1 2 Jewish-Christian Relations The First Centuries Abel Mordechai Bibliowicz January 2023 (Revised Fifth Edition) 3 4 This monograph is a presentation, to the general public, of research first published in Jews and Gentiles in the early Jesus movement by Palgrave, the academic division of Macmillan Publishers (2013). This version is best suited for readers interested in detailed and substantiated discussion and analysis. Expanded introductions, new material, reviews of historical context, content reconfiguration, new chapter structure, and enhanced background segments characterize this expanded, and updated edition. Praise for the academic version of this book+ "I am in fundamental agreement with Bibliowicz's thesis (that the antiJewish polemic in the New Testament reflects debates between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus - not a polemic between Christians and Jews), and with the implications which he has drawn for Christian theology... May this book find a wide readership among people devoted to the cause of the healing of memories between Jews and Christians." —Peter C. Phan, Professor. Chair of Catholic Social Thought, Georgetown University; President of the Catholic Theological Society of America ‘Standing on a brilliant and insightful reconstruction of Paul, and on a quite shocking (but perhaps compelling) reading of Mark—the author offers a number of original and, in some cases, quite compelling theoretical reconstructions of the context and purposes of early Christian texts... a work of sublime moral passion.’ —David P. Gushee, Distinguished University Professor of Christian Ethics and Director, Center for Theology and Public Life, Mercer University. President-elect American Academy of Religion. Author of Kingdom Ethics: Following Jesus in Contemporary Context 5 ‘An intrepid excursion into the Christian discourse... The quest of an intellectual, a humanist... Interesting and, in fact overwhelming... A timely and honest engagement of the Christian texts, authors, and scholars by a Jewish intellectual.’ —Burton L. Mack, – Professor of Early Christianity, Claremont School of Theology, California; author of A Myth of Innocence: Mark and Christian Origins “There is great merit to Bibliowicz's approach... I highly recommend this book for anyone interested in the Jewish-Christian dialogue.... Scholars may disagree with a number of Bibliowicz' conclusions, as I do with his interpretation of the Epistle to the Hebrews. But even in disagreeing, scholars in the field of Jewish-Christian studies, will learn new ways of challenging and thinking about old presumptions." —Eugene J. Fisher, Distinguished Professor of Theology, Saint Leo University. Former staff person for Catholic-Jewish relations for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, Consultor to the Vatican Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews, member of the International Catholic-Jewish Liaison Committee representing the Holy See. ‘An important work... Sensitive and deeply researched... In the deepest sense, a profound theological work.’ —Clark M. Williamson, Professor. Christian Theological Seminary, Indiana; author of Way of Blessing, Way of Life: A Christian Theology 6 ‘I very much appreciated the depth and scope of the scholarship, accompanied by the kind and humble spirit of the author…it may also prove to be one of the formidable and formative scholarly contributions of the decade for both biblical and historical scholars. ‘ —Michael Thompson, Professor. Religious Studies – Oklahoma State University ‘In methodical and precise fashion Bibliowicz takes the reader through the relevant ancient Christian texts bearing on the question at hand. In so doing, he proposes an intriguing, compelling thesis. The book should prove to be a major voice in the ongoing debate.’ —Brooks Schramm, Professor of Biblical Studies, Lutheran Theological Seminary ‘Impressive work... With this impassioned study available to us, it will no longer be possible for us to ignore the unintended ways the unthinkable came to be and still say ‘we did not know.’’ —Didier Pollefeyt, Professor. Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven Belgium; coauthor of AntiJudaism and the Fourth Gospel and Paul and Judaism ‘An original and plausible claim that goes beyond most of modern scholarship... a solid contribution to the study of anti-Judaism in early Christianity.’ —Joseph B. Tyson, Professor. Religious Studies, Southern Methodist University; author of Marcion and Luke-Acts: A Defining Struggle 7 ‘Well-researched and thorough. Intelligent and thoughtful... accessible, the argumentation compelling.’ —Michele Murray, Professor. Bishop’s University, Canada; author of Playing a Jewish Game: Gentile Christian Judaizing in the First and Second Centuries C.E. ‘A detailed and insightful exploration of the writings of the early Jesus movement... argues convincingly that the origins of Christian anti-Judaism are to be found among early non-Jewish followers of Jesus who were in conflict with Jesus’s disciples and first followers... a must read.’ —Tim Hegedus, Professor of New Testament, Waterloo Lutheran Seminary, Wilfrid Laurier University, Canada ‘Bibliowicz uses solid scholarship to engage large and difficult topics while managing to be balanced and clear... invites Christians to walk a deep journey toward truth... and suggests a compelling nuance that the conflicts in the early texts were between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus, not between Jews and Christians.’ —David L. Coppola, Executive Director, Center for Christian-Jewish Understanding, Sacred Heart University 8 ‘A meticulous study... a mammoth endeavor... goes beyond others in his interpretation of the evidence, tracing and documenting distinctions and tensions in the early Jesus movement.’ —N. A. Beck, Professor of Theology and Classical Languages, Texas Lutheran University. ‘The topics Bibliowicz engages are complex. Although some of his interpretations are controversial... Gentile Christians should set aside apologetical agendas and honestly ponder the challenges put forward by the author.’ —Dale C. Allison, Jr. Professor of New Testament, Princeton Theological Seminary; author of Constructing Jesus: History, Memory, and Imagination 9 10 *Reading this book To academic readers I suggest: Personal Introduction 15; Preview – The Thesis 19; Mark 103; Evolution of the anti-Jewish strand 305; Teaching Highlights 371. To introductory readers who encounter the academic study of these topics for the first time, I suggest an introductory reading of subchapters identified with + after the title. At the end of each reading segment, a marker [+> pg...] indicates where the introductory reading continues. 11 ABEL MORDECHAI BIBLIOWICZ Copyright © Abel Mordechai Bibliowicz, 2016 TXu001740415 - All rights reserved. 2016 by Mascarat Publishing ASIN: B0B4K3GPBH Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Bibliowicz, Abel Mordechai. 1. Bible. N.T.—Criticism, interpretation, etc. 2. Judaism (Christian theology)—Biblical teaching. 3. Church history—Primitive and early church, ca. 30-600. 4. Christianity and other religions—Judaism. 5. Judaism—Relations—Christianity. 6. Judaism—History— Post-exilic period 12 To Ronnie Gideon, Yonatan, and Michal Pablo, Samia, and Shiri 13 14 15 *Contents *Endorsements 5 *Reading this book 11 *Personal Introduction 17 *Preview – The Thesis 21 *The Protagonists 29 *Timeline 35 *Acknowledgments 37 B – Jewish-Gentile Relations in the Jesus movement 01 *The Historical Background 39 02 *The first years 595 *Paul 63 *The New Testament and Qumran 87 *The James enigma 93 *A Growing Tension 117 *Summary 125 03 *Crisis in the Jesus movement 123 *Mark 131 *Matthew 143 *Luke/Acts 155 *John 165 *Revelation 189 *Summary 195 16 04 *Supersession Theology 205 *Introduction 205 *Hebrews 209 *Barnabas 237 *Summary 251 05 *The Post-canonical era 267 06 *Theology gone awry 305 07 *Polemic in the New Testament 329 08 *Scholarship 343 C– Summaries and Afterthoughts 09 *Recapitulation 367 10 *The post Constantine era 405 11 *The responsibility for Jesus' death 419 12 *Consequences 435 13 *The Present and the future 449 ➢ *Teaching Highlights 473 ➢ *Bibliographies of important topics 475 ➢ *Citations 485 17 *Personal Introduction+ ‘So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, ‘I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.’ And all the people answered, ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’ (Matt. 27:24–25).1 The need to understand Christian attitudes toward Judaism has been with me for many years. After searching in various directions, I stopped at the gates of Christian scripture. Without any foreknowledge or expectations, I started reading the New Testament. The anti-Jewish bias of the texts surprised me. I did not return to the New Testament for many years. Some 20 years ago, I started re-reading the New Testament. I also began studying, on my own, The New Testament, Christian history, and Christian theology. Throughout these years, I have been deeply touched and influenced by the encounter with Christian scholars and theologians. I have benefited from their guidance and counsel, which was given with open hearts and open minds. During these years, I have learned that the New Testament is a complex corpus that includes unique theological statements, extraordinary spiritual insights, edifying stories and parables, and different and differing perspectives on the ministry of Jesus. In the New Testament, I also encountered troubling and conflicting messages about the attitudes of early Gentile believers in Jesus toward Judaism and toward the Jewish people. I have learned that pro-Jewish2 and anti-Jewish strands have cohabited in the traditions of believers in Jesus from the earliest years, and have since wrestled for their minds, hearts, and souls. In addition to the polemical strand that I encountered throughout the lore, I also encountered expressions, traces, and echoes of positive views toward Jews and Judaism. 18 For individual believers, Christianity is a religion of faith, love, grace, salvation, and redemption. Most of today’s believers in Jesus have no antiJewish or anti-Semitic inclinations. Most are unaware of the deep and pervasive presence of polemical attitudes in their theology, culture, and lore. ‘Most Christians are unaware of the role that Christians have played in the oppression of the Jewish people.’3 Furthermore, many of today’s believers acknowledge Jews to be God’s people and have but the warmest attitudes toward them. For most, whose life in Christ is one of loving kindness and mercy, awakening to the anti-Jewish bent that permeates the canonical and authoritative lore is a troubling and disconcerting experience.4 The presence of a polemical bias in the religious tradition that gave the world the inspiring and sublime writings of Perpetua of Carthage, Francis of Assisi, Hildegard of Bingen, Bonaventure, Meister Eckhardt, Catherine de Siena, Thomas a’ Kempis, John of the Cross, Teresa de Avila, and Teilhard de Chardin - is disconcerting. The abyss between the wholesomeness and the authenticity of individual belief, and sixteen hundred years of anti-Jewish teachings is hard to reconcile. For Jews, studying the canonical and the authoritative Christian literature is a gut-wrenching and unsettling encounter with a strange universe in which we, and our religious traditions, are denigrated, vilified, and ridiculed in a myriad of ways. When revisiting the New Testament and the authoritative texts, we need to be aware of the cultural, religious, and emotional filters through which we approach the text.5 To transpose oneself to the time and place of the New Testament writers, and to capture the circumstances and the issues that the scribes, the editors, and the compilers of the texts were trying to address, one needs to divest sixteen hundred years of traditional interpretations and dogmas. To read the canonical texts as a first-century inhabitant of the Roman Empire would, we also need to divest deeply held beliefs, values, and sensibilities. These preconditions are necessary to capture the events as they unfolded, without the formidable impact of centuries of retroactive editing and dogmatic indoctrination. Moreover, the destruction of the textual traditions of differing believers in Jesus, the complexities of the texts, the intricacy of the circumstances, the fog of history, active obstruction by the guardians of orthodoxy and the emotional and cultural shields that protect religious dogma - conspire to make this quest difficult. 19 The focus of this work is limited to a survey of the attitudes of early Gentile believers in Jesus toward Jews and toward Judaism. This emphasis should not obscure the fact that Jewish-Gentile relations within the Jesus movement were but one facet of a protracted multilateral crisis that lasted at least four centuries, and that followers of Jesus with varying degrees of Jewish, Pagan, and Gnostic affinities, affiliations, and inclinations were all drawn into this theological whirlwind. Moreover, the enormous corpus of New Testament scholarship is not fully surveyed here. Theological, Christological, and creedal elements are only marginally addressed. Many derivative topics are addressed and discussed only as they impact the subject at hand. My presentation of these complex topics is not exhaustive; they are explored only to the extent needed to develop the main themes of the monograph. Readers not acquainted with the vastness of New Testament scholarship should be aware that most issues touched upon here have been interpreted and understood in different and differing ways by qualified scholars and theologians, which I am not. I invite Christian readers to attempt to read this book from a Jewish perspective, to explore the New Testament and the authoritative texts anew. I present my work with great trepidation, with an apprehension born out of the tension between my affinity with religious belief (that permeates and informs my life-long interest in the religions experience and its mystical manifestations) and my quest to decipher the origins and evolution of the polemical strand that we encounter in the New Testament cannon. The task of re-reading the New Testament in a new light requires substantial effort. The evidence and the clues that sustain my conclusions emerge gradually and slowly throughout the monograph. I hope that readers will find this rendition of my journey edifying. Despite many unanswered questions the ongoing quest has been rewarding, the conclusions surprising. This work is not a religious statement, nor is it a statement about religion. Moreover, the sensitive and emotionally charged nature of the subject at hand may cause some readers to shut-off to the presentation and to precategorize this book, or portions of it, in unintended ways. Some may find the journey emotionally difficult. The reader should continuously keep in his 20 or her mind that this is not a critique of the faith and beliefs of believers in Jesus, nor is it about their vast, rich, and empowering religious heritage. I was summoned to this task by dark and painful memories deeply etched in the Jewish consciousness, and by ever-present storms that cloud the Jewish horizon. In this quest, I have been nurtured by the deep and powerful wells of the Jewish collective past. Throughout this journey, I found myself surprised again and again by intense emotions, triggered by this experience, and reflected in an emotional under-pitch that I do not identify in my rational self. Twenty years after the beginning of this journey, the texts can still overwhelm me. The images of their unintended consequences still haunt me. Paradoxically, as I read and re-read the canonical and authoritative texts, I detected a gradual change in their impact on me: to my surprise, the more I immersed myself in the material, the more I became desensitized to the antiJewish content. It seems that with time, one becomes accustomed to heavy dosages of rhetoric; it becomes an almost nonexistent background noise. Over-exposure to verbal violence leads to numbness to it. Any attempt at channeling the chaos, the diversity, and the uncertainty of the first centuries of belief in Jesus into a structured narrative will fail to fully encompass the underlying complexity. Furthermore, the enigmas, the dissonances, and the inconsistencies that we encounter in the texts before us - require a harmonizing narrative that must go beyond the evidence. Therefore, it was necessary to sketch on this canvass a picture that cannot be fully substantiated. However, and significantly, none of the traditional or modern models that attempt to decipher the Jewish-Christian saga does exhaust the textual evidence either. Nonetheless, when analyzed in light of the suggested thesis and the socio-theological trajectory that emerges from it, many discrepancies and difficulties, many mystifying puzzles and previously disconnected phenomena yield new meanings and interpretations. Whether the proposed thesis, which builds on the work of many scholars and theologians, is deemed to better fit the evidence and better reflect the evolution of belief in Jesus is a judgment that readers are invited to cast. Critique, commentaires, and dialogue are welcome jchrelationsfirstcenturies@gmail.com 21 *Preview – The Thesis+ This study suggests that that Jewish-Christian relations stand on a complex trajectory that originates in a Jewish-Gentile crisis within the Jesus movement, between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus (not between Christians and Jews). This crisis erupted onto the surface following the Jewish War of 70 C.E. but originated in earlier tensions within the Jesus movement. The thesis explores the context, background and intent of the authors of the Gospels and later texts. These texts, written after Paul´s ministry, do not describe, for the most part, the historical reality of the birth and first decades of belief in Jesus; they were crafted to promote theological and sectarian agendas relevant to later audiences. It also suggests that Jewish-Christian Relations emerge out of later misperceptions about this conflict among followers of Jesus with varying degrees of Jewish, Pagan, and Gnostic affinities, affiliations, and inclinations. It further suggests that Christian anti-Judaism originates in a later loss of this context and in the projection, onto Judaism, of the polemic that accompanied the debates about what traditions and beliefs should ground belief in Jesus, and the drive of the Gentile followers of Jesus to be recognized as the legitimate and authoritative custodians of Jesus´ legacy. Initially, the crisis was (mostly) a debate about Torah observance by Gentile converts and had four main protagonists. The growing non-Torah observance camp: Some of the Jewish followers of Jesus seem to have been supportive of a non-Torah observant mission to the Gentiles. The majority of Gentiles seem to have opposed to the imposition of Torah observance on Gentiles. The declining pro-Torah observance camp: Most of the Jewish followers of Jesus seem to have expected that followers of Jesus be Torah observant. A minority of Gentiles were, in various degrees and manners, sympathizers with the Jewish followers of Jesus (and therefore attracted to Jewish beliefs and traditions). 22 The existence of tensions between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus is clearly attested to in the New Testament texts and has been widely noted and elaborated upon by scholars. The thesis differs in the suggestion that this Jewish-Gentile crisis is the engine, the originating crucible, behind the polemical strand in the N T and behind the Gentile challenge to the authority and legitimacy of the Jewish followers of Jesus as the exclusive guardians of Jesus’ legacy – and its momentous consequences. The thesis attempts to track the evolution of belief in Jesus as a phenomenon centered within the Jesus movement. The internal debate within the Jesus movement about Torah observance by Gentiles, eventually and gradually turned into an emotionally charged Jewish-Gentile crisis. The belief systems we identify retrospectively as Judaism, Christianity, Gnosticism, and Paganism were not participants in this struggle. The New Testament texts do not reflect a Jewish-Christian crisis, but rather a parting of the ways between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus – as seen from a (mostly) Gentile perspective. Initially, the crisis was about opposition to the imposition of Torah observance on Gentiles (with Jews and Gentiles on both sides of the debate). As the Jesus movement became increasingly Gentile, the axis of the crises shifted: Gentile and anti-Torah became increasingly synonymous, and the original Torah vs anti-Torah focus was replaced by a Jewish vs Gentile one. The thesis places this crisis center stage as the engine in a process that lasted several centuries whereby early Gentile believers gradually transitioned from yearning for fellowship with the Jewish followers of Jesus, to militant antiJudaism. The progression, from failed fellowship to militant anti-Judaism, took place in different communities at different paces. The thesis advocates that the loss of this original context, and later intra-Gentile agendas and circumstances, eventually resulted in the projection onto Judaism of the polemic that accompanied these early debates about what traditions and beliefs should ground belief in Jesus. The texts that were eventually canonized were written during the embryonic stages of belief in Jesus, a period of tensions between believers with pro- and anti-Jewish inclinations and affiliations. This tragic coincidence embedded a footprint of anti-Jewish sentiment in the canonical lore of the victorious 23 faction and in the hearts and minds of believers. The fact that the crisis in the Jesus movement lasted at least four centuries, and that the Judeo-Gentile dimension is only one dimension of this crucible, is obscured since most of the texts reflecting the anti-Pagan, and anti-Gnostic biases of the Pauline faction were authored after the canonical era and are not included in the New Testament – creating an artificial focus on the Judeo-Gentile dimension of the crisis. When the canonical or authoritative texts of the first centuries denigrate the beliefs and traditions of Gnostics and Pagans, they reflect an internal conflict with opponents advocating Gnostic or Pagan affinities, not a conflict with Paganism or Gnosticism. Therefore, the antiJewish, anti-Pagan, and anti-Gnostic biases of the canonical and authoritative texts are the result of complex and layered trajectories, and should be understood to reflect, for the most part, debates within the Jesus movement—not struggles with external religious communities. The traditional account of the birth of belief in Jesus has been internalized by clergy, scholars and believers and is deeply embedded in hearts and minds. For more than fifteen hundred years the juxtaposition “Christianity versus Judaism” has been at the core of the Christian religion, culture and lore. The leap from this deeply embedded narrative to an “Intramuros” perspective centered on a crisis within the Jesus movement, requires considerable conceptual change and a new terminology. The terms commonly used in academic studies of early Christianity reflect the lingering influence of orthodoxy over the discourse -leading to confusion and a truncated dialogue. To fit better the context of the first three centuries and to clarify it, the thesis uses the terms belief in Jesus, and Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus for the first three centuries of the common era. The future of Judeo-Christian relations and the future of the Christian selfperception depend on which meta-narrative on the Christian origins and on Jewish-Christian relations will be eventually embraced, taught and internalized by Christian institutions and believers. Each of the metanarratives or models that attempt characterize the socio-theological background of the first centuries of belief in Jesus; the traditional thesis, the competition thesis of Simon, and the thesis suggested in this monograph (the intramuros thesis), have implications of great importance and scope for the future of both religions. 24 Thematic Background It is noteworthy, that throughout this survey, we will rely almost exclusively on texts preserved by the Christian tradition (despite great efforts by many scholars, the search for the Jewish side of these debates has yielded dismal results). Moreover, scholars have noted an enormous disproportion in intensity and quantity—to the point of rendering insignificant, the few segments that have been identified as possible Jewish responses.6 The absence of a commensurate Jewish response, if Judaism understood itself to be the intended adversary, is difficult to explain. However, if the original crisis was within the Jesus movement, as suggested here, we should not expect a significant Jewish response (at the time, debates within the Jesus movement would be unknown, inconsequential, and irrelevant to those outside the Jesus camp). Furthermore, the literature of the losing side is seldom preserved. Our survey of the canonical texts will start with Paul who is, without doubt, the foremost theologian and leading figure of the New Testament. The Pauline letters that are accepted as authentic by most scholars (Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon) are the earliest integral New Testament documents available to us. Paul introduced to the Roman world monotheism, the concept of scripture as the basis for religion, and history as evolving towards a divinely ordained end (teleology).7 He also pioneered the rich and fruitful universe of personal belief. Paul was the first theologian to acquaint Western minds with the emotional and intellectual universe that moderns call ‘individual consciousness and belief.’ Paul’s emphasis on belief was revolutionary. The notion that what each individual believed was the arena where the drama of salvation unfolded must have been exhilarating in a society where individual freedom, regardless of class, was very limited. Paul’s proclamation of a universal faith, and the insight that individual belief not only mattered but was ‘the’ essence of human existence (and the only measure for salvation) must have been an empowering message. Access to all through a simple declaration of faith made Paul’s strand of belief in Jesus popular among Pagan spiritual seekers. The excitement that this encounter caused among spiritual seekers in the Roman world is palpable in the extant texts. 25 However, soon after the first successes of Paul’s mission to the Gentiles, tensions arose as Gentile converts to Paul’s form of belief in Jesus encountered Jewish followers of Jesus in the public arena. Some, maybe most, of Jesus’s disciples and first followers seem to have conditioned fellowship on Torah observance and may have considered Gentile forms of belief in Jesus insufficient and lacking – setting the stage for a confrontation. Indeed, the canonical tradition seems to shadow the embryonic stages of the clash that ensued; a Gentile challenge to the authority and to the legitimacy of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the exclusive guardians and interpreters of Jesus’s legacy, and the rejection of their core beliefs and traditions.8 According to Paul, the standing of Gentiles before God was to be based solely on their faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection. The doctrine of justification by faith alone (not through Torah observance) was originally elaborated by Paul with the specific and limited purpose of defending the rights of Gentile converts to be full and rightful heirs of the promises of God to Israel. Paul defended jealously his position against any compromise that required from Gentiles, circumcision or observance of the Torah (Law). Paul's immediate successors, and maybe some of his contemporaries, used his epistles to discredit Jesus' Jewish followers (who for the most part seem to have demanded that Gentile followers of Jesus obey the Torah). Subsequently, in an effort to legitimize their rejection of the Torah and to challenge the leadership of the movement, Pauline believers developed a polemical arsenal whose original aim was to discredit the Jewish followers of Jesus and their demands on Gentile converts. During the last decades of the first century we encounter Gentile believers whose contention vis- à -vis the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers (‘they,’ ‘the Jews’) seems to have been as follows: Don’t let anyone cast any doubt on your legitimacy as followers of Jesus. They claim to be the rightful 26 guardians of Jesus legacy, but they are not. They exalt Jesus but misunderstand the true meaning of his ministry. They never understood. We are the rightful heirs of Jesus’s legacy. Their ancestors, the disciples and Jesus’ first followers, betrayed and abandoned him in his moment of need. Jesus’s death and resurrection void any value that their traditions might have had. To them, he is a human. To us he is the divine savior. They claim to follow his path, but it is we who seek martyrdom for his sake. They claim to be righteous, but according to their scriptures and their prophets they are sinful and irredeemable. Their scriptures tell us that the Jews forfeited the covenant and God’s favor. They are no longer God’s chosen. We believe in Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s promises to all. They claim that our belief is inadequate and lacking, and that we must keep all their traditions, but Jesus’ actions signal that The Law is no longer necessary. Jesus came to bring salvation to all, not only to the Jews. Their Torah and their customs no longer have any value. The response of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and their Gentile sympathizers seems to have been: To be rightful followers of Jesus you need to embrace his ministry and his faith. Jesus, his disciples and his early followers were Jews. To be a true follower of Jesus you must live like him, and worship like him. You follow Paul who was not a disciple and did not know Jesus. The Jerusalem leaders did not embrace Paul’s views. We do not accept Paul’s claims that Jesus revealed to him what he did not reveal to his disciples. 27 Pauline communities experiencing anxiety and doubt caused by this crisis, needed reassurance and guidance. They needed a legitimating foundational discourse, a dissonance-reducing narrative. In the New Testament, we can identify attempts by Pauline leaders to reassure the Gentile rank and file that they were rightful followers of Jesus despite their rejection of the beliefs and religious traditions espoused by Jesus and by those chosen by him to be the custodians of his legacy. Facing an uphill, vitriolic, and rancorous struggle for legitimacy against Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement and standing on a stillevolving theology and a chaotic constituency - Pauline leaders and intellectuals seem to have gravitated toward a strategy built on the belittling of the disciples and on the denigration of their beliefs and traditions. They also opted for the subversion and the appropriation of elements, themes, and motifs quarried from their adversaries’ traditions and texts. Pauline leaders and intellectuals crafted their narratives from within this context of estrangement and vitriol vis-à-vis the Jewish followers of Jesus, a reality that shaped and deeply influenced their accounts of the birth of belief in Jesus. Ironically. the lore of the Jewish founders of the Jesus movement turned out to be a trove of anti-establishment polemical arrows that Gentile believers could use to denigrate the Jewish establishment of the movement. In the anti-Jewish-establishment traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus and other Judean sectarians, Pauline leaders found a ‘ready to deploy’ arsenal that could be used to demote the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement. By interpreting the Hebrew Scriptures and the Jewish traditions of prophetic exhortation and self-criticism out of their historical context, and by appropriating the founders’ identity (The New Israel, The People of God) and their anti-Jewish-establishment lore - Pauline leaders and intellectuals eventually crafted a strategy that was, in the long run, successful in deJudaizing belief in Jesus. Significantly, despite the eventual hegemonic status of the Paulines, that followed the fourth century council of Nicaea, the epic battle about Gentile attitudes toward Judaism, Paganism and Gnosticism did not subside altogether, and did re-surface under various guises during the next centuries. 28 The tensions between believers with Jewish, Pagan, and Gnostic affiliations and inclinations were never fully harmonized and remained latent at the core of the tradition. The footprints that these tensions left in the lore were never extricated either. Consequently, future Gentile believers in Jesus were to internalize deeply ambivalent attitudes toward Judaism, Paganism, and Gnosticism. Over time, the context of the gentile-Jewish crisis within the Jesus movement was lost and the original purpose of this rhetoric (to discredit adversaries demanding the observance of the Torah) gradually lost its relevance. However, the rhetorical and theological edifice that Paulines developed against the faith, traditions, and beliefs espoused by Jesus and against the character of the original leaders of the movement, was canonized and became a core element of Christian theology, self-perception, and narrative. Gradually, the Church found itself debasing Judaism as a means to discredit gentile sympathizers of the Jewish followers of Jesus, and to eradicate Judaizing tendencies among the folk. Given this trajectory and the Pauline rejection of Jesus’ beliefs, the Church found it necessary and beneficial to obscure the Jewish origins of Christianity and its implications which remained veiled from the rank and file, until the twentieth century.9 Until the twentieth century, the polemical bent of the lore of early Gentile believers in Jesus was understood, by most scholars and believers, to be the consequence of the Jewish rejection of Jesus, their responsibility for Jesus’ death, and the Jewish loss of God’s favor. By and large, Judaism was seen as a legalistic and morally inferior tradition that had forfeited its place as YHWH’s chosen. However, during the second half of the twentieth century, aided by the fortuitous findings at Qumran and Nag Hammadi, new paradigms emerged as New Testament scholarship yielded new insights and perspectives. At the dawn of the twenty-first century, mainstream scholarship and most believers have turned away from traditional views on Jews and Judaism. The view that a proselytizing struggle between turn of the era Judaism and early Christianity may have been the main generator of antiJewish attitudes among early Gentile believers in Jesus seems to be espoused by many (the competitive thesis).10 Scholars who embrace this model often describe anti-Judaism as the consequence of excessive militancy by the more 29 aggressive and vigorous proselytizer; the result of hyper-competitiveness gone awry.11 A variant of this competitive thesis, or model, sees the attraction of some turn-of-the-era Gentiles to Judaism as the main generator of anti-Jewish sentiment among early Gentile believers. Under this construct, attraction to Judaism infuriated Gentile leaders and intellectuals and fueled the polemical fervor that is embryonic in the canonical lore and permeates the authoritative texts thereafter. We now know that prior to the fourth century, there were believers who advocated differing views about what belief in Jesus was or should be. The re-discovery of the diversity of the early Jesus movement requires the retroactive legitimating of all interpretations of Jesus’ ministry. Therefore, we need internalize the fact that all these believers understood themselves to be the only ‘true’ Christians and viewed their adversaries’ beliefs as heretical, misguided, or inadequate. The implications of this early diversity and of the re-placement of the origins of the Jewish-Christian saga within the Jesus movement, are the main themes of this monograph. Finally, it is important to reemphasize that this monograph focuses on one of the three polemical fronts that impacted and shaped the Pauline narrative and self-perception: the Jewish-Gentile crisis within the Jesus movement. The debates and the polemic with believers with Pagan and Gnostic affiliations and inclinations are addressed only as they impact the main protagonists of this monograph; the Jewish followers of Jesus and the followers of Paul (mostly Gentiles). Furthermore, whereas the Jewish-Gentile crisis originates in processes that took place during the second half of the first century, and therefore is central in the New Testament. Although the second century crisis with believers with Pagan and Gnostic affiliations and inclinations also originate in processes that are grounded in, and emerge out of, first century debates - they had little impact on the 30 content of the New Testament due to the fact that, during the first century, these tensions were embryonic and not yet centerstage. Given that belief in Jesus arose out of an internal struggle among believers with differing ethnic and cultural backgrounds, and dissonant inclinations and affiliations - many otherwise mystifying puzzles, and previously elusive phenomena emerge from the fog and can be studied in light of their original socio-theological context. This research highlights those texts in the canonical and authoritative textual tradition that seem to contain corroborating traces, indications or confirmations of the thesis. This monograph explores possible manifestations of the thesis in the texts surveyed. We will scout the texts and attempt to identify the possible fossils and traces of these processes. As we read the texts included in this monograph through the lens of the thesis, some will strongly corroborate it - others marginally so. 31 *The Protagonists+ The first centuries of belief in Jesus were characterized by great uncertainty, chaos, and unstable ground12 Groups of like-minded individuals coalesced into proto-factions and then into factions. The degree of doctrinal cohesion of these groups is unknown. The situation ‘on the ground’ was, most probably, characterized by great fluidity, variety, and instability. As attested by the texts surveyed in this monograph, confusion and chaos were rampant. It appears that local variants and improvisation were the rule. It seems that, from the mid first century onwards, belief in Jesus was very much a local affair with some degree of coordination among like-minded communities on a regional basis. During the first century, the tensions between the Jewish followers of Jesus and the Gentile followers of Paul are centerstage. During the second century, Gnostics and Marcionites become part of the crisis that engulfs the Jesus movement, creating the crucible that will yield a theological compromise (the Via Media). Five groups eventually emerge as the protagonists of the centuries-long crisis in the Jesus movement: the Jewish followers of Jesus, the Pauline faction, Marcionite believers in Jesus, Gnostic believers in Jesus, and Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction. This classification is useful and necessary even though the affiliation, and the affinities, of individuals and communities within these groups were not always clear or unequivocal to the participants. These groupings reflect posterior attempts to enable analysis of an era characterized by chaos and low visibility. The Jewish followers of Jesus13—Jesus’s disciples and first followers were Jesus’s chosen successors and the original guardians and interpreters of his legacy. Their beliefs, customs, and traditions were grounded in first-century Judaism. These messianic Jews seem to have venerated Jesus as an exalted human (did not proclaim the divinity of Jesus). Most seem to have rejected the many Gentile forms of belief in Jesus that emerged following the success 32 of the Missions to the Gentiles. Alternative identifiers for the Jewish followers of Jesus: Jewish faction, founding fathers, descendants of the Jewish founders, founding faction, Jerusalem faction. The Pauline faction— After Paul’s death, his followers appear to have split into multiple strands. A couple of generations later, two main factions emerged: Marcionite and Pauline. The better-known Pauline authors and texts are Mark, Luke/Acts, Hebrews, Ignatius, Justin, Polycarp, Tertullian, Irenaeus, and Eusebius There is substantial dissonance between Paul´s views as expressed in his authentic letters (Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon) and his followers´ views - and significant theological variance within the Paulines. The traditional interpretation of Paul’s theological legacy was shaped by the views and mindsets of these leaders and thinkers. This is the theological chain that carries and develops the Pauline-Lukan outlook to its maturity as postConstantine Christianity. The Paulines claimed that Gentiles superseded (replaced) the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the ‘New Israel,’ as ‘God’s chosen’ and as the guardians of Jesus’s legacy. They struggled to define and articulate a theological compromise. Often identified by scholars as Christian, Paulines, or proto-orthodox, they came to dominate belief in Jesus. Paulines emphasized belief in Jesus’s death and resurrection and strove for a complex midway positioning[i]—a cluster of themes associated with the faction. These authors saw themselves as the true interpreters of Paul’s legacy.[ii]Ignatius´ emphasis on unity and hierarchy added to the foundations provided by Paul and by the author of Luke/Acts. Paul’s legacy as understood by his theological descendants - i.e., the texts authored in the generations after Paul - is centerstage in my work. The views of the historical Paul are not. I use the terms ¨Pauline, Lukan and protoorthodox¨ to discuss the views of Paul´s followers (NOT to discuss Paul´s views). Marcionite believers in Jesus—called for the rejection of the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Marcion’s Jesus was a new and unprecedented figure who revealed a previously unknown deity of love and mercy. He viewed the God of the ‘Old Testament’ as an inferior deity, lacking in wisdom and justice. Marcionites considered themselves to be the true interpreters of Paul’s legacy, in opposition to the Pauline faction. 33 Marcion made the earliest and most radical attempt to sever the link between Gentile believers in Jesus and the founding faction. Contrary to the orthodox complex and ambivalent reject-but-appropriate approach to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers, Marcion advocated a complete and radical rejection of the Jewish legacy and affiliation of the Jesus movement,14 and strived for a thorough de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus. Although Marcion is a second century figure, the root of these inclinations predates Marcion and may have been part of the milieu that impacted early belief in Jesus. Some scholars contend that there was significant overlap between the Marcionite and Gnostics groups in terms of possible typological categorizations but their separation is useful due to their distinct views, trajectories and impact. Gnostic believers in Jesus15 —Gnosticism, a controversial term, is a later designation for a variety of spiritual trends that flourished during the first centuries of the Common Era (Hermetica, Valentians, Mandaeans, Manichaeans etc.,). The usefulness and the relevance of the term have been criticized. However, an alternative term has not emerged.16 Although clear Gnostic inclinations surface among Gentile believers during the second century, proto-Gnosticism predates that emergence and seems to have been part of the first Jewish century milieu that impacted early belief in Jesus. In many Gnostic systems, the world is the creation of a lesser and evil God (the Jewish God). Despair and pessimism are pronounced and permanent. The world is evil and there is no hope for change. Salvation from this world is through secret knowledge taught by a divine savior (Jesus) and understood only by few, the elect. The various Gnostic schools evolved from the teachings of Ptolomey, Cerinthus, Valentius, and Basilides.17 Gnostic believers in Jesus are a phenomenon of second century belief in Jesus that is grounded in, and emerges out of, earlier foundations. Paul´s undermining of the importance of Torah observance by Gentiles ignited a debate among Gentile believers that culminated in Marcion, who concluded that the Jewish Bible was no longer relevant and in the Gnostics who concluded that the Jewish Bible is relevant, but not quite accurate and the god it honors is not the true God. Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction—Often called Gentile Judaizers, these were Gentiles with varying affinities to the descendants of 34 Jesus’s disciples and first followers. Some converted to Judaism. Most seem to have embraced some of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers of the movement. Commitment, affinity, and affiliation with the Jewish faction varied greatly. These ‘Gentile Judaizers’ drew some of the most vitriolic fire from Gentile leaders and literati who were incensed by their attraction to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. The implications of the emerging consensus about the diversity of early belief in Jesus will surface throughout the following chapters. However, as we are about to enter this journey, it is important to anticipate and emphasize one overriding implication of this proposition. Namely, that during the first five centuries of belief in Jesus, there were ‘Christians’ whose beliefs and traditions from Jewish, Marcionite, Pauline or Gnostic roots. Furthermore, although all believers pledged allegiance to Jesus, they held radically different beliefs, practices, traditions, affiliations, and attitudes making a confrontation about authority, legitimacy, and ascendancy inevitable. Each of these communities of believers in Jesus saw themselves as the only true and legitimate followers of Jesus and considered differing believers as illegitimate and heretic. The sacred texts that were eventually embraced as canonical (The New Testament) reflect the ascendancy of the Pauline faction and the hegemony of its dogma over the narrative. Thus, for almost two thousand years, the strand of belief in Jesus that emerged ascendant (the Gentile followers of Jesus) is the only version of belief in Jesus that Christian believers have known. 35 *Timeline+ BCE 1900–1700 The Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) BCE 1200–1000 The Judges BCE 1000–922 Davidic monarchy (‘J’ writer of Pentateuch) BCE 850–720 Elijah, Jezebel, and Ahab, Amos, Hosea BCE 850–720 Assyrian conquest of Northern Kingdom (Israel) BCE 718–688 Hezekiah BCE 700 First Isaiah BCE 640–609 Josiah (Deuteronomic reform) BCE 625–595 Jeremiah BCE 597 First deportation (Babylon) BCE 587 Nebuchadnezzar conquers Jerusalem BCE 587–538 Ezekiel and Second Isaiah BCE 465–424 Ezra and Nehemiah BCE 63 Romans conquer Judea BCE 4? Jesus’s birth CE 26–36 Pilate in Judea CE 30? Jesus’s crucifixion CE 42? Paul’s mission begins CE 37–41 Emperor Caligula CE 54–68 Emperor Nero CE 50–60 Paul’s Epistles (New Testament) CE 65–70 Gospel of Mark (New Testament) CE 70 Destruction of the Jerusalem Temple CE 69–79 Emperor Vespasian 36 CE 80–90? Matthew, Luke/Acts (New Testament) CE 81–96 Emperor Domitian CE 95–105? John, The Book of Revelation (New Testament) CE 80–135 The Epistle of Barnabas CE 95? 1 Clement of Rome (Church Fathers) CE 70–100 The Didache (Church Fathers) CE 80–117 Ignatius of Antioch (Church Fathers) CE 98–117 Emperor Trajan CE 100–160 Justin the Martyr CE 100–170 Marcion CE 110–130? Gospels of Peter and Thomas (Gnostic gospel) CE 110–140? The Shepherd of Hermes and Papias (Church Fathers) CE 130–200 Irenaeus (The first ‘New Testament’ canon) CE 132–135 Second Jewish revolt (Bar Kochba)—Jerusalem destroyed CE 190 Melito of Sardis CE 260–340 Eusebius CE 300–375 Athanasius CE 303–312 The ‘Great Persecution’ CE 306–337 Emperor Constantine CE 325 Council of Nicaea CE 379–395 Theodosius Emperor (the Empire is Christianized) 37 *Acknowledgments Scholars and lifelong students of the Jewish-Christian saga who read, commented, and criticized drafts of this monograph: Reverend Dr. Phillip W. Tolliday, and Professors D. Fiensy and W. B. Tatum who supported and encouraged, despite a rather crude first draft. Professor N. Beck whose wise guidance helped me navigate difficult waters and whose encouragement and empathy made this journey a unique experience. Professor C. Williamson whose support and kind words are deeply appreciated. Professors A. R. Culpepper, D. P. Efroymson, Burton L. Mack, and M. Murray who reviewed drafts of the monograph and contributed insightful commentary and prepublication reviews. Professors D. Allison, P. Cunningham, J. Pawlikowski, J. T. Townsend, and J. Tyson who made helpful suggestions and observations. Special acknowledgment and gratitude are due to the scholars who submitted prepublication endorsements. Zali Gurevitch, whose warm and early encouragement played an important role in my persevering. Friends who read the early drafts and contributed comments and much appreciated encouragement: Hanna Bibliowicz, Jeremy Evnine, Robert Hoffman, Emanuel Jolish, Henry Kadoch, and Henya Shanun-Klein, the guardian angel of this monograph. Finally, Ronnie, our children (Gideon, Yonatan, and Michal), and their spouses (Shiri, Samia, and Pablo) who were supportive throughout, read, and made valuable observations. The views presented in this book are the sole responsibility of the author. The readers’ support was a gracious gift, not an endorsement of the writer’s views or conclusions. Cover images: Fifth century mosaic in the interior of the basilica of Santa Sabina (Rome) on the Aventine over the entrance to the nave. Mosaic celebrating the establishment of the church 420-430 CE. One right side (smiling and welcoming) represents the Ecclesia ex Gentibus (Church of the Gentiles—The Gentile followers of Jesus), on the left side (stern and unwelcoming) represents the Ecclesia ex circumcisione (Church of the Circumcised—The Jewish followers of Jesus). Image courtesy of Art History Images (www.art-history-images.com). 38 39 Chapter 1 *The Historical Background Historical background The Romans and the Jews The Romans and Gentile Believers Historical background+ Mesopotamia and Egypt are the birthplaces of the great civilizations of the ancient Middle East. The epic struggle between the Egyptians and the Mesopotamians was fought, mostly, in the territory of the buffer peoples: the territories west of the Jordan river and south of the Anatolian peninsula. Judea was a small tribal kingdom occupying the hill country between the sea plains and the Jordan River, in the no-where-land between these two formidable civilizations. After c. 1200 BCE, following the Late Bronze Age collapse, the Israelites became significant temporary players in the area’s struggles for ascendancy. The Israelite myth of exclusivity and covenant with YHWH18 seems to have contributed to a Judean sense of purpose and destiny that forged them into impressive fighters. This myth may have been instrumental in making this small tribal kingdom into an occasional significant regional player. 40 King David’s military and political success was due, in no small measure, to his forging of a tribal coalition between Judea and the other Israelite tribes. His son Solomon, the wisest of all kings (according to the Davidic dynastic accounts) was a poor politician who alienated his partners in the tribal coalition he inherited from his father. Solomon also alienated the religious establishment by building altars to foreign Gods (2 Kings 23:4-14) and alienated the Northern tribes by fortifying the southern border of the kingdom and neglecting the northern frontier. Upon Salomon’s death, the Davidic coalition unraveled, and most non-Judeans seceded and established the northern kingdom of Israel. The northern kingdom was conquered and subdued by the Assyrians in 722 BCE. Judea fell to the Babylonians on 587 BCE. The consequences of the fall of Judah were momentous: 19 “This political situation raised religious questions: Why did God allow the Jews to be subjugated by Gentiles? Why didn’t God protect his people? Why do the Gentiles but not the Jews deserve temporal power? … How should the Jews relate to the state? Should they support it, oppose it, or adopt a neutral stance? Should their support or opposition be active or passive? The answer was provided by Jeremiah. This prophet had warned the inhabitants of Jerusalem that their rebellion against the king of Babylonia was also a rebellion against God. The prophet counseled surrender. Nebuchadnezzar was performing God’s will in his assault on the holy city, and the Jews were foolish to believe that they could flout God’s will. The Jews were condemned to failure due to the fact of their sins; Nebuchadnezzar was merely God’s agent for their punishment (Jer. 25). In this conception, Jeremiah transferred to his own day the prophetic interpretation of the fall of Samaria enunciated by Isaiah generations before (Isa. 10). But Jeremiah also added a different interpretation, a new conception not articulated by previous prophets. The fall of Jerusalem and the triumph of Babylonia are the consequence not of sin and punishment but of immutable fate. God, who controls the destiny of nations and empires, has for undisclosed reasons decided that Babylon shall rise, and that Judea and other states shall fall (Jer. 27:2-8). The dominion granted the Babylonians was only 41 temporary; after a predetermined amount of time, whether the three generations of Jeremiah 27 or the ‘seventy years’ of Jeremiah 25:12 and 29:10, the Babylonian empire will fall and/or the Jews will return from exile in triumph and glory… How much of this was enunciated by Jeremiah during the dark days of the 590s and 580s BCE, and how much was added by later disciples and editors, is not easy to determine, but, whatever their origin, these ideas had an enormous impact on subsequent Jewish thought and practice…The prophecies of Jeremiah also provide the ideological context for the political behavior of the Jews in antiquity (and, indeed, of medieval and modern times as well). When Cyrus the Great of Persia conquered Babylonia in 539 BCE and issued his edict permitting the Jews to return home and rebuild their temple (Ezra 1:1-4), many Jews chose to remain... Of all the nations exiled from their lands by the Assyrians and the Babylonians, only the Jews returned to their homeland to rebuild their ancestral temple. For these Jews, the redemption promised by Jeremiah was to consist of repatriation and the renewal of the temple cult; perhaps many of them also hoped for a restoration of the kingship and political independence, but they were to be disappointed.” 20 Following the fall of Babylonia, the Judeans became Persian vassals until the conquest of the area by Alexander of Macedonia. Judeans regained their independence under the Hasmonean dynasty (143-63 BCE). In 63 BCE Pompey led the Roman armies that conquered Judea. During the early years of the Roman conquest (63 BCE-66 CE) Judea was governed by local rulers subservient to Rome or by direct Roman Rule. First century Judeans yearned for a Messiah, a descendant of King David, who would bring about deliverance from foreign oppression. Using modern terminology, we may describe this as a nationalistic yearning, not a religious one.21 However, the Roman-appointed religious establishment of Judea, aware of Roman might (and subservient to it) opposed any attempt to challenge the Roman occupation and to incite messianic fervor. Several groups may be identified as active in Judea at the dawn of the first century:22 42 Pharisees – Contrary to their portrayal in the New Testament,23 the Pharisees (Hebrew: Prushim) were committed to high religious and ethical standards.24 They opposed the Roman occupation but did not actively promote subversive activities. Theologically, the Pharisees advocated reliance on oral traditions to interpret the Hebrew Scriptures. The Pharisees, the socio-theological descendants of the Hasidim of the Maccabean era, are at the epicenter of the rhetoric and invective of the New Testament but are minor and secondary figures in Jewish history, literature and lore. We find that ‘in the whole of Talmudic literature not a single sage is designated as a Pharisee, and the word appears only in some isolated usages.’25 Sadducees - The Sadducees (Hebrew: Zadokim)26 were the party associated with the Judean religious aristocracy. According to tradition, they were entitled to the office of the High Priest. Their collaboration with the Romans earned them the animosity of the people. Theologically, they were strict literalists. They were considered theological and social conservatives.27 Some modern scholars distinguish between Sadducees who acquiesced with the foreign occupation and Zadokites (who opposed the ruling priestly families appointed by foreign occupiers). Apocalyptics - Groups and individuals associated with eschatological (end of times) and apocalyptic (revelatory) imagery or inclinations28 i.e., John the Baptist, Jesus, Qumran, Daniel, 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, 1 Enoch and The Apocalypse of Abraham.29 Most scholars identify the community that produced the Dead Sea Scrolls at Qumran as the Essenes mentioned by Flavius Josephus.30A growing minority advocates the deposed Jerusalem priesthood as the community behind the Dead Sea Scrolls. Apocalyptics believed that an imminent ‘end of times’ was near and would bring deliverance from the current age of evil. Some of these groups developed dualistic and alienated views of reality. Subversive militants - Zealots, Sicarii, and uncompromising nationalists (called by Josephus Flavious ‘The Fourth Philosophy’). Groups that fought to expel the Roman occupation and were instrumental in igniting two major, costly, and failed revolutions (70 & 135 CE).31 These groups considered 43 paying tribute to a foreign ruler a major sin. This category may include fringe elements of the previous groups who advocated armed resistance. The people – The vast majority of the inhabitants of first century Judea (the ‘silent majority’) did not belong to the groups enumerated above. Most were rural peasants with mundane concerns, conservative beliefs, and traditionalist inclinations and lifestyles. Given the scarcity of reliable sources, the characteristics and demographics of these groups, their respective theologies, relative influence and interrelationships, are the subject of inconclusive debates. We are advised against drawing far-reaching conclusions from the conflicting and incomplete evidence we possess.32 It seems that the Pharisees and the Sadducees are best characterized as educated elites.33 Apocalyptics were, mostly, religious enthusiasts who had a variety of religious predispositions and inclinations – and were not a socio-political group. They may have recruited most of their members among the poor and the marginalized, and among religious charismatics and enthusiasts. Whether first century Judaism should be seen as mostly homogeneous, or mostly diverse, remains a controversial issue. Whereas most Christian scholars seem to favor diversity34 and division, most Jewish scholars tend to emphasize cohesion and continuity. Politics and the Hebrew Scriptures - The Hebrew Scriptures provide us a window into the Israelite mythical past going back 4500-4000 years. In the Torah35 we can trace the evolution of the Judean understanding of creation and of the divine realm. We can detect a trajectory from archaic mythical anthropomorphism (Genesis), to YHWH as a henotheistic warrior God (Judges, Kings) and lastly to the monotheistic God of the later prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah). Jahwism36 and monotheism were gradual and hard-fought processes. The Torah (Pentateuch- the first five books of the Hebrew Bible) is a complex and layered corpus that seems to preserve the footprints of various schools, and many authors, compilers, and editors. The Torah underwent several editing and doctrinal reconfigurations. Updated forms of the Documentary Hypothesis (DH) are currently the dominant academic theory for the evolutionary path of the Torah. 44 This hypothesis, in its many variants, is the result of centuries of increasingly secular readings of the Bible (Hobbes, Spinoza, Eichhorn, Graf, Wellhausen, F.M. Cross, R.E. Friedman, B. Halpern, Baden and others). According to most of the variants of the Documentary Hypothesis,37 The Pentateuch (Torah) contains four (J, E, D, P) sources and one redactor. The J source seems to be the legitimating saga of the House of David. E, D and P appear to originate in contending priestly groups vying for religious ascendancy. E, the Elohist, seems to originate in the northern kingdom of Israel. D contains most of Deuteronomy. Most agree that P, the Priestly Law, is a late and post exilic addition. While the hypothesis has been criticized and challenged, it continues to be the main framework for academic discussions on the composite nature and origins of the Torah (Pentateuch). Thus, the Pentateuch38 is the depository of layered and intertwined accounts of the early annals of the Israelite people, and of the legitimating lore of the Davidic Dynasty. The Priestly Law (the P source of DH) seems to reflect the victory of the Aaronid priestly clan (claimed Moses’ brother Aaron as their ancestor) in the power struggle over religious ascendancy in post-exile Judea. With the return from the Babylonian exile (approximately 538 BCE) the Judean religion undergoes a transformation under priestly control. The Pentateuch was, most probably, given its final editorial and textual form under Ezra, an Aaronid priest. The Priestly Law reflects three phenomena: the end of the monarchy, the end of prophesy, and the reversal of the rise of the Mushite priests from Shilo (descendants from Moses) to preeminence during the last decades preceding the exile (Josiah’s reign onward). The Aaronids returned to power under the Persian patronage bestowed upon Ezra. From Ezra onward, the Davidic dynasty and the Mushite priests of Shilo (the priestly group associated with Samuel, Abiathar and the prophet Jeremiah) the probable originators of the Deuteronomist components of the Pentateuch mysteriously and unceremoniously disappear from Jewish history. In terms of dynastic politics, whereas the Aaronids rose to preeminence during the reign of Hezekiah, the Mushites enjoyed the patronage of Josiah. In terms of regional politics, we can infer the probable pro-Babylonian inclinations of the Mushites (Jeremiah’s advice not to confront the Babylonians) and the 45 probable anti-Babylonian stance of the Aaronids. The Aaronids, exiled (with most of the aristocracy) to Babylon, were back in favor when the Persians overthrew the Babylonian Empire, and the Persian king looked for allies to govern the provinces. Second temple Judaism (538 BCE – 70 ce) was, by the standards of the era, tolerant of deviant belief. Many sects flourished. Persecution of sectarians was rare. Striving for Torah39 observance was not a vehicle for salvation; it was a lifestyle conducive to living in accordance with the ancestral covenant with YHWH. Torah observance was conducive to God’s favor in this world, not to salvation in the afterlife. This period is considered by most Jewish scholars as the crucible of the emergence of the priestly mindset of Second Temple Judaism. Monotheism, intolerance and religious polemic – Polytheistic cultures were, for the most part, tolerant of diversity. The concept that ‘many paths lead to the divine’ resonates in the polytheistic mind but has no full parallel in monotheism. Monotheism tends to breed exclusivity. Exclusivity breeds intolerance. Monotheistic religions are prone to intolerance and are often harnessed to legitimate established political power. The increase in intolerance that seems to be associated with monotheism and the atrocities that have been committed in the name of ‘God’ by followers of monotheistic faiths are sobering. Christianity and Islam, the two universal and worldwide contenders that embrace Ethical Monotheism,40 had from early-on worldwide claims and goals and did become persecutory. In Judaism, all righteous people enjoy good standing before God, regardless of origin or belief (the Noachide laws -Genesis 9: 1-6). This early universalistic stand and Judaism’s early henotheism may have contributed to its milder militancy and its weaker proselytizing zeal.41 Minority status, a tradition of self-criticism and Torah observance may have also contributed to weaker persecutory impulses. Among today’s religions, only Islam was from its inception fully and unequivocally monotheistic. A close reading of the Hebrew Scriptures reveals that First Temple Judaism was henotheistic (worship of one God no denial of the existence of other Gods - Exodus 20:4-5). The Hebrew Scriptures, and the archeological evidence, support an evolutionary view of the Jewish understanding of the divine. Polytheistic vestiges and residues in 46 the Hebrew Scriptures seem to favor an earlier period of polytheistic and henotheistic co-existence. The Jewish sacred scriptures are cultural depositories that contain both; sublime ethical articulations, and accounts of past religious and political struggles. They also include rhetoric directed at the nation’s enemies. Indeed, the Torah contains passages that are disturbing to modern sensibilities and ethics.42 N. Beck’s presentation of this type of polemic in the Hebrew Scriptures:43 ‘In the Hebrew Scriptures polemic includes subtle degradation of Babylonian and Egyptian celestial and terrestrial deities (the greater light, the lesser light, the stars, and the sea monsters) in the Priestly creation account, Gen. l: l-2:4a, followed by admonitions in Deut. 4:19 and Zeph. 6:5 against worship of the sun, the moon, the stars, all the hosts of heaven, and material things that the Lord God has provided. The Tower of Babel account in Gen. 11 is apparently in part polemic against Mesopotamian city cultures with their gateway-to-heaven towers at the summits of their ziggurats. AntiEgyptian polemic is inherent in Israel’s basic confession of faith that Adonai delivered Israel from Egyptian bondage. Polemic against the nearer neighbors of the Israelites, the Canaanites, and against their cultic practices is much more common. Canaan is personified and cursed; a slave of slaves shall he be to his brothers because of his sexual perversions (Gen. 9:20-27). The serpent, a phallic symbol within the Canaanite fertility cults, is the agent for the seduction of Eve (Gen. 3). In the Jahwistic creation account there may be skillfully subtle polemic against fertility cult practices of intercourse with animals when it is recorded that among all the cattle, the birds of the air, and the beasts of the field there was not found a helper fit for the man; instead, the Lord God made from a rib of the man a woman and brought her to the man to be a helper fit for him (Gen. 2:18-25). There was a time when the use of household gods had been customary among the ancestors of the Israelites, in the Jacob story in Gen. 31 the use of such objects was put down when Rachel was said to have stolen her father’s household deities, placed them in the camel’s saddle in her tent, and sat upon them. She refused to get up while her father searched the tent for them, claiming that she was in the midst of her menstrual cycle, thus 47 covering them with her uncleanness. Within the Shechemite Dodecalogue, in the Decalogue in Exod. 20 and Deut 5, and elsewhere, there are the wellknown prohibitions against making graven images in the form of any figure, male or female, of any beast, bird, reptile, or fish. Beyond this there are vitriolic denunciations of the various Baal cults and their worship practices. To cite only one example, in Deut. 12:1-3, 29-31, it is commanded that the places where the people whom the Israelites would dispossess had served their gods upon the high mountains and the hills and under every green tree must all be destroyed. The Canaanite altars must be torn down, their pillars dashed into pieces, and their Asherim burned. The graven images of their gods must be cut down and the name of their holy ones destroyed. It is said that these antecedents of the Israelites have done every abominable thing, even burning their own sons and daughters in the fire of their gods. These instances of polemic are indications that the Israelite cult developed alongside of, to some extent out of, and in opposition to the local fertility and weather deities whose worship was widespread in agricultural Canaan. Certainly, the political conquest of the land was no easy task, as the records in Judges and 1 Samuel indicate, and the religious conquest of the agricultural deities was an equally long and frustrating struggle. As a result of the extensive military achievements of David and the establishment of the empire, large numbers of non-Israelites were brought into the nation and into the royal court. Elijah, a few generations later, is said to have felt that he alone remained as one who would speak for Adonai; he had to be reassured that Adonai would leave seven thousand in Israel who had not bowed to Baal and kissed him (1 Kings 19). In Hos. 2:2-13 we read that although it was Adonai who gave Israel its grain, wine, oil, silver, and gold, these precious gifts were all - too frequently offered as oblations to the Baals. During Josiah’s reform, vessels made for Baal, for Asherah, and for all the hosts of heaven were brought out of the temple of Adonai and burned outside Jerusalem. The priests were deposed whom the kings of Judah had ordained to burn incense to Baal, to the sun and the moon, the constellations, and all the hosts of the heavens, and Josiah is commended for defiling the high places that Solomon had built for Ashtoreth, Chemosh, and Mil-corn (2 Kings 23:4-14). The polemic against the making of idols and against the cult of idols continues in Isa. 40:19-20; 41:6-7; 42:17; 44:9-20; 48 45:16-17, 20b; 46:5-8; 48:22; Ps. 97:7; and many other places, most graphically in the Bel and the Dragon additions to Daniel.’ Fortunately, the consequences of these ancient inflammatory remarks are now buried in the archives of our lore and did not have a significant impact on Jewish hearts and minds. These archaic vestiges do not disturb us due to the fact that most of the peoples and nations involved are long gone, the issues at center stage have changed, and Judaism did not develop a sustained persecutory bent. Confusion arises when we do not differentiate between core theological statements, and tribal and military exhortations that are often adversarial, confrontational, and derogatory toward other tribes and nations. Non-Israelites and the Torah – King Ur-Namma (21st century BCE) and King Hammurabi (18th century BCE) compiled the earliest Law codes and the first known attempts to recruit the divine realm to edify and control the king’s subjects. These are the oldest extant efforts to inculcate good behavior through the agency of religion. The biblical Noachide code (Genesis 9:1-6) stands on Hammurabi’s law and reflects the core theological stand of Judaism toward non-Jews. According to biblical Judaism, nonIsraelites can be ‘right in the eyes of God’ by being righteous. Maimonides, probably the foremost Jewish philosopher of the early Middle Ages, did state unequivocally that everyone who accepts the Noachide commandments and observes them carefully is one of the righteous of the nations of the world, and has a share in the world to come.44 In Judaism, there is no requirement or expectation that Gentiles become Jews or keep Jewish customs. Torah observance is a duty that derives from the covenant between God and the Israelites. According to the Judean tribal myth, God promised protection and favor in return for keeping his commands. Right behavior was paramount to Israelites and was considered a necessary precursor and enabler of ethics. Right belief, in the later Christian sense, was not a central tenet of first century Judaism. Thus, an individual’s place in God’s plan was a consequence a person’s being a member of the group, an Israelite in good standing.45 It may be said that there is no quest for individual salvation in the Jewish literature of the first centuries of the Common Era. First century 49 Judaism did not focus on salvation of the soul. It did emphasize serving God by complying with his commands.46 The monarchic era (1000 – 587 BCE) - Judea was a warrior kingdom ruled by the Davidic dynasty. King David (circa 1000 BCE) founder of the longest lasting Israelite dynasty was a Judean. The tribe of Judah was the largest and most influential of the twelve Israelite tribes. The mindset of the Judean monarchic period was heroic, mythical and sensual. The Pentateuch contains the legitimating myth of this dynasty. The Biblical author(s) cast King David in a mythological mold. David is the beloved of ‘God.’ There is no King who ‘God’ loves more; there is no one more exalted. David’s narrative is the longest for any Judean King. In fact, it is the longest for any biblical figure. However, the court scribe who was commissioned to write a foundational account of the dynasty may have been too forceful in his zeal to please his employers: he did cast ‘God’ as extending a promise of eternal rule to the Davidic dynasty, a promise that was not kept. Nonetheless, God’s promise to David (II Samuel 7 and Psalm 89) may be one of the most successful Acts of political self-promotion in history. It did legitimize, and thus facilitate, 400 years of Davidic rule over Judea, one of the longest dynasties humanity has known. The Davidic myth became deeply embedded in the Judean cultural fabric.47Two Davidic descendants did, apparently, return from the Babylonian exile. The text is silent as to the fate of these last Davidic scions; they vanish without trace or explanation. ‘God’s’ promise is not kept, and the Davidic dynasty leaves history silently and unceremoniously by the backdoor, to be replaced by priestly rule. The priestly era (587 BCE – 70 CE) - The Persian King appointed Ezra, an Aaronid priest, to lead the second attempt to revitalize Judea following the failure of the Davidic scions to do so. Ezra was the pivotal figure in the transition from the monarchic era to the priestly domination of the nation that lasted until the failed revolution of 70 CE. Under Ezra’s stewardship the authoritative scriptures were apparently edited and rendered ‘priestly friendly.’ Most variants of the Documentary Hypothesis attribute the final editing of the Pentateuch, including the insertion of the priestly code, to Ezra and/or his followers. The goal was to solidify the religious power of his priestly clan, the Aaronids, who emerged victorious after centuries of infighting with the Mushite priestly clan from Shiloh. Priestly scribes made 50 certain that scripture instructed the nation that most kings ‘did bad on the eyes of the Lord,’ and stifled any attempt to criticize priestly rule. Whereas the return from exile is traditionally understood as the birth of Judaism, it was in fact a shift from a monarchic to a priestly mindset. For many, this shift marks the transformation of the Israelites into ‘Jews.’48 Following Ezra’s editing, the Deuteronomy Law Code does legitimize the Aaronid agenda. Since time immemorial political and religious elites seem to have had the ‘inside track’ on ‘God’s’ wishes. It is not surprising, therefore, that the groups who controlled the nation left their footprints in the lore and are the ones who benefited most from the latest version of ‘scripture’ and its ‘correct’ interpretation. It seems that ‘God’ also preferred the Aaronid clan (descendants of Aaron and Ezra’s clan) over the Mushite clan (descendants of Moses), decreed the abolition of the ‘high places’ and the centralization of sacrifices in the Temple (a point of contention between Mushites and Aaronids) and gave the Aaronids exclusivity over the temple, sacrifices and tithes. We do not know to what extent the ‘Torah’ that Ezra read to the people (Nehemiah 8) following his arrival to Judea was similar to the Torah we read today.49 Many scholars think that the ‘Priestly source’ was incorporated into the Judean lore at this stage, given that the ‘Priestly Law’ includes a long list of prerogatives dear to the Aaronids and reflects, and legitimizes, their ascent to power. The return from the Persian exile also marks the end of the prophetic era, an interesting by-product of the priestly ascendancy. During the monarchic period prophets were often ‘on the record’ chastising the king and the people into compliance with the ‘ways of the Lord,’ and into protecting the weak and the poor. According to Judean tradition, God’s wishes and God’s guidance to his people were communicated through the nation’s prophets. However, when the religious elites took control of the nation’s destiny, the charismatic and maverick nature of prophecy was seen as a threat to the religious establishment that supported it in the past, and prophecy came to be seen as potentially subversive – leading to its suppression. From the return from the Persian exile onward, God’s channel of communication with his people is monopolized by the priestly establishment and prophecy ‘ceases’ with the writings of Haggai, Zechariah and Malachi. It 51 seems that prophets were useful as an opposition tool when the nation was dominated by the monarchy but disappeared as the priestly class takes over the reins. Excluding the interlude of sovereignty under the Hasmoneans, nationalistic yearnings were suppressed. The priestly hold on the nation’s soul was strengthened by inserting a cycle of sinfulness and deliverance into the Pentateuch, and into the nation’s psyche. National sin and guilt became tools to solidify the priestly grip over the nation and quell nationalistic and messianic yearnings. The priestly mindset is one of submission, of resignation, to the futility of attempting to recover national sovereignty.50 Following the Persian conquests (first half of the sixth century) and throughout the Near East, the scions of venerable and legitimate priestly families were coerced into cooperating with the conquerors or were silenced by other means. These “high priests” were, for the most part, appointed by the conquerors and lost standing in the eyes the local populations. Most of these traitors and collaborators with Persian, Greek, and Roman conquerors were hated opportunists who collected taxes and ruled the provinces on behalf of foreign oppressors. The post-priestly era, the Rabbinic era, begins as the priestly preeminence winds down following the destruction of The Temple (70 CE), we see the emergence of Rabbinic Judaism and the continuing rise of apocalyptic (revelatory), eschatological (end of times) and mystical literature.51 Apocalyptic and mystical literature surface in the period preceding the turn of the era, and may signal the surrender of the Judeans to the harsh reality of foreign conquest and the turn away from reality to the esoteric, the hidden and the fantastic. Although the origins of Jewish mysticism52 are shrouded in mystery and are the subject of inconclusive debates, it seems that as foreign oppression is perceived as unchallengeable, the fantastic and the mystical rise to the forefront and provide escape and sublimation. . From Alexander’s conquest to the second century CE, except for the short Maccabean interlude, Judean national life was curtailed by foreign conquest. Revelation and end-of-times literature (Daniel, Enoch, Qumran etc.) may have been forerunners of the esoteric and fantastic imagery that will flourish in early Merkava and Heichalot mysticism. Esoteric mysticism may have also functioned as a sublimation mechanism that alleviated subjugation and 52 suffering.53 Traditionalists see Jewish esoteric mysticism originating and evolving parallel to normative exoteric Jewish culture. Others think that Jewish mysticism may have evolved from visionary and eschatological lore.54 As time passed and the unacceptable reality of conquest persisted, the process of withdrawal from engagement with the mundane intensified. When reality becomes hopeless and unjust, when God’s justice and mercy tarry, and when despair permeates every facet of life - individuals and communities develop coping mechanisms. In these circumstances the phenomena of apocalyptic, eschatological, messianic and mystic literature may have functioned as dissonance reduction mechanisms. The rise of mystical disciplines may reflect increasing disillusionment with, and disengagement from, reality – offering a world beyond the control of foreign oppressors. A world of spiritual freedom and mystical escapism. These theological outlooks reflect yearnings from within a world lacking justice, balance, harmony or hope. With the destruction of the second Temple came the demise of the Judean priesthood. Apocalyptic and mystical strands, already on the rise, become part of mainstream Judaism. The Romans and the Jews55+ The high status of Judaism in the Roman Empire was the result of a long relationship with the Romans that started circa 164 BCE when Judas Maccabeus,56 leader of the Judean revolt, sent an embassy to Rome to secure an alliance against the Greeks. A steady increase in the status of Judaism characterized the next three centuries.57 Even though life in the Roman Empire was fraught with uncertainty and shifting tides, the Jews established communities throughout the Roman Empire and made significant contributions to commerce and culture. Jews comprised approximately 68% of the empire’s population, although estimates vary. They were a significant minority, numbering four to six million out of a population of approximately sixty million. In the provinces where Christianity first established itself – Judea, Syria, Egypt, and Asia Minor – the Jews comprised a larger percentage of the populace.58 At the time of Jesus’ ministry, the Jews of the Roman Empire were a respected and privileged minority whose influence was enhanced by a 53 relatively high level of literacy. The Jews were granted a number of unusual concessions by the Romans (the right to observe the Sabbath, to refuse military service, and to substitute prayers for the emperor in place of participation in the imperial cult). They were freed from military service by Julius Caesar – who was also supportive of Jewish life in the Diaspora. This tolerant attitude was emulated by the rulers of the provinces. Julius Caesar's enmity toward Pompey, who had conquered Jerusalem and defiled the Holy of Holies, enhanced his status among the Jews. His restoration of the unity of Judea, his deference toward the high priest Hyrcanus II, and his benevolent attitude made him very popular with the Jewish masses. Under the Romans, the Jews were relatively secure—the adherents of a tradition of laudable antiquity, high morality and considerable intellectual appeal. They were an accepted part of the landscape, viewed with curiosity and respect and with occasional suspicion and antipathy.59 It seems that their idiosyncrasies, and exalted status, did not go unnoticed and engendered occasional resentment in some quarters. However, despite their privileged status in the Empire, Roman conquest was not acceptable to most Judeans who were fierce and proud nationalists. The Jews were the only people in the Near Eastern provinces to stage several full-scale national uprisings against the Romans. They rebelled twice in attempts to regain independence (two major wars in 66-73 and 133-136 CE, in addition to uprisings in Alexandria and Cyrene). These attempts, fueled by fundamentalist fervor, proved misguided. They exacted a heavy toll and exhausted the Judean nation. The intensity of these wars, xenophobia and Jewish prerogatives60 and idiosyncrasies, were at the root of anti-Jewish feelings in some segments of Roman society.61 These confrontations did cause temporary erosions in the status of the Jews in the empire. However, these reversals were temporary. Remarkably, despite their rebelliousness and continuous nationalist ferment, Judeans seem to have maintained, most of the time, their unique privileges. 62 After occasional downturns in the relationship, their privileges were generally reinstated63 and continued until Theodosius I (379-395 CE) made Christianity the official religion of the Empire.64 54 The descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers (the founding faction of the Jesus movement) would be indistinguishable from ‘regular’ Jewish communities. They were Jewish in their self-perception and in their individual and collective behavior and would be viewed as Jews by the Roman authorities – and would have paid the ‘Jewish tax’ (Fiscus Judaicus). Being Jews, they would be exempt from sacrificing to the Roman Gods and would consequently be exempt from persecution and martyrdom. It is plausible that the exemption from Roman persecution would have triggered resentment by Gentile believers in Jesus bearing the brunt of Roman persecution – another source of friction between the parties. The Romans and Gentile Believers+ Romans, for the most part, were tolerant in matters of religious belief and allowed countless religious sects, cults, saviors, and redeemers to proselytize without restrictions. Loyal and submissive members of society could believe in any Deity they wanted, including Jesus. Belief was a private matter of no interest to the Roman authorities. Roman cohesion was based on obedience to authority and on public pledges of loyalty to the state - epitomized by symbolical sacrifices to the Roman Gods.65 Contrary to later misperceptions, at first, Romans did not oppose belief in Jesus. Rather, Romans persecuted whoever refused to pledge loyalty to Roman authority, to the inclusion of those believers in Jesus who refused to sacrifice to the Roman Gods (the equivalent of an oath of allegiance). To the exclusion of the Jews, Roman emperors demanded that all citizens and inhabitants of the empire make a public display of political submission. These rituals were symbols of submission to Roman might – not ceremonies of religious conversion. The alleged incompatibility between belief in Jesus and submission to authority was baffling to the Romans. The refusal to perform a sacrifice to the emperor, a symbolical manifestation of submission to imperial authority, was seen by the Romans as an act of political subversion. At first, Romans did not require Christians to recant their beliefs. Their aim was to discipline whoever took a public stance of defiance against imperial authority. During the second and third centuries the Paulines developed an exclusivist theological understanding of their religious commitment to Jesus that put them on a collision course with Roman culture. In antiquity, appeasement of the Gods through sacrifices was a universally recognized practice that 55 guaranteed the proper functioning of the universe. The Pagan masses were predisposed to attribute drought, floods, earthquakes and all sorts of calamities to the refusal to honor the imperial Gods. When calamity struck, the populace would blame and attack Christians as instigators of divine wrath due to their refusal to sacrifice to the Roman Gods. Mob violence was further exacerbated by a variety of misperceptions, superstitions and stereotypes about Christians that took hold among the common people. 66 Moreover, at the dawn of the second century, the Jesus movement entered a period of extreme religious fervor and militancy, internal conflict, flux and chaos. The Pauline focus on Jesus’ death nurtured a culture of ‘Imitatio Christi’ that engendered a subculture of fascination with martyrdom. 67 This mindset predisposed some Paulines to ideological intransigence that resulted in their becoming the targets of a disproportionate share of Roman persecution. It is noteworthy that although Pauline orthodoxy has promoted the belief that the refusal to sacrifice was widespread among most believers in Jesus - not all believers in Jesus were uniformly committed, militant and exclusivist. From the epistles of Ignatius and Polycarp we know that many Gentile believers became crypto-Christians. Others obtained forged certificates of compliance. Most seem to have complied with the edict. The demographics of Christian martyrdom are unknown, but human nature and the extant accounts, seem to suggest that most believers in Jesus opted for accommodation. Although the vast majority of believers in Jesus seem to have compromised with Roman authority and culture (sacrifice to the Roman Gods, payment of taxes, submission to authority, acquiescence with slavery, individual property and wealth) some did frame their stance in absolute terms, triggering persecution.68 All individuals living in the Roman Empire were free to believe whatever their souls desired, as long as the traditional protocol of symbolic submission and allegiance to imperial authority was performed. Christianity was outlawed only after two centuries of persistent behavior that the Romans interpreted as defiant and subversive, and after three official persecutions failed to quell what the Romans considered to be seditious behavior. Pagans could not but interpret the refusal to sacrifice to the Roman Gods (by some, not all Gentile believers in Jesus) as an act of political defiance. The point of contention, as seen from the Roman side, 56 was not belief in Jesus. It was the refusal to acknowledge imperial authority. ‘The polytheistic worldview of the Romans did not incline them to understand a refusal to worship, even symbolically, the state gods.’69 Wilson concluded that eventually, ‘Christians’ (i.e. Pauline believers) would have been suspected of conspiracy and disloyalty. Per Wilson, Christianity appeared as a movement that promoted disruption of the established order and dangerous social tendencies. The prejudice became so instinctive that eventually, mere confession of the name Christian could be sufficient grounds for execution.70 Per Zetterholm, the Jesus-believing Gentiles of Antioch found themselves in the peculiar position of having to publicly identify themselves as Jews subject to the tax to avoid prosecution for neglect of the cult.71 Avoidance of persecution, by seeking the protection of ‘religio licita’ enjoyed by the Jewish followers of Jesus, would have further incensed Pauline leaders and intellectuals - exactly what we encountered. Indeed, the author of Revelation seems to imply that those ‘that say they are Jews but are not’ (Rev 2:9 and 3:9) are doing so to avoid persecution. 72 Roman persecution of Gentile believers in Jesus lasted more than two centuries and included harassment at the local level, and officially sanctioned or decreed persecution. Officially sanctioned Roman persecution was most intense during the reigns of Marcus Aurelius (161-180), Decius (249-251), Diocletian (281-205) and Galerius (305-312). We do not know much about the attitudes of non-Pauline Gentile believers in Jesus toward the pledge of allegiance to the emperor. The fate of Marcionite and Gnostic believers in Jesus is opaque to us. Gnostic theology and mindset may have predisposed these believers to go underground, to living a crypto lifestyle. Gnostics, inclined to an esoteric lifestyle, may have avoided the collision that Paulines experienced with the Roman authorities. I doubt that they would have chosen martyrdom to avoid an ‘external’ vow or pledge. Thus, it is possible that the Jewish followers of Jesus and Gnostic believers may have avoided persecution altogether and that Paulines and (maybe) Marcionites bore the brunt of it. The communities of the descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers, being indistinguishable from other Jewish congregations, would have continued to enjoy all the privileges of a ‘religio licita.’ 57 58 Chapter 2 *The First Years Introduction Paul The New Testament and Qumran The James enigma A Growing Tension What Is at Stake Summary Introduction+ The legacies of towering founders anchor the great religious traditions of the world. Most of the great religious leaders (Moses, Buddha, Confucius, Mohammad, and Paul) enjoyed long lives and long ministries. Long ministries helped them develop, clarify, and cement their legacies among their followers. A lifetime of leadership and teaching enabled them to develop and articulate a comprehensive vision and to inculcate in their followers a solid understanding of their legacy. Upon their death, their followers had a path to follow, and they could rally around a mature doctrinal legacy. 59 Jesus’s ministry lasted only 18 to 36 months.73 This extraordinarily short ministry may account for the fact that his followers seem to have been unprepared for his death. Jesus’s death seems to have plunged his disciples and followers into a crisis that may have contributed to the theological and doctrinal anarchy that followed. Instead of embracing a clear legacy, Jesus’s followers had to figure out what his legacy should be. The absence of a substantial formative period and a large influx of converts from Paganism seem to have contributed to the emergence of differing Gentile forms of belief in Jesus.74 In Judaism, with the probable exception of Qumran, messianic movements have come undone upon the leader’s death. Thus, continuation of the Jesus movement required the articulation of a vision of Jesus’s life and ministry that would support continuity. Lacking an authoritative pattern to follow, some may have left the movement. Others searched the Jewish sacred scriptures for an explanation. Paul’s Epistles were authored in the decades following Jesus’ death and are the earliest extant attempts to formulate Jesus’ legacy. Other attempts to understand the meaning of Jesus’s life and death engendered Q, James, proto-Matthew, and proto-John. This would be the earliest, and Jewish, layer of the New Testament. The canonical Gospels, the Epistle to the Hebrews, Revelation, Barnabas, the Gnostic Gospels of Mary, Thomas, and Phillip, the Gospel of the Truth, the Apocryphon of John, and the Dialogue of the Savior, are later texts that showcase the diversity of the early Gentile strands. Any attempt to gaze at the two– three decades following Jesus’s death must be highly qualified. Attempting to make sense of the pre-Synoptic period is an excursion fraught by low visibility and unpredictable ground. Of special interest to our pursuit is whether the anti-Judaic bent of the canonical texts had antecedents in the pre-synoptic era. The pre-Synoptic phase of the Passion narratives is the arena where we may find important indications that may clarify the emergence of the ‘Jewish responsibility’ libel.75 Whether these attitudes were held by the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers or grew mostly among non-Jews, is critical to our attempts to understand the emergence of anti-Judaic attitudes among early Gentile believers. 60 If the Passion narratives originate in one of several pre-Gospel traditions, the rhetoric against the Jewish followers of Jesus can be assigned to a unique and concrete situation (one community, one faction, one set of circumstances). On the other hand, if the canonical Passion narratives originate from a wide spectrum of pre-Gospel traditions or from a single but widespread tradition, the anti-Jewish strand would have emerged out of a wider foundation, and a wider consensus. If the former is supported, we have one tradition that has overtaken others. If the latter is upheld, it may indicate that there was a tradition of anti-Jewish-establishment suspicion regarding Jesus’s death that was widely espoused. As we travel backward in time, we need to tune our sensibilities to fit the militant tone that characterized religious clashes during the first centuries of the era; there is considerable evidence that turn-of-the-era religious disputes were intense and vitriolic. Debates were often rancorous. ‘Bashing the competition’ was the norm. Misrepresenting the opposition was unexceptional. Moreover, as we try to understand the spirit of the age, we must separate our analysis of the author’s original intent from its subordination to service later agendas. Furthermore, we need underline that, for the most part, religious texts were deployed to proselytize —not to inform. They were authored to shape the beliefs and attitudes of believers, rather than to provide an accurate historical account. 61 62 *Paul Paul and Judaism The Theological Paul The Controversial Paul Paul and the Jewish Followers of Jesus Paul, Faith, and the Law Paul in Modern Scholarship The Acts Rendition Summary My Paul Introduction+ The Pauline letters that are accepted as authentic by most scholars (Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon) are the earliest integral New Testament documents available to us. Paul is one of the most studied and researched individuals in the Western tradition. He is, without doubt, the foremost theologian of the New Testament and he underpins the New Testament. Paul is also a charismatic, enigmatic, and frustrated religious visionary who was unable to reach, in his lifetime, the recognition and the legitimacy he craved. Great efforts have been made by theologians and by academics to interpret and to harmonize Paul’s seemingly dissonant theological statements. These efforts have produced a bewildering labyrinth of arguments and counterarguments. Incursions into this minefield are demanding. The superstore of Paul interpretation offers a wide array of choices. Each creedal, theological, and denominational predisposition has its team of favorite scholars.76 63 This chapter is an introductory survey. I do not attempt to present a comprehensive study of Paul’s theology, personality, thought, or deeds. Rather, this monograph focuses on Paul’s legacy as interpreted by his immediate followers - the various forms of Gentile belief in Jesus that emerged following Paul´s mission to the Gentiles (not on exegesis of Paul´s historical views). I will concentrate on Paul’s impact on Jewish-Gentile relations within the Jesus movement and on his unintended impact on Jewish-Christian relations throughout the ages. Therefore, my interest centers on the controversial, polemical, and rhetorical Paul - the originator of the polemical strand, according to traditional scholarship. Whether this role is in substantial harmony or dissonance with Paul’s intent is one of the puzzles that will confront us. Paul and Judaism77+ Paul’s statements about Jews and about Judaism are, to many readers and scholars, erratic, contradictory, confusing, and inconsistent. Throughout the ages, Judaism has viewed Paul as a traitor who was disloyal to his people and caused great suffering. Paul’s relationship with, and attitudes toward, Judaism are complex matters that are the subject of intense debate and study. A couple generations after Paul’s death, his followers appear to have split into two main strands: Marcionite and Lukan. Paul’s legacy, as it regards Jews and Judaism, was interpreted by both groups to signal ambivalence and antagonism.78 According to Gager,79 any reader of Paul has to address two separate sets of statements that are in full contradiction: The anti-Israel and anti-Law (anti-Torah observance) set: a. For all who rely on works of the law are under a curse. (Gal. 3:10) b. [N]o man is justified before God by the law. (Gal. 3:11) c. For neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation. (Gal. 6:15) d. For no human being will be justified in his [God’s] sight by works of the law, since through the law comes knowledge of sin. (Rom. 3:20) e. Israel who pursued the righteousness which is based on law did not succeed in fulfilling that law. (Rom. 9:31) f. But their minds were hardened; for to this day, when they read the old covenant, that same veil remains unlifted, because only through 64 Christ is it taken away. Yes, to this day whenever Moses is read a veil lies over their minds. (2 Cor. 3:14–15) The pro-Israel and pro-Law (pro-Torah observance) set: a. Then what advantage has the Jew? Or what is the value of circumcision? Much in every way. (Rom. 3:1–2) b. Do we then overthrow the law by this faith? By no means! On the contrary, we uphold the law. (Rom. 3:31) c. What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means! (Rom. 7:7) d. So, the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and just and good. (Rom. 7:12) e. They are Israelites, and to them belong the sonship, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and of their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ. (Rom. 9:4–5) f. I ask, then, has God rejected his people? By no means! (Rom. 11:1) g. [A]nd so all Israel will be saved. (Rom. 11:26) h. Is the law then against the promises of God? Certainly not. (Gal. 3:21) Paul’s letters were crafted to address issues at hand; they were not intended to form a consistent theological whole. Therefore, and unfortunately, we do not have an explicit and comprehensive theological summary that would enable us to navigate his seemingly conflicting conjectural statements. The closest we have, to a possible theological summary, may be the Epistle to the Romans.80 In addition to the seemingly contradictory statements we have from Paul regarding to Torah observance (The Law), one’s conclusions on the complex questions that surround Paul’s legacy will depend on one’s assessment of the reliability of the sources available to us. Students of Paul must address the tensions and the inconsistencies between the two main early sources of information about his ministry: The Acts/Luke rendition and Paul’s Epistles. Scholars also differ on Acts’ agenda. Was Acts written to present an historical account, as implied? Or was it crafted to portray followers of Jesus as loyal to Rome, to mitigate Rome’s persecution, to exonerate Rome from 65 responsibility for Jesus’s death, to oppose Marcion or to legitimate Paul by presenting him as respectful of authority and hierarchy?81 Traditional scholarship has emphasized Acts as a guide to decoding Paul and has read Paul as supportive and suggestive of anti-Judaism. Modern scholarship attempts to understand Paul through his own writings and tends to reject other texts as biased and tendentious – leading to a different, and non-anti-Judaic Paul. Whether we reach the conclusion that Paul was antiJudaic (as the traditionalists would have it) or not-anti-Judaic (as the revisionists would have it) will color our understanding of his theology. The historical setting of Paul’s Epistles is crucial. Sanders points out that the Epistle to the Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians and Galatians were all written within a very short period.82 Thessalonians seems to be from several years earlier, and Philippians is somewhat difficult to date. Sanders, reflecting mainstream scholarship, concludes that since most discussions of Paul inevitably focus on the letters first mentioned, it must be recalled that they represent Paul at a crucial moment in his history—with difficulties in his previously evangelized churches breaking out just as he was hoping to complete the collection for Jerusalem and press on to the west—and these circumstances forced him into a critical examination of his gospel and the restatement of it vis- à -vis seriously competing views.83 To assess Paul’s contribution to Jewish-Gentile relations among early believers in Jesus, we need to address the following questions: 1. What were Paul’s teachings regarding Jews and Judaism? 2. Were Paul’s teachings regarding Jews and Judaism consistent or erratic? 3. Did Paul attempt to lure Jews away from Judaism? [+pg 55] The Theological Paul Many traditionalists (Bousset, Harnack, Holtzmann, Morgan, Reitzenstein, and others) supported an understanding of Paul as grounded in the religious milieu of first century Rome. Accordingly, Judaism, Platonism, and the 66 Mystery Religions were all seen as significant contributors to the new religion. Traditional scholarship advocated a fundamental antithesis between Paul and Judaism. In modern scholarship, there is a growing emphasis on continuity (Davis, Sanders, Gager, Gaston, and many others). At the dawn of the twenty-first century, an increasing number of scholars see Judaism as the dominant component of Paul’s background and thinking.84 W. D. Davis pioneered the shift of emphasis from antithetical to consonant and derivative. Davies emphasized Paul’s close relation to Rabbinic Judaism and concluded that we cannot too strongly insist that for Paul the acceptance of the Gospel was not the rejection of Judaism nor the discovery of a new religion wholly antithetical to it (as his polemics might lead us to assume). Rather, per Davies, Paul advocates the recognition of the advent of the true and final form of Judaism, in other words, the advent of the Messianic age of Jewish expectations.85 During the last decades of the twentieth century new inroads were made in the attempt to carve out a ‘revised’ Paul, free from the anti-Jewish interpretations of his immediate and later followers. My understanding of the theological foundations visible in Paul’s Epistles is as follows: Judaism —Judaism contributed monotheism (one omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent God), a teleological view of history (history unfolds toward a destination and reveals God’s purposes) and a scriptural religion (scripture as a vehicle for safeguarding, transmitting, and legitimating religion, tradition, and political power). Dead Sea Scrolls research has yielded a recognition of the debt of the Pauline creed (The Kerygma - 1 Cor. 15.3)86 to Jewish sectarian theology. Judean sectarians, as exemplified by the Qumran community, may have had a strong influence on Pauline tenets and may have contributed elements that were attributed by earlier research to non-Jewish sources. Dead Sea Scrolls research has also contributed to the growing understanding that Paul’s end of times focus and dualism may have originated in Jewish sectarian lore. Paul’s vision of the world as a battleground between dualistic forces (good and evil, soul and flesh, sin and righteousness, light and darkness) may have originated in Jewish sectarianeschatological-dualistic theologies, to the inclusion of Qumran’s Two Ways tradition. 67 Gnosticism —Gnosticism is a modern designation for a variety of spiritual trends that flourished during the first centuries of the Common Era (Hermetica, Valentians, Mandaeans, and Manichaeans). Although Gnostic inclinations surface among Gentile believers during the second century, Paul´s undermining of the importance of Torah observance by Gentiles ignited a debate among Gentile believers that culminated in Marcion, who concluded that the Jewish Bible was no longer relevant and in the Gnostics who concluded that the Jewish Bible is relevant, but not accurate and that the God it honors is not the true God. According to Gnosticism, salvation comes from secret knowledge received and understood only by the few, the elect. The divine spark within is to be freed, and a redeemer/savior will provide escape from suffering (Gal. 4:3; Eph, 3:10, 12; Col. 2:8).87 Gnostics believed that both their origin and their destiny lay in a supreme deity. The supreme God dwells in a heavenly place removed from the evil world, which is seen as the creation of a disobedient angel or demiurge. The demiurge seeks to hold humans in ignorance of their true identity - in sleepiness and intoxication. A divine messenger will come and awaken humans and free them from the bonds of ignorance by bringing true knowledge.88 Harnack and others since, see some features of Paul’s theology as deriving from Gnosticism.89 Mystery Religions —the cults of Mithra, Isis, Osiris, Attis, Dyonisus, Adonis, Demeter, and others are known as ‘mystery religions.’ This is a modern designation for a variety of ancient Greek, Persian, and Egyptian cults that competed for Roman interest and patronage. Little is known about these religious groups given that their members held their rituals and beliefs in secret. As the Jewish grounding of Paul has been increasingly acknowledged, the emphasis on this source seems to have weakened.90 The Mystery Religions have been a preferred source for the sacrifice of the savior as a vehicle for atonement and salvation, for the negative view of the flesh and of sex, and for a pervasive and overwhelming sense of sinfulness and deprivation. (Sandon, the official god of Tarsus, Paul’s birthplace, is a suffering and resurrecting savior God). Overall, Paul’s theological synthesis is unique and powerful—so much so, that Jesus would not have recognized it.91 Paul’s integration of Jewish and 68 non-Jewish influences is a personal synthesis reinforced by a claim to revelation (Gal. 1:11–17; 2 Cor. 12:1–6; 1 Cor. 9:1; 15:8). Paul’s extraordinary theological synthesis seems to reflect his personal cultural background and may be substantially dependent on Qumran theology.92 Paul’s emphasis on salvation by ‘faith alone’ was an intrepid attempt to introduce the ethical core of Judaism to Gentiles, without the eccentricities that were most alien to Gentile converts: Torah observance, circumcision, and dietary Law.93 Although Paul’s synthesis could be seen as the natural expression of personal experiences and exposures, it is nonetheless a remarkable accomplishment. The Controversial Paul Paul was a charismatic religious visionary deeply convinced of the centrality of Jesus’s death and resurrection as the pivotal event of human history. This belief overrode all else. Paul’s sense of mission and uniqueness was centered in his claim to superior standing over the disciples and was grounded on his experience of direct revelation from Jesus (Gal. 1:11–12). Unfortunately, Paul left us sketchy descriptions of the revelation he experienced and of his meetings in Jerusalem. On these crucial events, we are almost wholly dependent on the author of Acts. Although sympathetic to Paul, Acts seems to deny him the status he yearned for. Paul’s claims to higher status (on the basis of revelation) are addressed by omission. According to Acts, when confronted by the Jewish followers of Jesus in the Jerusalem meetings, Paul submits to the authority of James.94 He is submissive and subservient and does not claim authority of any type. In Acts, James is the undisputed leader and Paul submits to his authority.95 Paul is also a surprisingly candid and self-professed master of theological gymnastics. He displays an approach to proselytizing that is unparalleled in religious recruiting. In his own astonishing self-description: 20 To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might 69 win those under the law. 21 To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law) so that I might win those outside the law. (1 Cor. 9: 20–22)96 Most academic studies attempt to bypass the ‘controversial Paul’ by assigning one text (mostly Galatians or Romans) as the pivotal and defining text. This approach understates the contradictions that surface when all the Pauline texts are compared. Paul, the center of gravity of the New Testament is difficult to pin down. Attempts to salvage a consistent Paul have intensified in recent decades. Some assign the inconsistencies and contradictions in Paul to his contingent target audiences; others point to his rhetorical technique.97 Paul and the Jewish Followers of Jesus98 The New Testament texts and later orthodoxy attempt to convey recognition of Paul and his mission (and by inference of his theology) by James and the disciples—while understating the ambivalence and opposition he seems to have faced.99 Paul claims pre-eminence over the founding fathers on the basis of revelation, a stance that they would have rejected—if aware of it:100 For I would have you know, brethren, that the gospel which was preached by me is not man’s gospel. For I did not receive it from man, nor was I taught it, but it came through a revelation of Jesus Christ. (Gal 1:11–12) ... was pleased to reveal his Son to me, in order that I might preach him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with flesh and blood. (Gal. 1:16). Paul’s relationship with the ‘founding fathers’ seems to have been difficult, complex, and turbulent (I explore these relationships in the chapter dedicated to the Epistle of James).101 The Acts depiction of James’s blessing of Paul’s mission to the Gentiles (Acts 15) if historical, is short and leaves many questions unanswered. Although Acts, the M material in Matthew, and 70 the Epistle of James reflect James’s wish for the Jewish followers of Jesus to remain Jews and to obey the Torah, scripture does not clarify James’s vision on how the missions to the Jews and to the Gentiles were to relate to each other. James’ cryptic statement, if historical, left many unanswered questions as to fellowship between Jews and Gentiles in the Jesus movement. Whether James bestowed upon Paul’s mission to the Gentiles equal standing to the Torah observant mission to the Jews, and whether (and under what circumstances) the relationship between the parties was discussed – are open questions.102 Chances are that we will never know what James’s intentions were. According to Acts, during the period between the first and second meetings with James, Paul breached James’s blessing by promoting, among Gentiles, attitudes toward the Torah and toward Judaism that would be unacceptable to followers of Jesus of Jewish origin. Paul’s anti-Law hyperbole, even if used only while addressing Gentile audiences, was detrimental to the status of the Torah and would be anathema to the Jewish followers of Jesus. If Paul’s claim that the Law (the Torah) was to be considered replaced by belief in Jesus’s death and resurrection (Gal. 3:10, 11; 6:15; Rom. 3:20; 9:31) was proclaimed to audiences containing Jewish believers, it would be an affront to the ‘founding fathers.’ According to the Acts rendition of the second meeting (Acts 21) James expected Paul to limit his activities to Gentiles. James’s blessing of Paul’s mission to the Gentiles may have unintentionally created a two-tier movement and may have planted the seeds of future frictions between the factions. It would seem that tensions between Paul and the Jewish leaders of the Jesus movement escalated due to the fact that he had not kept his side of the deal; Paul was accused of luring Jews away from Judaism (Rom. 7:1–5; Gal. 4:21–29; 1 Cor. 9:20–22; Acts 21:21) and Acts corroborates that point.103 This evidence seems to contradict the argument that Paul’s rhetoric can be explained and justified on the grounds that his audiences were Gentile, as some modern scholars contend. It took years before gossip became rumor, and rumor became suspicion. Eventually, Paul had to answer the accusations leveled against him that he was luring Jews away from Judaism; of targeting Jewish communities and of 71 breaching the boundaries of James’s blessing. Paul’s position did become untenable: he needed James’s blessing to vest his mission to the Gentiles with respectability and with legitimacy but seems to have transgressed his directives. Corroboration of James’s position about Torah observance and works may have been preserved in the Epistle that bears his name: For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it... What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him?... So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead... But some one will say, ‘You have faith and I have works.’ Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith. (James 2:10–18) We can summarize the position of James, as reflected in Acts and James, as follows: 1. James blessed Paul’s mission to the Gentiles. 2. Gentiles don’t need to keep the Torah.104 The Torah was not abrogated, superseded, or changed in any way.105Unfortunately, the authoritative lore does not educate us as to the extent of James’s awareness of Paul’s ambivalent proclamations on Torah observance and Judaism. I speculate that James, an upholder of the Law, would have had no room for Paul’s ambivalent messages about Torah observance, even while addressing Gentile audiences. Although the author of Acts places Paul center stage, he did not want Paul as the founder of Christianity. For the author of Luke/Acts and for his audience, the maverick Paul was problematic. The author of Luke/Acts fashioned a legitimating narrative that emanates from Jesus and his disciples, not from Paul. The Acts rendition of the second summons to Jerusalem (Acts 21) is a masterful attempt to present an embarrassing situation in the best possible light. Paul was accused of undermining the status of the Torah and of the founding faction (as the authoritative leaders of the movement)—while evangelizing under the respectability bestowed upon him by James’s blessing. Paul, claimant to independent and superior status before Christ, was confronted about his theological acrobatics. 72 The Acts rendition of this episode is laconic: Paul was to undergo a public ceremony designed to demonstrate his unequivocal adherence to the Torah. the charges are presented and James orders to conduct a ceremonial ritual that would demonstrate Paul’s Judaism. The announcement is made without giving Paul an opportunity to respond and without Paul asking for one. Acts makes every effort to cast Paul as a Torah-observant Jew106 and subordinates Paul to James, inheritor of Jesus’s leadership. According to Acts, James tried (by the device of the ceremony), to no avail, to save Paul from the mob. The ceremony (Acts 21) was not sufficient; Jews were incensed by Paul’s actions. Paul was arrested to protect him from people that were out to kill him. We can only guess why the guidelines set by James were breached. We have indications that they may have collapsed at both ends: whereas ‘some from James’ may have caused a split in the Antiochene community by demanding that Gentiles keep the Torah (Gal. 2:11–14), Paul may have lured Jews away from Judaism (1 Cor. 9:20– 22 and Acts 21:18– 26) and may have been disrespectful toward the Torah while addressing Gentile audiences (Gal 3: 10-11, Gal 6:15, Rom 3:20, Rom 9:31, 2 Cor 3: 14-15) exacerbating tensions between Jews and Gentiles. It would appear that, if historical, James’s blessing of the mission to the Gentiles was unclear and/or dysfunctional. It seems that James’s directive disintegrated upon impact with reality on the ground.107 The Acts Rendition The Acts account about the first Jerusalem council is cryptic and focused on vesting Paul’s ministry with the approval of James. It remains unclear whether James granted non-Jews equal standing in the covenant, or just applied the Noachide Laws to the specific circumstances at hand. We must assume that Paul traveled twice to Jerusalem in search of something more than a partial reiteration of the Noachide Laws, which do not require James’ confirmation and cover all humans. We do not know whether Paul and James debated the possible emergence of two parallel but incompatible communities, Paul’s understanding of Jesus’s legacy or his claim to higher standing based on direct revelation from Jesus—a claim he seems to have made while addressing Gentiles. We may never know whether Acts’ rendition of James’s blessing of Paul’s mission to the Gentiles should be 73 read as historical or as a legitimating myth. Either way, Paul’s journeys to Jerusalem indicate that James’s blessing was quintessential to Paul. It seems that the understanding reached in the first Jerusalem council (circa 45-49 CE), if historical, whereby there would be two separate missions, one to the Jews and one to the Gentiles, proved to be not viable. It is possible that the Acts version of the events, two dispensations—one to the Jews and one to the Gentiles—could be a posterior Pauline expansion of James’s application of the Noachide Laws to the specific circumstances at hand. Be it as it may, Paul’s later statements and the tensions between Jews and Gentiles in the Jesus movement would appear to signal that Paul may have heard more than James said.108 Paul, Faith, and the Law+ Paul put emphasis on a series of dualistic pairs that have been central in apologetics since and are a distortion of first-century Judaism. Paul’s presentation states: Jewish belief Torah=Law - Sinful - Flesh - Works - Darkness > Superseded Pauline belief Faith=Faith - Saved - Spirit - Belief - Light > Supersedes Paul’s use of these imaginary contrasts requires looking into. Contrary to traditional Gentile presentations, the Torah/Law does not replace or negate faith; it reinforces it. The Torah edifies the individual and promotes good and compassionate behavior.109 Paul’s dramatic juxtaposition of faith and the Law, of belief and works, and of spirit and flesh is heavily influenced by proto-Gnostic and Jewish sectarian dualism:110 obsession with sin and a negative attitude toward the body (flesh) as the incarcerator of the spirit. These illusory juxtapositions were successful with Gentile audiences who had no prior knowledge of what the Torah, or Judaism, actually were. With time, the Gentile followers of Paul became infused with high doses of antiLaw rhetoric and the Law became a major emotional ‘red flag,’ a central ‘wedge issue’ in the drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus. 74 The confusion engendered by Paul’s anti-Law rhetoric is highlighted by indications of an ethical void among some believers who inferred that rejection of the Law implied rejection of moral behavior. It would appear that Paul’s anti-Law polemic created an ethical vacuum that engendered confusion, anarchy (Rom. 16:17–19;1 Cor. 1:10–13; 15:23–24; Gal. 1:6–9; Phil. 3:1–2), sin, and transgression (Rom. 3:8; 6:1; 6:15; 7:7; 13:10–14; 1 Cor. 5:1–5; 2 Cor. 2:17; 1 Thess. 4:3–10). This result was unforeseen and unintended by Paul who often calls upon his congregations to behave ethically, and to restrain deviant behavior. [+pg 59] Paul in Modern Scholarship Traditional interpretations of Paul’s writings are on the defensive following path breaking works by scholars such as K. Stendahl, W. D. Davies, E. P. Sanders, P. Gaston, and J. Gager who stand on earlier calls against traditional readings by G. F. Moore, James Parkes, and T. Herford. Moreover, traditional scholarship reads Paul as anti-Jewish, stresses Paul’s confrontation with Judaism and has attempted, by all possible means, to present a consistent Paul. The shift away from traditional readings of Paul 111 has gained momentum in the last three–four decades. This shift has two main pivots: a. The discovery by Christian scholars of real first-century Judaism. b. The attempts to understand Paul outside the orthodox hegemony (a ‘revised’ Paul). Gager best summarized traditional views about Paul as follows: Paul underwent a typical conversion from one religion to another, in this case from Judaism to Christianity. As a result of this conversion, he preached against the Jewish Law, against Judaism, and against Israel. The content of this negative teaching was that the Law, the old covenant with Israel, was no longer the path to salvation, for Jews or for Gentiles. Indeed, God had never intended it to be. God had rejected the Jews/Israel as the chosen people. 75 Most traditional interpreters maintain that Paul’s attacks against the Law are founded on a sound understanding of ancient Judaism. The radical antithesis between Judaism and Christianity is represented as a decisive transition from religious particularism to religious universalism. Accordingly, Paul transcended Judaism. Gager articulates Paul’s unintended origination of the polemical strand and his centuries-long status as the fountainhead of anti-Judaism as follows: This rejection-replacement view of Judaism quickly became the dominant stance within Christian circles in the early centuries; it underlies the message and structure of the New Testament as a whole. And it is within this structure that Paul stands as the central figure. For the New Testament and certainly for those who created it, Paul was the theologian of Christian anti-Judaism.112 Pivots in scholarship emerge gradually. Most originate in changes in focus and emphasis. Krister Stendahl stands at such an historical juncture. A shift of emphasis by Stendahl (1964) and E. P. Sander’s attack on the view of Judaism as work-righteousness (1977) questioned the traditional Christian understanding of Judaism. Sanders argued that Judaism cannot be understood or defined by reading Paul. Sanders also repudiated the view that first-century Judaism was legalistic, and he opposed interpretations of Paul as anti-Jewish. Nonetheless, he saw Paul as devaluing and deemphasizing Judaism: The Law is good, even doing the Law is good, but salvation is only by Christ; therefore, the entire system represented by the Law is worthless for salvation... Paul in fact explicitly denies that the Jewish covenant can be effective for salvation, thus consciously denying the basis of Judaism.’113 Stendahl, a leading Lutheran theologian, articulated his revolutionary views on Paul: 76 [A] doctrine of justification by faith was hammered out by Paul for the very specific and limited purpose of defending the rights of Gentile converts to be full and genuine heirs to the promises of God to Israel. Their rights were based solely on faith in Jesus Christ. This was Paul’s very special stance, and he defended it zealously against any compromise that required circumcision or the keeping of kosher food laws by Gentile Christians. As the apostle to the Gentiles he defended this view as part and parcel of the special assignment and revelation that he had received directly from God. In none of his writings does he give us information about what he thought to be proper in these matters for Jewish-Christians.114 In other words, Stendahl challenged the focus of Paul scholarship by giving to Paul’s letters a conjectural status. This ‘revised and new Paul’ may be labeled ‘non-anti-Judaic.’115 According to Stendhal, we should not read Paul’s letters as general theological statements addressed to Jews and Gentiles. Stendahl reads Paul’s letters as directed toward, and applying to, his Gentile audience exclusively. Consequently, Paul’s anti-Law and anti-Judaic statements are to be read within the context of his fierce battle against those among the Jewish founders and their Gentile sympathizers who opposed a separate dispensation for the Gentiles. These opponents insisted on a stronger affinity to, and affiliation with, Judaism.116 Thus, according to Stendahl, Paul’s statements are irrelevant to Jews, or to the relationship between Judaism and the Law. In summary form, Stendahl’s understanding of Paul may be summarized as follows: a. The focus is ‘Paul the apostle to the Gentiles.’ Failure to retain this focus can only lead to distortions, misconstructions, and blocked access to Paul’s original thought. b. In particular, it was Augustine’s discovery of Paul’s introspective conscience, along with Luther’s focus on justification by faith, which led readers to impose (to read back) meanings that were absolutely the opposite of what Paul said. 77 c. Modern translations of the Bible regularly reflect this Augustinian and Lutheran Paul. d. In Galatians, Paul is defending his Gospel against Judaizers within the Jesus movement, not against Jews outside it. e. Romans Chapters 9 – 11 represent the culmination of his thinking, not an incidental appendix. f. If Paul argues against anything in Romans, it is against the first signs of anti-Judaism among Jesus worshipers, not against Judaism.117 g. We should not speak of Paul’s conversion as if it implied a transfer out of Judaism; he had no concept of ‘Christianity as we know it’ or of his Gospel as a new religion. h. Paul remained a Jew throughout his life; we should always read him within the context of traditional Jewish thought, not against it. i. Paul does not speak of Jews and of Judaism in terms of the customary stereotypes put forward by many scholars. Fifty years after Stendahl’s proposal for a revised Paul, a significant number of scholars have elaborated and nuanced Stendahl’s views. New voices have taken center stage. Prominent New Testament scholars are working toward a new understanding of Paul’s ministry and of his relationship to Judaism. The ‘revised Paul,’ and ‘Paul within Judaism’ are current academic terms for the perspective that emerged out of this paradigmatic shift in Pauline studies. This ‘revised Paul’ interprets Paul as fully grounded in first century Judaism. Stendahl, Sanders, Gaston, Gager, Stowers, Nanos, Zetterholm and others highlight the Gentile nature of Paul’s mission and frame Paul as a torah-observant Jew who was opposed to demanding Torah observance from Gentiles. A deluge of books, cooperative surveys, dissertations and articles followed Sanders’ and Stendahl’s pioneering works on Paul and on the true nature of Second Temple Judaism.118 As expected following paradigmatic shifts, recent scholarship seems to indicate that some scholars are attempting to reevaluate, nuance, and mitigate the impact of the New Perspective on Paul: ‘The new perspective by no means replaces the old perspective, but the debate it has fostered cleans the 78 lenses of both and allows the Pauline perspective to be seen in more of its idiosyncratic fullness.’119 Westerholm acknowledges that Sanders’ positive contribution lies not so much in the details of his depiction of Judaism as in the serious effort he made to understand Judaism on its own terms, as based on its own literature. ‘As an (almost immediate) result, it became no longer acceptable to perpetuate earlier caricatures of Judaism with little basis in the texts. Even Sanders’s sharpest critics acknowledge that depiction of Judaism prior to Paul and Palestinian Judaism were often misleading, at times maliciously so.’120 A commendable, and recent, attempt to present balanced views on the traditional and new perspectives is to be found in Longenecker Bruce W. and Still Todd D. Thinking Through Paul: An Introduction to His Life, Letters, and Theology (2014) where the authors assess strengths and weaknesses of both, and by doing so offer a useful summary. For the most part, Luther’s Paul (the traditional Paul) is now seen as embarrassing and as immaterial to the true nature of the first-century crucible.121 However, each scholar reads Paul somewhat differently. Positioning is highly nuanced. The ‘new’ Paul is nothing short of a revolution, not only in Paul scholarship, but also in New Testament studies—and inevitably in the Christian selfunderstanding. Since Paul is the theological foundation of the New Testament, re-forming Paul leads to the inevitable reconstructing of the tradition. Paul – Summary+ Paul, unlike Buddha, Plato, and Mohammed, did not write or transmit to his followers a comprehensive and systematic articulation of his views— setting off the emergence of radically divergent interpretations of his legacy. In the 79 absence of a methodical and comprehensive presentation of his mature theology, believers have created a cacophony of Pauline voices. Paul, the elusive first-century religious visionary, who wanted to mold himself to fit all audiences, got a fitting legacy: every denomination and faction has its Pauline scholars of preference. Every predisposition has its affiliated branch of Paul scholarship. The anti-Judaic/anti-Law Paul is still deeply ingrained in the lore and in the minds and hearts of believers. Many have made one or more steps toward the ‘revised’ Paul but have difficulties in divorcing themselves from the traditional paradigm altogether. In addition, whether Paul was obscure but consistent or clear, but erratic remains a contentious topic.122 According to the supporters of the ‘revised’ Paul, the traditional ‘anti-Jewish’ and ‘antiLaw’ Paul is (mostly) based on a misrepresentation of his message and intent, and on the misinterpretation of his letters as a systematic theological statement. Great effort has been invested in explaining Paul and in making him more appealing to modern sensibilities. It is unclear what impact this shift will have on non-academic readers of the texts. So far, access and exposure to the revised Paul has been limited. For the most part, the polemical impact of the texts on the literal reader remains largely unchanged. Unfortunately, the revised Paul is difficult to articulate and defend for it requires deviation from long ingrained and more inherently intuitive readings of the texts. Centuries of traditional readings of Paul make the revised versions counterintuitive, too contrary to the literal Paul who people encounter when reading the New Testament.123 My Paul+ Paul not only introduced ethical monotheism,124 scriptural religion, and teleology125 to the Roman world, he also pioneered the rich and fruitful universe of personal belief. He was the first to familiarize ‘Western’ minds with the emotional and intellectual universe that moderns call ‘individual consciousness and belief.’ This contribution has not received proper credit due to our intuitive inclusion of beliefs and values within the realm of religion and to our (modern) awareness of ‘individual belief.’ 