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Emory Studies in Early Christianity General Editor Vernon K. Robbins
Associate Editor David B. Gowler, Chowan College Editorial Board William A. Beardslee, Emory University; Emeritus Peder Borgen, University of Trondheim, Norway Sharyn E. Dowd, Lexington Theological Seminary John G. Gager, Princeton University Beverly Roberts Gaventa, Princeton Theological Seminary Richard B. Hays, Duke Divinity School Luke Timothy Johnson, Emory University
Recruitment, Conquest, and Conflict Strategies in Judaism, Early Christianity, and the Greeo-Roman World
Cover Design by Gina M. Tansley (adapted from Rick A. Robbins, Mixed Media 1981)
edited by Peder Borgen Vernon K. Robbins David B. Gowler
The cover design intro duces an environment for disciplined creativity. The seven squares superimposed over one another represent multiple arenas for programmatic research, analysis, andinterpretation. The area in the center, common to all the arenas, is like the area that provides the unity for a volurne in the series. The small square in the center of the squares denotes a paragraph, page, or other unit of text. The two lines that extend out from the small square, perpendicular to one another, create an opening to territory not covered by any of the multiple squares. These lines have the potential to create yet another square of the same or different size that wo~ld be a new arena for research, analysis, and interpretation.
SCHOLARS PRESS Atlanta, Georgia
EMORY STUDIES IN EARLY CHRISTIANITY Recruitment, Conquest, and Conflict Strategies in Judaism, Early Christianity, and the Greco-Roman World edited by Peder Borgen Vernon K. Robbins David B. Gowler Copyright © 1998 Emory University All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by means of any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted by the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission should be addressed in writing to the Rights and Permissions Office, Scholars Press, P.O. Box 15399, Atlanta, GA 30333-0399, USA. Grateful acknowledgment is given to the Office of the Secretary of the University, the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, Emory College, and the Department of Religion.
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Recruitment, conquest, and conflict : strategies in Judaism, early Christianity, and the Greco-Roman world / edited by Peder Borgen, Vemon K. Robbins, David B. Gowler. p. cm. -(Emory studies in early Christianity i vol. 6) Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 0-7885-0526-2 (alk. paper) 1. Evangelistic work-History-Early church, ca. 30-600. 2. Conversion-History of doctrines-Early church, ca. 30-600. 3. Proselytes and proselyting, Jewish-History-To 1500. 1. Borgen, Peder. II. Robbins, Vemon K. (Vernon Kay), 1939III. Gowler, David B., 1958. IV. Series. BR195.E9R43 1998 291.4'2-dc21 98-32322 CIP
Published by Scholars Press for Emory University Volumes 1-111 in the series published by Peter Lang Publishing
In memory o/Isabella Lewis, who made publication 0/ this voZume possible with a gift in honor 0/ CZay Lewis
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduetion
Vemon K. Robbins and David B. Gowler
Mission, Conquest, and Conversion in the Mediterranean World 1.
The Hellenistie Öffentlichkeit: Philosophy as a Social Force in the Greeo-Roman World
Troels Engberg-Pedersen 2.
Expansion and Reeruitment among Hellenistie Religions: The Case of Mithraism
D. E. Aune 3.
57
Paul and the Beginning of Christian Conversion
Alan F. Segal 5.
39
Proselytes, Conquest, and Mission
Peder Borgen 4.
15
79
Jesus Before Culture
Graydon F. Snyder
113
Conflict in ludaism and Christianity 6.
Conquest and Social Confliet in Galilee
Richard Horsley 7.
129
Onee More - The Hellenists, Hebrews, and Stephen: Confliets and Confliet-Management in Aets 6-7
Torrey Seland
169 '
8.
9.
10.
Judaism, the Circumcision of Gentiles, and Apocalyptic Hope: Another Look at Galatians 1 and 2 Paula Fredriksen
INTRODUCTION 209
A Response to Fredriksen's "Judaism, the Circumcision öf Gentiles, and Apocalyptic Hope: Another Look at Galatians 1 and 2" Peder Borgen
245
Expansion and Conflict: The Rhetoric of Hebrew Bible Citations in Galatians 3 Kjel! Ame Morland
251
Strategies 0/ Social Formation in Early Christianity 11.
12.
13.
14.
Phases in the Social Formation of Early Christianity: From Faction to Sect - A Social Scientific Perspective John H. Elliott
273
Election, Obedience, and Eschatology: Deuteronomy 30:2-14 in Romans 9-11 and the Writings of Philo Per Jarle Bekken
315
The Role of the Congregation as a Family within the Context of Recruitment and Conflict in the EarIy Church Karl Olav Sandnes
333
Family-Like Care and Solidarity as a Pattern of Social Control in the Ancient Church @yvind Norderval
347
Emory Studies in Early Christianity volumes
357
Vemon K. Robbins and David B. Gowler
The inspiration for this volume arose from conversations between Pe der Borgen and Vernon Robbins earIy in this decade. In the 1980s, Borgen was instrumental in obtaining aseries of appointments of Fulbright scholars at the University of Trondheim. These appointments accelerated an exchange of scholarIy dialogues between Norway and the United States that began to reverberate between both of these countries. The meeting of the Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas at the University of Trondheim in 1985, followed by its meeting at Emory University in Atlanta the next year, gave rise to further scholarIy exchange and dialogue at these two institutions and between Borgen and Robbins in particular. As a result of these conversations, during March 17-19, 1991, Emory University hosted an initial joint conference of Scandinavian and American scholars. Then, August 3-5, 1992, the University of Trondheim hosted a symposium. Both meetings were entitled "Recruitment, Conquest, and Conflict in Judaism, Early Christianity, and the Greco-Roman W orId. " One of the results of these exchanges was the introduction of Kjell Arne MorIand to Vernon Robbins, which led to the publication of the 1995 volume, The Rhetoric 0/ Curse in Galatians, in the series Emory Studies in Early Christianity. We are pleased that the current volume also appears in the same series and as Peder Borgen is serving as president of the Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas that features his presidential address, "Two Philonic Prayers and Their Contexts. An Analysis of Who is Heir 0/ Divine Things 24-29 and Against Flaccus 170-75." Pe der Borgen's extensive work in the corpus of Philo of Alexandria expanded to aseries of young scholars in Scandinavia during the 1980s. His influence, for example, is especially evident in the essays by Torrey Seland, Kjell Arne Modand, and Per J arie Bekken in this volume. The broad context of the work of these scholars has been to ask how far Jews and Christi ans participated in widespread Mediterranean political practices, social structures, ideologies, and symbols, and the various ways in which they developed their own ,distinctive convictions and practices within this broader setting. During thus period, Robbins entered the dialogue with Borgen at a critical point. Robbins, like many New Testament scholars, c1earIy understood the Jewish context of the New Testament writings. From 1968 to 1984, however, Robbins taught in the Department of Classics at the University of Illinois at Urbana/Champaign which led hirn to further insights about the
2
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
nature of New Testament texts in the context of the Mediterranean worId. His writings began to illustrate how New Testament texts merge Jewish literary and social conventions with Hellenistic-Roman ones. Robbins's interest in Hellenistic-Roman texts does not diminish his view of the importance of Jewish texts, but he recognizes that other literary and cultural conventions pervaded the Mediterranean area and that New Testament texts also partake in this larger Mediterranean culture.1 In this context, then, the dialogue between Borgen and Robbins continued to progress, especially when Robbins was a Fulbright Scholar during 1983-84 at the University of Trondheim. 2 In the meantime, the work of Borgen and his students continued, and questions began to arise about strategies of recruitment, issues of identification, and modes of conflict between various kinds of Jews and Christi ans during the New Testament period. These discussions began to evoke aseries of additional questions concerning strategies of recruitment and attraction in Judaism and Christianity: Did strategies of recruitment and attraction in Judaism and Christianity have anything to do with Greek and Roman political policies, philosophical traditions and groups, and with Hellenistic-Roman religions? Did eschatological, apocalyptic, or mystical Jewish traditions in any way provide an ideological framework for recruitment and conformity? Did J udaism and Christianity gain participants in their community traditions through rhetorical persuasion, educational nurture, social force, ideological conquest, transformation of cultural symbols, all of the preceding, or few of the preceding? Out of these questions - ones vigorously explored by Borgen and his students - arises the context for this collection of essays. So, in reality, the genesis for this book was the energetic work of Peder Borgen in particular and his students in general. We, as co-editors of this volume with Peder Borgen, are pleased to offer this collection of essays as a tribute to his pioneering work in New Testament studies, in honor of his continuing influence on the discipline, and in celebration of our friendship.
Structure 0/ the Volume The ordering and placement of the essays in this volume inherently evolved out of the multiplicity of views expressed in them. The first section sets the stage with aseries of programmatic essays in which the authors pursue, from their own distinctive points of view, major issues involved in strategies of lSee the further explanation by David B. Gowler in Robbins 1994:1-36. 2Robbins initially presented his artic1e, "Rhetorical Argument about Lamps and Light in Early Christian Gospels," in honor of Pe der Borgen. See Robbins 1987; 1994:200217.
ROBBINS AND GOWLER: INTRODUCTION 3 mission, conquest, and conversion in the Mediterranean W orId. Some of these authors disagree significantly with one another, and, by conscious design, there is no attempt to lessen or smooth over those dis agreements . The second section focuses more directly on conflict in J udaism and Christianity. The essays he re deal, for example, with questions about conflicts within Judaism itself and between Judaism and othe~ groups and religions in the Mediterranean worId. The issues discussed in other essays, however, extend to conflicts between Judaism and Christianity and then within Christianity itself. The third section concerns scholarIy assessment and discussion of strategies of social formation in earIy Christianity. One of the issues here is the terminology of faction, sect, and cult; another is the use of the Hebrew Bible in a context of social change; and still another is the use of concepts like family and friendship in earIy Christianity.
Mission, Conquest, and Conversion in the Mediterranean World The first section beg ins with an essay by Troels Engberg-Pedersen that proposes that philosophical schools at the beginning of the Hellenistic period - the Academy, the Lyceum, Epicureanism, and Stoicism - did not have an explicit strategy of recruitment. They formulated, however, a conception of philosophy as integral to the social fabric of life, and the high level of discussion of this concept in the public re alm created what Engberg-Pedersen calls the Öffentlichkeit, which perhaps may be translated "the public face," of Hellenistic and Roman society. The theory and practice of psychagogy, as developed and applied by philosophers like Philodemus, Seneca, Dio Cbrysostom, Plutarch, and Epictetus during the later Hellenistic and Roman periods, built the earIier influential and prominent philosophical discourse into something akin to the missionary practices of a person like the apostle Paul. The key to the influence of the philosophical schools, according to Engberg-Pedersen, lies in their formulation of "systems of philosophical principles or sets of belief one could subscribe to no matter how, when, and where one lived." This means that philosophy is perceived to be a TixvTJ, a realm of technical knowledge rather than mere belief. In the realms of ethics and politics, then, the philosophers were the ones who had the expert knowledge - the ones who knew. In modern terms, Engberg-Pedersen suggests, this means that philosophy became an ideological phenomenon, an "understanding" related to other social and material phenomena.
4
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
Engberg-Pedersen distinguishes the ethico-political public sphere of philosophy from the sphere of 7rClLDeLCi, thecentral concept on which Isocrates hung his educational project. Stoicism and Epicureanism, the two dominant earlier philosophies, did not need to recruit since they already belonged to a public sphere with strong, direct influence on the dominant ethical and political discourse of the time. Implicit in this argument is a presupposition that explicit recruitment occurs among philosophicallyoriented groups only when they are actually or perceptually exc1uded from dominant ethical and political discourse. David E. Aune explores Mithraism, which originated during the last half of the first century CE. Some scholars, like Franz Cumont, have described Mithraism within a Christian model of understanding, using terms like church, conversion, apostle, and preaching, and many have considered it to be the major riyal of Christianity during 11-111 CE. Aune examines the extant data used to describe Mithraism and conc1udes that there is no evidence for strategies of recruitment similar to Christianity, nor was Mithraism a significant riyal of Christianity during 11-111 CE. Peder Borgen proposes that the matrix of Christi an mission was the Jewish Jewish notions of proselytism, eschatology, and conquest. proselytism featured religious, ethical, and social conversion. Christianity held a similar view of religious and ethical conversion. Gentiles had to convert from the worship of many gods to the one true and living God, and they were to lead a life that produced the virtues of the spirit. The strongest form of active Jewish outreach was military conquest, where gentiles either had to be circumcised and follow J ewish laws or leave the territory. Christi ans practiced a peaceful form of conquest in the new eschatological era when all nations were to be reached. Military imagery, however, could be used to understand Paul and other missionaries as soldiers. The book of Revelation, in particular, uses military imagery to present militant messianism. 3 Alan Segal' s perspective for understanding J ewish and Christian conversion differs considerably from Borgen's. Segal is interested in the different way in which Jews and Christians define conversion. For Jews, he argues, there was aperiod of learning followed by a change of identity based on oath and ritual. For Christianity, in contrast, conversion was based on Jewish mysticism. Segal uses Gershorn Scholem's analysis of Jewish mysticism, which suggests that Jewish Merkabah mysticism grew out of apocalypticism, which is the tail-end of the prophetic movement. Central to this mysticism 3Borgen does 'not indicate what the relation of his view might be to Aune's analysis, because he does not discuss the nature of Christian mission du ring II-III CE when Mithraism flourished within the Roman army. Mithraism became a dominant religion within the Roman army, and its imagery emerged from military ranks and practices.
ROBBINS AND GOWLER: INTRODUCTION 5 was adesire to go to heaven and see what was there, and this was possible for some people not only at death but during their lifetime on earth. Reading 2 Corinthians 12:1-9 as Paul's pseudepigraphical account of his own mystical experience and 2 Corinthians 3 as an account of the process of transformation available to a Christian, Segal argues that Paul equates the human form of God (the Kavod) with the form of Christ in the heavens. Christi ans behold the glory of the Lord and are transformed into his image. The experience of knowirtg Christ is to be allowed into the intimate presence of the Lord. In Segal's view, Paul fights against both the conversion to Judaism model (learning followed by oath and ritual) and the Jewish model of the resident sojourner (gentiles following certain basic laws to find acceptability among Jews) with a conception of conversion based on spiritual metamorphosis. Followers of Paul changed Paul's own experience of transformation into a conversion ritual especially for gentiles without adherence to the law. Paul, then, searches for a new definition of community based on internal states, confirmed by baptism and the Lord' s Supper, and later Christianity builds upon this new definition. As Segal continues, he argues for an evolution of models of conversion in Christianity and a his tory of the concept of universalism in Christianity parallel to this evolution. In Segal's view, someChristians adopted a view of some Jews that gentiles could not be saved as gentiles - in other words, they had to be circumcised and follow Jewish practices. Other Christians, basing their views on Paul's mystical conversion, argued that faith was the meanS for inc1usion in the community. For these Christians, the issue of the righteous gentile outside the believing community became an unimportant issue. In contrast, Rabbinic Judaism, concerned that introducing gentiles into their midst would endanger Jewish communities, favored the view that salvation of righteous gentiles, without conversion, was part of God's plan. The counterpart of this perspective was a view that conversion meant adecision to join a beleaguered minority through an extensive system of ritual requirements. Righteous gentiles should have all the benefits promised to Israel, but they should not be considered to be members of the elect community unless they lived according to the extensive rituals of the community. Graydon Snyder investigates those rare, interesting cases in the New Testament where the authors not only do not castigate those who do not understand the Gospel as they have presented it, but where they protect or even praise those who have not necessarily understood. This leads Snyder to ask if and how we can trace popular conversion to Christianity prior to its emergence as the dominant culture and to suggest that important evidence may be gleaned from non-literary sources as weIl as from literary ones.
6
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
Christianity took on a particular cultural form based on a symbol system rooted in the Mediterranean traditions of the first four centuries of our era. Much of that earliest Christi an culture was true to the original pre-cultural Jesus tradition. But canonical development in the Mediterranean world was not historically necessary, and Snyder muses about whether it is possible to repeat the assimilation process in cultures without going through the Mediterranean original. He suggests that there is a possibility that Christian missions could advance in this way and a Christianity produced which had none of the Mediterranean characteristics except for its preservation of the pre-cultural impulse (the Jesus tradition). And Snyder cautions us not to forget the "precultural" Jesus traditions and communities "below the level of canon." Perhaps, unlike Marcion, we - and others from non-Mediterranean cultures may be successful.
Conflict in ludaism and Christianity The second section beg ins with an essay by Richard Horsley in which he argues that, in Galilee, the nature of contHct is not Judaism versus Hellenism but rulers versus ruled, taxers versus taxed, city versus village, and official versus popular tradition. The relationship of Galilee to Judea, therefore, involves a fundamental structural social conflict compounded by regional and historical differences. Neither temple nor Torab is central to life in Galilee, but basic covenantal commandments to God are. While the populace of Galilee shares this basic covenantal perspective with the populace of Judea, contHct arises as a result of the Jerusalem high priests' use of that perspective for their own interests. Pharisees in the Galilee are not loeal people in charge of synagogues, as often thought. Rather, they are representatives of the economic and political interests of the high priesthood in J erusalem in the name of guardians of the Torah. Torrey Seland ex amines the issue of non-conformity and the inevitable contHcts that occur when one group and its representatives overstep the limits of "tolerance" of another social group. Seland offers a model that encompasses various actions of contHct management. When Acts describes, for example, various measures of accommodation, manipulation, or official discipline that fai! to bring Stephen back within acceptable boundaries, vigilante actions occur. Vigilantism (or "establishment violence"), therefore, ultimately is a means of social control, and Seland concludes that Stephen's death is best characterized as an example of establishment violence. Establishment violence involves acts or threats of coercion in violation of the formal boundaries of an established sociopolitical order, but they are actually intended by, the violators to defend that order from "perversion." Such
ROBBINS AND GOWLER: INTRODUCTION 7 vigilantism occurs when a regime is unwilling or unable to take counteractions against "deviants" such as Stephen, so defenders of the social order justify "illegitimate coercion" against those deviants. Seland contends that Philo advocated zealotic establishment violence (in the tradition of Phinehas) against specific deviances from the Torab that challenged monotheism (apostasy, seduction by false prophets, and perjury). So vigilante actions against non-conformers to the Torab in the Judaism of the first century CE not only shed light on contHcts and competitive strategies between Judaism and Christianity, but, for Seland, constitute one element of this text' s "historical plausibility." Paula Fredriksen builds the argument in her essay on a view similar to the one discussed in Segal's essay, n~mely that Gentiles would be "included" in God's salvation at the end of time without "converting" to Judaism. Fredriksen argues that circumcision is the sine qua non of conversion to Judaism. There was no need for Gentiles to be circumcised to be included in the ekklesia, and this was not a difficulty in Jerusalem. The difficulty arose in the Diaspora where the majority of the population was Jewish but, nevertheless, a mixture of various kinds of peoples. In these communities, Jews needed protection from Rome, and the message of a Messiah who was crucified as a politically dangerous person was a dangerous one in these contexts. In Galatia, "false brethren" had decided that the delay of the coming of the Kingdom was being caused by the growing unreadiness of Israel. Their answer was to inaugu!ate something awkward and new: Jewish mission to the Gentiles. James had not required circumcision of Gentiles, nor had other early Christians. Paul was angry that Peter was "passive aggressiv'e" about this - by not confronting these false brethren, he was allowing them to "compe!" Gentiles to be circumcised. Peder Borgen responds to Fredriksen with an assertion that in some Jewish circles circumcision was not "the" requirement for entering the Jewish community but was one of the commandments to be obeyed upon receiving the status of a Jew. Moreover, when stressing the use of circumcision as an entrance requirement, Fredriksen, in his view, overlooks the most aggressive mode of Jewish proselytism: conquest in which they compelled the local populations to accept circumcision and follow the ancestral laws or to leave the land that had been conquered. Thus, he suggests, Fredriksen makes a major mistake when she claims that "all" Jews presupposed that circumcision was "the" requirement for conversion. Borgen argues that while some will have held this view, others did not. In addition, there are sources which demonstrate that at least some Jews were expecting an eschatological conversion of gentiles to Judaism in the end time.
8
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
Kjell Arne Morland, taking a position eloser to Borgen's than Fredriksen's, contends that Paul's letter to the Galatians is an interesting example of emerging Christian "conquest" discussed against the background of both recruitment and conflict. Two Christi an missionary groups compete for the same group of converts. The mission of Paul in Galatia recruited many converts with Gentile backgrounds, and a conflict arose with opponents who sought to impose circumcision on Gentile converts. The letter is an attempt to resolve the conflict by persuading the Galatians to choose bis teaching and to reject his opponents and their teaching. Morland argues that Paul's citations from the Hebrew Bible g"ive important elues for reconstructing some main elements of the conflict, especially if they are recognized as elear reflections of disputes according to Hellenistic rhetorieal status legales - which concerns controversial interpretations of written documents. Four kinds of such disputes can be distinguished: They could be related to the will behind the words in a law, to contradictory laws, to ambiguous expressions, or to reasoning from analogy. Galatians 3 is an illuminating example of a conflict where the focus concerned the role of the J ewish law with conventional patterns of persuasion and interpretation of the authoritative Hebrew Bible. Paul's use of the Hellenistic status legales in his discussion, which gave bis argument an unmistakable flavor of a lawsuit, underscores the seriousness of the conflict - as does his use of a curse upon his opponents. It was a confliet of how to perceive the work of Christ, with ramifications for how the effects of Christ's death and resurrection should, if at all , be harmonized with the concern for the Jewish law and national identity. For Paul, according to Morland, the true " gospel of Christ hinges on which position one takes.
Strategies of Sodal Formation in Early Christianity The third section begins with an essay by John H. EIliott in whieh he argues that a combination of the terms sect and faction is the most satisfactory means for social-scientific analysis to describe early Christianity. In his view, Christianity began as a Jewish faction which eventually transformed into a deviant J ewish sect. Troeltsch had argued that earliest Christianity was not a sect and that the rise of Christianity was a religious and not a social phenomenon. Troeltsch distinguished between the church, the sects, and mysticism. Sects emerged only in opposition to the church as an established institution. Thus sectarianism is a medieval phenomenon, and Christianity as a sect of Judaism is not a matter of discussion. Weber used Troeltsch's categories, but analyzed sectarian forms of Judaism during the post-exilic period aud their relation to early Christianity.
ROBBINS AND GOWLER: INTRODUCTION 9 EIliott argues that the category sect involves social and ideological dissociation which is not typieal of any of the Jewish coalitions during Jesus' lifetime. For hirn, "all conflicting Palestinian coalitions, ineluding the Jesus faction, remain inseparable parts of and- ideologically bound to the ethnos of Israel." However, "within a ~eneration of Jesus' death, the Jewish messianic faction centered in J esus of N azareth eventually began to assurne the characRodney Stark recently has argued that early ter of a Jewish sect." Christianity is best described as a "cult," wbich is a new faith. Elliott considers this point of view to be helpful from the perspective of Greco-Roman society, which viewed Christianity more as a foreign eastern cult than an embodiment of J ewish traditions. Per Jarle Bekken' s essay addresses other broad social issues in the investigation of early Christianity. Interpreters have reached no consensus about Paul's view of the law, his view of salvation history with respect to the relationship between Jews and Gentiles, Paul's perplexing use of the Hebrew Bible, and many other questions. Bekken thus attempts to elarify some of these issues by means of comparative analysis of texts selected from Philo in order to demonstrate that Paul's exposition of Deut ~0:12-14 can be placed within the framework of Jewish exegetieal study and method. Paul's exposition of Deut 30:12-14 is at the center of Paul's attempt to broaden the significance of the law from what he perceived to be a too narrowly-defined understanding. Paul believed that the religious change involved in the Christ event necessitated a social change as weIl. To begin with, the connection between election, covenant, and law is a fundamental and persistent theme of J ewish self-understanding and identity. The law functioned as a boundary marker for Israel's distinctiveness as a nation. In Romans 10 Paul speaks against many of the assumptions held by his Jewish contemporaries. Paul was concerned, at least to a certain extent, that the covenant promise and law had become too elosely identified with ethnie Israel, which was set apart by such boundary-defining practiees as keeping the Sabbath, "circumcision, and food laws. Paul wants to redraw those boundaries by reelaiming what he considers to be the "proper meaning" of the covenant as witnessed by Deut 30:11-14. Bekken's analysis of Philo's use of Deut 30: 11-14 makes it quite elear tbat Paul is using a text that resonates with a Diaspora Jewish_audience. But, as a Christian, Paul is convinced that the eschatologie al effect of Christ was to bring God' s purpose to a new stage where belonging to the "people of God" was no longer to be defined by national or ritual boundaries, but as a righteousness from faith in Christ. Faith in Christ is the obedience the law now calls for. It is no longer Jew versus Greek (Romans 10:12); it is those who call on the name of the Lord versus those who do not (cf. Romans 9:13, 25, ,26; 10:2).
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
Paul redraws boundaries to argue that the promise of God is now available - free from ethnic constraints because of the Christ event - to Gentiles. It is no longer the ritual of circumcision, for example, that signifies inc1usion in the people of God, but the confession found in Romans 10:9: "Jesus is Lord." In this regard, Paul's use of Deut 30:12-14 is at the center of his attempt to explain the transformation of the people of God from a national J ewish community into a "cross-national" community. Paul used categories that were common and understandable in contemporary Judaism in order to argue his point that God had ~witched the roles of J ews and Gentiles in the program of election that offers salvation to the world. Karl Olav Sandnes addresses yet another social dynamic in early Christianity by proposing that a significant part of successful recruitment by early Christianity was its forming of an inviting and welcoming fellowship that was "family-like." Against what he considers to be an over-emphasis on conversion into Christianity to compensate socially for personal distress or dissatisfaction with life, he emphasizes that when people embraced the Chri~tian faith and joined the movement they were regularly brought into confllct with their families. In this context, he emphasizes a theory of conversion based on sociology of knowledge rather than social compensation. S~dnes as~ert~ that it is important to keep on taking conversion seriously. FaIth remams m the context of a community, anti conversion persists when t~e social setting of a person's life is a family-like congregation. In this settmg, people find "significant others," and the relationships resemble the setting of primary socialization in the upbringing of children within a family. Using Luke's summary of Christian fellowship in Acts 2:42-47 as a case study, Sandnes explores how early Christi an fellowship was associated with privat~ houses, ho,,: they intermingled household language with friendship by spendm.g a lot ~f tlI~e together and eating together, and how they practiced generallzed reClprocIty - exchanging resources with one another without expectat~o~ of. return. This leads to a conc1usion, against some interpreters, that a dlstmctlOn between family and friend should not be emphasized for early Christianity. 0yvind Norderval responds to Sandnes by supplementing his informa. tIon from Acts with information from writings during the Patristic era. In the Acts of the Martyrs, new converts exhibit the priority they give to their relationships with their Christian brothers and sisters over their blood family. He observes an absence of references to theological perspectives on Christians as family, and he proposes that Sandnes glorifies the family-like fellowship and harmony of early Christian communities. The early church also exhibits regulation of Christian fellowship: If Christi ans did not care for and love each other as a normative demand, they could be punished or expelled from
ROBBINS AND GOWLER: INTRODUCTION 11 the community. Christians were to understand themselves as an eschatological family waiting for the parousia, and during this time they were to live with love towards God and one' s neighbor in singleness of heart. This implied a denial of private life for life in a community where the heart was held to be totally public to the gaze of God and God's angels. Focusing on urban Christianity, Norderval emphasizes the necessity for the early Christian communities to develop habitual and resilient norms so they could function as a strang moral force in Mediterranean society. Thus, Christian life was a matter of living an "over-controlled love." Falling short of these norms meant punishment not only by the Christian community, but by God. Pointing to the portrayal of Judas, Ananias, and Sapphira in New Testament writings, as weIl as instances in the letters of Paul, Norderval further supports this approach of over-controlled love with data from second century Christi an writings. An additional feature within Christianity to support this system was the rise of the monarchic episcopate, the bishop as the head of the Christian family. Bishops not only cared for the spiritual needs of the congregation but controlled the finances of the church.
Conclusion The early Christian era, in fact the entire Hellenistic era, was an age of active polyglossia, that is, a time when different national languages were interacting within the same cultural systems. Scattered throughout the entire Mediterranean were cities, settlements, and other areas where several cultures and languages direct1y "cohabited," and they interwove with each other in distinctive patterns (Bakhtin:64).4 The texts and discourses considered in the essays of this volume - inc1uding New Testament narratives - germinated and flourished in these fields of active polyglossia. They are dialogues that actively engage a wide range of different cultures, societies, and peoples. Furthermore, we would argue that any text is a rejoinder, an active participant in social dialogue, whose style and content are influenced by its interrelationship with other rejoinders in the greater social dialogues. All such "sociallanguages" are specific points of view on the world, and each is characterized by its own meanings and values. As such, they may be juxtaposed to one another, mutually supplement one another, and/or contradict 4Bakhtin, a trained c1assicist, observed that: "Where languages and cultures interanimated each other, language became something entirely different, its very nature changed: in place of a single unitary sealed-off Ptolemaic world of language, there appeared the open Galilean world of many languages, mutually animating each other" (65).
12
ROBBINS AND GOWLER: INTRODUCTION 13
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
each other as they interrelate dialogically. They struggle and evolve, as do the essays in this volume, in an environment of social heteroglossia. As these social languages cohabit with one another, some deliberately intensify the differences between themselves and other social languages and oppose them in apparently unresolvable dialogues (Bakhtin:291-292). The significance of any discourse must be understood, therefore, in the context of other discourses on the same theme - a context made up of numerous and often contradictory opinions, points of view, and value judgments. An active understanding, one which assimilates any discourse under consideration and strives to understand it, establishes aseries of complex interrelationships - in consonances and dissonances, with centripetal and centrifugal forces - with the discourse and enriches it with new elements. It is in this dialogical relationship of various points of view, conceptual horizons, and systems, that sociallanguages come to interact with each other (Bakhtin:282). The title of this volume assurnes the fact that discourse is a social phenomenon, and that there are no neutral words. No narrative is created in a literary, cultural, social, or historical vacuum, and no discourse is created ex nihilo. New Testament narratives, for example, were created and preserved in conversations with their cultural environments, and they partake, vigorously at times, in that dialogical social discourse. Speakers do not utilize pristine words - "untainted" and straight out of a dictionary - but rather those words have already existed in the mouths of others and thus already partially belong to others - each word "tastes" therefore of the contexts in which it has lived its socially-charged life in previous speakers' personal, cultural, social, and ideological contexts. It is from those places that one must take the words and attempt to make them one's own. What therefore may first appear to be "original" utterances are actually rejoinders in a greater dialogue, incorporating, in different ways, the words of others. So language is never a neutral medium that passes freely and easily into a new conceptual system; it is a difficult, complex, and often conflictual process. In the processes which are described in these essays, differing groups partake in the heteroglossia of the ancient Mediterranean world and actively orient themselves amidst that heteroglossia. They move in and occupy a position for themselves within, against, and in concert with other groupsand their sociallanguages (cf. Bakhtin:293-295). Such is the nature of groups; such is the nature of societies; such is the nature of language. Such is the nature of the essays in tbis volume. . The editors offer this volume to the scholarly community in the hope of advancing a discussion that has many sides, many deep commitments, and many points where bitter dis agreements are natural. The social, cultural,
ideological, and religious environments in which people live are the foundational treasure troves of their lives. On the one hand, then, it is natural for peöple to expand the realm of their environment through aggressive, peaceful, subtle, or understated ways so that other people might become participants in it. On the other hand, it is natural for people to be offended when people from some other environment compel them to change or successfully win members of their community over to a new and different environment. These processes will continue as long as there is human society, since the process itself is apart of building and maintaining social, cultural, ideological, and religious identity. We offer this volume as a way of encouraging meaningful discussion, dialogue, and exchange in peaceful environments of deliberation and reflection.
Works Consulted Bakhtin, Mikhail M. 1981 The Dialogic Imagination, ed. Michael Holquist. Austin: University of Texas Press. Robbins, Vernon K. 1987 "Rhetorical Argument about Lamps and Light in Early Christian Gospels." pp. 177-195 in Context, FestskriJt til Peder Johan Borgen, ed. Peter Wilhelm Böckman and Roald E. Kristiansen. Relieff24. Universitetet i Trondheim: Tapir. Reprinted in Robbins, 1994: 200-217.
1994
New Boundaries in Old Territory: Form and Sodal Rhetoric in Mark, ed. and introduced by David B. Gowler. Emory Studies in Early Christianity 3. New York, Bern, Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang Press, 1994.
CHAPfERl THE HEILENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT: PHILOSOPHY AS A SOCIAL FORCE IN THE GRECO-ROMAN WORLD Troels Engberg-Pedersen Department 0/ Biblical Exegesis Copenhagen University, Denmark
Introduction Philosophers do not, as philosophers, participate directly in social conflict. Nor do they, as philosophers, engage in military conquest. Or so we might say, reflecting both an Aristotelian and a modern conception of the discipline: Philosophy, as philosophy, is not directly concerned with practice. Still, philosophy may influence the social and historical process in a number of ways and in an intimate interplay with other causal factors. How? In a volume of essays focusing on the role of various ideologies in the Hellenistic and Roman world in relation to the themes of recruitment, conquest, and conflict, it is appropriate to ask ab out the social function of one such ideology - Hellenistic (and Roman) ethical and political philosophy. How does this specific ideological construct compare with the other ideologies that were around in the Hellenistic and Roman periods with respect to the themes under discussion? There are several broad issues that fall under this question. One concerns the Sitz im Leben or social situation of Greco-Roman ethical and political philosophy. What was a philosophical school? How did it recruit its members? How did philosophers r~late to society in a broad sense, including political rulers, such as the Hellenistic kings? And how did these kings relate to the philosophers? What was the social status of philosophy, and what were the ways and means of philosophical influence and impact on society? Can we even speak of a sense of mission on the part of the Hellenistic philosophers? Other issues concern specific, substantive social and political problems that appear to have gathered momentum during the Hellenistic and Roman periods and are directly relevant to the themes of conflict and conquest. One is the problem of ethnicity or of the relationship between ethnic groups. How, if at all , did Greco-Roman ethical and political philosophy, which
16
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
reflected the perspective of the political rulers and of the dominant culture, tadele that problem? Another problem is that of the legitimacy of kingship and the relationship between kingship and social justice (law). This was a burning problem already at the beginning of the Hellenistic period, and it became no less important when the Hellenistic king turned into a Roman emperor. Yet another problem, which seems to have been discussed particularly in the second and first centuries BCE with the arrival of the Romans on the Greek scene, is the justification of the empire. What were the views of the philosophers on this specific issue, and did they have any influence on actual practice? In this essay, I shall concentrate on the first, more formal issue and only incidentally touch on some of the substantive ones. Nor shall I in any way attempt to provide an exhaustive account even of the formal issue. Rather , I shall focus on the beginning of the Hellenistic period and the main philosophical schools that were founded or flourishing at that time: the Academy, the Lyceum, Epicureanism, and Stoicism. This willleave out whole movements like those represented by Cynics, Neo-Pythagoreans, and philosophically~ minded sophists of the Roman imperial period like Dio Chrysostom, as weIl as later developments within the philosophical schools proper - both of which might be thought to imply a more direct engagement with society than one finds in the earlier, more strictly technical philosophical schools. There is some truth in this. Indeed, if one wants specific analogies to the missionary practice of early Christianity - the apostle Paul, for example - the place to find it is in the theory and practice of psychagogy as developed and applied by "philosophers" in the later Hellenistic and Roman periods - for example, Philodemus, Seneca, Dio Chry~9stom, Plutarch, and Epictetus.1 I have a good reason, however, for focusing on the earlier period. I shall argue that behind the later developments lay an overall conception of the status and role of philosophy as a distinctive element in the social fabric a conception which was formulated at the beginning of the Hellenistic period (with Plato and Aristotle as essential forerunners) when the schools were founded and when their relationship with the wider society was first defined. This conception stayed in place all through the Hellenistic and Roman periods. In the highly mixed bag of ideologies that characterize these periods, this conception defines, and was taken by those living at the time to define, the specific construct of Greek and Roman "philosophy." It is important to get a dear grasp of its main contours. I shall argue that by the beginning of the Hellenistic period, philosophy had gained such a social status and played
IThe importance of this has been shown by Abraham J. Malherbe in a number of writings, most persuasively perhaps in Malherbe 1986.
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HEILENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 17 such a social role that a level of public discourse had been created which, for want of a better word and with recent precedence, we may term the Öffentlichkeit of Hellenistic and Roman society. The later developments of psychagogic theory and practice and the discussions of the substantive issues all took place within and presupposed that distinct level of discourse.
The Schools in Actual Life Wespeak of the Hellenistic philosophlcal schools as schools, but it is important to be dear about how this should be understood. They were "schools" in one of the modern senses of this term, that is, as what the Greeks themselves called aipeaeLC;: systems of philosophical principles or sets of belief that one could subscribe to no matter how, when, and where one lived. 2 Were they also schools in the sense of physical institutions that one might frequent in order to obtain higher education and with a clearly defined and generally recognized social status? In some ways yes; in others no. Let us start with the negative ans wer . We are best informed about the period when the schools were set up: the Ac ademy , the Lyceum, and Epicurus's Garden. Most of the relevant material comes from Diogenes Laertius, Lives 0/ Eminent Philosophers, not least due to the fact that he has preserved a number of wills, of which those by Theophrastus and Epicurus are particularly important (Diog. Laert. 5.5157; 10.16-21).3 1. The schools were essentially private. They were set up by individuals. Where there was any property involved (as in the case of the Academy,4 2For this sense cf. Diogenes Laertius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers (henceforth Diog. Laert.) 6.103, where just before setting forth the "doctrines" that Cynics hold in common (ra KOWf1 apeaKovrCY. CY.urot<;) Diogenes wonders whether "that philosophy, " i.e. Cynicism, is in fact a CY.'{psaL<; and not, as some people claim, a "way of [setting up one's] life" (evarCY.m<; ßtOU, derived from 8vtarrl/1.L, setting up an institution). 3The ensuing account follows Lynch, chapters 2 and 3. The term school itself is tricky. On one hand, we must use it for describing the various forms of high er education that developed in Athens in the 4th century BCE (otherwise we will get no grip on what was going on). On the other hand, we must do our utrilost not to bring in our own connotations when using the term. Even Lynch succurrtbs from time to time. Thus, for example, he transmits areport given by Diogenes Laertius (2.62) to the effect that Aeschines the Socratic "did not venture to set up a school because of the great reputation of Plato and Aristippos; but Aeschines did take in pupils for hire" (51). What the text means is probably that Aeschines did not venture to give public lectures in the manner of the sophists (aoqnarsvsLv); instead he took private pupils, i.e. (presumably) set up a school. 4Plato apparently both made use of the public gymnasium named the Academy and also had a small estate (xwptÖLOV) nearby, where he, Xenocrates, and Polemo lived and taught (compare Diog. Laert. 3.7 with Plutarch, On Exile 603B).
18
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
the Lyceum,5 and Epicurus's schooI6), it was private property. Similarly, members of the family of the leaders of the school were often engaged in the school work in one way or another. 7 In most cases (though not that of Epicurus) the schools were attached to a gymnasium (the Academy and the Lyceum) or to another equally public place (the Stoics taught in the Stoa Poikile at the central agora), which meant (i) that they had some official status and (ii) that at least part of wh at went on in them was open to the public. In the case of the Lyceum, some kind of official grant seems to have been made by Demetrius of Phaleron, but the school remained (officially andin fact) private. 2. There probably was some kind of curriculum, but it will basically have been very informal and presumably through and through individual. The same goes for the length of time that students will have spent at the school. There were of course no examinations and no degrees. In some cases (e.g., that of Epicurus, if we can extrapolate from his remarks about the wise man, Diog. Laert. 10.120) students paid a fee. In others apparently not, but they would evidently have to provide for their own livelihood. 8 3. The institutional structure will have been informal too. One person was the leader of the school, who was appointed either by his predecessor or by vote. But there are no indications of any formalized structure apart from that. 9 5But only from the time of Theophrastus, to whom Demetrius of Phaleron donated a piece of land (a K~7rO<;, Diog. Laert. 5.39, cf. 52). As a metic Aristotle had been unable to acquire land in Athens. Theophrastus too was a metic, but Demetrius may have given hirn the right of B'YKTYJO'L<; during his period in power in Athens. Cf. Lynch:97-99 and his discussion of Theophrastus's will (99-103). . 6Epicurus, who was an Athenian, apparently had two properties, both of which were part of his "school" (cf. the beginning of his will, Diog. Laert. 10.16-17): the Garden, which was the more public part of the school, and Epicurus's own house in the Athenian district of Melite. How activities were divided between these two locations is not entirely clear. 7Plato's successor in the Academy, Speusippus, was also his nephew (Diog. Laert. 4.1). Epicurus's three brothers Neoc1es, Chaeredemus, and Aristobulus joined his school at his invitation (Diog. Laert. 10.3). sThe schools would then depend financially partly on the personal income of the founder - as probably in the case of Plato and Aristotle - and partlyon donations. Plato apparently accepted gifts of money from Dionysius, Dion, and other friends (Lynch:62), Aristotle from Alexander (Lynch: 83), and Epicurus speaks in his will (Diog. Laert. 10.19) of funds (7rPOUOOOL) apparently donated by friends like those left in Lampsacus (Plutarch, Against Apion 1117E). 9For Plato and Aristotle see Lynch:55-56, 75-76. Whether one should in fact speak of two general "classes" of members (in addition to the scholarch), that is, the 7rpeaßvrepoL and the veavLuKoL, seems to me doubtful. The main category that makes its appearance in the various wills is that of the senior friends (cptAOL) of the scholarch. On the basis of the fragmentary work On Frank Criticism by the Epicurean Philodemus, N. W. DeWitt sketched a more elaborate structure of his supposed school in Italy in the sec-
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 19 4. What was taught depended wholly on the interests of the leader and other main teachers if there were any, and so it will have varied a lot from period to period. We may suspect that what teachers taught corresponds reasonably c10sely with what they wrote about. The essence of attending a school was probably that of "hearing" this or the other philosopher. The upshot is: the Hellenistic philosophical schools were basically private, highly informal "institutions" that provided teaching in whatever subjects interested the philosopher in charge of the school (and his helpers). In an important number of respects, therefore, they were very far from being anything as institutionalized as, for example, the later universities. 10 This, then, gives them a location which might be thought to place them very much on the fringes of contemporary society. They do not immediately look as having had a c1early defined and generally recognized social status.
The Sodal Location
0/ the Philosophical Schools
This, however, would be a false conc1usion to draw. And so I turn to the positive side of the ans wer to the question concerning the social status of the schools. To judge from the use that was constantly being made of the philosophers for specific social tasks outside the schools, the schools themselves and what went on in them were considered important by society. Why was that, and how, consequently, did the schools interact with society? The schools taught philosophy, but why should anybody be interested in that? In fact, it was not even c1ear, in the first half of the 4th century BCE, what philosophy was. Plato, as we know, had to show what it was, indeed almost to invent it, and certainly to defend his conception of it in a constant confrontation with sophists and rhetoricians. With Aristotle it became c1earer what it was: knowledge, so far as it could be had, of the basic structure of the world, inc1uding the human world. A philosopher is a person who can ans wer the basic "What is"-questions. What is knowledge? What are the basic constituents of the world? What is a human being? What is the good ond quarter of the first century BCE (1936:205-211). DeWitt's results have been questioned, rightly to my mind, by M. Gigante. lOLynch:66: "The whole new system of advanced studies that was em erging [in Athens in the course of the 4th century BCE] was very flexible and fluid. The Athenian schools of higher leaming were voluntary in the fullest sense. Neither the teachers of the schools nor the schools themselves were licensed or certified, nor were formal examinations given or degrees awarded to those who completed their studies. Even though many of thc schools used public property, they were entirely private organizations, selfregulated, and self-supporting."
20
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
- and in two senses: what is it one is talking about when one asks about the good, and what is it t4at is good? Further: What is society? And wh at is the good society? There are evidently many more "What is"-questions to which the philosopher knows the answers. But still, why should that be of interest? The ans wer , I believe, is that the very existence of philosophy is itself the outcome of a set of social processes wh ich ended up by creating a social phenomenon of extreme importance, but terribly hard to formulate properly. It is a level 0/ consciousness shared by all leading groups in the society, and here primarily in Athens, according to which in each particular area of knowledge there are experts and there are non-experts, and the experts are those who can explain why one should do one thing (with a certain purpose in mind) rather than another. We can see this concept being deve10ped by Plato· in explicit confrontation with the sophists and implicit confrontation with a rhetorician like Isocrates. It is the conception of philosophy as a TixvTJ and of the categorical difference between technical knowledge and mere belief. This idea caught the imagination of all leading layers of society in the late Classical and early Hellenistic periods, not only in the area of philosophy itself, but also in the many more obviously technical areas, in medicine, architecture, siege-craft, and so forth. And so one can understand why there was an interest in the philosophers. For in at least two areas that mattered directly, they were the ones who knew: in ethics and politics. One can also understand why the philosophers were constantly aware of the question whether virtue, i.e. apeTi] or "moral capability," is teachable (fnoaKTi]) and indeed, why they insisted that it iso I have spoken of a shared level of consciousness tied to the notion of expertise (TBXVTJ). In calling it a level of consciousness, I intend to suggest that it is a phenomenon that was perceived by the leading participants in social discourse to place certain limits on what could be accepted as valid participation in that discourse. It is therefore, seen in modern terms, an ideological phenomenon, an "understanding," which will presumably be intimately related to a number of other social (and more "material") phenomena. This last aspect I shall leave on one side. But viewed as an ideological phenomenon and more specifically as restricted to the area of ethical and political deliberation, I suggest that the shared level of consciousness tied to the notion of expertise that I am trying to define has some affinity to the notion of what Jürgen Habermas called the bürgerliche Öffentlichkeit. The differences are evidently great (Habermas was speaking of a far later period in European history , and he expressly denies that the bürgerliche Öffentlichkeit is found before that). But the idea itself of the Öffentlichkeit as a sphere of political communication which mediates between "society" and "the state." (in antiquity: the rulers) is sufficiently similar to be illuminating.
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 21 For want of a better word I shall speak of the kind of ancient Greek Öffentlichkeit that I want to introduce as a sphere 0/ ethico-political public discourse . What I am suggesting is that in the course of the 4th century BCB, this sphere came into existence as an entity of its own, as an important social phenomenon tied to the notion of expertise and c10sely connected with the creation of the late Classical and Hellenistic philosophical schools. We may compare and contrast this specific sphere of public discourse with another sphere of c10sely corresponding form, but with a somewhat different, though connected content: the sphere of 7raLOeLa. That sphere too became of great importance in the 4th century BCB and pre~isely as seen in contrast to the sphere of TixvTJ and philosophy as a technical enterprise. Thus famously, (i) it is a central concept in Isocrates, the peg upon which he hangs his educational project.1 1 On the other side of the divide, and less famously, (ii) Aristotle sometimes refers to a person who is 7re7rCI.Loev/livoc; (educated) and thus capable of understanding the basic content of what a technician is saying without understanding it fully (with all its justifications and its implications) .12 Finally, (iii) it is noteworthy that the early Hellenistic philosophers were keen to define their own subject in relation to the phenomenon of "all-round education" (e'YKvKAwc; 7raLOeLa).13 Thus, for example, Zeno the Stoic pronounced it useless (Diog. Laert. 7.32). The Cynics too dispensed with Ta e'YKVKALa /la8i]/laTa (grammar and literature, geometry, music, and all such studies, Diog. Laert. 6.103-104). So did Bpicurus (Diog. Laert. 10.6).14 The Academic Xenocrates, by contrast, welcomed it in his hearers as something philosophy could lay hold of (Diog. Laert. 4.10). Similarly, half a century after Zeno, the Stoic Chrysippus allowed it to be serviceable (Diog. Laert. 7.129). But no matter whether they rejected it or accepted it as a propaedeutic, it was quite c1early contrasted by the philosophers with the real thing: philosophy (;lS the T8XVTJ of ethics and politics. To sum up, philosophy certainly had social prestige in the early Hellenistic period. It was not only part of higher education (for those few who could afford that), but was even considered the highest education and as such directly relevant to living, both personally (ethically) and socially (politically). For living was seen as a task no less than the building of ships or designing of cities. I have spent time on this because it is important to regain a sense of what philosophywas in social terms at the time when it was created. Nothing llCf. the careful analysis ofIsocrates's Antidosis in E. Mikkola:196-209. 12S ee , e. g., Politics 3.11, 1282a3-7. I3S ee for this also A. Dible.
14Cf. also Vatican Sayings 45 and Plutarch, Against Epicurean Happiness 1095C.
r 22
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 23
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
must be taken for granted here. It is only when we see what a powerjul conception philosophy was that we shall be able to grasp the very many different ways in which it interacted with the rest of society.
The Content 0/ Hellenistic Ethical and Political Thought Before turning to this question, 1 want to consider whether in spite of the differences between the various Hellenistic philosophical schools, one may not speak of certain more-or-Iess basic similarities or affinities in their actual ethical and political teaching. 1 shall consider only Stoicism and Epicureanism, the two main schools that seem to have been the main protagonists. The point of the comparison is certainly not to suggest that appearances notwithstanding, the ethical and political teachings of Stoicism and Epicureanism were the same. They manifestly were not. Rather, 1 want to highlight certain similarities of teaching that support the idea of seeing both Stoicism and Epicureanism as co-players in a specific field of ethico-political public discourse. These philosophers were thinking about the best individual, social, and political life, and they were doing it in ways which, despite the differences, are remarkably similar and reflect the fact that they were all participating in that very same type of discourse. What we are comparing are the ethical and the political teachings of the two schools. But these cannot in fact be kept c1early separate. Moreover, it is the similarity of the teaching of the two schools on this particular point which is the most striking. In the case of Stoicism the point is obvious. The basic question in Stoic ethics concerns the "end" of living for the individual, but the ans wer is of such a kind, based on a certain understanding of what a human being is, that the moral virtue of justice and the idea of living together in total harmony with other people who have also reached the "end" of human living come to obtain crucial importance. This conception was then set forth in the founder of Stoicism, Zeno's, famous Republic (Politeia) in the form of something which Plutarch calls Zeno's "dream-image of a wellordered and philosophic state" (On the Fortune 0/ Alexander 329B). Ethics and politics, therefore, cannot be separated. What the Stoics said in the "third division" of philosophy, ethics (the two others being logic and natural philosophy), was directly relevant to politics - as was the case in their 4th century predecessors Aristotle and Plato, who had helped so much in creating the sphere of ethico-political discourse.
There is another important point about Stoic ethical and political thought which concerns the relationship, according to Stoic philosophy itself, between that thought and the way human beings actually live ethically and politically. This relationship is the one of an ideal in relation to the actual social situation. Zeno's sketch in his Republic is precisely a "dream-image." Attempts were made in different ways to put it into practice, both more constructively (as done by certain Stoics who actually became advisers to rulers) and purely negatively and individually (as done by the original Cynics, Diogenes, and Crates) - or in the cases of "republican" opposition to autocrats in Rome. But the basic status of the Stoic conception as an ideal that could never be realized is crucial. For it meant that the conception could never as it were be superseded either. It always remained there - precisely as an ideal. Thus the Stoic theory lent itself ideally to having a central place in an ethico-political public discourse: it was direct1y relevant to politics, but it could never be superseded. What then about Epicureanism? The differences from Stoicism are many and important: the emphasis on pleasure, the understanding of the gods and their role in relation to human beings, the denial that the moral virtues have value in themselves, and so forth. Also, the general tone is very different. In Epicurus there is a lack of cant that has some counterpart in early Stoicism, but none whatever in the more conservative Middle Stoicism from Panaetius onwards (2nd century BCE). The crucial issue, however, is how Epicureanism was understood by its proponents and adherents in relation to the question of participation in society. Was Epicureanism understood as enjoining or implying that one should opt out of society, or was it not? What, in particular, is the import of the famous injunction of Epicurus to "live unknown?" The place to look is evidently, as in the case of Stoicism, Epicurus' s statements ab out how his "wise man" will live. Whereas according to the Stoics the wise man will take part in politics, that is, in the active life of the citizen of his 7rOALC;,15 Epicurus said that "he will not take part in politics ... nor make hirns elf a tyrant nor turn Cynic . . . nor be a mendicant" (Diog. Laert. 10.119). The reason seems to be that these types of activity are highly unlikely to lead to the kind of inner security that constitutes the human "end" according to Epicurus. And so it looks as if Epicurus is suggesting that people should turn their backs on society and instead concentrate on the so~:t of communal life in sec1usion and centering on the notion of friendship (qn"A,Lcx), for which life in Epicurus's own school might serve as a model.
15S ee
Cicero, On Ends 3.68, and cf. Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta 3.611-624.
24
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HEUENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 25
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
and other leaders). Even though a king might not be an Epicurean, he might in fact benefit from having an Epicurean wise man at his court. At the same time, of course, the Epicurean wise man is guarding his distance from an active political life, and this is where his inner-philosophical friendship and the model of life in Epicurus's own house come in. Here, inside the group, the Epicurean wise man is concerned only about developing concretely and enjoying the good life as seen by Epicureanism, but since the Epicurean wise man also does relate to society at large, his life inside the group acquires the status of a model for what life should be like in the general society. Thus the structure itself of Epicurean thought in relation to society is closely comparable to the one we noted in Stoicism with its development in thought of an ideal society, and its direct engagement in society as it is found, an engagement, however, which continues to keep a distance from it since it is constantly being seen in the light of the ideal. Both the Stoic and the Epicurean wise man are first and foremost philosophers, who remain dedicated all through to truth, instead of being just directly and practically involved with the goods that are handled in the political life - those goods that Aristotle had already termed "the goods that are fought about" in the ordinary social game (ra 7rSPLP.aX'Y/TC;X ex:ya()a) and defined as the "material" of moral virtue (e.g., Eudemian Ethics 8.3, 1248b27-28; Politics 2.9, 1271b7-8). But what they offer, as philosophers, are perspectives on the political life, and it is in asking and answering the ethical, "practical" question (What shall I do? How shall I live?) as (also) a political question relating precisely to the handling and distribution of those goods that they have their raison d' erre.
This is a very common picture of Epicureanism,16 and it is the one which lends itself immediately to the comparison of the Epicurean groups with the early Christian groups.1 7 But there is something very importantly wrong with it. It is true that there are many things done by ordinary welleducated people that the Epicurean wise man will not do, for example, "make fine speeches" (Diog. Laert. 10.118) and "compose panegyric" (120). But he will "take a suit into court" (120 - as opposed to making fine speeches), and he will "leave written words behind hirn" (120 - as opposed to composing panegyric). Similarly he will make money - but only from his philosophy if he lacks financial means; and he will pay court to a king though only temporarily. He will also found a school - bu~ not in such a manner as to draw the crowd after him. And he will give lectures in public - but only if he is asked (all this too comes from Diog. Laert. 10.120). The idea seems clear. The Epicurean wise man will take part in ordinary social life but only where necessary and at a low key. His mind is not primarily focused on this practical type of activity, but elsewhere. But does this imply that he would prefer to turn his back on society altogether? I think not. Rather , his withdrawal should be understood as a critique of contemporary social and politicallife, and also as a philosopher's critique of orators and people like Isocrates who just went along playing the social game for money and prestige without taking seriously the proper philosophical task of formulating a conception of the good society, a conception which might even, and· in Epicurus's own case did, question the traditional values. Epicurus did not write off contemporary, ordinary social life. He did not just want to leave it behind. Rather , he wanted it, ideally, to be reformed in accordance with his own understanding of the good life and society. That is the proper direction it should take. And so I would agree strongly with Anthony Long and David Sedley, who state: "When all the evidence is duly considered, Epicureanism would be better regarded as a radical but selective critique of contemporary politics, rather than the apolitical posture with which it is frequently identified" (1.137). Epicureans too are participating in society in the sense that they are offering, at the level of ethico-political discourse, a way of life which was perceived as at least relevant by the upper layers of society (rulers
A Specijic Piece
0/ Substantive
Teaching
There is one more point of similarity between Stoicism and Epicureanism, which pertains directly to one of the substantive problems of social and political conflict that I mentioned at the beginning. This is the thoroughgoing universalism that is implied, if not necessarily spelt out, in either doctrine, the idea that socially and culturally based distinctions between people are merely conventional, with no grounding in any natural differences. This holds for women and slaves in relation to men and masters and for non-Greek cultures ("barbarians") in relation to Greeks. In the case of Stoicism there can be no doubt that at least the basic germ of this idea was part of Zeno's original conception. In his "dream-image" of society there were to be no social institutions like those regulating the social distinction between masters and slaves (i.e., ownership) or men and women
16It is a crucial premise in Bernard Frischer's book, for example, when he describes Epicureanism as more than a "subculture" (like the other philosophical schools - but they were not "subcultures!"), in fact "a genuinely positive and legitimate alternative to the dominant culture of Greece" (52). "Philosophy no longer criticizes or serves the dominant culture; it turns its back on it, secedes from it, and, most importantly, puts something positive in its place" (61). 17Por one (cautious) example of this see Meeks:83-84, with references. An older, extreme example is DeWitt (1954a; 1954b). _i-~
J
26
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HEUENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 27
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
(i.e., marriage; Diog. Laert. 7.32-33). It is unclear whether Zeno drew any conclusions from his basic idea with respect to issues of ethnicity. But much later, Plutarch' s essay on the fortune or virtue of Alexander shows that Zeno's ideas had in fact been developed in such a way as to cover that issue too,18 In that fascinating essay Plutarch discusses whether Alexander's feats were due to his personal qualities (his virtue) or rather to his good fortune and comes down stranglyon the side of virtue. In fact, for all practical purposes (and that, Plutarch argues, is what counts) Alexander was a philosopher! For example, what he brought with hirn on his campaigns was not just, as we know, the works of Homer, but philosophical teaching in the form of treatises on fearlessness and courage, on self-restraint and greatness of mind (327F-328A). And his aim was to "soften," that is, spread civilizati on among, foreign princes, to establish Greek cities among the savage peoples, and teach laws and peace to lawless and unruly tribes (328B) - for example, that they should respect the marriage bond, till the soil, take care of their parents instead of killing them, revere their mothers instead of marrying them, and bury their dead instead of eating them (328C). What Zeno had written in his much-admired Republic, that Alexander made real: He "brought the deed to the word" (329A-B). The following section, 329C-D reads:
philanthropie king to acquire the goodwill of the conquered by showing respect for their clothing (" so that they might continue constant in loving the Macedonians as rulers and not hating them as enemies"). Conversely it would be the mark of an unwise and vainglorious mind to admire the Greek . clothing and disdain the Persian one, or again vice versa, "holding stubbornly, in the manner of an unreasoning child, to the clothing in which the custom of one's country, like a nurse, had clothed one." All on earth should become subject to one law (330D-E) and one form of government (7rOALreia): And if the deity (OCiLJ.l.WV) that had sent down Alexander's soul into this world had not quickly recalled hirn, one law would have governed all people and they would have looked toward one rule of justice (ev OLKCiWV) as though toward a common light. Therefore ... the very idea (u7ro8eatt;) of his expedition establishes hirn as a philosopher in his purpose not to win for hirnself luxury and extravagant living, but for all people concord (oJ.l.ovota), peace, and community of interests.
His aim was "to disseminate and shower the blessings of Greek justice (evOLKLa) and peace over every nation" (332A). It was also to bring the Greeks to India and beyond the Caucasus. There they would find people (the "gymnosophists") who were holy, a law unto themselves (avrOVOjlOL) , and more frugal even than the Greek Diogenes (the famous Cynic). Through Alexander these people must come to hear of Diogenes and he 0/ them (332B), and so Alexander's task (according to this fictive dialogue with Diogenes) was to "change the standard of coinage and stamp foreign states with the impress of Greek government" (332C). All this is not only pure fiction but also highly romanticized. It probably also betrays its late provenance in the slight, religious veneer that it exhibits. Still, the basic ideas go back precisely to the philosophies that were being formulated in Athens in the period immediately after Alexander . Did Epicurus too have universalist tendencies? On the one hand there is his own explicit statement in Diogenes Laertius (10.117) that "not every bodily constitution nor every nationality (e(Jvo~) will allow a man to become wise." On the other there are striking statements in the late Epicurean Diogenes of Oenoanda (2nd century CE) pointing in a different direction:
He believed that he had come from the Gods as a mediator for all (KOtVOt; apJ.l.0arr,t;) and a reconciler of the whole world (5tCiAACiKT~t; TWV OAWV) and therefore he conquered by force of arms those whom he could not unite by force of speech, bringing together into one body all people from everywhere, mixing together in one great loving-cup, as it were, people's lives, their characters, their marriages, their very habits of life. He bade them all consider as their fatherland (7rCiTPLt;) the whole inhabited earth (~ OiKOVJ.l.iP'TJ) , as their OtKP07rOAtt; and garrison (c/>povpa) his camp, as their relatives (av-Y-Y8v8Lt;) all good people and as foreigners only the wicked. They should not distinguish (OWpLr8W) between Greek and foreign by the (Greek) c10ak (xAaJ.l.~t;) or shield (7r8AT7J) or the (Persian) sword (OtKt/laK7Jt;) or the Median jacket (KaV07Jt;) , but the distinguishing mark of the Greek should be seen in virtue and that oftheforeigner in badness. Clothing and food, marriage and life-habits they should regard as common to all , being blended into one by ties of blood and children.
In each segment of the earth each people has its own fatherland (7rCiTpLt;). But in the whole circuit of this world there is one fatherland for all: the whole earth, and one horne: the world (Lang and Sedley:22P).
In his own clothing Alexander provided a model of this (330A-B) since he wore a composite dress adapted from both Persian and Macedonian fashion. This he did for strategie reasons, wanting as leader of both nations and as a 18Lang and Sedley deny that Zeno's own vision was "internationalist" (1.435-436). That may be correct, but the basic idea of rejecting conventional social distinctions in favor of a society built on something shared by all human beings (viz. rationality) is c1early there in Zeno.
I Ii
I
Then truly the life of the gods will pass over to men. For everything will be full of justice and mutual friendship (c/>tACiAA7JALa) , and there will come to be no need of city-walls or laws or ... (Lang and Sedley:22S).
28
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
These statements may in fact reflect the ideology of the Roman empire rather than anything earlier. 19 But a slightly more complex picture of the development seems preferable. On the one hand it is probably true that Epicurus hirnself did not in fact think of his wisdom as having a place outside the framework of the Greek 1rOAU;, and so Long and Sedley are probably right in c1aiming that "the world for which Epicurus devised his own social prescriptions continues to be that of the Greek 1rOALC;" (Long and Sedley:1.136). On the other hand it seems likely, from the whole approach to ethical and political issues that Epicurus shares with the Stoics, that we should see the later development precisely as a development of something that was already implicit in the original system. 20
Cases oj Interaction with Society Suppose, then, that I am right in seeing Hellenistic philosophy (at least Stoicism and Epicureanism) as directly relevant to life in the 1rOAU;, though also as having its essence in formulating a critique of that life and in guarding (and in the Epicurean case even developing) a distance from it. If we now turn from theory to practice, how did the Hellenistic philosophers interact with society? A few examples will show the wide range of such interaction. If we look first at Stoicism, there is a story about Zeno having been invited to the Macedonian court by Antigonus Gonatas (Zeno did not go, but sent Persaeus).21 There is also a similar story ab out Cleanthes having been invited to go to the Alexandrian court (he did not go either, but sent Sphaerus; Erskine:97-99). Then there is the possibility that Sphaerus played a role as adviser to the Spartan Kings Agis and Cleomenes in their attempt to introduce radical change in Sparta around 230 BCE.22 And there is a similar possibility that the Stoic Blossius played a role in the Gracchan revolution 19This is suggested by Long and Sedley:2.143. 20Thus the picture of the deve10pment will be the same as in the case of Stoicism discussed above. The wh01e issue of universalism in ancient thought from Homer to the end of the Roman empire is discussed by H. C. Baldry. Baldry may be right that "the notion of mankind as an aggregate, the sum-total of individual human beings spread over all the various countries of the inhabited world - mankind, in fact, viewed geographicaZly" (Baldry's emphasis, 167) is a fairly late idea, with which midd1e and late Hellenistic geographers and historians like Eratosthenes, P01ybius, and Posidonius "enriched the philosophie concept of mankind" (189). But even though he discusses, for examp1e, Zeno's Republic extensively, he hard1y pays sufficient attention to the normative universalism that it contains. 21See the discussion in Erskine:79-84. 22Por a discussion, see Erskine, chapter 6.
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 29 100 years later in Rome. 23 There are also the well-known cases of Stoic opposition to autocratic rule in Rome: Cato Minor, Brutus, Helvidius Priscus, and (in his own way) Seneca. These are examples of Stoics who in one way or another argued for social change. But there were also Stoics who rather argued for a status quo of society. One of these was Panaetius, who was political adviser to Scipio Aemilianus, another his Roman spokesman (in ethics and politics) Cicero. Even here, however, it seems c1ear that the normative content of Stoicism did play some role in mitigating political conservatism. In addition to acting as political advisers, philosophers also served as political ambassadors. Famous is the Athenian embassy to Rome in 155 BCE of three philosophers (in fact three heads of schools), an Academic (Carneades), a Stoic (Diogenes of Babylon) , and a Peripatetic (Critolaus). And Panaetius, whose father had been one of three ambassadors from Rhodes to Rome in 169 BCE, hirns elf served as co-ambassador with Scipio on an official travel of his to the East. Another indication that philosophy was taken seriously by contemporary society is the fact that philosophers were quite often expelled from the cities. Admittedly, they shared this fate with astrologers, magicians, and representatives of non-accepted religions, but since nobody would probably criticize the philosophers for associating with dark powers, it will precisely be their political views that made them dangerous. How, then, about the Epicureans? Did they also interact in practice with society in a such a way that the picture I am sketching of the social location of the Hellenistic philosophies can be maintained? We already know Epicurus's ambivalent theoretical attitude towards participation in social and political life. And we certainly cannot point to any line of Epicurean philosophers who took direct part in politics in the way the Stoics did. Compared to the Stoics, Epicureans did live "unknown" in this respect. Still, there are indications that Epicureanism also maintained the relationship with society that we should expect from the statements that we noted earlier about how the Epicurean wise man will live. Thus, if we consider the so-called Epicurean revival in the late Roman republic, we find good examples of Epicurean "house-philosophers," i.e., philosophers who had taken up a position as assistant educators, men of letters, and so forth to a Roman nobleman. Philodemus is the most famous, an Epicurean whom Cicero feels required to flatter as a highly cultured person (7rEP1rOALTTJ<;) even when he is attacking Philodemus's patron C. Calpurnius Piso (Against Piso 70; cf. On Ends 2.119). But here Romans of high status 23See Erskine, chapter 7.
, 30
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
were only continuing the tradition of the Hellenistic kings. Thus there is inscriptional proof that in the first half of the 2nd century BCE an Epicurean philosopher named Philonides spent some time at the courts of Antioch of Antiochus IV Epiphanes and his successor Demetrius I Soter. This Philonides is said to have turned Epiphanes into an adherent of the school and to have been busy collecting and ordering the letters of Epicurus and his immediate followers, possibly for the library of the Seleucids in Antioch - at least he is said to have gone up to the court "bringing with hirn a whole throng of philologists. "24 It is true, and important, that we do not find Epicureans giving explicit political advice to a ruler. 25 But the fact remains that Epicureanism too belongs squarely within the sphere of ethico-political public discourse in terms of which the upper layers of Greco-Roman society defined themselves.
Epicureanism Before conc1uding, I insert a few remarks specifically about Epicureanism. As already noted, Epicureanism has often been interpreted in a way that removes it entirely from the sphere of ethico-political public discourse, the existence of which I am trying to establish. A few elements in Epicurean practice that probably lie behind this interpretation should be explicitly mentioned. They all turn on the exc1usivist, often almost private, character of the Epicurean school. Thus, for example, Epicurus took steps in his will to ensure that his birthday was solemnly celebrated each year, a custom that Cicero ridiculed (On Ends 2.101-103) as unworthy of a philosopher. Is this not a c1ear sign that Epicureanism is something other than a philosophy, perhaps even a religion and a highly exclusivist one? Can one still say that it belongs in the sphere of ethico-political public discourse? In Epicurus's will, however, this is but one of a number of occasions for celebration that is mentioned, for example, the meeting held every month on the twentieth to commemorate Metrodorus and Epicurus hirnself in accordance with a custom which was already in practice when Epicurus was alive. Clearly what we are witnessing is the institutionalization of symposia for a group of philosophical friends, with the added element that they (or at least some of them) were living together in the same house as a family - in fact, as we saw, the group
24The reports on Philonides are discussed by H. Usener. 25And DeWitt's suggestion (1954a:334) that we should see Philonides behind Epiphanes's supposed policy in relation to the Jews is fanciful.
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 31 seems to have sprung from Epicurus' s own family proper. It is difficult to see that there is anything especially exclusivist about this, something intrinsicaily opposed to the 7fOAU; that harbored the school. What, then, about the oft-mentioned oath that Epicureans were supposed to take to Epicurus? Is this not an indication of a radical opposition to the surrounding society, of an attitude c1early evincing that Epicureans were supposed to have opted out of society? The supposed oath is really a pledge, about which we know no more than that Philodemus refers to a pledge of some Epicureans (when and where is not clear) that "we will obey Epicurus, in accordance with whom we have chosen to live. "26 The word that I have translated as "chosen" comes from the Greek verb underlying the official word for a "school" (a'{peau;) , and so it seems appropriate to quote what Long and Sedley say about any of the Hellenistic schools: "School loyalty meant loyalty to the founder of the sect . . . and it is in that light that the degree of intellectual independence within each school must be viewed" (their emphasis, 1.5). No doubt (as Long and Sedley also note) Epicurus had left relatively few issues to his successors for genuinely open debate, and so the late 2nd century CE Platonist Numenius can say that "Epicurus's school resembles a true city-state of sorts, with very little dis agreement and having one shared mind and one opinion, for which reason they were and are and apparently will continue to be zealous disciples" (Fr 24 des Places). But again it is not c1ear that this should be understood as being intrinsically out of character in a philosophical school with the social location that I have ascribed to them. But is there not an element of preaching about Epicureanism that does not remove it from the level of proper philosophical public discourse, the level of ethical and political deliberation? It is true that Epicurus hirnself says that "the wise man will be a dogmatist and not a mere sceptic" (Diog. Laert. 10.120), but the Stoics to~ were dogmatists, and the point seems rather to be an intra-philosophical one. But what, then, ab out Epicurus's stated resolve "to issue the kind of oracle that would benefit all men, even if not a soul should understand him" (Vatican Sayings 29, DeWitt's translation, 1954a:27-28)? Is this not an indication of his "missionary zeal" (De Witt 1954a:28)? No, for in its effect, at least, this is a pure mistranslation. What Epicurus is saying is that even if what he says when he is doing 4>vawAo"(La (Epicurus's term for solid philosophy) should appear just as opaque to the many as the sayings of an oracle - and so they would not understand it - he would prefer speaking his mind openly to assenting to the false opinions of the many and so being 26Philodemus, On Frank Criticism fr. 45,8-11 Olivieri.
32
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
praised by them. Epicurus was zealous on behalf of the truth - but not especially with the aim of convincing the many. In fact another Vatican Saying (52, Long and Sedley:22F5) that uses the interesting term "procIaim" (KYJPUTTBtV) displays a similarly detached attitude toward the faulty beliefs of the many: Friendship dances round the whole world procIaiming to us all that we wake up and congratulate each other (on our happiness). Here friendship is said to be dancing round the world - hardly the proper word for one who is earnestly pressing on with his message to make as many as possible join his creed. At most, Epicurus is expressing his satisfaction that the joyful message is spreading - as it were by itself. What about his letters to his friends? Are they not a missionary tool of the first importance, virtually proving his missionary zeal? There is an interesting passage in Plutarch's small treatise on Epicurus's injunction to "Live unknown" in which Plutarch slyly objects to Epicurus that if his injunction is aimed at people who are doing good, then Epicurus is teIling the famous Theban general Epameinondas not to be a general, he is teIling Lycurgus not to create laws, and so forth - and in fact you are telling yourself not to "write to your friends in Asia, not to enlist recruits from Egypt, not to guard over the youth of Lampsacus, and not to circulate books to every man and every woman in which you advertise your wisdom" (On Living Unknown 1128F-1129A). The argument is, of course, that these are things that Epicurus had in fact done, and so he is inconsistent in cIaiming that one should live unknown. It is not cIear in every detail what Plutarch is referring to. The letters to his friends in Asia are probably letters to groups of Epicureans like the one Epicurus left in Lampsacus when he moved to Athens. But if they had anything like the character of the three letters contained in Diogenes Laertius, Lives 0/ Eminent Philosophers Book X, they will have been semi-official and so also meant for publication. The reference to the enlisting of recruits in Egypt is uncIear as is that to "guarding over" the youth of Lampsacus. But the final reference to Epicurus's circulation of books to the general public in which he advertised his wisdom is cIear enough - and revealing. We can say: Either Epicurus wrote, for example, letters to his friends which were strictly private and hence addressed to specific people who were in fact Epicurus's friends (later, then, these letters may have been collected by devout Epicureans like Philonides) or else, as Plutarch implies, he wrote works for publication (including probably "Ietters to his friends," which were also meant for publication). In the first case, we cannot ascribe to Epicurus any missionary purpose. In the latter case, which is apparently the correct one, at least according to Plutarch, what Epicurus did was just what any philosopher (or rhetor, or sophist) did: publish "in order to advertise his wis-
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 33 dom" (kTrLOBtKVVp.ivoC; TTJV aocpLex.v). The fact, therefore, that Epicurus wrote "Ietters to his friends" (and we have some of them) goes no way toward showing that there was any special missionary ur ge to Epicureanism as compared with the other philosophical schools. On tbe contrary, what the Plutarch passage sbows (quite against Plutarch's intent) is that the interpretation of the injunction to live unknown wbich underlies Plutarch's specious argument (supposedly showing that Epicurus was inconsistent) is false. To "live unknown" in the sense intended by Epicurus does not in any way imply that one does not participate in tbe normal activities, with respect to advertising one's views, of a Hellenistic philosopbical scboo1. 27 And these were essentially public. 28
Conclusions I have argued tbat philosophy at the beginning of the Hellenistic period was beld in higb esteem socially and was very much in the educated public eye as holding out the bope for expert, technical knowledge about how human beings should live, both individually and socially. I have also argued that in spite of cIear and important differences on a number of philosophically crucial points, the two most obvious protagonists on the philosopbical scene, Stoicism and Epicureanism, also had a number of points in common which made them fit for playing the role of candidates for supplying that knowledge. Finally, I have argued that again in spite of real differences between Stoicism and Epicureanism in the actual role played by the two philosopbies in society, there is no reason to interpret Epicureanism in such a way that it does not belong witbin the sphere of ethico-political public discourse. On the contrary, there is every reason to insist that it belongs precisely there. Tbe upshot for the questions about the Sitz im Leben of Greco-Roman ethical and political philosophy from whicb I started is the following. At the beginning of the Hellenistic period a socially supported sphere of ethicopolitical discourse had come into being which provided the framework for the social functioning of the philosophers. It was by participating in this sphere 27Moreover, Plutarch's interpretation probably sterns from his desire to denigrate the Epicurean school by presenting it as if it were meant to be some kind of clandestine society. 28It is instructive to contrast this character of Epicurus' s letters with the character of the Pauline letters. The latter have no doubt taken over very many characteristics of Greek and Roman public communication, but even though some of Paul' s letters were c1early designed for more readerships than one, they were not intended as public comrnunication in the way I am suggesting Epicurus's letters were. Paul did not participate (directly) in the sphere of ethico-political discourse that I have identified.
34
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
that philosophers would recruit pupils to their schools and also attract adherents for their views among those who had not frequented the school. And it was in the same way that philosophers would also have a more direct political impact on political rulers, who often would not, and probably could not quite, neglect the ethical and political views of the philosophers. This was an indirect way of social functioning, as opposed to a more direct concern about recruitment, mission, and social engineering. But it was no less effective for that - due, precisely, to the social force of the newly created Öffentlichkeit. This is not to say that the impact of philosophy on political life will necessarily have been very great. That wh oIe issue is at once extremely important and extremely difficult to decide in any precise and verifiable way. But it would also be foolish to deny that Hellenistic philosophy may in fact have had considerable influence. If my attempt to identify a special sphere of ethico-political public discourse has been successful, then the impact must have been considerable, though not necessarily directly so. For then Hellenistic philosophy is even to be defined in terms of its relationship with that social institution which had the strongest cultural power, in Greece itself and wherever Greeks came into contact with foreigners, whether in the East or in the West. That institution is the Greek 7rOALreLex in all its many forms. Even when, as became so importantly the case in the Hellenistic period, the form of rule was not, at the highest level at least, that of the 7rOAL7eLex, but one of kingship, .the institution of the 7rOAL7eLa. (one might even say of "constitutional" rule) remained in force, both in fact (in the many cities which were still constitutionally governed, though not with an independent foreign policy) and also in theory in the constant preoccupation of Greeks and Romans with constitutional rule even when the ruler was a monarch.
A Final Test I shall end by illustrating the last point through referring to the famous report given by Philostratus in his Life of Apollonius of Tyana (5.27-40) of a set of conversations with three intellectuals that the Roman emperor Vespasian is supposed to have had in Alexandria immediately after he had possessed himself of the throne. Vespasian's conversation partners were Apollonius himself (the neo-Pythagorean sage) and two philosophers (as they are called): Euphrates and Dio Chrysostom - the same Dio whose whole life and career are so very germane to this essay.
ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 35 It is a striking story, almost certainly fictive and highly romantic. Vespasian arrives in Alexandria and seeks out Apollonius in order to get his blessing, as it were, for his new kingship. He gets it - but also the advice to observe the mean as king. For God hirnself has defined equity (la07T/C;) as consisting in the mean (lleao7T/C;, 28). Vespasian next declares that he wishes to state to Apollonius his justification (a7rOA0-YLex) for assuming royal power, in the hope that Apollonius will then justify his actions to others. Vespasian's justification is that he hirnself constantly behaved soberly and moderately, whereas Roman ePlperors before hirn have been lacking precisely on this point, even Claudius· who (as we have been told in chap. 27) went astray in spite of having a reputation for being fond of culture in all its forms (29). Apollonius again gives hirn the gods' blessing (30). On the next day, however, Apollonius introduces the two philosophers to Vespasian (31). Vespasian states that he has already justified his acts to Apollonius. Today, he says turning to Dio, he wishes for them to "philosophize together" concerning the decisions he has made, in order that his" general policy should be both as noble as possible and salutary to mankind. " Apollonius replies on behalf of the others and formulates the problem: how a sovereign ought to rule. First Euphrates recommends in a long speech that Vespasian should restore the Roman republic by putting an end to monarchy and giving democracy (70 70V oi!1l0V Kpa70C;) to the Romans (33). Next Dio supports this. He welcomes the idea of democracy, but adds: I fear lest the servility to which these successive tyrannies [i. e. those of the previous emperors] have reduced the Romans will render any change difficult to effect; I doubt if they are able to comport themselves as free men or even to lift their eyes to a democracy, any more than people who have been kept in the dark are able to look on a sudden blaze of light.
Dio therefore recommends Vespasian "to give the people of Rome the right to choose their own polity and, if they choose a democracy, to allow it them." Vespasian is not pleased. Fortunately, Apollonius comes to the rescue and argues for the monarchy that Vespasian has already assumed. After all, "the government of one man, if it provides all round for the welfare of the community, is democracy" (35)! The point should be clear. Even at such a late date as the second half of the second century CE (for the time of Philostratus' s writing), rulers needed philosophers to give them legitimacy, and the terms of the debate were exactly the same as 500 years earlier, going right back in fact to Herodotus, whose famous debate ab out the kind of rule to be followed in Persia Philostratus is obviously u~ing for his own purposes . It is difficult to find a
;.,
l
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ENGBERG-PEDERSEN: HELLENISTIC ÖFFENTLICHKEIT 37
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
more eloquent testimony to the prestige of "philosophy" in ancient society in the period we have been considering. Again the question may be raised whether this is not mere windowdressing, the aim of which on Vespasian's part would only be (if the story were true at aIl) to obtain some kind of legitimacy for his usurpation of power. It certainly also is window-dressing. But that, in a way, only serv~s to emphasize that there was this sphere of ethico-political public discourse, which even a soldier and autocrat like Vespasian would do weIl not to ignore. A modern analogue, which is obviously also historically connected with what I have been talking about, is the need feIt even in dictatorships for some kind of constitutional backing in the form of elections, parliaments, and the like. Nobody will have any illusions about their real power, but it would also be foolish to deny that there is something here with more influence than none whatever. That phenomenon, together with the modem sphere of public discourse which supports it, is derived historically from the sphere of ethicopolitical public discourse that I have identified. It is because Hellenistic philosophy was part of that sphere that the philosophers had no special sense of mission and no special idea of strategies for recruitment. And it is for the same reason that they could contribute to solving social and political conflicts in the Hellenistic and early Roman periods without engaging directly in social engineering. They already belonged at a level of public discourse where they would be influential just by participating in that discourse. 29
Erskine, Andrew 1990 The Hellenistic Stoa: Political Thought and Action. London: Duckworth. Frischer, Bemard 1982 The Sculpted Word: Epicureanism and Philosophical Recruitment in Andent Greece. Berkeley: University of Califomia. Gigante, M. 1969
Habermas, Jürgen 1962 Strukturwandel der Öffentlich.keit: Untersuchungen zu einer Kategorie der bürgerlichen Gesellschaft. Neuwied: H. Luchterhand. Long, A. A., and D. N. Sedley 1987 The Hellenistic Philosophers. 2 Vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University. Lynch, J. P. 1972 Aristotle's School: A Study of a Greek Educational Institution. Berkeley: University of Califomia. Malherbe, Abraham J. 1986 Moral Exhortation: A Greco-Roman Sourcebook. Library of Early Christianity 4. Ed. Wayne Meeks. Philadelphia: Westminster. Meeks, Wayne A. 1983 The First Urban Christians: The Sodal World ofthe Apostle Paul. New Haven: Yale University. Mikkola, E. 1954
Works Cited Baldry, H. C. 1965 The Unity of Mankind in Greek Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University.
Usener, H. 1901
Dewitt, N. W. 1936 "Organization and Procedure in Epicurean Groups." CP 31 :205-211. 1954a Epicurus and his Philosophy. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota. 1954b St. Paul and Epicurus. Minneapo1is: University of Minnesota. Dihle, A. 1986
"Philodeme: Sur la liberte de parole." Association Guillaume Bude. Actes du VIIIe Congres. Paris.
"Philosophie - Fachwissenschaft - Allgemeinbildung." pp. 185-231 in Aspects de la philosophie hellenistique. Fondation Hardt 32. Ed. H. Flashar, O. Gigon. Vandoeuvres-Geneve.
29This essay was written for a conference at Emory University in 1991. Shortly after the conference, the author consented to have it published. As time went by, he secretly hoped that nothing would come of this. The essay is published here in the hope that it will stimulate more comprehensive work to develop and consolidate the perspective that it offers on" the social role of philosophy in the Greco-Roman world.
_I_-~-
Isokrates: Seine Anschauungen im Lichte Seiner Schriften. Annales Academiae Scientiarum Fennicae. SeT. B. Tom. 89. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Tiedeakatemia. "Philonides." Rheinisches Museum 56: 145-148.
CHAPTER2 -~
EXPANSION AND RECRUITMENT AMONG HELLENISTIC RELIGIONS: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM D. E. Aune Loyola University 01 Chicago
Introduction Within the context of a symposium on the subject of recruitment, conquest, and conflict of religious cults and philosophical schools in the Hellenistic world, it is appropriate to inquire into the factors which might account for the apparently enormous appeal and success of Mithraism during the period of its initial appearance in the late first century CE to its decline in the fourth century. Of all the mystery cults with eastern origins (or eastem pretensions) which penetrated the Roman Empire, the massive evidence for the pervasive presence of Mithraism throughout the Roman Empire suggests that it was the most popular and influential of such private cults. A focus on Mithraism is also appropriate in view of the increasing scholarly interest in Mithraism evident during the last twenty years. Franz Cumont, the founder of the modem scientific study of Mithraism, regarded his work on Mithraism as a contribution to the issue of the success of Christianity in the Roman empire. In his magnum opus on Mithraism, he focused on the subject of the dissemination of the cult in a chapter entitled "La propagation dans l'Empire Romain" (1896-99:1.242-77). Despite the mass of material evidence for Mithraism, the paucity of literary evidence means that there is a great deal that archaeological sites and artifacts cannot reveal about Mithraism. According to Cumont (1956a:39-40): Despite their frequency, the epigraphic texts and sculptured monuments throw but very imperfect light on the local history of Mithraism. It is impossible for us to follow the detailed steps in advancement, to distinguish the concurrent influences exercised by the different churches [eglises], to draw up a picture of the work of conversion, pursuing its course from city to city and province to province. All that we can do is to indicate in large outlines in what countries the new faith was propagated and who were in general the champions [apotres] that advocated fprechee] it.
Though somewhat obscured by the English translation, the French text makes
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
it abundantly cIear that Cumont has conceptualized Mithraism based on a Christian model, a fact revealed by the presence of such terms as "eglises," "conversion," "apatres," and "prechee" (Simon:461). Cumont, of course, was not the only scholar to exaggerate the similarities between Christianity and ancient Mediterranean mystery cults. 1 It is nevertheless important, particularly in enterprises which are inherently comparative, such as the present International Symposium, to avoid skewing the evidence by analyzing each religious cult or philosophical school in its own right and to avoid imposing on it an alien conceptual framework. It is quite possible that despite the fact that both Christianity and Mithraism are categorized as "religions," they have functioned in very different ways for their respective adherents. Mithraism exhibits a number of phenomenological similarities with other ancient mystery cults. (1) The focus of the cult was a seven-staged initiation ritual based on the depiction and perhaps recitation of a mythical narrative involving certain vicissitudes in the life of the hero. (2) Like other mystery cults, but unlike Judaism and Christianity, Mithraism was not excIusivistic but rather syncretistic. Yet Mithraism differed from other cults in several significant ways (Nock 1937:108-113): (1) Women were usually excIuded from the cult (Verrnaseren 1963:162-65),2 perhaps because women were regularly excIuded from most collegia tenuiorum (a possible social model for most Mithraic groups), though they were usually incIuded in most mystery cults. (2) Moral requirements appear to have been demanded of initiants (though evidence for this is slim).3 (3) No initiants appear to have been Iranian (Le. no Iranian names occur in inscriptions); only a few survivals of the Iranian language are reflected in inscriptions; there are no known links between Mithraic cults and Persia, the supposed place of its origin (La Piana: 183203). Unlike many mystery cults, Mithraism was not primarily constituted by members of a particular ethnic group; and so Mithraism had neither an IThis was accompanied by the tendency to minimize the differences between the various mystery cults, for example, by supposing that the dubious category of the dying and rising god was the central myth of all mystery cults. The weaknesses of this category have been exposed by Smith (521-527). 2The only text in which women are specifically mentioned is in Porphyry De abstinentia 4.16 (quoting Pallas): "Thus they [the Mithraists] called the initiates who had been fully admitted into their Mysteries 'lions,' women 'hyenas,' and the underlings 'ravens. '" Gordon (1980:57-62) argues that this passage does not support the indusion of some women in the cult, but rather, Mithraists used the designation "hyena" of women because of its negative associations. 3porphyry De antro nympharum 15 (trans. Arethusa): "So in the Lion mysteries, when honey is poured instead of water for purification on the hands of the initiates, they are exhorted to keep them pure from everything distressing, harmful, and loathsome."
AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM 41 ethnic homeland nor a diaspora population. (4) There was no professional Mithraic priesthood. (5) Mithraism had its own distinctive cosmogony and eschatology. (6) Again unlike other mystery cults Ivlithraism had many of the features of a secret society in which the members (excIusively male) had strong mutual ties. There are a number of important questions about Mithraism which are relevant for the present Symposium: (1) What was the basis for the apparently widespread appeal of Mithraism? (2) Given the limited size of the mithraea which have been excavated, how large were local Mithraic groupS?4 (3) What factors account for the iconographic and architectural similarities which characterized Mithraism throughout the Roman Empire? (4) What were the major me ans used to propagate Mithraism? (5) Was Mithraism really a serious competitor of Christianity, or is that simply a modern supposition of scholars (Simon:457-78; Brandon 1954-55:107-114)?
The Evidence for Mithraism The evidence for Mithraism is primarily archaeological, iconographical, and epigraphical. The little literary evidence there is falls into three broad cIassifications: 5 (1) Sympathetic interpretations by Neoplatonic authors (Numenius and Cronius, both preserved in Porphyry). (2) Occasional notices about Mithraism found in Greco-Roman writers. (3) The name Mithras is occasionally incIuded in invocations in magical procedures. 6 (4) Largely unsympathetic notices in Christi an literature beginning with Justin Martyr in the mid-second century CE.? 4No one knows how many members of a Mithraic collegium would gather at one time in a mithraeum, though it is generally thought that the size of a mithraeum must have some relationship to the number of initiants who belonged to the local group. The earliest mithraeum at Dura was a room about 15 x 17 meters. 5Most of the references to Mithraism in ancient literature have been collected by Geden. 6The "great god Relios Mithras" is addressed once in the so-called "Mithras Liturgy," i.e. PGM IV.475-834, line 482. A typical syncretistic invocation occurs in PGM V.4: "Zeus, Relios, Mithra, Sarapis, unconquered one [aniketa] , Meliouchos, Melikertes, Meligenetor"; invictus and insuperabilis, the Latin equivalents of aniketos ("unconquerable, victorious"), are frequently found in dedicatory inscriptions to Mithras. The divine names Meliouchos, Relios, and Mithra also occur in the same context in PGM III.99-100, while Relios Mithra is mentioned in PGM III.462. "Mithreu Mithra" occurs in an isolated manner in the midst of a sequence of voces magicae in Ostracon 2.8 (Preisendanz:2.233). 7Justin 1 Apol. 66.4; Dial. 70.1; 78.6; Tertullian De bapt. 5; De cor. 15; Adv. Marc. 1.13; De praescr. ha er. 40; Apol. 8; Origen Contra Celsum 1.9; 6.21; Commodian Instructiones 1.13; Ambrosiaster Quaest. veto et nov. test. 114; Firmicus Maternus De errore 4, 20; Gregory Nazianzus Or. 4.70; 39.5; Ad Nemesium 7.265ff.; Jerome Ep. 107;
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One of the earlier notices occurs in Plutarch (Pompey 24.5; LCL trans.), who, while narrating Pompey's defeat of the Cilician pirates during a threemonth campaign in 67 BCE, observed that these same pirates had plundered many famous religious sites between Greece and the western coast of Asia Minor: They also offered strange sacrifices of their own at Olympus [located in southwest Asia Minor] and celebrated there certain secret rites, among which those of Mithras continue to the present time, having been first instituted by them.
Most of the literary evidence concerning Mithraism in .Christi an authors occurs in apologetic contexts (Colpe:29-43; Freudenberger:579-92; Metzger 1945:225-33; Rossi:17-29). lustin (1 Apology 66.4; see also Tertullian De praescriptione haereticorum 40), after describing the Christian Eucharist, observes: This also the wicked demons in imitation handed down as something to be done in the mysteries of Mithra; for bread and a cup of water are brought out in their secret rites of initiation, with certain invocations which you either know or can leam.
Perhaps the surprising feature is the fact that lustin claims to be aware of secret Mithraic practices and sees them as diabolical imitations of Christian practices. When he claims that "you either know or can learn [i] e7rLa70la(}e i] jJ..Ol(}eLv ovvOla(}e]" of the secret Mithraic rites, he is referring to those to whom he addressed his apology, the emperor Antoninus Pius, together with his sons Verissimus and Lucius (1 Apol. 1.1). Mithraism was one among many rivals of Christianity, though the fact that lustin refers to it just three times (1 Apol. 66.4; Dial. 70.1; 78.6) suggests that he does not regard it as posing a serious threat. Of course, when lustin composed this work (ca. 155 CE), Mithraism had not yet reached the peak of its popularity, though he wrote in Rome which was perhaps the most important center of the cult. The paucity of references in Christian authors to the real or potential threat of Mithraism suggests that the burden of proof is on those who would argue that Mithraism was in fact a dangerous riyal to Christianity . While it is an exaggeration to claim that Mithraism was one of the most dangerous rivals of Christianity (Nilson 2.669), the degree of rivalry certainly varied greatly from place to place. One of the settings within which Mithraism and Christianity met with relative frequency was that of the Roman army itself, for from 170 CE on, there is increasing evidence for the Adv. Jov. 1.7; 2.14; Comm. in Amos 5.9-10; Socrates Hist. ecel. 3.2-3; Sozomen Hist. ecel. 5.7.
AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM 43 presence of Christi an soldiers in the Roman legions (H~rnack:65.-~04; Hunter: 87-94). Commodian (perhaps a third cent. CE Afncan Chnstlan) allildes to Mithraism when he compares wayward Christi ans to deserters: "Do not wander long as a soldier through the caves of wild beasts" (lnstructiones 52). Most of the evidence for Mithraism is of an archaeological nature, including mithraea together with artistic representations and inscriptions. The earliest evidence for the famous Mithraic tauroctone (Mithras slaying the bull) , however, is found in a literary source, the Roman poet Statius (80 CE) who refers to "Mithra as beneath the rocks of the Persian cave he presses back the horns that resist his control" (Thebais 1.717ff.). According to Verrnaseren, no Mithraic monument can be dated earlier than the end of the first century CE. In his view, the earliest datable monument of Mithraism is astatue from Rome of Mithras slaying the bull (CIMRM 593),8 with an inscription (CIMRM 594) which mentions T. Claudius Livianus, who may be identical with the commander of the Praetorian guard of the same name under the emperor Trajan, 98-117 CE (Verrnaseren 1963:29-30). A Mithraic monument from Moesia Inferior, not far from the mouth of the Danube (from Novae/Steklen), can be dated to 100 CE (CIMRM 2268, 2269) and hence may be even older than CIMRM 593-594 (Gor don 1975:1.231; de Laet 1949:204; Beskow 1980:2-3).9 One of the earliest Mithraic monuments in the Danube is the altar of C. Sacidius Barbarus (CIMRM 1718) from Carnuntum in Pannonia, which dates to either the 70's-80's or 105-114 CE (Daniels:2.250-251). The Mithraic altar dedicated by L. Valerius Fuscus in Moesia Inferior must be placed between 71 and 162 CE (CIMRM 2286). By the late second century, however, there is an abundance of archeological evidence indicating that Mithraism had spread from one corner of the Roman empire to the other. While there is an enormous amount of archaeological evidence, including hundreds of very short inscriptions but only a few extensive inscriptions, particularly those from the Santa Prisca Mithraeum in Rome which date from the late second century CE (Verrnaseren and Van Essen:187-240; Betz:6280),10 and an extraordinarily rich iconography, there is a paucity of literary 8The abbreviation CIMRM refers to Vermaseren 1956-60. 9Per Beskow 1980:2-3; R. L. Gordon 1975:1.231. lOThe visible lines of this inscription are as follows: IFecunda tellus cuncta qua generat Pales. "Fertile earth, through wh ich Pales procreates everything." 4Fons coneluse petris qui geminos aluisti nectarefratres. "Rock-bound spring that fed the twin-brothers with nectar." 7Hunc quem aur[eijs humeris portavit more iuvencum. ., "This young bull which he carried on his wonderful shoulders accordmg to hIS w ill . "
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evidence. Apart from the disputed "Mithras Liturgy" identified by Albrecht Dieterich, and the problematic "Hymn to King Helios [=Mithras]," by Julian (Oration 4), there are no literary texts produced by adherents to Mithras which provide us with any information about the Mysteries of Mithras. One of the major problems of modem research into Mithraism is the way in which the literary evidence is used to interpret the archaeological evidence. Literary evidence has been used to suggest that Mithraism was introduced in Rome ca. 66 CE during the reign of Nero by Tiridates. l l Yet Tiridates appears to have been an adherent of a traditional form of Iranian religion, since nothing in the text is distinctive of the Mithraic mysteries.
Characteristics
0/ Mithraism
Ancient sources describe the cult of Mithras as "the mysteries of Mithras. "12 Those initiated into the cult were not designated by a particular name, though occasionally they are called "Persians ," since Mithraism was widely believed by both outsiders and insiders to have originated in Iran and to have been founded by Zoroaster. 9Atque perlata humeris t[ujli m[ajxima divum. "And to the end I have borne the orders of the gods on my shoulders. " lODulci[ija suntfi[cataj avium [sjed cura gubemat. "Sweet are the livers of the birds, but care reigns. " llpi[ej r[ejb[ujs renatum dulcibus atque creatum. "Hirn (or that) who (or which) is piously reborn and created by sweet things." 12Nubila per ritum ducatis tempora cuncti. "You must sustain c10uded times together through the rite." 13Primus et hic aries astrictius ordine currit. "Here too the ram runs in front, more strictly in line. " 14Et nos servasti etemali sanguinejuso. "And you saved us after having shed the eternal blood." 15[Oflfero ut . . a. ? numina magna Mithre. "I bring offerings in order that the great powers of Mithras are shown. " 16Accipe thuricremos pater accipe sancte Leones, 17 Per quos thuradamus per quos consumimur ipsi. "Receive, holy Father, receive the incense-burning lions, through whom we offer incense, through whom we ourselves are consumed. " 18Nama leonibus novis et multis annis "Hai! to the Lions for many and new years." llCassius Dio 63.10; Ps.-Callisthenes 2.14.5 (ed. Kroll); Pli ny Hist. nato 30.16.7; Suetonius Nero 13; see also Cumont 1933:145-54. 12Plutarch Pomp. 24.5 (O!i 1"OU MWpou 1"l;;A81"0!L); Eunapius Vitae soph. 476 (~ Md}pLO!K8 T8A81"8); Justin 1 Apol. 66.4 and Dial. 70.1 (1"a TOU MiBpO! J.LUCT1TIpLO!); Dial. 78.6 (Ta MWpO! J.LUCTT'1pLO!); Origen Contra Celsum 6.22 (~ 1"OU MWpou T8A81"8).
AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM 45 The cult of Mithras worshipped in artificial cavern-like structures called mithraea, usually located below ground level. 13 According to Porphyry (De antro nympharum 6; Bidez-Cumont, 2.29), the Mithraic cave was an "image of the cosmos" (elKwv TOU KoaJlov):14 Similarly, the Persians call the place a cave where they introduce an initiate to the mysteries, revealing to hirn the path by which souls descend and go back again. For Eubulus tells us that Zoroaster was the first to dedicate a natural cave in honour of Mithras, the creator and father of all; it was located in the mountains and had flowers and springs. This cave bore for hirn the image of the Cosmos which Mithras had created, and the things which the cave contained, by their proportionate arrangement, provided symbols of the elements and c1imates of the Cosmos.
Thus far the judgment of archaeology is that the earliest mithraea were constructed ca. 140-50 CE. Mithraea were relatively sm all , seating no more than about fifty people. They average about 15 meters in length (the longest is the Mithraeum at Marino which is nearly 30 meters long). Mithraea were frequently constructed on an east-west axis with the entrance on the west; probably Mithras was worshipp~d as the sun god. The archeological remains of fifty-eight Mithraic sanctuaries have been identified, of which twenty-five are located in Italy, including seven in Rome (Coarelli lists forty actual or possible sites for Roman mithraea), 1~ and fourteen or fifteen in Ostia (Laeuchli; White:48). Remains of mithTaea in the eastern Mediterranean are rare. In Roman Syria only three mithraea have been identified: Sidon (where artifacts suggest the presence of a mithraeum, though the actual mithraeum itself has not been located), Dura-Europos and Caesarea Maritima (Beck 1984:2013-2017; Hopfe:2214-2235).1 6 None have been discovered in Egypt, Anatolia (Beck 1984:2018-2020), or Greece, though a dedicatory inscription suggests the presence of one on Andros (Beck 1984:2047-2048). In some instances there is archaeological evidence for the decline and expansion of individual mithraea, such as in the case of the A ventine Mithraeum. The two stages of construction of the Santa Prisca Mithraeum indicate the growth and expansion of the membership (White:169-170). In virtually every Mithraeum there was an artistic representation (commonly a fresco or 13The earliest Dura mithraeum, used for the forty years between 168 and ca. 210 CE, is an important exception; the reconstructed mithraeum was built as a vaulted spelaeum. 14Justin (Dia I. 70.1) also mentions that Mithraic initiations took place in a cave, which he regards as an imitation of the place of the birth of Christ. See also Gervers:57999. On mithraea as imaging the cosmos, see Gordon 1976:119-65. 15Coarelli (76-77) suggests that there may have been 680 to 690 mithraea in Rome. 16The Sidon mithraeum may be dated 389/390 CE; the Dura-Europas mithraeum went through three phases of construction: (1) It was originally founded in 168 CE in a private horne, (2) it was rebuilt and enlarged, ca. 210 CE, (3) and it was again enlarged, ca. 240 CE. The Caesarea Maritima mithraeum may be dated late first to late third century CE.
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stone relief) of the tauroctony or "bull-slaying" scene. The fact that more than five hundred representations of this scene have been discovered makes the central significance which it had for the cult abundantly clear. In this scene, Mithras is depicted as using one knee for leverage on the back of a bull while pulling his snout back with his left hand and plunging a short sword into its heart with his right hand. The central focus of the cult was the preparation for astral salvation which would be realized upon death when the soul would ascend through the seven planetary spheres to the place of its origin. Origen has preserved one version of the Mithraic conception of the ascent of the soul which he attributes to Celsus (Contra Celsum 6.22; trans. Chadwick): These truths are obscurely represented by the teaching of the Persians and by the mystery of Mithras which is of Persian origin. For in the latter there is a symbol of the two orbits in heaven, the one being that of the fixed stars and the other that assigned to the planets, and of the soul's passage through these. The symbol is this. There is a ladder with seven gates and at its top an eighth gate. The first of the gates is of lead, the second of tin, the third of bronze, the fourth of iron, the fIfth of an alloy, the sixth of silver, and the seventh of gold. They associate the first with Kronos (Saturn), taking lead to refer to the slowness of the star; the second with Aphrodite (Venus), comparing her with the brightness and softness of tin; the third with Zeus (Jupiter), as the gate that has a bronze base and which is fIrm; the fourth with Hermes (Mercury), for both iron and Hermes are reliable for all works and make money and are hard-working; the fifth with Ares (Mars), the gate which as a result of the mixture is uneven and varied in quality; the sixth with the Moon as the silver gate and the seventh with the Sun as the golden gate, these metals resembling their colours.
Though doubts have been expressed concerning whether or not Origen is accurately reproducing Mithraic theology (the planetary order is not typical of Mithraism, but reverses the planetary order of the days of the week),17 it is widely held that the ascent of the soul through the planetary spheres was central to Mithraism (Merkelbach 1985:235-244), though this view has recently been criticized. Further , it is clear from the correlation of the grades with certain planets (in the Felicissimus Mithraeum and the Santa Prisca Mithraeum), that the seven grade initiation structure was in some sense a guide through the planets, a via salutis. One of the more recent issues which has emerged hinges on the question of whether this ascent of the souls occurs only after death (Cumont 1956a:143-144), or whether it was experienced by the initiate while still alive (Gordon 1980:38-39; Heck 1988:77-82). The heavenly ascent prescribed in the "Mithras Liturgy" (PGM IV.475-834) is experienced by a living adept. Robert Turcan has argued that the notion of postmortem ascent is Neoplatonic and Gnostic but not found in any of the 17The essential accuracy of Origen's account is argued by Beck 1988:73-85.
AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM 47 ancient mystery cults including Mithraism (Turcan 1982:173-91). Further, he regards Origen's account as garbled, and the real significance of the correlation of Mithraic grades with planets is seen not in terms of a spatial celestial joumey, but rather as a metaphor of a temporal journey through seven successive world ages (Turcan 1975:44-61). While conclusive evidence for either view is lacking in the sources, it appears likely that the ritual experience of ascent served as an anticipation of the final postmortem ascent of the soul (Merkelbach 1965:219-257, esp. 250). The most significant part of Mithraism was the ritual of initiation which was superintended by a pater (i.e., an initiant who had achieved the seventh and highest grade of initiation). Members of the cult were initiated into seven ascending levels or grades of initiation, each of which had the protection of a planetary god (Verrnaseren 1963:138-153): (1) corax, "raven" (Mercury), (2) nymphus, "bride" (Venus) or cryphius,18 (3) miles, "soidier" (Mars), (4) leo, "lion" (Jupiter), (5) Pe rs es , "Persian" (Moon) , (6) heliodromus, "courier of the sun" (Sun) , and (7) pater, "father" (Saturn).1 9 In inscriptions and graffiti, pater is mentioned most frequently (114 times in CIMRM), then leo (35 times), following by corax (8 times), miles (8 times), Perses (5 times), nymphus or cryphius (5 times), heliodromus (2 times). The planetary order used in Mithraism, however, does not represent any other known way of ordering the planets in ancient astronomy or astrology (Saturn, Sun, Moon, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, Mercury, i.e., moving from heaven to earth). Therefore the planetary order is probably part of the secret lore of the cult concealed from all but initiants. Further , these seven grades of initiation, preserved in literary setting only in Jerome (Ep. 107),20 are found in the graffiti of the Mithraeum of Felicissimus at Ostia (CIMRM 299), in the mosaic pavement of the Santa Prisca Mithraeum in Rome (CIMRM 480),21 and in graffiti (omitting only Heliodromus) at the Mithraeum at Dura (CIMRM 63), where the seven steps in the third mithraeum probably represent the seven grades. Yet it cannot be assumed that Mithraism everywhere in the ancient world used the same order, though the iconographical homogeneity of the cult throughout the Roman Empire is generally quite remarkable. 22 18 According to Vermaseren (1963: 139-140), following C. w. Vollgraff, the chryphii are "the hidden ones," i.e., youths not yet received as official members of the cult. 19A1l seven Mithraic grades were known only from Jerome Ep. 107 until 'confirmed by the discovery of the mosaic pavement of the Mithraeum of Felicissimus in Ostia (CIMRM 299) and the graffIti of the S. Prisca Mithraeum (CIMRM 480); see Beck 1988:1-4, and Vermaseren and van Essen 1965:155-58. 20The terms for the seven grades preserved by Jerome are corax, cryphius, mi/es, leo, Perses, heliodromus, pater. 21CIMRM 480 is corrected in Vermaseren and van Essen: 1965:155-158. 22Beskow (1978: 11-12) argues that the seven-grade system originated in Syria and moved from there to Rome.
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Mithraic initiation scenes have been preserved in both frescoes in the Santa Prisca (CIMRM 480-84), Capua (CIMRM 187-97) (Verrnaseren 1971 :24-48 and plates XXI-XXVIII), and Dura (CIMRM 42), and the reverse of the Konjic relief from Dalmatia (CIMRM 1896). The pater, enthroned and dressed in a costume reminiscent of Mithras, presided at initiation ceremonies (CIMRM 480; Verrnaseren and van Essen 1965:155). In these ceremonies, it is possible that the initiates wore masks representing the grade they had achieved (Cumont 1956a:152-154),23 though this is far from certain (Gordon 1980:69, n. 1).24 A text in Ambrosiaster (Quaest. 114) suggests the mimetic character of such ceremonies: Their [initiants'] eyes are blindfolded that they may not refuse to be fouUy abused; some moreover beat their wings together as birds do, and croak like ravens, and others roar Iike lions; and yet others are pushed across ditches ftlied with water: their hands have previously been tied with the intestines of a chicken, and then somebody comes up and cuts these intestines (he calls hirnself their "liberator").
Tertullian mentioned another aspect of Mithraic initiation (De corona 15.3): Blush, ye fe11ow-soldiers of his, henceforth not to be condemned even by hirn, but by some soldier of Mithras, who, at his initiation in the gloomy cavem, in the camp, it may well be said, of darkness, when at the sword's point a crown is presented to hirn, as though in mimicry of martyrdom, and thereupon put upon his head, is admonished to resist and cast it off, and if you like, transfer it to his shoulder, saying that Mithras is his crown.
The Origins 0/ Mithraism The problem of the origins of Mithraism is one of the more hotly debated issues among concerned scholars, and one which has several aspects. One major aspect of the problem of origins is concerned with the issue of whether or not Mithraism is a modified, westernized form of Iranian religion. This is a hermeneutical as weIl as an historical issue, for Cumont and many others have interpreted the largely mute Mithraic iconography in the light of Iranian and Indian texts. A second major aspect of the problem of origins is concerned with the center or centers where the myste.ries of Mithras took on distinctive Roman features and from which the cult was disseminated to other parts of the Roman world.
23CIMRM 1896 depicts human figures with the head of a raven and a lion; CIMRM 42 and 397 depict human figures with the heads of ravens. 24Gordon's skepticism is in part confirmed by the drinking cup from Trier (CIMRM 988), where Mithras and Sol dine in the presence of several animal figures: a lion, a raven, ci serpent, and a cock.
AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM 49 Franz Cumont thought that Mithraism originated in Persia during the second millennium BCE, ~d that it gradually moved west into Mesopotamia bythe fourteenth century (where it picked up Semitic elements), and by the first century CE it was found in Syria and Asia Minor where it was adopted by the Romans. Cumont also argued that Mithraism was essentially Zoroastrianism transplanted to the West with certain transformations. During the last twenty years, however, there has been a shift, and there is now a tendency to understand Mithraism in terms of the astronomical and astrological traditions of the Mediterranean world (Gordon 1975: 1.215-248). While for Cumont the tauroctony depicted an Iranian myth and represented the struggle between the forces of good and evil in a cosmic dualism, more recently there has been a growing recognition that this central icon of Mithraism was a star map (Beck 1977:1-17; Beck 1988; Insler:519-520; Speidei; Ulansey).25 While Cumont and many scholars influenced by hirn have emphasized the continuities with Zoroastrianism in Roman Mithraism (Cumont 1956b:135-149; Cumont 1956a:1-32),26 this view has come under increasing criticism in recent scholarship (Wikander; Gordon 1975:1.215248). R. L. Gordon has persuasively argued that Roman Mithraism should be investigated as a western religious phenomenon whose development and social structure should be understood in terms of its own inscriptions, iconography, and monuments, without regard for hypothetical Iranian roots (Gordon 1972:92-121). There are some obvious "Persian" features of Mithraism. The more obvious include the name of the god Mithras itself (very similar to the Iranian "Mitra" or "Mithra," but which the Greeks spelled Mithres), including his association with light and the sun and his Persian wardrobe, the use of the Persian words "narna" (meaning "hornage, reverence," used to invoke gods and preserved in Mithraic liturgicallanguage like "amen" or "hallelujah" in Christianity), "nabarzes" (CIMRM 501, 1790, 2029; cf. 380, 915; 2153 [all of which have the abbreviation ND; perhaps meaning either invictus, "unconquerable, victorious" (Cumont 1956a:142143; Colpe 1975:2.392),27 or "high or great male" (Schwartz:2.422-423), the names "Cautes" and "Cautopates, "28 and the designation of the fifth grade of initiation as "Perses, " or "Persian. " Further , a number of ancients refer to 25In many respects the most unsatisfactory of these studies is that of Ulansey; see the critique of his work by Swerdlow. 26The Iranian origins of Mithraism were forcefully argued by Widengren. 27Note the connection between nabarzes and the titles of Mithras in CIMRM 1790 (Pannonia): "Invicto Mythrae Nabarze," CIMRM 2029 (Dacia): "Nabarze Deo," CIMRM 2153 (Dacia): "S(oli) i(nvicto) N(abarze) M(ithrae)." 28The names "Cautes" and "Cautopates" appear to be Iranian, although there is no agreement regarding their derivation or meaning; for a survey of previous discussion and a new proposal, see Schwartz (2.406-423).
50
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
the Mysteries of Mithras as Persian. 29 The significance of these Persian features should not be exaggerated. Until the discoveries of the mithraea at Dura Europos (CIMRM 34-70) and Caesarea Maritima, there were no known mithraea in Syria-Palestine. The Mithraism reflected in the three phases of the Dura Mithraeum in western Mithraism does not, as one might expect, exhibit a syncretistic combination of both eastern and western features. The Mithraism of Dura was brought first by a numerus of Palmyrene archers, an auxiliary unit of the Roman army, 30 and second by Roman soldiers led by Antonius Valentinus, a centurio princeps, ca. 210 CE (CIMRM 53), not Parthians. 31 The cult founded by the Palmyrene auxiliaries, however, exhibits no Semitic elements and appears to have reflected the Palmyrene adoption of Roman Mithraism from the foundation of the cult. While evidence for Mithraism has been found only within the borders of the Roman Empire, the archaeological sites and artifacts are far from evenly distributed. In the Roman provinces of Gaul, the structural remains of just seven mithraea have been identified, together with more than eighty Mithraic inscriptions, sculptures, monuments and representations on pottery (Walters). In Spain, even less evidence for the presence of Mithraism has been discovered (Garcia y Bellido). The paucity of mithraea in the western Roman provinces suggests not only that Mithraism was not practiced in the west on a wide scale, but also that it was not carried from the east to the west in a developed form (Daniels:2.272). Anatolia has often been regarded as the place where Mithraism took on the distinctive features of a mystery cult under the influence of Persian magi from Mesopotamia (Cumont 1956a:11-12; Hopfe:2232-33). The kingdom of Commagene, lying between eastern Anatolia and western Mesopotamia, has been widely regarded as a likely center for the development of the mysteries of Mithras (Cumont 1956a:151-153). Antiochus I (first cent. BCE), the king of Commagene, founded a syncretistic cult in which he combined Greek with Iranian traditions; three deities named in inscriptions are Zeus-Oromasdes, Apollo-Mithra-Helios-Hermes, and Artagnes-Herakles-Ares. Yet nothing specifically connected to the mysteries of Mithras has yet been found in either
29Statius Thebais 1. 717ff.; Origen Contra Celsum 6.21; Firmicus Matemus De errore profanarum religion um 4. 30The evidence is provided by a Palmyrene inscription dated 168 CE (CIMRM 39) which names Ethpeni (a Palmyrene name) as Cf7pa7rry(x; of the archers in Dura. Another dedication on the base of arelief, this one written in Greek, names Zenobius or Eiaeibas (another Palmyrene name) as the Cf7parrryoC; of the archers, and can be dated to 171 CE (CIMRN 42). . 31Against the extremely speculative proposal by SpeideI.
AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM 51 archaeological excavations or inscriptions (Duchesne-Guillemin 1978: 187199). Per Beskow has emphasized the special features found in Mithraic inscriptions in Pannonia and Syria and the connections between those regions and Rome (Beskow 1978:9-12). From Pannonia and Syria, Beskow then traces a link to the two provinces of Inferior Moesia and Superior Moesia, on the eastern part of the Danube, where he believes that the earliest known Mithraic monument has been found, dating to ca. 100 CE (CIMRM 2269). From he re a more primitive form of the cult radiated west along the Danube and east through Palmyrene soldiers to Syria (Beskow 1978:12). More speculatively, Beskow then proposes that the Mysteries of Mithras were brought to N ovae by the soldiers of legio I Italica upon their return from the Bosporan king dom in the Crimea (Beskow 1978:12-18).
The Expansion o[ Mithraism While the rapid expansion of Mithraism throughout the Roman world during the second and third centuries CE is documented by archaeological remains, little is actually known of the way or ways in which the cult was propagated so successfully. There are a number of important issues which must be considered in this connection, including the region which appears to have been the major center for the dissemination of Mithraism, the areas in which it found most of its adherents, and the social types who were responsible for the propagation of the cult. Epigraphical evidence indicates that members of the cult were soldiers and high military officials in the Roman army, procurators and other state bureaucrats, merchants and slaves (women were systematically excluded). Cumont believed that Mithraism did not affect the Greek world, but was transmitted to the Latin world when Rome annexed a number of eastern kingdoms and the eventual placement of various legions along the frontier formed by the Euphrates river (Cumont 1956a:35-36). Scholars remain in general agreement that the principle means for the propagation of Mithraism was the Roman army (Cumont 1896-99:1.246263). Cumont emphasized the presence of easterners in the army, such as the extraordinary representation of men from Commagene, where Mithraism, he claimed, had deep roots (Cumont 1896-99:1.247). In the eastern Mediterranean, there were a number of urban areas with large concentrations of Roman soldiers. These included Caesarea Maritima, Antioch, and DuraEuropos . Mithraism was particularly popular with Roman soldiers from the second to the fourth centuries CE. Worshipers of Mithras were also found among Roman civilians, parti-
52
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
cularly customs officials, especially slaves of the portorium (the system of indirect taxation in the Roman empire). However, the connection between Mithraism and the portorium is almost exc1usively limited to a single customs district, the publicum portorium Illyrici, which covered nearly all the Three mithraea have been Danubian provinces (Beskow 1980:1-18). excavated in Poetovio in Pannonia, where the administrative center of the publicum portorium Illyrici was located. 32 Mithraea I, abandoned toward the end of the second century, and II, constructed toward the end of the second century (Beskow 1980:6), were used by customs officials (Mithraeum I: CIMRM 1490, 1491, 1493, 1497, 1501, 1503, 1507; Mithraeum II: 1529, 1533), while Mithraeum III was used by solders before the middie of the third century CE.
AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAISM 53
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ized fraternal cult of Roman soldiers and civil servants, located primarily on the frontiers of the Roman empire and in Rome itself, which was an ec1ectic combination of a variety of astrological lore, secret rites, ancient myths, and grades of initiation in a way uniquely suited to frontier life. The costs of the mithraea and the artwork used to decorate them were borne by those high military officials, state bureaucrats, and merchants who were sufficiently weaIthy to finance such projects. The inscriptions suggest that those who expended such wealth functioned as patrons and pateres who exerted authority over Mithraic groups of member-c1ients. Given this time-honored Roman social system, the expansion of local Mithraic cults must have occurred through the personal contacts of the patrons and c1ients with those among their friends and acquaintances who might be interested in the religious and fraternal benefits of becoming associated with such collegia tenuiorum.
Conclusions Works Consulted
In light of the above discussion, we can reach at least four conc1usions: 1. Roman Mithraism cannot be regarded as a western transformation of an eastern mystery cult, but on the basis of the present state of the evidence must be considered an indigenous western religious phenomenon which retained only relatively superficial ties to Persia and Zoroastrianism. 2. The similarities between Roman Mithraism and early Christianity, as weIl as the cont1ict and competition which supposedly existed between the two religious systems, have been exaggerated by Franz Cumont and by many subsequent students of Mithraism. The paucity of references to Mithraism by early Christian writers suggests that they did not consider the cult to be a major riyal to Christianity, a fact which suggests that Mithraism was never a great popular religion in the Roman world. 3. The exc1usion of women from the Mithraic cult means that th~ household played no role whatsoever in the social character of Mithraism: Even though both Christianity and Mithraism are conceptualized in modern terms as "religions," the central role of households and house churches in early Christianity suggests that these two cults functioned in very different ways for their respective adherents. 4. It is still true that, despite the extensive (but mute) archaeological evidence, little is known of the way(s) in which the cult was propagated so successfully, though speculation is possible. Mithraism was a highIy special-
32Mithraeum I (CIMRM 1487-1508), Mithraeum II (CIMRM 1509-1577), and Mithraeum III (CIMRM 1578-1612), with indications of a possible Mithraeum IV (CIMRM 1613-1618).
Beck, Roger 1977 "Cautes and Cautopates: Some Astronomical Considerations." JMS 2: 117. 1984 "Mithraism since Franz Cumont." pp. 2002-15 in ANRWII, 17.4. 1988 Planetary Gods and Planetary Orders in the Mysteries 0/ Mithras. EPRO 109. Leiden: Brill. Beskow, Per 1978 "The Routes of Early Mithraism." pp. 7-18 in Etudes Mithriaques: Actes du Deuxieme Congres International. Ed. Jacques Duchesne-Guillemin. Acta Iranica 17. Tehran and Liege: Bibliotheque Pahlavi. 1980 "The Portorium and the Mysteries ofMithras." JMS3:1-18.
I
Betz, H. D. 1968
"The Mithras Inscriptions of Santa Prisca and the New Testament." NovT 10:62-80.
Bidez, Joseph and Franz Cumont 1938 Les mages hellenises: Zoroastre, Ostanes et Hystaspe d'apres la tradition grecque. 2 Vols. Paris: Societe d'editions "Les Belles lettres." Brandon, S. G. F. 1954-55 "Mithraism and Its Challenge to Christianity." Hibbert journal 53: 107-14. Chadwick, Henry (ed. and trans.) 1953 Origen: Contra Celsum: Translated with an Introduction and Notes. Cambridge: Cambridge University. Coarelli, F. 1979
"Topografia mitriaca di Roma (con una carta)." pp. 69-79 in Mysteria Mithrae: Proceedings 01 the International Seminar on the Religio-
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AUNE: THE CASE OF MITHRAlSM 55
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Historical Character 0/ Roman Mithraism with Particular Reference to Roman and Ostian Sources. Ed. Ugo Bianchi. Leiden: Brill.
Colpe, Carsten 1975 "Mithra-Verehrung, Mithras-Kult und die Existenz iranischer Mysterien." pp. 378-405 in Mithraic Studies, Vo12. Ed. John R. Hinnells. Manchester: Manchester University. Cumont, Franz 1896-99 Textes et monumentsfigures relati/s aux mysteres de Mithra. 2 Vois. Brussels: H. Lamertin. 1956a The Mysteries 0/ Mi th ra. Second edition. New York: Dover. 1956b Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism. New York: Dover. Daniels, C. M. "The Role of the Roman Anny in the Spread of Mithraism." pp. 249-74 1975 in Mithraic Studies, Vo12. Ed. John Hinnells. Manchester: Manchester University. Dieterich, Albrecht 1910 Eine Mithrasliturgie. Second edition. Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teubner. Garcia Y Bellido, A. 1967 Les religions orientales dans l'Espagne romaine. Leiden: Bril!.
"The Iconography of the Cave in Christian and Mithraic Tradition." 579-99 in Mysteria Mithrae. Ed. U go Bianchi. Leiden: Bril!.
2214-35 in ANRWII, 18.4.
Laeuchli, Samue1 (ed.) 1967 Mithraism in Ostia. Evanston: Garrett Biblical Institute. Merkelbach, Reinhold 1965 "Die Kosmogonie der Mithrasmysterien." Eranos Jahrbuch 34:219-57. 1985 Mithras. Konigstein: Anton Hain. Nilsson, Martin P. 1961 Geschichte der griechischen Religion, Vol 2: Die hellenistische und römische Zeit. Second edition. München: Beck.
pp.
Harnack, Adolf 1981 Militia Christi: The Christian Religion and the Military in the First Three Centuries. Philadelphia: Fortress.
pp.
de Laet, S. J. 1949 Portorium: etude sur l'organisation doullaniere chez les Romains. Brugge: Rijksuniv. te Gent.
Preisendanz, Karl 1973-74 Papyri Graecae Magicae: Die griechischen Zauberpapyri. Second edition. Stuttgart: Teubner.
Gordon, R. L. 1972 "Mithraism and Roman Society. Social Factors in the Explanation of Religion Change in the Roman Empire." Religion 2: 92-121. "Cumont and the Doctrines of Mithraism." pp. 215-48 in Mithraic 1975 Studies, Voll. Ed. John R. Hinnells. Manchester: Manchester U niversity . "The Sacred Geography of a Mithraeum: The Example of Sette Sfere." 1976 JMS 1:119-65. 1980 "Reality, Evocation and Boundary in the Mysteries of Mithras." JMS 3:19-99.
Hopfe, Lewis M. 1990 "Mithraism in Syria."
Ins1er, Stanley "A New Interpretation of the Bull-Slaying Motif." pp. 519-38 in Hom1978 mages a Maarten J. Vermaseren, Voll. Leiden: Brill.
Nock, Arthur Darby "The Genius of Mithraism." JRS 27: 108-13. 1937
Geden, A. S. 1990 Mithraic Sources in English. Hastings: Chthonios Books. Gervers, M. 1979
Hunter, David G. "A Decade of Research on Early Christians and Military Service." RSR 1992 18:87-94.
Schwartz, Martin "Cautes and Cautopates, the Mithraic Torchbearers." pp. 406-23 in 1975 Mithraic Studies, Vo12. Ed. John R. Hinnells. Manchester: Manchester U niversity . Simon, Marcel "Mithra, Rival du Christ?" 1978 Iranica 17. Leiden: Brill.
pp.
457-78 in Etudes Mithriaques. Acta
Smith, Jonathan Z. 1987 "Dying and Rising Gods." pp. 521-27 in The Encyclopedia 0/ Religion, Vo14. New York:. Macmillan; London: Collier Macmillan. Speide1, Michael "Parthia and the Mithraism of the Roman Army." pp. 479-83 in Etudes 1978 mithriaques: Actes du Deuxieme Congres International. Ed. Jacques Duchesne-Guillemin. Acta Iranica 17. Tehran and Liege: Bibliotheque Pahlavi.
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Turcan, Robert 1975 Mithras Platonicus. Leiden: Brill. 1982 "Salut mithriaque et soteriologie neoplatonicienne." pp. 173-91 in La soteriologia dei culti orientali nell' Impero Romano. Ed. U. Bianchi aIid M. J. Vennaseren. Leiden: Brill.
CHAPTER3 PROSELITES, CONQUEST, AND MISSION
Ulansey, David 1987 "Mithraic Studies: A Paradigm Shift?" RSR 13:104-10.
Peder Borgen The University 0/ Trondheim
Vennaseren, Maarten 1956-60 Corpus Inscriptionum et monumentorum religionis mithriacae. 2 vols. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff. Mithras, the Secret God. London: Chatto & Windus. 1963 Mithraica I: The Mithraeum at S. Maria Capua Vetere. EPRO 16. 1971 Leiden: Brill. Vennaseren Maarten J. and C. C. Van Essen 1965 'Excavations in the Mithraeum ofthe Church Brill. Walters, V. J. 1974
0/ Santa Prisca.
Introduction
Leiden:
. The Cult 0/ Mithras in the Roman Provinces o/Gaul. EPRO 41. Leiden: Brill.
White, L. Michael 1990 Building God's House in the Roman World. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins. Widengren, Geo . . 1965 "The Mithraic Mysteries in the Graeco-Roman World Wlth SpeCIal Regard to Their Iranian Background." pp. 433-55 in La Persia e il mondo grecoroman. Rome: Accademia nazionale dei Lincei. Wikander, Stig 1951 Etudes sur les mysteres de Mithra. Lund: Almqvist & Wiksel.
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The terms mlsszon and proselytism are used in a variety of ways. Some would list them together under the concept of religio~s propaganda to be seen as part of the dynamic and competitive thrusts of the many religions and philosophies in the pluralistic Greco-Roman world (Fiorenza; cf. Schwartz). To others "mission" is a broad and inclusive term which comprises the various ways of actively recruiting and integrating new members in a group, thus also Jewish proselytism (Moore, Kuhn and Stegemann, Jeremias, Georgi, etc.). Again according to others, the two terms are to be seen as contrary to each other: proselytism, from the Greek term 7rpOai(AV'TOC;, "one who has arrived, who is come to a place," is seen as based on the particularism of one nation, while mission, "sending (out)" is seen within a universalistic view which has overcome particularism (Bousset:85 esp; Fischer). This sharp distinction between particularism and universalism does not do justice to the historical data, however (cf. Müller; Hengel:657-58). Particularism and universalism are 'not mutually exclusive concepts when applied to J ewish and Christian history and self-understanding. Here the particular Jewish nation is seen as having a universal role to play. Against this background, both proselytism and mission have their setting in the dynamic interplay between the Jewish nation, Israel, and the other nations. Also from this starting point proselytism and mission may be seen as contrasting notions. Proselytism is understood to represent a centripetal movement, that is, gentiles and gentile nations come to Israel and to the Jerusalem Temple as the center. Mission, on the other hand, is a centrifugal movement, by which the Gospel is brought from the center, Israel, to all nations, even to the ends of the world (Aalen:282-306; Sundkler:462-64; Munck:265). McKnight (48) draws the distinction between proselytism and mission in a more general way:
r 58
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BORGEN: PROSELYTES, CONQUEST, AND MISSION
. .. although there is c1early an almost universally positive attitude toward proselytes and proselytism, a positive attitude toward, and an acceptance of, proselytes is to be methodically distinguished from aggressive missionary activity among the gentiles. In other words, although Jews c1early admitted proselytes, and although they c1early encouraged gentiles to convert, and although they anticipated that Day when hordes of gentiles would convert, there is almost no evidence that Jews were involved in evangelizing gentiles and aggressively drawing gentiles into their religion.
The data which McKnight hirnself presents caIl for a more differentiated conclusion to be drawn, as indicated by his own formulation: " ... there is almost no evidence that Jews were involved in evangelizing Gentiles .... " In his final conclusions he modi fies his own general view in a similar way (117): "Although there is some evidence for conversion through literature and missionaries , the predominant me ans of conversion appear to have been the life of individual Jewish citizens" (my italics). Moreover, in his survey of the methods of proselytizing, McKnight includes conversions caused through force (68). One must then raise the question why he did not classify this method as the Jews "aggressively drawing gentiles into their religion" (48)? Thus a more precise conclusion seems to be: among the Jews there were different ideas, attitudes, and activities at work in receiving or bringing non-Jews into the Jewish religion. As for the Christi an mission some scholars stress its distinctive and perhaps unique basis and legitimation to such an extent that its relationship to Jewish proselytism and to Judaism in general is pushed into the background; indeed, it is almost ignored. To a large extent this is done by Munck and Hahn. Munck wrote (265): "Nicht das Judentum bereitet die christliche Mission vor und gibt für diese gleichzeitig eine Erklärung. Sie ist etwas ganz Neues, die zwar im Alten Testament ihre Voraussetzungen hat, aber die sie nicht vom Spätjudentum aus erklären lässt." Hahn surveys Jewish: proselytism in passing and largely ignores it, because he keeps closely to this definition: "Mission is the Church's service, made possible by the coming of Christ and the dawning of the eschatological event of salvation, and founded in J esus' commission." In this study some of the various views and activities of the Jews will be examined. The sources demonstrate that some gentiles became proselytes because of attraction. In other cases Jews actively presented their religion in gentile circles and even at times used military force to bring people into the Jewish religion. These various approaches were applied both to individuals as weIl as to coIlective groups; they were at work both in past and present history, and they were also part of the future eschatological scenarios. Although the Christi an mission did have some distinctive features, its matrix. was the J ewish notions of proselytism, eschatology, and conquest.
59
The substantiation of this thesis will especially be sought by analyzing sections of Philo's writings and material from the New Testament. Also other sources will be drawn into the discussion, although to a lesser degree.
Background: The Impact on Other Peoples
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To give background and perspective for an investigation of proselytism, conquest, and mission it will help to indicate in wh at ways the Jewish people and their teligious convictions and practices made an impact or were thought to make an impact on non-Jewish surroundings. It is of particular interest to sketch some of the J ewish ideas on this matter. Also some other data will be included, however. The first task is to point to the fact that the Laws of Moses were understood both to be the particular laws of the J ewish nation and the universallaws which in principle were to be the laws of all nations. On this basis the J ewish nation understood itself to have a universal role to play. One might call this understanding particularistic universalism (Borgen 1992). This point is illuminated by the first sections of Book 2 of the treatises On the Life 0/ Moses, in which Philo presents his understanding of Moses and his views on the Laws of Moses. He characterizes Moses's role as king, legislator, high priest, and prophet (Mos. 2:1-11) and surveys in this way the content of the treatises On the Life 0/ Moses. Then in Mos. 2: 12-65 he gives praise to Moses as lawgiver. Surprisingly, he does not here tell about the giving of the Laws on Mt Sinai but praises Moses on the basis of their qualities as made evident in their history after they were received. Philo develops here a perspective of national and universal revelatory history . In contrast to the laws of other nations, the Laws of the Jewish nation were "firm, unshaken, immovable, stamped, as it were, with the seals of nature herself' and they "remain secure from the day when they were first enacted to now, and we may hope they will remain for all future ages as though immortal, so long as the sun and moon and the whole heaven and universe exist" (Mos. 2:14). On this basis Philo interprets the history of the Jewish people: "Thus, though the nation has undergone so many changes, both to increased prosperity and the reverse, nothing - not even the smallest part of the ordinances - has been disturbed" (Mos. 2: 15),1 Moreover, the Laws of IPhilo expresses here a common view held by Jews in the Diaspora as weil as in Palestine. Even his fonnulation seems to be based on widespread phraseology, as can be seen from similar statements like the one in Mt 5:18: " ... till heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the law until all is accomplished." See also Josephus, Apion 2:277, Matt 5:19, and Luke 16:17 .
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BORGEN: PROSELITES, CONQUEST, AND MISSION
Moses " ... attract and win the attention of all, of barbarians, of Greeks, of dwellers on the mainland and islands, of nations of the east and the west, of Europe and Asia, of the whole inhabited world from end to end" (Mos. 2:20). Philo interprets this revelatory history within the Greek distinction that divides the world's population into two parts, the Greeks and the barbarians. 2 Within this context two events have basic significance: (1) the giving of the Laws at Mount Sinai in the Hebrew language for the barbarian half of the human race, and (2) the translation of these Laws into Greek on the island of Pharos at Alexandria to make them known to the Greek half of the world. This second event took place in the Ptolemaic period in Egypt, under Ptolemy Philadelphus, the third in succession to Alexander , the conqueror of Egypt (Mos. 2:25-40). In Mos. 2:25-40 Philo renders a summary of the traditional account of the origin of the Greek translation. His version is in basic agreement with the story of the translation given in the Letter 0/ Aristeas. There are also important differences, however. 3 Thus, Philo is hardly in a direct way dependent on the Letter 0/ Aristeas, but both of these versions may draw from Alexandrian traditions about the translation (Swete: 12; cf. Meecham: 12324). For Philo, the Septuagint translation has a theological and ideological importance. When it was translated under king Ptolemy II Philadelphus more than two centuries before the time of Philo - it was the event in history at which the Laws of Moses revealed their beauty to the Greek half of the world (Mos. 2:26-27). This universal aim is also expressed in Philo's description of the work of the translators on the island of Pharos:
t "
21mmut. 136; Mos. 2:18.20; Jos. 134; Praem. 165; Gaium 141; Quod Omn. 73.94.98.138; Prov 2:15. This distinction is also applied to the c1assification of languages: Greek is the language of the Greek half of the world, while Hebrew serves as the main language of the barbarian world, Mos. 2:27ff.; cf. Conf 68. Cf. also Paul's use of the distinction Greek and barbarians in Rom 1: 14. 3For details, see Meecharn (121-24): parts of the Letter 0/ Aristeas are not found in Philo' S· version, and parts of Philo' s story are not in the Letter 0/ Aristeas.
base his presentation of the Laws of Moses on the event in bistory which brought them from the Hebrew/barbarian half to the Greek half of the world. According to Phi1o, the circumstance that Ptolemy II Philadelphus (28446 BeE), a king of highest distinction, initiated the translation of the Laws of Moses into Greek, showed that the Laws were precious in the eyes of rulers (Mos. 2:25-43). Correspondingly, Philo also praises Augustus and the Roman official Petronius for their personal qualities and their favorable attitude to the Jews. Augustus recognized the rights of the Jews to worship and live in accordance with their ancestral laws and customs (Gaium 153-58). He also adorned the Jerusalem Temple and ordered that, at his own expense, continuous sacrifices should be carried out every day as a tribute to the most high God (Gaium 157). As for hirnself, he never wished anyone to address hirn as God (Gaium 154). In his characterization of the Roman legate to Syria, Petronius, Pbilo brings hirn elose to Judaism: Indeed it appears that he hirnself had some rudiments of Jewish philosophy and religion acquired either in early lessons in the past through his zeal for culture or after his appointment as governor in the countries where the Jews are very numerous in every city, Asia and Syria, or else because his soul was so disposed, being drawn 10 things worthy of serious effort by a nature which listened to no voice nor dictation nor teaching by its own. But we find that to good men God whispers good decisions by which they will give and receive benefits, and this was true in his case (Gaium 245).
Philo reports on the impact made by the J ewish people on others in tbis way:
... taking the sacred books, stretched them out towards heaven with the hands that held them, asking of God that they might not fail in their purpose. And He assented to their prayers, to the end that the greater part, or even the whole, of the human race might be profited and led to a better.life by continuing to observe such wise and truly admirable ordinances (Mos. 2:36).
For Philo, the reason for the translation was not the lack of knowledge of Hebrew among Alexandrian Jews, but the need for the Laws of the Jewish nation, which at the same time were the One God's cosmic and universal Laws, to be made known to all nations. For theological reasons Philo had to
61
I
But, in course of time, the daily, unbroken regularity of practice exercised by those who observed them brought them to the knowledge of others, and their farne began to spread on every side. For things excellent, even if they are bec10uded for a short time through envy, shine out again under the benign operation of nature when their time comes (Mos. 2:27).
Ii
In
I JL. . ·~ ·~'
~,,:
~
In a more general way Philo states that the celebration of the Sabbath made a strong impact on both Greek and barbarian peoples: They [the Laws of Moses] attract and win the attention of all , of barbarians, of Greeks, of dwellers on the mainland and islands, of nations of the east and the west, of Europe and Asia, of the whole inhabited world from end to end. Far, who has not shewn his high respect for that sacred seventh day, by giving rest and relaxation from labour to hirnself and his neighbours, freemen and slaves alike, and beyond these to his beasts? (Mos. 2:20-21).
Josephus, in Apion 2:282-83, describes in a similar way the broad influence of Judaism on the gentile world: Among the observances kept by
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
non-Jews, Josephus lists the abstaining from work on the seventh day, the fasts, the lighting of lamps, and many of the prohibitions in the matter of food. Both Philo and J osephus exaggerate the impact of the Sabbath and other observances on other peoples, but there are data which indicate that there was some basis for these statements. Tcherikover points to the fact that personal names such as "Sambathion, " and so forth were used also by nonJ ews from the first century CE and onwards in Egypt and in other areas of the Mediterranean world. Tcherikover and others (Tcherikover, Fuks, and Stern: 1 :94-96; 3:XIII; Goldenberg:414-47; Cohen:20-21) draw the conclusion that such" names attest the adoption of sabbath observance by numerous non-Jews. Correspondingly Seneca wrote: "... 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" (Stern: #186). In Gaium 210-11 Philo teIls how the attitudes of non-Jews create corresponding responses among the J ews: For all men guard their own customs, but this is especially true of the Jewish nation. Holding that the laws are orades vouchsafed by God and having been trained in this doctrine from their earliest years, they carry the likeness of the commandments enshrined in their souls. Then as they contemplate their forms thus dearly represented they always think of them with awe. And those of other races who pay homage to them they welcome no less than their own countrymen, while those who either break them down or mock at them they hate as their bitterest foes.
The phrase "those of other races who pay homage to them" applies in particular to proselytes, of course, but it mayaiso include others who express positive attitudes towards the Jews and their religion. One such example is the annual Septuagint festival on the island of Pharos, an event in which non-Jews also participated: Therefore, even to the present day, there is held every year a feast and general assembly in the island of Pharos, whither not only Jews but multitudes of others cross the water, both to do honour to the place in wh ich the light of that version first shone out, and also to thank God for the good gift so old yet ever young. But after the prayers and thanksgivings, some fixing tents on the seaside and others redining on the sandy beach in the open air feast with their relations and friends, counting that shore for the time a more magnificent lodging than the fine mansions in the royal precincts. Thus the laws are shewn to be desirable in the eyes of alI, ordinary citizens and rulers alike ... (Mos. 2:41-43).
AIthough the appearance of Christianity created a new situation, it is relevant in this connection to point to the fact that the synagogal communities for a long time attracted many gentile Christi ans . This situation was at times feIt to be such a threat to leading circles in the Church that sharp polemic and conflict arose.
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Early in the second century Ignatius of Antioch admonishes the Churches of Magnesia and Philadelphia not to yield to Judaizing influence. Inscriptions found in the area around Acmonia and Eumoneia dated to the third and fourth centuries CE, displaya blending of Jewish and Christi an features. After the cessation of imperial cuIt activities in the Sebasteion in Aphrodisia the premises seemed to have been used as shops. Here both menorahs and crosses have been incised on some of the doorjambs. The intense attack by J ohn Chrysostom of Antioch in his 8 homilies preached in 386-87 CE against the Jews and against Christi ans who frequented the synagogue illustrates how vehement polemic presupposes a strong influence from the synagogal community. Chrysostom levels an attack against Christians who go to the synagogue on the sabbath, receive circumcision, celebrate the Jewish Pesach, and keep the Jewish dietary laws and other observances, such as fasting. Moreover, in canon 29 of the Council of Laodicea held in the second half of the fourth century the following formulation occurs: "It is forbidden that Christi ans live like Jews and rest on sabbath; they should work on that day. They should prefer the Lord's day to rest on, if possible, since they are Christians. If they turn out to be judaizers, let them be accursed by Christ" (Sheppard; Horst).
Proselytes "Coming In" A comprehensive body of material in Philo of Alexandria's writings deals with proselytes who become Jews. In most of these passages the focus is on individual persons. According to Philo the conversion of gentiles to Judaism consists of three aspects: .cl) The religious conversion: The central theme is the change from worshipping many gods to the worship of the One True God. On the whole the conversion passages do not specify the various gods, but refer to them in a general way. In Virt. 102-4 Philo teIls how proselytes have abandoned the images of their gods and the tributes and honors paid to them. Therefore they have turned away from idle fables to the clear vision of truth and the worship of the one and truly existing God within the context of the Jewish Law. 4 (2) The ethical conversion: Another theme is the change from a pagan way of life to the Jewish virtuous life, which has the worship of the One God as its source. For example, On the Virtues 181-82 reads:
4S ee also Joseph and Asenath 13:11-12.
r ,
64
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT For it is exeellent and profitable to desert without baekward glanee to the ranks of virtue and abandon viee that malignant mistress; and where honor is rendered to the God who is, the whole company of the other virtues must follow in its train as surely as in the sunshine the shadow follows the body. The prose1yte becomes at onee temperate, eontinent, modest, gentle kind humane serious just highminded, truth-Iovers, superior to the desire f~r mon~y and ple~sure .. .' . '
(3) The social conversion: In On the Virtues 102-4 Philo says that proselytes have left thelr family, their country, and their customs. Abraham is the prototype of the proselyte who leaves his horne in this way (Virt. 214). The proselytes thus have made their kinsfolk into mortal enemies (Spec. 4: 178). According to Philo, proselytes have entered the Jewish nation, 7fOALr8La, a term whieh means "rights of a citizen, body of citizens, government, constitution of astate, commonwealth." The proselytes have entered a "newand godly commonwealth," 7fOALreLa, Spec. 1 :51; in Virt. 180 Philo explicitly states that proselytes enter "the government of the best law," that is, the Laws of Moses. Thus they join "a commonwealth, 7fOALreLa, full of true life and vitality" (Virt. 219). Although these passages on proselytes deal primarily with individuals, it is pertinent to ask if this concept also can be applied to collectives, such as ethnie groups and nations. In the same section where Philo teIls about the announcement of the Laws of Moses to the Greek half of the world and reports on the Septuagint festival celebrated annually on Pharos, he also expresses the hope that all nations will accept these Laws: 1?.us the Laws are shown to be desirable and preeious in the eyes of all, ordinary ~ltlzens and ruler~ alike, and that too though our nation has not prospered for a long time . . .. But lf a fresh start should be made to brighter prospeets, how great a eh~nge for. the better might we expeet to see! I believe that they would abandon thelr peeuhar ways, and throwing overboard their aneestral eustoms turn to honouring these (i.e. our) laws alone. For, when the brightness of 'their shining is aeeompanied by national prosperity, it will darken the light of the others as the risen sun darkens the stars (Mos. 2:43-44).
When Philo looks forward to a new period of prosperous times for the J ews, he may refer to his philosophy of history , according to which kingdoms come and go and their fortunes change so that one kingdom succeeds the other (Immut. 174).5 Or he may look forward to prosperity of the Jewish nation in the eschatological time. The creation story points to the corresponding eschatological possibility: The first father of the race lived without toil or trouble in lavish abundance. These glorious times will return SCf. Philo's deseription of the glorious fortunes of the Roman empire at the time when Gruus Caligula began his reign as emperor (Gaium 8-13).
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- in spite of the punishment of Adam and Eve for their disobedience - if the religious and ethical conditions are met (Op. 79 ff.; Borgen 1994). It is to be noticed that prosperity in its broadest sense is also seen as one aspect of the eschatologie al blessing in Praem. 98 ff. and 168 as weIl as in other Jewish writings, such as Sib. III:741-59. Mos. 2:43-44 shows that Philo looked forward to the time when all nations will become Jewish proselytes. He uses here several phrases which also are used in passages about proselytes: KaraAL7f01'rae; ... ra t'OLa (Mos. 2:44), with a parallel about the proselyte in Spec. 1 :309: K. ra 7farpLa. Another phrase with almost the same meaning is used in Mos. 2:44: 7foAAa XaLP8L1' 4>paua1'rae; rOLe; 7farpLOLe;. An additional example is found in Mos. 2:44: Jl8raßaA8L1' 87ft riJ1' rovrw1' JlO1'W1' TLJlT,1', with a parallel about the proselyte in Virt. 177: Jl. 7fpOe; Cx1'V7faLTL01' SWT,1'. As for the phrase &.1' olp.m . . . EKauroVe; Jl8raßaA8L1', it refers to the optative form of a sentence with the predieate changed into the infinitive. The optative with &1' denotes a future action that is qualified by, or dependent on, some circumstances or condition, whether expressed or implied (Reik: 107). Here the condition for the future action in the form of collective conversion is the impact made by the Laws of Moses together with the glorious and prosperous times of the Jewish people. The universal acceptance of the Laws of Moses is also the future hope expressed in Sib. III:702-30. When the peoples see how weIl God guards and cares for His Elect, then they will say: "Corne, let us all fall on the ground and entreat the immortal king, the great eternal God. Let us send to the Temple, since he alone is sovereign and let us all ponder the Law of the Most High God ... " (Sib. III:716-19; Charlesworth:1.378, cf. 741-59; cf. Volz: 172, 390; Baron: 199-209). Such parallel ideas support the understanding that Philo in Mos. 2:43-44 envisions the time when all nations will become J ewish proselytes by abandoning their own laws and accepting the Laws of Moses.
The "Reaching Out": Mission to and Conquest
0/ the Nations
There are sources which suggest that Jews actively reached out by peaceful means or by military me ans in order to recruit proselytes. In Virt. 211-19 Philo pietures Abraham as a proselyte who peacefully approached his pagan surroundings by being a model that called for respect as weIl as by his persuasive prophetie speech. Abraham turned away from the polytheistie creed of the Chaldeans and left his native country, his race, and paternal horne. He was regarded as king by those in whose midst he settled, a sovereignty gained
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not with weapons, nor with mighty armies but by the election of God. He was transformed by the divine spirit: "whenever he was possessed, everything in hirn changed to something better, eyes, complexion, stature, carriage, movements, voice. For the divine spirit which was breathed upon hirn from on high made its Iod ging in his soul, and invested his body with singular beauty, his voice with persuasiveness, and his hearers with understanding" (Virt. 217). Thus, in this picture of Abraham, there is an element of a conquest of others not by military means, but by inspired teaching and by being a model presented to the gentiles for them to imitate when becoming proselytes. Moreovet, the conversion is conceived of as a transformation by means of the divine spirit. Under inspiration he sought another society than that of the gentile surroundings (Borgen 1994:227-28). According to Virt. 177 Moses also actively reached out to the gentiles. He invites polytheists and offers them instruction, exhorting them to turn away from the many gods to God, the Creator and Father of all. Correspondingly, Philo encourages those whose actions serve the common weal to use "freedom of speech and walk in daylight through the midst of the agora, ready to converse with crowded gatherings . . . and . . . feast on the fresh sweet draught of words wbich are wont to gladden the minds of such as are not wholly averse to learning . . .. [W]e [the Jews] should follow her [nature's] intentions and display in public (7rpon()ivcxL) all that is profitable and necessary for the benefit of those who are worthy to use it" (Spec. 1 :321, 323; McKnight:55).6 The evidence from Rome is of special interest. Cn. Cornelius Scipio Hispanus (ca. 139 BCE) "banished the Jews from Rome, because they attempted to transmit their sacred rites to the Romans" (Stern:#147a; cf #147 b). Moreover, in 19 BCE J ews were expelled from Rome by the emperor Tiberius, and at least one of the reasons was related to proselytes (Josephus, Ant. 18:81-84; Tacitus Annales 2:85:4; Dio Cassius Historia Romana 57:18:5a). McKnight (73-74) tries to minimize the importance of these data, but admits that here Jewish missionary activity had been at work. In J ewish history and traditions there is also another form of reacbing out to the gentile world, that of military conquest. Here the emphasis is placed on the collective aspect, that of the people of Israel conquering the nations. According to Philo God even gave into Moses's hands the whole world as his portion (Mos. 1:149, 155-57). In the battle with the Phoenicians, God showed that the earth and the lowest regions of the universe were the portions assigned to the Pho enici ans , and the ethereal, the holiest region, to the Jews. Just as heaven holds kingship in the universe and is 6Cf.·Josephus, Ant. 9:208-14.
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superior to the earth, so the Hebrew nation should be victorious over its opponents in war (Mos. 1:217; Borgen 1992:344). The conquest of pagan peoples refers both to conquests in the history of the Jewish people and in the future (eschatological) hope. As for past history it is of interest to notice that J osephus records cases where military conquest and proselytism were combined. He reports that Hyrcanus subdued all the Idumeans and permitted them to stay in their country "if they would circumcise their genitals, and make use of the laws of the Jews" (Ant. 15:257-58). Aristobulus "made war against Iturea, and added a great part of it to Judea, and compelled the inhabitants, if they would continue in that country, to be circumcised, and live according to the Jewish laws" (Ant. 13:318). Although the Book of Esther is a novel in historical form, it is of interest to see that here the conquest of pagans by the Jews took place in a diaspora setting, in Persia. The Persian king issued an edict for "the Jews who were in every city to gather and defend their lives, to destroy, to slay, and to annihilate any armed forces of any people or province that might attack them . . ." (Esther 8:11); " ... the Jews were to be ready on that day to avenge themselves upon their enemies" (8:13); " ... and many from the peoples of the country declared themsel ves J ews, for the fear of the J ews had fallen upon them" (8: 17). In the Septuagint, Esther 8: 17, it is further specified how the gentiles became Jews: "and many of the Gentiles were circumcised and became Jews, for the fear of the Jews." Also Josephus, Ant. 11:285, mentions circumcision. Since the Book of Esther is the text related to the feast of Purim, the Jews thus every year learned the ideology of militaryactions which brought gentiles to become proselytes by fear. Thus, the Septuagint festival, according to Philo, made non-Je ws to become almost proselytes and to express thanks for the Laws of Moses, while the feast of Purim, as confirmed by Josephus (Ant. 11:292-95), advocated military measures against pagans, to the effect that some would become proselytes out of fear. As for the future and eschatological hopes there were traditions which envisioned a universal conquest of all nations by the J ewish nation. This view is already formulated in the Septuagint version of Num 24:7: "There shall come a man out of his seed, and he shall rule over many nations . . . . [H]e shall consume the nations of bis enemies . . . ." The use of the Septuagint version of this text in various writings proves that it represented a living tradition (Vermes: 169ff.; Hengel). Thus in Mos. 1 :290 Philo draws on Num 24:7(LXX) and pictures a Hebrew emperor who will bring to its full realization the universal charge of Moses and the Hebrew nation: "There shall come forth from you one day a man, and he shall rule over many nations and his kingdom spreading every day shall be exalted on high." In Praem. 93-97 Philo also refers to Num
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24:7(LXX) and states that the conquest is conditioned on the lews keeping the Laws of Moses. At that time: the first boon you will have is victory over your enemies. Either, then, as he says, the war will not pass through the land of the godly at all, but will dissolve and fall into pieces of itself when the enemy perceives the nature of their opponents, that they have in justice an irresistible ally . . .. Or if some fanatics . . . come care~r ing to attack . . . , they are unable to win. Because, forced back by your supenor strength, they will fly headlong . . .. Some ... will turn their backs and present admirable targets to their enemies . . .. For "there shall come forth a man," says the orade, and leading his host to war he will subdue great and populous nations ... (Praem. 79, 93-95).
The passages do not specify how far the nations are to obey the Laws of Moses. In Praem. 97 it is said in a general manner that the conquered subjects will feel affection or fear or respect: "For the conduct of their rulers show three high qualities which contribute to make a government secure from subversion, namely dignity, strictness, benevolence, which produce the feelings mentioned above. " At several other pi aces in various J ewish writings the future hope is stated that the Jewish nation and its ruler are to conquer the nations and rule them (Dan 7:14; Jub. 26:23; 39:4; Sib. III:49; V:414-416; Enoch 62:6.9; T. Sim. 7:2; T. Levi 2:11; 4:3-4; 1-8:1-9; T. Jud. 24.6; T. Zeb. 9:8; T. Benj. 10:5; Pss. Sol. 17:29-30; 4 Ezra 6:26). The idea is also present that the Laws of Moses, the Laws of the Jewish nation, which are also the universal Laws, will be universally put into effect (see Mos. 2:36.44; Wisd. 18:4; Sib. III:716-19). Thus, in some of the future eschatological expectations, the Jews entertained the view that they were going to conquer the nations, and if the hope was not to destroy the nations, they believed that they were to be the head nation who would rule over all in a world-wide imperium. As shown above, in Jewish history there were cases where non-Jews, due to Jewish military conquest, became proselytes by being forced to undergo circumcision and to obey the Laws of Moses. McKnight mentioned these and similar texts in summary fashion, but listed them under the heading of "God's Intervention" (50-51) or conversions through force (68). It is a serious weakness with his study that he has not discussed these texts more fully, since they actually represent a religiously-founded ideology and an extreme form of "aggressive missionary activity" (McKnight's terminology).
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Christian Proselytism and Conquest of the Nations Christi an mission in the New Testament is rooted in Jewish ideas and methods of proselytism, but they are recast on the basis of the motif of eschatology and conquest. As background for missionary ideas and practices, Philo's ideas ab out proselytes offer a strikingly adequate background with the threefold understanding of conversion. Thus, also in Christi an mission, conversion consisted of these three aspects: (1) The religious conversion which meant a change from many gods to the one God. Two passages from Paul will illustrate the theme "from many gods to one God": (a) "Formerly, when you did not know God, you were in bondage to beings that by nature are no god; but you have come to know God ... " (Gal 4:8-9); (b) " ... how you turned to God from idols, to serve a living and true God ... " (l Thess 1 :9-10). A corresponding formulation in Philo is found in Virt. 102-104: "the proselytes ... abandoning ... the temples and images of their gods . . . to the worship of the one and truly existing God." The eschatological setting is explicitly stated by Paul. In Gal 1 :3-4 Paul talks of liberation from the present evil age. As a statement in the prescript of the letter it makes c1ear that the whole letter is to be understood from this point of view. Another central idea in Galatians is that the promise to Abraham is put in effect in Jesus Christ: all nations shall now receive the blessing. The eschatological and Christi an adaptation of such Jewish proselyte-tradition is also evident in 1 Thess 1:9-10, by the fact that reference to the resurrection and the parousia of J esus and the wrath to come are added: " ... how you turned to God from idols, to serve a living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come" (Bussman:52-53). The christological identification of this deliverer from the wrath to come is a unique feature in Paul's rendering of this conversion-tradition. The christological aspect is specified as being Jesus, whom God raised from the dead. (2) The ethical conversion from pagan immorality to Jewish/Christian morality. The transition from pagan immorality to a moral way of life is pictured in Christian sources in a way similar to ideas found in Philo: The lists of vices in 1 Cor 6:9-10 and Gal 5:19-21 have points in common with Philo's descriptions of pagan life. For example, without using the form of catalogue, Philo, in On the Contemplative Life, describes the life of the Gentiles as Paul does: as a life of idolatry, immorality, and excessive banqueting. In 1 Cor 6: 11 and Gal 5:22-3 the new life of converts is seen in contrast
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to the gentile life of vices. In Gal 5:22-33 Paul even renders a list of virtues similar to the list given by Philo in Virt. 182. Paul writes: "But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-contro!." Also elsewhere in Christian literature the new li fe is characterized in a similar way, such as in Justin, Dialogue 110:3: " ... we cultivate piety, justice, brotherly charity, faith and hope .... " Both in 1 Cor 6:10-11 and in Gal5:19-23 the eschatological perspective i~ explicitly stated. Immoral life will lead to the exelusion from the kingdom ofGod. (3) The social conversion from other peoples to one people (=Jewish proselytism) and to one community among many peoples (= Christian mission). Material from the Pauline corpus will be used as main sources. Christian sources draw on J ewish traditions in their characterization of how the Christian "proselytes" form a cross-national community, a people among many peoples. The best example is found in Eph 2: 11-22. In accordance with the proselyte pattern of contrast, the present is described against the pagan background, when they were uncircumcised gentiles, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel, 1] 7rOALTEia TOU 'Iopaf]A. In the present they are not strangers nor foreigners, but fellow-citizens, avp..7rOALTaL, and members of the household of God. In Eph 2: 12 the term 7rOALTEia was used, the very term which also is central in the J ewish people/nation in Philo' s passages on proselytes. The conelusion of this analysis in Eph 2:11-22 seems then at first to be that Christi an mission and Jewish proselytism are identical entItIes. The passage seems to tell how the gentile converts were brought into the commonwealth of Israel, that is, to be members and citizens of the Jewish nation, within the limits set by the political circumstances. In spite of this use of legal and technical terminology from the realm of state and ethnic communities, the passage in Eph 2:11-22 breaks away from this context. According to Eph 2: 11-22 the Christi an proselytes are not to make an ethnic and judicial break away from their families , country, and nation. Thus the gentile converts are not to become citizens of the J ewish nation of the Torah. The law of commandments is abolished. In this way the J ewish idea of the people of God has been reshaped to mean the church of Christ into which both gentiles and J ews are to enter. The atonement in Christ has made this new inelusive community possible. While Jewish proselytism brought gentile converts into the Jewish nation, Christian mission brought them into a cross-national community of Jews and gentiles, "built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ hirns elf being the chief cornerstone in whom the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord" (Eph 2:20-21). Nevertheless, the agreements between these Christian sources on the one
BORGEN: PROSELYTES, CONQUEST, AND MISSION
71
hand and Philo's description on the other hand are elose. Christi an missionary preaching and teaching here elearlY use J ewish traditions about the conversion of proselytes. At several points, then, Christi an mission and Jewish proselytism have the same content and have the same view on the change from polytheism to the true God and from a gentile lifestyle to a Jewish/Christian ethicallifestyle. In Paul' s Letter to the Galatians there is a conflict between Paul' s eschatological and cross-national recasting of Jewish proselytism and his opponents who wanted to bring the Christi an gentile converts into the Jewish nation as normally was the case with proselytes. When Paul characterized their activity, he used a widespread formula-like phrase: ava-YKaSELv TLva 7rEpLTep..veaOaL.
Gal6:12: "they campel you to be circumcised" obroL ava-YKcXrOVCTLV VJ1.&e; 7repLrBJ1.VeaOm
I
Josephus, Vita. 113: "When the Jews would have compelled them to be circumcised if they wanted to be with them, I did not allow any compulsion to be put upon them . . . ." rovrove; 7repLriJ1.veaOm rwv 'Iovoa/'wv ava-YKarOvrwv, ei OeAovaLv elvm 7rap' auro'ie; .... Gal2:3: ". . . not even Titus who was with me and who was a Greek was campelled ta be circumcised. " ouos ... ~va-YKcXaOTJ 7repLrJ1.TJO~Vm .... Ant. 13:318: ". . . he . . . compelled the inhabitants . . . to be circumcised, and to live according to the Jewish laws." ava-YKcXaae; re roue; evoLKouvrae; ... 7repLriJ1.veaOm Kai Kara roue; 'Iovoaiwv VOJ1.0Ve; Nv.
Ptolemy (Stern:#146): "The Idumaeans ... having been subjugated by the Jews and having been compelled to undergo circumcision . . . ." ava-YKaaOivree; 7repLriJ1.veaOm
Although these paralleis occur in different contexts, all demonstrate that it was widespread to regard circumcision as a basic identity marker for a Jew and that, when needed, gentiles were forcefully circumcised. It is of interest to notice that J osephus was hirnself put under severe pressure by the people when two gentiles from the region of Trachonitis had fled to the J ews for refuge. The Jewish crowd wanted to compel the two gentiles to be circumcised as a condition of residence among them. J osephus finally had to help the two persons tlee so that they could escape forcible circumcision (Vita.
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112-13; 149-54). This incident illustrates the kind of pressure and persecution that Paul's opponents feared might happen to them. This fear motivated them to compel the Galatian Christi ans to be circumcised (Gal 6: 12). Paul refuses to make circumcision a condition for the Galatian converts to remain in the people of God. According to hirn there is a christological basis for the transition. Instead of binding the change to physical circumcision, Paul ties it to the death of Christ Jesus: "And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passion and desires" (Gal 5:24). In 1 Cor 6: 11 the transition is marked by baptism and by being justified in the name of Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God. For Jewish proselytes the new life, characterized by lists of virtues, is a life in accordance with the Laws of Moses. It is to be lived in the new context of the Jewish nation, as it was organized at various places in the Roman empire, for example in the form of a 7roAL7eVIlCi.. According to the Christi an mission, as understood by Paul, the gentile converts are not under the Law of Mos-es (Gal 5:18). They are not members of the Jewish 7roAL7eVIlCi.. But their new life outside of the J ewish nation is in accordance with the Laws of Moses, as noted by Paul in connection with the list of virtues in Gal 5:22-23: " ... against such things there is no Law" (GaI5:23b). In this eschatological and Christi an recasting a peaceful form of Jewish proselytism has been transformed to serve the motif of conquest of the nations. As shown above, this notion of conquest existed in Jewish tradition both with reference to history and to eschatology. (Within the limitation of this essay only some scattered pieces of material can be listed in survey fashion. The cited passages nevertheless suffice to substantiate the points made). Some of the points of agreement between Christi an mission and Jewish conquest are as follows: 1. The active and conscious reaching out to the nations. Several passages within the Pauline corpus as weIl as elsewhere in the New Testament testify to tbis point. As an example one might mention Paul' s call as apostle to the gentiles: " ... [he] was pleased to reveal his Son in me, in order that I might preach hirn among the nations . . ." (Gali: 16). Another outstanding example is Mt 28:19: "Go ... make disciples of all nations .... " A militaristic reaching out to the nations is pictured in Num 24:7-8(LXX): " ... he shall rule over many nations ... he shall consume the nations . . . ." With variations the Septuagint version of this passage is also found in the Targums (Vermes:159ff.), in Philo Mos. 1:290-91 and Praem. 95-97, and in Josephus Ant. 4:7, cf.l0:208-10. In Mos. 1:290-91 the following phrases may be quoted: "... he shall rule over many nations, and his kingdom spreading every day ... it [the people] shall eat up many nations .... " Praem. 95 reads: " ... leading his host to war he will subdue great and populous
BORGEN: PROSELITES, CONQUEST, AND MISSION
73
nations .... " 2. The basis for this mission to the nations is a Jewish sovereign who has a universal claim on the nations. As examples from the New Testament Rom 1:3-5 and Mt 28:18-19 might be cited. Rom 1:4-5: " ... his Son, who was a descendant from David . . . who was appointed Son of God in power ... by his resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, through whom we have received grace and apostleship ... among the nations . . . ." Mt 28:18-19: "All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me. Go therefore ... of all nations" (Windisch 1909:61). This conquest scene about the cosmic authority of Jesus corresponds to the instalIment of Moses as universal king in Mos. I: 155-57. And this God-given charge to Moses will be brought to its fulfillment by "the Man" who shall rule over many nations (Num 24:7[LXX]), as rendered by Philo in Mos. 1 :290-91 and Praem. 9597. 3. The Christi an conquest takes place by using ideas and methods from the peaceful form of Jewish proselytism. Thus it is a conquest by peaceful means. Some features from Jewish military conquest traditions are still traceable, however (Windisch: 1909; Leivestad): According to 1 Cor 15: 24f., at the future eschaton the final victory over all authorities will be won (Leivestad: 133-34): "Then comes the end when he [Christ] delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet." Although no combat is pictured in Phil 2:10-11 (Leivestad: 113-14), the passage should be mentioned here, since the scene is the 7rpOaKUVrwu; of Jesus Christ as Lord, that is, as the cosmic and universal ruler: "... that in the name of J esus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, the glory of God the father." Within military thought categories the crucifixion is interpreted as a triumph over the principalities and powers (Collins; Leivestad:100-04): "He [God] disarmed the principalities and powers and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in hirn" (CoI2:15). The most elaborate use of ideas from militant messianism is found in the Book of Revelation (Leivestad:246-48). The Roman emperor represents antichrist and together with the pagan nations he attacks the saints. Christ is depicted as a victorious conqueror. Also he re the decisive victory is paradoxically understood as won by J esus in his sacrificial death on the cross. On that basis he was exalted as King of kings and Lord of lords to rule the nations with an iron rod. Accordingly, Paul and the other missionaries were soldiers (Phil 2:25; Philemon 2) who fought an ideological war (Leivestad:146-47): "For though
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we live in the world we are not carrying on a worldly war, for the weapons of our warfare are not worldly but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every proud obstac1e to the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-5). Commenting on this passage H. Windisch (1924:296) wrote: " ... die Vorstellung von dem in kriegerischem Kampf die Welt erobernden jüdischen Messias ist auf das sonst so friedsame Werk der Ap. übertragen." Although the apostles and missionaries experience sufferings and persecutions, their work can be seen as victory and triumph (Leivestad:140-45; 147-48): "But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumph ... " (1 Cor 2: 14). R. Leivestad (148) renders the meaning of this verse as: "What makes Paul praise God is that God leads us everywhere, so that the knowledge of Christ is spread all over the world, a knowledge which certainly implies death to those who are perishing, but abundant life to those who are saved. " In the New Testament the Jewish motif of conquest is central, not as a conquest by military me ans , but by peaceful methods of persuasion and in this way making proselytes of all nations. Nevertheless, in the New Testament, the inauguration of the eshatological era by the appearance of Jesus as the Messiah meant that now the Jewish (cosmic and universal) thoughts of the conquest of all nations was to take place. Thus it has been substantiated that, although it is correct that Christian mission has some distinctive features, its matrix was the Jewish notions of proselytism, eschatology, and conquest. Instead of conquering the nations by military means, Christian mission meant that the Jewish notion and method of proselytism were recast on the basis of the Jewish motif of conquest. Thus, the belief in Jesus as the Christ meant that disciples were to be actively recruited from all nations. In this way Christianity moved into the Roman world as a teaching and worshipping movement in competition with religions and philosophical schools. Gradually, even the political life of the Roman Empire was penetrated to such an extent that Christianity became a major political factor from the Emperor Constantine and onwards.
Works Consulted Aalen, Sverre 1951 Die Begriffe 'Licht' und 'Finsternis' im Alten Testament, im Späjudentum und im Rabbinismus. Oslo: Jacob Dybwad. Baron, Salo W. 1953 A Sodal and Religious History ofthe lews, Voll. Second Edition. New York: Columbia University.
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Borgen, Peder 1992 "'There Shall Come Forth a Man.' Reflections on Messianie Ideas in Philo." pp. 341-361 in The Messiah. Ed. James H. Charlesworth. Minneapolis: Fortress. 1994 "Jesus Christ, the Reception of the Spirit and a Cross-national Community." pp. 220-35 in lesus of Nazareth: Lord and Christ. Ed. Joel B. Green, Max Turner. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. "Man's Sovereignty Over Animals and Nature according to Philo of 1995 Alexandria." pp. 369-89 in FS Lars Hartman: Texts and Contexts: Biblical Texts in their Textual Situational Contexts. Ed. David Hellhom, Tord Fomberg. OsIo: Scandanavian University. Bousset, Wilhelm 1926 Die Religion des ludentums im späthellenistischen Zeitalter. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck). Bussmann, Claus 1971 Themen der paulinischen Missionspredigt auf dem Hintergrund der spätjüdischhellenistischen Missionsliteratur. Bern: Herberto Lang. Charlesworth, Iames H. (ed.) 1983 The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha Vol l: Apocalyptic Literature and Testaments. Garden City, NI: Doubleday. Cohen, Shaye I. D. "Crossing the Boundary and Becoming a Jew." HTR 82:13-33. 1989 Collins, Adela Y. 1976 The Combat Myth in the Book of ~evelation. Missoula, MT: Scholars. Fiorenza, Elisabeth Schüssler 1976 "Mirac1es, Mission and Apologetics: An Introduction." pp. 1-25 in Aspects ofReligious Propaganda in ludaism and Early Christianity. Ed. E. Schüssler Fiorenza. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame. Georgi, Dieter 1964 Die Gegner des Paulus im 2. Korinthbrief Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag (also available: The Opponents of Paul in Second Corinthians. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986). Goldenberg, Robert 1979 '''The Jewish Sabbath in the Roman World up to the time of Constantine the Great." pp. 414-47 in ANRWII, 19.1. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Hengel, Martin 1989 "Messianische Hoffung und politischer 'Radikalismus' in der 'jüdischhellenistischen Diaspora. ,,, pp. 655-86 in Apocalyptidsm in the Ancient Near East and the Hellenistic World. Second edition. Ed. David Hellholm. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck).
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
van der Horst, Pieter W. "Jews and Christians in Aphrodisias in the Light of their Relations in Other 1989 Cities of Asia Minor." Netherlands Theologisch Tijdschrift 43: 106-21. Jeremias, Joachim 1958 Jesus' Promise to the Nations. SBT 24. London: SCM. Kuhn, K. G. and H. Stegemann 1962 "Proselyten." pp. 1248-83 in Pauly's Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, Supplementband IX. Ed. G. Wissowa, et. al. Stuggart: Alfred Druckenmüller.
77
Sundkler, Bengt 1936 "Jesus et les paiens." RHPhR 16:462-99 (also available pp. 1-38 in Arbeiten und Mitteilungen aus dem neutestamentlichen Seminar zu Uppsala. Vol. 6. Uppsala: Das neutestamentliche Seminar zu Uppsala, 1937). Swete, Henry B. 1902 An Introduction to the Old Testament in Greek. Cambridge: Cambridge University. Tcherikover, V. A., A. Fuks, and M. Stern 1957-64 Corpus Papyrorum Judaicarum. 3 Vois. Cambridge, MA: Harvard U niversity .
Leivestad, R. 1954
Christ the Conquerer. London: SPCK.
Vermes, G. 1961
Mcknight, Scot 1991 A Light among the Gentiles: Jewish Missionary Activity in the Second Temple Period. Minneapolis: Fortress. Meecham, Henry G. 1932 The Oldest Version ofthe Bible: 'Aristeas' on its Traditional Origin. London: Holborn Publishing House. Moore, George F. 1927-30 Judaism in the First Centuries ofthe Christian Era: The Age ofthe Tannaim. 3 Vols. Cambridge: Harvard University. Müller, Ulrich B. 1980 "Rez. Ulrich Fischer, Eschatologie und Jenseitserwartung in hellenistischen Diasporajudentum ... 1978." ThZ 26:238-40. Munck, Johannes 1954 Paulus und die Heilsgeschichte. Aarhus/Copenhagen: Aarhus University Press/Ejnar Munksgaard. Reick, Karl 1907
Schwartz, J. 1967
Der Optativ bei Polybius und Philo von Alexandria. Leipzig: Gustav Fock. "Die Rolle Alexandrias bei der Verbreitung orientalischen Gedankunguts." Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 1 : 197 -217.
Sheppard, A. R. R. 1979 "Jews, Christians and Heretics in Acmonia and Eumeneia." Anatolian Studies 29: 169-80. Stern, Menahem 1976-84 Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism. 3 Vois. Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities.
Volz, Paul 1934
Scripture and Tradition in Judaism. Leiden: Brill. Die Eschatologie der jüdischen Gemeinde im neutestamentlichen Zeitalter. Second edition. Tübingen: 1. C. B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck).
Windisch, Hans 1909 Der messianische Krieg und das Urchristentum. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Pau1 Siebeck) . 1924 Der zweite Korinthbrief Ninth edition. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.
CHAPrER4 PAUL AND lliE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION Alan F. Segal Bamard College Columbia University
Introduction In this paper I want to trace the relationship between various Jewish definitions of conversion and the Christi an ones. Social scientists tell us that each community defines uniquely what it means by conversion. We do not know everything we need to know about the origins of the rabbinie version of conversion. But we can tell a great deal about the Dead Sea Scroll community. In different ways, both communities outlined aperiod of learning, followed by a change of identity based on oath and ritual. The Christian definitions of conversion, however, are quite different. How did they come ab out? To find out we will have to ask basic questions of the entire relationship between Judaism and Christianity in the first century. So I must briefly address the issue of Jewish mysticism, which is in some ways the environment out of which the Christi an versions of conversion grow.
Jewish Mysticism
I
That Jewish mysticism has a history is due to Gershorn Scholem. When all the modern Jews were saying that Judaism was a religion of reason, more reasonable than Christianity they thought, hence more able to deal with the modern world, Scholem pointed out that they were forgetting - trying desperately to forget - a lively tradition of J ewish mysticism. That his tory included Merkabah, kabbalah, and Hasidism. I wish to focus on Merkabah. But it is clear to me that what we call Jewish mysticism grew out of aseparate phenomenon, apocalypticism, the tail-end of the prophetie movement, which claimed the world is going to end abruptly. All Jewish mysticism, indeed even the doctrine of resurrection itself, depends on a very peculiar passage in Daniel 12, the only apocalyptic work
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accepted into the Hebrew Bible: 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 anation til 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, so me to everlasting life, and some to shame and ever-Iasting 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 (DanieI12:13).
We often gloss over the rather peculiar aspects of the prophecy in Daniel. In it, it says that two kinds of people will be resurrected - the very good, and the very bad (not the usual understanding). More interesting to me is the idea that those who are wise will shine as the stars in heaven; this is literally where The Zohar, the principal book of Jewish mysticism, gets its name. Essentially this document tells us that those who make themselves wise will become stars, that the good people on earth will become stars. Angels in heaven and stars are equated. The history of Jewish mysticism is deeply concerned with the experience of becoming a star. But that is precisely what Paul tells us. We must wait to see how. This vision serves as the basis for the doctrine of resurrection in Judaism. In the Jewish prayer for the dead, "eI malay rahamirn," it is directly quoted: "grant perfect peace under the wings of the Shekhina, among the holy and pure beings on high who shine as the brightness 0/ the heavens." This shows the enormous effect these verses have had on ordinary J ewish piety. But this is only the prologue. For Merkabah mysticism was not quiet contemplation. Instead it was the active des ire to journey to heaven and see what was there. Not only could you go to heaven at the end of your life, some people actually went while alive. In fact, the importance of going during your life, you might say, was to prove that you were going after death. It was a kind of eschatological verificationism (pace Hick). I want to underline two aspects of this mystical experience and show how it is fundamental to Paul's experience. The first aspect of the Jewish mystical experience is the vision of a principal angelic mediator who like the angel of the Lord in Exodus carries the name of God or participates in God' s divinity somehow. All the passages describing the Glory of the Lord, especially Ezekiel 1:26 . . :. . the human figure on the throne in Ezekiel's vision are pulled into this angelic figure, making a consistent figure of a principal angelic mediator . This mediator figure can be called a variety of different names - Yahoel, Melchizedek, and even the son of man, and as I have tried to show in Paul the Convert, it was this figure that Paul saw and with whom
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he identified the crucified Christ. So for Paul, the figure was the traditional one except, as he says in 2 Corinthians, it has the face of Jesus. The second aspect of this tradition which is important to the study of Paul is transformation. In the J ewish mystical tradition, adepts or heroes or patriarchs can be transformed or subsumed into the mediator figure. This is more or less the equivalent of becoming an angel or becoming astar, which is the exact point of Daniel 12. The most obvious example of this phenomenon, though by no means the only one, is Enoch, who is transformed into the Son of Man in 1 Enoch 71. I would submit that what is narrated there is the very experience of being made a star, which is narrated in Daniel 12. From a historical point of view, the problem with this tradition is that chapter 71 of Enoch cannot be proven to be pre-Christian. Most scholars believe it to be pre-Christian, but that is not the same thing as proof. Since Enoch cannot be proven pre-Christian, Paul' s testimony becomes the most important. Furthermore, Paul gives us first-person, confessional experience ab out wh at these experiences are. He tells us ab out the man who went to heaven, and he tells us what it is like to be in Christ.
Paul's Use 0/ Mystical Vocabulary Paul hirnself gives the best evidence for the existence of ecstatic journeys to heaven in first-century Judaism, with his report in 2 Corinthians. 1 We begin with heavenly ascent. Although the account of Paul's ecstatic conversion in Acts is a product of Luke's literary genius, Paul gives his own evidence for ecstatic experience. In Galatians 1, Paul claims that he did not receive the gospel from a human source. And in 2 Corinthians 12:1-9, he describes an experience that transcends human ken: 2 I must boast; there is nothing to be gained by it, but I will go on to visions and revelations of the Lord. I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught
up to the third heaven - whether in the body or out of the body, I do not know, God knows. And I know that this man was caught up into Paradise - whether in the body or out of the body, I do not know, God knows - and he heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter. On behalf of this man, I will boast, but lCallan shows how Paul wished to limit the term ecstasy. Prophecy for Paul is not ecstatic, in that it need not be accompanied by trance. Therefore, our use of it, though proper, also remains an etic term. 2S ee Tabor, where he illustrates his contention that this mystical experience is meant to be taken very seriously as a part of Paul's religious life. Although Paul means to criticize those who make claims on the basis of their spiritual gifts, this is not merely a strange corner cf Paul's universe, and it is certainly not a parody of an ascent, in the tradition of Lucian' s Death 0/ Peregrinus.
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses. Though i~ I wish .to boast, I shall not be a fool, for I shall be speaking the truth. But I refram from lt, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me. And to keep me from being too elated by the abundance of revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to harass me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I besought the Lord about this, that it should leave me; but he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. "
Most all scholars understand that Paul is speaking about his own experience but that he is reticent to name hirnself because he does not want to elaim authority on the basis of spiritual gifts. But that is not the same thing as· denying that he had them. It is also significant that in 2 Corinthians 12, when Paul talks about mystical journeys directly he too adopts a pseudepigraphieal stance. He does not admit to the ascent personally. Apart from the needs of his rhetoric, rabbinic rules also forbid public discussion of mystie phenomena. A first century date for this rule would explain why Paul would not divulge his experience in his own name at that place. It would also suggest why Jewish mystics consistently picked pseudepigraphical literary conventions to discuss their religious experience, unlocking the mystery behind the entire phenomenon of pseudepigraphical writing. But none of the standard discussions of this incompletely understood phenomenon discuss Paul's confession or the Mishnah here. 3 Again, Paul may be giving us hitherto unrecognized information about Jewish culture in the first century whieh is unavailable from anywhere else. When Paul is not faced with a direct deelaration of personal mystical experience, he reveals much about the mystical religion as it was experienced in the first century. Paul himself designates Christ as the image of the Lord in a few places: 2 Cor 4:4, Col 1:15 (if it is Pauline), and he mentions the jJ.oP4>it of God in Phil 2:6. 4 More often he talks of transforming believers into the image of His son in various ways (Rom 8:29; 2 Cor 3:18; Phil 3:21; and 1 Cor 15:49. See also Col 3:9). These passages are critical to understanding what Paul' s experience of conversion was. They must be seen in eloser detail to understand the relationship to J ewish apocalypticism and mystieism, from which they derive their most complete significance for Paul. Paul' s longest discussion of these themes occurs in an unlikely place in 2 Cor 3:18 - 4:6. Here he assurnes the conte~t rather than explaining it completely. Thus, Paul's term, "the glory of the Lord," must be taken both as a reference to Christ and as a technical term for the Kavod ("J:J), the human
3The most recent good analysis of pseudepigraphal writing is found in Meade. Mystical notions are not even mentioned. 4in this section, I am particularly indebted to Gilles Quispel.
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form of God appearing in biblical visions. In 2 Cor 3: 18 Paul says that Christi ans behold the Glory of the Lord (7TJV oo~cx" KVpLOV) as in a mirror, and are transformed into his image (7TJV CXV7TJV eiKovcx).5 For Paul, as for the earliest Jewish mysties, to be privileged enough to see the Kavod or Glory (06~cx) of God is a prologue to transformation into His image (eiKwv). Paul does not say that all Christi ans have made the journey literally but compares the experience of knowing Christ to being allowed into the intimate presence of the Lord. But we know that he has made that journey. The result of the journey is to identify Christ as the Glory of God. When Paul says that he preaches that Jesus is Lord and that God "has let this light shine out of darkness into our hearts to give the light of knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ" (4:6), he seems elearly to be describing his own conversion and ministry, just as he described it in Galatians 1, and just as he is explaining the experience to new converts for the purpose of furthering conversion. His apostolate, which he expresses as a prophetie calling, is to proelaim that the face of Christ is the glory of God. It is very difficult not to read this passage in terms of Paul' s later description of the ascension of the man to the third heaven and conelude that Paul's conversion experience also involved his identification of Jesus as the "image" and "glory of God," as the human figure in heaven, and thereafter as Christ, son, and savior. Or at least this is how Paul construes it when he recalls it. Ecstatic ascensions like the one described in 2 Corinthians 12, and spiritual metamorphoses like 2 Corinthians 3 are strangely unfamiliar to modern Jewish and Christi an religious sentiments. Neither Christianity nor rabbinic Judaism transmitted these lively mystical Jewish traditions of the 5The use of the mirror here is also a magico-mystical theme, which can be traced to the word Eyyin (l'Y) occurring in Ezekiel 1. Although it is sometimes translated otherwise, eyyin probably refers to a mirror even there, and possibly refers to some unexplained technique for achieving ecstasy. The mystic bowls of the magic:iI papyri and Talmudic times were fi1led with water and oil to reflect light and stimulate trance. The magical papyri describe spells which use a small bowl that serves as the medium for the appearance of a god for divination: e.g., PGM IV, 154-285 (Betz:40-43), PDM 14.192, 295-308, 395-427, 528-53, 627-635, 805-840, 841-850, 851-855 (Betz:195-200, 213, 218-9, 225-226, 229, 236-239). The participant concentrates on the reflection in the water's surface, often with oil added to the mixture, sometimes with the light of a lamp nearby. Lamps and charms are also used to produce divinations, presumably because they can stimulate trance under the proper conditions. The Reuyoth Yeheikel, for instance, mention that Ezekiel' s mystical vision was stimulated by looking into the waters of the River Chebar. It seems to me that Philo appropriates the mystic imagery of the mirror to discuss the al1egorical exposition of scripture. See The Contemplative Life 78; and Dieter Georgi:272-73; and cf. Schu1z:1-30. Paul's opponents then look into the mirror and see only the text. But because Pau1 and those truly in Christ actually behold the glory of the Lord, they have a c1earer vision on the truth. My thanks to David Balch for insisting that I deal with these issues, though he will no doubt dissent from my opinion.
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first century openly. But in the context of the first few centuries, the combination of these two themes of ascension and transformation, both inside and outside ludaism, normally suggested the gaining of immortality and the context of lewish mysticism also connects with the issue of theodicy. Daniel 12 suggests that those who lead others to wisdom (or "the enlighteners": hamaskilim C",";,fV7-'i1) will shine as the brightness of the heavens, like the stars and that they will be among those resurrected for eternal reward. The Parables 01 Enoch (1 Enoch 37-71) contains the interesting narration of the transformation of Enoch into the son of man, but no one can be sure that this is not itself a Christian addition to the text, since it agrees so completely with the transformation that Paul outlines. 6 Without Paul we could not suppose that this experience is evidenced in the first century because the date of 1 Enoch is uncertain. N or would we know that the mystic experience was even possible within Judaism. Concomitant with Paul's worsbip of the divine Christ is transformation. Paul says in Philippians 3:10: "that I may know hirn and the power of his resurrection and may share his sufferings, becoming like hirn (avp.p.oP4>LNl-u:voc;) in his death." Later, in Philippians 3:20-21, he says: "But our commonwealth is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will change (p.sTcxaXYJp.cxTLasL) our lowly body to be like (avp.p.op4>ov) bis glorious body, by the power which enables bim even to subject all things to hirnself. " The body of the believer eventually is to be transformed into the body of Christ. Paul's depiction of salvation is based on bis understanding of Christ's glorification, partaking of early Jewish apocalyptic mysticism for its expression.7 In Romans 12:2 Paul's listeners are exhorted to "be transformed" 6The romance of exaltation to immortality was hardly a unique Jewish motif; rather it was characteristic of all higher spirituality of later Hellenism - witness the Hennetic literature. Even in a relatively unsophisticated text like the magical Recipe for Imnwrtality (the so-called Mithras Liturgy) of third century Egypt, the. adept gains a measure of immortality by gazing directly on the god and breathing in some of his essence. 7Scholars like Kim who want to ground all of Paul's thought in a single ecstatic conversion experience, which they identify with Luke's accounts of Paul's conversion, are reticent to accept this passage as a fragment from Christian liturgy because to do so would destroy its value as Paul' s personal revelatory experience. But there is no need to decide wh ether the passage is originally Paul's (hence received directly through the "Damascus revelation"), since ecstatic language nonnally is derived from traditions current within the religious group. Christian mystics use Christian language, Muslim mystics use the languages developed for mysticism in Islam, and no mystic is ever confused by another religion's mysticism unless it is the conscious and explicit intent of the mystic's vision to do so. See R. C. Zaehner; Steven Katz. In this case the language is not even primarily Christian. The basic language is from Jewish mysticism, though the subsequent exegesis about the identification of the Christ with the figure on the throne is Christian; the vision of God enthroned is the goal of Jewish mystical speculation.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 85 (p.STcxp.op4>oDaOs) by renewing of your minds." In Galatians 4:19 Paul expresses another transformation: "My little children, with whom I am again in travail until Christ be formed (p.op4>wOfl) in you!" This transformation is to be effected by becoming likE1 bim in his death (avp.p.op4>LSop.svoc; TG OcxvaTUJ cxvToD, Phil 3: 10). Paul' s central proclarnation is: J esus is Lord and all who have faith have already undergone a death like bis, so they will share in his resurrection. This proclarnation reflects a baptismal liturgy, implying that baptism provides the moment whereby the believer comes to be "in Christ." Christianity may have been a unique J ewish sect in making baptism a central rather than apreparatory ritual, but same of the mystical imagery comes from its Jewish past. Altematively, Paul can say, as he does in Galatians 1:16, that "God was pleased to reveal His San in me (ev ep.oL)." This is not a simple dative but refers to bis having received in hirn the Spirit, in bis case through his conversion. Being in Christ in fact appears to mean being united with his heavenly image. The same, however, is available to all Christians through baptism. This is not strange since apocalyptic and mystical Judaism also promoted tevilah (il'''J~), ritual immersion or baptism, as the central purification ritual preparing for the ascent into God's presence. The Jewish ritual of purification for coming into the divine presence and proselyte baptism has been transformed by Paul's community into a single rite of passage, though it does not thereby lose its relationsbip to its source. Dying and being resurrected along with Christ in baptism is the beginning of the process by which the believer gains the same image of God, God's SiKWV, which was made known to humanity when Jesus became the san of man - that human figure in heaven who brings judgment in the apocalypse described by Daniel. Paul' s conception of the risen body of Christ as the spiritual body (1 Cor 15:43) at the end of time and as the body of Glory (Phil 3:21) thus originates in Jewish apocalypticism and mysticism, modified by the unique events of early Christianity. The meaning of Romans 8:29 can be likewise clarified by Jewish esoteric tradition. There, Paul speaks of God as having "foreordained his elect to be conformed to the image of bis Son" (7rpOWpLasv aVJ-Lp.op4>ovc; TfjC; siKOVOC; ToD vioD cxvToD). Paul uses the genitive here rather than the dative as in Philippians 3:21, softening the identification between believer and savior. But when Paul states that believers conform to the image of his San, he is not speaking of an agreement of mind or ideas between J esus and the believers. The ward avp.p.op4>YJ itself suggests a spiritual reformation of the believer's body into the form of the divine image. Paul's language for conversion develops out of mystical Judaism.
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Paul speaks of the transformation being partly experienced by believers already in their pre-parousia existence. His use of present tense in Romans 12:2 and 2 Corinthians 3:18 underscores that transformation is an ongoing event. However in 1 Corinthians 15:49 and Romans 8 it culminates at Christ's return, the parousia. This suggests that for Paul transformation is both a single, definitive event yet also a process that continues until the second coming. The redemptive and trans formative process appears to correspond exactly with the turning of the ages. This age is passing away, though it certainly remains a present evil reality (1 Cor 3:19; 5:9; 2 Cor 4:4; Gal 1 :4; Rom 12:2). The gospel, which is the power of God for salvation (Rom 1:16), is progressing through the world (Phil1:12; also Rom 9-11). Christ is not explicitly given the title the Glory 0/ God in the New Testament. 8 But there are several New Testament passages in which o6~a (glory) and, more relevantly, the glory is attributed to Christ or the Son. In J ames 2: 1, it is possible that we should translate "our Lord J esus Christ, the Glory." Paul himself repeatedly uses the term" glory" to refer to Christ. In Philippians 3:21 Paul speaks of Christ's "Body of Glory" (r4J aWlla7L rTJ<; 06~'YJ<;) to which the believer's body is to be conformed. 9 He thinks of Christ as the Lord of Glory (1 Cor 2:8). Through the glory of the father, Christ was raised from the dead (Rom 6:4). God makes known the riches of glory in or through the exalted Christ (Romans 9: 23; Phil 4: 19; see also Eph 1: 18; 3:16; Col 1:27). The gospel which Paul preaches, which features the death, resurrection, and return of the Christ is called the gospel of glory (2 Cor 4:4; Timothy 1: 11; see also Col 1 :27). Other passages bearing on this theme would inc1ude 1 Corinthians 2:8, describing Christ as "the Lord of Glory," and the doubtfully Pauline Hebrews 1:3: "He reflects the Glory of God and bears the very stamp of his nature, upholding the universe by his word of power." In Ephesians 1:17 "the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of the Glory" appears. Even m~re interestingly, Paul describes the "Glory of the Lord" (2 Cor 3:16 - 4:6) in the very pi aces where he describes his own conversion, which he also uses as a pattern for experience by which other believers come to be in Christ. As an heir of Christ, the believer shares the glory of Christ (Romans 8: 17), which ec1ipses any suffering which may have been experienced in the believer's life (Rom 8:18; 2 Cor 4:15-17). This exchange of 8The older methodology of tracing Christological titles to the exc1usion of exegetical developments is tendentious anyway. See Donald Juel. 9G. Scholem has asked whether this phrase ought to be identified with the Merkabah term guf hashekhina, the body of Glory, which we find in Merkabah texts (276, n. 19). But Scholem did not exploit the implications of this perceptive intuition. On the history of the tenn "glory," see now Carey N ewman, especially chapter 6.
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SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 87 i
suffering (or glory will occur at Christ's coming, according to Colossians 3:4. Paul hirns elf talks of the faithful being changed or transformed into the "image of Christ" (Rom 8:29; 1 Cor 15:49), which again resembles Ezekiel's language of "the appearance of the likeness of the Glory of the Lord" (Ezek 1 :28; cf. LXX). Central to Paul's Christian experience is the transformation of believers at the apocalypse. More importantly, Paul anticipates the technical terminology of the transformation of believers into angels in J ewish mysticism. Of course, the mystical experience of conversion is not only with the risen Christ but with the crucified Christ. The most obvious relationship between the believer and Christ is suffering and death (Rom 7:24; 8:10, 13). By being transformed by Christ, one is not simply made immortal, given the power to remain deathless. Rather one still experiences death as the Christ did, and like hirn survives death for heavenly enthronement. This is a consequence of the Christian's divided state. Although part of the last Adam, living through Spirit, the Christi an also belongs to the world of the flesh. As J ames Dunn has noted: Su~fering was something all believers experienced - an unavoidable part of the behever's lot - an aspect of experience as Christians which his converts shared with Paul: Rom 5:3 (w~); 8:17f (we); 2 Cor 1:16 (you endure the same sufferings that w~ suffer); 8:2; Phil 1 :29f (the same conflict which you saw and now hear to be mrne); 1 Thess 1:6 (imitators of us and of the Lord); 2:14 (imitators of the churches of God in Judea: for you suffered the same things); 3:3f (our lot) 2 Thess 1 :4ff (Dunn:327).
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Thus, the persecution and suffering of the believers is a sign that the transformation process has begun; it is the way to come to be in Christ. Paul is convinced that being united with Christ's crucifixion me ans not immediate glorification but sujfering for the believers in this interim period. The glorification follows upon the final consummation. The connection between sufferin~ and resurrection has been c1ear in Jewish martyrology; indeed the connectlOn between death and rebirth was even a prominent part of the mystery religions as weIl. But the particular way in which Paul makes these connections is explicitly Christian.
Luke 's Portrait 0/ Paul Paul's Jewish mystical experience of the Kabod, which was at the same time avision of the crucified Christ, changed his life and made possible his movement from a Pharisaic community to a gentile Christi an church. But it did not have the same effect on Luke, who can hardly have appreciated Paul's
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vision in the same way. Indeed, as we shall see, he distinguishes distinctly between Paul and the other apostles on the basis of the quality of Paul' s experience, while Paul hirnself might have admitted that he was the least of them but he would have maintained his right to the title apostle on an equal basis with the original twelve. The importance to Christianity of these call narratives in Luke-Acts lies primarily in the thread uniting them, the sudden about-face expressing the significance of Paul's conversion to the Christi an community of Luke's time. While everyone acknowledges that Luke described Paul as a radieal convert, Luke may have intended something more as weIl. When scholars emphasize Paul' s description of hirns elf as a prophet in contrast to Luke' s description of Paul's radieal conversion, they ironieally are being unduly influenced by Luke's description, for Luke equally intended Paul's conversion to be understood as a prophetic call. Luke describes Paul's conversion as parallel to the commissioning of Jeremiah (Jer 1:5-11) and Isaiah (Isa 6:1-9). An encounter with God, divine commission with a "sending" formula, demur and resistance by the prophet, divine assurance, even preparation for the task by signs and wonders, are themes of prophetie calling drawn from the Hebrew Bible. Yet Luke' s portrayal of Paul' s conversion is modeled on a specific prophet. The most provocative par allels with Luke's account are with the commissioning of the prophet Ezekiel, whose call was special in several respects. First, Ezekiel was granted avision of a human figure, shaped like a man, which is called "the likeness of the image of the Glory of God. "10 We shall see that for Luke, Paul has a revelation of the Glory of God. When Ezekiel beheld the Glory of God, he reported: "I fell upon my face, and I heard the voiee of one that spoke" (1 :28). Paul hears a voice speaking as weIl (see Charlesworth), and it is clearly arevelatory voiee because Paul reacts in the same way as Ezekiel: he falls to the ground. When the Lord ordered Ezekiel to stand, Ezekiel narrated the words of Yahweh: "Stand upon your feet, and I will speak with you . . . . I send you to the people of Israel, to a nation of rebels, who have rebelIed against me" (Ezek 2: 1-3). Luke's Paul again reacts the same way. He rises, but with a significant modification: he rises and receives the charge to go to foreign lands to proselytize anation of rebels, gentiles rather than Jews as in Ezekiel. Moreover, to claim a prophetic appointment was not commonplace in first-century 10Indeed, it may be more exact to call the conversion a "discourse of heavenl}' appearance" or Erscheinungsgespräch, as does Gerhard Lohfink 1965, 1976:61-85. ThlS perspective has been criticized by O. H. Steck:20-28 and C. Burchard:54-:55. See Hedrick:416, n. 10 and Newman, who traces the biblical roots of the conceptlOn of the Kavod.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRlSTIAN CONVERSION 89 Judaism. Many Jews in authority had already promulgated the idea that prophecy had ceased. To seek such a privilege was therefore to attract some powerful enemies in the J ewish community. One of the unique aspects of Ezekiel' s prophecy was that he envisioned what seemed to be a human figure, "the likeness of a man," on God's heavenly conveyance, pulled by heavenly beasts (Ezek 1 :26). This figure is called the Kavod, the Glory of God, by the prophet (Ezek 1 :29; see Quispel). By usirig this direct parallel, Luke intends to convey to his audience that the Glory of God was revealed to Paul. Such a claim is not merely a stylistic convention, for the idea has a deep mystical meaning in Judaism. Furthermore, this identification is rare in exoteric Jewish literature but it is characteristic of some kinds of Christianity, especially the type espoused by Justin Martyr. Luke describes Paul's blindness as due to "the glory of that light" (22:11) and describes Paul as seeing "The Just One'?" (22:14). Though the import of these phrases is ambiguous, Luke did not fabrieate a relationship between Paul and Ezekiel; he is not alone in seeing the identification between Christ and the Glory of the Lord. In other words, the connection made by Luke between Paul and the call of Ezekiel can be shown most strongly within Paul's own writing. The theologieal implications of this hypothetical identification are staggering. Does Paul' s Christianity stern from the identification of Jesus with the Glory of God, the Hebrew Kavod, God's sometimes human appearance in the visions of the Hebrew Bible? Luke provides the first interpretation of Paul's conversion by figuring Paul's call in terms of Ezekiel's prophetie commissioning: by viewing it as a conversion, commissioning, or vocation, Luke interprets Paul' s conversion as having been initiated by a revelation of the image of God' s Glory. Even though Luke describes Paul explicitly as a new prophet, he also portrays Paul's experience as a radieal conversion. It is a deeply disturbing and emotional experience, which turns Paul's life completely around, offered as a model for the experience of other believers. To call Paul's experience a conversion not only has the effect of authenticating an experience of great emotional power and mystery; it also recognizes that implicit within Paul's call to Christianity is a call to join and later define a new community. As we shall see, the best way to define Paul's conversion is in terms of the community he left behind and the community he joined. Paul left behind Pharisaic Judaism and he joined gentile Christianity.
