lectured there around 212. Besides the doctrinal disputes customary among theologians, Hippolytus objected to the moves by some bishops of relaxing the penance demanded prior to baptism due to the large numbers of converts. This led to a conflict in the church of Rome. Hippolytus broke with bishop Zephyrinus (198–217) and later opposed the election of Callistus in 217, whom he regarded as a heretic. Hippolytus was elected as a rival bishop, and he held this antagonistic and unofficial position until 235, when he was exiled to Sardinia by the Roman government. He died there within a year, due no doubt to hard labor in the mines, but during this time he was reconciled to the church. The body of Hippolytus was returned for burial, and he was soon listed among the martyrs. His most useful work to the historian is the Elenchos or “Refutation of All Heresies,” in which he argues that all the heresies are derived from Greek philosophy. He describes and refutes a host of varying beliefs that fell under the banner of deviations from true Christianity, sometimes agreeing with Irenaeus, other times giving rather different views. Curiously, he includes a lengthy description of the Jewish sects, the Essenes and Pharisees, taken no doubt from Josephus. He notes that the Jews continue to await the Messiah, a warrior king who will come and lead them back to Israel and a restored Jerusalem. He is, of course, speaking from his knowledge of Jews in the Roman Diaspora, not the rabbinic circles. Hippolytus, in his description of the tawdry life of Callistus before Callistus became the bishop of Rome, provides a glimpse of the Jews in Rome. Callistus was the slave of a Roman nobleman and worked as his investor. He lost a good deal of his master’s money by fraud, and once it was discovered, he contrived a plan to get himself out of trouble. He entered a synagogue on the sabbath, stood up and identified himself as a Christian, and then harangued the Jewish congregation. They beat him and dragged him off to court. When his master learned of it, he told the judge that the slave Callistus was not a Christian but was trying to escape the great debt he owed, either by death or by exile. The Jews, however, thought this debt allegation by his master was just a scheme of Callistus to evade punishment for defiling their synagogue service, and in the end they won the case. Callistus was exiled to Sardinia, where he labored until he was pardoned by Commodus through the efforts of one of his concubines. In due course, after the death of his former master, Callistus worked his way up the ladder of the church. Whether the story by Hippolytus is calumny or not, the mention en passant of the disturbance in the synagogue portrays another day in the life of Jewish-Christian relations around the empire.108

16.3.2 Syrian East By this generation Christians had spread across the Syrian east and into Mesopotamia and Persia. It appears that at some point during the second century the


Hebrew Scriptures were translated into the Aramaic-Syriac dialect of Edessa, probably by Jewish believers or perhaps by a team of Jews and Christians.109 The important eastern city of Nisibis came under Roman control in the wars of 162–167 and 30 years later was annexed within the province of Mesopotamia under Septimius Severus. The era of peace facilitated trade and the expansion of Christianity. Just as the Christians in the east suffered less from Roman persecution, they also were more free in their beliefs. Marcionite Christianity and the preaching of Tatian prospered in a culture steeped in Persian dualism. Abercius Marcellus, bishop of Hierapolis in Phrygia (west central Asia Minor), traveled to Rome, and on his return he took a circuitous journey through Mesopotamia. Later, in preparation for death at age seventy-two, he wrote his burial epitaph in which he states: “And I saw the land of Syria and all its cities—Nisibis I saw when I passed over Euphrates, but everywhere I had brethren.”110 Other sources at this time testify to Christians in Parthia, Kushan, Persia, Media, Edessa, Hatra, and Fars. By the third century, grave inscriptions attest to Christians in far-flung reaches, even to the island of Kharg in the Persian Gulf.111 The Chronicle of Edessa, written mid-sixth century, describes a great flood of the Daisan River in 201 and mentions en passant that it destroyed the church in the city of Edessa. The size of the building and the number of Christians are unknown, but the reference supports the assertion of Eusebius that a bishop of Edessa was engaged in the Passover controversy toward the end of the second century.112 It is probable, therefore, that Christianity reached Edessa earlier, perhaps during the reign of Abgar VIII (177–212). A later foundation legend preserved by Eusebius claims Christianity reached Edessa through the conversion of Abgar V (d. ca. 50 c.e.).113 According to the story, known as the Doctrine of Addai, King Abgar heard of the miraculous powers of Jesus and asked him to come and heal him of a disease. Jesus sent back word in the form of a letter that he would send a disciple to heal him. After the ascension of Jesus, Thaddeus (=Addai), one of the 70 disciples, visited Edessa, healed the king, and converted many of his subjects. Thus Christianity began in Syria. If there is a historical kernel behind the legend, it may be plausibly set in the generation of Abgar VIII. If so, a Christian from Palestine named Addai (Thaddeus) came to Edessa, and through powers of healing, Addai convinced Jews and Gentiles of the truth of the gospel. King Abgar VIII may have become a Christian, hence the first Christian king, although he probably was more of a benevolent sympathizer of Christianity and did not wish to alienate himself from the majority of his kingdom. It is then argued that by the fourth century the story of Addai became a legend modeled after (or confused with) the conversion of Izates, king of Adiabene, and his mother Helena, as recounted by Josephus, and was set in the same generation of the early first century. It is possible, however, that the entire Doctrine of Addai is pious fiction, conceived in the late third century after the monarchy of Edessa had fallen, in order to give an ancient lineage to the bishop of the Christian community, and that this was done in opposition to the Manichaeans, who also claimed a noble lineage.114 If it is a late fabrication, then we must still account for the reach of Christianity to Edessa. The Letter of Jesus is, of course, a pious fiction, and was so declared by Pope Gelasius in 494 on the grounds


that any letter written by Jesus would have circulated widely and taken its place at the head of the New Testament canon.115 The nature of eastern Christianity at this time, at least among the elite, is exemplified by Bardaisan (154–222) known as “the Aramaean philosopher,” an intellectual of Mesopotamia who was either Persian or Aramaean. He was associated with King Abgar VIII at Edessa. During his life, Bardaisan attacked Marcionites and various Gnostic doctrines, even though he was initially influenced by Valentinus, and according to Eusebius, never shook off that heresy completely.116 For his own part, Bardaisan mastered the syncretistic speculation of his age and wrapped an ingenious fabric of beliefs around a core of Christian doctrine. After Bardaisan’s death, his disciple Philip collected and slightly altered his main teaching in a work called The Book of the Laws of Countries.117 The work follows the dialogue method of Plato and shows how Hellenistic culture had infiltrated the East. Like his younger contemporary, Origen, the speculations of Bardaisan on the nature of God, Christ, and the cosmos would later be judged heretical, but his influence would live on, even in the works of critics. He left a following of disciples, Bardaisanites, who preserved his teachings over the next four centuries. Our knowledge of Bardaisan, however, comes primarily from the pen of a later critic, Ephrem Syrus (ca. 306–373), who included Bardaisan among the heretics he refuted. Bardaisan’s view of humanity began with the biblical premise that humankind was created after the image of God, a triad comprised of body, soul, and spirit. The body is subject to nature, the soul descends (presumably from heaven), and the spirit comes from God to join the soul as it enters the body at the moment of birth. As the soul descends, it passes through the spheres of the seven planets, which bestow qualities according to the constellation of the moment of birth. Despite the astrological makeup of the soul, people are free to follow the good and avoid the evil. The stars do not determine the course of a person’s life, as can be seen by the obedience people give to the laws of different countries. At death, the body returns to its elements, and the soul ascends to God. He denied the resurrection of the body, and his view of Jesus was apparently docetic, a view that Jesus only appeared to be human but was not truly flesh and blood. The life and teachings of Bardaisan reveal another patch of the great swathe of early theology current in the East and Alexandria, against which the primitive gospel that emerged out of Palestine had to contend. Answers to questions about human existence that we now confine to the disciplines of anthropology and psychology, as well as the ancient philosophy about things divine, or theology, were never fully formulated in the received traditions of Judaism and early Christian thought. Those minds given to speculation, such as Marcion, Bardaisan, Origen, and the host of Gnostic thinkers, attempted to formulate a coherent worldview, a systematic theology, in the spirit of their age. Of all the different cultures Bardaisan advances in his argument that people exercise free will to overcome Fate, he finds the Jews to be the most convincing example.

Severan Decay, Christian Growth, and the Glory of Judah the Prince 369 But I shall tell you another thing too, more convincing than all the rest to fools and unbelievers: all the Jews that have received the law of Moses, circumcise their male children on the eighth day, without waiting for the coming of stars and without regard for the local law. And the star that rules the climate they are in, has no compulsive power over them. But whether they live in Edom or in Arabia, in Greece or in Persia, in the North or in the South, they keep to the law laid upon them by their fathers. And clearly they do not do this because of their horoscope, for it is impossible that on the eighth day, when they are circumcised, Mars should be in such a position with regard to all Jews, that iron come over them and their blood is spilt.118

Bardaisan’s view of the Jews, with whom he is quite familiar, is respectful on all counts. This stands in contrast to the majority of Gnostics and seems oblivious to the harsh attitudes expressed in the West. It appears that in the East, where the Jewish population was quite strong, there was little hostility or competition between Jews and Christians at this time.

Chapter 17

Roman Empire in Crisis and the Rise of Sasanian Persia (235–284 c.e.)

17.1 Rome and Persia The half century of the old Roman Empire between 235 and 284 was a time of military anarchy and fiscal collapse, often summarized by the word “crisis” and described as the beginning of the end of the ancient Mediterranean world. It marked the end of the Principate, a heap of ashes from which the Christian empire would arise. The decline of Roman stability was countered by the rise of a new dynasty in Persia, the Sasanians. From this point on, Jews and Christians in the East lived in the shadow of war between the two empires.

17.1.1 Rome Maximin Thrax (235–238), a peasant from Thrace (hence “Thrax”), was hailed emperor after the assassinations of Severus Alexander and his mother. The first of the so-called soldier-emperors, he defended Rome for less than 3 years when, in 238, wealthy African landowners revolted and chose the governor, Gordian, as emperor. The senate, which had never liked Maximin, nominated two of their own to share interim rule, but in due course it recognized the grandson of Gordian, Gordian III. In 238, six men were briefly emperor. Maximin advanced on Rome from the Danube but was held at bay by the city of Aquileia, and by April, his troops murdered him. Gordian III (238–244), the boy emperor, was guided by the Praetorian prefect Timesitheus, the power behind the throne. While campaigning against the Sasanian king, Shapur I, Gordian was assassinated by his troops in 244, and the current Praetorian prefect, Julius Philippus, an Arabian from Syria, replaced him. Philip the Arab (244–249) made peace with Persia and returned to Rome, where he celebrated the millennial of the Eternal City. Later tradition that he was a Christian is greeted skeptically by historians because of the typically Hellenic coinage he produced.119 But religious persuasion is a subtle affair for rulers, especially soldier-emperors surrounded by assassins, and he may have shown an interest in Christianity to the point of belief without disturbing the normal functions of

Roman Empire in Crisis and the Rise of Sasanian Persia 371

government. In any case, he tolerated Christianity. When the Goths threatened in 248, Philip sent his commander Decius to confront them, which he did, and upon his victory the troops hailed him emperor. Decius confronted and killed Philip at Verona in 249 and was accepted by Rome. Decius (249–251), a native of Pannonia (eastern Austria, western Hungary) from an established senatorial family, sought to stem the breakup of the empire by reviving the old Roman discipline, which meant a revival in the state religion. He decreed that all citizens offer sacrifices to the Roman gods. Jews and Christians, as usual, refused. Decius accepted the Jewish cause, with its venerable tradition, but not the Christians, a pasticcio of all tribes and lands. The number of Christians within the empire at this time approached 1.2 million, and in Rome itself 40,000, sufficient to alarm the rulers. This fact gave Decius cause to remark, “I would much rather hear that a rival emperor had risen up against me than another bishop in Rome.”120 He initiated the first imperial persecution of Christianity, severe but short-lived. While Decius was in Italy, the Goths attacked Moseia and northen Thrace. Decius fought a losing battle against them until he was slain in 251 to become the first emperor killed in battle. Valerian (253–260), the soldier who finally stepped into the place of Decius, spent most of his time in the East, where Goths had invaded Asia Minor and Persians were pillaging Armenia and Syria. Although initially well-disposed towards the Christians, Valerian resumed the persecution in 257. Clergy were ordered to sacrifice to the gods in support of the empire, and assemblies were forbidden, particularly in cemeteries where Christians often gathered for a communal meal with their departed loved ones. Peasants were killed or sent to the mines in Numidia (Tunisia and east Algeria) to die slowly. Members of the upper classes could have their property confiscated and suffer death or banishment if they persisted in Christianity. Among those banished was Cyprian, the bishop of Carthage. The persecution, however, lasted only 2 or 3 years. In 260, while campaigning in Persia, Valerian was captured and held in captivity until his death. According to one source, Valerian’s skin was dried and stuffed and later shown to Roman ambassadors as a reminder of former times.121 Valerian’s son, Gallienus, rescinded the decrees against Christians and let them assemble and receive back their property. He thought it better to wage a war of words and reason. Gallienus (259–268) ruled alone until 266, but rivals sprang up around the empire, and the period is known as the age of the thirty tyrants. Modern history knows of nine. One usurper, Posthumus, a native of Gaul, declared himself a Roman emperor of Gaul, Britain, and Spain. He defended his Gallic empire for nearly a decade against the barbarians and Gellienus. While Gallienus was confronting a usurper in Milan in 268, his officers killed him and proclaimed one of their own, Claudius II, emperor. The next year Posthumus was killed by his troops, but others retained control of the regional Gallic empire. For 2 years Claudius II beat back the Alemanni and the Goths, but he died of plague in 270. His brother became emperor, but when deserted by his troops, he committed suicide, and a colleague Aurelian, stepped in. And so it went. Aurelian (270–275) survived 5 years. He is noted for abandoning Dacia beyond the Danube but also for recovering


Palmyra from Queen Zenobia, a victory that brought Palestine back into the orb of Rome and earned him the title restitutor orbis, restorer of the world. He also rebuilt the walls of Rome, which remain to this day. Palmyra, the “city of palms,” was an ancient oasis city in Syria, some 130 miles northeast of Damascus. The Palmyrenes spoke Aramaic and had assimilated Arabs into its ancient Aramaean population. Trajan brought the city under Roman hegemony, Hadrian declared it a free city, and Caracalla elevated it to a colony, exempt from taxes. Palmyra prospered as a central caravan route with India, Egypt, and Rome, but with the rise of the Sasanians, the Roman trade route was cut off. The prince of Palmyra and client king of Rome, Odaenathus, raised an army and drove Shapur I out of Syria and went as far as to savage the predominantly Jewish city of Nehardea in 261. By 267, Odaenathus had recovered the eastern territories for Rome, but soon after both he and his son by his first wife were assassinated, perhaps at the instigation of his second wife, Septimia Zenobia. This ambitious woman put forth her own son, Vaballathus, as titular head, and in 269 she declared independence from Rome. Palestine, Egypt, and much of Asia Minor fell to Palmyrene hegemony. Aurelian then invaded Asia Minor in 272, and after a brief siege, Palmyra fell. Aurelian spared the city and brought it back into its client status. When he departed for the Danube, Zenobia rebelled again. In 273 Aurelian destroyed the city of Palmyra and annihilated its populace so that it never recovered. Zenobia was part of Aurelian’s triumph in 274, and some say she married a Roman senator and retired to his villa. Aurelian was convinced that his victory over Zenobia came from the intervention of the guardian deity of the nearby city of Emesa, Sol Invictus Elagabal. He ordered the destroyed temple of Sol Invictus to be restored and promised to send priests for its dedication. Although reverence of Sol (Helios) among Romans can be traced back to the early Republic, and coins were struck with the figure of Sol in a four-horse-drawn chariot during the Second Punic War in 135 b.c.e., Sol remained a minor deity. Elagabalus had brought his Sun cult with him to Rome, but it did not survive his own eccentric 4-year reign. In 274, Aurelian established the cult of the Divine Unconquered Sun (Deus Sol Invictus) and instituted its own priesthood and quadrennial Greek games. Now, the Sun god was easily identified with Zeus Hypsistos or Theos Hypsistos, “God the Highest,” and often simply Hypsistos, a cult widely observed in Asia and a designation familiar to Jews and Christians. The cult was part of Aurelian’s effort to establish a unity across the empire and give a renewed sense of authority. Its success would not be apparent for another 40 years, but it laid a foundation for the future recognition of Christianity by Constantine.122 The final decade of the age of crisis saw six named emperors, each slain by his own troops. Aurelian was assassinated while preparing another invasion of Persia. The senate appointed one of their own, the elderly Tacitus, emperor against his will (and sanely so). Tacitus defeated the Goths and Alans and then was slain by his troops in 276. His brother Florian was acclaimed emperor and promptly killed. The eastern armies acclaimed Probus, an Illyrian peasant cum general, emperor. He survived long enough to push the Franks and others out of Gaul and stabilize the Danube frontier and Asia Minor. In 282, the troops in Raetia saluted the Praetorian


prefect, Carus, emperor, and Probus was assassinated in Pannonia. Carus named his two sons, Numerian and Carinus, Caesar to rule with him. Carus fought victoriously in Persia, capturing the capital Ctesiphon, but he died the following year in uncertain circumstances. Some said he was struck by lightning, others by his father-in-law. Numerian assumed the title Augustus but was found dead in his litter on his return to Rome. The imperial bodyguard saluted its commander, Diocles, as emperor in 284. He adopted the more Roman name of Diocletian. Meanwhile, Carinus, second son of Carus, attempted to hold the west, but his troops dispatched him during a battle in Moravia in 285. In the summer of 285, Diocletian was recognized as master of the empire, and the age of anarchy was over. The general malaise ruined the economy of the empire, which had been in decline since the reign of Nero. The disruption of trade and the absence of new silver mines forced the government to devalue the denarius. Nero had reduced the denarius by 5 percent of its silver, and the silver content had steadily declined under the Antonines, but toward the middle of the third century it plummeted. In the two centuries between Nero and Gallienus, the denarius went from 95 percent silver to 5 percent silver—a copper coin boiled in a bath of silver that gave it a thin veneer that soon wore off. Real coins from the olden days were hoarded or melted down as bullion. Inflation spiraled, merchants shunned the newer coins, and everywhere people turned to a barter economy.

17.1.2 Sasanian Persia Ardashir (ca. 224–241) came from Persis, the satrapy of the southern cradle of the ancient Persian Achaemenids. The Sasanians took their family name from an ancestor Sasan, said to have been a Zoroastrian priest. Ardashir (Artaxerxes) had the support of a family of Zoroastrian priests of Persepolis, and his revolt was inherently a religious revolution. After more than four centuries of Parthian rule over ancient Persia, the Sasanian dynasty would rule for another 400 years. The new rulers inherited the political threats to Persia along with its geographical frontiers. The Romans in the west claimed all land up to the Euphrates. Armenia in the north remained the prize territory sought by both empires; for it gave Persia access to the Black Sea and gave Rome avenue to the Far East trade, as well as a route to invade and contain Persia. To the northeast and east of the Caspian Sea, nomadic peoples, the Kushans and the Hephthalites, threatened Persia just as Germans and Goths threatened Rome. And just as a Roman emperor occasionally had grandiose dreams of recovering the empire of Alexander the Great, so the Persian Shah-an-shah (King of kings)—a title revived from the days of Cyrus the Great— occasionally dreamed of reclaiming the empire of Darius. Ardashir apparently had such dreams, for Dio Cassius says, “He boasted that he would win back everything that the ancient Persians had once held, as far as the Grecian Sea, claiming that all this was his rightful inheritance from his forefathers.”123 Following his victory over the Parthian king Artabanus in 227, Ardashir turned to his western frontier with an eye on the strategic north rim of the Fertile Crescent,


the ever disputed territory of Armenia. Khusro I, king of Armenia and leader of a coalition army, was quickly defeated by the Sasanians. Ardashir invaded Mesopotamia in 230, threatening Syria. Diplomatic exchanges between Ardashir and Severus Alexander failed, and by the spring of 232, the Persian and Roman armies engaged in the northern plains of Mesopotamia. The forces under Ardashir wasted the southernmost army of Rome. The military catastrophe demoralized the troops, and the other Roman armies retreated. For the next few years, Persian armies harassed the population of Syria, but Ardashir did not occupy the provinces, probably because he knew he could not hold the land. Ardashir was content to extend Persian hegemony over Armenia, a task he left to his son and successor to complete. Ardashir made his capital in Seleucia-on-the-Tigris, renamed Veh-Ardashir, just across from Ctesiphon, and embarked on an ambitious building program of new cities, canals, temples, and other public buildings across the land. Around 233, he turned his attention to revitalizing his Iranian religion, Mazdeanism, a Sasanian version of Zoroastrianism taken from the name of the great god Ahura Mazda. Ardashir died in 241, and his son Shapur I (240–270), who already ruled jointly, assumed the title Shah-an-shah. During the wars between Shapur and the Romans, Jews and Christians suffered the ravages of war along with everyone. When Shapur invaded Cappadocia and destroyed its capital city of Caesarea-Mazaca, some 12,000 Jews were slain. Shapur’s invasion of Asia Minor only drove the people into the arms of Rome. Shapur conquered Antioch in Syria in 260 and deported many Christians to eastern Mesopotamia, Susiana, and Persis.124 This was the main thrust of Christianity into Persian lands and mirrors the expansion of the Jewish Diaspora due to wars, deportations, and the slave trade. These Christians soon fostered new centers of Persian Christianity and developed their own ecclesiastical organization, which Shapur may have intended to counterbalance the magi, particularly in Persis, the stronghold of Zoroastrianism. The bishop of Antioch, Demetrianus, was taken in the exile of 256, and before he died soon after, he was able to establish his Christian community in Beth Lapat (Gundeshapur, in the south).

17.1.3 Persian Religious Ideology The tenth-century Persian poet, Firdawsi, in his Persian national epic Shāhnāmeh, “Book of Kings,” preserves the last words of Ardashir to his son and heir: Never forget that, as a king, you are at once the protector of religion and of your country. Consider the altar and the throne as inseparable; they must always sustain each other. A sovereign without religion is a tyrant; and a people who have none may be deemed the most monstrous of all societies. Religion may exist without a state; but a state cannot exist without religion; and it is by holy laws that a political association can alone be bound.125

Whether the words of the poet go back to Ardashir or not, they conform to the nature of Sasanian rule, “ ‘religion ascends the throne,’ and are as likely to report the Sasanian ideology that influenced Islam as to be a Muslim Persian’s reinterpretation


of a glorious Persian past.”126 All forms of government have required a dominant ideology to maintain the unity of the people, and up to that time, religion had served as the principle of unity. The ideology of Ardashir was the same that Roman emperors had always espoused up to the days of Diocletian and would continue for the rest of our history and beyond. Our knowledge of pre-Sasanian Zoroastrianism remains very uncertain due to the absence of ancient sources. The life of Zoroaster (Zarathustra) is vague to the point of ghostly. Although many scholars now tend to accept that he probably lived in the latter half of the second millennium b.c.e. and hailed from central Asia, and that his ideas reached eastern Iranian steppes along with nomadic migration in the early iron age when Israel was taking shape, evidence of Zoroaster, like that of Moses, comes much later. The view that Zoroaster lived during the early years of the Achaemenid dynasty (ca. 628–551 b.c.e.) remains a possibility and would help explain the fact that although Darius I (522–486 b.c.e.) and his successors worshiped Ahura Mazda as the greatest god of a significant pantheon, they left no trace in their inscriptions of Zoroaster or his doctrines. The roots of Zoroaster’s belief are preserved in the Gathas, the holy songs of Zarathustra, primarily song 17, and traditions of his life preserved in the Avesta. He worshiped Ahura Mazda, the wise (mazda) god (ahura), as the greatest among the gods. The religion comprised an essential dualistic worldview between good and evil, in which good will be victorious in a cataclysmic end. Ancient Zoroastrianism as known today is largely an academic construct for which some records are preserved in Arabic and Persian from the ninth century c.e., although they contain material from much earlier. With the revival of the ancient faith during the Sasanian era, we are on firmer ground. The Avesta of the Parthian period was codified and written down under the Sasanians, although all copies appear to have been destroyed during the Muslim conquest. The parts that survived were from the regular liturgy. But the institution of Zoroastrianism paralleled the institutionalization of Judaism and Christianity and is a product of the Sasanian era. The magians were organized into a clergy, with a chief magus, or high priest.127 The kings ruled by the grace of Ahura Mazda (also spelled Ohrmazd, Ormizd), the high god and creator, along with lesser deities, principally Mithra and Anahita, who aided in sustaining the cosmic balance. Pious Zoroastrians were charged to exhibit right thought, word, and deed. Worship involved sacred hymns and offerings to fire and water. Fire temples had existed during the Parthian and Achaemenid eras but now took on a more organized function in support of the state. Ardashir, in his zeal, hoped to convert all peoples of Iranian and non-Iranian lands within his empire to the Mazdean faith and unite them under some form of a fire temple state religion. For each satrapy he established a political officer alongside an official of the Mazdean clergy, a Mobad, and built many new fire temples.128 Although the Sasanian policy was not directed at monotheists—there were groups of Hindus, Buddhists, and others among the disparate peoples—the unification of a state cult was a shock to the Jews of Babylonia, who now experienced for the first time the persecution that the Jews of the Roman Empire had dealt with in previous


generations. The challenge was twofold: Jews had to demonstrate political loyalty to the king, yet retain as much autonomy for the community as they could. Compromises would have to be made; rulings on various dilemmas would have to be given. The reign of Ardashir was zealous but naive, for he did not reckon with the widespread resistance to his campaign for religious uniformity. At some point the Sasanians realized they could not coerce, or even safely control, the religious minorities within their empire. Shapur I followed his father’s advice by reversing his policy of imposing Mazdeanism and sought to accommodate the religious minorities throughout the empire. He curtailed the power of the magis and assured Jews and Christians that they could worship in peace. Beyond toleration, he fostered a syncretistic unification of religions. It was toward this goal that Shapur gave Mani an audience and encouraged him to propagate his ecumenical doctrine. In this generation a new religious movement began, known as Manichaeism, the religion of Mani, that would plague both Persia and Rome. Mani, or Manichaeus (216–276), was a native of southern Babylonia, born around 216. He claimed to have twice received a vision of a celestial being who called him to preach a new religion. While still a young man, Mani was banished from Persia and traveled to India, where he developed his religious belief, influenced by Buddhism, and made converts. Like Montanus, Mani saw himself as the manifestation of the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, promised by Jesus, the final successor in a long line of prophets, including the Buddha and Zoroaster and beginning with Adam. He rejected Moses and the prophets of the Jews within his illustrious lineage, probably due to some anti-Jewish influences of Marcionite Christianity. His religion was a combination of Zoroastrian dualism and Gnostic Christianity, especially Elkesaite and Mandaean traditions. The world was evil and painful; salvation came through secret knowledge. The soul shares the nature of God, but it has fallen into the evil matter and must be rescued through knowledge of its true divine essence; that is, to know God. The effort to release the soul from its imprisoned body required severe asceticism, including a vegetarian diet. Mani returned to Persia early in the reign of Shapur I. He gained entrance into the king’s court and so impressed the royal family that for many years he enjoyed their patronage. But his influence seems to have been contained within the upper echelons of Persian society, for he made few friends among the Mazdean clergy—indeed, they became his greatest enemies—and his doctrines had no impact on the Jews. The religious toleration shown by Shapur changed dramatically under his successors, Hurmazd I (270–271), Hurmazd I’s brother Bahram I (271–274), and the beginning of the reign of Bahram II (274–293). At this time, Sasanian politics were dominated by Kartir (Karter, Karder), the chief priest and leading zealot of the Mazdean religion. Under the pliant Bahram dynasty, Kartir launched his campaign against minority religions. The famous inscription at the Ka’ba-yi Zardust boasts that he opposed various sectarians, including Jews, Christians, Buddhists, Brahmans, and a group identified as “baptists,” probably of Christian affiliation, even though groups of Mandaeans were also known as baptists.129 Among his first victims was the aged Mani. Kartir formed a coalition among the courtiers of Bahram II and summoned Mani to appear before the king. When he arrived, Bahram


II leveled the accusations, including the Manichaean aversion to hunting and war, which displeased the king. Mani declared he had done no evil and reminded the court of his work as a physician and exorcist for many. Nevertheless, Mani was placed in fetters, and he died soon after in 276. Kartir then attempted to purge the empire of Manichaens and appears to have been largely successful. Many fled west to spread Manichaean doctrines among the Roman Empire, and by 297 Diocletian would issue an edict banning them.

17.2 Jews The Jews of Persia had prospered under the Parthian Arcasid dynasty, whose kings established and supported the Jewish autonomous cultural identity, their freedom of worship, and the oversight of the exilarch. Life changed under the Sasanians. Suddenly, the religion of the ruling class dominated the drive for a new political unity of the new empire. Ardashir seems to have taken up his conquest like a crusade, anticipating Christianity and Islam, in the belief that Ahura Mazda (Ohrmazd) had given him victory over the Parthians. His rule brought an end to the religious toleration of the Parthians, as all religious expression was threatened by a forced conformity to Mazdean religion. The change of regime in Persia coincided with increasing anxiety of Jews in Palestine, and rabbinic tradition preserves a succinct verdict: Antoninus attended on Rabbi: Artaban attended on Rav. When Antoninus died, Rabbi exclaimed: The bond is snapped! So also when Artaban died, Rav exclaimed: The bond is snapped!130

Antoninus is probably Caracalla, and Artaban is the Parthian king, Artabanus V. The rabbinic idiom that each emperor served the Jewish leader is true only in the sense that Rabbi Judah the Prince and Rav were well served by the rule of each emperor, and when the emperors died, the amicable liaison between Gentile ruler and Jewish prince was severed. For a generation the Jews of Babylonia lamented the passing of the Parthians, while the Jews of Palestine endured the general anarchy that plagued the Roman Empire in the third century—a generation of famine, pestilence, and death.

17.2.1 Babylonia The rise of the new Sasanian rulers changed the political landscape for the Jews of Babylonia. First, the periodic wars with Rome required the Jews to express loyalty anew. Second, the rulers meant their Persian Mazdeanism (Zoroastrianism) to serve as a state religion, and the magi took a less tolerant view of rivals. 17.2.1.1 Exilarch and Rabbis The exilarch of Babylonia, Mar Ukba I (ca. 210–240), found himself in the unenviable position between realpolitik and rabbis, his personal rock and a hard


place. On the one hand, he represented the Jews of Babylonia to their new Persian overlord, Ardashir. On the other hand, he had to retain his own authority over the Jews in the face of a rising challenge from the rabbis who assumed the authority of interpreting Torah. Under Parthian rule, the exilarch Huna and previous Jewish leaders had acted as the head of a millet community, a Jewish prince responsible for the internal governance of a defined ethnic group, and its share of the taxes for the king of kings. The exilarch sought the political stability of the Jewish communities. The rabbis sought to apply Mosaic law to the Jewish communities, as fashioned by the sages of Palestine. The confrontation between the traditional secular authority of the Babylonian Jewish community and the rising power of the sages mirrored the power struggle that had occupied the Jews of Palestine for a century. Mar Ukba’s success, and perhaps the survival of the Jewish community of Babylonia, depended on his ability to forge a new alliance with the leading rabbis. He found this alliance with the two luminaries of the age, Rav and Mar Samuel. The Babylonian scholar Abba Arikha (ca. 160–247), known predominantly as Rav, studied in Palestine toward the end of the reign of Judah I. The name Arikha, which means “tall,” was probably applied to him due to his height, though others say it was due to his honor, and it was certainly for his honor that he is almost always called simply Rav, Master.131 In 219, he returned to Babylonia and brought the Mishnah with him. Rav had already made a name for himself in Palestine as a student of Judah. When a scholar visiting Palestine later referred to the sage in Babylonia as Abba Arikha, Johanan b. Nappaha responded, “I remember when I was sitting before Rabbi, seventeen rows behind Rav, seeing sparks of fire leaping from the mouth of Rabbi into the mouth of Rav and from the mouth of Rav into the mouth of Rabbi, and I could not understand what they were saying. And you simply call him Abba Arikha!?”132 The arrival of Rav with the Mishnah from Palestine marked a change in the balance of power among the circle of sages. Although it would not be settled for another generation, the torch of rabbinic leadership had passed from the West to the East. Mar Samuel (ca. 165–257/263) was a giant of his generation, with a mind that comes along not more than once a century. Of such men legends naturally sprout up. His father, Abba bar Abba, was a silk merchant of Nehardea, and a rabbi of some repute. Once, so the story goes, Abba received an order for a silk garment from the sage Judah ben Bathyra, but when he had procured it, Rabbi Judah declined the purchase. Abba asked Rabbi Judah if the word of a sage was not more binding than money, Judah affirmed it was, and therefore Abba would receive a prophecy in lieu of payment. Judah prophesied that Abba would have a son like the prophet Samuel, “whose word all Israel will recognize as true.” When his wife gave birth to a boy, Abba named him Samuel.133 While still a child, Samuel’s prodigious mind became evident, and he went through several teachers, including his father, all of whom realized they were not up to the task. Abba sent Samuel to study at the school of Nisibis, and when he returned to Nehardea after a short time, Samuel studied with Palestinian sage Levi b. Sisi, who was staying in Babylonia for awhile. Again, Samuel was soon the equal of his teacher. Later he went to Palestine, and though still too young to study under Rabbi,


he studied with the senior disciples of the patriarch. After mastering the traditions of the land and the Mishnah, which Rabbi Judah was in the process of codifying, he returned to Babylonia, and pupils flocked to him. As with many great sages, Samuel’s thirst for learning extended to the study of medicine, astrology, and civil law. 17.2.1.2 Rabbinic Foundations in Babylonia Exilarch Mar Ukba continued the policy of his predecessors by appointing distinguished scholars as judges over internal Jewish affairs and agents of his court. He appointed Mar Samuel as judge of the court at Nehardea and later added the position of head of the school of Nehardea. Mar Ukba appointed Rav to the important office of agoranomos, master of the market, in the city of Nehardea. In his position as agoranomos, Rav followed his training from Palestine and controlled only the weights of commerce but not the prices, which would stifle competition. When Mar Ukba ordered him to control the prices, he refused and was imprisoned until he submitted to the authority of the exilarch.134 The clash of authority between Mar Ukba and Rav was resolved, and in any event, it did not prevent Rav from allying himself to the exilarch through the marriage of his daughter to the son of Mar Ukba. At some point the two families found to their mutual satisfaction that they had a common ancestor, and future exilarchs would come from that marriage alliance. Mar Ukba also studied under Mar Samuel, thus acknowledging the superiority of the sages in matters of Torah. Rav received an invitation from one of the early Babylonian sages, Shila, to lecture at his school in Nehardea. Rav’s popularity as a teacher grew, and soon he moved south to the city of Sura on the Euphrates, where he founded his own study house. His method of instruction was to begin with a passage from the Mishnah of Judah I, and drawing on the abundance of traditions from the Tannaim, deduce the theory and practice of the oral Torah. The assumption underlying the popularity of rabbinic rulings was that Jews on the whole wanted to follow the laws of God, and if it could be shown that a ruling on a new case followed tradition and Torah, it was more likely to be observed voluntarily. That did not mean that every Jew accepted the rabbis as an authority, and rabbis did not have the power to enforce laws that pertained to the home, the kitchen, or the bedroom. Their task, as it had been for the Pharisees and Palestinian sages before them, was to provide a satisfactory explanation for how a law ought to be followed for the instruction of Jews who desired to follow the Torah precisely. The rabbis apparently felt they had work to do among the Jews of Persia. A statement attributed to Rav claimed, “Babylon is healthy; Mesene [southern Iraq to the Persian Gulf] is dead; Media is sick, and Elam is dying.”135 Only the area of Babylonia, central Iraq around modern Baghdad, was deemed in good Jewish form. The judgment does not tell us much about what Jews of Persia thought of their spiritual condition, but it does tell us how little influence rabbis had at that point. Only the rulings of the exilarch through his proxy rabbis that dealt with commerce or civil suits could generally be enforced. From the strengthened position of Jewish solidarity, such as it was, the leaders could deal with the rise of the Sasanian regime. Ardashir had reversed the political


autonomy of the Jews, and it soon became clear that the Sasanian government intended to enforce its own code of law on all peoples, as well as to oversee the autonomous rulings made within the Jewish community. The change was twofold. Jews who were prepared to break from the authority of the rabbis could now appeal an unfavorable verdict rendered in Jewish courts to the higher courts of the Persians. And the laws of the Jews had to conform to the laws of the Sasanian Empire. On one occasion, Shila, the rabbi-judge of Nehardea, ordered a Jewish man flogged for having had intercourse with a Gentile woman. The Jew complained to the Persian authorities, who summoned Shila for an explanation. He claimed the Jew had copulated with a she-ass. They asked for a witness, and according to the story, Elijah came in disguise and bore witness. After reviewing the Jewish law, the Persians said that the man should have been executed, not merely flogged. Shila replied that the Jews did not have authority for capital punishment and asked the court to rule on the man as they saw fit. The Persian authorities finally gave Shila authority to inflict whatever punishment their law demanded. When they had gone, the Jewish man accused Shila of committing perjury with the lying witness (the truth behind the appearance of Elijah). Shila rationalized the statement he gave to the Persians by quoting Ezek 23:20: “And she doted upon her paramours there, whose members were like those of asses.” When the man threatened to inform the Persians that Shila called them asses, Shila executed him, which he then justified by the principle that it is permitted to kill a thief who is prepared to commit murder.136 Another case came before the court of Rav, at which the sage Kahana was also present. A man was prepared to expose a fellow Jew who had hidden produce from the tax collectors. Rav ordered the whistle-blower to keep silent, but the man refused. According to the story, Kahana rose up and tore out the man’s windpipe. Rav pointed out to Kahana that Jews no longer had the autonomy of capital punishment: “Until now the [Parthians] who did not take much notice of bloodshed held sway, but now the Persians who do take notice of our executions will accuse you of murder.” He advised Kahana to flee to Palestine.137 The traditions are not without difficulties, but the historical events behind them reveal a new relationship between Jews and their overlords and the attempt of the rabbis to rule over their people. Jews had to come to grips with Persian laws and oversight. The story of Rabbi Shila is preserved and enhanced with a legendary appearance of Elijah to cover an act of perjury because the Jews deemed the deceit necessary to enforce their laws, protect the people, and maintain communal discipline. The Jewish response to the new restrictions on their practice of Judaism also proved a challenge. During the early years of Sasanian rule, the powerful magi encouraged the destruction of synagogues.138 They also forbade three Jewish practices offensive to the Mazdean cult. Across much of the ancient world, animals could not be killed for food unless certain portions were dedicated to the gods, in this case, a Mazdean fire altar. Such Jewish dedications, however, were idolatrous, and eating meat became difficult. Ritual baths were also prohibited; although the reason is not clear, the magi may have objected to the ritual purification of a Jewish woman after menstruation.139 The third restriction was burial of the dead. Persians


believed interment defiled the earth, and they left corpses to the vultures, returning later to bury the bones. In this case, Sasanians would exhume the bodies in Jewish cemeteries, even those of rabbis.140 For awhile, at least, the practice of Judaism was severely curtailed. Because the Mazdeans worshiped fire, there were even restrictions on lighting the Hanukkah lamp. Since it was the custom to place the lamps by a window near the street, Jews would move the lamp if they knew a magus would be passing by, and Rav had to rule that it was permitted to move it on a sabbath. Word brought to Palestine from the Jews of Babylonia described the magi as “destroying angels.”141 During times of widespread persecution, the sages searched the Scriptures for comfort and perspective. God was punishing the Jews for lack of obedience, but also testing them. The book of Daniel was opened, and the bear of the four empires revived, and they were reminded that this new empire would also pass. The stories of Moses under Pharaoh and of Esther under Ahasuerus became principal texts for sermons.142 They speculated anew on the messiah and the messianic age. Some thought the next world would be like this one except all Gentile governments would be subjugated; other views saw a completely different world. As Rav would often say, “The future world is not like this world. In the future world there is no eating nor drinking nor propagation nor business nor jealousy nor hatred nor competition, but the righteous sit with their crowns on their heads feasting on the brightness of the divine presence, as it says, ‘And they beheld God, and did eat and drink.’ ”143 The intense persecution of Babylonian Jews probably did not last long, certainly not beyond the reign of Ardashir, but it affected the Jewish community of Babylonia. Under the Parthians they had been integrated into society and served in the administration of Parthian affairs, including the military. Now the pressure to assimilate into Persian culture caused many Jews to retreat to the margins of society, and they became a restricted, if tolerated, minority. Others were more likely to shed all or some of their Judaism, as occurred in Palestine after the wars of 70 and 135. The Jews were also distinct from other ethnic peoples in Persia in that they comprised a significant population on both sides of the boundary lands between Persia and Rome and might influence the tides of fortune in the ongoing conflicts. The Jews could be either a liability or an asset in Persia’s dealings with Rome. Within Sasanian Persia under Shapur I it was in everyone’s interest to seek stability and loyalty of the Jews. The negotiations between the Jewish communiy and the Sasanians were entrusted to Mar Samuel, their leading light. Shapur may have sought to employ the Jews in a campaign against Rome and have offered to support the Jews of his kingdom in a bid to retake Palestine. The rabbinic tradition, as usual, is enigmatic. Shapur said to Samuel, “You maintain that the Messiah will come upon an ass (Zech 9:9): I will rather send him a white horse of mine.” Samuel replied, “Have you a hundredhued steed?”144

If the tradition recalls a genuine effort on the part of Shapur to engage the Jews of Persia in his western campaigns (providing the horse for their Messiah), as well as to entice those within the Roman Empire to revolt, nothing came of it. But it may


represent the good will of Shapur and his desire to integrate Jews into his government. In the end, Jewish leaders came to an understanding with the Sasanians. The result was Mar Samuel’s most enduring decision, recorded in the simple dictum: dina de-malkhuta dina, “The law of the kingdom is the law.”145 Jews had always submitted to the laws of the empire, east or west, so long as obedience to the king did not require disobedience to God, but in many areas it was a matter of custom and business. Mar Samuel stood in the long tradition of submission to Gentile rule begun by Jeremiah and continued by Johanan ben Zakkai and Josephus, that Rome ruled by divine will and should be obeyed and supported. Samuel’s dictum laid the basis for integrating Jewish legal decisions into the state legal system, which facilitated the integration of the Jewish community into the Sasanian Empire. It also declared that Persian law was inherently moral and just. Samuel’s endorsement of the Sasanian rule extended as far as the deaths of Jews in war. During a battle at Caesarea-Mazaca, the capital of Cappadocia, some 12,000 Jews (a number symbolic for “many”) were slain, and when the report reached Samuel, he refused to mourn publicly because he accepted the claim of King Shapur I that the Jews had resisted the government.146 Samuel also supported Shapur by castigating the Roman Empire. He is reported to have claimed that Patriarch Judah I was forced to contribute oxen for Roman religious festivals and paid 120,000 denarii to avoid the sacrilege.147 We have no confirmation of this, and it goes against the good relations Judah had with the emperors, but the story served the purpose of encouraging Jews on the Sasanian frontiers to remain loyal to the Persian shah.

17.2.2 Palestine 17.2.2.1 Patriarch and Rabbis Patriarch Judah II (ca. 235–260) succeeded his father, Gamaliel III, and seems to have increased the authority of his office over the sages and the people of Palestine. He is often designated Judah Nesiah, similar to his grandfather. He fostered closer relations with the leading rabbis, and they in turn promoted public honor of the patriarch. One insisted that it was unseemly to find the patriarch dressed in a mere linen robe even in his own home when others were present, justifying his view with “Your eyes shall behold the king in his splendor.”148 Nevertheless, Judah II was subject to rabbinic opposition, and at least one rabbi publically condemned the patriarch for excessive taxation. This may have resulted from his attempt to include the rabbis in his taxation to repair the walls of Tiberias. Judah II struggled to manage his responsibilities during the deepening anarchy and poverty. In one instance, he annulled previous law and issued a decree permitting the use of oil prepared by Gentiles, which was accepted by Samuel in Babylonia.149 He naturally fostered good relations with wealthy Jews, as his grandfather had done. He held daily audiences for the urban and rural leading families and included them in his administration, often with judicial posts. This led to further conflict with the rabbis, who felt these judges did not have sufficient knowledge of halakhah to render


proper decisions.150 The conflict offers a rare glimpse of the relations between the sages of rabbinic tradition and the other Jewish elite who remain in the shadows. Judah II was presumably followed by Patriarch Gamaliel IV (ca. 260–275), of whom almost nothing is known. Even the years of his tenure as patriarch are uncertain, and many of the events mentioned during this time are confused with those of his son and successor Judah III (ca. 275–300), who is the better known in rabbinic tradition. The patriarchate declined perceptibly in the mid-third century. At this time, if not earlier, the patriarch lost the right to appoint rabbis and judges without consent of the rabbinical court. The calendar, however, remained under the exclusive control of the patriarch and the elders he appointed. Judah III revived the office somewhat around 275. Judah III sent leading sages throughout Palestine to visit different communities and evaluate their teachers. The patriarch’s influence may have been greater outside of Palestine than within. A dedication inscription in the synagogue of Stobi in northern Macedonia, dated to 280–281, declares that if the terms of arrangement for an upper room by the synagogue patron are violated, the offender must pay a fine of 250,000 denarii to the patriarch.151 If the date has been correctly assigned, this is a remarkable extension of patriarchal influence in the Diaspora. The principal sages of the early part of this generation in Palestine include Yannai the Elder, Hoshaiah (Oshayah) the Elder, Hanina b. Hama, Joshua b. Levi, Johanan b. Nappaha, Simeon b. Lakish, and Eleazer II b. Pedat. Yannai the Elder was a wealthy man who studied under Judah the Prince and received tutoring from his elder colleague Hiyya Rabbah. Once ordained, he started his own study house and employed his disciples on his estate. Yannai was not afraid to challenge the rulings in the Mishnah, published during his day, and his legal decisions tended to render strict rulings for individuals but more lenient ones for the community. He also counseled submission to Roman rule whenever possible, and in this sense, he was of one mind with his senior contemporary in Babylonia, Mar Samuel.152 Hoshaiah Rabbah the Elder came from Sepphoris. His father, Hama, had worked in the administration of Judah I. Hoshaiah later ran his own popular school in Sepphoris, where his reputation for explaining the Mishnah earned him the epitaph “Father of the Mishnah,” and he, too, was not afraid to disagree with the ancients, even the houses of Hillel and Shammai. In his later years, he moved his school to Caesarea, and there he almost certainly befriended the Christian scholar Origen, who ran his own school in the city.153 Hanina bar Hama (d. ca. 250), often cited in the Talmud as Rabbi Hanina, was an intimate associate of Rabbi Judah the Prince. He was present at least on one occasion when the emperor Antoninus met with Judah I.154 He lectured in the school of Sepphoris, where eventually he was appointed its head. One son, Hama, also became a sage of repute. Like many a sage, he studied medicine, practiced as a physician, and held the view that most people died from colds, that is, preventable illnesses, for which Providence armed humanity with the common sense to avoid them.155 That unsympathetic diagnosis brought on public scorn when a pestilence hit the people of Sepphoris and they blamed Haninah for not preventing it. The


rabbi is reputed to have replied that in the days of Zimri, 24,000 Israelites died because of his sin, but in their days, how many Zimris are there, and people complain over a small pestilence! Among his most famous sayings: “Everything is in the power of Heaven except the fear of Heaven”; that is, everyone is born with certain gifts and characteristics, but a person’s morality, including decisions that affect the body, is a matter of choice.156 He apparently practiced what he preached and lived to a ripe old age. He attributed his health to hot baths and oil but his longevity to honoring his elders. Joshua ben Levi ( fl. 220–250) dwelt at Lydda in southern Palestine, where he founded a study house. He was a wealthy man, allied with the patriarch through the marriage of his son, Joseph. His reputation was that of a quiet, gentle scholar who nevertheless took up his duty as an influential elder of the Jewish community. He interceded on behalf of the Jews in Lydda before the governor in Caesarea, and when a Jewish fugitive from the law took refuge in Lydda, he saved the city from reprisal by handing over the fugitive. In a legend attached to the incident, Joshua is condemned by Elijah the prophet for being an informer against his own people. Joshua defends his action on the grounds that justice should prevail. Elijah agrees, but truly pious people should not be informers.157 Johanan b. Nappaha (d. 279) was a handsome man, orphaned in his youth and raised by his grandfather. He attended some lectures of Judah I but claims to have understood very little, and he then studied under Yannai and Hoshaiah, and homiletics under Hanina. He supported himself by working orchards he had inherited, but he was forced to sell them one by one to complete his studies, and finding himself impoverished, he left the academy to earn money. When he returned, he struggled to survive, until Judah I awarded him a stipend and finally a lectureship in Sepphoris. Johanan quickly became a popular lecturer, but at some point, he disagreed with Hanina on a point of law, and rather than confront his former tutor, he moved to Tiberias. There, he opened a study house and drew scholars from throughout the Diaspora, including many of the significant names of the next generation. His authority was accepted even in Babylonia. Johanan recognized only the authority of Rav as greater than his own and in correspondence addressed him as “our Master in Babylonia.” After Rav’s death, Johanan was not inclined to recognize Mar Samuel as his equal, addressing him merely as “colleague,” but after reviewing the opinions of Mar Samuel on dietary laws, he is reputed to have admitted, “I still have a master in Babylonia.”158 Simeon b. Lakish (ca. 200–275), known also as Resh Lakish, was one of the most colorful of rabbis, remembered for his large stature, both girth and height, and his strength. In his youth he studied along with Johanan b. Nappaha in Sepphoris, and like his colleague, the impoverished life of a student eventually drove him away. He hired himself out as a circus strong man, or occasionally as a gladiator fighting wild animals. The story is told how one day Rabbi Johanan was bathing in a river, and when Resh Lakish chanced upon him, he jumped into the river as well. Johanan said to him, “Your strength should be for Torah.” To which Resh Lakish replied, “Your beauty should be for women.” Johanan then proposed to give his beautiful sister to Resh Lakish if he returned to his studies. Resh Lakish thus returned to


the academy and became a scholar of renown.159 Among his many maxims, one suggests he may have known the Gospel of Matthew: “Who commits the sin of adultery only with the eyes is an adulterer.”160 Whether he knew the Gospel or not, he agreed with the teachings of Jesus. Eleazar II b. Pedat was a Babylonian by birth who studied under Mar Samuel and Rav. His love for the land of Israel, however, led him to immigrate to Palestine early enough in his life so that he could still attend lectures of Hiyya the Elder and Hoshaiah at Sepphoris. He later joined the school of Johanan b. Nappaha in Tiberias, where he so impressed Johanan that the master said of Eleazar, “He sits and expounds like Moses in the name of the Almighty.” Eleazar succeeded Johanan at the head of the school in Tiberias, where he served out his life. His fame reached Babylonia and he was often sent queries from his native land, so that in due course, the sages there hailed him as “master of the land of Israel.” Eleazar decried the study of esoteric theology, and applied the saying of Ben Sira to it: “Seek not things that are too hard for thee, and search not out things that are above thy strength” (Sir 3:21). He remained very poor all his life, yet practiced charity as he was able, refused gifts, and preached that God preferred charity to sacrifices and rituals. It was said that he declined invitations to dine with the patriarch Judah II, citing the maxim, “he who hates gifts (bribes) will live” (Prov 15:27).161 17.2.2.2 Poverty of Palestine The Jews in Palestine had always been subject to the provincial tribute of land tax (tributum solis), poll tax (tributum capitis), and custom duties, for which the perennial complaints remained, that the tax collectors had no fixed rate and took more than was due. The rabbis dealt with the many ethical dilemmas that arose, both real and theoretical, on evading taxes while conforming to the dictum of Mar Samuel that the law of the state is the law. There was a general feeling that tax collectors were never lawful, and therefore the law of the state was not in question, and evasion was permissible. Moreover, in the world to come, as wishful thinking (and modern applause) would have it, tax collectors will be confined to the bank of a river with their tongues stretched out but never able to reach the water.162 Forced labor and the billeting of troops continued as before, but the burden increased as anarchy and the movement of armies increased, largely because no one could anticipate the demands. Forced labor included a new tax called the annona, which required payment of goods in kind for the movement of troops. The annona began in the second century as an emergency tax during times of troop movement, but under the Severans it became a regular demand and was all the more valuable as inflation debased the value of the currency and people across the empire went to a barter economy. The provisioning of food was a tax that fell heaviest on the peasant farmers. We hear of Jews hiding their wine in the cemetery when troops approached. But not just the peasants suffered. As a result of the citizenship bestowed by Caracalla, the wealthy were targets for honorary positions in the city councils (boule), which meant responsibility for the tribute. Wealthy Jews were reluctant to


accept the positions and were pressed into it. Rabbi Johanan interpreted the “horn with eyes like a man” in Daniel’s prophecy (7:24) to be the wicked kingdom that casts an envious eye upon a man’s wealth and says, “So-and-so is wealthy: we will make him a city magistrate; So-and-so is wealthy: let us make him a councillor.”163 Nevertheless, the wealthy citizens had to shoulder the burden. Each city was required to provide its share, and if some citizens fled the city, the others had to make up their portion. This led to the painful dilemma of Jews denouncing other Jews to the government. When the peasants fled the land because of their debts, the estate owners were unable to pay the taxes that remained due, and their lands went to the king. Roman citizenship also meant that Jews now were subject to conscriptions. Jewish men of military age were not exempt from military conscription, and the community had to make up for the lost labor to pay the increased taxes. Nor were rabbis exempt from corvée. Johanan noted that evil Rome “levies troops from all the nations of the world.”164 The particular burden of forced labor and taxation increased for the Jews in the Sabbatical Year, when the land was to lie fallow. It appears that by the middle of the century the sabbatical exemption from tribute instituted by Julius Caesar was no longer valid for the annona, and as the burden increased, more people began to ignore the prohibition against harvesting from the land until the rabbis were forced to make provisions. Already Judah I had taken controversial measures to lessen the Sabbatical Year burden. He declared the areas between Caesarea Philippi (Panias) and as far south as Scythopolis (Beth Shean) to be “outside the Holy Land” where the sabbatical law applied. The rabbis criticized him for reversing the decrees of his forefathers and absolutely rejected his attempt to suspend the sabbatical law. But what the patriarch had foreseen in his generation became so obvious around the middle of the third century that Rabbi Yannai suspended the sabbatical law as a “provisional” measure to alleviate the burden of the annona, and his colleagues said nary a word against it.165 The widespread poverty caused the wealthy to protect what they had and the poor to steal it. The traditional class distinction between the learned and unlearned shifted to one between wealthy and the poor. The rabbis preached against theft but also against the oppression of the poor by the wealthy, and the rift between the rabbis and the peasants gradually dissolved. At the same time, rabbinic antagonism against the patriarch, who sided with the hierarchy, and therefore the wealthy, increased. The verdict against the patriarchate, first made against Judah I, was revived when Rabbi Hanina said, “The messiah will not come until kingship [i.e., the patriarchate] is removed from Israel.”166 According to one tradition, Hanina preached on Job 24:16, “In the dark they dig through houses; by day they shut themselves up; they do not know the light.” Hanina used a sermon illustration of how a thief marks the hidden places of the wealthy by day with balsam and returns by night to locate the spot and dig through the walls. That night in Sepphoris, says the tradition, there occurred 300 burglaries.167 The effect of the common foe of want brought the rabbis and the people of the land together. At this time, in the middle of the third century, rabbis apparently took responsibility for the organized supervision of charity, independent of


the patriarch. The rabbis browbeat the wealthy citizens to fulfill their obligations. Said Rabbi Johanan, “Rain is withheld only on account of those who subscribe to charity in public and fail to pay.”168 Other rabbis would compare those who did not give to charity with idolaters, and those who did deserved to have the Divine Presence (shekinah) rest on them. Besides the concern for the poor, it is possible, as scholars have proposed, that the rabbis were responding to the prominent efforts of Christians in charitable giving, evidence of the growing competition between Jewish and Christian clergy. It also reveals the growing prominence of the rabbis in the communal life of the Jews, and with it, rabbinic power.169

17.3 Christians 17.3.1 Roman Persecutions Since the days of Trajan, Christians were punished as members of a potentially subversive sect within the empire, but only when accusations or riots singled them out. They were not hunted down like criminals. But in harsh and uncertain times, Christians increasingly became the focus of the empire-wide frustration. The ignorant masses were offended by the refusal of Christians to worship the gods and thereby contribute to the welfare of the land and the people among whom they lived. And to the charge of atheism, as we have seen, they added cannibalism based on the rumor that Christians ate the body and blood of Christ, because since he was long dead, they must be using the bodies of slain children. The educated Hellenes were offended by the certainty with which the ignorant Christians pronounced on things beyond their comprehension. The general reaction of the educated elite to Christians is expressed by a certain Caecilius: Surely all must feel grieved and indignant and annoyed that certain people—people too ignorant of learning, unlettered, and unacquainted even with the meanest arts—should pronounce definitely upon the universe and the supreme power, which, after all these ages, still forms the subject of the deliberations of the philosophers and their numerous schools. And this is only natural, since human insignificance is quite incapable of investigating things divine. Ill weeds grow apace, and these vicious habits are spreading day by day, and these most abominable haunts where this impious confederacy holds it meetings are multiplying all over the world. These conspirators must be utterly destroyed and cursed.170

Maximin Thrax, the tough Thraican soldier, reacted to the tolerance and degeneration of Alexander Serverus by purging the administration of Christians and attempting to lop off the head of its leadership. Origen responded by writing his book On Martyrdom. The persecution ended with the death of Maximin in 238, and a strengthened Christianity greatly expanded. Twelve years later, when Decius sought to unify the empire by oaths of loyalty that Christians would not take, the result was the first empire-wide prosecution of the subversive Christians. The seed that was, according to Tertullian, the blood of


Christians was now to be sown. Decius ordered all inhabitants of the empire to sacrifice to the gods, taste the meat, and obtain certificates of sacrifice (libelli) as proof of loyalty. What Caracalla’s edict of citizenship had done for the political identity of the empire, Decius sought to do with a universal display of religious devotion. Both Jews and Christians were subject to the decree, but because Judaism was a legal religion, Jews do not seem to have suffered as did Christians. Various bishops, notably Fabian of Rome and Babylas of Antioch, were quickly put to the test and executed. Cyprian of Carthage went into hiding. Pionius, an elder in Smyrna, was arrested while celebrating the anniversary of the martyrdom of Polycarp and went to his death. In the Acts of Pionius, we are told that Jews invited endangered Christians to hide in their synagogues, where they could pass themselves off as Jews. It is not clear whether this meant conversion to Judaism, hence Christian apostasy, or not, but because Christians could save themselves by sacrificing to the gods, a different apostasy, it is likely that Jews were rescuing their Christian neighbors.171 The attack on the leadership of the church had a devastating effect on church members, particularly among the new converts. In Carthage they came in such droves to the Roman cultic sacrifices that the priests had to ask them to come back the next day. Others who could afford it paid a willing official for a certificate of sacrifice, a practice denounced by the clergy but popular just the same. The subversion of imperial decrees by fees to local officials was a long and honorable human tradition that would continue into the Christian empire as well. Had the persecution continued, the history of Christianity might have been significantly altered, but Decius was slain in 251, and his edict died with him. The numbers of martyrs across the empire, if it were ever known, is lost. Some later witnesses speak of thousands, but actual tallies and lists of names suggest hundreds rather than thousands slain. Nevertheless, thousands were imprisoned or in other ways suffered for the faith, and they earned the title of “confessors,” with a great deal of merit stored up in heaven. The witness of martyrs and confessors was sufficient to inflame the spirit of martyrdom.172 As the great urban centers of Christianity recovered from the persecution, a plague swept across the lower Mediterranean lands in 252, and the lapsed Christians flocked back to the church lest they perish unforgiven and lose their souls to hell. Others feared they would succumb to death by plague and miss the opportunity to gain the martyr’s crown. Cyprian returned to Carthage from his hiding only to be confronted by the first of several serious conflicts between the confessors who had stood firm and the weak sacrificati (those who sacrificed) or the libellatici who had purchased their way out of the dilemma. The two groups of Christians, the strong and the weak, are normally described as rigorist and lax, a mentality that persists among people throughout religious history. Cyprian insisted on mild penance and acceptance of the lapsed Christians without being rebaptized, but the rigorists demanded great penance and long delays, lest the blood of the martyrs be shed in vain. The dispute between rigorists and laxists would plague Christianity in North Africa, where the rigorists became the Church of the Martyrs. For the moment, the rigorist party in Rome that opposed concessions to the lapsed Christians felt so strongly about it that they elected their leader, Novatian, as a rival bishop of


Rome and inaugurated a schism called Novatianism. But in the end, both Novatian and Cyprian perished as martyrs during the reign of Valerian.

17.3.2 Christian Intellectuals One of the more notable Christians of this age was Julius Africanus (ca. 180– 250). His presence among the ranks of Christians ought to have alerted some of the imperial elite that Christianity was not only the religion of malcontents and the unwashed masses. He was born in Jerusalem, then Aelia Capitolina, and may have been born a Jew, although the details of his early life are sketchy. He entered a military career, which sent him to a number of places in the empire and brought him to the attention of Severus Alexander. On a visit to Edessa, Africanus met King Abgar VIII (177–212) and went hunting with the crown prince. He also met the theologian and poet Bardaisan, whose skill in archery he admired. The literary works of Africanus include a treatise sent to a certain Aristides on reconciling the genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke, for which he claims to have gotten records from descendants of the family of Jesus still living in Nazareth.173 He wrote a 24-volume work on natural history and a miscellanea, dedicated to Severus Alexander. It may have influenced the emperor to build his chapel devoted to the heroes of religion. He retired in Palestine in the city of Nicopolis (formerly Emmaus). Throughout his illustrious career he rubbed shoulders with bishops, kings, and emperors, yet there was never an indication that his faith, which was surely known, put him in danger. Origen (ca. 185–254) was a middle-aged presbyter in Caesarea Maritima in Palestine when Maximin renewed the persecution of Christians in 235. Born in Alexandria, Origen applied himself to study in the catechetical school where his father Leonides taught, and he became well-known for his heterodox intellect. During the persecutions of Severus in 202, Leonides was condemned to death and beheaded. Origen determined to follow his father in martyrdom, but, as the story goes, his mother begged him to save his life for the good of his six younger siblings. When he would not be deterred, she hid his clothes to prevent him from going out to his death. In the end he won the crown of martyrdom, but the Christian world may thank his nameless mother for delaying it and permitting the flame of his brilliant mind to burn another half century. After the peace had returned, Origen taught in the school of Alexandria, and the bishop, Demetrius, soon elevated Origen to the chair held by Clement, who had fled the city. With this great responsibility, he entered into a life of poverty and ascetic disciplines. Eusebius believed Origen applied the words of Jesus on becoming a eunuch in Matt 19:12 literally and castrated himself. A different account says he used drugs to suppress the sexual urges. Wherever the truth may lie, he devoted himself to the life of a celibate scholar. During the following decade, he made a journey to Arabia and to Rome, where he heard the famous Hippolytus preach. Origen persuaded a certain Ambrosius, a wealthy follower of the Valentinian Gnostic belief, to follow orthodox Christianity. Ambrosius became his patron and facilitated the publication of all his formal


writings. In 215 Origen fled Alexandria in the wake of the insurrection against Caracalla and went to Palestine. His reputation preceded him, and he was invited to lecture to the bishops. While this was a common practice in Palestine, where they separated the teaching and pastoral ministries, it was a breach of the Alexandrian church protocol. Demetrius chastised his impertinence and recalled him to Alexandria. There, Origen devoted himself to writing and produced an impressive catalogue of exegetical and apologetic works. Around 230, he traveled to Athens, where he engaged Gnostics in a debate. The Gnostics pointed out that catholic theology couched a dualism between good and evil because Satan is forever evil. Origen responded that Satan chose evil by his will, but ultimately Satan too, might be saved. The debate was published, and the thought that Satan could be saved shocked the clerical world, including bishop Demetrius. Origen received his first of many condemnations of heresy. The following year, Origen accepted an offer from the bishop of Caesarea to settle in the capital city of Palestine. It was an offer Origen could not refuse. He was made a presbyter and given a library, a pool of scribes, and leisure to study and teach. Origen brought his own library from Alexandria, which contained, we may be certain, nearly the complete oeuvre of Philo of Alexandria. It was in the hands of this disciple that Philo’s reputation finally reached Palestine, and from the great library at Caesarea, permeated Christian theology. Origen realized that a command of the Hebrew language was essential to understanding the Hebrew canon of Scripture, and he employed a prominent Jewish scholar to instruct him in Hebrew. Based on information from Jerome, the scholar is often thought to have been a member of the patriarchal household, Hillel, the brother of Judah II, but the identity of the Jew is unknown, and he may have been from Alexandria, not Palestine.174 The result of Origen’s desire to understand the original Word of God was his famous Hexapla (sixfold), in which he laid out in columns the Hebrew text, a transliteration of the Hebrew text into Greek characters, and the Greek versions of Aquila, Symmachus, the Septuagint, and Theodotion. The mammoth enterprise, begun in Alexandria and finished in Caesarea around 245, remained in the library of Caesarea and was probably never copied in full, although the Greek versions were available in an edition called the Tetrapla. Origen’s literary work was prodigious, in treatises, homilies, commentaries, letters, and his response Against Celsus (Contra Celsum). A century later, Jerome would lament that he had not the time to even read everything Origen wrote. The prominence of Origen left him a marked man for torture during the persecution of Decius and Valerian. In 251, Origen spent some months in a dungeon, and often on the rack. It was hoped that his recantation would inspire many others to recant. But he, having encouraged other martyrs before him, kept the faith. Although he was not executed, his broken body did not long survive the ordeal, and he died around 254.175 Cyprian (ca. 200–258), like his predecessor Tertullian, was born into a North African Hellene home, trained in rhetoric, and enjoyed a prestigious position as master of Latin rhetoric at Carthage. But he had a conscience that bristled at the inhumanities in Carthaginian society: the corrupt judges, the torture of innocent people accused of crimes, the savagery of gladiatorial games, and rampant


prostitution. He converted to Christianity around 246 and turned his education and skills to the study of Scripture and the works of Tertullian, so that within 2 years, when the office of bishop opened, he was elected to it. Soon after, the Decian persecutions fell upon the Christians, and Cyprian fled Carthage. When he returned in 251, he found himself embroiled in the dispute over those Christians who had denied the faith to save their lives as they sought to return to communion with the confessors, those who had endured and lived. A dispute arose over the nature and duration of the required penance. When a plague broke out in 252, many accused the lapsed Christians for it, and the conflict continued. Cyprian engaged in a heated exchange of letters with Stephen, bishop of Rome, over the rebaptism of schismatics in the church. The battle was cut short by the renewed persecutions under Valerian in 257. During the Valerian persecution, Cyprian was banished but went into hiding in Carthage, and eventually he gave himself up to execution. On September 14, Cyprian was brought to trial at the villa of Sextus, in Carthage, where the proconsul Galerius Maximus sat in judgment. The record of his trial is preserved and provides a good example of implementation of Roman law.176 Galerius Maximus: Are you Thascius Cyprianus? Cyprian: I am. Galerius Maximus: The most sacred emperors have commanded you to conform to the Roman rites. Cyprian: I refuse. Galerius Maximus: Take heed for yourself. Cyprian: Do as you are bid; in so clear a case I may not take heed. Galerius, after briefly conferring with his judicial council, with much reluctance pronounced the following sentence: You have long lived an irreligious life, and have drawn together a number of men bound by an unlawful association, and professed yourself an open enemy to the gods and the religion of Rome; and the pious, most sacred and august emperors, Valerian and Gallienus, and the most noble Caesar Valerian, have endeavored in vain to bring you back to conformity with their religious observances— whereas, therefore, you have been apprehended as principal and ringleader in these infamous crimes, you shall be made an example to those whom you have wickedly associated with you; the authority of law shall be ratified in your blood. He then read the sentence of the court from a written tablet: It is the sentence of this court that Thacius Cyprianus be executed with the sword. Cyprian: Thanks be to God.

Chapter 18

Diocletian and the Great Persecution of the Church (284–312 c.e.)

18.1 Rome and Persia 18.1.1 Rome: Diocletian and Maximian The origins of Diocles are obscure. He was probably from Dalmatia (modern Croatia), which along with Pannonia comprised the ethnic territory of the Illyrians, formerly the province of Illyricum. The Illyrians were another of the most ancient Indo-European groups that settled the Balkans, an ethnicity that today is preserved only among the Albanians. The task awaiting the new ruler was to defend the empire, then reorganize it. After removing Carinus and a usurper, Diocletian came to Italy, where he made a comrade-in-arms, Maximian, his Caesar and gave him the task of regaining Gaul. Diocletian secured the east, setting Tiridates II on the throne of Armenia and defending against the Raetians, Sarmatians, and Saracens in the northeast. He visited Palestine, residing for a time in Panias, and according to a rabbinic tradition he met with the Patriarch Judah III. Maximian suppressed the revolt in Gaul and was given the title of Augustus. In order to retrieve the title of Augustus from the trash heap, Diocletian clothed the new government in hoary antiquity and divine privilege. Diocletian took the title Jovius (Jove), Maximian was named Herculius (Hercules), and they both assumed a divine sanction to rule, the precursor of the divine right of kings, imitating, perhaps, the Sasanians. Diocletian also adopted the royal trappings of the Persian court and appeared in purple and gold robes and jeweled slippers, with a diadem on his head. Commoners who entered his presence had to prostrate themselves, and an official’s rank was distinguished by the number of curtains through which he passed to obtain an audience.177 The old imperial civilization was surrounded by an inexhaustible supply of barbarians, and both rulers waged war to hold the vast empire together. In 293, Diocletian established the tetrarchy: four rulers comprised of two Augusti and two Caesars. The Caesars would succeed as Augusti and choose their own Caesars for succession. Maximian took Constantius Chlorus as his Caesar, Diocletian took Galerius. The arrangement was more than administrative; it was meant to be

Diocletian and the Great Persecution of the Church 393

dynastic. Each new Caesar divorced his wife and married into the august family. Constantius already had a very able son, Constantine, by his first wife, Helena, but the golden ladder had its rungs, so he divorced Helena and married Theodora, the daughter of Maximian. (But Helena would have her revenge and rise well above the Diocletian designs.) The empire was by this means kept intact, governed by four monarchs in two divine dynasties: the Jovian (Diocletian and Galeius) and the Herculean (Maximian and Constantius). The new imperial cities were Nicomedia in Bithynia, Milan in Italy, Sirmium in Illyricum, and Trier in northeastern Gaul. Diocletian governed the East from Nicomedia, while his Caesar, Galerius, governed most of the Danubian (Balkan) provinces from Sirmium (Sremska Mitrovica, Serbia). Maximian, in Mediolanum (Milan), was responsible for the west, Italy and Africa (lands west of Egypt), and his Caesar, Constantius, governed Gaul and Britain from Augusta Treverorum (Trier in German, Trèves in French). Over the next decade, each ruler attained a measure of stability by putting down the inevitable revolts and expanding imperial hegemony. By 296, Constantius campaigned in Britain and brought it under his control, while Diocletian suppressed a revolt in Egypt. The following year, Narses, king of Persia, after deposing his brother Hurmazd from power, drove Tiridates II from Armenia and set his own king on the throne. Galerius invaded Persia and lost his first battle, but he returned in 298, drove the Persians out of Armenia, and captured the capital, Ctesiphon. Rome restored the throne to Tiridates III, son of Tiridates II, and returned Armenia to Roman hegemony. Galerius, a hater of Christians, could not know that he had just installed the man who would make Armenia the first Christian kingdom. As pressures on the empire subsided, Diocletian attempted major social and fiscal reforms. The city of Rome was no longer the center of the empire. Each ruler dwelt in a place suitable to his rule. Already the numbers of soldiers under four rulers had increased the number of legions. Now the number of provinces was nearly doubled by dividing them into smaller ones. The smaller provinces were organized into twelve administrative units called dioceses (Greek for administrative unit), and each diocese was headed by a vicarius (a substitute for the Praetorian prefect). The origins of later church organization will be apparent. The armies were separated from civil administration by relieving governors of military control and giving it to generals called duces (singular dux). Imperial taxation was replaced with a regional system based on head count and units of predefined productive agrarian capacity. A head, or caput, was usually a male between the ages of 12 and 65; in some places women were counted as a whole, a part, or none of a caput. Obviously the census, taken every 15 years, became essential to the revenue of the empire. And it was important that peasants remain in the land for most of that time, and that the laborers of essential trades, such as bakers for the bread dole, remain in their guilds and raise their sons to do the same. Despite efforts to control the wealthy class and require them to share in the administrative duties, the rich had the better of it, and the foundations of serfdom were laid. Ever since Caracalla extended Roman citizenship to all free men of the empire in 212, the need for a new social unification of the vast and ethnically disparate


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populace that made up the empire became increasingly evident. The emperor cult begun under Augustus Caesar had served as a focus of imperial unity, but the times and the makeup of the empire had changed. Emperors no longer inspired such devotion. But even the emperor had been merely the pontifex maximus for the Roman state gods, so Dicoletian turned to the old Roman religion and the traditions that made the empire great. He called for a return to what it meant to be a Roman. Everyone must honor and sacrifice to the old gods, because the survival of Rome had always depended on the good will of the gods, and the greatness of Rome had come from its rigorous observance of religious rituals (religio). This was a problem only for monotheists. Jews, however, had their officially sanctioned means of expressing loyalty to the state, through sacrifices and prayers to their God on behalf of the state, so they were allowed to continue in their traditions. Two other religious traditions were not. Diocletian banned Christianity and the more recent Manichaeanism, a blend of Christianity, Gnosticism, and Zoroastrianism. Diocletian’s edict against the Manichaeans around 297 demonstrates the Roman stance on religion, one that had scarcely changed since the days of Augustus, as shown by a summary of the prologue: Peace sometimes allows the spread of most foolish and base doctrines by wicked men, but the gods by their providence have shown mankind what is right and true; they must not be resisted, and “established religion ought not be criticized by a new one.” It is a very serious charge if one tampers with what has been laid down absolutely and definitely by the ancients. The Emperors regard it as their bounden duty to inflict punishment on those who spread the propaganda of new sects against the revelation of antiquity.178

The Manichaeans, said the emperor, are “like new and unexpected monstrosities” that must be exterminated. They have arisen out of the race of Persians, who are at enmity with Rome, to inflict the peaceful race of Romans with their accursed morals. The leaders are to be “burnt, along with their abominable scriptures,” and their followers are to be punished with death, and their property confiscated to the treasury. Men of high status, honestiores, will be sent to labor in the mines, their property confiscated. The effects of the edict soon extended to Christians. The origin of the official persecution against Christians is traced by Lactantius to a colorful anecdote in 299. While seeking omens for his campaign in the East, the priestly diviners (haruspices) of Diocletian were inspecting the livers of sacrificial animals but were unable to read the signs. Some noticed that Christian soldiers standing by put the immortal sign on their foreheads (perhaps a cross to protect them from the demons), and these impious men, they said, were obstructing the divination. A furious Diocletian ordered everyone in the place to sacrifice to the gods, and those who refused were scourged. He then made the same requirement on all soldiers and dismissed from service all who would not.179 By 303, Diocletian was further convinced that Christians were behind a nefarious plot to undermine the oracles of the empire, which had become incomprehensible.180 He issued a series of edicts that banned Christian assemblies, required the burning of liturgical books, and demolished many of the church buildings.


Christians who would not swear by the gods could not use the courts, and other privileges of citizenship were rescinded. In due course, Christian leaders were arrested, and some were executed. As in previous times, amnesty was offered to any Christian who would sacrifice to a Roman god. Some Christians gave in, but far too few for Christianity to be greatly weakened. Anti-Christian hostility was the strongest in Africa, and the edicts were carried out there with the greatest fervor. In Gaul, Constantius had no interest in the persecution, and though he followed through on demolishing churches, confiscation of property, book burning, and arrests as necessary, he executed no one. The persecution of Christians went on sporadically for 10 years. Diocletian made good on an earlier promise to abdicate the throne after 20 years. On May 1, 305, he and a reluctant Maximian resigned, and the Caesars Galerius and Constantius succeeded as Augusti. The retiring rulers selected new Caesars: under Constantius, Severus, a military commander and friend of Galerius, was appointed Caesar to rule Italy; under Galerius, his nephew Maximinus was appointed Caesar over Syria and Egypt. The sons of the new Augusti, Maxentius son of Maximian and Constantine son of Constantius, however, rejected these appointments on the grounds that they should succeed their fathers as the new Caesars.

18.1.2 Rise of Constantine Constantine, full name Flavius Valerius Constantius, was an Illyrian by birth from the city of Naissus in Moesia (Serbia). He had resided in the court of Diocletian at Nicomedia, where he served as tribune and learned the eastern art of absolute rule. He also knew the ways of court intrigue, and after Galerius released him from service at the request of his father Constantius, Constantine fled to Gesoriacum (Boulogne, France) soon after the new Caesars took office. His date of birth is uncertain, somewhere between 272 and 288, but he was probably in his twenties at the time. Constantine fought in Britain alongside his father. The following year Constantius died in Eboracum (York). The army, always eager for glory, acclaimed Constantine emperor. He accepted the acclamation and launched his campaign for power. Constantine began his rule by rescinding the edict against Christians and restoring their property. As a political alliance, he also married Maximian’s daughter Fausta as his second wife. His first wife, Minervina, had given him a son, Crispus. Galerius responded by appointing another high-ranking commander, Valerius Licinius, as Augustus in opposition to the usurper Constantine. Each Augustus knew the battle for a supreme ruler had been joined. Maxentius, following Constantine’s star, proclaimed himself Caesar in Rome and recalled his father into service as Augustus. Maximian accepted the offer, and together they defeated Severus, who then abdicated. Temporarily then, the empire’s four thrones had six claimants: Galerius, senior Augustus in the East with Maximinus his Caesar, Constantine, the self-proclaimed Augustus in Gaul, Maximian and his son Maxentius in Italy, and Licinius in Pannonia. The game of elimination began. Galerius convened a council in 308 in an attempt to solve the conflicts and


save the tetrarchy. Maximian was compelled to step down, and Licinius replaced Severus as Augustus, while Constantine was recognized as his Caesar. Maxentius was again ignored. Neither Constantine nor Maxentius accepted the solution. Soon after, Maximian tried to oust his son-in-law Constantine and was forced to commit suicide at Marseilles.181 Around this time, according to an anonymous orator preserved in the Latin Panegyrics, Constantine beheld a vision of Apollo granting him dominion over all the world. The eastern Syrian cult of Sol Invictus, already introduced to Rome by Elagabalus and Aurelian, was identified with Apollo and Helios and was the primary deity of Constantius I. The mystical experience probably took place in the Grand Temple of Sun, Sol Invictus, in Gaul, and forms an intriguing background for what is to come in the life of Constantine.182 Galerius died in May 311. During his last days, he rescinded his persecution of Christians, but his successor, Maximinus, revived it. Constantine decided the time was right to attack Maxentius, and he allied himself with Licinius by offering the hand of his half-sister Constantia in marriage. Maximinus, the legitimate successor to Galerius, responded by recognizing Maxentius as emperor. Constantine invaded Italy with the stalwart Gauls and joined battle with Maxentius outside Rome in the battle of the Milvian Bridge. Prior to this battle, Constantine had his famous mystical experience. By his own reckoning to the historian Eusebius many years later, he had appealed to the Deity, probably Sol Invictus, to grant him victory in his hour of need. Suddenly, he saw in the heavens, above the sun, a bright light in the sign of a cross, or the symbol (chi-rho) ☧ with the words beneath: In Hoc Signo Vinces, “By this sign conquer.”183 The chi (Χ) and the rho (Ρ) are the first two letters of CHRIST (ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ) in Greek upper case script. Some have suggested that what Constantine and his men saw was a solar halo, a natural winter phenomenon in which sunlight forms a semicircular halo on the ice crystals in the upper atmosphere, with bright crosses above and on either side. Seen with the eyes of faith, this was a sign of victory and grace.184 Lanctantius, writing somewhat earlier, says Constantine had a dream instructing him to paint the chi-rho symbol on the shields of his men. The relationship of this vision to his earlier vision of Apollo is tantalizing, but on the face of it, both bespeak a religious man, and the accounts are not mutually exclusive. It is possible that Constantine saw the solar halo already in 310, and later in a dream, he realized it came not from Apollo but from the God of the Christians. A long tradition of solar monotheism among intellectuals, as well as veneration among the masses and even among Christians, facilitated the conversion of Constantine.185 All accounts tell of a man seeking God, and perhaps through stages of revelation, much as Paul of Tarsus had believed in God, his eyes were opened, and he saw more clearly. Paul might have said to Constantine, as he did to the men of Athens concerning their altar dedicated TO AN UNKNOWN GOD, “What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.”186 Constantine’s conversion, the telling of which by Eusebius is modeled on Paul, would become the paradigm for the conversion of future Germanic kings and their peoples. Whatever the nature of Constantine’s experience, his faithful soldiers emblazoned the chi-rho on their shields. Maxentius


was quickly routed, and during the retreat in full armor on his horse, he drowned in the Tiber. Once again, the city of Rome opened its gates to a new conqueror.

18.1.3 Sasanian Persia Shah-an-shah Bahram II remained preoccupied with troubles on his eastern frontier for most of his reign, and therefore he was unable to prevent Diocletian from reestablishing Roman hegemony over Armenia and north Mesopotamia. After Diocletian set Tiridates III (287–313) on the throne of Armenia, the new vassal king, with the support of the Armenian princes, declared independence from Persia and drove out the Persians within a year. In the heart of Persia, Kartir, the chief of the magi, continued his oppression of the minority religions, and thus contributed to the weakness of the empire. Upon the death of Bahram, his son Bahram III ruled for but a few months, until his uncle Narseh disposed of him. Narseh (Narses) (293–302), the next Shah-an-shah, gradually led his supporters to control the empire. Narseh reversed the policy of religious persecution and returned to the toleration of Shapur I. He stopped patronizing the fire temples and apparently purged the magians of their fanatics, for Kartir disappears from view, even though he lived on.187 Narseh also reversed the policy against the Manichaeans in the hope of winning their support in the west for his campaigns against Rome. The political goal of Narseh was to regain the lands of Armenia and Mesopotamia lost to Rome by Bahram II. Initially he won a victory over Galerius and controlled much of Mesopotamia, but in 297, he lost a decisive battle to Galerius, and with it his harem, so that he sued for peace. At this point, Rome got back all it had lost and extended its control over lands up to the Tigris River. The kingdom of Iberia (modern Georgia) which controlled the passes across the Caucasus Mountains, became a Roman protectorate. The frontier city of Nisibis, again within the Roman Empire, became the central port of exchange for trade between the two empires. The peace reached between Narseh and Diocletian was to last 40 years. In 302, Narseh died and was succeeded by his son Hurmazd II. Although Hurmazd II (302–309) was remembered as a strong and popular leader, little else of his reign is preserved.

18.2 Jews 18.2.1 Palestinian Jews The triumph of Diocletian brought stability to Palestine. While residing in Panias, perhaps in 286, Diocletian is said to have delivered an order on a sabbath eve that the patriarch in Tiberias must appear before him on the first day of the week, which would force him to desecrate the sabbath. Judah III was distraught, but according to the legend, he and his advisor were taken to Panias miraculously. When granted the audience, Diocletian accused them of having insulted him for his humble origins at some point earlier in his reign. They did not deny it but replied, “Diocletian the


swineherd we did indeed insult, but to Diocletian the emperor we are loyal subjects.” He said, “Even so, you must not insult the humblest Roman or the lowest soldier.” Despite the miraculous elements of the tradition, an audience between a visiting emperor and the patriarch is to be expected. Likewise, public scorn at the chaotic state of Roman government in the final years before Diocletian, and of Diocletian himself, may well have been expressed in the court of Judah III and remembered by the Roman administrators who later placed the patriarch in a compromised position. At the least, the tradition recalls some tension between the Jewish leaders and Rome, but also rabbinic loyalty to the new emperor.188 Another rabbi of priestly descent was so eager to see the emperor during his visit to Tyre in that he took a shortcut through a cemetery, sacrificing his ritual purity. Two rabbis, citing a precedent by Johanan b. Nappaha, pronounced the action justified in order to see a great man.189 Abbahu of Caesarea ( fl. 280–320) was the most prominent Palestinian Jew of this age, and certainly among the most important for this history. He was, according to tradition, a true elite, both wealthy and wise, a handsome man fluent in Greek who rubbed shoulders with the proconsular government of Rome.190 After his ordination into the rabbinate, he declined a teaching post in Sepphoris, offering it to a poor colleague. Abbahu eventually replaced Rabbi Hoshaiah in Caesarea, where he took leadership of the well-established Turbulent Synagogue, probably the same synagogue mentioned by Josephus from which sprang the riots in 66 that contributed to the turmoil of the war against Rome.191 As leader of the Jews in Caesarea, he frequented the imperial court in the city and was highly respected by the Roman administration. It is said that the ladies of the court went out to receive him and sang to him: “Great man of thy people, leader of thy nation, lantern of light, thy coming be blessed with peace.”192 Despite his eminence, Abbahu was noted for his humility. When his wife complained that the wife of a colleague boasted of her husband’s reputation, Abbahu replied that only the glory of God attained by each sage mattered, not worldly distinction. Over his career, Abbahu issued a number of halakhic decisions. His regulation of the blowing of the shofar became the standard in later centuries, known as the “Takhanat Rabbi Abbahu.” After investigating the wine-making practices of Samaritans, he declared them equivalent to Gentiles. On the whole, he is known for keeping the law strictly but giving a lenient interpretation for the common people. Tradition recalls that on one occasion while teaching in the synagogue, Abbahu saw a man about to strike a neighbor with a stick. Abbahu shouted to the man, “Do you want to kill your neighbor?” The man protested that his little stick could kill no one. Abbahu answered, “See, there is a demon behind you with an iron rod; when you strike the man with the stick, he will strike him and the man will die!”193 Abbahu also stands out among the rabbis for his ability and willingness to engage Jewish believers in discussion. Because Abbahu was a contemporary of Pamphilus of Caesarea and his pupil Eusebius, all leaders of their communities, it is hard to believe they never engaged each other; a matter we will take up later. When Abbahu died of old age, it was said “the columns of Caesarea ran with tears.”194 Hiyya II bar Abba, another great rabbi of the day, is to be distinguished from Hiyya the Elder (also bar Abba) of the previous generation. Hiyya II was known for


his poverty, not his wealth. Like Eleazar ben Pedat, he was from Babylonia and had known Mar Samuel, but he came to Palestine, where he studied under Resh Lakish and became a disciple of Rabbi Johanan. He supported himself as an itinerant lecturer, which meant lecturing on the more popular haggadah (Jewish lore), though he esteemed halakhah far above it. The economic decline of the third century was accompanied by a general decline in the power and prestige of the patriarchate. At one time, Judah II sent Hiyya and others to visit the towns of Palestine and renew interest in the study of Torah, while another time Hiyya was commissioned to collect money for the patriarchate.195 Two other Babylonian Jews came to Palestine and made their marks. Simeon bar Abba migrated to Palestine for the study of Torah. He remained a poor man all his life and may have worked as a grave digger in Sepphoris. He was apparently a relative of Mar Samuel, for when two daughters of Mar Samuel were brought as captives to Palestine (perhaps from the war in Palmyra), Simeon married one according to Levirate law, and after she died, he married the other.196 The other Babylonian sage, Ze’era, studied under Hisda, Huna, and Judah ben Ezekiel in Pumbedita during his youth in Babylonia and was a colleague of Sheshet. At some point he dreamed of a pilgrimage to Palestine. Before departing, he fasted for 100 days in order to forget the dialectic of Judah ben Ezekiel, which he suspected would hinder his learning in Palestine. When he reached the River Jordan, he was so focused on his goal that he forded the river without removing his cloak. When an “unbeliever” (possibly Jewish believer) mocked him, Ze’era replied, “Why should not I be impatient when I pursue a blessing which was denied even to Moses and Aaron?”197

18.2.2 Babylonian Jews The Jews of Babylonia do not appear to have suffered extreme measures, despite Kartir’s claim to have opposed them, for rabbinic tradition left no trace of it. The accord reached between Mar Samuel and Shapur I must have set a precedent for the protection of Jews as a loyal religious minority. Such legitimacy would not prevent a local magi, or the occasional zealous mob, from tormenting a Jewish community, but there seems to have been no imperially sanctioned persecution. Fasting was forbidden at certain times in the Persian religious calendar, and the Jewish use of lamps for religious rites was prohibited on certain occasions when they coincided with Mazdean holy days. Possibly, Torah scrolls were burned or desecrated as well. Jews may have been excluded from administrative positions they had formerly enjoyed, such as overseers of canals or tax collectors, a position often filled by Jews. Despite these hardships, the Jews within the Sasanian Empire were less persecuted than Christians, and certainly less than the Manichaeans, who had to flee the land.198 Among the Jews, signs of opposition between the rabbis and the exilarchs begin to appear. The school of Nehardea had not recovered from the destruction of Nehardea in 259/260, though rabbis lived there. The school at Sura now took the lead, and a new school would soon be founded in Pumbedita by independently minded rabbis.


The tension between rabbis and the exilarchate is most dramatically portrayed by a brief Talmudic anecdote set during the reign of Exilarch Mar Ukba II ( fl. 270–290). A certain rabbi named Geniva, well learned and respected, challenged and annoyed Mar Ukba. The challenge was serious enough that the exilarch, after consulting with colleagues in Palestine, handed Geniva over to the Persian authorities, who executed him. The nature of the dispute is not recorded but may have involved authority over the academies. Geniva argued that rabbis themselves ought to rule as kings because they were the sages, representatives of divine wisdom, and according to Prov 8:15, Wisdom says, “By me kings rule.” There were no doubt normal personality conflicts among the high court system, and Geniva may have had a legitimate complaint at having been passed over for leadership. Geniva’s teachers, Rabbi Huna and Rabbi Hisda, were both wary of Geniva’s outspokenness against the exilarch and considered him a dissident. But the conflict may have involved differing interpretations of Jewish affairs, where the exilarch followed more closely to Persian laws, in keeping with Mar Samuel’s dictum, and some rabbis sought to follow their interpretation of Torah. Geniva’s challenge to the exilarch, in any case, would have given the Sasanian government cause to remove him. That the exilarch could hand a rabbi over for execution suggests the Jewish community sided with the exilarch, and not the rabbis. Geniva was the first rabbi to openly challenge the authority of the exilarch to appoint high judges and heads of the academies. At the time, the community and a majority of the rabbis still valued communal unity more highly than power and knew the value of the exilarchate. But the division had begun, and the conflicts would grow.199 18.2.2.1 School in Sura Rav Huna, “the Babylonian” (ca. 216–297), took over the leadership of the school in Sura from Rav and remained its head for some 40 years. Under his leadership, the school rose in prestige, from being called a sidra to the designation of yeshiva (Aramaic metiba), normally translated as academy. Although the traditional view of size and formal academic standing of the schools in Babylonia has been qualified by current scholarship, the tenure of Huna marked an advance in the reputation of Babylonian schools of rabbinic learning. The problem of a lack of reliable source material about the schools has long been recognized. We know Huna’s tenure became legendary; for it was said that when his pupils rose from a lesson and shook out their garments, a cloud of dust filled the air, so that in Palestine, perhaps tongue in cheek, people would look at an overcast sky and remark, “They have risen from the lectures of Rav Huna the Babylonian.”200 It is difficult to know whether such hyperbole existed in the day of Huna or came later, but his life left its mark in rabbinic memory. Like all great masters of tradition, Huna was willing to disagree with previous rulings. He also studied medicine and natural history and claimed, “He who only occupies himself with the study of the Torah is as if he had no God.”201 This refreshing admission that God is ruler of all disciplines, not just the halakhah, encouraged Jews to pursue all disciplines of knowledge. Upon his death, the body of Huna was transported to Palestine and laid to rest beside Hiyya


Rabbah, because “R. Huna disseminated Torah in Israel and R. Hiyya had likewise disseminated Torah in Israel.”202 Hisda (ca. 216–308/9) descended from a priestly family in Babylonia and studied under Rav. In his early poverty he shunned vegetables because they increased his hunger, and when walking among thorns, he would raise his trousers (Persian pantaloons) and let his legs be scratched, since his legs healed of themselves, but his clothes did not.203 He taught in the school of Sura, headed by Huna, and by his astute rulings enhanced the school’s reputation. After some time, however, Hisda felt Huna did not show sufficient appreciation for his acumen and broke from his elder colleague, and they were reconciled only after each had fasted and shown remorse. Hisda entered the brewer’s trade and gained considerable wealth.204 He founded his own school at Mata Mehassia, near Sura, but rendered no independent decisions brought to him in the district under the jurisdiction of Huna until after the death of Huna. He spent his last decade as the head of the Sura academy. Hisda is said to have lived to the ripe old age of 92. Tradition puts Hisda and Huna among the “Hasidim of Babylonia,” those who could pray for rain and receive it.205 Rabbah b. Rav Huna (d. 322) took the leadership at the academy of Sura on the death of Hisda (309). Although details are not given, Rabbah b. Rav Huna quarreled with the household of the exilarchs, Nehemiah (290–313) and Mar Ukba III (313–337), over his authority to make legal judgments. He rejected the authority of the exilarch and claimed rather he received authority from his father Huna, who received it from Rav, who in turn got his from Rabbi Hiyya in Palestine, who received his from Rabbi, Judah I.206 The exchange serves as evidence for the growing antagonism between the Babylonian rabbis and the exilarch, whom rabbinic traditions rarely mention by name. 18.2.2.2 School in Pumbedita Judah ben Ezekiel (ca. 220–299) studied under Rav in Sura, and briefly under Samuel in Nehardea. Judah, a keen observer of plants and animals, incorporated his knowledge of nature into his study of Torah. He was able to argue that a certain species of flamingo was permitted as food, while others were not.207 Toward the end of the century, Judah opened a school in Pumbedita, further up the Euphrates River. There he introduced a new method of instruction that required an exact differentiation of the subjects under examination, and he is therefore known as the founder of Talmudic dialectics. Not all scholars agreed with the linguistic subtlety he advocated, however, but the younger generation was enamored of it, and his school grew rapidly. Judah is numbered among those who preserved the study of Torah from oblivion.208 Rav Huna b. Hiyya served the exilarch as a tax collector. Upon the death of Rabbi Judah b. Ezekiel in 299, the exilarch appointed Huna to head the academy at Pumbedita. Although the traditions are ambiguous, it is supposed that the rabbis rejected the appointment of Huna, unless he gave up his position as tax collector, and presented the exilarchate with its first opposition from the more unified sages. Huna gave up his position as tax collector, and thereby gave the rabbis a victory and set a precedent for the appointment of heads of schools.209


Nahman b. Jacob (d. 320) served in Nehardea as the chief judge for the court of the exilarch, to whom he was allied through marriage. He often mediated between rabbis. He reputedly was a disciple of Mar Samuel during the master’s last years and was appointed head of the school at Nehardea. After the destruction of Nehardea (259), he took his pupils east to Shekanzib, a city on the Tigris. He was among the most wealthy and influential rabbis of his day, and he conjectured that if the messiah were to come from among living men, he would resemble Nahman b. Jacob, citing Jer 30:21 as a proof text: “Their prince shall be one of their own, their ruler shall come from their midst.”210 Sheshet, a colleague of Nahman b. Jacob, lived in Nehardea for some years. He was blind but studied in the synagogue by listening to others, and he hired a reader for the Mishnah and rabbinic traditions. By his prodigious memory, he became a gadfly to many a rabbinical scholar, and it is said that he intimidated even scholars like Hisda. He relied heavily on tradition and invariably started with the Mishnah or a baraita (a teaching of the Tannaim in Hebrew, not Aramaic), deducing his opinions from their rulings. Sheshet disapproved of the new dialectic at Pumbedita and often opposed them. Once, after rendering a decision based on a Tannaitic tradition, another scholar began to question the precise meaning of the words. Sheshet replied, “Are you then from Pumbedita, where they draw an elephant through the eye of a needle?”211 Later in life he moved to Shilhi, where he began his own school.

18.3 Christians The theology of the new followers of Mani, or the Maniac, as Eusebius punned the name,212 was too gnostic to survive the scrutiny of the bishops, but their morality was above reproach, and their inclination toward asceticism is thought to have influenced the growth of monasticism among Christians. The political instability during the age of crisis invited many an austere soul to withdraw from tumultuous humanity.

18.3.1 Monasticism Seclusion from the labors of life had gone on for centuries. Some Greek philosophers, Buddhists from the east, and Jews of the Essenes, or the Therapeutae known to Philo in Egypt, had formed ascetic communities and developed regimens for loosening the soul from its attachment to the hungers of the body. We do not know to what extent the Essenes or the Therapeutae of Egypt survived, but each generation brought forth a new crop of such souls, and in third-century Egypt, Christian asceticism emerged into the record of history with its own identity. The Saint Paul of Christian monasticism is Saint Anthony (ca. 253–356). Around 270, a young Egyptian Christian named Anthony was pondering the examples of the apostles who gave up everything to serve God. One day in church he heard the Gospel read, in which Jesus responded to the rich young man: “If you


wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” Anthony, at age 18, gave away his possessions and a comfortable farmer’s plot, and he moved to a small village where others had taken up poverty and simplicity. He submitted himself to one old man who taught him the ascetic life. Gradually, he withdrew from their presence, first living amid the tombs at the edge of the village. Then, at age 35, he departed into the vast desert, where he found an abandoned fort in the mountainous terrain, and there he lodged. His goal was not so much mortification of the flesh as solitude and spiritual warfare. Other hermits who came to see him would camp nearby and await an audience. Sometimes, we are told, they heard voices and the growls of the demons battling Anthony for the same space. For 20 years he remained in his mountain shrine and mastered his discipline. When he came forth, according to his biographer, Athanasius, those who saw him “wondered at the sight, for he had the same habit of body as before, and was neither fat, like a man without exercise, nor lean from fasting and striving with the demons, but he was just the same as they had known him before his retirement [to the mountain].”213 Thus began the ministry of the hermit Anthony. He would live more than a century, much of it in a cave near the Red Sea and witness the triumph of his faith. On occasion he emerged from his solitude in the mountains to meet with church leaders. He became the embodiment of the holy man and inspired many generations of monks who would colonize the desert of Egypt. His goal, which he imparted to others, was the purification of the soul, which is the image of God, and the final return of the soul to God. He taught other hermits to learn as much of the Scripture by heart as they were able, most assuredly the Psalms, and to support themselves by some labor, such as basket weaving, but only enough to be able to give to a beggar. He also advised them to fight temptation by keeping a daily record of their actions and their sins so that shame could spur them on.

18.3.2 Hellenes versus Christians After the brief but empire-wide persecution of Decius (251), Christianity greatly expanded. This alarmed not only the emperors charged with imperial stability and defense against the enemies of Rome but also the intellectuals who saw Christian monotheism (as distinct from philosophical monotheism) as a serious threat to the traditional Greco-Roman way of life. Chief among the Hellene literati was a man named Porphyry. 18.3.2.1 Porphyry A widely traveled Phoenician, gentleman of letters, and a student of Plotinus, Porphyry (ca. 232–310) wrote more than one critique of Christianity. His works, like the critique of Celsus, have been preserved only in Christian responses, and these excerpts are collected by modern scholars under the title Against the Christians. He visited Palestine and was acquainted with Origen.214 His criticism may be described as supporting philosophical monotheism and cultic polytheism.


He was enamored of the meditation on things divine but felt the Deity should be worshiped according to nationalistic customs. Christians are at fault because, though claiming to worship the god made known by the Jews, they reject the proper means of worship made know by the Jews and find themselves forging a “new kind of track in a pathless desert, that keeps neither the ways of the Greeks nor those of the Jews.”215 He pointed out that Christians pick and choose what they wish to believe, ignoring the covenant requirements of their ancestors, and for this reason, Porphyry prefers Jews to Christians, though neither are worthy of his genuine admiration. In such vein, he lampoons the apostle Paul as one who, by his own admission, is a Jew to the Jews, a Greek to the Greeks, with the law, and without the law. For he who says “I am a Jew and I am a Roman” is neither, though attaching himself to each. . . . If indeed Paul pretends partly to be a Jew, and partly he is a Roman, partly he is without the law, partly a Greek, and when he so wishes, being a stranger and an enemy to each, he damages each of them by slipping in, while by flattery he steals the favor of each.216

While Porphyry admired Moses and Jesus, he despised what their followers had done with their teachings. Christ was among the most pious of men, but Christians worship him in their ignorance of God. You know that the immortal soul advances after leaving the body; but when it is cut-off from wisdom, it wanders forever. The soul in question is of a man preeminent in piety. They worship it because they are alienated from the truth.217

He also undermined the historical credibility of the Bible, insisting the book of Daniel was pseudepigraphical, written during the days of the Maccabees and Antiochus Epiphanes (as modern scholars affirm). And the Gospels, for their inconsistencies, such as the different birth narratives, were clearly corrupt or fabrications.218 Porphyry was of the view that Judaism was superior to Christianity, in part because Jews uphold God better than the Christians, and they had rightly concluded that under the law Jesus was justifiably tortured by the worst kind of death.219 What Diocletian, sword in hand, did to the Christian body, Porphyry, pen in hand, did to the Christian mind: he bludgeoned, and maimed, and killed not a few. In his own day he was the skeptic of the Enlightenment that would later savage Christian theology and force a retreat to the tents of faith beyond the river. A later bishop, Severianus ( fl. ca. 400) of Gabala, admitted that “Porphyry, hated by God, who wrote ‘Against Christians’ . . . caused many to revolt from the divine creed.”220 But the bruised Christian intellectuals of his own day regrouped and in due course launched their attack. Certainly, were it not for the devastation he left at his death and the fear he invoked for generations to come, his own writings would have left little trace. He was a worthy opponent of Christian scholars, and it is great loss to intellectual history that the likes of Tertullian and Porphyry were separated by a century. Nevertheless, he was honored for centuries by the ritual of burning his books, as well as by the host of early church fathers who responded to his challenge:


Lanctantius, Eusebius, Didymus the Blind, Epiphanius, Jerome, Chrysostom, and Augustine. Iron sharpens iron, and the church is in his debt. It was in response to Porphyry that Eusebius prepared his two massive anthologies of philosophical Jewish and early Christian writings, the Preparation for the Gospel and the sequel Demonstration of the Gospel, in order to demonstrate a harmony between Christianity and the noble elements of Greco-Roman culture. Porphyry died just years before Constantine bowed to the despised cross, but he did not have to wait long for some other rhetorician in the empire to respond. Among the first, perhaps while he was still alive, was Arnobius. 18.3.2.2 Arnobius Another educated Hellene, Arnobius ( fl. 284–305), was rhetorician of Sicca in Africa. A dream convinced him to convert to the Christian faith he had once ridiculed. He used his education and skills to demonstrate his sincerity by writing a treatise Adversus Nationes, in which he argued that the Neoplatonism esteemed by Porphyry and taught by Plotinus in fact dwelt in harmony with Christianity. Although Arnobius never mentions Porphyry by name, it is likely he has the contemporary critic in view with his “they say.” But, they say, the gods are not hostile to you because you worship the omnipotent god, but because you claim a natural man was god, and one who suffered the penalty of crucifixion, which even for the lowliest of men is a disgraceful punishment. And you believe he still exists, and daily you worship him in prayers.221

The attack supposes that bad things are happening to Christians because the gods are angry that Christians worship a mortal. The widespread ridicule against Christians is evident in another response: And since you are in the habit of laughing at our faith, and jab at this, our faith, with clever jokes, tell us happy wise men, soaked and saturated with the unmixed draught of wisdom, in life is there any type of undertaking that demands one be quite busy and active in which the doers do not accept, take up, and begin, without an initial act of faith in it?”222

Arnobius seems to have Porphyry in mind when he says: And so when you argue against us about the abandonment and deviation from previous centuries, you should examine the reason and not the fact, and not place before us what we have abandoned, but examine, in particular what we have followed. Is it any fault or crime at all to change an opinion, and to leave ancient institutions behind for other things and turnings that are new? Such an indictment also involves you who have many times changed your manner of living and acting, who in condemnation of the past have changed to other customs and ceremonies.223

Arnobius attests to the fact that in every generation, when an intellectual rose to condemn Christianity, another intellectual rose to defend it. We may suppose that the same was true among the Jews, as in the days of Philo and Josephus, and again in later centuries.


18.3.3 The Great Persecution The expansion of Christianity had indeed become alarming to those charged with oversight of the empire. In the Syrian provinces, Asia Minor, and especially Armenia, Christians were gaining ground and constituted a majority in some cities. The attempt by the emperors to stamp out Christianity was a desperate move, ill conceived even without the advantage of hindsight. The efforts of previous rulers had failed; why should a new attempt succeed? What Diocletian and Galerius probably could not foresee was the eagerness of some for martyrdom. The desire to die for Christ and attain the martyr’s crown, especially in Africa, took the Roman officials by surprise and embarrassed some bishops. A legitimate concern, and probably the initial one, was the presence of Christians in the army, those who would not participate in the sacrificial cult to ensure the favor of the gods on their campaigns. Such men, without an apologist, a Tertullian to argue for their loyalty and prayers to the God of Jews and Christians, would be suspect on all counts. Among the early military martyrs were a prospective conscript, Maximilian, a centurion, Marcellus of Tingus, and a standard bearer, Fabius. In 295, Maximilian refused conscription on the grounds that he was a Christian, which for him meant a conscientious objector. The fact, pointed out to him, that Christians did serve in the military did not sway him, and he was executed for refusing military duty. Somewhat later in Mauritania, the centurion Marcellus threw down his military insignia belt and refused to participate in the religious cult, while elsewhere in Mauritania, Fabius, during a military ceremony, also threw down his insignia standard. Both soldiers were executed for insubordination.224 Eusebius ascribes the Great Persecution to the wrath of God, as just recompense for the blindness and bickering of the church. In the years preceding the persecution, Christians enjoyed great freedom and the goodwill of many Romans. But in that freedom, Christians warred among themselves with “weapons and spears formed of words,” leaders and laity alike joining factions and fighting each other. Christians acted as if they were atheists, so that the prophecy of Jeremiah was fulfilled: “How the Lord in his anger has set the daughter of Zion under a cloud! He has cast down from heaven to earth the splendor of Israel; he has not remembered his footstool in the day of his anger.” According to the prophecy in the psalm (89), God had renounced the covenant with his servant. In the mind of Eusebius, as with the biblical prophets and Jewish sages before him, the evil that befell them came from the hand of God and would end by the hand of God.225 At dawn on February 23, 303, soldiers surrounded the Christian church in the imperial city of Nicomedia. They forced entry, brought out and burned the Scriptures, and left the building to be pillaged by the crowds before they tore it down. The next day Diocletian and Galerius published the first edict against Christians. One zealous soul ripped the parchment from the wall and tore it up. He was seized, tortured, and burned alive, achieving, no doubt, his goal.226 In March, a fire mysteriously erupted in the palace of Diocletian. Christians were assumed to have started it, and some members of the palace staff were punished. A second fire broke out a few weeks later, set by the servants of Galerius, we are told, but blamed by him on


the Christians. This time Diocletian had all his Christian servants tortured, and he executed a number of high officials. He forced his wife, Valeria, and her daughter to sacrifice to the gods. Thence persecution spread to the provinces, North Africa in the west, and in the east, Egypt, Palestine, and Bithynia, where it was unevenly implemented over the next decade. Churches were destroyed and Scriptures burned in the marketplaces. This was followed by selective imprisonment, torture, and some executions of church leaders. As long as Diocletian controlled the oppression, the goal was to control the Christians by removing the church buildings as gathering points and defaming the leaders. Propaganda tracts were published.227 Hierocles, the governor of Bithynia, whom Lactantius called “the author and advisor of the persecution,” wrote a tract to the educated class entitled “The Lover of Truth to the Christians,” in which he argued on the one hand, Jesus was magician similar, if inferior, to Apollonius of Tyana, while on the other, Jesus had been a minor rebel in Palestine who was captured with his band of 900 men by the Jews themselves and done away with. In either case, Jesus was not worthy of worship, and the Christian faith was incompatible with loyalty to Rome. Some leaders did lapse, or fled, even in their shame. Some Christians recanted, donned their best clothes to sacrifice to the gods of Rome, and persuaded others to join them. But many endured, as the persecution spread to the lower ranks. In Phrygia a whole town was burned because nearly the entire population was Christian.228 Two men who lived through the Great Persecution, Lactantius and Eusebius, later wrote of it. Lactantius, a pupil of Arnobius who lived in Bithynia before he fled to Gaul, devoted a treatise to it, On the Deaths of the Persecutors. He wrote: “Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, A voice of brass, and adamantine lungs, Not half the dreadful scene could I disclose,” or recount the punishments inflicted by the rulers in every province on religious and innocent men.229

The most serious persecutions occurred between 306 and 310, pushed by Galerius. At times death was the dominant penalty, at other times, torture and mutilation. In Caesarea, Pamphilus, the leading Christian scholar of Palestine, was imprisoned for 15 months and finally executed in 310. Eusebius, his student, labors through the details of the holy martyrs in book 8 of his Ecclesiastical History. After listing the deaths of eminent men by their provinces, he writes: Why need I now mention the rest by name, or number the multitude of the men, or picture the varied tortures inflicted upon the wonderful martyrs? Sometimes they were slain with the axe, as was the case with those in Arabia; at other times they had their legs broken, as happened to those in Cappadocia; on some occasions they were suspended on high by the feet, head-downwards, while a slow fire was kindled beneath, so that when the wood was alight they were choked by the rising smoke—a treatment meted out to those in Mesopotamia; on others, the noses, ears and hands were mutilated, and the remaining limbs and parts of the body cut up, as was done at Alexandria. Why need one rekindle the memory of those at Antioch, who were roasted on heated gridirons,

410 Vines Intertwined not unto death, but with a view to lengthy torture; and of others who put their right hand into the very fire sooner than touch the accursed sacrifice? Some of them, to escape such trials, before they were caught and fell into the hands of those that plotted against them, threw themselves down from the tops of lofty houses, regarding death as a prize snatched from the wickedness of evil men.230

Women endured as well as men, we are told, and fought against the additional danger of rape. Noble women protected their virginity by exile or suicide. One mother, who had escaped Antioch with her virgin daughters, was found out, and they were escorted back by soldiers. On the way, the mother, Domnina, took stock of their fate, and after explaining to her daughters, Bernice and Prosdoce, what they must expect at the hands of men, they all drowned themselves in a river rather than submit to the disgrace that awaited them. Another noblewoman in Rome, Sophronia, stabbed herself to death rather than become the whore of Maxentius.231 Elsewhere, in the east, we hear of villagers near Edessa, Shamuna, Gurya, and a deacon named Habib who were martyred. Christians of Italy and Spain suffered lightly, though one deacon, Vincent of Saragossa, was remembered and glorified with martyrdom and sainthood.232 Christians in Gaul and Britain, under Constantius, escaped with barely a scratch. It was in North Africa, from Numidia to Egypt, where the persecution was implemented most zealously and where Christians either complied by hook or by crook or died gloriously. In Carthage, 49 Christians who gathered for the Eucharist were slaughtered. The persecution was never popular among the masses. Hellene neighbors sometimes carried Christians bodily to the imperial altars and forced them through the brief ceremony in order to comply with the law and get them to safety. Where possible, a Hellene might act with power of attorney and perform the sacrifice on the Christian’s behalf. Some Hellene neighbors risked their lives to hide Christians, and they were later reckoned as righteous Gentiles for whom a place in heaven would be found.233 Eusebius tells of how crowds of Jews stood by in amazement when 97 Egyptian Christians were brought to trial in the city of Lydda. And the Jews were spectators of this marvelous contest, having surrounded the place of judgment on all sides; . . . they looked on with their own eyes at what took place, while the whole company of the confessors, with much confidence and immense courage, made their confession of belief in God’s Christ. . . . And they were still more cut to the heart and rent, when they heard the criers of the governor shouting and calling Egyptians by Hebrew names . . . and the Jews greatly wondered both at them and at their names, as well as at their words and their deeds. . . .234

Although Eusebius includes the standard condemnation of Jewish unbelief in his description of them, he also notes their awe and “cut to the heart” anguish for the Gentile Christians who, rather than deny their God, suffered the maiming of one leg and blinding of the right eye before they were sent to work in the copper mines near Petra. This sympathetic response was probably expressed by most Jews, who themselves knew something about martyrdom.235 In 311, Galerius was struck with a malignant ulcer in his private parts that spread by degrees and proved fatal. To Christians it was plainly the act of God


by which the persecution was ended. And Galerius may have believed it, for after consulting numerous physicians and the priests of Apollo and Asclepius, he sought to alleviate his distress by an act of toleration, and perhaps appease the god of the Christians. On April 30, 311, he issued his edict, which became known as the Palinode of Galerius. After describing the honorable intentions of the state in ordering compliance to the state religion, and its evident failure in that Christians supplicated no gods, he gave them liberty to assemble in their churches. He then had the temerity to state: Wherefore, in accordance with this our indulgence it will be their duty to pray their god for our good estate, and that of the state, and their own, that the commonwealth may endure on every side unharmed, and they may be able to live securely in their habitations.236

Galerius died in May. During the next 2 years, his successor, Maximinus, initiated sporadic persecutions. But the empire had no stomach for more bloodshed, as they awaited to see how the Augusti, the Caesars, and the challengers played the highs stakes of last man standing. The total number of deaths empire-wide over the 10 years has been estimated between 3,000 and 3,500.237 Others suggest the victims should be numbered in hundreds rather than thousands. In the end, the numbers are not important to the impact of the persecution on the life of the church. Christians had responded to the command to sacrifice their lives. The church had gone through its tribulation and was rewarded with the crown of victory. During the persecution, many Christians lay low or found ways to appease the government, while others rotted in prison or died in the mines, with one eye gouged out and one foot maimed. The confessors, those who suffered for the faith, arose in their glory, while the traditores cowered in their shame. The disparate responses were seeds of contention to be harvested in the following decades.

Synthesis of Part Four

Jews and Christians II (138–312 c.e.)

S4.1 Material Culture During this era, Jews and Christians were significant monotheistic minorities in the Greco-Roman world. By the middle of the second century, wherever there was a Jewish community in the Roman Empire, there was probably a Christian community. Jewish population declined from approximately 5 million to 3 million. Christians increased from some 50,000 in 140 to 4 million by 300. Around the mid-third century, Origen reckoned there were as many Christians as Jews. In the third century, Christians in geographically distinct societies began to show traits of their culture, and we may speak of Syrian Christians, Egyptian Christians, Roman Christians, North African, Gallic, Gothic, and so forth. The dominant language was Greek, but Christians in the East used the emerging Aramaic dialect of Syriac. Most people in urban settings were bilingual to some degree. In Rome they spoke Latin, but an educated person read and wrote Greek fluently. Our knowledge of Jews and Judaism is partially filled by the rabbinic traditions of the Mishnah, edited and published in 220. But this can be considered only a very small portion of Jewish life, akin to the literary production of the Dead Sea Scrolls community or a medieval monastery. The vast majority of Jews lived apart from rabbinic society and largely oblivious to it. From the material remains in Upper Egypt where the dry climate has preserved numerous papyri, we find Jews engaged as farmers, shippers, and soldiers. A Jew was employed as a night guard for a local Serapeum temple. Another Jew was apparently a comedian mime whose routine act of carrying a burden summoned gales of laughter from the audience. Jewish artisans continued to excel in the weaving industry, and probably as silversmiths, incense mixers, perfumers, and gem cutters.238 The life of Jews in Egypt cannot be extrapolated to the entire Diaspora, but it gives us a window to the various Jewish communities throughout the empire.

S4.1.1 Christian and Jewish Symbols A distinctly Christian material culture emerged toward the end of the second century. Christians had expressed their faith in symbols taken from their Jewish roots and Hellenistic societies, symbols and metaphors already in service of the

Jews and Christians II 413

many religions. The vine had long been associated with the Dionysian cult but as we have seen, the vine also symbolized life in Judaism, hence the background to John 15:1–5, “I am the true vine.” For early Christians, however, the vine appears to have served merely as decoration. The grape or bunches of grapes symbolized wine, and for Christians, the agape meal. But the grape was quickly associated with Christ, the suffering grape. Christian symbols and art were first formed in the context of burial of their dead and the Greco-Roman tradition of a funeral meal with the deceased. The combination of wine, bread, and fish symbolized the agape meal, the funeral meal, and each was individually associated with stories from the ministry of Jesus. Other symbols taken from Hellenistic culture and given a Christian meaning were the dove, the palm branch or tree, olive branch, and boat. Clement of Alexandria (ca. 200) lists his preferred symbols. And let our seals be either a dove, or the fish, or a ship sailing before a fair wind, or the lyre for music, which seal Polycrates used, or a ship’s anchor, which Seleucus carved on his device; and if there be a fisherman, he will recall an apostle, and the children drawn from the water.239

In Hellenistic culture the boat was associated with the departure of the souls of the deceased, but this does not appear to have been its use among Christians, who thought of the dead as present in the tomb, awaiting the resurrection. It more likely summoned the sense of security associated with Noah and the flood. The key early symbols were the anchor, boat, and fish. They all represented stability in a sea of social conflict. The anchor was a Christian innovation and may have symbolized security in the faith. The famous Greek acrostic ΙΧΘΥΣ standing for “Jesus Christ Son of God, Savior,” probably emerged before Constantine, but evidence is slight. Tertullian gives the earliest reference: But we little fish, according to our ΙΧΘΥΣ (ichthus) Jesus Christ, are born in the water, nor are we saved in any other manner than by remaining in the water.240

Because the fish symbol had both the nautical sense and the meal sense, it appears that ΙΧΘΥΣ symbolized both baptism and the Eucharist. Two human figures entered the early Christian symbols. The Orante, a female figure with arms raised over her head and face veiled, symbolized filial piety in Hellenistic culture and appears to have meant the peace found in communal loyalty for Christians. It is found in tombs and churches, such as Dura Europos. The other human figure was the Good Shepherd, also well established in Hellenistic culture, often as Hermes with a ram on his shoulder. In early Christian use it represents the loving-kindness, humanitarianism, of the church community. Only later did the Good Shepherd symbolize Jesus. The earliest portraits of Jesus are as a young wonder worker or the heroic redeemer, often as a boy nude or scantily clad, or as a young philosopher like Socrates, instructing his disciples. In the early pictures of his baptism, Jesus is a small youth, overshadowed by a large and bearded John the Baptist. The picture of Jesus prior to Constantine represented deliverance from the tribulations of this life, through miracles or teaching his disciples the Jesus tradition. Even after Constantine, the


youthful Jesus remained the dominant figure for three generations, and only under Damasus, bishop of Rome (366–384), did the portrait of Christ change to a majestic Lord. The first portrait of Jesus with a beard may come just before or just after Constantine.241 The symbol most conspicuous for its absence is the cross. The cross was a near universal religious sign in antiquity, and this makes the origin of its use among Christians difficult to trace. In fact, there is no unambiguous evidence for the Christian symbol of the cross prior to Constantine’s chi-rho. The suffering Christ on the cross does not appear until the fifth century. The famous Palatine cross, a graffito of a crucified man with a donkey’s head and the inscription “Alexamenos worships (his) god,” cannot be dated prior to Constantine. In any case, the mockery of a presumed outsider does not suggest the use of the cross as a Christian symbol. None of the early Christian symbols reflect the vicarious atonement of Jesus Christ, his suffering or death. All stress victory, peace, and security in the face of adversity. The Jesus iconography follows the same pattern. There is no place in the third century for a crucified Christ, or a symbol of divine death. Only when Christ was all powerful, as in the iconography of the Emperor, could that strength be used for redemption and salvation as well as deliverance.242

The most distinctive Jewish symbol was the menorah, the seven-branch candelabrum. Among the earliest representations of the menorah, however, is not as a Jewish religious symbol but on the Arch of Titus as one of the temple treasures of the spoils of war. The first appearance of the menorah in a clearly religious context is in the synagogue of Dura Europos. The other significant symbols are the ethrog (citron) and lulav (palm branch, myrtle sprigs, and willow branches), the two festive symbols for Sukkot. The shofar also became a common symbol, though the evidence begins only in the fourth century.

S4.1.2 Dura-Europos: Jews and Christians The city known as Dura-Europos, also called by its excavators the Pompeii of the Syrian desert, was probably founded by Nicanor, a commander of Seleucus I, during the establishment of the Selecuid kingdom in the era of the Diadoche wars (323–301) as a fortification (Dura = “fortress”) along the Euphrates frontier. Lands were given to retiring soldiers, and the fortress drew in other dwellers, establishing itself as a commercial center and refuge for traders. During the rise of Parthia, a wall was built around the original citadel that enclosed the dwellings into a city. The city came into Roman hegemony between the campaign of Trajan in 115 and the arrival of Verus in 164. In 212, the residents of Dura-Europos became citizens of the Roman Empire, though most retained their Parthian heritage, which extended back nearly three centuries. At this time, at least from 195, there was a sufficiently strong Jewish community to have built a synagogue. There were also temples to Mithra, who served as deity


to the Roman military, among others. Sometime around 232, a small Christian community renovated an existing house into a church. The Parthians had tolerated all religions attached to the many languages in their polyglot empire, and the Romans merely added Latin to the mix. Tolerance and mutual aid were the means of surviving in a desert fortress town. Shapur I had bypassed Dura-Europos during his early campaigns into Syria, but after the death of Decius along the Danube, he felt the time was ripe to take the frontier city. With the Sasanian threat before them and no hope of aid from Rome, the city of Dura-Europos capitulated in 253, and Sasanian troops replaced a Roman garrison. When the bulk of Shapur’s army had withdrawn, however, the citizens revolted. Shapur returned in 256 with a large army. This time the citizens prepared to withstand a siege. They filled in the street along the city wall with sand from the desert, and when this threatened to collapse the walls of the buildings along the Wall Street, they tore off the roofs of the buildings and filled them in with dirt to enhance the embankment. These buildings included the Jewish synagogue and the Christian church. The effort was futile. The Sasanians dug under the walls, and the city fell quickly, without great fighting. The inhabitants of Dura were resettled, held for ransom, or sold into slavery. The city was not razed but left desolate, and it returned to the desert from which it had sprung. There it lay until 1921, when a French soldier discovered a partially exposed wall painting, and archeologists began the arduous task of uncovering a lost city. In 1932, the great discovery was made that the Jewish synagogue, newly renovated in 245, had been hidden in the embankment and preserved in the desert heat in almost as pristine condition as the day it was buried. Soon after, the Christian church was also discovered and restored. The excavation of Dura-Europos was a major discovery in many ways. It forced a radical reinterpretation of Judaism in the third century and established a new marker for the spread of Christianity. The original synagogue of Dura-Europos had been a modest building, no doubt reflecting a modest community of Jews, capable of holding about 65 worshipers. But during the decades of conflict upon the rise of the Sasanians, the Jewish population increased, so that by 245 they were able to rebuild a larger structure over the old foundations. This synagogue could hold 124 persons, and the extensive and costly art work required time and wealthy donors. This community has been described as holding “well-informed devotion to the established traditions of Judaism, close contact with both the Palestinian and the Babylonian centers of Jewish religious thought, and a very real understanding of the peculiar problems and needs of a community living in a strongly competitive religious environment and in an exposed political position.”243 Beyond that careful assessment, however, scholars have been at pains to interpret the religion of the art in the synagogue. But one conclusion has been inescapable; namely, that the Jews of Dura-Europos did not subject themselves to the guidelines of the Talmudic rabbis when it came to art. And this verdict has been sustained by numerous other synagogue excavations. Human bones were buried under the sill and socket of the main doorway of the synagogue, a Greco-Roman practice that was hardly expected in a Jewish setting because of ritual corpse defilement.244


The architecture of the synagogue followed that of Greco-Roman shrines. The assembly room of the synagogue imitated the inner sanctuary of a temple in which one entered through columns. A niche in the principal wall contained some sacred object, in this case, presumably a Torah scroll. The focal point of Jewish worship lay upon the sacred scroll. Elsewhere, the Jews borrowed religious symbols from the Greco-Roman or Persian world and mixed them with biblical scenes. Dura was about 250 miles along the Euphrates north of Nehardea, the center of rabbinic Judaism, where Rav and Samuel held sway. It appears, therefore, that rabbinic influence had not yet reached Dura-Europos, or if it had, it was ignored. In due course, rabbinic tradition admits to a relaxation of the biblical injunction against graven images in Palestine. In the days of R. Johanan [third century], they began to depict figural images on the wall and he did not object; in the days of R. Abun [fourth century], they began depicting figural images on mosaic floors and he did not object.245

The art of the synagogue also served to draw visitors, and it appears from the records found in the synagogue that Persian nobility came to admire the art. At some point during the 90 years of Roman occupation of Dura-Europos, a Christian community established itself, and between 232 and 256 they converted a private house into a church. Two rooms were joined into a hall that could hold some 70 people for worship, and at one end they built a baptistry adorned by painted walls inspired by stories from the Bible. The south wall of the Christian church, between two doors, bore a painted scene of the Garden of Eden above a niche in the wall, and of David and Goliath below. The niche in the wall may have contained a bowl of holy oil, or like the synagogue, a Scripture scroll, perhaps the Diatessaron of the Four Gospels, or more of the emerging New Testament canon. Below the painting stood a table for the Eucharistic bread and wine. The Christians came from the Hellenistic west because the graffiti inscriptions, and a fragment of Tatian’s Diatessaron, are in Greek. The congregation will likely have included Roman soldiers from the military presence, traders in the area, and new converts from the city, some of them perhaps from the Jewish community. The relationship between the Jewish synagogue and the Christian church just two blocks away is unknown. We may suppose some friendly competition for Hellene visitors, contributors, or even converts, in which the Jews had the numerical and financial advantage. But when the people of Dura determined to resist Shapur, the Jews and the Christians fought side by side.

S4.2 Jewish-Christian Relations The Diaspora revolt under Trajan (115–117) and the Bar Kokhba revolt under Hadrian (132–136) was followed by a host of anti-Jewish polemic from Christians that served notice that Gentile Christians no longer wished to be confused with Jews. In response to the fiscus Iudaicus, a new unique and humiliating head tax on Jews qua Jews, some Jews abandoned their identity to avoid the opprobrium of Jewish defeat,


and a similar response is supposed in the post Bar Kokhba generation. The end of Hadrian’s reign probably marked the darkest hour of Jewish history in antiquity. In light of this, the dialogue between Justin Martyr and Trypho the Jew offers a window of civility. The dialogue is friendly (by comparison) but suspect of complete fabrication, and it is often thought that Trypho is little more than Justin’s strawman Jew. Perhaps, but the scenario Justin paints in Ephesus shortly after the war is thoroughly believable, and indeed, virtually required as an example of historical reality. We know Jews and Christians debate or dialogue. Jewish believers, like Paul, did it from the start, and all the extant polemic in Christian and Jewish literature is but a faint reflection of the vast exchange between Jews and Christians in the public squares of antiquity. This is especially true while both Jews and Christians were a minority in the Greco-Roman world, a condition relevant to the Roman Empire until well into the fourth century and in the Persian Empire until the coming of Islam. At this stage Christians did not have a distinct identity from Jews. Their relationship was closer to the Pharisee and Sadducee debates than fifth-century debates between Jews and Christians. Thanks to Celsus, we also have a Hellene’s reconstruction of the Jewish response to the Jewish believer’s mission to Jews. It is, in a mild way, a Hellenic defense of Judaism. Later, we find recollections and traces of continued dialogue from Origen and Abbahu, both residents of Caesarea, though in different generations, and possibly a formal debate between Origen and Johanan b. Nappaha.

S4.2.1 Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho Justin’s Dialogue with Trypo offers a cordial discussion with an educated and refined Jew.246 Scholars are divided over the authenticity of Trypho and his opinions. Some hold he was real, and Justin recorded the essence of his statements; others think he was Justin’s creation, a straw man. Recent analysis demonstrates an independent coherence to the arguments of Trypho, and if authentic, Trypho is a rare voice from the second-century Jewish Diaspora. Nor should we assume Justin never had a discussion with Jews about his faith. He was a native of Samaria and knew Palestine, including the cave of Bethlehem.247 The tone of the dialogue, however tendentious it may at times be, begins and ends pleasantly: While I was going about one morning in the walks of the Xystus, a certain man, with others in his company, having met me, said, “Hail, the philosopher!” And immediately after saying this, he turned around and walked along with me; his friends likewise followed him, said, “What is there important?” And he replied, “I was instructed,” says he, “by Corinthus the Socratic in Argos, that I ought not to despise or treat with indifference those who array themselves in this dress, but to show them all kindness, and to associate with them, as perhaps some advantage would spring from the intercourse either to some such man or to myself. It is good, moreover, for both, if either the one or the other benefitted. On this account, therefore, whenever I see anyone in such costume, I gladly approach him, and now for the same reason, have I willingly accosted you; and these accompany me, in the expectation of hearing for themselves something profitable from you.”

418 Vines Intertwined “But who are you, most excellent man?” So I replied to him in jest. Then he told me frankly both his name and his family. “Trypho, I am called; and I am a Hebrew of the circumcision, and having escaped from the war lately carried on there [in Palestine], I am spending my days in Greece, and chiefly in Corinth.” “And in what,” said I, “would you be profited by philosophy so much as by your own lawgiver and the prophets?” “Why not?” he replied. “Do not the philosophers turn every discourse on God? and do not questions continually arise to them about His unity and providence? Is not this truly the duty of philosophy, to investigate the Deity?” “Assuredly,” said I, “so we too have believed. . . .” And he, smiling gently, said, “Tell us your opinion of these matters, and what idea you entertain respecting God, and what your philosophy is.”248

The context for the dialogue is a philosophical quest for truth among monotheists. Having already agreed against the Greeks that God is one, Justin and Trypho accept the providence of God, and there is much more on which Jews and Christians agree, including the authority of the Hebrew Scriptures. The Dialogue contains four major topics: Justin’s quest for truth and his conversion; the Mosaic law and its temporary value; Jesus, the prophesied Messiah, has replaced the Torah; and Gentiles who accept Jesus are the new Israel.249 Because biblical monotheism and the messianic prophecies were key to Justin’s conversion, he clings to his Jewish roots, which are fundamental to the validity of the Christian faith, and rejects the emerging Gnostic philosophy that reduces the God of the Hebrew Scriptures to an evil demigod. There will be no other God, O Trypho, nor was there from eternity any other existing, but He who made and disposed all this universe. Nor do we think that there is one God for us, another for you, but that He alone is God who led your fathers out from Egypt with a strong hand and a high arm.

The irony of Christian belief, not lost on the Jews, was the reliance on the Hebrew traditions for the proof from prophecy that validated Jesus the Messiah, while at the same time abandoning the laws of the covenant. As Trypho says: But this is what we are most at a loss about: that you, professing to be pious, and supposing yourselves better than others, are not in any particular separated from them, and do not alter your mode of living from the nations, in that you observe no festivals or sabbaths, and do not have the rite of circumcision; and further, resting your hopes on a man that was crucified, you yet expect to obtain some good thing from God, while you do not obey His commandments.

Justin, using Paul’s argument, defends Christian rejection of the ritual laws, such as circumcision and kashrut (keeping the dietary laws), by the fact that individuals were called righteous long before Abraham was circumcised or Moses gave the Torah: Adam, Abel, Enoch, Noah, and Melchizedek. When Trypho confronts


Justin with the fact that some Christians observe the law, Justin admits that such Christians, whether Jewish or Gentile, are nevertheless saved so long as they have professed belief in Christ. Upon Trypho’s prompting, Justin also admits there are other Christians who do not share such a liberal attitude. The two groups who remain outside salvation, Justin contends, are Gentile Christians who abandon their faith to follow Jewish laws and Jews who never declare faith in Christ. The main involvement of Trypho in the dialogue comes in response to the claim that Jesus is the Messiah. Trypho offers his objections to the Christian faith: The Christian messiah, Jesus, was crucified, and therefore cursed; Since Elijah has not come, neither has the messiah; Jesus cannot be another God, since God is one; Anyway, how can God, or a preexistent Christ, become human; Isa 7:14 does not refer to a virgin (only in the Greek Septuagint), and in any case, King Hezekiah is the subject of the prophecy, not Jesus; Jesus is too similar to the Greek myths to be the Jewish messiah; Even granting the Christian arguments for Jesus, it is obvious that the messianic age of justice, in which the messiah is an everlasting priest and king, has yet to come.250 Justin uses an early argument for the involvement of the preexistent Jesus in human affairs based on the divine speech in the first person plural, such as “Let us make man in our image,” and the theophanies of God. A key example is the appearance of God to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre.251 Abraham saw three men, which were, according to Justin, Jesus and two angels. After they delivered the promise of Isaac, the Lord tells Abraham he is going to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. Only two angels go to Sodom, and after Lot and his family flee, “Then the Lord rained on Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven.” The first Lord is Jesus, the second is God the Father, and so it is that every theophany in Scripture is a Christophany. Philo had already given the standard Jewish interpretation that assumes all three were angels. Rabbinic tradition tells of a heretic who challenged the rabbis with the same problem on the fire of the Lord from heaven. If the Lord was himself raining down fire, it should read “from him out of heaven.” The response is said to have come from a public sermon of Meir, a contemporary of Justin: “It is written, And Lamech said to his wives, Ada and Zillah, ‘Hear my voice, ye wives of Lamech,’ but he should have said, ‘my wives.’ Such is the Scriptural idiom—so here too, it is the Scriptural idiom.”252 The most important thesis of Justin, and one that cuts to the heart of all Jewish Christian dialogue, is the election of Israel into the covenant with God. Paul made the case that those who accept faith in Christ inherit the promise of Abraham and are adopted as the seed of Abraham.253 This had become a standard argument of Jewish believers, to which Jews had replied. Rabbinic tradition preserves an early homily that appears to confront Christian preaching, and perhaps the parables of Jesus directly. It begins with Deut 32:9: “For the Lord’s portion is his people, Jacob his allotted heritage.” This is to be compared to a king who had a field and he gave it to tenants. The tenants began stealing it. The king took it from them and gave it to their sons. They turned

420 Vines Intertwined out to be worse than their predecessors. He took it from their sons and gave it to their grandchildren. They, in turn, were worse than their antecedents. A son was born to the king. He said to the tenants, “Go forth from the midst of that which belongs to me. It is not my wish that you be in its midst. Give me my portion that I may make it known as my own.” Thus when Abraham our father came into the world, worthless offsprings issued from him, Ishmael and the sons of Keturah; when Isaac our father came into the world, worthless progeny issued from him, Esau and the princes of Edom. They turned out to be worse than their predecessors. When Jacob arrived, no unworthy offspring issued from him, but all his children were born worthy like himself, as it is stated in Scripture, “And Jacob was a perfect man, dwelling in the houses of study” (Gen 25:27 as translated by the rabbis). From what point on does God claim his portion? From Jacob, as it is stated in Scripture, “For the portion of the Lord is his people, Jacob the lot of his inheritance” (Deut 32:9). And Scripture also states, “For the Lord has chosen Jacob for himself, Israel for his treasure” (Psa 135:4).254

This homily confronts the Christian claim to be the heirs of Abraham by shifting the promise of election from Abraham to Jacob. Throughout the Dialogue, Justin builds a response to the new Jewish position. God refers to a new Israel as a third people besides those in Egypt and among the Assyrians; in a parable, God calls Christ both Jacob and Israel.255 “As, therefore, Christ is the Israel and the Jacob, even so we, who have been quarried out from the bowels of Christ, are the true Israelite race” (135). Here Paul’s theology of election in Abraham is revived by extending it through Christ to Jacob who is called Israel. The claim to be “true Israel” marks an advance in Christian theology. Justin assumes Exod 19:5–6, quoted in 1 Pet 2:9, and states, “we are the true high priestly race of God” (116). Within a century after Paul preached his gospel to the Gentiles and hinted that the “church of God” bore an identity other than Jew or Greek, Christianity was known as “the third race.” For we have found in the Scriptures, how the Lord says: “Behold, I make with you a new covenant, not as I made (one) with your fathers in Mount Horeb.” A new one has he made with us. For what has reference to the Greeks and Jews is old. But we are Christians, who as a third race worship him in a new way.256

At one point in the dialogue Trypho says, “Sir, it were good for us if we obeyed our teachers, who laid down a law that we should have no intercourse with any of you, and that we should not have even any communication with you on these questions. For you utter many blasphemies. . . .” Who are Trypho’s teachers? Justin often refers to the “teachers” that lead Trypho and others astray over Scripture interpretation, so they are evidently exegetes of some reputation. He once mentions Jewish teachers who “exalt themselves and wish to be called Rabbi, Rabbi,” but this certainly draws upon the statement in Matthew (23:7), whether or not Justin means to apply it to contemporary Jews.257 While some of the “teachers” may have been rabbis affiliated with Mishnaic tradition, there were many educated elders who served as teachers in every Jewish community of the Diaspora, successors of Philo and hundreds unnamed, who would offer the same advice: avoid Christians like the plague. Justin’s dialogue, therefore, is not considered evidence for the prominence of Mishnaic rabbis.


There is no reason to suppose Justin has not summarized the principal objections that Jews put forward to Christianity. That Justin uses the objections for his own defense of Christianity is expected, but it is almost certain that Justin has gotten many of his arguments from Jewish believers who were in the habit of dialoging, or proselytizing, fellow Jews, and it is equally likely Justin himself spent many an hour in such efforts. Justin answers all the objections of Trypho with greater or lesser success, but he does not presume to have convinced Trypho. In a good fictional account, Trypho and his companions would have knelt in conviction and asked to be baptized. But Trypho and Justin part as unpersuaded friends, each offering prayers for the other. This rather remarkable ending may have been a subtle way for Justin to tell his readers that not all Jews would accept the truth because of the hardness of their hearts, but more likely it served as an invitation for future dialogue. Trypho may have been a real person in Justin’s life or a fictional character to shield those Jews in Rome with whom he had often dialogued and for whom he wrote. Justin is not writing from a position of power. He wrote his Apologies to a hostile Greco-Roman audience, but to the Jews he writes his Dialogue. Persuasion, not confrontation, is the method of engagement. In the polemical dual Justin and Trypho each hold a common biblical view, wield the weapon of Scripture, and seek advantage with each hermeneutical thrust and parry. Justin imitates the dialogues of Plato as his means of persuasion. Justin, after all, had been converted through such dialogue.258 It is equally sure, however, that Justin writes for other Christians who often find themselves on the defensive against the attacks of Jews more learned than themselves, undoubtedly a common plight for Christians throughout the Diaspora. Justin knows of Jewish envoys who have come from Palestine to alert Jews in the Diaspora to the dangers of Christianity.

S4.2.2 Celsus and His Literary Jew Celsus, the Hellene intellectual, found Judaism odd enough, but because of its ancient roots it was worthy of veneration and therefore, superior to Christianity. Because of the close association of Christians to Judaism, the criticism of Jewish monotheism applies equally to Christians. In his book Alethes Logos, “True Discourse” (ca. 178), Celsus calls the idea of the messiah absurd, and the dispute over it between Jews and Christians “is no different from that called in the proverb a fight about the shadow of an ass.”259 The Jewish version of Moses and his exploits, by contrast to what is widely known, is biased in their favor and further corrupted by allegorical interpretations. The entire creation account, narrated in set days even before days were given (by the sun), in which God is portrayed as a mediocre craftsman who tires of his labor after six days and needs a rest, is silly. Moses should be ranked with the ancient poets of the Old Comedy. “The comic poet wrote that Zeus woke up and sent Hermes to the Athenians and Spartans because he wanted to raise a laughter in the theater. Yet do you not think it is more ludicrous to make the Son of God to be sent to the Jews?” (6.28–80). The entire history of the Jews is one of a rebellious people, which only foreshadowed the latest rebellion of the Christians.


What distinguishes Celsus from other antagonists to Christians of the second century is his literary creation of a Jewish inquisitor. His Jew ridicules the story of Jesus, using many of the slanders known from rabbinic literature, but others known to him as well. Then his Jew speaks directly to “those Jewish believers who have turned aside from the faith of their fathers, deluded and ludicrously misled by this Jesus, and become strangers to their heritage” (3.1). Why have you, O citizens of Israel, left the law of our fathers and become slave to the power of this man whom we were just before addressing? You have been deceived. You have deserted Israel for another name. When we punished this Jesus who deceived you, you abandoned the law—or would you rather say that you take your start from the law of the fathers? But why take your start in the religion of the Jews? How can you despise the origins in which you yourselves claim to be rooted? Or can you name some other origin for your doctrine than our law? Is it not true that our own prophets speak of God among men? John, whom you revere as a prophet, was himself a Jew. And as for the doctrine central to your belief—the belief that the dead are raised and that God will dispense judgment to the righteous and to the unrighteous, your religion teaches nothing new. Let us look at your Messiah. Jesus, according to your writings, kept all the Jewish festivals and customs. He even took part in our sacrifices. Is this the hallmark of the Son of God? This god of yours is arrogant. He told great lies. He was a blasphemer and a profaner of the Sabbath. Worst of all, he managed to convince you to follow him in his profanity and lying, or those of you who appeared ready to be deceived. He is a liar, because while respecting on occasion the outward forms of our observances, yet he did not hesitate to abandon them for the sake of convenience: circumcision, the feasts of new moons, the distinction between what is clean and what is unclean. All of this was done for the deceitful purpose of winning over the Jews, only thereafter to lead them astray. The one who will punish the unrighteous will come from God, and on that day, how you will despise this Jesus! Look at your god: How can you regard him as a god when as a matter of fact he was not eager to make public anything he professed to do? After he had been tried and condemned and it had been decided that he should be punished, where did we find him? Hiding—trying to escape. If he was a god, is it likely that he would have run away? Would he have permitted himself to be arrested? Most of all: Would a god—a savior, as you say, and son of the Most High God—be betrayed by the very men who had been taught by him and shared everything with him? What an absurdity you have chosen to make a doctrine: no general worth his salt could have broached betrayal by the thousands he led. . . .260

Celsus thought the entire story of Jesus was absurd and no self-respecting Jew should have believed it. In the remaining books he addresses Jewish and Christian doctrines. As with the figure of Trypho, the question of Jewish authenticity arises. Does the literary Jew of Celsus represent real Jews? Scholars have differed widely on this, but in recent years a good deal of material has been marshaled to support the Christian and Hellene “literary Jew” as a realistic Jew. Even though Origen points out that the Jew of Celsus is unlike the Jews he knows, it hardly argues that Celsus knew no Jews who expressed the views he gave. Awareness of the diversity


of Judaism in recent years has tempered our views of what does, or does not, qualify as Jewish observances or opinions. Some Jews continued to reject the idea of a resurrection, a stance Celsus calls the hope of worms. Likewise, the accusation that some Jews worship angels is not without substance, since contemporary rabbinic tradition knows of Jews who offer sacrifices for the sake of the sun, the moon, the stars or the planets, or “for the sake of Michael, prince of the great host” and equates it to “flesh derived from the sacrificing of corpses.”261 Celsus most likely speaks from firsthand knowledge of contemporary Diaspora Jews.

S4.2.3 Origen and the Rabbis at Caesarea Origen dialogued with Jews, some of whom he called sages, probably rabbis, and on at least one occasion judges of the dispute were present.262 Considering the limited number of highly educated men in Caesarea and their natural associations, Origen was probably acquainted with Rabbi Simlai and Resh Lakish, but the most prominent candidates to have engaged Origen in disputes known from the rabbinic traditions are Hoshaiah Rabbah ( fl. 200–250) and his student Johanan b. Nappaha ( fl. 230–279). Caesarea was the center of Christianity in Palestine at this time, and while Hoshaiah lived there in his later years, Johanan often came to visit. The city contained an odeon (Greek ōdeion; Latin odeum), which Plutarch describes as a type of theater used as a law court or for philosophical disputations. According to one source, Vespasian built an odeon in Caesarea on the site of a destroyed synagogue after the destruction of Jerusalem.263 Copies of Jewish and Christian writings, among others, were probably kept for reference during the disputations, and given the entertainment value as well as common interest, it is highly likely that public debates between Jewish and Christian scholars occurred regularly. The primary legacy Origen brought to the dialogue with the Jews was his notion of progressive revelation: in Natural Law, the Law of Moses, and the Gospel. Each supplemented, and to some extent, replaced the previous revelation. He also favored the allegorical interpretation learned from Philo. Origen had small sympathy with the simple minds that read Scripture literally. To do so, he complained, made God a powerful old man in the sky, whose actions at times, if taken as simple prose, were both contradictory and unworthy of the vilest tyrant. Any Scripture that cannot be used to edify must be read allegorically, and the solution to the many glaring inconsistencies was through allegory. Origen, like Philo, believed that with the rope of allegory, the Scriptures were an inexhaustible well of wisdom and truth. Origen, like Clement, mined Philo’s works and quoted them in his own writings. Origen spoke of Philo as “one of my predecessors” and “one of our predecessors.”264 The influence of Philo on Origen was stronger than it had been even on Clement because Origen, like Philo, was at heart a philosopher who believed Plato spoke truth and truth must end with God. The difference between them was that Origen believed the statement of Jesus, “I am the truth.”265 We who belong to the Church accept Moses, and with valid reason. We study his works because we believe that he was a prophet and that God revealed Himself to him. We

424 Vines Intertwined believe that he came to describe the mysteries to come, but using symbols, figures and allegories, whereas before we ourselves began to teach men about the mysteries, they had already taken place, at the time appointed for them. It does not matter whether you are a Jew or one of us; you cannot maintain that Moses was a prophet at all unless you see him in this light. [Origen elaborates on the analogy of the artist who makes a model in clay before carving and casting the real statue in bronze, and when the statue is made, the model is of no use.] So it is with the Law and the Prophets. The things written in the Law and the Prophets were meant as types of figures of things to come. But now the Artist Himself has come, the Author of everything, and He has cast the Law aside, because it only contained the shadow of the good things to come, whereas He brought the things themselves.266

Hoshaiah Rabbah shows familiarity with Philo in his exposition on the creation of the world from Prov 8:30: “then I was beside him, like a master workman; and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always.” He likened this to Wisdom, that is, Torah, serving as God’s architect at creation, a view already expounded by Philo and possibly shared with Hoshaiah by Origen.267 On one occasion a “philosopher” challenged the importance of circumcision by asking why God had not created Adam already circumcised. Hoshaiah pointed out that many things that God created required “perfecting” thereafter; for example, mustard needs sweetening, and grain needs grinding, before they are suitable for food.268 Hoshaiah also delivered a homily on the creation of Adam, which appears to be directed at the Christian doctrine of incarnation. When God created Adam, said Hoshaiah, the angels thought Adam was divine and began to worship him. This is like a king who rides in his chariot with the governor, and the people wish to shout “Sovereign!” but they do not know who the king is. What does the king do? He pushes out the governor so they knew who was king. Likewise did God cause a deep sleep to fall on Adam, so the angels knew he was not divine; as it is written: “Turn away from man in whose nostrils is breath, for of what account is he?”269 In the rabbinic traditions, Rabbi Johanan b. Nappaha dealt with Jewish believers and a variety of heretics. He addressed the persistent challenge that when Torah mentions God in the plural, it proves either two gods or Jesus is with God. Johanan said: In all the passages [where God is spoken of in the plural] which the minim have taken as grounds for their heresy, their refutation is found near at hand. Thus: “Let us make man in our image”—“And God created [singular] man in His own image.”270

The heretics in this case could be either dualistic Gnostics or Jewish believers who used such passages to demonstrate the deity of Jesus and his participation in creation. A tradition recalls that Rabbi Simlai parried questions that appear to be specifically about the Trinity. The heretics pointed to Joshua 22:22, “The Mighty One, God, the Lord! The Mighty One, God, the Lord! He knows.” This appeared to be three powers in heaven. Simlai responded: He said to them, “It does not say, ‘They know.’ But it says, ‘He knows’ [supporting the unity, and not the trinity, of God].” Simlai’s disciples, however, felt he had deflected the challenge with a straw, that is, weakly. To them he explained, “These are three titles for one individual, just the same as


King Caesar Augustus are three titles for the Roman Emperor.” To a similar verse, Ps 50:1, “The Mighty One, God, the Lord, speaks and summons the earth,” Simlai noted the singular verbs “speaks” and “summons” show the unity of God, but later to his disciples, he said, “These are three titles for one individual, just as artisan, builder, architect are three titles for one master craftsman.”271 The reason Simlai did not wish to give his three titles explanation to the heretics was probably because it was close to the modalism explanation of the Trinity accepted by many Christians, in which God appears in three modes. It has also been noted that Origen’s efforts to retain a firm monotheism in his speculations on the nature of the Trinity may have been due to Jewish influence. Origen, Rabbi Johanan, and Resh Laqish may have common heretics in mind when discussing the passage “I have hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (Exod 10:1). Johanan asked whether this passage gave heretics an excuse because Pharaoh could no longer repent. Resh Lakish replied, “Let the mouths of the heretics be shut. Surely he scorns the scorners (Prov 3:34); since God warned Pharaoh five times and he took no notice, God then said: ‘You have stiffened your neck and hardened your heart; well, I will add to your uncleanness; hence I have hardened Pharaoh’s heart.’ ”272 Origen refers to heretics who virtually destroy free will by introducing ruined natures incapable of salvation, and saved natures incapable of being lost, and Pharaoh was of the ruined nature after his heart was hardened by God.273 The similar responses suggest a common heretical foe, perhaps Gnostics or Marcionites. Although it does not require that Origen conversed with the rabbis about the problem, it may have been an unexpected pleasure to have occasionally found themselves on the same side.274 A major point of conflict between Rabbi Johanan and Origen appears to have been over the interpretation of the Song of Songs. The Song of Songs had been among the difficult books to include under the rubric of “sacred Scripture” for the sages of the second century. The fact that it was sung in taverns did not prevent a spiritual interpretation of it by those so inclined, such as Akiba had been. It was obvious to the sages that Solomon had meant it to be an allegory of God and Israel. Origen thought it was rather an allegory of Christ and his bride the church and so explained it in his commentary on Song of Songs, completed in the mid 240s. In the first six verses of Song of Songs, five issues of disagreement between Johanan and Origen have been found.275 (1) A covenant mediated by Moses that suggests estrangement versus one negotiated by him as between friends. Text: Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! (1:2a). Origen said the Law was ordained by angels in the hand of a mediator (Gal 3:19), which served to prepare for the coming of the Bridegroom. The Bride, the Church, is no longer with the friends of the Bridegroom, the Law and the Prophets, or the angels, but “she longs to hear her Spouse who is now with her, speak with his own lips, wherefore she says: Let him kiss me . . .” Johanan had to face the plain statement of Moses: I stood between the Lord and you at that time (Deut 5:5); therefore, he reduced the role of Moses as mediator of Torah, to that of marriage broker: “It was as if a king wanted to marry a woman of good and noble

426 Vines Intertwined family. He sent an agent [Moses] to speak with her . . . She replied: I am unworthy of being his handmaid. Nevertheless, I desire to hear from his own lips. Let him kiss me . . .” (2) The New Testament versus the oral Torah as superseding Scripture. Text: for thy breasts [love] are better than wine (1:2b). Both Origen and Johanan interpret the wine as the Law and the Prophets, but they disagree on which is better. Origen reads from the Septuagint [mastoi = breasts], Johanan from the Hebrew [dod = beloved, loved ones]. Origen: The Bridegroom’s breasts conceal wisdom and knowledge. By wine is meant the teachings of the Law and the Prophets. The Bride reflects now on the teachings of Christ, and she sees “that it is far superior to that with which she had been gladdened as with spiritual wine served to her by the holy fathers and prophets, before the Bridegroom came.” Johanan: “The words of the Scribes [= oral Torah] are more precious than the words of Torah. As it says: Thy loved ones are better than wine [Hebrew].” He may also have had in mind the common equivalence of breast with Torah, hence oral Torah. (3) Christ versus Abraham. Text: thy name is as ointment poured forth (1:3). Origen: This may be seen as the Bride’s prophecy of Christ, for when Christ returns “his name will be spread abroad upon the face of all the earth . . . so that he will give forth a sweet fragrance everywhere, as the apostle said: For we are the aroma of Christ everywhere (2 Cor 2:15–16).” Johanan applied the verse to Abraham: When God said to Abraham, Go from your country and your kindred (Gen 12:1), Abraham may be compared with a flask of fragrant oil standing in a corner, and its scent was not wafted until someone moved it and its fragrance wafted abroad. Even so, the Holy One said to Abraham, “Become a wanderer on the earth and thy name will become great in my world.” (4) The heavenly Jerusalem versus the earthly Jerusalem. Text: O Daughters of Jerusalem (1:5). Origen: As Paul says, the present Jerusalem is in bondage with her children, but the Jerusalem above, the mother of us all, is free (Gal 4:25f). “Paul thus calls the heavenly Jerusalem both his own mother [city] and that of all believers . . . therefore . . . everyone who follows after liberty, is a son of the freewoman . . . she it is who is the mother of us all.” Johanan: “Jerusalem will one day become the metropolis of all countries and draw people to her in streams to do her honor.” Johanan uses the Greek metropolis [mother city], and perhaps he draws on Philo, who describes the “holy city” of Jerusalem as the “mother city not of one country Judaea but of most of the others in virtue of the colonies sent out at diverse times” to all the world.276 (5) Israel being repudiated versus Israel being disciplined. Text: I am black and beautiful (1:5). Origen: “Address yourself to the daughters of Jerusalem you members of the Church and say: The Bridegroom loves me more and holds me dearer than you.” He also explains “black” due to their birth as Gentiles, but “beautiful” in their coming to Christ.

Jews and Christians II 427 Johanan [transmitted by Rabbi Isaac, with reference to 1:6]: Take no notice of my swarthiness, it is the sun that has burned me. It happened once that a provincial lady had a black maidservant who went down with a companion to draw water from the spring, and she said to the companion: Tomorrow my master is going to divorce his wife and marry me. Why? asked the other. She replied: Because he saw her hands stained. Retorted the other: Foolish woman, listen to what you are saying. Here is his wife whom he loves exceedingly, and you say he is going to divorce her because once he saw her hands stained. How then will he tolerate you who are stained all over and black from the day of your birth. [The lesson follows:] So because the Nations of the World taunt Israel saying: This nation degraded itself; as it says: They exchanged their glory for an ox . . . (Ps 106:20). Israel replies to them: If we who sinned only once are to be punished thus, how much more so are you? Elsewhere, a midrash tradition explains “black” from the deed of the golden calf, but “beautiful” by the act of building the tabernacle sanctuary.

A comparison between the rabbinic and patristic interpretation of the most intimate of Scriptures touches on key points of dispute that are covered in greater depth elsewhere in the literature over several centuries. Christians stressed a new intimacy between God and his people; Jews stressed the fidelity of God with his first love, despite a history of unfaithfulness and the destruction of the temple. Jews were naturally on the defensive against the energetic and growing Church, but they had the advantage of antiquity, which included the patriarchal covenants and the original Scriptures, as the Apostle Paul also noted.