80 However, for first-century Romans, belief (i.e., the beliefs of individuals) was to a large extent an unknown and unappreciated component of the human cognitive and religious experience. Individual belief was of no concern to the Roman authorities, religious or secular. The focal point of Roman life, culture, and religion were actions and deeds—not the beliefs of individuals. Religion was largely cultic. To most Romans, religion was a ritual act of allegiance with few requirements or implications. Beliefs and values, so central to moderns, were part of philosophy, not of religion. St. Augustine is considered by many to be the first existentialist of the Western tradition for his early investigation of inner consciousness. However, after studying Paul, I consider him to be the true precursor of the Western exploration of individual religious introspection.126 Paul’s emphasis on individual belief must have been novel and empowering. Moreover, by gravitating to the Gentile world, Paul became one of the great trans-cultural figures. By distilling the Jewish message to its essence and by choosing belief as the delivery vehicle, Paul designed one of the most effective campaigns in the history of trans-cultural theological transfers.127 ‘Sola Fide’ (by belief alone), Paul’s doctrinal battle cry, turned out to be the perfect channel, the perfect vehicle for the penetration of the Roman cultural and psychological defenses for it ‘delivered’ the essence of Judaism to his target audience. Individual belief, as understood by moderns, was an under-developed and consequently unprotected, dimension in Roman religious thought. By concentrating on belief, Paul fashioned an intellectual and religious Trojan horse that targeted an open flank in the Roman armor. Paul’s message did penetrate the Roman cultural and emotional defenses, without activating the defense mechanisms that protect sacred tenets. Paul’s emphasis on belief must have been revolutionary. The notion that the beliefs of every individual were the arena where the drama of salvation unfolded must have been exhilarating in a society where individual freedom, regardless of class, was very limited. Furthermore, the idea that individual belief not only mattered, but was ‘the’ essence of human existence and the only measure for salvation, 81 must have been an inspiring insight. For the first time in Western history what each individual believed was crucial. We can only imagine the great impact that this encounter must have caused in the Roman mind. On the other hand, Judaism was too alien, demanding, and idiosyncratic for most. ‘Selling’ Judaism to the Romans would have necessitated a multidimensional overhaul of Roman society and was destined to fail. Paul understood that Judaism’s customs and traditions were a stumbling block on the path to bringing the Pagan masses to righteousness.128 Similar to the Muslim, Hindu, and Parsee religions, first-century Judaism was a wideranging worldview of prescriptions and regulations that governed the totality of individual and community life.129 Although (mostly) respectful of Judaism and intrigued by it, most Romans would not embrace it. My reading emphasizes Paul’s confrontation with fellow Jewish followers of Jesus and their Gentile sympathizers. What incenses Paul is the opposition of some among the founding fathers to his de-Judaized interpretation of Jesus’s legacy. What ‘they’ (the Jerusalem leadership and their Gentile sympathizers) ‘reject’ and ‘do not understand’ is not belief in Jesus, but Paul’s version of it. Contrary to the traditional view (Paul’s theology as grounded in his theological confrontation with establishment Judaism),130 I see the integrity of the Jesus movement and its fidelity to Torah as the central issues at stake.131 Since Paul was expecting an imminent second coming (Rom. 8:18) it seems that his ministry was not aimed at the creation of a new religion. Nonetheless, in retrospect, we can see that Paul’s ministry was the beginning of a new religion that developed ambivalent attitudes towards Jews and Judaism. Both may have been unintended. As to the Jewish dimension, I see no clash between the historical Paul and mainstream Judaism. Paul’s confrontation was with the Jewish leadership of the Jesus movement,132 not with ‘external’ Jews.133 It seems to me that what Gentile followers of Paul did or did not do would be of no interest to mainstream first-century Jews – unless Paul acted against Torah observance among Jews or attempted to lure Jews away from Torah observance. However, being a Jew, Paul’s actions would be subject to strict scrutiny. According to Paul, he was flogged five times (2 Cor. 11:24). This type of sentence was dispensed in extreme circumstances, that is, when 82 individuals violated sacred boundaries. Paul’s words and activities suggest that he did attempt to lure Jews and God fearers134 away from Judaism. We have noted that Jews and Jewish followers of Jesus accused Paul of luring Jews away from the Torah, and we learn from Paul’s letters and from Acts that Paul proselytized to Jews (Rom. 7:1–5; Gal. 4:21–29; 1 Cor. 9:20–22; Acts 18:4 and 21:21).135 Paul’s evangelizing among Jews would be perceived as threatening Jewish identity and integrity. This behavior would have led him to conflict with Jews everywhere. Furthermore, Paul’s attacks on Torah observance and on Judaism while addressing mixed audiences may have become common knowledge, would be opposed by the Jewish faction, and would have triggered retaliation.136 I am not fully convinced either that Paul’s anti-Judaic and anti-Law statements can be explained solely as rhetorical techniques or as limited to Gentile audiences. A ‘non-anti-Jewish’ Paul may fit modern sensibilities and minds but may have little in common with the first-century charismatic and exclusivist Paul.137 Moreover, and unfortunately, since literal readings of Paul tend to yield an anti-Jewish Paul, the arguments that support the revised Paul may feel counterintuitive, complex, and inaccessible to lay audiences. The existence of a relatively good relationship between Paul and the Jerusalem leadership, as portrayed by Acts (J. B. Lightfoot, Köstenberger, Schnabel, and Bauckham), is countered by the argument that the Acts rendition is an attempt to cover up the tensions (The Tubingen school— Bauer, Robinson, Koester, and Dunn)138 as indicated in (Acts 15:1; 21:20– 21; Gal 2:11–14; 5:1–12). Due to the circumstantial nature of his Epistles, each student of Paul has to assign to this extraordinary figure a center of gravity, a defining focal center. In Galatians Paul is beyond himself with fury and resentment at ‘those from James.’ Therefore, those that emphasize Galatians tend to see anger, resentment, estrangement and conflict. In Romans (9–11, 11:1) Paul is introducing himself to Roman believers. Therefore, those that emphasize Roman tend to see maturity, thoughtfulness, and reflection. We have seen that the supporters of the ‘revised’ Paul contend that the traditional understanding of Paul as anti-Jewish stems from a misinterpretation by Paul’s followers. For them the question is whether the 83 anti-Judaism is truly Paul’s own or whether it belongs to the interpretative assumptions of his readers. Indeed, Stendahl, Gaston, Gager, and E. P. Sanders emphasize that the process that led to the canonization of the Pauline letters has also determined a polemical reading of them in subsequent orthodox theology. Regardless of one’s understanding of Paul,139 his (intended or unintended) legacy was understood by his immediate followers to be one of ambivalence toward Jesus’s disciples, toward Torah observance, and toward Judaism. Both factions of Pauline followers (Paulines and Marcionites) were very close to Paul in time, location, and predisposition. It is interesting that they, who probably knew him best, considered him the apostle of the rejection of Judaism. How far can the leader’s ideas be from those espoused by his immediate and most fervent followers? Was Paul misunderstood and misinterpreted by his immediate theological descendants, as put forward by supporters of a non-anti-Jewish Paul? Whether a true interpretation of Paul’s thinking or not, we will see that as the confrontation with the Jewish faction and its Gentile sympathizers unfolds, anti-Judaic sentiment became endemic among Paul’s followers. Paul's immediate successors, and maybe some of his contemporaries, used his epistles to discredit Jesus' Jewish followers (who for the most part seem to have demanded that Gentile followers of Jesus obey the Torah). Consequently, in an effort to legitimize the rejection of the Torah and to challenge the leadership of the movement, Pauline believers will develop a polemical arsenal whose original aim was to discredit the Jewish followers of Jesus. My understanding of Paul emphasizes a conflict with the Jerusalem leadership over his interpretation of Jesus’s legacy, his marginal standing among them, the rejection of his claims to direct revelation and to authority (if aware of them) and his luring of Jews away from the Law.140 I am inclined to think that the founding fathers of the Jesus movement wanted to remain a sect within Judaism. Paul, on the other hand, attempted to craft a rationale for a Gentile, and de-Judaized, strand of belief in Jesus. Paul was a charismatic theologian who laid down the foundations of the Christian edifice as-we-know-it. He was the pivot and the trendsetter who paved the pathway that led his Gentile followers to a religion, distinct and separate from the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of Jesus’s 84 disciples and first followers. Paul was a visionary who was driven by great emotional stamina, militancy, enthusiasm, and a deep personal yearning for recognition and legitimacy. Overall, to me, Paul comes out high on theological creativity and synthesis, high on polemical skills, problematic on consistency, ambivalent in his attitude toward the Torah.141 Paul is the most intriguing persona in the New Testament, a theological thinker, an enigmatic itinerant visionary, a grassroots organizer, and a turf nurturer and protector. Paul’s trajectory, from a rather extreme and enthusiastic persecutor of the Jewish followers of Jesus, to his extreme and militant defense of a de-Judaized mission to the Gentiles, point to an extreme personality. He is willful, gutsy, temperamental, and explosive. Paul was a theological and rhetorical innovator and a polemical acrobat - as well as the dominant, most engaging and enigmatic character of the New Testament.142 [+pg 68] 85 86 *The New Testament and Qumran The Qumranites,143 similar to other Judean sectarians,144 saw themselves as the only lawful holders of the covenant with YHWH.145 The members of the community understood themselves to be ‘the true Israel,’ living apart from the rest of Israel, which is seen as wicked and sinful.146 The Qumran sect blights those outside the sect as ‘the congregation of traitors’ (CD 1.12). The adversaries in the Thanksgiving Hymns are: ‘an assembly of deceit, and a horde of Satan’ (2.2.2). In the War Rule: they are ‘the company of the sons of darkness, the army of Satan’ (CD 1.1) – anticipating, and the probably the quarry of Pauline polemic. The Qumran community is the clearest example of a ‘sect’ (in the modern sense of the word) within first-century Judaism. Its distinctiveness has become more apparent as the more sectarian of the Dead Sea Scrolls (from Cave 4) have been published, showcasing strong predestinarian, dualistic, and mystical themes and motifs. The community evidently regarded itself as an alternative to the Jerusalem Temple priestly elite (hence its withdrawal to the wilderness), determined membership by reference to its own understanding and interpretation of Scripture, and applied strict rules for novitiate and continuing membership (1QS 5–9). Most like the earliest Jesus movement in its sense of divine grace (1QS 11; 1QH) and eschatological fulfillment and anticipation (IQpHab, IQSa, 1QM), it was distinct from the former in a strict application of purity rules and discipline.147 I Enoch and Jubilees provide us additional windows into the worldview of Jewish sectarian communities. I Enoch scourges fellow Jews and presents the world in sharp binary contrasts: ‘sinners/irreverent’ on one side, ‘righteous/pious’ on the other (1.1, 7–9; 5.6–7). Daniel and I Enoch 87 contributed to the substantial apocalyptic literature that we encounter in the late Second Temple period and had a definitive impact on messianic imagery among Jews (the son of man - a primordial being who would preside over a final Judgment and would usher in the resurrection of the faithful)148 and later among early believers in Jesus. Dualism is another possible link between the early Jesus movement and the Judean sectarian milieu. ‘Two Ways’ is the designation given by scholars to a worldview that surfaced during the two centuries prior to the turn of the era and that, for the first time in Jewish history, saw this world as a battleground between the forces of good and evil. The Two Ways theology resonates with the later Gnostic understanding of this world as dominated by evil and suffering; the creation of an evil God. It also resonates with Zoroastrian dualism that preceded it and may have influenced Judaism during the Persian era. The resentful, righteous, and militant posturing of Judean sectarians is oftentimes intertwined with the Two Ways material. The juxtaposition of ‘good—evil,’ ‘us—them,’ ‘sons of light—sons of darkness,’ which we encounter among some Gentile believers in Jesus, may have originated in the sectarian-separatist posture of the descendants of the Jewish founders and in the Two Ways mindset developed by Judean sectarians, most notably at Qumran.149 Dead Sea Scrolls research has yielded insights that we may harness in our excursion to identify the cultural and religious traditions and antecedents that the New Testament authors may have used to fashion their accounts of Jesus’s ministry. Knohl150 argues the intriguing possibility that Jesus knew himself to be the Messiah, and expected to be rejected, killed, and resurrected—based on the antecedent of the Messiah from Qumran. Moreover, in Qumeran’s Self-Glorification Hymn we see a combination of divine or angelic status, and of suffering, not previously known outside the Jesus story. The author describes himself in the image of the suffering servant in Isaiah 53, an imagery that was later emulated-incorporatedappropriated by early Gentile believers in Jesus.151 88 Overall, I see strong similarities, parallels, and resonances between the texts found in Qumran and the earliest strata of the New Testament, pointing to a significant connection whose observable elements will surface throughout our inquiry. This understanding of the affinities between some New Testament texts and the Judean sectarian milieu diverges somewhat from the consensus among scholars.152 The current consensus seems to be moving away from dependence and tends to tone down the importance of continuity. A minority of New Testament scholars see significant affinity between Paul’s theology and the Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls, and little affinity between Jesus and his disciples, and Qumran.153 According to D. Flusser (a minority view) there existed a stratum of thought that was influenced by sectarian ideas, and John the Evangelist, Paul, and the authors of some NT Epistles based themselves on the theological achievements of this stratum.154 The similarities, parallels, and resonances between the texts found at Qumran and the earliest, and Jewish, strata of the New Testament: a. The earliest (and Jewish) followers of Jesus, similar to the Qumranites155 and other Jewish sectarians would have perceived themselves as the only rightful holders of the covenant with YHWH156 and understood themselves to be ‘the true Israel,’ living apart from the rest of Israel, which is seen as wicked and sinful. b. The Pesher (Hebrew for ‘meaning’) method allows biblical passages to be interpreted as addressing present circumstances, not the original historical context in which they were first written. The Pesher exegetical method (Typology) was unique to Qumran and was emulated-appropriated by Pauline believers. c. The main Pesher texts in Qumran are of the prophetic books Habakkuk, Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, Nahum, and the book of Psalms, which are also popular typological texts in the New Testament.157 d. In the Qumran library, the most attested and most important biblical books are Deuteronomy, Isaiah, and Psalms. These are also central in the New Testament. e. Both Qumran and some early believers in Jesus followed a charismatic leader and considered themselves communities of the 89 f. g. h. i. j. k. l. m. n. ‘chosen,’ guided by divine revelation, existing between the powers of good and evil. The arguments, attitudes, language, and imagery deployed by the Pauline faction against the establishment of the Jesus movement seem to emulate the arguments, attitudes, language, and imagery that Jewish sectarians, most notably Qumran, deployed against the Jewish establishment. Except for the Qumran community, there was no antecedent for the survival of a messianic sect after the death of its leader.158 Following Jesus’s death, the Qumran community (having survived the death of The Teacher of Righteousness) may have offered a template to follow. The Qumran Messiah was believed to have resurrected after three days and his second coming was anticipated. Jesus’s suffering, death, and resurrection after three days suggest that his followers may have used the pre-existing template of this messianic predecessor, the suffering servant of the Dead Sea Scrolls.159 Qumran, contrary to mainstream Judaism, believed in continued revelation beyond the biblical prophets, a theological stance present in the New Testament. Both communities had a sense of divine grace (1QS 11; 1QH) and eschatological fulfillment and anticipation (IQpHab, IQSa, 1QM). An end-of-times and earth-shattering battle is described in the War Scroll, in the Rule of the Congregation IQSa, and in Revelation.160 The ‘new covenant,’ of great significance to Qumran (CD 6:19; 8:21; 20:12; IQpHab 2:3f.), is also a central theme in the New Testament (cf. Rom. 7:1–6; Gal. 3:23–25; Heb. 8:1–15, 8:6–13, 10). However, Qumran reads Jeremiah 31:31–34 as emphasizing renewal, the NT as emphasizing replacement.161 The covenant, as a result of the intervention of an extraordinary individual,162 is the possession of the community and not those outside it, who have forfeited their right to it through their sins. Dualism and the Two Ways imagery163 are present in Qumran’s Community Rule (I QS 3.13–4.16) and in the New Testament (mostly Paul and John).164 Qumran’s world is divided into good and evil. ‘Sons of light’ imagery occurs in The War Scroll in Qumran, and in John 12:38 and 1 Thessalonians 5:5. In Qumran’s Self-Glorification Hymn the author describes himself in the image of the suffering servant in Isaiah 53, an imagery that was 90 o. p. q. r. s. t. u. later emulated-incorporated-appropriated by early Gentile believers in Jesus. Both Qumran and early believers in Jesus distanced themselves from the official Jewish sacrificial system and considered the priesthood unqualified and sacrilegious. Celibacy, disapproved of in Judaism, was practiced by some Essenes and was idealized by early Paulines. Polygamy and divorce, approved by first-century Judaism, were forbidden by both communities. Similar to some early communities of believers in Jesus, Qumran led a communal lifestyle with communal meals and no personal possessions. Ritual immersion for the removal of ritual impurity was normative for first-century Jews, but Qumran and the New Testament present something new: immersion as an initiation rite (baptism). The most probable influence on Hebrews’ priesthood of Melchizedek seems to be IQMelchizedek discovered at Qumran Cave 11,165 although Attridge instructs us of other instances of Melchizedek speculation (Philo, the fragmentary Nag Hammadi tractate Melchizedek [NHC 9, 1], 2 Enoch, and 3 Enoch).166 Both communities lived in anticipation of an eminent end of times and a final judgment. The pitch is militant and resentful, as we would expect from separatist and self-righteous groups. John the Baptist and Jesus ministered within walking distance from Qumran,167 at a time when the community seems to have been active, pointing to a plausible connection. In regard to Pesher exegesis (item b) it is important to emphasize that it is highly unlikely that early Pauline believers in Jesus, mostly recent converts from Paganism, developed on their own the typological interpretation of a religious tradition alien to them. Consequently, the use of typology is one of the strongest indications that Pauline believers emulated-appropriated a number of Qumran traditions and peculiarities. The emulation of this exegetical idiosyncrasy by early Gentile believers in Jesus is one of many hints that Judean sectarian lore, views, and traditions migrated to a Gentile setting (most probably) through the agency of Jesus’s disciples and first followers or their descendants. 91 However, despite the substantial evidence for a link between Qumran and the early Jesus movement, we should be cautious about its interpretation. The availability of large numbers of Qumran texts, compared to other sectarian communities, may cause us to overstate this connection. Rather, we should contemplate the possibility that this evidence may be indicative of a connection between the early, and pre-Gentile, Jesus movement with the general Judean sectarian milieu (Qumran being a specific example of this broader phenomenon). It seems to be the case that the Qumran sect and the pre-Gentile Jesus movement were contemporaneous sectarian Jewish streams, accounting for the similarities we have encountered. In summary, the parallels between the Judean sectarian milieu and the New Testament are too numerous and too substantial to be set aside and point to a significant and important connection. Although none of the similarities and parallels would be (by itself) conclusive proof of a nexus, their cumulative impact should tilt the balance toward the view that Pauline believers in Jesus inherited-appropriated many Qumran-like peculiarities. Since we do not have any indication of direct contact between Gentile believers in Jesus and Qumran, we must assume that Jesus’s disciples and first followers (who were Jewish sectarians with, plausibly, significant affinities and similarities with Qumran) are the most likely agents of the migration of lore and self-perception to non-Jews. 92 *The James Enigma Introduction Jewish-Gentile fellowship The historical James The canonical James Major themes and addressees James and Jesus James and Peter James and Paul James and Judaism James’ theology and ethics My James Introduction+ During the last decades, the epistle of James has attracted considerable scholarly interest. A bibliography of several hundred articles and monographs is now available to those interested in this short but enigmatic, and challenging text. The increased interest stems from a surge in the quest for the historical James,168 his beliefs, his role within the Jesus movement, and the study of his relationships and views vis-à-vis those of the other central figures of early Jesus movement; Jesus, Paul and Peter. The James revival is also associated with the growing awareness about the Jewish grounding of the epistle and of the early Jesus movement. 169 As Christian scholarship and theology have gravitated to a more comfortable embrace of the Jewish grounding of the early Jesus movement, 170 and of the diversity of early belief in Jesus, interest in the earliest layers of the tradition has been on the rise. 93 Although the composition of James is attributed by most to a second century author or community, there seems to be a consensus that its theology, ethics and Torah observance emanate from the earliest strata of the lore. The epistles of James and Jude, Q (The Q source is believed to be, by most scholars, the oldest material of the tradition, is extant in Mark, Matthew and Luke, and is usually dated about 50 CE.)171 and the M (the unique material associated with the author of Matthew),172 are among the traces of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement that survived the Pauline hegemony over the shaping of the canon. Their survival, and the dissonance between these materials and the rest of the Pauline corpus, eventually triggered, facilitated and enabled the growing embrace of the diversity of the early Jesus movement. The Jewishness of James’ epistle seems now obvious, given that ‘the essence of the Judaism of the epistle of James is similar to the Judaism of the pre-rabbinic period.’173 Eusebius (mid-fourth century) informs us that James was a disputed text, unknown to many earlier writers, and is not mentioned in the Muratorian Canon.174 The epistle was canonized following its inclusion in Athanasius’s suggested canon (367 ce). The Pseudo-Clementine traditions that emphasize the authority of James do not know anything about this important document.’175 Given this background, it is important to query the epistle’s inclusion in the canon: first, it is plausible that by the time the canonization process gained momentum, the Epistle of James was authoritative and, similar to Matthew, could not be excluded. Second, a pro-Torah observance and socially subversive text in the canon would be unacceptable to Paulines, unless it was believed to have been authored by Jesus’ brother. Third, we have some evidence that constituencies with affinities to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers remained influential throughout the fourth century (Pro-Jewish and pro-Torah texts and sources in the New Testament: Q, the M material in Matthew, and James. Outside the NT: The Didache, and the Pseudo-Clementine literature)176 At the time of canonization literacy was minimal, access to the texts was limited, and the perceived danger of inclusion was low. Therefore, we may tentatively conclude that the inclusion of this problematic text, which advocated Torah observance, did not mention Paul's teaching on faith in 94 Jesus’ death and resurrection, and was antagonistic to wealth and power, was deemed less damaging than its exclusion. Until the 20th century, the epistle was shunned by many early theologians and scholars177 due to its advocacy of Torah observance and deeds, an uncomfortable challenge to Pauline orthodoxy. Famously, Luther disliked the epistle due to its lack of Christology and its focus on Torah observance,178 and sidelined it to an appendix. 179 For many centuries, Athanasius strategy of incorporate-but-subvert problematic traditions proved successful: James’ divergence from orthodoxy did not cause major problems to the Church and for the most part, until modern times, the epistle was relegated to benign disregard. ‘Modern scholarly study of James has also been overshadowed, until quite recently, by a strong tendency to read James in the light of Paul, leading not only to depreciation of James by scholars with strongly Pauline theological predilections, but also to a serious failure to appreciate the distinctive characteristics and qualities of James's letter in their own right.’ 180 Although the epistle of James derives its legitimacy from the founders and is vested with the authority of James, we must query whether it escaped Pauline editing given its survival within the Pauline corpus. Recent readings that divest the Pauline hegemony over the discourse have begun to re-place the epistle and the historical James in a more accurate historical context; the early and Jewish grounding of the Jesus movement.181 During the last decades, the epistle has been subjected to a variety of inquiries and new methodologies and has been read from multiple perspectives, yielding an appreciation for its historical, theological and sociological importance. Since the 1960s, rhetorical criticism, textualredaction criticism, and literary and structuralist strategies have paved the way to new insights on the epistle. Koester H. (1965) and Kloppenborg J. (1987) are widely recognized for bringing about the pivot from emphasis on James as wisdom literature, to focus on an apocalyptic and pre-Gentile context of the earlier layers of James. Later studies strengthened this recent appreciation for the preGentile foundations of Q, M, and James.182 Outside the New Testament, traces of the Jewish followers of Jesus are to be found in the extra-canonical Jewish Gospels (Nazoraeans, Ebionites),183 in the Didache184 and in the 95 Pseudo-Clementine literature.185 These texts are not focused on Jesus’ death and resurrection and either advocate, or seem to advocate, Torah observance. In addition to earlier works, students of James now benefit from a growing number of quality individual and collaborative commentaries published during the 21st century. Among the latest individual works we find Popkes (2001), Hartin (2004); Blomberg and Kamell (2008), McCartney (2009), McKnight (2011), Painter and deSilva (2015), and Allison (2015). Noteworthy recent collaborative surveys include Chilton B., and J. Neusner The Brother of Jesus: James the Just and his Mission (2001), Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005), Webb, Robert L., and John S. Kloppenborg, eds. Reading James with New Eyes: Methodological Reassessments of the Letter of James (2007), and van de Sandt, Huub and Zangenberg, eds. Matthew, James, and Didache (2008). Jewish-Gentile fellowship+ Jewish-Christian fellowship within the Jesus movement is a complex issue that surfaces in various configurations throughout this survey. As we move forward in time and engage the texts before us in approximate chronological sequence, we will follow the evolution and the manifestations of this relationship. Our discussion here will focus on two events: The crisis at Antioch - Acts 15:1,5 and Gal 2:11-14, and Paul's visits to Jerusalem Gal 1:18-20 and Acts 9:26-30, Gal 2:1-10 and Acts 15:1-19, 28-29. The crisis at Antioch186 - Antioch was the center of the Seleucid kingdom until 64 BCE, when it was annexed by Rome and made the capital of the province of Syria. It became the third largest city of the Roman Empire in size and importance (after Rome and Alexandria). The city was the headquarters of the Roman garrison in Syria, whose principal duty was the defense of the empire’s eastern border from Persian attacks. Antioch was also one of the earliest centers of belief in Jesus; it was there that followers of Jesus were first called Christians, and the city was the headquarters of Paul’s early mission. 96 During or following the Jewish War of 70 ce, some among the Jewish followers of Jesus fled to Pella while others went to Antioch (to which refugees from earlier persecution had fled, and where they had established a significant community (Acts 11:19-20) which, at first, was Torah observant and accepted the leadership of the Jewish followers of Jesus in Jerusalem (Acts 11:28)187 It is commonly assumed that when these refugees arrived to Antioch they brought with them their lore; a collection of sayings of Jesus that was later incorporated into the canonical Matthew and is commonly designated as M. The M material, unique to Matthew, originated in the lore of the pre-Gentile Jesus movement that has left textual traces in James and Matthew. According to Streeter188 the M tradition originated in Jerusalem and reflects the authority of James who is a strong advocate of the Law (the righteousness of believers must exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees). The Q document is believed to be, by most scholars, the oldest material of the tradition, is extant in Mark, Matthew and Luke, and is usually dated about 50 CE. Q’s existence has been inferred. No actual Q document, in full or in part, has survived. Q is mostly a collection of Jesus’s sayings. It is unclear where the Q tradition originated though it was used by Mark and Matthew and written in Aramaic.189 The Greek translation of Q, which Streeter dates around 50 C.E., is seen by many as the original Gospel of Antioch.190 However, it seems to me, that given geographical proximity and the affinity between these communities, we should assume that the lore of the communities of followers of Jesus at Jerusalem and Antioch were substantially homogeneous, and would include M and Q. During the late first century, the community at Antioch (originally mostly Jewish and Torah observant)191 was experiencing the impact of a large influx of non-Jewish converts. It seems that the majority of these Pagan converts where of Pauline affiliation and inclination, but it is plausible that other forms of Gentile belief in Jesus were also represented at Antioch. Painter posits that the missions to the Gentiles and to the Jews at Antioch were divided into six factions. The factions of the circumcision mission broadly fit the description of the first of two types of Jewish believers distinguished by Justin (Dial. 47). At Antioch, up to the arrival of the emissaries from James (Gal 2:11-14) there seems to have been some degree of fellowship between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus. Historically, most scholars have agreed that the 97 issue at the core of the incident at Antioch was table fellowship:192 In Gal 2:12 Paul writes about Peter’s role in the Antioch incident: for until certain people came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But after they came, he drew back and kept himself separate for fear of the circumcision faction. The current academic discussion seems to center on whether the arguments behind the table fellowship episode where about ritual or moral purity, and whether the underlying dislocations where mostly theological or socioethnic. Peter’s withdrawal from table fellowship with Gentiles was understood by traditional scholarship to be due to the incompatibility of Jewish food traditions with Gentile eating practices. Recently, moral impurity claims have been the focus of several studies, an emphasis that seems to have gained the center stage. Claims of moral impurity may have surfaced due to Gentile participation in sacrifices to the Roman Gods, a requirement on all inhabitants of the Roman empire – from which Jews, including the Jewish followers of Jesus were exempt.193 Significantly, Paul seems to acknowledge that moral impurity is the issue and is concerned about the purity status of Gentile believers in Jesus (Gal. 2:14-17 and 1 Cor. 6:11).194 Given that avoidance of idolatry,195 and of the foods associated with Pagan sacrifices, was a central demand of the Apostolic decree (Acts 15:20, 29; 21:25)196 and are connected to moral impurity in Jewish tradition, table fellowship would be unacceptable to the founding fathers.197 ‘This boundary is of paramount importance for the men from James, but it is important because it was thought to protect Jews from the contaminating influence of the idolatry and immorality thought to pervade Gentile society. Ignoring the boundary is likely to lead into actual sin.’198 Furthermore, if moral impurity was indeed the central issue, ‘…according to James, and despite Paul’s efforts to turn morally impure non-Jews into purified worshippers of the God of Israel, intimate contact between Jews and non-Jews still constituted a threat to the moral purity of the Jewish followers of Jesus. 98 In this situation, where close social relations between Jews and non-Jews already existed, James may have concluded that this could only continue if non-Jews were turned into Jews. Thus, from these assumptions, the rationale behind James’s course of action in Antioch was his rejection of Paul’s way of dealing with the moral impurity problem.’199 If Acts’ rendition of the Apostolic decree (Acts 15:20, 29; 21:25) is historical, and if the common interpretation of it (granting equal status to the mission to the Gentiles)200 is sustainable, the participation of some Gentile believers in Jesus in Pagan sacrifices would have violated James’ directive. If emissaries from James appeared in Antioch requiring circumcision of nonJews (Gal 2:12)201 it would have contradicted the Apostolic Decree (Acts 15:20, 29; 21:25)202 as traditionally understood. However, a demand requiring circumcision of non-Jews as a condition for table fellowship may reflect James’ position on this subject – and may be a clarification of the decree. Some scholars see the demand as reflective of a reversal of James’ previous position, or as reflective of the existence of a conservative faction among the Jewish followers of Jesus who opposed the decree and required Torah observance from non-Jews.203 Implementation of James’ stricter guidelines as to table fellowship would have led to Jewish-Gentile segregation at Antioch. It seems that estrangement between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus did indeed fester and intensify, feeding rancor and animosity - although visibility as to the aftermath of this event is low. Whether the incident at Antioch was historical or symbolic, we have little evidence about its impact on Antioch’s community. Nonetheless, it is reasonable to assume an escalation of tensions between Gentile and Jewish followers of Jesus from that point forward. It is noteworthy that the resentment that must have accompanied the estrangement between Gentile followers of Paul and the founding faction at Antioch (and elsewhere) would have fueled the polemical sentiment that we encounter in the lore. James’ apparent victory at Antioch seems to have temporarily strengthened the Torah observant mission.204 We know, however, that the influx of Gentile converts will gradually lead to a growing Gentile majority and to Pauline ascendance in the city during the second century,205 and to the first 99 Gentile bishop there (Ignatius). This incident has been understood as a turning point in relations between Jewish and Gentile believers at Antioch. The crisis in Antioch has attracted much scholarly attention due to the fact that it exemplifies and encapsulates the core issues behind the estrangement between the Jewish followers of Jesus and the Gentile followers of Paul. According to Pauline orthodoxy, this crisis also reflects and epitomizes a divergence between James’ and Peter’s views on Torah observance. However, it is unclear whether the cryptic information available to us justifies the edifice that Pauline theology has erected on it. If historical, Peter’s table fellowship with Gentiles may reflect a more accommodating and flexible personal attitude toward Gentiles, rather than a rigorous and thought-trough theology that advocates a non-Torah observant mission to the Gentiles – as claimed by Pauline orthodoxy. Peter, whose persona was appropriated by the de-Judaizing camp to stand as a compromise between James and Paul, has been cast by orthodoxy as the embodiment of the via media, the compromise creed championed by the Paulines.206 Paul's visits to Jerusalem – Tensions at Antioch and elsewhere, about the salvation status of non-Jews, may have led to the apostolic council. Acts 15: 1-2 informs us that the core issue at the Jerusalem council between Paul and the leaders of the Jesus movement was whether Gentiles had to observe the mandates of the Torah. In Acts 15: 28-29 James responds to Paul’s request to legitimize his mission to the Gentiles by implying that Paul’s followers were to comply with four mandates: 28 For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to impose on you no further burden than these essentials: 29 that you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from fornication. If you keep yourselves from these, you will do well. Farewell. This cryptic statement leaves many unanswered questions as to fellowship between Jews and Gentiles in the Jesus movement, and we must question whether James intended that compliance with these minimalistic 100 requirements would suffice for Gentile membership in the New Israel, the new people of God.207 Unfortunately, the meaning and implications of ‘If you keep yourselves from these, you will do well.’ was left open to interpretation. It seems to me that for James, full Torah observance was a requirement for acceptance to the Jesus movement and to becoming rightful believers in Jesus. To James (and to most first century Jews) the four mandates of Acts 15:28-29 and the Noahide laws were variants of minimal ethical behavior guidelines for all non-Jews, whether Pagans or Gentile believers in Jesus – but would not confer membership in God’s people. Furthermore, and unfortunately, we do not have anywhere in the New Testament a reliable clarification of James’ views on the relative standing and relationship of the missions to the Jews and to the Gentiles. James’ ruling at the council on the inclusion of Gentiles seems to have been either unclear, incomplete, insufficient or dysfunctional – and seems to have disintegrated upon contact with reality on the ground. Furthermore, it is noteworthy that the epistle of James ‘… never alludes to the existence of Gentile Christians (and can discuss the law and the relationship of faith and works with no reference to the controversies around these topics that the conversion of Gentiles to the Christian message provoked)’208 The discrepancies regarding the first visit have the most far-reaching consequences.209 Whether James bestowed upon Paul’s mission to the Gentiles equal standing to the Torah observant mission to the Jews, and whether (and under what circumstances) fellowship between the parties was allowed – are open questions that were not addressed by Acts. ‘That Paul does not harken back to the accord in the debate with Cephas indicates that he knew there was more than one way to read the accord.’210 According to Acts, a Pauline perspective, following the breakdown of the accord Paul accused Cephas of hypocrisy because he had not lived consistently as a Jew himself and yet was attempting to compel Gentiles to live as Jews Gal (2:1114). … Paul's criticism was aimed at the Jerusalem position of demanding circumcision and law observance if there was to be full fellowship between Jewish and Gentile 101 believers. That is the point of the withdrawal of table fellowship.’211 In summary, it is plausible that at first, the Gentile mission and the Jamesian circumcision law-keeping party coexisted with some degree of fellowship.212 At first, Gentiles may have joined the Torah observant synagogues of the Jewish followers of Jesus, but due to increasing alienation between Jews and Gentiles within the Jesus camp – they seem to have seceded amidst great resentment, and established separate and non-Torah observant communities. Whether historical or symbolic, Peter’s withdrawal from table fellowship with Gentiles did become emblematic of the parting of the ways between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus, and the subject of a vast literature. Belief in Jesus outside of Judea was becoming increasingly Gentile, and the Jewish faction gradually became a minority at Antioch. [+pg 79] The historical James James seems to have enjoyed great authority among the Jewish followers of Jesus. The James most believers are acquainted with emerges out of Gal. 1-2; 1 Cor. 15:7 and Acts 12, 15, 21. However, we have useful accounts about James in Josephus, Eusebius, Origen, the Gospel of Thomas, the Apocalypses of James, the Gospel of the Hebrews and the PseudoClementine literature - most of whom cast him as righteous and as the undisputed leader of the Jewish camp.213 His influence is central and palpable in Jerusalem and in Antioch, despite the fact that he did not minister at Antioch. Although we are dependent on sources dominated by the Pauline perspective, the role and influence of James overshadow all others at Antioch. Sources outside the ‘mainstream’ show that James remained the single most powerful figure among the Jewish followers of Jesus.214 To the proto-orthodox, intent on de-Judaizing belief in Jesus and uncomfortable with James’ demand for strict Torah observance, it was important to limit his role to legitimizing Paul’s mission to the Gentiles.215 Other than the Epistle of James, we do have a few pro-Jewish and proTorah observance segments in the New Testament (Mostly the Q source in Mark and the M material in Matthew). These seem to be, for the most part, appropriations and incorporations of the lore of the Jewish founders into texts authored or edited by Gentile believers. Whereas segments, that are 102 supportive of the character, traditions and beliefs of the Jewish founders, should be considered appropriations of the identity and lore of the Jewish faction by the emerging Pauline majority – James is unique in the canon by its explicit and wholehearted support of Torah-observance. Not only is this text a unique view into the milieu of the Jewish founders - its inclusion in the canon signals that as canonization begun (fourth century onward) Torah observance among believers in Jesus was still authoritative and could not be delegitimized by exclusion. It is noteworthy, that to the exclusion of Paul’s letters, the texts of the New Testament come from the period after the Jewish War. Following the Jewish War, and the decimation of the communities of believers in Jesus that accompanied it,216 the Torah observant traditions associated with Peter and James lost ground and were gradually subverted by the Pauline protoorthodox: ‘Apart from the Epistle of James, which has been subverted to appear as a General Epistle, there is no writing in the New Testament that takes the part of James… What had begun as a Jewish movement was now increasingly isolated from Judaism and James became increasingly identified with what was simultaneously Jewish and Gnostic. In the great church, though he was honored, his relationship to Jesus was interpreted in a way that distanced him from Jesus, and he was made subject to apostolic authority. For James the brother of Jesus, this path was truly a dead end.’217 The canonical text The debate about the authorship of the canonical text is inconclusive and parallels the debates about its Christology, and about the extent to which the text is informative regarding the beliefs of the historical James. The final text reflects second century Pauline influence on, or appropriation of, traditions emanating from the early (and Jewish) Jesus movement. Although few support direct authorship by James, many acknowledge the 103 text’s affinity to Torah observance, good deeds, and the traditions that emanated from the historical James. The earliest extant texts of the epistle date to the third century,218 necessitating scholarly debate as to authorship. A partial summary regarding the authorship of James: • Not authored by James, brother of Jesus - Dibelius and Greeven 1975; Laws 1980; Pratscher 1987; Burchard 2000; Popkes 2001; Edgar 2001 • The letter contains teachings coming from the historical James, but the final composition was later - Davids 1982; Martin 1988; Painter 1997; Walls 1997; Davids 1999; Byrskog 2000, 167-71; Evans 2001; Davids 2001; Chilton 2005; Painter and deSilva (2015) • Authorship by James - Hengel 1987; Adamson 1989; Johnson 1995; Bauckham 1999; Bauckham 2001; McKnight Scot 2011 Although James eventually became part of the NT, was subject to Pauline theological appropriation-subversion, may be suspect of Pauline editing, and was absorbed into the Pauline narrative – its grounding in the early and preGentile Jesus movement (and its affinity to the Q and M materials, its resonance with the Didache, and to the Pseudo-Clementine literature) are increasingly acknowledged by a growing number of scholars. Although these linkages are indications of a common, earlier and pre-Gentile layer, the epistolary greeting common in Pauline circles, and possible parallels with 1 Peter and the Shepherd of Hermes219 may reflect later incorporationappropriation into the Pauline corpus. If the epistle of James is a second century text originating in a community with affinities to the traditions emanating from the Jewish followers of Jesus, it may reflect their need to respond to the Pauline advocacy of non-Torah observance among Gentiles. However, if the existence of textual echoes between James, Paul and later Gentile authors220 (a minority view among current scholars) gains ground – a Gentile audience or a substantial Gentile layer in the evolution of the text may have to be posited. This evolutionary trajectory would be strengthened by the fact that the epistle’s Greek seems ornate and learned221 and its theology is alleged by some to echo Pauline themes and imagery.222 If this scenario gains the upper hand, it may indicate that a Gentile author was attempting to be inclusive toward the Jewish faction and/or was attempting 104 to fashion a text that would strengthen the Pauline claim to continuity with Jesus’ Jewish followers. Major themes, addressees, and context Martin Dibelius’s 1921 commentary on the Letter of James was very influential for well over half a century.223 Dibelius viewed James as paraenesis, a text which strings together admonitions of general ethical content.224 Influenced by Dibelius, most scholars saw no dominant theme grounding the letter. In twentieth century scholarship, the wisdom character of James was front and center. Recently, a possible eschatological background has received growing attention. Fine-tuning our understanding of the coexistence, symbiosis, and relationship between these elements is now a main concern.225 Most among recent scholars, including Hartin, Allison, McKnight, 226 Bauckham,227 and Painter argue that the intended addressees are Jewish, and that the epistle reflects the continuation of the mission to the Jews. Hartin supports Walter Bauer’s thesis that the Christian movement developed as ‘numerous independent Christian communities each with its own theologies and understandings’ and identifies James’ audience as a community with an eschatological outlook. 228 A recent strand of scholarship sees James as focused on the community of the poor, emphasizes his anti-establishment tone, and highlights his dispensation of misfortunes on community opponents.229 The addressees seem to be Jewish followers of Jesus, although it is plausible to claim that the epistle hopes to include Jewish non-believers in Jesus in its audience. Overall, to the exclusion of this reflection of the mission to the Jews, nothing in the epistle requires us to expand the horizon or the intended addressees of James’ epistle beyond a Jewish milieu. Some, including Dibelius, Cargal, and Wall see ‘the twelve tribes of the Dispersion’ (1:1) in the opening of the epistle as metaphorical and therefore open somewhat the door to inclusion of Gentiles in the intended audience. A detailed argument for the Jewish grounding and audience of the epistle has been made recently in Allison: 105 The strange truth is that, aside from 1:1 and the textually dubious 2:1, James, although certainly written by a believer in Jesus, explicitly says nothing distinctively Christian. It is as though the readers are neither assumed nor required to be members of the church themselves. The whole epistle rather stays within, or at least could be read within, a Jewish frame of reference. One modern scholar has opined that 'every sentence... could have been written by a protorabbi' (Sigal 1980:424). Readers of James often miss this, because, consciously or not, they are canonical readers, assuming that James must be saying what the New Testament says elsewhere, but he does not. He remains resolutely silent in remarkable ways, even when we would expect otherwise. 230 Much has been written about the main intent behind the authorship of this peculiar text. It seems to me that whereas the canonical text would appeal to Jewish audiences and to Gentile sympathizers with the founding faction, we can postulate that audiences affiliated with the Pauline mission would be unreceptive to it. The Jewishness of the messages and exhortations, the call for strict Torah observance, and the author’s silence on Jesus’ death and resurrection seem to preclude a Pauline audience for the earliest layer of the text. Proto-James seems to reflect a group of Jewish believers in Jesus still engaged in the mission to the Jews and attempting to battle those advocating non-observance of the Torah. James and Jesus Uncompromising ethical demands, Torah observance, and radical antiestablishment and anti-wealth are strikingly common to both, the teaching of Jesus (the M material in Matthew) and the Epistle of James.231 It seems that James follows Jesus’ ethical concerns. In M, the Sermon on the Mount, and the narrative of the rich young ruler, the teaching of Jesus assumes the obligation of charity.232 However, although the epistle is acknowledged by most as echoing Jesus,233 it has little to say about the historical Jesus, including about his death and resurrection.234 106 The James-Jesus juxtaposition is a proxy for the debate about James’ affinities with the pre-Gentile strata of the Jesus movement, to the inclusion of Q, and the M material in Matthew. James mentions the forgiveness of sins (5:15) but does not mention Jesus' atoning death, a clear indication that the context is not Pauline. Overall, James seems to fit the early, and Jewish, strata of belief in Jesus alongside Q and M.235 ‘The evidence of the Gospels suggests that James, in limiting his active role to the mission to the Jews, was consistent with the practice of Jesus…’236 James and Peter Petrine theology237 is a Pauline construct that stands on texts attributed to Peter and James238 and emerged during the second century. As the Pauline strand of belief in Jesus became increasingly influential, Peter’s Torah observant mission was appropriated, subverted and rendered pro-Pauline. Peter’s Torah observant emphasis239 was obscured and veiled, and he was transformed into a quasi-Pauline evangelist - the rock on which the Church’s Pauline evangelical impulse was to stand. Worded differently: In the light of the emergence of the Gentile mission Peter's position became more important and Acts obscures the leadership of James in order to portray the Jerusalem church in terms closer to Peter than James. The emergence of the leading role of Petrine tradition is imposed in the wake of the destruction of Jerusalem and the dispersal of the Jerusalem church.240 During their lifetimes, the preeminence of James is self-evident. However, Peter, head of the Torah-observant mission and more visible to Gentile audiences, eclipsed James in the Pauline narrative. Given the ambivalent attitude of Luke/Acts toward Paul, and persistent rumors about tensions between him and the Pillars, Peter’s more accommodating attitude toward Gentiles was harnessed and converted into a Pauline construct that advocated the supremacy of the Gentile mission to the Gentiles – facilitating the transformation of the Jesus movement into a Gentile and non-Jewish undertaking. 107 Further corroboration of the Pauline appropriation and distortion of Peter’s persona is to be found in the fact that Mark, writing a few decades earlier, aimed his choosiest polemical arrows at Peter. Indeed, throughout his gospel, and in line with the ancient tradition of denigrating the ancestors of one’s opponents, Mark disparages the Twelve Apostles, the special Three, and Peter. However, Peter is the recipient of the lion’s share of Mark’s arrows and seems to be the leader of those who are seen by Mark as his adversaries. Although a cautionary caveat about possible Pauline bias in the selection and content of canonical texts is always necessary, James and 2 Peter, to the extent that they are instructive about the historical figures ‘show a Peter and James growing apart, inhabiting two different worlds. The one remained in the Jewish-Christian world that would collapse with the war of 66-70 CE and never regain the importance that it had enjoyed before that time. The other left that world for the Graeco-Roman world and thus becomes part of the stream that would be the leading influence in the church in the successive decades and centuries.’241 The authors of 1 Peter and 2 Peter, in the footsteps of Luke-Acts, seem to have wanted belief in Jesus to be Pauline – but wished to distance themselves from the controversial Paul. It seems that placing Peter as the cornerstone of the Catholic Church was considered a safer and more conservative move. James and Paul The crisis at Antioch - Acts 15:1,5 and Gal 2:11-14 Paul's visits to Jerusalem - Gal 1:18-20 and Acts 9:26-30, Gal 2:1-10 and Acts 15:1-19, 28-29 Recent scholarship seems to have gravitated toward the view that the epistle of James reflects the views of the historical James. However, and significantly, there is a lack of consensus on the matter of the James-Paul relationship. We have already noted that James' preeminence in early Christianity is attested throughout and is showcased by the incident at Antioch (Acts 15:1,5 and Gal 2:11-14), the Apostolic decree (Acts 15:20, 29; 108 21:25) and James’ command to Paul to undergo the ceremony accompanying the Nazirite vow Gal 2:1-10 and Acts 15:1-19, 28-29.242 The majority of recent scholarship describe the relationship as adversarial, including Popkes,243 Edgar,244 Painter,245 Jackson-McCabe.246 A minority see it as compatible – Mitchell,247 McKnight.248 Chilton’s remarks on this matter are insightful and yield a different perspective: ‘Where Paul divided the Scripture against itself in order to maintain the integrity of a single fellowship of Jews and Gentiles, James insisted upon the integrity of Scripture, even at the cost of separating Christians from one another.’249 Jas 2:14-18 is a key passage that highlights another James-Paul dissonance (‘faith without deeds is dead’ versus ‘by faith alone’): ‘14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? 15 Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. 16 If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? 17 In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. 18 But someone will say, ‘You have faith; I have deeds.’ Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. Not surprisingly, scholars representing all possible methodologies, inclinations, affiliations, and predispositions have weighed-in on the debate about this segment. As anticipated in the introduction to this chapter, my reading of Jas 2:14-18 follows and supports my view on the Torah observance and self-segregation of the Jewish faction, and the resentment and estrangement it may have caused among Gentiles. Whether the author is the historical James (doubtful), or a later community associated with him, the segment seems to be targeting those favoring ‘faith without deeds.’ This is a plausible perception of Paul’s Law-free mission to the Gentiles – as seen from the perspective of the Jewish-founders, and a response to Pauline rhetoric on the matter (1 Corinthians 5-6 being the best known). Charity, an essential part of James’ emphasis on deeds, is not in any way optional. It is essential to faith. Paul, in contrast, views charity as voluntary. Furthermore, ‘…nowhere in the Pauline corpus is there a 109 reference to scriptures teaching tithing or other charitable giving. One assumes that this is because to do this would mean his returning to the Law, which would cost him his Christological base as well as undermine his argument about freedom from the law. It may show the reality of one's confession, but he never makes it essential to the reality's being there.’250 James and Judaism+ The M source within Matthew is widely acknowledged as a window into the way James, and the pre-Gentile Jesus movement, interpreted the teachings of Jesus. The M material, unique to Matthew, originated in the lore of the pre-Gentile Jesus movement that has left textual traces in James. We have noted that, according to Streeter,251 the M tradition originated in Jerusalem, and reflects the authority of James who is a strong advocate of the Law (the righteousness of believers must exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees).252 Although Pauline apologetics tends to engage each command and tradition separately, for Jews they are part, and inseparable from, Torah observance. James and Torah observance - According to some scholars James, Q, and the M Material in Matthew, the Didache, and the pseudo-Clementine literature reflect a similar ethos, ethical perspective, and stand on, or assume, Torah observance. James call to Torah observance (1:22-27) insures salvation (2:12-13, 14-26). Hartin is supportive of the focus on Torah observance (1999) compares these documents and concludes that they support faith through action and sees them as reflecting the milieu of the Jewish followers of Jesus (2008).253 Hub van de Sandt sees Matthew’s and James’ Torah observance reflected in a similar use of the Jewish Two Ways theme254 which is detectable in the Didache too (3:1–6).255 McKnight thinks that Torah observance is at the heart of James’s ethics.256 A strong message against those advocating the rejection of Torah observance characterizes, and emanates from, this tradition: Some have attempted while I am still alive, to transform my words by certain various interpretations, in order to teach the dissolution of the law; as though I myself were of such a mind, but did not freely proclaim it, which God forbid! For such a thing were to act in opposition 110 to the law of God which was spoken by Moses, and was borne witness to by our Lord in respect of its eternal continuance; for thus he spoke: ‘The heavens and the earth shall pass away, but one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass away from the law.’ (Matt 5:18).257 The Jewish followers of Jesus had to fight two fronts simultaneously: they defended the messiahship of Jesus vis-à-vis fellow Jews, and advocated Torah observance vis-à-vis fellow believers in Jesus. Paul’s followers do not keep the commandments and teach others to break them as well (Matt 5:19 and cf. Acts 21:21) and they are chastised for it. To some scholars, M and James seem to propose a more radical and demanding interpretation of the law than mainstream Judaism. However, we must keep in mind that the six antitheses of Matt 5:21-48 advocate a rigorous interpretation of the Law; they do not encourage breaking or dispensing with it. The antitheses seem to advocate an intensification of Torah observance and argue that Jesus’ followers are not only part of Judaism, but they are also more righteous and observant than their Jewish critics. James, the antitheses specifically, and the M material in general, may reflect a posture aimed to exalt belief in Jesus and to fend off claims from mainstream Jews who questioned the Jewishness of Jesus’ followers. ‘The antitheses set out the demand for greater righteousness. There is nothing here to suggest any relaxation of the demands of the law. Matthew may be going beyond, not going against, the biblical laws.’258 ‘No doubt James takes for granted his readers' observance of the whole law, while focusing his attention on its moral demands. There is no reason why a Palestinian Jew should not do this, especially if he were a disciple of Jesus, who also seems to have foregrounded the moral aspects of the Torah without negating others.’259 James and Works - Throughout the ages, mainstream Judaism has considered all the requirements of Torah observance as mandatory. Opinions diverged on implementation, and actual execution varied, but there was little argument as to what was required from observant Jews. James’ emphasis on deeds (works) derives from his emphasis on Torah observance, where the impetus for deeds originates. 111 James and the M material in Matthew are unique in the canon in their stand against the Pauline rejection of works and deeds. Given the Pauline traditional view of Judaism as legalistic and sinful, Judaism was often presented as divested of ethics and good deeds. In Pauline theology, the term ‘works´ has been divested of ethical grounding, is part of the terminology deployed to characterize Judaism as legalistic and is often used to divest Torah observance from its ethical grounding. However, for James and all Jews, faith is alive when it is reflected by Torah observance. In other words - what we believe in, demonstrates itself through practice and manifestation. For James, claims about belief are empty, unless they are alive in action, works and deeds.260 James’ theology and ethics - In James, the traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus and quotations from Hebrew Scripture enable the idea of wisdom as the way to perfection.261 James’ ethics and spirituality have been ably explored in recent studies.262 James does reflect a Jewish milieu and does emphasize the ethical teachings and requirements embedded in Torah observance. Although James’ focus on strict Torah observance must be assumed to include its derivative themes (Sabbath observance, dietary traditions, circumcision, deeds, charity etc.…), the focus on some subjects and the brevity of the epistle preclude engagement of all the traditional Jewish markers.263 One theme that is elaborated in detail is concern for the poor. The emphasis on the poor that characterizes the epistle (1:2-8, 2:8; cf. 1:22-25, 1:27; 1: 17-21, 2:12-13) is one aspect of the spiritually we encounter in the epistle that includes the spirituality of integrity, of friendship with God, of prayer, and of love of neighbor.264 The debate about the Christology of the epistle of James is inconclusive but seems to be tilting toward a consensus that acknowledges the predominance of a Torah observant theological outlook. Standing on Dibelius’ famous conclusion that the epistle has no specific theology,265 many scholars did not recognize the fact that Torah observance is embedded in (and is reflective of) a Jewish theological context. Recent scholarship seems to be gravitating toward assigning a pre-Gentile theological grounding to the text, coupled with the qualification that the author’s belief system is implied – rather than explicit. 112 Most agree that there is an emphasis on Torah observance which delineates the boundaries of the theological context. A minority detects an implied high Christology.266 Some scholars wrestle with James’ lack of Christology and attempt, by all means possible, to categorize the epistle as ‘Christian’ – despite the multiple meanings of the term and the confusion it engenders. My James+ In Acts 21 James tells Paul about the "many thousands" (21:20) among the Jews who have come to faith. Even if this was an overstatement, it is likely that there were a significant number of Jewish followers of Jesus in the first century. However, traditional scholarship has tended to obscure the existence of an active mission to the Jews, attempted to veil the Jewish origins of belief in Jesus, and emphasized ‘the Jewish rejection of Jesus’. During the twentieth century, initial progress was made toward the acknowledgement that a significant mission to the Jews existed beyond Jesus’ ministry. Recent scholarship has started to open the flood gates on this subject. Although the devastation of the Judean strongholds of the Jewish faction during the Jewish War of 70 CE. seems to have inflicted a significant blow to the activities of the mission to the Jews, evidence supportive of the continuity of the Jewish followers of Jesus and of their mission to the Jews well into the fourth century267 emerges from significant affinities and resonances between James, Q, the M material in Matthew, the Didache, the Pharisaic believers of Acts 15:1, 5, the Jewish followers of Jesus in Justin, Ignatius’ Jewish antagonists, the Gospel of the Ebionites, and Jewish echoes in the Didache and Pseudo-Clementines. The epistle of James seems to be a second century text that emanates from traditions associated with the historical James, reflects an active mission to the Jews, and aims at a wide Jewish audience. The historical ‘James looked to winning Jews to faith in Jesus the Messiah, who was to come again in judgement.’268 Given that the effort to legitimize Paul’s non-Torah observant mission to the Gentiles is central to the canonical corpus,269 we should be cautious about Acts’ renditions regarding the meetings in Jerusalem and the nature 113 and details of James’ blessing of a non-Torah observant mission to the Gentiles. The author of Luke/Acts, while crafting a narrative that would legitimize the de-Judaizing of the Jesus movement, the demotion of the founding fathers as the custodians of Jesus legacy, and the Pauline ascendancy - needed a transitional figure who would bestow upon the Pauline mission the authority inherent in Jesus’ disciples. The author of Luke/Acts first, and later Pauline authors in his wake, assigned that role to Peter and fashioned an apologetic persona that personifies the demotion and replacement of the Jewish followers of Jesus as the New Israel, the New People of Good. The Pauline faction needed a bridge between James and Paul to facilitate the transition from a leader affirming Torah observance, the Jewishness of belief in Jesus, and the preeminence of the Jewish followers of Jesus within the Jesus movement - to the Pauline view of a law-free mission as the true fulfillment and expression of Jesus’ ministry (Gal 2:15-21). In Pauline theology and lore, ‘Petrine Christianity’ is the vehicle that smooths and ushers-in the transition from Jesus’ and James’ Torah observance to Paul’s non-Torah observant mission. ‘James’ … ‘strategy was to preserve the mission to his own people. History proved his worst fears concerning the Pauline mission to be correct. The mission to the nations ensured the ultimate failure of the circumcision mission.’270 It seems that the rejection, by most Gentile believers in Jesus, of Torah observance and of the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by his first followers triggered a rejection of fellowship with Gentile believers that caused the outpour of anguish, resentment and rancor that permeates the Pauline lore. It seems that James’ blessing of the mission to the Gentiles, if historical, did not take into consideration its implications. Nowhere in the lore do we find any indication of James’ view on the future coexistence and relationship of the two missions. Acts, being an apologetic text, does not enlighten us on this issue either. Even if James’s and Acts’ accounts stand on historical ground, James could not have anticipated the momentous implications of his blessing. It seems that disappointment, frustration, resentment and anger came to characterize the first encounters between the Gentile followers of Paul and 114 the Jewish followers of Jesus in the public arena. It seems that Paul did not prepare these recently converted enthusiasts of Pagan background to the encounter with the Jewish followers of Jesus. It seems that the Jewish followers of Jesus were also unprepared for the consequences and implications of a massive influx of recent Pagan converts to Paul´s version of belief in Jesus. It seems plausible that, if historical, James´ blessing of Paul´s mission to the Gentiles did not anticipate the need to prepare both sides to the existence of two strands of belief in Jesus - one Jewish and Torah observant, the other Gentile and non-Torah observant. Given the lack of forethought among their leaders, these believers encountered each other unprepared, with catastrophic consequences. 115 116 *A Growing Tension+ Most early Gentile believers in Jesus were inhabitants of the Roman Empire and were culturally and ethnically diverse. Creedal confusion, organizational chaos, ceremonial improvisation, and religious experimentation were rampant.271 Therefore, it is not surprising that differing accounts of the life and ministry of Jesus were written during the first and second centuries, reflecting the transitional and tentative nature of this period. As Gentiles grew increasingly assertive in their opposition to the imposition of the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of the founding fathers, they began using Jesus’s life story, parables, epistles, homilies, and sermons to address questions and issues of concern to their rank and file, and to provide guidance to their beleaguered communities: 1. Should belief in Jesus be Jewish, Pauline, or Gnostic? 2. Could Gentiles follow Jesus without becoming Jews? 3. How did Gentiles fit in the ministry of a Jewish Messiah? 4. Why did the disciples reject Paul’s interpretation of Jesus’s ministry? 5. How to explain the Gentiles’ estrangement from the descendants of the founders? During the period between the two failed Judean uprisings (70–135 CE), reassured by the success of the missions to the Gentiles and by the devastation of the strongholds of the Jewish faction in Judea, Gentile intellectuals and leaders deployed a variety of rhetorical and literary platforms to put forward their claim as rightful believers in Jesus. However, lacking the means to impose an outcome, the internal struggle within the 117 Jesus movement lingered through two–three centuries of impasse and slow attrition. The battle about ‘what belief in Jesus should be’ deteriorated into a long-drawn-out struggle in which the weapons of choice seem to have been defamation and bitter and derogatory vitriol. The canonical Gospels were authored during this transitional period. Gentile believers, diverse and lacking a coherent and normative theology, had to steer through countercurrents of continuity and discontinuity vis- à vis the legacy of the founding fathers. The Pauline claim of a superior understanding of Jesus’s ministry vis- à -vis that of the founders, the casting of the disciples as not understanding, denying and betraying Jesus, and the Pauline rejection and denigration of the character, traditions and beliefs of the Jewish followers of Jesus (Torah-Law observance, dietary traditions, circumcision, etc.) seem to part of the attempts to navigate this turbulence. These mutually sustaining polemical tools seem to signal to Pagan converts that opposition to the imposition of the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by the descendants of his disciples and first followers is legitimate. The tactical dilemma of Mark and other early Paulines was how to navigate between their opposition to the imposition of Torah observance and the unassailable legitimacy of the disciples at the time of authorship. In pursuit of these goals they gradually gravitated toward a strategy that had two components: to insert a wedge between Jesus and his disciples and first followers, and to build on the aversion of most Gentiles to the beliefs and traditions of the founders. The Synoptics gave their communities, beleaguered by dissent and selfdoubt, a legitimating narrative: The Jewish faction may be the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, but their ancestors did not ‘understand’ Jesus’s true message. Moreover, his messiahship was hidden to ‘them’ but clear to ‘us.’ As proven by their scriptures, the Jews were sinful and had lost God’s favor. Consequently, the descendants of the founding fathers cannot claim to be the custodians and interpreters of Jesus’s legacy. The Qumran-New Testament connection seems to support a major thesis of this manuscript, namely, that in their quest to de-Judaize the Jesus 118 movement, Pauline believers subverted-emulated-appropriated the antiJewish-establishment traditions, attitudes, and rhetoric of the founding fathers toward the Jewish mainstream and converted them into an antiJewish-establishment tool within the Jesus movement. This ‘second generation’ anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric will be aimed at the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, who were (at the time) the establishment of the Jesus movement and the authoritative guardians and keepers of Jesus’s legacy. In the New Testament, these two anti-Jewish-establishment layers are intertwined and provide the scaffold for Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement. In other words, the ‘Jews’ of the canonical Gospels seem to reflect the fusion and confusion of two types of Jews, the antagonists of two distinct struggles. In the most ancient strata, the protagonists are the Jewish followers of Jesus, and their antagonists, are Judeans in positions of authority (i.e., the Pharisees, the scribes, the elders, the High Priests). In the later strata, the protagonists are Gentile believers in Jesus and their antagonists are the founding faction and their Gentile sympathizers. The earlier stratum reflects the debate among Jews about who Jesus was (messiah or not).272 The later one reflects the debate among Gentile believers about ‘what belief in Jesus ought to be” and about who Jesus was (human, divine, or both). In the canonical texts, we find corroborating hints that a challenge to the legitimacy of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, the original guardians of his legacy, was brewing up. The main clues that did steer our inquiry in that direction are: • The denigration and vilification of the disciples and their character. • Denigration of the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus. • Family, friends, and disciples who ‘do not understand, deny and abandon.’ • Shift of culpability from ‘the chief priests, the scribes and the elders’ to ‘the Jews.’ • Appropriation and de-contextualization of the identity and lore of the founders.273 119 • Intensification of the polemical incitement as time passes. • Exoneration of the Romans, and culpability of ‘the Jews,’ in Jesus’ death. • Embrace of the biblical narrative while divesting beliefs and traditions demanded by it. In the anti-Jewish-establishment traditions of Judean sectarians, Pauline believers found a ‘ready to deploy’ arsenal that could be used to demote the establishment of the Jesus movement: the descendants of the founding fathers. This throve of anti-Jewish-establishment lore will become a tool to sever the influence of the founding faction and to de-Judaize belief in Jesus. By appropriating and by de-contextualizing the Judean anti-establishment lore of the founding fathers and other Judean sectarians, and by decontextualizing the Judean prophetic tradition and the Judean tradition of self-criticism - Pauline believers embedded the campaign to de-Judaize belief in Jesus in authoritative and venerated claims. 120 In light of these conclusions, I found it necessary to suggest a modified and expanded version of Hare’s terminology (his categories of anti-Judaism)274 to summarize the sources and stages of Christian anti-Jewish polemic. The first two sources reflect the appropriation and de-contextualization of Jewish anti-establishment traditions by Pauline believers in Jesus: 1. Prophetic anti-establishment criticism, as found among the Jewish prophets. 2. Jewish sectarian anti-establishment polemic. The anti-Jewish establishment lore of Jewish sectarians (Enochic, Jubilean, and Qumran rhetoric as well as the anti-establishment polemic of the Jewish followers of Jesus). 3. Gentile anti-Jewish-establishment polemic. Gentile polemic directed against the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement. 4. Gentile anti-Judaism. The anti-Jewish strand, the polemic that emerged out of fusion and confusion of the previous layers, and the transformation of an internal conflict about Judaism, into a conflict with Judaism. 5. Antisemitism, the later culture of disenfranchisement, hatred, and persecution that emerged out of the sacrosanct status of the antiJewish strand in the canonical lore. 121 122 What is at Stake+ Many scholars active in the twenty-first century have embraced the diversity of the early Jesus movement. The argument as to whether the Jesus movement was significantly uniform, or substantially diverse, still rages—but the balance is tilting toward the latter. The view that the emerging factions were diverse to the point of incompatibility is gaining support. For the preSynoptic period (40-70 CE), scholars have identified communities with differing theological anchors: Torah observance (the descendants of the founders), Jesus’s death and resurrection (Pauline believers),275 Jesus’s sayings and teachings (the Jewish followers of Jesus, Q, and M). Scholars have also classified early Gentile believers in Jesus according to their affiliation to either of two broad and somewhat mutually exclusive Jesus traditions: The ‘life tradition’ is an academic term applied to traditions about Jesus’s life and ministry. This tradition was centered on Jesus’s teachings and sayings and had a strong anti-establishment bent that would alienate the Roman elites. The life tradition is reflected in the gospel of Thomas, Q, M, James, the opponents of Paul in 1 Corinthian 1–4, and in some of the opponents of the Johannines. The ‘Cross tradition’ is an academic identifier given to the tradition focused on Jesus’s death and resurrection. This tradition, embraced by the Pauline factions, deemphasized the subversive and anti-establishment message of Jesus’s ministry and emphasized Jesus’s death and an otherworldly creed. The Cross tradition deemphasized ‘Jesus the social critic’276 and emphasized ‘Jesus the divine being’ and thus opened the door for the successful introduction of the new faith to the Roman elites. This tradition dominates most of the New Testament texts. 123 Hypotheses about pre-Gospel passion traditions277 are crucial for our search for they can shed light on Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement, as we encounter them in the canonical texts. For our purposes, the relevant questions at the pre-Synoptic level can be phrased in several ways: were polemical attitudes central to all pre-Synoptic Gentile communities? Are the anti-Judaic arguments, themes, and imagery that permeate the canonical passion narratives factional or are they present throughout the pre-Synoptic lore and texts? Was the ‘Jewish responsibility’ motif present in all the preSynoptic groups? If widely held, did it have the same meaning, centrality, and intensity for all believers? Is there a connection between focus on Jesus’s death and anti-Judaic attitudes? Was the focus on Jesus’s death a Pauline theme or was it widely accepted and authoritative? Whether the anti-Judaic bent of the canonical passion narratives originates in the Pauline appropriation-emulation-intensification of the anti-Jewishestablishment sentiment of the Jewish followers of Jesus or is mostly the creation of non-Jewish believers - is significant to our journey. The work of Crossan, Flusser, Koester, and others on the pre-Gospel layers of the passion narratives (a minority view) points to a factional origin. The work of these scholars supports the view that the canonical passion narratives emerged as part of a legacy that was not an intrinsic and constitutive theme for all believers in Jesus. The growing recognition that anti-Jewish themes were central for some (but were not universally authoritative for all) early believers in Jesus is central to my analysis of the socio-theological context that gave birth to the canonical texts. The question is, in a nutshell, whether the passion narratives we encounter in the canonical Gospels originate in one of multiple and differing pre-Synoptic strands (Flusser, Crossan, Koester) or originate in a wider pre-existing tradition (Brown, Dunn). This question has shadowed the battle over variants of the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death.’ If Mark and John are independent, and stand on a widely embraced pre-Synoptic tradition, it is supportive of some variant of the claim. If there were multiple pre-Synoptic traditions, some of which did not stand on the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death’ theme, it points to a factional origin. 124 The First Years - Summary+ Turn-of-the-era Jewish theological battles were occasionally bitter, but they were also mostly harmless. The pitch could be intense, but we have almost no examples of violence between Jewish sectarians and the Jewish mainstream. In line with other Jewish sectarians, the Jewish followers of Jesus would have considered themselves to be the ‘New Israel,’ a community living against apostate and sinful Israel. Characteristically, those outside the community would be seen as bound for damnation and outside God’s favor. The Qumran community and the communities that produced other Judean sectarian texts may have been precursors or templates for the Jewish followers of Jesus and may provide ‘the missing link’ to re-place the early Jesus movement in continuation to turn-of-the-era sectarian Judaism. The anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric that the Jewish followers of Jesus may have deployed against fellow Jews, a characteristic motif among Jewish sectarians, is not extant outside the Christian authoritative texts. Acknowledgment of the similarities and continuity between Gentile antiJewish rhetoric and the anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric of turn-of-the-era Jewish sectarian movements is an important shift in our understanding of the attitudes of Gentile believers in Jesus toward Judaism. Probable parallels between the lore of the early Jesus movement and the lore of Jewish sectarians provide us a new perspective on the early anti-Judaic polemic we encounter in the New Testament. Many themes, motifs, traits, and imagery traditionally seen as radically new and opposing Judaism may have originated in the Jewish sectarian milieu. As we started our journey, we overheard echoes of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers denigrating fellow Jews. As our train stops at the midway stations scattered along our path, we will eavesdrop on debates, mostly among Gentile believers. We will overhear them vilify ‘the Jews’ (their Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement) with ever-increasing viciousness. At the later stations of our voyage we will hear Gentiles denigrating all Jews. 125 126 Chapter 3 *Crisis in the Jesus movement Introduction Mark Matthew Luke/Acts John Revelation Summary A personal note Introduction+ When a scribe or community leader sat down to write an account of Jesus’s ministry, he had goals and alternatives. The paths chosen were not inevitable; they reflect the writers’ concerns, and agendas. Therefore, NT texts are windows into the conflicts and debates that characterized the authors’ specific context. The understanding that factional agendas and the specific circumstances of the author(s) and editor(s) underpin the writing of the texts available to us is increasingly accepted by New Testament scholars. Early communities of Gentile believers, challenged by theological confusion, estrangement from the descendants of the founding fathers, disarray, and growing Roman persecution needed reassurance and guidance. 127 Each of the four canonical gospels presents to us a different rendition of Jesus’ ministry, and they reflect differing emphases and theology. These renditions of the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth became canonical some three hundred years after their authorship. The full canon first emerges in a list compiled by Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria (ca. 367 ce). The earliest extant identification of the four canonical gospels as authoritative, is by Irenaeus (c 180 ce).278 These texts were written at a time when antiChristian sentiment was rising throughout the empire. From Jesus’ death onward, for the next 300 years, Gentile believers in Jesus were considered by the Romans to be a seditious and potentially rebellious sect. At the time of the earliest gospel, the first Roman persecution may have already taken place (Nero 64 c. E.). We can identify two main trajectories for the emergence of Gentile forms of belief in Jesus: missionary and secessionist communities. Most communities seem to have emerged out of one of these pathways. Some communities may have experienced a layered or mixed trajectory. This distinction will be useful in our attempts to understand the evolution of belief in Jesus. The suggested distinction between missionary and secessionist trajectories will be fruitful in our attempts to decipher the curious coexistence of intense rhetoric against the character, traditions and beliefs of the Jewish followers of Jesus,279 in texts that seem to reflect significant Jewish influence and/or knowledge of Jewish traditions. Secessionist communities —during the decades following Jesus’s death, and in areas and towns where there was a presence of the Jewish faction, Gentile individuals or groups may have joined synagogues or communities of Jewish followers of Jesus. This would be a natural consequence of the sway that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers would have exerted over recent converts. Some of these Gentiles may have integrated successfully with the host communities. Many would have felt alienated in the Jewish milieu of these Jewish sectarian communities - rejected Judaism, seceded, and formed Gentile communities. These Gentile believers, who seceded from communities of the Jewish followers of Jesus would display the most strident and extreme ‘anti-Jewish’ bent. Their grievances, their anger, and their rancor would be personal and 128 vindictive. These communities or individuals would incorporate, appropriate, and emulate elements of the identity and lore of the parent community (possible candidates: the community that appropriated Q and incorporated it in Mark, the community that appropriated M and incorporated it in Matthew, the Gentile layer of John, and (possibly) Barnabas and Hebrews). The short-lived fellowship between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus that characterizes these communities may explain the existence of Gentile leaders and intellectuals with exposure to, and some knowledge of, Judaism. Secessionist communities would be the most likely agents for the incorporation-appropriation of the identity, lore, beliefs, and traditions of the founding fathers into Gentile forms of belief in Jesus.280This seems to have been a smaller, but militant and influential, evolutionary track that produced some of the most resentful ‘anti-Jewish’ rhetoric. Missionary communities281—communities founded by early Pauline and proto-Gnostic evangelists. This trajectory contributed the main thrust that propelled the growth of the Jesus movement. These communities would have little or no interaction with the Jerusalem faction during the embryonic stages of community formation. Members of missionary communities would have limited exposure to, or knowledge of, Judaism. Tensions would have resulted from the encounter of these new converts with the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, or their Gentile sympathizers, in the public arena. It is plausible that most members of these communities did not differentiate between followers of Jesus of Jewish origin and mainstream Jews and may have understood the Pauline legacy as one of confrontation with, and negation of, Judaism. Compared to members of secessionist communities, their grievances and their vitriol toward the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers (and toward their beliefs and traditions) would be more cerebral, less intense - less rancorous (candidates—Mark (to the exclusion of Q), Matthew (to the exclusion of M), Luke/Acts, and Justin). Another source of knowledge about Judaism among Gentile believers would be Jews that converted to Paul’s interpretation of belief in Jesus. Reidar Hvalvik informs us that thirty percent of Paul’s immediate circle may have been Jews.282 This could be another source of knowledge, among Gentiles, 129 about Judaism. However, we can only speculate on the impact of this source on the Pauline polemic against the Jewish followers of Jesus. Given that we do not know the extent of their knowledge about Judaism, whether these individuals had a moderating, exacerbating, or no influence on the JewishGentile relationship in the Jesus movement is unclear. It seems that, for the most part, Jews and Gentiles did not enjoy a cordial fellowship within the Jesus movement. For a while, some may have attempted full fellowship and may have coexisted in an asymmetrical relationship where Gentile believers would have felt marginalized and unempowered. Furthermore, it appears that most Gentiles found the Jewish milieu of the descendants of the founding fathers alien and yearned for recognition and legitimacy as rightful followers of Jesus—despite their rejection of the founding generation. On the other hand, members of the Jewish faction may have remained ambivalent and equivocal about the many forms of Gentile belief in Jesus that surfaced following the Pauline and proto-Gnostic missions to the Gentiles, resulting in self-segregation, estrangement, and mounting tension. Furthermore, Tomson makes the case that followers of Jesus in Judaea and Jerusalem were becoming increasingly nationalist, more zealous for torah, and antigentile.283 As time passed the anti-establishment militant posturing, characteristic of secessionist communities, merged with the milder strand originating in the Pauline missionary communities. If we add the pro-Torah but anti-Jewishestablishment rhetoric of the Jewish founders, we have the rhetorical collage that we encounter in the New Testament. These multiple originating trajectories yield the confusing, ambivalent, and seemingly contradictory signals about Jews and Judaism that we encounter in the lore. The fusion and the confusion of these rhetorical layers in the hearts and minds of later Pauline believers may have become an ingrained tradition before the turn of the first century. It seems that the distinction between three types of ‘Jews’ (mainstream Jews, the Jewish followers of Jesus, and their Gentile sympathizers) started to fade quite early. The use of the terms ‘they/them’ and ‘Jews’ to address and identify the various ‘Jewish’ antagonists is present already in the gospel of John and in Barnabas, and may have been commonplace at the time,284 adding further confusion and ambivalence to the mix. 130 *Mark Introduction Delegitimizing the disciples ‘Their’ beliefs and traditions The responsibility for Jesus’s death My Mark Introduction+ Most modern scholars consider Mark to be the earliest canonical gospel.285 Some are opposed to the majority view.286 Throughout the ages Matthew was believed to be the earliest gospel and was, therefore, placed at the beginning of the New Testament. Theories about the positioning of the gospel of Mark in the synoptic sequence and its socio-theological context abound: Mark is the first Gospel (the ‘Perrin school’), Mark opposes the leadership (T. J. Weeden, W. Kelber), Mark tones down the original traditions (H. Koester; M. Smith), Mark is in harmony with the original traditions (Brown).287 The hypothesis that the Gospel of Mark was heavily influenced by Paul has gained momentum in the recent decades.288 Despite noted resonances, the synoptics (Mark, Matthew, and Luke) diverge widely in their interpretations of Jesus’s ministry. Each gospel has a substantially different Jesus, and a distinct Christology. Mark’s Jesus is a Jewish preacher, an unrecognized and misunderstood messiah who dies in agony and despair (Mark 8:29–30). According to Mark, no one seems to understand Jesus. The people closest to him, his family and his disciples and first followers, ‘do not understand.’289 The synoptic gospels were written at a time when anti-Christian sentiment throughout the empire was rising. From Jesus’s death onward, for the next three hundred years, 131 Gentile believers in Jesus were considered by the Romans to be a seditious and potentially rebellious sect. At the time of Mark’s authorship, the first Roman persecution may have already taken place (Nero 64 ce).290 At the time of authorship, Pauline communities seem to have experienced dissonance, anxiety, and doubt caused by the estrangement from the descendants of the Jewish founders. Standing on Mark, the synoptic tradition seems to shadow the embryonic stages of a Gentile challenge to the authority and to the legitimacy of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the exclusive guardians and interpreters of his legacy. Pauline communities needed reassurance and guidance. They needed a legitimating foundational discourse, a dissonance-reducing narrative. Pauline leaders needed a narrative of the birth of belief in Jesus that would address existential issues facing Gentile converts and would reassure Pauline believers torn by the estrangement from the Jewish founders. Such text should: First, reassure believers that they were rightful believers in Jesus despite their rejection of the Jewish beliefs and traditions that grounded Jesus’ ministry, and despite the demands for Torah observance from some, maybe most, of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Second, cast the history of belief in Jesus in a way that would support the proto-supersessionary291 impulses that were brewing-up among Paulines, and are echoed in Mark’s narrative. Mark’s casting of Jesus as trespassing traditional Jewish markers, the denigration of the disciples and their casting as misunderstanding Jesus’ messiaship, ministry, and legacy - addressed both concerns.292 Additional support for the impetus behind the Markan storyline is to be found in the circumstances following the Jewish War of 70 CE: the decimation of the Judean communities of the Jewish followers of Jesus during the Jewish War created a vacuum, a window of opportunity, that enabled and facilitated the transition from the initial Pauline yearning for recognition as rightful believers in Jesus, to the emergence of more assertive claims. Namely, the appropriation of the self-perception of the Jewish founders as the New Israel, 132 the New People of God – the embryonic stages of the supersessionary trajectory. Furthermore, the fact that Hebrews and Barnabas, the standard bearers and articulators of supersession theology, are roughly contemporaneous with Mark – may provide corroborative support for the existence of a protosupersessionary impetus among Pauline believers that may have impacted the authorship of the first Gospel. However, whereas Hebrews’ and Barnabas’ aims and agendas are easier to decipher, Mark’s underwrite the narrative and must be speculated about. Indeed, Mark attempts to reassure the rank and file that they are rightful followers of Jesus despite their rejection of the beliefs and religious traditions espoused by Jesus and by those chosen by him to be the custodians of his legacy. He does so by denigrating the disciples and by casting Jesus as trespassing traditions associated with his disciples and first followers – signaling that their beliefs and traditions can be rejected. When reading Mark in the narrow context of our attempt to decipher the antiJewish phenomenon, and with the intent of identifying underlying and unstated agendas, we have grounds to suspect that his narrative operates on three levels: First, he casts Jesus as violating purity law, dietary law, the temple, and the Sabbath—signaling to his community that they are rightful followers of Jesus despite their rejection of the beliefs and traditions of those chosen by him to be the guardians of his legacy. Second, Mark uses the gospel platform to denigrate the founding fathers, casting them as not understanding Jesus’s ministry and as abandoning him. He does so in an attempt to justify to his congregation their estrangement from the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. Third, Mark incorporates-appropriates and emulates elements of the identity and lore of the Jewish followers of Jesus (best exemplified by the appropriation of the Q source and of the Hebrew Scriptures)293 to legitimize his version of belief in Jesus. Fourth, he intensifies or invents a rumor about the involvement of the high priests, the scribes and the elders (14:53) as instigators of Jesus’s death. By casting Jesus’s crucifixion as caused by a Jewish conspiracy, Mark exonerates the 133 Romans and casts followers of Jesus as respectful of Roman authority. He may have done so, in an unsuccessful attempt to alleviate Roman persecution, and to facilitate evangelizing among Roman audiences. Delegitimizing the disciples+ Mark seems to stand on a tradition of opposition to authority that may have originated among the founding fathers and resonates with Judean sectarian traditions. Mark’s adversaries are specific groups (scribes, elders, chief priests) within Judaism, not ‘the Jews’ - pointing to a probable Jewish sectarian source for his anti-establishment rhetoric, most probably the lore of the Jewish founders. Throughout his gospel, Mark criticizes the twelve apostles, the special three, and Peter—the theological ancestors of those who are seen by Mark as his adversaries. Throughout the ancient middle east denigration of the ancestors of one’s opponents was common. In line with this tradition, the ancestors of Mark’s adversaries (Jesus’s disciples, closest associates and companions) ‘do not understand’ —implying that their understanding of Jesus’s legacy is wrong (a stealth message that is of great interest to us). Hindsight derived from our knowledge of what was to come helps us identify the belittling of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the first salvo in the confrontation between the Jewish faction and their Gentile sympathizers on one side, and Pauline believers on the other. Mark writes the earliest, and still tentative, Gentile challenge to the legitimacy of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the exclusive guardians and interpreters of Jesus’s legacy.294 The author of Mark implies that the Jewish followers of Jesus did not understand Jesus’s messiahship (they rejected Paul’s understanding of his ministry) and he denigrates them for that—a first sign of the upcoming debates about who Jesus was, and about what belief in Jesus should be. Mark’s depictions of the disciples are complex and ambivalent, almost of two minds. On the one hand, they were Jesus’s chosen companions and successors. On the other, they are the target of a puzzling torrent of innuendo. 134 We are informed by Mark that the disciples ‘do not comprehend’ (e.g., 4:13; 6:52; 7:18; 8:14–21), ‘do not understand’ (e.g., 6:37; 8:31–33; 9:38–41), are ‘hard of heart’ (e.g., 8:17; cf. 3:5; 10:5), blind and deaf (8:18; cf. 4:12), that they abandoned him in his moment of dire need (14:50; 14:66–72). The delegitimizing of the disciples via the ‘incomprehension’ motif, and via their alleged abandonment of Jesus during his arrest - has been, recently, the subject of intense scrutiny.295 Contrary to the almost universal veneration of the disciples of the founder in other world religions, Mark (and the synoptics who stand on his work) is unique in his denigration and belittling of the disciples, those who Jesus chose as custodians and guardians of his legacy. The few who knew Jesus best, the ones who shared his ethnicity, his religion, his journey, and his worldview, are the targets of Mark’s belittling and ridicule.296 The denigration and vilification of the ‘founding fathers’ of the movement is a peculiar motif that will reverberate throughout the canonical texts and throughout the tradition. It would appear that a crisis of identity and of legitimacy facing new converts underwrites the Markan narrative. At the time of authorship (ca. 60–80 ce) Paul’s mission to the Gentiles appears to have been successful in attracting new Pagan sympathizers and recruits. However, shortly after conversion, these new recruits must have realized that they had joined a beleaguered faction at odds with the ‘founding fathers’ of the movement. Yearning for recognition and for legitimacy as rightful believers in Jesus, some of these new converts would be attracted to the Jewish faction. Most of these converts, however, seem to have remained loyal to the Pauline perspective but needed a legitimating foundational discourse. Mark seems to address the Gentile yearning for acknowledgement as rightful followers of Jesus - a theme that will take center stage in later canonical and noncanonical texts. The earliest of the gospels addresses the issue of the inclusion of Gentiles implicitly, not explicitly and overtly. The juxtaposition of the disciples who deny and abandon Jesus at his moment of need with the centurion who recognizes Jesus as the ‘son of god’ (15:39) may be a hint at the inclusion of 135 Gentiles. The Gentile author/compiler of the final text of Matthew may have also added other hints on the inclusion of Gentiles in god’s plan: the magi (2:1–12), the centurion at the cross (27:54), the nations (28:16–20), the great commission (21:33–46; 24:14, 28:16–20) and possibly 15:21–28.297 Other than these debated hints of a mission to the Gentiles, the earliest indications of a mission beyond Israel’s ethnic borders are in Luke 7:1–10; 8:26–39; John 4:1–42; 10:16; 12:32; Acts 1:8 – pointing to the early second century for the first possible attestations (Given my inclination for a second century date for Luke-Acts pg. 158) The Markan narrative is, on the surface and per traditional readings, about a conflict between Jesus and Jews in positions of authority. However, skeptical readers can detect a crisis of identity and of legitimacy among Gentile believers in Jesus, as seen from a Pauline perspective. Mark’s critique of purity law, dietary law, the temple, and of Sabbath observance while acceptable commentaries, interpretations, and valid discussion topics among Jews - became potentially malignant when harnessed by Gentiles to undermine Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement. Indeed, along the way we shall encounter cumulative evidence that attacks by Gentiles on external-establishment Judaism should be considered a later, distinct, derivative, and secondary phenomenon. ‘Their’ beliefs and traditions+ Mark seldom states unequivocal positions. Rather, the text seems to hint, imply, and subvert—a stance characteristic of those opposing established and revered authority. Mark deploys metaphors, parables and theological constructs that disparage Jews, Judaism and Jewish beliefs and traditions. He casts Jesus as trespassing certain behavioral markers of Judaism with the apparent purpose of signaling to Gentile believers that their non-observance of the Torah does not disqualify them from being rightful followers of Jesus, contrary to the views of some among the Jewish faction. Although Mark stresses his agenda to the breaking point, we do not find in the gospel an unequivocal statement on Jesus’s rejection of Torah observance. Indeed, Mark avoids casting Jesus as severing the bond altogether; he stops short of casting him as explicitly rejecting Torah observance. Jesus’s statement in 11:17 stands on a typological de-contextualization of Isaiah 56:7 136 and Jeremiah 7:11. Characteristic of Mark’s often ambivalent positioning and contradictory messages, and despite traditional readings, Mark’s Jesus seems to affirm the law (7:1–13; 12:28–34) and the temple cult (1:40–45). On the other hand, the temple is also a focal point in Mark’s depiction of Jesus’s final journey (11:15–17, 27; 12:35; 13:3; 14:48–49; 15:29; 15:38). His actions in 11:15–16, seen in the context of the cursing of the fig tree (11:12–14), seem to imply a divine verdict against the temple. Mark’s anti-temple rhetoric resonates with the anti-temple rhetoric of Judean sectarians and may be an emulation of an anti-temple stand originating in the Jewish followers of Jesus or other Judean sectarians. This seems to be an attempt to justify the break with the beliefs and traditions of the founding generation. By claiming god’s judgment on the temple, Mark signals that it is no longer the cultic center and dwelling of God, undermining the claim of the Jewish followers of Jesus to being the New Israel, and god’s new chosen. Whether this points to the temple’s destruction in 70 CE or reflects the effort to undermine Mark’s opponents by challenging their continuing affiliation with the traditions associated with the temple, is debatable. Mark seems to be signaling to his Gentile audience that some beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers are of human origin and may be debated (2:23–28; 3:4), a position that would not be seen by Jews of that period as a rejection of the Torah. Jesus’s rejection of ‘the traditions of the elders’ and his declaration that all foods were clean (7:1–13) would be seen by contemporaneous Jews as a radical critique but would not signal to them Jesus’s dismissal of the Torah. Mark seems to target adversaries who are Torah-observant and who may have negated table fellowship to Gentiles. Mark’s logic seems to be that if Jesus is cast as eating with ‘toll collectors and sinners’ (2:13–17), eating with unwashed hands (7:1–23), and eating unclean foods (7:14–23),298 the demand of some among the descendants of the founding fathers that Gentile believers should adhere to their traditions is delegitimized.299 The evangelist’s message to believers experiencing the distress associated with the estrangement from the descendants of the Jewish founders is: don’t pay attention to ‘their’ claims as to the inadequacy of our form of belief in 137 Jesus. Jesus’s actions prove that they are wrong. They misunderstand his ministry and his legacy, they never understood. The responsibility for Jesus’s death300+ We do not know, and we may never know, whether Mark invented or inherited his claim about the involvement of some Judeans in Jesus’s death. This theme may have originated with him or may reflect an intensification or de-contextualization of traditions originating in the anti-Jewishestablishment lore of the descendants of the founding fathers. We may never know which elements incorporations or intensifications of pre-existing attitudes are and which are original. It is plausible that following Jesus’s death, a variety of accusations and rumors may have originated among his followers. Whether fact, rumor, or grounded on a pre-existing Essene template,301 these accusations may have been part of the folklore of the Jewish followers of Jesus – and may have been appropriated-incorporated by Mark. We do know, however, that the ‘Jewish culpability theme’ was central in the Pauline strands of belief in Jesus—pointing to a possible factional origin. Mark’s often contradictory and ambivalent positioning is noteworthy. Mark informs us that Jesus’s identity as the Messiah is both; the trigger for his death sentence (14:61–65; 15:26) and part of god’s will and plan (8:31; 9:11– 13; 14:21, 27). This position, however, does not restrain Mark from placing at the core of his work a seemingly contradictory claim. Namely, that Jesus’s death was not a consequence of Jesus’s messianic claims or of Roman charges of sedition, but the result of a conspiracy by wicked priests and scribes who opposed him. Per Mark, the trial was a Jewish conspiracy to put Jesus to death (14:55). Furthermore, Mark casts Pilate as a ‘reluctant’ crucifier.302 Pilate was ‘forced.’ He tried to save Jesus, to no avail (15:9–10, 12–14). Pilate, a ruthless and notoriously cruel Roman prefect, is cast by Mark as indecisive and subject to the influence of those ruled by him. The chief priests (11:18; 14:43, 53–65; 15:31–32) and the scribes (1:22; 9:11–13; 11:18, 27; 12:35–40; 14:1, 43, 53; 15:1, 31) are, per Mark, the main culprits in Jesus’s death.303 Mark’s casting of ‘the crowd’ as asking for Jesus’s crucifixion (15:12–14) implicates the Jewish people too. 138 Thus, Mark may have had multiple agendas in mind. By casting Jesus’s crucifixion as caused by a Jewish conspiracy, Mark may be attempting to signal to internal and external constituencies that Jesus’s followers are not a threat to Roman society. By emphasizing Jewish culpability, Mark was successful in deflating the Romans’ responsibility for Jesus’s death, an unsuccessful attempt to alleviate persecution. Mark may have also aimed at addressing concerns among prospective converts, some of which would be reluctant to join a sect at odds with the Roman authorities. My Mark+ Mark may have been the first ffollowers of Jesus to use Jesus’s life as a platform to claim a ‘truer’ understanding of Jesus’s ministry and legacy vis- à -vis the Jewish founding fathers. Articulated long before the end of the mission to the Jews,304 the Markan ‘rejection’ of Jesus by ‘the Jews’ is an anachronism and one of the clues to his unstated agendas. Thus, Mark’s casting of Jesus as rejected by the Jews may tell us more about the author’s goals and about the Jesus movement at the end of the first century—than about Jesus’s ministry. Mark’s peculiar texture has led scholars to suspect that his polemical bent originates in conflicts and tensions that afflicted the movement decades after Jesus’s death. It seems that tensions between Gentile and Jewish followers intensified as time passed, and that a polemical escalation reflects this trajectory. Mark addresses a Gentile community of believers in Jesus and conveys the following message: we are true and rightful followers of Jesus. Don’t let anyone cast any doubt on your legitimacy as believers in Jesus. Even though ‘the Jews’ (i.e., the Jewish followers of Jesus) are the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers—they do not understand the true meaning of Jesus’s ministry. Nor did their ancestors, the disciples. The disciples not only misunderstood Jesus’s true identity and message, but they also abandoned and betrayed him at the moment of his greatest need. They have forfeited any prerogatives they may have had. Whatever they say you should do, is no longer valid or necessary. We have the true and right understanding of Jesus’s legacy, and we are his rightful followers. We are the true guardians of his heritage. The Jewish faction interprets Jesus’s life and legacy differently than us due to the fact that Jesus’s ministry was deliberately hidden. The disciples did not comprehend the true nature of his mission, ‘they did not 139 understand.’ The people closest to him, his family, his disciples, his neighbors, and fellow Jews, misunderstood who he was and what was the true meaning of his life and legacy. What is it that the disciples, who shared Jesus’s ministry as well as his ethnicity, religion, and socio-cultural background, did not understand? what is it that Mark, who did not know Jesus and whose background and life experience were alien to his, did know that his disciples did not? unfortunately, Mark does not present his ‘bonafides’; he does not disclose the source of his detailed knowledge of the events. It seems that what the disciples ‘did not understand’ is not belief in Jesus, but Mark’s version of it. Mark is our first clue that the gospel tradition shadows the early stages of a Gentile challenge to the authority and to the legitimacy of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the sole guardians and interpreters of his legacy. As we progress, we will accumulate corroborating clues on this effort, although (for the most part) during the canonical era it seems to have been put forward in implied and veiled formats. Whether intended to open the door to Gentiles as rightful followers of Jesus or aimed at eroding the authority of the descendants of the founding fathers and furthering the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus, Mark’s gospel paved the road for both. Under skeptical scrutiny, the Markan disciples who did not understand Jesus’s ministry and abandoned him in his moment of need may emerge as a clever move to explain to recent Gentile converts the conundrum posed by their rejection of the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by those chosen by him to be the caretakers of his legacy. As stated previously, and as it pertains to the evolution of the polemical strand, we can identify three Markan legacies: 1. Jesus the unacknowledged messiah, a stranger among his family, his friends, and followers—an alien among fellow Israelites. 2. The denigration and vilification of the disciples, of Torah observance, purity law, dietary law, the temple, and of Sabbath observance. 3. The exoneration of the Romans and culpability of the high priests, the scribes and the elders. 140 The Markan repertoire will be expanded upon by later leaders and intellectuals in their quest to de-Judaize belief in Jesus. Although Mark is the foundation of the synoptic edifice, he does not deploy the intense anti-Judaic invective that we will encounter in later writers. Mark’s tone and demeanor are those of a community leader who attempts to craft a foundational account of Jesus ministry that may confer recognition and respectability on Gentiles experiencing the distress and anxiety caused by the falling-out with the descendants of the founding fathers. The rhetorical aim of Mark is to shore-up Gentiles undergoing this painful estrangement and to articulate a validation of it. Mark is moderate when compared to Matthew, Luke, and John. The rhetorical demons are still under control. In Mark the Gentiles are not yet Yahweh’s new favorites and the Israelites are not yet an apostate people. Furthermore, in Mark, ‘the Jews’ occurs only in the non-Jewish designation ‘king of the Jews’ (15:2, 9, 12, 18, and 26) and in 7:3 where ‘all the Jews’ signals Mark’s unfamiliarity with Jewish rituals. None of these instances are derogatory of Judaism. It is not obvious whether Mark weighed alternative versions against specific goals. However, the intricacy and the delicate balancing of the apparent intended messages suggest, to me, thoughtful intent. As we move forward in time, the main Markan themes will recur and resurface in varying guises and with increasing passion throughout the emerging tradition. 305 Surprisingly, the New Testament preserves in Mathew and in the epistle attributed to James residues of the traditions that oppose the MarkanPauline delegitimizing of the disciples. Matthew ¨… stunningly overhauls Mark's grim portrayal of Jesus' students, unabashedly changing the endings of stories so that instead of being hard hearted, blind, and dumb, they worship Jesus and fully recognize his identity (e.g., 14:28-33; 17:13); Matthew's Jesus even goes so far as to name Peter as the rock on which he will build his church (16:16-18). This is a major validation, over against Mark's dismal portrait of these men, and it completely re-contextualizes those critical comments that Matthew retains. And of course the story ends with the comprehensive redemption of the disciples in the so-called "Great Commission" (28:16-20), where Jesus entrusts his ongoing mission to them. 141 ¨306 Indeed, Matthew wrote a thorough repudiation of Mark´s polemic against the disciples, their character and traditions. As for Torah, not only does Matthew omit Mark's editorial remark about Jesus' canceling the dietary laws (Matt 15:17), but he also has Jesus insist at length (5:17-21) that he did not come to abolish the law, and that anyone who defaulted in even the least of the commandments or taught others to do so would be least in the kingdom. He even admires the Pharisees as teachers (not doers) and insists on the laws of tithing (23:2-3, 23). 307 Mark’s writing craft is superb. Mark’s foundational saga of Jesus’s ministry signals to his Gentile audience that their being non-Torah observant does not impede their being rightful followers of Jesus. We do not know, and we may never know, whether (and to what extent) Mark invented or inherited his account of Jesus’ ministry, its dominant anti-Torah observance message and its thorough delegitimizing of the Jewish followers of Jesus. By casting Jesus as defying traditional identity markers of Judaism, Mark signals that demands on Gentiles, by some among the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers (to observe the Torah and to embrace a Jewish lifestyle) are contrary to Jesus’s own actions and deeds. The author of the earliest Gospel also has superb timing: he rides on a growing wave of Pagan conversion to belief in Jesus and capitalizes on the collapse of his adversaries due to the decimation of the communities of the Jewish followers of Jesus in Judea during the Jewish War (70 C.E.). The author of Mark was amazingly successful as well: he attempts (and succeeds) in driving a permanent wedge between Jesus and his Jewish disciples in the eyes and souls of his Gentile audience and of later believers – a wedge that became canonical. This tendentious alienation of Jesus from those chosen by him to be the guardians of his legacy and from his Jewish family, background, traditions and affiliations - was aimed at delegitimizing the author’s Jewish adversaries within the Jesus movement and at deemphasizing Jesus’ Jewish grounding. 142 *Matthew Introduction Authorship and setting Matthew and Judaism A Gentile editor/compiler My Matthew Introduction+ By the end of the first century the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers308 may have become a minority in the Jesus movement and a problematic sect within Judaism. The emergence of Gentile forms of belief in Jesus, did challenge the status of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the exclusive interpreters of his legacy.309 Among the synoptics, Matthew is both; the most anti-Judaic and the most knowledgeable about Jewish traditions.310 There is great urgency and an agonizing undertow in the gospel according to Matthew. Its location, at the beginning of the canon, induces and ushers-in a potent polemical tone throughout the lore. Many of Matthew’s stories stand on Mark. Deviations from Mark may be indicative of setting and intent. In Matthew, the assaults on the Judean authorities intensify. The chief priests and elders are the main targets (16:21; 21:23; 26:3, 47; 27:1, 3, 12, 20; 28:11–12). Scribes and Pharisees are associated with the synagogues and tend to be opponents in disputes over the law (3:7; 5:20; 6:1–18; 15:1–20; 19:3; 21:33–46; 22:15; 23:13– 33).311 further corroboration of the anti-Pauline emphasis of proto Matthew is the ¨fact that ¨ Matthew stunningly overhauls Mark's grim portrayal of Jesus' students, unabashedly changing the endings of stories so that instead of 143 being hard hearted, blind, and dumb, they worship Jesus and fully recognize his identity (e.g., 14:28-33; 17:13); Matthew's Jesus even goes so far as to name Peter as the rock on which he will build his church (16:16-18). This is a major validation, over against Mark's dismal portrait of these men, and it completely re-contextualizes those critical comments that Matthew retains. And of course the story ends with the comprehensive redemption of the disciples in the so-called "Great Commission" (28:16-20), where Jesus entrusts his ongoing mission to them. ¨312 Matthew’s polemic is mostly aimed at the Judean establishment, but he also draws his opponents’ followers into his polemic (10:12–15, 20–24; 26:57; 27:24– 25). The central role that the Pharisees play as the archenemies in Matthew contrasts sharply with the rather minor role they play in Jewish literature and lore, and may be indicative that they were polemical proxies.313 Saldarini suggests that the level of animosity against the Pharisees in Matthew suggests that the scribes and Pharisees represent contemporaries with whom the author is in conflict.314 According to most scholars, the adversaries in question are “the Jews.” An intriguing possibility would be that the Pharisees are substitutes that allow the gentile final editor to indirectly attack the Jewish followers of Jesus (who, most probably, were Pharisees). Overall, the emphasis is on increased polemical sentiment and on variation from Mark.315 Matthew tends to bundle all ‘figures of authority’ and intimates a monolithic Jewish opposition to Jesus. Matthew also broadens the blame: ‘all the people’ take the responsibility for condemning Jesus to death. Compared to Mark, there is increased and widened malevolence in Matthew’s depiction of the Jews: ‘you brood of vipers! how can you speak good, when you are evil? for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks’ (12:34). Judas’s 30 pieces of silver, the field of blood, Pilate’s wife dream, and most importantly— the first unequivocal articulations of Jewish collective responsibility (23–24:33–36 and 27:25–26) are also part of Matthew’s intensification of the anti-Jewish rhetoric.316 In the parable of the weeds the Jews are demonized: ‘the weeds are the sons of the evil one, and the enemy who sowed them is the devil’ (Matt. 13:38–39). [+pg 103] 144 Authorship and setting The canonical Matthew is unusual among the synoptic gospels in that it contains an odd mixture of themes and emphases that do not fit later orthodox views. Stendhal, probing the similarity between the Matthew’s and Qumran’s use of scripture, concluded that the gospel of Matthew was the product of a school.317 Echoing this conclusion ‘a consensus that the Matthew community went through several stages of interaction with the Jewish communities close to it, and that these stages have left fossils in the strata of tradition and redaction may be in place.’318 Matthew’s authorship enigma stems from the coexistence of Markan themes (culpability of the Jews, exoneration of the Romans, and an enhanced passion narrative), non-Pauline themes (strict Torah observance 5:17–20, 22:35–40, 23:2–3), anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric (attacks on Judean figures of authority 16:21; 21:23; 26:3, 47; 27:1, 3, 12, 20; 28:11–12),319 and socially subversive motifs (10:22, 10:35–37, 12:30).320 Given the overall trajectory of increasing polemical sentiment and the growing Gentile ascendancy within the movement, Matthew’s defense of Torah observance is most intriguing. Was Matthew authored within one community that underwent change and transformation? or, did a later Gentile community incorporate earlier traditions originating among the Jewish founders and containing pro-Torah observance elements? if the canonical Matthew is an integral text authored by a community of Jewish followers of Jesus, how does a text authored by Gentile believers (Mark) become authoritative to descendants of the Jewish founders, an apparent reversal in the flow of theological legitimacy?321 Those that argue for a proto-Matthew322 text authored by a community of Jewish followers of Jesus that was appropriated by a later and Gentile community, provide a plausible explanation for this Matthean authorship enigma. Whereas, per most scholars, Gentiles authored Luke, Matthew defies classification.323 Tradition (Irenaeus and Eusebius) asserts that the original text of Matthew was written in Hebrew. Others have supported Aramaic as the original language of the earliest layers. 145 Ferdinand Christian Baur (1847) first proposed the existence of a protoMatthew. Flusser, somewhat in the wake of Bauer, has claimed a non-Greek original, a proto-Matthew (The Q and M materials)324 More importantly, he claimed that the non-Greek sections of the text do not contain anti-Judaic elements and that the polemical sections are all of later, and Greek, origin. In proto-Matthew, the new people of God are the Jewish followers of Jesus. Torah observance, the law, and the prophets are not abolished, they are embraced. Proto-Matthew is firmly anchored in Judaism. Jesus brings salvation and renewal to Israel. Written at a time when the mission to the Jews was only a couple of decades old, proto-Matthew’s rhetoric is reflective of a strident dispute among Jews about Jesus messiahship, a legitimate and recurring question that has surfaced throughout Jewish history whenever claimants to messianic status emerge. Matthew and Judaism325+ The biblical flood story, the Moses infancy account, the Jesus passion, and Matthew’s Jesus seem to have been molded on pre-existent traditions (the Gilgamesh epic, the legend of Sargon of Akkad, Israelite traditions326 and the Moses story in the Pentateuch, respectively). Using the authoritative texts of preceding cultures as templates to fashion new religious narratives is an ancient technique deployed to vest contemporaneous protagonists with the legitimacy and the authority of ancient traditions and figures. In the canonical Matthew Jesus is cast as mirroring Moses,327 the towering Jewish figure. Matthew’s infancy narratives (Matt. 1:18–2:22) and Jesus’s earlier ministry emulate Moses’ life story. In Matthew, Jesus is the clear and obvious fulfillment of Jewish eschatological328 and messianic expectations. Jesus is no longer Mark’s unrecognized messiah. Proto-Matthew’s teachings about Jesus are firmly rooted in Jewish traditions.329 In the New Testament, protoMatthew seems to be among the earliest originators of the predictive nature of the ‘Old Testament’ and of prophecy fulfilled (4:14; 8:17; 13:14, 35; 21:4; 26:54). This exegetical system (Pesher)330 that originates in Qumran and will be appropriated by Pauline authors in their quest to de-Judaize belief in Jesus and will take center stage in Barnabas and in the epistle to the Hebrews. In proto-Matthew, followers of Jesus are cast as perfect Jews, Jesus as the most Jewish of preachers: 146 Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfill them. (Matt. 5:17) Whoever then relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but he who does them and teaches them shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. (Matt. 5:19) For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matt. 5:20) he answered, I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. (Matt. 15:24) Due to their being diametrically opposed to the de-Judaizing thrust of the synoptics, calls to Torah observance in Matthew are our best indicators of the incorporation-appropriation of a Jewish proto-Matthean text into the canonical version. Some scholars consider that pro-Torah observance segments in Matthew may be true expressions of Jesus’s views, on the grounds that they go counter to the polemical tendency otherwise apparent in the canonical gospels. It is plausible that these verses represented old and revered traditions that could not be easily erased; a Jewish Proto-Matthew. It seems that wherever the context seems to reflect a debate among Jews, or when Jesus is seen as the realization and fulfillment of Jewish expectations and traditions—we could be facing traces of the lore of the Jewish founders of the Jesus movement (Jesus the messiah, son of Abraham and david [1:1– 17; 5:17–20; 21:33–46) or Jesus the new Moses [l:18–2:23; 5:1–2; 8:1–9:34; 11:25–30; 17:2–9; 28:16–20]. Some scholars support the integrity of the canonical version.331 Per Saldarini, a supporter of an integral text, Matthew’s discussions of Jewish law, customs, and practices fit within the acceptable range of debates in first147 century Judaism. Saldarini’s Matthew defends his positions with sophisticated arguments comprehensible to a Jewish community, and he sees himself as an authoritative teacher of an existing tradition, not as the spokesperson for a new religion.332 Those supportive of an integral and coherent Matthew face the need to harmonize the text’s dissonant messages about the disciples, and about Judaism.333 Saldarini’s integral text comes at the cost of assigning Jewish authorship to segments that denigrate the disciples, the ancestors of Saldarini’s designated authors—creating a significant conundrum. It also comes at the cost of assigning Jewish authorship to segments that contain condemnations of the Jewish people. This positioning, I assume, would be unacceptable to any Jew, to the inclusion of the descendants of the Jewish founders. Although the canonical Matthew may feel anti-Jewish to a twenty-firstcentury literal reader, significant portions seem to originate among the Jewish followers of Jesus (The Q and M materials) and may reflect their sectarian posturing toward the Judean establishment. The seemingly contradictory juxtaposition of pro-Jewish and anti-Jewish establishment elements may indicate a situation where the exaltation of Torah observance is simultaneous with rejection of mainstream Judaism - a traditional Jewish sectarian posture. The claim that the Jewish followers of Jesus were the New Israel,334 would reflect the sectarian anti-establishment tradition of a Jewish proto-Matthean community. This early layer of Matthew would address an audience of followers of Jesus of Jewish origin and would be aimed at segregating the community from establishment Judaism, while calling for strict Torah observance. Several enigmatic passages that may fit this context: Matthew 12:30—he who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters. Matthew 10:22—and you will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But he who endures to the end will be saved. 148 Matthew 10:35—for I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. Matthew 10:36—and a man’s foes will be those of his own household. Matthew 10:37—he who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Families and communities are being torn apart, are being undone. The way back is being shut. Members are told to find solace in Jesus’s anticipation of their circumstances. The writer’s message to the addressees seems to be: Jesus foretold your suffering; this is all part of the divine plan. You cannot go back. If necessary, you must leave your community, your family, and your past.335 The estrangement reflected in these verses may be reflective of either of two distinct schisms; the earlier separation between the Jewish followers of Jesus and the Jewish mainstream, or a later failed fellowship between Jewish and Gentile followers of Jesus. My inclination is for the earlier setting, although we cannot dismiss the later one. Oversimplifying for the sake of clarity, we may say that when Matthew attacks specific Jewish groups or individual Judean figures of authority, when Israel is deemed sinful and unrepentant, when Israel is threatened with the loss of god’s favor—we have a good chance that we are looking at residues of a militant anti-establishment Jewish Proto-Matthew, in a tradition editedincorporated-appropriated-subverted by later Gentile authors, editors, and compilers. The conflict between the proto-Matthean group and other Jews suggests that the larger community sees this group as deviant. Indeed, Proto-Matthew’s posturing against his opponents is typical of Jewish sectarians. His accusations of hypocrisy against his opponents are biased attacks on their integrity. In matters of substance Proto-Matthew claims the high moral ground. By stressing love, mercy, justice, and faith, the text implies that the community’s opponents neglect or oppose these fundamental principles of biblical life and theology. Needless to say, the text does not give an objective picture of Proto-Matthew’s opponents but 149 testifies to the intensity of the struggle. The footprints of this protoMatthean layer, if identified, presented, taught, and read as an example of Judean anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric (without the imposition of later superssesional and/or Pauline connotations or resonances), would be a Qumran-like sectarian text that should not be part of our conversation about the polemical strand. However, its appropriation-incorporation into the canonical text and the reading of the canonical Matthew as an integral Pauline-orthodox text does place Proto-Matthew at the center of our concern. [+pg 106] A Gentile editor/compiler Scholars differ on the socio-theological background that brought about the creation of a canonical text in which a Jewish proto-Matthew, Mark material, and some instances of pro-Gentile redaction are identifiable. Whereas protoMatthew’s intense rhetoric against the Judean establishment is a Qumranlike call to all Jews to recognize Jesus as the Messiah of the Jewish tradition, the Gentile editor/compiler of the canonical text created a complex document that reflects a layered trajectory. As the author(s) of the canonical text combined the Markan text and the harsh proto-Matthean anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric of the founding fathers (proto-Matthew) he had a wide spectrum of possible choices. His selection of ingredients and their proportions provide us some clues as to his mindset and intentions. By incorporating the proto-Matthean diatribe against establishment-Judaism without clarifying its original context, the author/compiler of the canonical text created a particular mix that, when read as an integral text, conveys an incendiary anti-Jewish message. Thus, Proto-Matthean lore that argued that the Jewish followers of Jesus were the new people of God (21:43) was subverted by later Gentiles to claim their right to being the newer people of god and to marginalize the descendants of the founding fathers. From the same quarry: the forfeiture of national privilege (21:43), a staple Judean sectarian warning against mainstream Judaism, was subverted to claim the unqualified loss of god’s favor by the Jewish people. 150 As the chastisements of Jewish sectarians against establishment-Judaism were appropriated-incorporated by Gentiles intent on de-Judaizing belief in Jesus, they became tools in the delegitimizing of the Jewish faction. Whether intended or accidental, the incorporation of the piercing anti-Jewishestablishment rhetoric of proto-Matthew into the final text created a polemical climate that could not but weaken the founding faction. Eventually, Pauline believers in Jesus embraced Matthew as authoritative and read this text as ‘Christian,’ despite its dissonances, contradictions, and its call for strict Torah observance and ambiguity regarding the stance of protoMatthew toward the inclusion of Gentiles.336 Furthermore, the reading of the anti-Jewish-establishment lore of the early Jewish followers of Jesus through the Pauline lens could not but bring about the perception of a conflict between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ These phenomena will be at the center of our journey and will preoccupy us throughout. Although crafted in the context of a Gentile challenge to the establishment of the Jesus movement, the canonical text was to be read by later believers from within a Pauline -orthodox mindset and was interpreted throughout the centuries as sanctioning and sanctifying anti-Jewish attitudes. The Pauline orientation of most of the texts included in the New Testament, and dogmatic reading, did camouflage and mitigate the non-Pauline outlook of proto-Matthew. Obviously, the Gentile editor/compiler who incorporatedappropriated the proto-Matthean anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric into the canonical text did not, could not, anticipate the long-term implications of his actions. My Matthew+ Early Gentile authors and editors attempted to grapple with the fact that belief in Jesus was originally Jewish and that, originally, Gentile forms of belief in Jesus represented an anti-establishment element within the Jesus movement. The editor/compiler of the Matthean canonical text is part of the synoptic sequence that argues, in a subtle and almost veiled manner, against the imposition of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers on Gentile converts as a precondition to being considered rightful followers of Jesus. 