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There are many important differences between Paul and Luke, mostly stemming from their different purposes . Paul wants to vindicate his position as apostle, while Luke wants to portray the progress of the church from the Jewish community to the gentile one. The sequence basic to Luke's history of the church is unemphasized in Paul's own writing. Paul tries to express the content of his revelation while Luke uses Paul's ecstatic experience as a model for gentile conversions. Lastly and most importantly, although Paul certainly calls his conversion a revelation, Luke substitutes arevelatory audition unknown in Paul's writing. Luke was writing with more historical perspective than Paul and, of course, less personal knowledge of the experience, but he understands the importance of Paul's conversion in ways which Paul hirnself perhaps did not fully realize. The most significant aspect of Luke's description is the radical distinction between resurrection appearances of Christ and experiences of the spirit (Dunn). Neither Paul hirnself nor John distinguishes so clearly between "spiritual" and "resurrection" appearances. In 1 Corinthians 15:45, for instance, Paul shows no sensitivity to Luke's interpretive categories when he conflates the appearance of the risen J esus as "a life-giving spirit." Luke, on the other hand, distinguishes Paul's experience from that of the original twelve apostles. For Luke, the authentic resurrection appearances of Jesus in the gospel and Acts are far more mundane and "realistic." Jesus walks and talks with wayfarers, blesses them, eats, and is sometimes unrecognized at first. For Luke, these are not visionary appearances but meant to be descriptions of ordinary consciousness. Luke understands the first sightings of Jesus as actual physical manifestations .. The resurrection appearances are brought to an end by the ascension (Acts 1 :9ff). 11 Conversely, for Luke, Paul's conversion is a visionary audition, with no specific image described. Even though Paul's experience may have been visionary in some way, it falls into a second category of sightings, an expression of the spirit after Jesus' ascension,12 Luke identifies the original twelve disciples as apostles, limiting apostolic status to those who had accompanied Jesus during the length of his ministry (Acts 1 :21-6); by implication then, Paul falls into a secondary category, that of converts to Christ by means of the holy spirit. Paul may accept the status of the Twelve as special disciples, but he argues for his apostolate. For hirn, the appearance of Christ to hirn vindillIndeed, there are two different ascensions in his history . The gospel implies an ascension with the resurrection, which is fulfilled at the beginning of Acts. 12Ananias Peter and others receive visions ()7r1"OU1LaL, e.g., 2:17; 9:10; 10:3, 17; 11 :5 .. Paul' s ~xperie~ce is also a trance, BKU1"(Y.UeL, 22: 17.
SEGAL: PAULAND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 91 cates his equal status as an apostle, even though it occurred in a revelation and vision. Indeed, he includes hirns elf in the list of those to whom J esus' res'urrection was made manifest (Gal 1; 1 Cor 9:1; 15:8f). Paul may recognize that he is "last of all" and "untimely born," but he will not give up his claim to be an apostle, because Christ appeared to hirn. He uses the same simple word, see, to describe his and the other apostles' experience of the Christ. Paul therefore does not distinguish between the kind of appearance made known to him and those of his forebears. For Luke, ecstatic experience is already the established role model for the conversion of gentiles, because of Paul. But it is not the model for resurrection appearances, which are treated literally and give a special status to the first apostles. For Paul, in contrast, the revelatory vision of the Christ functions as a bid for power, since he was a peripheral figure in Christianity, as his battle for apostolic acceptance shows. 13 The motif of realistic appearances in Luke is similar to a Greco-Roman apologetic designed to impress critics and friends with the power of Jesus' resurrection, whereas the ecstatic visions of Paul are more in line with the original Jewish apocalypticism out of which Christianity arose. Luke' s and Paul' s description of the risen Christ is significant in social ways as well. The contrast between them points to an incipient crisis in the church - between those, mostly Jewish Christians, who based their new faith on an experience of Jesus in the flesh and those, mostly gentile Christians championed by the ex-Pharisee Paul, who based their faith on a spiritual interpretation of the Christ, seen primarily in his resurrection or spiritual body. The theology, in other words, par allels the social distinction in early Christianity between those who knew Christ in a fleshly way and those who knew hirn in his spiritual body. This visiqn and the subsequent success of the gentile mission convince Paul that the newage is not only imminent but that it has already begun. It also convinces hirn that his Jewish opponents see the Christ in a fleshly rather than aspiritual way. It turns out, however, that conversion is not a cultural universal. Each community evolves a definition of conversion which makes sense to it. But if a universal definition of conversion is lacking, community definitions of the phenomenon are never absent. Conversions are almost always defined in 130f course, one can take the distinction too far, for in 2 Corinthians 12, in the same passage that Paul describes a revelation and ascent to the heavens, he argues against other Christians who claim yet more authority for ecstatic experiences. So Paul represents a compromise position between pure periphery and pure centrality in early Christianity. If he were more characteristic of a peripheral prophet he would not oppose the charismatics so vigorously. On the other hand he feels that a11 have a proper place (1 Cor 12:4-13).
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some conventional way by each community and most conversions in the community do conform to the community's evolving model. Many descriptive studies of conversion in special communities note a stereotypic character of the narration.1 4 A conversion report idealizes and conventionalizes the conversion experience for the group that values it, guiding potential converts. Wehave already seen that Paul hirnself uses his conversion story to advance his gospel. This follows the expected pattern developed from modern data. When the reports are written down and collected, conventionalization becomes even more evident. 15 Very often, the stereotypes are formed by the narration of a founder figure's conversion. This we found to be operant in Luke's stories about Paul and equally so in the pastorals. Paul's own experience stands squarely within Jewish mysticism. Luke's description is cognizant of that connection, but Luke is more taken with the issue of spirit possession in the later church. Luke's model for Paul's conversion reflects a more evolved definition of conversion within the Church, a model for many converts to follow. For Luke, Paul's ecstatic conversion on the road to DaIilascus is the first of a large number of ecstatic conversions. Another interesting exposition of the new developing definition of Christi an conversion comes toward the end of Luke's narration of Paul's life. When Paul is interrogated by King Agrippa and the Roman Procurator Festus in Acts 26:24-29, the following dialogue takes place: And as he thus made his defense, Festus said with a loud voice, "Paul, you are mad; your great learning is turning you mad." But Paul said, "I am not mad, most excellent Festus, but I am speaking the sober truth. For the king knows about these things, and to hirn I speak freely; for I am persuaded that none of these things has escaped his notice, for this was not done in a corner. King Agrippa, do you believe the prpphets? I know that you believe." And Agrippa said to Paul, "In a short time you think to make me a Christian! " And Paul said, "Whether short or long, I would to God that not only you but also all who hear me this day might become such as I am - except for these chains. "
Luke has fashioned this encounter into a conventional confrontation between the wise man and the ruler. But it is not thereby devoid of historical meaning. As Abraham Malherbe has polnted out, the wit, irony, and sarcasm in this passage depends very much on understanding differing communities' definitions of conversion. Philosophical (and I might add most 14At arecent conference I heard one researeher remark, "Onee you've read one Monnon conversion narration, you've read them all. " The rather terse remark has nothing to do with Monnon literature, whieh is neither more nor less stereotypie than other devotionalliterature. Rather it is a comment about conversion literature in general. 15S ee Taylor:316-323; Beckford:249-262; Snow and Machalek 1983; Staples and Mauss:133-147.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRlSTIAN CONVERSION 93 Jewish) definitions of conversion were characterized by long training; they depended on this trait for their credibility. Therefore Paul is being criticized for thinking to make converts too quickly. Luke' s Paul answers that he does not care whether it be a quick or slow conversion, provided that the king is converted. Luke thereby certifies that his contemporary Christi an missionaries could hope for quick conversions, as weIl as slow, more conventionalones. By the time of Justin, who keeps to a more philosophical definition of Christianity, such a conversion would have been viewed with suspicion among some Christi ans as weIl. But in Luke's time the quickness of the conversion apparently emphasizes the miraculous power of the spirit. So Luke also portrays Paul's conversion as a sudden Damascus Road experience. Luke uses Paul's example doubly, both as a paradigm of a convert and as a model for Christian missionaries. Paul himself certainly portrays his conversion as thorough and radical. But he does not necessarily think of his conversion as quick. On the other hand, he c1early has made conversion to Christianity easier and perhaps shorter than the normal conversion to Judaism, as his opponents will charge. Unlike Luke, Paul himself could scarcely have suggested that his spiritual experience was typical of all believers. When we look at his ecstatic experiences, such as those narrated in 2 Corinthians 12, we shall see that it provides Paul with special credentials as an apostle. It is not meant to be a universal experience, though it reveals to Paul a universal and hidden meaning to history . However, Paul' s narrative is by no me ans conterminous with the events, either of his conversion or his subsequent revelations. A long period of time had passed between Paul' s actual conversion experience and his account of himself. According to his autobiographical statements in Galatians 1, a minimum of fourteen and perhaps more than seventeen years must have passed, by our counting,16 So Paul's own description is affected by his Christian calling. This Christian use of Paul himself as the role model for a convert is even c1earer in the pastoral epistles. 1 Timothy 1: 12-17 purports to be Paul's own description of his conversion but has much more in common with Luke' s 16Hellenistic conventions for counting years give a different total than we might expect. Scholars have estimated on the basis of Hellenistie reckonings that from twelve to seventeen years could actually have passed. Sinee the counting could inc1ude the present year, even if it were a bare fraction of a year, as weIl as what we would consider the first year and the same inc1usionary policy was possible at the end of the time period, a wider time span is possible than we would nonnall y allow. Koester demurs from the use of the tenn conversion on the basis of Paul's self-understanding as a prophet (101-106). But onee both the change and the mission are brought out, any differences in tenninology are likely to" be semantic.
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ideas about Paul:!7 I thank hirn who has given me strength for this, Christ Jesus our Lord because he judged me faithful by appointing me to his service, though I formerly blasphemed and persecuted and insulted hirn; but I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of fuH acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. And I am the foremost of sinners; but I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience for an example to those who were to believe in hirn for eternal life. To the King of Ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
This passage stresses the contrast between the two periods of Paul's life, his life before conversion and after it. But before conversion Paul is portrayed as the fore most of sinners (1: 16) in this pastoral letter, while the Paul of the authentic letters asserts that he is blameless according to the law (Phil 3:6). Although Paul emphasizes his conversion, and may even regret his former life as a persecutor of Christianity, he never considers himself to be the foremost sinner. This passage in Timothy then has a distinct1y postPauline character. As much or more than Paul hirnself, this conversion is depicted as a model (inror(nrWaLlI, 1: 16) for the conversion of all nonbelievers. Rather , the theme of repentant sinners is appropriate to the gentile mission, where repentance from a sinful life was a prominent theme. While the message is mostly Pauline - the narrative reflection upon it comes from the historical distance - it is eloser to Luke's than to Paul's authentic voice. And it points out how, by means of Luke's narrative, Paul's life came to be a model for Christi an conversion. Thus we have at least three distinct stages of development in the early Church's understanding of ecstatic conversion: (1) Paul's own ecstatic, emotional experience, which is intensely personal, special, and visionary, and which he uses to establish his apostolate, as weIl as to exemplify the power of the spirit; (2) Luke's contention that Paul's experience is typical of gentile conversions (but not equivalent to the experience of the disciples); and (3) the deliberate attempt to make Paul into a paradigm for gentile conversion experiences. Stages two and three are typical of Luke but stage three continues into the pastoral epistles. So Paul's letters are documents of primary importance to Judaism. In them are the very first witness to Jewish mysticism, in a personal and confessional way. Paul tells us in his own language just what it feels like to be transformed into the glory of God, to become a star, as it were. Paul is the
r~See Wilson 1979 for the notion that the pastorals were written by Luke. His discussion of 1 Timothy 1: 12-17 appears in 1979: 109.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 95 only Pharisee to leave us his writings, and the only Jewish mystic in the first century to do so.
The Salvation ofthe Gentiles: Luke, Paul, and the Rabbis Taking this evolution of models of conversion into account, one notices immediately that there is a parallel his tory of the concept of universalism in Christianity. The New Testament evinces the same ambivalence on the issue of the inelusion of gentiles as do the other Jewish sects. According to Acts 15 the issue arises at Antioch before the Jerusalem council, because emissaries from Jerusalem maintain that one cannot be saved unless one is circumcised according to the custom of Moses (eall f1.r, 1repLrYJf1.YJ()r,re rCi? e()eL rCi? MwuaiwC;, DU OVlICLa()e aw()r,lIOlL, Acts 15:1). Sometimes the rejection of this principle is taken by a Christian readership to show the beginning of the process by which Christianity rid itself of painfully parochial ideas in Judaism. Yet, leaving aside the issue of dating in rabbinic Judaism, one puzzling aspect of this report is at odds with normative rabbinic thought of later centuries, which feels that the righteous of all nations have a place in the world to come. Gf course, one does not take issue with an ancient historical source w~thout some sense of also taking on the burden of proof. Almost all New Testament critics distrust Luke's chronology of the events of p'aul's life for several reasons, not least of all that he is writing at least a generation after the fact. When it comes to issues of historical interpretation the situation is more subtle and less satisfying. As I will show, Luke appears correct in saying that there were Jews who refused to allow that some gentiles could be saved as gentiles, who even would not accept any gentiles into the Israelite faith~ or who imposed certain ritual requirements on them. So it is entirely posslble that the conservative members of the Church do not go along with the Jerusalem church's decision (a new directive from Jerusalem is not likely to have .chang~d their opinion either, since these positions are variously founded In JewIsh law, which the conservative members of the church continued to observe). The restrictive understanding of salvation is characteristic of some kinds of apocalyptic Judaism and was aired as a position within the rabbinic movement. But we shall see that it is certainly not at all uniformly a~cepted within the Jewish community. Paul will partly help us resolve this dIlemma of unraveling the ancient J ewish positions and datings for this issue because Paul is the only Pharisee who ever gave us his personal writings. Luke equates the idea that there is no salvation without circumcision ,,:,ith the. position of the party of the Pharisees who say: "It is necessary to CIrcumClse them, and to charge them to keep the law of Moses" (Acts 15:5).
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For Luke, writing from a comfortable historical distance, the questions appear to be part of the same single issue of the inclusion of gentiles into the community of the saved. But for rabbinic Judaism the two questions which Luke mentions in this passage are hardly identical. In the first instance (Acts 15: 1), we are tal king about justification and salvation; in the second (Acts 15:5), we need only be talking about proper conversion. Rabbinic Judaism (as evidenced by the Mishnah, which is redacted at the beginning of the third century) distinguishes radically between conversion and salvation. It does say all Israel will be saved. But it allows that some gentiles can be saved qua gentiles without conversion: conversion to Judaism is hence not necessary for salvation, though it is certainly admirable. The rabbis do not define as exclusive a club for salvation as does Christianity, and the reasons for it are not hard to find in the historical context, as will shortly become clear. On the other hand, rabbinic Judaism requires that all converts to ludaism be strictly charged to keep the law 0/ Moses. No doubt this is something like what Paul had in mind when he says: "Now I, Paul, say to you that if you receive circumcision, Christ will be of no advantage to you. I testify again to every man who receives circumcision that he is bound to keep the whole law" (Gal 5:2-3). Viewed in this way, Paul can tell us that the rabbinic notion that gentiles can be saved without conversion is already in existence. Rabbinie writings debate the issue of the salvation of the gentiles, as they debate almost every issue. Rabbi Eliezer said: "All the nations will have no share in the world to corne, even as it is said, 'the wicked shall go into Sheol, and all the nations that forget God' (Ps 9: 17). The wicked shall go into Sheol - these are the wicked arnong Israel." Rabbi Joshua said to hirn: "If the verse had said, 'The wicked shall go into Sheol with all the nations,' and had stopped there, I should have agreed with you, but as it goes on to say 'who forget God,' it rneans there are righteous rnen arnong the nations who have a share in the world to corne" (t. Sanh. 13:2).18
Some Tannaim, represented by Rabbi Eliezer, said that only Israel will be saved. Others, represented by Rabbi Joshua, said that the righteous gentiles would be saved as weIl. Would that we could trust that these were the actual positions of the rabbis! We cannot any more, given our natural skepticism about the value of oral reports. But we should not assurne that the texts are deliberately misinforming us either. Like Luke, the midrash is not necessarily totally at error; it has probably foreshortened and conflated in a way that seems justified from its own perspective. We do note that the Mishnah and Midrash are at least consistent on this issue, which one can hardly claim about a number of other issues: The posil~M.
Sanh. 10, t. Sanh. 13:2, b. Sanh. 105a, Sifra 86b, b. Baba Kamma 38a.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 97 tions attributed to Rabbis Eliezer b. Hyrcanus and Joshua b. Hananiah, two Pharisees of the late first century, are typical of other remarks that rabbinic literature has attributed to them. Rabbi Eliezer is a severe critic of gentiles. Rabbi Joshua b. Hananiah is more liberal. He removes all distinctions between Jew and gentile in attaining salvation through the doing of good deeds. He says that everyone who walks in blamelessness before his Creator in this world will escape the judgment of hell in the world to come. He even disagrees with Rabbi Gamaliel by maintaining that the blameless children of wicked heathen will also have a share in the world to come. Though Rabbi J oshua probably does not allow conversion without circumcision, he at least looks at the positive side of the issue by stating that baptism without circumcision makes one a ger (that is, a proselyte, a convert). All the ritual has to be done, but if the circumcision is to be performed, the status of convert can be regarded as beginning with baptism from some points of view (see b. Yebam. 46a). If the argument between Eliezer and Joshua were historical, then they would be directly conterminous with the first generations of Christi ans . It is possible that the rabbis debate this issue because it is raised by the Christian community and that they take their cues from them. This has always been an unpopular hypothesis in the study of rabbinic texts but it should not be automatically excluded, as Jews have perennially learned significantly from their friends and enemies, creating throughout their history similar as weIl as contrasting formulations of issues which they absorbed from outside sources . But the questions in Luke and the rabbis are sufficiently different in formuiation and logic in my eyes to preclude direct borrowing. We seem to have two different but originally loosely related (and probably contemporaneous) formulations of the issue of God's universal concern for humanity. The most satisfactory understanding of the problem appears to be that it was an issue of late Hellenistic Judaism exacerbated and interpreted by each community in terms of their increasingly separate historical predicaments.
The I ewish Environment The ambiguity of these traditions is promoted by the fact that there are two different models for gentile inclusion in J ewish tradition. The status of the gentiles is discussed in later rabbinic Judaism both through the rubric of the resident sojoumer and the doctrine of the Noahide Commandments. They conflict, in the first place by making different assumptions ab out the purpose and motivation of gentile interest in Judaism. The contlicts had to be
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systematically worked out, both in Christianity and rabb~nic Jud~ism~ as it turns out. The ambiguity in both cases is worked out m the dlrectlOn of uni versalism. The issue of the resident sojourner derived from the biblical rules incumbent upon "the stranger in your gates. "19 Resident sojoumers were obliged to abstain from offering sacrifices to strange gods (Lev 17:7-9), from eating blood in any form (Lev 17:10ft), from incest (Lev 18:6-26), fr?m work on the Sabbath (Exod 20:10t), and from eating leavened bread dunng the Passover (Exod 12: 18t).20 The second model is the rabbinic doctrine of the "Noahide Commandments." This rabbinic doctrine is derived from a sopbisticated and theological formulation that some legal enactments were given be fore Sinai, during the primeval history to an human beings. Furthermore, . the sign of ~he Noahide covenant, the rainbow, is available to an humanlty to symbohze God' s promise of safety. And it is completely outside of the special covenant with Abraham and his descendants. The covenant with Noah is expanded to the entire primeval period, encompassing an the revealed commandments preceding Sinai. The Noahide Commandments (e.g., t. AZ 8.4 and more fully in b. Sanh. 56b) function somewhat like a concept of "natural law," which any just person can be expected to fonow by observation and reason. In more Christi an theological language, it is available by God's grace to all humanity. Here is the earliest rabbinic version, as stated in the Tosefta to Avodah Zarah: Seven commandments were the sons of Noah commanded: (1) concerning adjudication (dinim) , (2) and concerning idolatry (avodah zarah) , (3~ and. concerning blasphemy (qileZat ha-shem), (4) and concerning sexual immorallt?' (gzZuy arayot), (5) and concerning bloodshed (shefikhut damim), (6) and concernmg robbery (hagezeZ) , (7) and concerning a limb tom from a living animal (eber min ha-hayy).21
As David N ovak says in bis discussion of the N oahide Commandments: "What emerges from an of this discussion is that in the Tannaitic period, there was a debate over the number and content of the Noahide laws. We have no record, however, that any authority in that period rejected the doctrine per se. " Another elose parallel to the N oahide Commandments can found in the Book of Jubilees 7:20-21, wbich is pre-Christian: 22 19Here the work of Novak is right on the mark. But Christian scholarship has preceded hirn. See Hurd:250-53 for the basic bibliography; also see Richards?n; Dahl. 20See Wilson 1974. My interpretation softens Wilson's arguments a bIt but agrees with them in principle. . . 21The technical terminology of these sections is so commonly transhterated mto English that I forego the more scientific notation for clarity's sake. 22S ee Novak:3-35. Novak dates the laws to Maccabean times, albeit with no textual
SEGAL: PAULAND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 99 And in the twenty-eighth jubilee Noah began to command his grandsons with ordinances and commandments and all of the judgments wh ich he knew. And he bore witness to his sons so 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 fomication and pollution and from all injustice.
The particular ordinances thought to be universally humane by Jubilees are establishing justice, eschewing incest, honoring parents, loving neighbors, and prohibiting adultery, promiscuity, and pollution from injustice. 23 In Jubilees , this short law code forms the basis of the judgment against the giants; which brings on the flood and sets the scene for the myths contained in Enoch. It would be unwise, however, to assurne that Jubilees is promulgating such ideas in order to find a basis for humane universalism - which is more or less what the rabbis and Christi ans do with it. Quite the contrary, Jubilees has a strictly dualistic view of the world, both on the divine and human level, in consonance with the ideas of Qumran sectarians, in whose library it figured prominently. Israel is identified as a good kingdom. God selected it as special and above an other peoples (2:21) to be marked by circumcision (15: 11). It alone can participate in the Sabbath and the other God ordained festivals. The other nations are condemned, and God has placed spirits in authority over them to lead them astray. Jubilees 22:16 wams Jews not to eat with a gentile. Jubilees forcefully says that there is no salvation without circumcision on the eighth day (15:26:"27). That virtually means that conversion of the gentiles is impossible. Even a charitable reading supposes that only the children of converts can enter the community: And anyone who is born whose own flesh is not circumcised on the eighth day is not from the sons of the covenant which the Lord made for Abraham, since (he is) from the children of destruction. And there is therefore no sign upon hirn so that he might belong to the Lord because (he is destined) to be destroyed and annihilated from the earth and to be uprooted from the earth because he has broken the covenant of the Lord our God. Because the nature of all of the angels of the presence and al1 of the angels of sanctification he sanctified Israel so that they might be with hirn and with his holy angels. 24 support, because it seems to hirn to be appropriate to the time of forced conversions. Then he discounts the witness of Jubilees. Neither hypothesis convinces me. But Novak's main emphasis is on the later discussion of these rules in talmudic and posttalmudic times, which is more convincing. 23Notice that as in Paul' s writing and parallel with the other Judaisms of the day, Jubilees here uses pollution as a metaphor for unrighteousness. 24S 0 translates O. S. Wintermute:87.
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The obvious reason for the inclusion of the N oahide Commandments at this place is to provide Jubilees with a legal warrant for condemning the gentiles. God would not consign most of humanity to destruction without reason; the gentiles know His law and have spurned it. This is entirely appropriate to a sectarian position, where all the gentiles and but a saving remnant of Israel are scheduled for destruction. We know from this evidence that there were sects within Judaism which did not subscribe to any liberal ideas about the capabilities of gentiles. 25
The Apostolic Decree Luke teIls us something else about the status of the discussion ab out the Noahide Commandments in first century Judaism. Acts 15:20, 15:29, and 21:25 describe an Apostolic Decree defining a minimum of practice for the new gentile Christi ans : Therefore my judgment is that we should not trouble those of the Gentiles who turn to God, but should write to them to abstain from the pollutions of idols and from unchastity and from what is strangled and from blood. For from early generations Moses has had in every city those who preach hirn, for he is read every sabbath in the synagogues (15:19-21). That you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled, and from unchastity (15:29). Thus a11 will know that there is nothing in what they have been told about you but that you yourself live in observance of the law. But as for the Gentiles who have believed, we have sent a letter with our judgment that they should abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from unchastity (21 :24-5).
In other words, the Christian discussion of gentiles is evidence that the issue of the legal and ceremonial responsibilities of gentiles was being debated in Judaism too, even if the argument had special characteristics within the Christian community. The Apostolic Decree, as Luke transcribes it, is neither exactly the laws of the resident sojourner nor the Noahide Commandments; it is a peculiar, ambiguous melange, perhaps even a combination of both. The new Christian "God-fearers" (asß6p.svOL or ~oßOUP.SVOL), as 25The rabbis also c1arified that when a child is not circumcised, his future reward is not automatically imperiled. Such a lack is, in the opinion of the later rabbis at least, a sin of his father (Shulhan Arukh, "Yoreh Dea" 260.1). Sabbath laws took precedence over circumcision laws for children born by caesarean section. So for later rabbinic tradition, it was not even necessary to be circumcised on the eighth day to be Jewish, part of Israef, or deserving of the world to come.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 101 such gentiles are sometimes caIled, had to abstain from idol sacrifices (SlOWAOOUTWV) , from blood (a'{p.aTo<;) (whatever that may mean: perhaps froin eating blood entirely, or perhaps from blood sacrifices, as the Sibylline Oracles says, or perhaps from bloodshed). They must also stay away from 7rVLKTWV, evidently a ritual requirement of some sort, perhaps avoidance of animals which had been throttled and killed as prey - hence a translation of the Hebrew term Tereja. 26 Similarly, the resident sojourners should observe the basic moral code of the Jews, staying away from forbidden marriages, incest, and unchastity (7r0pVsLa<;).27 The question is: What kind of a code is the Apostolic Decree? Is it moral or cultic? What does it forbid? Which model does it evince? Even terms like "moral" and "cultic" are not easy to use because they contain some ambiguities as weIl. The Apostolic Decree can hardly be a complete moral code, because such obvious sins as theft are entirely missing, although they are present in the rabbinic formulation of the N oahide Commandments. Thus, the Apostolic Decree is not exactly what the Noahide Commandments are supposed to be. Obviously, Christi ans are expected not to steal, though that is not covered above. Probably the Ten Commandments and other, more explicitly HeIlenistic virtue lists were in effect for all the community.28 The question here is only the rules specifically appropriate for those gentiles who do not convert to Judaism. Thus, these laws are not exactly the Noahide Commandments, because they assume a social situation where the Christians are subject to other moral standards as weIl. But they are not exactly the received rules for resident sojourners either since there are fewer rules and the situation is somewhat different. Obviously, the Apostolic Decree, as it stands, is another formula of the same type as both of them but adapted to a unique purpose: just rules for Jewish Christi ans and gentile Christians living together. In other words, in the Apostolic Decree, some issues were taken for granted because they were obviously eschewed by all Christians.29 The 26Perhaps, as the later church sometimes interpreted it, 7rll~KrWll means animals killed and prepared by stewing or boiling - what the French and especially the Cajuns would calila viande. etoufee, a remembrance of the rule against meat and milk or perhaps another reference to Improper slaughter. If I had to guess, I would say that 7rll~KTOC; refers to terefa, since 7rll~~TOC; is a reasonable Greek translation of the Hebrew word denoting the carcass of an ammal caught as prey and because not eating tref foods is one of the most basic requirements of Jewish food laws. 27See Wilson 1983:87-100. 28EiowMOura is often taken to be cultic, while eiOWAOtrpta would be moral. But the rabbis might see the issue differently. No doubt they would see both as morally wrong, but the term eiOWAOtrpta is too general; thus it is less helpful than eiowAoOuTa, which has the advantage of specifying which types of behavior are forbidden. 29S ee the helpful artic1e of Kirsopp Lake: 195-211, 212-223.
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decree concemed only those things which Jewish Christi ans might impose on gentile Christians to allow them to live in their midst. Wilson suggests that Luke understands the Apostolic Decree as a universal moral code, a kind of Noahide Commandments, because he appears to interpret cxIJlf:i. as bloodshed and because he already knows that the food laws and ceremonial laws of Judaism are now suspended, from the stories that he relates about Peter. Thus, the only purpose o'f the code for Luke is as a universal moral code for gentiles. Furthermore, there is a significant textual variant in the Western text, which adds a negative version of the golden rule at this point and eliminates the 7rVÜ(TOC; elause. Thus, the textual tradition, which is most easily understood as a theologically sophisticated early gloss, underlines that the church has followed Luke in taking a "moral" rather than a "ceremonial" interpretation of these early Christian laws. In this regard, the interpretation of the Greek words cxlp.cx and 7rVLKTOC; is crucial for understanding the original intent of the Apostolic Decree. Whatever 7rVLKTOC; means, it seems elearly ceremonial or ritual, ensuring that the approach of the first church council was at least partly "ceremonial" as well as "moral." The ambiguity in the rules hides a change in church perspective over time and it possibly also hides a deliberate attempt to express both sides of the conflict, perhaps even a strategy not to needlessly alienate one Christian community. Here we lay bare one of Luke's basic methods. He cannot drop out the original edicts of the conference but he places them in a context which changes their import somewhat, in line with his more universal perspective. As it is, cxlp.cx and eiow'A,o(}VTCX can be interpreted ceremonially or ethically. In its original Jewish context there would not be much need to distinguish, but the import of the rules was probably to make the earliest gentile Christians pure enough to interact with their J ewish coreligionists. It is for this reason that Wilson suggests that moral universalism was not necessarily the original intent of the decree, and I agree wholeheartedly. There is little point in detailing "ritual" requirements after they are suspended. The ritual requirements must be more original, reflecting a time in the church when the gentiles were viewed by the framers of the decree more like resident sojoumers, who must conform their practice to the minimum practice within the community. It must have come from a time where Luke's summary historical theology had not yet penetrated, a time which Luke has no interest in detailing accurately and perhaps did not understand either. Thus, the history of the Apostolic Decree is incomplete as it stands now. _There are comparable problems in reading the Christian evidence as there are in reading the Jewish evidence. Just as there are problems reading
I
the his tory of the N oahide Commandments, so too there are insoluble problems in tracing the history of the Apostolic Decree which is, indeed, known to us in far more detail than rabbinic history . But it will turn out that these two documents should be seen as strategies to resolve the same problems, two chapters in the same history; and when they are, the same tendency towards universalization will become evident in both communities. The difference between the N oahide Commandments and the rules for the sojourner is elear from a social point of view. The resident sojourner must, because of the elose association with Israelites, observe some of the laws of Judaism, while the Noahide Commandments refer to the ultimate disposition of gentiles and thus entirely to gentiles who are not observant. The resident sojourners may be ethical or not; the issue is irrelevant. The law of the sojourner is formulated for the benefit of the Israelites who need not tolerate certain impieties within their own political or social territory. The social issue in the Noahide Commandments is quite different. With the Noahide Commandments first a different theological issue enters: can God entirely spurn the gentiles? Both Christians and rabbinic Jews answer: "No!" but they formulate the process of inelusion in different ways. In the rabbinicconsensus, the gentiles need not observe any Jewish law at all; the sole question is whether they can be righteous, hence worthy to inherit the world to come. The issue has to do with the place of Israel within the wider category of humanity . The original historical context suggests the social function of the two models. They correspond to the two different but related social situations of Jews in the Hellenistic world. The first, the resident sojoumer, refers to a situation where Jews are in the majority and have political power. In that situation they can maintain that gentiles ought to do a certain amount of Jewish ritual - even ineluding circumcision, if they want to eat the passover sacrifice. This formulation of a ger, a resident sojoumer, later becomes the major legal basis for discussions of conversion in Judaism. Rabbinic discussion can use the same word to cover both conceptions, stimulating the distinction between an ordinary ger and a ger tsedek, a full convert. Thus, the issue of how to accommodate gentiles depends on the social landscape. It is not directly caused by the existence or destruction of the temple OI" the old land of Israel/diaspora split. But one can see that both history and geography have an effect on which model will be adopted in specific situations. In the land of Israel under Israelite law, the resident sojourner is the easiest model to apply. But wherever J ews are not the majority of the population or have very limited political power to affect or control their neighbors, the second model can become more relevant. In such a situation, there is even a danger of gentile backlash in being too open to converting
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gentiles. We have ample evidence of the concern of the pagan community that the Jews and Christians are stealing their children from them. 30 In these situations, the concept of a righteous gentile, who eschewed sin but did not explicitly take up the special rules of Judaism, would have a positive value. So before the third century when the mature doctrine is voiced in rabbinic Judaism, certain ambiguities would naturally obtain. In areas around Palestine with a Jewish majority and certain rights of self-rule, one set of procedures would be more relevant. In other areas, the other might. During the hostilities with Rome when circumcision was forbidden, the only alternative for an interested gentile would have been becoming a god-fearer. So too in mature Christianity and Judaism, both of whom work with a gentile majority as the given, the concept of righteous gentile is much more important. In the first and early second century, before the situation clarified, the situation was more fluid as the Christi an evidence shows us. The ambiguity of the Christian f~rmulation of the Apostolic Decree merely underlines the imprecision of the earliest discussions of the issues. 31 Of course, there would never have been any necessity or purpose for adopting this vocabulary within the Christian church had the moral and ethical universalism so evident to Luke been evident to the earliest Christians. The vocabulary was probably adopted because some Christian J ews viewed the first gentile Christians through the rubric of the law of the sojourners. Gentile Christians might convert to Judaism if they wished. But if they did not seek such a right, evidently by circumcision, they should at least make some cultic or ceremonial accommodations to J ewish observances so that the whole group could interact. Conversion to Judaism is thus not the only cultic approach to the inclusion of gentiles within the community. It is merely the most conservative one. Possibly this is why James and Peter agreed that circumcision was not necessary. They may have understood that there was another option: The gentiles did not have to become Jews, but they may have had to make other ceremonial accommodations. This is logical because the earliest church was largely a Jewish majority with a small gentile minority. While many Jewish Christians seemed positive to the idea of being one com30See Segal:84-96. 31Whether dCP.CXTOC; refers to a moral action or a ritual one is not entirely clear in church tradition, which has taken it in both ways. Traces of the decree appear in Revelation 2:14, 20, 24, Didache 6:3, Justin Dial. 34-35, Tertullian, Apoi., Eusebius H. E. 5.1.26 in a letter dated c.e. 177, from Lyons, Minucius Felix Octavius 30, Sibylline Oracles, 2.93, Pseudo-Clementine Homily 7.8.1. The early Christians more closely approximate the ordinances of Jubilees than did the thirc!. century rabbis. "Thus the ambiguity in the Christian evidence as to whether the term cxiJJ.cx refers to a Jewlsh rule of slaughter or bloodshed shows that this ambiguity was rather early. See Hurd:250-253 for the "basic bibliography.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 105 munity with gentiles, many thought that some kind of accommodation to the ritual purity of the Jewish community should and could be reached. Only a few took Paul' s position that no ritual accommodations were necessary. Furthermore, Paul himself was forced to compromise in place after place, by saying that although Christi an freedom demanded no ceremonial observance no ep'YCl. TOV vOflov, Christian unity demanded that the strong always accom~ modate to the feelings of the weak for the sake of peace in the community. Paul begins by assuming that the gentiles need observe none of the Jewish laws, in effect assuming the model of the Noahide Commandments. On the other hand, he advises that for the sake of the "weak " "the strong " who understand the unimportance of these observances, shouid not push th:ir point, but rather submit, if necessary, to whatever roles seem needed to preserve the peace within the community. Needless to say, Paul's policy of conciliation could easily have produced confusion for Paul' s hearers and readers. The opposition is much clearer. The dominant model of some of the other church fathers is apparently close to that of the roles of the sojoumer, not the Noahide Commandments - that there are some rules of observance which the Jewish Christians have a right to insist upon. This me ans , in effect, that they understand that there are a few gentiles mixed into a larger Jewish sect. Paul, on the other hand, reflects the position of a majority of gentiles in which a few Jewish Christi ans have to live. Paul does not openly in any place discuss the Apostolic Decree. Either he did not know it (meaning that it had not actually yet been formulated by the church in the way that Luke expresses it), or he chooses to ignore it. In that case, it is plausible to argue that to have acknowledged the modified sojoumer model which underlies the Apostolic Decree would have jeopardized Paul's radical position on Christi an freedom. Instead Paul begs moderation and continues his basic attack that the gentiles are to be added to the community of the faithful through the model of the Noahide Commandments, with no specific roles of Judaism in place, especially not circumcision. Either of the two alternatives is understandable within the Christian formulation of the discussion. But one must realize that even if the church had not formally ratified anything like the Apostolic Decree, it is quite likely that early J ewish Christi an church communities were automatically applying their Jewish understanding of what was necessary for gentiles to join their midst. The issue would have had to be present, as Paul' s letters so amply testify, even if the specific solution had not yet formally evolved. We can see parts of this in his letter to the Galatians: Now I Paul say to you that if you receive circumcision, Christ will be of no advantage to you. I testify again to every man who receives circumcision that he is bound to keep the whole law (Galatians 5:2-3).
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT If you receive circumcision, you are bound to follow the entire law
because you have converted to Judaism. Paul says that wh at is necessary is that all be transformed by the spirit, which is in modem parlance a different kind of conversion. 1t follows that when one is not circumcised, one does not have to keep the whole law. But it does not follow that one need not keep some parts of it; we have seen that many Jews and Christi ans assumed that part of the law was an encumbrance upon non-J ews who wish to live with Jews. He even tells us that the Christi ans who are making this deal are not as pious as Pharisees. And as an ex-Pharisee he has nothing but contempt for that position: 1t is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh that wou1d compe1 you to be circumcised, and only in order that they may not be persecuted for the cross of Christ. l!'0r even those who receive circumcision do not themseZves keep the Zaw, but they deslTe to have you circumcised that they may glory in your flesh (Galatians 6:12-13).
Paul's argument may seem to us, centuries after the fact, to be very subtle, but it may have been exceedingly clear to those living in the social situation he addresses. He says that ifyou want to be Jewish you have to go way beyond what the circumcisers are doing. Y ou need to become a Pharisee, as Paul himself was a Pharisee. Evidently, he sees the circumcisers in Galatia as promoting a kind of watered-down Judaism. They keep some of the laws but not others. And they do not practice the pieties of the Pharisees. For pharisaic Judaism and for Paul, the ex-Pharisee, this solution appears hypocritical. Like the later rabbis Paul also says that circumcision and pseudo-Judaism are not necessary for righteousness. But Paul' s message goes considerably beyond the issue of gentiles. Instead, Paul is primarily concerned with the process of transformation by faith that brings justification, a process which he sees to be universal, required for both Jewish and gentile converts to Christianity. Still, he has agreed that the feelings of Jewish Christians are to be considered in practical community. So even though gentile Christi ans have the freedom to eat anything and not to observe any of the festivals of Judaism, they should forbear where others may be offended by their behavior. Thus Paul's arguments do not burst through Jewish parochialism; they absolutely depend on knowing that he is relying on what the rabbis will call the "Noahide Commandments." Rather , he is fighting against both the conversion to Judaism model and the model of the resident sojourner, which apparently have been active in the early Christi an community, because they have been already active in Judaism. 1nstead he promulgates a new conception of conversion, which involves a spiritual metamorphosis. 32 But he is willing to accept some of the 32See Segal:117-149 for more detail.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 107 rules of the sojourner if that will achieve peace and unity within his community of Christians. Indeed, his usage merely gives us one more piece of evidence that Judaism contained such ideas, even before the redaction of the Mishnah. It seems fair to conclude that a significant part of the Christi an church continued to analyze the issue of the role of the gentiles in God's scheme in the traditional Jewish way. On the other hand, a new definition of the center of the community's definition - one that started in Paul's mystical visions and ended in a new definition of conversion - entailed a new approach to the problem of universalism as well. Following Paul's argument that inclusion in the community was by means of faith, everyone in the community, regardless of their J ewish or gentile identity, should be united by their faith. This eventually obviated the differences between gentile and J ew completely within the community and made moot the issue of righteous gentiles which remained central for Jews. But it did not appear in this particular form to Paul. Paul himself lived in a time when it was expected that anyone who joined the community might have to accommodate to the wishes of those who enforced the cultic and ritual distinctions of purity between Jews and gentiles. He advocated these compromises to insure Christi an unity, a policy that may or may not have succeeded in Paul's own day, while the competing definition of conversion to Judaism existed as a way of joining the Christian community. 1t was not until Paul's own experience of transformation was itself transformed into a conversion ritual especially for gentiles, a plan that sees its fruition most clearly in Luke and the Pastorals, that the vision of unity was complete. But the cost was that those without, those outside the community, were now considered to be in total darkness, as in the apocalyptic model. Paul's transformation process without adherence to the law becomes, after Luke, an engine for conversion but not a doctrine of the toleration of differences. The rabbinic movement, on the other hand, had an entirely different history to comprehend. They saw the destruction of the state and the continued dispersion of the J ewish community among the cities of the Hellenistic world. Proselytism to Judaism became a criminal act, though we can not be sure how often the pagan governments wished to enforce the law. After the Christianization of the Empire, enforcement became a great deal more stringent. For them, the concept of the righteous gentile became an attractive alternative to proselytism because it did not end anger the Jewish community .. Both Christi an and J ewish definitions of universalism were, in some sense, the product of the ideas of conversion that evolved within each community and the conflicts between them. There are at least two meanings of
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SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTIAN CONVERSION 109
the term universalism. One is that all will tum into a single truth (uni +versus) that holds throughout the cosmos. Even the apocalyptic lews believed this much. What distinguishes both rabbinie ludaism and early Christianity is that their minority social positions forced them to express their universalism in a temperate way. They tried to accommodate others to a certain extent (Meeks 1986:95-119; 1988:17-29; Engberg-Pedersen:679-89). Rabbinie ludaism admitted that righteous gentiles existed and that they were part of God's plan without conversion - a policy that was tailored to address the issue of God's plan for Israel in a way that allowed for the preservation of I ewish communities. Paul also counseled tolerance of positions that differed from bis own for the purposes of preserving Christian unity. Inherent in this complex development we can see two parallel developments taking place simultaneously: a new internal definition of what community membership means together with a new definition of outsiders and God's purposes for them. Paul begins the Christian search for a new definition of community, one that depends entirely on internal states, confirmed by baptism and the usual few membership requirements of Christianity, like the Lord' s Supper. In this environment and together with Paul' s teaching on lewish law, this becomes the definitive mark of salvation. Everyone else is to be considered outside and as a potential convert. Rabbinie ludaism instead develops a higher and higher system of ritual requirements. Conversion should consist of adecision to join a beleaguered minority together with the ritual requirements of that community. But that is not the same as the membership of the saved. Those who remain pagan but give up the immorality of pagan life should have all the benefits promised to Israel as weIl. In this way they preserved the concept of universalism but faced up to their historical role as a small people within a culturally plural world.
Works ConsuZted Beckford, James A. 1978 "Accounting for Conversion." British Journal Betz, Hans Dieter (ed.) 1986 The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation, Chicago: University of Chicago.
0/ Sociology 29:249-62.
Inclu~ing
the Demotic Spells.
Burchard, C. 1970 Der dreizehnte Zeuge: Traditions-und kompositionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Lukas' Darstellung der Frühzeit des PauZus. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht.
Callan, Terrance "Prophecy and Ecstasy in Greco-Roman Religion and in 1 Corinthians." 1985 NovT 27: 125-40. Charlesworth, J. H. 1987 "The Jewish Roots of Christology: The Discovery of the Hypostatic Voice." SJT39:19-41. Dahl, Nils A. 1941 Das Volk Gottes: Eine Untersuchung zum Kirchenbewusstsein des Urchristentums. Det Norske Videnskaps-Akademi i Oslo, II. Hist.-filos. Klasse, no. 2. Oslo: Jacob Dybwad. Reprinted Darmstadt: wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1963. Dunn, James D. G. 1975 Jesus and the Spirit: A Study o/the Religious and Charismatic Experience 0/ Jesus and the First Christians as Reflected in the New Testament. Philadelphia: W estminster. Engberg-Pedersen, Troels 1991 "1 Corinthians 11:16 and the Character of Pauline Exhortation." JBL 110: 679-89. Georgi, Dieter 1964 Die Gegner des Paulus im 2. Korinthbrief" Studien zur Religiösen Propaganda in der Spätantike. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirehen Verlag (also available: The Opponents 0/ Paul in Second Corinthians. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986). Hedrick, Charles W. 1981 "Paul's Conversion/Call: A Comparative Analysis of the Three Reports in Acts." JBL 100:415-32. Hick, John 1989
An Interpretation 0/ Religion: Human Responses to the Transcendant. New Haven: Yale University.
Hurd, John Coolidge J983 The Origin 0/1 Corinthians. Second edition. Macon, Ga.: Mercer University. Reprinted from London: SPCK, 1965. Juel, Donald 1987 Messianic Exegesis. Philadelphia: Fortress. Katz, Steven "Language, Epistemology, and Mysticism." pp. 22-74 in Mysticism and 1978 Philosophical Analysis. Ed. Steven Katz. New York: Oxford University. Kim, Seyoon The Origins 0/ Paul's Gospel. WUNT II, 4. Second edition. Tübingen: 1984 MohrlSiebeck. Koester, H. 1982 Introduction to the New Testament, Vo12. Philadelphia: Fortress Press.
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Lake, Kirsopp "The Apostolic Council of Jerusalern. " and "Paul's controversies." pp. 1966 195-211 and 212-23 in The Beginnings ofChristianity: The Acts ofthe Apostles, Vol 5: Additional Notes. Grand Rapids: Baker. Lohfink, Gerhard 1976 The Conversion of St. Paul. Chicago: Franciscan Herald. Meade, David G. 1986 Pseudonymity and Canon: An lnvestigation into the Relationship of Authorship and Authority in Jewish and Earliest Christian Tradition. Tübingen: MohrlSiebeck. Meeks, Wayne A. 1986 The Moral World ofthe First Christians. Philadelphia: Westminster. "The Polyphonie Ethics of the Apostle Paul." pp. 17-29 in The Annual of 1988 the Society ofChristian Ethics Ed. D. M. Yeager. Washington, D. C.: Georgetown University. Newman, Carey 1989 '''The Glory of God in the Face of Jesus': A Tradition-Historical Investigation to Paul's Doxa-Christology." Ph.D. dissertation, Baylor University. Novak, David 1983
The Image ofthe Non-Jew in Judaism: An Historical and Constructive Study ofthe Noahide Laws. Toronto: Edwin Mellen.
Quispel, Gilles forth. "Hermetism and the New Testament, Especially Paul." ANRWn, 22. Richardson, Peter 1969 Israel in the Apostolic Church. Cambridge: Cambridge University. Scholem, G. 1962
Von der mystischen Gestalt der Gottheit. Zurich: Rhein-Verlag.
Schulz, Siegfried 1958 "Die DECKE des Moses: Untersuchungen zu einer vorpaulinischen Überlieferung." ZNW 49:1-30. Segal, Alan F. 1990
Paul the Convert. New Haven: Yale University.
Snow, David and Richard Machalek 1983 "The Convert as a Social Type." pp. 259-89 in Sociological Theory 1983. Ed. R. Collins. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. 1984 "The Sociology of Conversion." Annual Review of Sociology 10:167-90. Staples, Clifford L. and Armand L. Mauss 1987 "Conversion or Commitment? A Reassessment of the Snow and Machalek Approach to the Study of Conversion." JSSR 26: 133-47.
SEGAL: PAUL AND THE BEGINNING OF CHRISTlAN CONVERSION 111 Steck, O. H. "Formgeschichtliche Bemerkungen zur Darstellung des Damaskusges1976 chehens in der Apostelgeschichte." ZNW 67:20-8. Tabor, James D. 1986 Things Unutterable: Paul's Ascent to Paradise in Its Greco-Roman, Judaic, and Early Christian Contexts. Lanham, MD: University Press of America. Taylor, Brian "Recollection and Membership: Converts' Talk and the Ratiocination of 1978 Commonality." Sociology 12:316-23. Wilson, Stephen 1974 The Gentiles and the Gentile Mission. Cambridge: Cambridge University. 1979 Luke and the Pastoral Epistles. London: SPCK. 1983 Luke and the Law. SNTSMS 50. Cambridge: Cambridge University. Wintermute, O. S. (trans.) "Jubilees. " pp. 35-142 in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, Vo12: 1983 Expansions ofthe "Old Testament" and Legends, Wisdom and Philosophical Literature , Prayers, Psalms, and Odes, Fragments of Lost JudeoHellenistic Wor/es. Ed. James H. Charlesworth. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Zaehner, R. C. 1969 Hinduism and Muslim Mysticism. New York: Schocken.
CHAPfER5 lESUS BEFORE CULTURE Graydon F. Snyder The Chicago Theological Seminary
Introduction
While most of the authors of the New Testament normally castigate those who do not understand the Gospel as they have presented it (Mark 4: 11-12; 8:33; 9:18-19; 1 Cor 2:14), there are a few instances where they protect or even praise those who have not necessarily understood. lohn 20:29. In the Gospel of John the term for appropriate perception is "to see" (normally opaw).l In the call of the disciples the four are invited to "come and see" (1 :39, 46). In that paradigmatic statement of the Johannine process the man born blind can see and then confess J esus as Lord and Son of Man (9:37-39). Indeed Jesus acknowledges the man's conversion by saying "you have seen hirn [the Son of man]" (9:37). At the end of the Gospel, per se, Thomas missed the first meeting of the disciples where they claimed to have "seen" the Lord (20:20, 25). Thomas does manage to make the second meeting where he too sees Jesus. John's Jesus ends the narrative with the rather incredible statement: "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe" (20:29). Given the interior logic of the Gospel of John, it must have been the narrator's blessing on those of the Johannine church who participate (adherents) but have not yet been able to "see."2 Matthew 25:31-46. In the Gospel of Matthew, the p..LKpoi are those who do not exhibit qualities of leadership or exhibit any power within the faith lSee, for example, the diseussion by Buhmann (72-75). 2While commentators generally agree that 20: 29 refers to later generations of Johannine Christians, most assume a literal meaning of opaw. Thomas be1ieved beeause he litera1ly saw the risen Lord. Aeeording to that perspeetive later generations will not have such a privilege. Bultmann (696), on the other hand, takes it as an ironie, if not sareastie comment about those who depend on eyewitness aecounts. See Snyder (1971) for the conflict between Johannine and Petrine (eyewitness) faith communities. I am assuming here that the "seeing" of 20:20, 26 does indeed refer to the development of faith in the Johannine sense. Thomas, otherwise an unperceptive adherent (11:16), also comes to faith through seeing, but many in the later church will be, like Thomas of chapter 11, faithful adherents who do not always "see" (e.g., the Samaritans hear, but do not see [4:42]).
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community. Such qualities of leadership are presumably held by the apostles and disciples. But in the so-called parable of the Last Judgment, Jesus praises those who feed, offer hospitaHty to, c1othe, and visit the Httle ones. Those who did such things were unaware of what they had done. They acted with compassion out of their own community formation, not out of ethical reflection or even intentional obedience. They were "spontaneous Christians" and are praised for that. Presumably they, too, belong to the community of the little people, the unreflective members of the faith community.3 1 Corinthians 3:1-3. Paul wished to address his readers as 7rP8VfJ-CXTLKOL, but they simply were not.at that stage of development. Meanwhile, since they are still infants he must address them as aapKLKOL. The conflict at Corinth in itself proves they are not ready for the solid food of adult adherents. Perhaps the same group comprises the weak of 8:7-13. While Paul may lament the weakness of some new converts, he does not excoriate them for their lack of perception. Rather he insists that the strong (intentional Christians) must not cause the weak (adherents) to stumble. 4 Ramsay MacMuIlen (5, 41) has insisted that among the new converts to Christianity during the first three centuries only a few came from among those intellectuals or leaders who might have given to us the literature of early Christianity. He rightly asks how the vast majority of early Christians made the shift from paganism to Christianity and under what circumstances that conversion occurred. MacMuIlen understands the problem weIl, but deals primarily with a Christianity which had already become a dominant culture. In addition to what he has suggested I would ask if we can trace popular conversion prior to the emergence of Christianity as the dominant culture. Indeed, the passages mentioned above indicate the problem of popular conversion already existed within the NT period. In order to explore the issue of Christian adherents prior to Constantine, I would suggest the following assertions: 3The least (eAaxW°'TOL) are to be identified with the little ones of Matthew (J.l.LKpoi, 11:11 and 10:42; 18:6, 10,14). The little ones ofMatthew participate in the formation of the new Christian ethos, but are not intentional about it. They are adherents and are to be protected (10:42). In the parable of the Last Judgment the acceptable actors are also adherents who relate to the "least of these my brothers and sisters" in a caring way. They are no more intentional than the J.l.LKPOL. The unacceptable actors are also adherents, but ones who have been formed by an uncaring or hostile (to the Matthean community?) faith community. Just as the acceptable actors are unaware of their appropriate behavior, they are unaware of their inappropriate behavior. Because formation is so important for the Matthean community there are severe warnings for anyone who causes a J.l.LKPC)(; or adherent to act without caring (18:6, 10). The J.l.LKPOI, are to be nurtured carefully in the Lord (18: 14). 4See Snyder (1992:233-34), for the argument that the weak are those whose conversion °and subsequent formation have not yet made them mature.
SNYDER: JESUS BEFORE CULWRE 115 (1) A non-literary definition of culture requires that symbols common to the nascent culture can be found in multiple sites. This first occurred for Christianity toward the end of the second century. (2) In order to be a culture (or viable social matrix) the following elements must be satisfied: (a) a family order (b) a community order (c) a strong moral authority (d) celebrations of life events (e) an attachment to land (3) The pre-cultural Jesus tradition deals with these five components of a culture, but in a counter-culture mode. (4) Non-literary sources for a nascent Christian culture, which appear first in 180 CE, reflect the same elements as found in the pre-cultural Jesus tradition. (5) Conversion of the mass of first Christi ans occurred in the context of these continuing pre-culture Jesus traditions. (6) Non-literary sources of a post-cultural nature do reflect an increase in. magic and patronage, but not violence. (7) Our canon of the New Testament reflects primarily the process of the pre-cultural Jesus tradition creating a new "Christian" culture within the social matrix of the Mediterranean world. °
Culture Culture may be defined as a social network for dealing with common structural realities (Geertz:89), or in a more archaeological way as occupants of archaeological sites with like artifacts (Trigger; Childe:vi). In either case one cauld safely say there were no observable signs of a Christi an culture much before 180 CE. At that time artistic symbols begin to appear in ways which could be (sometimes had to be) interpreted as Christian. These symbols are faund in several places in the Mediterranean world (Snyder 1985:3, 13-29). Prior to 180 CE the actions and beliefs. of the first Christi ans were expressed in Jewish or other Mediterranean cultural systems. Research into popular Christianity indicates that J ewish cultural influence was minimal. In the first century and a half Christianity was expressed almost totally in terms of the general Mediterranean society. Eventually some of these Mediterranean symbols had to be altered for the new Christian culture to arise. Much of early Christi an conversion had to occur as these alterations were taking place.
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0/ a Social Matrix
Recent efforts to analyze the relationship of a faith to culture, from a sociological perspective, find a constant dialectical relationship between the power of the faith and the form of the culture (Thouless). The characteristics of a social matrix (Little Community) normally follow certain set lines, but the actual visible form will be determined by an inter action with a religious tradition (Great Tradition).5 Characteristics of any social matrix will be as foHows: 1) a cohesive extended family; 2) a strong sense of local community; 3) a strong, authoritative leadership; 4) a strong tradition for the celebration of natural, communal and personal events; 5) a elose relationship to nature or land. According to such studies a religious faith can influence and alter these elements of the social matrix, but cannot eliminate them. Likewise the social matrix may influence and alter the religious faith, but it cannot make a social matrix of it. 6 For example, some forms of early Christian gnosticism attempted to disparage the family, and some attempted to separate the religious actor from this material world. Such forms of gnosticism have long since disappeared in favor of the needs of the social matrix (Pagels:40-47). Is there any way to move direct1y from the origins of the Christian faith to cultures not directly connected with Western history? Could we start within the New Testament itself? Certainly this raises the troubling question: Was our present NT canon formed for use within a specific culture? The answer must be in the affirmative. No literature exists without a cultural context. Consequently, in order to bring the Christian faith anew to non. European cultures, we must either peel off adaptations made for the Mediterranean society and/or determine in some way what the pre-culture tradition would look like and ask how that tradition would be adapted to cultures other than first century Mediterranean. Itumeleng Mosala (173-89) has proposed that the present NT was formed by Christi an communities at times when they had already adapted to a "middle elass" virtue system. To retrieve the NT for the oppressed, he pro5Redfield 1955:33-52; 1956. Although Redfield dealt primarily with rural or peasant societies, further studies by advocates of the Redfield grid indicate a similar patte~ in towns and villages. In his oft-quoted introduction to the work of Horace Mmer (1939:xiü-xix) on St. Denis in Quebec, Redfield speils ou~. quite cle~ly.. ~e nature of peasant society. But in later responses Miner (1963:v-vu; 1965:Xll-X1ll) m~es the qualities of peasant life more the qualities of all human community. .The break wlth Redfield becomes even more clear with Milton Singer (1972) who wntes a chapter on the urbanization of the Great Tradition in Hindu tradition (see chapter 5). 6Sp iro (1970:5, 14) and even more clearly in his preface to the second edition (1982:xviii-xix).
SNYDER: JESUS BEFORE CULTURE 117 posed using the tools of biblical criticism to retrieve a New Testament which existed earlier than our present canon. When students from other cultures for example, reflect on this proposal they often say that Jesus was a Jew, bu~ Jesus Christ (the resurrected Lord) belongs sui generis to their culture. Sometimes, but not always, they can demonstrate their point with art: Jesus has been portrayed as J ew , but the resurrection stories show J esus as Taiwanese, or Japanese, or Korean, or African. Their distinction between Jesus and Jesus the Christ certainly marks a frequently used, possible point of departure. That is, Jesus was historical, but faith in Jesus must be extrahistorical (historical, but more than historical). That which is historical belongs to a certain culture at a certain time (Jewish), but that which is extrahistorical belongs to whatever culture in which it becomes effective.
Pre-cultural J esus Tradition The attempt to distill from tradition the essence of Christianity is of course nothing new. In his famous What is Christianity?, Adolf Harn~ck tried t~ define Christianity as the "fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man" (1901:51, 63, 299). It has been generaHy agreed that Christianity cannot be reduced to a set of principles which, when expressed in any given culture, would constitute a legitimate expression of the Christian faith. Still, we are plagued by the possibility (necessity?) that the J esus tradition could be an operative force in relation to any social matrix rather than simply the canonical expression of one culture (the Mediterranean) which by nature of its primacy must be accepted as authoritative by any other culture. Indeed Rudolf Bultmann, in his remarkable introduction to the latest English edition of What is Christianity?, insists that we are not finished with Harnack. He will yet again have his day. Bultmann may have been correct (Harnack 1957:viii). What is that Christianity which stands in dial~ctical tension with any social matrix? With some degree of assurance the J esus tradition can be ascertained. While one would not elaim to know the very words or actions which came from Jesus, one can monitor the process by which the tradition became acculturated. Within certain limitations the scholar can reverse that process in such a way that some approximation of the J esus tradition can be determined. Dominic Crossan (xxvii-xxxiv) has recently attempted to establish the primary levels of the J esus tradition by sorting the material into the various levels in which the story or words first appear as weH as the frequency with which the story or saying appears: Using this test of chronological multiple
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attestation, what can we learn about the J esus tradition and the Palestinian social matrix?
Family Cohesion The Jesus tradition comes to us with a mixed message. The statement on marriage and divorce is one of the best attested sayings of Jesus (1 Cor 7:10-11; Luke 16:18 = Matt 5:31-32; Mark 10:10-12 = Matt 19:9; Herrn. Man. 4.1: 6b, 10). In contrast with contemporary J ewish custom, the ear liest Jesus tradition did not countenance divorce. At its earliest (prior to 55 CE?) level the tradition of no divorce probably reflected a sexual reality (the two shall become one flesh) more than a legal demand for the new community. But by the turn of the century the Q form of the saying was already used as a legal guide for the developing Christi an social matrix (Matt 5:31-32; "except for 7rOpVeLCX"). On the other hand, the sayings on hating one' s family (Gos. Thom. 55:1-2a; 101; Luke 14:25-26 = Matt 10:37) and on the true family of Jesus (Gos. Thom. 99; Mark 3:19b-21, 31-35 = Matt 12:46-50 = Luke 8:19-21; 2 Clem. 9:11; Gos. Eh. 5) also have early and multiple attestations. Over against Judaism, in a type of cultural deviance (Saldarini 52), the Jesus tradition stressed the unity of the family, but at the same time called for strong end-time individuation. Perhaps it was this strong sense of individuation which forced Paul (1 Cor 7: 9) and later the community of Matthew (Matt 19:11-12) to concede the appropriateness of a remarriage, though we may have in these two passages the first signs of a powerful J esus tradition being accommodated to the, needs of the social matrix.
SNYDER: JESUS BEFORE CULTURE 119 The spread of the new faith depended on the development of a universal community and the destruction of class or other artificial distinctions. The' universality of the actions and message of Jesus placed the new faith in tension with the social matrix and maintained itself by means of a powerful vision of the future (eschatology). Jesus instructed his disciples to build community by developing habits of mutuality. In the highly attested sending tradition (1 Cor 9:14; 10:27; Gos. Thom. 14:2; Luke 10:1, 4-11 = Matt 10:7, lOb, 12-14; Mark 6:7-13 = .Matt 10:1, 8-10a, 11 = Luke 9:1-6; Did. 11-13; 1 Tim 5:18b) disciples and missioners are advised to stay from place to place in mutual support. Equally attested "Ask, Seek and Knock" (starting with Gos. Thom. 2) urges disciples to ask for what they want because it will be granted. Primary examples of sharing with the community, such as the feeding of the 5,000, also come from early multiple attestation (1 Cor 15:6; John 6:1-15; Mark 6:33-44 = Matt 9:36; 14:13b-21 = Luke 9:11-17; Mark 8:1-10 = Matt 15:32-39; Luke 24:13-33, 35; 24:41-43; John 21:9, 12-13). Healing the sick and eating with others occur early and often.7 One could conclude that the Jesus tradition at its earliest level consisted of: 1) healings of persons regardless of their status as clean or unclean; 2) universal commensality regardless of class distinctions; 3) development of community through mutuality; 4) a constant tension with the social matrix (as seen in Jesus' crucifixion by the social matrix; and in his constant use of apocalyptic revers al [the beatitudes, for example)); 5) subversion of political !imitations (as seen in his sending of the disciples to create inclusivity [starting with 1 Cor 9:14; see above],8 and in his apocalyptic vision of a universal community [Po Oxy. 1224, 2 v i, lines 1-5; 1Q: Luke 6:27-28, 35a = Matt 5:43-44; Pol. Phil. 12:3a; Did. 11:3b)).9
Community Authority One can see early Jesus traditions, such as healing, used by the later church to stress the forgiveness of sin (Mark 2:1-12; 2:5b-10 has been inserted by the later community to stress the necessity of divine forgiveness [Hendrickx:118-121)) or the function of service (Mark 1:30-31; 1:31 has been added to emphasize OLCXKOV[CX [Hendrickx:69)). It would seem probable that according to the original tradition Jesus was obliterating the distinction between clean and unclean. By healing and casting out demons he broke those boundaries which the social matrix had built up. Indeed, . he reestablished human community in a way which stood in tension with the temple and normative class systems. Jesus also ate with all levels of society. In the mission of the twelve (Mark 6:6b-13) he instructed his disciples to eat with all and to heal the sick.
As indicated in the discussion of community, the over against nature of the Jesus tradition placed the first believers in conflict with accepted authorities. While on the one hand, the Davidic descent of Jesus was affirmed early and often (Rom 1:3; 2 Tim 2:8; Matt 2:1-12; Luke 2:1-20; John 7:41-42; Ign. Smym. 1:1a; Ign. Eph. 18:2c; Ign. TraU. 9:la), the Jesus tradition broke clearly with prescribed authorities regarding such cultural components as 353.
7Data taken from Cross an (434-44). Cf. the discussion on healing and eating 303-
8Mack (113) puts inc1usivity at the earliest level of Q. See his QS 20 (Mack: 87). 9Mack (121, 127-8) sees egalitarian social fonnation at the heart of the earliest stage of Q tradition. See his QS 9 (Mack:83-84).
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dietary laws (clean and unclean, Gos. Thom. 14:3; Mark 7:14-15; Matt 15:10-11; Acts 10:14b; Acts 11:8b); me ans of forgiving sins (Gos. Thom. 44; Luke 12:10 = Matt 12:32a; Mark 3:28-30 = Matt 12:31, 32b; Did. 11:7); the authority of scripture (Gos. Thom. 52; Eger. Gos. 1 [5-23]; John 5:39-47; 9:29); and the power of the temple (Gos. Thom. 71; Mark 14:55-59 = Matt 26:59-61; Mark 15:29-32a = Matt 27:39-43 = Luke 23:35-37; Acts 16:11-14; John 2:18-22). The apocalypticism of the Jesus tradition (1 Th 4:13-18; Did. 16:6-8; Matt 24:30a; Mark 13:24-27 = Matt 24:29, 30b31 = Luke 21 :25-28; Rev 1:7, 13; 14: 14; John 19:37) kept the emerging faith community in tension with the old age and its authorities (1 Cor 6:1-6).
Life Celebrations Though many of the parables speak of feasts, weddings, and other celebrations, there is little in the early Jesus tradition regarding the significance of life celebrations and annual ceremonies. Even the Sabbath controversies lack major attestation in the earliest traditions. More to the point, perhaps, is the early Eucharist tradition (1 Cor 10: 14-22; 11 :23-25; Mark 14:22-25 = Matt 26:26-29 = Luke 22:15-19a [l9b-20]; Did 9:1-4; John 6:51b-58) which retlects the Passover celebration. In short the earliest Jesus tradition offers no celebrative events except for the resignification of the Passover meal as a deliverance event.
The Land Most of the NT shows little interest in the land. The end time of Christianity points toward a city (Heb 13: 14; Rev 21 :2). Jesus tells parables involving the land, and some early Christians took the land in some parables as a reference to Israel (Mark 12:1-12). Otherwise the Jesus tradition gives no value to the land. To be sure there are narratives which indicate Jesus was attached to the land as Israel (Syrophoenician woman [Mark 7:24-30 = Matt 15:21-28] and Gerasene demoniac [Mark 5:17-20 = Matt 8:34 = Luke 8:37-39]), but these are not necessarily from the earliest tradition - Crossan, for example, places both miracles in the second stratum (461).
Early Christian Cultural Symbols As indicated in the beginning, the~e is within the NT itself a concern for those persons converted to Christianity who do not share the faith perspective of the author or red ac tor . Fur.thermore, one can see in the NT the continuing
SNYDER: JESUS BEFORE CULTURE 121 adaptation of the pre-cultural Jesus tradition to the social matrix. Such adaptation occurred in the interest of "rnass" conversion. For example, Pauline Christianity is adapted to the social matrix by means of the Pastoral Epistles, and Johannine Christianity is adapted by me ans of the J ohannine Epistles (Houlden:18). One can see in these adaptations the movement of the religious faith toward the characteristics of a social matrix, such as the importance of family (1 Tim. 3:4-5; 4:3), the unity of the faith community (1 Tim. 6:3; 1 John 3:15-17), or the goodness ofthe land (1 Tim. 4:3-5; 5:23). Another method of assessing the nature of early folk Christianity is to ex amine Christian culture when it did finally appear. About 180 CE several symbols appeared which, because of the context, have to be understood as Christian. Shortly afterward pictures appeared which either utilized those symbols or should be understood as references to biblical narratives. In terms of artistic symbols, the first Christi an culture used the lamb, anchor, vase, dove, boat, olive branch, orante or praying figure, palm, bread, good shepherd, fish, and vine and grapes (Bruun:73-166). All of these independent symbols had a pre-Christian history . The first Christians did not offer substitute symbols (it had none!), but so utilized these that later they in some way came to represent the nascent Christi an faith. One might say these symbols from the Mediterranean world were "infected" by a Christian virus and in that way were altered. The pre-cultural Jesus traditions we have noted were significantly present in these first sets of symbols. Commensality was expressed by bread, fish, vase, vine and grapes, and possibly the good shepherd. Eating together was particularly shown in the frequent picture of Christi ans eating the Agape meal as a meal with the dead. Healing was expressed by the community peace symbols: the dove and the olive branch (and eventually the orante). Tension with the dominant culture was expressed by the boat, the anchor, and likely the fish (assuming water symbolized the dominant social matrix). And the hope for good life was expressed by the tree. When the symbols became pictorial,lO especially as related to biblical stories, nearly all the Old Testament pictures portrayed an orante caught in a difficult situation; yet delivered by a person of God, or a divine act. One thinks of Noah and the Ark, Moses and the Rock, Daniel Between Two Lions, Three Young Men in the Fiery Furnace, and Susanna and the Elders as deliverance from difficult political or social situations. The very popular Jonah and the Sea Monster probably stressed mission toward the alien social
lOPor descriptions and/or photographs of symbols and pietures, see G. P. Snyder (1985). Pictorial representations have been cross-referenced with Nestori and Priedrich W. Deichmann, G. Bovini and H. Brandenburg.
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matrix. In New Testament pictorial episodes there is more an emphasis on healing itself. One finds the Healing of the Paralytic, the Resurrecti~n ~f Lazarus and the Healing of a Blind Boy. In pictorial art commensahty IS express~d by frequent portrayals of the Eucharist (bread, fish, and wine) as weIl as very frequent portrayals of an Agape meal (baskets of loaves [seven or twelve], fish, and wine - much like the Feeding of the Five ~ou~and). In most cases the Agape meal has been expanded to inc1ude the slgmficant dead. For example, one early meal shows the honored guest in a pose precis~ly like Endymion, a dead ~ero on Roman sarcophagi. l l Mutuality is expressed by that powerful, frequent symbol of the early church, the Good Shepherd. In context it represents the hospi~ality offered by the community to individuals apparently alienated by the dommant culture. There is very little in early Christian art to indicate the locus of authority. The formation of the so-called Crypt of the Popes in St. Callistus may be 'the first archaeological evidence for an authority issue. In regard to land, only the paradisical Orpheus scenes with its tree would indicate the urban yearning for land. 12 According to early Christian art celebration of life events and the cyc1e of nature increased dramaticaIly. We have already noted the celebration of the Eucharist and the Agape meal, particularly as associated with the meal for the dead. In contrast to the Jesus tradition, baptism also plays a heavy role. The very earliest art portrays the young man Jesus being baptized by an old man (river God), with a dove descending from above. In regard to natural cyc1es, apparently both Judaism and Christianity fought the social matrix over the winter solstice. The nearly universal celebration of the winter solstice eventually forced Christianity to adapt traditions around, and a date for, the birth of J esus as a means of displacing competitive religious systems (in this case nataZis soZis invieti). The first intimations of such a struggle can be found in the only certain pre-Constantinian mosaic - the beautiful Christ Helios in mausoleum M under St. Peter's. Probably the contemporary emphasis on the ascension of Elijah was another attempt to displace the all pervasive sun chariot (Snyder 1985:62-63).
llSnyder (1985:64), Plate #33, (Museo Pio cristiano, #123). In a fresco from the hypogeum of Vibia the dead person (Vibia) is being led to her proper place at the table! . See Stevenson (120). 12S ny der (1985:21). It may be that the enigmatic Adam and Eve plctures al~o rep~esent the yearning for nature and the land. The thesis has been proposed by L. TroJe and by Sigrid Esche (30-32).
SNYDER: JESUS BEFORE CULTURE 123 Pre-eulture Conversion At first, at least, the early church did universalize its community. Not only was family extended, but community boundaries were consistently broken. In that sense Christianity continued an eschatological pressure on the social matrix. For example, slaves who had been freed normally were buried with the name of their prior OWner attached to their slave name. In that way we know they once had been slaves. When the Christian culture appeared, and Christiangraves could be identified, there was practically no mention of prior slavery (Snyder 1985:122). The amazing growth of the Christi an community during the pre-Constantinian period reflected the original J esus tradition and its concern for a universal community without c1ass boundaries (Suolahti: 170).
Post-eultural Conversion After the peace of the church, that is, the conversion of Constantine, the art of the early church shifted more to propaganda and heuristic illustration. If the art then still represented the folk rather than the state or the church hierarchy (and that is questionable), then we might see signs of the conversionary conflict between the emerging Christi an culture and the decaying hellenistic culture. MacMullen suggested three major ways in which such mass conversion occur~ed, that is, the me ans of conversion after Christianity had sufficient power to negotiate or enforce acceptance of its own culture: Magie According to MacMullen (59-67), Christianity competed with other religions in terms of healing mirac1es and the general ability to manipulate divine powers. After Constantine scenes and symbols of deliverance began to wane and more scenes of healing mirac1es appeared. 13 l3Even before Constantine New Testament scenes centered on the mirac1es of Jesus. There was in the Jesus tradition a five-fold mirac1e catena. Making the blind see and the lame walk was a way of proc1aiming the advent of the end time (lsaiah 35:5-6a); the raising of Lazarus announced the newage; multiplication of the loaves and fishes pointed to the formation of the new community; and the water mirac1e (stilling of the storm or walking on water) indicated tension with the Mediterranean social matrix (on the catena see Crossan:311). The same five narratives are the primary New Testament pictorial representations in pre-Constantine Christianity (see chart in Snyder 1985:43). A study of popular early Christian mirac1e lists shows a constant focus on these same five narratives as weIl as frequent mention of the other gospel mirac1es (Hills:40-44). While hard comparative data would be impossible to obtain the observer easily notes in Christian art an
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Patronage People converted to Christianity because the system of gaining favors fell into Christian hands (MacMullen:43-58). Probably the Chi-Rho would be the most obvious indication that being a Christian would be advantageous financially, vocationally, and socially (Danker:27). At the same time, portraits of patrons began to appear in pictorial art. One thinks of the Arch of Constantine in Rome, the portraits seen in the frescoes of the Constantinian palace at Trier, and Constantinian medals with the Chi-Rho in the labarum (Grabar:38-46). At the same time, the figure of Jesus shifted from a youthful wonder worker to Christ in Majesty or even cosmocrator - a Jesus who could use his power for social benefit (more than deliverance!).14
Coercion While MacMullen (86-101) correctly cites the literature for examples of the use of violent force as a means of conversion, there is no sign of this in the art. To the contrary, pictures of Christi an martyrs continue through the period when martyrs would have no longer been politically likely (Brown: 101-102). Imperial military personnel appear in martyr scenes and in Passion scenes. Military scenes are used primarily to illustrate scenes from the Hebrew Scriptures - most notably the frescoes of S. Maria Maggiore in Rome (Grabar:48-49) As a parallel, analogous observation it is worthy of note that Emefie Ikenga-Metuh (11-27) describes four means by which Africa converted to Christianity: 1) the shattered microcosm; 2) intellectualism; 3) historical adhesion; and 4) deprivation. Generally speaking, these factors stress more the failure of the prior culture, much like Gager's cognitive dissonance (4849). The theory of a shattered microcosm stresses the failure o~ the old culture. The theory of deprivation is a social theory which matches somewhat MacMullen's patronage - that is, Christianity would deliver more than the prior religion. Under historical adhesion Ikenga-Metuh notes simply that the changes brought about by the First W orld made necessary a shift in African religion. The mass of people did not really convert, but simply adhered to the new direction pressed upon them (this may well explain the present popularity of a non-Western independent Christianity in Africa). In any case, these methods of conversion are obtained only after Christianity has become a culture .and that culture can be advanced by direct or subtle me ans . increasing interest in the power and divinity of Jesus (Grabar:12). ·14See the developmental outline in Snyder (56), taken primarily from Friedrich Gerke.
SNYDER: JESUS BEFORE CULTURE 125 Post-culture Christianity and the Canon Christianity took on a particular cultural form based on a symbol system rooted in the Mediterranean traditions of the first four centuries of our era. Much of that earliest Christi an culture was true to the original pre-cultural Jesus tradition. But canonical development in the Mediterranean world was not historically necessary. The earliest Jesus tradition could have moved more universally into Egypt and Africa. Then Europe eventually would have been "invaded" by an African cultural Christianity! Is it possible to repeat the assimilation process in cultures without going through the Mediterranean original? It seems there is a possibility that Christi an missions could advance in this way and a Christianity produced which had none of the Mediterranean characteristics except for its preservation of the pre-cultural impulse (the Jesus tradition). Indeed, in the early centuries the Christi an faith did enter eultures which were not to be classified as Mediterranean, and such cultures do differ from the Roman adaptation. One thinks particularly of the Phrygian, Syriac, and Celtic. The canon of the Roman church ought not be jettisoned. It indicates how the variety of faith express ions can be united under one catholic church. If there is to be a large variety of Christi an cultures the canon will be a necessary guide to the formation of a universal community. Furthermore the eanon demonstrates how the pre-cultural faith had related to one specific area '- the Mediterranean. Nevertheless, the canon not only has horizontal breadth, it also has vertical depth. There are communities below the level of eanon. There is also a pre-cultural community. It can be found in our present canon. Marcion attempted to isolate that earlier level with his attenuated eanon. He failed and was declared heretical by the nascent Roman cultural ehurch. Despite that threat, it seems to me that Christi ans of a nonMediterranean culture have every right to seek the pre-cultural Jesus tradition and its early community, and to use that as a guide/critique of their own culture. That pre-culture Jesus tradition stands in dialectical relationship to any new social matrix. It cannot be totally assimilated by any other culture without destroying itself. The present canon shows that tension with both the Jewish and Mediterranean cultures. Any new adaptive canon would do the same.
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RECRU1TMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Works Consulted
Brown, Peter 1981 The Cult ofthe Saints. Chicago: University of Chicago. Bruun, Patrick d 1963 "Symboles, signes et monogrammes." Acta instituti Romani Finlan iae. 1:2:73-166. Bultmann, Rudolf 1971 The Gospel of lohn: A Commentary. Philadelphia: Westminster. Childe, Vere Gordon 1929 The Danube in Prehistory. Oxford: Clarendon. Crossan, John Dominic 1991 The Historical lesus: The Life of a Mediterranean lewish Peasant. San Francisco: Harper. Danker, Frederick 1982 Benefactor: Epigraphic Study of a Grceco-Roman and New Testament Semantic Field. St. Louis: Clayton. Deichmann, Friedrich W., G. Bovini and H. Brandenburg 1967 Repertorium der christlich-antiken Sarkophage. Wiesbaden: Steiner Verlag.
Hills, Julian 1990
Tradition and Composition in the Epistula Apostolorum. Minneapolis: Fortress.
Houlden, J. L. 1973 A Commentary on the lohannine Epistles. New York: Harper & Row. Ikenga-Metuh, Emefie 1987 "The Shattered Microcosm: A Critical Survey of Explanations of Conversion in Africa." pp. 11-27 in Religion, Development and African Identity. Seminar proceedings from the Scandinavian Institute of African Studies 17. Ed. Kirsten Holst Petersen. Uppsala: Scandinavian Institute of African Studies. Mack, Burton L. 1993 The Lost Gospel: The Book ofQ and Christian Origins. New York: Harper Collins. Macmullen, Ramsay 1984 Christianizing the Roman Empire (A.D. 100-400). New Haven: Yale University . Miner, Horace 1939 St. Denis. Chicago: University of Chicago. 1963 St. Denis. Chicago: University of Chicago. 1965 The Primitive City ofTimbuctoo. Garden City, NY: Doubleday and Co.
Esche, Sigrid 1957 Adam und Eva. Düsse1dorf: Schwann.
Mosala, Itumeleng 1989 Biblical Hermeneutics and Black Theology in South Africa. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.
Gager, John G. 'h . . . 1975 Kingdom and Community: The Sodal World of Early C nsnamty. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall.
Nestori, Aldo 1975 Repertorio topograjico delle pitture delle catacombe Romane. Cittä. deI Vaticano: Pontificio Istituto di archeologia cristiana.
Geertz, Clifford 1973 The Interpretation of Cultures. Selected Essays. New York: Basic Books.
Pagels, Elaine 1979 The Gnostic Gospels. New York: Random House.
Gerke, Friedrich 1948 Christus in der spätantiken Plastik. Mainz: Florian Kupferberg Verlag.
Redfield, Robert 1955 The Little Community. Chicago: University of Chicago. 1956 Peasant Sodety and Culture. Chicago: University of Chicago.
Grabar, Andre 1968 Christian Iconography: A Study of Its Origins. Princeton: Princeton U niversity . von Harnack, Adolf 1901 What is Christianity? New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons. 1957 What is Christianity? New York: Harper Torchbook. Hendrickx, Herman 1987 The Miracle Stories ofthe Synoptic Gospels. San Francisco: Harper & Row.
Saldarini, Anthony 1. 1991 "The Gospel of Matthew and the Jewish-Christian Conflict." pp. 38-61 in Sodal History ofthe Matthean Community: Cross-Disdplinary Approaches. Ed. David L. Balch. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress. Singer, Milton 1972 When a Great Tradition Modemizes. New York: Praeger.
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Snyder, Graydon F. 1971 "John 3:16 and the Anti-Petrinism of the Johannine Tradition." Biblical Research 6:5-15. 1985 Ante Pacem. Macon, GA: Mercer University. 1992 First Corinthians. Macon, GA: Mercer University. Spiro, Melford E. 1971 Buddhism and Society. London: Allen and Unwin. 1982 Buddhism and Society. Berkeley: University of Califomia. Stevenson, James 1978 The Catacombs: Life and Death in Early Christianity. London: Thames and Hudson. Suolahti, Jaako 1963 "Position Sodale." Acta instituti Romani Finlandiae. 1:2:167-77. Thouless, Robert 1940 Conventionalization and Assimilation in Religious Movements as Problems in Social Psychology. Oxford: Oxford University. Trigger, Bruce G. 1980 Gordon Childe: Revolutions in Archaeology. New York: Columbia U niversity. Troje, L. 1916
ADAM und ZWH. Sitzungberichte Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaft. Phil.-hist. Klasse.
CHAPfER6 CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE Richard Horsley University 0/ Massachusetts
Introduction Both Judaism and Christianity have roots in Galilee. Historians of Christian and Jewish origins, however, are experiencing increasing doubts that the fundamental concepts on which most of the remainder of their conceptual apparatus rest are rooted in historical reality. According to the standard (Christian) scholarly scheme, Jesus was "Jewish" and called "Jewish" followers, who then founded "early Christianity" as a movement within "Judaism" alongside other "sects" such as the Pharisees, which constituted the principal competition; once the mission spread to the Gentiles, early Christianity increasingly diverged and eventually broke away from its parent religion of Judaism. However one construes the particulars of the early formation of Christianity, this standard scholarly scheme places a great deal of weight on its know ledge of "Judaism. " In the last generation we have come to realize that what we have had in mind when referring to "Judaism" did not yet exist until well after the time of Jesus and the earliest "churches" (e.g., Neusner 1966; Cohen 1987). Rabbinic Judaism, whose literary expressions scholars had in mind when speaking of "Judaism," could not be said even to have begun taking form until at least two generations after Jesus. Moreover, it turns out that we have precious little evidence about the Pharisees, who we have been assuming were the predecessors of the rabbis (Neusner 1973; Saldarini 1988). Discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls has revealed just how diverse movements among the Judean literate elite were during late second-te.Q1ple times. But all together the high priests/Sadducees, Pharisees, and Qumranites/Essenes comprised only a tiny fraction of the population of ancient Jewish Palestine. The limited information available on the occasional mbvements among the ordinary people indicates that they were very different in orientation and agenda from the literate Jewish groups such as Pharisees and Essenes (Horsley 1984; 1985; 1987). We are only beginning to take a criticallook at Galilee in par-
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HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL C0ItFLICT IN GALILEE 131
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
ticular, the locus of J esus' ministry and of the formative rabbinie activity some generations later. " . The recent retreat by many in the field to the concept of formatIve Judaism" is both an admission that what we had been thinking of as "Judaism" was still in the process of formation and an assumption that there is some sort of continuity between what emerged as rabbinie Judaism and at least some of what went before. That assumption of continuity enables us to continue speaking of the central importance of the academy at Yavneh, of the rabbis having been placed in charge of Jewish society by ~e .Romans after the destruction oi the Temple, and of the Pharisees as the predecessors of the rabbis. We write confidently of "sectarian Judaism" existing centuries be fore the appearance of any "parent body" of Judaism from which sects might have separated (Cohen 1987). We assurne that at the time of Jesus Galilee was inhabited by Jews who acknowledged both the Temple and the Torah as the media of redemption (Freyne 1980). And we assurne the existence of Jewish synagogues in Galilee in which the Pharisees were the leaders (K~e). . . Most of these assumptions are simply unwarranted by any hIstone al eVIdence. There is no evidence that the Romans ever placed the Pharisees and/or proto-rabbis in charge of Jewish Palestine (Lev~ne 1979). Th~ rabbinic stories on which we have been basing the foundation and authonty of the rabbinie academy at Yavneh turn out to be variations on a foundational legend and not reports with any particular historical veracity, as two independent investigations have demonstrated (Saldarini 1975; Schaefer). By_ their own repeated admissions, the rabbis had very little influence let alone serious authority among the people in Galilee in the second century CE (Goodman 1983). What influence they had gained by the third century. was apparently based in the fact that some of their number became dommant socially and economically in Galilee (Levine 1989; Cohen 1992). The same Mishnaic literature that indicates that the rabbis had little influence among the people in the second century also indicates that there we.re nume~ous loc~ variations in customs and observances. Further , the earhest conslstent eVIdence for synagogues as religious buildings in Galilean towns and villages is dated to the second century or later (Kee; FIesher). It seems more likely that what the synoptic gospel traditions refer to as aUJlCi.'YW"fTJ was, just like what the Mishnah refers to as aknesset, a local (village or town) assembly concerned with community affairs of all sorts, not simply religious observances. 1
IThe functions of the leaders of the knesset mentioned in the Mishnah are similar to those of localleaders in the Hauran just to the east of Galilee (Harper).
The Conquest and "Judaization"
0/ Galilee
It appears that we do not know that much about what became "Judaism" in
I I
I
I
i ii !
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Galilee until nearly the third century CE. This realization should lead us to ex amine with new eyes the (lack of) evidence for what Galileans were thinking and doing before, during, and after the time of Jesus as wen as many of the standard generalizations we rely upon in our scholarly investigations, particularly the extent to which Galilee was "Judaized." It seems obvious that the history of Galilee should be reexamined. The explorations that follow will be rudimentary at best. In order to sharpen the issues and invite serious re-thinking, let me state at the outset the conc1usion to which the explorations below seem to lead: The Judaization 0/ Galilee was the result 0/ aseries 0/ conquests and involved long periods 0/ social conjlict. This thesis can be broken down somewhat in terms of historical phases. From ancient times the Galileans would have shared a common ancient Israelite heritage with Judeans (and Samaritans). But after the heavy demands of Solomon the ten northern tribes of Israel rebeIled against Jerusalern rule. Then the descendants of those northern tribes lived under different imperial provincial jurisdiction for over 700 years. Thus the crucial event that began' the actual Judaization of Galilee must have been the Hasmonean conquest of the area, apparently under Aristobulus in 104 BCE. The Roman conquest and reconquest of Palestine in the first century BCE and their reliance on Herodians as weIl as on the J erusalem high priestly families as c1ient rulers created further complications in Galilee's "Judaization." Beginning with the frequent changes of dient rulers in mid-first century CE and intensified in the aftermath of the Roman reconquest in 67, Galilee apparently experienced several decades of political vacuum. The J erusalem authorities may wen have attempted to expand their influence in the midst of this political vacuum. But it was apparently not until weIl after the Roman reco:Q.quest of Palestine in 67-70, indeed apparently not until after the Bar Kochba Revolt, that the (proto-)rabbis focused their attention on Galilee and acquired some influence among the Galilean people for what became Rabbinic Judaism. The obvious implications for "Christian origins" are that we can no longer use "Judaism" in Galilee as a foil for Jesus' ministry. Nor can we view the Pharisees (especially not as based in the synagogues) as another Jewish "sect" competing for influence with Jesus' followers in Galilee. It will facilitate reexamination to keep the old concept of "Judaism" out of our minds while surveying the history of Galilee. 2 2In an attempt to maintain critical awareness of the ambiguity of the modem English
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The Hasmonean Conquest o[ Galilee Freyne simply assumes, and states repeatedly, that Jerusalem was the "cultural and culticcenter" (or matrix) of Galilee, which was eagerly awaiting the opportune moment to be reunited politically in Hasmonean times (Freyne 1980:38, etc). Both during the centuries before the Hasmoneans and after their demise, he claims, Galileans were loyal both to the Temple and to the Torah, even when they were no longer politica11y united with their matrix: "What is particularly significant about this situation is the fact that religious and ethnic loyalties transcend administrative and political boundaries" (26). To anyone familiar with the Hebrew Bible, however, it is puzzling to figure out just when and how such Galilean attachment to J erusalem may have developed. David may weIl have been a "popular" king at the outset (2 Sam 2:4; 5:1-3).3 But Jerusalem was a non-Israelite (Jebusite) stronghold that David captured with the help of his non-Israelite mercenaries as a capital for his rule over Israelites and the conquered Canaanites (2 Sam 5: 6-1 0). Eventually two extensive popular revolts erupted against "Yahweh's anointed. " The first, which apparently involved much of Israel, drove David and his court from J erusalem and was put down only with difficulty by David's mercenary troops (2 Sam 15-19). The less ominous second revolt also involved much of Israel, although Judah remained l0yal (2 Sam 20). Thus resubjugated to their messiah by David's professional army, Israel remained quiescent through the long reign of Solomon. Feeling overburdened by the "forced labor" instituted by Solomon to build the royal temple (and royal palaces and fortresses), however, the ten northern tribes rebe11ed against Solomon's ostensible successor Rehoboam, and remained independent of Jerusalem's rule for two hundred years before the Assyrians fina11y conquered the (N orthern) Israelite regime in Samaria in 722/21. Beginning with Jeroboam, the frequently overthrown kings of Israel instituted their own cult centers at Bethel, Dan, Samaria itself, and elsewhere, and Jeroboam had his own legitimating history written, "the Elohist," a counterpart to "the Yahwist" his tory written to legitimate the Davidic dynasty (see now Coote). Thus, while the same god Yahweh was ostensibly worshipped by Judahites and Israelites and while prophets in both Judah and Israel appealed to the same god Yahweh in their indictments of the exploitation, injustices, and (religious) disloyalties of kings, priests, and royal offieials, word "Jews" when applied to people in antiquity, I will use the term "Judean(s)" when translating the Greek 'Iovociioc;loL and when referring to people in Judea, and "Galileans" when referring to inhabitants of Galilee. . . 3S ee the distinction between the royal Jerusalem ideology of kingship and the popular "anointing" ofkings in Horsley 1985:471-95.
, HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 133 somewhat different traditions were developing. During the political vacuum in the wake of Assyrian decline, of course, Josiah not only centralized political-economic-religious power in Judea, but reasserted Davidic rule in the north. At Bethel and elsewhere in "the eities of Samaria" he destroyed the "high places," defiled the altars, and slaughtered the priests (2 Kings 23:15-20). The question is whether such carnage would have evoked the appreciation and loyalty of ordinary people in the north. Such cult centers were royal institutions economica11y burdensome to the peasant producers. Insofar as Josiah's policy in the north was the same as in the south, i.e., to destroy local centers of loyalty in order to centralize power in the monarchy and temple, however, such actions may only have evoked popular resentment of Jerusalem. Josiah's "reform" apparently did reach into Galilee ("as far as Naphtali," 2 Chron 34:6-7; "from Geba to Beersheba," 2 Kings 23:8; and control of the district of Megiddo, 2 Kings 23:29). But Jerusalem' s period of influence over the north was brief and hardly seems to have been the basis for the persistent Galilean loyalty to J erusalem as the cultural and cultic center that Freyne imagines. As in the century before Josiah, so in the five centuries fo11owing his "reform," Samaria and Galilee were under separate political jurisdiction, usually aPersian, Ptolemaic, or Seleucid imperial province or sub-province. The second temple was a Judean (and, of course, Persian imperial) institution with no direct or offieial authority over other districts in Palestine, so far as we know. In fact, Galilee did not come under the direct control of the Jerusalem Temple and high priesthood until just before 100 BCE, when the Hasmonean Aristobulus, son and successor of John Hyrcanus, gained control of it. Maccabean literature and J osephus' s reports contain scattered references to Galilee during the rise of the Hasmonean dynasty. Nothing in those references indicates Galilean subjection or attachment to Jerusalem prior to Aristobulus. Josephus (Ant. 12:138-144) eites a letter of Antiochus III to the governor of Coele-Syria and Phoenicia that included the provlsIOn: 7rOAL7evea()waCiv 08 7raV7e~ oi. BK 70V e()vov~ KCi7Cx 70V~ 7rCi7p[OV~ v6fJ.ov~
. . .. Freyne (1980:36) argues that this means "the right to live according to the Jewish law was confirmed to a11 the Jews under Ptolemy the governor, and this must have included Galilean Jews also." The focus throughout the letter, however, is on "the Judeans" in and around the eity of Jerusalem and the Temple, with particular attention to "the senate, the priests, the scribes of the temple, and the temple-singers." Moreover, if 70V~ 7rCi7p[OV~ v6fJ.ov~ refers to the Torah (written and used in the temple-state of Judea), at what point and through what soeial-political proces~ would it have become the traditional law among Galileans?
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The pro-Hasmonean 1 Maccabees must be read critically. The archaizing author of 1 Maccabees represents the Hasmoneans ~d the~r a~lies a~ (t~e heirs of) "Israel," who, in chapter 5, rescue other Israehte~ or t~elf brethren/kindred" who are supposedly being attacked elsewhere m Palestme, such as "those in the territory" of Gilead and "those in Galilee" (1 Macc 5:9, 16-17 23 45; at 1 Macc 5: 16-17, 23, Jerusalem Bible has "countrymen" , , "h J f and "the Jews"; RSV has "the J ews," and NRSV still has t e ews 0 y Galilee! "). Thus even if we take the text at face value, it would be .nece.ssar to determine whether "Israel" and "kindred" referred only or pnmanly to Judeans who had come to be resident or captive outside of Judea or to other Israelites as weIl. Moreover, in Galilee both the persecution and Simon's rescue operation were confined to the immediate vicinity of Ptolemais (so 1 Macc 5:15, cf. 5:21-23), which hardly warrants a conclusion about the ethnic composition of all of Galilee. The account of Gentile persecution and Hasmonean rescue of "Israelites" in 1 Macc 5, however, can hardly be taken at face value. The author does not even represent all the campaigns cited as rescue missions and othen~ are not convincing as rescue missions. The account is heavily influenced from biblical passages such as Joshua 9:12; Ezra 4:1; Neh 2:10, 19; 3:33; 4:1-2 ("the nations roundabout"); and Deut 20:13-15 (Judas' treatment of towns in Gilead, 1 Macc 5:28, 35, 44, 51; see further Schwartz:2527). From the sequence of places mentioned, it seems clear that 1 Macc 5 and 2 Macc 10-12 are following a common source. But what 1 Maccabees portrays as Gentile persecution, 2 Maccabees (12:2; 10:14) ..repres.ent~, -~s Seleucid officials' repression. It does seem remarkable that Israehtes m such diverse locations "roundabout" should suddenly and simultaneously have been attacked. Moreover, 2 Maccabees has no reference to an expedition to Galilee. Thus it is not surprising that the report of a rescue mission in western Galilee with its lack of detail uncharacteristic of 1 Macc 5 and its general similarity to Judas's campaign in Gilead, has roused historians' suspicion (Sievers:49-57). Judging from the phrase 7raaClV rClALAClLClV ixAAO~VAWV in 5:15, finally, it would appear that 1 Maccabees assumed that Galilee was cOIIlprised primarily of non-Judeans. The letter from Demetrius to the J ews cited in 1 Macc 10 mentions "three districts added (to Judah) from Samaria and Galilee" (10:30), subsequently referred to as "from the XWPCl of Samaria" and "three toparchies of/and Samaria" (10:38; 11 :24). That these are then e~itly identified as the VOjlOL of Aphairema, Lydda, and Ramathaim, all added to Judea from southern Samaria, indicates that no Galilean territory was involved (the reference in 10:30 could be explained if, as is suspected, the Seleucids had linked Galilee with Samaria administratively; cf. Josephus, Ant. 12.154).
