Vigiliae Christianae. 2014, Vol. 68 Issue 3 PDF

vigiliae christianae 68 (2014) 243-263
Vigiliae
Christianae
brill.com/vc
Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

in De pudicitia 20.1-5
E.A. de Boer
Theological University KampenFree University Amsterdam,

The NetherlandsUniversity of Free State, South Africa
eadeboer@tukampen.nl
Abstract
In De pudicitia Tertullian, quoting from Hebrews 6, refers to the Barnabae titulus ad
Hebraeos. This piece of primary evidence on the authorship of the Letter to the Hebrews
has not received the attention it deserves. Consideration of this piece of evidence serves
to clarify our understanding of the development of the diverging ascriptions, and moreover reveals some possible reasons for this divergence. The Barnabas tradition can be
followed until the end of the fourth century in Spain and France. Comparison of De
paenitentia and De pudicitia shows that Hebrews features only late in Tertullians work.
His growing conviction that a second repentance after baptism cannot be terminated
by acceptance in the Church was strengthened by his appeal to Hebrews 6. Finally,
Tertullians exposition of two chapters from Leviticus on purity illustrate his reading of
Hebrew as the Letter by Joseph Barnabas, a Levite.
Keywords
Tertullian authorship New Testament canon Letter to the Hebrews Codex
Claromontanus Barnabas Pauline Letters
The first Christian Latin author to refer to the provenance of the New Testament
Letter to the Hebrews is Tertullian of Carthage (c.140-c.220). In De pudicitia
(c.210)1 he wrote on the sanctity of the Church and the example of the apostles
at the very end of a discussion of New Testament passages:
1 Timothy David Barnes, Tertullian. A Historical and Literary Study (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1971), 47.
koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 4|doi . / - 4
244
de Boer
For there exists also a letter, entitled by Barnabas to the Hebrews, by a

man sufficiently authorized by God, since Paul put him besides himself
in observance of abstention: For is it only I and Barnabas who have no
power to forebear working? [1 Cor 9:6] At any rate, this Letter of Barnabas
is better received by the churches than that apocryphal Shepherd of the
adulterers.2
What is the weight of this testimony for the history of the New Testament
canon and is there any corroboration for the attribution of the Letter to the
Hebrews to Barnabas? Writing on Hebrews as Pseudepigraphon Clare Rothschild
has noted: Tertullian, to cite just one example, accepts the letters authority
while rejecting its Pauline authorship, attributing it, rather, to Barnabas (with
reference to De pud. 20).3 The text, however, does not indicate that Tertullian
contemplated the possibility of Paul as author, nor of a personal preference for
Barnabas.
The following questions will be addressed. What is the bearing and weight
of his reference? In what context does Tertullian turn to Hebrews? Was his testimony of the author ever transmitted in early Christian documents? Most biblical commentaries on Hebrews contemplate the question of authorship. Often
a reference to Tertullian, but hardly any literary study of the text, is found.4 The
present study will revisit De pudicitia 20 and look for other data which may
corroborate Tertullians testimony or represent the same manuscript tradition.
It will show that the Barnabas tradition can be followed until the end of the
fourth century in Spain and France.
2 Tertullian, De pudicitia 20.2: Extat enim et Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos, a Deo satis auctoritati uiri, ut quem Paulus iuxta se constituerit in abstinentiae tenore: aut ego solus et Barnabas
non habemus operandi potestatem? Et utique receptior apud ecclesias epistola Barnabae illo
apocrypho Pastore moechorum (CCSL 2, 1324).
3 Clare K. Rothschild, Hebrews as Pseudepigraphon. The History and Significance of the Pauline
Attribution of Hebrews, WUNT 235 (Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 20 n.15. Most biblical
commentaries on Hebrews have a passage on authorship. E.g. Otto Michel mentions der
Barnabas-Hypothese of Tertullian and Gregory of Elvira (Der Brief an die Hebrer (Gttingen,
1966), 38). Peter Stuhlmacher mentions Barnabas von dessen Autorschaft Tertullian gehrt
hat (Biblische Theologie des Neuen Testaments, vol. 2 (Gttingen, 1999), 87). The text of De
pud. 20 is quoted and briefly discussed in Eduard Riggenbach, Der Brief an die Hebrar
(Leipzig, 1913; O. Hofius ed., Wuppertal, 1987), p. XI; F.W. Grosheide, De brief aan de Hebreen
en de brief van Jakobus (Kampen, 1955), 31.
4 No study of De pud. 20 is mentioned in Chronica Tertullianea et Cyprianea 1975-1994.
Bibliographie critique de la premire littrature latine chrtienne, eds. Ren Braun e.a.
(Collection des tudes Augustiniennes. Srie Antiquit 157; Paris, 1999).
Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263
245
De paenitentia and De pudicitia
Tertullians opusculum, as he calls it (4.2.), On sexual purity clearly falls in his

Montanist period. He describes it as adversus psychicos titulus (1.10), that is
against people who take a spiritual position in ethical questions, a position
which he admits to have held before. In his earlier De paenitentiato be translated as On Conversionhe had written a positive, almost missionary view of
the divine call to paenitentia. To that repentance you (so much like meI am
even less, for I acknowledge that I excel in sins) have to hasten, as a shipwrecked man to embrace the help of some plank (De paen. 4.2). Such a line
comes close to the personal note on which Tertullian ended his De baptismo:
I just beseech you, when you pray, that you will even remember the sinner
Tertullian (De bapt. XX 5). On the same note De paenitentia closes: For sinner
as I am in every respect and born for nothing else but repentance...
(De paen. XII 9). Still, the penance, described in De paenitentia, received the
form of a ritual, the exomologesis (used in verbal form in the New Testament
for confessing of sin). Yet no sin is excluded from the invitation to acts of penance as a way of honest and unconditional repentance (with the idea of acceptance in Church). Tertullian seems not yet to have wrestled with Hebrews 6.
The Letter to the Hebrews does not feature in Tertullians earlier essay on
repentance and conversion. Was our author at that date (before 203) aware if
its existence?5 There are two works in which Tertullian is leafing through his
collection of New Testament books. In Scorpiace (203/4) he mentions Peter,
John, and James and quoted from 1 Peter, 1 John, and Revelations (Scorp. XII). In
the next chapter he discusses Paul and his letters to the Romans, Corinthians,
Philippians and 2 Timothy. Summarizing what he wrote on the apostolorum
litterae, he finally turns to Acts for illustration (Acta decurrens; Scorp. XV 1).
Hebrews, however, is neither quoted nor mentioned. Also later in Adversus
Marcionem V (207/8) Tertullian specifies the titles of thirteen letters by Paul,
but does not mention Hebrews. Additionally, in a work where one would
expect an awareness of Hebrews 1-2, Adversus Praxean, no reference to this
Letter is found. In his early work Tertullian shows no awareness of the Letter
to the Hebrews.
In only three works do we encounter words which may reflect acquaintance with the text of Hebrews. In Adversus Iudaeos we read a reference to
Melchizedek, summi dei sacerdos, but this may also have been taken from
5 For the dating of Tertullians works see Timothy David Barnes, Tertullian. A Historical and
Literary Study (Oxford, 1971), 55.
246
de Boer
the Vetus Latina of Genesis 14.6 The same can be said of the Latin translation
of Psalm 8: 5-7, and Hebrews 2: 7 as read by Tertullian.7 There are only a few
examples where Tertullian used a specific term which sounds reminiscent of
a word in Hebrews. Both in Adversus Iudaeos and in De anima he writes of
Enoch who was taken away by faith (translatus est), as the Vetus Latina renders Genesis4:24.8 Also in Adversus Iudaeos Tertullian speaks of Christ who
was crucified outside the city, while the Vetus Latina reads in Hebrews 13:13:
Let us then go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore. For here
we do not have an enduring city.9
It is only in De pudicitia that the Letter to the Hebrews comes into full view. The
question that lies at the heart of this later work is whether or not the Church
can accept a repentant sinner who, after his conversion and baptism, falls into
the sin of adultery. Tertullians unequivocal stand is that such a sinner should
remain repentant before God until the end of his life and hope for Gods forgiveness, but that the Church cannot absolve him from his sins and accept him
as a member again. God himself will judge in the end whether or not this
repentant and penitent person was acceptable for salvation.
After a passionate description of the value of pudicitia, deriving everything
from heaven: both its nature by the baptism of regeneration, its discipline
through the help of preaching, and its judgment through the verdicts from the
two Testaments (1.5), Tertullian describes the occasion of his writing. A pontifex maximus, who is the highest bishop (episcopus episcoporum), issued the
following decree: I forgive sins of adultery and of fornication to those who
have performed penance (1.6). The decree and the description of this highranking bishop are the only clues which may help to establish a date for the
writing of De pudicitia. Callistus of Rome (217-222) is often mentioned as
candidate. T.D. Barnes, however, has suggested that the bishop should not be
6 Tertullian, Adv. Iud. II 16; Hebr 7:1; Gen 14:18.
7 Tertullian, Adv. Iud. XIV 5 reads posteaquam diminuit eum modicum quid citra angelos, gloria et honore coronabit eum et subiciet omnia pedibus eius, while the Vulgate has Minuisti
eum paulo minus ab angelis, gloria et honore coronasti eum [...], omnia subiecisti sub pedibus eius (Vetus Latina. Die Reste der altlateinischen Bibel vol. 25, ed. Hermann Josef Frede
(Freiburg: Verlag Herder, 1975-91), 1127-31).
8 Tertullian, De anima L 5 (Translatus est Enoch et Helias nec mors eorum reperta est; CCL 2,
856); Adv. Iud. II 13 (Nam et Enoch iustissimum non circumcisum nec sabbatizantem de hoc
mundo transtulit, qui necdum mortem gustavit...). Cf. Vetus Latina 25, 1505-1507.
9 Cf. Tertullian, Adv. Iud. XIV 9 (extra civitatem crucifixus est; CCL 2, 1394) and Vetus Latina
(exeamus igitur ad eum extra castra, improperium eius portantes, nec enim habemus hic
manentem civitatem; vol. 25, 1639-1641).
247
looked for in Rome, but in Carthage.10 The work must be of a later date than
De paenitentia in which Tertullian had still allowed a second repentance after
baptism for any sin. For the purpose of our present study it suffices to conclude
that De pudicitia is a late work of Tertullian, written around 210 and addressing
a high ranking bishop.11
The main line of this treatise is a discussion of New Testament passages
pertinent to sin and conversion. After an exposition of some parables from
the Gospel (the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son; De pud. 8-11).
Tertullian moves from Acts 15 to St. Pauls Letters (12-18). Following the Pauline
letters he adduces St. John in the book of Revelation and Johns First Letter
(19).12 Tertullians discussion of New Testament books is then brought to an
end in the passage, quoted at the beginning of the present study: There even
does exist Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos... (20.2). It seems that Tertullian had
since became aware of its existence and that he values its contents so much
that he wants to draw attention to the Letter and status of its author.

Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos
Writing on the disciplina apostolorum Tertullian stated that their teaching is

that the sanctity of the Church excludes every sacrilege of impurity without
any mention of restitution. As an example he adduces the testimony of a companion of the apostles, who is capable of confirming the discipline of the apostles as nearest witness (De pud. 20.1). Having thus introduced the point in
question Tertullian continues: Extat enim et Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos...
10
11
12
See Claudio Micaelli in: Tertullien, La pudicit (De pudicitia), vol. 1, ed. Claudio Micaelli
Charles Munier (Sources Chrtiennes 394; Paris, 1993), 10-38; Barnes, Tertullian, 247.
Barnes main argument against an opponent in Rome is the line id est ad omnem ecclesiam Petri propinquam, that is to every nearby church of Peter (Pud. 21.9), according to
the text of CCSL 1, 1327. Moreover, Munier in SC 394 reads provinciam (272), l. 45).
Antti Marjanen, Montanism: Egalitarian Ecstatic New Prophecy, in A Companion to
Second-Century Christian Heretics, eds. Antti Marjanen, Petri Luomanen (Leiden, 2008),
185-212.
Cyprian of Carthage, meditating on the number seven, also mentioned Apostolus Paulus,
qui huius numeri legitimi et certi meminit, ad septem ecclesias scripsit (Ad. Fort. 11; CCSL
3, 205, ll. 102-102; cf. Adv. Iud. 1.20; PL 4, 716). The Cheltenham Canon, dated c. 360 and
located in North Africa, limits Pauls letters to thirteen and does not mention Hebrews
(Rainer Riesner, Der Hebrer-Brief nach Altkirchlichen Zeugnissen, European Journal of
Theology 11/1 (2002), 21 (15-29)). Since James and Jude are also omitted, the text may be
corrupt.
248
de Boer
(as quoted in translation above). What does the subject of the sentence
Barnabae titulus mean? The Latin titulus (Greek ) refers to a title, a
heading, or a (library) tag.13 With the verbal form extat Tertullian states the fact
that there remains a [work] by Barnabas, entitled To the Hebrews. The fact
that Tertullian speaks of a titulus in which the name of Barnabas occurs in connection to Ad Hebraeos, points at a heading in either a (Greek) manuscript or
a (Latin) translation.
Before quoting from the referred work Tertullian says on Barnabas that he
is a man who has been authorized sufficiently by God, since Paul placed him
besides himself in the observance of abstinence: Or do only I and Barnabas
not have the right to act so? [1 Cor. 6:9]. Paul and Barnabas did not rely on
financial support from the congregations, nor did they takes their spouses with
them on their travels. They worked for their living and travelled together, but
without female company. The reference to a specific verse in 1 Corinthians 9
serves to highlight the authority of the author of Ad Hebraeos.
The last general statement on the Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos in De pudicitia 20.2 is: At any rate the Letter of Barnabas is more accepted by the churches
than that apocryphal Pastor of the fornicators. In paragraph 10 Tertullian had
already stated what he thought of the book Pastor Hermae, who is the only
one who loves adulterers (10.12). This statement raises the question of whether
Tertullian, comparing the epistola Barnabae and the Pastor Hermae, in fact
thought of the so-called Letter of Barnabas? In the East this Greek letter is
found, for example, in the codex Sinaticus following Revelation and before
the Shepherd of Hermas. In the West, however, the work was never regarded as
authoritative writing. Within De pudicitia 20.2 the epistola Barnabae must be
identical with the Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos. Tertullian could not have confused the Letter to the Hebrews and the so-called Letter of Barnabas, because
the quote he has been introducing is not found in that work.
In De pudicitia 20.3 the author takes up the introduction on the discipline of
the apostles. Thus he exhorted his disciples, leaving all beginnings behind, to
proceed towards perfection and to not again lay the foundation of repentance
by works of the dead. Thus summarising Hebrews 6:1-2, Tertullian proceeds
with an extended quote, introduced by the main verb of the whole paragraph
inquit, of Hebrews 6:4-8a passage which is also valuable as testimony to the
Vetus Latina (De pud. 20.3-4).14
13 In De pud. 1.10 Tertullian refers to hic adversus psychicos titulus.

14 See Vetus Latina. Die Reste der altlateinischen Bibel vol. 25, ed. Hermann Josef Frede
(Freiburg: Verlag Herder, 1975-91), 1264-75.
249
Tertullian reaches the following conclusion, again describing Barnabas: He

who had learned this from the apostles and taught it with the apostles, never
knew of a second conversion for adulterers and fornicators as promised by the
apostles. For he interpreted the law very well and he preserved its ceremonies
in the very truth (De pud. 20.5).15 The first line of this concluding passage again
connects the author to the apostles, in whose company he worked, and states
that he did not teach a second conversion. The second line seems to be a summary of the Letter to the Hebrews as an interpretation of the Old Testament
lex and its figurae.
Tertullian finally turns to the Old Testament book Leviticus to illustrate the
authors (himself a Levite) hermeneutics of the Law. Tertullian adduces the
extensive law on leprosy of Lev. 13-14. Conversion and baptism are compared
to the case of healing from leprosy. On inspection by the Priest the healed person is cleansed, having received the whiteness of the faith. But when a house
(which could be affected by mould, resembling leprosy) is contaminated the
bad stones should be taken out and dumped into an unclean place outside
the town (Lev. 14:40, quoted in De pud. XX 9). The high priest of the Father,
Christ, entered the unclean house (flesh and soul) and polished the stones
for renewed use. The clean stones can be used again and the house plastered
anew. However, when leprosy breaks out again in the house of man, the whole
structure shall be demolished and taken out of town to an unclean place. So
also the man, body and soul, who being renewed after baptism and the entering of the priests (qui post baptismum et introitum sacerdotum reformatus) fell
into serious sexual sin can no more be rebuilt in the Church after his ruin (De
pud. XX 12). Tertullian, inspired by the Letter to the Hebrews, expounded the
laws involving the Levites and applied its teachings to bring home his point:
a second repentance cannot be accepted and ended in the Christian church.
Neither apostles nor martyrs can absolve such a sinner. Only death, as a second
baptism, can bring forgiveness, which is Gods alone to grant.
To summarize: In De pudicitia 20 Tertullian quoted a passage from Hebrews
6 from a Latin translation or translated it from a Greek manuscript. The titulus on the manuscript or the title tag in the library, evidently read Barnabae
ad Hebraeos. Our findings are that in Carthage, North Africa, at the beginning
of the third century the Letter to the Hebrews was clearly received as from
Barnabas, the early companion of Paul. While the status is receptior16 apud
ecclesias epistola Barnabae (over against the apocryphal Pastor [Hermae],
15 Tertullian, De pudicitia 20.3-5 (CCSL 2, 1325, ll. 22-24).
16 Cf. Tertullian, Adv. Marc. IV.5.5: Nam et competit ut, si qui evangelium pervertant, eorum
magis curarent perversionem, quorum sciebant auctoritatem receptiorem.
250
de Boer
which he calls derisively moechorum), the title is given without any doubt
regarding its authenticity and without any thought of possible Pauline authorship. Writing a highly polemical treatise Tertullian could not afford to refer to
a writing of which the authenticity and even apostolicity was questioned. For
Tertullian, regarding the Levite Barnabas as author of Hebrews, it was a logical
conclusion to proceed with an exposition of a law from Leviticus.

Transmission of Tertullians titulus
Tertullians testimony was summarized and transmitted by Jerome who noted

on the Letter to the Hebrews that is was not believed to have been written by
Paul because of different style and speech, but by Barnabas (according to
Tertullian), by Luke the evangelist (according to some), or by Clement, later
bishop of the church of Rome [...].17 This line was transcribed, for example, by
Pelagius in his introduction to his commentary on Pauls Letters.18 In the 16th
century, when Pauline authorship was established and regarded as doctrine, it
was cardinal Cajetan (Tomasso de Vio) who in 1532 in his Epistolae Pauli et aliorum apostolorum ad Graecam veritatem castigatae again presented Tertullians
testimony.19
Tertullians writings from his Montanist period survived in only a few manuscripts, which served as the basis of the 16th century editions. De pudicitia
was not included in the editio princeps of Tertullians works in print, produced
by Beatus Rhenanus in 1521 (at Johannes Frobens in Basel). It was introduced
in the 1545 edition by Martin Mesnard (at Jean Gagnys in Paris).20 Although
Tertullians later work was not transmitted broadly,21 the text of De pudicitia
and his attribution of Hebrews to Barnabas were not unknown, but were disseminated among his writings.
17 Jerome, De viris illustribus 5: Epistola autem quae fertur ad Hebraeos, non eius creditur,
propter styli sermonisque dissonantiam, sed vel Barnabae, juxta Tertullianum. See, how
ever, Jerome, Epist. 129.3 (ad Dardanum).
18 Pelagius, Expositiones XIII epistularum Pauli (PLS 1, 1110).
19 Kenneth Hagen, Hebrews Commenting from Erasmus to Bze 1516-1598 [BGBE 23]
(Tbingen, 1981), 18, 20.
20 See http://www.tertullian.org/editions/editions.htm (accessed at 27 June 2012); CCSL 1,
p. VI-VIII and Tabula II.
21 CCSL 1, Tabula Ib-c; Pacianus, Paraenesis, sive exhortatorius libellus, ad poenitentiam,
PL 13, 1082-90; Dom E. Dekkers, Note on a Recently Discovered Fragments of Tertullian,
Sacris Eruditi 4 (1952), 372-383.
251
Barnabae epistola in the fourth century
There might be other traces that corroborate the existence of a manuscript

tradition of the Letter to the Hebrews including the titulus. In Ps.-Origenes,
Tractatus de libris sacrarum scripturarum, tract. 10 attributes a reference to
Romans 12:1, to the blessed apostle Paul, while the next quote (Hebrews 13:15)
is introduced as follows:
But also the very holy Barnabas says: Let us through him offer to God a
sacrifice of praise of our lips which confess his name.22
The apostles Paul and Barnabas are mentioned and quoted pointedly together.
While Theodore Zahn pointed to Novatian as author of these Tractatus, they
are nowadays attributed to Gregory of Elvira ( after 392, according to
Jerome),23 who used the works of Tertullian, Novatian (De Trinitate), Cyprian,
and Hilary extensively. A recent advocate of Novatian is Rainer Riesner, pointing to the fact that in Rome the Letter to the Hebrews was not attributed to
Paul, so that Novatian could have followed a North African tradition in regarding Barnabas as its author.24 The Roman presbyter wrote De bono pudicitiae,
a pastoral letter commending sexual purity and reflecting knowledge of
Tertullians work.25
The text of Hebrews 13:15 quoted in Ps.-Origens Tractatus is clearly attributed to Barnabas. Knowledge of that tradition may stem from the manuscript
cited by the author of the Tractatus. When Gregory of Elvira is taken as author
of the Tractatus, this tradition survived until the end of the fourth century.
Living in the province Baetica in the South of Spain, Gregory could be aware of
a manuscript tradition in northern Africa and of knowledge of the provenance
of Hebrews as it was preserved in Rome.
22
Sed et sanctissimus Barnabas: Per ipsum offerimus, inquit, Deo laudis hostiam labiorum
confitentium nomini eius (Tractatus Origenis de libris SS. Scripturarum, ed. Petrus Batiffol
(Paris, [1900]), 108; J.-P. Migne, Patrologiae cursus completus. Series Latina. Supplementum
vol. 1 (Paris, 1958), 417; Gregorii Iliberritani Episcopi quae supersunt, ed. V. Bulhart (CCSL69;
Turnhout, 1967), 78 ll. 72-74.
23 Cf. Gregorii Iliberritani Episcopi quae supersunt (CCSL 69), p. LIII.
24 Riesner, Der Hebrer-Brief nach Altkirchlichen Zeugnissen, 21. On Gregory of Elvira see:
Lexikon der Antiken Christlichen Literatur, Siegmar DppWilhelm Geerlings eds., 3 ed.
(Freiburg / Basel / wien: Herder, 2002), 291.
25 In Novationi opera, ed. G.F. Diercks (CCSL IV; Turnhout, 1972), 113-127.
252
de Boer
A third pointer to Barnabas as author of one of the books of the New Testament
is found in the Codex Ambrosianus, regarded as stemming from Rome and
from the 3rd or 4th century. There, a remarkable note is written on the making
of the New Testament:
On the canonical books of the New Testament the first to write was Peter,
the second James, the third Matthew, the fourth Jude, fifth Paul, sextus
Barnabas, seventh Luke, eighth Marc, ninth John.26
The note is a preface to the Catholic Letters. In the West the note on Barnabas
could hardly hint at the so-called Letter of Barnabas since this was not regarded
as authentic. That Peter is mentioned first may refer to his priority among the
Twelve. James suggests the Catholic Letter of that name, followed in time by
the gospel of Matthew. Mentioning Judes as an early Letter is unusual. It is
striking that Paul and Barnabas are mentioned together and in this order as
fifth and sixth. Donatien de Bruyne stated that only one explanation of the
occurrence of sextus Barnabas remains: that is to identify our Barnabas with
the author of the Letter to the Hebrews.
A fourth reference to Barnabae epistola is found in the bilingual Codex
Claromontanus or D 06 (4th century; found by Theodore Beza in Clermont
in northern France in 1582 and now preserved in Paris). The list itself fails to
mention To the Hebrews, but does mention (between the Letter of Jude and
Revelation) the Epistle of Barnabas. Some scholars take this heading as reference to the Letter to the Hebrews, especially on the basis of the stichometric calculation which gives for this book a total of 850 lines (which is far too
little for the larger pseudepigraphic Epistle of Barnabas), somewhat less than
Romans or 1 Corinthians.27 Codex Claromontanus thus gives a titulus reading
Barnabae epistola for a Latin translation of the Letter to the Hebrews.
26
27
Donatien de Bruyne, Un prologue inconnu des pitres catholiques, in: Revue Bndictine
23 (1906), 82-87. Cf. Riesner, Der Hebrer-Brief nach Altkirchlichen Zeugnissen, 24.
Riesner, Der Hebrer-Brief nach Altkirchlichen Zeugnissen, 23; Robert A. Kraft in The
Apostolic Fathers. A New Translation and Commentary, vol. 3, ed. Robert A. Kraft (Toronto/
New York / London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1965), 41. Linguistic research of the Latin text
of this codex demonstrates that the text of Hebrews shows another translator than the
Pauline letters and was added no later than the early fourth century to a corpus of thirteen letters, that is perhaps when the authorship of Paul became established in the West
(cf. Reinhard Franz Schlossnikel, Der Brief aan die Hebrer und das Corpus Paulinum. Eine
linguistische Bruchstelle im Codex Claromontanus und ihre Bedeutung im Rahmen von
Tekst- und Kanongeschichte [Vetus Latina. Die Reste der altlateinischen Buibel 24]
(Freiburg, 1991)).
253
Second conversion or rebaptism?
Reasons why the Letter to the Hebrews was not accepted as readily as other
New Testament writings can be learned from the work of Filastrius of Brescia
(383/393). In his Liber de haeresibus he dedicated a chapter (no. 99) to The
Heresy of Some on Pauls Letter to the Hebrews.28 In the preceding passage on
apocryphal books Filastrius had listed which books may only be read in church
and had distinguished between Pauls thirteen Letters, and seven others, without mentioning Hebrews. In chapter 99 we read: There are also some people
who state that the Letter by Paul to the Hebrews it not his, but they either say
that it is by the apostle Barnabas, or by Clement, bishop of the city of Rome.
Even Luke has been mentioned as author. In some churches the letter to the
Hebrews is read only now and then. Filastrius mentions explicitly that the radicalism of the Novatians on (second) conversion (poenitantia) was reason for
some not to read the letter in Church (which he argues as incorrect).29 We
might ask: is this also the reason why no references to Hebrews are found in
the work of Cyprian of Carthage?
Philastrius does not mention Tertullian at all. In his enumeration of false
religions, sects, and heresies from Old Testament times until his days he
does speak of the Cataphrygists, but without pointing to North Africa. He
distinguishes even the Montanists but connects them to the North African
Donatists.30 Filastrius chapter on Hebrews reads as a defence of the Letter
against various reasons why it is not being read in some churches. According to
him Hebrews speaks against rebaptism (rebaptizatores), not against the baptism of penance (baptismus poenitentiae).
The following conclusion may be drawn: a tradition which ascribed the
Letter to the Hebrews to Barnabas apostolos is represented in the Latin Church
since Tertullian and survived until the end of the fourth century in Spain and
France. This fact underlines the thought that the Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos
refers to an actual manuscript in which Hebrews was not yet identified with
the Corpus Paulinum (De pud. 20.2).
28
29
30
Sunt alii quoque, qui Epistolam Pauli ad Hebraeos non asserunt esse ipsius, sed dicunt
aut Barnabae esse apostoli, aut Clementis de urbe roma episcopi (PL 12, 1200-1202). In
1720 Paolo Gagliardi of Brescia edited the work of Filastrius and referred in the preface to
a possible other work which may be attributed to the same author nempe vetus Latina
Epistolae S. Barnabae Interpretatio (PL 12, 1073). It is not clear whether this refers to an
exposition of Hebrews or of the pseudepigraphical Letter of Barnabas.
De poenitentia autem (Hebr. VI, 4; X, 26) propter Novatianos aeque (PL 12, 1201).
PL 12, 1165f; 1196.
254

de Boer
Eusebius and the East
This survival of this manuscript tradition on Hebrews in the Latin Church is all
the more surprising over against the early and solid tradition in the Greek
Church which ascribed this Letter to Paul. How do we explain that the Barnabas
tradition seems to have been unknown in the East?
Regarding the eastern tradition, Eusebius reports on the explicit opinion
of Clement of Alexandria (c.140-c.220) in his (now lost) Hypotyposeis on the
Letter to the Hebrews. Clement stated specifically that the letter is by Paul,
written for the Hebrews in the Hebrew language, and translated by Luke on
behalf of the Greeks (which would explain why the style agrees with that of the
Gospel and Acts). The reason why the words are not found
written in the letterhead is clear: the Hebrews had a prejudice against him and
the apostle wisely did not repel them at the beginning by putting his name.31
It is remarkable that Clement of Alexandria regarded Hebrews as written by
Paul, while on the other hand he recognized the so-called Epistle of Barnabas
(which would never be accepted in the West) and identified the author as the
apostle, one of the seventy and co-worker of Paul, or the prophet Barnabas.32
According to Eusebius, the also contained a concise exposition
of this Epistle of Barnabas and it is after this remark that Eusebius informs his
readers that Clement attributed Hebrews to Paul.
Origen regarded the Epistle of Barnabas as a .33 The fact that
this work is found in the Codex Sinaiticus (4th century), following Revelation,
testifies to the place it held for some time in the East. On Hebrews, Eusebius
also pointed out what Origen (c.185-253) in his Homiliai said about the style
and contents of the letter, comparing it to Pauls writings. The first point made
by Origen is, That the character of the diction of the epistle entitled To the
Hebrews does not have the apostles idiosyncracy ( ) in
31 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. VI 14.2-3. Eusebius relates that Philo ( 50 p.n.) read the Gospels, the
writings to the apostles and some expositions (...) of the prophets
after the manner of the ancients, such as are in the Epistle to the Hebrews and many other
of the epistles of Paul (Hist. eccl. II 17.12). Eusebius thus stresses first the typical manner
of Old Testament exposition as found in Hebrews and secondly seems to include Hebrews
in the letters of Paul. Although it is unlikely that Philo of Alexandria could have known
the New Testament writings, it is clear why Eusebius singled out Hebrews.
32 Clemens Alexandrinus, Stromata I. 7.35.4 [GCS 2, 131] ); . 20.116.3 [176] (
... ). Cf. Eusebius, HE VI 13.6.
33 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. VI 14.1: ; Origenes,
Contra Celsum libri VII, A 63, ed. M. Marcovich [Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae 54]
(Leiden / Boston / Kln: Brill, 2001), 65.
255
speech, that is, in style; but that the epistle is better Greek in the framing of
its diction, will be admitted by everyone who is able to discern differences in
style.34 Regarding its contents Origen judged that the thoughts of the epistle
are admirable, and not inferior to the acknowledged writings of the apostle
[...]. Therefore, Not without reason have the men of the old time handed it
down as Pauls, because the style and composition belong to one who called
to mind the apostles teaching and, as it were, made short notes of what his
master said.35 Finally Origen recorded (and Eusebius established) the account
of the writer of Hebrews being either Clement of Rome or Luke, the author of
the Gospel and Acts.
Eusebius not only reported on Origens esteem for Hebrews, but also showed
his own convictions, rooted in the same tradition. Relating the preaching by
the apostles following the destruction of Jerusalem in book III, Eusebius listed
their writings. The Fourteen ( ), are clearly, and convincingly,
by Paul. Yet it is not right to ignore that some do not acknowledge the one to
the Hebrews, stating that the church of Rome spoke against it being of Paul.36
Eusebius promises his readers that he will discuss the matter in due time.
In his overview of the apostles successors Eusebius develops his own opinion. He mentions Clement of Rome (c.91-c.101), writing on their behalf to the
church of Corinth, and observes thoughts and even verbal quotations parallel to Hebrews, thereby showing clearly that it was not a recent production,
and for this reason, too, it has seemed natural to include Hebrews among the
other writings of the Apostle.37 Paul would have addressed the Hebrews in
their native language, while according to some the evangelist Luke translated
the letter into Greek, and according to others still the translator was Clement
himself (which would provide a good explanation for Clements acquaintance
with Hebrews).
Jerome (c.347-419) later shared this view and reported in De viris illustribus XV on Clement of Rome and his Letter to the church of Corinth, which
seems to me to correspond to the style of the Epistle to the Hebrews ascribed
to the authorship of Paul, and uses many expressions from that same epistle
which do not merely agree in sense but even in word order, and there is an altogether great similarity between the two.38 Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and
34 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. VI 25.11-12
35 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. VI 25.13. This passage is also published as Ex origenis homiliis in epistolam ad Hebraeos in PG 14, 1308-09.
36 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. III 3.4.
37 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. III 38.2-3.
38 Jerome, De vir. ill. XV; PL 13, 647-50. Cf. above n. 10.
256
de Boer
Eusebius represented a strong tradition in which Pauls authorship of Hebrews

was established and the peculiar traits of the Letter explained. The arguments,
used in this tradition, are neither consistent not conclusive. Also, there is no
manuscript evidence for a attributing Hebrews to Paul.