151 The pro-Torah segments in Matthew, and in the epistle of James, provide us unique access to the mindset of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. The survival of these pro-Torah and anti-Pauline elements may indicate that proto-Matthew and proto-James had become authoritative before the Pauline canon was formalized, and could not be rejected, nor fully re-edited to comply with the Pauline emerging narrative. These characteristics seem to corroborate that proto-Matthew migrated from a community of Jewish followers of Jesus to a community of Gentile believers. A Gentile group who incorporated pre-existing materials, to the inclusion of Mark, proto-Matthew, and the Q source, may have compiled the canonical Matthew. This argument is based on the following: 1. If the community who produced the final version of Matthew would include (literal or theological) descendants of the Jewish founders, the denigration and vilification of the disciples (their ancestors) cannot be assumed to originate with them.337 This observation is reinforced by the consensus that, in the ancient middle-east, denigration of the ancestors of adversaries and enemies is intentional and reflects later conflicts and agendas.338 2. The final text expands Mark’s circle of those to be blamed for Jesus’s death to the Jewish people (Matt 27). This accusation would be unacceptable to all Jews, follower of Jesus or not.339 Even those followers of Jesus of Jewish origin who may have come to believe that the Roman appointed traitors, collaborators, and minions paraded by the canonical gospels as ‘Jewish authorities’—may have acquiesced or collaborated in Jesus’s death—would not have authored such an expansive accusation. 3. Exoneration of the Romans is a related but separate component of the author’s positioning. The idea that descendants of the founding fathers would participate in exonerating hated conquerors and oppressors can only originate in a later, and Gentile, perspective.340 4. Since Mark is acknowledged by many scholars as earlier and of Gentile provenance, how would elements of his text end up in the sacred text of a community of followers of Jesus of Jewish origin? such migration (from a less authoritative, to a more authoritative faction) seems to violate the expected flow of beliefs from the older 152 and authoritative lore of the founding group, to the still-evolving views of Gentile believers in Jesus. If we posit that the canonical text was authored a Jew, he would have to be a staunch observant of the Torah who would embrace the disparagement of his beliefs and traditions, the disparagement of his biological and theological ancestors, the exoneration of the Romans, and the culpability of all Jews— an unlikely combination.341 Furthermore, under what circumstances would the descendants of the founding fathers, who saw themselves as the keepers and inheritors of Jesus’s ministry and legacy, incorporate elements from Mark—a later, adversarial, and Gentile interpretation of Jesus’s legacy? The implausibility of this counter-gravitational flow seems to support the existence of a Jewish proto-Matthew that was incorporated by a later Gentile community into its lore.342 This conclusion is contrary to the majority view that seems to advocate an integral text by an individual or community of Jewish followers of Jesus.343 If the canonical Matthew is the product of the incorporation of a protoMatthew by a later and Gentile community of believers in Jesus, it may be the earliest instance of the appropriation of the heritage of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers into Gentile dominated traditions, a trend that will intensify thereafter. A layered Matthew would explain the odd coexistence of Pauline-Markan hallmarks with pro-Torah themes and motifs, including some of the most enigmatic thematic textures and some of the more baffling verses of the New Testament. The incorporation of the anti-Jewish-establishment invective of the Jewish founders may reflect an attempt to carry forward a complex agenda that argues for the recognition of a de-Judaized form of belief in Jesus as a valid dispensation. At the hands of the Gentile editor/complier and assisted by the Markan material, the proto-Matthean claim that rejection of Jesus’s messiahship is rejection of god’s salvation and incurs god’s judgment (originally an argument between the Jewish followers of Jesus and mainstream Jews) morphs into hints that that rejection of the author’s form of belief in Jesus is tantamount to rejection of god’s salvation and incurs god’s judgment—on all Jews, to the inclusion of the Jewish followers of Jesus. 153 In the final text we encounter, in embryonic form, the tools that will bring about the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus and the demotion of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers from their status as the guardians of his legacy: The disciples who ‘did not understand’ (therefore the Jewish followers of Jesus cannot understand Jesus’s legacy) the Jewish loss of god’s favor (therefore the founding faction cannot claim to be the new people of god) and the ‘Jewish’ responsibility for Jesus’s death (an expansion of the Markan culprits to include all Jews). The destiny of the proto-Matthean Jewish followers of Jesus was tragic and ironic. The proto-Matthean community found itself estranged from Judaism, and from Gentile believers. Two–three generations after Jesus’ death, it found itself at the epicenter of a religious struggle that engulfed the Jesus movement for the next two hundred years. At the end of this strife - their identity, and lore sequestered, and their Torah vilified and ‘superseded,’ they will become marginal, isolated, and inconsequential. This outcome is Machiavellian: some among the descendants of the Jewish founders, whose beliefs were the closest to those of Jesus and his disciples, may have been lured away from Judaism by the Matthean promise to fulfill the Torah. However, within a generation or two, Gentile followers of Paul will oppose, denigrate, and eventually marginalize and demote, the Jewish followers of Jesus on the grounds that the beliefs and tradition espoused by them and by Jesus were heretical.344 154 *Luke/Acts Introduction Marcion and Luke/Acts Respectability and legitimacy My Luke/Acts Introduction+ In as much as many have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things which have been accomplished among us, just as they were delivered to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word, it seemed good to me also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, that you may know the truth concerning the things of which you have been informed. (Luke 1:1–4). Why did the author of the gospel according to Luke consider that a new telling of the short history of belief in Jesus was necessary? who’s telling needed correction? Mark’s? Matthew’s? both? Whereas, during the later decades of the first century the Jesus movement was torn by tensions between Gentiles converts and the descendants of the founding fathers, during the first decades of the second century a multilateral socio-theological confrontation engulfed the Jesus movement.345 Most scholars have concluded that the gospel of Luke and the book of Acts were authored during the decades following the destruction of the temple 155 (70 CE). A minority346 supports authorship during the first decades of the second century.347 Thus, if the later date is embraced, the protagonists impacting the author’s world would include not only the Jewish faction, their Gentile sympathizers, and the Paulines - but Marcionites and Gnostics too. The status of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the guardians and interpreters of Jesus’s legacy seems to have been a central, although unstated but implied, concern for Luke/Acts. Luke continues the Markan framing of the events as ‘the rejection of Jesus by the Jews’ at a time when the mission to the Jews was ongoing and followers of Jesus of Jewish origin were active among fellow Jews. At the time, a definitive end of the mission to the Jews was still in the future, an outcome unknown to the protagonists. Therefore, exploring this peculiar framing of the events may shed light on the author’s agenda. The framing of the events in the synoptic gospels as ‘the rejection of Jesus by the Jews’ became an ingrained misperception among later believers due to the fact that the mission to the Jews did eventually die out, and due to the effort to veil the Jewish grounding of the founding generation and obscure the drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus. Similar to the other synoptics, the Luke/Acts narrative puts forward, in narrative form, the claim of Gentiles to the guardianship of Jesus’s legacy. The author of Luke/Acts refined the Markan myth of origins: he hands over the mantle of leadership and of legitimacy (from the descendants of the Jewish founders) to the Pauline faction - without calling attention to this shift, or to its consequences. The Roman maxims of order, hierarchy, continuity, antiquity, and legitimacy are catered to. The disciples and Jesus’s followers, subtly denigrated by Mark and Matthew, enjoy ‘slightly better press.’348 Luke/Acts give us non-Jewish believers in Jesus as the rightful heirs of Jesus’s ministry and legacy and a submissive and Roman-friendly Jesus movement. Paul’s maverick and controversial ministry is legitimized by casting Paul as submissive to James’s authority. The Luke/Acts narrative signals the pivot of ‘Christianity’ (i.e., the Pauline mission) toward Rome. It faces forward, toward a Roman future. 156 Some scholars consider Luke to be the peak of the anti-Jewish motif in the synoptics. According to others, the Jewish people fare a bit better than in other canonical texts. We find scholars at both ends of a range: those impressed by Luke’s leniency349 and others who highlight his anti-Judaic stance.350 Some identify segments in Luke/Acts that seem to reflect nonanti-Judaic attitudes toward the Pharisees and toward the Jewish people. Given the Roman veneration for legitimacy, hierarchy, ancestry, and antiquity - the better attitude toward Judaism, that some scholars detect in Luke/Acts, may be part of a self-serving presentation: such improved Lukan positioning vis- à -vis Judaism could be a public relations effort of selfpromotion, not an articulation of a less anti-Judaic theological stance. Strangely, and anticipating future developments, in Luke/Acts the rejection of the beliefs of the founding fathers is embedded in a claim to harmony with Jewish traditions.351 However, Luke’s ‘continuity’ with Judaism352 is no continuity at all. The descendants of the founders are offered the olive branch of continuity with the requirement of self-negation. The improvement is therefore illusory; it disguises a profound negation, deployed in a more refined manner. That said, in Luke/Acts the Pauline rejection of Judaism (i.e., worldview of the descendants of the Jewish founders) does not come from the gut. Whereas the author of the canonical Matthew fashioned an intense and resentful text, the Lukan author is seemingly deliberate and cerebral—less visceral.353 Luke/Acts also broadens the scope of the polemical theme: ‘Jews’ had tried to kill Jesus prior to his crucifixion (4:28–29). Scribes, elders, and Pharisees conspired against Jesus all along (6:7, 11, and 9).354 the enemies of Jesus are satanic (10:18–19). Contrary to Mark and Matthew, the people who arrest Jesus are Jewish (22:52–53). Pilate declares Jesus innocent three times, and three times ‘the Jews’ insist on his execution. [+pg 113] 157 Marcion and Luke/Acts Marcion embodied a formidable challenge to those who opposed his theology and practices. His opponents made extraordinary efforts to combat his influence and attack his theology. Both, the Paulines and the Marcionites, attempted to erode and discredit the legitimacy of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the exclusive custodians of Jesus’s legacy. However, whereas the Paulines supported appropriation-supersession, Marcionites supported rejectionseparation. Marcion understood himself to be ‘the’ true interpreter of Paul’s legacy. However, contrary to the Pauline reject-but-appropriate approach, Marcion advocated a complete and radical rejection of any affiliation with the legacy of the founding faction,355 and strived for a thorough de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus. While most scholars support a first-century date of authorship for Luke/Acts, a minority view by Knox-Tyson-Townsend356 advocates a second-century date and sees Luke/Acts as reflective of an effort to address the Marcionite threat. John Knox’s analysis suggests that the Acts rendition of Paul was aimed at saving the Pauline legacy from Marcion’s appeal.357 Per Knox, Paul’s letters are supportive of Marcion’s theology and they do suggest, as Marcion claimed, that Paul understood himself to be the only apostle, and was autonomous from the group in Jerusalem. Knox also suggests that the Luke/Acts author may have reached the conclusion that unless provided with a proper commentary (Acts), Paul’s letters would lead readers to Marcion’s camp. Knox maintained that to accept Paul and at the same time repudiate Marcion ‘meant to affirm with all possible vigor that the apostle to the Gentiles, far from being independent of the twelve, had acknowledged their authority, had been gladly accredited by them, and had worked obediently and loyally under their direction.’ Furthermore, since Paul’s letters gave only negligible support to this view, ‘some book which, without reducing or disparaging Paul, subordinated him to the twelve was obviously required.’358 that, per Knox, is the intent of the Luke/Acts narrative. 158 While supportive of Knox, Tyson wrestled with the fact that there are no explicit references to Marcion in Luke/Acts. Townsend provided further support to the Knox-Tyson-Townsend view by pointing out that only after 170 CE we find definite citations and allusions to Luke/ Acts, that there is no conclusive confirmation that Luke/Acts was written in the first century, and that citations and allusions to the gospel of Luke do not require us to date the canonical text before 120–125 CE.359 If the Knox-Tyson-Townsend view is correct, the author(s) of Luke/Acts may have reacted to Marcion’s growing success by fashioning a narrative that does not seem to address the Marcionites opposition overtly. Instead, it showcases the Lukan outlook as if authoritative and unchallenged—two hundred years before the actual Pauline triumph. Tyson’s observation that Luke/Acts avoids attacking Marcion openly is supportive of my suggestions on the modus operandi of the Pauline faction in its struggle with the founding fathers and their descendants. In both fronts (against Marcion and against the Jewish faction) the Paulines seem to have fashioned strategies that attempted to circumvent and avoid direct textual confrontation with their adversaries. It would appear that as the Marcionites threat emerged, the Pauline faction employed the strategy they had being deploying against the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. In both conflicts, they seem to have created narratives where proxies are used, conflict is insinuated but not explicitly stated, and adversaries are dealt with by disregarding them. It is noteworthy that the Lukan account is showcased as the only legitimate and authoritative version of Jesus’ ministry, even though the decline of the Marcionites, the Gnostics, and of the mission to the Jews were centuries away and unknown to the participants. Somewhat surprisingly, my suspicions about the modus operandi of the Pauline faction in its confrontation with the descendants of the founding fathers, and the Knox-Tyson-Townsend perspective on Luke-Acts, turn out to be mutually supportive. Furthermore, Knox’s analysis of Paul’s relationship with the Jerusalem leadership is compatible with ‘my Paul’ (see pg. 80). 159 The historical value of Acts has been the focus of intensive debates. The battle lines mirror, to some degree, the religious affiliations and inclinations of the scholars.360 In 2013, the Acts Seminar, a decade-long collaborative project by scholars affiliated with the Westar Institute, published its conclusions. They concluded that The Acts of the Apostles dates from the second century, that its author constructed its story to fit ideological goals, and that Acts must be considered non-historical - unless proven otherwise in specific situations.361 Thus, Luke/Acts may emerge as an effort to address three concerns that may have dominated the socio-theological context of its authorship: 1. The influence of the Jewish faction—the continuing Gentile struggle against the sway of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, the original guardians and interpreters of Jesus’s legacy. 2. Marcion’s influence—the continuing struggle against Marcion’s theology362 and ecclesiastical organization. 3. Respectability and legitimacy—increasing Roman persecution of Gentile believers in Jesus, and theological chaos and dissent, required a foundational narrative that would bestow respectability and legitimacy on Pauline communities. Romans had to be convinced that the persecution of Gentile believers in Jesus was unjustified. Even though Luke/Acts looks inward, the author also has an eye on the broader Roman stage. He edifies and informs the faithful but also aims at a larger horizon. Luke/Acts is an effort by a highly educated individual to present to his constituency, and to a wider Roman audience, Paul’s ministry at its Roman best. Luke/Acts (in the footsteps of Mark) seems to hope that if Roman involvement in Jesus’s death is deflated363 and Jesus’s death can be cast as due to a Jewish scheme, Gentile believers in Jesus would no longer be seen as members of a seditious sect and could be suitable members of Roman society. 160 Respectability and legitimacy+ The Lukan texts are both; a Pauline account of the origins of the Jesus movement and the introduction of ‘Christianity’ (i.e., the Pauline interpretation of Jesus’s legacy) to the Roman world. In Luke/Acts tensions between the needs of internal and external constituencies yield texts that seem to be both: more respectful of Judaism (catering to the Roman expectation for respect of religion, antiquity, authority, and hierarchy) and more polemical (reflecting the growing militancy of the non-Jewish majority against the descendants of the Jewish founders). The author’s craft is notable; he walks a difficult line between continuity and discontinuity, and between reverence and rejection of authority. In the Lukan narrative, we can detect mismatched needs and expectations. On the one hand, some among Luke’s constituency seem to yearn for recognition from the Jerusalem leadership as rightful believers in Jesus, while on a collision course with them. Other elements in his constituency seem to be critical of any affront to tradition, authority, or hierarchy and therefore of any affront to the Jewish leadership. Whereas some believers expected continuity, discipline, and respect toward the Jewish leadership of the movement, others anguished for the opposite message: the validity of discontinuity and rejection. The resulting inconsistency has been observed and noted by scholars,364 but not clarified or set in a socio-theological context. Luke seems to be re-positioning the Jesus movement to meet the Roman respectability ‘checklist.’ He may be addressing the needs of conservative elements within his audience by complying with entry requirements to the Roman religious marketplace. In the Roman mind novelty was suspect. Continuity, antiquity, and legitimacy were the gateway, a precondition, to social acceptance. Acts is concerned with the reputation of Paul.365 Submission to hierarchy being a Roman must, this maverick individualist is cast as a compliant team player. The author fashioned a submissive and disciplined Paul to fit the expectations of a Roman audience that venerated tradition and ancestry, valued discipline and submission to authority. Thus, despite difficulties in 161 the relationship between Paul and the pillars, the Lukan Paul emerges as a ‘team player,’ a controversial visionary who is, nonetheless, embraced by the leaders of the movement. We do not know whether any Romans in positions of authority ever read the Lukan apologia. Luke’s efforts to cast a Roman-friendly image fail, and persecution persists, intermittently, for another four–five generations. My Luke/Acts+ The Jesus movement started off as a messianic, apocalyptic, and socially subversive movement of Jews.366 Claiming messianic status was an affront to Roman authority. The expected Roman response to messianic claims of any sort was execution. Luke does not hide the fact that the charges are sedition (19:38; 23:2, 11, and 38). To the Romans authorities of the first century, Gentile believers were an unusual and mistrusted lot: non-Jews that claimed to be the followers of a Jew crucified on accusations of sedition. Luke/Acts attempts to strike a balance between the internal need to explain (and to justify) the estrangement from the founding fathers, and the Roman veneration for antiquity, legitimacy, hierarchy, and authority. The Pauline dilemma was how to explain to internal and external constituencies the circumstances of Jesus’s death and the double discontinuity (from Judaism and from the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers). It would appear that the author of Luke/Acts crafted a new telling of the short history of belief in Jesus to address a complex reality that included theological and factional strife within the Jesus movement and growing Roman persecution. Casting Paul as a law-abiding Jew367 and as a submissive member of the hierarchy presided by James is a tactical masterstroke in a narrative that navigates the tricky transition from a sect within Judaism to a non-Jewish religious movement. Luke/Acts implies Pauline pre-eminence, an outcome that did come about only generations later. At the time of authorship, the Lukan apologia was a claim - not a reality (the protracted struggle among contending interpretations of belief in Jesus did not run its course until the fourth or fifth centuries). Luke/Acts, experiencing a reality of theological conflict, chaos, and flux, anoints Paulines as the new guardians and interpreters of Jesus’s legacy, without addressing the growing tensions within the 162 movement. Luke is casting a shift that has not yet taken place, as if it already did. We do not know the demographics of the Jesus movement at the turn of the first century, but Luke/Acts are dominated by a Pauline agenda, at a time when the descendants of the Jewish founders were still recognized by many as the true keepers and inheritors of Jesus’s legacy. Luke/Acts hints that Paulines are the legitimate inheritors and custodians of Jesus’s ministry and legacy, at the time that their campaign against the descendants of the founding fathers is bursting to the surface. The author’s transfer of legitimacy from the descendants of the Jewish founders to the Paulines signals, to Luke’s audience, that those embracing his interpretation of Paul’s legacy are the legitimate inheritors of Jesus’s ministry. Luke/Acts provided a curtain of legitimacy behind which the proto-orthodox push for compromise, unity, and ascendancy took place. These texts attempt a compromise between continuity and discontinuity visà -vis the founding faction, while explaining and justifying the estrangement from them. At a time when belief in Jesus is chaotic and diverse, the author of Luke/Acts states a premature claim to Pauline ascendancy and pre-eminence that does not seem to correspond to the facts on the ground. Luke/Acts leaves the reader ignorant of the reality confronting the Jesus movement at the time of authorship: internal dissent among Gentile believers, growing estrangement from the founding fathers, and increasing Roman persecution. It anticipates and hopes for a reality that did materialize only generations later. Luke/Acts insinuates a consensual, and almost idyllic transfer of legitimacy, authority, and guardianship from the descendants of the Jewish founders to the Gentile followers of Paul.368 Indeed, a literal-traditional reading of the Lukan narrative does not make the reader aware of the existential crisis between Jewish and Gentile factions, nor of the existence of conflicting and incompatible Gentile interpretations of Jesus’s ministry and legacy. 163 Furthermore, a critical reading exposes an apparent contradiction: while the Pauline faction is engaged in an ‘all-out’ assault on Jesus’s disciples and first followers and while conducting a smear campaign against their doctrinal children and grandchildren, Luke/Acts embraces the tribulations of the early Jewish followers of Jesus with no apparent discomfort at the obvious dissonance and contradiction. 164 *John Introduction Who were the ‘ioudaioi’? Evolution of the text Estrangement A strong undertow Current dilemmas My John Conclusions Introduction+ In John, we find the most explicit declarations on the divinity of Jesus in the canonical gospels; the closest intimations of Jesus’s divinity (John has the ‘highest’ Christology). In John’s gospel, we encounter the loftiest, most elaborate, and most inspirational exaltations of Jesus in the New Testament: ‘if Jesus is painfully human for Mark, he is serenely transcendental for John.’369 When read literally, John’s gospel is also the most anti-Jewish gospel.370 This tragic co-occurrence has amplified the impact of John’s polemical bent: 8:42 Jesus said to them, ‘if God were your father, you would love me, for I proceeded and came forth from god; I came not of my own accord, but he sent me. 43 why do you do not understand what I say? it is because you cannot bear to hear my word. 44 you are of your father the devil, and your 165 will is to do your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks according to his own nature for he is a liar and the father of lies. 45 but, because I tell the truth, you do not believe me. 46 which of you convicts me of sin? if I tell the truth, why do you not believe me? 47 he who is of God hears the words of god; the reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of god.’ 48 Standing on Martyn,371 there is a consensus that identifies two dramas that were fused into one by the author(s)/editor(s): Jesus’s conflict with the ‘Jewish authorities’ and the conflict of the Johannines with differing believers in Jesus, decades later. In John, we find traces of several debates. Disputes among Jews (about who Jesus was; whether messiah or not),372 disputes within the Jesus movement (was Jesus human, divine or both), and disputes about what theological worldview should be adopted lay fused and intertwined in the text. There exists somewhat of a consensus that John’s gospel was written in the last decade of the first century, and that the gospel and the Johannine epistles were part of the literary corpus of one community. Most date the epistles later, to a period of schism within the community. Who were the ‘ioudaioi’? + Whereas the lore of the Jewish followers of Jesus, on which the synoptics stand, castigates Judean figures of authority (the scribes, the chief priests, and the Pharisees), the ‘ioudaioi’ are the utmost opponents in John, and reign supreme as the archenemies of the author(s) of the canonical text. Who were the ‘ioudaioi’? The Latin term iudaeos, later translated as ‘Jews,’ originates in the Greek ‘ioudaioi’ and may have originally applied only to Judeans, but gradually became the identifier for all post-biblical Israelites. The term ioudaioi emerges out of a Greek and Roman adaptation of the Hebrew name ‘Judah’ (Hebrew: ‫יהודה‬, Greek: ιουδαία, ioudaía; Latin: iudaea).373 Although the term 166 appears prior in Jeremiah 36 and Zechariah 8, the first individual to be called a Jew (Hebrew: ‫ יֵהּודֹ י‬Yehudi, Greek: Ἰουδαῖοι, transliteration: ioudaioi) in the scriptures was Mordechai ‘there was a man, a Yehudi, in Shushing the capital, whose name was Mordechai’ (Esther 2:5). It seems that the term ioudaioi was also used for Gentiles who observed Jewish practices. In John, we encounter the term ioudaioi seventy times, most often in negative connotation. This compares with five times in Matthew, six times in Mark, and five times in Luke. In addition, we encounter often the implied denigration of the ‘ioudaioi.’ The emergence of the ioudaioi as a derogatory identifier for the adversaries of the Johannines may have originated in internal labeling and ‘name calling.’ Per Wilson, Dio Cassius, writing at the turn of the second and third centuries, says: ‘this title ‘ioudaioi’ is also borne by other persons who, although they are of other ethnicity, live by their laws.’374 This is also the meaning implied by Epictetus.375 J. D. Cohen informs us that by the second half of the second century BCE, the term ioudaioi was used to identify Judeans, Jews, and people who were not ethnic or geographic Judeans, but who had political or religious affinities with them. It appears that at the time of John’s authorship the term would mean ‘Judeans and their Gentile sympathizers.’376 De Jounge and De Ruyter377 have concluded that in John, the ioudaioi are Christians of non-Johannine persuasion. De Jounge claims that John uses the term ioudaioi to aim at a group of Christians whom he perceives as under strong influence of ‘Judaism.’ I agree, but we can go further. Using the terminology advocated here, the intended adversaries behind John’s deployment of the term ioudaioi could be the Jewish faction or their Gentile sympathizers. Thus, and anticipating the journey ahead, it seems that early Pauline writers may have characterized opponents within the Jesus movement as ‘ioudaioi,’378 pointing at the internal context of John’s ire. Normally, we should be able to extract the meaning of the term from the text. However, and unfortunately, John’s usage of the term is utterly confusing and contradictory: John 11:54; 19:12—his enemies 167 John 12:9—Jesus’s own people John 12:9, 11—these people John 11:19, 31, 33, 36, 45—their friends John 18:31; 19:7—they John 18:36—my enemies John 18:38—Jesus’s accusers John 4:9 and probably 4:22—Jesus John 4:29—salvation is from the Jews John 8:31; 11:45; 12:11—believers in Jesus John 8:39–44—children of the devil Furthermore, per some scholars, up to half of the incidences of ioudaioi in John are best translated as ‘the Jewish authorities.’ Urban c. Von Wahlde379 studied ten previous studies on the subject and found that they agreed unanimously in identifying 31 instances of hostile use of ioudaioi in John (1:19; 2:18, 20; 5:10, 15, 16, 18; 6:41, 52; 7:1, 11, 13, 15; 8:22, 48, 52, 57; 9:18, 22a, 22b; 10:24, 31, 33; 13:33; 18:14, 31, 36; 19:7, 31, 38; 20:19). Von Wahlde also argues that, except for John 6:41 and 52, all the hostile uses of ioudaioi refer to Judean authorities, not to the common people. However, in John 6:41, 52; 7:1; 8:22, 31; 10:19; 11:19, 31, 33, 36, 45, 54; 12:9,11; 18:20; and 19:20–21 the term seems to mean ‘the people.’ On the other hand: salvation is from the ioudaioi (John 4:22). Nonetheless, some ioudaioi, apart from his disciples, believe in Jesus (John 8:30–31; 11:45; 12:9–11; cf. 7:31, 40–43; 9:16; 10:19–21). This puzzling, complex, and inconsistent deployment of the term in John, stands in stark contrast to its uniform, tendentious, and monolithic later translation as ‘the Jews’ in most authoritative English versions. The inconsistent and disharmonic deployment of the term is puzzling and consequential: ‘this produced the multiple meaning of the name Jew that is so confusing, and which, when read synchronically, is so utterly contradictory.’380 168 Attempts to explain this phenomenon381 has not yielded a consensus. Recognition of the multivalent character of the term ioudaioi in John is now a majority view that is, unfortunately, not properly reflected in the popular editions of the New Testament - nor fully internalized by lay believers. Moreover, the various interpretations of ioudaioi (the Jews, some Jews, some Judeans, the people, some people, the descendants of the Jewish founders, differing Johannines, differing Gentiles) in John may also indicate that confusion regarding the historical ministry of Jesus was common, and that the second or third generations after Jesus’s death already had fogged and imprecise views of who the ioudaioi were. Thus, the use of the multivalent ioudaioi in a dissonant and incoherent manner agglomerates and blurs adversaries across generations (Jesus’s life is used to stage later conflicts). According to Culpepper, John makes ‘a connection between ‘the Jews’ who condemned Jesus and Jews known to the Christian community at a later time. By means of this transfer of hostility, effected by the two levels of meaning Martyn found in the Gospel, the Gospel creates a dangerous potential for antisemitism.’382 across religious and ethnic groups (Jews, Jewish followers of Jesus and their Gentile sympathizers), and across social classes (the Jewish authorities, the people, the crowd). With John, we seem to be at the threshold of a shift in the intensity of the anti-Jewish rhetoric. John seems to reflect a transition from the implied and tentative belittling of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers that we encountered in Paul and in the synoptics, to the more self-assured and vitriolic tone against the ioudaioi in the generations to come. This acceleration in the polemical trajectory reflects an underlying sociotheological reality that is not unique to John:383 at the dawn of the second century several Gentile interpretations of Jesus’s legacy were entering a process of adversarial self-definition. Nonetheless, John’s vitriolic rampage against the ioudaioi stands unique in the context of the New Testament corpus: John contains the most emotional and visceral attacks on opponents who are Jewish and may have contributed more than any other text to the saturation of the hearts and minds of later believers with polemical sentiment.384 Indeed, it seems that at the dawn of the second century a tidal wave of anti‘ioudaioi’ sentiment and incitement swept through many Gentile 169 communities - a phenomenon that needs deciphering. However, the escalation in anti-Jewish rhetoric during the second and third centuries cannot be credited solely to the influence of John due to the fact that the gospel of John was favored by some Gnostics, and was not embraced by the Pauline leadership until the fourth century.385 Therefore, the explanation for the transition (from the second century forward) to ‘the Jews’ as the ultimate adversaries requires a different perspective, a turning point of wider scope. As we move forward, we will try to answer the following questions: what triggered (and what was the purpose of) the widespread and multivalent use of ‘ioudaioi’? what caused the crescendo of anti-ioudaioi sentiment and incitement that we will witness during the second and third centuries? what was the socio-theological context that led to the later misinterpretation and mistranslation of the multivalent ioudaioi into ‘the Jews’? [+pg 126] Evolution of the text As we turn our attention to the evolution of the Johannine text, we may start by pointing out that there seems to be a tentative consensus among scholars that the canonical text took shape through stages or phases,386 although the details and characteristics of the trajectory are debated.387 Brown identified seven groups of protagonists,388 a significant departure from the traditional juxtaposition of ‘Jews’ versus ‘Christians.’ Standing on Carroll,389 Brown’s scenario for the Johannine saga, one of the foundational analyses on which the current consensus stands, may be summarized as follows:390 Phase one — the pre-gospel community: the original group were Jewish followers of Jesus. They included disciples of John the Baptist, a group with anti-temple persuasions, and some Samaritan converts (4:21, 23–24). These pre-gospel believers were affiliated to a synagogue of ‘mainstream Jews.’ Per Brown, the newcomers may have inspired some among the founding faction to embrace a Christology unacceptable to Judaism. This group ‘had been expelled from the synagogues (9:22; 16:2) because of what they were claiming about Jesus.’391 Phase two—the writing of the gospel: the gospel was written following the expulsion of the pre-gospel believers from a host synagogue. At the time the gospel was written (ca. Ad 90) ‘the expulsion from the synagogues is now past, but persecution (16:2–3) continues, and there are deep scars in the 170 Johannine psyche regarding the ‘Jews.’ the insistence on a ‘high’ Christology (made all the more intense by the struggles with the ‘Jews’) affects the community’s relations with the other Christian groups...’392 Phase three: the writing of the epistles occurs in now alienated Johannine communities, presumably ca. Ad 100 (i John 2:19) ... The struggle is between two groups of Johannines who are interpreting the gospel in opposite ways in matters of Christology, ethics, and eschatology... The secessionists are having the greater numerical success (i John 4:5) and the author is trying to bolster his adherents against further inroads by false teachers (2:27; ii John 10–11). The author feels that it is ‘the last hour’ (i John 2:18). The antagonists of I John seceded and moved rapidly toward Docetism393 and Gnosticism. Although clear Gnostic inclinations surface among Gentile believers during the second century, proto-Gnosticism predates that emergence and seems to have been part of the first Jewish century milieu that impacted early belief in Jesus. This explains why the fourth gospel, which they continued to revere, is cited earlier and more frequently by heterodox believers than by proto-orthodox ones. During the next decades, adherents of the author of I John may have gradually merged with what Ignatius of Antioch calls ‘the Church Catholic,’ as exhibited by the eventual acceptance of Johannine Christology among the Paulines. The use of the epistles as a guide to interpret the gospel eventually won for John a place in the canon of the church. A weak link in Brown’s model is the contention that descendants of the founding fathers worshiped in mainstream synagogues. It seems to me that, like other Judean sectarians, Jesus’s followers would have worshiped in their own synagogues, where Jesus would be exalted, not in ordinary synagogues where Jesus’s messiahship was rejected. Whereas Brown, and Martyn see Jewish followers of Jesus seceding from a community of mainstream Jews accompanied by a group of Gentiles who had joined that community, I see in the gospel two layers and two secessions. I position the Gentile Johannines as joining, and later seceding from, a community of Jewish followers of Jesus:394 1. First secession-estrangement: establishment of communities of Jewish followers of Jesus following Jesus’s death, or very soon thereafter. 171 2. First layer — the proto-Johnnines: a community of followers of Jesus who understands itself to be part of Judaism. The polemic is vis- à -vis mainstream Judaism. Whether Jesus was the Messiah—a dispute among Jews is the subject of contention (12.34; 7.41–42, 52, 12–13, 27, 15, 40–43, 5–18; 9.16; 5.41–47; 10.24). At some point, Pagan converts join this community. In this new milieu, a dispute about what kind of messiah Jesus was would have surfaced. This debate would have taken place between members of the founding faction and Gentile newcomers. Whether Jesus was an exalted human, a divine being (10:24, 30; 6.38, 60–66, 26–27; 8.17– 18, 30–59),395 or both, would be the essence of the controversy. 3. Second secession-estrangement: Gentile believers in Jesus would be alienated by the Jewish milieu of the proto-Johannines and would oppose the imposition of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers on Gentiles. They secede and create a community that gravitates toward a Gentile Christology. In this second secession-estrangement, a protoJohannine text may have transited from the Jewish milieu of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, to a non-Jewish setting.396 4. Second layer — the Johannine: a community of Gentile believers authors the gospel of John and incorporates traditions and/or texts that originated in the founding community they had seceded, or had been expelled, from. This Gentile community, having endured a process of separation-individuation, and in need to reduce the emotional and theological dissonance caused by the estrangement from the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, engenders the high emotional pitch of the anti-ioudaioi vitriol in John (9:22; 12:42; 16:2). For the Jewish proto-Johannines, the adversaries are the high priests, the scribes, and the Pharisees - the Judean establishment from which they would have self-segregated-seceded. For the Gentile Johannines the main intended antagonists targeted by the deployment of the ioudaioi curtain seem to be the Jewish faction and its Gentile sympathizers; the establishment from which they found themselves estranged. Thus, despite the deployment of the multivalent term ioudaioi we can say: first, the negative use of the term is characteristic of the later and Gentile layer and should not be ascribed to the proto-Johannine (and Jewish) first layer.397 Second, the term is never used in connection to a person who is a Johannine believer. An intriguing exception is 4:9 where it seems to apply to Jesus.398 172 Using the template suggested by Brown as a benchmark, the alternative scenario outlined earlier may be expanded as follows: Layer one — first secession-expulsion and the traditions of proto-John: discussions about whether Jesus was the Messiah or not, not about whether he was divine or not, triggered the split between the proto-Johannine Jewish followers of Jesus and establishment Judaism (1:35–49). Both parties were Jewish and viewed Jesus as a human. This layer contains the strident rhetoric (1:11, 35–51; 17:14–16)399 characteristic of Jewish sectarian posturing against establishment Judaism and is similar to the hyperbole of other Jewish sectarians (Qumran, Enoch, jubilees etc.). The first secession-expulsionestrangement may have taken place sometime circa 80 CE. Like most Jewish sectarians, the proto-Johannines would have formed communities and synagogues of their own. A dualistic juxtaposition of diametrically opposed sides was characteristic of turn-of-the-era Jewish sectarian rhetoric against the Jewish establishment. Befitting Jewish anti-establishment posturing, the most extreme rhetoric in John is characteristically dualist. In John, whoever does not accept the Johannine interpretation of Jesus’s legacy (8:12–59) is a child of the devil. When the ioudaioi are cast as untrue to their own beliefs and traditions and do not keep the Torah (7:19), when they are cast as not understanding their own scriptures (5:39–41; 10:31–38), when their leaders are accused of serving the Roman occupiers (19:15) and are children of the devil (8:39–44; 12:31; 14:30; 16:11; 17:15; 1 John 2:22 and 2 John 7) we seem to be encountering the fossilized remains of the sectarian anti-Jewishestablishment rhetoric of the Jewish followers of Jesus, or its subversionappropriation by Gentile believers. The descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers may also be behind the ioudaioi who are supportive of Jesus (7:15; 10:24; 12:9) and those who believe in Jesus (8:31; 11:45; 12:11). Significantly, whereas in proto-Matthew we find several calls to Torah observance, in proto-John we have none. Layer two—second secession-expulsion and the writing of John: the fellowship, the co-existence, of Gentiles and Jews in the Jesus movement 173 seems to have been unsuccessful throughout. First, the Jewish milieu of the founding fathers would have been alien to Gentile newcomers. Second, Gentiles would have opposed the imposition of Jewish traditions on them. Third, the various and conflicting Gentile interpretations of Jesus’s ministry and legacy would be considered inadequate and lacking by most of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers—most of whom seem to have conditioned fellowship on strict Torah observance. This second stratum seems to originate in seceding Gentile believers and targets the Jewish leadership of the movement, and their Gentile sympathizers. Here Gentile secessionists deploy against the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers a variant of the sectarian invective originally deployed by the founding fathers against fellow Jews. It is clear that at the time of the gospel’s writing, estrangement or secessionexpulsion had already taken place (9:22; 16:2). When we add the belittling of the disciples (6:60–66) and the attitude of the canonical text toward the Jewish faction (8:30–59), we are on relatively strong ground to argue that the community that gave us the final version of John was demographically Gentile. I concur400 that when claims to the divinity of Jesus appear, the estrangement from a synagogue has apparently occurred. However, contrary to most interpretations, I posit that the estrangement-expulsion that incenses the author(s)/editor(s) of the second layer is from a synagogue of Jewish followers of Jesus, not from a synagogue of mainstream Jews. Further indications of Gentile authorship of Layer two: to the editor/compiler of the final text, the ioudaioi and their traditions and institutions are not ‘us’ or ‘ours’ but ‘they’ and ‘theirs’ reflecting his Gentile perspective. His alienation from the Jewish context is visible also in ‘the Passover of the Jews’ (2:13; 11:55) and ‘a feast of the Jews’ (5:1; 6:4; 7:2). This stratum centers on arguments about whether Jesus was divine or not (5:18; 10:33; 16:2).401 The debates about the divinity/humanity of Jesus are omnipresent in the second layer of the gospel and in the epistles. The main conflict in the second Johannine layer is Christological. In 5:18, 10:33, and 19:7, the ioudaioi (in this case the descendants of the Jewish founders) seem to oppose equating Jesus to God. 174 The antagonists of the Gentile Johannines were ioudaioi who considered Jesus a human, and Docetic Gentiles402 who believed that Jesus was only divine - his human form being an illusion. Although there is not a clear articulation of a proto-Nicaean stand in the gospel, we may infer the Johannine position as standing in the mid-range between their adversaries. They seem to have gravitated toward a proto-orthodox understanding of Jesus’s ministry and legacy: Jesus as both, human and divine. The fourth gospel’s assertion that rejection of its claims about Jesus is sin403 (8:21–24; 31–34; 9:39–41; 15:22–24; 16:7–11; 19:10–11) attempts to capture both: the human messiah of the Jewish followers of Jesus (made flesh), and the divine savior of the Docetists (Jesus is the logos, the word). This positioning of the Johannines is an early precursor of the upcoming ‘via media’; the compromise creed forged by the Paulines during the second and third centuries. There is also a proto-supersessionary404 element in the second layer. The Johannine supersessionary attitude toward the ioudaioi is implicit in the claim that the Johannine understanding of Jesus’s life and legacy replaced and made obsolete the traditions of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. The Gentile Johannines of the second layer affirm that their understanding of Jesus’s ministry and legacy replaces all that was before, i.e., the beliefs of the Jewish founders (1:9; 2:1, 19–22; 4:10–14, 23, 21; 5:39; 7:28–29; 8:16,19, 58; 15:1, 21; 16:3; 17:25; 19:19–22). By internalizing the aberration ioudaioi= the Jews, and by fusing and confusing the two layers of the Johannine saga, readers see ‘the Jews’ as hostile and violent toward Jesus and his followers (5:16, 18; 7:1; 8:31, 37–38, 44, 47, 9:22, 16:2–3, 18:36, 19:38, 20:19). This is a peculiar claim. If understood literally, end-of-the-first-century Gentile believers in Jesus would be chastising ‘the Jews’ for persecuting the Jewish followers of Jesus, while they were engaged in a derogatory campaign against them—that is, mounting an assault on their authority and legitimacy. Is it possible that two–three generations after Jesus’ lifetime Gentile believers had already forgotten that the original followers of Jesus where the great-grandfathers of their adversaries in the present? Were internal and external Jews already fused and confused in the minds and hearts of Gentile believers? 175 Layer three— the Johannine epistles tell us of a third secession. This time the debate was about the nature and the details of Jesus’s divinity, an argument that would take place among Gentiles. This third polemic, against Gentile believers who ‘went too far’ and understood Jesus to be non-human and wholly divine, is hinted at (1:14, 18 and 19:34–35).405 The Johannine epistles reflect the Johannine struggle with differing Gentile believers in Jesus. Neither the ioudaioi nor Israel are mentioned specifically in the Johannine epistles.406 Contrary to the central role they play in the gospel, written one or two generations prior, the ioudaioi are not the main adversaries in the epistles. A group of differing Gentiles seems to be the target of the wrath of the author(s). I follow Brown’s analysis of the epistles as reflecting the other facet of the Johannine struggle, this time against those who rejected Jesus’s humanity and claimed his unequivocal divinity. The struggle of the Pauline faction against the refusal of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers to embrace Jesus’s divinity and against the refusal of Docetists, and Gnostics of all kinds to embrace Jesus’s humanity - anticipates the remainder of our journey. Even though 1 John 2:22–23; 3:10; 4:3; 5:10–12; and 2 John 7 can be considered offensive to Jews, the polemic in the epistles seems to target differing Gentiles, not ‘the Jews.’407 Estrangement When the author(s)/editors(s) of the canonical John criticize or downplay the disciples, they seem to be attempting to explain, and justify, to their audience the estrangement from the heritage of the Jewish founders (not their estrangement from mainstream Judaism). By John’s time, the theological dissonance and the emotional distress caused by the estrangement from the leaders of the movement were existential matters for Gentile believers. The tensions between the parties seem to have become an open and resentful confrontation; The implied denigration and criticism of the disciples who characterized the synoptics was no longer sufficient. In John, the gentile challenge to the authority of the Jewish followers of Jesus, reflected in the denigration and the delegitimizing of the disciples, intensifies. 176 For most scholars, the religious institution being attacked by the Johaninnes is Judaism.408 My contention is that the Johaninnes had no fellowship or relationship with mainstream-establishment Judaism, nor was it the theological adversary. Moreover, the ioudaioi against which Johannines are lashing-out are the ioudaioi who infuriate them: the Jewish followers of Jesus. They seem to be the establishment in the community from which the Gentile Johannines have seceded, and in the movement as a whole. They are the ones who considered the Johannine’ beliefs inadequate and lacking. They were, and will remain thereafter, a threat against which Gentile believers will struggle with - for the next two hundred years. I suspect that the Johannines underwent a process of secessionestrangement vis-a-vis the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers (not from ‘Judaism’). Multiple clues, themes, and motifs (some already embryonic in the synoptics) seem to corroborate this suspicion and anticipate much of our journey ahead: 1- John used the life-story of Jesus to explain and to justify to his community the estrangement from the Jewish leadership of the movement, not from Judaism. 2- Synagogues of descendants of the Jewish faction, where Jesus would be exalted and venerated (instead of rejected) would be a more obvious and emphatic place of worship for Gentile Johannines prior to the secession-expulsion. 3- Being the establishment in the community from which the Johannines were expelled or seceded, the descendants of the founding fathers would draw their dissenting fire.409 4- The denigration and the vilification of the disciples who did ‘not understand,’ who ‘abandoned’ and ‘denied’ Jesus, and ‘drew back and no longer went about with him’ is the creation of Gentile believers stating a claim against the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, not against Judaism. 5- Mainstream Jews would not be interested in the views of Gentiles on the divinity of a Jew whose messianic claims they had rejected. Therefore, an argument between Gentiles advocating the divinity of Jesus and ‘Jews’ opposing them may be deemed to have 177 occurred only if these Jews were the descendants of the founding fathers. 6- Some Gentiles were attracted to the Jewish faction because they were, at the time, the acknowledged guardians of his legacy. They were influential despite their Judaism, not on account of it. 7- There was no fellowship, and consequently no estrangement between Gentile Johannines and ‘mainstream Judaism.’ 8- Fellowship between orthodox Jews and Gentile followers of Jesus is too complex and unlikely, to be assumed. Assuming an attempted (but failed) fellowship with a community of Jewish followers of Jesus seems to better fit the text and the circumstances. 9- The debate about Judaism (not a debate with Judaism) became a ‘wedge issue’ that was used to sever the attraction that the Jewish founders had over some among the rank and file. 10- Whereas there was no theological incompatibility between followers of Jesus of Jewish origin and fellow Jews, there was an unbridgeable incompatibility between them and Gentile believers in Jesus—who rejected Judaism and gravitated toward the divinity of Jesus. Further support for the contention that Jewish followers of Jesus were the targets of the later layer of abuse dispensed against the ioudaioi in the gospel: a) In most current scholarship the attacks on Peter (13:23–26; 18:15– 16; 20:2–10; 21:7, 20–23).410 are understood as targeting the Apostolic Church. The Apostolic Church, the Pauline term used to describe the Apostolic Synagogue (the Jewish followers of Jesus), may have surfaced to bypass and obscure the Jewish grounding of the founders of the Jesus movement.411 b) The upstaging of the Jewish followers of Jesus by the Johannines, one of the most explicit and direct corroborations we have for the argument that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers were an imminent threat underwriting the gospel:412 c) The community of the beloved disciple,’ rather than Jesus’s disciples and first followers were in intimate contact with Jesus 178 (13:23–26). It is the Johannine community that accompanied Jesus into the dangers of the court of the high priest. The Jewish followers of Jesus enter the court with the help of the Johannine community (18:15–16). d) The Johannine community claimed that it had been present at the cross and was given privileges and responsibilities upstaging Jesus’s disciples and first followers who, according to John and the synoptics, denied Jesus and fled (19:26–27). e) The Johannine community outruns the Jewish followers of Jesus in a theological race to the empty tomb and they ‘believe.’ By implication, their Jewish opponents do not (20:2–10). f) The Johannine community recognizes the risen Jesus standing on the shore of the lake and tells the Jewish followers of Jesus who Jesus is (21:7). g) Finally, the risen Jesus wishes the Johannine community to remain where it is theologically, until he returns (21:20–23). This upstaging and subordination, of Jesus’s disciples and first followers by the Johannines, is not a peculiar oddity; it is reflective of a Johannine challenge to the descendants of the Jewish founders. The segments cited here are unique in the canon in that the estrangement between the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and Gentile believers is rather explicit. Furthermore: In John 6:41–71 we have an intriguing story where the Johannines seem to acknowledge the fact that their claims about Jesus would be unacceptable to ‘the twelve.’ The Johannines were aware that their beliefs, as reflected in 6:41–60, were unacceptable to the Jewish leadership, and they enlist Peter to defend their position. The casting of ‘after this many of his (Jesus) disciples drew back and no longer went about with him’ is designed to enhance the claim that the disciples ‘abandoned’ Jesus. By casting those who did not agree with their theology as ‘not understanding,’ ‘denying’ or ‘abandoning’ Jesus, the Johannines (and Gentiles elsewhere in the canon) successfully obscured their opposition to the legacy of those chosen by Jesus to be his successors. 179 If we divest the adversarial casting of the text, we find that the debate at the core of the Gentile layer of the gospel is about Jesus’s divinity. When the author of the canonical John states: ‘making himself equal with god’ (5:18), and makes him god ‘you, being a man, make yourself god’ (10:33), he may be presenting to his audience, in narrative form, the ‘higher’ Christology of the Johannines as against the ‘low’ Christology of the Jerusalem faction. The divinity of Jesus was an argument between the Johannines and the Jewish sectarians from which they had seceded, or by whom they had been rejected—not with ‘establishment Judaism.’’ debates about whether Jesus was closer to the divine savior of the Pagan and Zoroastrian heritage or to the human messiah of the Jewish tradition—would have taken place between followers of Jesus of Jewish and Pagan origin. ‘After chapter 4 the reader encounters a ‘high’ Christology and a sharp conflict with the ‘ioudaioi’ (i.e., followers of Jesus of Jewish origin) who, per their Jewish heritage, object vigorously to the deification of the Johannine Jesus.’413 References to ‘people who believe but fear to confess’ (John 7:12–13; 9:22; 12:42; 16:2; 19:3) seem to castigate Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish followers of Jesus. From a Johannine perspective, they are seen as hypocrites who know in their hearts that they are wrong about Jesus’s divinity but remain attached to the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founders. This Johannine perspective attempts to negate that some Gentiles were genuine sympathizers with the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. A strong undertow+ In the next chapters, we will encounter a steep escalation in polemical rhetoric. We may ask: why, and as a consequence of what socio-theological context, did an anti-Jewish flood burst at the threshold of the second century and became a polemical deluge? It seems that at the dawn of the second century a strong undertow was sweeping many Gentile believers in an anti-Jewish direction. As we transit into the second century, we will encounter this phenomenon throughout the literature of that period. We have already noted that this peculiar shift is too sweeping, and too broad, to be assigned to John’s influence due to the fact that John’s gospel was at first popular among Gnostics and shunned by the Paulines. 180 Anticipating later conclusions, I will suggest that the end of the first century was the threshold into the central and pivotal crisis of the second and third centuries: the eruption onto the surface of a multilateral struggle about identity, legitimacy, and ascendancy that was brewing in the hearts and minds of believers and followers of Jesus since the emergence of the Pauline, Marcionite and Gnostic missions to the Gentiles. This protracted and inconclusive conflict will dominate the second and third centuries and will fade away gradually during the fourth and fifth. In John, we encounter in embryonic form some of the protagonists who will take part in the debates of the next three centuries: the descendants of the Jewish founders and their Gentile sympathizers, and Pauline and non-Pauline Gentiles. Rensberger and others have noted the sectarian origins of proto-John,414 but lacking an alternative socio-theological narrative, the yield of these insights has not been fully harvested: ‘It has simply not seemed apparent that the group conflicts and social patterns that were formative for the Johannine writings might have theological meaning not only for the Johannine community itself but also for modern readers.’415 from my perspective, Rensberger is headed in the right direction, but he does not harvest the full bounty of his insight due to the Pauline narrative that dominates the field. Thus, when he states that ‘the fourth gospel represents a heretical offensive against orthodoxy, i.e., the orthodoxy of the synagogue authorities.’416 I would rephrase: although in both cases the targets are Jews, the first layer of the fourth gospel reflects anti-Jewish-establishment sentiment among Jewish followers of Jesus. The second layer of the fourth gospel represents a later sectarian offensive by Gentile Johannines against orthodoxy—this time the orthodoxy of the Jewish founders of the movement, from which they have found themselves estranged. De Jonge’s analysis of John seems to be remarkably close to the views advocated here. Namely, that John’s polemic does not seem to reflect a dispute with traditional Jews. Rather, it seems to reflect a controversy with followers of Jesus of Jewish origin or with their Gentile sympathizers, who maintain a different Christological understanding from John’s own group.417 181 Current dilemmas+ Many attempts have been made to understand John’s anti-ioudaioi invective. However, most scholars have not fully freed themselves from the Pauline narrative and the conflict between the Johannines and Judaism remains the consensus background for the fourth gospel.418 The Roman context of the Gospel has also come center stage.419 During the last decades, scholars have attempted a variety of strategies to deflate the theological implications of the Johannine anti-Jewish rhetoric:420 Explicitly or implicitly, all the authors who discuss the alleged anti-Judaism of the fourth gospel use certain reading strategies that allow them to safeguard the authority of the sacred text despite the presence of ethically problematic content.421 The critical theological issues, therefore, revolve around the question of whether supersessionism, with its attendant rejection of Judaism, is essential to Christianity.422 The first results about the anti-Judaism [the gospel] contains were produced by a comparison of his account of the passion with the accounts in the synoptic gospels. The result was: (a) the gospel of John emphasizes the innocence of Pilate more than any of the other New Testament gospels; (b) hand in hand with this it incriminates the Jews most over their responsibility for the death of Jesus.423 Many scholars argue that the gospel’s negative comments about the ioudaioi are not a reflection of anti-Judaism but rather an expression of a prolonged and violent controversy between the Johannine community and ‘the Jews’ in the wake of the ‘expulsion from the synagogue.’424 J. L. Martyn argued that the expulsion from the synagogue of those who confess Jesus to be the Christ is related to the insertion of a curse against heretics into the twelfth 182 benediction of the Amidah, a central daily prayer.425 The argument was that the inclusion of this curse, known as Birkat Haminim,426 was intended to expose Jewish followers of Jesus and to force a decision on their part – triggering secession. Reinhardt427 surveyed the proponents of this view428 as well as the growing number who oppose the basic premises of this position (that is, the connection between the Johannine expulsion-secession and the Birkat Haminim). The benediction seems to be a later collective and generic repudiation of heretics that was expanded to include the Jewish followers of Jesus. The benediction is not concerned with Gentile believers in Jesus. It was (apparently) designed to dissuade Jewish followers of Jesus from leading Jewish religious services. The conundrum that John forces upon scholars reverberates throughout the discourse: ‘It would be incredible for a twentieth-century Christian to share or justify the Johannine contention that ‘the Jews’ are the children of the devil, an affirmation which is placed on the lips of Jesus; but I cannot see how it helps contemporary Jewish-Christian relationships to disguise the fact that such an attitude once existed.’429 The dilemma is showcased by the conclusions reached by the editors of Anti-Judaism and the fourth gospel:430 1. There are some dimensions in the way in which the fourth gospel treats Judaism and the Jews that we consider to be expressions of anti-Judaism (against those who propose escape routes). We find it impossible to relegate anti-Judaism to the marginal aspects of the text and to deny that, in one way or another, it reaches to the core of the Christian message. We find it hard to escape the conclusion that the anti-Judaism in the text of John is intrinsically oppressive, that is, we are convinced that in these cases human sinfulness has in some way touched the core of biblical texts. The expression intrinsically oppressive is 183 not intended to mean that the scriptures contain nothing but oppressive aspects. Rather, as we shall see, despite the all-pervasiveness of the consequences of human sin, we are convinced that the scriptures transcend their own intrinsically oppressive aspects. 2. We count the anti-Judaism that we find in the scriptures among the intrinsically oppressive dimensions and not among the revelatory dimensions, invested with divine authority. They are therefore totally unacceptable from a Christian point of view (against neo-Nazis). 3. Because of the all-pervasiveness of human sin, we do not find convincing any solutions that try to eliminate the anti-Jewish statements from scripture by ascribing them to later redactions (against literary-critical solutions). We reject attempts to create a canon within the canon by ascribing revelatory authority only to the words of Jesus or to the texts of the original writers (as eyewitnesses?) and none to the later redactors. We thus affirm three convictions: (i) the fourth gospel contains anti-Jewish elements; (ii) the anti-Jewish elements are unacceptable from a Christian point of view; and (iii) there is no convincing way simply to neutralize or to remove the anti-Jewish dimensions of these passages in order to save the healthy core of the message itself. Thus, despite the impressive progress in deconstructing the anti-Jewish strand in John, the fundamental dilemma still stands. The hermeneutical challenge for Christian interpreters is to find a way to interpret the gospel as a document of faith for contemporary Christian communities that recognizes its indebtedness to Judaism and responds to its anti-Jewish polemic.’431 184 My John+ It is widely acknowledged that the writers of the canonical gospels used the setting of Jesus’s ministry to convey to their audiences’ socio-theological messages about their own circumstances and tribulations.432 Like the other canonical gospels, the setting in John is Jesus’s lifetime, but issues and arguments relevant and contemporary to the author(s)/editor(s) and to their audiences permeate the text. Thus, not altogether dissimilar from the situation in the synoptics, there is a growing consensus that the experiences of the Johannine Jesus, and the expulsion from ‘the synagogue,’ reflect the tribulations of the Johannine community, rather than those of the historical Jesus. Despite its multivalent meaning, ‘The evangelist uses the category of ‘the Jews’ (ioudaioi) as a watershed term to characterize followers and believers in Jesus who are anti-Johannine.’433 In John, the term ‘ioudaioi’ seems to target Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement - a rhetorical and metaphorical mirror against which the (Gentile) Johannines defined themselves. Our overriding concern is to understand why, and due to what circumstances, they did come to stand in front of a mirror, why was it a ‘Jewish’ mirror, and why they saw the reflections that they did. The multivalent ioudaioi phantom may have allowed the Gentile leadership to drive a wedge between followers of Jesus of Jewish origin and the rank and file of the Jesus movement, without appearing irreverent toward the founding fathers. Moreover, older traditions that originated among the founding faction were claimed and incorporated by Gentiles who may have been affiliated with their synagogues at first, but at a later stage established communities of their own. Such spin-offs would display the double-layered ‘anti-Jewish’ anger that we encounter in John: rhetoric by Jewish sectarians against the Jewish establishment intertwined with rhetoric by Gentiles against the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement. Furthermore, the later translation of ioudaioi to ‘Jews,’ exacerbated the consequences of the deployment of the term in John (whereas the multiple meanings of “ioudaioi” required a nuanced reading of the text, its translation to “the Jews” exacerbated the anti-Jewish undertone). Whether intentional or unintended, this ‘bundling’ by the Gentile literati and ideologues (of orthodox Jews, Jewish followers of Jesus, Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction, Gentile sympathizers 185 with orthodox Judaism, and differing Gentile believers)434 into the multivalent ioudaioi, and its univalent translation into ‘the Jews’ eventually fostered a militant, intense, and undifferentiated antagonism against all Jews. In John, we witness a variant of a phenomenon we already encountered in Matthew: the migration of Judean anti-Jewish-establishment hyperbole to the hearts and minds of Gentiles where, unrestrained by the mitigating and restraining effect of kinship, it metastases and becomes virulent. The theologian Peter Tomson reached similar conclusions when he stated that in John, an internal polemic against fellow-Jews is transposed to an explicit non-Jewish framework and acquires a strong polemical effect.435 The suggested trajectory of the Johannine community and their literary corpus clarifies the odd coexistence of pro-Jewish segments as ‘salvation is from the ioudaioi’ (4:22) that may have originated in the Jewish proto-John, with the polemical intensity of the second layer. Beck, Tomson, and Townsend (a minority view) reached similar conclusions on this subject. In their view, the gospel’s relatively pro-Jewish elements seem to belong to the earlier stages of its development, while the more polemical aspects would have entered the text with later editing,436 a conclusion not dissimilar from my observations. Contrary to James’s and Matthew’s call for Torah observance, the theology of the second layer of John reflects a shift toward the divinity of Jesus, a development that would be anathema to the Jewish followers of Jesus. This may be an indication that whereas the canonical Matthew may reflect yearnings for continuity vis- à -vis the legacy of the Jewish founders, the Gentile Johannines seem to have rejected such continuity—propelling them toward the threshold of appropriation and supersession.437 Our ability to recapture the original context, the intended audience, and the identity of the adversaries is compromised by the fact that the two layers (proto-Johannine and Johannine) are now inexorably intertwined in the canonical text. I suggest that the Johaninnes are Gentiles who seceded from a community of Jewish followers of Jesus, laid claim to their lore, and made them into the targets of their ire. This phenomenon will shadow not only 186 our discussion of John, but of the next two centuries. In my view, the wide consensus about the secession of the Johaninnes from ‘the synagogue’ is reflective of a wide misconception of great consequence, obscures a complex trajectory, and distorts our understanding of the first three centuries of the Jesus tradition. The anti-Judaism of the fourth gospel has also been associated with processes of self-definition by some. Religious self-definition is a sociotheological process underpinned by factional struggles for identity, legitimacy, and ascendancy that are grounded in a specific experience. Therefore, as anticipated, secessionist communities like proto-Matthew and proto-John, who may have experienced estrangement from the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers would be expected to fashion an intense, militant, and double-layered text. Before we take leave of John, we may want to recapitulate: a. Wherever the adversaries are ‘Judean authorities’ (high priests, Pharisees, scribes etc.) the internal setting may suggest that protoJohannine Jewish followers of Jesus might be the protagonists. b. Since the proto-Johaninnes were descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, denigration of the disciples, of Judaism, and of Torah observance should not be said to originate with them – unless corroborated. c. The leaders and literati of the growing Gentile majority strived to create a wedge between the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and the rank and file, to whom Judaism was alien. d. As claims about the divinity of Jesus grow increasingly explicit and unequivocal, we are moving farther away from the proto-Johannine Jewish followers of Jesus. e. The univalent interpretation and translation of the multivalent ioudaioi as ‘the Jews’ facilitated, the emergence of the mythical ‘conflict between Judaism and Christianity.’ f. John was authored at a time when the Johannine position was a minority view. The fact that later Pauline believers embraced John obscures that fact. 187 Throughout the centuries, believers have developed a deep bond with the gospel of John and have counted on it to nurture their faith. However, the entanglement of sublime and polemical motifs, and the anti-Jewish message that emanates from literal readings of John is of great concern due to its impact on the souls of believers.438 Throughout history John has been used to legitimate, nurture, enable, and facilitate antisemitism. Beck, and others, have noted that because the members of the Johannine community expressed their strong anti-Jewish feelings not in their own name but in words-of-Jesus and in ministry-of-Jesus vehicles, it is difficult for us as latetwentieth-century believers to make this distinction, especially because the distinction has not been made during the past nineteen centuries.439 Given the content, it is no surprise that so many acts of violence and discrimination were inspired by the perceived anti-Jewish message of John.440 With the probable exception of Matthew 27:24–25, no other text has incited more polemical hatred and violence than this sublime, but disturbing, rendition of Jesus’s life and death. The anti-Jewish motif in John epitomizes the dilemma of modern believers: should sacred lore contain and legitimate denigration, vilification, and hatred of Jews and of Judaism - even if these attitudes originate in misreading, mistranslation, misperception, and misinterpretation of the original intent and context? 188 *Revelation Introduction The adversaries Conclusions Introduction+ From the reformation to modernity, the book of Revelation has captured the imagination and the emotional allegiance of countless believers. Favored by enthusiasts, the text’s fascination with violence and suffering has been viewed with suspicion by those concerned with the impact of fiery and extreme imagery on believers. Matthew, James and the book of Revelation are considered by many to be the most ‘Jewish-Christian’ texts in the New Testament. Revelation uses Gematria (Hebrew numerology), stands on Jewish apocalyptic traditions, and the Greek in this document contains more Hebraisms than any other New Testament writing441 - hinting that Revelation had been influenced by Judaism, whether directly or through the agency of the Jewish followers of Jesus. I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich) and the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not but are a synagogue of Satan. Do not fear what you are about to suffer. behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation. be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life. (rev. 2:9–10) 189 Behold, I will make those of the synagogue of Satan who say that they are Jews and are not, but lie—behold, I will make them come and bow down before your feet and learn that I have loved you. (rev. 3:9) [+pg 134] The adversaries ‘Revelation is the New Testament example par excellence of anti-imperial resistance literature,’442 and its main intended adversary is Rome. However, it’s characterization of ‘the Jews’ (mainstream Jews, the Jewish followers of Jesus, and the Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction) – a secondary theme in the text, requires our attention. The enigmatic accusations in Revelation 2:9–10 and 3:9 (above), part of two letters to believers in Jesus in Smyrna and Philadelphia, have bewildered scholars for centuries. Traditional scholarship has read Revelation 2:9–10 and 3:9 as targeting local Jews, instructing us that the community reflected in the apocalypse of John struggled with ‘Jews’ ca. 80–100 CE. These verses target those ‘who say that they are Jews and are not’ during the last decades of the first century. As it pertains to our survey, our main question is whether these segments originated among early Jewish followers of Jesus (where audience and adversaries are Jews), in an internal debate within the Jesus movement (where both parties are followers of Jesus),443 or in Jewish-Christian interreligious tensions.444 Thus, whether Revelation 2:9 and 3:9 represent a Jewish sectarian view of mainstream Judaism, a Gentile view of Judaism or an internal struggle within the Jesus movement is the question before us. There are four theoretical possibilities as to the identity of the intended adversaries: 1. Mainstream Jews (Jewish non-believers in Jesus). 2. Gentile sympathizers with Judaism (Gentile Judaizes) 3. Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish followers of Jesus. 190 4. The descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. Mainstream Jews - The view that the adversaries of the author of Revelation were Jewish non-believers in Jesus is compatible with the current metanarrative about the ‘conflict between Judaism and Christianity.’ this view sees the Jewish Christian saga as resulting from tensions between the two faiths. The arguments put forward by supporters of this traditional reading are: first, they are called a ‘synagogue of Satan’ (2:9–10),445 a curious nomenclature for any other than Jews. Second, there seems to be an attempt to associate the adversaries with persecution and imprisonment446 of Gentile believers, an accusation later voiced against ‘the Jews.’ Gentile sympathizers with Judaism - per current scholarship, Paul provides evidence for the existence of Gentile sympathizers with Judaism in the same geographical area, a few decades prior to Revelation’s authorship.447 This evidence would be supportive of the identification of Revelation’s immediate adversaries as Gentile Judaizes. Indeed, the author of Revelation seems to deploy the term ‘Jew’ in the same way that the gospel of John and Epictetus do; to refer to Jewish ethnicity and to affinity to Judaism. The opponents referred to in 2:9–10 and 3:9—identified as part of the ‘synagogue of Satan’ in Smyrna and Philadelphia—are claiming to be Jewish but are not. Therefore, John’s vitriol may be aimed at Gentiles who falsely claimed to be Jews and followed a Jewish lifestyle.448 It has also been suggested that some Gentile believers in Asia Minor were identifying themselves as Jews to escape Roman harassment, given that the Jews had a unique and prestigious position in the Roman world and were not required to sacrifice to the Roman gods. By claiming to be Jews, Gentile believers in Jesus would avoid the fate that some were experiencing at the hands of the Romans. Therefore, if Gentile sympathizers with Judaism are in view in Revelation, a further motive for Judaizing may be operative here: fear of persecution by the Romans.449 191 Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish followers of Jesus - those who (in the author’s eyes) falsely claimed to be Jews could, of course, have been Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction, some of which may have converted to Judaism.450 As noted in our discussion of the gospel of John, this argument is strengthened by the observation that the leap from Gentile belief in Jesus to establishment Judaism451 is too great to be assumed, especially when synagogues of descendants of the Jewish founders (where Jesus would be exalted and venerated instead of rejected) would be a more obvious and more emphatic place of worship for Gentile believers. Therefore, contrary to the current consensus, Gentile believers would be attracted to the synagogues of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers because they were perceived by many to be the true guardians of his legacy, not on account of Gentile attraction to Judaism. That Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction are involved may be supported by Ignatius in his letter to the Philadelphians, at approximately the same time of Revelation’s authorship. Thus, if Revelation 2:9–10 and 3:9 aim at Gentile sympathizers with the descendants of the founding fathers, these accusations would not reflect a struggle between Jews and Christians. Rather, they point to a conflict among Gentile followers of Jesus, one side favoring a strong Jewish affiliation, the other calling for rejection of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. In this case, the main motivating factor behind worship at the synagogue would be fellowship with the descendants of the founding fathers, not attraction to Judaism. Attraction to Judaism would be a consequence, not the cause, of this behavior. The descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers - in Revelation the immediate targets seem to be those whose attendance of Jewish synagogues is suspect, not those who would normally worship there. However, Revelation’s author may be targeting the influence of the descendants of the founding fathers among his congregants. A neo-traditionalist reading of Revelation may be plausible if we assume that the anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric that characterized the posturing of Jewish sectarians toward the Jewish mainstream could be operative here. If we assume that an earlier version of Revelation originated in a community of Jewish followers of Jesus, 2:9–10 and 3:9 may be read as ‘Qumran-like’ classical Jewish sectarian 192 posturing toward mainstream Jews, who may be seen by the pro-Johannine author as unworthy and false Jews.452 Conclusions+ Although ‘… no critical interpreter of Revelation … doubts that it was intended as an all-out attack on imperial Rome,’453 Revelation is cryptic and enigmatic and does not yield the identity of its secondary adversaries. My inclination for setting Revelation’s authorship within the Jesus movement is reinforced by the fact that no intrinsic Jewish themes (Torah observance, dietary law, Sabbath observance, the covenant, etc.) are debated. Revelation not only rallies against ‘those who say they are Jews and are not,’ it also rallies against believers in Jesus with Pagan inclinations and affiliations in the letter to believers in Pergamum (rev. 2:14) and in the letter to believers in Thyatira (rev. 2:20). The final text of Revelation seems concerned with both; believers attracted to the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, and those with Pagan inclinations and affiliations—strengthening the internal setting option. Revelation showcases a conflict between the author/editor of the canonical text and followers of Jesus with varying degrees of Jewish and Pagan affinities, affiliations, and inclinations—pointing to a debate within the Jesus movement. Therefore, the debate would not be with Paganism or Judaism. Rather, the debate seems to be about Paganism and Judaism. It seems to me that we can detect an external enemy (the Romans)454 and internal foes (the descendants if the Jewish founders and differing Gentiles). I am inclined to think that at this early stage, and for most of the texts presented in this section, the underlying and defining socio-theological process is a struggle about identity, authority, and legitimacy between the Jerusalem faction and the Gentile forms of belief in Jesus that surfaced following the Missions to the Gentiles. Revelation may reflect a setting not dissimilar to Matthew and John, where a tradition of anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric that originated with the founding faction may have been appropriated-subverted and turned against them, as the establishment group within the Jesus movement. The text 193 reflects a period of significant flux and lack of theological consolidation. As it pertains to our goal of tracking the evolution of Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement, whether the religious opponents are ‘Jews,’ Jewish believers in Jesus, or Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction - the historical context does not favor a conflict between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ Revelation contributes to our quest to decipher Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement by further corroborating the hold that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers had over new converts not the attraction that mainstream Judaism exerted over them. 194 Crisis in the Jesus movement *Summary+ In this section we did attempt to engage some of the questions that emerge out of the early years of Jewish-Gentile relations within the Jesus movement: why some recent converts (from Paganism to Gentile forms of belief in Jesus) yearned for the legitimacy inherent in the Hebrew scriptures? why and how they did emulate-appropriate the anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric of Jewish sectarians? why and how did anti-Judaism emerge as a cornerstone of Pauline belief in Jesus? why did Gentile believers in Jesus embrace the fate of the Jewish followers of Jesus as their own, while engaged in a campaign to erode their status as the custodians of Jesus’ legacy? Furthermore, why does the anti-Judaic ire increase as the distance (in time, geography and cultural background) between the author and the events grow? why is it that as we transit from Mark to later authors, the claims about the responsibility regarding Jesus’ death widen and ultimately include all ‘the Jewish people’? why does the canonical anti-Judaic bent pale in comparison to what is to come in the second century? if the Jewish responsibility for Jesus death’ was a known fact - why this crescendo? why the intensification in the defamation of ‘Jews’ and of ‘Judaism’ as we travel further away from Jesus’ lifetime? ‘Anti-Jewish’ sentiment in the texts is symptomatic of an underlying crisis; it is a barometer by which we can assess the intensity of the emotions associated with the estrangement between Jews and Gentiles in the Jesus movement. At the dawn of the second century tensions in the Jesus movement between the ‘founding fathers’ and most Gentile believers had been brewing for decades, did reach a boiling point, and did erupt in a burst of unrestrained anti-Jewish sentiment. 195 I have come to suspect that there might be a symbiotic relationship between several phenomena that dominate the later decades of the first century (the Jewish war, the destruction of the temple, the decimation of the communities of the Jewish faction in Judea during that war, and the gradual transition from the initial tensions between Jews and non-Jews within the Jesus movement - to a more overt and intense struggle). These events seem to be correlated. It seems to me, that the vacuum of leadership, and of authority, created by the decimation (during the Jewish War) of the communities of the Jewish followers of Jesus may have opened a window of opportunity for the non-Jewish majority. As the strongholds of the Jewish faction faded away, and the center of gravity of the Jesus movement gradually shifted from Torah-observant Jewish followers of Jesus to Gentile believers in Jesus, several Gentile strands with competing proto-theologies, gospels, and embryonic organizational structures, gained ground – and put forward increasingly assertive claims. Gentile believers, facing a crisis of identity and legitimacy vis-à-vis the Jewish faction, needed a legitimizing narrative that would acknowledge them as rightful believers in Jesus. The authorship of Gentile interpretations of Jesus’ ministry and legacy seems to address this yearning and seem to parallel the eruption onto the surface of the tensions that had been brewing up between the Jewish faction and the Gentile followers of Paul since the 50s of the first century. As time passes, attitudes become increasingly strident and differentiated. Trends and themes that were tentative in the first century become explicit and dominant as the confrontation among the feuding interpretations of belief in Jesus unfolds. Furthermore, it is noteworthy that, due to the Pauline control over final editing and canonization, the authoritative texts do not offer us a neutral and balanced presentation of the issues and arguments. Rather, for the most part, they reflect a Pauline perspective on the events. Furthermore, it seems that Gentiles who were attracted to the descendants of the founders provoked strong polemical reactions from ecclesiastical leaders who, through their criticism of Jews and Jewish customs, sought to 196 dissuade members of their congregations from such behavior.455 It seems that Pauline leaders concluded that if the addressees are to be motivated to remain faithful to their interpretation of Jesus’s legacy, they must be persuaded that their views are true and superior vis- à -vis those of the descendants of the founding fathers, which stood on Judaism. As texts containing the rhetoric and the polemic accompanying these conflicts became increasingly authoritative, anti-Jewish attitudes were exacerbated, legitimized, and sanctified. The debate, as reflected in the textual tradition that has survived, is framed around the ‘wedge’ issues that brought about the victory of the Pauline faction. The ambivalence, if not outright rejection, that most Gentile believers felt toward the traditions and customs of the Jewish followers of Jesus (Torah observance, the covenant, the law, circumcision and dietary customs) emerged as the centerpiece of the Pauline drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus and to demote the descendants of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement. The intense focus on these idiosyncrasies seems to indicate that they were considered (by the Pauline leadership) the weaknesses, the ‘soft belly,’ of the Jewish faction. It is not surprising, therefore, that the challenge to the authority and to the legitimacy of the descendants of the founding fathers seems to have morphed into a visceral attack on these beliefs and traditions. This strategy was not, as far as we know, articulated explicitly. Rather, facing opponents whose legitimacy as the authoritative guardians and custodians of Jesus’ legacy could not be challenged, the Pauline leaders and literati gravitated toward the deployment of those wedge issues that seemed most promising and effective in severing the attraction that their adversaries exerted over the rank and file. This attack by proxy became an ingrained tradition and was eventually successful. Furthermore, we do know that sometime during the second half of the first century some Gentile believers in Jesus started to think, perceive, and express themselves as Jewish anti-establishment sectarians. Around this time, Pauline believers began emulating-appropriating the anti-establishment rhetoric of Judean sectarians, Qumran’s Pesher exegesis, and several 197 messianic and eschatological references in the Hebrew Scriptures.456 How this migration of lore and self-perception did take place is one of the open questions that accompany the emergence of Gentile forms of belief in Jesus. Typology, the Pesher method of exegesis pioneered by Qumran used forward looking verses in the Hebrew Scriptures to validate Qumran’s narrative, ideology, and theology. From Qumran forward, this method of harnessing the Hebrew Scriptures to justify sectarian, messianic, and eschatological claims was available to sectarian and apocalyptic Jews - who used it to delegitimize their Jewish adversaries, and to claim being the New Israel and the new People of God. We have noted that it is extremely unlikely that early Pauline believers in Jesus, mostly recent converts from Paganism, developed on their own, a typological interpretation of a religious tradition alien to them. Therefore, we must assume that the Pesher method and the harvesting of messianic and eschatological references in the Hebrew Scriptures did gravitate to the Pauline repertoire through the agency of the Jewish followers of Jesus, or through other Jewish sectarians, possibly Qumran. Indeed, like other Judean sectarians, typology may have been used by the Jewish followers of Jesus to support their claim to Jesus’ messianic status, to cement their claim to being the New Israel, and to chastise their Jewish adversaries. It seems plausible therefore, that as Pauline believers found themselves estranged from, and in conflict with, the Jewish followers of Jesus (the authoritative guardians of Jesus’ legacy) they begun to copy-incorporateappropriate their posturing toward the Jewish mainstream, and their use of typology – and turned them against them. Thus, they used typology to ground the Pauline strand of belief in Jesus on the authority of the Hebrew Scriptures, and they emulated the posturing of Judean sectarians toward the Jewish mainstream in their anti-establishment drive within the Jesus movement. This suggested trajectory became central to Pauline identity, and gradually gave birth to supersession theology (the subject of the next chapter). 198 Furthermore, we seem to stand on solid ground if we assume that the appropriation-incorporation of texts in the Hebrew Bible that say that YHWH will come in judgment and salvation (e.g., Isa. 40:10 in Rev. 22:12; Isa. 59:20-21 in Rom. 11:26-27; Isa. 66:15-16 in 2 Thess. 1:7-8, 12; Zech. l4:5b in 1 Tess. 3:13; 2 Thess. 1:7; 4:14; cf. 1 Enoch 1:9 in Jude 14-1 5)457 may have originated among the Jewish followers of Jesus. A similar phenomenon seems to have occurred with other messianic and eschatological references in the Hebrew scriptures: the main Pesher texts in Qumran are of the prophetic and messianic segments in Habakkuk, Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, Nahum, and the book of Psalms, which are also popular typological texts in the New Testament. Facing an uphill, vitriolic, and rancorous struggle for legitimacy against Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement and standing on a stillevolving theology and a chaotic constituency - Pauline leaders and intellectuals seem to have gravitated toward a strategy built on the belittling of the disciples and on the denigration of their beliefs and traditions. They also opted for the subversion and the appropriation of elements, themes, and motifs quarried from their adversaries’ traditions and texts. Pauline leaders and intellectuals crafted their narratives from within this context of estrangement and vitriol vis-à-vis the Jewish followers of Jesus, a reality that shaped and deeply influenced their accounts of the birth of belief in Jesus. By interpreting the Hebrew Scriptures and the Jewish traditions of prophetic exhortation and self-criticism out of their historical context, and by appropriating the founders’ identity (The New Israel, The People of God) and their anti-Jewish-establishment lore - Pauline leaders and intellectuals eventually crafted a strategy that was, in the long run, successful in deJudaizing belief in Jesus. In the anti-Jewish-establishment traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus and other Judean sectarians, Pauline leaders found a ‘ready to deploy’ arsenal that could be used to demote the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement. This polemical lore may have been a trove of anti-establishment polemical arrows that Gentile believers did use to demote the Jewish followers of Jesus from their position as the custodians of Jesus’ legacy. This rhetorical arsenal was originally deployed by the Jewish followers of Jesus against mainstream Judaism, and migrated to the texts, lips, and souls of 199 Pauline believers. This migration would have occurred as Paulines escalated their posturing vis-à-vis the Jewish leadership of the Jesus movement, and moved from the initial demand to be acknowledged as rightful believers in Jesus, to the destitution and substitution (the supersession-replacement) of the Jewish founders as the keepers of Jesus’ legacy. However, contrary to Judean sectarians who used this rhetoric to reform Judaism, Paulines wanted to eradicate Judaism from the Jesus movement. This more militant outlook, inclined them to de-contextualize, expand, and intensify the appropriated polemic – propelling them towards extreme supersessionary claims. As Pauline theologians incorporated Jewish sectarian, messianic, eschatological, salvation, and judgement passages in the Hebrew Scriptures to claim the legitimacy and authenticity of the Pauline narrative - a cyclical and selffulfilling sequence was created. The Pauline worldview, mindset, and predispositions were reinforced when believers encountered them in the sacred Jewish literature— the source from which they were appropriated in the first place. A growing number of scholars support the view that the reaction of ecclesiastical leaders to this situation was a major cause for the proliferation of anti-Jewish sentiment in the early church. Per these scholars, Judaizing was not (as had often been assumed) restricted to the first generation of gentile believers in Jesus, but remained an urgent and troublesome issue. The influence and the sympathy that the founding fathers enjoyed was the existential threat that incensed the Pauline leadership and fueled resentful and vicious attacks on them, and on their beliefs and traditions. I suggest that, rather than active ‘Jewish’ proselytizing, affinity to Judaism within the Jesus movement originates in the influence that the Jewish faction and its Gentile sympathizers exerted over the Gentile rank and file. This influence originates in the status of the founding faction as the acknowledged descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers, and as the original custodians and interpreters of his heritage and legacy. This affinity persisted even though their customs and traditions were major stumbling blocks for most Gentiles. The growing tensions between the Jewish minority and its sympathizers on one side and the non-Jewish majority on the other - were the gateway to the 200 multilateral confrontation of the second and third centuries. The Jewish facet of this multilateral confrontation is the focus of this monograph and seems to have been, during the first century, the central arena of the struggle. However, to maintain a proper perspective on the events unfolding before us, we need to remember that the strife among the various strands of Gentile belief in Jesus was no less intense, nor less visceral. Eventually, the struggle against the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers was diluted in the collective memory of the movement. Misinterpretation, misrepresentation, and loss of context also contributed to transforming this conflict against internal opponents who were Jews, into a struggle against external Judaism—thereby shielding the emerging orthodoxy from the embarrassing implications of the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus and of the demotion and delegitimizing of the descendants of those chosen by Jesus to be the custodians of his legacy. By shifting the debate away from the weak flank of the Pauline argument (the fact that their adversaries were the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, and therefore the presumptive custodians of his legacy) and framing the debate around beliefs and traditions that most Gentiles found strange and idiosyncratic, early Pauline intellectuals crafted a strategy that eventually led to a growing alienation of Gentile believers from the founding faction. This tactical positioning helps us understand the Pauline choice of emphases, themes, motifs, and rhetorical ploys. This demotion by proxy will become an ingrained tradition that, with the passage of time and loss of context, will be projected, misinterpreted, and misrepresented as a conflict with Judaism—obscuring the theologically awkward demotion and marginalizing of the descendants of those chosen by Jesus to be the custodians of his legacy. Later writers will expand on this foundation by attacking a wide range of institutions, beliefs, and traditions associated with the founding fathers (Torah observance, the temple, the covenant, circumcision, and dietary laws being the ‘wedge issues’ of preference). However, one peculiar tactic will remain constant throughout the efforts to demote the founding faction; they are seldom acknowledged as the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and they are seldom attacked explicitly and frontally—although, from nuance and context, the 201 addresses would know the identity of the intended adversaries. Whereas Mark hints that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers did not understand Jesus’s legacy and abandoned him, the appropriation thrust of later Paulines reaches deeper; they claim that the true meaning of the Israelite journey is to be understood and deciphered by non-Jews. Written from the perspective of the de-Judaizing camp, the literature of the next centuries is often highly abusive to Jewish sensibilities. Despite the slowly growing realization that the descendants of the founding fathers persisted in their embrace of Judaism, and despite the growing awareness about the existence and importance of Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction, adherence to the beliefs of the founding fathers is still cast by some modern scholars as Judaizing, weakness, defection, apostasy or return. Given that, throughout the centuries that concern us, we witness a persistent drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus (not a drive to Judaize it) this casting of the issues is intriguing. Indeed, the self-referential and recurring inference that continuity with the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers is tantamount to apostasy from belief in Jesus is dominant throughout the tradition. This is a peculiar argument given that, at the time, the Pauline interpretation of Jesus’s legacy championed discontinuity (apostasy) from the beliefs and traditions embraced by Jesus and by those chosen by him to be the guardians of his legacy. Therefore, and contrary to most presentations, attraction to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers among Gentiles should be seen as affinity to things ‘as they were,’ as opposition to change—rather than a relapse or apostasy. Furthermore, reading traditional scholarship one gets the impression that the choice was between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ However, at the time, the choice for recent converts was between nascent Gentile forms of belief in Jesus and the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement. 202 A Personal Note+ The first draft of this monograph was entitled ‘re-reading the New Testament’ and was intended as a report on my encounter with the unsettling anti-Judaic polemic in Paul and in the synoptic gospels. However, as my excursion progressed, I became aware of more extreme polemical incitement at the historical downstream (John, Hebrews, the church fathers, and other second- and third-century authoritative texts). I soon realized that Paul and the synoptics were only the preamble, the foundation, of what was to come. As I reached the periphery of the original range, I realized that the project was incomplete, that the issues had not been fully engaged and had not been brought to proper closure. Gradually, I came to the realization that I had surveyed the first floor of a towering edifice. Without yet having an understanding or a conceptual map of where I was going, I crossed the gateway into the second century, and the second phase of this work. My encounter with the polemical intensity of the texts ahead of us was disconcerting and gut-wrenching. Compared to the texts ahead of us, the original causes of my outrage felt tame, almost harmless. However, as I attempted to engage these new texts, paralysis took hold of me. I could not digest the new material; I could neither process it, nor write about it. Somehow, my verbal skills were inadequate to cope with the ever-increasing escalation. After many months of stalemate, I gradually realized what had happened: I had exhausted my emotional and expressive range. I had no conceptual space, no cognitive range, to accommodate the next phase of virulence. I had exhausted my ability to describe and grade the ever-growing abuse. When the reality you encounter has already overwhelmed your cognitive and verbal range, what terms do you use to describe further denigration? Eventually, I had to recalibrate and tone down my descriptions of the 203 invective of the previous phase, to create cognitive space for the more intense and virulent literature of the second and third centuries. In other words, I had to scale down the terminology used to describe the Pauline and the Synoptic challenge to the beliefs, authority, and traditions of the founding fathers, to free ‘derogatory range’ to accommodate the upcoming and more strident polemical phase. For our purposes, it is important to point out that the phase we are about to enter is the continuation, not the beginning, of a process. This next phase would not have come about without the foundation provided by the texts we have already surveyed. Strangely, we are both—fortunate and unfortunate. We are fortunate that most of the texts that were eventually canonized belong to the earlier phase, and that most of the texts that were authored during the second century did not become part of the New Testament. We are also unfortunate: the texts that were eventually canonized were written during the embryonic stages of belief in Jesus, a period of tensions between believers with pro- and anti-Jewish inclinations and affiliations. This tragic coincidence embedded a footprint of anti-Jewish sentiment in the canonical lore of the victorious faction and in the hearts and minds of believers. Furthermore, the Judeo-Gentile tensions were only one dimension of a multilateral crisis in the Jesus movement that lasted four centuries. This reality was obscured because most of the texts reflecting the anti-Pagan, and anti-Gnostic biases of the Pauline faction were authored after the canonical era and are not included in the New Testament – creating an artificial focus on the Judeo-Gentile dimension of the crisis. 204 Chapter 4 *Supersession Theology Introduction Hebrews Barnabas Summary Afterthoughts Introduction+ Supersession theology originates in the Pauline claim to the exclusive custody of Jesus’s legacy.458 Pauline believers gradually gravitated to the view that their interpretation of belief in Jesus replaced and superseded the beliefs and traditions embraced by Jesus and by his first followers. The appropriation, by Pauline believers, of the identity and lore of the Jewish founders, and the Pauline rejection of their core beliefs and traditions (both embryonic in the Gospels and expanded upon by the authors of Hebrews, Barnabas, and Justin) reach their most extreme articulation in supersession theology.459 The tensions and ambiguities inherent in the appropriate-supersede answer to the continuity-discontinuity dilemma vis- à -vis the founding fathers triggered the emergence of the appropriation-supersession phenomenon. The traditional Christian narrative included three elements: (a) to accept the Jewish meta-narrative; (b) to gut out some of its institutions, beliefs, and traditions; and (c) to appropriate the remaining narrative to vest a nonJewish edifice with legitimacy and antiquity. The theology of supersession is the reflection, elaboration and transformation of these socio-theological circumstances into a theological claim. The process by which Christianity 205 came to perceive itself as "the New Zion," sole inheritors of YHWH’s covenant with Israel, " "the New Israel," and by which the Jewish Bible was appropriated and became the Christian "Old Testament" are reflections and derivatives of the hostile takeover of the identity, beliefs and traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus by the Gentile followers of Paul. In this chapter I will attempt to summarize and map how the incorporationappropriation of the traditions and scriptures of the Jewish followers of Jesus by the Gentile followers of Paul eventually morphed into claims to the supersession of ‘Judaism’ by ‘Christianity,’ and into the Christian selfperception as the ¨New Israel¨ and the ¨New People of God. ¨ Arguments, originally deployed by the Jewish followers of Jesus against the Judean establishment (you have lost God’s favor, we are God’s new chosen, we are the New Israel, we embody a new covenant, the Temple and the priesthood are defiled and no longer authoritative, etc.…) were appropriated by Paulines intent on taking over the role of the Jewish followers of Jesus as the custodians of Jesus´ legacy. Originally, the Pauline challenge had four components: 1. Rejection of the main traditions espoused by Jesus and by his designated successors. 2. Appropriation of some of the traditions and texts of the Jewish followers of Jesus. 3. Appropriation of the identity and self-designations the New Israel, the people of God, the New Zion and God´s chosen. 4. The claim that Pauline believers in Jesus superseded and replaced the Jewish followers of Jesus. With the passage of time, loss of the original context and in the service of later agendas, these claims mutated into Christian claims to the supersession of Judaism. Although the original concerns, horizon, and adversaries of the Pauline authors were within the Jesus movement, once this original context was forgotten and obscured – the resulting projection onto Judaism transformed Hebrews and Barnabas into the cornerstones of the supersession-replacement of Judaism. Eventually, supersession was couched in extreme and unequivocal terms that claimed the replacement of Judaism, 206 by ‘Christianity’ in all things religious and ethical – a theological claim of grave and tragic consequences. In the ancient world, a ‘new religion’ was an oxymoron, an unacceptable contradiction. To the ancients, religions had to be ancient and archaic. Veneration and respect required antiquity. Thus, the primary supersessionary impetus that accompanied the challenge to the Jewish leadership of the Jesus movement, was reinforced by the need to provide the respectability associated with antiquity. In other words, the Pauline faction, lacking a past, a legitimizing lore, and an historical narrative to stand on, needed to fill that void. However, for the Paulines, benign and non-adversarial incorporationparticipation in the heritage of their adversaries was not an option. Their militant and exclusivist mindset drove them to claim the appropriation of the identity of their opponents, and the supersession-appropriation of their beliefs and traditions. Gradually, this mindset drove them to claim the dispossession of the Jewish followers of Jesus as the New Israel, and the People of God. As we are about to engage Hebrews and Barnabas, the standard bearers and explicit articulators of supersession theology,460 it is important to reiterate that a supersessionary impetus has accompanied us from Mark forward. However, whereas Hebrews’ and Barnabas’ aims and agendas are easier to decipher, Mark’s underwrite the narrative and must be speculated about. My placing of Hebrews and Barnabas in a separate chapter that engages supersession theology should not imply that the texts we have reviewed so far are free from supersessionist echoes: some of Paul’s immediate successors read his letters as supportive of supersession, and the supersessionist drumbeat is embryonic in Mark’s disciples who ‘did not understand,’ and abandoned Jesus in his moment of need. 207 208 *Hebrews Introduction Addressees and Context Theology Priesthood Covenant Sacrifice Hebrews and the Jewish Scriptures My Hebrews Introduction+ The author of Hebrews is viewed by many scholars as the foremost theologian of the New Testament,461 second only to Paul – requiring a central place in this monograph. The author’s Greek is widely praised as the most elegant in the NT. Among the canonical texts the author’s language skills are unsurpassed indicating that he was a highly educated and accomplished individual. Contemporary scholarship on Hebrews, and its stand on Judaism, is highly nuanced and differentiated. Some scholars consider that the primary aim of Hebrews was to prevent a relapse to ‘Judaism.’ Others, emphasize a general fatigue caused by the delay of the second coming, persecution, and waning enthusiasm.462 Although admittedly simplistic and introductory, scholars may be divided into those who are critical of the Epistle’s supersessionary message (including N. Beck, L. Freudman, J. Gager, and S. Sandmel), those somewhat sympathetic to his theological message (including D. Hagner, L. T. Johnson, W. Lane, B. Lindars, R. W. Wall), and those attempting a middle 209 ground (including H. W. Attridge, D. DeSilva, S. Lehne, S. G. Wilson, C. Williamson).463 Among contemporary approaches, socio-rhetorical models seem to have great promise for they emphasize the importance of approaching the text from multiple angles (analysis of narrator, plot, characters, setting, inner texture, and other aspects of the narrative or discourse).464 When Turner’s model465 is applied to Hebrews, the rhetoric of the author is seen as aimed at subverting the parent group and strengthening the norms and values of the new belief structure. In Hebrews, and throughout the tradition, the framework being subverted is the belief system of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, and the countercultural alternative is the author’s interpretation of belief in Jesus. As it pertains to our effort to understand Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement, Hebrews is a unique window into events ‘on the ground’ a couple of decades after Paul. The author of Hebrews, roughly contemporary with the Gospels’ authors, offers us a distinct view of the Jesus movement during the second half of the first century. Whereas the Gospels were authored as foundational narratives of Jesus’s ministry and therefore tend to insinuate and veil their agendas, Hebrews offers us a more explicit reflection of the tensions that accompanied the ‘push-and shove’ of theology in the making. Hebrews is viewed by many as the standard bearer and main articulator of supersession theology. Supersession is the view that Pauline believers replaced the founding fathers of the Jesus movement as the New Israel and were God´s new chosen. Supersession theology asserted that the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founders were superseded, replaced, and declared irrelevant by Paul’s interpretation of belief in Jesus. However, in most of the New Testament this unique phenomenon, which will occupy our attention from here onward, manifests itself in implied and subtle forms. Whereas the Synoptics restrained, veiled, and subdued their attacks on the descendants of the founding fathers, the authors of Hebrews and Barnabas offer us unfiltered views of the friction ‘in the trenches’ between Jews and Gentiles in the Jesus movement. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, argued that Jewish Law, the cornerstone of the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of the 210 founding fathers, had played a legitimate role in the past but was superseded by a new covenant (cf. Rom. 7:1–6; Gal. 3:23–25; Heb. 8, 10).466 However, Hebrews also goes beyond Paul and seems to attempt a more complex, nuanced, and openly adversarial definition of the Jewish-Gentile relationship. Hebrews is the earliest canonical text to engage openly and explicitly the battle against those who advocated continuity with the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. Thus, contrary to ingrained perceptions, the author of Hebrews is opposing continuity. Anticipating a later and more detailed engagement of the subject, it is important to note that at the time of authorship there was no consensus among Gentiles as to what belief in Jesus was, or should be. Different in style and theological emphases, Hebrews and Barnabas allow us seemingly independent attestations on this struggle and on the birth of supersession theology.467 However, whereas Hebrews originates in an educated mind and his theology and arguments are cerebral and clever, Barnabas originates in a hyper-militant, idiosyncratic, and bizarre mind. Future believers, guided by the guardians of dogma and orthodoxy, and influenced by the polemical strand in their lore, will tend to read these texts in anti-Jewish ways. Due to the importance of Hebrews for the formation of future attitudes toward Jews and Judaism, we must distinguish the author’s intent from the way in which the text was interpreted by future generations. The gap between intent and consequences is especially disheartening in Hebrews. Somewhat simplifying a rather complex reality, we may say that during the second half of the first century we can see the nascent stages of five groups that will vie for Jesus’ legacy, two of which (the Jewish followers of Jesus and their Gentile sympathizers)468 advocated continuity with Judaism. Other believers, Marcionite and Gnostics, advocated severing all ties with the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. The Pauline faction advocated an appropriate-incorporate but supersede approach. [+pg 156] 211 Addressees and Context Hebrews has been traditionally seen as reflective of a breach with Judaism, even though there is nothing in the epistle that necessitates the assertion that the author’s concerns, adversaries, audience, or horizon are outside the Jesus movement. Most scholars, both traditional and current, adhere to the view that the author of Hebrews juxtaposes ‘Christianity’ to ‘Judaism’ even though the author does not use the terms ‘Christian,’ ‘Christianity,’ ‘Jews,’ or ‘Judaism.’ Rather, he juxtaposes ‘us/ours’ to ‘them/their.’ The socio-theological circumstances of the Jesus movement at the time of authorship and a variety of clues and hints (which we will discuss in some detail) seem to point to an internal debate about Judaism—not to a confrontation with it. I agree with Salevao’s deployment of a conflict model.469 However, whereas Salevao (in line with the consensus) sees a conflict between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity,’ I see the author’s universe and horizon as limited to the Jesus movement. Most scholars have concluded that Hebrews was written during the second half of the first century (60–90 ce).470 In my view, the author’s investment in attacking the Temple and the Priesthood, both irrelevant after the Jewish War of 70 C.E. would seem to point to the sixties as the most likely period of authorship- a decade before the first Gospel. The author writes with authority and seems to be a leader, probably one of the founders of the community to which the epistle is addressed. The text contains hints about the author and his audience, but scholars have not reached a consensus on authorship, context, or intended audience. Obviously, the author and his audience knew who the protagonists were, but their identity is implicit—not explicit. Most scholars agree that the author is an early Pauline believer and, consequently, the author’s views are commonly identified as ‘Christian.’ However, it is noteworthy that at the time of authorship, the author’s adversaries considered themselves Christian too. Therefore, the use of this term to discuss this period is inappropriate and anachronistic. A minority of scholars acknowledges that the descendants of the founding generation might be among the author’s antagonists.471 Speaking of the addressees, Lehne’s observation is among the closest to my reading (despite his use of 212 the anachronistic “Jewish-Christians”): ‘[T]heir faith is being threatened by a group (or groups) of conservative Jewish-Christians from within (or from without) their number.’472 Scholars are also split on the core impulses driving Hebrews. The author seems concerned with a variety of issues: low participation in community life (10:25), ‘strange teachings’ and ‘unprofitable foods’ (9:10; 13:9), consciousness of sin (9:14; 10:2, 22; 13:18), covenant issues (8:1–13), priesthood (7:1–19), sacrifice (10:1–18), the tarrying of the Parousia (10:25, 37), and danger of apostasy (2:1; 3:12; 6:6; 10:29). The combined weight of several factors, perhaps coupled with a disappointment over the delay of the Parousia473 may be the best description of the concerns behind the author’s writing. For our purposes and as it pertains to our subject (Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement)474 the socio-theological impetus behind the polemical escalation seems to be the need to articulate a theological grounding to justify to the rank and file the estrangement vis- à -vis the descendants of the founding generation. This need took center stage as the communities founded by Pauline missionaries encountered differing believers in Jesus and questions about legitimacy surfaced. As corroborated by the obsession with ‘all things Jewish,’ and the intense resentment that permeates the texts authored during this era, the ‘Jewish question’ seems to have become a contentious and painful concern for second- and thirdgeneration Gentile believers in Jesus. Unfortunately, the author does not inform us as to the cultural-ethnic origin of the addressees. Nor do we know if they were the majority or a minority in the community.475 Nonetheless, our identification of the addressees and of the implied adversaries may be assisted by the author’s choices of language: ‘Do not be carried away by diverse and strange teachings. For it is good for the heart to be made firm with grace, not foods, whose observers were not benefited. We have an altar from which those who serve the tabernacle have no right to eat’ (13:9–10). 213 The author also alludes to ‘strange teachings’ and ‘unprofitable foods’ (9:10; 13:9), a peculiar choice of words if the addressees were present or past Jewish followers of Jesus. This language and the view that adherence to the beliefs of the founding fathers is apostasy (6:6) would be counterproductive if addressing Jewish followers of Jesus or their Gentile sympathizers, but might have been useful in shoring up vacillating Gentiles who were in danger of ‘succumbing’ to the influence of the Jewish faction. According to most commentators, the community was in danger of apostasy to Judaism.476 Per my reading, the ‘apostasy’ in question is not apostacy at all. Attraction to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement reflects a yearning for continuity that stands on the natural attraction that some Gentile believers felt toward the beliefs and traditions associated with Jesus and his disciples. The setting seems to be a debate among Gentile believers in Jesus about continuity-discontinuity vis- à -vis the founding fathers of their movement (9:11–14; 10:1–2; 13:9–10). The imminent danger seems to originate from believers who may have advocated a stronger continuity with the founding fathers (7:11; 9:8–10, 13–14; 10:1–2; 13:9–13). Unfortunately, we are unable to ascertain whether the immediate adversaries are the descendants of the founding fathers or Gentiles attracted to them.477 Somewhat similar to the situation in Paul’s Galatians and I Corinthians,478 the community addressed by the author seems to be on the brink of apostasy from the author’s interpretation of Jesus’s legacy. In both cases the danger seems to be the sway of the founding fathers. In both cases, the author uses a variety of rhetorical tools and techniques to persuade recently evangelized believers to hold firm to the authors’ strand of belief in Jesus. Overall, it seems to me that we are on strong ground when arguing that this situation seems to have emerged as Pauline evangelists organized new communities and moved on. Sooner or later these new converts would have encountered believers who embraced differing interpretations of Jesus’s legacy and would have realized that they had been evangelized into a version of belief in Jesus at odds with the beliefs of Jesus’s disciples and first followers—a volatile situation that could ignite a variety of outcomes. Most scholars advocate a recent separation from ‘the Synagogue.’479 However, I 214 have argued elsewhere that affiliation of Gentile believers in Jesus with mainstream synagogues should not be assumed. Rather, if estrangement from a synagogue is suspected, a synagogue of the founding faction should be the assumed option. Theology Hebrews clearly belongs to the earliest phase of the evolution of Pauline theology. It seems that prior to Hebrews, the theology instilled to the community (2:3–4; 13:7–8) would have included the basic Pauline kerygma (1 Cor. 15.3) but probably not much more. Overall, Hebrews is an expansion of Paul, and nothing in Hebrews is at odds with Paul. Indeed, there are many things in common between Paul and our author, suggesting that the author was associated with the Pauline circle.480 The need to decide whether Paul was the originator of the supersession of Judaism (the traditionalists) or was only defending the right of Gentile believers to reject the beliefs and the traditions of the founding fathers (the revised Paul)481 resurfaces when trying to interpret Hebrews. If we embrace the ‘traditional Paul,’ and read Hebrews as derivative of it, the anti-Jewish strand in Hebrews would target Judaism. However, if we embrace the ‘revised Paul,’ and read Hebrews as derivative of it, the polemical strand in Hebrews would target the descendants of the founding fathers and their Gentile sympathizers. Hebrews, following Paul’s Colossians, sees Jesus as God’s adopted son and does not claim incarnation. The Christology of Hebrews is eclectic. The multiplicity and seemingly indiscriminate accumulation of titles and attributes bestowed on Jesus cannot but reflect anxiety about legitimacy. Such anxiety is often visible in groups challenging established authority482 - in this case the authority of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. The author’s claim that his form of belief in Jesus originated from Jesus himself (2:3), would be opposed by the Pillars and by their descendants (the author’s opponents). By the time of authorship, the critique (by Judean sectarians) of the Temple, the priesthood, and the covenant was not a novelty, and stood on established anti-Jewish-establishment traditions. The polemic in Hebrews may be best seen as the subversion, emulation and appropriation by Gentile 215 believers, of the anti-establishment rhetoric and lore of the descendants of the founding generation, deployed to demote them from their position as the authoritative custodians of Jesus’s legacy. The main argument of Hebrews stands on his elaboration and expansion of three principal topics: Jesus’s priesthood in the order of Melchizedek, the advent of the new covenant, and the sacrificial-atonement theme. These three themes are deemed, by the author, to provide a compelling argument for the superiority of the author’s strand of belief in Jesus; that justify the rejection (by Gentiles) of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers, and the replacement of the Jewish followers of Jesus as the New Israel, as the People of God. Priesthood483 The Hebrew Scriptures, last edited by the priestly class following the return from the Babylonian exile, give us the establishment’s description of the Israelite priesthood as ordained by God484 and assigned to the tribe of Levi.485 The role of the priesthood evolved over time, was part of ongoing debates within Judaism, and was not exempt from sharp critique. Following the Persian conquests (first half of the sixth century) and throughout the Near East, the scions of venerable and legitimate priestly families either assume the position of High Priests, were coerced into cooperating with the conquerors, or were silenced by other means. I have already noted that high priests were, for the most part, appointed by the conquerors and lost standing in the eyes the local populations. Most of these traitors and collaborators with Persian, Greek, and Roman conquerors were hated opportunists that collected taxes and ruled the provinces on behalf of foreign oppressors.486 By Jesus’s lifetime, the decline in the legitimacy of the priesthood was widely acknowledged and a staple of Jewish antiestablishment rhetoric.487 Although the institution of the priesthood was seldom openly criticized, abuse or disgrace of the office and illegitimate ancestry were the subject of intense polemic. 216 To anchor his challenge to the Jewish elite of the Jesus movement (7:1–9), the author of Hebrews builds on a short, enigmatic, and obscure biblical story about Melchizedek, the priest-king of Salem (Gen. 14:18–20). The Israelite Scriptures do not know of any predecessors to Melchizedek and are silent concerning any successors. The biblical story is somewhat of a dead end and (consequently) there were no limitations on where Melchizedek speculation could go - an opening used by Qumran and, later, by the author of Hebrews.488 Although Melchizedek’s priesthood seems to emerge ex nihilo from the author’s expansion of Genesis 14:18–20, there are some interesting antecedents. The most probable influence on Hebrews might be Qumran’s IQMelchizedek, although Attridge instructs us on other instances of Melchizedek speculation (Philo, the fragmentary Nag Hammadi tractate Melchizedek [NHC 9, 1], 2 Enoch, and 3 Enoch).489 IQMelchizedek, discovered at Qumran Cave 11,490 asserts that the coming judgment is to be performed by a representative of God who is called Melchizedek.491 Per the author of Hebrews, Melchizedek (a marginal biblical character)492 founded an unprecedented, and otherwise unknown, non-Levitical priestly line - and placed Jesus as its inheritor and its culmination. The author used Genesis 14:18–20 to claim that Melchizedek antecedes Abraham, making him into a superseding figure ‘Without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but resembling the Son of God’ (7:2–3). Some scholars argue that there is no direct link between IQMelchizedek and Hebrews, despite that in both writings the Melchizedek figure has comparable eschatological functions and despite Hebrews’ other echoes and resonances with Qumran, which will be discussed in each segment of this chapter. Attridge concludes that ‘[t]he inspiration for Hebrews’ treatment of Melchizedek probably derives from one or another of these speculative trends.’493 Wilson is more definitive: ‘We can conclude without doubt that Jewish speculation provides the immediate context for these chapters, and 217 yet there is no precise parallel to the particular analogies or the overall scheme that the author develops.’494 The author’s deployment of the Melchizedek figure, whether built on the Qumran model or the author’s independent invention, seems to be aimed at achieving a specific goal. According to the author (a) Melchizedek blesses Abraham (7:1), (b) Abraham offers Melchizedek a tithe (7:2), (c) Melchizedek is linked to the ‘Son of God’ motif and his priesthood is eternal (7:3). On this foundation, the author develops his argument in tight progression: since Melchizedek receives the tithe, blesses Abraham, and lives eternally, he is superior to Abraham (7:4–5, 6, and 8). This opening of chapter 7 points to the author’s purpose: he is creating a pathway, a bypass, to argue the supremacy of his brand of belief in Jesus over that of his Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement (That stands on Abraham). The Melchizedek move allows the author to claim that his newly created priesthood is superior to the Levitical priesthood that stands on the Abrahamic tradition. If Melchizedek is superior to Abraham, and the Melchizedek newly created priesthood is superior to the Levitical priesthood - the tradition that emanates from him is superior to the traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus. The author proceeds with his reconfigurationsupersession: ‘The Levitical line is useless (10:2–10), and annulled. The hereditary principle is no longer relevant, the law abrogated (7:16–19), the Levitical priesthood was defective (7.20–1). There is no longer a need for a succession of priests (7.23–4).’495 Some two thousand years after the establishment of the Israelite priesthood, the author argues for the existence of a previously unknown ‘legitimacy bypass’ that supersedes a venerated religious tradition spanning many generations. The author attempts to undermine allegiance to the descendants of the founding fathers by belittling the priesthood associated with them and by replacing it with a new, and superior, one. The rationale for the battering of the Levitical priesthood seems to have been that if the Levitical priesthood is superseded, those that the priesthood serves are diminished. The argument seems to be that if the beliefs of the 218 descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers stand on the legitimacy and sanctity of the (now) superseded Levitical priesthood, the author’s beliefs (that stand on the priesthood of Melchizedek) are superior.496 The author, unconcerned with upholding a tradition he strives to supersede, seems to have believed that priestly status was required to designate Jesus’s death as an atoning sacrifice for all sins and for all times. ‘Hebrews has to argue that Jesus is a priest, because according to the Law only a priest may offer sacrifice.’497 To that effect the author bypasses the traditional priesthood and makes Jesus a priest per his enhanced order of Melchizedek (7:17). The author questions the priestly institutions of the dominant group (the descendants of the disciples and their followers) and argues for the superiority of a previously unknown priesthood that has two high priests over a span of some two thousand years - Melchizedek and Jesus. Lastly, the author seems unaware of a fundamental contradiction between his theological construct and belief in Jesus as the Messiah. According to biblical tradition, the Messiah must be a descendant of King David, necessitating the New Testament’s casting of Jesus as Judah’s descendant (7:4) and his birth in Bethlehem.498 However, a member of the tribe of Judah would be disqualified from the priesthood, which was hereditary and was the privilege of the tribe of Levi. Thus, per the traditions he claims to supersede but whose legitimacy the author seeks, Jesus may be either the Messiah or a priest in the order of Melchizedek – but not both. Covenant New covenant rhetoric and a decontextualized interpretation of Jeremiah 31:31–34 are used by the author to dissuade congregants from fellowship with the Jewish opponents and to infuse greater commitment to his interpretation of belief in Jesus. The understanding that the community is living in the last days may be driving and exacerbating the author’s pitch and choice of words. The eschatological context is central and seems to inspire and intensify the boldness of his claims.499 Whereas the author’s attack on the Levitical priesthood targets the institutions and traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus, the author’s negation of the validity of the covenant aims at eroding their standing as God’s chosen altogether. Furthermore, whereas the author’s critique of the Levitical priesthood and of the sacrifices 219 associated with them had antecedents among Judean sectarians, the assault on the Israelite covenant is a radical and sweeping claim—a far-reaching move to supersede-appropriate the identity of his opponents and to delegitimize them.500 The author ‘demonstrates’ to its readers that the new covenant is better than the ‘old.’501 The first covenant is declared ‘imperfect’ (8:7–8a) and the imperfection is ‘proven’ (8:8b-12). The argument is framed by a selfreferential argument: ‘For if that first covenant had been faultless, there would have been no occasion for a second’ (8:7). Throughout the text we encounter a pattern of ‘correspondence, contrast and superiority.’502 Despite the fact that the author focuses his rhetorical fire on institutions and traditions, he also aims at the people: ‘For he (God) finds fault with them when he says...’ (8:8). Hebrews 8:1–13 is part of the author’s argument against the exclusivity of the beliefs and traditions of the founding group as the vehicle to rightful belief in Jesus. Hebrews’ development of this theme (Heb. 8:1–15, 8:6–13, 10), unique among the NT texts,503 is the first attempt at a comprehensive and methodical deployment of this argument from without the Jewish camp. The author’s argument that the ‘old’ covenant was replaced-fulfilled by the ‘new’ is a platform to argue the superiority of his understanding of Jesus’s legacy against ‘their’ interpretation of it. With this foray into the core of Jewish identity, the author’s theological rhetoric became a transgression of the most sacred identity markers of Judaism. With this theological move, the author articulates the foundation of identity annihilation theology, the gravest derivative of supersession-replacement theology. The Hebrew scriptures use ‘new covenant’ rhetoric504 to inspire and edify the nation following the people’s failings. Judean sectarians often argued for the need to renew the people’s commitment to its covenant with YHWH. However, the possible attestations of ‘new covenant’ language in the Hebrew lore (Jer. 31:31–34, Jub. 1.16–25, Ezra 6.26b–28, and Qumran CD 6:19; 8:21; 20:12; IQpHab 2:3f.)505 are best understood as calls for the reinvigoration of the people’s commitment to the covenant, not as the negation of the validity of the covenant between the Israelites and YHWH (as claimed by the author of Hebrews and later Paulines). These were inclusive exhortations within the Jewish journey, far removed from calls by non-Jews to deny or replace Judaism. 220 The ‘new covenant’ argument is a central theme in the New Testament (cf. Rom. 7:1–6; Gal. 3:23–25; Heb. 8:1–15, 8:6–13, 10). However, whereas Judaism reads new covenant exhortation as emphasizing renewal, Hebrews emphasizes replacement. The author’s quotation of Jeremiah 31:31 begins with an understanding that the new covenant will be completed in the coming days.506 For the author of Hebrews, the ‘coming days’ have arrived. He refers to his own time as the ‘last days’ (1:2; 9:26).507 And yet, there is a sense that the final consummation of all things is still in the future (4:9; 6:11; 10:26–30; 13:14).508 The practice, by Pauline believers, of subverting biblical traditions to legitimate their interpretation of belief in Jesus seems to originate in an emulation of Qumran’s Pesher exegetical method (using biblical citations out of their historical context - a procedure that was rejected by establishment Judaism). Emulating Qumran’s practice of applying biblical prophecies to current events, Jeremiah’s prophetic exhortation to revitalize the Israelite commitment to the covenant is subverted to support the advent of a new covenant with non-Israelites, the collapse of the ‘old’ (8:9), and the superiority of the new (8:10–11). Hebrews is the first Pauline text to appropriate Jeremiah’s call, to support an appropriation-supersession agenda. By decontextualizing Jeremiah 31:31– 34,509 the author suggests that God himself had called for the replacement of the ‘old’ covenant and the advent of a new covenant with Pauline believers in Jesus - six hundred years before the author’s lifetime. However, the author does not offer any support for this claim (that Jeremiah’s call was intended to anticipate, and support, his interpretation of Jesus’s legacy). By deploying Jeremiah out of his historical and ethnic context, the author makes one of the most radical polemical statements in the New Testament: ‘When He said, ‘a new covenant,’ In speaking of a new covenant he treats the first as obsolete. And what is becoming obsolete and growing old is ready to vanish away’ (8:13). 221 ‘What is implied is that the very purpose of the second covenant was to fulfill what the first covenant could not. There is no room or reason for the first covenant to continue, once the second has been established. The emergence of the second or new covenant renders the first old, null, and void.’ Hebrew’s negation of the covenant between the Jews and God seems to be a means to delegitimize the elite of the Jesus movement. By faulting the Israelite covenant, the author attempts to convince his readers to reject any affiliation with the Jewish faction. By his ‘voiding’ of the ‘old’ covenant, the author is attempting to undermine his opponents’ legitimacy as the guardians of Jesus’s legacy, in the eyes of the Gentile rank and file: if ‘their’ covenant with God is seen as superseded, ‘their’ beliefs and traditions cannot be the vehicle to belief in Jesus either. Whereas earlier proto-orthodox authors cast the founding fathers as ‘misunderstanding’ and ‘abandoning’ Jesus, Hebrews intensifies the challenge and lays the theological foundation for the replacement of their beliefs and traditions as the driving force of the Jesus movement. Hebrews seems to have been the first to articulate in detail the strategy and the arguments for the demotion of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the custodians of his legacy. The annulment of the Israelite covenant became a necessary move for Gentiles that aimed at replacing the Jewish followers of Jesus as the New Israel and the People of God, but did not want to follow Marcion in severing all links with the Jewish grounding of the Jesus movement, and in building their theological edifice fully outside the Jewish religious narrative. Sacrifice The view that Jewish sacrificial traditions were ceremonial and lacked spiritual meaning is deeply embedded in the Pauline lore and in the minds of Gentile believers since.510 However, contrary to these simplistic juxtapositions, from early on, Israelites emphasized the need for devotion, pure intent, and atonement when giving offerings. Israelites were the first to develop a nuanced appreciation and critique of their sacrificial traditions. 222 The Israelite religion took shape in an era when sacrifices were seen as necessary for proper cosmic maintenance and for the servicing of the Gods. Per this view of the universe, the divine realm requires sacrificial offerings in exchange for victory, abundance, and fertility. Although standing on the archaic understanding that proper cosmic maintenance required sacrifices to the Gods, First and Second Temple Israelites developed a complex awareness of the spirituality of the Levitical sacrifices.511 The understanding that sacrifices were not believed to act ‘ex open operate,’ and were not a ceremonial act devoid of spiritual meaning, has deep roots in biblical Judaism. Discomfort among Israelites with a mechanical view of the sacrificial system antedates Paul, Hebrews, and belief in Jesus. Opposition to a mechanistic view of sacrifice can be tracked to the biblical tradition.512 ‘There was an old Palestinian tradition extending to the psalms and prophets which had condemned any belief in the automatic efficacy of sacrifices, demanding in its place a ‘sacrifice of thanksgiving’ or deeds of mercy.’513 The sacrificial traditions attracted considerable interest at Qumran too.514 However, the community did not believe the sacrificial cult was null and void. Rather, they believed that it would eventually be practiced properly. The Qumranites claimed that the contemporaneous priesthood was illegitimate but hoped for a legitimate one. The Israelite sacrificial traditions and Jesus’s sacrifice occupy a large portion of this letter (7:1–10:8) indicating their centrality for the author.515 The theological effort regarding Jesus’s sacrifice seems to originate in the author’s wish to reinforce Paul’s interpretation of Jesus’s death as an atoning sacrifice. Therefore, the author invests great effort to ‘prove’ the inadequacy of ‘the Law’ and the Levitical offerings (10:1–10) and the superiority of Jesus’s sacrifice (10:11–18). In his discussion of the Israelite sacrificial rituals, as elsewhere, the author of Hebrews seems to feed on Judean sectarian antiestablishment traditions and rhetoric. The use of Psalm 39:7–9 (LXX, MT 40:6–8) in verses 10:5–7 to argue that the Levitical sacrifices have been invalidated and to ‘demonstrate’ that God himself acknowledged the shortcomings of the Levitical sacrifices (10:8–10), despite the dissonance of such interpretation with Jewish exegesis, is seen by many scholars as grounding the authors’ claims in the authority of Hebrew 223 Scripture. However, the sacrifice of Jesus as substitution and annulment of the Levitical sacrificial tradition that atoned for sins would be unacceptable to Jews, to the inclusion of the Jewish followers of Jesus, who rejected human sacrifices,516 but would resonate with believers with Pagan affiliations and inclinations. Hebrews and the Jewish Scriptures We have seen that the use of the Hebrew Scriptures is prominent throughout the text (although the author follows the Greek Septuagint, rather than the Hebrew text).517 The author of Hebrews attempts to confer on his interpretation of Jesus’s legacy the authority of the ‘Old’ Testament (about 30 actual citations and over 70 allusions have been counted). The author of Hebrews attempts to legitimize his interpretation of belief in Jesus by using a variety of forward-looking passages in the scriptures of his opponents. Although Hebrews seems to appeal to the Hebrew Scriptures at every stage of his argument, his interpretations of the Torah, the Prophets, and Psalms are often alien to their historical and ethnic context. The author’s appropriation of significant traditions within Judaism, and their deployment in the clash between his interpretation of belief in Jesus and his opponents’, showcases the recurring phenomenon of the quarrying of Judean sectarian lore to argue anti-establishment claims within the Jesus movement. The author appropriates-subverts the lore of his adversaries to ‘prove’ his interpretation of Jesus’s legacy (Psalm 8:4–6, in 3:12–4:1–Psalm 95:7–11, in 5:11–6:12 and 7:1; Jer. 31:31–34 in Chapter 8; Psalm 40:6–8 in Chapter 10; Jer. 31:33–34 and Habakkuk 2:3–4 in Chapter 12). The author also uses a superior/inferior dialectic and a decontextualized reading of Psalm 110:4 and Psalm 39:7–9 (LXX) to delegitimize the priestly institutions and traditions associated with his opponents within the Jesus movement. The author’s argument that God himself acknowledged the inadequacies of the Levitical sacrifices (10:8–10) and his use of Psalm 110:4 to argue that God called for the replacement of the ‘old’ priesthood by the ‘new’ priesthood is far reaching. 224 The New Testament’s authors, and Christian scholars throughout the ages, have anchored their theology and their self-perception in the Scriptures of Israel. Both have mined the Hebrew Scriptures to legitimate, justify, and cement the Pauline strand of belief in Jesus as the only legitimate and authoritative strand of belief in Jesus.518 Throughout the ages, theologians, scholars and believers have seen themselves as the replacement of the Israelites as the New Israel, as the New People of God. For the most part, this incorporation-appropriation of identity and lore has been adversarial toward, and derogatory of, the Jewish people. My Hebrews+ Why would some gentiles of pagan origin, recently converted to a nonJewish form of belief in Jesus, be obsessed with the need to justify their rejection of beliefs and traditions alien to them, and to prove the superiority of their still-evolving belief structures over an established religious tradition of great antiquity and great prestige? What is the socio-theological context behind the author’s assault on the Levitical priesthood, on the covenant between the Israelites and their God, and on their sacrificial traditions? What circumstances would explain, or necessitate, the emergence of a discourse in which Jews, their character, and their ethical integrity are relentlessly vilified and denigrated? In Hebrews, the author seems to articulate, for the first time, the theological arguments that will support the shift from the Torah-observant Jewish followers of Jesus, to the Gentile followers of Paul. The Epistle to the Hebrews, roughly contemporaneous with the canonical Gospels, signals the forthcoming eruption onto the surface of the overt phase of a centuries-long struggle within the Jesus movement. The defensive language deployed in Hebrews indicates that a significant threat loomed over the legitimacy of the author’s belief system. It seems that some members of the author’s community were attracted to the beliefs and traditions of the founding faction. That attraction posed an existential threat to believers who advocated Paul’s interpretation of Jesus’s ministry and the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus. In previous texts we identified themes, motifs, segments, or fragments that seem to echo the transition from the anti-Jewish-establishment polemic of 225 the Jewish founders, to Pauline rhetoric against them. By the time Hebrews was written, the estrangement between Gentile and Jewish followers of Jesus seems to have intensified. Whereas in the canonical Gospels the deJudaizing of belief in Jesus is understated, obscured, and implied, in Hebrews and Barnabas it is explicit and overt. The author of Hebrews attempts to provide, to a community evangelized by Pauline missionaries, the arguments to ward off criticism due to lack of continuity with the religious worldview and traditions embraced by Jesus and by those chosen by him as custodians of his legacy. The author and fellow Pauline leaders and intellectuals were anxious to provide Gentile believers a theological grounding that would reassure them that they were rightful believers in Jesus despite their rejection of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers and would solidify their growing self-perception as the New Israel. The Addressees - Some modern scholars identify the intended addressees as Jewish followers of Jesus or as a community with a mixed composition. The current consensus seems to be that the author of Hebrews had several concerns that included the danger of a relapse to Judaism among a group of converts to the author’s strand of belief in Jesus. However, there is little that points to the ethnic background of the readers and some sayings fit a Gentile audience better than a Jewish one (e.g., 6:1; 9:14). Furthermore, the view that disrespectful and derogatory comments on Judaism would be used, or would be effective, to persuade the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers to sever their affiliation to their ancestral traditions is beyond comprehension and seems to stand on the continuing bondage to the Pauline hegemony over the discourse. Furthermore, even though the author’s arguments and knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures has impressed scholars, I suspect that he would fall short of convincing committed Jews—to the inclusion of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. Gentile believers, ‘caught in the crossfire’ between those advocating continuity with the beliefs and traditions of Jesus’s companions and those advocating a selective appropriationsupersession, could be the intended audience of this text. Although the text would underwhelm readers with deep and intimate knowledge of the Jewish 226 tradition, it may have impressed Gentiles with little or no grounding in the Hebrew Scriptures. Hebrews’ polemical rhetoric would have been most effective on Gentiles who belonged to Pauline congregations, had limited knowledge about Judaism, and had concerns and anxieties about their estrangement from the descendants of the founding fathers. The author argues implicitly and explicitly that Gentile converts need not embrace the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, apparently against a strong pressure from Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction - who were inclined to do so. These Gentiles apparently felt a natural attraction to those that, at the time of authorship, were known to be the custodians of Jesus’s legacy and would be considered by many to be the legitimate heirs of his ministry. The author’s credentials -The author does not disclose the source of the authority by which he ‘annuls’ and ‘abrogates’ the vast religious heritage of his adversaries. Nor does the author inform us whether his insight originates in direct revelation or in authoritative precursors, although he does make ample use of de-contextualized quotes from the ‘old’ testament that, according to the author, anticipate and legitimize his interpretation of Jesus’s ministry. An intriguing but weak claim to authority and indirect access to the historical Jesus is made by the author when he states, ‘[H]ow shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation? It was declared at first by the Lord, and it was attested to us by those who heard him’ (2:3). These claims are put forward even though most scholars concur that none of the theological predecessors of the author of Hebrews was an eyewitness to Jesus’s ministry, and that the descendants of those who were, rejected the authors interpretation of Jesus’s legacy. Unfortunately, we do not know whether the author was part of a minority or a majority in his geographical area, among Gentiles, or in the Jesus movement as a whole. At the time of authorship, Gentile believers espousing a variety of embryonic and non-Jewish forms of belief in Jesus were attempting to assert themselves as valid substitutes for the descendants of the founding fathers of the movement, who stood on the vast heritage of Judaism. The author exalts belief in Jesus, but he does not deploy or elaborate a comprehensive theology about those beliefs. Rather, the author’s 227 form of belief in Jesus seems to stand on the Pauline Kerygma (1 Cor. 15.3) and on the negation, denigration, replacement, and appropriationsupersession of the beliefs of the founders. Hebrews seems to have been authored at the pivotal moment when protoorthodox believers embark in an appropriation-supersession journey. This trajectory will last a couple of hundred years and will transform them from an ill-defined group lacking a coherent and comprehensive definition of what belief in Jesus was or should be - into militant, self-assured, and exclusivist believers. The author’s arguments - We should note that the author uses the ‘Old’ Testament’s authority to legitimate his interpretation of Jesus’s ministry, while at the same time he claims the supersession and invalidation of beliefs and traditions based on it. This peculiar midway positioning will emerge during the second century as the proto-orthodox ‘Via Media’ and will require our attention and scrutiny. The tensions inherent in the continuitydiscontinuity conundrum engendered by this positioning, and the appropriation-supersession choice, will embed in the tradition an ambivalent and resentful attitude toward the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. Whereas Gnostics and Marcionites will reject the lore of the founding generation and will build new theological edifices disconnected from the founders’ beliefs and traditions, the author of Hebrews stands at the threshold of a journey into the maze of appropriation-supersession. The author’s views and arguments on these subjects are best seen as the deployment of Judean sectarian rhetorical staples against the establishment he opposes, the Jewish elite within the Jesus movement. Hebrews harnesses and develops pre-existing rhetorical themes and traditions originating in the Jewish sectarian milieu to claim the superiority of his strand of belief in Jesus over the traditions of the founding fathers. ‘There is, finally, a constant thread in the Christological argument that needs to be singled out: the radical contrast between old and new, good and better, sketch 228 and reality, earthly and heavenly, spiritual and physical, outer and inner, repeated and unique.’519 The terms of contrast vary considerably, but they all serve the same purpose: to assert the superiority of the author’s form of belief in Jesus over that of his opponents. In conclusion, little of Hebrews’ hyperbole about the beliefs and traditions of his opponents is original. The most that can be said about the author’s anti-Jewish creativity is that he was the first Pauline to deploy pre-existing themes and motifs to the circumstances of the Jesus movement. One theme, however, is elaborated well beyond its Judean roots; the priesthood of Jesus after the order of Melchizedek).520 The author and supersession - Since the theological strand to which the author seems to have belonged chose to advocate the substitutionreplacement of the beliefs and traditions of the founding generation, it had to weave intricate arguments that would support a continuity-discontinuity strategy. These theological choices led to the de-contextualization of the Hebrew Scriptures and their use as a platform to legitimize the author’s understanding of Jesus’s legacy. The author of Hebrews, the main architect of the Pauline appropriation-supersession edifice, set the markers of the theological construct that was later to be the central anchor of ‘orthodoxy.’521 The author’s strategy seems to have included three elements: (a) to accept the Jewish meta-narrative; (b) to gut out most of its institutions, beliefs, and traditions; and (c) to appropriate the remaining shell to vest a non-Jewish edifice with legitimacy and antiquity.522 I have argued that the obsessive and systematic denigration of the character, traditions and beliefs of the Jewish founding fathers seems to emerge out of intense debates among Gentile believers in Jesus about the movements’ affiliation with Judaism. It is important to emphasize that this was one dimension of a multilateral confrontation among Gentile believers with varying degrees of affiliations with, and inclinations toward Judaism, Paganism, Platonism, and Gnosticism. 229 Vicious attacks against the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers are best seen as indicative of a rising tide of confusion, tension, and anxiety about identity and legitimacy among Gentile believers. Hebrews and Barnabas reflect in their tone and pitch a transition to an overt confrontation about the movements’ identity that burst into the surface, first against the beliefs of the founding generation and later against differing Gentile interpretations of Jesus’s ministry and legacy. The Jewish facet of this struggle looms large in the tradition due to the unfortunate fact that the founding fathers were Jewish and that the failed fellowship with them occurred during the canonical era, exacerbating the impact that the estrangement that ensued has had on the attitudes of Gentile believers toward Judaism throughout the ages. Hebrew’s strategy - Hebrews’ author may have been the earliest systematic articulator of the strategy that did eventually bring about the demotion of the founding faction and the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus. The author’s strategy of demotion by proxy, nascent in Paul and Mark, will be developed further during the next two centuries as Pauline authors will target a number of Jewish symbols, traditions and institutions in their quest to de-Judaize belief in Jesus. The author of Hebrews was among those Gentile believers who did not want to reinvent belief in Jesus in full discontinuity from the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. Thus, paradoxically, although the author wished to sever the influence that his Jewish opponents had on his congregants, he also wanted to bestow on his interpretation of Jesus’s ministry the authority of their ancient and venerated traditions, and the legitimacy intrinsic to their being the descendants of the founding fathers. Therefore, despite the wholesale battering of the character, traditions and beliefs of his adversaries, the author does not place himself outside the Jewish universe altogether and attempts to remain within the umbrella of the Jewish narrative. It is important to note that the author quarries his opponents’ sacred scriptures to supply all the necessary definitions and templates to which Jesus’s high priesthood and sacrifice must conform (Jesus as a Davidic descendant, Jesus as a rightful priest, Jesus’s sacrifice as a rightful sacrifice, 230 the author’s interpretation of Jesus ministry as emanating from the ‘Old’ Testament, the ‘Old’ Testament as anticipating the author’s interpretation of Jesus ministry, etc.). Hebrew’s continuity-discontinuity conundrum, the positioning and argumentation of the author in relation to Jesus’ Jewish followers (how to sever the appeal of the founding fathers while at the same time claim to be their theological heirs) required great linguistic, polemical, and rhetorical ability. To delegitimize the founding fathers and at the same time claim to be their theological heirs, creates logical and theological difficulties that the author of the epistle to the Hebrews tries to wrestle with. Since the author’s interpretation of Jesus' ministry is not in harmony with the traditions on which he wants to base his legitimacy, the author finds himself investing great effort in delegitimizing the theological narrative from which he longs to derive his legitimacy. The impact of Hebrews - With Hebrews we are only midway in the everescalating polemical trajectory of the Pauline authoritative texts. Within a narrative of sanctified and authoritative anti-Jewish invective, the author of Hebrews is one of the central contributors for he provided a cerebral and elaborate theological platform on which a forthcoming torrent of abuse fed. The author of Hebrews, in line with the emerging proto-orthodox modus operandi, opted for strengthening the case for the validity of his strand of belief in Jesus by disparaging and abusing the beliefs and traditions of his opponents. It seems that the author concluded that if believers are to be motivated to remain faithful to his interpretation of Jesus’s legacy, they must be persuaded that his views are true and superior vis- à -vis those of the descendants of the founding fathers, which stood on Judaism. The tension between the wish to reject and the wish to appropriate-inherit, and the inherent inconsistency and dissonance in building a new edifice on the denigration of Jewish beliefs and traditions, could not but embed in the lore ambivalent attitudes toward Jews and toward Judaism. For almost two thousand years, believers have bonded with the arguments put forward by the author as to the inferiority of the ‘old’ and the superiority of the ‘new,’ embedding and ingraining ambivalent attitudes toward Judaism in the hearts and souls of believers. 231 Hebrews deploys with significant skill several themes, arguments, and motifs that provided the theological platform that has been used since to denigrate, marginalize, and persecute Judaism—even though this outcome seems to have been unintended by the author. Given this background and the future trajectory of Jewish-Gentile relations, it is imperative to differentiate the author’s intent and circumstances from later interpretations of the text. However, and unfortunately, our re-placing of Hebrews’ horizon within the Jesus movement does not alleviate its impact, nor does it change the fact that traditional readings of the text have enabled, facilitated, and exacerbated anti-Jewish attitudes among Gentile believers in Jesus throughout the centuries.523 Hebrews has been embraced and acclaimed for almost two millennia as one of the theological anchors of the New Testament. The author of Hebrews was indeed clever and learned. His arguments, however, stand on the decontextualization and degradation of a tradition that at the time of authorship was already a widely appreciated and venerated religion. At this stage in our journey it is important to note that Hebrews is among the earliest proto-orthodox texts where these phenomena are visible, and that we will encounter in the texts ahead of us a large variety of elaborations of his theological platform and rhetorical tactics. We will also encounter the footprints of differing Gentile interpretations of Jesus’s ministry and legacy and differing Gentile approaches to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. At the turn of the first century we encounter within the Jesus camp a full spectrum of attitudes toward the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers—from continuity to rejection. As we move forward in time, and as more components and layers are added to the anti-Jewish strand, the tragic implications of the author’s choices will become increasingly clear. As we move into the second century and to our next section, we will see the internal conflict among differing interpretations of Jesus’s legacy explode and become an all-out confrontation. By the first decades of the second century, the subtle and seemingly inconsequential denigration of the 232 disciples in the canonical Gospels will have morphed into an overt and vicious attack on all things Jewish. Within that trajectory, Hebrews represents a halfway point between the implied and developing tensions hinted at in the Gospels, and the extreme viciousness ahead - as represented by the texts of Melito, Chrysostom, and the Adversus Judaeos literature of the next centuries.524 Pauline leaders and intellectuals will follow the pathway created by the author of Hebrews. The future impact of the deployment of supersession theology by later orthodoxy is hard to grasp. The horrible consequences of a clever theological move by this first-century religious enthusiast eventually led to the negation and disenfranchisement, first, of the descendants of the founding fathers, and, later, of all Jews—paving the way for later antisemitism. Seemingly oblivious to the impact that appropriation-supersession theology has had on the soul of believers, on their attitudes toward Jews and Judaism and on Jewish lives—some scholars emphasize Hebrews’ ‘continuity with Judaism.’ However, continuity with the caveats of appropriationsupersession and identity annihilation is no continuity at all. Nonetheless, despite being deeply entrenched in the lore and in the hearts and minds of some believers, the denigration of cultural and theological ancestors is by no means essential, in theory or in the experience of other cultures. Communities can, and have, emerged from preceding cultures without carving their path with derogatory polemic and making it sacrosanct (The Roman positive view of Greek culture, and the Buddhist positive relationship vis- à -vis Hinduism are the most notable). Modern Dilemmas - Post–World War II scholars have attempted to reduce the dissonance between the anti-Jewish sentiment that emanates from traditional and literal readings of the Epistle to the Hebrews, and modern ethics and values. A variety of approaches have been suggested to tame the text’s polemical impact, rehabilitate its image, and accommodate modern sensibilities.525 The challenge is daunting. Some modern interpreters have attempted to minimize the supersessionist and derogatory implications of the author’s statements by arguing that Hebrews’ negative theology functions as a foil for the writer’s theological edifice. Others advocate the 233 replacement of the term ‘supersession’ with the term ‘fulfillment,’526 even though the theological implications of both terms are similar and despite Hebrews 8:7 and 8:13, which seem to impede such efforts. Other scholars absolve the author of supersessionary intent vis- à -vis the Jewish people,527 while acknowledging his claim to the supersession of Jewish institutions and beliefs. This strategy seems to emerge out of a wish to neutralize the polemical strand embedded in the text, while salvaging its canonical status. The strategies vary but the aim is similar—to rescue Hebrews from its association with supersession and anti-Judaism.528 The author’s contrasts and derogatory juxtapositions (old/new, sketch/reality, earthly/heavenly, spiritual/physical, outer/inner, repeated/ unique) are applied to many arguments and polemical themes. Hebrew’s derogatory parade is wide ranging: Jewish atonement traditions are deemed superseded, sacrifices under the Law ‘cannot perfect the conscience of the worshipper’ (9:9) since ‘the law has but a shadow of the good things to come’ (10:1), sacrifices that are repeated cannot have permanent effect (10:2), the ceremonies of the Law are only ‘regulations for the body’ (9:10) and for ‘the purification of the flesh’ (9.13), just to point out a few of the author’s ‘contributions.’ Moreover, the candor of the author is hard to reconcile with any attempt to deflate the impact of the text: terrible consequences will follow the rejection of the author’s views (4:11–13), and mercy will be available only to those that persevere in the path advocated by him (4:14–16). The repertoire and the terms of contrast vary, but they serve the same purpose: to assert the superiority of the author’s strand of belief in Jesus and the inferiority of those advocating a close affiliation with the beliefs and traditions of the founding faction. In Hebrews, ‘[t]he contrast between first/second and old/new could in principle be neutral, an expression of temporal order that allows that both elements have intrinsic value. But in this case it is not; their purpose is to elevate the new and denigrate the old.’529 Afterthoughts - At a time when a cacophony of Gentile forms of belief in Jesus vied for the allegiance of Gentile believers, the addressees are being asked to choose between two forms of belief in Jesus—one Jewish and one Pauline. Overall, the combative demeanor of the epistle to the Hebrews 234 does not reflect the serene and thoughtful theology of a self-assured thinker. His defensive and resentful tone is characteristic of sectarian challenges to established authority. Hebrews reflects intense emotions originating in a community leader anxious to preserve and protect the gains of the Pauline mission to the Gentiles. Written from the perspective of the de-Judaizing camp, the epistle is highly abusive to Jewish sensibilities. Although the author does not aim at Judaism per se, its relentless abuse of adversaries who are Jews created a potent polemical legacy. Hebrews deploys a mostly selfreferential argument about the inferiority of the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of the founding fathers that encompasses all aspects of Jewish life. Furthermore, the possibility that some believers had a genuine interest and affection for the descendants of the founding fathers, and for their traditions and beliefs, seems to challenge ingrained intellectual and emotional predispositions - engendering among many scholars a tendency to explain this rather plausible reality in loaded and negative terms (fear of persecution, failure of resolve, political pressure, marginalization, etc.). This is a peculiar argument given that, at the time of authorship, the author’s interpretation of Jesus’s legacy championed discontinuity (apostasy) from the beliefs and traditions embraced by Jesus and by those chosen by him to be the guardians of his legacy. Overall, the author’s use of the Hebrew Scriptures outside their historical and ethnic context to support his drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus may have been favorably received by Gentiles who were superficially acquainted with these texts, but would not convince believers better versed in them—to the inclusion of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. As Christianity is attempting to move toward a more introspective, and selfcritical phase, the triumphalist and supersessionary impulses in Hebrews, and in the heart of the tradition and its lore, are increasingly re-cognized and are under growing scrutiny.530 Within the current hermeneutic that stands on a Jewish-Christian dialectic, the effort to recast the triumphalistsupersessionary impulses of Christian theology into a benevolent incorporation of the Jewish ethos and lore - requires either the rejection of Hebrews’ theological edifice, or the embrace of an originating trajectory divorced from its original context, intent, and message. Although most 235 scholars active in the 21st century acknowledge Hebrew’s use-appropriation of Hebrew scripture and reject supersession theology, few acknowledge the derivative theological implications of this rejection. In making their argument for a total reversal in Catholic thinking on Jews and Judaism, the bishops of the Vatican II Council bypassed almost all the teachings about Jews and Judaism in Christian thought prior to Vatican II (based on Hebrews) and returned to chapters 9–11 of Paul’s Letter to the Romans where the Apostle reaffirms the continued inclusion of the Jews in the covenant after the coming of Christ.531 In conclusion, if Hebrews and the supersessionary undertow in the tradition, reflect a theological debate-confrontation with Judaism, no amount of theological maneuvering will defuse the supersessionist ghost. However, if the debate-confrontation was about Judaism, and Hebrews reflects a hyper enthusiastic debate between believers in Jesus with pro-Jewish and antiJewish affiliations and inclinations – the supersessionist phenomenon can be re-placed within the Jesus movement, is the consequence of militancy gone awry, and could gradually loose its malevolency. 236 *Barnabas Introduction Barnabas’ adversaries The Covenant The Temple Wedge Issues Barnabas and Qumran My Barnabas Introduction+ The Pauline and Gnostic success among non-Jews laid the ground for the downfall of the Jewish leadership of the Jesus movement. The weakening of the Jewish and Torah-observant leadership that followed the devastation and the loss of life inflicted upon the communities of the Jewish followers of Jesus in Judea, during the failed uprisings of 70 and 135 CE facilitated, enabled and exacerbated this process. Barnabas lives and writes in the preamble to the forthcoming confrontation among competing forms of belief in Jesus that will dominate the next two centuries, and whose JewishGentile facet had been brewing since Paul’s days and permeates the New Testament. Clement of Alexandria, Eusebius, and others saw Barnabas as an important early text; it was considered authoritative by many and was revered accordingly.532 Barnabas and Hebrews are early variants in the transition to undifferentiated anti-Jewish polemic. They are the earliest texts to embark on the transition from implied challenge to the Jewish elite, to its theological articulation. They are considered by many to be the foundations of supersession 237 theology.533 New Testament writings are not used in Barnabas, neither explicitly nor tacitly, which would argue for an early date. The consensus is that the letter was written sometime between 70 and 170 CE534 with a majority supporting a date prior to the end of the first century. Whether the writer was Jewish, or Gentile is still debated. Many scholars consider 16:5 an allusion to the destruction of the Temple, and date Barnabas to the last decades of the first century. A minority advocates the post–Bar Kochba era (post 135 CE).535 We have noted that Nerva’s reign (96–98 ce) may have ignited hopes for a Judean reconstruction and revival. The historical evidence points to Nerva as the most likely to have supported this project. Barnabas’s militant and confrontational style and content (2:10; 3:6; 4:6b; 14:1–4; 8:1; 7; 9:4; 10:2, 9, 12; 12:10f; 15:8; 16:2f) has spawned countless anti-Jewish sermons and exhortations throughout the centuries. Barnabas’s stereotypical views of his adversaries became embedded in the hearts and minds of many among the faithful. Although his exegesis is rudimentary, many of his inflammatory ‘creations’ did resonate with believers whose exposure to, and knowledge of, Judaism was limited to the Pauline prism. Couched in crude Greek, Barnabas’s arguments are often clumsy, disconnected, and contradictory. Reading Barnabas is a journey to a chaotic time through the eyes of a most peculiar mind. Barnabas’s idiosyncratic and occasionally bizarre views could be dismissed as inconsequential, if we could dismiss the fact that his views and arguments are foundational for future supersession theology, and if we could overlook the wide use of his arguments by later apologists, theologians, and clergy.536 Barnabas’s caricature of Judaism did become integral to the lore. Many of Barnabas’s arguments did become staples despite the fact that ‘the extent of his obsession, the radicalness of his claims, and the general defensiveness and rancor of his tone would normally be thought to position the author of Barnabas on the margins of Christian opinion.’537 Barnabas has a protoOrthodox outlook, although somewhat of an idiosyncratic one. Barnabas places the ‘old’ Covenant, the Temple, and Jewish beliefs and customs (Torah observance, dietary law, and circumcision) center stage. In Barnabas, Jewish ‘literal’ misunderstandings are superseded by new proto-orthodox ‘spiritual’ interpretations. 238 Barnabas is viciously anti-Jewish and derogatory— an ‘honor’ it shares with Melito and Chrysostom. Some of Barnabas’s polemical rhetoric is widely acknowledged as fantastic, peculiar, bizarre, and internally incoherent.538 In the most detailed analysis by a Jewish scholar, Alon539 suggests that Barnabas’s knowledge of what he quoted was rather shallow, in sharp contrast to those that advocate a Jewish author on the -basis of the author’s use of the ‘two ways’ motif, familiarity with a variety of Jewish traditions and with Gematria.540 Barnabas’s Adversaries+ Barnabas does not show any empathy for, or affinity to, the Jewish people. Historical Israel is not ‘us’ or ‘we’ but ‘them’ or ‘they’ (Bar. 3:6; 4:6; 8:7; 10:12; 13:1,3; 14:5). The author does not use the term ‘Jews.’ Most of the references to Israel are to the distant past (5:2; 6:7; 9:2; 11:1; 12:2), or to the time when Jesus and his disciples worked among the Jews (5:8; 8:3). In Barnabas, the adversaries are not some Jews (elders, scribes, Pharisees, high priests, etc.) or ‘the Jews’ but rather ‘they.’ It is unclear whether ‘they’ are all the Jews, establishment-Judaism, the Jewish faction, or their Gentile sympathizers. Later Pauline polemical core themes are expressed here with utter simplicity.541 The extensive usage of we/they, them/us, ours/theirs in negative and hostile contexts (2:9–10; 3:1–3, 6; 4:6–8, 14; 5:1; 8:7; 10:12; 13:1–6; 14:1, 4–8) exacerbates the polemical impact of the text. The author and his immediate audience knew the identity of the intended adversaries. However, to us, their identity is obscured by loss of context, the orthodox narrative, and the fog of history. Who are ‘us’ and who are ‘they’ is implied, not explicitly stated or clarified.542 ‘Us’ seems to apply to converts to the author’s form of belief in Jesus—apparently, a Pauline strand. ‘They,’ on the other hand, are deceived (2:9), conversion to ‘their law’ is equivalent to shipwreck (3:6), ‘they’ are perfect in sin (8:1), things are clear to ‘us’ but obscure to ‘them’ (at 8:7), ‘their’ failure to understand the food laws is a consequence of their ‘lust of the flesh’ (at 10:9), ‘they’ are wretched men who erred in putting their trust in the temple (16:1–2). Barnabas’s use of the term ‘they’ resonates with John’s confusing and inconsistent deployment of the term ‘Ioudaioi’ and may have targeted the same internal adversaries. 239 Deciphering who are the immediate and the ultimate adversaries at the epicenter of Barnabas, and of the other texts of the period, is crucial for our understanding of the underlying crucible that brought about the emergence of the polemical strand. It may be that for some, or most, Gentile believers in Jesus the boundaries between the adversaries were blurred to start with.543 Furthermore, it is increasingly apparent that it was not uncommon for early proto-orthodox writers to identify and characterize Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement as ‘Ioudaioi.’544 It is quite clear that Barnabas addresses behavior occurring among Gentile believers within his own community. Furthermore, if we divest the Pauline-orthodox hegemony over the discourse, there is nothing in the text that would indicate that the immediate targets are outside Jews or that the author’s horizon is beyond the Jesus movement. Barnabas is among the first to imply that his opponents’ understanding of Jesus’s life and ministry, that stands on Judaism, must be erroneous. For Barnabas, the true meaning of Israelite history is to be understood and deciphered by non-Jews. The exasperation of Barnabas, and of later protoorthodox believers, seems to reflect the influence that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers exerted among Gentile believers (not of the influence of, or attraction to, Judaism). According to Murray, Barnabas is also concerned with the possible recognition, by members of his congregation, of the validity of a joint covenant (Bar. 3:6 and 4:6).545 Concern about the possible conversion of some of the members to Torah observance (Bar. 3.6) is also present.546 The stress inherent in Hebrews’ and Barnabas’s appropriate-but-reject answer to the continuity-discontinuity dilemma vis- à -vis the founding fathers required, and triggered, the emergence of the appropriationsupersession phenomenon - with horrific consequences. [+pg 170] 240 The Covenant A major theme, found in several chapters, is possession of the covenant. The opening salvo is: [B]e on your guard now and do not be like certain people; that is, do not continue to pile up your sins while claiming that your covenant is irrevocably yours, due to the fact in fact the covenant is both theirs and ours. (4:7) It is ours, but those people lost it completely in the following way, when Moses had just received it. For the Scripture says: ‘And Moses was in the mountain fasting for forty days and forty nights, and he received the covenant from the Lord, stone tablet’s inscribed by the fingers of the hand of the Lord’ (4:8). But by turning to idols they lost it. For thus says the Lord: ‘Moses, Moses, go down quickly, due to the fact your people, whom you led out of Egypt, have broken the Law.’ And Moses understood and hurled the two tablets from his hands, and their covenant was broken in pieces, in order that the covenant of the 46beloved Jesus might be sealed in our heart, in hope inspired by faith in him.547 Barnabas addresses, what he considers to be, a disturbing attitude held by some members of the community he addresses (Bar. 4:6; 13:1; and 14:1). Barnabas’s adversaries seem to favor a closer affiliation with the traditions and beliefs of Jewish founding fathers. It is also possible that some members of Barnabas’s community may have thought that the covenant belongs to both: the descendants of the Jewish founders and to Gentile believers in Jesus, and therefore were not differentiating sufficiently between the two. Barnabas warns the addressees against being influenced by these individuals.548 241 Barnabas argues that ‘they’ never ‘truly’ did possess the covenant (chp. 13 and 14). It was given, Barnabas declares, ‘but they were not worthy to receive it due to the fact of their sins’ (14.1). Barnabas’s unique doctrine is that the Jewish Law never did have any validity; it was nothing but a misunderstanding on ‘their’ part. Pauline believers in Jesus must make sure, by being accurate, that they do not make a similar mistake (2.10).549 Per Barnabas only ‘we’ are blessed and ‘they’ never were the chosen people.550 The author rejects the notion that the covenant could be shared. He argues that it never was ‘theirs’ and was always (in God’s intention) ‘ours.’ The Gentile followers of Paul became the ‘people of inheritance’ (14:4) and received the covenant (14:5) and that was what God always intended. The Temple It has been argued that the threat that the Temple might be rebuilt profoundly disturbs Barnabas’s convictions about the meaning of recent historical events and is one reason for his particularly negative account of the character, traditions and beliefs of his Jewish opponents.551 The growing emphasis on the destruction of the Temple as signaling ‘their’ demise would be proven void by the rebuilding of the Temple, which is perceived as a major threat. From Hebrews and Barnabas on, an explicitly apologetic use of the Jewish War and the loss of the Temple became integral to the discourse.552 Most scholars seem to agree that Barnabas reflects fear among Gentile believers in Jesus about the impact of the rebuilding of the Temple. The prophecy in 16.3–4 should be taken in conjunction with that in 4.3–5, as indicating a peril that is about to break upon the church.553 However, they disagree on the importance of this hope in fueling Barnabas’s furor against ‘them.’554 Destruction of the Temple in 70 CE is deployed by Barnabas as testimony to ‘their’ loss of God’s favor. For Barnabas, ‘they’ are like Pagans in their attitudes toward the Temple. ‘Their’ relationship to the Temple is paganized in the service of Pauline apologetic: ‘Moreover I will tell you likewise concerning the temple, how these wretched men being led astray set their hope on the building, and not on their God that made them, as being a house of God’ (16.1).555 242 Wedge Issues, Stumbling Blocks The dietary traditions —According to Barnabas, the food laws were not intended for literal use, but for allegorical instruction regarding correct ethical behavior (Chapter 10).556 In the last verse of Chapter 10 he states: ‘But how was it possible for them to understand or comprehend these things? But we having a righteous understanding of them announce the commandments as the Lord wished’ (10:12). What is forbidden refers to forms of sinful behavior. What is permitted supports the superior spiritual focus of the author’s form of belief in Jesus. It is only ‘them’ who cannot grasp or understand this, who insist that these prohibitions refer to actual foods.557Barnabas disparages ‘them’ by suggesting that their incorrect understanding of the law originates in moral deficiency558 ‘Moses received three doctrines concerning food and thus spoke of them in the Spirit; but they received them as really referring to food, owing to the lust of their flesh’ (10:9). Some of the author’s contentions on Jewish dietary law are particularly bizarre. The segments on his opponents’ dietary traditions are worth reading as a gateway to the peculiar mind of this first-century enthusiast. Sabbath observance —Barnabas encourages Gentiles to worship on Sunday instead of Saturday. The Sabbath is understood as an eschatological parable (Chapter 15). The eschatological Sabbath replaces the weekly Sabbaths. This will occur after six thousand years (15:3–6) for in these present evil times the Sabbath cannot be sanctified (15:6–7).559 Gentile believers at any rate have their own day of celebration, Sunday (15:9). Circumcision —Some Gentile believers in Jesus, under the sway of the Jewish faction, would understand circumcision to indicate participation in the covenant with God and, hence, an integral part of being followers of Jesus.560 However, for the author ‘they’ misinterpreted the commandment to circumcise by interpreting it literally (Chapter 9) and ‘[h]e circumcised our hearing, so that we might hear the word and believe’ (9:4). The circumcision in which ‘they’ have placed their confidence has brought them nothing. What God commanded was not circumcision of the flesh: ‘They transgressed, due to the fact a wicked angel instructed them’ (9:4).561 243 Barnabas’s metaphorical view of circumcision originates within Judaism (Lev. 26:41; Deut. 10:16; 30:6; Jer. 4:4; 6:10; 9:26). Jewish exhortations of the faithful to see beyond the literal observance of the Torah, a staple of Jewish spirituality and of Jewish mysticism, are harnessed by Barnabas as arguments against ‘them.’ Torah observance —Barnabas alerts his audience not to imitate those who stray from proper behavior (Bar. 4:6). He aims to negate the authority of the traditions and rituals of the Jewish followers of Jesus (Bar. 5:4)562 by using an adversarial interpretation of the Jewish law and arguing that the Mosaic Law was never supposed to be interpreted literally. Therefore, those who lived according to the literal understanding of the law (i.e., the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers) were wrong. Per the author, Gentile believers in Jesus, who found the customs and traditions of the founding fathers attractive and practiced them, were misguided and were being misled.563 He warns Gentile believers against becoming ‘shipwrecked by conversion’ (3:6). 564The author’s thinking is shot through with powerful end-of-times convictions. The present age is an evil age, controlled by the evil one (2:1, 10; 4:1, 13), but time is running out and the last days are here (4:3, 9; 16:5; 21:3) preceded by certain judgment (15:1–3; 21:6). The writer’s sense of urgency is unambiguous, and it was presumably either shared by his readers, or something he wished to inculcate in them. And, in striking similarity with Hebrews and John, it is suggested that some were dropping out of communal gatherings (4:10), while others might even have abandoned the faith: Now to us indeed it is manifest that these things so befell for this reason, but to them they were dark, because they heard not the voice of the Lord. (8.7) But whence should they perceive or understand these things? Howbeit we having justly perceived the commandments tell them as the Lord willed. To this end He circumcised our ears and hearts, that we might understand these things. (10:12)565 244 Barnabas and Qumran Barnabas seems to emulate-incorporate-appropriate a pattern of religion we find in Qumran:566 1. God has given a covenant at Sinai. 2. That covenant, through the agency of an extraordinary individual, is the possession of the community. Those outside the community have forfeited their right to it through their sins. 3. The correct interpretation of the commandments, of the covenant, of the scriptures, and of the prophets lies with the community. However, and significantly, Qumran aims its anti-establishment arrows at the Judean religious establishment and calls for the return of the Jewish people to righteousness. Barnabas, on the other hand, attempts to negate the validity of the Jewish leadership of the Jesus movement by appropriating Qumran-like sectarian rhetorical idiosyncrasies – and using them as antiestablishment polemic within the Jesus movement. In Barnabas, we find echoes of the anti-Jewish-establishment posturing and of the Two Ways’567 material that we encounter in the texts of Judean sectarian communities (Qumran, I Enoch, Jubilees). We have already noted that the “Two Ways” theme568 is the label given by scholars to a Judean sectarian worldview that sees this world as the battleground between the forces of good and evil. This is contrary to the traditional Israelite view that creation was good and benign. The resentful, righteous, and militant posturing of Jewish sectarians is oftentimes intertwined and undistinguishable from the “Two Ways” material. Nonetheless, the distinction is useful to separate the polemical from the theological aspects of this separatist subculture. These themes and attitudes characterized Jewish sectarians and may have migrated to Gentile settings through the agency of the descendants of the founding fathers— most probably through a group (or individual) who joined, and later seceded, from a community of Jewish followers of Jesus.569 Barnabas’s ‘two ways’ motif has angelic powers, and ‘the ruler of this present lawlessness’ (18.2). The times are evil, and there is evil lurking to ‘sling us out from our life’ (2.10).570 245 Barnabas seems to imitate Qumran and other Judean sectarians where the official Jewish cult is seen as displeasing to God, idolatrous, and evil. Another area of similarity and difference between Barnabas and Qumran is the covenant. We have already noted that Barnabas: (1) holds to the view that there is one covenant; (2) regards the covenant as containing the right laws if only interpreted correctly; and (3) is strongly opposed to the idea that the covenant is anything other than the possession of those espousing the author’s interpretation of Jesus’s legacy. However, although the Qumran texts regularly speak of a ‘new covenant’ (CD 6:19; 8:21; 20:12; IQpHab 2:3f.), there does not seem to be a great disjunction between this new covenant and the covenant that it seems to replace. In Qumran, what is new in the ‘new covenant’ are secret teachings, present in the law from eternity, but only revealed to the community through the teacher of righteousness (IQpHab 7:4f.), or in another formulation the Zadokite priests (see IQSb 3:24; IQS 5:21f.).571 My Barnabas+ Some have argued that Barnabas is fighting Judaistic inclinations among his addressees. Others have drawn the conclusion that Barnabas perceives Judaism itself as an actual threat. For many modern scholars, the author is reacting to the attractiveness of Judaism and answers are to be found in the conflict between the synagogue and the Church.572 Traditionally, scholars have seen the purpose of Barnabas as bound up with Judaism, either directly or indirectly. That Jewish observances, the Temple, the covenant, and the Land are the central themes of Barnabas’s polemical exegesis is widely recognized.573 During the last decades some scholars have begun to differentiate intended adversaries from literary or metaphorical ones and advocate an internal setting for these debates. Gentile Judaizers, Gentile sympathizers with Judaism, are increasingly seen as the intended targets. Murray, in the footsteps of Wilson and others, suggests that the targets are Christian Judaizers.574 However, Barnabas’ abusive treatment of Judaism reflects a struggle about identity, ascendancy, and legitimacy within the Jesus movement. Judaism got dragged into the whirlwind as consequence of the fact that the movement was originally Jewish and that the shift to a Gentile majority led to a de246 Judaizing thrust. Barnabas ‘turned the tables’ against the establishment of the Jesus movement and claimed that Gentiles who embraced his interpretation of Jesus’s legacy were the new holders of the covenant with YHWH; the New Israel. Judean sectarian traditions, prophetic chastisement, selfcriticism, allegory, and metaphor (most probably originating from Jesus’s disciples and first followers) are turned against them. In Barnabas, and throughout the texts of early Gentile believers, attacks on Judaism by some and attraction to it by others, should be understood as symptoms of an identity crisis within the Jesus movement. The scenario advocated here posits that Barnabas’ intended adversaries are Gentile sympathizers with the founding faction. The author of the Epistle seems to be a Gentile who joined, and later seceded from, a community of Jewish followers of Jesus (and therefore had some exposure to Judaism). This profile could fit this peculiar text and its many idiosyncrasies. Barnabas’s superficial acquaintance with Judaism and his crude argumentation signals that his intended audience was Gentile. In this setting, Judaism could be made into whatever the author’s rich imagination concocted it to be. ‘We’ (Pauline believers) are the only truly ethical people, the only true inheritors of the covenant and the only rightful interpreters of the Jewish sacred scriptures. ‘Their’ (the Jewish followers of Jesus) understanding of their own traditions is wrong and ‘their’ covenant is an illusion. God did give the covenant to the Israelites, but their transgressions made them unworthy to receive it: ‘Moses received it, but they were not worthy’ (14:1–3).575 The author claims that the covenant was always ‘our’ possession, that it had never belonged to ‘them’ in the first place.576 The implied message seems to be: Judaism misinterpreted and misunderstood its heritage. Therefore, the Jewish faction cannot have it right either. Barnabas seems to be part of a chain of sectarian affront to a group in position of authority. The author of the Epistle of Barnabas criticizes Jewish interpretations of scripture and Jewish religious practices in order to dissuade members of his community from attraction to the descendants of the founding fathers and from observing their customs. In Barnabas, the adversaries are not the Synoptic High Priests, Jewish authorities, Elders, 247 Pharisees, scribes, nor John’s Ioudaioi, but ‘they’/ ‘them.’ The deployment of ‘they’/ ‘them’ is essentially similar in intent to John’s deployment of the term ‘Ioudaioi’ and aims at the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers or their Gentile sympathizers—directly or through ‘the Jews’ as a proxy, or as a derogative identifier. Barnabas’s outlook must be intimately linked to the background against which it was written: context-shaped theology.577 Barnabas’s peculiar theological position, that the Jewish followers of Jesus misunderstood their own sacred texts and that God’s covenant with ‘them’ was a temporary measure (9:4), seems to be reasonably fitted to the erupting struggle within the Jesus movement and is an expansion of Mark’s disciples who did not understand. This position shadows the claim of the PaulineMarkan-Lukan faction that the legitimacy and the leadership of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers was temporary and that their understanding of Jesus’s ministry was mistaken. In reaction to what he perceived to be the excessive influence that they exerted over members of his community, Barnabas targets the Jewish faction—who were, at the time and to many, the acknowledged inheritors, guardians, and interpreters of Jesus’s ministry. Barnabas argues that the Mosaic Law was never supposed to be interpreted literally. Therefore, the descendants of the Jewish founders, who lived according to the traditional Jewish understanding of the Torah, were wrong, and Gentile believers who found Jewish customs attractive and practiced them were being deceived. Barnabas’s anti-Judaism is proto-orthodox; it is the anti-Judaism inherent in appropriation-substitution, as distinct from the anti-Judaism of rejection (Marcionites and Gnostics). The full measure of Barnabas’s vitriol is difficult to convey. Barnabas is relentless: ‘They’ are Pagan-like (16.1–3), demonized (7. 10), Jesus’s sacrifice completed the full measure of the sins of those who persecuted the prophets and put them to death (5:11–12). In addition, misreading of God’s will, diabolical inspiration, and an endless array of derogatory rhetoric are dispensed without the slightest restraint. Barnabas and Hebrew’s attempted to provide to Gentile followers of Paul a theological foundation to address the continuity-discontinuity conundrum vis-à-vis the founding faction: how to defend the yearning of Gentiles to be 248 acknowledged as rightful believers in Jesus, while rejecting the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by those chosen by him to be the custodians of his legacy. Barnabas’s extreme disparagement of the character, traditions and beliefs of his opponents and his often-bizarre arguments did eventually relegate it to the margins of canonicity. However, regardless of the identity of the immediate or intended adversaries, many elements of the author’s response to the attraction to Jewish beliefs and traditions among his flock are offensive to Jews and, read literally, are anti-Jewish.578 Overall, Barnabas’s tactic of choice is the erosion, through vilification and disparagement, of the high esteem that the beliefs, traditions, and institutions of the Jewish leadership had among some Gentile believers. Barnabas’s incorporation-appropriation of the identity and lore of the Jewish founders into a Gentile narrative is one of the earliest and clearest instances of the supersessionary trajectory. Barnabas is also one of the earliest, explicit, and crude attempts to Gentilize belief in Jesus by delegitimizing the character, traditions and beliefs of the founders. This ambivalent and seemingly contradictory approach (incorporation-appropriation while superseding-gentilizing) to ‘the Jewish question,’ found in embryonic form in Paul and in the Synoptics, will be deployed during the next three hundred years against the descendants of the Jewish founders and their Gentile sympathizers in a variety of configurations. 249 250 *Supersession Theology Summary+ By the dawn of the second century, the antagonism between followers of Jesus of Jewish ancestry and believers in Jesus of Pagan ancestry was a few generations old and building up. Within a couple of generations after Jesus’s short ministry, the missions to the Gentiles and the descendants of the Jewish founders created a bipolar reality that made a confrontation about identity, legitimacy, and authority unavoidable. Christianity-as-we-know-it emerges from the melting pot of the religious ‘civil war’ that followed. The texts before us were authored during this period and reflect the factionalism, confusion, anxiety, and heightened emotions that characterized the early phases of this struggle. Flanked on all sides of the theological spectrum, the Pauline faction opted for the midway between the rejection of, and continuity with, the Jewish faction. Thus, given the proto-orthodox inclination to appropriate the identity and the lore of the Jewish founding fathers, the choice of the Israelites as YHWH’s beloved had to be annulled, to undercut the claim of the descendants of the Jewish founders to being ‘God’s chosen,’ the ‘New Israel,’ and the legitimate custodians of Jesus ministry.579 Thus, to vest the Pauline faction as God’s new favorites, YHWH had to be ‘freed’ from his particularistic commitment to the Jewish people. It is probable that we will never know with certainty what Paul’s true attitude toward Judaism was. We know, however, that when Gentile believers needed a foundation for their rejection of the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founders of the Jesus movement, they found in Paul the theological and polemical support they needed. Whether their interpretation was based 251 on a true and correct understanding of Paul’s intent (the traditionalists) or on its distortion (the revisionists) is an open debate. Supersession theology has two main components: appropriation and replacement. Appropriation refers to the attempts by Pauline believers to vest themselves as the inheritors of the authority, identity, legitimacy, and lore of the Jewish founding fathers of the Jesus movement. Replacement refers to the view that the Pauline interpretation of Jesus’ legacy replaced, annulled, and superseded the beliefs and traditions of Jesus’ disciples and first followers. Supersession theology is couched in extreme and unequivocal terms and has two derivatives of special interest to us: the Jewish loss of God’s favor and the supersession of Judaism in all things religious and ethical. Supersession theology is the theological articulation of the Pauline claim to the exclusive custody of Jesus’s legacy. The anchors of appropriation supersession theology (Hebrews, Barnabas, and Justin) built on the selective and early appropriation-incorporation of elements of the lore, traditions, and beliefs of the Jewish founders, by previous Gentile believers. To claim continuity with Jesus’s ministry, and to keep the members of contending factions in the fold, the emerging ‘orthodoxy’ retained some elements of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers but rejected the core customs and traditions of Torah observance, circumcision, and dietary law. The arguments and the language deployed by the Pauline faction against the establishment of the Jesus movement emulate the language, the arguments, and the imagery that we encounter among Jewish sectarians and, we assume, would encounter among the Jewish followers of Jesus. From the second century forward, and standing on Mark, the Paulines will ‘turn the tables’ and will confront the descendants of the founding fathers with Jewishsectarian-like claims they harvested from the founders’ texts and traditions. This identity emulation-transformation is unique in world history, is fascinating in its dynamics, tragic in its consequences. By internalizing elements of the identity and lore of the descendants of the Jewish founders, the Pauline faction emerged from this process thinking and 252 feeling as a persecuted Jewish sect. Thus, the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers became the involuntary agents and facilitators in the transformation of non-Jewish believers into militant enthusiasts displaying a variety of Qumran-like sectarian rhetoric and characteristics. Although this theological ploy was originally aimed at the descendants of the founding fathers, it eventually led to the disenfranchisement of Judaism. The tension between the rejection of core beliefs and customs of the founding fathers and the wish to claim continuity with them, embedded a deep ambivalence toward Judaism at the core of the emerging theology and teachings. Forfeiture of God’s Favor - All civilizations have attempted to grapple with the mysteries of divine favor and divine wrath. The loss of God’s favor, God’s wrath, and God’s chastisement are recurring motifs in most ancient Near Eastern cultures. Since time immemorial humans have attempted to decipher the ever-present and turbulent oscillations of life and fate. The efforts to understand the vicissitudes of health, fortune, fertility, wealth, and survival pervade the lore of human civilizations since the dawn of history. Throughout the Near East the Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Hittite, Canaanite, and Israelite cultures pondered the divine in search for answers to these existential questions. In many ancient civilizations, divine wrath and misfortune were understood as originating in non-compliance with the sacrifices and ceremonies instituted to court the favor of the divine realm. The Mesopotamian ‘Gilgamesh Epic’ and ‘Enuma Elish,’ the Egyptian ‘Deliverance of Mankind from Destruction,’ the Israelite flood story, the Canaanite ‘Epic of the Gods,’ and the Hittite ‘Myth of Telepinu’ all attempt to grapple with these fundamental questions. With this background in mind and as the crisis in the Jesus camp intensified, a theological narrative was necessary to underpin the claim to the transfer of the Jewish God’s favor to its new, non-Jewish and self-appointed, beneficiaries. Thus, supersession theology seems to have emerged to explain to Gentile believers in Jesus the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus via the ‘loss of God’s favor’ by all Jews, to the inclusion of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. The alleged Jewish ‘loss of God’s favor,’ which sustains supersession theology, is an elaboration (by non-Jews) of a traditional Jewish sectarian attitude toward establishment Judaism. The 253 Pauline invectives ‘you have forfeited God’s favor,’ and ‘you are irredeemable’ echo similar claims by the Enochic, Jubelean, and Qumranic Judean sectarians, and may have been part of the lore of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Judean Self-Criticism - It is noteworthy that Israelites developed a remarkable and unparalleled inclination and predisposition for self-criticism and introspection that may have originated in the dialectic between the monarchy, the tribal structure, and the religious establishment. Prophets were an integral part of the Israelite nation during the Davidic era and often served as an ethical, political, and religious counterbalance to the monarchy and the religious establishment. Some prophets were political insiders; others were from the political fringes. Some prophets were part of the cultural elite; others were uneducated. Not all biblical prophets were alike; some were subservient to the crown,580 while others confronted the monarchy and the people. Most demanded ethical conduct from both. The anti-establishment stance of the canonical prophets, and the recurrent chastisement of the nation, became central to the nation’s psyche and culture. Cycles of favor and disfavor and of grace and sin, engendered by this tradition and probably inserted by priestly editors, were seized upon by later Jewish sectarians to chastise the nation and its rulers. Most biblical prophets exhorted the flock to repent and return to the ways of the Lord. The often-adversarial prophet-king relationship that we encounter throughout much of the Israelite texts reflects not only the tensions between secular and religious elites, but also a tradition of opposition to power and despotism that originates in the pre-monarchical tribal setting.581 However, in ‘real-time’ it was impossible to distinguish “true prophecy” from the many seers, fortune-tellers, political doomsayers, and false prophets who crowded the biblical marketplace of divination.582 At any given time, there were many ‘prophets,’ some supporting one side of a controversy, others supporting the opposing view. The biblical standard for true prophesy is Deut. 18:22: ‘[W]hen a prophet speaks in the name of the LORD, if the word does not come to pass or come true, that is a word which the LORD has not spoken; the prophet has spoken it presumptuously, you need not be afraid of him.’ Canonization of 254 prophets came during the second Temple period and was a retroactive exercise by scribes and religious functionaries aimed at furthering religious interests and agendas. It is no surprise that among the many prophets and seers active in the Israelite marketplace of divination, the Jewish canon favors prophets who challenged the monarchy and therefore laid the ground to legitimate the transition from the Davidic dynasty to priestly rule. Ruether is correct when she claims that prophetic exhortation is significantly different from Christian claims about Israel’s apostasy and forfeiture of God’s favor due to the emotional and national loyalties of the critics. The former are members of a group articulating an edifying call to the flock, the latter is an attempt to divest a nation of its identity and heritage.583 Evans probes further and concludes that in-house prophetic criticism, no longer understood as a challenge from within the community of faith, was understood as condemnation of a particular people outside of the faith—the people who had rejected Jesus, his apostles, and the church.584 Beck adds that the self-criticism that Judaism did permit made it vulnerable to the polemical attacks of its offspring and later competitors.585 Judean self-criticism and Judean anti-establishment rhetoric, the quarry where many Pauline polemical stones originate, do reflect Jewish humility and the traditional Judean inclination to chastise and humble the people and its leaders. When the nation’s prophets chastise the people and add the burden of guilt and sin, to the consequences of a national calamity or defeat, it may be considered a benign effort to edify the nation, a call for renewed commitment to Torah observance. Harnessing the nation’s suffering may be acceptable (although ethically questionable) in the context of internal selfcriticism. However, the Israelite tradition of self-criticism was harnessed by Pauline thinkers to ‘justify’ the Jewish ‘forfeiture of God’s favor’ (i.e., the transfer of God’s favor from the founding faction to the Gentile followers of Paul). As we attempt to decipher and map how this incorporationappropriation of the traditions and scriptures of the Jewish followers of Jesus by the Gentile followers of Paul eventually morphed into claims to the supersession of ‘Judaism’ by ‘Christianity,’ and into the Christian selfperception as the ¨New Israel¨ and the ¨New People of God¨ it is 255 noteworthy that his takeover of the Jewish scriptures became one of the most formidable and enduring characteristics of the proto-orthodox quest for ascendancy. We have witnessed how these assertions gradually morphed into claims to the supersession of ‘Judaism’ by ‘Christianity.’ Centuries later, the projection onto Judaism of this rhetoric (originally aimed at the Jewish founders of Jesus) did create an untenable situation for a militant and exclusivist church aiming for worldwide ascendancy and claiming to exclusive status as YHWH’s chosen. The continuing existence of Judaism eventually became a threat to the church’s legitimacy and hegemony, ushering-in increasingly extreme measures. Sin and Guilt - The unjustifiable suffering of the innocent and the recurrence of ‘righteous but vanquished’ and of ‘evil but victorious’ have challenged ethical monotheists since law, religion, and ethics first merged, apparently in King Hammurabi’s law code (Babylonia 1795–1750 BCE). Under the construct of ethical monotheism, suffering and defeat are signs of God’s displeasure or the consequence of sinful behavior. National defeats or disasters are seen as retribution for sinfulness. Thus, unjustifiable evil and suffering, in a world created by a benevolent, omniscient, and omnipotent deity, posit a daunting challenge to ethical monotheists. In the ancient world, victory in war or a long and peaceful reign were considered signs of divine favor. Defeat was a sign of divine disapproval.586 The perception that misfortune is a sign of God’s displeasure comes from an equation common to most ancient cultures and religions: divine favor brings good fortune. This axiom has been the legitimating creed of the victors, the powerful, and the mighty since times immemorial. Moreover, ethical monotheists tend to see victory as a sign of righteousness and predestination, making critical and rational historical analysis difficult and uncommon. This axiom transforms victims into accomplices in their own suffering and inculcates in them inner doubt, self-loathing, and a sense of ‘deserving’ their tragic circumstances. The mechanism at play is a double jeopardy of the 256 victim. The victim, individual or nation, not only suffer the calamity and its consequences; it is also driven to accept the burden of guilt and sin. Furthermore, when the poor, the meek, and the victim are made responsible for their predicament, they are also made guilty of their circumstances, thereby ‘freeing’ society from responsibility. When the Jewish God entered the Pauline pantheon, he had been the traveling companion of the Judean nation for many generations (3,500 years according to Jewish scripture, some 1,500–2,000 years according to historical research). By the turn of the era, the Judean engagement of the divine realm already embodied a long mythical and historical journey whose origins can be traced back to Canaanite deities. Contrary to popular misperceptions, the Judean journey from the henotheistic587 outlook of its tribal origins to monotheism was hard fought, protracted and complex. Per Jewish scripture, YHWH is a just and severe God who is also inscrutable, wrathful, vengeful, zealous, capricious, and temperamental. Furthermore, the Jewish God is omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient but not necessarily benevolent. This complex and seemingly contradictory persona may facilitate the believer’s coping with the reality of evil. In Judaism, evil, suffering, and injustice are part of the complexity of reality. Thus, Jews can accommodate evil without processing it into personal sin and guilt, avoiding the devastating effects that this internalization has on other ethical monotheists. Gentile believers in Jesus, free from the ethnic and historical burdens of the Jewish faction, did gravitate toward a fully benevolent, omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient God. However, since an omnipotent and benevolent God is incompatible with the recurring suffering of the righteous and the fortune of sinners, and evil cannot be attributed to God, Gentile believers must internalize evil by processing it into individual sin and guilt— theirs or their enemies’. Destruction of the Temple - The destruction of the Temple looms large in the canonical and in the authoritative lore.588 The failed revolution of 70 CE and the destruction of the Temple became a central polemical tool in the demotion of the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement and in the deJudaizing of belief in Jesus. We have seen that, in accordance with the ancient understanding of the divine impact on military affairs, opponents 257 would interpret the destruction of the Temple as a theological omen. It is no surprise, therefore, that the non-Jewish factions understood the loss of the Jewish cultic epicenter as supportive of their campaign to delegitimize the character, traditions and beliefs of their opponents. The defeat of the Jews was seen as synonymous to the defeat of the Jewish faction, and it was embraced as a trove in the propaganda war against them. In other words, the attempts to discredit, and disenfranchise the Jewish followers of Jesus were ‘corroborated’ by ‘God’s unequivocal rejection of the Jews’ - as illustrated by the destruction of the Temple. The destruction of the Temple as the pivot of Jewish decline, and as the turning point in Jewish-Christian relations, has been questioned by reevaluations that downgrade the impact of the Jewish War of 70 CE 12 and emphasize the devastation inflicted upon Judea during the Bar Kochba revolt of 135 CE.589 Furthermore, although loss and decimation were great during the Jewish War, the Judeans had a long record of resiliency on which they could draw. The nation had rebounded from many reversals, God had rescued the Israelites from previous exiles in Egypt and Babylonia, and the Temple had been rebuilt before.590 At the time, the destruction of the Temple would not signal an irreversible loss of God’s favor. Nor do Jewish sources support the Gentile claim that the loss of the Temple invalidated the observance of the Law or signaled the end of the covenant. 591 Moreover, the legitimacy of the Herodian Temple had long been controversial among Jews and its destruction was not seen as a definitive blow to Judean national aspirations. Anti-Temple sentiment, and the belief that it was sacrilegious or had been defiled and desecrated, were rather common in first-century Judea.592 Many considered the priesthood in power and its liturgy blasphemous.593 The decline in the status and in the prestige of the high priests (not rightful Zadokite priests but rather traitors, collaborators, and Roman appointees) fueled anti-Temple sentiment. The Temple, the priesthood, and the cult were the focus of intense debates. Not all Jews were satisfied with the conduct of the Jerusalem cult, and many boycotted it.594 Furthermore, the Temple, built by King Herod whose questionable Jewish ancestry was problematic to many traditionalists, was considered by many to be sacrilegious and impure. In addition, Herod was a Roman vassal who had 258 been imposed and sustained by the Roman conquerors. His pro-Roman orientation made him, and his actions suspect and controversial. He was hated by the populace. The murder, by Herod, of the surviving members of the Hasmonean Dynasty (the ruling clan since the Maccabean revolt) further alienated most Judeans. The Qumranites, whose sacred texts are available to us in the Dead Sea Scrolls, were virulently ‘anti-establishment’ and considered the Temple priesthood ‘the sons of darkness,’ the Temple defiled. Craig Evans supports the thesis that Jesus’s actions, similar to the Qumran position on this subject, were directed to the cleansing of the Temple595 not to its destruction. 259 A recapitulation of the arguments that point to a needed reevaluation of the overstatements concerning the impact of the destruction of the Temple: 1. High priests were, for the most part, appointed by the conquerors and lost their religious legitimacy in the eyes the local population. Most of these traitors and collaborators with the Roman conquerors were opportunists that collected taxes and ruled the provinces on behalf of foreign oppressors. The decline in their prestige contributed to the decline in the status of the Temple prior to its destruction. 2. Many Judeans considered the edifice that was destroyed in 70 CE a sacrilege. It had been built by Herod who had murdered all the legitimate descendants to the throne under the patronage of foreign occupiers. Many, sectarian and mainstream alike, considered the Herodian Temple an abomination and prayed for its destruction. 3. The destruction of the Herodian Temple was seen by most Jews as a setback that called for repentance and renewal, not a sign of a permanent rift between YHWH and his chosen. 4. By 70 ce, the transition from Temple-based to Synagogue-based Judaism was already underway. Consequently, the destruction of the Temple did not end Jewish continuity. The emergence of Rabbinical Judaism following the failed Judean revolutions was facilitated by the fact that, by that time, synagogues and prayer houses provided a foundation for Jewish life in Judea and in the Diasporas.596 5. In the ancient world, the military defeat of small nations often led to the eradication of the vanquished party as a political, religious, and cultural entity. However, by the turn of the era, Judaism had a collective history that extend over many generations and included many victories and many defeats. Military defeat or the destruction of the Temple, although great national tragedies, were not understood by Jews as ‘the end of the road.’ In the aftermath of the Jewish War and emboldened by the Jewish defeat and by the decimation of the communities of the Jewish followers of Jesus in Judea, Pauline believers stepped up their de-Judaizing effort. However, it was only after the Judean defeat of the Bar Kochba rebellion (135 CE) that the Pauline faction launched a more overt crusade against the descendants of 260 Jesus’s disciples and first followers. Wilson and others have concluded that the Bar Kochba rebellion may have spurred Gentile thinkers to recognize that the outcome of the Jewish War was final and God’s judgment irrevocable.597 The Judean defeats (the Jewish War 66–74, the uprisings in Cyrene and Egypt in 115–117 ce, and the Bar Kochba revolt 132–135) became rhetorical ramps that facilitated the de-Judaizing of the Jesus movement and the assault on the legitimacy of the Jewish elite. With the Bar Kochba revolt, the slow decline of the descendants of the Jewish founders accelerated, and the slow ascendancy of the Pauline faction was enabled and facilitated. The emphasis is on ‘slow,’ for despite the decimation of their Judean strongholds, the Jewish faction and their Gentile sympathizers remained a formidable opponent. Not until Theodosius I (379–395 ce) did the demotion of the descendants of the founding fathers reach an irreversible turning point. In summary, Jewish defeats were seen by the Pauline faction as a reflection of God’s wrath and were deemed to support and justify their claim to being the new guardians of Jesus’s legacy. The suffering of the Jews, to the inclusion of the descendants of the founding fathers, was showcased as proof of their ‘loss of God’s favor.’ The underlying rationale seems to have been that if the Jews were no longer God’s chosen, the Jewish followers of Jesus could no longer claim to be the guardians of Jesus’s legacy either. Supersession Theology – Afterthoughts+ As the Pauline mission absorbed ever increasing numbers of Pagan converts, its goals and objectives grew ever larger: from yearnings for recognition as legitimate believers in Jesus, to claims to primacy within the Jesus movement, to assertions about the supersession-replacement of the identity and lore of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Hebrews and Barnabas, roughly contemporaneous with the canonical gospels, articulated and put forward in overt and explicit format, the supersessionary impetus that seems to underwrite the canonical gospels. Barnabas and Hebrews deploy non-gospel literary vehicles to articulate theological messages that are implicit and veiled in the gospels. The claim that ‘their’ understanding of Jesus’s ministry was mistaken is embryonic in Mark’s disciples who ‘did not understand.’ 261 Moreover, it is noteworthy that the authors/editors of the canonical gospels framed Jesus’ ministry as ‘the rejection of Jesus by the Jews’ at a time when the mission to the Jews was ongoing and followers of Jesus of Jewish origin were active among fellow Jews. At the time, a definitive end of the mission to the Jews was still in the future, an outcome unknown to the protagonists. It is noteworthy that, at the time of authorship, the claims put forward by these authors were audacious and extraordinary - given that they were made when the Pauline mission to the Gentiles was a few decades old, chaotic, in flux, and uncertain of its theological footing. The claim that non-Jews had the correct understanding of a national and religious tradition spanning, at the time, hundreds of generations—a religious tradition that enjoyed the respect and admiration of the ancient world —was astonishing. These claims put forward by recent converts still uncertain of what their beliefs were, or should be—would be considered unfounded, extraordinary and odd by contemporaneous intellectuals and thinkers. The appropriation-supersession move by Pauline leaders and intellectuals seems to have emerged to counter the arguments of their adversaries that Jesus was a Torah-observant Jew and that his beliefs and traditions should be at the core of belief in Jesus. Since the Paulines rejected Judaism but did not want to reinvent themselves outside the Jewish narrative, they had to articulate a rationale for this continuity-discontinuity dissonance. It seems that, to confront this dilemma, Pauline proto-orthodox intellectuals and leaders gravitated to the deployment of a variety of means to erode the status of the descendants of the founding fathers (use of Jesus’s life story to denigrate the disciples, the subversion-appropriation of the anti-Jewishestablishment lore and rhetoric of the Jewish founders, the decontextualizing of the Hebrew Scriptures and of Judean self-criticism). These authors emulated long-standing traditions of sectarian critique and rhetoric within Second Temple Judaism, by subverting-appropriating the lore of the founding faction. By ‘borrowing a page’ from their opponents’ anti-Jewish-establishment lore (or from other Jewish sectarians) the authors attack the Levitical priesthood, the Law, the validity of the Israelite covenant with YHWH, and the Temple sacrifices—all traditional targets of Judean sectarians and the subject of heated debates among Second Temple Jews. 262 By harvesting the anti-Jewish-establishment lore of Judean sectarians, these authors gathered an assortment of ‘off-the-shelf’ rhetorical arrows that they could harness to argue for the demotion of the establishment of the Jesus movement. This collection of polemical tools included arguments originally deployed by Jewish sectarians against the Judean establishment (you have lost God’s favor, we are God’s new chosen, we are the New Israel, we embody a new covenant, the Temple and the priesthood are defiled and no longer authoritative, etc.…). However, contrary to Judean sectarians who used this rhetoric to reform Judaism, proto-orthodox Gentiles wanted to eradicate Judaism from the Jesus movement. This inclined them to decontextualize, expand, and intensify the appropriated polemic. The authors claim the identity, history, and legacy of the founding fathers by claiming that Gentile believers, of their particular persuasion, are the true heirs and the righteous inheritors of YHWH’s promises to the Israelites (a claim most probably put forward by their Jewish adversaries vis- à -vis mainstream Judaism). The God of the Israelites is cast as declaring the end of the ‘old’ covenant and the inauguration of the new. Raiding and decontextualizing Jewish sacred scripture to ‘prove’ the superiority of the Pauline worldview became a trademark of the Pauline strand. However, whereas the rhetoric of Judean sectarians was aimed at remedying the behavior of fellow Jews and allowed for a benign future for Judaism, Pauline rhetoric evolved to negate a future for their Jewish opponents. To them, eradicating the beliefs and rituals of the Jewish faction became critical and existential. The selective appropriation of the Jewish sacred scriptures, to champion their form of belief in Jesus, was one of the Pauline hallmarks and became deeply ingrained in the tradition and in the hearts and minds of later believers. In Paul, Barnabas, Revelation, John, Hebrews and in the authoritative texts of the second century we did detect corroborating evidence to the eruption of a fierce and centuries long struggle over identity, legitimacy and ascendancy within the Jesus movement. These texts were authored during the same era that witnessed the emergence of the canonical Gospels and Acts. However, while the Gospels hint at a somewhat consensual and quasiidyllic transition of leadership from the Jewish followers of Jesus to the 263 Paulines, these texts point to a period of intense and virulent strife within the Jesus movement. Therefore, we need to consider the implications of the fact that Hebrews and Barnabas, the earliest explicit articulations of supersession theology, were roughly contemporaneous with the canonical Gospels. During the same period that the Gospel authors crafted their texts and incorporated subdued hints598 against Jesus’s disciples and first followers and their descendants, the authors of Hebrews and Barnabas crafted more explicit and virulent challenges to their legitimacy and authority. Although this divergence in intensity and in degree of explicitness could be due to regional, personal, or factional differences - I am inclined to associate them to the delivery platform (the genre) chosen by each author. It seems plausible that the differences in the intensity of the anti-Jewish invective between the canonical Gospels vis- à -vis Hebrews and Barnabas reflect differences in genre and tactics, rather than in aims and ultimate purpose. Thus, the implied criticism of the disciples and of their beliefs and traditions in the canonical Gospels may be due to their being authored to function as foundational accounts of the Pauline strand, not as overt and explicit polemical tools. First-century Gentiles, still evolving toward a clear understanding, definition, and consensus about what Jesus’s legacy was or should be, often authored texts characterized by overstatement and intense militancy. If this type of disrespectful and inappropriate trespassing and disparagement would have remained an internal hyper-enthusiastic debate about Judaism, its abusive tone and content would be inconsequential and might be disregarded. Unfortunately, many of these arguments and rhetorical ploys became normative among later believers. They did become staple supersessionary views that did permeate homilies and sermons, and the hearts, minds, and souls of believers. With Hebrews and Barnabas, we arrive at the final stage of the supersessionary process within the Jesus movement, whose embryonic beginnings we detected in Mark. This controversial chain advocates the gentilizing (the de-Judaizing) of the belief in Jesus through the delegitimizing of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Whereas Mark seems to imply that Jesus’s 264 messiahship was deliberately hidden, causing the disciples to misunderstand his ministry, Barnabas and Hebrews are the first to insinuate that ‘their’ understanding of Jesus’s life and ministry was erroneous, misguided, and originated in sinful minds. Whereas Mark hints that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers did not understand Jesus’s legacy and abandoned him, Barnabas and Hebrews reach deeper; they claim that the true meaning of the Israelite journey is to be understood and deciphered by non-Jews. ‘To teach that a people’s mission in God’s providence is finished, that they have been relegated to the limbo of history, has implications which murderers will in time spell out.’599 If supersession theology emerged to provide an ideological grounding for the drive to demote the founding faction of the Jesus movement, its theological centrality collapses. The unintended consequences of this unfortunate theological turn remain tragic beyond measure, but supersession theology no longer needs be an insurmountable theological anchor. 265 266 Chapter 5 *The Post-Canonical Era Introduction The Second-Century Protagonists The emergence of the Via Media Ignatius Justin Summary Introduction+ Walter Bauer (1934) is credited with bringing to light the diversity and the complexity of the early Jesus movement, a conclusion that emerged out of a survey of the texts and traditions found in the different geographical areas of the Roman Empire. Although his methods and some of his conclusions have been questioned, most modern scholars agree that the proto-orthodox were not the only strand of belief in Jesus at the dawn of the second century, and that the Jesus movement evolved from diversity to uniformity, contrary to traditional accounts. Recent work and recent insights on the diversity of the early Jesus movement have triggered a qualified rehabilitation of the work of Bauer,600 setting the stage for a conceptual revolution in New Testament studies. Explicit support for the diversity of the early Jesus movement 601 is found in 1 Corinthians 1–4, Q, James, and in the pro-Torah segments of Matthew— 267 where we encounter early Gentile believers in Jesus not grounded on the Kerygma of the cross and resurrection (1 Cor. 15.3).602 Q, used by Matthew and Luke, does not consider Jesus’s death part of the core message and does not report on the resurrection. Furthermore, one of the most striking features of the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas and of James’s epistle is their silence on the matter of Jesus’s death and resurrection —the keystone of Paul’s missionary proclamation. These deviations from the Pauline dogma signal that, to some believers, Jesus’s significance lay in his words and in his words alone.603 The existence of early non-Pauline Gentile understandings of Jesus’s legacy is further corroborated by the non-Jewish opponents of the Johannine community. In addition, thanks to the discovery of the Nag Hammadi library (1959), scholars have gained direct access to a variety of Gnostic forms of belief in Jesus, undistorted by the orthodox filter. The traditional perception of the adversaries of Paul and of the later opponents of the Pauline faction as heresies has given way to a growing acknowledgment of the great variety of early Gentile forms of belief in Jesus. Finally, acknowledgement of the diversity of the early Jesus movement requires freeing Marcion and the Gnostics from the label of heresy and their restoration as rightful believers in Jesus. All these findings challenge the traditional dogma that early Gentile believers in Jesus were unanimous in making Jesus’s death and resurrection the fulcrum of faith. It seems that as the missions to the Gentiles grew, Gentile believers harnessed cultural currents that predominated in their environment (Judaism, Paganism, and Gnosticism) to articulate the uniqueness of Jesus’s ministry and the purpose of his early death. Of the four factions or strands that gradually emerged, three represented opposing and irreconcilable theological stands (the Jewish followers of Jesus, the Marcionites, and the Gnostics). A fourth faction, the Paulines, strived for unity and struggled to define and articulate a compromise that came to be known as the ‘Via Media.’ A multilateral struggle between these factions engulfed the Jesus movement well into the fourth century. Significantly, Judaism, Gnosticism, and Paganism were not participants in the second century religious crisis within the Jesus movement— they were 268 the themes, the subject matter, of the dispute. Therefore, when the canonical tradition and the authoritative texts denigrate Torah observance and Judaism, they reflect an internal conflict with followers of Jesus that advocated that belief in Jesus be Jewish, not a conflict with Judaism. Similarly, when the canonical and authoritative texts denigrate Gnostics and Pagans, they reflect an internal conflict with opponents advocating Gnostic or Pagan affinities, not a conflict with Paganism or Gnosticism. Overall, the road ahead is not linear, nor homogeneous. Change seems to have been gradual and subject to local, regional, and factional variation. Transitions ‘on the ground’ are often unclear, tentative, ambiguous, and complex. The shift to the upcoming overt, intense, and vicious anti-Jewish rhetoric is ‘fog-like.’ Although the rate of change along this trajectory is not always clear, the atmosphere at the two ends of the spectrum is distinct. We may not know the exact timing of each shift, but we do know when we are beyond each. The main strands that consolidate into factions during the second century had different theological centers of gravity (Torahobservance, Jesus’s sayings, secret knowledge, and Jesus’s death and resurrection) and varying degrees of affinity to the external forces without (Judaism, Paganism, mystery religions, Platonism, and Gnosticism). In the chapters, ahead we will survey the persistent, but declining, influence of the Jewish faction. The period covered by the chapters ahead encompasses more than two hundred years and straddles the post-canonical era at one end and the council of Nicaea (325 CE) at the other end. This period is characterized by the intensification of the tensions between diverse, opposing, and incompatible interpretations of Jesus’s ministry and legacy. [+Pg 189] The Second-Century Protagonists At the dawn of the second century, the Roman world was in civic, spiritual and religious turmoil. A variety of cults and sects vied for the interest and affiliation of a large number of spiritual seekers. Somewhat like the context behind the emergence of the twentieth-century eclectic ‘New Age,’ the advent of Second Century Christianities604 reflected the theological disarray of the era and attracted large numbers of converts dissatisfied with the official Roman cult. The era that we are about to enter, the second and third centuries, was a period of great religious excitement, enthusiasm, militancy, 269 and fervor. These circumstances give the second and third centuries their special flavor—an extraordinary religious intensity and militancy. This period, of great flux and vitality, winds down by the fourth century. It is noteworthy that the range and depth of the diversity that we will encounter during the second century goes far beyond the diversity we encounter today. Survival of all the second century Christianities would have created a landscape of greater diversity. Today, a large number of Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, Coptic, and Mormon denominations and strands vie for Jesus’s legacy. However, this diversity originates in one strand, the Pauline-orthodox. The Jewish Followers of Jesus605 - After the devastation of their communities during the failed Judean revolutions (70 CE and 135 ce) and following the success of the missions to the Gentiles, the descendants of the Jewish founders were under great pressure to renounce Judaism or renounce Jesus.606 Caught between two worlds, they would be marginalized and coerced by their Jewish brethren and by fellow followers of Jesus. They faced a two-front confrontation: against other Jews in defense of the messiahship of Jesus, and against Gentiles in defense of Judaism and in opposition to the deification of Jesus. We must assume a full spectrum of outcomes, ranging from those who may have severed their links with mainstream Judaism, to those who renounced Jesus. Gradually, those who remained in the Jesus camp became a marginalized, and disenfranchised minority within the Jesus movement. Scholars have gained some knowledge about the early Jewish followers of Jesus from James, Jude, the Didache, the Pseudo-Clementine literature and from their footprints and traces in Matthew, John, and Revelation. Additional insights have emerged from studies of Q and the pre-Synoptic era, and from the writings of the Greek and Latin Fathers.607 Scholars have also gained important insights by studying the Qumran, Enochic, and Jubelean texts.608 Communities with varying affinities to the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers are attested to in Irenaeus, Epiphanius, Jerome, Origen, and in the Didache and the Pseudo-Clementine literature. Often labeled Nazoraeans, Ebionites, or Ekliesates they surface in the literature as bizarre, eccentric, and heretical oddities.609 In Acts, the Jewish 270 followers of Jesus are the bridge between Jesus’s ministry and the investiture of the Pauline faction as the legitimate heirs to Jesus’s ministry. Once the role of the Jewish followers of Jesus as legitimating agents for the Pauline ascendancy and for the orthodox myth of origins is accomplished, they disappear from the historical record to resurface as marginal and disenfranchised ‘heretics.’ Overall, since most of our knowledge about the descendants of the Jewish founders stands on limited and often tendentious sources (the writings of opponents, heresiologists and apologists) – our conclusions must be tentative at best. Significantly, even though some New Testament texts seem to build on the heritage of the descendants of the Jewish founders, and that their existence and influence are palpable throughout, they are not accredited as the rightful successors of Jesus’s ministry and legacy. Throughout our journey, they will remain the unacknowledged antagonists of the writers and editors of many of the canonical and authoritative texts. As to the ‘parting of the ways’ between the Jewish followers of Jesus and the Jewish mainstream, most scholars have argued for 80–120 CE. I am inclined to suggest that there was no parting of the ways. Rather, the communities of Jewish followers in Judea were decimated by the Jewish War (70 CE) and by the Bar Kochba revolt (135 CE) and thus ceased to have a presence in Judean life. Thereafter, small and isolated communities may have survived, but the Jesus movement ceased to be a factor in Jewish life. The second ‘parting of the ways,’ the second estrangement, between Gentile and Jewish followers of Jesus is the subject of this monograph, was gradual, and lasted four centuries.610 The Pauline Faction - After Paul’s death, his followers appear to have split into multiple. A couple of generations later, two main factions emerged: Marcionite and Pauline. Among the better-known Pauline authors and texts are Mark, Luke/Acts, Hebrews, Ignatius, Justin, Polycarp, Tertullian, Irenaeus, and Eusebius (despite significant theological variance within the group). The traditional interpretation of Paul’s theological legacy was shaped by the views and mindsets of these leaders and thinkers. This is the theological chain that carries and develops the Pauline-Lukan outlook to its maturity as post-Constantine Christianity. Claimed that Gentiles superseded 271 (replaced) the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the ‘New Israel,’ as ‘God’s chosen’ and as the guardians of Jesus’s legacy. They struggled to define and articulate a theological compromise. Often identified by scholars as Christian, Paulines, or proto-orthodox, they came to dominate belief in Jesus. Paulines emphasized belief in Jesus’s death and resurrection and strove for a complex midway positioning - a cluster of themes associated with the faction. These authors saw themselves as the true interpreters of Paul’s legacy. Ignatius´ emphasis on unity and hierarchy added to the foundations provided by Paul and by the author of Luke/Acts. I use the terms Lukan, Pauline, and proto-orthodox for this faction. Most scholars do not include Paul in the Pauline faction. The Pauline faction placed itself in the middle of a theological triangle and confronted adversaries from all sides. It attempted to hold the middle ground demarcated by the theological range created by the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, and by Marcionite and Gnostic611 Gentile believers. Christian-orthodox theology was born out of this process of self-definition,612 by steering a narrow path through a maze of contending arguments. The effort at holding the middle ground had broad appeal but was burdened with ambivalences and unresolved ‘mysteries’—the tensions and unresolved dissonances resulting from incorporating opposing theologies. Some persistent themes emerge out of the proto-orthodox drive to de-Judaize the Jesus movement. These themes and motifs surface, resurface, evolve, and morph throughout our inquiry: 1. Denigration of the disciples, who ‘did not understand’ and who forsook Jesus. 2. Rejection and denigration of core beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founding fathers. 3. Jesus as alienated from fellow Jews. Jesus, a stranger among his people. 4. Exoneration of the Romans and the culpability of the Jews. 5. Intensification and expansion of the polemical rhetoric as time passes. The Paulines (proto-orthodox) were the main driving force in the eventual unification of the church’s creed and organization, and in the Christianizing 272 of the Roman Empire by the end of the fourth century—requiring the main share of our interest and scrutiny. Eventually, the proto-orthodox faction became the dominant group and is therefore often labeled Christian, Christian orthodox, or orthodox. Central to the Pauline success was the Christian community of the city of Rome. This community, large, rich, and influential, had a significant impact on the direction of belief in Jesus. Bauer (1934) first suggested the centrality of the Christian community of Rome. Today, it seems appropriate to assign to this community a significant impact, but not the overwhelming sway that Bauer implied. The Marcionites – Marcion made the earliest and most radical attempt to sever the link between the Gentile followers of Jesus and the Jewish faction. Contrary to the Pauline complex and often ambivalent reject-butappropriate approach to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers, Marcion advocated a complete and radical rejection of any affiliation with their legacy613 and strived for a thorough de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus. Marcion’s ecclesiastical organization lasted for several centuries and had an extensive network of affiliated communities. His views were so successful, that several Church Fathers wrote treatises against him including Tertullian who, in the early third century, wrote five volumes dedicated to refuting him. Marcion was an enthusiastic and literalist champion of Paul. He understood himself to be ‘the’ true interpreter of Paul’s legacy. Most modern scholars acknowledge the contribution of Marcion to orthodoxy (by creating one of the templates against which it defined itself). By creating the first canon, centered on a revised version of Paul’s Epistles and Luke, Marcion prompted and necessitated the Pauline move toward theological selfdefinition. Marcion was born and raised in Sinope, a port on the Black Sea, in the province of Pontus in Asia Minor (Epiphanius, Panarion 42.1.3). Although scholars differ on Marcion’s dates, we can place his ministry in the first half of the second century.614 Marcion was a merchant who gained great influence through his wealth and charismatic personality. He transferred his ministry to Asia Minor, where he became very popular, after being expelled from Rome. By severing the link between Gentile believers and the Jewish faction, Marcion rejected the Pauline wish to appropriate the legitimacy inherent in standing on Hebrew Scripture and lore. Marcion’s rejection of 273 the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers was complete and unqualified615 and, per his opponents, was also derogatory. To Marcion the Jewish god was unpredictable and prone to wrath (Marc. 2.16, 20, 23). His rejection of the Jewish ‘baggage’ of the founding fathers, whether intrinsic to his worldview or directed at fending off the protoorthodox attacks against him,616 could have reduced the rancor, resentment, and ambivalence that accompanied the reject-but-appropriate trajectory of the Paulines. A clean rejection of the beliefs and traditions of the founding faction also liberated the Marcionites from frequent charges leveled against the Paulines and their theological descendants. Most notably, that they claimed the Jewish heritage but failed to follow through.617 Marcion’s outlook did not need the framework of the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’s death’ either. That event was ultimately the responsibility of the creator and of the principalities and powers working under him (Marc. 3.24; 5.6). Moreover, the Jewish rejection of Jesus was reasonable since he was an alien and extraordinary figure who did not fit Jewish messianic expectations (Marc. 3, 6).618 Unencumbered by the intricate and ambivalent theological fine threading characteristic of the Pauline drive for compromise, Marcion’s radical solution was attractive to many Gentiles and became a formidable obstacle to the proto-orthodox push for ascendancy. Marcion the most prominent Docetic619 theologian, incorporated some Gnostic themes and motifs, but seems to have stopped short of seeing creation as evil and corrupt.620 Paul´s undermining of the importance of Torah observance by Gentiles ignited a debate among Gentile believers that culminated in Marcion, who concluded that the Jewish Bible was no longer relevant. The Marcionite Jesus was a new and unprecedented figure who made known a previously unknown deity of love and mercy—in sharp contrast with the God of the ‘Old Testament’ that was viewed by Marcion as a lesser deity, lacking in wisdom and justice. Marcion addressed the quandary of the relationship of the new faith to Judaism, and the question of the origins of evil and suffering in one bold move: his belief in two deities. This Gnostic element allowed Marcion to see YHWH as a renegade creator of this evil world, and to embrace Jesus as the son of the supreme and benevolent God of the universe.621 By providing an alternative to the Jewish 274 narrative of the founders, Marcionite and Gnostic believers framed the arena within which the compromise creed, the Pauline Via Media, was to emerge. Gnostic Believers in Jesus - Gnosticism, a controversial designation, is a later term that surfaced to identify a variety of syncretic spiritual trends that flourished during the first centuries of the Common Era (Hermetica, Valentians, Mandaeans, and Manichaeans). The merit and the relevancy of the term have been criticized. However, an alternative term has not emerged.622 Gnostic believers posited a transcendental, immutable, and unengaged deity. In most Gnostic systems, despair and hopelessness are pronounced and permanent. The world is the creation of a lesser and evil God (the Jewish God). The world is permeated by evil and there is no hope for change. Salvation from this world is through secret knowledge taught by a divine savior (Jesus) and understood only by few, the elect. Various Gnostic schools evolved from the ‘Gnostic Fathers’ Ptolomey, Cerinthus, and Valentius. Although clear Gnostic inclinations surface among Gentile believers during the second century, proto-Gnosticism predates that emergence and seems to have been part of the first Jewish century milieu that impacted early belief in Jesus. Gnostic forms of belief in Jesus became one of the important secondcentury expressions of belief in Jesus, competing with the founding faction and with the Paulines and the Marcionites for the future of the Jesus movement.623 The origins of Gnosticism are shrouded in mystery and are hotly contested.624 ‘The most influential current view is that Gnosticism arose among sectarian Jews on the outskirts of Judaism.’625 Gnostic believers in Jesus are a phenomenon of second century belief in Jesus that is grounded in, and emerges out of, first century debates. Gnostic cosmogony is an intriguing alternative to the Jewish mainstream view of creation as the work of a benevolent deity. From Jewish sectarians who may have been its originators, Gnosticism may have derived the world as a battleground between dualistic forces (good and evil, soul and flesh, sin and righteousness, light and darkness). All humans have a divine spark within. The divine spark within is to be freed by the redeemer-savior (Jesus) who provides secret knowledge that inculcates transcendental awareness, selfknowledge, and provides a path to escape suffering (the return of the soul to its heavenly home). 275 According to Irenaeus, the Gnostic mission to the Gentiles originated with Simon Magnus (Acts 8) and Menander, both from Samaria (north of Judea). Magnus was a charismatic figure with messianic aspirations. The Gnostic view of Judaism is mostly negative but does not yield the resentmentambivalence inherent in the proto-orthodox appropriate-delegitimize pathway. Whereas outright rejection does not create an emotional residue, the impulse behind appropriation and supersession-replacement does. Interestingly, Gnosticism seems to have fomented two radically opposing extremes: libertinism and asceticism. The Gnostic library found at Nag Hammadi (1945) has been credited with deepening the conceptual revolution initiated by Bauer. Thanks to the findings at Nag Hammadi, the magnitude of the sectarian and polemical bias of the Pauline apologists has been confirmed by direct sources.626 For the first time, non-Pauline second-century Gentile forms of belief in Jesus emerged from the darkness and scholars were able to study these early believers in Jesus unmediated by their opponents. Secret knowledge and selfknowledge are main focuses of these texts, emphasizing the abyss between the proto-orthodox and the Gnostic worldviews. Gnostic theological speculation and metaphorical imagery had great influence among many early thinkers and theologians with mystical inclinations, some of which attempted to harmonize the Pauline and the Gnostic strands, in vain.627 Twelve- and thirteen-century Gnostics (Albigensians-Cathars, and Spanish Kabbalists) as well as many modern esoteric strands resonate with Gnostic imagery, motifs, and themes. Significantly, the Nag Hammadi findings included the Gospels of Mary, the Savior, Thomas, Truth, and Phillip—none of which are devoted to Jesus’s life story. In the Apocryphon of John, probably the most philosophical and edifying of all Gnostic treatises, Jesus is not mentioned at all. Gentile Sympathizers with the Founding Fathers – In most of the canonical and authoritative texts, the identity of the author’s antagonists is, more often than not, implicit rather than explicit. This peculiarity may be due to the fact that most of these texts were written with specific audiences 276 in mind, and the audience knew the identity of the adversaries. Often, the enemy was within. The ‘enemy within’ would be those members of Gentile communities that were drawn to the descendants of Jesus’s first followers or to Gentile, but non-proto-orthodox, interpretations of Jesus’s ministry. Among Gentile Judaizers, commitment, affinity, and affiliation with the Jewish faction varied greatly. Some among them may have converted to Judaism. Most seem to have embraced some of the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers of the movement but did not convert. These Judaizing Gentile believers in Jesus drew some of the most bitter fire from Pauline leaders and literati, who were enraged by their attraction to the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founders. Moreover, it is possible that most Gentile believers in Jesus did not distinguish between different types of ‘Jews’ (the Jewish followers of Jesus, Jewish sectarians, Gentiles attracted to Judaism, the Jewish rank and file, the authentic Jewish religious leadership, and the Roman-appointed traitors who ruled Judea). Furthermore, lack of clear identifiers for these various protagonists and the recurring use of the multivalent terms ‘Ioudaioi,’ ‘Jew,’ and ‘Christian’ by the sources and by theologians, clergy, and scholars throughout the centuries - have contributed to the difficulties in deciphering, and discussing, this period.628 The emergence of the Via Media+ In the canonical and authoritative texts, we have a unique window into the birth of a religion, including the fascinating ‘push and shove’ of theology in the making. With the passage of time, the factions consolidated, the debates sharpened, the arguments became clearer and better defined, and the demarcations among these factions became more visible. As Gentile believers in Jesus elaborated on Jesus’s life and death, and as they gradually transformed these accounts into a mature and non-Jewish religious outlook the protagonists of the second century started to emerge. These non-Jewish factions evolved through a process of confrontational dialectic vis- à -vis the Jewish faction and among themselves. Whereas the original followers of Jesus were (and seem to have remained) Jews, and therefore had an established religious worldview and lifestyle, the newer (non-Jewish) strands of belief in Jesus had to create a theological and creedal grounding to stand on. 277 It is important to internalize the fact that the ‘anti-Jewish’ universe that we have encountered emerged out of one of three fronts that the Pauline faction did maintain throughout their crusade for ascendancy and unity (against the Jewish faction and against Marcionite and Gnostic believers). Further corroboration about the internal setting of the rhetoric against ‘the Jews’ is to be found in the existence of two sets of ‘apologies’ by Justin and by Tertullian (each having written two ‘apologies,’ one against ‘the Jews,’ the other against Marcion) reflecting the fact that the Pauline confrontation with the descendants of the Jewish founders paralleled and mirrored their confrontation with the Marcionites – and confirming the internal nature of the crisis. Indeed, in Tertullian’s works the same charges are often laid against either antagonist, with only minimal adaptation.629 Fighting on these three fronts engendered a highly nuanced, and somewhat inconsistent, orthodox position regarding a number of issues. When debating Gnostics, Paulines claimed that the Jewish scriptures are to be read literally. When debating the descendants of the founding fathers or their Gentile sympathizers, they claimed that the Jewish scriptures are to be read figuratively-allegorically. When confronting Gnostics and Marcionites, they insisted on the supremacy of the Jewish God and on the importance the Jewish heritage. When confronting the Jewish faction, they emphasized the divinity of Jesus and the rejection of Jewish beliefs and traditions.630 A detailed analysis of the table below brings to the surface the fact that the ‘Via Media,’ the creed that emerged from the struggle about identity, legitimacy, and ascendancy within the Jesus movement - was a compromise, as highlighted in the table below: 278 The emergence of the Pauline compromise Jewish Followers of Jesus Pauline compromise Marcionite Believers in Jesus Gnostic Believers in Jesus Jewish God Severe/just Benevolent Renegade vengeful creator of evil world Jewish bible Sacred scripture Appropriate Reject/disregard Bad/disregard Jewish law Keep Supersede Disregard Disregard Number of gods One One/trinity Two Several Attitude to Jewish people Positive Ambivalent Negative Ambivalent negative Purpose of belief Serve God by keeping the law Individual salvation Individual salvation Release from evil world Road to salvation By faithfulness to God’s law By faith alone By faith alone The nature of creation Good Good Ambivalent Bad The cause of suffering Not keeping the law Human sin Human sin Cosmic flaw Human nature Ambivalent Sinful Sinful Divine spark within The chosen people Jews Jews originally Christians now Christians All that receive secret knowledge By secret knowledge 279 Throughout several centuries the pendulum swung inconclusively. Despite the difficulty of bringing about and gaining the ascendancy with a compromise creed - the Paulines were eventually successful in gaining the upper hand. However, since a compromise required appropriating elements of the identity and of the heritage of the Jewish faction into the compromise creed, the Pauline identity markers were drawn inside Jewish territory. This claim to Jewish ground placed them on a collision course with the Jewish faction and would have caused frictions and intense antagonism within the Jesus movement. The forging of orthodoxy out of the matrix of the second century is also unique in that the emerging creed was not the original belief system of the victorious party. Rather, the theology of the victorious party (the Pauline strand) was a compromise between contending theologies and was crafted and promoted as reflecting a middle ground – a ‘Via Media.’ As we move forward through this momentous and tumultuous period, we need to keep in mind that although we can see crucial changes taking place, the participants were unaware of the nature, eventual scope, impact, and direction of the processes they were living through. John Gager, comparing Paul’s time to Jerome’s, concluded that in both periods, and in between, the issue was the same—the legitimacy of orthodoxy. For whenever believers argued, in the name of the founding apostles, that Christianity could not claim to be the New Israel without also being Torah observant, the selfunderstanding of those who represented mainstream-orthodox Christianity must have seemed threatened.631 Although the assimilation of the textual heritage of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers by Gentile believers may have started as early as Matthew, this process was gradual and was not uniform (nor homogeneous) within the Pauline camp. The texts ahead of us represent variations and attestations of this evolution. They provide us some insight into how the sequence appropriation-supersession632 may have been ignited and enabled. 280 Militancy and exclusivism+ We have noted that the rise of the Pauline faction to ascendency lasted at least three hundred years. This protracted struggle reflects the fact that, until the fourth century, they did not have the tools, nor the legitimacy, to impose their theological outlook and eradicate the traditions of their opponents. During the intermediate period, they had to limit themselves to the low efficiency and slow impact of verbal abuse, marginalizing, and disenfranchisement. This limited arsenal, and the slow pace inherent in consolidating a theological compromise, led to a protracted and inconclusive struggle where tempers often flared, and resentment often reached the point of explosion. [+pg 194] Lacking legitimacy to attain ascendancy within the Jesus movement, first and second century Paulines deployed a peculiar mixture of militancy, exclusivism, ‘negative campaigning,’ coalition building, compromise, and accommodation. This seemingly counterintuitive ‘militant compromise’ was successful in infusing the grassroots with enthusiasm and fervor, while creating an accommodating theological narrative. The Mysteries By crafting a compromise between contending interpretations of Jesus’ ministry and legacy, Pauline theology emerged all inclusive, but ambivalent and burdened by the paradoxes inherent in holding the middle ground between contrary theological positions 37: Jesus thus became fully human (the Jewish followers of Jesus) and fully divine (Marcion and Gnostics). The beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founders were to be observed (the Jewish followers of Jesus) and rejected (Marcion and Gnostics). God is one (the Jewish followers of Jesus) but also plural (Marcion and Gnostics). The Law was to be observed (the Jewish followers of Jesus) but depleted (Marcion and Gnostics). The Jews were God’s chosen (the Jewish followers of Jesus) but no longer (Marcion and Gnostics). Although these dualistic pairs help us internalize the implications of ‘compromise building,’ they do not fully clarify the complex and profound theological dilemmas they engender. We may showcase the complexity of theological compromise-building by probing into a couple of theological challenges: 281 To the descendants of the Jewish founders Jesus was an exalted human. Some Gnostic believers believed that Jesus was fully divine (Docetists). Other Gnostics believed that he was human but had a divine spark within and divine knowledge about how to free the soul from this evil world. Marcionites thought that Jesus was the emissary of the supreme God of the universe and that YHWH was the creator of this evil world of pain and suffering. Still others thought that Jesus was born a human but had been chosen by God to be his son—his chosen (Adoptionists). The Via Media compromise: Jesus as both human and divine. The proto-orthodox theological compromise is also reflected in attitudes toward suffering and evil. In biblical Judaism YHWH is a warrior God, a just, severe, and wrathful deity. Evil and suffering are part of reality. For the Gnostics, the world is a place of evil and suffering. Salvation is the escape from it. For Marcion evil was the child of the lesser God of creation, a quasiGnostic view. The God of the Paulines, on the other hand, was to be benevolent, omnipotent, and omniscient. Thus, if God and his creation are good, evil and suffering must originate elsewhere. To exonerate God from the evil and suffering evident in this world, human sinfulness had to be made into the root cause of all that had turned wrong. This theological compromise by the Pauline faction necessitated the internalizing of evil and suffering as individual guilt and sin. Thus, some of the Christian ‘mysteries and paradoxes’ appear to be the result of the attempts to absorb the theological variety that existed during the second century into a compromise creed. By maintaining elements of the theology of the contending factions, the forgers of ‘orthodoxy,’ created an appealing (although tension-ridden) theological compromise. This forging process embedded tensions and dissonances in the tradition. Centuries of theological work were required to craft harmonizing formulas that would accommodate the diverse components of the Via Media. 282 Ignatius Introduction The Adversaries Summary Introduction+ Ignatius was the bishop of Antioch, the hub of Roman Syria, at the dawn of the second century.633 It is speculated that Jewish followers of Jesus that fled to safety during the events that followed Stephen’s death (Acts 6:13–14) founded the community at Antioch. According to Acts, it was in Antioch that some of them first began to preach to Hellenized Jews and later to Pagans, evidently with considerable success (Acts 11:19–21). It was in Antioch that followers of Christ were first called ‘Christians’ (Acts 11:26). Eusebius instructs us that Ignatius was the third Bishop of Antioch, following Peter and Evodius, apparently the first Gentile to rise to this position. Ignatius’s episcopate, whose background and affinities were not Jewish, was a triumph for the Gentiles in the Antiochene community634- a community that would have been initially Law-observant. His ascent to the episcopate, probably during the first decade of the second century, would reflect Paul’s evangelizing success and the demographic shift to a Gentile majority. It would have occurred in the face of opposition from the founding faction and their Gentile sympathizers.635 For Ignatius, the first non-Jewish bishop of Antioch, Christianity (Pauline belief in Jesus) and Judaism (the Jewish followers of Jesus) had already parted (Magn. 8:1; 10:3; Phld. 6:1). Ignatius claims that his strand of belief in Jesus (‘Christianity’) should be the foundational faith, not the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. Although the decline of the Jewish followers of Jesus as 283 the acknowledged guardians of Jesus’ legacy was a reality by the mid second century, the influence of the Jewish followers of Jesus was never fully eradicated.636 Ignatius emphasized Jesus’s death and resurrection (not his life and ministry), advocated unity, church authority and hierarchy,637 and strove for the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus638—a cluster of themes associated with the Pauline faction. Insistence on unity and hierarchy, an Ignatian maxim, became characteristic of the emerging Pauline strand.639 Ignatius, free from Paul’s complicated relationship with the ‘Pillars’ and from any emotional connection with Judaism, articulates a more overt and unequivocal negative tone toward the character, traditions and beliefs of the founding fathers. Tradition has praised the figure of Ignatius as exemplary of true faith and religious certitude under the threat of martyrdom. Most scholars consider his letters genuine. Ignatius’s letters are the foundational rock of ‘Imitatio Christi,’ a devotional inclination to praise and seek suffering and martyrdom. Ignatius invites martyrdom, welcomes death, requests fellow believers in Rome not to intercede on his behalf (Rom. 2), and argues that martyrdom allows believers to attain unity with God (2.1– 2). In Romans 4, he predicts and welcomes his death by wild beasts during the games at Rome providing us with one of the most graphic, yet exalted, depictions of this cruel form of martyrdom. Ignatius’s journey to martyrdom is odd in that it is cast, in the letters assigned to him, as a triumphant journey from Antioch to Rome (Eph. 21.2). Per the traditional account (while in prison) Ignatius was able to write highly crafted letters at will (to Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, Philadelphian, Smyrna, and Rome), to receive and address delegations of fellow bishops (Eph. 1; Mag. 2; Trail. 