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 135 The absence of any mention of Galilee in these arrangements between Demetrius and Jonathan does indeed throw into question the contention that Galilee was "essentially Jewish and that its inhabitants enjoyed the rights of Antiochus IH's charter" (Freyne 1980:40). The references in 1 Maccabees to Hasmonean and Seleucid military actions involving Galilee, along with the paralleis in Josephus, indicate nothing about Galilean attitudes toward Jerusalem. The reference to the Seleucid general Bacchides taking the road to 'YClA--YClACl and encamping at jlClLaClAw(} TTJV EV ixpßeAou; and capturing it in 1 Macc 9:2 can hardly be read to suggest that "the Galilean peasants of the region had given some sign of their support for their Judaean brothers" (vs. Freyne 1980:39). Indeed, this ext!emely difficult passage has been taken as a reference to Galilee only by reading it through Josephus's paraphrase in Ant. 12.421. It is not difficult to see what Josephus has done. Assuming that "Judea" was the greater territory claimed for Jerusalem rule in his own day,4 he read 'YClA'YClACl as Galilee (thus creating the awkward juxtaposition of "coming to Judea" and "encamping in Galilee" in his account) and the dative plural CxpßeAou; as a . reference to Arbela, near the shore of the Lake. Moreover, he then embellished the brief story in 1 Macc 9:2 with a famous bit of "local color" influenced by the famous incident in which Herod ferreted out the brigands holed up in the cliff-caves near Arbela (perhaps reading jlClWClAW() as a reference to "ascents").5 If we focus on the text of 1 Macc 9:2, however, without J osephus' s "clarification," there is no reason to find a reference to Galilee. Bacchides encamped E7rL = "at" jlClLaClAW(} , a transliteration of the Hebrew mesilot = "routes," which must then be not "near" or "by" but "in" Arbelois, which must then be understood as a region, not a place name. After a convincing critique of alternative suggestions, Bar Kochva then offers a convincing explanation of how CxpßeAou; in the text could have resulted from the original Hebrew har-bet-el, "the hill-country of Beth-EI" (see 1 Sam 13:2; Josh 16: 1). Taken together with clear evidence of two place names just to the east, this locates Bacchides' encampment and military action just to the north of Jerusalem in Judea proper, the destination of his mission to confront Judas and army (Bar Kochva:553-59). Moreover that Jonathan left two-thirds of bis troops in Galilee when he advanced on Ptolemais, troops who subsequently stood their ground against Seleucid troops (1 Macc 12:47-51), hardly indicates anything ab out Jonathan 4A similar insertion of "Judea" for "his own country," Ant. 13.174 (cf. 1 Macc 12:35) can be read either as Judea proper or an Judean controlled tenitory in Palestine in the sense the historian himself was familiar with. 5S 0 Ant. 12.421, the legends of Herod's exploits near Arbela and Josephus's own experience in the area, B. J. 1.304-313; Ant. 14.415-30; Vita 188, 311.
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having "support" from Galileans (vs. Freyne 1980:41). Finally, we cannot take J osephus' s report (Ant. 13.154) that Demetrius' s generals believed that Jonathan was an "ally" of Galilee and that "the Galileans" were "his own" (people) as evidence for the Galileans' longstanding political-religious loyalties (vs. Freyne 1980:41). Josephus's account is suspect at just this point. He is paraphrasing 1 Maccabees 11: 63, which reads, in the best LXX textual tradition, ßOVAOp..EVOL p..E7C1.aTijaCl.L Cl.V70V 7f}~ XPELCI.~, i.e., (Demetrius's generals) "wishing to draw hirn (Jonathan) away from his purpose" (or perhaps "remove hirn from office" - NRSV). But Josephus apparently read 7f}~ XWPCI.~ as do some MSS of the LXX. Thus Josephus's insertion of the comment about Galilee and the Galileans into the 1 Maccabees account, prompted perhaps by the reading XWPCI.~ before hirn, reflects his own view of the proper relations between Galilee and J erusalem. Schürer argued a century aga that Galilee must have come under Hasmonean rule when, according to Josephus's report, Aristobulus "made war on the Itureans and acquired a good deal of their territory for Jud~ea and compelled the inhabitants, if they wished to remain in their country, to be circumcised and to live in accordance with the laws of the Jews" (7rOAep..f]aCl.~ 'IrOVPCl.LOV~ KCl.1. 7rOAA~V Cl.V7WV 7f}~ XWPCI.~ 7ft 'IoVOCl.LCI. 7r/JOaK7rJaCt.p..evo~, a.VCI.'YKCt.aCl.~ 7e 70V~ eVOLKOOV7C1.~, ei ßOVAOV7C1.L p..iveLv ev 7ft XWPQl, 7repL7ip..vea(}Cl.L KCl.1. KCl.7Cx 70V~ 'IOVOCl.LWV vop..OV~ SrlV. Ant. 13.318). There is
reason to believe that the Itureans (based in Lebanon around Panaeas) had by this time extended their power into Galilee as well as over Auranitis, Batanaea and Trachonitis to the east (Smallwood: 14). Schürer's conjecture that the portion of Iturean-controlled territory taken by Aristobulus was (part of) Galilee is based on several interrelated observations. The most telling are that Josephus does not say that Aristobulus subdued "the Itureans" themselves but only that he conquered a large portion of their territory; that Galilee had not hitherto belonged to the territory of the J ewish high priest, Hyrcanus' conquests having reached only as far as Samaria and Scy~lis; and that the districts north and east of Galilee were predominantly Gentile down to the time of the Herodians. A comparison between J osephus' s report of Aristobulus' s actions in the north and that of Hyrcanus's conquest and Judaization of the Idumeans lends further support to Schürer's conjecture. In the case of Idumea Josephus writes that Hyrcanus "subdued the Idumeans" themselves, and "permitted them to remain in their country so long as they had themselves circumcised and were willing to observe the laws of the Jews" (Ant. 13.257). By contrast, in the case of Aristobulus, he distinguishes between "the Itureans" on whom the high priest made war and from whom he wrested territory for Judea, on the one hand, and "the inhabitants" of that territory (i.e., Galilee),
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 137 whom he compelled "to be circumcised and to live in accordance with the laws of the Jews," on the other (Ant. 13.318). Moreover, all other territories except Gaulanitis, which was secured by Alexander Jannai, controlled by the Itureans were still intact well over a half-century later when the Romans finally assigned Batanaea, Auranitis, and Trachonitis, as well as Ulatha and Panaeas to Herod (Ant. 15.342-364).6 Recent archaeological work at Meiron in Upper Galilee provides numismatic evidence that further supports Schürer's conjecture. The numerous Hasmonean coins found in Stratum I (200-50 BCE, Hellenistic) are almost exclusively those of Alexander Jannaeus, while prior to those the coins are Hellenistic Tyrian mints. Some caution is in order since Jannean coins also predominate among Hasmonean coins found in Judean sites as weIl. But the sudden appearance of numerous coins of Alexander J annaeus suggests that it was just before or at the beginning of his reign that Hasmonean rule became effective in upper Galilee (see, with a critical eye, Meyers, Strange, Meyers:xix, 155, Appendix C). Still unclear, however, is just how "Jewish" this made the Galileans. That Ptolemy Lathyrus "was able to surprise the city of Asochis ... because it was the Sabbath" (Ant. 13.337) simply reflects that the defending troops were Judean and is not evidence that Lower Galilee was "Jewish" (vs. Freyne 1980:44). Also, the establishment of Hasmonean rule in Galilee would have meant the imposition of a Judean aristocracy (as Hasmonean officials settled into the administrative centers of the district), not the emergence of a "native aristocracy" (vs. Freyne 1980:49-50). Moreover, the presence of J annean coins does not necessarily mean that Meiron was a distinctively "Jewish" village, but only that Hasmonean coins circulated there (vs. Meyers, Strange, Meyers:xix, 155). In order to understand the situation adequately we must refine our conceptual apparatus. Given the political power vacuum in the area in the wake of Seleucid decline toward the end of the second century BCE, it is historically unlikely that there was a circumscribed territory with clear boundaries known as "Galilee. " The area could perhaps best be described as a frontier. When Hyrcanus took control of the Great Plain it is likely that Jerusalem's influence projected into lower Galilee. But it remained for Aristobulus to take control of Galilee from the Itureans. Who the inhabitants of the area were ethnically and religiously is a separate question, once we note the difference between the Itureans, whose control of the area Aristobulus putto an end, and the inhabitants, whom
6Ironically, Freyne's paragraph (1980:43) against Schürer on the "}udaization" of Galilee supports rather than weakens Schürer' s conjecture.
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Aristobulus subjected to the laws of the Judeans, according to Josephus. In the absence of any direct historical evidence or ~ntil archaeologists make some conclusive discovery that sheds light on the issue, we must rely on historical reasoning from some admittedly vague "knowns" to the "unknown." We know that ancient imperial rulers tended not to displace (and replace) the bulk of the populations they conquered or to interfere much in village community life of subject peoples, but simply to deport and replace the governing and administrative elite of the previous/conquered regime. The Babylonian practice is weIl represented as removing basically the ruling elite from the capital city (2 Kings 24-25). Presumably this is how we should interpret the brief report of the Assyrian conquest of Galilee in 731 (2 Kings 15:29) and of the capital city Samaria a decade later (2 Kings 17). Unless we are to dismiss the account of the latter as merely Josianic/deuteronomistic propaganda, the displacement of people may have been more severe than usual when the Assyrians fmally conquered Samaria itself. Still the figure of 27,290 people given in Assyrian imperial sources would correspond roughly to the ruling elite and its political-economic-religious-military governing apparatus (which would have been approximately ten percent of the total population, judging from comparative sociological studies). In contrast with the settlement of foreigners in the capital city of Samaria itself after 721 (2 Kings 17:24; ANET 284), however, there is no evidence of Assyrian settlement of people from elsewhere in the empire in Galilee, as Tadmor explains .(1983; Hayes änd( Kwan:169,178-79). The Persian regime even restored previously deported native elites to power, as in the case of Judea, hence is unlikely to have resettled /Galilee with non-Israelites. Moreover, while the Hellenistic empires founded numerous cities in the ancient Near East, including in the areas surrounding Galilee, they did not interfere much with local village life. Thus, in the absence of any evidence for transplantation of peoples or for foundation or cities in Galilee itself, we may surmise that many if not most people in Galilee were the descendants of ancient Israelite tribes/clans, most likely what was left of the "tribes" of Naphtali and Zebulun (e.g., Naphtali's "high places of the field" from the Song of Deborah, Judges 5:18; see C. Meyers The (semi-)rugged terrain, including aseries of 1983; Stager 1989). mountains and valleys, reinforces such an assumption of traditional social life in Galilee. There is nothing to warrant the reading of "religious conversion" into Josephus's report that "the inhabitants were compelled to be circumcised and to live according to the laws of the Jews" (Ant. 13.318). Thus most of the older as weIl as recent scholarly discussion of whether the "conversion to Judaisrn" was "forced" or "voluntary" is anachr'onistic and beside the point
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 139 (recent treatment by Kasher). In accordance with the political history he is writing, J osephus' s report means that the Hasmonean regime from this point governed Galileans and other recently subjected peoples such as the Idumeans just as they did the Judeans according to the Torah and its application by court scribes and regional officials. Insofar as some of the inhabitants of Galilee may have been descendants of former Israelites, "the laws of the Judeans" would not have been totally strange. We know from numerous cross-cultural studies that even though they may not be literate, peoples most definitely have cultural traditions carried in oralforms, and that peasantries and other subjected peoples maintain theirown "little" or popular traditions over against the "great" or official tradition maintained in literary form by a cultural elite (Scott). Assuming some continuity of Mosaic and other common Israelite traditions, descendants of the tribes of Naphtali and Zebulun would have had historical traditions (such as the exodus and "The Song of Deborah") and covenantal customs (such as the Sabbath and circumcision) akin to those subsumed in the Judean Torah and history-scrolls. "Judaization" would have meant varying degrees of change depending on the ethnic and cultural background of the local villagers . J osephus provides a fascinating case of the prominent Idumean (family of) Costobar who, despite the ostensible subjection to "the laws of the Judeans" since the time of John Hyrcanus, persisted in indigenous Idumean cult and customs into th~ reign of Herod (Ant. 15.255). That seemingly special case, however, pomts to the general question that must be addressed when it comes to the extension of Hasmonean rule to subjected peoples such as the Idumeans and Galileans. The Idumeans apparently had different cult and customs from the Judeans. But even if (some of many) Galileans had traditions similar or parallel to those of the Judeans, those traditions and customs had undergone eight centuries of different development since the time of David and Solomon. How would the Galileans, whose customs would have differed in significant ways from "the laws of the Jude ans , " have become familiar with them? Assuming that it beg an with the Hasmonean take over of the area under Aristobulus, how would the "Judaization" of Galilee have proceeded?
A Century
0/ J erusalem Rule in Galilee
Even if we assurne that subsequent Hasmonean High Priests continued Aristobulus's policy of requiring the Galileans "to live in accordance with the laws of the Judeans, " we still have little or no direct evidence either of the extent to which the Galileans would have appropriated the Torah or of their attitudes toward the Hasmonean regime and the Temple in which it was based
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during the forty years prior to the Roman takeover in 63 BCE. One would expect the principal agents of Judaization to have been what sociologists would call the "retainers" of a regime such as the Hasmonean high priesthood (Lenski; Saldarini 1988). Such would have been professional guardians and interpreters of the Torah, scribes or sages such as the Pharisees who, as Josephus explains, had been "passing down to the people certain regulations handed down from former generations and not written in the laws of Moses" (Ant. 13:297). But J ohn Hyrcanus had rescinded those rulings established for the people by the Pharisees sometime prior to the Hasmonean take-over of Galilee. It is doubtful, moreover, that much by way of systematic instruction in Jewish ways could have been accomplished under the reign of Alexander Jannai, immediately after imposition of the Jewish laws in Galilee, even though he continued the policy of forced Judaization of conquered peoples (Ant. 13.397). Whatever energies Jannai did not exhaust in new military conquests must have been devoted to the extensive resistance he evoked among his own people, particularly from the scribal or "retainer" elements through which his regime would supposedly have governed the populace. Josephus's reports of the virtual civil war raging in Jerusalem and Judea suggest that Pharisees and other retainers were likely among the thousands who Jannai killed, among the 800 he brutally crucified, and among the supposedly 8000 who fled into exile for the remainder of his reign (Ant. 13.372-383). On the other hand, when the Pharisees themselves gained control of th~ state under his wife and successor Alexandra Salome (76-67; Ant. 13.39841), it is quite possible that the Hasmonean regime undertook more rig(;r'Ous application of the laws of the Judeans and the rulings of the Pharisees in Galilee and other recently subjugated areas. It is difficult to discern how the repeated Roman conquest of Palestine could have done anything but delay or even weaken the Judaization of Galilee. At one point Freyne takes some of the Roman decrees cited by Josephus to mean "that Galilee could claim to be Jewish, both in fact and tradition, and such claims were recognized and embodied in legal enactments by the Roman authorities" (1980:61-62). Such would be a misunderstanding of political-economic relations under ancient empires, however. The decrees of Julius Caesar cited by Josephus pertain to the rulers Hyrcanus II and his successors, their jurisdiction over "the nation of the Jews" and the tribute and other taxes they must extract from their people to render up to Rome (Ant. 14.193-210). The "rights and privileges" mentioned are either those specified by the traditional J ewish "laws" for the high priests or the fruits of certain lands previously and now again subject to the Hasmonean high priesthood (Ant. 14.195, 209), not rights and privileges of Judeans generally, in I
I
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOClAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 141 which Galilee supposedly now shared. 7 The implications for Galileans are simply that they are to continue under Hasmonean rule, and presumably to be taxed by the regime in Jerusalem as wen as by the Romans - through the regime in J erusalem. In fact direct Roman intervention touched off a generation of political and social turmoil in Galilee as in the rest of Palestine, including chronic "civil war" between riyal Hasmoneans, compounded if not fueled by the empire:...wide Roman "civii war" that encompassed much of the East. During that time, Galileans were the first among his future subjects to become acquainted with the repressive practices of the young Herod, whom his father Antipater had placed in charge of the district. Among his early exploits were the vigorous suppression of banditry along the Syrian frontier and the energetic collection of a special levy of taxes by Cassius (Ant. 14.159-160, 168-171,274; B. J. 1.204-206,210-211,220-221). In the sustained resistance to Herod' s conquest of his kingdom with the aid of Roman troops, the principal military forces were probably provided by the troops of the riyal Hasmonean faction, including the garrisons that Aristobulus had stationed in fortresses throughout Palestine and which remained loyal to hirn and his sons Alexander and Antigonus (Ant. 13.417, 427; 14.83, 89, 413, etc.). But there was also popular resistance to Herod and the Romans, resistance that appears to have been unusually persistent in Galilee (Ant. 14.414-417, 421-4'30, 432-433; B. J. 1.304-306, 309-313, 315-316; how do we read Ant. 14.450 vs. B. J. 1. 326?). Ordinary Galileans and Judeans alike had by this time sufficient experience of Herod's (and the Romans ') ruthless treatment to resist the imposition of his rule.8 There is no more evidence for Galilee under Herod' s rule than for the period of Hasmonean rule. We can only reason from what we know was happening generally under Herod to the two measures of Galilean "Judaism" suggested by Freyne: the people's likely relations respectively to the Temple and to the Torah. Herod left the temple/high priesthood as institution intact, but for his own purposes. There were thus now three layers of government over the people each of which laid claim to revenues in the form of tribute tithes, or taxes, compared with the one level only a generation earlier unde; the last Hasmoneans. One of the principal reasons for the intensity of Herod's taxation of his subjects was his vast program of cultural buildings . and military fortresses, and the centerpiece of his building projects, in grand . 7For :ulle~ discus.sion of the Roman policy of alliance with and role through native anst~cracles "':'l.~ pamcular reference to the Jewish high priesthood, see Horsley 1986. For a cntlClsm of Freyne's attempt to explain the resistance to Herad in Galilee as stemming almost exc1usively fram the remnants of Hasmonean aristocracy that had somehow become based there (e.g., 1980:63-68), see Horsley 1988:186-189.
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Hellenistic style, was the rebuilding of the Temple area in Jerusalem .. After marrying into the Hasmonean family, Herod managed to do away .wlth t~e last possible Hasmonean claimant to authori~, and ~h.ereafter appOl~t~d hIS own men from Babylonian or Egyptian Jewlsh famlhes, to the posltIOn of high prie~t. The problems of legitimacy that we might surmise thereafter surrounded the incumbents of the high priestly office are confirmed by Josephus's narratives of the events following the death of He~od .. ~mong the principal foci of popular outcry in J erusalem was the lllegltlmacy and injustice of the high priest (Ant. 17.207-8;. B. J. If there ;;as ~uch an outcry against the high priest in J erusalem ltself, lt lS dlffic~lt t~ Imagme that the Temple and high priesthood, increasingly under Herodl~ mfl.uence and patently tools of Herodian rule, would have gained respect m Gahlee where resistance to Herod' s conquest had been so intense. The Pharisees and other "retainers" attached to the temple would have experienced a dramatic "demotion" and loss of status under Her?d. Ther~ is no reason to believe that they completely withdrew into conventlcles of plety (pace Neusner 1973), for Josephus reports their. continu~d inv~lvement in political affairs and their attempts to influence pohcy, desplte thelr refusal to sign loyalty oaths to Herod and Rome (Ant. 17: 41-46). Moreover, several decades later they are still active in political affairs, indeed are at the center of political scheming in the aftermath of the initial revolt in the summer of 66 (Vita 20-23). Their general status and political influence .would ~a:e b~e~ greatly reduced, however, given the higher level of Herodlan. adID1mst~atIOn above them. Nevertheless, it is possible to imagine that, besldes loo~,g to their own brotherhoods for mutual support, they would have been rall the more active in seeking influence among the people, including those in an outlying district such as Galilee, less under Herodian surveill~ce .. There is thus little reason to believe that the JudalzatIOn of Galilee (insofar as that would have meant focus on temple and Torah) would have advanced much under Herod' s heavy hand. The popular uprisings th~t erupted in every major district of Herod's realm, in Galilee around Sepphons as weB as in Perea and Judea, did not take the form of movements to restore the Temple and Torah, as had the Maccabean Revolt (according to 1 . Maccabees), or a popular election, by lot, of high priestly officers, as dld the Zealots (proper) in NW Judea in the winter of 67-68. Jose~hus reports, rather that in each case the insurgents acclaimed one of thelr number as "king': (Ant. 17.271-285; B. J. 2.56-65). In the p~esent context it ~s inadequate merely to observe that these movements were mformed by a tra~l tion of popular kingship attested in Jewish biblical traditions (of Saul, Davld, Jehu,etc.). We must appreciate also what these traditions and movements stood over against. The tradition of popular kingship would have been
?-?) ..
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOClAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 143 opposed to traditions that served to legitimate either the temple or the Torah. There appears also to have been a revival of interest in kingship tradition among literate groups, perhaps also in reaction to illegitimate, Romansponsored Herodian kingship, and the literate form includes the "son of David" motif as well (Pss. Sol. 17; Horsley 1986). But popular kingship, even if it had included the Davidic motif, would not necessarily have been distinctively "Judean, " since David had been an Israelite hero as weIl as a Judahite one, and since popular kings hip had preceded David as weB as continued on in northern Israel long after David's time (esp. Jeroboam, Jehu). Thus the revolt in Galilee, like those in Judea and Perea, seems to have been an assertion of independence of the principal institutions of J erusalem rule as wen as of Herodian tyranny .
Galilee Between Roman Reconquests (4 BCE - 67 CE) After the death of Herod, Galilee was placed under the political jurisdiction of his son Antipas (4 BCE - 39 CE). This leaves us wondering just what influence the Temple, high priests and their retainers such as scribes and Pharisees continued to wield in the territory they had supposedly governed for the previous century. Again we have virtually no evidence. And again the decisive events would appear to be conquests, the Roman reconquests in 4 BCE and 67 CE. In this case, however, the conquests would, on the face of things, seem to limit the opportunities for further Judaization of Galilee rather than foster it. FoBowing the Roman devastation of Sepphoris and the surrounding area and enslavement of the people in retaliation for the uprising led by the popular king Judas in 4 BCE, Antipas rebuilt and fortified the city to be "the ornament of aB Galilee" and called it "Autocratoris," i.e., "imperial city" (Ant. 18.27). The rebuilt city was apparently Antipas's initial capital, and the city became a center of Roman political and Hellenistic cultural influence, remaining steadfastly loyal to the Romans and a focus for Galileans' resentment, as evident in Josephus's account of events in 66 (Vita 38-39, 104, 346-48). Before long, however, Antipas was busy founding the completely new city of Tiberias, on the shore of the Lake, as his new capital. It is clear from the names of his officials and their descendants that Tiberias was also a center of Roman and Hellenistic influence (Vita 32-35). Cultivation of the Torah and tithes and offerings to priests and temple (an economic drain on the Galilean peasant producers that would have stood in rivalry with Antipas's taxation for building projects, etc.) were clearly not high on Antipas's agenda in Galilee. Theissen has recently claimed that Antipas depicted himself on his coinage "as a pious Jew" (1991:29). His assumption, of course, is that
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Galilee was basically "Jewish." We have no evidence, however, regarding how Antipas's subjects may have viewed images on coins. Moreover, the non-Jude an as weIl as Judean descendants of former Israelites shared the tradition of Mosaic Covenantal prohibition of images. Thus the coinage of Antipas apparently cannot tell us much about the Judaization of Galileans. A more appropriate question to ask would be whether Antipas did anything to foster the Judaization of Galilee. On this question, the indications from literary evidence are negative. Two of Josephus's reports suggest fairly clearly that, if anything, Antipas was oblivious to the religious-cultural sensitivities of his subjects, regardless of their provenance, and that the Jerusalem authorities and their representatives had (or chose to have) little or no authority over Antipas and his officials. First, Antipas apparently built his new "royal" administrative city on the site of a graveyard, which "was contrary to Judean tradition" (Ant. 18.38). Second, the royal palace there was lavishly decorated with representations of animals in a style contrary to the laws (Vita 65). The Herodian capital was hardly advancing the cause of Judaization. After the demise of Antipas a relative power vacuum ensued in Galilee, with frequently changing political jurisdictions, from Agrippa I (39-44) to Roman governors (44-54) to continued Roman governors in western Galilee around Sepphoris but assignment of eastern Galilee around Tiberias and ( Tarichaeae to Agrippa II from 54 on. We can imagine that the Jerusalem authorities and/or their representatives such as scribes and Pharisees may have attempted to exert more influence in Galilee, but we have no evisIence - unless we give credence to Mark' s Gospel. ( Mark represents the Pharisees, and to a more limited extent, the scribes, as active in Galilee during the ministry of Jesus. Clearly the picture in Mark 2: 1 - 3: 6 of the Pharisees watching Jesus' every move cannot be taken at face value. Ancient governments, unlike some modem regimes, did not keep their subjects under regular surveillance (Giddens). But that Pharisees, as representatives of the J erusalem temple and high priesthood, were present in Galilee during the reign of Antipas and/or after Antipas was deposed is likely, given what happened in 66 CE. Upon the withdrawal of effective Roman power in the summer of 66, the Jerusalem authorities immediately exerted their claim to control of Galilee (B. J. 2.562-68). That is, in their minds, Galilee, like Idumea, belonged to the jurisdiction of Jerusalem .. Making their authority effective, on the other hand, was quite another matter. The utter failure of Josephus's mission to maintain control in Galilee, as documented even through his self-serving accounts, indicates just how fragmented and parochial the various areas of Galilee were and how little authority was commanded in Galilee by either the
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOClAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 145 Temple or the Torah. F?ll~wing the Roman reconquest of Galilee in 67, our sources dry up. There 1S httle that can be said with certainty. But rather than assume astate of affairs on the basis of modern scholarly assumptions, we should acknowledge tha~ there is simply no evidence that the Pharisees or proto-rabbis exerted mfluence, let alone dominance, in Ga1ilee following the Roman reconquest and the destruction of the temple and high priestly government in Jerusalem. Apparently Agrippa II was restored as ruler in eastern Galilee and presumably Roman officials administered western and upper Galilee ~ some manner. In contrast with the situation under Herodian rule there was a power vacuum in Galilee from the middle of the first century ~d well into the second. The Yavneah rabbis, fleeing the Roman devastation of Judea in the aftermath of the Bar Kochba Revolt, reestablished themselves in Galilee the second century. Even then only gradually did they toward the middle co~e to have much mfluence among the Galileans, who appear to have been resIstant to their rulings (Goodman 1983). The rabbis' efforts over a longer per~od of time eventually effected a deeper and longer lasting Judaization of Gahlee. That finally successful Judaization of Galilee however was ironically the indirect result of the final Roman reconquest ~f Judea i~ reaction to the Bar Kochba Revolt.
0:
The Early Judaization 0/ Galilee and Sodal Conjlict !his ~rief survey, on fragmentary evidence, of the erratic historical process In which Jerusalem conquered and ruled or influenced Galilee should raise a number .of important questions in our minds regarding our previous working assumptIOns about Galilee. Just how "Jewish" could Galilee have become in a few g:nerations of J erusalem rule? W ould Galileans have been positively or. negatIvely or rather ambivalently disposed toward the Temple and the high pn~stly .government in Jerusalem? Would the Torah have been operative in ?ahlee In s.ome way? And what influence would the Pharisees have had and m what soclal role(s)? . In o~der even to approach such questions we must, first, recognize the basIc soc1al structure in ancient Palestine (see Horsley 1989a:chaps. 4-5). The fundamental social division or opposition in Palestine was not Judaism versus Hellenism or observance versus non-observance of the Law or event~ally, Jewish versus Christian. The fundamental social division indi~ cated In our sources was between what appears in various aspects as rulers vers~s ruled, taxers. :ersus taxed, city/court/temple versus village/town, and officlal/learned traditIOn versus popular/local tradition. Yet this fundamental
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division is not between separable entities that can be understood in isolation.
Galileans and The Temple 9
It involves rather relationships of exploitation and domination. as weH as
shared cultural heritage and mutual influence. Perhaps most lmp~rtant to recognize is that we cannot speak simply of one "Jewish" ':socle.ty" ?r "community" with its traditions and ruIes, but must come to ~nps wlth dIfferent communities on at least two (overlapping) levels: local vIllage or town communities that had their own semi-independent social forms, on the ~ne hand, and the community(ies) centered around the. urban-bas d ~overnmg appar atus, on the other. The vast majority of ~c~ent p~~ple s hv~s were largely defined and determined by their membershlp m fa~.lhes and vIllage or town commumtIes. Villages and towns were seml-mdependent, selfgoverning, and relatively self-sufficient communi~i~s. ~ut vill~~es and. t?wns were subject to higher level communities/authontIes wlth pohtIcal, mlhtary, or religious power, such as cities, temples, and high priests, and ~ther. r~l~rs regional and/or imperial, often in multiple la~ers. . That basIc dlvls.IOn between rulers and ruled in Palestine was comphcated m the case of GalIlee by the regional differences rooted in the history sketched above. In order even to approach such questions we must, second, ma~e o~e ~r another procedural assumption about the cultural background of ~OClal hfe .1n Galilee: that is, whether or not there was continuity with anclen~ Israel~te_ traditions. If we assume the population was non-Israelite at the time of lts takeover by the Hasmonean regime in 104 BCE, then the situation in Galilee would have been somewhat like that in Idumea, with little common cult~~al tradition shared with the Judeans. If we assume the population was Isr~f~lte, then Galileans were likely to have held certain important cultural-rehgIOus traditions in common with Judeans and the "official" traditions of the Tor~. The fact that we find materials of Galilean provenance in the Gospels WhlCh aHude to Israelite traditions in apparent independence of Judean texts such as the Torah reinforces the second alternative. Thus, although biblical history and the subsequent pol~tical his tory of rule over Galilee give no support to the assumption that Gahleans looked to Jerusalem as their cultic and cultural center, it seems highly likely that the cultural traditions of many Gali1eans were Israelite in provenance, and therefore may have had certain similarities to what had become officiaHy sanctioned or sponsored traditions in Jerusalem. That woul~ appear t~ be the appropriate basis on which to reassess the fragmentary eVldence avallable on whether and/or in what ways Galileans may have developed loyalty or attachment to the Temple and Torah.
7
As the now familiar generalization has it, temples were built by kings, at least in the ancient Near East. The books of Ezra and Nehemiah make it abundantly dear that the second temple in J erusalem was sponsored by the Persian imperial regime, whose general policy was to sponsor the restoration of local temples and laws, such as those of Judea in what became the Torah. It was not a new practice that sacrifice was offered for both Rome and the Roman emperor. The temple with its high priesthood was ~he governing political-economic-religious institution in Judea in a double sens-e: It was the me ans through which the empire controlled Judea, and it was the institution through which the J ewish rulers controlled and drew revenues from the people. We need only recall the decree of Caesar cited above: All those peoples of Palestine subject to Jerusalem "shall also pay tithes to Hyrcanus and his sons just as they paid to their forefathers" (Ant. 14.203). In Judea, which had been ruled by a temple-state since the late sixth century BeE (and before-that a smaH "kingdom" under the Davidic monarchy for four hundred years), there was probably a relatively high degree of interaction between the high priestly regime and the local village communities. That does not mean, however, that Judean people were unambiguously "attached" to the high priesthood and temple. Even in Judea, with centuries of Temple heritage, it is dear from "intertestamental" literature such as 1 Enoch, Psalms of Solomon, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and so on, that prominent scribal groups sharply condemned the high priestly rulers. Moreover, in their scenarios for a reformed and renewed "Jerusalem" or "Zion" they wasted little imagination on a restored or rebuilt "Temple. "10 In the early first century BCE there had been virtual civil war against the high priest Alexander Jannai; Herod installed "foreign" Jewish families into the priestly aristocracy; widespread popular outcries broke out against the high priest at the death of Herod; and the high priests were the first to be attacked 9In this section I am working with very different presuppositions than those of Freyne 1980:chap. 7. Assuming that Gali1ee was somehow primordially Jewish and oriented toward the Temple as its cultic and cultural center, Freyne: (a) anachronistically separates the religious from the social and cultural dimensions; (b) works on functionalist assumptions about the integrative effect of atempie; and (c) on the assumption of the necessity of same "cult center," finds no alternative, pagan or syncretistic cult center constructed in Gali1ee under Hellenistic rule; hence he concludes (d) that Gali1ean "attachment to the Temple" was "very strang." Every one of those key assumptions can now be seen as unv.:arrant~d, and the conclusion is at odds with the evidence he himself presented that Gali1eans 19nored regulations regarding tithes and offerings. IOThat is exactly the opposite of the claim in Sanders 1985:ch 2; cf. Horsley 1987:286-292.
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by the popular insurrection in the summer of 66 CE. Thus, even in Judea, where there was a long-standing historical basis for loyalty to the Temple, popular crowds as weIl as literate scribal groups had for centuries sharply criticized or condemned the priestly aristocracy and/or Temple-establishment. By comparison with Judeans, Galileans had none of the historical basis for attachment to the Temple while having arecent basis for resentment of Jerusalem rule. Galilee not only stood at a distance from Jerusalem, but it had only recently come under Jerusalem's rule through conquest. Both the structure and the history of the situation suggest that there is little reason to look for much Galilean loyalty to the Temple. At the level of the rulers and their officials in the principal cities, Sepphoris was clearly the principal military and administrative center in ~alilee under the Hasmoneans and may weIl have continued with close relations to the Temple and high priestly families under Herod. The Roman installation of Antipas altered the governing structure, however, and set up overlapping' and riyal layers of rule. Antipas and his officials, first in the rebuilt Sepphoris and then in the new city of Tiberias, were in a position of competition for the tax or' tithe revenues produced by the Galilean populace. It is difficult to imagine any special attachment to the Temple or reason to advocate its ---... support by Herodian officials in Sepphoris and Tiberias. At the level of villages and towns, we can simply revert to the fun~a mental and apparentlY decisive evidence laid out but not followed by Freyne (1980:277-87). As Rabbi Judah said, "the people of Galilee know naught of the terumah of the temple chamber . . . and know naught of things devoted to the priests" (m. Ned. 2:4); they were reluctant to pay the tithes; and there is little or no evidence of compliance with the "half-shekel" tax, which had only recently been imposed in any case. The apparent situation behind Josephus's report that (he and) his two colleagues quickly "amassed a large sum of money from the tithes which they accepted as their priestly due" is as telling as his report that they wanted to return to Jerusalem with their "take." J osephus and his colleagues were sent by the high priestly regime in J erusalem to try to take control of Galilee in the breakdown of imperial order after the summer of 66. They would have arrived weIl after harvest time, it would seem. That is, tithes had not already been collected at the threshing floors or otherwise paid to priests in these Galilean communities. Suddenly, to officials from the Jerusalem high priestly government, people "anted up." Does this story testify to "attachment by the Galileans to priests from Jerusalem" (Freyne 1980) or to a hiatus in or lack of any regularized pattern of obligations supposedly due to temple and priests? After all , Galilee had . not been under direct temple and high priestly political (and economic?) jurisdiction for the previous seventy years (unless for three years under Agrippa I,
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOClAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 149
41-44) .. It would appear that we have no reason to believe "that the picture of. m. Bl~ 3:2; m.. Tatan 4:2, portraying devout countrypeople gathering to bnng thelr offermgs, also applied to Galilean Jews once the maamadoth system had been set up there" (vs. Freyne 1980:294). Comments about pilgrimage to the Temple, particularly at the great socalled "pilgrimage festivals," tend toward extreme hyperbole (Freyne 1980:287-93; following Safrai). Considering the physical limitations of Jerusalem and the Temple courtyards, it is clear that only a small fraction ~ven of the Judean population could have ,made a pilgrimage at any given festI~al. One must therefore be highly skeptical about just how important pilgnmage would have been for any significant portion of the Galilean populace. And one must be critical about wh at constitutes evidence for Galileans making pilgrimage. It seems inappropriate to take the story about the youthful Jes~s and his family in Luke 2 as a historical account, given Luke's the~loglcal agenda. Yet the passing reference to Pilate having mingled some Gahleans' blood ~ith th~ir sacrifices and the eighteen killed by the collapse of. the towe: .of SIloam m Luke 13: 1-5 may provide' evidence of some pilgnmage actIvlty by Galileans. In particular two incidents mentioned by J osephus must be examined. At Pe~teco~t in 4 BCE, after Archelaus had already bloodied the people protestmg his father' s tyranny at Passover, "a countless multitude flocked in from G:alilee, fro~ Idumea, from Jericho, and from Perea, although it was the natIve populatIOn of Judea which was preeminent" (B. J. 2.43). But Josephus also indicates that this gathering was utterly atypical because of recent events. The people came "not only for the religious observances but because they resented the reckless insolence of (the Roman officer) Sabinus" as ~elI (Ant. 17.254); "it was not the customary ritual so much as indignation Whl.C~ drew t~e ~eople in crowds to the capital" (B. J. 2.43). A widespread up.nsmg was. l~ ItS nascent phases, so this is hardly good evidence for pilgnmage. It IS. mteresting that J osephus makes no reference to any significant number of Gahleans or Pereans at the preceding Passover festival. J osephus' s variant accounts of the second incident, under Cumanus (4952), leave us pondering what to make of his inconsistent use of terms of refere~ce, among other things. In the Jewish War (2.232-35) he has the Samantan :illagers k!11ing one "Galilean" among "many 'lovoO!'i'oL going up to the festIval," while in the Antiquities (20.118-120) he has numerous "Galileans" killed while on their way through Samaria to Jerusalem and then ': Galileans" ur ging a mass of "'lovoO!'i'OL" to take arms in assertio~ of their hberty. The second account also makes it seem that such pilgrimages were a reg~lar occurrence. We must conclude that pilgrimage was not unusual for Gahleans, but there is no reason to think that it was a regular pattern for very
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many Galileans. Thus the Galilean relationship to the temple and high priesthood would appear to involve a fundamental structural social conflict compounded by regional and historical differences. lt is difficult to imagine how the temple and high priesthood could have had much of an integrative effect for Galileans. lf some sort of identification with Jerusalem as a symbolic center did develop for some Galileans, then we would expect that to have been an ambivalent relationship, since they were at times governed and taxed from that symbolic center.
Galileans and The Torah ll Some critical rethinking may be necessary before we can even pose the historical inquiry appropriately in regard to the presence and function of the Torah in Galilee under Jerusalem rule or influence. As for evidence, we have references that may be relevant to the question in both J osephus and the Synoptic Gospels. But those references rarely refer to "the Law," as in the phrase, "the Law and the Prophets." Rather Josephus refers in various terms, almost always in the plural, to oi vop..OI., ra vop..I.p..Cl., oi 7rarptol. vop..OI., and so forth - "the laws," "the customs/rulings," "the ancestral customs." And the Gospels refer to a particular custom or to "the traditions of the elders" versus "the commandment of God" (see esp. Mark 7:1-13). The idea that "the Law" was at issue between Jesus and the Pharisees or that "the Law/Torah" was operative in Galilee is likely an influence from modem scholarship's own roots in Pauline-Lutheran influenced qiscussions of "The Law" and from recent modern discussions of "Judaism" as basically a "religion" in which there were particular "redemptive media" such as Torah and Temple. We should rather attend to the terms used in our sources themselves. We should be open to the possible differences between (a) a Torah 11 Procedurally there is no point in framing this discussion as an argument with Freyne's presentation. In both his grand historical survey of 1980 and his more popularized version of 1988, the resea.t.:ch and conceptualization pre-date recent recognition of key issues that call our older assumptions into question. Neusner has made dear how inappropriate is Freyne's use of rabbinie sources (review of Freyne 1980, in JR 62 [1982] 429-30). And the main argument driving Freyne's whole construction of Galilean history - that Galilee, in contrast to Judea, was not dominated by "the Zealots" - turns out to be beside the point, since there has turned out to be no evidence of "the Zealots" as dominant anywhere in first century Jewish Palestine (Smith 1971; Horsley 1979). Thus there is no point in arguing against a treatment that finds in several incidents recounted by Josephus "extreme (or rigorist) Jewish sectarian views" of "the halakhah" or a "Zealot ideology" that somehow jumped from the Temple captain Eleazar in Jerusalem in the early summer of.66 to the riff-raff of Tiberias in a few weeks' time.
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOClAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 151 seroll proper, (b) "laws" or "eustoms" generally that may inc1ude or refer in som~ way to .what i~ also in the Torah seroll, (e) rulings advoeated by Phan~ees, senbes, or sages but not aetually in the Torah seroll (i.e., unwntten ".Torah" or "traditions of the elders"), and (d) loeal-regional eustoms whieh may weB have had roots in the same original eovenantal tradition out of ~hieh the Torah proper had grown (the last is an example of what anthropologists refer to as the "little" or popular tradition, while the first three aB belong to the "great" tradition, some of whieh is written and some oral). With such possible differences in mind, we can examine several incidents in Galilee ree0Ul!ted by J osephus for what they indicate about whether eommon Is~aelite eovenantal traditions/customs and/or more particularly Judean ethnic or aneestral traditions and/or seribal "traditions of the elders" and/or the written Torah itself were involved in a given case.
Motive oi the peasant strike over Gaius's statue: The widespread protest ?ver the attempt to place Gaius's statue in the Jerusalem Temple apparently mvolved a ~easant strike - refusal to plant erops - and this took plaee at least pcu:ly In some areas of Lower Galilee (Ant. 18.261-288; B. J. 2.184203; P!lllo, Gaium 230-232). Both Josephus's and Philo's accounts emphasize that what inspired the protest was the violation of the J ewish law. All t~ree aeeounts, however, are heavily charged with apologetie rhetorie. We sImply have no way of knowing the degree to which the Galilean peasants who bee~me ca~ght ~p in. the protest were motivated in the way portrayed by the Fiavlan J ew~sh his.ton~ and the Alexandrian J ewish theologian. lt may be ~ore plaUSIble histoneaBy to surmise that such people were more motIvated b.y the (reports of) mass movement of Roman and auxiliary troops through their land. In sueh colonial or imperial situations as the Palestinian ~eople under Roman rule, however, "religious" symbols take on a heightened Importance as people's politieal autonomy is removed and their economic cireu~s~ances d.isintegrate (more extensive discussion in Horsley 1987: ch 3). So ~t IS coneeivable that protest rooted more in long-standing grievances crystalhzed around a symbol such as the bust of the emperor. On the basis of Josephus's and Philo's reports it is difficult to determine whether the motives ?f the Galilean participants focused specificaBy on the violation of the Torah Itself and/or the p~ospee~ of t~e bust being placed in the temple (as a symbolie c~nte~). The Gahleans In thiS case could have been motivated simply by the vlOlat~on of one of the basie "eommandments of God" (in the common Israel~te cov~nantal tradition) or simply by the statue itself as objectionable. That IS, whlle the accounts of this incident tell us much about the Jewish apologetie rhetoric of Philo and Josephus, they do not tell us much at all
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about the Torah proper (as distinct from the common covenantal tradition) in Galilee. Motives in the burning 0/ Antipas's palace in 66: Josephus writes that he had instructions from the Jerusalem koinon "to press for the demolition of the palace ... which contained representations of animals : ... forbidden by the laws" (Vita 65-66). Capellus and the other 7rpWrOL of ?:'lbenas, howe-:er, were no more concerned ab out the violation of the laws m 66 than Antlpas and their fathers' generation had been when Tiberias was built over graves and the animal decorations set in place forty or fifty years earlier. "J esus son of Sapphias," leader of the party of sailors and destitute, along with "some Galileans " set the whole palace on fire. Nothing in this account even suggests tha~ Jesus and the Galileans were motivated by the viol~tions of the laws or at least the prohibition of images in particular. That lS rather the repo~ted concern of the Jerusalem council. Nor can we trust Josephus's attribution of motives to his opponents in the situation, i.e., that Jesus and the Galileans were after spoil (gold leaf on the roof), since it was Josephus himself who ended up with spoil confiscated from the conflagration (Vita 295). One could imagine that destitute Tiberians and the Galileans. were m~re motivated by resentment at the luxury of the "king's pala~e" bUllt and .mamtained by their own labor and produce (cf. Luke/Q 7:25: What then d1d you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes:, Loo~, ~ho~e who put on fine clothing and live in luxury are in royal palaces ). Th1S mC1d.e~t thu~ does not provide evidence of Galilean interest in the Torah' .Inste~d 1t lS eV1dence for the conscious flouting of the laws and/or the offic1al ruhngs on the part of Herodian rulers and their officials, who must have set a certain tone or
cultural style in this Galilean capital city. The dernand that two renegade royal officials be circumcised: When two officials of Agrippa Il from Trachonitis joined J osephus in Ga~ilee in. the fall of 66, reports Josephus, oi. 'IovoaLoL demanded that they be cucumC1sed as a condition of remaining (in Tarichaeae/E. Galilee), a demand Josephus himself resisted (Vita 112-113). Sometime later "the crowd" clamored against Josephus that these refugee royal officers should conform to "the customs" (71 fh-,) of those among whom they were living, and claimed that they were "sorcerers" making it impossible to defeat the Romans (Vita 149). This apparent doublet of areport is puzzling. It is hig~ly. unus~al f~r Josephus to use the term "the Judeans" in his accounts of affaus m Gahlee In the Life. Are "the Judeans" here different people from those to whom he refers repeatedly as "the Galileans" or "those around Jo~ of Gischala~Jesus . son of Sapphias/etc.?" Does "the crowd" in Tarichaeae m the resumptlOn of
the story, Vita 149-154, refer to different people from "the Judeans" in the initial ~eport? . (The 7rciJ...Lv/"again" in Vita 149 relates to the immediately precedmg confl1ct between the crowd and Josephus, Vita 132-144, not to the initial report of the demand to circumcise the foreign nobles in Vita 112-13). If oi 'IovoaLoL in the initial report is not a broad term inclusive of Galileans and refers rather to some Judeans present in Tarichaeae, then this report tells us little about Galileans' views. In any case, whether either "the Judeans'" demand for circumcision in the initial report or the crowd' s concern about "customs" in the sequel refers specifically to the Torah is highly doubtful. In numerous other places Josephus uses phrases such as oi. vOIlOL 7rarpWL rwv 'IovoaCwv when he wants the reference to be explicitly to "the ancestral Judean laws." The term "customs" suggests that the reference is more likely to the general Israelite (and not distinctively Judean) custom of circumcision, which would have had deep historical roots in Galilee prior to the arrival of the Torah from Jerusalem. Josephus says explicitly in the second report that the crowd was als~ ,concer,n~d about the nobles somehow being "sorcerers" in a special pohtlcal-rehglOus sense, that is, they were officers of the Roman client ruler against whom they are in rebellion. Supl!lying oil to "the Judeans " in Caesarea PhilippilSyria: J osephus m two accounts that J ohn of Gischala had profiteered in supplying olIve Oll to "the Judeans" in Caesarea Philippi or Syria generally (Vita 74; B. J. 2,59.1-93). The incident does indicate that those Caesarean or Syrian Je,:s, ~lke Jo~ephus, recognized oil grown and pressed in Upper Galilee as satlsfymg punty requirements (ra vOIlLlla, Vita 74). Does this imply a ruling based on some concept of an approved eretz Israel delineated already, in midfirst century CE by some authorities, perhaps in Jerusalem (cf. Ant. 12.120)? Josephus' s report of the incident, however, says nothing about either the use and/or acceptan~e of the Torah or Pharisaic rulings in Galilee itself,12 c~arge~
, . Jesus son 0/ Sapphias holding in his hands "the laws 0/ Moses"; To mC1t: the Taric~ae~ mob against him, says Josephus, Jesus son of Sapphias, the cx.pXWV of T1benas, held up in his hands "the laws of Moses," claiming that Josephus was about to betray "the ancestrallaws" (Vita 132-135). It is more difficult than usual to know how to sift through the rhetoric in this , 12I~
is hardly ~cceptable crit~cal ,historical proce~ure to take at face value Josephus's of motIves to actors m hIS accounts, partlcularly in the case of his own rivals - m thlS case th~t !ohn of Gischala was motivated by profiteering rather than piety, And one must be SUSP1C10US of Josephus's defensive comments about his own authorization of John's action, Vita 76. attr:but1~ns
3
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account. J osephus has one of his two arch-enemies in Galilee refer to hirn here as "your commander in chief." It is c1ear from J osephus ~ s overall na~ ratives of affairs in Galilee that most of the different feudmg groups In Galilee did not recognize J osephus as such a "commander in chief." This leads to doubts about the intended tone of the adjoining phrase "the patriarchal laws." Is J osephus portraying J esus as mocking hirn and his supposed agenda wh ich as J osephus hirns elf unabashedly indicates, most groups in Galilee saw through? Assuming that Jesus did waive "the Mosaic laws" in his hand the incident suggests that there were copies of a Torah scroll ar ound , ~t least in a town the size of Tarichaeae. We can imagine that, whether it was read regularly or not, it could have served weIl as a symbol for the people's independence of Roman rule. What is striking about J osephus' s account (besides his virtual admission of the double game he was playing) is that he couches his own defense not in terms of loyalty to the laws of Moses, but in terms of his intent to use the spoil taken from the baggage train of the wife of the king's overseer (MrLTp01ro<;) to build fortifications for Tarichaeae (141-142). That is, concern for defense of the Torah/the laws of Moses was apparently not a burning issue for the Tarichaeans or his readers or both.
Josephus's sensitivity to observance 0/ the sabbath in Tarichaeae and Tiberias: J osephus says at one point he dismissed his soldiers for the sabbath (Vita" 159). Assuming that the account indicates observance of the sabbath in Tarichaeae, is observance of the sabbath an indication of observance of the Torah or of Pharisaic/scribal sabbath regulations? The sabbath was one of those basic covenantal "commandments of God," deeply rooted in the Israelite roots of Galileans weIl prior to their subordination to Jerusalem. Its observance in Galilee does not imply use of the Torah. Josephus's accounts of these incidents in Galilee give very little by way of indication that the Torah was important in Galilean life of the first century. One story may indicate that a copy of the Torah scroll was available in a large town. But another story suggests that defense of the Torah was ~ot .a major issue, even in the excitement of the revolt in 66. A few of the mCldents give information only about the basic Israelite covenantal stipulations about images or sabbath or the traditional custom of circumcision. One may imply that at some level there already existed some authoritative ruli~g regarding purity of oil, but it provides no information on observance m Galilee itself. We thus have evidence of observance of and concern about the basic commandments of the Mosaic covenant among Galileans, but little evidence one way or the other regarding either the functioning of the Torah or the presence of "the traditions of the elders" in Galilee.
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 155 In conclusion: What may be most remarkable about this survey of evidence on the Temple and Torah in Galilee is that there is little to suggest that either one was of central, defining importance for life in Galilee. However much Temple and Torah may have been the principal "redemptive media" for priests or Pharisees based in Jerusalem (or for Jews in the diaspora), no currently available evidence indicates that they had central significance in Galilee such that it would emerge in a situation of crisis. Some of the incidents Josephus reports, however, do indicate that fundamental principles of the Israelite covenantal heritage did have such defining significance that came to the fore in historical crises. But it is also evident that in those crises where the basic covenantal commandments of God had defining significance for Galileans, they stood in conflict with representatives of the Jerusalem Temple authorities, or rather they were involved in fundamental social conflicts in which the Jerusalem authorities or their representatives were "caught in the middle," given the structure of the imperial situation. Ironically, in such overt social conflicts, the Galileans who take their stand on covenantal principIe stand opposed by or to those whom we have been accustomed to labelling the leaders of Judaism. What this suggests is that we need a different set of terms and concepts with which to analyze and reconstruct Palestinian his tory in the early Roman period. The Role 0/ the Pharisees in Galilee Our best, and alm ost our only, sources for the Pharisees in Galilee, as for Galilean life in general, are the Synoptic Gospels. As with the Temple and Torah, we must free our thinking of the old synthetic conceptualization that linked the Pharisees c10sely with both the Law and the synagogue. Synagogues have been understood as religious buildings and the Pharisees as the leaders of the synagogues, and these as standard features of life in Galilee as weIl as the diaspora, where, for example, the Matthean church stands over against "the synagogue down the street" led by the Pharisees who constitute the principal religious competition (Kee: 15-22). In first century Galilee, however, the aVJlCL,,/w,,/CLL mentioned in the Gospels were not (yet) buildings, nor were they distinctively religious, and the Pharisees were not their leaders. There is virtuaIly no archaeological or textual evidence for the existence of synagogue buildings until the second century CE and most evidence is much later (Gutmann:72-76; Kee:1-14). It has been standard procedure to take NT references to aVJlCL,,/W"/CLi as evidence for a widespread presence of "the synagogue" (Le., a building) in Palestine, .above all in Galilee (see, e.g., Hengel 1975). In the Synoptic Gospels and Acts, however, only two uses of aVJlCL,,/w,,/TJ, Luke 7:5 and Acts 18:7, c1early
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and unambiguously refer to a building. In all of the Markan oeeurrenees (e.g., 1:21, 23, 29; 3:1; 6:2; and the Matthean and Luean paralleis) the assumption is that the avv(X"yw-ycli are loeal assemblies, with nothing in the texts to suggest that buildings might be involved. Texts such as Mark 13:9 and Luke 12:11 indieate that "synagogues" means loeal assemblies with politieal jurisdiction and authority to keep the peaee and to discipline troublemakers. Thus not only were the synagogues not buildings but they were not simply religious. Hoenig has gathered evidenee that knesset in early rabbinie literature "applied to 'assembly' and designated all eommunal aetivities." He then lays out numerous tannaitie sources indieating that the "town-square" (r'hova shel 'ir, the agora, whieh is misleadingly translated "market-plaee") was the loeation of the maamadoth prayers for fasting, trials, general assemblies, the bringing of first fruits, and prayers for rain. As Safrai sees, but buries in his treatment, the synagogue was thus the people, the eommunity, the eongregation assembled to eonduet eommunity affairs such as fund-raising, publie projeets, or prayers. There is no evidenee, moreover, to suggest that the leaders of the Ioeal assemblies were the Pharisees. Reeent elaims that the Pharisees were loeal religious leaders and brokers in Galilean villages are based on Luean editorial phrases whieh are not good evidenee for affairs in Galilee (Moxnes; Saldarini 1988:175-76). There were apparently often more than one äpXLavvOt.-yw-yoc; or rosh ha knesset (mistranslated as "ruler of the synagogue"). In tannaitie times, judging from repeated referenees in the Mishnah, neither the head(s) of the assembly nor the hazzan nor the parnasim nor the gabaim were sages, seribes, or Pharisees. These offieers of loeal assemblies were rather indigenous leadership from among the members of the loeal eommunity. For their part, the rabbis viewed association with the amme ha aretz as highly problematie - "morning sleep and midday wine and ehildren's talk and sitting in the assemblies of the peasants put a man out of the world" (m. 'Abot 3:11). It seems highly unlikely that the Pharisees were leaders of loeal assemblies if the later rabbis, by their own elear indieation, played no such role. Who then were the seribes and Pharisees? What was their social position and role? Of the three sets of evidenee, the least reliable and helpful is from Rabbinie sources (Saldarini 1988). Read eritieally, however, both 10sephus's reports ab out the Pharisees and the Gospel harangues provide evidenee about their social-politieal role. And in using the extremely limited evidenee on Pharisees, we should keep in mind that besides speaking from different interests and points of view, our sources provide infonnation on different aspeets of the Pharisees' eoneerns and roles. As noted above, several of 1osephus' s reports about the Pharisees' aetivities or aetions under different
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 157 rulers indieate that they were what eomparative sociologists such as Lenski would eall "retainers," that is, representatives of the rulers who help govern or, at times, govern themselves (Lenski; Saldarini 1988). As we noted briefly above, under lohn Hyreanus, the Pharisees were the guardians and interpreters of the laws and promulgators of additional rulings. Under Alexandra Salome they virtually administered the temple-state, and under Herod they simply lost status but did not abandon their political funetion. Finally, 10sephus's reports of events in 66-67 in lerusalem arid Galilee indicate that leading Pharisees quickly stepped into prominent roles in the attempt to control the volatile situation until the high priestly government that remained in Jerusalem could negotiate with the Romans (Vita 21, 191, 197). If we take 10sephus's portrayal of the Pharisees' role under the Hasmoneans seriously, reeognizing that they did not back away from politics under Herod and after, then it is historically eredible that they would have been aetive in Galilee at the time of lesus as the representatives through whom the J erusalem rulers attempted to exert influence even after they no longer enjoyed direet political jurisdietion over Galilee. The impression given toward the beginning of the Gospel of Mark that scribes or Pharisees were hanging around every village assembly where 1esus preaehed and healed is not eredible. Nevertheless, the broad general picture assumed in Mark is highly eredible historieally: the Pharisees are the authority figures who are oceasionally on the scene in Galilean villages and with whom the people have direct dealings on oeeasion. Not surprisingly they reeede in importance (when Jesus arrives) in lerusalem, where the high priestly rulers themselves are direetly in charge. In reeent years scholars both of Mark and of the Synoptie Sayings Source Q are increasingly inelined to plaee the origin of both in or elose to Galilee. Thus it does not matter whether we penetrate to a pre-Q or preMarkan level in order to use their representation of the Pharisees as pertinent to the social-political situation in Galilee. Not surprisingly, given the new sense we have of the Pharisees as having been "retainers" of the high priestly government in J erusalem and particularly the guardians and interpreters of the Torah, their portrayal in Q and Mark involves both the Temple and their traditions of interpretation. Our sense that both the woes against the scribes and Pharisees in Q and Jesus' disputes with the Pharisees and seribes in Mark involve primarily the (ritual) Law and/or purity regulations is the produet of an older synthetie eoneeptual apparatus heavily influenced from Protestant theological debates (1. Z. Smith 1990). And indeed the coneern with purity is a motif in the anti-Pharisaic Gospel material. The main issue, however, is not purity, not legalism, not ritual Iaw.
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In Mark 7:1-23 we miss the issue either if we read the story in terms of oral versus written Law or if we read it as concerned primarily with purity codes. 13 The story may begin with a question about cleanliness. But it becomes quickly apparent that the purity issue is only a foil for, and is placed in stark contrast with, a religious-economic issue and the religious-political role of the Pharisees. Moreover, in the overall Üterary context of Mark, the story in 7:1-23 is part of a broader conflict between Jesus and the authorities, beginning with the Pharisees' attacks and escalating into the high priestly plot to capture and execute hirn. Wemiss the point if we focus only or primarily on the scribal concern for purity and do not locate it in the broader conflict between J esus and the J erusalem rulers and their agents - both literarily, in the Markan overall narrative, and historically, assessing the Markan narrative against the background of what we know of the structural social conflict in first century Palestine. Reading Mark 7 in the context öf the particular social conflict at play in Galilee, however, requires greater precision with regard to particular items in the story: (a) The scribes who join the Pharisees in 7: 1 are said explicitly to have "come from Jerusalem." But that does not make the Pharisees localleaders. While operating in an outlying district they are, like the scribes, ultimately representatives of the government in Jerusalem, just as the Herodians are the retainers of the regime of Antipas. (b) When these officers see Jesus' disciples eating with unwashed hands, Mark makes the parenthetical comment in 7:3 that the Pharisees and 7rcXVUC; oi 'IOVOaLOL do not eat unless they wash their hands. There is no reason to read "Jews" here, as if a universal Jewish practice were in focus, rather than simply "Judeans. "14 (c) Then in 7:5 the Pharisees and scribes accuse the disciples not of violating the Law, but of not living according to "the traditions of the elders." In the ensuing counterattack Jesus charges that the Pharisees abandon, indeed make void, thecommandment of God in order to cling to their tradition (7:6-13). Now assuming the consensus that "traditions of the elders" refers to the "oral Torah" propounded by Pharisees and others, it is 13For some recent readings of Mark 7: 1-23 on standard concepts of purity, rituallaw, etc., see Banks: 132-46; Westerholm:62-85; and Booth. 14The only other occurrences of the term 'IovoolioL in Mark are in ch 15, where it appears on the lips of Pilate in the trial and on the lips of soldiers and the chief priests in mockery, as weIl as in the inscription on the cross. Reading these phrases also as "(king of) the Judeans" makes sense given the dramatic reinterpretation Mark is giving to "the messiah" and related terms/concepts and the irony with which he writes repeatedly in ch 15.
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 159 evident from the specific example J esus uses in his indictment that the issue is not simply oral versus written Torah. Jesus does not refer to the Torah explicitly, and there is no indication that he has some written word or "scripture" in mind. That is true even if the text of Mark 7:10 "quoting" Moses has been conformed to the LXX text of Exod 20:12; 21:17 or Deut 5:16. (d) Ironically, modern scholars and translators have "cleaned up" the language of a passage in which J esus is blatantly scatological in slamming the Pharisees' obsession with cleanliness. An ancient copyist apparently anticipated the problem by changing an omicron to an omega in 7: 19, leading many modern theologians to conclude that Mark's Jesus, in good Pauline and Lu~~ fa~hion,. was "declaring all foods clean." But that is not the lectio difjiczlzor, m WhlCh Jesus says in effect that it is the process of what was ingested being evacuated into the outhouse that purifies all foods. Since man~ scholars dismiss Mark 7: 19c as a gloss anyhow, it hardly seems credlble to focus a reading of Mark 7: 1-23 on the traditional English version phrase "Thus he declared all foods clean." The difficulty with grasping the real concern in Mark 7: 1-23 using the old conceptual apparatus is indicated by many interpreters' sense that J esus' first response is almost unrelated to the Pharisees' question. But of course Jesus - in no uncertain terms - is dramatically changing the focus. Jesus charges the Pharisees with making void the actual commandment of God precisely through "the traditions of the elders." In the illustration Jesus offers, the Pharisees and scribes encourage people to devote their property to the temple, which means that that property cannot thereafter be used for other purposes, such as the support of elderly parents, thus blocking the fulfillment of the commandment to "honor your father and your mother." The meaning of the c?mmandment of God is concrete, not just spiritual, inseparably socialeconomlC as well as religious, just as the Pharisaic "traditions of the elders" are economic as well as religious regulations. What is more, the traditions of the elders express the economic interest of the temple in J erusalem at least in the illustration given. But, charges Mark's Jesus, that is counter the commandment of God, which is concerned rather for the welfare of impoverished non-productive elderly people. In Mark 7: 1-23, J esus is attacking the scribes' and Pharisees not primari~y on the matter of purity codes, but for the effects they have on the people m exercising their religiously-Iegitimated role as supervisory retainers ?f the sacerdotal government in Jerusalem. The same indictment is expanded In t~e last part of the harangue (7:15-23), where Jesus indicts the Pharisees as v~olat~rs of the decalogue, the traditional principles of social justice. This readmg IS confirmed later in the Markan narrative, 12:38 through 13:2:
;0
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"Beware of the scribes who, among other things, devour widows' houses" is illustrated by the widow giving an she has. That is, her whole "house,'~ or basis of livelihood, has just been "devoured" as the effect of the scnbes exercising their religio-political-economic role.
The woes against the Pharisees and scribes in Q (Luke 11 ?9-~2) are a similar indictment of effects of their socia! role, not a dispute pnmanly about it is. . still pun·ty c odes. Although Q is now being placed solidly. in Galilee, . . Ch being (mis)read through the remaining vestiges of antl-Judalsm ~n . nstlan exegesis and through an apolitical understanding o~ J~sus .. Ther.e IS slmpl~ no indication in Q of a Gentile mission, and it is Chrlstlan elsegesls to find m Q a condemnation of "all Israel." 15 If anything, oneof the principal concerns of Q is a prophetic mission of the renewal of Israel, as articulated in the last saying, Luke 22:28-30/Matt 19:28: the Twelve a~e to be on twelve thrones not "judging" but "doing justice for" the twelve tnbes of Israel. Most of the prophetic threats of judgment in Q are directed at the Q people. themselve~. Otherwise there is the prophetic larnent over the J erusalem rulmg house In 13:34-35, and the prophetic woes against the Pharisees which we should examine here. Because the issue of the Law, particularly when associated with the Pharisees has loomed so large in Christi an exegesis, scholars have tended to read the' Q woes against the Pharisees as focused on interpretation or understanding of the Law. On the basis of Luke 11 :42 (these you ought to have done without neglecting the others) and on the assumption that cleansing the c~p and tithing were at the heart of Ph~risaic inte~retation, some have argued that the Q-people are not even rejectmg the cultlc .laws her~ ~ut radicalizing the Torah, thus being in effect another J ewish sect In c~mpetltlOn with the Pharisees (Wild; Schultz). At the opposite pole, others Vlew the Q people as redefining purity in ethical terms, reading the woes more as general ethical exhortations (e.g., Kloppenborg). But what if we read these woes more concretely in the context of the structural social conflict in Galilee between Jerusalem rulers ~d the~r retainers, on the one hand, and the Galilean villagers in thelf seffilautonomous communities on the other? In focus is not the Torah and not even purity rules or cultic laws, but the social functions or. role of the Pharisees. In fact only three of the seven indictments even men~lOn or allude to what might be termed laws and/or Pharisaic concerns about purity (11:.3940, 42, 44). But virtually an of them focus on the social role of the scnbes
150n this point and generally on "Q" see Horsley 1991 (esp. 183); 1989b.
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 161 and Pharisees as "retainers" and indict them for one after another of their practices or effects on the people. The first woe, in Luke 11 :39-41, does indeed refer to their concerns about ritual purity. As Neusner has documented, it even appears to be in touch with what would have been particular Pharisaic twists of the time (Neusner 1976). But both Luke's version (Q?), explicitly, and Matthew's version, implicitly, quickly shift the vessels into metaphors: "inside you/they are full of extortion and rapacity." Nothing subtle about that woe. Rhetorically the Pharisees are mocked for their purity concerns, but the primary concern of the Q woe is the rapacious effects of their goveming or supervisory effects on the people. Tithes, the subject of the woe in 11 :42, were hardly a matter of ceremonial law, but of taxes. The reference to "mint, dill , and cumin" is hyperbole and caricature, probably full of sarcasm and ridicule. It is not even clear that such minor items were supposed to be tithed, at least in later rabbinic literature. The charge that the Pharisees were obsessed with even the minor items, not even cUltivated, such as mint and herbs, serves to indicate how rigorous they were about the principal cultivated products subject to tithes/taxes such as grain, on which the very survival of subsistence producers themselves depended. And if the Pharisees or scribes, as representatives of Jerusalem, were still insisting on payment of tithes in addition to the taxes that Galilean peasants were paying to Antipas (including for the major building projects, first in Sepphoris and then Tiberias) and the tribute they were rendering to Caesar, they were indeed neglecting justice and compassion. (Note the clear allusion to the prophetic covenantal exhortation demanding mispat, hesed, sedeq, and emet in such passages as Hosea 4:1; 12:7; Mic 6:8; Zech 7:9: "Thus says Yahweh Sebaoth, 'Render true judgment, show kindness and mercy each to his brother , do not oppress the widow, the fatherless, the sojourner, or the poor .... "'). It is at least conceivable that the "heavy burdens" in 11 :46 included the multiplication of rules by scribal interpretation. More likely, however, the burdens refer to the tithing and other dues which the people owed. One of the functions of the scribes and Pharisees would have been policy for and instruction about tithing. The reference to the Pharisees not touching those burdens with one of their fingers is probably an allusion to how such interpreters-overseers responsible for application of the laws and regulations could help alleviate the burdens through their scribal role, if only they would. The accusation that the Pharisees are like "unmarked graves" which the people walk over unsuspectingly may be the most clever indictment of an. Like the accusation that began with cleansing the outside of the cup, this charge surely picks up on one of the Pharisees' concerns, that about con-
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tamination of ritual purity. But by charging that they themselves are like unmarked graves from which people are exposed to danger unawares, Q's Jesus shifts the focus to political-economic relations: the danger to which the people are subjected unawares comes from the Pharisees themselves. As for building the tombs of the prophets in 11:47-48, the custodians of such memorials to the dissident figures of earlier times would have been precisely retainers such as the Pharisees. But it is more than irony or hypocrisy or mystification for the representatives of the rulers to be cultivating the sacred memory of those who had protested against earlier rulers, and perhaps paid with their lives. The final indictment is the most comprehensive and the one that comes closest to dealing with the Torah. Even without a definitive reconstruction of the original Q text, we can discern that Matthew's accusation of shutting the kingdom of heaven (23:13) and Luke's accusation of "taking away the keys of knowledge" (11:52) are parallel and even synonymous or equivalent expressions. As in prophetic passages (e.g., Isa 1:2-3), "knowledge" here is covenant keeping, which would be synonymous with living under or according to the rule or kingship of God, the possibility of which has been blocked by the Pharisees, but opened now with the ministry of Jesus. Throughout these woes in Q/Luke 11 :39-52, the focus is not on the Torah, but on the political-economic-religious role of the scribes and Pharisees. Jesus indicts them for the ways in which they, partly in their role as official interpreters of the laws, were having detrimental effects on the lives of the people. The indictments include mocking or sarcastic references to the Pharisees' special concerns about purity codes, but the focus is clearly on the effects of their role as official interpreters and intermediaries for the Jerusalem government. Thus we find in both Mark and Q condemnations of the scribes and Pharisees for the detrimental social-economic effects they have on the people, apparently just by virtue of their social-political role as retainers. Summary Implications:
,'i
I,
In both Mark 7 and again in the Q woes against the Pharisees, Jesus is apparently appealing to the basic Israelite covenantal tradition, ""the commandment of God" or fundamental covenant-keeping. Perhaps tqis indicates how we should reconceptualize what may have been happening in Galilee following the take-over by the Hasmoneans and under continuing rule or influence by the Jerusalem authorities. If our assumption of continuing Israelite tradition in Galilee under foreign imperial rule is correct, then Jesus and other Galileans were rooted in Israelite tradition that had much in com-
HORSLEY: CONQUEST AND SOCIAL CONFLICT IN GALILEE 163 mon with the official traditions followed in Jerusalem and advocated by scribes and Pharisees. But the official J erusalem-based tradition and the popular Galilean tradition were not the same, despite sharing the basic covenantal heritage, and they functioned to legitimate and advance different interests. The high priestly families whose "base was the Temple and the intellectuallegal retainers representing the temple-state apparatus understandably worked to advance their own interests, although after the Roman take-over that was entangied with, dependent on, and to a degree in competition with, Roman imperial interests. Galilean villagers and townspeople, on the other hand, as illustrated perhaps in Mark 7:6-13 and Luke/Q 11:52, would have appealed to the Israelite covenantal tradition against the practices and effects of those who ostensibly shared that covenantal tradition. It was, among other things, a struggle over who could claim Israelite covenantal tradition and in what way. Insofar as the rabbis who later established domination in Galilee were the direct or indirect successors of the Pharisees and scribes based in Jerusalem, then scribal-rabbinic groups were the historical winners of that struggle in Galilee. As of the middle of the first century CE however neither "Judaism" nor "Christianity" existed in Galilee. That i~, neither 'what we know later emerged as rabbinic Judaism, which was more than a "religion," and what we know emerged as proto-orthodox Christianity, which was at least a "religion," existed yet in general, hence could not have been forces in Galilee. Some of the historical phenomena which may be relevant to the later emergence of rabbinic Judaism and proto-orthodox Christianity can be approached in the broader context of the Judean and Roman conquests of Galilee and the continuing efforts by J erusalem institutions and groups to influence or control Galilean affairs. Such efforts at control were occasionally resisted by certain Galileans on whom we every so often have windows, such as in the resistance to Herod of 40-37 BCE, the insurrection led by the popular king Judas in 4 BCE, the Jesus movement(s) which began in the 30s, and the highly fragmented assertion of regional independence in 66-67 CE. Yet there is no evidence of any unifying institution, religious or political, anywhere on the Galilean scene until rabbinic Judaism beg an to consolidate its influence in late antiquity, and even then there remained both Christi an and pagan communities particularly in the cities.
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
Freyne, Sean Galilee from Alexander the Great to Hadrian: A Study 0/ Second Temple 1980 Judaism. Wilmington, DE: Glazier. Galilee, Jesus, and the Gospels. Philadelphia: Fortress. 1988
SHIFTING RULERS / JURISDICTIONS IN GALILEE: late second century BCE: Seleucid dec1ine and Iturean control 104-63 63-47 47-40 40-37 37-4 4 BCE-39 CE39-44 44-54 54-66 66-67 67ca. 200
Hasmoneans shifting Roman and (rival) Hasmoneans (Hyrcanus II - Antipater) Herod struggle between Herod/Romans & Antigonus/Parthians Herod (with high priesthood weakened but still intact) Antipas (with high priesthood still intact) Agrippa I (with high priesthood still intact) Roman governors (high priesthood still intact) Sepphoris/West, Roman gov.; Tiberias/East, Agrippa II independent, with high priesthood asserting authority Roman authorities Rabbinic Patriarchate (recognized by Rome?)
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01 Q.
Philadelphia: Fortress.
Lenski, Gerhard 1966 Power and Privilege: A Theory McGraw.
01 Social Stratification.
New York:
Levine, Lee 1. 1979 "The Jewish Patriarch (Nasi) in Third Century Palestine." pp. 619-88 in ANRWn, 19.2. 1989 The Rabbinic Class 01 Roman Palestine. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary. "The Sages and the Synagogue in Late Antiquity." pp. 201-22 in The 1992 Galilee in Late Antiquity. Ed. Lee 1. Levine. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary. . Meyers, Carol L. 1983 "Of Seasons and Soldiers: A Topological Appraisal of the Premonarchlc Tribes of Galilee." BASOR 252:47-59.
Meyers, Eric M., J. F. Strange, and C. L. Meyers 1981 Excavations at Ancient Meiron. Cambridge: ASOR. Moxnes, Halvor 1988 The Economy olthe Kingdom: Social Conflict and Economic Relations in Luke's Gospel. Philadelphia: Fortress. Neusner, Jacob "The Demise of Normative Judaism." ludaism 15:230-40. 1966 1973 From Politics to Piety. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. 1976 "'First Cleanse the Inside': The Halakic Background of the Controversy Saying." NTS 22:486-95. 1979 "The Formation of Rabbinic Judaism: Yavneh (Jamnia) from A.D. 70 to 100." pp. 3-42 in ANRWn, 19.2. 1981 ludaism: The Evidence olthe Mishnah. Chicago: University of Chicago.
1983
Safrai, S. 1976
"Varieties of Judaism in the Formative Age." pp. 59-89 in Formative ludaism, Second Series: Religious, Historical, and Literary Studies. BJS 41. Chico, CA: Scholars. "The Synagogue." pp. 908-44 in The lewish People in the First Century, Vo12. Ed. S. Safrai, M. Stern. Assen: Van Gorcum.
Saldarini, Anthony J. 1975 "Johanan ben Zakkai's Escape from Jerusalem: Origin and Development of a Rabbinic Story." JSl6:189-204. 1988 Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian Society: A Sociological Approach. ·Wilmington, DE: Glazier. Sanders, E. P. 1985 lesus and ludaism. Philadelphia: Fortress. Schaefer, Peter 1979 "Die Flucht Johanan b. Zakkai aus Jerusalem und die Gruendung des 'Lehrhauses' in Jabne." pp. 43-101 in ANRWn, 19.2. Schultz, Siegfried 1972 Q: Die Spruchquelle der Evangelisten. Zurich: Theologischer Verlag. Schürer, Emil -1890 A History olthe lewish People in the Time T. & T. Clark.
01 Christ.
5 Vo1s. Edinburgh:
Schwartz, Stephen 1991 "Israel and the Nations Roundabout: 1 Maccabees and the Hasmonean Expansion." llS 42:16-38. Scott, James C. "Protest and Profanation: Agrarian Revolt and the Little Tradition." 1977 Theory and Society 4:1-38, 211-46. Sievers, Joseph 1990 The Hasmoneans and their Supporters: From Mattathias to the Death lohn Hyrcanus I. SFSHJ 6. Atlanta: Scho1ars.
01
Smallwood, Mary E. 1976 The lews Under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Smith, Jonathan Z. 1990 Drudgery Divine. Chicago: University of Chicago. 1991 "Zealots and Sicarii, Their Origins and Relations." HTR 64:1-19. Stager, Lawrence E. 1989 "The Song of Deborah: Why Some Tribes Answered the Call and Others Did Not." BAR 15:1-11.
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Tadmor, H. 1983
"Some Aspects of the History of Samaria during the Biblical Period. " Jerusalem Cathedra 3:1-11.
Theissen, Gerd 1991 The Gospels in Context. Minneapolis: Fortress. Wild, Robert "The Encounter between Pharisaic and Christian Judaism: Some Early 1985 Gospel Evidence." NovT 27: 105-24.
CHAPI'ER 7
ONCE MORE - THE HELLENISTS, HEBREWS, AND STEPHEN: CONFLICTS AND CONFLICT-MANAGEMENT IN ACTS 6-7 Torrey Seland Volda College
Westerho1m, S. 1978 Jesus and Scribal Authority. Lund: Gleerup.
Introduction The Lukan Acts of the Apostles is replete with conflicts, and some of the most discussed in recent research are those recorded in Acts 6-7. Crucial questions here are: What are the issues at stake in the conflicts narrated? Who were engaged in the various scenarios? How were the conflicts managed? The present paper deals with these texts, asking how they might throw light on the issues of recruitment, conquest, and conflict in Judaism and early Christianity in the first century CE. Hence, the paper deals with what may happen when a new social group appears, challenging its parent group and its cherished values; that is, what may happen when nonconformity occurs, and its representatives are considered overstepping the aceeptable limits of toleranee. The Acts of the Apostles eontains several texts related to conflict, among these about 30 texts concern J,ewish-Christian eonflicts. Tbe primary texts foeused on here are Aets 6-7, whieh eontain the reeords of two eonfliets. Aeeording to Aets 6: 1-7, there arose a conflict between the "Hellenists" and the "Hebrews" over the daily distributions. The twelve apostles intervened, summoned the disciples, and seven men were elected to administer these distributions. Among these was Stephen, a man "full of faith and of the Holy Spirit" (Acts 6:5). Aeeording to Acts 6: 8ff, then, another eonfliet arose: members of the Diaspora synagogues in Jerusalem entered into a dispute with Stephen. When they eould not tolerate the wisdom and the spirit with whieh he spoke, they "seeretly instigated men" (rorE inrißciAoV &vöpm;;) who accused hirn of blasphemy. Aecording to Aets 6:12, "the people and the elders and the scribes" were stirred up, and they "seized hirn and brought hirn be fore the council. " Finally he was taken outside the city and stoned (Kat 8Kßa'AovrEC;; e~w rfjc;; 7rO'AEWC;; 8'AdJoßo'Aovv). From a sociological point of view, the group of people called "the
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Christians" (Acts 11 :26) or "the Nazarenes" (Acts 24:5) started out as a coalition of the type called a faction (Seland 1987; Malina 1988). After the death of Jesus, the core group stayed together, and, as time went by, expanded and established themselves as corporate groups, that is, as groups with fixed rules conceming interest and entrance, and with a structured leadership. But both at the time when J esus was among them and in the immediate decades after Jesus' death, they lived as groups encapsulated into the larger structures of Jewish society. According to Acts, they were considered subjects to the Jewish system ofjurisdiction by themselves as well as bythe other Jews. But the upsurge of temporary coalitions in a setting where corporate gIOUp formations dominate is liable to cause some friction, not at least because coalitions are often considered as rivals by the corporate groups (Boissevain 1978:198ft). To many scholars, the question of the historical value of the Lukan records was laid dead years aga (cf. Gasque), while to others, Luke is still a reliable historian in many aspects of the storit~s (Hemer; Larsson 1990). Nowadays there is an increasing interest in the literary plot of Luke in preference to questions of historicity . Furthermore, studies of Luke-Acts are also benefiting from recent social anthropological studies (Neyrey 1991). The procedure chosen in the present paper contains the following elements: First, I present a model appropriate to explain the specific countermeasures taken or considered pertinent when, as recorded by the Lukan Acts of the Apostles, the early Christian groups appeared on the scene in the first century CE; second, I investigate Acts 6-7 by performing a elose reading of the narrative, testing the model on the specific conflicts; finally, I comment on the historical plausibility of the narrative. 1
Toward a Model of Conflict Management The conflicts of Acts are often treated as cases of persecutions. "Conflict" is an ambiguous term,2 but so is "persecution." Conflict represents a elash of I The sociological model on conflict management presented in the first section is heavily indebted to arecent book by P. Sederberg (1989). In this I present so me material from my 1991 dissertation "Jewish Vigilantism in the First Century C.E.: A Study of Selected Texts in Philo and Luke on Jewish Vigilante Reactions against Nonconformers to the X" (Seland 1991) as published in 1995 (Seland 1995). 2Cf. Turner 1986: 177: "To my constant surprise, one of the most controversial issues in conflict theory is the definition of conflict . . . . A quick review of the conflict theory literature will produce a surprisingly diverse array of terms denoting different aspects of conflict: hostilities, war, competition, antagonism, tension, contradiction, quarrels, disagreements, inconsistencies, controversy, violence, opposition, revolution, dispute, and many other terms. "
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 171 interests instigated by some sort of deviance from accepted norms, often Some of these resulting in specific kinds of countermeasures. The term "persecution" cotintermeasures may be ca1led persecutions. represents a perspective on conflicts set from the side of those persecuted, and it might characterize a very vast repertoire of measures. Every society has some kind of rules set by the system to regulate the use of coercion, whether performed by the regime or by private individuals. Crime mayaiso be considered as a means of social control (Black 1983). In the present context, however, we are concerned with the issue of conflict management as a me ans of social control performed by' the dominant system of power, wh.ether that be the regime at large or some group authorities. Accordingly, as the category "persecution" represents the view of those "persecuted," in the following I prefer the label "conflict management. " Since all societies are supposed to have some sort of rules, written or unwritten, agreed to by the system of the society concerned to regulate the interactions of its members, there will also be some sorts of dissidence: Dissident groups deviate from, and perhaps attack, the dominant system of power and value in a community. No community is blessed (or cursed, if we believe that dissent is needed for innovation and adaptation) with complete consensus, but in most political communities certain values will be dominant and these will reinforce, by and large, a particular distribution of power. Those who believe themselves deprived under such a distribution, either because it discriminates against their values or their power is insufficient to accomplish their aspirations, will come into conflict with the dominant order (Sederberg 1989:49).
This situation implies a conflict, though not necessarily a violent one, and the problem of conflict management arises. According to the kind of conflict occurring, the dominant system's means of conflict management will be various and multi-faceted. As there are different ways dissidents may deviate and perpetrate their conflicts, so there are parallel and various ways the regime concerned may try to control the situation. In the following,' the term coercion is used to denote "acts intended to harm others or their valued possessions " (Sederberg : 11). Such adefinition includes a vast array of acts from the slight and subtle to the extensive and overt. But common to all coercive acts is that they are intended to harm in one way or another. What constitutes harm, however, may be further defined in light of the particular societies studied, that is, it is culturally dependent (Sederberg: 14-15). Coercion is further elosely related to violence and force, but these latter terms represent two different kinds of coercion: "Acts of coercion that vio-
/
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late the limits within a particular community may be termed 'violence, ' whereas acceptable coercion may be caHed 'force'" (Sederberg: 13). Some coercion may be acceptable in light of a particular society' s code ?f law, but the acceptable degree of coercion may be different from commumty to. co~ munity. The important element is that outbreaks of violence do not slgmfy the breakdown of law and order or of politics, but politics, considered as all deliberate efforts to control mutual inter action , determines which forms of coercion are considered to be violent.
Conflicts and Conflict Management: A Model This model encompasses various actions of conflict management, that is, various strategies for social control, as performed by both the official regime and its representatives, as weH as by private persons taking the law into their own hands. The kinds of strategies realized will be dependent on several factors, especially the kind of deviance concerned, the strength of the devia~ts, the strength of the regime, and/or its ability or willingness to stand up agamst the perceived threats. Furthermore, the strategies of the regime ~ay .be de~e~d ent upon the degree of support in the population. When a r~glme IS u~wdhng or unable to take repressive counteractions against the devlants, the Issue of vigilantism arises. When the counteractions become indiscriminate with respect to target and means, terrorism appears. The various me~s of conflict management may be characterized as measures of accommodatlOn, measures of official disciplinary punishments, and as measures of violence, each group containing several subcategories of measures.
Measures of accommodation Conservative change. Just as dissidents may consider their situation to be acceptable even if it represents some deprivation, a regime may ele~t to accommodate the discontented: "Faced with discontent, whether actIvely expressed or not, the regime may attempt to identify and address the causes, an alternative that might be called conservative change" (Sederberg:88). Forms of reforms and/or increased political and cultural autonomy may be granted to undercut the potential for further discontent and ensui~g unres.t. The Emperors' granting of several privileges to the Jews in the DIaspora m the first century CE most probably represents such measures (Rajak 1985; Smallwood 1981). Yet Sederberg notes that: "Conservative change, however, presumes that the regime controls sufficient resources to (1) redi.stribute to .the dissatisfied, while maintaining the support of most of the estabhshment
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 173 and (2) control those who remain or become disgruntled" (88). The problem of the Jews in both Alexandria and Caesarea in the first century CE may represent cases where these factors were not balanced (Smallwood:235ff).
Manipulation. A strategy of manipulation is usually attempted when a regime tries to convince the discontented that their conditions are, after all , not so bad, and/or that their situation will improve without any substantial changes being realized by the regime. Such procedures are often attempted in modern political campaigns. In ancient Palestine some of the speeches reported by J osephus in the last years before the Great War may represent such manipulative strategies (e.g., J. W. 2:345-405; 5:362-419). Scapegoating. If dissidence and discontent cannot be reduced or nullified by, for example, manipulation, the strategy of scapegoating may be invoked. This strategy serves to turn the attention of the discontented away from the real problem to some substituting issues. The most infamous ex ampIe in history is probably the Nazis' scapegoating of the Jews. But it may be applied on much lesser scales. Its functions, however, are often considered to strengthen the inner unity of a group or a community by scapegoating some extern al issues (Coser 1956:49ff, 107ff; Sederberg:89). Encouraging rituals of rebellion. Sederberg also notes that: "Finally, a regime may encourage certain rituals of rebellion that allow people to release tension without directly challenging the basic structure of authority" (89). Such strategies are often short-time strategies and are seldom effective in the long ron. Measures of official disciplinary punishments The measures dealt with' above are mainly those purposed to tranquil the dissidents without any further coercive measures instigated against them. Between these measures and those of a violent nature to be dealt with below, belong those coercive measures prescribed by the codes of law in the particuhlr community concerned. These are most often imposed by way of some official and forensic procedures. The cases might be brought before a court, and a verdict might be given sentencing the perceived "criminal" to some sort of punishment. The available punishments might extend from fines to various physical penalties to capital punishment. According to H. Goldin, there are seven classifications of crime in the Mosaic system, and seven corresponding methods of punishments: crimes . punishable by death, by karetlexcision, by banishment, by flagellation, by the
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lex talionis, by fines, and by penal slavery (cf. Goldin:14f; Blinzler:147-161; Forkman 1972; Juster 1914; Horbury 1985:13-38). Most of these are expressly provided for by the Mosaic Laws, flagellati~n being a. pro~able exception.3 Later rabbinic traditions add three more pumshments: Impnsonment, death at the Hand of Heaven, and "death at the hands of the mob, or zealous persons" (Goldin:16; cf. M Sanh 9,6). We might categorize the Mosaic punishments as: economic reprisals (fines, penal slavery), social banishments (karet/excision, banishment), corporal punishments (flagellation, death). . . The Hebrew Bible (HB) includes three methods of executlOn, whlle a fourth is added by rabbinic traditions. The four are: stoning, burning, decapitation, and strangulation. The last method is not prescribed in the Torah.4 Of these, then, stoning is the one used most frequently, then burning and decapitation. . From the side of the official authorities, such measures would be conceived as disciplinary measures; by those suffering they might be characterized as persecutions if they, for instance, disagreed with the concept of deviance applied or with the severity of penalties, or if they did not acknowledge the authorities inflicting them.
3F1agellation is perhaps mentioned in Deut 21 :18; 22:18, and according to Deut 2~:13 consists of up to 40 strokes (cf. 2 Cor 11:24; m.Sanh.; m. Makk.). Josephus mentlOns the punishment in Ant. 4:21-23 and Philo in Spec. 2:28. . . 4Strangulation is not mentioned in the RB, nor in the works o~ ~hilo. C~ncermng ~e Mishnaic roles for strangulation, see m. Sanh. 11 ,1, where It IS prescnbed ~or SlX offenses. According to Goldin, "The Jewish jurists contend that when the Mos~c L~w fails to specify the manner of execution of one condemned to death, it nat.urally ~phes that it should be by the most humane method possible, one wh ich could avo.ld marnng the body, namely, strangulation" (37). Decapitation is alm~st as scarce 1~ ~e RB as strangulation. M. Sanh. 9,1 includes two crimes to be pumshed ~y decapltat~on: communal apostasy and willful murder. Neither is explicitly presented m that way m the RB, but they can be argued by way of inference. According to Deut 13:.16, the apost~tes are to be smitten by the edge of the sword. In several cases where willful murder IS dealt with (Gen 9:6; Ex 21:12, 14, 23; Lev 24:17, 21; Num 35:16-21; Deut 19:11-12) the Law is silent with regard to the way of punishment. See also Goldin (36).
Measures ofviolence Measures like manipulation and scapegoating suffer from the fact that they fai! to address the main sources of discontent. Dissidents with radical agendas are unlikely to be satisfied with reform or deflected by rituals of rebellion or manipulation. Hence, the more radical the agendas, the more o ffici al disciplinary punishments might radical the countermeasures. succeed, but they are very much dependent on the judicial power of the regime concerned. When confronted with intensifying protest that cannot be either accommodated or deflected, most regimes would feel compelled to use coercive repression or even violence to maintain the dominant order (Sederberg:90). I would here modify Sederberg's model and label such violent countermeasures establishment violen ce and terrorism, but retain the division of the agents as being officials - persons representing the regime or private persons. These are the countermeasures most often labelIed persecutions.
Establishment violence: vigilantism. The ready use of violence to maintain or defend the. status quo is a form of behavior here to be called establishment violen ce or vigilantism (Sederberg 60f; Rosenbaum & Sederberg 1976). Violence is a somewhat elusive word, but, as stated above, it is here used to denote "acts of coercion that violate the limits within a particular community" - it is illegitimate coercion. In investigations of history of law the term "self-redress" is often used for the kind of actions here termed vigilantism. Furthermore, "self-redress" or "self-help" is often used denoting the oldest and most primary form of punishment brought upon persons who deviated from the accepted norms of their societies. 5 In cases of murder, for instance, it was up to the family of the victim to avenge the misdeed. By the establishment of greater formation of communities and the development of a more "advanced" form of jurisdiction, "self-redress" was not immediately abolished or denied, but it underwent some regulation. In the further development of law and jurisdiction some remnants of the institution of self-redress were retained as a right of self-defense in certain circumstances. 6 These are also elose to what might be termed "preventive measures": measures to be taken in order to prevent some atrocious crimes. But these last-mentioned forms of what might also be 5"A system of self-redress, in the form of private vengeance preceded everywhere the establishment of a regular judicature." Cf. Cohen 1955:107. On this issue in the ancient Greek and Roman world, see further Latte 1968:262-314; Kästler 1968. 6Ex 22:2 may be pointed to as representing such a case. Cf. Cohen 1955: 11lf. See also the oider study by Vogelstein 1904:513-553.
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called "regulated or legalized self-help" must be distinguished from the form of "self-redress" proscribed in the political system of the societies concerned. Defined in this way, self-redress is not something to be found only in old "primitive" societies before the establishment of regular judicature. In communities where the regular way of prosecuting non-conformers is hindered by some higher authorities, as for example in occupied nations or in pariah groups, or where conservative elements of the population consider the regime to be too tolerant or ineffective, the only way to fulfill the demands of their own law is "to take the Law in their own hands." Rosenbaum and Sederberg differentiate between three forms of vigilantism according to the kind of targets: crime-control vigilantism, social-group vigilantism, and regimecontrol vigilantism (Rosenbaum and Sederberg 1976:9ff). Recent times have seen several cases of vigilantism where conservative elements of the population consider their values threatened by "modernizing" attitudes, and socialanthropological research has also focused the occurrence of killing by selfredress in societies relatively elose to the present time (e.g., Little and Sheffield 1983; Heald 1986; Mazrui; Boehm 1984). The J ews of both the Diaspora and in the occupied land of Israel can be considered as having lived in situations concerned with social frontiers . Since vigilantism has been characterized as typical for what may be called a frontier mentality, this model commends itself for a study of contlicts among first-century Jews (Seland 1990). Recent studies of contlicts in the setting of present-day Israel have also applied the model of vigilantism (Sprinzak 1987).
Terrorism. Definitions of terrorism are controversial (Gibbs 1989). The definition applied here is taken over from P. Sederberg. He points out two aspects as constitutive for terrorism that both represent undiscriminating features: "Terrorism may be seen as a coercive tactic used by the contending sides of a political struggle that deliberately violates . . . two rules of war. Noncombatants are the targets of terrorism, and the means chosen to destroy these targets are relatively indiscriminate" (1989:31). Accordingly, terrorism denotes not so much the severity of the nieasures as the indiscriminateness with regard to targets and means. Terrorism may thus consist of a wide array of means. Establishment violence, according to the definitions presented in the present study, need not be terrorist, nor is it confined to the regime. In addition, establishment terrorism need not be a form of violence since it is conceivable that a regime could carry out a terrorist policy that conforms with the dominant definition of acceptable coercion (Sederberg:59). Some terrorism mayaIso be termed vigilante terrorism. That would be . terrorism performed by individuals or groups not representing the elites or political structures, but those who, in support of the status quo, apply
, ;
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indiscriminate violent countermeasures. Recent research of "modern" terrorism indicate that vigilante violence against racial, cultural, or political graups is most likely to degenerate into a type of terrorism (Sederberg 61t). In some studies the label terrorism or terrorists has been used to characterize episodes and groups active in the first century CE Jewish world. Rich~rd ~. HO,~sley, without being too precise in his definitions, categorized the Slcarll as terrorists" (Horsley 1979; 1987; Horsley & Hanson 1985), and the same category has been taken over by David C. Rapoport in several studies where the Sicarii are presented as an ancient parallel to more recent cases of terror~sm (1983; 1984; 1988). Holy terrorism may seem strange to us, but accordmg to Rapoport, "prior to the French Revolution it was the dominant, perhaps only form ofterror" (1988:195).
Summary The model of conflict management presented thus contains several components. ?n. the one hand, the handling of a conflict by the dominant system of power IS mfluenced by the kind of conflict realized; the kind of contlict realized is actu~ized because of the kind and degree of relative deprivation feIt by the devlants or by the value sought for in their dissidence. On the ?ther hand, the kind of counter-measures actualized by the authorities is also mfl~enced by several other social circumstances: the general support of the d~v~ants; the general support enjoyed by the authorities; and their ability and wIlhngness to stand up against the deviants are among the most prominent.
Conjlicts and Conjlict Management in Acts 6-7 The best way to test the above model would be to investigate all the conflict texts of the New Testament. Such a procedure is, however, far beyond the sc?pe of the present study. In the present context, therefore, I will restrict thlS study to the Acts of the Apostles and the contlicts recorded in Acts 6-7. . An important question to be raised here, however, is whether we might mclude the Gospel of Luke in our reading. As the inscribed author "Luke" exp~icitl~ points back to his former volume in the preface of Acts (Acts 1: 1 the mscnbed reader, Theophilus, most probably knew that work. According to my opinion, however, we are not compelled to suppose that every first century CE reader of Acts "knew" the Gospel. Acts may have been, and still may be read, as a free-standing entity. 7 This me ans that in our elose reading
h;
7This may be sUI?ported by historical arguments. According to Aune (1987: 117) the papyrus scrolls came In stock sizes with maximum lengths of 35 to 40 feet. The Gospel of
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of Acts we can treat it as a single work even though it was conceived by the real author as the second of a' two volume project. If a further investigation of the historical aspects of the issues dealt with here are to be carried out, the wider context of Acts, ineluding the Gospel of Luke, has to be taken account of (cf. section III below). The present section represents a elose reading of Acts 6-7, applying some insights gained from recent socül.l-anthropological research. Hence we do not consider questions of tradition and redaction but deal with the impressions createdby the symbolic universe represented by the text of Acts .1-7. As language signifies social functions it is also a bearer of social values (Malina 1991). A elose reading of Acts might be conceived of as totally decontextualized - read without a view to its contextual surroundings. But as Malina has made elear, any reading of the Bible, at least in the Western part of the warld, would probably be "socially contextualized into the realm of 'religion'" (1991 :21), a concept not very he1pful here. Acts, the text dealt with here, is to be approached considering not so much the Western understanding of religion, but the more congruent social world of the first century CE. The scenarios which commend themselves, I suggest, can to a large degree be taken from social-anthropological research of the Mediterranem world (Malina 1981; Seland 1992). As modern Western categories and attitudes toward violence may not be compatible to those of Mediterranean societies, they may thus hamper our understanding of such actions. This view has been presented as applicable to Western interpretation of non-Western societies today, and should be considered equally pertinent to interpretations of ancient societies. Muslim scholars have argued that Western conceptions are not always compatible with the acceptance of violence in many contemporary non-Western societies, and several recent studies of both Muslim and other non-Western societal attitudes toward violence demonstrate this incompatibility (Ba-Yunus 1981; P~tai 1983; Black-Michaud 1980; Mazrui 1976; Boehm 1984; Parkin 1986). Hence one must consider specific aspects of the first century Mediterranean world to understand the nature and function of violence in that world. Recent social-anthropological research has provided us with several models which enable us to deal with scenarios relevant for understanding the actions and· related values at wark in the Lukan Acts (e.g., Malina 1981; Neyrey 199D. The first century Mediterranean world was an agonistic society replete with conflicts in which the values of honor and shame played pivotal roles. As the focus of the present study is conflict and conflict management, we will pay
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 179 special attention to the issues of honor and shame in Acts 6-7 (cf. Malina & Neyrey 1991).
The Conflict 0/ Acts 6:1-7: "Hellenists" and "Hebrews" The following sections cannot provide an extensive exegesis of Acts 6-7. The primary. focus is on the issues of conflict and conflict management.' Extensive readings and exegesis o(Acts 6-7 may be found elsewhere (e.g., Schneider 1980; Pesch 1986). The conflict of Acts 6: 1-7 is most often dealt with separately from the conflict of Acts 6:8-7:60. Acts 6:1-7, however, sets the scene for the latter conflict as Stephen is a central person in both. The conflicts are, as we shall see, very incongruous: one has to distinguish between them, but not to separate them from each other.