Rome and Hebrews
Even Eusebius did not ignore a Roman tradition, expressed by Gaius, writing in
the days of Zephyrinus (198-217) in Rome, who in his Dialogus adversus Proclum
(a Montanist) ascribed the thirteen letters to Paul and did not count Hebrews
among them seeing that even to this day among the Romans there are those
who do not consider it to be the Apostles.39 The letter of the Church of Rome
to the Church of Corinth, said to have been written by Clement Romanus at
the end of the first century, indeed contains references to Hebrews and thereby
attest early and first-hand knowledge of the Letter in Rome.
There are other data which link the Letter to the Hebrews to Rome as place
of origin and which may underpin the testimony of non-Pauline authorship.
Many subscriptions in the manuscripts have , thus taking Rome as
place of dispatch or even writing.40 The subscriptions rarely contain a writers
name, although they do name Timothy as the bearer of the Letter. This does
not conflict with the report on Timothy in Hebrews 13:23 that our brother
Timothy has been released, where the author added: If he arrives soon, I will
come with him to see you. From other New Testament data no (temporary)
imprisonment of Timothy is known, nor of Paul waiting for him to be released.
There is one tradition, however, which puts both Barnabas and Timothy
in Rome. The Acta Petri apostoli (c.180-190), originally written in Greek but
known for the greater part only in Latin translation, tell of an appearance of
Simon Magus in Rome. He succeeded in confusing the Christians, especially
since Paul was not present, and neither were Timothy and Barnabas, because
they were send to Macedonia by Paul.41 This detail suggests that Timothy and
39 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. VI 20.3.
40 Cf. Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament London / New
York, 1975), 678.
41 Actus Petri cum Simone IV, in A. LipsiusM. Bonnet, Acta Apostolorum Apocrypha, vol. 1
(Leipzig, 1891/Hildesheim, 1959), 49 r. 9-10; cf. Hennecke-Schneemelcher, Neutestamentliche
Apokryphen, vol. II, 3. ed. (Tngen: Mohr Siebeck, 1964), 194. The reference in HenneckeSchneemelcher to Acts 19:22 en Fil 2:19f, is to an earlier mission of Timothy to Macedonia
(c.52). Van Houwelingen calls this tale in the Acts of Peter an apocryphal but trustworthy
257
Barnabas had been in Rome, even before Peter came to preach there. Peters
arrival in Rome is described as after the twelve years in Jerusalem, which the
Lord Christ had prescribed to him.42 Such a tradition may be connected to
knowledge concerning the provenance of the Letter to the Hebrews in Rome
and the continuing hesitance to ascribe it to the apostle Paul.

Barnabas,
What is the status of Barnabas in the early Church, especially in the East, close
to his roots? In the New Testament Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the
apostles called Barnabas (which means son of encouragement; ) is introduced by Luke (Acts 4:36). He is the one in Jerusalem who takes
care of the converted Saul and takes the trouble to go and find him later in
Tarsus. In the first missionary journey it is Barnabas who is mentioned first,
until Paul takes a leading role (Acts 13:42). The two apostles feature as a team,
also in their defence of the mission strategy in the Jerusalem Council, until
they break up in a conflict over John Mark. From then on Barnabas disappears
from the Acts of the Apostles. It is only in later letters, which the early Church
ascribed to Paul, that we learn that he again valued John Mark and may have
been reconciled with Barnabas (Col. 4:10; 2 Tim. 4:11). If these letters are
regarded as having been written after Paul, the positive tradition on Barnabas
is even stronger.
The last note in Acts on Barnabas whereabouts is found in Lukes farewell
in Acts 15: Barnabas took Mark and sailed for Cyprus (15:39), from where
the Levite Joseph Barnabas originated. In the following ages no recollection
of any involvement by him in the writing of Hebrews was preserved in the
Greek world. It is only when in 488 Barnabas remains were thought to have
been uncovered near Salamis on Cyprus that all (oral) traditions on him were
brought together. The Laudatio Barnabae, compiled before 566 by Alexander
42
tradition (P.H.R. van Houwelingen red., Apostelen. Dragers van een spraakmakend evangelie (Kampen, 2010), 130 n. 31); id., Riddles around the Letter to the Hebrews, Fides
Reformata 16/2 (2011), 151-162.
Actus Petri cum Simone IV, in: LipsiusBonnet, Acta Apostolorum Apocrypha, vol. 1, 49:
Lugentibus autem eis et ieiunantibus, iam instruebat deus in futurum Petrum in
Hierosolymis. Adimpletis duodecim annis quod illi praeceperat dominus, Christus ostendit illi visionem talem, dicens ei...
258
de Boer
Monachus, told the tale of Barnabas service to the gospel, but included no
reference to any writings from his hand.43
No tradition on Barnabas in relation to Hebrews survived on Cyprus, the
island of his birth. Epiphanius of Salamis (c.320-403) had noted in his Adversus
haereses, writing against Marcion, that some codices of the New Testament
count Hebrews as the fourteenth letter, but other copies put the Letter to the
Hebrews in the tenth place, before 1 and 2 Timothy, Titus, and Philemon.44
One could expect that this Bishop of Cyprus would maintain a special interest in his famous predecessor. He mentions Barnabas as one of the seventytwo apostles sent by Jesus and relates that Barnabas ancestors fled from war
to Cyprus in the days of Antiochus Epiphanes.45 Epiphanius, however, speaks
nowhere of any (involvement in) letter writing by Barnabas. There are, therefore, no eastern sources mentioning Barnabas in relation to the Letter to the
Hebrews. In the Greek Church the Letter was at an early stage attributed to
the apostle Paul, even though some hesitance in this regard was remembered.

Hebrews and Barnabas in Canon Lists
One papyrus manuscript (P46), dated c.200 ad, with the earliest collection of
Pauls letters has Hebrews following Romans, surprisingly.46 The Muratorian
Canon, however, lists Pauls known letters and does not mention Hebrews at
all. These examples suggest that the place of Hebrews in the New Testament
canon is relevant to the aspect of authorship. Hebrews has, as far as the manuscripts show, always been transmitted together with Pauls Letters and not in
the collection of Catholic Letters.47
Hatch has extensively described how Hebrews appears basically at three different positions among the Pauline letters. First, it is found among the letters to
churches, that is after Romans or following Corinthians. In that case its length
gave Hebrews a prominent position. Secondly, Hebrews often features after
43
The work, also called Laudatio Barnabae, tells the story how Barnabas foretold his death
and asked to be buried. His disciples were then to go to Paul and stay with him, until the
Lord will relay to you what to do (Alexander Monachus, Laudatio Barnabae / Lobrede auf
Barnabas (Fontes Christiani 46; Turnhout, 2007), 28 (p. 100)).
44 Epiphanius, Adversus haereses I, PG 41, 812.
45 Epiphanius, Panarion 4.1 (GCS 25, 231); 30.24-25 (366f).
46 Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. New Testament X: Hebrews, eds. Erik H.
HeenPhilip D.W. Krey (Downers Grove IL, 2005), p. XVIII.
47 David Trobisch. Die Endredaktion des Neuen Testaments. Eine Untersuchung zur Entstehung
der christlichen Bibel (Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus 31; Gttingen, 1996), 40, 91.
259
2 Thessalonians, that is, after the letters to the churches. The third position,
which became dominant following the Vulgate in the West, is that Hebrews is
placed after all of Pauls letters, that is, following Philemon.48 It is instructive
to take a closer look at some examples of these three positions because they
illustrate that the position of Hebrews in the canon remained peculiar, even
when it was accepted as Pauls.
Athanasius in his famous Thirty-Ninth Festival Letter (367, Alexandria) lists
twenty seven books of the New Testament: following the Catholic Letters are
by Paul fourteen letters, put in this order..., where Hebrews has the tenth and
last place among the letters to Churches and is placed before Pauls letters to
his co-workers.49 The Codex Sinaiticus and Vaticanus (in definitive version)
also place Hebrews after 2 Thessalonians.50 Also interesting in this respect is
the prologue which Euthalius wrote to the Fourteen letters of St. Paul, where
he places Hebrews after Thessalonians. He mentions Barnabas, not in direct
relation to Hebrews, but to Pauls ministry according to Galatians 2:9, that is
the agreement that Paul and Barnabas should go to the gentiles, while the
other apostles went to the Jews, to those who are from the circumcision.51
Although his historical position is not clear, the Athanasius to whom Euthalius
dedicated his edition of and introduction to Acts and to the Catholic Epistles,
could be Athanasius of Alexandria (who placed Hebrews as the last letter to
churches).
Jerome represents the days when the position of Hebrews in the canon in the
West is set, that is at the end of the Pauline letters. Yet in his letter to Paulinus
he mentioned: The apostle Paul wrote to seven churches (for the eighth, To the
Hebrews, is put by most outside this number). After this line Jerome lists Pauls
48
W.H.P. Hatch, The Position of Hebrews in the Canon of the New Testament, Harvard
Theological Review 29 (1936), 133-51.
49 Athanasius, Epistolae heortasticae XXIX, PG 26, 1437. This corresponds with the place of
Hebrews in the Synopsis scripturae sacrae, transmitted under his name, where the list is
amplified with the opening verse of each Bible book: Decima, ad Hebaeos, cuius exordium est: Multifariam et multis modis olim Deus locutus patribus per prophetas, novissime extremis diebus locutus est nobis in Filio (PG 28, 293).
50 Cf. Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (London / New
York: United bible societies, 1975), 661f. on the basis of Hatch, The Position of Hebrews in
the Canon of the New Testament.
51 Euthalius, Prologus in quatuordecim sancti Pauli apostolic epistolas, in PG 85, 705, 773-80.
Barnabas name is only mentioned in connection to Paul: siquidem Paulus gentium apostolus erat, non Judaeorum; societatis namque dextras dederat Petro caeterisque apostolic,
ut ipse cum Barnaba in gentes; Petrus vero cum reliquis, in eos qui ex circumcisione
errant, apostolatu fungeretur (PG 85, 775).
260
de Boer
letters to his co-workers.52 He knew of those Greek manuscripts which have

Hebrews after 2 Thessalonians, as he could have seen in Alexandria, which he
visited after completing his Bible translation. Amphilochius of Iconium (end
of 4th century) composed a poem, transmitted through Gregory of Nazianzus,
in which the biblical books are listed. At the end of Pauls two times seven letters is mentioned, and to the Hebrews one, with the added line: Some say that
the one to the Hebrews is a fake, but they do not speak well. For the genuine
letter is grace.53 Hilary of Poitiers mentioned in his De Trinitate of 367 quod
Paulus ad Hebraeos dixerit, quoting from chapters 1 and 3.54

Patristic Commentaries on Hebrews
When does the Letter to the Hebrews feature in biblical exposition? John
Chrysostom (c.349-407) in thirty-four homilies, preached late in his life and
appearing after his death, gives the first full exposition in the East.55 In the
introduction he dwells on the authorship of Paul, pondering why the apostle to
the nations would have written a letter to the Jews. Cyril of Alexandria ( 444)
also expounded Hebrews, partially also preserved in the Catenae, and regarded
Paul as its author.56 This mainly anti-Arian explanation does not contain any
discussion of the authorship. Theodoret of Cyr (c.393-466) followed the same
anti-Arian line in his Interpretatio epistolae ad Hebraeos, but went a step
further.57 In the argumentum he warned against the Arians who separate this
letter from the other apostolic ones and call it a forgery (, as Eusebius
labelled the Epistle of Barnabas, as also ).58
Theodoret appealed to Eusebius who defended Pauline authorship: Paul wrote
52 Hieronymus, Epistula 54 ad Paulinum (PL 22, 548).

53 Amphilochius (Hatch, The Position of Hebrews, 143) in Gregorius, Carminum liber II/2, ll.
306-309: [...] . / , /
GP 37, 1597).
54 Hilarius, De Trin. 4.11 (CCSL 62, 112).
55 John Chrysostomus, In epistulam ad Hebraeos argumentum et homiliae 1-34, PG 63, 13-236.
56 PG 74, 953-1005.
57 Theodoretus, Interpretatio in epistulam ad Hebraeos, PG 82, 673-785. Theodore of
Mopsuestias work on Hebrews is found in Fragmenta in epistulam ad Hebraeos, in
Pauluskommentare aus der griechischen Kirche, 2 ed. Karl Swaab (Mnster/Westfalen:
Aschendorff, 1984), 200-12.
58 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. III 25.4-5.
261
the Letter in the Hebrew language and Clement [of Rome] translated it.59 John
of Damascus, building on the work of Chrysostom, added a short passage to his
exposition in which he attributed the Letter to the Hebrews to Clement of
Rome (mentioned by Paul in Philippians 4), who wrote the letter in cooperation with Paul in Hebrew, while Luke (or, according to some, Clement) translated the letter into Greek.60
While in the East the Pauline authorship of the Letter to the Hebrews is
assumed and defended, expositors in the West do not automatically include
Hebrews in the Pauline Letters and leave the matter of authorship undecided. Ambrosiaster (third quarter of the 4th century) wrote a commentary on
Pauls thirteen letters, excluding the Letter to the Hebrews. Souter stated that
Ambrosiaster regarded Hebrews as an anonymous work (a label which indeed
is found in some of the subscriptiones to the Greek text).61 Yet while commenting on 2 Timothy 1:3 (serving with a clear conscience) Ambrosiaster wrote:
For in the same way it is also written in the Letter to the Hebrews on Levis
service to God (Heb. 7:9-1), and clearly regarded it as canonical.62
Some extant manuscripts by Ambrosiaster and some early printed editions
include a commentary on Hebrews written by Alcuin (804). Alcuins was the
first extensive Latin commentary on that letter, relying heavily on the sixthcentury translation of Chrysostoms commentary on Hebrews, written c. 403.63
In the same age a commentary on Hebrews (by Haimo of Auxerre) was attached
to Pelagius (mid-4th century) commentary on the thirteen Pauline Letters
59
Quod si ne hoc quidem ad eis persuadendum satis est, Eusebio certe oportebat eos
Palaestino credere, quem patronum suorum decretorum appellant. Nam is etiam divinissimi Pauli hanc esse Epistolam confessus est; et veteres omnes hanc de ea sententiam
habuisse asseruit (Latin translation of Theodoretus, Interpretatio in epistulam ad
Hebraeos in PG 82, 673-76).
60 John Damascene, Commentarii in epistolam ad Hebraeos, PG 95, 929-997. For the note on
authorship see, p. 996. See on the Greek Fathers Rowan A. Greer, The Captain of our
Salvation. A Study in the Patristic Exegesis of Hebrews (Beitrge zur Geschichte der
Biblischen Exegese 15; Tbingen, 1973).
61 Charles Kannengiesser, Handbook of Patristic Exegesis. The Bible in Ancient Christianity
(Leiden Boston: Brill, 2006), 358-61; Alexander Souter, Earliest Latin Commentaries on
the Epistles of St. Paul. A Study (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1927; 1999). For the subscriptions see Metzger, A Textual Commentary, 678. On Pelagius see Ps-Pelagius, Fragmenta in
epistulam ad Hebraeos, in PLS 1, 1685-87 (on Hebrews 2-3). Rainer Riesner, Der HebrerBrief nach Altkirchlichen Zeugnissen, European Journal of Theology 11/1 (2002), 21
(15-29).
62 Ambrosiaster, Commentarius in epistulas Paulinas pars tertia (CSEL 81/3), 296.
63 Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. New Testament X: Hebrews, p. XIX.
262
de Boer
(as purged by Cassiodorus).64 Neither Jerome nor Augustine expounded the

Letter to the Hebrews. The latter referred regularly, when quoting a verse, to
the letter with the heading To the Hebrews.65 The Council of Carthage in 397
finally registered Hebrews among the scripturae canonicae the pauli apostoli
epistolae xiiii, sealing this tradition on the authorship also for the West.66

Paul and Barnabas, (Acts 14:14)
There is one word group in Hebrews which might contain a hint at the authors
name. Luke explained the given name Barnabas as , son of
encouragement (Acts 4:36). In the postscript of Hebrews the author encourages () his readers to bear with (Heb.
13:22). This is a rhetorical term for an exhortatory address, used expressly in
Lukes tale of Paul and his companions visiting the synagogue in Antioch in
Pisidia (Acts 13:15). It is possible that a pun was intended, hinting at the authors
given name with which he was known as apostle next to Paul. On the way back
towards Antioch in Syria, Paul and Barnabas are mentioned together as (Acts 14:14). This literary reminiscence squares with the fact that the text
of Hebrews was transmitted at an early stage firmly attached to the corpus paulinum and never included in a codex of Catholic Letters. When Hebrews was
included in or attached to the codex of Pauls Letters, the titulus was not copied. So it also was with Pauls Letters, which begin with an identification of the
author by way of salutation to the readers, but also lack a titulus (which the
Catholic Letters do have).
The only trace of possible independent circulation and an original letter
heading or library tag is found in Tertullian, De pudicitia 20. That he accepted
the literary reference to Barnabas as author does not contradict Origens
impression that the style and composition [of Hebrews] belong to one who
called to mind the apostle [Paul]s teaching and, as it were, made short notes of
what his master said.67 When Hebrews is regarded as close to Pauls Letters in
contents, it is possible that Barnabas wrote it and Paul was responsible for the
64 Souter, Earliest Latin Commentaries, 210. Cf. Ad Hebraeos divi Pauli epistola, in PL 68, 685794 (Primasius of Hadrumetum); attributed to Cassiodorus by Kannengiesser, Handbook
of Patristic Exegesis, 361.
65 E.g. Augustinus, De Genesi ad litteram 10, 19.34; De civitate Dei XVI 22.
66 Breviarium hipponense in: Concilia Africae A. 345-A. 525, ed. C. Munier (CCSL149; Turnhout,
1974), 43.
67 In Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. VI 25.13.
263
postscript. In New Testament scholarship the theory has been advanced that
Hebrews 13:20-25 is a cover letter, written by someone else than the writer of
the preceding letter.68 When the postscript is regarded as Pauline, then it was
he who hinted at the [] in writing Hebrews 13:22.
Conclusions
In the Latin Church Tertullian had a manuscript of the Letter to the Hebrews
which attributed it to Barnabas. Traces of this tradition are preserved until the
fourth century. This evidence was contradicted by the Eastern tradition, which
ascribed Hebrews to Paul, Luke, and/or Clement. Origens resigned dictum
Whoever wrote the epistle, in truth only God knows is still a safe conclusion.69 Yet, he himself is part of the Greek patristic tradition in which an
amount of doubt regarding Pauline authorship remained known (Origen,
Eusebius). Besides Paul and Barnabas, no other candidates for the authorship
of Hebrews are found in patristic sources. It is only in early and late modern
times that other names as possible authors are suggested, such as Apollos
(Martin Luther) or Priscilla (Adolph von Harnack).
The earliest and very pointed testimony on Hebrews in the West is a tradition attested by Tertullian, which points to a manuscript with the letterhead
Barnabas to the Hebrews. This strand can be followed through the Codices
Ambrosianus and Claromontanus, and in Filastrius of Brescia. Tertullians
early, pronounced, and detailed testimony merits more credit than is often
given to him. In time it stands besides Clements identification of Paul as the
essential author (as transmitted by Eusebius). Around the same time, especially in Rome, the probable birthplace of Hebrews, doubt remained regarding
Pauline authorship (Novatian, Gaius).
When writing on second penance in De pudicitia, Tertullian presented
Hebrews as an additional apostolic authority to his readers. Coming close to
the peroration of his treatise, Tertullian could not afford to lean on a book
which had a less than firm status in the Churches. The extensive quote from
Chapter 6 would undermine his ethical stand when the Letter to the Hebrews
did not carry any weight. Therefore he enforces its authority by providing information on his source and its titulus, while outlining the position of Barnabas
among the apostles. Tertullian thus regarded the apostolicity of Barnabae ad
Hebraeos as established.
68
69
See Rothschild, Hebrews as Pseudepigraphon, 46-62.

As quoted by Eusebius in Hist. Eccl. VI 25.14.
Vigiliae
Christianae
brill.com/vc
The Prospect of a Christian Interpolation in

Tacitus, Annals 15.44
Richard Carrier
Independent scholar
www.richardcarrier.info
Abstract
Some scholars have argued that Tacitus reference to Christ in connection with the
burning of Rome under Nero is a 4th century (or later) interpolation. It is here argued
that their arguments can be met with no strong rebuttal, and therefore the key sentence
in Tacitus referring to Christ should be considered suspect.
Keywords
Tacitus Chrestus Christ Christians interpolation
Throughout the years a few scholars have argued that some or all of Tacitus
report about Christians in connection with the burning of Rome under Nero is
a 4th century (or later) interpolation and not original to Tacitus.1 Building on
their arguments, I find that an interpolation of a single key line in this passage
1 For surveys see Robert Van Voorst, Jesus Outside the New Testament: An Introduction to the
Ancient Evidence (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans, 2000), pp. 42-43; and
Herbert W. Benario, Recent Work on Tacitus (1964-1968), The Classical World 63.8 (April
1970), pp. 253-66 [see pp. 264-65] and Recent Work on Tacitus (1974-1983), The Classical
World 80.2 (Nov.-Dec. 1986)], pp. 73-147 [see p. 139]. The two most recent (and most important) examples are Jean Roug, Lincendie de Rome en 64 et lincendie de Nicomdia en 303,
Mlanges dhistoire ancienne offerts William Seston (Paris: E. de Boccard, 1974), pp. 433-41;
and Earl Doherty, Jesus: Neither God nor Man: The Case for a Mythical Jesus (Ottawa: Age of
Reason Publications, 2009), pp. 596-630.
koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 4|doi .6/577-47
The Prospect of a Christian Interpolation in Tacitus
265
is reasonably likely, and therefore that line should be considered suspect.

Though we cant be certain, the evidence suggests it probably is an interpolation,
and Tacitus did not refer to Christ. That suspect line is auctor nominis
eius Christus Tiberio imperitante per procuratorem Pontium Pilatum supplicio
adfectus erat, The author of this name, Christ, was executed by the procurator
Pontius Pilate in the reign of Tiberius.2 With this line included, I shall call the
whole account of the persecution of Christians in Tacitus the Testimonium
Taciteum (Tacitus, Annals 15.44).

The Base Rate of Interpolation in Christian-Controlled Literature
Spanning the first three centuries the number of non-Christian references to

Jesus numbers fewer than 10 and the number of interpolations among them
numbers at least 1, for a base rate of interpolation equal to more than 1 in 10.
The apparent rate is actually an astonishing 1 in 3, but I will assume that this
evident rate is highly biased by the small sample size, and conclude instead
that the highest rate of fabrication reasonably possible was 1 out of every 10
references to Jesus in non-Christian sources.3 We could err even more on the
side of caution and say that that rate may have been twenty times lower, and
thus as low as 1 in 200 (meaning one out of every two hundred non-Christian
references to Jesus would be an interpolation). From the evidence we have I
believe it would be implausible to conclude the rate was any lower than that.
2 Translations are my own where not otherwise noted.
3 Van Voorst, Jesus Outside the New Testament, pp. 19-134 adduces only nine, and two of those
are not certain to contain mentions of Jesus (Suetonius and Mara bar Serapion), one is nonexistent (Thallus; we almost certainly have a direct quotation of his original words, from
which we can confirm Thallus did not mention Jesus: see Richard Carrier, Thallus and the
Darkness at Christs Death, Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism 8 [2011-2012]:
185-91), and two are certain to have suffered some degree of interpolation (Josephus: the
longer passage in whole or in part: Van Voorst, Jesus Outside the New Testament, pp. 81-103
and James Carleton Paget, Some Observations on Josephus and Christianity, Journal of
Theological Studies 52 [2001]: 539-624; and the shorter passage, in relevant part: see Richard
Carrier, Origen, Eusebius, and the Accidental Interpolation in Josephus, Jewish Antiquities
20.200, Journal of Early Christian Studies 20.4 [Winter 2012]: 489-514). That leaves only six
passages, two of which have suffered interpolations, for an apparent base rate of interpolation equal to 1 in every 3 passages. The survey of non-Christian references to Jesus in the first
three centuries in Gerd Theissen and Annette Merz, The Historical Jesus: A Comprehensive
Guide (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), pp. 63-124, does not expand on the list in Van Voorst.
266
Carrier
Consider the rate of interpolation in Christian books, for example. Even

counting just one instance per book (even though there are often more), the
New Testament contains at least five known interpolations in all its 27 books,
for a base rate of interpolation of no less than 1 in 5 (5/27 = 1/5.4), if we measure
by book. But we should measure by verse, not book, and count all interpolations, not just one per book. There are close to 8,000 verses in the New
Testament, of which at least 20 are known interpolations (and thats counting
only the most unquestionable cases in standard textual apparatuses; there are
actually many more), for a base rate of 1 in 400.4 The rate could appear much
higher in non-Christian sources due to the fact that the New Testament already
extensively favors what Christians want to have been said, and thus there was
less need of inventing witnesses to Jesus there, whereas the temptation to or
interest in finding witnesses in non-Christian authors was more compelling
and thus would have been more frequent. If it was even just twice as frequent,
we would have a rate of interpolation of 1 in 200, my minimum estimated rate;
while my maximum estimated rate is 1 in 10, based on observation. So the suggestion of an interpolation in Tacitus is not out of bounds, but within the range
of plausible events known to happen.

Evaluating the Evidence: Pliny the Younger
For context it is important to note that Pliny the Younger attests to a pervasive
ignorance of Christians and Christian beliefs among even the most informed
Roman elite at the time of Tacitus (between 110-120 a.d.).5 Notably, Pliny
was not only a contemporary of Tacitus but his good friend and regular
4 Mk. 7:16, 9:44, 9:46, 11:26, 16:9-20; Mt. 12:47, 17:21, 18:10, 21:44, 27:49b; Lk. 17:36, 22:43-44, 23:17,
23:34a; Jn. 5:4, 7:53-8:11; Acts 8:37, 15:34, 28:29; Rom. 16:24. And this list is a definite undercount
(especially for Luke-Acts, and especially considering known interpolations often not
included in standard textual apparatuses). So the actual rate was certainly higher than 1 in
400 and arguably nearer 1 in 200 (if for every example listed here we can add one other) or
even 1 in 100 (if for every example here listed we can find three others that probably should
be listed as well).
5 Pliny, Letters 10.96. See Van Voorst, Jesus Outside the New Testament, pp. 23-29; Theissen and
Merz, The Historical Jesus, pp. 79-83; and Bradley Peper and Mark DelCogliano, The Pliny
and Trajan Correspondence, in Amy-Jill Levine, Dale C. Allison, Jr., and John Dominic
Crossan, eds., The Historical Jesus in Context (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
2006), pp. 366-71.
267
correspondent.6 Pliny the Younger tells us he had never attended a trial of

Christians and knew nothing of what they believed or what crimes they were
guilty of. To redress his ignorance, Plinys procedure involved no independent
fact-checking (beyond an interrogation of local Christians), and from his
behavior and attitude we can conclude that this would have been typical, and
thus Tacitus is unlikely to have done more.
Pliny had been governing Bithynia for over a year already, before even learning there were any Christians in his province, and before that he held the post
of consul (the highest office in the Roman Empire, short of being Emperor). He
had also been a lawyer in Roman courts for several decades, then served in
Rome as Praetor (the ancient equivalent of both chief of police and attorney
general), and then served as one of Trajans top legal advisors for several years,
before he was appointed to govern Bithynia.7 And yet, he tells us, after all that,
he still knew next to nothing about Christians and had never witnessed a trial
of them. This verifies that Christians were extremely obscure, and their beliefs
and origins entirely unknown to the highest and most experienced Roman
legal authorities. Tacitus is not likely to have been any better informed, indeed
insofar as he was informed at all it would most likely have been through his
6 Pliny and Tacitus exchanged many letters (not just the ones in which Tacitus asks for information to add to his history in Pliny the Younger, Letters 6.16; also 6.20, note this was a quite
personal question, and 7.33), had worked side-by-side in the Senate (Letters 2.11.2), and on
political campaigns in which they were on intimate terms (Letters 6.9); they had several intimate friends in common (Letters 1.6, 4.15.1, and 7.20.6); Pliny admired Tacituss oratorical
skills (Letters 2.1.6) and writing (Letters 9.23.2) and talked them up to everyone; Pliny indicates he often visited with Tacitus, was always keen to be informed of his well-being, and
trusted him with personal favors that he normally discussed with him in person and which
he surely would never ask some distant acquaintance (Letters 4.13); Pliny wrote Tacitus letters
about events in his personal life and gave him advice (Letters 1.6) and seeks and trusts his
advice in turn (Letters 1.20); Pliny also sent intimate but admiring letters to him (e.g., Letters
9.14); they shared and discussed each others poetry (Letters 9.10); and Tacitus asked Pliny to
read advanced drafts of his histories and mark them up with advice and criticism, while Pliny
asked the same of Tacitus (Letters 7.20 and 8.7); finally, Pliny outright calls Tacitus his friend
(Letters 6.16.22) and says the tale will everywhere be told of the harmony, frankness, and
loyalty of our lifelong friendship (Letters 7.20.2) and our love should be still the warmer
because of all their friends and work in common (Letters 7.20.7).
7 For summary and bibliography: A.N. Sherwin-White and Simon Price, Pliny (2) the Younger,
in Simon Hornblower and Antony Spawforth, eds., Oxford Classical Dictionary, 3rd ed. (New
York: Oxford University Press, 1996), p. 1198.
268
Carrier
very friend and correspondent, Pliny.8 Otherwise, from having completed a

similar career, Tacitus would likely know only as much as Pliny did before his
interrogationswhich is only that Christians existed and were in some vague
fashion criminals.