1), and to address local audiences (Phld. 7.1). Ignatius’s composure while awaiting martyrdom is astonishing, inhumane. The almost regal atmosphere does not fit the known viciousness of the Roman prison system, nor does it fit the journey of a convict through the brutal pipeline that supplied victims for the spectacles at the Roman capital. The staging fits a promotional tour by a religious celebrity. The leisurely and almost regal 284 transit of Ignatius through the cities of Asia Minor defies what we know about the inhumane conditions of the Roman penal apparatus. This leads me to speculate that the letters were composed (or heavily edited) by a supporter or admirer, rather than by Ignatius himself. [+pg 198] The Adversaries Throughout his letters, Ignatius champions the Pauline tenets against those insisting that true faith must be affiliated with the traditions and customs of the Jewish founding fathers, and against Docetic believers who rejected the humanity of Christ. Ignatius may be the earliest author to clearly reflect the imminent second century ‘religious civil war’ among differing believers in Jesus. In Ignatius, similar to Barnabas and Hebrews, adversaries are marginalized and disenfranchised by inserting the duality us/them and by ‘labeling them out’ of the reference group. The adversaries are not explicitly identified, but they cast their presence over the scene. The descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers are being marginalized but remain an ever-present shadow. As Paul, Hebrews, and Barnabas confronted the influence of the founding faction among Gentile believers, so did Ignatius of Antioch, decades later. Following an already established tradition, Ignatius does not target the descendants of the founding fathers explicitly. Rather, his arrows are aimed at their influence among their Gentile sympathizers. The immediate offenders are Gentile members of the community who are embracing Jewish ways (i.e., the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish faction). A group of scholars (Strecker, Gager, Gaston, J. Sanders, Wilson, Murray, and others) has done pioneering work that supports the recognition that Ignatius, and some of his contemporaries, were concerned with the influence, and the attraction, that ‘Judaism’ exerted over some Gentile converts. These scholars contend that anti-Jewish polemic reflects the response of ecclesiastical leaders to attraction to Judaism and to adherence to Jewish customs by certain Gentiles within their own communities.640 Their analysis emerges from the meta-narrative that places emphasis on the conflict with, or attraction to, Judaism. I suggest throughout that some Gentiles would be attracted to the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers due to the fact that they were the original, and therefore 285 authoritative, guardians of his legacy (not on account of an attraction Judaism).641 Attraction to Judaism should be viewed as the outcome, not the cause, of this trajectory—creating a shift of emphasis and perspective. We can assume a variety of Gentile sympathizers that ranges from those who yearned for fellowship with the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, to some who eventually converted to Judaism. In Wilson’s words: [W]hom Ignatius had in mind when, with grudging approval, he spoke of ‘the circumcised expounding Christianity’ is unclear; but whether they were the early disciples, Paul, or Jewish Christians active in his day, they serve mainly as a rhetorical contrast to those who were the immediate and pressing problem—Gentiles who expounded Judaism.642 Wilson’s articulation of the context seems to indicate that the attraction to Judaism was the core issue at stake, an analysis I disagree with. To me, for the most part, attraction to Judaism was a consequence of the Gentile yearning for recognition as rightful followers of Jesus and for fellowship with the Jewish followers of Jesus. Judaizing behavior was a natural consequence of the fact that the founding fathers were Jewish, and should not be seen as reflective of attraction to Judaism per se. To most scholars, the segment ‘For if we continue to live until now according to Judaism we confess that we have not received grace’ (Magn. 8: l) is a reflection of the ‘conflict between Judaism and Christianity.’ To me, it reflects Ignatius’ opposition to the influence of opponents within the Jesus movement, who were Jewish. The Letter to the Philadelphians – In the Letter to the Philadelphians Ignatius’s opponents are Gentile believers in Jesus with varying degrees of affiliations and affinities with the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. The danger that he warns against comes from within the Jesus movement—not from without. In an enigmatic segment, a ‘mind-twister,’ we seem to have two gradations of adversaries, one identified as worse than the other: 286 But if any one propound Judaism unto you, hear him not: for it is better to hear Christianity from a man who is circumcised than Judaism from one uncircumcised. (Phld. 6:1)643 My deconstruction: First and foremost: ‘But if any one propound Judaism unto you, hear him not’ If anyone promotes Judaism to you, do not listen to him. Second: ‘for it is better to hear Christianity from a man who is circumcised’ For, it is better to hear about belief in Jesus from a Jewish follower of Jesus Third: ‘than Judaism from one uncircumcised.’ Than to hear Gentiles advocate Judaism. In other words, Ignatius is fighting the influence of the descendants of the Jewish founders over the Gentile rank and file by rejecting proselytizing by Gentiles who are promoting Torah observance or Judaizing behavior among fellow Gentiles. He seems to recognize (grudgingly) the existence and the legitimacy of the Jewish faction but rejects Gentiles who sympathize with them. In another cryptic segment, Ignatius rebuts those who require that belief be grounded in Jewish scripture (‘the charter’): For I heard certain persons saying, If I find it not in the charters, I believe it not in the Gospel. And when I said to them, It is written, they answered me That is the question. But as for me, my charter is Jesus Christ, the inviolable charter is His cross and His death and His resurrection, and faith through Him... (Phld. 8.2; same theme in 9:1)644 My interpretation: ‘For I heard certain persons saying, what I do not find in the ‘Hebrew Scriptures,’ (The charters) I believe it not in the Gospel. And when I said to them, It is written (in the Hebrew Scriptures), they answered me That is the question.’ In other words, some believers in Jesus will believe Ignatius’ 287 strand of belief in Jesus, only if it grounded in the scriptures of the Jewish faction (the charters). Ignatius reassures them that it is so. Ignatius’s position is that his interpretation of belief in Jesus (belief in Christ’s death and resurrection) stands on ‘the charters’ (The Hebrew Scriptures). The interlocutors’ reply: ‘that is the question.’ i.e. it is yet to be proven. It has been suggested that the attempt by some Gentile believers in Jesus ‘to be both Christians and Jews’ was the heart of the matter. Thus, per J. Sanders, Gentile believers ‘felt that the Jewish Christians should give up their Jewish ways.’645 It is also possible that Gentile sympathizers with the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, who transgressed the boundaries between church and synagogue and sometimes defected permanently, blurred the distinction between the parties, causing confusion and a crisis of identity.646 The Letter to the Magnesians - Ignatius’s zeal causes him to overreach and make seemingly bizarre and incoherent statements: It is absurd to talk Jesus Christ and to practice Judaism. After all, Judaism believed in Christianity, not Christianity in Judaism (Mag. 10.3). In ‘It is absurd to talk Jesus Christ and to practice Judaism.’ Ignatius rejects the authority of the founding faction, and their claim that belief in Jesus should be grounded in Judaism. It seems that in the second sentence Ignatius attempted (ineptly) an early articulation of a claim put forward by future Paulines throughout the centuries. Namely, that the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founders (‘Judaism’) were replaced and superseded by Ignatius’ version of belief in Jesus (‘Christianity’), and that the main purpose of Jewish history and lore was to anticipate and announce the advent of the Pauline interpretation of Jesus ministry.647 That seems to be the intent behind the seemingly incoherent argument ‘After all, Judaism believed in Christianity, not Christianity in Judaism.’648 288 In Magnesians Ignatius targets those living according to Judaism (8.1–2), berates the practice of ‘Sabbatizing’ (9. 1) and refers to the ‘monstrosity’ of those who ‘talk of Jesus Christ’ and Judaize (10.3). Despite the difficulty in decoding Ignatius’s rhetoric, he seems to address Gentile believers who would understand the implied message: Pauline believers in Jesus are God’s New chosen. The Jewish faction, and Judaism, are no longer God’s people. On the other hand, in Trallians, Smyrnaeans, and Ephesians Ignatius battles adversaries that are Docetists649- highlighting the fact that Ignatius was fighting non-Pauline believers within the Jesus movement, and points to the internal focus of his concerns. Ignatius, like Justin and Tertullian, is engaged in a debate about Judaism, not in a debate with Judaism. Overall, Ignatius letters seem to corroborate our suspicion that his targets are Jews within the Jesus movement (not Judaism).650 Ignatius – Summary+ The unity of the church, on which Ignatius harps so much, is seen as an essential link in what we may call the chain of ontological validation.651 Ignatius left all other forms of belief in Jesus outside the periphery of inclusion and made them into heretics. This protective barrier stood firm for almost two thousand years and is the precursor of Eusebius’s later myth about the Christian origins. Ignatius’s relentless insistence on unity and hierarchy is the clearest indication that they did not exist, that they were a goal to be achieved—not a reality. From Ignatius forward, the early church and its legitimacy depend on validating the hierarchical structure that claimed to originate in Jesus and flow through his disciples to the church.652 With Ignatius, the Pauline drive to demote the Jewish faction enters its overt phase. For Ignatius and his followers, the struggle over legitimacy, identity, and authority is a struggle between ‘Christianity’ and ‘Judaism,’ that is, between the Gentile followers of Paul and the Jewish followers of Jesus. With Ignatius, the Pauline campaign against the Jewish faction enters its explicit phase and thereby creates the danger of a future projection onto normative Judaism. Although for Ignatius and for his followers the struggle for legitimacy, identity and authority is clearly between Paul's Gentile followers and Jesus' Jewish followers – his choice of words, his frame of 289 reference, is a clear example of how a non-existent struggle between "Christianity" and "Judaism" was engendered - creating the basis for the projection and transference of the Judeo-Gentile crisis within the Jesus movement to the inter-religious arena. In Ignatius, we can clearly see how a non-existent dispute with Judaism came into being by the projection of an internal dispute over Judaism, onto normative Judaism. [+pg 202] 290 Justin The Dialogue with Trypho the Jew Appropriation and Supersession The Adversaries My Justin Justin was born, ca. 100 ce, of Pagan parents in Flavia Neapolis (Shechem) in Samaria. It seems that he was converted at Ephesus. He founded a school in Rome during the reign of Antoninus Pius, who ruled from 138 to 161.653 He was a contemporary of Marcion and his best-known opponent. After an extended and active ministry, Justin was tortured and executed under the Roman prefect Junius Rusticus (162–168). The Dialogue with Trypho the Jew The Dialogue teaches us that during the mid-second century, the debate about Judaism and about allegiance to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers was still center stage. Even though Paul is never mentioned or quoted, Justin clearly stands within the ‘Pauline’ tradition. However, compared to Paul and Ignatius, Justin is reluctantly tolerant toward Gentiles not committed to the Pauline understanding of Jesus’s legacy. The debate about Justin’s audience will not subside any time soon. Most modern scholars allow for various possible target audiences and purposes. A number of possible constituencies have been championed. The intended audience seems to be Gentiles who, Justin fears, may succumb to the lure of the Jewish faction. Justin is aware that some Gentile believers were so attached to the descendants of the founding fathers that they did eventually abandon ‘their faith in Christ.’ Some Gentiles strayed beyond the limits of the Pauline 291 community altogether. These individuals could not ‘in any way be saved’ (47.4) and ‘succumbed’ completely to ‘Jewish’ ways. Various groups have been recognized as either antagonists or intended audiences in the Dialogue:654 1. Jewish followers who insisted that Gentile believers maintain Jewish traditions. 2. Jewish followers (perhaps from the previous group) who refused fellowship with Gentile believers in Jesus.655 3. Jewish followers who did not fully observe the Torah but were not fully Pauline either. 4. Gentiles, who became believers in Jesus, began observing the law, eventually converted to Judaism, and became Jewish followers of Jesus. 5. Gentile believers who observed some of the Torah (i.e., Christian Judaizers) but did not convert to Judaism. 6. Gentile Pauline believers in Jesus, apparently the majority in Justin’s audience. Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho the Jew does not ‘stand-alone’ and should be read and understood in the broader context of Justin’s context, ministry and literary work. Despite the fact that the Dialogue seems to be cast as a debate with Judaism, Justin’s dominance over the ‘debate,’ the bias in favor of the author’s views, the weak arguments allowed to Thrypo, its obvious function as a rhetorical ploy, Justin’s other apologetic treatises, and the nuanced depictions of followers of Jesus enumerated above do not favor a scenario where the dominant element could be an inter-religious (Jewish versus Christian) debate. Like Ignatius, Tertullian, and Chrysostom, Justin fought ‘heresy’ on multiple fronts. He wrote against Marcion and against the influence of the Jewish 292 faction suggesting that he saw himself holding the middle ground between these two interpretations of Jesus’s legacy, that the context was internal, and that he was not concerned about the influence of external Judaism. Rather than a dialogue with Judaism, the text seems to address a more immediate, existential, and internal concern: the sway that the founding fathers exerted over many among the rank and file. The Dialogue is a vehicle to battle ‘Judaism within.’ Furthermore, it seems to me that Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho the Jew is too adversarial, derogatory and rudimentary in Jewish matters to address an audience that would include Jewish followers of Jesus or Jews—as claimed by many.656 Although Justin is sufficiently informed about Judaism to present a credible case to a non-Jewish (and therefore less versed in Jewish lore) audience - his knowledge and arguments are too simplistic and stereotypical to be effective on a Jewish one. The Dialogue is a debate between a Pauline and a stereotypical and docile Jew who ‘stands in’ as a proxy for the Jewish faction. Justin is unique in the literature of the period in that he provides explicit evidence on the Pauline struggle with the Jewish faction (Dial. 47:2–3). Justin is also unique in acknowledging the existence of a range, and a variety, of attitudes toward the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish founders. It seems that Justin viewed Gentile believers, who observed Jewish customs, as misguided rather than as apostates (Dial. 47:2–4). That is, he considers them as ill-advised members of the church but members nonetheless and deems them worthy of being saved (Dial. 47:4).657 Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction are personified in the Dialogue by Trypho’s friends. They are described as ‘those wishing to become proselytes’ (23:3) and ‘the fearers of God’ (10:4). Of the defectors, he says vaguely that they abandoned their ‘Christian’ commitment ‘for some reason or another.’658 Later Paulines framed Justin’s struggle as a debate between ‘Judaism and Christianity.’ However, for Justin (as corroborated by his work against Marcion) the debate is within the Jesus movement and ‘Judaism’ stands for the beliefs and traditions of the descendants of the founding fathers. Similarly, ‘Christianity’ stands for his interpretation of Jesus’s legacy. By Justin’s time this framing of the issues, already embryonic in the Synoptics, 293 seems to have become a persistent tradition: Paulines were true Christians, other believers in Jesus were misguided at best. Appropriation and Supersession+ It seems that initially, Paul and his early Gentile followers longed to be recognized as legitimate believers in Jesus despite rejecting the observance of central traditions associated with Jesus and with his early followers. Gradually, the frustration engendered by the non-realization of this yearning seems to have led second and third generation Paulines to demand the exclusive guardianship of Jesus’ legacy, requiring substantial appropriationincorporation of the identity and of the religious heritage of Jesus' Jewish followers. These Pauline scholars and community leaders concluded that they should affirm that Gentile believers should not reject the religious narrative of the Jewish founders (as argued by Marcion and most of the Gnostics) nor create a mode of belief in Jesus divorced from the Jewish religious narrative altogether. Hebrews and Justin are the first protoorthodox authors who try to articulate and systematically argue a strategy that would navigate these difficulties and complexities. Although we do not find explicit links between Justin’s work and Paul’s writings, his thinking is clearly Pauline and it did become a cornerstone of the emerging Pauline orthodoxy and the apological effort associated with it.659 As it relates to the Jewish facet of Justin’s interests, many of the themes that will populate anti-Jewish denunciations throughout later centuries are laid down in Justin’s Dialogue:660 For the circumcision according to the flesh, that was from Abraham, was given for a sign, that you should be separated from the other nations and us, and that you alone should suffer the things you are rightly suffering now, and that your lands should be desolate and your cities burned with fire, and that foreigners should eat up the fruits before your face, and none of you go up unto Jerusalem. (Dial. 16:2) …If we did not know the reason why it all was enjoined even on you, namely, due to the 294 fact of your transgressions and hardness of heart. (Dial. 18:2) …He charged you too to abstain from certain foods, in order that even in your eating and drinking you may have God before your eyes, since you are prone and apt to depart from the knowledge of him. (Dial. 20:1) For if before Abraham there was no need of circumcision, and before Moses none of keeping the Sabbath, and of festivals, and of offerings, neither in like manner is there any need now, after the Son of God, Jesus Christ. (Dial. 23:3) Per tradition and current scholarship, Justin’s Dialogue is one of the earliest explicit and systematic deployments of the arguments for the replacement of ‘Judaism’ (the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers) by ‘Christianity’ (Pauline belief in Jesus) in a format accessible to all.661 We have encountered earlier supersessionists (Barnabas and Hebrews) whose arguments resonate with Justin’s, but he fashioned the first accessible argumentation of substance. ‘The law, explains Justin, has no permanent value, but was given by God as a temporary measure to restrain the sinfulness of the Jews… the fact that this law was inferior and is now obsolete reflects badly, not on the God who decreed it of old, but on the people for whom it was decreed.’662 In other words, according to Justin, the Law, Torah observance, and Judaism, the rocks on which the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers stand, are no rocks at all. [+pg 204] The Adversaries The unique role that the descendants of the founding fathers and their Gentile sympathizers (Gentile Judaizers) played in this saga has been recently re-discovered and re-cognized. Murray identified663 in Justin four different types of believers in Jesus (of both Jewish and Gentile origin) who follow ‘the Law’: a. Jewish Christians who followed the Law and live with Christians trying to convince them ‘either to receive circumcision like 295 themselves, or to keep Sabbath, or to observe other things of the same kind’ are to be accepted (Dial. 47:2). b. Jewish Christians who believe in Christ but ‘in every way compel those who are of Gentile birth and believe on this Christ to live in accordance with the law appointed by Moses or choose not to have communion with them who have such a life in common’ are not accepted (Dial. 47:3). c. Gentile Christians ‘who follow their advice and live under the law, as well as keep their profession in the Christ of God will, perhaps be saved’ (Dial. 47:4). d. Former Gentile Christians who ‘once professed and recognized’ Jesus as Messiah but ‘for some cause or other passed over into the life under the Law’ and deny Jesus ‘cannot, I declare, in any wise be saved’ (Dial. 47:4) Given the Pauline hegemony over the narrative, a literal reading of the text of the Dialogue yields that the intended adversary was ‘Judaism,’ and that Gentile believers in Jesus were attracted to, or influenced by, it. However, for those seeking brotherhood and affiliation with the Jewish followers of Jesus, the synagogues of the Jewish faction (where Jesus would be exalted) would be a more obvious and emphatic choice for worship and fellowship than regular synagogues (where Jesus believers in Jesus would be rejected). Therefore, given that the argument that ‘missionary competition between [non-Christian] Jews and Christians over Gentiles was an important context for the Dialogue cannot be convincingly demonstrated from the text…’664 nor from the context of authorship, it is plausible to assume that the synagogues and the communities of the Jewish followers of Jesus are the setting where the Judaizing that concerns Justin is advocated and promoted. Justin’s description of, and engagement with, different types and degrees of Gentile affiliations with the Jewish faction is further indication that his concern was Judaism within, not without. Significantly, for Justin, Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish camp are dissidents, and may be saved, but all other Gentile non-proto-orthodox believers (Gnostics and Marcionites) are heretics. Justin’s Dialogue is reflective of his concern to draw Gentile believers from the influence of the Jewish faction. Thus, Justin’s ultimate 296 adversaries seem to be some among the Jewish faction who attract Gentile believers and ‘compel’ them to observe Jewish practices.665 My Justin+ Why would Justin argue with ‘Jews’ whether Jewish customs and traditions should be embraced by Gentile believers in Jesus—unless the Jews in question are the Jewish faction and the core contention is about identity, legitimacy, and ascendancy within the Jesus movement? Traditional scholarship666 asserted that Justin battles Gentiles attracted to Judaism. Traditionally, the texts of this period have been read as reflective of a ‘conflict between Judaism and Christianity.’ I differ. In my view, the later externalization of the conflict obscures the fact that early Pauline believers were battling adversaries who were Jewish, not Judaism without. Justin is concerned about attraction to the descendants to the founding fathers—not attraction to Judaism per se. To me, at the time of authorship, the setting and the socio-theological context seem to reflect an internal dilemma, not a theological rivalry vis- à -vis mainstream Judaism. The yearning for fellowship with the descendants of the founding fathers angered proto-orthodox leaders and intellectuals, prompting them to denigrate their beliefs and traditions, a reaction that has contributed significantly to anti-Jewish attitudes among members of the early Church.667 Justin acknowledges that some Gentiles succumbed to persuasion by the Jewish faction and its Gentile sympathizers, and follow the Jewish law. He accepts these Gentile Judaizers as legitimate members of the ecclesiastical community.668 Justin’s position in this matter makes sense only if the Gentile sympathizers who follow the Jewish law do so within fellowship with the Jewish followers of Jesus. Reading Justin’s Dialogue in isolation tends to overemphasize the Jewish facet of his apologetic efforts on behalf of the emerging Pauline theology. It obscures the fact that Justin and his fellow proto- ‘orthodox’ were engaged in an internal and multilateral confrontation with the descendants of the founding fathers and with differing Gentile believers.669 Justin’s concern 297 with Jewish influences among his flock and with differing Gentile believers resonate with Ignatius’ and Tertullian’s. Justin’s and Tertullian’s apologies against ‘the Jews’ and against Marcion reflect the fact that throughout the first three centuries the Pauline confrontation with the descendants of the Jewish founders paralleled and mirrored confrontations with other differing believers within the Jesus movement—strengthening the internal context advocated here. Justin reflects a turn, a junction, in the ever-growing polemical trajectory whose beginnings we discussed in the previous chapters. As the crusade of the Pauline faction for ascendancy enters into high gear, so does the deJudaizing impetus. During the second century, intense and overt disparagement of the character, traditions and beliefs of the Jewish faction, and of differing Gentile believers, becomes the highway to Pauline ascendancy. The Dialogue ’s plausibility has been discussed at length.670 ‘Justin enjoys the lion’s share of the debate and, enjoying authorial control, he does not wittingly present arguments that would embarrass or disadvantage himself.’671 Compared to what is to come, Justin is relatively civil and urbane. His rejection and belittling of the character, traditions and beliefs of his opponents is persistent and sustained, but compared with his more extreme anti-Jewish ‘peers’ (Hebrews, Barnabas, Melito’s Pascha, Tertullian’s Adversus Judaeos, Chrysostom, etc.) he is in the moderate range of the spectrum.672 Justin, although sophisticated and articulate, fails his title and presents us with a tendentious and condescending document. The Dialogue is best seen as a tendentious conversation where a Gentile audience would feel empowered and a Jewish one would remain unimpressed and unconvinced. Overall, there is nothing in Justin’s Dialogue that requires us to expand its horizon beyond the Jesus movement. 298 299 300 The Post-Canonical Era – Summary+ Attempting to navigate through the first centuries of belief in Jesus is an endeavor fraught with low visibility and unstable ground – a daunting challenge exacerbated by the defenses that protect the bastions of dogma. Loss of memory and loss of context, and the protective walls that surround religious beliefs, conspire to blur our sight. Furthermore, most of the texts that concern us, were not authored with the intent or expectation of their becoming sacred or canonical. With specific agendas and audiences in mind, most seem to have been authored to address specific circumstances. In addition, given that the addressees would know who the intended adversaries were, their identity is most often implied – rather than clearly stated. Furthermore, once we internalize, any think through, the fact that belief in Jesus arose out of an internal struggle among believers with differing ethnic and cultural backgrounds, and dissonant inclinations and affiliations - many otherwise mystifying puzzles, and previously elusive phenomena emerge from the fog and can be studied in light of their original socio-theological context. The first burst of growth of the Jesus movement was impressive. Estimates vary, but most scholars agree that within 250 years of Jesus’s birth 10–15 percent of the population of the Roman Empire was affiliated to one of the second-century strands of belief in Jesus. Unfortunately, we know little about the socio-metrics of these groups. It seems that during the second century the strands that we encountered in the previous century gradually coalesced into proto-factions and then into factions. The degree of doctrinal cohesion of these groups is unknown and may have been minimal. The situation ‘on the ground’ was, most probably, characterized by great fluidity, variety, and instability. As attested by the texts surveyed in this monograph, confusion and chaos were rampant. It appears that local variants and 301 improvisation were the rule. from the mid first century onwards, belief in Jesus was very much a local affair with some degree of coordination among like-minded communities. It seems that the confrontation among these second century Christianities was spearheaded by elites. Theologians and community leaders were the trendsetters in these debates. In a world of 5–10 percent basic literacy, 38 only 1–2 percent of the people could articulate and sustain an intellectual argument. Most were followers with daily and mundane concerns and interests and their allegiance was grounded on local affiliations, on emotional inclinations, and on personal ties. It is probable that the founding faction, having a shared and authoritative tradition, was more literate, cohesive and organized than the other groups. Marcionites, followers of a single leader, would also exhibit considerable unity and uniformity. The variants within Gnosticism are so diverse that the use of the term has been under attack. The Paulines, the fourth faction, were characterized by great flux, anxiety, and confusion. The theological compromise they championed, the ‘Via Media,’ was at the time, a ‘work in progress’ rather than a systematic theological articulation. Following Ignatius, they viewed unity and uniformity (as opposed to division and diversity) as good and necessary. Unity, it was hoped, would weed out some of the more extreme variants and would bring some respectability and acceptance by Roman society. Throughout the ages, great symbolism was attached to the destruction of the Temple. Yet, the last decades of the twentieth century witnessed a shift of interest and emphasis from the traditional focus on the Jewish War and the destruction of the temple (70 CE),673 to the impact of the Bar Kochba revolt (135 CE).674 The Jewish War had great impact on Pauline lore due to the fact that the Gospels, and most of the canonical texts, were authored during the decades between the Jewish War and the Bar Kochba revolt. However, ‘Consideration of the political and social fallout from the two events suggests that the Bar Kochba rebellion was likely to have been more traumatic for Jewish-Christian relations.’675 The view that Roman victory in the Jewish War of 70 CE did little to quell Judean nationalism and that the quest for Judean liberation continued throughout the period preceding the Bar Kochba uprising, is now widely 302 accepted. The initial success of the Bar Kochba revolt was due to the fact that Roman occupation strategy was based on a limited presence of military forces in the provinces, and on stationing the bulk of their forces in the regional capitals. As the insurgents gained the upper hand against the small Roman garrisons stationed in Judea, they misjudged and over-estimated their initial success, igniting a misguided frenzy of nationalistic and messianic fervor. However, once challenged, the Romans inflicted extraordinary devastation upon Judea, to impress upon future challengers the futility of opposition to their might. Bar Kochba, the leader of the revolt, claimed messianic standing and was acknowledged as such by most the population. Justin and Eusebius (260-340 C.E.) cite his messianic status among Jews.676 Rabbi Akiva, the religious leader of the period, appears to have supported Bar Kochba’s messiaship. Bar Cosiba, his disparaging nickname in Jewish sources, was later repudiated as a false messiah due to the decimation brought about by his misguided and failed liberation campaign. From Bar Kochba forward, the Jewish religious establishment intensified its traditional opposition to any attempt to challenge the Roman occupation and to incite messianic fervor. The breakdown in Jewish-Roman relations following the Bar Kochba rebellion seems to have been severe, but brief.677 The decimation of the strongholds of the Jewish followers in Judea during the revolt and the Roman retaliation that followed, may have accelerated the second ‘parting of the ways,’ between the remnant of the Jewish followers of Jewish and the growing Gentile majority. The emphasis is on ‘accelerated’ for there is no doubt that the demographic shift toward a Gentile majority would have led, sooner or later, to a confrontation about legitimacy, ascendancy and identity in the Jesus movement. The appointment of Gentile bishops in Jerusalem and Antioch epitomizes this demographic shift. Anticipating the chapters ahead, we may recapitulate that whereas the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers had a clear identity, doctrine, and theology, the non-Jewish strands entered the socio-theological confrontation within the Jesus movement unprepared and in disarray. Although throughout the second and third centuries, Gentile believers in Jesus will gradually achieve some theological definition and clarity - it may be 303 said that for Gentile believers, identity, doctrine, and theology matured as a by-product of the struggle over legitimacy and ascendancy. As to our focus, the evolution of Jewish-Gentile relations, the period between the second to the fourth century may be described as an intermediate stage when anti-Jewish polemic becomes ingrained in the cultural fabric of Pauline communities and expands to multiple friction points. This is a transitional stage when undifferentiated anti-Jewish attitudes and expressions become prevalent as the result of persistent and increasingly authoritative anti-Judaic rhetoric. During this phase the internal conflict between the founding faction and the growing Gentile majority will be projected and externalized onto the inter-religious arena and will be gradually transformed into a unilateral attack on ‘Judaism.’ The existence of an effort to demote the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers would be theologically embarrassing. A scenario where the estrangement from the descendants of the Jewish founding fathers would be center stage presents grave theological challenges to established truths, cherished for millennia. It is no surprise, therefore, that the traces of this trajectory have been obscured and are neither obvious, nor plain to see. We would expect that the mere existence of these phenomena would barely percolate through the protective membrane of dogma. Precisely the situation we encounter. As far as the reaction of mainstream Judaism is concerned, we can’t say much. It is probable that at some point the arguments presented by Justin and his contemporaries filtered out and reached Jewish non-believers in Jesus. It is also probable that with time, as the polemical frenzy increased, we may speak of the emergence of a ‘conflict between Judaism and Christianity.’ However, that conflict would be a consequence, a projection, of the internal strife within the Jesus movement - not an originating cause, as argued by most. 304 Chapter 6 *Theology Gone Awry Introduction Melito Chrysostom Summary Introduction+ Melito and Chrysostom, cherished and prominent leaders and theologians, wrote the extreme anti-Jewish texts showcased in this chapter. These texts are part of a long list of virulent polemical texts authored by Christian leaders (Tertullian’s Adversus Iudaeos, Eusebius’ Evangelical Demonstration, Aphrahat’s Homilies, and Augustin’s Adversus Iudaeos just to name the better known)678 that facilitated and enabled the transformation of early tensions within the Jesus movement, into systemic anti-Judaism. It is important to internalize the fact that the writings of Melito and Chrysostom, bishops and saints, are not windows into marginal minds, nor the creation of fringe elements within Pauline thinking. Rather, the texts we are about to survey reflect how many, if not most, Pauline religious leaders thought, and preached. From the mid-second century forward, and under an 305 umbrella of sanctified legitimacy, anti-Jewish sentiment became endemic and extreme. It infected large segments of the clergy and laity during a period that will eventually span seventeen hundred years. These writers were the third and more virulent wave in the confrontation within the Jesus movement between the Torah-observant followers of Jesus and the Gentile followers of Paul. These texts did not appear on the scene unannounced; they were ushered-in by the circumstances and by the texts authored during the first century. The gradual polemical turn among Pauline believers becomes unequivocal and overt with the emergence of this new generation of authors. What is, more often than not, implied, embryonic, and veiled in the New Testament – is now explicit and blunt. By the late fourth century, the targets are no longer the adversaries we encountered in the canonical texts (Pharisees, the High Priest, the authorities, the elders or the scribes). Nor are the adversaries targeted by these texts the enigmatic ‘Ioudaioi’ of John or the ‘they/them’ of Hebrews and Barnabas. By Chrysostom’s lifetime (347–407 CE) the projection of the conflict onto Judaism, that become increasingly commonplace during the second and third centuries, had already taken hold of the minds and hearts of believers. 306 Melito Introduction Theology Deicide My Melito Introduction+ Melito, c a. 120–185 ce, lived through the long reign of Emperor Marcus Aurelius (161–180 ce). We have noted that, at the time, the Jesus movement was struggling with multilateral strife and multi-dimensional chaos within. It was also facing growing and intensifying Roman persecution. Eusebius portrays Melito as a Quartodeciman679 ‘who lived entirely in the Holy Spirit’ (Hist. eccl. 5.24). Most of Melito’s writings have been lost, except for a fragment from his Apology, which was addressed to the emperor, and the Peri Pascha680 —authored ca. 170 CE. As a Quatrodeciman, Melito would be suspect of ‘Judaizing,’ inclining him to fight Jewish affinities among his community.681 The traditional assumption that Melito’s attack on ‘Judaism’ forms part of an active conflict between church and synagogue with religious as well as social and political dimensions is firmly entrenched. 682 Melito is clearly and unabashedly part of the third phase of our journey; his attack against Jews and against Judaism is undifferentiated and unrestrained. The Peri Pascha (On Pascha) is an exercise in extreme demagoguery and unrestrained maliciousness embedded in mediocre argumentation and superb literary skills. Regardless of who were the intended adversaries, the language deployed has all the characteristics of later anti-Semitic incitement. Written during the second half of the second century, this text is the most extreme rampage against Jews and against Judaism by a Gentile believer 307 authored during the first two centuries. Melito’s anti-Jewish rampage is widely recognized as the ‘opus maximus’ of pre-Constantine anti-Jewish sentiment. In Melito we find no traces of an awareness of the internal origin of the now sacrosanct hatred. The efforts to explain Melito’s attitudes cover the full spectrum of theological, socio-theological, and social theories. Some scholars have pointed to the lack of evidence for a Jewish presence among Melito’s adversaries.683 Wilson concludes that ‘no distinction is made between leaders and people, or between Palestinian and Diaspora Jews—as in some earlier writings, nor apparently between Jews of the past and the present. The crime is the crime of all Jews, past and present.’684 With Melito we are well into the third phase of the evolution of the anti-Jewish trajectory. Nothing can prepare the reader for the unrelenting denigration and incitement that permeate most of this long homily (105 sections, 804 segments). Reading Melito’s Peri Pascha anticipates, and renders imitative and derivative, the worst anti-Semitic literature of the Middle Ages and of the modern era. However, as we enter our time capsules and travel to the time, and to the circumstances that originated this text, we must acknowledge that we know little about the impact that this text may have had at the time.685 Deicide in the Peri Pascha+ Melito, Bishop of Sardis and a church father, is the first Pauline writer to make an unambiguous accusation of deicide: the murder of God. The notion that ‘the Jews’ past, present, and future are responsible for the death of Jesus is the culmination of the complex trajectory that we have surveyed – of theology gone awry. With Melito we arrive to the final station of the libel about ‘the Jewish responsibility for Jesus’s death,’ which we have been tracking since Mark. Although the inauspicious beginnings of this libelous travesty stretch back to the canonical Passion narratives that originated in pre-Synoptic strands or in Mark’s creative mind - prior to Melito, no one had converted the implied or explicit accusations of responsibility for the death of Jesus into the ‘Jewish responsibility for the death of God.’ For Melito, ‘the Jews’ are culpable of deicide—a grave escalation of earlier viciousness:686 308 72. This one was murdered. And where was he murdered? In the very center of Jerusalem! Why? Because he had healed their lame, and had cleansed their lepers, and had guided their blind with light, and had raised up their dead. For this reason he suffered. Somewhere it has been written in the law and prophets, 73. Why, O Israel did you do this strange injustice? You dishonored the one who had honored you. You held in contempt the one who held you in esteem. You denied the one who publicly acknowledged you. You renounced the one who proclaimed you his own. You killed the one who made you to live. Why did you do this, O Israel? 74. Hast it not been written for your benefit: ‘Do not shed innocent blood lest you die a terrible death’? Nevertheless, Israel admits, I killed the Lord! Why? Because it was necessary for him to die. You have deceived yourself, O Israel, rationalizing thus about the death of the Lord. 75. It was necessary for him to suffer, yes, but not by you; it was necessary for him to be dishonored, but not by you; it was necessary for him to be judged, but not by you; it was necessary for him to be crucified, but not by you, nor by your right hand. 79. [A]nd vinegar, and gall, and a sword, and affliction, and all as though it were for a blood-stained robber. For you brought to him scourges for his body, and the thorns for his head. And you bound those beautiful hands of his, which had formed you from the earth. And that beautiful mouth of his, which had nourished you with life, you filled with gall. And you killed your Lord at the time of the great feast. 309 80. Surely you were filled with gaiety, but he was filled with hunger; you drank wine and ate bread, but he vinegar and gall; you wore a happy smile, but he had a sad countenance; you were full of joy, but he was full of trouble; you sang songs, but he was judged; you issued the command, he was crucified; you danced, he was buried; you lay down on a soft bed, but he in a tomb and coffin. 81. O lawless Israel, why did you commit this extraordinary crime of casting your Lord into new sufferings—your master, the one who formed you, the one who made you, the one who honored you, the one who called you Israel? 92. But you, quite to the contrary, voted against your Lord, whom indeed the nations worshipped, and the uncircumcised admired, and the foreigners glorified, over whom Pilate washed his hands. But as for you— you killed this one at the time of the great feast. 94. Pay attention, all families of the nations, and observe! An extraordinary murder has taken place in the center of Jerusalem, in the city devoted to God’s law, in the city of the Hebrews, in the city of the prophets, in the city thought of as just. And who has been murdered? And who is the murderer? I am ashamed to give the answer, but give it I must. For if this murder had taken place at night, or if he had been slain in a desert place, it would be well to keep silent; but it was in the middle of the main street, even in the center of the city, while all were looking on, that the unjust murder of this just person took place. 96. The one who hung the earth in space, is himself hanged; the one who fixed the heavens in place, is himself impaled; the one who firmly fixed all things, is himself firmly fixed to the tree. The Lord is insulted, 310 God has been murdered, the King of Israel has been destroyed by the right hand of Israel. 97. O frightful murder! O unheard of injustice! The Lord is disfigured and he is not deemed worthy of a cloak for his naked body, so that he might not be seen exposed. For this reason the stars turned and fled, and the day grew quite dark, in order to hide the naked person hanging on the tree, darkening not the body of the Lord, but the eyes of men. 99. Why was it like this, O Israel? You did not tremble for the Lord. You did not fear for the Lord. You did not lament for the Lord, yet you lamented for your firstborn. You did not tear your garments at the crucifixion of the Lord, yet you tore your garments for your own who were murdered. You forsook the Lord; you were not found by him. You dashed the Lord to the ground; you, too, were dashed to the ground, and lie quite dead. Theology+ For Melito, once ‘Christianity’ (i.e., Pauline belief in Jesus) emerged, ‘Judaism’ (i.e., the beliefs of the descendants of the founding fathers) lost its value; it no longer served a function.687 For Melito, as expressed in the Peri Pascha, God loved only ‘Christians’ (Pauline believers); the church now has the honored position that once had belonged to ‘the Jews,’ the descendants of the Jewish founders.688 Melito’s claim to the Jewish heritage and his emphasis on the culpability of ‘the Jews,’ places him within the Pauline strand, the doctrinal trajectory that includes (among others) Paul, Mark, Luke/Acts, Hebrews, Ignatius, Justin, Irenaeus, Tertullian and Eusebius. After we express our astonishment and disgust at the writings of this second-century bishop, we must ask ourselves: since Melito is an example of a large literary corpus of vicious anti-Jewish literature, do we know and understand the circumstances that would explain the emergence of this kind of texts? What was the socio-theological and emotional context within which this type of incitement would be part of the 311 religious services of a community of believers? Can we imagine circumstances when a religious leader would read this kind of text to ‘edify’ his flock?689 What was happening in this writer’s world that would induce him to author this extraordinary text? Melito’s assertive and unequivocal claims about Jewish collective responsibility for the murder of God are indefensible and theologically abhorrent.690 However, despite the nausea that accompanies reading Melito, we must ‘bend backwards’ and try to decipher the genesis of this genre of texts. Despite the emerging edifice of hate that we witness, and notwithstanding the heart’s turmoil, we must analyze the socio-theological setting that gave rise to this type of literature – and to do so cautiously. My Melito+ It is possible that by Melito’s time, the distinction between Judaism and the descendants of the founding fathers had already faded. The fusion and the confusion of these two groups in the hearts and minds of Pauline believers may have already become deeply rooted and entrenched. Although at the time of authorship the socio-theological background and the context do not yet support attacks on ‘external Judaism,’ we are clearly crossing over into the inter-religious arena. In the Peri Pascha, the bias against the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and their Gentile sympathizers is fully externalized and projected onto ‘the Jews.’ It is unclear whether this blurring of identities, which has accompanied us throughout, is intentional and conscious; an attempt to veil the theologically embarrassing demotion of the descendants of the founding fathers, or due to loss of historical context. The Peri Pascha showcases how the transition from internal invective against Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement to attacks on Judaism came about: deep resentment toward adversaries that were Jewish gradually morphed into vicious attacks on Jews and Judaism. We have witnessed that deep resentment towards adversaries who were Jews and a deep emotional ambivalence and theological dissonance related to the rejection of Jesus' religious beliefs - gradually morphed into a vicious polemic against the Jews and against Judaism. This oversimplification of the complex trajectory that we have explored, highlights an important point: religiously sanctioned 312 incitement can become integral to the cultural and emotional fabric of a community of faith and can, in certain circumstances, morph into ethnic cleansing or genocide. It seems that we have enough corroborative evidence to suggest that by the end of the second century unrestrained anti-Jewish incitement was increasingly dispensed from pulpits throughout the empire. However, Melito could not have written his On the Pascha without standing on preexisting traditions. Melito’s excesses are the fruits of the Pauline ploy to rejectdenigrate but appropriate-incorporate, the fruits of the anti-Jewish strand. Some scholars have argued that Melito’s oratorical success may have blurred his judgment, that his language skills facilitated contrasts and denunciations that were bolder than he might otherwise have created. Nonetheless, we cannot but see a pattern: Melito was part of a sequence of connectable dots. Slowly, gradually, an unintended journey is moving toward its final destination. 313 Chrysostom Introduction The Sermons The Context My Chrysostom Introduction+ In the Christian tradition, John of Antioch (347–407 CE), archbishop of Constantinople and known as ‘Chrysostom,’691 is venerated as a saint who was driven from the patriarchate by the evil scheming of the empress Eudoxia and the plots of Theophilus, the patriarch of Alexandria. His courage in the face of persecution and abuse, his devotion to his flock, and the nobility of his death quickly caught the imagination of Christians... the reverence bestowed on him as a saint of the church has obscured the memory of his earlier years when he was a presbyter in Antioch. John’s sermons are not only a compendium of many of the themes that emerged in the Christian anti-Jewish phenomenon, but they have also had an enormous influence on later attitudes toward the Jews.692 Chrysostom’s anti-Jewish homilies ‘not only marked an important moment in the Church’s polemics against Judaism, but they seem to have exercised an influence which went far beyond any specific occasion or local situation.’693 John’s popularity as a preacher, his mastery of the Greek language, and his incendiary style account for the fact that his writings have exerted a powerful influence on later believers. 314 The Sermons+ Half-truths, innuendo, abusive and inflammatory language, malicious comparisons, and, in all, excess and exaggeration694 are the hallmarks of Chrysostom’s sermons against Gentile believers who were attracted to the beliefs and traditions of the founding faction. Chrysostom advocates extreme measures to contain the influence of ‘Jewish ways’ among his congregants:695 If one of our brothers hears the rumor that a large number joined in keeping the fast, he will be more inclined to be careless himself; again, if it is one of weak ones who hears the story, he will rush to join the strong of those who have fallen. Even if many have sinned, let us not join with those who rejoice at this or any other evil. If we do, we make a parade of the sinners and say that their name is legion. Rather, let us stop the rumor mongers and keep them from spreading the story. (Jud. 8:4:8)696 Another more terrible sickness beckons and our tongue must be turned to heal a disease which is flourishing in the body of the church... What is this sickness? The festivals of the wretched and miserable Jews which follow one after another in succession—Trumpets, Booths, the Fasts—are about to take place. And many who belong to us and say that they believe in our teaching attend their festivals, and even share in their celebrations and join in their fasts. It is this evil practice I now wish to driven from the church. (Jud. 4.1; 48.844) A favorite ploy was to describe opponents as ravenous wolves surrounding the helpless flock of Christ:697 Again those sorry Jews, most miserable of all men, are about to hold a fast and it is necessary to protect the 315 flock of Christ. As long as a wild beast is not causing trouble, shepherds lie down under an oak tree or a pine to play the flute, allowing the sheep to graze wherever they want. But when they realize wolves are about to attack, they immediately throw down their flute, grab their sling, lay aside the shepherd’s pipe, arm themselves with clubs and stones, and stand before the flock shouting with a loud and booming voice, often driving away the wild beast without casting a stone. So also we, in the days just passed, were frolicking about in the exegesis of the Scriptures as in a meadow not touching on anything contentious due to the fact no one was troubling us. But since today the Jews, more troublesome than any wolves are about to encircle our sheep, it is necessary to arm ourselves for battle so that none of our sheep become prey to wild beasts. (Jud. 4.1; 48.871) The eighth homily on the Judaizers, probably Chrysostom’s anti-Jewish opus maximum, showcases the effort to sever the influence that the descendants of the founding fathers had over some among his congregation: Gone is the fasting of the Jews, or rather, the drunkenness of the Jews. (Jud. 8:1:1) This, in fact, is the special danger of madness: those who suffer from it do not know they are sick. So, too, the Jews are drunk but do not know they are drunk. (Jud. 8:1:4) Indeed, the fasting of the Jews, which is more disgraceful than any drunkenness, is over and gone. (Jud. 8:1:5) ... For those who have just observed the fast have fallen among robbers, the Jews. And the Jews are more savage than any highwaymen; they do greater harm to those who have fallen among them. (Jud. 8:3:10) 316 ... as is the case with circumcision, so, too, the fasting of the Jews drives from heaven the man who observes the fast, even if he has ten thousand other good works to his credit... (Jud. 8:5:5) ... When you see that God is punishing you, do not flee to his enemies, the Jews, so that you may not rouse his anger against you still further... (Jud. 8:5:8) ... Tell me this. When you stand indicted before God’s tribunal, what reason will you be able for considering the Jews’ witchcraft more worthy of your belief than what Christ has said?... (Jud. 8:8:5) ... You profess you are a Christian, but you rush off to their synagogues and beg them to help you. Do not realize how they laugh at you, scoff at you, jeer at you, dishonor you, and reproach you?... (Jud. 8:8:9) ... Suppose you had to suffer incurable ills; suppose you had to die ten thousand deaths. Would it not be much better to endure all that rather than have those abominable people laugh and scoff at you, rather than live with a bad conscience?... (Jud. 8:10:1) Elsewhere: Nothing is more miserable than those who kick against their salvation. When it was required to keep the law, they trampled it under foot; now when the law has been abrogated, they obstinately observe it. What could be more pitiful than people who provoke God’s anger not only by transgressing the law but also by observing the law? This is why the Scripture says, You stiff-necked and 317 uncircumcised in heart; you always fight against the Holy Spirit. (Jud. 1.2; 48.845–846) We must return again to the sick. Do you realize that those who are fasting have dealings with those who shouted, Crucify him! Crucify him!’ and with those who said, His blood be on us and on our children’? If a band of would-be revolutionaries were apprehended and then condemned, would you dare to go to them and talk with them? I certainly don’t think so! Is it not absurd to be zealous about avoiding someone who had sinned against mankind, but to have dealings with those who affronted God? Is it not folly for those who worship the crucified to celebrate festivals with those who crucified him? This is not only stupid— it is sheer madness. (Jud. 1.5; 850)698 John’s rampages are lucid, engaging, and demonstrate great ability, but they aim for the visceral, not for the logical, spiritual, or theological core of his constituency. Chrysostom’s attacks are mostly tactical, not strategic. In other words, they are sophisticated incitement. They aim to inflame by pandering to the lowest instincts. [+pg 220] The Context Called ‘the most horrible and violent denunciations of Judaism to be found in the writings of a Christian theologian,’699 the eight anti-Jewish sermons targeted Gentiles in John’s congregation who worshipped at synagogues. Although the audience would know who are the ‘Jews’ being targeted, Chrysostom does not unequivocally identify ‘the Jews’ who attract his congregants: Jewish non-believers in Jesus, the Jewish followers of Jesus, Gentile sympathizers with Judaism, or Gentile sympathizers with the founding faction.700 Many modern scholars see Gentile sympathizers with Judaism as the focus of John’s ire. There is a wide consensus that supports the identification of 318 the target audience as Gentiles. Besides context, some statements point decisively to their Gentile origin:701 [T]hat we might not shipwreck ourselves by becoming, as it were, proselytes to their law. (3:6) Before we believed in God, our hearts dwelling-place was corrupt and weak, truly a temple built by human hands, due to the fact it was full of idolatry and was the home of demons, for we did whatever was contrary to God. (16:7) ‘If you believe Judaism is true,’ ... ‘why do you trouble the Church?’ (Jud. 4.4; 876). ‘Go into the synagogues,’ says John, ‘and see if the Jews have changed their days of fasting, if they observe the Paschal Feast at the same time we do, whether they have ever taken food on that day?... When have they celebrated the Pascha with us? When have they celebrated the festivals of martyrs with us? When have they shared the day of Epiphany with us?’ (Jud. 4–3; 375–376) In Chrysostom, as elsewhere, Israelite traditions of prophetic chastisement and self-criticism, and the Judean tradition of sectarian anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric, are appropriated to erode the influence of the founding faction. Chrysostom is quite explicit in recognizing that the biblical prophets and authors are being subverted:702 ‘By God’s grace, we made the prophets our warriors against the Jews and routed them. As we return from pursuing out foes, let us look all around to see if any of our brothers have fallen, if the fast has swept some of them off, if any of them have shared in the festival of the Jews...’ (Jud. 8:1:6). 319 Antioch was the largest stronghold of the founding faction outside of Judea. It seems that the synagogues of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers attracted Gentile sympathizers, to the inclusion of some among Chrysostom’s flock.703 John’s ire originates in his rage at congregants who embrace his opponents’ traditions and rituals. Indeed, John’s candor can be enlightening: ‘This is the reason I hate the Jews,’ he says, ‘due to the fact they have the law and the prophets: indeed, I hate them more due to the fact of this than if they did not have them’ (Jud. 6.6; 913). ‘If you admire the Jewish way of life, what do you have in common with us? If the Jewish rites are holy and venerable…’ Also: ‘our way of life must be false’ (Jud. 1.6; 851). The Jewish Scriptures are ‘bait to deceive the simple,’ the Law a ‘snare for the weak’ (Jud. 6.6; 913). ‘Don’t say to me that the Law and the books of the prophets can be found in the synagogue. That is not enough to make the place holy’ (Jud. 1.5; 850). My Chrysostom+ When attempting to decipher what socio-theological context triggered the authorship of John’s incendiary sermons, we face the same questions that we have considered throughout our journey: was it a conflict with Judaism? Was it the attraction of some believers to Judaism? Was it the continuation of the centuries-long effort to de-Judaize belief in Jesus? Was it the attraction of some believers to the authority and legitimacy inherent in the founding fathers? John’s career started in Antioch, a city with a long connection to the Jewish faction and their most important stronghold outside of Judea. We have seen that two centuries earlier Ignatius, bishop of Antioch,704 chastised Gentiles in his community who were attracted to the beliefs and customs of the Jewish faction (Magn. 8.1–2; Phil. 6.1). It is clear from the content and 320 context of John’s sermons that three centuries later the influence of the descendants of the founding fathers among Gentile congregants remained a challenge. During the third and fourth centuries, the declining but still powerful influence of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers705 called into question the truth of the Pauline interpretation of Jesus’ ministry. Chrysostom and the Apostolic Constitutions corroborate that the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers continued to attract rank-and-file Gentiles in Antioch, well through the fourth century - a fact that infuriated John beyond civility.706 From Chrysostom we learn that some members of his congregation saw no problem in participating in services and ceremonies at local synagogues, most probably at the synagogues of the Jewish followers of Jesus (where Jesus was venerated) rather than at ‘regular’ synagogues (where followers of Jesus would be rejected). Chrysostom attempts to draw the line between ‘us’ and ‘them’ but it is obvious that some congregants yearned for fellowship with the founding faction and saw no problem in participating in both forms of worship. I place John’s sermons at the end of the excruciating and protracted ‘religious civil war’ that engulfed the Jesus movement for at least three hundred years. Whether Chrysostom is aiming at Gentile sympathizers with Judaism or with the Jewish faction, there is growing support for the view that his eight anti-Jewish sermons were preached against ‘Judaizers,’ not against external/mainstream Jews.707 Thus, even though Chrysostom’s assault on Jews and on Judaism is extreme, the context seems to be internal; the persistent influence of the Jewish followers of Jesus among his congregants. Thus, a dispute about Judaism was cast, and later misperceived, as a dispute with Judaism. The context is a resentful and vicious debate about Judaism among believers in Jesus, not a conflict with it. In Chrysostom’s resentful, defensive, and abusive homilies the externalization-projection of resentment toward adversaries who were Jews onto all Jews is seemingly complete. The projection of the intra-religious abuse that we encountered in previous texts onto the inter-religious arena is now almost seamless. Overall, there is nothing in Chrysostom’s homilies that necessitates the expansion of his 321 horizon beyond the Jesus movement, and I suspect that the influence of the descendants of the founding fathers is the cause behind his ire: 1. Antioch was an important stronghold of the Jewish faction. Some Gentile believers seem to have remained under its influence despite the Pauline de-Judaizing campaign and would have attended their synagogues (where Jesus was venerated) not ‘mainstream’ synagogues where his messiahship was rejected. 2. John’s resentful complaint about lack of reciprocity (Jud. 4–3; 375– 376) makes sense only if ‘the Jews’ are the descendants of the founding fathers, from whom reciprocity was hoped and desired. 3. Chrysostom deploys against ‘Judaizers’ rhetoric that resonates with the polemic he deployed earlier against ‘Paganizers’ among his congregants - strengthening the argument that the texts reflect an internal struggle against the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish faction (not a struggle with external/mainstream Judaism). Whereas differing Gentile believers in Jesus are redeemable, but Jews and Pagans are not.708 4. Chrysostom’s use of the generic ‘Jews’ to identify Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement resonates with the deployment of the ‘Ioudaioi’ in the Gospel of John, and the deployment of ‘they/them’ in Barnabas and Hebrews. It may also reflect a persistent, intended or unintended, fusion and confusion of Jews within and Jews without the Jesus movement. 5. At the time of authorship, the Pauline-orthodox assault on the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers was a few centuries old and already quasi-sacrosanct. I doubt that Gentiles would be attending synagogue services under this derogatory barrage, unless they were attending the synagogues of the Jewish faction. It is important to internalize the fact that the writings of Melito and Chrysostom, bishops and saints, are not windows into marginal minds. Their writings reflect how many, if not most, Pauline-orthodox religious leaders thought and preached. During his tenure at Constantinople, the epicenter of the Eastern Empire at a time when Rome and the West were beginning the descent into the dark ages, John was second to the Pope in nominal hierarchy but was second to none in religious power and influence. Moreover, Chrysostom’s sermons were popular with the masses and were reflective and representative of a culture of denigration, incitement, and 322 persecution that took hold of the orthodox mindset. With Chrysostom, we have reached the zenith of early anti-Jewish incitement. That said, and due to my concentration on his anti-Jewish ‘contribution,’ we must also acknowledge that Chrysostom’s sermons and concerns encompassed a wideranging spectrum of theological and pastoral issues not discussed here.709 Despite the obvious importance of Chrysostom’s writings, these disturbing sermons have attracted relatively little attention from scholars. Some modern scholars seem to find refuge in stressing that ancients thrived on visceral clashes and often cling to the ‘bad apples syndrome;’ acknowledging the existence of rotten trees while refusing to see the forest. Indeed, ancients could be vicious. However, neither ancient nor turn-of-the-era religious texts were permeated by denigration and vilification of other religious traditions with the intensity and the pervasiveness that we encounter in the lore of the Pauline faction. Nor is the disparaging of other religious traditions as central and as dominant, in any major religious tradition, as it is in that strand. We cannot know with certainty how Western history would have evolved in the absence of the Pauline ascendancy. However, the fact that views like John’s won out is significant for it shaped attitudes and emotions about Judaism.710 Chrysostom’s vicious bias is undistinguishable from later anti-Jewish tractates in either content or intensity. From here onward, and until the early twentieth century, unrestrained anti-Judaism will become prevalent, normative, and sacrosanct. It will consume millions of Christian souls and Jewish lives. When a defenseless minority is the target of a derogatory discourse, the souls that populate the margins of human societies feast on the victims as the eversilent majority looks away. Thankfully, hope and human dignity were preserved by those few brave souls that ventured to deviate from the frenzy. 323 Theology Gone Awry – Summary+ Chrysostom’s concern with Jewish and Pagan influences among his flock resonate with Ignatius’, Justin’s and Tertullian’s apologies against ‘the Jews’ and against Marcion. These texts reflect the fact that throughout the first three centuries the Pauline confrontation with the descendants of the Jewish founders paralleled and mirrored confrontations with other differing believers within the Jesus movement—strengthening the internal context advocated here. Indeed, prior to his ordination to the presbyterate, Chrysostom’s primary intellectual concern was the defense of the ascending Pauline strand of belief in Jesus from Pagan influences among his flock. His sermons against Gentile sympathizers with the descendants of the founding fathers came later, highlighting the internal nature of his concerns. Throughout his career at Antioch Chrysostom unleashed his rage against differing believers in Jesus, whom he does not acknowledge as legitimate Christians. Whereas Melito felt the need to explain the roots of his anti-Judaism. Chrysostom writing a couple of centuries later, dispenses vicious and incendiary rhetoric without the slightest restraint. Most anti-Jewish staples we encounter in the lore originate within the Jesus movement and may be paraphrased as follows: a. ‘You may have been God’s favorites but no longer, we are now the true Israel and God’s chosen.’ b. ‘The Jews forfeited God’s favor due to their sinfulness. You cannot lead the Jesus camp.’ c. ‘The Jews misunderstand and misinterpret the sacred texts. The disciples misunderstood and misinterpreted Jesus’ ministry and legacy.’ 324 d. ‘Jewish beliefs and traditions may have served a purpose for a time but were a mere foreshadowing of the advent of our interpretation of belief in Jesus.’ These are some of the threads that sustain the Pauline edifice of disparagement that paved the way to the ethical dead-end of antisemitism and stands on trendsetters like Melito and Chrysostom. Were it not for the impact it eventually had on the minds and on the hearts of millions of believers, the claim put forward in these texts—that a religious tradition spanning two thousand years is unworthy of its heritage and is incapable of understanding its own inner meaning—could be smiled upon. However, the extraordinary audacity and affront of these claims are opaque to modern believers due to the fact that the challengers were eventually successful and did come to dominate the cultural and theological discourse of the West. Thus, what from a first-century perspective seems outrageous, did eventually become normative and sacrosanct. At first, the reader’s reaction may be to dismiss the more extreme of the post-canonical texts as marginal, as non-representative of the mainstream. However, the texts that concern and outrage us were not authored by marginal or renegade believers. Contrary to modern misperceptions, texts like Melito’s Peri Pascha, Chrysostom’s homilies, and the vast Adversus Judaeos literature that followed,711 were not the product of marginal ‘bad apples,’ nor were they the unfortunate indiscretions of otherwise admirable church leaders. It is crucial to internalize the fact that we have discussed authoritative works authored by individuals who were the acknowledged leaders and trendsetters of their time—venerated by millions, their texts later read and revered throughout Christendom during almost two thousand years. Melito and Chrysostom, the most extreme and strident of them all, were bishops and both were later sanctified. Chrysostom was bishop of Constantinople, second only to the pope in protocol, but at the time, the most powerful ecclesiastical position in Christendom. Melito was the bishop of Sardis, a cultural and economic hub. Melito and Chrysostom, cherished and prominent leaders and theologians, wrote the extreme anti-Jewish texts 325 showcased here. These texts reflect a deep, sustained, and pervasive trend that, with the passage of time, will reach inconceivable scope and intensity. Contrary to earlier authors who are apologetic, in Melito and Chrysostom, anti-Judaism is normative and sacrosanct. Almost three hundred years after Mark’s seemingly inconsequential denigration of the disciples and the embryonic stages of the ‘Jewish responsibility’ motif, we find the beliefs and traditions of those chosen by Jesus to be the guardians of his legacy thoroughly discredited and freely abused. Under the ever-increasing escalation of the anti-Jewish strand, Jews are sinful and quasi-demonic—their lives deemed worthless. By the fourth century, the disparagement of Jews and of Judaism that originated in the drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus reached endemic proportions. The non-canonical texts we have discussed in this chapter are the third stage of a polemical sequence, a pre-anti-Semitic level. Although these texts did become the anchors, enablers, and facilitators of antisemitism, we need to withhold categorizing their authors as anti-Semitic due to the internal context of their writing and the identity of their original intended adversaries. Thus, even though to a literal reader these texts feel anti-Semitic in content and impact, and even though they were written in the context of pervasive denigration of Jewish beliefs and traditions - we must acknowledge that, technically speaking, the writers’ intent was not anti-Semitic. Therefore, and notwithstanding the hearts’ desire and the fact that with these texts the demons of antisemitism entered their last gestational stages, we need to exonerate these writers from anti-Semitic inclinations. Given on narrow technical grounds, this exoneration must stand even though, enhanced by authoritative status, these texts were treasured by anti-Semites throughout the ages. This third level in the ‘edifice of sanctified hatred’ is the gateway into a horrific future. No leap of imagination is required to see continuity between these texts and later antisemitism. Melito and Chrysostom unhinged my emotional floodgates and triggered my darkest emotions, my worst demons. After exposure to these texts, words lose their meaning and cognition disintegrates into profound dismay and 326 rage. From here onward, with few exceptions, anti-Jewish incitement will ravage the souls, hearts, and minds of Gentile believers in Jesus. From here onward, a distinct genre of literature (Adversus Judaeos)712 will disseminate and intensify anti-Jewish sentiment throughout Christendom. At this stage, the transition from conjectural bias to undifferentiated polemic becomes endemic and paves the way to genocidal inclinations. As it concerns Judaism, the Christian fleet enters an era of inconceivable darkness. The age of Christendom’s rise is the darkest age of Judaism. From here onward fullblown anti-Judaism and its worst manifestations are derivative; the fruits of an unintended journey gone awry. 327 328 Chapter 7 *Polemic in The New Testament Introduction Mark Matthew Luke / Acts John Paul Revelation Hebrews 1 Peter Introduction+ Pro-Jewish and anti-Jewish strands have cohabited in the traditions of believers in Jesus from the earliest years and have wrestled since for their minds, hearts, and souls. In the New Testament, we encounter pro and anti-Jewish segments, themes, metaphors, parables, motifs, and theological constructs - with a preponderance of the latter. In the New Testament, the Q and M materials in Matthew713 and the Epistles of James and Jude, are the only explicitly pro-Jewish residues of the Torah observant lore of the early Jesus movement. Outside the New Testament these traditions surface in the Didache, and the Pseudo-Clementine literature.714 Anti-establishment and pro-establishment theologies cohabit the New Testament and the authoritative lore. Simplifying for the sake of clarity, we can say that anti-establishment theologies tend to surface among sectarians and among the marginalized, the poor, the vanquished, and the suffering. Belief in the coming end of times, dualism, retribution, 329 vindication, and God’s eventual just judgment, are commonly attested features of anti-establishment theologies. These are theologies of the poor, the discontent, and the marginalized and tend to tilt toward intense emotions and extreme imagery. On the other hand, pro-establishment theologies tend to adhere to tradition and to ‘things as they are.’ These theologies tend to surface among the mainstream and the content, and tend to tilt toward serene, sublime, and harmonious themes and imagery. In most religious traditions, pro-establishment theologies are generally associated with the mainstream, the fortunate, the successful, the socially connected, and the powerful. These theologies tend to promote the belief that one’s fortune reflects God’s favor, and the truthfulness of one’s beliefs. Sometime during the second half of the first century some Gentile believers in Jesus started to think, perceive, and express themselves in apparent emulation of Jewish anti-establishment sectarians. This rhetoric was not only directed at the Jewish authorities but at the Jewish leadership of Jesus' messianic movement. How this migration of lore and selfperception did take place is one of the great enigmas that accompany the emergence of Gentile forms of belief in Jesus. This question stands center stage in our inquiry and is bountiful in insights on the evolution of belief in Jesus, and on Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement. In the New Testament we find two types of polemic: 1. Segments that contain language that disparages Jews, Judaism, or Jewish beliefs and traditions. The segments selected below include some of the best-known instances of anti-Jewish bias in the New Testament. The lists included later in this chapter are my summary of 233 segments identified by N. Beck as reflective of anti-Jewish textual bias.715 Forty-four segments are redundancies that originate in the Synoptic phenomenon (Matthew and Luke’s use of Mark).716 They do, however, contribute independently to the anti-Jewish impact of the texts. 2. Themes, metaphors, parables, motifs, and theological constructs that disparage Jews, Judaism, or Jewish beliefs 330 and traditions. Divorced from the original context of their authorship (the crisis between the Gentile and Jewish followers of Jesus), enhanced by indirect and subtle narratives, and interpreted to service later agendas, these polemical vehicles often ¨fly under the radar¨ and deliver an anti-Jewish message to the hearts and minds of unsuspecting audiences - predisposing them to become receptive hosts to anti-Jewish narratives. Throughout the centuries, these manifestations have been understood to reflect the existence of a pervasive and endemic anti-Jewish strand in the tradition. This study suggests, however, that Jewish-Christian relations stand on a complex trajectory that originates in Jewish-Gentile relations within the Jesus movement. It suggests that the Jewish-Christian saga originates in a conflict among followers of Jesus with varying degrees of Jewish, Pagan, and Gnostic affinities, affiliations, and inclinations. Therefore, and contrary to traditional interpretations, Judaism, Gnosticism, and Paganism were not participants in this struggle. They were the subjects of a debate, (mostly) among Gentile believers - about what belief in Jesus should be. Thus, Jewish-Christian relations do not emerge out of a conflict between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ The main thrust behind this saga is best characterized as a controversy about Judaism, not as a conflict with Judaism. Jewish-Gentile relations in the Jesus movement and in the New Testament are a complex and multi-layered phenomenon that requires nuanced deciphering and interpretation. The crisis within the Jesus movement included a Judeo-Gentile crisis, and an intra-Gentile crisis. The JudeoGentile crisis in the Jesus movement is reflected in the New Testament and has six main elements that lay fused, confused, and intertwined in the canonical texts (detailed discussion in pgs. 385-9): 1. Polemic by the Jewish followers of Jesus against the Judean establishment. 2. Polemic by Gentile believers against the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement, its beliefs, and traditions. 3. The de-contextualization and subversion, by Pauline believers, of the Judean tradition of self-criticism and prophetic antiestablishment censure of the Hebrew Scriptures. 331 4. Appropriation Theology—The claim that Pauline believers in Jesus replaced the Jewish followers of Jesus and appropriated their identity, traditions and lore. 5. Supersession Theology—The view that Paul’s interpretation of Jesus’s legacy superseded the beliefs and traditions of Jesus and of his first followers. 6. Loss of context, fusion, confusion, misinterpretation, and misrepresentation of these rhetorical layers by later believers, resulting in their projection onto Judaism. This layered and complex origination creates the puzzling collage of polemic that we encounter in the New Testament texts. This complex evolutionary trajectory challenges our ability to understand and discuss the emergence of polemical attitudes among early Gentile believers in Jesus. Throughout the texts we surveyed, these elements did surface, and resurface in a variety of configurations. Intertwined, layered, appropriated, projected, retrojected, subverted, or de-contextualized - they create a rich, layered, and complex textual theological tapestry. The Judeo-Gentile conflict is pre-eminent in the Christian tradition because the Judeo-Gentile relationship was the central axis in the evolution of belief in Jesus. Whereas the Judeo-Gentile crisis originated during the decades of New Testament authorship, the conflicts between Gentile believers (between Paulines, Marcionites, and Gnostics) arose later, had a marginal impact on the authorship of the New Testament, and thus had less impact on later believers. Throughout this survey, the theological ramifications of these observations did arise, implicitly and explicitly. Furthermore, disputes about Jesus among Jews (was Jesus the Messiah or not), disputes among differing followers of Jesus (was Jesus human, divine, or both), and disputes about what theological narrative should be adopted (Jewish, Pauline, Marcionite or Gnostic) lay fused and intertwined in the authoritative texts. Here are some of the better-known examples of polemic in the New Testament:717 332 You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit that befits repentance, and do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. (Matt. 3:7–10) Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness. So you also outwardly appear righteous to people, but within you are full of hypocrisy and iniquity. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you build the tombs of the prophets and adorn the monuments of the righteous, saying, ‘If we had lived in the days of our fathers, we would not have taken part with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.’ Thus you witness against yourselves, that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets. Fill up, then, the measure of your fathers. You serpents, you brood of vipers, how are you to escape being sentenced to hell? (Matt. 23:27–33) Therefore, I send you prophets and wise men and scribes, some of whom you will kill and crucify, and some of whom you will scourge in your synagogues and persecute from town to town, that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed on earth, from the blood of the innocent Abel to the blood of Zechariah the son of Barachiah, whom you murdered between the sanctuary and the altar. Truly, I say to you, all this will come upon this generation. (Matt. 23:34–36) 333 O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! Behold, your house is forsaken and desolate. (Matt. 23:37–38) Jesus said to them [i.e., the ‘Jews’], ‘If God were your Father, you would love me, for I proceeded and came forth from God; I came not of my own accord, but he sent me. Why do you not understand what I say? It is due to the fact you cannot bear to hear my word. You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, due to the fact there is no truth in him... He who is of God hears the words of God; the reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of God.’ (John 8:42–47) You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did not your fathers persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One, whom you have now betrayed and murdered, you who received the law as delivered by angels and did not keep it. (Acts 7:51–53) And Paul and Barnabas spoke out boldly, saying, ‘It was necessary that the word of God should be spoken first to you. Since you thrust it from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of eternal life, behold, we turn to the Gentiles’ ... and when the Gentiles heard this, they were glad. (Acts 13:46–48) And when [the Jews] opposed and reviled [Paul], he shook out his garments and said to them, ‘Your blood be upon your heads! I am innocent. From now on I will go to the Gentiles.’ (Acts 18:6) 334 So, as [the Jews] disagreed among themselves, they departed, after Paul had made one statement: ‘The Holy Spirit was right in saying to your fathers through Isaiah the prophet: ‘Go to this people, and say, You shall indeed hear but never understand…’ Let it be known to you then that this salvation of God has been sent to the Gentiles; they will listen.’ (Acts 28:25–29) For you, brethren, became imitators of the churches of God in Christ Jesus which are in Judea; for you suffered the same things from your own countrymen as they did from the Jews, who killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets, and drove us out, and displease God and oppose all men by hindering us from speaking to the Gentiles that they may be saved—so as always to fill up the measure of their sins. But God’s wrath has come upon them at last! (1 Thess. 2:14–16) I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich) and the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan. (Rev. 2:9) Behold, I will make those of the synagogue of Satan who say that they are Jews and are not, but lie—behold, I will make them 9come and bow down before your feet, and learn that I have loved you. (Rev. 3:9) Bias in Mark Mark 2:1–12 Mark 2:13–17 Mark 2:18–20 Mark 2:23.28 335 Mark 3:1–6 Mark 3:20–30 Mark 5:21–43 Mark 6:1–6a Mark 7:1–23 Mark 8:11–12 Mark 8:15 Mark 9:14c Mark 10:1–12 Mark 10:17–31 Mark 8:31 Mark 9:31 Mark 10:33–34 Mark 11:12–25 Mark 11:27–33 Mark 12:1–12 Mark 12:13–17 Mark 12:18–27 Mark 12:28–34 Mark 12:35–37a Mark 12:37b–40 Mark 14:2 Mark 14:10–11 Mark 14:43 Mark 14:53–55 Mark 14:64 Mark 15:43 Mark 15:3, 10, 11 Mark 15:8, 11, 15 Mark 15:38 Mark 15:39 Mark 15:29 Mark 15:31, 38, 39 Bias in Matthew Matthew 3:7b–10 Luke 3:7b–9 Matthew 5:11–12 Luke 6:22–23 Matthew 8:10 Luke 7:9; 13:28–29 Matthew 11:16–19 Luke 7:31–35 336 Matthew 11:20–24 Luke 10:12–15 Matthew 12:27–28, 30 Luke 11:19–20, 23 Matthew 12:41 Luke 11:32 Matthew 12:42 Luke 11:31 Matthew 23:37–39 Luke 13:34–35 Matthew 11:12–13 Luke 16:16–17 Matthew 5:18, 11:12–13 Luke 16:16–17 Matthew 15:14b Luke 6:39 Matthew 11:20–24 Luke 10:12–15 Matthew 12:42 Luke 11:31 Matthew 23:37–39 Luke 13:34–35 Matthew 19:28d Luke 22:30b Matthew’s Bias - Material Originating in Mark Matthew 7:29b Mark 1:22c Matthew 8:16–17 Mark 1:32–34 Matthew 9:4 Mark 2:8 Matthew 12:1–8 Mark 2:23–28 Matthew 12:9–14 Mark 3:1–6 Matthew 10:1–16 Mark 6:7; 3:13–19a; 6:8–11 Matthew 16:53–58 Mark 6:1–6a Matthew 15:1–11, 15–20 Mark 7:1–23 Matthew 16:5–12 Mark 8:14–21 Matthew 21:33–46 Mark 12:1–12 Matthew 22:15–22 Mark 12:13–17 Matthew 22:34–40 Mark 12:28–34 Matthew 22:41–46 Mark 12:35–37a Matthew 23:1–12(14) Mark 12:37b-40 Matthew 24:1–51; 10:17–22a; 25:13–15 Mark 13:1–37 Matthew 26:1–5 Mark 14:1–2 Matthew 27:1–2 Mark 15:1 Matthew 27:11–23, 26 Mark 15:2–15 Matthew 27:33–42, 44–56 Mark 15:22–41 Bias in Matthew - His Use of Unidentified Sources Matthew 1:1–17 Matthew 1:18–25 Matthew 3:1–6, 11–12 337 Matthew 3:13–17 Matthew 5:20–22, 27–28, 31–32a, 33–39, 43–44a Matthew 6:1–8, 16–18 Matthew 10:23 Matthew 12:17–21 Matthew 12:34a Matthew 12:45c Matthew 15:12–14a Matthew 16:17–19; 18:18 Matthew 21:31b–32 Matthew 22:1–10 Matthew 23:12, 15–33 Matthew 23:34–36 Matthew 27:24–25 Matthew 27:43 Matthew 27:62–66; 28:4, 11–15 Luke’s Bias - Material Originating in Mark Luke 4:14–30 Mark 1:14–15; 6:1–6a Luke 5:17–26 Mark 2:1–12 Luke 5:27–32 Mark 2:13–17 Luke 5:33–35 Mark 2:18–20 Luke 6:6–11 Mark 3:1–6 Luke 11:14–23 Mark 3:22–30 Luke 8:40–56 Mark 5:21–43 Luke 11:37–41 Mark 7:1–23 Luke 12:1 Mark 8:15 Luke 16:18 Mark 10:1–12 Luke 9:22; 9:44; 18:31b–33 Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:33–34 Luke 13:6–9; 19:45–48; 21:37–38 Mark 11:12–25 Luke 20:1–8 Mark 11:27 Luke 20:9–19 Mark 12:1–12 Luke 20:20–26 Mark 12:13 Luke 20:27–40 Mark 12:18–27 Luke 10:25–28 Mark 12:28–34 Luke 21:5–36; 12:11–12; 12:40; 17:23; 19:12–13 Mark 13:1–37 338 Bias in Luke - Own Material and in Unidentified Sources Luke 1:5–23 Luke 1:26–38 Luke 1:39–45, 56 Luke 1:68–79 Luke 2:8–15 Luke 2:34–35 Luke 2:38 Luke 2:46–47 Luke 7:29–30 Luke 10:29–37 Luke 10:38–40 Luke 11:27–28 Luke 11:42–48, 52 Luke 11:49–51 Luke 11:53–54 Luke 13:10–17 Luke 13:31–33 Luke 14:1–6 Luke 14:7–24 Luke 14:1–32 Bias in Luke - Use of Q Material Luke 3:7b–9 Matthew 3:b–10 Luke 6:22–23 Matthew 5:11–12 Luke 6:26 Luke 7:9 Matthew 8:10 Luke 7:31–35 Matthew 11:16–19 Luke 10:12–15 Matthew 11:20–24 Luke 12:54–56 Matthew 16:2–3 Luke 13:34–35 Matthew 23:37–39 Luke 16:16–17 Matthew 11:12–13; 5:18 Luke 22:1–2 Mark 14:1–2 Luke 7:36–50 Mark 14:3–9 Luke 22:3–6 Mark 14:10–11 Luke 22:47–53 Mark 14:43 Luke 22:54a, 63–65 Mark 14:53, 55–65 339 Luke 23:2–5, 13–25 Mark 15:2–15 Luke 23:33–49 Mark 15:22 Bias in Luke – Material shared with Acts Acts 2:1–47 Acts 3:1–26 Acts 4:1–31 Acts 5:17–42 Acts 6:8–8:3 Acts 9:1–31 Acts 10:1–11 12:1–24 Acts 13:6–12 Acts 13:14–52 Acts 14:1–7 Acts 14:19–20 Acts 15:1–35 Acts 17:1–9 Acts 17:10–14 Acts 17:16–17 Acts 18:4–6 Acts 18:12–17 Acts 18:19–21 Acts 18:28 Acts 19:8–10 Acts 19:11–20 Acts 19:33–34 Acts 20:1–3 Acts 20:17–38 Acts 21:11 Acts 21:27–36 Acts 22:30–23:10 Acts 23:12–35 Acts 24:1–27 Luke 16:14–15 Luke 16:19–31 Luke 17:11–19 Luke 17:20–21 Luke 17:25 Luke 18:9–14 340 Luke 19:3–40 Luke 19:41–44 Luke 23:6–12 Luke 23:27–31 Luke 23:50b–51a Luke 24:6–8 Luke 24:20 Bias in John and the Johannine Epistles John 1:1–18 John 1:19–34 John 1:35–51 John 2:1–11 John 2:13–22 John 3:1–21 John 3:25 John 4:1–3 John 4:4–42 John 5:1–47 John 6:1–71 John 7:1–52 John 7:53–8:11 John 8:12–59 John 9:1–41 John 10:1–21 John 10:22–39 John 11:1–54 John 12:9–11, 17–19 John 12:42–43 John 13:33 John 15:18–25 John 15:18–25 John 16:2 John 18:1–12 John 18:13–23 John 15:28–19:16 Acts 25:1–12 Acts 25:13–22 Acts 25:23–26:32 341 Acts 28:17–28 Bias in Paul Romans 3:20 Romans 9:31 Romans 11:28 2 Corinthians 3:14f Galatians 3:10 Galatians 3:11 Galatians 6:15 Bias in Revelation Revelation 2:9 Revelation 3:9 Bias in Hebrews Hebrews 7:5–12 Hebrews 7:18, 28 Hebrews 8:1–13 Hebrews 10:1 Bias in 1 Peter 1 Peter 2:4–5, 7–8 1 Peter 2:9–10 342 Chapter 8 *Scholarship Introduction+ The pre-Holocaust mindset The post-Holocaust mindset Encountering Judaism anew Afterthoughts Introduction Having engaged extensively the scholarship that relates to the Christian origins and to Jewish-Christian relations (the traditional thesis, the competition thesis of Simon,718 and the thesis suggested in this monograph), this chapter focuses on Christian attitudes towards Jews and towards Judaism. New Testament scholarship on Christian attitudes towards Jews and towards Judaism has undergone a momentous transformation in the last 70 years. The main meta-narratives that have been put forward to explain Christian attitudes towards Judaism may be summarized as follows: Traditional theology: The Jews rejected Jesus and were responsible for his death. They forfeited God’s favor due to their sins and their transgressions. Their fate is their own doing. The Jews forfeited God’s favor. Their suffering is just retribution for their transgressions. The tribulations of the Jews are a sign of their depravity. The tribulations of Christians were seen as the martyrdom of the righteous. Christianity is the ‘New Israel’ and God’s new people. Modern theology: Most modern theologians posit multiple originating causes for the emergence of Christian attitudes toward Judaism. Positioning is nuanced and the relative importance of each element is highly calibrated. 343 Some see first and second century Judaism and Christianity as proselytizing competitors (anti-Jewish attitudes are seen as reflecting the intensity of that struggle), others think that the Pauline aim to sever the attraction to Judaism was the main thrust behind polemical attitudes among early Gentile believers in Jesus. Some emphasize theological incompatibilities as the main originating source for a ‘parting of the ways.’ The pre-Holocaust mindset719+ To showcase the impact that the rhetoric against the Jewish followers of Jesus had on the minds and on the hearts of believers, we will travel to the first half of the twentieth century. By looking into what Christian theologians said at the turn of the 20th century, prior to the emergence of modern theology, we will be able to gauge the impact of seventeen centuries of polemical indoctrination on the minds and souls of believers. In other words, let’s look at the impact (unintended by their authors) that the canonical and authoritative texts have had on attitudes toward Jews and toward Judaism. Until the Holocaust, there were few and mostly inconsequential attempts at an objective portrayal of Judaism. Scholarship and theology were tools in the quest to maintain Christian hegemony.720 According to traditional Christian theology, the centuries between the Babylonian exile (sixth century BCE) and the emergence of Christianity were a period of decadence and decline for Judaism. Per this tendentious narrative, by the turn of the era, Judaism had become externalized and rigid. God had become distant and secondary to ritual, and the prophetic message was forgotten. Judaism was accused of misunderstanding its role and its purpose. Destruction and exile were deemed just punishment. We may speak of polemical attitudes that cast Judaism as a discarded, even corrupt, religious phenomenon - as opposed to spiritual Christianity that overshadowed it and rendered it worthless. As we survey the views of early 20th century Christian theologians and scholars on Jews and Judaism, we will see that seldom do any of the authors 344 refer to Jewish sources. Nor do they seem to be acquainted with them. Pauline dogma was regarded, and internalized, as objective descriptions of the Jewish way of life, and of the Jewish religion. There is no hint of the actual position of The Law (The Torah)721 as man's grateful response to the covenant, as the sanctification of daily life. Ignorance or prejudice, partly attributable to a literalist reading of the Pauline epistles, blinded Christians to Judaism, as Jews know it. Theologians addressed the ‘Jewish problem’ as a question of obstinacy; the consequence of the arbitrary and culpable rejection of Jesus’ ministry, as understood by Pauline believers. These predispositions deflected believers in Jesus from penetrating more deeply into the history of Judaism, into Jewish sources, or into living and enduring Judaism. Forty years ago, writing in the footsteps of G. F. Moore, Charlotte Klein reported on anti-Judaism among Christian theologians.722 Klein’s report was sobering and disheartening. Let’s eavesdrop to what was being taught, and internalized, at seminaries and at theology schools during the decades preceding the holocaust: The Law: ‘This law, which ruled the life of the Jew in an abundance of individual precepts and prohibitions, was no longer understood as God’s living word but had become a rigid, firmly outlined factor.’723 ‘The law as it confronts man in the form of the law of Moses is the way in which man comes to grief in sin. Christ is the end of the law.’724 ‘[Here] lies the difference between two worlds: the world of merit, and the world of grace; the law contrasted with the gospel.’725 ‘In their life encompassed by the law and yet disobedient to the law, they incur the wrath of God which is now 345 hovering above them and will overwhelm them on the day of retribution.’726 Legalistic piety: ‘God’s commandment is used by them |the Jews] for self-exaltation and self-esteem. For them what matters is not God, but their own righteousness.’727 ‘The Law with its precepts could have become for men the occasion for recognizing the absolute will of God. But men have defrauded themselves of this opportunity by their expansion of the precepts into a legal system.’728 ‘we cannot, of course, forget how heavily burdened this piety was with externals, with the most trivial regulations and hairsplitting, with anxieties and doubts about ceremonial, which a tireless ingenuity had made into mountains.’729 ‘Thus it happens that at the sight of the actual state of the leaders of the people and of the great mass of the people itself —at the sight of religion frozen into ritualism, at the sight of superficiality and love of self and the world—Jesus’ message becomes a cry of woe and repentance.’730 ‘Legalistic piety was ‘mere appearance and the desires for which they struggled were exclusively selfish: they were fighting for money and women.’731 ‘The gradual making absolute of ‘the law’ must be looked on as a false track, which led to consequences 346 which led right away from the authentic foundation of faith.’732 ‘Jewish piety ‘became hardened and rigid.’ It attached the greatest importance to ‘forms and externals’ and made no distinction ‘between minor and major matters in the law.’733 ‘As a result of a more or less ‘mechanical adjustment’ to it, the law serves only to ‘alienate man inwardly from God.’ Jesus turns the law into ‘a religious ethic,’ something that the Jews had not been able to do, ‘since they had neither the strength nor the courage to discard ritualism.’734 The loss of God’s favor: ‘There is an undercurrent of hostility to God running right through the history of Israel in the Old Testament from generation to generation. And it was finally concentrated in deadly hatred against him in whom God—who gives everything—pressed hard on Israel.’735 Consequently, after His rejection the Lord of the vineyard would ‘come and destroy the tenants, and give the vineyard to others’ … This sentence … announced … that what the prophets had threatened was now taking place in redemptive history, namely, the covenant people as such were being rejected.’736 From then onward Israel’s political role lies in the fact that ‘the whole Old Testament heritage passes over to the Church and above all in the fact that the completion 347 of the Church involves the conversion of the Old Testament people of God.’737 ‘The Christian revelation on the other hand is eternally young. But, once it is here, those who prepared the way for it have lost any real meaning for their existence. Their tragedy, indeed their guilt, consists in the fact that they do not regard themselves as precursors and consequently are not prepared to be absorbed in the New when the New appears.’738 ‘The Mosaic law was meant to prepare precisely for this righteousness through faith in Christ, so that in this sense Christ is not only the end but also the goal of the Mosaic religion: with Christianity, the latter is abolished and transcended.’739 ‘The descent of the ‘Jews’ from Abraham and also their claim to be children of God would be proved if they were to believe. But they do not believe: they want to kill Jesus and therefore can have neither Abraham nor God as their Father.’ The sins of Israel against Jesus weighed heavily: ‘These are transgressions which touch the covenant relationship itself and which thus render Israel liable to divine penal sanctions.’740 ‘That part of Israel which continues to resist is to be brought back to its senses through the fall from its former exaltation and through all its afflictions. Only because God cannot forget his people … he chastises it harshly and often.’741 For, ‘instead of remaining faithful to the true tradition of the saints of the Old Covenant, [they] ignored the need of divine help and looked for justification only from 348 their own fulfillment of the Law, that is to say, in the final analysis, only from their own human efforts.’742 Moral ruin and sinfulness: ‘Jesus and his disciples lived in daily contact with a system of piety that was built on a rational computation of the relation of man to God, and thereby set itself up over God.’743 ‘Under such a burden it was impossible for a healthy moral life to flourish…. For anyone who took it seriously life was a continual torment … And for anyone who had brought the understanding and manipulation of the law to a fine art, pride and vanity [were] almost unavoidable.’744 ‘but as such, if the observance does not spring from an internal disposition, it is not only worthless appearance, but really spiritually ruinous.’745 ‘The study of the law ‘leads to sanctimoniousness and hardening of the heart; behind formal correctness worldly ambition and cupidity are concealed…. The traditions … often enough are in outright opposition to the law and force on it an interpretation which actually nullifies it.’746 ‘The works of morality were largely set aside; the works of sanctification, fasting, prayer, almsgiving preferred. 349 But nothing was of value unless it was firmly regulated; the important thing was formal exactitude.’747 ‘prayer was reduced to being at the service of vanity’ and was misused ‘as a cover for inward corruption. There was no ‘true piety, only external formalism’; prayer too was ‘chained within a rigid mechanism.’748 ‘They are ‘enemies of God for your sake.’749 ‘What happens now? ‘Israel has ‘fallen’ … it is lying on the ground … And a ‘blinding’ and ‘hardening,’ as promised in Scripture, are fulfilled in Israel, fallen as no other people has fallen…. There is a cover over the rigid Torah and there is a cover over their hard hearts.’750 ‘The Jews’… ‘were bound to be upset by Christ, since he disturbed them in their worldly thoughts and actions … Their uneasiness … grew into hatred against him. They decided to eliminate this disturber who frightened them out of their human way of thinking, and they killed him.’751 The Jews at heart do not seek God ‘but themselves,’ so that, ‘contrary to their own knowledge and striving, they hate God.’752 ‘Hillel’s fine words about ‘loving mankind and bringing them nigh to the Law’ (Abolh 1.12) are merely propaganda… ‘the individualism of Jewish piety culminates in the hope of recompense in the next world.’753 350 ‘the nature of Judaism as a religion of observance finds expression in the incapacity to distinguish the important from the unimportant, in the whole casuistic attitude, and finally in the negative basic orientation’…’All this is linked with a certain lack of subjective truthfulness and sincerity, a striving after externals and appearances.’754 ‘Jesus rejected the self-confident claim of the Jew to his own greatness and showed him the hypocritical contradiction in which he became involved when he attempted to cover up his inward alienation from God by parading his veneration of the law and his fidelity to Scripture.’755 ‘For the Jews, there is no internal link between the good person and the good thing; the action of the hands and the aspirations of the heart fall apart.’756 The cause of Jewish suffering: It is this blindness which 'fills their history with such great self-consciousness, unrest, resentment, and fanaticism. Yet the people of Israel are punished, not only mentally but also corporeally.'757 ‘They rejected Jesus Christ. Consequently, they could no longer be partners in God's covenant with men. By rejecting Christ, they abandoned their own history, the basis of their own existence as God's people. That is the reason why they themselves are rejected (Rom. 0.31-3; 11.7-10)’758 351 ‘…Nor are the sufferings of Jewry—as Jews frequently think—the consequence of the fulfillment of Israel's divine task, through which it has become the object of mankind's hatred; for Judaism has not in fact fulfilled its task. It suffers indeed on account of that task which still faces it, by which... it is marked, which makes it seem like a foreign body in the world: the world for which it was intended to be an example and model, sign and pointer to an existence founded in God, and—by fulfilling its task—a permanent call to decision for God. But Jewry suffers also because it has always failed to seize this task, by understanding it wrongly, refusing to fulfill it, or rejecting it outright, and seeking security instead in the world in its own way.'759 'The Church can never overlook this sorrowful function [of the Jews] which has made its Marks on them. But the Church also, if it takes the gospel seriously, must see in this resistance the obstinacy and guilt which deprive them of salvation.’760 Today’s Jews: 'This therefore is the history of the Jews;' … 'every Jew bears upon him from his fathers the light of God's presence. On every Jew the Marks of God's wrath is imprinted. Over every Jew God holds his breath'761 'This people... is no longer a people, nor can it be a ‘nonpeople’... nor yet can it be absorbed in other peoples... Consequently, it lives abandoned in the desert of the world.... The whole torment of that first stay in the desert is constantly repeated in Israel's history, now however without the grace of the continually new revelation and indeed now only kept together by one thing: the curse by which it is burdened and the hatred 352 and aversion of the nations whose godless instincts make a scapegoat for their own sins shamelessly and brutally out of this alien, unprotected people thrown by God into their midst.’762 'The curse will accompany this people—reduced to a remnant— throughout history and will call down one judgment after another on them, but one day it will come to an end.'763 'The Jews reject him as a scandal to them even in the name of God. We could almost say that a supernatural demonism is exercising its power in the hatred of this people against the true kingdom of God.’764 ‘Israel still lives, but, so to speak, on the lower plane of the promise and the law. But they [Jews today] are different from the Israel of the Old Testament, because they not only did not enter on the plane of fulfillment, but are in opposition to it. Against Christ, they remain attached to the covenant with God eschatologically dissolved by Christ.’765 The quotes above are from the most distinguished theologians from the late eighteenth to the early twentieth century and they reflect a centuries-long frenzy of anti-Judaism that took hold of Christian theology, culture, and popular attitudes. The rhetoric against the Jewish followers of Jesus that emerged, grew and festered in the authoritative lore – introducing the question of a causal connection between these phenomena. 353 The post-Holocaust mindset+ George Foot Moore is widely acknowledged as anticipating the postHolocaust mindset. In ‘Christian Writers on Judaism,’ Moore stated that ‘Christian interest in Jewish literature has always been apologetic or polemic rather than historical.’766 Unfortunately, Moore’s manifesto of 1921 did not resonate with contemporaneous scholars and theologians and it remained an isolated call for change. The most notable exceptions would be James Parkes767 and Travers Herford,768 who anticipated their peers but remained un-influential until the post-WWII era. At the dawn of the twenty first century, the traditional view that sees Antisemitism as the result of the Jewish rejection of Jesus, of the Jewish loss of God’s favor, of a legalistic and morally inferior tradition, and of the responsibility for Jesus’ death769 - is on the defensive. New perspectives have been put forward and are the subject of intense debate. New paradigms have emerged out of an intense and fruitful scrutiny.770 The competitive model - This view of the Jewish/Christian saga argues for the existence of a proselytizing struggle between turn of the era Judaism and early Christianity.771 To a large extent, variants of this model have replaced the traditional view. This ‘conflict’ theory surfaced with Marcel Simon’s Versus Israel, one of the most influential post-Holocaust monographs on the subject. Couched in Darwinism and in ‘marketplace competition,’ Simon’s model sees anti-Judaism as the consequence of excessive militancy by the more aggressive and vigorous proselytizer; the result of hypercompetitiveness gone awry.772 Simon did cast Judaism and Christianity in the roles of competitors for ‘religious market share’ or as ‘religious species’ in an evolutionary struggle for supremacy. By casting a complex phenomenon as a simple metaphor, sanctified hatred was downgraded to ‘negative campaigning’ or to ‘survival of the fittest.’ Despite the deflationary impact of Simon’s views, his neo-triumphalism and his derogatory views on Judaism are indisputable: ‘The poverty of its doctrine, the absence of the mystical element, the burden of ritual observances, all these go a long way to explain why Judaism was not long able to 354 sustain its appeal to the Gentiles in competition with the Christians.’773 Like Harnack, Simon argued that Gentile attraction to Judaism during the first three centuries was the result of active Jewish proselytism - which he perceived to be vigorous and persistent. He maintained that ‘the observance of Jewish ritual by Gentiles implies as its precondition an effort on the part of the dispersed Jews to make themselves felt in the Gentile world.’ Simon further maintained that by the fourth and fifth centuries CE, when Jewish missionaries became less militant, ‘the attractive power of Judaism declined.’774 Despite these observations, and despite the failure to substantiate Simon’s characterization of first century Judaism as an active proselytizer, the competitive-conflict model has fueled the modern misperception of the Jewish-Christian saga as reflective of a struggle over religious supremacy.775 Under this construct, anti-Jewish sentiment is seen by many as the result of heated exchanges between contenders, as the result of excessive zeal and vigor. Simon’s misperception originates in the bondage of mid-century scholarship to the Pauline narrative that negates the natural and plausible attraction of some Gentile believers to the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by the founding fathers of the Jesus movement. The support for Simon’s theory is wide and deep:776 ‘It is now clear that Judaism and Christianity were regular competitors for the religious loyalties of the Gentiles. Literally as well as figuratively, they faced each other in the marketplace’777 Simon’s competitive model did foster the unraveling of the traditional mindset. However, Simon remained anchored in the anti-Jewish mindset, and described the actions and intentions of Jews in ethically loaded terms. Per Simon, in their anxiety to dissociate themselves from the new sect, the Jews, (Simon claims) ‘were not always able to be scrupulous in their choice of methods.’ In their attempt to defend their tradition against Christian 355 preaching, the Jews ‘might sometimes have gone further than they were supposed to do.’ The Jews gave assistance, ‘often in a very active and spiteful way’ to the Pagan persecutors.778 At first, post Holocaust scholarship did embrace the competitive model to explain the impetus for the emergence of polemical attitudes among early Gentile believers. Hoping to explain and mitigate anti-Jewish prejudice, scholars fashioned turn of the era Judaism into a fierce proselytizing competitor. However, Simon’s tendentious descriptions and his casting of first century Judaism as an active and aggressive proselytizer could not be corroborated and collapsed under scholarly scrutiny. Unfortunately, by projecting onto turn of the era Judaism the combative and militant proselytizing zeal that has characterized Paulines since their early days, the ‘competitive model’ has helped deflect painful introspection: the ‘competitive model’ has been a valve through which the urgency to engage the polemical phenomenon has been reduced and diverted. The attraction to Judaism - The attraction of some turn of the era Gentiles and Pagans to Judaism is increasingly viewed by many scholars as fueling the polemical fervor that is embryonic in the canonical lore and permeates the authoritative texts thereafter.779 This emphasis, a nuanced version of the competitive model, has gained momentum during the last decades of the 20th century and seems to be gaining ground against the ‘competitive’ model: ‘the most compelling reason for Christian Antisemitism was the religious vitality of the Jews.’780 ‘Judaism, far from coming to an end, was a real, active and often effective rival and competitor of Christianity.’781 For the most part, the threat that Pauline authors of the first and second centuries attempt to engage is internal; the influence of the descendants of the founding fathers among their congregants. For the most part, the targets of their ‘anti-Jewish’ ire were Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction 356 who favored a greater affinity to the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by the Jewish followers of Jesus. [+pg 253] Encountering Judaism anew Contemporaneous with the models discussed above, a new awareness of Judaism ‘as Jews-know-it’ has started to percolate through the dogmatic membrane that has sustained the Pauline hegemony through the ages. E.P. Sanders’ Paul and Palestinian Judaism is widely recognized as a seminal turning point. For Sanders, Judaism cannot be understood or defined by reading Christian literature against it. Christian scholars, including Weber, Schiirer, Bousset, BillerBeck, and Bultmann, are criticized for anachronistic and tendentious misrepresentations of Judaism. Sanders’ work signaled the rediscovery of ancient Judaism, or rather, its rediscovery by non-Jews. What most Jews have always known about their faith and their traditions is being acknowledged only lately. Sanders argues that Judaism must be understood from within its own context, through its texts, not through the prism of Christian theology: ‘The supposed legalistic Judaism of scholars from Weber to Thyen (and doubtless later) serves a very obvious function. It Acts as the foil against which superior forms of religion are described. It permits, as Neusner has said, the writing of theology as if it were history.’782 Earlier, G. F. Moore had accused Bousset of incompetence in his use of second-hand Jewish sources; that he did not consult the original texts: ‘Bousset also relies on material drawn from the apocalyptic writings, which are not authoritative either for the Judaism of the first century or for the later normative Judaism. As Moore very rightly observes, this is rather like judging Christianity in the light of the apocryphal gospels. The authors have failed in their 357 main concern which was to portray the 'religion of Judaism': it serves merely as background and contrast to the Christian faith so that the latter is made to appear so much more sublime.’783 For Lloyd Gaston, one of the pioneers of the new paradigm, Christian anti-Judaism ‘… arises out of an inner theological debate rather than a rivalry with a living Judaism.’784 ‘It is Paul’s rejection of the Law which most disturbs Jewish interpreters and those who know something of the concept of Torah in Jewish writings. It is not Paul’s invective which disturbs them so much as his ignorance. For anyone that understands Rabbinic Judaism, Paul’s attacks are not merely unfair, they miss the Marks completely. The Rabbis never speak of Torah as the means to salvation, and when they speak of salvation at all, the way of Torah, ‘which is your life’ (Deut 32:47), is that salvation. The ethical earnestness of the Rabbis becomes all the more impassioned because of their belief that the commandments express God’s will for Israel’s good, but they can never in all fairness be called legalists.’785 John Gager on the same subject: ‘…first-century Judaism is regularly described, using Paul as the primary evidence, as a religion of narrow ethnic interests; as a piety, particularly in its Pharisaic and later Rabbinic forms, of dry, legalist religion in which individuals earned their way to salvation (works righteousness); or, alternatively, as a faith of impossible demands (the Law) and harsh judgments (no 358 forgiveness) …’ on every point, Judaism stands in sharp contrast to Christianity.’786 The Torah as a ritual, behavioral and disciplinary pathway that assists individuals and communities to live a life of service to God: ‘Judaism was never a religion of ‘legalism,’ but a religion of revealed commandments which seeks thereby to concretize God’s presence in everyday life. For Judaism, there can be no such antithesis of Law and grace, letter and spirit, for the Torah is itself God’s gift and mediates the presence of the spirit. Since Judaism does not accept the Pauline doctrine of original sin, it believes that people are capable of responding to God out of their natural powers. But this is also due to the fact Judaism does not accept the quasi-Gnostic dualism of ‘nature’ and ‘grace’ that demonizes creation; making grace alien to nature…This Pauline view fatally distorts Judaism’s understanding of the way of the Torah. Judaism is not letter without spirit, but a way of life which knows the unresolved tension of letter and spirit.’787 ‘Faith and works could never be seen as opposites, for each would be meaningless without the other. The law is not felt to be burdensome (when it is, it is modified), and the characteristic phrase is ‘the joy of the commandments.’ Far from being an inducement to sin or the curse of condemnation, the Law is God’s gracious means of helping people to conquer their ‘evil impulse.’788 ‘One could learn simply by studying the discussions about which means of atonement atone for which sins, that the Rabbis believed in the enduring validity of the covenant relationship, that they did not count and weigh merits against demerits (but rather atoned for 359 transgression), and that they believed that God has provided for the salvation of all faithful members of Israel – all those who maintain their place in the covenant by obedience and repentance, for transgression… We conclude, then, that there is a generally prevalent and pervasive pattern of religion to be found in rabbinic literature. The pattern is based on election and atonement for transgressions, it being understood that God gave commandments in connection with the election and that obedience to them, or atonement or repentance for transgression, was expected as the condition for remaining in the covenant community. The best title for this sort of religion is ‘covenantal monism.’789 Among recent readers of Paul, no one has argued more vigorously for a new view of ancient Judaism than E.P. Sanders. Following on the earlier work of George Foote Moore, W.D. Davies, and others, did coin the phrase ‘covenantal monism’ to describe the relationship between redemption and the Law in ancient Judaism. In other words, the covenant with Israel is offered, established, and maintained by God; the Law is Israel’s response, her part of the bargain. Sanders advances this view in contrast to the persistent conception of Judaism as a religion of works-righteousness, (i.e., the notion that Jews thought of themselves as saved by virtue of their obedience to the Law and commandments).790 ‘…If Jesus during his ministry had abrogated the Torah, apparently neither his own disciples nor Paul himself knew. Paul had to argue his case regarding the Gentiles and Torah some twenty years after Jesus' death before Christians in Jerusalem who had known Jesus ‘in the flesh,’ namely, James, Peter, John, and possibly the ‘false brethren’ as well. Neither they nor he evoked a teaching of Jesus to clarify the situation. Further, Paul says repeatedly that the source of his Law-free gospel was not human tradition but his vision of the Risen Christ. It is difficult, then, to sustain the position that Jesus during 360 his lifetime publicly taught against the Torah, and thus that such teachings were a source of mortal conflict between him and his contemporaries.’791 ‘It was simply not true that Jews thought they were saved by deeds or works. The lesson to be learned here is that old prejudices die hard.’792 This critique by theologians and New Testament scholars became increasingly acceptable during the second half of the twentieth century and was accompanied by an increasing rejection of traditional views about Jews and about Judaism. Among those who stood at the forefront of the effort to correct the stereotypical views about Judaism that permeate the tradition: ‘We should observe that the descriptions of Rabbinic Judaism given by Bultmann, Braun, Becker, Jaubert, Black, and Thyen are not simply eccentric examples. What is striking about all these works is that the authors do not feel the need to defend their view of Rabbinic Judaism or even to turn to the sources to verify it. This illustrates that there is a very large community of scholars – not only these authors, but also their reviewers and readers - which is prepared to accept this view of Rabbinic Judaism as the standard view’793 ‘Thus, the general Christian view of Judaism, or some part of it, as a religion of legalistic works-righteousness goes on, unhindered by the fact that it has been sharply – one would have thought, devastatingly – criticized by scholars who have known the material far better than any of its proponents… The Weber/Bousset/BikkerBeck view, as it applies to Tannaitic literature, is based on a massive perversion and misunderstanding of the material.’794 361 ‘Judaism which many see reflected in Paul’s polemics is thus a joyless, hypocritical, nationalistic means of earning salvation by mechanically doing the works of the Torah (Law). The God of the Jews is seen as a remote, gloomy tyrant who lays the burden of the Torah (Law) on people, and their response is twofold: they either become proud and self-righteous hypocrites who are scrupulous about food but ignore justice, or they are plunged into guilt and anxiety, thinking themselves accursed for breaking a single commandment. Schurer speaks of ‘the fearful burden which a spurious legalism had laid upon the shoulders of the people.’795 ‘But the disparagement of the Pharisees continues largely unabated, despite the excellent work of those scholars who, availing themselves of diverse Jewish sources, have argued—one would have thought decisively—against this misrepresentation… The evangelists, reading the post-70 situation of Jewish/Christian debate back into the lifetime of Jesus, presented the Pharisees as his chief opponents; while Luther perceived and modeled the sixteenth-century intra-Christian debate in terms drawn from this late firstcentury conflict. Modern New Testament critics, unwittingly replicating the polemics of both Luther and the evangelists in their own scholarship, thus perpetrate a double anachronism.’796 ‘Christians have consistently described Judaism as essentially legalistic, hypocritical, works-righteous, judgmental, committed to the letter rather than the spirit of faith. Jews are said to be legalistic and worksrighteous if they keep the law, hypocritical if they do not. The church has put them in a no-win situation. By contrast, Christianity is gracious, committed to love and acceptance, and spiritual, everything new and good that Judaism, being old and bad, can never be. Yet legalism, 362 works-righteousness, judgmentalism, and literalism amply characterize the Christianity with which I am familiar.’797 Rethinking anti-Judaism - Judaism’s idiosyncratic beliefs and traditions were a stumbling block for most Gentiles. Thus, for the most part, and acknowledging the existence of a marginal occurrence of Pagan and Gentile attraction to Judaism, the appeal of Judaism among believers in Jesus seems to be associated with the fact that Jesus and his disciples were Jewish – not to the attractiveness of Judaism per se. Therefore, the draw of Judaism would be a consequence of this context and should not be seen as corroborating the existence of a competitive struggle between Judaism and Christianity. The threat that the authors of most of the texts that we have surveyed are reacting against, must be existential. The Judaism that infuriates these authors seems to be within, not without, the Jesus movement. Internal feuds are often characterized by extreme virulence. Gentile believers yearned to be recognized as legitimate followers of Jesus, despite their rejection of the beliefs and traditions espoused be Jesus and his first followers. On the other hand, the founding fathers rejected the many Gentile forms of belief in Jesus that spawned following the missions to the Gentiles. The pain and the resentment caused by the failed fellowship, and subsequent estrangement, between Gentile believers and the founding faction further fueled the fire. Anecdotal evidence for the attraction of individuals to Judaism is insufficient to explain the emotional intensity, the fascination, and the obsession of most Pauline leaders and literati with all things Jewish. It seems to me that, for the most part, the immediate targets of the ‘antiJewish’ ire that we encounter throughout the lore may have been Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction - who favored a greater affinity to the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers. The Jewish faction, the ultimate addressee of most of the Pauline rhetorical arrows, does not seem to have been an active participant in these debates. Self-segregating from adversaries on both fronts (Gentile followers of Jesus and Jewish nonfollowers of Jesus) the descendants of the founding fathers seem to have remained mostly unengaged and uninvolved in the debates among Gentiles. 363 Afterthoughts+ An edifice of sanctified hatred emerged out of emotional and intellectual predispositions that took hold of the minds and souls of believers following prolonged exposure to messages of ambivalence and hatred that were perceived to be sacrosanct, legitimate, sanctioned and justified. These emotions and attitudes epitomize theology gone awry and are incompatible with the modern mindset: ‘…what has proved decisive in the new shift of perspective has been the groundswell of reaction, in New Testament scholarship as in Christian scholarship generally, against the denigration of Judaism which has been such a deeply rooted and longstanding feature of Christian theology.’798 Fortunately, since Klein’s survey, we have witnessed unprecedented and breathtaking change. During the last decades of the 20th century overt antiJudaism receded in academic circles. Benign winds have swept through and have deflated attitudes and sentiment toward Jews and toward Judaism. At the dawn of the twenty-first century overt anti-Judaism is no longer acceptable in theological and scholarly circles. Pre-Holocaust scholarship is, for the most part, too embarrassing even for those harboring residual antiJewish biases. It may be said that although Judeo-phobia has not been eliminated, it is on the defensive. Nonetheless, New Testament scholarship is still deeply embedded in, and dependent on, the orthodox paradigm. In the context of this survey, scholarship’s bondage to the Pauline orthodox worldview and mindset is noteworthy due to its continuing impact on attitudes toward Judaism. In modern scholarship, we see repudiation799 coupled with attempts to de-emphasize the recurrent and systemic nature of the phenomena.800 The many ‘dots’ on the graph are seldom connected into a trajectory or understood as consistent and recurrent. 364 Overall, the attempt to impress upon the rank-and-file the ominous nature of the polemical strand embedded in the New Testament has not been successful. Change in theology and in people’s minds has been, expectedly, difficult to achieve. People’s beliefs, especially those who have opted to selfsegregate from mainstream scholarship, are resilient to change. Leading theologians and scholars of the early 20th century did exacerbate this natural conservatism in religious matters. These include Bousset, Eduard Meyer, Emil Schurer and Starck/BillerBeck, who, despite their embrace of antiJewish attitudes, are still authoritative among many believers and continue to impact large audiences. 365 366 Chapter 9 *Recapitulation Delegitimizing the Disciples Challenging Unassailable Legitimacy Projection onto Judaism About Judaizing An Elusive Jewish Response Evolution of Jewish-Christian Relations Orthodoxies and Sacred Texts What If? Afterthoughts Delegitimizing the Disciples+ The disparaging of the disciples and their traditions in the canonical Gospels and in the authoritative texts is a peculiar and unique deviation from most religious legitimating narratives, where the disciples of the founding leader are usually honored as the legitimate heirs of the founder’s legacy and ministry.801 Why did Paul’s followers engage in this unique and peculiar disparagement and vilification of those chosen by Jesus to be the custodians of his legacy? Why do the canonical Gospels signal to believers that Jesus’s disciples ‘misunderstood’ his ministry and his message, that they abandoned and 367 betrayed him, signaling that their customs, traditions, and beliefs should be rejected? The use of ancestral and authoritative figures and stories to chastise contemporaneous antagonists is widely attested in many ancient cultures. In the Hebrew Scriptures, denigration of the ancestors of one’s adversaries is a clear indication of the agendas driving the texts.802 Judeans disparaged their adversaries’ ancestors (internal803 and external804) and belittled their ancestral traditions by deploying negative metaphors, allegories, and literary proxies. Thus, we may suspect that the criticism of the disciples, Jesus’s alleged alienation from fellow Jews, and the battering of Jewish beliefs and traditions, may reflect the emerging Pauline effort to delegitimize ‘the Jews’ (i.e., the Jewish followers of Jesus) rather than the circumstances of Jesus’s life. To delegitimize the Jewish followers of Jesus through the delegitimization of the disciples perfectly matches the polemical needs of the Pauline faction in the first phase of the Judeo-Gentile crisis within the messianic movement of Jesus. At that time, the Jewish followers of Jesus were the undisputed leaders of the movement and the Paulines would not seek an open confrontation with them. To delegitimize the disciples was a convenient, propitious and eventually successful tactic for such circumstances. Furthermore, we have seen that there are strong reasons to suspect that the anti-Jewish rhetoric that we encounter in the lore seems to emulate, and emerge out of, Judean polemical traditions. This rhetoric seems to target the existential danger confronting the Gentile followers of Paul a couple of generations after Jesus’s death—the draw, the influence, of the descendants of the founding fathers among Gentile believers. Delegitimizing the Disciples – Mark Writing some four decades after the events and alien to Jesus’ cultural, ethnic, and religious heritage, Mark implies that he ‘understands’ what was obscure to those who shared Jesus’s life, ministry, religious background, and ethnicity - those chosen by him to be the custodians of his legacy. Hindsight derived from our knowledge of what was to come, helps us identify the disparagement of Jesus’s disciples and followers as the first salvo in the 368 emerging opposition to the authority and to the legitimacy of the Jewish faction as the exclusive guardians and interpreters of Jesus’s ministry.805 Throughout his gospel, and in line with the ancient tradition of denigrating the ancestors of one’s opponents, Mark disparages the Twelve Apostles, the special Three, and Peter. Peter is the recipient of the lion’s share of Mark’s arrows and seems to be the leader of those who are seen by Mark as his adversaries. The author of Mark suggests that Jesus’s associates and companions, his family, and fellow Jews did not understand his true mission. Therefore, the Markan account is not only about a conflict between Jesus and some Judeans in positions of authority, it also reflects a conflict about identity and legitimacy among believers in Jesus, as seen from a Pauline perspective. By the time of Mark’s writing, Paul’s mission to the Gentiles appears to have met success in attracting Pagan sympathizers and recruits. These new converts must have soon encountered Jewish followers of Jesus or their Gentile sympathizers in the public arena and must have realized that they had joined a beleaguered faction at odds with the founding fathers of the movement they had joined. Thus, Mark’s denigration of the disciples seems to have been crafted to counteract the claim, by some among the descendants of the Jewish founders, that Gentile forms of belief in Jesus were insufficient and lacking. It may have also been crafted to explain and justify, to the rank and file, the rejection of the traditions and beliefs of Jesus and his disciples, and the estrangement from the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. In other words, Mark attempts to reassure the rank and file that they are rightful followers of Jesus despite their rejection of the beliefs and religious traditions espoused by Jesus and by those chosen by him to be the custodians of his legacy. He does so by denigrating the disciples and by casting Jesus as trespassing his ancestral traditions (Sabbath observance, dietary Law, etc...). From Mark forward we encounter in the Pauline texts a crescendo of denigration that shadows the growing tension and the estrangement within 369 the Jesus movement.806 This upsurge of defamation is exemplified by the portrayal of the disciples who: ‘did not understand’ 1 Corinthians 10:25–27; Romans 4:14; Acts 10:15, Mark 6:52; 7:17, 8:17; 9:32; Matthew 13:10–15. ‘will deny Jesus’ Mark 14:30; John 13:36–38; 25:27. ‘fail to keep guard’ Mark 14:32–42; Matthew 6:13; 26:36–46; Luke 11:4; 22:40–46. ‘abandon Jesus’ Mark 14:50; Matthew 26:47–56; Luke 22:47–53. ‘deny Jesus three times’ Mark 14:66–72; Matthew 26:69–75; Luke 23:2–3, 18–25. Although the synoptic phenomenon creates considerable redundancy in this summary, the fact that decades after Mark, Matthew and Luke chose to embrace and intensify Mark’s denigration of the disciples is significant. Delegitimizing the Disciples – John John’s deployment of the multivalent ‘Ioudaioi’ and his intense anti-Ioudaioi rhetoric signal a significant pivot, a turning point. It seems that for the Johannines, the denigration of the disciples that characterized the Synoptics was no longer sufficient. The tensions between the parties had become an open conflict; a confrontation-estrangement-secession. Sharper tools were deemed necessary to sever the sway of the descendants of the founding fathers among John’s audience. Furthermore, when the author(s)/editor(s) of the canonical John criticize or downplay the disciples or Peter (12:16;12:27; 13:23–26; 18:2–11; 18:11; 18:15–16; 19:26–27; 20:2–10; 21:7, 21:20–23) they are justifying to their audience the estrangement from the Jewish founders, not their estrangement from mainstream Jews, to which they would have been indifferent. Delegitimizing the Disciples – Hebrews and Barnabas Whereas Mark seems to imply that Jesus’s messiahship was deliberately hidden, causing the disciples to misunderstand his ministry, Barnabas and Hebrews are the first to insinuate that ‘their’ understanding of Jesus’s life and ministry was erroneous, misguided, and originated in sinful minds. Whereas Mark hints that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers did not understand Jesus’s legacy and abandoned him, Barnabas 370 and Hebrews reach deeper; they claim that the true meaning of the Israelite journey is to be understood and deciphered by non-Jews. Hebrews and Barnabas, roughly contemporaneous with the Synoptics, reflect a more strident and explicit antagonism toward the character, traditions and beliefs of the descendants of Jesus’s first followers. Whereas the Synoptics insinuated and veiled their dissent, in Hebrews and Barnabas we encounter the first stages of a shift to open and undifferentiated attacks deployed to batter the Jewish elite of the Jesus movement. Hebrews’ and Barnabas’ anti-Jewish rhetoric has populated the tradition since and is deeply embedded in the theological discourse and in the lore. In Mark, in the Synoptics that stand on him, and in the Pauline tradition that dominates the canonical and authoritative texts, the people who shared Jesus’s life and ministry as well as his religious and ethnic affiliation ‘do not understand.’ On the other hand, Mark, the Synoptics who stand on him, and the Pauline leaders who follow, that did not share Jesus’s life and ministry, as well as his religious and ethnic affiliation ‘understand.’ It is noteworthy that contrary to the delegitimizing of the disciples that we find in Mark, Luke/Acts and John ¨ Matthew stunningly overhauls Mark's grim portrayal of Jesus' students, unabashedly changing the endings of stories so that instead of being hard hearted, blind, and dumb, they worship Jesus and fully recognize his identity (e.g., 14:28-33; 17:13); Matthew's Jesus even goes so far as to name Peter as the rock on which he will build his church (16:16-18). This is a major validation, over against Mark's dismal portrait of these men, and it completely re-contextualizes those critical comments that Matthew retains. And of course the story ends with the comprehensive redemption of the disciples in the so-called "Great Commission" (28:16-20), where Jesus entrusts his ongoing mission to them. ¨ 807This defense of the disciples is unique in the New Testament and seems to reflect the views of the Jewish followers of Jesus. 371 Challenging Unassailable Legitimacy+ It seems that, for the most part, Jews and Gentiles did not enjoy an amiable fellowship within the Jesus movement. For a while, some among the Jerusalem faction and small numbers of Gentiles may have attempted full fellowship and may have coexisted in an asymmetrical relationship where Gentile believers would have felt marginalized and un-empowered. Furthermore, it appears that most Gentiles found the Jewish milieu of the descendants of the founding fathers alien and yearned for recognition and legitimacy as rightful followers of Jesus—despite their rejection of the beliefs and traditions embraced by the founding fathers. On the other hand, members of the Jewish faction may have remained ambivalent and equivocal about the many forms of Gentile belief in Jesus that surfaced following the missions to the Gentiles, resulting in selfsegregation, estrangement, and mounting tension between the parties. Most Gentile converts seem to have resented the attempt to impose the beliefs and traditions of the founding generation as a requirement for being recognized as legitimate followers of Jesus. These beliefs and traditions, while integral and intrinsic to Jesus and to the descendants of the founders, were alien to most non-Jewish converts and consequently emerged as wedge issues in the drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus. Facing the unassailable legitimacy of those chosen by Jesus to be the guardians of his legacy, intuitively confident of their core arguments - but standing on not fully formed, evolving, and often shifting theological ground - Pauline leaders and intellectuals gradually gravitated to a rhetorical strategy of ancestor denigration that centered on deprecating their opponents’ character, lore, beliefs, traditions, and institutions. Rejecting the beliefs and traditions of a religion’s founders would be a towering task, in any religious tradition. However, by challenging the legitimacy of Jesus’ disciples and by casting them as ‘not understanding,’ ‘denying,’ or ‘abandoning’ Jesus, the Pauline faction successfully bypassed and obscured the theological conundrum of how to explain and justify the rejection of Jesus’ beliefs and traditions, and the estrangement from those chosen by him to be the leaders of the movement.808 372 By shifting the debate away from the weak flank of the Pauline argument (the fact that their adversaries were the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, and therefore the presumptive guardians of his legacy) and by framing the debate around beliefs and traditions that most Gentiles found strange and idiosyncratic, the Pauline faction gradually fashioned a strategy that was eventually victorious and led to growing estrangement between Gentile believers and the founding faction. At first, Paulines could ill afford to state their aims. Therefore, their claims were initially put forward in an implied and veiled manner; their ultimate aims seldom stated overtly. Indeed, throughout this confrontation, and throughout the lore accompanying it, we encounter a persistent reluctance to cast the conflict as a rejection of the beliefs and traditions that grounded Jesus’ ministry. The strategy that won the day had several components: 1- The delegitimizing of the disciples, the biological and theological ancestors of the Jewish followers of Jesus. 2- The appropriation and usurpation of the disciples’ identity and selfperception as the new people of God (the New Israel, God’s new chosen). 3- The subversion of their anti-Jewish-establishment lore and of the Jewish traditions of prophetic exhortation and self-criticism. 4- The rejection and delegitimizing of beliefs and religious traditions espoused by Jesus and by his early followers. By deploying this complex and multifaceted strategy, proto-orthodox leaders and intellectuals waged a protracted and uncertain, but eventually successful, challenge to the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. The struggle over identity, legitimacy, and ascendancy of which the de-Judaizing effort was a central facet - was cast by the later guardians of orthodoxy as a confrontation with ‘the Jews.’ Intended or unintended, conscious or unconscious, this blurring of the identity of the adversaries was self-serving; it allowed the proto-orthodox leadership to erode the status of the descendants of the Jewish founders, to the point that two centuries later the descendants of the founders could be considered marginal and ‘heretical.’ 373 Success, however, came at the cost of embedding in the tradition and in the minds and souls of believers a pervasive anti-Jewish strand. The de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus was also facilitated by the weakening of the Jewish faction caused by the decimation in their ranks during the two failed Judean revolutions. The decimation of the Judean strongholds of the Jewish faction may have created an unexpected vacuum of authority that facilitated the proto-orthodox ascendancy. Projection onto Judaism+ Anti-Jewish sentiment among Pauline believers reaches its zenith in the Apostolic Fathers and in the apologists of the second and third centuries. What in the New Testament was ambivalent, ambiguous, and implied, bursts to the surface in the blunt and undifferentiated polemic that accompanied the second- and third-century religious ‘civil war.’ Great resentment and pain underwrite the texts authored during this period. The extreme anti-Jewish tone of the post-canonical texts is indicative of great emotional and psychological stress, of great anxiety about identity and legitimacy. It appears that multiple stress points (internal dissent, theological confusion, the need to explain and justify the estrangement from the Jewish founding fathers, the rejection of Jesus’ beliefs and traditions, and Roman persecution) did exert a great toll on the proto-orthodox psyche. Even though a literal reading of most of the canonical and authoritative texts seems to indicate that the intended adversary was ‘Judaism’ I suspect that dynamics of projection and externalization are at play. I have suggested throughout that the socio theological context of the Jesus movement at the time seems to preclude Judaism as the intended adversary. Rather, the intended adversaries, the intended audience, and the goals of the anti-Jewish Pauline literature of the second and third centuries seem to be internal. At that time, the abuse of Judaism seems to be aimed at the Jewish followers of Jesus, and the goal was to disqualify them as the authoritative custodians of Jesus’ legacy. Furthermore, during the first three centuries, believers in Jesus were immersed in a fierce internal struggle about self-definition, legitimacy, and identity that makes their engagement of external enemies implausible. Originally, the defamation of Judaism was a means to a goal (the deJudaizing of belief in Jesus and the eradication of the influence of the Jewish 374 followers of Jesus in the Jesus movement). However, as the Paulines gradually emerge ascendant and as they gradually reach minimal internal and theological cohesion, and as the original internal context was lost/obscured the polemic embedded in the lore and in texts (against the Jewish followers of Jesus) was gradually read and internalized as targeting all Jews. Judaism’s idiosyncratic beliefs and traditions were a stumbling block for most Gentiles. For the most part, and acknowledging the existence of a marginal occurrence of Pagan and Gentile attraction to Judaism, the appeal of Judaism among believers in Jesus seems to be associated with the fact that Jesus’ disciples and first followers were Jewish – not to the attractiveness of Judaism per se. Therefore, the draw of Judaism would be a consequence of this particular context and should not be seen as corroborating the existence of a competitive struggle between Judaism and Christianity. Until the Christianization of the empire, the Judaism that infuriates these authors seems to be within, not without, the Jesus movement. However, it seems that by the second century, a gradual fusion and confusion of ‘Jews within’ and ‘Jews without’ had become an ingrained phenomenon, triggering the initial phases of the externalization and projection of anti-Jewish attitudes among some Gentile believers in Jesus onto ‘external-mainstream’ Judaism. Jewish followers of Jesus were often labeled as ‘Jews’ by Gentile opponents within the Jesus movement. Bauer, Kraft and Krodel, Koester, and Hennecke-Schneemelcher-Wilson were the earliest to identify this phenomenon.809 This argument stands even though we should acknowledge the plausibility of circumstances where Jewish-Christian tensions may have surfaced. The pioneering work of Munck (1959), Stendahl (1976), Gager (1985), Gaston (1987), Lieu (1996), Murray (2004), and others has shed new light on the importance of ‘Gentile Judaizers’ (Gentile sympathizers with Judaism) for our understanding of the anti-Jewish bias in the canonical and in the authoritative literature. ‘The conflict between Judaism and Christianity’ and ‘the attraction to Judaism’ that emerge out of this body of scholarship, are among the current favorite narratives deployed to explain the emergence of anti-Jewish attitudes among early Gentile believers in Jesus. I disagree and advocate placing the ‘anti-Jewish’ rhetoric of the first three centuries within 375 the Jesus movement. I do not see a socio-theological basis for a conflict between first-century Judaism and the many Gentile strands of belief in Jesus that surfaced at the time. Furthermore, the texts authored during this period seem to originate in a rather closed universe. Their context, purpose, horizon, and protagonists seem to be inside the Jesus movement. Thus, conflict with external-mainstream Judaism seems to be a later, derivative, and unilateral phenomenon that stands on a complex and multilayered trajectory that seems to originate, mostly, within the Jesus movement. Furthermore, anecdotal evidence for the attraction of individuals to Judaism is insufficient to explain the emotional intensity, the fascination, and the obsession of most early Pauline leaders and literati with all things Jewish. Therefore, attacks on Judaism (distinct from attacks on the character, traditions and beliefs of the Jewish founding fathers) should be considered a later byproduct of issues and tensions within the Jesus movement, a derivative phenomenon. I have posited that since the legitimacy of the Pauline ‘orthodoxy’ could not be based on the acknowledgment of a Gentile adversarial takeover of the Jesus movement, it was necessary to obscure and conceal the demotion of the descendants of the founding fathers. This deletion may have emerged out of the desire to project a consensual transfer of leadership and of legitimacy from Jesus’s disciples and followers to the ascending Pauline ‘orthodoxy.’ From his ecclesiastical ‘history’ and from his apologia to Constantine (Vita Constantini) we can surmise that Eusebius had a strong sense of ‘where the political wind was blowing’ and was keen to cater and ponder to the powerful and the mighty. We do not know whether Eusebius’s deletion of this troubling phase from his ‘Historia Ecclesiastica’ was conscious or reflects an already authoritative tradition that stood on the fusion and confusion of Jews within and Jews without the Jesus movement. Either way, his telling of the origins of the faith (that emphasized ‘Jewish vs. Christian’ tensions) became the foundational myth of the new religion. Eusebius writing, three hundred years after Jesus’s death, solidified the externalization and the transference of the Pauline rhetoric against the Jewish followers of Jesus, onto all Jews. Whether Eusebius was intent on obscuring and misrepresenting the evolution of belief in Jesus or was misinformed, his work enshrined the myth about the evolution of belief in Jesus from unity to diversity and heresy – and the evolution of ‘Christianity’ in opposition to ‘Judaism.’ By concealing the confusion, chaos, and conflict that engulfed the 376 Jesus movement well into the fourth century, Eusebius’s work offered the Pauline victors a comprehensive and seemingly authoritative legitimating account of origins on which the exclusivist, triumphalist, and ascendant orthodoxy stood for the next sixteen hundred years. Whether Eusebius intentionally distorted the evolution of belief in Jesus or was misinformed, his work: affirmed, solidified and consecrated the myth about the evolution of the belief in Jesus from unity to diversity, the myth of the evolution of "Christianity" in opposition to "Judaism," and the myth of a quasiconsensual transition of leadership from the Jewish followers of Jesus to the Pauline leadership. It also concealed the confusion, chaos and conflict that characterized the messianic movement of Jesus until the end of the fourth century. It veiled the rejection of the religious traditions associated with Jesus. The vacuum created by the Eusebian erasure of the campaigns to demote the descendants of the founding fathers and to de-Judaize belief in Jesus thus enabled (and may have necessitated) the later reading of the anti-Jewish sentiment generated during the protracted second-century religious ‘civil war,’ as aimed at all Jews. Hence, after Eusebius, and given his presentation of the genesis of belief in Jesus, the rancorous vitriol against the Jewish faction could not but be read as reflective of a conflict between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ As time passed, Eusebius’s account of belief in Jesus became increasingly authoritative, and the projection of the rhetoric against Jewish followers of Jesus onto ‘external’ Jews became seemingly seamless. The externalization of internal tensions within the Jesus movement onto the intra-religious arena became ‘history.’ Disconnected from their original socio-theological grounding, the emotions and attitudes that accompanied the estrangement between Jews and Gentiles in the Jesus movement - were internalized as reflective of a Jewish-Christian conflict. For the most part, in the canonical and in the authoritative lore, ‘Jews’ and ‘Judaism’ seem to be (often) rhetorical and literary derogatory labels and phantoms—proxies for adversaries within, rather than external adversaries. Gradually, hyperbole against the founding faction, often hidden 377 behind multivalent phantoms (Ioudaioi, they/them, Jews) and mostly indirect and implicit to start with, morphed into endemic anti-Judaism. What's more, until the Pauline faction emerged ascendant, the internal and external circumstances of the Jesus movement do not favor a scenario where the dominant element would be an inter-religious (Jewish versus Christian) conflict. A first stage of self-definition, consolidation, and integration must have taken place before the proto-orthodox would engage enemies beyond the boundaries of the movement. We should not expect a religious movement in the initial stages of identity formation, engulfed in a ‘religious civil war,’ and enduring persecution by the Roman authorities - to engage external enemies gratuitously. Undeniably, during the second and third centuries Gentile believers were not in a position to ‘take-on’ mainstream Judaism. Nor was it their most pressing concern. This was a period during which the energies of believers must have been focused inward. When internal rhetoric (Jewish followers of Jesus chastising establishmentJudaism) migrates from their hearts, minds, and lips to the hearts, minds, and lips of Gentiles, and is used to dehumanize and to disenfranchise Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement, a unique phenomenon and a major shift have taken place. Similar to a virus that mutates and invades a new species, identity takeover is the vehicle through which the ire of Jewish sectarians toward the Jewish mainstream did migrate to Gentile hearts, and became endemic. Lacking the natural protection provided by kinship, the intense and militant vitriol that characterizes sectarian posturing metamorphosed and became undifferentiated polemic. This trajectory, from infighting among Jews - to Gentile incitement against Judaism, has been a core concern of our inquiry. It is noteworthy that polemical internal religious exhortation is attested in many religious traditions. However, when internal resentment against kin is subverted-appropriated by an alien group and resurfaces as an inter-religious derogatory discourse, a qualitative and unprecedented phenomenon has occurred. Outside its original setting, Jewish sectarian anti-establishment rhetoric was transposed to an external environment and became virulent. Scholars and theologians often cite exhortation by biblical prophets and Judean sectarian anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric to mitigate, explain or 378 justify the anti-Jewish deluge that we encounter in the Pauline lore. However, the issue is not whether ‘by the measure of contemporary Jewish polemic, the New Testament’s slander against fellow Jews is remarkably mild.’810 Rather, the issue is that behavior that we accept in our kin is unacceptable in a stranger. Fraternal exchanges are often strident, buy they do not license strangers to trespass inter-religious markers. Moreover, the viciousness of internal feuds is unacceptable in the dialog between religious traditions. Therefore, non-Jews may not use the fact that Jews denigrated Jews, as licensing, or ‘justifying’ their denigration of Jews or of Judaism. The fact that the insults of a stranger are similar to fraternal attacks, does not make the former any more acceptable—or less dangerous. The tensions that we encountered in the New Testament between the authors and the Jewish followers of Jesus gradually morphed (in the memory and in the perception of later believers) into a conflict between the ‘synagogue and the Church.’ The complex and theologically unsettling sociotheological processes that dominated the first centuries of belief in Jesus were thereafter hidden behind a monolithic and all-encompassing megastereotype about Jews and about Judaism, and a largely mythical ‘conflict between Judaism and Christianity.’ This deeply rooted misperception was further exacerbated by the misinterpretation, and misreading, of the multivalent ‘Ioudaioi’ and of ‘they / their / them’ into the univalent ‘the Jews’ - weakening our ability to discuss, let alone understand, what transpired. As we see the edifice of anti-Judaism grow before our eyes, it is difficult to restrain our outrage at the fact that vicious slander and defamation remained sacrosanct, authoritative, and influential for so long. Knowing their subsequent impact on attitudes toward Jews and toward Judaism, the polemical rampages of second and third century are hard to endure. Moreover, this derogatory and inflammatory hyperbole is abhorrent and unnecessary. It is abhorrent due to the fact that it contains the rationale for the future disenfranchisement and martyrdom of defenseless Jews. It is unnecessary because integration of preceding lore does not need be derogatory, adversarial, or supersessionary. 379 About Judaizing+ Accusations of ‘Judaizing’ surface when the drive to Gentilize the Jesus movement encounters opposition from those attempting to maintain the Jewish affiliation of the Jesus movement. This peculiar term originates in the misperception that there was a relapse to sympathy for Jewish practices or beliefs. Ironically, the Pauline drive to de-Judaize the Jesus movement was cast as the defense of orthodoxy, whereas the defense of ‘things as they are’ is cast as apostacy. It is possible that the term Judaizing may have originated in the minds of recent converts from Paganism who joined Pauline communities. Upon encounter with the Jewish followers of Jesus or their Gentile sympathizers in the public arena, these Gentiles would have perceived them as attempting to ‘Judaize.’ Thus, the attempts by the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and their Gentile sympathizers to fend off the de-Judaizing of the Jesus movement are often portrayed in the lore as offensive moves to Judaize it. However, these activities should not be considered proselytizing given that they would be directed to oppose change, not to bring it about. During the first century, belief in Jesus was not in danger of being ‘Judaized’; it was Jewish. Recognition of the importance, and of the impact, of Judaizers (Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish faction) has been slow to emerge. Scholars have devoted considerable attention to ‘Judaizing’ in Revelation, Barnabas, Justin and Ignatius. Michele Murray,811 standing on Strecker, Wilken, Stendahl, Gager, Gaston, Wilson, Taylor, and Lieu, argued the case for recognizing Gentile sympathizers with Judaism (Gentile Judaizers) as main targets of some of the texts we have discussed. Her work focuses on Gentile sympathizers with Judaism as the opponents of the authors and rejects the traditional identification of ‘the Jews’ as ‘the’ main adversaries. Murray’s conclusions support the existence of an influential Jewish faction through the first four centuries of belief in Jesus.812 On this subject Murray concluded that: …certain Gentile Christians received encouragement and pressure to Judaize from fellow Gentile Christians 380 already engaged in Judaizing behavior—as was likely the case in Galatians, in Ignatius’s letters to the Philadelphians and the Magnesians, and in the Epistle of Barnabas. They also were likely influenced by Jewish Christians, as reflected in Galatians, the Didache, in Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho, the Kerygmata Petrou in the Pseudo-Clementine literature, and in Colossians. She further elaborates that: assuming that Judaizing was indeed occurring, there is no substantive evidence that Jews were the instigators of such behavior among Christians. Rather, as stated above, this study contends that fellow Gentile Christians more likely were the primary aggressors—as, for example, in Galatia and, possibly, in Philadelphia. In other cases— such as the Didache and, possibly, in Colossae—Jewish Christians were the propagating party. Sometimes both Jewish and Gentile Christians were involved—as in Galatia.813 Whether the opponents of an author are members of the Jewish faction, their Gentile sympathizers, or Gentile sympathizers with Judaism is important, but either is reflective of the opposition to the proto-orthodox campaign to Gentilize the Jesus camp, not of a drive to Judaize it.814 Per the thesis advocated here, Pauline authors were not fending off ‘Judaizers,’ they were de-Judaizing the Jesus tradition815 (they were not fending off change, they were promoting it). The promoters of change labeled the original identity holders as ‘heretical’ and engendered the view that their efforts, and those of their supporters, to persist and persevere in maintaining the Jewish affiliation of the Jesus movement were ‘Judaizing practices.’ Indeed, ‘Judaizing’ has been traditionally understood as the activities of those ‘relapsing’ or promoting a ‘relapse’ to Jewish ways, instead of the opposition to change that it represents. Much more than a squabble about semantics is at play here for ‘Judaizing’ is an anachronistic term that has 381 come to symbolize heretical change and is associated with a discourse tainted by anti-Judaism. ‘Judaizing’ is a tendentious term that reflects a Gentile perspective on the opposition to the crusade to de-Judaize the Jesus movement. The Pauline goal was to fashion a Gentilized version of belief in Jesus that would maintain some similitude to the tenets of the founding fathers, but would reject those features that were most foreign, demanding, and alien to new converts from Paganism (i.e., Torah observance, circumcision, and food laws). Murray further suggests that it was unlikely that Jewish followers of Jesus followed a policy of aggressive proselytizing learned from Jews, for there is no evidence in extant sources from antiquity for a significant missionary activity by Jews, although we cannot rule out that individuals may have occasionally proselytized.816 Most scholars agree that a tradition of ‘GentileJudaizing’ existed without interruption from the earliest times.817 Lacking is the recognition that it reflects and corroborates the persistent influence of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and/or their enduring legacy – not the influence of Judaism per se. Furthermore, Gentile Judaizing is often associated to the ‘attraction’ to Judaism, not to the yearning for fellowship with the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, where it originates.818 I suggest that the ‘Judaizing’ phenomenon that infuriated Pauline leaders and intellectuals should be re-placed within the Jesus movement. Christian anti-Judaism does not emerge out of the reaction of Church leaders to the attraction of some Gentile believers to Judaism, as suggested by most scholars. Rather, some Gentile believers in Jesus were attracted to the synagogues of the Jewish followers of Jesus, not to mainstream synagogues, and that attraction was due to the fact that they were the original (and therefore authoritative) guardians of Jesus’ legacy. 382 The main motivating factor behind this attraction would be Gentile yearning for fellowship with the descendants of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement, not attraction to Judaism per se. Attraction to Judaism by some Gentiles would be a consequence, not the cause, of this phenomenon— creating a shift of emphasis and perspective in our quest to understand the evolution of Jewish-Christian relations. Wilson describes the situation accurately when he states that whereas the practice of Judaism among Jewish Christians was understandable and acceptable even well into the second century, the deliberate adoption of Jewish ways among Gentiles posed a serious challenge to the sense of identity, indeed to the very raison d’être, of the Christian community [The Pauline community]. According to Wilson, the ‘Jewishness’ of Jewish Christians could be seen as a hangover from the past, even if it served as an uncomfortable reminder of the rapidly receding Jewish roots of the Christian movement. To the Pauline leadership the ‘Jewishness’ of Judaizing Gentiles lent unwelcome standing to what was supposed to be a moribund and superseded competitor for it challenged the distinctiveness and supersessionary thrust of the Pauline claim. The denigration of Judaism that this could inspire is seen most clearly in Ignatius and Barnabas—that it was inferior and passé, that its rites and festivals were superseded, and that it did not understand the true meaning of its own traditions. An Elusive Jewish Response+ It is noteworthy, that throughout this survey, we have relied almost exclusively on texts preserved by the Christian tradition. This is due to the fact that, despite great efforts by many scholars, the search for the Jewish side of these debates has yielded dismal results. Moreover, scholars have noted an enormous disproportion in intensity and quantity—to the point of rendering insignificant, the few segments that have been identified as 383 possible Jewish responses.819 The absence of a commensurate Jewish response, if Judaism understood itself to be the intended adversary, is difficult to explain. However, if the original crisis was within the Jesus movement, as suggested here, we should not expect a significant Jewish response (at the time, debates within the Jesus movement would be unknown, inconsequential, and irrelevant to those outside the Jesus camp). Furthermore, the literature of the losing side is seldom preserved. Throughout the first and second centuries Judaism would have been a formidable adversary for the Gentile followers of Paul. Not only was it vastly superior numerically, it enjoyed significant prestige among Roman elites. Despite Judean rebelliousness, and the opposition of some Pagan writers, it enjoyed significant privileges including being the only foreign religion given official recognition by the Roman authorities. If, as argued by traditional and current scholarship, the intended adversary was establishment Judaism, it’s (almost total) silence and lack of response to the Pauline onslaught is intriguing. I have already noted that compared to the scope, centrality, and pervasiveness of the anti-Jewish hostility among early Gentile believers in Jesus, the Jewish side is intriguingly silent.820 A scholar assigned to present a report on the subject concluded: ‘It seems that searching for references to Christians and Christianity among the documents of the early rabbis neither elucidates greatly the condition of early Christianity, nor its anti-Judaism, nor, for that matter, the conditions under which second century rabbinism developed... In view of such benign results we simply must ask different questions.’821 During the centuries, much has been said about a single instance of suspected Jewish anti-Christianism: Birkhat Haminim, ‘the benediction against the heretics,’822 an issue we addressed in our discussion of the Gospel of John. Here we need only reiterate that the benediction seems to be a later collective and generic repudiation of heretics that was expanded to include 384 the Jewish followers of Jesus. The benediction is not concerned with Gentile believers in Jesus. It was (apparently) designed to dissuade Jewish followers of Jesus from leading Jewish religious services. A few second-century citations of ‘Jewish’ persecution are occasionally cited when a Jewish response is argued. However, in most of these citations, it is often unclear whether the persecuted are Jewish sectarians (the Jewish followers of Jesus) or Gentile believers in Jesus, and whether the instigators are Jewish believers in Jesus823 or mainstream Jews. In addition, it is often difficult to discern whether the persecution refers to biblical times, Jesus’s lifetime, or is contemporaneous.824 It has also been suggested that later Jewish self-censorship, triggered by fear (following the orthodox ascendancy), may lie behind the silence at the Jewish end.825 However, during the first three centuries, Judaism would have had no reason to exercise self-restraint, or self-censure, of its reaction to the attacks by Gentile believers in Jesus. Furthermore, evidence of a Jewish reaction should have survived beyond the reach of the later church in the Jewish strongholds of Judea, Egypt, Syria, and Persia, which had an extensive cultural interchange. In this respect, it is noteworthy that from Theodosius onwards, the Jewish center of gravity moved to Mesopotamia and later spread to Muslim Spain and Egypt, far beyond the reach of Pauline Christianity. The geographic dispersion of the Jewish people and lack of a centralized authority or hierarchy should have guaranteed the survival of literary evidence of a Jewish reaction to the Pauline anti-Jewish strand, if existent. Therefore, we seem to be on solid ground when concluding that the antiJewish rampage we have encountered in the Pauline lore and tradition was not addressed or reciprocated by the Jewish mainstream. It was either unknown or disregarded by the Jewish side. Mainstream Judaism seems to have remained uninformed, unconcerned, and unengaged. This conclusion is significant given the Pauline obsessive negativity regarding the attitudes of Jews toward Jesus and his Jewish followers. Wilson contributes corroborating support when he observes that while we know that for many 385 Christians their relationship to Judaism was of central importance, we cannot assume that the same was true for the Jews.826 The search for the response of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers to the challenge, and the vitriol, by the non-Jewish majority has also come to naught. to the exception of James, the reaction of the founding faction to the de-Judaizing crusade also eludes us. The lack of evidence for the reaction of the Jewish faction to the Pauline attacks may be due to the fact that the literature of small and defeated adversaries seldom survives. The Jewish followers of Jesus, the children and the grandchildren of Jesus’s first followers, understood themselves to be the true and legitimate heirs of his legacy and ministry. The role of the Jewish followers of Jesus as nonparticipating antagonists originates in their being Jewish sectarians and in their wish to live-up to their claim to being ‘the New Israel’ and the most righteous and Torah observant Jews. This sectarian posturing toward establishment Judaism would tend to exacerbate their self-segregation827 from non-Jewish believers in Jesus and give birth to resentment in the form of claims of ‘elitism.’ The cacophony of Gentile voices that emerged following the missions to the Gentiles may be a factor too. The descendants of the founding fathers may have distanced themselves from the large influx of newcomers espousing, from the perspective of the founding faction, ‘strange’ views, and beliefs about Jesus. This scenario may have predisposed the founding fathers to become unengaged and absent antagonists in the debates among Gentiles about what belief in Jesus was, or should be. Per Pauline orthodoxy, Judaizing (the influence of Judaism among believers in Jesus) was the result of active efforts by Jews to gain converts. This projection of Christian evangelizing zeal onto Judaism could not be further from the evidence. Despite meager evidence to support the claim that first and second century Judaism was an active proselytizer,828 variants of this theory have maintained a firm hold on academic thinking. This characterization was never less accurate than during the first and second centuries when Judean energies were consumed by two failed attempts to overthrow the foreign occupation, and by the need to digest their momentous implications. 386 Imposition of Christian templates on Judaism, a phenomenon that characterizes traditional and modern scholarship, has yielded significant misperceptions about Judaism. Among them, the perception of first and second century Judaism as a vigorous proselytizer and fierce competitor, that emerged out of the post-Holocaust Christian search for a meta-narrative that would explain the anti-Jewish bias in the lore. According to this narrative, anti-Judaism reflects the over-zealous enthusiasm of the ascendant religion over its declining competitor. The traditional certitude about the causal connection between Jewish proselytizing and the influence of Judaism among believers in Jesus829 was also facilitated by the Eusebian myth of origins: since affinity to ‘Judaism’ could not be acknowledged as the residual influence of the Jewish followers of Jesus, it gradually came to be understood as the consequence of ‘Jewish proselytizing.’ Nonetheless, the recognition that ‘Jewish proselytizing’ existed mostly in the minds of Gentile beholders, is slowly gaining momentum. During the last decades, as modern scholarship has gradually (but partially) peeled-off the impact of the Pauline hegemony over the Christian mind, ‘Judaism as Jews know it’ has been gradually introduced to Christian audiences. Within this new awareness, some scholars have revisited the traditional claims about Jewish proselytizing and have brought forward a variety of new insights. McKnight and Goodman have argued persuasively that a distinction ought to be made between the passive reception of converts or interested Pagans, and an active desire or intent to convert the non-Jewish world to Judaism.830 However, despite the absence of evidence on the reaction of the Jewish side, it is plausible that the intense anti-Judaic attitudes that came to predominate in the hearts and minds of Gentile followers of Paul did, eventually, filter out and did impact relations with local Jewish communities. Therefore, we should not preclude local circumstances where boundaries may have been breached and animosity ignited. This, however, would not be the cause behind the emergence of the anti-Jewish strand. Rather, it seems to have been one of its consequences. 387 388 Evolution of Jewish-Christian Relations+ The trajectory from the anti-establishment rhetoric of a Judean sect (the Jewish followers of Jesus) to the consequences of supersession theology is complex, elusive, and layered. It has six main elements that lay fused, confused, and intertwined in the texts: 1. Polemic by the Jewish followers of Jesus against the Judean establishment. 2. Polemic by Gentile believers against the legitimacy, character, beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement. 3. Appropriation Theology—The claim that Pauline believers in Jesus replaced the Jewish followers of Jesus as the New Israel, as God’s new chosen. 4. Supersession Theology—The view that the Pauline interpretation of Jesus’s legacy replaced and annulled the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by his first followers. 5. De-contextualization and subversion of the Judean tradition of selfcriticism and prophetic anti-establishment censure. 6. Loss of context, fusion, confusion, and misinterpretation of these rhetorical layers and their projection onto Judaism. 1. Polemic by the Jewish followers of Jesus against the Judean establishment. Rumors and accusations regarding cooperation or participation of the hated and illegitimate ‘Jewish authorities’ (traitors, and minions who administered Judea on behalf of the Romans) may have surfaced among the Jewish followers of Jesus following his death.831 At this early stage, allegations against the ‘Jewish authorities’ (distinct from later attacks on ‘the Jews’) may signal that we are reading textual traces of the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers—filtered through the prism of Gentile editing. This initial layer of rhetoric originates in the relationship between the Jewish followers of Jesus and establishment Judaism (candidates: James, protoMark, proto-Matthew, proto-John, and maybe proto-Revelation). 389 2. Polemic by Gentile believers against the legitimacy, character, beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement. The second layer of rhetoric targets the descendants of the founding fathers as the ‘establishment’ group within the Jesus movement. At this stage the antagonists were not the ‘Jews without’ but rather ‘the Jews within’ the Jesus movement. The Pauline mission to the Gentiles evolved in opposition to the founding faction (the Jewish followers of Jesus) and would have directed its sectarian and militant rhetoric first and foremost toward them, not toward Judaism—as commonly understood. Initially, the issues that the authors were trying to address, the frame of reference, the horizon, the intended adversaries, and the context seem to have been within the Jesus movement. This second layer includes many points of friction that surfaced as the protracted conflict within the Jesus movement lingered on. They included the tensions between Paul and the disciples, the disparagement of the disciples and their beliefs and traditions, the rejection of Gentile forms of belief in Jesus by the founding faction, the Gentile gravitation toward Jesus’s divinity, the self-segregation / elitism of the descendants of the founders, the exoneration of the Jewish faction from Roman persecution, and the influence that the descendants of the Jewish founders had among some Gentiles. 3. Appropriation Theology—The claim that Pauline believers in Jesus replaced the Jewish followers of Jesus as the New Israel, as God’s new chosen. The Pauline claim to the identity, authority, and legitimacy of the Jewish founding fathers resulted in the subversion and de-contextualization of their lore - including their self-perception as the New Israel, their anti-Jewishestablishment posture, and the Judean traditions of prophetic self-criticism. This wide-ranging subversion-appropriation was a consequence of the assertion (innocuous at first sight but enormously consequential) that the Gentile followers of Paul superseded and replaced the Jewish followers of Jesus as the new people of God, as the New Israel. 390 4. Supersession Theology—The view that the Pauline interpretation of Jesus’s legacy replaced and annulled the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by his first followers. The full systematic consolidation of Pauline thinking and its pivot toward the theological rejection and supersession of the beliefs and traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus is embryonic in the Epistle to the Hebrews and ´flourishes´ from the second century forward. The arguments elaborated during this period became the bedrock of later anti-Jewish attitudes. An odd mixture of clever, vicious, and bizarre arguments created a crescendo of antiJewish incitement. In addition to Melito’s infamous Peri-Pascha, scholars point to the writings of Justin, Tertullian, Aphrahat Ephrem, Cyril, and Eusebius as this era’s most notable contributions to the centuries-long evolution of anti-Judaism. Without this layer of consolidation and systematization, the edifice of hate that looms in the horizon would have had no foundation to stand on. The claims to the supersession of the Jewish followers of Jesus turned out to be a “fortuitous” and necessary phase by laying the foundation for future claims to the replacement of Judaism as the only foreign religio licita in the Roman Empire. 5. De-contextualization and subversion of the Judean tradition of self-criticism and prophetic anti-establishment censure. Ironically. the lore of the Jewish founders of the Jesus movement turned out to be a trove of anti-establishment polemical arrows that Gentile believers could use to denigrate the Jewish establishment of the movement. In the anti-Jewish-establishment traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus and other Judean sectarians (Qumran, Enochic and Jubelean sectarians), Pauline leaders also found a ‘ready to deploy’ arsenal that could be used to demote the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement. By interpreting the Hebrew Scriptures and the Jewish traditions of prophetic exhortation and self-criticism out of their historical context, and by appropriating the founders’ identity (The New Israel, The People of God) and their antiJewish-establishment lore - Pauline leaders and intellectuals eventually 391 crafted a strategy that was, in the long run, successful in de-Judaizing belief in Jesus.832 Judean self-criticism and Judean anti-establishment rhetoric, the quarry where many Pauline polemical stones originate, do reflect Jewish humility and the traditional Judean inclination to chastise and humble the people and its leaders. This Israelite tradition of self-criticism was harnessed by Pauline thinkers to ‘justify’ the Jewish ‘forfeiture of God’s favor’ (i.e., the transfer of God’s favor from the founding faction to the Gentile followers of Paul). These assertions and the appropriation of the Jewish scriptures gradually morphed into claims to the supersession of ‘Judaism’ by ‘Christianity.’ 6. Loss of context, fusion, confusion, and misinterpretation of these rhetorical layers and their projection onto Judaism. A more virulent strand of the anti-Jewish bias emerges as these layers become fused and confused in the lore and in the hearts and minds of later Gentile believers. Somewhere along the way, authors and audience seem to have lost the distinction between the founding faction, their Gentile sympathizers, and establishment Judaism. As this occurred, the layers surveyed above merged into an undifferentiated, and tumultuous, river of anti-Jewish incitement. Dynamics of fusion, confusion, extrapolation, and projection converted an internal debate about Judaism into undifferentiated anti-Judaism. It is reasonable to assume that this ‘melting pot of incitement’ matured at different times and at different rates for different communities. We know, however, that by the fifth century the process was almost complete. Summary The disparagement of religious adversaries is found in many religious traditions. However, within the proto-orthodox tradition defamation, vitriol, and abuse of adversaries within and without became a central modus operandi that left a significant footprint in the lore and had a tragic impact on the souls and hearts of believers and on the lives of opponents. 392 Undifferentiated and genocidal polemics originate in ‘normal’ conflicts that take a ‘wrong turn.’ At what point did Pauline believers make an unintended and irreversible turn into an ethical dead end? Genocidal tendencies emerge when the disenfranchisement and the dehumanization of internal adversaries or external enemies merge with a secular or religious delegitimizing narrative. Undifferentiated anti-Judaism is an intermediate phenomenon that matures when the proto-orthodox interpretation of Jesus’s legacy becomes the imperial faith. It reaches full bloom when first century polemic against the Jewish followers of Jesus is distilled into a systematic anti-Jewish theology. Orthodoxies and Sacred Texts+ Orthodoxies emerge to preserve, control, maintain, and dispense religious legitimacy. Dogmatic gatekeepers attempt to perpetuate structures of religious power and legitimacy, even though humans are not qualified to place limitations on the creator’s transcendence, immanence, or on his dialog with his creation. Continuous divine revelation and a continuing dialog of believers with the divine are orthodoxy’s worst nightmare. Furthermore, during the twentieth century we have come to suspect that ‘reading’ sacred texts is an intricate phenomenon. It seems that when we consult our sacred lore a cyclical sequence is at work—an interactive process where one’s worldview, mindset, and predispositions are the dominant factors in the interpretation that emerges. The religious beliefs, sociopolitical perspectives, and ethnic heritage that we ‘bring to the table’ when reading sacred texts, are reinforced when we reencounter them in the sacred literature—one of the wells they emanated from. A believer’s reading of a sacred text may be seen as a ritual act of reassurance and reinforcement that yields a pre-determined set of beliefs and values. The dynamics and the processes that we have debated, surveyed, and speculated about were, most often, hidden from the participants. To the protagonists, reality was chaotic, the outcome uncertain. It is only with hindsight and through the filter of time and interpretational meta-narratives that we can discern and connect events into processes. From the vantage point of the participants, militancy, factionalism, dissent, turmoil, and 393 uncertainty were the rule. Our relatively organized, systematic, informed, and rational environment would be utterly foreign to them. The anxiety, confusion, enthusiasm, fervor, and exuberance of first- and second-century believers in Jesus are palpable in the canonical and authoritative texts we have surveyed. Reading the authoritative texts, we can take the pulse of a religion at the cradle of its birth; we can see a major world religion emerging before our eyes. The ‘push and shove’ of theology-in-themaking is fascinating; so is the transition from chaotic creativity to structure and normative orthodoxy. [+pg 274] What If? Even though victory does not bestow ethical or divine validation, the ‘reality’ it engenders becomes a template that is hard to shed off.833 Pondering on alterative historical (and theological) paths goes against our conceptual ‘wiring’ due to the fact that such exercises threaten the validity of ‘the world as we know it.’ Alternative historical scenarios require a ‘leap of imagination’ for they force us to realize how dependent our worldviews (our ‘reality’) are on conjectural outcomes. These scenarios are unsettling for they question, challenge, and threaten our innermost need to see ‘reality’ as the victory of justice over injustice, of good over evil, of right over wrong, of what is true over what is not. However, ‘History’ has been, since time immemorial, the legitimating narrative of the victors. Up to the modern era victors had a monopoly on ‘history’ and often reshaped the past to legitimate the present. This suspicion, that ‘history’ tends to reflect the agendas of the party that gained the upper hand, is only a few decades old. It is no surprise, therefore, that for nineteen hundred years the orthodox account of the emergence of belief in Jesus was accepted as the original, and therefore ‘true,’ understanding of his ministry. Whether this outcome was providential or the 394 result of conjectural socio-theological processes, we cannot but wonder what might have been the alternatives. Could belief in Jesus have remained Jewish? Could either the Marcionite or the Gnostic worldviews have emerged as the majority view? Would a Marcionite, Gnostic, or Jewish Christianity have evolved free of the ‘conflict between the Synagogue and the Church’? At the dawn of the twenty-first century there is a growing recognition that unity emerged out of diversity, contrary to the traditional account. It may be said, in a gross oversimplification, that prior to the fourth century theology was local, that Rome became predominantly proto-orthodox, that the communities of Asia Minor tended to go counter-Rome and were inclined toward Marcion, that the Syrian communities were influenced by Judean strands, and that in Egypt there was great sympathy for Gnostic views. Furthermore, we have seen that while the founding faction focused on Torah observance, Pauline believers in Jesus emphasized Jesus’s death and resurrection. Other believers emphasized, his sayings, teachings, or secret knowledge (Gnosis). Some believed that Jesus’s death was a sacrifice for the sins of the world (Paulines). Others believed that death is freedom from a world of suffering (Gnostics). Some believers did not see Jesus’s death as central to his legacy. Significantly, James and his community, the M material in Matthew, the Didache, the Pseudo-Clementine literature, and the communities behind the Gospels of Mary, the Savior, Thomas, Truth, and Phillip as well as the Apocryphon of John do not seem to share the Pauline-Synoptic emphasis on Jesus’s death, Roman exoneration, and Jewish culpability. The rediscovery of the second-century Jewish, Marcionite and Gnostic variants has momentous consequences for our reconstruction of the evolution of belief in Jesus and invites us to speculate about alternative pathways. The existence of several early forms of belief in Jesus also allows us to speculate that Christianity could have evolved differently. If the New Testament had included only texts recognized as authoritative by the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, it would have an anti395 Jewish-establishment tone and would include a demand for strict Torah observance. A Gnostic New Testament is more of an enigma, since Gnosticism, more a trend and a state of mind than a theology, was extremely diverse. We also know with some certainty that the Marcionite New Testament would have focused on Paul’s Epistles and Luke, purged of ‘Judaizing’ influences. Whether the victory of Marcion would have resulted in a less strident antiJewish stance is one of history’s greatest enigmas. The descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers would pose a challenge to a Marcionite Christianity, but the supersessionary impulses behind the crusade to lay claim to their identity and lore would not be there to fuel the anti-Jewish flame. It is plausible that a non-orthodox Christianity, free of the need to supersede Judaism and to lay claim to its identity and heritage, may have parted company with it and may have avoided the anti-Jewish dead end. By rejecting the Jewish heritage of the founding fathers, a Marcionite Christianity may have avoided the anti-Jewish trajectory inherent in the ambivalent Pauline denigrate-but-appropriate model. Moreover, ‘Marcion’s insistence on the literal interpretation of the Hebrew Scriptures potentially created a bond of understanding between him and at least some Jews that his opponents could not have achieved.’834 Whereas the Pauline faction claimed to supersede the beliefs of the founding faction and strived to demote them from their position as the guardians and interpreters of Jesus’s legacy, Marcionites and most Gnostic believers rejected their beliefs and traditions altogether.835 This critical difference may explain the growth of more strident strands of anti-Judaism among the Paulines.836 Whereas Marcionites and Gnostics recognized that by rejecting the beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers they were creating new interpretations of Jesus’s ministry, the proto-orthodox strove to vest themselves as the rightful inheritors of the Jewish founders, setting them on the supersessionary trajectory. Whereas ejection-separation leaves ground for separate and respectful coexistence, claims to appropriation and substitution do not - they set in motion the sequence that led to an ethical dead end. The complex evolution of the supersessionary strand may be summarized as follows: 396 Yearning for inclusion>Resentment at exclusion> demands at inclusion> implied challenges to the authority of the Jewish followers of Jesus (Mark´s delegitimizing of the character and traditions of the disciples)>delegitimatizing Judaism> appropriation>supersession>disenfranchisement > persecution The incorporation of cultural and theological precursors does not need be adversarial, derogatory, or dehumanizing. Furthermore, this type of serial denigration of an opponent’s religious tenets has little rhetorical or theological merit and can easily be turned around. Some ancient rhetoric was vitriolic, but not all ancients developed a persecutory bent toward their predecessors (see the benign integration of Greek culture by the Romans and of Hinduism by Buddhism). Indeed, the life stories of Jesus and the Buddha share striking similarities. Both aimed at reforming their native cultures (Judaism and Hinduism). Neither claimed to be the founders of a new religion. Both were deeply touched by the human condition (poverty, suffering, and death) and both championed mercy and love. Interestingly, their legacies were extraordinarily successful among strangers but were rejected by most their brethren. Christianity and Buddhism also differ significantly: whereas Christianity forged an alliance with power and despotism, Buddhism by and large shun power and wealth. Christianity became exclusivist and persecutory. Buddhism, by and large, emphasized inclusiveness and non-confrontation. Whereas Christianity built an edifice of disparagement and contempt toward Judaism, Buddhism incorporated the Hindu tradition without a discourse of denigration or supersession. Afterthoughts+ A note of caution is appropriate: socio-theological processes are complex, protracted, interdependent, and elusive. The processes that we have attempted to identify and decipher are fog-like. ‘In real time,’ the trajectory ahead was unclear and uncertain. Long-term processes that are identifiable 397 to us in hindsight, were hidden from the protagonists. Only in retrospect can we sketch the outline of this rather intricate story. A complex reality where multiple protagonists and themes interact in a fluid and inconclusive manner for some three hundred years seems to be the best depiction of reality-onthe-ground as reflected in the textual corpus before us. During the early decades of the Jesus movement the internal divide between the Jewish followers of Jesus and mainstream Judaism looms large (i.e., the adversaries are specific groups within Judaism: the high priests, the Pharisees, the elders, and the scribes). During the last decades of the first century the epicenter shifts and points to growing opposition to the beliefs and traditions of the founding faction among Gentile believers. In the earlier layers the ordeal and the perspective of the Jewish followers of Jesus left footprints in the texts. As the movement becomes increasingly Gentile, the ordeal and the perspective of recent Gentile converts dominates the scene. For the most part, when the author(s)/editor(s) of the canonical texts criticize or downplay the disciples they are justifying to their audience the estrangement from the Jewish founders, not their estrangement from mainstream Jews, to which they would have been indifferent. It is possible that projection and externalization onto the interreligious arena, and the emergence of the misperception about the existence of a ‘conflict between Judaism and Christianity,’ may have started earlier than implied by the trajectory suggested here. It is plausible and probable that the blurring, the fusion, and the confusion between ‘internal’ and ‘external’ Jews and between Judaism ‘within’ and Judaism ‘without’ may have started earlier than implied by my presentation. We can expect that in towns or regions where communities of Jews and of Jewish followers of Jesus coexisted, Gentile believers would maintain a clearer distinction of the two. In areas where Gentile believers would encounter only one type of ‘Jews’ or none, the fusion, and the confusion would occur earlier and would be more pronounced. Moreover, we should be hesitant to reconstruct a sociotheological reality by projecting a partial and posterior selection of texts onto the canvas of reality. In addition, the Pauline faction was not monolithic. We can distinguish moderate (Justin and Theophilous),837 intermediate (Tertullian, Origen), and extreme (Melito, Chrysostom) anti-Judaism. Significantly, the Pauline leaders of the second and third century were defensive and abusive toward all their adversaries within, not just toward the 398 ‘Ioudaioi.’ Indeed, their rampages against Pagans, Marcionites, and Gnostics and against any and all later adversaries and enemies, were also intense. Polemic in The New Testament Summary+ The journey we embarked upon did span four centuries. Along the way, Pauline believers gradually transited from yearning for fellowship with the Jewish followers of Jesus, to militant anti-Judaism. This progression, from failed fellowship to militant anti-Judaism, did take place at a different pace in different communities. A simplified presentation of the trajectory: THE EMOTIONS THE THEOLOGY We are worthy followers of Jesus too! Rejection of Torah observance You never understood! Delegitimizing the Disciples We are the New Israel! We are the new people of God! Challenging the leadership. Appropriation of the identity and lore of the Jewish followers of Jesus You are no longer God's chosen! Supersession Theology You, and all Jews are irredeemable and sinful! Projection onto Judaism Many junctures, themes, and motifs characterize the unintended journey we have tracked: 1. According to the New Testament, Jesus’ ministry lasted 18 to 36 months. This extraordinarily short ministry may account for the fact 399 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. that, unlike Buddha, Plato, Moses and Mohammed, who enjoyed lifelong ministries, he did not leave behind a normative legacy. The descendants of the founding fathers, similar to other Jewish sectarians, seem to have developed a militant anti-Jewishestablishment lore, would have perceived mainstream Judaism as ‘apostate and sinful,’ and would have claimed to be ‘the new people of God,’ ‘The New Israel.’ The anti-Jewish-establishment lore of Jesus’s Jewish disciples and first followers may have included accusations and rumors about participation or cooperation of the hated and Roman-appointed Judean traitors, collaborators, and minions who ruled Judea, in Jesus’s death. During the first decades following Jesus’ death, his disciples and first followers were the acknowledged guardians and interpreters of his legacy. Their beliefs, customs and traditions were grounded in first century Judaism. The rejection, by the Jewish leadership of the movement, of nonJewish forms of belief in Jesus as inadequate and lacking and the rejection of Judaism by most Gentile believers are the engines behind the estrangement between Jews and Gentiles in the Jesus movement. A situation where Gentiles of Pagan origin would be required to embrace the customs and traditions of the Jewish followers of Jesus, would be untenable. Eventually, it would exacerbate tensions between Jews and non-Jews within the Jesus movement and would precipitate a bitter estrangement between the parties. Differing interpretations of Jesus’s ministry struggled for recognition and for equal standing with the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers despite their rejection of the beliefs and traditions espoused by Jesus and by those chosen by him as the custodians of his legacy. Some Gentile converts joined the communities of the Jewish descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers. However, it seems that after finding the milieu of the Jewish faction unfamiliar and unwelcoming - most seceded amidst great bitterness and resentment. Other Gentile converts, the majority, joined the Gentile strands of belief in Jesus that were established by the missions to the Gentiles. Most of these communities rejected the beliefs and customs of the Jewish descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers as demanding, alien and idiosyncratic. 400 10. These Gentile converts, evangelized by Paul’s mission to the Gentiles, would have met the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers and their Gentile sympathizers in the public arena, and would become aware that they had been inducted into factions at odds with the founding fathers of the movement - a volatile situation that required a dissonance-reducing narrative. 11. Gentile believers with Jewish, Pagan, and Gnostic affiliations and inclinations were the protagonists in the crisis that followed. Everyone claimed to espouse the only ‘true’ form of belief in Jesus. Judaism, Paganism, and Gnosticism were not protagonists in these debates; they were the subjects of contention. 12. Framing the crisis about identity, legitimacy and authority within the Jesus movement as a debate about Judaism, the rock on which the Jewish followers of Jesus stood, seems to have emerged out of the Pauline dilemma of how to de-Judaize belief in Jesus without openly challenging the legitimacy of the Jewish faction as the exclusive guardians and interpreters of Jesus’ legacy. 13. Facing an uphill struggle for legitimacy vis- à -vis the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers, lacking a mature narrative, and standing on a still-evolving theology, Pauline believers seem to have gradually gravitated toward a strategy built on the belittling of the Disciples and on the denigration of their character, beliefs and traditions. 14. The denigration of the disciples may have originated in the need to justify and explain, to Gentile followers, the estrangement from the founding faction, the rejection of their beliefs and traditions, and the rejection of Gentile understandings of Jesus’ ministry and legacy by the Jewish faction. 15. The implicit message: the ancestors of the Jewish followers of Jesus did not understand Jesus’s legacy and betrayed him. All Jews, to the inclusion of the Jewish followers of Jesus, have forfeited God’s favor. Therefore, they are not rightful custodians of Jesus legacy. Gentile believers don’t have to follow their beliefs and traditions to be rightful followers of Jesus. Gentiles are God’s new chosen. 16. In need of a polemical arsenal to sever the influence that the descendants of the founding fathers had over some Gentiles, the deJudaizing camp found in the lore of their opponents a throve of antiJewish-establishment stones that they could use to denigrate Judaism—the pillar on which the Jewish faction stood. 401 17. By decontextualizing the Hebrew Scriptures and by subvertingappropriating the founders’ identity and anti-Jewish-establishment lore, and by subverting-appropriating the Jewish traditions of prophetic exhortation and self-criticism—Pauline leaders and intellectuals crafted a strategy that, although ultimately successful in de-Judaizing belief in Jesus, resulted in a protracted and rancorous struggle that lasted more than two centuries. 18. Most of the texts that were incorporated into the New Testament were authored when the drive to de-Judaize the Jesus movement was brewing up. This coincidence tends to over-emphasize tensions with followers of Jesus who were Jews. 19. Most of the texts that focus on the struggle with differing Gentiles (Marcionites and Gnostics) were authored after the apostolic era and were not canonized. This coincidence tends to under-emphasize tensions with followers of Jesus who were Marcionite and Gnostic. 20. Many texts contain a fusion of layered traditions. Earlier attacks on ‘establishment Judaism’ by Jewish followers of Jesus are intertwined with later attacks by Gentile believers on the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement. This peculiar layering may have exacerbated the dissonant messages about Judaism that permeate the tradition. 21. The Pauline literature of the second and third centuries reflects the uncertainty, anxiety, and resentment that characterized the long transitional period between the campaign to de-Judaize belief in Jesus to its realization. 22. Demotion by denigration is a protracted endeavor. Success is uncertain, and hard fought. Animosity and hatred became deeply ingrained in the hearts and minds of the challengers. 23. Whereas Mark hints that the descendants of Jesus’s disciples and first followers did not understand Jesus’s legacy and abandoned him, later Paulines claimed that the true meaning of the Israelite journey is to be understood and deciphered by non-Jews – the culmination of the appropriation-supersession thrust. 24. With the passage of time, and loss of context, the rhetoric that accompanied the de-Judaizing campaign came to be understood as reflecting a conflict with Judaism. This misinterpretation, or misrepresentation, transformed (in the minds of later generations) a conflict among believers in Jesus into a conflict between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ 402 25. Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History, and other authoritative texts, deleted this second century religious ‘civil war’ from ‘history’ and projected a mythical, and almost consensual and idyllic, transfer of leadership and of legitimacy from Jesus’ disciples and first followers to the later orthodoxy. 26. The vacuum created by this deletion necessitated and exacerbated, enabled, and facilitated the projection of the resentment toward the Jewish followers of Jesus, onto Judaism. Thus, what began as the seemingly harmless denigration of the disciples aimed at defending the right of Gentiles to be rightful followers of Jesus without having to be Jews, gradually gravitated toward an exclusivist and supersessionary mindset. Standing on the rejection of Torah observance, and expanding on Mark’s deprecation of the disciples, and on the supersessionary foundation provided by Hebrews and Barnabas, Pauline authors claimed that their opponents’ understanding of Jesus’s life and ministry, anchored in Judaism, was erroneous. Furthermore, the true meaning of Israelite history was to be understood and deciphered by nonJews. Throughout the lore, authors obsessed with ‘the Jewish question’ argued that ‘the Jews’ are sinful, irredeemable, misunderstand their religious heritage, lost or never had the covenant, lost God’s favor, and were no longer his chosen. The logic behind this strategy seems to be that if the Israelites were incompetent to properly interpret their own theological heritage, the Jewish faction could not understand Jesus’s legacy either. The architects of the Pauline appropriation-supersession edifice maintained that Gentiles could not reinvent themselves outside the legitimacy inherent in the lore and traditions of the founding fathers (as Marcion and most Gnostics argued). They did set the markers of the theological construct that was to be the central anchor of ‘orthodoxy’ inside Jewish territory, necessitating the appropriation-supersession narrative. 403 The traditional narrative+ The tensions and ambiguities inherent in the appropriate-supersede answer to the continuity-discontinuity dilemma vis- à -vis the founding fathers triggered the emergence of the appropriation-supersession phenomenon, with horrific consequences. The traditional Orthodox narrative included three elements: (a) to accept the Jewish meta-narrative; (b) to gut out most of its institutions, beliefs, and traditions; and (c) to appropriate the remaining narrative to vest a non-Jewish edifice with legitimacy and antiquity. The theology of supersession is the reflection, elaboration and transformation of these socio-theological circumstances into a theological claim. The de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus was an adversarial take-over, not the quasi-idyllic transmission of leadership and of legitimacy that Christian orthodoxy placed at the genesis of the religion. These historical processes were later obscured to render the compromise creed sacrosanct, and to veil the Pauline disenfranchisement of the descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers. As it pertains to deciphering the evolution of the anti-Jewish strand, the traditional account of the origins of belief in Jesus emerges as a narrative that: 1. Legitimates the de-Judaizing of belief in Jesus and stands on a myth about a quasi-consensual transfer of leadership and of legitimacy from Jesus’s disciples and first followers to Pauline belief in Jesus. 2. Obscures the marginalizing, the disenfranchisement, and the eventual persecution of the descendants of those chosen by Jesus to be the guardians of his legacy. 3. Justifies the claims to the appropriation of the identity and to the lore of the Jewish faction and to the supersession of their beliefs and traditions. 4. Externalizes and transforms a conflict among believers in Jesus into a conflict between ‘Judaism’ and ‘Christianity.’ 404 Chapter 10 *The Post Constantine era Imperial Christianity About canonization From Theodosius, onward Summary Afterthoughts Religious orthodoxies are the result of complex evolutionary processes. The pursuit of unity and the emergence of orthodoxy are widely attested in many religious traditions. Orthodoxy caters to the human need for coherence and unity and is naturally intolerant of deviance and diversity. In battles for religious hegemony, ‘history’ and ‘legitimacy’ are the victors’ spoils. Claims to exclusive access to, and understanding of, the divine realm are often used to further factional interests and power agendas. The sectarian infighting that, often, precedes the establishment of orthodoxy is often underemphasized or erased. Imperial Christianity+ By the fourth century, Roman religion838 was tainted by its association with a decadent Roman aristocracy and was seen by many as irrelevant and lacking spiritual substance. Christianity’s universalistic message, untainted by 405 association with the old elites and discredited oligarchies, seemed to fit a multi-cultural and multi-ethnical mega-empire in need of a new unifying ethos. Furthermore, Pauline militancy and enthusiasm coupled with the claim to exclusivity of ‘right belief’ were an advantage in promoting undivided loyalty. For Constantine, a ruthless and pragmatic power broker, these were valuable features and traits in his quest to unify the Roman Empire and to usher-in a new era of Roman revitalization. Constantine was first and foremost an ambitious, ruthless, pragmatic, and cold-blooded warrior and tactician. His reasoning was not theological, nor spiritual. For Constantine, religion, creed and ceremony were political tools to be measured by their political effectiveness in servicing his goals. The two main literary accounts of Constantine's "conversion" are written by Christian authors, Lactantius and Eusebius. Both were not present at the battle and both were individuals who wrote apologetic works with the clear intent of carrying Constantine's favor. In the 19th century, Jacob Burkhardt was the first scholar to reject Eusebius’s account. and suggested that Constantine coopted the growing church and its institutions to enhance his legitimacy. Many theories have been formulated to explain Constantine’s decision to end the persecution of Christians. My favorites: a. The Empire was in decline. A new religion without significant political and cultural ‘baggage’ and without connections to the traditional religious Roman centers of influence could be a source of renewed vigor, a thankful power base, and a valuable ally. b. The increasingly multi-cultural and multi-ethnic population regarded Roman religion as irrelevant and out of touch. c. Christianity’s call to ‘faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection’ seemed perfectly positioned to offer a creed that all could easily embrace. d. Christianity was universal, militant and exclusivist - the perfect imperial creed; a valuable ally to absolutism. e. Fourth century Christianity inculcated obedience to authority as a moral duty, diverting the yearnings of believers to fulfillment in the afterlife - facilitating their plundering by the powerful. f. Constantine may have been impressed by the valor that Christians displayed when faced with martyrdom. A religion that could engender such traits in its followers was very valuable. 406 g. The Church was the only organized force throughout the empire, aside from the army – an attractive power base. Social cohesion and the hierarchical structure of the Church were appealing assets in a society lacking large scale social organizations. h. The great influence of his mother, Helena, who was a devout Christian. More an agglomeration of incompatible, still evolving, and competing factions than a mature theological worldview—the early fourth-century strands of belief in Jesus were forced by Constantine into a crucible that demanded a compromise. Constantine wanted, needed, and demanded, a unified Church standing on a unified creed. At Nicaea, under pressure to become a religious organization worthy of imperial favor, Church authorities hastened the processes of consolidation and reached a basic creedal articulation – even though the bulk of the theological work needed to achieve and implement that goal was still incomplete. Per Mary Boys: ‘…of the nearly three hundred bishops gathered at Nicaea, all but two signed the creed. Yet such an apparent consensus is misleading. Not only did some of the Arian bishops later admit they had signed in order to placate Constantine— ‘The soul is none the worse for a little ink’— but the Arian controversy continued for years, unsettling the empire and creating a fractious atmosphere within the church. Furthermore, … ‘a ‘worldwide’ ecclesiastical body convened by no less than the emperor himself had mandated a formulation that condemned and excommunicated those whose theology was deemed heretical. Not only had a boundary been drawn, but it enjoyed the sanction of the state.’839 The decision to embrace a minority creed was a bold move. Church and Empire started-off on a long and complex relationship. However, Constantine’s efforts to boost the dying political structure were unsuccessful and failed to revitalize the decaying Roman Empire. Constantine’s vision of harnessing the new creed to imperial purposes was not fully realized during his lifetime either. At the dawn of the fourth century, the decline that led to 407 the disintegration of the Empire was already in motion, and the Christianizing of the empire failed to stem it. Decades of inconclusive struggle between Pagan and Christian elements within the Roman aristocracy lay ahead, before the Christianizing of the empire under Theodosius was achieved (379-395 CE). Mutual interests and the need for reciprocal legitimating bound Church and Empire in a centuries-long dialectic of power. Politics and religion became intertwined for the benefit of the powerful and the impoverishment of ethics. The religion about Jesus, the humble Jewish preacher from Galilee, became the official creed of the most powerful empire in the history of Western Civilization.840 From Constantine onward, the Paulines burst onto the world stage with the body of a religion, the muscle of empire and the soul of a sect. Dogma, power, wealth, and exclusivism seemed to overtake the enthusiasm, creativity and diversity of the previous centuries. The extraordinary ascent of Christianity to absolute power brought an unprepared and not yet fully coherent creed to global pre-eminence. The militancy and the resentment of a recently persecuted sect, and its exclusivist mindset, became embedded in the psyche of the official religion of the mightiest empire of the era. From the fourth century onward, with the power, wealth and authority of Empire, Christian orthodoxy was no longer limited to persuasion and compromise. Following Constantine’s patronage and Theodosius’s Christianizing of the empire, Pauline ‘orthodoxy’ could enforce its hegemony in more efficient and expeditious ways. Only then did the orthodox yield real might and were able to persecute adversaries within more effectively. As orthodoxy consolidated its ascendancy and its alliance with the mighty and the powerful, a persecutory demeanor gradually matured. It progressed from the rancor of peer infighting to more efficient and emotionally detached mechanisms of dissent eradication. Accommodation to power and despotism was swift, the turn to intolerance almost immediate. Catapulted to power and influence by Constantine’s patronage, intoxicated by power, wealth and privilege, and militant and 408 exclusivist at soul - Imperial Christianity entered a marriage of convenience with the Roman elite. Constantine’s patronage placed the Church at the center of world power and turned the Christian ethical compass toward subservience to the rich and the powerful. Infused with great enthusiasm and fervor born out of this sudden transformation, Christianity, now the ally of the powerful and the mighty - became triumphalist, exclusivist and persecutory. Coercion, imposition and persecution became the tools of choice to combat ‘deviant’ belief and achieve unity. The Jewish prophetic tradition, with its chastisement of the mighty and its concern for the meek, was shunned. The new focus was elite-friendly and bypassed Jesus’s subversive legacy. It diverted the yearnings of believers to fulfillment in the afterlife - facilitating their plundering by the powerful. Catering to the ruling elites eventually took precedent, and Jesus’ social teachings were gradually de-emphasized. Moreover, catering to power required de-emphasizing revolutionary and socially unsettling elements of Jesus’ message. A religion based on Jesus’ social teachings would be perceived as subversive by the Roman elites and could not become an imperial religion. From the fourth century onward, political power and the Church became entangled in a paradoxical relationship (increasingly interdependent, complementary and nonetheless often adversarial). Three centuries of conflict with ‘the Jews’ (the Jewish followers of Jesus and their Gentile sympathizers)841 left deep scars in the Pauline psyche. Instructed by sacred texts permeated with ‘anti-Jewish’ sentiment originating in the identity crisis within the Jesus movement, post-Constantine Christians directed their resentment toward external Jews. After Theodosius, the victorious Pauline faction (now Christian orthodoxy) will harness and redirect the vast anti-Jewish rhetorical arsenal it deployed against the founding fathers - toward external, mainstream Judaism. From Nicaea forward, having attained some degree of self-definition and internal cohesion, and permeated with an ingrained tradition of anti-Jewish sentiment, Imperial Christianity turned with full force against Judaism. As time passed, and aided by Eusebius’ obscuring of, or ignorance about, the diversity of early belief in Jesus, the intricate and mostly intra-Christian 409 origin of the anti-Jewish trajectory was forgotten and obscured. As Christianity entered the Middle Ages, anti-Judaism became an integral part of its lore and mindset. Anti-Jewish sentiment was part of the fabric of life, deeply embedded in the religious lore and in the culture at large. The culture of polemical incitement and theological degradation that emerged from this crucible became a pivotal component of the emerging Christian identity. Indeed, ‘The notion of Jewish guilt, of Jewish sinfulness, envy and hostility had become fundamental to the supersessionary argument of the church.’842 Nonetheless, some positive developments did take place during this dark period. ‘Augustine, though he did repeat much of the polemics against Jews and Judaism current in the Patristic period, argued very strongly that Jews should be allowed to practice their faith freely without interference, since in so doing Jews witnessed to the divine truth of the Hebrew Scriptures, without which the New Testament and the teachings of Jesus make little sense. The Augustinian position was accepted by Pope St. Gregory the Great and became papal policy through the ages.’843 About canonization+ It is now a majority view that the Pauline ascendancy did not occur as early, or as smoothly, as implied by the ‘orthodox’ narrative. Furthermore, it took at least three centuries for the emergence of a canon and at least as long for that canon to be widely accepted. Irenaeus (c 130-200 ce), bishop of Lyons and the person to coin the term ‘New Testament,’ provides us the first list (not yet a canon) of sacred scripture, a proto-New Testament. To address the theological chaos and confusion among believers, Irenaeus created a list of recommended-sacred Gospels. Some of these texts, even though they contained elements or residuals of non-Pauline worldviews, were eventually included in the New Testament. According to Irenaeus, one of the Church Fathers, the canonical Gospels were associated with differing constituencies. He informs us that the Ebionites (a group of Jewish followers of Jesus and their Gentile sympathizers)844 and Gentile adoptionists used the Gospel of Matthew. Those who ‘separate Jesus from the Christ’ (i.e., most Gnostics) used Mark. The Marcionites used a revised Luke, and Valentinian Gnostics and Docetists used John. 410 Significantly, despite the eventual hegemonic status of the Paulines that followed the fourth century council of Nicaea, the epic battle about Gentile attitudes toward Judaism, Paganism and Gnosticism did not subside altogether, and did re-surface under various guises during the next centuries. The tensions between believers with Jewish, Pagan, and Gnostic affiliations and inclinations were never fully harmonized and remained latent at the core of the tradition. The footprints that these tensions left in the lore were never extricated either. Consequently, future Gentile believers in Jesus were to internalize deeply ambivalent attitudes toward Jews, Judaism, Paganism, and Gnosticism. Irenaeus’ choice of Gospels became normative and later canonical, when Athanasius’ list of authoritative texts was used to supply the churches throughout the empire with an authoritative canon (approx. 367 CE). This path to canonization embedded in the tradition a large number of discrepancies, inconsistencies, and tensions that originate in the diversity of the Jesus movement – and reverberate throughout the discourse to this day. We have Irenaeus’ and Athanasius’ lists. However, and unfortunately, we only have occasional quotations of the content of the original texts. The earliest full texts we have are from the sixth and seventh centuries. Consequently, we do not know the extent of re-editing that the original texts were submitted to. From Theodosius onward+ Sixty years after Nicaea, the Roman Empire became officially Christian, but the full Christianizing of the empire took centuries to accomplish. To us, events in the fourth century may seem to have been moving inexorably toward the formation of the Christian civilization ‘as we know it.’ However, at any given moment the dynamics and the processes that gave rise to Christianity were unclear, uncertain, and tentative to those living through them. Wilken cautions that people living through the fourth and fifth centuries were not aware that they were living at the threshold of a Christian era. Indeed, the sequence of emperors between Constantine and Theodosius — Constantius II, the militant Pagan Julian, the non-committal Valentinian, the ardently Arian Valens—gave no one cause to think they stood at the beginning of a new age. 411 Eusebius's dreams of one God, one emperor, one empire, one Church and his celebration of Constantine as a ‘mighty victor beloved of God’ had been replaced by the memory of orthodox bishops languishing in exile, of an emperor offering sacrifices in cities throughout the east, of laws prohibiting Christians from teaching literature in the schools, of resourceful and aggressive Arian leaders attacking the Nicene decrees.’845 The path to a full conversion to Christianity was not easy, nor simple. It was protracted and hard fought. Although the emperor had embraced Christianity, the culture of the empire was still Pagan. From Theodosius I (379-395 CE) onward, the Paulines, now Orthodox Christianity, imposed ever-increasing restrictions and burdens on the Jews: - Jews forced to convert were not allowed to return to Judaism. - Capital punishment was imposed for marrying a Jew. - Jews were excluded from public office and the military. - Special taxes were imposed on the Jewish population. - Building of synagogues was forbidden. - Jews were forced to celebrate Christian holy days. - Jews were forced to listen to Christian evangelizing sermons. - Restrictions on any type of religious fraternizing. - Between 465 and 694, some twenty councils issued rulings regarding relations with Jews. Among their decrees:846 -Marriages between a Jew and a Christian were forbidden (Councils of Orleans, 533 and 538; Clermont, 535; Toledo, 589 and 633). -Jews and Christians forbidden to eat together (Councils of Vannes, 465; Agde, 506; Epaone, 517; Orleans, 538; Macon, 583; Clichy, 626-7). -Jews banned from public office (Councils of Clermont, 535; Toledo, 589; Paris, 614-5; Clichy, 626-7; Toledo, 633). 412 -Jews prohibited from owning Christian slaves (Councils of Orleans, 538 and 541; Macon, 583; Toledo, 589, 633 and 656; Clichy, 626-7; Chalon-surSaone, ca. 650). -Jews were forbidden to appear in public during Easter (Councils of Orleans, 538; Macon, 583) and to work on Sunday (Council of Narbonne, 589). Facing a reality of persecution, disenfranchisement, and antisemitism the coping mechanisms of European Jewry were, for the most part, defensive and escapist. Emigration, false conversion, and withdrawal from reality were commonplace. Jewish creativity and energy found expression in the unlimited freedom of religious learning, and in esoteric and mystical speculation. Submersion in religious learning and in the esoteric world of Kabbalah mysticism offered freedom from a world gone mad. Of the 5–6 million Jews living in the Roman Empire at the dawn of the Common Era, 1–3 million lived in Europe. By the seventh century, the antiJewish policies implemented from Theodosius onward brought about the almost complete de-Judaizing of Europe. By the end of the first millennium, the Jewish population in the Christian lands had been decimated, expelled, forced into conversion or worse. Only a few small and scattered communities survived. Europe had been thoroughly de-Judaized. This first ethnic cleansing of the largest minority in the Roman Empire is largely unknown and has been largely erased from ‘history.’ Geographical concentration has doomed to extinction countless peoples who’s suffering no longer disturbs our sleep. These vanquished nations have disappeared from the world scene and from our consciousness. Throughout their history, the Israelites survived seemingly irreversible defeats at the hands of Assyrians, Persians, Greeks, and Romans. Thanks to staunch adherence to their beliefs and traditions, and thanks to longestablished diasporas, they also survived seventeen hundred years of intermittent and recurrent Christian persecution and marginalization. The existence of large concentrations of Jews beyond the reach of Christianity was the key factor in the Jewish survival. 413 The Adversus Iudaeos literature847 and the virulent anti-Jewish incitement pouring from all corners of European society does not leave much room for doubt as to the means deployed to achieve de de-Judaizing of Europe. Most would have had to choose between forced conversion, expulsion, or worse. This cleansing, erased from Christendom’s historical memory, did create a vacuum that has enabled the myth about the later emergence of ‘modern antisemitism.’ For the period after the seventh century, in addition to countless regional, local, and individual acts of disparagement, discrimination, and persecution, four large-scale cycles are identifiable beyond the initial de-Judaizing of Europe: 1. The French Carolingian and the British Anglo-Saxon monarchies, frozen in the Dark Ages, tried to emulate the economic success of the Jewish-Muslim coexistence and invited Jews to settle in their midst. This cycle ended when, a few centuries later, the Jews were expelled, and their property seized, as the French (1182 and 1392) and British (1290) emerging elites started to see them as competitors and coveted their assets. 2. Throughout Western Europe the era of the Crusades witnessed largescale massacres of Jewish communities by mobs incited into religious frenzy induced from the pulpits. 3. The Muslim conquest of Spain ushered a period of Jewish renaissance under Muslim patronage that lasted until the Christian conquest of Spain, that give rise to the expulsion or forced conversion of all Jews (1492, from Portugal in 1497). 4. Following the expulsions from Spain and Portugal, Eastern European and German principalities, aware of the benefits that the Jews had brought to England, France, and Spain, invited them to dwell in their midst. This cycle ended a few centuries later with the Holocaust. This sobering survey does not negate periods of peaceful coexistence as well as the acknowledgement due to individual Christians who stood by their Jewish neighbors and friends in times of need. 414 History instructs us about the consequences of disenfranchising, delegitimizing, or dehumanizing members of national, religious, or ethnic minorities. The anti-Jewish bias that we have tracked throughout was the precursor, the enabler, and the facilitator of the endemic persecution endured by the Jewish people since the fifth century. Spanning fifteen hundred years, Jewish-Christian coexistence has had many highs and lows, within an overall context of cyclical but ingrained anti-Judaism. The period beyond Theodosius’ reign is the next phase of the progression we have tracked throughout, and may be described as follows: Anti-Semitic polemic – antisemitism emerges out of anti-Jewish attitudes that became religiously and culturally sanctioned and legitimated. These attitudes were perpetuated and exacerbated due to the canonization of texts permeated with the bias that characterized the drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus. Antisemitism is genocidal in that it has nurtured, enabled and facilitated genocide. Genocidal polemic - An emotional and intellectual predisposition that emerges following prolonged exposure to undifferentiated messages of ambivalence and hatred that are perceived to be legitimate, sanctioned and justified. Genocidal polemic emerges when the disenfranchisement, the delegitimating and the dehumanization of internal adversaries or external enemies’ merges with a secular or religious de-legitimating narrative. This polemic enables and facilitates Genocide. The Post Constantine era – Afterthoughts+ Sectarian and factional conflicts are often characterized by militancy, extreme fervor and exclusivist inclinations. We would expect the evolution from sect to religion to reflect the transition from the margins of society to a mainstream mindset, a transition that may be associated with a ‘tuning down’ of extremism. Creedal evolution toward a normative and coherent theology, and a scriptural canon might help clean-out or mitigate sectarian diversity and the tensions inherent in it. However, this evolution is absent when the transition from marginalized-persecuted sect to religious and political 415 ascendancy is expedited by political patronage (Christianity) or extraordinary military success (Islam). Stroumsa notes that when Christianity was still a religio illicita, and early Christian intellectuals were striving for intellectual respectability, they were the first in the ancient world to develop a coherent argument about the need for religious tolerance, and hence pluralism. Oddly enough, it was their fourth- and fifth-century heirs who carried out the de-legitimating of religious pluralism.848 Indeed, as the Pauline religious corpus became the sacred lore of the most powerful religious movement humanity has known Paulines no longer needed to compromise and divested their defense for religious pluralism. In the case of Christianity, the accelerated transition from persecuted sect to Imperial religion placed at the zenith of world power a religion in the making, a worldview and a religious mindset still in flux. This accelerated trajectory may account for the fact that the sectarian anti-Jewish virulence that accompanied the Pauline drive for ascendancy was canonized and became normative – without a ‘tuning down’ of extremism. The result was intensification, rather than mitigation. With the might of empire and in full control of the Jesus legacy, the combination of great power and a resentful and vindictive mindset yielded triumphalist attitudes and an explosion of persecutory zeal. The implications for the Jewish-Christian relationship were momentous. According to Crossan, as Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, anti-Judaism moved from theological debate to lethal possibility. He concludes: ‘think, now, of those passion-resurrection stories as heard in a predominantly Christian world. Did those stories of ours send certain people out to kill?’849 From the fourth century onward, Christian Orthodoxy (the doctrinal descendants of the Pauline lineage) embraced the myth of an evolution from unity to heretical challenge - instead of the actual evolution from diversity to forced unity. As the eradication of the Second Century Christianities from ‘history’ was successfully accomplished, the internal nature of the original 416 debates was lost. Through persuasion, coercion, vilification and disenfranchisement, believers in Jesus were eventually forced into a narrow interpretation of a rich and diverse heritage.850 This mythical account of the Christian origins was necessary to legitimate the Pauline ascendancy, to obscure the adversarial demotion of the Jewish descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers from preeminence, and to obscure the transition from the original Jewish and Torah-Observant Jesus movement to a non-Jewish religion. The consolidation of orthodoxy was achieved by a thorough re-editing of events, the destruction of competing sacred texts, and the vilification and persecution of the opposing factions. Their sacred texts destroyed, and their beliefs persecuted, differing interpretations of Jesus’ legacy became ‘heresies,’ and were erased from ‘history’ and from the minds and hearts of believers. The triumphant Orthodoxies (The Western Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church) were extraordinarily successful in their efforts to rewrite history. The imposition of the orthodox veil was so complete that 1500 years later we are only beginning to uncover its existence and its consequences. Up to the fourth century, the protagonists in our saga were religious enthusiasts motivated by fervor and deep commitment. However, the enablers and facilitators of the transition to virulent antisemitism are a different cast of characters. From Nicaea onward, we find at the steering wheel a leadership infatuated with power and might and concerned with boundary definition and enforcement. Intense persecution of dissent will rage throughout Christendom. The Dark Ages are upon Europe and darker ages are upon its Jews. 417 418 Chapter 11 *The Responsibility for Jesus’ Death Introduction Mark - the foundation The ‘Jewish authorities’ The exoneration of the Romans Compatible views A gradual unraveling Summary Afterthoughts Introduction+ The libel about the Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death has loomed large over the Jewish-Christian saga. The anti-Jewish bias of the NT accounts of Jesus’ death is covered by a significant bibliography and needs not be repeated here. 851 In this chapter I attempt to engage this thorny issue through the lens of the socio-theological focus and conclusions of this monograph. We will prepare the ground by restating the questions that have accompanied us throughout this survey: Was the ‘Jewish responsibility’ motif present in all the first and second century strands of belief in Jesus? Where attested, did it have the same meaning, centrality, and intensity? Why were the Romans, Jesus’ executioners, exonerated? Why where the Jews blamed? Did the anti-Jewish strand emerge out of Jewish-Christian issues, or does it reflect tensions within the Jesus movement? Did the NT authors incorporate-appropriate-enhance suspicions, among the Jewish followers of 419 Jesus, about the involvement of the Roman-appointed traitors and collaborators who ruled Judea in Jesus’ death? Why did the Markan accusation against ‘the High Priests, the scribes and the elders’, a plausible claim within the context of Jewish anti-establishment rhetoric, morph into accusations against all Jews? Why did the binary ‘Jewish responsibility’/ Roman exoneration emerge despite clear Roman culpability and intense Roman persecution of Gentile believers in Jesus? Moreover, why did this tradition resonate so deeply with the Gentile followers of Paul852 and not with the other gentile strands of belief in Jesus? Is it coincidental that the group that made Paul’s belief in Jesus’ death and resurrection into the central tenet of belief, and was keen on deflating the Roman responsibility for Jesus’ death, is also the group that promoted the libel regarding ‘the Jewish responsibility ‘for Jesus’ death? What dynamics, processes and agendas made the anti-Jewish tradition central and dominant to the thinking, attitudes and theology of later Pauline believers? Mark - the foundation+ We do not know whether Mark invented or inherited his claim about the involvement of some Jews in Jesus’s death. It is plausible that following Jesus’s death, a variety of accusations and rumors may have originated among his followers regarding the role played by the traitors and collaborators who ruled Judea on behalf of the Romans (the high priest and the local Roman minions).853 This accusation seems to have originated with him but could reflect an intensification or de-contextualization of traditions originating in the anti-Jewish-establishment lore of the descendants of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement. There is no consensus as to which elements are incorporations or intensifications of previous attitudes and which are original. By casting Jesus’s crucifixion as caused by a Jewish conspiracy, Mark may have attempted to signal to internal and external constituencies that Jesus’s followers are not a threat to Roman society. By emphasizing Jewish culpability, he may be attempting to exonerate the Romans of responsibility for Jesus’s death, an unsuccessful attempt to alleviate persecution. Mark may 420 have also aimed at addressing concerns among prospective converts, some of which would be reluctant to join a sect at odds with the Roman authorities. Mark’s often contradictory and ambivalent positioning is noteworthy. Mark informs us that Jesus’s identity (the Messiah) is both; the trigger for his death sentence (14:61–65; 15:26) and part of God’s will and plan (8:31; 9:11–13; 14:21, 27). This position, however, does not restrain Mark from placing at the core of his work a seemingly contradictory claim. Namely, that Jesus’s death was not the consequence of Jesus’s messianic claims (or of Roman charges of sedition) but the result of a conspiracy by wicked priests and scribes who opposed him (14:55). Furthermore, according to Mark, Pilate was a ‘reluctant’ crucifier who did not want to crucify Jesus. Pilate was ‘forced.’ He tried to save Jesus, to no avail (15:9–10, 12–14). Pilate, a ruthless and notoriously cruel Roman prefect, is cast by Mark as indecisive and subject to the influence of those ruled by him. The chief priests (11:18; 14:43, 53–65; 15:31–32) and the scribes (1:22; 9:11–13; 11:18, 27; 12:35–40; 14:1, 43, 53; 15:1, 31) are, according to Mark, the main culprits in Jesus’s death. Mark’s casting of ‘the crowd’ as asking for Jesus’s crucifixion (15:12–14) implicates the Jewish people too. As indicated in the chapter on Mark, a Gentile writing 30-40 years after the events, attempts (and succeeds) in driving a wedge between Jesus, and his disciples and fellow Jews, in the eyes and souls of his audience (Pauline Gentile believers in Jesus) and of later believers. By casting Jesus as the misunderstood-hidden Messiah, as alienated from his family, disciples, fellow Jews, Jewish traditions and the Jewish establishment – the author of Mark aims at delegitimizing-by-proxy his adversaries in the Jesus movement (the Jewish followers of Jesus). This tendentious alienating of Jesus from those chosen by him to be the guardians of his legacy and from his Jewish family, background, traditions and affiliations, was aimed at delegitimizing the author’s Jewish adversaries within the Jesus movement and at severing Jesus’ Jewish grounding. 421 The ‘Jewish authorities’ + I have already noted that from the Babylonian captivity forward (587 BCE), the removal of local dynasties required their replacement with an alternative local oligarchy who would do the conqueror’s bidding. High priests were, for the most part, appointed by the conquerors and lost their religious legitimacy in the eyes of many among the local populations. We find that not only in Judea, but throughout the Middle East, the scions of venerable and legitimate priestly families were coerced into representing the interests of the foreign conquerors or were forced into acquiescence by other means. Most of these traitors, minions and collaborators with Persian, Greek and Roman conquerors were hated opportunists who collected taxes and ruled the provinces on behalf of foreign oppressors. Throughout the Persian, Greek and Roman empires high priests gradually became lucrative positions that were sold to the highest bidder. In Judea, this process was accelerated by the Hashmonean usurpation of the high priesthood and its transformation into a quasi-monarchical role. Thus, by the time of the Roman conquest, the High Priest had little religious legitimacy among the people. Furthermore, ‘It is noteworthy that in every known case action against the Jerusalem church or its leaders was taken when the reigning high priest was one of those who belonged to the powerful Sadducean family of Annas (Ananus),’854 a clan hated for its ties with the Roman occupiers. The persistent presentation of a corrupt elite; traitors despised by most Judeans, and the surrogates of the conquerors, as ‘the Jewish authorities,’ is misinformed at best. This casting is a disingenuous and tendentious misrepresentation of a nation under foreign occupation, a nation oppressed by the Romans and by Judean collaborators and traitors. Despite the delicate and sensitive nature of the terrain we are exploring, we must acknowledge that rumors and suspicions as to the involvement in the death of Jesus, of these Roman appointed traitors and collaborators, may have originated among his disciples and first followers. We may further say that as long as the Romans and their appointed minions were viewed as responsible for Jesus’ death and the story was told by a Judean, we are grounded in a seemingly plausible setting. This would be a Qumran-like antiJewish establishment polemic, with no external repercussions. The recasting of these charges into an anti-Jewish saga occurred as Gentile believers, in 422 their quest for legitimacy as rightful believers in Jesus, appropriated the antiJudean-establishment lore of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Experiencing a painful and resentful estrangement from the descendants of the founding fathers, these Gentiles appear to have turned these accusations into a tool to delegitimize the Jewish leadership of the Jesus movement. Indeed, the symbiotic nature of the focus on Jesus’ death and on ‘the Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death’ could not but damage the prospects of the Jewish descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers to lead the Jesus camp, and did strengthen the proto-orthodox drive for ascendancy in the Jesus movement. As narrator, audience, and perspective shifted – so did intent, content and deployment. The transition, in the canonical Gospels, from the original culprits (‘the chief priests, the scribes and the elders’ – Mark 14:43) to the different later variants of ‘the Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death’ - seem to be reflections of this shift. The exoneration of the Romans+ For the most part, the Romans weren’t interested in disputes among the locals, unless they identified a potential challenge to Rome’s authority. Passover, the festival that celebrates the liberation of the Jewish people from captivity in Egypt isn’t only a central religious observance; it is the foremost celebration and expression of Jewish identity, self-rule and selfdetermination. Given the underlying discontent, the holiday could easily become a focus of resistance to Roman rule. Anyone claiming (or been perceived) to be the Messiah, a descendent from King David, would represents a challenge to the authority of the emperor and could ignite this tinderbox. The Romans, short on troops, had to act preemptively. Furthermore, the Romans were the acknowledged executioners of Jesus, were inhumanly oppressive, were engaged in an ongoing persecution of Gentile believers in Jesus that was to be responsible for the martyrdom of thousands and were the mightiest empire of the time. Nonetheless, as we move from Mark to later texts, the Romans are increasingly cast as ‘reluctant’ crucifiers and ‘the Jews’ are increasingly cast as Jesus’ willful killers. We have seen that despite the almost unanimous agreement among 423 modern scholars that the Roman authorities where the main factor in Jesus’ death,3 the canonical Gospels create a continuum that emphasizes the culpability of ‘the Jews.’ By the end of the first century, the Synoptics had settled the choice of patron and villain. The Roman executioners were exonerated and became benefactors and sponsors, ‘the Jews’ became the scapegoat. The inclination to exonerate the Romans and blame the Jews was politically savvy; the Romans were the choicest target audience, the promised land of power and plenty, and the largest reservoir of potential converts. Furthermore, blaming ‘the Jews’ turns out to be supportive of the Pauline struggle against the Jewish followers of Jesus. Intended or unintended, by preventing the creation of an anti-Roman strand in the New Testament, the Markan inclination to exonerate the Romans for Jesus’ death turned out to be politically expedient and paid-off handsomely. The resentment generated by Jesus’ death was channeled toward the Jewish ‘culprit,’ allowing Paulines to be pragmatically accommodating toward Jesus’ executioners. It is noteworthy that despite Jesus’ torturous execution and despite centuries of intermittent Roman persecution, no systemic ‘antiRoman’ sentiment did develop among Gentile believers in Jesus. Christianity had chosen its scapegoat and its benefactor, to the benefit of its coffers and the detriment of its soul. Compatible views+ Rosemary Ruether, a Catholic theologian whose views4 created shock waves that reverberate to this day, is clear and blunt on the consequences of the anti-Jewish strand embedded in the New Testament and its impact on Christian culture:855 ‘As long as the Christian Church regards itself as the successor of Israel, as the new people of God substituted in the place of the old, and as long as the Church proclaims Jesus as the one mediator without whom there is no salvation, no theological space is left for other 424 religions, and, in particular, no theological validity is left for Jewish religion’ ‘The Church made the Jewish people a symbol of unredeemed humanity; it painted a picture of the Jews as a blind, stubborn, carnal, and perverse people, an image that was fundamental in Hitler’s choice of the Jews as the scapegoat. What the encounter of Auschwitz demands of Christian theologians, therefore, is that they submit Christian teaching to a radical theological critique…The fratricidal side of Christian faith can be overcome only through genuine encounter with Jewish identity. Only then might a ‘Judeo-Christian tradition,’ which has heretofore existed only as a Christian imperialist myth, which usurps rather than converses with the Jewish tradition, begin to happen for the first time’ In response to a book dedicated to discussing her challenge,856 Ruether further chastises her fellow Christians as follows:857 ‘The Church must take responsibility for creating this cultural role of the Jews, even though it murderous results were contrary to its strict intentions. Century after century the Church nurtured the demonic image of the Jews with theological vituperation that fed these murderous instincts, yet also tried to protect the Jews from the pogroms of the mobs.’ ‘The Church that turned the cross into an instrument of triumph and persecution must now meet the Jews, the messiah-people, after the holocaust. The Church which fomented a cultural myth about the Jew as Christ-killer must now meet itself as Jew-killer. Those who pursued the Jews as deicides must know themselves as the ones 425 who laid the ground for genocide. If Christians are to find the Holocaust as the contemporary image of the cross, as Paul Van Buren would do, they cannot do this by portraying themselves as the innocent aggrieved ones. In this drama we are the crucifiers, the heel of Roman power.’ ‘If we are the followers of the crucified, then we must take our stand with the victims. We cannot use the cross to be crucifiers of others. If we take our stand with the victims, we cannot do this in a self-mystifying way, but today only in deepest shame and repentance of our historical reality as the victimizers.’ Norman Beck addresses the consequences of the anti-Jewish strand as follows: ‘… the anti-Jewish polemic in the Christian New Testament over a period of many centuries has contributed to the development of prejudices and actions that have been extremely detrimental to Jewish life and community. As Christians, we are concerned about what has happened to Jewish people during the intervening centuries due to the fact of this polemic in the New Testament and the prejudices and oppressive actions for which it has provided theological justification. … What are we who live as Christians during the latter decades of the twentieth century going to do about the anti-Jewish polemic in the New Testament which has provided the theological basis for oppressive, unjust, and extremely hurtful Antisemitism?’858 On the same subject: 426 ‘As long as Christians were the marginalized and disenfranchised ones, such passion fiction about Jewish responsibility and Roman innocence did nobody much harm. But, once the Roman Empire became Christian, that fiction turned lethal. In the light of later Christian anti-Judaism and eventually of genocidal Antisemitism, it is no longer possible in retrospect to think of that passion fiction as relatively benign propaganda. However explicable its origins, defensible its invectives, and understandable its motives among Christians fighting for survival, its repetition has now become the longest lie, and, for our own integrity, we Christians must at last name it as such.’859 ‘Evangelical Christians have a more difficult positioning challenge. Some wish to differentiate between ‘appropriate anti-Judaism’ and ‘inappropriate antiJudaism.’ Here ‘appropriate anti-Judaism’ is a necessary component in any form of Christianity that seeks to be true to the New Testament. That this can lead and has led to Antisemitism is not denied. But that it is the same as Antisemitism or necessarily leads to Antisemitism is denied.’860 ‘The anti-Judaism which begins in the New Testament becomes much nastier in the writings of the early fathers and in the legislation of the post-Constantinian emperors. At least some of this development, however, must be understood as a misunderstanding by later generations of the polemic of earlier generations. At least some statements which were later understood to refer to Judaism or to Jews or to Jewish Christians were originally made to correct beliefs and practices of Gentile Christians.’861 We need keep firmly in mind that most converts to Pauline belief in Jesus had little previous exposure to, or direct contact with, Judaism. Their antiJudaism was, for the most part, the result of indoctrination and incitement, 427 not of first-hand experience or knowledge – not the result of a learned rejection of Judaism. These innocent believers absorbed and internalized a stereotypical, distorted, and imaginary view of Judaism. The Law that Pauline-believers in Jesus rejected was not the Torah that the Torahobservant Jewish followers of Jesus revered. The ‘Law’ that Pauline believers were induced into hating was an imaginary, restricted and distorted caricature of the Torah that Jews have observed for generations. Incredibly, this distorted misperception did populate Christian souls for more than two thousand years. A gradual unraveling+ The gradual unraveling of the longstanding libel about ‘the Jewish culpability’ regarding Jesus’ death has not yet run its course. This process is the result of decades of awe-inspiring effort by Christians who have labored tirelessly, often against strong countercurrents. This shift is also a consequence of the emotional and theological trauma caused by the Holocaust, of the great human march toward religious tolerance, and of the impact of increasing cultural and ethnic diversity in Western societies. The final text of Nostra Aetate (‘In our Times’), the declaration of the Catholic Church on its relationship toward the Jews, widely acknowledged as a precursor of a new dawn, reads:862 ‘True, the Jewish authorities and those who followed their lead pressed for the death of Christ; still what happened in his passion cannot be charged against all the Jews, without distinction, then alive, nor against the Jews of today. Although the Church is the new people of God, the Jews should not be presented as rejected or accursed by God, as if this followed from the Holy Scriptures.’ The Nostra Aetate was the first historically significant re-statement of Christian views toward Judaism. It is no coincidence that the statement centers on the Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death, the epicenter of our saga. Unfortunately, final document was a compromise that fell short of expectations: 428 A- ‘True, the Jewish authorities and those who followed their lead…’ As indicated earlier, the persistent presentation of a corrupt elite; traitors despised by most Judeans and the surrogates of the conquerors, as ‘the Jewish authorities,’ is disingenuous, unacceptable and tendentious (although technically correct). The notion that a conquered nation is responsible for the actions of an illegitimate leadership appointed by conquering armies is preposterous and suggests unstated agendas. The identifiers ‘illegitimate and Roman-appointed High Priests’ or ‘illegitimate and Roman imposed authorities’ or ‘Roman appointed collaborators’ would be factual and truthful to context. Thus, unless unequivocally corrected, the current text panders to old misconceptions and prejudices, worrisome in its avoidance of an absolute rejection of the libel and in its impact on the uninformed. B- ‘The Jews should not be presented as rejected or accursed by God’ should be replaced by the simpler, non-ambiguous and higher standard of: ‘the Jews were not rejected or accursed by God.’ C- ‘Although the Church is the new people of God…’ This supersessionary statement at the heart of an historical overture is a frank disclosure of the core intent: the dispossession of the Jews as God’s chosen, and should be eliminated. D- The re-statement: ‘some Jews bear responsibility for Jesus’ death,’ a welcome deflation from the traditional ‘the Jews bear the responsibility for Jesus’ death’ is nonetheless contaminated by anti-Jewish bias. Even though the final text was a compromise designed to placate the conservative wing of the Catholic Church, and regardless of our reservations about the wording of the Nostra Aetate, we must acknowledge that it was an historical accomplishment of great value and impact. Years later, Pope John Paul II declared that ‘Catholic teaching should aim to present Jews and Judaism in an honest and objective manner, free from prejudices and without any offenses.’ Pope John Paul’s heart and mind were in the right place. As a young priest in WWII Poland, Pope John Paul II saw the 429 suffering of the Jewish people and witnessed the deportation of his Jewish childhood friends to the death camps. The anti-Jewish incitement that emanated from the pulpits and legitimized, nurtured and enabled antisemitism was obvious to him. Intra-Catholic consensus building and the traditionalist backlash that followed the great strides of the 70s and the 80s required him attenuate the pace of change. His courageous and groundbreaking personal attitude expressed in this and many other statements were directed at alleviating the shortcomings of the ‘Nostra Aetate’ declaration of Vatican II. The Responsibility for Jesus’ Death – Summary+ Conflict within the Jesus movement became inevitable as the missions to the Gentiles changed the demographics of the movement. Tensions festered as the relatively homogeneous sect of Jewish followers of Jesus finds itself overwhelmed by an influx of recent non-Jewish converts, willing to embrace Paul’s interpretation of belief in Jesus – but resentful of the attempt (by some among the Jewish followers of Jesus) to impose Jewish beliefs and traditions on them. We have already pointed out that in sharp contrast to the Pauline view, other factions held differing views about Jesus’ death, its causes and implications. Some Gnostics believed that Jesus’ death was a positive event signaling the end of his suffering. The Gnostic Gospel of Judas instructs us that, for some early believers in Jesus, Jesus’ death was a welcome event (under most Gnostic belief systems the material world is the dominion of demonic forces and life is to be escaped so that the divine spark within may join the divine realm, where it belongs).863 Marcion had a different perspective: Jesus did not fit the Jewish expectations for a messianic savior and thus was not recognized by most Jews (Marc.3, 6). Furthermore, Jesus’ death was divinely ordained (Marc.3.24; 5.6). We do not know the demographics of the Jesus movement at each decade following Jesus’ death. However, we can say with relative certitude that the Pauline understanding of Jesus’ death and resurrection, the intense focus on culpability that this belief entailed, and the consequent libel about the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death,’ were not embraced by all early believers in Jesus and were not intrinsic to all forms of belief in Jesus. 430 The diversity of the Jesus movement during the second century instructs us that this emphasis was not an inevitable or intrinsic outcome. We have seen that to all strands Jesus’ death was a matter of record, but not the pivotal focus of belief. The realization that the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death’ was theologically central to only one of the four earliest interpretations of Jesus’ ministry challenges us to query and decode the evolution of proto-orthodox theology. Furthermore, the fact that the faction that strove to demote and replace the Jewish followers of Jesus as the authoritative custodians and interpreters of Jesus legacy also embraced the libel and made it into a central theological motif is intriguing. Although we may have deciphered the process that led to the emergence and growth of the anti-Jewish strand in the New Testament and in the noncanonical lore, the process that lead to the emergence and growth of the libel about ‘The Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death’, is quite is opaque to us. It is plausible that following Jesus’ death, accusations and rumors may have originated among his followers regarding the responsibility for his death. Whether fact, rumor or grounded on a pre-existing Essene template,864 the accusations against the Roman appointed ‘Jewish authorities’ may have been part of the folklore of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Furthermore, by appropriating the identity and lore of the Jewish descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers, Pauline believers internalized the resentment of these Jewish sectarians toward the ‘Judean authorities’ and made them their own. As these accusations or rumors migrated to the Gentile camp, Gentile believers started to feel and to express themselves as Jewish sectarians. As these Jewish sectarian rhetorical staples became part of the lore and self-perception of Gentile believers in Jesus they morphed, mutated and intensified. Gradually, Pauline believers, engaged in a resentful struggle for legitimacy and ascendancy with Jewish opponents within the Jesus movement, seem to have converted these appropriated Jewish anti-establishment claims and lore, into anti-establishment arguments within the Jesus movement. 431 Being strangers to the identity they had invaded-appropriated, and lacking the nuance, allegiance and affiliations inherent in kinship and in the Judean rhetoric they had internalized - Gentile believers poured their anger and resentment onto all Jews. Bundling oppressed and oppressors, a nation and its illegitimate rulers, is a shift that could occur only in a non-Jewish mind, alien to the events and to Judean socio-political reality. It should be no surprise that, bent on de-Judaizing the Jesus movement and alien to the tradition they were appropriating, the Pauline proto-orthodox literati and leaders told and remembered Jesus’ ministry from the perspective of an outsider, i.e., disconnected from its historical context. The shift from the martyrdom of a Jew at the hands of the Romans and their collaborators, to deicide by ‘the Jews,’ could only occur in a non-Jewish context. It is no surprise that the emergence and the expansion of the libel about ‘the responsibility of the Jews’ served the interests of the adversaries of the Jewish faction within the Jesus movement, and was promoted by them. As so often in this sad saga, slander is subservient to, and derivative of, sociotheological interests. The emergence of an almost perfect match between the agenda of the Pauline faction (the demotion of the Jewish followers of Jesus and the de-Judaizing of the Jesus tradition) and theology (the focus on Jesus’s death and on the Jewish responsibility for it) is intriguing. Is it a coincidence that the group that staged the takeover and the deJudaizing of belief in Jesus was also the group that embraced wholeheartedly the theme of the Jewish responsibility for Jesus’s death and made it a central theological tenet? Did the focus on Jesus’s death nurture attitudes that enabled and facilitated the de-Judaizing drive? Or was it the other way around? Either way, we can say that the gradual intensification in the ire against “the Jews” that we encounter in the New Testament, and the accompanying Pauline libel about the “Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death,” could not but support the Pauline drive to demote and delegitimize opponents who were Jews. Despite all said, the Pauline proto-orthodox drive to de-Judaize the Jesus movement is not tantamount to a conflict with Judaism. This observation stands even though with the passage of time, and loss of context, this distinction was lost - and Judaism came to be perceived as the enemy. Even 432 though literal readings of the canonical Gospels, embedded in a hegemonic Pauline proto-orthodox hermeneutic, yield Judaism as the adversary - the actual opponents seem to have been the descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers, and their Gentile sympathizers. The Responsibility for Jesus’ Death – Afterthoughts+ The anti-Jewish strand is unique in its longevity, complexity and scope. The ‘Jewish rejection of Jesus’ and the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death’ have been the oxen that have pulled the chart of traditional anti-Judaism. A national poll of American adults conducted in 2003 found that 25 percent of those surveyed accepted the statement, ‘Do you think that Jews were responsible for the death of Christ?’ as being ‘probably true.’ In a separate poll, the Anti-Defamation League’s 2002 survey, 26 percent said that Jews were responsible for the death of Jesus. Yearly surveys conducted since in the USA and in Europe, show no significant change in this sobering picture.865 Even though most modern-day believers in Jesus reject the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death,’ the libel and the prejudices and derivatives associated with it are still alive. Surveys instruct us that one in four American Christians, and one in five Europeans carry the libel in their hearts. Half of these respondents disclosed that they believe that today’s Jews are to be blamed for Jesus’ crucifixion. A host of corollary prejudices and stereotypes still loom large in people’s hearts and minds and are deeply embedded and engrained. The libel regarding the ‘Jewish responsibility for Jesus’ death’ stands on truncated logic, as exemplified by a couple of historical scenarios: During the WWII occupation of Europe, the Germans imposed draconian measures against any and all forms of dissent or subversion. Any activity that could potentially challenge the German occupation was harshly uprooted. During this period, the Germans ruled through appointed sympathizers and collaborators. Some among these imposed collaborators and their sympathizers among the populace participated, facilitated, enabled or were complicit in the deportation of ‘dissident and subversive’ intellectuals and politicians. They were also responsible for the deportation and eventual murder of hundreds of thousands of Jews in German death camps. 433 In these circumstances, is the statement that ‘the French,’ ‘the Belgians,’ the Deutch,’ or ‘the Italians’866 were responsible for the death of Jews, dissidents, and intellectuals in the German concentration camps’ accurate, meaningful? Similarly, during the turn of the era, the Romans imposed draconian measures against any and all forms of dissent or subversion throughout the empire. Any activity that could potentially challenge the Roman occupation was harshly uprooted. During this period, the Romans ruled through appointed sympathizers and collaborators. Some among these appointed collaborators may have participated, facilitated, enabled or might have been complicit in the death of Jesus. In these circumstances, the statement ‘some Jews were responsible for Jesus’ death’ may be technically true, but it is also disingenuous, manipulative, tendentious and unhelpful. Often, some of the truth is as reprehensible as a lie. In complex situations ‘truth’ is not necessarily ‘the whole truth.’ The incoherence of blaming the ‘Jews’ for Jesus’ death may be further illustrated by rendering ‘Americans’ culpable for the assassination of Joseph Smith (the prophet-founder of the Mormon faith). It is also not dissimilar to blaming ‘the French’ for the death of Joan D’Arc, blaming ‘the British’ for the deaths of Thomas Becket and Thomas More, blaming ‘the Hindus’ for the death of Mahatma Gandhi, blaming ‘the Greeks’ for the death of Socrates, or ‘the Muslims’ for the death of Hussayn bin Ali, just to name a few. Statements can be seemingly exact and nonetheless malicious and morally reprehensible. As stated earlier, the ‘authorities’ at the center of the controversy did not represent ‘the Jews;’ they were hated ‘puppet’ appointees imposed by foreign conquerors, not the legitimate leaders of the nation. Acts that may have been committed by them, or on their behalf, cannot be the responsibility of the people. Failing to clarify this context is disingenuous, at best. 434 Chapter 12 *Consequences Introduction About sacrosanct hatred The ancient background An unintended journey An edifice of incitement The post-canonical trajectory Afterthoughts Introduction+ All human communities are subject to the curse that underwrites journeys from rhetoric to genocide. Persistent disenfranchisement, de-legitimating and dehumanization of internal adversaries or external enemies leads to human right abuses at best, genocide at worst. Antisemitism is an emotional and intellectual predisposition that emerges following prolonged exposure to undifferentiated messages of ambivalence and hatred toward Jews and toward Judaism that are perceived to be legitimate, sanctioned and justified. The outward symptoms of antisemitism range from dislike to persecution, and from contempt and ambivalence to genocidal inclinations. The impact of the anti-Jewish strand on Christendom throughout the centuries is beyond the scope of this monograph. My limited excursions 435 beyond the fourth century have a limited goal; to explore the connection between the anti-Jewish strand of the early years and antisemitism. About sacrosanct hatred+ The Pauline penchant for extreme militancy seems to have emerged out of a conflation of multiple factors that exacerbated and intensified outcomes. The trajectory that infused these religious enthusiasts with unparalleled zeal may have started with the binary-dualistic worldview of the Jewish followers of Jesus. In line with other Jewish sectarians, they seem to have developed a militant anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric and may have perceived reality as a struggle between good and evil, light and darkness, right and wrong. When extricated from the original Jewish setting, where it was mitigated by tribal kinship and by the Judean penchant for self-criticism and self-chastisement, this worldview fueled a hyper-militant mindset among Gentiles. Furthermore, the Pauline outlook was forged in the heat of a protracted struggle over legitimacy and ascendancy within the Jesus movement, and in the midst of intermittent Roman persecution. This environment further intensified militant and exclusivist attitudes. Defensive reactions to claims by their adversaries may have also influenced the Pauline temperament: militancy may have evolved as compensation for the theological diversity, confusion, and ambiguity that characterized the various Gentile forms of belief in Jesus that surfaced following the Missions to the Gentiles. Moreover, ethical monotheism, the belief in one God that is benevolent, omnipotent and omniscient seems to engender, enable and facilitate the vilification of adversaries within, and of enemies without. Since tragedy, suffering, and strife may not be assigned to a benevolent God, it must originate in wrong beliefs, wicked minds or sinful souls. Moreover, ethical monotheists (Jews, Christians, and Muslims) tend to characterize warfare as a contest between good and evil; a struggle of the forces of light against the forces of darkness. Since the universe is the creation of a benevolent deity, the adversaries that ‘drag’ the ‘reluctant’ monotheist armies to a ‘just war’ must be on the side of evil. Therefore, ethical monotheists tend to demonize and vilify the enemy, before they feel justified to engage it. 436 The ancient background+ Tension and friction are inherent to human heterogeneity since times immemorial. Tensions between Judeans and other groups in the Roman and pre-Roman periods are an historical fact. Undeniably, frictions and conflicts between Judaism and other religious or ethnic communities were occasionally accompanied by anti-Judaic polemic. This is a normal byproduct of multi-cultural co-existence, commonplace when and where religious communities share a geographical and socio-political environment. Conflicts between Pagans and Judeans were not significantly different from conflicts involving other nations or ethnic groups. We encounter Greek and Roman authors who praise or criticize Judaism, alongside those who acclaim or denigrate other prominent nonRoman cultures. Indeed, ‘If we exclude the situation in Alexandria and the passage from Tacitus, which heavily depend on Alexandrian sources, we must conclude that Roman attitudes toward Jews and Judaism were much more positive than the traditional view would allow. One might even argue that the traditional view must be stood on its head.’867 There has been a persistent effort to further the view that hatred of Jews and of Judaism is old and endemic. However, the evidence for the existence of pre-Christian antisemitism is tenuous at best. There seems to be an enduring bias in New Testament scholarship that lowers the threshold to the existence of pre-Christian antisemitism. Tensions and conflicts between Judeans and other religious or ethnic groups have been often showcased as proof for the existence of ancient antisemitism. However, occasional anti-Judean outbursts and the existence of some pre-Christian anti-Judaic polemic do not amount to much more than inter-ethnical and inter-religious rivalry. An unintended journey868+ The Gestation of antisemitism - Not every human atrocity is the result of trajectories from rhetoric to Genocide. Nationalistic, xenophobic or cultural prejudice is present in many conflicts but may not be sufficient to qualify as genocidal polemic. Genocidal polemic or genocidal discourses 437 may emerge when prejudice, conjectural tensions or self-interest are reinforced by secular or religious delegitimizing narratives or ideologies. These perpetuate and exacerbate the antagonism and make it integral to the community’s mindset and emotional makeup. Long standing feuds do not become genocidal as long as they remain conjectural; as long as an ingrained secular or religious delegitimizing narrative is not present. We have seen that the attitudes of the Pauline leadership toward Judaism evolved through a complex sequence of layers and phases that oftenexhibited dynamics of symbiosis, interdependence, fusion, confusion, reinforcement, intensification, retrojection, and projection. Throughout a trajectory that encompasses seventeen hundred years, attitudes transited from inauspicious anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric from within the Jesus movement - to endemic antisemitism. • The anti-Jewish-establishment posturing of the Jewish followers of Jesus, with its characteristic militancy, extremism and intense fervor was harnessed by some Gentile believers to delegitimize the Jewish establishment of the Jesus movement - and became among them, establishment theology. • This seems to be how the Jewish followers of Jesus (‘The Jews’) became the target of their own Jewish anti-establishment discourse. This is how, claims like ‘we are the New Israel,’ ‘you have lost God’s favor,’ ‘you are no longer God’s chosen,’ ‘we are the new Zion’ characteristic and prevalent among Jewish sectarians became integral to Christian theology. • The drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus and the claim to the authority, the legitimacy, the identity, and heritage of the Jewish ‘founding fathers,’ emerged-out of the resentment toward the Jewish elite of the Jesus movement that had been brewing in the hearts of the non-Jewish majority since Paul’s days. • A gradual fusion and confusion of the conflict among Jews (about whether Jesus was the awaited messiah) with the conflict among believers in Jesus with Jewish, Gnostic, and Pagan inclinations and affiliations (about what belief in Jesus should be) facilitated the later misperception about the existence of a conflict between Judaism and Christianity. • First the misperception, and later the perpetuation, of a mythical conflict between the ‘synagogue and the Church’ were reinforced by the need, and 438 wish, to blur and veil the drive to de-Judaize belief in Jesus, and the demotion of those chosen by Jesus to be the custodians of his ministry. • The gradual diffusion and success of the Pauline legitimating myth of origins that claimed to vest them as the rightful custodians and interpreters of Jesus’ ministry and legacy intensified previous processes and accelerated the extrapolation and the externalization of the rhetoric that originated within the Jesus movement, onto all Jews and onto Judaism. • The canonization of texts originating, mostly, in Pauline communities and containing the polemic accompanying conflicts and tensions within the Jesus movement exacerbated and legitimated anti-Jewish attitudes and nurtured and facilitated the emergence of antisemitism. Modern believers in Jesus have attempted to shielded themselves from full introspection by categorizing antisemitism as marginal behavior. In fact, from the fifth to the twentieth century, antisemitism was nurtured, facilitated, enabled and sanctioned throughout Christendom by religious lore and by religious, cultural and political elites. 