First reading: the nature 0/ the conjlicts The repart about the first conflict starts out with a short description of the setting: "Now in these days when the disciples were increasing in numbers, the Hellenists murmured . . ." CEv oe 7m((; T]P.iPO!L((; 70!V70!L((; 7rAT/(}VVOV7WV 7WV P.0!(}T/7WV e,,/ive7o ,,/o,,/,,/vap.o((; 7WV 'EA.A.T/VW7WV . . . ).8 A reader would recognize the first part of the expression (KO!t ev 7dL((; T]P.iPO!L((; 7Ci.V7aL((;) from 1: 15 and would probably take it as a rather loose way of dating. This impression is strengthened by its attachment to 5:42 which states that "every day in the temple and in the household they did not cease teaching and preaching Jesus as the Christ." But the narrator draws attention to the fact that in these days 7rA.T/(}VVOV7WV 7WV P.Ci.(}T/7WV. This, one could suppose, was the result of the teaching and preaching of the apostles and the other Christians (cf. 2:14ff; 3:12ff; 5:14; cf. Jerve1l1972a:45). The readers are left to wonder, however, whether the notice about the increase in the number of disciples is a kind of dating, or whether it is given as apart of the reason for the following conflict. Readers would know from the preceding narrative that the Christi ans lived in great harmony (4:32-34), having all in common, leaving no one in need. They would also know, however, that this was not the whole story. The episode of Ananias and Sapphira (5:1-11) had proved that there were adherents who were dishonest. They were, however, severely punished. Hence, 7rA.T/(}VVOV7WV 7WV P.Ci.(}T/7WV is probably meant to provide some of the reasons for the ensuing conflict, and the readers' atten-
Luke and the Book of Acts can be estimated to ca. 35 and 32 feet respectively. Hence they most probably were published separately. 8Unless otherwise stated, the translation is taken fram the RSV.
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tion would be drawn to the nature of the conflict and the resulting countermeasures. The conflict is given as "the Hellenists murmured against the Hebrews because their widows were neglected in the daily distributions" (s"(iveTo "(o"("(vap.oe; TWV 'EAA'Y/VWTWV 7rpOe; TOUe; 'EßpaLOVe;, ön 7rapeOeWpouvTO sV TV ÖLaKovLQl TV KaO'Y/p.epLvV ai xf]paL aVTwv). Who were the "Hellenists" and the "Hebrews?" What was the issue in the conflict? Most readers, especially New Testament scholars, read it as denoting a conflict among the Christians themselves. Some, however, have argued that it was a conflict in the Jewish Jerusalem community at large in which the Christians interfered with their solution (HyldahI1974; Walter 1983). In any case, the focus of the narrative has been primarilyon the Christians. The other Jews have only come into view as they interfere with the activities of the Christi ans or as audiences for the Christi an kerygma. This impression is strengthened by the expression dealt with above, the 7rA'Y/Ovv6vTWV TWV p.aO'Y/Twv (Larsson 1983:129-130). The main problem, according to "the Hellenists," was "that their widows were neglected in the daily distribution" (ön 7rapeOeWpouvTO sv rv ÖLaKOVLQl TV KaO'Y/p.epLvV ai XTJpm aVTwv). It is not stated who arranged for this "daily distribution," hence those to blame are not explicitly disclosed. The service was probably provided for by the Hebrews, not by the apostles personally (Haenchen 1971 :262) since they say that "it is not right that we should give up preaching the word of God oLaKoveLv Tpa7ritaLe;." Furthermore, it is not explicitly stated of what the &aKove'iv Tpa7ritaLe; consisted. It should probably not be read as denoting serving the daily food at tables since it is hard to see how the Hellenists' widows could be passed over in that context. However, if this neglect is what is implied in the expression, the seriousness of the charge would be considerably greater since that would mean exposing the Hellenistic widows to public shame. The conflict narrated should be considered one of honor and shame. The widows are by definition persons who are very vulnerable. The term "Hellenists" most probably categorizes them as Jews who speak Greek (Hengel 1975; Pesch, Gerhart, and Schilling 1979). As such, they might have come to Jerusalem from the Diaspora to live and die in the Holy City. As widows they were deprived of their husbands, being dependent on public charity. Their deprivation at the oLaKove'iv Tpa7ritaLe; would represent a challenge to the Christian Hellenists at large by the "Hebrews, " the resident Aramaic/Hebrew-speaking Jewish Christians. Since the individual in this kind of culture is embedded in his qr her group, an insult against some of the members of a group represents an insult against the group. As the conflict implied means for living, it could be interpreted as achallenge against their right of membership in the larger community, here the Christians. The
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 181 reader would thus notice that the conflict was not only one over food, but concerned the co-existence of two groups within the Christian community. . Critical readers, especially "expert readers" like New Testament scholars, have conjectured whether there may have been some inherent theological reasons for the conflict. As Greek-speaking people they may have had separate gatherings (Hengel); there might also have been theological disagreements. 9 Conflicts in ideological settings often have ideological underpinnings. These historical aspects, however, are left open for the readers. Their focus is immediately drawn to the characters who involved themselves in the conflict by assembling all TWV p.aO'Y/Twv. The characterization used, oi owoeKa, is used here for the first time in Acts. Readers would know, however, that they constituted the supreme leaders of the Christians (Acts 1: 15-26). Their authority was grounded in their personal knowledge of J esus and especially in their role as witnesses of his resurrection. They were to be considered as S7rLaK07rOL (1 :20); they were witnesses and apostles. The severity of the conflict is thus disclosed by the interference of these supreme, honorable apostles, oi owoeKa. Furthermore, the proposal set forth as a solution represented probably the acknowledgement of the rights of the "Hellenists" and thus a restitution of their honor. The proposal is given that the congregation (7rA'ijOOe;) should choose seven men "full of the spirit and of wisdom whom we may appoint to this duty" (6:3). The conflict was one of daily distributions; the solution that they should select seven men &aKove'iv Tpa7ritaLe;. While the latter expression is most often translated "to serve tables" (cf. RSV), that is, to provide the meals, it may denote an office more concerned with financial maUers (rpa7reta = financial institution, bank, cf. Bruce 1974; Frövig 1949). Be that as it may, the important issue to the readers would be the identity of the seven elected men. They all had Greek names; two of them are singled out by some further characterizations. The last one is characterized as "a proselyte of Antioch," the first one is named Stephen and was &vopa 7rAiJp'Y/e; 7rLaTeWe; KaI. 7rVevp.aTOe; Ct"(LOV. Stephen will be given a central role in the following narrative, and readers would notice the characterization given as denoting a man perfectly fitting the qualifications claimed for the seven. That fact would single hirn out as a prospective leader, a man of great honor. But who were the seven men? What does it indicate that they all had Greek names? To the readers, the conflict was one between "Hellenists" and "Hebrews. " The Greek names would locate the seven among the former. This would be the immediate impression, since no other Christians in Acts 16 are presented as having a Greek name. The readers would know, however, 9S ee Hengel 1975, Schenke: 176ff, but also the more restrictive view of Larsson 1987.
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that in Jerusalem there lived Jews "from every mition under heaven" (2:5), and many of these had become Christi ans (2:41). The selection of the seven would then indicate that they belonged to the "Hellenists. "10 To the readers they are singled out as men of leading position from now on. Furthermore, the daily distribution to the "Hellenists" was to be administered by the "Hellenists" themselves, not by the "Hebrews. " Hence the "Hellenists" were fully reinstituted in the Christi an community at large, and hence in honor. . The last verse (6:7) indicates the success of the apostles. The conflict is over, the word of God increased, and the number of the disciples multiplied. Just as in the several preceding comparable "comments from aside" (2:4247; 4:4; 5:12-16; 5:42), the narrator gives a compressed narrative of specific events in undefined time.
Second reading: testing the model 0/ conjlict management How does this conflict fit into the model of conflict management presented above? A second reading should consider the various parts in light of the model in order to test the model. The text narrates a "murmuring" among the "Hellenists" against the "Hebrews, " but no further actions of enmity are reported. The conflict is solved by the interruption of the honorable apostles who suggest the establishment of another method of organizing the daily distributions. The solution represented, in fact, an acceptance of the claim of the Hellenists, and thus arestoring of their challenged honor. The "twelve," the apostles, represent the elite, who interfered in the conflict. The deprivation felt by the "Hellenists" might seem trivial at first, but was one which endangered their position in the group of Christians at large. The conflict may be seen as being in its initial phases. It was still on the verbal level (murmuring). Furthermore, the conflict was not brought before any official court, though the interference of the apostles represented the engaging of the supreme leaders of the Christians . Hence the conflict was considered a serious one, or one with serious implications at least. When a conflict is developing, the' kind of counter-measures applied or the kind of solution set forth will depend upon the severity of the conflict. The severity of the conflict, furthermore, will most often be dependent upon the degree of deprivation feIt (Curr 1970). The leadership concerned might have several alternatives available to solve the conflict. According to Seder-
. lONew Testament scholars have sunnised that they in fact were the leaders of the Hellenists (cf. Hengel; Bruce 1979).
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 183 berg, "Faced with discontent, whether actively expressed or not, the regime may attempt to identify and address the causes, an alternative that might be called conservative change" (88). This latter alternative was apparentlY chosen b!, "the twelve" according to the narrative of Acts. By arranging for the electlOn of seven honorable men to administer the "daily distributions," they successfully addressed the cause of the conflict without invoking any immediate further protest or countermeasures from the "Hebrews. " According to Sederberg again: Conservative change, however, presumes that the regime controls sufficient resources to .(l) redistribute to the dissatisfied, while maintaining the support of most of the estabhshment and (2) control those who remain or become disgruntled (88).
The "twelve" proved their control over resources, whieh seems according to Acts 6: 1-7, to have been accepted by both parties. Hence their conflict management regained their social control over the group at large. This conflict is somewhat unusual compared to the other conflicts in Acts. In most cases there are conflicts between Christi an and non-Christi an Jews~ Acts 6: 1-7 eoncer~s a Christian intra-group confliet. Nevertheless, the CO~fllCt was one about honor as weIl as one about legitimate group memberShlp. Hence the conflict might be considered as one of great potential for further cleavage. The "twelve" managed, however, to keep the groups together. Henc~ they remaip.ed in power and honor. According to such a reading, the confllct management involved could thus perfect1y be fitted into the part of the. model called "conservative change." Whether this interpretation is histoncally plausible is quite another issue (cf. below).
Acts 6:8-7:60.: "The Hellenists" and Stephen
Th~ s~par~tion of Acts 6:8-7:60 from the preceding 6:1-7 might seem rather artIficlal smce Stephen is a main character in both pericopes. T 0 the readers the story runs r.ather nicely. The "comment from aside" in 6:7 harctly interrupts the narratIve and the transitionalr,i underseores this observation. As in t~e following section, no extensive exegesis of the text concerned will be g~ven below. We try rather to foeus consistently on the conflict and the conthct management presented in the narrative: What are the issues at stake in the conflict narrated? Who we~e engaged in the different scenes inherent in the nar~ative? . How. is the conflict managed? These and similar questions are central m our mvestlgation of the reader's understanding of Acts 6:8-7:60 .
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First reading: the nature 0/ the conflict Stephen is introduced to the reader for a second time by a characterization related to that given in 6:5. In 6:5 he was characterized as 1f'"Ai}p'Y1C; 1f'ia78WC; KaI. 1f'V8V/la70C; eX-yiov; in 6:8 it is told that E7e<pavoc; oe 1f'"Ai}p'Y1C; Xapt70C; KaI. ovVa/l8WC; broi8t 7epa7a KaI, a'Y1/l8'ia /l8-ya"Aa 8V 7~ "Aa~.
Characterizations are sometimes important features in ancient narratives (cf. Gowler 1991:77-176; 1993). The reader might expect a further description of Stephen conducting the otaKov8'iv 7pa1f'esau; (6:2), but nothing of this sort is given. It is not explicitly stated what the expression 7epa7a KaI, a'Y1/l8'ia /l8-ya"Aa might denote. The same expression is found, however, in Acts 2:22 (cf. 4:30) about the works of Jesus of Nazareth; such wondrous works according to 2:43; 5:12 - were continued by the apostles. By the 7epa7a KaI. a'Y1/l8'ia /l8-ya"Aa, the author probably indicates that it concerns mirac1es as healings of various diseases (cf. 4:30; 5:16; cp. 8:6; 14:3; 15:12). Stephe~, then, is depicted as continuing this work, thereby being very much aligned Furthermore, these with the honorable apostles (Johnson 1977°:50f). wondrous works of Stephen were probably not only performed among his Christian brethren. From the prominent place of this characterization, one is led to assurne that it was these actions of healings that drew the attention of some synagogue members to Stephen, and induced them to dispute with hirn. A conflict is developing.
The conflict. Acts 6:9 introduces some persons who are characterized by their synagogal membership or by their place of origin. It is not c1ear how many synagogues are implied by the expression used: it might be one, or even up to five.1 1 More important, however, is that the characterization of the synagogue(s) as being for people from the Diaspora probably locates This is, admittedly, not Stephen's opponents among the "Hellenists." explicitly stated in the text. But it might be a plausible inference drawn from the preceding mention of the Hellenists in 6: 1. The author would know that "the Hellenists" might not only denote Christian Diaspora Jews, but nonChristian Jews as weIl (cf. 9:29). As pointed out above, the reader would know that in Jerusalem there lived Jews "from every nation under heaven" (2:5). The location of the men in 6:9 to the Diaspora synagogue(s) categorizes them as non-Christian Diaspora Jews, hence probably "Hellenists." llScholars differ on the figure. For a review, see Neudorfer 1983:158f. Some rabbinic texts mention a considerable number of synagogues in Jerusalem; cf. "avvi5pwv" in TDNT VII:812f. Archaeology has also confirmed the presence of synagogues in Jerusalem: see on the Theodotius inscription: Deissmann 1978:439-441. Kee (7-8) doubts, however, such an early dating of this inscription.
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 185 Their reaction against Stephen is actualized by his repa7a KaI, a'Y1/l8'ia /l8-ya"Aa, as indicated by the adversative oe. That means that Stephen is here (temporarily?) located among his former co-fellows from the Diaspora. Hence it may be suggested that the severity of the conflict recorded in Acts 6:9ff was due not only to Stephen's activity as such, but also to his immediate audience: the Diaspora Jews (Esler 1987:148; Seland 1995:269-73).12 But then Stephen is characterized not only as a man performing wonders and signs, but also as so skillful in speech that they were not able to withstand his wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke. They "disputed" (aV S'Y170VV78C;) with Stephen; the reason for the dispute, however, is not explicitly given. The opposition of the Hellenists is given in dishonorable terms: they "secretly instigated men" (6:11), and they "set up false witnesses" (6:13). This indicates to the reader that since the opponents were not able to withstand the impact of Stephen's activities, they were indulging in a secret plot against hirn, and the conflict would be greatly intensified. Because the witnesses were false ones, their accusations would not so much represent the preaching of Stephen as the dishonorable me ans applied by the Hellenists to get rid of hirn. Furthermore, the intensity of the conflict is indicated by the fact that "they stirred up the people ("Aa6c;) and the elders (70Ue; 1f'p8aßv78pOVe;) and the scribes (70Ue; -ypa/l/la78'ie;) , and that they came upon hirn and seized (avvi}p1f'aaav) hirn and brought him before the council" (1j-ya-yov eie; 70 avveopwv). So far in the narrative, "people" is used in a favorable sense of people who were friendly to the apostles and responsive to their message (Acts 3:11, 12; 4:1, 2, 19, 17, 21; 5:12, 13, 20, 25, 26; Kodell 1969:328), and they still seem to be rather passive (Johnson:51). In 5:13b it is even said that the "people" held the apostles "in high honor" (cf. 2:47). But now they assist in dragging Stephen into the camp of his adversaries. The "elders" and the "scribes," however, would already be weIl known to the reader as adversaries of the apostles (cf. 4:5, 8, 23). Then for the third time in the narrative of Acts 1-7, the avveopwv is engaged in a Jewish-Christian conflicto(cf. Cassidy 1987:36f). The readers would know the avveopwv from 4:5ff and 5:21ff. In the first conflict, the apostles were interrogated, but simply told "not to speak or te ach at all in the name of Jesus" (4:18); the second time the circumstanees were worse: the apostles were arrested and put in jail. Then, there was another interrogation, adeliberation over judgment, ending up in a se ourging , and the apostles were onee more eharged not to speak in the name of Jesus (5:40). The narratives about the relations of the Christians to the l2For arecent historical reconstruction, see Esler (141-161) and L. Schenke (176ff). The recent works of C. C. Hili and S. Ugasse have not been available to me.
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Sanhedrin are thus showing a deteriorating development (Haenchen:273). Furthermore, the readers would have an impression of the Sanhedrin as having considerable power of jurisdiction. Readers sympathizing ,;ith ~he Christians would anticipate the next conflict with anxiety. The detenoratlOn would be evident to the reader already in the preparatory stages of the conflict: in the mass of opponents gathered, in the establishment of false witnesses and then in the assembling of the Sanhedrin. They would know that it was ocly by the intervention of Gamaliel that the apostles werenot killed in the preceding conflict. What now about Stephen? . . The core of the conflict is verbalized to the readers m the accusatlOns leveled against Stephen; the severity of the conflict is given by their repetition: those secretly instigated against Stephen are said to claim that "We have heard him speak blasphemous words against Moses and God" (6: 11); in the Sanhedrin the false witnesses state that "This man never ceases to speak against this holy place and the law" (6:13). There is no real diffe~ence between these two accusations. The "Moses" in the first is paralleled m the second by the "law," as "God" is paralleled by "this holy place." The importance of the repetition is more in the rhetorical effect: Stephen is accused of attacking the basic constitutional values of the Jews. These charges, however, are further specified in v. 14 (cf. -yOt.p) by the statement "we have heard him say that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy (fut = KaraAvasL) this place and will change the customs (rex eOYJ) which Moses delivered to us." The issue of destroying the Temple and changing the Law in the future may not be incidental but represents a specific accentuation. Hence the accusation that Stephen preached the end of the Temple and its cult by an intervention of Jesus and that Jesus would change the Torah repre~e~ts an eschatological emphasis in Stephen's preaching (Hengel:191), compnsmg at least apart of the cause for the opposition against him. 13 Thus the narrator describes Stephen as not only accused of having attacked the most fundamental pi11ars in Jewish identity, but also as having been associated with the activity of the condemned Jesus of Nazareth (cf. Acts 2:36; 4:27; 5:28). The conflict recorded in Acts 6:9f is obviously described as an intragroup conflict. "The Diaspora Jews were concerned about their associate's new attitudes toward and views of certain ideological items. Hengel charac13ef. the historical comment by Räisänen 1986:266: "But if Stephen tau~ht. th.at the Messiah would give a new interpretation of the law or even make chang~s. 10 It. m the future, such aprediction would hardly have been a suffic~ent reas?n for kilhng hIrn. It might have been different with the temple. If Stephen Sa1? an~t~mg. that could be co~ strued as a threat to the temple, that might have caused hIS ehmmatlOn, the m.ore so If prediction and action against the temple had actually been the reason fer havmg Jesus killed. "
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 187 terizes it as a "Selbstreinigungsprocess" (1975). According to the text, it would seem natural to suggest that both the accusers and (false) witnesses were Diaspora Jews. They are the prime antagonists of Stephen throughout the whole story (cf. 7:58b). By taking action against Stephen, the Diaspora Jews were doing so against one of their own who had adopted problematical viewpoints on central issues in their conception of Jewish identity and had joined the Nazarene group(s). The author signals that the Diaspora Jews of Acts 6:9 saw in Stephen a heretic who would "proselytize," and thus one who endangered his former group. The cultural script of honor and shame provides insight into this conflict as narrated by the author of Acts 6:8f. Stephen is described as a man of high honor: spirit filled and performing signs and wonders among the people. He is thus characterized as being a messenger of God (cf. 1 :4f; 2: 1ft). The Hellenists' confrontation with Stephen represents a direct challenge of his honor. But achallenge of the honor of one of God's messengers is, in fact, also a Stephen's honor, challenge of God's honor (Neyrey and Malina:60). however, is also emphasized by the statement that they were not able to withstand the spirit by which he spoke (6:10). The author indulges in the challenge-riposte situation by pinpointing to the reader that the Hellenists secretly instigated men and established false witnesses. Hence, though the ". charges leveled are serious, they are discredited by being described as false (i.e., dishonorable). Honor and shame are social categories; they indicate a person's social standing and rightful place in a society. Honor is further social by being public; it represents "the positive value of a person in his or her own eyes plus the positive appreciation of that person in the eyes of his or her social group" (Neyrey and Malina:25). The engaging of the people, the elders, and the scribes in the conflict signals to readers that the Hellenists are in process of losing, that they are aware of this possibility, but also that they try to combat it by involving the most supreme court in Jerusalem, the Sanhedrin. As Malina noted: "In the first-century world, normal legal procedures are used to dishonor someone or some group perceived to be of higher, more powerful status, and recourse to them is an admission of inequality" (1981 :39). Those retaining their honor in that context would then be the truly honorable persons, the others being dishonored and shamed. This crucial moment of decision is indicated by the question of the High Priest: "ls this so?" (Ei raurCl oürw<; exsL; 7:1). The narrator counters this question by reporting a speech of defense brought forward by Stephen in the Sanhedrin (7:2b-53).
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
The speech oi Stephen. The setting of this drama is thus squarely located in the council, in the Sanhedrin. 14 Elders and scribes are convened (cf. 4:5; 5:21), witnesses are brought forth, people are sitting in the Sanhedrin (6:15), the High Priest is present (cf. 4:6; 5:17, 21, 27) interrogating Stephen ab out the truth of the charges leveled against hirn (7: 1), and Stephen is allowed to speak. There has been considerable discussion in scholarly research about the speech of Stephen. Central issues have been the relation of the speech to the charges, and the exact Implications of the speech as evidence for the theology of Stephen/the Hellenists and its relation to the theology of Luke, the real author .15 Most critical readers consider the speech to be incongruous to the charges, taken from another source than the story about Stephen, and hard to fit into the theology of Luke. I suggest that since the speech should be understood in light of the preceding chapters - the primary horizon known to the readers (cf. above) - the following aspects would be crucial to them: First, they would consider the speech in light of the other speeches reported in the preceding narrative. In all of the preceding speeches there seems to be a threefold pattern: there is a presentation/explanation of the Jesus story (2:14-35; 3:12-13a, 15), there is an actualization of the story (2:36; 3:16, 18-26; 4:9, 12; 5:30-32), and there is most often areprobation: an accusation against the hearers as guilty of resistance against Jesus/the message from God (2:36; 3:13b-14; 5:30, cf. also Schweizer 1968). How is this taken into account in the Stephen speech? Second, they would consider the speech in light of the characterizations given of Stephen. In these characterizations the readers have been given an impression of a spirit-filled man: Stephen was Öt.VÖPCl. 7rA,iJp'TJ~ 7rLa7eW~ Keil. 7rVeVJ-l.Cl.70~ a-YLou (6:5), and his opponents "could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke" (6:10). The importance of the Spirit would be known from the narratives in 1:4f; 2:1ff; 4:8, 25, 31; 5:3, 32. This would indicate to the readers that the issue of spirit was central. How is this met in the speech of Stephen? 14Hengel (1975:189) has challenged this location of the scene, but his arguments are hardly convincing. He argues that the setting was not the Sanhedrin, but a synagogal gathering of Diaspora Jews. The problems of his interpretation concern the presence of the people, elders, and scribes. While there may have been both "presbyters" and "scribes" in the Diaspora synagogues, the Lukan use of terms such as aV1I80pWlI and Aao~ makes this location implausible: in all other occurrences of these terms they denote the Sanhedrin and the Jewish people at large, respectively. 15The literature is immense, and the flow of articles endless. See the major commentaries of Haenchen, Schneider, and Pesch for valuable introductions to the conventional issues discussed.
Third, since it is explicitly stated that the witnesses were false (6: 13), readers would consider the charges to be false; hence they would not consider the speech to substantiate the charges (cf. Stanton 1980; Weinert 1986). How is this dealt with in the speech? The author of Acts exhibits a considerable literary and rhetorical competency: "The author uses a strategy for developing rhetorical topics ... he exhibits a significant rhetorical approach to defense speeches . . . ." (Robbins:319). This rhetorical competence, in fact, is not only evident in the defense speeches of Paul but also in the speech of Stephen. Klinghardt (286; cf. Berger:72) has argued that the speech is structured according to ancient rhetorical rules: it contains an exordium 7:2a, a narratio 7:2b-47, an argumentatio sive probatio 7:48-50, and a peroratio 7:51-53. The author is, accordingly, conveying a speech structured according to rhetorical categories. This would indicate that the crucial part of the speech is in the last part, in the peroratio, where the conc1usions of the preceding parts are given. Abrief review of the speech may display these aspects further. 16
The exordium 7:2a. To address the listeners as "Avöpe~ aÖeA,4;>oL Kcd seems to be something more than a mere captatio benevolentiae. Stephen is aligning himself with and speaking to his own people. Again and again he characterizes the patriarchs as "our father(s)" (7:2, 11, 12, 15, (19), 38, 39, 44, 45), an aspect consistently carried through until the final accusation in 7:51 where it is changed to "your fathers." This is especially important when he comes to Moses, the transmitter of the Law. 7rCL7ipe~
The narratio 7:2b-47. The narratio consists of three parts: 7:2b-8 on Abraham; 7:9-19 on Joseph; and 7:20-47 on Moses. The first part is the one most difficult to integrate in the speech. It seems to have litde to bear on the context. To the readers, however, it gives the background of the common identity of Stephen and his listeners as it narrates about God's election of Abraham, their famous generic father. Here the specific emphasis of Stephen's reproduction of the Biblical history is discernible: it is one of promise and fulfillment contrasted with the people' s acceptance of God' s messengers through the ages (Dahl 1968:143f). Furthermore, it emphasizes the gracious nature of God as weIl as his truthfulness and faithfulness to his promises. The following parts are to be understood in this context, since it tells about God's realization of his word to Abraham. .16Again I must remind the reader of this study that my purpose is not to give an extensive exegesis of the speech, but to focus on aspects relevant to the issue of conflict and conflict management as evident to the implied reader. For detailed traditional exegesis of the speech, see Haenchen; Schneider; and Larsson 1983: 141-166.
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The second part, on Joseph, continues these aspects. And in 7:9 the issue of rejection and suffering of the chosen one is introduced. The third part consists primarily of an encomium on Moses (7:20-40). Moses too is rejected by his brethren (27) but is re-established as the chosen one of God (30f). In fact, three times Moses is presented as rejected by the fathers (27f; 35; 39), and Stephen disapproved of all of these. Furthermore, Moses spoke the words of God, but he was rejected, resulting in God's rejection of the sinners (42-43). In this rejection the reader could see a terrible fulfillment of the pattern established already in 3:23, a pattern which appears again in 7:5lf. This fact, taken together with the great part occupied by Moses in the speech, would indicate to the readers that Stephen was positive regarding Moses, but that his listeners were compared to those who rejected the messengers of God in the past. Hence, the part of the accusations concerning Moses (6:11,13) was wrong (cf. Stanton:349). What then about the accusation that Stephen spoke against the Temple? Most scholars understand the speech as an attack on the Temple, and evidence for this is found in 7:44-50 (e.g., Schneider). But Stephen launches no explicit attack on the temple. On the contrary, Moses made the tent "according to the pattern that he had seen" (KCi.TCt. TO" T(nro" ö" ewpaKEL), and the Temple was built after the prayer of David, though made by Solomon (7:46-47). This hardly represents an attack on the Temple. The narratio thus contains several aspects of argumentatio, a combination also found in other speeches in Acts (1: 16-22; 2: 14-36; Berger 1984:72), but no substantiation of the charges is found.
The argumentatio sive probatio 7:48-50. This part is undoubtedly the most difficult section of the speech. Its function in its context is not obvious. On one hand, there is no implication in 7:44-47 that in building the Temple Solomon was disobedient. The point of the following quotation must lay elsewhere. Acts 7:49-50 is in fact a citation from Isa 66:1-2, and the reference to the fact that God does not live in Temples built by men is in accordance with the view expressed by Solomon at the dedication of the Temple (1 Kgs 8:27). Several interpretations are possible. If it is not to be taken as a rejection of the Temple as such, it may represent a rejection of a specific view of the Temple. Bruce suggests that Stephen criticizes the Temple because the community now is the Temple of God (Bruce 1970), a reading which introduces the view of Paul into the theology of Stephen. Klinghardt argues that it is not so much a criticism of the Temple as a criticism of "das Phänomenon der Absonderung, die sich in dem einen Heiligtum ausdrückt, das der Universalität Gottes und seines Gesetzes wiederspricht" (302).
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 191 According to Stanton the implication of these verses is that "in supposing that b iJ1/IWTOC; f" XELP07rOLT/TOLC; KCi.TOLKE'i he has not been truly worshipped and
has been spurned" (352); thus the listeners are accused of a false view of the Temple. It is clear, then, that the function of 7:48-50 is to make the transition to the peroratio of 7:51-53. For this reason these verses explicate the main themes of the speech.
The peroratio 7:51-53. The peroratio of 7:51-53 definitely turns the speech from one of defense to one of accusation. It is not Stephen who has spoken against the Law or the Temple. The speech's strategy communicates that Stephen, in fact, is in the process of suffering a fate of rejection comparable to that of both Joseph and Moses, and now also Jesus. By rejecting Stephen the people align themselves with those rejecting these witnesses of God in the past. Critical readers, especially those versed in biblical scholarship, realize that the author here brings to a culmination his application of an old topos concerning the rejection and persecution of the prophets, the messengers of God (Steck:265f); it represents a climax of a recurring pattern of rejection pinpointed in speech after speech in Acts 1-7, a rejection which stands under the terrible judgment of God (3:23; cf 7:42a). Read in light of the three points listed above, they are highlighted thus in the speech: the theme of rejection and reprobation so prominent in the other speeches is fully present here too (7:9, 27, 35, 39), and it reaches its climax in the people's rejection of Jesus (7:52) and his servant Stephen (7:54f). Furthermore, the aspect of the antagonism against the Spirit is brought fully out in 7: 51. The resistance of the fathers to the messengers of God in the past was, in fact, a resistance against the Holy Spirit. The implication of this is that the resistance of the people against Stephen is disclosed as opposition to the Holy Spirit again (VP.E'iC; aEL TC) 7r"EVP.Ci.7L TC} a-YL4J a"7L7rL7rTETE, WC; 01. 7rCi.7epEC; Vf1.W" KaI, VP.E'iC;). Lastly, Stephen is vindicated as "not guilty" of the accusations leveled in 6: 11 and 13. Those dragging Stephen to court, however, are resisting God. This is further confirmed by the action taken against Stephen by those present (7:54-60). The execution 0/ Stephen. The narrator states that "when they heard these things they were enraged, and they ground their teeth against hirn" (7:54, cf. 5:33). But Stephen "full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God." Stephen further recounts his vision to his audience, the High Council, and those present there: "Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." This infuriates the listeners: they cry out, hold
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SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 193
their ears not to hear any more from Stephen, rush upon hirn, drag hirn out of . the city, and have hirn stoned. Here the witnesses reap~ear on ~he scen~, engaging themselves in the stoning (7:58). But Stephen dIes, praymg for hIS executioners. According to the frameWork of the speech, two kinds of crimes seem to motivate the violent measures against Stephen. The first one concerns his preaching among his fellow Jews (cf. above); the second concerns h~s .statement ab out his heavenly vision. The ultimate reason, then, for the kilhng of Stephen was, according to Acts 7:56, his statement that he saw "the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God" ('Ioou Oewpw
the hearing until Stephen's death were the same: those initially present since there is no indication of interruption of the hearing. Nor are there any hints in the text indicating an interruption by outsiders. The story proceeds from Stephen's speech to immediate violent measures against hirn, the accused person; it turns from a formal legal hearing to an informal execution caused by the severity of the crime in question. I will discuss these aspects in the following section, which tests the model of conflict management.
70Ue;; oupot.voue;; OtTJVOL'YJ.tivovc; Kot.L 701' viov 70U ixvOpcSJ7rov eK oe~Lw1' ea7w7ot. 70U Oeou) a statement obviously interpreted as blasphemous by the Jews pre-
Considered in light of our model of conflict management presented above, the conflict concerning Stephen and the other Hellenists went through several stages, ending up in the stoning outside the city. The case started out as an ingroup conflict: some Diaspora Jews were discussing with another Diaspora Jew. Stephen, however, adopted certain viewpoints about Jesus of Nazareth which were conceived as problematic by the other Hellenists. The narrator states that Stephen was performing great signs and wonders, but also that they could not withstand the wisdom and spirit by which he spoke. The witnesses brought forward by his opponents focused on his preaching, so obviously it was the preaching activity of Stephen that provoked the Hellenists. The content of Stephen' s preaching is given from the side of his opponents only, and, according to the narrator (Acts 6:11, 13), their accusations were false. The ingroup nature of the conflict illuminates the character of the Hellenists' management of the conflict. Being afraid of aredistribution of their values, they tried to oppose Stephen' s activity. The purpose of this dispute is evident from the next steps taken. When they could not withstand his preaching, they went further, secretly engaging men to bring forth evidence that Stephen's preaching was not only problematic, but was also against the Temple and the Law (i.e., as being "anticonstitutional"). The first step taken by his opponents may be characterized as ingroup measures 0/ accommodation: they tried to convince Stephen of the incorrectness of his views. Read in light of the model presented above, one might characterize these measures .further as measures 0/ manipulation. The manipulative nature of their countermeasure is disclosed by their secret instigation of men who said they had heard Stephen propagating blasphemous views on the Temple and the Law. According to the narrative, however, this procedure did not work. When such ingroup measures fai!, the next step could be to engage a wider group in the conflict and eventually to draw on the power of some higher authorities. According to the narrator, this is exactly how the conflict developed (7:6, 12t). When a larger group of people was engaged - here
sent (Har~ 1967:25), since they stopped their ears so as not to hear anything more. Stephen's statement contains two crucial elements: first, the presence in the heavens of the condemned and crucified Jesus - a heavenly affirmation that what they had done to this Jesus was wrong. Apart of the alleged blasphemy, then, was that a man condemned by the Sanhedrin was said to be at the right hand of God. The second aspect concerns the manifestation of Jesus as the Son of Man, standing at the right hand of God. The most current interpretation of this aspect probably is that it depicts J esus as the Son of Man standing before God as the defender of his persecuted disciple Stephen. Hence Stephen is most highly honored by this vision into Heaven. Coupled with the claim of avision of God, it might indicate that Stephen was claiming avision for himselfwhich was against the Torah (cf. SegaI1977:94ft). Read in light of the social script of honor and shame, the story ends up in areversal of the challenge of honor. Stephen, the one challenged in public to the uppermost by being brought before the Sanhedrin, is v~ndicated as the person of honor in three ways: on one hand, he is aligned with God's messengers from the past - Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and even Jesus - and he receives a heavenly vision. On the other hand, his audience acts in ways comparable to those rejecting these former messengers of God. The claim of Stephen: "You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you". (7:51) represents a most serious counterchallenge to their honor. The hsten~rs understand the implication of this claim (cf. 3:23), and it leaves them with only one possibility: God has been blasphemed, and Stephen must be kill~d. In terms of honor and shame, that would represent the extreme and total dIShonor of another with no revocation possible. Finally, in this narrative about the actions against Stephen, no mention is made of any deliberation over judgment. In addition, no pronouncement of punishment is given. Furthermore, the persons active from the beginning of
Second reading: testing the model 0/ conflict management
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
the "people, the elders, and the scribes" - he was soon brought before a court - the Sanhedrin of J erusalem. This approach represents a development from private, manipulative conflict management to the involvement of a higher authority, here the J ewish apparatus of official disciplinary measures. By locating Stephen in the court, the author conveys the impression that Stephen was receiving a formal hearing before the judges. The question of the High Priest (7:1), as weIl as the rhetorical structure of the speech delivered by Stephen, supports this observation. Hence the Jewish apparatus of official disciplinary measures was engaged. According to the flow of the story, the regular court assembly and its hearing experienced a disorganization: no formal verdict, as far as the text informs us, was given; no punishment was discussed and meted out. Stephen was suddenly driven out of the court, out of the city, and stoned. Critical readers, such as New Testament scholars, have surmised that the hearing was interrupted by some mob (Haenchen:247; Hengel:189; Pesch 1:235). The narrative, however, mentions no mob interrupting the hearing; nor are there any hints in the text indicating an interruption by outsiders. The persons active from the beginning of the hearing until Stephen's death were the same: those initially present. The narrative turns from a formal legal hearing to an informal execution, caused by the severity of the crime in question. Stephen was charged with blasphemy, acharge which his listeners believed was vindicated by his speech and especially by his description of his vision (7:56f). Stephen's death was a result of the need of the hour, sponsored by the anger of those present. Such a killing might be categorized as a legally legitimate killing of an irregular nature. On one hand, the Sanhedrin had a regular meeting - the meeting was dissolved, and Stephen was killed in a violent way without any formal judgment; hence the formal aspects of the hearing were abolished. On the other hand, those present believed that Stephen uttered blasphemies; hence he was liable to capital punishment. Drawing on the categories contained in our model, the punishment is a kind of vigilantism, that is, violence performed by persons identifying themselves with the established order and defending that order by me ans that were in violation of the formal and regular orders of the society. By dissolving the Sanhedrin and by letting loose the anger aroused, the formal procedure of jurisdiction was temporarily abandoned, and a vigilante execution performed (cf. Seland 1995).
From Story to History : Aspects of Historical Plausibility The preceding sections performed a elose reading of the narrative of Acts 67; now 1 wish to discuss some aspects of historical plausibility of the events investigated. The concept used here, aspects of plausibility, is taken from a study of G. Theissen (1983). It may be a substitute for what may be called "basis of plausibility" or· "structure of plausibility" (Berger and Luckmann 1966) and denotes "alle sozialen Bedingungen und Faktoren, die eine Überzeugung als evident erscheinen lassen" (318). Space does not permit an extensive analysis; the purpose is primarily to map out some issues considered vital for any investigation of the historicity of the events narrated.1 7 Hence, the section represents not so much a historical investigation of the texts, as a pinpointing of some crucial aspects previously neglected in recent historical research. The aspects are given under four headings: (1) the question of sources, (2) the plausibility of different groups in J erusalem, (3) the plausibility of conflicts over the Law, (4) and the plausibility of violent conflict management (cf. Seland 1995).
The plausibility of several sources The scholarly debate over the question of the sources in Acts is a much discussed and intricate problem, and because of the present state of research it cannot be crucial to our arguments here (see especially Dupont 1964; Haenchen:72-81; and Schneider 1:83-103). When Jacques Dupont reviewed the relevant literature in 1964, he ended with the following conc1usion, which still seems to represent common opinion: The predominant impression is certainly very negative. Despite the most careful and detailed research, it has not been possible to define any of the sources used by the author of Acts in a way which will meet widespread agreement among critics . . . . No theory has managed to impose itself by its prob ability and in virtue of the indications given by the texts.
Thus, while the prevailing view seems to be that Luke had a variety of sources, probably both oral and written (cf. Luke 1:1ff), the lack of consensus on criteria by which they can be defined makes it difficult to isolate 17Concerning the issue of plausibility, cf. also the scheme offered by E. P. Sanders (1985:321). Here he tries to stratify the knowledge about Jesus according to the following scal~ of reliability: "beyond reasonable doubt (or 'certain'), highly probable, probable, posslble, conceivable, unprovable, incredible." The crucial point here is that historical studies do not provide proofs but always operate within degrees of probabilitie~. Hence the structures of plausibility are important.
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the sources from their present contexts. The question of sources, however, remains to be raised in studying particular text segments. Since it can be observed in his Gospel that Luke transformed his material, similar procedures can be conjectured to have been used in ActS. 18 Several aspects have been pointed out as indicating the presence of special source material in Acts 6-7 (cf. Haenchen; Schneider; and Lüdemann 1987). The transition from the harmonious conditions of the early Christi ans to the conflicts of Acts 6:1ff may indicate that the author is here utilizing a source different from the . preceding material. Other aspects such as the use of the terms JUXO'Y/7fJC; and oi OWOeKCi. may support this suggestion. The relationship of the speech to the story of the conflict and death of Stephen mayaiso indicate the presence of more than one source. Hence, several aspects of tbis particular narrative about the "Hellenists," the "Hebrews, " and Stephen point to Luke's use of sources . Any investigation of the historicity of these events must take account of these aspects.
The plausibility
0/ different conflicting Jewish groups in Jerusalem
Several sources provide evidence for the presence of Diaspora J ews in Jerusalem having their own synagogue(s). Jerusalem was visited by many pilgrims, but many from the Diaspora also settled down there (on the pilgrimages, see Safrai 1981). They deliberately chose to settle down at the center of the world (Ezek 38:12 LXX; Jub. 8:19), where the one Temple for the One God was to be found. Here they were afforded the best opportunities to observe the purity maps of both place and time: living in the holy land and joining the sacrifices and the feasts. Philo of Alexandria gives interesting descriptions of the pilgrims and their motives. In Spec. 1 :70 he says: "They take the temple for their port as a general haven and safe refuge from the bustle and great turmoil of life . . . . Thus filled with comfortable hopes they devote the leisure, as is their bounden duty, to holiness and the honoring of God. " This honoring of God was indissolubly bound up with the cultic activities in the Temple: "The sacrifices and libations are the occasion of reciprocity of feeling and constitute the surest pledge that all are of one mind" (Spec. 1:70). The indisputable focus of the pilgrims was thus the Jerusalern Temple. For Philo, as for every Torah observing Jew, no other Temple was to be considered worthy of God, the One who really is: "Since
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 197 God is one, there should be also only one temple" (Spec. 1:67; cf. Josephus in Ag. Ap. 2: 193). In older research, the "Hellenists" qua Diaspora Jews were most often viewed as having been liberal and syncretistic in their attitudes toward the Temple and the Torah compared to Palestinian Jews (for" references, see Neudorfer). This view has been challenged, and rightly so (cf. Delling; Esler). The "home-coming" Diaspora Jews are not to be seen as liberal in contrast to the Palestinian Jews, but rather as "conservative," if that term may be used, focusing their attitudes and views on the Torah, the Temple, and the Land as pivotal features in their J ewish identity. Several arguments can be brought forward in behalf of this view: first, the simple fact that they left the Diaspora and settled down in the Holy City of Jerusalern. Second, the reasons for their presertce: pilgrims came to Jerusalem to participate in the feasts, to bring sacrifices, and to visit the Holy Land. But the presence of Diaspora-synagogues in Jerusalem signals that their members were not only pilgrims, but were people who had settled down in Jerusalem to live there, perhaps to live there for the rest of their lives in order to be buried in the Holy Land. Primary features for understanding group structures, group coherence, and conflict management in the first century Mediterranean world are the social scripts of kinship and religion and of honor and shame. In their socialization they were reared to consider their group and its values as the primary focus and content of their identity, role, and status (Le., honor). Great emphasis was laid upon the importance of one's group in Mediterranean societies - on the aspect of belongingness, of solidarity to the inherent values of the group, and the corresponding sanctions against those who transgressed these values, values which were established by their "religion" (on the role of "religion," cf. Malina 1986). Hence, they considered themselves, as weIl as others, to represent some particular group. An attack on an individual was consldered as achallenge to bis particular group, and an attack on bis values concerned those of his group. Such aspects should be taken into account in an investigation of the case of Stephen. Hence, if Christians, not to say some from their own ranks of the Hellenists, were perceived as adopting and propagating views which did not match the attitudes of the Diaspora Jews, a conflict is very likely to have emerged.
The plausibility 18Haenchen's argument (73) that we can not presuppose the same procedure in Acts as in the Gospel, since Luke did not have "Apostelgeschichten, " has been strongly challenged by J. Jervell 1972a; cf. also Conzelmann 1963; Roloff 1981; and Schneider (I: 82ff). ·1
I
0/ conflicts over the Law
The works of Philo demonstrate, both explicitly and implicitly, that there were different attitudes in Alexandria toward the Law and the Jerusalem
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Temple, and that some non-observance could lead to violent conflicts with more Law-observing Jews. In his argument against the extreme spiritualists, Philo accepts the symbolic functions of such issues as the sabbath, the feasts, and circumcision, but he pleads that such views should not lead to a neglect of the observance of the Law. He also warns that neglect could lead to violent countermeasures (cf. Migr. 89-93; Spec. 1:54ff; 1:315ff; 2:252f). if spiritualistic interpretations and nonThis prompts one to inquire: observance could be punished in the Diaspora by zealous Jews (cf. especially Spec. 1 :54ff; Migr. 89f), would not that make a good case for "the censure of the many" for similar interpretations and non-observance in Jerusalem, in the Holy City itself? Hence it is probable that if the Diaspora J ews thought they could recognize some spiritualistic views in the preaching of Stephen, comparable to what they in the Diaspora had learned was coupled with neglect of the actual observances of the Torah (cf. Migr. 89ff; cf. Räisänen:287-288), a conflict would develop. Perhaps the preaching of Stephen was not coupled with nonobservance (our sources are silent on that point), but according to Luke Stephen's preaching was similar to such attitudes by the Diaspora Jews (cf. Acts 6:11-14). Since the Diaspora Jews settling in Jerusalem came to Jerusalem because of the Temple, they probably were keenly sensitive to criticism of and non-observant behavior in the Holy City. The central position of the Law and the Temple in J ewish thought and life in the first century CE makes the reactions narrated in Acts 6-7 quite plausible.
The plausibility ofviolent conflict management Two dominant features of the conflict in 6:8ff are the role of the Sanhedrin, and the result of the conflict - the killing of Stephen. It is c1ear that at this time, the Sanhedrin did not have the jurisdiction of capital punishment (cf. Müller 1988; Seland 1995:282-86). There should also be no doubt about the procurator's power of capital punishment. This power was a right which in the Roman Empire was ". . . most jealously guarded of all attributes of government, not even entrusted to the principal assistants of the governor" (cf. Sherwin-White 1965; Garnsey 1966). J osephus explicitly states that when the procuratorial rule was established in Palestine in 6 CE, the procurator sent out by the emperor was "entrusted by Augustus with full powers, inc1uding the infliction of capital punishment" (see J. W. 2:117; Ant. 18:2). Sherwin-White points out that this right was "based upon the necessity of preventing anti-Roman groups from eliminating the leaders of pro-Roman factions in the cities by judicial action" (37). The view favored here is that the .Sanhedrin lacked competence in matters of capital punishment because of
SELAND: CONFLICT IN ACTS 6-7 199 the Roman restrictions imposed upon them. Hence, if Jews wanted to carry out the punishment of death prescribed in the Torah for certain crimes, they had to usurp that right. One such procedure might be irregular court procedures; another might be immediate violent measures of killing. Keeping in mind that Alexandrian Jews were among Stephen's opponents (Acts 6:9), Philo's statement in Spec. 2:252 mayaiso be considered Here Philo states that there (in Alexandria only?) were important. "thousands ... full of zeal for the laws (tTJAW7cx'l 1IoP.W1I), strictest guardians of the ancestral institutions (cbVACXKEC; 7&11 7rCX7PLW1I aKpLßia7CX7OL), merciless to those who do anything to subvert (Kcx7cxAvaEL) them" (cf. Acts 6:14). The similarity of these passages should not be overlooked. While Philo thus bears witness to the presence of zealous Jews ready to take action, Luke can be read as reporting that this is just what happened to Stephen (cf. Seland 1990:85ff, 344ft). Furthermore, in questioning the plausibility of the coercion exhibited by the characters in the Lukan narrative, one should consider the following socio-ideological aspects: According to T. R. Curr, "The potential for politica! violence varies strongly with the intensity and scope of normative justification for political violence among members of a collectivity." He also notes: "The intensity and scope of normative justifications for political violence vary strongly with the historical magnitude of political violence in a collectivity" (156, 170). When the ideology of a people is contained in a set of historical writings as in the case of Israel, their history becomes pivotal. The ideology of Israel is to be considered as both shaped by and contained in their historical traditions, in their Torah. Since these writings contain records of coercive and even violent countermeasures, such records will be of potential formative value for at least some segments of a people even if they are not actualized as codified laws by and for the legal authorities. The traditions of the Law, the Torah, of this people contain several references and stories of conflicts coupled with a violent solution (e.g., the Phinehas-incident in Num 25). Accordingly, such actions could be taken again, either by a group of "conservatives" among the Jerusalem Diaspora Jews, or also by men in such a position of authority as the members of the Sanhedrin, cf. Spec. 4:7f. Hence, the question of violent conf;tict management as vigilantism should be considered relevant not only for present day conflicts (cf. Sprinzak 1987), but also for conflicts ofthe first century CE.
Ti i
•
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Summary
Is there room for yet another study on "Once more: the 'Hellenists, , 'Hebrews, ' and Stephen?" Scarcely any text in the Lukan Acts of the Apostles has been more thoroughly scrutinized than Acts 6-7. And there will probably be more to come. The present paper has focused on the conflicts and conflict management narrated in the texts. The phenomena of conflicts and conflict management are in need of definition: too often the term "persecution" is used without any further specifications as to what constitutes a persecution. In the first part of the present study the category of conflict management is applied, fleshing out a model of various ways of handling conflicts. Focusing on the strategies of the texts as evident to the reader, an understanding of both the nature of the conflicts and the conflict management was developed in the second section. Furthermore, by reading these in light of the social scripts of honor and shame, supplementary aspects of these phenomena were discovered. This type of reading, however, does not deal with the historicity of the events concemed. The inscribed author, though, explicitly purports to set forth reliable information (Acts 1: 1). The present study, therefore, ends with a section presenting some aspects that should be considered relevant to a historical investigation of the events recorded in Acts 6-7, focusing especially on some material from Philo of Alexandria. The inherent presupposition is that such questions should still be considered relevant. Hence the present "once more" may convey furtber light on the texts.
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Mazrui, A1i A. "Black Vigilantism in Cultural Transition: Violence and Viability in Tropi1976 cal Africa." pp. 194-217 in Vigilante Politics. Ed. H. J. Rosenbaum, P. C. Sederberg. Philadelphia: University of Pennsy1vania. Müller, K. 1988
"Die Homerische Rechts und Staatsordnung. " pp. 172-95 in Zur Griechischen Rechtsgeschichte. Wege der Forschung 45. Ed. E. Bemeker. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Apostlagämingama, Vols 1-12. Kommentar til1 Nya Testamentet 5A. Stockholm: EFS Förlaget. "Die Hellenisten und die Urgemeinde." NTS 33:205-35. "Frän Actaforskningens Fält." Tidsskriftfor Teologi og Kirke 6~:49-66. "Beiträge Zum Griechischen Strafrecht." pp. 262-314 in Zur Griechischen Rechtgeschichte. Wege der Forschung 45. Ed. E. Bemeker. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft.
Legasse, Simon 1992 Stephanos: Historie et Discours D'Etienne dans les Actes des Apotres. Lectio Divina. Paris: Cerf. Little, C. B. and C. B. Sheffie1d "Frontiers and Criminal Justice: Eng1ish Private Prosecution Societies and 1983 American Vigilantism in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries. " American Sociological Review 48:796-808. Lüdemann, G. 1987
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Das Frühe Christentum nach Den Traditionen der Apostelgeschichte: Ein Kommentar. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.
Malina, B. J. 1981 The New Testament World: Insightsfrom Cultural Anthropology. Atlanta: John Knox. "Religion in the World of Paul." BTB 16:92-10l. 1986 1988 "A Conflict Approach to Mark 7." Forum 4:3-30. "Reading Theory Perspective: Reading Luke-Acts." pp. 3-23 in The 1991 Sodal World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. Malina, Bruce J. and Jerome H. Neyrey 1991 "Honor and Shame in Luke-Acts: Pivotal Values of the Mediterranean Warld." pp. 25-65 in The Sodal World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson.
"Möglichkeit und Vollzug Jüdischer Kapitalsgerichtsbarkeit im Prozess Gegen Jesus von Nazaret." pp. 411-83 in Der Prozess Gegen Jesus Historische Rückfrage und Theologische Deutung. Ed. K. Kertelge. Questiones Disputatae 112. Freiburg i Br: Herder.
Neudorfer, H. -Wo 1983 Der Stephanuskreis in der Forschungsgeschichte seit F C Baur. Giessen/Basel: Brunne. Neyrey, Jerome H. (ed.) 1991 The Sodal World ofLuke-Acts: Modelsfor Interpretation. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. Parkin, D. 1986 Patai, R. 1973 Pesch, R. 1986
"Vio1ence and Will." pp. 204-23 in The Anthropology of Violence. Ed. D. Riches. Oxford: B1ackwell.
The Arab Mind. New York: Scribner.
Die Apostelgeschichte Apg 1-12. Evangelish-Katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament V/l. Zürich-Köln-Neukirchen-Vluyn: Benziger Verlag.
Pesch, R., E. Gerhart and F. Schilling 1979 "Hellenisten und Hebräer." Biblische Zeitschnjt 23:87-92. Räisänen, H. 1986 "The Hellenists - a Bridge Between Jesus and Pau1?" pp. 242-305 in The Torah and Christ Essays in German and English of the Problem of the Law in Early Christianity. Helsinki: Finnish Exegetical Society 45. Rajak, T. 1985
"Jewish Rights in the Greek Cities Under Roman Ru1e." pp. 19-35 in Approaches to Ancient Judaism, Vo15: Studies in Judaism and Its GrecoRoman Contexts. BJS 32. Ed. W. S. Green. Atlanta: Scholars.
Rapoport, David C. "Terror and Messiah: An Ancient Experience and Some Modem Paral1983 leIs. " pp. 13-42 in The Morality ofTerrorism: Religious and Secular Justifications. Ed. David C. Rapoport, Yonah Alexander. New York: Pergamon. 1984 "Fear and Trembling: Terrorism in Three Religious Traditions." The American Political Sdence 78:658-77. 1988 "Messianic Sanctions for Terror." Comparative Politics 20:195-213.
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Robbins, Vernon K. . " . 1991 "The Social Location of the Imphed Author of Luke-Acts. pp. 305-32 m The Social World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. Ro1off, J. 1981
Die Apostelgeschichte. Das Neuen Testament Deutsch Band 5. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht.
. Rosenbaum, H. J. and P. C. Sederberg 1976 "Vigilantism: An Analysis of Establishment Violence. " pp. 3-29 m Vigilante Politics. Ed. H. J. Rosenbaum, P. C. Sederberg. Philadelphia: U niversity of Pennsy1vania. Rosenbaum, H. J. and P. C. Sederberg (eds.) 1976 Vigilante Politics. Philadelphia: University of Pennsy1vania. Safrai, S. 1981
1985
Jesus and Judaism. London: SCM.
Schenke, Ludger 1990 Die Urgemeinde: Geschichtliche und Theologische Entwicklung. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer . Schneider, G. 1980
Die Apostelgeschichte. 2 Vo1s. Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testaments 5. Freiburg: Herder.
Schweizer, Eduard 1968 "Concerning the Speeches in Acts." pp. 208-16 in Studies in Luke-Acts. Ed. L. E. Keck, J. L. Martyn. London: SPCK. Sederberg, Peter C. 1989 Terrorist Myths: Illusions, Metoric and Reality. Eng1ewoods C1iffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall. Segal, Alan F. 1977
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. . . Two Powers in Beaven: Early Rabbinie Reports About Chnstzanzty and Gnosticism. Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity 25. Leiden: E. J. Brill.
Se1and, Torrey 1987 "Jesus as a Faction Leader: On the Exit of the Category 'sect.''' pp. 197211 in Context: Essays in Bonor of Peder Borgen. Ed. Peter Wilhe1m Böckman, Roald E. Kristiansen. Trondheim: Tapir. 1992 "Mediterranean Cu1tures and Studies of the New Testament World: Some Problems and Prospects in Recent Research." Tidsskriftfor Kirke, Religion og Samfunn 5:75-90.
Establishment Violen ce in Philo and Luke: A Study of Non-Conformity to the Torah and Jewish Vigilante Reactions. Leiden: E. J. Brill.
Sherwin-White, A. N. 1965 Roman Society and the Roman Law in the New Testament. Oxford: Oxford University. Smal1wood, E. M. 1981 The Jews Under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian. Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity 20. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Sprinzak, Ehud "From Messianic Pioneering to Vigilante Terrorism: The Ca~e of the 1987 Gudsh Emunim Underground." Journal of Strategie Studies 10:194-216. Stanton, G. 1980
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"Stephen in Lucan Perspective." pp. 345-60 in Studia Biblia 1978:111. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series. Sheffield: University of Sheffie1d, Department of Biblical Studies.
Steck, Odil Hannes 1967 Israel und Gewaltsame Geschick der Propheten. Untersuchungen zur Überlieferung des Deuteronomistischen Geschichtbildes im Alten Testament, Spätjudentum und Urchristentum. Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament. Neukirchen-V1uyn: Nuekirchener Verlag. Theissen, Gerd 1983 "Christologie und Sociale Erfahrung: WissenssoziologischeAspekte Paulinischer Christologie." pp. 318-30 in Studien zur des Urchristentums. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungenzum Neuen Testaments, Erste Reihe 19. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr. Turner, J. H. 1986
The Structure of Sociological Theory. Chicago: Dorsey.
Vogelstein, H. 1884 "Notwehr nach Mosaisch-talmudischem Recht." pp. 513-53 in Monatschriftfür Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judenthums. Breslau. Walter, N. 1983
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CHAYfER8 JUDAISM, THE CIRCUMCISION OF GENTILES, AND APOCALYPT/C HOPE: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 1 Paula Fredriksen Boston University memoriae Menachem Stern sacrum.
Paul' s letter to the Galatians offers us glimpses of three precise moments in the unfolding of nascent Christianity: the negative, even hostile response to the kerygma on the part of the synagogue community in Damascus, within a few years of Jesus' execution (1:12-16); a major decision affirmed in Jerusalem concerning the halakic status and, thus, obligations of Gentile members of the movement, ca. 49 (2:1-10); and the confusions occasioned by the elose social interaction of Jewish and Gentile members within Antioch's ekklesia in the early 50s (2:11-15).2 Paul does not review these moments neutrally. They serve as his ammunition in the battle for the allegiance of the Galatian churches that he wages, mid-century, against other Christi an mis11 would like to thank Shaye J. D. Cohen, John Gager, Martin Goodman, A.-J. Levine, Daniel R. Schwartz, and Robert Tannenbaum, who endeavored to save me from the worst excesses of my own ignorance; and the members of the New Testament Seminar at Oxford University, who commented on an earlier version of this paper in June 1989. During my stay at Oxford on that occasion, word came of Menachem Stern's assassination in Jerusalem. 1 never knew Professor Stern, but as so many others in the field of Christian origins , 1 have turned often and gratefully to his magisterial Greek and Latin Authors on lews and ludaism. That work now stands as his monument. The present essay 1 offer, in sorrow, as a small token of my deepest appreciation and respect. "~T 'il' 1"J May his memory be for a blessing. 2While the sequence of events is clear the chronology remains uncertain, partly because of Paul's own ambiguous phrasing, partly because the chronology implicit in Acts compounqs the problem. See the relevant sections in W. G. Kümmel; H. D. Betz; E. Haenchen:64-71; two recent revisionist chronologies, R. Jewett and G. Lüdemann; the alder historiographical discussions of these problems in B. Rigaux and (esp. on using or not using Acts) J. Knox. On Acts, Galatians, and the Antiochene community, see J. P. Meier.
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sionaries who preach a "different gospel" (1:6 and passim): that those male Gentiles who would be saved in Christ should be circumcised, that is, convert to Judaism (5:3). Paul's position in this controversy - that salvation in Christ is through "grace" and not through "the works of the law" - has served for centuries as the fundamental statement of the difference between Christianity and Judaism. 3 But the historian and theologian know something that the actors in this drama could not; namely, that J esus Christ would not return to establish the Kingdom within: the lifetime of the first (and, according to their convictions, the only) generation of his apostles. 4 Our interpretive context for Galatians is the birth of Christianity; theirs was scriptural - that is, Jewish - hopes and expectations in the face of the approaching End of Days. To understand the episodes, issues, and arguments related in Galatians, then, we must consider Paul's statements within his own religious context, firstcentury Judaism. More specificaIly, we must consider Judaism's views on Gentiles.
3This "distinction" between Christianity and Judaism, born of mid-first-century religious polemic, continues to control much of what passes for historical studies of Christian origins, the recent work of such scholars as Uoyd Gaston, John G. Gager (1983), H. Räisänen, and E. P. Sanders notwithstanding. See esp. Sanders 1977:33-59, 434-42 and his shorter synthetic study 1983; before him, G. F. Moore' s fundamental essay 1921: 197254. 4That Jesus expected the Kingdom at or as the condusion to his own ministry has been an operating assumption of most New Testament scholarship since Albert Schweitzer. The most recent full study is E. P. Sanders 1985. I attempt to reconstruct the ways in which the continuing expectation of the End and its continuing delay affected the earliest post-resurrection community and, consequently, the kerygma, Fredriksen 1988: 133215. On the eschatology of Paul's communities in particular, esp. W. Meeks:I64-92. My use of the term "Christian" for this ftrst, transitional generation is thus necessarily anachronistic: they expected none further. Paul's own belief is vivid and dear: 1 Cor 7:31 the form of this world is passing away, and thus he can reasonably suggest that his congregants foreswear sexual activity, if they are able, in order to prepare themselves for the End, 1 Cor 7:26-29; 10:11 the end of the ages has come; so soon is it expected that some of his congregants evidently were surprised by some Christians' dying before Christ's return, 1 Thess 4:13; Paul suggests elsewhere that such deaths might be punitive, therefore exceptional, 1 Cor 11 :30; for Romans, see W. D. Davies 1984:133ff.; Sanders 1977:44lf., 549. We are accustomed to asserting that Paul expected the End within his own lifetime. What we fail to ask, however, and what needs to be accounted for, is why, mid-century, despite a) the passage of time since Christ' s resurrection and b) the failure of the mission to Israel, Paul had remained convinced: How, after a quarter-century delay, could he reasonably assert that "salvation is nearer to us now than when wefirst believed?" (Rom 13:11).
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 211 J ewish Views on Gentiles Judaism, of course, did not have views on Gentiles; Jews did. Their encounter with other nations, across cultures and centuries, resulted in a jumble of perceptions, prejudices, optative descriptions, social arrangements, and daily accommodations that we can reconstruct from the various literary and epigraphical evidence only with difficulty. To draw from this synchronie and diachronie mass a coherent (and so somewhat artificial) picture of what early first-century Jews would have thought of Gentiles, I have applied a form of the criterion of multiple attestation: if an identifiable position can be seen to exist in several different strata of Jewish material (LXX, pseudepigrapha, Josephus, Mishnah, and synagogue prayers, for example) or in material of ethnically, historicaIly, and religiously varying provenance (pre-mid-firstcentury Jewish and pagan, coincident with post-first century Jewish, pagan, and Christian), then, I will argue, that position probably obtained, at least as one among many, in the mid-first century as weIl. As with Synoptic material, the burden of proof is on the claim to historical authenticity; and the coherence of the Jewish position that I identify with the early New Testament data will be one of my proofs. The material relevant to Jewish views of Gentiles falls into two categories: quotidian and eschatologie al.
Quotidian Situations Wh at , on the average, did the average Jew think of the average Gentile? I think that we can rely here on Paul who, even when addressing Gentiles and in some sense acting as their advocate, refers to them, quite unselfconsciously, as "sinners" (Gal 2:15). Their characteristic social and sexual sins - slander, insoience, deceit, malicious gossip, envy, heartlessness, disrespect of parents, homosexual and heterosexual fornication5 are the varied expression of a more fundamental spiritual error: they worship idols. 6 5Rom 1:18-31, said speciftcally of Gentile culture; cf. the similar list, Gal 5:19-21, there characterized simply as "the works of the flesh" (T~ ep'YCi. rijc; UCi.PKOC;), Rom 13:1213 (Ta ep'YCi. TOU UKOTOVC;) , 1 Cor 6:9-11 (personal, not abstract, nouns: " idolators , adulterers, sexual perverts . . .. And such were some of you," i.e., his Corinthian Gentile Christians); cf. 1 Thess 4:5 4-6: Paul's Gentiles are to avoid not only pomeia but also, within marriage, physical passion, "unlike the Gentiles who do not know God" (BLOi/lCi.L .•. Ta BCi.VTOU UKBUOC; KTauOCi.L 8P a'YLCi.up.[iJ ••• p.~ 8/1 7raOeL 87rLOVP.LCi.C; KCi.Oa7rep Kat Ta eOw'l Ta p.~ eLOOTCi. TaP Oeop).
Such lists of vices are common in Hellenistic Jewish literature: see E. Käsemann:49f.; in Paul's letters in particular, under pomeia, Sanders 1983; for such lists in Hellenistic philosophy, Betz 281-83. 6Hence a standard rabbinic designation for "Gentile," 1"'T~' C'J::>,::> 1J'Y or, abbreviated, akkum (Ci::>Y) "a worshiper of stars and planets," applied in talmudic litera-
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Could there be such a thing, then, as a morally good Gentile? J osephus suggests that those pagans who respect Jews and Judaism are morally superior· to those who do not. Later, the rabbis discussed the question (which is to say, there were dissenting views) and for the most part concurred: Gentiles could be righteous, and as such they would have a place in the world to come.1 When the focus of rabbinic discussion shifts from "real Gentiles considered in principle" to the imagined circumstances of the ger toshav or ben Noach, the abandonment of idolatry seems to be the measure of such righteousness: it features prominently in the various lists of the Noachite commandments. 8 The rules for the ger toshav describe the ideal behavior of pagan residents in Palestine, to be observed or enforced (according to later rabbinic traditions) when the Jubilee year would be kept, that is, in aperiod of Jewish sovereignty.9 Such "legislation," drawn up as it was after the wars with Rome, was thus in many ways a form of wistful thinking. In reallife, Gentiles had another option: They could convert. Conversi on to Judaism in antiquity was a common enough phenomenon to provide the material for sarcastic or satirical remarks - Horace's on modes of persuasion; Juvenal's on the effects of parents' bad habits on children,l° Rabbinic law specified as halakic requirements for those who would join Israel instruction in the mitzvot and accompanying ritual acts: immersion; while the
70n Josephus, Cohen 1987:409-30. T. Sanh. 13.2 gives the debate between two first-century rabbis, R. Eliezer and R. Joshua. See also Sanders 1977:206-12, further developed in 1985:212-221 (esp., on this debate, 1985:215: "The point of the Rabbinic passage is to pair that saying [i. e., Eliezer' s denial of Gentile righteousness and redemption] with the opposite one by R. Joshua, to the effect that there are righteous Gentiles who will share in the world to come"). 8The Noachite commandments establish certain minimal standards of moral behavior enjoined on non-Jews, Sanh. 56-60. The seven tradition al rules prohibit idolatry, blasphemy, violent bloodshed, sexual sins, theft, and eating from a living animal, and enjoin the formation of law courts, b. Sanh. 56b. Cf. AvZar 8(9):4-6; iub. 7:20ff.; cf. James's ruling in Acts 15:20. See Tannenbaum 1987:48, 59; Goodman 1989b:182; Cohen 1989:22. David Novak provides a comprehensive discussion (1983). 9bArakin 29a; discussion in Tannenbaum: 48; Moore 1927:1:339-40; Schürer 3.1:171-72 (from now on, HiP). 10Horace , Satires 1.4.142-43 ("like the Jews we shall force you to join our crowd" cogemus in hanc concedere turbam). John Nolland has argued that this jibe targets Jewish political, not religious, persuasion, 1979:347-55. Juvenal complains that the sons of judaizing fathers actually convert fully to Judaism, Sat. 14.96-106 (n. 13 below). See too Gager 1983:56ff.; HiP 3:162-65, 169; also the material cited in Stern, below n. 13.
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 213 Temple stood, sacrifice; and finally, for the male convert, milah, circumcision. ll Circumcision is likewise singled out in Hellenistic Jewish, pagan, and Chiistian literature as the premier mark of the Jew, and specifically of the convert to Judaism. According to both Juvenal and Josephus, the decision to receive circumcision is what distinguishes, quite precisely, the sympathizer from the convert. 12 Philo speaks warmly of the proselyte: he is to be welcomed and esteemed as one who spiritually recapitulated the journey of Abraham, quitting his idolatrous homeland and traveling "to a better .home ... to the worship of the one truly existing God" (Virt. 20.102-04; also, e.g., Spec. 1.5254). The "true proselyte" is inc1uded as part of the community iIi. the thirteenth benediction of the chief synagogue prayer, the Amidah or Shemoneh Esreh. 13 The convert had certain legal disabilities with respect to marriage (in particular, with priestly families), but in most other respects was integrated and integrable. As such, he or she becomes irrelevant to this disllSifre Num. 108 on 15:14; m. Ker. 2:1; b. Ker. 9a; b. Yebam. 46a-b. Circumcision stands last in my list for rhetorical reasons; in reality, it precedes immersion. That conversion requires acceptance of the whole,Torah is frequently emphasized, HiP 3.175 n. 93 for many references; so too Paul, Gal 5:3 "every man who receives circumcision [i.e., converts to Judaism] ... is bound to keep the whole Law." Further primary references in HiP 3.170 n. 78 (Mishnah). On the phenomenon of conversion to Judaism in antiquity, the older discussions in Moore 1927:1.33lff.; Bamberger; Braude; Kuhn:727-44; more recently Gager 1983:55-66; Schiffman:122-39, revised and expanded in 1985:19-40. See too CoIlins:163-86; Cohen 1989; Goodman 1989a:4-19 and notes; 1989b. The proposal that some proselytes in some communities need not have been circumcised, put forth most recently by McEleney:328-33; Borgen: 85-102, esp. 85-89, has been sufficiently refuted by Schiffman and Nolland 1981: 173-94. The question of female conversions is more problematic. Cohen (1984:19-53, esp. 25-29) has pointed out that nonrabbinic materials seem to assurne the usual method to be marriage to a Jewish male. 12"Quidam sortiti metuentem sabbata patrem ... mox et praeputia ponunt; ... Iudaicum ediscunt et sevant ac metuunt ius," Juvenal, Sat. 14.96, 99, 101; Josephus, on Izates' receiving circumcision as the final stage in his conversion, Ant. 20.38-42 (see too NOlland 1981); on circumcision for conversion in other cases, 11.285; 13.257-58 and 318-19; 15.254-55; 20.139 and 145-46. See esp. Cohen 1987:419ff.; 1989:25ff. On the Christian perception of circumcision as the prime identifier of the Jew more above' for the non-Christian outsider's perspective, the material collected in Ste~:nos. 55, 56: 81, 115 (37) (Strabo wrongly construes female circumcision, i.e. excision, as weIl), 117 (same author, same mistake), 124 (again), 129, 146, 176, 190, 193-5, 240, 241, 243, 245; 2, no. 281 (Tacitus, who comments on circumcision both of the born Jew and of the convert). 13"Over the righteous and over the pious; and over the elders of thy people of the house of Israel; and over the remnant of their Torah scholars; and over the righteous proselytes; and over us [i.e., the praying community] may thy mercy shower down, Lord our God." Text from HiP 2.457; for the addition of proselytes to the benediction Meg. 17b. '
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cussion, because the Gentile who converts is no longer a Gentile, but a Jew.1 4 Some scholars take this well-attested fact of conversion to Judaism together with other data to mean that J ews actively sponsored actual missions to Gentiles: Judaism, they contend, was a missionary religion. According to this line of reasoning, missions are implied by ancient demography: the Jewish population increased "vastly" from the time of the Babylonian Exile to the early Imperial period; only aggressive proselytism can account for such an increase. The significant body of Hellenistic Jewish writings supports this view: it is the literary remains of.an active campaigx;t to attract Gentiles to Judaism. The effectiveness of this campaign in . turn accounts for ancient pagan anti-Semitism: pagans resented Judaism's success. And finally Mt 23: 15 states what this evidence otherwise strongly implies: Jews would cross sea and land to make a single convert. They actively proselytized Gentiles.1 5 14See HIP 3.175 and nn.93-101 for rabbinic discussion of rights, duties, and disabilities of the convert who, upon the completion of immersion (since sacrifice was no longer possible) "is in all respects like an Israelite, " Yeb 47b. Similarly Philo, Virt. 20.103; Josephus, Ap. 2.210, 261; also I. W. 2.388, where Agrippa II refers to the princes of Adiabene as OP.OCPVAOL; after Achior converts and is circumcised he is considered to be "joined to the house of Israel," Idt 14:10; cf. Justin Martyr's lament that converts to Judaism strive in all ways to be like "native" Jews, Dialogue with Trypho 122. Isa 56:37 asserts that tbose who have joined Israel will be gathered in with them at the End: more on this prophetic verse and its relation to conversion in antiquity below, n. 38. While Cohen acknowledges the proselyte's equality in principle (1989:28-29), he questions it in reality: the fact that proselytes are designated as such in inscriptions, he argues, points to their continuing ambiguity: "In the eyes of (sorne?) Jews, a gentile who converted to Judaism became not a Jew but a proselyte, that is, a Jew of a particular sort" (30). I take this as a distinction without much difference: where categories within Israel are given (e.g., Damascus Covenant 14.3-6), proselytes indeed stand in their own category, coming after priests, Levites, and Israelites; but in a binary system (Israel and not-Israel) proselytes are part of Israel. I do not know what kind of evidence would satisfactorily demonstrate "that the proselyte achieved real equality with the native born" (29), esp. since, as Cohen construes his epigraphical data, a "truly equal" convert would be one not designated "convert" in an inscription: he or she, for the purposes of this question, would thus be invisible. Final1y, given the unambiguous emphasis on circumcision for male conversion that Cohen acknowledges (26-27), his inc1usion of "godfearers" (a.k.a. "sympathizers" and "adherents" passim) within his seventh category ("Becoming a Jew") is inconsistent and confusing. 15The issue is not whether Jews encouraged admiration of their religious cult and culture - c1early they did - but whether this is tantamount to "mission" as the word is normally understood and used, implying c1ear ideological commitments to religious advertising and solicitation, self-conscious organization - the image drawn, in other words, from later Christian practice. Besides the older studies of Jewish proselytism cited above, also Hahn (esp. 21-25); the more recent work of Georgi:83-228; Cohen 1983; . Feldman (I thank Prof. Feldman for allowing me to consult and cite his MS.). Jeremias states: "This was a wholly new phenomenon: Judaism was the first great missionary religion to make its appearance in the Mediterranean world" (11). He cites in support Moore 1927:1.323; but Moore's view is more nuanced, see n. 24 below.
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 215 ~ut receiving and encouraging converts is one thing; actively soliciting them IS another. Do data attesting to J ewish influence or, conversely, to Jews' awareness of their wider cultural environment, require missionary enterprise as explanation? To address the data in the sequence in which I presented them above: (1) A supposed increase in the J ewish population over more than half a millennium should count neither as a phenomenon that needs to. b~ explained by an appeal to massive conversions (and so, qal vahomer, to roIsslOns), nor as a datum supporting the missionary hypothesis. We simply cannot know enough about ancient populations to make the argument.l 6 (2) He~lenistic Jewish literature of the sort that argues the superiority of Judaism to Idolatry, of Jewish religious and ethical notions to their pagan counterparts,17 reveals only one voice in the sparring of competitive middle-brow salon cultures. It aims to inspire respect and admiration for Judaism, presented as an ethical philosophy; its intellectual and literary pretensions indicate how smalI, relatively, the audience for such writings must have been. 18 (3) As for pagan "anti-Semitism," the supposed response of Gentile culture to Jewish missionary success, most of the writers cited in support of such are culturally xenophobie: passages satirizing circumcision and abstention from P?rk target not Jews or Jewish customs per se, but anything perceived as forelgn, hence threatening.l 9 Finally (4) Matthew's Pharisees evidently do seek
. 16S~e Georgi (83ff; nn.4-15). Reliance on so-called demographical data for this penod IS extreme1y hazardous. Harnack; Juster; and Baron are the loei classici for this data; see ?OW HJP 2.1-19, on Palestine, 3.3-86 on the Diaspora. 17Whl~h are usually condemned (hence the vice lists, mentioned earlier) or, at best, d~ned w~th what am~unts to faint praise; i.e., where the Greeks got something right (philosophlCal ~onothelsm, for example) they relied on Jewish learning and revelation. He~ce the tradItIons that a Greek translation of Jewish scriptures existed before Ptolemy Philadelphus (285-246 BC~) commissioned the LXX: Homer, Hesiod, Pythagoras, Socrates, ~d Pl~to had ObvlOusly had some access to Torah! (Aristobolus, a 3rd - 2nd c. BCE Jewlsh wnter, p!eserv"ed in ~usebius, Praep. Ev. 13:12, 1-16). Sometimes pagans even ~onceded the pomt: What IS Plato," asked Numenius of Apamaea "but Moses speaking Greek?" (apud Clement, Strom. 1.72,4). ' . 18See too Tannenbaum's remarks (60). Put differently: Ioseph and Asenath does mdeed "argue" ~at ,~o~v~rsion ~o Judaism is prefe:able to continuing in idolatry. But does that make It a mlssl0nary tract? Is persuaslOn by one literate minority directed toward another tantamount to "missionary activity?" Only in a limited sense. But scholars who maintain the existence of Jewish missions think in terms of vast numbers To the degree that this literature had a target, that target would have been individual~ rather than. populations; and its primary intended audience might have been internal its goal to aff~ Jewish identity in the Diaspora. See, e.g., V. Tcherikover (169-93);' cf. for the 0pposlte argu~ent, e.~., :-e1dI?an ~S 20-24) and the literature cited (nn. 43-54). See too the remar~ mtrod~cmg Jewlsh Llterature composed in Greek" in HIP 3.470ff.; ~so ~60, persuadmg Gentiles to the fundamental viewpoints of Judaism (esp. re: ethical hfe) IS not tantamount to converting them to Torah. 1.9Cf. Seneca's rem~ks, Ep. Mo~. 108,22, Stern 1, no. 189; Tacitus, Annals 2.2,85 mentlons a ban on Jewlsh and Egyptlan practices; on the cultural xenophobia of Roman
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converts. But they do so in a passage of highly-charged rhetoric, within a document whose social situation is difficult to reconstruct. Whether real Pharisees - or, for that matter, Jews generally - sought converts is a question that Matthew cannot help us with. 20 If the external evidence for J ewish missions is unobliging, the internal evidence is no less so. "One of the great puzzles of the proselytizing movement is how to explain the existence of a mass movement when we do not know the name of a single Jewish missionary, unless, of course, we except Paul. "21 Beyond not knowing who missionized, we do not know how. We might expect, at least from the rabbis - those J ews of antiquity evidently most concerned about categories, boundary-formation, and halakic precision - prescriptions for and legal discussion of correct missionary practice, if missionizing were anormal and widespread Jewish activity; in fact, we find nothing. Rather , the rabbis' (perhaps idealized) accounts describe the procedure to follow once a Gentile requests conversion: by implication, the initiative is the Gentile's, not the Jewish community's.22 Further, the earlier Jewish evidence both of Josephus on the royal house of Adiabene and the broader data of the earlier New Testament writings evinces the improvisational character of "Jewish outreach." If conversions were the result of misliterati, Gager 1983:Part TI. 20See now esp. A.-J. Levine. Levine conjectures that such activity was an ad hoc response to preceding missions by Mt's group. Similarly Martin Goodman, on thirdcentury rabbinie statements that seem to favor actual missions: "One new factor that might have encouraged this novel attitude is that the rabbis in Palestine were by now aware of the success of some Christians in winning pagans . . .. [T]he effectiveness of the Church's methods may have gradually changed the religious assumptions of some nonChristians in the ancient world" (185). Pagan evidence on Jewish proselytism is no easier to assess. Valerius Maximus suggests that Jews were expelled from Rome in 139 BCE who "Romanis tradere sacra sua conati sunt" or "qui Sabazi Iovis cultu Romanos inficere mores conati erunt": Was this effective influence or active missionizing? Astrologers were likewise expelled (loc. cit.; Stern 1. nos. 147a-b; also discussion 359f.). These passages are preserved in two epitomes drawn up some 500 years after Valerius' lifetime, wen into the Christian era. Dio Cassius also says that Tiberius expeIled the Jews from Rome in 19 CE because they were converting many Romans (TWII T8 'Iov~aLwll 7rOAAWII Be; T1J1I ·pwP.WII UVII8A(}OIlTWII Kat UlJ)(1I0Ue; TWJI B7rLXWPLWJI Be; Ta u4JiT8pa e(}T/ p.8(}wn5tIlTWJI, TOUe; 7rAeLOllae; B~r,AaU8J1, Historia Romana 57.18:5a, Stern 1. no. 419). They may have been; but, again, receiving converts is not necessarily synonymous with missionizing. 21Feldman, MS p. 19, who goes on to tadde the problem (cf. Feldman 1992:381) .. 1 would except Paul: he is Jewish, his gospel is quintessentially Jewish; but it is hIS anonymous competition, the circumcisers, who preach Judaism to the Gentiles, not he. 22Yeb. 47a: "When a man comes in these times seeking to convert, he is asked, "What is your motive? Do you not know that Israel is now afflicted, distressed, downtrodden ... ?" If he answers, 'I know ... " they accept him at once."
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHERLOOKATGALATIANS 1 AND 2 217 sions as opposed to the free-Iance, amateur, non-institutionally-based efforts of individuals or the side-effect of unstructured contact through Diaspora synagogue communities23 - we should be able to have a better sense of how such Jewish missions proceeded. Again, on the evidence of Paul's letters, no one, when faced with a missionary situation (which, according to this line of argument, would have to be accounted for) apparently knew quite what to do. And finally, to mention here a point that I will develop shortly, Judaism had little reason, ideologically or theologically, to solicit converts. Between these two extremes of fornicating idolators and full converts we find a gradient of Gentile affiliation with Judaism, especially in the Diaspora. Synagogues drew interested outsiders. Some, as the Greek Magical Papyri perhaps show, might attend out of a sort of professional interest, in order to make the acquaintance of a powerful god in whose name they could command demons. 24 Others, as Philo mentions in his Life of Moses, were drawn by the public Jewish festivals, like the one held on Pharos near Alexandria to celebrate the translation into Greek of the Bible. 25 But others, well-attested in literary and epigraphic data, formed an identifiable, if liminal, group of adherents. Their ancient designations vary: ~oßovp.evOL, ueßDp.evoL, or, in inscriptions, Oeoueße'i<;; in Latin, metuentes; in Hebrew, C'i'JtV 'N1' "fearers of heaven." I am speaking, of course, of the "Godfearers. "26 23S 0 Moore: "[T]he belief in the future universality of the true religion, the coming of an age when 'the Lord shall be king over all the earth,' led to efforts to convert the Gentiles . . . and made Judaism the first great missionary religion of the Mediterranean world. When it is called a missionary religion, the phrase must, however, be understood with a difference. The lews did not send out missionaries . . .. They were themselves settled by.thousands in all the great centres and in innumerable smaller cities . . .. Their religious influence was exerted chiefly through the synagogues, which they set up for themselves, but which were open to all whom interest or curiosity drew to their services, " (1927:1.323-24, emphasis mine). This is the point that Jeremias either missed or misunderstood, above n. 16. Izates' wives evidently become sympathizers through Ananias while at Charax; Helena's contact is unnamed; once back in Adiabene, Izates is urged to convert through contact with an itinerant Jewish merchant, Ant. 20.34-35,49-53. 24"Adjure demons by the god of the Hebrews ... [and say]: 'I adjure thee by him who appeared to Osrael in the pillar of light and in the doud by day [cf. Ex 13:21-22] .. " I adjure thee by the seal which Solomon laid upon the tongue of Jeremiah [sie] and he spoke,''' PMP TI.3007-85. The anonymous pagan author (3rd c. CE) may weIl have copied out his charm from a Jewish magical handbook; but the confusions in biblical chronology inc1ine me to suspect that he relied on impressions and memories from scriptural readings in a synagogue service. See now on these texts Gager 1991. 25 "Therefore, even to the present day, there is held every year a feast and general assembly on the island of Pharos, whither not only Jews but multitudes of others cross the water, both to do honor to the place where the light of that.version [seil. LXX] first shone out, and to thank God for the good gift so old yet ever new," 2.41. 26For an overview of the current interpretive debate, see the artic1es in BAR 12 (1986); for further discussion and bibliography, HIP 3.150-76, esp. 165ff.; also the leng-
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Who are the Godfearers? They are Gentiles, but not proselytes; if they were proselytes, they would then be Jews. To think of them as "semiproselytes" is unhelpful: the word suggests some sort of arrested development or objective impediment. These people were voluntary Judaizers. According to both Philo and especially Josephus, they could be found in significant numbers in any urban center where a Jewish community lived. 27 Some of these people. assurne - again I emphasize voluntarily - certain Jewish religious practices: ancient data speak most often of dietary restricti.ons, the Sabbath, and the festivals. 28 Since they are not Jews, their observance of Jewis~ law is not regulated by Jewish law: halakically, -they are literally anomalous. 29 The Aphrodisias inscription presents further evidence of the Godfearers' anomaly, their Law-freeness. 30 This stone lists the names of Jews and Godfearers - contributors, perhaps, to a fund-drive for the establishment of a soup kitchen for the poor. Among the Jews are given three proselytes, who have assumed Jewish names; and, listed separately, fifty-four (}eoaeße'ic;, that is, participating Gentiles. Two of these appear as weIl among the names of those belonging to the oeKavLa (probably the prayer quorum); nine others are thy note to Juvenal in Stern, 2, 103-107. 27E.g., Ant. 14.7,2 U8ßOJ.L8Vot contribute to the Temple; i. W. 2.18,2 iouoodroVT8t; can be found in every city in Syria; 7.3,3 Greeks attend synagogue services in Antioch and after their fashion become part of the community. Ap. 2.39 (282) is ambiguous: he might refer either to adherence (hence Godfearers) or conversion (hence proselytes) when he speaks of the spread of Jewish observances in Gentile populations. See HiP 3.166-68 for review of this and the inscriptional data. Luke, in Acts, also refers to the ubiquity of Godfearers, 10:2,22; 13:16,26,43,50; 16:14; 17:4, 17; 18:7. Kraabel offers an astute analysis of the Godfearers' function in Acts as a theological middle tenn between Judaism and Christianity, but he conc1udes from this observation that they had no existence in fact (113-26). In light of all the other data, reports of the Godfearers' demise seem greatly exaggerated. 28C. Ap. 2.39 (282) mentions Sabbath, food 1aws, and festivals; similarly Tertullian, ad Nat. 1.13,3-4; Juvenal Sat. 14.96-106, cited above nn. 10 and 12. 29"The purpose of halakah is to detennine whether or not a biblical passage does in fact constitute a commandment, if there can be any doubt; to establish the application of a biblical commandment; to define its precise scope and meaning; and to determine precisely what must be done in order to fulfill it," Sanders 1977:76. We should not be surprised, then, at the absence of halakah (whether rabbinie or other) on such topics as the status of Godfearers within the synagogue community, on the one hand, or of the way Gentiles wou1d enter into the Kingdom of God, on the other. We find, rather , ad hoc social arrangements in the first instance, and opinions (bad Gentiles destroyed; other Gentiles liberated from the blindness of idolatry, and so participants) in the second: neither constitutes an halakic issue. See below n. 44. 30Por the text of this inscription, Reynolds and Tannenbaum: 5-7; Tannenbaum's translation of the fIrst eight lines (41); for a survey of other pertinent inscriptions (25ft).
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 219 identified as ßovAev7ai, members of the town counci1. 31 This last is most intriguing, since it indicates that Gentiles whose status in the larger urban COn1munity necessitated their public idolatry (their office would require their presence at sacrifices to the gods of the 1rOALC; and the empire) could at the same time be active (if not, perhaps, fully integrated) participants in the synagogue community and worshipers, after their fashion, of the Jewish God. Scattered literary evidence supports this view. The centurion Comelius, for e~ample, described as a "fearer of God" who prays constantly and supports the POOl:, whether fictive or not, would have been understood by Luke's ancient audience to be a public pagan too, since as an officer he would have participated in his unit's military cultuS. 32 Pagan and later Christi an sources speak mockingly of Gentiles who worship in the synagogue and at traditional altars both. Tertullian in North Africa and, centuries later, Cyril of Alexandria comment bitterlyon the inconsistency of such practices; while Commodian - who can be placed reasonably in either the third century or the fifth - criticizes J ews for tolerating this behavior. 33 The fogginess of rabbinical discussion of Godfearers reinforces this impression: their association with the synagogue was voluntary, their status ambiguous (since, as Gentiles - and unlike proselytes - they were not subject to the strictures of Torah) , their religious allegiances various. 34 Despite the Jewish horror of 310n the 08KOlVLOl, Tannenbaum:28-38; the ßOUA8UrcxL, (54ff). 32Acts 10:1-4, 22, 31; observed by Tannenbaum:63. So too with Luke's centurion at Capernaum who "loves Israel" and builds a synagogue (Lk 7:5; cf. Mt 8:5-13). 33Tertullian, ad Nationes 1.13, 3-4. Some pagans keep the sabhath and Passover, yet continue to worship at traditional altars; Cyril, de adoratione in spiritu et veritate 3.92, 3. Men in Phonecia and Palestine, calling themselves (}80U8ß8Lt; follow consistently neither Jewish nor Greek religious custom. Commodian mocks those who "live between both ways" : they rush from synagogue to pagan shrine, "medius Iudaeus" (lnstructiones 37.1). He adds, disapprovingly, that the Jews tolerate such behavior ("Dicant illi tibi si iussum est deos adorare," 37.10). On dating Commodian, Brisson:378-410. Gentiles evidently continued in their Judaizing ways even after conversion to Christianity: Ignatius, Magn. 10:3 ("It is foolish to talk of Jesus Christ and to Judaize"); Phld. 6: 1 ("If anyone should undertake to interpret Judaism to you, do not listen to hirn. For it is better to hear of Christianity from a man who has been circumcised [= a Jew or a convert to Judaism, become Christian] than to hear of Judaism from someone uncircumcised [= a pagan Judaizer]"). Chrysostom, in 386, delivered eight bitter sermons during the autumn High Holidays against those members of his church (7rOAAOL, as he says frequently) who attend synagogues and observe Jewish festivals and fasts. See discussion in Meeks and Wilken:25-36; also 85-126 for translations of Sennons 1 and 8). Justin, more than two centuries earlier, discusses a number of types of Gentile Christian affiliation with Judaism, up to and inc1uding full conversion to Tr,V evvoJ.Lov 'iTOAtT8LOlV, asserting that even such proselytes will be saved as long as they be1ieve fully in Christ. He frankly admits, however, that other Christians do not share his liberal views, Dial. 4647. 34"Halakically they're easy to defme. They're Gentiles. Period" (Shaye Cohen, personal correspondence). But· there are Gentiles and Gentiles, and obviously a pious
I
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idolatry, Jews evidently made room in the synagogue for those Gentiles who, like Naaman, worshipedYHWH as a god among gods. Idolatrous pagans condemned in the abstract, ideally forbidden residence in the Holy Land, welcomed fully as Jews should they decide to convert, tolerated (and evidently solicited for tzedakah) ' should they stay in the synagogue's penumbra as affiliated outsiders. Let us consider Gentiles now in a different situation: Can they, ultimately, be redeemed? What happens to Gentiles at the End? Eschatological Situations The idiom of Jewish restoration theology draws on the images and experience of the Babylonian captivity. "Redemption" is imaged concretely: not only from sin, and from evil, but from exile. The twelve tribes are restored, the people gathered back to the Land, the Temple, and Jerusalem are renewed and made splendid, the Davidic monarchy restored: God' s kingdom is established. 35 What place, if any, do Gentiles have in such a Kingdom? We can cluster the material around two poles. 36 At the negative extreme, the nations are destroyed, defeated, or in some way subjected to Israel. Foreign monarchs liek the dust at Israel's feet (Isa 49:23; cf. Mic 7:16f.); Gentile cities are devastated, or repopulated by Israel (Isa 54:3; Zeph 2:1-3:8); God destroys the nations and their idols (Mie 5:9, 15). Many passages from the prophets and the pseudepigrapha bespeaking such destruction,37 however, are followed closely by others describing the Gentiles' sympathizer would raise questions for his host community that a totally unaffiliated Gentile would not. See Goodman's nuanced speculations on this issue (1989a:40-44; 1989b). 350n the themes of Jewish restoration theology, Sanders 1985:77-119, 222-41 (a reconstruction of Jesus's views within this traditional perspective); HIP 2.514-46; Fredriksen 1988:77-86. 36For, other florilegia on the same theme, but organized differently, Sanders 1985:214; Donaldson:110, nn. 43-50; Jeremias:46-75. 37Sirach 36:1-10 a malediction against the nations ("Rouse thy anger and pour out thy . wrath; destroy the adversary and wipe out the enemy"); 1 Enoch 91 :9: "All that which is with the heathen shall be surrendered; the towers shall be inflamed with [ITe and be removed from the whole earth. They shall be thrown into the judgment of fire, and perish in wrath ... "; Baruch 4:25, 31-35: "Your enemy has overtaken you, but you will soon see their destruction and will tread upon their necks . . .. Wretched will be those whö afflicted you ... fire will come upon her [the enemy city] for many days"; Sib. Or. 3:517-40 the nations will see themse1ves subject to destruction, outrages, and slavery. Sib. Or. 669: God will destroy the kings ringed round Jerusalern. Sib. Or. 761: God will burn with fire a race of grievous men; Iub. 23:30: "The Lord's servants ... will drive out their enemies ... and they will see all of their judgments and all of their curses among their enemies"; Pss. Sol. 7:30: the messiah "will have gentile nations serving . under his yoke"; I QM 12:10-13: "Rejoice, all you cities of Judah; keep your gates ever
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 221 eschatological inclusion. Perhaps, then, such texts envisage the destruction of the unrighteous Gentiles alone, not of all Gentiles tout court; and T. Mos. 10:'7 speaks of the destruction only of idols, not idolators. At the positive extreme, the nations participate in Israel's redemption. The nations will stream to J erusalem and worship the God of J acob together with Israel (Isa 2:2-4//Mic 4:1ff.); on God's mountain (i.e., the Temple mount), they will eat together the feast that God has prepared for them (Isa 25:6). As the Jews leave the lands of their dispersion, Gentiles will accompany them: "In those days ten men from the nations of every tongue shall take hold of the robe of a Jew, saying, 'Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you'" (Zech 8:23). Or, otherwise, the nations, carry the exiles back to Jerusalem themselves (Pss. Sol. 7:31-41). Burying their idols, "all people shall direct their sight to the path of uprightness" (1 Enoch 91:14). Who are these redeemed Gentiles? Are they the ones who had already converted to Judaism before the Kingdom came? No: such a Gentile, though a special sort of Jew (that is, a proselyte) would already "count" as a Jew. To say that a proselyte is not in the category of "Gentiles redeemed at the End" is thus a tautology. I take this to be the point of a passage often cited in support of an End-time mission to convert Gentiles, Isa 56:3-7. Given the present force of the subordinate verbs and the future action of the main verb ("those who join ... I will save"), these verses are better construed as speaking to the place of those quondam Gentiles - be they foreigners or even eunuchs - who have already converted at some indeterminate time before the End. God assures them that they will be gathered together with the nativeborn whell final redemption comes. "The foreigner who has joined hirnself to the Lord ... the eunuchs who keep my sabbaths and hold fast my covenant . .. I will give them an everlasting name; ... the foreigners who join, ... every one who keeps the sabbath and holds fast my covenant, these I will
open, that the hosts of the nations may be brought in. Their kings shall serve you; and all your oppressors shall bow down before you." .Biblical passages and citations from the apocrypha from the Oxford RSV; pseudepigrapha from Charlesworth.