Evaluating the Evidence: Pliny the Elder
There were several eyewitness historical accounts written about Neros reign
that have become lost. Cluvius Rufus, Neros herald, is known to have written
an eyewitness account of Neros reign sometime in the 70s a.d. As did Fabius
Rusticus, an author we know Tacitus used.9 But the most extensive account
was that of Pliny the Elder (killed during the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 a.d.),
who had written a monumental 31 volume history beginning in the 30s, dedicating an entire volume to each year, including every year of Neros reign, and
this Tacitus also employed as a source.10
Plinys history would certainly have included his own account of the burning of Rome in 64 a.d. and subsequent events. Most likely a resident of Rome
at the time, his information would have been first hand. He would surely have
recorded how it degenerated into the execution of scores if not hundreds of
Christians for the crime of burning the city of Rome, surely the single most
famous event of that or any adjacent year. If that in fact happened. And such
an account would surely have included any necessary digressions on the origins of Christianity. We know, for example, Pliny believed Nero had started the
fire deliberately, lamenting in his Natural History that it destroyed ancient
trees invaluable to botanical science.11
However, it is unlikely Pliny mentioned Christians in his account of the fire.
Because his nephew and adopted son Pliny the Younger was an avid admirer
and reader of his uncles works and thus would surely have read his account of
the burning of Rome, and therefore would surely have known everything about
8
Tacitus was even governing the neighboring province of Asia when Pliny interrogated
Christians in Bithynia (and we know Tacitus consulted with Pliny on information to
include in his histories: see earlier note), making communication between them on the
Christian matter very likely: see Tacitus (1), in Simon and Spawforth, Oxford Classical
Dictionary, pp. 1469-71; and Stephen Benko, Pagan Criticism of Christianity During the
First Two Centuries A.D., Aufstieg und Niedergang der rmischen Welt II 23.2 (1980),
p. 1063.
9 Tacitus, Annals 13.20, 15.61; Agricola 10.3.
10 Tacitus, Annals 1.69, 13.20, 15.53; Histories 3.29; Pliny the Younger, Letters 6.16.
11 Pliny the Elder, Natural History 17.1.5.
269
Christians that Pliny the Elder recorded. Yet in his correspondence with Trajan,
Pliny indicates a complete lack of knowledge, making no mention of his uncle
having said anything about them, or about their connection in any way to the
burning of Rome (and yet, whether believed to be a false charge or not, that
would surely be pertinent to Plinys inquest, in many respects). Corroborating
this conclusion is the fact that no one else ever mentions, cites, or quotes Pliny
the Elder providing any testimony to Christ or Christians (as likely Christians
or their critics would have done, if such an invaluably early reference existed).
Indeed, his history would likely have been preserved had that been the case
(since mentions of Christ seem to have been a motive for preserving texts in
general: the works of Josephus and Tacitus may have survived the Middle Ages
for precisely that reason).
And if Pliny the Elder, of all people, did not mention Christians in connection with the fire, no other historian is likely to have. Which conclusion is corroborated again by the fact that no one ever mentions, cites, or quotes any of
them providing any testimony to Christ or Christians, either (as likely Christians
or their critics would have done, if any such existed).

Evaluating the Evidence: Suetonius
Suetonius attests to a persecution of Christians under Nero, but is evidently

unaware of this having any connection to the burning of Rome.12 Among a list
of various, briefly-mentioned legal crackdowns during the reign of Nero,
Suetonius includes the remark that afflicti suppliciis Christiani, genus hominum
superstitionis novae ac maleficae, punishments were inflicted on the Christians,
a class of men given to a new and wicked superstition, but not, apparently, for
the crime of arson, legitimate or contrived, much less the atrocity of burning
down Rome.13
One could conjecture that this line originally read Chrestiani (later corrected in transmission), and thus referred to the Jewish rioters that (as we shall
see) Suetonius reported had begun to make trouble under Claudius. Its also
possible that this line was an accidental interpolation of a marginal note summarizing the Testimonium Taciteum.14 But I shall not explore either possibility
12
See Van Voorst, Jesus Outside the New Testament, pp. 29-39; Theissen and Merz, The
Historical Jesus, pp. 83-85.
13 Suetonius, Nero 16.2.
14 Argued by Stephen Dando-Collins, The Great Fire of Rome: The Fall of the Emperor Nero
and His City (Cambridge: Da Capo Press, 2010), p. 6; and Doherty, Jesus: Neither God nor
270
Carrier
here. I will simply assume the passage is authentic as we have it. As such, it
confirms that Suetonius, a prominent and erudite Latin author and imperial
librarian, knew nothing of any connection between Christians and the burning of Rome. He knew only that Nero had executed some Christians in Rome,
possibly for sorcery (malefica superstitio), as part of his overall plan to enforce
a stricter moral order in the city (which is the overall context of the remark).
Elsewhere, Suetonius says of the emperor Claudius that Iudaeos impulsore
Chresto assidue tumultuantis Roma expulit, since Jews constantly made disturbances at the instigation of Chrestus, he expelled them from Rome, in a section listing various brief examples of how Claudius treated foreigners.15 Such
an expulsion of all Jews from Rome would have been a near impossibility.
There would have been tens of thousands of Jews in Rome at the time, complete with extensive real estate, synagogues, businesses, as well as countless
Jewish slaves in both private and public hands that would have been indispensable to the urban economy, not to mention an enormous challenge to
locate and drive out.16 In fact, we learn from Cassius Dio that as for the Jews,
who had again increased so greatly that by reason of their multitude it would
have been hard without raising a tumult to bar them from the city, Claudius
did not drive them out, but ordered them, while continuing their traditional
mode of life, not to hold meetings, which is a far more plausible report.17 Its
Man, pp. 616-18. The language of the line as we have it is certainly not in Suetonian style
and reflects a Latin idiom that arose after his time: see K. R. Bradley, Suetonius, Nero 16.2:
afflicti suppliciis Christiani, The Classical Review 22.1 (March 1972): 9-10. Although Bradley
argues that this means the text was corrupted and should be restored to align with a paraphrase of Orosius and the known style of Suetonius, an interpolation would explain the
same evidence. And if we must emend this passage, as Bradley says, to guarantee its
authenticity, we could just as soon emend Christians to Chrestians as well.
15 Suetonius, Claudius 25.4. See commentary in J. Mottershead, Claudius / Suetonius (Bristol:
Bristol Classical Press, 1986), pp. 149-57 (Appendix 2).
16 Various estimates of the Jewish population of Rome are made in E. Mary Smallwood, The
Jews under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian (Leiden: Brill, 1976) and Harry Leon,
The Jews of Ancient Rome, updated edition (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson Publishers,
1995).
17 Dio Cassius, Roman History 60.6.6 (translation by Earnest Cary, Loeb Classics edition).
The fifth century Orosius, in A History against the Pagans 7.6.15-16, claims Josephus
reported this expulsion, but there is no mention of this in Josephus extant works (Orosius
is probably confusing this with an expulsion incident under Tiberius, which is mentioned
by Josephus); see Leonard Victor Rutgers, Roman Policy towards the Jews: Expulsions
from the City of Rome during the First Century C.E., Classical Antiquity 13.1 (April 1994):
56-74. Orosius also produces Christus instead of Chrestus in his quotation of Suetonius
here, and thus assumes Suetonius was speaking of riots over Christianity.
271
still possible some select Jews were expelled (or left of their own accord), as
Suetonius does not actually say all Jews were expelled, but only that Jews
were. But a total expulsion cannot really be believed.18
Neither Suetonius nor Dio show any knowledge of this decree (or the riot
inspiring it) being in any way connected to Christians; nor, apparently, did
Tacitussince if the Testimonium Taciteum is authentic, it was clearly the
first reference Tacitus had made to Christians, therefore he cannot have mentioned Christ or Christians in connection with this riot or decree under
Claudius. In fact not even Acts (cf. 18:2) shows any awareness of this expulsion
being connected to Christians, yet the author of Acts would certainly have
made use of the fact that the Jews were making trouble for Christians in Rome
and were duly punished for it by the emperor, so we can be fairly certain no
such thing occurred (and thus no such rhetorical coup was available to the
author of Acts). Suetonius clearly wrote that the riots were instigated by
Chrestus himself (impulsore Chresto means because of the impulsor Chrestus,
an impulsor being a man who instigates something, not the reason for instigating it), and so it cannot plausibly be argued that this meant Jesus, who was
neither alive nor in Rome at any time under Claudius.19 Note, also, that Acts
28:22-24 depicts Jews at Rome knowing little about Christianity (and nothing
bad, other than that people spoke against it), which hardly makes sense (even
as an authorial invention) if it was known the whole Jewish population of Rome
had rioted over it just a decade before. Likewise that Paul saw no need to address
this in his letter to the Romans further suggests no such thing had occurred.
Moreover, if the other passage in Suetonius has been soundly transmitted
(documenting the Neronian persecution), then Suetonius knew the difference
between Christians and Jews, and would have commented on the fact had
Christians (much less Christ) been in any way the cause of these riots. Many
scholars nevertheless try to press this evidence in that direction, but from the
parallel passage in Dio, and the reports of Acts and the silence of Romans (and
the evident silence of Tacitus), its simply not likely. This incident was more
18
19
Acts 18:2 is alone in saying all the Jews were expelled, but its reliability on this point is
doubtful: see Richard Pervo, Acts: A Commentary (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2009), pp.
446-47.
The use of Chresto in place of Christo, though a linguistic possibility (as well as a possible corruption in transmission), is nevertheless not a necessary conjecture, as Chrestus
was a common name. See Stephen Benko, The Edict of Claudius of A.D. 49 and the
Instigator Chrestus, Theologische Zeitschrift 25 (1969): 407-408; and Dixon Slingerland,
Chrestus: Christus? in A.J. Avery-Peck, ed., New Perspectives on Ancient Judaism, Vol. 4:
The Literature of Early Rabbinic Judaism (Lanham, MD: 1989), pp. 133-44.
272
Carrier
likely city-wide violence ginned up by a Jewish demagogue named Chrestus

(a common name in Rome at the time), as many scholars agree. And that was
likely a man well known to Suetonius and his peers, thus explaining why he did
not digress to explain who he was. This is significant because it informs the
possible meaning of the passage in Tacitus, to which we now turn.

Evaluating the Evidence: Tacitus
In our present text of the Annals of Tacitus, we learn that Nero scapegoated
the Christians for burning down most of the city of Rome in 64 a.d.20 The text
now reads:
Nero found culprits and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on those
hated for their abominations, whom the people called Chrestians [sic].
The author of this name, Christ, was executed by the procurator Pontius
Pilate in the reign of Tiberius, and the most mischievous superstition,
thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judea, the
source of this evil, but even in Rome, where all things hideous or shameful flow in from every part of the world and become popular.
Accordingly, arrests were first made of those who confessed; then,
upon their information, an immense multitude was convicted, not so
much for the crime of burning the city as because of the hatred of mankind. Mockery of every sort was added to their death.... [Tacitus then
describes their torments]...Hence, even for criminals who deserved the
most extreme punishments, there arose a feeling of compassion; for it no
longer appeared that they were being destroyed for the public good, but
rather to satisfy the cruelty of one man.
The key line here is the author of this name, Christ, was executed by the procurator Pontius Pilate in the reign of Tiberius. This is the first clear reference to
a historical Jesus outside the New Testament, dating to around 116 a.d.21
20 Tacitus, Annals 15.44. See Van Voorst, Jesus Outside the New Testament, pp. 39-53; and
Theissen and Merz, The Historical Jesus, pp. 79-83.
21 On the date: in Tacitus, Annals 2.61 and 4.4-5 allusions are made to Trajans annexation of
Parthian territories in 116 a.d. but not their loss a year or two later. On this being the earliest reference to Jesus: the two references to Jesus in Josephus would be earlier (dating to
just after the year 93 a.d.), if they were authentic, but that is doubtful (see Carrier, Origen,
Eusebius).
273
If that key line is authentic. The first clue it might not be is that our one
manuscript containing this passage had originally spelled the persecuted
group as the Chrestians, not the Christians, and this was subsequently corrected by erasure.22 To explain this, it is more likely that Tacitus originally
wrote chrestianos, Chrestians, than that this was produced by subsequent
error from Christians and then corrected back again.23 And if thats the case,
its not believable that Tacitus would have explained the name Chrestians
using the name Christus. Instead, obviously, he would use Chrestus. Which
may also have been the original reading here, corrected earlier in the texts
transmission history.24 I think its more likely that Tacitus had already explained
who the Chrestians were in his account of the Chrestus riots (those also
recorded by Suetonius), which would have appeared in his section of the
Annals for the early years of the reign of Claudius, now lost.25 If that is the case,
then what would become the Testimonium Taciteum was originally about the
sect of Jewish rebels first suppressed under Claudius, who were at that time led
by their namesake Chrestus and were thereafter named for him (whether he
was still alive or not). Several scholars have suggested this possibility.26
22
23
24
25
26
This was most extensively demonstrated in Harald Fuchs, Tacitus ber die Christen,
Vigiliae Christianae 4.2 (April 1950): 65-93 (who also brings up other stylistic difficulties
with the passage, to no certain conclusion); see also Heinz Heubner, Zu Tac. Ann. 15, 44,
4, Hermes 87.2 (August 1959): 223-30. I had my own doubts until they were met by Erk
Zara, whose personal report on the condition of the manuscript in question, The
Chrestianos Issue in Tacitus Reinvestigated (2009), can be accessed at http://www.textexcavation.com/documents/zaratacituschrestianos.pdf.
This is also the opinion of leading experts on the matter: see Van Voorst, Jesus Outside the
New Testament, pp. 43-46.
Robert Renehan, Christus or Chrestus in Tacitus? La Parola del Passato 122 (1968):
368-70.
Dio dates the associated decree to the year 41 a.d. A date of 49 has alternately been suggested, based on an unreliable report in Orosius, but Tacitus makes no mention of such an
incident in his treatment of that year (which we have), yet surely he would have, so it
more likely appeared in his treatment of the year 41, which is lost.
See Erich Koestermann, Ein folgenschwerer Irrtum des Tacitus (Ann. 15, 44, 2ff.)?
Historia: Zeitschrift fr Alte Geschichte 16.4 (September 1967): 456-69; Josef Ceska, Tacitovi
Chrestiani a apokalyptick cslo, Listy Filologick 92.3 (Sept. 1969): 239-49; and Charles
Saumagne, Tacite et saint Paul, Revue Historique 232.1 (1964), pp. 67-110 and Les
Incendiaires de Rome (ann. 64 p. C.) et les lois pnales des Romains (Tacite, Annales, XV,
44), Revue Historique 227.2 (1962), pp. 337-360. Saumagne argues that the line about
Christ being crucified under Tiberius was later transferred here from a now-lost section of
the Histories of Tacitus that, he proposes, actually was about Christians, which passage
Saumagne presumes to have been the source for a later account found in Sulpicius
274
Carrier
In that event, Tacitus originally wrote that Nero put the blame on quos per
flagitia invisos vulgus Chrestianos appellabat repressaque in praesens exitiabilis
superstitio rursum erumpebat, non modo per Iudaeam, originem eius mali, sed
per urbem etiam, those whom the people called the Chrestians, who were [i.e.
already] despised for their shameful deeds; and though this despicable superstition had been suppressed for a time, it had erupted again, not only in Judea,
the origin of this evil, but also in the city. The entire line in between (the
author of this name, Christ, was executed by the procurator Pontius Pilate in
the reign of Tiberius) would then be a later Christian interpolation, attempting to convert this passage about the Chrestians into a Neronian persecution of
Christians. This, too, has been proposed before.27 And there are good arguments in its favor.
First, the text flows logically and well with the line removed. Second, the
notion that there was a huge multitude (multitudo ingens) of Christians in
Rome to persecute, though not impossible, is somewhat suspect; whereas, by
contrast, Jews were present by the tens of thousands, and there were already
enough Chrestus-followers under Claudius to result in a city-wide action
against them. Third, it is not clear why Tacitus, much less the general public (as
he implies), would regard the Christians as criminals who deserved the most
extreme punishments merely for being in thrall to a vulgar superstition (which
was actually not even a crime, much less a capital one).28 But if these were the
27
28
Severus (Chronicle 2.30.6-7), on which possibility see, more recently, Eric Laupot, Tacitus
Fragment 2: The Anti-Roman Movement of the Christiani and the Nazoreans, Vigiliae
Christianae 54.3 (2000): 233-47. Although I believe the material in Severus more likely
derives from another source shared by Orosius (History against the Pagans 7.9.4-6), not
Tacitus (Orosius concluded his history twenty years after Severus, yet clearly drew the
same information Severus employs from a source unfamiliar with the account in either
Severus or Tacitus). Although if at all Tacitean, it is possible the original passage referred
to the Chrestiani, and Severus has again only assumed Tacitus meant Christians (see earlier note).
Most convincingly by Jean Roug, Lincendie de Rome, and in a different respect by
Saumagne (see previous note). Earl Doherty, an undergraduate in classics, also details a
respectable argument to the same conclusion, in line with Roug (see first note). A similar
case for interpolation, suggesting it may have begun as a marginal gloss later inserted
accidentally, has also been made online by Roger Viklund, Tacitus as a Witness to Jesus
An Illustration of What the Original Might Have Looked Like, Jesus Granskad (2 October
2010) at http://rogerviklund.wordpress.com/2010/10/02/. On accidental interpolation as a
general phenomenon see Carrier, Origen, Eusebius, pp. 490-91.
Christians came to later be policed for violating general laws against illegal assembly and,
ultimately, treasonously refusing to bless the emperors guardian spirit (the Roman equiv-
275
Chrestians who were already hated for their previous urban violence (which
Tacitus would have recounted in an earlier book, when he treated the Chrestus
riots also mentioned by Suetonius), their deserving of extreme punishments
would be a more intelligible sentiment. Fourth, Tacitus says the people called
them Chrestians, vulgus Chrestianos appellabat, notably the past tense.29 Why
would he not use the present tense if he believed the group was still extant, as
Christians were? In fact, Tacitus makes no explicit mention of this group still
being extant in his own day (notably unlike the Testimonium Flavianum,
which does).30 So it would appear this was a group that Tacitus believed no
29
30
alent of a Pledge of Allegiance), as reported in Pliny the Younger, Letters 10.96-97 (compare 10.34). See also: W.H.C. Frend, Martyrdom and Political Oppression, in Philip Esler,
ed., The Early Christian World, vol. 1 (2000): pp. 815-39; Naphtali Lewis and Meyer Reinhold,
Roman Civilization: Selected Readings, 3rd ed., vol. 2 (1990): 51-52 (see also 169 and n. 37
in 68); and Timothy Barnes, Legislation Against the Christians, Journal of Roman
Studies 58 (1968): pp. 32-50. Even then there is no reliable evidence they were ever prosecuted for such crimes in the first century (the book of Acts, for example, evinces the contrary, never depicting Romans prosecuting Christians at all and even rejecting their
prosecution, e.g. Acts 18:12-17, 23:26-35, 26:24-32, although that could be a fabrication),
and Tacitus does not mention either as being their crimes in this case. The only crime the
victims in this account are charged with is arson; Tacitus indicates they were also widely
believed to have been guilty of crimes deserving of the worst possible punishments,
which would have to be crimes more severe than mere illegal assembly or want of
allegiance.
Its also not credible that Christians would be so well known then that the people (vulgus) would already have named them and formed popular beliefs about them; whereas if
Tacitus was referring to present beliefs, he would use the present tense. Christianity was
surely far too obscure in 64 for the vulgus even to know of them (we must remember that
the population of Rome at the time approached a million people), much less have named
them or known anything about them, given that it was barely any less obscure to Pliny the
Younger almost half a century later, as we previously saw. If Pliny knew nothing about
Christians, neither would the people in Rome a whole lifetime before him (see Candida
Moss, The Myth of Persecution: How Early Christians Invented a Story of Martyrdom [New
York: HarperOne, 2013], pp. 138-39). This conclusion is not mitigated by the legend
recounted in Acts 11:26 (on the origination of the name Christian in Antioch), even if
that legend is true (Pervo is skeptical: Acts: A Commentary, pp. 294-95), because it does
not refer to the people of Rome (or any population near Rome), nor does it say the appellation was used by the general populace, or even widely known, in Antioch or anywhere
else (only that it was then coined).
The Testimonium Flavianum is the longer passage in Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 18.63-64,
which is almost certainly an interpolation (see earlier note), but in any event concludes
and even until now the tribe of Christians, so named from this man, has not gone extinct.
276
Carrier
longer existed (probably having been expunged or disbanded since the Jewish
War, if not already decisively ended by Neros mass executions).31
But fifth, and most convincingly, there is no evidence that this event happened. The burning of Rome itself is well attested, by both literary and physical
evidence.32 But no one seems to have ever known Christians were in any way
connected with it, until late in the 4th century. The Letters of Seneca and Paul
(a late 4th century forgery), epistle 12, is the first mention of the event in such
a connection, claiming Christiani et Iudaei quasi machinatores incendii
pro!supplicio adfecti, quod fieri solet, Oh! Christians and Jews have even
been executed as contrivers of the fire, like usual! This account does not align
with Tacitus in any other specifics, beyond common tropes and lore, so its
source is uncertain. As a forgery this text could simply be reflecting a circulating legend of the time, and embellishing freely. But it is also possible that this
is the origination of the legend, which then inspired the interpolation in
Tacitus at a later date. That this remark assumes it was already usual to blame
Christians for such things confirms its late date (as it presumes a centuries long
history of persecution), and also suggests a precedent for inventing it.33
The first direct attestation to the Testimonium Taciteum is usually said to be
the 5th century text of Sulpicius Severus, Chronicle 2.29-30, which certainly
31
32
33
I do not credit the argument, however, though sometimes made, that calling Pilate a
procurator is evidence of Christian authorship. There is abundant evidence that Pilate
was both a procurator and a prefect (that in fact most equestrian governors were), and
Tacitus would have a sufficient rhetorical reason to prefer the former (it was more embarrassing to be executed by a mere business manager). Though this is inessential to my
argument here, for anyone who wishes to know more, summaries of the evidence and
scholarship supporting it is available in two online briefs: Richard Carrier, On the Dual
Office of Procurator and Prefect (2012) (http://www.richardcarrier.info/TheProvincial
Procurator.pdf) and Richard Carrier, Herod the Procurator: Was Herod the Great a
Roman Governor of Syria? (2011), pp. 34-36 (http://www.richardcarrier.info/
HerodSyrianGovernor.pdf).
Dio Cassius, Roman History 62.16-18 recounts the event of the fire but omits any mention
of who was punished or blamed (other than Nero); Pliny the Elder, Natural History 17.1.5
mentions Nero burning the city and assumes he was to blame for it. For other evidence
(including epigraphic and archaeological) see: Edward Champlin, Nero (Cambridge,
Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2003), pp. 122, 125, 178-200, with corresponding endnotes.
For example, Pauls threat to Nero in Acts of Paul 11:3 (a late second century text that was
predominately fictional) that God would burn the world with fire, resulting in Nero burning Pauls companions instead, is a possible inspiration. Knowledge that in fact Jews (the
Chrestians) were burned for burning Rome would then explain the insertion of Christian
victims among them.
277
draws on this passage from Tacitus, but notably it does not attest the suspect
line. So it is possible Sulpicius simply assumed Chrestians meant Christians
(just as Orosius assumed the Chrestus of Suetonius was Christ), and thus he
might not even have been looking at an interpolated manuscript. Before these
two texts, there is no evidence anyone had ever heard of Nero persecuting
Christians in connection with the burning of Rome. And that is extraordinarily
peculiar.

Evaluating the Evidence: Unlikely Silence
We are faced with only three possibilities: (1) no such persecution happened
and Tacitus invented it (perhaps by deliberately conflating a separate persecution with his account of the fire, to further darken the reputation of Nero), or
(2) no such persecution happened and Tacitus never connected Christians
with the fire, but only the Jewish sectarians inspired by Chrestus, in the
manner I just proposed (which might explain why the Letters of Seneca and
Paul say Nero punished Christians and Jews for the fire), or (3) the persecution
happened, in connection with the fire, and Tacitus recorded it (even if
exaggerating).
The third of these possibilities can be ruled out on the grounds that there
would very likely have been a strong and widely-referenced Christian tradition
deriving from it, widely enough in fact to be evident in extant literature. But no
such Christian tradition exists. It is wholly unheard of in all extant Christian
memory, until the later 4th century, and there only in a patent forgery (and we
shall explore this argument from silence in a moment). The first possibility can
be ruled improbable on the same grounds. Although ignorance of a fabricated
tale in Tacitus might be more likely than ignorance of a genuine event, its still
unlikely. Such a thesis would have an even lower probability because it requires
the ad hoc supposition of specifically deceptive behavior from Tacitus. These
considerations together would render it no more or less likely than the third
option, so I will treat the first and third options as two versions of the same
one thesis: the Testimonium Taciteum was actually written by Tacitus as we
have it.34
34
A fourth possibility, a modification of the third, is that the story was invented by Christians
and simply bought by a gullible Tacitus. This can be discounted on the grounds that the
story would then be more widely evidenced throughout extant Christian literature (since
such a tale so widely disseminated among Christians that even Tacitus would have heard
of it, and even believe it, could not fail to appear somewhere in extant Christian literature
278
Carrier
Refuting the third option (that the event happened), we have elaborate
Christian accounts of Neros persecution of Christians, resulting in the deaths
of Peter and Paul, as related in the Acts of Paul and the Acts of Peter.35 Even
though those are certainly fabrications (their narratives are wildly implausible
in almost every conceivable detail), surely even a fabricator would use the
existing memory of the monstrous false persecution for arson that the present
text of Tacitus describes, and thus the story of the fire and subsequent scapegoating would feature prominently in their tales, a ripe context for condemning Nero and wallowing in its horrific details, as Christian martyrologies
regularly enjoyed doing. But instead, neither the Acts of Peter nor the Acts of
Paul show any knowledge of the fire or its connection to either the Christians,
the deaths of Peter and Paul, or Neros persecution of Christians generally. How
is that possible? It is not believable that Tacitus would know of such an enormous persecution event, but all subsequent Christians have no knowledge of it
for over two hundred years.
That makes the third option too improbable to credit. The more so when we
consider the whole of Christian literature up to the 4th century. In all such literature surviving, the only persecutions known under Nero are always those of
Peter and Paul (and some of their companions), as relayed in their respective
Acts; never any connection to the burning of Rome, or any kind of elaborate,
mass-scale event like that described in the extant text of Tacitus. And from this
evidence we can rule out the first option, too (that Tacitus invented it). For
example, Tertullian, a Latin author we know was familiar with the works of
Tacitus, says only to consult your histories: you will there find that Nero was
the first who assailed with the imperial sword the Christian sect, beginning
especially at Rome, and at last it was Neros savagery that sowed the seed of
Christian blood at Rome, in both cases in a context referencing the fates of
Peter and Paul (Paul having been beheaded, Peter crucified upside down, but
neither in any mass persecution).36 In asking why Christians are still persecuted, Tertullian says that under Nero [Christianity] came to be condemned,
yet, he says, this policy is continued even though every other policy of Neros
before the late 4th century). It is therefore at least as improbable as the first and third
options.
35 Peter: Oscar Cullmann, Peter: Disciple, Apostle, Martyr, new ed. (Waco, Tex.: Baylor
University Press, 2011), pp. 71-157; Paul: Dennis MacDonald, The Legend and the Apostle:
The Battle for Paul in Story and Canon (Philadelphia: Westminister, 1983).
36 Tertullian, Apology 5.3 and 21.25. That Tertullian knew the works of Tacitus is demonstrated in Tertullian, Apology 16 and Ad Nationes 1.11 and 2.12.
279
has itself been condemned.37 Tertullian gives no details. But its strange that he
makes no mention of the unjust charges it was then based on: arson, a charge
that could no longer be applied to Christians of Tertullians day, a point he
obviously would have made, had he known such a thing (and as a reader of
Tacitus, he would haveunless he did not see any mention of Christians in his
copy of the Annals).
Tertullian also gives us more detail elsewhere:
We read the Lives of the Caesars: at Rome Nero was the first to stain the
rising faith with blood. Thats when Peter is girded by another, when he is
fastened to the cross. Thats when Paul, the Roman citizen, gets his nativity, when there he is born again by the nobility of martyrdom.38
Here it is clear his only real source is the martyrdom tales of Peter and Paul
and perhaps the line about Nero persecuting Christians in the Lives of the
Caesars of Suetonius, if such was present in his copy. But as we saw, that, too,
fails to show any apparent knowledge that this persecution was linked with the
burning of Rome, even though Suetonius also covered that fire in some detail
(although he does not mention any scapegoats, Chrestians or Christians). Not
only would Tertullian (and as we shall see, Lactantius; and we must add to this
all Christian authors in Latin, extant and not) have remarked upon and made
use of any such tale told or invented by Tacitus, he (no less than they) would
have publicized its existence among the Christian community generally
hence such a valuable Christian gem of a passage would almost certainly be
more widely known than only among the usual readers of Tacitus. It would
have entered Christian lore and joined and influenced its growing body of martyrdom literature. Yet it didnt.
In Greek, we have Eusebius, who surveys all the persecutions he knew the
church had suffered, and he says he is aware of many treatises refuting the false
accusations of such persecutors as Nero. So he very likely would have known of
the arson charge, had it existed, as well as the whole tradition of the Neronian
persecution in connection with the fire, yet he never mentions either. Even
when he relates the persecutions under Nero, this never comes up.39 He is
completely ignorant of the event. Like Tertullian, Eusebius only knows of the
37 Tertullian, Ad Nationes 1.7.8.