S4.2.4 Abbahu of Caesarea The successor to Hoshaiah and Johanan was Abbahu of Caesarea ( fl. 280–320). Because Abbahu was a contemporary of Pamphilus of Caesarea and his pupil Eusebius, it is likely the men knew each other among the small number of educated elite, though we have no direct indication of their relationship. Only shreds of the encounters between Jews and Jewish believers remain in the Talmudic traditions, but some reveal the humorous side of the exchanges. One “heretic” named Sason (Joy) told Abbahu that in the world to come, Jews would draw water for him, since it says in Isa 12:3, “With joy (sason) you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” Abbahu noted that the Hebrew says not “for joy” (le-sason), but “with joy” (be-sason); therefore the verse means that in the world to come, the Jews will make water bottles from his hide.277 Abbahu often addressed Christian theology. In a most specific response, Abbahu said, “If a man says to you ‘I am God,’ he is a liar; if he says, ‘I am the son of man,’ in the end people will laugh at him; if he says ‘I will go up to heaven,’ he so speaks, but shall not perform it.”278 Abbahu’s response is based on Num 13:19, “God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should repent. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it?” He also applied a standard proof-text for the unity of God against Christian theology and may well have been aware of the nascent Arian dispute. Referring to the declaration “I am the Lord your God,” Abbahu gave the parable of a king of flesh and blood: he reigns, and he has a father or a brother. The holy One, blessed be he, says, I am not so: “I am


the first,” I have no father; “and I am the last,” I have no son, “and beside me there is no God,” I have no brother. In one case, the heretics argued that the ascension of Enoch prefigured the ascension of Jesus and thus authenticated it. Abbahu argued from other Scripture that the statement “then he was not, because God took him” could mean his death, therefore no proof can be derived.279 The discussions were also about scriptural difficulties, with no apparent polemical interest. On one occasion, a heretic pointed out the chronological inconsistency of the Psalms: Psalm 3 was written when David fled from his son Absalom, while Psalm 47 was written when he fled from Saul long before the incident with Absalom. Abbahu said this was a difficulty only for those who do not grasp the context of Scripture, which organizes things theologically, not historically.280 Another was the problem posed by Samuel’s return from the dead at the summons of the medium of Endor, when Jewish theology said the souls of the righteous are stored up under the throne of glory. Abbahu maintained that for 12 months, while the body decays, the soul rises and descends from heaven, but after 12 months, when the body has perished, the soul remains in heaven. The incident at Endor occurred during the first 12 months, when a soul can be recalled. One of the most illuminating traditions on relations between Jews and Christians preserved in the Talmud notes that some minim, almost certainly Jewish believers, sought Abbahu’s recommendation for a teacher of Jewish theology. Abbahu put before them Rabbi Saphra, a Babylonian who was visiting Palestine, and they paid him an honorarium worth 13 years of taxes. On one occasion the Jewish believers asked for Saphra’s interpretation on the verse: “You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities” (Amos 3:2). Saphra could not give a satisfactory explanation, and they railed against him and accused Abbahu of sending them an incompetent teacher. Abbahu replied that he had recommended Saphra as a noted Talmudist, not as a Scripture exegete. They asked Abbahu why he, a Palestinian, was different from a Babylonian rabbi, and he explained: “We who live among you [Jewish believers] apply ourselves to Scripture interpretation, but in Babylon they do not.” Then he explained Amos 3:2 by a parable. “It is like a man who lends money to two men, one his friend and the other his enemy. He recovers payment from his friend little by little, but from his enemy all at once.”281 Although this story is found only in the late Babylonian traditions, it supports the fact, known elsewhere, that Jewish believers in Palestine continued to hold the learning of Jewish sages in high regard and that rabbis were willing to teach them. Despite the fact that Jewish and Christian sources preserve mostly hostile statements against each other, the relations between the two communities were normal and friendly day to day. Abbahu appears to have maintained cordial relations with Christians. He used a Jewish believer physician named Jacob, of whom associates of Abbahu did not approve. On one occasion when Jacob applied an ointment to a leg wound of Abbahu, some of the rabbi’s colleagues sucked out the medicine, thinking Jacob had tried to poison Abbahu, but more likely they simply did not want a heretic treating an eminent rabbi.282 Another time Abbahu was asked about the status of Christian books associated with Be Abidan. The name is not precisely identified, though it


may be translated as “House of Destruction,” but probably it refers to the Greek odeon. The question for Abbahu was whether the books found there, including Scripture and Christian works containing the name of God, were to be considered sacred. He replied, “Yes and no.”283 His ambivalence, or recognition of good arguments either way, reflected a divided opinion among other rabbis over the sanctity of Christian writings, and on which he preferred not to take a side.

S4.2.5 “Two Nations in Your Womb” As early as the first century, Rome seems to have been equated with the biblical Edom and Esau. How this came about is not clear. Edom and Esau are equated in Genesis (25:30; 36:8), and biblical Edom was later called Idumaea, the land around the Dead Sea south of Judaea. One possible link is that Idumaea was the native land of Herod the Great, who was made a Roman puppet king. Herod’s golden eagle above the temple gate may have inspired the Edom-Esau-Rome figure. Whatever its origin, by the end of the first century the author of 4 Ezra equated Rome with Esau in the divine explanation of the age to come: “From Abraham to Isaac, because from him were born Jacob and Esau, for Jacob’s hand held Esau’s heel from the beginning. For Esau is the end of this age [Roman Empire], and Jacob is the beginning of the [Messianic] age that follows.”284 Akiba may also have made the association because, it is argued, when he declared Bar Kokhba the messiah with the proof text “A star shall come forth” (Num 24:17), he implied the destruction of Rome by the following verse, “Edom shall be dispossessed.” Elsewhere, Akiba preached on the verse “the voice is the voice of Jacob: the voice of Jacob cries out at what the hands, which are the hands of Esau, did to him.”285 For the rabbis, the brotherhood of Esau and Jacob also meant Rome and Israel were brothers, and rabbinic exegesis expounded a good deal on the story of the brothers, beginning with the prophetic passage: The children struggled together within her; and she [Rebekah] said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. And the Lord said to her, “Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger.”286

In harsh times, the exegesis of “two nations are in your womb” identified the “two rulers of nations in thy womb, Hadrian of the Gentiles and Solomon of Israel.”287 Rav, who studied in Palestine during the glory days of Judah I, applied the “two nations” to the Roman emperor and the Jewish patriarch: “Read not Goyim [nations] but Ge’im [lords]. This refers to Antoninus and Rabbi.”288 The dominant theme of the Esau-Jacob exegesis was that of resignation to the reality of power. On Jacob’s disguise to secure the blessing of Esau, his father Isaac said, “The voice is Jacob’s voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” The rabbis said, “The hands are the hands of Esau; this is the wicked kingdom which has destroyed our House and burnt our Temple and driven us out of our land.”289 Within Jewish tradition, Paul had already applied the “two nations” prophecy to an analogy for the mystery of divine election, in which the followers of Christ


represent Jacob and the Jews are Esau. God had chosen the believers in Christ as a new people, just as he had chosen Jacob, the secondborn, over Esau, the firstborn. The greater (Esau = Jews) shall serve the lesser (Jacob = Christians). To buttress the divine prerogative, Paul appends a text from Malachi, as it is written: “Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.”290 Pseudo-Barnabas and Justin took Paul’s analogy and added other examples to the comparison, but Irenaeus developed it as a typology and thereby made it a Christian thesis against Jews.291 According to Irenaeus, Jacob, which means “supplanter,” shows how Christians have supplanted the Jews. Jacob received the rights of the firstborn when Esau looked on them with contempt, so Christians accepted Christ the first-begotten while the Jews rejected him. As Jacob was later persecuted by Esau, so Christians are persecuted by Jews. The rhetorician Tertullian spent most of his energy defending Christians against the hostile Greco-Roman society, but he found time and cause to defend Christian claims against what must have been a fairly well-known Jewish denunciation of Christianity. In his Answer to the Jews, Tertullian ostensibly speaks to a Greco-Roman audience interested in Judaism, for he takes “a recent dispute between a Christian and Jewish proselyte” as the stimulus for his essay.292 Tertullian’s goal, as he lays it out, is to demonstrate to local polytheists, who are hardly in a position to evaluate the arguments between Jews and Christians, that anyone interested in worshiping the true God should look to Christianity, not Judaism, as the true heir of the Hebrew tradition, the true people of God. Abraham was not a Jew but a Gentile. His daughter-in-law, Rebekah, likewise was Gentile, and it was of her womb that God did say, “Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger” (Gen 25:23). Tertullian then drew upon a tradition begun by Paul. Whether or not Tertullian was familiar with Irenaeus or the other earlier exegetes, he was clearly aware of the Christian appropriation of the JacobEsau typology. Tertullian argues that the stronger of the offspring, and the elder son, must be the Jews, who are more ancient, while the younger must be the Christians, who have come of late, and accordingly, the prophecy that “the elder shall serve the younger” means the Jews shall serve the Christians, who are God’s people. This biblical passage goes to the heart of the Esau-Jacob conflict, which became a prominent polemic against Christian Rome. Because Tertullian is securely dated prior to the Talmuds, it remains an engaging question whether he learned something of the exegesis of Gen 25:23 from local Jews or simply drew on Christian tradition. In brief, Christianity has superseded Judaism. The Law was temporary until Christ should come, and now the marks of Jewishness, sabbath and circumcision, are no longer in force. Concerning sacrifices, he uses the typology of Cain, “the elder,” who is Israel, and Abel, the “younger son,” who is the Christians; just as God rejected Cain’s sacrifice from the fruit of the earth, so he accepted the gifts of Abel from the fruit of his flock. Cain’s countenance fell, and he slew his brother. The Jews rejected their Messiah and have rightly suffered for it. In the second part of his treatise he takes up the question of whether or not Christ was the prophesied Messiah and produces a host of passages, probably from a booklet of scriptural


proofs, in support of the Christian claim. Further proof is adduced in the mission to the Gentiles foretold in Scripture and accomplished in Christ. The destruction of Jerusalem and the loss of the land to the Jews prove that no other Messiah can come, for Bethlehem is no longer home of the Jews or the seed of David. As to the present sufferings of the Christians, this, too, demonstrates that the Christian faith is successor to biblical faith, for it is Christians who now sustain the world by their suffering as the prophets suffered for their message. The final proof, the clue to the error of the Jews, is that they have failed to see the two advents of the Messiah prophesied in their own Scriptures: the one in humility, the second in glory. In the context of his other writings, the Apology and Prescription Against Heretics, and in particular the long tract Against Marcion, this work is light reading. What he says against the Jews qualifies as Contra Judaeos material, but scholars have long noted that Tertullian seems to know little about the Jews of his own day, certainly less than did Justin. Tertullian’s Answer to the Jews is entirely a biblical answer. As he sees it, prophecies and allusions to Christ are everywhere. His answers are stock in trade. He is talking past the Jews, and perhaps, as he says, to those Gentiles who are seeking God in the synagogues instead of the church. He has made a clean break from his polytheistic past, and like Paul, wears his convictions prominently: just as Christians have broken from the Jewish tradition because of the truth, so all other Gentiles should follow them. The archaeological remains do not provide much to sustain the picture of two vital communities, Jews and Christians, in competition for the lost Gentiles. A third-century catacomb reveals the presence of a Jewish community, with Christians apparently buried among the Jews, but otherwise there is no discernable Christian presence.293 This is not surprising because Christianity is still too young to have developed a material culture distinct from its Jewish foundations. Christians still met in homes, and because of the persecution, such as the Scillian martyrs (180), they had good reason to blend into their society. Whatever the relationship between Jews and Christians may have been, if they occasionally shared grave plots, they were likely also neighbors. Some Jews and Christians may have been hostile to each other, while most enjoyed the benefits of community in their daily contacts at every level of society. And it would be most natural at this stage to find some competition between Jews and Christians in the mission of God to any interested polytheists.294 The extent to which rabbis, prior to the Christian empire, directly confronted the Christian claim to be true Israel has been an energetic debate in scholarship. Are sages really engaging Christians, or are they theologizing and preaching to the choir from their insulated schools? If there is contact between sages and Christians, the question arises: who is responding to whom? Chronologically, the Christian arguments can be dated earlier and with greater confidence than the rabbinic evidence. Did Paul, with his Jacob-Esau analogy of divine election, begin the entire debate to which the Jews defended themselves, or did the Jewish and Christian discussions over the identification of Jacob and Esau develop independently? Are the rabbis of the Babylonian Talmud debating with Christians in Persia? These questions remain open, but a few scholars claim that a mutual engagement between Jews


and Christians in antiquity best explains the rabbinic traditions; that the evidence suggests the rabbinic sermons and exegesis are in direct response to the threat posed by Christians. The sermon on Deut 32:9 mentioned above deserves a second appearance. The key text is “For the portion of the Lord is his people.” A parable. A king had a field, which he leased to tenants. When the tenants began to steal from it, he took it away from them and leased it to their children. When the children began to act worse than their fathers, he took it away from them and gave it to the original tenant’s grandchildren. When these too became worse than their predecessors, a son was born to him, He then said to the grandchildren: “Leave my property. You may not remain therein. Give me back my portion, so that I may repossess it.” Thus also, when our father Abraham came into the world, unworthy [descendants] issued from him, Ishmael and all of Keturah’s children. When Isaac came into the world, unworthy [descendants] issued from him, Esau and all the princes of Edom, and they became worse that their predecessors, When Jacob came into the world, he did not produce unworthy [descendants], rather all his children were worthy.295

This sermon rejects the offspring of Abraham and Isaac from the election of Israel to be God’s people, and it therefore contests the Pauline argument that followers of Christ are the spiritual heirs of Abraham. And the parable, it has been noted, bears a striking resemblance to a parable of Jesus from the widely known Gospel of Matthew. In the Matthean parable, the owner of a vineyard (God) lets it out to tenants (leaders of Israel), but when he sends his servants (prophets) to collect the fruit, the tenants kill them; and when he sends his son (John the Baptist/ Jesus), they kill him, too. Therefore, the owner punishes the tenants and gives the vineyard to others (the church) who will give him the fruit.296 The similarities between the sermon and the Gospel of Matthew can perhaps be accounted for by the common Jewish genre of parable, and the broad claims of descent from Abraham, particularly by Arabs, could account for the sermon’s point. Nevertheless, it is argued, the rabbinic parable makes best sense when contrasted to Pauline election theology and the prevailing Christian theology to be the spiritual descendants of Abraham, true Israel.297 Just as the Jews were the chief adversary of the Christians, so the Christians were the chief adversary of the Jews.

S4.3 Jewish Believers Still lurking in the shadows of history are the believers in Jesus, such as the Matthean community, whom we call Jewish believers because of their Jewish ethnicity and their desire to remain within the Jewish covenant tradition.298 They are to be found throughout Palestine, Syria, and probably across Asia Minor. Justin recognizes three types of Jewish believers: those who enter the mixed Jewish and Gentile church (as at Rome) and accept the freedom to observe or not the Mosaic laws, and others who observe the law but do not expect Gentiles to do so. The third group not only observes the law but also expects all followers of Jesus to do the same. Justin is also of the opinion that those who accept Jesus as Messiah but


also wish to observe all the commandments are nevertheless saved, so long as they do not insist on observance of the law for everyone. But even those Gentiles who are persuaded to keep the law alongside their faith in Christ, Justin reckons will be saved by their faith, despite their reliance on the law. Justin also notes that other Christians disagree with him.299 Every position concerning the apostolic debate over faith in Christ and observance of the law seems to have been staked out among different communities by the second century. Two names most often associated with these Jewish believers were Nazarene and Ebionite. Of these, the Nazarenes are the earliest, and the Ebionites the most widely attested in Christian sources. But even the ancient writers appear to be poorly informed, and they, like modern historians, tend to dump all manner of reports into named categories on the basis that they “seem to fit” one category better than another. “Ebionites all look the same.”

S4.3.1 Nazarenes The name Nazarene, first applied to Jesus and to the Jesus movement in Judaea of which Paul is accused of being a ringleader, disappears from history until Tertullian says, “The Jews also designate us, on that very account, Nazarenes (Nazarenos) after Him.”300 Tertullian notes that Hebrew and Aramaic speakers, including all rabbinic tradition, call Christians of varying stripes notsrim (“Nazarenes” or “Nazoreans”). At some point during this era, the “Blessing of the Heretics” (birkat ha-minim) also included notsrim along with other heretics (minim). Eusebius confirms the old designation based on the village of Nazareth: “From which Christ is called a Nazarene, and we, who are now called Christians, formerly Nazarenes.”301 In the late fourth century, Epiphanius and Jerome will speak of the Nazarenes as a Jewish believers sect quite distinct from the broader designation of Christians. Given the scanty sources prior to the late fourth century, it is impossible to know if there was a group of Jewish believers called Nazarenes that was distinct from Jewish and Gentile Christians, all of whom were called notsrim by the Jews of Palestine and the East. The sources admit to two extremes concerning the Nazarenes of the fourth century known to Epiphanius and Jerome: they were the original self-designation of the followers of Jesus who maintained an identity over three centuries despite the upheavals of Palestine and the normal changes over the generations; they arose after Constantine as a new Christian sect that chose an ancient name. If a group of Jewish believers in Jesus did carry on an unbroken community from James and the church of Jerusalem, they made little impact on the rest of the Christian world. (Will the real Nazarenes please stand up?) On the assumption that Nazarenes did retain an original identity and unbroken lineage in Greater Palestine, then some literary trace of them may remain. Jerome’s excerpts from the Nazarene writings available to him (ca. 400) may well go back to the late second or early third century. In these traditions, we find a criticism of the famous sages, Shammai and Hillel, Akiba and Meir, among others, as having opposed the truth of Jesus. Instead, they remained in the darkness of their traditions and secondary laws (deuterōseis), which probably refers to the


Mishnah. As enticing as these fragments are, they provide only a garbled reference with chronological errors to the existence of the rabbis, without ever using the term “rabbi.” They do, however, provide evidence for the opposition of Jewish believers to the emergence of the rabbinic movement.302 A second body of literature, known as the Apostolic Constitutions, contains earlier collections, including the Didache, the Didascalia Apostolorum, and what are called Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers, all of which may well reflect teachings and liturgies that go back to Nazarenes, or Christians of Jewish heritage, of the third century. The Didascalia Apostolorum presents itself as the result of the council of Jerusalem (Acts 15). It advocates using only the Torah, the Prophets, and the Gospels as scriptural authority and contains rules for living, as well as a rejection of the deuterōsis (Mishnah) of the Jews. What else did he signify [by not offering sacrifices himself] but the abrogation of the second legislation? Also [loosening] from the bonds, [where] he said: Come unto me, all you that toil and are laden with heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” [Matt 11:28]. Now we know, however, that our Saviour did not say [this] to the Gentiles, but he said it to us his disciples from among the Jews, and brought us out from burdens and the heavy load.303

The author is almost certainly a Jew and demonstrates some familiarity with rabbinic Judaism, such that it has recently been called a “Mishnah for the disciples of Jesus.”304 However, the community is in fellowship with the “great church,” and the members do not keep the sabbath stringently. The Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers are an example of the adoption of Jewish liturgy by Jewish believers for their own worship. As such they represent a large corpus of Jewish pseudepigrapha that have been edited for Christian use. In the following opening prayer, the Christian additions are in italics. (Then after the communion, you shall give thanks in this way) We give thanks to you, O God and Father of Jesus our Saviour, on behalf of your holy name which you caused to encamp among us, and on behalf of the knowledge and faith and love and immortality which you gave us through Jesus your Son.305

If scholarship is correct in assigning these prayers to the Hellenistic synagogue and their adaptation by Christians, it offers further proof for the mutual involvement of Jews and Christians intertwining the vines, mediated by Jewish believers, even though the nature of the relationship remains largely hidden. The prayers reflect the theology of Philo and other Hellenistic Jewish writings, such as the Wisdom of Solomon, which was wholly adopted by Christianity. They are a portion of the great melting pot of monotheistic worship.

S4.3.2 Ebionites The loyalty of the Ebionites to Jesus was equaled by their antipathy to Paul. Ebionites first appear in history by the hand of Irenaeus (ca.180), who mentions them as a heresy, though not a Gnostic heresy, nor even a very serious one.306 The Ebionites


are also known to Tertullian (d. 225), Pseudo-Tertullian, Hippolytus (d. ca. 236), Origen (d. 254), Eusebius (d. 340), and Ephiphanius (d. 403), so they appear to have continued in Palestine for several centuries. Over such an extended time we should expect changes within the group, even schisms resulting in new groups of Ebionites, so that the different descriptions may be accurate for their own times but should not be applied en bloc to a static group from the second to the fifth century. The name Ebionites almost certainly comes from the Hebrew for “poor ones” or “needy ones.” Some patristic writers (e.g., Tertullian), however, did not know this and assumed an eponymous founder named Ebion or Hebion. Irenaeus says the following: Those who are called Ebionites, then, agree that the world was made by God. . . . They use the Gospel according to Matthew only and repudiate the apostle Paul, saying that he was an apostate from the Law. As to the prophetical writings, they do their best to expound them diligently; they practice circumcision, persevere in the customs which are according to the Law and practice a Jewish way of life, even adoring Jerusalem as if it were the house of God.307

Their version of Matthew was in Hebrew and may have been the elusive Hebrew Gospel attributed to Matthew by Papias or a translation of the canonical gospel. Later sources claim the Ebiontes have their own gospel, which they may have revised from an early version of Matthew. They accepted Jesus as the longpromised Messiah, but they rejected any notion of preexistence or virgin birth. The Ebionites seem to have reckoned with the problem of Davidic descent posed by the virgin birth narratives. The Messiah required a Davidic lineage, but according to the story of the virgin birth, Jesus was not descended from David, only adopted as such by Joseph. They rejected any attempt, as made by Ignatius or Justin, to imply one genealogy was that of Mary, and thereby give Jesus matrilineal descent from David.308 According to their understanding, Jesus received the Spirit of God at his baptism and was worthy to be made the Messiah because he perfectly obeyed the Law. Anyone who joins the Ebionites is expected to imitate Jesus and perfectly obey the law. Hippolytus goes so far as to assert that the Ebionites believed they could become anointed ones like Jesus if they also keep the law as he did.309 Origen appears to have known of the Ebionites firsthand in his own day. He confirms the description of Irenaeus, and he was aware that their name meant “poor ones.” After Celsus introduced his imaginary Jew who spoke to the Jewish believers, he said that “deluded by Jesus, they have left the law of their fathers, and have been quite ludicrously deceived [by Jesus], and have deserted to another name and another life.” On the contrary, says Origen, “Jewish believers in Jesus have not left the law of their fathers. For they live according to it, and are named from the poverty of their [literal] interpretation of law. . . . Those Jews who have accepted Jesus as the Messiah are called Ebionites.”310 Elsewhere he says they have impoverished themselves by not accepting the divine birth and nature of Jesus, hence “the poverty of their faith in Jesus.”311 But as a self-designation, “poor ones” may derive from the Beatitudes, “Blessed are the poor [in spirit],” or from a variety of verses in the Hebrew Scriptures. It may also come from the Qumran community, who identified themselves as the “congregation of the poor.”312


Origen also notes that Ebionites continue in his own day to accuse Paul of shameful things.313 He does not repeat the slanders, but the details are probably similar to those mentioned by Epiphanius: [Ebionites] then claim that he [Paul] was Greek and the son of a Greek mother and father, but that he had gone up to Jerusalem, stayed a while, and desired to marry a daughter of the high priest. He therefore became a proselyte and was circumcised. But since he still could not get that sort of girl he became angry, and wrote against circumcision, and the sabbath and Legislation.314

S4.3.3 Jewish Believer (Ebionite?) Traditions Besides what others say about the Jewish believers, we may have some of their own literature. An intriguing collection of writings known as the PseudoClementine Homilies and Recognitions, probably compiled in the mid-fourth century, preserve earlier traditions usually dated to the later half of the second century (ca. 150–200). Both the Homilies and the Recognitions recount the life of Clement of Rome, though in different ways, much as Matthew and Luke recount the life of Jesus differently. Within the collection, scholars think they have isolated several source documents mentioned by Epiphanius in his description of the Ebionites contained in the survey of heresies called Panarion (ca. 377). One is called the Itinerary of Peter (Periodoi Petrou), a description of the travels of Peter; another is the Ascents of James (Anabathmoi Jacobou), which describes the martyrdom of James on the steps of the temple.315 The collection is introduced by letters, one from Peter to James, and another, the reply of James called the Contestatio. The significance of the Pseudo-Clementine literature is still being explored, but it appears to offer a fairly well-developed Jewish Christian alternative to the Pauline gospel to the Gentiles.316 The writings, however, do not mention the names Nazarene or Ebionite. In the Epistle of Peter to James, Peter warns James to not reveal “the books of my preachings to anyone of the Gentiles, nor to anyone of our own tribe before testing.” Peter is afraid that after his death, people will distort his teaching, since many Gentiles have followed the “lawless and absurd teaching of the man who is my enemy.” The unnamed enemy of Peter is assumed to be Paul. Elsewhere, the enemy is called Simon Magus but described as Paul, and it is apparent that the Samaritan sorcerer opposed by Peter in Acts 8 has become the literary face of the true opponent of the Jewish believers, Paul. James acknowledges receipt of Peter’s letter in his Contestatio and vows to guard the works of Peter. In the Homilies (17), Peter argues with Paul (alias Simon Magus) over understanding truth from visions of Jesus rather than having walked with him. Peter says: If then, our Jesus appeared to you in a vision . . . and spoke to you, it was as one who is enraged with an adversary; and this is the reason why it was through visions and dreams, or through revelations that were from without that he spoke to you. . . . How are we to believe you when you tell us that he appeared to you? And how did he appear to you when you entertain opinions contrary to his teaching? . . . Don’t quarrel with

Jews and Christians II 437 me who accompanied him. You now stand in direct opposition to me, who am a firm rock, the foundation of the church.317

This section of the Homilies, also known as the Kerygmata Petrou (“Preachings of Peter”), responds generations later than Paul and his letter to the Galatians. While Peter and Clement travel around, Peter preached in various cities. In one of his talks, he lays out a theology of two covenants, one through Moses, the other through Jesus. Therefore is Jesus concealed from the Hebrews who have received Moses as their teacher, and Moses hidden from those who believe Jesus. For since through both one and the same teaching becomes known, God accepts those who believe in one of them. But belief in a teacher has as its aim the doing of what God has ordered. . . . Thus the Hebrews are not condemned because they did not know Jesus . . . provided only they act according to the instructions of Moses and do not injure him whom they did not know. And again the offspring of the Gentiles are not judged, who . . . have not known Moses, provided only they act according to the words of Jesus and thus do not injure him whom they did not know. Also it profits nothing if many describe their teachers as their lords, but do not do what it befits servants to do. Therefore our Lord Jesus said to one who again and again called him Lord, but at the same time did not abide by any of his commands: Why sayest thou Lord to me and doest not what I say? For it is not speaking that can profit any one, but doing. In all circumstances good works are needed; but if a man has been considered worthy to know both teachers as heralds of a single doctrine, then that man is counted rich in God. . . .”318

This passage exemplifies the Jewish emphasis on deeds over creeds, which constitutes the typical Jewish complaint against Christians. Proclaiming a belief is irrelevant if one does not live according to the commandments of the Lord, Jesus. The Ascents of James, excerpted from Recognitions 1.27–71, contains three sections: the history of Israel from creation to the advent of Jesus (27–42); a discussion between Clement and Peter on Christology (43–54); and the disputation between the priests and the apostles on the gospel and the near martyrdom of James, which gives its name to the entire narrative. The history of Israel emphasizes the fact that Israel learned to sacrifice to idols while in Egypt, and Moses allowed them to sacrifice to the one true God, but it was God’s desire that they not sacrifice, for God desired mercy, not sacrifice. The historical review serves to explain how God provided baptism as a replacement for animal sacrifice once the temple was destroyed. The advent of Jesus fulfilled the promise of God to send a prophet like Moses. Jesus warned the Jews of the impending destruction of the temple and initiated baptism as the new means of atonement. Not all Jews, however, believed him, and Jesus was brought to the cross. In his suffering, the whole world suffered, and even the heavens grew dark. Jesus was then raised up, and those who guarded the tomb said they could not detain him because he was a magician, while others claimed the body was stolen. All this can be developed from the Gospel of Matthew. The text provides a remarkable explanation for the importance of baptism. The new means of atonement allows Gentiles to enter the covenant in order to complete the number of offspring promised to Abraham, in which the nations replace the unbelieving Jews.


The story continues. Over the next seven years, so many accepted the new faith that it was feared the believers in Jesus would soon outnumber the unbelievers. The priests asked the apostles to come to the temple and make their case that Jesus was indeed the prophet like Moses, and the eternal Messiah, which, we are told, is the only “difference between us who believe in Jesus and the unbelieving Jews” (43.2). Present at the disputation was an array of the opponents of the early church: the high priest Caiaphas, a Samaritan, a scribe, a Pharisee, and even one of John the Baptist’s disciples. Gamaliel the Elder, whom we are told was a secret believer, is also present and sits by quietly. Caiaphas and the others each raise their objections to the new faith, to which the twelve apostles respond. Peter (who is telling the story) even warns that because God has provided baptism as a new means of atonement, if the people do not stop with the animal sacrifices and accept baptism, God will destroy the temple, and the abomination of desolation will be set up. The priests erupt in rage at the prediction, and Gamaliel intervenes, urging calm, since if this movement is but a human undertaking it will fail, but if from God, to oppose it is sin. Gamaliel promised to refute the apostles himself on the following day. The next day James accompanied the apostles and found a great multitude present at the temple to hear the disputation. Gamaliel, however, continues to appease the crowd, so Caiaphas challenges James to defend his gospel strictly from Scripture. James accepts the challenge, and over the next seven days, he produces many proofs that Jesus is the Messiah, predicted to come twice, once in humility, and another in glory. James persuades Caiaphas and all the people so that they agree to prepare for baptism. At that point, “a certain hostile man” comes forward and shouts: “What are you doing, O men of Israel? Why are you so easily led away? Why are you led headlong by men who are most miserable and deceived by a magician?”319 The enemy is none other than Paul. James answers the hostile man, who then takes a firebrand from the altar and incites a riot against the apostles, during which much blood is shed. James is thrown down the temple steps and left for dead. The believers do not retaliate, but about 5000 flee to Jericho. Three days later, they learn from Gamaliel that the “hostile person” has been commissioned by the high priest to go to Damascus where, with the help of unbelievers, he will persecute (or massacre) the believers. The Ascents of James retells the story of the early church based on the first twelve chapters of the canonical Acts of the Apostles as a foundation legend for a presumed community of Jewish believers. They remained hostile to the memory of Paul, omitting his transformation and life of sacrifice in his mission to the Gentiles, yet they accept the essence of his gospel, which admits Gentiles into the community, apparently without a requirement of circumcision. Indeed, the basis for the acceptance of Gentiles is the full number God promised Abraham: “It was necessary, then, that the Gentiles be called in place of those who remained unbelievers, so that the number which was shown to Abraham would be satisfied; thus the preaching of the kingdom of God has been sent into all the world.”320 If the Jewish believers associated with the Ascents of James may be lumped into a community, we may as well call them “Jacobites” because of their reverence for James, the brother of the Lord. Our Jacobites saw Jesus as the true prophet “like


Moses,” the Messiah, who performed miracles in demonstration of God’s power. Jesus came to the work of Moses by replacing the system of animal sacrifice, which was temporarily instituted by Moses to forestall idolatry, with baptism as the means for salvation. Jesus chose 12 disciples, and then, like Moses, 72 disciples. Jesus is also “Lord of the Church” and “Son of Man,” and his preexistence is implied in that he “assumed a Jewish body.” The Jacobites desired to remain in communion with other Jews. They emphasize the function of Jesus rather than his nature, and the prophet-Messiah Christology is their answer to Jewish messianic ideology, especially after the temple sacrifice ceased. The Ascents of James is the only source in Jewish Christianity that taught baptism replaced animal sacrifice, in contrast to the replacement of circumcision, according to Paul. But like the practice of the “Great Church” (the dominant western Catholic Church), baptism is performed only once, and this for the forgiveness of sins. There is nothing in the canonical Epistle of James with which these Jewish believers would disagree. A sketch of the Jewish believers during the first three centuries is not possible except by way of historical imagination. After the Bar Kokhba war, when Jews were banished from Aelia Capitolina (Jerusalem), Gentile bishops took over the church in Jerusalem, which was now comprised of Gentile Christians with a mission to the Roman soldiers and all Gentiles who dwelt in the area. The Gentile bishops were in communion with the Great Church and at least frowned on the Jewish believers who continued to observe Jewish law. Elsewhere, Jewish believers retained a strong identity as Jews and thrived in Galilee, the Transjordan, and Syria. Some could claim direct descent from the earliest churches of Judaea, Galilee, and greater Syria; others were spiritual descendants, Jews who continued to join the Jewish believers with each generation. Some perhaps took pride in the name Ebionite; others might claim to be the most ancient, and therefore true, Nazarenes. Jewish believers, however, did not have an eye to a distant and glorious future for the history books but sought to survive in the economy of their own times and to remain faithful to their traditions of Jesus until he returned. Although they shared a loyalty to Jesus and the Torah, they differed on their relationship to Jews, the rabbis, polytheistic Hellenes, Gentile Christians, and the emerging Great Church. Here and there, charismatic leaders arose, some with Gnostic views, who formed new and more sectarian associations. We may be sure life was more complex than the literary and archaeological remains suggest, and it probably mirrors the complexity of what we know from the Jewish and Christian communities of their day. Where Jewish believers dwelt in sufficient numbers, they formed their own synagogues. In Caesarea, there was likely an Ebionite synagogue amid a host of Jewish synagogues and a few churches.

S4.4 Passover for Jews, Jewish Believers, and Christians Toward the end of the second century, says Eusebius, “no small controversy arose because all the dioceses of Asia thought it right, as though by more ancient tradition, to observe for the feast of the Savior’s Passover the fourteenth day of the


moon, on which the Jews had been commanded to kill the lamb.”321 If we are to speak of a parting of the ways between Jews and Christians, the Passover-Easter holy day conflict is among the most visible milestones. The post-temple Passover origins, as to be expected, are lost, but a few traces may be discerned. In the spring of 71, after the temple was destroyed, all Jews, including Jewish believers, were forced to decide how to continue the Passover without the previous slaughter of the paschal lamb in the temple. Samaritans, by contrast, could continue to slaughter their lambs on Mount Gerizim, and in the absence of a ruling authority, it is likely some Jews continued to slaughter lambs on the remains of the temple mount. While the daily sacrifice was never resumed, individual Jews, imitating as best they could the former Passover ritual, could and did decide how much of the temple ritual they wished to continue. In making a virtue of necessity, some rabbis left sacrifices optional, as attested by the early testimony of Rabbi Joshua: I have heard that one may offer sacrifice even though no Temple is there; that one may eat the Most Holy Things even though no curtains [around the outer court] are there; that one may eat less holy things and the second tithe even though there is no wall; for the first consecration [of the Temple] sanctified for the future as well as for its own time.322

However one decided, the Passover revision probably occurred randomly across the land of Palestine based on the traditions previously followed for all who did not go up to Jerusalem. The Feast of Unleavened Bread was not seriously affected, so it took on greater importance. Diaspora Jews had the least adjustment to make, except that Passover ceased to be a momentous pilgrimage feast. Many continued to eat a roast lamb at Passover. The Tosefta mentions Todos, a Jew in Rome, who encouraged the roasting of “Passover-lambs” (for which he was censured by the sages); while Augustine in his time (ca. 390–430) knew of Jews in North Africa who roasted a lamb on Passover, which he thought was a sacrifice, but later he discovered it was only a commemorative roasting.323 Jewish Passover celebration during late Second Temple times is described by Philo and Josephus as a joyful celebration that recalled the experience of the Israelites during the exodus.324 Participants slaughtered the lambs by their own hands, and groups of no fewer than ten assembled in Jerusalem to feast on roast lamb and dipped vegetables, and as in a spiritual banquet, offered up hymns and prayers. The hymns included the Hallel Psalms (113–118) during the temple sacrifice, but a more specific liturgy is not preserved. Most pilgrims did not know Hebrew and brought their own festival traditions with them, so each pilgrim community celebrated the Passover meal in their native tongue as they chose. There is no reason to think Jews from Alexandria kept the same customs as those in Antioch, much less those in Rome or Parthia. Even within Palestine there is no evidence of a liturgical standard, and the Synoptic Gospel account presupposes the freedom to eat the Passover as one wished. It appears that the Passover meal followed the structure of a Greco-Roman festal meal and symposium. Accordingly, after the banquet they brought out wine and engaged in conversation as an art form. Sons were to be instructed, and depending on local customs, women were included. The


Passover celebration was the Jewish symposium par excellence, and the main topic of conversation was liberty from bondage. For this reason the Passover was such a volatile time in Jerusalem: Jews from around both empires came together and commemorated, with plenty of wine, that nebulous concept of freedom. Among Jewish believers, Jesus was called “our paschal lamb” (1 Cor 5:7) well before John made it a central theme of his Gospel and structured the crucifixion to occur when the lambs were slaughtered.325 Followers of Jesus interpreted his sacrificial death into the annual Passover festival well before the destruction of the temple. The association was a theological innovation because the Passover lamb was not for the forgiveness of sins. Even John’s declaration that Jesus is “the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” had no inherent link to Passover, but the death of Jesus at Passover was sufficient reason to call Jesus the paschal sacrifice. Possibly the manner in which most Diaspora Jews celebrated Passover without the paschal lamb will have laid a foundation so that after the destruction of the temple, when the Passover changed of necessity, Jewish believers had some form of established tradition. Since we know virtually nothing of Diaspora Passover celebrations, we may only speculate how Jewish believers and Christians remembered the occasion. The common assumption based on practices a century later that the early Christians fasted during Passover is not supported by the evidence, of which Paul’s statement is the base text. Cleanse out the old leaven that you may be a new lump, as you really are unleavened. For Christ, our paschal lamb, has been sacrificed. Let us, therefore, celebrate the festival, not with the old leaven, the leaven of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.326

Because Christ is the “paschal lamb,” Paul implies that Passover no longer needs a sacrificial lamb, and any celebration of the festival should reflect the metaphorical unleavened bread in a new life of sincerity and truth. There is no suggestion that Jewish believers ceased to participate in the Passover feast, however it may have been performed. The sacrifice of Jesus simply gave the feast new meaning, and according to Paul, made the paschal sacrifice in Jerusalem irrelevant, just as all the holy days were irrelevant.327 The sages at Yavneh joined in the attempt to reformulate a Passover without the temple. Gamaliel wanted to continue with the roast sacrifice of lamb or kid, but other sages were against it.328 We are told, “Rabban Gamaliel said to Tabi his servant, ‘Go and roast the Passover offering for us on a grill’, ” which if this is Gamaliel II, he ignored his companions and proves a diversity of practice among the sages as well as among the general population.329 On one Passover, Gamaliel spent the entire night discussing the laws of the Passover sacrifice with a group of sages in a house in Lydda.330 The incident was later enshrined in the Passover Haggadah as the five Rabbis who met for a Seder at B’nei Brak, and all night long they recalled the exodus story. The early Tosefta tradition, however, reflects the problem of compensating for the absence of the lamb sacrifice by discussing “the laws” of the sacrifice, not the exodus story. The Mishnah adds that Gamaliel argued that during the celebration whoever did not explain the Passover sacrifice, the unleavened bread, and the bitter


herbs had not fulfilled his obligation.331 Traditionally, by this injunction Gamaliel is thought to have instituted the Passover Haggadah. A more realistic view is that Gamaliel is merely giving guidelines for the content of the “table talk” symposium stage of Passover. All that can be said with some confidence during the first century after the destruction of the temple is that Jews and Christians were establishing new and varied ways to celebrate Passover, which by its very nature became a focal point for mutual antagonism and self-definition. In the next two centuries, Jews, Jewish believers, and Gentile Christians will develop separate Passover liturgies, each pretending their customs go back to the days of the Second Temple, and apparently each aware of the others. In the mid-second century, an early Christian work portrays Jesus as having come to his apostles and commanded them to “celebrate the remembrance of my death, which is the Passover.”332 Meanwhile, the sages were establishing the responsiblity of the father to recite the exodus from Egypt as a substitute for the Passover sacrifice.333

S4.4.1 Paschal Controversy While mentioning the Paschal controversy and the eastern tradition of Christians who followed the Jewish Passover, Eusebius says, “Yet it was not the custom to celebrate in this manner in the churches throughout the rest of the world, for from apostolic tradition they kept the custom which still exists that it is not right to finish the fast on any day save that of the resurrection of our Savior.”334 Eusebius writes from his own fourth-century historicizing perspective when he speaks for the rest of the world and the apostolic tradition. He seeks to justify the received Western tradition, as if it were original to Peter in Rome. During the second century, Christians in the West felt the celebration of the resurrection should always fall on the Lord’s Day, which occurred on the Sun’s day, and his death reckoned on the previous Friday. As the churches grew closer in their communication, the date of the Paschal celebration became the first universal controversy of the church, and one of very few over a matter of practice rather than belief. While on a visit to Rome in 155, Polycarp sought to persuade the current bishop, Anicetus, to accept the older tradition of Asia. Anicetus refused but had no objections to the Eastern Christians following their own tradition. The matter was not settled and represents that most visible symbol of the separation of Gentile Christianity from its covenantal Jewish roots. The Christian traditionalists, rooted in Asia Minor, observed Good Friday on the fourteenth of Nisan, and therefore they became known as Quartodecimans (Fourteenthers). The controversy persisted into the following decades and came to a head when Victor I, bishop of Rome (189–198), asked the major dioceses of Christianity to address the problem. Eusebius mentions the synods and their presiding bishops: Theophilus in Caesarea, Narcissus in Jerusalem, Victor in Rome, Palmas in Pontus, Irenaeus in Gaul, and Bacchyllus in Corinth. Edessa was among the synods, but the bishop is not named. Eusebius gives a sense of the Jewish inheritance of the Asian Christians in the person of Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, who spoke for


the Eastern bishops of Caesarea, Jerusalem, Pontus, and even in Gaul. Polycrates sent a defiant letter to Victor in which he claimed that from the apostolic bishops, John and Philip, through other martyrs and bishops, Polycarp of Smyrna, Thraseas of Eumenia, Sagaris, Papirius, and Melito of Sardis, all “kept the fourteenth day of Passover according to the gospel, never swerving.” He concluded, “Therefore, brethren, I who have lived sixty-five years in the Lord and conversed with brethren from every country, and have studied all holy Scripture, am not afraid of threats, for they have said who were greater than I, ‘It is better to obey God rather than men.’ ”335 Victor responded by excommunicating en masse the bishops of Asia Minor, and they apparently shrugged their shoulders. Irenaeus, however, rebuked Victor for resorting to excommunication of whole churches of God over a matter of following ancient custom. He offered a word of wisdom, which, if followed, might have changed the history of the church: Such variation of observance did not begin in our own time, but much earlier, in the days of our predecessors who, it would appear, disregarding strictness maintained a practice which is simple and yet allows for personal preference, establishing it for the future, and none the less all these lived in peace, and we also live in peace with one another and the disagreements in the fast confirms our agreement in the faith.336

In defense of Victor, he governed a melting pot of Christianity in the many immigrants to Rome and felt that if Christians observed the feasts however they liked, the unity of the church could not be maintained. Shortly after, Hippolytus in Rome would call the Quartodecimans “by nature fond of strife” and heretical.337 The conflict reflected the growing need for a Christian identity among the Gentile majority that was distinct from the former Jewish identity. For many Eastern bishops, however, it should not be so. Scripture required Passover to be celebrated according to the lunar calendar, and the regulations that applied to Jews also applied to aliens and sojourners who dwelt among the Jews. Like the compromise of James at the council of Jerusalem, any regulations that applied to Gentiles, such as the laws given to Noah, were to be followed by Christians. The laws of Passover permitted Gentiles to celebrate the feast, but only according to the laws laid down. By contrast, Western bishops argued that the correct celebration of Passover was made new and different by the advent of Jesus. Old rituals, like circumcision, were replaced by new rituals according to the spiritual interpretation of the old. The new Passover had new meaning and required a new day.338 But the churches of Asia Minor, who lived in greater proximity to Jewish communities and had a higher proportion of Jewish believers in the congregations, thought the contrast between the old and the new is best seen when both Passover feasts are celebrated at the same time. They had greater reason to continue to encourage Jews to join them.

S4.4.2 Melito of Sardis: On the Passover Among the noted Quartodeciman bishops, Melito of Sardis is best known, and this for his Paschal sermon “On the Passover” (Peri Pascha) that provides the


earliest reference to a Christian Passover.339 His paschal homilies were delivered to the congregation precisely on the evening when the Jews nearby were celebrating their Passover Seder. In Sardis, the little church stood next to a large and ornate synagogue, which in turn stood next to the Greek gymnasium. The irony of the two events, the escape of Israel from the bondage of Egypt and the suffering and death of the Messiah—commemorated on the same evening—was a bottomless well of homiletic passion. While the Jews were feasting, the Christians were fasting. Melito rose to the occasion in a sermon that is remarkable for its familiarity with Jewish tradition and its intense contrast between the two Passover themes. He builds upon a popular in-house etymology among Greek-speaking Jews and appropriated by Christians, which used the transliterated Aramaic pascha into Greek (πάσχα) to derive a new Greek verb “to suffer” (paschein) because of its similarity to the existing Greek verb “to suffer” (pathein). The etymology from transliterated Aramaic to Greek was, as etymology, specious, but a trenchant one that was known to Philo and Irenaeus.340 Melito then contrasts the old to the new, the law to the gospel. Surely you were filled with gaiety, but he was filled with hunger; you drank wine and ate bread, but he vinegar and gall; you wore a happy smile, but he had a sad countenance; you were full of joy, but he was full of trouble; you sang songs, but he was judged; you issued the command, he was crucified; you danced, he was buried; you lay down on a soft bed, but he in a tomb and coffin. . . . Pay attention, all families of the nations, and observe! An extraordinary murder has taken place in the center of Jerusalem, in the city devoted to God’s law, in the city of the Hebrews, in the city of the prophets, in the city thought of as just. And who has been murdered? And who is the murderer? I am ashamed to give the answer, but give it I must. . . . And thus he was lifted upon the tree, and an inscription was affixed identifying the one who had been murdered. Who was he? . . . The one who hung the earth in space, is himself hanged; the one who fixed the heavens in place, is himself impaled; . . . The Lord is insulted, God has been murdered, the King of Israel has been destroyed by the right hand of Israel.341


Although Melito has been called “the first poet of deicide,” scholars differ on the extent to which he was castigating the Jews of his own day.342 In the sermon, Melito never refers to the Jews; rather, he speaks of Israel and the people, and upon reflection, it is unlikely that he addressed the Jewish congregation down the street. He and his congregation had their own troubles. Many were dying for their faith while Jews remained a legitimate and accepted religious people. At that time, the distinctions between Judaism and Christianity were still vague. It was just that context that required self-definition. Melito was certainly not speaking to an audience two millennia in the future with an acute sense of anti-Semitism or even antiJudaism. Some have proposed that Melito was Jewish.343 The argument depends on Polycarp’s letter to Victor, in which he speaks of the bishops before him, including Philip, John, Polycarp, and Melito, as his kinsmen who all observed Passover according to the Jewish calendar. The bishops Philip and John were certainly Jews, and the others could be, if by kinsmen or compatriots (suggeneis) Polycarp means his ethnic origin, as does Paul when using the same word.344 At first blush the notion that Melito might have been raised Jewish is difficult to accept, but the vehemence of his sermon is hardly breaking new ground, given Paul’s attitude toward his fellow Jews on certain matters of conviction, or Matthew’s intense passion against his compatriots, or Covenanters of Qumran against their opponents. A Jewish background helps explain Melito’s knowledge of Jewish ritual and may elucidate his statement, “I am ashamed to give the answer, but give it I must.” Also, when he states in his apology to the Roman emperor, “Our philosophy first grew up among the barbarians, but its full flower came among your nation in the great reign of your ancestor Augustus,” he refers to Judaism. Even if by “our philosophy” he means only the biblical roots of Christianity, he would still be referring to his ancestral heritage. At the least, he shows great attachment to the Jewish roots of Christianity. But his Jewish ethnicity remains only an intriguing possibility.

S4.4.3 Passover Haggadah Similarities between Melito’s Peri Pascha sermon and the Jewish Passover Haggadah have led to a host of comparisons, and more recently an energetic discussion among scholars that is reminiscent of what we imagine the early arguments between Jews and Christians to have been. In the sermon Melito accuses the Jews of ingratitude for their deliverance from Egypt. O ungrateful Israel, come here and be judged . . . How much did you value the ten plagues? How much did you value the nightly pillar and the daily cloud, And the crossing of the Red Sea? How much did you value the giving of manna from heaven, and the supply of water from a rock, and the giving of Torah at Horeb, and the inheritance of the Land (sections 87–88).


The most obvious Jewish parallel is the Haggadah song Dayenu, which responds to the miracles of the exodus with “it would have sufficed” after each divine act. A few verses from the Dayenu will show the similarities: For had He divided the Sea for us, and had not caused us to pass over on dry land: Dayenu [It would have sufficed]. For had He caused us to pass over on dry land, and had not plunged our oppressors into the midst of the sea: Dayenu. For had He plunged our oppressors into the midst of the sea, and had not supplied our needs in the desert for forty years, and had not fed us with manna: Dayenu. For had He fed us with manna, and had not given us the Sabbath: Dayenu. For had He given us the Sabbath, and had not brought us nigh unto Mount Sinai: Dayenu.

Another example is provided by Israel Yuval: The general view of Jewish and Christian ritual texts existing in mutual dialogue shed new light on the Haggadah opening, Ha lachma anya, which begins, “This is the bread of affliction that our forefathers ate in the land of Egypt.” These words appear to be aimed against the Christian liturgical parallel drawn from the words of Jesus, “This is my body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19, e.g.) [= 1 Cor 11:24]. In Matthew (26:26) the formula includes also an invitation to eat: “Take eat; this is my body,” a reminder of the Haggadah invitation with which Ha lachma anya continues, “Let all who are hungry come and eat.”345

The difficulty for such comparisons is the question of what constitutes evidence, and the scholarly disputes over the Passover liturgies offer an exemplary case of the difficulties facing historians. Melito’s sermon (ca. 170) comes a lifetime before the earliest evidence for a Jewish Haggadah in the Mishnah (ca. 220). The Dayenu song is first attested only in the tenth-century prayer book of Saadia Gaon (882–942), head of the Sura academy. When was it composed? Did it circulate as oral tradition long before our extant copy? How long? Noted scholars have dated the Dayenu to the Maccabean era or the late Herodian era; others reject these early dates because of the silence about it during the five centuries of the Talmudic era. Melito’s accusations of ingratitude are found in various forms over the next few centuries, culminating in the ninth-century Byzantine hymn Improperia (“Reproaches”), in which the dying Christ levels on his own people the accusations of ingratitude for the miracles of the exodus. The Improperia reads like an “anti-Jewish parody of the Dayenu of the Passover-Haggadah.”346 Many scholars accept the proposal that Melito’s sermon is the origin for the entire Dayenu tradition. Others say Melito is responding to an early form of the Dayenu or that Melito based his text on previous traditions, such as the similar passage in 4 Ezra 15:12–24.


As for the Jewish Passover Haggadah, the older view that the Mishnah tractate Pesachim merely regulates a Haggadah developed during the Second Temple era has given way to the opinion that the rabbis developed the Haggadah de nouveau, but they artfully made it appear as if this were how things had been done from antiquity.347 This time-honored tactic was being practiced by Christians as well. The question then becomes one of influence between Jews and Christians. Some argue that because there is no evidence for a Jewish Haggadah prior to Melito, Christians were the innovators of a post-temple Passover Haggadah, and the rabbis constructed their Haggadah in reaction to the Jewish Christian paschal liturgies, such as that of Melito. A minimalist view notes that Melito’s sermon is not strictly a liturgy, and evidence for Passover liturgy is scarce in Palestine and entirely lacking in the Jewish Diaspora, where one community might influence another; therefore, the safest position to take, pending new evidence, is that the rabbinic Pesach and the Christian Pascha developed independent of each other.348 The problem with such independence is the assumption of segregated communities, intellectual ghettos that did not exist in late antiquity. We have sufficient evidence for dialogue between Jews and Christians to suppose a fair amount of mutual influence, including through intermarriages and the migration of Jewish believers between communities. It is safe to conclude that the Passover liturgies of Christians and Jews reflect a competitive relationship over the early centuries, but an attempt at greater precision will not withstand historical scrutiny at this time.349 It is generally accepted that the Latin Dominical Pascha (Easter) arose in the late second century out of the Quartodeciman Pascha, not independently from some apostolic practice. The Quartodeciman Pascha emphasized the suffering of Jesus and the contrast against the traditional Jewish Pesach. It was the same holy day, with a different sense of holiness. Melito’s sermon is the most eloquent extant example of the early Christian or Jewish believer Passover. The Latin West preferred to break completely from its Jewish roots. The association of suffering with Pascha, made explicit by the false etymology (paschein = pathein), gave way to the idea of passage in the exodus story. By the end of the second century, Clement of Alexandria described the Passover as the passage from death to life rather than the passion (“suffering”) of Jesus. Soon after, Origen put matters right: Most, if not all, of the brethren think that the Pascha is named Pascha from the passion of the Savior. However, the feast in question is not called precisely Pascha by the Hebrews, but pasach. . . . Translated it means “passage.” Since it is on this feast that the people goes forth from Egypt, it is logical to call it pasach, that is, “passage.”350

Once the Christian Pascha was severed from the Jewish Pesach calendar, Christians adapted the entire Passover week to its own Holy Week with a series of ritual enactments of the last week of Christ, culminating in the resurrection on Sunday. The main changes, however, occurred after the rise of Constantine. The primary rite that passed from the Eastern Pascha to the Western Pascha was the vigil. In the Eastern Pascha, a vigil was held on the eve of the fourteenth of Nisan and concluded after midnight, when the Jewish Passover meal had been eaten. Christians developed a three-day vigil, from the death of Jesus on Friday to the resurrection


on Sunday. The vigil was to end at cockcrow Sunday morning, though some communities ended at midnight. Others sought to end the all-night vigil at the hour Jesus rose from the dead. To their inquiry on the precise hour of the resurrection, Dionysius of Alexandria (ca. 260) had to answer that we cannot know. Tertullian and Hippolytus note that the Holy Week was the preferred time for baptisms, in which the supplicant could best identify with the death and resurrection of the Lord. As the books of the future New Testament canon became widely known, certain passages became part of the liturgy, and the Holy Week grew further from the Jewish Pesach. Eventually the Anglo-Saxon world called it Easter, which, according to the Venerable Bede (ca. 673–735), was adopted from its proximity to a vernal festival of the Anglo-Saxon goddess Eastre or Eostre. The date of the Dominical Pascha celebration had depended on the Jewish Passover, and Christians attempted to retain a proximity to it. The reality was that not only did Jewish communities celebrate Passover at different times according to their own best calculations, but also Christians were also governed by different calendar computations, and despite efforts to reach a common date, the diversity would continue. Out of the murky origins, we are left with the mysterious Seder egg and Easter egg. The rabbis of Palestine developed their Passover Haggadah with an eye to preserving the spontaneity of conversation. The guidelines for the conversation are laid out beginning with the question ma nishtana: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” The conversation is to progress from disgrace to glory and includes the Scripture, “A wandering Aramaean was my father.”351 Gamaliel II further outlines the conversation: Whoever has not referred to these three matters connected to the Passover has not fulfilled his obligation, and these are they: Passover, unleavened bread, and bitter herbs. Passover—because the Omnipresent passed over the houses of our forefathers in Egypt. Unleavened bread—because our forefathers were redeemed in Egypt. Bitter herbs—because the Egyptians embittered the lives of our forefathers in Egypt. In every generation a person is duty-bound to regard himself as if he personally has gone forth from Egypt, since it is said, And you shall tell your son in that day saying, It is because of that which the Lord did for me when I came forth out of Egypt (Ex. 13:8). Therefore we are duty-bound to thank, praise, glorify, honor, exalt, extol, and bless him who did for our forefathers and for us all these miracles. He brought us forth from slavery to freedom, anguish to joy, mourning to festival, darkness to great light, subjugation to redemption, so we should say before him, Hallelujah.352

Accordingly, Rabban Gamaliel required this declaration of loyalty and gratitude. The declaration may be an implicit response to the Christian charge of ingratitude, but it is not necessarily so. Scholars who think a standardized Haggadah had developed by the time of the Mishnah observe that during the Tannaim, the Seder meal was first eaten, and then the Haggadah was recited. Later, the Haggadah was recited before the meal, and this too, it is argued, is a response to Christian symbolism.353 Others argue that a standard Haggadah did not exist, and therefore no shift of a liturgy around the meal was made, nor was it affected by Christian liturgy.354 The discussion in the later Talmud merely adds Scripture passages.


The Mishnah also states: “After the Passover meal they should not disperse to join in revelry.355 The words “in revelry” (afikoman) transliterates the Greek epi kōmon and probably meant that the Passover conversation should not end like most banquet symposia with intoxicated revelry; after all, children were present. That the admonition was needed tells us something of how the Passover was celebrated and puts some Jews in good company with some Christians, at least those in Corinth, whom Paul scolded for drunkenness during the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor 11:21–22). The problem of intemperance during banquets was hardly unusual. Athenaeus ( fl. 200), who wrote his treatise The Learned Banquet around the time of the Mishnah, quoted advice on drinking wine: Three bowls only do I mix for the temperate—one to health, which they empty first, the second to love and pleasure, the third to sleep. When this is drunk up wise guests go home. The fourth bowl is ours no longer, but belongs to violence; the fifth to uproar, the sixth to drunken revel, the seventh to black eyes. The eighth is the policeman’s, the ninth belongs to biliousness, and the tenth to madness and hurling furniture.356

The Tosefta suggests that one should study the laws of Passover all night,357 and the Palestinian Talmud also warns that wine after dinner leads to drunkenness, while wine before dinner does not.358 In later Talmudic times, the meaning of the word afikoman was forgotten, and it was thought to be some sort of dessert. Rabbinic tradition also preserves a homily of Simeon b. Halafta, which presupposes the desire of some uncircumcised Jews (most likely Gentile Christians) to participate in the Passover feast without conversion. The text was Exod 12:43–44: This is the ordinance for the Passover: no foreigner shall eat of it, but any slave who has been purchased may eat of it after he has been circumcised. R. Simeon said, “When the Israelites saw that the uncircumcised were disqualified from eating the Passover, they arose with the least possible delay and circumcised all their servants and sons and all those who [subsequently] went out with them, as it says: Thus did all the children of Israel (12:50). It can be compared to a king who arranged a banquet for his friends and who said: “Unless the invited guests show my seal [on the invitation card], none can enter.”359

The homily responds to the known problem of Christians celebrating Passover. The seal is the sign of circumcision, which was required of anyone celebrating Passover. The homily may also have supported those Christian Judaizers who took the Torah seriously. The parable bears a striking similarity to the teaching of Jesus on the king who gave a wedding feast, but only those with the wedding garments were permitted to enter (Matt 22:2–13). All of this is further evidence of a continual dialogue between Jewish and Christian neighbors.

Part Five

(312–455 c.e.)

Chapter 19

Constantine and the Christian Empire (312–337 c.e.)

19.1 Rome and Persia 19.1.1 Roman Empire When Galerius had died in putrid agony and Maxentius drowned in the Tiber, three ambitious rulers remained standing: Constantine over Italy and the West, Licinius and Maximinus over the East. Licinius took Constantine’s sister, Constantia, as wife, sealing the new relationship with Constantine through marriage. Their first act was to summon the Christians in the East to support them by granting full religious tolerance in the so-called Edict of Milan in 313, later published in the East by Licinius. It was then left to Licinius to do away with Maximinus, which he did near Adrianople later that year. Over the next decade, Constantine ruled the West, Licinius the East. After Diocletian died in 316, a brief war erupted between them, which Licinius lost, and they settled the question of territory. Licinius granted Constantine control of the Balkans, except for Thrace. On March 1, 317, they made a new pact and named their infant sons as successors. Constantine confirmed Crispus by his first wife, and Constantinus by his wife Fausta as his Caesars. Licinius confirmed his son, Licinius II. From 317 to 324 Constantine ruled a relatively peaceful empire. He was therefore able to turn his attention to the rising force of the Christian minority, which required his participation in its theology and overripe controversies. The most pressing matter broiling among the Christians of Africa was the question of what to do with Christians who had fled or apostatized during the Great Persecution. Those Christians who had suffered maiming, or had been condemned to the mines, or had watched their loved ones decapitated and burned at the stake, all for their loyalty to God, were not inclined to let those who recanted, apostatized, or fled to the wilderness return to fellowship in the body of Christ with no more than a polite apology and a rap on the fingers. What was martyrdom for? What of the heritage of the saints? The conflict began with the appointment of an archdeacon named Caecilian as bishop of Carthage around 311. Caecilian was a flawed candidate in the eyes of many because during the Diocletian persecution he had supported his bishop in suppressing the desire for martyrdom expressed by many Christians, and he now proposed reconciliation with Christians who had fled from the persecution. These


stalwart Christians demanded Caecilian be replaced. When this was refused, they broke from the established clergy and appointed their own bishop, Majorinus, who was succeeded by Donatus, from whom the name of the schismatics, Donatists, emerged. The Numidian bishops supported the Donatists, so that when appeal was made to the newly Christian emperor, Constantine, the matter was no longer theological but institutional, and a cause for social instability. Constantine summoned the disputants to a council in Rome, to be judged by bishops of Gaul with the bishop of Rome presiding. The council decided against the Donatists, but they appealed, and Constantine heard their case at Arles in 314. He also exonerated Caecilian and ordered the Donatist churches closed. From 316 onward, Constantine attempted to stamp out the schism, but he was no more successful than had been Diocletian and Galerius, or Decius, Domitian, and Nero, against Christians. The Donatists were rigorists, remnants of the true martyrs, and in their mind the pure church. They could be neither persuaded nor coerced. The blood of the martyrs is seed. When Constantine saw that the Donatists craved martyrdom, he washed his hands of the conflict. The pure church became the dominant body of Christians in Africa, drawing its strength and numbers from the rural and more African populace (Punic and Berber) against the more Romanized city dwellers. The Donatist schism, however, impressed upon Constantine the need for a unified Christian ideology by which to rule his unified empire. In 321, Constantine declared Sun’s day (dies solis) an official holiday.1 The move was not specifically a Christian one, though the holiday most facilitated Christians. Constantine had always been a solar monotheist, a devotee of the Invincible Sun, a devotion that expressed itself now in Christianity, the true religion of the true God. The holiday would be but one of many transformations of Christianity as it donned the robe of Roman culture. Every sun worshiper joined in. It primarily affected dwellers in cities, where business ceased, while farmers went about their daily chores as required. The official designation of Sunday would be “the Lord’s day” in later legislation, but both Hellenes and Christians continued to use the traditional name of Sun’s day, as well as Moon’s day, Mars’ day, Mercury’s day, Jupiter’s day, Venus’s day, and Saturn’s day.2 Relations between Constantine and Licinius deteriorated. Constantine was determined to control all the empire, and Licinius had reverted to a mild persecution of Christians in the East, restricting them from his personal service, as well as his administration and the army, where he required troops to sacrifice to the Roman gods. Constantine had, therefore, an excuse to fulfill his ambitions, as well as his mission for God. On December 25, 323, Constantine prohibited anyone from forcing Christians to sacrifice to the gods, as Licinius had done for the celebration of his twentieth year of rule. The next year, Constantine invaded the territory of Licinius north of Thessaly, won an initial victory, and pursued him to Byzantium, where he laid siege. After Licinius lost his fleet in battle, he fled across the Bosporus straights to Asia, engaged Constantine near Chalcedon, and again lost. Upon the intervention of Constantia, Constantine swore an oath to spare Licinius, and he abdicated. Within a year, however, Licinius was accused of plotting against the emperor and was executed along with his 10-year-old son.

Constantine and the Christian Empire 455

Constantine, now the undisputed ruler of the Roman Empire, took off the laurel wreath and put on the diadem. He began construction of a mammoth bridge across the Danube, more than 2400 meters in length, that gave access to the Dacian frontier and the subjection of the Tervingi Goths. He also decided to build a new city on the site of Byzantium, the European pillar of the Bosporus. The city of Byzantium (Constantinople, modern Istanbul) grew out of an eighth-century b.c.e. Greek colony that, because of its strategic location, had fluctuated between Persian and Greek control until it accepted the rule of Alexander the Great, and then the rule of Rome as a free city. Because the city sided with Niger in the civil war with Septimius Severus, the victorious Severus destroyed it but rebuilt it more grandly. Constantine inaugurated the city of New Rome by a foundation ceremony in October of 324. The new city, called Nova Roma, became the centerpiece of a new empire. And the new empire, to be a true empire, required a new ethos and new law. Christianity was to supply both. Religion was the tie that binds the people in a shared loyalty to a cause higher than the empire, to a sovereign higher than the emperor. Diocletian had attempted to revive the old religion of the Roman state, but he could not bring the Christians into it. Could Constantine draw the majority of Hellenes to a still minority religion? At the time of Constantine’s conversion, a conservative estimate of the number of Christians in the empire is about 9 million, or 15 percent of the population reckoned at a stable 60 million. But Christians lived mostly in the cities, and in many cities they may have already been a majority.3 Now, Christianity, with imperial favor behind it, was fast becoming the majority religion, and the emperor required unity among the leaders. Constantine sought a uniform practice of Christian ritual that would foster the stability of the empire, and such unity of belief as could be had. He was not a theologian and was prepared to suffer nuances of doctrine so long as these did not undermine his rule. Toward that end, he convened the first ecumenical council of the Christian church. 19.1.1.1 Constantine’s Council at Nicaea In 325, Christian bishops from across the empire converged on the city of Nicaea to participate in a celebration of Constantine’s twentieth year of rule. Nicaea in Bithynia (northwestern Turkey), just south of Nicomedia, was famous for its well-laid city plan and boasted a history of illustrious shrines to gods and emperors. Mythology ascribed its foundation to the god Dionysius and the nymph Nicaea, although its name was bestowed only in 301 by the Diadochi king Lysimachus for his wife, Nicaea.4 Between 250 and 300 bishops, accompanied by a heavenly host of deacons and presbyters, convened at the emperor’s request for the purpose of settling three controversies that marred his universal rule: the succession of bishops, the date of Pascha, and the nature of Christ.5 The emperor did not preside over the council, but much as a shepherd watches over the affairs of his flock, he sat in regal observance. This council, which Eusebius would later call ecumenical (worldwide), was driven by the political goals of the emperor. The next four such ecumenical councils would convene under the same political constraint.


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The matter of the succession of bishops was fairly routine. New bishops were to be elected by all the bishops in the province, with approval of the bishop of the provincial metropolis, and a minimum of three bishops required for ordination (consecration). The council approved the dominance of the three main cities of the empire, Alexandria, Rome, and Antioch, and gave their bishops metropolitan jurisdiction over larger areas. This act laid the foundation for later patriarchates. Jerusalem was given special honor but left under the authority of the provincial capital, Caesarea. A date for the celebration of the Dominical Pascha had never won agreement among all churches. The Christians of Asia Minor, like the holy apostles, had observed the Jewish lunar calendar and commemorated the passion of Christ on the day of preparation before Passover, the fourteenth of Nisan, known as the Quartodeciman formula. Constantine sided with the Western view that it was unfitting that Christians should follow the dictates of the Jews, and said so. Celebration of the foremost Christian holy day demanded uniformity.6 The Synod of Arles in 314 had established for the West the Alexandrian date for Pascha on the first Sunday after the new moon following the vernal equinox. The Council of Nicaea confirmed this date as universal for the universal church. The coherence of this decision is in doubt, because it continued to be a controversy. The nature of Christ was a different basket of fish and five loaves. It was a philosophical and philological inquiry: a human attempt to define the essence of the unknowable God, using pliant words in two languages. All agreed, according to John 3:16, that Jesus Christ was the monogenēs son of God; but what did that mean? The Greek monogenēs could mean “unique” (Lat. unicus) or “only begotten” (Lat. unigenitus).7 A functional description of Jesus had long been a stable creed in Christian thought, a soteriology that confessed Jesus had come in the flesh, lived a sinless life, submitted to the cross in obedience to the Father, and died for the sins of the world. God raised up this Jesus and made him Lord and Messiah, where he now sits at the right hand of God, and thence he shall come again to judge the living and the dead. Salvation came by confession that Jesus is Lord and baptism into his election as the people of God. But the essence of Jesus and his relationship with God had not been resolved. A variety of solutions had been proposed, but most had been rejected by many, and none had been accepted by all. At one end of the christological spectrum, the solution called modalism, God in three modes, or roles (like judge, husband, and advocate) had been roundly rejected because it made Christ insufficiently distinct. At the other end, some views that seemed to reflect three Gods, a tritheism, had also been rejected as incompatible with monotheism. Origen had offered a middle way, in which the Trinity should be understood as a divine hierarchy: God the Father bestows divinity on the Son and the Holy Spirit; like the sun and its rays, they are essentially one, and eternal, yet they abide in a hierarchical relationship, the rays dependent on the sun. Deacon Arius, probably a native of Libya, ordained by Bishop Alexander of Alexandria, had proposed a solution several years earlier. He discerned that the main problem was the belief that Jesus was eternal, and therein lay the dilemma. An


eternal Jesus meant there were two first causes, or prime movers, or uncreated creators, and that was absurd in any scheme of monotheism. He argued that Jesus was, as Paul had said, the “firstborn of all creation.”8 Because Jesus was created, there was “a time” when he was not; therefore he should not be seen as eternal. Many Christians judged Arius the more scriptural and cited Prov 8:22, “The Lord created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of long ago.” Jesus was unique and above all creation, but he was not eternal God. In their view, Arius did not lessen the adoration due to Jesus Christ, and he solved the dilemma that threatened monotheism. But the view of Arius had already been condemned 5 years earlier by his superior, Alexander, bishop of Alexandria, who held that the Jesus of Arius was only by degrees superior to humankind. Alexander had convened a hundred bishops of Egypt who excommunicated Arius. Elsewhere, especially in Roman Syria, Arius was well received. Two pious men welcomed him: Bishop Eusebius of Nicomedia, and the famous historian Bishop Eusebius of Caesarea. In the freshness of the moment, each side seemed good. But now at the Council of Nicaea, another deacon of Alexandria, Athanasius, argued that the Jesus of Arius could not do for humanity what only God could do. The whole point of the incarnation was that God became human, in order to effect the vicarious atonement for humanity. Accordingly, the functional definition of Jesus depended on the essential definition after all. The sides locked horns. Arius and his defenders lost. His demotion of Jesus was incompatible with the worship Jesus received. The dilemma, however, was not resolved: anathematizing a heresy was not the same as expounding an orthodoxy. And Constantine demanded a creed that bound all Christians together in loyalty to Christ and to his representative on earth, Constantine. He would not sacrifice unity on the altar of metaphysical trifles. The council, therefore, produced an anti-Arian creed, better known as the Nicene Creed. Constantine, supported by his Spanish advisor, Hosius, even contributed a phrase: the Son is homoousios, “of the same substance” as the Father. In an effort to condemn Arius and provide Constantine with his universal creed, the bishops of the council composed and signed—nearly three centuries after Jesus had surrendered himself to human authorities for crucifixion—the Nicene Creed. The following is the earliest form of the creed: We believe in One God, the Father, Almighty, Maker of all things visible and invisible: And in One Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the Father, Only-begotten [monogenēs], that is, from the substance of the Father; God from God, Light from Light, Very God from very God, begotten not made, Consubstantial [homoousios] with the Father, by whom all things were made, both things in heaven and things in earth; who for us men and for our salvation came down and was incarnate, was made man, suffered, and rose again the third day, ascended into heaven, and is coming to judge the living and the dead. And in the Holy Spirit. And those who say “There was when he was not,” and “Before his generation he was not,” and “he came to be from nothing,” or those who pretend that the Son of God is “Of other hypostasis or substance,” or “created,” or “alterable,” or “mutable,” the Catholic and Apostolic Church anathematizes.9


The last sentence of the creedal statement was an effort to exclude various views that happily affirmed Jesus was God, knowing the statement could be interpreted in a plethora of ways. The creed tells us, 1700 years later, how important and alive the debate was in their day: a precise statement of belief was deemed necessary, at least by Constantine and some key bishops, for unification of the Christian faith and even for divine blessing upon the empire. The Council of Nicaea was dismissed, and after banqueting together in honor of the emperor’s 20 years of rule, each bishop with his entourage departed the presence of the Christian emperor and prepared for the theological struggles that were sure to come. 19.1.1.2 Final Years of Constantine and Helena’s True Cross In the last decade of his life, Constantine ruled his Christian empire from his capital of Nova Roma, New Rome. A tragedy shrouded in the obscurity of palace intrigue occurred in 326, when Constantine executed Crispus, his son by Minervina, his first wife, and damned his memory. Soon after, he executed his wife Fausta by having her placed in an overheated bath until she expired. The story arose that Crispus was accused of attempting to seduce his stepmother, Fausta. There is no record of a trial. Constantine’s regret, if any, is not recorded. The aged queen mother, Helena, soon left on a tour of Palestine.10 Eusebius states simply that Constantine converted his mother Helena to Christianity, and because conversion of the emperor’s household was expected, this probably took place shortly after 312.11 Her Christian convictions may have grown slowly, but by 325 she had transformed one of her royal chambers into a chapel.12 The pilgrimage of Helena in 326 was also, or perhaps principally, a state visit designed to bring stability to the eastern region through the establishment of Christian institutions. The Hellene aristocrats in eastern regions of the empire were less accommodating of Constantine’s conversion to Christianity than in the west and were offended by the loss of imperial patronage for their temples. Now Constantine sought to promote the new imperial faith by the establishment of churches. Helena’s tour was part of Constantine’s policy of christianization.13 In 326, Jerusalem was still called Aelia Capitolina, and the bishop was known as the bishop of Aelia. Origen had refused to call Jerusalem by its traditional Jewish appellation, the holy city, a term he reserved for the heavenly Jerusalem mentioned by Paul.14 The dejection and obscurity of Jerusalem was about to change. The seventh canon of the Council of Nicaea stated: “Since custom and ancient tradition have established that the bishop of Aelia should be honored, let him have next place of honor [after the bishop of Rome].”15 Caesarea would remain the provincial capital and the bishop of Caesarea the higher ecclesiastical authority for a while, but Jerusalem’s ancient honor was to be restored. Constantine took up the renovation of Aelia/Jerusalem with pious zeal, backed by the full resources of the state, along with his private fortune, determined to revive the holy city on earth. The temple of Venus, reputedly built over the tomb of Jesus, was demolished and the entire area dug up to reveal the sacred cave, the tomb revered by earliest Christians as the burial place of Jesus.

Constantine and the Christian Empire 461 Accordingly, on the very spot which witnessed the Savior’s sufferings, a new Jerusalem was constructed, over against the one so celebrated of old, which, since the foul stain of guilt brought on it by the murder of the Lord, had experienced the last extremity of desolation, the effect of Divine judgment on its impious people. It was opposite this city that the emperor now began to rear a monument to the Savior’s victory over death, with rich and lavish magnificence. And it may be that this was that second and new Jerusalem spoken of in the predictions of the prophets, concerning which such abundant testimony is given in the divinely inspired records.16

The emperor instructed Macarius, bishop of Aelia/Jerusalem (314–333), with the aid of the eastern governors, to “adorn with a splendid structure that sacred spot.” The splendid structure comprised a rotunda-shrine over the tomb, another shrine at nearby Calvary, and the great basilica, which Eusebius called the Martyrium. The complex became known as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The church was dedicated in 335. Bishops ascended to Jerusalem, and Constantine received costly gifts from across the empire to enhance the magnificence. The consecration of the new temple, or Great Martyrium, became an annual eight-day celebration in Jerusalem, during which, according to Sozomen, people from every region flocked to the city and many were baptized into the faith.17 According to Eusebius, our best contemporary source, the sanctity of the site was the tomb, hence the point of resurrection. Eusebius says nothing about Helena discovering the True Cross or that the cross was an object of veneration. However, Cyril of Jerusalem, who succeeded Maximus as bishop around 348, wrote in the 340s that “the holy wood of the Cross gives witness: it is here to be seen in this very day, and through those who take [pieces] from it in faith, it has from here already filled almost the whole world.”18 The silence of Eusebius on the discovery of the cross may have been due to his desire to keep Jerusalem from rivaling his own ecclesiastic see of Caesarea, or he thought it a hoax. Nevertheless, it remains plausible that wood identified as the cross was found prior to the construction of the basilica, and it is certain that some wood, thereafter of the True Cross, was venerated in Jerusalem during or soon after the reign of Constantine. From that time onward, the cross became the symbol of victory, whereas prior to that time, with the exception of Constantine’s reputed vision, the cross had been associated with suffering and disgrace.19 This may explain the absence of the venerated cross in early Christian art prior to Constantine. Two generations later, Ambrose mentions Helena’s discovery of the True Cross in his obituary for Theodosius (395). By the early fifth century, the legend was firmly established, and passed on by Turranius Rufinus (ca. 402), that Helena went on her pilgrimage precisely to locate and venerate the sacred place where Jesus hung on the cross. After removing the temple of Venus, they dug up three crosses and a wood plaque with the trilingual inscription of “Jesus king of the Jews.” Because the plaque was detached, Helena was uncertain which cross was the True Cross until the three crosses were brought into contact with a woman who was mortally ill, and while two crosses did nothing, the True Cross was identified in that by its touch, the woman was healed. The nails driven into Jesus were also recovered, and Helena used one or two in a horse’s bridle for Constantine, and another was forged


into a helmet to preserve him in battle. She sent some wood to her son and placed another piece in a silver chest to remain in Jerusalem.20 The traditional cave of the birth of Jesus near Bethlehem was also marked out for a new shrine, the Basilica of the Nativity. The basilica built by Constantine was completed, and it was visited by the Pilgrim of Bordeaux in 333, and although Justinian rebuilt the Church of the Nativity in the sixth century, much of the original building remains, including the mosaic floor. Two other sites were awarded imperial attention and sacred buildings. The grave of Abraham in Hebron had long been a cult center for Jews and others. And nearby lay the village of Mamre, where one could see the ancient oak where Abraham dwelt and where God’s angels visited Abraham beneath the terebinths. Sozomen, in the next century, claims the site of the Oak of Mamre was called Terebinthus, where annually a throng of pilgrims gathered from many lands around Palestine to hold a festival at the sacred place. Arabians, Phoenicians, Jews, and Christians came together. For Jews and Arabs, they came because of their descent from Abraham, while Hellenes came because angels appeared to humankind, and Christians because Jesus had manifested himself to Abraham. Oxen and sheep were slaughtered, wine libations poured out, or, along with a variety of objects, poured into the well of Abraham rendering the water unfit. When Eutropia, the motherin-law of Constantine, visited the place, she was appalled at the mix of popular superstition and complained to the emperor. He censured the bishop of Jerusalem and commanded him, with the other bishops in Palestine, to see that the place was cleansed and that a church should be erected.21 Helena accompanied her son on a tour of the West in 328, and ripe with years, died around 329, probably in Trier. She was buried with great ceremony in Rome, still considered to be the imperial city, in the mausoleum Constantine had likely intended for himself. In 330, Constantine celebrated the inauguration of his capital city, Nova Roma (though even in his lifetime it went by the Greek name Constantinople, “City of Constantine”). Three times the size of the earlier Byzantium, it sheltered major architectural monuments of the Sacred Palace, the Basilica of the Holy Apostles, which was to include his own mausoleum (later replaced by the mosque of Sultan Mehmet II), the Church of the Holy Peace, Saint Irene, which replaced Aphrodite’s temple, and a legislative complex that became the senate. Constantine began the church of Saint Sophia, which his son Constantius II finished in 360. He enlarged and completed the hippodrome begun by Septimius Severus. In the center of an elliptical forum rose a statue of Constantine, the remains of which stand today as the burned pillar. He also embellished the city with many works of art taken from Hellenic temples. The magnificent harbor facilitated trade from all parts of the eastern empire. As with Rome, he initiated a bread dole to attract additional residents, and some 80,000 citizens took advantage, including a number of Jews.22 The emperor commissioned 50 copies of the sacred Christian Scriptures for the churches of Constantinople. The task, to be done by the best scribes on the best vellum, was given to Eusebius of Caesarea. We do not know which books of the New Testament canon were included in the 50 Bibles, but probably the 27


that became the standard. Earlier, Eusebius had explained the general reception of the New Testament. He gave three categories. The “Recognized Books,” accepted by all, were the holy tetrad of the Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, the writings of Paul (probably including Hebrews), the First Letter of John, and the First Letter of Peter, and the Revelation of John (although some disputed it). The second category of “Disputed Books” contained the letters of James, Jude, Second Peter, Second John, and Third John. In a third category of “not genuine” he lists the Acts of Paul, Shepherd of Hermas, Apocalypse of Peter, Letter of Barnabas, Teachings of the Apostles, and for some, the Revelation of John. Eusebius adds, “Some have counted the Gospel according to the Hebrews in which those of the Hebrews who have accepted Christ take a special pleasure.”23 Concerning the canon of the Hebrew Scriptures, Eusebius no doubt included the entirety of the Hebrew canon as we now know it, and possibly other books. Most of the books, as well as many included in the modern Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha lists, had been accepted by the Great Church in an undefined or open way from Jesus onward. The author of Jude (ca. 60–100) accepted a verse from 1 Enoch as a valid prophecy for his own times, apparently equal to any other book of the biblical prophets. The author of 2 Peter (ca. 80–130) referred to the letters of Paul as the equivalent of “other scriptures,” but as far as we know, Melito (ca. 175) is the first one to speak of the “Old Testament (Covenant)” in reference to the books of the Hebrew Scriptures, although Paul had already referred to the Scriptures of the old covenant of Moses read in the synagogues.24 The final years of Constantine were relatively peaceful. He continued to rely on Germans, and even Goths, for his military, and increased the promotion of German officers to the highest commands. Although his remaining sons by Fausta were still young, he set them, and his nephew Delmatius, over portions of the empire, under the oversight of Praetorian prefects.25 Constantine fell ill in 337, and knowing the end was near, he left Constantinople for the palace at Nicomedia. There, Eusebius, the bishop of Nicomedia, administered the sacrament of baptism. He died at a villa outside the city on the day of Pentecost, May 22. His body was removed to Constantinople in a golden coffin and with full military honors entombed in the mausoleum he had constructed on a hill by the Golden Horn. His coffin was laid amid 12 empty sarcophagi of the Twelve Apostles.26 A consecratio ceremony, traditionally an act of deification, was performed, and a coin was struck with a veiled Constantine on one side and a Constantine as charioteer, in a chariot drawn by four horses, with a hand stretching down from heaven, to signify his ascent to heaven. The ambivalent symbols could be interpreted by his Hellene and Christian subjects as each willed. That was the art of government.

19.1.2 Persian Empire The history of Persia is nearly inconsequential during the reign of Constantine. The 7-year rule of Hurmazd II, of which little is known, was followed by the


7-decade rule of Shapur II (309–379). When Hurmazd II died, the princes of Persia judged his son Hurmazd inadequate and imprisoned him. Astrologers predicted that a pregnant wife of Hurmazd would bear a son, and the princes declared the unborn infant Shah-an-shah of Iran and non-Iran.27 When the male infant was born, he was crowned Shapur II and served as figurehead of a regency until age 16. During those early years, 309–325, his regency government struggled and the land suffered. Aware of the weakness of Sasanian central government, the Kushans encroached on the eastern frontier, and Arabs raided the landscape along the Euphrates. One sheik grew bold enough to take Ctesiphon by storm and made off with treasure as well as a member of the ruling family. Around 325, the young Shapur II took control of his administration and methodically reestablished his rule in the south against the Arabs. He devastated the Arab tribes with exceptional cruelty, or so they later recalled, and conquered Arabia as far as Bahrain along the western shores of the Persian Gulf, ensuring his control over the lower Euphrates valley. In the east he likewise smashed the Kushans and annexed their lands into his kingdom. During times of war, the Jews dealt with the movement of troops, which often required billeting soldiers and other forced labor. Again the rabbis ruled on contingencies, such as how to remove the leaven of soldiers before Passover or how to carry the clothes of soldiers to the baths on the sabbath.28

19.2 Christians In this generation, the Christian church in the Roman Empire changed in both essence and form. To the power of religious sanction was added the power of political coercion. In former times, Christian leaders were restricted to anathemas, excommunications, and varieties of social pressure. Now they took hold of the power of kings, to banish, to deprive of life and property, as well as to withhold salvation. Among those who were willing to die for Christ were also those willing to kill for Christ. The end of persecution against all Christian beliefs opened the way for the exercise of political power to enforce a single Christian belief. The Christian emperor also opened the floodgates to conversions of advantage rather than of conscience. Since the early decades of Christianity, members from the entire economic and social spectrum, from slaves to the very wealthy and even of the ruling class, were found in the churches. The Christian church, from an imperial point of view, was a unified cross-section of the empire, and in its ideals, a model for the empire. Christians were thick in Egypt. Already around 240, at council at Lambaesis in Egypt, 90 bishops attended representing an unknown, but significant, number of Christians. Across North Africa, they were well established and fierce, and many bore Punic or Berber names. The province of Numidia in western North Africa now had at least 70 bishops. In distant southern Spain, a council of bishops had convened between 306 and 310 at Elvira (near Granada) to regulate the conduct of the growing clergy and represent a number of Christian communities in the


peninsula. In Gaul, Christians had spread from Lyons north to the cities of Reims and Trier, each with a bishop watching over numerous village communities. There is no certain evidence of Christian communities in Britain, though there must have been scattered groups of Christians in London and other cities, very small minorities. Italy had many Christian communities, and in Rome they remained a polyglot and community of migrants. The Balkans had few Christians; Greece more. Christians were most populous in Asia Minor, Syria, and Palestine. In the Persian realm, Christians remained a restricted and often oppressed minority. According to the Onomasticon of Eusebius, at the start of the fourth century Christians dwelt in the following urban centers of Palestine: Diospolis-Lydda, Joppa, Azotus, Sebaste, Scythopolis (Beth-Shean), Maximianupolis-Legio, Gadara, Gedora, Jamnia, Nicopolis-Emmaus, Ascalon, the port of Gaza, Eleutheropolis, and Jericho. He notes only three villages that were predominantly Christian, one on the east Jordan and two in the south. As best we can tell, there were few if any Christians living in the main Jewish cities, such as Sepphoris and Tiberias. The lists of bishops who attended the Council of Nicaea give a valuable, if skewed, distribution of Christian communities. Eusebius says the number of bishops exceeded 250.29 Other lists later raise the number to 300, and the legendary official number of bishops was set at 318, the number of servants in the household of Abraham: “the creed approved of at Nicaea by 318 Orthodox Bishops; which contains the perfect truth, and both confutes and overthrows the whole swarm of heretics.”30 Of the lists preserved, 100 bishops came from Asia Minor, 50 from Palestine and Syria, 20 from Egypt, and from western provinces 6 bishops came, one each from Cordova, Carthage, Sardica, Calabria, Pannonia, and Gaul. Silvester, the bishop of Rome, sent 2 delegates on his behalf.31

19.2.1 Tolerance under Constantine Tolerance for Christianity across the empire met a different response among Christians. Those rigorists, particularly in North Africa, who had defined their faith in opposition to the rulers of this world were loath to now come under the authority of their former enemy. The virtue of martyrdom gave way to the virtue of ascetic suffering in caves and monasteries. Throngs followed the aging Anthony into the desert. But Christians who had enjoyed the basic stability of Roman government, divinely ordained, and saw the sporadic persecutions as an evil aberration, welcomed the emperor who had been given authority by God to rule. The theology of Arius had taken a blow, but not a mortal one. Indeed, the contest had only begun. Here and there, bishops withdrew their signatures from the Nicene Creed, and Constantine began to have misgivings about the Nicene settlement. By 328, he switched sides. His motivations are not known, but the Nicene Creed had not brought the desired theology for a unified empire. And perhaps he found that he rather liked Arius’s theology of a divine hierarchy, which suited his vision of divine rule: one God ruling through one emperor over one empire. He was also aware that Arius was widely supported in the East. Eusebius of Nicomedia was soon restored to his see and became a leader for the restitution of Arius.


In 328, Athanasius succeeded Alexander as the bishop of Alexandria. Born around 296 in Alexandria and given a classical education in that city, he became the champion of Nicene theology, the leader of the opposition to Arianism. Athanasius laid out his position in two volumes, Against the Arians and On the Incarnation. In them he defended the idea of “conbsubstantiality,” absent in Scripture though it may be, as the only human concept that does justice to the mystery laid out in the Word that became flesh and to the Great Commission of Jesus to go into the world and “preach to all nations in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Gifted though Athanasius was, his sometimes violent efforts to intimidate opponents swelled their ranks among Eastern bishops. Arius gained an audience with Constantine in 332 and persuaded the emperor that he had retracted the views anathematized at Nicaea. Constantine ordered Arius restored to his presbyter’s chair in Alexandria, but Athanasius refused. The Arians called a council in Tyre in 335, and Athanasius led a delegation of Egyptian bishops to defend himself against false accusations. Because the delegation had not been invited, his supporters were not admitted. The council deposed Athanasius in absentia. Constantine then summoned the bishops to Jerusalem for the dedication of Holy Sepulcher. He presented them with a creed written by Arius and asked them to confirm it. The restored Arius died in 336 before he returned to Alexandria. That year, Constantine met with Athanasius but confirmed the verdict of the council at Tyre and banished him to his first exile in Trier of Gallica Belgica (northwest Germany). The emperor went to the grave with no settlement in sight, and on his deathbed he was baptized by the first bishop to have withdrawn his name from Constantine’s Council of Nicaea, Eusebius of Nicomedia, leader of the Arian Christians.

19.2.2 Eusebius and the Library of Caesarea The most prominent Christian man of letters during the reign of Constantine was Eusebius (ca. 260–ca. 340), the bishop of Caesarea, apologist, historian, geographer, pastor, and exegete. His successor, Acacius, wrote a biography of Eusebius, but it has not survived, and his life must be pieced together from the fragments of other authors. To distinguish him from a host of other Eusebiuses—some 40 men by that name among his contemporaries are known—he was commonly referred to as Eusebius of Caesarea according to his residence, or Eusebius of Pamphilus (Eusebius Pamphili), in honor of his mentor. Eusebius may have been a Palestinian or a Phoenician and likely was born in Caesarea. He had a good education, secular as well as Christian, and was apprenticed to Pamphilus of Caesarea, who had been a pupil of Origen. Between 307 and 309, Eusebius may have fled to Egypt, where he may have been imprisoned but was either released or escaped. He was later accused of compromising his faith to survive. By 315, he reappears as the bishop of Caesarea during a consecration of the church at Tyre. He was active in the Council of Nicaea and remained involved in other councils and the ongoing theological disputes.


Eusebius devoted himself to scholarly pursuit and did for his faith and generation what Josephus had done for his: he labored to establish the antiquity of Christianity. Just as Josephus had been prompted by the Jew-hater Apion to write his defense of Judaism, so Eusebius was spurred on by the impact of Porphyry’s book Against the Christians, and he would later write a tract Against Porphyry. But he began his work by producing a Chronicle of Hebrew and Gentile history since Abraham. He then wrote his first edition of Ecclesiastical History around 314. Between the years 314 and 323, Eusebius surveyed a vast amount of literature available in the library of Caesarea and compiled two volumes: Preparation for the Gospel (Praeparatio Evangelica), in which he explains why the Hebrew traditions rather than the Greek traditions prepared the way for Christ, and Demonstration of the Gospel (Demonstratio Evangelica), in which he established Christianity from the Hebrew Bible. Both of these works demonstrate the great importance Christians had placed on their Jewish roots from the beginning. Although Demonstration is only partially preserved, Preparation is intact and provides quotations from many ancient works that are now lost. Eusebius issued his final edition of Ecclesiastical History, containing the 10 volumes extant, around 326, and this became the most famous and widely used of his works, which earned him the title “Father of Church History.”32 He also produced an Onomasticon of the biblical sites as known in his day, and a variety of other works, some of which are lost. He corroborated with Pamphilius on the Life of Origen (lost) and finished it for his master after his martyrdom. He wrote commentaries, most of which have not survived. It is estimated that half of his literary output is no longer extant, but his Commentary on the Psalms survived, and Commentary on Isaiah was rediscovered in modern times. In 336, he delivered the Tricennial Oration on the thirtieth anniversary of Constantine’s accession. Eusebius did not long survive his emperor, but during his last years he wrote The Life of Constantine, a panegyric worthy of an imperial bard, though far too flattering of Constantine to merit the modern designation of biography. The library at Caesarea, through the good efforts of Origen, Pamphilius, and Eusebius, became the great repository of literary works of antiquity to have survived. These included many writings of Jewish authors, Aristeas, Aristobulus, Josephus, Philo, and a host of titles that now comprise the Jewish Pseudepigrapha. Perhaps most intriguing of all is Eusebius’s citation of the famous passage about Jesus in the Jewish Antiquities of Josephus, in which he states, “This [Jesus] was the Christ.” Because Origen had earlier said plainly that Josephus never acknowledged Jesus as Christ, modern critics suspect Eusebius was the scribe who altered the text of Josephus. But the alteration may equally have occurred before or after Eusebius.33

19.2.3 Christians in the East As the peace of Constantine settled in the West in the fourth century, we find Christian leaders in the East entering the historical record. The Armenians had adopted the official Zoroastrian pantheon along with Persian culture centuries before,


and a favorite was the goddess of fertility, Anahit, who served as the protector of the people and land. In the capital of Persia, Seleucia-Ctesiphon, a certain bishop, Papa bar Aggai (Haggai), presided over a community of Christians that had existed for at least a century. According to legend, Papa was ordained by the missionary Mari, a disciple of the legendary Addai, none of which may be verified. Papa may have been ordained around 280, but during the peace of Constantine, in 315, he attempted to unite the other bishops in Persia, as many as 20, under his metropolitan authority. The bishops did not accept him as their head bishop, so he turned to the bishops of the west, in particular Sada, bishop of Edessa, for support, and according to the Chronicle of Arbela, the Western bishops recognized his authority. Papa was followed in 329 by Simeon bar Sabba’e (329–341).34 Armenia was probably exposed to Christians from Edessa during the late second or early third century. Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria (248–265), wrote a letter to the Armenian Christians, addressing a bishop called Meruzanes.35 This church suffered under the invasions of Shapur I, when many Christians were deported, but others no doubt remained and met secretly. But around 314, Gregory the Illuminator (ca. 240–332), known as the Apostle of Armenia, converted king Tiridates III to Christianity. According to legend, some of which probably contains historical facts, Gregory was descended from Armenian nobility but had been exiled as an infant to Cappadocia, where he was raised a Christian. When Tiridates III had retaken the throne in 301, Gregory returned to Armenia. Tiridates, who paid court to the Ahura Mazda, persecuted him and threw the Christian missionary into the deep pit. Gregory languished in the pit for 15 years, sustained by a pious widow. During this time, many Christians in Armenia were persecuted, tortured, and killed. But then the king fell ill, perhaps mentally, such that he was said to be demon-possessed and changed into the likeness of a wild boar. A dream revealed that only Gregory could heal him. Gregory healed the king, and Tiridates promptly became a Christian. The traditional religion and festivals persisted for a while, but Christianity was forced upon the people, and the great temple of Anahit in Vagharshapat was transformed into a Christian church, as Armenia became the first officially Christian country.36 Gregory was thereafter ordained bishop (catholicos) of Armenia by the bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia and spent the remainder of his life establishing churches and converting the nation to Christianity. Gregory’s son, Aristakes, attended the Council of Nicea and succeeded his father as catholicos. The formal adoption of Christianity by Tiridates gradually brought the Armenians into the hegemony of the Christian Roman Empire. This newly formed Christian buffer state was destined to affect relations between the Roman Empire and Sasanian Persia until the advent of Islam.

19.3 Jews 19.3.1 Jews of Palestine The Jews of Palestine and the western Diaspora fared well enough under the first Christian emperor. He added no new burdens, although a revival of old laws


that had fallen into disuse might have been seen as new burdens. Constantine issued his first law directed to the Jews dated December 11, 320. The law “Nomination of the Jews to the Curias” permitted (that is, required) Jews to participate in local government, the assembly or senate, and share the municipal burdens. In the past, Jews were exempted from the office of decurion because the ritual invocation of the gods was idolatrous for Jews, but now that all such rituals had been removed, there was no reason for Jews to abstain. It was a privilege most Jews had happily foregone, since it carried heavy financial responsibilities, and Constantine allowed two or three exemptions in each curia in order to soften the blow of the financial burden Jews had now to share. Constantine also lowered the minimum age of members from 25 to 18 in his effort to replenish the local administrations throughout the empire. He was simply following the lead of Diocletian to prevent the wealthy class eligible for public service from evading their civic responsibilities. Clergy, however, remained exempt, and the rabbis, like bishops and monks, zealously guarded their privileged status. We learn from a later source, Eutychus of Alexandria, that Constantine revived the prohibition, initiated by Hadrian, against Jews entering Jerusalem. Over the centuries, Jews, including prominent rabbis, visited the city, and small groups of Jews had even settled in Jerusalem.37 Constantine did, however, inaugurate the practice of opening up the city once a year on the ninth of Av for Jews to enter and wail at the western wall. The Bordeaux Pilgrim who visited Jerusalem in 333 already mentions the practice: “There are two statues of Hadrian, and not far from the statues there is a perforated stone, to which the Jews come every year and anoint it, bewail themselves with groans, rend their garments, and so depart.”38 The “perforated stone” was located on the temple mount and is undoubtedly the rock now protected beneath the Dome of the Rock. In the next generations, Jerome will remark on the vagabond Jewish pilgrims who come in their rags to bewail the temple once a year. The patriarch during most of the reign of Constantine was Hillel II (ca. 320– 365). Rabbinic tradition preserves little of his long patriarchate, and what little we know occurs in the post-Constantine generation. It is assumed he was accepted by the people and by the Roman government, but that the rabbis had little good to remember of him. He endured, at least, the initial rhetoric from Constantine against the Jews, initiated without doubt by the newly empowered Christian clergy. Constantine’s bark was more vicious than his bite. The emperor lent his signature to statements endorsing the unity of the Christian church in language drafted by clergymen. For example, concerning the celebration of Dominical Pascha issued at the Council of Nicea, he wrote: And first of all, it appeared an unworthy thing that in the celebration of this most holy feast we should follow the practice of the Jews, who have impiously defiled their hands with enormous sin, and are, therefore, deservedly afflicted with blindness of soul. For we have it in our power, if we abandon their custom, to prolong the due observance of this ordinance to future ages, by a truer order, which we have preserved from the very day of the passion until the present time. Let us then have nothing in common with the detestable Jewish crowd; for we have received from our Savior a different way. A course at once legitimate and honorable lies open to our most holy religion.39


To many Jews and Christians the rise of a persecuted minority to the pinnacle of power within a single generation could only be described as providential. Success was a powerful argument, and Jewish conversions increased. Christians were emboldened, and Jews were on the defensive. Rabbi Nahman, referring to Rabbi Iddi, a scholar of an earlier generation who was well-known for his ability to answer Christians, counseled, “He who knows to reply to the heretics as well as could Rabbi Iddi, should do so; if not, he should not reply.”40 Some Jews who converted to Christianity were subsequently punished by the Jewish community, and in 329, Constantine issued a law protecting Jewish converts to Christianity, but it is significant that he also renewed a prohibition against conversion to Judaism. The law is exceptional for its anti-Jewish tone and may have been drafted by the same choleric cleric who wrote the speech of Constantine on the date of the Dominical Pascha. We want the Jews, their principals and their patriarchs informed, that if anyone—once this law has been given—dare attack by stoning or by other kind of fury one escaping from their deadly sect and raising his eyes to God’s cult, which as we have learned is being done now, he shall be delivered immediately to the flames and burnt with all his associates. But if one of the people shall approach their nefarious sect and join himself to their conventicles, he shall suffer with them the deserved punishments.41

Conversion was now a one-way street. Jews coming to the church were protected, but the rest of the population, whether Christian or Hellene, were forbidden from joining the nefarious sect of the Jews, a prohibition that had been initiated by Hadrian two centuries earlier but had neither been obeyed nor strictly enforced. The issue would not go away. Judaism, with its ancient claims and its biblical practices, would remain attractive to Christians and Hellenes, and the laws against proselytism would be reissued from generation to generation. In 335, Constantine issued one more law, again dealing with Jewish converts to Christianity and renewing an older prohibition against the circumcision of slaves, whether Hellene or Christian, owned by Jews, which often meant a conversion to Judaism. Constantine was, however, a sovereign first and a Christian second. He was able to satisfy the zealous clergy by the vehemence of laws governing religion, but he never lost sight of his prime objective to stabilize the empire. The following year, he issued laws confirming the privileges of the Jewish clergy to be free from all public liturgies, that is, public duties at their own expense, such as required of decurions, and included the transportation of military provisions or state-owned goods. The rabbinic term for this, noted earlier, was the angaria duty. Those who dedicated themselves with complete devotion to the synagogues of the Jews, to the patriarchs or to the Presbyters, and while living in the abovementioned sect, it is they who preside over the law, shall continue to be exempt from all liturgies, personal as well as civil. . . . We order that the priests, archsynagogues, fathers of synagogues, and the others who serve in synagogues shall be free from all corporal liturgy.42

The law confirmed two important principles for the Jews. The law placed all Jewish clergy within the protection of the imperial system, essentially equal to Hellenic and Christian clergy. The law also placed the privileges of the clergy under


the authority of the patriarch, thereby giving him the status of head of all Jewish communities, similar to an archbishop. The designations of the clergy, priests (archsynagogues), follow the general Greek usages for synagogue officials, and the presbyters are probably the elders of city councils. This was a boon to the patriarchate that even Judah I had not known. It is difficult to assess the extent to which rabbis were affected by the imperial recognition. The social network of the rabbinic movement was undoubtedly more widespread than may be gathered from the Talmudic traditions about the most prominent rabbis. We do not know how many unnamed sages identified themselves with the leading lights, but we know from occasional references, and the collective designations of the men of Tiberias, or of Sepphoris, or those of the South, that other rabbis were out there. Recent studies of the past two decades have tended to agree that the rabbinic movement was largely a social network, one with insular, or provincial, concerns. Because of their insularity they were able to establish an identity and their key concept of oral Torah over the early generations. The extent of their influence on the rest of Palestinian society remains a point of discussion and dispute, but their cohesion as a social network had likely been accomplished by the second century, and certainly in the third.43 They were ready to emerge or be recognized in the fourth century as counterparts to the newly recognized Christian clergy. We should see them, however, as one group within a wider swathe of Jewish intellectuals, who were themselves the Palestinian counterparts of the western Diaspora where the rabbinic movement had not penetrated. The rabbinic movement did not constitute the whole of the Jewish intelligentsia within Palestine. Any analogy with our day would be a loose analogy, but the insular Jewish movement of Mea Shearim might serve. Many in Israel see the rabbis and disciples of Mea Shearim as “the guardians of the faith” no matter how much they may be despised by other Israelis. At the very least, the modern spectrum of Jews serves as analogy to the spectrum in antiquity, a diversity we saw more clearly during the first century, but one that undoubtedly continued into the Middle Ages when Islamic rule recognized the rabbis of Babylonia as the natural leaders of the People of the Book.

19.3.2 Jews of Persia The Jews suffered some persecution during the minority years of Shapur II (309–325), under the unsteady rule of his regents, but thereafter they were left alone. The circle of disciples begun by Judah b. Ezekiel at Pumbedita was sustained by others and may have reached a high point during this generation. Rabbah bar Nahmani ( fl. 290–330), usually known simply as Rabbah, succeeded Rav Huna bar Hiyya as the leading rabbi of Pumbedita. He and his family lived life in poverty, and though he was a respected scholar, he was not popular with the people because of his severe criticism of their lifestyles. Lifestyle morality aside, it came about that he helped scholars evade their taxes by bringing them to his lectures during 2 kallah months, in summer and winter (either Nisan and Tishri or Adar and Elul). Tax authorities came after him, and he was forced to live


in hiding toward the end of his life, which ended wretchedly as a fugitive.44 Rabba’s exercise of the sharp dialectic of Pumbedita earned him the epithet “uprooter of mountains” in that he wrenched verses from their context to reach new conclusions. Rav Joseph bar Hiyya (d. 333), known simply as Rabbi Joseph, was a colleague and successor of Rabbah b. Nahmani. He was known for his vast knowledge of traditional law and for this was given the epithet “Sinai.” Tradition says the sages of Palestine thought Rabbi Joseph was superior to Rabbah because the law must first be known before it can be debated.45 Rabbah and Rabbi Joseph are cited together often in the Babylonian Talmud. Abaye (d. 339), took the leadership of Pumbedita after Joseph. Given the name Nahmani at birth, he was orphaned in his youth and adopted by his uncle, Rabbah b. Nahmani, who called him Abaye (“Little Father”) to distinguish him from his grandfather. Abaye studied at Pumbedita and later advanced the dialectic method in discussions with his colleagues. He was also among the early rabbis to distinguish clearly between the plain meaning of the biblical text and the interpretation (midrash) that could be drawn from it. Using Ps 62:12 as a proof text, “God hath spoken once; twice have I heard this; that power belongs unto God,” he laid down the exegetical rule “One Biblical verse may convey several teachings, but a single teaching cannot be deduced from different Scriptural verses.”46 Abaye was attentive to his foster mother, for he passed along her wisdom, recipes, and cures, including magic and incantations. For example, he would say, “Mother told me, All incantations which are repeated several times must contain the name of the patient’s mother, and all knots used for healing must be tied on the left [hand].”47 Rava bar Joseph b. Hama (ca. 280–352) belongs more to the next generation, but he was a principal colleague of Abaye, and his years of influence begin here. Rava excelled in the dialectic method and gained a reputation as a more logical disputant than Abaye. Under Abaye and Rava, dialectics in rabbinic debate reached its peak, and the Talmud is filled with their debates, which were remembered as the example par excellence of “small matters.”48 Like Hillel and Shammai of old, Rava’s view was generally followed, such that the times Abaye was followed deserved special note. When Abaye was elected head of the Pumbeditha school in 333, Rava withdrew to Mahoza, his home city on the Tigris south of Ctesiphon, and many students followed him there. Aha bar Jacob was a senior contemporary of Abaye and Rava. Like many a monastic scholar of this age, Aha devoted himself to study so intensely that it undermined his health. It was said of him that what time in the day he “borrowed” for labor, he would “repay” at night by study at the cost of sleep.49 And he was not alone. Though he recovered, many of his colleagues, he noted, were constantly suffering some illness. He had a reputation for skill as a miracle worker and exorcist of demons. During these years of disintegration, rabbis ruled that Jews near the dangerous frontier were permitted to carry weapons on the sabbath. They also dealt with the seizure of lands by Arabs and the ransom of captives. According to a late rabbinic tradition, in 313 the Persians decreed a persecution of the Jews, but history has left us no trace. If some persecution did occur, it came while Shapur II was still in his minority, at the hands of his regents.50

Chapter 20

Julian the Apostate: A Dilemma for Christians and Jews (337–364 c.e.)

20.1 Rome and Persia 20.1.1 Roman Empire Constantine had set his Christian sons by Fausta to rule over portions of his empire, but by some mysterious turn of hand, he left the rites of succession to God or Fate. Constantius II, age 17, ruled the East, without clear jurisdiction over Constantinople. The youngest, Constans, 14, governed Italy, while the eldest, Constantine II, ruled Gaul, Britain, and Spain, and their cousin Dalmatius governed the Balkans along the Danube. The first act of cooperation among the sons of Fausta was to eliminate all challenges to their rule, including the cousins Hannibalianus and Dalmatius. Our tendentious sources do not allow the certainty of who authorized what. According to one source, the army took on the responsibility of cleansing the royal lineage because they would accept no ruler but a son of Constantine. Most sources lay the blame on Constantius II. Among the kinsmen slain was Constantine’s half-brother, Julius Constantius (by Theodora), but his two sons and potential heirs escaped the slaughter, Gallus (age 12) and Julian (age 6). 20.1.1.1 Heirs of Constantine The heirs of Constantine the Great are a cause for confusion in our history, second only to Herod the Great. Essentially, they are as follows: Constantine I, by his first wife Minervina, produced Crispus; by Fausta (second wife and official queen), he produced Constantine II (337–340), Constantius II (337–361), Constans (337– 350), and the daughters Constantina and Helena. The half-brother of Constantine I, Julius Constantius (by Theodora, second wife and official queen of Constantius I), produced Gallus and Julian (361–363) by his first and second wives.51 While Constans was away along the Danube, Constantine II invaded his brother’s territory in Italy. Constans returned with an army and slew his brother at Aquileia. He then took possession of the West, and for the next decade, the empire was ruled by the two sons, Constantius in the East, Constans in the West. As it


happened, Constans was a staunch supporter of the Nicene Creed, hence Western orthodoxy, while Constantius favored the Arian view, which retained a strong following in the East. During his final years, Constantine I had prepared for war against Persia, and now his son Constantius II took up that campaign against Shapur II, who was eager to revive the glory of his ancestors and avenge their loss of territory to Rome. Over the decade of the 340s, Shapur invaded Roman Mesopotamia almost annually, and Constantius II responded with a series of bloody and inconclusive campaigns. Between 350 and 357, Shapur broke off his attacks in order to repel an invasion of the Huns, and Constantius turned his attention to troubles in Gaul. On January 18, 350, a German general, Magnentius, engineered a coup d’état at Autun, Gaul, and executed Constans. Shortly after, another general, Vetranio, was proclaimed emperor in Pannonia. Constantius responded by taking his cousin Gallus as Caesar; then he advanced against both usurpers. Vetranio negotiated his safe abdication, and after 2 years of battles, Magnentius was defeated in Gaul. Constantius was left the sole ruler of his father’s empire. Meanwhile, in late 351 or early 352, a minor Jewish uprising occurred in Palestine under the leadership of a certain Patricius.52 The uprising centered at Diocaesarea (Sepphoris) and may have spread to a few other cities and villages but was crushed by Gallus or perhaps Ursicinus, the commander of Roman forces in the East. Both the cause and extent of the revolt are unclear, but it testifies to sufficient Jewish discontent in northern Palestine to attempt an uprising after more than two centuries of peaceful submission to Roman rule. Much of the blame may be laid at the malfeasance of Gallus, for when Constantius returned to the East, he found Gallus accused of incompetence, or possibly tyranny, and had him tried and executed. This left Constantius bereft of an heir, except for the young Julian. After the massacre of his family in 337, Julian was placed in the care of the Arian bishop Eusebius of Nicomedia and raised accordingly. Upon the death of the bishop in 342, Julian was sequestered at an imperial estate in Cappadocia (east Asia Minor), where he studied theology and the classics under the care of the eunuch Mardonius. Although he feigned devotion to Christianity, he was enamored more of philosophy. His view of Christianity was surely tainted by the deaths of his parents at the hands of “Christians” and the interminable theological conflicts between bishops. In 351, after Gallus was made Caesar, Julian was permitted to leave Cappadocia, and he took up residence in Nicomedia, where he became a devotee of Neoplatonism under the influence of Maximus of Ephesus. He would later admit that at age twenty he converted from his inherited Christianity back to the old religion, particularly the practice of theurgy, a form of beneficent magic and rituals popular with Neoplatonists that help purify the soul and force the gods to do good things. For the next decade, however, he kept his conversion largely private. In 355, Julian briefly studied in Athens, and in the footsteps of previous emperors like Marcus Aurelius he was initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries. He also befriended a fellow student, Gregory of Nazianzus, who was to become his theological opponent. Later in 355, Constantius presented Julian as Caesar to the army, his sole and legitimate heir.

Julian the Apostate: A Dilemma for Christians and Jews 475

Julian was immediately given the charge of pacifying Gaul. He demonstrated his military prowess, or as some say, that of his officers, by subjugating the Franks and the rising Alemanni and reorganizing the administration of Gaul. The contrast between Julian and Constantius was soon apparent to much of the army. By 360, Constantius, perhaps jealous of Julian’s successes, demanded Julian send him some premier troops to aid in the war against Persia. The troops, however, no doubt encouraged by Julian, refused to go, and having mutinied, they proclaimed Julian Augustus in Paris in February of 360. Constantius was too engaged with the threat of Persia to respond, except by diplomacy. The following year, Julian invaded the Balkans. By then Constantius was able to return and engage Julian, but during the march he died of fever at age 44. All the Roman armies acclaimed Julian emperor. 20.1.1.2 Julian the Apostate Flavius Claudius Julianus remains one of the more intriguing what-mighthave-been emperors of antiquity, and the best documented of the fourth century. The imperial throne freed him from his sham adherence to the Christian faith, and he became the only emperor to profess the traditional Greco-Roman “pagan” religion after Constantine. Julian may be forgiven his skepticism over the Christian charity exercised by the sons of Constantine who killed his father, Julius Constantius, with the approval of Christian clergy, before engaging themselves in fratricide. If the moral legacy of Constantine was no worse than that of Caesar Augustus and the many emperors who followed, neither was it visibly superior, and Julian looked back nostalgically to his rosy vision of a more noble past. Though he did not persecute Christians or attempt to dismantle the Christian church, he grew progressively hostile to them and recalled all the bishops banished by his predecessors in the hopes that dissident bishops would again sow their dissension and weaken the church. The imperial grants that had gone to bishops and churches now went to Hellene priests and their temples. He ordered all imperial schools to resume a traditional, that is, classical Hellene, education, which in effect was pagan to Christians and excluded them from the educational system. Julian exercised his disdain for Christians by calling them Galileans, a term meant to emphasize their insignificant station in life. While on his Persian campaign, he wrote a work entitled Contra Galilaeos (“Against the Galileans”).53 The main thrust of Julian’s disputation follows in the tradition of Apion against the Jews and Celsus and Porphyry against the Christians. However parochial Judaism may be, Julian thought Christianity inferior still. He pointed out that the religion based on Jesus was a mere 300 years old, a novelty that could hardly pretend to be the worship of the highest god. Veritas antiqua est (“what is ancient is true”) remained the standard of judgment. What about the history of the world before Jesus? Even if the philosophers are right in supposing a highest god, he is nameless, and delegates authority to lesser gods who rule the nations. Each nation has always been ruled by its god, and this accounts for the differences of nations and their worship. In any case, Christians pretend to follow the ancient religion of Moses yet ignore most of the laws of Moses, including the important rituals of circumcision and sacrifice,


claiming instead that circumcision of the heart and that Christ is their Passover sacrifice. All novelty. The New Testament is unimpressive. Paul is a charlatan, and Matthew and Luke do not agree on the genealogy of Jesus.54 For all his scorn cast upon Christian doctrine, Julian admired the Christian organization and hierarchy. He attempted to revive Roman traditions in a coherent theology and fashion a pan-Hellenic religion on the successful model of Christianity. He invoked the Sun god in much the way Constantine had done. He set up high priests responsible for oversight of regions and local Greco-Roman shrines, much like the bishop and his see. He also attempted to set up charitable organizations to rival the Christian ones. His dogmatic enthusiasm, even fanaticism, was very Christian in tone and quite foreign to the non-dogmatic Hellenes who preferred to be left alone in their quiet reverence for traditional religion. Julian criticized certain Hellene beliefs as, in a sense, unorthodox, and expressed dismay at the general apathy of the Hellenes. The most daring, and interesting, of Julian’s reforms was his decree to rebuild the temple of the Jews in Jerusalem. The move was certainly part of his campaign to undermine the Christian contingent of his empire, as well as toleration for all religions, but it served his political ambitions far more. His campaign against Persia needed as much support from the widespread, and presently hostile, Jewish population as possible. The lesson of the Jewish woes thrust upon Trajan, the last emperor to engage Persia in its heartland, was not lost on Julian. Julian’s energy for a Hellenistic revival culminated in his imitation of Alexander the Great. Emboldened by his success in Gaul, and against the advice of many counselors, he launched his campaign to conquer Persia in a bid for the title Parthicus. In the spring of 363, he left Antioch with an army of some 90,000. He split his forces, sending one group down the Tigris while he marched down the Euphrates, intending to join up at the capital Ctesiphon. Julian defeated the Persians on his march, though some garrisons simply submitted with a promise to come over to him when he defeated the king. He did not realize his advance was too easy. Shapur had chosen to draw Julian deep into the Persian heartland. When Julian crossed the Euphrates, he burned his boats behind him, both to travel lighter and to impel his soldiers onward, but his other army did not arrive in time, and Julian was forced to retreat up the Tigris. The Persians had left a scorched earth, and his troops languished under the constant Persian strikes. Finally, in reckless Alexandrian enthusiasm, Julian left behind his breastplate on a sortie and was wounded by a spear thrown “no one knows whence.”55 He died the following evening, June 26, age 31. Some said he died in discourse with Socrates on the immortality of the soul. Christians later claimed he died with the words Vicisti Galilaee, “You have conquered, Galilean!”56 Others said it was a Christian who threw the spear that killed him, and Christians replied that if it were so, the man had done God’s work. But the early testimony points to an Arab in the service of the Persians as the king slayer. The death of Julian hardly improved the dire straits of the retreating Roman army. The senior officers chose Jovian, a moderate Christian officer of the imperial bodyguard and a relative of Constantius.57 To him was given the responsibility of saving the army, which he was able to do only by surrendering considerable


territories of Mesopotamia, including the unconquered city of Nisibis, and much of Armenia. A century and a half of Roman victories were lost by a single ill-conceived campaign of Julian, and the eastern frontier of the Roman Empire once again ended at the Euphrates. Little else is known of Jovian. The humiliation of his retreat would have made his rule difficult, but he did not live to see it. Eight months after taking the leadership, he died on the border of Bithynia and Galatia, smothered, said the historian Ammianus Marcellinus, by the fumes of a charcoal brazier.

20.1.2 Persian Empire Shapur’s brilliant victory over Julian and the subsequent peace treaty removed the stigma of his previous 25 lackluster years of campaigning in Mesopotamia and Armenia. After the death of Constantine and the partition of the empire among his far weaker sons, Shapur II had revived Persian efforts to regain their lost buffer kingdoms. His goal remained control of Armenia, but the city of Nisibis stood in his way. Over the next decade he laid siege to Nisibis three times, in 338, 346, and 348, without success. Christian records recall the great heroism with which they withstood the attacks. In 350, Shapur led a large army that included allies from India and their elephants. This time he attempted to drown the city, or at least undermine the walls by a flood. He built a partial damn along the Mygdonius River and flooded the area. He built boats and set his siege engines on them to defend sappers who dug at the base of the walls. Eventually the water caused a portion of the wall to sink, and the Persia forces rushed in. But they soon found themselves bogged down, elephants and horses struggling in the mud, and Shapur called a retreat. The next morning the wall had been rebuilt sufficiently that the Persians gave up and departed. He then broke off his attempts and marched east to face a new enemy, one of the groups of Huns who were encroaching across the Oxus River. After a 5-year campaign, he returned to his western frontier, fortified by his newly acquired auxiliaries from the defeated Huns. He achieved a genuine victory by capturing the city of Amida on the upper Tigris, and then he reaped the benefits of Julian’s defeat, bargained away by the hapless Jovian. With the swipe of the pen, Shapur regained all that his ancestors had lost and revived the empire of Ardashir, as well as control of Armenia and the city of Nisibis. Prior to the surrender of Nisibis, the Christians fled back into Roman territory. Shapur II now had a free hand in Armenia. Arshak II, the Roman-backed king, was brought to Persia, where he was tortured and executed. Armenia then became a Persian province. According to ancient Armenian historians (Faustos Buzandats‘i and Moses Khorenats‘i), Shapur ordered a massive deportation of Armenians, in which thousands of Jewish and Christian families were taken from Armenia and brought elsewhere into the Persian Empire. The veracity of this tradition has been questioned, but deportations were standard practice in Persia, so that it is likely a significant redistribution of the population of Armenia occurred. The purpose of the deportation was strictly political and economic, not part of the religious oppression against Christians in Persia. Shapur intended to weaken the buffer state of


Rome and strengthen his own land. People were the economic vitality of the empire. Among the deported families from two cities was a certain Zuit‘ay, a Christian priest of Artashat. Zuit‘ay urged the people not to abandon their Christian faith, and some time later, Zuit‘ay was ordered to cease his efforts to sustain the people in their Christian faith. When he refused, he was tortured and martyred. Less certain, but not incredible, is the claim of Khorenats‘i that the flock of Zuit‘ay were Jews who had converted to Christianity from the days of Gregory the Illuminator.58 Perhaps in response to the christianization of the Roman Empire, Shapur revived the efforts of his predecessors to unify Persia under the banner of Mazdeanism. Under his rule, church and state were united, though the Mazdean clergy retained their independent structure, mirroring the emerging structure of Christianity in the Roman East. In order to fund his military campaigns against Christian Rome, Shapur II levied a double head tax on Christians in his domain. Many Christians refused to pay, especially the monks who had no money, and persecutions began, as recorded in the Syrian Acts of the Martyrs.59

20.2 Christians 20.2.1 Constantius and the Arian Conflict The theological debate between Arians and Catholics entered into its middle phase during the reign of Constantius II (337–361), more intense, more complex, or simply deeper into the divine labyrinth. While Constans (337–350) ruled the West, the debate engaged the emperors nearly to the point of civil war. The fate of Athanasius—champion to the Catholics but obnoxious archheretic to the Arians—was the central political figure. Athanasius had returned to Alexandria after the death of Constantine. The West wanted him reinstated; the East refused. Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, was translated to bishop of Constantinople, where he could guide the Arian resistance to Athanasius and influence Constantius. In 339, he called a council in Antioch that deposed Athanasius again and prepared to replace him with Gregory of Cappadocia. The change was enforced by soldiers who put down the anticipated revolt by the Egyptian supporters of Athanasius, and Athanasius went into voluntary exile in Rome. Bishop Julius welcomed Athanasius, along with a growing coterie of exiled bishops, and Rome took their side in the dispute. The brother emperors called a council at Sardica (also Serdica, modern Sofia, Bulgaria) in 343 to settle the question of the orthodoxy of Athanasius. It was supposed to be an ecumenical council, a step toward the long-sought unification of Christianity, but when the Eastern bishops learned that Athanasius would attend as a member of the Western synod, they refused to share the same roof since it appeared the cart was before the horse. The two sides held their sessions separately. The Western bishops and those of Egypt were led by the aging Hosius of Córdoba, the Spanish bishop who had started the theological quandary by suggesting the “consubstantial” (homoousios) formula at Nicaea. This council, which became an


anti-Arian council, restored Athanasius, along with other deposed bishops, and passed several canons making the bishop of Rome supreme judge in determining the status of bishops under certain conditions. The decisions of the Council of Sardica were dismissed out of hand by the Eastern Arian bishops. Nevertheless, over the next 2 years, concessions were made and an anxious peace was attained. The Syrian bishops readmitted Athanasius into communion, so when Gregory of Cappadocia, the Arian stand-in bishop of Alexandria, died in 345, Athanasius, with the encouragement of Constans, returned to Alexandria, where he was enthusiastically restored as bishop. But in 351 Athanasius was accused of siding with Magnentius in his bid for power, and after the defeat of Magnentius, Athanasius was again a marked man. Constantius called two synods, at Arles in 353 and at Milan in 355. The emperor insisted the Western church condemn Athanasius, which it did. The few bishops who refused were exiled: Lucifer of Cagliari (Calaris in Sardinia), Eusebius of Vercellae, Dionysius of Milan, Hilary of Poitiers, and the newly elected bishop of Rome, Liberius. The following year, a military escort installed another Arianleaning bishop named George to the see of Alexandria. Athanasius went into hiding in upper Egypt, sheltered by the monks, until the death of Constantius. The exiled bishops declared Constantius the forerunner of the Antichrist or the Antichrist himself. We may briefly remind ourselves of the theological issue, and the linguistic solutions, as distinct from political intrigue. The bishops of the West generally stood by the Nicene Creed, despite the word homoousios (consubstantial = same substance). The bishops of the East sought a new creed. Because so many did not approve of the nonbiblical word homoousios, other words were put forth. The strong Arians who wished to maintain a sharp distinction between Jesus and the Father favored anomoios (“dissimilar”), to declare Jesus was “unlike” the Father. They are known as the Anomeans. Acacius, bishop of Caesarea, introduced the word homoios (“like”), as both biblical and a middle road. The word, when attached to “substance,” produced homoiousios (“similar substance”), another nonscriptural compound, so that Jesus was not quite the same substance as God the Father but similar. Those who favored this compromise are called the Homoeans.60 After campaigning along the Danube in 357, Constantius paused in Sirmium, the capital of Illyricum. There a small group of important bishops, including Hosius of Cόrdoba, met to discuss the theological differences within the church. They came to a general statement of self-evident scriptural truth; namely, there is only one God almighty and Father, his only Son Jesus Christ, both Lord and Savior, begotten of the Father before all ages. Only God knows how he begot the Son, and only the Son knows how he was begotten. Jesus is subordinate to the Father, as all else is subordinate to Jesus. They also concluded that the word “substance” (Greek ousia, Latin substantia) should not be used, whether qualified by “same” or “similar,” to speak of Jesus because it is prone to misunderstanding and not in the Scriptures.61 This statement was buttressed by a host of Scripture references and appeared rather nonthreatening. But it soon became known, by the pen of Hilary of Poitiers, as the blasphemy of Sirmium because it could be understood to mean Jesus was


a mere creature, “essentially” inferior to the Father. Hilary later called it the “ravings of Hosius” whom he thought had composed it and was therefore a traitor. But Hosius, we are told, signed the creed only after being tortured.62 Nevertheless, the exiled bishop Liberius signed on to it in 358 and was allowed to return to Rome. Soon there was a flurry of attempts, most notably by Basil of Ancyra, to put forward the compromise term, “similar substance,” while the ardent Arian bishops insisted on “dissimilar” substance, and the Catholics held firm on “same substance.” The dispute reached its peak in 359, when Constantius called for two synods, East and West, to settle the matter. Bishops met at Arminium (Rimini) in Italy and at Seleucia, near the south coast of Asia Minor (Silifke, Turkey). The Arminium synod was comprised mostly of Catholics, with a few powerful Arians, and the Seleucia synod was strongly Arian. Before them was a revised Sirmium creedal statement, known as the Dated Creed. It ended by renouncing any use of the term “substance” in reference to God, “because the divine Scriptures nowhere refer to the ‘essence’ of the Father and Son. But we say that the Son is like the Father in all things, as also the Holy Scriptures say and teach.”63 The absence of any form of “substance” in the creed undermined both the Western Catholics and the “similar substance” of the Homoeans. The bishops at Arminium were not allowed to leave until they had signed the Dated Creed. In the end, as winter approached, they did. They agreed to not speak of the ousia of God. They would only continue to believe in the “consubstantiality” of Jesus Christ and God the Father. They submitted to the imperial pressure, but nothing had been resolved. Arian doctrine reached its peak in 359, the year of which Jerome would later write, “The whole world groaned and marveled to find itself Arian.”64

20.2.2 Christian Response to Julian Little is known of the response of Christians to Julian during his brief reign. Later Christian historians, Socrates Scholasticus and Sozomen, would devote much ink to his life, but Julian first received the title “Apostate” only two centuries later.65 It is likely true, as Sozomen says, that Christians feared a revival of persecution from the days of Diocletian, a memory rekindled by the news of Julian’s hatred of their faith. Julian did not order persecution on Christians, but when the Greco-Roman temples had been restored and their rites resumed, Sozomen tells us, Christians were persecuted by sporadic uprisings among the Hellene communities, and they were forced to flee from village to village and city to city. The most alarming incident was the death of George, bishop of Alexandria. George had apparently mocked pagans and their religion, so at the news of Julian’s succession to the throne, the Hellenes of Alexandria seized the bishop, slaughtered him, and defiled his corpse until nightfall, when they burned it. Whether true or not (and some Arians claimed the perpetrators were supporters of Athanasius), it fit the famed passion of Alexandria, but was hardly the norm. Christians mostly suffered minor injustice during Julian’s reign and countered his efforts to alter their status. All emperors were temporal. Many Christians probably shared the view ascribed to Athanasius, who,


when banished again by Julian for converting Hellenes, is said to have declared to his flock, “Take heart: this is a little cloud that will quickly pass away.” According to Libanius in Antioch, Christians danced in the streets at the news of Julian’s death.66 Julian’s effort to rebuild the temple left its eschatological imprint on the minds of many Christians, especially Jewish believers and Judaizing Christians into the next generation. Jerome commented on the passage in Zech 14:10–12 “Jerusalem shall be inhabited for there shall be no more curse,” that both Jews and Judaizing Christians interpret it to mean the rebuilding of Jerusalem when “circumcision will again be practiced, sacrifices offered, all the precepts of the Law observed, so that Jews will no longer become Christians but Christians will become Jews.”67 Similarly, in the generation after Julian, John Chrysostom had to deal with the continuing anticipation of Christian Judaizers that they could return to the Jewish way of life when the city is restored. It seems likely that Julian knew something of the proJewish sentiment among the churches, so that his effort to rebuild the temple of Jerusalem was designed to undermine Christianity as much as strengthen Judaism. The failure to rebuild the temple led to a greater triumph for the dominant Gentile Christian church, which had little sympathy for Jewish believers or Judaizers.

20.2.3 Gothic Christians About the time that Constantine I had won his battle under the sign of the cross, a baby was born among the Goths to descendants of Cappadocian slaves and named Ulfila (“Little Wolf,” ca. 311–383), or Wulfila in Gothic. The ancestors of Ulfila were among the Christians of Asia Minor taken into slavery by Gothic raiders during the third century. The captured slaves had in turn captured many a Goth for Christ, and churches sprang up. Some of the captives probably intermarried with the Goths, to judge by the Gothic name of Ulfila. We know little else of his background, except that he gained an education, for he was fluent in Greek, Latin, and Gothic and became a reader of Scripture in a church. Around 340, the ruler of the Tervingi Goths sent a delegation to Constantinople, among whom Ulfila found his place. While in Constantinople, Eusebius, formerly of Nicomedia, consecrated Ulfila a bishop and commissioned him to become the bishop of the Christians in the land of the Goths. After 7 years as bishop among the Goths, for reasons untold, the Gothic ruler began a persecution of the Christians, and Ulfila led his Christian refugees back across the Danube into Roman territory. Constantius II granted the Christian Goths a portion of land for settlement near the city of Nicopolis (northern Bulgaria), and there Ulfila remained for the rest of his life. Although Ulfila did not labor as a missionary among the Goths, he is called the Apostle to the Goths, and he may still be called the father of Gothic Christianity. The means by which he spread Christianity was to translate the Bible into Gothic. To do so, he had first to develop an alphabet and make Gothic a written language. As the historian Philostorgius notes, Ulfila reduced their language to a written form, and translated into their vulgar tongue all the books of holy Scripture, with the exception of the Books of Kings, which he omitted,

482 Vines Intertwined because they are a mere narrative of military exploits, and the Gothic tribes were especially fond of war, and were in more need of restraints to check their military passions than of spurs to urge them on to deeds of war.68

Had Philostorgius, the Arian historian, been among the victors in the christological debate, his history would be preserved complete, not in the fragments it is, and Ulfila would have been a giant of the church, not a noble heretic. But during the raging theological debate of his day, Ulfila sided with the moderate Arians and therefore ensured the obscurity of his memory, as if he had prayed only in his closet, though during most of his life he had the favor of Arian emperors. Of greater significance, however, is that he bequeathed to his Goths an Arian Christianity. Within the following generations, the Goths would become Arian Christians and remain so for two centuries.

20.2.4 Christians in Persia and the East Constantine’s attempt to persuade Shapur II to let Christians live peaceably within Persian realms may have alerted the Shah-an-shah to the fact that Christian loyalty to the religion of the new Roman emperor, who was now their champion, posed a threat to the stability of the empire; a fifth column. This best explains the sudden campaign against the Christians of Persia. According to Sozomen, magi began the initial attack in 340, and with the cooperation of the Jews, they destroyed the Christian houses of prayer. An accusation against the Jewish involvement is preserved in the Syrian sources. But the Jews, those who are at all times against our people, who murdered the prophets, crucified the Messiah, stoned the apostles, and continually thirst for our blood, found for themselves an opportunity to slander, and because they had freedom of speech due to their proximity to the queen because she was of their opinion, they began to attack the glorious Simeon with slander.69

The repetition of the Jewish persecution of prophets, Messiah, and apostles is a standard rhetorical device to emphasize the long heritage of Jewish hatred for Christians, but it does not undermine the reality of Jewish involvement. Nor does it clarify the motivation of the Jewish involvement, which may have agreed with the Persians, that the Christians were a fifth column in their homeland. In the turmoil, Simeon bar Sabba’e, bishop of Seleucia-Ctesiphon, was arrested on the charge of being a friend of Caesar and the Romans. He was to be released only when he had collected a double poll tax on all the Christians “who share the sentiments of Caesar, our enemy.”70 The monks had no money to pay, and others also rejected the tax on principle, since they believed Christian Rome was destined to defeat Persia, and they would not aid the enemy of God. Apparently Simeon bar Sabba’e did not even attempt to raise the money. He was decapitated in April 341. Simeon’s archdeacon, Sahdost, became the new bishop, but he was executed within a year, and Barbahemin, the next bishop, was likewise beheaded (ca. 346–47). Thereafter, the bishop’s chair was left vacant for some years and did


not resume with any stability until after the death of Shapur II (379). When Nisibis was returned to Persian control in 363, most of the Christian clergy and scholars, such as Ephrem Syrus, departed, and the Persian church took up the welfare of the Christians in that city. Our knowledge of the Persian church in the early fourth century centers on the figure of Aphrahat, known as the Persian sage ( fl. 300–345). In some traditions he is called Jacob, and his knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures, coupled with his silence on Zoroastrianism, has led scholars to suppose that Aphrahat was of Jewish heritage. But he is equally well-grounded in the New Testament, and because he lived through the persecutions of Christians under Shapur II, he had reason to avoid mention of Zoroastrian doctrine and clergy. His emphasis on celibacy suggests he was probably a monk, and if so, he may have dwelt at the monastery of Mar Mattai near Mosul (Iraq). Of his writings, 23 treatises, called Demonstrations, have been preserved. The first 10 were written by 337, and the next 12 completed by 344, and the final one in 345. Aphrahat’s Christian faith was simple and fundamental. He was interested in resisting moral evil, not in speculations about the nature of God or of Jesus. He offers an essential statement of faith in the fourth century: Now thus is faith; when a man believes in God the Lord of all, Who made the heavens and the earth and the seas and all that is in them; and He made Adam in His image; and He gave the Law to Moses; He sent of His Spirit upon the prophets; He sent moreover His Christ into the world. Furthermore, that a man should believe in the resurrection of the dead; and should furthermore also believe in the sacrament of baptism. This is the faith of the Church of God.71

While he was aware of Valentinus, Mani, and Marcion, he did not see their teachings or their followers as an immediate danger. He gives so much attention to Judaism that by contrast, it must have been the leading opponent to the faith of Aphrahat. His treatises against Judaism may have been stimulated during Shapur’s persecutions by Christians either converting to the imperially accepted monotheism of Judaism or Jewish believers reverting to their Judaism for the same reasons. If Aphrahat’s faint light may be taken as representative of Persian Christians, they were kith and kin to the Jews of Persia and Mesopotamia, humbly following a moral life guided by the teachings of Jesus and Hebrew traditions, yet aware, as were their Jewish compatriots, of the stark difference between them concerning the centrality of Jesus. But they had little time or interest in the delights of theology that plagued the West.

20.3 Jews 20.3.1 Jews of Palestine and the West Hillel II (ca. 320–365) provided a long and stable rule for the patriarchate in Palestine. Little is recorded of his reign—indeed, he is mentioned only twice in the Palestinian Talmud in connection with halakhot, and not at all in the Babylonian


Talmud—but he clearly represented the Jews to Constantine and his successors. The life of Jews in the Roman Empire remained stable, though perhaps hostilities with Christians were greater in Palestine than elsewhere, as Christians flocked to the Holy Land. By 339, it was deemed necessary to issue new laws extending the prohibition against Jewish ownership of Christian slaves. Formerly the law had prohibited the circumcision of male slaves; now it prohibited mere ownership of a Christian slave, male or female. If a slave was circumcised, the penalty was death and confiscation of the owner’s estate. It appears that some women who worked in the state-owned weaving industry were entering into Jewish societies either as laborers or by marriage and working for them. Such skilled women laborers were required to return to the state-controlled weaving industry.72 Although the law appeared to be aimed at protecting the Christian faith, it was designed to restrict and control the Jewish population, as well as to foster the growth of the Christian population, and its promulgation had serious economic consequences in a slave economy. Much of the slavery involved was essentially an indentured servitude, and for many a slave it promised the security of a livelihood so long as the workers remain loyal. Jews were put at a disadvantage in using the available labor pool, and Hellenes who sought work were also hurt. The laws would have to be revisited periodically for the health of the economy. It is plausible that the imperial restrictions on slave ownership and the resulting interference with the natural slave economy sparked the revolt of Jews and Samaritans against Gallus in 351. Laws designed to give Christian weavers, or the imperial weaving industry, an economic advantage over Hellenes and Jews were bound to be rejected by the day laborers on more basic grounds than religious identity.73 Laws that prohibited intermarriage between Jews and Christians had the support of rabbis as well as bishops, but the very need for the coercive force of law indicates that Jewish and Christian sermons were falling on deaf ears. Christians, for one reason or another, be it for love or money or conviction, continued to convert to Judaism. By 353, a new law penalized a Christian convert to Judaism by the confiscation of his property to the state treasury.74 This law merely revived the old law against a Roman citizen converting to Judaism. Attempts were also made to keep the Jews in Palestine from controlling the religious calendar. Many Christians still thought it right to observe Jewish holy days and to celebrate the Dominical Pascha according to the date for Passover. Publication of the Passover date was forbidden. The patriarchate may have been reduced to sending coded messages concerning the intercalation of an extra month in the year. It is thought one such message was sent by the court of Hillel II to Rava in Babylonia: The offspring of Nahshon [Patriarch, descendant of Judah (Ex 6:23)] wished to establish a Nezib [“officer” or “month” = an intercalary month] but the Edomite [Constantius II] would not permit it, so the members of the assembly [Sanhedrin] met and established a Nezib in the month in which Aaron the Priest died [Av].”75

These difficulties, as well as the desire of Babylonian Jews to control their own calendar, led the patriarch Hillel to publish the official Jewish calendar in 358/359.


Thereafter the Diaspora could hold the holy days without continuous missives from Palestine. This brought to an end the long struggle of the patriarch and Palestinian rabbis to reserve the power over the calendar for themselves. Mar Samuel had once claimed the ability to determine the calendar, and this power grab, in the eyes of the Palestinian Talmud, was likened to the attempt by Hananiah to establish the calendar. The connection was made by attributing the capture of Samuel’s daughters in war to the “sin of Hananiah the nephew of R. Joshua, who intercalated the year outside the Land.”76 Whatever prestige the patriarch and the sages of the Land retained among Persian Jews, power over the future of Judaism had now gone irrevocably to Babylonia. Around this time, after the publication of the calendar, it is thought the Palestinian Talmud (also called Talmud Yerushalmi, the Jerusalem Talmud) was compiled, probably in Tiberias. Scholars have long assumed some catastrophe sparked the compilation and dated the Palestinian Talmud a generation or two later, culminating with the end of the patriarchate before 430. Recent scholarship has challenged this view, favoring the decade 360–370. Further redactions may account for the occasional mention of later sages. The last certain historical event mentioned in the Palestinian Talmud is the uprising under Gallus in 351, and the arrival of Ursicinus soon after, although some textual traditions mention Julian’s mobilization for his campaign in 363.77 The Palestinian Talmud, like the Babylonian Talmud, comments on much of the legal tradition in the Mishnah, but not on all the tractates, and excludes the entire order of Kodashim (“Holy Things”). Other collections of rabbinic traditions were being formed at this time, the various Midrashim, but would only be compiled within the next few generations.78 20.3.1.1 Count Joseph of Tiberias According to Epiphanius, there was a wealthy Jew named Joseph who served as a member of the patriarchal court of Ellel (Hillel II) during the reign of Constantine and acted as guardian of the heir, Judah.79 When the patriarch Hillel lay dying, he sent Joseph to bring the bishop to him on the pretext of medical treatment. Upon the bishop’s arrival, Hillel ordered his attendants out and said to the bishop, “Give me the seal of Christ.” The bishop then baptized the patriarch, under the guise of medical treatment. Joseph witnessed the baptism by peeping through the crack of a door, but out of loyalty, he kept the matter to himself. When the baptism was complete and the room again filled with courtiers, Hillel seemed to be recovered from his illness and in high spirits. Within days, however, Hillel died, and Joseph took over the management of the heir apparent, Judah, who was still a minor. Joseph was troubled by the event that had transpired. He knew that Hillel had kept a locked chest in his quarters, and Joseph finally plucked up the courage to open it. He found a number of books, including the Gospel of Matthew in Hebrew, the Acts of the Apostles, and the Gospel of John translated into Hebrew. Because of his respect for the patriarch, Joseph read the books, and in due course he converted to Christianity but kept it all to himself. Later, while on a mission to Cilicia, his conversion became public knowledge, and he was flogged and excommunicated by


the Jewish community in Cilicia. Joseph ( fl. 330–370) sought refuge in the imperial court. The emperor, delighted by the conversion of an aristocratic Jew, made Joseph a count (comes), thereby affording him protection throughout the empire, and asked Joseph what he desired. Joseph requested authority to build churches in the cities and villages of Galilee. With an imperial rescript in hand, Joseph returned to Palestine. He was able to erect a few churches in the area, but because he had become an arch traitor among the Jews, he left Tiberias and took up residence in Scythopolis, a predominantly Arian Christian city. This Joseph is the sole witness, and a clandestine one, to the claim that a patriarch converted to Christianity on his deathbed. The truth of it cannot be known, but the conversion of Joseph of Tiberias is accepted by most scholars, and the violent reaction of his former community is believable. We have no way of knowing how many Jews converted to Christianity. Neither Jewish nor Christian sources mention hordes flocking to the baptismal font, but the leap in the numbers of Christians, and the decline of the Jewish population, point to a significant number of converts.80 20.3.1.2 Julian and the Jews The accession of Julian was perhaps more of a shock for Jews than for Christians. Julian did not live long enough for his efforts to hamper the Christian momentum. But his bold venture with the Jews forced them to come to grips with life as they knew it. Julian admired the Jews for their loyalty to the traditions of their ancestors and their willingness to die rather than eat forbidden food. He also commended them for worshiping the Most High God, which he also worshiped along with all the gods, though he calls him by a different name. However, he denied their claim to be God’s chosen people or their strict monotheism in a world full of gods. One rabbinic story recounts a meeting between Rabbi Tanhuma ben Abba ( fl. 320–370) and the emperor, which despite its legendary nature is probably based on a historical event. The emperor said to Tanhuma, “Come, let us all be one people.” Tanhuma agreed but pointed out that Jews are circumcised and cannot undo this, so the emperor would have to join them. The emperor commended Tanhuma’s erudite response, but since the sage had worsted the emperor in debate, he would have to be thrown to the wild beasts. They threw Tanhuma into the vivarium, but no animal molested him. A heretic (Christian) looking on claimed the beasts were not hungry. They threw in the heretic, and he was immediately devoured.81 It has been plausibly suggested that the historical kernel behind the legend was the proposal of Julian to bring the Jews back into the Roman Empire by rebuilding the temple. It is even conceivable that Julian met with Tanhuma and other Jewish notables on his visit to Antioch in 362. The response of Tanhuma may reflect the lack of enthusiasm shared by many rabbis for Julian’s proposal to rebuild the temple, since it stemmed from a Gentile’s desire for imperial unity, “Come, let us all be one people,” not the well-being of the Jews, who would continue to stand apart from Hellene idolatry as well as Christianity.82


Whatever his true opinions of the Jews, Julian found them a useful goad to the Christians and sought their prayers and approval, or at least their benevolent neutrality, for his campaign against Persia. Toward this end, while Julian prepared for his invasion of Persia, he called an assembly in Antioch of Jewish leaders throughout the region. The aged patriarch Hillel II did not attend, but Julian subsequently wrote a letter to the Jews. To the Community of the Jews In times past, by far the most burdensome thing in the yoke of your slavery has been the fact that you were subjected to unauthorized ordinances and had to contribute an untold amount of money to the accounts of the treasury. Of this I used to see many instances with my own eyes, and I have learned of more, by finding the records which are preserved against you. Moreover, when a tax was about to be levied on you again I prevented it, and compelled the impiety of such obloquy to cease here; and I threw into the fire the records against you that were stored in my desks; so that it is no longer possible for anyone to aim at you such a reproach of impiety. My brother Constantius of honored memory was not so much responsible for these wrongs of yours as were the men who used to frequent his table, barbarians in mind, godless in soul. These I seized with my own hands and put them to death by thrusting them into the pit, that not even any memory of their destruction might still linger amongst us. And since I wish that you should prosper yet more, I have admonished my brother Iulus [Hillel II], your most venerable patriarch, that the levy [crown tax (aurum coronarium)] which is said to exist among you should be prohibited, and that no one is any longer to have the power to oppress the masses of your people by such exactions; so that everywhere, during my reign, you may have security of mind, and in the enjoyment of peace may offer more fervid prayers for my reign to the Most High God, the Creator, who has deigned to crown me with his own immaculate right hand. For it is natural that men who are distracted by any anxiety should be hampered in spirit, and should not have so much confidence in raising their hands to pray; but that those who are in all respects free from care should rejoice with their whole hearts and offer their suppliant prayers on behalf of my imperial office to Mighty God, even to him who is able to direct my reign to the noblest ends, according to my purpose. This you ought to do, in order that, when I have successfully concluded the war with Persia, I may rebuild by my own efforts the sacred city of Jerusalem, which for so many years you have longed to see inhabited, and may bring settlers there, and, together with you, may glorify the Most High God therein.83

The response of the patriarch, as well as the leading rabbis, was tepid. They could not object to Julian’s offer, but the emperor, in his exuberance, had not weighed the implications of rebuilding the temple. Nearly three centuries had passed since the temple stood in Jerusalem, and prayer had replaced sacrifice. More importantly, rabbis had replaced priests. What of the rabbis, when priests again functioned as lawgivers, judges, and the leaders of the people under God? What of the tithes, which now went to the rabbis? And what of the patriarchate? Would some form of joint rule between high priest and patriarch be possible? Finally, according to many, such a restoration required the Messiah, and he was nowhere to be found. The prospect of a third temple spawned a theological conundrum that would take


time to unravel. Some rabbis, however, must have favored the rebuilding. Support for the temple project may come from Rabbi Aha, who interprets a statement by Jose b. Halafta, “when the Temple is rebuilt there will be a return to the old order,” to mean, “the Temple will be built before the kingdom of the House of David.” In other words, the messiah need not come before the temple is built. Elsewhere he argued that just as the second temple had been different from Solomon’s, lacking certain holy objects, yet was valid, so a third temple would be valid.84 Such a minority view among the rabbis was shared enthusiastically by many Jews of the Diaspora. Tax relief was always welcome, and once the news spread, rabbinic opinion would have been helpless, and perhaps always was. The messianic fervor that arose naturally vented itself against Christians. To begin with, a new temple would annul the prophecy of Jesus concerning the temple that not one stone should be left upon another. Jews and Hellenes rioted in the cities and burned a number of churches throughout the region from Damascus as far as Alexandria. There erupted great hopes of turning the tables on the Christians after Constantine had made Jerusalem a Christian city. An inscription discovered near the Western Wall, dated to the fourth century, paraphrases Isa 66:13–14. “When you see it, your heart will rejoice and your bones will sprout like green grass.” While this cannot be attributed precisely to Julian’s edict, it represents tangible testimony of the expectation that ran through the hearts of the Jews of Palestine, and no better time can be suggested for its composition. Christian writers report that Jews sounded trumpets in their enthusiasm and collected money and jewelry to contribute to the rebuilding. Others believed a prophet had returned, and they taunted the Christians that their time of ruling had ended.85 Nor were the Jews of Babylonia immune from the messianic expectations. One man announced to the Jews from the city of Mahoza in Babylonia, “It is the time of return, appointed by the prophets, and I have been ordered by God to proclaim to you the return; you shall go up!” He convinced thousands, many of whom were probably stonemasons and artisans. They gathered outside the city to go up to Jerusalem and construct the temple, but when this movement became known to Shapur, he sent soldiers to massacre them before they could defect to the Romans.86 The events that followed in Palestine are attested almost exclusively from Christian sources. The only non-Christian source is from the Hellenic historian Ammianus Marcellinus (ca. 330–395). The rabbinic tradition is silent, and perhaps for the good reason that the temple was never rebuilt and the anticipation of it was but an embarrassment, as any false messiah would be. Julian probably followed the protocol initiated by Constantine’s building the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and asked the governor of Palestine to oversee the project. Preparations were begun for the reconstruction of the temple: materials assembled, laborers hired, including priests, and a clearing of the temple mount was begun. In March of 363, Julian departed for Persia. He wrote an open letter to the Jewish community of Mesopotamia and Babylonia, with the declaration: “I am building with all zeal the new Temple of the Most High God.”87 According to Ammianus, Julian “had entrusted the speedy performance of this work to Alypius of Antioch, who had once been viceprefect


of Britain. But, though this Alypius pushed the work on with vigor, aided by the governor of the province, terrifying balls of flame kept bursting forth near the foundations of the temple, and made the place inaccessible to the workmen, some of whom were burned to death; and since in this way the element persistently repelled them, the enterprise halted.”88 Ammianus recounts the fiery phenomenon along with other signs that augured doom for Julian, and as such, are free of any bias against the Jews. Another historian, Rinius, who probably had access to the official reports, mentioned that an earthquake occurred the previous night that terrified the workmen.89 Christian writers embellished the cessation with greater signs and wonders, but it is possible that the earthquake released gases that caught fire, burned some workers, and frightened all. Work halted, awaiting, perhaps new directions from the emperor, which never came.

20.3.2 Jews in Persia Jewish life fared slightly better under Shapur II than it had been under the era of Katir, but taxes remained oppressive, and Jews, like all their neighbors, tried to avoid them. Jewish courts still had trouble imposing the death penalty. But on the whole, there is no evidence that the Persian government under Shapur II persecuted Jews in the way that it persecuted Christians. Jews were not pressured to reject their practices or beliefs or to worship the state cult. The military campaigns of Shapur placed the same burden on Jews in Persia as their brethren in Palestine suffered under Roman law, and the Jews dealt with it as best they could and avoided it when possible. The numbers of Christians grew, and the intercourse with Jews of Babylonia grew with it. Rava bar Joseph (d. 352), now in his later years, became the leading sage of this era. After the death of Abaye in 339, the remaining students at Pumbedita joined Rava in Mahoza, and at this time, the school of Mahoza is said to have been the only one in Babylonia.90 Rava also devoted time to public lectures, usually haggadah based on the Writings: Psalms, Proverbs, Job, Song of Songs, and Ecclesiastes. Rava appears to have made a name beyond the Jewish community, for rabbinic tradition states that he enjoyed the interest and protection of Ifra Hormuz, the queen mother of Shapur II. He accepted money from the queen mother and was criticized by a rabbi in Palestine (who also was offered money but declined), but Rava argued, quite plausibly, that he did so to keep peace with the government.91 Another time, at the request of the queen mother, Rava identified a blood specimen as that which comes from sexual desire. It was an odd request but may have involved court intrigues or magic. Once Rava sentenced a Jew to a severe lashing for having intercourse with a Gentile, and the man died under the lash. When the matter reached Shapur, the king intended to punish Rava, but his mother cautioned her son against interfering with the Jews, since God answers their prayers. Shapur asked for an example. Ifra Hormuz replied that Jewish prayers bring rain. Skeptical, Shapur called for the Jews to pray in the dry season of Tammuz. Rava prayed, but no rain came. He then called out to God in the words of the psalmist:


“We have heard with our ears, O God, our ancestors have told us, what deeds you performed in their days, in the days of old” (Ps 44:1 [2]). He added, “But as for us we have not seen with our eyes.” Thereupon, the rain fell, and the gutters of Mahoza emptied into the Tigris.92 As with many such legends, we assume some historical background that spawned it, and it gives evidence of relations between the leading sage and the imperial court. The burden of taxation also occupied Rava. While only Christians appear to have been doubly taxed and persecuted, the Jews spent considerable energy attempting to avoid the enormous tax burden of the shah. Several Talmudic rulings of the day deal with escaping the city at tax time, yet retaining ownership of one’s property. Rava was of the view that Jewish clergy should be exempt from the poll tax. He permitted a rabbinical scholar to declare to the tax collector, “I am a servant of fire and will not pay poll tax,” an assertion of being a Mazdean fire worshiper, but which later commentators pointed out was not strictly a lie, since God is “a consuming fire.”93 Rava also admitted that he sent bribes to court officials in an effort to lessen the tax burden.94 The rabbis were accustomed to dealing with government officials by bribes whenever possible, which suggests a normal course in dealing with the government, not an ideological campaign. On the problems of troop movements during war, Rava instructed the Jews on how to remove from their homes the leaven of billeted troops before Passover and how to carry the soldier’s clothes to the bath on a sabbath if required.95 In the end, he fell afoul of the imperial court. The stories claim that some men attempted to kill Rava. He changed his place of sleep and found his old bed cut with knives. He had his property seized by Shapur II and may have had enemies among the Jews.96 While the stories cannot be taken as a record of events, neither do they arise out of sheer imagination. The plausible kernel of history suggests that the queen mother favored the Jews and may have privately followed their beliefs or at least have believed they had powerful magic and sought their favor from time to time with gifts. Rivals in the court, therefore, sought the life of Rava. At the very least, Rava was a political tactician who used the reputation of the Jews to his advantage, and he ran afoul of men in power. Rava died in 352, so he did not live to see the campaign of Julian or the victory of Shapur. Nahman b. Isaac (d. 356) was a disciple of Rava, and after his master’s death, he returned to Pumbedita and served as head of a school for 4 years. Though he was gifted with a keen memory, he recognized that his talents lay not in deciding points of law but in preserving the legal tradition. As he said, “I am neither a scholar, nor a visionary, nor unique, but I am a teacher and transmitter of traditions.”97 He collected and arranged the halakhot of his predecessors and formed mnemonics for their recollection, which in turn began the early redaction of the Babylonian Talmud. Rabbi Nahman also noted that the Hebrew text of the Bible, devoid of vowel markings, could be vocalized differently, as various scholars had done, thus rendering different interpretations of the same verse. Julian’s effort to entice the Jews of Persia to support him by promising to rebuild the temple may have enlisted some support beyond the brief messianic call at Mahoza, but there is little evidence to that effect in the rabbinic tradition, which


does not preserve any events of the war. From other sources, we learn that during Julian’s march down the Euphrates in 363, the Romans razed one town, Birta, that had been abandoned by its Jewish inhabitants because of its low walls. The Roman soldiers burned another more important town with a Jewish population, PerozShapur, in retaliation for resisting their advance. People fled as necessary from the army paths, and afterwards, towns and cities had to be rebuilt. The Jewish town of Mahoza near Ctesiphon also suffered, though it may have been due to the ravages of war and not Jewish resistance to Julian.98

Chapter 21

Theodosius I: The Christianization of Hellenes and Jews (364–395 c.e.)