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bring to my holy mountain. "38 Are the saved Gentiles the ones R. J oshua would have had in mind, when he spoke of the righteous of the nations having a share in the world to come (t. Sanh. 13.2)? I think not. That context implies that Gentiles who are righteous in this present world, that is, who eschew the worship of idols now, will be redeemed then, in the future, at the End. The passages in the prophets, Tobit, Sir ach , and the pseudepigrapha, however, imply a different sequence of events: at the End, the Lord of Israel reveals bimself in glory, and it is that revelation which prompts the nations to oury their idols. 39 So too, as I construe it, the second paragraph of the synagogue prayer, the
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What the "historical" Isaiah might have intended by these verses I do not know. My point is that an ancient reader whether of the LXX or the MT would have little reason to think (as New Testament scholars, to account for Paul's activity, frequently assert they did) that Isaiah here prophesies an End-time mission to the Gentiles. 39Isa 45:22: "Turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth! For I am God, there is no other"; 49:6 (and elsewhere): "I will give you [Israel] as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth"; Zeph 3:9: "At that time I will change the speech of the peoples to a pure speech, that all of them may call upon the name of the Lord and serve hirn with one accord"; Zech 8:20-22: "Peoples shall yet come, even the inhabitants of many cities. The inhabitants of one shall go to another, saying, 'Let us go at once to entreat the favor of the Lord of hosts; I am going.' Many peoples and strong nations shall come to seek the Lord of hosts in Jerusalern ... "; Tob. 13:11: "Many nations will come from afar to the name of the Lord God, bearing gifts in their hands." Tob. 14:5-6: The Temple will be rebuilt forever; "Then all the Gentiles will turn in fear to the Lord God in truth, and will bury their idols"; Sir. 36:11-17 calls upon God to make good on his promises through the prophets, to restore Jerusalern and his people so that "all who are on the earth will know that you are the Lord, the God of the ages"; Sib. Or. 3:616 after the coming of the Great King, the nations will "bend a white knee ... to God"; Sib. Or. 715-24 the nations will send votive offerings to the Temple and process there; they will renounce their idols; Sib. Or. 772: "From every land they will bring incense and gifts to the house of the great God. "
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 223 Alenu: first God's final revelation, and then the repudiation of images. 40 Do all Gentiles then become Jews at this point? Is this not conversion, if these "eschatological Gentiles" enter the Kingdom and turn to Israel' s Go~? Again, I think not. All the material we have reviewed - biblical and extrabiblical Jewish writings, Josephus, the rabbis, and outsiders whether pagan or Christian - emphasize circumcision as the sine qua non of becoming a Jew. 41 But the (male) Gentiles' eschatological acknowledgement of God and consequent repudiation of idols would not (theoretically) alter their halakic status, which can change only through conversion, hence circumcision. Zech 14 does envisage, peculiarly, these redeemed Gentiles keeping Sukkot: but I have found no tradition anticipating universal il"7;) 11'1:1. Given the precise focus on circumcision as the mark of the (male) convert, one would expect this. But Jews did not expect this, and so no such tradition exists. 42 They looked forward, rather, to the nations' spiritual, and hence moral, "conversion": Gentiles at the End turnfrom idolatry (and the sins associated with it) and turn to the living God. But moral conversion is not halakic conversion; and non-idolatrous Gentiles are Gentiles nonetheless. When God establishes his kingdom, then, these two groups will together constitute "his people": Israel, redeemed from exile, and the Gentiles, redeemed from idolatry.43 Gentiles are saved as Gentiles: they do not, eschatologically, become Jews. 40"We hope, therefore, Lord our God, soon to behold thy majestic glory, when the abominations shall be removed from the earth and the false gods exterminated; when the world shall be perfected under the reign of the Almighty, and all humankind (,fz.1J 'lJ will call upon thy name . . .. May they bend knee and prostrate themse1ves and give honor to thy glorious name. May they all accept the yoke of thy kingdom, and do thou reign over them speedily and forever ... " (Siddur ha-shalem, in Birnbaum). 4lAgain, the situation of female converts is harder to reconstruct, since the ritual and social acts, whatever they would have been at whatever period and place, simply do not receive the attention that circumcision does in these various texts. The much-misinterpreted episode concerning Izates, however, does conform to the principle I sketch here: Josephus does not depict Ananias "allowing" Izates to be a convert without circumcision, while Eleazar insists on it; rather, Ananias we1comes Izates as a sympathizer precisely to preserve the king's status as a Gentile, and thus lessen the risk of provoking popular incident (Ant. 20.38-41); Eleazar teils hirn that, if he would be a Jew, he must convert, i.e., be circumcised (42-47). 42Retractandum est: "The tradition Paul's opponents criticize hirn for violating is the same one he invokes to legitimate his position: Jewish missionary practice in the face of the coming End of Days" (Fredriksen 1986:29f). I knew such a tradition, because I had studied early Judaism at university; Paul and his co-religionists, deprived of my educational advantages, did not. Sanders errs similarly: In Paul's view, he says, the church was "not established by admitting Gentiles to Israel according to the flesh, as standard Jewish eschatological expectation would have it," 1983:178, my emphasis; cf. 198. 43Thus Zech 2: 11 concerns eschatological inclusion, not conversion: "Many nations (e{)/l7J; Heb. 0"11) shall join themselves to the Lord on that day, and they shall be my
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I want to emphasize this last point, because as far as I can see it has been universally missed. From the notes at the bottom of the Oxford RSV to virtually every secondary discussion in books or journal artic1es, interpreters routinely slip from seeing the eschatological inclusion of Gentiles as meaning eschatological conversion. 44 This is a category error. Saved Gentiles are not Jews. They are Gentiles; they just do not worship idols any more. The speculations in b. Yebamoth 24b that in the messianic age Israel will not receive proselytes shows how unselfconsciously those rabbis assumed that Gentiles, too, would be present in the Kingdom; because, of course, only a Gentile could be a candidate for conversion. To sum up the two main points of this section: First, with respect to the quotidian situation of Godfearers in Diaspora synagogues, these Gentiles were free to observe as much or ßS little of Jewish custom as they chose; but, most specifically, they were not expected to abandon their ancestral observances if they chose to assurne certain Jewish ones. 45 No consistent set of requirements was demanded of them; they could (and evidently some did) worship idols as weIl as the God of Israel, and yet still form a group within some synagogue communities. Their affiliation was completely voluntary; in Nock's terms, they were adherents, not converts (6-7). Eschatological Gentiles, on the other hand, those who would gain admission to the Kingdom once it was established, would enter as Gentiles. They would worship and people (Aao<;; Heb. 0:17)." Isa 66:19, 21 might be taken to imply some sort of eschatological mission to the nations, and their subsequent conversion, but the passage is difficult: "I shall send survivors to the nations ... and they shall declare my glory to the nations .... " The nations will carry the exiles back to Jerusalern, and "some of them also I will take for priests and Levites. " The last verse in particular is extraordinary, since in the normal course of events even for native Jews the status of cohen or levi is hereditary . 44E.g., the RSV notes on Zeph 3:8-13 and Tob 14:6. Historians who explain proselytism by asserting that Jews conducted missions to Gentiles appeal to these verses as support, claiming them as the biblical source of Judaism's supposed missionary ideal. I have not traced this interpretation back to its source in the academic literature, but the misunderstanding of these scriptural passages is at least as old as Justin Martyr, who both castigates Trypho for the Jewish failure to missionize Gentiles as Christians are doing, and argues that such missions are proof that the Church has rea1ized the eschatological promises to Israel (and thus that the messiah really has come) because Gentiles, through Christ, now abandon their idols, Dia!. 122-23. A study of the LXX's use of 87rL0"7peljJw and related words (which I cannot undertake here) would go far to clear up this ambiguity: "tuming to" and "converting," esp. in an apocalyptic context, are two quite different things. 45S 0 too Gentiles were free to go up to the Temple and worship in Jerusalern without the expectation of an exc1usive allegiance to the God of Israel: see HiP 1.176, 378; 2.222, 284f.
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 225 eat together with Israel, in Jerusalem, at the Temple. The God they worship, the God of Israel, will have redeemed them from the error of idolatry: he wiiI have saved them - to phrase this in slightly different idiom - graciously, apart from the works of the Law. How do these two interpretive facts help us to understand the events Paul describes in the first two chapters of Galatians?
Paul's Persecution 0/ the Ekklesia Paul's general situation when writing Galatians is c1ear enough. Other Christian missionaries - whether Judaizing Christi an Gentiles or more traditionally observant Christian Jews 46 - have come into his Gentile communities and taught that membership in the ekklesia required conversion to Judaism, that is, circumcision. In repudiating their gospel, Paul asserts the divine source of his own (Gali), and cryptically relates three previous occasions on which he had encountered Peter and others of the original Palestinian followers of Jesus, and come away from those encounters secure in his own interpretation of the gospel. The telescoping of his current polemical situation with his accounts of these earlier events and conversations is both obvious and difficult. The issue when he writes is circumcision; and he implies that it was the issue as well for the episodes he relates in chapters 1 and 2. 47 Commentators are weIl aware that Paul frames these episodes this way for rhetorical effect, and that the historical reality behind them is more nuanced than his report allows. Nonetheless, most continue to see some sort of direct relation between the issueat stake in this mid-century letter Gentile circumcision - and the reason why Paul hirnself persecuted the ekklesia some fifteen or so years earlier. I want to argue that there was not. Let us consider the definition of "persecution" first. Taking the evidence of the epistles over that of Acts, and drawing on the dating suggested by Paul' s references in Galatians 1, we distill the following: that sometime before 33 CE or so, the year of his call, Paul persecuted the Jewish members of the ekklesia that had formed in his synagogue community in Damascus. I follow, inter alia, Hultgren in construing "persecution" to me an , not "execution" (Luke's picture) but disciplinary flogging, makkot mardut (cf. 2 Cor 11 :24). I translate Paul's KCl.O' inrepßoArJll as "to the utmost" (cf. the 46A1l commentaries treat the question of the identity of Paul's opponents; see discussion in Betz; also the earlier conjectures in Schoeps:74-78; Munck:87-134. Again, my use of "Christian" here is anachronistic. 47Thus 2:14 speaks to 6:12-13; 2:20, to 6:14; see Sanders, 1983:174.
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RSV's "violently"), and in this context construe hirn to be saying that he (as an officer of the Damascus het din?) administered the maximum number of stripes permitted by the Law, namely thirty-nine lashes. 48 Those receiving this flogging would have been other J ews - as Sanders has pointed out, punishment implies inclusion (1983: 192)49 - and in any case no synagogue court would have had a jurisdictional authority over local Gentiles. So: within three years or so of Jesus' execution, the gospel in his name had spread at least as far as Damascus, where a Christian cell formed within the synagogue community there. Paul participated in having Jewish members of this group flogged, to the maximum degree permitted by the Law. Why? What can we know about the early kerygma that can explain why its apostles or adherents would have been subject to synagogue discipline? A minimal reconstruction would permit us to say that it declared that the messiah had come, that he had been crucified and raised, and that he would shortly return (cf. 1 Cor 15:1ff.).50 Once in the Diaspora, this message would be heard by Gentiles as weIl as Jews, since Gentiles were present with Jews in Diaspora synagogues. Why then the synagogue's ho stile response? Scholars focusing primarily on the content of the kerygma - the message of the crucified messiah - conjecture either that the proclarnation of the arrival of the messiah would have led to legaloffense, since with the arrival of the messiah the Law would be seen to be ended; or, second, that the proclarnation of a crucified messiah would have been religiously offensive, since such a claim presents the messiah as having died as a criminal, a death "cursed by the law" - Deut 21 :23, by way of Gal 3: 13. One sees the first explanation less frequently now. It suffers not only from lack of evidence in sufficiently early Jewish tradition,51 but also from 48Hultgren:97-111; cf. my discussion in 1986:10-14; also 1991:142ff. While only Acts claims that Paul was acting in an official capacity (and then as an agent of the High Priest), I assume that Paul himself would not have been a free agent, "persecuting" on his own authority. Hultgren implies that Paul received makkot arba 'im, "the thirty-nine lashes," the fixed number referring to the penalty for violation of a biblical prohibition (m. Mak. 3): this is unlikely. Makkot mardut, however, is not a fixed number (except for its upper limit, thirty-nine blows), and could be assigned at the discretion of the court. On disciplinary flogging, see Hare:42-46. 49This is perhaps the burden of "'p.ac; in Gal 1 :23: The other churches in Judea that rejoice because of Paul's change of heart ("they only heard it said, 'He who once persecuted us is now preaching .... '") would have been almost exclusively Jewish; Christian Jews in Damascus had been Paul's prime target. sOFor my reconstruction of the content of the primitive kerygma in this period between the apostolic resurrection experiences and the composition of Paul' s letters, see 1991:133-43. SlSee esp. Levy; Sanders 1977:479 and n. 25, 480, 496; cf. Davies 1952.
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 227 counter-evidence: the first generation of Jesus' original Jewish followers evi.dently proclaimed hirn messiah while continuing to keep Torah. 52 Additionally, Paul nowhere makes the claim, when arguing that the Law is no longer valid, that it is the messiah' s coming as such that overthrows or undoes the Law (cf. Sanders 1975:479-80). If such a Jewish tradition existed, then, evidently the first generation of Jewish apostles did not know it. The second explanation is more complicated. The "hanging" in Deuteronomy refers not to a mode of execution, but to the publication that a sentence of capital punishment has been executed: the offender' s body is displayed by hanging. In the biblical text, such a person would have been perceived as "cursed" because of the crimes for which he would have been executed, presumably by stoning: blasphemy or idolatry (cf. m. Sanh. 6.4). The "hanging" itself is not the reason for the "curse." Paul interprets "nailed to a cross" as "hanged on a tree," and suggests, by invoking Deuteronomy, that someone (or perhaps, according to some commentators, in particular a messiah) dying like a criminal, was cursed. Such a message, so goes the argument, would be deeply offensive to religious Jews. 53 Several observations: First, Paul is not the only ancient Jew to conflate the biblical hanging with crucifixion. llQTemple 64.6-13, which paraphrases Deuteronomy, mandates execution by hanging/crucifixion as a punishment for treason or for maligning the Jewish people: the "curse" would obtain, one presumes, because of the deceased's crime of betrayal, not because of the mode of execution itself. Similarly, popular Purim celebrations in antiquity could refer to Haman's gibbet as a "tree": Haman was "cursed," however, because of his role in the Esther story, not because he died by hanging. 54 My point is that nowhere outside of Paul's snarled passage in Gal 3 does one see the claim that death by crucifixion eo ipso me ans a death cursed by God - not in J osephus' description of the eight hundred S20n the continued Torah observance of Jesus' disciples, e.g., Acts 2:46; 3:1; 5:12, 42; 21:23-27; .cf. Mt 5:~3-24, on how a Christian should sacrifice at the Temple's altar. In all the PaSSIOn narratIves, the caesura between Jesus' burial and the discovery of the empty tomb occurs because his (female) disciples wait until the Sabbath is over, Mk 1~:lIlMt .28:1; cf. Lk 23:56, which states this explicitly. Jn 19:42 and 20:1, with a shghtly different chronology, refer to Passover ("the day of Preparation") rather than the Sabba~h in particular, but my point remains. On the strains caused by the evangelists' ~mmItment to present a Jesus opposed to the Law, while using traditional material attestmg otherwise, Fredriksen 1988:98-114; on Jesus' disciples, Sanders 1985:323; also 24569 (Jesus). s3An ubiquitous tradition in NT scholarship: See discussion and bibliography in Fredriksen 1986: 10-13 and notes. S4S ee the discussions in Bruce:30ff.; Thornton 1972:130-31; on ~vAo"I'(Y Thomton 1986:419-26; Wilcox; Fitzmyer 1981:125-46.
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Pharisees crucified by Alexander Janneus (Ant. 13.14,2), nor in his discussions of the thousands of insurrectionists (for whom he otherwise shows little sympathy) so dispatched by Rome. Further, a crucified Jew might look like a criminal to Gentiles; to other first-century Jews, Deut 21 notwithstanding, he would probably look more like a fallen hero. And finally, once again, the original apostolic community actually presents counter-evidence: It existed in Jerusalem unmolested for decades,55 though it too proclaimed a crucified messiah. Nothing in first-century Judaism, in other words, seems to require that a crucified man ipso facto be seen as cursed of God, and we have no evidence of Jews having done so. Paul deploys Deut. 21 :23 in order to wend his way from "curse" to "blessing" in Gal 3. In this context the verse has rhetorical force (Sanders 1983:25-27). But it cannot provide the grounds for a religious reason why Paul, and others in his synagogue, would have moved to discipline J ewish members of the ekklesia in their midst. What else, then, have we got? The fact that this kerygma of the crucified messiah was evidently heard also by the synagogue's Gentiles, who were in turn welcomed into the ekklesia. The controversy in Galatia revolves around whether to circumcise Christian Gentiles; Paul implies elsewhere that he is persecuted because he does not preach circumcision (Gal 5:11; cf. 6:12); where he speaks of his former activity as a persecutor of the church, he sometimes mentions his zeal for the Law (Gal 1:13; Phil 3:6; cf. Gal1:23 and 1 Cor 15:9). Pulling these disparate pieces of evidence together, a third explanation for Paul's pre-Christian activity emerges. Paul persecuted for the same reason he later claims to be persecuted: admission of Gentiles to the ekklesia without requiring circumcision, that is, conversion to Judaism. The Law-free mission to the Gentiles, in other words, would have existed before Paul; once its opponent, he later became its champion. 56 55Luke reports a flurry of activity, usually initiated by the Sanhedrin, in the period . immediately following Jesus' execution (Acts 4:1-23; cf. 5:17-42, where the apostles are first "beaten" [i.e., lashed, 5:40] and then released; 6:8 - 8:1, charges are brought against Stephen, which culminated in his being stoned; wh ether this is done by order of the court or by mob action is unclear; 8:1-2, the curious "persecution" aimed at everyone "except the apostles," who remain in the city). See Haenchen's treatment of these passages. Thereafter, Lk reports no thing until Agrippa II executes James the son of Zebedee ca. 44 (12:lff.; no motive provided; similarly, Peter is arrested but escapes). Finally, some fifteen years later (ca. 58?), Jews from Asia accuse Paul of detliing the Temple, and so incite a riot (21: 27ff.). Josephus relates briefly that the High Priest Ananus, ca. 62, had James, Jesus' brother, arrested and executed along with unidentified others. His action offended some other Jews (perhaps Pharisees), who protested to the secular authorities; they deposed Ananus (Ant. 20.9,1). The point is that, from ca. 30 to the destruction of the city in 70, the church in Jerusalern by and large was left alone. 56This mission is usually associated with the Hellenists, who are then construed as somehow in opposition to the Aramaic-speaking core group of disciples - see, e. g. ,
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 229 Let us consider this proposal in light of the material on Jews and Gentiles with which I began our investigation. Once in the Diaspora, the gospel spread so quickly to Gentiles because Gentiles were present in synagogues to he ar it. These Gentiles would demonstrate their reception of the gospel, we can suppose, by voluntarily doing something never demanded of them by the synagogue: they relinquished completely their native observances, most especially the worship of idols (e.g. 1 Cor 8:1-13, cf. 10:18).57 No synagogue would do this: it is an eschatological demand to make of Gentiles. In it we see the strength of the earliest church's conviction that, through Jesus' resurrection, the Kingdom had in some sense already dawned, and that the community gathered in J esus' name proleptically represented this Kingdom in the interregnum between his resurrection and parousia (see Fredriksen 1988:165-75 (Paul); also, on this aspect of "now/not yet" in Jesus' own preaching, 98-101). And the original apostles would have readily accepted these Gentiles, because such a response was consonant with a prominent (indeed predominant) strain of Jewish apocalyptic expectation with which the earliest movement - also Jewish, also apocalyptic - aligned itself. Gentile reception of the gospel of the coming Kingdom and their subsequent repudiation of idolatry, in other words, would seem one more "proof' - as Jesus' resurrection itself - that the Kingdom was, indeed, at hand. 58 The ekklesia, this mixed association of Jews and Gentiles, would then form as a subgroup within the synagogue. Paul then would persecute the Jewish members of this group precisely because they permitted (uncircumcised) Gentiles as members. I do not see how this can work. The same factors that explain the early apostles' ready inclusion of Gentiles - namely standard J ewish practice toward sympathizers, on the one hand, and a strong and articulated apocalyptic tradition, on the other - make circumcision impossible as an issue between Paul and the ekklesia ca. 33. Gentiles within Paul's own synagogue could attend services without receiving circumcision: why then should Paul and his community persecute an internal subgroup for following exactly the same practice? Henge11979; 1983; Gager 1981:700ff.; cf. Davies 1984:170; Sanders, 1983: 190ff. 570n this expectation in other Jewish literature, above p. 212. Paul too rigorously insists that his Gentiles "in Christ" absolutely abandon their idols (and so, fornication; e.g., 1 Thess 1:9ff.; 1 Cor 5:11; 6:9f.; 10:7-22; cf. 2 Cor 6:15 - 7:1; Gal4:1-11, which probably accounts for some of their confusions regarding food, 58S ee Fredriksen 1988: 127ff. Sanders observes, "The overwhelming impression is that Jesus started a movement which came to see the Gentile mission as a logical extension 0/ itself' (1985:220; author's emphasis), though in his discussion (212-21), he conflates inc1usion with conversion (216-17).
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Perhaps the higher degree of intimate social intercourse between Jews and Gentiles within the ekklesia religiously offended the larger community. During the group's eucharistie celebrations - especially if these were held in the hornes of Gentile members - problems with table-fellowship, or with the ritual status of food or wine, might have arisen. Three practical and historieal considerations, however, compromise such a reconstruction. First" we must recall that Jews, too, belonged to their religious communities voluntarily. If they were publicly flogged by religious authorities every time they privately violated the laws of kashrut, zealous synagogue officials would soon have had trouble assembling a minyan. 59 Second, Gentiles and Jews in the first-century Diaspora and later would have eaten together; later rabbinic Judaism even discusses the procedure to be followed on such occasions. 60 Third, if food were already the issue in Damascus in 33, it is hard to understand why, more than fifteen years later, Paul and Peter have their falling out at Antioch (Gal 2:11~14). We return then to circumcision. Clearly by mid-century, normal Jewish practice notwithstanding, some members of the community objected strongly to the church' s admission of uncircumcised Gentiles. Why would this not have been the issue ca. 33? Precisely because the question addresses the conditions lor the admission 01 Gentiles into the ekklesia, not into the synagogue. Gentiles could and did enter synagogues voluntarily, and as they would. And should they choose to enter Israel, i.e., become a Jew, the standard practiee was perfectly clear, specifying, for males, circumcision. The question whether, at community initiative, to urge Gentiles to be circumcised arose only within the church, and only eventually; it was, in other words, an internal problem for the churches, not for their host environment, the synagogues. Paul stood outside the church when he persecuted it. His reasons, then, must have had to do with issues important to the larger Jewish community, not issues of membership and group identity within the small new cello What, finally, do we know about the ekklesia in Damascus around 33? That, on whatever conditions, it probably included Gentiles who were exposed to the Christian message through the synagogue. The content of this 59Philo's lament in Migr. 16.89-93 should help to remind us that, in ancient Jewi$h populations as in modern ones, those Jews who troubled to think about religious legislation when they ate could be perfectly comfortable transgressing traditional prohibitions in light of "higher" modern understandings - allegory in the first century, scientific hygiene in the twentieth. 60The point is that, if such intercourse is acknowledged and legislated even by that stream of Judaism explicitly concerned to articulate domestic applications of purity laws, we should expect even freer mixing in other pre- or ,non-rabbinic communities. See now Sanders 1990: 170-88.
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 231 message was: Jesus the messiah, crucified for the atonement of sin and raised to the right hand of God, is ab out to return to establish the Kingdom. Wehave failed to derive from these two facts any religious reason for Paul' s persecution of this group. What other reason might he have had? Here we have to consider the mood of the movement in the years immediately following Jesus' death. An intense expectation that the Kingdom was about to arrive had motivated J esus' ministry. His disciples had shared this belief. Their faith in his message would have been radieally challenged by the crushing disappointment of his .crucifixion; just as radically, the post-resurrection appearances would have reconfirmed it. These Christophanies multiplied: first only Peter, and then the twelve, later more than five hundred brethren, and finally "all the apostles" and J ames saw the Risen Christ (1 Cor 15:4-7). And still nothing happened. At some point not long after, this group burst into sustained and energetic missionary activity. The word "mission" is perhaps not quite correct, because they were Jews taking a very Jewish message - that the Kingdom approached - to other Jews. They would have fanned out through Palestine, then on into the Diaspora through the network of Jewish communities ringed round the Mediterranean, continuing Jesus' work of preparing Israel for the impending redemption. . Into Paul's synagogue in Damascus, then, sometime shortly after the year 30, came apostles enthusiastically proclaiming the imminent subjection of the pres~nt order through the (returning) messiah to the coming Kingdom of God. If we can generalize from the picture later presented in Paul's letters and Acts, these apostles would have found opportunities at the regular Sabbath service or thereafter to speak, debate, interpret scripture, and perhaps demonstrate the authority of their message with charismatic healings and exorcisms. Normally present on such occasions would be Gentiles voluntarily attached to the synagogue. Their reception of this message and consequent abandonment of idols would only serve to confirm the apostles' conviction that the End was at hand. The ekklesia subsequently formed of lews and Gentiles both would constitute a committed, energetic, and vocal subgroup within the larger community - meeting separately to celebrate a common me al in anticipation of the messianic banquet; praying, prophesying, interpreting scripture. How would the larger community respond? The belief in a messiah known to have died must have struck many prima facie as odd or incredible; a messiah without a messianic age, irrelevant. But the enthusiastic proclarnation of a messiah executed very recently by Rome as a political troublemaker
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FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 233
- a crucified messiah - combined with avision of the approaching End preached also to Gentiles - this was dangerous. News of an impending messianic kingdom, originating from Palestine, might trickle out via the ekklesia's Gentiles to the larger urban population. It was this (by far) larger, unaffiliated group that posed areal and serious threat. Armed with such a report, they might readily seek to alienate the local Roman colonial government, upon which Jewish urban populations often depended for support and protection against hostile Gentile neighbors. The open dissemination of a messianic message, in other words, put the entire Jewish community at risk. The synagogue court would have no formal jurisdiction over Gentile sympathizers. But it could discipline those Jews who seemed oblivious to the politically sensitive nature of their proclarnation of a coming christos. The form that discipline would take was makkot mardut - discretionary lashing. Were Paul an officer of the court, responsible for the administration of its decisions, he might execute its orders KCX(}' inrepßOA:f]v, to the maximum thirty-nine lashes allowed by the Law. This reconstruction is of course speculative. Lest it seem overly so, we should pause to consider seriously the casualty figures of Jewish urban populations at the outbreak of the first revolt: 20,000 in Caesarea; 2,000 - the entire community - in Ptolemais; in Paul's horne community, Damascus, variously 10,000 or 18,000 Jews slain. 61 Alexandria's convulsions in 38-41, Antioch's in 40, and again in 66 and 70, stand as striking attestation of the Jewish community's vulnerability to the violent hostility of local populations if Rome' sattention were alienated or withdrawn. 62 And the pagan urban
casualties at the outbreak of the War in 66, and in later rebellions in the Diaspora, underscore the reasonableness of Gentile anxieties should they hear of news originating from Palestine, disseminated through the local synagogue, of a coming messiah. 63 This reconstruction can also suggest an explanation for the very different experiences of the nascent church in J erusalem as opposed to abroad. As both Acts and Josephus attest, Jewish anti-Christian activity was fairly subdued in Jerusalern, whereas - Acts and Paul64 - in the Diaspora it continued. Why? The answer may lie in the fact that Jerusalem, unlike Damascus or the cities in Paul's eventual itinerary, had a Jewish majority. The social situation was accordingly much less volatile. Also, in the course of the four decades until the destruction of the Second Temple, the Sanhedrin had other noisily apocalyptic popular movements and living messianic preachers to worry about. As long as normal conditions obtained - that is, in any situation short of outright war - J erusalem' s J ewish community was fairly secure. 65 But in the Diaspora, and in a situation of messianic agitation, things could, and ultimately did, worsen abruptly. In brief: to understand the reasons for early first-century Jewish persecutions of Jewish Christian apostles, we should look not to supposed exegetical traditions defining theological offense (the appeal to Deut 21 :23); nor should we retroject a mid-first century ecclesiastical issue - the circumcision of Gentile Christians - back into the earliest years of the preaching to Paul indeed invokes his past as a persecutor of Jewish synagogues. Christi ans before his current Gentile Christi an audience against other mid-
61These figures derive from Josephus, so the usual cautions obtain. Accuracy aside, their simple existence points to the indisputable fact that these communities were slaughtered. On Caesarea, J. W. 2.18,1; 7.8,7; Ptolemais, 2.18,5; Damascus, 2.20,2; cf. 7.8,7. On the destruction of Jews in Gaza and Anthedon, 2.18,1; in Ascalon, 2.18,5; Hippus and Garada, 2.18,1 and 5; Scythopolis, 2.18,3-4; 7.8,7; Vita 6. See the review of these data in HJP 2.85-183; also the following note. 62Por the anti-Jewish riots in Alexandria, Philo, Flaccum and Gaium; Josephus, Ant. 18.8,1; on the anti-Roman nature of this incident, see Gager 1983:46-54. Greeks in Antioch apparently attempted to dear the way to molesting Jewish residents of the city by first alienating Roman colonial government. Their attack on Jews in 40 CE may relate to the Jewish reaction earlier that year to Caligula's efforts to put his statue in the Temple in Jerusalern (Ant. 18.8,2; on the attack on the Jews, Malalas, Chronographia 50.10; see discussion in Downey:190-95). In 66, rumors that Jews were plotting to burn the city started a pogrom (J. W. 7.3,3); four years later, when fire did break out, more slaughter was prevented only when the Roman deputy-governor Gnaeus Collega intervened, conducted an investigation, and deared the Jews of all charges (7.3,4). And shortly thereafter, when Titus, then Caesar, stopped in Antioch after his successful campaign against Palestinian Jews, Greek Antiochenes demanded that Jews be stripped of their·civic privileges. Titus refused (7.5,2).
J. W. 2.18,1; Josephus attributes the revolt specifically to popular messianic expectation,
630n Hippus, Gadara, Scythopolis, and Pella, all attacked by Jewish insurgents in 66, 6.5,4. He further re1ates that Alexandrian Jews, after provocation, likewise took up anns against Greeks in 66 (2.18,7). Dio Cassius reports that Jewish rebels killed 220,000 in Cyrene and 240,000 in Cyprus during the insurrection of 115-17 (Hist. 68.32,1-3); the actual figures are probably no more accurate than his lurid details, but again they make the point. The de1iberate destruction of pagan temples in this last insurrection may indicate a messianic enthusiasm; see the discussion in HJP 1.529-34; also Applebaum; Smallwood: 389-427. 64E.g., Acts 13:13-52 (Pisidian Antioch); 14:1...:.6 (Iconium); 17:1-9 (Thessalonica); 17:10-15 (Beroea); 18:1-17 (Corinth), etc. Paul both gave and received lashing, which he characterizes in both instances as "persecution" (Gall:13, 23; Phil 3:6; 1 Cor 15:9; 2 Cor 11:24). 65The periods around the great pilgrimage festivals - Passover, Shavuot, and Sukknt - would be exceptions, both because the city would be swollen with visitors, and because the Roman government, in light of this fact, garrisoned extra troops there during the holidays (J. W. 2.12,1). Crowded conditions, excited crowds, messianic fervor (esp., naturally, at Passover), and skittish Roman soldiers could and did combine to make the atmosphere in Jerusalern volatile and the Sanhedrin, accordingly, more than usually anxious to preserve peace. See Predriksen 1988:110-25.
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century (and probably Jewish) Christian missionaries who do advocate full conversion to Judaism. Our confusions in reconstructing that past are in part the measure of his rhetorieal skill. But to understand the reasons why he and other Jews "persecuted," we would do well to remove the issue from his rhetorieal framework and place it where it belongs: incarnate in the mixed and often mutually hostile urban populations of the Roman Mediterranean. Ideas and ideology do provide important motivations for human actions; but in real life they are grounded in social faGt - in this instance, in the politically precarious situation of urban J ewish communities in the Western Diaspora, dependent as they often were for protection from Rome.
Jerusalem, Antioch, and Gentiles in the Ekklesia I have argued that, from its inception, the Christi an movement admitted Gentiles without demanding that they be circumcised and observe the Law. This was so precisely because nascent Christianity was J ewish. Diaspora Jews, as we have seen, routinely permitted sympathetic Gentiles access to their synagogues on a "Law-free" basis; and those who thought in traditional ways about the Kingdom of God would have expected Gentiles too to be redeemed, again as we have seen, on a "Law-free" basis. Neither quotidian practiee nor prophetie tradition, then, can help us account for the situation Paul describes in Galatians 2. Some fourteen years after his first visit (1: 18), Paul again went up to J erusalem "by revelation," together with Bamabas and a Gentile co-worker, Titus, in order to present to "those of repute the gospel which I preach among the Gentiles" (2:2). Other Christian Jews (in Paul's view, uninvited and unwelcome, 2:4) at this point apparently urged that Titus be circumcised (i!vCL"(Kaa()7J 7repL'TJl7J()'ijvCLL, 2:3) - an idea that the "pillars" reject (2:6-10). Most commentators have seen these "circumcisers" as conservative Jews, backsliding into some supposedly traditional Jewish view that (Christi an) Gentiles, to be saved, must be made to observe Torah. 66 In light of our review of Jewish beliefs and practices, however, we know the opposite to be the case: these men, the (jalse brethren," were actually proposing a startling noveZty both within Judaism and, afortiori, within the Christian movement. For until ca. 49, evidently that is to say, for nearly twenty years - the ekklesia had ne ver demanded circumcision as an entry requirement for Gentiles. Wh at had changed between ca. 30 and ca. 49, and why?
e.g., Betz:82. Sanders 1983:17-27. 66S0 ,
See Holmberg: 1 8-32, for a review of the arguments; also
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 235 Posing the question puts the answer: By the time of this council, Paul had been a member of a movement that had been preaching the imminent establishment of the Kingdom of God for almost a generation. Certainly among the members of the church in Jerusalem - perhaps even among the "false brethren" - were those who had followed Jesus of Nazareth in his lifetime, and so had lived with this expectation even longer. If Jesus' execution had crushed this hope, their experience of his resurrection would have revived it. And as the Kingdom (now linked to Jesus' Parousia) tarried, these apostles continued his work of preparing Israel by taking the message out to the Israel of the dispersion. There they received another unexpected confirmation of their belief: Gentiles in these synagogues, finally abandoning their idols, also embraced the gospel. But still the Kingdom did not come. Time drags when you expect it to end. Put differently: millenarian movements tend, of necessity, to have a short half-life. As the Endtime recedes, reinterpretations and adjustments must reshape the original belief, else it be relinquished to unintelligibility or irrelevance. 67 By mid-century, surely, all these Christi ans must have realized that their expectations had not been fulfilled. Worse: the traditional prophetic scenario - from which the kerygma, in proc1aiming Jesus crucified and raised, had already deviated had gone awry. Gentiles continued to join the movement in numbers; the mission to Israel, however, had foundered. How could they interpret these facts and hold on to the gospel, continuing in their belief that Jesus' resurrection truly did signal the turning of the age and the nearness of the Kin-gdom? We see in Paul' s terse review of the J erusalem council the variety of Christi an responses to this double disappointment of the Kingdom's delay and Israel's increasing hostility or indifference. One group, the "false brethren," evidently began to press for Gentile conversions to Christianity - meaning, of course, to this particular branch of first-century Judaism - rather than simple inc1usion. And there the halakah was c1ear: male Gentiles would Paul angrily suggests that they would have have to be circumcised. "compelled" Titus (2:3). We have the measure of his' hyperbole when we hear hirn speak similarly to Peter in Antioch: "How can you compel the Gentiles to adopt Jewish practices?" (7rc'u; 'TOt. e()v7J aVCL"(Kateu; iOVoCLiteLv, 2:14). At worse, Peter was passive-aggressive: he "compelled" Gentile Christi ans by withdrawing (2: 12b). The coercion Paul alleges of the "false brethren" was most likely heated and passionate argument - and more likely
670n the intrinsie interpretive instability of millenarian prophesy, Gager 1975:20-65, esp. 37 ff.; on the paradoxicallongevity and vitality of Christian millenarianism, Fredriksen 1991; Landes: 167-208.
236
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
not with Titus, but with Paul. 68 We can speculate on their rationale. Perhaps, sizing up the movement's situation mid-century, they adduced a causal connection between the Kingdom' s delay and the wor~ening unreadiness of Israel. Perhaps - not unreasonably - they saw the increasing prominence of Gentiles in the movement as a factor contributing to most J ews rejecting the gospel. Perhaps they had in mind converting not an Gentiles members, but only those who, like Titus, held highly visible positions of leadership in their Diaspora communities. If Jews had to be reached, better such spokesmen be Jews; were Titus circumcised, he would be a Jew. For their conviction that Israel should be the movement's first priority, and that Gentile redemption was contingent upon Israel's, they had no further to look than the teaching of Jesus himself and, behind him, to scripture. Whatever their rationale, their motivation and their goal were, doubtless, to ensure the spread of the gospel. But their proposal was rejected. J ews other than Paul also found the idea of an actual mission to Gentiles to convert them to Judaism too novel. We know the names of some: James, Peter, John, Bamabas. Despite the stress-points in the gospel message caused by the Kingdom's delay, the traditional Jewish apocalyptic view held: Gentiles would be admitted into the Kingdom - and so, for the (as far as they knew, brief) time being, into the church - with only the requirement of moral, not halakic, conversion. This meant no idols. It also meant no circumcision. These "false brethren," caught between their faith in the gospel and its evident disconfirmation, improvised a strategy, and so devised something 68Similarly Justin Martyr, Dial. 47.3: "Those men of your race [i.e. the Jews, though here Justin intends Jewish Christians] who ... compel the Gentiles who believe in this Christ to live completely by the law ordained through Moses, or do not choose to have elose fellowship with them, these I do not accept" (eap OB oi a7ro TOU "(BvOUt; TOU VJ1.8T8pOU 7rWTetJ8LP "A8"(OPT8t; e7rL TOUTOP TOP XPUITOP, c;:, Tpuq,wp, 8/"'8"(OP, eK 7rCXPTOt; KCXTa TOP OLa Mwua8Wt;, OLCXTCXXf)BvTCX P0J1.0P apCX"(KatouaL PW e~ ef)pwp 7rWTBUOPTCXt; e7rL TOUTOU TOP XpLaTOP ~ J1.1J KOLPWPe'LP CXVTO'it; . . . TOUTOUt; OVK a7rooeX0J1.CXL). In this context, apcx"(K&t8LP may have the sense of "to require." Some Jews in
Justin's period, feeling the force of biblical injunctions to circumcise their non-Jewish slaves (e.g., Gen 17: 12, 23-27; Ex 12:44), permitted the man a year to consider the proposition. If he deelined, the tannaim urged that he be sold to a Gentile owner. This raises the question: If Jews, at least in principle, were not to compel their own slaves to be circumcised, it what way would those in Jerusalem "compel" Titus? See Schiffman:36-37, on the eved kena'ani; Bamberger:124-31. On forced conversions as part of military conquest, Ant. 13.9,1 (Hyrcanus and the Edomites); cf. Ptolemy, Hist. Herodis, Stern 1, no. 146 (apcx"(Kcxaf)8PT8t; 7r8PLT8J1.P8af)m); Ant. 13.11,3 (Aristobulus and the Ituraeans), but this too is confusing: unless we conjecture the existence of vigilante mohelim, the generations subsequent to the one conquered would have been circumcised at parental initiative. For a more plausible reconstruction, see Cohen 1987:423; Kasher: circumcision was embraced as part of a voluntary federation with the Jewish kingdom in a common reaction against Seleucid Hellenistic rule.
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2 237 both awkward and new: a Jewish mission to the Gentiles. Caught in the same dilemma, Paul improvised too, on a much larger scale. They revised traditional practice; he revised biblical his tory . We see how, most c1early, in Romans 9-11. 69 Paul' s letter had built to a crescendo in chapter 8 where, overwhelmed by his vision of the imminent and universal redemption of an creation at Christ's second coming, he had burst forth in praise of the power and constancy of God' s love as manifest in the sending of his son. But what about God's constancy as manifest in history toward his people - Israel's election ("sonship"), God's presence (06~CL; Heb. iI.l':HU), the covenants, the giving of the Law, the Temple cult ("ACL7PSLCL; cf. RSV's much-weakened "worship") and the promises, the patriarchs and even, KCL7a. a6tpKCL, the messiah (9:2-5)? Was that for nothing? Will history end with God breaking his promises to Israel? Ingeniously, tortuously, Paul integrates biblical his tory and his religious convictions as a Jew with precisely those discouraging facts of the Christi an movement mid-century - too many Gentiles, too few Jews, and no End in sight - to formulate a solution to both dilemmas: the status of Israel in light of the gospel, and the status of the gospel in light of continuing quotidian reality. Israel did not heed the gospel? That was part of God's plan: just as in the pastthe eIder (Esau) had served the younger (Jacob), so now Israel serves the Gentiles (9:11-13). And as God had once hardened Pharaoh's heart so that his own name might be proc1aimed in all the earth, so now, to that same end, he hardens Israel's (9:17-18; 11:7). Gentiles overwhelmed the church with their response? That too was God' s plan an along: the Kingdom would come once their "fun number" was brought in (11 :25). The Kingdom tarried? No: rather it waited on Paul (and doubtless others, though Paul fails to keep them in mind here) to complete the work among the Gentiles, bringing their donation, and in a sense themselves, as an acceptable sacrifice to Jerusalem (15:16, 31). Then God would cease hardening Israel; then Christ would be revealed in glory; then the final events would unwind (11:7-15, 23-32; 15:8-12). Paul's very success among the Gentiles confirmed for him that the time was indeed at hand. 70 "The God of peace will soon crush Satan beneath your feet" (16:20).
690n Paul' s revision of the sequence of events expected by more traditional Jewish eschatology, e.g., Sanders 1983:171, 192-97; Davies 1984:130-33, 142-47 (Rom 9-11 is a torturous discussion that ends in paradox); Donaldson: 100, 106f. 70We must take Paul to speak figuratively when he claims to have preached the gospel from Jerusalem around to lllyrium (Rom 15:19) so that he had no work left in these regions (15:23); but his phrasing conveys his own sense of satisfaction with nearing the 7r"A~pwJ1.cx TWP ef)pwp (11 :25).
r
238
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Conclusion
Ultimately, all these issues and arguments were settled by the force majeure of time. The apostolic generation died away, Roman armies destroyed J erusalem, and traditions from and about J esus grew in increasingly Gentile milieux. As evangelical tradition evolved, Christianity distanced itself both from its apocalyptic past and from its parent religious culture. The Jesus of the canonical gospels comes less to announce the coming Kingdom than to establish the (Gentile) chu.rch. Yet Luke did draw, as he claims, on historical sources;71 and thus embedded in Acts, his late-first-century reshaping of these sources notwithstanding, lie nuggets of historical fact. We detect these most securely where we have convergent lines of independent evidence. 72 Luke names Diaspora synagogues as the particular loci of resistance to the gospel, and usually in this connection mentions the Godfearers' enthusiastic response; I have argued, from Josephus, Philo, and other historical sources, that there are solid social reasons to hypothesize such a link.?3 Luke's Paul avails hirns elf of the network of Diaspora synagogue communities, and through them makes contact with Gentiles. Nothing in Paul's own letters rules this out,74 not least his statements about his Gentiles' former idolatry (e.g., 1 Thess 1:9; GaI4:8; 1 Cor 5:12; 10:14 - apparently the Corinthians' idolatry is not entirely effaced). As we know from the scattered literary evidence, Jewish, pagan, 71Lk 1:1-4, equally introductory of Acts. 721 stand eloser to Knox than not on the issue of using Luke to reconstruct episodes in Paul's career; see Knox:6-19. 73E.g., Acts 13:45,50 Uealous of multitudes harkening to gospel, the Jews instigate persecution); 14:1-5 (Gentiles react positively; the unbelieving Jews dissuade them and instigate trouble); 17:1-5 (Paul persuades many Godfearers ["devout Greeks" in Thessalonica's synagogue] and leading women; the Jews, jealous, set the city in an uproar); 17:10-15 so too in Beroea; 18:1-17 Paul speaks in Corinth's synagogue and persuades many Jews and Greeks; the Jews fmally bring hirn before Gallio and accuse hirn of transgressing Jewish law, 18:12ff. Jews from the Diaspora residing in Jerusalern instigate the fatal contretemps with Stephen (6: 9), and later, final1y, with Paul (21: 27, Jews from Asia). On this theme of the Diaspora Jews' villainy, Fredriksen 1988:193-94. Luke always attributes bad motivations to them; 1 argued, from the data on urban populations in Josephus et al., that their actions, triggered by the messianie enthusiasm of Gentile adherents, may have stemmed from a justifiable anxiety (see above, 232). 74Cf. Sanders 1983: 181-90 for the counterargument; I am obviously not convinced. The assumption that Paul did work through the synagogues provides a plausible social context for, e.g., 2 Cor 11:24 (receiving 39 lashes five times) and 1 Cor 9:20 (becoming as a Jew to win Jews), a plausible explanation for his constant appeal to scripture (his Gentile congregations would have been even more at sea than they seem to have been in any case were the source for Paul's exhortations and arguments completely unfamiliar), and . a plausible environment for Paul' s circumcising opponents mid-century, who are obviously making some headway within his groups.
FREDRIKSEN: ANOTHER LOOK AT GALATIANS I AND 2 239 and Christian, and most especially from the stone at Aphrodisias, idolatrous Godfearers could indeed be found in the synagogues of the Diaspora. And Luke's account of the Jerusalem council in Acts 15, chronology aside, recognizably echoes some of the voices in Gal 2. James did not require circumcision, and the church did not sponsor missions, in this sense, to the Gentiles. Luke further relates (and in relating, disowns) yet another tradition that Paul hirns elf might confirm: tlie Asian Jews' accusation that Paul brought Gentiles past their boundary on into the Temple (Acts 21 :28).75 A trajectory that we might draw from Paul's own statements· in the closing chapters of Romans could converge on Luke's report. Paul's letter revises biblical history and "rearranges the eschatological sequence so that it accords with the facts" (Sanders 1983:185). The prophets had thought that Gentiles would be redeemed from their idolatry and turn to the God of Israel only once Israel had been redeemed from exile; he, Paul, knew better. God's adoption of the Gentiles had preceded the restoration of Israel: God must have wanted it that way, and so temporarily hardened Israel until Paul could complete his mission. This reordering of traditional elements enabled Paul to confront what might otherwise seem unambiguous disconfirmation of the gospel, and feel encouraged and enthused. Thus, a generation after his experience of the Risen Christ, Paul could coherently and reasonably affirm to the church at Rome that "salvation is nearer to us than when we first believed" (13:11). The process begun by Christ's resurrection, Paul firmly believed, would be brought to fulfillment through his own work. In his revised scenario, the Gentiles serve as the trip-switch of the Eschaton. What would be more like him , then - confident in God's promises, confirmed in his interpretation of events by the very success of his ministry - than to attempt to inaugurate the Endtime by enacting a paradigmatic moment from the traditional scenario? Though the sequence is changed, the prophetic script remains. I see Paul coming up to Jerusalem with the collection and, following through the logic of his own convictions, walking with his Gentile brother-inChrist into the Temple. He knew that he lived in the very last days. And in those days, according to his tradition, God would redeem the nations from their idolatry graciously, without the works of the Law; in those days Jew and Gentile together would go up to the mountain of the Lord, to worship, together, at the house ofthe God of Jacob.
75Lk represses both in his gospel and in Acts traditions that might seem hostile to the Temple: cf. Lk 19:45-48//Mk 11:1-19; he drops the accusation at the trial scene that Jesus threatened or predicted its destruction, Lk 22:54-71//Mk 14:57-61; Stephen's prediction of the Temple's destruction is put in the mouth of false witnesses, Acts 6:13.
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"The Antiochene Church of the First Christian Generation (A. D. 40-70 Galatians 2; Acts 11-15)". pp. 28-44 in R. Brown and J. P. Meier, Antioch and Rome: New Testament Cradles o/Catholic Christianity. New York: Paulist.
Moore, G. F. 1921 "Christian Writers on Judaism." HTR 14:197-254. 1927 Judaism in the First Centuries 0/ the Christian Era. Cambridge: Cambridge University. Munck, J. 1959
Paul and the Salvation
0/ Mankind. Richmond: John Knox.
Nock, A. D. 1972 Conversion. Oxford: Oxford University. Orig. pub. 1933. Nolland, John 1979 "Proselytism or Politics in Horace, Satires 1,4,138-43?" VigChr 33:34755. 1981 "Uncircumcised Proselytes?" JSJ 12:173-94. Novak, David 1983 The Image o/the Non-Jew in Judaism. Toronto: Edwin Mellen. Räisänen, H. 1986 Paul and the Law. Philadelphia: Fortress.
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Reynolds, J. and R. Tannenbaum 1987 Jews and Godfearers at Aphrodisias. Cambridge: Cambridge University.
CHAPTER9 Rigaux, B. 1962
Sanders, E. P. 1977 1983 1985
1990
Saint Paul et ses Lettres. Paris: Desclee. . . Paul and Palestinian Judaism. PhiladelphIa: Fortress. Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People. Philadelphia: Fortress. Jesus and Judaism. Philadelphia: Fortress.. " . "Jewish Association with Gentiles and GalatIans 2:11-14. pp. 170:-88 In Studies in Paul and John. Ed. R. T. Fortna, B. R. Gaventa. Nashville: Abingdon.
h.. Schiffman, L. . 1981 "At the Crossroads: Tannaitic Perspectives on the JewIsh-C nstlan Schism. " pp. 122-39 in Jewish and Christian Self-D~finition: Vo12. Ed. E. P. Sanders, A. 1. Baumgarten, A. Mendelson. PhiladelphIa: Fortress (revised and expanded as Who was a Jew? Hoboken: SCM 1985, pp. 1940). Schoeps, H. J. 1961
Schürer, E. 1973/86
Paul. Philadelphia: Fortress. The History ofthe Jewish people in the age of Jesus C~rist. 3 Vols. in 4. A new English version rev. and ed. G. Vennes, F. MilIar, M. Black. Edinburgh: T & T Clark.
ri11 Smallwood, E. M. 1976 The Jews under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian. Leiden: B . Schweitzer, A. 1910
Stern, M. 1974-84
The Quest ofthe Historical Jesus. Trans. W. Montgomery. New York: MacmilIan. Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism. 3 Vols. Jerusalern: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities.
Tcherikover, V. 1956 "Jewish Apologetic Literature Reconsidered." Eos 48:169-93. Thornton, T. C. G. 1972 "Trees Gibbets and Crosses. " JTS 23: 130-31. 1986 "The Cruciftxio~ of Haman and the Scandal of the Cross." JTS 39:41926. Wilcox, Max 1977 "'Upon the Tree' - Deut. 21: 22-23 in the New Testament." JBL 96: 8599.
A RESPONSE TO FREDRIKSEN'S "JUDA/SM, 11lE CIRCUMCISION OF GENTILES, AND APOCALYPTIC HOPE: AN011lER LOOK AT GALATIANS 1 AND 2" Peder Borgen The University of Trondheim
Introduction Paula Fredriksen's essay first surveys Jewish views on Gentiles, deals then with Paul' s persecution of the ekklesia and moves finally into an analysis of the material in Paul' s Letter to the Galatians and in the Acts of the Apostles on the question of Gentiles in the ekklesia, with special reference to Jerusalem and Antioch.
Proselytes and Circumcision The essay draws on a wide range of sources and develops stimulating and challenging problem-formulations and conc1usions. It also invites comments of a critical nature. As for the Jewish sourees, the problem of dating is taken up. Fredriksen formulates the following guideline: Their encounter with other nations, across cultures and centuries, resulted in a jumble of perceptions, prejudices, optative descriptions, social arrangements, and daily accommodations that we can reconstruct from the various literary and epigraphieal evidence only with difftculty. To draw from this synchronie and diachronie mass a coherent (and so somewhat artificial) picture of what early first-century Jews would have thought of Gentiles, I have applied a fonn of the criterion of multiple attestation: if an identifiable position can be seen to exist in several different strata of Jewish material (LXX, pseudepigrapha, Josephus, Mishnah, and synagogue prayers, far example) or in material of ethnically, historically, and religiously varying provenance (pre-mid-first-century Jewish and pagan, coincident with post-firstcentury Jewish, pagan, and Christian), then, I wilI argue, that position probably obtained, at least as one among many, in the mid-ftrst century as well (211).
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CONFLICT, CONQUEST, AND RECRUITMENT
By using this criterion of multiple attestation Fredriksen wants both to find a coherent picture of the views of first century Jews and at the same time allow for some variety. Modestly she tries to identify a Jewish position, "at least as one among many." At one point she go es beyond this modest attempt, however, and identifies a J ewish view which she thinks is more than one among many: "All the material we have reviewed - biblical and extrabiblical Jewish writings, Josephus, the rabbis, and outsiders whether pagan or Christian - emphasize circumcision as the sine qua non of becoming a Jew" (223; cf. 213-214). It is hardly correct to say that "all the material we have reviewed . . . emphasize circumcision as the sine qua non of becoming a Jew." On page 213 Fredriksen refers to Philo's views on the status of proselytes, Virt. 102-104 and Spec. 1:52-54. 1 She does not discuss the fact, however, that Philo neither in these two passages nor in the many other passages on proselytism states that the proselytes must be circumcised to become a Jew. Moreover, Fredriksen ought to include in her study a detailed analysis of material which says that it is not circumcision which gives a Gentile the status as a Jewish proselyte. There are recorded some subtle discussions ab out exactly when a Gentile convert received the status of being a Jew. Yebamot 46a exemplifies how such a distinction could be made. Here R. Joshua says: "Is he baptized and not circumcised, such a person is a proselyte." A corresponding, although different, distinction is drawn by Philo in Quaes. Ex 2:2: "7rpooffAV70C; is not the one who has circumcised his circumcision, but the one who [has circumcised] his desires and sensual pleasures and the other passions of the soul." Among other texts which might indicate that a Gentile convert received status as a J ew already before taking circumcision are Tanh. B., Wayikra, 2a fin.-2binit. and b. Sabb. 31a. It seems that according to R. Judah bar Shalom (Tanhuma B 2a-2b), a Gentile convert receives the status as a proselyte when he abandoned idolatry, and that according to Hillel, a convert becomes aproselyte when accepting the Golden Rule as a summary of the Torah (b. Sabb. 31a). For Philo, Judah and Hillel and others who held similar views, bodily circumcision was not the requirement for entering the Jewish community, but was one of the commandments which they had to obey upon receiving status as a J ew . Fredriksen states that according to J osephus "the decision to receive circumcision is what distinguishes, quite precisely, the sympathizer from the lFor the following, see Borgen 1983. See further McEleney:323-24; 328-33; Borgen 1980:86-88, cf. Borgen 1983:61-71. The objections raised by Nolland:192-94, especiaUy against the analysis of McEleney, are on the whole not convincing and call for further discussion of the various texts.
BORGEN: A RESPONSE TO uANOTHER LOOK AT GAL 1 AND 2"
247
convert" (213). She refers to the story about King Izates of Adiabene told by Josephus in Ant. 20:38-48, and writes: "Josephus does not depict Ananias 'allowing' Izates to be a convert without circumcision, while Eleazar insists on it; rather , Ananias welcomes Izates as a sympathizer precisely to preserve the king's status as a Gentile, and thus lessen the risk of provoking popular incident (Ant. 20:38-41). Eleazar teIls him that, if he would be a Jew, he roust convert, i.e., be circumcised (42-47)" (223, n. 42). The situation as pictured by Fredriksen does not seem to do justice to Josephus's report, however. The two J ews, the merchant Ananias and the Galilean Eleazar , had different views on the necessity of circumcision. In the precarious situation of the king, Ananias made the judgment that the king should abstain from taking circumcision: "The king could, he said, worship· God even without being circurocised if indeed he strived after following the ancestral laws of the Jews. This counted more than taking circumcision. He told him, furthermore, that God Himself would pardon him if, constrained thus by necessity and by fear of his subjects, he failed to perform this rite." Against the view of Fredriksen it must be said that Ananias did not regard King Izates just as a sympathizer. He did not only say that the king was to worship God and follow some of the ancestral laws of the Jews (7(l! 7rCL7PU:X 7WV 'Iovoaiwv), but stated that he should zealously follow the Jewish ancestral laws. Ananias even teIls the king that "this counted more than taking circumcision" (7007' elvaL KvpLW7epov 700 7repL78IlVeo()aL). This formulation cannot mean that to worship the Jewish God as a sympathizer counted more than taking circumcision. Thus, in Ananias's judgment the king was a Jewish proselyte who, due to the circumstances, broke one commandment, circumcision, and would receive forgiveness by God for this. Eleazar , "who had a reputation for being extremely strict concerning the ancestral laws (7rep"l 7Ot. 7rCL7PU:X) . . . " disagreed with Ananias and regarded the sin of not. taking circumcision to be a most severe one: "In your ignorance, 0 king , YOU' are guilty of the greatest (rOt. 1l8-YLora) offense against the laws and thereby against God." According to Eleazar, the king had to make his conversion complete by being circumcised. If not, the king was guilty of the greatest offense against the Jewish laws to which he as a proselyte had committed hirnself. Thus Eleazar said to the king: "How long will you continue to be uncircumcised?" Scholars have maintained that since Izates was a monarch his case was a very special one, and that Ananias advised the king not to take circumcision due to caution, not because of religious belief.2 2S ee Nolland:192-94, and Feldman.
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CONFLICT, CONQUEST, AND RECRUITMENT
King Izates's situation was hardly so unique, however, since Je,:ish proselytes elsewhere might face severe dangers from the pagan surroundmgs also. Thus Philo, Spec. 4: 178, writes: "For the proselyte, because he has turned his kinfolk . . . into irreconcilable enemies . . . . " In any case, the passage in J osephus gives proof for different vie.wpoints on circumcisi~n as applied to the case of a Jewish proselyte. Ananlas placed less emphaslS on the commandment of circumcision than did Eleazar .3
The Present and the Eschatological Future After discussing the understanding and practice of proselytism among Jews in Antiquity, Fredriksen moves into an analysis of J ewish views. on the fate of Gentiles at the End (220-225). She rightly clusters the matenal around two poles. At the negative extreme the nations are destroyed, ~efeated,. ~r in some way subjected to Israel. At the positive extreme, the natlons partlclpate in Israel' s redemption. This survey of J ewish eschatological ideas is very helpful. Fredriksen is well aware of the fact that a wide variety of views existed. Before making some comments on Fredriksen's analysis, a few more observations on Jewish proselytizing practices in his tory should be added. It is important to note that proselytism did not only refer to individuals who converted to Judaism. As shown in my essay in the present book, Josephus even records cases where military conquests of peoples and proselytism were combined. He teIls that Hyrcanus and Aristobulus subdued the Idumeans and Itureans respectively and forced them to take circumcision and accept the Jewish laws (Ant. 13:318; 13:257-58). Against this background the question is to be raised: Are there also Jewish ideas ab out the eschatological future which indicate that the nations will become proselytes? Although Fredriksen rightly shows the rich variety of eschatolog~cal views among the Jews, she thinks that they are all uniform at this one pomt: "Eschatological Gentiles, those who would gain admission to the Kingdom once it was established, would enter as Gentiles" (224). One ought to be open for more of a variety of ideas also at this point. For example, in 3~d Sib. 716-19 it is not only said that the Gentiles in the future shall worship "the great eternal God" and "send to the Temple," but they shall "all pon~er the Law of the Most High God." Moreover, in Mos. 2:43-44 Phllo· expresses the hope that the nations will throw overboard their ancestral
. 3McEleney:328: "Obviously, Ananias thought the precept was dispensible in necessity. "
BORGEN: A RESPONSE TO "ANOTHER LOOK AT GAL 1 AND 2"
249
customs and honor the Jewish laws alone. A rabbinic passage, Sopre Deut., Berakah 354, f. 147a, demonstrates how individuals and the peoples are seen together without any sharp distinctions being drawn. The passage is an exegetical commentary on Deut 23:19: "They shall call the peoples unto the mountain; there shall they offer righteous sacrifices." Then the expository elaboration folIows: The peoples and their kings will come together on business to Palestine, and they will say, "Since we have troubled ourse1ves to come hither, let us look as the business of the Jews, and what its nature is," and so they will go to Jerusalem, and they will observe how Israel worships One God ooIy, and eats one sort of food ooIy, while of the nations, each worships different gods, and the food of one is not the food of the other, and they will say, "It is well to join this people," and they will not budge from Jerusalem until they are made proselytes, and they will offer sacrifices and burnt offerings (Montefiore and Loewe: 564-65).
Since these passages seem to express the future hope and expectation that the nations will accept the laws of the Jews, Le., the Torah and thus become proselytes, then one cannot, as Fredriksen does, argue ex silentio from the circumstance that cicumcision is not explicitly specified in them. In general, an argument ex silentio is to be regarded as a weak one. Moreover, if the intention was to express the idea that the nations will accept the Jewish laws to the exclusion of the commandment of circumcision, then this exception would have had to be stated explicitly. Thus, the question of the circumcision of the nations was an issue in connection with some of the ideas ab out the future eschatological hope of the Gentile nations. As for Paul and the Letter to the Galatians 1 and 2, Fredriksen states: Paul "knew that he lived in the very last rlays. And in those days, according tohis tradition, God would rede em the nations from their idolatry graciously, without the works of the Law; in those days Jew and Gentile together would go up to the mountain of the Lord, to worship, together, at the house of the God of Jacob" (224), and that without requiring the Gentiles to take circumcision. According to Fredriksen, "the false brethren" (Gal 2:4) pressed for Gentile conversions rather than such an eschatological inclusion. Thus, according to them, male Gentiles had to be circumcised. It would lead too far to enter into a further dialogue with Fredriksen here. It only should be repeated that the question of the role and place of circumcision in the process of becoming a proselyte was a debated issue among Jews. Moreover, the distinction between the proselytizing of individuals and of peoples was a fluid one. FinaIly, among the wide variety of eschatological ideas, both the idea of the inclusion of the Gentiles and the idea of their conversion are found. The issue in Galatians is that of different views on the eschatological conversion of the Gentiles, Le., as proselytes, and the role of
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CONFLICT, CONQUEST, AND RECRUITMENT
the Law in this eschatological situation. Within this context Paul did not only argue for the eschatological inclusion of the Gentiles as a Gentile "addition" to the worshipping Jews. He argued for another principle which eschatologically put Jews and Gentiles on equal footing, namely both being the children of Abraham on the condition of faith in Jesus Christ.
Works Consulted Borgen, Pe der 1980 "Observations on the Theme 'Paul and Philo.' Paul's Preaching of Circumcision in Galatia (Gal5:11) and Debates on Circumcision in Philo." pp. 85-102 in Sigfred Pedersen ed. Die Paulinische Literatur und Theologie. Aarhus: Forlaget Aros. 1983 "The Early Church and the Hellenistic Synagogue." ST 37:55-78 (also available in Peder Borgen, Philo, lohn and Paul: New Perspectives on ludaism and Early Christianity. BJS 131. Atlanta: Scholars, 1987, pp. 207-32). Feldman, L. (trans.) 1969 losephus with an English Translation. 10 Vols. LCL. Cambridge, MA: Harvard U niversity. McEleney, N. J. 1974 "Conversion, Circumcision and the Law." NTS 20:319-41. Montefiore, C. G. and H. Loewe (eds.) 1960 A Rabbinie Anthology. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society. Nolland, J. 1981
"Uncircumcised Proselytes. " lSJ 12:192-194.
CHAPTER 10
EXPANSION AND CONFLICT: THE RHETORIC OF HEBREW BIBLE CITATIONS IN GALATIANS 3 Kjell Ame Morland Melhus, Norway
Introduction Paul's letter to the Galatians is in many ways a distinctive example to illustrate the emphasis of the Trondheim Symposium: Aspects of the emerging Christian conquest discussed against the background of recruitment and conflict among various religions. In Galatia, the mission of Paul recruited many converts with Gentile backgrounds. (Gal 4:8-9, 13-14). A conflict arose because Jewish-inspired opponents or missionaries sought to impose circumcision on Gentile converts (5:2-3; 6:12-13). Apparently kosher laws (2:11-14) and calendar observance (4:10) were also included in this conflict. The letter itself is an attempt by Paul to resolve the conflict by persuading the Galatians to choose his teaching and to reject his opponents and their teaching (4:12,20; 5:10). Thus we encounter two Christian missionary groups competing for the same group of converts. They disagree about the necessity of circumcision for Gentiles in particular and probably also obedience to Mosaic law in general. Paul preaches freedom from these obligations; his opponents proclaim their necessity. Comparable situations may be reflected in some J ewish texts that portray Jewish methods of proselytism, with the conversion of King Izates in Josephus Ant. 20:38-46 as a famous example (cf. e.g., McEleney:328-33; Borgen 68-69). The advantage of Paul' s letter to the Galatians is that the entire letter reflects this conflict. On the other hand, the disadvantage is that it documents the conflict only from one, very-involved perspective. This fact has challenged scholars to try to reconstruct the position of both the opponents and the Galatians by "mirror-reading" certain passages of the letter. The results differ considerably, however (cf. surveys of research, e.g., Eckert:I-18; Brinsmead:9-22; Mussner:II-24), which suggests the necessity for a methodological improvement (cf. Barclay; Berger 1980). In my Emory Studies in Early Christianity volume, I insisted on interpreting the letter as a coherent
(
I
I 252
MORLAND: EXPANSION AND CONFLICT 253
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
response without involving any reconstruction of the arguments of the opponents (Morland:100-103). In this study, however, I will describe some important aspects of my rhetorical analysis of the letter in order to build a foundation for an attempt to reconstruct the other side of the conflict. The main thesis of this study is as folIows: The Hebrew Bible citations give important eIues for reconstructing some main elements of the conflict. These citations may be analyzed more eIearly in a methodological way if we see them as reflections of disputes according to Hellenistic rhetorical status legales. The letter itself demonstrates that Paul eagerly appeals to Scripture for his position. Wehave no reason to doubt that the stricter party would do the same. Both appeal to the Hebrew Bible in order to persuade an audience more acquainted with Hellenistic than Jewish culture. Therefore the arguments of the conflict most probably relate to conventions that are accepted by all participants in the conflict. Therefore, patterns of persuasion from Hellenistic rhetoric are a most fruitful source to uncover these common conventions (cf. Mack and Robbins). First, however, I will present the three types of sources that are involved, before I interpret the Hebrew Bible citations in Ga! 3:8-14 and then make some coneIusions.
TABLE: HEBREW BIBLE CITATIONS IN GALATIANS. TEXT
3:6
CITATION AND INTRODUCTION Gen 15: 6
Change in succession of words
- Ka(}Wt; • . .
3:8
Gen 12:3/18:8 - 7rpo8ur/'Y-Y8)..iaaTo T(!J ·Aßpaap. ön ...
3:10
Deut 27: 26/29: 19b(?) - -y8-ypa7rTCJ.t -yap ön ...
Omission
3:12
Lev 18:5
Omission Exchange (Paul' s formulation)
- a)..)..· • .•
3:16
0/ the Hebrew Bible in Galatians 4:22f
Deut 21:23/27:26 - ön -Y8-ypa7rTaL . . .
Mixed Citation Omission Addition.
Gen 13:15, etc.
- ou )..8-Y8L ...
a)..)..·
Gen 16:15/17:16/21:2.9
Paraphrase
- -y8-ypa7rTCJ.t -yap ön ...
4:27
Isa 54:1 - -y8-ypa7rTCJ.t -yap .•.
4:30
Gen 21:10 - a)..)..a Ti )..8-YEn
5:14
~
-ypacpr,
Lev 19:18 - b -yap 7rar:; 1I0P.Or:; 811 ellt )..o-yCfl 7r87r)..r,PWTCJ.t, 811 T(!J ...
IThe most re cent treatment is given by Koch, especially 33, 48-83, 90, 284-85, 28889,299-301. See also Ellis:lO-16, 117-25, 139-47. 2Cf. Koch:22-23 for the list, and 102-66 for the categories and observations of changes in the texts. He does not inc1ude the paraphrase of 4:22-23, but I find it apprQpriate to inc1ude this reference since Paul's use of Scripture is both conscious and explicit here.
Mixed Citation Change in Gender Omission
Hab 2:4 - ön ...
The Relevant Sources
As is often noted, Paul' s use of the Hebrew Bible seems to be very conscious, and he seems to cite the LXX, though often with conscious changes in the text. 1 In Galatians, the Hebrew Bible citations - with their introductory phrases and changes according to the LXX -:- may be tabulated in the following way:2
Mixed Citation Omission
3:11
3:13
Paul 's Use
CHANGES
Omission Exchange (Paul's formulation)
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
This table demonstrates that Gal 3: 6-14 contains the most interesting of Paul's citations from the Hebrew Bible in Galatians. In this section the citations are both consciously introduced and intentionally changed in a significant way. In contrast, the Hebrew Bible text is paraphrased in Gal 4:2223, whereas the citations in Gal 4:27 and 5:14 are eited without changes. In this study, I will concentrate on the Hebrew Bible citations in 3: 8-14 as important elues for reconstructing the conflict in Galatia.
Jewish Interpretations ofthe Involved Texts The second type of informative sources for comparison are traditional J ewish interpretations of the texts cited in Gal 3. Commonly we find references to such traditions for Gen 15:6; Hab 2:4; Lev 18:5; and Deut 21 :23 "in the commentaries. In my book I devoted special attention to Jewish traditions of interpretation of Deut 27:26 and 21 :23. I will incorporate my findings from this material in the exegesis of specific texts below. This material provides a specfic foil against which a "mirror-reading" of Paul's argument can be attempted.
The "Status Legales" from Hellenistic Rhetoric The new element in this study is the attempt to inelude a third type of comparative text, namely the widespread and conventional rules found in and reflected by rhetorical handbooks. Since one cannot find elose par allels to Paul's use of Scripture in Jewish exegetical traditions,3 it may be productive to inquire whether techniques from Hellenistic rhetoric are to be found in Paul's rhetoric in Galatians. This is not a new proposal: D. Daube demonstrated that Hillel's seven rules of" interpretation seem to be influenced by Hellertistic rhetoric. 4 F. Siegert is convinced that Paul's hermeneutic "liegt ganz im Bereich des hellenistischen common sense" (158-61, eit. 158). He also points espeeially to juridical methods, but without drawing on the theory of status. Recently J. S. 3Cf. Koch:190-98, 202-30. A review of research is found 1-10. Cf. also Bllis:8384. 4Cf. Daube who repeatedly refers to the status legales for the main ideas underlying Hille1's program (246-51), to Analogy for roles 2-4 (251-52), and to Ambiguity for the last role (257). The thirteen roles of Ishmael mainly specify Hillel's roles, but they add a new role concerning Conflicting Laws, cf. Strack/Stemberger:31. Other scholars also see a Hellenistic influence in these roles, cf. Mayer: 1196-98; Koch:221; Strack/Stemberger:27; Hansen:204; Hengel:28. It is dear that Paul and the Galatians do not have to be lawyers in order to apply the status legales. Its basic patterns became part of generally-accepted conventions in the culture.
MORLAND: EXPANSION AND CONFLICT 255 Vos has explicitly introduced the status of legum contrariarum as a elue to the interpretation of Gal 3: 11-] 2 and Rom 10: 5-1 O. The theory of status is found extensively in Hellenistic handbooks, and it concerns different modes of handling a judicial case. 5 One part of the theory is denoted as the status legales, which concerns disputes connected to interpretation of written documents. Four kinds of such disputes can be dis tinguished: They could be related to the will behind the words in a law, to contradictory laws, to ambiguous expressions, or to reasoning from analogy.6 The first of these disputes concerns Letter and intent (scriptum et voluntas) , and it "arises when the framer's intention appears to be at variance with the letter of the text" (ad Herenn. I.xi.19)." The point was to emphasize the will of the lawgiver and to interpret and employ the law accordingly. This technique was especially persuasive if one could find words in the laws themselves that revealed this will. 7 The second dispute concerns Conflicting laws (leges contrariae), "when one law orders or permits a deed while another forbids it" (ad Herenn. I.xi.20). This conflict has to be reconciled, because contradictory statements were incompatible with the nature of justice. The third dispute concerns Ambiguity (ambiguitas) , "when a text presents two or more meanings" (ad Herenn. I.xii.20). The point is to argue for the interpretation that seems most natural and corresponds to the intention of the author. The fourth dispute concerns Analogy (syllogismus), "when a matter that arises for adjudication lacks a speeifically applicable law, but an analogy is sought from other existing laws on the basis of a certain similarity to the matter in question" (ad Herenn. I. xiii. 23). When we interpret Paul's use of the Hebrew Bible in this light, much of the logic that is involved becomes easily explainable. For our purpose, however, it is also fruitful because the various disputes by definition are con5The theory was conceptualized by Hermagoras (2nd c. BCB) in a now lost handbook and rendered with slight modifications in Cicero's De lnventione (1st c. BCB) and by Hermogenes (2nd c. CB). Martin 28-52 gives a useful presentation of the theory in all relevant handbooks. A useful diachronical presentation is found in R. Nadeau's textedition of Hermog. Stat. 370-86. Both ad Alexan. 1442b.33-1444a.15 and Arist. Rhet. I.xiii.9-19 show that the mode of reasoning is ancient, but it is Cicero and ad Herennium which preserve the earliest witnesses to the theory as a system. 6Hermagoras taught these as legal questions, while Hermogenes denoted them as status legales, cf. R. Nadeau's text-edition of Hermog. Stat. 378, 385-86. Cicero (lnv. 1. xiii. 17-18) also treats them as disputes separate from the status, while ad Herenn. I.xi.19 - xiii.23 presents them as subdivisions of what he denotes as the legal status. The disputes, however, are the same in spite of different dassifications. 7Cf. Martin:46-52 for a presentation of this and the following disputes.
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nected to contlicting opinions between two parties. A stasis is "a question that acts as a focus or center for opposing contentions in a controversy" (Nadeau's Hermogenes:369). As Martin notes, "Es entwickelt sich aus der bejahenden Behauptung der einen Partei [ ... ] und der ihr widersprechenden der anderen Partei" (28). Therefore, if we are able to identify Paul's argument as retlecting one or more of these disputes, we also know much ab out how to reconstruct the opposing view. The inner relation between the first three disputes mayaiso be significant. Most important of them is Letter and intent, since a discussion of Contlicting laws according to Hermogenes also is a kind of Letter and intent (Hermog. Stat. 41,4-5; 83,20 - 84,2; Vos:261-62). When two laws contlict, one must seek to find the intention behind each of them in order to explain their different purposes . The status of Ambiguity, however, is not often appealed to as a basic dispute, since it normally would demand a law where it is possible to draw two different conclusions as a result of where to place the ac cent or where to separate syllables (Hermog. Stat. 41,15). It is rather appealed to as apart of the discussion related to the other disputes, especially in questions arising from utterances of the gods (Hermog. Stat. 90:12-15). We must thus be especially aware of a contlict where one party relies on the Letter while the other appeals to the intent. This mayaiso involve contlicting laws and appeals to ambiguities in the text. It is also necessary to consider the advice for the division of each dispute. The rhetor is supplied with a list of relevant topics according to which one may pursue a process in each case. The handbooks give counsel concerning persuasive argumentations wbich, although they differ from each other, reveal some constant perspectives. 8 Since Paul's arguments do not take place in court, we have no reason to consider these lists as important for his disposition of the argument. 9 Paul's arguments, though, retlect conventional modes of argumentation. It is therefore notable that the topic Intention of the framer of the law is important in all disputes. lO Once again we see that an appeal to the intention of the lawgiver is of primary importance. We thus have a method of analyzing Paul' s appeal to the Hebrew Bible both on a macro-Ievel and on a micro-Ievel. On the macro-Ievel we will seek for information in the text of Gal 3 as a whole to see if we find traces of these disputes. On the micro-Ievel we will consider each Hebrew Bible citation to 8The lists are brief in ad Herenn. II.ix.13-xü.18, but more comprehensive in Cicero and Hermogenes, cf. Martin:240-43. 9Contra Vos:265-66 who finds the whole argument of Gal 3:9-22 to reflect one broadly used dispositio related to Conflicting laws. . lOWe find it primarily as the fIrst general topic after the presentation of the case 10 He~og. Stat. 82:13-16; 85:5-9,12-15; 88:18 - 89:10; 91:7-12.
MORLAND: EXPANSION AND CONFLICT 257 determine whether Paul' s changes in the LXX text indicate how he defends bis interpretation. 11
Analysis of Hebrew Bible Citations in Gal 3 The contlict in Galatia concerned the necessity of circumcision for Gentile converts. Seeking to meet this challenge, Paul chose a particular theological perspective on the contlict (cf. especially 2:16; 3:2, 5), wbich again enabled hirn to argue specifically from certain Hebrew Bible texts (cf. 3:6 onwards). This means that we cannot claim that Paul' s opponents actually cited some of the Hebrew Bible texts wbich Paul uses. All we know is that Paul chose these citations for bis own purpose. Because ·of the polemical nature of the letter, we must also utilize caution. But since Paul seeks to persuade his Galatian audience, bis polemic - although it may amplify the situation cannot misconstrue the situation in a way that the audience does not recognize as fitting. Paul's persuasiveness thus depends, in part, on a fitting, though polemical, description of the situation. We may therefore be confident that Paul's argumentation fits the typical aspects of the theology of the opponents.
References to Conjlict of Laws, Intention, and Time in Gal3 It is easiest to employ the status-theory on the macro-Ievel of Gal 3. At the center of Gal 3 we find the opposition between the law and God's promise to Abraham (3:15-18). It is presented as a contlict between two legal documents, and we seem to be cast into a legal discussion according to the status of Conjlicting laws (Vos:265). According to ad Herennium, "When two laws contlict, we must first see whether they have been superseded or restricted" (II.x.15). Paul's discussion seems to reflect tbis method of arguing in a twofold way: On one hand, he emphasizes that the promise has not been superseded by the law (3:17-18). On the other hand, he emphasizes that the Sinai covenant has been restricted by having a minor role (3:19-22; Vos:266). It has also been superseded by the coming of faith (3:23-25). This Contlict of laws is also discussed with a concern for the Intention of the law-giver. Paul states in 3:8 that the Scripture, foreseeing (7rpo7.oovaex) that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand
11I follow Koch:l0l, 346-47 in asking for conscious pauline changes over against the LXX text. Ellis:14-15 also recommends this with some modifIcations. Cf. also Hengel: 35-36 (with notes 191 and 192).
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to Abraham. Paul also draws conc1usions with ware 3:14). Paul also asks why the Sinai covenant was given (3: 19a) and answers with a XapLv-phrase (3: 19b). As in Hellenistic rhetoric his presupposition is that there must be an intent which does not contradic~ the promise (3:21). Here we also find conc1usions with waTe (3:24) and LVCi (3:22, 24). Lastly we also find a c1ear example of Ambiguity in 3: 16. When Paul discusses the promise of Gen 13:15 (cf. Gen 17:8; 24:7), he emphasizes that it is given in the singular and not in the plural. This demonstrates an ambiguity in the text: whether the reference should be understood as relating to a group or to a specific person. 12 We thus find that a combination of Conflict of laws and Letter and intent is involved in the argument of Gal 3 at a macro-Ievel, and also that at least one of the minor arguments involves Ambiguity. If this is correct, it is easy to imply the position of Paul's opponents: They emphasized the Sinai Covenant, and they understood the promise of Gen 13: 15 as refering to the Jewish nation as a whole. The question remains, however, how much more we can ascertain from Paul' s citations of the Hebrew Bible in. this passage. (1fpOeVT1"l'ye'ALaCiTO) (3:9) and LVCi (2x in
Conjlict ofLaws between Hab 2:4 and Lev 18:5 We will begin with a discussion of the argument in 3:11-12, since these verses are frequently connected to legal disputes. Scholars commonly make two important observations: On one hand many scholars see a syllogistic logic of the second degree in these verses (Sieffert:154; Bligh:262-63; Cosgrove 1978:147; Stanley:503; Vos:257): Major premise: Minor premise: Conclusion:
He who is just by faith will live (3: 11 b). But the law does not enjoin faith (3: 12a). Therefore no one is justified by the law (3: 11 a).
Here we find a certain antithesis between the two premises. Since one of the premises consists of a quotation from Hab 2:4, and the second is illustrated by a quotation from Lev 18:5 (cf. 3:12b), it also implies some kind of conflict between t~e quotations. The conflict is emphasized by the fact that the second citation is introduced with CL'A'Aa, and by the fact that they depict conflicting principles for obtaining life (t1jaeTCiL). C
12Por references to Jewish exegesis of (J7ripJ.1.Ci and also to possible predecessors of Paul's individual exegesis of the term, cf. Mussner:238-40; Betz:157; Hansen:207-208. Por J ewish texts that discuss singular versus plural, cf. Schlier: 145; Bruce: 172-73.
Thus many scholars see the argument as an instance of Conflicting laws: 13 The opponents' position is presented by Lev 18:5 as a contrast to Paul's in Hab 2:4. Such a use of Lev 18:5 would be consistent with traditional Jewish emphasis on law-obedience. 14 If this is the case, how can Hab 2:4 be defended as the most important principle? Do we find any indication that one of the principles has been restricted or superseded? It may be important that only Hab 2:4 is found in an eschatological context,15 not Lev 18:5. 16 Thus Hab 2:4 can be defended as the most important principle,17 while Lev 18:5 represents the superseded and restricted one. This interpretation implies that the term NaeTCiL is ambiguous: Only Hab 2:4 refers to life as a blessing in the new era, while Lev 18: 5 uses the term in a weaker sense,18 This point is taken up in Gal 3: 21 , which implies that the Mosaic law was not given to bring life. Since no law-obedient Jew would play Hab 2:4 off against Lev 18:5 in the way Paul does here, there must also be an Ambiguity involved. Paul's changes in the texts demonstrate that the ambiguity concerns faith: Hab 2:4: Gal3:11:
b OB OiKCiLO~ 8K 7rr.aTBw~ J.1.0V NaBTCiL b Or.KCiLO~ 8K 7rr.aTBw~ NaBTO!L
Gal 3: 12: b 7rOL~aO!~ O!UTa NaBTCiL 811 CiUTO'i~ Lev 18:5: &. 7rOL~aO!~ &1I(}pW7rO~ NaBTCiL i;p O!UTO'i~
By changing the opening words of Lev 18:5, Paul creates a dearer contrast: While the LXX text opens with a relative pronoun, Paul opens with the same artic1e as the verse from Hab 2:4. The most important change, however, is the omission of P.OV from Hab 2:4 in the LXX. This means that Paul takes faith in the sense that he has discussed it from Gal 2: 16 onward, namely as a faith that is opposed to works of the law (Koch: 127-28; Fitzmyer:452-53). The conflicting position is easy to imply: It is - similar 13Schoeps:177-78 and Dahl:162-64 refer to Jewish exegetical rules concerning such disputes, while Vos:265-67 refers to status legales. 14Cf. Betz: 148. Similar Jewish expressions are listed in Mussner:229-30, while rabbinical interpretations of Lev 18:5 are found in Str-B III:277-78. 15Cf. Ellis:121 and the explicit references to the end-time in Hab 2:2-3, which are made even c1earer in the LXX. Such an emphasis is also found in Hanson:42-45 and Hays:151-57; Cosgrove 1988:55-58; though they have christological interpretations which I do not see in these texts. 16The Hebrew Bible context gives no indications of eschatological meaning, contra the christological interpretation by, e.g., Reicke:249-50. 17Cf. Cicero, Inv. II.xlix.145: "In the first place, then, one should compare the laws by considering which one deals with the most important matters (ad maiores)." 18Cf. ad Herenn. IV.xv.21 for the rhetorical figure oLO!lj>opa, which consists of using the same term in different meanings in the same context.
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to 1QpHab 8:1-3 - to interpretfaith in Hab 2:4 as obedience (Betz:139, 47; Str-B III:542-44). In this way our analysis of Gal 3:11-12 has supplied us with further information about the stance of Paul's opponents. They stick to a position which can be summarized by Lev 18:5, and they tend to harmonize Hab 2:4 with that principle. In our analysis so far we have been able to argue that certain positions of the opponents are stated in the text itself. This is not the case in Gal 3:8-10, 13-14, however, and the next question is whether the theory may be of any help in those sections.
An implied Conflict of Laws in Gal3:8-10 In Gal 3: 8-1 0 we also find an antithesis that involves two Hebrew Bible citations. This time, however, Paul does not play them against each other; they rather supplement each other: The argument in 3:8-9 gives the principle of blessing, while 3:10 gives the principle of curse in an antithetic construction. 19 I noted above that the argument opens with an emphasis on the intention of the Scripture (cf. the two verbs opening with 7rpo). This indicates that, this time, we should look for a dispute concerning Letter and intent and Ambiguity rather than Contlict of laws. If one, in a dispute concerning Ambiguity, wants to argue for the Intent of the framer of the law, Cicero states that one shall "examine the whole document which contains the ambiguity in question in all its parts, to see if any thing is apposite to our interpretation [ . . . ] For it is easy to estimate what it is likely that the writer intended from the complete context . . ." (<;icero, Inv. II.xl.117). Paul seems to have followed such a procedure both for the interpretation of the blessing and the curse: As for the blessing in 3:8 it is important to note that it is both part of a syllogism and a mixed citation. The syllogism may be constructed by taking the thesis of 3:8a a~ a conclusion, which is succeeded by a Hebrew Bible citation as a general premise, and where the specific premise is implied from 3:6 (Hübner: 17; further Thuruthumaly:96; Morland:199 for a formally more correct syllogism): General premise: (Specific premise: Conclusion:
In thee (=Abraham) shall all the nations be blessed (3:8b). Abraham believed God [3: 6]). God would justify the Gentiles by faith (3: 8a).
The implied logic thus consists in bringing two passages together and letting them throw mutual light upon each other. 19Cf. Sieffert: 152; Burton: 163; Oepke: 105; Rohde: 140; Thuruthumaly: 105. Normally ~his antithesis is understood as separating 3:8-9 from 3:10, but I think it provides a eonneeting element.
In addition 3:8b is a mixed citation from Gen 12:3; 18:18 (cf. 22:18; 26:4; Koch: 162-63). Paul thus prefers the expression "all the nations" (7raVTCi Ta e(Jvy/) from the latter textes) to the expression "all the families of the earth" (Gen 12:3). Therefore he prefers the expression which most clearly incorporates the inclusion of Gentile Christi ans (Bruce:156; Betz:142; Koch:163; Hansen:115). The main force of the argument is the connection Paul makes between Gen 15:6 and Gen 12:3. He involves hirns elf in a dispute about the expression "in thee" (iv aoL). Jewish tradition also emphasized this phrase, but took it to refer to the obedience of Abraham (Str-B III:539; Mussner:220-21). It is the new connection that Paul makes to Gen 15: 6 that ties the blessing to faith instead of obedience. Paul pulls together different passages from Genesis in a way that demonstrates that he searches for the Intent of the framer of the law. A similar logic is implied in the curse of 3:10.- Also here we seem to find an abbreviated syllogism: General premise: "Cursed be every one who does not abide by all things written in the book of the 1aw, and do them" (3:10b). (Specific premise: ???) Conclusion: All who rely on the works of the law are under a eurse (3: lOa).
This syllogism (if it is a syllogism) has caused endless debate among scholars, since it is very surprising that the citation from Deut 27:26 can be seen as cursing the law-keeper instead of the law-breaker. Many different reconstructions of the omitted premise have been presented (Morland:9-10, 203-204), but that debate does not concern us here. What concerns us now is that here Paul seems to have pulled together different passages of Deuteronomy in order to search for the Intent of the framer of the law: . Deut 27:26: Gal3:1O: Deut 28:58: Deut 28:61: Deut 29:19: Deut 29:20:
TOL<;; ACJ'yot<;; TOU vop.ov TOUTOV TOL<;; 'Y8'YPCi.p.p.evou; ev Tiil ßtßAL4J TOU VOP.OV Ta 'Y8'YPCi.P.P.8vOt<;; ev Tiil ßtßAL4J TOVT4J T~V p.~ 'Y8'YPCi.p.p.eVTW sv Tiil ßtßAL4J TOU VOP.OV TOVTOV Ci.i. 'Y8'YPCi.p.p.evCi.L ev Tiil ßtßAL4J TOU VOP.OV T~VTOV Ta<;; 'Y8'YPCi.P.P.8vCi.<;; ev Tiil ßtßAL4J TOU VOP.OV TOUTOV
= Identieal with 29:26; 30:10.
Paul omits the word TOVTOV which limits the intention of the phrases to the Deuteronomic law-corpus. He also has a preference for the expres.sion "written in the book." This means that he shifts the attention from Deut 1226 to the whole Pentateuch, as it is present, as a written document. In some way or another he takes this as a basis to curse those who adhere to the law.
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He finds a deeper level in the curse which makes it into a threat that undermines obedience itself. How can we reconstruct the position of the opponents on this basis? It was easy to do in 3:11-12, because we had an instance of Conflicting laws. Then the opponents represented the conflicting position. I claim that it is easy to imply a Conflict of laws also in these verses. In my book I presented a large group of Jewish curse-texts with an antithesis between curse and blessing (Morland:chap. 3, sec. 4.2). Most belong to the Deut 27-30-tradition, dealing with the antithesis between curse and blessing connected to obedience in Deut 28: 1-20 and 30: 15-20·. The most important texts are Philo Praem. 79-126; Jub. 19:10 - 22:30; 1 Enoch 1-5, 94-102; 1QS ii.1-18; t. Naph. 8:4-6. Compare also Deut 11:26-29; Jer 17:5-8; Mal 2:1-9; Josephus Ant. 4,302-06; J. W. 5:401; Philo Fuga 73; Heres 177. Altogether I have found curse and blessing in antithesis 64 times with both curse- and blessing-terminology present, and I concluded that it should be regarded as a conventional element in Jewish tradition. Once this conventional background has been discovered, it is easy to see how Paul' santithesis between curse and blessing differs from these Jewish texts which all relate blessing to obedience toward the law. The conflicting view in Galatia is thus represented by Deut 28:1-20. Although scholars have not seen this connection clearly before,20 I am convinced that readers who are familiar both with this basic antithesis in J ewish tradition and the rhetorical conventions concerning legal disputes will easily imply an opposing antithesis in this way. Thus the position of the opponents most probably is reflected in texts such as Deut 28:1-20. The antithesis of 3: 8-10 is thus a foreshadowing of die discussion from 3:150nward: a) The blf~ssing in 3:8 foreshadows the argument of 3:15-18 with its emphasis on the promise to Abraham as the basic one that is not restricted or superseded, cf. 3:8a: "And the scripture, foreseeing (7rpo'ioouacx) that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand (7rPOeV'Tl'Y'YeALacxTo) to Abraham." This me ans that the Abraham-tradition is treated as an eschatological tradition, an emphasis which is even more explicit in 3:14, 16. This conforms to a Jewish theological emphasis in which Abraham is a prototype for proselytes,21 and also with a tendency of 20Lühnnann:56-59 is dosest to this reading with his indieations that Paul redefines the eoneept of blessing and eurse in these verses. Cf. also Hartman: 11 0-11; Ebeling: 229, 234,238. 21Cf. Berger TRE:373-74 for such a paradigmatie function of Abraham. Cf. also Wieser: 160-71 far Jewish material whieh he eharaeterizes as the motif of "Bewährung," and 171-75 for material eoneerning Abraham and the Gentiles.
relating Gen 12:3 to the future era of restoration. 22 b) The curse in 3:10 foreshadows the argument of 3:19-25 with its emphasis on the role of the law as leading to sin (3: 19, 22), as not being able to give life (3:21), and as being a temporary custodian (3:22-25). lt is a brave new interpretation of the text, one which presupposes that Paul is able to detect its deeper meaning in the light of the eschatological Christ-event.
Eschatological Traditions behind Gal 3:13-14 The interpretation of Paul's argument in 3:13 has been one ofthe most discussed topics in New Testament scholarship. T. L. Donaldson proposed that one should read the argument against the background of Jewish texts which treat the eschatological inclusion of the Gentiles (99-100, 105-6). A rhetorical analysis of the argument supports his proposal. J ewish tradition has discussed some important ambiguities in Deut 21:23: We find different opinions whether or not the curse refers to blasphemy, and whether it can refer to crucifixion. 23 We, therefore, have reason to expect that Paul also treats the verse according to Ambiguity, and that his changes in the text may indicate clearly his way of arguing. He changes the LXX text in three ways: lt is a mixed citation where Paul omits the reference to God and adds an article (Koch:124-25, 132, 165-66, 187): Gal3:13: Deut 21:23: Deut 27:26:
87rLK0!7CtP0!70C; 7rCXC; 0 KP8IlCtIl8VOC; 87rL ~u)..ou K8K0!7TfPO!IlBVOC; U7rO ()80U 7rCXC; KP8IlCtIl8VOC; 87rL ~u)..ou 87rLK0!7CtP0!70C; 7rCXC; • • • •
The addition of the article is probably stylistic (Koch: 132). More important is the omission of the reference to a curse by God (V7rO Beou). Thus Paul seems to treat Deut 21 :23 as a Scriptural curse, but not as denoting Christ as cursed and rejected by God. This seems to incorporate a possibility that Christ is both cursed according to Deut 21 :23 and that this curse corresponds to the will of GOd. 24 The most important change, however, is that Paul, by taking up the formula B7rLKCXTf.!J.PCXTOC;; 7r&C;;, has mixed the citation with Deut 27:26. 25 This connection indicates that Paul again is .working 22Cf. the treatment of Jer 4:2; Ps 72:17; Sir 44:21 Tob 13:12; Jub. 25:22; 31:20; T. Levi 4:6; Migr. 111, 122 and Mos. 1:291 by Philo in Morland:sees. 5.2.2 - 5.2.3. 23Cf. Wileox:86-90 who treats the ambiguities of C'i1?N n??p and ',?n. Bernstein treats the first of them in a more extensive way. Cf. also Philo who in Post. 23-27 reads the eurse together with Deut 28:66. 24Although they differ in their inferenees, seholars eommonly observe that this omission makes Deut 21:23 ehristologieally applieable for Paul, cf. Sieffert:161; Mussner:233; Rohde:144; Koch: 124-25. 25Cf. Baasland:144-45 who also emphasizes that 3:13 is turned into a general eurse and contrasted with 3:10.
'rrli
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within the topic of the Intention of the framer of the law, where he reads together passages from the whole document in order to find its true meaning. Paul finds the intention by interpreting Deut 21:23 in light of Deut 27-30. Such a connection is not surprising in the context: This tradition has just been brought to mind in 3: 8-10, and it is therefore natural for Paul to allude to it again. The logic becomes easier to grasp when we recall that Deut 27-30 not only contains curse and blessing in antithesis, but also in a historical sequence. Because of its disobedience, the Jewish nation will experience a period of curse be fore a conversion to the law will bring the blessing in the new era of restoration, cf. Deut 29:22 - 30: 10. This sequence of sin-curseconversion-blessing is often recalled in J ewish texts. Most important for our purpose are those texts we mentioned above which also contain the antithesis, cf. Jer 24; Mal 3:6-12; Jub. 1; 23:16-32; 1 Enoch 93:1-10; 91:11-17; T. Naph. 3-4; T. Levi 14-18; Philo Praem. 79-172 (see also Dan 9 and Bar 13; Morland:33-50). It is easy to reconstruct a syllogism with an omitted General premise to understand the logic implied (cf. Morland:219 for a formally more correct syllogism): (General premise: Specijic premise: Conclusion:
After the period of curse, the blessing will come [in Paul: Not on the penitent nation, but rather on those who have faith]). Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us (3:13). Therefore in Christ the blessing might come upon those who have faith (3:14).
This syllogism is a hypothetical reconstruction of Paul's logic. I do not claim that 3:13-14 formally contains such a syllogism. Instead, I contend that Paul' sexpressions in the text recall this general background as apremise for his audience. It is the omitted General premise that makes the whole logic understandable. This historical sequence of curse and blessing in 3:13-14 is a christianized version of the sin-curse-conversion-blessing pattern. Paulcan omit it because it is weIl known, and because he has alluded to the deuteronomistic tradition in 3:8-10. The Specific premise is the critical point of the logic: It is disputable whether Christ should become the turning point of the ages. This is why Paul has to prove it by means of a Hebrew Bible citation. The Conclusion corresponds exactly to the content of 3:14. It is divided into two Lva-clauses, which function not only as a conclusion to the syllogistic logic of 3:13-14, but also as a conclusion to the whole discussion 3:1-14.
MORLAND: EXPANSION AND CONFLICT 265 Thus 3: 13 should be read as a Specific premise within a christianized version of deuteronomistic, eschatological traditions. Paul proves that Christ has become the turning point of the ages by a reference to the Ambiguity of Deut 21 :23: This curse has been understood as a Cllrse on criminals, but Paul has now discovered its deeper meaning. God has laid it down in the Scripture, not for the purpose of cursing criminals, but with the intention of preaching Christ be forehand (cf. the expression above in Gal 3:8). Thus Deut 21 :23 is a hidden prophecy in Scripture about the way in which Christ would redeem from the curse and inaugurate the new era. 26 Deut 21 :23 suits such a purpose very weIl: It is the only law in the deuteronomic law-corpus which has a curse as a sanction. It may thus easily be drawn together with the curses of Deut 27. It is also the only deuteronomic law that denotes individual persons as cursed in a metonymic way. It may thus easily be drawn together with the frequent metonymic expressions of Israel as cursed in the Deut 27 -30-tradition. When we turn to the reconstruction of the opponents' position, it is important to note that it is the specific premise about the role of Christ that is proven by a Hebrew Bible citation. It is thus this part of the argument which is crucial: They represent a position that takes over Jewish eschatological expectations without putting Christ in a vital position. We cannot reconstruct how they perceived the relevance of the work of Christ, but they do not perceive hirn as the turning point of the ag es in that he makes faith a principle that rules out the necessity of conversion toward the law. It is most natural once again to imply a typical Jewish position, claiming conversion and obedience toward the law as the important factor. 27
Conclusions This article demonstrates the fruitfulness of using rhetorical status legales to interpret Hebrew Bible citati·ons. It is my conviction that it will prove itself fruitful also for other parts of the New Testament. Not only does it help to 26Cf. van Unnik:489-98 for a similar herrneneutical principle in Justin when he interprets Deut 21: 23. 27In an essay in this volume (as weil as in her response to my essay at the Trondheim Symposium), P. Fredriksen claims that it is a category error to speak of conversion to the law for Gentiles in the new era. According to her reading of Jewish sources, the Gentiles will then rather be inc1uded as Gentiles. This may be the case in some Jewish circles, which again may have influenced the position of Paul. The opponents, however, can claim such obedience in agreement with other irnportant strearns of Jewish theology, cf. the essay of P. Borgen in this volume.
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uncover the implied logic of the argument itself, but it is also important as a third source when we try to "mirror-read" the position of the opponents retlected in the argument of Galatians. It is, however, important to note two restrietions in this approach with regard to "mirror-reading": In the first place the method can only give us a pieture of Paul's implied opponents. We have access only to the picture of the opponents as they are. presented in the text. We cannot be sure that it conforms with the positions of the re.al opponents. In Gal 3:15-25 we found that the implied opponents emphasize·the Sinai covenant with its claim tor obedience. In Gal 3:8-14 we found that they stick to curse and blessing in anti thesis as in Deut 27-30, that they stick to Lev 18:5 as a basic principle for obedience, and that they stick to Jewish expectations of the turn of the era which claims the necessity of conversion to the law. We also argued on a micro-Ievel that they understand Gen 12:3; Deut 27:26; and Hab 2:4 as implying obedience, not as preaching a competing principle of faith. Since it seems clear from 5: 2-3 and 6: 12-13 that the realopponents tried to persuade the Galatian Gentile Christi ans to circumcise, all these additional features seem to be historically accurate of Paul's real opponents. We cannot claim that they actually cited and interpreted these verses; we can only assume that Paul incorporates their position in his discussions. Secondly, the method only gives us access to general elements of the contlict. We may safely assume that the contlict in Galatia had additional aspects which will never be known. They cannot be reconstructed from the argument of Gal 3, and any attempt to do it from other parts of the letter will be extremely conjectural. They are hidden in the untraceable darkness of history, and we must realize that fact. For our purpose, however, these general aspects of the contlict are of extreme interest. The peculiar parts of the Galatian contlict may not be possible to generalize for a picture of conquest, contlict, and proselytism in the early church. It is far more interesting, however, that Paul finds it suitable to discuss the contlict at this general level. Gal 3 is thus an illuminating exampIe of a contlict which was typical of that period: a) It was a contlict of Gentile converts where Jewish Christi ans differed considerably in their approach: The focal point of contlict concerned the role of the J ewish law. b) It was a contlict of the interpretation of the Hebrew Bible as the main authority, which involved conventional patterns of persuasion. c) It was especially a conflict of the interpretation of Jewish eschatological traditions, which depicted Abraham as a prototype for conversion and which emphasized conversion also in the sin-curse-conversion-blessing patter~ from Deuteronomy. It was important for Paul to present Abraham as a
MORLAND: EXPANSION AND CONFLICT 267 prototype of faith, and to demonstrate that the death of Christ made conversion to the mosaic law superfluous at the turning point of the ages. d) It was also a contlict of how to perceive the work of Christ. Should the effects of his death and resurrection be harmonized with a Jewish concern for the Law and national identity? Or should it rather be taken as a decisive turning point which throws new light on the text of the Scripture in a way that causes a deeper understanding of the Intention of its framer? An important contribution ot this Galatian controversy is that Paul's letter demonstrates how serious the debate was: a) It was so important that Paul found it necessary to apply Hellenistic status legales in his argument. Thus it involved accepted rules of that culture and, more importantly, was given an unmistakable tlavor of a lawsuit. b) Further , the various changes Paul makes in the LXX quotations demonstrate that this serious involvement with the Scripture was carried out in detail. c) Lastly, Gal 1: 8-9 (and 3: 10) demonstrates that Paul regarded this conflict as so severe that he could even curse his opponents (Morland: 139179). There is no compromise; the Galatians have to choose one position and reject the other. It demonstrates that the contlict involved more than strategie considerations about how to re ach the Gentiles and at the same time uphold good relations with the Synagogue. According to Paul it involved nothing more than the question of how to be "straightforward about the truth of the gospel" (Gal 2:14a). To reject Paul's position is - according to hirn - to turn to a different gospel which "pervert[s] the gospel of Christ" (Ga11 :7).