38 Tertullian, Antidote for the Scorpions Sting 15.
39 Eusebius, History of the Church 2.25 (where he cites Tertullian as a source); cf. also 2.22, 3.1,
and 4.26 (for Eusebius knowledge of other sources).
280
Carrier
martyrdoms under Nero of Peter and Paul (and with them, at most, a few of
their colleagues).
Then there is the famous professor of Latin literature, learned Christian and
tutor to Constantine, Lactantius, who surely cannot have been ignorant of the
works of Tacitus (that would be impossible for any 4th century professor of
Latin). He wrote an entire book on the emperors who persecuted Christians,
and their fates, in which he details, again, the persecutions under Nero, yet
shows, again, no knowledge of the burning of Rome being involved with it, or
anything at all resembling what our text of Tacitus reports.40 Yet again, he only
knows of the martyrdoms of Peter and Paul (and some Christians attending
them). This is all but impossibleunless at that time the text of Tacitus did
not say Christians were the scapegoats for the fire, and the suspect line about
Christs execution under Pilate was not yet present.
This becomes all the more certain a conclusion when we look at what
Lactantius says regarding the persecution by Galerius (his contemporary), in
the late 3rd century:
Galerius...sought in another way to gain on the emperor. That he might
urge him to excess of cruelty in persecution, he employed private emissaries to set the palace [in Nicomedia] on fire; and some part of it having
been burnt, the blame was laid on the Christians as public enemies; and
the very appellation of Christian grew odious on account of that fire. It
was said that the Christians, in concert with the eunuchs, had plotted to
destroy the emperors; and that both of the emperors had nearly been
burnt alive in their own palace.
Diocletian, shrewd and intelligent as he always chose to appear, suspected nothing of the contrivance, but, inflamed with anger, immediately
commanded that all his own domestics should be tortured to force a confession of the plot. He sat on his tribunal, and saw innocent men tormented by fire to make discovery. All magistrates, and all who had
superintendency in the imperial palace, obtained special commissions to
administer the torture; and they strove with each other who should be
first in bringing to light the conspiracy....Presbyters and other officers of
the Church were seized, without evidence by witnesses or confession,
condemned, and together with their families led to execution. In burning
alive, no distinction of sex or age was regarded; and because of their great
multitude, they were not burnt one after another, but a herd of them were
encircled with the same fire; and servants, having millstones tied about
40 Lactantius, On the Manner in Which the Persecutors Died 3.
281
their necks, were cast into the sea...tortures, hitherto unheard of, were
invented.41
For this passage, Roug enumerates numerous parallels with the account of
the Neronian fire in Tacitus, and rightly concludes literary dependence is certain. The coincidences would otherwise be too improbable. Lactantius account
of the burning of Nicomedia employs Tacitus account of the burning of Rome
as a model. For example, both accounts mention agents being tasked with
starting the fire, and their attempts to start additional fires. Lactantius likewise
adapted the theme of rounding up scapegoats for the fire, and the barbaric and
innovative tortures applied to them, and the immense number of victims, and
the notion of a prejudicial hatred being attached to the name of Christian, all
features of Tacitus account.
This makes it likely that Tacitus wrote his account as we have it (and
Lactantius knew it well), but without any mention of Christ or Christians.
Otherwise, Lactantius would have certainly used that fact in his account earlier in this same book of the persecution under Nero, and might even have
drawn explicit parallels to it when developing his account of Galerius. Instead,
it appears that Lactantius only knew of a narrative in which Tacitus related the
scapegoating of the Chrestians, a belligerent band of Jews, and then used this
as a model to invent (or embellish) a scapegoating of Christians under Galerius.
Eusebius also relates the same tale of the Nicomedian fire, and he may have
been adapting Lactantius as a source, though he shows no specific knowledge
of the Neronian story or any similarities to it.42
In similar fashion, no other Christian literature before the late 4th century
shows any knowledge of the Neronian persecution being as exaggeratedly
elaborate as Tacitus describes, or being in any way connected with the burning
of Rome, even when discussing Neros treatment of Christians.43 The book of
41 Lactantius, On the Manner in Which the Persecutors Died 14-15 (translation by William
Fletcher, Ante-Nicene Fathers edition).
42 Eusebius, History of the Church 8.6.
43 References to it are absent also from the Acts of the NT (despite that being written most
likely in the late first or early second century: Richard Pervo, Dating Acts: Between the
Evangelists and the Apologists [Santa Rosa, CA: Polebridge, 2006] and Acts: A Commentary
[Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2009]). Nor is there any mention of it in 1 Clement,
despite that traditionally being written from Rome itself within decades of the supposed
event. 1 Clement chs. 5-6 discuss martyrdoms or persecutions only vaguely, naming only
Peter and Paul, mentioning various unnamed others, and giving no specifics that confirm
knowledge of the event described in the Testimonium Taciteum or even any particular
involvement of Nero. 1 Clem. 1:1 mentions a plurality of misfortunes and setbacks delaying
282
Carrier
Revelation also appears to have no knowledge of this. Neros burning of Rome

is almost certainly alluded to throughout Rev. 18, complete with the belief that
he tasked agents with starting the fire on purpose (Rev. 17:16).44 Though this
narrative says Rome will remain desolate forever, that didnt happen, so that is
either a metaphor, or an adapting of the known event to fantasize about Romes
expected apocalyptic future. But either way, the text shows no knowledge of
Christians being persecuted for it, or after it. To the contrary, it depicts the
burning of Rome as a punishment by God for Neros previous persecution of
Christians (Rev. 19:1-4; 17:12-14). Such an interpretation would be wholly
exploded if that fire were known to have been followed by Rome redounding
its wrath back upon Christianswithout some apologetic or apocalyptic
interpretation being added to it. That none was, means no such event was
known to the author of Revelation, yet that author knew well the event of the
fire and lived not long after it.
Conclusion
In the final analysis, given the immensity of the persecution Tacitus describes,
its scale in terms of the number of victims, its barbarity, and the injustice of it
being based on a false accusation of arson to cover up Neros own crimes, what
are the odds that no Christian would ever have heard of it or made use of it or
44
the letter, but being in the plural and without details we cannot connect that with any
particular event such as we now find in the Testimonium Taciteum. Nor is there any specific mention of it in the Christian redaction of the Sibylline Oracles, despite their summary of Neros crimes in 5.140-46. The Christian redaction of the Ascension of Isaiah
3:13-4:22 also refers to Nero executing some of the apostles and persecuting Christianity in
general, but once again makes no specific mention of the atrocity in the Testimonium
Taciteum.
That Nero is the target of Rev. 17-19: Elaine Pagels, Revelations: Visions, Prophecy, and
Politics in the Book of Revelation (New York: Viking, 2012), pp. 31-34. Rev. 17:10-11 says there
were five dead emperors, one living, and one to come who will stay awhile, and then one
of the five dead will return as an eighth (meaning Nero resurrected, as we know from later
legend). The five dead would most likely be Augustus, Tiberius, Claudius, Nero, and
Vespasian; Titus would then be the one now living, and Domitian the next to come and
rule for a while. As typical for apocalypses, this would be written as if predicting what in
fact had already occurred, which dates this text to the reign of Domitian, hence 80-96 a.d.
Corroborating that conclusion is the fact that the eruption of Vesuvius, which occurred in
79 a.d., is probably the basis for Rev. 8 (see Pagels, Revelations, pp. 20-21); and the fact that
Irenaeus, in Against Heresies 5.30.3, says that Revelation was written in the reign of
Domitian.
283
any reference to it for over three hundred years? By any reasonable estimate,
quite low. Not even prolific and erudite professors of Latin like Tertullian or
Lactantius? Lower still. That for nearly three centuries no Christian martyr tradition would develop from either the event or Tacitus account of it? Lower
still. That no known legends, martyrologies, or tales would adapt or employ it
as a motif in any way, not even in the various stories and legends of the persecutions and martyrdoms under Nero that we know did develop and circulate?
Lower still. And on top of all that is the additional unlikelihood that all other
pagan critics of Christianity (like Suetonius and Pliny the Younger, but even
such critics as Celsus) would also somehow not have heard of the event or
never make any mention of it.
Lowering the probability further is the way Tacitus describes the event.
Tacitus treats the persecuted group as unusually large, and no longer existing,
and at the time widely and inexplicably regarded as composed of the most vile
criminals, who could credibly have committed arsonthree features that do
not fit Christians that well, but would have fit followers of the instigator
Chrestus. It is certainly less likely that Tacitus would say these three things
about the Christians in Rome in the year 64 than that he would say them of the
Chrestians.
For all these reasons in combination I believe we should conclude the suspect line was probably not written by Tacitus, and was most likely interpolated
into its present position sometime after the middle of the 4th century a.d.
More likely Tacitus was originally speaking of the Chrestians, a violent group of
Jews first suppressed under Claudius, and not the Christians, and accordingly
did not mention Christ. We should so conclude because alternative explanations of the evidence require embracing a long series of increasingly improbable assumptions. So the line should be rejected as spurious, or at least held in
reasonable suspicion. And this conclusion should now be taken into account
when assessing the evidence for Christ and Christianity, and also when translating and interpreting Tacitus and the events following the burning of Rome
under Nero. The whole passage in Annals 15.44 should instead be considered as
possible evidence supplementing Suetonius on the matter of Chrestus the
instigator and Jewish unrest at Rome.
Vigiliae
Christianae
brill.com/vc
Onomastic Statistics and the Christianization

of Egypt: A Response to Depauw and Clarysse
David Frankfurter
Dept. of Religion
Boston University
145 Bay State Rd.
Boston MA 02215 USA
dtmf@bu.edu
Abstract
In showing a more gradual spread of Christianity over the fourth century, Depauw and
Clarysses revised statistical approach has some merits over Bagnalls earlier conclusions from onomastic evidence. However, given the complex, even ambiguous
Christianity evident in late antique Egyptian sources, all attempts to track conversion
on the basis of naming beg the questions: (a) what constitutes being Christian and
(b) what do new naming practices actually represent in the overall assimilation of
Christian traditions.
Keywords
Christianization Egypt naming conversion religious ambiguity
Mark Depauw and Willy Clarysse have produced a valuable endorsement and
revision of Roger Bagnalls analysis of Christian conversion in Egypt.1 From
the names in documents securely dated to various points between the third
and fifth centuries, Bagnall extrapolated how many parents would have chosen to give their children Christian namesthose of martyrs, biblical figures,
1 M. Depauw and W. Clarysse, How Christian was Fourth Century Egypt? Onomastic
Perspectives on Conversion, VC 67 (2013): 407-35; Roger Bagnall, Religious Conversion and
Onomastic Change, BASP 19 (1982): 105-24; and idem, Conversion and Onomastics: A Reply,
ZPE 69 (1987): 243-50.
A Response to Depauw and Clarysse
285
or Christian emperors. Then, presuming such choice in naming indicated the

parents conversion from paganism to Christianity, Bagnall proposed from
the documents at hand the percentage of the population of Egypt that, at each
point, was Christian. Depauw and Clarysse have now validated the method
but adjusted the documentation and the selection of names that might count
as Christian. In so doing they confirmed Bagnalls conclusion that the fourth
century saw a rise in the number of Christiansfor Bagnall, exponential; for
Depauw and Clarysse, gradualfrom about 20% of the Egyptian population
before Constantine to about 70% by the end of the fourth century, steadily
increasing through the fifth century.
The statistical approach, especially with the more gradual results of
Depauw and Clarysse, tends to confirm what historians would have presumed
about the religious character of Egypt under a Christian empire, in a landscape
increasingly peppered with monasteries and churches. It has the additional
merits that papyri have always provided: the names people bear on documents
give a kind of reality to the abstract concept of conversion. One might counter, as did Ewa Wipszycka to Bagnalls original publications, that papyri cannot possibly represent more than the places from which they came, and that
Christianization in Egypt (as elsewhere in the world) was a regionally haphazard process, especially beyond the cities.2 But population statistics are meant
to be broadly informative and generally obtuse to local nuances.
The problem for many social and religious historians with this approach
ever since Bagnall first presented it in 1982, is the actual significance of the
results for the rate of Christianizationif such a thing can be reduced to a
rate.3 Most particularly, do statistics relating to the amount of parents choosing Christian names indicate Christian conversion or do they simply indicate that parents were choosing Christian names for their children? Do the
results imply that every parent naming a child after a Christian figure cleaved
to an exclusive and coherent religious ideology? How could the results apply
2 Ewa Wipszycka, La valeur de lonomastique pour lhistoire de la christianisation de lgypte:
A propos dune tude de R. S. Bagnall, ZPE 62 (1986): 173-81, and more importantly, La christianisation de lgypte aux IV-VI sicles. Aspects sociaux et ethniques, Aegyptus 68 (1988):
117-65.
3 See considerations of Bagnalls evidence by Alan K. Bowman, Egypt After the Pharaohs
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986), 192; Robin Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians
(New York: Knopf, 1987), 590; Pierre Chuvin, A Chronicle of the Last Pagans, tr. B. A. Archer
(Cambridge: Harvard, 1990), 16-17 (only for certain parts of Egypt); and now Jean-Michel
Carri, Le nombre des chrtiens en gypte selon les donnes papyrologiques, Le problme
de la christianisation du monde antique, edd. Herv Inglebert, Sylvain Destephen, and Bruno
Dumzil (Paris: Picard, 2010), 147-57, esp. 149-51.
286
Frankfurter
to the kind of religious ambiguity characteristic of Egypt and other premodern

cultures in religious transformation? True, sociologists often look for the least
common denominator to indicate subjects membership in a particular association; and in many ways Bagnall, Depauw, and Clarysse have indeed chosen a
deliberate actnaming ones childrenthat would plausibly have some bearing on their religious identity.
But religious identity, or being a Christian, in Roman and late Roman Egypt
is a notoriously slippery issue that cannot be simplified according to a modern,
rather Protestant notion of conversion and group membership (cf. p. 409).
The model of embracing Christianity that underlies these articles is intellectual and psychological, presuming deliberate choices on the part of individuals
(and perhaps their households) to embrace an ideologically clear and absolute
Christianitythat is, one different from a so-called paganism, to undergo
(allegedly) an individual baptism, and thereafter to disconnect fundamentally
from pagan ways and to participate exclusively in a public ritual life that the
modern scholar would properly recognize as Christian.
A great number of witnesses to late antique Egyptian Christianityfrom
sermons to archaeological remainssuggest that those participating to some
extent in Christianity in fourth, fifth, and sixth-century Egypt would not have
conformed to this model at all, even if they might have given their children
names associated with biblical figures or martyrs. They sought guidance from
archaeic Egyptian forms of divination, enjoyed Nile festival processions, left
terracotta figurines in tombs, and wore all sorts of amulets. They slept in
shrines for dreams of saints, blessed their children with holy oil from martyr
churches, and gouged sand from Egyptian statues for its healing powers.4 They
did not disassociate themselves from the folk who stayed aloof from Christian
practicesthe so-called pagansuntil, of course, the hardening of religious
differences that took place over the fifth century.5 Of course, these eclectic
4 See David Frankfurter, Voices, Books, and Dreams: The Diversification of Divination Media
in Late Antique Egypt, Mantik: Studies in Ancient Divination, RGRW 155, edd. Sarah Iles
Johnston and Peter Struck (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 233-54; and Beyond Magic and Superstition,
The Peoples History of Christianity, 2: Late Ancient Christianity, ed. Virginia Burrus
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005), pp. 255-83. Christian Nile cult: Danielle Bonneau, La crue du
Nil, divinit gyptienne, travers mille ans dhistoire, tudes et commentaires 52 (Paris:
Klincksieck, 1964), 421-39. Figurines: Lszl Trk, Coptic Antiquities I, Bibliotheca Archaeo
logica 11 (Rome: Bretschneider, 1993), 30-48.
5 On evidence for the hardening of religious differences during the fifth century see David
Frankfurter, Things Unbefitting Christians: Violence and Christianization in Fifth-Century
Panopolis, JECS 8,2 (2000): 273-95, and Stephen Emmel, Shenoute of Atripe and the
Christian Destruction of Temples in Egypt: Rhetoric and Reality, From Temple To Church:
287
practices of Egyptian Christians, built as they were into the ritual habitus
of Egyptian culture, resemble the local and regional practices of Christians
throughout the late antique and medieval (and even colonial Latin American)
worlds.6 They do not make their subjects any less Christianassuming the
label applies to anyone who would claim the label and/or name their kids after
martyrs. They were not demi-chrtiens, as one 1923 essay labelled them, but
Christians in the broadest sense.7 But the evidence for such a rich and locallytextured religious life does make conversion, as a psychological or social
shift from a putative paganism to Christianity, a particularly vague model.
What exactly would it mean that Egypt was 90% (Bagnall) or 70% (Depauw/
Clarysse) Christian by the end of the fourth century?
Part of the problem that Bagnall originally set for himself was the rate of
peoples separation from paganism, but this too is a misleading category. As
Bagnall himself later demonstrated, the temple cults were in economic freefall by the beginning of the fourth century.8 The decline of the temple infrastructure over the third and fourth centuries meant, however, not a religious
vacuum (as Bagnall proposed) but the decentralization of popular, local religions, their shrines and public practices, and eventually their domesticization
as ritual traditions. The remaining elements of Egyptian religion, that is, consisted less in isolated enclaves of dedicated worshippers of Isis-Thermouthis
than dispositions, geography, folksongs, agricultural traditions, and local
ceremonieswhat the anthropologist Robert Redfield called the Little
Tradition, naturally assimilable to Christian institutional demands as the
century wore on.9 Many such traditions, indeed, gained new life in Christian
7
8
Destruction and Renewal of Local Cultic Topography in Late Antiquity, RGRW 163, ed. Johannes
Hahn, Stephen Emmel, and Ulrich Gotter (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 161-202.
See, e.g., Aline Rousselle, Croire et gurir: La foi en Gaule dans lAntiquit tardive (Paris: Fayard,
1990); Valerie I. J. Flint, The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1991); Ramsay MacMullen, Christianity and Pagamism in the Fourth to Eighth
Centuries (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997); and Eberhard Sauer, Religious Rituals at
Springs in the Late Antique and Early Medieval World, and Peter Talloen, From Pagan to
Christian: Religious Iconography in Material Culture from Sagalassos, The Archaeology of
Late Antique Paganism, Late Antique Archaeology 7, ed. Luke Lavan and Michael Mulryan
(Leiden: Brill, 2011), 505-550, 575-607.
C. Guignebert, Les demi-chrtiens et leur place dans lglise antique, RHR 88 (1923): 65-102.
Roger Bagnall, Combat ou vide: christianisme et paganisme dans lgypte romaine tardive,
Ktema 13 (1988): 285-96; and idem, Egypt in Late Antiquity (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1993), 261-75.
This was the central argument of my Religion in Roman Egypt: Assimilation and Resistance
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), esp. chs. 3-4.
288
Frankfurter
contexts and thus could hardly count as a paganism, in the sense of an alternative religious order to Christianity.
So while choosing Paulos over Sarapammon for ones son does indicate
some kind of historical shift, it is a shift in cultural options and domestic strategies, not of religious identity in some modern sense.10 Indeed, naming your
child after a saint or a prophet could reflect a dream your wife had at a local
shrine, the instructions of a holy man, or the results of guided lot-throwing on
a festival day.11 It could indicate the parents hope for magical protection or
simply a name that sounded up-to-date and modern, like those names today
that parents everywhere pluck from western television to give their infants
(or that are used in Central Africa for noms de guerre).12 Depauw and Clarysse
admit (430) that a Christian name would not necessarily imply prior baptism,
but by the same token Christian names do not ipso facto signify religious identity or conversion. They may be treasured, borne as blessings, but most likely
as a reflection of the shrine the mother chooses for a pregnancy appeal or the
predilections of a holy man.13
Depauw and Clarysses confirmation and rectification of Bagnalls initial
approach to onomastic change and Christianization complements our general
sense of the pace of Christianization as a variegated cultural process. Their
work does not, however, demonstrate the spread of Christianity against a socalled paganismas monolithic, coherent, and complementary ideological
entities. But the spread of Christian naming practices does show something,
and it is now up to historians of the religions of late antiquity to delve into
what indeed might be taking place. What aspect of Christianity is embraced
10
11
12
13
ric Rebillard, Christians and Their Many Identities in Late Antiquity: North Africa,
200-450 ce (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2012).
See also Arietta Papaconstantinou, Le culte des saints en gypte des Byzantins aux
Abbassides. Lapport des sources papyrologiques et pigraphiques grecques et coptes (Paris:
CNRS, 2001), 364-67; and Stephen J. Davis, The Cult of St. Thecla: A Tradition of Womens
Piety in Late Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford university Press, 2001), 201-8. On names following
local gods oracular pronouncements or, conceivably, appearances in dreams following a
festival, see Jan Quaegebeur, Tithoes, dieu oraculaire? Enchoria 7 (1977): 103-8.
See, e.g., Peter van Minnen, A Change of Names in Roman Egypt after A.D. 202? A Note on
P. Amst. I 72, ZPE 62 (1986): 87-92.
Depauw and Clarysse cite mentions of naming by Eusebius and John Chrysostom
(pp. 425-26), but these passages are too geographically and historically isolated to pertain
to a generalization about naming and Christianization as a cultural process. The Eusebius
story (from Martyrs of Palestine [Syr.] 11.8) is poor testimony for actual re-naming practices (and is counterbalanced by other martyr texts, like that of Perpetua and Felicitas, in
which no re-naming takes place).
289
in this practice? What sense of identity or family tradition? What changing

views of infants? What types of relationship with saints shrines, holy men,
divination practices, or Christian holy days? What cross-cultural parallels are
comparable and illuminating?14 And what, finally, did it mean for a Christian
family to name their son Besa or Horapollo?15
14
15
See, e.g., Bagnall, Religious Conversion, 108, drawing on R. W. Bulliet, Conversion to Islam
in the Medieval Period (Cambridge 1979), 16-25.
Bagnall, Religious Conversion, 109; Carri, Christianisation du monde antique, 150, and
Depauw/Clarysse, How Christian was Fourth-Century Egypt? 426-28, offer speculations
on this topic, as well as G. H. R. Horsley, Name Change as an Indication of Religious
Conversion in Antiquity, Numen 34 (1987): 10-11.
Vigiliae
Christianae
brill.com/vc
The Origin of the Post-Nativity Commemorations

Hugo Mendez
University of Georgia
218 Sedgefield Overlook, Dallas, GA, 30157
mendez.hugo@outlook.com
Abstract
On a number of fourth and fifth century calendars, a block of feasts commemorating
Stephen, James, John, Peter, and Paul immediately follows 25 December. Contemporary
studies have lost sight of the rationale for its position. This paper defends a proposal of
Hans Lietzmann and suggests that the community that created the block recognized
Christmas as the starting point of the sanctoral cycle. This community elected to place
the memorials of Christianitys earliest confessors at the head of this annual order, symbolizing their historical priority over other martyrs. Stephen occupied the first of these
dates precisely so his commemoration could precede that of every other confessor on
the calendar, a position that illustrates the intensity of his cult in the late fourth-fifth
centuries. The study proceeds to develop this insight into a framework capable of
explaining similar commemorations on other early Christian calendars.
Keywords
martyr cult Christmas Saint Stephen protomartyr martyrology Christian year
calendar
1 Introduction
The well-known Syriac Martyrology1 of Edessa (c. 411 ce) reproduces a lost
Greek calendar from Nicomedia, dated to c. 360 ce.2 The martyrology begins in
December and runs to November, its first entry falling on 26 December and the
1 Also known as the Breviarium Syriacum; Syriac original published in: W. Wright, An Ancient
Syrian Martyrology, The Journal of Sacred Literature and Biblical Record 8 (1865) 45-56.
English translation: W. Wright, An Ancient Syrian Martyrology, The Journal of Sacred
Literature and Biblical Record 8 (1866) 423-432. Discussion in: Mariani, Bonaventura,
koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 4|doi . / - 49
The Origin Of The Post-nativity Commemorations
291
last on 24 November. Only one great feast appears in the document: the day of
the Manifestation of our Lord Jesus, that is, the Epiphany, on its traditional 6
January date. A Commemoration of all the Confessors also appears on the
calendar for the Friday after Easter (between the 6 and 7 April entries).
Otherwise, all the entries on the calendar commemorate individual confessors and victors, and their days on which they gained crowns, with each entry
listing the name(s) of individual martyrs, the cities in which they died, and the
anniversaries of their deaths.
Most of the commemorations included on the calendar are extracted
from the local martyrological traditions of a number of churches, especially
Nicomedia, Alexandria, and Antioch.3 However, three entries commemorate
figures from the New Testament. These three entries are grouped together at
the very beginning of the calendar, occupying the 26-28 December dates:
The former Knn [December]
26. According to the reckoning of the Greeks. The first confessor, at
Jerusalem, Stephen the Apostle, the chief of the confessors.4
27. John and Jacob [James], the Apostles, at Jerusalem.
28. In the city of Rome, Paul the Apostle, and Simon Cephas [Peter], the
chief of the Apostles of our Lord.
Why do the names of New Testament figures appear only at the beginning of
the calendar? Why are they grouped together? The position of these entries
appears to be marked.5
Breviarium Syriacum seu Martyrologium Syriacum Saec IV iuxta Cod. SM. Rerum
Ecclesiasticarum Documenta (Rome: Herder. 1956) 3-25.
This is clear from the presence of martyrs of Nicomedia otherwise not universally venerated (Henry Chadwick, The Calendar: Sanctification of Time, Studies on Ancient Christianity
[Burlington, VT: Ashgate. 2006.] 106).
C. Erbes, Das syrische Martyrologium und der Weihnachtsfestkreis I in Zeitschrift fr
Kirchengeschichte 25 (1904) 330. A full listing of the local churches cited in the Syriac
Martyrology appears in: Mariani 1956, 6-9.
Here, I have edited W. Wrights translation, which omits a comma after the first confessor,
to conform to Marianis translation: confessor primus, Hierosolymis, Stephanus, Apostolous,
caput confessorum (Mariani 1956, 27).
It is also unusual that these first entries of the calendar fall so late in the month of December.
The first entry of all other months falls between the 1st-15th days of that month, with an average near the 3rd of the month. This question may be associated with the issue of Christmas
and the Syriac Martyrology (see sources cited in note 23).
292
Mendez
The unique character of these three entries, and their grouping at the head
of the calendar, suggest they form a distinct and integral block of festivals. This
suspicion is confirmed in their joint appearance on a number of other early
calendars (extant or reconstructed), in a more or less intact sequence, despite
changed surroundings. From the homilies of Gregory of Nyssa and Asterius of
Amasea, one can easily reconstruct a variant form of the same block for the
churches of fourth century Cappadocia:6
Nyssa and Amasea (c. 380)
Dec. 26 Stephen

27 Peter, James, John
28 Paul
The fifth-century lectionary of the church of Jerusalem provides yet another
variant:
Armenian Lectionary of Jerusalem (c. 420)7
Dec. 27 Stephen8

28 Paul and Peter
29 James9 and John
6 Jill Burnett Commings, Aspects Of The Liturgical Year In Cappadocia (325-430) (New York:
Peter Lang. 2005) 99-100.
7 27 December. Of Saint Stephen....28 December. Commemoration of Paul and of Peter,
Apostles....29 December. Of the Apostle James and of John the Evangelist.... (Athanase
Renoux, Le codex armenien Jerusalem 121, PO 36,2:168 [Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols. 1971]).
The same tradition also situates a feast for James, the brother of the Lord, and David on 25
December. For an introduction to this feast, see: Stphane Verhelst, Liturgy of Jerusalem in
the Byzantine Period, Christians and Christianity in the Holy Land, ed. Ora Limor and Guy G.
Stroumsa (Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols. 2006) 455. I plan to explore the interaction of this
feast with the block in an upcoming study.
8 A variant reading found in manuscript E of the Armenian Lectionary transfers the commemoration of Stephen to 26 December.
9 Although a commemoration of the apostle James appears on 29 December, distinct from
the commemoration of James [the brother of the Lord] on 25 December, the epistle reading
assigned for the 29 December feast is taken from James 1:1-12. Clearly, at some point in the
development of this lection, there has been a confusion of James, the son of Zebedee and
James, the brother of the Lord.
293
All three variants are relatively consistent with one another, with only minor
differences. Whereas the Syriac Martyrology unites the celebration of Peter to
that of Paul (28 December), the Nyssan and Amasean arrangements unite
Peter with James and John, creating a single feast in honor of the inner three
disciples of Jesus (27 December). The three feasts of the Jerusalem Lectionary
are identical to those of the Syriac Martyrology, except that they begin a day
later (27 December, rather than 26 December), and the second and third feasts
have switched positions. It is easiest to see secondary developments in the
block as presented in the Armenian Lectionary of Jerusalem, beginning with
the position of the feast of Stephen on 27 December. Given the plurality of
early sources agreeing with the 26 December date (including: Gregory of Nyssa,
the Syriac Martyrology, the Calendar of Carthage, and the Hieronymian
Martyrology), the discrepant Jerusalem date must reflect a later shift.10
Evidently, the feast of Peter and Paul resisted this shift, steadfastly clinging to
its traditional 28 December date. To compensate, the Jerusalem church moved
the observance of James and John back another day (to December 29), reordering the final two elements of the sequence. The secondary positions of all these
feasts make it unlikely that the sequence attested in the Jerusalem Lectionary
is original.11 Instead, the original order of the feasts is preserved in the sequence
attested by either the Nyssan and Amasean churches or the Nicomedian
church. The following is a composite of these sequences, and a preliminary
reconstruction of the original position and sequence of these feasts:
Preliminary Reconstruction
Dec. 26

27

28
10
11
Stephen
(Peter) James, and John
(Peter) and Paul
The feast of Stephen also falls on 27 December on the Byzantine calendar, where 26
December represents the Synaxis of the Theotokos, a feast inspired by the Nativity celebration and in place by the eighth century (Franois Bovon, The Dossier on Stephen, the
First Martyr, Harvard Theological Review 96 [2003] 286; Margot Fassler, The First Marian
Feast in Constantinople and Jerusalem: Chant Texts, Readings, and Homiletic Literature,
The Study of Medieval Chant: Paths and Bridges, East and West, ed. Kenneth N. Levy and
Peter Jeffery [Rochester, NY: Boydell & Brewer. 2001] 25-88).
Consider the opposite scenario. The Nicomedian calendar would have to metathesize the
commemorations of James and John and of Peter and Paul without a clear motivation.
294
2
Mendez
Survey of the Literature
The unity and wide provenance of these feasts has earned them a fair amount
of attention in the literature. Almost a century ago, Duchesne correctly recognized that there was no historical support for the late December position of
these feasts. No record identifying the dates of the deaths of Stephen et al.
survived apostolic times. Furthermore, it was not until 415 ce that the relics of
Stephen were discovered,12 decades after our earliest attestation of the
26 December feast. Consequently, the lead date of the block does not memorialize the discovery and transfer of his relics, nor the dedication of a church
under his patronage. Ultimately, Duschesne was forced to conclude that the
feasts were fixed arbitrarily, but never explained why they came to occupy
these positions in particular.13
In his classic work Comparative Liturgy, Anton Baumstark agreed that the
feasts were fixed arbitrarily to memorialize New Testament figures for whom
no historical anniversaries existed. There, he describes the series as a subtype of the concomitant feasts that brings together, immediately after a
great Feast in the Liturgical Year, a whole group of commemorations of New
Testament figures. Where parallel clusters in the East and West Syriac traditions immediately follow Easter, the 26-28 December block appears after
Christmas.14 Unfortunately, Baumstarks model was little more than descriptive, never identifying the cause for associating these feasts with Christmas
rather than another feast.
An attempt to isolate that cause would come decades later in Richard M.
Nardones discussion of the sanctoral cycle:
Before the end of the fourth century...it then became possible to honor
the great saints of the New Testament, even though their anniversaries,
and even their tombs, were unknown. The days following Easter would
have been suitable for their memorials, and in fact Easter Week was used
for that purpose in the church of Mesopotamia. But the Greek and Roman
churches preferred to keep all the feasts of the saints on fixed days of the
civil calendar. Since Easter was a movable feast, the alternative choice
was the octave of Christmas.
Stephen the First Martyr naturally came first, on December 26,
although the Eastern churches later gave that honor to the Virgin Mary.
12
13
14
So the account of the Epist. Luciani (PL 41,807-17).