21.1 Rome and Persia 21.1.1 Roman Empire When the replacement emperor Jovian was found dead by the brasier, the leading imperial officers chose a successor, another Illyrian of Panonnia, named Valentinian. Like Jovian, he was a Christian of the Arian persuasion. Valentinian nominated his brother Valens as Augustus to share the rule and gave him the East while taking the West himself. Once again the empire was divided equally between two emperors and under Christian oversight. 21.1.1.1 West and East: Valentinian I and Valens Both Valentinian (364–375) and Valens (364–378) are considered devout in their faith, but they were moderate in their theology and refused to impose the views of one side on the other in the Christian disputes. Valentinian refused to call an ecumenical council but bade the bishops call as many as they liked. The brothers, perhaps because of their own humble births, also campaigned for the lower classes. Valentinian appointed a new official called the “defender of the citizenry” with the authority to hear minor lawsuits and grant tax remission, thus granting the lower classes an affordable justice. He also continued Constantine’s policy of granting senatorial status to officials of the imperial administration, whereby a number of commoners so appointed, including German generals, swelled the senatorial ranks. After a serious illness in 367, talk of a successor prompted him to elevate his 8-yearold son Gratian to the rank of Augustus, thereby ensuring a stable succession. Valentinian spent the decade of his rule along the Rhine, attempting to sustain the territory gained by Julian. His reputation was of a man who lacked the required cultural refinement, no doubt the fruit of a lowly birth, and was easily and often enraged. Nevertheless, Valentinian was widely recognized as a shrewd statesman, one who preferred “to keep the barbarians in check than to defeat them in battle.”99 He enlisted many troops from the provinces of Gaul and built or strengthened a chain of forts and watchtowers along the border. In 374, he offered a treaty of

Theodosius I: The Christianization of Hellenes and Jews 493

alliance to the Alemmanic king Macrianus, and by this show of respect he won both peace and an ally. A similar approach was undertaken by Valens along the Danube, who otherwise showed far less ability to govern the Gothic tribes. In 375, however, Valentinian’s choleric disposition did him in. When an envoy of the Quadi took affront at a bridge he had built across the Danube, he flew into a rage and died of an apoplectic seizure. His generals buried him and dismantled the bridge, securing the peace. Gratian assumed rule of the West, but the generals of Valentinian chose his successor in the 4-year-old son of Valentinian’s widow, Justina, elevating him to Augustus with the name Valentinian II. Neither Valens nor Gratian was asked for approval, demonstrating how power had shifted back to the commanders of the troops. One of the generals not involved was the Spaniard, Flavius Theodosius, who at the time was putting down a revolt of the Berbers in Mauretania, North Africa. Theodosius had previously, in 367, defended a Britain overrun by the barbarian uprising of Saxons, Picts, and Scots, and then he served Valentinian in Gaul. For reasons unknown, he was now executed in Carthage, but his younger son, also Theodosius, would live to rule the empire. In the East, Valens was challenged early in his reign by Procopius, a Hellenic relative of Julian. Although the army stood loyal and killed the usurper, Valens remained suspicious and insecure in his rule. He kept two savage she-bears, one called Gold-dust, the other Innocence, to whom he threw those who angered him, and after Innocence had torn apart many hapless foes, he let her go back to the forest “in the hope that she would have cubs like herself.”100 More than 3000 Goths had supported Procopius, due to an oath sworn to Constantine, they claimed, and Valens retaliated by disrupting their trade until they sued for peace in 369. Over the next few years Valens sparred with Shapur II along the eastern front. Armenia remained the main bone of contention, but the mostly Christian land of Iberia (Georgia) along the Transcaucus Mountains between the Caspian and Black seas, which had not been covered in the treaty, served as the stimulus for war. Shapur forced out the pro-Roman king, Sauromaces, and set up his own client king, Aspacures. Valens sent his legions stationed along the Black Sea to restore Sauromaces, but in the end, an agreement was reached and Iberia was partitioned north and south of the Kur River. Sauromaces ruled the northern lands and protected Roman interests around the Black Sea. Shapur considered the Roman intervention a breach of treaty, and the empires engaged in conflict until 376, when both sides agreed the war was not worth the expense and a new peace treaty was signed to sustain the status quo. Meanwhile, like a plague of locusts, the Huns were threatening the Goths and the Alans in their river valley homeland north of the Black Sea (Ukraine). Ammianus provided the classic description that fed the Western imagination for a half millennium until it was replaced by the coming of the Norsemen: The people of the Huns, but little known from ancient records, dwelling beyond the Maeotic Sea near the icebound ocean, exceed every degree of savagery. Since there the cheeks of the children are deeply furrowed with the steel from their very birth, in order that the growth of hair, when it appears at the proper time, may be checked by the wrinkled scars, they grow old without beards and without any beauty, like eunuchs. They all have compact, strong limbs and thick necks, and are so monstrously

494 Vines Intertwined ugly and misshapen, that one might take them for two-legged beasts or for the stumps, roughhewn into images, that are used in putting sides to bridges [on the parapets]. But although they have the form of men, however ugly, they are so hardy in their mode of life that they have no need of fire or savory food, but eat the roots of wild plants and the halfraw flesh of any kind of animal whatever, which they put between their thighs and the backs of their horses, and thus warm it a little.101

The Goths in turn, pressed upon the northern frontier seeking safety in the empire, and by 376, Valens permitted one of the starving tribes, the Tervingi, to enter Thrace (Moesia). As a mark of loyalty, the Tervingi leader Fritigern embraced the religion of Valens, as he understood it from Ulfila, and persuaded his officers and many of his people to do likewise. This marked the official change of direction for the Goths from their ancestral religion to Arian Christianity. Historians generally accept this conversion scenario, described by Socrates Scholasticus, to be a model for the conversion of other groups of barbarians. Federation with the Roman Empire was facilitated by the acceptance of Christianity.102 Even so, the Gothic immigrants were disruptive and unwelcome by the citizens in Thrace, and often mistreated by magistrates. Soon the Goths grew desperate and ravaged the landscape. More Gothic tribes crossed the Danube without permission, and Gothic troops already serving in the Roman army joined their ethnic kin. Valens called for help from Gratian in the West but did not wait for the reinforcements. He engaged the Goths near Adrianople in Thrace in August of 378. The battle of Adrianople became a historic catastrophe when 10,000 Roman soldiers were surrounded and slaughtered. Emperor Valens was slain and his body never recovered. This defeat shocked the empire and marked the end of an era in which emperors led their armies into battle.103 The Goths then attempted to storm Constantinople, but they lacked siege works and were helpless against the walls, so they roamed Thrace, pillaging as they went. 21.1.1.2 Theodosius I (“the Great”) The death of Theodosius the Elder remained a mystery, though it surely involved the political intrigues that brought Valentinian II (375–392) to succession in 375 because Theodosius the son was dismissed from service. He retired to his estate in northwestern Spain, at about age 30, and married Aelia Flacilla, also a Spaniard, who bore him a son, Arcadius, in 377, and a daughter, Pulcheria, in 378. Emperor Gratian soon called Theodosius back into service, possibly in 377, to take command of the Danube, where he again distinguished himself. After the death of Valens, Theodosius was the premier candidate for power, and Gratian elevated him to Augustus of the East on January 19, 379. Theodosius I (379–395) immediately took up the most pressing concern of the empire, roaming Goths. Gratian succeeded in driving Gothic tribes out of the Illyricum (Balkans) into Thrace (Romania), where Theodosius was charged with controlling them. Theodosius attempted to expel the Goths but concluded, rightly or wrongly, that accommodation was better than war. There were greater foes on the distant horizon. In 382, Theodosius signed a treaty with the Goths that gave them territories in Thrace and lower Moesia and recognized them as foederati


(“federates”), an ambiguous status of legal alien that brought them into the army but did not integrate them into Roman society. In many respects this merely continued the policy of Constantine, except that now the Goths had settled within the empire. The following year Magnus Maximus, another general of Spanish origin, was proclaimed emperor in Britain. He crossed the channel and overthrew Gratian, whose troops deserted him at Lugdunum (Lyons) in Gaul. Maximus took up residence at Trier and sought his recognition from the reigning emperors. Valentinian II refused to recognize Maximus. Theodosius did accept Maximus as co-Augustus, but primarily because he was more concerned to settle affairs with Persia. While the battle lines were drawn in northern Italy, Theodosius signed a treaty with Shapur III in 386 that partitioned Armenia. In 387, Maximus invaded Italy and defeated the forces of Valentinian II, who fled with his mother, Justina, to Thessalonica. The invasion forced a decision on Theodosius, whether to accept or confront Maximus. The decision would not seem to have been particularly difficult. Maximus was the stronger ruler, a staunch supporter of the Catholic side of Christianity, and a fellow Spaniard, while Valentinian favored the Arians and had little to offer but his lineage. Nevertheless, Theodosius sided with Valentianian. The balance was tilted, says the historian Zosimus, when Justina offered Theodosius her beautiful daughter Galla in marriage and promised the entire family would convert to Catholic Christianity.104 The move lent dynastic support to Theodosius and unified the empire under Christian orthodoxy. Theodosius marched west and defeated Maximus, executing him at Aquileia. He remained in the west for 3 years. The emperor returned to Constantinople in 391, leaving the still young Valentinian II under the care of Arbogast, a German general and staunch follower of Greco-Roman religion. The following year, Valentinian was found hanged. Arbogast protested his innocence, claiming death by suicide, though Socrates says he had court eunuchs strangle the prince.105 Arbogast sent the body to Italy and awaited the imperial response. When Arbogast received no word from Theodosius, he proclaimed a new emperor, Eugenius, a mild man of letters and moderate Christian. Theodosius proclaimed his second son, Honorius, now age eight, as Augustus, and marched west once again to put down the usurpation. The battle at the river Frigidus in September of 394, if the church historian Theodoret is believed (5.24), became a memorable conflict between Christian and Hellene; Theodosius used the cross as his insignia, and Arbogast with Eugenius used a portrait of Hercules. The battle was joined, and initially Theodosius was near to defeat, but a storm arose that went before him and scattered the enemy. Eugenius was captured and slain. Within a year, Theodosius died at Milan. He was succeeded by his son Arcadius in the East and Honorius, under the guardianship of the Vandal Stilicho, in the West. 21.1.2 Persian Empire Shapur spent his final years consolidating the western frontier of his empire. He was impressed with the Roman limes defense of forts and long walls and developed his own system, including moats, across Mesopotamia (Iraq). He settled


Arabs along the frontier to act as a defense against other Arab tribes, especially those allied with Rome. After the death of Shapur II (379), the central power of the Sasanid government declined as the princes renewed their autonomy. Ardashir II (379–383) spent his brief reign occupied with the turmoil in Armenia, where local Armenian princes also competed for power. At one point he lost an army of 10,000 to the Armenian leader, Manuel. Ardashir II was deposed by the nobility, and his successor, Shapur III (383–388), sought peace with Rome. The peace treaty of 384 divided the territory of Armenia into a small western province subject to Rome and the rest, called Parsarmenia, under Persian hegemony. Shapur III allayed the fears of Constantinople by granting freedom of worship to the largely Christian population of Parsarmenia. This treaty, at the expense of the buffer state, brought a peace that lasted for more than three decades and permitted Persia and Byzantine Rome to concentrate on their respective threats at opposite ends of the earth, as well as the penetration of the Huns down the Causcusus between the Black and Caspian seas. Bahram IV (388–399), probably the son of Shapur III, succeeded and essentially kept the peace and stability of his weakened position until he was murdered by his soldiers.

21.2 Christians Under the benevolent and orthodox rule of Valentinian, the Christians in the West reestablished their hold on power, to be fully exercised during the reign of Theodosius. While the battles between bishops raged, the monastic movement begun by Anthony spread across Christendom and expanded its frontiers. In this generation, Christians ended their first theological war, and Nicene Christianity established itself as the official religion of the Roman Empire. Antioch of Syria is the center of attraction during this generation. Due to the random survival of sources, we have the best documentation of the Christian and Jewish—and Hellenic— communities of any city at any time.

21.2.1 Christians in the Roman West In Rome, Bishop Liberius had completed the Basilica Liberiana, a magnificent church on the Esquiline Hill. Liberius appointed his deacon, Damasus, to succeed him, but not all the Church of Rome was in accord. When Liberius died in 366, a rival bishop, Ursinus, was elected by his supporters, while Damasus was elected by a majority of the clergy and the people of Rome. A fierce struggle broke out between the partisans of each, and we are told by Ammianus that one day 137 people were found dead in one of the churches. Emperor Valentinian intervened on the side of the majority and banished Ursinus to Cologne. As we should expect, the partisans did not reconcile themselves, and Damasus remained a bishop under duress (366–384).106 The lavish lifestyle of which he was accused reflected the high social standing the bishop of Rome had achieved, and no doubt what was expected by


the elites. Bishops were mayors, or governors, and the greater the city, the greater the office. The party of Ursinus brought forth a certain Isaac, a Jew once converted to Christianity but who had returned to his Judaism, to accuse Damasus of murder. Damasus was tried and acquitted for lack of proof by his accusers. This was, however, a groundbreaking trial of a high-ranking bishop by a secular jury. In 378, a council appealed to both emperors, Gratian and Valentinian II, to rule on the jurisdiction of the Roman bishop, and on his subjection to a secular court. In this appeal, the phrase “apostolic see” first appears for the see of Rome. Gratian granted the request for the Roman jurisdiction over other metropolitan bishops but left undecided the question of how a bishop was to be tried on serious charges. The bishop of Rome, then, was head of all bishops in the West but still under the authority of the emperor. Gratian banished the accuser Isaac to Spain. Isaac’s ironic legacy is that he helped establish the future papacy of the Catholic Church. North of Rome, a new pillar of the church arose. Ambrose, born Aurelius Ambrosius (339–397), son of a Praetorian prefect, became consul of Aemilia-Luguria, a district in northern Italy (Cisalpine Gaul), with its seat in Mediolanum (Milan). Upon the death of the Arian bishop of Milan, Auxentius, in 374, the rival factions of pro-Arian and pro-Nicene plebs clashed, and Ambrose was summoned to oversee the succession of a new bishop. The riots and deaths during the conflict over the bishop of Rome between Ursinus and Damasus 8 years earlier was fresh in his memory, and Ambrose intended an orderly transfer of the clerical see. To his surprise, both sides called upon Ambrose to become the new bishop. Although raised a Nicene Christian, he had not undergone baptism. Ambrose declared himself unworthy and thus disarmed critics who argued a layman should not be made a bishop. Nevertheless, the call of God was not to be dismissed, and within eight days, he was consecrated the new bishop, with the blessing of the Arian, but laissezfaire, emperor Valentinian I. He may even have passed through the formal stages of deacon and presbyter. When Ambrose donned the bishop’s robe, he switched allegiance from emperor to church but remained the same governor at heart. As a bishop, he waged war against the Hellenes, and as a follower of the Nicene Creed, he waged war against the Arians, although he went gently with them for he was the shepherd of all Christians. He cloistered himself in a celibate house in the heart of Milan and turned to his pastoral duties. His education in Rome made him conversant in Latin and Greek, but he relied heavily on past greats for the substance of his theology. Among those he plagiarized were Cicero and Philo, Plotinus and Porphyry, and with good reason, for his sermons were attended by educated Hellenes of Milan, and probably Jews, who were influential and well placed in northern Italy.107 Ambrose upheld Nicene orthodoxy and worked tirelessly, and some said unfairly, to diminish, if not eliminate, the influence of pro-Arian sentiments wherever they remained. The effort brought him into conflict with the imperial family of Valentinian, most notably the empress Justina, who remained his foe. His view of the Catholic church was communion with the see of Rome. He accepted the dec-


laration of bishop Damasus that the apostle Peter gave Rome primacy, after which came Alexandria and Antioch. Further north in Gaul, Martin of Tours (316–397), a monk with a mission, was spreading the gospel of Anthony the hermit. Thanks to his patron and biographer, Sulpicius Severus, his life is fairly well known.108 Martin was born to pagan parents of the lower classes in worldly dignity, and against their will he converted to Christianity at age ten. At age fifteen, he was conscripted into the army, but when Julian became emperor and concentrated his army in Gaul, Martin petitioned to be released. “I am Christ’s soldier; I am not allowed to fight.” Julian accused him of cowardice, to which Martin said he would stand at the front lines holding naught but a cross and go unscathed. He was imprisoned but later discharged. Martin sought out Hilary of Poitiers, where he settled for a while, but soon felt called to evangelize his homeland in the Balkans. He preached and opposed the Arians until forced out of the provinces of Pannonia and Illyricum. After traveling in Italy, he rejoined Hilary in 360 and founded the first monastery of Gaul. Martin was appointed bishop of Tours in 371. Despite the power of his office, he retained his sparse and humble life, dwelling in a hut next to the cathedral. But when he could no longer endure the clamor of his visitors, he secluded himself in a hermitage 2 miles out of the city. He continued his mission work into pagan lands of Gaul and gained a reputation of miracle worker. According to one story, he had demolished a pagan shrine and was chopping down a pine tree nearby also venerated by the pagans of a nearby village. They had accepted the destruction of their shrine, but not their sacred tree. One of the pagans challenged Martin to stand where the tree would fall and let his god save him. If it happened, they would believe. Martin accepted the challenge, and as the tree fell he lifted his hand with the sign of salvation, and incredibly, the tree, as if whipped, changed direction, and, says Severus, “you may be sure that on that day salvation came to that region.” His remarkable life, whatever the truth behind the legends, laid the foundation to become the patron saint of the future France.

21.2.2 Antioch and the Eastern Conflict After a brief interruption by the Hellenic revival of Julian, the christological controversy resumed in full vigor during the reigns of Valentinian and Valens and entered the final phase of the conflict. Although Valens was not particularly engaged in the theology dividing the Christians, he was intent on unifying his portion of the empire, and like Constantius before him, he believed Arian Christianity was the best means of achieving unity. And like Constantius, his Christian beliefs, whatever they may have been, did not soften his natural cruelty or prevent him from persecuting Nicene Christians. On one notable occasion, 80 presbyters in Asia Minor appealed to Valens against the persecution they received at the hands of Arians. Valens checked his wrath during the audience but ordered his prefect Modestus to execute them all. The prefect rounded them up, placed them in a boat, and once out to sea, set fire to the boat. All 80 were lost.109


The center of attention in the Christian theological war was the venerable city of Antioch, where followers of the Way had first been called Christians. Three centuries earlier, Paul and Peter clashed over table fellowship between Jewish and Gentile Christians in the so-called incident at Antioch. Now Gentile Christians were divided in the schism at Antioch. In 365, Antioch had three bishops: Euzoius, a devout Arian, and Meletius and Paulinus, both supporters of the Nicene Creed. The majority of Christians in Antioch were Arians and had the support of Valens and Eudoxius, bishop of Constantinople. Meletius, bishop of Sebaste, was translated to Antioch in 360, to replace Eudoxius, who had gone to Constantinople. Meletius unwisely preached his inaugural sermon on Prov 8:22, “The Lord created me at the beginning of his work,” and exposed his Nicene theology. The Arians howled, Meletius was deposed, and a dedicated Arian, Euzoius, was installed. The Nicene Christians were led by Paulinus, a presbyter and long-time leader of the Nicene congregation. Meletius was among the bishops restored by Julian in 362. But many Nicene Christians remained loyal to Paulinus, who was then ordained bishop by the fierce anti-Arian, Lucifer of Cagliari. Valens banished all the bishops that Julian had recalled, so in 365 Meletius was again banned and Arians began persecuting the followers of Meletius, the Meletians, to the point of executing many, including drowning them in the Orontes River. The Meletians withdrew across the river and worshiped in open places. The other Nicene party, followers of Paulinus, were not affected by Valens’ ban and remained in Antioch. In 371, Valens made Antioch his headquarters in preparation for military campaigns against Shapur II. He built a large public bath and erected other buildings and statues of himself. During this time he intensified the persecution of Nicene Christians in his effort to attain a unified church, but to no avail. The Nicene bishops of the empire perceived that if only they could reconcile the two Nicene parties in Antioch, they might unite all the beleaguered Nicene Christians for a frontal attack on the Arians. Toward this end, three theologians known as the Cappadocian Fathers devoted their not inconsiderable talents. The Cappadocian Fathers, so named because they hailed from the province of Cappadocia, were among the most energetic advocates of Nicene orthodoxy during this generation: Basil of Caesarea in Cappadocia (ca. 330–379), his younger brother Gregory of Nyssa, and their mutual friend, Gregory of Nazianzus. Each man was classically trained in Cappadocia, and Basil and Gregory of Nazianzus were fellow students with Julian in Athens. These men were to mastermind the defeat of Arianism. Of the three, Basil led the charge, and for this he was awarded the title “the Great.” The theological battlefield was no longer a simple choice between Arian and Nicene Christianity. Two disputes sprouted from the christological quandary. One new trend came from the orthodox bishop of Laodicea, Apollinarius the Younger (ca. 310–390), hence called Apollonariansim, which argued that Jesus had only a divine soul and was therefore not human as humans are human. The other dispute concerned the Holy Spirit. Some Christians who accepted the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father nevertheless rejected the consubstantiality of the Holy Spirit. They were called Pneumatomachoi (“Disputers of the Spirit”) because they


denied the place of the Holy Spirit in the triune Godhead. Basil took up the challenge of the Pneumatomachoi. He developed a new generic meaning for the word ousia (“essence”). Just as all humans have a common ousia, or essentialness, that defines their humanity, so the essence (ousia) of God is a generic attribute shared between the Father, Son, and Spirit, and divine individuality is found in their respective personhood (hypostasis = substance). This, he argued, was vouchsafed by Scripture in the baptismal formula, “In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Basil also worked strenuously to reconcile the schism at Antioch and unite the non-Arians in some form of coalition to support the Nicene Creed. Initially, the Western bishops, Athanasius in Alexandria, and Damasus, bishop of Rome, gave him little support. But in 375 Apollonarius entered the fray and consecrated one of his followers, Vitalis, as bishop, raising the number of rival bishops in Antioch to four. It was around then that Valens threw up his hands in despair and the imperial persecution of the Nicenes ceased. After the death of Valens in the battle of Adrianople, Gratian issued a rescript of toleration. All the banished bishops returned to their respective homes. Meletius reconciled with Paulinus, and while they retained their own congregations, they held a synod of 153 bishops who united again under the banner of Nicene orthodoxy in 379.

21.2.3 Council of Constantinople The arrival of a new Augustus of the East in 379, Theodosius, brought imperial support, clothed in well-starched Spanish orthodoxy, to the beleaguered supporters of Nicene Christianity in the East. With the threat of the Goths at the gates and the Huns peering over the walls, a united empire became urgent. Theodosius sent messengers before him to make known that recognition of all bishops would require assent to the Nicene Creed and communion with bishops of Rome and Alexandria. He called for a new council, and like his predecessors, he demanded unity in the faith. The Council of Constantinople convened in 381. The same disputing parties attended, now with the addition of the Pneumatomachoi and the Apollinarians. The bishop of Rome, Damasus, did not attend. He merely demanded the council confirm the primacy of the apostolic see. The bishops were starting to move with the Theodosian flow. They accepted and reworded something like the Nicene Creed, including the homoousios phrase, and added a careful statement on the Holy Spirit. Where the Nicene Creed had said simply “We believe in the Holy Spirit,” the creed of Constantinople said, “We believe . . . in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and life-giver, Who proceeds from the Father, Who with the Father and the Son is together worshiped and glorified, Who spoke by the prophets.” Finally, they passed their canons. These included one, numbered three, concerning the primacy of the bishop of Rome, but worded in such a way as to sow the seeds for a division of the church along the lines of the empire. “The Bishop of Constantinople shall have the Primacy of honor after the Bishop of Rome, because Constantinople is new Rome.”110 Theodosius and Gratian took inspiration from the Council of Constantinople and resumed the quest for empire-wide unity. Gratian gave up the title of pontifex


maximus (“supreme priest”) in 382, which the emperors had held since Augustus, and ordered the Altar of Victory (Nike) removed from the senate house. The Altar of Victory had likewise rested in the senate since Augustus placed it there in 29 b.c.e., and though it was removed temporarily when Constantius visited Rome in 357, the Hellene party restored it during the reign of Julian. The old aristocracy of Italy remained to a large extent comfortable in their old ways of class and culture, and after the death of Gratian they put forward the prefect of Rome, Aurelius Symmachus, to request emperor Valentinian return the altar to its traditional home. Symmachus made an eloquent plea for tolerance of all religious persuasions and respect for ancient tradition. Moreover, he made the keen point that because the mysteries of God remained beyond the pale of human understanding, tradition must be given pride of place. The argument for toleration and tradition had long been used by Jews (Philo, Josephus), Hellenes (Porphyry), and Christians (Justin, Tertullian) for their own purposes in a bygone era. Ambrose took up the response to Symmachus. Although tolerance had its place in a stable society, he affirmed, Christianity had inherited the mission of monotheism, and in matters of state welfare, toleration bred confusion.111 According to Zosimus, Theodosius visited Rome after the defeat of Eugenius and lectured the senate to “cast off their previous error . . . and choose the Christian faith which promises deliverance from all sin and impiety.” But, says Zosimus, none of the senators were willing to abandon their ancestral rituals, for “by observing these rites they had lived in a city which was unconquered for almost twelve hundred years, and did not know what might happen if they changed their beliefs.” Although writing a century later, Zosimus, himself a proud Hellene, surely gives voice to the Roman aristocracy of this generation when he observes, “Thus the Roman empire has been gradually diminished and become a home for barbarians. . . .”112 Native-born Christians of lower ranks still found non-Christian beliefs attractive, and by 383, the imperial throne found it necessary to issue a law prohibiting Christians from polluting themselves with “the Jewish contagions” or participating in the religious ceremonies of Hellenes or Manichaeans and any form of apostasy.113 The punishment was the inability to bequeath inheritance, a restriction applied to mental incompetency, so the law equated apostasy with insanity up to a point, but additional legislation within the law attempted to limit its abuse by false accusations from heirs to property. The Arians did not disappear, but they began to lose power without imperial support, and it seems that the majority of lay Christians had favored the orthodox creed all along. Many of the disputes were as much political struggles or personality clashes as theological quarrels, and once again, religion was in the service of politics. Arian beliefs had already taken root among the Goths, and over the next generation, Gothic identity would assume Arian Christianity, so that religion was still the handmaid of kings. Theodosius, for all his orthodoxy, was an emperor first. In 391, a mob in Thessalonica lynched the military commander stationed there after he refused to grant liberty to a prisoner whose presence, they thought, was essential to the chariot races. Theodosius gave the Goths permission to exact revenge on the unruly people, but


the Goths themselves lost all sense of proportion and indiscriminately marched 7000 people into the stadium, including innocent visitors, and massacred them. The public was horrified at the atrocity, and it resulted in a new milestone for relations between church and state. Ambrose informed the emperor that he was excommunicated, and only through public repentance could he be forgiven and restored to communion of the church. He put forward King David as exemplar. Theodosius submitted to the discipline of Ambrose. He appeared in penitent clothing and confessed his sin in church. Soon thereafter he issued an edict that gave a 30-day reprieve prior to all capital punishment.114

21.2.4 Antioch: Hellenes, Christians, and Jews The Roman Empire was still largely Hellenic, and the old patrician class very much so. When Theophilus, the patriarch of Alexandria, capped his campaign against Hellenes by leading a mob of Christians to sack the Serapeum temple and smash the cult statue of Serapis in 391, he persuaded few Hellenic intellectuals of the superiority of Christianity.115 The eloquent rhetorician of Antioch, Libanius (314–ca. 393), is a model among those Hellenes who were conversant and comfortable equally with Jews and Christians. Educated in Antioch, supplemented by 4 years at Athens, he taught in several cities, hampered somewhat by the fact that he was outspoken about his religious persuasion. He spent 3 years in Constantinople and a number of years at Nicomedia. In 349, he wrote a panegyric of the emperors Constantius and Constans, which won him an imperial position as teacher of rhetoric in Constantinople. But he longed for his native city, and in 354 he was able to return to Antioch permanently until his death around 393. Libanius was a religious man. He spoke often of the involvement of the gods in human affairs and seems to have believed what he said—not mere rhetoric for those who did. His entire life he championed the old religion, but he did so by equating it with Greco-Roman civilization. The old religion was the old way of life, its beliefs and rituals, unencumbered by the philosophical speculations of Neoplatonism. He was cautious in his references to Christianity, but likely he saw the religion as a newfangled deterioration of social stability. Certainly, Christian rivalries and intolerance did nothing to lure him toward them. He held old religion conservative values and lived an austere life, one not given to frivolity, drunkenness, ball games, or brothels. He fought against injustice, which left him advocate for Christians under Julian and Manichaeans under the Christian emperors. To many a Hellene, Libanius served as a solitary voice of reason in an age overcome by the whirlwinds of religious passions and common self-centered sin. His only obvious flaw, easily forgivable by modern intellectuals, is that he thought very highly of himself and took offense at a slight lack of appreciation for his genius. Other than his religion, Libanius was admired by Christians, no doubt by Jews as well, and was often emulated. His letters to eminent men across the empire became a sought-after prize, and bishops long imitated his style in their own official


exchanges over the fourth and fifth centuries. Despite his defense of Hellenic religion to the very Christian Theodosius, the emperor appreciated the gifts of Libanius and bestowed on him the honorary title of Praetorian prefecture.116 Libanius drew the most gifted students, among whom were two future bishops, and members of the Jewish patriarch’s household. One of the future bishops was John Chrysostom. John (ca. 347–407) was born at Antioch, son of a Hellene father and Christian mother. His father, Secundus, a distinguished military officer, died during John’s childhood. His mother, Anthusa, only twenty at the time, did not remarry but devoted herself to raising her two children, John and his sister. She brought them up as Christians and secured for her son the best education. John studied for law under Libanius and theology under Diodore of Tarsus, the leading theologian of the Antiochene school. For his career, he chose theology over law, and after his mother died, he followed his inclination to become a hermit monk. By practicing the severe asceticism of the Pachomian Rule, however, he ruined his health, and he returned to Antioch. He became a deacon under the bishop Flavian, who followed Meletius in 381, and by 386, John finally found a vocation where his gifts were used. Flavian appointed him a presbyter and commissioned him to preach to the somewhat nominal Christian throngs of Antioch. During his 15 years of preaching in Antioch, the eloquence of his sermons, of which a thousand are preserved, made him very popular, though it would not earn him the epithet Chrysostom, “Golden Mouth,” until later, when it appears to have been first attributed by Isidore of Seville around 636. John gained immediate fame in 387 by a series of eight sermons “On the Statues.” Theodosius had imposed a high tax across the empire, and in Antioch, as elsewhere, efforts were made to plea for tax relief. But in Antioch, the leaders of a theatrical claque stirred up a mob to riot, ransack the public baths, and attack other buildings. Then they desecrated the official images of the emperor, overturned statues of the emperor and the empress, and dragged them though the streets. This action amounted to lèse majesté, and the riot became sedition and sacrilege. Although the leaders of the mob were swiftly tried and executed, Theodosius immediately demoted Antioch from its status as capital, closed the hippodrome and public baths, stopped the bread dole, and imprisoned all the senators. Word soon reached the city leaders that Theodosius intended a massive reprisal and held them responsible. While they waited, in fear of their lives, they used every voice at their disposal to appeal for clemency. Bishop Flavian journeyed to Constantinople, Libanius wrote a letter to Theodosius on their behalf, and his former student John preached to the anxious Christians. Among his exhortations, John comforted them, for those who suffer for the sins of others, yet give thanks to God who allows it, are as those who suffer for God’s sake. In the end, Flavian persuaded Theodosius to pardon the city, and its fortunes were restored. Flavian returned in time to officiate the Passover, and John preached his final sermon of the series. He compared the mission of Flavian with that of Moses before God after the rebellion of the golden calf. Had not Theodosius been morally just to have said, “Let me alone, and I will blot out this people”? But bishop Flavian confessed the sins of Antioch as if he himself had committed them and reminded the emperor that the people had suffered a fate worse


than death, for they knew the guilt of betraying their benefactor who loved them and bore the shame that the whole world knew. But by showing mercy to Antioch and restoring it to his favor, Theodosius would cloth himself in a greater glory, not only in the hearts of his people in Antioch but also in the minds of those unborn. Many Hellenes, Chrysostom later said, were so impressed by the impact of Bishop Flavian upon the emperor that they converted to Christianity.117 John Chrysostom was not a great theologian. It has been said that a history of Christianity could be written without mentioning his name. But a history of Jews and Christians cannot. Prior to the sermons on the statues, John delivered a planned series on the Arians, but after the first one, he took up a more pressing matter and began preaching against the Jews, or more accurately, against Judaizing Christians.118 He refers to these so-called Christian Judaizers as those who are “sick with Judaism.” What is this disease? “The festivals of the pitiful and miserable Jews [which] are soon to march upon us one after the other and in quick succession.”119 From his sermons we learn a good deal about the attraction that Jewish practices, and some of their beliefs, held for many Christians. It is possible, and given human nature probable, that some Jews attended the sermons of Chrysostom for entertainment, if for no other reason. He admitted people came to church as they go to the theater, “listening not for profit, but for pleasure, sitting like judges of tragic actors and harpists.”120 But they were not the stimulus for his sermon topic, rather, he was greatly concerned by the numbers of his congregation who celebrated Passover (no doubt with their Jewish friends), preserved the sabbath, observed dietary laws and Jewish fasts, especially Yom Kippur, attended the synagogue, and accepted some purity laws, like corpse pollution. Another major attraction was the Feast of the Holy Maccabees, a day (August 1) commemorating the martyrdom of the mother and the seven brothers described in 2 Maccabees and alluded to in Hebrews, a feast of particular importance to the Jews and Christians in Antioch, where the martyrdom was thought to have occurred and where the tomb and relics were preserved. The site was known for its healing powers and undoubtedly drew Hellenes and Christians into the Jewish fold. Around 380, the Christian magistrates seized the synagogue housing the tomb and turned it into a Christian shrine.121 In his fifth sermon to the Judaizers, John produces his greatest proof for Christianity: the fact that Christ “predicted that the temple would be destroyed, that Jerusalem would be captured, and that the city would no longer be the city of the Jews as it had been in the past.”122 He points out that it has been three centuries since Christ made the prediction, and still it holds true. The attempt under Bar Kokhba failed, and again under Constantine (an unverified attempt), but most recently, and importantly for Chrysostom, the effort of Julian ended in disaster. The Jews “failed to see that they were attempting the impossible. They did not realize that if human hands had put an end to those things, then human hands could get them back for them. But it was God who destroyed their city, and no human power could ever change what God had decreed.”123 For Chrysostom, Julian’s failed apostasy was the supreme demonstration of God’s sovereignty over history, but also a reminder that Christian vigilance was required. The church must do its part in keeping peace with God. With the Arians


defeated, the new danger that threatened orthodox Christianity was Judaism. The manner in which he broke off from his sermons on the Arians and took up Jews and Judaizing Christians as the greater threat was symbolic of the sea change in Jewish-Christian relations that was to come.

21.2.5 Christians in the East The church of Armenia stabilized under the direction of Nerses (ca. 353–373). Because Nerses was a supporter of the Nicene faith, he was banished for a while by the Arian king Arshak II, but after Shapur executed Arshak, Nerses resumed his duties. In 367, Valens supported a successful Armenian rebellion against Persia under Pap, the son of Arshak. Pap reinstated Nerses as the sixth catholicos (patriarch), but after Nerses criticized him for immorality, Pap had Nerses poisoned in 373. Nevertheless, Nerses left his mark on the struggling church of Armenia. According to the record of the synod, he convened a synod at the village of Ashtishat in 365. Nerses sought to regulate the monasteries and to establish a network of hospices to take in lepers and all the sick. The rules for all clergy give a picture of widespread difficulties in establishing traditional Christian (actually, Jewish) sexual morality. “He bade men respect the laws of marriage; to be mutually faithful; in particular, not to contract marriage with near kinsfolk; to avoid incest and to have no illicit relations with exceptionally beautiful girls, as was once the practice. . . . From this time, the churches were revived and enjoyed perfect peace.”124 At this time there also flourished one of the greatest sages of the Eastern church in antiquity, Ephrem Syrus (306–373). In his youth Ephrem came under the wing of Mar Jacob, the bishop of Nisibis, who encouraged him toward the ascetic life. Ephrem devoted his gifted intellect to study and seems to have followed the model of Bardaisan in writing hymns. His reputation as a preacher spread far and wide. But when the city of Nisibis was ceded to Persia in 363, he betook himself to Edessa, where he settled among a community of celibate men and women on a hill outside the city. There, in his cell, he continued his writings for the last 10 years of his life. His fame, however, required him to be involved in the great church of Thomas the Apostle, and he may have organized a woman’s choir. His prodigious work was done mostly in verse—Sozomen says he wrote more than 300,000 verses—and fall into the categories of biblical commentaries, homilies, hymns, and odes. After his death, a collection of 500 hymns was organized for a liturgical cycle. He was a biblical exegete and theologian who wrote on controversial issues, heretics, and the ascetic life. He reserved his prose for attacks on heretics, such as his treatise “Prose Refutations of Mani, Marcion, and Bardaisan.” At the conclusion of the fifth discourse, he states: “He who prays with the Manichees, prays with Satan, and he who prays with the Marcionites prays with Legion, and he who prays with the Bardaisanites prays with Beelzebub, and he who prays with the Jews prays with Barabbas the robber.”125 Ephrem died at Edessa on June 9, 373. Around this time, the seminary, or school, of Edessa was founded. It was known as the Persian school probably because it was founded or augmented by


Persian Christians fleeing westward after the peace made by Jovian in 363 returned the territories beyond the Euphrates to Persia. The commentaries of Ephrem were the standard works for biblical studies. The school of Edessa stressed the literal and historical interpretation of Scripture (in keeping with the Antiochene model), but biblical studies were supplemented by a broad curriculum, including philosophy, history, geography, and astronomy. Many Greek writings, such as those of Theodore of Mopsuestia, and even the history of Eusebius, were translated into Syriac and served as a bridge between the two realms of Christianity.126

21.3 Jews 21.3.1 Jews of Palestine and the West The earthquake of 363, along with the failure to rebuild Jerusalem and the temple, left the Jewish communities in the south of Palestine demoralized. Many villages were abandoned, although some, like En Gedi, survived. The silence of the stones does not tell us why Jews left their villages. It is possible, but unprovable that, as some have suggested, the Christians retaliated against the Jews and prevented them from rebuilding their villages. Animosity was no doubt alive and well, but the Christian sources say nothing, and a rabbinic tradition speaks only of “troubled times.”127 The Jews of Palestine fared relatively well under Valens, who was occupied with the war between the orthodox majority and a feisty Arian minority. Valens exiled a number of bishops, many from Egypt, to the Jewish city Diocaesarea.128 During his reign, Valens confirmed the right of Jews of Antioch to worship unmolested in their synagogues, and sometime between 368 and 373 he passed a law prohibiting the army to billet soldiers in synagogues.129 This law merely extended to Jews specifically what they were supposed to have enjoyed under earlier legislation that protected all houses of worship, but the predominantly Christian military was abusing the right of hospitality that required billeting and feeding troops. The law was issued from Trier, in Gaul, where large numbers of troops were stationed due to conflicts on the border with Germany, which gives evidence to Jewish communities in Gaul and the military abuse of their synagogues. The riots of the Hellenes and Jews against Christians during the brief reign of Julian had awakened many of the complacent Christian leaders to the lingering force of the Hellenic and Jewish population. Between the two, however, the Jewish communities were far more unified and, as rival monotheists, the greater danger to Christians. After the Council of Constantinople and the ensuing doctrinal peace, Christian clergy turned their attention to those outside the church. In this new battle, they were able to call on an army of monks, but Christians could riot anywhere. We hear of Christian mobs damaging or destroying the synagogues of Aquileia (388) and Rome (395). The Jews of Callinicum on the Euphrates suffered the burning of their synagogue in 388 by a mob of Christians under the leadership of the bishop. They appealed to the emperor for justice. Theodosius ordered the bishop to rebuild


the synagogue at his own expense, and he would have done so had not Ambrose, bishop of Milan, intervened. To Ambrose, this was to let the vanquished glory over the victors. Ambrose argued before Theodosius that, just has he had forgiven the affront of the rioters in Antioch after they defaced his statues, he should likewise forgive the Christians their enthusiasm. He reminded Theodosius that under the reign of Julian many churches were burned in Gaza, Ascalon, and Berytus (Beirut), as well as a basilica in Alexandria put to the torch by Hellenes and Jews, and the Christians did not demand punishment. His entreaty did not convince the emperor, but when Ambrose refused him communion until he yielded, he did.130 Nevertheless, Theodosius issued an edict in 393 against desecration of synagogues, which, distinct from Greco-Roman temples, remained protected. In the end, Ambrose may have taken responsibility for the funds to rebuild the synagogue.131 Despite these notable incidences of violence, material remains across Italy indicate that the Jews lived in peace, interacting freely with their Christian and Hellene neighbors, as well as keeping close ties with other Jewish communities in Italy.132 In 388, Theodosius issued the law of interdiction on marriage between Christians and Jews: “No Jew shall take a Christian woman in marriage, neither shall a Christian marry a Jewess. Indeed, if anyone shall commit something of the kind, his crime shall be considered as an adultery, with the right to accuse allowed the general public.” Such a law was already in keeping with the rulings of bishops and rabbis, so it is apparent that both sides were fighting a losing battle. The novelty is that the sin is now a crime, punishable by the state. This brought Jews into line with a previous ban on marriages between citizens in the provinces and barbarians under Valentinian I.133 Another law issued in 393 interfered with the Jewish marital custom of polygamy.134 This law, however, reflected the trend among Jews in the West toward monogamy, in keeping with the general attitude of Christian European society, and would later be addressed around the year 1000 at the synod in Mayence, France, called by Rabbi Gershom ben Judah, in which polygamy was banned. The patriarchate came under some scrutiny but was supported by the emperor. Shortly before 395, the governor of Palestine, Hesychius, attempted to accuse Gamaliel V of supporting a conspiracy against the throne, and in the process he bribed someone in the patriarchal court to produce correspondence of Gamaliel. When Gamaliel complained to Theodosius, the governor was found guilty and executed.135 The recognition given by Theodosius to the patriarch and his council, including some rabbis, effectively recognized the Jewish people within the empire as a religious community with clergy and leaders, structurally comparable to the Christian church. The Historia Augusta preserves a spurious letter, ostensibly from Hadrian to Julius Servianus, that tells us something about the late fourth century when it is reckoned to have been composed. It contains a comment on Christians, Samaritans, and the patriarch of the Jews. Those who worship Serapis are, in fact, Christians, and those who call themselves bishops of Christ are, in fact, devotees of Serapis. There is no chief of the Jewish synagogue, no Samaritan, no Christian presbyter, who is not an astrologer, a soothsayer, or a trainer

508 Vines Intertwined of athletes. Even the great patriarch, when he comes to Egypt, is forced by some to worship Serapis, by others to worship Christ.136

This is obviously a parody, but of what reality? It suggests that monotheists had little difficulty in accommodating themselves to the polytheistic milieu of Alexandria, as we should expect at the street level. It may also reveal en passant that the Jewish patriarch, in this case Gamaliel V or Judah IV, on occasion came to Alexandria to visit the Jewish community, perhaps to negotiate some controversy, and while there, he paid his diplomatic respects to the Christians in their basilica, and the Hellenes in their temple—as a modern Israeli diplomat visiting a mosque in Egypt or the Vatican in Rome on behalf of the Jews. This picture fits the rise of the patriarchate to its pinnacle at the later fourth century and gives evidence to the importance of the patriarch among the Jewish communities in the Diaspora, which it is argued, was greater than in Palestine.137 Elsewhere around this time, the Jewish community in Apamea, a Greek city 50 miles south of Antioch along the Orontes River, constructed a new synagogue with help from Jews in Antioch. An inscription found there says: At the time of the most honored archisynagogoi [synagogue leaders] Eusebius and Nemios and Phineos, and Theodoros the gerousiarch and the most honored presbyters Eisakios and Saulos and the rest, Ilasios, archisynagogos of the Antiocheians, donated the mosaic entryway, 150 feet, in the year 703, the seventh of Aydynaois [January 7, 391]. Blessing on all.138

Back in Antioch, where the Jews who donated the entryway lived, a similar donation by Christians to a church shows the similarities. At the time of our most holy bishop Flavian and the most devout administrator and presbyter Eusebius, Dorys the presbyter, fulfilling a vow, donated the mosaic exedra. In the month of Dystros 435 [March 387].139

21.3.2 Jews in Persia During this 30-year generation, life for Jews under the Sasanians successors passed quietly, apart from the deportation of Armenian Jews under Shapur II, for which we have almost no information. The leading sages of this generation had studied either with Abaye or Rava, or often both. Nearly all scholars admit that about at this time the “schools of the rabbis” were becoming fixed institutions, in which the location, especially Pumbedita, was more important than the particular rabbi who served as head. The rabbinic lectures known as the kallah also appear to have become a regular institution by this time. These lecture sessions lasted several days or more and drew many students for intensive study. It is thought they were instrumental in the formation of true academies during the Islamic era, but at this point they appear to have been fairly small and irregular.140 The school of Pumbedita was led by several sages following the death of Nahman. Rav Hama of Nehardea led the school for 21 years, until his death in 377. He was followed by Rav Zebid from 377 to 385, by Dimi of Nehardea, formerly


a merchant of produce, for 3 years (385–388), and then, according to late tradition, by a sage called Rafram bar Papa until 395.141 One curious tradition relates that King Shapur II once asked Hama what passage in Scripture the Jews used to deduce their law of the burial of the dead. Hama, we are told, remained silent. The tradition follows with a selection of Scripture references Hama might have used, and reasons why he did not, since either the exegetical principles would not have been understood or the verses could be understood as mere custom, not a divine commandment.142 The tradition suggests an attempt by Shapur II to integrate the Jews into Persian life and may even reflect formal debates over the Jewish custom of interment of the dead—a practice abhorred by the Persians. A colorful rabbi of this time was Papa bar Hanan (ca. 300–371).143 He was born into a wealthy family, which enabled him to study under Abaye and Rava. He later became a successful brewer, and his wealth enabled him to establish a new school at the town of Naresh, near Sura. Papa was a better businessman than a scholar. He sold beer at a high price because he would sell on credit, which left him under the cloud of usury, and he was accused of taking the coats off people’s backs, but that may be set within reputation of the town; for another sage, Rabbi Giddal, accused the townsfolk of being thieves: “if a person from Naresh kisses you, count your teeth.”144 Papa’s more gifted students would embarrass him with questions he could not answer. Nevertheless, he had the honor of instructing a gifted student by the name of Ashi, who would revive learning in Sura in the next generation and begin the codification of the Babylonian Talmud. A colleague and close friend of Papa was Rabbi Huna b. Rabbi Joshua (d. 410). Also a wealthy man, he served as head of the kallah assemblies between 356 and 375 for the school at Naresh.145 Of the two exilarchs during this era, Abba (ca. 350–370) and Nathan II (ca. 370–400), little is known. One incident suggests the relationship of the exilarch and the leading rabbis was at times still antagonistic. A legal question involving Persians and food preparation came before the exilarch Nathan II in which Rav Zebid took the minority view based on a ruling by Abaye. The servants of the exilarch are said to have poisoned Rav Zebid with a drink of vinegar, which they likely could not have done without the consent of the exilarch.146 These brief anecdotes are difficult to evaluate, but because they are preserved en passant in support of some argument between the sages, they leave us with a faint clue to the perennial, and real, conflict between rabbis and exilarchs.

Chapter 22

Fall of Rome, Doctors of the Church, and New Heights for the Patriarch and Exilarch (395–420 c.e.)

22.1 Rome and Persia The year 395, in which Theodosius the Great died, has traditionally marked the partition of the Roman Empire into its eastern and western realms. While it remains a suitable fixed point from the hindsight of history, the division passed unnoticed at the time, and the empire would remain a legal unity for the next century. Arcadius, age eighteen, ruled the East (395–408), and Honorius, age ten, the West (395–423), but neither ever amounted to more than a dynastic figurehead. The empire was ruled by the strongmen surrounding each throne. Meanwhile, the persistent Germanic barbarians crossed the Rhine and flooded Italy.

22.1.1 Roman Empire The longer reign of Honorius in the West was marked by instability and the shock of the sack of Rome. Theodosius had groomed Flavius Stilicho, a gifted man of Roman and Vandal descent, to administer the succession of his sons, and brought him into the family by the marriage of Stilicho to his niece Serena. Theodosius appointed Stilicho master of both the household troops and the army prior to 393, and guardian of his sons before his death, but Stilicho had to establish control from his position in the West. In the court of Arcadius, the eunuch Eutropius rose to dominance after the Praetorian prefect Rufinus was assassinated in a palace coup. Each strongman intended to dominate the other, but the contest between the East and West soon became a political ménage à trois with the rise of Alaric, leader of those Goths now known as the Visigoths, the Western Goths. The Visigoths were unhappy. They had given Theodosius crucial support in the battle of Frigidus against Eugenius but had not received the payment and lands promised. Alaric led his Goths on a rampage of Thrace and Macedonia and eventually invaded Greece. Stilicho drove the Visigoths out of Greece but let them occupy the territory of Epirus (northwestern Greece and southern Albania). The presence of Goths between the East and West, with free range over the territory of Illyricum (Balkans), created a third realm available to either the East or the West in their bid

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for control of the middle ground. The Visigoths were unable to sustain themselves off the land and so required provisions from either empire. In the early years, Alaric received supplies from Arcadius, but when these stopped in 401, Alaric crossed over into Italy. Stilicho was engaged in repelling a Vandal invasion of Raetia and Noricum (central Austria), and after a quick victory, he hired some of the Vandals to help oppose Alaric. Stilicho initially stopped the Gothic advance in 402, and again in 403, but then he decided to make them allies in his goal to retake Illyricum. Alaric was elevated to military commander, and he held his position, awaiting the command of Stilicho. Another branch of the Goths, the Ostrogoths (Eastern Goths), led by Radagaisus, invaded Italy in 405. Their force, including other Germanic tribes, numbered around 400,000. Stilicho now enlisted troops of the Alans and the Huns to supplement 30 regiments of the Roman army. He defeated the Ostrogoths, sold thousands into slavery, and hired about 12,000 of the soldiers for his own forces. Rome dedicated a triumphal arch to Stilicho for stemming the latest barbarian invasion, but the multiethnic dynamics of the empire are evident, in which mercenaries from all quarters were brought into the service of the old empire, and defeated enemies were quickly employed in the same cause. The following year, a new wave of barbarians threatened the northern frontier when Vandals, both Suebi and Pannonians, crossed the frozen Rhine in the winter of 406. Around that time, the western provinces, including Britain, rebelled under the usurper named Flavius Constantius, eventually known as Constantine III, and many of the troops in Gaul went over to him. While Constantine gained some control over northern Gaul along the Rhine, Alaric tired of waiting for Stilicho to invade the East and returned to Italy. There he demanded the agreed payment of 4000 pounds of gold for his service. Honorius and the senate wished to attack Alaric, but Stilicho persuaded the Roman senate to make the payment, which, according to one senator, bought not peace but servitude.147 In the spring of 408, Arcadius died in Constantinople. Honorius wished to attend the state funeral of his brother in Constantinople, but Stilicho convinced him to deal with the usurper Constantine while he went to Constantinople. After Stilicho had departed, the chief imperial advisor, Olympius, spread the word that Stilicho’s true designs were to set up his own son to succeed Arcadius. A mutiny at the court of Honorius removed the key supporters of Stilicho, and when he returned to deal with it, the imperial guards seized and executed him. The death of Stilicho removed the only man able to contain Alaric. Thereafter, soldiers loyal to Honorius massacred thousands of the family members of the barbarian auxiliaries still in Italy. Upwards of 30,000 escaped and joined with Alaric for protection and justice. Alaric asked Honorius for an additional payment of gold and rights to settle in Pannonia. The imperial adviser, Olympius, advised Honorius to reject the request. In response, Alaric left Honorius behind his walls in Ravenna and advanced on Rome. During the autumn of 408, Rome was besieged and progressively succumbed to starvation. Hellenic priests sought permission from the bishop Innocent I to revive their rituals in hopes of securing divine aid, and the bishop is reputed to have granted it, unofficially.148 Rome sent a delegation to Ravenna asking


Honorius to pay off Alaric, who would then agree to fight for him, but Olympius again persuaded the vacillating emperor to refuse Alaric. Instead, he sought aid from a nephew, Valens, in Dalmatia, who came with five legions. Alaric met Valens in open battle and wiped out his entire army. The blockade of Rome resumed in 409. The senate of Rome finally broke with Honorius and gave Alaric the post of supreme commander. Alaric then appointed a new emperor, Attalus, the prefect of Rome. Alaric besieged Honorius in Ravenna, while Attalus was supposed to secure Africa and the grain supply. When Attalus failed to take Africa, Alaric removed him and resumed negotiations with Honorius. Then a renegade named Saurus led a force of Goths to attack Alaric, who in turn broke off negotiations and assaulted Rome. The city fell to Alaric and the Visigoths on August 24, 410. As reward to his soldiers, Alaric let them plunder the city for three days. Although the incident carried little military significance, and though Alaric and his Visigoths were Christians (albeit of the Arian persuasion) and, therefore, spared the people who took refuge in their churches, the sack of Rome reverberated across Christendom. The inviolable city had been violated. How could the patron saints, Peter and Paul, have failed to protect the eternal city? Jerome fell listless. “My voice sticks in my throat; and, as I dictate, sobs choke my utterance. The City which had taken the whole world was itself taken.”149 Augustine grew faint. The Hellenes lamented the fall of the eternal city; just punishment, they said, for having abandoned the ancient gods of Rome. Perhaps the most enduring effect of the fall of Rome is the response it engendered from Augustine in his masterpiece, The City of God. What Alaric got from Rome was little enough. He led his army south to Campania intending to sail to Sicily in search of supplies and perhaps land, but a storm wrecked his fleet, so he returned northward and died along the way in 411. His brother-in-law, Athaulf, led the Visigoths to Gaul and laid the foundations of a new kingdom when he allied himself with the Roman order by marriage to Galla Placidia, the half-sister of Honorius. According to the Christian historian Orosius, Athaulf fully intended to replace the Roman Empire by his Gothic Empire, and he should become the Gothic Caesar Augustus. But when he saw that Goths were incapable of the rule of law, he chose to make his name as the restorer of Rome.150 The marriage alliance did not last, nor did Athaulf. He died in 416 and was replaced by Wallia. Galla Placidia returned to Italy, and by 417 she married the magister militum general Constantius (III). She gave him two offspring, a daughter, Honoria, and in 419 a son, Valentinian (III). Constantius brought the Goths into an alliance with Honorius against the Germanic tribes, the Suevi, Vandals, and Alans. In 418 the Goths, under the new leader Wallia, settled in the fertile swath of southwestern Gaul between Birdigala (Bordeaux) and Tolosa (Toulouse), called Aquitania, where they soon extended their dominion into Spain and established the first Gothic kingdom, ardently Arian Christian, that would last until conquered by the Frankish king Clovis in 507. In the East, the relatively brief reign of Arcadius (395–408) was dominated at first by the eunuch Eutropius until his death in 399, and then by lesser advisors until the emperor also succumbed in 408. Besides the attempts to retain control of Illyricum through Alaric, Constantinople was beset by roving Goths who had

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been granted the vague status of federates. Eutropius used Gothic regiments along with his Roman forces to defeat the Huns who had been raiding Asia Minor. In 399, Tribigild, a commander of Gothic troops in Asia Minor, rebelled against Eutropius. Another Gothic leader, Gainas, was sent to quell the rebellion, but he joined with Tribigild, and they demanded the removal of Eutropius. Arcadius complied, but his action sparked an ethnic uprising by the populace of Constantinople. They vented their wrath on the Gothic garrison, and before the uprising subsided, they had massacred some 7000 who took refuge in a church devoted to Arian Christians.151 Arcadius appointed a third Gothic leader, Fravitta, to high command, and he drove Gainas into Thrace, where the Huns killed him. Finally, Fravitta was executed, and thereafter the Goths no longer posed a threat to the East. Arcadius made an interesting innovation in relations with Persia by requesting Yazdgird to act as guardian of his son Theodosius. Yazdgird accepted the diplomatic initiative, and upon the death of Arcadius, he sent an advisor to support the 7-yearold king. Theodosius II was the unchallenged ruler of the East, and his years of minority rule passed quietly.

22.1.2 Persian Empire Yazdgird I (399–420) came to the throne after his father, Bahram IV, was slain by a group of soldiers. While the Roman Empire was preoccupied with its western rebellions and the invasion of the Goths, Yazdgird might have seized territory along the Roman frontier, but he chose to keep the peace and secure his own rule. His reputation by all accounts is curious. The Persian traditions, preserved by Arabs, awarded him the epithet “the wicked,” but among Christians and Jews he was warmly remembered.152 At this time the majority of Christians in the Sasanian Empire dwelt in the valley of the Euphrates and Tigris rivers (southern Iraq). In 409, Yazdgird brought to an end the general persecution of Christians that had gone on for 70 years since Shapur II, and he permitted churches to be built and Christians to practice their faith without constraints. Yazdgird also attempted to draw Armenia back into Persian hegemony by placing his son Shapur on the throne in 414, charged with converting the Armenian nobility to Zoroastrianism. The effort failed. Upon the death of Yazdgird around 420, his sons vied for power with other princes. Shapur reigned briefly but was assassinated. Finally another son, Bahram, who had been raised in the court of al-Mundhir, king of the Lakhmid Arabs at Hira in Mesopotamia, advanced with an army of Arabs to take the throne.

22.2 Christians 22.2.1 Christians in the West When Roman law and order withdrew from the banks of the Rhine and the impatient barbarians crossed over on the cold winter night of 406, the base and web of Christianity in the north lands also collapsed. Whatever survived of the churches


and bishops, we have precious little by way of artifacts and almost no record of history. True believers huddled down and passed their faith to each generation, but the social advantages and patronage that had made the faith a blessing on this earth dried up and in many places withered away. Britain entered a dark age in the historical record, and Gaul soon followed. The end of the Theodosian era left Constantinople still at odds with Rome and Alexandria over its self-declared preeminence in the East, second only to Rome. Theophilus, patriarch of Alexandria (385–412), and his nephew successor, Cyril (412–444), exerted their strong personalities to check the power of the patriarchs of Constantinople. The first victim would be John Chrysostom, who became patriarch of Constantinople in 398. In Rome, a succession of bishops made strides in claiming for themselves an authority that will eventually be called papal. Bishop Siricius (384–99) had issued the first decretal, an authoritative letter accepted in the West, and after a brief reign of Anastasius I (399–401), Innocent I (401–17) furthered the claims of Rome by insisting major disputes could only be settled by a judgment of the apostolic see. Bishop Boniface I (418–22) would thwart the efforts of Constantinople to bring the central province of Illyricum under its ecclesiastical authority. 22.2.1.1 Doctors of the Church Christian intellectual history in this generation is dominated by two Latin luminaries, Jerome and Augustine, and two others who wrote in Greek, Cyril of Alexandria and Theodore of Mopsuestia. Each contributed to the main theological debates of their age, Origenism and Pelagianism, as well as the lingering controversy over the nature of Christ; each was honored as a doctor of the church. Jerome and Augustine enabled Latin Christians to reclaim their sense of theological leadership, which they had not held since the deaths of Tertullian and Cyprian, even though the Latins saw themselves as the staid anchor of orthodoxy. They belong to the upper echelons of the Church Catholic’s honored scholars. Cyril of Alexandria, though also a Catholic, would be most important to Eastern Orthodoxy, and Theodore of Mopsuestia became “the interpreter” of Scripture par excellence for Eastern Christians of the Syrian and Persian churches, and heretic to the Catholic Church. Origen had laid the intellectual foundation for the Greek East, and his speculative theology stimulated the two Eastern schools of Alexandria and Antioch. The Alexandrian school, following Origen’s lead, favored allegorical exegesis of Scripture and stressed the divinity of Christ, as well as the unity of his person. The exegetical tradition of the Antiochene school was marked by a literal reading and historical interpretation of Scripture. In theology, the school emphasized the humanity of Jesus. Theodore led the Antiochene school and was hailed in Roman Syria as the greatest biblical exegete of his day, while Cyril became the leading voice for the Alexandrian school. Jerome (ca. 345–420), born Eusebius Hieronymus to a wealthy Christian family in Dalmatia (Slovenia), received a first-rate education in the Latin classics at Rome and entered a secular career. Around 366, he had a change of heart, was baptized, and spent the next 20 years as a wandering scholastic with increasingly monastic

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leanings. Despite his spiritual quest, Jerome continued to favor the Latin classics over the poorly translated Old Latin Bible. After some years in Trier, Gaul, and Aquilea, Italy, he went east and took up residence with a wealthy citizen at Antioch. At some point in the early 370s, either at Trier or later at Antioch, he fell ill and nearly died. During his illness, which Jerome recalled as the turning point of his life, he was caught up in the spirit to be summoned before a tribunal of the Lord. When asked who and what he was, he said “I am a Christian.” The judge replied, “You lie. You are a follower of Cicero, and not of Christ.” He received a divine beating and vowed never to read the Latin classics or other pagan literature again. Though dream it was, he claimed that his shoulders were black and blue when he awoke.153 From Antioch he decided to initiate himself into the hermit’s life and spent 2 or 3 years on a spiritual pilgrimage in the desert of Chalcis-By-Belus (Kinnesrin, “Eagle’s Nest” in northern Syria), where the simple food on his elitist palate served as penance. It is clear that he lived in some sort of a spacious dwelling, not a cave, where he could house his numerous books, so that his desert experience was probably more spiritual, or rhetorical for a rural life of contemplation, than harsh reality. During this time, he studied Greek and learned Hebrew from a Jewish believer.154 Jerome returned to Antioch amid the theological battle prior to the Council of Constantinople and joined the Nicene party of Paulinus, who ordained him a presbyter in 378. While in Antioch, Jerome visited a Nazarene community in Beroea, where he examined a Hebrew gospel they claimed was the original Gospel of Matthew. The gifted scholar was soon known to the Cappadocians, who stimulated him to improve his Greek and gave him an appreciation for Origen’s corpus. He translated some of Origen’s sermons, and while at Constantinople (380–382), the Chronicle of Eusebius, which he extended to his own time. Thus he began a lifelong enterprise of translating Greek Christian works into Latin. This labor of love for Latin literature led to a complete revision of the Old Latin translation of the Bible, begun under the auspices of Bishop Damasus when he returned to Rome in 382.155 After the death of Damasus in 384, Jerome’s criticism of the Roman clergy put him at odds with the church, and he returned to the East, where he embarked on a pilgrimage of Palestine, toured the monasteries of Egypt, and briefly attended the lectures of the aging scholar Didymus the Blind (ca. 313–398). By 386, Jerome settled in Bethlehem as the head of a monastery, newly founded by Paula, a wealthy matron of Rome who had studied Hebrew under him. There, Jerome remained to the end of his life. Besides numerous essays, letters, and biblical commentaries, he left a boon to future historians by compiling a catalogue of illustrious churchmen, De Viris Illustribus, and his most enduring contribution was the Latin translation of the Bible, known as the Vulgate. Aurelius Augustinus (354–430), the other great light of Latin Christendom, is remembered as Augustine (pronounced Au-GUS-tin), bishop of Hippo (395– 430).156 Thanks to his spiritual autobiography, Confessions, he is the best known of the ancient church fathers. Augustine was born at Tagaste (Souk-Ahras, Algeria), a small Roman town about 40 miles inland from the coast, to a pagan father of some means and a Christian mother. While he was still a child, his mother, Monica, enrolled him as a catechumen, a prebaptismal candidate, into the church and raised


him as a Christian. He received a good Latin and Christian education, but at age 17, in the full flower of his procreative potential, he discarded his inherited faith and, in keeping with the social custom of the age, even among Christians, he took a concubine of a lower class who bore him a son. The following year, in 373, his interest in spiritual matters revived, but the literary poverty of the Old Latin Bible was beneath his dignity, so he looked elsewhere and became enamored of Manichaeism. For the next 10 years, he associated with the Manichaeans while he pursued a teaching career in Carthage and Rome. He gradually realized that his adherence to a heresy would hamper his ambitions, and he gave up the Manichaeans before he won an enviable imperial position as professor of rhetoric in Milan in 384. There, he set his sights higher, a provincial governorship, perhaps. But in Milan he fell under the persuasive power of Ambrose, whose sermons he attended initially for their rhetorical force, and then for their convictions. Such convictions played upon his heart until at age thirty-three, Augustine realized he was slave to vanity. In his Confessions, he admitted that in his youthful search for God he had prayed, “Grant me chastity and continency, but not yet,” for he had feared God might hear and extricate him from the fires he wished to quench in the usual way. But now, while reading a volume of the letters of Paul in a garden in Milan, remorse came upon him like a mighty storm, accompanied by a shower of tears. “How long, Lord? Wilt Thou be angry forever? . . . Why is there not this hour an end to my uncleanness?” As he wept, he heard the voice of a child nearby, chanting “Take up and read; take up and read.” He paused to reflect whether he knew such a game as would sing these words, and finding none, considered it the voice of God. He recalled that by chance, Saint Anthony had accidentally heard the words of the Gospel: “Go and sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor” and by such an oracle was converted to God. So, he returned to where he had been reading, opened the book, and read the first verse his eyes lit upon. “Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying.” Nothing more was needed. Augustine committed himself to a life of chastity and service.157 Augustine told his mother of his true conversion, for which she had faithfully prayed these 33 years. Shortly after he received baptism, Monica died content. Augustine then gave up his ambitions and retired to his home in North Africa, where he spent some years raising his son, Adeodatus, from his mistress whom he had dismissed in Milan yet honored with anonymity. His son died at age 18, and Augustine, at age 36, found himself without obligation. That soon changed, however. While visiting the city of Hippo Regius (modern Annaba, Algeria), where he intended to found a monastery, he was virtually abducted against his will to become a deacon. A few years later, the unusually gifted cleric was ordained a presbyter. When the bishop of Hippo died around 395, presbyters elevated Augustine to the position, and there he remained until his death. His two most famous works are his Confessions, a classic of Western literature, and the City of God. The remainder of his vast literary output was devoted to theological and philosophical issues of his age, including an exposition On Genesis Literally Interpreted, directed against Porphyry’s criticism of a literal interpretation of

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the Genesis creation of the world, but also apologies, sermons, and letters to many other theologians of his day, including Pelagius and the Manichaean, Faustus. He devoted his biblical exegesis to the Psalms and the Gospel of John. Cyril of Alexandria (ca. 375–444) was a native of the great city and the nephew of the patriarch Theophilus. Other than the obvious education he received, little is known of his early life. In 412, he became the patriarch of Alexandria, a position he held and dominated until his death. Cyril was a major biblical exegete. He wrote a large commentary on Isaiah, and one on the Minor Prophets, and two works on the Pentateuch. In Christian history he is famous for establishing Christology, in the tradition of Athanasius, on whom he depends. But he is also known for his extensive, and usually derogatory, comments on Jews and their Judaism, and for this he claims a significant place in our history.158 Theodore of Mopsuestia (ca. 350–428), a native of Antioch, was born into a wealthy family and educated under the great rhetor Libanius, along with his friend and fellow student John Chrysostom. His intention to pursue a career in the imperial bureaucracy was put aside when he experienced, with John, a need to commit himself to spiritual goals. He entered the seminary of Diodorus, where he learned the science of exegesis and became, after his master, a leading exponent of the Antiochene school of scriptural exegesis. Theodore was ordained a presbyter in 383, and by 392, his reputation as a scholar won him the status of orthodox theologian. He was commissioned to debate the divine nature of the Holy Spirit with a group of Macedonian bishops, and he was elevated to bishop for the occasion. When he returned victorious, Theodore was assigned to the see of Mopsuestia, a city in Cilicia (southeastern Asia Minor) named the Hearth of Mopsus for the ancient oracle of Mopsus. Theodore attacked Arians and allegorists and defended his literal interpretation of Scripture. The leading allegorists he wrote against were Origen and Philo of Alexandria. He wrote numerous commentaries, of which few have survived, but among them are his commentaries on the Psalms, which is probably borrowed extensively from Jewish exegetes known to him in Antioch. In his view, the Psalms were primarily for moral instruction, and any christological message was of secondary value. He judged only Pss 2, 8, 45, and 110 to be messianic. His approach to the Psalms would later contribute to his condemnation as a heretic who interpreted the Psalms “in a Jewish fashion.” He was perhaps the first to compose a response to Julian’s Against the Galileans. 22.2.1.2 Ecclesiastical Controversies in the Roman Empire 22.2.1.2.1 Origenist Controversy The speculative teachings of Origen, and some conclusions later imputed to him, all bundled up in Origenism, had been gaining controversy for many years. This included his hierarchical view of the Trinity, his emphasis on the allegorical interpretation of Scripture, and the preexistence of souls, which at times approached the doctrine of transmigration of souls in different bodies until perfected, a belief advocated by Pythagoras and Plato and called metempsychosis by this time. In this


scheme, as Origen adapted it, all souls preexist and were created equal as souls, but through free choice they developed a hierarchy, and some fell into sin to become either demons or souls imprisoned in bodies. At death, the soul is released to go upward or downward, to become an angel or a demon. This movement continues until the final apocatastasis when all free moral beings return to God, that God may be all in all. This was essentially the early form of a doctrine of universalism. Because most of Origen’s works are lost, it is not clear what he held as sure doctrine or merely speculations, or how he might have answered his later critics. There had always been opponents of Origen, but the late-fourth-century attack was begun by Epiphanius (ca. 315–403), bishop of Salamis, which was the chief city of Cyprus, and which had been rebuilt and renamed Constantia by Constantius II. Epiphanius, in his famous Panerion (“Medicine Chest”), also known as Refutation of All Heresies (ca. 377), had listed Origen’s variety of beliefs, which had since been declared erroneous, and by some, heretical, as his sixty-fourth heresy. Origen, however, had his many supporters, not least the Cappadocians, and another group known as the Tall Brothers, four monks who led the Origenist campaign in Egypt. Even Athanasius had allowed Origen the freedom to speculate on things not made clear in Scripture. Jerome had supported Origen and translated Origen’s 39 sermons on Luke, but Epiphanius, on a visit to Jerusalem in 395, convinced Jerome that Origen’s writings on the nature of Jesus laid the foundations for Arianism and must be condemned. Theophilus, patriarch of Alexandria, brought the controversy to a head in 400 by calling a council in Alexandria to condemn Origen’s teachings. Theophilus had formerly supported Origen, and the change of direction appears to have been spurred more by his attempt to revive the primacy of his see at the expense of the patriarch of Constantinople, who was now John Chrysostom. Theophilus expelled Origenist monks from their Egyptian monasteries, and when the Tall Brothers fled to Constantinople, John Chrysostom sheltered them. This gave Theophilus the occasion to join forces with other enemies of John. John Chrysostom had been elevated from Antioch to Constantinople in 399. In fact, he was stolen away during the night so that his congregation could not prevent the move, as they surely would have tried. The elevation was not well suited to John, who was eloquent without tact and who led a simple ascetic life, even as bishop in the capital city. His hospitality was not in keeping with the expectations of his office. Unlike his predecessor, John did not retain a well-stocked wine cellar and lavishly entertain the constant stream of guests. John ate a spare meal, usually alone. His efforts to discipline the clergy made him enemies, and his condemnation of excesses in the royal court made him powerful enemies. In 403, Theophilus, with his nephew Cyril at his side, convened a synod in Chalcedon for the purpose of placing John on trial for a variety of offenses, chiefly his supposed adherence to Origenist heresies. The council, dominated by Egyptian bishops, met at a palace called the Oak, hence the Synod of the Oak, and deposed John. Emperor Arcadius, spurred on by Eudoxia, confirmed the decision. John preached a final sermon in which he compared Eudoxia with Jezebel and Herodias. The day after he departed, an earth tremor was interpreted as divine displeasure,

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and he was recalled. But months later, John disapproved of the erection of a silver statue of Eudoxia near the church of Sancta Sophia, and the queen banished him again. John went into exile near Antioch, where a wealthy widow supported him comfortably and he carried on a strong correspondence with friends throughout the east. In 407, the royal court deemed it expedient to exile him further away, into Armenia. During the harsh winter journey, he died. But the condemnation of Origen would remain a focal point in Christian controversies for years to come. 22.2.1.2.2 Augustine and His Opponents In the history of Christian theology, Augustine of Hippo stands head and shoulders above his peers, but as a bishop he also faced inevitable ecclesiastical problems. He inherited the long-simmering conflict between the North African church—still called Donatists by their opponents but true church by themselves— and the imperially accepted church of Rome, known as Catholic. The controversy between the Latins and the Africans that had defeated Constantine was alive and well after 85 years, with every insult recalled as if uttered yesterday. The most obvious difference between the two Christian groups was their interior wall decoration: Catholics permitted paintings on the walls of their churches, while the Africans whitewashed away all such idolatrous images. Otherwise, neither creed nor Bible distinguished them. Augustine had been converted and baptized under the guidance of the Catholic Ambrose, and confronted by the Donatist Christians, he took up the Catholic cause that only one universal church is valid. But how should unity be attained? Initially, Augustine hoped to wage a war of polemic, not violence, against the North African schismatics, to persuade rather than persecute. But in the face of his implacable foes, he finally agreed with Rome that sometimes force is necessary. He found his justification in the words of the parable on the rich householder, “Whomsoever you find, compel them to come in” (Luke 14:23). In hindsight, Augustine’s change of heart marked a defining moment in church history. The state may use physical force to attain the unity of the church. The Donatists, formerly called schismatics, were now called heretics, and despite the failure of persecution in the past, the imperial government treated them as heretics. All this was to last but a short time, for the controversy disappeared in 430 when both Catholics and Donatists fell to the invasion of Africa by the Arian Vandals. Augustine also found it necessary to take up the intractable dilemma of divine Providence and human responsibility inherent in the assumption of free will. The issue came to the attention of the West through the teachings of Pelagius, a monk who emerged out of obscure Britain sometime between 380 and 390. Nothing is known of his life prior to his arrival in Rome, but in the capital city, he was shocked by the lax morality, that is, immorality, of Christians. Upon reading Augustine’s Confessions, Pelagius took exception to the famous statement: “Give what you command, and command what you will.”159 If people are to wait on God to give them the power of obedience, he demured, God cannot rightly command anyone to righteousness without first empowering them; but God had already commanded all to righteousness. Around 406, Pelagius wrote On Nature, explaining his own


view of the human condition. Whatever damage the sin of Adam had caused, the human moral fiber was repaired in baptism, granting humankind the ability to choose obedience, and with the help of God’s grace, to follow through. It was possible, therefore, to fulfill the commandment, “You shall be holy; for I the Lord your God am holy.”160 Pelagius was a cautious teacher and did not seek controversy. But the web of interlocking doctrines, such as the need and efficacy of infant baptism, embroiled a good many theologians in the dispute. Theodore of Mopsuestia wrote in defense of Pelagius, and Jerome condemned Pelagius. One follower of Pelagius, Caelestius, argued that Adam was created mortal and would have died whether or not he had sinned, and infants are born as innocent as Adam was created, therefore, children might receive eternal life without baptism. In 413, Augustine wrote a courteous letter to Pelagius, and in 415 published his reply On Nature and Grace. In essence, he argued that human beings, because they inherit both the guilt and the sin nature of Adam, are incapable of doing good, and even after baptism, they remain utterly dependent on the grace of God for any good work. Several later councils debated the controversy, some favoring Pelagius, others condemning him. The ecclesiastical politics escalated until the Praetorian prefect for Italy condemned Pelagius and Caelestius as seditious on April 30, 419, and exiled both men and their prominent supporters from Rome. At the heart of the dispute lay the intractable dilemma of divine sovereignty over human responsibility, of grace and the nature of fallen humanity. The dispute hardly began with Pelagius and Augustine, nor would it end with them and their supporters. Within Jewish theology, Rabbi Akiba had famously said, “All is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is given; and the world is judged by grace, yet all is according to the excess of works [that be good or evil].”161 Pelagius followed in the traditions of Judaism through his interpretation of the Scriptures, that humans have the capacity to obey God, and merit may be given for such obedience. Augustine, however, defended the view long incubating in the Latin Church, that without divine grace, no one is capable of any good work, so that merit may never be assigned. The doctrine of original sin further separated Christianity from its Jewish roots.

22.2.2 Christians in the East 22.2.2.1 Church of Armenia The new king of Persian Armenia, Vramshapuh (389–417), installed Isaac (Sahak in Armenian) as catholicos. Known as Isaac the Great (ca. 350–438), he was the last descendant of Gregory the Illuminator to hold the position. He began his long tenure by reuniting the church of Armenia, reforming its discipline, and establishing hospitals. He abolished the bishop’s right to marry, and monasteries sprang up across Armenia. Although he accepted the Catholic doctrines, effectively retaining communion with the Western churches, he did not renew the ordination ties with the church of Caesarea and was therefore seen in Armenian history as the first patriarch of Armenia. This breach of the universal church discipline was

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allowed to stand, without excommunication, partly at least, because of the importance of sustaining the Christians under Persian control. Vramshapuh and Isaac decided that the only way to keep the identity of the Armenian people in a partitioned nation, split into the two provinces under Roman and Persian hegemony, was to create an Armenian literary language. The king commissioned the Armenian missionary, Mesrop Mashtots (ca. 360–439), to develop an Armenian alphabet. Around 405, the Armenian language became literary, and a written liturgy helped unify the churches. Scholars translated the Bible into Armenian, and many writings of the Greek Christian fathers as well as Greek philosophical works soon followed. 22.2.2.2 Church of the East (Persia) The church of the East had gradually reconstituted its leadership after the death of Shapur II in 379, but little else is known of the following decades. Shortly after the accession of Yazdgird I in 399, a Persian Christian named Mar Isaac took up the bishop’s seat in Seleucia-Ctesiphon. During this time, Marutha, bishop of Maipherkat in Armenia, served as the Roman ambassador to Persia, and in his favorable position with the Persian king, he mediated the rehabilitation of the Christian community of Persia, including the release of prisoners and the reconstruction of churches. With the blessing of Yazdgird, the church held a synod in 410, in which it laid the foundations for its own independent organization as the Church of Persia. The synod designated Mar Isaac as the first grand metropolitan of Seleucia and Ctesiphon, which made him the archbishop of all the Orient.162 Yazdgird officially recognized the grand metropolitan as the head of the Church of Persia, and the bishops offered up prayers for the welfare of the king and his empire. The synod also adopted the Nicene Creed, agreed to the unified celebration of Christian holy days with the West, and established 21 canons of discipline for the life of the church. The canons covered the qualifications of a bishop and hierarchy within the church, the place of eunuchs in the church, the issue of concubines and usury among the clergy, the popularity of magic and divination, and the behavior of clergy at secular holy days and funerary banquets. The goal of the bishops, as always, was to bring a standard of discipline to the disparate expressions of Christian life, a goal that was but partially successful. Shah Yazdgird’s favorable view of Christians is romanticized in the story of Marutha, the bishop of Maipherkat (in Mesopotamia). Theodosius II sent Marutha as ambassador on several missions to Yazdgird I. While in the Persian court, Marutha healed Yazdgird of a chronic headache and performed other miracles. Yazdgird, impressed by the piety of Marutha, gave him permission to establish churches throughout the Persian Empire. The magi were jealous of Marutha and worried the king might embrace Christianity, so they plotted the destruction of Marutha. They placed a man under the earth in the Fire Temple where the king worshiped, and when he entered, the man called out, as if a voice from the fire, that the king should be killed because he favored the Christian god. A distressed Yazdgird decided to send Marutha away, but the bishop, who knew it must be a


trick, went with the king to the temple, and when the voice called out, Marutha pointed to the hiding place. The furious king executed not only the trickster but also many of the magis who were behind the deception. Other attempts to remove Marutha likewise failed, and Yazdgird favored Christians for much of his reign.163 This foundation legend was how the Persian church wished to remember its establishment by God and king. Behind the legend, Marutha no doubt had good relations with the king and may have founded a number of churches in Persia, but his influence was limited to the few times he visited the Persian court. While he served as envoy from emperor Arcadius, he succeeded in averting war between Persian and Rome and further gained the king’s favor by his medical knowledge. The auspicious establishment of the church of Persia soon fell upon hard times. Yazdgird’s relatively favorable view of Christians appears to have inspired many Christians to seek revenge against the Mazadean magi, as well as imagining that Yazdgird might convert to Christianity and become a second Constantine. According to Theodoret, toward the end of Yazdgird’s reign some Christians destroyed a Mazdean fire temple. When the king ordered the bishop, known as Abdas, to rebuild it, he refused. Yazdgird responded by executing Abdas and ordering Christian churches destroyed.164 He may have resumed a general persecution, but his actions were not sufficient to sully his name in Christian memory and certainly paled against those of his offspring. In the next generation, Persian Christianity is renowned for its martyrs.

22.3 Jews 22.3.1 Jews in the Roman Empire The patriarchate under Gamaliel V (ca. 365–385/395), Judah IV (ca. 385/395–400), and Gamaliel VI (ca. 400–425/429) achieved the pinnacle of its prestige within the Roman Empire and, as the highest authority in the land exercised real power over the Jews, including the governors appointed by the emperor. In some respects the patriarch was temporarily more powerful than the Hasmonean kings.165 Perhaps because of their prominence, but at least despite it, they left little trace in the rabbinic traditions, and a precise chronology of their reigns is impossible. 22.3.1.1 Jews under Roman Imperial Legislation A relative flurry of laws issued in this generation part the curtain to Jewish life in Palestine and the western Diaspora. The law issued in 392 by Theodosius I had granted the patriarch full power to excommunicate or revoke excommunications without any interference from the imperial authorities.166 This gave the patriarch supreme rule on all matters of religion over all the Jews within the Roman Empire. Rabbinic tradition confirms that someone excommunicated by the patriarch is excommunicated from all Israel, but someone excommunicated by all Israel is not separated from the patriarch.167 The decree of the patriarch in this matter was

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irrevocable, and without appeal by any Jew in any court of the empire. Another law in 396 protected the prestige of the patriarchate against insults. “If someone shall dare to make in public an insulting mention of the Illustrious Patriarchs, he shall be subjected to a vindicatory sentence.”168 This law probably responded to insults against the patriarch by Jews as well as Christians, that is, from rabbis and bishops or monks alike. The title of “Illustrious” is the highest granted and rendered the patriarch second only to the emperor in all matters pertaining to the Jews. Several laws in favor of the Jews were issued during the reign of Arcadius (395–408). A law of 396 protected the Jewish markets from price fixing by non-Jews. The law was probably intended for Palestine, where such jurisdiction belonged to the patriarch, for it would cause difficulties in the local economies of the Diaspora, unless, as has been suggested, it applied only to markets dealing in kosher goods, selling only to Jews.169 The following year in June, the general climate of unrest after the invasion of Alaric and the conflicts between Stilicho and Rufinus required a new directive to protect the Jews from increasing violence against them. The law was directed to Anatolius, the governor of Illyricum, to do whatever necessary “to repel the assaults of those who attack Jews, and that their synagogues should remain in their accustomed peace.”170 In July of 397, an important and far-reaching law granted the patriarchate jurisdiction to appoint its community leaders, who in turn gained the privilege of tax exemption. This gave the patriarch considerable authority, since dismissal from his service meant shouldering a heavy tax burden. The patriarch then appointed leaders (archons) of the Jewish communities in Palestine and Syria, who may have been called “little patriarchs.”171 The Jews shall be bound to their rites; while we shall imitate the ancients in conserving their privileges, for it was established in their laws and confirmed by our divinity, that those who are subject to the rule of the Illustrious Patriarchs, that is the Archsynagogues, the patriarchs [Fathers of the Synagogue], the presbyters and the others who are occupied in the rite of that religion, shall persevere in keeping the same privileges that are reverently bestowed on the first clerics of the venerable Christian Law. For this was decreed in divine order also by the divine Emperors Constantine and Constantius, Valentinian and Valens. Let them therefore be exempt even from the curial liturgies, and obey their laws.172

A second important law in 398 gave Jews who were also Roman citizens the right to litigate under their own courts on matters of religion, but in all other matters, they were to abide by the verdicts of the government courts in the provinces. If both parties, however, chose to submit to a religious court, that verdict would be binding.173 The importance of this law is that it distinguished between civil and religious law for Jews. In 399, Honorius implemented the earlier desire of Julian in 363 to end the compulsory collection of tax (aurum coronarium) by the patriarch. The wording of this law reverted to deprecation, a tone absent from the laws issued in the East by Arcadius:

524 Vines Intertwined It is a matter of shameful superstition that the Archsynagogues, the presbyters of the Jews, and those they call Apostles, who are sent by the patriarch on a certain date to demand gold and silver, exact and receive a sum from each synagogue, and deliver it to him.174

Honorius may have intended the law as a favor to his Jewish subjects in the West, though some have thought it was more a matter of conflict with Arcadius over imperial jurisdiction over the Jews. Why should Jewish money go to the eastern portion of the empire? The law lasted less than 5 years. In 404, two laws were issued by Arcadius (and Honorius) strengthening the patriarch. First, in February: We order that all the privileges granted by our father [Theodosius I], of divine memory, and by the emperors before him, to the excellent Patriarchs and to those set by them over others, shall retain their force.175

This law may be seen as repealing the laws of the past 5 years by confirming all previous authority of the patriarch. It also reaffirms the title of “excellent” (spectabilis) to the office of patriarch, given earlier along with “Illustrious,” a title reserved for civil officials of the highest rank in the empire. In the East it appears that the emperor and his advisors wished to support the patriarchate as the highest level authority over the Jews and shows that the pragmatic goals of governing lay behind the laws, even when they used deprecatory language to satisfy, no doubt, some of the Christian clergy. Then in July, the law prohibiting the collection of taxes by the patriarch was repealed.176 The relations between Jews and Christians at this time, while generally peaceful in Palestine, were marked by sporadic conflicts and the burning of synagogues elsewhere in the empire. The most illustrious Christian provocateur of the day was Barsauma (d. ca. 457), an archimandrite monk who led a band of 40 monks through Palestine and Transjordan, destroying synagogues and Hellenic shrines. While visiting Jerusalem around 420, his monks threw stones at a group of Jews praying on the temple mount. A number of the Jewish worshipers were killed. Both the imperial authorities, including the bishop, and Jewish leaders appealed for justice to the empress, Eudocia, who was in Bethlehem at the time. The monks were arrested and threatened with death. In the end, they were not executed, due, we are told, to divine intervention. The monks claimed the stones had fallen from heaven, and when the bodies were examined, no marks were found. Witnesses were brought forth, but they died while being questioned. After an earthquake struck the area, which Barsauma attributed to divine displeasure, the empress released the monks. The historical kernel behind the legend is believable. Monks destroyed synagogues and were willing to murder Jews, but most Christians, including bishops, supported the Jewish community for justice. The monks were fanatics and outsiders. This Barsauma was later portrayed as another Joshua cleansing the Holy Land and made a saint of the Syrian church.177 Provocations went both ways. A law issued in 408 warned Jews to control their Purim festivities and refrain from mocking Christianity. During the frivolity and flowing wine of Purim when Haman is ridiculed, some revelers were burning

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Haman on a cross, and Christians naturally took offense. The law warns that Jews “are bound to lose what had been permitted them till now unless they abstain from those matters which are forbidden.” We hear of another incident around 416, in southern Syria, where some Jews made sport by tying a Christian boy to a cross and jeering at him. But, owing to their drunken state, some also scourged the lad, and he perished under the lash. The incident sparked a serious conflict between the Jewish and Christian communities, but only the men involved were punished.178 In the same year, during the regency of Stilicho, the governor of Carthage, Gildo, exercised a lenient hand on the aggression of Donatists against the Catholics. When news of the execution of Stilicho (August 23, 408) reached Carthage, Donatists rioted and violently lashed out at Catholic clergy. Amid the fervor of local politics, unusual bedfellows were made. Heretics and Jews joined in the attacks, which probably were led by the most fanatical wing of the African church, the roving bands of migrant workers called the Circumcelliones, supported perhaps by Berbers who hoped to gain from the plunder. Jews of North Africa found themselves reasonably comfortable in making common cause with the biblically based African Donatist Christians or other “heretics” who opposed the Catholic Church. The riots spurred another law from Ravenna that prohibited Donatists, heretics, and Jews from harassing Catholics during their ceremonies. The extent of Jewish involvement is not clear, but Augustine also observed the alliance of Jews with Donatists and heretics in opposition to the Catholic faith.179 The law went largely unenforced. Augustine appealed to Ravenna for a confirmation of the validity of the law, and the law was renewed the following year. According to the details of the law, mobs of Donatists, with their accomplices, including Jews, dragged Catholic clergy out of their homes, or even out of the churches, and tortured or humiliated them in front of crowds. In many cases, the criminals went unpunished, sometimes with the connivance of judges, either bribed or sympathetic. The law warns the magistrates to protect the Catholic Church against Donatists, heretics, Jews, and pagans and to implement the obligatory penalty of execution. In short, the law attests to the general ineffectiveness of the imperial laws defending the Catholic Church, which had to be prosecuted by local officials in a land where half the people were against it. In 412, a law issued from Ravenna protected the rights of Jews to observe all their sabbath laws free from interference.180 In 411–412, the synagogue in Edessa was burned, and in 414 the ancient synagogue of Alexandria was torched. These and other burnings led to another law protecting synagogues and individuals, issued in 420 by Theodosius and Honorius. It began: “No one shall be destroyed for being a Jew” and ends by warning the Jews against being insolent in their legal security and “commit something rash against the reverence of the Christian cult.”181 The cause of the burnings appears to have been animosity between militant Christians and their like-minded brethren among the Jews. 22.3.1.2 Jews and Cyril of Alexandria Cyril succeeded his uncle to the patriarchate of Alexandria in 412, though not without the required political machinations, for the church was divided over the


succession. Some favored the archdeacon Timothy, others Cyril. After three days of tumult, which appears to have remained a hallmark of Alexandrian society, the partisans of Cyril won him the position. Alexandria still comprised a huge and important metropolis, a mix of Christians, including the schismatic Novatians, Hellenes, and Jews. Cyril took the reins of power and, according to the historian Socrates, he intervened in secular matters far more than his predecessors had. Cyril quickly consolidated his Christian base. He deprived the Novatians of their sanctuaries, appropriated all their church vessels, and deposed their bishop.182 Then he waited for an opportunity to confront and contain the Jews of Alexandria. Around 415, an incident among the Jewish community allowed Cyril to move against them. We do not know how large the Jewish community was at this time, but they remained a significant minority, unafraid of the Christian dominance in their ancestral city. Socrates Scholasticus, our only source for this incident, claims some Jews of Alexandria spent a good portion of their sabbath in the theater watching dance and mime performances.183 Enthusiastic crowds were always a potential riot in this city, so the governor regulated the shows. On one occasion, while the prefect, Orestes, was announcing new regulations, Cyril sent some men to learn the nature of the edict. One of the informers, a certain Hierax, was well known to the Jews, and when they saw him, they loudly accused him of coming to incite sedition among the audience. Orestes, already threatened by the power of Cyril, had Hierax arrested and beaten on the spot. Cyril responded by threatening the Jewish leaders with dire consequences if they continued to molest his Christians. The threats of Cyril, a mere religious leader, only infuriated the Jewish theatergoers all the more, and they conspired to attack Christians. Accordingly, a band of Jews formed and wore rings made of palm bark to identify themselves. One night, an outcry was heard in the streets that the Alexander Church was on fire. As Christians rushed out to save the church, the Jews, known to each other by their rings, attacked and killed some of them. The conspirators were identified, however, and the following day, Cyril led a large crowd to the synagogues and apprehended them. By sheer force of numbers, Cyril drove the Jews out of the city and let their synagogues be plundered.184 Once again in Alexandria, law and order had gone astray. Cyril acted outside the law, but the expulsion can only have been temporary because the governor Orestes took the side of the Jews. Both he and Cyril put the matter to the emperor, but we are not informed of an imperial decision, only that the incident left bad blood between Cyril and Orestes. Shortly thereafter, about 500 fiery monks descended from their monasteries in the Nitrian desert, west of the Nile, to support Cyril against Orestes. They came upon Orestes in his chariot and accused him of being a pagan idolater. Despite his protestation that he was a Christian, baptized by the patriarch of Constantinople, one of the monks, Ammonius, threw a stone at the governor and wounded him in the head. By then the people of Alexandria rushed out to support their governor and put the monks to flight. Orestes soon executed Ammonius. Cyril declared Ammonius a martyr for having perished in defense of piety, an enrollment that was not well received by most Christians. Finally, a respected woman philosopher in Alexandria named Hypatia, who lectured to the

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elite intellectuals of the city and often met with Orestes, was suspected by supporters of Cyril of preventing a reconciliation between Orestes and Cyril. A gang attacked her carriage and took her to a church, where they stripped her naked and killed her with bricks. After dismembering the body, they took the pieces out of the city and burned them. Whether or not Cyril had prior knowledge of this outrage, it cast a cloud of opprobrium over his entire episcopate. These stark reports leave a number of questions unanswered, but the conflict between the Jews and Christians appears to be more the result of Alexandrian politics, a vast unruly population, and the faltering attempts of a young and impetuous bishop to establish control than of widespread religious animosity. We must assume both Jewish and Christian communities in Alexandria, as elsewhere, had their zealous factions that could not always be controlled. A more complete picture would include imperial politics and local economic strife. The Jews of Alexandria engaged in the shipping trade had an advantage over the Christians who were constrained by law to service the imperial grain fleet, while the Jews were free to seek more profitable ventures. In any case, Cyril resumed speaking against the Jewish community in his Paschal Sermon of 416 and the Jews remain an important nemesis in his later writings, which presumes the resumption of normal relations between Jews and Christians in Alexandria.185

22.3.2 Jews of Persia The Jews of Persia fared well under Yazdgird I and his successor Bahram V. According to a Pahlavi writing called “The Provincial Capitals of Iran,” Yazdgird I is said to have married a certain Soshandukht, daughter of the exilarch, and she was the mother of Bahram V.186 There is no trace of a Jewish Persian queen in the rabbinic record, but the silence may reflect the general embarrassment of the rabbis over an liaison they normally condemned but over which they may have secretly taken satisfaction. “Jewish queen” traditions are always suspect of fiction, for Jews of Persia were willing to laud a king who treated them well or make comparisons with his royal ancestors in Artaxerxes and Cyrus. But the fact of a Jewish consort to a Gentile king is entirely believable. One has only to recall the devotion of Titus to Berenice. It is likely that some women in the king’s harem favored Judaism, as some women everywhere did, and equally plausible that a Persian king would take an aristocratic Jewess into his harem. That an exilarch would agree to such a marriage speaks to the pragmatism of the Jewish aristocracy, rabbinic opinions notwithstanding. Rabbinic tradition does recall that king Yazdgird I received rabbis at court and treated them well. The king is even portrayed as knowing enough of the Jewish custom to adjust the belt of the exilarch, Huna bar Nathan, during an audience.187 Bahram V (420–438) was also highly regarded by the Jews. He is supposed to have spoken Hebrew, which is in line with his reputation for speaking several languages, including Arabic, Indian, and Greek.188 The leading rabbi of the day was Ashi (ca. 352–427), head of the school at Sura for over five decades. Ashi moved in the upper circles and served as mediator


between the Jews and the Persian government alongside the exilarchs. His rulings, like those of many aristocratic Jews before him, show that he appreciated the stability provided by the Persian government. Against a general view that Jews should not sell iron to Gentiles, Ashi ruled that Jews may sell iron to the Persians because they protected the Jews.189 His ability as leader and sage earned him a comparison with Judah the Prince: “since the days of Rabbi until R. Ashi we do not find learning, and high office combined in the same person.”190 Ashi’s place in history, however, lies in his massive compilation of the Babylonian oral commentary on the Mishnah, known as the Gemara, which comprises the Babylonian Talmud. The extent of Ashi’s work is obscure: “Rabbi and R. Nathan conclude the Mishnah, R. Ashi and Ravina conclude hora’ah [authentic teaching].”191 Ashi was probably the first to begin the codification, and with his colleague Ravina I, may have revised it more than once, or if his son, Ravina II ( fl. 460–500) is meant, then “Ravina” revised it a generation later. Ashi stands alone, however, in effecting the stability and prestige of the school at Sura so that it remained the center of the rabbinic movement for two centuries. Ravina I ( fl. 380–420), also a student of Rava, worked with Ashi on the Talmud compilation.192 He gained a reputation as a teacher and left Mahoza while Rava was still alive, to instruct others, though it is not known where he lived. Amemar II (d. 422) re-established a school in Nehardea, which had been neglected since it was destroyed in 259, and directed it for more than 30 years. He had been a teacher of Ashi and continued to work with him in developing laws.193 The identities of the exilarchs at this time are uncertain in the records. Kahana I may have followed Nathan II and held the position until 415. He was probably followed by Huna IV b. Nathan (415–442). According to tradition, the exilarch Huna IV retained close ties with Ashi and submitted himself and his court to the halakhic authority of Ashi.194 Huna IV consequently garnered a high reputation among the rabbis, both for his esteem with the government and for his knowledge of halakhah. On the Persian festivals, Huna and Ashi represented the Jews at the court of Yazdgird. According to a story related by Ashi, on one occasion during a court visit, the king noticed Huna’s vestment was disheveled and rearranged it, with the remark, “It is written of you, ‘You shall be a kingdom of Priests and a holy nation,’ and you ought therefore wear your robe as priests do.”195 When Amemar II learned of this, he said to Huna, “On you has been fulfilled the promise Kings shall be thy attendants” (Isa 49:23). As with most rabbinic anecdotes, it is difficult to presume historicity as recounted, but it suggests a Persian royal interest in upholding the prestige of the exilarch over the shah’s Jewish subjects. This corresponds closely to the prestige given the patriarch by the Roman emperors at this time, and it is not impossible that both empires competed for the Jewish popular opinion in the disputed boundary lands by elevating their respective Jewish leadership.

Chapter 23

The Sun Sets in the West and the Demise of the Jewish Patriarchate (420–455 c.e.)

23.1 Rome and Persia 23.1.1 Roman Empire Honorius, emperor of the West, died in 423 without issue or other lasting credits to his name. During his reign Rome had fallen momentarily to the Visigoths, Britain was lost, and tax revenue substantially reduced. The Western empire, thus weakened, slowly broke apart. Before his death, Honorius elevated his magister militum and husband of his half-sister Galla Placidia, Constantius III, to Augustus in 421. The son of Constantius, and sole male heir, Valentinian (III), was in line to become the next emperor of the West. Constantius died later that year, however, and court intrigue forced Galla Placidia to flee to the East in 423. When Honorius died soon after, opponents of Galla Placidia declared a minor official named John to be emperor. In 424, Theodosius II declared Valentinian emperor and raised an army to take back the throne. By 425, the ursurper John was dispatched by Flavius Aetius, a senior general under Honorius. Aetius had summoned the Huns, with whom he had lived as a hostage, and even though they arrived too late to be involved, Galla Placidia paid them off. The 6-year-old Valentinian III (425–455) took the throne in the West under the regency of Aetius, who would be the effective ruler for the next 30 years. The early years of Valentinian saw a power struggle between his strongmen, principally Aetius and Bonifatius and Sebastianus. At stake was control of the rich tax base of Africa, but that too was lost in 429, when the Vandals swept across the straits of Gibraltar and swiftly invaded North Africa. 23.1.1.1 Theodosius II The judgment of modern historians upon the long reign of Theodosius II (408– 450) has not been as favorable as that of the church historians, Socrates, who wrote during the emperor’s reign, or Sozomen, who dedicated his nine-book Ecclesiastical History to the emperor of the East. Modern historians accuse him, and not without some justification, of ignoring the affairs of state while immersing himself in theology. The Christian historian Socrates, however, describes the emperor Theodosius


as truly Christian in character, yet the equal of the philosopher king, Ptolemy Philadelphus, so eulogized by Philo in his day. In the first place then, this prince though born and nurtured to empire, was neither stultified nor effeminated by the circumstances of his birth and education. He evinced so much prudence, that he appeared to those who conversed with him to have acquired wisdom from experience. Such was his fortitude in undergoing hardships, that he would courageously endure both heat and cold; fasting very frequently, especially on Wednesdays and Fridays; and this he did from an earnest endeavor to observe with accuracy all the prescribed forms of the Christian religion. He rendered his palace little different from a monastery: for he, together with his sisters, rose early in the morning, and recited responsive hymns in praise of the Deity. By this training he learnt the holy Scriptures by heart; and he would often discourse with the bishops on scriptural subjects, as if he had been an ordained priest of long standing. He was a more indefatigable collector of the sacred books and of the expositions which had been written on them, than even Ptolemy Philadelphus had formerly been.196

Theodosius II was but a boy of seven when he succeeded his father Arcadius in 408. Yazdgird I kept his promise to Arcadius and sent the eunuch Antiochus to watch over the lad, but as a boy emperor, he served the cause of a dynastic figurehead and perhaps never grew out of it. His sister Pulcheria, older by 2 years, kept a strong influence over him all his life. By the time Valentinian III came to the Western throne in 425, Theodosius had married a strong woman, Athenias, daughter of a Hellenic Athenian nobleman and instructor in Greek at the University of Athens. Upon being chosen as empress, Athenais, a well-educated Hellene, received baptism and changed her name to Aelia Eudocia (423–460). Theodosius preferred peace to war, and he thought peace could be bought with gold. During the first years of his reign, the Praetorian prefect, Anthemius, built an outer ring of walls around Constantinople that withstood barbarian threats for many years to come, but at the same time he distanced the imperial court from the troubled frontiers.197 His generals had repelled a Persian invasion in 422, but the growing threat of the Huns in the north required action. The Huns were mostly a loose horde of clans from the Russian steppes that occasionally united around a leader. Such a leader arose around 425, king Rugila, with whom Theodosius could negotiate. Theodosius and his advisers sought to pacify the Huns by paying 350 pounds of gold a year to Rugila. This lasted for a decade. When Rugila died in 435, two nephews, one called Attila, succeeded him. The payment of gold was doubled, but by 441, while Theodosius was occupied with Persia in the east and the Vandals in Africa, the Huns attacked the Balkans. Theodosius agreed to an exorbitant settlement in 443, paying 6000 pounds of gold and tripling the annual subsidy. Attila had his brother executed, and in 447 he again invaded the Balkans, threatening Greece and even Constantinople. This time Theodosius granted lands along the middle Danube and continued with the payment of gold. In 450, Theodosius fell off his horse while hunting and died. As he left no male heir, Pulcheria and her chief adviser, Aspar, settled on a Thracian commander named Marcian as successor. The 52-year-old virgin empress married him in order

The Sun Sets in the West and the Demise of the Jewish Patriarchate 531

to help establish his legitimacy. Overall, the reign of Theodosius II was tranquil, if humiliatingly expensive, and permitted the theologian king to devote his energy and passion to the peace of Christianity, which, alas, could not be bought with gold. Theodosius II is best known for establishing the University of Constantinople in 425, his code of law called the Codex Theodosius, and like his grandfather, convening an ecumenical council at Ephesus in 431. 23.1.1.2 Valentinian III When Marcian succeeded Theodosius as emperor of the East, he refused the annual subsidy to Attila. Rather than attack Constantinople, Attila moved on to easier pickings. In fact, the West drew him. Honoria, the older sister of Valentinian, was being forced into a marriage she did not desire, and in despair she appealed to Attila to rescue her. As a token of earnest she sent her ring, which Attila took as a marriage proposal, and immediately he demanded that Valentinian surrender Honoria along with half his kingdom as her dowry. Although both Galla Placidia and Theodosius advised Valentinian to comply, at least to give over Honoria, he refused, and it is unlikely that Honoria, upon sober reflection, wished to escape one bad marriage by consummating another. Attila invaded Gaul. Paris resisted him, and Aetius organized an army allied with Theodoric, king of the Visigoths, that defeated Attila. The following year, Attila marched into northern Italy still claiming Honoria and her dowry. The Huns sacked a number of cities and razed Aquileia. Valentinian fled to Rome. Leo I, bishop of Rome, and two senators rode north to parlay with Attila. The substance of the encounter is not preserved, except by Prosper of Aquitania, who in his Chronicle says, “The whole embassy was received with honor, and the king [Attila] so pleased at the presence of the chief Christian priest, that he gave orders to desist from the war, and, with a promise of peace, departed across the Danube.”198 Attila’s army was soon afflicted by a plague and lack of supplies. The Huns marched back over the Alps to their Hungarian territory. In 453, while indulging himself with a new young wife, Attila burst a blood vessel and died in his bed.199 Without their leader, the Huns dissolved into clans and vanished from history. Valentinian soon resented the power of Aetius and imagined his general was conspiring against him, apparently on the grounds that he had no son to succeed him and the general had put forth his own son as husband to Valentinian’s daughter, Eudocia. Valentinian summoned Aetius and by his own hand murdered him. A member of the court declared Valentinian had cut off his right hand with his left. The verdict was prophetic, for within a few months, supporters of Aetius murdered Valentinian and elevated Petronius Maximus, a senior senator, to the throne. Petronius married the widow Licinia Eudoxia and offered his son to her daughter Eudocia. But the princess Eudocia was already pledged to Huneric, son of the Vandal king Gaiseric, and the Vandals took the occasion to invade Italy. Again, Leo I intervened, but this time he could only prevent a human massacre. Vandals plundered the city of Rome for two weeks in 455 with so great a loss of property and slaves from the youths who pleased them that a word was coined in their memory.


Beyond that, the importance of the city of Rome had declined to the point that its desecration barely caused a ripple in the recollection of the historians.

23.1.2 Persian Empire Bahram V (420–438) is known in Arab sources as Gor, “the wild ass,” reputedly for his love of the hunt, though possibly his untamed demeanor, or both. After the contentious reign of Yazdgird, Zoroastrian priests led by Mihr-Narseh prevailed upon his son Bahram to resume persecution of the Christians. Thousands of Christians took sanctuary in the Byzantine Empire. When Bahram demanded their extradition, Theodosius II refused, and during 421 various skirmishes followed, in which Theodosius was largely successful. Peace came the following year by a treaty granting Christians freedom of worship in Sasanian lands, and the same for Zoroastrians—of which there were few—in Roman territory. Theodosius also agreed to make the annual payments to Bahram for defense of the Caucasus against the Huns. Armenia remained a troubled region. Bahram appointed a king from the old Arsacid nobility, but after a few years the Armenian nobles requested a new king, and Bahram obliged with a Persian governor in 428. The Armenian nobles were satisfied, but the Christian clergy were not, and the catholicos, Isaac (Sahak), led an opposition against the governor. Isaac was imprisoned for a while, then released, and the Armenian church remained peaceful, if dissatisfied, for the remainder of Bahram’s reign. Yazdgird II (438–457) succeeded his father to the Sasanian throne and immediately made war on the Byzantine Rome in order to control Nisibis against Roman encroachment on the frontier. Theodosius, however, would not indulge the young king and entered into negotiations. The status quo was preserved, and Yazdgird turned his attention to the northeastern frontier. While the Romans were occupied with Attila, the Persians faced the menacing Hephthalites, a nomadic people known from Chinese sources to have come out of Central Asia.200 The Hephtalites (also called White Huns) had already threatened in 427, but Bahram V defeated their first incursion. The threat was so great that Yazdgird spent the years 442–449 in annual campaigns across the Oxus River. After regaining his supremacy in the east, Yazdgird attempted to stabilize Armenia. Despite the official state religion of Christianity, there remained numerous Zoroastrians, and Yazdgird, apparently at the instigation of the long-time royal minister Mihr-Narseh, sought to convert the entire land to Zoroastrianism. Although some of the Armenian nobility sided with Mihr-Narseh, most Christians did not. In 450, the catholicos Joseph led the Christians in armed opposition, which was more a civil war among the Armenian princes than a revolt against Sasanian hegemony. The Christians appealed to Theodosius, but in vain. The following year, 451, an Armenian noble, Vardan “the Red” led the Christians in the battle of Avarair against a superior Sasanian army. The result was an infamous slaughter of the Armenian Christians and further captivity and martyrdom of Armenian clergy in Persia.201


Within Persia, Yazdgird II also permitted Mihr-Narseh liberty to reform the Mazdean cult. Mihr-Narseh built a new fire temple for himself, and one for each of his sons. In due course, the revival of Zoroastrianism led to renewed suppression of the other religions.

23.2 Christians 23.2.1 The Sun Sets in the West About 4 years before his death, Augustine completed his opus magnum, The City of God. A work of 22 volumes, he began writing in 413 and published it in installments, until its completion in 426. Augustine responded to the repeated accusation of Hellenic intellectuals that Christians were responsible for the sack of Rome by Alaric because the gods of Rome had ceased to be worshiped. Augustine contrasted pagan society, as “Babylon,” with the City of God, or “heavenly Jerusalem.” His critique of pagan Rome drew heavily from the history of the Roman republic written by Sallust (ca. 86–35 b.c.e.), which described Roman society as “utterly wicked and profligate” in which oppressive measures of powerful men had existed from the first.202 Augustine had no difficulty demonstrating that disasters befell Rome when it worshiped its traditional gods, and he repeats the arguments made by Tertullian and Arnobius against similar accusations. Having refuted the Hellenic charge, he goes on to describe the history of the world in six stages, always under the providence of God. The sixth is the present age of Christ, the seventh age is yet to come. The City of God, from Ps 46 and Ps 48, is the church of God.203 The two cities are necessarily intermingled, but Christians hold their citizenship in heaven (Phil 3:20), even as they gradually build the City of God on earth. What distinguished Christians from other citizens of Rome is that Christians give worship (in his Latin prose, he specifies the Greek word latreia) only to God.204 Augustine’s last work, excluding letters, was his Rectractions, written in 428, in which he corrected errors of his previous writings based on his mature meditations and defended the doctrines he still believed to be the truth. Having settled his intellectual legacy, he prepared himself to leave Babylon and enter the heavenly Jerusalem. The mark of true faith, he had written, is the heart’s yearning for God. The invasion of the Vandals across North Africa reached Hippo in 429. While the city was under siege, and surrounded by a few refugee bishops, Augustine took to his bed. He placed copies of the penitential Psalms in view and repeated them through his tears. On August 28, 430, as his biographer Possidius says, “while we stood by and watched and prayed, ‘he slept with his fathers,’ as it is written, ‘wellnourished in a good old age.’ ”205 While the Christian doctrinal battles raged in this generation, Christianity reached the westernmost frontier of the known world. The island of Ireland had never been subject to the Roman Empire, but merchants from Irish ports traded with Britons and were known to Roman soldiers in the second century. Christianity probably reached Ireland from south Wales in the fourth century, for by 431 Bishop


Celestine sent a certain Palladius, a deacon in Gaul, to serve as the first bishop of a Christian community in Ireland, even as another emissary, Coelestine, sought to rid Britain of Pelagianism. Palladius and his community, however, were to be overshadowed by a native of Britain. Patrick ( fl. 430–460?), in his Confession, says he hailed from British gentry, and Christian stock. Though his grandfather was a priest and his father a deacon, Patrick did not take his faith seriously. Around age sixteen, he was captured by Irish pirates and worked as the slave of an Irish farmer. After 6 years he escaped and made his way through many a danger to Gaul, and later back to Britain and home. But there in the safety of his estate, he was struck one night by the vision of a man coming from Ireland with a bundle of letters. As he read the heading of one, “The Voice of the Irish,” he heard them calling for him to walk among them again. Pondering his vision in prayer, Patrick believed God was sending him back as “a light among the nations, to be a means of salvation to the ends of the earth.” Thus he took up his calling and returned to Ireland. In so doing, he is credited as the first Christian to go beyond the frontiers of the Roman Empire with the express mission to convert the pagans. Whether he was such a pioneer or not, up to that time Christianity appears to have spread as Judaism spread, by migration and merchant trade, and upon the request of established Christian communities bishops were sent out. Christianity had reached the Goths by slaves, and no doubt many a merchant, slave, or wayfarer spread Christianity as they went, but the church had never commissioned missionaries to reach the ends of the earth until Patrick took up the call on his own. We have his word only that he traveled Ireland over the rest of his life, preaching, baptizing, and establishing Christian communities. For reasons that are not clear, Patrick used Latin only in teaching the Scripture and made no attempt to translate it into Old Irish. Christians, therefore, were required to learn Latin, and by this means, over the next century, Latin became the language of education in Ireland, centered in monasteries. Little beyond his Confession is historically sound, though legends have been heaped upon him. The two most endearing stories are that Patrick explained the Trinity by comparison with the three-leaf clover and drove the snakes out of Ireland. Already in the third century, the Roman geographer Solinus reported that Ireland had no snakes.206 And if Patrick did use the clover as a teaching aid, it remained a secret until the seventeenth century. Even the dates of his life are uncertain, although the fifth century is reasonably secure. There is no reliable connection between Patrick and Palladius, but Ireland was a large enough land that a bishop and an itinerant missionary may never have met.

23.2.2 Christological Storm The theologies of Origen and Pelagius had been pronounced dead among the powerful sees of Christendom, though supporters of each continued to defend and advance certain views. But a more serious and divisive controversy over the nature of Christ remained unsettled. In what sense was Jesus human, and in what sense


divine? The theological debate was maintained primarily by two schools of thought, one centered at Antioch, the other at Alexandria. A group of theologians, of which John Chrysostom had been a leader, reached their prime in the early fifth century, and became the leading lights of the school at Antioch—the Antiochenes. John Chrysostom carried the Antiochene torch until his death in 407. The second leading light was John’s friend, Theodore, bishop of Mopsuestia. Another Antiochene was Nestorius, who may have studied under Theodore. Like Chrysostom, his gift of oratory eventually brought him to the see of Constantinople. The exegetical tradition of the Antiochene school is marked by a literal reading and historical interpretation of Scripture. In theology, the school emphasized the humanity of Jesus. The principal theological opponents of the Antiochenes came from Alexandria, where the approach to Scripture and theology has likewise been called by the modern designation, the Alexandrian school. This school remained heavily influenced by Platonic tradition, which emphasized the reality of the spiritual realm at the expense of the physical world. It followed the lead of Origen in favoring allegorical exegesis of Scripture, and it stressed the divinity of Christ, as well as the unity of his person. Its leading voice was Cyril of Alexandria. The novel theology of Apollinarius that denied Jesus had a human mind or soul capable of development, arguing rather for the assumption of a complete human nature by the divine Logos, had been condemned by Rome (377), Alexandria (378), Antioch (379), and the Council of Constantinople (381). Nevertheless, Apollinarianism persisted in various forms, and the Antiochenes continued their polemic against it. Diodore of Tarsus emphasized the full humanity assumed by the divine Logos, “the Word was made flesh,” and thereafter, the radical distinction between the humanity and divinity in Jesus Christ became the foundation of the Antiochene school. Their weakness was that they had not found a good way to express the union of these two natures in one person. Alexandrians accused them of splitting Christ, and the central problem became the nature of the union of the two natures of Jesus. Theodore of Mopsuestia took up the Antiochene cause. He argued that the presence of God is available to all humanity, but the indwelling of God comes to but a few, the saints. God indwells humans, notably the apostles and all saints, according to his good pleasure. But Jesus was unique, for in him the fullness of God dwelt, as in a son. What is the significance of this “as in a son”? It is an indwelling in which he united the one who was being assumed wholly to himself and prepared him to share all the honour which he, the indweller, who is a son by nature shares. Thereby he has constituted a single person by union with him and has made him a partner in all his authority.207

Theodore died in 428, the year the patriarchal see of Constantinople became vacant. Emperor Theodosius II and his council sought to fill the important political position with a neutral outsider. They brought in a certain presbyter from the church of Antioch named Nestorius, a student of Theodore known for his preaching eloquence. Nestorius considered it his primary duty to wipe out lingering heresies. He began by dismantling a small church used by Arians. Rather than give it up,


they set fire to their chapel, and the fire spread to the city, and blame spread to the new patriarch. By attacking other groups of soft heretics, Novatians, Apollinarians, and even lingering Quartodecimans who still celebrated the Dominical Pascha according to the Jewish calendar, he made himself unpopular without making many friends among the orthodox. When his presbyter Anastasius preached against the dangers of the traditional title Theotokos (“mother of God”) for the Virgin Mary, which had virtually deified her, Nestorius supported him, and soon he found himself battling his own orthodox church. The title Theotokos had long been used as a devotional term by theologians, including Origen and Eusebius of Caesarea, and was now becoming popular among the masses in support of the growing cult of the Virgin. Nestorius argued that if theotokos was coupled with a second title anthropokos (“mother of man”) it was acceptable, or it was better to use christokos (“the bearer of Christ”), because the name Christ already expressed the two natures. But his criticism of theotokos incurred a popular backlash by those who loved the name for the Blessed Virgin. Opponents charged Nestorius of denying the full deity of Christ, of splitting Christ in two. It may be said that the entire school of Antioch did not appreciate the subtle practice generally accepted in the West, known as the communicatio idiomatum. According to this practice, because of the close union of the human and divine in Christ, the properties of one could be applied to the other. Therefore, in giving birth to the human baby Jesus, Mary could be said to have borne God. Likewise, the divine Logos could be crucified in Jesus Christ, and God suffered. The theology was probably resolvable, but now a power struggle was already in play. Within a short time, Bishop Cyril of Alexandria, who saw an opportunity to check the power of the see of Constantinople, pronounced his Twelve Anathemas on Nestorius. Theodoret of Cyrrhus (ca. 393–460) was commissioned to respond to Cyril and did so. The dispute grew and involved Bishop Celestine of Rome, who sided with Cyril. In November of 431, Theodosius called a council in Ephesus to address the question of theotokos. When the bishops of the East were delayed by rain and floods, Cyril of Alexandria ignored a request to delay the council, and backed by his own majority, he condemned, deposed, and excommunicated Nestorius. The title “Theotokos” was formally installed: henceforth, Mary, mother of God. Nestorius begged leave to retire to his monastery of Saint Eurepius at the walls of Antioch, to which Theodosius gratefully gave his blessing. Theodosius issued an edict that all the writings of Nestorius be burned, and his followers were declared heretics, to be known as Simonians after the archheretic Simon Magus. Nestorius was banished in 435 to Petra in Arabia, then to Oasis in Egypt, where the hard life brought him to an early death. He was able, however, to write his own version of the conflict, The Bazaar of Heracleides.208 The influence and theology of Nestorius would go on within the church, and his legacy would survive as an independent branch of Christianity. The title “Theotokos” was eventually lost in the dispute of the essence of Jesus Christ, whether he had two natures, one human and one divine, or one nature, somehow in a human-divine unity. Within 2 years, John, bishop of Antioch, secured a peace with Alexandria in the Formula of Reunion, which confirmed that Christ is unified in two natures,


both truly God and truly human, “consubstantial (homoousios) with the Father in Godhead, and consubstantial with us in manhood.”209 To attain the peace, the Antiochenes conceded the use of theotokos and gave up on Nestorius. In return, Cyril dropped his Twelve Anathemas. But even with communion restored between East and West, the power rivalry of the patriarchates continued into a second act, with a new cast of characters. Leo I took the cathedra of Rome in 440. John of Antioch died in 442 and was followed by his weak nephew Domnus. Cyril of Alexandria died in 444, to be replaced by the equally intractable Dioscorus, former archdeacon of Alexandria. The death of Patriarch Proclus of Constantinople in 446 brought Flavian to the position. Dioscorus was determined to carry on the mission of Cyril to undermine the see of Constantinople. Each of these leaders might draw on a host of bishops, and in any case, had to answer to them for whatever decisions were made. In 447, Domnus of Antioch accused Eutyches, the 70-year-old archimandrite of an important monastery in Constantinople, of heresy for proclaiming Christ had a single nature (physis) after the union of God and man, a nature that was not consubstantial with humanity. The piety of old Eutyches was unassailable, but he had not the capacity for such subtleties of theology. Unable to grasp the concept of two natures in a single being, he denied that the human body of Christ was consubstantial with sinful humans. With Pandora’s box reopened, a series of confrontations and councils ensued. A synod of Constantinople in 448 condemned Eutyches, to which Dioscorus responded by obtaining a council at Ephesus by the summons of the emperor, without consulting Leo. While Attila threatened the northern frontier of the empire, Leo sent a letter in June of 449 to Flavian, patriarch of Constantinople, containing his doctrinal statement, to be known as the Tome of Leo, in which the Christology of the Latin West, from Tertullian to Augustine, was clearly expressed: Jesus Christ is one person, in whom are two natures, divine and human, permanently united, unconfused and unmixed. He wrote: Each form, in communion with the other, performs the function that is proper to it; that is, the Word performing what belongs to the Word, and the flesh carrying out what belongs to the flesh. The one sparkles with miracles, the other succumbs to injuries. And as the Word ceases not to be on an equality with the Father’s glory, so the flesh does not forgo the nature of our race. For—a fact which must be repeated again and again—one and the same is truly Son of God, and truly Son of Man. “He is God,” inasmuch as in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. “Man” because all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made. “Man” inasmuch as he was made of woman, made under the law.210

The council at Ephesus in August of 449 was controlled by Dioscorus of Alexandria, who upheld the argument of Cyril: “We say that the two natures are united. But after the union a separation into two beings does not occur. Therefore, we believe that there is one nature of the Son because there is one who has become a man with flesh.”211 The single nature of Christ after the union would soon be known as Monophysitism (mono physis = one nature). The council acquitted Eutyches of


heresy, deposed Patriarch Flavian along with other bishops, and ignored the statement of Leo, for which the session earned from Leo, and for posterity, the title Latrocinium (“Robber Council”). But the see of Peter was not so easily dismissed. The following year Theodosius II fell off his horse and died. Pulcheria chose her new consort, Marcian. Among his first acts he called a new council, held at Chalcedon in 451. At stake was whether Christ had one or two natures, and the consequent efficacy of his death to the salvation of humanity. At this time in the development of Christian theology, it was assumed by most that Christ could save only what he had himself assumed of the human being. As Gregory Nanzianzus had said, “That which is unassumed is unhealed.”212 If Christ assumed only the body of man, and not the soul, then only the body, not the soul, could be saved. The Council of Chalcedon brought some 600 bishops together, and its five sessions went from August into October of 451. The intrigues played themselves out, but in the end, it came down to Leo or Dioscorus. Constantinople and Rome were now united against the extremes of both Antioch and Alexandria. Leo’s Tome, accepted by Flavian, was the compromise between the theology of Antioch, which emphasized the humanity of Jesus, and the theology of Alexandria, which emphasized the divinity of Jesus. The bishops by and large chose the path of Leo. They condemned the council of Ephesus of 449 along with Dioscorus, who was banished to the island of Gangra, off the southern coast of the Black Sea. The council nominated a select committee to draw up a new statement of faith that became known as the Definition of Chalcedon. Its purpose, given the limits of human vocabulary and the necessity of working in three languages, Latin, Greek, and Syriac, was to set a boundary to theological speculation on the nature of Christ rather than provide an exact theological statement. Essentially it concluded that Christ has two natures but only one person or hypostatsis. When the definition was read, the bishops responded, “This is the faith of the fathers!” Despite approval by the bishops, the hardline Antiochenes and Alexandrians hunkered down and prepared for the battles ahead, which would rise up during the next century in the Monophysite (one nature) and Monothelite (one will) controversies. Riots erupted in Alexandria and Jerusalem led by the anti-Chalcedonian monks. In Palestine a certain Theodosius was elected as a rival patriarch to Juvenal (422–458).213 Throughout the city of Constantinople in the public square debate continued. Early in 452, Emperor Marcian issued an edict banning further controversy: At last that which we wished, with earnest prayer and desire, has come to pass. Controversy about orthodox religion (lex) of Christians has been put away; remedies at length have been found for culpable error, and diversity of opinion among the peoples has issued in common consent and concord. From the different provinces the most religious bishops came to Chalcedon in accordance with our commands, and have taught by clear definition what ought to be observed in the matter of religion. Therefore, let profane wrangling cease!214

The council had issued 28 canons dealing with church policy. Canon 28 built on the voice of the Council of Constantinople that the church of the New Rome


was second only to the church of Old Rome. Now, Constantinople received equal privileges: judging with reason, that the city which was honored with the sovereignty and senate, and which enjoyed equal privileges with the elder royal Rome, should also be magnified like her in ecclesiastical matters, being the second after her.215

The see of Constantinople also assumed jurisdiction over all bishops in Pontus, Asia Minor, and Thracia, as well as bishops formerly ordained by them among the barbarians. Attempts were immediately made to secure Leo’s acceptance of this canon, but he refused. Primacy, he argued, was based on apostolic, not imperial, authority. He was particularly incensed that the apostolic sees of Alexandria (founded by Mark) and Antioch (founded by Peter) should be under the authority of Constantinople (founded by nobody). In May of 452, Leo annulled canon 28. Meanwhile, in the Syrian East, monastic asceticism reached new heights. In 412, a monk called Simeon moved to the village of Telanissus, near Antioch, to pursue his anchorite life of solitude. His spiritual patronage as a holy man led the villagers to call him “the lion,” and his sanctity attracted many seeking his counsel. By 422, he had become so famous that pilgrims thronged him, and some even tore away a patch of his garment as a relic. He decided to build a low pillar from which he could minister. Progressively he raised the pillar until it was 60 feet. There he lived for the remaining years of his life until 459, and he became known as Simeon Stylites (Greek stylos, “pillar”), the pillar ascetic. His innovative approach to meditation only increased his fame, and he became a powerful figure in the Christian world of his age, converting people far and wide, advising Christians in person or by letter, and championing orthodoxy.216 More monks took up his style, and stylite asceticism was born. Still others, known as dendrites, lived in trees.

23.2.3 Edessa and the Nestorian Controversy The city of Edessa, with all its ancient claims of Christian origins, had become the theological gateway between the Western church and the Syriac-speaking Church of the East throughout eastern Asia Minor and Armenia. The school of Edessa had begun under the leadership of Ephrem Syrus when he led his scholars out of Nisibis in 363 after the city was handed over to Persia. Stocked by Persian Christian refugees, the school was known as the School of the Persians. The scholars of Edessa had translated many Greek works from the West into Syriac and thereby made known Western theology, along with its disputes, to the Church of the East. When the controversy between Cyril of Alexandria and Nestorius came to a head at the Council of Ephesus in 431, Syrian clergy were involved. Rabbula, bishop of Edessa (412–437), was, according to tradition, the son of a wealthy pagan priest, but a Christian mother. Influenced by Eusebius, bishop of Chalcis, and Acacius, bishop of Aleppo, he followed the Christian faith, and after giving away his wealth he entered the monastery of Abraham at Chalcis. Rabbula, along with his leading presbyter, Ibas, supported Nestorius against Cyril at the


Council of Ephesus (431). But soon after, Rabbula changed his views and supported Cyril. Whether this was an act of conviction or expediency, Rabbula burned the Syriac translations of the works of Theodore of Mopsuestia and sent its translator, Ibas, into exile. John of Antioch excommunicated Rabbula, but after John made peace with Cyril in the Formula of Reunion, Rabbula was reinstated. In his last years, Rabbula translated some works of Cyril into Syriac, and by this he laid the foundations for the Monophysite Syriac literature of the next generations. He was credited with a translation of the entire New Testament, but more likely he supervised the project, done by scholars more adept in Greek. In 435, upon the death of Rabbula, Ibas returned from exile and was elected bishop of Edessa. Ibas appointed a leading scholar, Narsai, to be the head of the School of Edessa. Both remained faithful to the theology of Theodore of Mopsuestia and supported the leading Antiochene theologian of the day, Theodoret of Cyrrhus (369–460). Ibas was condemned by the Council of Ephesus in 449, but when his chief accuser, Dioscorus, was condemned and deposed in 451, Ibas and Theodoret were reinstated on condition they anathematize Nestorius, which they did. Ibas resumed his episcopacy until his death in 457 but had to wage a constant battle with a growing anti-Nestorian sentiment at Edessa and throughout Roman Syria. During his exile, around 433, Ibas wrote a letter to Maris, a Persian bishop, in which he sent a copy of the Formula of Reunion and described Cyril as an Apollinarian. The letter would become famous a hundred years later and is all that survived of his writings.

23.2.4 Christians of Persia: Independence and Persecution Synods of the Persian church were held in 420 and 424. During this generation of relative peace, the church had expanded into the central and eastern realms dominated by Zoroastrianism. According to some evidence, the city of Merv on the trade route to Central Asia in modern Uzbekistan may have been introduced to Christianity as early as 360 by Bishop Bar Shabba, and a bishop from Merv now came to represent his flock. Mar Yahballaha became the grand metroplitan around 415. King Yazdgird sent Yahballaha as emissary to Emperor Theodosius, demonstrating the diplomatic value of the new head of the Persian Christians. While in Constantinople, Yahballaha confirmed the common faith of Christians in both Persia and the Roman Empire. Soon after, the Eastern bishop, Acacius of Amid, served as the ambassador of Theodosius to Persia. At this time, and perhaps due to the absence of Yahballaha from the capital of Seleucia-Ctesiphon, discord had arisen among the Persian churches. In 420, ten bishops petitioned Yahbalaha to reaffirm the discipline of the canons of 410 and to incorporate the canons of other Western synods in order to bring the Persian church into accord with the West. The Synod of 420 attempted to confirm the discipline of the church, and in order to retain a sense of unity with their Christian brethren, they accepted en bloc the canons of various synods of the West, of Ancyra (314), Neocaesaria (314–325), Antioch (341), Gangra (343), and Laodicea (ca. 365).


The following year, under the reign of the new Shah-an-shah, Bahram V, tension and conflict between the Christians and the Zoroastrian clergy resumed. The immediate cause was the border skirmishes between Bahram and Theodosius, largely caused by Christians fleeing from Persia to the West. The question of Christian loyalty to the Persian Empire was central, and it appears that Christians themselves were divided over their loyalty to the Persian state and the Christian church. The new metropolitan, Dadisho, was accused of sympathy with Rome, and imprisoned. When peace between Theodosius and Bahram came in 422, Dadisho was released. He returned to his monastery, hoping to resign as metropolitan. The Synod of 424 convened to deal with leadership problems that had occurred. The authorities in attendance were the Grand Metropolitan, 5 metropolitans (archbishops), and 31 bishops. It reinstated Dadisho I (421–56) as grand metropolitan and now gave the title catholicos (later called patriarch) to the supreme head of the Church of the East. The metropolitan Agapet of Beth Lapat, in his speech to the synod, explained that the aid and oversight formerly given by the patriarchates in the West, Antioch and Constantinople, were no longer possible or necessary. You know, assembled Fathers, each time schism and discord have existed among us, the Western Fathers have been the support and help of this patriarchal authority, to whom we all, as but disciples and children, are bound and attached, like members of the whole body are to the head, the queen of these members. They have delivered and freed us from the persecutions stirred up against our Fathers and against us by the magi, thanks to the ambassadors, whom they sent in our favor at diverse times. And now that persecution and suffering so press upon us, circumstances do not permit them to occupy themselves with us as before. But, like beloved children and diligent heirs, we must ourselves endeavor to sustain and aid ourselves by means of the authority that is over us . . . the catholicos Mar Daisho, who for us is Peter, chief of our ecclesiastical assembly. Pray, therefore, and supplicate our Father [God] . . . so that our Father will be touched with pity toward us, and hear our request, that he will return to his fatherly seat and he will rule over us, according to the precept of Christ to Peter, chief of the Apostles.217

The autonomy of the Church of the East (or Persian church) that had been established in 410 was now evident and official. While accepting the Nicene Creed and the results of other synods, the Church of the East recognized itself independent of the Church in the Roman Empire. The catholicos answered only to God. The independent Persian church received its own baptism of fire. Persecution of Christians that had resumed in the last years of Yazdgird I continued in varying degrees of intensity under Bahram V (421–438), Yazdgird II (438–457), and into the reign of Peroz (459–484). Various incidents, like the destruction of fire temples, sparked local persecutions, but the main reasons, as already noted, were the expansion of Christians across the Persian Empire, which distressed the Zoroastrian clergy, and the question of Christian loyalty to the Persian crown. Theodoret speaks of “a tempest which stirred fierce and cruel waves against the nurslings of the true faith, and when thirty years had gone by the agitation still remained kept up by the magi, as the sea is kept in commotion by the blasts of furious winds.”218 Some of the


Christians were from Persian nobility, such as one called Hormisdas, the son of a prefect. Theodoret describes the tortures, from flaying the skin off parts of the body, to lowering Christians bound hand and foot into pits to be eaten alive by hungry mice. In 446, Yazdgird II initiated a massacre of the Persian Christians at Karka of Beth Selok that lasted several days. The number of slain, undoubtedly exaggerated, is said to have been 153,000.219

23.3 Jews 23.3.1 Demise of the Patriarchate At the start of the fifth century, Gamaliel the son of Judah IV became the patriarch. He is usually numbered as Gamaliel VI, though he may have been the seventh of that name. He was, in any case, the last patriarch. Very little is known about Gamaliel VI. Jewish sources mention the names of the last three patriarchs only in a medieval document. One medical writer of the fifth century named Marcellus, however, mentions a remedy for the spleen that was recently discovered through experiment by Gamaliel the patriarch, so we may suppose that Gamaliel, like many a sage, was learned in medicine.220 Gamaliel will have continued to negotiate his rule amid the laws issued during his time. Silence of our sources prevents more detail. The only other reference to him comes in a law issued in 415. Accordingly, Patriarch Gamaliel VI was reprimanded for ignoring certain laws and demoted in rank from the highest, Illustrious, to the comparatively lower, though still high, rank of Spectabilis. His father, Judah IV, had received the highest rank, but upon Gamaliel’s succession to the patriarchate, he probably inherited only the rank of Spectabilis. At some point thereafter, he was likely awarded the rank of Illustrious in his own right, and now he was demoted to his original rank of Spectabilis. Since Gamaliel supposed that he could transgress the law with impunity all the more because he was elevated to the pinnacle of dignities, Your Illustrious Authority shall know that Our Serenity has directed orders to the Illustrious Master of the Offices, that the appointment documents to the honorary prefecture shall be taken from him, so that he shall remain in the honour that was his before he was granted the prefecture; and henceforth he shall cause no synagogues to be founded, and if there are any in deserted places, he shall see to it that they are destroyed, if it can be done without sedition. He shall have no power to judge Christians; if any contention shall arise between them and Jews it shall be settled by the governors of the province. If he himself, or one of the Jews, shall attempt to defile a Christian or a member of any sect whatsoever, slave and freeman alike, with the Jewish mark of infamy [circumcision], he shall be subjected to the laws’ severity. If he holds slaves who partake of the Christian sanctity, they shall be handed over to the Church according to the law of Constantine.221

The matters listed in the new restrictions reflect the apparent abuses of Gamaliel’s power: a prohibition on the founding of new synagogues; synagogues in remote areas were to be destroyed, but only if riots could be avoided; the patriarch’s


right to judge Christians was revoked; trials between Jews and Gentiles should be held in local courts subject to the provincial governors; any Jew, including the patriarch, who converts a non-Jew to Judaism is liable to punishment; Christian slaves held by the patriarch are to be transferred to the church. Only the last two items were demonstrably illegal at this time, and we do not know what cases may have reached the court that resulted in this decree. The law should be seen as a combination of patriarchal overreaching along with efforts by Christian, and possibly Jewish, clergy within Palestine to curb the power of the patriarch. Two weeks later, on November 6, another law was issued, this time addressed to “the Didascalus Annas and to the Heads of the Jews (Maioribus Iudaeorum),” which confirmed the right of Jews to hold Christian slaves on condition the slaves are allowed to remain Christians.222 Another law also addressed to Annas and the Heads of the Jews in 416 dealt with Jews who converted to Christianity in order to avoid taxes, granting them the right to return to Judaism, which apparently the Jewish community rejected, making the law necessary. Both laws were issued at Ravenna, Italy, and Annas may have been the chief representative of the Jews in Italy, but we have no evidence to his identity. The most likely audience, however, is the Jewish communities of Italy who will have brought cause or legal complaint to Ravenna. It may be significant that both laws are not addressed to the patriarch, and on this basis some scholars, without further evidence, date the end of the patriarchate to 415. The next reference to the patriarchate is in 429. The law, given at Constantinople by Theodosius II and Valentinian III on May 30, 429, was addressed to Johannes, Comes of the Sacred Largesses, that is, head of the public treasury. The law directed the crown tax, formerly given to the patriarch, to be sent to the imperial treasury. The Primates of the Jews, who are nominated in the Synhedriis of either of the provinces of Palestine or stay in other provinces, shall demand an annual payment from all synagogues, on their responsibility and under the supervision of the Palatins, in the same way that the patriarchs used in the past to demand under the name of Crown Gold; and that which used to be transmitted from the Western regions to the patriarchs should be entered in our Largesses.223

There is no indication from this or previous laws, as is often assumed, that the imperial government abolished the institution of the patriarchate. Indeed, given the importance of the position for governing the Jewish communities of the empire and the growing prestige accorded the patriarchate, the opposite should be expected. The absence of a male heir to Gamaliel VI appears to have been the primary cause. If that is an insufficient justification, it might also be thought that the patriarch had enemies among his own people, those who resented his power. It is perhaps telling that nothing is preserved in Jewish tradition about Gamaliel VI, no lamentation in rabbinic traditions. We have no record that the Jewish elite put forward another candidate, but if they did, the emperor did not confirm a new patriarch. The office of the patriarch had been a dynastic succession, and in the climate of the times, without such an heir, the office lost its ancient legitimacy. The silence in the rabbinic sources on the end of the patriarchate may be seen as indifference among


the rabbis in Babylonia, who were often at odds with their own exilarch. We know only that the dynasty attributed to Hillel the Elder, which lasted four centuries, came to an end. The new Jewish leaders are the primates and the Sanhedrins of the two provinces of Palestine, Palaestina Prima and Palaestina Secunda, and it appears that life for the Jews in Palestine after the patriarchate went on without significant disruption. Indeed, judging from synagogue remains, Jewish life flourished. Around this time, probably after the death of Gamaliel VI, the territory of Palestine was reorganized. Formerly, since the middle of the fourth century, it had been divided into Palaestina and Palaestina salutaris, divided along the limes defense which ran from the Mediterranean Sea just below Raphia (southern Gaza) and east through the Dead Sea into Arabia. Now the northern province of Palestine was again divided into Palaestina prima and Palaestina secunda. The larger Palaestina prima included Judaea and Samaria and the coastal plain from Raphia to Dora in the north, with its capital Caesarea. Palaestina secunda covered the Galilee, part of the Decapolis, and the Golan, with Tiberias its capital. The old southern province of Palaestina salutaris was renamed Palaestina tertia, and its capital remained Petra.

23.3.2 Laws against the Jews In 438, the courts of Theodosius II and Valentinius III issued a lengthy law (novela) that renewed many of the previous conditions on Jews, Samaritans, and heretics: these persons may not enter imperial employment; new synagogues may not be constructed, but old ones may be repaired; there is to be no proselytizing of slaves or free persons, and if anyone circumcises a Christian, the penalty is death and confiscation of property. Only the penalty of death is new. The rest repeats previous laws that had apparently been ignored for two or three generations, proving again the ineffectiveness of the laws attempting to control religious expression. The text of the law frankly admits that these restrictions are needed “lest the abominable sects proliferate wantonly in indiscriminate confusion in our lifetime.” We hear of the laws but very little of enforcement. In one case, however, it was enforced, and the fact that enforcement was necessary says a good deal about how the laws were ignored. The Jews of Constantinople who dwelt near the copper quarter constructed a new synagogue in 442 with tacit approval from the prefect of the city, a mere 4 years after the publication of the law. The synagogue was later appropriated by the emperor, and his wife Pulcheria converted it into a church, dedicated to Saint Mary.224 It is not clear whether Jews joined in the riots of Palestine and elsewhere that followed the Council of Chalcedon, but some anti-Chalcedon pamphlets were represented as coming from Jews, and it is certainly possible a few Jewish intellectuals wrote arguments against the Chalcedonian definition of Christ. It is almost certain that Jews in Constantinople spoke up against Chalcedon, for the edicts of Marcian issued in 452 against further wrangling also note that public lectures and debates are done under the watchful gaze of Jews and pagans.

The Sun Sets in the West and the Demise of the Jewish Patriarchate 545 Punishment against those contemning this law shall not be lacking, because they not only go out against the well established faith, but also uncover the august mysteries in front of Jews and pagans through such a controversy. If he who dares to debate about religion in public shall be a cleric, he shall be removed from the list of clerics. If adorned by an office, he shall be deprived of his belt. All the others, however, who are guilty of this charge, shall be driven out of this Imperial city by the verdict of the courts and suffer the appropriate penalties. For it is evident that the beginnings of the heretics’ madness and its firewood are furnished by such men, who lecture and debate in public.225

Lectures and debates over Christology (and politics) to crowds containing Jews and Hellenes tells us that the Christians against the Chalcedon definition sought support wherever it could be had, and one suspects that Jews were not merely bystanders. They were clearly engaged in the public square of Constantinople, and it is inconceivable that educated Jews, descendants of scribes and Pharisees, Philo and Josephus, did not add their own voices and scriptural support to the burning issue of their day on the side of their neighbors who favored a Nestorian or Monophysite view of Christ.

23.3.3 Jews of Persia Jewish life under Bahram V (420–438) and Yazdgird II (438–457) was relatively stable until 455. Huna IV (415–442) retained his good relations with the Persian kings and the leading rabbis. Like Judah I of Palestine, he was called “Rabbi” and therefore was impressively learned in rabbinic tradition. Despite being a master of Torah, he allowed sages to monitor his kitchen so as to insure the kashrut of his table at which many a sage and nobleman dined.226 A number of Talmudic stories report rabbis dining with the exilarchs and engaging in discussion. Mar Zutra I (442–455) succeeded his brother Huna IV. Mar Zutra’s chief adviser was Aha of Difti.227 Beyond that, little is known of him, and these are decades we pass over in silence. The school at Pumbedita during this generation was led by Rav Gebiha of Be Katil (ca. 419–433), Rafram II (ca. 433–443), and Rav Rihumai (ca. 443–449). The school at Sura, after the death of Ashi, was headed by Rabbi Yerirar (427–432), Rabbi Idi b. Abin II (432–452), and Rav Nahman b. Rav Huna (452–455).

Synthesis of Part Five

Jews and Christians III (312–455 c.e.)

S5.1 Jews and Christians in the Christian Empire The estrangement of Christians and Jews became official between 380 and 388. The edict Cunctos populos, published by Theodosius I in 380, established Christianity as the state religion. The brief age of religious pluralism begun by Constantine’s edict of toleration in 313 came to a close. Pagans and Jews, without losing their citizenship, became secondclass citizens in the sense of restricted access to imperial positions, a life most Jews had never sought. The law also laid the foundation for an imperial understanding of the Jews as a people unified by their religion, Judaism, wherever they might be within the empire. In 388, Theodosius prohibited marriage between Christians and Jews; a restriction advocated by most Jewish and Christian leaders all along was now bolstered by imperial law. The need to prohibit intermarriage, as with most laws, reveals the daily comings and goings of the masses whose interests lay closer to home. The law neither inhibited ardent lovers nor ended intermarriage, but it may have helped sustain the fence between the elite class of each community. Both laws are legal markers of the initial confrontation between Christians and Jews as religious peoples in the empire. The conflict was instigated by the Christian need for a new world order. The legislation against Jews began only after the brief shock of Julian the Apostate, but the battle of intellects by then was already well underway. Both sides sought divine sanction for their status as God’s people. “In the initial encounter, in the age of Constantine, therefore, the Judaic philosophers of history and the Christians represented by Eusebius conducted a genuine argument: different people talking to different people about essentially the same thing.”228

S5.1.1 Christian Triumph The Christian attitude to the first Christian emperor is often summed up in the word “triumphalism,” and not without some justification. The great reversal had occurred. The kingdom of God was well on its way. On this note, Eusebius concluded his history:

Jews and Christians III 547 Thus was Licinius cast down prostrate. But Constantine the most mighty victor, resplendent with every virtue that godliness bestows, together with his son Crispus . . . formed the Roman Empire, as in the days of old, into a single united whole, bringing under their peaceful rule all of it, from the rising sun round about in the two directions, north as well as south, even to the uttermost limits of the declining day. . . with dancing and hymns in city and country alike [the people] gave honor first of all to God the universal King.

Because a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand, the need for a single orthodoxy, and as far as possible a single orthopraxy, led to the councils and internal controversies that plagued the church catholic. At the same time, the realpolitik of imperial unification centered on the emperor, who had to balance religious pluralism with some form of imperial cultic unity. There were brief moments of toleration, the early years of Constantine, the reigns of Valens, and Julian, during which people were left to their religious persuasion, but the christianization of the empire had begun. Christianization meant transforming the Greco-Roman empire into a Christian empire; a Pax Romana into a Pax Romana Christiana. Each generation began from the cultural milieu into which it was born, assumed that is how it had always been, and pressed on toward an ill-defined goal of perfection. Concepts were required to deal with the strategy, to define the “other,” and the first generations were intellectually innovative. From a Christian point of view, the vast swath of Greco-Roman, Egyptian, and Syrian society was soon to be restructured, along with Iberian, Berber, Gallic, and German barbarians, as pagans. The earlier Latin paganus was a rustic, a villager, distinct from an elite or a soldier. Tertullian had applied the name pagan to those neither Jew nor Christian, and Augustine apparently coined the cognate paganism, the beliefs and practices of anyone neither Jew nor Christian.229 The formulation of the basket term “pagan” developed at the popular level and reached the imperial level early in the fifth century. A law in 408 refers to “the superstition of the Gentiles ( gentilium),” using the more literary reference from “gentes” to non-Christians, equivalent to the Greek ethnē in the Septuagint for the Hebrew goyim, that is, the nations, the Gentiles. But the following year, 409, another law refers to “the Gentiles, whom the people call pagans.” By 423, a law refers to “the abominable pagans, as well as of the Jews and the heretics.”230 From the Christian imperial point of view, the three religions were paganism, Judaism, and to be consistent, Christianism. From the “pagan” point of view, however, they spoke of their ancestral faith, or their Hellenic faith. In the mid sixth century, Procopius says of pagans, those who “held in reverence the old faith which men of the present day call Hellenic.”231 A fourth group, the heretics, were detested as traitors by Jews and Christians alike. Between the accession of Constantine (312) and the brief reign of Julian (361), the Christian population of the empire jumped from roughly 10 to 50 percent.232 Of the new converts who entered the church, many now came only as demi-Christians, in search of some goal other than distant salvation or even community benefits. Such pagans who converted were still demi-pagan, and Jews were demi-Jews.233 Judaizing Christians welcomed the Jewish converts and helped foster a continued


Jewish presence in the Christian community. The mass conversion process did not so much affect pagans or Jews, or paganism or Judaism, as it affected Christians and Christianism. While church leaders fought for a unified orthodoxy, a good deal of syncretism energized the landscape, not unlike the emergence of Hellenism after the conquests of Alexander. The vast numbers of new converts into the official and most beneficial religion of the empire merged their customs with traditional Christianity. By the fourth century, pagan worship was already a syncretistic monotheism, in which different groups focused on different gods as supreme and largely interchangeable. That Constantine could transfer his allegiance from Sol Invictus to Jesus Christ, Son of God is but a prominent example of lateral shifting of allegiance within the pantheon of divine names. Peasants retained their homage for the ancestral gods, spirits, and demons. A tomb inscription in the Syrian countryside read in part: Abedrapsas son of Dionysios and Amathbabea his wife, daughter of Eupolemos, completed the tomb. Having partaken cheerfully of life, they offered prayers to the ancestral gods. Be of good courage, my soul. No one is immortal.234

Everyone took precaution against demons. The thin haze of magic blanketed all the countryside where Jews and Christians dwelt beside “Others.” Pagan temples were not often turned into churches for fear of the demons that dwelt in them, but synagogues could become churches, and churches synagogues. Constantine confiscated the property of pagan temples but protected them from pillage and desecration by Christians. The act of sacrifice remained the primary act of Hellenic religion, as it had always been from the Greco-Roman point of view. Religion was enacted by the sacrificial cult. Constantius, in 341, declared, “Let superstition cease, let the madness of sacrifice be abolished.” By 354, he banned the sacrifices of pagan temples, and soon after, 356, imposed the death penalty for sacrifices to idols.235 Nevertheless, in 391 Theodosius found it necessary to again prohibit official pagan worship.236 The clash between Hellenes and Christians is most visible in Alexandria, where riots erupted periodically from the mid-fourth to late fifth centuries, including the destruction of the Serapeum in 391. The lack of public funding and other economic forces played a greater role than religious ideology in the demise of paganism. The pronouncements of emperors and bishops notwithstanding, christianization would take many generations. Jews were a different case altogether. Just as the Judaean culture of the fourth century b.c.e. had been transformed by the dominant culture of Hellenism, so the Jewish Hellenized and Romanized culture of the fourth century c.e. was transformed by the dominant Christian culture. But now there was something new. It is argued that, with the christianization of the empire, the understanding of religion in the modern sense emerged for the first time in history.237 Christianization, and what is in socio-historical terms its sibling, the emergence of religion as a discrete category of human experience—religion’s disembedding—had a direct impact on the Jewish culture of late antiquity because the Jewish communities

Jews and Christians III 549 appropriated much from the Christian society around them. That is, quite a lot of the distinctive Jewish culture was, to be vulgar about it, repackaged Christianity. Much more importantly, the dominant forms of Jewish social organization and patterns of expenditure in late antiquity, the local community and the synagogue (its chief material manifestation), were constituted by appropriative participation by Jews in the common late antique culture.238

The extent to which the above revisionist statement is supported by evidence remains subject to debate and clarification. The debate is largely a matter of continuity versus change, and which is the greater. But it is clear the religious pluralism of the Constantinian era that liberated a Christian expression of culture, christianization, also liberated a Jewish cultural expression, judaization. When the imperial government recognized the Jews as a distinct religious community during the fourth century, the Jews saw themselves increasingly as a religious community, “the other one.” So, it is argued, in the fourth century the first two religions, Christianity and Judaism, were born. The emergence did not happen suddenly and dramatically, but over the next three centuries. Each religion necessarily defined itself against the other, for without the other there could be no definition. Where Christians saw themselves as the universal religion, the expression of the people of God divorced from any ethnicity, the Jews saw themselves as the particular and ethnic (and original) religion. Another important factor in the birthing of religion was the discipline of heresiology. The novel conceptual category of heretic, a species of other within a group, had already been invented in the second century, but defining heretics came of age and with imperial power after Constantine, as Epiphanius elaborately illustrated.239 The geographical heart of christianization became the Holy City in the Holy Land; “a new Jerusalem was constructed, over against the one so celebrated of old.”240 Jewish cultural expression in Palestine was also encouraged, if not driven, by the influx of pilgrims, that is, tourists. There had always been some Jewish tourism, but now the whole world was ripe to come. Out of the numerous monasteries that sprang up, like multiplying loaves, in Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and the Judaean desert, monks provided room and board and availed themselves as guides to the holy sites. And the holy sites were not just Christian. The Pilgrim of Bordeaux (333), besides touring Jerusalem, visited the field where David slew Goliath, the house of Rahab the harlot in Jericho, the tomb of Rachel on the way to Bethlehem, the terebinth under which Abraham sat at Mamre, and numerous other sites of the Hebrew traditions. A later pilgrim, Egeria, around 380, could see the seal ring of Solomon as well as jars he used to capture demons. To get a sense of the impact, one only need ponder the health of Israeli tourism today if it drew no Christians. And we should not suppose that in the fourth century the Jews of Palestine had no part in developing the tourist trade outside of Jerusalem. As noted earlier, archaeology tells a tale of significant expansion of synagogues during the fifth century, after the patriarchate was dissolved, which may be the result of power flowing back to a natural and local elite class, and despite laws restricting the construction of new synagogues. The new attention to the holiness


of the land, it is thought, spurred a renewed Jewish expression of its sanctity. As basilica churches sprang up, basilica synagogues arose in their own communities. Both church and synagogue were called a holy place, and churches were even called a temple. The synagogue began to meet more spiritual and ritual needs of the Jewish community than it had ever done before. Synagogue art became more Jewish than it had ever been both in keeping with, yet distinct from, Christian art.241 Christian hostility toward Jews lept to another level in the early 5th century. There was a marked increase in recorded confrontations: Cyril of Alexandria in 414; Severus in Minorca in 418 (see below); Rabbula of Edessa in the 420s, and others. This was the generation that followed the edicts of Theodosius in 380 and 388. Also, the official view of Judaism changed from calling it a legitimate religio, as it had been for centuries, to depricating it as a superstitio.242 It took a century, but power had finally produced its offspring. In fairness, however, we must recall the Jewish burning of churches during the brief liberation of Julian (361–363): Gaza, Ashkelon, Berytus, “and almost everywhere in that area.” There may have been a call for the “vengeance of our fathers” among Christians.

S5.1.2 Jewish Response Jews had been a loyal and legitimate people of the Roman Empire since Julius Caesar of blessed memory. Philo of Alexandria had genuinely admired the Roman Empire and lauded Augustus as the unifier of the empire and the harbinger of peace. Caesar Augustus protected the Jews, and everywhere in the synagogues Jews had prayed for the life of the emperor and the peace of the empire. Consider him who in all the virtues transcended human nature, who on account of the vastness of his imperial sovereignty as well as nobility of character was the first to bear the name of the August or Venerable. . . . He was also the first and the greatest and the common benefactor in that he displaced the rule of many and committed the ship of the commonwealth to be steered by a single pilot, that is himself, a marvelous master of the science of government.