Works Consulted Rhetorical Handbooks Consulted: ad Herenn.: (Cicero) ad C. Herennium. LCL 403. Ed. Harry Caplan. Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London: Heinemann 19896 • Cic. Inv.: Cicero: De Inventione. LCL 386. Ed. H. M. Hubbell. In the volume with De Optimo Genere Oratorum, Topica. London: Heinemann - Cambridge: Harvard University Press 19764 . Hermog. Stat.: "EPMOrENOT:E TEXNH:E PHTOPIKH:E. IIEPI TON :ETA:EEON." pp. 28-92 in Hemwgenes. Opera. Rhetores Graeci VI. Ed. Hugo Rabe. Leipzig: Teubner 1913. Ray Nadeau: "Hermogenes' On Stases: A Translation with an Introduction and Notes. " Speech Monographs 31 :361-424.
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Secondary Literature:
MORLAND: EXPANSION AND CONFLICT 269 1988
Baasland, Ernst 1984 "Persecution: A Neglected Feature in the Letter to the Galatians." ST 38:135-50. Barday, John M. G. 1987 "Mirror-Reading a Polemical Letter: Galatians as a Test Case." lSNT 31:73-93. Berger, Klaus 1980 "Die impliziten Gegner. Zur Methode des Erschliessens von 'Gegnern' in neutestamentlichen Texten." pp. 373-400 in FS G. Bornkamm: Kirche. Tübingen: Mohr. TRE 1:372-82, art. "Abraham ll. Im Fruhjudentum und Neuen Testament." Bernstein, Moshe J. ""'7il C'il7N n77i' '::J' (Deut 21 :23): A Study in Early Jewish Exegesis. " 1983 lQR 74:21-45.
The Cross and the Spirit. A Study in the Argument and Theology Galatians. Macon: Mercer.
0/
Dahl, Nils A. 1977 "Contradictions in Scripture. " pp. 159-77 in Studies in Paul. Minneapolis: Augsburg (also avaliable: "Widerspruche in der Bibel, ein altes hermeneu tisches Problem." ST 25: 1-19). Daube, David "Rabbinic Methods of Interpretation and Hellenistie Rhetoric." HUCA 1949 22:239-64. Donaldson, T. L. 1986 "The 'Curse of the Law' and the Inc1usion of the·Gentiles: Galatians 3:1314." NTS 32:94-112. Ebeling, Gerhard 1981 Die Wahrheit des Evangeliums. Eine Lesehilfe zum Galaterbrief Tübingen: MohriSiebeck (also available: The Truth 0/ the Gospel. An Exposition 0/ Galatians. Philadelphia: Fortress 1985).
Betz, Hans D. 1979
Bligh, John 1969
Galatians. A Commentary on Paul's Letter to the Churches in Galatia. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress. Galatians. A Discussion 1. London: St. Paul.
Eckert, Jost 1971
0/ St. Paul's Epistle. Householder Commentaries
Die urchristliche Verkündigung im Streit zwischen Paulus und seinen Gegnern nach dem Galaterbrief. Biblische Untersuchungen 6. Regensburg: Pustet.
Ellis, E. Earle 1981
Paul's Use o/the Old Testament. 1957.
Grand Rapids: Baker. Orig. pub.
Borgen, Peder 1983 "The Early Church and the Hellenistic Synagogue." ST 37:55-78 (also available pp. 75-97 in Paul Preaches Circumcision and Pleases Men. Relieff 8. Trondheim: Tapir, 1983 and pp. 207-32 in Phi/o, lohn and Paul. New Perspectives on ludaism and Early Christianity. Brown Judaie Studies 131. Atlanta: Scholars, 1987).
Fitzmyer, Joseph A. 1981 "Habakkuk 2:3-4 and the New Testament." pp. 447-55 in FS Henri Cazelles: De la Torah au Messie. Ed. Mauriee Carrez, J. Dore, P. Grelot. Paris: Desc1ee.
Brinsmead, Bernhard H. 1982 Galatians - Dialogical Response to Opponents. SBLDS 65. Chico: Scholars.
Hansen, G. Walter 1989 Abraham in Galatians. Epistolary and Rhetorical Contexts. JSNTSup 29. Sheffield: Sheffield Academie.
Bruce, Frederick F. 1982 The Epistle 0/ Paul to the Galatians. A Commentary on the Greek Text. The New International Greek Testament Commentary. Exeter: Paternoster.
Hanson, Anthony T. 1974 Studies in Paul's Technique and Theology. London: SPCK.
Burton, Ernest de Witt 1980 A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on The Epistle to the Galatians. ICC 35. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. Orig. pub. 1920. Cosgrove, Charles H. 1978 "The Mosaic Law Preaches Faith: A Study in Galatians 3." WTl 41 :14664.
Hartman, Lars 1980 "Bundesideologie in und hinter einigen paulinischen Texten." pp. 10~-18 in Die Paulinische Literatur und Theologie. Teologiske studier 7. Ed. Sigfred Pedersen. Ärhus: Aros; Göttingen; Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Hays, Richard B. 1983 The Faith 0/ lesus Christ. An lnvestigation o/the Narrative Substructure 0/ Galatians 3:1 - 4:11. SBLDS 56. Chicago: Scholars.
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Hengel, Martin 1991 The Pre-Christian Paul. London, New York: SCM. Hübner, Hans 1984
Law in Paul's Thought. Studies ofthe New Testament and Its World. Edinburgh: T. & T. C1ark (cf also Das Gesetz bei Paulus: Ein Beitrag zum Werden der paulinischen Theologie. FRLANT 119. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 1978) ..
Koch, Dietrich-Alex 1986 Die Schrift als Zeuge des Evangeliums: Untersuchungen zur Verwendung und zum Verständnis der Schrift bei Paulus. BHT 69. Tübingen: MohrlSiebeck. Lührmann, Dieter 1978 Der Brief an die Galater. Zürcher Bibelkommentare NT 7. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag. Mack, Burton L. and Vernon K. Robbins 1989 Patterns of Persuasion in the Gospels. Foundations and Facets. Literary Facets. Sonoma, CA: Polebridge. McEleney, N eil J. 1974 "Conversion, Circumcision and the Law." NTS 20:319-41. Martin, Josef 1974
Antike Rhetorik. Technik und Methode. Handbuch der Altertumswissenschaft 2.3. München: Beck.
Mayer, Günter RAC 6:1194-1211, art. "Exegese TI (Judentum)." Morland, Kjell A. 1995 The Rhetoric of Curse in Galatians: Paul Confronts Another Gospel. Emory Studies in Early Christianity 5. Atlanta: Scholars Press. ,I i
Mussner, Franz 1974 Der Galaterbrief HTKNT IX. Freiburg-Base1-Wien: Herder.
MORLAND: EXPANSION AND CONFLICT 271 Schlier, Heinrich 1965 Der Brief an die Galater. Kritisch-Exegetischer Kommentar über das NT 7. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht 196513 (4. durchgesehene Aufl. der Neuarbeitung). Schoeps, Hans J. 1961 Paul: The Theology ofthe Apostle in the Light of Jewish Religious History. Trans. H. Knight. Philadelphia: Westminster. Sieffert, Friedrich 1880 Der Brief an die Galater. Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar über das Neue Testament 7. Göttingen: Vandenboeck & Ruprecht. Siegert, Fo1ker 1985 Argumentation bei Paulus, gezeigt an Röm 9-11. WUNT 34. Tübingen: Mohr. Stanley, Christopher D. 1990 '''Under a Curse': A fresh reading of Galatians 3.10-14." NTS 36:481511. Strack, Hermann L. and Günter Stemberger 1982 Einleitung in Talmud und Midrasch. Beck'sche Elementarbücher. Seventh edition, new1y revised. München: Beck. Thuruthumaly, Joseph 1981 Blessing in St Paul (Eulogein in St Paul). Pontifical Institute Publications 35. Kerala: Pontifical Institute of Theo1ogy and Philosophy. van Unnik, Willem C. 1979 "Der Fluch der Gekreuzigten. Deuteronomium 21,23 in der Deutung Justinus des Märtyrers." pp. 483-99 in FS E. Dinkler: Theologia Cruds - Signum Cruds. Ed. Car1 Andresen, G. Klein. Tübingen: MohrlSiebeck. Vos, J. S. 1992
"Die hermeneutische Antinomie bei Pau1us (Galater 3.11-12; Römer 10.510)." NTS 38:254-70.
Oepke, Albrecht and Joachim Rohde. 1973 Der Brief des Paulus an die Galater. THKNT IX. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt 19733 (veränderte und erweiterte Aufl.).
Wieser, Friedrich E. 1987 Die Abrahamvorstellungen im Neuen Testament. Europäische Hochschulschriften 23; 317. Bern: Lang.
Reicke, Bo 1985
Wilcox, Max 1977 "'Upon the Tree' - Deut 21,22-23 in The New Testament." JBL 96:8599.
"Paulus über das Gesetz." 12 41: 237 - 57.
Rohde, Joachirn 1989 Der Brief des Paulus an die Galater. THKNT IX. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt.
CHAYfERll PHASES IN THE SOCIAL FORMATION OF EARLY CHRISTlANITY: FROM FACTION TO SECT - A SOCIAL SCIENTIFIC PERSPECTIVE lohn H. Elliott University 0/ San Francisco
Introduction There is still no scholarly consensus on how to categorize and scientifically analyze the first-century group centered in Jesus of Nazareth. Specific emic self.:-designations in the early Christian texts ("way," "brotherhood," BKKArWLO! etc. [Cadbury 1979]) provide, from a social-scientific view, little indication of its actual social features and strategies. The contemporary use of such designations as "movement," "sect," "party," "interest group," "faction," "organization," and "community" generally is unaccompanied by satisfactory consideration of the sociological implications of these various etic designations or models. The aim of this study is to bring a more systematic social-scientific perspective to bear on this yet open question. Attention will be directed to two sociological models which appear to hold si gnificant promise for conceptualizing and analyzing in systematic fashion the earliest social phases of early Christianity and accompanying features of its organization and program, strategies, and religious ideology. The first such model is that of "sect," traceable to the influence of the work of Max Weber and Ernst Troeltsch. The commencement of a socialscientific study of Christianity in general is signalled by the collaborative work of these two pioneers. Both scholars, in differing ways, called attention to sectarian features of Christianity (for Troeltsch, beginning in the Middle Ages) and post-exilic Judaism (Weber). Therefore, we will begin with a brief review of their work on the sect and then consider subsequent refinements made by later social-scientific studies of the sectarian phenomenon. The second model for attention will be that of the "faction," as discussed recently by Bruce Malina and Torrey Seland. Following·a discussion of this model, I shall propose that in fact both models are indeed apposite and useful for analyzing early Christianity, but for differing stages of its social development. Thus I shall argue that the Jesus movement is best viewed as initially a
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J ewish faction which under changing social conditions eventually transformed into a deviant Jewish sect. Social science research on factions and sects will be used to delineate the typical conditions, features, and strategies of both types of social formation and to trace the shift of the J esus group from faction to sect. A final portion of the paper will present the distinguishing characteristics of early Christianity (in its second phase) as a sect as indicated by the New Testament evidence. This discussion of the salient features and st~ategies of Christianity as first Jewish faction and then J ewish sect attempts to demonstrate the methodological utility of both models for analyzing and understanding the history , social form, and ideology of early Christianity and its relation to Judaism and Greco-Roman society.
The Term/Concept "Sect" and its Social-Scientific Refinement Since nascent Christianity has most frequently been identified in the modern exegetieal and historieal literature as a J ewish sect, it seems appropriate to begin our reflections with abrief overview of this classification. The English word "sect" derives from the Latin secta (past part. of seco; "to cut, cut off, cut up; divide; cleave, separate"; or "to take's one way" [secare viam]). Thus, according to Lewis and Short (A Latin Dictionary s. v.), in Roman antiquity the noun secta could be used in the literal sense of "a trodden or beaten way, a path, footsteps" or in the figurative sense of "a (prescribed) way, mode, manner, method, principles of conduct or procedure." Most frequently it occurs in the phrase sectam (alicuius) sequi (persequi etc.) in the sense "to follow in the footsteps of (anyone)" ; hence also sectam (alicuius) secuti "a party, faction, sect." In the Augustan period, secta frequently designates "a mode of life." In the post-Augustan age, it was used frequently in reference to (philosophie) "doctrines, school, sect" (syn.: schola, disciplina) , similar to its Greek equivalent ciCpeau; (Schlier 1964:180-81). Quintillian (5.7.35) speaks of the "sect of Epicurus"; and Tacitus of the "Cynic sect" (Annals 14.57) or "Stoic sect" (History 4.40). The term also could designate a school of medicine such as the sect of Hippocrates or Aesclepiades (Seneca, Epistle 95.9). Secta was used similarly to designate the early Christian movement as weIl. Thus Jerome renders the Greek 'Tf1~ 7WV Natwpaiwv aLpiaew~ (Acts 24:5), "the sect of the Nazarenes" (RSV) , as sectae Nazarenorum, thereby . illustrating the equivalence of Ci.'{peaL~ and secta. In the New Testament, Ci.'{peaL~ (from aLpioJ.LaL, "to choose"; hence a course of thought or action; a system .of philosophie principles or those who profess such principles, sect,
EILI01T: FROM FACTION TO SECT 275 school; faction, party [LSJ]) designates various groups within Judaism such as the a'{peaL~ of the Sadducees (Acts 5:17; cf. also Josephus, J. W. 2.8.1); the Ci.rpeaL~ of the Pharisees (Acts 15:5; cf. also Josephus, J. W. 2.8.1); and the Ci.rpeaL~ of the Nazarenes, the followers of Jesus (Acts 24:5, 14; 28:22) - in each case as a neutral, socially descriptive term lacking pejorative connotation. In 1 Cor 11:19, Gal 5:20, 2 Pet 2:1, on the other hand, a'{peaL~ designates factious or divisive groups within the community (cf. also aLpe7LK6~, Tit. 3:10). In the post-New Testament period, a'{peaL~ (aLpe7LK6~) came to be used in sensu malo' as "an eschatologically threatening magnitude [read: entity] essentially opposed to the BKK'Arwia" (Schlier 1964:183; e.g., Ignatius, Eph 6:2; TraU. 6:1; Justin, Dial. 51 :2); that is, in the sense of "heretical" groups such as the Gnostics (Schlier 1964:183-84) seen to represent unorthodox beliefs and behavior. Such linguistic considerations, however, do not lead us further toward a clarification of the social dimensions of the phenomena designated a'{peaL~ or secta. For this we must turn to the work ofTroeltsch and Weber.
Troeltsch and Weber on Sects Early in the twentieth century, two German scholars and personal friends, Max Weber and Ernst Troeltsch, laid the groundwork for studying the history of Judaism and Christianity along more sociologically refined lines. Both found in the concept "sect" a useful category for identifying and analyzing distinctive features of the social and religious organization and ideology of phases of Judaism and Christianity. In his pioneering study of 1911, Die Soziallehren der christlichen Kirchen und Gruppen, Troeltsch explored "the intrinsic sociologieal idea of Christianity, and its structure and organization" and its relation to the social order (citations are of the ET, 1960, 1:34). In the course of this historical and sociological inquiry, he concluded that under changing social conditions Christianity variously assumed distinct forms of organization which he designated as "church," "sect," and "mysticism." At the very beginning, Troeltsch proposed, "the Gospel of J esus was a free personal piety, with a strong impulse towards profound intimacy and spiritual fellowship and communion, but without any tendency towards community. Only when faith in Jesus, the Risen and Exalted Lord, became the central point of worship in a new religious community did the necessity for organization arise" (1960 2:993). From that point onward, however, he suggested that there were "three main types of the sociological development of Christi an thought: the Church, the sect, and mysticism" (19602:993).
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The Church he defined as "an institution which has been endowed with grace and salvation as the result of the. work of Redemption; because, to a certain extent, it can afford to ignore the need for subjective holiness for the sake of the objective treasures of grace and of redemption" (1960 2:993). The sect and mysticism, he indicated, are to be seen as types of thought and piety in contrast to the Church as institution. The sect he defined as "a voluntary society, composed of strict and definite Christian believers bound to each other by the fact that all have experienced 'the new birth.' These 'believers' live apart from the world, are limited to small groups, emphasize the law instead of grace, and in varying degrees within their own circle set up the Christi an order based on love; and all this is done in preparation for and expectation of the coming Kingdom of God" (19602:993). Finally, according to Troeltsch, the phenomenon of mysticism arises when "the world of ideas ... had hardened into formal worship and doctrine is transformed into a purely personal and inward experience; this leads to the formation of groups on a purely personal basis, with no permanent form, which also tend to weaken the significance of forms of worship, doctrine, and the historical element" (1960 2:993). He then summarizes the manner in which the earliest "doctrine of Christ" was interpreted differently in the church, the sects, and mysticism. Conceming the sect he observes that "the Christ of the sect is the Lord, the example and lawgiver of Divine authority and dignity, who allows His elect to pass through contempt and misery on their earthly pilgrimmage, but who will complete the real work of Redemption at His Return, when He will establish the Kingdom of God . . . . In the sect Jesus is still the Herald of the Kingdom of God which he ushers in Himself' and the sect "is inclined to Chiliasm" ... it "believes that real redemption lies in the Advent of Christ and the establishment of the Kingdom" and that "the whole previous process of his tory was a mere preparation for this consummation" (1960 2:994-95). Moreover, "the sect, which belongs essentially to the lower classes, and which therefore does not need to come to terms with thought in general, goes back to the pre-Church and pre-scientific standpoint, and has no theology at all; it possesses only a strict ethic, a loving Mythos, and a passionate hope for the future" (19602:996). Many features of Troeltsch' s description of sect seem to characterize the outset of the Christian movement, but he strangely insists that earliest Christianity was not a sect and that "the rise of Christianity is a religious and not a social phenomenon" only indirectly affected by social forces such as "the destruction of the popular religions" and the development of "a new and powerful religious movement" in the Greco-Roman world (1960 1 :43).
EILIOIT: FROM FACTION TO SECT 277 Sectarianism, for Troeltsch, was only a type of Christianity which emerged in contrast and opposition to the church as established institution (see Rudolf 1979a:246 for a table comparing Troeltsch's features of church and sect). He only begins to speak of sectarian formations in connection with his treatment of the medieval Church (1960 1 :328-82). Troeltsch could not envision the historicalor social possibility that Christianity was a sect from the outset because his theory and model (a sect emerges in opposition to an established church) did not permit it. He viewed sectarianism as an exclusively Christian phenomenon; it could take shape only within and in reaction to the church as institution. Ac;:cordingly, for Troeltsch, Christianity as a sect of Judaism did not enter the picture. Troeltsch had adopted the sect concept from Max Weber who, already in his epoch-making study, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit ~f Capitalism first published in 1904-05 (ET:1955), had employed the concept to discuss the sectarian features of the Baptist, Mennonite, and Quaker movements of sixteenth and seventeenth century Europe· as an instance of Protestant asceticism (1955:144-54). Troeltsch, Weber noted (1955:255), had accepted Weber's concept of sect and had discussed it in more detail in his (Troeltsch's) The Social Teaching ofthe Christian Churches. On the one hand, Weber, like Troeltsch, operated with a church/sect distinction (1922; ET 1978:56, 476, 1164; 1955: 144-53) and likewise stressed the sect's character as "a voluntary association [which] admits only persons with specific religious qualifications" (1978:56). On the other hand, however, he also conceived the concept of sect more broadly than Troeltsch and discussed the origin of Christianity within the social structures and sectarian movements of second Temple Judaism. In his Ancient Judaism (191719; ET:1952; see also The Sociology of Religion 1964:270-74), he analyzed various Jewish "sects and cults of the post-exile period" (ET 1952:385-404) and then the relations of Christianity and Jewish sects in Palestine and the Diaspora (ET 1952:404-24). Weber saw in both the Pharisees and the Essenes typical sectarian concerns for social exclusiveness, moral rigor, and ritual purity, and he noted the similarities between these groups and the followers of Jesus. Despite the criticisms justly directed at the sectarian typologies of both Troeltsch and Weber (Berger 1954, 1958-59; Yinger 1970:251-81 and literature on pp. 280-81; Wilson 1973:11-16; Swatos 1976), both scholars have made an indispensable contribution to the sociological study of the Church and Judaism in all their various his toric al phases. Their work on the phenomenon of sectarianism has been taken up and refined by a host of sociologists (H. R. Niebuhr 1929; E. T. Clark 1937; R. A. Nisbet 1953; W. Stark 1967; T. F. O'Dea 1968; G. Schwartz 1970; B. R. Wilson 1959, 1961,
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1967, 1970, 1973, 1982, 1988; Hill 1987). Their influence, moreover, has also extended to biblical his tori ans and exegetes, particularly in regard to the study of the features and formations .of second Temple Judaism and early Christianity. As an admitted oversimplification, one might say that Troeltsch provided scholars with some of the essential features of a -sect (leaving aside for the moment the question of the church/sect symbiosis), and Weber illustrated and analyzed these features with regard to specific historical instances in postexilic Judaism, Christianity, and other cultures. The' exclusive relation Troeltsch assumed between sect and church, and hence his conception of sect as an exclusively Christi an phenomenon, has posed a problem which in time required and received attention, as we shall see shortly.
The J esus Movement as a J ewish Messianic Sect
I~
As historians and exegetes have come to recognize the social and ideological pluralism which prevailed in post-exilic Judaism, they have found the category "sect" a useful one for identifying, if not sociologically analyzing, various groups within Judaism, inc1uding the Jesus movement. On the whole, the designation is most often used in a sociologically undifferentiated sense to designate a distinctive group or "party" within Second Temple Judaism or early Christianity (e.g., Smith 1956; Simon 1967; Danielou 1969; Meeks 1972; Rudolf 1979b; Markus 1980; Rowland 1985). Used in this sense, the term sect implies neither the distinctive features of a sect as identified by Troeltsch and his successors nor, of course, his notion of the sect as a counterpart to institutional church. In the mid 1970s, however, Robin Scroggs (1975) published an essay on "The Earliest Christi an Communities as Sectarian Movement" which directed sociological attention to specific sectarian features of early Christianity and to the way these features illuminated aspects of the life and thought of nascent Christianity. Comparing data from the Synoptics and Acts with seven distinctive features of an ideal sect type identified by sociologist Werner Stark (1967), Scroggs concluded "that the community called into existence by Jesus fulfills the essential characteristics of the religious sect, as defined by recent sociological analysis" (1975:2). Like a sect, the Jesus movement in Palestine (1) emerged out of protest; (2) rejected the view of reality c1aimed or taken for granted by the establishment; (3) was egalitarian; (4) offered to its adherents love and acceptance with~n the community; (5) was a voluntary organization; (6) commanded and demanded total commitment from its members; and (7) like some sects, it was adventist (apocalyptic) in its temporal
ELLI01T: FROM FACTION TO SECT 279 orientation. These features, while in part reminiscent of Troeltsch's categories, involve social as well as conceptual aspects of Christianity as a sectarian phenomenon. The profit from studying earliest Christianity as a sectarian phenomenon, Scroggs insightfully observed, is that it provides "a basically different gestalt from which to view the data" (1975:21). Attention is directed not simply to the theology of J esus and his followers but to the correlation of th~ological thought and social predicament: to the movement's origin as a protest agai!lst economic and culfural alienation, its rejection of the dominant view of reality represented by the establishment and its ensuing suffering, its conflict with other groups, its attractiveness to the marginalized, its ethos of love and demand for total commitment, and its focus on the death of J esus as symbol ofprotest and liberation (1975:9-23). Scrogg's essay, in turn, in combination with several studies of sociologist Bryan R. Wilson (1959, 1961, 1970, 1973), provided a basis and a model for my examination of 1 Peter as the communication of a sectarian form of messianic Judaism. In A Homefor the Homeless (1981/1990:73-84, 101-64), I attempted to show how in 1 Peter the perceptions of the social situation and the strategy of its response conformed to those of a "conversionist" sect, as identified by Wilson (1973). Analyzing the letter as the composition of such a sect which espoused a conversionist response to the world provided an understanding of the community's ambivalent tension with society (critical of non-Christians yet seeking their conversion) and of the letter's stress on Christianity's distinctive communal identity, cohesion, and exc1usive commitment to God, Christ, and one anotlier. Subsequent exegetical analyses along social-scientific !ines followed my use of Wilson's work and applied his model to the interpretation of various New Testament writings. Philip Esler (1987), taking cues from A Home for the Homeless (1981) and Wilson 's work (1973), analyzed the sectarian features and strategies evident in Luke-Acts. Wolfgang Stegemann in his 1991 study of this same twovolume work dismissed the utility of the sectarian model for interpreting this text (1991:21-26). Ironically, however, the data he collected concerning the situation of the lucan community provide a near c1assic example of a sect caught betwixt and between parent body and larger society, or in Stegemann's words "between the Synagogue and sec-ular authority." Francis Watson (1986) and Margaret Y. MacDonald (1988), however, employed the sectarian model profitably in their analyses of the Pauline and DeuteroPauline churches, respectively. And in briefer studies Thomas J ohnson (1986) and John Stanley (1986) discussed the sectarian feat~res of the communities of John and the Apocalypse of John, respectively (see also an earlier
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application of Wilson's typology by James A. Wilde [1978] to an analysis of the Gospel of Mark). For a eloser consideration of Wilson's work on sects and its utility for interpreters of early Christianity, let us turn at this point to a review of some of its key features. For with this research an important advance has been made beyond the limiting aspects of the former church-sect symbiosis postulated by Troeltsch. Consequently the concept sect becomes a more useful instrument for cross-cultural comparison and hence a more useful tool for New Testament critics.
Sectarianism in Social-Scientific and Cross-Cultural Research Bryan R. Wilson, one of the foremost authorities on the sociological study of sectarian phenomena, in a 1961 study of three modem sects, began with the following definition: The sect is a c1early defined community; it is of a size which permits only a minimal range of diversity of conduct; it seeks itself to rigidify a pattern of conduct and to make coherent its structure of values; it contends actively against every other organization of values and ideals, and against every other social context possible for its adherents, offering itself as an all-embracing, divinely prescribed society. The sect is not only an ideological unit, it is, to greater or lesser degree, a social unit, seeking to enforce behaviour on those who accept belief, and seeking every occasion to draw the faithful apart from the rest of society and into the company of each other ... the sect, as a protest group, has always developed its own distinctive ethic, belief and practices, against the background of the wider society; its own protest is conditioned by the economic, social, ideological and religious circumstances prevailing at the time of its emergence and development (1961:1).
In a later study of tribai and non-industrialized societies, Wilson (1973) extended his analysis and elassification of sects by calling extensive attention to "the principal criterion of elassification"; namely, the nature of a movement's "response to the world." Such a response to the world is manifested not only in particular doctrines and a sense of mission but also in "many relatively unfocused, unpurposive activities, ... lifestyle, association, and ideology" (1973:58). Tension with the world is a key factor here: "The sectarian movement always manifests some degree of tension with the world,. and it is the type of tension and the ways in which it is contained or maintained which are of particular importance" (1973:59). Classifying sectarian movements in terms of the nature of their responses to the world and their conceptions of evil and the human condition, he arrived at seven distinctive sectarian types: a conversionist response involving transformation of self; a revolutionist response involving anticipa-
ELLIOTT: FROM FACTION TO SECT 281 tion of the destruction of the evil world through supernatural agency; an introversion ist response involving individual and/or communal renunciation of and withdrawal from the world; a manipulationist response involving a transformation of means and techniques for acquiring scarce goods regarded as the saved condition; a thaumaturgical response to the world involving relief from evil through oraele, miraele, and magie; a reformist response to the world involving amendment of the social order according to supernationally-given insights; and a utopian response to the world involving replacement of social organization according to some divinely-given principIes (1973:2~-26). For students of ancient society, the significance of this way of conceptualizing and elassifying sects is that it advances beyond Troeltsch's exelusive linking of sect to church as a previously existing institution. Wilson's model rather directs primary attention to a movement's relation to the society in which it emerges, its assessment of life chances within that society, and the specific strategies of its response. Thus it is a cross-cultural model of the sectarian phenomenon which can be employed by students of ancient his tory as weIl. In my study of 1 Peter and the form of Christian community it presupposed, I found that the data of the letter conformed most elosely with Wilson's conversionist model (1981:76-78), as does much of the data of other New Testament writings (on Mark see J. A. Wilde 1978). More generally, this indicates that current social-scientific and cross-cultural study of sectarian movements in pre-industrial as weIl as industrial societies now offers a valuable body of research and set of models for analyzing the early Christi an movement as a sectarian phenomenon. Exegetes accustomed to paying primary or exelusive attention to the ideas, beliefs, and doctrines of groups are now conceding in growing number that beliefs are always rooted in and reflective of a concrete social reality. Thus if early Christianity is both similar and dissimilar to other J ewish "sects" or groups, this must be demonstrated and studied through attention to a wide variety of social as weIl as ideational factors. These inelude the social and economie conditions conducive to the emergence of sects; the specific features of the social body and culture within whieh sects emerge, its dominant institutions, cultural traditions, and points of social tension or internal contradietions; the specific forms sects might assurne, as determined by their perceptions of social tensions, the nature of the human condition, and their assessment of availability of access to scarce resources and the media of salvation; the nature of their response to the world as manifested in the values, norms, and goals they promote, the stance they assurne vis-a-vis their parent body, the worldview, ideas, and beliefs they hold; the ethic they enforce; the elasses of persons they admit to membership; the strategies they
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adopt for recruitment and growth; the communal identity and group boundaries they establish; the means they employ for insuring internal socia! commitment and cohesion; and the manner in which they interact with other groups within the parent body and the society as a whole.
AReturn to Studies
0/ Early Christianity
In the case of early Christianity, consideration of such factors is leading to a more accurate and comprehensive understanding of the' movement, the cor- r~lation of its patterns öf belief and behavlor, and its similarities with and differences from other J ewish interest groups and factions . Here we might mention the work of John Gager, Kingdom and Community (1975), and Gerd Theissen, Sociology 0/ Early Palestinian Christianity (1978). While neither explored the specifically sectarian character of the early Christian movement, both identify features of the movement consistent with initial stages of sect formation. Gager focused on its millennarian character and Theissen on the ecological, economic, social, and cultural factors bearing on its emergence, interrelation with other Jewish groups, its strategies, and its effect (see Elliott 1986a for a critique of Theissen and a clarification of models). Wayne Meeks has shown greater interest in the sectarian character of the early Christian movement, though likewise without appreciable use of comparative sectarian models. In addition to a study of the Fourth Gospel as the product of a sectadan community (1972), he also discussed sectarian aspects of the movement around Jesus (1986:99-108) and the communities of Paul (1983:74-192). In his most extensive comment on earliest ChristianitY as a "messianic sect" of Judaism (1986:98-99), he has noted: To call early Christianity a sect means that it was a deviant movement within a cohesive culture that was defined religiously (in our sense of the word). The Christian movement understood itself in terms of the great traditions of that locally dominant culture - both positively and negatively. It was 'sectarian' because the organizing center of the group's identity consisted in a constellation of beliefs and patterns of behavior that was not, as a whole, shared by other groups of Jews. It was those beliefs and that kind of behavior that determined who the Christians were, and not the great institutions of Israel - the Temple, priesthood, professional interpreters of scripture; even though the latter might be presupposed, and the attitudes toward them by various groups might vary. Thus the early believers in Jesus the Messiah have to be compared with other identifiable movements or sects of Jews, such as the Essenes, the Pharisees, and the Therapeutae. Like them, the Jesus movement presupposed the great traditions of Israel and many of the common interpretive procedures and institutions, yet it interpreted those traditions, used thos~ procedures, and responded to those institutions in deviant - sometimes radlcally deviant - ways. Like other Jewish sects, it drew the boundaries. of the sacred community differently and more narrowly than did the established leaders in Jerusalem.
ELLI01T: FROM FACTION TO SECT 283 Here two distinctive features of a sect are stressed; namely, its origin within and identification with a cohesive culture and its deviation from fundamental institutions and norms of that culture. In an earlier 1985 study Meeks had examined the Johannine group, Pauline Christi ans , and the Matthean community as "three New Testament pictures of Christianity' s separation from the J ewish communities." Since these earlier studies, examination of the messianic movement as a sectarian phenomenon have begun to proliferate (Stanley 1986; Esler 1987; MacDonald 1988; Rensberger 1988; Overman 1990). From all this recent exegetical focus on the sectarian character of early Christianity, particularly where exegesis has been informed by the social sciences, it is clear that significant progress has been made in clarifying the social issues which require attention in identifying the various social, economic, political, and cultural factors accompanying the origin of the Jesus movement, its characteristic perceptions of reality, its varying strategies for survival and growth, its stress on selfidentity, cohesion, and commitment, and its non-conformist ethos and ethic.
Sect or Faction? Recently, however, from two different quarters questions have been raised regarding the utility or accuracy of treating early Christianity in all its phases as a sect. On the one hand, Bengt Holmberg (1990), in an informed and insightful "appraisal" of the recent employment of the social sciences by New Testament scholars, has surveyed recent studies of early Christianity as a sect (1990:86-114). His conclusion is a mixed appraisal. Although he grants that certain studies (Scroggs, Elliott, R. Stark, Esler, Watson, and MacDonald) have demonstrated the explanatory power of the sect model, on the whole he concludes that the concept "sect" is not uniformly defined and all too frequently "has a very low degree of discriminatory power in the classification of different groups within early Christianity" (1990:112-14). Moreover, he claims that the analytical imperfections of the Troeltschian "church-sect typology," its historical and cultural limitation, and the inherent tendency to static reification of the typology make it "a rather doubtful instrument of analysis" (1990:112; 108-112). In this assessment, Holmberg, in my opinion, fails to acknowledge sufficiently how some of the scholars discussed have moved beyond the limits of the Troeltschian typology, especially through their preference for the models of Wilson. But I do concur with Holmberg's call for a more precise construction of the sect model and a more consistent application of this model in future exegesis along social scientific lines (1990:112, 114-17, 153-57).
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This, in fact, is one of the goals of this present chapter. A second objection to regarding early Christianity as a sectarian phenomenon is not unrelated to criticisms made by Holmberg but specifically concerns the apposite social scientific model for analyzing the social formation and strategies of the earliest phase of the Jesus movement. The issues raised in this case indicate that closer attention needs to be given to the different social forms the Christian movement assumed in different stages of its organization and development. Though the case for Christianity as a sect in some phase of its development is by no me ans invalidated, these objections do require that we reconsider the point at which the Christian movement assumed the specific form and features of a sect. Torrey Seland, in a Norwegian Festschrift honoring Peder Borgen (1987), has argued that the categories of sect, sectarian, sectarianism "are not functional for describing the characteristics of the group(s) associated with Jesus of Nazareth, and the groups supposed to be established by his core followers" (1987:197). Instead, he proposes that "the Jesus-groups as witnessed by the New Testament writings are rather to be categorized as coalitions; more precisely, coalitions of the sort called lactions" (1987: 197, emphasis added). With this thesis, Seland expands on the work of Bruce Malina with whom Seland studied during Malina' s teaching stint in Trondheim in 1986. Malina, in turn, in his analysis of the earliest phase of the Jesus movement, had utilized models of group formation derived from the research of anthropologist Jeremy Boissevain (1974). "The categories sect/sectarian/sectarianism," Seland argues, "have been developed in the Western world where politics and religion are separated" and thus exist and function as independent institutions of the social system as a whole. However, he continues, religion in the first century world, as Malina has noted (1988b:6), was firmly embedded in the two institutions of politics and kinship. Accordingly, "the category 'sect' cannot grasp the characteristics of the various groups of first century Judaism" (1987:198; cf. Malina 1988b:15). "The category 'sect, '" Seland claims, "may be fruitful for investigating Western religious life and structures of today," but "it is dysfunctional both for investigations of many non-Western societies of today and for studies of religion in the 1st century Mediterranean world" (1987:198). This conclusion, however, is premature. The concern for developing analytical categories appropriate to ancient society, of course, is weIl taken. Malina' s comparison and contrast of ancient Mediterranean society and modem Western industrialized society (1986) demonstrates persuasively that the Bible, to be accurately understood culturally as weIl as theologically, must be read in the light of the social and cultural scripts of ancient Mediter-
ELLIOTT: FROM FACTION TO SECT 285 ranean society rather than of those of a later age and distant place. Furthermore, he clearly shows how differently "religion" appears in ancient Mediterranean and Palt~stinian society, embedded as it was, rather than separated from, the institutions of politics and kinship. But Seland 's acquaintance with the full range of sect research appears minimal. The sectarian research to which he makes reference is one early article of Bryan Wilson' s summarizing aspects of the analysis of modem sect development (Wilson 1959). He seems unaware that Wilson's later study of tribal, non-industrial and non-Western societies has provided a cross-cultural model fqr circumventing the problem Seland has with modern sectarian research and models. Consequently, his claim that the sect constitutes an "anachronistic" model presupposing "the existence of adenomination as its counterpart" and "the existence of a kind of orthodoxy from which a sect, by definition, deviates" (1987:208) is itself anachronistically out of touch with current research and therefore unconvincing. This is not to suggest, however, that his analysis of Jesus as "faction leader" is not without importance or merit. This part of Seland's study, like that of Malina on the same topic (1988a, 1988b), retains its validity. In brief, both scholars cogently argue that the Jesus movement group, in its earliest phase, is most appropriately analyzed as a "coalition" and, more specifically, as a "faction" type of coalition within the body of Israel, alongside other Jewish coalitions such as those of the Pharisees and Herodians and the faction led by J ohn the Baptizer. The concepts of "coalition" and "faction" are derived from the anthropological research of Jeremy Boissevain (1974). In his study of Mediterranean collectivities and networks, Friends 01 Friends. Networks, Manipulators and Coalitions (1974), Boissevain defines a coalition as " a temporary alliance of distinct parties for a limited purpose" (1974:171; cf. Malina 1988a:29), "a collection of people within some larger, encapsulating structure consisting of distinct parties in temporary alliances for some limited purpose. " Coalitions emerge within, and distinguish themselves from, a "corporate group"; that is, "a corporate body with a permanent existence; a collection of people recruited on recognized principles, with common interests and rules (nonns) fixing rights and duties of the members in relation to one another and to these interests" (1974: 171). Coalitions are temporary, unstable alliances formed by individuals intent on attaining certain common goals. "The ad hoc nature of coalitions makes them ideally suited instruments to exploit new resources in changing situations. Coalitions may thus reflect changing circumstances, they may bring about change, and, by their very nature, are constantly subject to change. They may disappear as certain goals are achieved, or they may evolve into social forms of a different struc-
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tural order, such as more permanent association, often transforming their social and cultural environment in the process" (Boissevain 1974: 170). A faction, in turn, is one of several types of coalitions ineluding also gangs, eliques, and action-sets (cf. Boissevain 1974:170-205). It is "a coalition of persons (followers) recruited personally according to structurally diverse principles by or on behalf of a person in conflict with another person(s) with whom they [the coalition members] were formerly united over honour and/or control of resources" (Boissevain 1974: 192) and/or "truth" (Malina 1988a:24). The distinguishing feature of the faction is its central focus on "the person who has recruited it, who mayaiso be described as the leader" (Boissevain 1974:192). What unites a faction is the relation of each of its members individually to the faction leader. Recruitment occurs along personallines, involving kinship and neighborhood links: "sometimes some followers in their turn will also mobilize the support of members of their own networks. The links may thus range from single-stranded transactional relations, to many-stranded moral relations" (Boissevain 1974:192). The social relations wbich these categories of coalition and faction describe, Malina and Seland argue, demonstrate a elose fit with the New Testament data concerning the Jesus group and other riyal groups within firstcentury Palestinian Judaism. In first-century Palestine, they show, the nation of Israel rooted in Torah and Temple constituted the "corporate group" within which various Jewish coalitions and factions emerged. These coalitions formed over against the dominant Temple aristocracy and the control it elaimed and exerted over all aspects of the social, economic, and culturallife of Jewish Palestine. These coalitions, such as the Herodians, Pharisees, EsseneslQumranites, Jesus group, and John the Baptizer group, while constituting parts of the corporate group of Judaism and maintaining ideological allegiance to the dominant traditions and values of this society, organized in distinctive forms of temporary alliance in order to achieve specific and contrasting goals. The groups associated with J esus and J ohn in particular constituted factions, person-centered coalitions. As factions, their members were recruited personally by a core leader who assumed the role of patron or broker providing access to desired goods, services, or goals: access to healing, food, forgiveness, the favor of God the ultimate patron and benefactor. As factions they came into existence because of rivalry and competition with controlling elites and other Jewish coalitions and factions over honor and/or resources or access to the "truth" (Malina 1988a:25). As structurally simple and unstable entities, their duration was determined by the ability of the leader to fulfill the expectations of the members and by the degree of intensity of relations of the members to the leader and to one another. The size of these factions was
ELLIOTI': FROMFACTION TO SECT 287 limited by the personal links wbich the leader was able to maintain with all members of the faction. Given the central importance of Jesus and John as leaders and recruiters of their respective groups, it is more appropriate to regard these groups as factions rather than as mere moral collectivities or "movements. " Over time, some of these Jewish factions became permanent, competing structural units that were no longer leader-centered but group-centered (e.g., the John and Jesus groups [after the deaths of their leaders]). Malina discusses this group-centered phase of the J esus movement with reference to the book of Acts (1988a:27-29). On the whole, Malina and Seland have introduced new and more apposite models for analyzing the nature and strategies of Jewish groups in .first-century Palestine which have not separated from Judaism but wbich remain thoroughly embedded in J ewish society. In this context it now appears more productive to view diverse Palestinian J ewish groups prior to the death of Jesus as various types of coalitions (Herodians, Sadducees, Essenes, bandits) or factions (John the Baptiser faction; Jesus faction) rather than as "sects." For the category "sect," as I shall presently suggest, involves the element of social and ideological dissociation which is not typical of any of the Jewish coalitions of Jesus' lifetime. During this period, all conflicting Palestinian coalitions, ineluding the Jesus faction, remain inseparable parts of and ideologically bound to tbe eOvoc; of Israel. Though their specific group interests, goals, strategies, and ideologies vary in their rivalries with . one another, they nevertheless all remained social entities within, and not separated from, the corporate body of Israel. In tbis context Malina and Seland have made a cogent case for understanding the J esus group in its earliest phases as a person-centered and then group-centered Jewish faction. A positive consequence of this approach is that the Jesus faction is accurately seen as thoroughly Jewish in its origin and orientation and not as some unique or independent social entity without embeddedness in the structures and culture of first-century Palestinian society. The limitation of the faction model, however, is that it will not fit or account for a subsequent changing situation when the faction undergoes gradual ideological and social disengagement from its previous corporate group or encapsulating structure.
The Jesus Movement: From Faction to Sect Thus, the question still remains open as to whether in a succeeding phase of its existence the Jesus faction gradually assumed the features and strategies of a Jewish sect reflecting a shift in social conditions and a changed relationship
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to its parent body. This is the issue to which we shall now turn. In brief, I shall propose that under particular conditions the J esus movement ceased to be regarded by the corporate body of Judaism as a Jewish faction in social and ideological allegiance with Judaism and in a process of differentiation and dissociation gradually beg an to assume the character and strategies of a J ewish sect.
The Changing Conditions The changing conditions under which this shift from J ewish faction to J ewish sect gradually occurred in?lude the following: 1. An increase in the quantity and quality of social tension and ideological difference between the Jesus faction and the corporate body of Israel, especially over Jesus as Messiah, Torah observance, Temple allegiance, purity rules and boundaries (Gospels; Acts; Pauline letters; 1 Pet); harassment/punishment by Jewish authorities, frequently in collusion with Roman authorities (Matt 10:17-23; 24:9; Mark 9:13 and par.; Luke 12:11-12; John 9:22; 12:42-43; 15:18-16:4; Acts 2:23; 3:14-15; 4:25-29; 5:17-40; 6:127:60; 8:1-3; 12:1-11; 13:27-29; 14:1-5, 19; 17:1-9; 18:12-17; 20:3; 21:1114; 27:26-32; 1 Thess 2:14-16; 2 Thess 1:6; OLW'YJlOC;, O'A'iif;u;: Mark 4:17 par.; 10:30; Acts 8:1; 13:50; Rom 8:35; 2 Cor 12:10; 1 Thess 2:14-16; 2 Thess 1:4; 2 Tim 3:11; cf. OLWKW: Matt 5:10; Gal1:13; Phil 3:6; Heb 12:4; 13:3; Rev 2:13 passim); 2. A recruitment by the faction of classes of persons previously excluded according to conventional interpretation of Torah from membership in Judaism (Samaritans; Gentiles; NT passim e.g., Matt 28:19; Mark 13:10; Luke 2:32; 9:52 (cf. Matt 10:5); 10:29-37; 17:11-19; 24:47; John 4:1-42; 7:35; 10:16 (?); 12:2-21); Acts 10:1-11:18; 13:46-48; 21:25; 28:28; Rom 1:5-6; 9:24; 15:18-21; Gal1:16; 2:7; Eph 2:11-3:6; Col 1:27; 1 Thess 1:910; 1 Pet 2:12; Rev 5:9, 7:9 etc.; 3. A claim on the part of the faction that it alone, in contrast to the parent body, embodies exclusively the authentic identity of Israel and the realization of its expectations - a claim involving the expropriation of traditions and marks of identity coupled with a judgment concerning the obsolescense or termination of previously valid norms and sanctions (J ohn 1: 17, 4749; 3:1-15; 4:23-24; 5:22-24, 39-47; 6:30-40, 57-58; 8:21-26, 31-59;· 9:39-41; 10:7-13; 12:44-50; 14:6; 15:21-25; 16:3; 19:13-16; GaI2:14-21; 3:16, 26-29; 6:16; Heb passim; 1 Pet 1:4, 10-12; 2:4-10); see data below, " Strategies" ; 4. Areplacement on the part of the faction of major institutions (Jesus
ELLI01T: FROM FACTION TO SECT 289 or the community for the Temple: John 2:18-22 [on Johannine replacements see Brown 1979:48-51; 1966:lxx-Ixxv, cxliii-cxliv, 201-204; Neyrey 1988a: 131-37]; 1 Cor 6:19-20; calendar: GaI4:10) and rituals ofincorporation (baptism for circumcision) and solidarity (Lord' s Supper for Temple worship) of the parent body; 5. A regard on the part of the faction of the parent body as distinct from itself (as "the Jews/Judaeans," "Gentiles"; distinction of "us, our" versus "them, theirs": "their synagogues" (Matt 4:23; 9:35; 10:17; 13:54 and par.; John 7:13; 9:22, 28; 19:38; 20:19; 3:7, 11; 5:30-47; chs. 7-8; 15:8-16:4 "prophets/you," 1 Pet 1:10-12; "unbelievers/you," 1 Pet 2:4-10; "Jews ... synagogue of Satan," Rev 2:9; 3:9); "perishable vs. imperishable inheritance," 1 Pet 1 :4); Heb passim; 6. A move on the part of the corporate body to differentiate and dissociate itself from the erstwhile Jewish faction with the claim that this movement is no longer representative of or consistent with the core values and commitments of the parent body of Israel (Birkat ha-minim; exclusion of Jesus movement from synagogues: John 9:22; 12:42; 16:2); 7. A perception on the part of the society at large that the erstwhile Jewish faction has assumed a distinctive social identity within Judaism; a perception expressed in the application of a distinctive label: XpwTLCi.Jloi (Acts 11:26; 26:28; 1 Pet 4:16). As these conditions begin to develop and accumulate, eventually a stage of differentiation and dissociation is reached in which the erstwhile Jesus faction assumes the fe~tures and strategies of a sect within Judaism. This shift from faction to sect is marked primarily by the tendency of the Jesus faction to rede fine the marks of social and cultural identity and boundaries and to be engaged in a process of social dissociation, reorganization, and ideological expropriation of the identity and traditions of the parent body. This sectarian stage of the Jesus group's development, I suggest, is implied in numerous writings of the New Testament and is accompanied by a recognizable set of typical sectarian strategies. To pursue this argument, I first summarize salient features of the sect as discussed earlier, along with illusfrative (rather than complete) references from the NT and selected relevant secondary literature. The NT references document aspects of sectarian mentality and strategy typical of much of the NT corpus and hopefully will stimulate more detailed analysis of particular writings in their entirety.
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Salient Sectarian Features and their Manifestation in Various Writings ofthe New Testament
The sect 1. in its earliest phase emerges as a coalition or faction within a corpo. rate body or as a minority group within a specific society. Within Palestinian Judaism, a Jewish faction centered in Jesus.of N azareth comes into being during the reign of the Roman emperor Tiberius, Rome's puppet king Herod Antipas, and the high priesthood of Caiaphas. Texts: Lit:
Earliest strata of the Gospels; Josephus Seland 1987; Malina 1988a; 1988b
2. arises under general societal conditions of stress and tension, instability, and social change. In Palestine, conflicting interests of Roman colonial control, Herodian hegemony, Temple-based aristocracy, and peasants had resulted in a situation of tension and instability and had occasioned the formation of rival coalitions with contrasting programs, strategies, and ideologies for perpetuating or ameliorating prevailing conditions. Texts: Lit:
Earliest strata of the Gospels; Josephus Scroggs 1975; Brown 1976; Theissen 1978; Belo 1981; Hollenbach 1981; Horsley and Hanson 1985; Horsley 1987; Borg 1984; Oakrnan 1986; 1991:151-79; Elliott 1986a; 1991; Füssel 1987; Goodman 1987; MalinaNeyrey 1991:97-122
3. involves a protest against perceived economic and societal disparity, deprivation, and repression; lack of access .10 goods, services, honor and status and the media of salvation; methods of political and ideological control; issues of the teaching and interpretation of the tradition; issues of ritual observance and moral conduct. In Palestine, the Jesus faction, like other Jewish coalitions (Qumranites; Pharisees; bandit groups) and factions (John the Baptizer) mounted protest against various aspects of Roman, Herodian, and Temple-aristocracy control and exploitation. Texts: Lit:
The earliest Jesus traditions of the Gospels; earIy traditions in Acts See literature in #2 above
Later in its spread throughout the diaspora, the protest of the messianic faction (developing from Jewish faction to dissociating Jewish sect) shifted to protest against "unbelievers" (inc1uding, beside Gentiles, now also Jews, Pharisees [now articulators of the dominant Jewish ideology]), who are tout court responsible for the oppression and suffering of the Messiah and his fol-
lowers; protest also against contamination/pollution by alien beliefs, values, and codes of behavior which threatened the cohesion of the group and the commitment of its members. Texts: Lit:
Redactional strata of the Gospels and Acts; Pauline epistles; 2 Cor 6:147:1; Hebrews; James; 1 Pet; 1-3 John; Rev . Meeks 1972; 1979; 1983; 1986; Scroggs 1975; Belo 1981; Eihott 1981; 1991; Rensberger 1984; Stanley 1986; Füssel 1987; Neyrey 1986; 1988a; 1988b; 1990; Malina-Neyrey 1988
4. is critical 0/ and rejects the view of reality taken for granted by the establishment, thereby being labelled and treated as a group deviating from fundamental societal norms and values. In Syria-Palestine and the diaspora, the messianic group expressed such critique and rejection and was so treated as a J ewish group deviating from both prevailing J ewish as weIl as pagan norms and values (messianic group vs. Temple and Torah Israel and KOOJJ.OC; [NRSV: "world"] = "society." Texts:
Lit:
Redactional material of the Gospels; John (contrasts of above/below, this world/not this world; truth/falsehood (e.g., 8:23, 42-47; 14:17, 19, 30; 15:19; 16:8-11,33; 17:14-19); Acts; Pauline letters; Heb; James; 1 Pet; 1 John (we/world, light/darlmess); 2 John 7; Rev See #3 (diaspora) above
5. is a clearly dejined community perceived by both its members and others as an identifiable social, organized entity. It is differentiated from its parent body in its voluntary and inc1usive membership, organization, roles, social relations, behavioral norms, cardinal values, and ideology. In the diaspora, the J ewish messianic sect so appears and eventually its members as follower~ of Jesus as the Messiah/Christ are identified by the parent body as deviants from the Mosaic Law (Acts 18:12; 20:20-21; 24:56; 25:8) and by Gentiles with the distinctive and opprobrious label "XPL07UX1Ioi" (Acts 11:26; 26:28; 1 Pet 4:16); cf. also "7W1I Narwpaiwv aipioewc;" (Acts 24:5, 14; 28:22). The messianic sect, on its part, identified itself variously as the 2KKA:YJoia (70V f)eov, XpW70V) (Matt 16:16; 18:17; Acts 20:28; Rom 16:16; 1 Cor 1:2 and passim); "body of Christ" (1 Cor 6, 12 etc.); "household of faith" (Gal 6: 10), "household of God" (1 Pet 2:5; 4: 17); "Israel of God" (Gal 6: 16) etc. Texts: Lit:
redactional strata of Gospels and Acts; Pauline Ietters; Hebrews; James; 1 Pet; Rev. See texts under Condition #1 above Scroggs 1975; Elliott 1981; Meeks 1983; 1986
6. is a voluntary association where membership is gained through personal decision, commitment to the values and norms of the community.
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Admission to the messianic sect occurs through voluntary repentance ' confession of faith, and baptismal conversion. Texts: Lit:
Gospels; Acts; Pauline letters; Heb; Jas; 1 Pet; 1 John Scroggs 1975; Brown 1979; Elliott 1981; Meeks 1983; Stanley 1986; Rensberger 1988
7. is open to adherents /rom all sectors of the society, but is particularly attractive to the deprived (relatively and absolutely) and dissatisfied, the socially depressed, marginated and out-groups. . Admission to the messianic sect, in contrast to the J ewish parent body, lS open to all c1asses, genders, strata, inc1uding the marginated and Gentiles. Texts: Lit:
Redactional levels of the Gospels and Acts (esp. chs 10-11, 15); Pauline letters (esp. Rom 10:12; Gal 3:28); Col (3:11); Jarnes; 1 Pet; Rev. See further data under Condition #2 above. Brown 1979; Elliott 1981; Meeks 1983
8. offers social acceptance and material support within the community; improved access to material and social resources, safety, security, stability, personal and social empowerment; escape from shameful conditions; a sup.:. portive environment within which one can survive with honor and can experience some degree of coincidence between aspirations and experience. The messianic sect offered such hope of social and divine acceptance, support, and love through incorporation in the brotherhood of faith, the household of faith, the family of God, the eKKA:fJaLa of God (Christ). Texts: Lit:
NT passim Scroggs 1975; Elliott 1981; 1991; Meeks 1983; 1986
9. promotes equity/is egalitarian in its orientation. The messianic sect, in contrast to its Jewish parent body stratified along purity lines, is egalitarian (so Scroggs) or seeks to establish equity (so Meeks) or generalized reciprocity (so Elliott) among its members as typical of family relations, c1aiming undiscriminated access to God and equal reception of the divine Spirit. Texts: Lit:
Matt 23:8-12; Luke-Acts; Rom 12:3-8; Gal 3:28; Eph 2:11-22; 4:11; 1 Cor 7:4, 17-24; chs. 12-13; Col 3:11; Jas 2:1-16; 4:13-5:6; 1 Pet 3:7; 4:10-11 Scroggs 1975; Meeks 1986; Elliott 1991
10. conceives of itself as an elect, gathered remnant of the parent body, possessing special enlightenment. The messianic sect identified itself - over against the parent body of Ju~aism - as the faithful "remnant chosen by grace," (Rom 11 :5), the
"Israel of God" (Gal 6:16), the elect and holy covenant people of God (1 Pet 2:4-10), called into existence by God, and enjoying God's special revelation, favor, and spiritual endowment, appropriating to itself the honor and epithets of the parent body. Texts:
Lit:
NT passim, e.g., Mark 13:2-27 par.; Luke-Acts (community 1ed and infused with the Spirit); lohn ("born of God" 1 :12-13; 3:3-8; cf. 1 lohn 2:29-3:10; 4:7; 5:1-5, 18-20); Rom 8:31-39; 11:5; Col 3:12; 1 Thess 1:4; 2 Tim 2:10; 1 Pet 1:1; 2:4-10; 5:13; 2 Pet 1:10; 1 John 2:20; 2 lohn 1; 13; Rev 17:14. See also texts under Condition 3 above. EIliott 1966; 1981; Malina 1981; Meeks 1983; 1986; Neyrey 1986; 1988b; 1990; 1991a; 1991b
11. requires of its members termination of and separation /rom previous associations and loyalties; insists on exclusive allegiance and total commitment. Membership in the messianic sect through faith, repentance and conversion required termination of previous alliances and allegiances, separation from evil and the "world" (unbelieving society), resistance to outsider influences and pressures to conform to non-Christian standards and values, maintenance of its purity and exc1usive faith in Jesus Christ, fear of God and love of the brotherhood. Texts: Lit:
Matt 22:21 par; Acts 4:12; Eph 4:17-5:20; 1 Thess 4:1-8; Col3:1-17; larnes 1:27; 4:7-8; 1 Pet 2:17; 4:1-4; 5:8-9; 1 John; Rev Scroggs 1975; Elliott 1981; Malina 1981; Meeks 1983; 1986; Freyne 1985; Stanley 1986; Neyrey 1986; 1990
12. develops and seeks to maintain a distinctive and coherent pattern of values, belief and behavior. The messianic sect appropriated, combined, and modified the cultural (religious) and ethical traditions of its parent body and of Greece and Rome in conformity with its distinctive kerygma of the unique Lordship of Jesus Christ, his death and resurrection. Texts: Lit:
NT passim Elliott 1981; Meeks 1983; 1986; Neyrey 1990
13. develops distinctive rituals of inclusion, association, and communal identity reinforcement. The messianic sect, in contrast to its parent body, substituted baptism (replacing circumcision) as the ritual of admission and incorporation, and the Lord's Supper (replacing Temple worship) as the chief ritual of association and solidarity.
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Texts: Lit:
Matt 28:19; Mark 14:22-25 par; Mark 16:16; Acts 2:38 andpassim; Rom 6:3-4; 1 Cor 1:13-17; Gal 3:27; Eph 4:5; Co1 2:12; 1 Pet 3:21; 1 Cor 11:17-26 Meeks 1983; 1986; Malina 1981; 1986; Rensberger 1988; Neyrey 1990; 1991b
14. is small in size (relative to the parent body and macrosociety) and political influence thereby permitting only a minimal range of diversity of conduct while simultaneously being vulnerable to external pressure for conformity. The messianic sect constituted in itsearly development a s~all movement (in contrast to the size of Judaism; its parent body) spread over a wide area of the Mediterranean world. Its sm all size and negligible political influence made it vulnerable to extinction as a result of external pressure for conformity as well as of manifold internal diversity and division. Texts: Lit:
Acts; 1 Cor; James; 1 Pet; 1-3 John; 2 Pet; Jude; Rev Elliott 1981; 1986b; 1991
15. insists on personal perjection and integrity as the expected standard of aspiration, in whatever terms this is judged. In the messianic sect, the expectation of personal perfection/integrity is linked with purity, wholeness, and imitation of the perfection and holiness of God or Jesus. Texts:
Lit:
Matt 5:48; Rom 12:2; 2 Cor 6:14-7:1; 1 Thess 4:1-8; Eph 5:1-20; James 1:26-27; 4:8; 1 Pet 1: 14-16; 3: 1-6; 1 John (linked to imitation of God or Jesus: 1:6-2:12; 2:19; 2:29-3:10; 3:11-24; 4:7-12, 16-21; 5:16-18. See also the texts in #11 above. Elliott 1981; 1993; Malina 1981; Meeks 1983; Neyrey 1986; 1988b; 1990; 1991a
16. expels (excommunicates) from the sect those who cOntravene doetrinal, moral, or organizational precepts. In the ·messianic sect, expulsion resulted from violation of God's will and the standards of purity, false teaching, disrupting the unity of the community. Texts: Lit:
Matt 18:15-17; 1 Cor 5:9-13; 1 Tim 1:20; 6:3; 2 John 10-11 Meeks 1983; Neyrey 1990
17. must maintain its social cohesion and the emotional commitment 0/ its members, especially under conditions of hostile extern al pressures and internal conflict. In the face of internal ethnic and social diversity and external hostility, the messianic sect was required to develop a variety of strategies and .
ELLIOIT: FROM FACTION TO SECT 295 rationales for securing the solidarity of the community and the commitment of its members. Texts: Lit:
Mark 13 par.; John 15; 17:11-12, 20-23; Pau1ine 1etters; Heb; James; Pet; 2 Pet; 1-3 John; Jude; Rev. See below, "Strategies." Elliott 1981; Meeks 1983; 1983a
18. is an ideological unit with a specific ideology involving extraordinary legitimation and warrant for its contested structure of values and its contested system of beliefs and codes of behavior. The messianic sect utilized various theologie al claims to provide divine warrant for it~ patterns of values, beliefs, and behavior, including assiIrance of divine favor, election, and sanctification; realization of divine promises and eschatological fulfillment; illumination by and endowment with the Spirit; and participation in the death and resurrection of its Lord; the imminence of divine judgment. Texts: Lit:
NT passim. See data in #10, 12, 15 above Elliott 1981; Meeks 1983; 1983a; 1986; Esler, 1987
19. may manifest one of several types of assessments of and responses to the rld, society, the human condition. The Christi an faction/sect, generally eschatological and adventist in its early orientation, under varying social and political conditions, could exhibit features of either conversionist (" supernaturally wrought transformation of the self' [Wilson 1973:22]), revolutionist (divine destruction and restoration of the social order [ibid. 23]) or introversionist (insulation of aseparated, holy community [ibid. 23-24]) sect types. Texts: Lit:
Synoptics; Acts; Pauline 1etters; 1 Pet; 2 Pet; Jude (conversionist); John; James; 1-3 John (introversionist); Rev (revolutionist) Wilde 1978; Elliott 1981; Stanley 1986; MacDonald 1988
20. as a general response to the world, seeks to insulate itself from the effects of external social change and the influence of the wider society; seeks to reduce the need for compromise with the changing social pattern. The Christian sect, on the whole, attempted to insulate (but not isolate) itself from the pressures of the larger society by employing a concept of fictive kinship and brotherhood along with a modification of traditional codes of purity and pollution to establish a distinctive group identity, internal cohesion, and clear lines of social and moral boundaries. Texts: Lit:
NT passim, esp. 2 Cor 6:14-7:1; James; 1 Pet; 1 John Elliott 1981; 1991; Malina 1981; 1985; Meeks 1983; 1986; Neyrey 1986; 1988b; 1990; 1991a; 1991b; Rensberger, 1988
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21. though critical of outsider beliefs and behavior, it nevertheless shares many of the values of the parent body. and the macrosociety and must accommodate its ethic to the chan ging needs of its members and to the changing nature of the challenge of the wider society. The Christian sect criticized conventional J ewish and pagan institutions and morality as inferior to its own, but simultaneously adopted and adapted values, beliefs, and moral standards wherever compatible with its understanding of its Christ mythos and will of God. Texts: Lit:
NT passim, especially parenetic sections (vices/virtues, household codes etc.) Elliott 1981; 1986; Malina 1981; Balch 1986; Meeks 1983; 1986; Neyrey 1990; 1991a; 1991b
In sum, there is abundant evidence from the New Testament and related literature indicating that the Jesus faction, after the death of its leader and as a consequence of its conflict with its parent body and the macrosociety , eventually assumed the features and strategies typical of a sect. These sectarian characteristics of the J esus group distinguish it from other J ewish groups, coalitions, and factions (Sadducees [a putative hereditary group], Pharisees, Essenes, Zealots) which, whatever their peculiar features and programs, remained incorporated within the parent body of Judaism. Accordingly, among the various J ewish groups or coalitions of the first century, it is only the messianic group centered in J esus which is accurately c1assified and profitably analyzed as an eventual Jewish sect. My intention here has not been to trace specific phases leading up to consolidation as a sect. For that purpose the three-phase pattern of events outlined by Kenelm Burridge (1969:105-16, 170) in his study of millennarian movements, a process leading from an initial phase of awareness of disenfranchisement to a culminating stage of sect formation, offers a useful model. We may now turn to a c10ser examination of some of the sectarian strategies employed by early Christianity and reflected in its early writings.
Early Christian Sectarian Strategies In its sectarian phase, early Christianity employed a variety of typical sec-
tarian strategies, both social and ideological, to establish itself and advance its goals. These included the following (illustrative texts in addition to those cited below are provided in the material above on sectarian characteristics and therefore will not be repeated): 1. The establishment and promotion of group consciousness. See Sectarlan Feature 5, above.
ELLIOTI': FROM FACTION TO SECT 297 - reinforcement of group consciousness through terms, metaphors for communal identity: brotherhood, family of God; 8KKt..:quia, body of Christ; flock; vine. branches etc.; communal assemblies and rituals; "we" form of communication and appeal; personal contact via visits and communication through letters etc.
2. The establishment and fostering of a distinctive social identity. See Sectarian Features 10-13 above. - promotion of a self-understanding of eliteness and superiority. conferred by God: "elect and holy people of God"; God's special people; covenant people; holy people (saints) united with their holy God; solidarity with Jesus Christ; animated by the Holy Spirit of God (NT passim). - claim of embodying exclusively "in Christ" the fulfillment and realization of ancient sacred promises, expectations, and hopes (in contrast to the parent body) (Gospels; Acts; Gal; 1 Tim 2:5-6; Heb; 1 Pet; Rev). - claim of being the subject of God's reversal of social status (in contrast to perceived inferior status in society at large); claim of new honor and dignity before God who stands over and above society (NT passim). - reinterpretation/replacement of main institutions of parent body: the place of God's presence shifted from Temple to body of Jesus (John 2:13-22) or community of the faithfu1 (l Cor 6:19-20); rite of initiation and incorporation shifted from circumcision to baptism (Gal 5:2-12; Col 2:11-14); calendar and purity rules of parent body transcended (Gal 4:8-12; 6:15; Col 2:20-23); faith in Christ replaces observance of the Law (Gal; Rom).
3. The establishment and enforcement of clear and non-porous social and ideological boundaries. See Sectarian Features 10-13, 15-18, above. - from an apocalyptic perspective, conceptual and ideological distinctions and demarcations within four correlated realms: the cosmological (heaven/earth); the temporal (this age/the age to come); the social (the righteous/unrighteous); and the personal (double-minded/who!e). - distinction and contrast of realms and groups through use of concepts and metaphors contrasting earth/heaven (Matt 6:10; Phil 3:21; Heb passim), demonicl divine (Jas 4:7), wisdom from above (=divine)/from below (=devilish) (Jas 3:1318); this age/age to come (Gal1:4; then/now (1 Pet 2:10; 4:2-3; darkness/light (1 Pet 2:9); death/life, rebirth (Rom 6:1-5; 1 Pet 1:3, 22; impure/pure.(l Cor 5-6; 1 Thess 4:1-8; Jas 1:26-27; 4:7-8); flesh/spirit (Gal 3:3; 5:16-26); sinners/righteous (1 Pet 4: 17-18); old nature/new nature (Col 3:9-10); doubleminded/integral person (Jas 1:4-8; 4:8); non-believers/believers (1 Pet 2:4-10); inside(ers)/outside(ers) (Matt 8:12; 22:13; 25:30; Mark 4:11; 1 Cor 5:12, 13; Col 4:5; 1 Thess 4:12; 1 Tim 3:17; 1 John 4:1; 2 John 7; Rev 22:15); afflicters/afflicted (1 Thess 3:3-5; 2 Thess 1:6; 1 Pet 3:13-16; 4:12-19. - differentiation of Christian sectarians from "negative reference groups" (Pharisees: [as "hypocrites"] Matt 5-7; 23; Sadducees: Mark 12:18-27 par.; Gentiles: Matt 5:47; 6:7; 18:17; Mark 10:42-45 par.; 1 Cor 5:1; 1 Thess 4:5; 1 Pet 2:12; 4:3; Rev 16:19; 18:23; 20:8; "synagogue of Satan" (Rev 2:9; 3:9); the "world" (John; 1-2 John; Jas 1:17) - insistence on termination of and separation (conversion) from previous associations, allegiances (social and religious), and way of life; explicit imperatives: ("abstain," "put off," "resist" e.g., Rom 13:12; Eph 4:22,25; 6:11-13; Co! 3:8;
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Jas 1:21; 4:7; 1 Pet 2:1; 2:11; 4:2-4; 5:8-9); see Sectarian Features 11 and 20 above. - criticism and vilification of the parent body and "others," i.e., outsider, non-group members as "hypocrites" (Matt 6:1-18; 15:7; 23:1-36; Luke 12:56), "snake bastards" (Matt 23:33); "blind leaders" (Matt 15:14; 23:16, 24; John 9:41); inaccurate interpreters of Torah (Matt 9:13; 12:1-8; 19:3-9; 21:16, 42; 22:29-33); "foo1s" (Matt 7:24-27; 1 Pet 2:15); "impious" (1 Pet 4:18); identification of "impure" outsiders with Satan, Devil who is/are to be resisted (John 8:29-34; Jas 4:7, cf. 1:26-27; 1 Pet 5:8-9; 2 John 7); "synagogue 'of Satan" (Rev 2:9; 3:9; cf. 12:1-18; 20:1-10); with the impurity or darkness of the "world" (unbe1ieving society) (John1:10-11; 16:18; Jas 1:27; 1 John; 2 John). - adoption and modification of the Jewish purity/pollution code for demarcation of boundaries (1 Cor 6:11, 18-21; 2 Cor 6:14-7:1; 1 Thess 4:1-8; Jas 1:27, 4:8; 1 Pet 1:14-16; Rev 21:8,22:11). See Sectarian Feature 13 above.
4. The assertion of social legitimacy and moral superiority. See Sectarian Features 10-12, 15, 18, above. - claim of origin of sect by divine initiative, its messiah sent by God, its community sustained and 1egitimated by divine favor;. claim of being divinely foreknown, called, and elected as God's special covenant community of the endtime (Rom 8:29-30; 1 Pet 1:1-2, 3-12, 14-16; 2:4-10), the object of divine favor, and recipient of special revelation (1 Cor 2:6-10; Gal1:11-12, 16; 2:2; 1 Pet 1:12, 25), the divine spirit (Acts passim; 1 Cor 6:19-20), and spiritual gifts/charisms, including spirit-endowed leaders) (1 Cor 12 par.; 1 Pet 4:10-11). - claim of antiquity of roots in, continuity with, fulfillment of hopes of ancient Israel; appeal to ancient Scripture and claim of its eschatological fulfillment in the sect's experience (NT passim) and identity as progeny of Abraham (Gal 3-4; Rom 4), Sarah (1 Pet 3: 1-6), and solidarity with other tradition al Jewish heroes of faith (Heb 11). - appropriation-cum-modification of the corporate identity, honorific epithets, and tradition of parent body and claim of now embodying that identity most fully as the "Israel of God" (Gal 6:16), the elect and ho1y covenant peop1e of God (1 Pet 1:14-16; 2:4-10), the faithfu1 "remnant" (Rom 11:5), the "househo1d of faith" (Gal 6:10) etc. - claim of superiority to the ancient prophets in reception of the Christ and the gospel (Heb; 1 Pet 1: 10-12); claim of obso1escence of previous covenants, sacrifices, modes of worship (Heb); claim of superiority of Jesus Christ to prophets, angels, Moses, Joshua, high priest, priests, sacrifices (Heb). - claim of personal and social integrity and superiority (in contrast to parent body and other outsiders) (Matt 5:20; Jas 1:4; 1 Pet 1:3-5, 10-12; 2:4-10; 2:1117; 3:15-16; 4:14-16); the "new rand superior] creation" (Gal6:15; cf. 5:1-7). - eschatological warrant for areinterpretation of the tradition (Rom 15:4; 1 Cor 10:1-13);
5. The reordering 0/ internal social roles, relations, and criteria 0/ status. See Sectarian Features 4, 6-9, 12-13, 15, 17-18, above. - role and status alterations (in contrast to outsider arrangements) based on claim of divine reversal of status (exemplified in J esus' crucifixionlresurrection, , rejection by me'n/acceptance by God) (Matt 19:30; 20:16 par.; Luke 1:52; 1 Pet
EILI01T: FROM FACTION TO SECT 299 2:4-10, 18-25) and special favor toward the poor and powerless (Luke 1:53; Jas 2:5); roles and relations involve subordination to will of God (in imitation of Jesus Christ) (1 Pet 2:18-25); mutual humility (1 Pet 3:8; 5:5); familial reciprocities (christological modification of household codes); equity of access to the grace of God (Gal 3:28; 1 Pet 3:7); mutual service rather than domination as criterion of leadership (1 Pet 4:10-11; 5:1-5).
6. The maintenance 0/ internal social cohesion and management 0/ internal conflict. See Sectarian Features 13, 15-17,20-21, above. . - establishment and enforcement of norms and sanctions governing conduct within the community via appeal to the will of God as c1arified in the teaching and experience of Jesus Christ; use of Decalogue, household codes, lists of virtues and vices with addition of christo10gical rationale; christo10gical, ecclesio10gical, and moral implications of baptism (1 Cor 1:10-16) and Lord's Supper (1 Cor 10:14-22; 11; 14); eschato10gical rationale (Rom 13:11-14; 1 Cor 10:1-11; Gal 6:16; 1 Pet 4:7-11). - insistence on personal and social integrity and wholeness (Matt 5:48; James passim; cf. #4 above). - stress on reciprocal forgiveness (Matt 18:15-18); brotherly love (1 Pet 1:22; 3:8); unity of mind and spirit (Phil 2:1-11; 1 Pet 3:8); building up of the community via love (1 Cor 8:1; 10:23; 12-13); order (1 Cor 14:40); equity (Gal 3:28; 1 Pet 3:7: "co-heirs of the grace of life"); mutual respect (1 Cor 7:4); mutual service (1 Pet 4:10-11); mutual humility (1 Pet 3:8; 5:5); mutual subordination (1 Pet 5:5); hospitality (1 Pet 4:9; 3 John). - eschato10gical warrant for behavior (1 Cor 7: 26-31). - stress on divine impartial judgment of living and dead (Rom 14:10-23; Cor 4:5; 1 Pet 1:17; 4:6,17-19). - exclusion of violators of norms and disrupters of cohesion (Matt 18: 15-17; 1 Cor 5:1-13).
7. The maintenance 0/ members' confidence and emotional commitment. See Sectarian Features 8-10, 17-18, above. - stress on God's benevolence, fidelity, love, and providential care as basis and goal of trust, faith, obedience, hope (NT passim). - stress on solidarity with experience of Jesus Christ (rejection, suffering, and divine vindication) (Gospels; Pauline epistles; 1 Pet 2:18-25; 4:1) and experience of the larger Christian brotherhood (1 Pet 5:8-9). - stress on personal experience of the Spirit of God (Luke-Acts; Gal 3:2-3; 5:25). - stress on personal growth and maturity (Gal 3:23-4:7; Eph 4:1-16; 1 Pet 1:22-2:3). - stress on God's transforming and resurrecting power (1 Cor 15:51-52; 1 Pet 1 :3-12). - stress on imminence and impartiality of divine judgment (1 Pet 1: 17; 4: 5, 7, 17-19) and divine compensation for steadfastness and fidelity (Jas 5:7-11; Rev passim).
8. The establishment and en/orcement 0/ norms and sanctions governing interaction with outsiders and society at large. See Sectarian Features 9, 11-12, 14-16, 18, 2Q-21, and #3 above.
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT _ establishment and enforcement of boundaries separating insiders/outsiders, especially through concept of purity /pollution (Iames 1: 26-27; 1 Pet 1: 14-16; see Sectarian Feature 15 above). _ insulation from outsider pollution by keeping oneself separate, holy, and unstained (Ias 1:26-27; 4:8; 1 Pet 4:2-4). _ urging of good conduct toward outsiders to gain their respect, silence their sI ander , and possibly win their adherence (1 Thess 4:11-12; Col 4:5; 1 Pet 2:12, 15; 3:1-2). _ in situations of tension and conflict, turning adversity into assets, e.g., finding a positive meaning to suffering; accentuating impression of external hostility and conflict as motivation for increased external resistance and internal social cohesion (Mark 13 par.; Pauline letters; 1 Pet); acceptance of the opprobrious label imposed by pagans, XPU1TUXJlOL (lit. "Christ-lackeys," Acts 11:26; 26:28; 1 Pet 4:16) as badge of honor of those suffering in Christ's name (1 Pet 4:12-16; cf. suffering because of the "name" of Christ, Mark 13:13/Matt 24:9/Luke 21:17; Matt 10:22; Luke 21:12; Acts 9:16; 21:13).
9. Provision of a plausible, coherent worldview/symbolic universe integrating values, goals, norms, patterns of belief and behavior and supplying ultimate (divine) legitimation for the sect's self-understanding, interests, program, and strategies. See Sectarian Features 4-13, 15-21. A coherent symbolic universe, as developed in the Jesus movement, would have involved an attempted integration of views of space and time (cosmology, eschatology), a doctrine of God, of humanity and the human conditi on , of evil, of salvation, of the messianic savior, and of renewed human community, its self-understanding, morality, and relation to the world (natural and social). In the literature of the messianic sect the following wellknown features of this symbolic uni verse may be noted: Cosmology: a universe under the sway of demonic powers vanquished by Iesus' death and resurrection. Eschatology: approach of the end of the age, appearance of the Messiah, fulfillment of expectations, imminence of divine judgment. Human ·condition: alienated from Creator God and under the control of demonic, satanic forces. Evil: alienation from God, creatures, and created order; transgression of the Creator's will. Salvation: liberation from demonic control and reunification with Creator God through the death and resurrection of Iesus the Messiah; transformation of society. Human community: humans reconciled with God and one another in covenantal community in Christ through divine action and response of trust and faith active. in love. Morality: maintaining exc1usive union with God, Iesus Christ, and one another through trust, fidelity, mutual respect, and love and remaining unpolluted by unregenerated society. Relation to society: defensive protection of its holiness and wholeness coupled with an external mission anticipating personal and social transformation wrought ultimately by God.
EUIOTT: FROM FACTION TO SECT 301 In this worldview, eschatological and apocalyptic beliefs served conceptual, social, and ideological functions in demarcating incompatible realms of reality; providing warrant for social boundaries, the maintenance of internal cohesion, and innovations in teaching and norms deviant from that of the pare~t body and society at large; legitimating leadership; and in providing sanchons for normative behavior within the sect and resistance to disruptive press ures from without (Meeks 1983a). In sum, New Testament evidence of the social and ideological features of early Christianity indicates that within a generation· of Jesus' death the Jewish messianic faction centered in Jesus of Nazareth eventually beg~ to assurne the character of a Jewish sect. Under the reigns of Augustus Caesar and Tiberius, it originated as a Jewish faction alongside other Jewish factions in Roman-controlled Palestine. It constituted n,ot a new social phenomenon ~utside Judai~~ but an inner-Jewish faction rooted in the history, organizahon, and tradItIOns of the house of Israel, critical of prevailing administrative policies and cultural values incompatible with the will of God, and calling for reform and renewal of commitment to the reign of God. Following the execution of its founder and its reassessment of the meaning and social and moral implications of bis death as messiah the faction reorganized as a group-centered messianie faction which saw 'in itself the eschatological and authentic embodiment of Israel and in its messiah the mediator of an inclusive access to the holiness and power of God (salvation). Conflict with authorities of the J ewish parent body over fundamental issues of the identification of Jesus as messiah, interpretation and observance of the Law, and association with Gentiles eventuated in the gradual distinction and dissociation of parent body and messianic faction and the latter's transformation into a J ewish sect. In contrast to the one other faction within Judaism wbich also assumed s~c~ari~ ten~encies, the community at Qumran, it did not espouse a policy of vlcI.nal IsolatIOn but rather , like the Pharisaic faction, advocated a strategy of soclal, moral, and ideological insulation. In contrast to the Pharisaic faction which eventually gained political ascendancy, however, its smaller size, minimal political influence, and vulnerability to the charge of moral and ideological "deviancy , " coupled with its aggressive recruitment of Gentiles, worldwide "mission," and its reordering of values, norms and social boundaries, resulted in the gradual marginalization and sectioning off of the messianic faction from the parent body and its adoption of the role and strategies of a Jewish sect. The sectarian struggle with the parent body was intense precisely because it was a family conflict. Eventually members of this Jewish sect would be labelIed pejoratively by outsiders as "partisans of the Christ," or "Christ-
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lackeys" (XpwnCivoL) , a label which would eventually supplant all others and preserve forever the group's Jewish origin but distinctive identity. The above discussion suggests such a course for the faction/sect's development.
Sect or Cult? Recently, however, it has been suggested that nascent Christianity from Paul onward is better viewed as a "cult" than as a sect. American sociologist Rodney Stark, in a brief analysis of the class basis of early Christianity (1986), has taken this position. "Sects," by Stark's definition based on modern evidence of the phenomenon, "occur by schism within a conventional religious body when persons desiring a more otherworldly version of the faith break away to 'restore ' the religion to a higher level of tension with its environment" (1986:217). "Cult movements, on the other hand," he notes, "are not simply new organizations of an old faith, they are new faiths, at least new in the society being exarnined., Cult movements always start small someone has new religious ideas and begins to recruit others to the faith, or an alien religion is imported into a society where it then seeks recruits. In either case, as new faiths, cult movements violate prevailing norms and often are the target of considerable hostility" (1986:217). "Christianity," he claims, "wasn't a sect movement within conventional paganism. It was a new, deviant, faith which eventually prompted bloody efforts to wipe it out ... it was a cult movement in the context of the empire, just as the Mormons were a cult movement in the context of 19th century America" (1986:224). Michael White (1988) has adopted this proposal with the qualification that it was first in the Diaspora environment that the Jewish sect "became predominantly a cult" (1988: 17). . Stark's brief article, however, involves more assertion than evidence (for a fuller discussion of the sect/cult distinction for analyzing modern movements see Stark and Bainbridge 1985; 1987). His comparison of the first century and nineteenth century scenes is too brief and superficial, fails to consider the wide difference between the ancient and modem situations, and lacks sufficient basis for cross-cultural comparison. Moreover, both Stark and White fail to delineate the differences in structure and strategy between sect and cult and the characteristic link of the sect to a parent body. And in the light of our foregoing discussion, a dismissal of the sectarian features of the early Christian movement, especially its self-definition as the fulfillment of Jewish identity and history , runs into insuperable evidence to the contrary. There is, however, at least one relevant aspect of Stark's differentiation; name1y that of perspective. From the perspective of its emergence within
ELLI01T: FROM FACTION TO SECT 303 Judaism, Christianity sees itself as a Jewish sect sharing a common history, common traditions, and a common worldview with a parent body over against which it stands in tension. Its distinguishing feature as a Jewish sect is its unremitting identification of itself as the Israel of God, the cornmunity of the awaited messiah, the eschatological realization of the promises to Abraham and the prophets. On the other hand, from the perspective of Greco-Roman society especially beyond the·land of Israel, Christianity is seen by pagans as a foreign eastem .cult among many, embodying new ideas, perspectives, values and goals,a cult which is iinported into another social-cultural system where it seeks to synthesize diverse traditions both farniliar and unfamiliar and is regarded as a deviant and dangerous entity in tension with the host society and unrelated to the Jewish nation. Thus the difference in the case of early Christianity has less to do with structural transformation (from sect to cult) than with cultural perception. In the collective consciousness of its members, the Christian movement constituted a fulfillment of the expectations of ancient Israel in contrast to its parent body. In the opinion of Jewish authorities, this erstwhile Jewish faction had become a renegade movement which had moved beyond the borders of authentic Judaism. But in the minds of a pagan society, the XpwnCivoL represented yet another alien, novel and therefore dangerous superstitio. Whatever the particular weapons and tactics demanded in the movement's confrontation with both Judaism and paganism, the strategies employed remained essentially sectarian in nature. In both theory and praxis early Christianity could ill afford to sacrifice its ancient roots and its J ewish moorings. The issue in general, however, requires a more nuanced discussion than can be provided at this point.
Summary and Conclusion In first century Palestine, in aperiod of social and political conflict and instability, with various forces vying for control and allegiance, conflicting perceptions, experiences, and assessments of prevailing conditions led to the formation of riyal coalitions and factions protesting current power arrangements and seeking improved access to scarce goods and resources. Among these riyal coalitions was the Jesus faction which, though initially weakened by the execution of its leader, later reconstituted itself as a group-centered faction within Palestinian Judaism. Over time, however, its protest, program, strategies, and ideology came to be perceived as sufficiently deviant from and dangerous to the society, its central institutions , and its ruling class
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so as to warrant censure, punishment, and eventually exelusion. As a deviant movement at odds with and censured by the corporate body of Judaism, the Jesus faction gradually dissociated from the parent body first ideologically and then socially and gradually assumed the attitudes and actions of a sect, an . erstwhile Jewish niovement which because of its inelusion of Gentiles had deviated from J ewish norms and violated J ewish social boundaries to such an extent that it could no longer be regarded as merely another Jewish faction. In this contlict with its J ewish parent body, the J esus faction adopted the strategies and ideology of a sect, elaiming to embody in superior fashion the identity and dignity of covenantal Israel. It sought to provide, apart from its parent body, an exelusive and all-embracing environment for its members. In this social environment, persons of all elasses, race, and gender were offered acceptance, communal support, enhancement of honor, equal dignity before God, and the certainty of salvation in return for their unswerving trust in God, adherence to the norms and traditions of the sect which envisioned itself as the elect and holy people of God, and their steadfast commitment to God Jesus Christ, and the brotherhood of faith. An inelusive policy of member~ ship was accompanied by an exelusive intolerance to polluting intluence from outside society ineluding Jews and Gentiles. Steadfastness in commitment even in the face of suffering due to extern al hostility and internal tension division, would be evidence of solidarity with the suffering of the vindicated Christ and would be rewarded by God who was soon to judge the living and the dead and trans form the world. In the sect, its adherents were offered both a place of social belonging and a plausible and coherent symbolic universe integrating experience and aspiration. Thus the Jesus movement assumed different social forms and strategies at different stages of its development and social interaction. From its inception as a J ewish faction it assumed after the death of its leader the features strategies, and ideology of a Jewish sect in contlict with its parent body ove; fundamental issues concerning the identity, boundaries, norms, and projects of the eschatological people of God and its role in the world. Although within the hellenistic society of the Roman imperium it may have been viewed as another novel Oriental cult, the movement consistently regarded itself as the culmination of ancient Israelite promises and hopes and maintained its roots in the history, sacred traditions, and self-understanding of Israel. Accordingly, in the terminology of the social sciences, it is best conceived and studied as a Jewish faction which in the course of time assumed the features and strategies of a Jewish sect. In summarizing the features which are typical of sects and the supportive environment they provide, Wilson (1961:354) has noted:
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A sect serves as a small and 'deviant' reference-group in which the individual may seek status and privilege and in terms of whose standards he may measure his own talents and accomplishments in more favourable terms than are generally available in the wider society. It alters the context of striving, puts a premium on attributes different from those counted significant in the world, provides the reassurance of a stable, affective society whose commitment and value-structure claim divine sanction and divine permanence. Its ideological orientation and its group cohesion provide a context of emotional security so vital to the adherent that its teachings necessarily become, for hirn, objectively true. It is for the individual an adjustment and an accommodation, offered even at the cost of institutional maladjustment . . . . Similarly, Schwartz (1970:67-68) observes that the sect provides: arefuge from an otherwise dreary and often intolerable world . . .. The sect reaffirms [a person's] social identity in the face of impersonal agencies which seem to reduce his already lowly social standing; sects enable the socially disinherited to assert their worth through the appropriate social symbols. The sect, then, counteracts the demoralizing frustrations and anxieties produced by overwhelming social and economic pressures.
It may be argued that it was precisely these sectarian aims and accomplishments which enabled the Jesus movement to survive and tlourish in its nascent period. Under varying social conditions, sects transmogrify in varying ways, either through institutionalization, assimilation, emigration, isolation, or internal fragmentation (schisms). In the subsequent course of its history , the Christian sectarian movement underwent more than one of these structural changes. Eventually, however, it was geographical, cultural, and ideological consolidation and institutionalization which gave the erstwhile Jewish messianic sect a viable structure and a permanent lease on life. "To study the sect. as a total social entity," Wilson has commented (1988:231-32), involves providing an account of, among other items, its teachings and their provenance, the movement's origins as aseparated body, the course of its development, the character and transmission of its leadership, the source of its appeal, its methods of recruitment, the nature of 'conversion,' the social composition of its constituency, the maintenance of social control, its economic structure, the extent to which children are retained in the movement, its capacity to motivate and mobilize its members, the relationship of ideology to organization, the movement's social ethos, and its relation to the wider society and to other movements.
Such exhaustive analysis, he notes (1988:232), has rarely been accomplished by social scientists themselves, let alone by historians of ancient sectarian movements. A elose social-scientific scrutiny of early Christianity as first a Jewish faction and then a Jewish sect is yet in its initial phase. But already this social-scientific perspective on the factional and sec-
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tarian features of early Christianity has yielded fruitful results unattainable through conventional analysis. First, in general an advance has been made in sharpening the perspectives and the categories necessary for examining emerging Christianity as a sodal phenomenon. This inc1udes both synchronic and diachronic perspectives; that is, the conditions, relations, and strategies relevant to each phase of its formation and those factors also relevant to its development and modification over time. Second, tested models from cross-cultural research ---..: the faction and the sect (as refined above to meet the criticisms of Seland [1987] and Holmberg [1990: 108-17]) - have provided useful heuristic tools for conceptualizing the specijic and varying lorms 01 the messianic movement in its early stages of development and for indicating lactors requiring detailed analysis. These factors inc1ude the varying social, economic, political, and cultural conditions bearing on the emergence of the messianic faction and its transformation from faction to sect; the particular issues under contention and the contending parties (dominant groups, factions) involved; the differing interests, strategies and ideologies of contending parties; the changes in the interests, organization, strategy, and ideology of the messianic group as it developed from faction to sect; and the impact these changes had, in turn, on the interaction of the Christi an faction/sect with both its erstwhile parent body and the larger society. Attention to this constellation of factors provides precision in the analysis of formative Christianity as a developing social phenomenon in interacthm with its social environment. As a heuristic device, the faction/sect model suggests wh at data to look for. As an explanatory mechanism, it indicates how these data are related and constitute a more coherent picture of Christian beginnings. Third, analysis of the J esus group as a J ewish faction and then J ewish sect facilitates attention to its fundamentally J ewish character and orientation and to both the conceptual issues and social strategies which played a determinative role in its engagement and conflict with its Jewish counterparts. This allows the investigator to take the J ewish roots of Christianity .with radical historical seriousness. Accordingly, Christianity is analyzed not as a novum on the stage of world his tory but as an offspring of the House of Israel and the result of an initially inner-Jewish struggle. Fourth, it also has helped identify the dilemmas faced by the Jewish messianic sect in its relations with the larger Greco-Roman sodety, especially as a conversionist sect intent on attracting recruits to its inc1usive community while simultaneously keeping itself "unspotted by the world," together with the strategies and ideology developed for meeting these dilemmas.
EIL/OU: FROM FACTION TO SECT 307 Fifth, analysis of the Jesus group as first faction and then sect has helped to envision and then explain changes which took place in its perception of and response to its environment, its self-definition and organization, and its interests, social strategies, and ideology. Finally, viewing the emergence of the Christi an community through these lenses has begun to provide sodal scenarios according to which the early Christian literature can be more perceptively read and interpreted as expressions of factional or sectarianconsciousness and purpose. As a result, a c1earer sense is gained of the pragmatic dimension. of these writings and of the factors determining their content, organization, and rhetorical aims and strategies. Further analysis of early Christianity along these lines can be expected to c1arify still further the changing forms of the movement in the course of changing socia! conditions; the modifications of its relations with Judaism, hellenistic society and Rome; and the social interests and strategies of the literature generated in response to these developments.
* I am grateful to Professor David Rensberger for his helpful comments on the initial draft of this paper delivered at the Emory Symposium (1991) and have incorporated several of his suggestions concerning relevant material in the Gospel of John. Works Consulted Balch, David 1986 "HellenizationlAcculturation in 1 Peter." pp. 79-101 in Perspectives on First Peter. Ed. Charles Talbert. Macon, GA: Mercer University. Bel0, Fernando 1981 A Maten"aUst Reading o/the Gospel 0/ Mark. MaryknoIl, NY: Orbis. Berger, Peter L. 1954 "The Sociological Study of Sectarianism." Social Research 21 :467-85. Boissevain, Jeremy 1974 Friends 0/ Friends: Networks, Manipulators and Coalitions. Oxford: Blackwell. Borg, Marcus J. 1984 Conjlict, Holiness & Politics in the Teaching 0/ Jesus. Studies in the Bible and Early Christianity 5. New York: The Edwin MeIlen Press.
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Brown, John Painnan 1976 "Techniques of Imperial Control: The Background of the Gospel Event." pp. 73-83 in The Bible and Liberation. Political and Sodal Hermeneutics. Ed. Nonnan K. Gottwald, Antoinette C. Wire. Berkeley, CA: Community for Re1igious Research and Education.
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Brown, Raymond E. 1966 The Gospel According to John 1-12. AB 29. Garden City: Doubleday. 1970 The Gospel According to John 13-21. AB 29A. Garden City: Doubleday. 1979 The Community ofthe Beloved Disciple. New York: Paulist Press.
Füssel, Kuno Drei Tage mit Jesus im Tempel. Einführung in die materialistische Lektüre 1987 der Bibel. Münster: Edition Liberaci6n.
Burridge, Kenelm 1969 New Heaven, New Earth. A Study of Millenarian Activities. New York: Schocken. Cadbury, Henry J. 1979 "Note XXX. Names for Christians and Christianity in Acts." pp. 375-92 in The Beginnings ofChristianity. Part 1. The Acts ofthe Apostles, Vo15. Ed. F. J. Foakes Jackson, Kirsopp Lake. Grand Rapids: Baker. Orig. pub. 1932. Clark, E. T. 1937
The Small Sects in America. New York: Abingdon.
Danielou, Jean 1969 "Christianity as a Jewish Sect." pp. 275-82 in The Crudble of Christianity: Judaism, Hellenism and the Historical Background ofthe Christian Faith. Ed. Arnold Toynbee. London: Thames and Hudson. Elliott, John H. 1966 The Elect and the Holy. Supplements to Novum Testamentum 12. Leiden: E. J. Bri11. A Home for the Homeless. A Sociological Exegesis of 1 Peter, Its Situation 1981 and Strategy. Philadelphia: Fortress. Second expanded edition. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991. "Social-Scientific Criticism of the New Testament: More on Methods and 1986a Models." pp. 1-33 in Semeia 35: Social-Scientijic Critidsm ofthe New Testament and Its Social World. Ed. John H. Elliott. Decatur, GA: Scholars. "1 Peter, Its Situation and Strategy: A Discussion with David Balch." pp. 1986b 61-78 in Perspectives on First Peter. Ed. Charles H. Talbert. Macon, GA: Mercer University. "Temple versus Household in Luke-Acts: A Contrast in Social Institu1991 tions. " pp. 211-40 in The Social World ofLuke-Acts: Modelsfor Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. "The Epistle of James in Rhetorical and Social Scientific Perspective: 1993 Holiness-Wholeness and Patterns of Replication." BTB 23:71-81. Esler, Philip Francis 1987 Community and gospel in Luke-Acts. The social and political motivations ofLucan theology. SNTSMS 57. New YorkJCambridge: Cambridge U niversity.
. "Vilifying the Other and Defining the Self: Matthew's and John's AntiJewish Polemic in Focus. " pp. 117-43 in "To See Ourselves as Others See Us": Christians, Jews, "Others" in Late Antiquity. Ed. Jacob Neusner and E. S. Frerichs. Chico: Scholars.
Gager, John G. 1975 Kingdom and Community. The Social World of Early Christianity. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hal1. Goodman, Martin 1987 The Ruling Class of Judaea: The Origins ofthe Jewish Revolt Against Rome A.D. 66-70. New York: Cambridge University. Hill, Michael "Sect." Encyclopedia of Religion 13: 154-59. 1987 Hollenbach, Paul W. 1981 "Jesus, Demoniacs, and Public Authorities: A Socio-Historical Study." Journal ofthe American Academy of Religion 49:567-88. Holmberg, Bengt 1990 Sociology and the New Testament. An Appraisal. Minneapolis: Fortress. Horsley, Richard A. 1987 J esus and the Spiral of Violence. Popular J ewish Resistance in Roman Palestine. San Francisco: Harper & Row. 1989 Sociology and the Jesus Movement. New York: Crossroad. Horsley, Richard A. and John S. Hanson 1985 Bandits, Prophets, and Messiahs. Popular Movements at the Time of Jesus. Minneapolis: Winston-Seabury. Johnson, Thomas F. 1986 "Sectarianism and the Johannine Community." Paper read at the Society of Biblical Literature annual meeting, Atlanta, Georgia, November 23, 1986. Macdonald, Margaret Y. 1988 The Pauline Churches: A Socio-historical Study of Institutionalization in the Pauline and Deutero-Pauline Writings. SNTSMS 60. Cambridge/New York: Cambridge U niversity. Malina, Bruce J. 1981 The New Testament World. Insightsfrom Cultural Anthropology. Atlanta: John Knox.