439 This progression had a wide array of consequences. It impacted the lives, the hearts, and the minds of hundreds of millions of people, Jews and Christians. It was nurtured, facilitated and enabled by an array of theological, cultural and emotional narratives, themes, concepts, attitudes and negative stereotypes that were engendered during the period we have surveyed. They include: 123456789- The Jews are responsible for Jesus’ death. The tribulations of the Jewish people are God's punishment for Jesus’ death and for their forfeiture of God’s favor. By their sinfulness and by rejecting Jesus, the Jews forfeited the covenant. By virtue of a new covenant, Christians replaced the Jews as God's people. The Jewish Bible (‘Old’ Testament) showcases the opaqueness and the stubbornness of the Jewish people and their faithlessness to God. The Jews are blind to the meaning of their own scriptures. By the time of Jesus' ministry, Judaism had ceased to be a living faith. The essence of Judaism is a restrictive and burdensome legalism. The New Testament religion — Christianity — emphasizes love; the Jewish Bible emphasizes legalism, justice, and a God of wrath. An edifice of incitement+ Excerpts from Martin Luther’s writings about Jews and Judaism provide us a glimpse into attitudes prevalent during the sixteenth century. Luther’s views showcase the troubling fact that otherwise profound and sensitive thinkers and theologians did harbor deep anti-Semitic feelings and contributed to the edifice of hate that concerns us. Furthermore, it is important to internalize the fact that variants of Luther’s views were embraced by many. Although there is no consensus about the impact, or the importance, of Luther’s views on Jews and on Judaism, the words of the founder of the Protestant movement are especially disheartening and are emblematic of views that were widely held at the time: 440 What shall we Christians do with this rejected and condemned people, the Jews? Since they live among us, we dare not tolerate their conduct, now that we are aware of their lying and reviling and blaspheming. If we do, we become sharers in their lies, cursing and blasphemy. Thus we cannot extinguish the unquenchable fire of divine wrath, of which the prophets speak, nor can we convert the Jews. With prayer and the fear of God we must practice a sharp mercy to see whether we might save at least a few from the glowing flames. We dare not avenge ourselves. Vengeance a thousand times worse than we could wish them already has them by the throat. I shall give you my sincere advice: First, to set fire to their synagogues or schools and to bury and cover with dirt whatever will not burn, so that no man will ever again see a stone or cinder of them. This is to be done in honor of our Lord and of Christendom, so that God might see that we are Christians, and do not condone or knowingly tolerate such public lying, cursing, and blaspheming of his Son and of his Christians. For whatever we tolerated in the past unknowingly and I myself was unaware of it will be pardoned by God. But if we, now that we are informed, were to protect and shield such a house for the Jews, existing right before our very nose, in which they lie about, blaspheme, curse, vilify, and defame Christ and us (as was heard above), it would be the same as if we were doing all this and even worse ourselves, as we very well know. In Deuteronomy 13:12 Moses writes that any city that is given to idolatry shall be totally destroyed by fire, and nothing of it shall be preserved. If he were alive today, he would be the first to set fire to the synagogues and houses of the Jews. For in Deuteronomy 4:2 and 12:32 he commanded very explicitly that nothing is to be added to or subtracted from his law. And Samuel says in I Samuel 15:23 that disobedience to God is idolatry. Now the Jews' doctrine at present is nothing but the additions of the 441 rabbis and the idolatry of disobedience, so that Moses has become entirely unknown among them (as we said before), just as the Bible became unknown under the papacy in our day. So also, for Moses' sake, their schools cannot be tolerated; they defame him just as much as they do us. It is not necessary that they have their own free churches for such idolatry. Second, I advise that their houses also be razed and destroyed. For they pursue in them the same aims as in their synagogues. Instead they might be lodged under a roof or in a barn, like the gypsies. This will bring home to them the fact that they are not masters in our country, as they boast, but that they are living in exile and in captivity, as they incessantly wail and lament about us before God. Third, I advise that all their prayer books and Talmudic writings, in which such idolatry, lies, cursing, and blasphemy are taught, be taken from them. Fourth, I advise that their rabbis be forbidden to teach henceforth on pain of loss of life and limb. For they have justly forfeited the right to such an office by holding the poor Jews captive with the saying of Moses (Deuteronomy 17:10) in which he commands them to obey their teachers on penalty of death, although Moses clearly adds: ‘what they teach you in accord with the law of the Lord.’ Those villains ignore that. They wantonly employ the poor people's obedience contrary to the law of the Lord and infuse them with this poison, cursing, and blasphemy. In the same way the pope also held us captive with the declaration in Matthew 16:18, ‘You are Peter,’ etc., inducing us to believe all the lies and deceptions that issued from his devilish mind. He did not teach in accord with the word of God, and therefore he forfeited the right to teach. Fifth, I advise that safe-conduct on the highways be abolished completely for the Jews. For they have no 442 business in the countryside, since they are not lords, officials, tradesmen, or the like. Let them stay at home. I have heard it said that a rich Jew is now traveling across the country with twelve horses his ambition is to become a Kochba devouring princes, lords, lands, and people with his usury, so that the great lords view it with jealous eyes. If you great lords and princes will not forbid such usurers the highway legally, someday a troop may gather against them, having learned from this booklet the true nature of the Jews and how one should deal with them and not protect their activities. For you, too, must not and cannot protect them unless you wish to become participants in their abominations in the sight of God. Consider carefully what good could come from this, and prevent it. Sixth, I advise that usury be prohibited to them, and that all cash and treasure of silver and gold be taken from them and put aside for safekeeping. The reason for such a measure is that, as said above, they have no other means of earning a livelihood than usury, and by it they have stolen and robbed from us what they possess. Such money should now be used in no other way than the following: Whenever a Jew is sincerely converted, he should be handed one hundred, two hundred, or three hundred florins, as personal circumstances may suggest. With this he could set himself up in some occupation for the support of his poor wife and children, and the maintenance of the old or feeble. For such evil gains are cursed if they are not put to use with God's blessing in a good and worthy cause.869 It is difficult to reconcile oneself to the coexistence, in the same soul, of the most exalted and the most reprehensible emotions and attitudes. The fact that the author of ‘On the Jews and Their Lies’ is the theologian that brought about the Reformation is especially discouraging for it epitomizes the split cognition that enabled, even in the most important and lofty Christian theologians, deep anti-Semitic attitudes. 443 The post-canonical trajectory+ Given the ingredients, the outcome is hardly surprising: the assault on Judaism intensified and became a central theme in Christian theology, liturgy and culture. The persecution of the Jews was officially sanctioned and sanctified by Christian rulers, theologians and clergy from the fifth century onward and was nurtured and justified by sacred lore. Since, sanctified hatred has sent the mobs countless times to vent their resentment and their frustrations on the Jewish minority. Anti-Jewish violence and hatred have been ignited by overt incitement and by subtle appeals to ingrained prejudices. There has not been a shortage of souls eager to understand the implicit, or explicit, message. The margins of human societies are populated by elements ever ready to unleash their frustration, anger, and resentment on defenseless minorities. When a minority is marginalized and disenfranchised by religious or political elites, a message of acquiescence to violence reaches our most troubled and violent souls. Sanctioned and sanctified hatred lead to atrocities at the bottom of the social pyramid. Elites have been aware of this ‘trickle down’ effect of incitement and have used it countless times for political gain and to release and misdirect tensions - while at the same time enjoy deniability. Historically, minorities have been targeted by elites intent on deflecting the frustration of the masses, and on offering a scapegoat to quell popular anger. Since times immemorial elites have knowingly and purposely unleashed the rage of the discontent on defenseless Jews and on other minorities. Genocides prior and after the Jewish Holocaust instruct us about the consequences of disenfranchising, delegitimizing or dehumanizing members of other national, religious or ethnic communities. The anti-Jewish bias that we have tracked throughout our survey was the precursor, the enabler and the facilitator of the endemic persecution endured by the Jewish people since the fifth century. From the fifth to the mid-twentieth century, the Jewish-Christian saga has had many highs and lows, within an overall context of cyclical and ingrained anti-Judaism. The Holocaust was a monstrosity of Nazi genesis, but it was nurtured, enabled and facilitated by the anti-Jewish sentiment embedded in the 444 tradition and by the marginalizing, the disenfranchisement, the disparagement, and the persecution of Jews and of Judaism that predated WWII. The persecution of the Jews throughout Europe has been intermittent in its historical scope, in its intensity and in its geographical spread. The deJudaizing of Europe between the reign of Theodosious and the tenth century is a silent ethnic cleansing that is largely unknown and unacknowledged. Of the 5-6 million Jews living in the Roman Empire at the dawn of the Christian Era, 1-3 million lived in Europe. By the tenth century, the Jewish population in the empire had plummeted to a meager remnant. The fate of the largest minority in the Roman Empire is largely unknown. How did they disappear? By what means was this achieved? The virulent anti-Jewish incitement pouring from all corners of European society does not leave much room for doubt as to the means. We must suspect that most were forced to convert, fled or worse. This silent disappearance has been largely erased from our historical memory, creating a vacuum that has enabled the myth about the later emergence of ‘modern antisemitism.’ Words can, and do, kill. Language, YHWH’s instrument of creation, is the most powerful weapon in the human arsenal. The causal chain that results in discrimination and genocidal violence begins with incitement, delegitimizing and disenfranchisement. From time immemorial, elites have mastered the art of incitement and sanctified hatred. The weak links in the societal chain often snap and act under the influence of those who write, preach and teach. While these ‘rotten apples’ sometimes pay the price for their actions, those who instigate and incite - are most often shielded. Protected by our distinction between speech and action, we prosecute surrogates and minions and protect the ‘free speech’ of the marketers of hate, shielding those guilty of incitement to hate crimes form accountability. The igniters, enablers and facilitators of Genocide do not do the killing – their surrogates and minions do. The scope and impact of fifteen centuries of the persecution of the Jews are beyond our ability to convey or grasp: at the high point of Solomon's kingdom, around 1000 BCE, some two million Jews lived in the Land of Israel. On the eve of the destruction of the Second Temple (70 C.E.), the 445 number of Jews in the Roman empire and the other diasporas reached a peak of about 4.5 million. Prof. Sergio Della Pergola an expert on Jewish demography, estimates that given an ideal hypothetical scenario, without Antisemitism, persecution, forced conversion, and assimilation, there would be approximately 100-120 million Jews in the world today. Right before the Holocaust the Jewish population was estimated at 16.5 million. Currently, the number of Jews is estimated at 13-20 million, depending on the definition of Jewish identity – whether religious or cultural. When a minority is disenfranchised, de-legitimated and de-humanized, genocide is in the air. Unfortunately, it was necessary for the hate train to reach its ultimate destination, before Christianity did awake and took notice. After the WWII ended and cinematographic evidence flooded the movie screens, ambivalence and silent acquiescence turned into a groundswell of guilt, empathy and support for the victims and for the survivors. Spearheaded by a small minority of courageous Christians who protected Jews during the WWII, the post Holocaust era has witnessed a great Christian leap, a great awakening of the Christian soul. Consequences – Afterthoughts+ Some scholars see first and second century Judaism and Christianity as proselytizing competitors. Others emphasize the need to sever the attraction to Judaism as the main thrust behind anti-Jewish attitudes among early believers in Jesus. As suggested earlier, the rejection of Judaism by most Gentile believers in Jesus and the rejection by the Jewish descendants of Jesus’ disciples and first followers of the many forms of Gentile belief in Jesus who surfaced following the Missions to the Gentiles, are the triggers of a protracted and bitter struggle about identity, legitimacy and authority that burst into the open during the early decades of the second century. Judaism, Gnosticism and Paganism were not participants in this struggle; they were the subjects of contention. This protracted conflict between followers of Jesus with varying degrees of Jewish, Pagan and Gnostic affinities, affiliations and inclinations engulfed the Jesus movement for several centuries and is the birth crucible and the precursor of Antisemitism. 446 However, the authors of the canonical and the authoritative texts did not intend, nor anticipate, the consequences of their campaign to de-Judaize belief in Jesus and to appropriate the identity and lore of Jesus’s disciples and first followers. These early Gentile believers in Jesus must be exonerated of anti-Semitic intent despite the fact that the anti-Jewish strand that emerged out of their challenge to the legitimacy of the character, beliefs and traditions of the founding fathers of the Jesus movement was the foundation, the precursor, and the enabler of what was to come. Moreover, ‘antisemitism’ is a nineteenth-century term associated with later socio-political realities and should not be applied retroactively. Therefore, and despite the heart’s ambivalence, we must exonerate the writers and the early compilers and editors of the canonical and the authoritative texts from anti-Semitic intent. However, our exoneration of the authors’ intent must note the fact that the intense emotions that characterized the protracted effort to de-Judaize belief in Jesus, gave birth to pre-anti-Semitic attitudes. The canonization of texts that embraced the anti-Jewish strand, and the misinterpretation by later believers of the anti-Judaic rhetoric that accompanied the foundational crisis within the Jesus movement - are the determining factors in the emergence of antisemitism. Without this component, the conflict would have run out of combustion and would have found its place among the many forgotten national, religious and ethnic struggles that do not disturb our sleep. It is first and foremost the sanctification and the legitimating of the anti-Jewish strand that have made antisemitism the longest lasting source of hatred the world has witnessed. Modern antisemitism is the consequence of seventeen centuries of delegitimization, dehumanization and persecution of the Jewish people by institutional Christianity is, the most frequent symptom of which are deeply ingrained derogatory stereotypes about Jews and Judaism. Despite several Catholic and Protestant statements, and despite decades of positive interreligious relationships and teachings aimed at rejecting antiJewish attitudes, the stereotypes associated with antisemitism survive and infect minds and hearts throughout the Christian world. According to a study commissioned by the American Anti-Defamation League, that 447 investigated attitudes and opinions towards Jews in more than 100 countries via 53,100 interviews, 11% of the population in the AngloSaxon and Scandinavian countries believe six or more anti-Jewish stereotypes. In Western Europe, 19% of adults in countries with Catholic or Protestant origins believe six or more anti-Jewish stereotypes. The Spanish-speaking world with more than 500 million inhabitants presents a special challenge since 29% of the inhabitants of the Spanishspeaking countries believe six or more anti-Jewish stereotypes. Considering that the Spanish-speaking world is mostly Catholic and taking into account that the Catholic Church has in recent decades fought antisemitism vigorously - the data is indicative of the difficulty of eradicating the impact of the anti-Jewish indoctrination of the previous seventeen centuries. The areas of influence of the Greek and Eastern Orthodox Churches, Greece, the Balkans, Eastern Europe and Russia are of even greater concern. The percentage of inhabitants that believe six or more anti-Jewish stereotypes being: Greece 69%, Poland 45%, Bulgaria 44%, Serbia 42%, Hungary 41%, Belarus 38%, Ukraine 38%, Russia 30%. The Muslim world, historically hospitable to Judaism but opposed to the creation of the state of Israel, has adopted, internalized and actively promoted stereotypes that originated in Cristian antisemitism. While Muslims are more likely to hold anti-Semitic views than members of any other religion (49% of people believe six or more anti-Jewish stereotypes), geography makes a big difference in their views. Muslims in the Middle East and North Africa are much more likely to harbor anti-Semitic attitudes (75%) than Muslims in Asia (37%), Western Europe (29%), Eastern Europe (20%), and Sub-Saharan Africa (18%). 448 Chapter 13 *The Present and the Future Introduction Catholics Protestants The dilemma The current outlook The road ahead Probing the divine enigma Introduction+ Since the end of the Second World War, Christianity has embarked on an admirable process of introspection regarding its Jewish roots and its attitudes toward Judaism. For the first time in human history, a religious community of great power and influence has entered a painful process of introspection, self-criticism and rediscovery. The depth and width of this Christian rethinking is awe-inspiring. This process is nothing short of paradigmatic,870 and will have great impact on how next generations of Christian believers will address the Jewish-Christian saga. The eradication of the anti-Jewish tendencies is but one dimension of this ongoing Christian introspection, that attempts to engage a variety of legacies that disturb modern believers (Antisemitism, slavery, racial and ethnic prejudice, colonialism, sexism, homophobia and religious persecution).871 Change has been most dramatic in the public arena, and in liturgy. 449 However, although the anti-Jewish strand is on the defensive, the battle is not over yet. Commitment and implementation vary significantly. Progress is not uniform throughout. Among academics, the recognition and the repudiation of the anti-Jewish invective in the New Testament872 have gained momentum, but the strand remains intact in the authoritative lore. At the dawn of the twenty first century, despite impressive initial momentum, we have a transition at a standstill, a liberation march at a pause. Unfortunately, the great liberating winds of the 1970s have subsided, and the opposition has succeeded in holding the battlefront short of irreversible change. Unless forward movement is reignited, heartfelt contrition could become a temporary palliative on our way to further harm. The Catholic Church, benefiting from a centralized organization, has made significant progress in engaging the anti-Jewish strand and has made substantial strides. Protestant denominations, with their great diversity, range from most progressive to the some of the least. The Greek and Eastern Orthodox Churches have been conspicuously ambivalent and minimalist in embracing, and implementing, the new trends. Whereas Catholics and Protestants have engaged the ‘Jewish question,’ the Greek and Orthodox Churches, dominant in Greece, the Balkans, eastern and south-Eastern Europe, and in the Middle East - have been rather vague and less engaged. The relative silence of the Greek and Eastern Orthodox Churches on the struggle against anti-Judaism in their midst, combined with the rise of xenophobic sentiment in their area of influence, are of grave concern. With a constituency that harbors deep anti-Semitic traditions, the Greek and Eastern Orthodox Churches have not displayed the courage of their western counterparts. Enjoying a post-Soviet religious renaissance, the Eastern Orthodox Church has not harnessed the will, or the courage, to engage the subject with enough focus and will. This neglect exacerbates traditional anti-Semitic currents in these countries and facilitates the stage for the current flare-up of anti-Jewish sentiment in their areas of influence. Weak or non-existent traditions of human rights and tolerance, economies in disarray, and ingrained antisemitism combine to set the stage for a disastrous outburst. 450 Many Christian leaders and thinkers have wrestled with the realization that the canonical texts include tendentious and biased polemic. The recognition that, although divinely inspired, sacred texts reflect the circumstances, agendas, shortcomings and flaws of their writers, is an epic shift. During the last six decades, many courageous theologians and scholars have been hard at work, and the fruits of their efforts are already with us. The annulment of the Deicide charge against all the Jews (Vatican II), expressions of regret and apology by various Popes since, and statements by Protestant denominations and by prominent Protestant theologians and scholars are welcome steps. At present, we encounter a mixed picture that includes important historical declarations, significant changes in attitudes, and a large array of halfway measures. Some declarations and statements are supersessionary and patronizing, adding insult to injury. Furthermore, ‘studies of Catholic and Protestant textbooks used in religious education courses in this country and in Europe… show that the teachings of the Second Vatican Council and parallel Protestant official statements have indeed had a positive impact on the way the New Testament and Jews and Judaism are presented in religious education programs on the local level.’873 Of most concern is the situation among some literalists who have self-segregated from mainstream academic research, and in the Eastern Orthodox Church. Overall, to the exclusion of the Eastern Church, the effort is impressive and unprecedented – but may prove to be insufficient. The jeopardy in which the Christian soul has found itself is the result of human choices, not of divine design. For some seventeen hundred years Christianity did understand itself to be the negation and the rejection of Judaism, a choice that was both discretionary and tragic. Anti-Judaism is not intrinsic to belief in Jesus. Reflection on alternative trajectories that were cut short may offer a source of inspiration on viable paths to a future without anti-Jewish bias. Torah-observance, the teachings of Jesus and the Gnostic insights were alternative Christian core beliefs that faded away under the militancy of the victorious Pauline faction. The diversity of 21st century Christianity, extensive as it is, is limited by the boundaries set by the faction that gained ascendancy. Much is to be gained by reclaiming ancient alternative perspectives on the ministry of Jesus of 451 Nazareth and by reflecting on the implications of early diversity on the validity of other paths to the divine. Re-connecting with the diversity of the second century may support the strengthening of theological edifices that do not depend on the antiJewish narrative. Recognition of the validity of other paths to salvation enables coexistence in respectful harmony with other communities of faith. Jewish-Catholic relations+ The Catholic Church has undergone a remarkable transformation and has marched at the forefront of the battle against its anti-Jewish past. This shift was facilitated by its hierarchical and centralized organizational structure, its ability to sequence decision-making and implementation, and its tradition of emphasis on liturgy over scripture: ‘To a greater extent than Protestant statements, Roman Catholic documents spell out the implications of theological statements on relations between Christians and Jews for education (catechesis), preaching, and liturgy. The Roman Catholic contention is doubtless correct that the actual ways in which prejudice against Jews was inculcated in generation after generation of Christians were through the liturgy, education, and preaching. If there is to be change, it will come not only at the level of theological pronouncement but in attending to liturgy, education, and preaching in local congregations.’874 At the Second Vatican Council, the Roman Catholic Church took the unprecedented step of taking a stand against anti-Judaism in its midst. In the ‘Declaration on the Relationship of The Church to Non-Christian Religions’ (Nostra Aetate) it affirmed that: ‘Although the Church is the new people of God, the Jews should not be presented as repudiated or cursed by God, as if such views followed from the Holy Scriptures. All should take pains, lest in catechetical 452 instruction and in the preaching of God’s word they teach anything out of harmony with the truth of the gospel and the spirit of Christ.’875 Despite the supersessionary emphasis of this statement, the overall momentum has been deflationary. Time will tell if this stand will weather internal opposition, given that a traditionalist backlash was already active and visible in Vatican II: ‘Second Vatican Council in Chapter 4 of the Declaration of the Relationship of the Church and non-Christian Religions …The final version runs: ‘All should take pains, then, lest in catechetical instruction and in the preaching of God's word they teach anything out of harmony with the truth of the gospel and the spirit of Christ.’ In the light of the conclusions of the present study it is unfortunate that this should have been the final formulation. For what 'the truth of the gospel' means with reference to the Jews is still a matter of dispute, and it is not clear what is the 'spirit of Christ' with which it seems very disparaging, biased, and condemnatory statements by Christians about Jews can be made compatible. It would have been clearer for Christian theology—which has to speak of Christ—if the penultimate version of this statement had been allowed to stand: 'All should take pains, then, lest in catechetical instruction and in the preaching of God's word they teach anything which might rouse hatred or contempt for the Jews in the hearts of the faithful.’876 In 1988, the United States Catholic Bishops Committee for Ecumenical and Inter-religious relations published a pamphlet, ‘Criteria for the Evaluation of Dramatizations of the Passion.’ This pamphlet stresses that passion plays should not stereotype Jewish people. It also recommends avoiding casting confrontational scenes between Jews and Jesus. According to the pamphlet, Jews should be portrayed accurately, sensitively and positively. The Catholic Church today calls for great 453 caution in all presentations of the passion, to ensure that they not nurture anti-Semitic attitudes or behavior. Protestants+ Reinhold Niebuhr, a leading American Protestant theologian and one of the foremost exponents of American Neo-orthodoxy, was among the first to place the responsibility for antisemitism on the Christian lap: ‘It is a problem that Hitler did not create but only aggravated.’ Niebuhr’s pathbreaking and lifelong support for Jewish causes has had an enduring positive impact on the Neo-Orthodox view of Jews and of Judaism. Some of Niebuhr’s disciples and younger fellow Neo-Orthodox theologians were among the first supporters of his diagnosis of the malignancy, an admirable and courageous stand at the time. Roy Eckardt, Niebuhr’s disciple and for many years Chairman of the Department of Religion at Leigh University, went further than most in identifying the sources of Christian antisemitism. Eckardt saw the Holocaust as deriving from Christian teaching about Jews: ‘To shut my eyes at the anti-Semitic proclivities of the Christian scripture is indefensible.’877 Frank H. Littell, Methodist Minister, historian and Professor of Religion at Temple University:878 ‘No one can be a true Messiah whose followers feel compelled to torture and destroy other human persons who think differently…The murder of six million Jews by baptized Christians, from whom membership in good standing was not (and has not yet been) withdrawn, raises the most insistent question about the credibility of Christianity.’879 Paul M. van Buren, whose Theology of the JewishChristian Reality is a landmark in the Christian selfexamination of its relationship toward Judaism:880 454 ‘Precisely the point of hesitation in the orthodox doctrine of the cross, the inability to go so far as to say that God was directly, personally, and immediately involved in the suffering of Jesus becomes unbearable when we reflect on the suffering of the Jewish men, women, and children in the Holocaust. If God was not there, suffering with his people, if God did not suffer a loss there at least as painful as that suffered on Golgotha, then that God is not worthy of respect by moral persons.’881 Norman Beck has postulated the most far-reaching changes, including a new translation and interpretation of the New Testament:882 ‘If we will take seriously the statements of Christian groups such as the World Council of Churches since 1948, the Lutheran World Federation and the House of Bishops of the Protestant Episcopalian Church since 1964, the Second Vatican Council of the Roman Catholic Church since 1965, the Lutheran Council in the U.S.A. since 1971, and The American Lutheran Church since 1974, we will repudiate the defamatory anti-Judaic polemic of the New Testament not only in word but also in deed.’883 For Protestant denominations, decentralized and focused on scripture, change is difficult to achieve: ‘Most evangelical Christians are attempting to divorce themselves and their communities from anti-Jewish and anti-Semitic inclinations, without negating supersession and proselytizing. Due to the fact of the centrality of the incarnation and the cross for any possibility of salvation, evangelical Christians believe that the Church must continue to evangelize – even to the Jews. Nonetheless, evangelical Christians are exercising more care and awareness in how they express the gospel and in how they speak of Judaism.’884 455 ‘Recent studies of anti-Judaism in Christian preaching find that it persists in strength in contemporary Christian preaching, particularly among Protestants. Other studies conclude that anti-Judaism is learned in church, specifically that laity learn it there from clergy and teaching staff… Much of traditional Christian antiJudaism persists in the liturgy, hymns, and services of the church. A particular point of liturgical difficulty surrounds the services held in Holy Week, specifically on Palm Sunday and Good Friday. In planning worship services for Holy Week, pastors should take advantage of all the benefits of recent scholarship pertaining to the events of the last week in the life of Jesus.’885 The dilemma+ For almost two thousand years Christianity defined itself with the help of a Jewish mirror. Many scholars and theologians are hard at work to define a positive Christian theology, devoid of its anti-Jewish scaffold. Replacing the ‘over and against’ language of Christianity with a positive theology that would let go of the anti-Jewish prosthesis is still a work in progress that encounters a traditionalist backlash. The cultural, ethnic and religious diversity of the interconnected twenty first century seems to favor a multi-covenant perspective. Two thousand years after James’ blessing of a separate and valid mission to the Gentiles, Christianity is re-evaluating its turning away from the recognition and embrace of diversity. Awakening to the existence and to the pervasiveness of the anti-Jewish bias in the sacred lore and in the authoritative tradition has been a slow process. Encountering the vicious virulence of the post-Apostolic period is traumatic and sobering for most Christians: ‘As always, the victims remember; the victors forget. Consequently, when Christians begin to absorb some of this hidden history, there is at first great incredulity. It seems impossible that all this could have happened for 456 so long, and we never heard of it! Our history books did not mention it! The line, here and there, that touched on it went unnoticed by us, unstressed by our teachers.’886 ‘The Holocaust and the re-founding of the State of Israel have opened some startled theological eyes, but in general theology has gone on as if nothing had happened. Now Rosemary Ruether has posed in all its sharpness what must surely become the theological question for Christians of our generation. ‘Possibly anti-Judaism is too deeply embedded in the foundations of Christianity to be rooted out entirely without destroying the whole structure.’ It may be that the church will survive if we fail to deal adequately with that question, but more serious is the question whether the church ought to survive. A Christian Church with an anti-Semitic New Testament is abominable, but a Christian Church without a New Testament is inconceivable. Many would add that a New Testament without the Christ-event as its material center and the Pauline corpus as its formal center would not be the New Testament at all.’887 ‘No longer is it a case of the illegitimacy of Judaism. Unless they succeed in finding within the New Testament some area which is substantially free of antiJudaism, the issue becomes the illegitimacy of Christianity.’888 if ‘we leave unchallenged and do not wipe out the tradition of anti-Judaism which we have inherited, we shall have failed those who will follow us. Whatever we say about the roots and rise of that tradition, we today — after 1945 — can no longer continue it.’889 457 ‘Is The New Testament so wholly contaminated by antiJewish prejudice as to lose all moral authority? Can Christian theologians find a satisfactory way of expressing the salvic meaning of the great symbols of their faith that possess religious power, without lapsing into the anti-Jewish overtones of the past?’890 Many theologians and scholars are still reluctant to connect the antiJewish legacy of the early Christian texts, which some have come to acknowledge, with the later development of a culture of incitement and persecution. Although the evidence for this genealogy is well attested in the vast literature that we have surveyed – most are stalling at crossing the Rubicon. The ‘dots’ representing the evidence that connects sanctified denigration, disenfranchisement and incitement to antisemitism have been ‘out there’ for many centuries. However, ‘connecting the dots’ seems to require a leap of insight that is difficult to attain from within a hegemonic religious mindset. The current status+ The second half of the 20th century was an eventful period for New Testament research (The discoveries at Nag Hammadi and the Judean desert. The Dead Sea Scrolls, the rediscovery of Jesus the Jew, and of the various second century strands of belief in Jesus). The second half of the 20th century was also a turning point for Christian attitudes toward Judaism (The Holocaust, the rebirth of the State of Israel and Vatican II). To a large extent, the impact of these events is still unfolding, and our current understanding of them may be transitional. A significant number of Christian congregations have explicitly divested the supersessionist outlook, a crucial and positive course. The earliest declarations: ‘The singular grace of Jesus Christ does not abrogate the covenantal relationship of God with Israel (Rom. 11:12). In Christ, the Church shares in Israel's election without superseding it.’ Joint Catholic Protestant Statement to Our Fellow Christians, 1973 458 ‘Jesus came not to destroy the Covenant of God with the Jews, but to affirm it in a manner that would bring the blessing of God's people to non-Jews, also.’ 1977 Mennonite European Regional Conference ‘The church's claim to be the sole, New Israel of God can in no way be based on the Bible.’ 1967 Belgian Protestant Council on Relations Between Christians and Jews ‘We reject the position that the covenant between the Jews and God is dissolved with the coming of Christ.’ 1982 Texas Conference of Churches ‘We affirm that the church, elected in Jesus Christ, has been engrafted into the people of God established by the covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Therefore, Christians have not replaced Jews.’ 1987 General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A) ‘Although the church, already in the New Testament, applied to herself several promises made to the Jewish people she does not supersede the covenant people, Israel.’ 1977 Central Board of the Swiss Protestant Church Federation The realization that no religion can be understood through the polemic against it, that religious narratives are self-contained universes, and that theologies are self-confirming and self-referential discourses - is slowly gaining ground. Traditional views about Judaism are now less prevalent among Christian theologians, scholars and clergy. There is a growing awareness that Judaism is to be studied and understood from within, not through external polemical prisms and mirrors. The momentum seems to be on the side of those working for a true Judeo-Christian ethos. Progress among theologians and scholars has been the strongest. However, the 459 great strides made in these matters in the theological and scholarly arenas seem to have stalled at the gates of lay ears and hearts: ‘Despite decades of positive interfaith relations and teachings aimed at rejecting the notion of Jewish guilt in the Crucifixion, surveys over the last four decades have found that the question about ‘deicide’ has remained constant – at about 25 percent of the population. Previous ADL surveys on antisemitism in America have found that while the overall level of antisemitism has steadily declined since 1964, reaching historic lows in the late 1990s, the number of Americans who accept that ‘the Jews killed Christ’ has remained virtually unchanged over a span of four decades.’891 ‘…the documents that record ecclesial rethinking are typically prosaic and often characterized by excessive caution and ‘church-speak.’ Consequently, they are largely unknown, and their impact on the life of the church all too minimal. If the teaching of the Catholic Church on issues of social justice is ‘our best kept secret,’ Catholicism's rethinking of its relationship with Judaism is equally unknown. Nor are Protestants any more aware of the reassessment in their own denominations.’892 Indeed. For the most part, clergy are seen as promoters and protectors of cherished truths and traditions, not as heralds of newly found ones. Thus, pastors seldom step ahead of their congregations for fear of finding themselves ahead, and alone. 460 The road ahead+ Christianity is a religion of faith, love, grace, salvation, and redemption. The vast majority of believers in Jesus have no anti-Jewish or anti-Semitic inclinations. Furthermore, many of today’s believers in Jesus consider Jews to be God’s chosen people and have but the warmest attitudes toward them. Therefore, it is intriguing, perplexing, and noteworthy that most are unaware of the deep and pervasive presence of the anti-Jewish strand in their theology, culture, and lore. The implicit and explicit crescendo of anti-Jewish polemic that accompanies the tradition seems to elude the ears and hearts of most believers, despite lifetimes of exposure to the disparagement and to the vilification of Judaism, its customs, and traditions. For most, whose life in Christ is one of loving kindness and mercy, awakening to the anti-Jewish bent that permeates the canonical and authoritative lore is a troubling and disconcerting experience. Decades ago, Reinold Niebur in his ‘Moral man and Immoral society’ did attempt to wrestle with the vexing dissonance between the high ethics of individuals, and the often-troubling collective behavior of groups. The purity and innocence of individual belief, on the one hand, and the loss of the ethical compass by institutional religion on the other - are hard to reconcile. Will the current approach of gradual declarations, and creative reinterpretation be enough to keep the anti-Jewish legacy at bay? Are we leaving behind the seeds of recurrence? Aware of past cycles of recurrence, we must be concerned that the current spirit of tolerance could be a temporary lull - not permanent, positive, and irrevocable change. History teaches us that when root causes are not eradicated, recurrence is the rule rather than the exception. Since the anti-Jewish strand lays untouched in the canonical lore, given the cyclical and recurring nature of the anti-Jewish phenomenon, and given the human propensity to fall prey to discourses of incitement – we must reach the somber assessment that despite great strides, recurrence is still the probable outcome. If the anti-Jewish strand remains in the texts, Jews will not be free from the specter of anti-Semitic recurrence, and Christians will not be free from its malevolent influence. 461 Although religions are self-referential discourses that do not require external validation, and Torah observance and the covenant between the Israelites and their God are not subject to validation by non-Jews, the anti-Jewish strand embedded in the Christian lore requires our attention and demands our concern. While many scholars, clergy, theologians and lay believers repudiate antiJewish attitudes, the texts that harbor the anti-Jewish strand, and have nurtured and enabled anti-Jewish attitudes, remain intact. Many, considering the difficulties ahead, find themselves incapable of moving from symbolic declarations to the cleansing phase of extrication. Some fear that the dependency is too great, that the malignancy is intertwined with vital theological tissue, that extrication would endanger the theological and emotional core of belief in Jesus. N Beck has instructed us that cleansing the theological dependency on anti-Judaism requires three stages: recognition, repudiation and extrication. Progress has been greatest in the declaratory and symbolical areas of recognition and repudiation. As necessary, the first changes were at the symbolic, declarative and doctrinal levels. Most, misguidedly, hope that repudiation and creative re-interpretation will suffice. The frontlines have been slowly and painstakingly closing-in on the core issue of the appropriateness of the anti-Jewish strand as a sacred motif. Extrication remains the greatest challenge. The current re-evaluation of Christian attitudes toward Judaism has not resulted in uniform and monolithic change. The fragmentation and the diversity of modern Christianity guarantee painstakingly slow progress. This diversity implies that different segments of the Christian fleet will choose different paths and will travel at different speeds. Change will be gradual and hard fought. The effort to eradicate the anti-Jewish strand from Christian lore, if embraced, would be a gradual and protracted process too. Although many scholars and theologians are engaged in the effort to define a positive Christian theology, free from the anti-Jewish scaffold, the great excitement of the first phase has subsided, while the most difficult tasks are still ahead. The challenges ahead are daunting, the stakes are great., and a unique window of opportunity may be closing. As the Christian generation that witnessed and was burdened by the Holocaust 462 leaves the world stage, the impetus for change is losing momentum – without having reached irreversible closure. As time passes, there are fewer and fewer people alive carrying the Holocaust in their hearts, minds and consciences. Without the sense of urgency that characterized the post-Holocaust era, it will be difficult to gather the momentum needed to bring about further change. In these circumstances, the advantage goes to the ingrained-incumbent-traditional narrative. The fact that disparagement, abuse, dismissal, and trespassing have been deemed appropriate for the exhortation, edification, and inspiration of the faithful is hard to accept or comprehend. Antisemitism, acknowledged by one in eight Americans and Europeans, and unknown numbers worldwide - is a ticking bomb that must be addressed. At the dawn of the twenty-first century, mainstream scholarship and most believers have turned away from traditional views on Jews and Judaism. The view that a proselytizing struggle between turn of the era Judaism and early Christianity may have been the main generator of anti-Jewish attitudes among early Gentile believers in Jesus seems to be espoused by many (the competitive thesis). Scholars who embrace this model often describe anti-Judaism as the consequence of excessive militancy by the more aggressive and vigorous proselytizer; the result of hypercompetitiveness gone awry. A variant of this competitive thesis or model sees the attraction of some turn-of-the-era Gentiles to Judaism as the main generator of anti-Jewish sentiment among early Gentile believers. Under this construct, attraction to Judaism infuriated Gentile leaders and intellectuals and fueled the antiJewish fervor that is embryonic in the canonical lore and permeates the authoritative texts thereafter. We now know that prior to the fourth century, there were believers that advocated differing views about what belief in Jesus was, or should be. Therefore, we need internalize the fact that all these believers understood themselves to be the only ‘true’ Christians and viewed their adversaries’ beliefs as heretical, misguided, or inadequate. The re-discovery of the diversity of the early Jesus movement requires the retroactive legitimating of all interpretations of Jesus’ ministry. The implications of this early 463 diversity and of the re-placement of the origins of the Jewish-Christian saga within the Jesus movement, are the main themes of this monograph. Each of the meta-narratives or models that attempt to characterize the socio-theological background of the first centuries of belief in Jesus; the traditional thesis, the competition thesis of Simon,893 and the thesis suggested in this monograph, have implications of great importance and scope for the future of both religions. The future of Judeo-Christian relations and the future of the Christian self-perception depend on which meta-narrative on the Christian origins and on Jewish-Christian relations will be eventually embraced, taught and internalized by institutions and believers. The debate about whether the deprecation of Judaism that permeates the canonical and the authoritative texts is historically, theologically and ethically justifiable, and whether it is an appropriate theme and component of sacred lore, needs to remain at the forefront of the debate. The danger to the Christian soul and to Jewish lives dictates a sustained and decisive approach. We should not wait for the future to unfold to find out whether the current approach was sufficient and effective. As long as a delegitimizing narrative is available to nurture the fire, the ever-present danger may resurface when the circumstances are propitious. The anti-Semitic monster may burst out again, should a new generation of marketers of hate gain hold of the Christian soul once more. As we wait for the future to unfold, many Jews and some Christians fear that the cancer may recur during periods of instability and anxiety, when the societal immune system is at a low point. Twenty first century believers in Jesus yearn for a personal connection with the divine and for a life in harmony with Jesus’ teachings. Many modern Christians shy away from the old agendas and stereotypes, and seek a life grounded in a post-historical Jesus. Inner spiritual search has replaced traditional affiliation and adherence to dogma. Many have actively distanced themselves from supersessionist-exclusivist-adversarialtriumphalist elements. Many have embraced a post-dogmatic faith that centers on Jesus’ message of unconditional love and on belief in Jesus’ death for the sins of the world. Thanks to worldwide efforts by the Catholic Church and by most Protestant denominations, Judeophobia is 464 in retreat from the public arena, and, hopefully, from the hearts and minds of clergy and lay believers in the West. The great gains of the last forty years have enabled a return to normality and improved security for the Jewish people. A process of healing and rehabilitation from multi-generational trauma is under way. An increasing number of Christians are Judeo-Christian in inclination and emotional predisposition. However, most have not ‘gone, yet, the extra mile.’ Only absolute respect for the ‘otherness’ of other cultures and religious traditions, extrication of the anti-Jewish strand from the sacred texts, and the divestiture of claims to exclusivity of access to salvation and to the divine - may foster the advent of a ‘Judeo-Christian’ age. A true JudeoChristian ethos can only come about through an encounter of mutual respect between two independent, legitimate and equally valid dispensations - free from the specter of the anti-Jewish strand, and supersession theology. Sacred scriptures are the depositories of our collective engagement with the divine as understood through the fog of human imperfections and limitations. Imperfect hearts and minds can only produce imperfect vehicles of faith. Therefore, it is not surprising that believers were involved in religious debates, that tempers flared, and that the literature we surveyed was written. It is, however, deeply disappointing and troubling that religious leaders sanctified, exacerbated, and perpetuated the attitudes and emotions that accompanied the contentious evolution of belief in Jesus. For almost two millennia anti-Jewish attitudes were nurtured, deemed worthy, and edifying. The consequences of the unintended journey that ensued are sobering, their scope difficult to grasp. In the past, believers could rightly claim innocent ignorance about the existence and the consequences of the anti-Jewish strand. However, twenty-first-century theologians, religious leaders, and believers seem to be poised to determine for all times, by action or by default, whether the anti-Jewish strand that lies dormant in their tradition reflects the spirit of God or the human shortcomings and imperfections of the authors and editors of the texts. Ultimate responsibility rests with those who write, teach and preach.894 It is the religious, intellectual and power elites of the 465 past that stand accused as we contemplate the consequences of the antiJewish turn in early Christianity. The past is their burden. On the other hand, it is the religious, intellectual and power elites of the present who must contemplate the future consequences of preserving the anti-Jewish strand in the canonical lore. The future is their burden. The Present and the Future – Afterthoughts+ We have noted that most of today’s believers are not aware that the canonical and the authoritative literature harbors an anti-Jewish strand. Most are not aware of its impact on how believers in Jesus have thought and felt about Jews and about Judaism. The realization that their sacred literature may be contaminated by an anti-Jewish strand is a traumatic surprise to most modern-day believers in Jesus. One characteristic of derogatory discourses is that they become invisible to those within the culture. Becoming aware to captivity to a reigning paradigm, and exorcising its hegemony, requires awareness to the fabric of our consciousness and tests the limits of our intellect and our emotional fiber. We live within meta-narratives whose underpinnings we seldom ‘see’ and rarely question. For the most part, cognitive templates emerge, are preserved, and are nurtured without the conscious awareness of its constituents. This peculiar phenomenon may be illustrated by an anecdote. During the 1970s N. Beck, with whom I share the experience of an unintended encounter with the anti-Jewish strand, was given the assignment of investigating whether the New Testament contained a systemic antiJewish bias. Up to that moment, despite graduate studies in theology and a lifetime of belief in Jesus, Prof. Beck had not ‘seen’ the anti-Jewish strand – showcasing the phenomenon of our blindness to hegemonic narratives. Following his research and the presentation of his conclusions, Beck authored his influential Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament. The suffering of the Jews during the last fifteen hundred years cannot be overstated. However, little has been said about the ‘collateral’ damage of this malignancy: its impact on the souls of millions of Christians. Throughout the ages the anti-Jewish narrative has not only victimized 466 Jews and Judaism; it has also victimized the Christian soul. The impact of the anti-Jewish strand on the Christian soul may be the untold story within this saga: ‘Ultimately, we might even say inevitably, those in positions of power and authority won out. And in the process they painted a depressingly negative picture of their opponents—in this case of Jews and of those whom we might call the Christian friends of Judaism. All of us, I fear, have been victimized by the consequences of their victory. But at the same time, as I have tried to argue in this paper, that victory need not be final. For all of us it may still be possible—many centuries after the initial victory—to hear the full debate and to decide for ourselves who the winners are and who the losers.’895 The Jewish-Christian tale is a case study of enthusiasm gone awry, of militancy turned genocidal. The processes that underwrite the journey from rhetoric to genocide are not unique to the Jewish-Christian relationship. We have already noted that persistent and undifferentiated disenfranchisement, de-legitimating and de-humanizing of internal adversaries or of external enemies lead to human right abuses at best, genocide at worst. These potential ethical failures threaten all human communities, nations and religions. At the dawn of the 21st century we hear the drumbeat of religious and xenophobic acrimony emanating from various corners of the globe. We must not allow our ancestral narratives, fitted for a clannish, tribal and religiously exclusivist world, to dominate our lives in the multi-religious, multi-ethnic and multi-national world of the 21st century. On the other hand, it is important not ‘to equate modern, racial antisemitism, the genocidal ideology of Nazism, with the ancient Christian teaching of contempt for Jews and Judaism. While the latter can be said to have paved the way for the former, they are qualitatively different. The latter led to force conversions, ghettos and all too frequent massacres of Jews throughout European history, but it never conceived of the idea of genocide as such.’896 467 Unintended journeys to ethical dead-ends often start from inauspicious beginnings, and end at troublesome shores. I have suggested that genocide is at the door when the disenfranchisement and the dehumanization of internal adversaries or external enemies merge with a secular or religious de-legitimating narrative. The social fabric fractures following prolonged exposure to undifferentiated messages of ambivalence and hatred that are perceived to be sacrosanct, legitimate, sanctioned and justified. Furthermore, periods of crisis and uncertainty bring to the surface fears and anxieties that are easily channeled against scapegoats, and adversaries within or enemies without. During the last 50 years, the blunt and overt anti-Jewish incitement that used to emanate from the altars and from the pulpits has been significantly de-legitimized. This retreat is a valuable tactical achievement but is not a strategic victory: although the anti-Jewish strand is dormant or in remission - it has not been eliminated. The long and painful journey of introspection set in motion by the Holocaust is still unfolding. Christians worldwide were appalled at what happened ‘under their watch.’ The ethical earthquake generated by the impact of the Holocaust should reverberate in Christian minds, hearts and souls until the root causes are identified, eradicated and extricated. History teaches us that temporary lulls are not signs of irreversible change. Unless the breeding grounds are thoroughly cleansed, the past will recur. Sustainable change will require addressing the theological and cultural sources that sustain and nurture anti-Jewish attitudes and sentiment. Whether extricating the anti-Jewish strand from the Christian soul will require its extrication from the Christian textual heritage is a daunting question for 21st century believers in Jesus. My deep admiration for the sincere and awe-inspiring efforts of the last 40 years and my awareness of the excruciating difficulties ahead, do not change the fact that Jewish lives (and the Christian soul) remain at risk. Although the anti-Jewish mindset has been weakened, the hosts of hate have not been eradicated - they have been partially subdued. This grave danger to the Christian soul and to Jewish lives dictates a decisive stand. Without it, the troublesome footprint of resentment toward adversaries that were Jews will continue to reverberate and point in the wrong 468 direction. As long as the anti-Jewish narrative is available to nurture the fire, this ever-present danger may resurface, as exemplified by the four cycles of anti-Jewish recurrence surveyed earlier. We must acknowledge that the ‘unintended journey’ of early Gentile believers in Jesus will remain somewhat veiled and opaque. However, within the possible outcomes, the proposition that the anti-Jewish strand originated in a struggle between followers of Jesus with Jewish, Gnostic and Pagan inclinations and affiliations is deflationary. If explored further and found worthy, this meta-narrative may contribute to reduce the tragic and harmful impact that the anti-Jewish strand has had on the reading and understanding of the authoritative texts. Probing the divine enigma+ The rivers of human faith probe the divine enigma. Great civilizations have risen and fallen in the fertile valleys nurtured by them. Whereas civilizations have been adversarial, self-centered and self-referential, we seem to have arrived at a crossroad that may open new horizons. Humanity has slowly and painfully traveled from ethnocentric ancestral myths to an emerging awareness of the equivalence of all humans, and of the legitimacy of multiple paths to the divine. The realization that the religious fountains that nurture our souls and our communities are part of one universal spiritual quest, comes from our increasing awareness of a shared human destiny. However, the rivers of faith we currently see and experience, are no longer pristine, serene and vital. The vitality of these rivers has been compromised by the debris of past human conflicts and by the pollution of their waters in the upstream of history. Boulders and debris from the historical upstream cause most of the rivers’ turbulence. When the rivers flood; the debris becomes deadly. Pollutants originating in the historical upstream are poisoning the rivers’ inner life. This current state is not a natural, necessary or preordained outcome; it is the result of millennia of contamination. Human imperfections and human shortcomings have brought our rivers of faith to their current state. This is a reversible human-made situation. 469 Judaism and Christianity originate in countless springs and tributaries, some of which we share in strange and often tragic ways. Regardless of differing understandings of how we got here, our destinies are intertwined. For centuries, our tragic saga was perceived as preordained, inevitable. We now have a better understanding of how we arrived at this juncture. We have a better understanding of the causes for the recurring floods, the reasons for the rivers’ turbulence and for the pollution of their waters. We can take control of our future and avoid the tragic floods that have periodically devastated our communities and our souls. Human progress has brought us to the threshold of a new paradigm where selfperpetuating orthodoxies and dogmas are crumbling under the impact of uncensored inquiry. We now know that our life-sustaining rivers carry troublesome residues originating in the historical upstream. The debris and the pollution are not their essence; they are their curse. By extricating the debris, and by good works, we can gradually clean up past pollution and prevent further contamination. Cleaning up the debris and the pollution of ancient conflicts will restore the rivers to their natural and majestic state. A dam of fellowship at their upstream would keep recurring floods out of our lives. Sixty years have passed since the last great flood. Complacency has settled in. We have done a reasonable job at the downstream, but we have failed to extricate the boulders and the debris at the upstream. We may be squandering a temporary reprieve and making tragic recurrence inevitable. We must extricate the debris from our socio-theological upstream and rejoice anew in the majestic flow of a serene, positive, self-assured and forward-looking encounter with the divine enigma. Journeys of inquiry into our tragic past are emotionally difficult for all involved. We do share a disturbing past about which we can do little and a future that is up to us. Let’s be inspired by the great minds on whose shoulders we stand; the courageous theologians and scholars that have led the way in the effort to cleanse their lore and faith from the debris of an unintended journey, and from the all-too human imperfections of its authors and past interpreters. 470 Critique, commentaires, and dialogue at jchrelationsfirstcenturies@gmail.com 471 472 ➢ *Teaching Highlights+ 8888 PG. A. Preview – The Thesis B. The arguments within the Jesus movement 25 F. The Protagonists 29 K. My Paul 80 L. New Testament and Qumran 87 21 M. The James enigma- Torah observance 93 N. A growing tension - The Gentile dilemmas 117 O. 121 Q. Categories of anti-Judaism My Mark R. My Matthew 151 S. Marcion and Luke/Acts 158 U. My Hebrews 225 W. Delegitimizing the disciples X. Theology gone awry 139 367 305 473 b. Challenging Unassailable Legitimacy 372 c. Projection onto Judaism 374 d. About Judaizing 380 e. An Elusive Jewish Response 384 f. Evolution of Jewish-Christian Relations 389 i. Polemic in The New Testament – Summary 329 k. The post Constantine era 405 m. The Responsibility for Jesus’ Death 419 n. Consequences 435 o. The Present and the future 449 474 ➢ *Bibliographies of important topics The synoptic problemMark and the Disciples – Mark’s incomprehension motif The Jewish followers of Jesus Who Killed Jesus Appropriating the Jewish Scriptures – The parting of the waysSupersessionThe myth of Jewish proselytizingBirkhat Haminim: the benediction against the hereticsAdversus Judaeos literature----------------The synoptic problem On present state of synoptics research: Burkett Delbert Rethinking the Gospel Sources: From Proto-Mark to Mark (2004); Burkett Delbert The Unity and Plurality of Q (2009); Foster Paul, Gregory Andrew, Kloppenborg John S. and Verheyden Joseph eds. New Studies in the Synoptic Problem BETL, vol. 239 (2011); Sim David Matthew and the Synoptic Problem Foster Paul, Gregory Andrew, Kloppenborg John S. and Verheyden Joseph eds. New Studies in the Synoptic Problem BETL, vol. 239 (2011); Arnal William The Synoptic Problem and the Historical Jesus NSSP (2011) 371-432; Foster Paul, Gregory Andrew, Kloppenborg John S. and Verheyden Jozef eds. New Studies in the Synoptic Problem (2011); Becker Eve-Marie and Runesson Anders eds. Mark and Matthew I and II: Comparative Readings: Reception History, Cultural Hermeneutics, and Theology (2011, 2013). The papers in the first volume focus on the two gospels in their first century settings. The papers in the second volume focus on the reception history of these two gospels; Kloppenborg John S Synoptic Problems: Collected Essays WUNT, vol. 329 (2014); Goodacre Mark The Farrer Hypothesis and Farrer Hypothesis Response in Stanley E. Porter and Bryan R. Dyer (eds.), The Synoptic Problem: Four Views (2016) 47-66 and 127-38; Stanley E. Porter and Bryan R. Dyer eds. The Synoptic Problem: Four Views (2016); Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 18-41; Mark and the Disciples 475 Neufeld, Dietmar Mockery and Secretism in the Social World of Mark’s Gospel (2014); Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 41-43, 196-199; Black, C. Clifton The Disciples According to Mark: Markan Redaction in Current Debate (2012) for an updated survey of scholarship on the Markan disciples; Watson, David F. Honor among Christians: The Cultural Key to the Messianic Secret (2010); Donahue, John and Daniel Harrington The Gospel of Mark (2002); Henderson, Suzanne W. Concerning the Loaves: Comprehending Incomprehension in Mark 6.45-52 JSNT 83 (2001) 3-26; Danove Paul Paul The Narrative Rhetoric of Mark’s Ambiguous Characterization of the Disciples JSNT 70 (1998) 21-38; Camery-Hoggatt, Jerry Irony in Mark’s Gospel: Text and Subtext SNTSMS, 72 (1992); Fowler, Robert M. Let the Reader Understand: ReaderResponse Criticism and the Gospel of Mark (1991); Matera, Frank J. 1989 The Incomprehension of the Disciples and Peter’s Confession (Mark 6,14– 8,30) Biblica 70: (1989) 153-72; Best, Ernest Disciples and Discipleship: Studies in the Gospel according to Mark (1986); Donahue, John R. The Theology and Setting of Discipleship in the Gospel of Mark (1983); Hawkin, David J. The Incomprehension of the Disciples in Markan Redaction JBL 91 (1972) 491-500; Tyson, Joseph B. The Blindness of the Disciples in Mark JBL 80 (1961) 261-68. Mark and the incomprehension motif Attempts to decipher Mark’s characterization of the disciples and the ‘incomprehension’ motif abound: Neufeld, Dietmar Mockery and Secretism in the Social World of Mark’s Gospel (2014); MacDonald, D.K. The characterisation of a false disciple: Judas Iscariot in Mark’s Gospel McMaster Journal of Theology and Ministry 15 (2013)119–135; Iverson, Kelly R. Wherever the Gospel Is Preached’: The Paradox of Secrecy in the Gospel of Mark in Kelly R. Iverson and Christopher W. Skinner eds. Mark as Story: Retrospect and Prospect (2011) 181–209; for an updated survey of scholarship on the Markan disciples see Black, C. Clifton The Disciples According to Mark: Markan Redaction in Current Debate (2012); Watson, David F. Honor among Christians: The Cultural Key to the Messianic Secret (2010); Guijarro Santiago The First Disciples of Jesus in Galilee Hervormde Teologiese Studies 63.3 (2007) 885-908; Skinner, Christopher W. Whom He Also Named Apostles: A Textual Problem in Mark 3:14 Bibliotheca Sacra (2004) 322–9; Wilkins Michael J. Unique Discipleship to a Unique Master: Discipleship in the Gospel according to Mark Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 8.3 (2004) 50-68; Maloney Linda Mark and Mystery Currents in Theology and Mission 30.6 (2003) 433-437; Donahue, John and Daniel Harrington The Gospel of Mark (2002); Henderson, Suzanne W. Concerning the Loaves: Comprehending Incomprehension in Mark 6.45-52 JSNT 83 (2001) 3-26; Moo Douglas J. Question Mark: Understanding the Gospel of Mark Leicester: Religious & Theological Studies Fellowship (2000); Malbon Elizabeth Struthers in the Company of Jesus: Characters in Mark’s Gospel (2000). Danove Paul Paul The Narrative Rhetoric of Mark’s Ambiguous Characterization of the Disciples JSNT 70 (1998) 21-38; 476 Camery-Hoggatt, Jerry Irony in Mark’s Gospel: Text and Subtext SNTSMS, 72 (1992); Fowler, Robert M. Let the Reader Understand: ReaderResponse Criticism and the Gospel of Mark (1991); Matera, Frank J. 1989 The Incomprehension of the Disciples and Peter’s Confession (Mark 6,14– 8,30) Biblica 70: (1989) 153-72; Best, Ernest Disciples and Discipleship: Studies in the Gospel according to Mark (1986); Donahue, John R. The Theology and Setting of Discipleship in the Gospel of Mark (1983); Hawkin, David J. The Incomprehension of the Disciples in Markan Redaction JBL 91 (1972) 491-500; Tyson, Joseph B. The Blindness of the Disciples in Mark JBL 80 (1961) 261-68. The Jewish followers of Jesus Q AND M – The earliest Jewish followers of Jesus On the Q source: Q is believed to be the earliest source, generally dated 40–50 CE.Kloppenborg John S Composing Matthew by Recomposing Q: The Composition of Matt 23–25.’ (2016); An Early Reader of Mark and Q van Belle Gilbert and Verheyden Josef eds. Biblical Tools and Studies, vol. 21, 187–215 (2016); Harb G. (ed.), Documenta Q: Reconstructions of Q through Two Centuries of Gospel Research Excerpted, Sorted and Evaluated (2012); D.A. Smith D.A. Matthew and Q: The Matthean Deployment of Mark and Q in the Apocalyptic Discourse ETL 85 (2009) 99-116; Burkett Delbert The Unity and Plurality of Q (2009); Kloppenborg John S Q, The Earliest Gospel: An Introduction to the Original Sayings and Stories of Jesus (2008); Luz Ulrich Matthew and Q (2005); Dunn, Christianity in the Making—Vol 1— Jesus Remembered (2003) 60, 144, 147; Darrell Bock, in Rethinking the Synoptic Problem, David Alan Black and David R. Beck, eds. (2001); Robinson James M., Hoffmann Paul, and Kloppenborg John S. eds. The Critical Edition of Q (2000); Kloppenborg J. S., Excavating Q: The History and Setting of the Sayings Gospel (2000), Robinson J.M. The Matthean Trajectory from Q to Mark, in Yarboro Collins (ed.), Ancient and Modern Perspectives on the Bible and Culture (1998) 122-15; Chapter 1; Christopher Tuckett, Q and the History of Early Christianity (1996); Brown R. E. The Death of the Messiah (1994); Hartin Patrick James and the Q Sayings of Jesus JSNTSup 47 (1991); Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels (1990), 128–171; Kloppenborg J. The Formation of Q (1987); John Dominic Crossan, Four Other Gospels: Shadows on the Contours of Canon (1986); On the M material: Stephenson Brooks Matthew's Community: The Evidence of his Special Sayings Material (2015). Amy-Jill Levine The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (2014), Meier John P. The Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds (Matthew 13:24—30) JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 715-732; On the M material: Stephenson Brooks Matthew's Community: The Evidence of his Special Sayings Material (2015). Meier John P. The Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds (Matthew 13:24—30) JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 715-732; Snodgrass Klyne R. Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus (2008); Davies and Dale C. Allison, Jr. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (1997) 2:403-18; Kingsbury Jack Dean The Parables of Jesus in Matthew 13: A Study in in Redaction-Criticism (1969) 477 General - Bibliowicz Abel M. Jewish-Christian Relations, The First Centuries (2016) ; Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013); Skarsaune and Hvalvik, Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007); Skarsaune Oskar The History of Jewish Believers in the Early Centuries in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 745-777; JacksonMccabe Matt ed. Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts (2007); Skarsaune Oskar Jewish-Christian Gospels: Which and How Many? In Ancient Israel, Judaism, and Christianity in Contemporary Perspective Edited by Jacob Neusner et al. Studies in Judaism (2006) 393-408; Murray Michele Playing a Jewish Game: Gentile Christian Judaizing in the First and Second Centuries CE (2004) 77-93; Knox John The Origin of the Ebionites in The Image of the JudaeoChristians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003) 162-81; Taylor Joan E The Phenomenon of Early Jewish Christianity: Reality or Scholarly In The Image of the JudaeoChristians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003); Gager, John G. Did Jewish Christians See the Rise of Islam?’ in The Ways that Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Edited by A. H. Becker and A. Y. Reed (2003) 361-72; Mimouni, Simon C Les elkasaites: etats des questions et des recherches in The Image of the Judaeo-Christians in the Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature. Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003) 209-29; Tomson P. J. and Lambers-Petry D. The Image of the Judaeo-Christians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature (2003); Van de Sandt H. and D. Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (2002); Jones F. Stanley Hegesippus as a Source for the History of Jewish Christianity in Le Judeochristianisme dans tous ses etats: Actes du colloque de Jerusalem 6-10 juillet 1998. Edited by S.C. Mimouni and F. Stanley Jones (2001); Hengel, Martin. Early Christianity as a Jewish-Messianic, Universalist Movement in Conflicts and Challenges in Early Christianity. Edited by D. A. Hagner (1999) 1-41; Paget James Carleton Jewish Christianity in vol. 3 of The Cambridge History of Judaism Edited by William Horbury, W. D. Davies, and John Sturdy (1999) 731-75; Knox John Jews and Jewish Christians in the Land of Israel at the Time of the Bar Kochba War, with Special Reference to the Apocalypse of Peter in Tolerance and Intolerance in Early Judaism and Christianity. Edited by G. N. Stanton and G. G. Stroumsa (1998) 228-38; Horbury William Jewish Messianism and the Cult of Christ (1998) 1-41; McLaren, J. S. Christians and the Jewish Revolt, 66-70 C.E in Ancient History in a Modern University. Vol. 2. Edited by T. W. Hillard, R. A. Kearsley, and A. M. Nobbs. (1998) 54-60; Jones F. Stanley An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27-71. Christian Apocrypha Series 2 (1995); Saldarini Anthony J. Matthew's Christian-Jewish Community (1994); Baumgarten, Albert I. Literary Evidence for Jewish Christianity in the Galilee in The Galilee in Late Antiquity. Edited by Lee I. Levine (1992) 39-50; Klijn A. F. J. Jewish-Christian Gospel Tradition Vigiliae christianae Supplements 17 (1992); Pritz R. A. Nazarene Jewish Christianity: From 478 the End of the New Testament Period Until Its Disappearance in the Fourth Century. Vigiliae christianae 43 (1989) 409-10; Flusser D. Paul’s Jewish-Christian Opponents in the Didache in Gilgul: Essays on Transformation, Revolution and Permanence in the History of Religions. Edited by S. Shaked et al. (1987) 71-90; Segal Alan F. Jewish Christianity in Eusebius, Christianity, and Judaism Edited by W. Attridge and Gohei Hata (1987) 327-51; Klijn A. F. J. Jewish Christianity in Egypt in The Roots of Egyptian Christianity Edited by B. A. Pearson and J. E. Goehring. Studies in Antiquity and Christianity (1986) 161-75; Pritz Ray A. The Jewish Christian Sect of the Nazarenes and the Mishnah in The Period of the Bible Edited by D. Assaf (1986) 125-30; Brown, Raymond E. Not Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity but Types of Jewish/Gentile Christianity (1983) 74-79; Lüdemann, Gerd The Successors of Pre-70 Jerusalem Christianity: A Critical Evaluation of the Pella-Tradition in The Shaping of Christianity in the Second and Third Centuries. Edited by E. P. Sanders. Vol. 1 of Jewish and Christian SelfDefinition (1980) 161-73; Riegel S. K. Jewish Christianity: Definitions and Terminology. New Testament Studies 24 (1978) 410-15; Malina Bruce. Jewish Christianity or Christian Judaism? Toward a Hypothetical Definition Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman Periods 7 (1976) 46-57; Klijn,A. F. J., and G. J. Reinink. Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects. Supplements to Novum Testamentum 36 (1973); Klijn A. F. J. The Study of Jewish Christianity New Testament Studies 20 (1973-74) 419-43; Kraft Robert A. In Search of 'Jewish Christianity' and its Theology: Problems of Definition and Methodology.’ Reserches de science religieuse 60 (1972); Schoedel William R Jewish Christianity: Factional Disputes in the Early Church (1969); Pines Shlomo The Jewish Christians of the Early Centuries of Christianity According to a New Source in Proceedings of the Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities 2 (1968) 237-309; Barnard Leslie W. The Early Roman Church, Judaism, and Jewish Christianity Anglican Theological Review 49 (1967): 371-84; Munck Johannes Primitive Jewish Christianity and Later Jewish Christianity: Continuation or Rupture? in Aspects du judao-christianisme: Colloque de Strasbourg, 22-25 avril 1964 (1965) 77-93; Munck Johannes Jewish Christianity in Post-Apostolic Times New Testament Studies 6 (1959-60) 103-16; The responsibility for Jesus’ death Suggested: Stonehouse N. B. Who Crucified Jesus? in Paul before the Areopagus and Other New Testament Studies (1957); 41-69; Crossan J. D. Who Killed Jesus (1957) 59; Fitzmyer J. A. Antisemitism and the Cry of 'All the People’ TS 26 (1965) 670-71; Crossan J. D. in G. G. O'Collins Antisemitism in the Gospel TS 26 (1965) 663-66; Kosmala H. His Blood on Us and Our Children (The Background of Mat. 27, 24-25)’ ASTI 7 (1970) 94-126; Hare Douglas The Rejection of the Jews in Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity (1979) 22-25; Richardson Peter David Granskou, Stephen G. Wilson Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity: Paul and the Gospels: Volume 1 (1986), Kingsbury J. D. Matthew as Star (1988) 56-57; P. L. Maier Who Killed Jesus? Christianity Today 34/6 (1990) 16-19; Luedemannn, Gerd 479 The Unholy in Holy Scripture (1997) 97-98; Allison Dale Jesus of Nazareth: Millenarian Prophet (1991); Brown Raymond E. The Death of the Messiah (1994). Yarbro Collins Adela and John J. Collins King and Messiah as Son of God Divine, Human, and Angelic Messianic Figures in Biblical and Related Literature (2008); Collins John J. The Scepter and the Star - Messianism in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2010); Simmonds Andrew Mark's and Matthew's ‘Sub Rosa’ Message in the Scene of Pilate and the Crowd JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 733-754; Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 43-46; Appropriating the Jewish scriptures Marcus Joel, The Way of the Lord: Christological Exegesis of the Old Testament in the Gospel of Mark (1992); Leschert, D.F. Hermeneutical Foundations of Hebrews: A Study in the Validity of the Epistle’s Interpretation of Some Core Citations from the Psalms (1994); Moyise Steve & J. Lionel North The Old Testament in the New Testament (2000); Guthrie, G. Hebrews - Use of the Old Testament: Recent Trends in Research. CBR 1.2 (2003): 271-294. Wallace, D. The Use of Psalms in the Shaping of a Text: Psalm 2:7 and Psalm 110:1 in Hebrews 1’, RestQ 45: 41–50 (2003); Johnson, L. T. The Scriptural World of Hebrews Int 57 (2003): 237-250; George J. Brooke The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament (2005); Moyise S. and Menken M.J.J. eds. The Psalms in the New Testament (2004); in Moyise S. and Menken M.J.J. eds. Isaiah in the New Testament: The New Testament and the Scriptures of Israel (2005); Beale, G.K. and D.A. Carson Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament (2007); Polen Nehemia Leviticus and Hebrews ... and Leviticus in Bauckham, R., D. R. Driver, T. A. Hart, and N. MacDonald, eds. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (2009); Le Donne Anthony, The Historio-graphical Jesus: Memory, Typology, and the Son of David (2009); Susan E. Docherty The Use of the Old Testament in Hebrews: A Case Study in Early Jewish Bible Interpretation (2009); Dirk J. Human and Gert Jacobus Steyn (eds.), Psalms and Hebrews: Studies in Reception (LHBOTS, 527; London: T. & T. Clark, 2010); Gelardini Gabriella Hebrews, Homiletics, and Liturgical Scripture Interpretation in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011 )121-145; Moffitt David M. The Interpretation of Scripture in the Epistle to the Hebrews in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 77-99; Moyise Steve The Later New Testament Writings and Scripture: The Old Testament in Acts, Hebrews, the Catholic Epistles and Revelation (2012); Ounsworth, R.J. Joshua Typology in the New Testament (2012); Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 13-19; Whitfield, B.J. Joshua Traditions and the Argument of Hebrews 3 and 4 (2013); Dyer B.R. The epistle to The Hebrews in recent research: studies on the author's identity, his use of The Old Testament, and Theology (2013) 104-31; Foster Paul Echoes without Resonance: Critiquing Certain Aspects of Recent Scholarly Trends in the Study of the Jewish Scriptures in the New Testament Journal for the Study of the New Testament (September 2015) 38: 96-111; Susan Docherty Do you Understand what you Are Reading?’ (Acts 8.30): Current Trends and Future 480 Perspectives in the Study of the Use of the Old Testament in the New Journal for the Study of the New Testament (September 2015) 38: 112-125 The parting of the ways On the parting of the ways debate: Segal Alan F. Rebecca’s Children: Judaism and Christianity in the Roman World (1986); Neusner Jacob Jews and Christians: The Myth of a Common Tradition (1991). Dunn James D.G ed. The Parting of the Ways Between Christianity and Judaism (1992); Wilson, Stephen G Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 70–170 C. E. (1995); Porter Stanley E. and Pearson Brooke W.R. Why the Split? Christians and Jews by the Fourth Century Journal of GrecoRoman Christianity and Judaism 1 (2000) 82–119; Meeks Wayne A. Breaking Away: Three New Testament Pictures of Christianity’s Separation from the Jewish Communities in Search of the Early Christians: Selected Essays Hilton Allen R. and Snyder Gregory h. (2002) 115–23; Becker Adam and Annette Reed Yoshiko eds. The Ways that never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages (2003); Fredriksen Paula What Parting of the Ways? in The Ways that Never Parted, (2003); Lieu Judith, neither Jew nor Greek? in The Ways that never Parted (2003); Zetterholm Magnus The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social-Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and Christianity (2003); Boyarin Daniel Border Lines: The Partition of Judaeo-Christianity (2004); Reinhartz Adele A Fork in the Road or a Multi-Lane Highway? pages 278–329 in Henderson Ian and Oegema Gerbern eds. The Changing Face of Judaism: Christianity and Other Greco-Roman Religions in Antiquity (2006) 278-329; Jossa Giorgo Jews or Christians? The Followers of Jesus in Search of Their Own Identity (2006); Jackson-Mccabe Matt ed., Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts (2007); Heemstra Marius The Fiscus Judaicus and the Parting of the Ways (2010); Cohen, Shaye JD. The ways that parted: Jews, Christians, and Jewish-Christians ca. 100-150 CE (2013), Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 151-167; Gager J.G. Who Did What to Whom? Physical Violence between Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity in A most reliable witness edited by Harvey Susan Ashbrook, DesRosiers Nathaniel, Lander Shira L., Pastis Jacqueline Z. and Ullucci Daniel (2015) SupersessionHomer A. Kent The New Covenant and the Church GTJ 6 (1985) 295; Attridge, H.W. The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (1989) 228; Johnson Luke T. The New Testament's Anti-Jewish Slander and the Conventions of Ancient Polemic JBL Vol. 108, No. 3 (1989), 423–424; Lindars Barnabas The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews (1991) 11; Lane William L. Hebrews 1–8, WBC 47a (1991) 210; Ellingworth, P. The Epistle to the Hebrews NIGTC (1993) 413, 417; Walters J. R. The Rhetorical Arrangement of Hebrews As 7/51 (1996) 59–70; David A. deSilva, Perseverance in Gratitude: A SocioRhetorical Commentary on the Epistle ‘to the Hebrews’ (2000), 287; Salevao Iutisone Legitimation in the Letter to the Hebrews: The Construction and 481 Maintenance of a Symbolic Universe JSNTSup 219 (2002)192–195; Wedderburn A. J. M. Sawing off the Branches: Theologizing Dangerously Ad Hebraeos JTS 56 (2005) 393-414; Kim L. Polemic in the Book of Hebrews: Anti-Judaism, Antisemitism, Supersessionism? (2006); Hays Richard Here We Have No Lasting City’: New Covenantalism in Hebrews in The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology, ed. Richard Bauckham, et al. (2009) 151-73; Nanos, M. D. New or Renewed Covenantalism? A Response to Richard Hays In Bauckham et al., The Epistle to the Hebrews (2009) 183-188; Skarsaune, O. ‘Does the Letter to the Hebrews Articulate a Supersessionist Theology? A Response to Richard Hays.’ In Bauckham et al., The Epistle to the Hebrews, (2009); Mitchell Alan C. A Sacrifice of Praise Does Hebrews Promote Supersessionism? in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 251-269; Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 103151; The myth of Jewish proselytizing On the meager evidence for Jewish proselytizing: Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 204-210; Murray Michele Playing a Jewish Game (2004) 118-119; Paula Fredriksen ‘What Parting of the Ways?’ In The Ways that Never Parted, (2003) 48–56; J. Lighthouse, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. in Wilson Stephen G., ed. Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. Vol. 2. Separation and Polemic.’ Studies in Christianity and Judaism (2000) 106; Levinskaya I., The Book of Acts in its First Century Setting. V. Diaspora Setting (1996), 21–47; Miriam S. Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity: A Critique of the Scholarly Consensus (1995); Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 118– 119; Martin Goodman, The Jews among Pagans and Christians: In the Roman Empire (1992), 53, 55, 70–71; T. Kraabel, The Roman Diaspora: Six questionable assumptions (1982), 451–452; David Rokeah, Jews, Pagans and Christians in Conflict (1982), 32–44; For the opposite position: D. Georgi, The Opponents of Paul in Second Corinthians (1986), 83–228; L. H. Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World (1993), 288–415. Standing on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 118– 119. Birkhat Haminim: the benediction against the heretics Langer Ruth Cursing the Christians? A History of the Birkat Haminim (2012) 16– 39; Schremer Adiel Brothers Estranged: Heresy, Christianity, and Jewish Identity in Late Antiquity (2010); Marcus, Joel. Birkat ha-Minim Revisited New Testament Studies 55 (2009) 523– 51; Kinzig Wolfram The Condemnation of the Nosrim in the Birkat Haminim in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 482-488; Horbury William Jews and Christians in Contact and Controversy (1998) 67-110, 240-43; Daniel Boyarin Justin Martyr 482 Invents Judaism CH 70 (2001) 427–61; Horbury William Early Christians on Synagogue Prayer and Imprecation in Tolerance and Intolerance in Early Judaism and Christianity ed. G. N. Stanton and G. G. Stroumsa (1998) 296-317; van der Horst, Hellenism; Mimouni Simon C. Les Nazoreens: Recherche etymologique et historique.’ Revue biblique 105 (1998) 161-88, 212-15; A. Reinhartz The Johannine Community: A Reappraisal in ‘What Is John?’ edited by Fernando F. Segovia (1996 –1998); Mimouni Simon C. La 'Birkat ha-mininVm: Une priere juive contre les judeochretiens RSR 71 (1997) 275-98; Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 47; van der Horst Pieter W. The Birkat ha-minim in Recent Research ExpTim 105 (1993-1994) 363-68; van der Horst Hellenism—Judaism— Christianity: Essays on Their Interaction (1994) 99-111; Joubert S. J. A Bone of Contention in Recent Scholarship: The 'Birkat HaMinim' and the Separation of Church and Synagogue in the First Century AD. Neotestamentica 27 (1993) 351-62; Mimouni Simon C. Pour une definition nouvelle du judeo-christianisme ancient New Testament Studies 38 (1992) 161-86; Overmann J. A. Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism (1990) 48–56; Thornton Timothy C. G. Christian Understanding of the Birkath Ha-Minim in the Eastern Roman Empire JTS NS 38 (1987) 419-31; Schiffman Lawrence Η. Who Was a Jew? Rabbinic and Halakhic Perspectives on the Jewish Christian Schism (1985) 56-61; Katz S. T. Issues in the Separation of Judaism and Christianity after 70 C. E.: A Reconsideration JBL 103 (1984), 43–76, 74; Horbury William The Benediction of the Minim and Early Jewish-Christian Controversy JTS NS 33 (1982) 19-61; Schalom Ben-Chorin, Betendes Judentum: Kimelman, Reuven Birkat Ha-Minim and the Lack of Evidence for an AntiChristian Jewish Prayer in Late Antiquity in Aspects of Judaism in the Graeco-Roman Period. Edited by E. P. Sanders, A. I. Baumgarten, and A. Mendelson. Vol. 2 of Jewish and Christian Self-Definition (1981) 226-44, 391-403; J. Townsend, ‘The Gospel of John—Jews: The Story of a Religious Divorce,’ in Antisemitism and the Foundations Christianity, A. Davies, ed. (1979), 72–97 Adversus Judaeos literatureBlack, Stephen Ethnic Judeans and Christian Identity Formation in John Chrysostom's Adversus Judaeos’ 62-92 in Black, Stephen ed. To Set at Liberty: Essays on Early Christianity and Its Social World (2014); Van Nuffelen, Peter Theophilus against John Chrysostom: The Fragments of a Lost liber and the Reasons for John’s Deposition Adamantius 19 (2013b) 138-55; Côté, Dominique Le problème de l’identité religieuse dans la Syrie du IVe siècle. Le cas des PseudoClémentines et de l’Adversus Judaeos de saint Jean Chrysostom in Mimouni Simon C. et Pouderon Bernard eds. La croisée des chemins revisitée. Quand l’Église et la Synagogue se sont-elles distinguées? (2012) 339-70; Lahey Lawrence Evidence for Jewish Believers in Christian-Jewish Dialogues through the Sixth Century in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 581-640; David Satran in Contra Iudaeos, Ora Limor, Maurice R. Hayoun, and Guy G. Stroumsa, eds., (1996), 49–58; Stroumsa Guy G. Contra Iudaeos, Ora Limor, Maurice R. Hayoun, and Guy G. Stroumsa, eds., (1996) 8–10; 483 484 *Citations 1 On the impact of this verse see Samuel Sandmel, Antisemitism in The New Testament? (1978), 66. 2 2.1 Pro-Jewish and pro-Torah texts and sources in the New Testament: Q, the M material in Matthew, and James. Outside the NT see The Didache, and the Pseudo-Clementine literature. 2.2 Christopher Leighton, in his introduction to N. Beck’s Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1994). 3 Christopher Leighton, in his introduction to N. Beck’s Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1994). 4 ‘Those pages of history that Jews have committed to memory are the very ones that have been torn from Christian (and secular) history books.’ E. Flannery, The Anguish of the Jews: TwentyThree Centuries of Antisemitism (1985). 5 Stephen G. Wilson, ed., Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2 (1986), 48; and D. P. Efroymson, Tertullian’s Anti-Judaism and its Role in Theology (1976), 112–146. 6 For a recent survey, Peter Schäfer The Jewish Jesus: How Judaism and Christianity Shaped Each Other (2012); J. Lighthouse, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. in Wilson Stephen G., ed. Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. Vol. 2. Separation and Polemic.’ Studies in Christianity and Judaism (2000) 106; On the absence of anti-Christian polemic in the foundational texts of Rabbinic Judaism, see Eugene Fisher and L. Klenicki, eds., Root and Branches: Biblical Judaism, Rabbinical Judaism and Early Christianity (1987). 7 Telos (Greek)—end, result. History evolves in a purposeful (telic), rather than chaotic, manner. 8 Recently: Tomson Peter Jewish Christianity, A State of Affairs: Affinities and Differences with Respect to Matthew, James, and the Didache in Matthew, James, and Didache : three related documents in their Jewish and Christian setting (2008) 92-122; Hengel Martin Between Jesus and Paul: Studies in the Earliest History of Christianity Translated (2013); Zetterholm Magnus Paul within Judaism: The State of the Questions in Nanos Mark D. and Zetterholm Magnus, eds. Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle (2015) 37-42, although his casting is Gentiles vis-à-vis Jews and not (as I suggest) Pauline believers in Jesus vis-à-vis the Jewish followers of Jesus. 9 Amy-Jill Levine The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus (2006). 10 See bibliography on the appropriation of the Jewish scriptures by Pauline believers pg. 415 11 See bibliography on the myth of Jewish proselytizing pg. 415 12 The foundational work is Brown, Raymond E. ‘Not Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity but Types of Jewish/Gentile Christianity.’ Catholic Biblical Quarterly 45 (1983): 74-79 13 See bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus 14 John Knox, Marcion and the New Testament (1942); and ‘Marcion and the 485 Synoptic Problem,’ in Jesus, the Gospels and the Church, E. P. Sanders, ed. (1987), 25–31; Joseph Tyson, Marcion and Luke-Acts (2006). 17 Christoph Markschies Gnosis An Introduction (2003) Chap III-IV. 02 Historical Background 18 Commonly used transliteration of the Hebrew name of the God of Israel. Cohen, Shaye J. D. From the Maccabees to the Mishnah (1987) 27-29 20 End of Cohen, Shaye J. D. From the Maccabees to the Mishnah (1987) 27-29 21 For a recent collection of papers on current ‘messiah’ scholarship from a Christian Evangelical perspective see Hess Richard and Daniel Carroll eds. Israel's Messiah in the Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls (2003) 22 These categories are my elaboration on Flavius Josephus’ four ‘schools’ or ‘philosophies’ (Antiquities 18.11-25). 23 Flavious Josephus Antiquities XVII 2, 4 (41-5) reports on 6000 Pharisees during Herod’s reign.; Saldarini, Anthony J. Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian society (1988) 273, 277; ‘The level of animosity, unprecedented in Matthew, let alone the other Gospels, strongly suggests that the scribes and Pharisees stand for contemporaries with whom the author is in conflict.’ Wilson, Related Strangers, 50; The scribes and the Pharisees are the main Matthean enemies. Peter Tomson Jews and the New Testament Authors (2001), 276; Runesson, Anders Rethinking Early Jewish—Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intragroup Conflict JBL 127 (2008) 95-132; Recent survey on the Pharisees in the NT: Marshall, Mary. The Portrayals of the Pharisees in the Gospels and Acts (2015). Also Philip F. Esler Intergroup Conflict and Matthew 23: Towards Responsible Historical Interpretation of a Challenging Text BTB 45 (2015) 38–59 24 Neusner J. Politics to Piety: The Emergence of Pharisaic Judaism (1973) 85-95 25 Standing on Flusser D. Jewish Sources in Early Christianity (1987) 28-9 26 Zadokim – Associated with the priestly aristocracy and the descendants of Zadok, one of David’s High priests. 27 Dunn James D.G. Christianity in the Making – Vol 1 - Jesus Remembered (2003) 270-271 28 For a discussion of these terms see Rowland Christopher The Open Heaven: A Study of the Apocalyptic in Judaism and Early Christianity (1982) 23-48 29 Nickelsburg, George Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity, Continuity and Transformation (2003) 168 and Nickelsburg G. W. 1 Enoch: a Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch (2000) 68-69 30 Dunn James D.G. Christianity in the Making – Vol 1 - Jesus Remembered (2003) 270-271. Josephus Flavius was a Judean traitor, and a collaborator with the Roman conquerors. His views on Roman behavior and on Judean opposition to the Roman conquest are therefore problematic. 19 31 Horsley, Richard and J.S. Hanson Bandits, Prophets and Messiahs (1985) 88-106 and Mendels, Doron (The Rise and Fall of Jewish Nationalism, 1992, 55-80 and 385-394) 32 Saldarini, Anthony J. Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian society (1988) 273, 277 33 Flavious Josephus Antiquities XVII 2, 4 (41-5) reports on 6000 Pharisees during Herod’s reign. 486 34 Brown, R.E. Not Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity but Types of Jewish/Gentile Christianity CBQ 45, Jan l983, 74-79 35 Here Torah = Pentateuch, the first five books of the Hebrew Bible. The term is also used to describe the totality of biblical lore and wisdom. 36 Belief in YHWH, the Judean tribal God. 37 Wellhausen, Julius: Prolegomena To The History of Israel (1882). Martin Noth A History of Pentateuchal Traditions (1948). Whybray, R. N. The Making of the Pentateuch: A Methodological Study, Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series 53 (1987). Friedman, Richard E. Who Wrote The Bible? (1987). Joel S. Baden The Composition of the Pentateuch: Renewing the Documentary Hypothesis (2012) 38 Pentateuch (Torah) – The first five texts of the Hebrew scriptures. Torah, in its expansive usage, is also used to encapsulate the totality Jewish religious lore. 39 Generally, Torah = the beliefs and customs of Judaism (expansive usage). Occasionally Torah = Pentateuch (reductive usage). 40 For an updated review of scholarship on the evolution of Christian monotheism, see Stuckenbruck, Loren T., and Wendy E. S. North, eds. Early Jewish and Christian Monotheism Early Christianity in Context, 2004 41 Similar position in Taylor, Miriam S. Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity: A Critique of the Scholarly Consensus, (1995) and Murray Michele Playing a Jewish Game (2004) 118119. For bibliography on the myth of Jewish proselytizing see pg. 415. 42 Beck’s presentation of this type of polemic in the Hebrew Scriptures is the best I have encountered. Beck N. A. Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the AntiJewish Polemic of the New Testament)1994) 57-9 43 Beck N. A. Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament)1994) 57-9. See also Goldenberg, Robert The Nations That Know Thee Not: Ancient Jewish Attitudes Toward Other Religions (1997). 44 Standing on M. T. Melakhim 8,11 (Lloyd Gaston, 1987-13). 45 Standing on Sanders E.P. Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) 238 46 On the need to correct misperceptions about first century Judaism see Levine Amy-Jill Baring False Witness: Common Errors Made about Early Judaism in Amy-Jill Levine, Dale C. Allison Jr., and John Dominic Crossan, eds., The Historical Jesus in Context (2006). 47 The Judean Messiah had to be of Davidic descendent. 48 Similar perspectives in Gurevitz Zali Al Hamakom (2007) 49 Here Torah=Pentateuch. 50 Klein, Charlotte Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology (1978) 41-3 on the impact of the transition from prophetic to priestly influence. 51 Dunn J. in Bieringer, Pollefeyt, Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, eds. Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel (2001) 47 52 For a recent survey see Schäfer Peter The Origins of Jewish Mysticism (2009). 53 For eschatological elements in Qumran see Cross Frank The Ancient Library of Qumran (1995) 89-93. On the variety and multiplicity of claims to revelation and to divine inspiration see Horsley Richard and J.S. Hanson Bandits, Prophets and Messiahs (1985) 135-175. 54 Eschatology—The doctrine of the last things, the end of time and the end of history. 55 See thoughtful survey of the subject see Smallwood E.M. The Jews Under Roman Rule (1976) 136-7. For supporters of a substantially positive view of this relationship see Simon Appelbaum and Menahem Stern. For a comprehensive survey of this topic, see Gager John 487 (1985) Ch. 3. ‘Traditionalists’ and some recent academics such as R.B. Ward and T. Idinopulos persist in presenting a traditionalist view of Roman attitudes toward Judaism. 56 Judas Maccabeus leader of the Judean revolt was revered as the messiah by his followers. 57 E. M. Smallwood describes this relationship with great economy. For supporters of a substantially positive view of this relationship see also Simon Appelbaum and Menahem Stern. For a comprehensive survey of this topic, see Gager John (1985) Ch. 3. ‘Traditionalists’ and some recent academics such as R.B. Ward and T. Idinopulos persist in presenting a traditionalist view of Roman attitudes toward Judaism. 58 Based on Wilken Robert The Christians as The Romans Saw Them (1984) 113, Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers (1995) 21 and Boys Mary C. Has God Only One Blessing? (2000) 92 estimate 5-7 percent. 59 See Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 20-21 who elaborated on Gager J. The Origins of Antisemitism (1983) 35-112. For other views see J. N. Sevenster The Roots of Antisemitism in the Ancient World (1975), J. Meagher As the Twig Was Bent: Antisemitism in Greco-Roman and Early Christian Times,’ in A. T. Davies, ed., Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity (1975) 1-26 and Z. Yavtz Judeophobia in Classical Antiquity. A Different Approach,’ JJS 44 (1993) 1-22. Schäfer Peter, Judeophobia. Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World (1997). Recently, on Jews and Christians in the GrecoRoman World A most reliable witness Harvey Susan Ashbrook, DesRosiers Nathaniel, Lander Shira L., Pastis Jacqueline Z. and Ullucci Daniel eds. (2015) 60 In 38 CE and 66 CE riots erupted in Alexandria in opposition to Jewish influence. 61 See further insights in Gager John Attitudes Toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian Antiquity (1985) 88 and 98. See also Tchericover V. Hellenistic Civilization and the Jews (1971) 90-174 on the impact of Hellenism. 62 See Court, John M., and Dan Cohn-Sherbok, eds. Religious Diversity in the Greco-Roman World: A Survey of Recent Scholarship (2001), similar conclusions in Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 9 63 Boys Mary C. Has God Only One Blessing? (2000) 92-94 64 On the Hasmoneans dynasty Mendels Doron The Rise and Fall of Jewish Nationalism (1992) 55-80 65 See Harold Remus in Blasi, Anthony J., Jean Duhamel and Paul-Andre' Turcotte, eds. Handbook of Early Christianity (2002) 433 and 431-452 for an updated summary of scholarship on Roman persecution of Christianity. Also J. D. Crossan Who Killed Jesus (1995) 25 66 See Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 28-29 67 On readiness to withstand hardship as a corroboration and exaltation’ of belief in Jesus:King, Karen L. Rethinking the Diversity of Ancient Christianity: Responding to Suffering and Persecution in Iricinschi Eduard et al. eds. Beyond the Gnostic Gospels: Studies Building on the Work of Elaine Pagels (2013) 60-78; King, Karen L. Willing to Die for God: Individualization and Instrumental Agency in Ancient Christian Martyr Literature in Jörg Rüpke ed.The Individual in the Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean (2013); Kelhoffer, James A. Persecution, Persuasion and Power: Readiness to Withstand Hardship as a Corroboration of Legitimacy in the New Testament (2010) 342-84; Yarbro Collins, Adela Finding Meaning in the Death of Jesus JR 78 (1998) 175-96; Talbert, Charles H. Learning through Suffering: The Educational Value of Suffering in the New Testament and in its Milieu (1991); Lee-Pollard, Dorothy Powerlessness as Power: A Key Emphasis in the Gospel of Mark SJT 40 (1987) 173-88 68 Similar views in Taylor Miriam Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995) 90 488 69 See Wilken The Christians as The Romans Saw Them (1984) 197-205, Court, John M., and Dan Cohn-Sherbok, eds. Religious Diversity in the Greco-Roman World 70 Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 28-29 71 Zetterholm Magnus The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social- Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and Christianity (2003) chap 223 72 Similar views in Murray Michele Playing a Jewish Game (2004) 81 and Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 163. 04 – Chapter 4 – The First Years 73 In John, Jesus’s ministry seems to include three Passovers. See James D. G. Dunn, Christianity in the Making—Vol 1—Jesus Remembered (2003), 165–167. 74 On early diversity, see R. E. Brown, ‘Not Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity but Types of Jewish/Gentile Christianity,’ CBQ 45, January 1983. 75 On the pre-Synoptic era, see scholarship on Q and M see Pg. 415. 76 Recently, White Benjamin L. Remembering Paul: Ancient and Modern Contests over the Image of the Apostle (2014); For a comprehensive review of scholarship on the subject, see R. Bieringer and D. Pollefeyt, eds., Paul and Judaism: Crosscurrents in Pauline Exegesis and the Study of Jewish-Christian Relations (2012). 77 See analysis in Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik, eds., Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007), 151. Also, Jackson-Mccabe Matt ed. Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts (2007). 78 See analysis in Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik, eds., Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007), 151. 79 John G. Gager, Reinventing Paul (2000), 4–7. 80 Beker Christiaan J. Paul the Apostle: The Triumph of God in Life and Thought (1980); Keck, Leander E. Romans (2005); For a recent volume see Sumney Jerry L. ed. Reading Paul’s letter to the Romans SBL (2012), Fredriksen Paula Paul’s Letter to the Romans, the Ten Commandments, and Pagan ‘Justification by Faith’ JBL 133, no. 4 (2014): 801–808. 81 Conversation with N. Beck (January 2008). See discussion in Luke/Acts segment ‘Marcion and Luke/Acts’. 82 For an updated, thorough, and comprehensive review of scholarship on the subject, see R. Bieringer and D. Pollefeyt, eds., Paul and Judaism: Crosscurrents in Pauline Exegesis and the Study of Jewish-Christian Relations (2012). 83 My summary of E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977), 432. See Hagner Donald A. Paul as a Jewish Believer in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 97-154. 84 On Paul’s use of scripture - recommended recent collections of essays: Paul and scripture Stanley E. Porter and Christopher D. Stanley, eds., As It Is Written: Studying Paul’s Use of Scripture SBL SymS 50 (2008), Paul and scripture: extending the conversation / edited by Christopher D. Stanley (2012); Hagner Donald A. Paul as a Jewish Believer in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 97-154. 85 My interpretation of W. D. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism (1958), 324. 86 Kerygma —Greek for preaching. Bultmann distinguishes between two theological strata in the early Church: (i) the doctrine of the Mother-Church in Jerusalem, and (ii) ‘The Kerygma of the Hellenistic Community.’ 489 The usefulness and relevancy of the term ‘Gnosticism’ has recently been criticized as interest in Gnosticism has increased, due to its multiple meanings. See Williams Michael Allen Rethinking ‘‘Gnosticism’’: An Argument for Dismantling a Dubious Category (1996). King Karen L. What Is Gnosticism? (2003). 88 My summary of Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels (1990), 125. 89 See ibid.; Bart Ehrman, Lost Christianities: The Battle for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew (2003); and Elaine Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels (1943). 90 For a detailed presentation of the Mystery Religions, see Hans-Josef Klaick, The Religious Context of Early Christianity (2003). 91 James D. G. Dunn, Christianity in the Making—Vol. 1—Jesus Remembered (2003), 181–184. ‘Paul in particular seems to show little interest in the ministry of Jesus and little knowledge of the Jesus tradition.’ 92 see Robin Scoggs, in Pauline Conversations in Context, J.C. Anderson, J. Capel, P. Sellew, and C. Seltzer, eds. (2002). 93 H. Conzelmann, An Outline of the Theology of the New Testament (1969), 164, on the centrality of ‘by faith alone’ in Paul’s teaching. Recent: Wright, N. T. Paul and the Faithfulness of God, 2 vols. (2013). 94 On the Jewish followers of Jesus during the first decades: Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 11-21; Skarsaune and Hvalvik, Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007); Skarsaune Oskar The History of Jewish Believers in the Early Centuries in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 745-777; Skarsaune Oskar Jewish-Christian Gospels: Which and How Many? In Ancient Israel, Judaism, and Christianity in Contemporary Perspective Edited by Jacob Neusner et al. Studies in Judaism (2006) 393-408; Murray Michele Playing a Jewish Game: Gentile Christian Judaizing in the First and Second Centuries CE (2004); Hengel, Martin. Early Christianity as a Jewish-Messianic, Universalist Movement in Conflicts and Challenges in Early Christianity. Edited by D. A. Hagner (1999) 1-41; Paget James Carleton Jewish Christianity in vol. 3 of The Cambridge History of Judaism Edited by William Horbury, W. D. Davies, and John Sturdy (1999) 731-75; Flusser D. Paul’s Jewish-Christian Opponents in the Didache in Gilgul: Essays on Transformation, Revolution and Permanence in the History of Religions. Edited by S. Shaked et al. (1987) 71-90; For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415. 95 Gerd Luedemann, Paul—The Founder of Christianity (2002), 16. 96 See recent Harding Mark and Nobbs Alanna eds. All Things to All Cultures: Paul Among Jews, Greeks, and Romans (2013). 97 see also Stanley E. Porter and Dennis L. Stamps, eds., The Rhetorical Interpretation of Scripture (1999); Anthony J. Blasi, Jean Duhaime, and Paul-Andre’ Turcotte, eds., Handbook of Early Christianity (2002), section 2, for a discussion of rhetorical techniques and their effectiveness. L. T. Johnson, The New Testament’s Anti-Jewish Slander and the Conventions of Ancient Polemic (1989), 419– 441; G. N. Stanton, Aspects of Early Christian-Jewish Polemic and Apologetic (1985); and Mary C. Boys, Has God Only One Blessing? (2000), 184–185. 98 For bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see Pg. 415. 99 Luedemann, Paul—The Founder of Christianity, 41, on the Jewish Christian ambivalence toward Paul. Recent: Wright, N. T. Paul and the Faithfulness of God, 2 vols. (2013). 100 On Paul’s need and yearning for pre-eminence, see ibid., 187–191. 87 490 Per Murray’s research: F. C. Baur (1876); H. D. Betz (1979); F. F. Bruce (1982); E. D. Burton (1921); Gager (2000); G. Howard (1979); R. Jewett (1971); J. B. Lightfoot (1865); J. Murphy O’Connor (1996)—Michele Murray, Playing a Jewish Game (2004); David Flusser, ‘Paul’s Jewish-Christian Opponents in the Didache,’ in Jonathan A. Draper, ed., The Didache in Modern Research (1996), 197; Gerd Luedemann, Opposition to Paul in Jewish Christianity, trans. E. Boring (1989), 1–34. H. J. Schoeps, Jewish Christianity (1969); A. F. J. Klijn, The Study of Jewish-Christianity (NTS 1973 –74), 419–426. Updated views in Matt JacksonMccabe, ed., Jewish Christianity Reconsidered (2007). 102 Painter John in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 176-7. 103 According to O. Skarsaune and R. Hvalvik, eds., Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007), the Gentiles he went to were the same as the ones he had already met in the synagogue (Acts 13:43; 18:7). 104 J. C. Becker, Paul the Apostle—The Triumph of God in Life and Thought (1980), 144. NonTorah observance by Gentiles at the core of Paul’s theology. 105 Magnus Zetterholm, The Formation of Christianity in Antioch (2003), 142, correctly identifies the lenient position of the early Jewish followers of Jesus toward the inclusion of gentiles. The argument was about Torah observance as a condition for inclusion. 106 Same position in Skarsaune and Hvalvik, Jewish Believers in Jesus, 151; and S. G. Wilson, Luke and the Law (2005), 68. 107 For a somewhat similar view of the collapse of the Jerusalem compromise, see Philip Alexander, in James D. G. Dunn, ed., Jews and Christians—the Parting of the Ways (1989), 24; Recently, Cohen, Shaye JD. The ways that parted: Jews, Christians, and Jewish-Christians ca. 100-150 CE (2013). 108 See Magnus Zetterholm, The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social-Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and Christianity (2003), 156–166, for a consonant presentation of the Paul-James relationship. 109 G. Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity, Continuity and Transformation (2003), Chapter 2; and E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) for critiques of the traditional view of Judaism. 110 Recently, Rosner Brian S. Paul and the Law: What he Does not Say Journal for the Study of the New Testament (June 2010) 32: 405-419. 111 E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977). For a discussion of Sander’s thesis, see E. Fabian, S. Heschel, M. Chancey, G. Tatum, eds., Redefining First-Century Jewish and Christian Identities: Essays in Honor of Ed Parish Sanders (2008). 112 H. J. Schoeps, Paul. The Theology of the Apostle in the Light of Jewish Religious History (1961), 213–219, argues that Paul failed to see the connection between covenant and the Law. 113 Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 550–551. 114 Krister Stendahl, Paul among Jews and Gentiles (1976), 2. Recent: Dunn, James D. G. The New Perspective on Paul. 2nd edition (2008). 115 Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, 70, pioneered the shift toward a Law observant Paul who opposed Law observance only as it regards Gentiles. Also Hagner Donald A. The Changing Understanding of Paul in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 97-101, 118-121. 116 For the contrary view that Paul may be anti-Jewish, see J. C. Becker, Paul the Apostle. The Triumph of God in Life and Thought (1980), 75–90. 117 For an opposing view, see P. Richardson, Israel in the Apostolic Church (1969) 133–136. 101 491 A non-exhaustive list: Stuhlmacher P. Revisiting Paul’s Doctrine of Justification: A Challenge to the New Perspective (2001); Das A. A. Paul, the Law, and the Covenant (2001); Kim S. Paul and the New Perspective: Second Thoughts on the Origins of Paul’s Gospel (2002); Carson D. A., O’Brien Peter T. and Seifrid Mark A. eds., Justification and Variegated Nomism. Volumes I and II (2001); Gathercole S. J. Where is Boasting? Early Jewish Soteriology and Paul’s Response in Romans 1-5 (2002); Dunn James D.G. Jesus, Paul, and the Gospels (2011), Wright N. T. Paul and the Faithfulness of God, Volumes 1 and 2 (2013), Harmon Matthew S. and Smith Jay E., editors Studies in the Pauline Epistles (2014), Longenecker Bruce W. and Still Todd D. Thinking Through Paul: An Introduction to His Life, Letters, and Theology (2014); Nanos Mark D. and Zetterholm Magnus, eds. Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle (2015). 119 Dunn James D.G. What’s Right about the Old Perspective on Paul in Harmon Matthew S. and Smith Jay E., editors Studies in the Pauline Epistles (2014) 229; Charlotte Klein, AntiJudaism in Christian Theology (1978), 39–66. Luther’s impact on later readings of the New Testament texts. 120 Westerholm Stephen What’s Right about the Old Perspective on Paul in Harmon Matthew S. and Smith Jay E., editors Studies in the Pauline Epistles (2014) 235-6 121 Recently; Zetterholm Magnus Paul within Judaism: The State of the Questions in Nanos Mark D. and Zetterholm Magnus, eds. Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle (2015) 46; Hagner Donald A. The Changing Understanding of Paul in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 97-101, 118-121. 122 See appendix I for a survey of modern scholarship on Paul. 123 Recently, Nanos Mark D. and Magnus Zetterholm Magnus eds. Paul Within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015); For a somewhat different presentation, see P. J. Tomson, If This Be from Heaven...: Jesus and the New Testament Authors in Their Relationship to Judaism (2001), 400. Tomson sees a split within the Pauline tradition between the Lukean (non-anti-Jewish) tradition and the Ignatian interpretation that reads Paul as ‘anti-Jewish.’ 124 An omnipotent, universal, and benevolent God. 125 Teleology is the philosophical study of purpose (from the Greek from telos, end, result). 126 Worldwide the earliest explorer of inner consciousness appears to be Siddhartha Gautama (The Buddha). There is no consensus on the date of the historical Buddha (estimates range from early fifth century to mid-fourth century BCE). 127 For a detailed discussion of Paul’s ‘justification by faith alone’ in the context of traditional versus new interpretations of Paul, see Westerholm Stephen Understanding Paul: the early Christian worldview of the letter to the Romans (2004, part 3 and 445), and Sumney Jerry L. ed. Reading Paul’s letter to the Romans SBL (2012). 128 1 Cor. 1:23. 129 Similar views in Dunn, Christianity in the Making—Vol. 1—Jesus Remembered, 260. 130 Paul’s Jewish grounding: W. D. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism (1958) pioneered the shift toward a Law-observant Paul who opposed Law observance only as it regards Gentiles. Also E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977); Lloyd Gaston, Paul and the Torah (1987); John G. Gager, Reinventing Paul (2000); Luedemann, Paul—The Founder of Christianity, 136; Dunn, James D. G. The New Perspective on Paul. 2nd edition (2008). 118 492 131 Standing on Paul M. Van Buren, A Theology of the Jewish Christian Reality: Christ in Context (1983), 274, but emphasizing the intra-muros nature of the debates (within the Jesus movement). 132 James D. G. Dunn, ed., Paul and the Mosaic Law: The Third Durham- Tübingen Research Symposium on Earliest Christianity and Judaism, Durham; Dunn, James D. G. The New Perspective on Paul. 2nd edition (2008) 312. 133 Also Gaston, Paul and the Torah, 32. 134 Hvalvik Reidar The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant: The Purpose of the Epistle of Barnabas and Jewish-Christian Competition in the Second Century (1996) 249-67; Trebilco Paul R. Jewish Communities in Asia Minor (1991) 145-66. 135 Jacob Jervell, The Theology of the Acts of the Apostles (1996): Paul proselytizes in synagogues, creating friction and animosity; ‘we find nowhere in Acts Paul addressing audiences which consist of Gentiles only’ (p. 85). 136 J. T. Sanders aims in the right direction when he states regarding Matthew: Nowhere does Matthew provide clues about the causes of this persecution, and the question of cause is the more puzzling due to the fact that, in the Jewish Christian source of Matthew, the Christian mission is clearly restricted to ‘Israel’ (Mf 10.23). Therefore, the synagogue flogging known to this Jewish Christian source cannot have been for the ‘crime’ of admitting Gentiles to Christianity without converting them at the same time to Judaism. J. T. Sanders, in Blasi, Duhaime, and Turcotte, Handbook of Early Christianity, 362. 137 On this matter see recent Mark D. Nanos and Daniel Boyarin, and Neil Elliott in Nanos Mark D. and Zetterholm Magnus, eds. Paul within Judaism: Restoring the First-Century Context to the Apostle (2015); Similar views in Clark M. Williamson, A Guest in the House of Israel (1993), 87. 138 For diversity and adversity in early Christianity, see the foundational works of Walter Bauer Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity (trans. 1971) and James M. Robinson and Helmut Koester Trajectories through Early Christianity (1971); James D. G. Dunn, Unity and Diversity in the New Testament: An Inquiry into the Character of Earliest Christianity (1990). For a critical appraisal of Bauer’s thesis, see Köstenberger Andreas J. and Michael J. Kruger The Heresy of Orthodoxy: How Contemporary Culture's Fascination with Diversity Has Reshaped Our Understanding of Early Christianity (2010); Bauckham Richard James and the Jerusalem Church in The Book of Acts in Its First Century Setting, vol. 4: The Book of Acts in Its Palestinian Setting ed. Bruce W. Winter (1995) 415–80; Bauckham Richard James, Peter, and the Gentiles in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 91–142; Schnabel Eckhard J. Early Christian Mission (2004). 139 Traditionalist-universalist (Dunn), neo-traditionalist (Westerholm), Christological (E. P. Sanders), sociological (Watson), or revisionist (Stendahl, Gaston, Gager). 140 On Paul’s need and drive for pre-eminence, see Luedemannn, Paul—The Founder of Christianity, 187–191. 141 My view on Paul is somewhat close to Räisänen’s ‘probably not the dominant voice in early Christian theology,’ ... not a ‘a theologian in the modern sense, and more a mix of charismatic enthusiast and pragmatic community organizer.’ Heikki R, Paul and the Law (1987), 200, 218. See also Rosner Brian S. Paul and the Law: What he Does not Say Journal for the Study of the New Testament (June 2010) 32: 405-419. 142 On Jewish perspectives on Paul, see Daniel R. Langton, The Apostle Paul in the Jewish Imagination: A Study in Modern Jewish-Christian Relations (1999). 493 The New Testament and Qumran 143 Collins John J. Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Dead Sea Scrolls (2010); George J. Brooke, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament (2005); George Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity (2003), 48; and James VanderKam and Peter Flint, The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2002). See also Schiffman Lawrence H. Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls: The History of Judaism, the Background Background of Christianity, the Lost Library of Qumran (1994). 144 Recent work on Judean sectarian groups and culture: Collins, John J. Scriptures and Sectarianism: Essays on the Dead Sea Scrolls (2014); Collins John J. Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2009); Lynn LiDonnici Lynn and Lieber Andrea eds. Heavenly Tablets: Interpretation, Identity, and Tradition in Ancient Judaism JSJSup, 119 (2007) 177-92 145 ‘The sons of light,’ ‘the house of perfection and truth in Israel,’ the chosen ones, and so on (1QS 2.9; 3.25; 8.9; 11.7). Dunn Christianity in the Making—Vol 1—Jesus Remembered 86. 146 Standing on George Nickelsburg Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity (2003) 48. 147 Dunn, Christianity in the Making—Vol. 1—Jesus Remembered, 86. Streeter dated Matthew circa 85 CE in Antioch, the foundation for the contemporary consensus. 148 ‘Son of Man’ derives from Dan 7:13–14. See Dale C. Allison Jr. Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History (2010) 298–303. 149 See next segment and p. x and y for more on this topic and in G. W. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch (2001), 454–459. 150 Israel Knohl, The Messiah before Jesus: The Suffering Servant of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2000). 151 Watts Rikk Messianic Servant or the End of Israel’s Exilic Curses? Isaiah 53.4 in Matthew 8.17 Journal for the Study of the New Testament (September 2015) 38: 81-95. 152 Recent work on Judean sectarian groups and culture: Collins, John J. Scriptures and Sectarianism: Essays on the Dead Sea Scrolls (2014); Collins John J. Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2009); Lynn LiDonnici Lynn and Lieber Andrea eds. Heavenly Tablets: Interpretation, Identity, and Tradition in Ancient Judaism JSJSup, 119 (2007) 177-92. 153 Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins, for comments on the impact of DSS scholarship on the Christian origins. 154 See David Flusser, The Dead Sea Scrolls and Pre-Pauline Christianity (1988, 23–25. At the other end of this side of the spectrum we encounter Robert Eisenman and Barbara Theiring, who believe that the Dead Sea Scrolls originated in the first century with distinct connections to the early, and pre-Gentile, Jesus movement. 155 The arguments, attitudes, language, and imagery deployed by the Pauline-Lukan faction against the establishment of the Jesus movement seem to emulate the arguments, attitudes, language, and imagery that Jewish sectarians, most notably Qumran, deployed against the Jewish establishment. 156 With the exception of the Qumran community, there was no antecedent for the survival of a messianic sect after the death of its leader.16 Following Jesus’s death, the Qumran community (having survived the death of The Teacher of Righteousness) may have offered a template to follow. 494 157 Among the most important examples: Isaiah 42:52–53; Psalms 22, 69, 110, and 118:22Daniel 7- Hosea 6:2- Zecharia 12:10- Matthew 1:23 (standing on Isaiah 7:14). Habakkuk 2:4 is used in Qumran (Pesher Habakkuk) and in Romans 1:17, Galatians 3:11, and Hebrews 10:37– 380. 158 Knohl, The Messiah before Jesus. 159 Ibid.; Collins John J. The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature (1995). 160 Also in Daniel, 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, and 1Enoch. 161 S. Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews (1990), 130–131; and W. D. Davies, ‘Torah in the Messianic Age and/or the Age to Come,’ JBLMS 7 (1952), 21–28. 162 The Teacher of Righteousness in Qumran texts. Jesus in the New Testament. 163 In the non-canonical texts of the period it is found in Barnabas and in the Didache. See Didache (chaps. 1–6) and Barnabas (2.10, 18.2). See alsoVan de Sandt H. and D. Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (2002); Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 454–459. 164 For the John-Qumran connection see Mary L. Coloe and Tom Thatcher, eds., John, Qumran, and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Sixty Years of Discovery and Debate (2011). 165 G. Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls in English (1975), 265–268. 166 See Harold W. Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews (1989), 192–195. See also Barnabas Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews (1991), 75. 167 See Mark 1:4–6 and Matthew 3:1–6. The James Enigma 168 See Streeker The Four Gospels (1924), Kilpatrick G. D. The Origins of the Gospel according to St. Matthew (1946), Manson T. W. Sayings of Jesus (1949); Hartin Patrick James and the Q Sayings of Jesus JSNTSup 47 (1991); Van Voorst, Robert E. The Ascents of James: History and Theology of a Jewish Christian Community. SBL Dissertation Series 112 (1989); Bauckham R. ed. James and the Jerusalem Church in The Book of Acts in Its Palestinian Setting. Vol. 4 of The Book of Acts in Its First Century Setting Edited by Bruce W. Winter (1995) 417-80; Johnson Luke Timothy The Letter of James Anchor Bible 37A. (1995); Painter John Just James: The Brother of Jesus in History and Tradition (1997); Chilton B. and Evans C. A. Eds. James the Just and Christian Origins Supplements to Novum Testamentum 98 (1999) 33-57; Chilton Bruce and Jacob Neusner, eds. The Brother of Jesus: James the Just and His Mission (2001); Chilton B. and Evans C. A. Eds. Peter, James and the Gentiles in The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul: Tensions in Early Christianity Supplements to Novum Testamentum 115 (2005) 91142; Bauckham Richard James and the Jerusalem Community Jewish Believers in Jesus in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 55 -77. 169 Evans Craig A., Bauckham R., Chilton B., Neusner J., Painter John, Davids Peter H and others. 170 Amy-Jill Levine, Dale C. Allison Jr., and John Dominic Crossan, eds., The Historical Jesus in Context (2006). 171 See bibliography on the Q source, Pg. 415 172 For scholarship on Q and M see Pg. 415. 495 173 Bauckham Richard The Community's Self-Understanding in James and the Jerusalem Community in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 55-60. 174 List of canonical books in Greek. A Latin version was discovered by Muratori in the eighteen century. The date of the Greek original is disputed (second to fourth century). 175 Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in Chilton B., and J. Neusner The Brother of Jesus: James the Just and his Mission (2001). 176 Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar Jewish Christian Groups according to the Greek and Latin Fathers in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 419-505; Stanton Graham Jewish Christian Elements in the PseudoClementine Writings in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 305-323; Van de Sandt H. and D. Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (2002); Jones F. Stanley An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.2771. Christian Apocrypha Series 2 (1995). 177 Among them (Clarke 1856), Luther (1960:396) and (1967:424), Bultmann (1955:143), Kümmel (1975:416). 178 Luther Preface to the New Testament 1522; cf. Luther’s Works, vol. 35: 362. 179 On the history of the Epistle see L. T. Johnson, Brother of Jesus, Friend of God (2004), The Letter of James: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (1995). 10. Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 100. 180 Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 100 181 Amy-Jill Levine, Dale C. Allison Jr., and John Dominic Crossan, eds., The Historical Jesus in Context (2006) 182 Koester H. GNOMAI DIAPHOROI HTR 58 (1965) 279-318, Kloppenborg J. The Formation of Q (1987), Hartin P. James and the Q Sayings of Jesus JSNTSup 47(1991), Penner T. The Epistle of James and Eschatology: Rereading an Ancient Christian Letter JSNTSup 121(1996); Hartin P. Who is wise and understanding among you?' (James 3:13): An Analysis of Wisdom, Eschatology and Apocalypticism in the Epistle of James (1996) 483-503; Jackson-McCabe M. A Letter to the Twelve Tribes in the Diaspora: Wisdom and 'Apocalyptic' Eschatology in the Letter of James (1996) 504-17) . 183 The existence of these Gospels has been deducted from the writings of Jerome, Epiphanius, and Origen. See Klijn A. F. J. Jewish-Christian Gospel Tradition VCSup (1992) 27-30; Knox John The Origin of the Ebionites in The Image of the JudaeoChristians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003) 162-81; Evans Craig A. The Literary Heritage of Jewish Believers [Part Three] in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 241-278; Skarsaune Oskar The Ebionites in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 419-463; Kinzig Wolfram The Nazoraeans in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 463-488; afHällström Gunnar Cerinthus, Elxai, Elkesaites, and Sampseans in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 488-505; Skarsaune Oskar Jewish Christian Traditions in Origen in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 361-373. 496 184 Van de Sandt H. and D. Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (2002); van de Sandt, Huub and Zangenberg, eds. Introduction in Matthew, James and the Didache (2008) 1, Schröter Jens Problems with Pluralism in the Second Temple Judaism van de Sandt, Huub and Zangenberg, eds. in Matthew, James and the Didache (2008) 259-71; Draper Jonathan A. and Jefford Clayton N. The Didache: A Missing Piece of the Puzzle in Early Christianity SBLECL 14 (2015). 185 Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar Jewish Christian Groups according to the Greek and Latin Fathers in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 419-505; Stanton Graham Jewish Christian Elements in the PseudoClementine Writings in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 305-323; Van de Sandt H. and D. Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (2002); Jones F. Stanley An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.2771. Christian Apocrypha Series 2 (1995); Jones F. Stanley An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: PseudoClementine Recognitions 1.27-71. Christian Apocrypha Series 2 (1995), Painter John Who was James? The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 61-62. 186 My views in this subchapter are indebted to Mark D. Nanos ed. The Galatians Debate: Contemporary Issues in Rhetorical and Historical Interpretation (2002), and Zetterholm Magnus The Didache, Matthew, James—and Paul: Reconstructing Historical Developments in Antioch in Matthew, James, and Didache (2008). 187 Bauckham Richard Leadership in James and the Jerusalem Community in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 66-70; Hidal Sten The Emergence of Christianity in Syria 568 in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 568-581. 188 Streeter B.H. The Four Gospels. A Study of Origins Treating the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship, & Dates (1930) 511-12. 189 The foundational work is Streeter B.H. The Four Gospels. A Study of Origins Treating the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship, & Dates (1930) 232; Flusser David Evidence Corroborating a Modified Proto-Matthean Synoptic Theory NTS 29 (1983); Evans Craig A. Comparing Judaisms in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. James the Just and His Mission (2001) 182, Schröter Jens Problems with Pluralism in the Second Temple Judaism van de Sandt, Huub and Zangenberg, eds. Introduction in Matthew, James and the Didache (2008) 259-71. 