It was the intrinsic excellence of Augustus, his embodiment of true kingship, and his benefactions, that qualified him for the new and exceptional honors bestowed on him, “no less than celestial honors.”243 We could imagine some Jews across the empire were prepared to laud the emperor Constantine who now worshiped the one true God and who was nearer to Jewish worship than Augustus had ever been. Just as the Severans had received honor from the Jews, the Christian emperor could be another Antoninus who would protect the Jews and ensure that royal patronage flowed through the office of the patriarch. The toleration he decreed must have stirred the hearts of many Jews in the West. Without much evidence we can propose that no small number of Jews sought imperial favors with a Christian emperor as easily as with a Hellene. The imperial law of 418 on the employment of Jews in public service barred Jews from the military and higher posts in the government but encouraged Jews

Jews and Christians III 551

to practice as lawyers and to serve as they liked in municipal offices.244 At this time, Maximux, bishop of Turin, observed the great influence Jews held “in palaces and with provincial governors.”245 If the Christian emperor protected the rights of the Jews to live by their own customs and marry whomever they chose (in the lower classes), we might well have a Jewish paean in the tradition of Philo rivaling that of Eusebius for any number of emperors. Such expectations of ideal imperial rule, if they ever existed, were soon dashed. Roman rule had been religiously neutral, and Christian rule was not. It is probably not gross hyperbole to say that, as the news of Constantine’s declaration that Christianity was a licit religion spread across the empire, some Jews paused in stark disbelief. Their nemesis had won after all. But we have few hints on what the patriarchs and the elite thought of the Christian emperors, because no Philo or Josephus arose to recount it. And any Jew would have to respond to the emperor’s declaration in 324 that Jews are “a people who had slain the prophets and the Lord himself.”246 The rabbinic response is telling, but it is difficult to know how widely it was held in the early generations. The following statement probably enjoyed some currency. With the footprints of the Messiah presumption shall increase and dearth reach its height; the vine shall yield its fruit but the wine shall be costly; and the empire shall fall into heresy and there shall be none to utter reproof.247

The prophecy is part of a late addition to the Mishnah at some point after 220, and likely after 320. The “footprints of the Messiah” mark the beginning of the end times. The last phrase, “the empire shall fall into heresy,” is found elsewhere in rabbinic literature, all much later, including the Babylonian Talmud.248 If it was originally stated prior to Constantine, it cannot—unless a genuine premonition— refer specifically to the christianization of the Roman Empire, though from a later rabbinic perspective in this era, it would become an appropriate prophecy ex eventu. The Christian empire infused theological life into the association of Esau and Jacob. Irenaeus and Tertullian had already put forward the “two nations are in thy womb” theme and identified Esau, the firstborn, with the Jews, and Jacob, the second, with the Christians. Augustine pursued the same theme, explaining it with characteristic lucidity: According to the origin of the flesh, the nation of the Idumaeans belongs to Esau, who is also called Edom, and the nation of the Jews belongs to Jacob, who is also called Israel. But according to the mystery of the spirit, the Jews belong to Esau and the Christians belong to Israel. So indeed what Scripture says is fulfilled: “the greater will serve the lesser,” that is, the Jewish people, which was born first, will serve the Christian people, which was born afterwards.249

Likewise, Ambrose preached on the Esau and Jacob typology by associating the loving traits of Rebekah with Jacob, who is the church. When Rebekah gave Jacob the best garments of Esau (Gen 27:15), these symbolized the prophetic, priestly, and kingly vestment given to the church. “This clothing was lying in the shadow, cast off and forgotten. . . . The Christian people put it on, and it shone brightly.”250


The sages were aware of the Christian claim to be true Israel. An explicit response comes from Rabbi Aha, a contemporary of Constantine, and his slightly elder colleague, Huna of Sepphoris, a disciple of Rabbi Johanan b. Nappaha. R. Aha in the name of R. Huna, “Esau, the evil one, is destined to put on his cloak [tallith] and to dwell with the righteous in the Garden of Eden in the age to come. But the Holy One, blessed be he, will drag him and throw him out of there. What is the Scriptural basis for this statement? Though you soar aloft like the eagle, though your nest is set among the stars, thence I will bring you down, says the Lord (Obad 1:4). And “stars” refer only to the righteous, as you say, [And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the firmament;] and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever (Dan 12:3).251

There is no suggestion that Rabbi Aha knew of Ambrose, let alone his sermons, but the common idea of clothing does suggest a broad exchange of ideas between Jews and Christians at the lay level on common themes. People talked. Another tradition builds on the earlier association of the founding of Rome with the sin of Israel. A baraita (an anonymous Tannaitic tradition) states, “On the day that Jeroboam brought the two golden calves, one into Bethel and the other into Dan, a hut was built, and this developed into Greek Italy.”252 A more developed tradition is found in the Palestinian Talmud, which builds upon the meaning of Saturnalia, the Roman solstice festival that was soon associated with the birth of Jesus Christ. Saturnalia means “hidden hatred” [sina’ah temunah]: [The Lord] hates, takes vengeance, and punishes. This is in accord with the following verse: Now Esau hated Jacob. Said R. Isaac b. R. Eleazar, “In Rome they call it Esau’s Saturnalia.” Kratesis [Roman festival commemorating conquest of the East]: It is the day on which the Romans seized power. Said R. Levi, “It is the day on which Solomon intermarried with the family of Pharaoh Necho, King of Egypt. On that day Michael came down and thrust a reed into the sea, and pulled up muddy alluvium, and this was turned into a huge pot, and this was the great city of Rome. On the day on which Jeroboam set up the two golden calves, Remus and Romulus came and built two huts in the city of Rome. On the day on which Elijah disappeared, a king was appointed in Rome: There was no king in Edom, a deputy was king.253

The tradition of Rabbi Levi draws the history of Israel and of Rome together under the providence of God. On the day Solomon sinned, God founded Rome. Just as the Christians explained the conversion of Constantine as the fulfillment of providence, so did the rabbis. All victories are the reward of some merit, all disasters the result of some sin. But because God is in control, there is hope in the promise of deliverance. Midrash literature compiled in the fourth century contain eschatological passages on the four kingdoms of Daniel’s vision: “I, Daniel, saw in my vision by night the four winds of heaven stirring up the great sea, and four great beasts came up out of the sea, different from one another” (7:2–3). In a series of interpretations from Leviticus Rabbah (ca. 400), the first three beasts are symbolized by the camel (Babylon), the badger (Media-Persia), and the hare (Greece). The fourth beast, revealed in a separate vision, is identified as Edom-Esau (Rome), symbolized by the


swine, or a wild boar. The fourth beast is part of the divine vision of history, yet this beast is fundamentally different. The first three chew the cud but do not have cloven hooves; Rome has the cloven hoof but does not chew the cud. Also, Moses identifies the three in one verse and the fourth in another (Deut 14:7–8). Asaph identified its nature: The boar from the forest ravages it (Ps 80:13 [14]). Why the symbol of the swine? “To tell you this: Just as the swine when reclining puts forth its hooves as if to say: See that I am clean [with cloven hooves], so too does the empire of Edom [Rome] boast as it commits violence and robbery, under the guise of establishing a judicial tribunal.” Another interpretation: And why is the lastnamed called hazir [swine or boar]? Because it will yet restore (hazar) the crown to its [rightful] owner. This is indicated by what is written, “And saviors shall come up on Mount Zion to judge the mount of Esau; and the kingdom shall be the Lord’s” (Obad 21). The four kingdoms are also identified as the four rivers that flowed from the Garden of Eden: Pishon (Babylon), Gihon (Media-Persia), Tigris (Greece), and “the fourth river is the Euphrates (Perath),” which refers to Edom (Rome), for it was fruitful (parath) and multiplied (rabath) by virtue of the prayer (tefillah) of the old man [Isaac in Gen 27:29]. The success of Christian Rome was due to the presence and prayers of the Jews. The rabbis responded to Christian Rome by declaring that it is no different from pagan Rome and the previous three empires that have oppressed Israel. All are beasts. Yet, Christian Rome is different in that it thinks itself clean. Yes, it has cloven hooves, so that it outwardly appears clean, but inwardly it is not. And while all the other beasts are followed by further beasts, the swine is not, for it shall hand sovereignty to its rightful owner, the king of Israel. Yes, Rome is descended (spiritually) from Abraham and sustained by the prayers of Isaac. Yes, Rome is a brother to Israel, but it is not Israel.254 A number of other traditions less obviously directed at the Christian empire may nevertheless have been composed or collected in response to the Christian theology or legends. For example, in a collection of legends in the Babylonian Talmud (Gittin 56a–57b), which includes a specific legend about Jesus (to be discussed below), one story deals with Titus as the destroyer of the Jerusalem temple. In several Christian legends, Titus became the avenger of Christ, whose mission was to destroy Jerusalem because the Jews had killed Jesus. The main theme of the legend of Titus is that Jerusalem was destroyed because the Jews killed Christ. In one legend, Vespasian suffers an illness due to a nest of wasps in his head, and after he is cured by Veronica’s cloth containing the portrait of Jesus, he and Titus march against Jerusalem. The legends as we have them are medieval, but the origin of the various legends may be dated to the later fourth century, after the reign of Julian the Apostate and probably in reaction to it. If so, then the Jewish legend of Titus likely contests several Christian themes concerning the destruction of the temple. Here is the essence of the Jewish legend. Vespasian sent Titus who said, Where is their God, the rock in whom they trusted? (Deut 32:37). This was the wicked Titus who blasphemed and insulted Heaven. What did he do? He took a harlot by the hand and entered the Holy of Holies and spread out

554 Vines Intertwined a scroll of the Law and committed a sin on it. He then took a sword and slashed the curtain. Miraculously blood spurted out, and he thought that he had slain [God]. . . . Titus further took the curtain and shaped it like a basket and brought all the vessels of the Sanctuary and put them in it, and then put them on board ship to go and triumph with them in his city. . . . A gale sprang up at sea which threatened to wreck him. He said: Apparently the power of the God of these people is only over water. . . . If he is really mighty, let him come up on the dry land and fight with me. A voice went forth from heaven saying; Sinner, son of sinner, descendant of Esau the sinner, I have a tiny creature in my world called a gnat. . . . Go up on the dry land and make war with it. When he landed the gnat came and entered his nose, and it knocked against his brain for seven years. . . . When he died he said: Burn me and scatter my ashes over the seven seas so that the God of the Jews should not find me and bring me to trial.255

The legend responds to Christian themes. Where Christianity saw Titus as the Lord’s avenger, Judaism saw him as the supreme sacrilege. Titus fornicates on a Torah scroll in the Holy of Holies, as Christians had rejected Torah and God. Christianity saw the torn veil as the symbol of Christ’s victory over sin and the open entrance to the presence of God, in which the veil represented the flesh of Christ: “through the curtain, that is his flesh” (Heb 10:19–20). The Jewish legend plays upon the Christian identification of the curtain with the flesh of Christ, but only to reverse it. Titus thought he had slain God when he tore the curtain with his sword, but he had merely committed a great sacrilege, one that described the great Christian sin of the destruction of the temple. The death of Titus by a small gnat reflects the illness of Vespasian, who suffered from a wasp (vespa) in his head but was cured. In the Jewish response, Titus dies by the most insignificant of God’s creatures, also in his head. As we shall see, his ruse to avoid judgment did not work.256 Rabbinic traditions are not the only shreds of evidence we have for a Jewish response to the Christian dominion. Epigraphic evidence from Egypt reveals a resurgence of the Hebrew language among Jews during the fourth and fifth centuries. This trend parallels the rise of Egyptian Christian nationalism as Egyptian Christianity, and is best explained as the Jewish effort to reclaim their own identity and solidarity against the progressive christianization of the empire.257 Two literary works, one known for centuries, the other just over two decades, are part of what must have been a far larger corpus of works from the western Jewish Diaspora. One is the Letter of Annas to Seneca, a short treatise in Latin purporting to be from a Jew named Annas, perhaps the high priest of Jerusalem (62–68 c.e.), to Seneca the Younger. The apocryphal letter, dated to the fourth century c.e., condemns those who believe they can understand God without his help and who hold erroneous views on the immortality of the soul and worship idols. The other work is known as the Collatio Legum Mosaicarum et Romanarum, a comparison of select Mosaic laws with Roman laws. This anonymous treatise, known from the sixteenth century, follows the Jewish Diaspora tradition of arguing that the more ancient laws of Moses have influenced later legal systems. Such a case need not be attributed to Jewish authorship in the fourth or fifth century, since it might come from the hand of a Christian, or even a Samaritan, but the arguments for a Jewish hand within the context of Jewish and Christian attitudes to the Torah are convincing.258 The two


literary works demonstrate the ongoing vitality of the Jewish Diaspora among the educated elite in Italy, who in the tradition of Josephus and Philo are willing and able to engage Greco-Roman intellectuals and Christians in matters important to Jewish culture and beliefs. Just as Christian literati are beginning to establish the Christian basis of the empire, the Jews remind them that Jewish laws, by their very antiquity, honor the Jews who remain valued members of the Roman Empire. However, it may also show the growing need of Jews to defend their place in Italian society.

S5.2 Christian Views of Jews My mind has been often exercised in inquiring how it is that other men are very ready to believe in God the Word, while the Jews are so incredulous, although it was to them that instruction concerning the things of God was, from the beginning, imparted by the prophets, who likewise made them acquainted with the events attendant upon the coming of Christ, before they came to pass.

With these words Sozomen began his Ecclesiastical History, written around 440, and he probably expressed genuine, perhaps even sympathetic, perplexity. He had read the Testimonium of Flavius Josephus about Jesus, most likely in the altered version, from the history of Eusebius, and therefore believed this historian, “most distinguished among Jews and Romans,” had openly called Jesus the Christ, foretold by the prophets of old, who performed many great works and was loved by Jews and Greeks. If such a man had virtually accepted Jesus, apparently without becoming a Christian yet sympathetic to this cause, why had so few others joined the faith? Elsewhere in his history, Sozomen treats the Jews fairly and dispassionately. The worst thing he says about the Jews is that they were sometimes hostile to Christians in Persia; the cause of which he thought was envy. For most church fathers in this generation of Christian triumphalism, however, we detect an undercurrent of discomfort and animosity. Certainly, none were as engaged and cordial with Jews as Origen. We should probably suspect it had more to do with the times than the personalities. The imperial acceptance of Christianity had set a new foundation for the expectation of victory. Emperor Julian’s great reversal of imperial patronage shook the foundations of Christian confidence, and the effort to rebuild the temple of Jerusalem exposed not only the Jewish zeal for their own triumph, but also the vast current of Judaizers and pro-Jewish sentiment within the Christian churches. It is now commonly recognized that many of the verbal attacks on “Jews” among the church fathers includes the “Christian Judaizers” of various sorts, and on occasion, any non-Nicene Christian.

S5.2.1 Syriac Christianity: Aphrahat and Ephrem Syrus Aphrahat, the Persian Sage, gives us a one-sided, though remarkably cordial, dialogue with the Jews in Mesopotamia and the eastern frontier of Rome. It is recalled that Aphrahat wrote his final 13 Demonstrations in 344–345, during a time


of great persecution after the war between Persia and Rome in 337. Because Jews tended to support the Persians and Christians supported Rome, Christians were suffering in Persian-held lands at this time. Some Christians were likely going over to Jewish communities, perhaps converting to Judaism in order to escape persecution. There was, in any case, the persistent attraction of Judaism upon Christians, and both reasons provide the historical context for his writing. His Twenty-first Demonstration, devoted to the theme of persecution, begins with reference to a brief dialogue with a man who was called “wise,” probably a sage of some repute within the Jewish community of his locale but not necessarily a Talmudic rabbi. It is interesting that the Jewish sage was familiar with the Gospel of Matthew, and unless Aphrahat has tidied up the quotation, the Jew quotes it accurately. The sage challenged Aphrahat concerning the statement of Jesus to his disciples that if they had the faith of a mustard seed, they could remove a mountain to the sea (Matt 17:20). The Jew concluded, “So apparently there is in all your people not one wise man, whose prayer is heard, and who asks of God that your persecutors should cease from you. For clearly it is written for you in that passage, There is nothing which ye shall not be able to do.” Aphrahat admits he was troubled by the force of the argument, despite his anger at the blasphemy, but he turned the argument back on the Jews, asking whether or not they believed God was with them even in their dispersion from the land of Palestine. The sage replied, “God is with us, because that God said unto Israel: Even in the lands of their enemies, I yet did not forsake them, nor did I make void my covenant with them” (Lev 26:44). Aphrahat then referred to the promise of God: When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you (Isa 43:2). “Thus there is not one righteous and good and wise man out of all your people, who could pass through the sea and live and not be drowned.” The dialogue continued over passages of Scripture on grounds acceptable to each, the authority of Scripture. The sage was familiar with the Gospel of Matthew, even as some of the rabbis were familiar. The Jews known to Aphrahat, however, do not appear to have been rabbis. Aphrahat knows the biblical laws, but nothing of the rabbinic interpretations. He knows certain animals are forbidden for food but nothing of the separation of milk from meat. Most of his writings concerning the Jews do not seem to be based on extensive debates with real Jews. However, Aphrahat betrays a number of hints that he either expects Jews to read him or that those Christians who read him are in conversation with Jews. For example, in Demonstration 13, On the Sabbath, he writes, “I have written this explanation because of the conflict which arose in our day.”259 His interest is driven by the attraction of Judaism upon Christians and the critique of Christianity made by Jews. If this is correct, then Aphrahat provides one of the best polemics for understanding Jewish-Christian relations in the East. In defense of his Christian faith, Aphrahat responds to four criticisms of the Jews: Christians are idolatrous in worshiping a man; the Christian practice of celibacy offends against the command of God as well as nature; God has not protected


Christians against persecution because they are not his people; and Christians were never called by God to be his people. Aphrahat points out that the title given to Jesus, Son of God, is well established in Hebrew tradition. Celibacy is also shown in Hebrew tradition to be the superior condition for service to God. Many prophets were celibate: Joshua, Elijah, Elisha, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Moses remained celibate after God called him at the burning bush. Christians do not reject marriage, but they understand that celibacy is the superior condition for service to God. The criticism that Christians had no God to defend them was a two-edged sword, since Jews had their own history of persecution. Aphrahat calls to mind persecuted saints of long ago, including the kings David, Hezekiah, and Josiah and prophets like Jeremiah and Daniel, and even the seven martyred sons of Hannah in the days of the Maccabees. The present persecution of the Christians might be blamed on their sins, but it was no proof God was not with them. The fourth criticism goes to the heart of the covenant people of God. Here Aphrahat could mine the prophetic harangue against the faithless Israel, but he had to establish the rejection of Israel and its replacement by the Gentiles. Deuteronomy 32:21 was his proof text: “I will stir them to jealousy with those who are no people.” God had called into being a people from those among the Gentiles who were no people. “And the holy People inherited an eternal Kingdom; the holy People who were chosen instead of the People.”260 Do Jews await their messianic redemption? But the messiah has already come, and at his coming the kingdom of the children of Jacob has been handed over to Esau, the kingdom of the Romans, which is now the eternal kingdom of the holy people. According to Aphrahat, who wrote Demonstration 5 just before the death of Constantine, Jesus handed over the Jews to Rome in the war that followed his death, and Christ is now the king of the Christian empire. Aphrahat provides a rare glimpse of the vast majority of Jews in Persia and what appears to be their nonrabbinic Judaism. On the other hand, there is a considerable sharing of scriptural interpretation and theology known to the rabbis. For example, rabbis also used Leviticus 26:44 in defense of their assertion that God had not rejected the Jews despite their dispersion, and this was very likely in response to Christian charges.261 Arguments against Christians may have circulated widely since the Jews shared a common nemesis in Christianity, regardless of how they felt about rabbinic legal rulings. The dominant hope of the Jewish faith was that God would redeem and restore them to Palestine. In daily practice, Jews avoided food and wine prepared by Gentiles. They were scrupulous about observing the sabbath. And circumcision remained their mark of the covenant people of God, the heirs of Abraham. Jews celebrated the Passover, a feast that continually attracted Christians. Aphrahat’s description of Judaism omits rabbinic tradition beyond what is found in Scripture, such as the ritual slaughter, or the separation of meat and milk, or any sense of oral Torah. These additions to the laws of God would have been strong arguments favoring Christianity over Judaism, which Aphrahat surely would have used had he known them, and therefore, it is assumed he did not know them. In this case, the argument of silence suggests that the Mesopotamian Jewish community known to Aphrahat did not practice rabbinic Judaism. Rather, the picture we get is of the common Judaism that had been practiced for centuries and continued to be


the religious expression of Jews throughout the world, except where rabbinic influence was followed and could be enforced. This Judaism, known from Philo among other Diaspora authors, and the conversion of the royal household of Adiabene among others, had formerly centered on temple and Torah but now simply followed the plain meaning of Torah. It was just such a simple Judaism with its ancient claims to authenticity that continued to lure Christians.262 Aphrahat bases his critique of Judaism upon biblical law, which he expects the Jews maintain. Aphrahat’s Christology, during the age of Christological controversy, was simple. To his Jewish audience, he defends the Christian view of Christ by noting that Moses is also called God in the Scriptures, and Israel is called “Son” and “Firstborn.” As one scholar dryly noted, “To this a Jew might well reply, ‘Have you ever heard of a homoousian controversy among the rabbis as to the nature of Moses?’ ”263 Ephrem Syrus, like his older contemporary Aphrahat, saw the Jews as the greatest danger to the Christian church, but unlike Aphrahat, Ephrem harbored an abiding animosity against the Jews and was not shy of expressing it. He typically used the word “crucifier” as a synonym for Jew, and he assures the Jews that “If one kingdom of heaven is not promised to all of us, one gehenna [Hell] is enough for all of you.”264 Like Origen before and Jerome after, Ephrem depicts the Jews as Judas Iscariot. In a Hymn on Faith, he contrasts Jews and Gentiles by Judas and Lazarus, raised from the dead by Jesus. As a hymn, it was to be sung in Christian churches. The Nations received Life—symbolized by Lazarus, hidden Life—and as a symbol of the Nation died the thief—who hanged himself and bequeathed his rope—to the scribes who had hired him.265

We recall that Christianity from Antioch eastward was more attracted to Judaism, and retained more Jewish believers among their ranks who were comfortable bringing much of their Judaism with them. The threat of Jews and Judaism is abundantly clear throughout Ephrem’s works, and he persistently seeks to distinguish Jews from Christians. In his Hymns of Nativity he noted the difference between the Jews who rejected Jesus and the magi from the East who came to worship Jesus at his birth. The magi are the first Christians and as such represent a branch of the Gentiles. Because Gentiles and Jews are forever distinct, Christianity has nothing Jewish, and Christians can never be Jews.266 Passover remained the most tumultuous time of the year, particularly because of the preference in the East to celebrate the Christian Pascha according to the Jewish calendar, and the Nicene declaration that this should not be done. If the Christian feast was to be held separately, it appears some Christians joined the Jewish communities and shared in their Passover. Against this practice, Ephrem warned his congregations in his Hymns on Unleavened Bread. How impure therefore is that unleavened bread that the hands that killed the Son kneaded! Let us not eat, my brothers, along with the drug of life the unleavened bread of the People as a deadly drug.

Jews and Christians III 559 For that blood for which they cried out that it might be upon them is mixed in their festivals and in their sabbaths. Flee and distance yourself from [the People]! Look, it shakes itself off! Do not let the sprinkling of the blood contaminate you!

After each stanza, the refrain was sung: “Glory be to Christ through whose body the unleavened bread of the People became obsolete, together with the People itself.”267 So persistent a refrain admits a persistent enticement of Judaism. Ephrem’s polemic may be attributed partly to the wars between Persia and Rome, both in his youth (337) and old age (363), in which relations between Jews and Christians in Mesopotamia were exceptionally strained. We do not know what he may have experienced at the hands of Jews in Nisibis when he fled the city before it was handed back to Persia after the debacle of Julian’s campaign. Christians in the major cities of the East at this time were still the poor relatives of the wellestablished Jewish communities. But personality and experience aside, his life-long crusade of condemnation was fueled by a fear that Christians will not conquer the earth for Christ, and the Jews will be the stumbling block to their advance. Jews, however, were only part of the danger. Ephrem lived on the frontier of the Roman Empire where Arian Christianity was strongest. In his defense of Nicene orthodoxy, it is argued, he lashed out against the Jews as the most obvious danger to the faith, and one against which he could mine the Scriptures for his arsenal. As a leader of the church, he joined other polemicists in defining the boundaries of true Christian identity as the People of God. In the greater context, Ephrem should be seen as a “vocal Nicene Christian leader struggling to prevail in the topsy-turvy political and religious context of the fourth-century eastern Empire.”268 Ephrem Syrus is a good example of the often bitter view of Jews expressed by Christians that can only be properly understood in the political context of the times.

S5.2.2 John Chrysostom The eight Discourses against Judaizing Christians of John Chrysostom are usually seen as his Contra Judaeos work, even though he wrote another essay, The Demonstration against Jews and Pagans on the Divinity of Christ. The Discourses were, however, sermons specific to the challenges facing his own church in Antioch, preached to his own congregation, and therefore more in line with Paul’s letters than the formal “Against the Jews” writings of other church fathers. It is the problems themselves, not so much Chrysostom’s polemic, that enlighten the history of Jews and Christians. The three main problems that caused him to break off his planned sermons during 486–487 were Christian Judaizers who observed the Jewish holy days and in other ways socialized with Jews, those who observed Pascha according to the Jewish calendar, and Christians who sought healing from Jews.269 “There are many in our ranks who say they think as we do. Yet some of these are going to watch the festivals and others will join the Jews in keeping their feasts


and observing their fasts” (1.1.5). This was a major problem for many Christian leaders. Women were especially enamored of the Jewish holy days and rituals. Josephus noted in his own day that the wives of many Greeks in Antioch were secretly associated with the Jewish synagogues, and the advent of Christianity changed nothing. Women of Antioch, whether pagan, Jewish, or Christian, undoubtedly socialized, and they did not care that it upset the bishops. And their husbands went along. The synagogue apparently made use of professional actors, no doubt Jewish, and put on entertaining services. Justified nor not, Chrysostom equates the synagogue with the theater. And on days of fasting, he says, the Jews engaged in “excesses and the ultimate licentiousness, dancing with bare feet in the marketplace” (1.2.7). The stark contrast he paints between church and synagogue leaves one to wonder if he discouraged or encouraged defections from his congregation. In our churches we hear countless discourses on eternal punishments, on rivers of fire, on the venomous worm, on bonds that cannot be burst, on exterior darkness. But the Jews neither know nor dream of these things. They live for their bellies, they gape for the things of this world, their condition is no better than that of pigs or goats because of their wanton ways and excessive gluttony. They know but one thing: to fill their bellies and be drunk, to get all cut and bruised, to be hurt and wounded while fighting for their favorite charioteers.270

Some Christians who insisted on observing the Dominical Pascha according to the Jewish Passover were dividing the church. The council of Antioch (341) had threatened to excommunicate those who rejected the Council of Nicaea decree on the universal date for the Pascha, but 45 years later some Christians defied the council, and it was not in the power of the bishops to prevent them. The Judaizers used the same defense as their ancestors, the Quartodecimans, had done, noting that the church had from the first celebrated their Pascha according to the traditional Jewish calendar. Chrysostom reminds them that Paul urged them to “renounce circumcision, to scorn the sabbath, the feast days, and all the other observances of the Law” (3.3.1). They argued that the Pascha and the Feast of Unleavened Bread are one feast and should be observed together. Chrysostom responds that God limited the Passover sacrifice to the city of Jerusalem, and nowhere else. After God destroyed Jerusalem, the Jewish Passover was no longer valid. Christians sought healing by Jews who used amulets, prayers, or incantations. Chrysostom is of two minds on this. He compares the Jewish healers with the false prophets condemned in ancient Israel. If someone really thinks the Jewish healers can heal, then the stronger Christians among them “must reveal the tricks they use, their incantations, their amulets, their charms and spells. This is the only way in which they have a reputation for healing; they do not effect genuine cures” (8.5.6). But he must admit some people are healed. Magic is effectual. Here he responds in the same way Jews treated their own who sought healing from Christians: better to die than be damned. He reminds them that everyone dies, but they will be judged by their loyalty to God. He also equates their suffering with martyrdom. “A martyr is made not only when someone is ordered to offer


sacrifice but chooses to die rather than offer the sacrifice. If a man shuns any practice, and to shun it can only bring on death, he is certainly a martyr” (8.7.13). But if one wishes to go beyond simple prayer, rather than seeking help in the synagogue, “Run instead to the martyrs, to the saints, to those in whom he is well pleased and who can speak to him with great confidence and freedom” (8.6.8). Chrysostom probably means that his people should go to the former synagogue Hashmunith, now a Christian shrine, where the tomb and relics of the Maccabean martyrs are sheltered.271 Chrysostom, like many a church father, had at his disposal the arsenal of condemnation from the biblical prophets, and he threw his darts pointedly. Besides calling the Jews gluttons, drunkards, sorcerers, and adulterers, all of whom might well thrive in synagogue and church, his harshest criticisms are biblical quotes. Do you not hear what God said to Jeremiah about the Jews? “Do not intercede for this people because even if Moses and Samuel shall stand [before my face], I will not listen to them.” That is how far some sins go beyond forgiveness and how incapable of defense they are.272

The implied validity of the biblical condemnation, however, required him to apply corporate guilt to all Jews from all times. The Jews of fourth-century Antioch were the same as those who killed Christ in the first century, and those who performed child sacrifices to demons in the days of Ahaz and Manasseh.273 The guilt of the past condemns still. As the prophets accuse Israel of playing the harlot by their idolatry, Chrysostom may now call the synagogue a brothel. Unbelief in Jews is the same as unbelief of pagans, hence idolatry. Because the Jews have not accepted Christ, God has departed from them. When God abandons a place, demons inhabit it. Jesus spoke of the exorcized demon returning to the house with seven more, and on those grounds Chrysostom declares that “demons dwell in the synagogue, not only in the place itself but also in the souls of the Jews” (1.6.6). The belief in demons and sorcery was universal. Demon possession could account for moral as well as physical ills. He asks the Judaizers of his congregation, “Are you not afraid that your wife may not come back from there after a demon has possessed her soul? . . . Tell me, then. How do you Judaizers have the boldness, after dancing with demons, to come back to the assembly of the apostles?” (2.3.5). The rhetoric of Chrysostom is at times colorful and blistering but has more to do with the rhetoric of the age, and his training under Libanius, than hatred of the Jews.274 The Jews were demonic because they were a danger to the faith. Chrysostom repeatedly reminds his congregation of their responsibility to their brethren. The Judaizers confused others, even if they were not as confused themselves as Chrysostom says. Some Christians in Antioch, and throughout Christendom, did not hold the view of the leaders that Christianity ought to be so distinct from Judaism. Chrysostom asks rhetorically, “Is the dispute between us over ordinary, everyday matters, so that you think the two religions are really one and the same?” (4.3.6). It appears that many would answer, “Yes, more or less.” The city of Antioch in the fourth century offers us our best glimpse of Jewish and Christian vines intertwined, and we should not suppose the glimpse is altogether unique.


S5.2.3 Jerome Jerome’s attitude toward the Jews was perhaps typical of Christians who rubbed shoulders with them on a professional level. He made friends with Jews, respected and relied on their intellect, especially those who had mastered Hebrew, but was easily annoyed by the Jews as a community. His numerous comments on the Jews are often described as malicious or denigrating, but this assigns an attitude that must be balanced against his continual interaction with the Jews, which was undoubtedly greater than for any other Church Father. He seemed to know a lot about synagogue services, held day and night. He was offended by the theatrical nature of the preaching, and was surprised Jews did not kneel in their prayers. On the other hand, he was greatly impressed (as well as annoyed) by the education of the Jews, and the ability of even little children to recite the biblical genealogies from Adam to Zerubbabel. He says the Jews eat very well on the sabbath, and this sounds like the voice of an experienced guest.275 As the venerated translator of the Latin Vulgate, Jerome relied on Jewish scholars to instruct him in the Hebrew language and exegesis. He took up the study of Hebrew, he plainly admits, in order to distract him from the persistent heat of his blood against which celibates still in their vigor fought. “To subdue its turbulence I betook myself to a brother who before his conversion had been a Jew and asked him to teach me Hebrew.”276 Besides this unnamed Jewish believer, Jerome visited a nearby community of Jewish believers who used a Hebrew version of the Gospel of Matthew, which may have been a Syriac translation in Hebrew characters, and more likely a gospel harmony rather than a precise translation of Matthew.277 Jerome made a copy of it for himself and noted that whenever the gospel “quoted testimonies of the old Scriptures” it followed the Hebrew text, not the Septuagint, as did the Greek Matthew. When Jerome began writing biblical expositions of his own, he drew upon Jewish interpretations given to him by his Hebrew teachers.278 While Jerome was employed as a translator by Damasus in Rome, he made friends with Jews there and continued his study of Hebrew and Jewish literature. On one occasion, a Jewish friend brought him certain rare books borrowed from a synagogue. The friend was rather nervous about the clandestine loan to a Christian, so Jerome dropped his work and hastily made copies.279 We gather that the synagogue leaders were not in the habit of lending their precious books to Christians, but personal friendship found a way. Once Jerome settled in Bethlehem and began his translation of the Old Testament from “the true Hebrew text,” he employed a Jew named Baraninas (Bar Hanina) to tutor him. What trouble and expense it cost me to get Baraninas to teach me under cover of night. For by his fear of the Jews he presented to me in his own person a second edition of Nicodemus. . . . If it is expedient to hate any men and to loathe any race, I have a strange dislike to those of the circumcision. For up to the present day they persecute our Lord Jesus Christ in the synagogues of Satan. Yet can anyone find fault with me for having had a Jew as a teacher?280


Some scholars read this passage as evidence of Jerome’s “profound hatred for the Jews.”281 That is too strong. In the context of his letter, he is already defensive about praising Origen, and he was also criticized for too much familiarity with Jews by learning Hebrew from them, which he continued to do for 40 years. Rufinus accused Jerome of a view on the resurrection of the dead, perhaps “obtained from some of your Jews, which is now to be promulgated as a new law for the church, so that we may learn their ways.”282 Indeed, Jerome was more susceptible to the charge of Judaizer than any other Christian intellectual of his era. His awareness of its truth may lie behind the charge of “Judaizer” he leveled against other Church intellectuals, living and dead, to the point of slander and intellectual dishonestly. Their guilt, from Irenaeus and Tertullian, Victorinus of Petrovium, to Lactantius and Appolinarius, was that they all accepted some form of literal millennial age, which Jerome called Jewish deuterōseis, or Mishnah.283 Augustine reproved him for preferring the Hebrew text of the Old Testament, rather than the miraculous Greek translation of the Septuagint, for his new Latin translation and voiced the widespread dissatisfaction of Catholics in Carthage with Jerome’s Latin Bible because he changed some of their favorite passages and the symbols of their faith. A bishop’s reading of the story of Jonah from Jerome’s translation nearly sparked a riot from his congregation in Oea (Tripoli).284 Jerome’s dislike of the Jews is related to their continued rejection of Jesus, a very theological and rhetorical excuse for despising the Jews. If the synagogues of Satan suddenly converted, we should expect a rather different attitude—although he also disliked a good many Christians. The phrase “fear of the Jews” attributed to Baraninas likely reflects gospel idiom and the Nicodemus model, not the admission of Baraninas. The distinction between individual Jewish friends and “the Jews” that Jerome experienced in Rome and Palestine was probably common enough and probably reflected the harsher attitudes of community leaders, whether of the synagogue or the church, than existed on the street. Christian leaders recognized the value of learning Hebrew, and his commentary of Ecclesiastes based on the Hebrew text was groundbreaking in Christian exegesis. Jerome’s wealthy patroness, Paula, learned Hebrew so well that she chanted the psalms without a Latin accent.285 Jerome shows a fair amount of familiarity with Jewish midrash. He probably had access to written collections of haggadah, but because much of it was given in popular preaching, Jerome may be hiding more contact with the Jews than he found expedient to admit.286

S5.2.4 Augustine Augustine, like many a patristic writer, refers to Jews throughout his writings, but it remains uncertain how familiar he may have been with Jews in North Africa and how much is the standard rhetorical Jew. As a member of the elite class, he undoubtedly rubbed shoulders with Jews in the public arena, whether the baths or the theater. Some Jews may have come to hear his sermons, and the fact that he referred to Jews in his sermons, both to commend and to condemn, supposes a lively social interaction between his congregation and the Jews. He must also censure


Christians for living like Jews. As bishop of Hippo, he adjudicated disputes and is known to have sided with Jewish plaintiffs when justice required.287 And although Augustine sanctioned the use of force against the Donatists, he never advocated coercion against the Jews to force them into the church. From his early years, Augustine was aware of the importance Jews played in the providence of God and the necessity of the Hebrew Scriptures for all Christian theology. Like the apologists of previous generations who fought a polemic on two fronts, against the Jews for the truth of Christ and in support of the Jews against the Gnostics who rejected the God of Abraham and Moses, so Augustine in his generation spoke out against Jews and those Christians who judaized, yet he defended the importance of the Jews against the Manichaeans, who rejected the God of the Israelites as an evil daemon that had no relationship to Christ and therefore repudiated the value of the Hebrew Bible.288 The argument of Augustine corrected that of earlier generations, from PseudoBarnabas and Justin Martyr to Tertullian. They had dismissed the validity of Jewish law, arguing that God had never intended the law to be followed literally, rather, allegorically and therefore spiritually. The true sabbath was the “Sabbath in Christ”; true circumcision was of the heart. The laws were given because of the hardness of the Jewish heart, and so forth.289 On the contrary, said Augustine, the law was meant to be read literally. How else could Paul have praised the law along with the covenants, the patriarchs, and according to the flesh, the Christ?290 Christ came in a Jewish body and fulfilled perfectly Jewish law. To read the Hebrew Bible only as allegory undermined the lives of the patriarchs and the prophets and in turn undermined the validity of the promises to Abraham. The Law is the Hebrew Bible, an essential historical stage in the salvation history of God. Where Jerome did not accept the Jewish practices of the first generation of Jewish believers as legitimate, Augustine did.291 Augustine solved the dilemma of the once valid prophecy and now invalid laws by the scheme of successive ages, or dispensations: Before the Law, Under the Law, Under Grace, and In Peace.292 Augustine distinguished the age of the Jews, under the law, from the age of the church, under grace. The salvation of God flows from one age to the next. The passage between the ages was made by Christ. Just as he left the Father to become incarnate, “so, too, he left his mother, the synagogue of the Jews which cleaved to the carnality of the Old Testament, and was united to the church his holy bride, that in the peace of the New Testament the two might be one flesh.”293 The dignity given to the synagogue as the mother of Christ legitimated the Judaism of Jesus and the continued observance of the law by the first generation of believers, such as James. Augustine thought it best that the first believers in Jesus give up their observance of the law gradually, as one closes a door, rather than suddenly, as if to say the law had always been an error. Timothy, indeed, had exercised his freedom and placed himself under the law in that time by his circumcision, for a higher purpose.294 The time had come, however, to leave the former age under the law and cling to the age of grace. The fact that the Jews had not come under grace was also part of divine providence. Their once legitimate standing as the people of God under the law had


atrophied into another legitimate standing. Now the Jews are “the servants of their brethren. For what else is this nation now but a desk for the Christians, bearing the law and the prophets, and testifying to the doctrine of the Church, so that we honor in the sacrament what they disclose in the letter?”295 The Jews are now book carriers for Christians; they are “our librarians.”296 As librarians of divine prophecy and the historical record of the age under the law, Jews have new raison d’être. They affirmed the antiquity of the prophecies against pagan accusations that Christians have not written them up ex eventu, and by their unbelief, they fulfill prophecy. So, lest those that were to preach Christ to the world should be thought to have forged the prophecies which speak of Christ as to be born, to work miracles, to suffer unjustly, to die, to rise again, to ascend to heaven, to publish the gospel of eternal life among all nations, the unbelief of the Jews has been made of signal benefit to us; so that those who do not receive in their heart for their own good these truths, carry, in their hands for our benefit the writings in which these truths are contained. And the unbelief of the Jews increases rather than lessens the authority of the books, for this blindness is itself, foretold. They testify to the truth by their not understanding it. By not understanding the books which predict that they would not understand, they prove these books to be true.297

Augustine concluded that God has marked the Jews, like Cain, to wander the earth, and the mark is their laws: circumcision, sabbath, the sacrifice of Passover, and the unleavened bread. But God has also marked them, like Cain, for protection. His central proof text was “Slay them not, lest my people forget: scatter them by thy power; and bring them down, O Lord our shield.”298 The Jewish people remain under divine auspices, and the church may not harm them or prevent them from observing their ancient customs. The Jews are the protected witness to divine truth. The preservation of some Jews for salvation, and others not, fades into the mystery of divine election.

S5.2.5 Philo Christianus The reputation of Philo of Alexandria among Christians, established by Clement and Origen, was further elevated during the early Christian empire. Jerome calls Philo “the most erudite man among the Jews.” Among literati who cited pagan authors in defense of the faith, he lists Josephus and “Philo whom critics call the second or the Jewish Plato.”299 Jerome gave Philo a place in his Lives of Illustrious Men and passed along the bon mot, “either Plato philonized or Philo platonized.”300 Ambrose appropriated vast passages of Philo’s writings into his own work via translation into Latin. It was after Ambrose became a bishop and realized his lack of preparation for the position that he immersed himself in study under the guidance of the presbyter Simplicianus and acquired his knowledge of Philo, along with pagan and Christian literati. Although Ambrose refers to the Jewish philosopher only once, and then to criticize him for lack of insight,301 it has been estimated that Ambrose “borrows” from Philo 600 times. He naturally relied on Philo for his allegorical exegesis of Scripture, but he also used Philo to attack pagan critics of


the faith. Ambrose was instrumental in passing along Philo’s approach to mystical thought, which he described as “sober intoxication” or “a divine intoxication more sober than sobriety itself.” Ambrose used it in his famous verse on the hymn Splendor paternae gloriae:302 May Christ be our food, and the Faith our drink. Let us joyfully drink the sober drunkenness of the Spirit.

Augustine probably read Philo in Latin translations of Ambrose or Jerome. Although he relied on Philo many times in his writings, he mentioned him by name only once and this in his reply to Faustus the Manichaean. The antipathy of Manichaeans toward Jews was far stronger than that of most Christians, and Augustine perhaps delights in commending “Philo, a Jew of great learning, whom the Greeks speak of as rivaling Plato in eloquence.” In this reference, Augustine points out that Philo correctly interpreted the dimensions of Noah’s ark as a type of the human body.303 The door of the ark, an opening in the side, was a difficulty that Philo explained as the orifice for defecation. Augustine explained that Philo’s marvelous interpretation of the ark was nevertheless marred by the unfortunate explanation because he was not a believer. Had the veil been removed from his face, Augustine assures us, Philo would have understood that the ark foreshadowed the body of Christ, and the door opening in the side of the ark was the wound in Christ’s side from which flowed the sacraments of the church.304 In the Greek East, Philo fared well in his Alexandrian milieu. Didymus the Blind (313–398), a devotee of Origen, cited Philo at least 7 times in his extant works, most often in his Commentary on Genesis. Athanasius may have relied on Philo’s image of the king and architect, God and Logos, at creation in his exposition of Prov 8:22, when Sophia (= Logos) says, “The Lord created me for his works.”305 Isidore of Pelusium (ca. 365–440), who dwelt in a monastery some 150 miles east of Alexandria, championed Philo as the Jewish master of allegory. He advised various clergymen who engaged the Jews in dialogue to say that “the ignorance of you Jews is refuted by two of your own writers who lived after the coming of Christ, Philo the master of speculative thought and Josephus the great historian.”306 He further states that Philo allegorized nearly the whole of the Old Testament for its deeper meaning, as Christians were wont to do. In a letter on the doctrine of the Trinity, he appealed to Philo as one intellectual Jew who saw that the Logos was indeed God. For the teaching of the truth has embedded the concept of the holy Trinity so clearly and lucidly also in the Old Testament for those who wish to observe it that Philo, though a Jew and a zealous one at that, in the writings which he left behind comes into conflict with his own religion. When he examines the words spoken by God, “in the image of God I made man” (Gen. 9:6), he is constrained and compelled by the truth to recognize the divine Logos as God.307

While the Alexandrian school remained faithful to Philo’s allegorical interpretation of Scripture, the Antiochene school that stressed the literal interpretation


ignored or attacked Philo. John Chyrsostom never mentions Philo, and Theodore of Mopsuestia led the attack on Philo. Although Theodore’s aim was directed against Origen, he condemned Philo for often ignoring the historical events of Scripture and explaining the Mosaic account of creation by rules of arithmetic, for which the motivation was love of glory. And Origen, instead of studying the previous masters of the church, learned his exegesis from Philo, a Jew, who learned it from the pagans. The Antiochenes rejected allegory because it was invented by pagans to explain away their myths, and in applying it to Scripture, the genuine historical events lose credibility. The literal interpretation should always prevail. On the few occasions a biblical author used allegory, such as Jesus on Jonah and the fish, or Paul on Hagar and Sarah, it was not to dismiss the literal but add new meaning to the original event. The Cappadocian fathers, Basil and his younger brother Gregory of Nyssa, used Philo. Basil remarked in a letter that “Philo, on the authority of some Jewish tradition, explains the manna to have been of such a nature that it changed with the taste of the eater.”308 This explanation is not found in Philo’s extant works but probably came from the lost sections of Questions on Exodus. Elsewhere, in his homilies, Basil often incorporates insights from Philo. Gregory of Nyssa (ca. 338–395) used Philo profusely in his writings. He twice accused the Arian theologian Eunomius of plagiarizing Philo “the Hebrew.” He exposed Eunomius in order to show his readers “the close relationship between the doctrine of Eunomius and the reasoning of the Jews.” The association of Arianism with Jewish thought was a tactic used to label Arians heretics, and their theology a “new Judaic sect.” Gregory called on the Arians to leave the church and return to the synagogues of the Jews.309 Arians did exploit the writings of Philo, whose apophaticism, the unknowability of God’s essence, suited their approach. Because God is unknowable, an intermediary was necessary, and Philo introduced his Logos metaphor to bridge the gap between the unknowable God and human knowledge of God. Philo stressed the difference between knowing God by his gifts to the world and knowing God as he is, the existent One. Arians concluded that the created Logos, Christ, at one time did not exist, and therefore was inferior to God. To any Jews who made an effort to understand what the Christians were debating, the Arian approach would have been far more palatable. But it was not just Arians who fished from Philo’s pond, and it is fair to say that Philo is a prominent patriarch of both Arianism and orthodoxy. The importance of Philo to Christianity is proved by the later “conversion” of Philo and the honorary doctorate bestowed on Philo Christianus by the church.310 The process began from Philo’s On the Contemplative Life, in which he praises the monastic Therapeutae for their asceticism and philosophy. In his Ecclesiastical History, Eusebius included the curious belief of unexplained origin that the Therapeutae, so called for their powers of healing, were the earliest Christian community in Alexandria. It is not impossible that some Therapeutae became Christians or that some Christians joined the Therapeutae. It is possible that in the postapostolic generation a group of monastic Christians evolved from some roots among the Therapeutae. If so, we should expect some evidence of it from Clement and Origen,


but there is none. Eusebius also reported a tradition that Philo “came to Rome in the time of Claudius to speak to Peter, who was at that time preaching to those there.” Eusebius associates Luke’s picture of the first Christians in Jerusalem with Philo’s description of the Therapeutae and associates their communal living. He concludes: Moreover, from this very accurate description of the life of our ascetics it will be plain that he [Philo] not only knew but welcomed, reverenced, and recognized the divine mission of the apostolic men of his day, who were, it appears of Hebrew origins, and thus still preserved most of the ancient customs in a strictly Jewish manner.311

Jerome repeats the traditions and adds that Philo was of priestly descent. He also stressed that Philo befriended Peter in Rome, and because of the friendship Philo wrote his book On the Contemplative Life, describing the first church of Mark the Evangelist at Alexandria. Jerome credits them with forming the first monasteries and establishing the rules of monastic life that was still emulated in his own day. Epiphanius muddles things up by mentioning a book by Philo entitled On the Iessaioi (Essenes?). In the book, he claims that Philo visited a community of early Christians living in monasteries near Lake Mareotis and spent a Passover with them. He was so impressed by them that he wrote up their faith and regimen. Scholarship does not take Epiphanius seriously at this point. He clearly depends on Eusebius but may be using available hearsay, if he is not inventing it outright. The Syriac bishop, Marutha of Maipherkat, believed Philo had prepared letters on monasticism for James the brother of Jesus. The church historian Sozomen, in an effort to describe the origins of Christian monasticism, mentions Philo “the Pythagorean” and recaps the description of Eusebius on the “most virtuous of the Hebrews assembled from all parts of the world.” In this narrative, Philo seems to describe certain Jews who had embraced Christianity, and yet retained the customs of their nation; for no vestiges of this manner of life are to be found elsewhere: and hence I conclude that this philosophy flourished in Egypt from this period.312

By this path the Theraputae of Philo became the disciples of Mark and founders of Christian monasticism. Philo the Christian wrote a book about them. The tradition survived as history, transmitted to the English by the Venerable Bede, until it fell upon the rocks of modern historical criticism. His prestige was enhanced by the view, first mentioned by Jerome, that Philo was the author of the Wisdom of Solomon, which many Christians thought should be in the New Testament canon. Later, Cassiodorus (487–580) and Isidore of Seville (570–636) affirmed this view. During the Middle Ages Philo was honored as the author of a deuterocanonical book.

S5.3 Jewish and Christian “Dialogue” Informal debates between Jews and Christians continued unabated, with each generation thinking it might get the better of the other. And they do, depending on who preserved the debate. The topics, however, by now are old.


Eusebius admits at the start of his Proof of the Gospel that he does not view his accumulation of evidence for Christ to be “against the Jews”; rather, the arguments are on their side. For as it establishes Christianity on the basis of antecedent prophecies, so it establishes Judaism from the complete fulfillment of its prophecies. To the Gentiles too it should appeal, if they would fairly consider it.313

This sort of proof-text approach to theological argument seems naive to the modern mind, but it demonstrates a genuine goodwill of belief that lies behind some, perhaps most, of the literary dialogues. Proof was considered possible because both sides drew on a common authority, the Hebrew Scriptures. The dialogues relied mostly on the Septuagint translation, despite the increasing acceptance of Jerome’s reliance on the Hebraica veritas for understanding the Old Testament. For Eusebius, the audience was not only Jews and Christians, but also the still dominant Gentile pagan world. Over the generations, the pagan population gradually turned to Christianity, but the dialogues with the Jews continued to be written because Jews and Judaism remained the great challenge to the Christian faith, and in the day-to-day life of many urban communities, Jews and Christians continued their genuine dialogue, often within the same family. The extent to which Jews are fairly represented in the literature is an ongoing debate, but there is a strong sense that real Jews are represented, and that most dialogues are not merely an exercise in vain triumphalism.

S5.3.1 Christian “Dialogue” with Jews The genre of the dialogue is both evangelistic and apologetic. It answers questions asked by those interested in the Christian faith and provides the faithful with a standard array of responses to the challenges. The dialogues are, therefore, repetitive. There are only so many ways Jews can accuse Christians of worshiping two gods, and Christians accuse Jews of misreading the Scriptures and rejecting the Messiah. The dialogues enlighten us to how their authors thought about Jews, less so their opponents. Modern scholars, therefore, focus on the question of whether they represent formal dialogues that occurred, such as Origen claims to have held with outside judges in attendance,314 and Justin with Trypho, or are they literary constructions in dialogue format? Do the Jewish arguments represent what Jews argued, or are these Jews caricatured straw men? S5.3.1.1 Athanasius and Zacchaeus This is the first nearly complete dialogue since that of Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho (ca. 160). The dialogue purports to be between Athanasius, the bishop of Alexandria (ca. 328–373), and Zacchaeus, a Torah teacher of the Jews. It was probably written in Alexandria, or somewhere in Egypt, because the Scripture proofs emphasize Egypt, and a section of the dialogue argued that Christ now reigns over Egypt.315

570 Vines Intertwined Zacchaeus: You Christians are deceived. First, because you think that there are other gods besides the one and only God, when the Scripture everywhere says that there is one God. Hear, Israel, the Lord your God is one (Deut 6:4). . . . And second, you are deceived because you say that the Messiah is God, and that he is subject to suffering, and that he was born from a woman. When you hear this, are you not ashamed? Athanasius: Do you then desire that I will show to you that it was written formerly in the Scripture that the Messiah is also God, and they are not two Gods? And then, the Messiah is subject to suffering, and is born from a woman, and also that it is not a shame to those who call on Him? Zacchaeus: Show me that the Messiah is God and they are not two Gods. Athanasius: First, you must be taught that the Messiah is God, and then you will learn that they are not two Gods. Zacchaeus: Proceed.

In discussing the nature of God, Zacchaeus accuses Athanasius of worshiping at least two powers. Athanasius answers that God is not singular in the sense of monadic, that he spoke to Christ when he said, “Let us make man in our image” (Gen 1:26). Zacchaeus replies that God spoke to himself or the angels but then admits it could have been to Wisdom (Sophia) or the Logos, neither of whom are the Messiah. Athanasius answers that whomever God addressed, the person shared the image and likeness of God, because God said our image, not my image. Zacchaeus asks if that does not mean two gods. Athanasius continues with analogy of two lights yet a single substance of light, to explain the Christian view of God. Zacchaeus finally grants that God and Wisdom are one, but Wisdom is not the Messiah born of woman. The dialogue goes on to demonstrate that the incarnation and crucifixion was prophesied. The second part of the dialogue demonstrates that Jesus, as Messiah, reigns in Egypt, that he fulfills all the messianic prophecies, and that the Gospels are trustworthy. In a third part, Athanasius argues that Jewish practices found in the Hebrew Scriptures have come to an end. The dialogue concludes with the conversion of Zacchaeus. You have convinced me from all points of view that our fathers acted impiously in crucifying the Messiah. It has appeared from what you have said that he was their expectation, but the Jews forfeited their hope. What, therefore, must I do to be saved?

The dialogue is lopsided, and the surrender of Zacchaeus contrived. But it covers topics that would have been disputed by Jews and Christians, and therefore it reflects some background of Jewish-Christian relations. For example, they dispute the authority of the book of Baruch, a Jewish apocryphal work adopted by Christians, and behind this dispute is the nature of the biblical canon, though it is not discussed. The loss of Jerusalem to the Jews is mentioned, that it was destroyed because of the Jews but rebuilt in honor of the Christians. The standard Jewish charge that Jesus was merely a magician is mentioned, and when the Gospels are


adduced as proof of miracles, Zacchaeus replies, “I do not believe in your Gospels,” which reminds us that only the Hebrew Scriptures served as the common authority in debates, and the Jews must be convinced by their own Scriptures. S5.3.1.2 Simon the Jew and Theophilus the Christian The author of this dialogue is a certain Evagrius (mid-fifth century), possibly the disciple of Martin of Tours, who claims it is the record of a recent debate. It is the oldest dialogue in Latin, dated to the early fifth century.316 The dialogue covers monotheism, the divine sonship and Davidic lineage of the Messiah, circumcision, the suffering Messiah, Sabbath, and dietary laws. Simon the Jew throws down the challenge: Simon: O worshiper of the cross, bearer of the sign, you profess to be an authority on Christian law. You will have me as your patient listener, if only in the face of my interrogation you can prove the truth—not with the allurements of speeches or with the clever arguments of words, but with the presence of the law. But if today you win a victory over me, I will become a Christian; or, if I conquer you, I will make a Nazarene become a Jew. Theophilus: “Let not the humpback boast himself as erect.”317 Simon: Whom do you worship? Theophilus: God Simon: I dispute with you about the crucified Christ, whom you call Lord Theophilus: We speak certainly and we assert boldly that the Lord is God.

And so the dialogue begins. Many Scripture verses are put forward on the singular nature of God, with the Christian clinching verse “Let us make man.” The book of Baruch is used by Theophilus, but he quotes a statement not found in the extant Baruch: “This one is called my anointed one, my chosen one, sprung from an untainted womb, was born and suffered.” The standard arguments against the continued validity of Jewish law are put forward. Circumcision refers to that of the heart. The sabbath is only figurative, proved by Joshua’s march around Jericho on a sabbath, and that the Maccabees fought on the sabbath. The prohibition against swine’s flesh is to teach against pig-like behavior. There is little that is new to the arguments, but they have reached a new audience in the Latin West. S5.3.1.3 Timothy the Christian and Aquila the Jew This long dialogue claims to be the record of a recent debate, and it is possible that behind the elaborate development of the dialogue lies a genuine debate that took place during the reign of Cyril of Alexandria (412–444).318 The extant text, however, is from the later fifth or sixth centuries. Timothy and Aquila prepare the ground by a review of the canon of Scripture on which they will draw. Concerning the books of the Jews, Aquila notes that Deuteronomy was not dictated by God but given a second time by Moses, and


therefore it was not placed in the Ark of the Covenant. Judith is included prior to Esther in the canon, and Tobit, Wisdom of Solomon, and Sirach are acknowledged as apocryphal but valuable. Aquila asks about the New Covenant books that may be used. When Timothy expresses surprise, Aquila says, “Just as you wish to convince me out of my canon, so do I want to do the same from your covenant.” These are the Gospels, Acts of the Holy Apostles, their epistles, and fourteen epistles of Paul (including Hebrews). The book of Revelation is not included. The perpetual virginity of the holy Mary is discussed at length. In an interesting novelty, the incarnation is likened to the formation of the most prized Indian pearl. “When the flash of the lightning fills the sea . . . the creature encloses it while the lightning is still surrounding it.” And it is clear that when it encloses itself, something of the later is received within it. So from the flash of lightning and from water, the pearl comes into being. The Jewish challenges to produce from Torah prophecies of the crucifixion are met by allegory, or typology, in which an event is interpreted by a later fulfillment. The crucifixion was prefigured by Moses during the battle of Israel and the Amalekites (Exod 17), such that when Moses stretched out his arms, Israel won the victory, and when he lowered his arms, Amalek won. Amalek is interpreted as the Antichrist, and the devil, and Moses the crucified Lord. S5.3.1.4 Severus of Minorca A different type of dialogue written in the early fifth century is the Letter on the Conversion of the Jews.319 Around 417–418, a Jewish community on the island of Minorca was thrown into upheaval by the instigation of the local bishop, Severus ( fl. 400–430), who wrote a record of the event in a circular letter designed as a mission tract. Minorca and Majorca are the two principle islands of the Balearics off the coast of Spain in the west Mediterranean Sea. They had been inhabited since the Bronze Age, often a place of refuge in the turbulent Mediterranean world. The origin of a Jewish presence on the islands is a mystery, but refugees from the Diaspora war provide a likely beginning. By the fifth century, a community of 540 Jews lived in the city of Magona at the eastern end of Minorca. The Jews had lived in harmony with the Christians on the island (30 miles long by 10 miles wide), greeting each other politely in keeping with a long tradition. The Jewish elite of the city served in the positions of leadership. Chief among them was Theodorus, a wealthy man, well bred, well married, and honored by Jews and Christians alike. He had served as defensor civitatis and remained a patron to his fellow citizens. In the synagogue he was known as a Father of Fathers and a teacher of the Law. Severus took up the office of bishop in 416, residing in the city of Jamona at the west end of the island. At this time a pilgrim carrying relics of Saint Stephen to Spain deposited them for safe keeping in the church of Magona. The presence of the sacred relics, according to Severus, shook the Christians from their sinful lethargy, and out of love for eternal salvation they began debating Jews over the Law in every public space, waging a war of words even in the homes. It should also be remembered that the sack of Rome (410) had energized an apocalyptic fervor, and many believed the end was near. As tension increased, the Jews remembered


the Maccabees and prepared to defend their faith to the death. Finally, Severus organized the Christians and challenged the Jews to a formal religious debate. The Jews declined, but when charged of stockpiling weapons, they agreed to let the Christians inspect their synagogue. On the day of the inspection, the Christians advanced to the synagogue singing a hymn to Christ, “Their memory has perished with a crash and the Lord endures forever” (Ps. 9:7–8), and in response, writes Severus, the “Jews also began to sing it with a wondrous sweetness.” But alas, before the Christians reached the synagogue, if we may believe the account, a few Jewish women began throwing stones on the Christians. This led to a riot, in which the Christians broke into the synagogue, removed the Torah and silver, and burned the building to the ground. At this point, Theodorus was prepared to debate the Christians, which took place next to the destroyed synagogue. Theodorus boldly argued for the Law and parried all the Christian objections. When the Christians saw they could not win, they offered up a prayer to heaven and shouted en masse: “Theodorus, believe in Christ!” And here, the miracle of the story happened, for the Jews heard the words, “Theodorus has believed in Christ!” In dismay and terror, the Jews fled. Theodorus had not believed, but amazed by the turn of events, he agreed to convert after he had shared his conviction with the rest of his community. And so in the end, by this “miracle,” all the Jews of Minorca converted to Christianity. While the tale has clearly been embellished, it is not necessarily a pious fiction. Many details speak to historical realities. For example, Jews did serve as public officials for an entire community of Christians as well as Jews. And the story describes an illegal usurpation of authority by the bishop, which he nevertheless felt was justified by a higher calling. It has therefore cautiously been accepted as a dramatized and adorned account of a historical incident in the turbulent early fifth century. We must remember that supernatural events, more easily believed in times past, carried great persuasion. Jews did convert to Christianity, and the conversion of a whole community speaks more to social solidarity than to individual convictions. If Theodorus, like a Visigoth king, decided to convert to Christianity, whatever his reasons may have been, the rest of the Jewish community might have followed without grave concern for theology and assumed they could keep the sabbath and kosher laws privately. The addition of both communities singing Ps 9 gives an irenic, if momentary, picture of antiphonal choirs singing the praise of God, one that was probably more true and more widespread in the silent folds of history than could ever be discovered.

S5.3.2 Rabbinic “Dialogue” with Christians S5.3.2.1 Heresy Debates The extent to which rabbis themselves engaged Christians is more difficult to establish than the contact of Christian leaders with Jews, but the admission of Rabbi Nahman (d. 356) that Rabbi Idi excelled at answering heretics testifies to such dialogue. One dispute between a Min (probably a Jewish believer) and Rabbi Idi on


two powers in heaven is preserved in the Babylonian Talmud.320 A similar argument got Elisha ben Abuya anathematized. Three verses from Exodus are used, and the key passage is Exod 23:20–21: “I am going to send an angel in front of you, to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared. Be attentive to him and listen to his voice; do not rebel against him, for he will not pardon your transgression; for my name is in him.” The argument is whether or not Scripture implies there are two divine beings worthy of worship. Min: It is written, And unto Moses He said, Come up to the Lord (Exod 24:1). But surely it should have stated, Come up unto me [if it is God speaking]. Idi: It was Metatron who spoke, whose name is similar to that of his Master, for it is written, For my name is in him (Exod 23:21). Min: But if so, we should worship him! Idi: The same passage, however, says: Do not rebel against him [i.e., exchange me not for him]. Min: But if so, why is it stated: He will not pardon your transgression? (Exod 23:21). Idi: In truth we would not accept him even as a messenger [parvanka], for it is written, And he said unto him, If Thy presence go not with us (Exod 33:15).

The heretic makes his case that Scripture admits to a second divine being worthy of worship, which he identifies with the Angel of the Lord in Exod 23:20, and which, if granted, will open the way for worshiping Christ. Idi, admitting the grammar requires a second voice, identifies the speaker as Metatron, one of the highest angels in heaven.321 Idi’s argument is that high divine beings, whether guides or important messengers, are still not to be worshiped. S5.3.2.2 Oral Torah A major Christian challenge to the Jews was their appropriation of the Hebrew Bible. In the Diaspora, the Septuagint had received the status of inspired Scripture through the legend of the translation by 72 elders. Akiba’s encouragement of a new Greek translation by Aquila was the first step in the rabbinic response to Christians like Justin Martyr who insisted Isaiah (7:14) had prophesied the virgin birth. But that was merely to help all the Jews who did not read Hebrew. Eventually it became common parlance, as Jerome affirmed, that the Hebrew Scriptures remained the only textus veritas of the Christian Old Testament. Origen’s assumption that the Apocryphal Susanna was a translation of a lost Hebrew original (hence inspired), despite its Greek puns that could not work in Hebrew, prompted the caution of Julius Africanus and encouraged Origen to learn Hebrew. As we saw in the debate between Origen and Rabbi Johanan b. Nappaha on the Song of Songs, Origen, perhaps more than any other church father, challenged the rabbinic interpretations of Scripture and their claim to exclusive authority.322 As such, he is given some credit for the rabbinic development of oral Torah, a concept long in the making but that can be documented only in literature later than


Origen and Hosaiah in the mid-third century. Indeed, oral Torah as it is known may never have happened without the Christian challenge. The claim of authority going back to the Pharisees, whom Matthew’s Jesus and Josephus argued were the most accurate interpreters of the law, was taken up by the sages, first against other Jews and then against Christians. The prologue to the tractate Avot (Sayings of the Fathers) does not mention oral Torah but implies something like it. Moses received the Torah from Sinai and committed it to Joshua, and Joshua to the elders, and the elders to the Prophets; and the Prophets committed it to the men of the Great Assembly. They said three things: Be deliberate in judgment, raise up many disciples, and make a fence around Torah.

The “fence around Torah” includes the traditions and teachings of the sages. For the Jews, it was a question of whether or not the legal rulings of the rabbis ought to be accepted. As the rabbis got more control over the Jewish courts, their rulings set legal precedent. We are left to speculate on the level of rabbinic influence in the Mediterranean Diaspora, but by the fifth century, the rabbis appear to have garnered a general acceptance of the notion of oral Torah among most Jews in the East. The oral Torah developed in support of their legal authority among Jews and in their claim against Christians to be the correct interpreters of Torah. The key scriptural proof text for oral Torah was Exod 34:17: “And the Lord said to Moses: Write these words; in accordance with (al peh) these words I have made a covenant with you and with Israel.” The phrase “al peh,” literally “on the mouth of,” is usually translated “in accordance with” or something similar.323 The words al peh, however, gave scriptural authority to the idiom, Torah she-be-al-peh, “teaching on the mouth of,” or oral Torah. The distinction between the two Torahs was taken quite seriously. R. Judah bar Simon said: I have made a covenant with you and with Israel. [It was done] through writing and through word of mouth: For these words are by mouth. If you preserve what is in writing in writing and what is by word of mouth by word of mouth, I have made a covenant with you. But if you change what is by mouth into writing and what is in writing into word of mouth, I have not made a covenant with you. R. Judah b. R. Shallum the Levite said: Moses wanted the Mishnah also to be in writing, but the Holy One foresaw that the peoples of the world were going to translate the Torah and read it in Greek. Then they would say: “We too are Israel.” The Holy One said to him [Hos 8:12]: Should I write the full abundance of my Torah [including the Mishnah] for you? If so, they would have been reckoned as strangers. And why all this? Because the Mishnah is a mystery [Greek mysterion] belonging to the Holy One, and the Holy One reveals his mystery only to the righteous. Thus it is stated [in Ps 25:14]: The secret of the Lord is for those who fear him.324

The “peoples of the world” can only refer to Gentile Christians. In another exposition of the verse, God instructs Moses to “give them the Scripture in writing, but the Mishnah, the Aggadah, and the Talmud orally.”325 Thereafter, the Torah given to Moses at Sinai included the oral Torah along with the written Torah, and it confirmed the intimate relationship the Jews had with their God. It could even be argued


that Abraham obeyed the oral Torah, for God promised to make his descendants great because Abraham obeyed God’s Torahs, the written and the oral.326 The fullfledged principle of exclusive oral Torah was a keen defense against Christian claims to scriptural truth, but it was not accepted by all Jews for several centuries, well into the Middle Ages, as the eighth-century Karaite rebellion would demonstrate. S5.3.2.3 Jesus The sages of both empires were more powerful in this era than ever before, but the Babylonian rabbis had less to fear in speaking out against Christianity than did their Palestinian colleagues. The charge of sorcery that was applied to Jesus, as we have seen, goes back to the Gospels and surfaces periodically in the Jewish and pagan sources. By the Talmudic age, the charge has become part of the authentic rabbinic tradition history. The Babylonian Talmud preserves a legend of how Jesus became an apostate. The incident is curiously, perhaps erroneously, set more than a century before Jesus, during the reign of the Hasmonean king Jannaeus (103–76 b.c.e.), and begins with the execution of 600 Jewish opponents, which the rabbis assumed were Pharisees, and therefore the rabbis of their day.327 Important to the incident is the word aksania, a feminine noun for both “inn” and female “innkeeper.” Joshua uses aksania in the first sense and Jesus in the second. Also, a trumpet is blown at an excommunication ceremony, and more than one trumpet indicates a more serious reason for excommunication. The legend is preceded by a maxim, to which the stories are directed. Our Rabbis have taught: Always let the left hand thrust away and the right hand draw near. Not like Elisha who thrust Gehazi away with both his hands, and not like R. Joshua b. Perahiah who thrust one of his disciples [Jesus] away with both his hands. . . . When King Jannaeus put the Rabbis to death, Simeon b. Shetah was hid by his sister, while R. Joshua b. Perahiah fled to Alexandria in Egypt. When there was peace, Simeon b. Shetah sent this message to him: “From me, Jerusalem, the Holy city, to thee Alexandria in Egypt. O my sister, my husband [his teacher R. Joshua] dwells in your midst and I abide desolate.” Rabbi Joshua arose [with his disciple, Jesus] and came back and found himself in a certain inn where they paid him great respect. He said: “How beautiful is this aksania!” Jesus said to him, “My master, her eyes are narrow!” He replied to him, “Wicked person! Is it with such thoughts that you occupy yourself!” Rabbi Joshua sent forth four hundred trumpets and excommunicated him. On many occasions Jesus came before him, saying “Receive me back”; but he refused to notice him. One day while Rabbi Joshua was reciting the Shema, Jesus came before him. Joshua intended to receive him and he made a sign to him with his hand, but Jesus thought he was repelling him. So he went and set up a brick and worshiped it. R. Joshua said to him, “Repent”; but he answered him, “Thus have I received from you that whoever sinned and caused others to sin is deprived of the power of doing penitence.” A Master has said: The disciple practiced magic and led Israel astray.328

The legend implies that but for a failure to communicate Jesus would have been received back into the rabbinic fold. Since the story tells us how not to treat students, the hyperbolically excessive “four hundred trumpets” admits Jesus was rejected far


too harshly. A similar story about the biblical Elisha and his servant Gehazi, which is earlier and preserved in the Palestinian Talmud, is thought to refer to Paul and his teacher Rabbi Gamaliel.329 If so, we have in these two legends a Jewish admission of mutual responsibility for the parting of the ways. The preservation of the legends does not, however, mean it reflected a majority rabbinic view. The most important rabbinic statement about the historical Jesus comes as a baraita (tradition of the Tannaim) and may well be from the second century, but it is included only in the Babylonian Talmud, and there as part of a discussion on the precautions taken to ensure no innocent person is executed. The specific place and time of the crime are to be published so that anyone who may be able to contradict the accusing witnesses may come forward to do so. Then the tradition about Jesus is introduced as a precedent that contradicts the rule of announcing the time and place of the crime. On the eve of the Passover they hanged Yeshu the Nazarene, and the herald went before him for forty days saying, “Yeshu the Nazarene is going forth to be stoned because he has practiced sorcery and beguiled and led Israel astray. Let everyone knowing aught in his defense come and plead on his behalf.” But they found naught in his favor and hanged him on the eve of the Passover.330

Following the older baraita tradition, the Amora Ulla ( fl. 280–310) says: Do you suppose that Yeshu the Nazarene was one for whom a defense could be made? He was a mesit [enticer], concerning whom Scripture says, Neither shalt thou spare, neither shalt thou conceal him (Deut 13:8[9]). With Yeshu however it was different, for he was connected with the government [i.e., influential].

The question raised by Ulla suggests some later misgiving about the trial and execution, because the place and time of the crime were not announced. The verdict, however, is that he was indeed guilty of enticement to lead Israel astray, but because he had friends in high places, his trial and execution was an exception to the normal procedure and does not constitute a precedent. That is the context for the preservation of the tradition.331 The authors of the baraita accept responsibility for the death of Jesus. The trial and execution of Jesus were in accordance with divine law, and the Roman government was not involved at all in the trial. The charge of sorcery is fundamental in Jewish traditions about Jesus, but Jesus is also accused of incitement and leading Israel astray into apostasy. These are capital crimes under biblical law (Deut 13:6–9 [7–10]). The tradition also knows the death occurred on the eve of Passover, in keeping with the Gospel of John. It assumes Jesus was first stoned to death, then hanged, because the hanging is a ritual act done to a corpse after death by stoning and limited by Mosaic law in that the corpse must be taken down before nightfall (Deut 21:22–23). The Mishnah discussion on the law of hanging says the corpse should be untied immediately after the hanging, to ensure it is not left all night and thus transgress the commandment of God. The emphasis on the hanging of Jesus and not the stoning may reflect the knowledge that he was crucified, not stoned according to the biblical penalty for sorcery and apostasy. The trial, however, was proper. Every effort was made to seek witnesses for the defense, but none were found.


The judgment of Jesus is followed by another baraita on the judgment of his disciples. Yeshu had five disciples, Mattai, Nakai, Netser, Buni and Todah. When Mattai was brought before the court he said to them [the judges], Shall Mattai be executed? It is written, When (matai) shall I come and appear before God? (Ps 42:2 [3]). Thereupon they retorted; Yes, Mattai shall be executed, since it is written, When (matai) will he die and his name perish (Ps 41:5 [6]). When Naqai was brought in he said to them; Shall Naqai be executed? It is written, the innocent (naqi) and the righteous slay thou not (Exod 23:7). Yes, was the answer, Naqai shall be executed, since it is written, in secret places he slays the innocent (naqi) (Ps 10:8). When Netser was brought in, he said; Shall Netser be executed? It is written, And a branch (netser) shall grow forth out of his roots (Is 11:1). Yes, they said, Netser shall be executed, since it is written, But thou art cast forth away from your grave like an abhorred offshoot (netser) (Isa 14:19). When Buni was brought in, he said: Shall Buni be executed? It is written, My son (beni) my first born (Exod 4:22). Yes, they said, Buni shall be executed, since it is written, Behold I will slay your firstborn son (binekha) (Exod 4:23). When Todah was brought in, he said to them; Shall Todah be executed? It is written, A psalm for Thanksgiving (todah) (Ps 100:1). Yes, they answered, Todah shall be executed, since it is written, He who offers the sacrifice of Thanksgiving (todah) honors me (Ps 50:23).332

The tradition is completely contrived. The origin of the tradition may go back to the Bar Kokhba war, when Christians were persecuted,333 but it carries no historical value for Jesus or his disciples. The five disciples are perhaps in contrast to the five disciples of Johanan ben Zakkai, founders of rabbinic Judaism. Efforts to identify any of the disciples named in the Gospels, with the possible exceptions of Mattai to Matthew, and Toda to Thaddaeus, are probably futile. The names are real but adopted for their similarity to the verses applied, and their commentary on Christianity. Mattai is similar to the Hebrew word for “when” and links two verses dealing with sacrifice. Naqai plays upon the verdict of Pilate that Jesus is innocent. Netser may be a pun on Nazarenes (notsrim), but also points to the messianic prophecy of Isa 11:1, applied to Jesus. Buni undoubtedly refers to the Son of God status of Jesus. Todah represents the hymn of praise to be sung at the sacrifice of Thanksgiving, apparently for the sacrificial death of Jesus. Scripture can counter Scripture. In short, the tradition is a clever play on words. It is possible the verses applied to the disciples form the skeleton of a disputation between Christian and Jewish views of Jesus.334 If so, it is among the most elaborate Jewish disputations preserved in the ancient sources. Accordingly, Christians claim Jesus was the sacrifice that brings the world into the presence of God; Jews declare Jesus died for naught and his name will perish. Christians argue the Roman government found Jesus innocent, but Jewish law declared Jesus guilty and deserving of death. Christians say Jesus descended from David in fulfillment


of the messianic prophecy, but the true prophecy was that the “branch” would be an abhorred offshoot, illegitimate, discarded, left unburied. Jesus is said to be the firstborn Son of God, but the correct Scripture reveals he was the firstborn of Pharaoh, the enemy of God and oppressor of the Jews. As for the claim that Jesus has become the sacrifice of the new covenant, it was rather his execution that was pleasing to God. The tradition might represent far more rabbinic disputation with Christians than has been preserved, or far less than modern scholars glean from it. We cannot, however, assume it was widely taught outside the circle of sages or that it is more than the customary rabbinic wordplay with Scripture. Another tradition found only in the Babylonian Talmud portrays three archvillains of Jewish history conjured from hell: Titus, the destroyer of Jerusalem; Balaam, who enticed Israel to sin; and Jesus, who may represent all the sinners of Israel. In the scenario, Onkelos, identified as a nephew of Titus, is considering conversion to Judaism and wishes to know if he should. By incantations, he summons Titus and asks him who is honored in the next world. “Israel,” replies Titus. Onkelos asks if he should join them by conversion. Titus predicts Onkelos will not be able to live by the burdensome laws of Judaism; rather, he should attack and dominate them in this world, and cites Scripture, “Her foes have become the masters” (Lam 1:5). Okelos asks what punishment Titus has received. Daily his ashes are gathered, and he is reconstituted, judged, and burned, and his ashes are scattered. This mirrored the death of Titus on a funeral pyre but reflects his sin of burning the temple, and his punishment had been set up in the previous legend. Onkelos summons Balaam from the netherworld. To the question of who is honored in the other world, Balaam replies, “Israel.” Should Okelos convert? Balaam says, “You shall never promote their welfare or their prosperity as long as you live” (Deut 23:6 [7]). The punishment of Balaam, we are told, is boiling semen, presumably because he enticed Israel into sexual sin with Moabite women (Num 31:16). Then Jesus the Nazarene is summoned. Onkelos: Who is honored in the next world? Jesus: Israel. Onkelos: What then about joining them? Jesus: Seek their welfare, seek not their harm. Whoever touches them touches the apple of his eye (adapted from Zech 2:8 [12]). Onkelos: What is your punishment? Jesus: With boiling excrement.

There follows an anonymous voice: “A master has said, Whoever scoffs at the words of the sages is punished with boiling excrement.” The tradition then invites us to behold the difference between the sinners of Israel and the prophets of Gentiles who worship idols.335


The punishment given to Jesus and all sinners of Israel may be explained by the only other tradition mentioning boiling excrement, which also may point to the crime Jesus committed.336 Typical of rabbinic exegesis, there is a play on words. The biblical text is, “My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh” (Eccl 12:12). Rava made the following exposition: What is the purport of the scriptural text: My son, beware (hizaher) of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end? It means, My son, be more careful (hizaher) in the observance of the words of the Scribes than in the words of the Torah, for in the laws of the Torah there are positive and negative precepts [with varying penalties]; but, as to the laws of the Scribes, whoever transgresses any of the enactments of the Scribes incurs the death penalty. In case you should object that if they are of real value, why were they not recorded in the Torah? Scripture stated: Of making many books there is no end. And much study (lahag) is a weariness of flesh (yegi‘at basar). Rabbi Papa son of R. Aha ben Adda stated in the name of Rabbi Aha b. Ulla: This teaches that he who scoffs (la‘ag) at the words of the Sages will be condemned to boiling excrements. Rava demurred: Is it written: “scoffs” (la‘ag)? The expression is “study” (lahag)! Rather, this is the exposition: He who studies [the words of the Sages] feels the taste of meat (basar).

The exposition defends oral Torah, that is, the words of the scribes, to be more important than written Torah. The wordplay in Ecclesiastes does not inherently flow to the punishment of Jesus in its original context, but it is a possible explanation for an otherwise unexplained punishment. If so, the crime of Jesus appears to have been scoffing at the words of the sages or at the teachings of the Pharisees. The humiliation of the teachers of Israel in the Gospels has stung the rabbis, but justice will be theirs in the next world. There may even be a rabbinic awareness of the famous Gospel tradition:337 Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth enters the stomach, and goes out into the sewer? But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile. (Matt 15:17–20)

From the rabbinic perspective, it is not just what comes out of the mouth that defiles, but also what goes in, as Moses taught, and as the sages expound. Because Jesus rejected the teachings of Moses and the sages and taught others to do so (Mark used the incident to declare all foods clean), Jesus is condemned to sit in the sewage of humanity. Given the harsh judgment on Jesus, and the company they provide him in hell, the tradition places a remarkably positive response in the mouth of Jesus concerning Israel. Jesus, in contrast to the non-Israelites, Balaam and Titus, has remained faithful to the covenant. Furthermore, his words may be directed to the Christian church: “Seek the welfare of Israel.”


S5.4 Jewish and Christian Magic The charge of sorcery against Jesus was not because he exercised supernatural powers, but he led Israel astray. Even in his own day, if the charge of sorcery was leveled against Jesus by other Jews, it was because he remained outside their sphere of influence, and they could not vouch for his relationship with God. The distinction between sorcerer and miracle worker was a point of view, one as nebulous as the distinction between religion and magic. A customary distinction may be described: religion supplicates while magic manipulates. In antiquity, the two concepts, magic and religion, were inseparable, and probably still are. Jews and Christians prayed for divine aid against the evils of the world, both seen and unseen, but they also wore amulets, uttered incantations, and by various means conjured the powers of the world, both seen and unseen. These powers might be under the command of God or Satan, but not necessarily. From the earliest vestiges of humanity, there was an independent power that roamed the wastelands of human existence, perhaps like the Bedouin who acknowledge no empire. Good and evil spirits certainly predate the notion of Satan. The Testament of Solomon, a collection of traditions about Solomon’s knowledge of magic and demonology written between the first and third centuries, was composed in a Jewish milieu and adapted by Christians.338 It validates the engagement in magic of both Jews and Christians. For pagans, theurgy, the practice of communicating with good spirits to receive miraculous aid, came of age as a religion in this era, championed by Iamblichus (ca. 250–330), practiced by many Neoplatonists, and preferred by Julian the Apostate to his former Christianity. Theurgy (theorgia, “god-working”) blended HellenisticEgyptian magical procedures and philosophical mysticism. Spirits were in everything, but under the authority of the most high god. Later practice of theurgy was known as white magic, distinct from black magic, or necromancy. The mysterious ineffable name of YHWH became widespread in pagan Greek magical formulae throughout the Mediterranean world. Because it was no longer pronounced, Gentiles wrote it out with rapt uncertainty, Iao, Iae, Iaoue, along with his titles of adoration, Adonai, Eloai, Elion, Sabaoth. The name Iao is the most common, since it is the Greek transliteration of YHW (Yaho), as found in the Elephantiné documents; for example, “Great [god] in heaven revolving the world, the true god IAŌ! ruler of all,” which is similar to Revelation 1:8, and a magical prayer addressed to “Master, IAŌ, lightbearer”; also “I conjure you by IAŌ SABAŌTH ADŌNAI ABRASAX, and by the great god, IAŌ.”339 Many Jews and Christians wore amulets for protection. Egyptian monks specialized in religious paraphernalia, and well they might. According to one rabbi, ten measures of witchcraft descended to the world, and Egypt took nine. Several Jewish amulets have been found in synagogue excavations, in the buildings or buried under the Torah ark.340 Most amulets were protection from demons, or from people, Gentile or Israelite, or of the opposite sex. Women wore amulets against Lilith, a female demon, or group of demons, known in ancient Mesopotamia from the biblical period onward. She might attack women in childbirth, suck the blood


from a newborn babe, the marrow from its bones, and eat the flesh. In Talmudic lore she is described as a woman with long hair and wings who might attach herself to men who sleep alone in a house, and give birth to demonic offspring. She is mentioned once in the Bible: “Wildcats shall meet hyenas, Goatdemons shall greet each other; there too the lilith shall repose, and find herself a resting place.”341 Older translations, prior to the discovery of the Mesopotamian lilith, assumed the word was related to the Hebrew layla (“night”) and offered expressions of a night danger: screech owl (kjv), night hag (rsv 1952), night monster (jps 1917). A common amulet, often a disk with a painted eye on it, protected against the evil eye. The evil eye may be merely a malicious look based upon envy, but a glance that by itself can bring harm. The quip “If looks could kill” was believed possible. But one also had to guard against the evil eye from within, for the envy of the heart proceeds through the eye.342 The painted eye of the amulet reflected the malicious envy back upon the person whence it came. The prevalence of magical incantation bowls in the archaeological record reveals widespread practice in magic by Jews, and many bowls were made by Jews for Gentiles, including Christians. The inside of the bowls were inscribed with an incantation for some protection, often including crude drawings of demons or angels, and were buried under or around the house. It is thought they were used to trap demons. Demons were known to be everywhere, and no one was immune from the powers of this present darkness. Abba Benjamin says: If the eye had the power to see them, no creature could endure the demons. Abaye says: They are more numerous than we are and they surround us like the ridge round a field. Rabbi Huna says: Everyone among us has a thousand on his left hand and ten thousand on his right hand. Rava says: If one wants to discover their footprints, let him take sifted ashes and sprinkle around his bed, and in the morning he will see something like the footprints of a cock. If one wishes to see them, let him take the afterbirth of a black shecat, the offspring of a black shecat, the firstborn of a firstborn, let him roast it in fire and grind it to powder, and then let him put some into his eye, and he will see them. Let him also pour it into an iron tube and seal it with an iron signet that they should not steal it from him. Let him also close his mouth, lest he come to harm. Rabbi Bibi b. Abaye did so, saw them and came to harm. The scholars, however, prayed for him and he recovered.343

The number of demons on the right and left is inspired by “A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand; but it will not come near you” (Ps 91:7). The mishap of Bibi b. Abaye was resolved by prayer, supplicating the higher power. Many more examples are at hand to show the intercourse of magic and religion. Although demons and magical paraphernalia were ubiquitous, it is difficult for the modern mind to assess how Jews and Christians conceived of their


preternatural power, such as it may have been. Everyone respected power. It was taken for granted that holy men had more power over the forces behind nature than most. According to the traditions, many rabbis engaged in magic conspicuously so that Gentiles respected their power and kept a distance. At Antioch, as John Chrysostom knew, Christians in his church were seeking amulets and incantations from Jewish healers, and people were healed. He also suspected some healers were charlatans, as well they may have been. People in need, however, are susceptible to all sorts of abuses and will seek aid wherever they believe it can be found. When prayer fails, magic might succeed. If a Christian healer fails, a Jewish healer is just down the street, and vice versa. As we saw in an earlier tradition, Jews sought the healing power of the name of Jesus. Another example from this era says something of the changing times. The grandson [of Joshua ben Levi] had something stuck in his throat. There came a man who whispered to him in the name of Yeshu ben Pandera, and he recovered. When the doctor came out, Rabbi Joshua said to him, “What did you whisper to him?” He said, “A certain word.” Joshua said, “It were better for him to die rather than this should happen.” And it happened thus to him [that he was healed], as it were an error proceeding from the ruler (Eccl 10:5).344

The lesson applied to the story is that even if a king gives a bad command, it is obeyed. It appears that the grandson of Rabbi Joshua ben Levi was healed in the name of Jesus. Although the rabbi condemned the act and would have preferred that his grandson die, the grandson lived. Rabbi Joshua ben Levi and John Chrysostom were in agreement. Death is better than the healing power of one’s foes, even if it is the same God who is acting. Joshua b. Levi might have preferred that his grandson should die rather than accept healing from a Jewish believer, but he acknowledged that God works through Jewish believers as well as rabbis. Jews and Christians were most likely competitors in the arena of magic, just as they were in theology. One tradition that supports this notion pits Rabbi Joshua b. Hananiah against a heretic (min), almost certainly a Jewish believer. Once Rabbi Eleazar and Rabbi Joshua and Rabbi Akiba went up to bathe in a certain public bath in Tiberias. A certain Min saw them. He said something, and the arched roof held them fast. Rabbi Eleazar said to Rabbi Joshua, “What! Joshua ben Hananiah, see what you can do.” When that Min went out, Rabbi Joshua said something, and the door held him fast, and everyone who entered gave him a blow, and everyone who went out gave him a thrust in the back. The Min said, “Undo what you have done.” They said to him, “Undo, and we will undo.” They each did so. When they had gone out, Rabbi Joshua said, “Well, how clever you are.” He said, “Let us go down to the sea.” When they had gone down to the sea, the Min said something, and the sea was divided. He said to them, “And did not Moses your master do thus in the sea?” They said to him, “Will you not agree with us that Moses our master walked in the midst of it?” He said to them, “Yes.” They said to him, “Then you walk in the midst of it.” He walked in the midst of it. And Rabbi Joshua commanded the Prince of the Sea, and he swallowed him up.345

Joshua’s ability to command the Prince of the Sea is a reflection of his holiness, more than typical magic. The Prince of the Sea, Neptune or Poseidon for pagans,


would have been an angel for Jews. Elsewhere, it is God who commands the Prince of the Sea.346 But this is no ordinary Joshua. He is the same who told God not to interfere in the disputes of the sages, because the Torah is no longer in heaven. Nevertheless, the ability of the Min and Joshua to bind each other in place is magic. Both men know the incantations required to bind, and neither is able to break the bondage. One must outwit the other.

Part Six

(455–640 c.e.)

Chapter 24

End of the Old Roman Empire and the Persecution of Persian Jews (455–491 c.e.)

24.1 Rome and Persia 24.1.1 Old Roman Empire In the East, Emperor Marcian (450–457) had restored the imperial treasury after the Huns no longer drained it. Upon his death, Marcian left no male heir, and the senior commander, Aspar, put forward a suitable Catholic nominee named Leo from the middle ranks of the military. Leo’s installation as emperor marks the inaugural sanction of the church upon the throne. After being raised aloft on the shields of his Germanic soldiers—the traditional acclamation of a new emperor—Leo was escorted to the Church of the Holy Apostles and became the first emperor to be crowned by the patriarch of Constantinople, Anatolius (449–58). The reign of Leo I (457–474) was reasonably stable in a time of great uncertainty. The vacuum of power left by the Huns in the Balkans was filled by the now politically distinct Ostrogoths (Eastern Goths). At this time, a new people known as Isaurians, emerged from the rugged Taurus Mountains of Asia Minor. Unlike the Arian Goths, the Isaurians were nominally Catholic, and under their leader Zeno they had already helped Constantinople defend against the Huns. Leo now elevated the son of the elder Zeno, Tarasikodissa, who assumed the Greek name of his father, Zeno, to the position of Praetorian prefect of the East, and gave his daughter Ariadne in marriage. Ariadne gave him a son, whom they named Leo, thus establishing a line of succession. The collapse of the West in the hindsight of history forms a mosaic of mediocre claimants to power, not unlike the generation that preceded Constantine the Great, but which now gave birth to the barbarian kingdoms that would later comprise the Holy Roman Empire. After the murders of Aetius and Valentinian III in 455, a Gothic nobleman, Flavius Ricimer, rose to power in Rome. In 457, Emperor Leo I named Ricimer patrician, the supreme military commander. Because of his Germanic origin and his Arian faith, he was not eligible to become emperor, but he remained the power behind the puppet throne until his death in 472. The Visigoths proclaimed Avitus of Gaul emperor of the West in 455. The senate of Rome rejected his claim, and he survived but 2 years. Ricimer put forward


an Italian senator, Majorian, as Western emperor in 457. Majorian succeeded in stabilizing parts of Gaul and campaigned against the Visigoths in Spain. From there he amassed a fleet of ships to invade Africa in an effort to restore the grain supply, but the Vandal king Gaiseric destroyed his fleet. When Majorian returned to Rome in 461, Ricimer executed him and set up another Italian, Livius Severus, on the throne. Severus went unrecognized by Leo and remained the puppet of Ricimer until he died a natural death in 465. For over a year there was no emperor of the West, an interregnum that exposed the irrelevance of the imperial throne. In 466, Leo sent a new emperor, one Anthemius, a son-in-law of the former emperor Marcian, to rule the West. Both the East and West were now able to cooperate against their common nemesis, Gaiseric, king of the Vandals. Gaiseric had given Eudocia, the daughter of Valentinian III captured in 455, in marriage to his second son Olybrius, and claimed the territory of Valentinian as her dowry. When Gaiseric failed to receive the dowry, he continued to raid the southern frontiers. Leo and Anthemius launched a joint naval invasion of Africa in 468, consisting of more than a thousand ships. After initial success, however, Gaiseric destroyed the Eastern fleet, and the expensive venture became a humiliating defeat for both halves of the old Roman Empire. Leo submitted to Gaiseric and sent Olybrius to Rome as the imperial nominee, but he also sent secret orders to have him executed. Ricimer ignored Leo’s request and recognized Olybrius as emperor. He then captured Anthemius in Rome and beheaded him. Shortly after, however, Ricimer died, and the new Augustus, Olybrius, soon followed him to the grave. At this point, in 472, the imperial Western seat of Rome was powerless and beset by Visigoths in Spain and lower Gaul (kingdom of Toulouse), Ostrogoths in the Balkans, and Vandals from the coast of North Africa. When Leo I died without a male heir in 474, he was succeeded by his grandson, also named Leo, born of his daughter Ariadne and Zeno of Isaurian stock. The infant died soon after, and rule passed to his regent father. Zeno (474–491) attempted to place a new emperor on the Western throne. The Roman commander Orestes rejected Zeno’s move and instead set up his own son, Romulus, as figurehead emperor. Romulus and Orestes ruled for 1 year. Then his Germanic troops quartered in Italy demanded lands for settlement according to the formula used in the provinces, in which two-thirds of an estate was given to troops, while one-third remained with the patrician landowner. Orestes refused: Italy was not, after all, a province. The troops promptly revolted under the leadership of Odoacer, a military commander of Germanic background, whose father had served with Atilla. On August 23, 476, Odoacer was proclaimed king by his army. Within a fortnight Odoacer captured and executed Orestes. Because Romulus was but an innocent lad, Odoacer exiled him into the care of relatives on an estate in the Bay of Naples. Romulus became known derisively as Romulus Augustulus (Little Augustus), the last Roman emperor. The coronation of Odoacer, the first barbarian king of the West, marks the traditional date of the end of the old Roman Empire. It is fittingly announced by the Goth historian Jordanes.

End of the Old Roman Empire and the Persecution of Persian Jews 589 Thus the Western Empire of the Roman race, which Octavianus Augustus, the first of the Augusti, began to govern in the seven hundred and ninth year from the founding of the city, perished with this Augustulus in the five hundred and twenty-second year from the beginning of the rule of his predecessors and those before them, and from this time onward kings of the Goths held Rome and Italy.1

In the East, Zeno had faced opposition to his assumption of the crown. Relatives of Leo’s widow, the empress Verina, drove Zeno from Constantinople for 2 years with the help of the Ostrogoth leader Theoderic Strabo. When Zeno regained the throne in 476, he sought the aid of another leader of a different group of Ostrogoths, called Theoderic the Amal. The two Theoderics, however, saw through Zeno’s ruse to divide and conquer them, so they joined forces in an attack on Constantinople. Zeno resisted them, thanks to the outer walls across Thrace, and for the rest of his reign he maintained an uneasy balance of power among the Ostrogoths, while he put down attempted rebellions by members of his Isaurian people in Asia Minor. Toward the end of his reign, Zeno persuaded Theoderic the Amal, who had emerged as the strongest leader of the Ostrogoths, to take back the West from Odoacer. Theoderic invaded Italy, and with the help of Visigoths, he defeated Odoacer in battle by 490 and laid siege to Ravenna, where Odoacer sought refuge. The bishop of Ravenna brokered an agreement for joint rule in 493. Theoderic entered Ravenna on the Ides of March to begin his administration and promptly murdered Odoacer with his own hands. No one seemed to mind.

24.1.2 Persian Empire Early in the fifth century, the Persian Empire was threatened from the northeastern steppes by the Hephthalites. As with Rome and its barbarians, the Sasanians waged wars, negotiated, and in the end, paid tribute to the Hephthalites and sought their help in the struggle for the throne. On the death of Yazdgird II in 457, the younger son Hurmazd (III) seized the throne, and the elder son, Peroz, raised an army of Hephthalites and reclaimed it. Foreigners had become king makers in both the Persian and the Roman empires. Peroz (459–484) realized, however, that if he were to rule as King of Kings, he had to rid himself of his Hephthalite allies. For a decade he engaged them in several battles, while the entire empire also suffered a severe drought and famine. After a military defeat around 469, Peroz found himself a prisoner of the Hephthalites. Because they did not want him, but rather his gold, Peroz arranged to leave his son Kavad as hostage until he could pay his own ransom. According to one source, the Roman Empire helped Peroz fund his ransom.2 Persia at this point was very weak, ripe for invasion, but Zeno was too occupied in the West. In fact, neither empire could govern the lands of the other, so they rarely found conquest enticing. Each empire needed the other as a stable buffer to the barbarian hoards that encroached east and west, or from the north against them both. Peroz soon faced a new rebellion in Armenia, led by Vardan Mamikonian, a nephew of Vardan the Red. The unrest spread north to Iberia (Georgia), where


Christians fought against Persian loyalists. The Persian forces were again victorious in Armenia, but only by negotiating a separate peace with the Iberian Christians. When Peroz withdrew to defend his eastern frontier against the Hephtalites, the Armenians again rose up in defiance. Peroz gave his brother Balash the task of settling the Armenian question. In 484, Peroz fell in battle. Balash (484–488) made peace with the Armenian Christians. Persian fire temples in Armenia were destroyed, new ones were banned, and Armenians were free to observe their Christianity. The Sasanian king would rule Armenia directly, in the hopes of avoiding the blood feuds among the princes. In response, the Armenian princes supported Balash against a usurper in Ctesipon, and thereby they confirmed the good relations. In the end, however, the Persian nobles deposed Balash and set up Kavad, the son of Peroz who had lived with the Hephtalites, as the new king in 488. Kavad I (488–531) continued the policy of toleration for the religious minorities of Persia.

24.2 Christians The Council of Chalcedon became the source of controversy that occupied the patriarchal sees and the emperors for more than a century. From the hindsight of history, it was the point of no return in the schisms of Christianity. The conflict may be summarized as follows. Nestorians believed that the essence of Christ expressed itself in two separate persons, one divine, one human. The Western Catholics, as concluded in the Council of Chalcedon, held the essence of Christ is one person, at once both divine and human, or God and man. The tendency coming out of Alexandria, based on Cyril’s theology, held Christ had but a single nature, or in Cyril’s phrase, “one incarnate nature (hypostasis) of the Word.”3 This Christology, usually called Monophysitism (mono physis = one nature, also called Miaphysitism), rejected the Chalcedon definition of Christ as one person in two natures, also known as Dyophysitism.4 The Nestorian “two persons” doctrine survived in the Persian East, while the “one person in one nature” doctrine of Monophysitism claimed many adherents in the East among Syrians, Egyptians, Armenians, and Abyssinians (Ethiopians) and took several forms between radical and moderate. The Chalcedonian “one person in two natures” had been, and remained, the position of the Catholic West. Eastern bishops who accepted Chalcedon were rejected by many of their parishioners, especially monks who thrived on controversy. On the death of the emperor Marcian in 457, the Monophysites of Alexandria seized the main church and elected their own patriarch, a monk named Timothy, who bore the nickname of Ailouros, the Weasel (or Cat), because of his small stature and cunning. In subsequent riots, the legitimate patriarch, Proterius, was killed. The old Roman Empire was also breaking up along the fissures in Christian theology. Both bishops and emperors had to declare a position of faith, and whichever they chose, they were bound to be reviled. In Egypt and Syria, Christians who remained faithful to Chalcedon, and therefore

End of the Old Roman Empire and the Persecution of Persian Jews 591

to the emperor, were called Melkites, “king’s men” from the Syriac malkaya, and these became the heretics of the Monophysite majority.

24.2.1 Christians in the Roman East When Zeno came to power in 474, he declared himself orthodox, but he sought a doctrinal solution and was prepared to offer the Monophysites a compromise he hoped they would accept. Patriarch Acacius of Constantinople presented Zeno a means of unification that was promulgated in 482 as the Henotikon, “Instrument of Union.”5 This declaration confirmed the Nicene-Constantinople Creed from the councils of Nicea (325) and Constantinople (381). Nestorius and Eutyches were condemned; the Twelve Anathemas of Cyril were accepted. It affirmed that Christ is consubstantial with the Father in his deity and consubstantial with humans in his manhood. Having become incarnate of the Holy Spirit and Mary, virgin and mother of God, he is one person, not two. The statement made no mention of Chalcedon or the Tome of Leo. It was a lukewarm formula that satisfied few in the East and none in the West, but under imperial pressure, new bishops in the great sees of Antioch and Alexandria (both of whom were Monophysites) joined with Acacius of Constantinople and accepted the Henotikon, so that some sort of peace was restored in the East. The bishops of Rome, Simplicius (468–483) and his successor Felix III (483–492), rejected it. The result was the Acacian schism that continued until the accession of Justin I in 518. To see the Christian clergy running off to one council after another in search of a creed and the bickering and anathemas when they came together was a source of merriment among the learned Hellenes, and undoubtedly the Jews as well. Evagrius Scholasticus addressed those who laughed. Christians were not, he said, in the business of deposing predecessors and devising additions to the faith but of attempting to “trace the unutterable and unsearchable scheme of God’s mercy to man.” No author of a heresy intended it to be such, or to dishonor God, but strove to improve on the faith of those who went before. Besides, all parties agree in a confession which embraces the essential points; for a Trinity is the single object of our worship, and unity the complex one of our glorification, and the Word, who is God begotten before the worlds, and became flesh by a second birth in mercy to the creature: and if new opinions have been broached on other points, these also have arisen from the freedom granted to our will by our Saviour God, even on these subjects, in order that the holy catholic and apostolic church might be the more exercised in bringing opposing opinions into captivity to truth and piety, and arrive, at length, at one smooth and straight path. Accordingly the apostle says most distinctly: For there must be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized.6

Despite the plea for essential Christian unity, the churches of the East and West had gone their separate ways. The golden age of patristic theologians had spent itself. Every reasonable solution to the nature of Jesus Christ conjured up by the finest minds had been put forward and rejected by some portion of Christendom.


Henceforth, with but a few torches glimmering, theologians lived in the twilight of the Dark Ages.

24.2.2 Barbarian Kingdoms The historical records of Britain also leave us essentially in the dark. The island was repeatedly invaded from the west by Irish, from the east by Angles, Saxons, Jutes, and other tribes, notably the Frisians, whose barbaric language will most influence English. From the north of Britain, the Picts harassed everyone to their south. What they had in common was a pagan culture that had little Christianity or Romanization to it. As a consequence, the church in Britain languished. Southern Gaul was ceded to the Arian Visigoths in 476 under the rule of King Euric (466–484), who marked the height of the kingdom of Toulouse. In northern Gaul, Childeric, king of the Salian Franks, was establishing his control, which he handed on to his son Clovis in 481. Clovis entered the service of Zeno, and in 486, he defeated the Gallo-Roman commander, Syagrius, at Soissons, extending his domain to the Loire River. By and large, the bishops of the various sees in Gaul and eastward were Catholic, under the oversight of Rome, while the barbarians were Arian or pagan. Bishops were leaders of their respective communities, charged with defending the empire against the barbarian incursions as well as keeping the faith Catholic. The bestknown bishop of this time was Apollinaris Sidonius, son of a Praetorian prefect in Gaul. He became prefect of Rome in 468 and bishop of Avernum (ClermontFerrand) in 470. Although briefly imprisoned by King Euric in 474, he was returned to his see, where he lived until 489. His writings, mostly poems and letters, reveal an appreciation for the Roman-Gallic culture, whether pagan or Christian, that was being threatened by the barbarians. Severinus, the apostle of Austria, was a monk in the East who came to the province of Noricum Ripense after Atilla passed through in 453. He labored among the people suffering from the barbarian invasions and earned the respect of Odoacer. Severinus founded two monasteries before he died around 482. His body was taken to Italy and buried at the monastery of Lucullanum. The abbot, Eugippius, honored Severinus with a biography. Salvian of Marseille, son of a nobleman from Trier or Cologne, led a wastrel’s life until he underwent a conversion and became a priest around 424. He later moved to Marseilles, where he wrote his most famous work, The Governance of God (De Gubernatione Dei), written between 439 and 451. Salvian makes the novel case that Rome was strong while it was pagan but deteriorated under Christianity, and it was now rightly being conquered by barbarians. But, he notes, this is all under the governance of God, because the life of Christians in the Roman Empire is a den of vices, corrupt to the core. Lastly, to say nothing of our other sins, who is there among laymen, except a very few, that does not constantly have the name of Christ on his lips to swear by it? Hence this is the oath most commonly used by nobles and baseborn men alike: “By Christ I do this

End of the Old Roman Empire and the Persecution of Persian Jews 593 . . . by Christ I act thus . . . by Christ I am not going to say anything else . . . by Christ I am not going to do anything else.” And what results? The abuse has been carried so far that, as we said before about heathen barbarians, Christ’s name seems now to be not a binding oath but a mere expletive.7

The state-mandated conversion to Christianity, he said, made converts of no one; it merely placed a baptismal robe on a pagan soul. Now, God is using the German barbarians to turn Romans back to true Christianity.

24.2.3 Christians in Persia Peroz, for good political reason, favored Nestorians over the Monophysites who remained in communion with the Byzantine Catholics. The predicament of Persian Christians remained one of political and religious loyalties. In the previous generations, Christians were persecuted because they were a minority and missionary religion that threatened the state religion. That Christian emperors pressured Persia to let Christians live in peace only made the Persian Christians more suspect to the shah and his council. But after Chalcedon, as Nestorians became outcasts of the Roman Empire, Persia perceived this new branch of Christianity likewise to be an asset to the Persian Empire, a means of weakening religious loyalty to the Roman mother church. The new political arena was not lost on the clergy of Roman Syria or Persia, and Barsauma, bishop of Nisibis, led the campaign to establish Nestorian Christianity as the church of Persia. In 457, the catholicos Dadisho was succeeded by Babowai (457–484), a member of the Persian nobility who converted to Christianity. Babowai did not favor Nestorianism and hoped to retain good relations with Antioch and Constantinople. Early in his catholicate, Babowai was imprisoned by Shah Peroz, possibly because of his apostasy from the Nestorian faith. Many Monophysite priests were also massacred at this time. After Peroz signed a peace treaty with Rome in 464, in which Christians were granted religious liberty, he realeased Babowai. In Edessa, Narsai continued to champion the Nestorian cause as head of the school of the Persians, but the tide had turned against Nestorian theology in Roman Syria, and Narsai was unable to deal with the growing hostilities. Under great pressure, he fled eastward in 471 to Nisibis, in Persia. Barsauma, the newly appointed bishop of Nisibis (ca. 459–496), invited Narsai to head the school in his city. Barsauma was a former student at the school of Edessa and remained an ardent supporter of the theology of Theodore of Mopsuestia. He organized the school of Nisibis, and the brilliant Narsai drew in the most gifted students. Narsai remained in Nisibis for the rest of his centenarian life. He wrote a series of commentaries on the Hebrew Scriptures (now lost), a number of homilies in poetic form, and hymns, the beauty of which earned him the epithet “Harp of the Spirit.” When Zeno closed the school of Edessa in 489, the remaining Nestorian professors, along with many students, moved to Nisibis, where they joined the new academy. Other schools followed, but the academy at Nisibis became the center of Persian Christianity, and from there missionaries spread out into central Asia and further east to China. At


its height, we are told, some 800 students attended. The regimen of the students may be discerned from the rules. Men studying at Nisibis lived in the monastery, several students to a room; celibacy was mandatory; they retained private property and cooked their own meals. Only the disabled and very poor were given living assistance. They could not take outside jobs during the school year, November to July, but with some supervision, they could work from August through October.8 In 484, Barsauma led the famous synod at Bet Laphat. He orchestrated the Nestorian bishops to condemn both Catholic and Monophysite doctrine as equally anathema and to praise Nestorius and his teacher Theodore of Mopsuestia, whom they honored with the title “The Interpreter.” The synod then proclaimed itself the church of Persia.9 They also condemned celibacy, a decision likely designed to appease the Zoroastrian clergy, who despised the entire monastic movement. In this way, the church of Persia also distinguished itself from Western Christendom. The bishops no doubt hoped to follow the Byzantine West and make their Christianity the state religion. They never achieved this goal, but their actions did facilitate the growth of Nestorian Christianity in Persia as a domestic or national religion, now free from its tainted association with Rome. The court of Shah Balash (484–488) favored Barsauma and sent him on embassies to Constantinople. The church of Persia became a refuge for the heretic Nestorians when they were expelled by Zeno. This pleased the Sasanian monarchs, and Nestorian Christianity continued to thrive. Around the time of the Bet Laphat synod, the catholicos Babowai sent a letter to Zeno, in which he complained of the “accursed kingdom” of Persia. The letter was intercepted and read to Peroz, who immediately had Babowai executed, hanging him by his fingers until he expired. Barsauma was suspected of involvement in the removal of Babowai. It is clear that Barsauma hoped to be named catholicos in order to firmly establish the Nestorian-leaning church of Persia, but upon the death of Peroz, soon after the synod of Bet Laphat, the new shah, Balash, passed over the controversial Barsauma and named Mar Akak (485–496), also a former student of Edessa, as catholicos. At first Barsauma refused to recognize Akak, and the bishops drew up sides, but when Akak convened a small synod of anti-Barsauma clergy in 485, which annulled the decisions of the synod of Bet Laphat, Barsauma relented, and the following year both sides made their peace at the synod of 486. In 486, Mar Akak convened a synod at Ctesiphon to deal with the lingering problems of celibacy. They decided to return to the New Testament model of married clergy in 1 Tim 3:1–5: namely, that clergy ought to be married, but if celibate, they must live in purity and in a monastery. This council also produced the first creed of the Persian church, or Church of the East. Further, let our faith in the dispensation of Christ be in the confession of the two natures, of the divinity and of the humanity, while none of us shall dare to introduce mixture, mingling or confusion into the differences of these two natures; rather, while the divinity remains preserved in what belongs to it, and humanity in what belongs to it, it is to a single Lordship and to a single [object of] worship that we gather together the exemplars of these two natures, because of the perfect and inseparable conjunction that has occurred for the divinity with respect to the humanity.

End of the Old Roman Empire and the Persecution of Persian Jews 595 And if someone considers, or teaches others, that suffering and change have attached to the divinity of our Lord, and [if] he does not preserve, with respect to the union of the prosopon of our Saviour, a confession of perfect God and perfect Man, let such a person be anathema.10

The final separation of Persian Christians from their brethren in the Byzantine Empire in effect supported a distinction between religion and politics, or making peace with God and the struggle for temporal power. Soon, Persian Christians and Jews would go to war against Byzantine Christians and Jews, believing, perhaps, that they would be reunited only in the world to come.

24.3 Jews 24.3.1 Jews in the West Life for the Jews of Palestine settled into a quiet and reasonably stable generation in the latter half of the fifth century. We have little internal information on how Jews reacted to the theological disputes that splintered Christians into opposing camps, but while the church raged, the Jews were left alone, so they may have hoped the christological dilemma would occupy the bishops forever. The Jewish communities had only to abide by the imperial edicts of 452 that forbade public discourse mocking the church and its mysteries. What Jews said about Christian theology in the privacy of their homes was another matter, one they kept to themselves. We may suppose that Jews with an opinion often sided with heretics, and favored any Christian theology that emphasized the humanity of Jesus, as their ancestors had done in supporting the Arians, but they had good reason to retain comfortable ties with the emperor, even as the faith of the emperors wavered between the Catholic and the Monophysite positions. Whereas Emperor Leo had favored the Catholic stance, Zeno showed sympathy for the Monophysites, who dominated Asia Minor. The greatest threat to Jewish communities came from the zealous monks. But even here, the political persecution of the Jews in Persia set the peaceful lives of the Byzantine Jews in stark relief. After the restrictions in 438, no laws concerning the Jews were issued for nearly two generations, and they were left to go about their business, which they did with unrivaled efficiency though a network spread over both empires. During the reign of Leo I, Jews and Christians inhabited the strategic island of Yotabe in the Gulf of Aqaba, which controlled the trade route from the sea. Amorcessus, a Persian war lord, captured the island, expelled the Roman officials, and interfered with the trade route.11 When Anastasius reoccupied the island in 498, he did not punish the Jewish community for its ready submission to the Persians but let them continue to facilitate the trading ships that supplied the empire with its luxury goods. The historian Procopius, a native of Caesarea, tells of one disturbance in Palestine during the reign of Zeno. A band of Samaritans attacked the church in Neapolitanus (Nablus) while the Christians celebrated Pentecost. The Samaritans


slaughtered many of the worshipers, and surrounding the bishop, Terebinthius, as he stood at the Eucharist table, they mocked the bread and wine and cut off his fingers. Thereafter, Terebinthus went to Constantinople, where he told the emperor all that had happened. The bishop called to mind the prophecy of Christ to the Samaritan woman, that one day the Samaritans would worship on that mountain in spirit and in truth, that is, worship Christ.12 Zeno, in his Isaurian fury, set about to remind everyone in Palestine how dear is the cost of sacrilege. He drove the Samaritans off Mount Gerizim, gave it to the Christians, and built a church dedicated to the mother of God.13 He placed a wall around the church, and a garrison of soldiers in Neapolitanus to keep the peace. The Samaritans bore this disgrace quietly for a while, but their animosity smoldered. According to John Malalas and the Chronicon Paschal, which places the incident in 484, the Samaritans revolted against the policies of Zeno. They chose a king called Justasas and met with initial successes because the governor had no army at his disposal. While the military commander mustered his forces from the coast, the Samaritans controlled Caesarea and burned down other churches. Their passion, however, was insufficient to achieve their goals, whatever they may have been. Justasas was captured and decapitated, and his head, with the diadem attached, was sent to Zeno. The emperor restored order, repaired the damaged churches, and prohibited Samaritans from entering into public service. As a result, many Samaritans fled to Persia, where they were welcomed by Kavad.14 Malalas also tells of a riot in Antioch between the circus factions, the Greens and the Blues, in which the Jews were caught up—possibly because they supported the Blues.15 The Greens were responsible for many riots and murders at that time in Antioch. They murdered Jews, it is said, sparing no one. The comes Orientalis at the time, Theodoros, was deposed, having aroused the emperor’s anger, after which the faction riots died down. The impious actions of the Greens against the Jews were reported to the emperor Zeno. He became angry with the Greens in Antioch, asking, “Why did they burn only the corpses of the Jews? They ought to have burned live Jews too.” This silenced the affair.16

These anecdotes tell us little of the overall relations between Jews and Christians, except that Jews remained active in local politics and occasionally suffered unjustly. The quip of Zeno speaks for itself. We also know little of the Jewish communities in the West at this time, except that they were to be found everywhere. On the island of Crete, however, we learn of a Jew who called himself Moses. He appeared between 450 and 470 and traveled the island for a year, proclaiming himself the Messiah. He would lead the Jews back to the Holy Land, he said. Anticipation rose high, and on the appointed day of deliverance Moses led a group of Jews to a cliff that jutted into the sea. Moses predicted the waters would part for him and he commanded his followers to fling themselves into the sea. Many did, and were killed upon the rocks or drowned. Some fishermen below came to save those they could, and awakened the remaining people above to the peril. When the Jews realized they had been duped, they sought out their messiah to put him to death, but he had already slipped away, and was never found.

End of the Old Roman Empire and the Persecution of Persian Jews 597

Many Jews drew the logical conclusion that this pseudo-messiah was a demon sent to test them. Others, we are told, converted to Christianity.17

24.3.2 Jews in Persia The school of Pumbedita was led by Rav Sama bar Rava (ca. 449–476) and Rav Yose, who probably lived to the end of the century. Leadership of the school at Sura was disputed after the death of Rav Nahman bar Rav Huna in 455. Ashi’s son, Tabyomi, more formally known as Mar bar Rav Ashi, had made a scholar’s reputation in his younger years, even while his father dominated the rabbinical schools, but he had been passed over to lead the school upon his father’s death. When the position became open again, according to the tradition, Mar b. Rav Ashi heard a wandering lunatic declare that the man who is to be elected head of the school in Sura (Mata Mehasia) signs his name Tabyomi. He took this to be a prophecy and went to the school. There he learned that the sages had decided to appoint Aha of Difti. When the sages heard that Mar b. Rav Ashi had come, they sent two rabbis to consult with him. Mar b. Rav Ashi detained them, and the sages sent two more. He detained them, and others were sent, until he had a minyan (quorum of ten). Then he convened a formal assembly and began to expound oral Law and Torah to them, thereby assuming the leadership, which Aha of Difti later conceded. The story is not without redactional difficulties, but it is likely that Mar b. Rav Ashi had the support of the exilarch, Mar Zutra, who reserved the right to appoint the heads of schools, and Aha of Difti accepted the position of court sage in recompense.18 Mar b. Rav Ashi led the school for 13 years, until his death in 468. During this time he continued the compilation and editing of the Babylonia Talmud. He was followed by Rabba Tosfa’a (468–476) and Ravina II (476–500), a nephew of Ravina I.19 The year 455 marks the start of a dark period for the Jews of Persia. For reasons not made explicit, though one suspects religious and political pressure, Yazdgird II and Peroz after him inflicted the most severe era of persecution that Babylonian Jews had ever endured. The very practice of Judaism was restricted and at times banned. According to the tradition preserved in Seder Tannaim ve ’Amoraim, in 455 Yazdgird abolished the sabbath, while another source claims Yazdgird forbade recitation of the Shema, although it is difficult to know how this could have been enforced, except in public worship.20 No reason is given, but if it occurred, it was probably under pressure from the Mobads, special Mazdean clergy. Jewish leaders rejected the ban, and persecutions followed. It was perhaps under this initial persecution that the Shema (Hear, O Israel . . .) was surreptitiously inserted into the Kedushah prayer, so that it contained the passage: “What great joy is ours that twice each day, morning and evening, we are privileged to declare, Hear O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is One. Praised be His glorious sovereignty for ever and ever.”21 After 2 years of persecution, Shah Yazdgird II died. A single enigmatic statement in the Letter of Sherira Gaon tells us that Rav Sama and Mar bar Rav Ashi sought mercy from God so that a dragon (snake) swallowed Yazdgird, the king, in his bedroom, and the persecution was annulled.22 The imagery, as is often the


case, is presently inexplicable, but from the Jewish point of view, the prayers of the righteous avail much. It is also conceivable that some sort of intervention by the two rabbis induced the king to cease his persecution before he died. The new shah, Peroz, resumed persecution in 467 and destroyed rabbinic schools. Around 470, Huna b. Mar Zutra the exilarch was killed, and other Jewish leaders were imprisoned or killed. Synagogues were closed, and Jewish children were seized by the magi for slavery or proper Persian education. The onslaught against Jews and Judaism was apparently designed to remove their distinction and bring them into conformity with the dominant Persian culture. Jews were again forbidden to proclaim the unity of God or hold the sanctity of the seventh day. It was similar to the Hadrian persecution and that of the Maccabean revolt. It is doubtful, however, that persecution so specifically directed at religious practice can be laid at the door of the Mazdean clergy or explained by economic conditions or political pressures. The entire century was a difficult one for the Sasanians, but the Jews had long lived in peace among their neighbors as a recognized religious minority. A possible catalyst may have been a widespread anticipation, based on a more ancient prediction, that the Messiah would come in 468, 400 years after the destruction of the temple, which the rabbis dated to 68 c.e. Said R. Hanina [early 3d century]: From the year 400 after the destruction onwards [= 468], if one says unto you, “Buy a field that is worth a thousand denarii for one denar”—do not buy it [since the Messiah will soon come and lead all Jews back to Palestine]. In a Baraitha it is taught: From the year 4231 of the Creation of the World onward [= 471], if one says unto you. “Buy thee a field that is worth a thousand denarii for one denar,” do not buy it.23

Although the details are sparse, the anticipation among Jews, which likely spread to the Christians, led to precautionary and even oppressive measures by the Sasanian government. If Yazdgird abolished the sabbath practice in 455, it may have been in response to growing messianic speculation. If so, the action was counterproductive, because such persecution could only be seen as the tribulation that must precede the Messiah and inflamed some Jews to more zealous actions. The single reference to Peroz in the Talmud describes him as a wicked king.24 According to the “Annals” (961) of the Arab historian, Hamza Isfahani, in the eleventh year of Peroz (468), a few zealous Jews of the city of Isfahan flayed two magi alive. The Sasanian response was to slaughter half the Jews of the town and send the children to the local fire temple.25 Reported actions of this kind are both incredible yet credible. On the one hand, sanity forbids a whole community from such suicidal actions. On the other hand, if some thought the end times were imminent, the report, even without a second witness, must be judged possible. Just as thousands of Jews thought the messiah was coming and met their deaths during the reign of Julian the Apostate, once again passions ran high, and no matter how the leaders may have attempted to control them, they could not. The report conforms to similar actions of Christians burning down fire temples and offers a brief glimpse of Jewish religious zeal and the consequent persecutions.

Chapter 25

Religious Tolerance in the West and the Expansion of Christians and Jews in the East (491–526 c.e.)

25.1 Rome and Persia 25.1.1 Old Roman Empire The old Roman Empire is now divided between the Western barbarian kingdoms and the Eastern Byzantine Empire centered at Constantinople. The Western kingdoms, nascent Europe, are somewhat unified by the lingua franca of Latin and mildly divided between Arian and Catholic Christian theology, interspersed by pagans. The Byzantine Empire, however, besides its theological controversy, is split by ethnic and language barriers as well. The sphere of Constantinople, from Greece and Thrace to Antioch, Palestine, and Egypt, used the lingua franca of Greek, though Coptic is on the rise in Egypt. Further east, the old Roman East Syria and Armenia have become separated in language and culture, and this distinction will only be increased by a growing theological alienation. The Aramaic dialect of Syriac is the dominant language of East Syria, and Armenian of Armenia. Arabia, with a growing population of Jews and Christians, also looms upon the southern frontier between the Byzantine and Persian empires, until it rises up under the banner of Islam. 25.1.1.1 Byzantine Rule Zeno died without an heir. The empress Ariadne chose a successor in the elderly and minor court official Anastasius (491–518), whom she married. The church, however, suspected his theological views, and the patriarch refused to acknowledge their sovereign until he swore in writing he would make no changes to the Chalcedonian creeds.26 Political opposition to Anastasius came from the Isaurian princes who were now out of power. For 7 years the Isaurians raided the heartland of Asia Minor until Anastasius was able to defeat them in their mountain retreats and relocated many of them to Thrace. On the Thracian front, a new threat came in periodic raids by the emerging Bulgars, another of the tribes of Turkish origins in Central Asia who probably accompanied the Huns westward. Anastasius strengthened the barrier


known as the Long Wall about 40 miles west of Constantinople that stretched from the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmora. According to one historian, the wall rendered Constantinople more an island than a peninsula.27 When Theoderic extended his control over the Balkans, Anastasius did not resist because the Ostrogothic king recognized Anastasius as the emperor. Indeed, through diplomatic exchanges, Anastasius secured the loyalty of the Burgundians and the Franks of Gaul, which sustained the fiction of empire and facilitated economic and political stability. Not so among the competing theologies. Zeno’s formula of the Henotikon had failed to achieve doctrinal unity between the Monophysites, who formed the strong majority in Syria and Egypt, and the Catholics, who clung to the creed of Chalcedon. Theological tension flared up briefly in 512, when Anastasius supported the Monophysites by ordering that the Trisagion chant, “Holy God, Holy and strong, Holy and immortal, have mercy upon us,” include the words “who was crucified for us,” which to the Chalcedonians implied the Trinity was crucified, while to the Monophysites, it applied only to Christ. A great consternation arose in Constantinople, and a riot nearly deposed the emperor.28 The controversy gave ready excuse to anyone inclined to rebellion. Such a one came in Vitalian, commander of the Gothic federates. He gathered an army of Huns, Bulgars, and perhaps Slavs, and advanced on the capital by land and sea in order to defend the church Catholic. After a long struggle, Anastasius prevailed, thanks in large part to the first recorded use of a combustible sulfur and petroleum concoction known as Greek fire.29 Throwing flaming pitch by catapult had been used for centuries, but this substance was apparently combustible on impact and spread only when water was thrown on it. The composition became a Byzantine state secret. Anastasius gained the approval of the masses by rescinding a tax burden known as the chrysargyron, levied on all occupations, including beggars and prostitutes, and sometimes even on tools and livestock. The emperor celebrated the abolition of this tax by an official burning of all records, and the gratitude of the population would have required, said Evagrius, the “eloquence of Thucydides” or better to express. The church was particularly grateful, for it had been ill at ease in a revenue system that had essentially condoned the world’s oldest profession. A new tax system was implemented based on land holdings, and by the end of his reign, Anastasius had accumulated a substantial reserve of gold. The main foreign controversy during the reign of Anastasius came in relations with Persia, which now involved a significant Christian population, not simply the negotiating of trade routes and revenues. Jovian had concluded a treaty in which the strategic city of Nisibis had been given to Persia for 120 years, after which it was to revert to Roman control. Leaders who agree to a 120-year treaty are, of course, passing off a controversy to their unsuspecting heirs. When the time came, the Persians were unwilling to restore Nisibis to Rome. The citizens of Nisibis stopped tribute to Persia, and war broke out as the Sassanian king, Kavad I, assumed control of Armenia and northern Mesopotamia. Anastasius was able to reclaim parts of Mesopotamia, including the main city of Amida. He later fortified the town of Dara, which he renamed Anastasioupolis, as a reminder of Roman presence. Neither side was strong enough to invade the other, and a 7-year truce was arranged and later

Religious Tolerance and the Expansion of Christians and Jews 601

renewed. Anastasius died at the ripe old age of 90, to be replaced by Justin, the commander of the palace guard and a relative youngster at 66 years old. Justin I (518–527) is said to have been illiterate, proficient only in Latin, and of humble origins in Illyricum. His strongest trait, orthodox theology, gained him the support of the patriarchate and the monks. Supporters of Anastasius challenged his position, but the challengers were assassinated, thus securing the throne for the church. The senate and the army soon followed. Justin then adopted a nephew, Plavius Petrus Sabbatius, renamed Justinianus. The emperor rapidly promoted the heir apparent, and shortly before his death Justin named Justinian co-Augustus. 25.1.1.2 Barbarian Kingdoms Theoderic the Great (ca. 455–526, also spelled Theodoric), had been king of the Ostrogoths since 471, the de facto king of Italy from 493, and so recognized de jure by Emperor Anastasius in 497. The Roman historian Cassiodorus, who also served in Theoderic’s administration, praised the king for his forward vision and was among the first Latin writers to apply the term modernus repeatedly in the political vocabulary describing Theoderic’s reign.30 The forward vision of Theoderic, however, meant reviving the past glory of the Roman Empire. He commissioned Cassiodorus to write a history of the Goths, in which the author assimilated Gothic origins into Roman history and invented a distinguished Roman heritage for the king. Perhaps Theoderic’s most impressive feat of his 33-year rule was the coexistence of Arian Goths and Catholic Latins within his capital city of Ravenna. He and his Ostrogothic people were staunch Arians, devout heirs of Ulfila, but he ruled a Catholic land and is credited with one of the more stable reigns in late antiquity. He gave up the sartorial splendor of Gothic furs and adopted the Roman purple and Byzantine pomp. He published his own edict, a collection of ancient Roman laws relevant to his kingdom, in a simple language that applied to Goths and Romans alike, each under their respective judges. He repeatedly called on his Gothic soldiers to seek the civilized life, a plea that was not entirely successful in controlling their disdain for the native Romans or in uniting two distinct ethnic cultures. He appointed no Goths to high public office and even forbade marriage between the two peoples. The Catholic Christians, from the bishops down, were generally satisfied with Theoderic’s rule. His benevolence also extended to the Jews in his kingdom. While the edict required Goths and Romans to abide by a single law, it also allowed the Jews to live by their own customs.31 In a letter to the Jews of Genoa, permitting them to rebuild their synagogue, he penned his famous dictum: “We cannot command adherence to a religion, since no one is forced to believe unwillingly.”32 Theoderic retained a Jewish lawyer called Symmachus in his higher administration, which ignored the imperial law issued by Theodosius excluding Jews from high imperial service.33 The most significant disruption between Jews and Christians occurred at the capital city of Ravenna around 519. The Jews of Ravenna were offended, either at Christian attempts to baptize them or during the baptism of others while chanting psalms, and they threw holy water, or something connected to the


Eucharist, into the river. The cause is no longer clear, but a riot ensued, and against the protestations of the bishop, Peter, or the laws of the king, Christians burned the synagogues. The Jews, with the help of a “heretic” lawyer, brought charges before the king. Theoderic ordered the entire Roman populace of Ravenna to contribute toward the reconstruction of the synagogues, and anyone who lacked funds was to be paraded around the city naked as punishment.34 When the rioting spread to Rome and more synagogues were burned, Theoderic ordered those responsible to be punished. He also took measures to protect the synagogues of Milan. Although Jewish sources retain no trace of all these events, it is clear that they favored the rule of Theoderic and the Goths, for in the next generation we find them fighting of the side on the Goths in Naples against the Byzantine forces of Justinian. Many Western kingdoms in Europe shared Theoderic’s desire to emulate Roman antiquity as the platform of their own legitimacy; for after so many centuries, the so-called barbarians had known no viable government than that of the Roman Empire. Therefore, Theoderic entered into a network of marriage alliances with the barbarian kings. He himself married Aduefleda, the sister of Clovis, king of the Salian Franks. He then gave one of his daughters, from his first wife or concubine, to the Visigoth king, Alaric, and a second daughter to Sigismund, a son of the Burgundian king Gundobad.35 Clovis (481–511) succeeded his father Childeric I as king of the Franks. The Salian Franks had been one of the more stable groups of barbarians in Gaul, dwelling in what is roughly modern Belgium. Over the course of his reign, he expanded his domain to the entire province of Belgica Secunda and included the Alemanni in 496, the Burdgundians by 500, and the Visigoths in 507. Clovis received recognition from Constantinople when Anastasius made him consul. Like all Germanic kings, Clovis negotiated with the Christian clergy, though he, like his father, remained a pagan. His wife, Clotilda, however, had accepted Christianity, and she pressed her faith upon Clovis until around 496 Clovis abandoned his ancestral religion and embraced the Catholic faith. The battles for the expansion of his kingdom thereafter were fought in the name of the Christian God, and if we accept the judgment of the historian Gregory of Tours, even the conquest of the Arian Visigoths in 507 was a war against Christian heresy. Gregory, who wrote 50 years later for the benefit of the Merovingian dynasty, hailed Clovis the “new Constantine.”36 As with most Christian historians, Gregory’s description of the fervor of the king’s faith has been questioned. Clovis may have embraced Arianism prior to the orthodox creed, and he may not have been baptized until 508, 3 years before his death. But when he came to die, he died a Catholic, and his burial was in the Church of the Holy Apostles that he had built in Paris. Much of his kingdom, however, remained Arian and pagan.

25.1.2 Persian Empire Kavad I (488–496 and 498–531) gave Persia a long reign, interrupted but briefly by the Zoroastrian magi who placed his brother Zamasp on the throne. The conflict


seems to have been over a new doctrine of Zoroastrianism called Mazdakism. The religion that arose from its founder Mazdak ( fl. 480–520) is known only from its severe critics and later historians. As a religion, it seems to have sprung from the archheresy of Manichaeism, yet it ascribed to the rites of Zoroastrianism. It was dualistic, gnostic, and followed a primitive communalism, based on the notion that God had given every person an equal share of the earth’s blessings and it is only from greed that some have more than others. Mazdak attributed all evil to the five demons of Envy, Wrath, Vengeance, Need, and Greed. True religion required the sharing of wealth and women. The noble goal must have been that wealthy men should not hoard women in huge harems, but that every man should have a wife. But opponents charged Mazdakites of sharing wives and rampant promiscuity, a charge also found in the rabbinic tradition. The sources do not permit a proper evaluation of charges or the practitioners. The noblest goal and the basest practice attributed to the Mazdakites are alike possible. Kavad himself supported the Mazdakites and may have done so out of some conviction to its ideals and the plight of the poor in his kingdom. Mazdak, however, was accused of faking miracles to dupe the king, including the classic motif of a hidden man in a fire temple so the king was convinced the fire spoke to him. Kavad may also have found the Mazdakites a convenient social force by which to oppose the aristocracy. The nobles, for their part, sided with the traditional Zoroastrian magi. They forced Kavad out of office in 496 and set his brother Zamasp on the throne. Kavad fled to the Hephthalites, where he gained support and an army, and he returned in 498 to confront his opponents. Zamasp abdicated without a struggle. Kavad rid himself of the leading nobility that conspired against him and reigned for another 30 years. The Mazdakites flourished under his rule, but they were held in check by the magi and the nobles. In the final years of Kavad, the Mazdakites opposed the nomination of his younger son, Khusrau, to be Kavad’s successor, and the king turned against them. As a result, Mazdak was executed in 528, many followers were massacred, and persecution of the Mazdakites began under Khusrau. Kavad had agreed to pay the Hephthalite king a regular tribute for his help in securing the throne. At the same time, the Romans had defaulted on their agreed payment to support the defense of the Caucasus in the north, money which Kavad needed for his own payments. Kavad requested that Anastasius resume the payments according to their treaty, but Rome was momentarily content to see Persia weakened on its eastern frontier. Kavad therefore began regular raids to loot the cities of northern Mesopotamia and Roman Armenia. In 502, he took Theodosiopolis and Amida and took his plunder to Nisibis before Anastasius could send relief. The following year the Byzantine army won the upper hand while Kavad engaged the Hephthalites, and eventually the two empires renewed their peace treaty. Toward the end of his reign, Kavad grew concerned for the succession of his son, and it is said that he requested the new Byzantine emperor, Justin, to adopt his son and ensure a peaceful succession. (It is recalled that his ancestor, Yazdgird I, had accepted the request of Arcadius to support his son Theodosius II.) Justin, however, refused, and Roman-Persian relations again deteriorated, leading to a series of border skirmishes.


25.2 Christians 25.2.1 Roman “Papacy” The office of pope, as understood in the modern Catholic Church, was still in the making. The honorific term “father” (Latin papa; Greek pappas) had long been given to any bishop in the West so esteemed by his followers. As the bishop of Rome achieved primacy, it achieved the title of a paramount papa, or pope. The title of pope was restricted to the bishop of Rome in the eleventh century, by Gregory VII; therefore, it remains somewhat anachronistic at this point in history. Nevertheless, at this point in history the primacy of the bishop of Rome gained sufficient recognition that we may begin to use the title of pope by way of distinguishing the bishop of Rome from the other patriarchs. In 492, Gelasius, a Roman deacon, ascended to the papal throne. He assumed the mantle of Felix III and forcefully argued the supremacy of the Roman see against Constantinople. Fortunately, he had the support of Theoderic, who saw no reason to let the church of Constantinople preside over the church of his kingdom. With the royal backing, he withstood various attempts at reconciliation, to the point that the Greek churches in communion with Rome thought him proud and arrogant. At stake was the unity of the church of the Roman Empire. Gelasius wrote to Anastasius, clarifying the relationship between the church and the state. Two there are, august Emperor, by which this world is ruled: the consecrated authority of priests and the royal power. Of these the priests have the greater responsibility, in that they will have to give account before God’s judgment seat for those who have been kings of men.37

The world is governed by two authorities: kings and bishops. In all things pertaining to the church, the emperor submits for the salvation of his soul. Likewise, bishops submit to the throne, recognizing that kingship is ordained of God. The office of bishop, and now at the imperial level, the pope, was well entrenched in the political ideology of Jewish thought, seen best in Josephus and his theocracy, in which the high priest governs the most important matters of the religious cult and the king takes care of the mundane matters of political rule.38 Gelasius also wrote a treatise on the Two Natures in Christ, in which he clarified the problems of language, from the interchangeableness of prepositions, “from” and “in,” to the inseparableness of certain nouns, such as “nature” and “substance.”39 The letters of Gelasius include numerous responses to the problems posed by Arianism, Pelagianism, and Manichaeism, which testify to the enduring presence of these theologies, despite their official label of heresy. Ariansim dominated North Africa, and Pelagianism still thrived in north Italy and the Balkans. We also learn from his letters that he allowed Jews greater justice than heretics. One case was brought before him by a Jew named Judas, who claimed that a slave he purchased many years ago had now escaped and taken refuge in a church. The slave now contended he had been a Christian from birth, but that he was forcibly circumcised. Clearly the Jewish slave, if so he was, had reason to lie in order to


escape his slavery. Gelasius commissioned the bishops in the area to investigate the matter thoroughly and provide justice so that religion should be preserved but also a slave should not avoid his rightful ownership by lies. In another letter, Gelasius requests the bishop Quinigesius to protect the Jew Telesinus, who tries so hard to remain in the favor of the church. Gelasius says that though he is a Jew, he should be regarded as a Christian.40 Gelasius was followed by Pope Anastasius II (496–498). Despite sustained efforts to reach an agreement on the Henotikon, the theological impasse remained and produced a minor schism in Rome upon the death of Pope Anastasius in 498. Rival groups, those wishing to accept it and those against, elected their own bishops, Symmachus and Laurentius respectively. King Theoderic, an Arian Goth who did not have a dog in this fight, told the clergy to work it out. After heavy borrowing of gold for bribes, forged documents, riots, and bloodshed, the clergy found reconciliation beyond their grasp. In the end, Theoderic recognized Symmachus, and Rome remained out of communion with the East until the pope’s death in 514. Thereupon, the deacon Hormisdas, apparently of Persian origin, became pope. Pope Hormisdas (514–523) attempted twice to reconcile Rome with the East, but a solution eluded him until the new emperor Justin reigned. He put forward his Formula Hormisdae as a condition for communion with Rome, “where the catholic religion always remains intact.” The formula removed a host of heretics from the diptychs, from Nestorius to Acacius, and embraced the Chalcedonian Definition and Leo’s Tome. In addition, the formula affirmed the preeminence of the Roman see on the basis of the “keys of the kingdom” in Matt 16:19. Hormisdas obtained consent from Constantinople in the signature of Patriarch John and the blessing of Emperor Justin, shortly to be followed by some 250 bishops from the East. John I (523–536) succeeded Hormisdas. In 525, at the new pope’s request, a Scythian monk by the name of Dionysius Exiguus (Dennis the Small) developed a new calendar. His task was to prepare a continuation of the Paschal cycle from that of Cyril of Alexandria, but he thought it unseemly to begin the count from the reign of Diocletian, in 284, and began rather from the incarnation of the Lord. He dated, erroneously, as it turned out, the birth of Jesus according the Roman system of the founding of Rome, anno urbis conditae (“in the year of the founding of the city”) as December 25, a.u.c. 753.41 The new calendar, anno Domini (a.d.), “the year of our Lord,” was not widely used for the next two centuries, and apparently was first adopted for historical reckoning by the Venerable Bede (ca. 673–735).

25.2.2 Roman Gaul Both popes, Symmachus and Hormisdas, got on well with King Theoderic and were able to facilitate low-level communion with the Arian Goths. After the city of Arles in southern Gaul came into the domain of Theoderic, papal support of Caesarius (ca. 470–542), bishop of Arles, led to its becoming the primatial see of Gaul, and Caesarius the archbishop of Arles. The 40-year tenure (507–547) of Caesarius left his imprint on the transformation of Gaul from Arian to Catholic,


and by the force of his personality, he kept the churches united through a succession of kingdoms, Visigoths, Ostrogoths, and Franks. Caesarius labored long to create a Christian community out of the inhabitants of Gaul. This meant dealing with a variety of customs and the peripheral outsiders: pagans, Jews, and the heretics who were mainly Arian Gothic soldiers and officials. He rarely preached against Arianism, the official religion of the Visigoths, which did not threaten his flock. He found it expedient to allow pagan customs when no suitable Christian alternative was available. But the Jews posed a serious threat to his Christians. Caesarius no doubt followed the traditional practice of permitting Jews to attend the mass during the readings and the sermon, but they were to depart with the catechumens prior to the Eucharist. Whether or not Jews attended, the bishop knew that his parishioners talked about his sermons with their Jewish neighbors. In one sermon on the superiority of the church to the synagogue, he told them: “If, as we trust, you wish to remember all this, you will be able to explain clearly the mystery of the Christian religion whenever the situation or opportunity presents itself, not only to Jews, but also to pagans.”42 He also warned Christians to not steal from Jews, lest they be turned away from the gospel. Much of his preaching on the Jews aimed to distinguish Christianity from Judaism, a subtle difference not appreciated by many pagan converts. Therefore he emphasized work on the sabbath as on any week day, and during Lent, he required Christians to fast on the sabbath. However, he seemed to undermine his efforts by expressing in sermons his high esteem for Jewish piety, in charity, and the punctilious way in which they kept their sabbath rest.43 Caesarius had every reason to praise the Jews while he tried to guard his Christians from their influence. The Jews were part of the civil community, vouchsafed by the Breviary of Alaric (2.1.20). Jews served in the citizen army during the siege of Arles in 507–508. In the long run, Caesarius lived what he preached. He remained strong in his faith and loved his neighbor as himself. When he died, his biographers Messanius and Stephanus tell us, everyone, Christians and Jews alike, mourned his passing.44

25.2.3 Christians of the East By the start of the sixth century, Christian churches were still largely confined to the valleys of the Tigris and Euphrates (modern Iraq), hence in the western end of the Persian Empire. The seven metropolitans (archbishops) headed the bishops of their respective provinces, and the Metropolitan of Merv (near the modern town of Mary, Turkmenistan), with oversight for the province of Khurasan, represented the furthest significant eastern expansion of the church.45 But Christians were to be found in smaller enclaves throughout Persia, eastward into central Asia, and probably, as the result of the missionary journeys of Thomas of Jerusalem in the fourth century, already as far as southwest India. Persian Christian missionaries had penetrated beyond the Oxus River among the Hephtalites.46 When Kavad fled to the Hephtalies in 496, he was accompanied by the bishop of Arran and several presbyters who were already going on a mission to that region.47 There were also many Christians in Arabia, whose presence will emerge in this century.


25.2.3.1 Christians of Persia Our sources say little of the Church of the East (Persian church) under the rule of Kavad (488–531) and the brief interlude of Zamasp (496–498). The generation was apparently peaceful, but the very old Barsauma remained a thorn in the side of catholicos Akak, and they vied for the authority of the catholicos and the see of Seleucia-Ctsesiphon until each man anathematized the other and thereby weakened the church. Barsuama died around 496 and Akak soon after in 497, during the interim reign of Zamasp. The king was eager to see his Christian subjects reunited and ordered a council of bishops with the view of settling their disputes.48 A Persian named Babai succeeded Akak as catholicos (497–502). The basis of his elevation is unclear, for he is said to have been a man of little intellectual refinement, but he must have been politically astute.49 He was also the husband of one wife, a quality much desired by Zoroastrians for any religious leader. The synod of Mar Babai reversed the anathemas of Barsauma and Akak, determined to hold a synod every 4 years to which every bishop or his proxy must attend, and confirmed the position on married clergy made at the Synod of 486. This council also reaffirmed the primacy of the bishop of Seleucia-Ctesiphon as catholicos (patriarch) over all bishops in Persia. Signatories to the synod were Mar Babai, seven metropolitans, and thirty-one bishops.50 Babai died around 503, to be succeeded by Shila, also a married Persian, who had served as archdeacon under Babai. Although he is accused of excessive avarice, he guided the Church of the East with a firm hand through the difficult times of the Mazdakite upheaval in Persia. He may have taken part in a debate in the Arab city of Hira with Monophysites who fled the Byzantine Empire under Justin I.51 When Shila died in 523, he had named his own son, Elisha, as successor. Many bishops opposed the nomination and put forward a certain Narse, an able intellectual from Khuzistan. The internal dispute was a luxury afforded by the general peace in Persia. Both groups of bishops elevated their champion as catholicos. Each catholicos installed new bishops, often in the same see, and the church was split into warring factions that would struggle for the next 15 years. 25.2.3.2 Emerging Syrian Orthodox Church Justin’s reconciliation of the Acacian schism in 519 and renewal of communion with Rome did little to placate the Monophysite monks of Egypt and Syria. As early as 521 Justin decided to crush the Monophysite hold on Egypt and Syria. Bishops were expelled and replaced with Chalcedonian “Melkite” bishops, though older ones were allowed to die before being replaced. Monks were likewise driven from the monasteries. Throughout northeast Syria, monks were required to sign a statement (libellus) of agreement with Chalcedon or be driven into the desert. By the end of his reign, 55 bishops had been removed. Nearly all the monasteries were weakened by their loss of monks, and small monasteries disappeared. The Monophysite movement now took on its own identity in Roman Syria, led by a poet, Jacob of Sarug (Serugh), and two bishops, Philoxenus of Mabbug and Severus of Antioch.52


Jacob of Sarug (d. 521) was a gifted and prolific poet who carried on the tradition of Aphrahat, Ephrem the Syrian, and Narsai by providing Syriac Christians with devotional and theological poems to uplift their souls in times of trouble. Born in Curtam (modern Qurtman, Syria) near the Euphrates, Jacob studied at Edessa, and his poetic skills were soon recognized by his teachers. At age twenty, he extemporized an ode on the chariot of Ezekiel in the presence of five bishops. They ordained him a presbyter and commissioned him to minister to the people of the Euphrates. During his life, he traveled the lands of inner Syria, visiting the monasteries, feeding all who would listen through his poetry and wisdom. He was beloved by thousands and given the epithet “Flute of the Holy Spirit.” Jacob composed many memre (couplet poems) in dodecasyllabic (12-syllable) meter. Toward the end of his life, in 519, Jacob was ordained bishop of Batnan-Sarug, in the province of Osrhoene (territory around Edessa, modern Urfa, Turkey). He died 2 years later, but his legacy was preserved by an army of scribes who collected and copied his many works. Philoxenus (ca. 440–523) was born at Tahl in Bet Garmai (Iraq). His parents named him Akhsnoyo (“Stranger” in Syriac), which he later changed to the Greek name Philoxenus, “Lover of Strangers.” As a youth he entered the monastery at Tur ‘Abdin. He later studied at Edessa, and then at the monastery of Talada, near Antioch. In 485, he was ordained bishop of Mabbug (Hieropolis, modern Al-Manbej in northern Syria, not to be confused with Hierapolis in Phrygia, west central Asia Minor). He opposed the Nestorians and Chalcedonians with equal fervor and was condemned by both. (Leontius of Byzantium called him “the unbaptized runaway slave.”) In 518, during the grand purge of Monophysite bishops, Justin exiled Philoxenus to Thrace, and later to the infamous island of Gangara in the Black Sea. In 523, the door of his house was sealed, and fires were lit at the windows. He died from smoke suffocation and is listed a martyr for his faith.53 Among his literary legacy are many homilies and the new Syriac version of the New Testament, which he commissioned, known as the Philoxenian version. Severus of Antioch (ca. 456–538) studied rhetoric in Greek and Latin at Alexandria, law and philosophy at Beirut, and later became a monk, first at the monastery of Saint Romanus in Palestine, and then in a monastery he founded. During the reign of Anastasius, he intervened with the emperor on behalf of the persecuted Monophysites. In 512, Severus, with the help of Philoxenus, was ordained patriarch of Antioch, but upon the accession of Justin, he was deposed and fled to Alexandria, where he found refuge with Patriarch Timothy III. For the rest of his life Severus established himself as the principal theologian of the emerging Syrian Orthodox Church, for whom the theology of Cyril of Alexandria was binding.54

25.3 Jews 25.3.1 Jews in Palestine and the West The Jews of Palestine and the West continued to live in peace. No edicts were issued to restrict them. Rare testimony comes from the synagogue of Beth Alpha,


a town in the western Jezreel valley of Galilee, which bore an Aramaic inscription dated to the reign of King Justinus (Justin, 518–527).55 The prosperous synagogue gives testimony to a Jewish community that had no qualms against honoring Justin as their king. A Greek inscription reads, “May the craftsmen who carried out this work, Marianos and his son Hanina, be held in remembrance.” Because of the errors in the Aramaic inscription, it is assumed that the craftsmen did not know the language well, though they were Jewish. In the West, the few references to Jews that we have show them to be fully, even fearlessly, engaged in their civic life. In a letter to the Jews of Genoa, Theoderic the Great commended them, noting that “keeping the laws is the sign of civilitas.”56 The Jewish community of Arles rallied to the defense of the city when it was besieged by Franks and Burgundians in 508, and as citizens, they sided with the Arians against the Catholics. During the siege, one of the Catholic clergy fled the city at night and gave himself up to the enemy. The next day, when the escape became known, a throng of Arian Goths and Jews rushed to the bishop and accused him of conspiring to hand over the city. Soon after, one of the Jews of the city also tried to negotiate with the Franks. He tied a note to a stone and threw it at the soldiers below, as if he was attacking them, but hoping they would read his message. He told the Franks to come at night and set their scaling ladders against the wall where the Jews guarded it, and they would give way. He asked only that the Jews of Arles would therefore not be harmed or plundered. The next day, after the Franks had withdrawn, men of Arles searching the area found the note and published it in the forum. We are told only that the author of the note was found, convicted of treason, and punished.57

25.3.2 Jews of Persia Ravina II, head of Sura academy, died round the year 500, and with him the age of the Amoraim traditionally comes to a close. During the next two generations, according to the standard view, those who continued to organize and comment anonymously on the Babylonian Talmud are known as the Savoraim (from savar, “to examine”). The traditional view, however, has been challenged in recent times, and it is argued the Savoraim did not exist as a group, and the Talmud was never officially closed.58 Medieval legend tells of a Jewish uprising during the second reign of Kavad, known as the Revolt of Mar Zutra, which resulted in a brief independent Jewish kingdom. The cause of the uprising was assumed to have been in response to the radical “communism” of the Mazdakite ideology, including the sharing of wives, hence wife theft and rape that went on under Kavad. According to the legend, the exilarch Mar Zutra II (ca. 508–520) took up arms against the Persians in order to defend his people after the head of an academy was slain. With a mere 400 fighting men, representing a few thousand Jews, Mar Zutra established autonomy for his community at Mahoza, the Jewish suburb of the capital Seleucia-Ctesiphon, and ruled as a king. His people, however, fell into immorality themselves (for which the


community at Mahoza was notorious), and as a result, his army was defeated, and he was decapitated and his body hung from a cross on a bridge.59 Until the last century, the legend of Mar Zutra, after being stripped of the miraculous elements and otherwise adjusted for the infiltration of separate legends, was generally accepted as historical.60 Recent historians admit, however, that finding the historical kernel behind the legend is nearly impossible given the state of the sources. It should be consigned, along with the stories of Tobit and Judith, to pious fiction. But why a pious fiction at this point in history? It is possible that a serious conflict occurred, though it may have comprised Jews loyal to Kavad against Zamasp, or some other cause during the tumultuous reigns of Kavad and Zamasp. At the very least it appears to confirm that Jews were willing and able to take up arms if circumstances warranted. They were a minority, often at the fringes of power, but neither indifferent to imperial politics nor so subservient as to let everyone trample on them. Surely some Jews would rally to their exilarch, a descendent of David. While the likelihood that the Jews revolted against Kavad is small, the legend of Mar Zutra preserves a sense of the troubled times and heroism of Babylonian Jews in the early sixth century. More reliable evidence confirms that Jews joined the army of Kavad to fight against the Roman forces and elsewhere welcomed the Sasanian conqueror. On one campaign in 503 when Kavad advanced on a city (Tella = Constantina) in northern Mesopotamia, some of the Jews plotted to surrender the city by digging a tunnel under the walls of their synagogue to let in the Persian army. The plot was discovered, and the Romans massacred as many Jews in the city as could be found, including women and children. The bishop Bar-Hadad pleaded for an end to the massacre, and after the Roman commander Leontius ordered a halt, the soldiers reluctantly gave up the slaughter.61 On another occasion during a battle in 531 between Kavad and the Byzantine general, Belisarius, Kavad “sent to the Romans, asking them to respect the feast [of Passover] ‘for the sake of the Nazarenes and Jews who are in the army that is with me, and for the sake of yourselves who are Christians.’ ” Belisarius would have accepted the truce, but his men refused, and they went out to battle on the Day of Unleavened Bread, no doubt hoping to have the advantage over the Nazarene and Jewish soldiers. They erred. The battle was lost, many Roman troops died or drowned in the river, and Belisarius only managed to escape.62 These anecdotes on the Jews and Christian Nazarenes, given en passant, provide strong evidence for Jewish willingness to wage war on behalf of Persia and temper other anecdotes that emphasize Persian oppression of Jews or Jewish isolation.

25.3.3 Jews of Arabia At this time a conflict arose in Himyar (Yemen) between Arabs and Ethiopians that drew Arabia into the joint history of Jews and Christians.63 Himyar had been under Byzantine hegemony for more than a century. Jews had settled throughout Arabia, either through emigration from Palestine and Babylonia or through


conversion. Also, a form of monotheism known as Rahmanism appears to have flourished. Rahmanism, which may have been a form of Judaism, was based on the Aramaean word “Rahmana” (“the Merciful God”), often used in the Palestinain Talmudic tradition. Christians in Najran appropriated the name for the first person of the Trinity.64 An inscription from the later fifth century was erected by a man named Yehuda Yankuf, a native of south Arabia, who invoked “the Lord of heaven and earth” and “his people Israel.” Members of the Himyarite court had converted to Judaism, and Jews held the strategic trading post on an island called Yotabe in the Gulf of Aqabah.65 The Arab Himyarites, a tribe of southern Arabia, had converted to Judaism under the influence of their king, Yusuf As’ar, better known as Dhu Nuwas ( fl. 515–525). One source claims his mother was a Jewess from Nisibis and had taught him her faith, but he only accepted it as his own later. Like most Jews of the era, as well as the polytheists across the Arabian Peninsula, Dhu Nuwas favored Persian rule and worked on Sasanian behalf to hamper the caravan routes of the Christians in southern Arabia who were in league with the Christian Ethiopia. Despite the natural loyalties between Jewish co-religionists, the overarching dynamic in play was the strategic political advantage of the Sasanian and Byzantine empires. Jewish communities at Yathrib (Medina) and Mecca supported Dhu Nuwas, and according to Syrian-Christian sources, Jewish priests from Tiberias were sent as ministers to Himyar to instruct the people and probably to proselytize. Some scholars suppose the “priests” were rabbis, or missionaries instructed by rabbis, to which Christians gave the generic label of priests, but they may well have been nonrabbinic priests; for while some priests were rabbis, many were not. And Islamic traditions assert that the tribes of Banu Quarayza and Banu al-Nadir, in Yathrib, claimed to be priests and descendants of Aaron.66 Dhu Nuwas harassed the Arab Christians, destroyed the Ethiopian garrison at Zafar after breaking an oath to them, and then in 523 led the massacre at Najran, in which nearly all the Monophysite Christians of the city were slain, some 2000, and their bodies thrown into a burning pit. Their church was made into a synagogue. The massacre is recalled in the Qur’an, Sura 85:4–8, and gave rise to a number of martyr stories, especially of the women who threw themselves into the burning pit and “were crowned [martyrs] at Najran.” Among others, a certain Elizabeth, sister of the slain bishop, Paul, was tortured, then stripped naked and tied to a wild camel that dragged her to death in the wilderness.67 Some have suggested that in the complex nature of Christian and Jewish monotheism in Arabia, those slain were only the Monophysites supported by Ethiopia, and Nestorian Christians may have collaborated with Dhu Nuwas. But there were no doubt provocations between Jews and Christians, for in one of the martyrologies we hear of a woman martyr who was proud her father had set fire to a Jewish synagogue.68 Dhu Nuwas sent a letter to Mundhir III, king of the Lakhmid Arabs, asking him to do to the Christians in his realm as he had done. The letter became known to a Christian scholar, Simeon of Beth Arshan, who was visiting Mundhir, and he published the details of the massacre of Najran. This so enraged the Byzantines that Justin engaged the Christian king of Ethiopia, Kaleb Ella Asbeha (ca. 519–531), to intervene. The king sent a


large army to Himyar between 524 and 525, and the Christian Ethiopians defeated the Jewish Arab Himyarites. According to Arab legend, when Dhu Nuwas realized he had lost his kingdom, he rode his horse into the sea.69 After killing Dhu Nuwas, Kaleb set up a Christian kingdom, but later, around 530, the soldiers of the Ethiopian army revolted under one of their commanders, Abraha, and he established his own dynasty to rule Himyar, which may have lasted until around 570 (although ancient sources give conflicting dates).70

Chapter 26

Justinian’s Byzantine Rome and the Impact of Caesaropapism on Christians, Pagans, Samaritans, and Jews (526–565 c.e.)