Louis Duchesne, Christian Worship: Its Origin and Evolution (New York: Macmillan. 1919)
267.
Anton Baumstark, Comparative Liturgy, ed. Bernard Botte, tr. F. L. Cross (Westminster,
MD: Newman. 1958) 184-185.
295
The choice of Stephen shows that sainthood was still associated with
martyrdom. The next two days were originally assigned to the chief apostles: Peter and Paul, and John and James.15
Although Nardone correctly notes why Easter would be an impractical day to
anchor these feasts, he too quickly identifies Christmas as the alternative
choice for these celebrations.16 Why not select the Epiphany, a date already
associated with the inauguration of Jesus ministry?17 As late as 1995, Michael
Kunzler could accurately say, the reason for celebrating [Stephens] feast on
26th December remains unexplained.18
In fact, by treating Easter and Christmas on equal terms as open alternatives for these memorials, Nardone and Baumstark missed the true genius of
the fourth century calendars that pioneered the late December block of feasts.
A reconstructed start date on 26 December does not merely set this block of
commemorations beside Christmas, but beside a unique liturgical fault line:
the beginning of the church calendar in such fourth century cities as Rome19
and Nyssa, coinciding by design with the Nativity celebration. A century ago,
Hans Lietzmann explained the position of these feasts on precisely this basis.20
Unfortunately, his analysis has been widely overlooked in contemporary liturgical scholarship. With due deference to Lietzmanns work, I would like to provide a new defense of his fundamental insight, deviating in certain points from
his own conclusions. My goal, however, is not so much to explore these feasts
for their own sake, as to adapt my explanation of them into a new framework
capable of addressing related problems in early Christian liturgy.
15
16
17
18
19
20
Richard Morton Nardone, The Church of Jerusalem and the Christian Calendar, Standing
before God: Studies on Prayer in Scriptures and in Tradition with Essays in honor of John M.
Oesterreicher, ed. Asher Finkel and Lawrence Frizzell (New York: Ktav House. 1981) 242.
Worse, Nardone appears to anachronistically import the contemporary Western conception of Christmas and Easter as the two anchors of the church calendar.
That is, associated with his baptism (Thomas J. Talley, The Origins of the Liturgical Year
[Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press. 1991] 125). In John, the call of the first disciples immediately follows the account of Jesus baptism (1:29-51).
Michael Kunzler, The Churchs Liturgy, tr. Placed Murray, Henry OShea, and Cilian S
(New York: Continuum. 2001) 418.
Talley 1991, 80, 85. The first entry of the Depositio Martirum (Chronography of 354) reads,
VIII kal. Ian. [25 December] natus Christus in Betleem Iudeae (Chronica Minora, vol. 1,
Momumenta Germaniae Historica, ed. T. Mommsen [Berolini. 1892] 71).
Hans Lietzmann, Petrus und Paulus in Rom: liturgische und archologische Studien (Bonn:
Marcus und Weber, 1915), 95-96.
296
3
Mendez
Position of the Feasts
Already in 380 ce, Gregory of Nyssa interprets the meaning of this block precisely by virtue of its position at the head of the Cappadocian liturgical year:
In a wonderful manner God has established an order [taxis] and sequence
[akolouthia] by the feasts we commemorate each year. Our order of spiritual feasts...consists in having a knowledge of heavenly reality. [Paul]
says that at the beginning the Apostles enjoyed an order which formed
prophets together with shepherds and teachers. The order of yearly celebrations concurs with this apostolic sequence. However, the first [celebration] does not concur with the others because the Only-Begotten
Sons theophany through his birth from a virgin is instituted in the world
not simply as a holy feast but as the holy of holies and feast of feasts.
Therefore let us number those who follow this order which for us begins
with the assembly of apostles and prophets. Indeed people like Stephen,
Peter, James, John and Paul possess the apostolic and prophetic spirit
after whom comes the pastor and teacher [Basil] who belongs to their
order which marks our present celebration.21
For Gregory, the church year begins with the 25 December celebration of
Christs birth. It then proceeds immediately into a commemoration of the
assembly of the apostles and prophets on the next day22 (the feasts of
Stephen, Peter, James, John, and Paul), and then to a commemoration of pastors and teachers, which class embraces all post-apostolic figures. In this
21
22
Gregory of Nyssa, Orat. funeb. 1 (PG 46,787ff.), tr. Richard (Casimir) McCambly and David
Salomon.
So Gregory of Nyssas homily for 26 December: Yesterday the Lord of the universe welcomed us whereas today it is the imitator of the Lord [Stephen]. How are they related to
each other? One assumed human nature on our behalf while the other shed it for his
Lord....One was wrapped in swaddling clothes for us, and the other was stoned for him.
(Greg.Nyss., In Sanct. Steph. Protomartyris. 1 [PG 46,701ff.], tr. Richard [Casimir] McCambly
and David Salamon). The feast of Stephen also followed Christmas in the fourth-century
church of Asamea: How truly holy and beautiful is the cycle of events delightful to us.
Feast follows upon feast, the one celebration comes after the other. We are invited from
prayer to prayer: the birth of the Lord is followed immediately by the honour given to His
servant...the first of the martyrs, the teacher of suffering for Christ, the foundation of
the good confession. (Asterius of Amasea, A Homily on Stephen the First Martyr, 1-2
[PG 40,337ff.], tr. B. Dehandschutter in: Let us Die that We May Live, ed. Pauline Allen,
Boudewijn Dehandschutter, Johan Leemans, and Wendy Mayer [New York; Routledge.
2003] 177-78).
297
e arliest attestation of the feasts of Stephen et al., their position at the head of
the church calendar is charged with significance, embodying the preeminence
of the apostles and prophets over other orders within the heavenly realities of the church.
In many respects, this interpretation of the church year parallels the apparent design of the Syriac Martyrology. As noted earlier, the feasts of Stephen,
James and John, and Peter and Paul occupy the first three dates on that calendar (26-28 December). Unlike the Roman and Nyssan sources, the Syriac
Martyrology lacks any reference to a 25 December feast. Evidently, Christmas
was not observed in Nicomedia c. 360 ce; instead, the church liturgically
commemorated the birth of Christ on the day of the Manifestation of our
Lord Jesus [the Epiphany] [6 January], as was the practice of the church of
Jerusalem into the sixth century.23 Nevertheless, the Syriac Martyrology still
begins in December, with the feast of Stephen as its first entry of record. That
our two earliest attestations of the feast of Stephen associate it with the beginning of the liturgical year is telling.24
The Syriac Martyrology gives us the added advantage of inspecting the liturgical year as a whole. One can divide that calendar into two parts, the first segment embracing feasts for apostolic figures (first three entries) and the rest
commemorating post-apostolic figures (elsewhere).25 The organizing principle here is not the spiritual hierarchy of the church (Gregorys heavenly realities) but historical antecedence. The deaths of Stephen, James, John, Peter,
23
24
25
Susan K. Roll, Toward the Origins of Christmas (Kampen, the Netherlands: Kok Pharos.
1995) 86. A discussion of Christmas the Syriac Martyrology appears in Erbes 1904; Erbes
1905. These studies are criticized for arguments fort subtils et peu convaincants in
B. Botte, Les origines de la Nol et de lpiphanie: tude historique (Louvain: Abbaye du
Mont Csar, 1932), 27. On the practice of the Jerusalem church see: Roll 1995, 199-200;
Talley 1991, 125; John F. Baldovin, The Liturgy in Ancient Jerusalem (Nottingham: Grove.
1989) 35-37.
The Armenian Lectionary of Jerusalem is the only one of the three sources cited above
that does not situate this block of feasts at the beginning of the liturgical year. On that
calendar, the liturgical year begins in January, its first entry corresponding to the vigil of
the feast of the Epiphany (5 January). Of course, the absence of Christmas in the
Lectionary betrays the fact that the block of feasts could not have originated in
the Jerusalem church, and is a borrowing (so Nardone 1981, 242-43, who criticizes Dixs
claim to the contrary: Dom Gregory Dix, The Spirit of the Liturgy [Westminster: Dacre.
1945] 478).
There is some ironic truth in the medieval characterization of the 26-28 December feasts
of Stephen et al. as celebrations of the comites Christi (the companions of Christ, i.e.,
sharers in his sufferings). On the Syriac Martyrology, they are companions of Christ precisely as the only contemporaries of Jesus commemorated on the calendar.
298
Mendez
and Paul (26-28 December) all date to the period of the New Testament, while
the deaths of all others commemorated on the martyrology cluster around the
century preceding the year 360 ce, with a few early exceptions.26 Even still,
this scheme is essentially consonant with Gregorys taxis. After all, only figures from the New Testament are apostles and prophets in later Christian
tradition. A late (i.e., post-apostolic!) figure like Basil can only be a pastor or
teacher. Even for Gregory, then, the distinction between Peter and Basil can be
considered one of time. In liturgical time, as in historical time, earlier saints
precede later ones.
Thus, although the positions of these feasts are artificial, they are not,
strictly speaking, arbitrary. There is nothing arbitrary about a position at the
beginning of a liturgical calendar. It is a marked position, here attracting
a marked category of feasts: the memorials of the earliest Christians. Even
today, the beginning points of liturgical calendars are unique and thematically charged boundaries that signal or license the values of origination and
antecedence.27 In the fourth century, a desire to exploit these values led at
least one early Christian community to organize a series of apostolic memorials around the 25 December axis.
It would not be surprising to learn that other clusters fitting Baumstarks
description follow a given feast (e.g., Easter, Epiphany, Christmas) because
that feast once stood at the beginning of the liturgical year. Surprisingly, one
of our three sources already gives us a parallel example for this phenomenon.
On the Jerusalem Lectionary, the Epiphany inaugurates the liturgical year.
Immediately following it, on the second day of its octave, is a second, r edundant
26
27
These are marked with the recurring formula, of the number of the ancient confessors,
a characteristic that also distinguishes them from the New Testament entries. A particularly early example of this type is Ignatius of Antioch (d. 105 ce; 17 October).
On the Byzantine calendar, for instance, these values thematically unite the Byzantine
Induction or New Year (1 September) and the feast Nativity of the Theotokos
(8 September), heightening the latters value of origination: Today, O people, is the first
fruit of our salvation. For behold, she who was chosen from all generations as Mother and
Virgin and habitation of God, comes forth in birth from a barren woman. (Sticheron at
the Litija, 8 September). In Western Christianity, the liturgical year begins on the first
Sunday of Advent, which is already associated to the beginning of salvation history by
its anticipation of the incarnation of Christ. Of course, the association of the feast of the
Nativity and the beginning of the liturgical year in the fourth century churches of Rome
and Nyssa depended on the same theme. (Compare the eschatological overtones of the
modern feast of Christ the King, which inverts these values from its position at the end of
the liturgical year, immediately preceding the boundary.)
299
celebration of Stephen (7 January).28 Now, duplicate commemorations indicate that the calendar implied in the lectionary was already a conflation of at
least two earlier sources.29 Evidently, the church of Jerusalem absorbed the
26 December feast of Stephen from a community that celebrated Christmas as
the beginning of the liturgical year, but celebrated a second, native celebration
of the martyr, positioned at the beginning of its own liturgical year. (The institution of 7 January feast can be dated to a point after c. 415 ce, the discovery
of Stephens relics.)30 Thus, on 7 January we see a commemoration of Stephen
behind a live fault line of the calendar (6 January), and 27 December beside
a point unmarked on the surface, but relevant from a diachronic perspective
(25 December). Intriguingly, the position of both feasts can be explained by
their proximity to the beginning of a liturgical calendar, though this has been
obscured in the latter case. The 27 December feast stands as a relic, associated
with no obvious axis on the calendar. This is also its situation on contemporary
Christian calendars.
Admittedly, it is more difficult to see a similar arrangement in the 6th century
East Syriac lectionary Baumstark cites.31 That calendar begins on the Epiphany
but positions a cluster of New Testament commemorations behind Easter. It is
28
29
30
31
The stational liturgy of this, the second day of Epiphany, was held at the Martyrium of
St. Stephen, and utilized the same readings read on the 27 December feast of Stephen
(Psalms 5, 20; Acts 6:8-8:2; and the martyrological gospel, Jn. 12:24-26). Compare clearer
references to a post-Epiphany commemoration of Stephen in the later East Syriac
Lectionaries of the Church of the Forty Martyrs and of the Monastery of Azzel in Tur
Abdin. Note, however: the 7 January commemoration of John the Baptist on some of
these calendars has a distinct origin from the feast of Stephen, having been created as a
concomitant celebration to the commemoration of the Baptism of Christ on the
Epiphany.
Fredrick Cornwallis Conybeare and A. J. Maclean, Rituale Armenorum (Whitefish, MT:
Kessinger. 2005) 512.
Egeria, writing c. 381, describes a gathering at the Martyrium on the second day of the
Epiphany octave, almost thirty years before the construction of the Martyrium of Stephen.
Evidently, the enshrining of the bones of the citys most famous martyr was evidently
important enough to induce a change in the stational pattern; the commemorations
were relocated to the new Martyrium for Stephen (John F. Baldovin, The Urban Character
of Christian Worship: The Origins, Development, and Meaning of Stational Liturgy, OCA 228
[Rome: Pontifical Oriental Institute. 1987] 94, 282-283; also Baldovin 1989, 36-37). With
that change came a new set of readings drawn from the 27 December feast, creating a
second commemoration of Stephen (Talley 1991, 132).
This is the Mesopotamian calendar also cited by Nardone 1981, 242. It is reproduced in:
F. C. Burkitt, The Early Syriac Lectionary System, The Proceedings of the British Academy
10 (1921-23) 306ff.
300
Mendez
conceivable that Easter once stood at the head of the Mesopotamian l iturgical
year. After all, the African churches inaugurated the sanctoral cycle around
Easter.32 The juxtaposition of both movable and immovable martyr commemorations on the East Syriac lectionary may reflect an earlier shift from a lunar
arrangement, anchored on Easter, to a solar arrangement, inaugurated on the
feast of the Epiphany. But even if we cannot confirm that Easter once stood at
the head of the Mesopotamian liturgical year, we can safely say that the block
was attracted to Easter as an axial element on the East Syriac calendar.33 If
that axis has not licensed the value of antecedence to these feasts, it has certainly imparted the notion of highest honor. Once again, we are again dealing
with no mere feast, but one sitting on a unique liturgical fault line with definite
thematic values to license. For this reason, Baumstarks categorization of this
type of feasts deserves reevaluation. Rather than say that these feasts characteristically follow immediately after a great Feast in the Liturgical Year, we
should say that they were positioned at key axes or boundaries on the calendar
precisely from an attraction to the particular values licensed by those boundaries (e.g., highest honor, antecedence, origination). This model allows us to
transcend Baumstarks merely descriptive approach to these feasts, and begin
to isolate the reasons why they have come to occupy their attested positions.
4
Sequence of the Feasts
4.1 Stephen
By failing to see the proximity of the 26 December feast of Stephen to the
beginning of the liturgical year, Baumstark also missed the most startling fact
about this feasts position in particular. On the Syriac Martyrology, Stephen is
not just first among the apostles; he is first among all saints. It cannot be coincidental that the martyrology begins with a commemoration of Christianitys
first martyr. In fact, the entry itself privileges his identity as the Protomartyr in
its description: the first confessor, at Jerusalem, Stephen the Apostle, the chief
of the confessors. The arrangement is striking. As the first-born of the
martyrs34 and the martyr of martyrs, Stephen sits at the head of days in the
32
33
34
Thus, the first entry on the Calendar of Carthage falls on 19 April.

Though Baby Varghese uses this expression with respect to the West Syriac tradition, it is
no less true of the East Syriac (Baby Varghese, West Syrian Liturgical Theology [Burlington,
VT: Ashgate. 2004] 143).
Hesychius of Jerusalem A Homily in Praise of Stephen the First Martyr 4, tr. Allen, P. in:
Let us Die that We May Live, ed. Pauline Allen, Boudewijn Dehandschutter, Johan Leemans,
and Wendy Mayer (New York; Routledge, 2003), 196.
301
Syriac Martyrology, presiding over the entire choir of martyrs that follows. This
is hardly surprising since at this stage, what girded the entire Christian calendar was the celebration of the martyrs.35 The Syriac Martyrology reveals a
time when the stature of Stephen was so great that his feast anchored the liturgical year itself.36
Stephen occupies no less of an exalted position on the Cappadocian calendars. With the conclusion of Christmas, the annual sanctoral cycle could begin.
The very first place within that cycle was accorded Stephen, the first to have
paved the way for the chorus of martyrs. In his homily for the feast,37Asterius
of Amasea (d. 410 ce) boldly defends the priority of Stephens feast over the
commemoration of the apostles celebrated on the next day. The intensity of
the Protomartyrs cult in the Amasean church is obvious:
...Stephen the thrice-blessed [was] first to sanctify the earth with his
own blood, by a pious context, second in time after the apostles but first
by his brave deeds.
Dont be displeased, Peter, dont be irritated, James, nor discontented,
John, if I not only compare the man with your love of wisdom, but even
want to assign him something more....
Yes, you are the elder of the disciples, holy Peter, proclaiming Jesus
Christ before all others. But when you were announcing the word of the
Gospel...this one entered the stadium, carrying off the crown of the
contest. He went to heaven and was glorified, even when you were still on
earth. And the climax was that the father Himself and the Son summoned
him by a wonderful vision....Let us also consider you, James, brother of
John. You were the preacher of Christ, His second prey, after Peter. Who
wouldnt admire your faith? You were simply called and without h
esitation
35
Vadiliki M. Lamberis, Architects of Piety: The Cappadocian Fathers and the Cult of the
Martyrs (New York: Oxford University. 2011) 14. Also, Nardones comment that in this
period, sainthood was still associated with martyrdom (Nardone 1981, 242).
36 Greg.Nyss., In Sanct. Steph. Protomartyris. 1 (PG 46,704). Notably, the same principle completes our understanding of the 7 January commemoration of Stephen on the Jerusalem
Lectionary. The rationale underlying Stephens position on the second day of the Epiphany
octave has escaped contemporary scholars (consider Talleys comment on the memorial:
the reason for this station so shortly after [the Epiphany] is less than clear [Talley 1991,
132]). The solution to this problem is immediately obvious in light of our discussion here.
Once again, Stephen occupies the first date following the beginning of the liturgical year
(which, for the Jerusalem church, fell on Epiphany). In this, we can recognize a deliberate
attempt to honor him before every other martyr.
37 On the attribution to Asterius, see discussion in Bovon 2003, 289, no. 61.
302
Mendez
you followed. You left your boat, and your father Zebedee. You suffered
for faith eagerly, I recognise: Herod, the tyrant, slew you with the sword,
though much later than Stephen. But why should I name them one by
one? Our man took away before all other saints the prize of martyrdom,
being the rst to meet the devil in battle and to vanquish him....38
For Asterius, there is no need to extend the comparisons further. As the
Protomartyr, Stephen is first among the saints, and all other commemorations
must give way to his.
4.2
Martyrdom as Ordering Principle
Asterius comparisons suggest that the martyrological tone of Stephens feast
extended into the commemorations that followed it.39 Notably, all the names
united in the block suffered martyrdom, with one possible exception, John.40
Even still, the Persian sage Aphrahat would link the same five names together
in his list of martyrs, of confessors, and of the persecuted, ranking them in a
manner analogous to the late December order:
Great and excellent is the martyrdom of Jesus. He surpassed in affliction
and in confession all who were before or after. And after Him was the
faithful martyr Stephen whom the Jews stoned. Simon (Peter) also and
Paul were perfect martyrs. And James and John walked in the footsteps of
their Master Christ.41
From this it appears that Gregory was mistaken in his characterization of these
days as memorials of the apostles and prophets. More likely, our late
December block was instituted to memorialize New Testament martyrs, or
more broadly, confessors.42 This seems especially evident when we compare
38
39
40
41
42
Aster. Amas., A Homily on Stephen the First Martyr, 2-3.

Also review Greg. Nyss., Laud. Alt. S. Steph. Protomartyris, 1 (PG 46,721ff.), which is actually
a homily for the 27 December feast of Peter, James, and John.
That exception is, of course, John, who is generally not considered a martyr, except in
sources relying on a purported statement of Papias. (See Culpepper, R. Alan, John, the Son
of Zebedee: The Life of a Legend [Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 2000], 171ff.; cf. Greg. Nyss., Laud.
Alt. S. Steph. Protomartyris 1 [PG 46,731], cited later in the text of this study, which assumes
John did not die violently).
Aphrahat, Demonstrations XXI, On Persecution, 23 (NPNF 2-13). It is conceivable that
Aphrahats sequence reflects the order of a parallel group of commemorations known in
his community, though no records support this possibility.
For this reason, the Holy Innocents eventually found a place on this order (so the Calendar
of Carthage). Certainly, their presence is partly owed to their association with Christmas;
303
Stephens position in this block to his position on the analogous block in the
East Syriac lectionary:
Sunday
The Great Sunday of the Resurrection [Easter]
Monday
John the Baptist
Tuesday
Peter and Paul, Apostles
Wednesday Holy Apostles
Thursday Bishops
Friday
Saturday Stephen43
The East Syriac order illustrates what one might expect of a block uniting New
Testament figures without a martyrological tone. It outlines the spiritual hierarchy of the church (cf. Gregory of Nyssa), opening with John the Baptist (the
greatest born of women [Mt. 11:11]), and continuing through the chief apostles Peter and Paul to the larger choir of apostles, down to the bishops. Stephen,
as a deacon, finds a place near the end of this block. Our block, on the other
hand, accords Stephen the highest place, and then moves through a series of
early confessors for the faith.
4.3
James, John, Peter, Paul
What scheme orders the elements in our block?44 Let us return to our preliminary reconstruction:
Preliminary Reconstruction
Dec. 26

27

28
43
44
Stephen
(Peter) James, and John
(Peter) and Paul
however, it may also follow their identity as innocent victims of violent death as a broadened expression of the original theme of martyrdom.
Adapted from Burkitt 1923, 310-11. Also compare the order of the Assyrian post-Epiphany
commemorations described in Duchesne 1919, 266.
This is a surprisingly neglected question in the literature, but one worth exploring. After
all, if the late December position of this block is artificial, the individual position of each
of its constituents is artificial, and in liturgy, artificial positions are rarely random. If we
can exclude external explanations for their individual positions within this self-contained
unit (e.g., historic anniversaries), then we have every reason to search for internal
explanations.
304
Mendez
K.-H. Uthemann cited the multiple positions attested for Peter as evidence that
the block was still young in the late fourth century, noch nicht allzu sehr festgeschrieben und darum beweglich ist.45 Is it possible to penetrate beyond this
fluidity, and reconstruct the blocks original form? I believe so.
Peters memorial may have been (1) a core element of the block transferred
from one date to the other in local variations, or (2) a secondary addition to the
block, independently developed in (at least) two sites, which in turn selected
different dates for the feast.46 However, the latter seems unlikely due to Peters
stature among the apostles, and the fame of his martyrdom. His feast should
be an original element of either the 27 December or 28 December dates. Let us
consider the two possibilities descriptively. On the one hand, the Cappadocian
grouping of Peter, James, and John (the inner three disciples of Jesus) evokes
such episodes as the Transfiguration and Gethsemane.47 By privileging members of the Twelve over Paul, the ordering principle here is hierarchical. By
contrast, the Nicomedian grouping of Peter and Paul reflects martyrological traditions that united the two as far as Rome (cf. the joint 29 June feast
for Peter and Paul) and Mesopotamia (cf. Aphrahats pairing of the two), and
unites the two names in the block that died in Rome.48 In its favor, this variant is undoubtedly more peculiar, prioritizing James and John over apostles of
higher stature, namely, Peter and Paul. It is easy to imagine a scenario where
the commemoration of Peter was moved closer to the head of the order, given
his stature as chief of the apostles. Nevertheless, it is not inconceivable that
an original feast to Peter, James, and John could have been broken up by Peters
natural attraction to Paul, his fellow martyr in Rome.
I believe a comparison of the geographical range of each variant resolves
this stalemate. As a few studies have observed, the Cappadocian variant can
also be reconstructed for the church of Antioch at the time of Chrysostom. This
indicates a range extending from Central Turkey to at least Northern Syria. On
the other hand, the Nicomedian variant underlies the late December entries
of the Jerusalem Lectionary, as noted earlier. The block is also attested in sixth
45
46
47
48
K.-H. Uthemann Ein Enkomion zum Fest des Hl. Paulus am 28. Dezember. Edition des
Textes (CPG 4850) mit Einleitung. Philohistr. Miscellanea in honorem Caroli Laga
Septuagenarii, Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 60 (Leuven: Peeters. 1994) 119-20.
Uthemann also cites evidence that a joint feast to Peter and Paul is not evinced in the
Antiochene homilies of John Chrysostom.
Only the first of these options would require further reconstruction.
Uthemann 1994, 119.
Ibid.
305
century North Africa.49 The widespread provenance of this variant strongly

suggests that it is the basic form of the block, which originally spread across
the world in the fourth century (otherwise, we might have to postulate multiple instances of the 27 to 28 December shift in far-reaching sites). It is also the
earliest attested form of the block, predating mention of the Cappadocian variant by some 20 years (given the reconstructed c. 360 date). The Cappadocian
variant, on the other hand, must be a secondary, regional variation of the
block, spreading between churches in direct contact. Secondary changes could
occur in this region because the liturgical year in use in (at least some of) these
churches, including Nyssa, began on 25 December. By preserving the axis
around which these commemorations were organized, these churches would
have best understood the consequences of shifting an element in the order as
heightening or reducing privilege. A desire to shift Peter forward in the block
to reflect his stature makes best sense in these communities.
This, then, is our definitive reconstruction of the basic form of the block:
Reconstruction
Dec. 26