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The Gospel 0/ lohn in Sodolinguistic Perspective. Protoco1 of the Colloquy of the Center for Henneneutical Studies in Hellenistic and Modern Cu1ture 48. Ed. Hennan C. Waetjen. Berke1ey, CA: The Center for Henneneutical Studies in Hellenistic and Modern Culture. '''Religion' in the World of Paul." BTB 16:92-101. "A Conflict Approach to Mark 7." Forum 4:3-30. "Patron and Client. The Analogy Behind Synoptic Theo1ogy." Forum 4:2-32.
Malina, Bruce J. ~d Jer~me H. Neyrey "Conflict in Luke-Acts: Labelling and Deviance Theory." pp. 97-122 in 1991 The Sodal World 0/ Luke-Acts: Models tor Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. 1988 Calling lesus Names: The Sodal Value o/Labels in Matthew. Foundations and Facets. Social Facets. Sonoma, CA: Polebridge. Mansoor, Menachem 1971 "Sects, Minor." Encyclopedia ludaica. 14: 1087-90. Markus, R. A. 1980 "Th~ Problem of Self-Definition: From Sect to Church." pp. 1-15 in lewzsh and Christian Self-Definition, Voll. The Shaping 0/ Christianity in the Second and Third Centuries. Ed. E. P. Sanders. Philadelphia: Fortress. Meeks, Wayne A. 1972 "The Man From Heaven in Johannine Sectarianism." lBL 91:44-72. 1979 "'Since Then You Would Need to Go Out of the World': Boundaries in Pauline Christianity." pp. 4-29 in Critical History and Biblical Faith: New Testament Perspectives. Ed. Thomas Ryan. Villanova: The College Theology Society. 1983a "Social F~nctions of Apocalyptic Language in Pauline Christianity." pp. 687 -705. m Apocalyptidsm in the Mediterranean World and the Near East. Ed. DavId Hellholm. Tübingen: Mohr (Siebeck). 1983b The First Urban Christians. The Sodal World o/the Apostle Paul. New Haven: Yale U niversity . 1985 "B~eaking Away: ~ree New Testament Pictures of Christianity's SeparatIon from the JewIsh Communities." pp. 93-115 in "To See Ourselves as Others See Us." Christians, lews, "Others" in Late Antiquity. Ed. Jacob Neusner, E. S. Frerichs. Chico: Scholars. 1986 The Moral World o/the First Christians. Philadelphia: Westminster. Mil1er, Donald E. 1979 "Sectarianism and Secularization: The Work of Bryan Wilson." Religious Studies Review 5:161-74. Neyrey, Jerome H. "The Idea of Purity in Mark's Gospel." pp. 91-128 in Semeia 35: Soda 11986 Scientific Critidsm 0/ the New Testament and Its Sodal World. Ed. John H. Elliott. Decatur, GA: Scholars. An Ideology o/Revolt: lohn's Christology in Social-Sdence Perspective. 1988a Philadelphia: Fortress.
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"A Symbo1ic Approach to Mark 7." Forum 4:63-91. Paul, In Other Words. A Cultural Reading 0/ His Letters. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox. "The Symbolic Universe of Luke-Acts: 'They Turn the World Upside Down.'" pp. 271-304 in The Sodal World o/Luke-Acts. Models/or Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. "Ceremonies in Luke-Acts: The Case of Meals and Table-Fellowship." pp. 361-87 in The Sodal World o/Luke-Acts. Models/or Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson.
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Nisbet, R. A. 1953 The Quest/or Community. New York: ICS. Oakman, Douglas E. 1986 lesus and the Economic Questions 0/ His Day. Studies in the Bib1e and Ear1y Christianity 8. Lewiston, NY: The Edwin Mellen Press. 1991 "The Countryside in Luke-Acts." pp. 151-79 in The Sodal World 0/ LukeActs. Models/or Interpretation. Ed. Jerome H. Neyrey. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. O'Dea, Thomas F. 1968 "Sects and Cults." pp. 130-36 in International Encyclopedia o/the Sodal Sciences, Vo114. Ed. D. L. Sills. New York: Macmillan. Overman, J. Andrew 1990 Matthew's Gospel and Formative ludaism. The Sodal World o/the Matthean Community. Minneapo1is: Fortress. Rensberger, David 1988 lohannine Faith and Liberating Community. Philadelphia: Westminster. Rowland, Christopher 1985 Christian Origins. An Account 0/ the Setting and Character 0/ the Most Important Messianic Sect 0/ ludaism. London: SPCK. Rudo1f, Kurt "Wesen und Struktur der Sekte. Bemerkungen zum Stand der Diskussion 1979a in Religionswissenschaft und Religionssoziologie." Kairos 21 :241-54. "Gnosis - Weltreligion oder Sekte (Zur Problematik sachgemässer 1979b Terminologie in der Religionswissenschaft)." Kairos 21:255-63. Seland, Torrey "Jesus as a Faction Leader. On the Exit of the Category 'Sect.'" pp. 1971987 211 in Context. Ed. P. W. Böckman, R. E. Kristiansen. Trondheim: TAPIR. Schlier, Heinrich TDNT 1:180-86, art. "aipeop.m etc."
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Watson, Francis 1986 Paul, ludaism and the Gentiles: A Sociological Approach. SNTSMS 56. New York/Cambridge: Cambridge University. Weber, Max 1952 Ancient ludaism. Trans. and ed. Hans H. Gerth, Don Martindale. Glencoe, IL: The Free Press. Trans. ofGennan edition, 1917-19. 1955 The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit 0/ Capitalism. Trans. Talcott Parsons. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons. Trans. of Gennan edition, 1904-05. 1964 The Sociology 0/ Religion. Trans. Ephraim Fischoff. Boston: Beacon Press, 1964. Trans. of "Religions-soziologie." pp. 245-381 in Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft. Fourth edition, 1956. 1978 Economy and Society: An Outline o/Interpretive Sociology. Ed. Guenther Roth, Claus Wittich. 2 Vols. Berkeley: University of California Press. Trans. of Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft: Grundriss der verstehenden Soziologie. Fourth edition. Tubingen: Mohr, 1956. White, L. Michael 1988 "Shifting Sectarian Boundaries in Early Christianity." pp. 7-24 in Bulletin o/the lohn Rylands Library, Vol 70/3: Sects and New Religious Movements. Ed. Anthony Dyson, Eileen Barker. Wilde, James A. 1978 "The Social World of Mark's Gospel. A Word About Method." pp. 4770 in SBL 1978 Seminar Papers. Ed. Paul J. Achterneier. Missoula, MT: Scholars. Wilson, Bryan R. 1959 "An Analysis of Sect Development." American Sociological Review 24:315. 1961 Sects and Society: A Sociological Study o/the Elim Tabernacle, Christian Science, and Chn·stadelphians. Berkeley: University of California Press. 1970 Religious Sects: A Sociological Study. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson. 1973 Magic and the Millennium: A Sociological Study 0/ Religious Movements 0/ Protest among Tribai and Third-World Peoples. New York: Harper & Row. 1982 "The Sociology of Sects." pp. 89-120 in Religion in Sociological Perspective. Oxford: Oxford University. 1988 "Methodological Perspectives in the Study of Religious Minorities." Bulletin 0/ the lohn Rylands University Library 0/ Manchester 70:225-40. Wilson, Bryan, (ed.) 1967 Patterns 0/ Sectarianism: Organization und Ideology in Social and Religious Movements. London: Heinemann. Yinger, J. Milton 1970 The Scientific Study
0/ Religion. New York: Macmillan.
CHAPTER12 ELECTION, OBEDIENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY: DEUTERONOMY 30:2-14 IN ROMANS 9-11 AND THE WRITINGS OF PHILO Per Jarle Bekken Kristiansand
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Many problems are involved in the discussion of Paul's use of Deut 30:12-14 within its literary context in Rom 9-11. Is there a quotation? Did Paul intend Rom 10:6ff as an exposition of Deut 30:12-14 and was this intention c1early signalIed for his readers (Dunn)? Is Paul's interpretation of Deut 30:12-14 to be regarded as fanciful, crass, and arbitrary? In another artic1e I have attempted to answer these questions by locating Paul's use of the passage in its Jewish exegetical context (Bekken 1995). The conc1usion of this study was that Paul's exposition of Deut 30:12-14 can be placed within the framework of Jewish exegetical study and method. The present essay will approach Paul's use of this text with the following questions in mind: Are there reasons for Paul's choice and use of Deut 30: 12-14 which can be c1arified, justified, and explained from the application of this text in contemporary Judaism? Are there thematic para1lels and echoes between the application of this -text in contemporary Judaism, and Paul' s use of it that can explain a logic in Paul' s line of argumentation that has been lost sight of and which c1arifies the argumentative use of Deut 30:12-14 within its literary context? These questions should be answered in the affirmative. The view that will guide the present essay is that selected passages of Philo of Alexandria's writings provide a Jewish background and exegetical context for Paul's use, applic ati on , and argumentative use of Deut 30:12-14 within its literary context. I will ex amine the following common elements and perspectives from selected passages in Philo' s writings and Romans: 1. Law-obedience in eschatological perspective; 2. God' s election of J ews and Gentiles to become the true people of God; 3. Israel and the nations in eschatological perspective.
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The course of this study will first be to analyze the two texts selected from Philo's writings, and then to turn to an investigation of the relevant passages in Paul's letter to the Romans to ex amine how Paul, distinctively, has used and transformed this Jewish heritage on the basis of belief in Jesus Christ.
The EschatoZogicaZ Hope of BZessing for the J ewish Nation; Praem. 79-97 The literary context of Praem. 79-97 is briefly as follows: Praem. 79-172 is made up of the seetions on eschatologie al blessings (79-126) and eschatological curses (127-162), while the latter part is dominated by an outlook to the The final eschatological restoration of the Jewish nation (163-172). immediate context of Praem. 98-126 deals with the blessings of victory over human and natural enemies (85-97), wealth (98-107), a long and good life (108-117), and exemption of disease (118-126). Praem. 79-172 is mainly based on the sequences of blessings and curses in biblical covenant texts like Lev 17-26; Ex 23; and Deut 28-30 (Borgen). It is noticeable that, as in the law codes of the Pentateuch itself, Philo's exhortations to law-obedience are sandwiched between his exposition of the Mosaic 1aw code and its sanctions. In Praem. 79-84, Philo expresses the positive claim for law-obedience, which is a condition for the fulfillment of the eschatological blessings. The principle of the law is conveyed in Praem. 79 by an amplification of Deut 28:1 in the following way: "If, he says, you keep (cPvAa7T1JT8) the divine command in obedience to his ordinances (To'i~ 7rpOaTa-Y/lOlaL) and accept his precepts, not merely to hear them but to carry them out by your life and conduct (Cx.AAOt. OLOt. 7WV TOU ßiov 7rpa~8WV E7rLT8A1JT8) . . . . "
The function and aim of the law, that it should be done, is further repeated throughout Praem." (cf. §82, §98, §101, §108, §110, §119, §126). Thus, the aim of the whole seetion of Praem. 79-126 seems to be to exhort the Jews to follow the law in order to prepare for the inauguration of the eschatologie al age of blessings. The first eschatological blessing attendant upon adherence to the law is, in Praem. §79, taken to be the victory over the enemies. Philo's biblical bases for this idea are Lev 26:8 and Deut 28:7. I will return to this issue below. Praem. 80-82 (cf. "(ap in §80) demonstrates that Philo interpreted Deut 30:11-14 as a further elaboration on the principle of the law which came to expression in §79. He takes Deut 30:11-14 to refer to both the commandments of the law and to the law as "the good" (70 Cx."(0l8ov). By the reference to Deut 30: 11 about the commandments which are neither too huge nor heavy
BEKKEN: ELECT/ON, OBED/ENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY 317 for the strength of those to whom they apply, Philo will exhort to adherence to the law. The interpretation of Deut 30:14 about "the good" highlights the law to be very near. Philo's exposition of Deut 30: 14 in Praem. 80-82 serves to clarify the condition for the realization of the eschatological blessings: "the good" which is near in mouth, heart, and hand, representing in a figure word, thought, and action, will result in happiness and become a reality when these aspects of life mutually follow each other. The conditional form given to the exposition of Deut 30:14 seems to indicate that it is understood as a sort of rule of eschatological inauguration, which states the mode of participation in the eschatologie al blessings. In Praem. 82, Philo further connects his interpretation of Deut 30: 11-14 to the issue of a total carrying out of the law: Not only acceptance of the law by words is demanded, but one must "add thereto deeds which follow in their company, deeds shown in the whole conduct of our lives." In §§85-97, Philo develops the theme of victory over the enemies. The content of these latter paragraphs shall here just briefly be summarized: In §§85-92, Philo describes these enemies to be of two kinds, wild be asts and men. When men become what they should be, the beasts will be tamed and men will stay away from war with each other. In these passages, Philo seems to draw among other scriptures on the prophecy of Isa 11: 6-9. Then he proceeds, in §§93-97, by stating that war will either never come (cf. Lev 26:6) because the enemy will dissolve and fall to pieces when they recognize the virtues of the Jewish nation; or, if some attack, they will be defeated. The defeat can take place in various ways: The enemy will be forced back by the superior strength of the Jewish nation (cf. Lev 26:8 and Deut 28:7), §94. Some will flee due to fear caused by the military leader, §95. In this context, Num 24:7 is quoted and elaborated on: For there sha1l come forth a man, says the orade, and leading his army and doing battle, he will subdue great and populous nations, because God has sent to his aid the reinforcement which befits the godly, and that is dauntless courage of soul and all-powerful strength of body, either of which strikes fear into the enemy and the two if uni ted are quite irresistible.
Thus, the "messianie" prophecy about "a man" is a natural and integral element in Philo's interpretation of the blessings of the Law of Moses, and not an alien element in his exegesis and in his expectations for the future. As the eschatological emperor of many nations, the "man" carries the features of the Messiah, in accordance with the messianie interpretation of Num 24:7 elsewhere in Judaism (Vermes:159; Meeks:71-72; Neusner:241~247; Borgen.: 356). Philo's reference to Num 24:7 LXX, in this context, must be seen in light of its use in Mos. 1 :290 and within the context of passages as Mos.
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1:149; 155-157; 217 which interpret the universal roles of Moses's kingship and the Hebrew nation. According to these texts, Moses was made king in a nation which represented the nueleus of the whole world and was destined to be victorious over the nations in war. Thus, when Philo draws on Num 24:7 LXX, he pictures a Hebrew emperor who will bring the universal charge of Moses's kingship and the Hebrew nation to complete fulfillment: "There shall come from you one day a man, and he shall rule over many nations and his king dom spreading every day shall be exalted on high" (Mos. 1 :290). Other enemies are described as unworthy to be defeated by men, and these will be conquered by swarms of wasps (cf. Ex 23:28; Deut 7:20), Praem. 96. In Praem. 97, Philo coneludes that the Jewish nation, besides the victory, also will gain ruling power over enemies after the war. A catalogue of three virtues: dignity, strictness, and benefaction is then listed to characterize the quality of the Jewish nation which makes the other peoples obedient to them as rulers. This expectation of the Jewish nation as the future world rulers of all nations is found elsewhere in Philo's books (cf. Mos. 1:289291), and comes also to expression later in Praem. 125 by the thought that the Hebrew nation shall become head of the other nations (Borgen 1992).
Conversion Within the J ewish Nation and as Proselytism; Virt. 183-186 It is interesting that Philo, in Virt. 183-186, applies the same notion and
method of conversion to both Gentiles and Jews. The eloser literary context of Virt. 183-186 is as follows: The wh oie section 175-186 on conversion is divided in the delimited units 175-179; 180-182; and 183-186. The opening paragraph 175 states, as the main heading of the section, that Moses exhorts everyone everywhere to be zealous for piety and justice, and that he offers to the repentant fellowship/membership in the best of commonwealths. In 177182, Philo deals with the conversion of Gentiles to Judaism. This conversion is described in two steps and consists of three aspects: The first and basic step of conversion treats religious conversion from pagan polytheism to Jewish monotheism, 177-179. The second step deals with the social conversion from a pagan community to the Jewish community. However, according to Philo, this step also me ans an ethical conversion from a pagan life-style to a Jewish life-style in accordance with the Law of Moses, 180-182. Then in 183-186, Philo adds a third and final form of conversion which is extended to embrace both Gentiles and Jews; i.e., the conversion from discord to the realization of the true people of God.
BEKKEN: ELECTION, OBEDIENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY 319 The theme of this conversion is stated in 183 in the same form of contrast "from-to" as in the preceding context. The use of this contrast form outlines the different ·aspects and stages between paganism and Judaism. The central theme is specified as a transformation of life from disharmony to a better and changed condition. Disharmony is illustrated by the description of various aspects of paganism and J ewish dis order in 177-182. In 183, it is shown that Moses's instruction is addressed to the aim of conversion of Gentiles and Jews in Philo's own time. The content of Moses's teaching is presented in the form of an exegetical paraphrase of Deut 30:11-14. This exposition is structured in the following three poirits: The words from Deut 30:11-14 are rendered with interpretative supplements: He teIls us that the thing is not overgreat nor very distant, neither in the ether far above nor at the ends of the earth, nor beyond the great sea, that we should be unable to receive it, but very near, residing in three parts of our being, mouth, heart and hands, thus symbolizing words and thoughts and actions, for the mouth is a symbol of speech, the heart of thoughts and intentions, the hands of action, and in these three lies happiness.
This interpretation will emphasize that the conversion from discord to a better and changed condition is not distant, but is near by. In 184, the symbolic int~rpretation of the triad and unity of mouth, he art and hands from Deut 30:14 is developed in the form of three conditional elauses. The first two elauses state the conditions of the contrasts in the theme: "For when thoughts correspond to words and actions correspond to intentions, life is praiseworthy and perfect, but when they are at strife with each other, it is imperfect and a matter for reproach." The thirdconditional elause explains the consequence of the fulfillment of the condition of unity among words, thoughts, and actions: "If a man does not forget to keep this harmony, he will be well-pleasing to God, thus becoming at once God-Ioving and God-beloved." In similarity with the text from Praem. 80, the conditional form given to the exposition of Deut 30: 14 seems to suggest that it is beheld as the mode of participation in the people of God. The interpretation of Deut 30:11-14 is rounded off and supported by a quotation of Deut 26:17-18: "And so in full accordance with these words there was given from above the good saying 'Thou hast chosen today God to be God to thee, and the Lord has chosen thee today to be a people to Hirn.'" In 185-186, Philo elaborates further on this reciprocal choice as taken by the individual within the collective and God, a choice which makes each single man God' s people.
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The purpose of Deut 30:11-14, within the context of Virt. 175-186, can . be highliglited to clarify the following aspects: The application of Deut 30 to Jews, penitents, and Gentiles shows that it has the function of drawing the line from conversion from paganism to Judaism to the conversion within the Jewish nation. When 183ff is seen within the broader framework of the main heading of 175, the use of Deut 30 presents the content of Moses' teaching on membership in the best of commonwealths; i.e., the Jewish nation, according to the Law of Moses. The reading of Deut 30 in line with Deut 26: 17-18 shows that Deut 30 serves the intention of clarifying the choice taken to make a conversion from discord to become the true people of God.
Paul's Use and Application 0/ Deut 30:12-14 Within the Context 0/ Rom 9:30-10:21 There is a commonly-held view that Paul, in Rom 10:5-8, sets two texts from the Torah, Lev 18:5 and Deut 30:12-14, in antithesis to each other, both of which emphasize the necessity of keeping and acting according to the law; both using, in the Greek translation, the same verb (7rOL8'iV). Lev 18:5: You shall observe my institutions and my laws: the man who keeps (7I"OL-qUO!l;) them shall have life through them.
Deut 30:12-14: It is not in heaven, that you should say, "Who will go up for us to heaven, and fetch
it for us, that we may hear and do (7I"OL-quop.ev) it?" Nor is it beyond the sea, that you should say, "Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us, and fetch it for us, that we may hear and do (7I"OL-quop.ev) it?" The word is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do (7I"OLeLv) it.
·1: \
The former Paul takes as a description of "the righteousness which is from the law," and the latter as a reference to "the righteousness from faith, " "Christ," and "the word of faith." Prevailing opinion is that this exegesis of Deut 30: 12-14 not only seems startling to a modern reader, but it must even have startled Paul's first audience (Hays:74). Why should Paul choose two texts that, in their original contexts, could be placed together to characterize two contrasting attitudes, two different conceptions of righteousness? A comparison of Praem. 79ff with Romans 10:4ff makes it clear that both passages expound Deut 30:12-14 in terms of the law from an eschatological· perspective. Such use of Deut 30:12-14, as illustrated by Philo, I
BEKKEN: ELECTION, OBEDIENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY 321 consider to be an important part of the referential background, which probably has determined Paul's appeal to both Lev 18:5 and to Deut 30: 12-14. Paul's use of Deut 30:12-14 must be seen within the argumentation of Rom 9:30-10:4, which amounts to a complete reversal of the way in which Israel, in general, had understood the eschatological relevance of its law. In a similar way to Philo, Paul also focuses on the law as a way of participation in the eschaton. According to 9:30-:-32, Israel pursues righteousness, which implies salvation for Israel by the law: 'IupOl.qA 58 5LWKWV vop.ov 5LKOlwulwy/<; ei<; vop.ov OVK ecp()Oluev.
5Lf:L Ti;
ön OVK BK 7I"LUrew<; CiAA' 0.1<;
B~ ep"{wv
... but Israel who pursued the law of righteousness, did not attain the law. Why not? Because (it sought to attain the law) not from faith, but as if (it could be attained) from the regulations.
These words designate the problem of Israel, that is, its conception of the law.. Israel missed the nature of the law. Israel has failed to attain the eschaton because she tried to attain the law as if it could be reached by the regulations of the law. The law could be reached only on the basis of faith. Thus, 9:31-32 also implies a dialectic of the law which Paul needs to explain. The inauguration of the eschatological age implied a transformation of the law. In Rom 10, we can find that Paul explains this dialectic conception of the law on the basis of its transformation in light of Christ. In this chapter, Paul makes his point that the failure to make the response of faith to Christ is the main factor which explains the exclusion of the main body of the Jewish nation from the company of those who are being saved. Paul starts from the fact that the Jews have not been wrong to seek to establish their righteousness, but they have not taken into account the consequences of the eschatological Christ-event with respect to the law. For "Christ is the r8Aoc; of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes" (10:4). It is not necessary to decide between the claims of abolition or goal to be the meaning of TeAOC; in this context. Surely both meanings are implied. In Rom 10:5ff, he proceeds to prove this thesis from scripture. In a corresponding way to Philo, Paul interprets Deut 30:12-14 eschatologically in terms of the law. In Praem. 79-98, Philo interpreted Deut 30:12-14 in terms ofthe law within the eschatological perspective of blessing for the Jewish nation~ The realization of the eschatological blessing was conditioned upon total obedience to the Law of Moses which encompassed words, thoughts, and deeds. In a similar way, Paul refers to this principle of the law, which states that for the law to be the means of salvation it is necessary that it should be kept. The underly-
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT
ing principle of the Law of Moses is that "the doers of the law will attain salvation" (Rom 2:13). This is expressed by quoting Lev 18:5 as scriptural support for the statement of the righteousness of the law in Rom 10:5: MwVafk 'Yap 'Ypaq,8L 7~V DLKCl.LOaUVTJV 7~V BK 70V VOJ1.0V apOpW7rOe; Na87C1.L BP Cl.U70Le;.
ön 0
7roL~aCl.(; Cl.U7a
Moses writes that the one who does (0 7rOL~aCl.e;) them [sc. the regulations (7a 7rpOa7a'YJ1.Cl.7C1.) and statutes (7a KpLJ1.Cl.7C1.) of the law] shalllive by them.
This concept of righteou"sness and the law maintained by the main body of Israel is, in light of the eschatological age inaugurated by Christ, inappropriate for the new concept of righteousness by faith and the law. When 9:31-32 is read with 10:4-5, the following picture emerges: Israel pursues the law in its narrowest sense as the law based on regulations of the Sinai code which need to be done. Now, by the inauguration of the eschatological age, this law is abolished by Christ. In this sense, Christ is the end of the law. In this way, Israel is not updated with the religio-historical situation. Christ's coming requires a different way of obtaining righteousness and that is faith, not a life according to the principle of the Law of Moses. So he then produces, in 10:6-10, a new understanding of righteousness and the law which holds good in the new dispensation by an exegetical paraphrase of Deut 30:12-14. This paraphrase has the form of an interpretative rendering of the text (Rom 10:6-8), followed by a further elaboration of the interpretation in the form of a conditional dause (10:9) and a rationale (10:10; the words from the Old Testament are underlined): 10:6: 17 oe BK 7ria78we; OLKCl.LOaUPTJ OV7We; A8'Y8L,
M~ 8r7r11e; BP
7n KCl.pOLQ! aov, TLe;
apCl.ß~a87C1.L 8ic; 70V OUPCl.VOV; 70V7' eanv XpLa70P KCl.7C1.'YCI.'Y8LP:
10:7: 71, Tie; KCl.7C1.ß~a87C1.L eic; ~P aßvaaop; 70U7' eanp XpLa70P BK P8KPWP aVCI.'YCI.'Y8LP • 10:8: aAAa 71. A8'Y8L; 'Eyyue; aov 70 p-ijJ1.a Banp Be; 7i/J a7oJ1.Cl.7L aov KCl.t BP 7V KCl.poLQ! aov, 70U7' eanv 70 P-ijJLCI. 7-ije; 7ria78we; Ö KTJpUaaOJ1.8P.
10:9: ön Bap 0J1.0Ao'Y~al1e; BP 7i/J a7op.Cl.7L aov KUPLOP 'I17aouv KCl.t 7rW78Uape; BP 7V ön 0 080e; Cl.U70P 71'Y8Lpev BK P8KPWV, awO~O'(/:
KCl.pOLCI. aov
10:10:
KCl.poLQ! 'Yap 7rLa78U87C1.L 8ic; OLKCl.LOaUPTJP, a7op.Cl.n oe 0J1.0AO'Y8L7C1.L 8ie; aW71JpLCl.v.
we preach); because, if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised hirn from the dead, you will be saved. For man believes with his heart and so is justified, and he confesses with his lips and so is saved.
Several comments need to be made on this passage. First, the way Paul takes Deut 30:12-14 in Rom 10:6ff as a reference to "the righteousness of faith," "Christ," and "the word of faith," and sets it in contrast to Lev 18:5, makes it probable that he presupposes a use of Deut 30:12-14 in continuity with the principle of the law similar to the one attested to by Philo. While Philo sees the principle of the law and Deut 30:12-14 in agreement with each other within the framework of a total obedience to the law with mouth, heart, and works, Paul sets the principle of the law and works (Lev 18:5) in contrast to Deut 30:12-14 and the obedience of mouth and heart. Paul's rationale for doing this is the statement in 10:4 that Christ is the end of the law. Thus, Paul intentionally interprets the passage with a meaning wbich is appropriate as a result of Christ's ending of the principle of the Law of Moses. Secondly, christological interpretation of Deut 30:12-14 makes it dear that Paul intended to explain the continuity between Christ and the law. In Deut 30:12-13, Paul selects phrases which suggest that the law might need to be fetched from heaven or from across the sea, so as to become accessible and capable of being put into practice. In each case, he supplements this rendering of the text with glosses which apply it to Christ. This method of replacing a word from the Old Testament text, which in this case refers to the law, with interpretative words - here with a substitution of Christ for the law - requires an agreed hermeneutical principle: What is said of the law can, and should, be said of Christ. This is exactly the hermeneutical principIe which is stated and established in Rom 10:4 by the expression that Christ is 'TeAO~ vOJlov (telos of the law). Tbis is obviously the rationale for both the contrast Paul draws between Lev 18:5 and Deut 30:12-14 and the equation he makes between Christ and the law. In tbis way, Paul can argue that the righteousness of faith and Christ does not annul the entire law, but is in continuity with the law and brings it to its true goal (cf. 3:31). An important parallel, which can illustrate Paul's exegetical reasoning and treatment of scripture in Rom 10:6-7, is provided by the paraphrase of Deut 30:12-13 within the context of Bar 3:9-4:4. The paraphrase of Deut 30:12-13 appears in Bar 3:29-30 (the words from the biblical text are underlined): 3:29: TLe; ap8ßTJ eie; 70P OUPCl.POV KCl.t BAaßTJP Cl.U7~P
But the rightoollsness based on faith says, "Do not say in your heart, 'Who will ascend into heaven?'" (that is, to bring Christ down) "or 'Who will descend into the abyss?'" (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead). But what does it say? "The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart" (that is, the ward of faith which
KCl.t KCl.78ßißCl.a8P Cl.U7~P BK 7WP P8q,eAwv
3:30: Tie; OL8ßTJ 7r8pCl.V 7-ije; OCl.Aaaar,e; KCl.t 8VP8V Cl.U~V KCl.t Ora8L Cl.U7~P xpvaLov BKA8K70V
--
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Who has gone up into heaven and taken her, and brought her down from the c1ouds? Who has gone over the sea, and found her and acquired her with choice gold?
In a corresponding way to Paul, the use of Deut 30 is characterized by selective citation, alteration in vocabulary, and additional complementary statements. Thus, the writer has conformed the Deuteronomic material to a new, specifically wisdom context. For example, in Bar 3:29, in the place of the Deuteronomic purpose c1ause, the verbal idea of "taking it" has been supplemented by the sequential activity of "bringing" wisdom "down from the c1ouds." In 3:30, the Deuteronomic verb "take her" likewise has been changed to "find her." Moreover, in light of the immediate context, in which the author reproaches Israel for deserting and not seeking wisdom (cf. 3:12; 20-22; 31), it is apparent that the author has taken aV711v in Deut 30:12-13 not to refer to the commandment, but to Wisdom. The point of the allusion to Deut 30:12-13 appears to be stated in the following verse: Israel had no reason to set out on a search for Wisdom, since it was already available "for God gave it to Jacob his servant and to Israel whom he loved" (3:36). At the conc1usion of the prose, wisdom is identified with "i] ßißAO<; TWV 7rpooTa-Yl.uxTWV TOU Beou KaI. b VOJLO<; b V7rapXWV ei<; TOV aiwva" (the book of the commandments of God and the Torah endures forever). Thus, Bar 3:29f echoes Deut 30:12-13 to make the point that God's Wisdom is accessible and near at hand in the law. This is the c10sest Jewish parallel that shows that Paul's christological use ofDeut 30:12-13 can be placed within a Jewish context, and that the abuse that has been heaped on Paul for his treatment of this passage is not justified. So, having made the christological application of Deut 30: 12-13 explicit, and having pointed out that Christ does not have to be fetched from heaven or brought up from the abyss, Paul next quotes Deut 30: 14 in order to emphasize the nearness of the word of the law in the mouth and in the heart and the observance it calls for. According to Paul, the "word" of Deuteronomy is equated with "the word of faith" (Rom 10:8). Thus, the word that was always near to Israel in the law is now, in the eschatological age, near as the word of faith in the Christian kerygma. Furthermore, this implies that the word of the law has been transformed from being a commandment that invites to obedience in terms of deeds, to being the word of the law that asks for obedience in terms of faith. Romans 10:9-10 amplifies further the content of this obedience to faith and sets it in an eschatological perspective:
BEKKEN: ELECTION, OBEDIENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY 325 10:9: ÖTL BaV oP.OA0-yTJOTIe; BV TCiJ UTOJ.l.CtTL uov KVPL01I 'I1]uov1I KCtt 7rLUTeVOV~ B1I rfj KCtPOLCt uov ÖTL 0 ()eoe; CtuTOV 7J-yeLpev BK VeKpW1I, uW()TJOV: --
10: 10: KCtPOLCt -yap 7rLUTeVeTCtL eie; OLKCtLOUVJl1]JI, UTOJ.l.CtTL UWT1]PLCtV ••••
oe
op.oAo-yel.TCtL Bie;
. . . because, if you confess with YOUf lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised hirn from the dead, you will be saved. For man believes with his heart and so is justified, and he confesses with his lips and so is saved.
In a corresponding manner as Philo, Paul here interprets Deut 30: 14 within a form that describes the conditions of entering the eschaton (cf. the protasis which is introduced by eav and verbs with an aorist subjunctive, and the apodosis in the main c1ause in the future in 10:9), when approached in light of the Christ-event. The deeds element of the law was terminated by Christ, though not the requirement expressed by Deut 30:14 that men both should and could be obedient to God by mouth and heart. Accordingly, the inauguration of the eschaton and participation in the eschatological salvation was dependent on law-obedience; however, not in terms of regulations and deeds according to the Law of Moses as presupposed in Israel's attitude to the law (Rom 9:31; 10:3; 10:5) and illustrated by Philo, but in terms of faith in Christ (9:30-33; 10:6ff). Participation in the eschatological salvation was conditioned by obedience to the gospel by mouth and heart, which Paul expounded to mean to confess the lordship of Christ and to believe in Christ' s resurrection (10:9-10). In this way, the gospel was proc1aimed on a scriptural basis as a condition for admission to the gifts of the inaugurated eschaton (Rom 10:9, 15).
God's Eschatological Election 0/ lews and Gentiles in the One People 0/ God Philo's use of Deut 30:12-14, within the context of Virt. 183-184, provides a contemporary J ewish exegetical context and conceptual framework against which Paul's argumentative use of Deut 30: 12ff should be placed, and which makes Paul's reading more understandable. I shall now focus on some important points of resonance between the exegetical contexts of Deut 30: 1214 in Romans and in De Virtutibus, which enables the hearing of some intertextual echo es of an applied scripture in both texts. From Virt. 183ff, it has been seen that Philo's dealing with Deut 30: 1214 is placed within the broader framework of the theme of membership in the true people of God. There, Deut 30:11-14 was rendered as Moses' teaching on conversion with the aim to c1arify the aspects of how to be a true people of
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God chosen by God. The people of God are those who have chosen God to be their God and whom God has elected, whether from within the Jewish nation or from the Gentiles who had become proselytes. As noted earlier, the interpretation ofDeut 30:11-14 was rounded off and supported by a quotation of Deut 26:17-18, and in 185-186, Philo emphasized further this reciprocal choice as taken by the individual within the collective and God, and which makes each single man God' s people. In a corresponding way, Pau1's application of Deut 30:12-14 to the theme of righteousness by faith shows that it is connected to the theme of membership in the people of God, as thöse whom God has called,· both from Jews and Gentiles. An overarching theme in Rom 9:6-11:10 is God's election of his people. The fundamental thesis, which is elaborated in 9:6-29, is stated in 9: 6-7: "Not all who are of Israel, are Israel; neither are all children because they are Abraham's descendants." These statements convey that membership in the people of Israel does not, eo ipso, imply membership in Israel as the community of the true Israel which receives the promise. Membership in Israel as the community of the true Israel is based solelyon their call by God who made the promise (9:12), and whose call goes forth again and again. In Rom 9:7-13, Paul shows that the selection and election within Israel is prefigured in the history of Israel by the appeal to the scriptural testimony regarding Isaac and Ishmael (9:7-9) and Jacob and Esau (9:10-13). The former represent the Israel whom God has called and elected, while the latter represent the Israel whom God temporarily has placed outside the true Israel. In the remainder of Rom 9, Pau1' s point is to argue that God acts in the same way in the present. This is confirmed by the statements in Rom 9:24ff and 11 :5ff, which explain how God acts in the present as in the history of the people, as the one who sovereignly elects and rejects. God does so now in that he calls only a remnant within Israel (9:27), while the others stumble (9:32f). In 9:24-26, Paul c1arifies that this election also inc1udes Gentiles, which are outside Israel, but in the present together with Jews are called into the people of God. In 9:30-33, Paul makes a provisional summary of the contemporary situation. The Gentiles have embraced the righteousness that sterns from faith; whereas, that part of Israel which does not belong to the remnant has not reached the goal it pursued, namely, righteousness based on the law (9:31). E. P. Sanders has noticed that the question of "righteousness by faith, not by Law" must be seen as apart of the discussion of membership in the people of God (Sanders: 43). How did Gentiles enter and become part of the people of God? How did Jews and Gentiles become the people of God? Who belongs to Israel? In 9:30-10:21, Paul develops further the answers to these questions, but now turns to the effect of the coming of Christ on the constitu-
BEKKEN: ELECTION, OBEDIENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY 327 tion of that people. This means that Paul's use of Deut 30:12-14 must be set within the context of the question of who has righteousness, and on what basis it is attained, and as part of the overarching question of membership in the people of God. The eschatological Christ-event meant, for Paul, a re-drawing of the boundaries between the people of God and other peoples. For Paul, the life and membership of the people of God was still, indeed, defined by righteousness bound up with observance of the Jewish law, but no longer restricted to a response in terms of worksaccording to the law (what he calls "their own righteousness," Rom 10:3), but rather in terms of faith in Christ. This righteousness of faith is what historical Israel apart from the faithful remnant has missed, and what those Gentiles who have turned to Christ in faith have found. Israel missed it because of her mistaken belief that it depended on the law as she understood it. They were anxious to be the true people of God, but their method was mistaken (10:2). The righteousness defined by the law was, indeed, the criterion of deciding who belonged to the true people of God (cf. the line of thought in Rom 9:6-30). However, according to Paul, the majority of Israel had been ignorant of the correct way to pursue the true righteousness of God. Instead, they had pursued their own righteousness based on their own conception of the law according to the Law of Moses (9:31-32; 10:3). Pau1's use of Deut 30: 12-14 is part of his explanation of the relationship between the law and Christ, with respect to attaining the righteousness and membership now called for by the inauguration of the eschatological age. According to Paul, the source of this righteousness was always near to Israel in the law, but now in the eschatological age was near as the word of faith in the Christian kerygma (10:6; 10:10). This implied, to Paul, that the righteousness based on adhering to the law written by Moses (10:4-5) now was terminated and replaced by the righteousness by faith in Christ. In a corresponding manner as Philo, Paul interprets Deut 30:14 as a condition of entering the righteousness and the membership of inc1usive Israel. Only those who have faith in Christ can enter and belong to the people of God, for Christ is the fulfillment of what the law aimed at (10:4; 10:10). To Gentiles this meant that taking up the law did not inc1ude inc1usion in the J ewish nation, but rather inc1usion in the inc1usive Israel as the true people of God comprised of Jews and Gentiles. Faith in the Christ, rather than the observance of the commandments of the law, becomes the essential mark and foundati?n of entering and belonging to the people of God. The consequence of this is the break-down of the barriers between Israel and the nation and room for plurality within the people of God. Thus, Paul transforms the notion of the people of God, in light of the Christ-event, to encompass Jews and the
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other nations. Within this people of God is Israel the nucleus, and the Christian Gentiles are seen as proselytes which need not become Jewish. The basis for this transformation is that Christ has modified the law as the foundation of how to live as God's people. It corresponds with this that Paul declares that there is no distinction between J ew and Greek, and that the people of God is now characterized as the people of God comprised of J ews and Gentiles who invoke and worship Christ (10:12-13). In this regard, Paul's use of Deut 30:12-14 is at the center in this attempt to explain the transformation of the people of God from anational J ewish community into a cross-national community, and the constitutive conditions for belonging to this inclusive community. At the same time, his use of Deut 30: 12ff is included in his line of argumentation to explain why not all Jews belong to Israel (9:6) and are outside the community of the true people of God, while Gentiles are included (9:24ff; 9:30; 10:11-13). It is noteworthy that Philo could let Deut 30: 12ff refer to Gentiles, penitents, and Jews who were in the process of becoming the true people of God. Such a reference seems to be an important referential background for Paul' s applicati on of the same scripture to Gentiles and Jews with regard to the theme of righteousness.
Israel and the Nations in an Eschatological Perspective N. A. Dahl has observed that an overarching unity among the many varied, and often conflicting, Jewish eschatologie al perspectives was provided by the common faith in the one God, the God of Israel and the whole world, who had given the law, and would keep His word and do what he had promised (Dahl:389). The divergent "messianic" ideas operated within this framework. Furthermore, the expectations were normally derived from scriptural promises and predictions, or supported by passages which were assumed to refer to some person whose coming they announced. Dahl' s observations also obtain with regard to both Philo and Paul's eschatological perspectives in which their use of Deut 30 can be located. Both Paul and Philo locate their use of Deut 30:12-14 within a corresponding eschatological framework, which means the realization of the promise of God given in the law to his people. The promise of the inauguration of the eschaton compromises Israel and the nations, and the concept of a royal emperor and world ruler. While Philo' s idea of a future world emperor was warranted by the Pentateuch, Paul's scriptural basis of "Messiah" was mainly the predictions of the former and latter prophets, and the Psalms of a Davidic Messiah.
BEKKEN: ELECTION, OBEDIENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY 329 In Praem. 79-98, Philo interpreted Deut 30:12-14 in terms of obedience to the .law within the eschatological perspective and promise of blessing based on Lev 26 and Deut 28, with a quotation of Num 24:7 included. The eschatological inauguration and participation in the eschatological blessings were conditioned on obedience to the Law of Moses. According to Philo, the first eschatological blessing of the Jewish nation would be the conquest of the nations and, if necessary, this goal would be accomplished through "the man" as commander in chief according to the prophecy in Num 24:7. Without using the term "Messiah," Philo looks for a messianic figure to come in the form of "a man" who is seen as a final commander in chief, who will bring the kingship of Moses to its complete fulfillment as the ruler over mankind, and as emperor of the Hebrew nation as the head of the nations (Praem. 79; 95-97). At the time Paul wrote the letter to the Romans he was confronted with a deep theological problem. The problem arises when the situation with the faith of the Gentiles, and the unbelief of the Jews, is confronted by the valid and binding records of God's words and promises in: the holy scripture of Israel. According to Paul, the Jews have an advantage over the Gentiles: The gospel was promised beforehand to them in the scriptures , which already announced the promise of righteousness made manifest and available in Jesus Christ (1:2; 3:21-22). In Rom 9-11, Paul particularly addressed this problem. In that case, Rom 10:1-21 and his interpretation of Deut 30:12-14 served as an explanation of why Israel, at the present time, is excluded from the salvation; whereas, Gentiles have found it. We can presuppose, with some confidence, that Paul assumed that the eschatological age had been inaugurated by the resurrection of Christ. The appearance of Jesus as KVPWC; (10:9) meant that now the time had come when the realization of the hope of a Hebrew ruler over the nations should take place (1: 5; 15: 10). As the apostle of Christ to both Jews and the nations (Rom 1:5; 10:15; 11:13ff), Paul regarded hirns elf as sent to announce the gospel and its promise of salvation to both the Jews and all the nations. As I proposed above, Paul, in a corresponding way as Philo, still read Deut 30:12-14 in terms of the law and obedience to the law as a condition of eschatological accession, when approached in light of the Christ-event. Paul took Deut 30:14 to refer to the "word of faith," i.e., the gospel, of which he and other Christi ans were spokesmen (10:8). Accordingly, participation in the eschatological salvation was conditioned by obedience to the gospel by mouth and heart, which Paul expounded to mean to confess the lordship of Christ and to believe in Christ' s resurrection (10: 9-1 0). In this way, the gospel was proclaimed with the scriptural basis of Deut 30:12-14 as the mode of participation in the eschatological salvation (Rom 10:8, 15).
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Having established that salvation is purely a matter of faith in Christ, which is the obedience the law now calls for, Paul proceeds in Rom 10:14ff to show that the opportunity for this obedience has been provided by the apostolic preaching. At the time of writing Romans, Paul presupposed that the eschatologie al goods of salvation had been offered, through the gospel, to Israel (cf. Rom 10:16, 18). Accordingly, they have had the possibility to respond positively to the gospel, and thus to get a share in salvation. Instead, Paul had been witness to the fact that the overwhelming majority of Israel, despite its advantages, had proven to be disobedient to the gospel and, therefore, outside the salvation (10: 16; 10:21); while the Gentiles, representing all the nations, had proven to be faithful and, so, open for the salvation (10:1920). The Gentiles had become participants in the messianie salvation at a time and in a way contrary to all expectations, not as a consequence of the liberation and victory of the people of Israel over the nations, but before Israel, herself, had attained her salvation. For Paul this did not mean that God's promise of salvation was taken from Israel and given to the Gentiles, but only that the order of the events has been reversed. The universal perspective and the dichotomy of the relationship between Israel and the nations also remains in the eschatological perspective throughout Rom 11. The present rejection of the gospel by the J ews is here interpreted, by Paul, to be a phase which will lead eventually to the salvation of "all Israel." Besides, Paul argues that the acceptance of the gospel by the Gentiles makes them agents in the realization of God's plan and promise to Israel, which were expected to encompass both Israel and the nations.
BEKKEN: ELECTION, OBEDIENCE, AND ESCHATOLOGY 331 Works Consulted Bekken, P. J. 1995 "Paul's Use of Deut 30:12-14 in Jewish Context." pp. 183-203 in The New Testament and Hellenistic Judaism. Ed. P. Borgen, S. Giversen. Aarhus: Aarhus U niversity. Borgen, P. 1992
Dahl, N. A. 1992
"There shall come forth a Man: Reflections on Messianie Ideas in Philo." pp. 341-62 in The Messiah. Developments in Earliest Judaism and Christianity. Ed. J. Charlesworth. Minneapolis: Fortress. "~essianic Ideas and the Crucifixion of Jesus." pp.382-403 in The Messzah. Developments in Earliest ludaism and Christianity. Ed. J. Char1esworth. Minneapolis: Fortress.
DuIin, J. D. G. 1988 Romans 9-16. Word Biblical Commentary 38B. Waco: Word. Hays, R. 1989
Echoes 0/ Scripture in the Letters 0/ Paul. New Haven & London: Yale University.
Meeks, W. A. 1967 The Prophet-King. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Neusner, J. 1984
Messiah in Context. Philadelphia: Fortress.
Sanders, E. P. 1983 Paul, the Law and the lewish People. London: SCM.
Conclusion In this essay I have argued that Paul, by his use of Deut 30:12-14,_ was trying to explain to Roman Christi ans how J ews and Gentiles had switched roles in the election of God within categories that were common and understandable in contemporary Judaism. A location of Paul's use of Deut 30:12-14 in its J ewish context makes it likely that his argumentation would have resonated with a Diaspora audience of Jews, proselytes, and God-fearers and sounded like echoes of an applied scripture in their ears.
Vermes, G. 1961
Scripture and Tradition in Judaism. Leiden: Bri11.
CHAPfER13 THE ROLE OF THE CONGREGATION AS A FAMILY WITHIN THE CONTEXT OF RECRUITMENT AND CONFLICT IN THE EARLY CHURCH Karl Olav Sandnes Lutheran Theological Seminary, Hong Kong
Introduction Any reader of the NT, as well as of other Early Christi an literature, will notice the frequency of family vocabulary, or inc1usive language. The believers called themselves "brothers and sisters" (&osAc/>oL) , and even considered their fellowship a brother- and sisterhood (c/>LAcxoSAc/>SUX) or household (oIKoc;) (Verner 1983). The frequency with which the term &OSAc/>OL, correctly rendered "brothers and sisters," appears in Paul 's letters, in particular, is so obvious that references are hardly necessary. q?LACXOSAc/>SLCX appears five times in the New Testament (1 Thess 4:9; Rom 12:10; 1 Pet 1:22; 2 Pet 1:7; Heb 13:1). oltcoc; and its cognates appear e.g. in Eph 2:19-22 and Gal 6:10 (Banks:52-61; Allmen 1981; Sandnes 1991; 1994). Although family terms far exceed those of friendship (c/>LAoC;, eTcxLpoc;) in the New Testament, this distinction is not to be urged. To be reckoned as someone' s friend in antiquity was to be part of his household (Wilhelm:170-173; Dirlmeier:7-21; cf. Acts 10:24-27 and 11:14 taken together). Robert J. Banks' s evaluation concerning the family terms in the NT may be quoted with approval: "So numerous are these, and so frequently do they appear, that the comparison of the Christi an community with a 'family' must be regarded as the most significant metaphorical usage of all" (53). Furthermore, according to Banks, "all these (terms) are quite c1early not merely relationships in name only, in some purely theological or superficially pious sense, but relationships of a very genuine and personal kind" (56). The Christians were not alone in antiquity in conceiving of themselves in terms of a family. Nonetheless, the scale and frequency with which this happens in Christi an sources hardly has any correspondence in antiquity (Bömer:546553; Branick: 16-17). The Early Christian congregation, spoken of in this general way, can therefore be labelled "family-like." "Family-like" should be preferred to a
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simple "family," since a comparison between congregation and family in antiquity is necessarily somewhat complex. Concerning household roles within the congregation, to take one significant example, the sources leave us with a tension between, on the one hand household churches, in which it is likely that traditional roles were more or less maintained, and on the other the· congregation as a new kind of family visualized, e.g., in Mark 3:31-35 par and Gal 3:28. The aim of this paper is to consider the role of this family-like congregation within the context of recruiting adherents.
The Role of Christian Fellowship Studying the role of the family-like congregation within the context of recruitment provides an opportunity to focus attention on how the community attracted members by forming an inviting and welcoming fellowship. The Christian fellowship attracted people by living according to the standards of Christian ethics. The New Testament draws attention to the extensive sharing and caring practiced by Christians (Harnack:147-198). This may be illustrated very simply by Luke' s generalizing summary of life in the Jerusalem church (Acts 2:42-47). I would suggest that the mentioning of conversion (2:47), which here follows the presentation of the sharing and caring fellowship, is due to how converts were quite often attracted to the Christian fellowship. It is also worth noticing that the verse preceding this section (2:41) speaks of conversion. Thus Luke's summary is framed by conversion-sayings. This is, in fact, an important perspective on the ethical instructions found in the New Testament (e.g. Matt 5:16; 1 Pet 2:12; 3:1-6; Tit 2; Sandnes 1988): the Christian way of life attracted new converts. This fact may easily provide adefinition of the conflict involved in the recruitment of the Early Church. The conflict is then easily defined as personal distress or dissatisfaction with life as it is; in other words, the social and personal unrest of people in antiquity. This is the perspective of the c1assical work of Arthur D. Nock. The role of the Christian fellowship is then seen in the light of people looking for peace of soul. This perspective on the recruitment and conflict in Early Christi an mission has been further developed by scholars applying theories of social compensation. Wayne A. Meeks suggests: We may further guess that the sorts of status inconsistency we observed - independent women with moderate wealth, lews with wealth in a pagan society, freedman with skill and money but stigmatized by origin, and so on - brought with them not only anxiety but also loneliness, in a society in which social position was important and usually rigid? Would, then, the intimacy of the Christian groups become a welcome refuge, the emotion-charged language of family and affection
SANDNES: THE ROLE OF THE CONGREGATION AS A FAMILY 335 and the image of a caring, personal God powerful antidotes, while the master symbol of the crucified savior crystallized a believable picture of the way the warld seemed really to work (191; cf. p.21; also Fiorenza 1983:145-151, 182-183)?
Meeks uses this model to explain why someone joined the Christian fellowship. The assumption is that this fellowship offered an answer to the social situation the converts faced be fore they embraced the Christian faith. The need for compensation is there before, and independent of, the Christi an preaching. This is also the basic assumption of John H. Elliot's major study on 1 Peter, AHorne for the Horneless. He argues that those who adopted the Chiistian faith were "strangers in society long before their adherence to the Christi an sect" (131). Their adherence to a Christian congregation, in fact, aggravated the estrangement, which was there already, independent of their conversion. Although theories of social compensation may offer some help in understanding the recruitment in Primitive Christianity, "the link between Christianity and victims of worldly oppression was neither simple nor obvious" (Fox:317-318).1 In answering the question why some. joined the Christian fellowship, the social stratification of the Early Church has to be taken into account. Considering this will cast some doubt upon general theories of social compensation. For this reason I will here concentrate on another conflict involved. Embracing the Christian faith and joining the movement brought a number of converts into conflict with their families. If we think of the conflict involved in terms of a situation caused by the conversi on itself, then also the role of the congregation has to be seen in another perspective within the context of recruitment. Instead of focusing on the attractiveness of the congregation, I will therefore emphasize its role in the process of keeping the converts in the faith. This perspective brings us very elose to the theory of conversion suggested by the sociology of knowledge (Berger and Luckmann). ln a conversion, it is of primary importance to keep on taking it seriously. It is, according to this theory, in the context of a fellowship that faith will remain. The maintenance of the conversion is dependent upon a community, a fellowship in which the new identity is made plausible. They argue that a conversion will persist or succeed in a social setting which, in its basic structure, resembles the family: a family-like congregation. In a family-like fellowship, the recent convert is likely to find "significant others," persons holding an established position within the congregation. The recent convert can depend on, and identify with, these per-
IA critique against the use of simple compensation theories has also been advanced by Holmberg: 131-133.
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sons (Berger and Luckmann:149-182). The fellowship joined by the recent convert should then, according to this theory, resemble the setting of primary socialization; that is, the upbringing of children within a family. What now follows will suggest that the way of life in Early Christianity was family-like, and therefore that arecent convert could here find the sheltering horne he or she needed. The New Testament is not very rich on information conceming the conflicts caused by joining the Christi an movement. The indications should, however, be read with some imagination as weIl as sociological insight. If texts such as Matt 10:34-35; 1 Cor 7:12-16 and 1 Pet 3:1-6 are read with some lighting from the back - that of other Early Christi an literature (e.g. Justin Martyr's 2.Apology 2; Tertullian's Scorpiace 9; Ad Nationes 1.4; Clementine Recognitones II.29; VI.4; Coyle), the general attitude towards the Christi ans by pagans in antiquity (e.g. Contra Celsum II1.55; V1.53; Lucius Apuleius's The Golden Ass IX; Croix), and also experiences in today's mission (Seppo Syrjänen)2 - we will have to conc1ude that persons in a subordinate position embracing the Christi an faith without the consent of their master, father, or husband faced many difficulties in a society where they were very much dependent upon the support of these leading family figures; in other words, the support of the family. W riting this in a Chinese context, on the very day of the Ching Ming festival, the celebration of our dead ancestors, brings to my mind very clearly that worship in antiquity was closelY connected to the household; religion was a family affair. Wachsmuth is right in saying that "gerade im Hauskult trifft man auf die praktizierte, die lebendige antike Religiösität" (50). As areminder of the conflicts recent converts often faced, Plutarch's famous counsel from Advice to Bride and Groom will suffice: A wife ought not to make friends of her own, but to enjoy her husband's friends in common with him. The gods are the first and most important friends. Wherefore it is becoming for a wife to worship and know only the gods that her husband believes in, and to shut the front dOOf tight upon a11 queer rituals and outlandish superstition. For with no god do stealthy and secret rites perfonned by a woman find any favour (191140D; further references, Sandnes 1994:26-31).
It is quite natural, and, in fact, widely attested that conflicts arose from this and similar attitudes (see above). In the form of dramatic narratives this
2This study applies Berger and Luckmann's theory on conversion to the situation Pakistani Muslims face when they join a Christian congregation. Syrjänen observes that for a number of reasons the ideal of a welcoming family~like congregation quite often failed to appear.
SANDNES: THE ROLE OF THE CONGREGATION AS A FAMILY 337 is found in the apocryphal Acts of the Apostles, which, although legendary, nevertheless present patterns of conversion and family conflicts in Primitive Christianity (Kraemer 1980). People facing this kind of conflict needed a sheltering and caring fellowship, some even looked for the congregation to replace the social security and welfare they used to enjoy as members of a family. To consider whether there was a potential for responding to this need and expectation among some of the converts is the task for the following section. This perspective demands some connecting links in terms of social life between family in antiquity and the family-like congregation. In the recent study of Kla~s Schäfer (1989) this is, in fact, questioned by· his contrasting the model of oIKoc; and qnAa.oeAc/>eLa.. While "household" represents the patriarchal model of fellowship, "brotherhood" represents the egalitarian model which materialized in Early Christianity. It is difficult to clarify the relationship between family in antiquity and the family-like Christian fellowship. But in contrasting these two models so sharply, Schäfer is practically denying basic structures suggested by the fact that conversion of pater familias, the head of households, quite often marked the starting point for a Christian congregation.
Christian Fellowship in Acts 2:42-47 In order to argue for the plausibility of a potential for responding to the need of converts, Luke's summary of Christian fellowship in Acts 2:42-47 will now be presented as a case-study. It is not the aim of this paper to present an exegesis of this text, but to highlight some aspects connecting Luke's summary to descriptions of family life in antiquity. Objections may weIl be raised against using this summary in order to reconstruct a piece of Early Christian history . The summary is necessarily general, and it also gives a somewhat harmonious picture of life within the Jerusalern church. This text, therefore, cannot be considered as representing the typical life-style in the Early Church. It is, however, in this context a useful text for the purpose of pointing out some basic ideas of Christian fellowship which were, in fact, to a large extent implemented and put into practice (Sandnes 1994:136-143). It is now my aim to show that Luke's presentation (cf. Acts 4:32-35) is due to the common standards of family and friendship relationships in antiquity (see also Mitchell). The presentation of these standards in contemporary philosophy was aimed at influencing the daily life among family-members. So it is also with Luke's summary regarding the believers. Luke's presentation is hardly less trustworthy than writings in antiquity on family-life; both represent an ideal hoping it will have some impact upon real life, and both are partial des-
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criptions of how things really were. Both stand on the borderline between ideal and reality. According to Luke' s summary, life in the J erusalem church was characterized by the members' ongoing devotion to the instruction of the apostles, to fellowship (KoLPwPLa), to breaking bread, and to prayers. The following description makes it abundantly clear that this fellowship involved more than verbal togetherness. Spiritual and material aspects are joined together in Luke's presentation. The word KOLPwPLa holds an important position in this presentation. It refers to the fellowship which was conditioned by, and resulted from, the pooling of resources as weIl as "from the sharing of these goods (cf. Acts 2:44 and 4:32). KOLPwPLa and its" cognates were often, in antiquity, connected with relationships within a household. Brothers and sisters, parents and children, husbands and wives, and friends - all of these relationships are characterized by this terminology (e.g. Plutarch's On Brotherly Love 2/478D; 5/480C; Xenophon's Oeconomicus VII. 11-13; Aristotle's Nichomachean Ethics VIII. 10:4; IX.12:1). This means that we are invited by this key-phrase to consider Luke's summary from a family-like perspective. This will now be provided by means of three observations: 1) The Christian fellowship was intimately associated with private houses. Besides the daily visit to the Temple, the Jerusalem Christi ans regularly gathered in private houses. In order to understand the identity of Early Christi ans as forming a distinct group, we should lay emphasis on the housegatherings. The characteristic meeting-pI ace of the Christi ans was private houses (Acts 5:42; 8:3; 18:7). In the phrase KaT' olKoP (2:46), the preposition should be taken as a distributive in the same sense as in 15:21 ("in every city") and 20:20 ("from house to house"). This clearly indicates the significant role of private houses, and thereby, households. The role of the house-churches grew in importance as the Christi an movement developed outside Jerusalem. 3 Luke teIls in Acts ab out the conversion of heads of households (11: 14; 16:15, 31-34; 18:8). This usually formed the starting point for a housechurch, as can be seen in Acts 16:15 taken together with 16:40. The conversion of Lydia, with her household, originated a community in her house. This information given by Luke is certainly trustworthy since it corresponds generally both to Pauline statements (Rom 16:3-5; 1 Cor 1:16; 16:15.19; Col 4:15; Phlm 2; Gielen:77-84) as weIl as to basic structures of paternal solidarity in antiquity. In light of the family-oriented society in which Primitive Christianity took root, it is quite conceivable that households and private
3The literature on house-churches is enonnous; it will suffice here to mention Klauck 1981, 1992 and Branick.
SANDNES: THE ROLE OF THE CONGREGATION AS A FAMILY 339 hornes played a significant role. This material points to a historical and social ba~is for the frequent use of kinship language in Primitive Christianity. The social setting of kinship language was households which were turned into house-churches, extended families enjoying a household-based fellowship. Out of the household arose some of the most significant structures that shaped the course of the Christian's life. This holds true even though the Christian communities also introduced other structures as weIl, sometimes even structures conflicting with tra~itional household structures. They, therefore, appeared as a new kind of family as weIl, where egalitarian structures can be traced in the midst of traditional hierarchical ones. This tension should not be dismissed when attempting to reconstruct the life structures of Primitive Christianity. A tension between these conflicting structures is, from a historio-social point of view, quite likely. This tension should not be dissolved by theories of a decline in patriarchal structures (Contra Fiorenza 1983b).4 For the recent convert, who was more or less lost to his biological family, the household character of the Ear1y Church meant a possibility of satisfying the needs caused by the conversion itself. This observation concerning the ro1e of house-churches encourages us to continue our reading of Luke's summary along family lines. 2) Luke' s description implies that Christians spent a lot 0/ time together. This is indicated by the grammar of this passage: the conjugatio periphrastica in 2:42, as weIl as the number of verbs in the imperfect tense - in an iterative sense referring to continued or repeated action. FinaIly, the emphasis on their frequent meetings B1rL TO aUTO indicates the same. All this leaves Luke's reader with the clear impression that the Christi ans enjoyed staying together, and therefore, naturally, spent time together. The ideal of good family relationships, including those with friends was exactly this: a sharing of house, time and meals. Strabo, the Geographer, defines friendship as "eating together at the same table, drinking libations together, and lodging under the same roof' (Strabo, Geography IX.3:5). Friendship and family relationships are described as living together (Aristotle, Nic.Eth. VIII. 6:4; IX.9:10; 12:2; Plutarch, On Brotherly Love 5/480B; 19-20/490D-F; Cicero, Amicit. 4/15). Eating together, practicing sport or philosophy together that is the ideal; in short, to spend time together. This was, of course, demanding. We, therefore, find sayings that warn people that it is possible only to have a limited number of friends (Plutarch' s On "Having Many Friends 2-4/93F-94F; Cicero, Amicit. 5/20).
4A1though Fiorenza has ~ghtly called attention to the henneneutical challenge posed by the presence of both structures within the New Testament, her historical reconstruction is one-sided and fails to be convincing.
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Cicero, in his writing on friendship gives a vivid picture of this kind of friendship. Laelius here speaks of his friend Scipio who has passed away: There was one horne (una domus) for us both; we had the same fare and shared it in common, and we were together not only in our military campaigns, but also in our foreign tours and on our vacations in the country. Why need I speak of our constant devotion to investigation and to leaming in which, remote from the gaze of men, we spent all our leisure time (Amidt. 27/103-104)1
This text emphasizes the sharing in terms of time as well as interest between friends, and this even to the extent of sharing horne. Not to wonder that this is dose to how Luke speaks of members of a household. In the parable of the so-called Prodigal Son, he describes the relationship between the father and his eIder son in a similar way: "you are always with me" (Luke 15:31). All of this sheds light on the role of meals, which is emphasized in Luke' s summary. These meals probably were celebrations of the eucharist also, and probably served to feed the needy among the believers as weIl (cf. Justin, 1.Apology 67). They were signs of afamily-like gathering. This is suggested both by the household as the setting for these meals, and by Luke's way of applying the ancient world' s ideal of sharing within friendship and family relationships. The recent convert who needed satisfaction for the losses in terms of family relationships joined a fellowship where, according to Luke, the family-ideal of staying together was put into practice. 3) The sharing characteristic of the church, according to Luke, is presented with the help of a proverbial saying commonly attached to describe life within a family or between dose friends: KeiL elxov ä.7rCXVTCX KOLva ("and they had all things in common" Acts 2:44; cf. Acts 4:32). In Luke's summary, it refers to the sharing of resources which made it possible to care for the needy. That this was the purpose of this saying is dearly seen from Acts 4:32-35. Luke presents this sharing and caring life-style as "generalized reciprocity"; that is, transactions that are putatively altruistic, actions of help and assistance offered without expectation of any return. According to sociologist Marshall Sahlins, all kinds of economic exchange - at least in a society where welfare is mainly left for the individual to care for - is dependent on the social relationship between those involved. The economy is embedded in social relations. "Generalized reciprocity" is the form for exchanging resources found among members of a primary group; that is, family-like groups. This is exactly what Luke intends to say by applying the common proverb of "having all things in common." The list of attestation for this proverbial saying is very long indeed (Pesch:184-185, 188-189; Sandnes). Two references - one in Greek and one in Latin - will do here:
SANDNES: THE ROLE OF THE CONGREGATION AS A FAMILY 341 To whom is everything judged to be common (KOLVCx elvOlL ä7rO!VTO!), body, soul, and possessions, except man and wife (Musonius Rufus XIV. 8-9)1 5 . . . everything shall be regarded in the light indicated by the Greek proverb: 'Among friends all things in common (amicorum esse communia omina)' (Cicero, De Officiis 1.51).
We noticed above that the concept of "staying together" was part of the family-concept in the parable of the Prodigal Son. The proverbial saying of a family-like life-style is echoed here as well. The father is saying to the eIder son "all that is mine is yours" (Luke 15:31), which should be taken as a version of the common proverb mentioned above. In fact, the concept of staying together and having all things in common form one saying of the father in this parable; a saying indicating the dose family relationship between the two figures in the parable. The concept of staying together, as weIl as that of sharing resources is, as has been pointed out, related to family as weIl as to friendship relationships. In Acts, however, the theme of kinship or brotherhood far exceeds that of friendship. This is seen in the fact that while ~fAO~ is used three times, &öeA~6~ is used 57 times. In Luke's Gospel, however, ~iAO~ is used 15 times. The distinction between family and friend, which a modern reader will assurne, should not be emphasized. Luke is patterning the Christian fellowship on the ideal of family and friendship relationships in antiquity. Sharing between family and friends was, in antiquity, supposed to take place among people of equal standing. The literature on friendship emphasizes that "friendship is equality" (Cicero, De Ojficiis 1.56 and 58; Dio Chrysostom, Orat. 17:9-10; Aristotle, Nic.Eth. VIII.5:5). Friendship marked the exchange of resources among equals; it was a sharing kept within social boundaries. According to Luke, the sharing among the Christi ans is taking place among people of une qual standing. The whole perspective of Luke-Acts is that of crossing boundaries, social as weIl as ethnic. This is the proper context for interpreting Luke' s use of friendship and family traditions. The sharing between friends of equal standing Luke extends across social boundaries as achallenge for people of different status and race to live a sharing life together.
Luke and Common Family Concepts in Antiquity The interpretation of Luke's saying about common property and sharing has been dominated by the quest for the historical reliability of this piece of 5The text is quoted from C. E. Lutz, Musonius Rufus: "The Roman Socrates." Yale Classical Studies 10, New Haven: Yale University; London: Oxford University, 1947.
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information: was this really carried out? It is obvious that Luke's "having all things in common" is not a simple description of the social situation as it could be observed. On the other hand, this saying should not be neglected in a historical consideration either. Just as in antiquity in general, Luke's saying refers to an ideal that aimed at being translated into action, but which was also based upon a life pattern that was partly experienced in the family in antiquity as weIl as among Christians. This assertion calls for some substantiation. I· will here restrict myself to briefly mentioning how the pagan satirist, Lucian of Samosata (150 CE), saw the Christi an fellowship from outside. In his writing, The Passing 0/ Peregrinus, he presents in his typical satirical way, the Christi ans , sharing and caring for the converted charlatan Peregrinus while in prison (Peregr. 11-13). He makes it quite c1ear to his readers that this sharing life-style was based upon the Christians ' conviction of forming a fellowship of brothers and sisters, and therefore considered all their resources as common property (a7raV7WV KOLva). Lucian points out that in describing the Christians' caring for Peregrinus, he is presenting the way these people usually acted towards each other. This made it easy for people like Peregrinus to exploit this fellowship. In Lucian's presentation of the Christian fellowship we recognize one element from Luke's summary, the proverbial saying of how family-members live together. Seen from the perspective of Lucian, this is not an idealized saying, but a saying about how the Christian fellowship looked to hirn as an outsider. 6 Looking at it from the outside, he links their sharing to the concept of brotherhood. There is not the slightest hint of criticism or ridicule in this. What he ridicules is the nalvete with which they practiced this concept (Sandnes 1994: 171-175). Conc1uding our observations on Luke's summary, we have seen that those who embraced the Christian faith joined a family-like fellowship. Luke makes this c1ear by mentioning households as the social setting of this fellowship, and also by presenting basic elements of its life-style with the help of comrnon concepts of family and friendship relationships in antiquity. Just as with the ancient world's model of how family life should be, Luke's summary stands on the borderline between ideal and experience.
SANDNES: THE ROLE OF THE CONGREGATION AS A FAMILY 343 The Success
0/ the Family-Like Congregation
Wehave pointed out that for a number of converts their conversion caused difficulties within their families; some were even abandoned and suffered loss of this basic unit. It is reasonable to assume that this situation stimulated the communities to fulfill the needs of some of their converts. On the other hand, we have seen that, at least according to Luke, converts joined a familylike group. They were welcomed by a fellowship aiming at a family-like lifestyle. In a household-based church it is likely that recent converts found new primary "influencers" or "significant others." The domestic setting of Early Christianity made it possible to build personal relationships on which the convert depended. In other words, the converts joined a fellowship with the potential to ameliorate their situation, and to satisfy some of their los ses in terms of family. These two observations should now be brought together with the help of Berger and Luckmann's theory on conversion. According to their theory, the crucial point for keeping to the conversion and making it a lasting attitude, is a linkage between conversion, or convert, and a family-like group. If Luke's summary is compared to descriptions of family-life in antiquity, this link is c1early found. The role of the congregation, within the context of family conflicts caused by conversion itself, was to practice a familylike li fe-style and to welcome all converts into it, thereby forming an extended and new kind of family. The growth and development of Early Christianity might be an indication that they really succeeded in this.
Works Consulted If not stated otherwise, all texts from antiquity are referred to according to the editions of Loeb Classical Library.
von Allmen, Danie1 1981 La Famille de Dieu, La Symbolique Familiale dans le Paulinism. OBO 41. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Banks, Robert J. 1980 Paul's Idea o/Community: The Early House Churches in Their Historical Setting. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.
6In his response to my paper at the Trondheim Symposium, 0yvind Norderval rightly pointed out that Christians providing for the prisoners was not only a matter of altruism. It was a means of keeping a vulnerable group together, vis-a-vis society, in general as well; see Brown:261-262. This boundary-making aspect is found in the c10sing of Lucian's presentation of the Christians' caring for Peregrinus: final1y he was expelled from the community.
Berger, Peter L. and Thomas Luckmann 1972 The Social Construction 0/ Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology edge. Harmondsworth: Penguiil Books.
0/ Knowl-
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Bömer, Franz 1957
Untersuchungen über die Religion der Sklaven in Griechenland und Rom [. Abhandlungen Geistes- u. sozialwissenschaftl. Klasse Nr. 7, Mainz, Wiesbaden: Verlag der Akademie d. Wissenschaften u.d. Literatur.
SANDNES: THE ROLE OF THE CONGREGATION AS A FAMILY 345 Holmberg, Bengt , 1990 Sociology and the New Testament: An Appraisal. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress.
Branick, Vincent P. 1989 The House Church in the Writings of Paul. Zacchaeus Studies: New Testament. Wilmington: Glazier.
Klauck, Hans J. 1981 Hausgemeinde und Hauskirche imfrühen Christentum. SBS 103. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibel werk. 1992 Gemeinde zwischen Haus und Stadt, Kirche bei Paulus. Freiburg, Basel, Wien: Herder.
Brown, Peter "Late Antiquity." pp. 239-311 in A History of Private Life, Voll: From 1987 Pagan Rome to Byzantinum. Ed. Paul Veyne. Trans. A. Goldhammer. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard U niversity.
Kraemer, Ross S. 1980 "The Conversion of Women to Ascetic Fonns of Christianity." Signs 6:298-307.
Coyle, J. Kevin 1981 "Empire and Eschaton: The Early Church and the Question of Domestic Relationships." Eglise et Theologie 12:35-94.
Lutz, C. E. 1947
Croix, Geoffrey E. M. de Ste. "Why were the Early Christians Persecuted?" pp. 210-49 in Studies in 1974 Ancient Society. Ed. M. Finley. London and Boston: Routledge and Kegan Pau!.
Meeks, Wayne A. 1983 The First Urban Christians: The Sodal World ofthe Apostle Paul. New Haven, London: Yale University.
Dirlrneier, Franz 1931 Philos and Philia im vorhellenistischen Griechentum. München: Salesian. Offizin. (Diss.) Elliott, John H. 1981 A Homefor the Homeless: A Sociological Exegesis of 1 Peter, Its Situation and Strategy. Philadelphia: Fortress. Fiorenza, E. Schüssler 1983 . In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins. New York: Crossroads. 1983b '''You are not to be Called Father': Early Christian History in a Feminist Perspective." pp. 394-417 in The Bible and Liberation: Political and Social Hermeneutics. Ed. Nonnan K. Gottwald. New York: Orbis Books. Fox, Robin Lane 1987 Pagans and Christians. New York: Alfred A. Knoph. Gielen, Marlis 1990
Tradition und Theologie neutestamentlicher Haustafelethik, Ein Beitrag zur Frage einer christlichen Auseinandersetzung mit gesellschaftlichen Normen. BBB 75. Frankfurt an Main: Anton Hein.
von Harnack, Adolf 1972 The Mission and Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries. Gloucester: Peter Smith.
Musonius Rufus: "The Roman Socrates." Yale Classical Studies 10. New Haven: Yale University; London: Oxford University.
Mitchell, Alan C. 1992 "The Social Function ofFriendship in Acts 2:44-47 and 4:32-7." JBL 111:255-72. Nock, Arthur D. 1933 Conversion: The Old and New in Religionfrom Alexander the Great to Augustine of Hippo. Oxford: Oxford University. Pesch, Rudolf 1986
Die Apostelgeschichte (Apg 1-12). EKK 5. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Benziger/Neukirchener.
Sahlins, Marshali 1974 Stone Age Economics. New York: Tavistock. Sandnes, Karl O. 1988 " ... 'et liv som vinner respekt,' Et sentralt perspektiv pä 1 Tim 2:1115." Tidsskriftfor Teologi og Kirke 59:97-108. 1991 '''Legemet og lemmene' hos Paulus, Belyst ved antikke tekster om Philadelphia." Tidsskriftfor Teologi og Kirke 62:17-26. 1994 A New Family: Conversion and Ecclesiology in the Early Church, with Cross-Cultural Comparisons. Studies in the Intercultural History of Christianity 9. Frankfurt an Main, Bem, New York, Paris: Peter Lang. Schäfer, Klaus 1989
Gemeinde als 'Bruderschaft', Ein Beitrag zum Kirchenverständnis des Paulus. EHR XXIll/333. Frankfurt an Main, Bem, New York, Paris: Peter Lang.
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Sytjänen, Seppo 1987 In Search of Meaning and Identity: Conversion to Christianity in Pakistani Muslim Culture. Vammala: The Finnish Society for Missiology and Ecumenism. Vemer, David C. 1983 The Household ofGod: The Sodal World ofthe Pastoral Epistles. SBLDS 71. Chicago: Scholars. Wachsmuth, Dietrich 1980 "Aspekte des antiken mediterranen Hauskults. " Numen 27:34-75. Wilhelm, Friedrich 1915 "Die Oeconomica der Neupythagoreer Bryson, Kallikratidas, Periktione Phintys." Rheinisches Museumftlr Philologie 70:161-223. '
CHAPfER14 FAMILY-LIKE CARE AND SOLIDARITY AS A PATTERN OF SOCIAL CONTROL IN THE ANCIENT CHURCH ff)'vind Norderval Universitet i TromsRJ
Introduction
I have been given the task to be the respondent to the paper of Karl Olav Sandnes, a task I undertake with pleasure because his paper takes important and interesting questions about the Early Church into consideration. I intend to fulfill my task by following twoJines: I shall, in part, discuss the general features of the family-concept and partly I shall also - since Sandnes mainly is analyzing the traditions found in Acts, and my field basically is the patristic period of the Ancient Church - add some further perspectives to those found in his paper. I agree with Sandnes in his statement that the 'family-like fellowship of the Christi an congregations played an important role in early Christianity, both as a general pattern of the Christi an ethos and as an important element in recruitment by giving people who had cut the family ties, a family-like care. There are a lot of texts from the post-apostolic era until Constantine that partly confirm his thesis. Unfortunately, however, we don't know so very much about the house churches and the development of their liturgical and daily use, neither through archaeology nor through texts (see Klauck). One may presuppose, that when the number of the church members increased and the liturgy developed, it was impossible for the whole congregation to meet in . an ordinary private house. There must then have been built special rooms reserved for the cult in bigger private houses, and later on entire houses must have been rebuilt solely for cultic use. This change may have occurred as early as the second century. But the agape, separated from the eucharist, still played an important role in private househoids for some time. However, in a specific group of texts we find important literary sources for the understanding of Christianity as a religious and social fellowship characterized by a family-like solidarity: in the acts of the martyrs. They give a c1ear picture of social conflicts and of Christian solidarity, for example, the Martyrdom 0/ Perpetua and Felicitas: The young Perpetua who wanted to be
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baptized and join the Christian fellowship was arrested together with some other Christi ans . While they were under arrest her father, out of love for her, was trying to persuade her and shake her resolution, confronting her with her family ties: "I cannot be called anything other than wh at I am, a Christian, " she said to hirn. And her father was so angered by the word Christi an that he moved towards her as though he would pluck out her eyes. But he left it at that and departed, the story teIls, vanquished along with his diabolical arguments. Perpetua then gave thanks to the Lord that she was separated from her father, and she was comforted by his absence. But her father came back and overwhelmed her with his sorrow. He started tearing the hairs from bis beard and threw them on the ground; he then threw hirnself on the ground and began to curse bis old age and to say such words as would move all creation. But the young Christi an woman only remarks that she feIt sorry for her father' s unhappy old age (Passio Sanctorum Perpetuae et Felidtatis 3 ff. and 9; Musurillo: 108, 116). In the Martyrdom 0/ Saint Pionius we hear ab out a young woman, Sabina, who was bound and cast out on a mountain by her pagan mistress, but here she received sustenance secretly from the Christi an brethren who tried to free her from her social ties, and she moved into the house of a fellow Christi an (Musurillo:146). We hear ab out Christians who tried to take care of their fellow Christi ans in prison, often showing a remarkable courage. They bribed the soldiers to allow their brothers and sisters in the Lord to move to a better part of the prison (Passio Sanctarum Perpertuae et Felidtatis; Musurillo:l08). In the Martyrdom 0/ k{ontanus and Ludus it is said that it was easier to endure the torments through the consolation of their visiting fellow Christians: "We were comforted by the visits of our brethren. The consolation and the joy of the day removed all the agony we endured at night" (Passio Sanctorum Montani et Ludi; Musurillo:216). Some were arrested when bringing food to the confessors and brought to the judges as . traitors (Eusebius, De mart. Palest. 10; Lawlor and Oulton:376). Cbildren born in prison were brought up by Christian women (Passio Sanctarum Perpetuae et Felidtatis 15; Musurillo: 124). Christi an men acted like fathers and protectors, and showed themselves, as it were, as guardians or patrons of destitute orphans and unprotected widows and the outcast poor and siek (Eusebius, De mart. Palest. 11; Lawlor and Oulton:390-391). In another martyr story the author triumphantly ridicules the Roman authorities on account of the brotherly solidarity among the Christians: Weil, now pagans, do you still believe that Christians, for whorn awaits the joy of etemal light, feel the torments of prison or shrink frorn the dungeons of this world? . .. Go seek out for their torture sorne secret and hidden spot, the grirn terrors of a rnurky cave, the very horne of darkness: still no place is loathsorne for those who trust in God, no hour is gloorny. Dedicated as they are to God the Father, their
FAMILY-LIKE CARE AND SOLIDARITY 349 brothers care for them by day, and Christ by night as weil (Passio Sanctorum Mariani et Iacobi 6; Musuri110:200).
When a brother or sister had been executed they recalled the memory of the faith and the contest of the martyrs (Passio Sanctorum Martyrum Fructuosi Episcopi, Auguri et Eulogi Diaconorum 6; Musurillo:182). In the night they hastened to the place of execution to gather the bodies or the ashes of the martyrs (Musurillo: 182). But we also hear about the brotherly responsibility and care among those in prison. They consoled each other (Passio Sanctorum Martyrum Fructuosi Episcopi, Auguri et Eulogi Diaconorum 4; Musurillo: 180) and often helped those who were sentenced on their way to the place of execution. They. were consoled by talking ab out what was going to happen to them (Passio Sanctorum Montani et Ludi 6; Musurillo:218). We are told that some preferred to fast be fore their martyrdom and thus provided their friends with food (Passio Sanctorum Montani et Ludi 21,12; Musurillo:218). One martyr might encourage the other: The one denied that the final death-blow hurt in order that the other, who was about to die, might be filled with more courage since he would not fear the slightest sense of pain in the final blow (Passio Sanctorum Montani et Ludi 21,5; Musurillo:234). In the Martyrs 0/ Lyon we read about the old witness Blandina and a boy of fifteen named Ponticus. They both went through harsh torments. Ponticus was encouraged by his sister in Christ so that even the pagans realized that she urged hirn on and strengthened hirn. After nobly enduring every torment, he gave up his spirit. Blandina was the last of all: Like a noble mother encouraging her children, she sent them before her in triumph to God, and then, after duplicating in her own body all her children's sufferings, she hastened to rejoin them (1,55; Musurillo:78). Martyrdom was not only seen as a witness before God, but also as an act of Christi an solidarity and brotherly consolation: In the Martyrdom 0/ Saints Marian and James the author teIls that he was bound to the two martyrs not only by their common sharing of the mystery of their faith, but also by the fact that they had lived together in a family spirit. T?e author says that the two wanted to communicate to their fellow Christians through hirn. It was not without reason that in their elose intimacy they laid upon him this task. They had shared a common life in the times of peace and in the period of persecution they lived in unbroken affection. The task of the author was to give witness to ordinary men who constituted God's people so that they might be given strength in the test of their faith by the sufferings of those who had gone before them (Passio Sanctorum Mariani et Iacobi 1 ; Musurillo:194). We also hear about the love and tenderness which the martyrs showed to their Christi an brothers: Though they could have built up the faith of their
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fellows without saying a word, by the mere example of their dedicated courage, still they made more extensive provisions for the perseverance of their brothers by giving them salutary exhortations (Passio Sanctorum Mariani et Iacobi 3; Musurillo:198). A young brother might say to his fellow prisoners before being executed: "My dearest brothers, hasten with all eagerness, with as much courage as you can, that it may be given you to see the Lord, and that he may reward you" (Acta Maximiliani 3; Musurillo:248). The Christi an love is the concrete care for the brethren: Honour love above all things; for it alone respects the bond of brotherhood by obeying God' s law. For the invisible God is revered in our brother whom we see. Our God and holy Saviour dec1ared to be brothers not those who shared a common nature, but rather those who were bound together in faith by good deeds and who fulf1l1 the will of our Father who is in heaven (Musurillo:358).
In many texts it is clearly underlined that the death of the martyrs did strengthen the unity among the Christian brothers and si sters .1 In spite of the fact that these texts are meant to be read as moral exhortations, they must represent a glimpse of areal Christian solidarity in times of persecution. So far, we have seen how the acts of the martyrs describe relations between Christians using family terminology. This strengthens Sandnes's main thesis. But there there are two problems with Sandnes's arguments. On one hand the paper lacks references tö theological perspectives among the early Christi ans on these questions. Is it possible to understand practice without the basic theory? And on the other hand, I have the impression that Sandnes glorifies this family-like fellowship and its harmony. To what extent did the brotherly and family-like care play a role in early Christianity? Was the brotherly love and unity the only impression that people outside the Church got of the ethos within it? And was the brotherhood always and exclusively caused by Christi an altruism? In fact, this very important critical question to the ancient Christi an sources has recently been posed by Peter Brown (1987).2 According to Brown, Christian solidarity in the Early Church reflects a regulation of the Christi an fellowship as an independent, but vulnerable social and religious group within a Jewish as well as a pagan context (260-61). This is part of very early ecclesiastical legislation. Christian care and love was a normative demand. The breaking of this basic rule had drastic consequences: punishment or expulsion. IE.g., Passio Sanctorum Martyrom Fructuosi Episcopi, Auguri et Eulogi Diaconorum 4,2: "Consolatus igitur fraternitatem; ingressi sunt ad salutem, digni et in ipso martyrio felices qui sanctarum scriptuarum fructum ex promissione sentirent. " 2Concerning the term singleness 0/ heart see also Brown 1988:35-37, 40, 69, 127, 358-359.
FAMILY-LIKE CARE AND SOLIDARITY 351 In this perspective I therefore find Sandnes' s reading of De Morte Peregrini of the pagan satirist Lucianos somewhat failing. He only refers to the first part of the text, where Lucianos teIls about the imprisoned charlatan Peregrinus, and his Christian brethren bringing hirn goods and food to such an extent that he became a wealthy man. But Sandnes does not mention the rest of the story, where a very important point is to be found. After being released from prison Peregrinus was expelled from the Christian fellowship. The congregation realized that Peregrinus was a crook (De morte Peregrini 16).3 Here we see the core of the self-understanding of the early Christi an Church as a religious group: The ideal was to fulfill the commandment of love towards God and one' s neighbor in singleness of heart. But to be singlehearted in solidarity doesn't only reflect an altruistic attitude. It also implied a denial of private life. Those who failed to live in this fellowship cut themselves off from the fellowship with God and their Christi an brethren. Or as Peter Brown puts it: "Shielded by negative privacy from the eyes of men, the heart was held to be totally public to the gaze of God and his angels" (1987:254). In the first century this view was based on the belief that God in his kingdom would put away the doubleness of he art which dominates the present world, and that this inner fellowship was to be anticipated within the Church as the true and living Israel. 4 The Church was the eschatological family, waiting for the parousia, and solidarity towards other institutions or groups was (or had to be) cut off. In this context the private person was totally dependent on the demands of the religious community. We realize this already in the sayings of Jesus that envisage a break with family ties among his adherents if necessary (e.g., Mt 10:35, 37; 15:5-6; Mk 7:12; 19:29; Lk 12:53). We realize it positively in Paul's vision of the one body of Christ across social differences (Rom 10:12). This was the ideal. The Church faced many social and moral problems because of the social mixture among 3But Sandnes is right in stressing the picture that Lucianos gives of the social care among the Christian "insiders." Lucianos gives a good example of their demand for solidarity: "The poor wretches have convinced themselves, first and foremost, that they are going to be immortal and live for all time, in consequence of which they despise death, and even willingly give themselves into custody, most of them. Furthermore their first "lawgiver persuaded them that they are all brothers of one another, after they have transgressed once and for all by denying the Greek gods, by worshipping that crucified sophist himself and living under his laws. Therefore they despise all things indiscriminately and consider them common property, receiving such teaching by [force of] tradition without any defmite evidence" (De morle Peregrini 13; see Frend:175-l77). 4The term brother in the Christian context was inherited from ludaism, originally characterizing the Jewish socio-religious fellowship. We see traces of this in Acts where the lews are called "brothers": Acts 2:29, 37; 3:17; 7:2; 13:15,26; 13:38 et al.
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its members. We may only read the letters of Paul to understand that. The early Church of the cities did not mainly consist of the many poor and the few rich. It mainly recruited among the middle dass, a dass which in the pagan society represented a segment of different values. For them solidarity was not a matter of course. I think that Peter Brown is right by saying: . . . the Christian churches in the cities depended on respectable and well-to-do households, members of which might welcome certain rituals of undifferentiated solidarity. But life in an urban environment, . . . could not be based upon . . . high moments. If singleness of heart was to survive in the Christian churches and be seen to survive befare a suspicious pagan world on the relentlessly public stage of everyday life in the city, it could survive only if caught in the fIxture of a group life consciously structured according to habitual and resilient norms (1985:259-260).
It was by this inner firmness that Christianity beca~e a moral force in the pagan world. The ideals were not new either in the Jewish or in the Graeco-Roman world, but the Christi ans really made a new social group with strong emphasis on these ideals of solidarity, at the same time confronting many tensions within the Church. This resulted in the demand for a strong moral discipline in a,ll fields of life in a tight knit group, in matters of economy, ~exuality, marriage, household and so on. It was a controlled life, a controlled solidarity, and I dare say, an over-controlled love. This was necessary in order to keep out undesirable immoral tendencies and to knit together this socially mixed and vulnerable group. The demands for almsgiving to the poor, for instance, were a good way of keeping them within the fellowship and to protect them from pagan creditors and employees (Brown 1987:261). These major perspectives on the need for an inner solidarity within the Church as a vulnerable social group got a further metaphysical basis through the belief in God' s judgment. If you break the solidarity you will not only be punished by the congregation, but worse, by God hirnself. They who fell became socially homeless; their social ties were once again cut. This was a dimension of the Christi an ethos that the pagan world must have observed. This dimension is a double perspective already present in the writings of the New Testament - both the exhortation to solidarity and the punishment of social disobedience. One of the explanations of Judas' betrayal in the gospels is explained by his behavior incompatible with group solidarity. He was a thief who used to enrich hirns elf by stealing from the common funds of the group, and at the end he enriched himself through betraying J esus. He was found not to be areal member of the fellowship, and consequently he was expelled. We recognize the same pattern in the story about Ananias and Saphira in Acts 5: 1-11. They lied concerning the amount of money which they brought to the church, and according to Acts, they both fell dead to the floor.
FAMILY-LlKE CARE AND SOLIDARITY 353 We also find these perspectives in the letters of Paul, where he is struggling against different manifestations of behavior lacking in solidarity.5 We find them in the acts of the martyrs, such as in the Martyrs 0/ Lyon: They were tormented with doubts about their confession of Christ; and it was not because they were afraid of the torments that might be applied, but it was with a view to the final outcome, fearing that some might fall away, and thus violate group solidarity (12; Musurillo:64). Again and again we read ab out martyrs who refuse to sacrifice: They know that the price of a sacrifice will be the judgment of God. 6 A very interesting and important text in this context is the Shepherd 0/ Hermas, dating from the first part of the second century. The Shepherd is one of the very early texts reflecting the possibility of penance after baptism, and the whole writing is based on the understanding of the congregation as a family-like community. Hermas describes a congregation in confusion and social decomposition. The Church of Rome was supported by rich and influential patrons with contacts to the pagan society, and this provided them protection and prestige. These rich influential Christians had a double loyalty, towards their mighty friends and business-contacts and towards the Church. Hermas had not only witnessed the doubleness of heart and the greed of these men, but also the double-hearted dealings among priests and prophets. In his visions he points out the family-like solidarity: Your seed, Hermas, have set God at naught, and have blasphemed the Lord, and have betrayed their parents in great wickedness, and they are all called betrayers of parents, and their betrayal has not gifted them, but they have added to their sins wanton deeds and piled up wickedness ... (6 ,2ft). They who have evil designs in their hearts bring upon themselves death and captivity, especially, those who obtain this world for themselves, and glory in their wealth . . . (1,8). 5See, for example, 1 Cor where Paul criticizes the abuse of the Holy Communion in an unsolidary way by filling oneself without respect for the brother and sister in Christ: "Haven't you got your own hornes in which to eat and drink? Or would you rather despise the church of God and put to shame the people who are in need ? . .. It follows that if anyone eats the Lord's bread and drink from his cup in a way that dishonors him, he is guilty of sin against the Lord's body and blood" (11:22, 27). See also Phil 2:3-4, 12, where Paul underlines the need for oneness in the community: "Don't do anything from selfish ambition or from cheap desire to boast, but be humble towards one another, always considering others better than yourselves. And look for one another's interests, not just for your own . . .. Keep on working with fear and trembling to complete your salvation." See also Rom 15:1-2: "We who are strang in the faith ought to help the weak to carry their burdens. We should not please ourselves. Instead, we should all please our brothers far their own good, in order to build them up in the faith. " 6See, for example, Passio beati Phileae episcopi de civitate Thmui: "Culeianus dixit: Sacrifa iam. Phileas respondit: Non sacrifIco. Culcianus dixit: Animae hic curam facimus? Phileas respondit: Animae et corporis (2,3) ... Culcianus dixit: Iam sacrifa. Phielas respondit: Non sacrifico. Animae meae parco" (4,1-2).
354
RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT But it is not for this that God is angry with you, but in order that you should convert your family, which has sinned against the Lord, and against you, their parents. But you are indulgent, and do not correct your family, but have a110wed them to be corrupt. For this reason the Lord is angry with you, but he will hea1 a11 the past evils in your family, for because of their sins and wickedness have you been corrupted of the things of daily life . . .. But make these words known to a11 your children. After you have made known these words to them, which the Master commanded me to revea1 to you, a11 the sins, which they have formerly committed sha11 be forgiven to a11 the saints who have sinned up to this day, if they repent with their whole heart ... (3,1-2). You who work righteousness must remain steadfast and be not double minded. But, Hermas, no Ion ger bear a grudge against your children, nor neglect your sister, that they may be c1eansed from their former sins" (7,1).
The threat which Hermas holds up is the everlasting wrath of God (6,48; see also Brown 1987:258-259). Another important perspective in this context is the development of the Christi an ministry, especially the episcopate. In the New Testament the word father, in its theological sense, is mainly reserved for God, though Paul can call himself the father of those who had been converted through him. Neither do we find a c1early developed concept of ministry. Several elected persons lead by the Spirit cared for the administration of the congregations. From the beginning of the second century there is a new tendency to be seen: The rise of the monarchie episcopate, which is also defined within the conceptual frame of a family. Ignatius describes the bi shop in patron-like language: I know that your bishop obtained the ministry, which makes for the common good, neither from himself nor through men, nor for vain-glory, but in the love of God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ" (Phi!. 1,1). See that you a11 follow the bishop, as Jesus Christ follows the Father, and the presbyters as if they were Apostles. And reverence the deacons as the command of God. It is not lawful neither to baptize nor to hold an agape without the bishop. It is good to know God and the bi shop (Smyrn. VII-IX).
But the bishop did not only take the care of the spiritual needs of the congregation, he also controlled the finances of the Church. In numerous ways the episcopate had inherited much from secular high-rank offices and secular patronage. Through unity the Church could benefit from the blessings of both God and the bi shop . Cyprian· in the third century is an example of this: He criticized his adversary Felicissimus who had taken money from the funds of the Church and given to the needy without the knowledge of the bishop, with the consequence that Felicissimus got the position of a patron (Cyprian, Epist. LII,2). Cyprian was also against the old tradition that confessors and martyrs could let the lapsi, those who had fallen and renounced their faith during the persecutions, into the fellowship of the Church again,
FAMILY-LIKE CARE AND SOLIDARITY 355 because through this they occupied a position of power in the Church. The bishop should, according to Cyprian, be in charge of the penance (Epist. XV,I; XVI,2; IV,4). The bishop, therefore, was to control both the way into the Church and to decide to whom financial help should be given. The Church as a social and spiritual group developed along these lines until the time of Constantine. This does not imply that the tight, family-like solidarity disappeared during. this period, but the bishop made the arrangements and delegated the responsibility. The growth of the Church during the first three centuries, of course, weakened the conception of the Church as a family-like fellowship when the number of believers increased, and the congregations - especially in the cities - became bigger and even more complex than before. The Church of Luke was not the same as the Church in the late third century. But the main characteristics of the Christian understanding of the Church as a fellowship and brotherhood of solidarity remained. The decisive break occurs through the peace between the Church and the Roman Empire, and the favor which the Church experienced during the reign of Constantine and his successors. Gf course we find the nomenc1ature in the texts after 311, the Christians still entitle themselves brothers and sisters, and we still see the demand of Christi an love and responsibility. All c1asses of people met in Church, but the magnificent basilicas were not a suitable place for the making of a tight knit fellowship. The c1imate was another one: A Christi an confession was not socially dangerous any more. Still the people who were weIl off gave alms to the poor, but more and more we see that rich people do this to get influence as patrons and welldoers. Yet some of the old ideals survived, though in a new setting - the ascetic movement. The ascetics established a subcultural ethos within the Church and within a Christi an state as the Church formerly had been ~ subculture vis cl vis the he athen Graeco-Roman society. Thus, in my response I have tried to show that the family-like solidarity was not only a matter of altruism in the early Church, but more important: It was a necessary demand in order to hold together the Church as a socially mixed and vulnerable group.
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RECRUITMENT, CONQUEST, AND CONFLICT Worb Consulted
If not stated otherwise, all texts frorn Antiquity are referred to according to the editions of Loeb Classical Library.
Brown, Peter 1987 "Late Antiquity." pp. 235-311 in A History of Private Life, Voll: From Pagan Rome to Byzantium. Ed. Paul Veyne. Carnbridge: Harvard U niversity . 1988 The Body and Sodety. Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity. New York: Columbia University. Frend, W. H. C. 1984 The Rise of Christianity. Philadelphia: Fortress. Klauck, H. J. 1981 Hausgemeinde und Hausldrehe imfrühen Christentum. SBS 103. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibel werk. Lawlor, H. J. and J. E. L. Oulton 1954 Eusebius: Bishop ofCaesarea. The Ecclesiastical History and the Martyrs of Palestine, Voll. London: SPCK. Musuri1lo, Herbert 1972 The Acts ofthe Christian Martyrs: Introduction, Texts and Translations. Oxford: Clarendon.
EMORY STUDIES IN EARLY CHRISTIANITY Vernon K. Robbins, General Editor David B. Gowler, Associate Editor
V olumes in this series investigate early Christi an literature in the context of Mediterranean literature, religion, society, and culture. The authors use interdisciplinary methods informed by social, rhetorical, literary, and anthropological approaches to move beyond limits within traditional literaryhistorical investigations. The studies presuppose that Christianity began as a Jewish movement ·in various geographical, political, economic, and social locations in the Greco-Roman world.
*1. David B. Gowler, Host, Guest, Enemy and Friend: Pharisees in Luke and Acts, 1991.
Portraits 0/ the
*2. H. Wayne Merritt, In Word and Deed: Moral Integrity in Paul, 1993. *3. Vernon K. Robbins, New Boundaries in Old Territory: Form and Social Rhetoric in Mark, 1994. Ed. and introduced by David B. Gowler. *4. lan Botha, Subject to Whose Authority? Multiple Readings 13, 1994.
0/ Romans
5.
Kjell Arne Morland, The Rhetoric 0/ Curse in Galatians: Paul ConJronts a Different Gospel, 1995.
6.
Eds. Peder Borgen, Vernon K. Robbins, and David B. Gowler, Recruitment, Conquest and Conjlict: Strategies in Judaism, Early Christianity and the Greco-Roman World, 1998.
The first three volumes were published by and are available from Peter Lang Publishing, Inc., 275 Seventh Avenue, 28th Floor, New York, NY 100016708; (212) 647:-7700; FAX (212) 647-7707; customer service (800) 7705264, (212) 647-7706. Internet: www.peterlang.com All subsequent editions are available through Scholars Press.