26.1 Rome and Persia 26.1.1 Byzantine Rome The 38-year rule of Justinian I (527–565) brought about a great burst of imperial glory as if the old Roman Empire rose up for a final bow. Like his uncle Justin I, Flavius Justinianus hailed from Latin-speaking peasant stock in the Illyrian Balkans. On August 1, 527, he became the sole Augustus of the Roman Empire, and his wife, Theodora, was crowned Augusta. Theodora held considerable sway over her husband until her premature death in 548. By all accounts she was a ravishing beauty and plied her inheritance freely among the paramours of her youth. Born around 500 to the keeper of bears in the amphitheater, she took to acting on the stage and added intelligence and wit to her reputation, such that, in the opinion of one historian, “she amused, charmed, and scandalized Constantinople.”71 Yet still early in her life, she suddenly disappeared from the city and fled to Africa. When she returned to Constantinople some 3 years later, she led a solitary life devoted to spinning wool and contemplating religion, until one day a certain Justinian chanced upon her and succumbed to her charm. He brought her into the court and in 523 made her his consort. Theodora proved herself equal to the throne. Her own theological convictions, formed in Africa, favored the Monophysite view of Christ, and she nudged her orthodox husband toward greater rapprochement with his Monophysite subjects than he would have done if left to his royal council. Justinian nurtured a desire to restore the glory of the Roman Empire and the one true Catholic Church. Theocratic ambition drove him to wield the word and the sword with evenhanded, and seemingly inexhaustible, personal energy. As he would proclaim, “Hope in God is our sole recourse for the existence of the monarchy. It is that which assures the safety of our rule and empire. It is necessary that all our legislation flows from this principle, which is for it the beginning, the middle and the end.”


26.1.1.1 Early Years At the start of his reign Justinian commissioned a revised compilation of Roman law based on the codes of Diocletian and Theodosius II, and new legislation called the novellae. The Codex Justinianus, first published in 529, was supplemented by a digest of legal texts and commentaries from the classical age, as well as the Institutes of Justinian by 533. This body of legal work known as the Corpus Juris Civilis became, with various local modifications, the legal foundation of Western Europe and survived, especially in England, into the modern era. In 529, Justinian also closed the philosophic Academy of Athens (begun under Plato around 387 b.c.e.) as part of his campaign against paganism. This closure has traditionally signaled the end of classical antiquity and the start of the medieval age. The Neoplatonist faculty of the academy turned to Shah-an-shah Khusrau of Persia in hopes of finding in him a true philosopher-king. Justinian also declared a war on heretics, primarily Montanists, Samaritans, and Jews. In 529, he forced the Samaritan people in Palestine to convert to Christianity. Many Samaritans, mostly in the cities such as Caesarea, did nominally convert, while others fled to Persia, but a majority of the Samaritan farmers rebelled under a leader named Julian. Thousands were killed, although the hundred thousand reported by Procopius is surely an exaggeration. Christian landowners and city dwellers suffered from the Samaritan deaths and migration because the tax burden remained the same while the land lacked workers to produce the wealth required for the tax.72 After the Samaritan uprising of 529, an embassy of Samaritans and Jews from Palestine petitioned Kavad to reject the peace efforts of Justinian, claiming that all 50,000 of the Jews and Samaritans in Palestine would hand over the country to him should he invade. Therefore, Khusrau did not make peace with Rome. Later, the secret embassy was discovered, and five wealthy Samaritans under interrogation admitted the plot to Belisarius.73 The empire Justinian inherited was wracked with poverty among the masses on the one hand and powerful estates on the other. In 532, the emperor was confronted by the famous Nika riots in Constantinople. Since the abolition of gladiatorial games by Constantine, the hippodrome chariot races had become the center of public entertainment.74 Across the empire, charioteers raced under the four colors, Green, Blue, White, and Red, which were said to represent the four elements, earth, water, air, and fire.75 But the colors proved to be rallying points for venting all anguish and aggression, a chaotic passion that one contemporary historian, Procopius, called “a disease of the soul,” not entirely dissimilar to the passions surrounding modern football teams but intensified the more in antiquity by the absence of a political process for the masses. In the sixth century, the two most powerful factions, Blues and Greens, also associated themselves with the dominant theological controversy: the Blues favored the Chalcedonian orthodox, and Greens the Monophysites. As such, even the royal household was drawn in, with Justinian favoring the orthodox Blues, and Theodora favoring the Monophysite Greens. Cynics suspected the emperor and his queen purposefully took opposing sides, both in religion and in the races.76

Justinian’s Byzantine Rome and the Impact of Caesaropapism 615

Normally, the rivalry, even the riotous venting of anger, could be contained to the competing factions, but during the races in January of 532, the Blues and Greens joined forces temporarily against their common oppressors, the elite of the land. Partisans rioted after one day of races, and seven leaders were arrested. Five were hanged, but two escaped from the gallows, one from each faction, and took refuge in a monastery across the Bosporus in Chalcedon. The next day, the crowds demanded a pardon for the fugitives. The emperor gave no reply, and later in the races, rioters stormed the headquarters of the city prefect, freed any prisoners they found, and burned the headquarters to the ground. Soon the rioting and arson escalated until it became an insurrection under the watchword Nika, “Victory,” for which the incident is named. The basilica of Sophia went down in flames, along with the baths of Zeuxippus, parts of the palace, and the homes of many wealthy men. The games, however, went on. The people then demanded the removal of top city officials, the Praetorian prefect John the Cappadocian, and Tribonian, counselor to the emperor. Justinian agreed to their request, but that seems to have only emboldened the leaders of the factions. Justinian brought in the army under his commander Belisarius, and a number of the rioters were put to death, but the opposition only intensified. Constantinople had seen periodic riots during the reign of Anastasius, in 496, 501, 507, and 512. The riot of 512 had seen the rise of a usurper, and now some among the factions put forward as rival imperial candidates grandsons of the former emperor Anastasius. Members of the senate became involved, and many soldiers were unwilling to take sides until they saw which way the political winds would blow. Procopius tells us that Justinian feared for his life and might have fled had not Theodora heroically dissuaded him, citing an old adage, “purple makes a fine burial cloth.”77 Whether or not Justinian had reached this point, he rallied his faithful forces under Belisarius and drove the rioters into the hippodrome, where more than 30,000 were slaughtered. Various leaders, including senators, were also executed. The bloodbath terrified the city and left Justinian firmly on the throne. 26.1.1.2 Reconquest of the West The reconquest of the West began soon after, but first Justinian had to settle affairs with Persia. Upon assuming sole rule, Justinian was already engaged in campaigns against the Persian king Kavad I. At stake were small kingdoms between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea, Lazica and Iberia. The ruler of Lazica, Ztathius, had converted to Christianity and was baptized and crowned by Justin I. The Iberians were also a Christian kingdom under their ruler Gougenes. When the Perisan king Kavad tried to impose Zoroastrian fire worship on the Iberians, they appealed to Justin I to protect them. While Rome intervened on their behalf, another people in the region, the Tzani, converted to Christianity. Together, these Christian kingdoms formed a barrier to the Persian desire for entrance to the Black Sea and lent support to Justinian’s desire to make the Black Sea a Christian lake.78 Khusrau I succeeded his father Kavad in 531. Probably because Khusrau had his own succession problems, and because of Justinian’s alarm from the Nika riots, the two monarchs


came to terms in 532, signing the Treaty of Eternal Peace by which Rome retained control over the important Christian kingdom of Lazica on the eastern shore of the Black Sea in Asia Minor, and for a payment of gold, Khusrau relinquished Persian claims to the Caucasus. The barbarian peoples had divided up the West, and by 530, Franks controlled Gaul, Visigoths were in Spain, Vandals in North Africa, and Ostrogoths in Italy. The Franks were Catholics, all others Arians. The Vandals under king Hilderich had formed an alliance with Constantinople and granted its Catholics more protection than Vandal rulers had done since Gaiseric, but the affluent kingdom was now threatened by the Moors in the western Maurentania and south of Numidia. When the elderly Hilderich was deposed in 530 by Gelimer, Justinian had cause to intervene. He launched a fleet of 500 transports and 92 warships to restore the throne of Hilderich. The naval fleet, commanded by Belisarius, landed in 533 largely unopposed, and by March of 534, the Vandal ruler Gelimer submitted his kingdom to the emperor. Belisarius returned to Constantinople, where Justinian celebrated a triumph, reviving the ancient practice that had long been abandoned. Among the company of Vandal captives in the triumphal procession walked the deposed king Gelimer. When they reached the hippodrome, Procopius tells us, and Gelimer realized his plight, he “neither wept nor cried out, but ceased not saying over in the words of the Hebrew scripture: Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” He then prostrated himself before Justinian, who had assumed the titles “Africanus and Vandalicus.” In the end, Justinian and Theodora sent Gelimer into retirement in Galatia but did not enroll him among the patricians because he would not abandon his Arian faith. Among the spoils of war brought to Constantinople were the temple treasures from Jerusalem, probably including the golden candelabrum, which the Vandal king Gaiseric had taken from the Palatium during the sack of Rome in 455. But, Procopius says, a Jew informed a royal official that it was not safe to keep these treasures in a palace of Constantinople, or any place other than Jerusalem where they belonged, since it was for this very reason that Rome had been sacked, and now Gelimer had also lost his throne. When Justinian learned of this, he quickly sent the temple treasures to various Christian sanctuaries in the Holy City. Thereafter, they are lost to history.79 Around this time, in the tenth year of Justinian, a natural disaster, or as Procopius put it, “a most dread portent,” took place. The sun ceased to shine brightly. It appeared, rather, as under eclipse, or like the moon, for a whole year. The phenomenon is widely attested and suggests a worldwide cloud of volcanic dust, although the volcano has not been identified. Besides the human dread it inspired, the lack of sunlight affected the crops and led, along with the wars, to widespread famine in the following years. Nevertheless, emboldened by the swift victory in Africa, Justinian turned toward Italy. Again, religion played a central role. The ruling Goths were Arian, the native Latins, Catholic. King Theoderic had kept excellent relations with his Catholic populace and the bishops. However, when Justin banned the Arians of his realm in 523, tensions arose among the Catholics and Arians in his kingdom. Theoderic


sent a delegation headed by Pope John I to request that Justin annul the ban. When this failed, he intended to retaliate on the Catholics in his domain, and only his death in 526 prevented him. Upon the death of Theoderic, the family engaged in a power struggle between the 10-year-old grandson Athalaric and a nephew, Theodahat. Both sides appealed to Justinian, but before he could settle the dispute, Athalaric died, and Theodahat soon had Athalaric’s mother, Queen Amalasuntha, executed. Justinian needed no further reason to invade Italy and reclaim the land for his orthodox kingdom of God. The campaign took several years, but in 536 Belisarius succeeded in taking Sicily, and then he besieged Naples. Procopius, in recounting the siege, gives a rare glimpse of the Jews who resided throughout Italy. The resistance of Naples was led by the community of Jews who had grown accustomed to the tolerant rule of the Arian Ostrogoths and had no desire to welcome the zealous orthodoxy of the Catholic Justinian. Procopius also relates an incident which, although he did not believe it, sheds light on the continued reputation of the Jews in Italy. The Neapolitans appealed to Theodahat for aid, but the king was not a man of war, and he is reputed to have sought guidance from some “Hebrews” gifted in prophecy. One of the Hebrews advised Theodahat to confine three groups of ten swine in separate huts, and name them respectively Goths, Romans, and soldiers of the emperor. After a number of days, the Hebrew accompanied Theodahat to the huts. Of the Goth swine, all were dead but two, whereas the majority of the swine representing the soldiers were alive, and those called Romans were half alive, though the hair of all had fallen out. The Hebrew thus devined the victory of the emperor and Theodahat refused to enter into war with Belisarius. The siege of Naples lasted 20 days. Procopius says that where the Jews controlled the walls, the army of Belisarius was unable to penetrate, and when the city fell at another point, the Jews were the last to flee.80 The lack of leadership by Theodahat alarmed the Ostrogoths, and a detachment of Gothic cavalry replaced the king with a leading commander, Vitigis. While the new king consolidated his rule in Ravenna and gathered a new army, the city of Rome under the leadership of Pope Silverius (536–537) negotiated its submission and gave entrance to Justinian’s army. It was then Belisarius who defended the city against the Goths. The Gothic siege lasted 2 years, interspersed with truces and negotiations. The conflict was both ethnic, Romans against Goths, and religious, Catholics against Arians. The original imperial legitimacy given to Theoderic and the Goths by Anastasius was now swept aside by the ambition of Justinian for his unified Catholic empire. Reinforcements arrived from the East and forced the Goths to break siege and defend their capital of Ravenna. In March of 538, the Goths began to withdraw. The victory of Belisarius was delayed by disputes among the Roman commanders sent by Justinian, and Milan was forced to surrender to the Goths. The men of the city were massacred, and the women and children given as slaves to the Burgundians. More cities surrendered, and Justinian responded by giving Belisarius supreme command. Over the next year, famine weakened the ability of the Goths to resist, and Belisarius was able to reclaim for Justinian all of Italy south of the Po River, but no further.


26.1.1.3 Plague, Pestilence, and War In 541, nature again dealt the world a deadly blow. The bubonic plague came out of Africa, certainly from Egypt and perhaps from Ethiopia, and spread from seaport to seaport across the maritime empire.81 The plague took the form of buboes, infected boils mostly in the groin (boubon), but also in the armpits. The infection spread to the blood and lungs, often killing within hours. After striking the harbor cities, it dispersed to the interior. Procopius of Caesarea, who witnessed the plague and survived it, gives us a human response to so great a calamity. During these times there was a pestilence, by which the whole human race came near to being annihilated. Now in the case of all other scourges sent from Heaven some explanation of a cause might be given by daring men, such as the many theories propounded by those who are clever in these matters; for they love to conjure up causes which are absolutely incomprehensible to man, and to fabricate outlandish theories of natural philosophy, knowing well that they are saying nothing sound, but considering it sufficient for them, if they completely deceive by their argument some of those whom they meet and persuade them to their view. But for this calamity it is quite impossible either to express in words or to conceive in thought any explanation, except indeed to refer it to God.82

The historian also tells of demons and apparitions, carriers of the plague, seen everywhere, such that people locked themselves in their rooms and would not answer the cries and knocking at their doors. Physicians attempted to determine the cause and the cure, but every diagnosis proved faulty, for some infected persons whom they thought were as good as dead, survived, and others whom they expected to live, perished. Bathing seemed to help some, but it killed others. Some fell into a coma and starved to death, while others became delirious and threw themselves into the sea. When the plague fell upon Constantinople in the second year, the death toll rose quickly to 5000, and then 10,000 a day. The maximum deaths in a single day was reported at 16,000, but the total count was abandoned when it reached 230,000.83 Initially families buried their own dead, but soon the army was given charge of the burials. They began by digging trenches for mass burials, and even they could not keep up with the toll, so they tore off the roofs of fortification towers and threw the bodies in these plague pits. But the winds blew the stench of rotting corpses across the city and terrified the people all the more. A reasonable modern estimate puts the deaths in Constantinople at a third of the population, or some 250,000. Elsewhere, whole towns and villages were wiped out and abandoned. The plague fell upon the Persians in the East and the barbarians in the West, though it is apparent that the remote and landlocked areas suffered far less than the seaports and large cities. Further outbreaks of the plague, often at a 4-year cycle, continued into the eighth century. The plague appears to have drained Justinian of his energy as well as his grandiose ambition. The emperor found a new spirituality and spent long stretches of time in contemplation and fasting. He issued a group of laws designed to solidify the state religion of Catholic Christianity, and an edict in 545 dealt specifically


with the transference of church structures and property to any group, including Nestorians and Jews.84 In 548, Theodora died of cancer, and this too reduced Justinian. War continued in the East. Khusrau had broken the treaty of eternal peace in 539 while Justinian was engaged in Italy. The Persians invaded Asia Minor, attacking cites at random, massacring the population, and shocking the Romans by their sack of Antioch in 540. Bishops were left to deal with the Persian forces as best they could. Justinian realized that he could not wage wars on all fronts, and he recalled Belisarius to deal with the Persians, who had begun raiding cities in Mesopotamia, northern Syria, and Byzantine Armenia. Belisarius launched his counteroffensive, but again, neither side was able to gain complete control, and the campaigns with intermittent truces continued for the next 20 years. Moors raided the former Vandal kingdom of northern Africa, and Roman campaigns against them left the land impoverished. So too, Italy. The northern Gothic tribes elected a new king, Totila, who began to recapture the cities of Italy, with the goal of taking Rome, which he did in 546. Totila attempted to establish a rapport with Justinian according to the arrangement in 535, but Justinian would not, and he sent Belisarius to recapture Rome, which he could not, and a stalemate ensued. The senate of Rome ceased to function, and the senate house would later be converted into a church. During the sixth decade, Roman control of Africa stabilized and even grew stronger in Spain. In 552, Justinian resumed the Gothic war in Italy. He sent his senior commander, the eunuch Narses, with a large coalition of barbarian forces to confront Totila and return Rome to the empire. Narses engaged and defeated the Gothic king in southern Gaul, killing 6000 Goths and Roman deserters. The city of Rome capitulated soon after, and Narses remained there as ruler of Italy on behalf of the emperor. Different waves of Eastern barbarians, pressed from behind by the Turks, migrated from the Asian steppes to the middle Danube region left empty by the migration of the Ostrogoths to Italy. Among them were various Slavs (Sclaveni) and Turkic tribes called Bulgars, Kutrigurs, and Utrigurs. They fought each other and raided the frontiers of the Byzantine Empire, encroaching into Thrace and Greece. Unable to confront them all, Justinian paid one group to fight another and defended Constantinople when necessary. Finally in 562, Persia and the Byzantines concluded a 50-year peace. The agreement recognized the Christian kingdom of Lazica as Roman territory in exchange for an annual payment in gold to the Sasanians. Three years later, Justinian went the way of all the earth.

26.1.2 Persian Empire Khusrau I Anushirvan “of immortal soul” (531–579) began his illustrious reign by stabilizing the kingdom left to him. He suppressed a revolt of his brothers and a few nobles, and then he made peace with the Byzantines in 532. According to


the peace terms, Khusrau withdrew his forces from Lazica and Justinian agreed to pay 11,000 pounds of gold to maintain the Caucasus defenses. For the next few years Khusrau reformed the taxation and internal administration of his empire. He restored property stolen during the Mazdakite era. Taxes were assessed based on a 3-year average, a relatively fixed rate, which enabled people to plan their economic growth. Canals were restored and villages rebuilt, to encourage many of the peasant farmers who had simply given up their lands. He undermined the power of the old guard nobility, who formerly raised private armies for the national defense, by engaging the lower land owners as soldiers, or knights, under his direct pay and command. And he divided the empire into four quarters with a military commander over each, in some ways imitating the old organization of the Roman Empire. With his domestic situation secured, Khusrau resumed the war against the Byzantine Empire. The casus belli came in 539 from an embassy of the Ostrogoths, who requested Khusrau attack in order to relieve them from the pressure Justinian was imposing in Italy. Around the same time, the Armenians also appealed for aid. Both embassies warned that Justinian would not stop until he had achieved a universal empire, and only Khusrau blocked his path. In 540, Khusrau invaded northern Mesopotamia and made straight through Syria to Antioch. The city, which had been weakened by an earthquake in 526, quickly fell, was plundered and burned. Because Justinian was in no position to engage Khusrau at that time, he entered into the expensive truce that gave Khusrau a gold payment of 5000 pounds and a commitment of 500 pounds annually for the Caucasus defense. But on his return to Persia, Khusrau extorted additional payments from the cities of Mesopotamia, including Edessa and Dara. Justinian responded by refusing to make the annual payment. Khusrau’s strategic goal was to force the Byzantine defenses out of northern Mesopotamia and back to the Euphrates, and in the north, to control the eastern edge of the Black Sea, which meant the kingdom of Lazica. Trade routes were at the heart of the conflict. The wars were essentially fought on those two fronts. Belisarius returned from Italy and engaged the Persian in 543, but suffered a defeat. Khusrau then besieged Edessa, hoping to capture the entire Euphrates valley, but the city withstood the attack. A 5-year truce followed but lasted only 4 years when a Byzantine army with the aid of Lazica laid siege to Petra, along the Black Sea. Then a new power emerged from the steppes of Central Asia known as the Turkic peoples, a name associated with the Chinese designation for the nomads, T’uchüeh. Both the Persians and the Byzantines engaged them in diplomacy. Khusrau made alliance with the Turks of Transoxiana, east of the Oxus River (Amu Darya), and with their help he dealt a decisive blow to the Hephthalites in 560. Thereafter a new northern border was established between the Turks and the Iranian empire, but the Turks soon took advantage of the competition between the empires, siding with whichever suited them better. Skirmishes between Khusrau and Justinian continued until 562, when the famous 50-year peace was agreed upon, by which Khusrau withdrew from Lazica and Justinian resumed the annual payment of gold for the common defense of the Causcasus.


Jews and Christians of Persia weathered the initial persecutions during the early reign of Khursau and emerged strengthened. At the start of his rule Khusrau faced the Mazdakite heresy, as well as dissension and decay within the Zoroastrian religion. He encouraged the study of the Avesta and its commentary, the Zand. He is also credited with establishing the standard 21 Avesta nasks (divisions) from oral tradition in a newly developed Avestan script derived from the more ancient Pahlavi. He was able to find a compromise path between the competing schools of Zoroastrianism, Mazdeanism, and Zurvanism and established true Mazdean doctrine. When he had reformed the “Good Religion” of Mazdeanism and contained the Mazdakite heresy, he was able to bring the Christians and Jews back into the fold of recognized religions, and its leaders to his court. In the “50-year peace” agreement, the Christians of Persia were again guaranteed freedom of religion, except proselytization was forbidden. A decree of Khusrau I, preserved by a contemporary, is worth quoting as an indication of how Persian Mazdeans viewed themselves, therefore how Jews and Christians saw their fellow Persians. Indeed, it also reveals how all rulers viewed the place of religion within an empire. The truth of the Mazdayasnian religion has been recognized. Intelligent men can with confidence establish it in the world by discussion. But effective and progressive propaganda should be based not so much on discussion as on pure thoughts, words, and deeds, the inspiration of the Good Spirit, and the worship of the gods paid in absolute conformity to the word. What the chief Magians of Ohrmazd have proclaimed, do we proclaim; for among us they have been shown to possess spiritual insight. And we have asked and ask of them the fullest exposition of doctrine both of that which concerns spiritual insight and of that which deals with conduct on earth, and for this we give thanks to the gods. Fortunately for the good governance of the country the realm of Iran has gone forward relying on the doctrine of the Mazdayasnian religion, that is the synthesis of the accumulated knowledge of those who have gone before us throughout the whole of Xwaniras. We have no dispute with those who have other convictions, for we [ourselves] possess so much both in the Avestan language through pure oral tradition or reduced to writing in books and memoranda and in the vulgar idiom through oral transmission—in short the whole original wisdom of the Mazdayasnian religion. Whereas we have recognized that, insofar as all dubious doctrines, foreign to the Mazdayasnian religion, reach this place from all over the world, further examination and investigation prove that to absorb and publish abroad knowledge foreign to the Mazdayasnian religion does not contribute to the welfare and prosperity of our subjects as much as one religious leader who has examined much and pondered much in his recital (of the ritual); with high intent and in concert with the perspicacious, most noble, most honorable, most good Magian men, we do hereby decree that the Avesta and Zand be studied zealously and ever afresh and that what is acquired therefrom may worthily increase and fertilize the knowledge of our subjects.85

Within the context of “those who have other convictions” Christians and Jews found their place. What Khusrau and his successors would not tolerate were heretics who threatened the strength and purity of Mazdeanism, or proselytizing from other religions. The kings were naturally less concerned with doctrine than with social stability. This policy continued that of the old Roman rule, in which the


emperor’s interest was for religions that contributed to the welfare of society by not undermining the state cult. Khusrau provided a suitable template for religious rule later adopted by the Muslims. The Christian empire laid greater emphasis on creedal unity, and therefore, showed greater concern to win the doctrinal debate. In this generation, then, we see a significant distinction between Khusrau and Justinian. While Khusrau upheld a strong Zoroastrian orthodoxy on his own people and continued to persecute Mazdakites as a heresy of his realm, he permitted Jews and all Christian minorities, including the Monophysites, to practice their own faiths. Justinian, however, like many of his predecessors, believed the unity of the empire required the unity of Christianity and gave his utmost to bring Catholicism to all parts of the empire. Jews caught between the two empires inexorably drifted toward the Sasanian protection. Those near the frontier and able to migrate did so. The continued tolerance most of the Sasanian rulers showed for Christians and Jews, however, undermined their support of the Persian magi and nobles, so that in the end, the welfare of the Christians and Jews of Persia came at the expense of the political stability of the rulers. The Christians of Syria and Persia, as elsewhere, retained a stronger sense of mission and a weaker sense of diplomacy than did Zoroastrians or even Jews. The peace agreements between Persia and Byzantine Rome usually included a restriction on Christian proselytization. While the Jews awaited messiah, the Christians expected, and worked toward, the conversion of the Sasanian Empire to Christianity. Had not Christ been victorious over Rome? Martyrdom remained a noble end and a worthy goal.

26.2 Christians The wars of Justinian, and the general poverty of the land, left Christians in this generation eking out a livelihood, with little time for the theological battles in the East. Two shining lights of this Christian generation in the West were a brother and sister named Benedict and Scholastica. Born at Nursia, Italy, Benedict (ca. 480–550) studied in Rome, but, overwhelmed by the depravity of the city, he became a hermit and dwelt in a cave near Subiaco, about 40 miles east of Rome. His ascetic life attracted pupils and made the local clergy, whose own lives seemed under pious scrutiny, uncomfortable and irritated. Benedict took his small group to Monte Cassino, a hill midway between Naples and Rome, where they tore down a pagan shrine and built a monastery. His sister, Scholastica, founded a convent at nearby Plombariola, and they met annually to share their spiritual journeys. Benedict wrote his famous Rule for the order of their ascetic community. It was marked by strict obedience to the abbot, but also it was more lenient than many earlier rules, for he allowed some wine to be drunk. His emphasis on community and labor, along with meditation, though no daily mass was prescribed, opened the way to a healthy monastic, the Benedictine Order, and he is justly called the patriarch of Western monasticism.


26.2.1 Caesaropapism Historians and churchmen alike have applied to Justinian the epithet Caesaropapism. Emperors before him had issued edicts on the practices and beliefs of religion, but he assumed the right and responsibility of determining the unification of the faith. “Any difference between priesthood and empire is small.”86 The church was to be governed by the five patriarchates: Rome, Alexandria, Jerusalem, Antioch, and Constantinople, over which the emperor presided. The major theological controversy that plagued the reign of Justinian, therefore, was of his own making. Encouraged no doubt by Theodora, he sought a compromise between the orthodox, whose strength was at Rome and the West, and the Monophysites, who dominated in Egypt and the East. The solution for unity, suggested to him by Theodore of Askidas, the bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia, was a condemnation of dead theologians. If both sides could come together with a common anathema against heresy, a common enemy of the faith, they might commune over that and restore the one church of the kingdom of God. The bishop proposed that Justinian eliminate the decisions of Chalcedon that the East disliked, specifically, the failure to condemn Nestorianism, or its two supporters, Theodoret of Cyrrus and Ibas of Edessa. Moreover, the council had never condemned Theodore of Mopsuestia, the teacher of Nestorius. Armed with these uncondemned heretics, Justinian issued an edict in 543 known as the Three Chapters. The word “chapter” (kephalaion) referred to the anathemas against the writings of the men in question but came to represent the individuals themselves: Ibas, Theodoret, and Theodore of Mopsuestia. Once the edict of condemnation was issued, all bishops in support of the Council of Chalcedon faced a difficult decision of revising a major ecumenical council or upholding the council and thereby defending heretics. The Eastern patriarchs signed, though some, including Ephrem of Antioch, wrote Pope Vigilius that they had signed under pressure. The West protested the edict. But Justinian required unanimity. Pope Vigilius, who owed his papacy to the intervention of Justinian and Theodora precisely for this occasion, had not the courage to go against the bishops of the West, and he refused to condemn the Three Chapters. Justinian had him arrested in 545 during a mass at St. Cecilia on the pretext of business requiring his presence in Sicily, away from the Gothic war. During the winter, bishops of the West met with Vigilius to emphasize their opposition to the Three Chapters. The pope finally reached Constantinople in 547 and met the emperor. There, under pressure, Vigilius anathematized the Three Chapters but upheld Chalcedon. When news reached the West, he was condemned by all, even by bishops in Gaul, and a synod in Carthage excommunicated him. After Theodora died, Vigilius recovered his courage. He retracted his decision, claiming he issued it under duress. Because Justinian could not afford such opposition in the West, he permitted Vigilius to go free, though not to leave Constantinople. Vigilius in turn promised to work for condemnation of the Three Chapters. In 553, Vigilius signed an orthodox confession of faith presented by the bishops of Constantinople, Antioch, and Alexandria. Vigilius thought he could then return to Rome, but Justinian thought it a splendid


time for another ecumenical council to demonstrate ecclesiastical unity of the empire. Vigilius asked that it be held in Italy so more Western bishops might attend. Justinian required it convene in Constantinople. What had truth to do with numbers of bishops? The Council of Constantinople convened in May of 553 and held eight sessions over 2 months. Vigilius refused to attend in person, which made the council less than ecumenical and greatly annoyed the emperor. But Caesar had his way. He exiled dissenting bishops, pushing through his agenda at the council without the presence of the pope. By 554, even Vigilius condemned the Three Chapters, which he probably would have done all along, but as patriarch of the West he had to show a good fight for their cause. In 555, he returned to Rome but died on the journey. He was not buried in the basilica of St. Peter with the previous bishops, but in the church of St. Sylvester. Justinian, without counsel from the West, nominated Pelagius as pope and set a precedent for the future control of the papacy by the emperor. The Council of Constantinople, known as the Fifth Ecumenical Council, was rejected by bishops both East and West; a failure to be laid at the feet of Caesaropapism, as vacuous as the fleetingly restored Roman Empire that occupied Justinian even as it drained the economic vitality from his people.

26.2.2 Syrian Orthodox Church At the beginning of Justinian’s reign, the Monophysite movement was greatly distressed by the persecutions under Justin, and but for one man, John of Tella, it may have been reduced to extinction in Roman Syria. John of Tella (483–538), born John Bar Qursos, was a soldier before entering a monastery. He was appointed bishop of Tella, a fortress town on the Roman Persian frontier (near modern Aleppo, Syria) in 519. John made it his mission to spread a moderate Monophysite theology of the Syrian and Egyptian monks, one that rejected the view of Eutyches and also of Chalcedon. He worked tirelessly on both sides of the Roman-Persian frontier in northeast Syria, and into Mesopotamia and the province of Adiabene. He was called to participate in a debate over the nature of Christ at Constantinople in 532, and thereafter the Chalcedonians marked him an enemy. He suffered violence during the retaliation of the orthodox against the Monophysites for their earlier persecution. The conflict reached its watershed between 536 and 538, when Justinian began forcing the unity of Eastern bishops with the Chalcedonian Definition. Theodosius of Alexandria, the Monophysite patriarch, was deposed and exiled to Constantinople, where he resided under the protection of the empress, Theodora. John of Tella was arrested in 538 and executed at Antioch. Patriarch Severus of Antioch died two days later. With these two leaders gone, the head seemed to have been severed from the Monophysite body. The following year, war broke out between Persia and Rome, which made the consecration of bishops difficult and dangerous. By the time Khusrau sacked Antioch in 540, Monophysite Christians throughout Roman Syria suffered from a dearth of leadership.


Reprieve for the Monophysites came by an Arab king. The Ghassanids, centered around their capital of Bostra, had been incorporated into the Roman province of Arabia, and they had received Christians since the fourth century. In 541, the Ghassanid king, Arethas (al Harith ibn Jabalah), converted to Monophysite Christianity and requested of Constantinople that orthodox Monophysite bishops be sent to him. Theodora thought this an ideal opportunity to support the Monophysite cause, and she arranged for Theodosius, the exiled Monophysite patriarch of Alexandria under her protection, to secretly ordain a monk named Jacob as metropolitan of Edessa, and a certain Theodore as metropolitan of Bostra.87 Theodore went to serve the Ghassanid kingdom, while Jacob took up the missionary mantle of John of Tella. Jacob “Baradaeus” (ca. 500–578), a monk as rugged and disciplined as ever there was, received the epithet, Baradaeus (Bar Addai), because of the “rags” he wore. Jacob was himself a native of Tella and had studied at the monastery of Phesilta, near Nisibis. For the rest of his life, he traveled about the Syrian East disguised as a wandering beggar, secretly ordaining thousands of monks into a new episcopal structure and essentially organizing the Syrian Orthodox Church. Jacob received charge over all the territory between Jerusalem and Constantinople, including Cyprus. His mission lasted 35 years. He visited much of Syria, Armenia, Cappadocia, Cilicia, Isauria, and Pamphylia, and he visited the islands of Rhodes, Cyprus, Chios, and Mitylene. He was often sought out for destruction, but never found, due to the loyalty of his followers. Another Monophysite monk, John of Amida (ca. 507–586), the important city on the Tigris, was commissioned by Justinian in 542, with the support of Theodora, to convert the scattered enclaves of pagans throughout Asia. He is said to have baptized 70,000 into the church and established 98 new churches and 12 monasteries. Those who entered the church did so as Monophysites.88 In 558, John was ordained bishop of Ephesus by Jacob Baradaeus, and he became known as John of Ephesus in the history of the church. He is most well known for his Ecclesiastical History, a third of which survives, and his Lives of the Eastern Saints. A third Monophysite missionary was John, bishop of Hephaistos, Egypt. He had been ordained bishop by Theodosius in 536. He accompanied Theodosius into his exile in Constantinople, but soon he found his life endangered and departed to travel around Asia Minor and the Greek islands. He ordained clergy into the Monophysite church everywhere he went. An incident in 541 reveals that, while the relationship between the Monophysites and the Chalcedonians might often be violent, mostly it was quite peaceful. John of Hephaistos was joined by John of Ephesus for an ordination of 50 presbyters (priests) on the upper floor of a church, while at the same time, a Chalcedonian congregation worshiped below, evidence that religious conflicts are never quite as ubiquitous as they appear in history.89 At this stage, the Monophysites, as a minority church, were organized not by regions but by allegiance. And while Theodosius, the exiled Monophysite patriarch of Alexandria, lived, he was the head of the scattered Monophysite churches. Even after the death of his protectress, Theodora, in 548, Justinian let him lead his flock, which, after all, was a sizable portion of Justinian’s empire.


After the Fifth Ecumenical Council, the Monophysite leaders, especially Jacob Baradaeus, intensified the ordination of presbyters and bishops. Jacob traveled to the court of Khusrau in 559 and requested legitimacy and protection for the growing number of Monophysites in Persia. Khusrau granted his request, and Jacob ordained a converted Nestorian bishop, Ahoudemmeh, as Monophysite metropolitan of the East. Ahoudemmeh in turn brought Arab tribes into his Christian fold. By the death of the Monophysite patriarch Theodosius in 566, Jacob Baradaeus and his companions had ordained 27 Monophysite bishops across East Syria, Asia Minor, and Mesopotamia.90 The Monophysite Syrian Orthodox Church had irreversibly come into being, to be known by many as the Jacobites in honor of their founder. Monophysite Christianity had also spread, largely through the connivance and financial support of Theodora, from Egypt’s border at Syene (Aswan) south into Nubia (Sudan) and Ethiopia. The kings of Nubia and Ethiopia embraced this Christianity and looked to the patriarch of Alexandria as the spiritual leader. The Armenian churches had not participated in the Council of Chalcedon or taken a stand on the controversy, but they did respond to the Council of Constantinople and repudiated Chalcedon. They also abhorred the Nestorian theology of Persia, partly out of a defense against Persian hegemony. From their political predicament of a delicate neutrality between the antagonistic empires, the Armenian church naturally aligned itself with the middle ground of Christianity as they saw it, the Monophysites. By the end of the sixth century, Monophysite Christianity had embedded itself in the ethnic identity and confined by a national languages of Armenia, Egypt, and Ethiopia. In due course it would yield the Armenian, Coptic, and Ethiopian churches.

26.2.3 Christians of Persia The Persian Church of the East was beset with the rival heads, Elisha, son of the former catholicos Shila, and Narseh of Khuzistan. Narseh died in 535, but the controversy had endured too long, and the bishops loyal to him would not submit to Elisha. In 539, a synod declared that neither Elisha nor Narseh was a legitimate leader. Elisha abdicated his illegitimate see, and the elderly Paul of Khuzistan was elected the legitimate catholicos. The hope for a healing of the church rested on Paul because he also held the favor of Khusrau. He died after 2 months in office. The bishops then elected Mar Aba, formerly a high-ranking official of the Persian government who had converted to Christianity. Mar Aba had been the secretary to the governor of the province of Beth Garmai and was a member of the magian clan. According to legend, his conversion came about one day as he sought to cross the Tigris by ferry. He noticed a Jew by the name of Joseph on the boat and ordered him to get off and wait to cross later. Joseph humbly obeyed. The ferry, however, was unable to cross the river against a stiff headwind. Mar Aba invited the Jew to board again, and the ferry proceeded to the other side. During their conversation, Mar Aba learned that the Jew was also a Christian, and so impressed by Joseph was Mar Aba that he resigned his magian


status and became a Christian. One may suppose that behind the legend, some kindness of a Jewish believer led to the conversion of Mar Aba. He studied at the school of Nisibis, hence learned Nestorian theology, and traveled to Edessa, where he studied Greek. Thereafter, he enhanced his education by visiting Constantinople and possibly Jerusalem, Alexandria, Athens, and Corinth.91 He returned to Nisibis and became a professor in the school until the bishops called on him to lead them in 540. Mar Aba I (540–552) undertook his office with the greatest urgency and despite the danger to himself as a former magi. The sources of his life offer a somewhat confused chronology, but the first years of Mar Aba were beset with the difficulties of Khusrau’s wars against Byzantine Rome (540–545). Many prisoners from Roman Syria were exiled into Persia.92 Many of the prisoners were Christians, and most of them were probably Monophysites, not Nestorians. They had to be settled and integrated into the Church of the East. Shortly after his election, Mar Aba founded his own theological school in Seleucia-Ctesiphon. He then devoted his efforts to reuniting the bishops who had split over the dual catholicate and to reforming the discipline of all Christians in Persia. Among his reforms, he prohibited incest (marriage within the forbidden degrees of Torah), a practice of many Persians, and one that Christians had begun to follow. He established new churches at Anbar and Karkha in the province of Patriarchalis (central Iraq). In 544, Mar Aba summoned a synod, at which most bishops accepted his reforms and church discipline. Among the canons passed covering the lay Christian, we learn that exorcisms may be performed only with the permission of the bishop; the eating of meat is approved, except meat involved in idolatry or containing blood, a verdict no doubt aimed at the practice of some monasteries that punished meat eating as if it were fornication; women were not permitted to dress in masculine clothes or cut their hair, which God gave them as a sign of submission.93 The last canon (40) affirms the Nicene Creed passed by the 318 bishops, as understood by “the saint, beloved of God, the blessed Mar Theodore [of Mopsuestia], bishop, and Interpreter of the holy Books.”94 The records of the synod of 544 also contain a letter of Mar Abba on the “orthodoxy of faith.” It avoids the technical terms of the christological controversy but states the Nestorian position: The Christ is not simply a man, nor God stripped of the garment of humanity by which he was revealed, but Christ is God and man, that is, humanity anointed of the divinity which anointed him, as it is said: Therefore God, your God, has anointed you with the oil of gladness above your fellows, which signifies his humanity; and also: In the beginning was the Word, which shows his divinity.95

At some point, Mar Aba was summoned before a court of magi and charged to annul some of the canons of the church and to prohibit Christian proselytization. He refused and was placed under house arrest in a village in Azerbaijan. He remained there for several years, but he was able to carry on his duties and meet with those who came to him. Around 548, after an attempt on his life by a disaffected Christian, Mar Aba fled to the court of Khusrau. The king granted Mar Aba asylum, but again imprisoned him. During the brief attempt to usurp the throne by a brother of Khusrau in 550, many Christians sided with the usurper, but after


Mar Aba exposed a plot against Khusrau by Christians, the king freed him. Mar Aba died in 552, lamented by his church, and despite his Nestorian Christology, highly regarded by clergy in the West. Khusrau intervened in the election of the next catholicos and appointed his own man, Joseph, who may have been his court physician. Joseph (552–567) convened a synod in 554, which, despite his own royal appointment, renewed the decision that a catholicos must be elected from the standing metropolitans, and the catholicos should not take the title “patriarch” until the metropolitans have consecrated him. The reality that the shah must also approve the election is left unmentioned. Patriarch Joseph was more a man of the world than a spiritual leader, often accused of extreme avarice, despotism, and sacrilege. The metropolitans deposed him around 567, and Khusrau accepted their verdict. In 562, Khusrau and Justinian signed the 50-year peace. The agreement contained a clause on the rights of Christians in the Persian Empire. It is preserved by Menander the Guardsman: It was agreed that they [Persian Christians] could build churches and worship freely and without hindrance sing their hymns of praise, as is our custom. Furthermore, they would not be compelled to take part in Magian worship nor against their will to pray to the gods that the Medes believe in. For their part, the Christians would not venture to convert the Magians to our beliefs. It was also agreed that the Christians would be permitted to bury their dead in graves, as is our custom.96

We are not informed as to who may have pushed for this protection clause in so important a treaty, whether the respective patriarchs of Persia and Constantinople, or other diplomats, but the clergy must have attempted to enforce the ban on Christian proselytization in exchange for their freedom to worship. The agreement also shows how Khusrau took seriously Justinian’s claim to be responsible for all Christians, which in this case, included the Nestorian Christians of Persia.

26.3 Jews 26.3.1 Legislation Concerning Jews After a hiatus of nearly a century, imperial legislation dealing with Jews resumed. The initial campaign against all “non-Orthodox” begun in 528 was part of Justinian’s goal for doctrinal unity within the empire. As such, Jews and Samaritans were to be listed with heretics and pagans. The imperial view was straightforward: As for the other heretics, of whatever error or name they might be (for we call heretic everyone who is not devoted to the Catholic Church and to our Orthodox and holy Faith), as well as the pagans who try to introduce polytheism, the Jews and the Samaritans, we intend not only that what was already laid down in the laws shall be recalled and made firmer through this present law, but also that more shall be declared; through which greater security, also honor and esteem shall envelope those sharing in our pure faith.97


Several of the laws repeated earlier legislation. An edict in 527 barred Jews, Samaritans, and heretics, including the “accursed Manichaeans,” from public office or the legal profession, except for mandatory duties of public service, and placed them at a disadvantage in lawsuits against orthodox Christians.98 The edict specifies that such people may not “put on an official belt, neither civil nor military,” and notes that Jews and heretics had ignored the ban over the past century: “they . . . have been seized by an insufferable effrontery, and heedless of the laws’ command infiltrated public offices.” The edict also admits that magistrates have been remiss in prosecuting the previous legislation. Justinian further declares that those who have already “taken an office or put on an official belt . . . shall be thrown out on the spot from participating in these.” The edict tacitly admits, therefore, that Jews were in the government and in the military.99 The new edict was probably enforced, initially at least, and this law, supplemented by others, may have led to the Samaritan revolt in 529. The law would have to be clarified over the next decade to enforce the acceptance by heretics of their public obligations in the absence of all privileges and to permit heretics to give testimony in court cases where no Christians were involved.100 Another law prohibited Jewish and Samaritan parents from disinheriting children who convert to Christianity. In the same law, Christians who participated in pagan sacrifices were deprived of the right to bequeath property.101 Likewise, pagans, Jews, Samaritans, and heretics were prohibited from possessing Christian slaves; they were granted freedom, and a fine of 30 gold pounds was imposed on their former masters. In 534, following the victory of Belisarius over the Vandals, Justinian found it necessary to reissue the edict against possession of Christian slaves by Jews, pagans, and heretics to the North Africans.102 In this case, Christian slaves who had been freed, and then their former masters later converted to Christianity, were not to be returned as slaves. Beside the fact that Jews, pagans, and heretics continued to own Christian slaves, it appears that Jewish slave owners, along with pagans and heretics, converted to Christianity in sufficient numbers to require the law. A restriction on “abominable marriages,” that is, within forbidden degrees of near kinship or polygamy, was issued in 535.103 The law was soon met by a heartfelt plea from the Jews of Tyre and a village nearby. The text of their appeal in the law’s preamble is worth quoting in full. Your Excellency reported to us that the inhabitants of the village of Syndus and the Hebrews of Tyre who have contracted abominable marriages come under our Divine law, yet they do not give the fourth part of their property according to what was ordained in this matter, and some of them have come already to the third age and are fathers to children, and for this reason supplicated with tears that they shall not be forced now to send away their wives but that they shall keep them and have the children born to them—or those that shall be born—as their heirs, and that they shall not fear any punishment for this.104

Justinian granted these two communities an exemption from the harsh punishments and allowed children born of such unions to inherit, while warning all others not to suppose the law had been repealed. This exception in the laws of the


land represents a middle stage toward a uniform law of marital relations that will include monogamy among the Jewish communities. When Justinian had reclaimed North Africa for the empire, he fortified cities against the threat of the Moors. In response to a request from the bishop of Carthage, Justinian issued a law in 535 that directed all shrines of heretics, including Jews, to be transformed into churches.105 On the western desert of Cyrene (Libya), Justinian found ancient shrines dedicated to Ammon and Alexander the Great. After making Christians of the people in the area, he transformed the shrines into churches. Procopius tells us also of a Jewish community near the city of Boreium on the westernmost coast (perhaps modern Tabilbê) who had dwelt there from time immemorial. They worshiped in an ancient shrine or temple (naos) built, they said, by Solomon while he ruled over the Hebrew nation. The emperor brought the community into Christianity, apparently by forced baptism, and made the architectural changes necessary to transform the shrine into a church.106 The persistent tampering with the law, says Procopius, included Justinian’s effort to undermine the Jewish way of life. For example, if Passover ever chanced to occur before the Dominical Pascha in a given year, Justinian forbade the Jews to celebrate it at the proper time. Jews convicted of “having tasted the flesh of lambs” at this time were punished with heavy fines.107 Perhaps the most far-reaching law issued by Justinian was Novel 131.108 In paragraph 14 of the lengthy text, Jewish synagogues are lumped together with all non-Catholic places of worship, which essentially removed the ancient Roman guarantee of religio licita to Judaism.109

26.3.2 Justinian’s Novel 146 The final law of Justinian pertaining to Jews, Novel 146 issued in 553, offers a glimpse into the state of Jewish worship in the sixth century. A dispute arose in the synagogue of Constantinople between Jews who wished to restrict the liturgical Bible reading to Hebrew and those who wanted it also in Greek translation, which they could understand. A Latin publication of this law for Jews in the West implies that languages other than Hebrew were commonly used. The Mishnah had permitted the Shema to be recited in any language, though Judah I had insisted it should only be in Hebrew. Later one rabbi found a synagogue in Caesarea read the Shema in Greek, and he wished to stop them, but another rabbi argued it were better to say it in whatever language they knew than not at all.110 The law covers a number of stipulations: freedom to choose any language for the liturgy (Latin is specified); readings of Scripture in Greek should be from the Septuagint (due to its miraculous translation, no less than certain prophecies about Jesus, e.g., Isa 7:14), but the Aquila translation is allowed; Jewish authorities are forbidden to punish those who exercised the freedom of languages; the deuterōsis (Mishnah, or perhaps all rabbinic tradition teaching) was prohibited from synagogue use; a ban on views long associated with Sadducees and Samaritans, namely, denial of the resurrection, last judgment, and creation of angels; and fines and corporal punishment are imposed for breaking this law and banishment for incorrect beliefs, “in this way purifying the nation of the Hebrews from the error introduced into it.”111


Whatever may have been the internal nature of the synagogue dispute, Justinian betrays an ecclesiastical motivation in his preamble for acting on the petition of the synagogue: It was right and proper that the Hebrews, when listening to the Holy Books, should not adhere to the literal writings but look for the prophecies contained in them, through which they announce the Great God and the Savior of the human race, Jesus Christ.

Scholarly analysis of this law in past generations has divided over which group in the synagogue, the “Hebrews” or the “Hellenists,” brought the matter to trial in a Christian court. But more recent studies have concentrated on the motivation of the emperor, or his Christian council, for taking up the matter at the imperial level, and it has been suggested that a minor Jewish dispute was seized upon to initiate another round of legislative control over the Jews. Imperial opportunism, however, should not diminish the dynamics of Jewish liturgy. The cause of the legal challenge indicates a lively debate among the Jews, at least in Constantinople, over the authority of rabbinic traditions, possibly introduced in this generation by immigrants from Palestine. This is the first acknowledgment outside rabbinic tradition of the use of the Mishnah, or perhaps deuterōsis refers to the haggadic sermons called Midrashim within the synagogue. Either corpus, however, was in Hebrew, which remained beyond the ability of most Christians or imperial overseers to monitor, and therefore led to suspicion of anti-Christian preaching or liturgy in the synagogues. It is possible some Jews wished to avoid any such suspicions and advocated services in Greek, or Latin in the West.112

26.3.3 Samaritan Revolt Constraints placed on the Jews of Palestine were not as great as those against the Samaritans, who were forbidden to have synagogues at all. The pressure mounted until a revolt broke out in 556. According to the chronographer John Malalas: The Samaritans and Jews at Caesarea in Palestine rioted. After uniting together like faction members they attacked the Christians of the city and killed many of them. They attacked and plundered the churches. When the governor of the city went out to help the Christians, the Samaritans attacked and killed him in the praetorium [governor’s headquarters] and looted all his possessions. The wife of the governor Stephanos went to Constantinople and approached the emperor. On hearing what had been done by the Samaritans, he was incensed and ordered Amantios, the governor of the East at that time, to investigate the events, including the murder of Stephanos. After receiving imperial messages and going off to Caesarea, Amantios searched for and found those who had committed the murders. He hanged some, beheaded others or cut off their right hands, and confiscated others’ property. There was great fear in the city of Caesarea and the eastern regions.113

The extent to which Jews were involved is not clear. Theophanes describes the Samaritan-Jewish rebellion as a combination of the Green and Blue factions, which drew upon every sort of social discontent as well as the usual plundering by crowds


during anarchy. The more enduring effect of the rebellion, however, was to reconcile Jews with Samaritans and set them against the Christians over the next generations.

26.3.4 Jews in Persia By the middle of the century, after some 30 years of vacancy, the exilarch Ahunai (Huna, Hananiah) had resumed his position as leader of the Jews (ca. 550–560), though we know little of his life or that of his son, Kafnai. The sages of this generation are considered the second generation of Saboraim. At Sura we know of Rav Aina, and at Pumbedita, Rav Simona and Rabbai of Rob.114 Although the evidence is sparse, all indications suggest that Jews continued as a well-off minority in Persia, integrated into the government and military, though only among the lower levels. For example, we learn of a Jewish jailer given the responsibility of guarding a Christian martyr, Shirin.115 While a number of Persian nobility converted to Christianity, few if any became Jews. The Jewish communities were by now, after a very long history among the Persians, more integrated and less a threat than the rising Christian minority. In the next generation, at any rate, we see the Jews taking sides in a struggle for the Persian throne. We have no information on the relations of the Jews in Persia with those of Palestine, to what extent they facilitated the Samaritan and Jewish embassy, but we should assume the Jews of both empires were in continual communication.

Chapter 27

A Papal Throne for Christians and Jews (565–602 c.e.)

27.1 Rome and Persia 27.1.1 Byzantine Empire and the West After the towering figure of Justinian departed Byzantine Rome, the empire collapsed. Despite the 50-year peace established between Justinian and Khusrau I in 561/562, raids and battles continued intermittently for the next generation. According to the preeminent church historian of the day, John of Ephesus (ca. 507–586), the end times must surely be imminent: “for I am fully aware that the times of the world are on the wane, and all but spent: yet have I recorded these events, because I would have men know them during the period, short though it be, ere this woebegone world shall pass away.”116 The wars, earthquakes, and bursts of bubonic plague foreshadowed the Apocalypse. Justin II (565–578) came to the throne as the adopted nephew of Justinian. Initially he handled tolerably well the problems laid at his feet. He reduced state expenditures and remitted some taxes. In 569, Justin agreed to continue the annual payments to the Sasanian Empire. But in 572, the predominantly Christian population of Persarmenia killed their Persian governor and asked to enter Roman hegemony. Justin took this as the opportunity to stop payments. The Persian ambassador to Constantinople, an Armenian Christian, requested the agreed-upon payments as usual, but Justin refused it and set himself to war. The army Justin sent into northern Persia was an ill-equipped force of 3000 soldiers drawn from garrisons along the frontier. Khusrau crushed the Roman forces near Nisibis, and within 6 months he captured the fortified city of Dara. The Persian army then crossed the Euphrates, despoiled the outskirts of Antioch, and burned down the city of Apamea. The sudden loss of Dara was apparently too much for Justin, and he is said to have gone insane, or at least seriously incapacitated. His wife, Sophia, entered into peace negotiations, resumed the annual payments in 574, and arranged for Justin to adopt Tiberius, who ruled as regent until the death of Justin.117 After a 2-year hiatus in hostilities, both Roman and Persian armies attacked each other’s domains in 576: Rome into Armenia, and Persia into Cappadocia. Khusrau got the worst of the adventure when his army was ambushed on his return across the Euphrates, and besides defeat, he lost his personal fire altar, an ill omen for the Persians.


Khusrau fared better in his wars at the southern frontier of the two empires on the Arabian peninsula. Abraha, the old ruler of the Christian Himyarite kingdom, had built a new cathedral at his capital Sana as a rival pilgrimage site to that of Mecca. But on the day of its dedication, some men of the Meccan tribe of Quraish (Qaryash) secretly defiled the cathedral. Later, Abraha’s son Yaksum led an army with one or more elephants to Mecca, supposedly to desecrate the Ka‘bah. But his army was either defeated in battle or suffered a plague, and the Ethiopian army perished, an event immortalized in the Qur’an: In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful. Hast thou not seen how thy Lord dealt with the possessors of the elephant? Did He not cause their war to end in confusion? And send against them birds in flocks? Casting at them decreed stones— So He rendered them like straw eaten up?118

According to Muslim traditions, this was the Year of the Elephant, 570, which also gave birth to a boy named Muhammad. At that time, a prince of the former aristocracy, Saif ibn DhuYazan, who had taken refuge in the Persian court, was ready to reclaim the Himyarite kingdom. Khusrau sent an army by sea to join the forces, both Jews and pagans, that rallied around Saif ibn DhuYazan. The prince defeated the Christians, set himself up as the new Himyarite king, and recaptured the land for Persia, which now controlled the trade route through the Red Sea.119 Justin II died in 578, and Khusrau followed suit in 579. The Persian successor, Hurmazd IV (579–590), resumed hostilities on a small scale. The Roman successor, Tiberius II (578–582), left the eastern defense of the empire in the hands of his ablest commander, Maurice, who campaigned in Media and Mesopotamia. He returned to Constantinople in 582, where Tiberius II elevated him to be his successor. Maurice (582–602) ruled for 20 years and saw the sixth century to a close. During his reign, Persia suffered some instability when Hurmazd was overthrown, and Maurice was drawn into their political disputes. This was symptomatic of the mutual dependence that, like a bad but unbreakable marriage, the Roman and Persian empires shared in their efforts to survive. Maurice kept the uneasy balance of power with Persia for a decade. His generals campaigned in the northern regions between Mesopotamia and the Black Sea, primarily in the kingdom of Arzanene. Dwindling finances forced Maurice to reduce pay in 588, which sparked a mutiny among the troops in Mesopotamia. The army replaced their commander with another, Germanus, who was able to pacify the soldiers with the promise of new funds. After Germanus won a battle at Martyropolis, he put the Persian booty toward payment of the troops. Gregory, the bishop of Antioch, also helped recruit and supply the troops, as political responsibilities fell increasingly on the clergy.120 In 589, the Persians reconquered Martyropolis. Once again a common foe, the Turks, broke the stalemate between Byzantine Rome and Persia. Justinian had attempted an alliance with the Turks, both to threaten Persia and to establish a silk trade route to the north of Persia, but little

A Papal Throne for Christians and Jews 635

came of it. The Persians had made an alliance with the Turks and used that alliance to defeat the Hephthalites, who had long threatened Persia from east of the Caspian Sea. Now, under their leader Chagan, the Turks asserted themselves as a threat and power broker along the northern frontiers of both the Roman and Persian empires. The Turks demanded a large payment of gold from Sasanian Persia to keep the peace along their northern frontier. Hurmazd sent his general Bahram Chobin to assault the small kingdom of Suania in the western Caucasus Mountains. Roman troops entered the fray and defeated Bahram Chobin. Hurmazd recalled Bahram, but the general mutinied. Hurmazd was soon overthrown in a palace coup, and his son Khusrau II Parwez (“the Triumphant”) came to the throne. Bahram Chobin defeated Khusrau II, who then fled to Roman territory and sought help from Maurice to restore his throne. In return, Khusrau would give back Martyroplis, Dara, and Armenia. Maurice accepted the proposal, and after some difficult fighting in the mountains of Azerbaijan, he defeated Bahram Chobin and Khusrau returned to his throne in 591. Relations between Persia and Byzantine Rome were marred only by the Ghassanid Arabs, who were clients of the Byzantines. The Ghassanids raided the western territory of Persia, and forced Maurice to send an embassy to Khusrau to assure him the Arabs were acting of their own accord. With peace reaffirmed, the diplomatic concord reached a blissful high, and the name of Khusrau Parwez was praised in Christian tradition, even to the point where some thought he had converted to Christianity. That is unlikely, though he did contribute funds to Christian shrines and took a Christian wife, Shirin, who would later play an important role. The Persian accord left Maurice strengthened and at peace with the age-old rival of the Roman Empire. Besides the territorial gains, the annual tribute was declared void. Peace on the eastern front allowed Maurice to resume defenses against the Western barbarians, primarily the Avars and Slavs in the Balkans and the Lombards in Italy. The greatest threat to Byzantine Rome came from the Avars, a Turkic-speaking people originating, like the Huns, out of Mongolia. They had been gathering strength during the last decades of Justinian, and by 572, Justin I began annual payments of gold to prevent the Avars from despoiling the Balkans. Tiberius II had stopped the payment in 578, and the Avars resumed their hostilities and captured the city of Sirmium in 581. Tiberius bought peace by renewing the annual gold subsidy. Meanwhile, the Slavs raided Greece, Thessaly, and Thrace at will. When Maurice came to the throne in 582, the Avars raised their demand from 80,000 to 100,000 gold solidi. Maurice refused all payment, and again the Avars captured various cities along the coast of the Black Sea. Maurice eventually resumed the payment, but after he made a stable peace with Persia in 591, he led his forces against the Avars. For the rest of the decade, the Roman forces pressed the Avars back and finally negotiated a settlement that sent them north of the Danube with annual payments of gold. Maurice also campaigned against the Slavs, but these people, whose name comes from a cognate of “slave,” infiltrated the Balkans and Greece at the migrant peasant level and were more absorbed than defeated or controlled. Occasionally


they penetrated into Greece, ravaging the cities and carrying off captives. Around 585, Athens and Corinth were sacked by the Slavs, and Thessalonica was besieged but saved, it was reported, “by the miraculous intervention of their patron saint Demetrius.”121 Many Slavs remained and settled across the Greek peninsula, significantly altering the demography, and in due course, the ethnicity of Greece. Further west, the Lombards or Long-Beards (Langobardi), another of the Germanic tribes who dwelt in the Balkans (Pannonia), fled the pressure created by the Avars. Soon after the death of Justinian, they took advantage of the weakened Western empire and invaded Italy. Justin II had recalled Narses in 568, but the nonagenarian general ignored the summons, and from his retirement in Italy, merely watched the Lombards take control. The Lombards, however, had no strong political organization, and the Byzantine emperors seem to have played one group off another until the threat from the Franks in 584 required stability in Italy. The Lombard princes then elected a king, Authari, and gave him sufficient land to unite them into a loose kingdom. He was succeeded in 590 by Agilulf, who defended the Lombards until the wars ceased in 605. Thereafter they reverted to essentially independent duchies under the nominal control of Constantinople. The Lombards were nominally Arian Christians, certainly among the leaders, though many peasants probably remained pagan.122 The military campaigns of Maurice drained the imperial treasury, and twice he reduced payment to the troops. In 602, the army in Thrace, after being forced to spend a harsh winter in the field, mutinied and raised up a centurion named Phocas as their choice of emperor. This act of defiance spurred other players to become involved: Germanus, whose daughter had married Theodosius, the son and heir apparent of Maurice, as well as the populist circus factions in Constantinople. When Phocas marched on Constantinople, Maurice attempted to engage the Greens and the Blues to defend the city. But the people at large rioted against the emperor and offered to support Germanus if he took control. In the thick of the riots, neither Germanus nor Maurice had sufficient forces to quiet the crowds, and both men fled the city. Phocas was then greeted by the mobs, led by the Greens and the Blues, and crowned emperor in the church of John the Baptist. Maurice and his sons were captured and killed, and their bodies were thrown into the sea while the throngs watched. The head of Maurice was put up on display for the troops outside the city. Theodosius, the heir apparent, fled as far as Nicaea, and then rumors spread, both of his execution and his escape to the court of Khusrau II.

27.1.2 Persian Empire The long and stable reign of Khusrau I Anushirvan is remembered as a golden age in Persian history. He became so great a legend that finding the Khusrau of history is difficult. He did build many cities and restored canals and roads and walls. He encouraged intellectual pursuits and set up his own small academy at Gunde-Shapur. Books in Sanskrit and Greek were translated into Middle Persian and preserved by Islamic culture. Chess, or Chaturanga, the game of armies and


kings, is thought to have been introduced from India at this time. Khusrau gave refuge to the last of the Hellenistic philosophers from the Academy of Athens after its closure. The tolerance of Khusrau encouraged Jews and Christians toward loyalty. At the same time, he reversed the communalism of the Mazdakites, so that Persian society returned to its formerly strict class structure, made all the more rigid by the state religion. The traditional aristocracy reabsorbed the bulk of the empire’s wealth, and the peasants suffered. By the time of his death in 579, his empire was already cracking at the base. Hurmazd IV (579–590) succeeded his father peacefully. He was the son of Khursau I by his Turkish wife who came to him in the peace treaty with the Turks. But after a decade, when he fired his popular general Bahram Chobin, the country was plunged into civil war. The Persian nobles deposed Hurmazd and placed his son, Khusrau II Parwez on the throne. Bahram, however, desired the kingship and advanced on the capital Ctesiphon. Khusrau Parwez soon realized he had not the military strength to defeat Bahram, and he fled to Byzantium, where he sought refuge and support from the emperor Maurice. Bahram also sent a delegation to Constantinople seeking recognition of his kingship. Both claimants to the Persian throne promised to return cities and lands to Maurice for his support. Khusrau II had the advantage of dynastic legitimacy, and after some deliberation and misgiving by the imperial court, Maurice gave Khusrau the nod. Maurice released all Persian prisoners of war and gave them to Khusrau for an army. The following year, a Byzantine army marched out under the leadership of Narses to support Khusrau’s bid for the throne, while another descended from Armenia. Walled cities took sides, and the important city of Nisibis went over to Khusrau. Bahram, legends tells us, fought bravely and brilliantly, but his smaller army could not withstand the allied forces against him. He retreated to Azerbaijan, and after a decisive defeat there, fled to the Turks, where he was soon assassinated. Khusrau II, surrounded by a Roman bodyguard, took back his throne and ceded the promised territories to Maurice in a peace treaty of 591. The two empires entered into close relations over the next decade. Khusrau enhanced his esteem among Christians by taking in marriage two Christian wives, and he recognized his Christian population by contributing to the welfare of their churches. To the south, however, Khusrau captured Nu’man, the Nestorian Christian king of the Lakhmid Arabs, and imprisoned him. The reason for this falling out is not clear, but the effect undermined the security of the empire’s southern flank. The Lakhmid kingdom had controlled the disparate Arab and Bedouin tribes in eastern Arabia, and without their influence, the Arabs were at liberty to raid the Euphrates basin, and in due course, unite against Persia. Soon after, the large Arab tribe of Bakr, joined by other Arab tribes, met the army of Khusrau with his Arab allies in the famous battle of Dhu Qar. The united Arabian tribes soundly defeated the Sasanian forces, and the gate of the south was flung open. Khusrau, however, like his Byzantine counterpart, did not realize the potential threat gathering strength in the Arabian peninsula, as the Arab tribes discovered a new strength if they fought together.


27.2 Christians The condition of the western lands of Justinian’s collapsed empire may be summed up by the condition of the once great city of Rome, now but the shell of its former glory, reduced to a provincial town. Wars and pestilence had devastated Italy. The new exarch (viceroy), Romanus, appointed by Maurice, held military and civil power, but the power was reduced to that of self-preservation. In this generation, the Catholic Church assumed a position of leadership among the loose confederation of barbarian kingdoms that would dominate the West for the next millennium. The mantle of authority fell on the shoulders of a monk, Gregory, who received in due course the honorary title of “the Great”; and upon his death, he was swiftly canonized by popular acclamation.

27.2.1 The Papal Throne of Gregory I Gregory, the son of a Roman senator, entered civil service and became the urban prefect of Rome in his early thirties. After 2 years, he abandoned a political career and followed his call to monasticism. His inheritance included a palace at Caelian Hill, which he converted into the monastery of Saint Andrew. He devoted the rest of his estate to found six additional monasteries in Sicily. The gifted monk, however, could not avoid ecclesiastical administration. Pope Benedict (577–79) made him a deacon in Rome, and Pope Pelagius II (579–590) sent him to Constantinople as apocrisiary (papal representative), a post he held for 6 years. Having completed this duty, he returned to his monastery in Rome. But he was a marked man. When Pelagius II died in 590, Maurice nominated Gregory to succeed him. Against his desires, Gregory accepted the papacy (590–604). In a letter to his friend John, patriarch of Constantinople, he warmly complained: If the virtue of charity consists in the love of one’s neighbor, and we are commanded to love our neighbors as ourselves, how is it that your Blessedness does not love me even as yourself? For I know with what ardor, with what anxiety, you wished to fly from the burden of the episcopate; and yet you made no opposition to this same burden of the episcopate being imposed on me. It is evident, then, that you do not love me as yourself, seeing that you have wished me to take on myself that load which you were unwilling should be imposed on you. But since I, unworthy and weak, have taken charge of an old and grievously shattered ship (for on all sides the waves enter, and the planks, battered by a daily and violent storm, sound of shipwreck), I beseech thee by Almighty God to stretch out the hand of thy prayer to me in this my danger, since thou canst pray the more strenuously as thou standest further removed from the confusion of the tribulations which we suffer in this land.123

The reluctant bishop of Rome nevertheless took up his onerous obligations, determined to remain a servant of Christ, and therefore a pope for the people. He immediately set about alleviating the plight of the poor and refugees, including 3000 nuns, who suffered from the attacks of the Lombards. In 593, the Lombards besieged Rome. The exarch in Ravenna would not spare troops for its defense, so Gregory, who watched his people maimed and led off in chains to slavery, raised 500


pounds of gold to buy off Agiluf. Gregory was left to act as the defender of Rome. Thereafter, the people turned to the papal throne for salvation, both in this world and the world to come. They called him “God’s consul.”124 In all this Gregory was forced to deal with an antagonistic exarch and the usual graft that defiles a ruling hierarchy. In Gaul, the office of bishop required a hefty gift to the local prince in gratitude, and nothing could be accomplished in Ravenna or Constantinople without bribes. His asceticism endeared him neither to the Roman clergy nor the aristocracy, but across Italy and further afield, he was loved. Many estates were left to the church under his care, and Gregory found that much of his time involved the administration of wealth as the church, like the Jerusalem temple of old, became a central bank. He believed the wealth of the church, the patrimony of Peter, was to be at the disposal of the poor, in a more literal rendering of “feed my sheep.” Without quite realizing it, Gregory was laying the foundations for the later Papal States. He also promoted monasticism as the church’s best mission to the people and granted monasteries certain privileges that lessened the control bishops might exert on them. Gregory felt obliged to seek unity of the church. Unity, however, did not mean liturgical uniformity, and he allowed for variety of local customs. Nor did he attempt to force Arian Lombards into the Catholic fold. He sought to win them over; for persuasion, not coercion, was to be the way of the church. He promoted the veneration of relics, both from personal devotion and as the means of unifying the illiterate masses to the Christian faith. Relics and icons were the poor man’s Bible. Gregory had a heart for the evangelization of Britain, a land that had largely returned to paganism during its dark age (late fifth to sixth century). He may have been spurred on by news that King Ethelbert of Kent was ripe for conversion. Ethelbert had taken to wife Bertha, a great-granddaughter of the Catholic Clovis, king of the Franks, and she brought her personal clergy to his kingdom and was given the old church at Canterbury as a center of worship. Gregory dispatched Augustine, the prior of Saint Andrew’s Monastery in Rome, to reestablish the church among the Angli. Augustine had misgivings about the mission, but Gregory would not hear of them. In the spring of 597, King Ethelbert cordially received Augustine, and within a short time, the king himself accepted Christianity. It was a tribal conversion, and 10,000 baptisms followed. Initially Gregory sought to have all pagan shrines destroyed, but later he thought better of it and simply made them Christian chapels. It was there, among the Saxons, that the paschal celebration of the Lord’s resurrection came to be called Easter, after the spring festival of their goddess Eastre.125 In his dealings with Jews, Gregory insisted on his policy of persuasion, not coercion. Throughout his papacy, he had recourse to require justice for Jewish citizens and protection for their religious freedom, such as it was, under the law. In a letter to Victor, bishop of Palermo, Gregory laid down the legal argument that would become a standard introduction of church statements favorable to the Jews: Just as the Jews should not have the freedom to presume anything in their synagogues beyond what is permitted by law, in the same way, they should not suffer any prejudice in those matters that were granted them.126


Elsewhere, he admonished a bishop: It is necessary to join to the unity of the faith people who differ from the Christian religion through gentleness, friendliness, exhortation, and persuasion lest those whom the suavity of preaching and the anticipatory terror of the future judge might have attracted into believing should be repelled by threats and terrors. It is appropriate, therefore, that they should convene benignly to listen to the word of God from you rather than be terrorized by exaggerated harshness.127

His methods of persuasion, however, went beyond mere exhortation. He regularly directed bishops to offer monetary compensation to Jews who wished to convert. In places where Jews had settled on church estates, he instructed the bishops to offer a reduction in rent to those who wished to become Christians, “in order that while they are attracted by this favor, the others, too, shall come up with such a desire.”128 He realized that converts made though financial inducement might be less than sincere, but he justified it on the grounds that the next generation would be baptized and instructed in the faith.129

27.2.2 Syrian Orthodox Church The revival of Monophysite theology was spreading in the Syrian East. Several Monophysite missionaries of this generation became the founders of the Syrian Orthodox Church. The new movement was largely comprised of monks and rural Syrian Christians.130 The cities were ruled by Chalcedonian bishops. Because the movement spread across the border between Rome and Persia, the church hierarchy found itself a single Christianity of two empires, at odds with Persian Nestorian Christians and Roman Chalcedonian Christians. Around 568, the new emperor Justin II made his obligatory effort at ecclesiastical unity. He arranged a meeting between the patrician John and representatives of the Monophysites in the monastery at Mar Zakai in Callinicum on the Euphrates. The goal was reconciliation; the obstacle the Council of Chalcedon. But the many monks who attended the parlay were more of a mood for martyrdom than compromise, and even Jacob Bardaeus could not soften them. In 571, Justin issued an edict, known as the “second Henotikon.” The edict opened with the words “ ‘My peace I give to you,’ says the Lord Christ, our very God. ‘My peace I leave to you,’ he also proclaims to all mankind.” The nature of Christ, the Word-God, is laid out in such a way that if two natures are confessed, they are united as “one Son, one person, one subsistence, both God and man together.” The edict ended with an appeal for unity: Accordingly, while the right doctrines which have been delivered to us by the holy fathers are being thus proclaimed, we exhort you all to gather into one and the same Catholic and Apostolic Church, or rather we even entreat you; for though possessed of imperial supremacy, we do not decline the use of such a term, in behalf of the unanimity and union of all Christians, in the universal offering of one doxology to our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, and in abstinence for the future on the part of all from unnecessary disputes about persons and words—since the words lead to one true belief

A Papal Throne for Christians and Jews 641 and understanding—while the usage and form which has hitherto prevailed in the holy Catholic and Apostolic Church of God, remains for ever unshaken and unchanged.131

Initially, the leaders of each group found it satisfactory and shared communion, but because it did not denounce Chalcedon, the Monophysites as a whole rejected it, and their leaders recanted. Justin lost all patience and retaliated against their obstinacy. He imprisoned the Monophysite leaders in Constantinople and confiscated their churches. From the imperial point of view, the emperor could not be the political head of two churches of Christ, two people of God. The schism between the future Syrian Orthodox Church and the Chalcedonian Catholic Church was essentially complete. Maurice, a staunch Chalcedonian, inherited the stalemate left by Justin and Tiberius II. Rather than seek another formulaic compromise, he sustained the persecution of the leading Monophysites. Once he had gained control over Armenia from the negotiations to aid Khusrau, he sought, more diplomatically, to entice Armenia into the Chalcedonian fold. The Armenian catholicos would not be enticed, but the Armenian client kingdom of Iberia (Georgia) thought it an astute move and placed the land in communion with Constantinople. All the while, the Monophysites spread from Antioch to the Euphrates valley. Only the great cities remained Chalcedonian. In 599, Domitian, the bishop of Melitene and relative of Maurice, began seizing churches and monasteries of the Syrian Monophysites from the borders of Armenia to Mesopotamia for the Chalcedonians. Many leaders and monks fled to Egypt. A burning hatred flared among Monophysites throughout East Syria for all things Chalcedonian, thereby opening the eastern Syrian frontier to a Persian invasion upon the death of Maurice.

27.2.3 Persian Church of the East The Persian bishops deposed the catholicos Joseph in 567 and put forward Ezekiel, a former student of Mar Aba, and perhaps the bishop of Zabe.132 After a delay of 3 years, Khusrau I sanctioned the position. The patriarchate of Mar Ezekiel (570–582) was beset by plague and war, and little is known of his efforts to lead the church. During this time, there arose the ritual “rogation of the Ninevites,” special prayers and a three-day fast held three weeks before Lent, a ritual still observed by the Church of the East. Ezekiel witnessed the death of Khusrau in 579 and established good relations with Hurmazd IV. He went blind in his last years and died in 582. The next patriarch was Ishoyahb I of Arzun (582–96), another former student of Nisibis. Ishoyahb convened a synod in 585 to defend the true faith and define the regulation of the church. At this time, the theology of Theodore of Mopsuestia had been challenged by Henana, a leading scholar at the school of Nisibis. Henana accepted the Council of Chalcedon, preferred the teachings of John Chrysostom to Theodore, and may have been influenced by Monophysitism. The synod of Ishoyahb reaffirmed the theology of Theodore of Mopsuestia for the Church of the East and


insisted that John Chrysostom had admired Theodore. The synod also reaffirmed the autonomy of the catholicos, the Eastern patriarch, on equal foundation with patriarchs of Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, and Antioch. Because they did not recognize the Council of Chalcedon (451), which had made Jerusalem the fifth patriarchate, they put forward their own pentarchy of the universal church: Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, and the patriarchate of Seleucia-Ctesiphon. Ishoyahb retained excellent relations with Hurmazd IV. According to some sources, Hurmazd sent Ishoyahb as an emissary to Constantinople around 586, and Maurice received the Eastern patriarch with great honor. Ishoyahb submitted a written creed to the patriarchs John of Constantinople and Gregory of Antioch. They judged it to be without error, and for the first time since the Council of Ephesus (431), the Church of Rome and the Church of the East celebrated the Eucharist.133 Upon the death of Hurmazd in 590, and the subsequent power struggle between Bahram Chobin and Khusrau II, Ishoyahb tried to remain neutral, and he declined to participate in Khusrau’s appeal to Maurice. When Khusrau regained his throne in late 591, relations between Ishoyahb and the royal court deteriorated, so that Ishoyahb took refuge in Hira under the protection of the Arab king Numan III, who had recently converted to Christianity. But Ishoyahb soon died (ca. 596).134 Despite the miscalculation of the catholicos, the Christians as a whole supported Khusrau, and he remained benevolent to them. One of his Christian wives, Maria, described as of Roman descent (and later magnified as a daughter of Maurice), is said to have built a church and monastery near her palace.135 His favorite Christian wife, Shirin, was an Aramaean convert to Jacobite Christianity. In gratitude for a son Shirin bore him in 593, Khusrau sent gifts to the church of Saint Sergius, including a gold cross worn by Shirin. Both Shirin and a court physician, Gabriel, also a Jacobite, were able to influence Khusrau on Christian matters. While the bishops sought a new patriarch to succeed Ishoyahb, Shirin claimed to have dreamed she saw the bishop of Lashom, Sabrisho, standing next to her husband, and consequently, with the aid of Gabriel, she encouraged Khusrau to appoint the bishop of Lashom, Sabrisho, as the new patriarch. Sabrisho (596–604) was a capable diplomat and supported the shah in maintaining good relations with Maurice. The good relations between empires, however, soon turned sour with the fall of the Byzantine emperor.

27.3 Jews 27.3.1 Jews of Byzantine Rome and the West Justin II issued a law in 572 (Novel 144) that deprived Samaritans of all their rights of civilization: no inheritance, no military service, no courts, no education. The one exception was for peasants who could bequeath their land holdings so they might continue to be farmed and taxed. Toward the end of the reign of Justin II, or after Tiberius had begun to rule alone, in 578–579, the Samaritans of Palestine rose up in a final revolt, in which some Jews may have participated. The cause of the


revolt is not given, but it must have been economic and religious oppression. Once again, it was crushed without mercy. The general, Theophilus, “effectually reduced them to order, exterminating some and crucifying others, and destroying their property, and compelling them, by the severity of his measures, to submission.”136 According to the Chronicle of John the bishop of Nikiu, Maurice began his rule with Chalcedonian fervor. All official documents were to begin with the formula “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ our God and Savior.” The emperor’s brother, Domitian, took up the campaign and forcibly baptized Jews, Samaritans, and other heretics. They soon realized, as if de nouveau, that forced baptism did not change minds; it merely enrolled false Christians into the church. It also enrolled supporters of a Persian invasion and may explain the Jewish longing for Persian intervention in Palestine that grew over the next generation.137 Around 593, we are told by the late chronicle of Agapius of Menbidj, a Jew in Antioch rented a house from a Christian, and upon finding an icon of the Virgin, he urinated on it. When this sacrilege was discovered, the entire Jewish community had their heads shaved down the middle and were temporarily expelled.138 In the West, the letters of Pope Gregory open small windows to the Jewish communities across Italy, on Sicily, in Visigoth Spain, and in the kingdom of the Franks at Marseilles, Arles, and Narbonne. Jews lived among pagans and Christians of the Arian or Catholic persuasion in the towns and cities. Along with the pagans, they had to navigate a religious milieu hostile to them, occasionally defending themselves against a zealous clergyman. But they expected justice and made bold to request it from the pope when an injustice fell within his purview. The Jews at Terracina (Lazio) had been forced by the bishop to abandon their meeting place because it lay too close to a church for his tastes. They had begun meeting in a place allocated but were again forced to leave it. They appealed to Gregory, who ordered the bishop to restore the alternate worship site to the Jews. When the synagogue was restored, the Jews were restricted in their worship because the chanting of psalm singers disturbed the Christian church. The solution was to see if the sound could be muffled, and failing that, the Jews were to be given a new and equal place of worship. Gregory concluded, “We forbid that the said Hebrews be aggrieved or harassed, contrary to reason. But as they are permitted to live by the Roman laws, justice allows that they should manage their affairs as they see fit, without any obstruction.”139 It is clear that Gregory intended to protect Jewish citizens under the law of Arcadius in 398: “The Jews, who live under the Roman common law, shall address the courts in the usual way.”140 In Palermo, Sicily, the bishop had seized a synagogue and its guest chambers for church use. Gregory ordered the property returned, but when he learned that the bishop had already consecrated the synagogue as a church, an act that could not be undone, he required the bishop to pay for the property and restore the ornaments of the synagogue to the Jewish community, “for just as they are not allowed the freedom to do anything in their synagogues beyond what is decreed by law, in the same way no prejudice nor any loss should be inflicted on them contrary to justice and the order of equity.”141


When Jews of Naples complained to the pope that Christian clergy were preventing them from celebrating their festivals, Gregory inquired of the bishop, “why should we impose on the Jews regulations how they should celebrate their ceremonies if we could not win them by this?” He ordered the bishop to not disturb them; for “they should have complete freedom to observe and celebrate all their festivities and holidays, as they themselves until now—and their fathers since a long time ago—have kept and observed.”142 On another occasion, a recently baptized Jew of Cagliari, Sardinia, named Peter, zealously, if somewhat curiously, broke into the synagogue and deposited an image of Mary, a crucifix, and his white baptismal cloak, thereby rendering the synagogue unusable. The bishop decried the action but left the sacred items in place. The Jews again had to appeal to the pope. Gregory ordered the offending objects removed in keeping with the law.143 Jewish merchants who traveled often to the region of Massilia in Gaul found that Jews were being forcibly baptized and appealed to the pope. Gregory, though commending the bishop Theodore on his undoubted good intentions for the Lord, reminded him that baptism should only follow conviction, not compulsion.144 Several letters remind us that all human laws are subject to the natural law of supply and demand at all times and in all places. Two clerics of the church of Venafra (southern Italy), presumably in a simple fundraising effort, sold sacred vessels, including two silver chalices, to a Jewish merchant. According to an earlier law no longer extant, church vessels could not be sold to Jews, and Gregory ruled the vessels must be returned and the clerics must do penance.145 In Sicily, a certain Jew named Nasas plied the mystique and magic of Jews to wide-eyed Christians. He built an altar to the blessed Elijah and profited by the many Christians who came to adore it.146 Nasas also owned Christian slaves, but the governor of Sicily, upon payment, turned a blind eye. Likewise, the Frankish royalty permitted Jews to own Christian slaves, and a horrified pope wrote Queen Brunhild asking her to abolish this evil from her kingdom.147 But Gregory also had to reprimand his own clergy in various places who ignored the law and let Jews deal in Christian slaves. Many peasants, pagan or Christian, worked for Jews under the laws of slavery. For example, some Christian slaves in western Italy worked the estates of Jews and made a decent life of it. Enforcing the law against slave ownership in this case would leave them destitute, so the Christians were permitted to continue working the Jewish estates, but only as coloni (sharecroppers), paying a fixed rent.148 Because slave trade was legal across the empire, it thrived in Gaul, where various tribal clans raided others and took slaves, and Jewish merchants dominated the business. The main restriction was that Jews could not own Christians. It happened that a Jewish slave merchant named Basilius purchased a large number of slaves in Gaul, including some Christians, and brought them all to Italy. When his ownership of Christian slaves became known, he was charged with the unlawful purchase. Basilius protested that he had not known some slaves were Christians and appealed to the pope. Gregory accepted his testimony and laid down a rule for protecting Jewish slave merchants while transferring the Christian slaves to Christian owners


or emancipating them at fair market value.149 If a slave escaped and took refuge in a church, some officials required the slaves be returned to their Jewish masters or else be ransomed. Naturally, the law against Jewish ownership of Christians enticed many a slave to convert to Christianity, and this questionable conversion also had to be regulated, along with the rights of Jews to do business.150 A certain Christian patroness, Lady Abbess of the Monastery of Saint Stephen, converted a number of Jews near her estates in the territory of Agrigentum, Sicily, and requested Pope Gregory to send someone to instruct them in preparation for baptism. The Jews seeking to convert may have been spurred on by a plague raging at that time, for Gregory urged his emissary, Fantinus, to permit the supplicants to be baptized after the 40 days of penance and abstinence, without waiting until the Dominical Pascha, when most converts were baptized. He also instructed that anyone too poor to purchase a baptismal garment should be given one through church funds.151

27.3.2 Jews of Persia During the civil war between Bahram Chobin and Khusrau II in 590, the Persian Christians sided with Khusrau, who also enjoyed support from the Christian emperor, Maurice, while the Jews sided with the general Bahram Chobin, perhaps because he represented a break from the ruling dynasty, and Hurmazd IV, father of Khusrau II, had shut down their schools. But when Khusrau had conquered Persian Antioch (Antiochia Rumiyah) near Ctesiphon, his general Mahbod (Mebodes) called on the city to surrender those who had supported Bahram. They did so, including the Jews of the city. Theophylact Simocatta recounts the events that followed: On the sixth day he [Mahbod] condemned to death and killed with the sword many Jews who had been closely involved in Baram’s [Bahram] revolution. For the support which Baram had received from the Jews for his usurpation had not been inconsiderable. For at that time there was living in Persia a large number of said race, who had abundant wealth. For after the capture of Jerusalem by the emperor Vespasian and the burning of the temple, many of the Jews, shrinking from Roman might, migrated from Palestine to the Medes and returned to their primal nurse, when their forefather Abraham had in fact come. Then these people, by trading in valuables and journeying across the Red Sea, had through financial transactions invested themselves with great wealth. Hence they were most ready to slide towards the revolts and conflagrations of the people of Babylonia. For they are a wicked and most untrustworthy race, troubleloving and tyrannical, utterly forgetful of friendship, jealous and envious, most immutable and implacable in enmity.152

The retaliation massacre did not single out Jews as Jews, but as insurgents.153 Theophylact’s description of the Jews betrays a jealousy of their success in business but also en passant the importance of Jews in international trade at the end of the sixth century. The Jews, having backed the wrong contender, did not fare as well as Christians under Khusrau II, but neither were they persecuted. Khusrau knew that the Jews of


Byzantine Rome favored him in any conflict with their own empire, so it was to his advantage to keep all the Jews content. Our knowledge of the Jewish communities in Persia remains scant. The exilarchate was left unfilled for a generation between 520 and 550. According to a late and disputed tradition, Mar Zutra son of Zutra the exilarch went up to the land of Israel, where, because of his stature, he was made head of the Jewish community in Tiberias. According to other late traditions, Huna Mar was exilarch from 550 to 560. After him, Kafni (elsewhere, Ahunai), his son (560–581), held the office, but died in a persecution under Hurmazd IV. So also, according to later Karaite tradition, Haninai, who was exilarch from 581 to 589, perished in the Hurmazd persecutions, though it is likely he died at the hands of Khusrau II along with other Jewish aristocracy in response to their support of the Bahram Chobin rebellion. The main response of Khusrau may have been to withdraw his support of the exilarch, for it appears that from 590 to about 640, there was no dynastic exilarch.154

Chapter 28

The Last Great War in Antiquity and the Advent of Islam (602–640 c.e.)

28.1 Rome and Persia 28.1.1 Byzantine Empire The kingdom that Phocas had contrived to win by mobs and executions could only be secured, he thought, by a reign of terror. Phocas brutally suppressed local opposition. He revived public executions, perhaps to the delight of a bloodthirsty populace. Most of the officials were beheaded, but one, Elpidius, “had his tongue cut out and his four extremities removed; he was paraded on a stretcher and carried down to the sea; when his eyes had been gouged out, he was thrown into a skiff and burnt.”155 As if Phocas needed no administrators, he also dispensed with his best generals and gave command of his kingdom to nephews whom he could trust, but who were otherwise incompetent. The rule of Phocas was challenged from all sides. Riots occurred in cities throughout Asia Minor. The Lombards demanded control of more territory in Italy. The Avars demanded a greater payment of gold. In the East, Edessa refused recognition to the new emperor. Phocas laid siege to Edessa, and Khusrau came to its aid on the pretext of defending the honor of his old friend and benefactor, Maurice. According to Theophylact Simocatta, Theodosius, the son of Maurice and heir to the throne, was slain by the hand of a certain Alexander sent by Phocas. But word soon spread abroad that Alexander had been bribed by Germanus, the army commander of Maurice, and had killed someone who looked like Theodosius, while the true son of Maurice escaped to the court of Khusrau. The Persian king took the rumor and gave it life, and perhaps even a body in someone who passed for Theodosius. Roman commanders in the East, at any rate, believed it and opened their gates to Khusrau.156 Support from various quarters in the East, including the Roman commanders in Armenia, poured in to Khusrau. By 609, the key cities of Mesopotamia and Asia Minor were under the control of Persia. The loss of territory undermined all authority of Phocas, and appeals for rescue went out from Constantinople.


In distant Carthage, Heraclius the Elder, the exarch of Africa appointed by Maurice in 595, heard the call. But he had no intention of propping up Phocas. Already in 608, Heraclius the Elder had begun minting his own gold solidi as a symbol of defiance and hope to the rest of the empire. He soon took control of Alexandria, and with the help of the Green circus faction, cut off the grain supply to Constantinople. He then dispatched his son, also called Heraclius, leading a fleet to Constantinople. Along the way Hercalius the son gathered young men around his banner and made secret arrangements with supporters in Constantinople. When Heraclius sailed into Constantinople in 610, the partisans of the Greens rallied to his side and opened the harbors, while other senior officials deserted to his side. Two men of the court captured Phocas stark naked in his palace, bound him, and sent him in a skiff to Heraclius. The head and right arm of Phocas were removed and impaled on spear and sword, and thus paraded in the forum. The rest of his naked body was dragged around the streets of the city. On that same Monday, October 5, 610, Sergius, the patriarch of Constantinople, crowned Heraclius emperor. Some reports state that Heraclius refused the title and proposed another to the throne, but the senate and people prevailed upon him. Heraclius (610–641) married Fabia, who changed her name to Eudocia. She gave him a daughter in 611, and then a son in 612. The joy of an heir quickly turned bitter when the empress died a few months later. Within a year, Heraclius determined to marry his niece Martina, a move judged by the clergy as among his greatest follies. Martina, daughter of his sister, fell within the forbidden degrees of incest and could only bring divine displeasure, or at the least, the approbation of the church and the people. Although Patriarch Sergius was against the marriage, he eventually gave in and performed the ceremony. To no one’s surprise, the judgment of God was revealed in the deaths or birth defects of several children. Throughout his life, other reversals or disasters of earthquake and plague would be attributed to this unholy union. There is good reason to believe that Heraclius did not wish to be crowned emperor. It was one thing to capture a beleaguered city from an unpopular tyrant; it was quite another to govern the shell of an empire. And for the first decade of his reign, he could only weather the onslaught of enemies eager to gnaw at the carcass of the Roman Empire.

28.1.2 Persian Invasion The Persian forces of Khusrau Parwez had invaded Cappadocia in 609 and continued to campaign through Syria. Antioch and Apamea fell to the Persians in 610 just as Heraclius was crowned. When Christians fled the besieged Cappadocian capital of Caesarea in 611, the Jews opened its gates to the Persians. Emesa fell the same year, and the Persians took Damascus in 613. At this point, Heraclius led his makeshift army against Khusrau but was soundly defeated near Antioch—surely a sign of divine wrath, thought many Christians who denounced his incestuous marriage. Heraclius retreated north and left Syria to the Persians. Bands of Arab

The Last Great War in Antiquity and the Advent of Islam 649

raiders ravaged the lands between both empires and now ventured far into Syria laying waste to towns and villages. In 614, an earthquake seriously damaged Ephesus, another sign of apocalyptic woes. The Monophysites did not join the Persian invaders, as many Jewish communities did, but they welcomed a neutral pagan king as far better than a persecuting Christian king. Nor did Khusrau confuse his Christian subjects with the Christian enemy. During his campaigns in Roman Syria, Khusrau protected the Christians and replaced Chalcedonian bishops with Nestorian or Monophysite bishops who traveled with his army. Many of the Monophysite refugees in Egypt returned to their villages and monasteries, rejoicing that the dark Chalcedonian night had passed. The Nestorians of Persia were entirely loyal to Khusrau. At the synod of 612, they could offer up a prayer on behalf of Khusrau, supplicating the God of the universe to “affirm the throne of Your Majesty by extending your empire to the edges of the earth and for all generations of the world. Amen.”157 The Jews of Persia and Palestine, had they been permitted, would certainly have joined Christians in an ecumenical prayer for Shah-an-shah Khusrau. The Persians, says Antiochus Strategos, were eager to possess Jerusalem “because they knew that that city was a refuge of all Christians and a fortress of their dominion.”158

28.1.3 Fall of Jerusalem in 614 For the Jews of Palestine, the long-awaited day of the messiah from Persia had finally come. While the Persian army was still on the horizon, Jews and Samaritans organized themselves to aid the Persians. After taking Damascus, the Persians advanced southwest on Caesarea. The route led through the Galilean highlands, alongside Lake Hulda and the Sea of Galilee, territory dominated by Jews who gave them clear passage. It is assumed some formal agreement was made between the Persian general Shahrvaraz and the Jewish leaders in Tiberias, although the details of such a pact, if made, are not preserved. As Sebeos puts it: Then all the land of Palestine willingly submitted to subjection to the Persian king; especially the survivors of the race of Hebrews, rebelling against the Christians and embracing ancestral rancour, caused great harm among the multitude of the faithful. They went to them [the Persians] and made close union with them. At that time the army of the Persian king was encamped at Caesarea of Palestine; their general, called Razimiozan, that is Khoream, parleyed with Jerusalem that they should willingly submit and be left in peace and prosperity.159

Caesarea, the provincial capital, with no expectation of help from Constantinople, surrendered and gave the Persians a base for administrative operations. The inhabitants of Jerusalem also agreed to a peaceful surrender and received Persian officers to oversee the transfer of power. After some months, however, zealous young Christians of Jerusalem rose up and killed the Persian officers. Then they fought with the zealous Jews of the city, and by their greater numbers, killed many. The Jews who escaped went to Caesarea and appealed to Shahrvaraz for help.


Although the patriarch of Jerusalem, Zecharias, favored surrender, he stood helpless against the numerous monks and circus partisans that favored resistance. The Persians responded angrily to the breach of capitulation and laid siege to Jerusalem in April of 614. They destroyed some of the churches outside the walls, including the Gethsemane church in the valley of the Mount of Olives.160 After failed attempts with catapults, sappers dug a tunnel under the wall, propped up by wood timbers. When the timbers were burned, a portion of the wall collapsed. Jerusalem was captured between May 17 and 20. A 3-day slaughter ensued, in which thousands of Christians, men, women, and children caught in the streets or found hiding in the churches, were massacred. Strategos numbered the dead at 66,500 souls, but Sebeos gives a more realistic 17,000.161 Some 35,000 Christians, along with Patriarch Zacharias, were exiled to Persia. There, Zacharias recited the ancient Jewish lament: “By the water of Babylon we sat down . . . and wept.” One prize sought by the Persians was the relic of the True Cross. In the search for it, a number of monks were tortured and decapitated. Finally someone revealed the hiding place. The relic of the True Cross was taken as a trophy to Khusrau and placed in the treasury in Ctesiphon, perhaps kept safe by his Christian wife Shirin. The Christians who remained in Jerusalem, about 4500, were confined to an empty reservoir outside the city. According to the testimony of Antiochus Strategos, while many of the Christians died of privation in the heat, some Jews came and offered to ransom them if they renounced Christ and converted to Judaism. One can only imagine the irony in the minds of both the Jews and their Christian captives as the Jews turned the forced conversion upon their former persecutors. When none accepted the offer, we are told, some Jews “purchased Christians out of the reservoir; for they gave the Persians silver, and they bought a Christian and slew him like a sheep.” The account of their fate is suspect of later embellishment, but not wholly fabricated.162 The recent discovery of a mass grave of Christians near the Pool of Mamilla in Jerusalem has been dated to the war in 614.163 For 2 or 3 years it appears that Jews had functional control of Jerusalem. One source even suggests the Jews established a sanctuary area and renewed sacrifices.164 According to some accounts, this was a time of Jewish revenge, but in the carnage of war, there were opportunists as well as combatants, and Bedouin raiders joined in the lucrative chaos. Monasteries and convents were attacked, and thousands of monks slain, while others fled to Arabia and Egypt or hid in caves. Nuns were captured for rape and for ransom. After the conquest, we learn of one emissary ransoming a thousand nuns who had been taken from their convents.165 There are various reports that Christians, even monks, converted to Judaism because their victory in Jerusalem seemed to be from God. Khusrau now developed a two-pronged attack to take Constantinople in the north and Egypt in the south. The Jews of Palestine were given the responsibility of protecting the coast from a Byzantine invasion that could split the two Persian armies. An army of Jews attacked Ptolemais-Acre (Akko), and with the help of its Jewish residents, the city was soon taken.166 They slaughtered some residents, tortured one deacon, and burned the church and the bishop’s library.167


Probably at this time the Jewish army also attacked the city of Tyre. The people of Tyre took the precaution of imprisoning all the Jews to prevent them from aiding their compatriots outside the city wall. Therefore, although additional troops from Jerusalem and Damascus bolstered the Jewish army, they were unable to breach the defenses of Tyre. According to a later source, the Jews began destroying churches in the area. After a church was destroyed, the people of Tyre, probably the Christians, brought a hundred Jewish prisoners up to the top of the walls, beheaded them, and threw the heads down. In this manner of reprisal, 2000 Jews were slain, presumably in exchange for 20 churches destroyed. Finally, the army was dispersed by a surprise attack from the city. Thereafter, the Jewish army, which at its peak numbered only about 20,000, seems to have ended its engagements and returned home. The Persians, in their haste to conquer the Byzantine enemy, had not reckoned on the difficulties of governing Palestine, the home den of the two greatest religious factions in Mesopotamia: Jews and Christians. To antagonize either side would make ruling their new lands difficult, if not impossible. A delicate balance was required, but in the end, the Persians had no choice except to go with the overwhelming majority of Christians in Palestine. By 617, Jerusalem was taken from the Jews and returned to the Christians. While the Jewish community of Babylonia still had good relations with the Sasanians, there were now more Christians than Jews in Mesopotamia, and Christians had some influence in the royal court, most notably Khusrau’s wife, Shirin.

28.1.4 Last Great War of Antiquity A second Sasanian army under the command of Shahin pillaged Asia Minor without restraint. By 615, Shahin reached Chalcedon, just across the Bosporus strait, and camped. Heraclius himself approached the harbor of Chalcedon in a ship and offered gifts to Shahin, but the commander had no authority to make peace and requested a Roman embassy go to Khusrau. Because Khusrau had not recognized Heraclius, the senate of Constantinople sued for peace with Persia, sending as ambassadors the Praetorian prefect, the city prefect, and a prominent presbyter of the church. In their presentation to Khusrau, they blamed Phocas for the breakdown in good relations and appealed to the good will of the Persian monarch. We beg too of your clemency to consider Heraclius, our most pious emperor, as a true son, one who is eager to perform the service of your serenity in all things. For if you do this, you will procure a two-fold glory for yourselves, both in respect of your valor in war and in respect of your gift of peace. And hereafter we shall be in enjoyment of tranquility through your gifts, which will be remembered forever, receiving an opportunity to offer prayers to God for your long-lasting prosperity and keeping your benefaction free from oblivion for the eternal duration of the Roman state.168

The ambassadors were imprisoned, and the peace overture rejected. Khusrau had no intention of recognizing Heraclius as legitimate ruler, since he was winning the war on all fronts. Heraclius made the Persian response public knowledge, so the people knew that every effort at peace had been tried.


It soon became evident that Persia had lunged for the jugular of its eternal enemy. At some point in 615 Heraclius let it be known that he considered moving his administration to Africa, where he might regroup and prepare for the necessary wars. Whether he seriously considered the move or floated it as a ploy to shake up the city is uncertain. Nevertheless, the dire threat struck the heart of the city and prepared it for the necessary wartime sacrifices. Heraclius began by striking a new silver coin, the hexagram. The obverse displayed Heraclius and his son; the reverse carried a globe cruciger on steps, and the inscription Deus adiuta Romanis, “May God help the Romans.” He cut the pay of his administration and military by half. Still, he had not sufficient capital so he used a system of forced loans from wealthy individuals, and more significantly, from the church. Ornaments were stripped of their gold and silver. The churches gave without objection, they understood that unless the emperor succeeded, the wealth and decorations would go to their enemies. Heraclius used the funds to buy off the Avars in the West, to gain friends among the Christians in the East, and to mobilize a new army. Beyond the immediate requirements of realpolitik, he voiced his own religious devotion, at once genuine yet calculated to inspire the kingdom. Before them lay nothing less than a holy war against the Persian infidels. Theomachy, war between the gods, was as ancient as the hills, but the model developed during the reign of Heraclius has lent him the title of the first crusader. Prayers and religious fervor increased. Heraclius demonstrated his supplications before God in the hopes of raising the public morale. With the Patriarch Sergius, he brought the remains of Saint Theodore of Sykeon to burial in Constantinople and publically engaged in the ceremony. Meanwhile, the Persian army sacked Ancyra, Sardis, and Ephesus, while its navy occupied Cyprus in 617. The Sasanian army under Shahrvaraz invaded Egypt, and by 619 Alexandria fell after a bitter siege and much loss of life. At this point Persia controlled the Nile Valley as far as Syene. Throughout these years the Avars and Slavs had gained control of the broad stretch of land between the Adriatic and the Black Sea, most of the modern Balkans. They also penetrated into Greece. When the Egyptian grain supply was cut off, and with the Avars controlling the wheat fields of Thrace, famine set in. In such weakened condition, the plague again struck Constantinople, followed by more loss of life and more questioning of an implacable heaven. As 622 approached, it seemed also that the end was near. Khusrau launched a major offensive from the east while a large army of Avars, including Slavs, Gepids, Bulgars, and others, encroached from the west. On Sunday, April 4, 622, Heraclius celebrated the Dominical Pascha. He departed the next day across the Bosporos, and from there he sailed to a port in Bithynia. He marched into Asia Minor, where he organized his troops that had wintered in various locations. He then raised additional forces and began the process of training them into highly effective and mobile units. He favored infantry over cavalry, which required less baggage. He displayed before his troops the iconic image of the Man-God not made by human hands, an image of Christ discovered (or produced) at Edessa in the previous century.169 George of Pisidia, court poet and historian, preserves an address of Heraclius that no doubt sums up an often repeated message to his soldiers.

The Last Great War in Antiquity and the Advent of Islam 653 The possession and the manner of authority has joined me and you. For we exercise the advance of authority not so much by fear as by love. Against the unhuman violence that tyranny arms against the laws, my rule now introduces instead the compulsion of love of mankind and to oppose mine to others, which always requires well-constructed laws to those raised up in adversity. I so think in this way and form. But the common King and Lord of all and the leader of our armies is He [God] with Whom is the safest course of command in war, through Whom victory follows with deep piety. Believing in Him, I now take up arms with you for the task. It is necessary for us to march out against the enemy who worship idols, who mix blood sacrifices with polluted blood. Those are churches of human misery, contaminated with the worst sensual pleasures. They wish to cut out the grapevine of the sacred word with the barbarian sword. They are the ones about whom David divinely spoke out, saying “blessed is he who strikes down the sons of Persia and smashes them against the rocks” (Ps 136:9).170

Although the movements of Heraclius are unclear, he confronted a Persian army under Shahrvaraz somewhere in north central Asia Minor and after some clever maneuvering, defeated them in the autumn of 622.171 This greatly boosted the morale of his troops but represented only the first of three campaigns. A new advance of the Avars forced Heraclius to return to Constantinople, and he left his troops to winter again in Asia Minor. Heraclius hoped to buy off the Avars so that he could continue his campaign against Persia. He thought he had reached an understanding and arranged a meeting in Thrace outside the long walls. The Avars attempted to ambush him as he came to the parlay. Although Heraclius was nearly captured, he had taken some precaution, and by changing into common robes and hiding his crown under his arm, slipped back to the city. A reported 70,000 people were captured by the Avars outside the walls, and at this time, the robe of the Virgin, normally kept in the church of Balchernae outside the walls, was taken inside to Saint Sophia. Heraclius had little choice but to swallow his pride, and he finally secured a peace arrangement, which cost him 200,000 gold solidi. Even at that price, he knew the treaty would buy but little time. The years 624 to 630 marked a momentous reversal of Byzantine fortunes. Early on, Heraclius offered peace to Khusrau, who rejected it. Heraclius made public (and probably altered) the letter of Khusrau, in which Christ was reviled. But you claim to trust in your God. Why did he not save Caesarea and Jerusalem, and the great Alexandria from my hands? Do you not know that I have subjected to myself the sea and the dry land? So is it only Constantinople that I shall not be able to erase? However, I shall forgive you all your trespasses. Arise, take your wife and children and come here. I shall give you estates, vineyards, and olive trees, whereby you may make a living. And we shall look upon you with friendship. Let not your vain hope deceive you. For that Christ who was not able to save himself from the Jews—but they killed him by hanging him on a cross—how can the same save you from my hands? “For if you descend into the depths of the sea,” I shall stretch out my hand and seize you. And then you will see me in a manner you will not desire.172

Heraclius used this to inspire his people and army. The Persian offense was not to himself, but to God. On March 24, 624, Heraclius set out from Constantinople.


At Caesarea in Cappadocia he announced the response of Khusrau to his troops. He then advanced through Asia Minor to the Persian Armenia (Azerbaijan), gathering additional forces in friendly Christian lands. The Sasanians withdrew, and Heraclius attacked Ganzak (Takhti-Suleiman), where he destroyed the great fire temple, the symbolic religious center of the Sasanian Empire. He wintered in the Caucasian province of Albania near the Caspian Sea. The Sasanians counterattacked in 625 and threatened Heraclius, but he outmaneuvered them and fought a series of successful battles in the vicinity of Lake Van (eastern Turkey), then marched west to Martyropolis (Silvan) and crossed the Tigris River at Amida. The morale of the troops was high. Constantinople received messages of his victories. While Heraclius remained in Asia Minor, Constantinople was threatened by a combined, if not coordinated, attack of a Sasanian army from the south and a miscellany of barbarians from the north. Heraclius sent a small force to help defend the city. In midsummer, the Avars, fortified by Slavs, Bulgars, and Gepids numbering around 80,000, laid siege to Constantinople, defended by some 12,000. Patriarch Sergius solemnly carried the icon of the Virgin Mother around the city walls. Despite the siege engines, the barbarians lost many men and were unable to breach the walls. Various attempts by the Slavs to assault the city at the shoreline edge from their primitive canoes failed against the skiffs of the Byzantines. After the additional forces arrived, the Avars were persuaded to end the siege, and although the Sasanians remained in Chalcedon, ravaging the countryside, they posed no further threat to the city. Constantinople took heart in its victory against the combined foes. Heraclius had used espionage and diplomacy to weaken the defenses of Khusrau. He gained the important support of the Kök Turks, also known as the Khazars. The threat of attack by the Turks restricted the mobility of the Sasanians. In the winter of 627, Heraclius drove south into the heart of Mesopotamia with his Turk allies and defeated a Sasanian army near the ruins of ancient Nineveh. The battle was decisive but not a rout. Both armies remained on the field. The Romans watered their horses two arrowshot’s distance while the Persians watched over their fallen comrades until twilight, then camped in the hills. The Roman victory demoralized the army of Khusrau. Heraclius quickly marched south to Kirkuk and then captured the royal Sasanian palaces at Dastagard. He threatened the capital city of Ctesiphon but turned back at the eastern Nahrawan canal. No doubt aware of the disaster Julian had met in the same territory centuries earlier, he kept his path back to Armenia open. The pressure of his presence was sufficient to bring down Khusrau. In February 628, a conspiracy of palace officials arrested Khusrau, executed him, and placed his son Kavad Siroy on the throne. Heraclius camped in Ganzak at the foot of the Zagros Mountains. He made peace with the new Sasanian king, Siroy, and secured the release of all Byzantine prisoners in Persia, as well as the return of Roman lands. Over the next few months Heraclius sought to get all the Persian troops out of Byzantine territory, including Palestine, but the still powerful general Shahrvaraz, who controlled Egypt, refused to recognize the new king. According to an Arab source, Jews in various places did not want to return to Roman rule and refused to give up their lands to Heraclius.


In Edessa, the Jews supposedly insulted Heraclius and tried to convince the Persian troops to remain. When the Persians were finally persuaded to leave, the Roman soldiers entered the city and began massacring the Jews. One Jew escaped and appealed to Heraclius, who ordered a general amnesty for Jews. It is possible that, as the history of Sebeos recounts, many of the Jews departed for Arabia, summoned by the sons of Ishmael (Arabs) to join them because of their kinship as descendants of Abraham.173 King Siroy survived only 7 months and was replaced by his son Ardashir III in the autumn of 629. The succession crisis initiated the crumbling of empire and gave Heraclius increased influence, principally with Shahrvaraz. Upon learning of the death of Siroy, Heraclius offered Shahrvaraz assistance, which the Sasanian general accepted, and in turn he promised to restore all the lands taken from the Romans, as well as the relic of the True Cross. Heraclius entered Constantinople triumphant in 629. Theophanes describes his return: When the people of the city had learnt of his coming, all of them, with unrestrained eagerness, went out to meet him at Hiereia, together with the patriarch and the emperor Constantine, his son, holding olive branches and lights and acclaiming him with tears of joy. Coming forward, his son fell as his feet and embraced him, and they both shed tears on the ground. At the sight of this, all the people sent up to God hymns of thanksgiving. After receiving the emperor in this fashion, they entered the City dancing with joy.174

Shahrvaraz sent his son Niketas with the True Cross to Heraclius in October of 629. The following year, when Jerusalem had been vacated by the Persians and Roman rule restored, Hercalius himself took the True Cross to the Holy City, along with the lance and the sponge. On his journey, the emperor visited Tiberias in Galilee, where he received a delegation of Jews and promised them protection, though they had supported the Persian invasion. Heraclius stayed in the home of a wealthy Jew named Benjamin, who entertained the officers at his own expense. Some Christians accused Benjamin of having oppressed them. Heraclius asked the Jew why he had oppressed the Christians, and Benjamin replied simply, “Because they are enemies of my faith.”175 The incident is recounted by Theophanes because Benjamin was later persuaded by Heraclius to accept Christianity and was baptized in the home of a wealthy Christian in Neapolis. The emperor was not a vindictive man, and in response to the Jewish leaders of Tiberias, he pardoned the Jews for opposing his rule and gave an oath that he would not exact punishment on them.

28.1.5 Aftermath of the Great War After the death of Khusrau in 628, the Christians of Persia were given back all their former liberties, and the bishops elected a new patriarch, Ishoyahb II (628–643). In 630, he led a delegation to meet with Heraclius at Aleppo, while the emperor visited Syria. The purpose of the delegation may have been merely to announce the new ruler of Persia, Queen Boron, but the occasion served for a theological dialogue between Heraclius and Ishoyahb. After listening to the statement


of faith made by Ishoyahb, Heraclius declared it orthodox, and they celebrated a Eucharist. The moment, however, passed, and no further efforts at reconciliation came about. The Monophysite Christians made great strides in their organization after the war. The early successful campaigns of Khusrau into Roman Syria brought an influx of prisoners to Persia, most of whom were probably Monophysite Christians. Their increased numbers threatened the Nestorian majority. Around 629, Marutha of Takrit, a monk in the Monophysite Monastery of Saint Matthew (Mattai), was elected grand metropolitan of all Monophysite Christians in the Orient. On March 21, 630 (possibly 629), Heraclius, clothed in the modest robes of a penitent, entered Jerusalem through the Golden Gate carrying the life-giving Cross. This was the first time a Christian emperor had entered the Holy City. The sound of joy came in the weeping and wailing as tears flowed from the awesome fervor of their hearts.176 The head of the monastery of Saint Theodosius, Modestus, received the relic and verified that it had not been desecrated.177 “Exult, O Golgotha!” wrote the poet George of Pisidia, when the news of the restoration of the True Cross reached Constantinople.178 The entire city of Jerusalem required restoration, and Heraclius inspected the damages since the Persians had taken the city in 614. He gave money for the repair of buildings and may have prohibited Jews from settling in the vicinity. There had no doubt been Christian reprisals against the Jews when the Persians vacated, as some sources suggest, but it is unlikely that Heraclius sanctioned persecution of the Jews at this time. The monk Modestus had been made patriarch of Jerusalem, but he died soon after, and the Egyptian monk Sophronius was appointed patriarch in 634. After Heraclius had returned the relics of the True Cross to Jerusalem and found himself at the height of his popularity, he made the obligatory but futile attempt at reconciliation between the Monophysites and Chalcedonians. Once again, controlling the minds of people would prove more difficult than holding portions of the earth. During his campaign, Heraclius had met with many Persian Christians, both Jacobite and Nestorian, and came to some accommodation with them, perhaps in the hope of winning them to orthodoxy in the future. The Monophysites of Egypt had supported Heraclius in his bid for power against Phocas, and the emperor did not want them to regret their loyalty. During the Persian occupation of Egypt, in 623, the Monophysites had elected their own patriarch, Benjamin, who now ruled. Monophysite leaders, while meeting Hercalius in 624, had offered a formula that might satisfy all sides. The two natures of Christ were expressed in a single activity, or energy, hence the key phrase “monoenergism.” Heraclius submitted it to the patriarch of Constantinople, Sergius, who gave his blessing to the emperor. Politically, it was brilliant. The language of Cyril of Alexandria was preserved, and Chalcedon was not condemned. The new orthodox patriarch of Alexandria, Cyrus, used it to reconcile a vast number of Monophysites to the church of Constantinople, though he did not negotiate with Patriarch Benjamin, who opposed it. But the Chalcedonian monk Sophronius, recently installed patriarch of Jerusalem (634),


vehemently opposed it. Sergius sent the formula to Pope Honorius, who agreed they could speak of “one will.” Sergius revised the formula, using “one will” and this socalled Monotheletism (one thelēma) was published by the emperor in his famous statement of faith, the Ecthesis: the two natures of Christ were united in a single will. Two councils held at Constantinople in 638 and 639 accepted the Ecthesis. But what the councils had confirmed, neither the masses nor the papal successors would accept. Honorius died in 638, and the new pope, Severinus, rejected it, for which imperial recognition of his election was delayed until 640. Maximus the Confessor (ca. 580–662), a Greek theologian, wrote extensively against the doctrine, and even Heraclius disowned it before his death. Another matter was the presence of the Jews. In the aftermath of the long war, many Jews that had fled to Persia or sided with the Persians were returning and needed to be integrated back into the empire. It was a time of social instability. Christians were angry and often pointed to the disloyalty of the Jews. In one of his most controversial acts, Heraclius appears to have ordered the governor of Carthage to carry out forced baptism of Jews and Samaritans across North Africa. The act may have been in response to an African threat that included the conversion of numerous Berbers to Judaism, though our information is scant. The philosopher and theologian, Maximus the Confessor, decried the action that would only weaken the church and favor apostasy.179 Whatever the rationale of Heraclius may have been, the decree went largely ignored and left little trace in Jewish memory. A similar report that the Frankish King Dagobert complied with an imperial request to force Jewish baptisms is also suspect, though not impossible on a small scale. The pressure on Jews in Africa and Asia Minor and Palestine sent many off to Arabia, where some joined the Arabs, who at least recognized their status as offspring of Abraham.

28.2 Muhammad and the Rise of Muslims Sebeos, the Armenian historian, who lived to see the Muslims conquer his land in 640, wrote of the rise of Muhammad. His testimony is among the very earliest, written around 652. At this time a certain man from among those same sons of Ismael whose name was Mahmet, a merchant, as if by God’s command appeared to them as a preacher [and] the path of truth. He taught them to recognize the God of Abraham, especially because he was learned and informed in the history of Moses. Now because the command was from on high, as a single order they all came together in unity of religion. Abandoning their vain cults, they turned to the living God who had appeared to their father Abraham. So Mahmet legislated for them: not to eat carrion, not to drink wine, not to speak falsely, and not to engage in fornication. He said: “With an oath God promised this land to Abraham and his seed after him for ever. And he brought about as he promised during that time while he loved Israel. But now you are the sons of Abraham, and God is accomplishing his promise to Abraham and his seed for you. Love sincerely only the God of Abraham. No one will be able to resist you in battle, because God is with you.”180


28.2.1 Jews of Medina and Muhammad Jews were still strong in Arabia, especially in Yemen, even though they had been in decline since the reign of Dhu Nuwas, but also in the Hijaz, the northwestern territory of Arabia along the Red Sea, with Yathrib (Medina) at the southern end. Jews may have been the first to settle at the oasis of Yathrib. They had fully integrated themselves into Bedouin culture, including intermarriage, except for religion. They planted date palms and fruit trees and cultivated rice. They fashioned jewelry and forged light arms. Around Yathrib there were more than 20 Jewish tribes. The most prominent ones were the Banu (children of) Qurayzah, the Banu al-Nadhir, the Banu Qaynuqa, the Banu Thalabah, and the Banu Hadl. The Banu Qurayzah and the Banu al-Nadhir called themselves Kahinun (cohenim = priests), therefore claiming descent from Aaron. The Jewish population of Yathrib is estimated at between 36,000 and 42,000.181 Another prominent location of Jewish tribes was the Khaybar, a plateau some 90 miles north of Yathrib. When Muhammad began to assert his claims and authority, the B. al-Nadhir, B. Qurayzah, and B. Qaynuqa were among those who resisted him. They lacked, however, any effective political leadership. According to Muslim traditions, a certain Abdallah ibn Saura was a leading rabbi of Yathrib, a member of the Banu Thalabah, who often engaged Muhammad in theological debates. He is said to have invited Muhammad to become a Jew and thus was instrumental in the revelation of Surah 2.129: Our Lord, and raise up in them a Messenger from among them who shall recite to them Thy messages and teach them the Book and the Wisdom, and purify them. Surely Thou art the Mighty, the Wise.

The rabbi’s refusal to accept the authority of Muhammad may also have been the target of Surah 4.50: “See how they forge lies against Allah! And sufficient is this as a manifest sin.” In general, Jews and Christians regarded Muhammad as a poet, but one who merely rehashed, or “midrashed,” Jewish and Christian Scriptures and traditions. Some, however, were persuaded that Muhammad was a true prophet and converted to Islam. The most famous Jewish convert was Abdallah ibn Salam.182 Muhammad’s most dangerous opponents were the polytheistic Arab tribe, the Quraysh, who dwelt in Mecca. In September of 622, when Muhammad’s Muslims were persecuted and in great danger, the 73 Muslims of Yathrib offered Muhammad sanctuary. This migration is known as the Hijrah and marks the start of the Muslim calendar. Soon after, Yathrib became known as Medina, the City. Initially, many of the Jewish tribes of Medina entered into peaceful relations with the growing Muslim community. They signed an agreement, preserved in Ibn Hisham as “the covenant between the Muslims and the Medinians and with the Jews” in which Jews and Muslims would belong to the one ummah, the people of Allah. The unifying creed was simply the belief in one God. Jews and Muslims were to live by their own customs and their own religions and protect each other against common enemies.183 The battle of Badr in 624 was the first great victory of Muhammad in which his army of 314 Muslims defeated an army of 950 men of the Quryash tribe. The


victory and the subsequent growth of Muslims alarmed the Jews and pagan Arabs. Relations between the Jews and Muslims grew tense. Some historians related an initial quarrel. A Jewish goldsmith in the market did something to immodestly expose a female. A Muslim attacked the goldsmith and killed him. Several Jews then killed the Muslim. The Muslim’s family called on all Muslims to fight against the Jews. Whatever truth may lie behind the incident, in due course, relations between the B. Qaynuqa and the Muslims grew so precarious that Muhammad assembled the B. Qaynuqa to warn them. He said, “O Jews, beware lest Allah bring you the vengeance that he brought upon the Quraysh and become Muslims. You know that I am a prophet who has been sent—you will find that in your scriptures and God’s covenant with you.” The Jews replied, “O Muhammad, you seem to think that we are your people. Do not deceive yourself because you encountered a people with no knowledge of war and got the better of them; for by God if we fight you, you will find we are real men.”184 The Banu Qaynuqa were the first to break their agreement and confront Muhammad, who then laid siege to their forts. The two other powerful Jewish tribes did not help the B. Qaynuqa, and after 15 days, the Jews surrendered. It is usually thought that Muhammad expelled them from Medina, but the evidence is late, and it is more likely Muhammad merely took the weapons of the 700 B. Qaynuqa combatants and let them resume life in Medina.185 The following year, in the battle of Uhud (625), the Muslims suffered a serious defeat at the hands of the Meccan Quraysh in which 70 Muslims were killed. The Banu al-Nadhir are said to have alerted the Qurayshites to the weaknesses of the Muslims.186 Soon after, at Bir Ma‘unah, another 40 to 70 Muslims were massacred. The Muslims were severely weakened, and Muhammad sought to renew his alliance with the Jews. The Banu Qurayzah renewed their peace with Muhammad, but the Banu al-Nadhir did not. Muhammad forced them to surrender and deported them from Medina. The tribe departed with 600 camels, carrying everything they could, except their weapons, and settled among other Jews in Khaybar, north of Medina. The decisive battle of Ahzab (“the Trench”) was fought in 627. A confederation of tribes, B. Qurayzah (Jews), the Quraysh (Meccans), and the Ghatafan, besieged Medina.187 The Muslims dug a trench around Medina, which prevented a full attack, so the tribes laid siege to the city. The siege was as hard on the attackers as on the defending Muslims, for they too were unable to feed themselves over a long time. The Quraysh and Ghatafan finally gave up, possibly because they were ravished by a storm. The Muslims attacked the Banu Qurayzah and defeated them. According to tradition, 600 to 900 Qurayzah men were beheaded in the marketplace of Medina. The tradition, however, is fraught with inconsistencies, and the mass execution physically impossible. It is likely that about 20 leaders were beheaded, and the property of the tribe was distributed among the Muslims. The Jews were sold to other Jewish tribes for ransom.188 In 628 the Meccans made the Treaty of the Hudaybiyyah with Muslims. The Jews of Banu al-Nadhir sought allies among Arab tribes for an assault on Medina. Muhammad learned of the plans and attacked the Jews in the Khaybar region. Once again defeated, the Jews signed a negotiated treaty with Muhammad and renewed their alliance with the Muslims. As part of the treaty, the Jews gave up cattle, food,


and palms groves to the Muslims. According to the Treaty of the Hudaybiyyah, the Muslims were allowed to make a pilgrimage to Mecca in 629. The shahada was called out from the Ka‘bah. The next year, 630, the Muslims captured Mecca and purified the Ka‘bah. This was the Year of Deputations in which many Arab tribes accepted Islam. The conquest had begun.

28.2.2 Christians of Najran and Muhammad The only stronghold of Christians left in southern Arabia after the demise of the Ethiopian dynasty of Abraha was the city of Najran.189 Around 631, a delegation of 60 Najran Christians, most likely Nestorians, met with Muhammad at Medina and entered into a parlay concerning the authority of Islam and the beliefs of the Christians. The Muslim historian Ibn Hisham devotes several pages to the dialogue between three of the delegates and Muhammad. One of the Christian leaders, Abu Haritha, was already convinced that Muhammad was the prophet of God but was afraid to admit it because the Byzantine emperor would take away his wealth and position. The Christians gave arguments why Jesus is God, the Son of God, and a member of the Trinity. Muhammad felt a rage at the heresy but was restrained, we are told, by the angel Gabriel, who gave him the appropriate answers to the Christians, many of which are associated with Sura 3 Al Imran (although the year of its revelation is disputed). Accordingly, Muhammad refuted the claim that Jesus was God, or in any sense divine, yet granted that Jesus was born of the virgin Mary, a feat little different from the creation of Adam without mother or father, that Jesus had performed many miracles, and that he was taken by God up to heaven. The Christian delegation accepted the leadership of Muhammad, and they were allowed to celebrate Mass in his mosque. The Christians of Najran entered into a peaceful agreement with the Muslims that was to be honored by the Caliphs and left them in peace for at least two centuries.190

28.2.3 Muslim Conquest In the early years of the fourth decade of the seventh century, neither the Jews nor the Christians of the Byzantine Empire could fully appreciate the looming threat of the Arab tribes coalescing around an obscure prophet of the desert. The first clash between the Romans and Muslim Arabs occurred in the highland desert along the southeast of the Dead Sea in September of 629. The Romans were probably securing the area after the departure of the Persians and prior to the visit of Heraclius to Jerusalem. Heraclius must have been aware of the Arab tribes attempting to occupy terrain the Persians were vacating, but the unity and strength of the Arabs remained unknown, and initially of no serious threat. Theophanes records that when the Arabs defeated a small force of 300 Romans and Samaritan auxiliaries in southern Palestine in 631, an earthquake struck the land and an ominous sword-shaped comet appeared in the southern heavens that lasted for 30 days.191


Muhammad died in 632. The chronology of events following his death is drawn piecemeal from scattered sources, but it is reasonably clear that by 634, the Muslim Arabs had taken control of much of Palestine. On February 4, 634, a Roman commander led a small force of Christians, Jews, and Samaritans against the raiding Arabs about 12 miles east of Gaza. The Romans were defeated. The commander was killed along with about 4000 of the peasants, Christians, Jews, and Samaritans, and the Arabs ravaged the whole region.192 Patriarch Sophronius recounts in his Christmas sermon of 634 that the Saracens (Arabs) had taken over the surrounding countryside, even Bethlehem. Soon after, the relic of the True Cross was removed from Jerusalem and taken to Constantinople. Damascus fell to the Muslim Arabs in 635. By 636, Heraclius had assembled an army that included Christian Arab allies of the Ghassan tribe, who had long occupied the land now called Jordan, and other Christian Arabs from northern Mesopotamia. Heraclius was not present, and the commander of the Roman force is unknown, though possibly Theodore, the brother of Heraclius. The Roman force engaged the Muslim Arabs led by Umar at Yarmuk (Jabiya), probably in the territory of the modern Golan Heights. Umar outmaneuvered the Romans and on August 20, the Muslim Arabs won a decisive victory. The Muslims took few prisoners, and many Romans simply waited to have their throats slit. The battle of Yarmuk became the turning point for the Muslim expansion. Heraclius was unable to raise another army before the Arabs stormed Syria. All he could do was to retreat and tighten the defense of Asia Minor, which he did with the reputed famous words: “Farewell, O Syria, and what an excellent country this is for the enemy!”193 Persia fell in the following year, when the Muslim armies occupied the Sasanian capital of Ctesiphon, although Yazdgird III retreated eastward and fought on until 642, when the Persian army was extinguished. The swift victories of the Muslim Arabs may be attributed in large part to their cohesion under the banner of religion, rather than a single charismatic leader, but also to the exhaustion of both the Roman and Persian empires, beset on the frontiers by barbarians. The thousand-year-old giants, the Persian and Greco-Roman empires, had fought their last battle. Scarred and fatigued, they sought rest but were overwhelmed by the newly empowered riders of the crescent moon. Caliph Umar ibn al-Khattib (634–644) laid siege to Jerusalem in 638, and the city surrendered peacefully. Soon after the Arab occupation, Umar himself journeyed from Mecca to Jerusalem, where he sought out the temple mount of Solomon. In an act of humility, he came in soiled clothes, and the distraught patriarch Sophronius attempted to give the Caliph proper robes. They reached an agreement by which Umar donned the new robes until his own were washed, and then he entered the sacred pavement. The so-called Mosque of Umar, the Dome on the Rock, would be built later around 691 by the Caliph Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan.194 The Christians of Jerusalem were permitted to keep their property and were not forced to convert, though all would pay the poll tax. In the arrangement, Jews were excluded from the city, but they soon returned.195 We are told that Jews soon had a Jewish governor of Jerusalem for their community, and they built the foundations for a place of prayer around the place they thought was the Holy of Holies, in the


hopes of rebuilding the temple, but the Muslims, being jealous, took their foundations for themselves and built the Mosque of Al Aqsa, around 640–641. The Jews built another house nearby.196 That same year, Heraclius survived a plot against him and purged the rebels from Constantinople. He was weak and old, and the losses to the Muslims had undermined his authority. He elevated his son Heraklonas from the status of Caesar to Augustus. In December of 638, the aged Sergius, patriarch of Constantinople, died, and with him the staid ecclesiastical support Heraclius had relied on his entire reign. Within 3 years Heraclius went the way of all the earth, Egypt surrendered to the Muslims, and the transition from antiquity to the medieval age was complete.

Synthesis of Part Six

Jews and Christians IV (455–640 c.e.)

The christianization of the pagans in the Byzantine Empire was virtually complete by the end of the sixth century. The rabbinization of Jews was not far behind, though it is still difficult to trace prior to the coming of Islam. By the end of the fourth century, Rabbi Akiba is known to some church fathers in connection with scriptural exegesis. Ephiphanius twice mentions Akiba in his Panarion against heresies (ca. 374–377): “The Jews call the traditions of the elders ‘repetitions,’ and there are four of them. One is handed down in the name of Moses, a second in the name of Rabbi Aqiba as they call him, a third in the name of Adda or Judah, and a fourth in the name of the sons of Hasmoenaeus.”197 Writing shortly after the closure of the Palestinian Talmud, Epiphanius is at least familiar with the Akiba tradition, but otherwise he does not speak of a rabbinic movement, which we should expect if it dominated Palestine. Jerome, in his commentary on Isa 8:14, mentions the translator Aquila was a disciple of Akiba. He also knows from what the Nazoraeans have told him of “Shammai and Hillel, from whom originated the Scribes and the Pharisees,” and he mentions the Tannaim Meir, Johanan ben Zakkai, Eliezer, Telphon (Tarfon?), Jose the Galilean and Joshua. He does not call them rabbis and is confused about their succession, placing Ben Zakkai after Meir and all of them before the capture of Jerusalem. He knows that they have traditions and deuterōseis, repetitions, or Mishnah traditions, but he shows no familiarity with the contents except they serve to “defile the precepts of the Law.” Jerome’s knowledge of the rabbis is cursory, dependent on the Nazoraeans.198 Two centuries later, we find rabbinic influence in the imperial capital, fomenting some sort of dispute among the Jewish synagogue in Constantinople. “What they call Mishnah (deuterōsis) . . . we prohibit entirely, for it is not included among the Holy Books, nor was it handed down from above by the prophets, but it is an invention of men in their chatter, exclusively of earthly origin and having in it nothing of the divine.”199 Rabbinic influence is visible at this point in external sources but still contentious, and it is rejected by some or many Jews. Clergy, whether bishops or rabbis, sought to unify their people through conformity to beliefs and practices: Christians stressed beliefs; Jews stressed practices. Christian controversies in late antiquity are evident at every turn, but the synagogue dispute in Constantinople that instigated Justinian’s Novel 146 provides a brief glimpse of ongoing liturgical and theological controversies among Jews. Life


was normal. There is no reason to suppose Jews started thinking alike after the disappearance of the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes. Christians were perhaps unified by the distant Council of Nicaea and a growing devotion to the cult of Mary, Theotokos, God-bearer, but they were divided by the Council of Chalcedon and the theological divisions had assumed ethnic flesh and spoke in diverse tongues. Jews were visibly united by the orientation of their synagogues toward Jerusalem, their religious identity as a minority in all places, and a vast network of commerce. But their numbers had declined by half since the first century c.e., from more than 6 million to less than 3 million. From the Christian sources and archaeology, we know Jewish communities were to be found in cities throughout the Mediterranean basin and at the extremes of Roman and Persian civilization; from Spain in the west and Cologne in the northwest, to Tanais, northeast of the Black Sea; as far south as Yemen and Axum in Ethiopia; and across the north African coast. Everywhere, they had assimilated into the local culture, speaking the local languages and adopting local names. In Italy, the vast majority of names in the catacombs were in Latin or Greek. In Arabia, they spoke dialects of Arabic and bore names like Abdallah.

S6.1 Dispersion of Jews and Christians Christians of the Latin West, that is, Europe and North Africa, were almost unified as Chalcedonian Catholics. Pope Gregory I had served the truly papal role of unifying the faith. Arian Christianity had produced no great theologians and had become stagnant. There were newer fires ablaze that blended faith with fatherland. As the old barbarian territories romanized themselves into established kingdoms, they embraced the official Catholic faith of the Roman Empire. The pagan Franks of Gaul had steadily adopted Christianity since Clovis I, and the Merovingian dynasty was more than a century old. Into this Catholic kingdom, the remnants of the Arian Ostrogoths in southern Gaul were soon absorbed. The Lombards of Italy began their kingdom under the pagan Agilulf (590–616), but he married a Catholic woman, and their son, Adaloald, was baptized into his mother’s faith.200 The Visigoth rulers of Spain, the most tenacious of the Arians, converted en masse through King Reccared in 589 to the Catholic faith that had been held by the vast majority of the Hispano-Roman native population. King Swinthila (621–631), with the loyal support of the native population, ousted the Byzantine forces along the Mediterranean coast and secured the peninsula for its own Catholic kingdom. The defeated Arian Vandals in North Africa dissolved through intermarriage with the conquering Catholic Byzantine soldiers on the one hand and the rising Moors of Mauretania on the other. Jews dwelt throughout Gaul, especially in the cities of Metz, Paris, Poiters, Lyon, Agde, Narbonne, Arles, and Marseille. In Italy, Jews dwelt in Ravenna, Rome, Naples, Venusia, Tarentum, Tarracina; on the island of Sicily, in Messina, Palermo and Girgenti; and in Cagliari on Sardinia. Spain held large communities in Tarragona, Tortosa, and Seville, but Jews dwelt all over the peninsula. Archaeological

Jews and Christians IV 665

evidence in Italy suggests that Jews were also moving from the cities to towns and villages, lured perhaps by economic opportunities or to escape stronger anti-Jewish sentiment of the cities. Further east, Jews had spread through the Balkans, lived in the city of Salonae in Illyricum, and in Corinth and Thessalonika, Greece. In Britain, Augustine, the first archbishop of Canterbury, made strides in reviving the Catholic faith among the remnants of the Celtic Christians, though he was unable to convince them to abandon some of their traditions of discipline and practice at odds with the church of Rome or come into full communion with Rome. Nevertheless, in 604, Augustine established new bishops, Justus in Rochester to minister in the west, and Mellitus in London to serve the East Saxons. King Ethelbert (d. 616) earned a name for himself in English literature by issuing a law code on the basis of Roman law, which remains the first extant example of English prose.201 There is no hard evidence that Jews had moved into Britain, although Jerome includes Britain in a list of lands, Gaul, Spain, Italy, Africa, to where he claims Jews could be found.202 Jewish merchants from Gaul were likely in Britain during Roman times, and certainly before the immigration of 1066. In greater Palestine, more than 400 churches and 120 synagogues, of which 10 are thought to be Samaritan, have been uncovered.203 This is likely a fair indicator of the proportions of the population, reckoned around 1 million or higher at the close of the sixth century. The majority were Chalcedonian Christians, though other groups were to be found. Jews may have comprised up to 15 percent and dwelt mostly in Galilee, with their center in Tiberias. Surviving Samaritans huddled around Neapolitana (Nablus), and pagans of all sorts, including Arabs, dwelt here and there. Monasteries filled with truculent monks dominated the Judaean wilderness and were found elsewhere in the land. Christians of Egypt and the East were unified in their rejection of Chalcedonian Christianity, but differences of culture, language, and some theology separated them. Egypt, with a minority of Chalcedonian Melkites in the cities, mostly among the upper classes, was predominantly Monophysite. The population is estimated at 5 to 6 million, of which about 200,000 were of Greek descent, the rest native Egyptians. Egyptian ethnicity had played its part in the separation of Monophysite Christianity from the churches of Rome and Constantinople, just as African identity had fueled the Donatist African church generations before. Egyptian peasants and numerous monks had given birth to Egyptian Christianity, which in Greek, Aigyptios, transferred in Arabic to be called the qibt Christians, westernized as Copt, hence the Coptic Church. The Chalcedonian patriarch, John the Almsgiver (610–619), did much to retain a sense of Christian brotherhood during his patriarchate, but following his death, no successor was sent, and the Egyptians elected their own patriarch, Andronicus, and then Aba Benjamin (623–ca. 667) who managed the transfer to Islamic rule. Nubia and Ethiopia were Monophysite, with their own cultures and languages; both looked to Alexandria for leadership. The Christians in Arabia divided between Nestorians and Monophysites. The island of Darin in the Persian Gulf had a Nestorian bishop. The Monophysites dominated the western peninsula, including the Ghassanid Arabs in the north (modern Jordan).


Jews dwelt in small communities across Egypt, from Alexandria to Oxyrhynchus in the south. Jewish communities in North Africa (Numida and Mauritania) had swelled and could be found everywhere. Some had come as immigrants from Himyar after their subjugation by Christian Ethiopia, but many came from converts among the native Africans, later to be called Berbers by the Arabs, who applied the name—which may be derived from the Latin barbari for barbarian—to all Africans south and west of Egypt. The Berbers claimed Semitic ancestry and therefore found common culture and even language with the Jews. They had also found common cause to resist the Vandals and the Byzantines. It is possible that whole tribes had accepted a form of Judaism, as had been done in Arabia. A strong majority of the Christians in Roman Syria were Monophysite, and Armenia staunchly so. The patriarch of Antioch, Athanasius (597–630), helped reconcile schisms among Monophysites and retained their unity by granting the Jacobites in the Persian Empire their own leader in Mosul (Iraq). This allowed the Jacobites and all Monophysites in Persia to develop their independence from the Christians of Byzantine Rome and support the emerging Syrian Orthodox Church. The Nestorian Church of the East remained the official Christianity in Persia. Constantinople had a strong Jewish community, and Jews dwelt throughout Roman Syria: in Nicomedia, Gangra, and Sinope on the coast of the Black Sea; and resided north of the Black Sea in Panticapaeum, Phanagoria, and Tanais. In the east and south, they were found in Pergamum, Sardis, Ephesus, Aphrodisias, Side, Adana, Antioch, Aleppo, Edessa, Laodicea, and Damascus.204 The greatest concentration of Jews remained where they had begun, in the land between the Tigris and Euphrates, Mesopotamia and ancient Babylonia.

S6.2 Material Culture of Jews and Christians The material culture of Jews and Christians provides the hard data used to assess the claims of the mostly elite writers of the past from whose texts we write our own histories. The hard data, however, are often more ambiguous than the most convoluted ancient authors. What is particularly fascinating about Jewish and Christian culture is the extent to which it blended in with the local Hellenic culture in the early centuries, and then Jewish into the Christian culture of the later centuries. The fact is, as we saw in the arena of magic paraphernalia, Jews, Christians, Samaritans, and pagans often borrowed symbols from each other and enjoyed a common artistic expression. Everyone on the street conversed in a common language that included Greek and Roman mythology as part of a common heritage. The primary remains are synagogues and cemeteries, especially the catacombs.205 Constantine transformed the church by building basilicas across the empire. Until then, most church buildings had been converted houses, like the church at Dura Europos. Synagogues also began to flourish in the fourth century and continued well into the next century. In Ostia, the port city for Rome, a Jewish synagogue built in the first century was later renovated in the second and fourth centuries. The mosaic floors are devoid of Hellenic mythology, restricted to geometrical patterns


and the cup and loaf. Other engravings portray a large menorah with ethrog and lulav on the left and a shofar on the right. Around the time of the fourth-century renovations, Constantine built a basilica 500 meters from the synagogue for a sizeable Christian community that had a bishop at least since 313. The art decorum is similar in style, with the chief difference that where menorah and shofar grace the synagogue, in the church we find cross and fish. The record of synagogue construction across the empire demonstrates that the law in 423 against building new synagogues was not regularly enforced.206 The famous synagogue at Capernaum replaced an earlier structure around the start of the fifth century, and shortly thereafter, the octagonal church was built nearby over the structure believed to be the house of Peter. Undoubtedly the synagogue prospered from the Christian pilgrims that came to Capernaum and could visit the synagogue built by the Roman centurion whose beloved slave Jesus healed.207 The synagogue continued into the seventh century. The two mosaic artisans, Marianos and Hanina, who worked on the Beth Alpha synagogue, also decorated the floors of the nearby Samaritan synagogue of Beth Shean. Archaeologists also think a single group of artisans in Beth Shean worked on a synagogue, a Christian monastery, and the House of Leontios.208 Churches as well as pagan temples faced eastward, the rising sun, as had the Jerusalem temple. Synagogues outside Palestine, however, faced the Holy Land, and synagogues within Palestine generally faced Jerusalem, though there are a few exceptions. Otherwise, from the outside, it was often hard to distinguish between them. Rabbis took it for granted people could not tell one from the other.209 Architecture followed custom; the basilica style of churches, nave, auditorium, and apse, with flanking rooms for preparation, was adopted by synagogues, and there was little hesitation in borrowing artistic flourishes. But where churches tended to focus the service on the altar and apse area, where the bishop or presbyter ministered and the Eucharist was given, synagogues spread their service over several areas throughout the nave. The Torah ark was placed against the wall facing Jerusalem, the prayer leader stood before the ark, but the reading of Torah took place on the bima, a slightly raised platform in the center of the hall or at its front. A certain irony has been noted in that synagogues in Palestine were more free with the use of the zodiac on their mosaic floors than in the Diaspora, where it was rarely found.210 Burial of the dead was the primary religious ritual for a concentration of symbols. The Jewish catacombs of Rome, Monteverde, Vigna Randanini, and Villa Torlonia, in use from the third to the fifth centuries, have yielded the greatest concentration of artifacts. The inscriptions are mostly in Greek at 78 percent, and 21 percent in Latin, with a few in Hebrew. The predominance of Greek at a time when Christians were turning to Latin may suggest that the Jewish choice of Greek helped distinguish them from the Christians.211 Catacombs also point to a desire for separate burial sites, although most burials were in common cemeteries, not catacombs. Across the Roman Empire, from Sardinia to Edessa in Syria and Egra in northern Arabia, Jews, Christians, and pagans buried their dead in communal cemeteries, with due respect for the verdict, in death we are all one. A catacomb in Italy of more than 300 tombs is decorated by paintings with both biblical and pagan themes, juxtaposing the sacrifice of Isaac and the raising of Lazarus alongside


Hercules and the death of Admetus. The catacomb appears to have served a large family with Christian and pagan members. A cemetery at Beth Guvrin, south of Jerusalem, was used by Jews and Christians between the fourth and eighth centuries. For all the effort to separate Jews from Gentiles, the rabbis recognized their common humanity. A city in which Israelites and Gentiles live—the collectors of funds for the poor collect equally from Israelites and from Gentiles, for the sake of peace. They provide support for the poor of the Gentiles along with the poor of Israel for the sake of peace. They make a lament for, and bury, Gentile dead, for the sake of peace. They express condolences to Gentile mourners, for the sake of peace.212

The Talmud commentary adds, “and bury the poor of the heathen along with the dead of Israel.”213 The usual qualification of this statement, that the heathen were buried in different cemeteries is now known to be wrong, or if that is what the rabbis meant, then many Jewish communities ignored them. Literary sources report three cases of Christian martyrs buried by Jews in Jewish cemeteries, including the well-known Agricola and his slave Vitalis at Bologna, whose remains Ambrose was at pains to rescue. The Jewish community provided the bishop all necessary solemnity during the exhumation of the martyrs. Sarcophagi (bone boxes; lit. “flesh eaters”), produced in Jewish workshops and decorated with Jewish symbols such as the menorah, were used by Christians and Hellenes. Jewish glass workers made ornamental glassware also purchased by Christians and Hellenes, including devotees of Mithraism. Prior to Constantine, Christians chose both Jewish and Hellene artists for their sarcophagi, and only after Constantine do we see the emergence of Christian symbols. Likewise, Jews could order a sarcophagus from Hellene artisans with the standard pagan themes of the four seasons or cupids treading grapes and scratch or paint on their own menorah. In a grave of the Jewish Vigna Randanini catacomb, a skeleton was found with the glass paste head of Medusa on the breast and Jewish amulets nearby. Elsewhere Jewish amulets and a bronze cross share the same tomb. In one Christian catacomb in Rome, a gold glass (pieces of a larger glass object made of gold foil between two layers of glass) was found with a temple painted in the center, a menorah and two huts, which probably represent the booths of the Feast of Tabernacles. The scene is called “house of peace.”214 One interesting aspect of material culture that attached Jews to Christians was the growth of sacred relics and the establishment of sacred space in the Holy Land. After Constantine began to remake Jerusalem as a Christian city, and Helena’s discovery of the True Cross, relics became an institution of Christian worship, in which Jews were essential as the authenticators of Christian tradition.215 According to the more mature legend of the True Cross, it was Judah Cyriacus, a descendant kinsman of Saint Stephen, who revealed the burial place of the Cross and suggested the verification process of placing the Cross on a corpse, which then came to life. The legend notes that Judah had revealed the Cross against his will and that of his brethren, but afterwards, he was baptized and eventually became the bishop of Jerusalem.


In 415, a Christian presbyter named Lucianus announced that Gamaliel the Elder had come to him in a dream and told him to dig up the bones of Saint Stephen, which Gamaliel had buried in his property and left to the care of his grandson Nicodemus, who had come to Jesus by night (John 3). Lucianus described Gamaliel as a white-haired elder, dressed in a white robe embroidered with golden crosses, indicating as other traditions affirmed that Gamaliel had become a Christian. The bones of the first Christian martyr were translated to the Zion Church in Jerusalem to become a major relic of Christendom. Shortly thereafter, legend tells us, a leader of the Jews named Benjamin, imprisoned in Jerusalem, offered to reveal the location of remnants of the Lord’s mantle, which were in his possession, in exchange for his release. The keeper of the prison, Dorotheus, agreed. Benjamin produced two pieces of cloth, a small one from the tunic of Jesus, and a larger one from the mantle. Dorotheus took the pieces of cloth and placed them on a paralytic, who immediately stood up, thus confirming the relics were genuine. Upon his release from prison, Benjamin asked to be baptized. About the same time, according to another legend, two brothers on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land took shelter one night at the home of an elderly Jewish woman in a small Galilean village. While the brothers ate their evening meal, they noticed a light shining from a nearby room. The elderly Jewess identified herself as the keeper of the robe of the Virgin Mary, a treasure that had been secretly passed down in her family from one virgin to another over the generations. The brothers took precise measurements of the chest in which the robe was kept and had a duplicate made in Jerusalem. On their return visit to the village, they prayed to the Virgin Mary and received permission to take her robe (though we are not told the aged Jewess gave her permission). During the night, they exchanged the chests and brought the robe of the Virgin to Constantinople, where it was placed in a chest of silver and gold, and a basilica was built to house it. We can only speculate on the actual involvement of Jews in the production of relics and the identification of holy sites. It was later known that a robe of the Virgin could still be seen in Galilee. Regardless of any historical kernel, each of the discovery legends established the authenticity of the relics by the figure of a Jew. Although Christians had the keys to the kingdom, Jews still had the keys to the Holy Land.

S6.3 Judaism and Christianity as Religions The religions of Judaism and Christianity stand in reasonably defined contrast by the end of the sixth century, but the similarities, like vines intertwined, were equally striking. Because Christianity was far more syncretistic at the local level than one would guess from the theological treatises of the clergy, we may suppose the varieties of Judaism outside the spheres of rabbinic influence were syncretistic as well. Christianity had Jewish and “pagan” elements; Judaism had Christian and “pagan” elements. The practices and beliefs of Jews and Christians assumed cultural clothing wherever the people lived, and it was the constant effort of the leaders to purify the religious practice and belief of their communities. Besides the normal


cultural assimilation, the rites and liturgy of Jews and Christians retained regional distinctions that developed over time through a maze of social networks. There was, nevertheless, a cohesive body of beliefs and practices that allowed any Hellene or barbarian pagan to form a picture of Judaism or Christianity. First impressions would be that Judaism and Christianity were two versions of monotheism. Judaism was an increasingly restricted and officially despised minority. Christianity was the state religion of the Byzantine Empire and associated kingdoms. Jews stressed continuity with the biblical origins, especially obedience to the laws of the covenant. If necessary, Jews could point out that Jesus himself kept the laws of Torah. The fact that Jesus was circumcised did occupy some of the church fathers.216 Jews had the prestige of antiquity on their side, and perhaps even a greater solemnity in their worship. Christians stressed change, particularly the supersession of the new covenant and the fulfillment of ancient prophecies. They could argue a progressive revelation of God, from Abraham to Moses to Jesus. Christians had the advantage of not requiring observance of many archaic and burdensome laws. The attraction of ancient customs and continuity appealed to some minds more than others; likewise change and freedom from laws appealed to other minds. The advantage of religious conviction in the face of persecution and death, once the strength of Christianity, remained a strength of Judaism. Jews also had the advantage of remaining a more tight-knit community as a minority. On the other hand, Christianity had dominion on its side, the aura of Christendom.

S6.3.1 Initiation and Worship Entrance into the religion of Jews and Christians was similar. Both initiated the convert through the ritual of baptism or immersion. Christian baptism required a period of preparation and instruction, and a baptismal robe. The ceremony, performed differently over time and by location, was generally preceded by exorcism, in which the applicant renounced Satan and all his works. At infant baptisms, the parents or sponsors answered three set questions for the child. The bishop also anointed with oil and laid hands on the applicant. By the third century, the rabbis constructed a conversion ceremony that required witnesses. The ceremony for men had four steps: presentation and examination, instruction on the commandments, circumcision, immersion and further instruction. Women had a shorter ceremony, including presentation, immersion, and instruction.217 The extent to which the ceremony was actually practiced, however, depends on the influence of the rabbis, or it may have depended on how much Jews wished to formalize their conversion process in response to the formalized Christian conversion ceremony of baptism. Circumcision, the sine qua non of the Jewish male, had been transformed from a surgical procedure that could be performed by anyone, even a Gentile surgeon, into a religious ritual; one that if not performed properly was invalid and had to be redone. If a man already circumcised converted, for example an Arab, a modified ceremony was developed called the hatafat dam (“a drop of blood”), in which a few drops of blood were drawn from the male organ. This purely ritual act heightened


the religious significance of circumcision. The rabbis gradually developed a ritual ceremony for circumcision and a designated circumciser, the mohel, to perform the brit milah (“covenant of circumcision”). The blessing began: “Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us by your commandments and commanded us concerning circumcision.” The father of the son would add “. . . Who hast sanctified us by your commandments and commanded us to lead him into the covenant of our father Abraham.” If a proselyte was circumcised, the blessing included: “. . . Who has sanctified us by your commandments and commanded us to circumcise proselytes and to cause the drops of the blood of the covenant to flow from them, since but for the blood of the covenant heaven and earth would not endure, as it is said, If not my covenant by day and by night, I had not appointed the ordinances of heaven and earth (Jer 33:25).”218 Scholars have long noted that the circumcision ritual liturgy bears the marks of the struggle with Christianity; for much of the Talmudic discussion on circumcision occurs in conjunction with proselytes. Where Paul and his followers had argued the sign and seal of the covenant given to Abraham was as no longer relevant in the new covenant, replaced by the seal of faith, the rabbis said circumcision was the eternal sign, and the shed blood of the covenant of circumcision made atonement. In due course the word brit (covenant) by itself meant circumcision. The importance of the act of circumcision, often buttressed by the statement of the Lord to Israel, “In your blood, live” (Ezek 16:6), stressed the necessity of the deeds of the law for salvation in contrast to the mere confession of a creed in Christianity at the expense of deeds of the law.