27

28
Stephen
James and John
Peter and Paul
As noted above, the most peculiar aspect of this sequence is the position of
James and John above Peter and Paul. It is precisely this anomaly that betrays
the ordering principle of the block.
Can it be coincidental that the second day of the block commemorates
the second martyr identified in the book of Acts: the apostle James, the son
of Zebedee (Acts 12:1-2)? I propose that the martyrology tradition underlying
this sequence of feasts takes its inspiration from Acts, and assigns its first and
second entries to the purported first and second martyrs of Christian history:
Stephen and James. Only the honor of James as Christianitys second martyr
would justify a position in the sequence immediately following Stephen, but
preceding apostles of greater stature (Paul, and perhaps also Peter). In this
49
The Calendar of Carthage (c. 505-523) attests the block in an altered form, replacing John
the Evangelist with John the Baptist: 27 December. Of saint John the Baptist and of the
apostle James whom Herod killed (complete calendar in Acta Sanctorum 65 November
II.1, ed. Giovanni Battista de Rossi and Louis Duchesne [Brussels, 1894] 69-72). Additionally,
the feast of Peter and Paul appears only on its Western date (29 June), in its absence, a
feast to the Holy infants whom Herod killed has come to occupy the 28 December date.
306
Mendez
light, it appears Johns claim to the 27 December feast is secondary to that of

his brother. John shares his brothers commemoration through his frequent
pairing with him in the gospels (e.g., Lk. 5:10; 9:54), and their blood relationship. This pairing occurs even in the record of James death in Acts ([Herod]
had James, the brother of John, killed with the sword; Acts 12:2). Nevertheless,
it is James death that is fundamental to the feast; the skeletal principle of the
block is historical order of martyrdom.
In the absence of a witness to a 27 December feast for James alone, I will
not reconstruct such a feast here. Nevertheless, that such a feast existed is not
outside the realm of possibility. At some point in this internal reconstruction,
John seems thematically superfluous. Furthermore, if martyrdom is an organizing principle of these feasts, John seems all the more out of place, since
many fourth century Christians did not consider him a martyr. Intriguingly,
the 27 December homily of Gregory of Nyssa highlights both the martyrological spirit of the late December commemorations and the dubious position of
John within that context:
Thus Peter radiates with much holiness and reverence when he is suspended upside down on a cross in order not to equal himself with his
Saviors glory....James was beheaded out of love for Christ his true head.
As the Apostle says, Christ is the head of man and the entire church.
Blessed John endured many, diverse conflicts and succeeded in various
positions foster the religion. He endured an unsuccessful drowning
attempt and was judged to be numbered among the martyrs chorus.
[John] was held in esteem not by his suffering but by his desire to undergo
martyrdom, a type of death that became an immortal tribute to the one
who by his death graced the churches.50
By taking great lengths to defend the commemoration of John as a martyr
after Stephen and beside Peter and James, despite his never having been killed,
Gregory betrays the anomalous position of John in this block of feasts.
Ironically, Johns higher profile in the Christian tradition eventually came
to eclipse James claim to the feast. The later Hieronymian Martyrology will
identify the date primarily with John, but neglect his brother James, confusing
or replacing him with James, the brother of the Lord:
50
Greg. Nyss., Laud. Alt. S. Steph. Protomartyris 1 (PG 46,729-31), tr. Richard (Casimir)
McCambly and David Salomon.
307
Adsumptio S. Joannis evangelistae; et Ordinatio episcopatus S. Jacobi fratris

domini, qui ab apostolis primus est Judaeis Hierosolymis est episcopus ordinatus et tempore paschali martyrio coronatus.51
In the current Roman Martyrology, 27 December is set aside for John the
Evangelist with no trace of James at all.
5
Origin of the Feast
At the end of our discussion, it is worth asking: which church developed this
block of festivals? Unfortunately, the definitive answer is probably lost to us.
Still our discussion at least narrows the possibilities. As noted earlier, the feast
of St. Stephen occupies 26 December precisely because this date represented
the first possible position for a martyr commemoration in the liturgical year.
Undoubtedly then, we are seeking a church that: (1) was already celebrating
the Nativity on 25 December some time before the year 360 ce (the date of the
Nicomedian source for the Syriac Martyrology), and (2) recognized that date as
the beginning of the liturgical year. We are also keen to avoid any community
that (3) does not attest this block of feasts by 360 ce, or (4) attests an established feast of Peter and Paul, as such a commemoration might have precluded
the development of the 28 December feast. The first constraint eliminates a
number of options, including Alexandria,52 Cappadocia,53 Constantinople,54
and two cities identified in previous studies as the source of the block:
Jerusalem (so Dix)55 and Antioch (so Nardone).56 The second and fourth constraints probably exclude a variety of sites in North Africa, including Carthage.57
The third and fourth certainly eliminate Rome.
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
Cod. Bernensis text; in Acta Sanctorum 63 November II.1, ed. Giovanni Battista de Rossi
and Louis Duchesne (Brussels, 1894), 2.
Talley 1991, 140-141.
Roll 1995, 174. Talley 1991, 138.
Talley 1991, 137-38.
See sources cited in note 21.
Nardone 1981, 242-43. In In Diem Natal., Chrysostom indicates that the feast was introduced to Antioch only ten years before: c. 375 ce (PG 49,351). See discussion in Talley 1991,
138. This is the most serious oversight of Nardones discussion.
As noted earlier, the Calendar of Carthage (c. 505-523 ce) begins on 19 April. Moreover, it
is clear the 29 June feast of Peter and Paul had spread to North Africa by the time of
Augustine (Kunzler 2001, 441).
308
Mendez
The early date posited for the block points us towards a place of origin in
or near the West. The 25 December Nativity feast originated the West,58 and
it is in Western Europe that we consistently find it inaugurating the liturgical
year.59 It is also safe to presume that these feasts developed some years after the
introduction of Christmas, through a later, deliberate expansion of the church
calendar to include the commemorations of apostolic martyrs. The first half
of the fourth century is the most appropriate window for these developments.
6 Conclusion
Our study began as an attempt to understand the position of three feasts of the
Christian year. At its conclusion, we have recovered the broader design of at
least two fourth century calendars. This disproportionate return speaks to the
forgotten profile of the post-Nativity commemorations, feasts that once
anchored liturgical life of thousands of fourth and fifth century Christians.
It also speaks to the forgotten profile of Stephen in particular. It is common
wisdom that Stephens cult catapulted into prominence with the purported
discovery of his relics in 415 ce. However, our findings suggest that this cult
was no less energized in a number of fourth century communities. It is perhaps in this climate that the later discovery of his relics is best understood. As
communities accorded Stephen the highest position in their sanctoral cycles
as the martyr of martyrs and chief of the confessors, the absence of his relics became unbearable. The responsibility to produce them weighed heavily
on the church of Jerusalem. In this light, we should understand the discovery
of Stephens bones, and their enshrinement at a dedicated Martyrium, less as
the cause of the Protomartyrs widespread fame than as its consequence.
Finally, our conclusions highlight the power of boundaries in ritual time
both to create and destroy symbolic design. In the fourth century, a liturgical
axis positioned at 25 December attracted a particular block of commemorations and established them among the most prominent celebrations of the
year. Unfortunately, the movement of that axis to other positions has long
since eroded the profile of those feasts. Today, Stephens feast is eclipsed by
the Nativity season that surrounds it except in a few nations with a special
attachment to the saint. Ironically, the post-Nativity position that once elevated the profile of this feast now undermines it. Unsurprisingly then, this
58
59
Talley 1991, 85-87. This is also the testimony of Chrysostom: this [feast], which has been
from of old to the inhabitants of the West and has now been brought to us (PG 49,351).
Charles K. Riepe, Beginning the Church Year, Worship 35 (1960) 147.
309
commemoration has received far less attention in the literature than its
ancient prominence merits. I am confident that the exploration of the licensing processes and movements of parallel axes will resolve other outstanding
questions in the sanctoral cycle, and update more than a few incorrect or
incomplete answers to previous questions.
Vigiliae
Christianae
brill.com/vc
The Exaltation of Seth and Nazirite Asceticism in

the Cave of Treasures
Jason Scully
47 Napoleon St. #2
Newark, NJ 07105, USA
Jason.Scully@shu.edu
Abstract
This article argues that the Cave of Treasures mixes Jewish themes concerning the exaltation of Seth with ascetical themes found in Syrian Christian writings about Nazirite
purity. The Cave of Treasures emphasis on Seths priestly duty and sexual purity echoes
Syriac Christian authors, like Ephrem and Aphrahat, who also describe Seth in terms of
Nazirite purity. Since the East-Syriac recension of the text contains explicit Nazirite
influences that are absent from the original pre-fourth-century West-Syriac recension,
an East-Syrian scholar probably revised the composition sometime between the fifththrough seventh-centuries. The later redactor took the texts original emphasis on purity
and interpreted this purity according to the East Syriac model of Nazirite asceticism
that was common among other seventh-century East-Syriac authors, like Dadisho and
Isaac of Nineveh.
Keywords
Cave of Treasures Nazirite Seth asceticism Ephrem Aphrahat
Scholars have pointed out that the anonymous Syriac text, known as the Cave
of Treasures, reinterprets Jewish traditions within the context of an explicitly
Christian framework.1 In addition to two comprehensive commentaries on the
1 For example, see A. Kowalski, Il sangue nel racconto della passione di Cristo nella Caverna
dei Tesori siriaca, pages 163-73 in Sangue e antropologia nella teologia. Atti della VI settimana,
Roma, 23-28 novembre 1987 (ed. F. Vattioni; Centro Studi Sanguis Christi 6; Roma: Pia Unione
koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 4|doi ./-4
The Exaltation of Seth and Nazirite Asceticism
311
Cave of Treasures,2 recent studies have highlighted ideological similarities

between the Cave of Treasures and texts such as the Testament of Adam,3 the
Combat of Adam,4 the Life of Adam and Eve,5 the Apocalypse of Paul,6 Ephrems
Paradise Hymns,7 and other Patristic texts.8 In addition, scholars have also
demonstrated that the Cave of Treasures is a valuable witness to early Christian
piety associated with the site of Golgotha,9 early Christian attitudes towards
Jerusalem,10 and early Christian polemics against Jews and Muslims.11
While these studies make valuable contributions, no one has yet written a
detailed study on the similarities between the Cave of Treasures and ascetical themes in Syriac Christianity. This article will supply specific examples of
the way the author and subsequent redactors of the Cave of Treasures used

2
3
4
5
6
8
9
10
11
del Preziosissimo Sangue, 1989) 164: The Cave of Treasures merita de essere chiamata un
midrash christiano per eccellenza. Also see, A. Toepel, Die Adam- und Seth-Legenden im
syrischen Buch der Schatzhhle (CSCO 618; Louven: Peeters, 2006) 4: Das Buch der
Schatzhhle wolle die den Juden verlorengegangenen Geschlechtsregister wiederherstellen und auf diese Weise die legitime Abstammung Christi beweisen.
A. S.-M. Ri, Commentaire de la Caverne des Trsors (CSCO 581; Leuven: Peeters, 2000) and
A. Toepel, Die Adam- und Seth Legenden.
A. S.-M. Ri, La Caverne des Trsors et le Testament dAdam, pages 111-22 in V Symposium
Syriacum (ed. R. Lavenant; Rome: Pontificium Institutum Studiorum Orientalium, 1990).
B. Bagatti, Qualche chiarificazione su la caverna dei tresori, Euntes docete 32 (1979) 27784 and B. Bagatti, Apocrifi adamitici, Augustinianum 23 (1983) 213-25.
B. Bagatti, Qualche chiarificazione su la caverne dei tresori, 277-84 and B. Bagatti,
Apocrifi adamitici, 213-25.
A. Desreumaux, Lenvironnement de lApocalypse de Paul. propos dun nouveau
manuscrit syriaque de la Caverne des trsors, pages 185-92 in Pense grecque et sagesse
dOrient. Hommage Michel Tardieu (eds. M.-A. Amir-Moezzi, et al.; Bibliothque de
lcole des Hautes tudes, Sciences religieuses 142; Turnhout: Brepols, 2010).
G. A. Anderson, The Cosmic Mountain: Eden and Its Early Interpreters in Syriac
Christianity, pages 187-224 in Genesis 1-3 in the History of Exegesis (ed. G. A. Robbins;
Lewiston: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1988); A. S.-M. Ri, La Caverne des Trsors et Mar
phrem, pages 71-83 in VII Symposium Syriacum (ed. R. Lavenant; Rome: Pontificium
Institutum Studiorum Orientalium, 1998).
M. J. H. M. Poorthuis, Tradition and Religious Authority: On a Neglected Parallel to
Mishna Abot 1.110, Hebrew Union College Annual 66 (1995) 169-201.
B. Bagatti, Qualche chiarificazione su la caverna dei tresori, and Apocrifi adamitici.
S. Ruzer, A Long Way from the Cave of Treasures to Jerusalem: Pilgrimage or Exile?, Jews
and Slavs 10 (2003) 19-26; S. Ruzer and A. Kofsky, Syriac Idiosyncrasies: Theology and
Hermeneutics in Early Syriac Literature, (Jerusalem Studies in Religion and Culture 11;
(Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2010) 108-19.
F. Briquel-Chatonnet, Some Reflections about the Figure of Abraham in the Syriac
Literature at the Beginning of Islam, The Harp 22 (2007) 157-75.
312
Scully
Syriac Christian ascetical ideals to supplement Jewish traditions surrounding

the biblical account of Seth and his descendants. In doing so, I will shed new
light on the scholarly debate surrounding the complex dating and composition history of the text, which exists in two different recensions: an original
West-Syriac composition and a later East-Syriac redaction. I will argue that
the later East-Syriac version of the text contains ascetical themes that contribute to our understanding of the dating history of both of these recensions. In
particular, the East-Syriac version of the texts includes elements of Nazirite
monasticism, which was a common phenomenon among East-Syriac speaking
Christians in the fourththrough seventh-centuries.12 The inclusion of Nazirite
elements in the East-Syriac recension of the text supports a dating theory
that assigns an early date (third- or fourth-century) to the West-Syriac original of the Cave of Treasures and a later date to the East-Syriac redaction (fifththrough seventh-century). Since fourththrough seventh-century East-Syriac
authors commonly incorporated Nazirite ascetical themes into their texts, it is
likely that the later East-Syriac redactor added Nazirite language to the earlier
West-Syriac version of the text.
This article will be divided into three main sections. In the first section, I will
describe the original West-Syriac account of Seth and his descendants. This
material is the same in both the West- and East-Syriac versions and, as such,
is a witness to the original Jewish and early Christian background of the text.
The second part will examine the ascetical material that is unique to the later
East-Syriac recension. This material was added to the original version of the
text and represents the influence of a very specific Christian ascetical current
beginning in fourth-century Syria, namely the Nazirite ideal. The final section
will discuss the implications of these ascetical additions regarding the dating
and composition history of the text.
1
Seth and His Descendants in the Original West-Syriac Version of

the Cave of Treasures: Reinterpreting the Jewish Background
The Jewish background of the Cave of Treasures has received significant attention in scholarly literature. In addition to Albrecht Gtzes initial study in 1922,
Alexander Toepels recent commentary, published in 2006, adequately covers
the significant points of comparison between the Jewish literature and the
12
The presence of Nazirite ascetical themes in the Cave of Treasures has been mentioned by
P. Wood, Syrian Identity in the Cave of Treasures, The Harp 22 (2007) 136.
313
Cave of Treasures.13 The full extent of these comparisons need not be repeated
here, except to note that the Cave of Treasures reinterprets Jewish apocalyptic
literature when it portrays Seth and his descendants in terms of the initial
Paradise of Adams life in the Garden of Eden, particularly his likeness with the
leisurely life of the angels.14
According to the West-Syriac author of the Cave of Treasures, the creation
of Adam served as a replacement for the fallen angels, and after Adams fall
this angelic life was next extended to Seth. The author draws a connection
between Seth and the angels when he refers to the children of Seth as the sons
of God, which is the name which is more excellent than all other names.15
The authors of Jewish apocalyptic texts, like the pre-Maccabean portions of
1 Enoch, had already interpreted the sons of God in Gen 6,4 as a reference
to the angels who descended onto earth to beget children with the daughters
of men (following the LXXs rendering of the phrase in Gen 6,4 as the angels
13
14
15
A. Gtze, Die Schatzhhle: berlieferung und Quellen, pages 5-91 in Sitzungsberichte der
Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften (Heidelberg: Carl Winters Universitts
buchhandlung, 1922) and A. Toepel, Die Adam- und Seth Legenden. Also see A. M. Denis,
Introduction la littrature religieuse judo-hellnistique (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000) 29-38.
Articles on specific topics include A. Toepel, Yonton Revisited: A Case Study in the
Reception of Hellenistic Science within Early Judaism, Harvard Theological Review 99:3
(2006) 235-45 and H. Spurling and E. Grypeou, Pirke de-Rabbi Eliezer and Eastern
Christian Exegesis, Collectanea Christiana Orientalia 4 (2007) 217-43.
Like the author of the Cave of Treasures, Jewish Midrashic authors also state that God
formed Adam in the Garden with angelic attributes. Sections of the Genesis Rabbah
whose initial composition probably began in the third-century, making it roughly contemporaneous with the Cave of Treasuresreflect these similarities. For example, Rabbi
Joshua says that God created Adam with the same upright posture as the ministering
angels. See Gen. Rab. 14,3 (Freedman:112). Page numbers refer to H. Freedman, trans.,
Midrash Rabbah: Genesis (London: The Soncino Press, 1983): He created him [Adam]
with four attributes of the higher beings [i.e. the angels] and four of the lower creatures
[i.e. beasts]...[His celestial attributes are]: he stands upright, like the ministering angels;
and speaks, understands, and sees, like the ministering angels. Likewise, Rabbi Human
states that Adams likeness to the ministering angels was not just physical, but that he also
enjoyed the same level of dignity as the ministering angels. He says that the phrase Man
became like one of us (Gen. 3,22) refers to Adams likeness with the ministering angels,
since his nearness to God in the Garden of Eden meant that he was within the same partition as the ministering angels. See Gen. Rab. 21,1 (Freedman:172) and 21,5 (Freedman:174).
For further background on the themes of Adams second paradise and angelic life in the
Cave of Treasures, see S. Ruzer and A. Kofsky, Syriac Idiosyncrasies, 92-99.
See CT 7,2 (CSCO 486:57). Page numbers refer to La Caverne des Trsors: Les deux recensions syriaques (ed. A. S.-M. Ri; CSCO 486, Scriptores Syri 207; Louven: Peeters, 1987). All
translations are my own.
314
Scully
of God).16 By contrast, when the West-Syriac author of the Cave of Treasures

traces out the progression of angelic purity from Adam to Seth, he claims that
Seths descendants were the true sons of God of Gen 6, rather than fallen
angels, as described in 1 En 6-11.17 The authors polemic against Jewish traditions that associated the sons of God in Gen 6 with the fallen angels is explicit:
The sons of Seth descended from the outskirts of Paradise to the valley, to
the camp of the sons of Cain, and had intercourse with them and the
daughters of Cain conceived with the sons of Seth and bore giants, and
the sons of giants who resembled towers. Because of these things, ancient
writers have fallen into error and have written that angels descended
from heaven and had intercourse with the daughters of men and with
them bore these famous giants. But they do not understand very well nor
do they see with the light of truth that this [ability to beget giants] is not
in spiritual natures. Demons, likewise, although they are foul and have
the desire for adultery, do not have this [ability] to unite with women in
their nature, since they are neither male nor female in their nature.18
In the mind of this author, Seths history replaces the older Enochic history of
the angels who fell from heaven on account of their lust for the daughters of
men. Seth and his descendantsnot the angelswere the sons of God who
lost their purity when they married the descendants of Cain.
The high regard that the West-Syriac author of the Cave of Treasures has for
Seth and his descendants reveals not only a familiarity with Jewish apocalyptic traditions, but also a strong desire to locate the image and glory of God in
Seth. As scholars have already claimed, this desire to reinterpret the Enochic
16
17
18
For further Jewish and Christian background on the identification of the Sons of God
with the angels and with Seths descendants, see P. Alexander, The Targumim and Early
Exegesis of Sons of God in Genesis 6, Journal of Jewish Studies 23 (1972) 60-71; A. F. J.
Klijn, Seth in Jewish, Christian and Gnostic Literature (Supplements to Novum Testamentum
46; Leiden: Brill, 1977) 60-80; G. Stroumsa, Another Seed: Studies in Gnostic Mythology (Nag
Hammadi Studies 24; Leiden: Brill, 1984) 124-34.
As A. S.-M. Ri has pointed out, the Cave of Treasures resembles 1 En 1-36 in a number of
respects, most notably, the juxtaposition of the seventh mountain and the accursed valley
(1 En 24-27) and the parallel use of oaths. See A. S.-M. Ri, Commentaire, 212-13. Also see
E. C. Quinn, The Quest of Seth for the Oil of Life (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962)
30, where she notes parallels between Sethian literature and Enochic literature regarding
Seths journey to Paradise, the oil from the tree of life, the promise of reward in the life to
come, and Seth as a hero.
CT 15,1-8 (CSCO 486:113-15).
315
legend by identifying Seth and his descendants as the sons of God rather than
the fallen angels is a distinctively Christian reworking of the Jewish legends.19
For the author of the Cave of Treasures, the original angelic purity is passed on
in a linear progression from the angels, to Adam, and finally to Seth and his
descendants. Once sin caused the angels and Adam to lose the image of God,
Seth became the next in the linear progression of biblical heroes who would
experience the benefits of prelapsarian, angelic purity.
The early West-Syriac author of the Cave of Treasures reinterprets Jewish
Enochic tradition in his portrayal of the lives of Seth and his descendants. This
author describes Seth as perfect in the same way that Adam was perfect and
he portrays Seth in a way that is reminiscent of Adam in the Garden: Seth acts
as the governor of his descendants on account of his purity in the same way
that Adam acted as governor over the world on account of his prelapsarian
purity.20 Furthermore, Seths descendants, like Adam, are called the sons of
God and they live only thirty spans of the measure of the Spirit away from
Paradise.21 They are, in fact, so close to Paradise that they continually hear
the angels singing.22 Their close proximity means that they replace the fallen
19
20
21
22
There is not a scholarly consensus on the origin of identifying Seth and his descendants
with the sons of God from Gen 6. L. Wickham first argued that the rejection of the view
that the angels of God united with the daughters of men would not come to dominate
Christian exegesis until the fourth-century during the Christological debates. See
L. R. Wickham, The Sons of God and the Daughters of Men: Genesis VI.2 in Early
Christian Exegesis, pages 135-47 in Language and Meaning. Studies in Hebrew Language
and Biblical Exegesis (eds. J. Barr, et al., Oudtestamentische Studin 19; Leiden: Brill, 1974)
145. According to A. Klijn, Seth in Jewish, Christian and Gnostic Literature, 61, the Christian
writer, Julius Africanus, writing in the third-century, was the first person to identify the
sons of God in Gen 6 with Seth and his descendants instead of the angels. A. Toepel, Die
Adam- und Seth-Legenden, 232, claims that the theme of the righteous replacing the fallen
angels can ultimately be traced back to Origen in the third century. G. Stroumsa, meanwhile, locates the notion of the sons of God as Seths descendants in Josephus Ant. 1.6971, but he concludes that Josephus was probably echoing an earlier tradition. See
G. Stroumsa, Another Seed, 125-34. For further background on this issue, see H. Spurling
and E. Grypeou, Pirke de-Rabbi Eliezer and Eastern Christian Exegesis, 224-27 and
J. Tubach, Seth and the Sethites in Early Syriac Literature, pages 187-201 in Eves Children
(ed. G. P. Luttikhuizen; Leiden: Brill, 2003) 193-201.
CT 6,2 (CSCO 486:49) and CT 7,1 (CSCO 486:57).
See CT 3,15 (CSCO 486:25): Paradise was high and it was thirty spans according to the
measurement of the spirit higher than all the tall mountains and it surrounded the whole
earth. Cf. CT 7,6 (CSCO 486:59).
CT 7,5 (CSCO 486:57): They continually hear the voices of the angels who praise [God] in
Paradise.
316
Scully
angels and experience the same sort of heavenly existence once enjoyed by
the angels, even though they are postlapsarian human beings: [Seth and his
descendants] ascended [the mountain] in the place of the rank of demons
who fell from heaven. They were in peace and tranquility and there was not
anxiety for anything other than to praise and worship with the angels.23 Seth
and his descendants, then, enjoy a care-free, heavenly existence as sons of
God. Throughout the Cave of Treasures, this heavenly existence is juxtaposed
with the descendants of Cain, who lead wicked lives in the valley below the
mountain of Paradise.24
This heavenly existence afforded to Seth and his descendants is a sign that
God has reversed Adams curse for them. They do not have to work for their
food because they eat fruit from the trees:
[Seth and his descendants] did not experience any weariness or fatigue
and there was no seed time or harvest except that they nourished themselves from those delightful fruits from those glorious trees and they
refreshed themselves with the perfume and the delightful fragrance
whose scent came from Paradise.25
In Gen 3,17, God had told Adam that the consequences of his sin would be that
he would have to exert effort in order to make the earth yield a harvest. Seth
and his descendants, however, do not need to work for their food, but instead
spend all their time praising God in the place of the fallen angels.
Although the original West-Syriac version of the Cave of Treasures assimilates Rabbinic and apocalyptic traditions concerning the angelic portrayal
of Seths life, it also contains material that is not commonly found in Jewish
sources: first, the West-Syrian author places considerable stress on the ritual
and sexual purity of Seth and his descendants; and second, he assigns a more
significant role than do the Jewish sources to Seths priestly function as a mediator. The second Paradise of Seth and his descendants is described with these
two non-Jewish qualities.
First, the author states that Seth rules over his people with sexual purity.
Even though Seth begets descendants through sexual intercourse, he does so
in chaste fashion, as the West-Syriac author states, without any depraved lust
or licentious infirmity.26 Likewise, Seths sons and daughters also maintained
23
24
25
26
CT 7,4-5 (CSCO 486:57).

See CT 5,31 (CSCO 486:47) and CT 12 (CSCO 486:89-97).
CT 7,7 (CSCO 486:59).
CT 7,9-10 (CSCO 486:59).
317
moral and sexual purity. For example, the West-Syrian author writes the following about Seth and his descendants: They were holy and their wives were
pure. Their sons were holy and their daughters were noble and their daughters
were pure. There was no disorder, envy, or anger in them.27 The West-Syrian
author stresses the sexual purity of Seth and his descendants throughout his
narrative.
Second, the West-Syrian author portrays Seth as a priest who ministers
before Adams body in the Cave of Treasures.28 According to the author, the
Garden of Eden existed as a type for the Church and Adam ministered there
as the first priest.29 After his expulsion from Paradise, Adam still wanted a
place where he could continue with his priestly duties so he built the Cave of
Treasures on top of a mountain, calling it a house of prayer. Upon his death,
Seth placed Adams body in the Cave of Treasures and took over Adams priestly
role by ministering before Adams body.30 The author then adds that Seth and
his descendants went before God every day (along with their daughters and
sons) and they ascended to the top of the holy mountain and worshiped there
and they were blessed (etbrek) by the body of Adam.31 Adams body serves as
a relic and memorial of his prelapsarian existence and it is Seths priestly care
over his body that enables him and his descendants to share some of the benefits of Adams original glory.
While Seths ascetic purity and priestly activities enabled him to reverse the
fall, his future descendants failed to maintain the level of purity demonstrated
27
28
29
30
31
CT 7,8-9 (CSCO 486:59). Instead of there was no disorder, envy, or anger, the East-Syriac
recension has there was no lust or licentiousness. See CT 7,9 (CSCO 486:58).
For background on the distinctive ritual language in the Cave of Treasures, see F. BriquelChatonnet, Some Reflections about the Figure of Abraham in the Syriac Literature at the
Beginning of Islam, 158. For connections between the cave imagery and the Eucharist, see
S. Ruzer, A Long Way from the Cave of Treasures to Jerusalem, 23 and S. Ruzer and
A. Kofsky, Syriac Idiosyncrasies: Theology and Hermeneutics in Early Syriac Literature,
92-93.
CT 4,1 (CSCO 486:29): Since Adam was king, priest, and prophet, God brought him into
Paradise so that he might minister in Eden, the Holy Church. The East-Syriac recension
adds that Adam ministered in Eden as a priest in the Holy Church. See CT 4,1 (CSCO
486:28).
CT 6,21 (CSCO 486:55) and CT 7,20 (CSCO 486:63) where Seth ministers before the body
of Adam in the Cave of Treasures.
CT 7,12 (CSCO 486:61). According to J. P. Smith, etbrek can also be translated as to visit
holy places and tombs, which implies that Seth and his descendants viewed Adams body
as a holy relic. See J. P. Smith, A Compendious Syriac Dictionary: Founded Upon the
Thesaurus Syriacus of R. Payne Smith, DD (Oxford: Oxford University Press; Eugene: Wipf
and Stock Publishers, 1999) 56.
318
Scully
by Seth and his immediate offspring. Seths later descendants therefore experience a second fall when they lust after the daughters of Cain, who live in the
valley below Seth and his descendants. According to the text, the children of
Seth fell in the following manner:
The sons of Seth burned with the lust of fire and when the daughters of
Cain saw the beauty of men in the sons of Seth, they set upon them as
lecherous beasts and defiled their bodies. And the sons of Seth slew their
souls by fornication with the daughters of Cain.32
The text goes on to explain that Seths descendants attempted to go back up
the mountain but God blocked their entrance with fire.33 The fall of Seths
descendants, therefore, is the direct result of a failure to maintain the original
purity they once practiced.
This emphasis on Seths sexual purity and priestly role as mediator reflects
the original authors interest in Christian ascetical ideals common throughout
Syriac speaking regions of the ancient world. As we shall see below, the EastSyriac redactor adds to this portrayal of Seth by using this early description of
Seths sexual purity and priestly function as a portrait of the Nazirite ascetic.
2
The East-Syriac Addition: Nazirite Asceticism as Found in Fourththrough Seventh-Century Syriac Ascetical Authors
We have just seen that the original West-Syriac author of the Cave of Treasures
portrays Seth and his descendants in terms of angelic purity, as found in the
Jewish traditions, but we have also seen that he shows a strong interest in sexual and priestly mediation, possibly from early Christian ascetical ideals. The
rest of this paper will now argue that the later East-Syriac redactor regarded
Seths ascetical holiness and purity as a model for the Nazirite ideal, which
began to take on a technical meaning among fourththrough seventh-century
Syriac authors. For this reason, the East-Syriac redactor added explicit Nazirite
references into his revised version of the Cave of Treasures as a way of reinterpreting Seths purity in light of Nazirite asceticism.
Although a number of scholars of Syriac monastic history have identified and described different forms of Syriac asceticism, no one has yet mentioned the importance of Nazirite asceticism for Syriac monastic history. In
32
33
CT 12,17 (CSCO 486:95).

CT 12,19-20 (CSCO 486:95-97).
319
his notable article, Asceticism in the Church of Syria: The Hermeneutics of

Early Syrian Monasticism, Sydney Griffiths described several key terms in the
traditional Syriac vocabulary of asceticism and monasticism, but he did not
mention the term Nazirite as one of these terms.34 Likewise, Arthur Vbus,
Robert Murray, and Daniel Caner all do not mention Nazirite asceticism in
their otherwise excellent and thorough studies on Syriac monastic history.35
With the exception of a few passing references, Nazirite as a technical term
in Syriac monasticism has gone unnoticed.36
In what follows, I will proceed first by describing other Syriac accounts of
Nazirite asceticism and then by locating the places in the later East-Syriac version of the text that highlight this redactors participation in the broader movement of Syriac authors who used the term Nazirite as a technical ascetical
term. These explicit Nazirite references in the Cave of Treasures are only found
in the East-Syriac recension of the text and are absent from the original WestSyriac version.
Although the Nazirites appeared throughout Palestine and evidence of
their existence can be found in the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Septuagint, the writings of Philo and Josephus, and the Rabbinic texts, Syriac speaking Christians
especially appropriated the term Nazirite to describe various ascetical movements that reflected the biblical account of the Nazirite vow.37 According to
34
35
36
37
See S. H. Griffith, Asceticism in the Church of Syria: The Hermeneutics of Early Syrian
Monasticism, pages 220-45 in Asceticism (eds. V. L. Wimbush and R. Valantasis; Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1995) 223.
See A. Vbus, History of Asceticism in the Syrian Orient 3 vols. (CSCO 184, Subsidia 14,
CSCO 197, Subsidia 17, CSCO 500, Subsidia 81; Louven: Peeters, 1958, 1960, 1988); R. Murray,
The Exhortation to Candidates for Ascetical Vows at Baptism in the Ancient Syrian
church, New Testament Studies 21 (1974-5) 58-80; R. Murray, Symbols of Church and
Kingdom (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1975) 11-18; D. Caner, Wandering,
Begging Monks: Spiritual Authority and the Promotion of Monasticism in Late Antiquity
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002).
See G. Kretschmar, Ein Beitrag zur Frage nach dem Ursprung frhchristlicher Askese,
pages 129-79 in Askese und Mnchtum in der alten Kirche (ed. K. S. Frank; Darmstadt:
Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1975) 145 and D. Brner-Klein, Nasirer, volume 25,
fascicle 198, columns 795-804 in Reallexikon fr Antike und Christentum (Stuttgart:
A. Hiersemann, 2013) 804: In der syr. Kirche folgt aus des biblisch geforderten Heiligkeit
(Lev. 11, 44; Mt. 5, 56) dauernde (sexuelle) Abstinenz.
For background to source material on Nazirites during the time of the Cave of Treasures,
see S. Chepey, Nazirites in Late Second Temple Judaism (Leiden: Brill, 2005), though
Chepeys work does not touch on the Syriac understanding of the Nazirite. Likewise, for a
brief summary of references to the term Nazirite in Jewish and early Greek and Latin
Christian writings, see D. Brner-Klein, Nasirer.
320
Scully
Num 6, this vow enabled an Israelite man or women to achieve a priestly level
of holiness through abstaining from wine, avoiding contact with dead bodies, and cutting ones hair.38 Whereas the Rabbinic material largely rejected
the Nazirite movement as overly rigorous, Syriac authors praised the high
standards of Nazirite piety.39 These authors, however, redefined the Nazirite
vow in terms of their own understanding of ascetical practices. Although
sexual purity was not an essential part of the original vow described in
Numbers, Syriac Christians began to associate the term Nazirite with celibate
ascetics.
Aphrahat and Ephrem, both writing in the middle of the fourth-century,
were among the first Syriac authors to reshape the Old Testament understanding of the Nazirite vow into a technical description of the celibate monk, and
then to connect this understanding with the legends surrounding Seth and his
descendants. Looking first at Aphrahat, we see that he often uses the word
nzar, the verbal root of Nazirite, to describe the abstinence the monk keeps
while fasting.40 In addition, Aphrahat explicitly connects the sexual purity of
Seth and his descendants with the Nazirite vow. When he praises the goods
of celibacy over the goods of marriage, for example, Aphrahat makes the following comparison between the virginity of Seth and his descendants and the
Naziriteship of Samson:
The sons of Seth were virtuous in their virginity, but when they became
mixed up with the daughters of Cain, they were blotted out with the
38
For further definition of the Nazirite vow, see T. W. Cartledge, Vows in the Hebrew Bible and
Ancient Near East (Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 147; Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1992).
39 See J. Neusner, Vow-Taking, The Nazirites and the Law: Does James Advice to Paul accord
with Halakah?, pages 59-82 in James the Just and Christian Origins (eds. B. D. Chilton and
C. A. Evans; Supplements to Novum Testamentum 98; Leiden: Brill, 1999) 76-79, where he
concludes that the rabbis held a negative view of vow taking and held that Nazirites in
particular were weak and arrogant. However, S. Chepey, Nazirites in Late Second Temple
Judaism, 188, disagrees with Neusner and cites evidence of positive Rabbinic attitudes
towards the Nazirites.
40 Aphrahat, Dem. 3,1 (PS 1:100:21). Column and line numbers are from Aphraatis Sapientis
Persae Demonstrationes (ed. J. Parisot; Patrologia Syriaca 1; Paris: Firmin-Didot, 1894). He
also praises the Naziriteship of Samson throughout his Demonstrations. See Aphrahat,
Dem. 4,8 (PS 1:152:22), 6,3 (PS 1:257:4), and 14,40 (PS 1:689:2). In Demonstration 15, he compares the Lords care over Samson, his chosen Nazirite, with the Lords care over the pious
Christians in his audience. See Aphrahat, Dem. 15,5 (PS 1:735:6).
321
water of the flood. Samson was honorable in his Naziriteship and in his
virginity, but he corrupted his Naziriteship with his licentiousness.41
For Aphrahat, the purity of virginity exercised by Seth and his descendants
before their fall is equivalent to the Nazirite purity exercised by Samson before
his fall. When Aphrahat envisions the purity and virtuousness of Seth and his
descendants, he has the Nazirite model in mind.
For Ephrem, the Nazirite responsibilities enabled the monk to live in a way
that resembled the life of Adam in the Garden. Like in the Cave of Treasures,
Ephrem states that the fragrances from Paradise benefit even those who are
outside of its borders by moderating somewhat that curse upon the earth by
the scent of its fragrances.42 He goes on to explain, however, that the vines of
Paradise rush out to meet only those ascetics who lead a life of virginity and
abstain from wine.43 Ephrem therefore envisions those ascetics who retain
the Nazirite emphasis on celibacy and abstinence from wine as the only ones
who are capable of truly recovering the life of Paradise. Like Aphrahat, Ephrem
associates this type of purity with Seth and his descendants, who, he says, lived
on the foothills of Paradise and benefited from its fragrances.44 Both Aphrahat
and Ephrem, then, characterize the purity of Seth and his descendants in terms
of Nazirite purity and they both see this purity as the reason why he was able to
live in a way that resembled the life of Adam in the Garden.
Building on this early tradition, later Syriac authors began to use the term
Nazirite to designate a strict form of ascesis. For example, John the Solitary,
an early fifth-century ascetical author, says that John the Baptists exterior
conduct resembled the Nazirites because he fasted.45 This ascetical use of
the term Nazirite became especially common among East-Syrian authors in
the seventh-century, including Dadisho of Qatar (second half of the seventh-
century) and Isaac of Nineveh (born circa 613).
41 Aphrahat, Dem. 18,9 (PS 1:837:16-21).

42 Ephrem Hymnen de Paradiso 11,13 (CSCO 174:49). Page numbers refer to Des Heiligen
Ephraem des Syrers Hymnen de Paradiso und contra Julianum (ed. E. Beck; CSCO 174,
Scriptores Syri 78; Louven: Peeters, 1957).
43 Ephrem Hymnen de Paradiso 7,18 (CSCO 174:125).
44 Ephrem Hymnen de Paradiso 1,10-13 (CSCO 174:3-4).
45 John the Solitary, Ein Dialog 3 (Dedering:63). Page numbers refer to Ein Dialog ber Die
Seele und Die Affecte des Menschen (ed. S. Dedering; Leiden: Brill, 1936).
322
Scully
Dadisho uses the term Naziriteship often in his Commentary on Abba

Isaiah.46 Although he does not supply a clear definition of Naziriteship,
Dadisho nevertheless includes the term in multiple lists of corporeal actions
that monks should consider when they want to fend off the passions and
become perfect practitioners of the ascetical life. For example, he suggests
Naziriteship alongside a number of specific works of the body, including fasting, vigils, sleeping on the bare earth, genuflections, prostrations, self-denial,
and renunciation, the office of the psalms, study of the scriptures, prayer, manual labor, compunction, tears, and a host of other activities.47 Dadishos simple
inclusion of the word Naziriteship as an element in multiple lists of ascetical actions reveals that Nazirite asceticism was a commonly performed ascesis among seventh-century East-Syrian monks. This form of asceticism was so
common that Dadisho did not need to describe it anymore than he needed to
describe the ascetical activities of fasting, vigils, self-denial, etc.
Unlike Dadisho, who accepts the face value of the term Nazirite, Isaac of
Nineveh supplies a two-fold description of the ascetical activities performed
by the Nazirite monks. According to Isaac, a Nazirite monk is someone who
engages in fasting and in celibacy. In his Ascetical Homilies, for example, Isaac
calls fasting the crown of the Nazirites.48 Likewise, in a homily intended to
encourage monks to adopt the celibate lifestyle, he reminds his readers that
monks should be celibate if they want to remain in Gods favor. Isaac says that
God rejected Samson, the Nazirite from the womb, because Samson polluted
and defiled his sanctified limbs by intercourse with a harlot.49 Nazirite monks
who want to please God with their ascetical feats should remain celibate,
unlike Samson who broke his Nazirite vow by abandoning his commitment to
sexual purity.
Isaacs most detailed account of Nazirite asceticism, however, reveals that
he characterizes Nazirite asceticism as something more than an ascetic who
46
47
48
49
For further background on Dadishos commentary on Abba Isaiah, see L. Abramowski,

Dadisho Qatraya and his Commentary on the Book of Abbas Isaiah, The Harp 4 (1991)
67-83.
Dadisho supplies multiple lists of bodily labors that include the term Nazirite. See
Dadisho, Commentaire du livre dabba Isae 5,7 (CSCO 326:96:12), 8,35 (CSCO 326:204:18),
14,17 (CSCO 326:225:17), 14,26 (CSCO 326:235:13), 15,25 (CSCO 326:285:14), and 15,29 (CSCO
326:290:8). Page and line numbers refer to Commentaire du livre dAbba Isae (ed.
R. Draguet; CSCO 326, Scriptores Syi 144; Leuven: Peeters, 1972).
Isaac of Nineveh, De Perfectione Religiosa 1,35 (Bedjan:238). Page numbers refer to Mar
Isaacus Ninivita De Perfectione Religiosa (ed. P. Bedjan; Paris: 1908; repr. Piscataway:
Gorgias Press, 2007).
Isaac of Nineveh, De Perfectione Religiosa 1,10 (Bedjan:116).
323
simply engages in fasting and celibacy. According to Isaac, fasting and celibacy
are necessary because they help purify the bodies and souls of the Nazirite
monks, thereby enabling these monks to speak with God and receive divine
revelation. Placing himself and his fellow ascetics within the Old Testament
Nazirite tradition, he says:
We are the sanctified of God and the Nazirites who [abstain] from
women, just like Elijah, Elisha, the prophets, the sanctified Nazirites, and
the holy virgins, by whose hands great and astonishing things were done
and who spoke with God face to face. [And we are also] like those who
came next: John the Virgin, holy Simeon, and the other preachers of the
New [Testament] who sanctified themselves to the Lord and received the
mysteries from Him, some from His mouth and some by revelation. They
became mediators between God and human beings, the receptacles of
His revelations, and the messengers of the Kingdom to the inhabitants of
the earth.50
This mystical interpretation characterizes Nazirite asceticism as having the
priestly function of a mediator. The Nazirite, for Isaac, is a celibate monk who
mediates between God and human beings. The purity derived from the rigor of
fasting and celibacy enables Nazirite monks to speak with God face to face
and once these monks have received direct revelation from God, they are
expected to proclaim this divine revelation to other inhabitants of the earth.
For Isaac, the Nazirite monk is a mystic who understands the divine
mysteries.
In summary, fourth-century Syriac authors, such as Ephrem and Aphrahat,
connected the rigors of Nazirite asceticism to the original paradisiacal life of
Adam in the garden and they specifically drew connections between Nazirite
monks and the descendants of Seth. Although the seventh-century East-Syriac
authors, such as Dadisho and Isaac of Nineveh, do not make the same connections between Nazirite asceticism, the paradisiacal life in the Garden, and
the descendants of Seth, both Dadisho and Isaac nevertheless show that the
term Nazirite had currency as a technical term in the seventh-century. Isaac
of Nineveh, in particular, associates Nazirite asceticism with those monks who
could mystically speak with God face to face on account of their sexual purity
and he describes these monks as mediators of divine revelation for the rest of
the world.
50
Isaac of Nineveh, De Perfectione Religiosa 1,11 (Bedjan:118-19).
324
Scully
In general, we may define Syriac Nazirite ascesticism simply as a phenomenon that referred to ascetics who lived according to a strict ideal of sexual
purity and rigorous fasting. Whereas Ephrem and Aphrahat connected this
sexual purity with the paradisiacal life of the Garden and to the purity of Seth
and his descendants, Isaac of Nineveh connected it with a mystical ability to
act as a mediator of divine revelation.
I propose that the East-Syrian redactor was familiar with the general currency of the term Nazirite among East-Syrian ascetical authors. When he set
for himself the task of redacting the original West-Syriac text of the Cave of
Treasures, he found this text to be a suitable palate for incorporating Nazirite
ascetical ideas. The West-Syriac version of the Cave of Treasures already emphasized the importance of celibacy and priestly ritual and it already connected
these important ascetical activities to the paradisiacal life in the Garden and,
especially, to the sexual purity of Seth and his descendants and to Seths role
as a priestly mediator. Due to these similarities between the West-Syriac version of the Cave of Treasures and the East-Syriac Nazirite ideal, the East-Syriac
redactor interpreted certain passages from the West-Syriac text in light of
Nazirite asceticism and he incorporated Nazirite language into the text. In
other words, the East-Syriac redactor made what he thought was an inexplicit
Nazirite motif explicit.
The East-Syriac redactor incorporated this same technical meaning of
Nazirite asceticism that we saw in Aphrahat, Ephrem, and Isaac of Nineveh
into the Cave of Treasures. In his account of Noah, for example, the East-Syriac
redactor describes Noah as a priest in charge of removing Adams body from
the Cave of Treasures and placing it on the ark, and his subsequent description
of the priest who will minister over Adams body after the flood reveals that he
understands the role of the priesthood in terms of Nazirite purity.51 His version
of the text reads:
And [the Priest] shall be a Nazirite all the days of his life. He shall not take
a wife, he shall not have a house to dwell in, and he shall not offer the
blood of animals or fowl. Rather, he will offer bread and wine to God...He
will be the one who stands in that place in order to minister before God
over the body of our father Adam. He shall wear the skins of animals and
shall remain alone because he is the priest of God most High.52
51
52
For Noahs priestly duty, see CT 16,20 (CSCO 486:124). For the ark as a metaphor for the
Church, see CT 18,3 (CSCO 486:138).
CT 16,24-28 (CSCO 486:124-26).
325
This Nazirite portrait of the Priest, present only in the East-Syriac recension of
the Cave of Treasures, reveals the redactors interest in the Nazirite maintenance of ritual purity and celibacy. This portrait also reveals that the East
Syriac redactor envisioned the Nazirite as the mediator between God and
human beings. It is the Nazirite priest who offers bread and wine to God on
behalf of the other human beings.
The East-Syriac redactor also reveals his interest in Nazirite purity in his
retelling of Methuselahs instructions to Noah about what Noah should do
after Methuselah dies. In this account, the East-Syriac redactor goes out of his
way to show that Noah did not violate the Nazirite vow by touching dead bodies. When I die, Methuselah says, let the women embalm my body...and let
them bury me in the Cave of Treasures.53 The feminine imperative forms of
hnat (to embalm) and qbar (to bury) indicate that Methuselah did not want
the celibate men to handle dead bodies. These forms reflect a change from the
earlier West-Syriac recension, which uses the masculine imperatives for these
same words.54 The East-Syriac recension then continues with the following
instructions for Noah:
Take the body of our father Adam and these three offerings of gold,
myrrh, and frankincense. Let the women [first] set the body of Adam in
the middle of the Ark and then lay these offerings over him. You and your
sons shall occupy the eastern part of the ark, your wife and your sons
wives shall occupy the western part, and the body of Adam and these
offerings shall be in the middle. Your wives shall not pass over to you and
you shall not be with them. You shall neither eat nor drink with them
and you shall have no intercourse with them until you descend from
the Ark.55
Once again the women are supposed to handle Adams body while the men
remain separate from them in a state of sexual abstinence and ritual purity.
The instructions to have the women handle the dead body while the men
remain celibate shows that the author saw the men as Nazirites, who needed
to avoid touching dead bodies in order to maintain their purity.
The later East-Syriac recension, therefore, includes material about various types of priestly and ritual purity that are not found in the earlier WestSyriac recension of the text. Like Aphrahat and Ephrem, the redactor saw a
53
54
55
CT 16,12 (CSCO 486:120).

CT 16,12 (CSCO 486:121).
CT 16,14-17 (CSCO 486:120-22).
326
Scully
close connection between the contemporary Syrian understanding of the

Nazirite and the sexual and priestly purity of Seth already found in the WestSyriac version of the text. Like Dadisho and Isaac of Nineveh, the redactor also
understood that Nazirite asceticism was an accepted form of ascesis and that
allusions to the Nazirite vow would inspire his readers to listen to his admonitions to sexual and ritual purity. The original version of the Cave of Treasures, in
other words, served as a suitable palate for the East-Syrian redactor to paint his
picture of the Nazirite monk, which was gaining popularity in East Syria during
the fourththrough seventh-centuries.
3
Implications for Dating both Recensions of the Cave of Treasures
In the final part of this article, I will argue that the presence of Nazirite elements in the later East-Syriac redaction sheds light on the dating history of the
Cave of Treasures. As mentioned towards the beginning of this article, the two
separate recensions make the dating especially difficult. As a result, there are
currently three different theories as to how the redaction process took place.56
The first theory, and the one with the most currency, was initially proposed by
Albrecht Gtze. According to Gtze, the Western recension was compiled
some time around the middle of the fourth-century and later redacted in the
sixth-century by an East-Syrian author.57 The second theory suggests a slightly
earlier third- or fourth-century date for the original West-Syriac version of the
text. This theory has two proponents who cite different arguments. According
to Andreas Su-Min Ri, the original West-Syriac version of the Cave of Treasures
represents an amalgamation of legends and fables from a time period in
Syriac speaking Christianity prior to the Peshitta and roughly contemporaneous with interfaith discussions during the time of Origen, in the late secondand early third-centuries.58 As such, it came into existence in the form of a
catechesis for primitive Jewish Christians and then underwent a series of later
56
57
58
For a thorough review of the literature on the date of the Cave of Treasures, see
C. Leonhard, Observations on the Date of the Syriac Cave of Treasures, pages 255-93 in
The World of the Aramaeans III (eds. M. Daviau, J. Wevers, and M. Weigl; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press: 2001).
See A. Gtze, Die Schatzhhle, 5-91.
A. S.-M. Ri, La Caverne des Trsors: Problmes danalyse littraire, pages 183-90 in IV
Symposium Syriacum 1984 (eds. H.J.W. Drijvers, et al.; Rome: Pontificium Institutum, 1984)
188-89: Son allure gnrale est celle dun amalgame de lgends et de rcits fabuleux
mls dlments exgtiques et typologiques.
327
redactional phases, which eventually became the East-Syriac version of the

text.59 Similarly, Bellarmino Bagatti and Emmanuele Testa claim that the WestSyriac version of the text was composed in the third-century, but that it developed from traditions about Adams grave in the rock of Golgotha.60 Finally,
Clemens Leonhard has challenged Ris thesis and instead reads the Cave of
Treasures as a coherent work with few redactional layers. As a result, he proposes an initial c omposition date in the fifth or sixth century.61 The East-Syriac
recension, according to Leonhard, is one redactional layer, but it does not contain any major differences from the original version of the text.
Based on my findings in this paper, I propose, instead, the following reconstruction of the dating history of the Cave of Treasures. I agree with Ri in
assigning an early date to the original West-Syriac version. Since Nazirite ideals
began to gain currency in the fourth-century, the earlier West-Syriac recension,
which lacks these specific Nazirite elements, was probably written prior to the
fourth-century. Moreover, it is clear that the work has undergone a significant
redactional process, since the East-Syriac version contains Nazirite themes
not found in the earlier West-Syriac recension. The anonymous East-Syriac
redactor was perhaps already attracted to the emphasis on purity he saw in
59
60
61
See A. S.-M. Ri, La Caverne des Trsors et Mar phrem, 82-83: la Caverne avait exist
sous une forme de Catchse ou de Scolion des palo-chrtiens (ou judo-chrtiens) dans
un milieu de syriens hellniss jusqu lpoque de Mar phrem. Toutefois de nombreux
extraits chronologiques de la Pitta doivent tre considrs comme des insertions tardives. Ri favors the earlier West-Syriac version of the text as the most authentic. Also see
A. S.-M. Ri, La Caverne des Trsors et Mar phrem 71, where he criticizes Gtzes claim
that the typological parallels between Adam and Christ in the writings of Ephrem and
Aphrahat influenced the Cave of Treasures based on his observation that Gtze did not
have access to the West-Syriac witnesses and therefore based his conclusions on the EastSyriac manuscripts. Also see A. S.-M. Ri, Les Prologues de la Caverne des Trsors et la
notion dapocryphe, pages 71-83 in Entrer en matire: Les Prologues (eds. J.-D. Dubois and
B. Roussel; Paris: Cerf, 1998) 150: La Caverne des trsors a t un livre fondamental des
communauts chrtiennes primitives et a circul jusqu ce que lorthodoxie lait remplac par les livres canoniques. Here, Ri argues that the Cave of Treasures existed as a
fundamental book for primitive Christians before the orthodox regulations of the fourthcentury imposed canonical materials.
See B. Bagatti and E. Testa, Il Golgota e la Croce: ricerche storico-archeologiche (Studium
Biblicum Franciscanum 21; Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press, 1978) 27-30, 34-30 and
B. Bagatti, Qualche chiarificazione su la caverne dei tresori, 282-83.
C. Leonhard, Observations on the Date of the Syriac Cave of Treasures, 288: The work
loses its appeal of primordial antiquity and esoteric anticipation of much later concepts,
but it becomes a much more meaningful contribution to the exegetical and religious dialogue of its time.
328
Scully
the original form of the text and decided to use it as the basis for praising the
Nazirite tendencies he admired in the writings of Aphrahat and Ephrem. Since
Aphrahat and Ephrem were the first to associate the Nazirite phenomenon
with Seth and his descendants, the East-Syriac redactor likely composed his
text sometime after the example set by these two fourth-century authors. Like
Dadisho and Isaac of Nineveh, he was probably a monk who lived sometime
during the fifththrough seventh-centuries and wrote at a time when Nazirite
asceticism was esteemed by monks in eastern Syria.
4 Conclusion
Like other Christian writers of antiquity who reshaped the lives of Old
Testament figures into the mold of ascetic heroes, the later version of the Cave
of Treasures reworks the Jewish exaltation of Seth into the mold of the Nazirite
ascetics of fourth-century Syriac literature. Even though the Nazirite phenomenon started as a Jewish movement, it nevertheless took on a distinctive shape
in Syriac Christianity, which in turn, influenced the redactional process of the
Cave of Treasures. Although more work still needs to be done to uncover parallels between the Cave of Treasures and other Syriac ascetical traditions, this
brief survey opens the door to a reconsideration of the composition history
and social milieu of the Cave of Treasures in light of an ascetical background.
Vigiliae
Christianae
brill.com/vc
Book Reviews
Lester Ruth, Carrie Steenwyk & John D. Witvliet
Walking Where Jesus Walked. Worship in Fourth-Century Jerusalem (The Church at

Worship: Cases Studies From Christian History, Grand Rapids/ Cambridge, U.K.:
William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company 2010, XI + 160 pp., ISBN 978-0-80286476-5, US$ 23.00 (pb); Walter D. Ray, Tasting Heaven on Earth. Worship in SixthCentury Constantinople (The Church at Worship: Cases Studies From Christian
History, Grand Rapids/ Cambridge, U.K.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing
Company 2012, XI + 158 pp., ISBN 978-0-8028-6663-9, US$ 28.00 (pb).
It is rather uncommon for Vigiliae Christianae to publish reviews of publications intended for a readership which, apart from specialists in Early
Christianity, includes students working in a variety of complementary theological and non-theological disciplines and even congregational study groups.
There is, however, good reason to make an exception for these two welldocumented and user-friendly volumes containing case studies in the history
of Christian liturgy.
What makes these two publications other from historical studies of worship
is first of all their focus on concrete practices at specific times and places,
namely fourth century Jerusalem and sixth century Constantinople. Moreover,
the liturgical rituals in question are considered from multiple perspectives.
Whereas many liturgical studies focus on texts said by the clergy, the authors
of these volumes are keen on getting an idea of the participation of the entire
community and the multi-sensory dimension of worship. That is why they
explicitly take into account, apart of (prescriptive) orders of service, data about
liturgical space, artifacts and music that may help us to get a more complete
idea of the performance of the celebrations. Thus, the books contain, besides
many texts, maps of both cities in the fourth and sixth centuries and reconstructions of the structures and the furnishings of the Holy Sepulcher complex
in Jerusalem and the Hagia Sophia respectively. As a rule, the texts are well
selected. The volume dealing with Jerusalem includes large excerpts from
Egerias diary, from the so-called Old Armenian lectionary published by
Athanase/Charles Renoux and from sermons of Cyril of Jerusalem (or ascribed
to him), as well as the text of the Liturgy of St. James. In the volume on
Constantinople we find excerpts from the Mystagogy of Maximus Confessor,
from Procopius Description of the Splendor of the Hagia Sophia, from Paul
330
Book Reviews
the Silentiarys Description of the Holy Church as well as a reconstruction of

the Order of the Divine Liturgy of Basil and some Kontakia written by Romanos
Melodos. As a rule, use has been made of carefully selected English translations. The English translation of the excerpts of the Old Armenian lectionary,
however, is new and so this very important text is made accessible to English
readers for the first time. Finally, the reader who wants to delve further into the
subject will find references to older and recent critical editions of primary
sources and to important secondary literature.
The selection of the sources and the way in which they are being presented
and explained will certainly help to make the liturgical practices of the two
cities alive for the reader and the method used may serve as a model for the
scholarly study of early Christian rituals.
Gerard Rouwhorst
Tilburg School of Catholic Theology,