S6.3.2 Liturgy and Holy Days The liturgy of Christian worship grew out of its Jewish origins. If it is true that Jewish culture of the fourth to sixth centuries was “repackaged Christianity,” as has been asserted, it may also be said that Christian liturgy was scarcely anything but repackaged Judaism with a messianic twist. Christianity in the East retained a stronger Jewish flavor than in the West, and as we saw, Jewish believers incorporated far more of Judaism than did Gentile Christians. Prayer in the synagogue during the early centuries was mainly extemporaneous, and as there were no Jewish models to lean upon, Christians followed suit. Jesus had given a model (not a liturgical formula) on how to pray, but stressed that prayer ought to be private, in one’s room, or alone in the hills, which he apparently exemplified during his ministry.219 In the fourth century, as the Christian population exploded and uniformity of worship was deemed essential, prayer grew more formalized, and the synagogue followed suit.220 The liturgy for both Jewish and Christian worship is now recognized to have begun at the lay level in all its spontaneity and progressed over the centuries to a formalized standard, yet always with a fair amount of local variety. The distinction between Saturday and Sunday as the designated holy seventh day was a matter of convention. Each religion honored a different seventh day. The sabbath was reckoned without regard to one day of the week over another based on


some universal astronomical standard begun at the creation of the world. Jewish sages had long ago determined that any day might be counted as the “seventh” and observed as a legitimate sabbath. For example, a Gentile who converts but has no idea what days of the Jewish week are, or a Jew taken prisoner by Gentiles, or one on a long journey, who forgets what day of the week it is, should simply designate a day as the sabbath and thereafter count days. Rav and Mar Samuel disagreed only on how to implement the count. Rav said a person should count six days and celebrate the sabbath, Samuel said one should immediately celebrate the sabbath and then count six days.221 They agreed that observance of a seventh day of rest after any six consecutive days fulfilled the requirement of divine law. Once a person became aware of the Jewish weekly count, of course, the conventional sabbath rest of God’s people should apply. The Jewish sabbath was marked by two ceremonies: the Kiddush (sanctification) blessing over wine greeted the sabbath, and the Havdalah (separation) ceremony concluded the sabbath.222 The Shema and Amidah had long been the central liturgy of the synagogue. During the Second Temple era and the early years of rabbinic tradition it had been the custom to recite the Decalogue after the Shema, but this was largely abandoned because it apparently brought a Christian (minim) charge that these were the only valid laws, which the daily recitation after the Shema proved.223 By the third century, the sages enumerate five liturgical activities of the synagogue that required a minyan, a quorum of ten Jewish men: recitation of the Shema with its blessings, the Amidah, the Aaronic blessing (Num 6:24–26), the reading of Torah, and of the Prophets.224 These may represent a basic sabbath service that became the norm of synagogues everywhere, as the trend toward liturgical formalization continued. In late antiquity a new form of synagogue liturgy in Palestine developed, the piyyut, derived from the Greek word for poetry (poiēma, or poiēsis), and the poet, a payyetan. The origin of this new liturgy is disputed. Some think it strictly an internal Jewish development, perhaps in reaction to rabbinic efforts to standardize the prayers. Others have concluded that the introduction of the piyyut at this time was the result of borrowing from Christian worship where such poetry was well established, and forms part of the Byzantine house of worship model. Ephraem Syrus pioneered the liturgical poetry, but a key influence in the liturgy may have been Narsai (d. ca. 503). The two theories are not strictly exclusive. The knowledge of Christian forms of worship may have inspired Jewish poets to challenge the old ways of the synagogue. The content of the piyyutim, however, is entirely Jewish, tied to the existing prayers and themes prominent in the contemporary midrashim.225 The central Christian ritual of the Eucharist undoubtedly had its Jewish roots in the liturgy of the Kiddush blessing of the sabbath, or the Passover meal. The Jewish Kiddush remained unchanged: “Blessed art Thou, King of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.” The earliest Christian blessing over the cup retained the strong Jewish origin: “We give Thee thanks, O our Father, for the holy vine of Thy son David, which Thou madest known unto us through Thy Son Jesus; Thine is the glory forever and ever.”226 During the fourth century, the Eucharist liturgy took on more of an instructional role to inform the ignorant throngs of the sacredness of


the religion they had accepted, and to remind them of the need to remain worthy of the sacrament. An itinerary of the Sunday service from the fourth century Apostolic Constitutions lists: readings from the Law and Prophets, the Epistles, Acts and the Gospels; the dismissal of catechumens and others unqualified to participate in the Eucharist; intersession prayers; the kiss of peace; washing of hands, and gifts brought to the altar; Eucharistic prayers; instructions and reception of the sacrament; concluding prayers, the dismissal and blessing. The dismissal, or “missa,” gave the word “mass” for the Eucharistic service. One of the more intriguing blessings common to Jewish and Christian liturgy arose from the angelic praise of God in Isaiah 6:3, “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” Early use is found in 1 Enoch 39:12–13 and Rev 4:8–11. It was enshrined in the Jewish “Sanctification of the Name,” the third of the Shemoneh Esreh (Eighteen Benedictions), eventually called the Kedushah (Qedushah “holiness”): “Thou art holy and Thy name is holy, and the holy ones praise Thee every day. Selah. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, the holy God.” The blessing emerged in Christianity as the Trisagion (“thrice holy”): “Holy God, Holy and strong, Holy and immortal, have mercy upon us.” By the fifth century, the Sanctus hymn of praise that began with “Holy, holy, holy” preceded the Eucharist. Jews followed the lunar calendar; Christians followed the solar calendar. In order to align the 354 day lunar year to the 365 and ¼ day solar year Jews intercalated the lunar year by adding every two or three years a thirteenth month between Adar and Nisan called Second Adar. One of the guidelines was to keep the spring equinox within the month of Nisan.227 Jews and Christians celebrated Pesach/Dominical Pascha and Shavuot/ Pentecost around the same time and according to their own emphases. The Feast of Shavuot was originally a harvest festival for the first barley and wheat crop, in which fresh bread was brought to the temple. The book of Jubilees had already associated Shavuot with the giving of Torah, and this was so recognized later in the Babylonian Talmud.228 In Christian tradition, the promised Holy Spirit descended on the nascent church at Pentecost (Acts 2:1–13). As a church celebration it was popularly known as Whitsunday, or simply Whitsun, and became the second greatest feast after the Dominical Pascha, and second in importance for baptisms. The high holy days of Rosh Ha-shanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot marked the start of the Jewish calendar with somber reflection, repentance, and joy. Celebration of the seven day harvest festival of Sukkot influenced the celebration of the Christian Epiphany, originally commemorating Jesus’ baptism, but later in the West, the appearance of the magi. The Jewish Yom Kippur with its 24 hour total fast and repentance may have influenced the Christian Lent, the forty day fast prior to Passover, which emerged rather suddenly in the fourth century. For those inclined toward fasting, Jews traditionally fasted on the market days of Monday and Thursday, although there was no practice of regular communal fasting, rather, as need arose. Christians, as early as the second century, fasted on Wednesday and Friday in an obvious attempt to be like and unlike the Jews.229 Asceticism had, over the centuries, become enshrined in Christian monasticism, and offered a stark contrast between Christianity and Judaism. Celibacy became a mark of Christian


spirituality, while Judaism and the rabbis favored marriage.230 An obvious irony is that ascetic communities had been the hallmark of Judaism in the first century, and many features of the Essenes or Therapeutae, and specifically the community of Qumran, had influenced the early Christians. John the Baptist and his disciples had come from the ascetic milieu of Jewish piety, while Jesus and his disciples had remained aloof from it. The festival of Christmas (dies natalis, birthday) was the main innovation of the Christian calendar. Birthday celebrations were not a part of traditional Jewish culture, though the Herodian royalty held celebrations in imitation of Hellenistic kings, and the Mishnah recognized this as a legitimate holiday to be respected; it was, however, a Gentile practice, and even Origen pointed out that in biblical tradition only sinners celebrated birthdays, not the saints.231 Later Gentiles had no such inhibitions. For them the kingship status of Jesus certainly qualified a commemoration of his birth, but choosing a date was a matter of speculation. Among the earliest suggestions, Clement of Alexandria (ca. 200) proposed May 20.232 Later in the third century, December 25 and January 6 emerged as the leading contenders. Apparently some Christian intellectuals had placed the conception of Jesus on March 25, and therefore his birth nine months later on December 25. Others proposed January 6 as the date of his birth in conjunction with the presumed date of his baptism (Epiphany), supported by the heavenly statement “this day I have begotten you” (Luke 3:22). Attempts to explain the origin are merely efforts to justify a received tradition of unknown ancestry. One suggestion is that the spring equinox (March 21) marks the first day of creation, and the conception of Jesus followed the day the sun was made, on the fourth day of creation (March 25). Others thought the conception date was chosen to match the supposed date of his crucifixion. Another elaborate scheme was based on the birth of John the Baptist, and the false assumption that his father Zechariah served in the temple as high priest on the Day of Atonement (autumn) when he was informed his wife Elizabeth would conceive, and six months later (spring), Mary conceived. Despite the obscure origins, the dates independently agree on a mid-winter season. In due course, the date of 25 December won out in the West. For Christians, it rivaled the Roman festival of Natalis Solis Invicti, the Birth of the Invincible Sun, established by Emperor Aurelian in 274. In the minds of many at the popular level, the god of the Christians was the same as Sol, the sun god, and after the accession of Constantine, the Roman festival was replaced by the Christian one, the birth of the Son of Righteousness. A calendar from around 336 gives the earliest evidence of the official celebration. From Rome it spread out to the rest of the empire. Scholars have argued with greater or lesser plausibility that the celebration grew out of a desire for a Christian feast similar to the festival of Sukkot with its green leafy boughs, or the Feast of Dedication (Hanukkah) which fell near the winter solstice, and was celebrated by lights. It is possible that the desire for a winter solstice festival influenced both Hanukkah and Christmas. The Hellenic festival of Saturnalia, which preceded the winter solstice, also influenced the celebration of Christmas and Hanukkah in the West. It was a right merry time for all.


S6.3.3 Exhortation The orientation of the houses of worship bespoke the essential distinction between the teachings of the synagogue and church: Torah and Christ. All that Torah did for Judaism Christ did for Christianity, and vice versa. The goal of Christianity and Judaism was to reconcile humanity to God, to restore the earth to its pristine condition of the Garden of Eden prior to the Fall of Adam and Eve. For Christians, Christ, the new Adam, had accomplished the reconciliation in his death and resurrection, and it was up to humanity to realize this. All things were made new, and the people of God now await the final act of restoration in the new heaven and new earth. For Jews, Torah was the divine instruction on how to be reconciled to God, and it demanded human obedience to the divine instruction. The demand for obedience implied a human ability to obey; a verdict that lay the onus of righteousness equally upon every human being. For Christians, the centrality of Christ implied divine initiative; God reconciled the world to himself in Christ. Without this divine initiative there was no reconciliation, and the necessity for the divine initiative led to the conclusion that mankind was helpless without it. For both Jews and Christians, election was a privileged status, granted by grace. Jews were born elect as members of God’s people, chosen of old by grace, and converts entered into the elect status. Christians were in some sense elect in the foreknowledge of God, elect in Christ, and “born again” into God’s new people as prophesied of old by God’s grace. Through God’s grace, Jews received Torah while Christians received the atonement of Christ. Final judgment, however, was based upon one’s deeds. The difference that may have been most evident to Hellenes was the Christian stress on thinking about God “just so” versus the Jewish stress on halakhah, obeying God “just so”; or as it is succinctly put in modern times, creed versus deed. Ever since Deutero-Isaiah declared the universal sovereignty of God, Jews were commissioned to be a light to the nations. It is not possible to produce a unified statement of the sages toward the acceptance of non-Jews as proselytes or righteous Gentiles, or even to categorically divide between those who favored or opposed proselytism. Over the centuries different Jews in different circumstances expressed their views. Judaism’s most inclusive approach to the conversion of all the Gentiles allowed that repentance and good works led to salvation; that is, a Hellene who turned from polytheism to worship the one true God and obeyed the Noachian laws as a guideline to a righteous life would become a righteous Gentile. Individual Christians might have qualified for righteous Gentile status in the eyes of many Jews, but Christian theology was susceptible to the charge of polytheism, and the leadership of the church was officially against God’s people, the Jews. Christianity, a movement based on proselytism, had a more unified view: repentance and acceptance of the vicarious atonement of Jesus Christ led to salvation, and thereafter a life of obedience to the divine moral code was the expected outcome. Jews saw themselves as a community bound by Torah, God’s elect community separated from the nations for his purpose, but salvation was open to all based on repentance and obedience. Christians distinguished between the universal church and the rest of humanity; the only righteous Gentiles were those within the church, God’s true


people, while all else were damned. From the Jewish vantage, most of humanity was indeed damned because it did not repent of its idolatry and obey the God of Israel. From the Christian vantage, all humanity was damned by the inherited sinfulness and guilt of Adam and Eve, from which repentance and baptism brought redemption. Within this broad scheme, many variations could be found among Jews and Christians, but neither would say that all religions offer an equal path to reconciliation with God. Ancient monotheism knew nothing of such modern ideas. Any notion of universal salvation meant universal repentance. The exegesis of a common Scripture provided an endless arena of interest and entertainment, both to the Hellene seeking monotheism as well as the congregations of synagogue and church. The new covenant prophecy of Jeremiah 31:31–34 naturally engaged the great theologians and biblical commentators of the church, but it was virtually ignored by the rabbis, to be found only in a few midrashim. The Church theologians stressed that both covenants are authored by the one God, who is the only lawgiver, and the New Covenant intended to do away with the ceremonial laws. For the Jewish preachers, the phrase “in their heart I will write it” simply meant Torah would not be forgotten, as indeed, the sages were a living reminder that Torah had not been forgotten. One sermon, however, declared the new covenant would be for the world to come, when Torah truly will not be forgotten by anyone; a tacit admission that the covenant Jeremiah had envisioned could not be sufficiently found in Judaism, much less Christianity, to be deemed fulfilled.233 Another important exegetical rivalry was the Akedah, the story of the “binding of Isaac” (Gen 22), one that Athanasius had noted was a point of dispute between Christians and Jews.234 During the Second Temple era various Jewish authors had begun to elevate the place of Isaac from his minor and passive biblical role to the archetype of the martyr, one who was prepared to give his life back to God for the greater good. Philo called Isaac a “son of God” and said that “God may with perfect truth be said to be Isaac’s father.”235 Christian theologians and rabbinic sages built upon Isaac’s prominence and apparently did so in awareness of each other. One issue was Isaac’s age when God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his only son. A defenseless child would have little say in the matter, so the self-sacrifice would be less than voluntary. Jewish tradition had already assumed Isaac had reached majority, and rabbis gave him the age variously between 26 and 37, clearly able to refuse, or even overpower, his father. Christians tended to portray Isaac as a child, still resting his head on Abraham’s shoulder, or an adolescent. Most importantly, Christians, for whom the biblical heroes were types prefiguring the advent of Jesus, saw Isaac as a model anticipating the suffering of Jesus. Some rabbis agreed on the association, Isaac was the suffering servant par excellence for the Jewish people. Rabbinic sermons portray Isaac as the willing martyr who is prepared to give up his life for his people, a counter-type to the sacrificial death. In one sermon, Isaac carries the wood for the burnt offering like “a man who carries his cross on his shoulder.” When Isaac asks his father about the lamb for the burnt offering, Abraham says, “You are the lamb.” Even with this foreknowledge of his impending death, Isaac pressed forward alongside Abraham; “one to slaughter and the other to be slaughtered.” As Abraham tried to bind Isaac, the son said to


the father, “bind me firmly,” for Isaac feared he might flinch in the final moment and because of a mere wound render himself unfit to be the perfect sacrifice. 236 Isaac’s willingness to sacrifice himself allowed rabbis to speak of the “blood of the binding of Isaac” and the “ashes of Isaac” from the anticipated burnt offering. His willingness was as good as the sacrifice itself.237 The thrust of the midrash on the Akedah is that Isaac had performed all that God required in self-sacrifice, the willingness to die; the death of Jesus, therefore, was nothing new, nothing unique. Isaac’s self-sacrifice brought the merit of the fathers to the people of Israel. The Christians emphasized that in fact, Isaac did not suffer, Christ suffered. Isaac’s willingness was meritorious, but only as part of the faith of Abraham to undertake the sacrifice. The event was but a foreshadowing of the reality to come. The Binding of Isaac provides one of the most decisive exegetical disputes between Jewish and Christian preachers that defined the two religions of synagogue and church in antiquity.

S6.4 Jews and Christians from the Church Canons Something of Jewish and Christian life under Christian kings and bishops in Europe may be gleaned from the canons of the church councils.238 Reading between the canonical lines is not without its dangers, since decrees are sometimes repeated without warrant, but canons dealing specifically with Jews were surely aimed at the Jews who continued to spread across Europe. As early as the Council of Elvira (ca. 306), Christians were prohibited from sharing meals with Jews, and landowners were warned “that they should not suffer that their fruits—which they receive with thanksgiving from God—shall be blessed by Jews, lest they make our blessing null and void” (Canon 49). In other early councils of the fourth century, canons consistently prohibit Christians from receiving unleavened bread, or other gifts, or participating in Jewish festivities. In 506, by authority of Alaric II, king of the Visigoths, Caesarius of Arles presided over a council of bishops in southern Gaul, from Toulouse to Bordeaux, held in the port city of Agde. The Council of Agde passed 71 canons, mostly dealing with church discipline and pastoral care. Two of them mentioned the Jewish communities. Canon 34 requires Jews who seek the benefit of Catholic law through conversion (but who “return to their vomit”) to remain 8 months as catechumens, time enough for the bishop to determine if the faith is real. If however, the catechumen falls gravely ill, he may be baptized. Canon 40 warns Christians to avoid table fellowship with Jews: All clerics and laymen should henceforth avoid the banquets of Jews, nor shall anyone receive them [Jews] to a banquet; as they do not consume food in common with Christians, it is shameful and sacrilegious for their food to be consumed by Christians; for what we consume—with the Apostle’s permission [1 Cor 10:25]—they would judge unclean, and thus the Catholics shall begin to be inferior to the Jews, if we should consume what they serve while they should despise what we offer.


This canon repeated an earlier canon of the Council of Vannes in 465, the first Frankish council to mention the Jews, with the addition of naming laymen as well as clerics. A council convened by Sigismund, king of the Burgundians, in 517 upon his conversion to the Catholic faith, added flogging to the punishment of junior clerics who joined the banquets of heretical clerics (Arians) and reminded every Christian that no one was permitted to banquet with the Jews, and any layman so defiled should not break bread with Catholic clergy (Canon 15). The warning would be repeated again at the Council of Orleans (533) and at the Council of Macon (581–583), demonstrating the enduring social intercourse, or its perceived threat, between Jews and Christians in Gaul, among leaders and laity alike. After the conquest of the Burgundian kingdom by Childebert I and Theodebert, the Clermont Council of 535 forbade intermarriage: If anyone should join the Jewish depravity in a conjugal union and if a Jewess should copulate carnally with a Christian or a Christian woman with a Jew, anyone of them known to have committed such a great wickedness should be segregated from Christian society and banquet as well as from the communion of the Church, whose enemies he had joined (Canon 6).

The prohibition was reissued at the Third Council of Orleans (538), after Childebert I and Theodebert annexed the Ostrogothic territories. The punishment is excommunication until a divorce has been settled. The Fourth Council of Orleans in 541 found it necessary to regulate the sanctuary given Christian slaves owned by Jews. If a Christian slave fled to a church, the Christian community could redeem him or her at fair market value. This law (Canon 30) applied to all Catholics in the entire Frankish kingdom. The council also decreed (Canon 31) that Jews may not proselytize, or marry a Christian bondwoman to a Jew, or offer a bondman liberty if he converted, for “it is unjust that liberty shall be the lot of a man born to Christian parents yet wishing to adhere to the Jewish cults.” A council in Macon (ca. 582), under the auspices of the king of Orleans, revived a number of old canons concerning the Jews. Jews were forbidden to serve as judges or tax collectors over a Christian population (Canon 13). During the four days before the Dominical Pascha, Jews were not allowed to stroll about in the streets or the forum (Canon 14). Canon 2 prohibits male clergy or laymen from dwelling in maiden monasteries, unless they are upright, very old, or have specific business, and in any case, they may not pass beyond the guest room. It adds, “Jews, in particular, shall not dare to have any secret conversation with the maidens consecrated to God within the monastery, be in close contact with them, or stay there for the purpose of any business transaction.” The Council of Narbonne in 589 forbade work on Sundays to all, “whether freeborn or slave, Goth, Roman, Syrian, Greek, or Jew.” The penalty for a freeborn was six solidi, and if a slave, 100 lashes (Canon 4). Equally comprehensive was the prohibition of employing the services of soothsayers, and the soothsayer, or anyone who performs divination, was to be flogged in public and sold into slavery (Canon 14).


The Council of Paris in 614 ruled that no Jew may exercise authority over Christians by assuming a public office, but if one did, he and his family would be baptized by the bishop of the city where he exercised his influence (Canon 17). In Spain, after the Arian King Reccared converted to Catholic Christianity, he convened the Third Council of Toledo in 589 comprised of native Catholic and formerly Arian Gothic bishops and began the Catholic rule of Visigothic Spain. The council reissued previous decrees that prohibited Jews from having Christian wives or concubines or purchasing a Christian slave for personal use as a concubine, and any sons produced from such forbidden unions were to be baptized. Jews were also prevented from taking public office that allowed them to inflict punishment on Christians. If a Christian slave is circumcised (as required by biblical law; Gen 17:27; Exod 12:44), the slave is set free without compensation (Canon 14). The Fourth Council of Toledo in 633, over which Isidore of Seville presided, had to deal with a novel situation in Catholic Spain. The forced baptism imposed on Jews by Sisebut (612–621) had created a number of crypto-Jews, and this required new canonical measures (Canon 57). On the Jews, however, thus did the Holy Synod order, that no one should henceforth be forced to believe, God hath mercy on whom he will and whom he will he hardeneth [Rom 9:18]; such men should not be saved unwillingly but willingly, in order that the procedure of justice should be complete; for just as man perished obedient to the serpent out of his own free will, so will any man be saved—when called by the divine grace—by believing and in converting his own mind. They should be persuaded to convert, therefore, of their own free choice, rather than forced by violence. Those, however, who were formerly forced to come to Christianity (as was done in the days of the most religious prince Sisebut), since it is clear that they have been associated in the divine sacraments, received the grace of baptism, were anointed with chrism, and partook of the body and blood of the Lord, it is proper that they should be forced to keep the faith even though they had undertaken it under duress, lest the name of the Lord be blasphemed and the faith they had undertaken be treated as vile and contemptible.

The Catholics, including clergy, had established a working relationship with the Jewish community and accepted gifts in lieu of a blind eye or outright support of “the perfidy of those who are known to be members of the Antichrist’s body.” All such actions are sacrilege, and anyone who helps the Jews will be anathematized and excommunicated from the Church Catholic (Canon 58). Some converted Jews were known to still be practicing Judaism, and the great blasphemy against Christ, circumcising their sons. Such Jews will be called to return to the church, but if they persist, circumcised sons will be removed from their parents, and slaves will be set at liberty (Canon 59). Children of converted Jews in all cases were to be entrusted to monasteries or God-fearing families and so raised in the faith (Canon 60). Children of lapsed Jewish converts were permitted to inherit, because a son should not suffer for the sin of his father (Exod 18:20; Canon 61). Converted Jews must no longer be associated with infidel Jews (Canon 62). Jews who marry Christian wives should convert or be separated from them; sons of such unions should be Christians (Canon 63). Lapsed converts may not give evidence in court (Canon 64), hold public office (Canon 65), or own Christian slaves (Canon 66).


We may gather from the canons that Jews and Christians intermarried, and therefore, if for no other reason, visited each community for dining, particularly on the holy days, as Jews and Gentile Christians had been doing since Peter and Paul. Even clergy joined in the Jewish banquets, which suggests that in some towns and villages, the desired restrictions between Jews and Christians were wholly ignored. That amorous Jewish men sneaked into the maiden monasteries should raise no eyebrows, and some of it had to do with business, but that it occurred so frequently as to require special mention in the church canon gives pause to wonder what controls, if any, the Jewish community exercised on such matters. It may indicate the stark absence of rabbinic influence in the West. The punishments for the offenses are still largely ecclesiastical, removal from communion, except where kings have lent their authority to free slaves or imposed other fines. Jews who aspired to public office accepted baptism, and we cannot assume the Jewish community shunned a convert or even frowned on him if they expected their new magistrate to benefit the Jewish community. Some Jews in the Diaspora had engaged in public office all along under the Roman emperors, with its requirements of idolatrous rituals, diet, and so forth. There was no particular reason to stop when the empire gave up polytheism for a heretical monotheism. Christians in Spain, and surely elsewhere, valued the blessings of their Jewish neighbors on the harvest fields. This belief coincides with the respect Christians gave Jewish healers and magicians at Antioch and everywhere. We may be certain that at the folklore level of life, Jews, Christians, and all pagans shared information and aid against the supernatural realm. Officials required to enforce restrictions on Jews were often willing to take hush money and let things move along. Bribes were ubiquitous, well established among Jews and Gentiles during the old Roman Empire, and business was business. It is certain that not all magistrates wished to implement the canons or the imperial laws within their jurisdictions, as demonstrated by the excommunication of Count Froga (ca. 603–614) by the bishop for protecting his Jews from the church.239 The canons give the impression that in daily life, under normal circumstances, the leaders were more concerned to separate the people than Jews and Christians desired to be separated.

S6.5 Christian “Dialogues” with Jews The monk John Moschos (ca. 550–620/634), in his collection of anecdotes, The Spiritual Meadow, wrote of having met a certain Cosmos, a scholar in Alexandria at the turn of the seventh century. Cosmos lived in solitary dwelling filled with books but few other possessions. Moschos relates of his time there in Alexandria: And each day I used to go in to him, and so in truth I never entered and did not find him either reading or composing against the Jews (kata Ioudaiōn). For he had much zeal for converting Hebrews to the truth. Therefore he often used to send me to some Hebrews in order that I might debate from Scripture with them, because he would not readily leave his house.240


Cosmos may be unusual, but if the description is accurate, it appears that many of the writings “against the Jews” were in the service of a mission to them, not an attack per se upon them. Insofar as Jews were interested in converting to Christianity, some of the works of Cosmos may have been composed for Jewish readers, not merely to arm Christians like Moschos for debate. Nevertheless, debates, and debate literature aimed at Jews, whether in tracts or dialogues, continued. The following three examples demonstrate its diversity.

S6.5.1 The Dialogue of Gregentius Archbishop of Taphar with Herban the Jew This dialogue purports to be a formal debate in the presence of the Himyarite king between the Archbishop Gregentius, a Latin clergyman from Egypt, and a leader of the Jews named Herban.241 The king is identified from a companion document, The Laws of the Himyarites, as Abraha, the Ethiopian general who became the king of Himyar (Yemen) in the early sixth century.242 According to this work, King Abraha forced baptism upon the pagans in his kingdom and required it of the Jews as well, but they appealed. Gregentius agreed that the Jews should not be forced to convert and proposed a debate that would lead to conviction. The king accepted the proposal and set a debate, which took place over four days. The substance of the debate is the standard appeal to Scriptures concerning the prophecy and deity of Christ and answering the Jewish charge of abandoning the laws of God. Herban is unusual in that he exposes the absence of specific references to the Christ in the Hebrew Scriptures. He laments that the Scriptures were ever translated into Greek, asks why the prophets were not more clear-spoken about the advent of Jesus, and declares that the Christian use of the Psalms to find predictions of Jesus leaves him in a maze. In the end, argument does not win the day for the Christians, but a divine revelation modeled on Paul’s Damascus road experience. On the fourth day, Herban tells his Jewish supporters that he dreamed that he saw Moses worshiping Jesus, and Moses told Herban that he would lose the debate. As the debate begins, Herban declares the arguments are a waste of time and challenges Gregentius to show him Jesus, and he will believe. The Jews all agree. Gregentius moves away, prostrates himself three times, and prays. Upon his “Amen,” the earth shakes, and from the east a thunderstorm ravages them. Then the clouds open, and Jesus appears. He cries out, “At the entreaty of the archbishop I appear before you, I who was crucified by your fathers.” The terrified Jews are blinded and agree to be baptized in the hopes of restored sight. Herban attempts to be healed first, then baptized, but Gregentius insists that the healing will come only with belief. All the Jews convert, and the king commands them to intermarry with the Christians. “So the whole Jewish nation became mingled with the Christian, and kneaded together in the course of time completely forgot its ancestry.” The dialogue thus ends with an impressive burst of wishful thinking, the equivalent of “and we all lived happily ever after.” The recording and preservation of debates, or incidences such as the forced conversion on Minorca, was useful only to


teach and inspire and was rarely transmitted without the embellishment of legend. A debate of a bishop faring poorly against the Jews, but whose prayers summoned divine aid, would encourage and inspire. It also tacitly admits that the scriptural arguments are not obviously convincing, unless one’s eyes are opened. Jewish legends are filled with miracles as well, but one is reminded of the debate between Eliezer and the other sages led by Joshua concerning the oven of Aknai, where the miracles, and even the voice of God, are rejected in favor of human debate.243 The legend also teaches that forced conversion of Jews is futile, if not wrong. Scholarly opinion is divided on a possible historical kernel to the dialogue, but there are sufficient historical references to debates, including one between Jews and Christians under the watchful eye of Muhammad, that some such debate likely occurred during the reign of Abraha, which it may be recalled followed the reign of Dhu Nuwas, the Jewish king of Himyar who massacred the Christians at Najran. Accordingly, it may reflect the genuine reversal of fortunes between the Christians and the Jews in Himyar just prior to the rise of Muhammad.

S6.5.2 Disputation of the Church and the Synagogue This anonymous dialogue depicts the congregations of Christians and Jews in dispute before the Censors, magistrates of Republican Rome responsible for the moral reputation of citizens registered to vote. If the Censor found some moral objection, public or private, in the man’s conduct, he noted it on the registration list, and the offender’s right to vote was cancelled, though he was still subject to the tax. The office was dissolved in 22 b.c.e., and the responsibilities assumed by the emperor. The anachronistic setting of a trial before Censors carries the symbolic irony of future censorship of the Jews. The church and the synagogue are portrayed as women in dispute over an inheritance. The anonymous narrator brings their case before the Censors for judgment:244 One of the two ladies was caught out in adultery more than once and had violated by premature usurpation the legal rights of the possession that we claim as ours. . . . But by the law of restitution she is compelled to give it back every day . . . for we utterly deny the whole of her claim to possession. . . . The Lady who is the Synagogue, once powerful and wealthy, usurped by her gold the Gentile nations, who are our inheritance, our property, granted to us—even the very ends of the earth—by the law of the Supreme Emperor.

The exchange between “this Mother and Widow, namely the Synagogue,” and “our Mother, the church” begins, citing the usual arguments, although tailored by the analogy of the two women who each claim to be the spouse of God. The Synagogue defends her original covenant relationship and asked that the Christian claims be established through the Law and the Prophets, which the Church does. The Synagogue speaks concisely, since she is but a foil, while the Church exudes triumphalism and repeatedly prefaces her response with condescension: “Listen, poor and unhappy Lady!” or “Of course, thou foolish Woman!” In the end, the case


is won, but no call for baptism is made. It appears, therefore, that this disputation is largely for Christian consumption, preaching to the choir, not part of the evangelistic effort of most other dialogues. A date of 438–476 has been proposed. It may prefigure the medieval drama of the church, as well as the figures of the two women adorning the cathedrals, the blindfolded Synagogue and the farseeing Church.245

S6.5.3 The Teaching of Jacob Newly Baptized A far more reliable tale of forced conversion and Jewish debate is found in The Teaching of Jacob Newly Baptized (Doctrina Jacobi).246 This document is an early form of disputation literature preserved in Christian tradition, but because the origin of the story lies in the forced baptisms of Heraclius, and the sense of an early response to the Arab conquest, the original document, written in Greek, is dated to 634, before the capture of Jerusalem by Caliph Umar. It appears likely that the author is a converted Jew writing for the conversion of his fellow Jews. The life of Jacob before his conversion, though not necessarily factual, mirrors a believable reality and reveals something of Jewish layman’s attitude to the dominant Christian culture in Palestine. Jacob spent his earlier life as a merchant, traveling and haranguing Christians at every occasion. When conflicts between the Green and Blue circus factions arose, he would join the Greens to harass the Blues, or join the Blues when they got the better of the Greens. During the Jewish riots of 610 in Antioch, he helped murder the imperial officer in charge of subduing the Jews, and disguised as a Blue he injured a number of Christians.247 He also admitted to joining those who torched the church of Ptolemais, during which he rescued the books of the Law and the Prophets but tore up the copies of the New Testament. Jacob’s business brought him to Carthage after the decree of Heraclius. There, he pretended to be a Christian, but falling down a stairway one day, an exclamation betrayed him, and he was forcibly baptized on Pentecost in 632. Later, however, he came to believe his new religion was true. With the scene set, Jacob is visited by Justus, a cousin from Palestine, who upon learning of the genuine conversion of Jacob is at one point ready to strangle him with his turban. For several weeks Jacob explains his new beliefs to Justus and a group of other Jews. They hold their discussions in secret for fear of the Christians, but without their knowledge, all is recorded by Joseph, a scribe who sits outside the door. The tone of the tract is very human. The ploy of closed-door conversations allows the Jews to speak freely, to curse each other as mamziros (“bastard!”) and to reveal the violence Christians inflict on Jews, especially forced baptisms and the threat of torture. The following exchange occurs between Jacob and Isaac, one of the group Jacob is trying to convert. Jacob answered and said [to Isaac], “. . . Perhaps if the Christians heard you, they would not burn you?” Isaac answered and said, “You will not say anything evil to the Christians about me at any time, I think, miserable and evil Jacob. Do I not know what you did to the Christians . . . and how many you killed? And I will speak to them and they will kill you!”248


Yet, despite the violence of Christians upon Jews, and Jews upon Christians, a divine purpose is at work. Forced baptism, in itself wrong, is still a means of bringing Jews to the truth. In the course of the discussion, Jacob gives a rationale for why the law of Moses is no longer valid: “As those before the law of Moses were under the law of Nature, and it was not necessary for them to keep the sabbath, but when the Law came he who would not do so was accursed, so again it is not necessary to keep the sabbath now that Christ the true light has come.” He also argues against the belief that Mary is theotokos, the mother of God. Mary was the kinswoman of Elizabeth, of the tribe of Levi, not the tribe of Judah, as Christians argued in order to avoid the problem of Jesus’ genealogical descent from David. Concerning the christological disputes, Jacob cautiously refers to Christians who “when they pronounce that the Son and the Holy Spirit are one substance (homoousios) with the Father, or other mysteries or honored doctrine, they possess [knowledge] that we have still not comprehended. . . . And in no way let them anathematize us as heretics! . . . For the Christians exile and anathematize bishops and patrarchs for departing in their opinions just a little bit.” This frank revelation reveals that Jewish converts, to say nothing of the many Gentile converts, did not comprehend the theological disputes but defended their simpler faith as genuine and orthodox. The Teaching of Jacob contrasts with standard Christian polemic in ways important to Jews. The mission of Christ was not to condemn the Jewish people but to extend the covenant relationship to the Gentiles. Jacob places the responsibility for the crucifixion of Jesus on Pilate and his soldiers, along with the few Jewish leaders, priests and scribes, not on the Jewish people as a whole. Jacob also refers to the flight of the Jerusalem church to Pella before the war of 66–70, taken, no doubt, from Eusebius, but where Eusebius speaks of “the people of the church,” Jacob refers to “the Jews who believed in Christ.” But God commanded those Jews who believed in Christ, both before and after the crucifixion, through a divine vision that appeared before them, to leave [Judaea], and ordered that they dwell across the Jordan in Pella, as the area was called. Thus, when the Romans conquered all the east, they destroyed the Jews in city and countryside, but they did not approach the Jews who believed in Christ at Pella, for they were guarded by the holy spirit.249

Jacob despises intermarriage and thinks it good to keep a kosher diet so as to maintain close relations with his community. But it is wrong to make Gentile Christians live like Jews. He favors Jewish and Gentile Christians keeping their separate identities. It shows intimacy with Jewish life and a desire to remain explicitly Jewish as a believer in Christ. “For Judah and Israel and the nations that believe in Christ have one rule and one king, Christ” (56). The Gentiles have been brought into the kingdom but have not superseded the Jews who have accepted Christ as their king. This missionary tract was probably written by a converted Jew and could very well be mostly biographical. It could also be a very clever piece of fiction. But it stands out from the rest of its genre for its reflection of realities of the early seventh


century and yet retains strong links to the first century of Peter and Paul. It shows the feisty attitude we should expect from many Jewish converts, worthy of the Pauline tradition.

S6.6 Messianic Hope of Jews and Christians The Jews who saw visions at the turn of the first century, the Ezra of 4 Ezra and the John of Revelation, both saw the near advent of the Messiah. Popular Jewish messianic expectation ebbed and flowed with the times, and Christians flowed with them in their messianic beliefs that Christ will come again. The sages, with few exceptions, avoided the entanglements of the messianic hope in the realpolitik of Judaea. Johanan ben Zakkai had set the tone by his dictum: “If you have a sapling tree in your hand, and they say to you, ‘Look, the Messiah has come’—go and plant your sapling, then go and greet the Messiah.” Akiba’s support for Bar Kokhba as the Messiah was one of the exceptions, but in the preserved tradition, he is immediately censured by Rabbi Tarfon: “Grass will grow from your cheeks and still Messiah will not have come.” The Mishnah has been described as a “Judaism without Messiah.”250 If true, that is partly due to the narrow scope of its focus on halakhah; for the same sages cited for their legal rulings also engaged in a variety of speculative thought, and Akiba cannot have been the only one anticipating the Messiah. Still, the sages were among those Jews who tried to rein in the passion of messianic anticipation that retained its strength and substance in the pre-rabbinic Amidah (Eighteen Benedictions) and the nonrabbinic Targums. Another reason the sages played down a historical realization of the messianic hope was doubtless in response to the Christian focus on the return of Christ the Messiah. Sages handled messianic hope in two ways. One was to historicize messianic prophecies. “Unto us a child is born . . .” (Isa 9:6–7 [5–6]), and “The Lord said to my lord . . .” (Ps 110), were said to have been fulfilled in Hezekiah.251 In due course the messianic prophecy “The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet” (Gen 49:10) was applied to the exilarchs in Babylonia and patriarchs in Palestine, each of whom put forward a Davidic lineage.252 The sages also diffused end time calculations. According to one tradition, the prophet Elijah who frequently visited the sages, said to certain rabbi, “The world shall exist not less than 85 jubilees [85 x 50 = 4250 years], and in the last jubilee the son of David will come.” When asked if it would be at the start of the last 50 years, or at the end, Elisha replied, “I do not know.” The rabbi asked whether it would be at the start or the end of the last year, and Elisha said, “I do not know.” Later Rav Ashi interpreted the exchange to mean, before the 85 jubilees do not expect him; afterwards you may begin to await him. Rav said: “All the predestined dates [for redemption] have passed, and the matter now depends only on repentance and good deeds.” Rabbi Johanan said, “Blasted be the bones of those who calculate the end” because when the Messiah does not come at the predetermined time, they think he will never come.253


A classic tradition among the many introduced to explain the delay of the Messiah and to counter those who predicted his coming, also renders his coming entirely conditional upon the spiritual state of the Jewish people. R. Joshua b. Levi ( fl. 240–260) asked Elijah: When will the Messiah come? Elijah: Go and ask him yourself. Joshua: Where is he sitting? Elijah: At the gates of Rome. Joshua: And by what sign may I recognize him? Elijah: He is sitting among the poor lepers: all of them untie the bandages over their sores all at once, and rebandage them together, whereas he unties and rebandages each sore separately, before treating the next, thinking, should I be wanted [to appear as the Messiah], I must not be delayed [having to bandage a number of sores]. Joshua went to him and greeted him: Peace be upon thee, Master and Teacher. Messiah: Peace be upon thee, O son of Levi. Joshua: When wilt thou come, Master? Messiah: Today. On his returning to Elijah, the latter enquired: What did he say to you? Joshua: Peace Upon thee, O son of Levi. Elijah: He thereby assured you and your father of a portion in the world to come. Joshua: He spoke falsely to me, stating that he would come today, but has not. Elijah: This is what he said to you, Today, if you will hear his voice (Ps 95:7).254

To begin with, even the rabbi failed to meet the condition for Messiah’s advent. The Messiah comes not according to a predetermined time but the worthiness, or faith, of the people of God. Second, Messiah lives on the earth and awaits his call. Messiah lives in degradation and agony among the outcasts of society, not unlike Job, awaiting his call. There is all the more imperative on the people of God to hear the Lord and hasten the coming of the Messiah. Rabbi Aha and others extended it plainly to all Israel. “If Israel repents for one day, forthwith the son of David will come.”255 Christians had their own long journey interpreting the Revelation of John and calculating the return of Jesus. The deduction that the millennium was a sabbath rest, based on the verse, “One day is with the Lord as a thousand years,” and would follow 6000 years of human history, retained a powerful hold on the Christian imagination.256 Although some believed Jesus could return at any time, a consensus arose that Christ had initially come in the middle of the sixth millennium, and eyes strained toward the year 500. A literal reading of Revelation, and the belief in a twostage return of Jesus, first to inaugurate his thousand-year reign, and again at the


last judgment, was held by several early church fathers, Justin, Irenaeus, Hippolytus, and Lactantius, who argued the saints would beget children and have pagans for servants. The Montanists were especially enthusiastic and expected the New Jerusalem to descend not in Palestine but in Phrygia. Because the millennial reign became increasingly associated with the dreams of the masses for a thousand-year marriage feast in which they would wine, and dine, and marry, other church leaders, especially Origen, his pupil Dionysius, and later followed by Augustine, argued for an allegorical interpretation that replaced the carnal meaning with a spiritual one. According to Eusebius, a certain Nepos, bishop of Arsinoe in third-century Egypt, preached the literal thousand-year reign on earth, which Eusebius condemned as a “more Jewish” interpretation that assumed “a kind of millennium on this earth devoted to bodily indulgence.” Dionysius, the bishop of Alexandria, responded to Nepos, against the literal view. In so doing, he wrote that some Christians had set the book of Revelation aside, pronouncing it senseless and without reason, and even a forgery by the heretic Cerinthus. He himself refused to set it aside, because many brothers and sisters valued it highly. He offered a rare admission: For if I do not understand I suspect that a deeper sense lies beneath the words. I do not measure and judge them by my own reason, but leaving the more to faith regard them as too high for me to grasp. And I do not reject what I cannot comprehend, but rather wonder because I do not understand it.257

Augustine had believed in a literal millennium, but because of the immoderate expectations of the carnal Christians, he later became convinced that it must be spiritualized. The literalists were called Chiliasts (Greek for thousand), which Augustine rendered in Latin as Millenarians. In his spiritual interpretation, the millennium had begun with the incarnation of Christ, who now reigned, and therefore it was this age that Satan had already been imprisoned for the thousand years so that he could no longer deceive the nations. The millennium was the age of the church, which will end upon the return of Christ.258 The allegorical and spiritual interpretation thereafter dominated the church scholars, though the millennial hope lived on, to rise like a Phoenix in modern times. Toward the middle of the fifth century, rabbinic tradition from Palestine began to engage the revival of popular messianism. They emphasized a time of tribulation, the “birth pangs of the messiah” would precede his advent.259 Some sages produced calculations of the end times, indicating that it was imminent. They also distinguished between the messianic age, a type of millennium, and the world to come, eternity.260 The messianic age was essentially the return of views held in the first century b.c.e., in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Psalms of Solomon, in which ancient prophecy of Isa 11 is fulfilled and God, through Israel, would rule over the nations. But the sages also spiritualized messianism and incorporated it into synagogue liturgy. The later midrashim, Lamentations Rabbah, Song of Songs Rabbah, and Pesiqta deRab Kahana, contain more of the popular messianic hope. Blessed is the hour in which the Messiah was created! Blessed is the womb whence he came! Blessed is the generation whose eyes behold him!

688 Vines Intertwined Blessed is the eye which has been given the privilege of seeing him whose lips open with blessing and peace, whose diction is pure delight! whose garments are glory and majesty; who is confident and serene in his speech the utterance of whose tongue is pardon and forgiveness, whose supplication during his study of Torah is purity and holiness.261

The poetic and spiritualized messianic hope became the forerunner of messianic mysticism and the Kabbalah. The authors and keepers of the traditions were either independent of the Talmudic rabbis and their successors or on the fringes of the rabbinic movement. The rabbis were aware of the literature, and of the danger it posed. The sages of the Mishnah had advised against exposition on the works of creation (Gen 1:1–3) before two, or the chapter of the divine chariot (Ezek 1) even before one person, unless he was a sage and understood of his own knowledge; and they warned against speculation on what is above, what is below, what is before, and what is beyond.262 The four who entered Paradise, Ben Azzai and Ben Zoma, Aher (“the Other One”), and Rabbi Akiba, became the classic example of the danger of esoteric speculations.263 One strand of esoteric speculation that apparently developed independent of rabbinic influence revived the ancient Enoch traditions. A Hebrew compilation that has survived is known as 3 Enoch (fifth–sixth century). In this Enoch literature, the most high angel, Metatron, reveals apocalyptic knowledge to Rabbi Ishmael, whom we are told is none other than Enoch. Metatron shows Ishmael the “curtain of the Omnipresent One, which is spread before the Holy One, Blessed be he, and on which are printed all the generations of the world and all their deeds, whether done or to be done, till the last generation.” Ishmael sees each generation and its potentates, from Adam onward, through the wars of the Gentiles on Israel in the days of Gentile domination, to the coming of the Messiah son of Joseph, whose generation will do away with the Gentiles, and then the Messiah the son of David and his generation. “And I saw,” says Ishmael, “all the battles and wars which Gog and Magog will fight with Israel in the days of the Messiah, and all that the Holy One, blessed be he, will do to them in the time to come.”264 Other bodies of traditions marginally associated with the rabbis are the Heikhalot (heavenly halls) literature, on the throne room of God, and Merkavah (heavenly chariot) literature concerning the divine chariot of Ezek 1. In some Heikhalot literature, the great messianic reversal is already established in heaven, where Israel reigns in glory over the nations. In the David Apocalypse, David is portrayed as an exalted heavenly being who ascends to heaven, and there he is enthroned.265 Another book, known as the Book of Zerubbabel (Sefer Zerubavel), was first written in the seventh century on the eve of the Persian invasion. It describes a vision given to Zerubbabel in which the end times against the kingdom of Rome was made known. The land of Israel will be under the dominion of Armilius (Romulus = Christian Rome), who has defiled the land with idolatrous “asherah” shrines (churches), but the Messiah will wage war against him and with the help of his mother, defeat Israel’s foes, and the exiles will return to the land.266


An ancient synagogue hymn, independent of rabbinic influence, makes oblique reference to the Byzantine Empire. Remember the nation that trusts in thee And rescue them from the viper’s clasp, Performing wonders at this time. Spare, O Lord, the myriad folk, Consign my tormentors to the flames, As thou didst then through the Hasmoneans . . . Redeemer, hasten our salvation That we may delight in thee When thou destroyest the evil Greek empire.267

Messiah did not come, but Muhammad did. Some Jews apparently saw Muhammad as the Messiah, others as the prophet to precede the Messiah, but others as a false prophet.268 There is some evidence that Jews thought the Muslims would permit rebuilding of the temple and that early construction on the temple mount was in fact the new temple. If that were to be so, Christians could only see Muhammad as the false messiah, the false prophet before the Antichrist, if not the Antichrist himself. Christians initially understood Islam in their own terms of a new Christian heresy.269

S6.7 Jewish and Christian Response to the Muslim Conquest On the ancient Near East principle that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, there was every reason for Jews of Palestine and Roman Syria to welcome the generals of Muhammad and rise up against their old Christian overlords, just as many had sided with the Persians in their invasion. But the identification of enemies and friends was a matter of self-interest, and that according to how the winds blew. Jews, Samaritans, and Christians fought together in defense of their homes against raiding Arabs, and joined in the pay of Constantinople for the common cause. Christian Arabs fought against Muslim Arabs. The Jews in Egypt did not welcome the Arab invaders; they fled Alexandria, and many were taken prisoner or killed. But the Jews of Arabia, Palestine, and Roman Syria had cause to side with the invaders. Jews had little to lose and potentially much to gain by new rulers in Palestine. Sebeos paints in broad strokes the Jewish alliance with the invading Arabs of Palestine. All the remnants of the people of the sons of Israel gathered and united together [with the Arabs]; they formed a large army. Following that, they sent messages to the Greek king, saying: “God gave that land [Palestine] to our father Abraham as a hereditary possession and to his seed after him. We are the sons of Abraham. You have occupied our land long enough. Abandon it peacefully and we shall not come into your territory. Otherwise, we shall demand that possession from you with interest.”270


The supposed kinship of the descendants of Abraham had been long in the making. Various Arab tribes identified themselves as sons of Ishmael (noted as far back as Josephus) or were identified by others as descendants of the sons of Abraham’s later wife Keturah, and according to the Armenians, even their Parthian ancestors descended Abraham and Keturah.271 A later Jewish source looks back on the Arab invasion: It was God’s will to have us find favor before the Ishmaelite kingdom at the time of its conquest of the Holy Land from the hands of Edom. When they [the Arabs] came to Jerusalem, there were with them men from among the children of Israel who showed them the place of the Temple. . . .272

The Teaching of Jacob, mentioned above, preserves what appears to be a Jewish response in North Africa, or as it claims, from Palestine, to the coming of Islam. When Jacob’s relative from Palestine, Justus, came to Carthage, he brought news of a new false prophet recently appearing in Arabia. Justus had with him a letter from his brother Abraham, who wrote to him about the prophet. The reference to the new prophet stems from the satisfaction Jews in Palestine felt when the Saracens (Arabs) killed a Roman officer, as Abraham explains: When the candidatus (Roman officer) was killed by the Saracens, I was at Caesarea and I set off by boat to Sykamina. People were saying “the officer has been killed,” and we Jews were overjoyed. And they were saying that the prophet had appeared, coming with the Saracens, and that he was proclaiming the advent of the anointed one, the Christ who was to come. I, having arrived at Sykamina, stopped by a certain old man, well-versed in the scriptures, and I said to him: “What can you tell me about the prophet who has appeared with the Saracens?” He replied, groaning deeply: “He is false, for the prophets do not come armed with a sword. Truly there are works of anarchy being committed today and I fear that the first Christ to come, whom the Christians worship, was the one sent by God, and we instead are preparing to receive the Antichrist. Indeed Isaiah said that the Jews would retain a perverted and hardened heart until all the earth should be devastated. But you go, master Abraham, and find out about the prophet who has appeared.” So I, Abraham, enquired and heard from those who had met him that there was no truth to be found in the so-called prophet, only the shedding of men’s blood. He says also that he has the keys of paradise, which is incredible.273

It was a time of uncertainty. While Jews of Palestine had good reason to rejoice at the deaths of Roman officers and the removal of Roman authority over them, they were no more inclined than Christians to accept Muhammad as the Prophet. Prophets do not come armed with a sword. It would require later apocalyptic visions to place Muhammad firmly in the divine scheme. The document also alludes to the fact that Jews were joining the Arab armies. As they prepare to return to Palestine, Jacob asks Justus how he will react if the Jews who mix with the Saracens try to turn him against his new faith. Justus replies, “Even if the Jews and Saracens take hold of me and cut me into little pieces, I will not deny the Christ.”274


In general, the Jews of Palestine and Persia seem to have welcomed their Muslim conquerors. The poll taxes they had paid to their respective emperors were simply transferred to their new masters, and they entered the dhimmi status of a People of the Book. At least the Jews of Palestine could now reckon themselves by their dignified heritage of Abraham without derision or persecution. The Letter of R. Sherira recalls that when the Muslims conquered the city of Piruz-Shapur, the leader of the Jews, Mar Isaac, went out to welcome the Muslim commander, Ali ibn Abutalab, and the conqueror likewise received Mar Isaac, along with the 90,000 Jews, in a friendly manner.275 The great war between the Persian and Byzantine empires admirably fit the eschatological battle between God and Magog, and the world dominion of the evil kingdom for a short time was necessary before Messiah would come.276 The forced baptisms ordered by Heraclius could only confirm the tribulation. The prophetic visions of Simeon ben Yohai were revived. Since he [Simeon ben Yohai] saw the kingdom of Ishmael that was coming, he began to say: “Was it not enough what the wicked kingdom of Edom [Rome] has done to us, but [we deserve] the kingdom of Ishmael too?” At once Metatron, the foremost angel, answered him and said: “Do not fear, son of man, for the Almighty only brings the kingdom of Ishmael in order to deliver you from this wicked one [Edom]. He raises up over them [Ishmaelites] a prophet according to His will and He will conquer the land for them, and they will come and restore it to greatness, and a great dread will come between them and the sons of Esau [Christians].”277

If the coming of the Muslims was eschatological for many Jews, it was also punishment for sins to many Christians. Sophronius, patriarch of Jerusalem, spoke of “the Saracens who, on account of our sins, have now risen up against us unexpectedly and ravaged all with cruel and feral design, with impious and godless audacity.”278 In a sermon on baptism, just before the fall of Jerusalem in 638, he said: Why are the troops of the Saracens attacking us? Why has there been so much destruction and plunder? Why are there incessant outpourings of human blood? Why are the birds of the sky devouring human bodies? Why have churches been pulled down? Why is the cross mocked? Why is Christ, who is the dispenser of all good things and the provider of his joyousness of ours, blasphemed by pagan mouths so that he justly cries out to us: “Because of you my name is blasphemed among the pagans,” and this is the worst of all the terrible things that are happening to us. . . . 279

Sophornius also interpreted events in the light of apocalypse; for upon seeing Caliph Umar’s intention to ascend the temple mount in his rags, he said, “Verily, this is the abomination of desolation standing in a holy place, as has been spoken through the prophet Daniel.”280 Maximus the Confessor (d. 662) saw in the Muslim conquest the punishment of sin and fulfillment of prophecy (2 Thess 2:3) at the hands of the Jews, who announce by their actions the presence of the Antichrist since they ignored the true Savior . . . this people who are the master of falsehood, the agent of crime, the enemy of truth, the savage persecutor of the faith. . . . What is more terrifying, I say, for

692 Vines Intertwined the eyes and ears of Christians than to see a cruel and alien nation authorized to raise its hand against the divine inheritance? But it is the multitude of sins committed by us that has allowed this.281

After the Arabs took Seleucia-Ctesiphon in 637, it was apparent to the least observant that the invasion was more than the mother of all razzias. The Persian patriarch at the time of the Islamic conquest, Ishoyahb II of Gdala (628–646), negotiated the transition from Persian to Arab rule. The Church of the East, with its Nestorian theology, was easily absorbed into the expanding Muslim world. Ishoyahb had already reorganized the church and restored or founded a number of theological schools. His mission to the Far East is attested by the 781 stele of Xian, the capital of China under the Tang dynasty, which records that a Christian mission from Persia reached China in 635. In the West, Jerusalem was a loss, but not one to hinder daily life. The bishops were still more interested in doctrinal purity. The first pope to mention the Arab invasion was Martin I (649–655), and that was in a letter written from Constantinople in 653 after his arrest by Emperor Constans II for refusing to sign the latest doctrinal agreement, the Typos, which was to supercede the Ecthesis of Heraclius. Martin assures the recipient of his letter that at no time had he ever negotiated with the Saracens or dispatched money to them.282 Islam arose in troubled times, in a generation of war and religious conflict and confusion. Jews and Christians saw Islam as some kind of monotheistic heresy, but Muslims may well have thought they were offering the quarreling monotheists a suitable compromise. Many of the Qur’an’s suras have absorbed traditions, legends, and teachings that floated throughout the Near East. The mélange facilitated conversions, particularly when it brought one the advantages of the ruling ideology, something Jews had been practicing for three centuries by then. The political conflict by which Islam spread soon transformed a religion into a civilization. The Muslim overlords accepted the rabbis as the leaders of the new millet communities. Gradually, rabbis accomplished what their forefathers had dreamed of, bringing all Israel under the yoke of heaven according to their guidance. Gradually, they developed magnificent academies, the likes of which were formerly assumed to exist during the Talmudic era. It mattered little that the fiscus Iudaicus, Jewish poll tax, once paid to Rome, was now paid to the Muslims. It was the tax, the jizyah, that identified them as the People of the Book, Ahl al-Kitab (Sura 9.29), and guaranteed their limited rights and protection. As the People of the Book, Jews and Judaism would flourish under Islam, at least during its Golden Age. In Christendom, it was not so. There were no great changes for Jews of Byzantine Rome or emerging Europe. No new overlords. Christians were Christians and Jews were Jews . . . who ought to be Christians. Most Jews shrugged and got on with their business. But darker times loomed. Although Spain is not exemplary of the rest of Christendom at this time, the Sixth Council of Toledo (638) foreshadowed things to come by returning to the hard line of the previous generation. Jews who persisted in their Judaism were to be banned from the kingdom. A coronation oath for the Jews was composed, which they were required to take in order to remain in Catholic Spain. Here is the preamble to the oath:

Jews and Christians IV 693 In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. To the most sacred general Council which convenes this year in the Church of Saint Leocadia the Martyr in the tribunal of Toledo, and to the most glorious and most pious our lord Chintila the King, all the former Hebrews of the city of Toledo: Whereas our manifest prevarication and generally known perfidy has been exposed, and whereas we ourselves, warned and admonished by you, have now spontaneously chosen to return to the way of salvation, it is necessary, first, to declare our faith in all purity, and then that we should establish the punishment due to transgressors of this holy oath. For this reason all of us former Hebrews, who have been called to the love of faith by our one and only lord in Christ in the Holy Synod, in the Church of Saint Leocadia the Martyr, and who are about to sign below or make the signs of the holy cross, We believe in one God, Omnipotent Trinity, Father and Son and Holy Ghost, three persons and one substance, Creator of all the created; and we confess the Father unbegotten, the Son begotten of the Father, and the Holy Ghost proceeding from both; and for this reason one nature of the Godhead and unity of majesty, subsisting in three Persons. . . .283

The act of requiring this detailed statement of faith as a preface to an oath of loyalty to the crown testifies to a failure of memory in the futility of forced conversions. But this is no innovation. It is Ezra and Nehemiah upon the people of Jerusalem; the Hasmoneans, Hyrcanus on the Idumaeans, Jannaeus on the Ituraeans; the Zealots of the Great Revolt, and their zealous heirs the Christian monks. It is bishops and Christian kings, but also Augustus and emperor worship, or Diocletian’s imperative to sacrifice to the old gods, or the Persian magi and the fire temples. It is the fervent desire and inherent need for unity of a people in order to receive the blessings of heaven, or to use a modern turn of phrase, “one nation under God.” The road to a stable religious pluralism within a nation that saw itself as the people of the one true God was still a long one. With that, the curtain closes on this history to the sound of a tear-laden Jewish chorus in seventh-century Spain.

Epilogue Every history, whether well or poorly done, is a child of its age. To state the obvious, this history is no exception. It is written early in the twenty-first century, during a lingering post-Holocaust ambience, and a time of religious violence—not that violence is new to our generation. It relies on the insights of hundreds of scholars who, despite their best intentions or in keeping with them, let leak personal bias into their evaluations of our ancient sources. My own bias is assumed. As I stated in the introduction, I incline toward a hermeneutic of trust, a maximalist stance, because life is full, and its fullness may be inferred, often from statements en passant, behind the meager sources. For understanding the historical heritage of Jews and Christians, I rely on the analogy from contemporary humanity to help explain the passions and actions of Jews and Christians in the past because we see life repeating itself over and over. I subscribe to the principle plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose, or in the words of Qohelet, there is nothing new under the sun. Historians can only hope that the histories they write are sufficiently verisimilar to the unknowable reality of the past that they serve a purpose of history: to learn from a past that is nigh to reality. Learning from history has been exposed by Hegel as a vain hope, but knowledge of history does provide perspective. It is difficult to know whither we go without knowing whence we come. Whatever value may be derived from this history, it is intended to facilitate the ongoing dialogue between Jews and Christians. Toward that end, there are a few current issues occupying scholars that deserve comment. At the epistemological level, scholars continue to question the possibility of discovering real Jewish Christian relations from the ambiguous rhetorical hints in Jewish literature and the impassioned Christian rhetoric on the Jews. Can we distinguish between rhetoric and reality? Because most of our sources on the relations of Jews and Christians come from Christian hands, ancient Christians are mostly in the spotlight. As noted in the discussion on the Christian accounts of Jewish-Christian “dialogues” and “debates,” and even starting with the dialogues between Jesus and the Pharisees in the Gospels, there are often legitimate doubts that anything of historical reality may be gleaned from them about the Jews. The doubts are legitimate because our ancient sources did not seek to record history as we understand it so much as to fashion the past for their present purposes. The extent to which we think we have gotten behind the rhetoric to the reality that spurred it on


will be a human evaluation on which we may reasonably differ. Rhetoric, however, only has meaning if there is a social reality that it dramatizes. Jews were the subject of Christian rhetoric and the “rhetorical Jew” only because Jews were a persistent threat to Christians, and they were only a threat because Christians and Jews were in social intercourse. They were neighbors: vines intertwined. The effort to pry reality from the layers of rhetoric has required a better understanding of the vast context from which the central texts of the Jewish and Christian faiths emerged. The vast context means everything that can be known, and it means setting Jewish and Christian origins equally within the vast context, not each within their separate little worlds. It means reading Jewish history in the light of Christianity and Christian history in the light of Judaism, and both within the light of the Greco-Roman and Persian worlds. One significant development over the past generation has been a sustained effort to read the New Testament texts in their first-century Jewish and Greco-Roman settings, and less through the lens of a full-fledged Christianity of the post-Reformation era. The New Testament is a collection of Jewish writings, and the apostolic Jesus movement was one of several currents of Judaism (or one of several Judaisms), and as such it contributes to the knowledge of early Judaism as well as Christian origins. The New Testament is a source by which to clarify rabbinic traditions; much less so do rabbinic traditions elucidate the New Testament, unless they can be shown to stem from the first century. Another development is the revisionist interpretation of the Jewish evidence, particularly rabbinic tradition, which sees far more Jewish response to the influence of Christianity than has ever been allowed. Judaism and Christianity mirror each other. This research is true literary archaeology, and much remains to be found. Altogether, the broad contextual reading has brought Jewish and Christian scholars into greater cooperation for a common goal: history. The cooperation between Jewish and Christian scholars has facilitated a more open awareness of the subjective biases (redundancy intended) that historians bring to the evaluation of the sources. Most everyone agrees that true objectivity is unobtainable, but on the principle that our reach should exceed our grasp (or what’s a heaven for?) clear-sighted neutrality remains a worthwhile goal. During the nineteenth century, Christian scholars, while writing their histories, made small effort to disguise their scorn for all things Jewish. Christian triumphalism still lingered in the halls of universities and seminaries. This attitude could be called, with some justification, anti-Semitism. It not only crept into the Christian public via schools and churches, but it affected Jewish scholarship as well, which naturally sought to defend itself by an anti-Christian reading of history that was no less biased. The classic work of James Parkes, The Conflict of the Church and the Synagogue (1934), is a tribute to the voices of that generation who openly sought to overcome the prevailing prejudices. After the Holocaust, most scholars of the day momentarily stood mute. (Not even God was allowed to speak.) Since then, scholarship has renewed the study of Jewish Christian relations, but now with a certain hesitancy that may also hamper the ideal of intellectual integrity, or even the ability to honestly evaluate our sources. The difficulty for scholars in the post-Holocaust era, especially Christian

Epilogue 697

scholars, is the fear that a critique of Jews in antiquity will be construed as a critique of modern Jews or modern Judaism, or in some way be linked to the memory of anti-Semitism in academia. One result of the tension has been a stream of research into the origins of Christian anti-Semitism, which happened to be the subtitle of James Parkes’s book: A Study in the Origins of Antisemitism. The label anti-Semitism arose in the late nineteenth century to describe a hatred, or prejudice, specific to the Jews as a distinct people, or ethnicity, or (erroneously) as a race, and one with which Parkes was very familiar. Just as the charge of racism is mostly applied to people in power, despite the obvious hatred expressed by people out of power for those in power (when they can get away with it), so the charge of anti-Semitism in studies of antiquity is applied primarily to Christians, while Gentile animosity toward Jews is described as common xenophobia. The charge of anti-Semitism was leveled especially at the post-Constantine imperial church but has also been applied to Christians back to the first century, including Paul the Jew and the Jewish authors of the Gospels, especially Matthew and John. Because, however, anti-Semitism is a species of racism, hatred directed at people qua people, it is now generally accepted in the guild of Jewish and Christian studies that the modern label of anti-Semitism is inappropriate for antiquity. The antagonism Christians displayed toward Jews was spurred primarily by the challenges Judaism leveled at Christianity. It was a matter of ideology, not biology. So, the proper term is anti-Judaism. But even anti-Judaism is misleading when applied to the writings of the New Testament, because it requires a clear distinction between Judaism and Christianity, which did not yet exist. It is almost universally agreed that the authors of the New Testament, with the possible exception of Luke, were themselves Jews, and their writings were against fellow Jews who had rejected Jesus as the Messiah, not against Jewishness, Torah, or temple per se. Indeed, the lonely Gentile among the Gospel writers was the most benevolent, or diplomatic, concerning the other Jews in the story of Jesus; perhaps because, as an outsider, he had no ax to grind. For the New Testament writers, including Paul, who themselves were pro-Judaism, their Judaism, simple righteous indignation is a more apt description of their antipathy toward their fellow Jews, and one that applied equally to other “Christians” who could be called “anti-Christs.”1 Nevertheless, in due course the predominantly Gentile Christian polemic is rightly described as anti-Judaism, and to the question of its origin, three basic explanations have been advanced.2 First, Christian antipathy toward Jews flowed from the existing Greco-Roman “pagan” antipathy toward the stand-offish Jewish communities. But, it is noted, Hellenic dislike of Jews stemmed more from a general dislike of foreigners and a common scorn of (to them) inferior cultures than a hatred for Jews above all other foreigners. Jews, however, were also different from Gentile foreigners. Because Jews were “atheists” in that they refused to worship the gods of society, the loss of a Hellenic member to the Jews weakened the social fabric. The religious pluralism of the polytheistic world permitted one to join another religious cultus so long as one did not neglect making peace with the gods of one’s people. (The intermarriage of Jews or Christians with spouses of other faiths is a modern gut-wrenching analogous comparison.) Christians were very much like the monotheistic Jews, so they


identified with them as a religious minority of monotheism; a cause for empathy, rather than antipathy. Hellenes thought being Jewish was fine for Jews, since Judaism was a legitimate religion of the empire, but Christians thought Judaism was wrong because it failed to accept the Messiah. Being Jewish was wrong, because it wasn’t true Israel, and that fundamental error became the justifiable cause for antipathy, to which other prejudices could be attached. A second explanation proposes that both Jews and nascent Christians proselytized Gentiles, so the monotheistic rivalry for souls (or at least financial contributors) fostered the mutual antipathy. The extent to which Jews actively sought converts into the Jewish community continues to be controversial among scholars.3 The expansion of the Jewish population from approximately 150,000 at the restoration of the second temple to some 6 to 7 million during the first century c.e., cannot, it is argued, be explained by procreation alone; it must include vast numbers of converts. The existence and content of some Jewish literature (Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha) was probably directed toward a Gentile as well as a Jewish audience, and the works contain many an appeal, explicit or implicit, to join the Jews. But the appeal is an invitation, a welcome to those who visit the synagogues and may voluntarily wish to join. In any case, the developing concept of the righteous Gentile gave Gentiles a theological option to be accepted by God without becoming Jews. If vast numbers of Gentiles did join the Jewish communities, they were enticed rather than ardently solicited. Still, the attraction of Judaism remained a rivalry to the more defined and perhaps more intense Christian mission, and therefore, it is a legitimate cause for antipathy. As the early Matthean perspective indicated, Jews traversed sea and land for a single convert, only to make him “twice as much a child of hell as yourselves.” But as we have seen, that was still an expression of Jewish indignation against fellow Jews at the time and could have been lifted, unabashedly, from the Dead Sea Scrolls. The third explanation for Christian anti-Judaism is that Jews actively sided with Gentiles in attacking Christians. The Christian antipathy grew out of the longstanding persecution by Jews, starting with the death of Christ, and it was exacerbated by a sense of betrayal among monotheistic brethren into a more virulent antipathy than Christians could have felt against Gentile Hellenes. This history, however, has shown that, despite acts of violence, a voiceless majority of Christians and Jews enjoyed a long tradition of peaceful interaction, including intermarriage. Therefore, it is argued that if Jews had in fact joined the Gentile persecution of Christians, it becomes difficult to explain the predominantly peaceful social intimacy between Christians and Jews. But that response falls into the old trap of assuming all Jews are the same. The two attitudes, hostile and sympathetic, are not incompatible within the plurality of Jewish society, any more than in Christian or Hellenic pagan society. A second problem is that the dissonance between the two attitudes does not prevent scholars from believing the reports of Christian persecution of Jews, nor should it. But the problem of reconciling the two attitudes remains for both sides. This is a mild example of the post-Holocaust hesitancy to accept the veracity of ancient accusations against Jews, despite the anti-Jewish bias of the Christians that colored the accusations.

Epilogue 699

What we do see in antiquity is that the normal social relations of Jews and Christians were sporadically marred by violence on each side, and the outbursts of violence depended to a large extent on the perception of power each side had at any given stage. During the early years of the Jesus movement, their opponents had the power against them and exercised it. Again, with the rise of Julian the Apostate, Jews rioted and burned churches because they could, and did, get away with it. Later, and more often, Christians persecuted the Jews. Each side no doubt considered their acts justified as retribution for past wrongs, or on the part of some Christians, a misguided missionary zeal. But Jews were at each other’s throats long before Christians came along, and Christians were fighting other Christians without any help from the Jews (though some Jews, sometimes, did help one side or the other). As the dialogue continues, it may be said that the same variety of attitudes and acts of violence are found among Jews and Christians today, lending credibility to the past. Where Christians have power, Jews are persecuted. Where Jews have power (mainly in Israel), Christians (mainly Messianic Jews) are persecuted. Where neither Christians nor Jews have power, both are persecuted. Hatred may be found everywhere, but persecution is a function of power. Finally, the sibling rivalry, the us versus them and the self-definition of Jews and Christians in antiquity, is an ongoing subdiscipline that retains continued relevance in our day. Parkes entitled chapter 3 of his Conflict of the Church and the Synagogue “The Parting of the Ways.” One of the most interesting quests occupying scholars of Jewish and Christian relations at the moment is: can we speak of a parting of the ways, and if so, when, how, and why did it occur? According to Parkes, “the definite separation into two religions took place towards the end of the first century.” Some twenty years ago, a symposium of scholars on Jewish Christian relations met to reevaluate the so-called parting of the ways, and their contributions were published under that title: The Parting of the Ways.4 Traditional views had placed the division between Christianity and Judaism during the apostolic era, either between the Pauline and Petrine movements or shortly after the Great Revolt of 70. The Gospels of Matthew and especially John, when read in light of their author’s time, reveal two groups, Jews and Jewish followers of Jesus, well defined and antagonistic. The rabbinic birkat ha-minim and John’s statement, “They will put you out of the synagogues,” were primary evidence. Opponents of the old view, however, had already extended the self-definition of Christianity to the time of Ignatius (ca. 110), when a Christian identity was established. The symposium concluded that any such parting came later still, and though we may detect a beginning after Yavneh (70), a true parting came just after the Bar Kokhba revolt (135). For one thing, it was agreed that the rabbis did not become a significant force within Jewry for several more centuries, so whatever they thought about the Christian “minim” movement (and “heretic” was still an insider term) cannot be used for the Jews of Palestine, let alone the ever-expanding Diaspora. Besides, in the self-definition of Jew and Christian and a parting of the ways, too little attention had been paid to the Jewish believers who never wanted to abandon their Jewish identity or heritage and who were marginalized from Jews and Christians alike. As Jerome said, because they want to be both Jews and Christians, they are neither. (The modern Messianic Jew


is aptly analogous.) They continued in their own social limbo far beyond the Bar Kokhba revolt, but in the end, they could not survive the force majeure of history. The conclusions of the symposium publication were an incentive for other scholars to correct and challenge. Many more studies followed, and in 2003 a collection was published under the pointed title, The Ways That Never Parted.5 The title reveals the current trend in response to the fork-in-the-road model of a parting of the ways. The volume also insists that life is far more complex than past portraits of Jewish Christian relations have allowed. One broad conclusion of these scholars is that Jews and Christians remained indecipherably intertwined well after the Bar Kokhba revolt. Numerous other studies support this, from which we have drawn liberally in this history. The fact that our Christian sources continue for centuries to confront the danger of Judaizing Christians means the Jews and Christians were not separate and isolated communities. For example, the imperial laws and ecclesiastical canons against intermarriage (the symbol par excellence of non-parting) and social intercourse were not given in a vacuum. The persistent effort by Christian and Jewish leaders to expose the differences between the religions is strong evidence that for many of the faithful, Jew or Christian, the ways had not parted. Then too, when the leading doctor of the church, Augustine, bishop of Hippo, asserted that although the church is the bride of Christ, the synagogue is his mother, he admitted to a fundamental kinship among Christians and Jews. When he defended Jewish obedience to the laws of Torah with his proof text, “Slay them not,” he singlehandedly safeguarded the trunk of Paul’s metaphorical olive tree. An incontrovertible parting of the ways would be an argument from silence: Jews and Christians had parted because they were no longer talking to, or against, each other. They were too far apart to hear or to care. If silence is the marker, then up to the end of our history in the seventh century, the ways never parted. But if the self-definition of Jews and Christians as being “other” is the marker, then the ways did part for most Jews and Christians soon after the Bar Kokhba revolt.6 Perhaps the picture drawn by Justin Martyr in his Dialogue with Trypho is our best authority for the Jewish and Christian understanding of a parting of the ways, back in the days when the ways were supposedly parting (ca. 138). While I was going about one morning in the walks of the Xystus, a certain man, with others in his company, having met me, said, “Hail, the philosopher!” And immediately after saying this, he turned around and walked along with me; his friends likewise followed him. . . . “But who are you, most excellent man?” I replied to him in jest. “Trypho, I am called, and I am a Hebrew of the circumcision, and having escaped from the war lately carried on there, I am spending my days in Greece, and chiefly in Corinth.” “And in what,” said I, “would you be profited by philosophy so much as by your own lawgiver and the prophets?” “Why not?” he replied. “Do not the philosophers turn every discourse on God? And do not questions continually arise to them about His unity and providence? Is not this truly the duty of philosophy, to investigate the Deity?”

Epilogue 701 “Assuredly,” said I, “so we too have believed.” And he, smiling gently, said, “Tell us your opinion of these matters, and what idea you entertain respecting God, and what your philosophy is.”

Trypho and Justin recognized each other as “other,” Jew and Christian, but in their dialogue they recognized a common bond as the basis for their otherness, the sacred Scripture of the one God. For them, Scripture was the truth upon which all philosophies turned and by which they were judged. What divided Justin and Trypho united them. And they were, after all, walking along the same road. Even those Jews and Christians not on the same road were probably still within earshot, and listening.7

Appendix A Jewish High Priests Following J. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas (2004), 97–99. The names of the early high priests are known, but their dates are conjectured based on the oldest son following his father; some unknown high priests may belong in the scheme.

Second Temple Jeshua (Joshua) Joiakim Eliashib Joiada Johanan Jaddua Onias I Simon I Eleazar (brother of Simon I) Manasseh (uncle of Simon I) Onias II (son of Simon I) Simon II Onias III Jason (usurper) Menelaus (usurper) Alcimus (usurper) Intersacerdotium (or unknown HP)

fl. ca. 530–490 fl. ca. 490–450 fl. ca. 450–430 fl. ca. 430–410 fl. ca. 410–370 fl. ca. 370–330 ca. 309–265 ca. 265–? ?–246 ?–? ?–ca. 221 ca. 221–204 ca. 204–175 175–172 172–162 162–160/59 159–152

Hasmonean Jonathan Simon John Hyrcanus Aristolulus Alexander Jannaeus

152–142 142–134 134–104 104–103 103–76


John Hyrcanus II Aristobulus II Antigonus

76–67; 63–40 67–63 40–37

Herodian and Roman appointments Ananel (Babylonian; Alexandrian?) Aristobulus III (last Hasmonean) Jesus (b. Phiabi) Simon (b. Boethus) Matthias (b. Theophilus) Joazar (b. Boethus) Eleazar (b. Boethus) Jesus (b. See) Ananus (b. Sethi) Ismael (b. Phiabi ) Eleazar (b. Ananus) Simon (b. Camithus ) Caiaphas (son-in-law of Ananus) Jonathan (b. Ananus) Theophilus (b. Ananus) Simon Cantheras (b. Boethus) Matthias (b. Ananus) Elionaeus (b. Cantheras) Joseph (b. Camei) Ananias (b. Nedebaeus) Ismael (b. Phiabi) Joseph Cabi (b. Simon Cantheras) Ananus (b. Ananus) Jesus (b. Damnaeus) Jesus (b. Gamaliel) Matthias (b. Theophilus) Phannias (b. Samuel)

37–35; 35–30? 35 30–24/22 24/22–5 5–4 4 b.c.e?–6 c.e. (twice) 4 b.c.e 4 b.c.e–? 6–15 15–16 16–17 17–18 18–36 36–37 37–? 41–42 42–43? 43?–44 44–48 48–59 59–61 61–62 62 (3 months) 62–63 63–64 64–66 67–end

Appendix B Ptolemies Following P. Green, Alexander to Actium (1990), 736–37. Ptolemy I Soter Ptolemy II Philadelphus Ptolemy III Euergetes Ptolemy IV Philopator Ptolemy V Epiphanes Ptolemy VI Philometor Ptolemy VII Neos Philopator Ptolemy VIII Euergetes II (Physcon) Ptolemy IX Philometor Soter II (Lathyrus) Ptolemy X Alexander I Ptolemy XI Alexander II Ptolemy XII Neo Dionysus (Auletes) Cleopatra VII Ptolemy XIII Ptolemy XIV Ptolemy XV Caesar (Caesarion)

305–283 283–246 246–221 221–204 204–180 180–145 145–144 170–163; 145–116 116–107; 87–81/0 107–103; 101–87 ca. 80 80–58; 55–51 51–30 51–47 47–43 36–30

Appendix C Seleucids Following P. Green, Alexander to Actium (1990), 734–35. Seleucus Nicator Antiochus I Soter Antiochus II Theos Seleucus II Callinicus Seleucus III Soter (Ceraunus) Antiochus III “the Great” Seleucus IV Philopator Antiochus IV Epiphanes Antiochus V Eupator Demetrius I Soter Alexander Balas (pretender) Demetrius II Nicator Antiochus VI Epiphanes Diodotus Tryphon (usurper) Antiochus VII Euergetes (Sidetes) Alexander Zabinas (pretender) Seleucus V Antiochus VIII (Grypos) Antiochus IX Philopater (Cyzicenus) Seleucus VI Epiphanes Nicator Antiochus X Eusebes Philopator Demetrius III Philopator Soter (Eukairos) Antiochus XI Epiphanes Philadelphus Philip I Philadelphus Antiochus XII Dionysus Antiochus XIII Asiaticus Philip II

305–281 281–261 261–246 246–226 226–223 223–187 187–175 175–164 164–162 162/161–151/150 151/0–145 145–ca. 140; 129–126/125 145–142/141 142/141–138 138–129 128–123 126/125 125–96 115–96 96–95 95–ca. 90/88 95–88 95 95–ca. 83 ca. 86–85 69–64 66/65–64/63

Appendix D Roman Emperors The list of Roman emperors is widely available. The names of Roman soldiers who assumed the imperial throne during the period of anarchy are limited to those mentioned in this history. Augustus Tiberius Gaius Caligula Claudius Nero Galba Otho Vitellius Vespasian Titus Domitian Nerva Trajan Hadrian Antoninus Pius Marcus Aurelius Lucius Verus (co-ruler) Commodus Pertinax Septimius Severus Caracalla Geta (co-ruler) Macrinus Elagabalus Alexander Severus

27 b.c.e.–14 c.e. 14–37 37–41 41–54 54–68 68–69 69 69 69–79 79–81 81–96 96–98 98–117 117–138 138–161 161–180 161–169 180–192 193 193–211 211–217 211–212 217–218 218–222 222–235


Anarchy Maximin “Thrax” Gordian I Gordian III Philip the Arab Decius Valerian Gallienus Claudius II Aurelian Tacitus Florian Probus Carus Numerian Carinus

235–238 238 238–244 244–249 249–251 253–259 259–268 268–270 270–275 275–276 276 276–282 282–283 283–284 283–285

Tetrarchy Diocletian Maximian Constantius I Galerius Severus Maxentius Maximinus Daia Licinius Constantine I the Great

284–305 286–305; 306–308 305–306 305–311 306–307 306–312 308–313 311–324 311–337

Christian Emperors (usurpers excluded) Constantine II Constantius II Constans Julian “the Apostate” Jovian Valentinian I Valens Gratian Valentinian II Theodosius I the Great Honorius Arcadius

337–340 337–361 337–350 361–363 363–364 364–375 364–378 375–383 375–392 379–395 395–423 395–408

East West West East & West West East

Theodosius II Valentinian III Marcian Avitus Majorian Leo I Severus Anthemius Olybrius Glycerius Julius Nepos Zeno Romulus (Augustulus)

Appendix D 709

408–450 425–455 450–457 455–456 457–461 457–474 461–465 467–472 472 473 473–475 474–491 475–476

Anastasius I 491–518 Justin I 518–527 Justinian 527–565 Justin II 565–578 Tiberius II 578–582 Maurice 582–602 Phocas 602–610 Heraclius 610–641

East West East West West East West West West West West East West Kings of Italy Odoacar Theoderic Athalaric Theodahat Vitigis Hildebad Totila

476–493 493–526 526–534 534–536 536–540 540–541 540–552

Appendix E Parthian Kings New Chronology (simplified) following A. D. H. Bivar, “The Political History of Iran under the Arsacids” in Cambridge History of Iran 3/1 (1983), Appendix I, p. 98–99. Arsaces I Arsaces II Phriapites Phraates I Mithridates I Phraates II Artabanus I Mithridates II Gotarzes I Orodes I Sinatruces Phraates III Mithridates III Orodes II Pacorus I Phraates IV Tiridates I Phraates V Orodes III Vonones I Artabanus II Tiridates II Cinnamus Vardanes Gotarzes II Vologeses I Vardanes II Vologeses II Pacorus II Artabanus III

247–217 217–191 191–176 176–171 171–139 139–128 127–124 124–90 90–81 81–78 78–71 71–58 before 53 58–39 39–38 40–32 32–27 3 b.c.e.–4 c.e. 4–6 8–12 10–38 36 37 39–45 43–50 50–76 or 79 55 77–78 77–86 79–80

Pacorus II Vologeses III Osroes Pacorus II Vologeses III Parthamaspates Mithridates IV Vologeses IV Vologeses V Vologeses VI Artabanus IV

Appendix E 711

92–95 104–107 108–127 ca. 110 111–146 117 ca. 130–147 147–190 190–207 207–221 ca. 213–224

Appendix F Sasanian Kings Following R. N. Frye, “The Political History of Iran under the Sasanians” in Cambridge History of Iran, 3/1 (1983), 178. Ardashir I Shapur I Hurmazd I Bahram I Bahram II Bahram III Narseh Hurmazd II Shapur II Ardashir II Shapur III Bahram IV Yazdgird I Bahram V Yazdgird II Hurmazd III Peroz Balash Kavad I Zamasp Kavad I Khusrau I Hurmazd IV Khusrau II Bahram VI Chobin (rebel) Khusrau II Kavad II Ardashir III Shahrvaraz

224–240 240–270 270–271 271–274 274–293 293 293–302 302–309 309–379 379–383 383–388 388–399 399–420 420–438 438–457 457–459 459–484 484–488 488–496 496–498 498–531 531–578 579–590 590 590–591 591–628 628 628–629 629

Borandukht Hurmazd V Yazdgird III

Appendix F 713

630–631 630–632 632–651

Appendix G Principal Rabbinic Sages The following list is highly selective, based on the sages mentioned in this history. For an alphabetical and nearly comprehensive list, see Dictionary of Ancient Rabbis, 423–40; for a similar list with assigned generations, see Steinsatlz, Introduction to the Talmud. The date categories are a flourit, and most sages were active somewhat before or after the generation assigned. Palestinian rabbis are usually addressed as Rabbi, Babylonian sages are usually addressed as Rav (Rab). The “son of ” (b.) in Hebrew is ben, and in Aramaic is bar. The Tannaim are always ben, while the Amoraim are generally known by bar.

Tannaim before 80 c.e. Gamaliel the Elder Hanina, captain of the priests Hillel Johanan b. Zakkai Shammai Simeon b. Gamaliel the Elder

Tannaim 80–120 Eleazar b. Azariah Eliezer b. Hyrcanus Joshua b. Hananiah Judah b. Bathyra

Tannaim 120–140 Akiba Ben Azzai Ben Zoma Hananiah b. Teradion

Ishmael b. Elisha Johanan b. Nuri Jose b. Kisma Jose the Galilean Judah b. Baba Tarfon

Tannaim 140–170 Eleazar b. Pedat Eleazar b. Shammua Jose b. Halafta Josiah Judah b. Ilai Meir Nathan the Babylonian Simeon b. Yohai

Transition Period 170–220 Ahai b. Josiah of Babylonia Hiyya Rabbah of Babylonia Judah Bathyra II Levi b. Sisi Simeon b. Halafta Simeon b. Manasseh

Amoraim 220–280 Palestine Hanina b. Hama Hoshaiah (Oshayah) the Elder Johanan b. Nappaha Joshua b. Levi Simeon b. Lakish Simlai Yannai the Elder Babylonia Kahana Mar Samuel Rav (Abba Arikha) Shila of Nehardea

Appendix G 715


Amoraim 280–320 Palestine Abbahu of Caesarea Hiyya II b. Abba Simeon b. Abba Ze’era Babylonia Geniva Hisda Huna the Babylonian Huna b. Hiyya Judah b. Ezekiel Nahman b. Jacob Rabbah b. Rav Huna Sheshet

Amoraim (320–360) Palestine Tanhuma b. Abba Babylonia Rabbah b. Nahmani Joseph b. Hiyya Abaye Rava b. Joseph Aha b. Jacob Nahman b. Isaac Babylonia (360–420) Amemar II Ashi Dimi of Nehardea Hama of Nehardea Papa b. Hanan Ravina I Zebid Babylonia (420–500) Aha of Difti Gebiha of Be Katil

Idi b. Abin II Mar b. Rav Ashi (Tabyomi) Nahman b. Rav Huna Rabba Tosfa’a Rafram II Ravina II Rihumai Sama b. Rava Yerirar Yose

Appendix G 717

Appendix H Jewish Patriarchs and Exilarchs All dates are approximate.

Jewish Patriarchs Gamaliel II Interregnum and war Simeon b. Gamaliel II Judah I ha-Nasi (“the Prince”) Gamaliel III Judah II Nesiah Interregnum / Gamaliel “Zuga”? Judah III Nesiah Gamaliel IV Hillel II (b. Judah III) Gamaliel V Judah IV Gamaliel VI

80–120 120–140 140–175 175–225 225–235 235–260 260–275 275–305 305–320 320–365 365–385 385–400 400–425/429

Jewish Exilarchs Following L. Schiffman, From Text to Tradition (1991), 217. All dates are approximate; those mentioned in this history are listed in the index. Huna I (first known) Mar Ukba I Huna II Nathan I Mar Ukba II Nehemiah Mar Ukba III Huna III

170–210 210–240 249–260 260–270 270–290 290–313 313–337 337–350

Abba Nathan II Kahana I Huna IV b. Nathan Mar Zutra I Kahana II Huna V (executed by king) Interregnum? Huna VI Mar Zutra II Ahunai Hofnai Naninai Interregnum / Unknown Bustenai

Appendix H 719

350–370 370–400 400–415 415–442 442–455 455–465 465–470 470–484 484–508 508–520 ?–560 560–580 580–590 590–? ?–670

Appendix I Bishops and Patriarchs of Major Roman Cities The lists of bishops are highly selective, covering only those mentioned in this history. The full lists of bishops are widely available, though dates for the early ones are largely conjectural. Where available, I follow Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society, 717–19.

ROME Clement Anicetus Victor I Zephyrinus Callistus Fabian Liberius Damasus Ursinus (rival bishop) Siricius Anastasius I Innocent I Boniface I Celestine Leo I Simplicius Felix III (II) Gelasius I Anastasius II Symmachus Laurentius (rival bishop) Hormisdas John I Silverius

fl. ca. 95–96 ca. 154–166 189–198 198–217 217–222 236–250 352–366 366–384 366–367 384–399 399–401 401–417 418–422 422–432 440–461 468–483 483–492 492–496 496–498 498–514 498–499, 501–506 514–523 523–526 536–537

Vigilius Pelagius I Benedict I Pelagius II Gregory I Honorius I Severinus

Appendix I 721

537–555 556–561 575–579 579–590 590–604 625–638 638–640

ALEXANDRIA Demetrius Dionysius Athanasius (many exiles) Gregory (rival Arian) George (rival Arian) Theophilus Cyril Dioscorus (Monophysite, exiled) Proterius (killed in riot) Timothy Ailouros (Monophysite) Timothy III (Monophysite) Theodosius (Monophysite) John the Almsgiver (Melkite) Cyrus (Melkite) Benjamin (Monophysite)

ca. 189–233 247–264 328–373 341–344 357–361 384–412 412–544 444–551 451–457 457–560; 475–477 517–535 535–566 610–619 631–643 623–ca. 667

ANTIOCH Ignatius (martyred) Theophilus (apologist) Babylas (martyred) Demetrianus (exiled to Persia) Eustathius Eudoxius (later of Constantinople) Euzoius (rival Arian) Meletius (rival Nicene) Paulinus (rival Nicene) Vitalis (rival by Apollinaris) Flavian John I Domnus II (deposed) Severus (deposed) Gregory Athanasius

fl. 96–107 fl. 170 fl. 240–250 fl. 260 ca. 324–327 357–360 361–376 360–381 362–382 376–? 381–404 428–441 441–449 512–518 571–594 597–630


CONSTANTINOPLE Eusebius (from Nicomedia) Eudoxius (from Antioch) John Chrysostom (died in exile) Nestorius (died in exile) Proclus Flavian (deposed) Anatolius Acacius John II John IV Sergius

339–342 360–370 398–404 428–431 434–446 446–449 449–458 472–489 518–520 582–595 610–638

JERUSALEM Macarius Maximus Cyril (several exiles) Juvenal Theodosius (rival of Juvenal) Zacharias (exiled to Persia) Modestus Sophronius

314–333 333–348 348–387 422–458 451–457 609–631 632–633 634–638

CTESIPHON (CHURCH OF PERSIA) Following Baum and Winkler, The Church of the East (2003), 173. Papa bar Aggai Simon bar Sabba’e Sahdost Barbahemin Isaac Yahballaha Dadisho Babowai Akak Babai Shila (Silas) Narses and Elisha (rivals) Paul (2 months) Aba “the Great” Joseph (deposed)

fl. 315–326 d. 341 341–342 343–346 399–410 415–420 421–456 457–484 485–495/496 497–502 503–523 524–537 539 540–552 552–567

Ezekiel Ishoyahb I of Arzun Sabrisho Ishoyahb II of Gdala

Appendix I 723

570–582 582–596 596–604 628–646

Appendix J Ancient Historians Only the historical works of the authors used in this history are mentioned. Dates of historians follow, where possible, the Oxford Classical Dictionary, and secondarily the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. Dates following a book are the approximate years covered. Herodotus (ca. 484–430/20), Greek from Halicarnassus in southwest Asia Minor. History of Greco-Persian Wars (499–479), including much historical and geographical information. Philo of Alexandria (ca. 20 b.c.e.–50 c.e.), Jewish philosopher of Alexandria. Against Flaccus, Embassy to Gaius (38–40), both written from personal experience. Josephus (37–ca. 100 c.e.), Jewish priest and intellectual, pensioned in the Flavian dynasty. Jewish War (171 b.c.e.–73 c.e.), Jewish Antiquities (600 b.c.e.–75 c.e.). Tacitus (ca. 56–120), Roman orator and public official. Annals (14–68) only portions extant, Histories (69–96); deal with the imperial reigns from a somewhat anti-imperial view, and offers the most extensive Latin view of the Jews. Suetonius (69–ca. 122), Roman biographer. Lives of the Caesars (Julius to Domitian), filled with bits of gossip. Arrian (ca. 86–160), Greek historian and philosopher from Nicomedia, governor of Cappadocia under Hadrian. Anabasis of Alexander, among the most important records of the wars of Alexander the Great. Appian of Alexandria ( fl. 2d c.), Greek administrator from Alexandria, and later Roman lawyer and procurator. Roman History (Republic era to 117), partially lost, covers the peoples conquered by Rome and his personal experience in the Diaspora Revolt. Hegesippus (ca. 130–ca. 190), Christian historiographer (perhaps of Jewish origin from Palestine). “Memoirs of the Acts of the Church,” extant only in fragments preserved by Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, but contains oral traditions going back to the first century. Dio Cassius (ca. 164–ca. 235), often called Cassius Dio, Greek senator from Nicaea, Bithynia, and later Roman administrator. Roman History (foundation to 229), partly lost, but epitomes preserved by John Zonaras (12th c.) and John Xiphilinus (11th c.).

Appendix J 725

Eusebius of Caesarea (ca. 260–ca. 340), Christian bishop, librarian, and historian. Ecclesiastical History (ca. 30–321), the principle history of Christianity from Jesus to Constantine. Ammianus Marcellinus (ca. 330–395), Greek military officer from Antioch, Syria, and remained a Hellene (pagan) despite serving under Christian emperors. Roman History (354–378), consisting of the surviving 18 out of an original 31 books, which began around 96. Philostorgius (ca. 386–ca. 439), Arian Christian from Cappadocia Secunda. Ecclesiastical History (ca. 300–430) preserved in epitome by Photius (9th c.), offers a rare Arian view of Christian history. Orosius ( fl. early 5th c.), Christian presbyter from Braga, Spain. History against the Pagans (from founding of Rome to 417 c.e.), commissioned by Augustine to explain sack of Rome; integrates secular and ecclesiastical history. Socrates “Scholasticus” (ca. 380–450), Greek Christian lawyer from Constantinople. Ecclesiastical History (305–439), designed to continue history of Eusebius, and is known for its objectivity. Sozomen ( fl. 400–440), Christian from Palestine, worked as a lawyer in Constantinople. Ecclesiastical History (323–425), relies extensively on Socrates Scholasticus, but offers valuable information on Armenians, Arabs, and Goths. Theodoret of Cyrrhus (ca. 393–ca. 466), Christian theologian from Antioch, Syria, and later bishop of Cyrrhus, Syria. Religious History (History of the Monks of Syria), Ecclesiastical History (306–451), which contains information on many original documents. Moses Khorenats‘i ( fl. 5th c.), obscure Armenian historian. History of the Armenians (origins to 439). Zosimus ( fl. early 6th c.), Greek historian and Hellene (pagan). New History (Augustus to 410), partially lost, gives significant information for 270–410, and a non-Christian point of view. Evagrius Scholasticus (ca. 536–600), Christian lawyer from Syria. Ecclesiastical History (431–594) meant to continue the work of Eusebius and his followers. Jordanes ( fl. 6th c.), Christian. Romanan (summary of Roman history), Getica (history of Goths). John Malalas (ca. 490–ca. 575), Christian civil servant in Antioch and Constantinople. Chronographia (creation to 563) offers important information from the reign of Zeno through to Justinian. Gregory of Tours (538–ca. 594), born into an important senatorial family in Gaul, with a long heritage in the Gallic church, made bishop of Tours in 573. History of the Franks (Creation to 591), provides valuable information on the Franks (Merovingian kingdom). Procopius of Caesarea ( fl. 6th c.), from Caesarea, Palestine, served as advisor in the military of Emperor Justinian. History of the Wars (527–553), gives us firsthand knowledge of the wars of Justinian, with valuable digressions; Buildings, geographical information; Secret History, a critical view of Justinian’s rule. John of Ephesus (ca. 507–586), born near Amid, Mesopotamia, became the Monophysite bishop of Ephesus. Ecclesiastical History, begun with Julius Caesar, of


which only the last third survives (571–585), gives a Monophysite view of the Christian church. Theophylact Simocatta (ca. 570–ca. 630), Greek rhetor from Egypt, served in the court of Heraclius. History (582–602), provides most of our information on the reign of Maurice. George of Pisidia (d. ca. 631/4), Court poet of Heraclius. His poems trumpet the successes of Heraclius against the Sasanians, usually attributing victories to divine favor. Sebeos (ca. 600–after 661), traditional name assigned to an unknown historian. The Armenian History Attributed to Sebeos (590–655), offers valuable information on the Armenian people in his day. John of Nikiu (ca 630–ca. 700), Coptic bishop of Nikiu. His Chronicle, preserved only in parts, describes the early years of Muslim hegemony in Egypt. Theophanes Confessor (d. ca. 818), Byzantine monk. Chronicle of Byzantine and Near Eastern History (248–813), contains valuable information on the history of the Near East during the reign of Heraclius. Ibn Hisham (d. ca. 833), editor of Ibn Ishaq’s (d. 767) Sirat rasul Allah, as The Life of Muhammad, which offers many of the earliest traditions on Muhammad and his relations with Jews and Christians. Tabari, Abu Ja‘far Muhammad b. Jarir al- (ca. 839–923), Muslim scholar from Iran, later taught and wrote in Baghdad. History of Prophets and Kings provides the most significant history of Islam up to his time. Agapius of Mendibj (died after 941), also known as Mahbub ibn Qustantin, bishop of Hierapolis in Euphratesia. A universal history, Katib al-‘Unvan (The Book of the Title), from creation down to his own times, but the extant portion goes only to 776.

Anonymous Histories Historia Augusta (4th c.), also called Scriptores Historiae Augustae, a collection of biographies by multiple authors, named and anonymous, on the reigns of emperors and usurpers from Hadrian to Numerian (117–284), although missing the years 244–259. The value of the accounts diminishes after Septimius Severus. Panegyrici Latini (5th c.), generally known as the XII Panegyrici Latini, a collection of public orations in praise (panegyrics) of the emperors Maximian, Constantius I, Constantine, Julian, and Theodosius I (289–389), by multiple orators, both named and anonymous, and one by Pliny for Trajan (100). The Chronicle of Edessa (ca. 540), a work in Syriac listing important events and people associated with the city of Edessa from the second to the sixth centuries. Chronicon Paschale (7th c.), summary of world history from the perspective of Constantinople, based on earlier histories, but including contemporary information during reign of Heraclius.

Endnotes Notes to Part 1 1. ANET 265; Herodotus, Histories 2.142–144. 2. Marc Van De Mieroop, History of the Ancient Near East, ca. 3000–323 B.C. (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2004), 117. 3. “Hymn of Victory of Mer-ne-Ptah (The ‘Israel Stela’),” translated by John A. Wilson ANET 376–78. 4. 2 Kgs 17:6. 5. 2 Kgs 21:23–22:1. 6. H. W. F. Saggs, The Greatness That Was Babylon (London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1988), 111. 7. Sargon, 2 Kgs 17:6; Esarhaddon, Ezra 4:2, 9–10. 8. Israel Finkelstein and Neil Asher Silberman, The Bible Unearthed: Archaeology’s New Vision of Ancient Israel and the Origin of Its Sacred Texts (New York: Touchstone, 2002), 280–81. For the remaining narrative of Judah we rely on the conclusions of Finkelstein and Silberman. 9. 2 Kgs 22:15–20. 10. 2 Kgs 23:3 njb 11. Finkelstein and Silverman, Bible Unearthed, 282. 12. Winton D. Thomas, Documents from the Old Testament Times (New York: Thomas Nelson, 1958; repr., New York: Harper, 1961), 76. 13. Jer 1:4–10 njb. 14. 1 Kgs 2:26. 15. 2 Kgs 22:3–14; Jer 29:3. 16. Jer 1:9; 15:16 njb; 16:1–3. 17. Jer 3:12–14; 31:1–14. 18. Jer 3:1–2, 20. 19. Jer 6:16–17. 20. Jer 11:18–12:6. 21. Jer 26:4–6 njb. 22. Deut 18:20. 23. Jer 46:2–12. 24. Jer 46:17. 25. 2 Kgs 24:12. 26. 10,000 (2 Kgs 24:14); 8,000 (2 Kgs 24:16); 3,023 (Jer 52:28). 27. Jer 24. 28. Babylonian Chronicle 49:34–39. 29. Jer 27–29. 30. Jer 27:12–15 njb.

728 Notes to pages 24–35 31. Jer 28:2–4 njb. 32. Jer 28:11 njb. 33. Jer 29:7 njb. 34. Jer 51:59–64. 35. Ezek 1:1–3. 36. Isa 37:35. 37. Josephus, Ant. 10.150–154. 38. 2 Chr 35:1–3; 36:10. 39. 4 Ezra 10:22; BT Yoma 53b. 40. Jer 3:16. 41. 2 Macc 2:2–3. 42. M Shekalim 6:1–2; BT Yoma 53b–54a. 43. Jer 39:11–14; 40:2–6. 44. 2 Kgs 25:23; Jer 40:8. 45. Jer 41:1–4. 46. Zech 7:5; 8:19. 47. Jer 52:30. 48. Josephus, Ant. 10.181–182. 49. Ezek 33:24–29. The impact of Ezekiel will be retained by his followers, the “school of Ezekiel,” who will probably be the ideological stimulus for the eventual migration of Jews from Babylonia to Judaea under Ezra and Nehemiah in the following century. 50. Jer 43:12. 51. Jer 44. 52. Jer 44:1, 15; 46:1; Ezek 29:14; Isa 11:11. 53. CAH 3/2:237–38. 54. CAH 3/2:239–40; W. G. Lambert, “Nebuchadrezzar King of Justice,” Iraq 27 (1965): 1–11. 55. Ezek 3:15; Ezra 2:59; 8:17. 56. For an imaginative historical reconstruction of life in exile, see L. Sandgren, “Figurines of Clay,” in The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 5–20. 57. Ezek 1:2; 33:21; 40:1. 58. Michael David Coogan, West Semitic Personal Names in the Murašû Documents (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press for Harvard Semitic Museum, 1976). 59. Jer 52:31–32. 60. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.146–147, citing Berossus. 61. Herodotus, Histories 1.75–84; Babylonian Chronicle 7. 62. Isa 45:1–7 njb. 63. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.150–153; the stages of Cyrus’s victory are laid out in Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: History of the Persian Empire (trans. Peter T. Daniels; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2002), 40–44. 64. Cyrus Cylinder, W. W. Hallo and K. L. Younger, Context of Scripture, vol. 2: Monumental Inscriptions from the Biblical World (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 315; Babylonian Chronicle 7.21–22. 65. 2 Chr 36:23. 66. Ezra 1:8. 67. H. G. M. Williamson, Ezra-Nehemiah (WBC 16; Dallas: Word, 1985), 19; Ezra 1:8–11; 5:14–17. First Esdras refers to him as Sanabassar, while the Septuagint has Sasabasar. Josephus calls him Abassaros (Ant. 11.11), with variants Sanabassaros (11.93), but also equates him with Zerubbabel (11.13) and later confuses him with Shetharbozenai of Ezra 5:6, governor of Syria and Phoenicia, a Persian official of foreign origin (Ant. 11.101). 68. Ezra 5:14–17. 69. Herodotus, Histories 1.201–216 (trans. A. D. Godley, LCL). 70. Ibid., 3.30.

Notes to pages 38–44 729

71. J. M. Cook, The Persians (London: The Folio Society, 2002; repr., The Persian Empire [London: J. M. Dent, 1983]), 82; Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander, 49–61. 72. 2 Kgs 25:18–25; 1 Chr 6:14–15 [mt 5:39–40]. 73. 1 Chr 6:1–15 [mt 5:27–41]. 74. Hag 1:1–15; Ezra 3:1–6. 75. Ezra 3:12–13. 76. Hag 2:6–7. 77. Zech 3:1–2; the first mention of Satan in the history of Judaism. 78. Zech 4. 79. Robert T. Anderson and Terry Giles, The Keepers: An Introduction to the History and Culture of the Samaritans (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002), 22–24; Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander, 587. On the bad blood, see Josephus, Ant. 11.114–119; Samaritan tradition speaks of “Ezra the Cursed,” Abu’l-Fath, Kitab Al-Tarikh, 98, in The Keepers, 22. 80. Ezra 6:10; Cyrus likewise appealed to cultic support for himself and his sons from the resettled deities, Cyrus Cylinder, ANET 316; Williamson, Ezra-Nehemiah, 82. 81. Ezra 6:19–22. 82. CAH 3/2:439. 83. Hag 2:21–23 njb. 84. Jer 22:24–30. 85. R. L. Smith, Micah–Malachi (WBC 32; Waco, Tex.: Word, 1985), 162. 86. Zech 7:1–7. 87. Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers, 9.51 (trans. R. D. Hicks, LCL). 88. Herodotus, Histories 6.106–117. 89. Oded Lipschits, “Demographic Changes in Judah,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period (ed. Oded Lipschits and Joseph Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 323–76. 90. Lester Grabbe, Ezra-Nehemiah (London: Routledge, 1998). 91. I follow the historical and textual reconstruction of Ezra-Nehemiah by H. G. M. Williamson, Ezra-Nehemiah (WBC 16; Dallas: Word, 1985). See also the recent analysis of Joseph Blenkinsopp, Judaism: the First Phase. The Place of Ezra and Nehemiah in the Origins of Judaism (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2009). 92. Ezra 7:25–26. The phrase “law of your god and the law of the king” can be and therefore is interpreted in two ways: either as two bodies of law, one Jewish (Torah) and the other Persian, or one law twice sanctioned (by God and by king), that is, “the law of your god which is also the law of the king.” In either case, Ezra is granted the authority to implement and enforce Jewish law, which means the interpretation of whatever laws fall under the “law of your god.” The phrase “all such as know the laws of your god; and those who do not know them, you shall teach,” probably means Jews and non-Jews, such that Ezra is empowered to enforce laws on the entire population. It seems clear that the law Ezra enforced is very similar to our present Pentateuch, although there are differences in the details, and some laws are not found in the Pentateuch, which may suggest our extant text of Deuteronomy is a later redaction of the laws known to Ezra. Nor can we exclude the possibility that the phrasing of the letter has been reworked by a later redactor, perhaps the author(s) of 1 and 2 Chronicles, since the “law of your god and the law of the king” is strikingly similar to the “matters of the Lord . . . and . . . matters of the king” in the reconstructed judicial reform of Jehoshaphat (2 Chr 19:8–11). See Joseph Blenkinsopp, “Was the Pentateuch the Constitution of the Jewish Ethnos?” along with other articles in Persia and Torah: The Theory of Imperial Authorization of the Pentateuch (ed. James W. Watts; Atlanta: SBL, 2001); Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: History of the Persian Empire (trans. Peter T. Daniels; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2002), 510–11, stresses the fact that by the king’s letter “local customs are included in the general category of ‘royal law,’ ” enforceable on all Judaeans within the Persian Trans-Euphrates province. 93. The innovative reform of Jehoshaphat invented by the Chronicler makes the distinction with precise terms. The king instructs his high priest and governor: “Amariah the chief priest is over you in all matters of the Lord; and Zebadiah the son of Ishmael, the

730 Notes to pages 44–52 governor of the house of Judah, in all the king’s matters; and the Levites will serve you as officers” (2 Chr 19:11). 94. Neh 8:13–18. 95. Ezra 9:1–2. The term “holy race,” literally, “holy seed,” is perhaps first used here but draws upon concepts such as “a people holy to your God . . . chosen out of all the peoples that are on the face of the earth” (Deut 7:6) and the promise that the seed of Abraham would become a great nation, as the instrument of blessing to the whole earth (Gen 12:1–2). While the goal is primarily separation from idolaters, the emphasis is clearly on the racial distinction of the seed of Abraham. The biblical heritage of the Jews is replete with admissions of intermarriage, beginning with Abraham’s marriages to two Arab wives, Joseph’s marriage to an Egyptian, Moses’ marriages to two Midianite (Arab) wives, David’s marriage to a Canaanite, Solomon’s marriages to many, and so on with other peoples; see Blenkinsopp, Judaism: the First Phase, 63–71. 96. Ezra 9:10–12; this injunction is not found in our current texts of Deuteronomy or Joshua or any of the Prophets but may be traced to Deut 7:1–3 and other passages such as Deut 23:3–7. While Deuteronomy does ban marriages with certain groups in proximity to Israel, the Torah of Moses never bans marriages to non-Israelites per se. 97. The difficult decision to annul marriages is dealt with in “Uriah’s Dilemma,” in L. Sandgren, Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 21–35. 98. Josephus, Ant. 11.158. 99. Louis Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews (7 vols.; New York: Simon & Schuster, 1961), 4:358; 6:446. 100. Ezra 4:12. 101. Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander, 577–79. 102. The passages comprising his memoir are generally agreed upon: 1:1–4, 11; 2:1–20; 3:33–4:17; 5:1–19; 7:1–5; 12:31–32, 37–40; 13:4–17, 19–25, 27–31. 103. Neh 6:7. 104. Neh 6:18. 105. Neh 5:1–13. 106. Neh 6:15. 107. Neh 11:2. 108. Sir 49:13. 109. Blenkinsopp, Judaism: the First Phase, 117–88. 110. Letter of Aristeas 13, although it is uncertain whether Psamtik I (664–610 b.c.e.) or Psamtik II (595–589 b.c.e.) is meant, since both fought against Ethiopia and Jewish mercenaries along with Greeks and others were active during both reigns. 111. Arthur Ernest Cowley, Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C., Edited, with Translation and Notes (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1923), nos. 30–31. 112. Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, no. 14. 113. Jer 43–44; Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, no. 44; Bezalel Porten, Archives of Elephantine: The Life of an Ancient Jewish Military Colony (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1968), 176–79. 114. Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, no. 22. 115. Clermont-Ganneau, no. 152, in Joseph Modrezejewski, The Jews of Egypt: From Rameses II to Emperor Hadrian (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1995), 37. 116. 2 Kgs 21:5–16. 117. Bezalel Porten, “Settlement of Jews at Elephantine and Arameans at Syene,” in Judah and Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period (ed. Oded Lipschits and Joseph Blenkinsopp; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 451–70. 118. Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, no. 21. 119. Neh 7:2. 120. Deut 16:9. 121. Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, no. 38.


122. Peter Schäfer, Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1997), 121–35. For a dramatic retelling of the story at Elephantiné, see L. Sandgren, “Great Is Yah of Elephantiné,” in The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 36–51. 123. Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, nos. 30, 31. 124. Ibid., nos. 31–33. 125. Isa 49:12; Papyrus A4.10:6, in Bezalel Porten, Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt Newly Copied, Edited, and Translated into Hebrew and English by Bezalel Porten and Ada Yardeni (Winona Lake, Ind.: distributed by Eisenbrauns, 1986–); on Isa 49:12, mt has Sinim, but the rsv gives Syene (which may be read Syenians), a corrected reading from 1QIsaa. 126. Isa 11:11. 127. Isa 19:18–19. 128. Josephus, Ant. 11.297–301. 129. The identification of Bagoses with the Bahogi (Bigvai) of the Elephantiné archives is supported by a second identification of the Jonathan of Nehemiah with the Johanan of the archives (scribal error of Neh 12:10), whom Josephus calls Joannes, and thus the incident is dated around the year 400; see James C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priest after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), 60–62. 130. Arrian, Alexander 3.6.5. 131. Diodorus, Library of History 17.5.3–6; Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: History of the Persian Empire (trans. Peter T. Daniels; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2002), 769–76. 132. Arrian, Alexander 3.2.1–2. 133. Robin Lane Fox, Alexander the Great (New York: Dial, 1974), 210–11; Arrian, Alexander 6.19.4–5. 134. Fox, Alexander, 222; Peter Schäfer, The History of the Jews in Antiquity: The Jews of Palestine from Alexander the Great to the Arab Conquest (New York: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1995), 4–5; Quintus Curtius Rufus, 4.8.34:9–11, in GLAJJ 1:448. 135. Josephus, Ant. 11.317–319 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 136. A similar account is found in the BT Yoma 69a. On the potential historicity of the visit of Alexander to Jerusalem, see Ralf Marcus, Appendix C, LCL 6:512–32. For a dramatic retelling of the incident, see L. Sandgren, “The Foresight of Tobiah,” in The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 52–68. 137. Josephus, Ant. 11.306–345. 138. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.192. 139. Arrian, Alexander 5.25–29. 140. Arrian, Alexander 7.26.3 (trans. P. A. Brunt, LCL). 141. Josephus, Ant. 12.2 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 142. Josephus, Ant. 12.6–7; Ag. Ap. 1.209–212; Letter of Aristeas 12–14 gives the inflated numbers; cf. Appian, Syriaca 50.252, in GLAJJ 2:179. 143. Josephus, Ant. 12.119. 144. Zech 9:13 nrsv. 145. Peter Schäfer, The History of the Jews in Antiquity: The Jews of Palestine from Alexander the Great to the Arab Conquest (New York: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1995), 13–16; the taxes are deduced from the relief of taxes under Antiochus III, listed in Josephus, Ant. 12.142–146. 146. This Ezekias on the coins is not the chief priest described in Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.186–194; James C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), 118–19, 123. 147. “Antiochus Soter,” translated by A. Leo Oppenheim (ANET 317). 148. Josephus, Ant. 12.130 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 149. 2 Macc 8:20; according to Jonathan Goldstein, 2 Maccabees (AB 41A; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1983), 322, “Polyaenus wrote with precision. He has Hierax fleeing from

732 Notes to pages 71–82 his brother’s armies into Mesopotamia and thence into Armenia; the direction is consistently northwestward. We may thus infer that Seleucus’ forces defeated Hierax and his Galatian mercenaries in Babylonia, and that the battle here figured in the events.” 150. Josephus, Ant. 12.147–153. 151. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.186–194. 152. Moses Hadas, Aristeas to Philocrates (New York: Harper Brothers, 1951), 29–32. 153. 1 Macc 12:20–23; Josephus, Ant. 12.226–227; Hecataeus, On the Egyptians, in GLAJJ 1:7–28; Jonathan Goldstein, 1 Maccabees (AB 41; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976) 456–62; VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas, 124–37; Pergamene ancestors described by Josephus, Ant. 14.247–255; Arabs descended from Abraham through Ishmael noted in Ant. 2.32; much later, the Armenian historian Moses Khorenats‘i (fl. fifth century or later) claims the Parthian ancestry goes back to Abraham. 154. Josephus, Ant. 12.43. 155. Recently, however, VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas, 137–57, has made a strong case for Simon I, and his argument has the advantage of placing Simon the Just at a time when the high priesthood was at its apogee under Ptolemaic rule. 156. Josephus, Ant. 12.160. 157. Naphtali Lewis, trans., in Catalogue général des antiquités égyptiennes du Musée du Caire, no. 59075; reprinted in Heritage: Civilization and the Jews: Source Reader (ed. W. W. Hallo, D. Ruderman, and M. Stanislawski; New York: Prager, 1984), 52. 158. Josephus, Ant. 12.160–163 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 159. Dov Gera, Judaea and Mediterranean Politics 219 to 161 B.C.E. (Leiden: Brill, 1998), 36–38. 160. Xenophanes, frags. 11, 15, 23 in James Adam, The Religious Teachers of Greece (Reference Book Publishers, 1965; based on the Gifford Lectures, 1904–1906), 200–201. 161. Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers 9.19 (trans. R. D. Hicks, LCL). 162. Aristotle, Meteorologica A5. 986B 24; in Adam, Religious Teachers, 209. 163. Diogenes Laertius, Lives 9.22 (trans. R. D. Hicks, LCL). 164. Diogenes Laertius, Lives 9.74 (trans. R. D. Hicks, LCL). 165. Diogenes Laertius, Lives 9.69. 166. Diogenes Laertius, Lives 7.135–136 (trans. R. D. Hicks, LCL). 167. Exod 15:3; ish milkhama; the hymn is considered to be among the most ancient portions of the Hebrew Bible. 168. Deut 32:8–9 nrsv: “When the Most High [‘elyon] apportioned the nations, when he divided humankind, he fixed the boundaries of the peoples according to the number of the gods; the Lord’s [YHWH’s] own portion was his people, Jacob his allotted share.” The nrsv incorporates the most ancient text of Deuteronomy found among the Dead Sea Scrolls, which reads “the number of the sons of god [bene ’el]” in place of the mt, which reads “the number of the sons of Israel [bene yisra’el]”. This more difficult reading of the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS) is supported by lxx, “the number of the angels of God,” which would have been an attempt to explain the difficult “sons of God” in the Hebrew, by angelic beings. The nrsv correctly interprets the bene ’el to be gods of the pantheon of ‘elyon, of which YHWH is one god, and whose allotted share was the people of Israel. 169. Isa 45:21–22. 170. Exod 19:5. 171. Plato, Phaedrus 275D; my attention was drawn to this passage by William M. Schniedewind, How the Bible Became a Book: The Textualization of Ancient Israel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 14, whose treatment of the origins of the Hebrew Bible is highly recommended. 172. Josh 24:24–28 njb. 173. 2 Kgs 10:31. 174. Ezra 7:6; Neh 8:2–3. 175. Deut 27:3, 8; 31:9, 24, 26. 176. Josh 1:8; 8:31, 34; 23:6; 2 Kgs 22:8.


177. John Van Seters, In Search of History: Historiography in the Ancient World and the Origins of Biblical History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983; repr., Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 354–62. 178. Jer 31:31–34, my translation. The Hebrew behind the phrase “though I ruled them like a husband” is uncertain, translated variously, but that seems to be the gist of it. Torah, which means instruction, or teaching, better retains the intimacy of marriage and is more apt than law in the context of it being written on the heart, or internalized. 179. Jer 36:4–6; the poetic oracles are assumed to be from Jeremiah, while the prose narrative is from his scribe Baruch or a later editor. 180. So H. G. M. Williamson, The Book Called Isaiah (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994). 181. Isa 40:1–2. 182. Isa 44:24–45:22. 183. Mark Smith, The Origins of Biblical Monotheism: Israel’s Polytheistic Background and the Ugaritic Texts (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 154. 184. Isa 42:1–4; 49:1–6; 50:4–9; 52:13–53:12. 185. Hans-Jürgen Hermission, “The Fourth Servant Song in the Context of Second Isaiah,” in The Suffering Servant: Isaiah 53 in Jewish and Christian Sources (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2004), 16. 186. One scholar, Gabriel Boccaccini, Middle Judaism: Jewish Thought, 300 B.C.E. to 200 C.E. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991) calls this era Middle Judaism and breaks down the currents of thought into Zadokite Judaism, Enochic Judaism, and Sapiential Judaism. Although this accentuates the differences at the expense of the essence, the labels are informative of social realities and easy to follow. 187. For example, Isa 65:2–3. 188. Also called the Ethiopic Apocalypse of Enoch, trans. E. Isaac, OTP 1:5–89. 189. Gen 5:21–24. 190. Gen 6:1–4. 191. K. L. Sparks, Ancient Texts for the Study of the Hebrew Bible (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2005), 2; James C. VanderKam, “Prophecy and Apocalyptics in the Ancient Near East,” CANE (1995), 2083–94, here 2091; James C. VanderKam, Enoch and the Growth of an Apocalyptic Tradition (Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1984), 33–52. 192. 1 En 1:1. 193. The Nephilim, for example, show up again during the days of Moses (Num 13:33), and mighty heroes of old in Sheol are mentioned by Ezekiel (32:27). 194. George W. E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature between the Bible and the Mishnah (2d ed.; Philadelphia: Fortress, 2005), 48. 195. Theophrastus gives the earliest use of the Greek word “Jews” (Ioudaioi); GLAJJ 1:10, 13–17. 196. Clement of Alexandria, Stomateis (Miscellanies) 1.15.72.5; GLAJJ 1:46. 197. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.176–183 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 198. Prov 11:19. 199. Prov 8:22–23. 200. Prov 9:10. 201. Eccl 12:9. 202. Martin A. Shields, The End of Wisdom: A Reappraisal of the Historical and Canonical Function of Ecclesiastes (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2007). 203. Isa 27:13; 57:13. 204. Ezek 45 and 48 describe the ideal layout of the Holy Land. 205. Philo, Embassy 281–283. 206. Ezek 8:1; 14:1. 207. Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years (2d ed.; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005). Another view is that it served as a substitute for the temple. See

734 Notes to pages 94–108 D. D. Binder, Into the Temple Courts: The Place of the Synagogue in the Second Temple Period (Atlanta: SBL, 1999). 208. Assembly of the Hasidim (1 Macc 2:42); gathering of scribes (7:12); great assembly (14:28). 209. Philo, Moses 2.25–44, here 37 (trans. F. H. Colson, LCL); Josephus, Ant. 12.111– 118; Justin, Apology 1.31; Irenaeus, Against Heresies 3.21.2; see Everett F. Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1993), 408. 210. Ben Sira prologue, emphasis added. 211. Exod 22:28 [mt & lxx 22:27]; the King James Version followed the Septuagint. 212. Josephus will make a strong point of this later, Ant. 4.207; Ag. Ap. 2.237.

Notes to Part 2 1. The books found in the collection known as the Apocrypha, 1 and 2 Maccabees; Josephus, Ant.12. 2. Josephus, Ant. 12.138–144; Marcus, Appendix D in LCL 7:743–66. 3. Josephus, Ant. 12.129 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 4. Peter Schäfer, The History of the Jews in Antiquity: The Jews of Palestine from Alexander the Great to the Arab Conquest (New York: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1995), 30. 5. Josephus, Ant. 12.145–146. 6. Josephus, Ant. 12.154. 7. Appian, Roman History 45.233–234; HJPJC 2 1.128. 8. James C. VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas: High Priests after the Exile (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), 199. 9. 1 Macc 1:15; Josephus, Ant. 12.241. Since our sources all come from the opponents of Jason and the Hellenists, we can only surmise the numbers of these “lawless ones,” but the civil war that soon followed drew on a considerable number of Jews. 10. 2 Macc 4:18–20. This incidental, among others, tells us that when it came to choosing a political party, the views within each party differed. Again, this is normal and easily accepted. One may choose a side in a major cultural conflict, but as things progress, some will accuse others of going too far. 11. 2 Macc 4:23–38. 12. 2 Macc 4:39–50. 13. Peter Green, Alexander to Actium: The Historical Evolution of the Hellenistic Age (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990), 430. 14. 1 Macc 1:20. 15. Polybius, Histories 26.1.1–14; HJPJC 2 1:147. 16. According to one source, in 3 days 80,000 Jews—men, women, and children—were cut down, half of them in hand-to-hand combat (2 Macc 5:14), but that is far too high a number, because Jerusalem had nowhere near that many inhabitants. Josephus is also aware of the inflated number and reduces it to 10,000 (Ant. 12.251). 17. HJPJC 2 1:154. 18. 1 Macc 1:44–50. 19. Quoted by Aristobulus, Fragment 4, OTP 2:841. 20. Josephus, Ant. 12.239–241; even if Josephus is simply filling in the information from 1 Macc 1:11–15, Menelaus is the leading figure of the new policy. 21. HJPJC 2 1:158 n. 49. In later rabbinic literature, Maccabee is spelled mqqbi (with a qof ), and makkbi (with a kaf ). The one (mqqbi) suggests hammerer or piercer, the other (makkbi) suggests exterminator, or extinguisher, either of which might lie behind the Greek transliteration Makkabaios in 1 Maccabees 2:4. Another suggested etymology for the Hebrew is mqqabai, an abbreviation of maqqabiah, itself coined from the verb NaQaB (pierce,


appoint, mark out) in fulfillment of the verse “you shall be called by a new name, which the mouth of Yahweh shall mark out (yiqqabenu)” (Isa 62:2, my translation). 22. For a dramatic retelling of the conflict from the Hellenist’s point of view, see “The Lawless Ones,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 69–84. 23. Josephus, Ant. 12.325; John 10:22. 24. BT Shabbat 21a. 25. 1 Macc 5:66–68. 26. 1 Macc 9:21. 27. Pliny, Natural History 37.60, line 169; cited in HJB 1:10 n. 2. 28. Valerius Maximus, Facta et Dicta Memorabilia 1.3.3; in GLAJJ 1.357–60, and commentary by Stern. See also L. Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World: Attitudes and Interactions from Alexander to Justinian (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), 300–302, in support of its veracity; and for a more skeptical view, Martin M. Goodman, Mission and Conversion: Proselytizing in the Religious History of the Roman Empire (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994), 82–83. 29. 1 Macc 9:35–42. 30. It is not given in 1 Maccabees, but Josephus gives the lineage as Mattathias, son of Joannes, son of Symeon, son of Asamonaios (Ant. 12.265); and rabbinic tradition refers to the sons of the Hashmonai (e.g., M Middot 1:6; BT Shabbat 21a). 31. Josephus, Ant. 13.171–173. 32. By “political” we understand that particularly in this situation, there was no neat ideological distinction between religion and politics. For the opponents of the radical Hellenists, the only kind of rule was what Josephus would later call theocracy, that is, the rule of God. In theocracy, politics is God’s rule, and religion may be described as the people’s obedience to God’s rule. But theocracy is a human idea, and ideal. In the realm of realpolitik, the struggle for power, men of power strove for their own advantage and summoned the sanction of divine approval as occasion required. 33. 1QS 5.8–9. 34. Damascus Document (CD) 1.5–11; following The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English: Translated from the Hebrew and Aramaic and Edited by Géza Vermès (New York: Allen Lane/Penguin Press, 2004), 54–56. 35. Wicked Priest in 1QpHab 8.3–13. 36. 1 Macc 7:12. 37. 1 Macc 10:51–66. 38. 1 Macc 12:2. 39. 1 Macc 13:41–42. 40. 1 Macc 12:27–30. 41. 1 Macc 13:48. 42. 1 Macc 14:41–43. 43. 2 Sam 2:4; 5:3. 44. 1 Macc 14:47. 45. 1 Macc 14:11–12. 46. Josephus, Ant. 13.249. The date of the original construction of the “Tomb of David” is unknown, but it must have been a post-exilic monument, apparently containing treasures. Herod rifled it for 3000 talents, and refurbished it (Josephus, Ant. 7.394; 16.179–183). The location, though it was well-known and mentioned in Acts 2:29, is also uncertain; the modern site is medieval. See J. Murphy-O’Connor, The Holy Land: An Archaeological Guide from Earliest Times to 1700 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980), 74. 47. Josephus, Ant. 13.249; Diodorus, Library of History 34.15–17, and others in LCL 7:353 n. f. 48. Josephus, Ant. 13.272–274, here 13.273 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 49. Josephus, Ant. 13.254–258. 50. Josephus, Ant. 13.277 (R. Marcus, LCL, see 7.366 n. a.).

736 Notes to pages 123–35 51. Josephus, Ant. 13.275–281. 52. Josephus, Ant. 13.278–279; J.W. 1.68. 53. Josephus, Ant. 13.291 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 54. Josephus, Ant. 13.288–298; M Ma’aser Sheni 5:15; BT Qiddushin 66a. 55. 4QMMT (4Q397); 4Q398; Vermes, The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls, 228–29. This fragmented document is variously known as a Halakhic Letter, or Sectarian Manifesto, but commonly by the designation 4QMMT (Cave 4 of Qumran, Miqsat Ma’aseh ha-Torah, “some of the works of the Torah”). The rules of Torah that are listed mostly concern the mixing of pure and impure, the sacred with the profane. 56. HJPJC 2 1:211. 57. Josephus, J.W. 1.70–84; Ant. 13.301–317. 58. Strabo, Geography 16.2.40. 59. E. A. Knauf, “Ituraea,” ABD 3:583–84. 60. HJPJC 2 1:218. 61. Josephus, J.W. 1.78–81; Ant. 13.311–313. 62. Josephus, Ant. 13.319, quoting Strabo of Amaseia (64. b.c.e.–ca. 25 c.e.), who quotes Timagenes, a contemporary Alexandrian Greek; see GLAJJ 1:222–26. Scholars have suggested that the circumcision of the Idumaeans and Ituraeans, both from Transjordan Arabian ethnicity, who may have already circumcised their males, was more of an alliance mutually beneficial than a forced conversion to Judaism. Josephus, however, does not seem to see it this way. See Shaye J. D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), 109–39; Mark Chancey, The Myth of a Gentile Galilee (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 41–45. 63. Josephus, Ant. 13.320–406; J.W. 1.85–106. 64. Josephus, Ant. 13.342 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 65. Josephus, Ant. 13.354. 66. Josephus, J.W. 1.96–98; Ant. 13.379–383; Nahum Pesher (4QpNah) 1.5–2.2. The identity of his opponents as Pharisees, and the number 800, is not given by Josephus in this passage, but he does say elsewhere that Pharisees were among the leading opponents of Jannaeus, and upon his death the Pharisees took vengeance on one court adviser of Jannaeus and others who had favored the crucifixion of the 800 (J.W. 1.113–114). 67. Josephus, Ant. 13.397. 68. HJB 1:27; S. Baron, Social and Religious History of the Jews, Ancient Times (2d ed.; vols. 1–3; New York: Columbia University Press, 1952), 2:404–5. 69. PT Berakhot 7.2; Neusner, HJB 1:25–26, makes the case for a historical kernel of diplomatic relations between Jannaeus and Babylonian Jews. 70. Josephus, Ant. 13.405–432; J.W. 1.107–119. 71. Josephus, Ant. 13.430 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 72. Josephus, Ant. 14.1–79; J.W. 1.120–158. For a related point of view of the Essenes and Covenanters at Qumran over the Hasmonean wars, see “The Pious Ones,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 85–101. 73. Josephus, Ant. 14.41 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 74. Josephus, J.W. 1.150–151; Ant. 14.69–71. 75. Cicero, Pro Flacco 28.67. 76. Cicero, Pro Sestio 71, 93, in HJPJC 2 1:245. 77. Josephus, Ant. 14.95–97. 78. Plutarch, Crassus, 33. 79. Josephus, Ant. 14.119–120. 80. Plutarch, Caesar 32.8; Suetonius, Julius 32, gives the words “The die is cast.” 81. Plutarch, Pompey 67–72. 82. Peter Green, Alexander to Actium: The Historical Evolution of the Hellenistic Age (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990), 663 n. 124. 83. Plutarch, Anthony, 27.3–4; 29.1 (trans. J. Dryden, Modern Library, 1120). 84. Josephus, Ant. 14.131.


85. Josephus, Ant. 14.143–148; 190–212. 86. Suetonius, Julius 84; GLAJJ 2:109. 87. Plutarch, Cicero 49.1–2. 88. Josephus, Ant. 14.271–276. 89. Josephus, Ant. 14.283 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 90. Josephus, J.W. 1.247–273; Ant. 14.330–366. 91. BT Pesachim 70b; Josephus, Ant. 15.3–4, 370. 92. Strabo, Historica Hypomnemata, cited in Josephus, Ant. 15.8–10; GLAJJ 1.283–285; cf. Plutarch, Antony, 36:3–4. 93. For example, Lactantius, Divine Instututes 7.24; Constantine, “Oration to the Saints” (Oratio ad sanctum coetum) 19–21 = Oration of Constantine (NPNF 2, 1.575–78). 94. Josephus, Ant. 15.6. 95. Plutarch, Antony 36; Dio, Roman History 44.32; Josephus, Ant. 15.79, 95–98; our sources disagree on precisely when the gifts were made, 36 or 34, on which see HJPJC 2 1.287–89. 96. Josephus, Ant. 15.62–70, 80–87. 97. For a view of peasant life and the earthquake at this time in contrast to Herod’s troubles, see “Of Dung, Dust, and a Dog,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 102–15. 98. Josephus, J.W. 1.391–392. 99. Josephus, Ant. 15.194–201. 100. Suetonius, Augustus 17. 101. Suetonius, Augustus 28 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 102. Josephus, Ant. 15.267 (trans. A. Wikgren, LCL). 103. Josephus, Ant. 15.271–279 (trans. A. Wikgren, LCL). 104. CHJ 3:118–21; sales tax, Josephus, Ant. 17.205. 105. Josephus, J.W. 1.361–362; Ant. 15.5, 96, 106, 132; 17.305, 307; copper mines, J.W. 1.128. 106. Josephus, Ant. 15.342–343. 107. Josephus, J.W. 1.422–425; Ant. 15.146–148. Josephus errs when he attributes the colonnade to Herod; see Glanville Downey, A History of Antioch in Syria from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961), 173–74. 108. Josephus, Ant. 16.60 (trans. A. Wikgren, LCL). 109. Pliny, Natural History 5.15.72; Josephus, Ant. 18.116. 110. Josephus, Ant. 15.360–364. 111. Josephus, Ant. 15.364; J.W. 1.405–406. 112. Josephus, Ant. 15.365–371; 17.41–45; although we cannot be certain, it appears that the two accounts of Pharisees escaping an oath of loyalty to Herod are two versions of the same event, which Josephus has separated by over a decade in his history, but the earlier date has the best historical background. For a dramatic retelling of this incident, along with a view to the Pharisee teachings at this time, see “A Fence around Torah,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 116–29. 113. Josephus, Ant. 15.382–387. 114. Josephus, Ant. 15.419–424. 115. 730 feet; a Roman cubit is approximately 1.5 (1.46) feet. 116. D. Bahat, “Herodian Temple,” in CHJ 3:44–46; Lee I. Levine, ed., Jerusalem: Its Sanctity and Centrality to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (New York: Continuum, 1999), 228; cf. E. P. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 B.C.E.–66 C.E. (Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1992), 58, citing earlier literature on the largest stone found at 400 tons. 117. Leen Ritmeyer and Kathleen Ritmeyer, Secrets of Jerusalem’s Temple Mount (Washington, D.C.: Biblical Archaeology Society, 1998), 45–50; and in general, see Leen Ritmeyer and Kathleen Ritmeyer, The Quest: Revealing the Temple Mount in Jerusalem (Jerusalem: Carta, 2006). 118. Josephus, J.W. 1.401; Levine, Jerusalem, 228; Ritmeyer and Ritmeyer, Secrets, 16, who give W 1590, N 1035, E 1535, S 912; Sanders, Judaism, 58.

738 Notes to pages 149–65 119. Acts 3:11. 120. Josephus, Ant. 15.411 (trans. A. Wikgren, LCL). 121. According to the calculations of Sanders, Judaism, 67. 122. Josephus gives a paraphrase of the inscription (Josephus, J.W., 5.194; Ant. 15.417), but a complete plaque with the engraved warning was discovered in 1871 and another in 1935; see Marcus and Wikgren, LCL 8.200 n. d, for text, translation, and bibliography. 123. Levine, Jerusalem, 239, citing BT Arachin 2.1; and M Middot 2:6, that mentions Women’s Gate into the Court of the Israelites, between the Offering Gate and the Singing Gate. 124. Peter Richardson, Building Jewish in the Roman East (Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press, 2004), 289. 125. Shmuel Safrai, “The Temple,” in The Jewish People in the First Century, 865–907 (CRINT 1.2; ed. S. Safrai and M. Stern; Assen: Van Gorcum, 1976), 867. 126. M Eruvim 10:14. 127. Isa 29:1; M Middot 4:7; Josephus, J.W. 5.207. Ariel means “lioness of God.” 128. M Menakhot 11:6; a later tradition positions them north south, BT Yoma 51b–52a. 129. BT Menahot 28b. 130. M Yoma 5:2. 131. Zohar III (Vayikra) 102a: “R. Isaac said: A cord was tied to the feet of the High Priest before he entered the Holy of Holies, so that if he died suddenly within they should be able to draw him out” (trans. Soncino edition). The belief that priests listened to the tinkling of the bells on the high priest’s robe and if the sound ceased they knew he was dead is equally false, since the high priest wore a special linen robe and breeches without bells when he entered the Holy of Holies (Lev 16:4); see Exod 28:31–35 for the bells on the ephod Aaron wore during his regular ministrations in the sanctuary and Mishnah Yoma for the rabbinic version of the vestments and procedures on Yom Kippur during the late Second Temple era. 132. Josephus, Ant. 17.23–29. 133. DAR 192–99; all the legends given are centuries later, though some no doubt go back to him. 134. BT Pesahim 66a. 135. Josephus, Ant. 17.19–22; J.W. 1.562. 136. Josephus, Ant. 17.198. 137. Josephus, Ant. 18.130–136. 138. Josephus, Ant. 14.9 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 139. Josephus, Ant. 16.141 (trans. A. Wikgren, LCL). 140. Macrobius, Saturnalia 2.4. 141. HJPJC 2 1:340. 142. Josephus, J.W. 2.118, Ant. 18.4; cf. Acts 5:37; HJPJC 2 1:332, 381. 143. Josephus, Ant. 18.26; on certain chronological difficulties, see VanderKam, From Joshua to Caiaphas, 418–24. 144. For a retelling of the Samaritan incident in the temple, see “Sacrilege,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 130–45. 145. The story is related in a Samaritan tradition (Chronicle of Abu’l Fath 113), cited in J. A. Montgomery, The Samaritans (Philadelphia: John C. Winston, 1907), 85. 146. Suetonius, Augustus 23 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 147. Philo, Embassy 143–149 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL). 148. A. DiLella, “Wisdom of Ben Sira,” ABD 5:940. 149. Fragment 4.6–7, OTP 2:841. The author of Acts of the Apostles will place a line of the same poem in the mouth of Paul, apostle to the Gentiles (Acts 17:28). 150. J. J. Collins, OTP 1:317–472; HJPJC 2 3:618–54. 151. Pausanias, Description of Greece 10.12.9 (trans. W. H. S. Jones, LCL); GLAJJ 2:198.


152. Kenneth E. Pomykala, The Davidic Dynasty Tradition in Early Judaism: Its History and Significance for Messianism (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995); William Horbury, Jewish Messianism and the Cult of Christ (London: SCM Press, 1998); Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The One Who Is to Come (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2007); M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget, eds., Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity (London: T&T Clark, 2007). 153. 2 Sam 22:50–51; Ps 89:20–51 [mt 21–52]. 154. Deut 17:14–20. 155. Isa 44:28; 45:1. 156. The association of Zerubbabel with the name Branch (3:8; 6:12) is less tied to David than its counterpart in Jer (23:5; 33:15); see discussion of Pomykala, Davidic Dynasty, 53–60. 157. 2 Sam 17:16; 2 Chr 17:14. 158. Pomykala, Davidic Dynasty, 88–111. 159. Sir 49:4–5; the psalm inserted between 51:12 and 13 is a later addition. 160. Dan 9:25–26a. 161. Onias III (2 Macc 4:34; Dan 11:22); Fitzmyer, The One Who Is to Come, 60–64. 162. Translation by R.B. Wright, OTP 2:665–69. 163. Or “Messiah of the Lord.” 164. 1QS 9.11; elsewhere in CD (12:23–24; 14:19; 19:10–11) “messiah” is in the singular, hence messiah of Aaron and Israel, but most scholars agree it implies two figures, where it is made plain in CD 7.18–21, as in 1QS 9.11, and in Testament of Simeon 7.2. 165. 1QSa 2.11–22. 166. 4QDibHam, 4QpGena, 4QFlor, 4QpIsaa, 4QSerek Hamilhama; all discussed in detail by Pomykala, Davidic Dynasty, 171–216. 167. Gen 49:10; 2 Sam 7:11–14; Amos 9:11; Isa 10:34–11:5. 168. George W. E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature between the Bible and the Mishnah (2d ed.; Philadelphia: Fortress, 2005), 248–55; Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2003), 104–5. In George W. E. Nickelsburg and James C. VanderKam, 1 Enoch: A New Translation (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), parts of the text have been reconstructed into what the translators feel is likely the original arrangement. 169. Philo, Embassy 157 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL). 170. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.77 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 171. Cicero, De Natura Deorum 3.5. And Polybius stresses the importance of religio to heroism in war (6.54–56). 172. Tertullian, Apology 21.1; and the slogan points back to Caesar’s “charter” making Jews an incorporated body within the empire, or for that matter, the understanding with Alexander the Great; see Mary E. Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian (Leiden: Brill, 1981), 135–36. 173. S. J. D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness, 69–106. For this reason, modern scholars attempt (as we did earlier) to distinguish the ethno-geographic term Judaean, from the modern religious definition of Jew, and even the finer distinction of the Judaean from Judaea and a Judaean from the Diaspora. See also Steve Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History,” Journal for the Study of Judaism 38/4–5 (2007): 457–512. 174. Horace, Satires 1.4.139–143 (trans. Fairclough, LCL). 175. Cicero, Pro Flacco 28.66–69, delivered in 59. 176. Cicero, De Provinciis Consularibus 5:10. 177. Sib. Or. 3.271. 178. Strabo, Geography 16.2.28 cited by Josephus, Ant. 14.114–116 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL). 179. Josephus, Ant. 11.133. 180. The often quoted figure of 6,944,000, based on a census under Emperor Claudius (41–54) but only reported by Bar Hebraeus (thirteenth century), is now considered to be too high. S. Baron, Social and Religious History of the Jews, Ancient Times (2d ed.; vols. 1–3;

740 Notes to pages 174–79 New York: Columbia University Press, 1952), 1:170, pushes the number to 8 million while admitting (n. 7) that we have no independent evidence of any value. 181. The exposure of infants to die, or to be picked up and raised by others, was fairly widespread in Greco-Roman antiquity, and it was the legal right of the father to do so. It was more common among poor families who could not afford to raise another child, and especially for unwanted baby girls. A letter written by a Roman soldier in Alexandria to his wife, in the year 1 b.c.e., states: “If you have the baby before I return, if it is a boy, let it live; if it is a girl, expose it.” Oxyrhynchus Papyri 744; in Jo-Ann Sheldon, As the Romans Did: A Sourcebook in Roman Social History (2d ed.; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 28. 182. Varro, Antiquities, preserved in Augustine, City of God 9.9; GLAJJ 1:210. 183. Ovid, Ars Amatoria 1.75–80; John M. G. Barclay, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 296, 440. 184. Tibullus, Carmina 1.3:15–18, in GLAJJ 1:319; also Tacitus, Histories 5.4.4; Barclay, Jews, 297. 185. Juvenal, Saturae 6.153–160; trans. G. G. Ramsay (LCL), in GLAJJ 2:99–100. 186. Letter of Aristeas 150. 187. Josephus, Ant. 14.131 (trans. R. Marcus, LCL); see above section 8.2. The phrase “common Jewish ethnicity” (Greek, homophylos), of the same race, tribe, or stock, may also be translated “common nationality” as done by R. Marcus in the LCL translation, but the word nationality, while legitimate, carries modern connotations that are anachronistic for this era. 188. 3 Macc 1:3. 189. Barclay, Jews, 234. 190. For a survey of the origins and nature of the associations (sectarian and nonsectarian), see Shaye J. D. Cohen, From the Maccabees to the Mishnah (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987), 124–73; and the more extensive treatment of E. P. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 B.C.E.–66 C.E. (London: SCM Press, 1992), 318–494. 191. A. I. Baumgarten, “The Name of the Pharisees,” Journal of Biblical Literature 102 (1983): 411–28. 192. Michael Avi-Yonah, The Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule: A Political History of Palestine from the Bar Kokhba War to the Arab Conquest (New York: Schocken, 1984), 23. 193. The extent to which Pharisees saw themselves as a “nation of priests” is debated, but the general thesis appears valid to some degree; the question is to what extent, and the truth probably lies between the extremes. Jacob Neusner, From Politics to Piety: The Emergence of Pharisaic Judaism (New York: Ktav, 1979) and elsewhere, has argued for the strong identification. The thesis has been challenged by E. P. Sanders, Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies (Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990), 131–254. The supposed biblical slogan “nation of priests” is quite rare, as shown by Daniel R. Schwartz, “A Kingdom of Priests?” in Studies in the Jewish Background of Christianity (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992), 57–80. See also Oskar Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Influences on Early Christianity (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 117–22; and on ritual purity, 93–102. 194. Natural History 5.73, trans H. Rackham, LCL; GLAJJ 1:472; Dio Chyrsostom also apparently connected the Essenes to the Dead Sea, near the place called Sodoma, cited by Synesius of Cyrene (ca. 400 ce); GLAJJ 1:539. 195. Josephus, J.W. 2.119–161; Sanders, Judaism, 341–79; also Steve Mason, “Did the Essenes Write the Dead Sea Scrolls?” Biblical Archaeology Review 34 (November–December, 2008): 61–65, 81. 196. DSS, Community Rule [1QS] 6.2–3. 197. Josephus, Ant. 15.371–372; 17.346–348; J.W. 2.135–142. 198. DSS, Community Rule [1QS] 5.7–11. 199. Josephus, J.W. 2.128. 200. 2 Kgs 23:11–12; Ezek 8:16; M Sukkah 5:4; e.g., Pss 19:1–6; 85:10–11. 201. Community Rule [1QS] 7; Sanders, Judaism, 352–56. 202. Philo, Good Person 76–77, 86–87; Josephus, J.W. 2.122, 125; CD 14.12–16; Sanders, Judaism, 348.


203. Philo, Contempl. Life 2 (trans. F. H. Colson, LCL). 204. Josephus, J.W. 2.117–118; Ant. 18.3–10, 23–25. 205. Nothing in common, Josephus, J.W. 2.118 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL); like in all ways except, Ant. 18.23. 206. Josephus, Ant. 11.342–347. 207. 2 Kgs 17:24; Rabbinic tradition in the Mishnah calls them Cutheans exclusively (e.g., M Berakhot 7:1; 8:8). For a lucid discussion of the Samaritan origins and development up to the Roman period, see Robert T. Anderson and Terry Giles, The Keepers: An Introduction to the History and Culture of the Samaritans (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002), 9–49. 208. 1 Sam 2:12–17, 22–25; 2 Sam 6:1–20. 209. The Hebrew Bible states that the king of Assyria carried away the Israelites to Assyria and repopulated the cities with people from Assyria (2 Kgs 17:6, 24), but according to the Assyrian annals of Sargon II, only 27,290 Israelites were deported, “Sargen II,” translated by A. Leo Oppenheim (ANET 284–85), no doubt the principal citizens among the aristocracy and artisans, so that many Israelites remained. 210. Ant. 18.20; Philo (Good Person 75) also numbers the Essenes at 4000. 211. This point is effectively made by Sanders, Judaism, 380–412. 212. Sanders, Judaism, 206–8. 213. Originally the Shema consisted of the one verse, but later included 6:4–9, and other passages, 11:13–24 and Num 15:37–41; BT Berakhot 13b; Sukkah 42a. 214. BT Shabbat 31a.

Notes to Part 3 1. Suetonius, Tiberius 23. 2. Suetonius, Tiberius 26; Dio, Roman History 57.18.5. 3. Philo, Embassy 159–161. 4. Josephus, Ant. 18.81–84; Tacitus, Annals 2.85; Dio, Roman History 57.18.5; Suetonius, Tiberius 36. For a look at Jews in Rome and an imaginative historical story set during the expulsion, see “The Wedding,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 146–62. 5. Josephus, Ant. 18.310–373. 6. Josephus, Ant. 18.374–379. 7. Josephus, Life 277. 8. Josephus, Ant. 18.143–146. 9. Josephus, Ant. 18.55–59. 10. Josephus, Ant. 18.60–62. 11. Philo, Embassy 299–305 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL). 12. Josephus, Ant. 18.85–89. 13. Josephus, Ant. 18.117; see revised translation in J. P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, vol. 2: Mentor, Message, and Miracles (4 vols.; New York: Doubleday, 1994), 2.20, 2.56–62. A contemporary call to Gentiles for repentance and baptism is made by the Jewish Sibyl: “wash your whole bodies in perennial rivers” (Sibylline Oracles 4.165, [trans. Collins, OTP 1.388]). 14. Luke 3:10–13. 15. Josephus, Ant. 18.63–64; the passage, known as the Testimonium Flavianum, is given here according to the editing and translation of John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, vol. 1: The Roots of the Problem and the Person (4 vols.; New York: Doubleday, 1991), 61. The received text is fraught with later Christian interpolations. 16. A. N. Sherwin-White, Roman Society and Roman Law in the New Testament (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1963), 187–88.

742 Notes to pages 195–98 17. This point is emphasized specifically concerning what can be known about Jesus from the memories of his followers by James D. G. Dunn, Jesus Remembered: Christianity in the Making (vol. 1; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2003). 18. Deut 6:4; Lev 19:18. 19. BT Shabbat 31a. 20. Matt 7:12. Replacing Torah for the usual translation “law”; the Greek is nomos (law), but the Hebrew or Aramaic would certainly have been Torah, meaning the Five Books of Moses; likewise Prophets, signifying that element of the Hebrew canon, is to be capitalized. 21. Mark 1:14; subsequent references are from Mark, unless noted. 22. Matt 11:27 = Luke 10:22; cf. Matt 24:36 = Mark 13:32; part of the so-called primitive Q document, and because it stands in contrast to the Synoptic Gospels yet mirrors much of the portrait in the Gospel of John (3:35; 10:14–15; 13:3; 17:2, 25, 29), it is known as the “bolt from the Johannine blue”; coined by K. A. von Hase, Die Geschichte Jesu (2d ed.; Leipzig, 1876), 422, cited in Donald A. Hagner, Matthew (WBC 33A; Dallas: Word, 1993), 317. Many scholars suspect the statement of being a later creation, but others defend it as just the sort of primitive tradition that accentuates the sense of authority attributed to Jesus across the Gospels, as well as his intimacy with God the Father, and on which the Gospel of John might have built his theology. 23. For a recent and in depth description of the sects with a specific emphasis on their relationship to Jesus, see Meier, A Marginal Jew, 3.289–613. 24. Most famously, Matt 23. 25. Mark 2:23–28 [= Matt 12:1–8; Luke 6:1–5]; for a verdict on its historicity, see John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew, vol. 4: Law and Love (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), 267–80. 26. Gen 2:2; Jub. 2:16–18. 27. Mark 2:27; the dictum is found only in Mark, omitted by Matthew and Luke. 28. BT Yoma 85b; Mekhilta de R. Ishmael on Exod 31:13–14; see comments of J. Meier, A Marginal Jew, 4.280–82. 29. M Yoma 8:6. 30. Exod 31:14. 31. Mark 10:4–6; Matt 19:3–12; Dead Sea Scrolls, CD 4.20. Scholars have argued that Mark reports the original verdict of Jesus and Matthew softens the impossible-to-follow command by permitting divorce for reason of adultery; but see Markus Bockmuehl, Jewish Law in Gentile Churches: Halakhah and the Beginning of Christian Public Ethics (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2003), 17–21, for a lucid argument on why the Matthean Jesus was keeping to known halakhic interpretation on divorce; namely, sexual intercourse outside the marriage rendered a woman impure and forbidden to her husband. It is not clear whether a legal divorce was required after adultery, or merely permitted, and divorce need not follow so long as the husband and wife refrained from further sexual relations. See also Meier, A Marginal Jew, 4:74–128. 32. Mark 7:15–19; although the bulk of the incident reported in Mark 7 is deemed a later creation of his followers and does not go back to the historical Jesus, the response of Jesus fits within the overall teaching of the historical Jesus, hence verisimilar. But the Greek clause “he declared all foods clean” uses an awkward participle that in the King James translation was rendered “purging all meats” as a natural result of food ending up in the latrine, but it is more accurately translated “he declared all foods clean” by a strong consensus of Greek scholars and placed in parentheses in most Bible versions because it is a comment by Mark, not the words of Jesus. 33. On Honi, BT Ta’anit 23a; Simon, Josephus, Ant. 17.346–347; Hanina, BT Berakhot 34b and other references in DAR 182–85. 34. A variant statement attributed to a Christian document, apparently a version of the Gospel of Matthew, is preserved in rabbinic tradition: “I came not to destroy the Law of Moses nor to add to the Law of Moses.” BT Shabbat 116b.


35. Mark 12:28–34; c.f. parallels Matt 22:37; Luke 10:27. Mark and Luke list four faculties of love, while Matthew, in keeping with the great commandment in Deuteronomy, lists three (heart, soul, mind), though none of the versions follow the Hebrew precisely: “and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart (lev), and with all your soul (nefesh), and with all your might (moed)” (Deut 6:5). Jesus may have used an Aramaic paraphrase, but again it is a matter of verisimilitude. 36. Meier, A Marginal Jew, 4:484–528, argues for the historicity of the core double commandment of love, the combination of Deut 6:4 and Lev 19:18, which was unique in Jewish literature up to that time, and even to the Mishnah (ca. 220 c.e.). The conflict story enveloping the saying of Jesus is also likely to be historical. The verdict of Jesus that the scribe is near but not yet in the kingdom of God, according to Mark’s adaptation of the tradition, however, implies that what the enlightened scribe lacked was full acceptance of Jesus as the Messiah and Son of God, the thesis of the Markan Gospel. 37. E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 292. 38. Luke 13:31–32 nrsv. 39. Mark 11:9–10. 40. Sanders and Davies, CHJ 3:652 n. 137. The Temple Scroll was among the Dead Sea Scrolls collection. 41. Jer 7:11. 42. Mark 13:1–2. 43. Mark 15:1. 44. Sanders and Davies, CHJ 3:674; Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, 294–318. 45. For a recent review of the debate, see Markus Bockmuehl, “Resistance and Redemption in the Jesus Tradition,” in Resistance and Redemption: The Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity (ed. M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget; London: T&T Clark, 2007), 65–77. 46. Luke 13:1. 47. Mark 15:26. An invented inscription might have read “King of Israel” (e.g., John 1:49; 12:13). The other Gospels add different statements to the wording of the inscription but agree on the phrase “King of the Jews” (Matt 27:37; Luke 23:38; John 19:19). 48. Mark 15:34; Matt 27:46; from Ps 22:2 [English 22:1]. 49. 1 Cor 15:6. 50. Luke 24:25–32. 51. Amos 3:7. 52. Acts 2:36 nrsv; on the process of accepting Jesus as the Messiah, see Oskar Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Influences on Early Christianity (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 301–18. 53. For the most engaging defense of the prophecy historicized approach, see John Dominic Crossan, The Birth of Christianity: Discovering What Happened in the Years Immediately After the Execution of Jesus (San Francisco: Harper, 1998). To achieve his solution, Crossan inverts the usual chronology of sources and relies heavily on two hypothetical documents, the Q Gospel, and the Cross Gospel. A careful defense of the history-remembered model is given by Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospel as Eyewitness Testimony (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2006). 54. Mark 6:3 names James as first, probably the eldest, among the brothers of Jesus; and there is no suggestion elsewhere that the position of James was a radical shift in the leadership of the remaining disciples. See John Painter, Just James: The Brother of Jesus in History and Tradition (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999). 55. Matt 2:23 nrsv; cf. Mark 14:67, and John 19:19 on the titulus, which may be translated “Jesus the Nazarene” (njb). 56. Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23; 22:4; 24:14, 22; 1QS 9:17, 18; 10:21; CD 1:13; 2:6. 57. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “Jewish Christianity in Acts in Light of the Qumran Scrolls,” in Studies in Luke-Acts (Essays Presented in Honor of Paul Schubert; ed. L. E. Keck and J. L. Martyn; Nashville: Abingdon, 1968), 233–57; Essays on the Semitic Background of the

744 Notes to pages 205–19 New Testament (Missoula, Mont.: SBL, 1974), 282; C. K. Barrett, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles (2 vols.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark International, 1994, 2004), 1:448; Ben Witherington III, The Acts of the Apostles: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998), 316. 58. 1 Thess 2:14; 1 Cor 15:9. 59. Acts 2:9–11. 60. For the rabbinic traditions on Gamaliel I the Elder, see DAR 151–53. 61. Acts 6:1; 9:29; the modern analogy of an American Jew who speaks English while visiting Israel, where the Jews mostly speak Hebrew and some English, cannot be too distant from the first-century milieu of Hellenists and Hebrews. See Craig Hill, Hellenists and Hebrews (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992). 62. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.1.2; Painter, Just James, 107. 63. Acts 8:10. He will be credited with the origin of Gnosticism, as part of the legend building. 64. Gal 1:13–14; 1 Cor 15:9; Phil 3:4–7. 65. Matt 23:15; Gal 1:13–14; cf. 5:11. 66. Davies, CHJ 3:682–83. 67. John Gager, Reinventing Paul (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 25–26. 68. Gal 1:15–16. 69. 1 Cor 15:3–8. 70. Tacitus, Annals 6.46; Josephus claims Tiberius chose Gaius through divination, but no Roman historian supports this, Ant. 18.214–222; Suetonius says his written will bade Gaius to rule first, and the younger Tiberius Gemmelus to rule after. 71. Tacitus, Annals 6.50. 72. Josephus, Ant. 18.230–233. 73. Suetonius, Tiberius 75. 74. Suetonius, Caligula 29 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 75. Josephus, J.W. 2.206–213; there is different (and suspect) explanation in Ant. 19.236–244; Dio, Roman History 60.8.2 agrees that Agrippa did mediate. 76. Suetonius, Claudius 29. 77. Josephus, J.W. 2.219; see 5.152, where Agrippa stopped building the wall out of fear that Claudius would realize his true intentions of revolt. 78. Acts 12:1–2; Nikos Kokkinos, The Herodian Dynasty: Origins, Role in Society, and Eclipse (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998), 301–2, 383. 79. Josephus, Ant. 20.199. 80. Acts 4:1–6; 5:17. 81. Acts 12:1–19. In keeping with the Passover week, Luke models Peter’s escape narrative on the exodus from Egypt, and as with all miracles, it passes beyond the purview of the historian; but prisoner escapes happened regularly, in Jerusalem, Rome, and elsewhere. 82. Acts 12:21–23; Josephus, Ant. 19.343–350. 83. Kokkinos, Herodian Dynasty, Appendix 5 (378–80). 84. Josephus, Ant. 20.17–51. 85. BT Pesahim 3b; HJB 1:46–51; Judah b. Bathyra’s historical existence is disputed, but it is worth recording as an example of the early contact between Jews of Palestine and Babylon, which we know had occurred. 86. M Yevamot 16:7; BT Yevamot 115a; HJB 1:52–53. 87. Philo, Flaccus 46; note the similarity with the same imagery in an allegorical manner, Confusion 78. 88. Josephus, Ant. 18.259 (trans. L. H. Feldman, LCL). 89. Philo, Prelim. Studies 74–80. 90. Philo, Embassy 166 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL). 91. Seneca, Letters 88.40. 92. Pliny, Natural History, preface 25.


93. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.8–144; see GLAJJ 1:389–415 for texts and analysis, including statements of Seneca, Pliny, and Africanus on Apion. 94. Philo, Embassy, Flaccus; Josephus, J.W. 2.184–203; Ant. 18.257–309. 95. Philo, Embassy 353 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL); Philo says only that Gaius “gave utterance to an invocatory address which it was a sin even to listen to, much more to reproduce in actual words,” but the pronunciation of the name of Yahweh seems the most likely interpretation. Caligula may have claimed to be the Jewish God, but simply claiming to be a god would hardly have been unusual or forbidden to hear by Jews. As may be seen from the Greek magical papyri, the general pronunciation of the name was all vowels, and we learn from Clement of Alexandria (ca. 215 c.e.) that the tetragram is pronounced Iaoué, which is similar to Yahweh (Miscellanies 5.6.34.5). For additional sources, see the Universal Jewish Encyclopedia 10:584–86. For a dramatic retelling of the embassy before Caligula, see “The Embassy,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 181–97. 96. John Malalas, The Chronicle of John Malalas (trans. Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott; Melbourne: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies; Sydney: University of Sydney, 1986), 10.20 (= 244–245); see the analysis of Glanville Downey, A History of Antioch in Syria from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961), 193–95. 97. Josephus, Ant. 19.290 (trans. L. H. Feldman, LCL); CPJ no. 153, 92–95, in HJPJC 2 1:398; John M. G. Barclay, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 55–60. 98. HJPJC 2 3:136 n. 43. 99. Josephus, J.W. 2.220; Ant. 20.100. 100. Josephus, Ant. 20.100–103; cf. Acts 5:37. 101. Josephus, J.W. 2.223–246; Ant. 20.103–136. 102. Josephus, Ant. 20.108; J.W. 2.224. 103. Josephus, J.W. 2.224–227; Ant. 20.105–111; the numbers given by Josephus at 20,000 to 30,000 seem impossibly high. 104. Rom 1:7; on the organization of Jewish communities in Rome, see Harry J. Leon, The Jews of Ancient Rome (updated ed.; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1995), 229–56. 105. Suetonius, Claudius 25, GLAJJ 2:113; cf. Dio, Roman History 60.6.6, GLAJJ 2:367; Orosius (fifth century), History against the Pagans 7.6; Acts 18:2; C. K. Barrett, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles (2 vols.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark International, 1998, 2004), 2:860; Leon, Jews of Ancient Rome, 23–27; Leonard V. Rutgers, Hidden Heritage of Diaspora Judaism (Leuven: Peeters, 1998), 171–81. 106. Acts 18:2. 107. Gerd Theissen, The Religion of the Earliest Churches: Creating a Symbolic World (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999), 220–23. 108. The Greek ekklēsia has passed into the romance languages (e.g., French église, whereas the word “church” appears in the Middle English chirche from the Old English circe and probably goes back to the Greek kyriakon [“of the Lord”], used initially in the “supper of the Lord” (1 Cor 11:20), “day of the Lord” (Rev 1:10), and later “house of the Lord” (Apostolic Constitutions 2.59; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 9.10). Paul is the earliest source for designation of ekklēsia, and he accepted it from common usage (1 Thess 1:1; 1 Cor 1:2). Paul never uses the name “synagogue.” He speaks rather of the “churches of Christ” in Judaea (Gal 1:22). 109. Acts 12:1–2. 110. Gal 1:18–24. 111. Seyoon Kim, Paul and the New Perspective: Second Thoughts on the Origin of Paul’s Gospel (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2001). 112. 1 Cor 15:3–8. 113. Gal 1:15–16. 114. For an imaginative historical reconstruction of Paul’s mission and the Greek philosophers, see “Persuasion,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 198–214.

746 Notes to pages 226–34 115. Acts 10:15. 116. Acts 11:19–30; Gal 2; Markus Bockmuehl, Jewish Law in Gentile Churches: Hala khah and the Beginning of Christian Public Ethics (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2003), 49–83; Magnus Zetterholm, The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social-Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and Christianity (Routledge Early Church Monographs; London: Routledge, 2003). 117. Josephus, J.W. 7.45; e.g., Nicolaus, a proselyte of Antioch in Acts 6:5. Population estimates of the city and the Jewish community at this time vary widely, but 30,000 to 50,000 is a reasonable number; Bockmuehl, Jewish Law, 54. 118. Acts 11:26; also at Acts 26:28. 119. The correlation of Paul’s statements in Galatians with Paul’s visits to Jerusalem described in Acts are beyond a happy solution, but things seem to flow more smoothly if we associate Paul’s description of his visit in Gal 2:1–10 with the second visit described in Acts 11:28–30. One of many points to consider is that Paul says he went up by revelation and met privately with the pillars of the Jerusalem church (Gal 2:2). While Paul may have had a personal revelation to do this, Luke introduces just such a revelation in the prediction by a prophet called Agabus that a famine was coming to Judaea. In fact, the famine had already hit Egypt during 45–46 and did reach Palestine during 46–47; see K. S. Gapp, “The Universal Famine under Claudius,” HTR 28 (1935): 258–65. The meeting described in Acts 11:27–30 appears to be far more private than the council described in Acts 15. For a thorough discussion of the chronology taken here, see Richard N. Longenecker, Galatians (WBC 41; Dallas: Word, 1990, 2002); and Richard J. Bauckham, “Peter, James and the Gentiles,” in The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul: Tensions in Early Christianity (ed. B. Chilton and C. A. Evans; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 91–142. 120. Gal 2:14. 121. Gal 3:28. 122. Bockmuehl, Jewish Law, 73–75; a member of the original twelve disciples, James the son of Zebedee, had already by executed (ca. 42–44), and Malalas, Chronicle 10.247, states, “In the eighth year of the reign of Claudius Caesar (48 c.e.) the Jews began a fierce persecution of the apostles and their disciples.” 123. Bockmuehl, Jewish Law, 61–70; the scriptural basis for “Greater Israel” is Gen 15:18; Exod 23:31; Deut 1:7–8; 11:24; and others. 124. Matt 10:6; 15:24; Jas 1:1. 125. The entire council is recorded in Acts 15. 126. Philo, QE 2.2; see also, Spec. Laws 1.51–53; 3.155; Virt. 1.102. 127. 2 Thess 2:3–4. 128. 2 Cor 12:1–10. 129. Tacitus, Annals 14–15; Josephus, War 7.244–251. 130. Tacitus, Annals 15.44: trans. M. Grant, The Annals of Imperial Rome (rev. ed.; Dorset, 1971), 365–66. 131. Tacitus, Annals 16.6; Sueteonius, Nero 35. 132. Josephus, Ant. 20.139. 133. Jonathan was high priest for a year after the removal of Caiaphas and had been part of a Jewish delegation to Rome requesting the appointment of Felix. Now, because Jonathan feared he would suffer because of the misrule of Felix, he was a liability to Felix, and the governor had him removed. 134. The sicarii, dagger men, were born, which Josephus names under Festus in Ant. 20.186 but described as a new kind under Felix in J.W. 2.254. 135. Josephus, J.W. 2.266–270; Ant. 20.176–188. 136. Josephus, Ant. 20.200–203. 137. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.23.11–18. 138. Josephus, Ant. 20.208–210. 139. BT Pesahim 57a.


140. Josephus, J.W. 6.300–313 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL); Josephus does not identify the scriptural oracle, but it may have been Num 24:17, “a star shall come forth,” or Dan 7:13, “one like a son of man.” The prominence of the oracle was later corroborated by Suetonius (Vespasian 4.5) and Tacitus (History 5.13.2). 141. Josephus, Ant. 20.219–223. 142. Josephus, J.W. 2.277–279. 143. Lev 14:4–5; Josephus, J.W., LCL 2:289 margin. 144. Josephus, J.W. 2.293–308. 145. Josephus, J.W. 2.409–410. 146. Josephus, J.W. 2.433. 147. Josephus, J.W. 2.426–442. 148. Josephus, J.W. 2.449–456. 149. Scythopolis and the tragic fate of Simon the Renegade, Josephus, J.W. 2.469–476. 150. Josephus, J.W. 2.477. 151. Josephus, J.W. 2.487–498. 152. Josephus, J.W. 2.556 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 153. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.5.3; the tradition of Eusebius is probably dependent on Aristo of Pella, but its veracity is much debated. The fact that the church of Jerusalem seems to have survived the war, however, suggests that if leaders of the Jerusalem church did flee the war, many also returned after the war. See Richard J. Bauckham, “James and the Jerusalem Community,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 79, for arguments and bibliography. 154. Josephus, J.W. 3.127–130. 155. Josephus, J.W. 3.387–392. 156. Josephus, J.W. 4.155–157 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 157. Josephus, J.W. 4.163–192 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 158. Josephus, J.W. 4.314–317. 159. On the legend of the flight of Johanan ben Zakkai, we have four accounts, representing two distinct traditions: BT Gittin 56a–b and Lamentations Rabbah 1.31; Avot of Rabbi Nathan (A), chapter 4, and Avot of Rabbi Nathan (B), chapter 6. For the best opportunity when Vespasian visited the walls of Jerusalem: Daesius = Sivan, would have been June 15 or later (Josephus, J.W. 4.550–551). Simeon b. Gamaliel apparently died during the final conflict or was executed by Rome, BT (Minor Tractates) Semahot 8. For a dramatized retelling of the Ben Zakkai story, see “Destinies,” in L. Sandgren, The Shadow of God: Stories from Early Judaism (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003), 231–48. 160. Josephus, J.W. 5.299–302. 161. Josephus, J.W. 5.362–419. 162. Sulpicious Severus, Chronica 2.30.3, GLAJJ 2:64–66, and commentary by M. Stern. While many scholars accept the passage to be from Tacitus, and it serves as a corrective to Josephus, who had good reason to exculpate Titus from the destruction, the mention of Christians as the offspring of the Jewish roots must be the addition of Severus, for Tacitus cannot have made such a clean association. 163. Jewish tradition is mixed on the precise date of the destruction of the first temple as well as the second. Josephus follows Jer 52:12. Rabbinic tradition, hence the modern commemoration of the event, gives Av 9 as the date (M Ta’anit 4:6), and 2 Kgs 25:8 says the temple was destroyed by Nebuchadrezzar on Av 7. 164. Josephus, J.W. 6.257–259 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 165. Josephus, J.W. 6.413; 7.1–2. 166. Josephus, J.W. 7.37–38. 167. HJPJC 2 1:510 n. 133. 168. Josephus, Life 191. 169. DAR 239–44; he is dealt with again in greater detail below. 170. Avot of Rabbi Nathan (B) 31; BT Rosh Hashanah 31b.

748 Notes to pages 243–56 171. M Avot 2:8. 172. M Yadaim 4:6; see also T Parah 3:8; BT Bava Batra 115b–116a; Menachot 65a–b. 173. M Berakhot 8:1–3; translation Neusner. 174. BT Eruvin 13b. 175. M Demai 6:6; Efraim Elimelech Urbach, The Sages, Their Concepts and Beliefs (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, Hebrew University, 1975), 594–95. 176. T Hagigah 2.9; BT Sanhedrin 88b; Sotah 47a. 177. M Shabbat 1:4. 178. 2 Cor 11:23–27. 179. Rom 15:24–29. 180. Acts 28:30–31. 181. 1 Clem 5:5–7 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 182. Udo Schnelle, Apostle Paul: His Life and Theology (trans. M. Eugene Boring; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2005), 381–86. 183. 2 Tim 4:10–17. 184. 2 Tim 4:7. 185. Matt 16:19. 186. John 21:15–17. 187. 1 Clem. 5:4–6:1; John 21:18–19; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.25.5) relies on earlier independent witnesses, Dionysius, bishop of Corinth (ca. 170), and the Roman presbyter Gaius (ca 200); Origen is the source for the claim that Peter was crucified head down (Hist. eccl. 3.1.2–3); Acts of Peter 35–37, in New Testament Apocrypha 2.314–15. 188. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.23.4–18. 189. Josephus, Ant. 20.200 (trans. L. H. Feldman, LCL). 190. Mark 13:13. 191. Seutonius, Vespasian 7. 192. Meir Ben Dov, Historical Atlas of Jerusalem (New York: Continuum, 2002), 141, describes the kilns; on Emmaus, Josephus, J.W. 7.217; the site is generally identified with the Emmaus of Luke 24:13; although another Emmaus, later named Nicopolis, is possible; HJPJC 2 1:512–13; 2:193. 193. Suetonius, Domitian 20. 194. Suetonius, Domitian 13 (trans, J. C. Rolfe, LCL); Dio, History 67.4.7. 195. Suetonius, Domitian 12. 196. Dio, Roman History 67.14.2 (trans. E. Cary, LCL). 197. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.18.4; 1 Clem. 6–7. 198. Rev 6:9; 7:14; 12:11; 20:4. 199. J. Spencer Trimingham, Christianity among the Arabs in Pre-Islamic Times (Beirut: Librairie du Liban, 1979), 50–53. 200. C. Haas, Alexandria in Late Antiquity: Topography and Social Conflict (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1997) 101, n. 29. 201. Dio, Roman History 68.32.1–2 (trans. E. Cary, LCL); Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.2, provides a more sober account. 202. Joseph Modrzejewski, The Jews of Egypt: From Rameses II to Emperor Hadrian (trans. Robert Cornman; foreword by Shaye J. D. Cohen; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1995), 198–205, provides a judicious review of the evidence; see also G. Alon, The Jews in Their Land in the Talmudic Age (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1994), 409–12. 203. Haas, Alexandria, 100; CPJ 438. 204. Dio, Roman History 68.32–33; cf. 65.4. One manuscript (Cambridge) “War of Qitos” in M Sotah 9:14, others have war of Titus, following war of Vespasian. Other evidence points to some event in Palestine under Trajan, but nothing is compelling. See HJPJC 2 1:533–34, for full discussion. 205. Dio, Roman History 68.18.21, 30. 206. Appian, Civil Wars 2.90.380 (trans. H. White, LCL).


207. Modrezejewski, Jews of Egypt, 218. 208. Haas, Alexandria, 103. 209. Josephus, Life 1.429. 210. Hayim Lapin, Early Rabbinic Civil Law and the Social History of Roman Galilee: A Study of Mishnah Tractate Baba’ Mez.i‘a’ (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995), 6. 211. James B. Rives, Religion in the Roman Empire (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2007). 212. Philo, Embassy 200–203. 213. Shaye J. D. Cohen, “The Significance of Yavneh: Pharisees, Rabbis, and the End of Jewish Sectarianism,” HUCA 55 (1984): 27–53; From the Maccabees to the Mishnah (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987), 214–32. 214. Josephus, Ant. 15.1–4, 370; M Avot 1.10–11; HJPJC 2 2:262–63. 215. Gamaliel the Elder: Acts 5:34; M Avot 1:16. Simeon b. Gamaliel: Josephus, J.W. 4.159; Life 190–191, 309; M Avot 1:17. Gamaliel II: M Avot 1:18. 216. M Avot 3:2. 217. DAR 239–44; all the evidence for Johanan b. Zakkai is collected and evaluated in Jacob Neusner, First-Century Judaism in Crisis: Yohanan ben Zakkai and the Renaissance of Torah (Nashville: Abingdon, 1975); the author, however, has since rejected much of his analysis as too accepting of the traditions. 218. Avot of Rabbi Nathan (A) 6; M Avot 2:8; DAR 140–44. 219. DAR 259–64. 220. H. Lapin, “Rabbi,” ABD 5.600–602; E. F. Ferguson, “Ordain—Ordination,” ABD 5.37–40. 221. Hos 6:6; Avot of Rabbi Nathan (A) 4. 222. Ecclesiastes Rabbah 9.7. 223. “Johanan ben Zakkai engaged in commerce forty years, studied Torah forty years, and served Israel forty years” (Genesis Rabbah 100.24 [Soncino, 100:10]). 224. BT Berakhot 28b. 225. DAR 153–58. 226. M Rosh Hashanah 4.1 227. M Eduyot 2:4; M Ketuvot 4:6; PT Berakhot 4.1 [Neusner II:8 W]. 228. Mark 13:9; Matt 5:22; 10:17; Jesus was condemned by a council (synedrion) convened by the high priest (Mark 14:55); Josephus (J.W. 1.537) mentions the councils summoned by Herod to settle royal disputes; and a council convened by Agrippa II at the request of the Levites (Ant. 10.216–217). For a thorough discussion, see E. P. Sanders, Practice and Belief, 458–90. 229. M Sotah 9:11; BT Ketuvot 30a–b. See D. Goodblatt, The Monarchic Principle: Studies in Jewish Self-government in Antiquity (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994), 232–76; C. Hezser, The Social Structure of the Rabbinic Movement in Roman Palestine (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 185–226. 230. M Eduyot 7:7; Hebrew, reshut. 231. T Sanhedrin 2.13; BT Sanhedrin 11a. 232. Shaye J. D. Cohen, “The Rabbi in Second-Century Jewish Society,” CHJ 3:922–90. 233. T Pisha [Pesahim] 3:11. 234. M Bava Qamma 7:7. 235. BT Bava Metzi’a 59a; translation Soncino, altered for clarity. 236. M Rosh Hashanah 2:8–9; Alon, Jews in Their Land, 317–22. 237. PT Berakhot 4.1 [Neusner, II:8]; BT Berakhot 27b–28a; DAR 124–27. 238. Minor Tractates Kallah Rabbati 7; Derek Eretz Rabbah 5. 239. M Yadaim 3:5; the status of “renders the hands unclean” is idiom for declaring a book sacred. 240. The current discussion on the council of Yavneh is surveyed by Jack P. Lewis, “Jamnia Revisited,” in The Canon Debate (ed. L. M. MacDonald and J. A. Sanders; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002), 146–62.

750 Notes to pages 265–73 241. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 1.37–42, speaks of the five books of Moses, thirteen books of the Prophets, and four collections of hymns and precepts for the conduct of life. If Josephus refers to the entire corpus of Hebrew Scriptures now accepted, the 13 books of the prophets may have been grouped as follows: (1) Joshua, (2) Judges and Ruth, (3) Samuel, (4) Kings, (5) Chronicles, (6) Ezra and Nehemiah, (7) Esther, (8) Job, (9) Isaiah, (10) Jeremiah and Lamentations, (11) Ezekiel, (12) Minor Prophets, (13) Daniel; the four books of writings were probably (1) Psalms, (2) Song of Songs, (3) Proverbs, (4) Ecclesiastes (from H. St. J. Thackery, in the LCL of Ag. Ap., 179 nn. b, c. 242. 4 Ezra 14:45–46. The 22 (Josephus) and 24 (4 Ezra) book collection can be reconciled by different groupings, but that does not mean they agreed on the list of books. 243. BT Bava Batra 14b–15a. See J. N. Lightstone, “The Rabbis’ Bible: The Canon of the Hebrew Bible and the Early Rabbinic Guild,” in The Canon Debate (ed. L. M. MacDonald and J. A. Sanders; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002), 163–84; J. A. Sanders, “The Issue of Closure in the Canonical Process,” in The Canon Debate (ed. L. M. MacDonald and J. A. Sanders; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002), 252–63. 244. DAR 172–74. 245. Ecclesiastes Rabbah 1:8 (= 1:25, Soncino); 7:26 (= 7:39), BT Sanhedrin 32b; HJB 1:129, dates his departure around 100; R. Travers Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Midrash (London: Williams & Norgate, 1903; repr., Jersey City, N.J.: Ktav, 2007), 211–15. 246. Rev 1:11. 247. CHC 1:337. 248. Some early Christian fathers identified this Clement with Paul’s colleague (Phil 4:3), but the earliest references make no such association, and it is unlikely due to the distance between Philippi and Rome, and the fact that Clement was a common name. 249. Matt 10:17–18. 250. John 16:2. 251. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.19–20 (trans. K. Lake, LCL); see also Martin Goodman, “Messianism and Politics in the Land of Israel,” in Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity (ed. M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget; London: T&T Clark, 2007), 149–57. 252. Rev 2:9; 3:9. 253. Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1997), 7. 254. Ignatius, Trallians 9. 255. Ignatius, Romans 2–3. 256. Pliny the Younger, Epistle 10.96; J. Stevenson, A New Eusebius (2d rev. ed.; W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1987), no. 16 (18–20). 257. Pliny the Younger, Epistle 10.97; Stevenson, New Eusebius, no. 17 (20–21). 258. Historia Augusta, Hadrian 15.10. 259. Historia Augusta, Hadrian 26.1. 260. Historia Augusta, Hadrian 5.2. 261. Acts of the Pagan Martyrs 49–60. 262. Michael Avi-Yonah, The Holy Land: A Historical Geography (Jerusalem: Carta, 2002), 111. 263. Epiphanius, Measures and Weights 14. 264. Genesis Rabbah 64:10; see also HJPJC 2 1:535–36. 265. Megillat Ta’anit, ed. Hans Lichtenstein, “Die Fastenrolle: eine Untersuchung zur Jüdische-hellenistischen Geschichte,” HUCA 8–9 (1931–1932): 257–351, here 346; PT Tan’anit 2.13, 66a; Megillah 1.6, 70c; for analysis of the evidence, see Louis Finkelstein, Akiba: Scholar, Saint and Martyr (New York: Covici, Friede, 1936; reprint 1990), appendix H. 266. Barn. 16:4, (trans. Ehrman, LCL). 267. Dio, Roman History 69.12–14.3; 15.1; see extensive commentary by Stern, GLAJJ 2.390–405. 268. Historia Augusta, Hadrian 14.2 (trans. A. O’Brien-Moore, LCL).


269. Peter Schäfer, The History of the Jews in Antiquity: The Jews of Palestine from Alexander the Great to the Arab Conquest (New York: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1995), 146–48; for the view that circumcision was banned, and other factors leading up to the war, see G. Alon, The Jews in Their Land in the Talmudic Age (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1994), 570–91. 270. A. Oppenheimer, “The Ban on Circumcision as a Cause of the Revolt: A Reconsideration,” in The Bar Kokhba War Reconsidered (ed. Peter Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr, 2003), 55–69, here 68. 271. So R. Abusch, “Negotiating the Difference: Genital Mutilation in Roman Slave Law and the History of the Bar Kokhba Revolt,” in The Bar Kokhba War Reconsidered (ed. Peter Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr, 2003), 71–91. 272. PT Ta’anit 4.5 [Neusner, VII:1 G–I]; Lamentations Rabbah 2.5; Judah Nadich, Rabbi Akiba and His Contemporaries (Northvale, N.J.: Jason Aronson, 1998), 95. 273. Johanan b. Torta is associated with no legal rulings, and only one haggadah, Tosefta Menakhot 13.22; Peter Schäfer, “Bar Kokhba and the Rabbis,” in The Bar Kokhba War Reconsidered (ed. Peter Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr, 2003), 1–22. 274. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.6.2–4 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 275. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.4; Jerome, Apology in Response to Rufinius 3.3; BT Sanhedrin 93b. 276. Dio, Roman History 69.13.1–2 (trans. E. Cary, LCL). 277. Justin, Apology 1.31–32; J. Stevenson, A New Eusebius, no. 19 (22); see also Oskar Skarsaune, The Proof from Prophecy: A Study in Justin Martyr’s Prooftext Tradition: Texttype, Provenance, Theological Profile (Leiden: Brill, 1987), 228–34. 278. Mark 13:28–30; see Richard J. Bauckham, “Jews and Christians in the Land of Israel at the Time of the Bar Kochba War, with Special Reference to the Apocalypse of Peter,” in Tolerance and Intolerance in Early Judaism and Christianity (ed. C. N. Stanton and G. G. Strousma; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 228–38. 279. Alon, The Jews in Their Land, 628–30, makes the important observation that Jewish believers (perhaps called Christians) nevertheless wished to be counted as Jews and therefore were seen as opponents of the war effort. 280. PT Ta’anit 4.5 [Neusner, VII:1 PP]. 281. Dio, Roman History 69.14.3 (trans. E. Cary, LCL); Schäfer, History of the Jews, 159. 282. Dio, Roman History 69.14.3 (trans. E. Cary, LCL). 283. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.6.3. 284. Yaron Z. Eliav, “The Urban Layout of Aelia Capitolina,” in The Bar Kokhba War Reconsidered (ed. Peter Schäfer; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 241–77. Eusebius (Life of Constantine 3.26 [NPNF 2, 1.527]) tells us of a shrine to Venus erected near the tomb of Jesus and the tomb cave itself was buried, though he does not say when the shrine was built. Jerome says a statue of Jupiter was placed on the site of the resurrection of Jesus, and a Venus statue on the supposed site of the crucifixion (Letter to Paulinus, Ep. 58). In fact we have little confident knowledge about Aelia Capitolina. Our literary sources are late and often unreliable, and the archaeological evidence for the entire city is scarce, ambiguous, and remains highly disputed. 285. So named in a document dated to 139, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum XVI 87; cited in Schäfer, History of the Jews, 161 n. 38. Appian, Roman History 50.251–253, refers to the Jews by the geographical name Palestine, without indicating it has been officially renamed: “In this way the Romans, without fighting, came into possession of Cilicia, inland Syria and CoeleSyria, Phoenicia, Palestine, and all the other countries bearing the Syrian name from the Euphrates to Egypt and the sea. The Jewish nation alone still resisted and Pompey conquered them, sent their king, Aristobulus, to Rome, and destroyed their greatest, and to them holiest, city, Jerusalem, as Ptolemy, the first king of Egypt had formerly done. It was afterward rebuilt and Vespasian destroyed it again, and Hadrian did the same in our time. On account of those rebellions the poll tax imposed upon all Jews is heavier than that imposed upon the surrounding peoples” (GLAJJ 2:179); Mary E. Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian (Leiden: Brill, 1981), 463–64 n. 140, “Julius Severus

752 Notes to pages 276–84 is legate of Judaea in ILS (Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae, ed. H. Dessau [1892–1916]), 1056 but of Syria Palaestina on AE (L’Année Epigraphique) 1904, 9.” Hadrian continued to mint coins with Judaea renascens depicted as a woman greeting the emperor who will revitalize her. The old provincial name of Judaea was still in use between 170 and 181 under Marcus Aurelius (Smallwood, Jews, Appendix A, 552). 286. Genesis Rabbah 10.3; 28.3; Sib. Or. 5.48. 287. Ephrat Habas, “Rabban Gamaliel of Yavneh and his Sons: The Patriarchate before and after the Bar Kokhva Revolt,” Journal of Jewish Studies 50/1 (1999): 21–37. 288. BT Pesachim 49b; DAR 53–67; all the legends of Akiba have been assembled in a biographical but somewhat uncritical manner by Louis Finkelstein, Akiba: Scholar, Saint and Martyr (New York: Covici, Friede, 1936). 289. BT Yevamot 86b; Avot of Rabbi Nathan (A) 6.29; M Yadaim 3:5. 290. BT Nedarim 50a. 291. BT Sanhedrin 32b; T Shabbat 3.3. 292. M Yevamot 16:7. 293. Pesikta de Rab Kahana, Piska 4.7 (trans. William G. Braude and Israel J. Kapstein; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1975). 294. BT Menahot 29b. 295. M Avot 3:14 [or 13]. 296. The verb is aleipho, used to describe the women who went to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus (Mark 16:1), or the anointing of Jesus’ feet by the woman (Luke 7:38–46), and anointing the sick with oil (Jas 5:14). See E. Tov, “The Septuagint,” in Martin Jan Mulder (ed.), Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading, and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988; repr. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004), 161–88, here 184. 297. M Avot 3:16 [or 15]. 298. Philo, Embassy 1.31–32 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL); Phil 2:6; Col 1:15. 299. T Shabbat 13.5; also BT Shabbat 116a; R. Travers Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Midrash (London: Williams & Norgate, 1903; repr., Jersey City, N.J.: Ktav, 2007), 155–57; in general, DAR 440–42. 300. Leviticus Rabbah 4.5; DAR 216–19. 301. DAR 236–37. 302. DAR 248–50. 303. T Yevamot 8:7; Lamentations Rabbah 1.1; DAR 90–92. 304. Exegesis, M Sotah 9:15; Shema, M Berakhot 1:5; Genesis Rabbah 4.6; DAR 95–97. 305. DAR 282; BT Sanhedrin 14a; Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 55. 306. BT Sanhedrin 68a; Smallwood, Jews under Roman Rule, 430, 465. 307. BT Sanhedrin 68a. 308. DAR 176–78. His village was north of Jotapata, Josephus, Life 51. 309. BT Avodah Zarah 18a. 310. BT Berakhot 61b. 311. PT Haggiah 2.1 [Neusner, III:8]; BT Haggigah 14b–15a; Kiddushin 39b; Hullin 142a; Ruth Rabbah 6:2. 312. Deut 22:6–7 nrsv. 313. DAR 176–78; but for critical assessment see Alon Goshen-Gottstein, The Sinner and the Amnesiac: The Rabbinic Invention of Elisha ben Abuya and Eleazar ben Arach (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2000). 314. BT Moed Katan 20a; M Avot 4:20. 315. T Hagigah 2.3–4; cf. BT Hagigah 14b. 316. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.4.1–3 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 317. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.7.1 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 318. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.3.2. 319. Aristides, Apology 12 (Syriac version), ANF 10. 320. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.39 (trans. Oulton, LCL).


321. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.165–167. 322. This reference is the only one given in Liddell and Scott, Greek-English Lexicon (9th ed.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1940) or in E. A. Sophocles, Greek Lexicon of the Roman and Byzantine Eras: From B.C. ca. 146 to A.D. 1100 (Boston: Little, Brown & Company, 1870) from the Greek texts used by them up to 1100 c.e.; see Theological Dictionary of the New Testament 3.910 n. 33. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, it is first attested in English with John Donne in 1622, which he described as “the immediate Government of God.” 323. Josephus, Ant. 4.223–224 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 324. The early Jewish struggle with the dualism of two powers is fully covered by Alan Segal, Two Powers in Heaven: Early Rabbinic Reports about Christianity and Gnosticism (Leiden: Brill, 2002). 325. Sir 32:1; Akiba (BT Ta’anit 25a). 326. The following quotes are all from Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.175–209 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL). 327. Paul Heger, The Pluralistic Halakhah: Legal Innovations in the Late Second Commonwealth and Rabbinic Periods (Berlin: Walter De Gruyter, 2003). 328. Ezra 4:13; Shmuel Safrai, “Halakha,” in The Literature of the Sages (CRINT 2.3; ed. S. Safrai; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1987), 121–209. 329. M Hagigah 1:8. 330. M Shevi’it 10:3. 331. Exod 23:19; 34:26; Deut 14:21. 332. Deut 22:6. 333. M Hullin 8:1–4. 334. Philo, Virtues 142–144 (trans. F. H. Colson, LCL). 335. Various commands in Gen 1–11 could be understood as laws: the desire of Adam and Eve to be like God (3:5) was blasphemy or idolatry; Cain’s murder of Abel (4:8–15) was condemned; God destroyed the earth by flood because of the human violence and commanded Noah, after he was spared, to neither shed blood nor eat blood (9:4–6). 336. Jub. 7.20, 29; trans. O. S. Wintermute, OTP 2:70. 337. Josephus, Ant. 1.99, basing his interpretation on Lev 17:14, “For the life of every creature is the blood of it; therefore I have said to the people of Israel, You shall not eat the blood of any creature, for the life of every creature is its blood; whoever eats it shall be cut off.” 338. Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.210–224. 339. T Avodah Zarah 8:4; BT Sanhedrin 56a. In the Tosefta passage, the prohibition of blood is missing in the Zuckermandel edition (473) and in the Neusner translation, but it is provided by other manuscripts and is required by the number seven. 340. BT Avodah Zarah 3a; Sanhedrin 59a; Bava Qamma 38a. 341. PT Shevi’it 4.2 [Neusner, I:3 A]; BT Sanhedrin 74a. 342. Ezek 34:24; 37:25. 343. Avot of Rabbi Nathan (B) 31 344. M Gittin 5:8; Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years (2d ed.; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), 519–29. 345. BT Sotah 40a; Rosh Hashanah 31b. 346. Catherine Hezser, The Social Structure of the Rabbinic Movement in Roman Palestine (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 119, citing Shaye J. D. Cohen, “Epigraphical Rabbis,” Jewish Quarterly Review 72 (1981–1982): 1–17. 347. Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 58. 348. M Yoma 7:1. 349. Luke 4:20. 350. T Megillah 3:21; Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 435–42. 351. Genesis Rabbah 81.2. 352. Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 429. 353. Ibid., 432, 509–11. 354. Josephus, Ant. 1.161 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL); Ag. Ap. 2.210.

754 Notes to pages 295–97 355. PT Qiddushin 3.12/3 (64d) [Neusner, II:7 R–S]. 356. M Qiddushin 3:12; see discussion of Shaye J. D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), 263–307, specifically 273–80 for the earliest evidence. Cohen rejects the modern explanation popular in America that the identity of the mother is assured, while that of the father open to doubt. 357. Gen 32:24–30 [mt and lxx 25–31]. 358. Jub. 32:17–20, Gen 35:9–10; see discussion by C. T. R. Hayward, Interpretations of the Name Israel in Ancient Judaism and Some Early Christian Writings (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 112–55. 359. Josephus, Ant. 1.331–334 (trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL); Louis Feldman, Josephus’s Interpretation of the Bible (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998); Hayward, Interpretations, 220–40. 360. Some scholars propose yesher (“purpose of mind”) rather than ish, hence “mind seeing God”; Lester Grabbe, Etymology in early Jewish Interpretation: The Hebrew Names in Philo (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988), 172–73. 361. Philo, Preliminary Studies 51 (trans. F. H. Colson and G. H. Whitaker, LCL); see also Dreams 1:129, 171; Confusio 56, 146; and in Alleg. Interp. 3.15, where Philo replaces “people of Israel” (Lev 15:31) with “sons of the seeing one”; for detailed treatments of the designation, see Ellen Birnbaum, The Place of Judaism in Philo’s Thought: Israel, Jews, Proselytes (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996), 30–127; and Hayward, Interpretations, 156–93. 362. Philo, Names 44–45; Heir 205–206; Hayward, Interpretations, 160–64. 363. Philo, Embassy 3 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL); reference on spiritual kinship: QE 2.35–36, in which he speaks of the two kinships, one of ancestry, the other among souls, which excludes polytheists, but not those who profess the wisdom of one God. 364. The biblical passage on the sojourner is Exod 22:20–21, which the lxx translates as proselyte; resident alien (Lev 19:34; Deut 10:19). Philo’s discussion is in QE 2.2; common kinship (QE 2.35–36); two circumcisions (QG 3.45–46). The precise understanding of the various comments by Jews in ancient literature on the Jewish acceptance of Gentiles is disputed, even if there is a strong consensus that full acceptance of a Gentile into the Jewish community as a Jew required for men the rite of circumcision. For an overview of the varieties of Gentile attachment to Judaism, see the analysis of Shaye J. D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), 140–74; and page 151 for his label “monotheistic proselyte.” The recent study by Terence L. Donaldson, Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (To 135 C.E.) (Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press, 2007) provides an exhaustive analysis of the relevant Jewish literature up to this period. 365. BT Megilah 13a. 366. Sacha Stern, Jewish Identity in Early Rabbinic Writings (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 199– 259; Graham Harvey, The True Israel: Uses of the Names Jew, Hebrew, and Israel in Ancient Jewish and Early Christian Literature (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 257–66; Hayward, Interpretations, 241–309. 367. Deut 7:3–4; Exod 34:15. 368. Jub. 30.7–17; Philo, Spec. Laws 3.29; Josephus, Ant. 4.191–192; 8.190–196; for thorough discussion, see Christine Hayes, Gentile Impurities and Jewish Identities: Intermarriage and Conversion from the Bible to the Talmud (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 24–34; and “Palestinian Rabbinic Attitudes to Intermarriage in Historical and Cultural Context,” in Jewish Culture and Society under the Christian Roman Empire (ed. Richard Kalmin and Seth Schwartz Leuven: Peeters, 2003), 11–64. 369. BT Yevamot 47b, 109b: BT Qiddushin 70a; see Marcel Simon, Verus Israel: A Study of the Relations between Christians and Jews in the Roman Empire (135–425) (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), 74–75; and Urbach, Sages, 550, who tempers the importance of the anti-proselyte attitude assigned by M. Simon.


370. Holy City (hieropolis) Flaccus 1.45–46; Holy Land (hieran choran) Embassy 205, 330; cf. Zech 2:12[16] (admat ha-qadosh); Wis of Sol 12:3; 2 Macc 1:8 ( gais hagias). 371. M Kelim 1:6. 372. A view expressed by R. Ishmael, BT Bava Batra 25a. 373. BT Ketubot 110b. 374. Initially proposed by J. Jeremias, The Prayers of Jesus (Naperville, Ill.: A. R. Allenson, 1967); rejected by Geza Vermes, The Religion of Jesus the Jew (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 180–83. 375. Phil 2:6–11 nrsv. 376. Larry W. Hurtado, How on Earth Did Jesus Become God? (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2005), 83–107; for the broader perspective into the second century, see Lord Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2003). 377. Matt 1:1–25; Luke 1:26–35; Mark 6:3 suggests some question of the paternity of Jesus by calling him the son of Mary, not of Joseph, a problem corrected by Matt 13:55. The famous controversy over the Greek (a version of the Septuagint) translation “virgin” (parthenos) for the Hebrew “young woman” (almah) of Isaiah 7:14, became a major dispute between Christians and their opponents, as will be noted further on. The most comprehensive study of the birth narratives of Jesus remains that of Raymond E. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke (New Haven: Yale University Press; Updated edition, 1999 [1977]); see also Davies and Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew, 1:196–221. 378. For an evaluation of Jesus and the Golden Rule, see John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew, vol. 4: Law and Love (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009), 551–57, who not only thinks Jesus never spoke it but in many respects, the teachings of Jesus undermine the reciprocity factor within the Golden Rule. 379. Ibid., 4:293–97, passim. The current movement to place Jesus back in his halakhic milieu was begun in earnest by E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), further elaborated in “The Synoptic Jesus and the Law,” in Jewish Law from Jesus to the Mishnah: Five Studies (Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990), 1–96; but he too built on the pioneering efforts of a few Christian and Jewish scholars of the twentieth century, sometimes called the “Jewish reclamation of Jesus.” For a recent and strong statement from the Jewish reclamation of Jesus perspective, see Amy-Jill Levine, The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006). 380. 1 Cor 10:32. 381. Acts 15:20–21, 29; 21:25. The textual history of the laws in verse 20 is complicated and their interpretation somewhat controversial, on which see C. K. Barrett, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles (2 vols.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark International, 1998, 2004), 2.730–36. 382. Rom 13:10; Gal 5:14; Jas 2:8. 383. Acts 6:13; Craig Hill, Hellenists and Hebrews (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992). 384. Richard J. Bauckham, “James and the Jerusalem Community,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 55–95. 385. Matt 17:24–27. 386. Acts 21:21–26. 387. 1 Cor 5:7. 388. Gal 3:27, “into Christ”; Did. 7:1–4. 389. For a recent collection of essays advocating a more active political agenda for Jesus, Paul, and others behind the New Testament, see Richard A. Horsley, ed., In the Shadow of Empire: Reclaiming the Bible as a History of Faithful Resistance (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2008). See also the more balanced views expressed by the several pertinent essays in Bockmuehl and Paget, eds., Resistance and Redemption. 390. James Tunstead Burtchaell, From Synagogue to Church: Public Services and Offices in the Earliest Christian Communities (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992).

756 Notes to pages 304–12 391. Mark 8:27–29 nrsv. 392. Heb 5:6; cf. 1 Clem. 64.1. 393. Both terms occur in Prov 5:14 (lxx): “I was well nigh in all evil in the midst of the congregation (ekklēsia) and assembly (synagōgos).” 394. 1 Cor 12:28; cf. Eph 4:11. 395. 2 Cor 8:23. 396. 2 Cor 11:13. 397. Prominence of prophecy (Acts 2:17–21 = Joel 2:28–32); among gifts (1 Cor 12:28); Paul’s exercise (1 Cor 14:6); false prophecy (1 John 4:1; 2 Pet 2:1). 398. 2 Tim 1:11. 399. Jesus in synagogues (Matt 9:35); teacher as rabbi (John 1:39; Matt 23:8); abuse of power (Eph 4:14; 1 Tim 4:1); Matthew warns (23:8); teacher evaluated (1 Tim 1:10; 2 Tim 4:3; Titus 1:9). 400. Acts 11:30; 14:23; 15:2. 401. 1 Thess 5:12. 402. Stephanas (1 Cor 16:15); Phoebe (Rom 16:1). 403. God (Job 20:29); Moses (Numbers 31:14). 404. Phil 1:1. 405. Prisca (Rom 16:3–5); Junia (Rom 16:7); Claudia (2 Tim 4:21); Apphia (Phlm 2); Euodia and Syntyche (Phil 4:2–3); for a thorough but readable study on women in the early church, see Philip B. Payne, Man and Woman, One in Christ: An Exegetical and Theological Study of Paul’s Letters (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2009). 406. Elders elected (Titus 1:5; 1 Pet 5:1, 5); women deacons (Rom 16:1; 1 Tim 3:11); Pliny (Epistle 96.8); duties (Titus 1:6–9; 1 Tim 3:2–7; Did. 15.1); Christ as bishop (1 Pet 2:25). 407. 1 Cor 14:40; and in the early postapostolic age (ca. 95–100), Did. 10.7 asserts, “But permit the prophets to give thanks however they wish.” 408. Lost sheep (10:6); Gentiles (15:24–28). 409. Gal 1:15–16; Rom 11:13. 410. Rom 2:28–29 nrsv. 411. Gal 3:28. 412. Gal 6:15–16 nrsv. 413. Longnecker, Galatians, 298–99; Harvey, True Israel, 226. 414. 1 Cor 10:18; 2 Cor 3:7, 13. 415. Rom 9:27–28; Isa 10:22. 416. Hayward, Interpretations, 327–28, 356; Rom 11:1–2. 417. Rev 2:9; 3:9. 418. Mark 15:31–32 nrsv. 419. Harvey, True Israel, 233–34. 420. Matt 2:6; Mic 5:2; Matt 2:6; 10:6. 421. Gen 28:11–19; John 1:50–51 nrsv; Hayward, Interpretations, 312–20. 422. 1 Clem. 31–32. 423. Barn. 5.2; 16. 424. 1 Cor 11:25; many scholars think Jesus may have only referred to the cup as “the covenant in my blood” rather than the “new covenant,” but Paul’s tradition goes back to the first decade, well before the Gospels, and it seems likely Jesus did make such a reference to his impending death. 425. 1 Pet 4:16; the two other occurrences are Acts 11:26; 26:28. 426. Christianity is used in Philadelphians 6.1; Magnesians 10.1, 3; Romans 3.3. 427. Josephus, Ant. 18.64 (trans. L. H. Feldman, LCL). 428. Josephus: locusts (Ant. 2.306); Parthians (J.W. 2.379); Egyptians (Ag. Ap. 2.128); Jews (J.W. 3.354; 7.327); Strabo (Antiquities 14.115); also of Jews in 3 Macc 4:14; 5:5. 429. Josephus, Ant. 20.195. 430. Augustine, City of God 6.11, following analysis by Stern in GLAJJ 1:429–30. 431. 1 Cor 7:12–15; 2 Cor 6:14.


432. Ignatius, Smyrneans 8.2; Philo, Embassy 194 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL). 433. Believers as temple (1 Cor 3:16); Abraham’s promise (Rom 4:13); heavenly Jerusalem (11:13–12:22); body of Jesus (John 4:7–15). 434. Gerd Theissen, The Religion of the Earliest Churches: Creating a Symbolic World (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999), 22. 435. 2 Cor 11:22; Rom 11:1; Phil 3:5–6; Gal 1:14–16. 436. The English word “conversion” is used two ways in antiquity: within the Jewish covenant, it could mean to repent and turn around; Jews abandoning Judaism for another religion, or for those outside Judaism, entering into Judaism from another religion. Paul may be called a convert in the first sense but not in the second sense, which goes by the technical Greek term “proselyte,” and with respect to Paul, this is how the modern debate uses the word. On the meaning of conversion, see the helpful discussion of Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple, 354–57. For the view that Paul was a convert to Christianity, see A. Segal, Paul the Convert: The Apostolate and Apostasy of Saul the Pharisee (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990); and P. T. O’Brien, “Was Paul Converted?” in Justification and Variegated Nomism, vol. 2: The Paradoxes of Paul (ed. D. A. Carson et al.; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2004), 393–436. For a thoroughly argued rejection of the notion of conversion as applied to Paul’s transformation, see J. Gager, Reinventing Paul (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 21–75, and Pamela Eisenbaum, Paul Was Not a Christian: The Original Message of a Misunderstood Apostle (New York: HarperCollins, 2009). 437. The “New Perspective” is a term coined by James G. D. Dunn to describe the paradigm shift in the academic study of Paul launched by E. P. Sanders in Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1997). According to the New Perspective, Paul did not reject his Judaism because it was an oppressive legalistic religion that had ignored God’s grace (Luther’s interpretation of Paul’s epistle to the Romans and Judaism); rather, Paul rejected the markers of Jewishness (circumcision, sabbath, and diet) as the only means of reconciliation between God and humanity. Now everyone entered into the covenant through the death of Christ. Aside from that conflict with certain of the Jewish believers, and of course with the Jews among whom he had once labored, Paul thought Judaism was divinely ordained, essentially good, and Jews had always relied on God’s grace expressed in his choosing of Israel. In Sanders’s often quoted phrase: “This is what Paul finds wrong with Judaism: it is not Christianity” (552). As we have noted, however, Paul apparently never heard the word “Christianity,” so it should perhaps be replaced with “his Judaism” or “his gospel.” 438. Acts 16:3. 439. Rom 9:2–5 nrsv. 440. Rom 11:25–27; Isa 59:20–21; Jer 31:33. 441. 1 Cor 15:28 nrsv; M Sanhedrin 10:1. For the interpretation followed here, see J. G. D. Dunn, Romans 9–16 (WBC 38B), 677–84. 442. J. A. Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990); A. J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Jewish Christian Community (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); David Sim, The Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism: The History and Social Setting of the Matthean Community (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998). 443. Even scholars who place the incident at Antioch after the Jerusalem council (Acts 15) may argue that the men from James were only insisting that the rules of separate but equal apply, unless the kosher laws were strictly applied; the men acted on their own accord, claiming authority from James; James changed his mind; Luke has inserted the ruling of James into the council, but in fact it came later. The argument that the Jewish believers completely withdrew from any relationship with the Gentile believers because James insisted on complete separation and the Gentile congregation died out or converted to Judaism, so there was no Gentile Christian church in Antioch for some decades, builds too much on an argument of silence. 444. The terminology often used; for example, Sim, Gospel of Matthew and Christian Judaism.

758 Notes to pages 317–26 445. Matt 16:15–19 nrsv. 446. W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (3 vols.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997, 2004), 2:639; Donald A. Hagner, Matthew (WBC 33B; Dallas: Word, 1993), 473. 447. J.W. 7.46–53; 100–111; Josephus is silent on the destruction of the synagogue; the account comes from John Malalas, The Chronicle of John Malalas (trans. Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott; Melbourne: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies; Sydney: University of Sydney, 1986), 10.45. 448. Matt 5:11. 449. M Sotah 3:4; BT Sotah 22b; Avot of Rabbi Nathan A 37; Avot of Rabbi Nathan B 45; PT Berakhot 9:5 [Neusner, I:2 C–I]; Sotah 5:7 [Neusner, I:3 A–I]; Moore, Judaism, 2:193–94; George Foot Moore, Judaism in the First Centuries of the Christian Era, the Age of the Tannaim (3 vols.; New York, Schocken, 1971; repr., Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004), 2:193–94. 450. Matt 2:23 nrsv. 451. Ignatius, Smyrnians 1.2. 452. Ignatius, Magnesians 10 (trans. Ehrman, LCL). 453. Ignatius, Philadelphians 8.2. 454. Ignatius, Philadelphians 6.1. 455. See Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 70–170 C.E. (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress Press, 1995), 164–65; S. J. D Cohen, “Judaism without Circumcision and ‘Judaism’ without ‘Circumcision’ in Ignatius,” Harvard Theological Review 95/4 (2002): 395–415; O. Skarsaune, Jewish Believers, 505–10. 456. Did. 14.1. 457. Rev 1:10. 458. Pliny, Epistle 96.7; Stevenson, New Eusebius, no. 16 (18–20); Richard J. Bauckham, “The Lord’s Day,” in From Sabbath to Lord’s Day: A Biblical, Historical, and Theological Investigation (ed. D. A. Carson; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1982), 238–40. 459. Justin, First Apology 67; see also Oskar Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Influences on Early Christianity (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 377–88, for additional discussion, although as will be seen, I have some reservations on his interpretation of the sources. 460. Rom 14:5; cf. Col 2:16–17; Acts 20:6, 16. 461. Ignatius, Magnesians 9:1; trans. Holmes, Apostolic Fathers. 462. Hegesippus in Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.22.5. 463. Barn. 15:8–9; trans. Holmes, Apostolic Fathers. 464. Richard J. Bauckham, “Sabbath and Sunday in the Post-Apostolic Church,” in From Sabbath to Lord’s Day: A Biblical, Historical, and Theological Investigation (ed. D. A. Carson; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1982), 273–75. 465. Eucharist, 1 Cor 11:20–34; agape, Jude 12; 2 Pet 2:13. 466. 1 Cor 11:24; Matt 26:27; Luke 22:15–20; Mark 14:22–25; only the Lukan version describes the wine symbolic of the blood of the new covenant, in agreement with the tradition Paul says he received. 467. T Berakhot 3:25; BT Berakhot 28b. See R. Kimelman, “Birkat ha-Minim and the Lack of Evidence for an Anti-Christian Jewish Prayer in Late Antiquity,” in Jewish and Christian Self-Definition: Aspects of Judaism in the Greco-Roman Period (ed. E. P. Sanders et al.; 2 vols.; London: SCM, 1981), 2:226–44. 468. Palestinian recension, given in Pieter W. van der Horst, Hellenism—Judaism—Christianity: Essays on Their Interaction (Kampen, the Netherlands: Kok Pharos, 1994), 99–111. 469. T Sanhedrin 13:5; with the caveat that it may represent more of a third-century attitude than the time of the birkat ha-minim. 470. T Hullin 2.22–23; Talmudic parallels and discussion in Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 103–8; Peter Schäfer, Jesus in the Talmud (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007), 51–56.


471. T Hullin 2:24; BT Avodah Zarah 16b–17a (Soncino translation, altered); the later development found in the Babylonian Talmud identifies Jacob as a disciple of Jesus the Notsri and provides the teaching. See analysis of Schäfer, Jesus in the Talmud, 41–51; and R. Kalmin, “Christians and Heretics in Rabbinic Literature of Late Antiquity,” HTR 87/2 (1994): 155–69, who notes that the later Babylonian tradition has essentially made Jesus a rabbi. While the later positive view cannot be ascribed to the earlier preservation of the tradition, it is consonant with the positive response of Eliezer. 472. Mosaic law of inheritance is based on Num 27:8; but there is no rule in the Gospels, or the entire New Testament, that says sons and daughters inherit alike, though it may have been an independent tradition known to some. 473. BT Shabbat 116a–b. 474. The translation of “bushel-carrier” and the entire argument of the parody follows Burton L. Visotzky, “Overturning the Lamp,” Journal of Jewish Studies 38 (1987), reprinted in Fathers of the World: Essays in Rabbinic and Patristic Literatures (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995), 75–92. 475. BT Hagigah 5b. 476. T Sanhedrin 9.7; the Mishnah (6:4) states, “On what account has this one been hanged? Because he cursed the Name, so the Name of Heaven turned out to be profaned” (trans. of Tosefta and Mishnah, Neusner).

Notes to Part 4 1. Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (6 vols.; repr., London: Allan Lane, 1994), 1:101–2. 2. Dio, Roman History 71.2.2–4. 3. Thomas S. Burns, Rome and the Barbarians: 100 B.C.–A.D. 400 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2003), 230; citing R. Littman and M. Littman, “Galen and the Antonine Plague,” American Journal of Philology 94 (1973): 243–55. 4. Historia Augusta, Marcus 22.2, cited and translated by Burns, Rome and the Barbarians, 234. 5. Dio, Roman History 71.8; Tertullian, Apology 5.6; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.5, crediting Apollinaris of Hieropolis. 6. Dio, Roman History 71.25; see GLAJJ 2.406 for Stern’s analysis. 7. Historia Augusta, Antoninus Pius 5.4–5; Mary E. Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian (Leiden: Brill, 1981), 467–69. 8. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 45. 9. BT Shabbat 33b. 10. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 18–19. 11. BT Yevamot 62a. 12. BT Sanhedrin 32b; DAR 250–51. 13. Genesis Rabbah 68.4. 14. DAR 285–87. 15. BT Gittin 56a; Meir is mistakenly omitted in DAR. 16. BT Eruvin 13b. 17. T Kelim Bava Metzi’a 1.6. 18. Preserved in Yalqut 964 to Proverbs; see the Jewish Encyclopedia for this and other traditions about Beruriah. 19. BT Shabbat 33b. 20. PT Shevi’it 9.1 [Neusner, II:4 A]; DAR 409–16. 21. BT Ketubot 40a; DAR 119–20. 22. The lives of Josiah and Jonathan and the early training of Nathan are all based on the reconstruction by HJB 1:79–82, 137–44; for Josiah, see also the entry in DAR 269.

760 Notes to pages 338–47 23. See previous section 10.2.2. 24. HJB 1:79–82. 25. PT Sanhedrin 1.2 [II:11–12]; BT Berakhot 63a; HJB 1:124–30; Akiba’s intercalation in Nehardea (omitted in the PT version), M Yevamot 16:7; see also I. Gafni, Land, Center and Diaspora: Jewish Constructs in Late Antiquity (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 103–11, who makes the comparison with Jeroboam (1 Kgs 12:32–33). 26. BT Horayot 13b; DAR 318–19. 27. The political interpretation is made by Neusner, HJB 1:80–85. 28. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 56–57. 29. M Ketubot 11:5. 30. T Ketubot 12.5. 31. T Avodah Zarah 4:4. 32. BT Ketubot 110b. 33. PT Kilaim 9.3 [Neusner, I:10]. 34. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 27. 35. M Berakhot 9:1. 36. BT Berakhot 54a; Josephus says about the pillar of salt: “for I have seen it, and it remains at this day” (Ant. 1.203 [trans. H. St. J. Thackeray, LCL]). 37. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 1.5; 3.16. 38. Melito, in Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.26.10; one of the martyrs who died with Justin in Rome was a slave of Caesar; references in Haines, Marcus Aurelius (trans. C. R. Haines, LCL), 387. 39. Acts of Christian Martyrs, 23–25. 40. Martydom of Polycarp 12–18. 41. Oskar Skarsaune, “Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 522–24; see also Judith M. Lieu, Image and Reality: The Jews in the World of the Christians in the Second Century (London: T&T Clark, 1996), 57–94. 42. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.1.4 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 43. J. Stevenson, A New Eusebius (2d ed.; rev. W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1987), no. 24 (44–45). 44. Ibid., nos. 110, 111 (131–132). 45. Municius Felix, Octavius 9.5–6; The Octavius of Marcus Minucius Felix (Ancient Christian Writers 39; trans. and annotated G. W. Clarke; New York: Newman Press, 1974). A similar ritual is attributed to a “Christian” sect called Carpocratians by Clement of Alexandria (Miscellanies 3.2.10). 46. Selected Satires of Lucian (ed. and trans. L. Casson; Chicago: Aldine, 1962), 368–69. 47. On the friendship of Celsus and Lucian, see James Francis, Subversive Virtue: Asceticism and Authority in the Second-Century Pagan World (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1995), 133–35. The standard text on Celsus is Henry Chadwick, Origen: Contra Celsum (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980). For the text of Celsus excerpted from Origen’s work in a smooth translation, see R. Joseph Hoffman, Celsus: On the True Doctrine (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987). 48. Joseph Klausner, Jesus of Nazareth: His Life, Times, and Teaching (Boston: Beacon Press, 1964), 18–54; Morton Smith, Jesus the Magician (New York: Harper & Row, 1978); R. Joseph Hoffmann, Jesus outside the Gospels (New York: Prometheus, 1987). 49. Justin, Apology 1.26. 50. Acts of Christian Martyrs, 43–47. 51. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.26.7–8 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 52. Robert Grant, Gnosticism and Early Christianity (rev. ed.; New York: Harper & Row, 1966); and more recently defended by Carl B. Smith, No Longer Jews: The Search for Gnostic Origins (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004). 53. Birger A. Pearson, Ancient Gnosticism: Traditions and Literature (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), provides an exceptionally clear description of the main forms of Gnosticism.


There are, however, misgivings among a number of scholars on the accuracy of lumping Valentinus and others into the category of Gnostic, distinctly separated from Christianity. See, for example, Ismo O. Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism: Myth, Lifestyle, and Society in the School of Valentinus (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008). 54. Tertullian, Against the Valentinians 4; Clement, Miscellanies 7.106. 55. Pearson, Ancient Gnosticism, 145–89. 56. Ibid., 134–44. 57. Translated “Advocate” or “Comforter” in John 15:26. 58. Stevenson, New Eusebius, no. 89 (107); Epiphanius, Panerion 48, 49; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.16. For a recent survey of the Montanists, see William Tabbernee, Prophets and Gravestones (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2009). 59. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.2; Stevenson, New Eusebius, no. 93 (111–112). 60. The legal act of adoption (adoptio) brought someone outside a family into its sphere of influence and under the legal power of the head of the household, granting the adoptee the rights and privileges of the new family. Among rulers, this was especially for the right of succession, as when Julius Caesar adopted Octavian and Octavian Augustus adopted Tiberius. By the time of Severus, the assembly authorized to make the adoption simply approved a potentate’s request to be adopted into a previous family, thereby granting him the prestige he sought. 61. CIJ 2:157–59, no. 972; quoted from Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 77. 62. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 77; Smallwood, Jews under Roman Rule, 488–90, citing Eusebius Chronicle 197; Orosius 7.17.3. See also Jerome, Chronicle, 244th Olympiad. Cited 26 August 2009. Online http:/www.tertullian.org/fathers/Jerome_ chronicle_03_part2.htm. 63. Historia Augusta, Severus 17.1; Smallwood, Jews under Roman Rule, 500. 64. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.12.1. 65. C. S. Mackay, Ancient Rome: A Military and Political History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 243. 66. Historia Augusta, Severus Alexander 29.2 (trans. A. O’Brien-Moore, LCL). 67. Alexander Scheiber, Jewish Inscriptions in Hungary, from the 3rd century to 1686 (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó; Leiden: Brill, 1983), 29–30; I follow the translation by L. Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 297, who renders spondill as flautist. 68. Historia Augusta, Elagabalus 3.5; Severus Alexander 22.4; 28.7; 29.2. 69. Philostratus in Honor of Apollonius of Tyana (trans. and introduction J. S. Phillimore; 2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1912). 70. Sacha Stern, “Rabbi and the Origins of the Patriarchate,” Journal of Jewish Studies 54/2 (2003): 193–215. 71. Genesis Rabbah 58; Ecclesiastes Rabnah 1.10; BT Qiddushin 72b; DAR 269–78. 72. A. I. Baumgarten, “The Politics of Reconciliation: The Education of Judah the Prince,” in Jewish and Christian Self-Definition (ed. E. P. Sanders with A. I. Baumgarten and Alan Mendelson; vol. 2; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), 213–25. 73. BT Bava Metzi’a 84b. 74. Seth Schwartz, “The Patriarchs and the Diaspora,” Journal of Jewish Studies 50/2 (1999): 208–22; his view that Judah I was more significant in the Diaspora than in Palestine, is debatable, but the evidence is sparse. 75. Origene, La Lettre a Africanus sur l’histoire de Suzanne, Sources Chretiennes CCCII (ed. N. de Lange; Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1983), 566. Epistle to Africanus (14); trans. Lee I. Levine, “Jewish Patriarch,” Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kulture Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung (ed. H. Tempirini and W. Haase; Berlin: De Gruyter, 1972–), II 19.2.662–63; also cited in CHJ 4:419, with modifications. It is possible that Origen has in mind Judah II (ca. 235–260), grandson of Judah I, but whatever privileges Judah II retained will have begun under Judah I. Minimalist historians, like Seth Schwartz, Imperialism and Jewish Society (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001), 113, 211, give

762 Notes to pages 357–63 the passage little weight, but Origen does say the power was granted by Caesar, and he did live during and after the time of Judah I. Origen notes in Commentary on Romans 6.7 that Jews did not have the right of capital punishment. For a strong assessment of the power of Judah I as an ethnarch, see Glen W. Bowersock, “The Greek Moses,” in H. Lapin, ed., Religious and Ethnic Communities in Later Roman Palestine (Bethesda, Md.: University Press of Maryland, 1998), 31–48. 76. M Gittin 9:8. 77. Schwartz, Imperialism and Jewish Society, 115 n. 34; Germans (PT Shabbat 6.9 [Neusner, III:1 T]; Yoma 8:5 [Neusner, II:1 G]); Goths (Horayot 3.2 [Neusner, I:1 J] = Sanhedrin 2.1 [Neusner, I:4 D]). 78. M Shevi’it 6:4; PT Megillah 1:1 [II:5 G]; BT Megillah 5a–b; Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 108; Smallwood, Jews under Roman Rule, 495–96; Levine, “The Jewish Patriarch,” 658. 79. Translation by Meshorer from the museum catalogue: R. M. Nagy et al., eds., Sepphoris in Galilee: Crosscurrents of Culture (Museum catalogue; Raleigh, N.C.: North Carolina Museum of Art, 1996), 198. 80. Historia Augusta, Severus 14.6–7; 17.1 (trans. A. O’Brien-Moore, LCL); Ardavan, HJB 1:88–92; Jerome, Commentary on Daniel 11.34–35, in Levine, “Jewish Patriarch,” 656. 81. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 40–42, tends to accept stories more readily than many scholars, but he provides solid evidence for historical events behind the traditions; see also Smallwood, Jews under Roman Rule, 485–86. 82. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 57–58. 83. Epiphanius, Panarion 30.2.4; in Frank Williams, The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis (Leiden: Brill, 1987), 1:122. 84. PT Sanhedrin 1.2 [Neusner, III:2]; Levine, “Jewish Patriarch,” 666. 85. BT Mo’ed Qatan 16a. 86. BT Gittin 59a. 87. BT Ketubot 104a. 88. For a description of the formation of the Mishnah, see Lawrence H. Schiffman, From Text to Tradition: A History of Second Temple and Rabbinic Judaism (Hoboken, N.J.: Ktav, 1991), 177–200. 89. Amram Tropper, “Tractate Avot and Early Christian Succession Lists,” 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; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 159–88. 90. Ecclesiastes Rabbah 9.8. 91. Hiyya Rabbah of Babylonia, DAR 203–5, prominent later on; Simeon ben Halafta, DAR 391–93; Levi ben Sisi, DAR 392–93; Simon ben Manasseh, DAR 402, and the brotherhood, M Avot 2:3. 92. Num 11:22, in T Sotah 4.8. 93. See Hayim Lapin, Early Rabbinic Civil Law, especially 232–41; the passage permitting deception is M Bava Metsia 6:1, on which see pages 204–6. 94. BT Sanhedrin 5a; HJB 1:149–50; DAR 203–5. 95. BT Yevamot 63a. 96. PT Ketubot 12.3 [I:6]; cf. Kil’ayim 9.3; Genesis Rabbah 33.3, which includes the distinction on Davidic lineage; the incident cost Hiyya a 30-day excommunication from the patriarchal court. 97. HJB 1:146. 98. Their fathers were brothers, claiming descent from Shimei, a brother of King David (BT Sanhedrin 5a; Ketubot 62b). 99. BT Qiddushin 72a. 100. BT Qiddushin 72a; HJB 1:144–45; on Ahai ben Josiah, see DAR 47–49. The issue may have been whether the rules of sabbath rest applied to Friday evening as to the sabbath day. 101. David Runia, Philo in Early Christian Literature: A Survey (CRINT 3.3; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 121; Runia provides a translation and summary with discussion on the


conclusions of R. Van den Broek, “Alexandrië in de tweede en de derde eeuw: van christelijke pluriformiteit naar kerkelijke eenheid,” in Breekpunten en keerpunten: beslissende historische momenten en factoren in het oecumenisch proces (Leiden–Utrecht: Interuniversitair Instituut voor Missiologie en Oecumenica Research Publications 27, 1989), 71–86. 102. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.17. 103. Clement, Stromateis (Miscellanies) 1.72.4. 104. Apology 40; J. Stevenson, A New Eusebius (2d ed.; rev. W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1987), no. 135 (158). 105. Tertullian, Apology 31–32. 106. Tertullian, Apology 37.4–8. 107. Tertullian, Apology 50. 108. Hippolytus, Elenchos 9.7. 109. Michael Weitzman, The Syriac Version of the Old Testament: An Introduction (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999). 110. “Abercius, inscription of,” in vol. 1 of The Catholic Encyclopaedia (New York, 1913), 40–41; cited in W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 23; and Claudio Moreschini and Enrico Norelli, Early Christian Greek and Latin Literature (2 vols.; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2005), 1:221–22. The inscription, discovered in 1883, gives a rare archaeological statement on the spread of Christianity by the end of the second century. 111. Wilhelm Baum and Dietmar W. Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), 8. 112. Chronicle of Edessa 8; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.23.4 (trans. K. Lake, LCL), who refers to the district name as Osrhoene. 113. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 1.13.6–10. 114. Steven K. Ross. Roman Edessa: Politics and Culture on the Eastern Fringes of the Roman Empire, 114–242 C.E. (London: Routledge, 2001), 136. 115. J. B. Segal, Edessa “the Blessed City” (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1970), 62–81; McCullough, Syriac Christianity, 28–31; S. Brock, “The earliest Syriac Literature,” in The Cambridge History of Early Christian Literature (ed. Frances Young, Lewis Ayres, and Andrew Louth; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 161–71; here 161–63. 116. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.30. 117. See the discussion by Brock, “Syriac Literature,” 163–64. 118. Bardaisan, Book of the Laws of Countries, 57–59. 119. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.34–36. 120. Frank Trombley, “The Geographical Spread of Christianity,” in CHC 1:307. 121. Christopher S. Mackay, Ancient Rome: A Military and Political History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 272. 122. Gaston H. Halsberghe, The Cult of Sol Invictus (Leiden: Brill, 1972), 130–62. 123. Dio, Roman History 80.3.4 (trans. E. Cary, LCL). 124. Chronique de Seert (PO 4, 221–22); HJB 2:38; W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 113. 125. Cited in John Malcolm, The History of Persia (2 vols.; London: John Murray, 1815), 1:95–96. 126. CHI 3/2:874. 127. In the fifth century, a Christian source identifies the chief magus as the mobadan mobad (magupatan magupat), similar to the shah-an-shah, King of Kings; CHI 3/1:890. 128. HJB 2:29. 129. CHI 3/2:907–8, Appendix, “Note on the Religious Sects Mentioned by Kartir (Karter).” 130. BT Avodah Zarah 10b–11a. 131. BT Hullin 137b; DAR 3–6. 132. BT Hullin 137b. 133. DAR 368–73.

764 Notes to pages 379–90 134. PT Bava Batra 5.5 [Neusner, I:2 E]; HJB 2:112–15. 135. BT Qiddushin 71b. 136. Exod 22:4[mt 1]; BT Berakhot 58a. 137. BT Bava Qamma 117a. 138. BT Yoma 10a. 139. Isaiah Gafni, CHJ, 4:798–99. 140. BT Yevamot 63b; Bava Batra 58a. 141. BT Shabbat 45a; Qiddushin 72a; HJB 2:37–38. 142. HJB 2:57–64. 143. Exod 24:11; BT Berakhot 17a. 144. BT Sanhedrin 98a. 145. BT Bava Qamma 113b; Bava Batra 54a; Gittin 10b; Nedarim 28a. 146. BT Mo’ed Qatan 26a; HJB 2:44–51, argues this tradition takes precedence over the later view that Samuel died in 257 and therefore he could not have commented on the war in 260; Richard Kalmin, Jewish Babylonia between Persia and Roman Palestine (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 138–45. 147. BT Avodah Zarah 16a. 148. Isa 33:17; PT Sanhedrin 2.6 [Neusner, VII:2]; Lee I. Levine, The Rabbinic Class of Roman Palestine in Late Antiquity (Jerusalem: Yad Izhak Ben-Zvi, 1989), 156. 149. M Avodah Zarah 2:6; T Avodah Zarah 4:11. 150. Levine, Rabbinic Class, 167–70. 151. Ibid., 140; GLAJJ 2:564 provides text and comments on date. 152. BT Zevahim 102a; Menahot 98a; DAR 446–48. 153. DAR 207–9. 154. BT Avodah Zarah 10a; DAR 186–89. 155. Prov 22:5; BT Bava Metzi’a 107b. 156. Citing Deut 10:12; BT Berakhot 33b. 157. Genesis Rabbah 94:9; DAR 265–67. 158. BT Hullin 95b; DAR 232–36. 159. BT Bava Metzi’a 84b; DAR 398–401. 160. Leviticus Rabbah 23.12; cf. Matt 5:28. 161. BT Yevamot 72b; BT Yoma 9b; Ben Sira quote in PT Hagigah 2.1 [Neusner, III:10 A]; DAR 120–22. 162. BT Bava Qamma 113a–b; PT Hagigah 2.2 [Neusner, III:1 T]; Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 95. 163. Genesis Rabbah 76.6. 164. Genesis Rabbah 42.4. 165. BT Sanhedrin 26a. 166. BT Sanhedrin 98a. 167. Genesis Rabbah 27.3. 168. BT Ta’anit 8b. 169. Levine, Rabbinic Class, 162–67. 170. Minucius Felix, Octavius 5.4–5; 9.1 in J. Stevenson, A New Eusebius (2d ed.; revised by W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1987), no. 155 (177–178). 171. Acts of Pionius 13, in Acts of the Christian Martyrs, 153; see analysis of James William Parkes, The Conflict of the Church and the Synagogue (New York: Atheneum, 1961), 144–45. 172. W. H. C. Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution in the Early Church: A Study of a Conflict from the Maccabees to Donatus (Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor Books, 1967), 307–8, 411. 173. Africanus, Letter to Aristides 5. 174. Jerome, Against Rufinus 1.13; Origen, Letter to Africanus 7, mentions a “learned Hebrew” without a name; see full discussion in N. R. M. De Lang, Origen and the Jews: Studies in Jewish-Christian Relations in Third-Century Palestine (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976), 23–25.


175. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.39.5. 176. Stevenson, New Eusebius, no. 222 (247–49). 177. Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 176. 178. Summary in J. Stevenson, A New Eusebius (2d ed.; revised by W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1987), no. 236 (267–268). 179. Lactantius, Manner in Which Persecutors Died (De Mort. P) 10; cf. Divine Institutes 4.27. 180. Lactantius, Divine Institutes 11; Frend, CHC 1:519. 181. Stephen Mitchell, A History of the Later Roman Empire A.D. 284–641 (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2007), 61. 182. Panegyrici Latini 6.21.4–22.1; in In Praise of Later Roman Emperors: The Panegyrici Latini (introduction, translation, and historical commentary, with the Latin text of R. A. B. Mynors by C. E. V. Nixon and Barbara Saylor Rodgers; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994). 183. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 1.28 (NPNF 2, 1.490). 184. Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 258–59. 185. Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 310, on Christian reconciliation of Christianity and prayer to the Sun-god Helios; Everett F. Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1993), 296–98. 186. Acts 17:23. 187. Geo Widengren, “The Status of the Jews in the Sassanian Empire,” Iranica Antiqua 1 (1961): 131. 188. PT Terumot 8.12 [Neusner, 8.4 IV:4 A]; Genesis Rabbah 63.8; PT Shevi’it 9.2; Smallwood, Jews under Roman Rule, 537. 189. PT Berakhot 3.1 [Neusner, I:8 I–J]. 190. BT Hagigah 14a; BT Ketubot 17a. 191. Josephus, J.W. 2.289–292; DAR 12–16, gives all references for Maradta Synagogue. 192. BT Sanhedrin 14a; BT Ketubot 17a. 193. Lamentations Rabbah 1.29. 194. BT Sotah 40a; BT Mo’ed Qatan 25b. 195. No entry in DAR; see “Hiyya bar, Abba” in Jewish Encyclopedia for more information and references. 196. DAR 388–89. 197. BT Ketubot 23a; DAR 468–70. 198. BT Ta’anit 8b; BT Mo’ed Qatan 26a; BT Ta’anit 20a; HJB 3:18–24. 199. The incident of Geniva (Geniba) is found in BT Gitttin 7a; 31b; 62a; 65b–66a; and analyzed by Neusner, HJB 3:75–81. 200. BT Ketubot 106a. 201. BT Avodah Zarah 17b. 202. BT Mo’ed Qatan 25a; Rav Huna “the Babylonian,” DAR 209–11. 203. BT Bava Qamma 91b; DAR 201–3. 204. BT Pesahim 113a. 205. BT Ta’anit 23b. 206. BT Sanhedrin 5a; DAR 348–49. 207. BT Hullin 63a. 208. BT Qiddushin 72a; DAR 283–84. 209. HJB 4:95–97; no entries in DAR or Jewish Encyclopedia, which indicates his insignificance in Jewish history, but his situation with the exilarch is politically significant for relations between the rabbis and the exilarchs, if Neusner has got it right. 210. BT Sanhedrin 98b; HJB 3:59–75; DAR 316. 211. BT Bava Metz’ia 38b; no entry in DAR; see “Sheshet” in Jewish Encyclopedia. 212. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 7.31.1. 213. Life of Anthony 14 (trans. H. Ellershaw, NPNF 2, 4.200).

766 Notes to pages 406–18 214. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.19.2–9; Robert M. Berchman, Porphyry against the Christians (Leiden: Brill, 2005). 215. Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel 1.2.1–5; trans. in GLAJJ 2.458. 216. From Macarius Magnes, Apocriticus 3.30–33, 31, GLAJJ 2:452. 217. Augustine, City of God 19.23. 218. Epiphanius, Panarion 51.8; Berchman, Porphyry, 144. 219. Frag. 451; from Augustine, City of God 19.23; Berchman, Porphyry, 125. 220. Severianus, Episcopus Gabalorum, De Mundi Creatione, GLAJJ 2:463. 221. Adversus Nationes 1.36; Berchman, Porphyry, 146. 222. Adversus Nationes 2.6; Berchman, Porphyry, 148. 223. Adversus Nationes 2.67; Berchman, Porphyry, 149–50. 224. W. H. C. Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution in the Early Church: A Study of a Conflict from the Maccabees to Donatus (Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor, 1967), 360. 225. Lam 2:1; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 8.1.7. 226. Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors 13. 227. Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution, 368–69. 228. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 8.11.1. 229. Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors 16, trans. Fletcher, ANF 7. 230. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 8.12.1–2 (trans. J. E. L. Oulton, LCL). 231. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 8.12.1–3; 8.14.16–17; Rufinus provides the names. 232. Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 180. 233. Ibid., 176. 234. Martyrs of Palestine 8.1; trans. Cureton (1861), 29–30 [cited 21 August 2009]. Online: http://www.tertullian.org/fathers/eusebius_martyrs.htm; and with a different translation in NPNF 2, vol. 1, at the beginning of Book 8 of the Church History. 235. S. Lieberman, “The Martyrs of Caesarea,” Annuaire de l’institut de philologre et d’histoire orientales et slaves 7 (1939–1944): 395–446; here 410–11. 236. Lactantius, Deaths 34, trans. in Stevenson, New Eusebius, no. 246 (280–281). 237. Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution, 393–94. 238. Haas, Alexandria, 107–8, notes 45–48; on the Jewish trades, 118. 239. Clement, Instruction 3.11; translation from Graydon F. Snyder, Ante Pacem: Archaeological Evidence of Church Life before Constantine (rev. ed.; Macon, Ga.: Mercer University Press, 2003), 31. 240. On Baptism 1; Tertullian changes the ΙΧΘΥΣ into the grammatically correct accusative ΙΧΘΥΝ, but it is clear he means the acrostic because, though writing in Latin, he inserts the Greek word; Snyder, Ante Pacem, 32. 241. Snyder, Ante Pacem, 107–16. 242. Ibid., 60–61. 243. The Excavations at Dura-Europos, Final Report 8, Part 1 (ed. A. R. Bellinger et al.; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956), 335. 244. David Noy, “Material Remains,” in Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity (ed. M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget; London: T&T Clark, 2007), 215–16, 219. 245. PT Avodah Zarah 3:3 [Neusner, I:2 E]; text follows Genizah fragment, cited in Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years (2d ed. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), 483 n. 71. 246. David Rokéah, Justin Martyr and the Jews (Leiden: Brill, 2002); Timothy J. Horner, Listening to Trypho: Justin Martyr’s Dialogue Reconsidered (Leuven: Peeters, 2001); Oskar Skarsaune, The Proof from Prophecy: A Study in Justin Martyr’s Proof-Text Tradition (Leiden: Brill, 1987). 247. See W. Horbury, “Jewish-Christian Relations in Barnabas and Justin Martyr,” in Jews and Christians in Contact and Controversy (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998), 127–61. 248. Justin, Dialogue 1.1, ANF vol. 1, slightly altered.


249. Justin, Dialogue 1 (1–9); 2 (10–30, 40–47); 3 (31–108); 4 (109–141). 250. Horner, Listening to Trypho, 33–63, and 211 (Appendix IV) for the central passages; all the statements of Trypho are conveniently isolated in Appendix I, 199–206. 251. Gen 18–19; Dialogue 56. 252. Gen 4:23; BT Sanhedrin 38b. 253. Rom 4:1–17; 9:6–13. 254. Sifre Deuteronomy 312; translation with slight alterations from Mihaly, “A Rabbinic Defense of the Election of Israel: An Analysis of Sifre Deuteronomy 32:9, Pisqa 312,” HUCA 35 (1964): 103–43, cited in Skarsaune, Proof from Prophecy, 346–47, with further discussion, 347–53. 255. Isa 19:24–25; 42:1–4. 256. Kerygma Petrou 2.d (from Clement of Alexandria, Miscellanies 6.5.39–41; dated ca. 140–170), in W. Schneemelcher, ed., New Testament Apocrypha (2 vols.; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 1992), 2:39; Epistle to Diognetus (early second century) also speaks of a “new race of men” (1.1). 257. Justin, Dialogue 112; it is clear that when Justin comes to write out the dialogue, he is polishing his responses with a good deal of rhetoric and scriptural support that would have escaped him in any genuine encounter with Trypho; such as the statement of Jesus (itself probably a Matthean composition), “They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi” (Matt 23:6–7). 258. Horner, Listening to Trypho, 95–107. 259. Origen, Against Celsus 3.1; from Plato, Phaedrus 260C. 260. Origen, Against Celsus, Book 3, Address to the Jews (R. Joseph Hoffmann, Celsus: On the True Doctrine [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987], 60–61). 261. T Hullin 2:18. 262. Origen, Against Celsus 1.45, 49, 55, 56; 2.31; 4.29. 263. Plutarch, De exilo 602B; John Malalas, The Chronicle of John Malalas (trans. Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott; Melbourne: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies; Sydney: University of Sydney, 1986), 10.46; see also R. Travers Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Midrash (London: Williams & Norgate, 1903; repr., Jersey City, N.J.: Ktav, 2007), 161–71. 264. David Runia, Philo in Early Christian Literature: A Survey (CRINT 3.3; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 161–62. 265. Origen, Against Celsus, preface. 266. Origen, Homily on Leviticus 10.1, quoted in A. J. Philippou, “Origen and the Early Jewish-Christian Debate,” in Early Christianity and Judaism (ed. Everett F. Ferguson; New York: Garland, 1993), 336–49, 343–44. 267. Genesis Rabbah 1.1; Philo, Alleg. Interp. 3.95–98. 268. Genesis Rabbah 11.6. 269. Isa 2:22; Genesis Rabbah 8:10. 270. Gen 1:26–27; BT Sanhedrin 38b. 271. PT Berakhot 9.1 [Neusner, I:6 J–Q]; trans. Neusner, slightly altered. 272. Exodus Rabbah 13.3. 273. Origen, First Principles 3.1.8. 274. Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 320–23; Reuven Kimelman, Rabbi Yohanan of Tiberias: Aspects of the Social and Religious History of Third-Century Palestine (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 1977), 181–82. 275. Reuven Kimelman, “Rabbi Yokhanan and Origen on the Song of Songs: A ThirdCentury Jewish-Christian Disputation” HTR 73 (1980): 567–95. The blocked text that follows is greatly reduced from Kimelman’s work. 276. Philo, Embassy 1.281 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL). 277. BT Sukkah 48b.

768 Notes to pages 427–32 278. PT Ta’anit 2.1 [Neusner, III:8], translation adapted from Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 62, who notes an expansion of this tradition later ascribed to Balaam, possibly a euphemism for Jesus. 279. Exod 20:2; Isa 44:6; Exodus Rabbah 29.5; Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 303–4; Genesis Rabbah 25.1; Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 270–72. 280. BT Berakhot 10a. 281. BT Avodah Zarah 4b. 282. BT Avodah Zarah 28a; see Herford’s discussion on the story, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 109–11. 283. BT Shabbat 116a. 284. 4 Ezra 6:8–9; commentary in Jacob Myers, I and II Esdras (AB 42; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1974), 201–2; Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990), 363–65. The identification of Rome is an interpretation held by many, but not all, scholars; some think Ezra refers merely to eschatological ages. For this argument and a review of older literature, see Gershon D. Cohen, “Esau as Symbol in Early Medieval Thought,” in Jewish Medieval and Renaissance Studies (ed. A. Altmann; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1967), 21. 285. Genesis Rabbah 65.21 on Gen 27:22; Cohen, “Esau as Symbol,” 22, thinks this is the first unequivocal rabbinic identification of Esau with Rome. The text gives the author as Judah b. Ilai, but Theodore-Albeck ed. (740) attributes it to Akiba based on Midrash HaGadol on Gen 27:22 (edition Margalioth, 476). 286. Gen 25:22–23; for a recent discussion on the topic in Jewish tradition and modern dialogue, see Israel J. Yuval, Two Nations in Your Womb: Perceptions of Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006), 1–30. 287. Genesis Rabbah 63.7. 288. BT Avodah Zarah 11a. 289. Gen 27:22; BT Gittin 57b. 290. Rom 9:6–13; Mal 1:2–3. 291. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 4.21. Barn. (13) added to this exegesis Jacob’s later blessing of Joseph’s sons, Manasseh and Ephraim, by preferring the younger Ephraim over the firstborn Manasseh (Gen 48) to demonstrate the divine election of Christians. Justin Martyr included the example of Jacob’s greater love for Rachel, the younger, over Leah, the older, to show a divine preference for the younger Christians (Dialogue 134). For discussion of these sources, see Cohen, “Esau as Symbol,” 19–48, here 33. 292. Tertullian, Answer to the Jews 1.1, ANF 3. 293. M. Simon, Verus Israel, 124, cites possible evidence that Christians were buried in the Jewish cemetery; on the relationship between Jews and Christians in Carthage, see R. S. MacLennan, Early Christian Texts on Jews and Judaism (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), 123–37. 294. For a variety of evidence on the existence of Jews in Carthage at the time of Tertullian, see W. H. C. Frend, “Jews and Christians in Third-Century Carthage,” in Paganisme, judaïsme, christianisme: influences et affrontements dans le monde antique: mélanges offerts à Marcel Simon (Paris: E. de Boccard, 1978), 185–94; and W. Horbury, “Tertullian on the Jews in the Light of De Specataculis xxx.5–6,” in Jews and Christians in Contact and Controversy (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1998), 176–79. 295. Sifre Deuteronomy 312; Sifre: A Tannaitic Commentary on the Book of Deuteronomy (trans. from the Hebrew with introduction and notes by Reuven Hammer; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986), 318. See above, pp. 419–20. 296. Matt 21:33–44; if the parable comes from Jesus, the slain son was probably John the Baptist, but later, when incorporated into Matthew’s Gospel, it was clearly understood as Jesus. See David Stern, Parables in Midrash: Narrative and Exegesis in Rabbinic Literature (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1991), 190–97; W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (3 vols.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997, 2004), 3:178.


297. Yuval, Two Nations, 16–18. 298. See Oskar Skarsaune, “Jewish Believers in Jesus in Antiquity—Problems of Definition, Methods, and Sources,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 3–21; on the transition from a predominantly Jewish movement to a predominantly Gentile movement, see Oskar Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Influences on Early Christianity (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 209–24; 265–69. 299. Justin, Dialogue 47. 300. Tertullian, Against Marcion 4.8; Nazarene (Matt 2:23; Acts 24:5); see W. Kinzig, “The Nazoraeans,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 463–87. 301. Eusebius, Onomasticon, Nazareth. 302. The excerpts are collected and translated in A. F. J. Klijn and G. J. Reinink, Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects (Leiden: Brill, 1973), 220–25. 303. Didascalia 26; trans. A. Vööbus in Corpus scriptorum christianorum orientalium 408, as quoted in Anders Ekenberg, “Evidence for Jewish Believers in ‘Church Orders’ and Liturgical Texts,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 650. 304. C. Elisheva Fonrobert, “The Didascalia Apostolorum: A Mishnah for the Disciples of Jesus,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 9 (2001): 483–509; see also the analysis of Ekenberg, “Evidence for Jewish Believers,” 649–57; Apostolic Constitutions, ANF 7.385–508. 305. Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers 1:1–3, trans. D. R. Darnell in OTP 2:677. 306. Oskar Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 419–62; Petri Luomanen, “Ebionites and Nazarenes,” in Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts (ed. Matt Jackson-McCabe; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 81–118; Richard J. Bauckham, “The Origin of the Ebionites,” in The Image of the Judaeo-Christians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature (ed. P. J. Thompson and D. Lambers-Petry; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 162–81. 307. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1.26.2. 308. Ignatius, Ephesians 18:2; Trallians 9:1; Smyrneans 1:1; Justin, Dialogue 43.1; 45.4; 100.3. 309. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 7.34.2. 310. Origen, Against Celsus 2.1; trans. Chadwick; Oskar Skarsaune, “Greek and Latin Patristic Literature,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 515. 311. Origen, Commentary on Matthew 16.12. 312. Hebrew, edat ha-ebionim; Pss 9:19; 12:6; 35:10; 37:11; 69:34; 72:12–13; Skarsaune, “The Ebionites,” 426–27. 313. Origen, Homily on Jeremiah 19.12. 314. Epiphanius, Panarion 30.16.8–9. 315. Epiphanius, Panarion 30.16.7. 316. The relationship of all the parts and sources of the Pseudo-Clementine literature is an ongoing discipline. Robert E. Van Voorst, The Ascents of James: History and Theology of a Jewish-Christian Community (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989); F. Stanley Jones, An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995); Graham Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements in the Pseudo-Clementine Writings,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 305–24; F. Stanley Jones, “The Pseudo-Clementines,” in Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts (ed. Matt Jackson-McCabe; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 285–304. 317. Stanton, “Jewish Christian Elements,” 315. 318. Pseudo-Clementine Homilies 8.6–7, in Schneemelcher, New Testament Apocrypha, 2:525; quote of Jesus based on Matt 7:21; Luke 6:46.

770 Notes to pages 438–46 319. Van Voorst, Ascents of James 70.2. 320. Van Voorst, Ascents of James 42.1, Latin text. 321. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.23.1 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 322. M Eduyot 8:6; Alexander Guttmann, “The End of the Jewish Sacrificial Cult,” in Studies in Rabbinic Judaism (New York: Ktav, 1976), 224–35. 323. T Yom Tov (Betsah) 2:15; Baruch M. Bokser, “Todos and Rabbinic Authority in Rome,” in New Perspectives on Ancient Judaism (ed. J. Neusner et al.; Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 1987), 1:117–30. Augustine, Genesis against the Manichees 1.23.40; corrected from a “sacrifice” to a commemorative Passover meal in Retractations 1.9.2; and a passing remark that Jews still celebrate Passover “with the slaying of a lamb” (Contra litteras Petiliani 87, trans. NPNF 1, 4.552–53). 324. Philo, Special Laws 2.145–149; Josephus, J.W. 6.423–427; Ant. 4.211–213; 17.213; see also Wis 18:9, which may reflect a Passover celebration. 325. The well-known discrepancy between the Gospel of John and the Synoptic account (Mark 14:12 and parallels), in which Jesus eats a “Passover” meal the night before he was crucified, has a number of possible solutions, none of which are compelling. Both accounts have a theological basis. The best option may be that Jesus anticipated his arrest and chose to eat his final meal with his disciples in lieu of the Passover, and thus he imitated a Passover meal; see Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel of John XIII–XXI (AB 29A; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970), 555–58. There is sufficient evidence to suggest Jews celebrated Passover as they chose, without a sense of violating Torah, and for which only the slaughter of the lamb was controlled; E. P. Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief 63 B.C.E.–66 C.E. (London: SCM Press, 1992), 133–34, surveys the evidence. 326. 1 Cor 5:7–8. 327. Rom 14:4–10. 328. M Besah 2:7; T Yom Tov (Besah) 2:15. 329. M Pesahim 7:2. 330. T Pisha 10:12. 331. M Pesahim 10:5. 332. Epistula Apostolorum 15; in Schneemelcher, New Testament Apocrypha, 1:257. 333. Yuval, Two Nations, 64–68. 334. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.23.1 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 335. Acts 5:29; Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.24.1–7 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 336. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 5.24.12–13 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 337. Hippolytus, Heresies 8.18.1. 338. Skarsaune, “Greek and Latin Patristic Literature,” 521–22. 339. The Peri Pascha sermon was known from references in antiquity but came into the light of modern scholarship only in 1940. The full text may be found in translation by G. F. Hawthorne, in B. D. Ehrman, After the New Testament (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), and elsewhere. 340. Homily 46; Philo, Heir 192; Irenaeus, Against Heresies 4.10.1. 341. Homily, 80, 94–96; trans. G. F. Hawthorne, in Ehrman, After the New Testament, 125–27. 342. Eric Werner, “Melito of Sardis, the First Poet of Deicide,” HUCA 37 (1966): 191– 210; but see the more evenhanded analysis by S. G. Hall, “Melito in the Light of the Passover Haggadah,” JTS 22 (1971): 29–46; also the insightful analysis of Judith M. Lieu, Image and Reality: The Jews in the World of the Christians in the Second Century (London: T&T Clark, 1996), 199–236. 343. Alistair Stewart-Sykes, The Lamb’s High Feast (Leiden: Brill, 1998); Skarsaune, “Greek and Latin Patristic Literature,” 525–28; and for a contrary response, Clemens Leonhard, The Jewish Pesach and the Origins of the Christian Easter (Berlin: Walter De Gruyter, 2006). 344. Rom 9:3; 16:7. 345. Israel J. Yuval, “Easter and Passover as Early Jewish-Christian Dialogue” in Passover and Easter: Origin and History to Modern Times (ed. Paul F. Bradshaw and Lawrence A. Hoffman; Two Liturgical Traditions 5; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1999),


98–124; 105–6. In his essay, Yuval notes the groundbreaking study by Robert Eisler (1925, 1926) that the afikoman parallels the Christian “host” and the bitter attacks he received by Jewish scholars of his day. Later (1966), the highly respected Jewish scholar David Daube confirmed the parallels but felt that Jewish-Christian relations were not yet ready for this scholarly verdict. Much of his argument is repeated in Two Nations, 86–92, passim. 346. Eric Werner, The Sacred Bridge: The Interdependence of Liturgy and Music in Synagogue and Church during the First Millennium (2 vols.; New York: Ktav, 1984), 2.131. 347. Baruch M. Bokser, The Origins of the Seder: The Passover Rite and Early Rabbinic Judaism (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984). 348. So concludes Leonhard, Jewish Pesach, 435–37. 349. See the judicious assessments by Lawrence A. Hoffman, “A Symbol of Salvation in the Passover Seder,” in Passover and Easter: A Symbolic Structuring of Sacred Seasons (ed. P. F. Bradshaw and L. A. Hoffman; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1999), 109–31. 350. Origen, On the Passover (Peri Pascha) 1; Bradshaw, “Origins of Easter,” in Passover and Easter: Origin and History to Modern Times (ed. P. F. Bradshaw and L. A. Hoffmann; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1999), 83–84. 351. Deut 26:5–10; M Pesahim 10:4. 352. M Pesahim 10:5, trans. Neusner. 353. David Daube, New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism (repr., Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1994), 194–95; Joseph Tabory, Jewish Festivals in the Time of the Mishnah and Talmud (3d ed.; Jerusalem: The Hebrew University, Magnes Press, 2000). 354. Leonhard, Jewish Pesach, 73–118. 355. Pesahim 10:8. 356. Quotation attributed to the Middle Comedy poet Eubulus (fourth century b.c.e.), Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae (“The Learned Banqueters”) 2.36 (trans. C. B. Gulick, LCL). 357. T Pesahim 10:11. 358. PT Pesahim 10.6 [Neusner I:1]; “A Symbol of Salvation in the Passover Seder,” 112–14. 359. Exodus Rabbah 19.5.

Notes to Part 5 1. Codex theodosianus 2:8:1; Codex justinianus 3:12:2; Eusebius, Life of Constantine 4.18 (NPNF 2, 1.544 n. 2). 2. Codex theodosianus 16.8.19; Augustine, Ennarations on the Psalms 94. NPNF 1, 8.459–60. 3. Rodney Stark, Cities of God (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), 67–69. 4. Michael Grant, A Guide to the Ancient World: A Dictionary of Classical Place Names (New York: Barnes & Noble Books, 1997), 429–30. 5. Socrates Scholasticus, Ecclesiastical History 1.8 (trans. A. C. Zenos, NPNF 2, 2.8–12). 6. CHC 2:553–55; Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.17–19; 3.5 (NPNF 2, 1.524–25, 1.520–21). 7. Luke 7:12; 8:42; 9:38; Heb 11:17; John 1:14, 18; 3:16, 18; 1 John 4:9. 8. Col 1:15. 9. Translation, slightly altered, from J. Stevenson, A New Eusebius (2d ed.; rev. W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1987), no. 291 (344–347). For an interesting discussion on the Jewish influence in the Nicene Christology, see Oskar Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Influences on Early Christianity (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 319–38. 10. Jan Willem Drijvers, Helena Augusta: The Mother of Constantine the Great and the Legend of Her Finding of the True Cross (Leiden: Brill, 1992), 60–62. 11. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.47 (NPNF 2, 1.532). 12. Drijvers, Helena Augusta, 36–38.

772 Notes to pages 460–69 13. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.42, 44 (NPNF 2, 1.530–31); Drijvers, Helena Augusta, 63–72. 14. Gal 4:25; Origen, Comm. Ser. in Matt. 25.51; R. L. Wilken, “Eusebius and the Christian Holy Land,” in Eusebius, Christianity, and Judaism (ed. H. W. Attridge and G. Hata; Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1992), 736–60, 737. 15. F. E. Peters, Jerusalem: The Holy City in the Eyes of Chroniclers, Visitors, Pilgrims, and Prophets from the Days of Abraham to the Beginnings of Modern Times (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985), 131. 16. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.33 (trans. Ernest C. Richardson, NPNF 2, 1.529). 17. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 4.43.1–2; 4.47 (NPNF 2, 1.551; 1.552); on the building, see 3.34–40 (NPNF 2, 1.529–30); Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History (trans. Chester D. Hartranft; NPNF 2, 2.26); Peters, Jerusalem, 139–40. 18. Cyril, Catechetical Letters 10.19. 19. Graydon F. Snyder, Ante Pacem: Archaeological Evidence of Church Life before Constantine (rev. ed.; Macon, Ga.: Mercer University Press, 2003), 58–64. 20. Rufinus, Ecclesiastical History 10.7–8; translated in Drijvers, Helena Augusta, 79–80. 21. Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 2.4; Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.51–53 (NPNF 2, 1.533–54). 22. Grant, Ancient World, 127–29; Andrew Sharf, Byzantine Jewry from Justinian to the Fourth Crusade (New York: Schocken Books, 1971), 10–16. 23. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.25.1–7 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 24. 2 Pet 3:16 on Paul’s letters; Jude 14–15 citing 1 En. 1:9; on Melito, Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.26.13–14; also Irenaeus, Haer. 4.15.2, mentions the Old Testament; but Paul’s statement in 2 Cor 3:14 is limited to the covenant of Moses, not a canon. For the entire process of accepting the ot and nt canon, see Skarsaune, Shadow of the Temple, 279–99; numerous essays in Lee Martin McDonald and James A. Sanders, eds., The Canon Debate (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002); and D. L. Dungan, Constantine’s Bible: Politics and the Making of the New Testament (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), especially Appendix B, in which are listed writings considered to be “Scripture” by other Christian groups. 25. Constantine proclaimed another nephew, Hannibalianus, brother of Delmatius, “king of kings” and wed him to his eldest daughter, intending him to rule some territory in the East, perhaps Armenia, or even Persia, if he intended to invade; Christopher S. Mackay, Ancient Rome: A Military and Political History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 315. 26. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 4.64–71 (NPNF 2, 1.557–58). 27. CHI 3/1:117; Iran, the “land of the Aryans,” was used interchangeably with Persia. 28. BT Pesahim 5b; BT Shabbat 147b; HJB 4:46. 29. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.6.1, 3.8. 30. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 4.12, quoting a letter of Liberius, bishop of Rome, to Eustathius and the Macedonian bishops. 31. CHC 1:558–9. 32. Following the chronology of his life and publications as given by A. J. Carriker, The Library of Eusebius of Caesarea (Leiden: Brill, 2003). 33. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 1.11.7–8 (trans. K. Lake, LCL); Origen, Against Celsus 1.47; Carriker, Library of Eusebius, 160–61. 34. A. Fortesque, Lesser Eastern Churches (London: Catholic Truth Society, 1913), 38–42; Wilhelm Baum and Dietmar W. Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History (London: Routledge-Curzon, 2003), 11. 35. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.46; Fortesque, Lesser Eastern Churches, 397. 36. George A. Bournoutian, A History of the Armenian People, vol. 1: Pre-History to 1500 A.D. (Costa Mesa, Calif.: Mazda Publishers, 1995), 30, 61–65. 37. PT Ma’aser Sheni 3.3 [Neusner, IV:1 I]. 38. Bordeaux Pilgrim, Itinerary 591 (trans. Aubrey Stewart; Palestine Pilgrim’s Text Society, 1887); also available at http://www.christusrex.org; see The Anonymous Pilgrim of Bordeaux (333 A.D.).


39. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.18 (trans. Ernest C. Richardson, NPNF 2, 1.524–25). 40. BT Sanhedrin 38b. 41. Codex theodosianus 16:8:1, Amnon Linder, The Jews in Roman Imperial Legislation (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1987), no. 8 (124–127). 42. Codex theodosianus 16:8:2, 4; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 9 (132–135). According to Linder, the presbyters so named were members of the Palestinian Sanhedrin, not lower officials of synagogues, but such a Sanhedrin is speculative, and this law cannot be used as evidence for the institution; see Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 462–63. 43. For further evidence and implications of this conclusion, see Stuart Miller, Sages and Commoners in Late Antique ’Erez. Israel. A Philological Inquiry into Local Traditions in Talmud Yerushalmi (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008). 44. BT Bava Metz’ia 86a; DAR 350–52. 45. BT Berakhot 64a; DAR 343–45; H. L. Strack and G. Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 102. 46. BT Sanhedrin 34a. 47. BT Shabbat 66b; DAR 1–2. 48. BT Sukkah 28a; DAR 343–45. 49. BT Eruvin 65a; DAR 43–44. 50. HJB 4:52; Sabbath (BT Eruvin 45a; Ketubot 23a); lands (BT Bava Batra 168b); captives (BT Gittin 45a). 51. For a more complete overview of the Constantinian dynasty, see G. W. Bowersock, Julian the Apostate (London: Harvard University Press, 1978), 35. 52. The earliest mention of the war and the only mention of Patricius comes from Aurelius Victor, a native of Africa, in his Liber de Caesaribus, written between 359 and 361. “And meanwhile the revolt of the Jews, who impiously raised Patricius to royalty, was crushed.” Translation in GLAJJ 2.500–501, with commentary and additional sources by Stern. Jerome later expands on the incident: “Gallus suppressed the Jews, who had killed soldiers by night and captured weapons for a revolt. Many thousand people were killed, even harmless children; and their cities of Diocaesarea, Tiberias and Diospolis, as well as countless villages, he gave over to the flames.” Chronicon 282nd Olympiad, §15 cited in Gunter Stemberger, Jews and Christians in the Holy Land: Palestine in the Fourth Century (trans. R. Tuschling; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 162. 53. It is also known as Adversus Christianos. The work was never widely known nor preserved intact, but the bulk of it is known from the Christians who later refuted him, especially Cyril of Alexandria in his work Against Julian, written around 440. 54. R. Joseph Hoffmann, ed. and trans., Julian’s “Against the Galileans” (New York: Prometheus, 2004); Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 305–7. 55. Ammianus, Roman History 25.3.6 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 56. Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 3.25. 57. Stephen Mitchell, A History of the Later Roman Empire A.D. 284–641 (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2007), 78. 58. Moses Khorenats‘i, 3.35; in R. W. Thomson, Moses Khorenats‘i: History of the Armenians (Harvard Armenian Texts and Studies 4; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1978), 292–94; Faustos, 4.55; in Nina G. Garsoian, The Epic Histories: Attributed to P’awstos Buzand (Buzandaran Patmut’iwnk) (Harvard Armenian Texts and Studies 8; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1989). 59. CHI 3/1:140. 60. The danger to “like” is how to distinguish Jesus Christ from humans created in the “likeness” of God (Gen 1:26; Jas 3:9). 61. J. Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies: Documents Illustrating the History of the Church, A.D. 337–461 (new ed.; rev. W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1989), no. 24 (35–37). 62. Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 4.6.13.

774 Notes to pages 480–88 63. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 2.37.18–24; Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies, no. 32 (45–47). 64. Jerome, Dialogue against the Luciferians 19. 65. John Malalas, The Chronicle of John Malalas (trans. Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott; Melbourne: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies; Sydney: University of Sydney, 1986), 13.18. 66. Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 5.15; Libanius, Epistle 1220 (trans. A. F. Norman, LCL). 67. Jerome, Commentary on Zechariah 14:10; cited in R. L. Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews: Rhetoric and Reality in the Late 4th Century (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 146. Wilken points out the anomaly that Jewish believers would want to see the temple rebuilt because it would negate the prophecy of Jesus against rebuilding, but he concludes, no doubt correctly, that many Jewish believers or Judaizing Christians followed a gut instinct for the end times rather than dwelling on a theological difficulty. 68. Photius, Epitome of Philostorgius, Ecclesiastical History 2.5; trans. E. Walford (1855); for a recent translation with notes, see Philostorgius among ancient historians; Philip R. Amidon, Philostorgius: Church History (Atlanta: SBL, 2007). 69. Acta Martyrum et Sanctorum 2.143.5–10; translation in Adam H. Becker, “Beyond Spatial and Temporal Limes,” 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; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 373–92, here 378. 70. Chronique de Se’ert, 27; Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 2.9–14; W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 117. 71. Aphrahat, Demonstrations 1.19 (trans. John Gwinn, NPNF 2, 13.352). 72. Codex theodosianus 16.8.6; 16.9.2; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 11 (144–147). 73. So Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 176–78; but Stemberger, Jews and Christians, 176–81, finds the evidence too circumstantial and prefers to leave the cause of the uprising a mystery. 74. Codex theodosianus 16.8.7. 75. BT Sanhedrin 12a. 76. PT Ketuvot 2.6 [Neusner, I:2 H]; I. Gafni, Land, Center and Diaspora: Jewish Constructs in Late Antiquity (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 211. 77. Ursicinus, PT Shevi’it 4.2 [Neusner, I:4]; Julian, PT Nedarim 3.2 [Neusner, I:1 C]; some scholars have suggested Diocletian rather than Julian is meant, and so in Neusner’s translation. 78. See Lawrence H. Schiffman, From Text to Tradition: A History of Second Temple and Rabbinic Judaism (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav, 1991), 220–39. 79. Epiphanius, Panarion 30.4–12. 80. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 167–69; Daniel Boyarin, Border Lines: The Partition of Judaeo-Christianity (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004), 211–14; Oskar Skarsaune, “Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 528–40. 81. BT Sanhedrin 39a. 82. R. Travers Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Midrash (London: Williams & Norgate, 1903; repr., Jersey City, N.J.: Ktav, 2007), 283–85. 83. Julian, Orations, Letters, Epigrams, Against the Galileans, 177–181 (trans. W. C. Wright, LCL). Although the authenticity of the letter has often been challenged, other scholars have strongly defended it; Wright (vol. 3, p. xxii) defends the authenticity, but thinks it was later edited. See also discussion of Stern in GLAJJ 2.508–10, who accepts authenticity. 84. PT Ma’aser Sheni 5.2 [Neusner, IV:1]; Stemberger, Jews and Christians, 207; AviYonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 197.


85. Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 145. 86. Paul Bedjan, Acta Martyrum et Sanctorum Syriace, cited and translated by Geo Widengren, “The Status of the Jews in the Sassanian Empire,” Iranica Antiqua 1 (1961): 133 n. 2. 87. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 199. 88. Ammianus, History 23.1 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 89. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 201. 90. BT Bava Batra 22a; DAR 343–45. 91. BT Bava Batra 10b–11a. 92. BT Ta’anit 24b. 93. Deut 4:24; BT Nedarim 62b. 94. BT Hagigah 5a–b. 95. BT Pesahim 5b. 96. BT Hagigah 5b. 97. BT Pesahim 105b; DAR 315. 98. CHI 3/2:915; Geo Widengren, “The Status of the Jews in the Sassanian Empire, Iranica Antiqua 1 (1961): 131–32; citing Ammianus, History 23.5; 24.2.9; Zosimus, New History 3.7, 20. 99. Ammianus, Roman History 29.4 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 100. Ammianus, Roman History 29.3.9 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 101. Ammianus, Roman History 31.2.1–4 (trans. J. C. Rolfe, LCL). 102. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 5.33, followed by Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 6.37. 103. Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 84. 104. Zosimus, New History, 4.44. 105. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 5.25. 106. Ammianus, Roman History 27.3.12–15; J. Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies: Documents Illustrating the History of the Church, A.D. 337–461 (new ed.; rev. W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1989), no. 56 (71). 107. Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 356, 362. 108. Severus, Life of Martin 4; in Soldiers of Christ: Saints and Saints’ Lives from Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages (ed. Thomas F. X. Noble and Thomas Head; University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1995), 1–29. 109. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 4.16. 110. Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies, nos. 90 and 91 (114–118). 111. Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 366-67. 112. Zosimus, New History 4.59; trans. R. T. Ridley, New History / Zosimus, 98. The second visit of Theodosius to Rome is debated, but Ridley argues in favor of the account of Zosimus, 202–3. 113. Codex theodosianus 16.7.3. 114. Sozoman, Ecclesiastical History 7.25. 115. Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 5.22; Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 5.16; Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 7.15. 116. Libanius, Orations 1.219 (384), 258 (387); see discussion of J. H. W. G. Liebeschuetz, Antioch: City and Imperial Administration in the Later Roman Empire (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972), 21–28. 117. Chrysostom, De Anna sermo 1.1; Glanville Downey, A History of Antioch in Syria from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961), 433. 118. As Paul Harkins correctly entitled his translation of the sermons, Discourses against Judaizing Christians (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1979). 119. Chrysostom, Discourse 1.1.5. 120. Chrysostom, Priesthood (De sac.) 5.1; Jaclyn L. Maxwell, Christianization and Communication in Late Antiquity: John Chrysostom and His Congregation in Antioch (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 52 n. 52. 121. Downey, History of Antioch, 110, 448.

776 Notes to pages 504–15 122. Chrysostom, Discourse 5.3.13. 123. Chrysostom, Discourse 5.11.6; see full discussion in R. L. Wilken, John Chyrsostom and the Jews (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 155–58. 124. Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies, no. 59 (74). 125. W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 59. 126. McCullough, History of Syriac Christianity, 61–62. 127. PT Eruvin 5:1 [Neusner, II:2 C]; Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 209, cf. Gunter Stemberger, Jews and Christians in the Holy Land: Palestine in the Fourth Century (trans. R. Tuschling; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 216. 128. Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 4.19. Diocaesarea was formerly Sepphoris, just north of Nazareth. 129. Codex theodosianus 7.8.2, Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 14 (161–163). 130. Ambrose, Epistles 40–41. 131. Codex theodosianus 16.8.9; Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 172, citing Ambrose, Epistles 74. 132. Leonard V. Rutgers in CHJ, 4:492–504. 133. Codex theodosianus 3:7:2 = 9:7:5; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 18 (178– 182); under Valentinian I, Codex theodosianus 3:14:1. 134. Codex justinianus 1:9:7, which was not included in the collected Codex Theodosianus; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 22 (191–193). 135. Jerome, Epistle 57; see comments in GLAJJ 2:582–83 on difficulties of the chronology of the patriarchs, which remains obscure. 136. Quadrigae Tyrannorum, 8.1–10; for translation and commentary, see GLAJJ 2.636– 37; and further analysis of G. Bowersock, “Greek Moses,” 41–42. 137. S. Schwartz, “The Patriarchs and the Diaspora,” Journal of Jewish Studies 50/2 (1999): 208–22; Imperialism, 114–28. 138. Translation in Wayne A. Meeks and R. L. Wilken, Jews and Christians in Antioch in the First Four Centuries of the Common Era (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press for SBL, 1978), 53. 139. Ibid., 56. 140. David M. Goodblatt, “History of the Babylonian Academies,” in CHJ, 4:821–39; Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian Babylonia (Leiden: Brill, 1975). 141. Many dates of the later rabbis are provided by the medieval (ca. 970–1000) Letter of Sherira, “Iggeret Rav Sherira Gaon” (ISG), sent in response to questions about the origin of the Mishnah, Talmuds, and the rabbis. Use of his letter in dating is found in H. L. Strack and G. Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992). 142. BT Sanhedrin 46b. 143. DAR 325–26. 144. BT Hullin 127a. 145. DAR 213. 146. BT Avodah Zarah 38b; no entry in DAR, see “Zebid” in Jewish Encyclopedia. 147. Stephen Mitchell, A History of the Later Roman Empire A.D. 284–641 (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2007), 93. 148. Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 9.6.3–6; Christopher S. Mackay, Ancient Rome: A Military and Political History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 336. 149. Jerome, Epistle 127.12. 150. Orosius 7.43; in Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 110. 151. Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 96. 152. HJB 5:5–14. 153. Jerome, Epistle 22.30. 154. Jerome, Epistle 125.12; Stefan Rebenich, Jerome (London: Routledge, 2002), 13. 155. Jerome’s translations, except for the Psalms, were eventually incorporated into a single canon and sometime in the sixth century became the authoritative Latin Bible, the Vulgate.


156. The best biography of Augustine, fortunately reissued with an updated epilogue, is Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo: A Biography (new ed., with epilogue; Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000). 157. Rom 13:13; Augustine, Confessions 8.17–28. 158. Thanks to the work of R. L. Wilken, Judaism and the Early Christian Mind: A Study of Cyril of Alexandria’s Exegesis and Theology (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971; repr., Portland: Wipf and Stock, 2004). 159. Augustine, Confessions 10.29.40. 160. Lev 19:2; cf. Matt 5:48. 161. M Avot 3:16 [or 15]. 162. The title catholicos is used interchangeably with grand metropolitan, though some argue catholicos, like the title of pope, is anachronistic at this stage; see Wilhelm Baum and Dietmar W. Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), 15–16. 163. All the sources are given in R. Marcus, “The Armenian life of Marutha of Maipherkat,” HTR 25 (1932): 47–71. 164. Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 5.38. 165. Lee I. Levine, “The Jewish Patriarch (Nasi) in Third-Century Palestine,” Aufsteig und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kulture Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung (ed. H. Tempirini and W. Haase; Berlin, 1972– ; II.19.2 [1979]): 651; Gunter Stemberger, Jews and Christians in the Holy Land: Palestine in the Fourth Century (trans. R. Tuschling; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 243. 166. Codex theodosianus 16.8.8; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 20 (186–189). 167. BT Moed Katan 16a. 168. Codex theodosianus 16.8.11. 169. Codex justinianus 1.9.7; Linder Roman Imperial Legislation, no 22 (191–193). 170. Codex theodosianus 16.8.12; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 25 (197–198). 171. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 226; Libanius, Epistles 1097, 1098 (trans. A. F. Norman, LCL); GLAJJ 2:580–99. 172. Codex theodosianus 16.8.13; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 27 (201–203). 173. Commentary to law Codex theodosianus 2:1:10; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 25 (201–211). 174. Codex theodosianus 16.8.14. 175. Codex theodosianus 16.8.15. 176. Codex theodosianus 16.8.17; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 34 (224–225). 177. For background and analysis, see Michael Gaddis, There Is No Crime for Those Who Have Christ: Religious Violence in the Christian Roman Empire (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005), 188–90. 178. Codex theodosianus 16.8.18; in May 408; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 36 (236–238); Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 7.16, gives the incident of the boy flogged to death while on a cross. 179. Codex theodosianus 16.5.44; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 37 (239–241); Augustine, Sermon 62. 180. Codex theodosianus 2.8.26 and Codex theodosianus 8.8.8 = Codex theodosianus 16.8.20; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 40 (262–267). 181. Codex theodosianus 16.8.21; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 46 (283–286). 182. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 7.7. 183. A point confirmed by Augustine, Enarrations on the Psalms 50.1. 184. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 7.13; and see discussion in Wilken, Judaism and the Early Christian Mind, 54–68. 185. Haas, Alexandria, 117–18; and 299–305 on the politics of Alexandria and his conflict with the Jewish community. 186. Cited in Geo Widengren, “The Status of the Jews in the Sassanian Empire,” Iranica Antiqua 1 (1961): 139–41.

778 Notes to pages 527–41 187. BT Ketubot 61a–b; Zevahim 19a; HJB 5:12–13. 188. HJB 5:60. 189. BT Avodah Zarah 16a; DAR 74–76. 190. BT Sanhedrin 36a. 191. BT Bava Metzi’a 86a. 192. DAR, “Rabina I,” 354. 193. No entry in DAR; see “Amemar II” in Jewish Encyclopedia. 194. BT Gittin 59a. 195. BT Zevahim 19a. 196. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 7.22 (trans. A.C. Zenos, NPNF 2, 2.164–65); see also Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History, preface, NPNF 2, 2.236–38, who dedicated his 9-book history to Theodosius II. Ptolemy Philadelphus was responsible for the translation of the Septuagint, and for that reason he was highly honored by the Jews, as Philo says: “Among the Ptolemies, Philadelphus was the most illustrious; for all the rest put together scarcely did as many glorious and praiseworthy actions as this one king did by himself, being, as it were, the leader of the herd, and in a manner the head of all the kings” (Moses 2.30 [trans. F. H. Colson, LCL]). 197. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 7.1; Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 106. 198. Prosper, Epitoma Chronicon ad ann. 452; J. Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies: Documents Illustrating the History of the Church, A.D. 337–461 (new ed.; rev. W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1989), no. 258 (374–375). 199. Jordanes, Gothic History (Getica), 254–55. 200. CHI 3/1:145. 201. CHI 3/1:147. 202. Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo: A Biography (new ed., with epilogue; Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), 307–11; Augustine, City of God 2.18. 203. Augustine, City of God 11.1. 204. Augustine, City of God 10.3. 205. Possidius, Life of Saint Augustine 31; the 1919 translation by H. T. Weiskotten is available at http://www.tertullian.org/fathers/. 206. E. A. Thompson, Who Was Saint Patrick? (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1985), 164, citing T. Mommsen, C. Iulii Solini collectanea rerum memorabilium (Berlin: Weidmanos, 1958). 207. Theodore of Mopsuestia, On the Incarnation 7, in Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies, no. 218 (291–295). 208. The book was thought lost but was rediscovered by Western historians around 1895; it was translated by G. R. Driver and Leonard Hodgson, available now in reprint: Nestorius, The Bazaar of Heracleides (Eugene, Ore.: Wipf and Stock, 2002). 209. Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 541–43. 210. John 1:1; John 1:3; Gal 4:4. Epistle 28, Tome of Leo; Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies, no. 241 (336–344, 340). 211. Cyril, Epistle 40, cited with discussion in M. E. Posnov, History of the Christian Church until the Great Schism of 1054 (Bloomington, Ind.: Authorhouse, 2004), 316. 212. Aubrey Russell Vine, The Nestorian Churches (New York: AMS Press, 1980), 23. 213. Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 2.5; Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 589–90. 214. Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies, no. 250 (364–365). 215. Ibid., no. 248 (361–362). 216. Theodoret, History of the Monks of Syria 26; a modern translation is available: A History of the Monks of Syria by Theodoret of Cyrrhus (translated with an introduction and notes by R. M. Price; Kalamazoo, Mich.: Cistercian, 1985). 217. Synodicon Orientale ou Recueil de Synodes Nestoriens (Publié, Traduit et Annoté par J. B. Chabot; Paris: Imprimerie Nationale), 293–94; author’s translation from the French. 218. Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 5.38 (NPNF 2, 3.157).


219. W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 126; see Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 7.18 (NPNF 2, 2.161–63) for his account of the persecution. 220. Marcellus, De medicina 23.77, Corpus Medicorum Latinorum 5 (ed. M. Niedermann; Leipzig-Berlin: B. G. Teubneri, 1916), 185; in GLAJJ 2:582; see also Stemberger, Jews and Christians, 245. 221. Codex theodosianus 16.8.22; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 41, and commentary (267–272). 222. Codex theodosianus 16.9.3; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 42 (272–274). 223. Codex theodosianus 16.8.29; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 53 (320–323). 224. Theophanes, The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor: Byzantine and Near Eastern History, A.D. 284–813 (trans. with introduction and commentary by Cyril Mango and Roger Scott with the assistance of Geoffrey Greatrex; Oxford: Clarendon, 1997), a.m. 5942. 225. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 55 (337–355). 226. Neusner, HJB 5.56–59. 227. DAR 41–42. 228. Jacob Neusner, Judaism and Christianity in the Age of Constantine: History, Messiah, Israel, and the Initial Confrontation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987), 36. 229. Oxford Classical Dictionary, “pagans, paganism”; Tertullian, The Crown 11.4–5; Tertullian, On Idolatry 2.14; Augustine, Eighty-three Different Questions (De diversis quaestionibus LXXXIII) 83; Augustine, Against Faustus 16.1, 10; 20.10; 30.2. 230. Cod. theod. 16:5:43, Linder, Roman imperial legislation, no. 35 (226–236); Cod. theod. 16:5:46, Linder, no. 38 (241–255); Cod. theod. 16:8:26, Linder, no. 48 (289–295). 231. Procopius, History 1.20.1; cf. “ancestral faith,” Secret History 11.22; 27.8. 232. Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1997), 7. 233. John Chrysostom, Discourses against Judaizing Christians, Saint John Chrysostom (trans. Paul W. Harkins; Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1979), xxxiv. 234. F. Trombley, Hellenic religion and Christianization, c. 370–529 (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 2.289. 235. Codex theodosianus 10.10.4, 6. 236. Codex theodosianus 10.10.10. 237. Seth Schwartz, Imperialism and Jewish Society, 200 B.C.E to 640 C.E. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001) and Daniel Boyarin, Border Lines: The Partition of JudaeoChristianity (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004), are leading proponents of this interpretation of Judaism and Christianity. 238. Schwartz, Imperialism, 179. 239. Boyarin, Border Lines, 1–33. 240. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 3.33 (trans. Ernest C. Richardson, NPNF 2,1.529). 241. Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years (2d ed.; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), 242–49, disagrees with the revisionist interpretation on the significance of the apparent explosion of synagogues. 242. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, 55–58. 243. Philo, Embassy 143–150 (trans. F. H. Colson and J. W. Earp, LCL). 244. Codex theodosianus 16.8.24; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 45 (280–283). 245. Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 362. 246. Eusebius, Life of Constantine 4.27 (trans. Ernest C. Richardson, NPNF 2,1.547). 247. M Sotah 9:15. 248. BT Sanhedrin 97b. 249. Augustine, Epistle 196.3.13; cited in Marcel Simon, Verus Israel: A Study of the Relations between Christians and Jews in the Roman Empire (135–425) (trans. H. McKeating; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), 188.

780 Notes to pages 551–59 250. Ambrose, De Jacob et via beata 2.9.2, cited by Israel J. Yuval, Two Nations in Your Womb: Perceptions of Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages (trans. Barbara Harshav and Jonathan Chipman; Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006), 19. 251. PT Nedarim 3.8 [Neusner, I:1]. 252. BT Shabbat 56b. 253. Gen 27:41; 1 Kgs 22:27; PT Avodah Zarah 1.2 [Neusner, I:4]; Jacob Neusner, Transformations in Ancient Judaism: Textual Evidence for Creative Responses to Crisis (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004), 140–41. 254. Leviticus Rabbah 5; see Jacob Neusner, From Enemy to Sibling: Rome and Israel in the First Century of Western Civilization (Flushing, N.Y.: Queens College of the City University of New York, 1986); and Judaism and Christianity in the Age of Constantine: History, Messiah, Israel, and the Initial Confrontation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987). Although many of the Esau-Rome associations are made by Tannaim and Amoraim before the fourth century, Neusner works from the moment of final compilation, ca. 400, the safest approach, and argues for the final meaning of the collection, which is the Christian Rome of its day, and according to Neusner, the first century of Christianized western civilization. 255. BT Gittin 56a; the text reads that when Titus tore the curtain and blood spurted, “he thought he had slain himself,” which is a euphemism for God. 256. Yuval, Two Nations, 40–49, describes the Christian legends and provides all the analysis adopted here. Scholars note that the Jewish legend could be the influence to which Christian legends respond, rather than vice versa, but Yuval argues that the details of the Jewish legend are best explained by the existing Christian themes. The wasp (vespa) flows naturally from the name Vespasian, whereas the gnat is a more awkward element in the Jewish legend, unless it mimics the Christian legend. 257. Victor A. Tcherikover, CPJ 1.101–02, 107. 258. Leonard V. Rutgers, The Hidden Heritage of Diaspora Judaism (Leuven: Peeters, 1998), 235–84; and his more recent assessment in CHJ 4:504–5. 259. On the Demonstrations, see Lawrence Lahey, “Evidence for Jewish Believers in Christian-Jewish Dialogues through the Sixth Century (Excluding Justin),” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 628–31. 260. Aphrahat, Demonstration 5.23. 261. See, for example, Naomi Koltun-Fromm, “A Jewish-Christian Conversation in Fourth-Century Persian Mesopotamia,” Journal of Jewish Studies 47/1 (1996): 44–63. 262. The argument for a non-rabbinic Judaism in Mesopotamia is made by Jacob Neusner, Aphrahat and Judaism: The Christian-Jewish Argument in Fourth-Century Iran (Leiden: Brill, 1971), 123–95. Since then, a number of scholars have sought to show more rabbinic influence than Neusner allowed, mostly by a shared approach to biblical texts, as exemplified in the Koltun-Fromm article cited above, and G. Strousma (CHC 2.163, n. 24) notes that the verdict of Neusner “remains a lonely voice.” But a common exegetical culture shared by Jewish and Christian scholars does not mean Aphrahat discoursed with Talmudic rabbis, or that the rabbis exerted a wider influence on the fourth-century Jews of Mesopotamia than can be defended by other means. 263. James William Parkes, The Conflict of the Church and the Synagogue (New York: Atheneum, 1961), 277. 264. R. Murray, Symbols of Church and Kingdom: A Study in Early Syriac Tradition (London; New York: T&T Clark International, 2004 [1975]), 41, 65. 265. Hymns on Faith 10.10; translation in Murray, Symbols, 65. 266. Christine C. Shepardson, Anti-Judaism and Christian Orthodoxy: Ephrem’s Hymns in Fourth-Century Syria (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 2008), 39–40. 267. Hymns on Unleavened Bread 19.19, 22, 25, 28; translation in Shepardson, AntiJudaism and Christian Orthodoxy, 33.


268. This is the well-reasoned conclusion of the recent study of Ephraem by Shepardson, Anti-Judaism and Christian Orthodoxy, especially 157–61. 269. Harkins, Discourses, xxi–l. 270. Chrysostom, Discourse 1.4.1. 271. Harkins, Discourses, 228 n. 43; on the Maccabean shrine, see above section 21.1.2.5. 272. Chrysostom, Discourse 8.6.11; he quotes Jer 7:16; 15:1. 273. 2 Kgs 16:3; 21:6; cf. 23:10; child sacrifice is to demons in Deut 32:17; Ps 106:37 [mt 105]. 274. R. L. Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 95–127. 275. References are given in S. Krauss, “The Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” The Jewish Quarterly Review 7 (1894): 225–61, 233–35; reprinted as The Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers (Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias Press, 2007), which includes all three segments of the original publication in The Jewish Quarterly Review 5–7 (1892–4). 276. Jerome, Epistle 125.12. 277. Jerome, Lives of Illustrious Men 3; Jerome, Adversus Pelagianos dialogi III 3.2; Oskar Skarsaune, “Greek and Latin Patristic Literature,” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 542–45; A. F. J. Klijn and G. J. Reinink, Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects (Leiden: Brill, 1973), 226–29. 278. Formerly it was thought Jerome was simply echoing Origen, even quoting him about “my Hebrew master,” but now it is recognized that Jerome was proficient in Hebrew and much influenced by Jews; Skarsaune, “Greek and Latin Patristic Literature,” 546. 279. Jerome, Epistle 36. 280. Jerome, Epistle 84.3. 281. Marc Hirshman, A Rivalry of Genius Jewish and Christian Biblical Interpretation in Late Antiquity (trans. Batya Stein; Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996), 102–3. 282. Rufinus, Apology 1.7. 283. Hillel I. Newman, “Jerome’s Judaizers,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 9/4 (2001): 421–52, in general on Jerome’s actual use of the term, as well as the misinterpretation of it by many scholars. 284. Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 444–45. 285. Jerome, Epistle 108.27. 286. Hirshman, Rivalry of Genius, 104–8, and sources cited, describes the familiarity of Jerome with Jewish midrash; see also Krauss, “Jews,” 249–53 (reprint 79–83). 287. Paula Fredriksen, Augustine and the Jews: A Christian Defense of Jews and Judaism (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 2008), 308–14; with special emphasis on Letter 8 from the newly discovered cache of letters, published in 1981, which refers to Licinius the Jew, who brought a case before Augustine and received justice. 288. Paula Fredriksen, “Divine Justice and Human Freedom: Augustine on Jews and Judaism 392–398,” in From Witness to Witchcraft: Jews and Judaism in Medieval Christian Thought (ed. Jeremy Cohen; 1997), 29–54; and her expanded study in Fredricksen, Augustine and the Jews, 214–371. 289. Justin, Dialogue with Trypho 12, 18, 21, 22, 27. 290. Rom 9, especially vv. 4–5. 291. Fredriksen, Augustine and the Jews, 290–302; Boyarin, Border Lines, 209. 292. Ante legum, sub lege, sub gratia, in pace; from Expositio Propositionum ex Epistola ad Romanos, 13–18; Fredriksen, “Divine Justice,” 34–35; Augustine and the Jews, 163–64. 293. Augustine, Against Faustus 12.8. 294. Acts 16:3; Timothy’s mother was Jewish, his father Greek, and he was not circumcised as an infant but when he joined Paul, so as to not offend Jews unnecessarily. 295. Against Faustus 12.23. 296. Augustine, Ennarations on Psalms 41.13; 57.7. 297. Augustine, Against Faustus 16.21 (trans. Richard Stothert, NPNF 1, 4.227).

782 Notes to pages 565–76 298. Ps 59:11 [mt 12], kjv, which best reflects Augustine’s Latin; Fredriksen, Augustine and the Jews, 261–89, 318–25; and the primary texts listed, especially Augustine, Against Faustus 12.12–13; Augustine, Ennarations on the Psalms 59.1.21; City of God 18.26. 299. Jerome, Epistle 70.3. 300. Jerome, Illustrious Lives 11; Isidore of Pelusium, Epistle 3.81. 301. Ambrose, Paradise (De paradiso) 4.25. 302. Philo: Creation 71; Good Person 13; Alleg. Interp. 1.84; 3.82; Ambrose, in David Runia, Philo in Early Christian Literature: A Survey (CRINT 3.3; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 308. 303. Philo, QG 2.1–7. 304. Augustine, Against Faustus 12.39. 305. Athanasius, Orations against the Arians (Contra Arius) 2.79. 306. Isidore of Pelusium, Epistle 3.19; Runia, Philo, 207. 307. Isidore of Pelusium, Epistle 2.143; Runia, Philo, 206. 308. Basil the Great, Epistle 190.3. 309. Gregory of Nyssa, Against Eunomius 3.5.23; 3.7.8; 1.79. 310. Runia, Philo, 4–7. 311. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 2.16–17 (trans. K. Lake, LCL), author’s emphasis. 312. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 1.12 (trans. K. Lake, LCL). 313. Eusebius, Proof of the Gospel 1.11.8 (trans. W. J. Ferrar; repr. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1981). 314. Origen, Against Celsus 1.45. 315. Translations from William Varner. Ancient Jewish-Christian Dialogues: Athanasius and Zacchaeus, Simon and Theophilus, Timothy and Aquila: Introductions, Texts, and Translations (Lewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen, 2004), 17–85. 316. Ibid., 87–133. 317. Here Theophilus opens with the well-known ancient proverb but quotes the Septuagint translation for the Hebrew: “Let not him that girds on his armor boast himself as he that puts it off ” (1 Kgs 20:11 [lxx 21:11]). 318. Varner, Ancient Jewish-Christian Dialogues, 135–281. 319. Severus of Minorca, Letter on the Conversion of the Jews (ed. and trans. Scott Bradbury; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996). 320. BT Sanhedrin 38b. 321. The name Metatron is probably derived from the Latin metator (“guide”), often an army surveyor who prepared the terrain for camp, hence appropriated for the angel that went before Israel. Someone no doubt thought it providential that the numerical value of Metatron, 314, is the same as Shaddai (“Almighty”). The word used for “messenger” (parvanka), is a Persian loan word for official letter carrier for the King of kings. See “parvanka,” Marcus Jastrow, Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Talmud Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature (2 vols.; repr. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2005), 1217. 322. Reuven Kimelman, “Rabbi Yokhanan and Origen on the Song of Songs: A ThirdCentury Jewish-Christian Disputation.” HTR 73 (1980): 567–95; Hirshman, Rivalry of Genius, 83–94. 323. So the Jewish Publication Society (1985, 1999); the nrsv (1989), rsv, niv; the older JPS (1917), and kjv have “after the tenor of.” For a thorough analysis of the development of oral Torah, see Martin S. Jaffee, Torah in the Mouth: Writing and Oral Tradition in Palestinian Judaism, 200 BCE–400 CE (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001). 324. Tanhuma (Buber Recension) Vayyera 6, in Midrash Tanhuma (trans. John T. Townsend; 3 vols.; Hoboken, N.J.: Ktav, 1989), 1:93–94. 325. Tanhuma (Buber) Ki Tissa 9.17, Midrash Tanhuma 2:161. 326. Gen 26:4–5: “I will multiply your descendants as the stars of heaven, and will give to your descendants all these lands; and by your descendants all the nations of the earth shall bless themselves: because Abraham obeyed my voice and kept my charge, my commandments, my statutes, and my laws,” in which my “laws” is the plural of Torah, Torot; see comments of Ashi or Rava in BT Yoma 28b.


327. Besides the erroneous time, the modern textual tradition mentions an unnamed disciple, but the uncensored manuscripts refer to Jesus. 328. BT Sotah 47a, altered for clarity. 329. 2 Kgs 4–5; R. Travers Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Midrash (London: Williams & Norgate, 1903; repr., Jersey City, N.J.: Ktav, 2007), 97–103, presents the argument. 330. BT Sanhedrin 43a; following the translation of Joseph Klausner, Jesus of Nazareth: His Life, Times, and Teaching (New York: Macmillan, 1925; repr., New York: Bloch, 1997), 27, with alteration. 331. Peter Schäfer, Jesus in the Talmud (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007), 64–65. 332. BT Sanhedrin 43a; translation Soncino, slightly altered. 333. Justin, Apology 1.31. 334. See the analysis of Schäfer, Jesus in the Talmud, 75–81. 335. BT Gittin 56b–57a; reformatted for clarity. 336. BT Eruvin 21a. 337. As Schäfer has recently proposed, Jesus in the Talmud, 82–94. 338. Testament of Solomon, in OTP 1:935–87. 339. PGM LXXI.3–4; PGM V.209–210; PGM III.76–78, in Hans D. Betz, ed., The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation Including the Demotic Spells (2d ed.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 20, 104, 298. 340. CHJ 2:709. 341. Isa 34:14; jps 1985. 342. Mark 7:22 (kjv gives literal translation); M Avot 2:9. 343. BT Berakhot 6a. 344. PT Shabbat 14.4 [Neusner, I:3 EE–HH]; Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 108–9. 345. PT Sanhedrin 7.13 [Neusner, I:3]; translation adapted from Herford, Christianity in the Talmud and Mishnah, 112–16; see also comments of Philip S. Alexander, “Jewish Believers in Early Rabbinic Literature (2d to 5th Centuries),” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskat Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 696–97. 346. BT Pesahim 118b.

Notes to Part 6 1. Jordanes, Gothic History (Getica) 243. 2. The Chronicle of Joshua the Stylile (trans. W. Wright; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1882), 9. 3. Third Letter of Cyril to Nestorius, in J. Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies: Documents Illustrating the History of the Church, A.D. 337–461 (new ed.; rev. W. H. C. Frend; London: SPCK, 1989), no. 222 (301–9), here 305; the phrase is variously transmitted, sometimes using physis as equivalent of hypostatsis for “nature” and “incarnate” applying to Word, instead of nature. The Greek hypostatsis stresses “individuality,” while physis stresses “inner essence.” 4. The designation Monophysite was applied by the Chalcedonians to those who believe in “only one nature,” and therefore it is considered a pejorative; so modern historians are making the change to Miaphysite “one incarnate nature,” based on a more neutral reading of the ancient sources, but Monophysite remains the most prevalent form; see CHC 3.65–66. 5. Evagrius Scholasticus, Ecclesiastical History 3.14. 6. 1 Cor 11:19; Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 1.11, trans. E. Walford (1846); emphasis added. 7. Salvian, The Governance of God 4.15; trans. Sanford.

784 Notes to pages 594–604 8. Wilhelm Baum and Dietmar W. Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), 26; W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 130. 9. CHI 3/1:149. 10. Translation by S. P. Brock; quoted in Baum and Winkler, Church of the East, 29. 11. Procopius, History of the Wars 1.19; Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 237. 12. John 4:16–26. 13. Procopius, Buildings 5.7. 14. John Malalas, The Chronicle of John Malalas (trans. Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott; Melbourne: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies; Sydney: University of Sydney, 1986), 15.8 (382.10–383.4); Malalas, Chronicon Paschal 484 (95–96); Procopius, Buildings 5.7; Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 241–43. 15. The circus factions, Greens and Blues, were the descendants of the chariot race factions going back to late Republican Rome. Originally there were four colors, Reds, Whites, Greens, and Blues. We first met them in Antioch, also rioting during the reign of Caligula (see section 11.2.3), who was a notorious supporter of the Greens. 16. Malalas, Chronicle 15.15. 17. Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 7.38. 18. HJB 5:254. 19. DAR, Ravina II, 354–55. 20. Geo Widengren, “The Status of the Jews in the Sassanian Empire,” Iranica Antiqua 1 (1961): 142; HJB 5:60; CHI 3/2:915–16. 21. HJB 5:62–63. 22. HJB 5:137; in Hebrew Iggeret Rav Sherira Gaon (ISG), written in 987. 23. BT Avodah Zarah 9b. 24. BT Hullin 62b. 25. CHI 3/2:915; the argument and sources are in HJB 5:60–66; also Widengren, “Status,” 143. 26. Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 3.32; Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 120. 27. Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 3.38; Alexander A. Vasiliev, History of the Byzantine Empire, 324–1453 (2 vols.; 2d English ed., rev.; Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1961), 1:110; Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 121. 28. Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 609. 29. Malalas, Chronicle, 16, who claims it was suggested by the philosopher Proclus ( fl. 412–485) around 450; Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 3.43; Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 121. 30. John Moorhead, Theoderic in Italy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), 252. 31. Law 143; Moorhead, Theoderic in Italy, 76. 32. Cassiodorus, Variae 2.27.2; Moorhead, Theoderic in Italy, 97. 33. Anonymous Valesianus 94; published as appendix in Rolfe, Ammianus Marcellinus, 3.508–69, LCL; Codex theodosianus, Novela 3.2. 34. Anonymous Valesianus, 81–82; Moorhead, Theoderic in Italy, 98–99, translated the garbled Latin differently from Rolfe and is followed here. 35. Moorehead, Theoderic in Italy, 51–52. 36. Gregory of Tours, History 2.31. 37. Gelasius, Ep. 12.2; O. O’Donovan and J. L. O’Donovan, eds., From Irenaeus to Grotius: A Sourcebook in Christian Political Thought (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1999), 179. 38. The distinction extends back to the Chronicler’s description of the reign of Jehoshaphat, where in an obvious anachronism, the Chronicler has Jehoshaphat reorganize his government under two separate offices, one for God and one for the king: “And behold, Amariah the chief priest is over you in all matters of the Lord; and Zebadiah the son of Ishmael, the governor of the house of Judah, in all the king’s matters” (2 Chr 19:11). 39. Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 604.


40. Amnon Linder, The Jews in the Legal Sources of the Early Middle Ages (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1997), 416–17. 41. Because Herod the Great died four years earlier, a.u.c. 750, the birth of Jesus is reckoned between 4 to 8 years “Before Christ” (b.c.); Jack Finegan, Handbook of Biblical Chronology (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1964), 132–33; 215–31. 42. Caesarius, Sermon 104.6; cited in William E. Klingshirn, Caesarius of Arles: The Making of a Christian Community in Late Antique Gaul (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 179. 43. Caesarius, Sermons 1.8; 13.3; 73.4; cited in Klingshirn, Caesarius of Arles, 180. 44. Messanius and Stephanus, Vita 2.49; Klingshirn, Caesarius of Arles, 180. 45. Aubrey Russell Vine, The Nestorian Churches (New York: AMS Press, 1980), 57. 46. Vine, Nestorian Churches, 61–62. 47. A. Mingana, Bulletin of the John Ryland Library 9 (1925): 303, in Vine, Nestorian Churches, 62. 48. Synodicon Orientale 312. 49. Adrian Fortesque, Lesser Eastern Churches (London: Catholic Truth Society, 1913), 82. 50. Synodicon Orientale 310. 51. W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 135. 52. W. H. C. Frend, The Rise of the Monophysite Movement; Chapters in the History of the Church in the Fifth and Sixth Centuries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972), 247–49. 53. Ignatius Aphram Barsoum, The Scattered Pearls: A History of Syriac Literature and Sciences (trans. and ed. Matti Moosa; Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias Press, 2003), 262–70. 54. Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 608–9; Barsoum, Scattered Pearls, 276–89. 55. Eleazar Lipa Sukenik, The Ancient Synagogue of Beth Alpha: An Account of the Excavations Conducted on Behalf of the Hebrew University, Jerusalem (Oxford University Press, 1932; repr., Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias Press, 2007), 43–46, and plate XXV. The name Beth Alpha is conjectured from the modern Arabic name for the village of Beit Ilfa to a settlement named for the original landowner, Ilfa, a companion of R. Johanan b. Nappaha (e.g., BT Ta’anit 21a). 56. Cassiodorus, Variae 4.33.1; John Moorhead, Theoderic in Italy (Oxford: Clarendon, 1992), 79. 57. Cyprian of Toulon, Life of Caesarius of Arles 29–31; in J. N. Hillgarth, Christianity and Paganism, 350–750: The Conversion of Western Europe (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1986), 37–38. 58. H. L. Strack and G. Stemberger. Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 222–24; see R. Kalmin in CHJ, 4:842–43. 59. HJB 5:95–105. 60. Such as H. Graetz, History of the Jews (6 vols.; repr., Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1941), 3:3–4. 61. The Chronicle of Pseudo-Joshua the Stylite (trans. Frank R. Trombley and John W. Watt; Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2000), 72–74. 62. Zachariah of Mitylene, Syriac Chronicle 9.4 (ed. J. B. Bury; trans. E. J. Hamilton and E. W. Brooks; London: Methuen, 1899), 225–26; HJB 5:106. 63. J. A. S. Evans, The Age of Justinian: The Circumstances of Imperial Power (London: Routledge, 1996), 112–14; Gordon Darnell Newby, A History of the Jews of Arabia (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1988), 33–48; Book of the Himyarites (ed. Axel Möberg; Skrifter Kungliga Humanistika Vetenskapssamfundet i Lund 7; Lund: Gleerup, 1924). 64. Jastrow, Dictionary, 1468, Targum Yonatan Num 12:13; Targum Ps 112:4, etc.; Zeev Rubin, “Judaism and Rahmanite Monotheism in the Himyarite Kingdom in the Fifth Century,” in Israel and Ishmael: Studies in Muslim-Jewish relations (ed. Tudor Parfitt; New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000), 32–51. 65. Al-Tabari, History 1:919, 5:191–92 n. 486.

786 Notes to pages 611–29 66. Gordon Darnell Newby, A History of the Jews of Arabia: From Ancient Times to Their Eclipse under Islam (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1988), 46 n. 56; Book of the Himyarites, cv. 67. S. Brock and S. A. Harvey, Holy Women of the Syrian Orient (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), 100–21. 68. John Stewart, Nestorian Missionary Enterprise (New York: AMS Press, 1980), 57. 69. Al-Tabari, History 1:927–28. 70. J. Spencer Trimingham, Christianity among the Arabs in Pre-Islamic Times (Beirut: Librairie du Liban, 1979), 298–302. 71. Procopius Secret History 9.1–28 (trans. H. B. Dewing, LCL); Alexander A. Vasiliev, History of the Byzantine Empire, 324–1453 (2 vols.; 2d English ed., rev.; Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1961), 1:132. 72. Procopius, Secret History 11.25–30; also CAH 14:478, 598 on refugees in Persia; and Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 242–43. 73. Theophanes, The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor: Byzantine and Near Eastern History, A.D. 284–813 (trans. with introduction and commentary by Cyril Mango and Roger Scott with the assistance of Geoffrey Greatrex; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), a.m. 6021; Mango and Scott note that Theophanes has intentionally transferred an event that happened under Kavad, in 529–530, to Khusrau. 74. Codex theodosianus 15.12.1. 75. Vasiliev, Byzantine Empire, 1:155. 76. Procopius, Secret History 10.13–14; Mitchell, History of the Later Roman Empire, 129–30. 77. Procopius, Wars 1.24, 35–37 (trans. H. B. Dewing, LCL); Vasiliev, Byzantine Empire, 1:157. 78. Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 132. 79. Procopius, Wars 4.9.6–9; HJPJC 2 1:510. 80. Procopius, Wars 5.8.4–9.7; 10.24–26. 81. Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 4.29. 82. Procopius, Wars 2.22.1–2 (trans. H. B. Dewing, LCL). 83. Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 373; citing John of Ephesus. 84. Justinian, Novel 131. 85. Zurvan: A Zoroastrian Dilemma (trans. R. C. Zaehner; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1955), 8 (emphasis added); also cited in CHI 3/2:893–94. 86. Justinian, Novel 7.2.1. 87. Frend, Monophysite Movement, 285. 88. Ibid., 286. 89. Ibid., 288, citing Life of John of Hephaestopolis PO 18, 536–39. 90. John of Ephesus, Lives of Jacob and Theodore PO 19, 156–58; cited in Frend, Monophysite Movement, 293. 91. Wilhelm Baum and Dietmar W. Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), 33; W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 136. 92. Procopius, Wars 2.13.1–6; 14.1–4. 93. Synodicon Orientale 555–561. 94. Synodicon Orientale 561. 95. Ps 45:7 [mt 45:8; lxx 44:8]; John 1:1; Synodicon Orientale 553; author’s translation from the French. 96. Fragment 6.1 lines 400–407; The History of Menander the Guardsman (trans. R. C. Bockley; Liverpool: Francis Cairns Publications, 1985), 75–77. 97. Codex justinianus 1.5.12. 98. Codex justinianus 1.5.12; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 56 (356–367). 99. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, 76–77, notes that there are strong grounds for doubting that the ban against Jews serving in the military was strictly enforced, as Justinian


himself admits. Despite the ban in 418 (Cod. theod. 16.8.24), military officers came from the ranks of the “barbarians” and were largely independent of imperial control until reaching the higher ranks, if then. The extent to which Jews sought to serve in the military is a different matter, but it is fairly clear that if they wished to do so, the doors were open and some had entered into military service. 100. Justinian, Novel 45. 101. Codex theodosianus 16.7.7; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 52 (313–319). 102. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 61 (375–380). 103. Justinian, Novel 12. 104. Justinian, Novel no. 139; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 63 (389–392). 105. Justinian, Novel 37; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 62 (381–389). 106. Procopius, Buildings 6.22; cf. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, 388 n. 10 (138–144). 107. Procopius, Secret History 28.16–18. 108. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 65 (398–402). 109. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 249. 110. M Sotah 7:1; PT Sotah 7.1 [Neusner, I:4 A–E]. 111. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, 403. 112. Codex justinianus, Novel 146; Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, no. 66 (402– 411); S. Bowman, CHJ 4:1045; Leonard V. Rutgers, “Justinian’s Novella 146 between Jews and Christians,” in Jewish Culture and Society under the Christian Roman Empire (ed. Richard Kalmin and Seth Schwartz; Leuven: Peeters, 2003), 386–407, argues the Jewish involvement instigating the law was less than supposed, and possibly contrived by Justinian. In response, we may note that while it is possible Justinian seized the opportunity for his own purpose, the controversy within the synagogue should not be reduced to a formality, given the difficulty of the rabbis (as distinct from the patriarchs) to achieve authority among the Jews. 113. John Malalas, The Chronicle of John Malalas (trans. Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott; Melbourne: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies; Sydney: University of Sydney, 1986), 18.119; followed by Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6048. 114. H. L. Strack and G. Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 109. 115. Geo Widengren, “The Status of the Jews in the Sassanian Empire,” Iranica Antiqua 1 (1961): 156. 116. John of Ephesus, Ecclesiastical History part 3, book 1, translated by R. P. Smith, Introduction (1860). 117. Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 5.13; Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 396. 118. Sura 105 Al-Fil (“The Elephant”); trans. by Maulana Muhammad Ali, 1917; on the confusion of two different events attributed to Abraha or his sons, Yaksum (ca. 560–572) and Masruq (572–573), see J. Spencer Trimingham, Christianity among the Arabs in PreIslamic Times (Beirut: Librairie du Liban, 1979), 304–5, citing Ibn Hisham, 38–47, followed by al-Tabari 1.945–46. 119. CHI 3/1:156–57; Ibn Hisham, 41–46 (Guillaume, Life of Muhammad, 30–33); alTabari 1.946–50. 120. Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 397. 121. Mitchell, Later Roman Empire, 406 n. 6; John, bishop of Nikiu, Chronicle 109.18. 122. Neil Christie, The Lombards: The Ancient Longobards (Oxford: Blackwell, 1995), 57. 123. Gregory, Epistle 1.4. 124. Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 661, citing text in Monumenta Germaniae Historica Epp. 2.470. 125. Chadwick, Church in Ancient Society, 672. 126. Gregory, Epistle 8.25 (year 598); see Linder, Jews in the Legal Sources, 434. 127. Gregory, Epistle 1.34; trans. Linder, Jews in the Legal Sources, 418. 128. Gregory, Epistle 1.69; 2.38.

788 Notes to pages 640–50 129. Gregory, Epistle 5.7. 130. Frend, Monophysite Movement, 320. 131. Evagrius, Ecclesiatical History 5.4. 132. W. Stewart McCullough, A Short History of Syriac Christianity to the Rise of Islam (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982), 142. 133. Wilhelm Baum and Dietmar W. Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History (London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003), 36; but the event is considered doubtful by McCullough, Syriac Christianity, 145. 134. Baum, Church of the East, 36; McCullough, Syriac Christianity, 146. 135. Frend, Monophysite Movement, 336, on the marriage to Maria; Anonymous Guidi 5 records that Khusrau had a second Christian wife named Maria the Roman, who was later said to be a daughter of Maurice (al Tabari 994, 999), though many scholars find this dubious (cf. Bosworth, The History of Al-Tabari, 5:312 n. 729). Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 6.21. 136. John of Ephesus, Ecclesiastical History 3.26. 137. John of Nikiu, John, Bishop of Nikiu: Chronicle (trans. R. H. Charles; London: Williams & Norgate, 1916). 138. Agapius of Menbidj, Kitab al-U nvan (The Book of the Title), PO 8.439–40. See comments by Glanville Downey, A History of Antioch in Syria from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961), 571; also discussed by David Olster, Roman Defeat, Christian Response, and the Literary Construction of the Jew (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1994), 4. 139. Gregory, Epistles 1.34; 2.6. 140. Codex theodosianus 2.1.10. 141. Gregory, Epistle 9.38. 142. Gregory, Epistle 13.13. 143. Gregory, Epistle 9.196; Codex theodosianus, Novel 146. 144. Gregory, Epistle 1.45. 145. Gregory, Epistle 1.66. 146. Gregory, Epistle 3.38. 147. Gregory, Epistle 9.214; also Linder, Jews in the Legal Sources, 720. 148. Gregory, Epistle 4.21. 149. Gregory, Epistle 9.105. 150. Gregory, Epistle 6.29. 151. Gregory, Epistle 8.23. 152. Theophylact Simocatta, The History of Theophylact Simocatta: An English Translation with Introduction and Notes by Michael and Mary Whitby (Oxford: Clarendon, 1986), 5.7.5–9. 153. See Geo Widengren, “The Status of the Jews in the Sassanian Empire,” Iranica Antiqua 1 (1961): 117–62 (146–47); A. Scharf, “Byzantine Jewry in the Seventh Century,” Biblische Zeitschrift 48 (1955): 103–15. 154. Neusner, HJB 5:126–27. 155. Chronicon Paschale 605 (trans. Whitby and Whitby). 156. Walter E. Kaegi, Heraclius: Emperor of Byzantium (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 67 n. 33; Theophylactus Simocatta, History 8.13.3–6; 8.15.8. 157. Synodicon Orientale 581; author’s translation from the French. 158. Antiochus Strategos, The Capture of Jerusalem by the Persians in 614, 18; translated by F. C. Conybeare, English Historical Review 25 (1910), 502–17, 506. 159. Sebeos, History of Armenia, 115 (trans. R. W. Thompson). 160. Robert Schick, The Christian Communities of Palestine from Byzantine to Islamic Rule (Princeton, N.J.: Darwin Press, 1995), 350–59. 161. Sebeos, History of Armenia, 115. 162. Strategos, Capture of Jerusalem; Conybeare, 508. 163. R. Reich, “ ‘God Knows Their Names’: Mass Christian Grave Revealed in Jerusalem,” Biblical Archaeology Review 22 (1996): 26–33, 60. 164. Avi Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 266, citing the Book of Zerubbabel.


165. Schick, Christian Communities, 31. 166. Avi-Yonah, Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule, 267, citing Sargis d’Aberga 90 (PO 13:62). 167. Schick, Christian Communities, 27, cites Eutychius, Annals 122 and 128; and provides a translation of the texts on pages 102 and 108. 168. Chronicon Paschal 615. 169. Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6113; see Evagrius, Ecclesiastical History 4.27, on the origin of the image that was associated with the letter of Jesus to Abgar in the Doctrine of Addai. 170. George of Pisidia, De Expeditione Persica, 2.88–115; translation in Kaegi, Heraclius, 113–14. 171. Kaegi, Heraclius, 115. 172. Sebeos, History, 123. 173. Sebeos, History, 134; Arab source, Agapius, Kitab al-Unvan, PO 8:465–66; cited in Kaegi, Heraclius, 180 n. 95. 174. Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6119; see notes in Theophanes, The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor: Byzantine and Near Eastern History, A.D. 284–813 (trans. with introduction and commentary by Cyril Mango and Roger Scott with the assistance of Geoffrey Greatrex; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), 457. 175. Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6120. 176. Sebeos, History, 131. 177. Kaegi, Heraclius, 205; Mango and Scott, The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor, 459 n. 3. 178. In restitutionem S. Crucis 1.1; 5.108; translation in Kaegi, Heraclius, 206. 179. Robert G. Hoyland, Seeing Islam as Others Saw It (Princeton, N.J.: Darwin Press, 1997), 55. 180. Sebeos, History, 135. 181. Barakat Ahmad, Muhammad and the Jews: A Reexamination (New Delhi: Vikas, 1979), 29–30, 43. 182. Ibn Hisham, 353–54. 183. Ahmad, Muhammad and the Jews, 39–41; text in Ibn Hisham, 341–44; see articles of rights (46–47); also W. Montgomery Watt, Muhammad at Medina (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1956). 184. Ibn Hisham, 545; trans. Gillaume, Life of Muhammad. 185. Ibn Hisham, 545; Ahmad, Muhammad and the Jews, 58–62. 186. Ibn Hisham, 543, and papyrus fragment, in M. J. Kister, “Notes on the Papyrus Text about Muhammad’s Campaign against the B. al-Nadhir,” Archiv Orientalni 32 (1964): 234; cited in Ahmad, Muhammad and the Jews, 63. 187. Qur’an, Sura 33 Al-Ahzab (“The Confederates”). 188. Ahmad, Muhammad and the Jews, 67–94. 189. Ibn Hisham, 401–10 (Guillaume, Life of Muhammad, 270–77); associated with Sura 3 Al Imran (“House of Imran”). 190. J. Spencer Trimingham, Christianity among the Arabs in Pre-Islamic Times (Beirut: Librairie du Liban, 1979), 306–7. 191. Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6124; Mango and Scott, The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor, 467. 192. Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 120, citing Thomas the Presbyter, Chronicle, 147–48, written ca. 640. 193. John Moorhead, The Roman Empire Divided, 400–700 (Harlow, England: Longman, 2001), 210, citing al-Baladhuri, The Origins of the Islamic State (trans. P. K. Hitti; 2 vols.; New York: Columbia University, 1916). 194. Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6127; Mango and Scott, The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor, 471–72. 195. Moorhead, Roman Empire Divided, 210.