Tilburg University
grouwhorst@gmail.com
book reviews
331
David Vincent Meconi
The One Christ: St. Augustines Theology of Deification, Washington, D.C.: The
Catholic University of America Press 2013, xx + 280 pp., ISBN 978-0-8132-2127-4,
US$ 64.95 (hardback with jacket).
Popular opinion still has it that deification is typical to Eastern theology and
virtually absent in Western theology. The main source to be blamed for this
nonappearance orat leastdeficiency would be Augustine.
Sound research has indicated more than once, however, that the notion of
deification occurs in Augustine, even as an integral element of his theology,
though it is only sparsely specified by the technical term deificare. While this
specific term is only used 18 times, so Meconi, the concept forms a constituent
part of Augustines theological system. In this respect Meconi is in line with
previous scholars such as Capnaga, Ladner and, more recently, Bonner.1 For
Augustine, deification is the same as that implied by the NT doctrine of the
sonship of the believers, i.e. sonship by adoption and not by nature, through
Gods participation in our humanity through Jesus Christ. In other words, deification is the consequence of humanity being assumed by God in Christs
incarnation. In this way, the divine imago in man is reformed, as is the similitudo. All this does not imply any ontological change (the created being remains
a created being, even though deified); also, it is not achieved in this life, but
only after the resurrection.
In the above lines I rather closely follow Gerald Bonner, who in two brief
and fairly identical summaries outlined the topic and indicated the essential
prooftexts.2 Meconi deals with the problem in five rather lengthy chapters, but
in essence he says the same. Perhaps one may remark that he lays somewhat
more stress on the Holy Spirits indwelling (the topic of ch. four) and constantly emphasises the fact that humankinds participation in God is seen
by Augustine as only taking place through Christs humanity (and not
his divinity).
All this sounds fairly theological and, indeed, such is the essential character
of Meconis rather long-winded but lucidly written book. The topic might have
been dealt with in a broader historical context and, also, based upon more
explicit philological analyses of the terms involved. Apart from the studies by
1 See e.g. Victorino Capnaga, La deificacin en la soteriologa agustiniana, Augustinus
Magister 2 (1954) 745-754; G.B. Ladner, The Idea of Reform, Cambridge, Mass. 1959, esp. 185203; G. Bonner, Augustines Conception of Deification, JTS 37 (1986) 369-386.
2 Bonner, Deificare, Augustinus-Lexikon 2, fasc.1/2, 1996, 265-267; Deification, Divinization,
Augustine Through the Ages, Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, UK 1999, 265-266.
332
book reviews
Bonner, all these merits are characteristic of an earlier work on the topic, sc.
the 1952 Leiden doctoral dissertation by J.A.A.A. Stoop entitled Die deificatio
hominis in die sermones en epistulae van Augustinus.3 Meconi is aware of the
existence of this book (87 densely printed pages, plus title page and contents
and curriculum vitae auctoris),4 but at the same time asserts that his own work
is the first book-length study of Augustines theology of deification (xvi).
Scholars able to understand Dutch (or, more precisely, its cognate language
Afrikaans) may still very profitably consult the in-depth 1952 study by the not
only historically and theologically, but also philologically well-trained young
doctor theologiae (by then Stoop was only 26!).
The present book, finely produced by CUAP, contains a number of small
mistakes in French (the first one on p. ix: Oeuvres of Saint Augustine should
read: Oeuvres de saint Augustin), in some German and other names (read
Adolf for Adolph Harnack and Uwe Knorr for Knoor; Goulven for Goulvan
Madec) and, for instance, sometimes in the title of one of Bonners studies (e.g.
in the bibliography on p. 252 read Conception instead of Concept). These are
minor points, of course, and as a rule one may say that the author displays a
sound knowledge of both the primary Latin texts and a considerable number
of Augustinian studies in a whole range of languages. However, he incorrectly
states that Augustine put the words sermo deificus into the mouths of
Manichaeans like Faustus and Felix: both in c. Faust. 32,7 and 32,19 Augustine
is quoting from Faustus own Capitula, while in c. Fel. 1,13 it is, according to the
official acts of the dispute, the Manichaean doctor Felix who is speaking. All
this leads to the interesting question of what, in actual fact, sermo deificus may
have meant for a Latin Manichaean? Did it not have some specific meaning
different from its use in non-Gnostic Christianity? Be that as it may, Meconis
remark after enumerating these and some other appearances of deificus,
namely that [f]rom each of these occurrences we can safely ascertain that a
deified word is a formalized phrase in late antiquity to prove the orthodoxy of
anyone who would grant a canonical writing such godly status (86), does not
make much sense to me. Here one may delve deeper and ask precisely what a
Manichaean may have denoted by such a term. The same might go for the
sources of the Augustinian concept of the totus Christus, which is rightly so
often stressed by Meconi as being pivotal for understanding Augustines notion
of deificatio. Should we not evaluate the fact that this very same concept of
totus Christus, so essential in Augustines theology, was central to Manichaean
3 Printed and published by Drukkerij Luctor et Emergo, Leiden 1952.
4 See pp. xvi and 84 (although on the last mentioned page it is wrongly stated that Jan Stoops
work was a doctoral thesis for the Netherlands University of Groningen).
book reviews
333
theology as well? One may consult, among several other writings, the Coptic
Manichaean Psalter, or a foundational text such as the Greek Cologne Mani
Codex.
Johannes van Oort
University of Pretoria
j.van.oort@planet.nl
334
book reviews
Samuel N.C. Lieu, Lance Eccles, Majella Franzmann, Iain Gardner and
Ken Parry
Medieval Christian and Manichaean Remains from Quanzhou (Zayton) (Corpus
Fontium Manichaeorum, Series Archaeologica et Iconographica 2), Turnhout:
Brepols 2012, X + 283 pp., 125 (hardback).
This new volume in the steadily ongoing CFM-series contains the final reports
and a number of related studies by an Australian research team on the Christian
(both Church of the East and Catholic) and Manichaean remains, mainly from
the Mongol period in Quanzhou and Jinjiang in the Fujian Province of the
Republic of China. To a certain extent the book is a continuation of Lieus
article Nestorians and Manichaeans on the South China Coast, which was first
published in this journal (VC 1980, 71-88), and later republished in a somewhat
revised and expanded version in Lieus Manichaeism in Central Asia and China
(Leiden-Boston-Kln 1998, 177-195). At the centre of this pioneering article
were the Manichaean shrine in Quanzhou as well as Marco Polos report of his
encounter with a Christian sect estimated by him to consist of 700.000 families.
Most scholars agree that this was a secretive group of Manichaeans.
Both Polos story and the still existing Manichaean temple remain important subjects in the present book, while it also contains much more. After his
brief introductory essay on present-day Quanzhou (Zayton/Zaitun) and early
accounts of its Western visitors (the Polos, the Arab travel-writer Ibn Battuta,
and the Franciscan John of Montecorvino, among others), Lieu continues with
a chapter on the Chinese scholar Wu Wenliang (1903-1969) and his pivotal role
in the discovery and conservation of Quanzhous Christian and Manichaean
remains. After that follows Lieus contribution The Church of the East in
Quanzhou, a rather extensive chapter on the (still often, but mistakenly) socalled Nestorians there, being in actual fact an outline of the history of Church
of the East in Sassanian Iran and Central China, its survival in later (mainly
medieval) times under the Song and the Mongols, and its eventual demise. In
an appendix Lieu once again (but here rather lengthily) discusses Marco Polos
account on the Christians of Fugiu (Fuzhou).
The next chapter, by Iain Gardner, competently and clearly deals with The
Franciscan Mission to China and the Catholic Diocese of Zayton (53-60). The
following expos, again by Lieu, is entitled Manichaean Remains in Jinjiang
and focuses on the Manichaean shrine on Huabaio hill in the Jinjiang county.1
1 It is not always clear from the text whether or not the shrine is situated in the prefecture of
Quanzhou. On p. 65 it first runs: Almost all Manichaean remains from the Quanzhou region,
with the noted exception of a Church of the East inscription from Jintoupu which mentions
book reviews
335
This shrine in all probability dates back to the year 1148 and contains, carved
into the granite back wall, a statue of Mani. Here local worshippers still venerate Mani as the Buddha of Light. Some recent sources, however, make mention
of other Manichaean shrines in the same Fujian province and one would have
read Lieus expert opinion also on these locations.2
A major new part of the book starts with chapter 6: Catalogue of Christian
and Manichaean Remains from Zayton (Quanzhou, China).3 The overview is
compiled by Gardner, Lieu and Ken Parry. It consists of two parts (I. Christian
Remains; II. Manichaean Remains) and is based upon an earlier Chinese catalogue of Wu Wenliang (Bejing 1947; revised and expanded by his son Wu
Youxiong, Bejing 2005). All descriptions are accompanied by (full colour or
b/w) photographs, several of them made by the Australian team. This essential
part of the book (pp. 83-128) is followed by two chapters in which the inscriptions on the listed artefacts (and some others!) are translated and commented
on, i.e. ch. 7 Inscriptions in Latin, Chinese, Uighur and Phagspa by Lance
Eccles and Lieu (129-149) and ch. 9 Nestorian Inscriptions in Syro-Turkic from
Quanzhou: (II) Texts and Translations by Majella Franzmann and Lieu (171214). As indicated in its subtitle, the interposed ch. 8 Inscriptions in SyroTurkic from Quanzhou: (I) Epigraphical and Historical Background by Eccles
and Lieu only gives background information.
Ch. 10, The Indian Background: Connections and Comparisons, is composed by Franzmann, Gardner and Parry. It describes the trading relations
between South China and South India, but also deals with, for instance, Manis
links with India and China; the problem of Thomas, the Twin and Mani; the
history of early Christianity in India and, in the end, briefly with Christian artefacts in India and their possible significance for interpreting the Quanzhou
both members of the Church of the East and Manichaeans (v. infra Catalogue B37 = Z44r),
come from the County of Jinjiang and not from the prefecture of Quanzhou. But a few lines
later, in a translated quote from a writing of Paul Pelliot, it is said: The Huabiao Hill of the
County of Jinjiang prefecture of Quanzhou.... What is clear from the several accounts in this
book and elsewhere is that the shrine on Huabiao Hill is ca. 27 km SW from Quanzhou.
2 In a footnote (73 n. 34), Lieu only refers to R. Kauz, Der Mo-ni-gongein zweiter erhaltener manichischer Tempel in Fujian?, in: Ronald E. Emmerick a.o. (eds.), Studia Manichaica.
IV. Internationaler Kongre zum Manichismus, Berlin, 14.-18. Juli 1997, Berlin: Akademie
Verlag 2000, 334-341 and B. Stcker-Parnian, Ein manichischer Fund an der Sdostkste
Chinas, China-Bltter 19 (1991) 211-221. Ralph Kauz (337) makes mention of a number of other
Manichaean temples in the region which sparks questions such as Do they still exist? Are
they still places of (Buddhist) worship?
3 I follow the wording as given in the table of Contents. The actual chapter title on p. 83 runs
Catalogue to the Christian and Manichaean Remains from Zayton (Quanzhou, China).
336
book reviews
remains. This last subject is fully discussed by the eminent specialist Parry in
the subsequent ch. 11: The Art of the Christian Remains at Quanzhou. The last
chapters are a Bibliography (Lieu et al.) and an (unfortunately far from complete) Index (Lieu), respectively.
This pioneering book contains a considerable amount of new material disclosed by an expert team with an astonishing command of languages. In particular Lieus knowledge of a wide range of languages and scripts is impressive,
as may be noted of his skills as an historian by training too. At the same time
one must say that the book sometimes lacks clear structure and includes several repetitions. These minor deficiencies will be caused by the fact that the
volume results from team work, but might have been avoided by more intensive consultation between the authors and, for instance, more cross referencing. Also, a few extra maps would have greatly enhanced its accessibility. This
a fortiori goes for an extensive Index (the inclusion, for instance, of much more
items from the Catalogue and its subsequent discussions in chs. 7 and 9 would
have considerably enhanced its value).
Regarding Lieus discussion of Marco Polos account in the appendix to ch. 3
(pp. 49-52, not 50-53 as stated in the Index), my main question concerns the
passus: nam ipsi [sc. the Christians encountered in Fugiu] habebant libros &
isti dominj Mapheus & marcus legentes in ipsis inceperunt scripturam interpretari & traslatari (sic)4 de uerbo ad uerbum & de lingua in lingua[m] ita
quod inuenerunt esse uerba5 psalterij/ tunc interrogauerunt eos unde legem &
ordinem illum haberent qui respondentes dixerunt. Ab antecesoribus (sic)
nostris habebant.6 The passage is translated as: For they had books, and these
Masters Maffeo and Marco reading in them began to interpret the writing and
to translate from word to word and from tongue to tongue, so that they found
it to be the words of the Psalter. Then they asked them whence they had that
religion and order. And they answered and said: From our ancestors. My
main problem is with the discussion of the word psalterium and the phrase
ab antecesoribus nostris. Although Lieu (and rightly so, in my opinion)
adheres to the view that the Polos stumbled upon a group of Manichaeans, in
his commentary he remarks: However, from the description given by Marco
Polo and the insistence by the members of this secretive sect that they adhered
to teaching from our ancestors and that they had the psalms of David, they
4 This is the (defective) MS reading, and not translatari as stated by Lieu.
5 Not ubera as stated by Lieu.
6 Marcus Paulus Venetus de diversis hominum generibus, et de diuersitatibus Regionum
Mundanarum etc., ed. A.C. Moule, in: A.C. Moule & Paul Pelliot, Marco Polo, The Description
of the World, II, London: George Routledge & Sons Limited and Carter Lane 1938, liv.
book reviews
337
could have been Jews. The Manichaeans certainly possessed psalms; but these
were mainly to Jesus or to Mani or to other Manichaean deities, and could not
easily be misidentified as Davidic (52). However, the text nowhere speaks of
Psalms of David and taking from our ancestors as referring to Jews is an overinterpretion. Moreover, it is by no means necessary to translate psalterium
with the Psalter: the reference seems to be to a collection of psalms in which
the names of Jesus or Christ struck the visitors and made them decide they
stumbled upon a group of Christians (or, in the exact words of the Z
Manuscript, as followed and quoted by Lieu: quod inuenerunt eos xpistania[m]
legem tenere and uos estis xpistiani).7
Another interesting question regarding this episode concerns the identity
of the tres apostoli spoken of in the text, if indeed Manichaeans are involved.
This may, however, be left for another occasion. The above sentences may testify to the fact that we are dealing with an important and intriguing book
resulting from a highly interesting research project. Those who wish to become
involved in the enterprise may do wise to orient themselves by first reading
Lieus clearly written and well-composed article previously published in
this journal.
Johannes van Oort
7 Lieu, 50 and 51; Moule, liv.
338
book reviews
Werner Sundermann (unter Mitarbeit von Desmond Durkin-Meisterernst)
Die Rede der lebendigen Seele. Ein manichischer Hymnenzyklus in mittelpersischer

und soghdischer Sprache (Berliner Turfantexte XXX), Brepols: Turnhout 2012, 230 S.
+ 5 Tafeln, ISBN 978-2-503-54627-8, 70 (pb).
For many years, the Berlin scholar Werner Sundermann (1935-2012) was the
worlds leading specialist in Manichaean studies. His illustrious scholarly
career was, for the main part, devoted to the decipherment and editing of
Manichaean remains once discovered in distant Turfan and now kept in Berlin.
Here he succeeded in editing such important Manichaean texts as Der Sermon
vom Licht-Nous (1992), Der Sermon von der Seele (1997) and, already many years
earlier, Mittelpersische und partische kosmogonische und Parabeltexte der
Manicher (1973) and Mitteliranische manichische Texte kirchengeschichtlichen Inhalts (1981). The last mentioned book was part of the outcome of his
second doctoral dissertation which he devoted to the historiographic traditions of the Manichaeans, the other part being his fundamental Studien zur
kirchengeschichtlichen Literatur der iranischen Manicher, published in three
long articles in Altorientalische Forschungen in 1986 and 1987 respectively.
Sundermanns main specialism was the editing and interpretation of Iranian
Manichaean texts, i.e. texts in Middel Persian, Parthian and Sogdian. His linguistic skills and specializations, however, were by no means confined to these
texts and languages. In particular from the two volumes of Manichaica Iranica.
Ausgewhlte Schriften von Werner Sundermann1 it becomes clear that he was
acquainted with all sorts of Manichaean texts from East and West, and that,
apart from a good knowledge of classical Greek, he had at least some working knowledge of Ancient Iranian, New Persian, Bactrian, Armenian, Syriac,
Arabic, Coptic and, for instance, Old Turkish. From my personal experience,
I may add that he was well versed in Latin and modern languages such as
English, French and Italian as well.
Most of these qualitities are evident in Sundermanns last book, Die Rede der
lebendigen Seele. Already in 1985, in a long and specialized contribution to the
Papers in Honour of Professor Mary Boyce,2 he provided an outline of the possibilities and difficulties in reconstructing the fragments of the hymns cycle.
It is interesting to read already here his tentative remarks on the origin of the
text. In particular, the claim that the work is a text revealed by the Holy Spirit,
1 Edited by Christiane Reck, Dietmar Weber, Claudia Leurini and Antonio Panaino, Roma:
Istituto Italiano per lAfrica e lOriente 2001.
2 Acta Iranica 25, Hommages et Opera Minora, vol. XI, Leiden: E.J. Brill 1985, 629-650.
book reviews
339
bringt diese Schrift in unmittelbarer Zusammenhang mit den kanonischen

Werken Manis (648). We will return to this issue.
Let us first consider the main contents of his final text edition. In an
extensive introduction (9-50, the second chapter of the book after his brief
Vorbemerkungen), the author deals with the title and subject of Die Rede der
lebendigen Seele. As a rule, the title of the hymns cycle is passed down as Gwin
grw zndag, i.e. The Speech of the Living Soul. Sundermann briefly explains
how the World Soul or Living Soul or Self was both a central and a complicated topic in Manichaeism. It was not only at the centre of the Manichaeans
theoretical reflections, but also part and parcel of their piety, cult, and ethics.
In essence the Living Soul is God suffering in this world; it is also the whole of
all human souls now in prison in their human bodies. Moreover, in texts such
as the Hymns to the Living Soul, edited and analyzed by Ernst Waldschmidt
and Wolfgang Lenz in 1926,3 the Living Soul is mentioned as Jesus Christ.4
Significant also is Sundermanns remark that Hans Jakob Polotsky already
noted that the concept of the Living Soul seems to be modelled after the
Pauline (1 Cor. 15:45).5 Other subjects dealt with in the Introduction
relate to the MSS (all Middle Persian fragments that could be detected were
originally part of codices, and the same goes for one of the Sogdian fragments),
their place of discovery (all codex fragments seem to have been found in Qoo
during the first or the second Prussian Turfan expedition) and, for instance,
their age. Sundermann descibes quite extensively how the fragments may be
ordered into 21 text parts, as well as what seems to be the main content of
each section. Other technical matters, such as a detailed description of the
MSS (measure, etc.) complete Sundermanns Einleitung.
Ch. 3 provides the (reconstructed) critical text, first the Middle Persian fragments and after that the Sogdian ones (51-97). From many footnotes in this
specialized chapter (and in the related ch. 5), it becomes clear (i) how many
diffulties had to be overcome (and how many still remain!); (ii) how much
help from colleagues was needed to complete this immensely difficult task
(some of them are already mentioned in the 1985 study; in recent years help
3 E. Waldschmidt, W. Lentz, Die Stellung Jesu im Manichismus, Abhandlungen der
Preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften 4), Berlin: Verlag der Akademie der
Wissenschaften in Kommission bei Walter de Gruyter 1926.
4 Against this background, one understands the North African Manichaean bishop Faustus
speaking of Jesus patibilis. The term is by no meansas it was often stated in the pastan
indication of a christianized North African Manichaeism.
5 Cf. H.J. Polotsky, Manichismus, Paulys Real-Encyclopdie der Classischen Altertumswis
senschaft, Supplementband VI, Stuttgart 1935, col. 251.
340
book reviews
in particular came from specialists such as Nicholas Sims Williams, Christiane

Reck, Desmond Durkin-Meisterernst, and Iris Colditz).
For readers of this journal the most interesting section of the book is, of
course, ch. 4, in which Sundermann offers his compilated text with German
translation (98-159), followed by ch. 5 in which he provides some commentary to this translation (160-176). Unfortunately for the reader only interested
in matters Manichaean, the commentary is of a predominantly linguistic character as well.
What do we learn from the text? Once again it must be remarked that we
have to do here with (more or less reconstructed) fragments. In these fragments we hear a Living Soul, i.e. an awoken human Self speaking:
Denn ich bin die Lebendige Seele
und der edle Sohn des Verehrungswrdigen
euer Verwandter aus der Lebendigen Heimat
und eure eigene Seele und (euer) Leben. Etc. (117)
Throughout the hymn this Living Soul complains about its suffering in the
world and the human body. Its deliverance seems to take place in a cultic setting: several times in the hymn we hear about a meal, a table, the guests at the
meal, a wedding, and a bridegroom. Typically Manichaean doctrines such as
the metaggismos of the soul, Manichaean terms such as first battle, call or
Perfect Man, and favoured Manichaean images such sea, pearl, wanderer
and hostel are encountered. The Manichaean myth is not discussed at length,
but is constantly at the hymns background.
This is by no means the only Manichaean text in which the human Soul,
lost in the world and longing for its deliverance, is speaking. But, as far as I am
aware, there is no other text in which the souls complaint is so central and
appealing. The Speech of the Living Soul is in essence the Complaint of the
Living Soul.
This brings me to two remarks. First, the text reminds of two curious passages in Augustines contra Fortunatum, in which he describes a Manichaean
soul making its complaints about its miserable condition (c. Fort. 17 and 21).
Twice he mentions to his discussion partner, the Manichaean presbyter
Fortunatus, just which complaints the Manichaean soul could utter according
to your faith (secundum fidem uestram). To be sure, Augustine puts forth the
souls bemoanings of itself sarcastically: the soul should utter a whole range
of complaints becausein essenceit is badly treated by God, while the
reconstructed text only speaks of its being mishandled by humans and the evil
forces. Nevertheless, one gets the strong impression that Augustine had some
book reviews
341
knowledge of the (genre of the) hymn in some form or another. In any case, he
proves to be completely aware of the Manichaean figure of speech typical of
this and related hymns, namely the souls personification or prosopopeia. One
may ask what influence this may have had on famous works of his such as the
Soliloquia and the Confessiones.
Another remark relates to the possible author of the hymn. One gets the
impression that Sundermanns long-term efforts were also inspired by the possibility to reconstruct an original work of Mani himself. This would have meant
that, apart of the buhragn, there existed another work of his in Middle
Persian. Reading the present book, one experiences the hesitations of the editor: on the one hand the hymn claims to be inspired by the Holy Spirit (which
is sometimes said of the canonical works of Mani), and on the other hand one
reads in v. 79: Und danach machet Eintritt, so wie es gesagt hat / der Herr, der
Lichtapostel. Sundermann is of the opinion that Mani is meant here, and that
this mention, combined with v. 239 near the end, Vollendet ist die Rede der
Lebendigen Seele / die neuerlich ausging vom Heiligen Geist, seems to indicate
that the work is a composition that goes back to the second generation (perhaps, in view of its high status, to Manis famous disciple Mar Amm). I do not
think this is a watertight analysis. First, the expression neuerlich (recently)
in a work of literature does not seem to prove anything special in this context,
but simply seems to be an indication that the work has been just composed.
More important is the fact that the Apostle of Lightalthough in most cases,
also in Eastern Manichaean texts, indicating Maniby no means in all cases
is Mani himself. Oftentimes the Apostle of Light is Jesus, and one may suppose that it is he who is speaking here (cf. buhragn, ed. MacKenzie, l. 77; cf.
Mt 25:34). All this may mean that the hymn is, indeed, a work of Mani.
Future study of the text may further elucidate its contents. In particular,
some other biblical resonances may be detected (e.g. in vv. 16-18: the patrimony of the father once again reminds of Mt 25:34 and to receive the perfect
good name / den vollendeten guten Namen zu erlangen may be an echo of
Phil. 2). For the present time, one may express ones gratitude for Sundermanns
painstaking reconstruction, which is accompanied by an English translation of the fragments by Desmond Durkin-Meisterernst (177-196), extensive
Wrterverzeichnisse (197-224), a bibliography, and some b/w plates.
Johannes van Oort
342
Book Reviews
ric Rebillard
Christians and Their Many Identities in Late Antiquity. North Africa, 200-450 ce,
Cornell University Press, Ithaca and London 2012; 134 pp.; isbn 978.0.801451423;
us$ 49.95.
Although the book of ric Rebillard (R.) is very concise, it presents the intriguing thesis that in Antiquity socio-religious groups were not as neatly divided
along the lines of clearly recognizable markers of belief, ritual and social practice as is often assumed. Part of R.s arguments have already been presented as
a contribution to Blackwells Companion to Augustine.1 In the work under
review, historical periods in North Africa prior to Augustine are discussed
as well.
R.s theoretical framework depends on modern sociological insights, most
notably those of Rogers Brubaker and Bernard Lahire. They are used to discredit
the apparent tendency among scholars (including those of early Christianity)
to regard sharply differentiated, internally homogeneous social groups as the
prime constituents of social action. Brubaker suggests that the formation of
social groups based on ethnicity is a contingent event that lasts only for a limited time. Ethnicity only becomes a relevant social category in specific contexts and is not that important in everyday life. Lahire has argued that people
have something which may be called an internal plurality, i.e. individuals having alternative identities which are interdependent.
R. puts forward that the combination of these insights is relevant to our
understanding of early Christian identity. He no longer accepts the view that
the behaviour of ancient Christians was predominantly determined by their
religious identity. Early Christians, too, displayed an internal plurality, because
their Christian identity was one out of several and only important in a number of specific social contexts. In order to corroborate his thesis, R. analyses
Christian identity and its markers in three different historical contexts, namely
Carthage at the end of the second century; the persecutions up to Diocletian
(303); and North Africa during the Theodosian age.
In his first chapter, R. discusses late second century Carthage, leaning heavily on the writings of Tertullian. He concludes that in this particular historical period there were few markers that would positively identify someone as a
Christian. Acts such as feeding the martyrs in prison, kissing a fellow Christian,
making the sign of the cross and refusing to offer to the emperors might have
given some indication. Yet, not every Christian displayed these markers and
1 ric Rebillard, Religious sociology in: Mark Vessey (ed.), A Companion to Augustine, Malden
and Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell 2011, 40-53.
Book Reviews
343
public offerings to the emperor were not always required. R. concludes that,
at the end of the second century, there was no separate Christian world in
Carthage.
Although the next chapter discusses several outbursts of persecution, its central argument concentrates on the Decian persecution and the way Christians
reacted to it. With particular reference to Cyprians writings, R. argues that
the majority of the Christians complied while only a minority confessed their
faith. He concludes that, for their identity, most Christians did not deem the
issue of sacrificing to the emperor to be of pivotal importance. Moreover, they
did not address the authorities as a single socio-religious group.
Chapter three is mainly based upon the writings of Augustine. In the
Theodosian age, so R. argues, there also are few external markers for a Christian
identity and even regular Church attendance seems to have been minimal.
Augustine relates that his church was only filled on feast days, but in life-cycle
rituals the church played no significant role. Even at the end of the fourth century there seems to have been no separate Christian world in North Africa. On
the contrary, Christians attended the pagan games or religious rituals when
required by their patron. Although these practices were condemned by the
bishops, Christian laymen seem to have developed some sort of civil identity
which allowed them to take part in these social activities. In secular contexts,
this identity superseded their Christian one.
R. concludes that during the period of 200 to 450 ce, Christians definitely
evidenced multiple social identities. In everyday life, their Christian identity
was not their central identity. R. therefore argues that some old paradigms
should be abandoned. For one thing, the use of the category of so-called semiChristiansChristians who did not fully embrace Christianityshould be
criticized while based on the idea that, for true Christians, their religious
identity was central in all social contexts. The semi-Christians may simply
have displayed different social identities in different social contexts. Even the
dichotomy between pagans and Christians should be re-evaluated, because a
large group of people displayed a religious plurality which makes their classification impossible. The same re-evaluation goes for the dichotomy between
religious and secular contexts.
Intriguing as these conclusions may be, a number of critical remarks are
in order. First of all, the use of modern theories to analyse ancient history
may provide helpful insights, but is also a hazardous undertaking. The historicity of specific contexts complicates a comparison between phenomena in
different times and spaces. Brubaker specifically studied ethnic identity in a
Transylvanian-Romanian town between 1995 and 2001. R. accepts his conclusions without carefully analysing the differences between a religious identity
344
Book Reviews
on the one hand and an ethnic- social one on the other. Moreover, he does not
explicitly take into consideration the different conditions in which these identities played a role in the interaction between social groups. One may doubt
whether Late-Antique North Africa and late twentieth century Romania are
really comparable.
Although Lahires conclusion may indeed be an eye-opener for the study
of ancient social identities, it is in fact not revolutionary. Similar insights have
been put forward by the so-called social identity theory (sit), which was particularly formulated by the sociologists Tajfel and Turner in the 1970s and later
developed by several others. The sit accepts that individuals have multiple
social identities (internal plurality), but argues that sometimes these identities are a powerful force in group behaviour: a social in-group seeks positive
distinctiveness in direct competition with social out-groups. Or, to put it differently: in specific contexts a social group will likely try to distinguish itself
from other, rival social groups. In that situation, the in-group will define an
archetypical identity for its members, while at the same time formulating a
stereotype of the identity of the members of the rival out-group. R. does not
seem to have incorporated these insights into his analysis. This deficiency in
itself does not necessarily render his thesis invalid, but incorporation of sits
insights would have supplied other relevant questions.
For example, R. could have asked which groups Catholic Christians would
have perceived as rival groups. In his book he deliberately bypasses two important rival Christian groups active in North Africa during the fourth century, sc.
the Donatists and the Manichaeans. Although R. is correct in pointing out that
we do not have much information on how Donatist lay people constructed
their Christian identity, the social identity presented by their clergy may have
helped to outline the contexts in which a Catholic Christian identity became
relevant. It was a relevant issue indeed, for North Africa in the age of Augustine
did witness sectarian violence between Christian socio-religious groups.2
Unfortunately, R. leaves out these and other occurrences of religious violence
altogether.
R. argues that, for the historian, Manichaeism remains mainly a body of
doctrines, while the available sources provide no evidence about individuals
who recognized themselves as members of this church. Determining who
is to be considered a Manichaean is, as other scholars have noted on several
occasions, indeed difficult, because they did not seem to have used the term
Manichaean to describe themselves but, instead, presented themselves sim2 See e.g. the recent analysis by Brent D. Shaw, Sacred Violence. African Christians and Sectarian
Hatred in the Age of Augustine, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 2011.
Book Reviews
345
ply as Christians. However, neglecting the Manichaeans altogether is too easy

a way out.
When one takes the Manichaeans into consideration, the acceptance of a
religious pluralism (as R. rightly does) may complicate our understanding of the
subject even further. It might lead us to conclude that it is not only the distinction between pagans and Christians that is less absolute, but also the distinction between Catholics and Manichaeans. Richard Lim has already argued that
the Catholic subdeacon Victorinus, who was accused of being a Manichaean,
was in fact only an open-minded orthodox Nicene Christian, whose curiosity
led him to study gnostic-Christian thoughts.3 Without referring to the sit, Nils
Arne Pedersen recently argued that Manichaean self-designation should be
understood in different contexts. The nomen Manichaeorum might well have
been used publically as a positive autonym in those polemic contexts when
Manichaeans needed to distinguish themselves as Manichaean Christians
from Catholic Christians. Among co-religionists, however, they referred to
themselves mainly as Christians.4 Perhaps categorising Manichaeans apart
from Christians is more difficult than R. supposes.
At the same time, Augustine does often refer to Manichaean behaviour.
In his polemical works and sermons he even ridicules certain Manichaean
moral acts, such as worshipping the moon and the sun and giving alms
only to the Elect. Occasionally his attacks become more personal. A case in
point is, for example, the self-proclaimed poverty of the Manichaean bishop
Faustus of Milevis. Faustus presented his povertya moral obligation for the
Manichaean Electas proof of the truth of his Christian beliefs. Augustine
attacks the bishop by pointing out that his lifestyle is less sober than he tries
to make his audience believe. Indeed, the bishop did not carry any money in
3 Richard Lim, The Nomen Manichaeorum and Its Uses in Antiquity in: Eduard Iricinschi &
Holger M. Zellentin (eds.), Heresy and Identity in Late Antiquity, Tbingen: Mohr Siebeck
2008, 143-167.
4 Referring to Faustus Capitula, Pedersen argues that this Manichaean bishop believed he
belonged to this sharply outlined group in which members felt solidarity with each other
and considered themselves to be a unity, and, furthermore felt a difference in relation to the
outside world. (p. 187) One might ask whether the constant reference to we and you in the
Capitula should not be understood against the backdrop of the polemic nature of the work.
Faustus consciously aimed at clearly distinguishing his socio-religious in-group from the
Catholic out-group. It is uncertain to what extent Manichaean layman would have accepted
this dichotomy in other social contexts. Nils Arne Pedersen, Manichaean Self-Designation in
the Western Tradition in: J. van Oort (ed.), Augustine and Manichaean Christianity. Selected
Papers from the First South African Conference on Augustine of Hippo, University of Pretoria,
24-26 April 2012, Leiden and Boston: Brill 2013, 177-196.
346
Book Reviews
his wallet, but according to Augustine this was because he carried it in chests
and bags. Furthermore, Faustus did not sleep on simple mats, as the rigorous
Manichaean sub-group of the so-called Mattarians did, but chose to sleep in a
(very) comfortable bed (c. Faust. 5.5).
Although the evidence is not extensive, the recent excavations at ancient
Kellis have provided personal Manichaean documents which give us a clue
of how individual Manichaeans expressed their faith and thus strengthened
their socio-religious identity. Although this material has not been excavated
in North Africa, a combined analysis of Roman Egyptian and Roman African
sources on Manichaeism may provide a more nuanced picture.
Christian identity was still developing in North Africa in the latter part of
the fourth century. Religious leaders of the Donatists, the Manichaeans and
the Nicene-Christian Catholics were debating with each other. These debates
were not only related to what the right Christian teaching should be, but also
involved the right Christian praxis. It was a struggle between different socioreligious identities. Yet, the strife between the clergy of those Christian currents should not be necessarily understood as being the same as the combat of
lay people in their everyday life. Only in certain contexts did these identities
become important and only in some essential. Sectarian strife and religious
debates are examples of such contexts, moments at which a persons life and
reputation was at stake. In order to fully understand the social identities of the
different Christian currents, these contexts and the way in which Christians
presented themselves within them, should be thoroughly analysed as well.
R. justifiably discusses the religious identity of early Christians in North
Africa and convincingly argues that someones Christian identity often was
not the primary motive behind his actions. Even during the Theodosian age, a
separate Christian world had not arisen in that Roman province. Yet, R.s work
does not provide an adequate insight into Christian identity in late Antiquity.
Future research should concentrate on the articulation of Christian identities
in those contexts in which socio-religious identities collided.
Gijs Martijn van Gaans
Domein 24, 5046PZ Tilburg,

The Netherlands
gijsmartijnvangaans@gmail.com

Vigiliae Christianae. 2014, Vol. 68 Issue 3 PDF

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Description:

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Vigiliae Christianae. 2014, Vol. 68 Issue 3 PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

vigiliae christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Theological University KampenFree University Amsterdam,

For there exists also a letter, entitled by Barnabas to the Hebrews, by a

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

De paenitentia and De pudicitia

Tertullians opusculum, as he calls it (4.2.), On sexual purity clearly falls in his

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Barnabae titulus ad Hebraeos

Writing on the disciplina apostolorum Tertullian stated that their teaching is

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

13 In De pud. 1.10 Tertullian refers to hic adversus psychicos titulus.

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Tertullian reaches the following conclusion, again describing Barnabas: He

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Transmission of Tertullians titulus

Tertullians testimony was summarized and transmitted by Jerome who noted

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Barnabae epistola in the fourth century

There might be other traces that corroborate the existence of a manuscript

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Second conversion or rebaptism?

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Eusebius and the East

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Eusebius represented a strong tradition in which Pauls authorship of Hebrews

Rome and Hebrews

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Hebrews and Barnabas in Canon Lists

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

letters to his co-workers.52 He knew of those Greek manuscripts which have

Patristic Commentaries on Hebrews

52 Hieronymus, Epistula 54 ad Paulinum (PL 22, 548).

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

(as purged by Cassiodorus).64 Neither Jerome nor Augustine expounded the

Paul and Barnabas, (Acts 14:14)

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

Tertullian on Barnabas Letter to the Hebrews

See Rothschild, Hebrews as Pseudepigraphon, 46-62.

Vigiliae Christianae 68 (2014) 243-263

vigiliae christianae 68 (2014) 264-283

The Prospect of a Christian Interpolation in

koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 4|doi .6/577-47

The Prospect of a Christian Interpolation in Tacitus

is reasonably likely, and therefore that line should be considered suspect.

The Base Rate of Interpolation in Christian-Controlled Literature

Spanning the first three centuries the number of non-Christian references to