790 Notes to pages 662–73 196. Sebeos, History, 139. 197. Epiphanius, Panarion 33.9.4, trans. Williams, 1:205; also Epiphaneus, Panarion 15.2.1. 198. Jerome, Comm. on Isaiah 8.11–15, in A. F. J. Klijn and G. J. Reinink, Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects (Leiden: Brill, 1973), 221. 199. Linder, Roman Imperial Legislation, 408–10. 200. Moorhead, Roman Empire Divided, 140. 201. Richard A. Fletcher, The Barbarian Conversion: From Paganism to Christianity (New York: Henry Holt, 1998), 118, citing Bede, Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum 2.5. 202. Krauss, “Jews in the Works of the Church Fathers,” 242, citing Jerome’s commentary on Zephaniah (Sophonias) 2.8; Krauss notes that if Jerome’s comment is not mere rhetoric, this would be the earliest evidence (ca. 391) for Jews in Britain. 203. “Palestine,” in G. W. Bowersock, Peter Robert Lamont Brown, and Oleg Grabar, eds., Late Antiquity: A Guide to the Postclassical World (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999), 630–32. 204. Michael Avi-Yonah, The Holy Land: A Historical Geography from the Persian to the Arab Conquest (536 b.c. to a.d. 640) (Jerusalem: Carta, 2002), 220–21. 205. Much of the information given here is the analysis of Leonard V. Rutgers, The Hidden Heritage of Diaspora Judaism (Leuven: Peeters, 1998), 73–95; also David Noy, “Material Remains,” in Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity (ed. M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget; London: T&T Clark, 2007), 215–26. 206. Codex theodosianus 16.8.9. 207. Luke 7:1–5. 208. Rutgers, Hidden Heritage, 78. 209. BT Shabbat 72b. 210. Lee I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years (2d ed.; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005), 613–36. 211. David Noy, “Where Were the Jews of the Diaspora Buried?” in Jews in a GraecoRoman World (ed. M. Goodman; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), 75–89. 212. T Gittin 3:13–14. 213. BT Gittin 61a. 214. Noy, “Material Remains,” 223. 215. The following examples are collected and discussed by Ora Limor, “Christian Sacred Space and the Jew,” in From Witness to Witchcraft: Jews and Judaism in Medieval Christian Thought (ed. J. Cohen; Weisbaden: Herzog, 1997), 55–77. 216. Andrew S. Jacobs, “Dialogical Differences: (De-) Judaizing Jesus’ Circumcision,” JECS 15/3 (2007): 291–335. 217. BT Yevamot 47a–b; see discussion of Cohen, Beginnings of Jewishness, 198–238. 218. BT Shabbat 137 a–b. 219. Lord’s prayer: Matt 6:9–15; Luke 11:2–4; see also Matt 6:6; Mark 6:46; Luke 6:12. 220. Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 558–61. 221. PT Shabbat 7.1 [Neusner, III A–C]; BT Shabbat 68a–69b. 222. BT Shabbat 69b. 223. PT Berakhot 1.3 [Neusner, I:3 F]; BT Berakhot 12a. 224. M Megillah 4:3; the basic political unit of ten males goes back at least to the early Second Temple period (Ruth 4:1–2), known especially among the Essenes (Josephus, J. W. 2.146; CD 13.1). 225. Levine, Ancient Synagogue, 583–88. 226. M Berakhot 6:1; Didache 9.2; trans. Lightfoot (1891). 227. T Sanhedrin 2.2; for the developments over time, see S. Stern, Calendar and Community: A History of the Jewish Calendar 2nd Century BCE–10th Century CE (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001). 228. The key Torah association is Exodus 19 “In the third month”; Jubilees 6:19; T Megillah 3.5; and Eleazar b. Pedat declared it openly, BT Pesachim 68b.


229. M Ta’anit 2:9; Didache 8.1. 230. On the emergence of celibacy as a requirement of church leadership, see Andrea Sterk, Renouncing the World yet Leading the Church: The Monk-bishop in Late Antiquity (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2004). 231. M Avodah Zarah 1.3; Origen, Hom. Lev. 8. 232. Clement, Miscellanies 1.21. 233. Song of Songs Rabbah 8.19; Ecclesiastes Rabbah 2.1. 234. Athanasius, Ep. 6.8; for all further discussion and references see the excellent study of Edward Kessler, Bound by the Bible: Jews, Christians, and the Sacrifice of Isaac (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004). 235. Philo, (Mut.) On the Change of Names 131; (Quod. Det.) That the Worse Attacks the Better 124. 236. Genesis Rabbah 56.3–8. 237. Mekhilta de Rabbi Ishmael Pisha 7, 11; Gen. Rab. 49.11; Lev. Rab. 36.5; discussion in Kessler, Bound by the Bible, 126–28, with additional references. 238. All the canons cited here are collected and translated by Linder, Jews in the Legal Sources, 458–500. 239. Bradbury, in CHJ 4:516. 240. Cited by Lawrence Lahey, “Evidence for Jewish Believers in Christian-Jewish Dialogues through the Sixth Century (Excluding Justin),” in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries (ed. Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007), 620. 241. Williams, Adversus Judaeos, 141–50; quotes are from his summary; Lahey, “Evidence for Jewish Believers,” 608–14, provides a judicious analysis, arguing for a historical event behind the obviously legendary contest. 242. See previous section 25.2.2. 243. See previous section 13.2.3. 244. See previous section 25.2.2. 245. Translation from Williams, Adversus Judaeos, 326–38. 246. The Ethiopian version is called Sargis of Aberga. Quotations are from David M. Olster, Roman Defeat, Christian Response, and the Literary Construction of the Jew (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1994), 158–75; see also the analysis of L.Williams, Adversus Judaeos, 151–58. 247. Williams, Adversus Judaeos, 153; Glanville Downey, A History of Antioch in Syria from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961), 572. 248. Olster, Roman Defeat, 163. 249. The events are mentioned at Eusebius Hist. eccl. 3.5.3. The quote is from Olster, Roman Defeat, 165. 250. Jacob Neusner, “Mishnah and Messiah,” in Judaisms and Their Messiahs at the Turn of the Christian Era (ed. J. Neusner et al.; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 265–582. 251. Justin, Dialogue with Trypho 32.6–33.2; BT Sanhedrin 99a. 252. BT Horayot 11b; Sanhedrin 5a. 253. BT Sanhedrin 97b. 254. BT Sanhedrin 98a. 255. All the above traditions, altered to some extent, are found in the collection at BT Sanhedrin 97b–98a; R. Aha is in PT Ta’anit 1.1 [Neusner, II:1 S]; Jacob Neusner, Transformations in Ancient Judaism: Textual Evidence for Creative Responses to Crisis (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004), 163–65. 256. Ps 90:4; 2 Pet 3:8. 257. Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 7.25 (trans. J. E. L. Oulton, LCL). 258. Augustine, City of God 20.7, and elsewhere. 259. BT Shabbat 118a. 260. BT Zevahim 118b.

792 Notes to pages 688–93 261. Pesiqta de Rab Kahana, Supplement 6, end; trans. Braude and Kapstein (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1975); see discussion in Philip S. Alexander, “The Rabbis and Messianism,” in Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity (ed. M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget; London: T&T Clark, 2007), 231 n. 9. 262. M Hagigah 2:1; BT Hagigah 11b–16a. 263. See previous section 15.2.3. 264. 3 En. 45 (trans. P. S. Alexander, Third Enoch [OTP 1.296–98]). 265. Alexander, “The Rabbis and Messianism,” 233. 266. R. L. Wilken, “The Restoration of Israel in Biblical Prophecy: Christian and Jewish Responses in the Early Byzantine Period,” 454–58. 267. Translation in N. R. M. de Lange, “Jews and Christians in the Byzantine Empire: Problems and Prospects,” in Christianity and Judaism: Papers Read at the 1991 Summer Meeting and the 1992 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society (ed. Diana Wood; Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell for the Ecclesiastical History Society, 1992), 28; he thinks the poem may be a revision of poetry written under Hadrian’s rule. 268. Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6122 (The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor: Byzantine and Near Eastern History, A.D. 284–813 [trans. with introduction and commentary by Cyril Mango and Roger Scott with the assistance of Geoffrey Greatrex; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997], 464–65); Guy G. Strousma, “False Prophet, False Messiah, and the Religious Scene in Seventh-Century Jerusalem,” in Redemption and Resistance: The Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity (ed. M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget; London: T&T Clark, 2007), 285–96; especially 293–95. 269. Strousma, “False Prophet,” 285–91. 270. Sebeos, History, 135–36. 271. Philostorgius, Ecclesiastical History 3.5, says the Himyarites descend from Keturah; Moses Khorenats‘i, History of the Armenians, 2.68 (ed. and trans. R. Thompson; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1978), 214, claims Abrahamic descent for the Parthians. 272. Robert G. Hoyland, Seeing Islam as Others Saw It (Princeton, N.J.: Darwin Press, 1997), 528–29, citing a letter (c. 1050) from the academy of Jerusalem to Jews in Egypt; source for Hoyland is Mann, Jews in Egypt and in Palestine under the Fatimid Caliphs (London: Oxford University Press, 1920–1922), 2.189–91; but others are skeptical of the letter’s value; e.g., Moshe Gill, A History of Palestine, 634–1099 (trans. Ethel Broido; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 71. 273. Teaching of Jacob 5.16, 209, trans. Robert Hoyland, Seeing Islam as Others Saw It (Studies in Late Antiquity and Early Islam, 13; Princeton: Darwin Press, 1997), 57. 274. Teaching of Jacob 5.17, 212–13; Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 528. 275. Letter of R. Sherira (ed. B. M. Lewin), 101, 1.2–7; cited in HJB 5:130. 276. BT Yoma 10a. The original Gog, king of Magog in Ezek 38:2 and 39:6, which may have referred to Gyges of Lydia, eventually became the pair “Gog and Magog,” first seen in Rev 20:8, but also adopted in rabbinic tradition to represent the leaders, or leading tribes, of the Gentiles who would advance against Israel to destroy her (e.g., PT Berakhot 2.4 [Zahavy/ Neusner II:1 J]; BT Berakhot 7b). 277. Yohanan ha Cohen, Piyutim 7, II, 233–36; quoted in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 527. 278. Sophronius, Synodal Letter to Patriarch Sergius of Constantinople, PG 87, 3197D– 3200A; translation in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 69; see also discussion in Olster, Roman Defeat, 99–115. 279. Sophronius, Holy Baptism 162; Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 72. 280. Theophanes, Chronographia a.m. 6127, reference to Dan 11:31; Matt 24:15. 281. Maximus, Epistle 8; quoted in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 77–78. 282. Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 74–75. 283. Here begins the Declaration and Oath of the Jews of the City of Toledo; Linder, Jews in the Legal Sources, 497.


Notes to EPILOGUE 1. For an excellent discussion on the issue of anti-Judaism in the New Testament, see William R. Farmer, Anti-Judaism and the Gospels (Harrisburg, Penn.: Trinity Press International, 1999). 2. These explanations are described and evaluated by Paula Fredriksen and O. Irshai, “Christian Anti-Judaism: Polemics and Policies” in CHJ 4:977–1034, specifically 988–98; and in Fredricksen’s essay “What Parting of the Ways?” (see below n. 5). 3. The leading exponent of a strong Jewish mission in antiquity is Louis Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World: Attitudes and Interactions from Alexander to Justinian (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993); for thorough critique of Feldman, see Leonard V. Rutgers, “Attitudes to Judaism in the Greco-Roman Period: Reflections on Feldman’s ‘Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World,’ ” Jewish Quarterly Review 85 (1995): 361–95, reprinted in Hidden Heritage, 199–234; and Feldman’s response, “Reflections on Rutgers’s ‘Attitudes to Judaism in the Greco-Roman Period,’ ” Jewish Quarterly Review 86 (1995): 153–70. 4. J. D. G. Dunn, ed., The Parting of the Ways A.D. 70–135 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1989). 5. Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed, eds., The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003). 6. This distinction of markers is described with exceptional clarity by Robert Kraft, “The Weighing of the Parts: Pivots and Pitfalls in the Study of Early Judaisms and Their Early Christian Offspring,” in The Ways That Never Parted, 87–94. 7. Among the best books for a continuing dialogue, see Bruce Chilton and Jacob Neusner, Classical Christianity and Rabbinic Judaism: Comparing Theologies (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2004); Jacques B. Doukhan, Israel and the Church: Two Voices for the Same God (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002).

Works Cited A. Selected Primary Literature 1. Collections referred to by abbreviation ABD

Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. 6 vols. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1992. ANET Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament. Edited by James B. Pritchard. 3rd ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1969. ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers. 10 vols. Repr. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1994. CAH Cambridge Ancient History. 14 vols. 3d ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970–2005. CHC Cambridge History of Christianity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006–. Cambridge History of Christianity: Vol. 1. Origins to Constantine. Edited by K. Scott Bowie, Margaret Mary Mitchell, and Frances M. Young, 2006. Cambridge History of Christianity: Vol. 2. Constantine to c. 600. Edited by Augustine Casiday and Frederick W. Norris, 2007. CHI Cambridge History of Iran. Edited by E. Yarshater. 7 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968–1991. CHJ Cambridge History of Judaism. Edited by W. D. Davies and Louis Finkelstein. 4 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984–2006. DAR Dictionary of Ancient Rabbis. Selections from the Jewish Encyclopedia, 1903. Edited by Jacob Neusner. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2003. GLAJJ Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism. Edited by Menaham Stern. 3 vols. Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Science and Humanities, 1976–1984. HJB History of the Jews in Babylonia. Rev. ed. 5 vols. Edited by Jacob Neusner. Leiden: Brill, 1999. HJPJC 2 History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ. 3 vols. E. Schürer. Translated by T. A. Burkill. Revised and edited by Géza Vermès and Fergus Millar. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1973–1987. LCL Loeb Classical Library. NPNF Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. Series 1 and 2. 28 vols. Repr. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1994. OTP Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1983–1985.

2. Dead Sea Scrolls The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English: Translated from the Hebrew and Aramaic and Edited by Géza Vermès. New York: Allen Lane/Penguin Press, 2004.


3. Rabbinic Texts Mishnah: The Mishnah, Translated from the Hebrew with Introduction and Brief Explanatory Notes by Herbert Danby. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1938; Jacob Neusner, The Mishnah: A New Translation. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988. Tosefta: Jacob Neusner et al. The Tosefta, Translated from the Hebrew with a New Introduction by Jacob Neusner. 2 vols. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002. Babylonian Talmud: Soncino edition. I. Epstein, general editor. 35 vols. 1935–1952, repr. in 18 vols., London, 1961. Palestinian Talmud (also called the Jerusalem Talmud): Jacob Neusner, Talmud Yerushalmi. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982–1999. Available on CD, Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2008. Citations place Neusner’s text divisions in brackets. Midrash Rabbah: London: Soncino Press, 1939. Avot of Rabbi Nathan A: The Fathers according to Rabbi Nathan (version A). Translated from the Hebrew by Judah Goldin. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955. Avot of Rabbi Nathan B: The Fathers according to Rabbi Nathan (version B). Translation and commentary by Anthony J. Saldarini. Leiden: Brill, 1975. Pesikta of Rab Kahana: Translated by William G. Braude and Israel J. Kapstein. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1975. Midrash Tanhuma (Buber Recension): John T. Townsend, Midrash Tanhuma: Translated into English with Introduction, Indices, and Brief Notes (S. Buber Recension). 2 vol. Hoboken, N.J.: Ktav, 1989, 1997. Sifre: Sifre: A Tannaitic Commentary on the Book of Deuteronomy. Translated from the Hebrew with introduction and notes by Reuven Hammer. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986.

4. Christian Texts New Testament Apocrypha: Wilhelm Schneemelcher. New Testament Apocrypha. 2 vols. English translation by A. J. B. Higgins et al. Edited by R. McL. Wilson. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1991–1992. Apostolic Fathers: The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. Updated edition, edited and revised by Michael W. Holmes. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1999; The Apostolic Fathers. Edited and translated by Bart D. Ehrman. 2 vols. LCL 2003. Church Fathers: ANF and NPNF cited above. In addition, many older translations of church fathers and associated works not readily available may be retrieved from the excellent and expanding collection of Roger Pearse at http://www.tertullian.org/fathers/.

5. Loeb Classical Library Ammianus Marcellinus. Roman History. Translated by John C. Rolfe. 3 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1940–1952. Appian. Roman History. Translated by Horace White. 4 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1912–1913. Aristotle. Meteorologica. Translated by H. D. P. Lee. Vol. 7 of 23 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1952. Arrian. History of Alexander. Translated by P. A. Brunt. 2 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1976–1983. Athenaeus of Naucratis. The Deipnosophists (Learned Banqueters). Translated by C. B. Gulick. 7 vols. 1927. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, Also a new translation: The Learned Banqueters. Edited and translated by S. Douglas Olson. 2006.

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Cicero. Translated by H. Caplan et al. 28 vols. LCL, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1958–. Dio Cassius. Roman History. Translated by E. Cary, on the basis of the version of H. B. Foster. 9 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1914–1927. Diodorus Siculus. Library of History. Translated by C. H. Oldfather et al. 12 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1933–1967. Diogenes Laertius. Lives of Eminent Philosophers. Translated by R. D. Hicks. 2 vols. Rev. ed. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1938. Eusebius. Ecclesiastical History. Translated by J. E. L. Oulton. 2 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1932. Fronto. The Correspondence of Marcus Cornelius Fronto with Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Lucius Verus, Antoninus Pius, and Various Friends. Edited and translated by C. R. Haines. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1962. Herodotus. History. Translated by A. D. Godley. 4 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1921–1924. Historia Augusta. Scriptores Historiae Augustae. Translated by D. Magie. 3 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1921–1932. Horace. Satires, Epistles, the Art of Poetry. Volume 2. Translated by H. Rushton Fairclough. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1929. Josephus. Jewish War, Jewish Antiquities, Life, Against Apion. Translated by H. St. J. Thackeray et al. 10 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1926–1965. Julian. Orations, Letters, Epigrams, Against the Galileans. Translated W. C. Wright. 3 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1913–1923. Libanius. Autobiography and Selected Letters. Edited and translated by A. F. Norman. 2 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1992. Marcus Aurelius. Meditations. Translated by C. R. Haines. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1930. Pausanias. Description of Greece. Translated by W. H. S. Jones. 5 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1918–1939. Philo of Alexandria. Translated by F. H. Colson et al. 10 vols., supplements 1 & 2. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1929–1962. Plutarch. Parallel Lives. Translated by B. Perrin. 11 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1914–1926. Polybius. The Histories. Translated by W. R. Paton. 6 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1922–1927. Procopius. History of the Wars. Secret History (Anecdota). Buildings. Translated by H. B. Dewing. 7 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1953–1962. Strabo. Geography. Translated by H. L. Jones. 8 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1949–1954. Suetonius. Lives of the Caesars. Translated by J. C. Rolfe. 2 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1979. Tacitus. The Histories and the Annals. Translated by C. H. Moore and J. Jackson. 5 vols. LCL. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1967–1970.

6. Other Ancient Sources. These are listed by order of the ancient author or the ancient title. The Acts of the Christian Martyrs, introduction, texts and translations by Herbert A. Musurillo. Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1972. The Acts of the Pagan Martyrs. Acta Alexandrinorum. Edited with commentary by Herbert A. Musurillo. Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1954.

798 Vines Intertwined Al-Tabari. The History of al-Tabar. Albany: State University of New York, 1985–. Antiochus Strategos. The Capture of Jerusalem by the Persians in 614; translated by F. C. Conybeare, English Historical Review 25 (1910), 502–17. Bardaisan. Book of the Laws of Countries: Dialogue on Fate of Bardaisan of Edessa by H. J. W. Drijvers. Assen: Van Gorcum, 1965. The original Syriac text was translated into Dutch by H. J. W. Drijvers, 1964. English version of Dutch translation by Mrs. G. E. van BaarenPape. Reprint, Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias Press, 2006. Book of the Himyarites. Axel Möberg, ed. Skrifter Kungliga Humanistika Vetenskapssamfundet i Lund, vol 7. Lund, Sweden: Gleerup, 1924. Chronicon Paschal 286–628 AD. Translated with notes and introduction by Michael Whitby and Mary Whitby. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press. Chronique de Se’ert. Histoire nestorienne: (Chronique de Se’ert) by Addai Scher; Robert Griveau. Turnhout, Belgique: Brepols, 2003. Epiphanius. The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis, 2 vols. Translated by Frank Williams. Leiden: Brill, 1987. Eusebius. The Onomasticon: Palestine in the Fourth Century A.D. Translated by G. S. P. Freeman-Grenville. Indexed by Rupert L. Chapman. Edited and introduced by Joan E. Taylor. Jerusalem: Carta, 2003. . Proof of the Gospel 1.11.8. Translated by W. J. Ferrar (1920). Reprint, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1981. Evagrius Scholasticus. The Ecclesiastical History of Evagrius Scholasticus; translated with an introduction and notes by Michael Whitby. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2000. Faustos. The Epic Histories: Attributed to P’awstos Buzand (Buzandaran Patmut’iwnk’). Harvard Armenian Texts and Studies 8. Translation and commentary by Nina G. Garsoian. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1989. Ibn Hisham. The Life of Muhammad. A translation of Ishaq’s Sîrat rasûl Allâh with introduction and notes by A. Guillaume. London: Oxford University Press, 1955. John Chrysostom. Discourses against Judaizing Christians, Saint John Chrysostom. Translated by Paul W. Harkins. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1979. John of Nikiu. John, Bishop of Nikiu: Chronicle. Translation by R. H. Charles. London: Williams & Norgate, 1916. Jordanes. The Gothic History of Jordanes [a.k.a. Getica] (ca. 551). In English with an introduction and a commentary by Charles Christopher Mierow. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1915. Lucian. Selected Satires of Lucian. Edited and translated by L. Casson. Chicago: Aldine, 1962. Macrobius. The Saturnalia. Translated with an introduction and notes by Percival Vaughan Davies. New York: Columbia University Press, 1969. Malalas, John. The Chronicle of John Malalas: A Translation by Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys, and Roger Scott. Melbourne: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies: Sydney, University of Sydney, 1986. Marcus Minucius Felix. The Octavius of Marcus Minucius Felix. Ancient Christian Writers 39. Translated and annotated by G. W. Clarke. New York: Newman Press, 1974. Moses Khorenats‘i. History of the Armenians. Translation and commentary on the literary sources by Robert W. Thomson. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1978. Nestorius. The Bazaar of Heracleides. Reprint, Eugene, Ore.: Wipf and Stock, 2002. Orosius. The Seven Books of History against the Pagans. Translated by Roy J. Deferrari. Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1981. Panegyrici Latini. In Praise of Later Roman Emperors: The Panegyrici Latini. Introduction, translation, and historical commentary, with the Latin text of R. A. B. Mynors by C. E. V. Nixon and Barbara Saylor Rodgers. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994. Philostorigus. Philostorgius: Church History. Translated with an introduction and notes by Philip R. Amidon. Atlanta: SBL, 2007.

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Salvian of Marseilles (ca. 400–480). De gubernatione Dei. On the Government of God: A Treatise Wherein Are Shown by Argument and by Examples Drawn from the Abandoned Society of the Times the Ways of God toward His Creatures. Translated into English by Eva M. Sanford. Reprint, New York: Octagon Books, 1966. Synodicon Orientale. Synodicon Orientale ou Recueil de Synodes Nestoriens. Publié, traduit et annoté par J. B. Chabot. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1902. Theophanes. The Chronicle of Theophanes Confessor: Byzantine and Near Eastern History, AD 284–813. Translated with introduction and commentary by Cyril Mango and Roger Scott with the assistance of Geoffrey Greatrex. Oxford: Clarendon, 1997. Theophylact Simocatta. The History of Theophylact Simocatta: An English Translation with Introduction and Notes by Michael and Mary Whitby. Oxford: Clarendon, 1986. Zosimus. New History / Zosimus: A Translation with Commentary. Translated by Ronald T. Ridley. Sydney: Australian Association for Byzantine Studies: Sydney, University of Sydney, 1982.

B. Selected Secondary Literature The books listed here are mostly in print or reprinted and published within the last 50 years. Some older volumes and articles cited but omitted here are given full reference in the notes. Adam, James. The Religious Teachers of Greece. Aberdeen University Studies 32. Aberdeen: Aberdeen University, 1908, repr. n. p.: Reference Book Publishers, 1965. Ahmad, Barakat. Muhammad and the Jews: A Reexamination. New Delhi: Vikas, 1979. Alexander, Philip S. “The Rabbis and Messianism.” Pages 227–44 in Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity. Edited by M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget. London: T&T Clark, 2007. Anderson, Robert T., and Terry Giles. The Keepers: An Introduction to the History and Culture of the Samaritans. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002. Attridge, Harold W., and Gohei Hata, eds. Eusebius, Christianity, and Judaism. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1992. Avi-Yonah, Michael. The Holy Land: A Historical Geography from the Persian to the Arab Conquest (536 B.C. to A.D. 640). Jerusalem: Carta, 2002. . The Jews under Roman and Byzantine Rule: A Political History of Palestine from the Bar Kokhba War to the Arab Conquest. New York: Schocken, 1984. Bacchiocchi, Samuele. From Sabbath to Sunday: A Historical Investigation of the Rise of Sunday Observance in Early Christianity. Rome: Pontifical Gregorian University, 1977. Barclay, John M. G. Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996. Baron, S. Social and Religious History of the Jews, Ancient Times. 2d ed. Vols. 1–3. New York: Columbia University Press, 1952. Barrett, C. K. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles. 2 vols. Edinburgh: T&T Clark International, 1998, 2004. Barsoum, Ignatius Aphram. The Scattered Pearls: A History of Syriac Literature and Sciences. Translated and edited by Matti Moosa. Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias Press, 2003. Bauckham, Richard J. “James and the Jerusalem Community.” Pages 55–95 in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries. Edited by Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007. . Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospel as Eyewitness Testimony. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2006.

800 Vines Intertwined . “Jews and Christians in the Land of Israel at the Time of the Bar Kochba War, with Special Reference to the Apocalypse of Peter.” Pages 228–38 in Tolerance and Intolerance in Early Judaism and Christianity. Edited by C. N. Stanton and G. G. Strousma. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. . “The Origin of the Ebionites.” Pages 162–81 in The Image of the Judaeo-Christians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature. Edited by P. J. Thompson and D. Lambers-Petry. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. . “Peter, James and the Gentiles.” Pages 91–142 in The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul: Tensions in Early Christianity. Edited by B. Chilton and C. A. Evans. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Baum, Wilhelm, and Dietmar W. Winkler. The Church of the East: A Concise History. London: Routledge-Curzon, 2003. Baumgarten, A. I. “The Politics of Reconciliation: The Education of Judah the Prince.” Pages 213–25 in Jewish and Christian Self-Definition, Vol. 2. Edited by E. P. Sanders. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980. Becker, Adam H., and Annette Yoshiko Reed, eds. “Beyond Spatial and Temporal Limes.” Pages 373–92 in The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Edited by Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. . The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. Bellinger, A. R., et al., eds. The Excavations at Dura-Europos. Final Report VIII, Part I. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956. Ben-Dov, Meir. Historical Atlas of Jerusalem. Translated by David Louvish. New York: Continuum, 2002. Berchman, Robert M. Porphyry against the Christians. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Betz, Hans D., ed. The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation Including the Demotic Spells. 2d ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992. Binder, Donald D. Into the Temple Courts: The Place of the Synagogue in the Second Temple Period. Atlanta: SBL, 1999. Birnbaum, Ellen. The Place of Judaism in Philo’s Thought: Israel, Jews, Proselytes. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996. Blenkinsopp, Joseph. Judaism: the First Phase. The Place of Ezra and Nehemiah in the Origins of Judaism. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2009. Boccaccini, Gabriele. Middle Judaism: Jewish Thought, 300 B.C.E. to 200 C.E. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. Bockmuehl, Markus. Jewish Law in Gentile Churches: Halakhah and the Beginning of Christian Public Ethics. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2003. Bockmuehl, Markus, and James Carleton Paget, eds. Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity. London: T&T Clark, 2007. Bokser, Baruch M. The Origins of the Seder: The Passover Rite and Early Rabbinic Judaism. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984. . “Todos and Rabbinic Authority in Rome.” Pages 117–30 in New Perspectives on Ancient Judaism. Vol. 1. Edited by J. Neusner et al. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 1987. Bournoutian, George A. A History of the Armenian People. Vol. 1, Pre-History to 1500 A.D. Costa Mesa, Calif.: Mazda Publishers, 1995. Bowersock, Glen W. “The Greek Moses.” Pages 31–48 in Religious and Ethnic Communities in Later Roman Palestine. Edited by Hayim Lapin. Bethesda, Md.: University Press of Maryland, 1998. Bowersock, Glen W., Peter Robert Lamont Brown, and Oleg Grabar, eds. Late Antiquity: A Guide to the Postclassical World. Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999.

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Boyarin, Daniel. Border Lines: The Partition of Judaeo-Christianity. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004. Bradbury, Scott. Severus of Minorca: Letter on the Conversion of the Jews. New York: Oxford University Press, 1996. Bradshaw, Paul F., and Lawrence A. Hoffman, eds. Passover and Easter: A Symbolic Structuring of Sacred Seasons. Two Liturgical Traditions 6. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1999. . Passover and Easter: Origin and History to Modern Times. Two Liturgical Traditions 5. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1999. Briant, Pierre. From Cyrus to Alexander: History of the Persian Empire. Translated by Peter T. Daniels. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2002. Brock, Sebastian, and Susan Ashbrook Harvey. Holy Women of the Syrian Orient. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987. Brown, Peter Robert Lamont. Augustine of Hippo: A Biography. New ed., with an epilogue. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000. Brown, Raymond E. The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Updated edition. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999. Burns, Thomas S. Rome and the Barbarians: 100 B.C. to A.D. 400. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2003. Burtchaell, James Tunstead. From Synagogue to Church: Public Services and Offices in the Earliest Christian Communities. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Carriker, A. J. The Library of Eusebius of Caesarea. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Carson, D. A., ed. From Sabbath to Lord’s Day: A Biblical, Historical, and Theological Investigation. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1982. Chadwick, Henry. The Church in Ancient Society: From Galilee to Gregory the Great. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. . Origen: Contra Celsum. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980. Chancey, Mark. The Myth of a Gentile Galilee. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Chilton, Bruce D., and Jacob Neusner. Classical Christianity and Rabbinic Judaism: Comparing Theologies. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Academic, 2004. Christie, Neil. The Lombards: The Ancient Longobards. Oxford: Blackwell, 1995. Cohen, Shaye J. D. The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999. . From the Maccabees to the Mishnah. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987. . “Judaism without Circumcision and ‘Judaism’ without ‘Circumcision’ in Ignatius.” HTR 95/4 (2002): 395–415. . “The Significance of Yavneh: Pharisees, Rabbis, and the End of Jewish Sectarianism.” HUCA 55 (1984): 27–53. Coogan, Michael David. West Semitic Personal Names in the Murašû Documents. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press for Harvard Semitic Museum, 1976. Cook, J. M. The Persians. London: The Folio Society, 2002. Repr., The Persian Empire. London: J. M. Dent, 1983. Cowley, Arthur Ernest. Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C., Edited, with Translation and Notes. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1923. Crossan, John Dominic. The Birth of Christianity: Discovering What Happened in the Years Immediately After the Execution of Jesus. San Francisco: Harper, 1998. Daube, David. New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism. Repr. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1994. Davies, W. D., and Dale C. Allison. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. 3 vols. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988–1997, 2004. De Lange, N. R. M. Origen and the Jews: Studies in Jewish-Christian Relations in ThirdCentury Palestine. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976.

802 Vines Intertwined De Mieroop, Marc Van. History of the Ancient Near East, ca. 3000–323 B.C. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2004. Donaldson, Terence L. Judaism and the Gentiles: Jewish Patterns of Universalism (to 135 C.E.). Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press, 2007. Doukhan, Jacques B. Israel and the Church: Two Voices for the Same God. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2002. Downey, Glanville. A History of Antioch in Syria from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961. Drijvers, Jan Willem. Helena Augusta: The Mother of Constantine the Great and the Legend of Her Finding of the True Cross. Leiden: Brill, 1992. Dunderberg, Ismo O. Beyond Gnosticism: Myth, Lifestyle, and Society in the School of Valentinus. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. Dungan, David L. Constantine’s Bible: Politics and the Making of the New Testament (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007). Dunn, James D. G. Jesus Remembered: Christianity in the Making. Vol. 1. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2003. , ed. The Parting of the Ways A.D. 70–135. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1989. Edwards, Douglas R. Religion and Power: Pagans, Jews, and Christians in the Greek East. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996. Ehrman, B. D., ed. After the New Testament. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. Eisenbaum, Pamela. Paul Was Not a Christian: The Original Message of a Misunderstood Apostle. New York: HarperCollins, 2009. Ekenberg, Anders. “Evidence for Jewish Believers in ‘Church Orders’ and Liturgical Texts.” Pages 649–57 in Jewish Believers in Jesus: The Early Centuries. Edited by Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2007. Evans, J. A. S. The Age of Justinian: The Circumstances of Imperial Power. London: Routledge, 1996. Farmer, William R., ed. Anti-Judaism and the Gospels. Harrisburg, Penn.: Trinity Press International, 1999. Feldman, Louis. Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World: Attitudes and Interactions from Alexander to Justinian. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993. . Josephus’s Interpretation of the Bible. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998. Ferguson, Everett F. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1993. , ed. Early Christianity and Judaism. New York: Garland, 1993. Finkelstein, Israel, and Neil Asher Silberman. The Bible Unearthed: Archaeology’s New Vision of Ancient Israel and the Origin of Its Sacred Texts. New York: Touchstone, 2002. Fitzmyer, Joseph A. Essays on the Semitic Background of the New Testament. Missoula, Mont.: SBL, 1974. .“Jewish Christianity in Acts in Light of the Qumran Scrolls.” Pages 233–57 in Studies in Luke-Acts. Essays Presented in Honor of Paul Schubert. Edited by L. E. Keck and J. L. Martyn. Nashville: Abingdon, 1968. . The One Who Is to Come. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2007. Fletcher, Richard A. The Barbarian Conversion: From Paganism to Christianity. New York: Henry Holt, 1998. Fonrobert, Charlotte Elisheva. “The Didascalia Apostolorum: A Mishnah for the Disciples of Jesus.” JECS 9 (2001): 483–509. Fortesque, Adrian. Lesser Eastern Churches. London: Catholic Truth Society, 1913. Fox, Robin Lane. Alexander the Great. New York: Dial Press, 1974. Fredriksen, Paula. Augustine and the Jews: A Christian Defense of Jews and Judaism. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 2008.

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. “Divine Justice and Human Freedom: Augustine on Jews and Judaism 392–398.” Pages 29–54 in From Witness to Witchcraft: Jews and Judaism in Medieval Christian Thought. Edited by Jeremy Cohen. Weisbaden: Herzog, 1997. . “What Parting of the Ways?” Pages 35–64 in The Ways That Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Edited by Adam H. Becker and Annette Yoshiko Reed. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. Frend, W. H. C. Martyrdom and Persecution in the Early Church: A Study of a Conflict from the Maccabees to Donatus. Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor, 1967. . The Rise of the Monophysite Movement: Chapters in the History of the Church in the Fifth and Sixth Centuries. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972. Frey, Jean B. Corpus Inscriptionum Judaicarum. 2 vols. Rome: Pontificio Instituto di archeologia cristiana, 1936–1952. Gaddis, Michael. There Is No Crime for Those Who Have Christ: Religious Violence in the Christian Roman Empire. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005. Gager, John G. Reinventing Paul. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. Gera, Dov. Judaea and Mediterranean Politics 219 to 161 B.C.E. Leiden: Brill, 1998. Gil, Moshe. A History of Palestine, 634–1099. Translated by Ethel Broido. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Ginzberg, Louis. Legends of the Jews. 7 vols in 1. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1961. Goldstein, Jonathan. 1 Maccabees: A New Translation, with Introduction and Commentary. AB 41. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976. . 2 Maccabees. AB 41A. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1983. Goodblatt, David M. Elements of Ancient Jewish Nationalism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. . The Monarchic Principle: Studies in Jewish Self-Government in Antiquity. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994. . Rabbinic Instruction in Sasanian Babylonia. Leiden: Brill, 1975. Goodman, Martin. “Messianism and Politics in the Land of Israel.” Pages 149–57 in Redemption and Resistance: Messianic Hopes of Jews and Christians in Antiquity. Edited by M. Bockmuehl and J. C. Paget. London: T&T Clark, 2007. Goodman, Martin M. Mission and Conversion: Proselytizing in the Religious History of the Roman Empire. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994. Goshen-Gottstein, Alon. The Sinner and the Amnesiac: The Rabbinic Invention of Elisha ben Abuya and Eleazar ben Arach. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2000. Grabbe, Lester. Etymology in Early Jewish Interpretation: The Hebrew Names in Philo. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988. . Ezra-Nehemiah. London: Routledge, 1998. Grant, Michael. A Guide to the Ancient World: A Dictionary of Classical Place Names. New York: Barnes & Noble Books, 1997. Grant, Robert. Gnosticism and Early Christianity. Rev. ed. New York: Harper & Row, 1966. Green, Peter. Alexander to Actium: The Historical Evolution of the Hellenistic Age. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990. Guttmann, Alexander. Rabbinic Judaism in the Making: A Chapter in the History of the Halakhah from Ezra to Judah I. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1970. . Studies in Rabbinic Judaism. New York: Ktav, 1976. Haas, Christopher. Alexandria in Late Antiquity: Topography and Social Conflict. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1997. Hadas, Moses. Aristeas to Philocrates. New York: Harper Brothers, 1951. Hagner, Donald A. Matthew. WBC 33A, 33B. Dallas: Word, 1993. Hall, Stuart G. “Melito in the Light of the Passover Haggadah.” JTS n.s. 22 (1971): 29–46. Hallo, W. W., and K. L. Younger, eds. Context of Scripture. 3 vols. Leiden: Brill, 2000.

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Index Only the names of persons considered significant to this history are included. Most persons are listed by their popular rather than official names, as they occur in this history; for complete official names, the appropriate dictionaries and encyclopedias may be consulted. Jewish believers of the Apostolic age, especially Paul, Peter, and James, are listed under Jewish views where applicable, unless given a distinct entry. Aba, Mar, catholicos of Persia, 626–28, 641 Abaye, leader of Pumbedita, 472, 490, 508–9, 582 Abba bar Abba, father of Mar Samuel, 362, 378 Abbahu of Caesarea, 400, 417, 427–29 Abel, son of Adam and Eve, 181, 418, 430, 753n335 Abercius Marcellus, bishop of Hierapolis in Phrygia, 367, 763n110 Abgar V, king of Adiabene, 367, 789n169 Abgar VII, king of Adiabene, 254–55 Abgar VIII, king of Adiabene, 367–68, 389 abortion, 174, 288, 303 Abraha, king of Himyar, 612, 634, 660, 681–82, 787n118 Abraham, biblical patriarch, 2, 11, 29, 44, 49, 72–73, 80, 82–83, 91, 117, 162, 164–65, 167, 181, 227, 280, 295, 309–10, 312–14, 320, 354, 365, 418–20, 426, 429–30, 432, 437–38, 462, 465, 467, 549, 553, 557, 564, 576, 645, 655, 657, 670–71, 676–77, 689–91, 730n95, 732n153, 782n326 Adam, biblical first man, 11, 79, 82, 162, 279–80, 290, 299, 365, 376, 418, 424, 483, 520, 562, 660, 675–76, 688, 753n335 Addai, legendary missionary to Edessa, 367–68, 789n169 Aelia Capitolina (Jerusalem), 271–73, 276, 278, 356, 389, 439, 460–61, 751n284 Aetius, Roman minister under Valentinian III, 529, 531, 587

Africa, Christians of, 340, 342, 352, 388, 397, 407–10, 453–54, 464–65, 516, 519, 604, 613, 664, 690 Africa, Jews of, 93, 174, 217, 254, 256, 440, 525, 563, 657, 665–66, 690 Africa, Roman province, 112, 136–37, 214, 239, 242, 393, 493, 512, 519, 529–30, 533, 588, 616, 618–19, 630, 648, 652 Agapius of Mendibj, 643 Agrippa, Vipsanius, friend of Augustus, 139, 141, 143, 146–47, 153, 271 Agrippa I, son of Aristobulus Herod, 191, 210–12, 214–16, 220–22, 291, 356, 744n75, 744n77 Agrippa II, son of Agrippa I, 4, 210, 222–25, 233–36, 238, 240, 251, 256, 264, 272, 291, 356, 749n228 Aha (various rabbis), 488, 552, 580, 686 Aha bar Jacob, head of Sura academy, 472 Aha of Difti, 545, 597 Ahai, son of R. Josiah, 338, 360, 362, 762n100 Ahura Mazda, supreme god of Persian religion, 35, 374–75, 377, 468 Akak, Mar, catholicos of Persia, 594 Akedah (binding of Isaac), 667, 676–77 Akiba b. Joseph, 4–5, 261, 264–65, 272, 274, 276–83, 288, 292,–93, 326, 335–38, 356, 360, 425, 429, 433, 520, 583, 663, 685, 688, 752n288, 753n325, 768n285 Akko (Ptolemais, modern Acco), 70, 119, 125, 650 Alans, barbarians, 372, 493, 511–12

814 Vines Intertwined Alaric, leader of Visigoths, 510–12, 523, 533 Albinus, Clodius, general under Septimius Severus, 351 Albinus, Procurator of Judaea, 234–35 Alcimus, high priest, 110, 114, 116 Alemanni, confederation of German tribes, 355, 371, 475, 602 Alexander, bishop of Alexandria, 458–59, 466 Alexander, son of Aristobulus II, 129, 131, 134 Alexander, son of Miriamme and Herod, 142, 144, 152, 155 Alexander IV, son of Roxane and Alexander, 63–65 Alexander Jannaeus. See Jannaeus Alexander Lysimacus the Alabarch, brother of Philo, 191, 218, 223 Alexander “the Great” of Macedonia, 3, 54–68, 70, 72, 77, 87, 89–90, 121–22, 129, 147, 163, 217, 219, 271, 300, 373, 455, 476, 548, 630 Alexandra, Hasmonean mother of Miriamme, 139–40, 142 Alexandra Salome. See Salome Alexandra Alexandria, Christians of, 224, 266, 268, 285, 327, 347–48, 362–64, 368, 389–90, 409, 458–59, 466, 479, 481, 488, 498, 500, 502, 507–8, 514, 517–18, 525–27, 535–39, 548, 569, 590–91, 608, 623–26, 656, 665, 680 Alexandria, Egypt, 59, 64, 66, 67, 76, 104, 112–14, 134–35, 140, 254, 271, 353, 480, 488, 648, 652, 740n181 Alexandria, Jews of, 72–73, 75, 91, 106, 122, 152, 157, 160, 165, 175, 178, 180, 190–92, 210, 217–24, 237, 254–56, 315, 327, 338, 440, 488, 507–8, 525–27, 569, 666, 680, 689 altar of Elephantiné, 51–53 altar of Jerusalem temple, 39–40, 43, 107, 109, 120, 150 Ambrose, 461, 497, 501–2, 507, 516, 519, 551–52, 565–66, 568 Amel-Marduk (Evil-Merodach), king of Babylon, 31 Amemar II, 528 Amidah (Eighteen Benedictions, Shemoneh Esreh), 183, 264, 292, 324, 672–73, 685 Ammianus Marcellinus, Hellene historian, 477, 488–89, 493, 496 Amon, king of Judah, 15, 17 Amoraim, 359, 609

amphitheater, 143, 146, 215, 222, 237, 613 amulets, 560, 581, 583, 668. See also tefillin Ananus I son of Sethi, head of high priestly family, 156, 215, 234, 248 Ananus II son of Ananus, high priest, 234, 237–39 Anastasius, Byzantine emperor, 595, 599–604, 608, 615, 617 Anatolia. See Asia Minor angels and archangels, 33, 39, 86–89, 101, 158–59, 161–64, 170, 176, 216, 268, 287, 296, 298, 310, 359, 381, 419, 423–25, 462, 518, 570, 574, 582, 584, 630, 660, 688, 691, 732n168, 782n321. See also Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Metatron Anileus, Babylonian Jewish rebel/prince, 189–90, 338 annona, tax system for supplying cities and troops, 385–86 Anthony, saint, 404–5, 465, 496, 498, 516 Antigonus I son of Hasmonean John Hyrcanus, 123, 125 Antigonus II son of Aristobulus II, 129, 134, 137–39, 146–47 Antigonus One-Eye, one of the Diadochi, 63–66 Antioch, Christians of, 211, 224, 227–29, 244, 266, 268, 285, 305–6, 310–11, 315–21, 388, 409–10, 458, 478, 481, 496, 498–500, 502–4, 506–8, 514–15, 517–19, 535–41, 558–61, 583, 591, 593, 608, 623–24, 641–43, 666, 680, 746n117, 757n443 Antioch, Jews of, 91, 174, 222, 237, 338, 486–87, 502–4, 506–8, 558–61, 583, 596, 643, 680, 683 Antioch of Syria, 66, 69–70, 102–5, 109–10, 118–20, 134, 138, 142, 146, 151, 238, 254, 272, 333, 353, 374, 476, 502–4, 599, 619–20, 633–34, 648, 784n15 Antiochus I Soter, 68–69 Antiochus II Theos, 69 Antiochus III the Great, 70–71, 74–75, 99–101 Antiochus IV Epiphanes, 102–6, 108–10, 118, 123, 163, 220, 273, 406 Antiochus V Eupator, 109–10 Antiochus VII Euergetes, 121–22 Antiochus IX Cyzicenus, 123 Antiochus of Antioch, Jewish apostate, 317 Antipas, Herod, 152–55, 190–91, 193–94, 196, 199, 211–12, 337 Antipater, viceroy of Macedonia, 58, 63–64 Antipater III, eldest son of Herod, 152–53

Antipater of Idumaea, father of Herod, 129–30, 134–37, 175 Antonia fortress, 192, 211, 223, 236, 241 Antoninus, Aurelius. See Caracalla, 351–53 Antoninus of rabbinic legend, 357–58, 377, 383, 429, 550 Antoninus Pius, Roman emperor, 331–32, 334, 336, 340, 345, 352 Apamea, 101, 237, 508, 634, 648 Aphrahat, Persian sage, 483–84, 555–58, 608, 780n262 Apion, Greco-Egyptian, 219–21, 243, 467, 476, 745n93 apocalyptic thought, 45, 86–89, 104, 129, 163, 176, 237, 276, 324–25, 346, 348–49, 362, 572, 649, 688, 690 Apollinarius the Younger, founder of Apollinarianism, 499, 535 Apollo, Hellene god, 79, 103, 126, 143, 146, 155, 254, 398, 411 Apollonius, governor of Syria, 101–2, 105, 108 Apollonius of Tyana, miracle worker, 354–55, 409 apostates and apostasy among Christians, 312–13, 388, 435, 453, 501, 504, 593, 657 apostates and apostasy among Jews, 108, 175, 182, 196, 265, 283, 288, 313, 315, 324–25, 435, 576–77 apostles: Christian, 207, 226, 267, 269, 284, 303, 305–8, 310, 312, 316, 323, 346–47, 349, 404, 413, 437–38, 442, 458, 463, 482, 535, 541, 561, 746n122 apostles: Jewish, 358, 361, 524 Appian, historian, 256 Aquila, Jewish proselyte translator, 272, 278–79, 390, 574, 630, 663 Aquila of Pontus, friend of Paul, 225, 245, 307 Arabia, 32–33, 46, 63, 91, 101, 119, 141, 225, 253, 389, 464, 544, 599, 625, 634, 637, 650, 655, 657, 666, 690 Arabia, Christians of, 206, 409, 606, 667 Arabia, Jews of, 206, 334, 369, 610–11, 658, 660, 664–65, 667, 689 Aramaic language, 49–50, 94, 135, 162, 178, 206, 220, 225, 257, 274, 289, 356, 367, 372, 402, 404, 412, 433, 444, 599, 609. See also Hebrew, Syriac Arbogast, German imperial minister, 495 Arcadius, emperor of the East, 494–95, 510–13, 518, 522–24, 530, 603, 643 Archelaus, son of Herod, 152–56, 180, 198 Ardashir, first Sasanian shah, 355, 373–79, 381, 478

Index 815 Aretas III, king of Nabataea, 129–30 Aretas IV, king of Nabataea, 155, 191, 193, 208 Arians and Arianism, 427, 459, 466, 474, 478–82, 486, 492, 494–95, 497–501, 504–6, 512–13, 517, 519, 535, 559, 567, 587, 592, 595, 599, 601–2, 605–6, 609, 616–17, 636, 639, 643, 664, 678–79 Aristeas, Hellenistic Jewish author, 72, 95, 106, 160–61, 174, 176, 467 Aristobulus, Jewish philosopher, 106, 161, 364, 367 Aristobulus I, son of John Hyrcanus, 123, 125 Aristobulus II, son of Jannaeus and Salome, 128–31, 134, 137, 168, 751n285 Aristobulus III, Miriamme’s brother, 140 Aristobulus IV, son of Miriamme and Herod, 142, 144, 152, 191 Aristotle, 42, 56, 76–77, 90 Arius, founder of Arianism, 458–59, 465–66 Ark of the Covenant, 27, 151, 572 Armenia, 127–28, 139–40, 187, 189, 231, 253–54, 271, 332, 371, 373–74, 392–93, 399, 477, 493, 495–96, 513, 532, 589–90, 599–600, 603, 619–20, 633, 635, 637, 641, 647, 654, 732n149, 772n25 Armenia, Christians of, 408, 467–68, 477, 496, 505, 520–21, 532, 539, 590, 625–26, 633, 641, 666 Armenia, Jews of, 477, 508 Armenian language, 521 Arnobius, Christian apologist, 407, 409, 533 Arrian, historian of Alexander the Great, 59, 63–64 Artabanus II, Parthian king, 187, 189–90, 211 Artabanus V, last Parthian king, 355, 373, 377 Artaxerxes I, king of Persia, 43–47, 49, 100, 527 Artaxerxes II Mnemon, king of Persia, 54–55 Artaxerxes III Ochos, king of Persia, 56–57 asceticism, 336, 349–50, 355, 363, 376, 389, 404–5, 465, 503, 505, 518, 539, 567–68, 622, 639, 673–74. See also fasting Asherah, goddess consort of El, 17, 20, 688 Ashi, leading Babylonian sage, 509, 527–28, 545 Asia Minor, Christians of, 208–9, 226, 228, 244–47, 266, 284, 311, 320, 345, 347–49,

816 Vines Intertwined 367, 408, 432, 442–43, 458, 465, 480, 481, 498, 517, 539, 595, 616, 625–26 Asia Minor, Jews of, 135, 146, 159, 174, 206, 208–9, 216, 226, 228, 244–47, 335–37, 340, 432, 458, 595, 657 Asia Minor (also Anatolia), 14, 32, 43, 63–66, 69–70, 101, 105, 113, 118, 129, 134, 137–38, 157, 187, 214, 216, 371–72, 374, 454, 474, 513, 587, 589, 599, 616, 619, 647, 651–54, 661 Asineus, Babylonian Jewish rebel/prince, 189–90, 338 Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, 405, 459, 466, 479, 481, 500, 517–18, 566, 676 Athens, 42, 45, 52, 55–57, 62, 77, 146, 149, 333, 475, 499, 502, 530, 614, 627, 636–37 Athens, Christians of, 226, 268, 284, 341, 363–64, 390, 398 Athens, Jews of, 226, 398 atonement, 260, 414, 437–38, 459, 671, 675 Attila the Hun, 530–32, 537 Augustine, bishop of Canterbury, 639, 665 Augustine, bishop of Hippo, 311, 407, 440, 512, 514–16, 519–20, 525, 533, 537, 547, 551, 563–66, 687, 700, 770n323, 777n156, 781n287 Augustus, Caesar, 136–44, 146–47, 151–57, 171–72, 187–88, 210–11, 217, 236, 252, 258, 271, 291, 300, 331, 345–46, 396, 445, 475, 501, 550, 589, 693, 761n60. See also Octavian Aurelian, Roman emperor, 371–72, 398, 674 Avars, Turkic-speaking people, 635–36, 647, 652–54 Azazel, archdemon, 89, 170 Babowai, catholicos of Persia, 593–94 Bacchides, Syrian general who defeated Judas Maccabeus, 110–11, 116 Bahram I, Sasanian king, 376 Bahram II, Sasanian king, 376, 399 Bahram IV, Sasanian king, 496, 513 Bahram V, Sasanian king, 527, 532, 541, 545 Bahram Chobin, usurper, 635, 637, 642, 645–46 Balaam, biblical seer, 579–80, 768n278 Balas, usurper against Demetrius I, 118–19, 121 Balash, Sasanian king, 590, 594 Balkans (Illyricum, Pannonia, Moesia), 42, 143, 187, 392, 453, 465, 473, 475, 494, 498, 510, 530, 587–88, 600, 604, 613, 635–36, 652, 665. See also Danube

balsam, 90, 139, 144, 272, 335, 386 baptism, 183, 193, 200, 216, 226–27, 245, 285, 295, 303, 348, 366, 380, 413, 435, 437–39, 458, 463, 484, 486, 497, 516, 520, 530, 601, 645, 670, 673–74, 676, 691 baptism, forced, 601, 630, 643–44, 657, 679–81, 683–84 baptism, Jewish ritual immersion (mikveh), 147, 193, 200, 216, 226–27, 295, 303, 437–39, 670, 741n13 Bar Kokhba (Simon Bar Kosiba), leader of revolt, 273–77, 282, 292–93, 298, 429, 685 Bar Kokhba revolt, effects of, 293, 310, 334, 336–37, 340, 416–17, 439, 504, 578, 699–700 barbarians, 54, 57, 68, 251, 271, 332, 345, 353, 371, 392, 445, 487, 492–94, 501, 507, 510–11, 513, 530, 539, 547, 587–89, 592–93, 599, 601–2, 616, 618–19, 635, 638, 653–54, 661, 664, 666, 670, 787n99 Bardaisan, the Aramaean philosopher, 368–69, 389, 505 Barsauma, archimandrite monk, 524 Barsauma, bishop of Nisibis, 593–94, 607 Baruch, Book of, 570–71 Baruch the scribe, 25, 29, 733n179 Basil of Caesarea, 499–500, 567 Basilides, early Gnostic, 285, 347–48 baths, public, 146, 153, 215, 335, 342, 353, 357, 384, 464, 490, 499, 503, 563, 583, 615 Belisarius, general of Justinian I, 610, 614–17, 619–20, 629 Ben Azzai, distinguished student of Tannaim, 265, 277, 280, 283, 688 Ben Sira, 48, 95, 100, 159, 167, 177, 181, 288, 385 Ben Zoma, distinguished student of Tannaim, 277, 280–81, 283, 688 Benedict, founder of Benedictine order, 622 Benjamin, Jew of Tiberias, 655 Benjamin, Monophysite patriarch of Alexandria, 656 Berenice, daughter of Ptolemy II, 69 Berenice, sister of Agrippa II, 191, 236, 251, 527 Beruriah, wife of Meir, 337, 759n18 Beth Alpha synagogue, 608–9, 667 Beth Shean. See Scythopolis Bethlehem, 417, 431, 462, 515, 524, 549, 562, 661 Bible. See canon; Scripture

blessings and curses, 17, 25, 31, 38–40, 61, 82, 91, 154, 167, 172, 187, 209, 218, 236, 243, 260–61, 281, 286, 292–93, 324–25, 340, 361, 401, 433, 460, 514, 603, 671–73, 677, 680, 685, 688, 693, 730n95, 768n291 blood, Christian theology of, 201, 310, 365, 387–88, 454, 559, 679, 756n424, 758n466 blood, ritual use of, 29, 124, 151, 163, 229, 276, 290–91, 302, 316, 343, 369, 489, 554, 581, 627, 653, 670–71, 677, 753n335, 753n337, 753n339 Bordeaux Pilgrim, 469, 549 Brahmans, 90, 376 Britain, 212, 214, 216, 231, 239, 271–72, 275, 332, 351, 353, 371, 393, 397, 473, 489, 493, 495, 511, 529, 592 Britain, Christians of, 410, 465, 514, 519, 534, 592, 639, 665 Britain, Jews of, 665, 790n202 Brutus, assassin of Julius Caesar, 136–37 Buddhists, Buddhism, 76, 375–76, 404 Burgundians, 600, 602, 609, 617, 678 burial rituals, 288, 307, 337, 340, 361, 366, 367, 380, 413, 460, 509, 602, 652, 667–68 burnt offering, 51, 105, 109, 199, 676–77 burnt offering, daily (Tamid), 53, 172 Byzantium, 351, 454–55, 462, 637. See also Constantinople Caesar, Julius, 134–36, 140, 171–72, 174–75, 187, 217, 386, 550 Caesarea Maritima (Straton’s Tower), 61, 146, 155–56, 192, 215, 233–36, 239–40, 245–46, 250, 256, 268, 315, 357, 283–84, 389–90, 400, 409, 417, 423, 427, 439, 442–43, 458, 460–62, 466–68, 520, 544, 596, 614, 630–31, 649, 653, 690 Caesarea Philippi. See Panias Caesarius, bishop of Arles, 605–6, 677 Caiaphas, Joseph, high priest, 190, 194, 201, 208, 215, 248, 438 Cain, son of Adam and Eve, 430, 565 calendar: Christian, 443, 447–48, 605, 673–74 calendar: Gentile, 105, 338, 401, 658 calendar: Jewish, 31, 89, 124, 164, 180, 262, 264, 338–39, 383, 443, 445, 447, 458, 484–85, 536, 558–60, 673 Caligula. See Gaius Caligula Callinicum on Euphrates, 506, 640 Callistus, bishop of Rome, 366 Cambyses, king of Persia, 34–35, 38, 49, 51–52, 59 Candelabrum. See Menorah

Index 817 canon: Hebrew, 43, 84, 86, 93, 166, 264–65, 286, 570–72 canon: New Testament, 347, 349–50, 368, 390, 416, 448, 462–63, 568, 572 Capernaum, 195, 224, 265, 667 capital crime and punishment, 3, 22, 273, 303, 357, 380, 577, 762n75 Cappadocia, 69, 187, 206, 247, 335, 355, 374, 382, 409, 468, 474, 499, 623, 625, 633, 648, 654 Caracalla (Aurelius Antoninus, Marcus), 351–54, 357–58, 372, 377, 385, 390, 393 Carthage, 99, 112, 352, 354, 362, 371, 388, 390–91, 410, 453, 465, 493, 516, 525, 563, 623, 630, 648, 657, 683, 690, 768n293 Cassiodorus, 568, 601 Cassius Longinus, governor of Syria, 134, 136–37 Caucasus mountain pass, 399, 532, 603, 616, 620, 635 celibacy, 179–80, 280, 301, 389, 483, 497, 505, 556–57, 562, 594, 673, 791n230 Celsus, Greek Egyptian critic of Christianity, 326, 343–44, 350, 417, 421–23, 435, 475, 760n47 Celts, 68–70, 142, 153, 157, 349, 398, 665. See also Gaul and Gauls Cestius Gallus, governor of Syria, 237–38, 240–41 Chalcedon, Council of, 538, 544–45, 590–91, 593, 600, 607, 623–24, 626, 640–42, 656, 664 China, 11, 76, 361, 593, 692 Christ (Messiah). See Jesus Christ Christmas, 661, 674 Chronicle of Edessa, 367 church (ekklēsia), name origin, 205, 225, 305, 312, 317, 745n108, 756n393 Cicero, 129, 131, 136, 172–73, 212, 497, 515 circumcision, Christian views of, 208, 226–29, 245, 285, 302–3, 308–9, 319, 321, 365, 418, 430, 435–36, 438–39, 443, 449, 470, 475–76, 484, 542, 544, 560, 562, 564–65, 571, 604, 670, 679, 757n437, 781n294 circumcision, Gentile views of, 123, 125, 175, 216, 217, 233, 236, 252, 273, 314, 422, 424, 486, 751n269, 781n294 circumcision, Jewish views of, 103, 105–6, 108, 123, 125, 175, 181, 183, 208, 216–17, 226–29, 233, 236, 245, 252, 276, 280, 282, 291, 295, 297, 302–3, 308–9, 313–14, 319, 325, 334, 358, 369, 418, 422, 424, 435–36, 438–39, 449, 481, 486, 542, 557,

818 Vines Intertwined 571, 604, 670–71, 679, 736n62, 757n437, 781n294 circumcision of the heart (metaphor), 21, 84, 207, 297, 308–9, 365, 476, 564, 571, 754n364 circus factions: Greens and Blues, 222, 232, 596, 614–15, 636, 648, 650, 683, 784n15 citizenship of Jews, 66, 102–3, 105–6, 135, 137, 175, 191, 218–20, 222, 246, 248, 267, 252–53, 357–58, 371, 385–87, 414–15, 462, 523, 546, 572, 606, 609, 639, 643 Claudius, Roman emperor, 191, 210, 212–16, 222–25, 227, 231, 244–45, 568 Clement, bishop of Rome, 247, 252, 266–67, 310, 436–37, 750n248 Clement of Alexandria, 263–64, 389, 413, 423, 447, 565, 567, 674, 760n45 Cleopatra II, wife of Ptolemy VI, 101, 113–14 Cleopatra III Eugertis, daughter of Ptolemy VI and Cleopatra II, 112, 114, 123, 125–26, 165 Cleopatra VII Thea Philopator, 135, 138–42, 144 Clovis, king of the Franks, 512, 592, 602, 639, 664 coins, 7, 68–69, 105, 124–25, 138, 153, 155, 191, 241, 274–76, 253, 357–58, 370, 372–73, 463, 652, 731n146, 752n285. See also denarius commandments, 17, 107, 179, 184, 199, 280, 288, 290, 294, 301, 303, 318, 320, 418, 433, 437, 509, 520, 577, 670–71, 682n326, 743n35, 743n36 Commodus, Roman emperor, 333–34, 345, 351, 366 Constans, son of Constantine I by Fausta, 473–74, 478–79, 502 Constantine I the Great, 372, 393, 397–98, 407, 413–14, 433, 447, 453–63, 465–70, 473–78, 484–85, 488, 495, 504, 519, 523, 546–52, 557, 587, 614, 655, 666–68, 674, 697, 772n25 Constantine II, son of Constantine I by Fausta, 473–74, 481, 523 Constantine III, usurper, 511 Constantinople, 242, 455, 462–63, 473, 481, 494–96, 502–3, 511–14, 530–31, 543, 587, 589, 594, 596, 599–600, 602, 613–19, 623, 631, 633–34, 336–37, 641, 647–57, 661–62 Constantinople, Christians of, 478, 481, 499–500, 518, 535–41, 587, 591, 593, 604–5, 624–25, 638, 641–42, 669

Constantinople, First Council of (381), 500, 506, 515, 535, 538 Constantinople, Jews of, 544–45, 630–31, 663–64, 666 Constantinople, Second Council of (553), 624, 626 Constantius I, Caesar under Maximian, father of Constantine I, 392–93, 397–98, 410 Constantius II, son of Constantine I by Fausta, 462, 473–76, 478–81, 484, 487, 498, 501–2, 518, 523, 548 conversion and proselytism, 106, 114, 174, 183, 216, 229, 295, 297, 303, 312–13, 352, 367, 388, 398, 418, 449, 460, 464, 470, 485–86, 494, 516, 548, 552, 558, 567, 570, 572–73, 579, 592–93, 622, 626–27, 639, 645, 650, 657, 670, 675, 677, 681–83, 692–93, 736n62, 757n436 Coponius, prefect of Judaea, 156–57, 211 Corbulo, Domitius, governor of Syria, 231 Corinth, 57, 239, 636 Corinth, Christians of, 245, 267–68, 307, 310, 314, 316–18, 442, 449, 748n187 Corinth, Jews of, 418, 665, 700 Cornelius Fronto, 271, 342–43 council: Christian, 454, 464, 466, 478–79, 497, 518, 531, 536–38, 560, 594, 607, 657, 677–79, 692 council: Jewish, 93, 100, 109, 116, 124, 127, 136, 175, 191, 194, 201, 206, 220, 228, 234, 238, 246, 262, 264–65, 267, 287, 294, 305–6, 316, 336, 338, 340, 357, 434, 443, 471, 478, 507, 746n119, 749n228, 757n443 courts, law, 30, 176, 260–62, 264, 289, 291, 339–40, 366, 379–80, 383, 397, 489, 497, 523, 528, 543, 545, 575, 578, 629, 642–43, 679 courts of Herod’s temple, 22, 28, 50, 149–50, 157, 217, 229, 239, 241, 246, 258 covenant, biblical and Jewish views of, 1–2, 16–17, 20–22, 80–81, 83, 91, 95, 107–8, 117, 157, 164, 166, 169, 175–77, 179–81, 229, 286, 288–91, 325, 418, 425, 427, 556–57, 575, 579, 580, 670–71, 676. See also New Covenant covenant, Christian views of, 346–47, 365, 408, 419–20, 425, 427, 556–57, 564, 670–71, 676 covenant, Jesus and Jewish believer’s views of, 195, 201, 300–302, 309–10, 313, 432, 437, 684, 756n424 Covenanters of Qumran, 178, 197, 200, 292–93, 313–16, 320, 736n72. See also Qumran

Crassus, Licinius, Roman legate of Syria, 134, 143 Crispus, son of Constantine I by Minervina, 397, 453, 460, 473, 547 cross, Jesus’ death on, 201–2, 299, 309, 321, 328, 348, 437 cross, Jewish views of, 525, 571, 610, 676, 693 cross, Palantine, 414 cross, relics (True Cross), 461, 650, 655–56, 661, 668 cross, symbol of, 396, 398, 414, 495, 498, 642, 667–68, 691 crucifixions, 126, 154, 195, 223, 232, 235, 248 Ctesiphon (Seleucia-Ctesiphon), 189, 254, 272, 332, 360, 373–74, 393, 464, 468, 521, 607, 609, 627, 637, 650, 654, 661 cult (cultus): Christian, 343, 408, 413, 479, 525, 536, 604, 664 cult (cultus): Gentile, 33, 67, 79, 105–7, 147, 171–72, 354, 372, 375, 380, 396, 398, 408, 462, 489, 502, 533, 548, 622 cult (cultus): Jewish, 16–17, 20, 44, 51, 87, 103, 114, 172, 176, 181, 258, 292, 303, 339, 359, 413, 462 Cumanus, procurator of Palestine, 223–24 Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, 371, 388–91, 514 Cyprus, 38, 112, 114, 125–26, 144, 245, 255–56, 266, 268, 625, 652 Cyprus, Jews of, 114, 174, 209, 227–28 Cyrene, 64, 112, 630 Cyrene, Jews of, 113, 174, 176, 206, 227, 254–56, 348 Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, 461 Cyril, patriarch of Alexandria, 514, 517–18, 525–27, 535–37, 539–40, 550, 571, 590–91, 605, 608, 656 Cyrus, king of Persia, 32–35, 38, 40, 42, 85, 131, 166, 373, 527 Cyrus, patriarch of Alexandria, 656 Cyrus the Younger, 55 Dadisho, catholicos of Persia, 541, 593 Damascus, 58, 60, 64, 146, 191, 208, 648–49, 651, 661 Damascus, Christians of, 268, 488 Damascus, Jews of, 117, 130, 136, 208, 224–25, 228, 313, 438, 488, 666, 681 Damasus, bishop of Rome, 414, 496–98, 500, 515, 562 Daniel, book of, 31, 49, 60–61, 103, 107, 161, 162–63, 167, 170–71, 229, 365, 381, 406, 552, 557, 691, 750n241

Index 819 Danube, river and region, 57, 143, 239, 251–53, 271, 332–33, 351, 355, 370–72, 415, 455, 473, 479, 481, 493–94, 530–31, 619, 635. See also Balkans Darius I, Persian king, 35, 38–40, 42–43, 147, 166, 373 Darius II Ochos, Persian king, 49, 51–52, 54–55 Darius III, Persian king, 57–58, 60, 62 David, city of, 105, 150, 240 David, king of Israel, 14, 20, 121–22, 156, 181, 416, 428, 502, 549, 557, 653, 672 David, messianic foundation, 166–71, 200, 269, 274, 292, 488, 685–86, 688 David, tomb of, 122 Davidic lineage, 39, 82, 87, 166–67, 267, 361, 435, 578, 610, 684 Day of Atonement, 118, 151, 264, 674. See also Yom Kippur Dead Sea Scrolls, 5, 32, 82, 84, 116–17, 124, 127, 169–70, 178, 182, 197, 205, 297, 412, 687, 698, 732n168. See also Covenanters, Qumran Decius, Roman emperor, 371, 387–88, 390, 405, 415, 454 Demetrianus, exiled bishop of Antioch, 374 Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria, 389–90 Demetrius, son of Antigonus One-Eye, 47, 65 Demetrius I Soter, son of Seleucus IV, 110–11, 114, 116, 118–19 Demetrius II Nicator, king of Syria, 119–21 Demetrius III Eukairos, king of Syria, 126 demons, 158–59, 164, 170, 184, 194–95, 198–99, 341, 396, 400, 405, 468, 472, 518, 548–49, 561, 581–82, 597, 603, 618, 781n273 denarius, 340, 352, 373, 382–83, 598 Deutero-Isaiah, 33, 53, 76–77, 85, 114, 166, 170, 204, 675. See also Isaiah Dhu Nuwas (Yusuf As’ar), Jewish king of Himyar, 611–12, 658, 682 Diaspora, 49–50, 52–54, 56, 66, 71, 87, 94–95, 105, 124, 130, 144, 146, 148, 155, 159, 164, 173–75, 182–83, 188, 206, 210–11, 216, 220, 225, 228–29, 235, 245, 247, 254–58, 262, 268, 273, 275–76, 278, 280, 294, 296, 298, 300–302, 305, 308, 311, 325, 334–35, 338, 340, 346, 356, 358, 361, 366, 374, 383–84, 417, 420–21, 423, 440–41, 447, 468, 471, 485, 488, 508, 522–23, 554–55, 572, 574–75, 667, 680, 699 dietary laws. See kashrut

820 Vines Intertwined Dio Cassius, historian, 225, 252, 254–56, 273, 275–76, 333, 352–54, 373 Diocletian, Roman emperor, 373, 377, 392–93, 396–97, 399–400, 408–9, 453–55, 469, 605, 614 Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria, 448, 468, 687 Dionysius Exiguus, Scythian monk, 605 Dioscorus, bishop of Alexandria, 537–38, 540 divination, 78, 88, 396, 521, 678, 744n70 Domitian, Roman emperor, 242, 251–53, 257, 266–68, 273, 334, 346, 355, 454 Donatists, Christian faction, 454, 519, 525, 564–65 Dositheus, Jewish general under Ptolemy VI, 113 Drusilla, sister of Agrippa II, 233 Dura Europos, 413–16, 666 earthquakes, 67, 141, 251, 266, 489, 506, 524, 620, 633, 648–49, 660 Easter, 440, 447–48, 639. See Passover Ebionites, leading sect of Jewish believers, 433–36, 439 Edessa, center of early Christianity in Asia Minor, 255, 367–68, 389, 410, 468, 505–6, 525, 539–40, 550, 593–94, 608, 620, 625, 627, 647, 652, 655, 667 Edom, symbolic of Esau and Rome, 429, 432, 551–53 Edom, territory southeast of Judaea, 24, 32, 369, 420, 690–91. See also Idumaea Egypt, Christians of, 266, 344, 347–49, 404–5, 409–10, 459, 464–66, 478–79, 506, 515, 518, 536, 554, 569–70, 581, 590, 600, 607, 623–24, 626, 641, 649, 656, 665, 774n81 Egypt, Jews of, 49–53, 82, 91, 93–94, 116–17, 123, 126, 135, 149, 159–60, 165–66, 172–76, 180, 206, 217–23, 229, 233, 237, 254–56, 295, 334, 404, 412, 437, 445–48, 508, 554, 569–70, 666, 689, 730n95, 792n272 Egypt and Egyptians, 11, 14–26, 28–30, 34–35, 38, 55–56, 59, 62–74, 79, 101, 104–5, 112–14, 134–35, 137, 140–43, 217, 240, 254–56, 284, 311, 332–33, 343–44, 351, 353, 358, 372, 393, 599, 618, 650, 652, 654, 662, 746n119 Elagabalus (Aurelius Antoninus), Roman emperor, 354, 372, 398 Eleazar, brother of Judas Maccabeus, 107, 110 Eleazar, Pharisee under Hyrcanus I, 123 Eleazer II b. Pedat, leading sage at Tiberias, 385, 401

Eleazar b. Ananias, temple captain 234, 236 Eleazar b. Arak, disciple of Johanan b. Zakkai, 243, 261 Eleazar b. Azariah, temporary leader of Yavneh rabbis, 264–65, 277, 280 Eleazar b. Dama, nephew of Rabbi Ishmael, 326 Eleazar b. Shammua, usually “Rabbi Eleazar,” 278, 336, 338, 356, 583 Eleazar b. Simon, zealot priest, 240 Eleazar b. Yair, zealot leader at Masada, 257 Elephantiné, Jewish military colony on the Nile, 30, 49–55, 87, 581, 731n122, 731n129 Eliezer b. Hyrcanus, disciple of Johanan b. Zakkai, 243, 259–61, 263–64, 277–78, 281–82, 293, 295, 326, 663, 682 Elijah the prophet, 171, 193, 261, 263, 304, 380, 384, 419, 552, 557, 644, 685–86 Elisha b. Abuya (“Aher”), 277, 282–83, 287, 337, 574 Elisha b. Shila, Persian catholicos, 607, 626 Elkesaites, 285 Elvira, Council of, 465, 677 Emmaus (later Nicopolis), 108, 137, 239, 389, 465 Emmaus near Jerusalem, 204, 250, 748n192 emperor worship. See worship Enoch traditions, 87–90, 161, 164, 170–71, 176, 200, 298, 418, 428, 463, 673, 688, 733n186 Ephesus, 65, 67, 69, 272, 649, 652, 666 Ephesus, Christians of, 245, 247, 266, 268, 270, 344, 346, 417, 442, 625 Ephesus, councils of, 531, 536–40, 642 Ephesus, Jews of, 245, 247, 266, 292, 344 Ephrem Syrus, 368, 483, 505–6, 539, 555, 558–59, 608, 623 Epicurus and Epicureanism, 77–78, 92, 325 Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis, 407, 433, 436, 485, 518, 549, 568, 663 eschatology, 41, 84, 88, 161–71, 193–94, 230, 310, 324, 347, 481, 552, 691, 768n284 Essenes, 116–18, 124, 127, 147–48, 169, 174, 178–84, 196, 198, 237, 258, 262, 301, 304, 308, 311–12, 324, 336, 366, 404, 568, 664, 674, 736n72, 740n194, 741n210, 790n224 Ethelbert, king of Britain, 639, 665 Ethiopia and Ethiopians, 26, 35, 53, 76, 175, 590, 610–12, 618, 626, 634, 660, 664–65, 681, 730n110

Eucharist (Lord’s Supper), 268, 303–4, 223–24, 345, 410, 413, 416, 596, 602, 606, 642, 656, 667, 672–73 Eudocia, daughter of Licinia Eudoxia and Valentinian III, 531, 588 Eudocia (Athenais), wife of Theodosius II, 524, 530 Eudocia (Fabia), first queen of Emperor Heraclius, 648 Eudoxia, Aelia, wife of Emperor Arcadius, 518–19 Euhemerus of Messene, 79, 165 Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, 459, 463, 465–66, 474, 478, 481 Eusebius of Caesarea, 207, 237, 247, 252, 254, 267, 276, 284, 342, 352, 363, 367–68, 389, 398, 400, 404, 407–10, 427, 433, 439, 442, 455, 459–63, 465–67, 506, 515, 536, 546, 551, 555, 567–69, 684, 687 Eutyches, archimandrite monk of Constantinople, 537, 591, 624 Evagrius Scholasticus, Christian lawyer and historian, 591, 600 excommunication, Christian, 278, 346, 443, 459, 464, 502, 536, 540, 560, 623, 678–80 excommunication, Jewish, 198, 264, 326, 359, 362, 485, 522, 576, 762n96 exilarchate, 361–62, 377–79, 402–4, 509, 527–28, 544–45, 597–98, 609–10, 632, 646 exile, Christians in, 247, 366, 410, 466, 478–80, 506, 519–20, 540, 608, 624–25, 650, 684 exile, Jews in, 1–2, 18, 21, 23–25, 27, 29–32, 34, 38–41, 47, 51, 53, 80, 82–85, 87, 93–94, 100, 103, 113, 116, 127–28, 148, 158, 163, 165–66, 181, 247, 280 exile, political, 212, 214, 221, 224, 335–36, 366, 374, 468, 506, 588, 627 exile, symbolic, 117, 159, 312, 327, 410, 688 exodus from Egypt, 34, 49, 162, 219, 440–42, 446–47, 744n81 exorcism, 194, 326, 377, 472, 627, 670 Ezekiel, chariot of, 283, 608 Ezekiel, prophet in exile, 23, 25, 29, 48, 83–85, 93–94, 166, 292, 557, 728n49 Ezra the scribe, 34, 38–40, 43–45, 47–48, 51, 54, 82, 85–86, 87, 94, 100, 166, 264–65, 292, 297, 311, 429, 446, 485, 693 Fadus, Cuspius, procurator of Judaea, 222–23 fasting, 28, 41, 108, 180, 196, 198, 305, 357, 401, 403, 405, 441–44, 504, 530, 560, 606, 618, 641, 673. See also asceticism

Index 821 Fausta, second wife of Constantine, official empress, 397, 453, 460, 463, 473 Faustus, Manichean adversary of Augustine, 517, 566 Feast of the Holy Maccabees, 504 feasts, Christian, 324, 343, 443, 560, 673, 687 feasts, Jewish. See pilgrimage, Sukkot, Yom Kippur, Shavuot, Hanukkah, Purim, Passover, Unleavened Bread Felix, Antonius, procurator of Judaea, 224, 233–34 Felix III, bishop of Rome, 591, 604 Festus, Porcius, procurator of Judaea, 234, 246, 746n134 fiscus Iudaicus (half-shekel tax), 251, 303, 334, 357, 416, 692 Flaccus, Avillius, governor of Egypt during great riots, 219–21 Flavian, bishop of Antioch, patriarch of Constantinople, 503–4, 508, 537–38 Flavius Silva, Roman general at Masada, 257 Florus, Gessius, procurator of Judaea at Great Revolt, 235–36 Franks, 372, 475, 592, 600, 602, 606, 609, 616, 636, 639, 643, 664 Gabinius, the governor of Syria under Pompey, 131, 134, 137 Gabriel, archangel, 88, 163, 170, 660 Gaiseric, king of the Vandals, 531, 588, 616 Gaius Caligula, 191, 210–12, 215, 220–22, 229, 244, 252, 258, 291, 334 Galatia (territory or Roman province) and Galatians, 68, 70–71, 226, 228, 247, 302, 309, 346, 437, 477, 616, 732n139, 746n119 Galba, temporary emperor, 239, 250 Galen, personal physician of Marcus, 332, 342 Galerius, Caesar under Diocletian, 392–93, 397–99, 408–11, 453–54 Galilee, 71, 109, 125–26, 131, 136–38, 147, 153–56, 194–95, 212, 216, 224, 237–38, 243, 272, 275, 279–81, 325, 335–38, 340, 351, 361, 439, 486, 544, 609, 655, 665, 669 Galilee, Sea of (Lake Gennesaret), 102, 125, 155, 190, 335, 649 Galla Placidia, half-sister of Emperor Honorius, 512, 529, 531 Gallienus, Roman Emperor, 371, 373, 391 Gallus, son of Julius Constantius, 473–74, 484–85, 773n52

822 Vines Intertwined Gamaliel I the Elder, 206–8, 215, 217, 238, 240, 242, 248, 259, 261, 438, 577, 669 Gamaliel II, 259, 261–64, 277, 280, 325–27, 441–42, 448 Gamaliel III, patriarch, 359–60, 382 Gamaliel IV, patriarch, 383 Gamaliel V, patriarch, 507–8, 522 Gamaliel VI, patriarch, 522, 542–44 Gaul, Christians of, 322, 340–41, 349, 362, 397, 409–10, 442–43, 454, 465, 498, 506, 514–15, 534, 592, 605–6, 623, 639, 664, 677–78 Gaul, Jewish, Jews of, 506, 605–6, 609, 664–65, 678 Gaul and Gauls, 68–70, 142, 153, 156, 174, 187, 211, 239, 271, 319, 331, 351, 371–72, 392–93, 397–98, 473–76, 492–93, 495, 497–98, 511–12, 514–15, 531, 587–88, 592, 600, 602, 616, 619. See also Celts Gaulanitis, territory of Judaea, 153, 155–56, 238, 358 Gaza, 59–60, 62, 64, 70–71, 102, 119, 126, 131, 356, 465, 506, 544, 550, 661 Gedaliah, governor of Judah, 27–31, 41 Gehenna, Hell, Hades (Sheol = After-life), 160, 176, 208, 261, 317, 319, 325, 388, 558, 579–80, 598, 733n193 Gelimer, king of Vandals, 616 genealogy, 11, 39, 88, 435, 476 Geniva, martyred rabbi, 402 Gentile, righteous, 291, 297, 675, 698 Gentile views of Jews and Christians, 175, 194, 284, 343, 581, 697 Gentiles, 1, 18, 93, 105–10, 123, 126, 139, 146–47, 181, 194–97, 234, 287, 339, 672, 674 Gentiles, Christian mission to, 244–45, 300–303, 341–42, 367, 410, 436, 569 Gentiles, Christians as, 323–24, 365, 416, 418–19, 426, 430, 432–33, 439, 442–43, 481, 499, 557–58, 575, 671, 680, 684, 697, 769n298 Gentiles, Jewish mission to, 88, 94, 114, 149, 161, 164, 169, 183–84, 206, 208–9, 216, 224–29, 267–68, 288, 290–91, 295–97, 302–3, 313–15, 431, 436–38, 443, 449, 682, 684, 698, 741n13, 757n443 Gentiles, Jewish relations with, 40, 43, 95, 100, 117, 119–21, 144, 155, 162, 164, 173–76, 182–83, 197, 217, 222, 236–39, 244–46, 249, 252, 257, 294–95, 308–12, 315–24, 334–36, 357–58, 377, 380–82, 410, 429, 436–37, 486, 489, 527–28, 543,

557, 579, 582–83, 668, 670, 672, 675, 684, 688, 697–98, 754n364 Gentiles, non-Christians as, 547, 674 George, Arian bishop of Alexandria, 479–80 George of Pisidia, court poet for Heraclius, 652, 656 Gerizim, Mount, 122, 157, 181, 192, 440, 596 Geta, Lucius Septimius, son of Septimius Severus, Roman emperor, 351–53 Ghassanid Arabs, 625, 635, 665 Gnostics and Gnosticism, 207, 278, 282–83, 285, 287, 324–25, 346–50, 362–65, 368–69, 376, 389–90, 396, 404, 418, 424–25, 434, 439, 464, 603, 744n63, 760–761n53 God-fearer, 206, 224, 226–27, 229, 244, 294, 297, 311 Gorgias, Syrian general, 108 Goths, Ostrogoths, and Visigoths, 371–74, 455, 463, 481–82, 493–95, 501–2, 510–13, 531, 534, 587–89, 592, 600–602, 609, 616–17, 619–20, 664, 678–79 Gratian, Roman emperor of the West, 492–97, 500–501 Gratus, Valerius, Prefect of Judaea, 190, 192 Greek language, 2, 76, 78, 82, 90, 125, 135, 138, 144, 149, 159, 176, 178, 206–7, 218–19, 268, 282, 286–87, 292, 344–45, 350, 356, 398, 412–13, 416, 423, 444, 449, 458, 479, 527, 539, 604, 630–31, 667, 672, 687 Greek translation of scripture, 72, 94–95, 160–62, 173, 205, 225, 278–79, 300, 390, 419, 563, 574–75, 581, 599, 630, 681 Greens and Blues. See circus factions Gregory, bishop of Antioch, 634, 642 Gregory, pope, 638–39, 643–45, 664 Gregory of Nazianzus, theologian, 474, 538 Gregory of Nyssa, theologian, 499, 567 Gregory of Tours, historian, 602 Gregory the Illuminator, apostle of Armenia, 468, 478, 520 gymnasium; in Jerusalem, 102–3, 143 Hadrian, Roman emperor, 256, 271–73, 275–76, 283–84, 291, 327, 331–32, 334–37, 341, 372, 416, 429, 469–70, 570, 598, 751n285, 752n285 haggadah, lore, 289, 401, 489, 563, 575, 751n273 Haggai, prophet of Judah, 39–41, 49, 93

halakhah, law, obligation, 205, 229, 277, 280, 289, 301–2, 326, 336–38, 359, 362, 382, 401–2, 528, 675, 685 Hama, leader of Nehardea school, 508–9 Hammurabi, 14, 30 Hananiah, prophet of Judah, 24–25 Hananiah (Hanina), nephew of R. Joshua b. Hananiah, 265–66, 338–39, 485 Hananiah b. Teradion, 277, 281, 337 Hanina, captain of the priests, 259 Hanina b. Dosa, Pharisee hasid, 198 Hanina b. Gamaliel, 277 Hanina b. Hama, 383–84, 386, 598 Hannibal, general of Carthage, 70, 99 Hanukkah, 109, 381, 674 hasid, righteous one, a saint, 198, 281 Hasideans, Jewish faction under Maccabees, 107, 108, 110, 116–18 Hasidim, righteous ones, 94, 107, 403, 734n208 Hasmonean, etymology, 116, 735n30 Hasmonean dynasty, legacy of, 118, 124, 126, 129–31, 138–40, 142, 144, 152, 167–68, 171, 182, 291–92, 689, 693 Hecataeus of Abdera, 62, 71–73, 77 Hegesippus, 248, 267 Helbo, Babylonian sage, 297 Helena, Jewish proselyte and queen mother of Adiabene, 216, 227, 367 Helena, queen mother of Constantine, 393, 460–62, 668 Heliodorus, Syrian minister of Seleucus IV, 101–2 Hellenism, syncretistic Greek culture, 57, 146, 173, 271, 548 Henotikon, Zeno’s formula, 591, 600, 605, 640 Hephthalites, barbarians of eastern Persia, 373, 532, 589, 603, 620, 635 Heraclius, emperor of Byzantine Rome, 648, 651–57, 660–62, 683, 691–92 heresy, heretics (minim), 268, 279, 282–83, 285, 324–27, 349, 359, 362, 366, 368, 390, 419, 424–25, 427–28, 433–34, 443, 459, 465, 470, 478, 482, 486, 505, 514, 516–19, 525, 536–38, 544–45, 547, 549, 551, 567, 573–74, 583, 591, 593–95, 602–6, 614, 621–23, 628–30, 643, 660, 678, 680, 684, 687, 689, 692, 699 Herod Antipas, tetrarch, 152–55, 190–91, 193–94, 196, 199, 211–12, 337 Herod Philip, son of Herod and Miriamme II, 191

Index 823 Herod the Great, 129, 136–57, 170–71, 177, 179, 182, 191–92, 194, 200, 210, 214–15, 233, 235, 258–59, 272, 291–92, 305, 429, 473, 735n46, 737n107, 737n112, 749n228, 785n41 Herodias, daughter of Aristobulus (IV) Herod, 155, 191, 211, 518 Herodotus of Halicarnassus, 32, 34–35, 42–43, 45, 53, 83, 276 Hezekiah, king of Judah, 15, 22, 85, 167, 419, 557, 685 Hezekiah, robber baron, 136, 156 high priest, 17, 26–27, 39–41, 44, 48, 54, 60–61, 72–73, 87, 93–94, 100–103, 109, 114, 116–18, 120–21, 123–24, 137, 140, 151, 156, 159–60, 167, 170, 180, 201, 206–7, 211, 215, 223, 234, 236, 238–39, 248, 262, 287, 291, 305 Hilary of Poitiers, bishop, 479–80, 498 Hillel II, patriarch, 390, 469, 483–85, 487 Hillel and Shammai (as houses), 197, 243–44, 248, 260, 265, 289–90, 301, 383 Hillel the Elder, Babylonian sage, 151, 184, 195, 243, 279, 289, 293, 359, 361, 433, 472, 544, 663 Himyar (Yemen) and Himyarites, 610–12, 634, 666, 681–82, 792n271 Hippolytus, theologian, 366, 389, 435, 443, 448, 687 Hisda, Babylonian sage, 401–4 Historia Augusta, 273, 332, 334, 352, 354, 358, 507 Hiyya II bar Abba, 400–401 Hiyya Rabbah, 360–61, 383, 385, 400, 402–3 Holy Land, 298, 357, 361, 386, 484, 524, 549, 596, 667–69, 690, 733n204, 755n370 Holy of Holies, 131, 150–51, 219, 298, 553–54, 661, 738n131 Holy Spirit of God, 193, 198, 206–7, 226, 264–67, 300, 304, 305–7, 349, 376, 458–59, 466, 499–500, 517, 591, 608, 673, 684. See also Trinity Homer, Greek poet, 42, 76, 159, 219, 243 Honoria, sister of Valentinian III, 512, 531 Honorius, emperor of the West, 495, 510–12, 523–25, 529 Honorius, pope, 657 Hophra (Apries), king of Egypt, 25–26 Horace, Roman poet, 173 Hormisdas, pope, 605 Hoshaiah (Oshayah) Rabbah the Elder, 383–85, 400, 423–24, 427

824 Vines Intertwined Hosius of Córdoba, 459, 478–80 Huldah, prophetess of Judah, 17, 21 Huna b. Hiyya, head of academy in Pumbedita, 403, 471 Huna b. Mar Zutra, exilarch, 598 Huna I, exilarch, 361, 378 Huna IV b. Nathan, exilarch, 527–28, 545 Huna “the Babylonian,” head of school in Sura, 401–3, 582 Hurmazd I, Sasanian king, 376, 393 Hurmazd II, Sasanian king, 399, 463–64 Hurmazd IV, Sasanian king, 634–35, 637, 641–42, 645–46 Hyrcanus I, John, Hasmonean leader, 121–25, 128, 167, 693 Hyrcanus II, son of Jannaeus and Salome, 128–31, 135–39, 141, 168, 181 Hyrcanus the Tobiad, 75, 100–102 Ibn Hisham, Muslim historian, 658, 660 Iddi, rabbi, 470 idolatry: ancient Israel, 17, 29, 437, 439, 561 idolatry: Christian response, 364, 519, 526, 561, 627 idolatry: Gentile practice, 105, 149, 548, 554, 579, 653, 676 idolatry: Jewish believer response, 229, 302–3, 314, 316 idolatry: Jewish response, 40, 105, 144, 165, 183, 192, 279, 291, 297, 334, 340, 380, 387, 469, 486, 680, 730n95, 753n335 idolatry: Jewish view of Christianity, 208, 279, 342, 556, 688 Idumaea, Idumaeans (Edom), 123, 129–31, 136, 147, 152–55, 239, 429, 551, 693, 736n62 Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, 266, 268–69, 311–12, 320–21, 323, 341, 350, 435, 699 Illyrians and Illyricum, 143, 372, 392–93, 397, 479, 492, 494, 498, 510–12, 514, 523, 601, 613, 665 Imma Shalom, sister of Gamaliel II, 326–27 India and Indians, 59, 62, 64–65, 69–70, 77, 90, 92, 255, 361, 372, 376, 477, 527, 572, 606, 637 Innocent I, bishop of Rome, 511, 514 intermarriage, 62, 217, 297, 311, 484, 546, 658, 664, 678, 684, 697–98, 700, 730n95 Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons, 348–51, 359, 363, 366, 430, 434–35, 442–44, 551, 563, 687 Isaac, biblical patriarch, 49, 83, 162, 181, 314, 419–20, 429, 432, 553, 683

Isaac, Jewish convert and apostate, 497 Isaac, Mar, leading Jew of Piruz-Shapur, 691 Isaac the Great, catholicos of Armenia, 520–21, 532 Isaiah, prophet of Judah, 33, 53, 85, 93, 169, 240, 300, 467, 517, 574, 673, 690, 755n377. See also Deutero-Isaiah Ishmael, son of Abraham and Hagar, 2, 91, 314, 420, 655, 690–91, 732n153 Ishmael b. Elisha, leading Tanna, 277, 279, 326, 335, 337–38, 360, 688 Ishmael b. Nethaniah, prince of Judah, 28–29 Ishoyahb I of Arzun, catholicos of Persia, 641–42 Ishoyahb II, 655–56, 692 Isidore of Pelusium, 566 Isidore of Seville, 503, 568, 679 Israel, etymology, 295–96, 309 Israel, Land of, 83, 167, 228, 262–63, 287, 298, 303, 312, 340, 385, 688. See also Holy Land Israel, “true Israel,” 2, 287, 313, 420, 431–32, 552, 698 Italy, 99, 140, 174, 188, 225, 246, 253, 256, 331–32, 352, 371, 392–93, 397–98, 453, 473, 495, 497, 501, 507, 510–12, 531, 552, 588–89, 601, 616–17, 619–20, 635–36, 638, 647, 664 Italy, Christians of, 410, 465, 480, 520, 592, 604, 622, 624, 639, 664 Italy, Jews of, 497, 507, 543, 555, 609, 617, 643–45, 664–65, 667 Izates, proselyte Jewish king of Adiabene, 216–17, 229, 255, 367 Jacob, biblical patriarch, 33, 49, 75, 79, 82– 83, 162, 274, 295–96, 419–20, 732n168 Jacob, forced convert, 683–85, 690 Jacob and Esau, 6, 314, 429–32, 551–52, 557 Jacob Baradaeus, Monophysite leader, 625–26, 640 Jacob of Kefar Sama/Sikhnin, rabbinic min, 326, 759n471 Jacob of Sarug (Serugh), Syrian poet, 607–8 Jaddua, high priest of Jerusalem, 54, 60–62, 72 James, brother of Jesus, 194, 197, 205, 207, 209, 215, 225–29, 234, 245–46, 248–49, 259–60, 284, 302–3, 306, 312, 315, 346, 433, 436–39, 443, 463, 564, 568, 743n54, 757n443

James b. Judas the Galilean, 223 James b. Zebedee, 215, 225, 746n122 Jamnia, 221, 239–40, 243, 258, 272. See also Yavneh Jannaeus, Alexander, Hasmonean king, 125–28, 130, 576, 693, 736n66, 736n69 Jason, brother of Onias III, high priest, 102–5, 734n9 Jehoahaz (Shallum), king of Judah, 12, 19–20, 22 Jehoiakim (Elaikim), king of Judah, 20, 23–24 Jehoiachin, king of Judah, 23, 29, 31 Jeremiah, prophet of Judah, 1, 17, 20–29, 31, 39, 41, 49, 50, 76, 83–85, 93, 117, 163, 200, 259, 310, 313, 382, 408, 557, 561, 676, 733n179 Jericho, 59, 90, 122, 129, 131, 139–40, 144, 147, 153, 155, 239, 272, 340, 438, 465, 549, 571 Jerome, 95, 358, 390, 407, 433, 469, 480–81, 512, 514–15, 518, 520, 558, 562–66, 568, 574, 663, 665, 699, 751n284, 773n52, 781n278, 781n286 Jerusalem, as holy city, 192, 187, 298, 312, 426, 460, 549, 576, 616, 655–56 Jerusalem. See also Aelia Capitolina Jeshua (Joshua), first high priest of Second Temple, 27, 39–41, 87, 103, 166 Jesus: identified as Christ (Messiah), 225, 269, 275, 284, 299, 312, 364, 413–14, 536 Jesus: so-called son of Pantera/Panthera, 326, 344, 538 Jesus: views of his nature, 268, 368, 435, 439, 458, 534–39, 591 Jesus b. Ananias, war time prophet, 234–35 Jesus b. Damnaeus, high priest, 234 Jesus of Nazareth (historical Jesus), 84, 194–203, 207, 301, 312, 577 Jew, name origin, 173 Jewishness, 103, 106, 171, 173–74, 182, 223, 258, 302, 313, 319, 364, 430, 697, 757n437 Joazar b. Boethius, high priest, 156 Johanan, high priest, 54 Johanan b. Nappaha, leading Palestine sage, 274, 378, 383, 384, 386–87, 400–401, 416–17, 423–27, 452, 574, 685 Johanan b. Nuri, leading Tanna, 277, 280, 336 Johanan b. Torta, colleague of Akiba, 274 Johanan b. Zakkai, father of rabbinic Judaism, 239–40, 242–43, 249, 258–61, 263, 277, 283, 292–93, 320, 382, 578, 663, 685, 747n159, 749n217, 749n223

Index 825 John, bishop of Antioch, 536–37, 540 John, brother of Judas Maccabeus, 107, 116 John, Gospel of, 109, 247, 268, 300, 303, 309–10, 312, 325, 413, 441, 445, 458, 485, 517, 577, 742n22, 770n325 John, monophysite bishop of Hephaistos, Egypt, 625 John, patriarch of Constantinople, 605, 638 John I, pope, 605, 617 John b. Zebedee, disciple of Jesus, church pillar, 207, 225, 227–28, 443 John Chrysostom, famous preacher, 407, 481, 503–4, 514, 517–18, 535, 559–61, 583, 641–62 John Hyrcanus. See Hyrcanus John of Ephesus, Monophysite bishop and historian, 625, 633 John of Gischala, Zealot leader, 238–39, 242 John of Nikiu, bishop and chronographer, 643 John of Tella, Monophysite missionary, 624–25 John the Almsgiver, Chalcedonian patriarch of Alexandria, 665 John the Baptist, 147, 155, 193–96, 199–200, 202, 259–60, 293, 319, 413, 432, 438, 636, 674 John the Presbyter, presumed author of Revelation, 266, 268, 284, 309, 685–86 Jonathan, disciple of R. Ishmael, 335, 338 Jonathan, high priest before Great War, 224, 233 Jonathan the Hasmonean, 107, 111, 116–21 Joppa (Jaffa, Yafo), 64, 102–3, 119, 121–22, 131, 135, 155, 226, 258, 272, 278, 465 Jordan River and valley, 71, 102, 122, 125, 127, 147, 155, 193–94, 223, 237, 335, 340, 401, 465, 684 Jordanes, Gothic Christian historian, 588–89 Jose b. Halafta, leading Tanna, 278, 280, 335–36, 488 Jose b. Kisma, 281 Jose the Galilean, leading Tanna, 277, 280, 290, 663 Joseph, biblical patriarch, 83 Joseph, catholicos of Persian church, 628, 641 Joseph, father of Jesus, 194, 300, 435, 755n377 Joseph, husband of Herod’s sister Salome, 140 Joseph, Persian Jewish believer, 626

826 Vines Intertwined Joseph bar Hiyya, 472 Joseph ben Gorion, Zealot leader, 237 Joseph of Tiberias, 485–86 Joseph the Tobiad, 73–75, 106 Josephus, Flavius: historical figure, 237–41, 256–58, 268 Josephus, Flavius: selected views, 128, 130, 144, 149, 172, 174, 180, 193–94, 286–87, 291–92, 295–96, 309, 311, 319 Joshua, biblical figure, 44, 81, 157, 181, 223, 293, 340, 524, 557, 575 Joshua b. Hananiah, leading Tanna, 243, 259–65, 277, 279, 281–82, 293, 295, 320, 327, 338, 440, 485, 583–84, 663, 682 Joshua b. Levi, sage of Palestine, 383–84, 583, 686 Josi b. Kefar, emissary for Judah I, 361 Josiah, king of Judah, 1, 11, 15–23, 27, 30, 49, 53, 76, 82–83, 94, 167, 557 Josiah, prominent pupil of Rabbi Ishmael, 335, 338, 360, 579n22 Jovian, Roman emperor, 393, 476–77, 492, 506, 600 Jubilees, book of, 161, 164, 175–76, 290, 296–97, 310, 673 Judah I the Prince, patriarch, 337–38, 351, 353, 356–62, 377–79, 382–84, 386, 403, 471, 528, 542, 545, 630, 761n74, 761n75 Judah II, patriarch, 382–83, 385, 390, 401, 761n75 Judah III, patriarch, 383, 392, 399–400 Judah IV, patriarch, 485, 508, 522 Judah b. Baba, disciple of Akiba, 227, 281 Judah b. Bathyra I, early sage of Nisibis, 217 Judah b. Bathyra II, sage of Nisibis, 338, 360, 378 Judah b. Ezekiel, leader in Pumbedita, 401, 403, 471 Judah b. Ilai, leading Tanna, 278, 336, 356, 768n285 Judah b. R. Shallum the Levite, 575 Judah b. Simon, 575 Judaizers and Judaization, 315, 321–23, 346, 349, 481, 504–5, 547, 549, 555, 559–64, 700, 739n173, 774n67, 781n283 Judas Iscariot, disciple of Jesus, 201, 205, 558 Judas Maccabeus, leader of revolt, 107–11, 114, 116, 119, 131 Judas the Galilean, son of Hezekias, 154 Judas the Galilean/Gaulanite (of Gamala), 156, 180–81, 223, 236, 257 Jude (Judas), brother of Jesus, 194, 267

Julia Domna, second wife of Septimius Severus, 351, 355 Julian the Apostate, Roman emperor, 473–77, 480–81, 486–93, 498–99, 501–2, 504, 506–7, 523, 546–47, 550, 553, 581, 598, 654, 699, 774n77 Julius Africanus, early elite Christian, 389, 574, 745n93 Julius Caesar, 134–36, 140, 171–72, 174–75, 187, 217, 386, 550, 761n60 Julius Constantius, half brother of Constantine I, 473, 475 Julius Severus, Roman commander of Bar Kokhba war, 275–76 Justin I, Roman Byzantine emperor, 591, 601, 603, 605, 607–9, 611, 613, 615–17, 624 Justin II, Roman Byzantine emperor, 633–36, 640–42 Justin Martyr, early Christian apologist, 322, 344–45, 350, 363–64, 417–21, 430–33, 435, 501, 564, 569, 574, 687, 700–701, 760n38, 767n257, 768n291 Justinian I, Roman Byzantine emperor, 462, 601–2, 613–25, 628–31, 633–36, 786n99, 787n112 Juvenal, patriarch of Jerusalem, 538 Juvenal, Roman satiric poet, 175 Kahana, Babylonian sage, 380 Kaleb Ella Asbeha, king of Ethiopia, 611–12 Kartir (Karter, Karder), leading zealot of the Mazdean religion, 376–77, 399 kashrut, kosher, dietary laws, 49, 175, 183, 223, 295, 302, 384, 418, 504, 523, 545, 571, 573, 680, 684, 757n437, 757n443 Kavad I, Sasanian king, 589–90, 596, 600, 602–3, 606–7, 609–10, 614–15, 786n73 Kavad Siroy, Sasanian king, 654 Khorenats‘i, Moses, Armenian historian, 477–78, 732n153 Khusrau I Anushirvan, Sasanian king, 603, 614–16, 619–22, 624, 626–28, 633–34, 636–37, 641 Khusrau II Parwez, Sasanian king, 635–37, 641–42, 645–56, 788n135 Khusro I, king of Armenia, 374 Kokhba. See Bar Kokhba Koran. See Qur’an Lactantius, Christian apologist, 396, 409, 563, 687 Latin: Jewish use of, 114, 149, 237, 630–31, 664, 667

Latin: Scripture translation in, 157, 340, 515–16, 562–63 Latin language, 2, 95, 172–73, 231, 289, 310, 354, 412, 423, 479, 538, 547, 565, 571, 599, 601, 604, 666, 687, 766n240 Leo I, bishop of Rome, 531, 537–39, 591 Leo I, Roman Byzantine emperor, 587–88, 595 Leontopolis, site in Nile Delta of Jewish temple of Onias IV, 53, 165, 256 Lepidus, triumvir, 136–38 Levi b. Sisi, colleague of Judah I, 360, 378 Levites, temple class, 39–40, 44, 48, 124, 176, 209, 227, 260, 291, 357, 575, 730n93, 749n228 Libanius of Antioch, famed Hellene rhetor, 481, 502–3, 517, 561 Liberius, bishop of Rome, 479–80, 496 Licinius, a Jew of North Africa, 781n287 Licinius, Valerius, co-emperor of Constantine, 397–98, 453–54, 547 Lilith, demoness of Jewish lore, 581–82 liturgy: Christian, 322, 434, 447–48, 521, 670–73 liturgy: Jewish, 293, 434, 440, 448, 630–31, 670–73, 687 Lombards, 635–36, 638–39, 647, 664 Lucian of Samosata, Greek rhetorician and satirist, 343 Lucifer of Cagliari (Calaris in Sardinia), anti-Arian bishop, 479, 499 Lydda (Lod), 137, 239, 262, 278–79, 356, 384, 410, 441, 465 Lysias, Syrian general, 108–10 Macarius, bishop of Aelia/Jerusalem, 461 Maccabees, legacy of, 1, 116, 118, 131, 161, 164, 175, 217, 258, 273–74, 406, 446, 504, 557, 561, 571, 573, 598 Maccabeus, etymology of, 108, 734–35n21 Macedonia, 42, 56–57, 63–65, 68–70, 143, 510 Macedonia, Christian presence in, 226, 244–45 Macedonia, Jewish presence in, 383 Machaerus, fortress of, 147, 242, 256 Macrinus of Mauretani, first equestrian emperor, 353 magi, Persian astrologers or priests, 35, 38, 77, 92, 139, 374, 377, 380–81, 399, 401, 482, 521–22, 541, 558, 598, 602–3, 622, 627, 673, 693 magic, Christian use of, 265, 326, 521, 560, 581–84

Index 827 magic, Jesus accused of, 194, 284, 344, 409, 437–38, 570, 576 magic, Jewish use of, 472, 489–90, 560, 581–84, 644, 680 magic and magicians, 89, 159, 221, 333, 353, 474, 548, 666, 745n95 Magnentius, usurper against Constans, 474, 479 Mahoza, Jewish city near Ctesiphon, 472, 488–91, 528, 609–10 Majorian, western Roman emperor, 588 Malalas, John, Christian chronographer, 222, 596, 631 Manasseh, brother of Jaddua the high priest, 61–62 Manasseh, king of Judah, 15–17, 49, 51, 162, 561 Mani, founder of Manichaeism, 376–77, 404, 483, 505 Manicheans, Manichaeism, 367, 376–77, 396, 399, 401, 501–2, 505, 516–17, 564, 566, 603–4 Mar bar Rav Ashi (Tabyomi), late Babylonian sage, 597 Marcian, Roman emperor (east), 530–31, 538, 544, 587–88, 590 Marcion and Marcionites, 346–47, 349, 364, 367–68, 376, 425, 431, 483, 505 Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor, 271, 331–33, 340–42, 345–46, 356, 474 Mari, disciple of the legendary Addai, 468 Mark Antony (Antonius, Marcus), triumvir, 136–43, 210 Martin of Tours, missionary monk, 498, 571 Martina, second queen of Heraclius, 648 martyrdom: Christian, 207, 234, 268–69, 311, 341, 352, 365–66, 387–90, 408–10, 431, 443, 453–54, 465, 467, 478, 522, 532, 560–61, 611, 622, 640, 668, 760n38 martyrdom: Jewish, 105, 107, 163, 193, 207, 234, 276, 281–82, 337, 356, 436–37, 504, 557, 561 Marutha, bishop of Maipherkat, 521–22, 568 Mary, mother of Jesus, 194, 205, 269, 300, 344, 435, 536, 572, 591, 644, 660, 664, 669, 674, 684. See also Virgin Mary Masada fortress, 137–38, 147, 236, 242, 256–57 Mattathias, father of Judas Maccabeus, 107–8, 116–17, 167, 274, 735n30 Matthias b. Ananus, high priest, 215 Matthias b. Theophilus, high priest, 235, 238

828 Vines Intertwined Maurice, Roman Byzantine emperor, 634–38, 641–43, 645, 647–48 Maxentius, rival of the Tetrachy, 397–98, 410, 453 Maximian, co-emperor of Diocletian, 392–93, 397–98 Maximin Thrax, Roman emperor, 370, 387, 389 Maximinus, Caesar under Galerius, 397–98, 411, 453 Maximus, bishop of Jerusalem, 461 Maximus, Magnus, usurper, 495 Maximus the Confessor, 657, 691 Maximux, bishop of Turin, 551 Mazdak and Mazdakism sect, 603, 607, 609, 620–22, 637 Mazdean, Mazdeanism, 3, 374–77, 380–81, 401, 478, 490, 522, 533, 597–98, 621 Media, 16, 54–55, 158, 206, 332, 367, 379, 552–53, 634 Meir, leading Tanna, 278, 282, 291, 327–28, 335–37, 339–40, 356, 419, 433, 663 Melchizedek, pre-Aaron high priest, 305, 418 Meletius, Nicene bishop of Antioch, 499–500, 503 Melito of Sardis, bishop and apologist, 344–46, 364, 443–47, 463 Melkites (“King’s men”), 591, 607, 665 Memphis, Egypt, 30, 35, 51–52, 59, 64, 67, 70, 74, 101 Menachem, a grandson of Judas the Galilean, 236 Menander, disciple of Simon Magnus, 285 Menelaus, usurper high priest, 103–7, 109–10 menorah, 39, 109, 150–51, 242, 250, 414, 616, 667–68 mercenaries, 49, 55–56, 58, 62, 70–72, 105, 108, 119, 122, 126, 511, 730n110 Merneptah, pharaoh of Egypt, 14 Mesrop Mashtots, Armenian missionary, 521 Messiah: Christian views, 227, 344, 365, 418–19, 430–31, 444, 482, 517, 557, 569–71 Messiah: early anticipation, 41, 138, 165–67 Messiah: Hellene critics of, 421–22 Messiah: Jewish believer views, 300, 304, 309, 312, 314–15, 317–18 Messiah: Jewish views, 167–71, 248, 291–92, 366, 381, 386, 419, 429, 432, 435, 438–39, 487–88, 551, 578–79 Messiah: suffering, 208, 419, 444, 570–71, 686

Messiahs, false, 171, 274–75, 292, 488, 597, 689 Messianic age, 229, 304, 381, 419, 429 Messianic anticipation, 255–56, 267–68, 270, 488, 490, 598, 649, 685–89, 691 Messianic figures, 200–208, 274–75, 404, 596–97, 697–98 Metatron, leading archangel, 282, 287, 574, 688, 691, 782n321 Mezuzah, 183 Mibtahiah of Elephantiné, 50 Michael, archangel, 88, 163, 170, 423, 552 Midrash, Scripture commentary, 280, 338, 427, 472, 485, 552, 563, 631, 658, 672, 676–77, 687 Mihr-Narseh, Zoroastrian priest, 532–33 mikveh, 193. See also baptism min, minim, 324–25, 359, 424, 428, 433, 573–74, 583–84, 672, 699, 758n469. See also, heretics, birkat ha-minim Minervina, first wife of Constantine I, 397, 460, 473 minyan, quorum of ten, 597, 672 Miriamme, Hasmonean wife of Herod, 138, 140, 142, 144, 152 Miriamme of Alexandria, wife of Herod, 152, 191 Mishnah, the, 150, 259, 262, 289–90, 293, 359–60, 378–79, 383, 404, 412, 434, 441, 446–49, 485, 528, 551, 563, 575, 577, 630–31, 663, 674, 685 mission and missionary, 85, 100, 114, 205, 208, 216, 225–29, 244, 246–47, 266, 295, 301–2, 305, 308, 316, 318–19, 340, 417, 431, 438–39, 454, 468, 481, 498, 501, 521, 534, 568, 572, 606, 622, 624–25, 639, 681, 684, 692, 698–99 Mithradates, a brother-in-law of Parthian Artabanus III, 190 Mithridates I, Parthian king, 113, 121 Mithridates II, Parthian king, 113, 122 Mithridates of Pergamum, 135 Moesia, Roman province, 143, 251, 397, 494–95 Monica, mother of Augustine, 515–16 Monophysite (Miaphysite), single nature of Jesus, 538, 540, 545, 590–91, 593–95, 600, 607–8, 611, 613–14, 622–27, 640–41, 649, 656, 665–66, 783n4 Montanus, 348–49, 376 Moses, Christian reference to, 344–45, 350, 365, 369, 418, 423–26, 437–39, 483, 503, 557–58, 561, 564, 571–72, 681 Moses, Hellenic reference to, 219, 343, 376, 406, 421, 475

Moses, Jewish reference to, 278, 286–87, 289, 293, 316, 318–19, 327, 340, 359–60, 381, 385, 401, 425–26, 553–54, 574–75, 580, 583 Moses, pseudo-messiah of Crete, 596–97 Moses, second temple reference to, 44, 61, 81–82, 102, 124, 157, 159, 164, 171, 175, 179, 181–82, 192, 194–96, 201, 204, 207, 228–29, 245–46, 302 Muhammad, 634, 657–61, 682, 689–90 Muslims, 2, 374–75, 622, 634, 657–62, 689, 691–92 Mysticism, 203, 282–83, 398, 566, 581, 688 Nabataea and Nabataeans, 116, 122, 129–30, 139, 141, 155, 191, 208, 275 Nabonidus, king of Babylon, 32–34 Nabopolassar, king of Babylon, 15–16, 18, 23 Nahman b. Isaac, head of Pumbedita school, 470, 490, 508, 573 Nahman b. Jacob, sage and judge in Nehardea, 404 Nahum, biblical prophet, 17–18, 93 Naples, Jewish presence in, 602, 617, 644, 664 Narsai, Christian poet, 540, 593, 608, 672 Narseh, Sasanian king, 399 Nathan, Babylonian emissary to patriarchal court, 338–39, 356, 528 Nathan II, exilarch, 509, 528 Nazarene, 205, 210, 215, 224–25, 237, 320, 326, 433, 436, 515, 571, 577, 579, 743n55, 769n300 Nazareth, 205, 294, 300, 320, 389, 433 Neapolis (modern Nablus), 239, 272, 344, 352, 655 Nebuchadrezzar, king of Babylon, 23–32, 43, 147, 747n163 Nebuzaradan, commander of Babylonian army, 25, 27 Necho II, king of Egypt, 19–20, 22–23, 552 Nehardea, in Babylonia, 190, 217, 265, 278, 338, 360, 372, 378–80, 401, 403–4, 508, 528, 760n25 Nehemiah, governor of Judah, 41, 43, 45–48, 51, 54, 74, 85–87, 94, 100, 117, 166, 693, 728n49 Nehemiah of Bet Deli, early Babylonian disciple of Pharisees, 217 Neriglissar, king of Babylon, 31–32 Nero, Roman emperor, 214, 223, 231–34, 236, 238–39, 242, 244, 247–50, 252, 267, 271, 311, 333–34, 337, 346, 355, 373, 454 Nerses, bishop of Armenia, 505

Index 829 Nerva, Roman emperor, 252–53, 273 Nestorians, 590, 593–94, 608, 619, 627, 649, 660, 665 Nestorius, patriarch of Constantinople, 535–37, 539–40, 591, 594, 605, 623 New Covenant, 83–84, 95, 117, 201, 205, 226–27, 229, 288, 301–2, 310, 314–15, 365, 420, 579, 670–71, 676 New Testament. See Scripture, New Testament Nicaea, Council of, 455–60, 465–66, 478, 560, 664 Nicanor, Syrian general of Maccabean Revolt, 108, 110, 414 Nicolaus of Damascus, Herod’s courtier and historian, 146, 153, 155 Nisibis, 113, 254–55, 352, 367, 399, 477, 532, 600, 603, 633, 637 Nisibis, Christians in, 367, 477, 483, 505, 539, 559, 593–94, 625, 627, 641 Nisibis, Jews in, 217, 335, 338, 360–61, 378, 559, 611 Noachian laws, 290–91, 302, 443, 675, 753n335 Noah, biblical patriarch, 88, 161, 164–65, 290, 365, 413, 418 Novatian, rival bishop of Rome, 388–89 Octavia, daughter of Claudius, wife of Nero, 214, 231–32 Octavia, sister of Octavian, wife of Mark Antony, 138–40, 210 Octavian (Caesar Augustus), 136–42, 146, 217, 761n60 Odaenathus, king of Palmyra, 372 Odoacer, first barbarian king of the West, 588–89, 592 Olympias, mother of Alexander the Great, 56–57, 64 Omri, king of Israel, 14 Onias, Jewish general under Ptolemy VI, 113 Onias I, high priest, 72 Onias II, high priest allied with Tobiads, 72–75, 100 Onias III, son of Simon II, 72, 101–4, 116–17, 167 Onias IV, son of Onias III, deposed high priest, 105, 114, 116–17, 135, 256 Onkelos, rabbinic Gentile, identified as a nephew of Emperor Titus, 579 Orestes, father of Romulus, last Roman king, 588 Orestes, governor of Alexandria, 526–27

830 Vines Intertwined Origen, 95, 344, 357, 364, 366, 368, 383, 387, 389–90, 405, 412, 417, 422–26, 435–36, 447, 458, 460, 466–67, 514, 517, 536, 555, 558, 565, 569, 574–75, 674, 687, 748n187, 761n75, 781n278 Origen, legacy of, 517–19, 534–35, 563, 566–67 Orosius, Christian historian, 225, 512 Osroes (Khusrau) king of Parthia, 253–56, 272 Otho, Roman emperor, 231, 239–40, 250 Pacorus, Parthian king, 137–38 Palatine cross, 414 Palestine, Christian population of, 389–90, 417, 423, 428, 433, 435, 460, 462, 465, 484, 486, 524, 538, 549, 651, 665, 683 Palestine, Diaspora relations with, 127, 217, 255, 264, 298, 312, 336, 338–40, 360–62, 378, 380, 401–3, 421, 428, 485, 489, 508, 557, 598, 632, 667 Palestine, Gentiles (Greeks, Syrians, Romans) of, 109, 144, 155, 257, 358 Palestine, name of, 14, 276, 544 Palladius, first bishop of Ireland, 534 Palmyra, the “city of palms,” 372, 401 Pamphilus of Caesarea, 400, 409, 427, 466 Panias (Caesarea Philippi), 71, 147, 153, 155, 357, 386, 392, 399 Pannonia, 143, 187, 354, 371, 373, 392, 397, 465, 474, 498, 511, 636 Papa bar Aggai, bishop of SeleuciaCtesiphon, 468 Papa bar Hanan, rabbi of Naresh, 509, 580 Papias, bishop of Hieropolis, 284, 435 Paradise, 89, 261, 690 Paradise, the four who entered, 283, 688 Parmenio, general under Philip and Alexander, 58, 60 Parthia, Christians of, 367, 414–15 Parthia, Jews of, 151, 189–90, 206, 216, 291, 338–39, 361–62, 377–78, 380–81, 414–15 Parthia, Roman conflicts with, 129–30, 134, 137–39, 143–44, 187, 211, 214, 231, 253–56, 272, 332–33, 351–53 Parthia and Parthians, 70, 99, 108, 113, 121–22, 127, 189, 311, 355, 358, 373, 375, 690 Passover, Feast of (Pesach, Pascha), 18, 40, 51–52, 93, 151, 154, 156, 194, 199, 201–3, 205, 211, 215, 217, 223, 240, 245–46, 303, 342, 568, 577, 610 Passover, observance and controversy, 303, 367, 439–49, 458, 464, 476, 490, 504,

557–58, 560, 565, 630, 673, 770n323, 770n324, 770n325 Passover Seder (Haggadah), 441–42, 445–48 patriarchate, 262, 264, 277, 338–40, 351, 353, 356–60, 383, 386, 401, 483, 504, 507–8, 522–24, 542–44. See also exliarchate Patricius, rebel leader of Jews, 474, 773n52 Patrick, missionary to Ireland, 534 Paul, legacy of, 297, 321, 323–24, 340, 346–47, 398, 404, 406, 417, 419–20, 426–27, 429–31, 433–39, 441, 445, 449, 459–60, 463, 476, 499, 512, 516, 560, 564, 567, 572, 577, 671, 680, 685, 697 Paul of Tarsus, apostle, 5, 203, 205, 207–10, 215, 217, 224–30, 234, 244–49, 260, 267–68, 299–300, 302–19, 745n108, 746n119, 755n389, 757n436, 757n437, 781n294 Paulinus, Nicene bishop of Antioch, 499–500, 515 Pelagius, British monk, 517, 519–20, 534 Pelagius I, pope, 624 Pelagius II, pope, 638 Pella, in Peraea, 127, 237, 274, 284, 747n153 Pentecost, 180, 206, 349, 463, 595, 673, 683 Peraea, district on east bank of Jordan river, 147, 152–55, 212, 223, 237, 239, 275 Perdiccas, one of the Diadochi, 63–64 Peroz, Sasanian king, 541, 589–90, 593–94, 597–98 Pertinax, Roman emperor, 334 Peter, apostle, 197, 204–7, 209–10, 215–16, 224–28, 247–48, 260, 312 Peter, legacy of, 275, 284, 304, 306, 311, 315–17, 246, 436–38, 442, 463, 498–99, 512, 538–39, 541, 568, 624, 639, 667, 685 Peter of Cagliari, baptized Jew, 644 Petronius, governor of Syria under Caligula, 215, 221–22 Phannias son of Samuel, last high priest, 239 Pharisees, 116–18, 123–24, 126–28, 130, 138–39, 147–48, 151–52, 169, 177–78, 180, 182, 184, 217, 234, 236, 242–43, 246, 248–49, 292–93, 311 Pharisees and Jesus, 194–99, 201, 207–8, 215 Pharisees and rabbinic movement, 258–59, 262, 289, 324, 338, 576, 580 Pharisees and the Apostolic church, 229, 301, 304, 308, 315–20

Pharisees in the Christian tradition, 366, 663 Phasael, brother of Herod, 136–37 Philip, tetrarch, 152–53, 155 Philip II, king of Macedonia, 56–58, 63 Philip III Arrhidaeus, half-brother of Alexander the Great, 63–64 Philip V, king of Macedonia, 70, 99, 101, 191 Philip the Arab, Roman emperor, 370–71 Philip the Evangelist, 206–7 Philo of Alexandria, historical figure, 210–11, 218–23 Philo of Alexandria, legacy of, 363–64, 423–24, 426, 434, 467, 497, 517, 565–68 Philo of Alexandria, selected opinions, 157, 175, 178, 180, 188, 192, 229, 258, 260, 278–79, 284, 290–91, 295–98, 312, 319, 390, 419, 440, 444, 530, 550, 676 Philostorgius, Arian historian, 481–82 Philostratus, Flavius, author, 355 Philoxenus, bishop of Mabbug, 607–8 Phocas, usurper emperor, 636, 647–48, 651, 656 phylacteries. See tefillin pilgrimage feasts, 44, 93, 151, 180–81, 183, 323, 440, 559, 560. See also Passover, Sukkot, Shavuot pilgrims: Christian, 460–62, 469, 515, 539, 549, 572, 634, 667, 669 pilgrims: Jewish, 22, 28, 51, 93, 148–49, 154, 156–57, 180–81, 206, 223–24, 340, 401, 440, 469, 549 pilgrims: Muslim, 660 Pionius, elder in Smyrna, 388 Plato, 42, 76–77, 135, 344, 368, 421, 423, 517, 565–66, 614 Pliny the Elder, 113, 147, 178, 212, 219, 251 Pliny the Younger, 269–70, 308, 322 Plotinus, middle platonist, 405, 407, 497 Plutarch, Roman biographer and author, 135, 423 Pollion (Abtalion), leading Pharisee under Herod, 138–39, 177, 259 Polycarp, 268, 284, 340–42, 349, 388, 442–43, 445 Pompey, Roman general, 130–31, 134–36, 168, 173, 258, 751n285 Pontius Pilate, Prefect of Judaea, 192–95, 201–2, 211, 269, 578, 684 Popillius Laenas, head of the Roman embassy to Alexandria, 104 Poppea Sabina, wife of Otho and Nero, 231–34

Index 831 Porphyry, Hellene critic of Christianity, 405–7, 467, 475, 497, 501 Pothinus, bishop of Lyons, 340, 342, 349 prayer: biblical and Jewish Second Temple, 25, 31–32, 40, 49, 52, 90, 94, 108, 136, 150, 158, 161, 163, 168, 174, 179–80, 183, 191, 200, 207, 211, 248, 288, 440, 671 prayer: Christian, 298, 305, 323, 333, 365, 407–8, 411, 421, 434, 482, 505, 516, 521, 533–34, 538, 541, 556, 561, 573, 581, 583, 628, 638, 641, 649, 651–52, 669, 671, 673, 681–82 prayer: Gentile, 69, 211, 254, 333, 548 prayer: Jewish, post temple, 259, 264, 288, 292, 294, 298, 302, 305, 324, 359–60, 396, 403, 421, 434, 446, 487, 489, 524, 550, 553, 560, 562, 581–83, 597–98, 661, 667, 671–72 presbyters (elders), 470–71. See also council presbyters in the church, 247, 284, 305–6, 308, 455, 498, 507–8, 516, 606, 625–26 presbyters in the synagogue, 294, 508, 523–24 Priests, Court of. See courts of Herod’s temple priests, Gentile, 11, 33, 51–52, 60, 353, 372–73, 375, 388, 411, 475–76, 511, 532 priests, kingdom of, 118, 177, 528, 740n193 priests in Christian tradition, 343, 593, 604, 625 priests of Israel, 17, 22, 24, 40, 44, 51, 61, 82, 89–90, 94, 100, 103, 105, 118, 120, 130–31, 148, 150, 167, 170–72, 176–77, 179–80, 182, 197, 200–202, 208, 234, 258–62, 279, 286, 293, 297, 357, 438, 470–71, 487–88, 611, 658. See also high priest Prisca, wife of Aquila of Pontus, 245, 307 Procopius of Caesarea, military advisor and historian, 547, 595, 614–18, 630 prophecy: biblical, 22, 25, 27, 41, 53, 60–61, 84 prophecy: Christian views, 306–7, 310, 346, 349, 408, 426, 429–30, 463, 488, 564–65, 596, 676, 681, 691, 743n53, 756n397 prophecy: Gentile oracles, 57, 59, 64. See also divination prophecy: Jewish views, 378, 386, 429, 551, 578–79, 597, 617, 676, 685, 774n67 prophecy: messianic, 166–67, 204–5, 268, 300, 309, 418–19, 685, 687 prophets: biblical era, 16–17, 20–26, 33, 39, 46–47, 53, 76, 82–86. See also individual prophets

832 Vines Intertwined prophets: post second temple, 359, 376, 488, 658–60 prophets: second temple, 93, 109, 120–21, 123, 161, 169, 171, 176, 192–95, 200, 203–4, 223, 233, 235, 287, 293, 304–6, 313 proselytism among Christians, 267, 421, 621–22, 627–28. See also mission and missionary proselytism among Jews, 40, 149, 173, 184, 189, 206, 208, 227, 237, 239, 272, 278, 282, 295, 297, 334–35, 421, 430, 436, 470, 544, 611, 671, 675, 678, 698, 754n364, 754n369, 757n436 prostitution, 17, 196, 391, 600 Protagoras, 42 providence: Christian views, 418, 519–20, 533, 552, 564, 700 providence: Jewish views, 116–17, 177, 184, 204, 218, 227, 238, 383, 418, 552, 700 providence (Fate): Gentile views, 78, 184, 210, 368, 396 prozbul (prosbul), 289 Psamtik I, king of Egypt, 15–16, 18–19, 51, 730n110 Psamtik II, king of Egypt, 24 Pseudepigrapha, collection of Jewish writings, 434, 463, 467, 698 Ptolemy, Jewish governor of Jericho, 122 Ptolemy I Soter, one of the Diadochi, 63–68, 71–72, 105, 751n285 Ptolemy II Philadelphus, king of Egypt, 67, 69, 72–73, 76, 160, 530, 778n196 Ptolemy III Euergetes, king of Egypt, 69–70, 74, 94, 220 Ptolemy IV Philopater, king of Egypt, 70–71 Ptolemy V Epiphanes, king of Egypt, 70–71, 101 Ptolemy VI Philometor, king of Egypt, 103–5, 112–13, 116, 118–19, 165 Ptolemy VII Neos Philopator, king of Egypt, 112–14, 165 Ptolemy VIII Physcon, king of Egypt, 104, 112–14, 165 Ptolemy IX Lathyrus, king of Egypt, 112, 114, 123, 125–26 Ptolemy X Alexander I, king of Egypt, 112 Ptolemy XII Aueletes, king of Egypt, 134–35 Ptolemy XIII, child king of Egypt, 135 Pulcheria, sister of Theodosius II, 530, 538, 544 Pumbedita, city of rabbinic school, 401, 403–4, 471–72, 489–90, 508, 545, 597, 632

Purim, 114, 524 purity and impurity, ritual, 40, 44–45, 48, 52, 150, 174, 179, 183, 197, 218, 243, 263, 288, 292–93, 298, 301, 318, 357, 359, 400, 415, 504 Pyrrhon of Elis, 77 Pythagoras, Pythagorean, 42, 355, 364, 517, 568 Qohelet of Jerusalem, 92–93, 695 Queen of Heaven, 29–30, 50 Quietus, Lusius, Roman general in Diaspora revolt, governor of Judaea, 255 Quirinius, Sulpicius, governor of Syria, 156 Qumran, 117–18, 124, 170–71, 178–79, 260, 292–93, 312–13, 319, 435, 445, 674 Qur’an, 611, 634, 718 Rabbah b. Nahmani, leader of Pumbedita academy, 359, 471–72 Rabbah b. Rav Huna, leader of Sura academy, 403 Rameses II, 14 Rameses III, 14 Raphael, archangel, 89, 158–59, 170 Rav (Abba Arikha), leading Babylonian sage, 377–81, 384–85, 402–3, 416, 429, 672, 685 Rava bar Joseph b. Hama, leading Babylonian sage, 472, 484, 489–90, 508–9, 528, 580, 582 Ravina I, collaborator on Talmud, 528, 597 Ravina II, collaborator on Talmud, 528, 597, 609 Ricimer, Flavius, Gothic Roman minister, 587–88 rituals: biblical era, 2, 16–17, 40–41, 52–53, 83, 156, 184. See also purity rituals: Christian, 303–4, 324, 342, 345, 418, 446–47, 455, 641, 667, 670, 672–73, 760n45 rituals: Gentile, 172, 254, 269–70, 469, 621 rituals: Jewish, 106, 116, 156, 159, 179–80, 260, 262, 295, 301–3, 318, 380, 440, 445–47, 550, 557, 577, 667, 670–71 Rome (city), early Christian presence, 249, 252, 266, 309, 311 Rome (city), Jewish presence, 136, 155, 174, 188, 211, 225, 264, 311, 366, 421, 440 Roxane, Bactrian queen of Alexander the Great, 62–63, 65 Rufus, Tineius, governor of Judaea, 273, 275

sabbath: Christian views, 285, 316, 321–22, 430, 434, 504, 564, 571, 606, 671, 686. See also Sunday sabbath: conflicts, 48, 65, 103, 105–7, 131, 151, 189–90, 196–98, 219, 235–36, 264–65, 276, 280, 302, 317–18, 321–24, 362, 366, 399, 418, 422, 436, 504, 556, 560, 571, 597–98, 684 sabbath: Jewish observance, 2, 31, 48–50, 65, 93–94, 103, 105–7, 114, 151, 174–76, 181, 183, 218, 264–65, 280, 285, 289–90, 194, 301–2, 316–18, 322–23, 337, 359, 363, 381, 446, 464, 472, 490, 525–26, 557, 559, 562, 565, 573, 606, 671–72, 762n100 Sabrisho, patriarch of Ctesiphon, 642 sacrifice, infant, 342, 561 sacrifices: Christian views, 226, 322, 385, 430, 437–39, 475–76 sacrifices: Hellene religions, 58–60, 63, 65, 103, 107, 221, 317, 341, 345, 371, 388, 396–97, 408–11, 454, 548, 561, 629, 693 sacrifices: Jewish practice, 39–40, 44, 51–54, 93, 99, 101, 105, 109, 122, 126, 131, 150, 154, 163, 172, 174, 179–81, 211, 215, 217, 221, 235–36, 241, 292, 396, 423, 440, 650 sacrifices: Jewish views, 89–90, 160, 164–65, 172, 174, 180–81, 195–96, 199–200, 226, 260, 303, 437–39, 440–42, 481, 487, 578–79 Sadducees, 116–18, 123–24, 128, 130, 176–77, 182, 184, 196, 199, 206, 215, 234, 243, 246, 249, 258–59, 282, 293, 324–25, 417, 630, 664 Salome, daughter of Herodias, 155 Salome, sister of Herod, 140, 153–54, 191, 258 Salome Alexandra, Hasmonean queen, 125, 127–30, 150, 168 Salvian of Marseille, 592–93 Sama bar Rava leader at Pumbedita, 597 Samaias, leading Pharisee under Herod, 136, 138–39, 177, 259 Samaria: city. See also Sebaste, 14, 40, 45, 59, 123, 125, 144, 207, 239 Samaria: region of Palestine, 16, 18–19, 50, 53, 59, 61–62, 66, 74, 101, 118–19, 142, 147, 155–56, 181, 207, 214, 224, 272, 344, 417, 544 Samarians, 40, 181 Samaritans, 43, 48, 59–62, 74, 108, 122–23, 152, 155–57, 181, 192, 223–24, 272, 275, 285, 297, 352, 400, 436, 438, 440, 484, 507, 544, 554, 595–96, 614, 628–32,

Index 833 642–43, 649, 657, 660–61, 665–67, 689, 729n79 Samuel, Mar, leading Babylonian sage, 362, 378–79, 381–85, 401–4, 416, 485, 672 Samuel ha-Katan, 324–25 Sanballat (II), governor of Samaria, 61–62 Sanballat the Horonite, governor of Samaria, 45–48, 53, 61, 73 Sanhedrin, literary fiction from reality, 262. See Council Sargon II, 14, 16, 181, 741n209 Sargon of Akkad, 11 Sarmatians, 251–52, 332, 392 Satan, 39, 91, 164, 175, 198, 268, 326, 390, 505, 581, 670, 729n77 Satan, synagogue of, 268, 309, 562–63 satire, 42, 175, 231, 310, 343 Saturninus, proconsul of North Africa, 151, 252, 285 scribes, professional guild, 18, 21–22, 80, 83–84, 94, 100, 118, 154, 177, 194–96, 198–99, 201, 318–19, 343, 426, 545, 580, 663, 684 Scripture: Hebrew, 14, 80, 84–86, 94–95, 124, 166, 195, 198, 202, 204–5, 208, 218, 226, 235, 240, 243–44, 248, 260, 264–65, 278–80, 283, 287, 289, 306, 310, 321, 326, 328, 337, 340, 344–47, 349, 362–63, 367, 381, 390–91, 405, 408–9, 418–21, 423, 425–29, 431, 435, 438, 443, 448, 462–63, 466, 480, 482–83, 506, 509, 514, 517–18, 520, 530, 534–35, 551, 556, 557–59, 562, 564–67, 569–71, 574–75, 577–80, 593, 616, 630, 658, 676, 680–81, 690, 701, 750n241, 772n24 Scripture: New Testament, 340, 349, 365, 391, 405, 408–9, 416, 462–63, 466, 480, 482, 500, 506, 514, 517–18, 520, 530, 534–35, 556, 658–59 Scythopolis (Beth Shean), 102, 119, 123, 125–26, 155, 357, 386, 465, 486, 667 Sebaste, 144, 152, 155, 207, 272, 465, 499. See also Samaria (city) Sebeos, unknown Armenian historian, 649–50, 655, 657, 689 sects and sectarians, 48, 124, 207, 225, 232, 311, 315, 323–24, 364, 366, 376, 387, 296, 433, 439, 470, 542, 544, 567, 736n55. See also, Ebionites, Elkesaites, Essenes, Pharisees, Sadducees, Therapeutae Sejanus, Aelius, 188, 191–92, 211 Seleucia-on-the-Tigris (Seleucia-Ctesiphon), 70, 113, 190, 332, 352, 374. See also Ctesiphon

834 Vines Intertwined Seleucus I Nicator, head of Seleucid dynasty, 64–66, 68–69, 90, 414 Seleucus II Callinicus, 69–70 Seleucus III Ceraunus, 70–71 Seleucus IV, son of Antiochus III, 101–2, 110 Seneca the Younger, 212, 214, 231–33, 311, 554 Sennacherib, king of Assyria, 15 Sepphoris (Diocaesarea), 131, 154–55, 238, 272–73, 315, 326, 335–36, 356–58, 383–86, 400–401, 465, 471, 474, 506, 552, 773n52 Septuagint (lxx), Greek translation of Hebrew scripture, 94–95, 160, 205, 218, 225, 278–79, 296, 307, 390, 419, 426, 547, 562–63, 569, 574, 630, 728n67, 734n211, 755n377, 778n196, 782n317 Seraiah the scribe, 25–26 Serapis, Serapeum, 67, 353, 412, 502, 507–8, 548 Sergius, patriarch of Constantinople, 648, 652, 654, 656–57, 662 Seriah, last high priest before exile, 39 Severinus, the apostle of Austria, 592, 657 Severus, bishop of Minorca, 550, 572–73 Severus, Caesar under Constantius, 397–98 Severus, patriarch of Antioch, 607–8, 624 Severus, Septimius, Roman emperor, 351–53, 355, 367, 389, 455, 462, 498 Severus Alexander. See Alexander Severus Shahin, Sasanian general under Khusrau II, 651 Shahrvaraz, Sasanian general under Khusrau II, 649, 652–55 Shaphan the scribe, 21 Shapur I, Sasanian king, 370, 372, 374, 376, 381–82, 399, 401, 415–16 Shapur II, Sasanian king, 464, 468, 471–72, 476–78, 482–83, 488–91, 493, 495–96, 499, 505, 508–9, 513, 521 Shapur III, Sasanian king, 496 Shavuot, 93, 154, 183, 323, 673 Shema, 183, 281–82, 298, 309, 576, 597, 630, 672, 741n213 Sheshbazzar, governor of Judah, 34, 38 Sheshet, 401, 404 Shila, Persian catholicos, 607, 626 Shila, rabbi founder of Nehardea school, 360, 379–80 Shirin, Christian wife of Khusrau II, 635, 642, 650–51 Sibylline Oracles, 161, 164–65, 392 Sibyls, oracles, 164–65, 173, 276, 741n13

sicarii, 233–34, 236, 239, 256, 746n134 Sidon, 24, 56, 58, 60, 146, 191, 237 Simeon b. Abba, Babylonian immigrant to Palestine, 401 Simeon b. Azzai. See Ben Azzai Simeon b. Gamaliel II, 336, 338–39, 356 Simeon b. Gamaliel the Elder, 239, 242, 259 Simeon b. Halafta, a gifted preacher, colleague of Judah I, 360, 449 Simeon b. Lakish (Resh Lakish), leading rabbi of Palestine, 383–84 Simeon b. Manasseh, member of “the holy brotherhood,” 360 Simeon b. Sabba’e, bishop of SeleuciaCtesiphon, 468, 482 Simeon b. Shetah, sage of the Pharisees under Jannaeus, 127, 198, 576 Simeon b. Yohai, 274, 278, 335–37, 356, 449, 691 Simeon b. Zoma. See Ben Zoma Simeon Stylites, pillar ascetic, 539 Simlai, sage of Palestine, 423–25 Simon I, high priest, 61, 72–73 Simon II, high priest, 72, 100–101, 160 Simon b. Kosiba, 274, 292. See also Bar Kokhba Simon bar Giora, Zealot leader, 238–39, 242 Simon Magus, 207, 285, 436 Simon of Cyrene, Jew compelled to carry cross of Jesus, 348 Simon Peter. See Peter the apostle Simon the Benjaminite, 101–3 Simon the Essene, 198 Simon the Hasmonean, 94, 107, 111, 116–17, 119–22, 130, 258 slavery from war and raids, 487, 531, 534, 598, 617, 638, 644 slavery regulation, 484, 542–44, 604–5, 629, 644–45, 678–80 slaves and slavery, 3, 31, 43, 49, 57, 59, 72, 100, 108, 112, 130, 134, 137, 143, 154, 156, 173–74, 217, 219, 223, 228, 232–34, 239, 242, 245, 299, 304, 334, 366, 374, 415, 422, 448–49, 464, 470, 481, 484, 487, 531, 534, 542–44, 598, 604–5, 608, 617, 629, 635, 638, 644–45, 667–68, 678–80 Slavs, 600, 619, 635–36, 652, 654 Socrates, 42, 55, 76–77, 80–81, 90–91, 413, 476 Socrates Scholasticus, 480, 494–95, 526, 529 soldiers, Christian, 333, 396, 408, 498, 610, 624

soldiers, Jewish, 55, 62, 66, 110, 126, 135, 153–54, 189, 257, 333, 386, 412, 609–10 Solomon, king of Israel, 14, 18, 20, 39, 49, 86–87, 91–92, 117, 148–49, 157, 165–67, 174, 242, 276, 425, 429, 488, 549, 552, 581, 630, 661, 730n95 Son of Man, 163, 167, 170–71, 298–99, 310, 427, 439, 537, 691, 747n140 Song of Songs, book of, 86, 265, 283, 425, 489, 574 Sophronius, patriarch of Jerusalem, 656, 661, 691 Soshandukht, daughter of the exilarch, reputed mother of Bahram V, 527 Sosius, governor of Syria, 138 soul, element of human nature, 78, 168, 179, 193, 199, 280, 282, 288, 297, 359, 368, 376, 404–6, 428, 474, 476, 487, 499, 518, 535, 538, 548, 554, 561, 604, 614, 743n35 Sozomen, Christian historian, 461–62, 480, 482, 505, 529, 555 Spain, 99, 112, 239, 245, 247, 272, 371, 473, 494, 588, 616, 619 Spain, Christians of, 349, 410, 464, 512, 572, 664, 679–80 Spain, Jews of, 174, 217, 255–56, 361, 497, 572, 664, 692–93 Stilicho, Vandal Roman minister, 495, 510–11, 523, 525 Suetonius, historian, 225, 233, 250, 252 Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles), 44, 93, 126, 140, 183, 275, 414, 673–74 sun worship and Sol Invictus, religion of Sun God, 42, 53, 90, 179, 353–54, 372, 398, 423, 454, 458, 476, 548, 667, 647 Sunday, 322–24, 447–48, 454, 458, 652, 671, 673, 678 Sura, city of a rabbinic school, 379, 401–3, 446, 509, 527–28, 545, 597, 609, 632 Symmachus, Aurelius, Roman orator, 501 Symmachus, Jewish lawyer of Theoderic the Great, 601 Symmachus, pope, 605 synagogue, 94, 114, 169, 195, 207, 244, 301, 323, 354–55, 383, 404, 423, 544, 549, 610, 663 synagogue: art and architecture, 183, 414–16, 544, 550, 581, 608–9, 666–67 synagogue: conflicts and laws, 215, 235, 366, 523–25, 601, 611, 631, 643–44 synagogue: liturgy and leaders, 293–94, 358, 400, 471, 508, 560, 572, 630–31, 671–72, 687, 689

Index 835 synagogue in relation to Christians, 225, 245, 260, 305–7, 317, 362, 434, 439, 444, 504, 506–7, 525, 560–64, 573, 606, 671–72, 675–77, 682–83, 700, 745n108 Syriac language, 168, 350, 367, 412, 506, 538–40, 562, 591, 599, 608 Tabernacles, Feast of. See Sukkot Tacitus, historian, 210, 231–33, 241 Tacitus, Roman emperor, 372 Talmud (significant views only), 261, 265, 297, 327–29, 431, 449, 472, 483–85, 490, 509, 528, 551–53, 575–77, 579, 597–98, 609, 668 talmuds, compilation of, 485, 490, 509, 528, 575, 597, 609 Tanhuma b. Abba, sage of Palestine, 486 Tannaim, Mishnah sages, 264, 277, 291, 336, 338, 340, 359, 379, 404, 448, 552, 577, 663 Tarfon, leading Tanna, 277, 279–80, 336, 663, 685 Targums (paraphrase of Scripture), 94–95, 685 Tatian, 350, 364, 367, 416 tax, temple, 183, 217, 244, 250, 252–53, 301, 303. See also fiscus Iudaicus tax gatherers, 68, 131, 196, 272, 401, 403, 678 taxes, Christian response to, 478, 482 taxes, Jewish response to, 193, 301, 303, 380, 382, 385, 471, 488–90, 543 taxes, patriarchal authority for, 357–58, 382, 487, 523–24, 543 taxes: Herodian, 144, 147, 151, 154 taxes: imperial, 46–47, 68, 74–75, 99–100, 122, 131, 134, 136, 156, 192, 215, 250–53, 289, 333, 353, 372, 378, 385–86, 393, 428, 478, 492, 503, 529, 543, 600, 614, 620, 633, 642, 661, 682, 691–92, 731n135, 751n285. See also tribute, annona Teacher of Righteousness, 116–17, 313 tefillin (phylacteries), 183, 275, 302, 319 temple, second temple, 34, 39–44, 48, 148–51, 235, 239–42 temple at Elephantiné, 49–53 temple at Leontopolis, 53, 165, 256 temple of Solomon, 16–18, 21–24, 26–27 temple restrictions and conflicts, 100–107, 130–31, 134, 153–54, 156–57, 194, 199–202 temple on Mount Gerizim, Samaritan, 62, 122, 181 temples, Gentile, 30, 32–33, 52, 58, 62, 67, 69, 101, 103–4, 126, 142–44, 146, 155, 187

836 Vines Intertwined Tertullian, 172, 364–65, 387, 391, 406, 413, 430–31, 433, 435, 448, 501, 514, 533, 537, 547, 551, 563–64 Testament. See Covenant tetrarchy: imperial government under Diocletian, 392, 398 tetrarchy: political region, 147, 155, 212 theaters, 134, 143–44, 146, 187, 215–16, 218, 220–21, 318, 421, 423, 504, 526, 560, 563. See also amphitheater theocracy, 286–87, 607, 735n32 Theodahat, nephew and successor of Theoderic, 617 Theoderic (the Amal) the Great, 589, 600–602, 604–5, 609, 616–17 Theodora, empress of Justinian, 613–16, 619, 623–26 Theodora, second wife of Constantius I, 393, 473 Theodore of Mopsuestia, 506, 514, 517, 520, 535, 540, 567, 593–94, 623, 627, 641–42 Theodoret of Cyrrhus, Christian theologian and historian, 495, 522, 536, 540–42, 623 Theodorus, Jewish leader of Minorca, 572–73 Theodosius, Monophysite patriarch of Alexandria, 624–26 Theodosius, son of Maurice, 636, 647 Theodosius I, Roman emperor, 461, 493– 96, 500–504, 506–7, 510, 546, 548, 550 Theodosius II, Roman emperor, 513, 521–22, 524–25, 529–32, 535–36, 538, 540–41, 543–44, 601, 603, 614 Theodosius the Elder, father of Theodosius I, 493 Theodotos inscription, 294 Theophanes Confessor, Byzantine chronographer, 631, 655, 660, 786n73 Theophilus, patriarch of Alexandria, 502, 514, 517–18 Theophylact Simocatta, court official and historian, 645, 647 Therapeutae, Jewish monastic movement in Alexandria, 178, 180, 363, 404, 567–68, 674 Theudas, Judaean rebel, 223, 293 Tiberias, city of Galilee, 190–91, 222, 238, 272–73, 315, 335, 337, 358, 361, 382, 384–85, 399, 465, 471, 485–86, 544, 583, 611, 646, 649, 655, 665, 773n52 Tiberius, Roman emperor, 146, 155, 157, 187–92, 195, 210–11, 219–20, 258 Tiberius II, Roman Byzantine emperor, 633–35, 641–42

Tiberius Alexander, nephew of Philo, 210, 223, 237, 240, 255 Tigranes II, king of Armenia, 127–28, 130 Timothy, companion of Paul, 245, 297, 302, 314, 346, 564 Timothy III, patriarch of Alexandria, 608 Timothy Ailouros, patriarch of Alexandria, 590 Tineius Rufus, governor of Judaea, 273, 275 Tiridates I, king of Armenia, 231 Tiridates II, king of Armenia, 392–93 Tiridates III, king of Armenia, 393, 399, 468 tithes, 48, 173, 301, 359, 487 Titus, Gentile colleague of Paul, 227, 245 Titus, Roman emperor, 238–42, 251, 317, 527, 553–54, 579, 747n162, 780n255 Titus Arch, 151, 414 Tobiads, 47, 73–75, 100. See also Joseph the Tobiad Tobiah the Ammonite, 46–48, 73–74 Tobit, Book of, 158–59, 184, 572, 610 Torah, disputes over, 424–26, 554, 572–73, 584 Torah, instruction of Yahweh or Moses, 22, 44, 54, 81–84, 86, 93–95, 100, 106, 118, 124, 137, 151–52, 176–78, 183–84, 217–18, 223, 235, 259–61, 263–65, 293, 297, 301–2, 325, 336, 558, 627, 667, 672–73, 675–76, 688, 700, 729n92, 730n96, 733n178, 736n55, 742n20, 770n325, 782n326 Torah, Jesus and, 194–99, 201–2, 205–6, 208, 301–2, 670 Torah, oral, 81, 177, 264, 277, 283, 289, 379, 426, 471, 557, 574–76, 580, 597 Torah, Samaritan, 181 Torah: Christian views, 418, 554 Torah: Gnostic views, 285 Torah: Jewish believers views, 227, 229, 246, 248, 303, 326, 434, 439, 449, 697 Torah: rabbinic views, 278, 280, 282–83, 289–91, 293, 319, 336–37, 339, 356, 359, 362, 378–79, 384, 401–3, 424, 545, 580 Torah ark, 581, 667 Torah banned, 106, 276, 281–82 Torah scroll, 106, 223, 235, 294, 401, 416, 554 Tosefta, 359, 440–41, 449, 753n339 Trajan (Marcus Ulpius Traianus), Roman emperor, 253–56, 262, 267–73, 275, 283, 320, 327, 341, 354, 372, 387, 414, 416, 476 tribes, the ten lost, 113, 127, 159, 174

tribes, the twelve, 14, 34, 40, 82–83, 160, 168, 181, 229, 284, 310 tribute: exemption granted by Julius Caesar, 135 tribute: Gentile, 70, 74, 101, 137, 600, 603, 635 tribute: Gentiles to God of Jews, 172 tribute: Jews to Gentiles, 20, 30, 60–61, 68, 75, 99, 102–3, 119–20, 122, 131, 235, 285–86. See also taxes trinity, doctrine of, 424–25, 458, 517, 534, 566, 591, 600, 611, 660, 693 Trypho, Justin Martyr’s literary Jew, 327, 344–45, 417–22, 569, 700–701 Tryphon, usurper against Demetrius II, 119–21 Turbo, Macius, Roman general in Diaspora revolt, 255–56 Twelfth Fulminata (Thundering) Legion, 333 Tyre, city of Phoenicia, 23–24, 58–60, 62, 64, 70, 103, 137, 361, 400, 466, 629, 651 Ukba I, exilarch, 377–79 Ukba II, exilarch, 402 Ukba III, exilarch, 403 Ulfila, 481–82, 494, 601 Umar ibn al-Khattib, caliph, 661, 683 universalism, 85, 161, 164, 518 Unleavened Bread, Feast of, 52, 323, 440–41, 448, 560, 565, 610 unleavened bread, ritual, 448, 558–59, 677 Ursinus, rival bishop of Rome, 496–97 Usha, town of Galilee, 336–37, 356 Valens, Roman emperor, 492–94, 498–500, 505–6, 512, 523, 547 Valentinian I, Roman emperor, 492–93, 496–98, 507, 523 Valentinian II, Roman emperor, 493–95, 497, 501 Valentinian III, Roman emperor, 512, 529–31, 543, 587–88 Valentinus, early Gnostic, 347, 389 Valerian, Roman emperor, 371, 389–901 Varro, Marcus Terentius, Latin scholar, 165, 174 Varus, governor of Syria, 154, 157, 187 Venerable Bede, 448, 568, 605 Verus, Roman co-emperor, 331–33, 414 Vespasian, Roman emperor, 223, 238–40, 242, 250, 256, 268, 276, 317, 323, 553–54, 645 Victor, bishop of Palermo, 639

Index 837 Victor, bishop of Rome, 442–43, 445 Vigilius, pope, 623–24 Virgil (Vergil), Roman poet, 138 virgin birth of Jesus, 300, 344, 349, 419, 435, 574, 660, 755n377 Virgin Mary, Mother: 300, 536, 591, 643, 653–54, 669 Vitalis, rival Apollinarian bishop of Antioch, 500 Vitellius, Aulus, Roman emperor, 239–40, 250 Vitellius, Lucius, governor of Syria, 192, 211 Vologeses III, Parthian king, 332, 339 Vologeses IV, Parthian king, 352 Vramshapuh, king of Persian Armenia, 520–21 Wisdom: current of Jewish thought, 87, 90–93, 95, 158–61 Wisdom: hypostatized, 91, 170, 298–99, 347–48, 402, 424, 570 women: Christian, 245, 303, 307–8, 342, 348, 410, 484, 505, 611, 627, 650, 682–83 women: Gentile, 63, 164–65, 353, 393, 579, 603 women: Gentiles attracted to Judaism, 294–95, 484, 527, 560 women: Jewish, 44, 107, 114, 178, 180, 182, 203, 205, 221, 241, 294, 320, 337, 340, 359, 384, 440, 573, 581, 510, 670, 682–83, 752n296 women and children enslaved or massacred, 57, 59, 510, 617, 650 World to come, 281, 291, 314, 385, 427, 676, 686–87 worship, distinct from secular homage, 172 worship, emperor (imperial cult), 79, 171–72, 175, 268, 693 Xenophon, 55 Xerxes, king of Persia, 43, 49, 58, 62 Yaksum, son of Abraha, opponent of Muhammad, 634, 787n118 Yannai the Elder, 383–84, 386 Yavneh (Jamnia), central town of the early rabbis, 258–65, 277, 279–80, 289, 293–94, 325, 327, 441, 699 Yazdgird I, Sasanian king, 513, 521–22, 527–28, 530, 532, 540–41, 603 Yazdgird II, Sasanian king, 532–33, 541–42, 589, 597–98 Yazdgird III, last Sasanian king, 661

838 Vines Intertwined Yom Kippur, 151, 262, 504, 673, 738n131. See also Day of Atonement Zacharias, patriarch of Jerusalem, 650 Zadok, high priest under Solomon, 39, 87, 117–18, 166, 179 Zadok, pharisee with Judas the Galilean, 156, 180 Zadokite priests, 87, 89–90, 117–18, 140, 160, 167, 176, 179–80, 292, 733n186 Zamaris, Parthian Jewish nobleman, 151 Zamasp, Sasanian shah, 602–3, 607, 610 Ze’era, Babylonian sage, 401 Zealots: political party during Great Revolt, 181, 236–42, 255–56, 291, 317, 693 Zebid, Babylonian sage, 508–9 Zechariah, father of John the Baptist, 674 Zechariah, prophet of Judah, 39–41, 66, 93 Zedekiah (Mattaniah), king of Judah, 23–26 Zeno, Roman emperor, 587–89, 591–96, 599 Zeno of Citium, father of Stoicism, 78, 92 Zenobia, queen of Palmyra, 372

Zenon papyri, 73 Zephaniah, prophet of Judah, 17, 19, 53, 84, 93 Zerubbabel, Book of, 688 Zerubbabel, governor of Judah, 38–41, 87, 148, 166–67, 562, 739n156 Zeus, chief Olympic deity, 59, 67, 69, 78–80, 221, 254, 272–73, 343, 421 Zeus, equated with Yahweh as Most High God, 106–7, 161, 174, 372 Zion: appellation of Jerusalem, 22, 38, 66, 200, 314, 408, 553 Zoroaster (Zarathustra), 76, 375–76 Zoroastrian priests, 373, 376, 467, 532, 541, 594, 602–3. See also magi Zoroastrianism, 373–77, 396, 483, 513, 532–33, 540, 603, 615, 621–22 Zosimus, Hellene historian, 495, 501 Ztathius, ruler of Lazica, 615 Zuit‘ay, Christian priest of Artashat, 478 Zurvanism, form of Zoroastrianism, 621 Zutra I, exilarch, 545, 597–98 Zutra II, exilarch, 609–10, 646

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