190 Streeter B.H. The Four Gospels. A Study of Origins Treating the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship, & Dates (1930) 513. 191 Zetterholm Magnus The Didache, Matthew, James—and Paul: Reconstructing Historical Developments in Antioch in Matthew, James, and Didache (2008); Hidal Sten The Emergence of Christianity in Syria 568 in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 568-581; Zetterholm, Magnus Purity and Anger: Gentiles and Idolatry in Antioch Interdisciplinary Journal of Research on Religion (2005) 17–18; Painter John in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) Lieu Judith, neither Jew nor Greek? in The Ways that never Parted (2003); Zetterholm Magnus The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social-Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and Christianity (2003); Painter John Just James: The Brother of Jesus in History and Tradition (1997 2nd ed.); Painter John Who was James? in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001). 497 Mark D. Nanos, ‘What Was at Stake in Peter’s ‘eating with Gentiles’ at Antioch?’ in The Galatians Debate: Contemporary Issues in Rhetorical and Historical Interpretation Ed. M. D. Nanos (2002) 282–318. 193 Dieter Mitternacht, Foolish Galatians? A Recipient-Oriented Assessment of Paul’s Letter’ in Nanos, ed., Galatians Debate, 408–32: 431–32; Mark D. Nanos The Irony of Galatians: Pauls’ Letter in First Century Context (2001) 257–71. 194 See also 1 Cor 1:2; 3:17; 6:1–2, 19; 7:14; Phil 1:10; 2:14; 4:21; 1 Thess 4:3, 7. 195 Terrance Callan, The Background of the Apostolic Decree (Acts 15:20, 29; 21:25) CBQ 55 (1993) 28–97. Cf. Acts 15:29; 21:25. 196 Zetterholm, Formation of Christianity in Antioch, 13–9. See also John C. Hurd, The Origin of 1 Corinthians (1983, 1965) 259–62; Mark D. Nanos, The Mystery of Romans: The Jewish Context of Paul’s Letter 50–56. 197 Other interpretations: Nanos, Irony of Galatians, 152–5; Nanos, What Was at Stake in Peter’s ‘eating with Gentiles 285–92; Zetterholm, Magnus Purity and Anger: Gentiles and Idolatry in Antioch Interdisciplinary Journal of Research on Religion (2005) 17–18, Zetterholm Magnus The Didache, Matthew, James—and Paul: Reconstructing Historical Developments in Antioch in Matthew, James, and Didache (2008) 84-6. 198 Bauckham Richard James, Peter, and the Gentiles in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 125-6. 199 Zetterholm Magnus The Didache, Matthew, James—and Paul: Reconstructing Historical Developments in Antioch in Matthew, James, and Didache (2008) 86 200 Bauckham Richard Mission and Gentile Believers in James and the Jerusalem Community in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 70-75. 201 Other possible interpretations of Gal 2:12: Nanos, Irony of Galatians, 152–5; Nanos, What Was at Stake in Peter’s ‘eating with Gentiles 285–92; Zetterholm, Magnus Purity and Anger: Gentiles and Idolatry in Antioch Interdisciplinary Journal of Research on Religion (2005) 17– 18. 202 Esler P. a New Reading of Galatians 2:1-14 in Biblical Interpretation: A Journal of Contemporary Approaches (1995) 285–31. 203 For further discussion, see Zetterholm Magnus The Didache, Matthew, James—and Paul: Reconstructing Historical Developments in Antioch in Matthew, James, and Didache (2008) 846, and Bauckham Richard James, Peter, and the Gentiles in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 125-6. 204 See J. D. G. Dunn, The Incident at Antioch JSNT 18 (1982) 3-57; and P. J. Hartin, James and the Q Sayings of Jesus JSNTSup 47 (1991) 230. 205 M. Goulder, A Tale of Two Missions (1994) 3, 108. 206 Contra Streeter B.H. The Four Gospels. A Study of Origins Treating the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship, & Dates (1930) 514-15. 207 There are traces and insinuations of the term ‘New Israel’ in Matthew, Hebrews, and in the Pauline letters but the unequivocal and overt claim to the designation ‘New Israel’ does not occur in any of the New Testament documents. I assume the use of this designation, or similar and equivalent ones, by the Jewish followers of Jesus. 208 Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 100. 209 See R. N. Longenecker, Galatians CWBC 41(1990); D. Wenham (ed.). The Book of Acts in its Ancient Literary Setting (1993) chap. 9; Bauckham (ed.), The Book of Acts in its Palestinian 192 498 Setting chap. 15 (1995); There are significant differences between Paul and Acts about Paul's two visits to Jerusalem (FIRST - Gal 1:18-20 and Acts 9:26-30, SECOND - Gal 2:1-10 and Acts 15). However, the discrepancies for the first visit are much more consequential. are more far reaching than the regarding the second visit. 210 Betz Hans Dieter Galatians in A Critical & Historical Commentary on the Bible (1989) 106. 211 Painter John in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 176-7. 212 Painter Paul in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 193-4; Cohen, Shaye JD. The ways that parted: Jews, Christians, and Jewish-Christians ca. 100-150 CE (2013), 3. 213 Bauckham Richard Leadership in James and the Jerusalem Community in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 66-70; See summary in Painter, John Just James: The Brother of Jesus in History and Tradition (1997). 214 Painter John Who was James? in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 32-35. 215 On the proto-orthodox ambivalent casting of James Hartin Patrick J. James of Jerusalem: Heir to Jesus of Nazareth (2004) 135-40. 216 Bauckham Richard the Jerusalem Community after James Jewish Believers in Jesus in The New Testament and Related Material in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 77-81. 217 Painter John Who was James? In The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 61-62. 218 McCartney, Dan G (2009). Robert W Yarbrough and Robert H Stein, ed. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament: James. 219 Allison, D.C., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle of James, T&T Clark, New York/London/New Delhi/Sydney, Bloomsbury. (International Critical Commentary), 6768 220 Allison Dale C. The Jewish Setting of the Epistle of James (2015) In die Skriflig 49(1), Art. #1897 221 Has been found to be remarkably similar to the Septuagint’s Greek and would have required more exposure to Hellenistic culture and learning than James’ background would seem to grant. 222 For support of this argument see F. 0. Francis The Form and Function of the Opening and Closing Paragraphs of James and 1 John ZNW 61 (1970) 110-26. 223 Martin Dibelius, James: A Commentary on the Epistle of James, ed. Helmut Koester; trans. M. A. Williams (1975). 224 Ibid., 6. 225 Wisdom: Hartin Patrick J. James and the Q Sayings of Jesus JSNTSup 47 (1991): 23-35, 4243, Mullins T. Y. Jewish Wisdom Literature in the New Testament JBL 68 (1949) 339. Eschatology: Penner Todd The Epistle of James and Eschatology: Re-reading an Ancient Christian Letter, JSNTSS, 121 (1996). Jackson-McCabe Matt, A Letter to the Twelve Tribes in the Diaspora: Wisdom and ‘Apocalyptic’ Eschatology in the Letter of James in SBL Seminar Papers (1996): 504-17; Penner, Todd C. The Epistle of James and Eschatology JSNT Sup 121 (1996) and Verseput Donald J. Wisdom, 4Q185, and the Epistle of James JBL 117 (1998): 691707, favor an eschatological background for James and question the more established label of wisdom literature. Both: John J. Collins, ‘Wisdom, Apocalypticism, and Generic Compatibility’, in L. G. Perdue, B. B. Scott, and W. J. Wiseman, eds., In the Search of Wisdom: Essays in 499 Memory of John G. Gammie (Louisville: Westminster, 1993): 165-86, Bauckham, James Wisdom of James, Disciple of Jesus the Sage (1999) 33, Lockett, Darian R. 2005. ‘The Spectrum of Wisdom and Eschatology in the Epistle of James and 4QInstruction,’ Tyndale Bulletin 56 (2005) 132-3. 226 McKnight Scot, The Letter of James, New International Commentary on the New Testament (2011) 227 Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 100 228 Hartin, Patrick J. A Spirituality of Perfection: Faith in Action in the Letter of James (1999) 3 229 Standing on Davids Peter H. The Literary evidence in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 50-1. 230 Allison Dale C. The Jewish Setting of the Epistle of James (2015) In die Skriflig 49(1), Art. #1897 pg. 3-4 231 Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in Chilton B., and J. Neusner The Brother of Jesus: James the Just and his Mission (2001) among many. 232 Standing on Painter John The Power of Words: Rhetoric in James and Paul in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 270 233 Hartin, Patrick J. A Spirituality of Perfection: Faith in Action in the Letter of James (1999) 234 Allison Dale C. The Jewish Setting of the Epistle of James (2015) In die Skriflig 49(1), Art. #1897 pg. 2. 235 Allison Dale C. The Jewish Setting of the Epistle of James (2015) In die Skriflig 49(1), Art. #1897 pg. 3 236 Painter John James and Peter models of leadership and mission in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 205. 237 Recent contributions: Horrell David G. and Wei Hsien Wan Christology, Eschatology and the Politics of Time in 1 Peter Journal for the Study of the New Testament (March 2016) ; Hurtado L. and Bond H. eds. Peter in History and Tradition (2015) 130-45; Horrell David G. Ethnicity, Empire, and Early Christian Identity: Social-Scientifi c Perspectives on 1 Peter in Mason Eric F. and Martin Troy W. eds.Reading 1–2 Peter and Jude (2014) 135-151 Bockmuehl Markus Simon Peter in Scripture and Memory: The New Testament Apostle in the Early Church (2012) 32; Foster Paul The Gospel of Peter: Introduction, Critical Edition and Commentary TENTS 4 (2010) 91, Lapham Fred Peter: The Myth, the Man and the Writings JSNTSup 239 (2003). Earlier contributions: Selwyn Edward G. The First Epistle of St. Peter (1947) 7-63; Elliott John H. The Rehabilitation of an Exegetical Step-Child: 1 Peter in Recent Research (1976) 118-38; Michaels J. Ramsey 1 Peter WBC 49 (1988); Soards Marion L. 1 Peter, 2 Peter, and Jude as Evidence for a Petrine School ANRW II.25.5 (1988). 238 The Apocryphon of James (first half of second century), Protevangelium of James (second half of second century). First and Second Apocalypse of James, the Gospel of Peter (mid-second century). Apocalypse of Peter (first half of second century), Kerygma Petrou (second century), Kerygmata Petrou (c. 200 C.E.), Acts of Peter (180-190 C.E.), the Letter of Peter to Philip (late second century), or the Act of Peter (c. 200 CE or later) – In Davids Peter H. The Literary evidence in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 8. 239 Painter John James and Peter models of leadership and mission in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 209 240 Painter Paul in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 191 500 241 Davids Peter H. The Literary evidence in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 51. 242 Chilton Bruce Conclusions and Questions in Chilton B in Chilton, B., and C. Evans. James the Just and Christian Origins (1999). 243 Popkes Ward The Mission of James in His Time in Chilton B., and J. Neusner The Brother of Jesus: James the Just and his Mission (2001). 244 Edgar David Hutchinson, Has God Not Chosen the Poor? The Social Setting of the Epistle of James Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement Series 206 (2001) 250. 245 Painter John Just James: The Brother of Jesus in History and Tradition (1997 2nd ed.) 246 Matt Jackson-McCabe Logos and Law in the Letter of James (2001). 247 Mitchell Margaret M., The Letter of James as a Document of Paulinism? in Webb, Robert L., and John S. Kloppenborg, eds. Reading James with New Eyes: Methodological Reassessments of the Letter of James (2007) 75–98. 248 McKnight Scot, The Letter of James, New International Commentary on the New Testament (2011) 263. 249 Chilton Bruce James, Peter, Paul, and the Formation of the Gospels in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005). 250 My summary of Painter John The Power of Words: Rhetoric in James and Paul in Chilton Bruce James, Peter, Paul, and the Formation of the Gospels in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 269. 251 Streeter B.H. The Four Gospels. A Study of Origins Treating the Manuscript Tradition, Sources, Authorship, & Dates (1930) 511-12. 252 Hartin, Patrick J. A Spirituality of Perfection: Faith in Action in the Letter of James (1999) 77, 81, 84, McKnight Scot A Parting of the Way: Jesus and James on Israel and Purity in Chilton B., and J. Neusner The Brother of Jesus: James the Just and his Mission (2001), Painter John in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 197-2007, Edgar David Hutchinson, Has God Not Chosen the Poor? The Social Setting of the Epistle of James Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement Series 206 (2001). 253 Hartin Patrick J. Law and Ethics in Matthew’s Antitheses and James’s Letter 315, van de Sandt, Huub and Zangenberg, eds. Introduction in Matthew, James and the Didache (2008) 365, also Hartin, Patrick J. A Spirituality of Perfection: Faith in Action in the Letter of James (1999) 77, 81, 84. 254 Lockett, Darian R. Structure or Communicative Strategy? The 'Two Ways' Motif in James' Theological Instruction Neotestamentica 42, no. 2 (2008): 269-87, Van De Sandt, Huub. James 4,1-4 in the Light of the Jewish Two Ways Tradition 3,1-6 Biblica 88.1 (2007): 38-63. 255 van de Sandt, Huub and Zangenberg, eds. Introduction in Matthew, James and the Didache (2008) 6- 7. 256 McKnight Scot, The Letter of James, New International Commentary on the New Testament (2011). 257 Painter John James and Peter models of leadership and mission in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 208. 258 Painter John in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 222. 259 Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 105. 501 260 Hartin, Patrick J. The Letter of James: Faith Leads to Action, Word & World, Volume 35, Number 3 (2015) 229. 261 Schröter Jens Problems with Pluralism in the Second Temple Judaism van de Sandt, Huub and Zangenberg, eds. Introduction in Matthew, James and the Didache (2008) 259-71. 262 Baker W. R. Personal Speech-Ethics: A Study of the Epistle of James Against Its Background WUNT 2/68 (1995), Lockett D. R. Purity and Worldview in the Epistle of James LNTS 366 (2008) and Batten A. J. Friendship and Benefaction in James Emory Studies in Early Christianity 15 (2010). 263 Penner, Todd C. The Epistle of James and Eschatology: Re-reading an Ancient Christian Letter (1996). 264 Hartin, Patrick J. A Spirituality of Perfection: Faith in Action in the Letter of James (1999), Hartin, Patrick J. James of Jerusalem: Heir to Jesus of Nazareth (2004), McKnight Scot, The Letter of James, New International Commentary on the New Testament (2011). 265 Martin Dibelius, James: A Commentary on the Epistle of James, ed. Helmut Koester; trans. M. A. Williams (1975). 266 Witherington Ben III The Many Faces of the Christ The Christologies of the New Testament and Beyond (1998) 201, cf. Bauckham 1998, Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in The brother of Jesus: James the Just and his mission in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 135. 267 Evans Craig A. Comparing Judaisms in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. James the Just and His Mission (2001) 182-3; Part Five - Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar Jewish Christian Groups according to the Greek and Latin Fathers in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 419-505. 268 Painter John James and Peter models of leadership and mission in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 209. 269 See Bauckham Richard Mission and Gentile Believers in James and the Jerusalem Community in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 70-75. 270 Painter John James and Peter models of leadership and mission in Chilton Bruce & Evans Craig The Missions of James, Peter, and Paul (2005) 206-7. A Growing Tension 271 On the cross-influence among Judaism, Christianity, and Gnosticism, see Alan F. Segal in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, Stephen G. Wilson, ed. (1986), 133–162. 272 Both sides of the debate among Jews considered Jesus an exalted human, not a divine being. 273 For bibliography on the appropriation of the Jewish scriptures by Pauline believers see pg. 415 274 D. R. A. Hare, ‘The Rejection of the Jews in the Synoptic Gospels and Acts,’ in Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity, A. T. Davis, ed. (1979), 28–32. What is at stake 275 During the second century Paulines split into Pauline-Lukan and Pauline-Marcionite strands. 276 For an updated review on ‘the historical Jesus,’ see Amy-Jill Levine, Dale C. Allison Jr., and John Dominic Crossan, eds., The Historical Jesus in Context (2006). 277 The better known—L. Vaganay (Mark drew on proto-Mark), B. H. Streeter (proto-Luke first, second edition drew on Mark), and C. Lachmann and H. J. Holtzmann (Matt and Luke draw on 502 proto-Mark). Other proposals include Koester’s ‘dialogue Gospel’ and Crossan’s ‘Cross Gospel’ whose existence as separate texts or textual traditions are hotly debated. 05 – Chapter 5 - Crisis in the Jesus movement 278 On early diversity, see R. E. Brown, ‘Not Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity but Types of Jewish/Gentile Christianity,’ CBQ 45 (January 1983). 279 On the Jewish followers of Jesus during the New Testament era Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 87-93; Taylor Joan E The Phenomenon of Early Jewish Christianity: Reality or Scholarly In The Image of the Judaeo-Christians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003); Van de Sandt H. and D. Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (2002); Hengel, Martin. Early Christianity as a Jewish-Messianic, Universalist Movement in Conflicts and Challenges in Early Christianity. Edited by D. A. Hagner (1999) 1-41; Paget James Carleton Jewish Christianity in vol. 3 of The Cambridge History of Judaism Edited by William Horbury, W. D. Davies, and John Sturdy (1999) 731-75; McLaren, J. S. Christians and the Jewish Revolt, 66-70 C.E in Ancient History in a Modern University. Vol. 2. Edited by T. W. Hillard, R. A. Kearsley, and A. M. Nobbs. (1998) 54-60; Flusser D. Paul’s Jewish-Christian Opponents in the Didache in Gilgul: Essays on Transformation, Revolution and Permanence in the History of Religions. Edited by S. Shaked et al. (1987) 71-90; For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415. 280 For bibliography on the appropriation of the Jewish scriptures by Pauline believers see pg. 415. 281 I present these two types of communities as a conceptual model, see Magnus Zetterholm, The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social-Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and Christianity (2003), who advocates a secession of Gentile believers in Jesus from a synagogue of Jewish followers of Jesus as the pivot for the separation of the two communities in Antioch. 282 For this proportion, see the prosopographic review by Reidar Hvalvik in Oskar Skarsaune and Reidar Hvalvik, eds., Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007), chapter 6. 283 Tomson Peter J., Studies on Jews and Christians in the First and Second Centuries (210) 55979 284 James R. Mueller, in Antisemitism and Early Christianity, Craig Evans and Donald Hagner, eds. (1993), 257, who points to Walter Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, R. Kraft and G. Krodel, eds. (1971); H. Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, vol. 2: History and Literature of Early Christianity (1982); and HenneckeSchneemelcher-Wilson, New Testament Apocrypha, 1.134–78, the earliest to identify this phenomenon. Mark 285 On interdependence among the Synoptic Gospels, see Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah (1994), 40–46. 286 The minority view (that Mark is the latest of the Gospels) is presented by William Farmer in Rethinking the Synoptic Problem, David Alan Black and David R. Beck, eds. (2001). 3. See Craig Evans in Reading the Gospels Today, Porter Stanley, ed. (2004), 1–8, for an updated defense of Mark’s priority. 503 Mark is the first Gospel (the “Perrin school”); Mark is the first written Gospel (W. Kelber); Mark and the redeemer myth (B. Mack); Mark is antiapostolic (T. J. Weeden, W. Kelber); Mark tames the original traditions (H. Koester. 288 Recently: Joel Marcus Mark—Interpreter of Paul NTS 46 (2000) 473–87; Wischmeyer Oda, Sim David C. and Elmer, Ian J. eds. For and against Pauline Influence on Mark in Mark and Paul, Comparative Essays Part 1 (2014). 289 Recent: Bock, Darrell L. Mark (NCBC) (2015); Strauss, Mark L. Mark (ZECNT) (2014); Marcus, Joel. Mark, 2 vols. (AB, rev.) (2000 and 2009); Janice Capel Anderson and Stephen D. Moore, eds., Mark and Method: New Approaches in Biblical Studies (2008); Culpepper, R. Alan. Mark (SHBC). M (2007). Mason Steve, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories (2009); 296. Also, Iverson, Kelly R. and Christopher W. Skinner, eds. Mark as Story: Retrospect and Prospect (2011) for methodological developments of narrative criticism in Mark. 290 On Mark and the Roman context: Thiessen Matthew The Many for One or One for the Many? Reading Mark 10:45 in the Roman Empire HTR 109:3 (2016) 447–466; and C. Clifton Black, Mark (ANTC; Nashville: Abingdon, 2011); Winn Adam The Purpose of Mark’s Gospel: An Early Christian Response to Imperial Propaganda (WUNT 2/245 (2008); Roskam Hendrika N. The Purpose of the Gospel of Mark in its Historical and Social Context NovTSup 114 (2004); Kaminouchi Alberto de Mingo But it is Not So Among You’: Echoes of Power in Mark 10.32–45 JSNTSup 249 (2003) 161; Peterson Dwight N. The Origins of Mark: The Markan Community in Current Debate (2000). 291 Supersession, or replacement, theology – Traditional: The view that Christianity was superior to Judaism in every way and replaced it as the People of God. My suggestion: Supersession theology is the theological articulation of the Pauline claim to the exclusive custody of Jesus’s legacy. In other words, supersession is the view that Paul’s interpretation of Jesus’s legacy replaced the beliefs and traditions of Jesus’s disciples and first followers as the foundation of belief in Jesus. 292 Recent contributions on Jesus and the food laws in Mark: Rudolph David J. Jesus and the Food Laws: A Reassessment of Mark 7:19b The Evangelical Quarterly 74.4 (Oct.-Dec. 2002) 291-311; Neufield Dietmar Jesus’ Eating Transgressions and Social Impropriety in the Gospel of Mark: A Social Scientific Approach Biblical Theology Bulletin 30.(2000). 293 On the Jewish followers of Jesus in the Q source and Mark: Q is believed to be the earliest source, generally dated 40–50 CE.- Kloppenborg John S Composing Matthew by Recomposing Q: The Composition of Matt 23–25.’ (2016); An Early Reader of Mark and Q van Belle Gilbert and Verheyden Josef eds. Biblical Tools and Studies, vol. 21, 187–215 (2016); Harb G. (ed.), Documenta Q: Reconstructions of Q through Two Centuries of Gospel Research Excerpted, Sorted and Evaluated (2012); D.A. Smith D.A. Matthew and Q: The Matthean Deployment of Mark and Q in the Apocalyptic Discourse ETL 85 (2009) 99-116; Burkett Delbert The Unity and Plurality of Q (2009); Kloppenborg John S Q, The Earliest Gospel: An Introduction to the Original Sayings and Stories of Jesus (2008); Luz Ulrich Matthew and Q (2005); Dunn, Christianity in the Making—Vol 1— Jesus Remembered (2003) 60, 144, 147; Darrell Bock, in Rethinking the Synoptic Problem, David Alan Black and David R. Beck, eds. (2001); Robinson James M., Hoffmann Paul, and Kloppenborg John S. eds. The Critical Edition of Q (2000); Kloppenborg J. S., Excavating Q: The History and Setting of the Sayings Gospel (2000), Robinson J.M. The Matthean Trajectory from Q to Mark, in Yarboro Collins (ed.), Ancient and Modern Perspectives on the Bible and Culture (1998) 122-15; Chapter 1; Christopher Tuckett, Q and the History of Early Christianity (1996); Brown R. E. The Death of the Messiah (1994); 287 504 Hartin Patrick James and the Q Sayings of Jesus JSNTSup 47 (1991); Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels (1990), 128–171; Kloppenborg J. The Formation of Q (1987); John Dominic Crossan, Four Other Gospels: Shadows on the Contours of Canon (1986); For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415. On Mark’s appropriation of the Hebrew Scriptures: Evans C.A. How Septuagintal is Isa. 5:1-7 in Mark 12:1-9? Novum Testamentum 45.2 (2003) 105-110; De Jonge Henk Jan The Cleansing of the Temple in Mark 11:15 and Zechariah 14:21 in: C. M. Tuckett (ed). The Book of Zechariah and Its Influence (2003) 87-100; Watt's Rikk The Psalms in Mark's Gospel in Moyise Steve & M. J. J. Menken eds. Psalms in The New Testament: The New Testament and the Scriptures of Israel (2004); Kloppenborg J.S. Isa 5:1-7 LXX And Mark 12:1, 9, Again Novum Testamentum 46.1 (2004) 12-19; Hooker D. Morna Isaiah in Mark's Gospel in Moyise Steve & M. J. J. Menken eds. Isaiah in the New Testament: The New Testament and the Scriptures of Israel (2005); Moyise Steve Deuteronomy in Mark’s Gospel in: Steve Moyise & M. J. J. Menken eds. Deuteronomy in the New Testament: The New Testament and the Scriptures of Israel (2007) 27-41. 294 Similar arguments in Kelber Werner, The Oral and the Written Gospel (1983), 130–131; and Lindsey P. Pherigo, The Gospel According to Mark in the Interpreter’s One Volume Commentary on the Bible (1971), 644. 295 Attempts to decipher Mark’s characterization of the disciples and the ‘incomprehension’ motif abound: Neufeld, Dietmar Mockery and Secretism in the Social World of Mark’s Gospel (2014); MacDonald, D.K. The characterisation of a false disciple: Judas Iscariot in Mark’s Gospel McMaster Journal of Theology and Ministry 15 (2013)119–135; Iverson, Kelly R. Wherever the Gospel Is Preached’: The Paradox of Secrecy in the Gospel of Mark in Kelly R. Iverson and Christopher W. Skinner eds. Mark as Story: Retrospect and Prospect (2011) 181– 209; for an updated survey of scholarship on the Markan disciples see Black, C. Clifton The Disciples According to Mark: Markan Redaction in Current Debate (2012); Watson, David F. Honor among Christians: The Cultural Key to the Messianic Secret (2010); Steve Mason, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories (2009), 1297, Guijarro Santiago The First Disciples of Jesus in Galilee Hervormde Teologiese Studies 63.3 (2007) 885908; Skinner, Christopher W. Whom He Also Named Apostles: A Textual Problem in Mark 3:14 Bibliotheca Sacra (2004) 322–9; Wilkins Michael J. Unique Discipleship to a Unique Master: Discipleship in the Gospel according to Mark Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 8.3 (2004) 50-68; Maloney Linda Mark and Mystery Currents in Theology and Mission 30.6 (2003) 433437; Donahue, John and Daniel Harrington The Gospel of Mark (2002); Henderson, Suzanne W. Concerning the Loaves: Comprehending Incomprehension in Mark 6.45-52 JSNT 83 (2001) 326; Moo Douglas J. Question Mark: Understanding the Gospel of Mark Leicester: Religious & Theological Studies Fellowship (2000); Malbon Elizabeth Struthers in the Company of Jesus: Characters in Mark’s Gospel (2000). Danove Paul Paul The Narrative Rhetoric of Mark’s Ambiguous Characterization of the Disciples JSNT 70 (1998) 21-38; Camery-Hoggatt, Jerry Irony in Mark’s Gospel: Text and Subtext SNTSMS, 72 (1992); Fowler, Robert M. Let the Reader Understand: ReaderResponse Criticism and the Gospel of Mark (1991); Matera, Frank J. 1989 The Incomprehension of the Disciples and Peter’s Confession (Mark 6,14– 8,30) Biblica 70: (1989) 153-72; Best, Ernest Disciples and Discipleship: Studies in the Gospel according to Mark (1986); Donahue, John R. The Theology and Setting of Discipleship in the Gospel of Mark (1983); Hawkin, David J. The Incomprehension of the Disciples in Markan Redaction JBL 91 (1972) 491-500; Tyson, Joseph B. The Blindness of the Disciples in Mark JBL 80 (1961) 261-68. 505 296 On this subject, see, e.g., T. J. Weeden, Mark: Traditions in Conflict (1971); J. B. Tyson, The Blindness of the Disciples in Mark JBL 80 (1961), 261–268. 297 Recent scholarship on Gentiles in Mark: Gamel, Brian K., Salvation in a Sentence: Mark 15.39 as Markan Soteriology’, Journal of Theological Interpretation 6 (2012) 65–78; Iverson, Kelly R., A Centurion’s ‘Confession’: A Performance-Critical Analysis of Mark 15:39 JBL 130 (2011) 329–50; Iverson, Kelly R. Gentiles in the Gospel of Mark: ‘Even the Dogs Under the Table Eat the Children’s Crumbs (2007); Johnson Earl S. Mark 15.39 and the So-Called Confession of the Roman Centurion Biblica 81.3 (2000) 406-413; Shiner Whitney T. The Ambiguous Pronouncement of the Centurion and the Shrouding of Meaning in Mark Journal for the Study of the New Testament 78 (2000) 3–22 298 See Robert A. Guelich (Mark 1:8–26, c1989, 361–362), R. P. Booth, ‘Jesus and the Laws of Purity: Tradition History and Legal History in Mark 7,’ JSNT Sup 13 (1986), 55–114; James G. D. Dunn, Jesus, Paul and the Law (1990), 37–60. 299 Similar views in Steve Mason, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories (2009), 1297 300 See bibliography on the responsibility for Jesus’ death pg. 415. 301 Israel Knohl, The Messiah before Jesus: The Suffering Servant of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2000). 302 For the historical Pilate, see Helen Bond, Pontius Pilate in History and Interpretation (1998); and Warren Carter, Pontius Pilate: Portraits of a Roman Governor (2003). 303 See Michael J. Cook, Mark’s Treatment of the Jewish Leaders (1978), for a detailed discussion of this topic and for the peculiar exclusion of the Pharisees and Sadducees. 304 Adiel Schremer, Brothers Estranged: Heresy, Christianity, and Jewish Identity in Late Antiquity (2010) 306 Steve Mason, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories (2009), 298 See chapter on Matthew – Matthew´s repudiation of Mark. Also: Steve Mason, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories (2009), 296-9 307 Matthew 308 On the Jewish followers of Jesus and Matthew: Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 49-59; Skarsaune and Hvalvik, Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007); Skarsaune Oskar The History of Jewish Believers in the Early Centuries in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 745-777; Craig A. Evans Matthew: A New Testament Jewish Gospel in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 242-245; Skarsaune Oskar Jewish-Christian Gospels: Which and How Many? In Ancient Israel, Judaism, and Christianity in Contemporary Perspective Edited by Jacob Neusner et al. Studies in Judaism (2006) 393-408; Hare Douglas R. A. How Jewish is the Gospel of Matthew? Catholic Biblical Quarterly 62 (2000) 264-77; Saldarini Anthony J. Matthew's Christian-Jewish Community (1994). On the M material in Matthew: Stephenson Brooks Matthew's Community: The Evidence of his Special Sayings Material (2015), Amy-Jill Levine The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (2014), Meier John P. The Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds (Matthew 13:24—30) JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 715-732; On the M material: Stephenson Brooks Matthew's Community: The Evidence of his Special Sayings Material (2015). Meier John P. The Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds (Matthew 13:24—30) JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 715-732; Snodgrass Klyne R. Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus (2008); Davies and Dale C. 506 Allison, Jr. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (1997) 2:403-18; Kingsbury Jack Dean The Parables of Jesus in Matthew 13: A Study in in Redaction-Criticism (1969); For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415. 309 Probably written around 85–95 CE —Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community; and J. D. Crossan, Who Killed Jesus? (1995), 16. 310 Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 1. 311 Standing on Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 50, 55. Further reading in W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew (1991), vol. 1, 32. 5.1 Flavious Josephus Antiquities XVII 2, 4 (41-5) reports on 6000 Pharisees during Herod’s reign.; Saldarini, Anthony J. Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian society (1988) 273, 277; ‘The level of animosity, unprecedented in Matthew, let alone the other Gospels, strongly suggests that the scribes and Pharisees stand for contemporaries with whom the author is in conflict.’ Wilson, Related Strangers, 50; The scribes and the Pharisees are the main Matthean enemies. Peter Tomson Jews and the New Testament Authors (2001), 276; Runesson, Anders Rethinking Early Jewish—Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intragroup Conflict JBL 127 (2008) 95-132; Recent survey on the Pharisees in the NT: Marshall, Mary. The Portrayals of the Pharisees in the Gospels and Acts (2015). Also Philip F. Esler Intergroup Conflict and Matthew 23: Towards Responsible Historical Interpretation of a Challenging Text BTB 45 (2015) 38–59. 312 Steve Mason, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories (2009), 298 313 Flavious Josephus Antiquities XVII 2, 4 (41-5) reports on 6000 Pharisees during Herod‘s reign.; Saldarini, Anthony J. Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian society (1988) 273, 277; ―The level of animosity, unprecedented in Matthew, let alone the other Gospels, strongly suggests that the scribes and Pharisees stand for contemporaries with whom the author is in conflict. Wilson, Related Strangers, 50; The scribes and the Pharisees are the main Matthean enemies. Peter Tomson Jews and the New Testament Authors (2001), 276; Runesson, Anders Rethinking Early Jewish—Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intragroup Conflict JBL 127 (2008) 95-132; Recent survey on the Pharisees in the NT: Marshall, Mary. The Portrayals of the Pharisees in the Gospels and Acts (2015). Also Philip F. Esler Intergroup Conflict and Matthew 23: Towards Responsible Historical Interpretation of a Challenging Text BTB 45 (2015) 38–59 314 Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community (1994) 315 R. E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah (1994), 388. 316 R. E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah (1994), 28–30. 317 Recent scholarship: Brown, Jeannine K. Matthew (TTC) (2015); Evans, Craig A. Matthew (NCBC) (2012); Osborne, Grant R. Matthew (ZECNT) (2010); Keener, Craig S. The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary. 2nd edition. (2009); David Sim and Boris Repschinski, eds., Matthew and His Christian Contemporaries (2008) Luz, Ulrich. Matthew 3 vols. (Hermeneia). (2001-7). 318 My interpretation of Wayne Meeks, ed., Library of Early Christianity (1986), 110. 319 ‘[T]he polemic corresponds to the established Jewish tradition of prophetic polemic against the political establishment in Jerusalem, and the people who had been misled by their leaders.’ Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels (1990), 230. 320 For Markan-Matthean divergences, see Jesper Svartvik in Matthew and His Christian Contemporaries, David Sim and Boris Repschinski, eds. (2008), Chapter 2. 507 321 In this case from later to earlier, instead of the normal flow of authority from earlier to later traditions. 322 The term ‘proto-Matthean’ includes Q and textual traditions originating in the Jewish followers of Jesus that may have been incorporated into Q and/or a proto-Matthean intermediate phase. See David Flusser, The Dead Sea Scrolls and Pre-Pauline Christianity (1988), 578–590; and Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels, 170–171. For a detailed presentation of the theory of a Proto-Matthew, see Malcom Lowe and David Flusser, ‘Evidence Corroborating a Modified Proto-Matthean Synoptic Theory,’ NTS 29 (1983), 25–47. Stendahl’s work is also supportive of a layered Matthew. 323 On Matthew’s authorship, see Craig A. Evans Matthew: A New Testament Jewish Gospel in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 242-245; B. Przybylski in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, Peter Richardson and David Granskou, eds. (1986), vol. 1, 181– 200; W. D. Davies and D. C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (1988), vol. 1, 7–58; G. N. Stanton, A Gospel for a New People: Studies in Matthew (1992), 131–139; Saldarini Anthony J. Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community (1994) 7–10; and Wilson, Related Strangers, 46–56. 324 David Flusser and Malcom Lowe, A Modified Proto-Matthean Synoptic Theory NTS 29 (1983). On the M material in Matthew: Kloppenborg John S Composing Matthew by Recomposing Q: The Composition of Matt 23–25.’ (2016); An Early Reader of Mark and Q van Belle Gilbert and Verheyden Josef eds. Biblical Tools and Studies, vol. 21, 187–215 (2016); Stephenson Brooks Matthew's Community: The Evidence of his Special Sayings Material (2015). Amy-Jill Levine The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (2014), Meier John P. The Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds (Matthew 13:24—30) JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 715732; On the M material: Stephenson Brooks Matthew's Community: The Evidence of his Special Sayings Material (2015). Meier John P. The Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds (Matthew 13:24—30) JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 715-732; Snodgrass Klyne R. Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus (2008); Robinson James M., Hoffmann Paul, and Kloppenborg John S. eds. The Critical Edition of Q (2000); Davies and Dale C. Allison, Jr. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (1997) 2:40318; Kingsbury Jack Dean The Parables of Jesus in Matthew 13: A Study in Redaction-Criticism (1969); For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415. 325 A sample of relevant scholarship: Craig A. Evans Matthew: A New Testament Jewish Gospel in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 242-245; Meier John P. Law and History in Matthews Gospel (1976); Overman Andrew J. Matthew's Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community (1990); Betz Hans Dieter The Sermon on the Mount in The Future of Early Christianity (ed. Birger A. Pearson; 1991) 258-75; Saldarini Anthony J. Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community (1994); Luomanen Petri Entering the Kingdom of Heaven (1998) 86-90; Blanton Thomas R. IV Saved by Obedience: Matthew 1:21 in Light of Jesus' Teaching on the Torah JBL, Vol. 132, No. 2 (2013) 393-413. 326 For the Qumran messiah, The Teacher of Righteousness, as a precursor of the Jesus story— Knohl Israel, The Messiah before Jesus: The Suffering Servant of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2000). For the impact of Psalms 2 on the Passion, see Crossan, Who Killed Jesus? 327 Raymond Brown, The Birth of the Messiah (1977), for the Jesus-Moses connection. 328 Recent: Young S. Chae Jesus as the Eschatological Davidic Shepherd Studies in the Old Testament, Second Temple Judaism, and in the Gospel of Matthew (2006); Joel Willitts Matthews Messianic Shepherd-King: In Search of 'the Lost Sheep of the House of Israel' (2007); 508 Reiser Marius Jesus and Judgment: The Eschatological Proclamation in Its Jewish Context (1997). 329 My elaboration of Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 196–197. 330 Pesher – see * 331 Ibid., 7–10. Implicit in Wilson, Related Strangers, 36–46. Amy-Jill Levine, The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Salvation History (2003), 71–89, argued for authorship by a Jewish follower of Jesus. 332 Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 7–10. 333 See Wilson, Related Strangers, 36–46. Similar conclusions in E. P. Sanders and Margaret Davis, Studying the Synoptic Gospels (1989), 194. 334 R. E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah (1994), 62. Recent: Runesson, Anders Rethinking Early Jewish—Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intragroup Conflict JBL 127, no. 1 (2008) 95-132. 335 Anthony J. Saldarini sees the Matthean text as a challenge to the Jewish establishment due to its refusal to embrace Jesus’s ministry, not as a challenge to Judaism as such (Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 44). ‘The level of animosity, unprecedented in Matthew, let alone the other Gospels, strongly suggests that the scribes and Pharisees stand for contemporaries with whom the author is in conflict.’ Wilson, Related Strangers, 50. 336 Saldarini comments on Matthew’s views on the Gentiles: ‘Matthew may be implying that they have the potential to be members of his group of believers in Jesus, but they are not yet members, nor does the narrative indicate that they will become so. Matthew may have in mind the phenomenon of the gentiles sympathetic to the synagogue who were not Jews, but who were nevertheless not totally other. Within the narrative, the gentile characters are secondary to members of Israel, and their story is partial and unfinished.’ Saldarini, Matthew’s ChristianJewish Community, 82. See Levine, Amy-Jill. The Social and Ethnic Dimensions of Matthean Social History. “Go Nowhere Among the Gentiles... ” (Matth 10.5b). Studies in the Bible and Early Christianity 14. Lewiston/Lampeter: Mellen (1988). 337 ‘The very fact that in Matt (14:33) all the disciples once confessed Jesus as God’s Son makes their flight from Gethsemane more reprehensible. Similarly, that in his personal confession Peter, the rock of faith, had hailed Jesus as ‘the Messiah, the Son of the living God’ (16:16–18) heightens the irony of his denying Jesus at the very moment the high priest is adjuring Jesus by ‘the living God’ to say if he is ‘the Messiah, the Son of God.’’ See Brown, The Death of the Messiah, 28–30. On the other hand, the Markan denigration of the Torah-observant faction is also somewhat mitigated by the high praise of Peter (Matt. 16:17–19) and by the correction of the slander that Jesus’s family thought he was insane. (See Mark 3:10.35 and 6:1.4 versus Matt. 13:53.58.) 338 Denigration of ancestors was a biblical staple (see pg. 57-9). See the denigration of Aaron by the Deuteronomist writer (most probably member of the contending Mushite priestly clan) and of the ancestors of most of the Judean enemies (Moab, Edom, etc.). Also N. A. Beck, Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1994), 57–59. See also Robert Goldenberg, The Nations That Know Thee Not: Ancient Jewish Attitudes toward Other Religions (1997). 339 Contra Bauckham Richard Opposition from the Jewish Authorities in Jerusalem in James and the Jerusalem Community in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 75-81 509 340 The increased inclination to exonerate the Romans is showcased in the heightened emphasis on the ‘Jewish culpability,’ and in the additions to the Markan story (Pilate’s wife [27:19] and the hand-washing scene of Pilate [27:24–25]). 341 Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community, 7–10; and Wilson, Related Strangers, 46–56, support continuity. J. P. Meier, The Vision of Matthew (1979), 229–235; R. A. Guelich, The Sermon on the Mount (1982), 134–174; L. Gaston, ‘The Messiah of Israel and the Teacher of the Gentiles,’ Int. 29 (1975), 24–40; and Davies and Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew 1988, 481–503, support discontinuity. 342 In harmony with Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels, 170–171. 343 Allison Dale C. Jr. and Davies W. D. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel according to Saint Matthew (1988-1997) 1:7-58; McKnight Scot A Loyal Critic: Matthew's Polemic with Judaism in Theological Perspective in Antisemitism and Early Christianity: Issues of Polemic and Faith (1993) 55-79; Saldarini Anthony J. Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community (1994); Evans Craig A. The Jewish Christian Gospel Tradition - The Literary Heritage of Jewish Believers [Part Three] in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 242-3 344 On the continued Torah observance of Jewish Christians, see Saldarini, Matthew’s ChristianJewish Community, 114–174. 345 Socio-Historical perspectives on Luke-Acts: Keener Craig Acts: An Exegetical Commentary (2012-15); Bovon François Luke the Theologian: Fifty-five Years of Research (1950-2005) (2006); Gasque Ward A History of the Interpretation of the Acts of the Apostles (1989); Arrington French The Acts of the Apostles: Introduction, Translation, and Commentary (1988);Maddox Robert The Purpose of Luke-Acts (1982) 346 A more complete engagement with the Knox-Tyson-Townsend view in segment ‘Marcion and Luke/Acts’ in pg. 173. 347 Recent: Edwards, James R. The Gospel according to Luke (PNTC) (2015); France, R. T. Luke (TTC) (2013); Carroll, John T. Luke: A Commentary (NTL) (2012). For a review of unconventional approaches to Luke interpretation, see Joel B. Green, ed., Methods for Luke Methods in Biblical Interpretation (2010). 348 See R. E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah (1994), 30–31; and Peter Tomson, Jesus and the New Testament Authors in their Relationship to Judaism (2001), 24,223. 349 D. Tiede, in J. B. Tyson, Luke-Acts and the Jewish People (1988), 21–34; Dunn, Jews and Christians: The Parting of the Ways, A. D. 70 to 135 (1989), 149–151; Israel R. Tannehill, The Narrative Unity of Luke-Acts (1990); Brown, The Death of the Messiah, 389–390; Tomson, Jesus and the New Testament Authors, 214. 350 J. T. Sanders, The Jews in Luke-Acts (1987), 39–42 and 296–299; Jacob Jervell, Luke and the People of God. A New look at Luke-Acts (1972), 62–64; J. B. Tyson, Images of Judaism in LukeActs (1992), 158–180; Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 57– 58. 351 See Tyson, Luke-Acts and the Jewish People, 130. 352 Ibid., 129. 353 Similar view in Samuel Sandmel, Antisemitism in The New Testament? (1978), 73. 354 The scribes and the Pharisees are the main Matthean enemies. Peter Tomson, Jews and the New Testament Authors (2001), 276. Michael J. Cook, Mark’s Treatment of the Jewish Leaders (1978), claims that the ‘scribes’ originate from Mark and that neither know who they truly are. Recent: Runesson, Anders Rethinking Early Jewish—Christian Relations: Matthean Community History as Pharisaic Intragroup Conflict JBL 127, no. 1 (2008) 95-132. 510 355 Stephen G. Wilson, ed., Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, Vol. 2 (1986), 48; and D. P. Efroymson, Tertullian’s Anti-Judaism and Its Role in Theology (1976), 112–146. 356 John Knox, Marcion and the New Testament (1942); and ‘Marcion and the Synoptic Problem,’ in Jesus, the Gospels and the Church, E. P. Sanders, ed. (1987), 25–31; Joseph Tyson, Marcion and Luke-Acts (2006). 357 John Knox, Marcion and the New Testament: An Essay in the Early History of the Canon (1942). 358 Standing on Tyson, Marcion and Luke-Acts, 78–79; and Knox, Marcion and the New Testament, 117–119). 359 Townsend, ‘The Date of Luke-Acts,’ in Luke-Acts: New Perspectives from the Society of Biblical Literature Seminar, Charles H. Talbert, ed. (1984), 47–62; Andrew Gregory, ‘The Reception of Luke and Acts in the Period before Irenaeus: Looking for Luke in the Second Century,’ WUNT 2:169 (2003); Tyson, Marcion and Luke-Acts, 11. 360 Acts as a Pauline apologia: For those who favor an apologia pro Paulo, see esp. Robert L. Brawley, ‘Paul in Acts: Lucan Apology and Conciliation,’ in Luke-Acts: New Perspectives from the Society of Biblical Literature Seminar (ed. Charles H. Talbert; New York: Crossroad, 1984), 129–47; Abraham J. Malherbe, ‘‘Not in a Corner’: Early Christian Apologetic in Acts 26:26,’ SecCent 5 (1986): 197–208; John T. Carroll, ‘Literary and Social Dimensions of Luke’s Apology for Paul,’ in SBL 1988 Seminar Papers (SBLSP 27; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988), 106–18; John Clayton Lentz Jr., Luke’s Portrait of Paul (SNTSMS 77; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993); James A. Kelhoffer, ‘The Gradual Disclosure of Paul’s Violence against Christians; Smith Dennis S. and Tyson Joseph B. eds. Acts and Christian Beginnings: The Acts Seminar Report (2013). On using Acts for the historical reconstruction of early Christianity, see the discussions in David E. Aune The New Testament in Its Literary Environment (1987) 77–157; the essays by Darryl W. Palmer, Loveday C. A. Alexander, and Brian S. Rosner in vol. 1 of The Book of Acts in Its First Century Setting ed. Bruce W. Winter (1993) 1–82; Witherington Ben ed. History, Literature, and Society in the Book of Acts (1996); Loveday Alexander Mapping Early Christianity: Acts and the Shape of Early Church History Int 57 (2003) 163–73; Rothschild Clare K. Luke–Acts and the Rhetoric of History (2004); Gregory Andre Acts and Christian Beginnings: A Review Essay Journal for the Study of the New Testament (September 2016) 39: 97-115. 361 Smith Dennis S. and Tyson Joseph B. eds. Acts and Christian Beginnings: The Acts Seminar Report (2013) 362 See pg. 173. 363 Mary C. Boys, Has God Only One Blessing? (2000), 85. 364 ‘Luke-Acts is one of the most pro-Jewish and one of the most anti-Jewish writings in the New Testament.’ L. Gaston in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, Peter Richardson and David Granskou, eds. (1986), vol. 1, 127–153; and Wilson, Related Strangers, 64–65. For discussions of this range: Wilson, Related Strangers, 56–71, esp. 57; and Brown, The Death of the Messiah, 389–390. Also Sandmel, Antisemitism in The New Testament? 73); and N. A. Beck, Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1994), 207. 365 Standing on Wilson, Related Strangers, 64–65. 366 On the origins of the genre, see A. Portier-Young, Apocalypse against Empire: Theologies of Resistance in Early Judaism (2011). 367 Acts 16:1–3; 21:18–28; 23:5; 24:14–15, 17–18; 25:8, 10; 26:4–8, 22. 511 368 Similar view in Patrick J. Hartin, James of Jerusalem: Heir to Jesus of Nazareth (2004), 135–140. On Luke’s literary creativity: Nielsen Jesper Tang and Müller Mogens eds. Luke’s Literary Creativity (2016) John 369 J. D. Crossan, Who Killed Jesus (1995), 20–25. 370 Joseph Stiassny, Development of the Christians’ Self-understanding in the Second Part of the First Century, Immanuel 1 (1972), 32–34; Rosemary R. R., Faith and Fratricide (1974), 16; Eldon J. Epp, Antisemitism and the Popularity of the Fourth Gospel in Christianity (1975), 35– 57; Barrett C. K. The Gospel of John and Judaism (1975), 71; Meeks W. ‘Am I a Jew? Johannine Christianity and Judaism,’ in Christianity, Judaism and Other Graeco-Roman Cults, J. Neusner, ed. (1975), 172; Reginald Fuller, ‘The Jews’ in th Fourth Gospel,’ Dialog 16 (1977), 31–37; S. Sandmel, Antisemitism in the New Testament? (1978), 119; J. Townsend, ‘The Gospel of John and the Jews,’ in Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity, A. Davies, ed. (1979), 60, 72–97; John Koenig, Jews and Christians in Dialogue: New Testament Foundations (1979), 131, 137; J. E. Leibig, ‘John and The Jews: Theological Antisemitism in the Fourth Gospel,’ JES (1983), 224; Clark M. Williamson and R. J. Allen, Interpreting Difficult Texts (1989), 48–55; N. A. Beck, Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the AntiJewish Polemic of the New Testament (1994); Reinhartz Adele Befriending the Beloved Disciple: A Jewish Reading of the Gospel of John (2001) 51–53 Levieils X. Juifs et Grecs dans la communauté johannique Biblica 82.1 (2001): 51-78; Peter Tomson, Jews and the New Testament Authors (2001), 401–404; 199–241; Henk Jan De Jonge The ‘Jews’ in the Gospel of John in: R. Bieringer, Didier Pollefeyt & F. VandecasteeleVanneuville (eds). Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel (2001) 240-259; Reimund Bieringer, Didier Pollefeyt, and Frederique Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, eds., Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel (2001), 42, 109; Lars Kierspel, The Jews and the World in the Fourth Gospel (2006); R. Alan Culpepper, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 81. 371 J. L. Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel (1979). 372 The Descendants of Jesus’s disciples and followers considered Jesus an exalted human, not a divine being. 373 On this originating sequence: Cohen Shaye The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (1999); Freyne Sean Behind the Names: Samaritans, Ioudaioi, Galileans in Text and Artifact in the Religions of Mediterranean Antiquity (2000); Esler Philip Conflict and Identity in Romans: The Social Setting of Paul’s Letter (2003) 19–76; Schwartz Daniel R. ‘Judaean’ or ‘Jew’? How Should We Translate IOUDAIOS in Josephus?’ in Jewish Identity in the Greco-Roman World (2007) 3-27; Mason Steve Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History Journal for the Study of Judaism 38 (2007) 457–512; Harvey Graham The True Israel: Uses of the names Jew, Hebrew and Israel in Ancient Jewish and Early Christian Literature (2001); Runesson Anders Inventing Christian Identity: Paul, Ignatius, and Theodosius I. (2008) 59-92 in Exploring Early Christian Identity Holmberg Bengt ed. (2008) 374 See Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 147–163. 375 Gill Christopher, ed., The Discourses of Epictetus (1995). 376 S. J. D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties, c1999 70–73. Similar views in D. Rensberger, in Anti Judaism and the Gospels, William R. Farmer, ed. (1999), 123. 512 377 De Jounge, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and VandecasteeleVanneuville, 121 and Chapter 6, standing on B. W. J. de Ruyter. 378 James R. Mueller, in Antisemitism and Early Christianity, Evans Ed and Hagner, eds. (1993), 257, who points to W. Bauer (Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, ed. R. Kraft and G. Krodel [1971], H. Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, vol. 2: History and Literature of Early Christianity [1982], and Hennecke-Schneemelcher-Wilson, New Testament Apocrypha, 1.134–78), the earliest to identify this phenomenon. 379 U. C. von Wahlde, ‘The Johannine ‘Jews’: A Critical Survey,’ NTS 28 (1982), 33–60. 380 Tomson, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 198. 381 Among them: James H. Charlesworth, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 257–259, advocates ‘some Judean leaders’ for 5:1, 16; 7:1; 9:22; 11:54; 18:36; 19:38; 20:19. Others on the multivalency of the term: von Wahlde, ‘The Johannine ‘Jews,’’ 33–60; M. Lowe, ‘Who Were the ‘Ioudaioi,’’ NovTIS (1976), 101–130, 106–107); J. Ashton, ‘The Identity and Function of the ‘Ioudaioi’ in the Fourth Gospel,’ NovT27 (1983), 40–75, 55–57; R. A. Culpepper, ‘The Gospel of John as a Threat to Jewish-Christian Relations,’ in Overcoming Fear between Jews and Christians-Shared Ground among Jews and Christians 3, J. H. Charlesworth with F. X. Blisard and J. L. Gorham, eds. (1993), 21–43, 27; J. C. O’Neill, ‘‘The Jews’ in the Fourth Gospel,’ IBS 18 (1996), 58–74, for an overview of the subject. U. C. von Wahlde, The Jews’ in the Gospel of John: Fifteen Years of Research (2000), 30–55; Charlesworth, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 254–255; Hirschberg Reter Jewish Believers in Asia Minor according to the Gospel of John in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 230-237. 382 Culpepper, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and VandecasteeleVanneuville, 66. 383 Besides Brown and Martyn, I would point the following influential works that touch on the socio-historical context of Carroll K. L. John, ‘The Fourth Gospel and the Exclusion of Christians from the Synagogue,’ BJRL 40 (1957); W. A. Meek, ‘The Man from Heaven in Johannine Sectarianism,’ JBL 91 (1972); and B. J. Malina, ‘The Gospel of John in Sociolinguistic Perspective,’ Center for Hermeneutical Studies in Hellenistic and Modern Culture, Colloquy 48; R. A. Culpepper and C. Clifton Black, Exploring the Gospel of John (1996); and Paul N. Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel: An Introduction to John (2011). 384 Reinhartz Adele Befriending the Beloved Disciple: A Jewish Reading of the Gospel of John (2001) 51–53. 385 Peter Tomson, Jesus and the New Testament Authors in their Relationship to Judaism (2001), 401–404; Hill Charles E. John and ‘the Gnostics in The Johannine Corpus in the Early Church. (2004) 205-293. 386 J. L. Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel (1968), 90–121; J. T. Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants (1993), 44–48; Raymond E. Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple (1979), 292–316; Tomson, Jesus and the New Testament Authors, 401–404; Tomson, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 198– 199. For a theological, historical, and literary analysis of John’s riddles, see Anderson, The Riddles of the Fourth Gospel. Recent: Meye Thompson, Marianne. John: A Commentary (2015); Kanagaraj, Jay J. John (NCCS) (2012); Michaels, J. Ramsey. The Gospel of John (NICNT, rev.) (2010). 513 387 Culpepper Alan R. and Anderson Paul N. eds. Communities in Dispute: Current Scholarship on the Johannine Epistles (2014); Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah (1994), 83–85. A three-stage transition is also supported by others including J. T. Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants (1993), 44–48; and Tomson, Jesus and the New Testament Authors, 401–404. 388 Seven groups of protagonists have been identified by Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple, 59–91: the world, the Jews, the adherents of John the Baptist, Crypto-Christians, the Jewish Christian Churches of inadequate faith, the apostolic churches, and the Johannines. See Hirschberg Reter Jewish Believers in Asia Minor according to the Gospel of John in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 230237. 389 Carroll K. L. John, ‘The Fourth Gospel and the Exclusion of Christians from the Synagogue,’ BJRL 40 (1957) 390 Follows my summary of R. E. Brown, The Gospel according to John (1966) The Community of the Beloved Disciple, 22–25. 391 Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple, 13; Hirschberg Reter Jewish Believers in Asia Minor according to the Gospel of John in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 230-237. 392 Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple, 23 393 Docetism: Jesus was only divine; his physical appearance was an illusion. See James D. G. Dunn, Unity and Diversity in the New Testament (1990), 296–305. 394 More on the Jewish followers of Jesus and John: U. C. von Wahlde, The Jews’ in the Gospel of John: Fifteen Years of Research (2000), 30–55; Hirschberg Reter Jewish Believers in Asia Minor according to the Gospel of John in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 230-237. 395 Similar argument in Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants 44–48; and H. J. De Jonge, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 121–122, 139–140. 396 Tomson, Jesus and the New Testament Authors, 329, 401–404); similar transitions in Brown, The Death of the Messiah, 83–85; and Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants, 44–48. 397 R. T. Fortna, The Gospel of Signs (1970), 32 note 6. See the next segment for more on the evolution of the text. 398 A. Reinhartz, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 220. 399 See Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel. 400 Urban C. von Wahlde, The Earliest Version of John’s Gospel: Recovering the Gospel of Signs (1989), 34–43, 162–164; Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants. 401 Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel. 402 The intra-Gentile debate surfaced a bit later and is a main subject of the Johannine Epistles. Docetic: Jesus was only divine; his human presence was an illusion. 403 David Rensberger, in What Is John? Readers and Readings of the Fourth Gospel, F. F. Segovia, ed. (1996), 146. 404 See chapter 10 on supersession theology. 405 A. J. Mattill, ‘Johannine Communities behind the ‘Fourth Gospel: Georg Richter’s Analysis,’’ TS 38 (1977), 294–315. 514 406 Recently, Culpepper R.A. and Anderson Paul N. eds. Communities in Dispute: Current Scholarship on the Johannine Epistles, ed. SBL (2014) 407 Standing on Beck, Mature Christianity, 310. 408 Same argument in Rensberger, in What Is John? Segovia, 141–142. 409 Support for this assessment in H. Koester and J. M. Robinson, Trajectories through Early Christianity (1971), 115; W. D. Davies, ‘Paul and the People of Israel,’ NTS 24 (1977), 4–39; G. Strecker, ‘On the Problem of Jewish Christianity,’ appendix to Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, 241–245. 410 Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple, 82–83. 411 Amy-Jill Levine The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus (2006). 412 My summary of Beck, Mature Christianity, 311. 413 Standing on Beck, Mature Christianity, 297. 414 Rensberger’s sources: D. Rensberger, Johannine Faith and Liberating Community (1988), 27–28; Meeks, ‘The Man from Heaven in Johannine Sectarianism,’ 44–72; B. J. Malina, The Gospel of John in Sodolinguistic Perspective (1985); J. Neusner, ed., Christianity, Judaism, and Other Graeco-Roman Cults (1975), 2:1–23; J. H. Elliot, A Home for the Homeless: A Sociological Exegesis of 1 Peter (1981), 73–78. Strands of early Christianity as sectarians: R. Scroggs, The Earliest Christian Communities as Sectarian Movement. Studies for Morton Smith at Sixty, 4 vols., SJLA 12. 415 Rensberger, in What Is John? Segovia, 139–142; and Rensberger, in Anti Judaism and the Gospels, Farmer, 150, 152, 154, concludes that John reflects a dissident and marginalized community confronting an orthodoxy or a majority view. 416 Rensberger, in What Is John? Segovia, 139–142. 417 See H. J. De Jonge, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 121–140. 418 Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel; Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple; R. Kysar, ‘The Gospel of John in Current Research,’ RSR9 (1983), 316; W. A. Meeks, in ‘To See Ourselves as Others See Us’: Christians, Jews, ‘Others’ in Late Antiquity, J. Neusner and E. S. Frerichs, eds. (1985), 94; G. M. Smiga, Pain and Polemic: Anti-Judaism in the Gospels (1992), 137; Beck, Mature Christianity, 288; David Rensberger and Adele Reinhartz, in What Is John? Segovia. Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants, 44–48. 419 Cassidy Richard J. John’s Gospel in New Perspective: Christology and the Realities of Roman Power (1992); Carter Warren John: Storyteller, Interpreter, Evangelist (2006); Reed David Rethinking John’s Social Setting: Hidden Transcript, Anti-language, and the Negotiations of the Empire (2006) 101; Carter Warren John and Empire: Initial Explorations (2008); Thatcher Tom Greater than Caesar: Christology and Empire in the Fourth Gospel (2009). Skinner Christopher W. John’s Gospel and the Roman Imperial Context: An Evaluation of Recent Proposals in Jesus Is Lord, Caesar Is Not: Evaluating Empire in New Testament Studies, ed. McKnight Scot and Modica Joseph B. (2013) 116–29 420 For a survey of these issues, see Bieringer and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, 63. 421 Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, 29. 422 Culpepper, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and VandecasteeleVanneuville, 67. 423 Gerd Luedemannn, The Unholy in Holy Scripture (1997), 110–120. 515 Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 2d ed.; and R. Kysar, ‘The Gospel of John in Current Research,’ RSR9 (1983), 316. 425 Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 2d ed., 50–62. Since, Martyn has modified his views in harmony with the emerging consensus. 426 Langer Ruth Cursing the Christians? A History of the Birkat Haminim (2012) 16–39; Kinzig Wolfram The Condemnation of the Nosrim in the Birkat Haminim in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 482-488; Horbury William Jews and Christians in Contact and Controversy (1998) 67-110, 240-43; Daniel Boyarin Justin Martyr Invents Judaism CH 70 (2001) 427–61; Horbury William Early Christians on Synagogue Prayer and Imprecation in Tolerance and Intolerance in Early Judaism and Christianity ed. G. N. Stanton and G. G. Stroumsa (1998) 296-317; van der Horst, Hellenism; Mimouni Simon C. Les Nazoreens: Recherche etymologique et historique.’ Revue biblique 105 (1998) 161-88, 212-15; A. Reinhartz The Johannine Community: A Reappraisal in ‘What Is John?’ edited by Fernando F. Segovia (1996 –1998); Mimouni Simon C. La 'Birkat hamininVm: Une priere juive contre les judeochretiens RSR 71 (1997) 275-98; van der Horst Pieter W. The Birkat ha-minim in Recent Research ExpTim 105 (1993-1994) 363-68; van der Horst Hellenism—Judaism—Christianity: Essays on Their Interaction (1994) 99-111; Joubert S. J. A Bone of Contention in Recent Scholarship: The 'Birkat HaMinim' and the Separation of Church and Synagogue in the First Century AD. Neotestamentica 27 (1993) 351-62; Mimouni Simon C. Pour une definition nouvelle du judeo-christianisme ancient New Testament Studies 38 (1992) 161-86; Thornton Timothy C. G. Christian Understanding of the Birkath Ha-Minim in the Eastern Roman Empire JTS NS 38 (1987) 419-31; Schiffman Lawrence Η. Who Was a Jew? Rabbinic and Halakhic Perspectives on the Jewish Christian Schism (1985) 56-61; Katz S. T. Issues in the Separation of Judaism and Christianity after 70 C. E.: A Reconsideration JBL 103 (1984), 43–76, 74; Horbury William The Benediction of the Minim and Early JewishChristian Controversy JTS NS 33 (1982) 19-61; Schalom Ben-Chorin, Betendes Judentum: Kimelman, Reuven Birkat Ha-Minim and the Lack of Evidence for an AntiChristian Jewish Prayer in Late Antiquity in Aspects of Judaism in the Graeco-Roman Period. Edited by E. P. Sanders, A. I. Baumgarten, and A. Mendelson. Vol. 2 of Jewish and Christian Self-Definition (1981) 226-44, 391-403; J. Townsend, ‘The Gospel of John—Jews: The Story of a Religious Divorce,’ in Antisemitism and the Foundations Christianity, A. Davies, ed. (1979), 72–97 424 A. Reinhartz The Johannine Community: A Reappraisal in ‘What Is John?’ edited by Fernando F. Segovia (1996 –1998) 428 J. Townsend, ‘The Gospel of John—Jews: The Story of a Religious Divorce,’ in Antisemitism and the Foundations Christianity, A. Davies, ed. (1979), 72–97 87; C. K. Barnett, The Gospel According to St. John, 2nd ed. (1978), 361; John Painter, John 9, John, Witness and Theologian (1975), 38; R. Culpepper, Exploring the Gospel of John (1996), 280–282. 429 Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple, 41–42. 430 Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, eds. Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, 200, 32–33. 431 Culpepper, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and VandecasteeleVanneuville, 82. 432 Similar views in Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple, 41. 433 Standing on De Jounge, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Frederique Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 134 and Chapter 6. 427 516 These differing Gentile believers in Jesus may be De Jonge’s ‘Christian contemporaries who did not accept all, or perhaps only a portion, of John’s Christology.’ De Jonge, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 134. See also Hirschberg Reter Jewish Believers in Asia Minor according to the Gospel of John in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 230-237 435 Tomson, Jesus and the New Testament Authors, 407. 436 Townsend, ‘The Gospel of John,’ in Antisemitism and the Foundations Christianity, Davies, 72–97, 87. Similar views in Tomson, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 198–199; and Beck, Mature Christianity, 296. 437 G. Vermes, The Changing Faces of Jesus (2000), 11. 438 See Kierspel, The Jews and the World in the Fourth Gospel; E. J. Epp, ‘Antisemitism and the Popularity of the Fourth Gospel in Christianity,’ CCARJ /22 (1975), 35–57; Culpepper, in AntiJudaism and the Fourth Gospel Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 81; Barrett, The Gospel of John and Judaism, 71; Meeks, ‘Am I a Jew?’ Neusner, 172; Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel 4. 439 Standing on Beck, Mature Christianity, 306–307. 440 Charlesworth, in Anti-Judaism and the Fourth Gospel, Bieringer, Pollefeyt, and Vandecasteele-Vanneuville, 248; and Luedemannn, The Unholy in Holy Scripture, 94–95, 110. 434 Revelation 441 Consonant views in Peter J. Tomson, If This Be from Heaven: Jesus and the New Testament Authors in Their Relationship to Judaism (2001), 362, 365, 366. Recent: Aune David E. The Apocalypse of John and Palestinian Jewish Apocalyptic Neotestamentica 40.1 (2006) 1-33; Hirschberg Reter Jewish Believers in Asia Minor according to the Book of Revelation in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 237241; Gorman, Michael J. Reading Revelation Responsibly (2011) O Koester, Craig R. Revelation (AB, rev.) (2014); Duvall, J. Scott. Revelation (TTC) (2014) 442 On Revelation and the Roman Empire: Moore Stephen D. What Is, What Was, and What May Yet Be in Untold tales from the Book of Revelation : sex and gender, empire and ecology Moore Stephen D. ed. SBL 79 (2014); DeSilva David A., The Strategic Arousal of Emotion in John’s Visions of Roman Imperialism: A Rhetorical-Critical Investigation of Revelation 4-22 Neotestamentica 42.1 (2008) 1-34; Biguzzi Giancarlo Is the Babylon of Revelation Rome or Jerusalem? Biblica 87.3 (2006) 372-386; Carey Greg Revelation and Empire: Symptoms of Resistance in Barr David L. The Reality of Apocalypse: Rhetoric and Politics in the Book of Revelation (2006); De Jonge Henk Jan The Function of Religious Polemics: The Case of the Revelation of John Versus the Imperial Cult in Hettema T. L.& van der Kooij A. eds. Religious Polemics in Context (2005) 276-290; van Henten J. W. Dragon myth and imperial ideology in Revelation 12-13. in Barr David L. ed. The reality of apocalypse: rhetoric and politics in the Book of Revelation. (2006) 181-203; Gordon Zerbe Revelation’s Exposé of Two Cities: Babylon and New Jerusalem Direction 32.1 (2003) 46-70; Aune David E. Revelation 1 7-22 (1998), Elisabeth Schlussler Fiorenza The Book of Revelation: Justice and Judgment [2nd ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress, (1998); Rossing Barbara R. The Choice between Two Cities: Whore, Bride, and Empire in the Apocalypse (1999) 77-82. 443 The earliest were B. M. Newman Jr., Rediscovering the Book of Revelation (1968), 30; and J. M. Robinson and H. Koester, Trajectories through Early Christianity (1971), 114–157. See 517 more updated views in John Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism (1985), 131; Lloyd Gaston, Studies in Christianity and Judaism, S. G. Wilson, ed. (1986), 42–43; Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 163; Murray Michele, Playing a Jewish Game (2004), 78. 444 For the view that the adversaries are mainstream Jews, see D. M. Smith, ‘Judaism and the Gospel of John,’ in Jews and Christians: Exploring the Past, Present, and Future, J. H. Charlesworth, ed. (1990), 88–89; and Yarbro A. Collins, Crisis and Catharsis: The Power of the Apocalypse (1984), 85–87. 445 See Duff Paul The ‘Synagogue of Satan’: Crisis Mongering and the Apocalypse of John in Barr David L. The Reality of Apocalypse: Rhetoric and Politics in the Book of Revelation (2006) 446 Standing on Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 147, 162–3 447 Gal. 2:14, 3; 5:2–12; 6:12, 15; and Magn. 8:1–2; 9:1; 10:3, and Phld. 6:1. Segment stands on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 78–79. 448 See Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism, 131; Gaston, Studies in Christianity and Judaism, 42–43; Wilson, Related Strangers, 163; Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 78. 449 Indebted to Wilson, Related Strangers, 147–163; Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 78. 450 Justin refers to others as being more active in persecution of Gentile believers in Jesus than the Jews (Dial. 122). Wilson, Related Strangers, 163. 451 For differing views, see Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism, 131; Gaston, Studies in Christianity and Judaism, 42–43; Wilson, Related Strangers, 163; Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 78. 452 On Revelation and the Jewish Followers of Jesus: Hirschberg Reter Jewish Believers in Asia Minor according to the Book of Revelation in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 230-237. 453 Moore Stephen D. What Is, What Was, and What May Yet Be in Untold tales from the Book of Revelation: sex and gender, empire and ecology Moore Stephen D. ed. SBL 79 (2014) 6. 454 The beast (Nero), the seven hills that surround Rome, and 666 or 676 (the numerological equivalents of the two ways Nero’s name is written in Hebrew). Summary 455 About Gentile Judaizers (Gentile sympathizers with the Jewish followers of Jesus), see Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism, 131; Gaston, Studies in Christianity and Judaism, 42–43; Wilson, Related Strangers, 163; and Murray Playing a Jewish Game, 78–79—although most of these analyses cast the context as inter-religious. 456 For recent survey of typological examples see Evans Craig A. and H. Daniel Zacharias, eds., ’What Does the Scripture Say?’: Studies in the Function of Scripture in Early Judaism and Christianity (2013) 457 Examples from Bauckham Richard James and Jesus in Chilton Bruce and Neusner Jacob eds. (2001) 134 06- chapter 06 - Supersession 458 On the supersessionary message of Hebrews see bibliography and: Attridge, H.W. The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (1989) 228; Ellingworth, P. The Epistle to the Hebrews NIGTC (1993) 413, 417; Johnson Luke T. The New Testament's Anti-Jewish Slander and the Conventions of Ancient Polemic JBL Vol. 108, No. 3 (1989), 423– 424; Lindars Barnabas The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews (1991) 11; Salevao Iutisone 518 Legitimation in the Letter to the Hebrews: The Construction and Maintenance of a Symbolic Universe JSNTSup 219 (2002)192–195; See also Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 179; Hagner, Hebrews, 124; Homer A. Kent The New Covenant and the Church GTJ 6 (1985) 295; Walters J. R. The Rhetorical Arrangement of Hebrews As 7/51 (1996) 59–70; Lane William L. Hebrews 1–8, WBC 47a (1991) 210; David A. deSilva, Perseverance in Gratitude: A SocioRhetorical Commentary on the Epistle ‘to the Hebrews’ (2000) 287. Kim L. Polemic in the Book of Hebrews: Anti-Judaism, Antisemitism, Supersessionism? (2006) 459 For Pauline authorship of Hebrews: Allen David L. Lukan Authorship of Hebrews (2010); Rothschild Clare K. Hebrews as Pseudepigraphon (2009) Hebrews 460 Wilson, Related Strangers, 110; Barnabas Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews (1991), 1. 461 Recent scholarship on Hebrews’ theology: Moore Nicholas J. Christ as ‘The One Who Entered His Rest’: The Christological Reading of Hebrews 4.10 Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36.4 (2014); Dyer B.R. The epistle to The Hebrews in recent research: studies on the author's identity, his use of The Old Testament, and Theology (2013) 104-31; Richardson, C.A. Pioneer and Perfecter of Faith: Jesus’ Faith as the Climax of Israel’s History in the Epistle to the Hebrews (2012); Matera Frank The Theology of the Epistle to the Hebrews in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 189-209; McCruden Kevin B. The Concept of Perfection in the Epistle to the Hebrews in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 209-231; Greer Rowan The Jesus of Hebrews and the Christ of Chalcedon in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 231-251; Moffitt, D.M. Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011); Whitlark Jason A. Enabling Fidelity to God: Perseverance in Hebrews in Light of the Reciprocity Systems of the Ancient Mediterranean World (2010); Bauckham Richard The divinity of Jesus Christ in the Epistle to the Hebrews in Bauckham, R., D. R. Driver, T. A. Hart, and N. MacDonald, eds. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (2009); Webster John One who is Son: theological reflections on the exordium to the Epistle to the Hebrews in Bauckham, R., D. R. Driver, T. A. Hart, and N. MacDonald, eds. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (2009); Holmes Stephen R. Death in the afternoon: Hebrews, sacrifice, and soteriology in Bauckham, R., D. R. Driver, T. A. Hart, and N. MacDonald, eds. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (2009); McCruden, K.B. Solidarity Perfected: Beneficent Christology in the Epistle to the Hebrews (2008); Gelardini, G. Hebrews, An Ancient Synagogue Homily for Tisha be-Av: its Function, its Basis, its Theological Interpretation In Gelardini, Hebrews: Contemporary Methods, (2005) 107-127; Isaacs, M. E. Sacred Space: An Approach to the Theology of the Epistle to the Hebrews. JSNTSup 73 (1992) 462 Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995). Recently, Koester Craig R. Hebrews, Rhetoric, and the Future of Humanity in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 99-121 supports the view that the community is facing difficulties and may be in decline. 463 Hebrews’ scholarship (not an exhaustive list – see all citations in this chapter): B. P. W. S Hunt, ‘The Epistle to the Hebrews or against the Hebrews?’ SE 2 (1964), 408; Samuel Sandmel, Antisemitism in the New Testament? (1978), 121; Attridge, Harold W. The Epistle to the Hebrews (1989); N. A. Beck, Mature Christianity in the 21st Century: The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament, 2d ed. (1994); Barnabas Lindars, 519 ‘The Rhetorical Structure of Hebrews,’ NTS 35 (1989), 392 n. 2; Robert W. Wall and William Lane, in Antisemitism and Early Christianity, Craig Evans and Donald Hagner, eds. (2002), 199, 173; William Lane, Hebrews 1–8, WBC 47a (1991); Marie E. Isaacs, ‘Hebrews,’ in Early Christian Thought in Its Jewish Context, J. Barclay and J. Sweet, eds. (1996), 158; Harold W. Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews (1989), 9; Donald Hagner, Encountering the Book of Hebrews (2002), 35–36; Luke Timothy Johnson, ‘The New Testament’s Anti-Jewish Slander and the Conventions of Ancient Polemic,’ JBL 108 (1989), 423–424; David A. deSilva, Perseverance in Gratitude: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on the Epistle ‘to the Hebrews ‘ (2000), 263; Craig R. Koester, Hebrews (2001), 54; Clark M. Williamson, ‘Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?’ Int 57 (2003), 266–279. Recent: deSilva, D. A. Perseverance in Gratitude: A SocioRhetorical Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (2000); Allen, David L. Hebrews (2010); Cockerill, Gareth L. The Epistle to the Hebrews (2012) 464 Schenck Kenneth Hebrews as the Re-presentation of a Story: A Narrative Approach to Hebrews in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 171-189; deSilva D.A. Perseverance in Gratitude: A Socio-rhetorical Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (2000); David A. deSilva Heb 6:4–8: A Socio-Rhetorical Investigation TynBul 50 (1999) 33–57, 225–236; R. Alan Culpepper, Mapping the Textures of the New Testament Criticism: A Response to Socio-Rhetorical Criticism JSNT 70 (1998), 73; Trotter Andrew H. Interpreting the Epistle to the Hebrews (1997) 163–84 Stanley S. The Structure of Hebrews from Three Perspectives TynBul 45: 245– 71 (1994) 465 Victor Turner, The Forest of Symbols (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1967). 466 Simon Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers (1986), 24–25. 467 On the supersessionary message of Hebrews: Attridge, H.W. The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (1989) 228; Ellingworth, P. The Epistle to the Hebrews NIGTC (1993) 413, 417; Johnson Luke T. The New Testament's Anti-Jewish Slander and the Conventions of Ancient Polemic JBL Vol. 108, No. 3 (1989), 423–424; Lindars Barnabas The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews (1991) 11; Salevao Iutisone Legitimation in the Letter to the Hebrews: The Construction and Maintenance of a Symbolic Universe JSNTSup 219 (2002)192–195; See also Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 179; Hagner, Hebrews, 124; Homer A. Kent The New Covenant and the Church GTJ 6 (1985) 295; Walters J. R. The Rhetorical Arrangement of Hebrews As 7/51 (1996) 59–70; Lane William L. Hebrews 1–8, WBC 47a (1991) 210; David A. deSilva, Perseverance in Gratitude: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on the Epistle ‘to the Hebrews’ (2000) 287. Kim L. Polemic in the Book of Hebrews: Anti-Judaism, Antisemitism, Supersessionism? (2006) 468 Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 115-139; For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415 469 L. Salevao, Legitimation in the Letter to the Hebrews: The Construction and Maintenance of a Symbolic Universe (2002), 340. 470 F. F. Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews (1964), xliii; Harold W. Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews (1989); Lane, Hebrews 1–8, WBC 47a, Ixvi; Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 21; Paul Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews (1993), 33; Craig R. Koester, Hebrews (2001), 54. 471 Wilson, Related Strangers, 117; and S. Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews (1990), 103– 104, 115, acknowledge them as part of the influences on the addressees. 472 Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 94. 473 Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 120–121. 520 474 Kim L. Polemic in the Book of Hebrews: Anti-Judaism, Antisemitism, Supersessionism? (2006) 475 Similar view in Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 15. 476 This is the majority view among scholars. See Philip E. Hughes, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (1977), 260; Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 10–13; Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews, rev ed. (1990), 155; James D. G. Dunn, The Partings of the Ways Between Christianity and Judaism (1990); Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 10–11; Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 80; Wilson, Related Strangers, 127; Koester, Hebrews, 7. 477 Similar views in Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 94. 478 Recent contribution of essays is to be found in Cameron Ron and Miller Merrill P., eds. Redescribing Paul and the Corinthians (2011) 479 Most scholars argue that the community in Hebrews had separated itself from establishment Judaism. See Johnson, ‘The New Testament’s Anti-Jewish Slander,’ 423–424; Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 11; Pamela M. Eisenbaum, ‘The Jewish Heroes of Christian History: Hebrews 11 in Literary Context,’ SBLDS 156 (1997), 10; and Salevao, Legitimation in the Letter to the Hebrews, 192–195. For a differing view, see Lane, Hebrews 1– 8, WBC 47a, cxxvii. 480 See Hagner, Hebrews, 9. 481 See discussion on the ‘revised Paul’ 482 Standing on Wilson, Related Strangers, 17–118. 483 On Hebrews and priesthood: Nairne, A. The Epistle of Priesthood: Studies in the Epistle to the Hebrews (1913); Sabourin, L. Priesthood: A Comparative Study (1973); Anderson, D.R. The King-Priest of Psalm 110 in Hebrews. Studies in Biblical Literature (2001); Jordaan, G.J.C. and P. Nel From Priest-King to King-Priest: Psalm 110 and the Basic Structure of Hebrews in: D.J. Human and G.J. Steyn (eds), Psalms and Hebrews: Studies in Reception (2010): 229–40; Neyrey, Jerome H. S.J Jesus the Broker in Hebrews: Insights from the Social Sciences in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 145-171; Calaway, J.C. The Sabbath and the Sanctuary: Access to God in the Letter to the Hebrews and its Priestly Context (2013) 484 Exodus 28:1; Leviticus 21:10. 485 Exodus 28:1; Leviticus 1:5–7, 8:1–3; 21:1; Numbers 1:47–51; 3:5–9. 486 On the Greco-Roman context of Hebrews: Thompson James W. What Has Middle Platonism to Do with Hebrews? in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 31-35; Gray Patrick Hebrews among Greeks and Romans in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 13-31. 487 Malachi (1:6–2:9); Testament of Levi (T. Levi 14:5–8, 15:1–2; 16:1; 17:1, 18:1–3); 1 and 2 Maccabees (1 Mace. 2:23–27; 2 Mace. 4:24–25); Psalms of Salomon (Pss. Sol. 1:8, 2:3–4); Dead Sea Scrolls (CD 2.12–20, CD 4.18–19, and 5.6–8); IQpHab 8.8–13, IQpHab 9.4–5, 1QS 4.25. 488 On Melchizedek see Horton F.L. The Melchizedek Tradition. A Critical Examination of the Sources to the Fifth Century A.D. and in the Epistle to the Hebrews (1976); Cockerill G.L. Melchizedek or ‘King of Righteousness’?’ EvQ63 (1991) 305-312; Aschim A. Melchizedek the Liberator: An Early Interpretation of Genesis 14? SBL 35 (1996) 243-258; Pearson B.A. Melchizedek in Early Judaism, Christianity, and Gnosticism in Stone M.E. and Bergen T.A, eds. Biblical Figures outside the Bible M.E. (1998); Attridge, H.W. The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (1989 )176-202. 192-195; McNamara M., 521 Melchizedek: Gen 14,17-20 in the Targums, in Rabbinic and Early Christian Literature Bib 81 (2000) 1-31; Nel From Priest-King to King-Priest: Psalm 110 and the Basic Structure of Hebrews in: D.J. Human and G.J. Steyn (eds), Psalms and Hebrews: Studies in Reception (2010): 229–40, Mason Eric F. Cosmology, Messianism, and Melchizedek: Apocalyptic Jewish Traditions and Hebrews in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 53-77 489 See detailed analysis in Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 192–195. 490 G. Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls in English (1975), 265–268. 491 Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 75. 492 Some Melchizedek speculation appears in the Qumran texts and in 2 Enoch and may have originated there. There is an equally enigmatic resurfacing of Melchizedek in Psalm 110:4. 493 Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 192–195. 494 Wilson, Related Strangers, 119. 495 Wilson, Related Strangers, 119. 496 Segment indebted to Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 75. 497 Ibid., 137. 498 Recently, Le Donne Anthony, The Historiographical Jesus: Memory, Typology, and the Son of David (2009). 499 On the eschatological context of Hebrews: Barrett C.K. The Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews in The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology, eds. W.D. Davies & D. Daube (1953) 363–93; Hurst L.D. Eschatology and ‘Platonism’ in the Epistle to the Hebrews SBL Seminar Papers 23 (1984) 41–74; Silva M. Perfection and Eschatology in Hebrews WTJ 39 (1976) 60–71; Robinson W.C. Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews: A study in the Christian Doctrine of Hope Encounter 22 (1961) 37–51; Carlston CE Eschatology and Repentance in the Epistle to the Hebrews JBL 78 (1959); Toussaint S.D. The eschatology of the warning passages in the Book of Hebrews GTJ 3 (1982) 67-80; Sharp J.R. Philonism and the Eschatology of Hebrews: Another Look EAJT 2 (1984) 289–298; MacRae G.W. Heavenly Temple and Eschatology in the Letter to the Hebrews Semeia 12 (1978) 179–99; Oberholtzer T.K. The warning passages in Hebrews: The eschatological salvation of Hebrews 1:5- 2:5 BSac 145 (1988) 83-97; Anderson, C. P. Who are the Heirs of the New Age in the Epistle to the Hebrew in Apocalyptic and the New Testamen edited by J. Marcus and M. L. Soards (1989) 55257; Mackie, S. D. Eschatology and Exhortation in the Epistle to the Hebrews (2007); Mason Eric F. Cosmology, Messianism, and Melchizedek: Apocalyptic Jewish Traditions and Hebrews in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 53-77. 500 For scholarship on covenant theology see: Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, John Fischer, ‘Covenant Fulfillment and Judaism in Hebrews,’ ERT 13 (1989), 1–6; Robert W. Wall and William Lane, in Antisemitism and Early Christianity, eds. Craig Evans and Donald Hagner (1993), 180–181; Steven McKenzie, Covenant (2000), 118–121; Hays Richard Here We Have No Lasting City’: New Covenantalism in Hebrews in The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology, ed. Richard Bauckham, et al. (2009) 151-73; Nanos, M. D. New or Renewed Covenantalism? A Response to Richard Hays in Bauckham et al., The Epistle to the Hebrews (2009) 183-188; Williamson, ‘Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?’ 266–279; Hagner, ‘A Positive Theology of Judaism from the New Testament,’ 14–18. 501 See Lane, Hebrews 1–8, WBC 47a, 258; and Koester, Hebrews, 436. 502 Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 22. 503 Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 94; and C. Spicq, L’Epitre aux Hebreux (1952) 13. 522 504 That is, Psalm 110:4; Jeremiah 31:31–35. Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 36. 506 Hebrews uses the Septuagint version of Jeremiah 31:31–34. 507 Standing on Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 227. 508 Standing on Koester, Hebrews, 385. 509 Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 130–131; and W. D. Davies, ‘Torah in the Messianic Age and/or the Age to Come,’ JBLMS 7 (1952), 21–28. 510 Recent scholarship on Hebrews and sacrifice: Holmes Stephen R. Death in the afternoon: Hebrews, sacrifice, and soteriology in Bauckham, R., D. R. Driver, T. A. Hart, and N. MacDonald, eds. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (2009); Mitchell Alan C. A Sacrifice of Praise Does Hebrews Promote Supersessionism? in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 251-269. 511 Psalms 26:6–7; 50:8–14; 51; 69:32; 107:22; 116:17; 119:108. See also Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 88–89; W. Thompson, ‘Hebrews 9 and Hellenistic Concepts of Sacrifice,’ JBL 98 (1979); and H. J. Kraus, Worship in Israel (1966); V. Nikiprowetzky, ‘La spiritualisation des sacrifices et le culte sacrificiel au temple de Jerusalem chez Philon d’Alexandrie,’ Sem 17 (1967), 79. 512 Samuel 15:22; Amos 4:4; 5:21–27; Hosea 6:6; 8:11–13; 13:2; Isaiah 1:10–15; 43:23–25; 65:3–11; 66:2–4, 17; Jeremiah 6:20; 7:21–24; 11:15; 19:5; 32:25; Habakkuk 1:16; Ezekiel 16:15–21; 23:36–39; Malachi 1:7–8; 3:8–9, Psalms 50:8–10; 51:16–17. 513 Thompson, Hebrews 9 and Hellenistic Concepts of Sacrifice, 567. 514 Robert A. Kugler, Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls, eds. John J. Collins and Robert A. Kugler (2000), 90. 515 Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 10. 516 See Aharon R. E. Agus, The Binding of Isaac and Messiah: Law, Martyrdom, and Deliverance in Early Rabbinic Religiosity (1988). 517 Segment stands on Hagner, Hebrews, 14–15. 518 For recent scholarship on the incorporation-appropriation of the Hebrew Scriptures by Hebrews: Leschert, D.F. Hermeneutical Foundations of Hebrews: A Study in the Validity of the Epistle’s Interpretation of Some Core Citations from the Psalms (1994); Guthrie, G. Hebrews Use of the Old Testament: Recent Trends in Research. CBR 1.2 (2003): 271-294. Wallace, D. The Use of Psalms in the Shaping of a Text: Psalm 2:7 and Psalm 110:1 in Hebrews 1’, RestQ 45: 41–50 (2003); Johnson, L. T. The Scriptural World of Hebrews Int 57 (2003): 237-250; Beale, G.K. and D.A. Carson Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament (2007); Polen Nehemia Leviticus and Hebrews ... and Leviticus in Bauckham, R., D. R. Driver, T. A. Hart, and N. MacDonald, eds. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (2009); Susan E. Docherty The Use of the Old Testament in Hebrews: A Case Study in Early Jewish Bible Interpretation (2009); Dirk J. Human and Gert Jacobus Steyn (eds.), Psalms and Hebrews: Studies in Reception (LHBOTS, 527; London: T. & T. Clark, 2010); Gelardini Gabriella Hebrews, Homiletics, and Liturgical Scripture Interpretation in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011 )121-145; Moffitt David M. The Interpretation of Scripture in the Epistle to the Hebrews in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 77-99; Ounsworth, R.J. Joshua Typology in the New Testament (2012); Whitfield, B.J. Joshua Traditions and the Argument of Hebrews 3 and 4 (2013); Dyer B.R. The epistle to The Hebrews in recent research: studies on the author's identity, his use of The Old Testament, and Theology (2013) 104-31. 505 523 519 Wilson, Related Strangers, 120. Similar views in Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 117. 520 Standing on Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 1. See more on this subject on p. 120. 521 Contra Mitchell Alan C. A Sacrifice of Praise’: Does Hebrews Promote Supersessionism? in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 251-269 and many others that reject this position. 522 On the other hand, Schäfer Peter The Jewish Jesus: How Judaism and Christianity Shaped Each Other (2012) argues that rabbinic Judaism reappropriated Jewish ideas that were first usurped by Christianity. 523 Similar conclusion in Mitchell Alan C. A Sacrifice of Praise’: Does Hebrews Promote Supersessionism? in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 251-269 524 On the Adversus Judaeos literature – See bibliography in pg. 415. Also Black, Stephen Ethnic Judeans and Christian Identity Formation in John Chrysostom's Adversus Judaeos’ 6292 in Black, Stephen ed. To Set at Liberty: Essays on Early Christianity and Its Social World (2014); Van Nuffelen, Peter Theophilus against John Chrysostom: The Fragments of a Lost liber and the Reasons for John’s Deposition Adamantius 19 (2013b) 138-55; Côté, Dominique Le problème de l’identité religieuse dans la Syrie du IVe siècle. Le cas des Pseudo-Clémentines et de l’Adversus Judaeos de saint Jean Chrysostom in Mimouni Simon C. et Pouderon Bernard eds. La croisée des chemins revisitée. Quand l’Église et la Synagogue se sont-elles distinguées? (2012) 339-70; Lahey Lawrence Evidence for Jewish Believers in Christian-Jewish Dialogues through the Sixth Century in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 581-640; David Satran in Contra Iudaeos, Ora Limor, Maurice R. Hayoun, and Guy G. Stroumsa, eds., (1996), 49–58; Stroumsa Guy G. Contra Iudaeos, Ora Limor, Maurice R. Hayoun, and Guy G. Stroumsa, eds., (1996) 8–10 525 See John Fischer, ‘Covenant Fulfillment and Judaism in Hebrews,’ ERT 13 (1989), 1–6; Robert W. Wall and William Lane, in Antisemitism and Early Christianity, eds. Craig Evans and Donald Hagner (1993), 180–181; Steven McKenzie, Covenant (2000), 118–121; Williamson, ‘Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?’ 266–279; Hagner, ‘A Positive Theology of Judaism from the New Testament,’ 14–18. Critical views of the Epistle: Beck, Mature Christianity; Wilson, Related Strangers; Williamson, ‘Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?’ 270. 526 Donald G. Bloesch, describing this worldview, writes, ‘Christianity represents not the annulment of the heritage of Israel but its fulfillment even in the midst of negation’ (‘All Israel Will Be Saved’ 139). 527 Hagner, Hebrews, 109. See also Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 381–382; Gordon, Hebrews, 27–28; Hughes, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews, 258; Spicq, L’Epitre aux Hebreux, 125; Johnson, ‘The New Testament’s Anti-Jewish Slander,’ 423–424; Lindars, The Theology of the Letter to the Hebrews, 11; Eisenbaum, ‘The Jewish Heroes of Christian History,’ 10; Salevao, Legitimation in the Letter to the Hebrews, 192–195. Contrary views in Lane, Hebrews 1–8, WBC 47a, 185. 528 Recent surveys of the debates and challenges surrounding Hebrews’ theology: Laansma Jon C. Hebrews: Yesterday, Today, and Future: An Illustrative Survey, Diagnosis, Prescription pp. 1-32; Attridge Harold W. Hebrews and the History of its Interpretation: A Biblical Scholar’s Response pp. 202-12; Donald A. Hagner, Hebrews: A Book for Today—A Biblical Scholar’s Response pp. 213-24 in Jon C. Laansma and Daniel J. Treier eds. Christology, Hermeneutics, and Hebrews: Profiles from the History of Interpretation (2012). 524 529 Wilson, Related Strangers, 121. Barnabas 530 Recent participants in the debate about Hebrew’s supersessionist impetus: Wedderburn A. J. M. Sawing off the Branches: Theologizing Dangerously Ad Hebraeos JTS 56 (2005) 393-414; Kim L. Polemic in the Book of Hebrews: Anti-Judaism, Antisemitism, Supersessionism? (2006); Hays Richard Here We Have No Lasting City’: New Covenantalism in Hebrews in The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology, ed. Richard Bauckham, et al. (2009) 151-73; Nanos, M. D. New or Renewed Covenantalism? A Response to Richard Hays in Bauckham et al., The Epistle to the Hebrews (2009) 183-188; Skarsaune, O. ‘Does the Letter to the Hebrews Articulate a Supersessionist Theology? A Response to Richard Hays.’ In Bauckham et al., The Epistle to the Hebrews, (2009); Mitchell Alan C. A Sacrifice of Praise Does Hebrews Promote Supersessionism? in Mason Eric F. and McCruden Kevin B. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews (2011) 251-269. 531 John T. Pawlikowski, “The Search for a New Paradigm for the Christian-Jewish Relationship: A Response to Michael Signer,” in Reinterpreting Revelation and Tradition: Jews and Christians in Conversation (ed. John T. Pawlikowski and Hayim Goren Perelmuter; Franklin, Wis.: Sheed& Ward, 2000), 25. 532 My summary of Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 2, 248, and 256; Hvalvik Reidar The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant: The Purpose of the Epistle of Barnabas and JewishChristian Competition in the Second Century (1996) 249-67. Recent: Paget Carleton James Barnabas and the Outsiders: Jews and Their World in the Epistle of Barnabas in Mark Grundeken and Joseph Verheyden eds. Early Christian Communities Between Ideal and Reality (2015) 533 J. C. Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas (1994), 2; and Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 110–142, Hvalvik Reidar The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant: The Epistle of Barnabas and Jewish-Christian Competition in the Second Century (1996) among many 534 Simon Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers (1986), 23. 535 For full discussion, see P. Richardson and M. B. Shukster, ‘Barnabas, Nerva, and the Yavnean Rabbis,’ JTS n. S. 34 (1983), 32–55; Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 51; Wilson, Related Strangers, 34–37 and 132–133. 536 Standing on Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 2, 260–262. 537 Wilson, Related Strangers, 139. 538 See Barnabas’ ‘explanations’ on the origins of Jewish food laws and customs 10.1–12. Also Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 2, 72. 539 G. Alon, ‘Halacha in the Epistle of Barnabas,’ Tarbiz 12 (1940), 20–41. 540 Jewish numerology, i.e., the use of numbers as a mystical vehicle. 541 Follows my condensation of Wilson, Related Strangers, 128–129; Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 56; Jefford, C. N., K. J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga, Jr. Reading the Apostolic Fathers. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1996.20; and Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 23. 542 Wilson, Related Strangers, 137; and Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 9. 543 See discussion on missionary and secessionist communities on p. 146-8. 544 James R. Mueller, in Antisemitism and Early Christianity, Evans Ed and Hagner (1993), 257, points to W. Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, R. Kraft and G. Krodel, eds. (1971); H. Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, vol. 2: History and Literature of Early 525 Christianity (1982); and Hennecke-Schneemelcher-Wilson, New Testament Apocrypha, 1.134– 78, as the earliest to identify this phenomenon. 545 Wilson, Related Strangers, 137; and Michele Murray, Playing a Jewish Game (2004), 54. 546 Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 51. 547 Per Wilson, Related Strangers, 136. 548 My elaboration of Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 59; and Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 58. 549 My summary of Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 28–33. 550 Wilson, Related Strangers, 137–138); Reidar Hvalvik, The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant (1996), 147–148); and Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 52. 551 My rewording of Wilson, Related Strangers, 9–10 552 My rewording of Wilson, Related Strangers, 9–10. 553 Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 40–41. 554 For further reading, see Richardson and Shukste, ‘Barnabas, Nerva, and the Yavnean Rabbis,’ 37; Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 69–70; Wilson, Related Strangers, 9–10; Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 47. 555 See further discussion in chapter 10. 556 Ibid., 57. 557 My elaboration of Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 57; and Wilson, Related Strangers, 130. 558 See Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 57. 559 Summary of Wilson, Related Strangers, 130. 560 Same argument in Hvalvik, The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant, 99; and Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 56, regarding Judaism, not the Jewish followers of Jesus. 561 Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 36. 562 For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415; Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 139-151; Hvalvik Reidar The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant: The Purpose of the Epistle of Barnabas and JewishChristian Competition in the Second Century (1996) 249-67 563 Standing on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 58. 564 My condensation of Wilson’s thematic introduction (Related Strangers, 128 and 130). In parenthesis: my modification. 565 J. B. Lightfoot, trans., The Epistle of Barnabas: http://www.earlychristian writings.com. 566 Summary is informed by Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas and Hvalvik Reidar The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant: The Purpose of the Epistle of Barnabas and Jewish-Christian Competition in the Second Century (1996) 249-67 567 Anti-Jewish-establishment rhetoric is the designation I have used throughout to encapsulate various types and manifestations of Jewish sectarian posturing against the Jewish mainstreamestablishment, to the inclusion of the ‘Two Ways’ imagery. We have already noted that the ‘Two Ways’ theme is the label given by scholars to a Judean sectarian worldview that sees this world as the battleground between the forces of good and evil. This is contrary to the traditional Israelite view that creation was good and benign. 568 for more on this topic see G. W. Nickelsburg 1 Enoch: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch (2001), 454–459. 569 On secessionist communities, see pg. 146-8. Evil is ‘everywhere’ (2:1; 4:1; 9:4, 13) 570 Lehne, The New Covenant in Hebrews, 22 571 My condensation of Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 197–199. 526 572 Nicholas R. M. De Lange, Origen and the Jews: Studies in Jewish-Christian Relations in Third Century Palestine (1976); Wayne A. Meeks and Robert L. Wilken, Jews and Christians in Anlioch in the First Four Centuries of the Common Era (1978), 27; J. R. Donahue, JewishChristian Controversy in the Second Century: Justin Martyr (1973), 254; M. Simon, Versus Israel-Jews and Christians in the Roman Empire (1986), xii; Miriam S. Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity: A Critique of the Scholarly Consensus (1997). 46. G. Strecker, in W. Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, R. Kraft and G. Krodel, eds. (1971), 262; John Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism (1985), 115 and 132; Wilken, John Chrisostom and the Jews (1983); Lloyd Gaston, ‘Retrospect,’ in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, Stephen G. Wilson, ed. (1986), 166); Studies in Christianity and Judaism, S. G. Wilson, ed. (1986), 33–44; Judith M. Lieu, Neither Jew nor Greek? Constructing Early Christianity (2003); Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 2. 573 Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 69–70 574 Murray, Playing a Jewish Game. 575 My fusion of Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 38; and Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 52, 69–70. 576 Standing on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 54. 577 Paget, The Epistle of Barnabas, 185. 578 Standing on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 52–53. Supersession 579 There are traces and insinuations of the term ‘New Israel’ in Matthew, Hebrews, and in the Pauline letters but the unequivocal and overt claim to the designation ‘New Israel’ does not occur in any of the New Testament documents. I assume the use of this designation, or similar and equivalent ones, by the Jewish followers of Jesus. 580 The prophet Nahum being the most subservient. 581 More on this subject in Richard A. Horsley and John S. Hanson, Bandits Prophets and Messiahs: Popular Movements at the Time of Jesus (1985), Chapter 1. 582 See Horsley and Hanson, Bandits, Prophets and Messiahs. 583 R. R. Ruether, Faith and Fratricide: The Theological Roots of Antisemitism (1974), 90–91. 584 Standing on Craig A. Evans and Donald A. Hagner, Antisemitism and Early Christianity (1993), 9–17. 585 N. A. Beck, Mature Christianity: The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1985), 11–13. 586 Standing on Robert Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews (1983), 133. 587 The supremacy of one God—during the last two thousand years Judaism has evolved away from its tribal crucible toward a universalistic and monotheistic outlook, while still partially anchored in its ancestral (henotheistic) tribal origins. Lawrence Schiffman, Who was a Jew? (1985); and Adiel Schremer, Brothers Estranged: Heresy, Christianity, and Jewish Identity in Late Antiquity (2010). 588 For a summary evaluation of the impact of 70 and 135 ce, see Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 3–5. 589 See P. Richardson, Israel in the Apostolic Church (1969), 33–38; L. H. Schiffman, Who Was a Jew? (1985), 75–78; M. Simon, Versus Israel (1986), 3–65; J. Dunn, The Partings of the 527 Ways (1991), 230, 245; Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 150–151, 163; and Wilson, Related Strangers, 4–5, 8–11, and 285–288. 590 Wilson, Related Strangers, 4–5. 591 Standing on Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 150–151. 592 George Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins: Diversity, Continuity and Transformation (2003), 59, 116–117. 593 John T. Pawlikowski, Jesus and the Theology of Israel (1989), 66. 594 Nickelsburg, Ancient Judaism and Christian Origins, 59. 595 In James H. Charlesworth, Jesus and the Dead Sea Scrolls (1992), 235–253. 596 Houses of prayer are attested in the Diaspora since the third century BCE. Synagogues, gathering places where the Torah was read, are widely attested in Judea from the late second century bc onward. Recent: Recently: Levine Lee I. The Ancient Synagogue: The First Thousand Years 2nd ed. (2005); Runesson Anders, Binder Donald D., and Olsson Birger The Ancient Synagogue from Its Origins to 200 CE in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 72 (2008) 597 Wilson, Related Strangers, 287. 598 The disciples that ‘did not understand,’ ‘abandoned,’ and ‘denied’ and the ‘hidden Messiah motif.’ 599 Standing on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 58. 07 – Chapter 7 – The Post Canonical Era 600 See more details in W. Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, ed. R. Kraft and G. Krodel (1971). 601 See bibliography on the Jewish Followers of Jesus pg 415. R. E. Brown, ‘Not Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity but Types of Jewish/Gentile Christianity,’ CBQ 45 (January 1983) for early diversity. 602 See Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels (1990), 165; and Bart Ehrman, Lost Christianities: The Battle for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew (2003) on this subject. 603 Summary of Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels, introduction. 604 I first encountered the term in Bart Ehrman’s Lost Christianities. Recent: Grundeken Mark and Verheyden Joseph eds. Early Christian Communities between Ideal and Reality (2015) 16175 605 See bibliography in Pg. 415. 606 I build on B. J. Malina, Jewish-Christianity or Christian-Judaism: Toward a Hypothetical Definition (1976), 46–47. On ‘Jewish Christianity,’ see H. J. Schoeps, Jewish Christianity (1969); G. Strecker, ‘On the Problem of Jewish Christianity,’ in Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, by W. Bauer, trans. R. A. Kraft and G. Kroedel, eds. (1971), 241–285; A. Kraft, ‘In search of ‘Jewish Christianity’ and its Theology: Problems of Definition and Methodology,’ Recherches de Sciences Religieuse 60 (1972), 81–96 ; A. F. J. Klijn and G. J. Reinink, Patristic Evidence for Jewish-Christian Sects (1973) ; A. F. J. Klijn, ‘The Study of Jewish-Christianity,’ NTS (1973 –74), 419–426 ; J. D. Dunn, Unity and Diversity in the New Testament (1977), 239–266 ; S. K. Riegel, ‘Jewish Christianity: Definitions and Terminology,’ NTS 24 (1978), 411; R A. Fritz, Nazarene Jewish Christianity: From the End of the First Century Until Its Disappearance in the Fourth Century (1988); R. E. Van Voorst, The Ascents of James: History and Theology of a Jewish-Christian Community (1989); Gerd Ludemann, Opposition to Paul in Jewish Christianity, trans. E. Boring (1989), 1–34. Updated views in O. Skarsaune and R. Hvalvik, eds., Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007); and Matt Jackson-Mccabe, 528 ed., Jewish Christianity Reconsidered (2007). See also Shaye J. D. Cohen, From the Maccabees to the Mishnah (1987), 168; and J. T. Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants (1993), 58. 607 Skarsaune and Hvalvik, Jewish Believers in Jesus (2007). Also Jackson-Mccabe Matt ed. Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts (2007); Evans Craig A. The Literary Heritage of Jewish Believers in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 241-278 608 See Boccaccini Gabriele Beyond the Essene Hypothesis: The Parting of the Ways between Qumran and Enochic Judaism (1998); Jackson David R. Enochic Judaism: Three Defining Paradigm Exemplars (2004) 609 Skarsaune Oskar The Ebionites in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 419-463; Kinzig Wolfram The Nazoraeans in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 463-488; afHällström Gunnar Cerinthus, Elxai, Elkesaites, and Sampseans in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 488-505; Skarsaune Oskar Jewish Christian Traditions in Origen in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 361-373; Knox John The Origin of the Ebionites in The Image of the JudaeoChristians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003) 162-81 610 On the parting of the ways debate: Segal Alan F. Rebecca’s Children: Judaism and Christianity in the Roman World (1986); Neusner Jacob Jews and Christians: The Myth of a Common Tradition (1991). Dunn James D.G ed. The Parting of the Ways Between Christianity and Judaism (1992); Wilson, Stephen G Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 70–170 C. E. (1995); Porter Stanley E. and Pearson Brooke W.R. Why the Split? Christians and Jews by the Fourth Century in Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism 1 (2000) 82–119; Meeks Wayne A. Breaking Away: Three New Testament Pictures of Christianity’s Separation from the Jewish Communities in Search of the Early Christians: Selected Essays Hilton Allen R. and Snyder Gregory h. (2002) 115–23; Becker Adam and Annette Reed Yoshiko eds. The Ways that never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages (2003); Fredriksen Paula What Parting of the Ways? in The Ways that Never Parted, (2003); Lieu Judith, Neither Jew nor Greek? in The Ways that never Parted (2003); Zetterholm Magnus The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social-Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and Christianity (2003); Boyarin Daniel Border Lines: The Partition of JudaeoChristianity (2004); Reinhartz Adele A Fork in the Road or a Multi-Lane Highway? pages 278– 329 in Henderson Ian and Oegema Gerbern eds. The Changing Face of Judaism: Christianity and Other Greco-Roman Religions in Antiquity (2006) 278-329; Jossa Giorgo Jews or Christians? The Followers of Jesus in Search of Their Own Identity (2006); Jackson-Mccabe Matt ed., Jewish Christianity Reconsidered: Rethinking Ancient Groups and Texts (2007); Heemstra Marius The Fiscus Judaicus and the Parting of the Ways (2010); Cohen, Shaye JD. The ways that parted: Jews, Christians, and Jewish-Christians ca. 100-150 CE (2013), Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) 151-167; Gager J.G. Who Did What to Whom? Physical Violence between Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity in A most reliable witness edited by Harvey Susan Ashbrook, DesRosiers Nathaniel, Lander Shira L., Pastis Jacqueline Z. and Ullucci Daniel (2015) 611 For an updated guide to the subject, see Hans-Josef Klauck, The Religious Context of Early Christianity: A Guide to Graeco-Roman Religion (2003). 612 Scholarship abounds with references to the contribution of Christian 529 self-definition to anti-Judaism. See detailed discussions in R. R. Ruether, Faith and Fratricide: The Theological Roots of Antisemitism (1974), 181; and in Lloyd Gaston, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity vol. 2 Stephen G. Wilson ed. (1986) 164. 613 Wilson, Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, 48; and D. P. Efroymson, Tertullian’s Anti-Judaism and Its Role in Theology (1976), 112–146. 614 Joseph Tyson, Marcion and Luke-Acts (2006), 26–31. 615 Similar view in Wilson, Related Strangers, 214–215. Recent: Lieu Judith Marcion and the Making of a Heretic (2015) 616 According to Tertullian, Marcion was ‘forced to form an alliance with the Jewish error and construct for himself an argument from it’ (Adv. Marc. 6.2; cf. 23.1) also Judith M. Lieu, Image and Reality (1996), 264. 617 See discussion in Lieu, Image and Reality, 269–270. 618 Indebted to Wilson, Related Strangers, 216; and Lieu, Image and Reality, 264. 619 Rejected the humanity of Christ. Jesus’ humanity was an illusion. 620 See Wilson, Related Strangers, 216. Also Michele Murray, Playing a Jewish Game (2004), 102; and Miriam Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995), 171. 621 This segment feeds on Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity, 171. 36. See John Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism (1985), 189. 622 See Michael Williams, Rethinking Gnosticism (1996), Christoph Markschies Gnosis An Introduction (2003) for general discussions of the topic. 623 On the Gnostic impact on early Christianity, see Christoph Markschies Gnosis An Introduction (2003), Klaick Hans-Josef, The Religious Context of Early Christianity (2000), part VI. On cross-influence between Judaism, Christianity, and Gnosticism, see Alan F. Segal, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, Wilson, 133–162. 624 Hans Jonas, The Gnostic Religion (1958), 31–46. Gnosticism impacte Judaism too. Kabbalah was to G. Sholem ‘Jewish Gnosticism.’ Others support the Jewish origins of Gnosticism. B. Layton, The Rediscovery of Gnosticism (1980); Elaine Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels (1943); and Kurt Rudolph, Gnosis: The Nature & History of Gnosticism (1987). 625 Wilson, Related Strangers, 204. See also G. A. Strousma, Another Seed: Studies in Gnostic Mythology, Nag Hammadi Studies, No. 24 (1997). 626 See Jonas, The Gnostic Religion, 31–46; Layton, The Rediscovery of Gnosticism; Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels; and Kurt, Gnosis. 627 See Origen, Evagrius of Pontus, and others. Mystical and Gnostic affinities brought about Origen’s condemnation as a heretic by the second council of Constantinople (ce 553). 628 Similar views in David Sim and Boris Repschinski, eds., Matthew and His Christian Contemporaries (2008), 7 629 Lieu, Image and Reality, 264–265. 630 Bart Ehrman, The New Testament: Historical Introduction (2007). 631 On the Pesher exegetical method, see pg. 113, 210-211 632 Supersession theology is sometimes referred to as substitution or replacement theology (see chapter 10). Ignatius 633 Jefford, C. N., K. J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga, Jr. Reading the Apostolic Fathers. (1996) 54. Eusebius places the martyrdom of Ignatius in the reign of Trajan (98–117). 634 Simon Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers (1986), 105. Recently: On Ignatius’ ministry: Maier Harry O. Paul, Ignatius and Thirdspace: A Socio-geographic Exploration in The Apostolic 530 Fathers and Paul, Pauline and Patristics Scholars in Debate ed. Todd D. Still and David E. Wilhite (2016) 162-180); Sullivan F. A. From Apostles to Bishops: The Development of the Episcopacy in the Early Church (2001) 103–25; Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature – Ignatius- in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 505-510; Smith Carl B. Ministry, Martyrdom,and Other Mysteries: Pauline Influence on Ignatius of Antioch in Paul and the Second Century ed. Michael F. Bird and Joseph R. Dodson, LNTS 412 (2011) 57–69 635 Interesting analysis of the de-Judaizing thrust of Ignatius’s ministry in David Sim and Boris Repschinski, eds., Matthew and His Christian Contemporaries (2008), Chapter 8 636 On the Jewish followers of Jesus in Ignatius: Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 167-173; Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature - Ignatius in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 505-510; Hidal Sten The Emergence of Christianity in Syria 568 in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 568-581; Lieu Judith M. Christian Identity in the Jewish and Graeco-Roman World (2004) 252–53; For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415. 637 Jefford, C. N., K. J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga, Jr. Reading the Apostolic Fathers. (1996) 55. Recently: Lotz John-Paul Ignatius and Concord: The Background and Use of the Language of Concord in the Letters of Ignatius of Antioch Patristic Studies 8 (2007); Brent Allen Ignatius of Antioch and the Second Sophistic: A Study of an Early Christian Transformation of Pagan Culture (2006) 254–311; Harry O. Maier, The Politics and Rhetoric of Discord and Concordin Ignatius and Paul in The New Testament and the Apostolic Fathers: Vol. 2 Trajectories through the New Testament and the Apostolic Fathers ed. Andrew F. Gregoryand Christopher M. Tuckett (2005) 307–24 638 P. J. Donahue, Jewish Christianity in the Letters of Ignatius (1978), 87, identifies the ‘heretics’ Ignatius is fighting against as ‘Christian Jews’; Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature – Ignatius- in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 505-510 639 My elaboration of Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 105. 640 My rewording Michele Murray’s presentation in Playing a Jewish Game (2004). 641 Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature – Ignatius- in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 505-510 642 Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 147–165. 643 J. B. Lightfoot, trans., Ignatius, the Epistle to the Philadelphians, http://www.earlychristianwritings.com. 644 J. B. Lightfoot, trans., Ignatius, the Epistle to the Philadelphians, http://www.earlychristianwritings.com. 645 J. T. Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants (1993), 197. 646 Standing on Wilson, Related Strangers, 219–220; and Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 104– 106. 647 Similar views in Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 90–91. 648 Ignatius here resonates with Barnabas who took similar positions. 649 Believers that rejected the humanity of Jesus. To Docetists Jesus was divine, his humanity being an illusion. 531 650 On rhetorical strategy see Michael Isacson, To Each Their Own Letter: Structure, Themes, & Rhetorical Strategies in the Letters of Ignatius of Antioch (2004). 651 Wilson, Related Strangers, 117. 652 Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, 106–107, 114–115; Wilson, Related Strangers, 117; Jefford, C. N., K. J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga, Jr. Reading the Apostolic Fathers. (1996) 64–66. Justin 653 . J. D. Crossan, The Cross That Spoke (1988), 66 654 My elaboration of Murray Michele’s summary, Playing a Jewish Game (2004), 96. See also Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature – Justinin Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 510-514 655 On the Jewish followers of Jesus in Justin: Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 173-179; Lahey Lawrence Evidence for Jewish Believers in Christian-Jewish Dialogues through the Sixth Century in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 581-640; Skarsaune Oskar Jewish Christian Sources in Justin in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 380-419, 510-516; For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415. 656 A Jewish audience is suggested by T. Stylianopoulos, Justin Martyr and the Mosaic Law (1975), 35–44. 657 See Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 165–167; and Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 96. 658 Wilson, Related Strangers, 165–167. 659 The embryonic stages of the doctrines that will eventually be known as ‘Christian Orthodoxy.’ Similar views in P. Richardson, Israel in the Apostolic Church (1969), 9–13; and Wilson, Related Strangers, 269–270. 660 Citations per Anthony J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Christian-Jewish Community (1994), 22–23. 661 Wilson, Related Strangers, 269–270. 662 See Miriam Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995), 170–172. 663 Murray, Playing a Jewish Game (2004) 95–96. On the Jewish followers of Jesus in Justyn see also Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature – Justin- in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 510-514. 664 Wilson, Related Strangers, 277. 665 Somewhat similar in Wilson, Related Strangers, 98–99. 666 For a recent survey of scholarship on this subject, see Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 141– 148. See G. Strecker, in W. Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, R. Kraft and G. Krodel, eds. (1971), 262; John G. Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism (1983), 115 and 132; Robert Wilken, John Chrisostom and the Jews (1983); Lloyd Gaston, ‘Retrospect,’ in AntiJudaism in Early Christianity, Vol. 2, Wilson, ed. (1986), 166; L Studies in Christianity and Judaism, Wilson, ed. (1986), 33–44; Judith M. Lieu, Neither Jew Nor Greek? Constructing Early Christianity, (2003); Murray, Playing a Jewish Game (2004) 2; Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature – Justin- in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 510514. 532 667 Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 98–99. Same conclusion in Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 98–99. 669 Irenaeus tells us that Justin Martyr wrote a work against Marcion, which is now lost. See also Wilson, Related Strangers, 268 and 274–278; Stylianopoulos, Justin Martyr and the Mosaic Law, 20–32; Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity, 171; and D. P. Efroymson, in Antisemitism and the Foundations Christianity, A. T. Davies and A. T. Ed, eds. (1979), 105. 670 Just to name the latest: H. Remus, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, Vol. 2, Wilson, 69– 80; W. Horbury, in Jews and Christians: The Parting of the Ways A. D. 70 to 135, James D. G. Dunn, ed. (1992), 326–345; and J. T. Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants (1993), 50–55; Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 91. 671 Wilson, Related Strangers, 260. 672 For discussion of the anti-Judaism of the Dialogue, see Wilson, Related Strangers, 265–274; and H. Remus, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, S. G. Wilson, ed. (1986), vol. 2, 74–80. 673 G. Alon, The Jews in Their Land in the Talmudic Age (1989), vol. 1, esp. 1–17. See also B. Isaac, Judaea after A. D. 70 (1984); E. M. Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule (1976), 327–371. 674 Wilson Stephen G. (Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 1995, 9-10, 286-289) in the footsteps of Dunn James D.G (The Parting of the Ways, 1991-230-65). Recently: Peter Schäfer, The Jewish Jesus (Princeton University Press, 2012) 84 calls for nuance. 675 Bibliography: ‘Hadrian's Policy in Judea and the Bar Kochba Revolt: A Reassessment,’ in P. R. Davies and R. T. White, cds. (Essays on Jewish and Christian Literature and History, 1990, 281-303), Smallwood E. M. (The Jews under Roman Rule, 1976, 428-80), E. Schurer (The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C-A.D. 1.35), G. Vermes and F Millar (1973, vol.1, 535-53), G. L. Bowersock (A Roman Perspective on the Bar Kochba War in W. S. Green, ed., Approaches to Ancient Judaism, 1980, vol.2. 131—41), B. Isaac and A. Oppenheimer (The Revolt of Bar Kochba: Ideology and Modern Scholarship,’ JJS 36, 1985, 3360), G. Alon, The Jews in Their Land in the Talmudic Age (1989), vol. 1, esp. 1–17. See also B. Isaac, Judaea after A. D. 70 (1984), Wilson Stephen G. (Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 1995, 9-19). Also, see analysis in Dunn James D.G (The Parting of the Ways, 1991-230-65), Dunn James D.G ed. (The Parting of the Ways Between Christianity and Judaism,1992); Wilson Stephen G. (Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 1995, 1-10); Peter Schäfer, ed. The Bar Kokhba War Reconsidered: New Perspectives on the Second Jewish Revolt Against Rome (2003). 676 Justin I Apol.31.6; Eusebius Hist. eccl.4.6.2 677 Wilson Stephen G. (Related Strangers: Jews and Christians, 1995, 19). Alon G (The Jews in Their Land in the Talmudic Age, vol.2, 647-8) argues for continuing persecution. 668 08 – Chapter 8 - Theology gone awry 678 See bibliography on Adversus Judaeos literature Pg. 415. 679 ‘Quartodecimanism’ refers to the practice of fixing the celebration of Passover for Christians on the fourteenth day of Nisan in the Old Testament’s Hebrew Calendar. A controversy arose concerning whether it should instead be celebrated on one particular Sunday each year, which is now the floating holiday that is commonly called Easter Sunday. Skarsaune Oskar Evidence for Jewish Believers in Greek and Latin Patristic Literature – the Quartodecimans in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 516-528 680 Standing on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 106–107. 533 681 Further reading in Wilson, ed., Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, 97; Miriam Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995), 58; Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 114. 682 A. Hansen, The Sitz im Leben of the Paschal Homily of Melito of Sardis (1968) 180; K. W. Noakes, Melito of Sardis and the Jews (1975), 246; S. G. Wilson, ed., Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, 95–100; and David Satran in Contra Iudaeos, Ora Limor, Maurice R. Hayoun, and Guy G. Stroumsa, eds., (1996), 49–58; Diss. AbstrActs 29 (1969); Lahey Lawrence The Role of Contra Iudaeos Literature in Christian-Jewish Interaction Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 620-637 683 Stephen Wilson, ed., Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity (1986), vol. 2, 98; A. T. Kraabel, Judaism in Western Asia Minor (1968), 216–217. 684 Standing on Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 248; and Michele Murray, Playing a Jewish Game (2004), 113. 685 Stroumsa Guy G. Contra Iudaeos, Ora Limor, Maurice R. Hayoun, and Guy G. Stroumsa, eds., (1996) 8–10, Wilson, Related Strangers, 257. 686 From http://www.kerux.com/documents/KeruxV4N1A1.asp 687 Paraphrasing Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 116. 688 More in Wilson, Related Strangers, 254. 689 We may point out that the virulence of this disturbing text is somewhat similar in tone to the viciousness of protestant anti-Catholic and of catholic anti-protestant polemic during the sixteenth century. 690 See Wilson, Related Strangers, 257. Chrysostom 691 Chrysostom: Golden-mouth. 692 This segment is my condensation and interpretation of Robert Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews (1983), xv, 29–30, and 32. 693 Recent scholarship on Chrysostom: VanVeller Courtney John Chrysostom and the Troubling Jewishness of Paul in de Wet Chris and Mayer Wendy eds. (Re)Visioning John Chrysostom: New Theories and Approaches (2016); Black, Stephen Ethnic Judeans and Christian Identity Formation in John Chrysostom's Adversus Judaeos’ 62-92 in Black, Stephen ed. To Set at Liberty: Essays on Early Christianity and Its Social World (2014); Rylaarsdam, David John Chrysostom on Divine Pedagogy: The Coherence of his Theology and Preaching (2014); Van Nuffelen, Peter Theophilus against John Chrysostom: The Fragments of a Lost liber and the Reasons for John’s Deposition Adamantius 19 (2013b) 138-55; Côté, Dominique Le problème de l’identité religieuse dans la Syrie du IVe siècle. Le cas des Pseudo-Clémentines et de l’Adversus Judaeos de saint Jean Chrysostom in Mimouni Simon C. et Pouderon Bernard eds. La croisée des chemins revisitée. Quand l’Église et la Synagogue se sont-elles distinguées? (2012) 339-70; Lahey Lawrence Evidence for Jewish Believers in Christian-Jewish Dialogues through the Sixth Century in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 581-640 Mayer, Wendy The Homilies of St John Chrysostom – Provenance. Reshaping the foundations, Rome: Pontificium Institutum Orientalium Studiorum (2005); Kelly, J.N.D. Golden Mouth. The Story of John Chrysostom - Ascetic, Preacher, Bishop (1995); Liebeschuetz, Wolfgang The Fall of John Chrysostom Nottingham Medieval Studies 29: 1-31 (1985) 694 Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 124, 148–149; and Pieter W. Van Der Horst, in Christian-Jewish Relations through the Centuries, Stanley E. Porter and Brook W. R. Pearson, eds. (2000), 228–229. 534 695 Segments from John Chrysostom, Discourses against Judaizing Christians, vol. 68 of Fathers of the Church, trans. Paul W. Harkins (1979). See commentary on Antioch’s Gentile Judaizers in M. Simon, Versus Israel—Jews and Christians in the Roman Empire (1986), 374. 696 John Chrysostom, Eight Homilies against the Jews, Patrologia Greaca, vol. 98. Internet History Sourcebooks Project, ed. Paul Halsall, Fordham University: http://www.fordham.edu/Halsall/index.asp. 697 Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 118. 698 Chrysostom, Eight Homilies against the Jews. 699 James Parkes, Antisemitism (1969), 153. 700 Simon, Versus Israel, 145. 701 My summary of Stephen G. Wilson, Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995), 128; and Simon Tugwell, The Apostolic Fathers, (1986), 23. 702 Chrysostom, Eight Homilies against the Jews. 703 On the Antiochean context of Chrysostom; Shepardson Christine Controlling Contested Places: Late Antique Antioch and the Spatial Politics of Religious Controversy (2014); Sandwell, Isabella Religious Identity in Late Antiquity. Greeks, Jews and Christians in Antioch (2007); Fonrobert, Charlotte Jewish Christians, Judaizers, and anti-Judaism in Burrus Virginia ed. Late Ancient Christianity: A People’s History of Christianity (2005); Mayer Wendy Who Came to Hear John Chrysostom Preach? Recovering a Late Fourth Century Preacher’s Audience Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses 76 (2000) 73-87; van der Horst, Pieter Jews and Christians in Antioch at the End of the Fourth Century in Stanley Porter and Brook Pearson eds. Christian-Jewish Relations through the Centuries (2000) 228-38; 704 On the Jews of ancient Antioch, see C. H. Kraeling, ‘The Jewish Community at Antioch,’ JBL 51 (1932), 130–160; G. Downey, A History of Antioch in Syria, from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest (1961), 447–449. 705 On this subject, see Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 68. 706 Van Der Horst, in Christian-Jewish Relations through the Centuries, Porter and Brook, 233. 707 Similar views in Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 67. 708 Laird, Raymond John Chrysostom and the Anomoeans: Shaping an Antiochene Perspective on Christology in Mayer Wendy and Bronwen Neil eds. Religious Conflict from Early Christianity to the Rise of Islam (2013) 129-49 709 Jaclyn L. Maxwell, Christianization and Communication in Late Antiquity: John Chrysostom and His Congregation in Antioch (2006). Summary 710 Standing on Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews, 163–164. 711 On Adversus Judaeos bibliography see note in Pg. 415. 712 For a survey, see Edward Kessler, An Introduction to Jewish-Christian Relations (2010), Chapter 3. 01 – Chapter 1 – Polemic in the New Testament 713 See bibliography on Q and M pg. 415 714 Stanton Graham Jewish Christian Elements in the Pseudo-Clementine Writings in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 305323; Van de Sandt H. and D. Flusser. The Didache: Its Jewish Sources and Its Place in Early Judaism and Christianity (2002); Jones F. Stanley An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27-71. Christian Apocrypha Series 2 (1995) 535 715 N. Beck, Mature Christianity in the 21st Century (1994). On present state of synoptics research: Burkett Delbert Rethinking the Gospel Sources: From Proto-Mark to Mark (2004); Burkett Delbert The Unity and Plurality of Q (2009); Foster Paul, Gregory Andrew, Kloppenborg John S. and Verheyden Joseph eds. New Studies in the Synoptic Problem BETL, vol. 239 (2011); Sim David Matthew and the Synoptic Problem Foster Paul, Gregory Andrew, Kloppenborg John S. and Verheyden Joseph eds. New Studies in the Synoptic Problem BETL, vol. 239 (2011); Arnal William The Synoptic Problem and the Historical Jesus NSSP (2011) 371-432; Foster Paul, Gregory Andrew, Kloppenborg John S. and Verheyden Jozef eds. New Studies in the Synoptic Problem (2011); Becker Eve-Marie and Runesson Anders eds. Mark and Matthew I and II: Comparative Readings: Reception History, Cultural Hermeneutics, and Theology (2011, 2013). The papers in the first volume focus on the two gospels in their first century settings. The papers in the second volume focus on the reception history of these two gospels; Kloppenborg John S Synoptic Problems: Collected Essays WUNT, vol. 329 (2014); Goodacre Mark The Farrer Hypothesis and Farrer Hypothesis Response in Stanley E. Porter and Bryan R. Dyer (eds.), The Synoptic Problem: Four Views (2016) 47-66 and 127-38; Stanley E. Porter and Bryan R. Dyer eds. The Synoptic Problem: Four Views (2016) 717 Selection of verses found in Ed Evans and Donald Hagner, Antisemitism and Early Christianity (1993), 1–3. 718 M. Simon, Versus Israel-Jews and Christians in the Roman Empire (1986) 03 Scholarship 716 719 The summary of quotes below is my rewording and reformulation of Klein, Charlotte AntiJudaism in Christian Theology (1978) 720 Similar argument in Moore George F. (Christian Writers on Judaism, Harvard Theological Review XIV, 1921, 197) 721 The Torah – The Pentateuch, the first five books of the Hebrew Bible. According to Jewish tradition, the prescriptions and commandments received by Moses, from God, at Mount Sinai. Often used to describe the totality of Jewish religious lore and learning. The Law – The Pauline term for the Torah. Most often used in an adversarial way and derogatory way. 722 Klein, Charlotte. Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology, 1975) 723 E. Iohse Israel 15 724 Rudolf Bultmann Prophecy 74 725 Joachim Jeremias The Parables of Jesus (1963) 139 726 H. Schlier Die Zeit der Kirche (1976) 46 727 W. Grundmann Gestitchte 728 M. Dibelius Jesus 117 729 W. Bousset and H. Gressmann Die Religion des Judentums (1925) 372 730 Rudolf Bultmann Theology vol I, 21 731 A. Schlatter, Die Geschichte des Christus (1921) 444 732 Martin Noth Laws 106 733 Julius Wellhausen Israelitische und jüdische Geschichte (1894) 282 734 Eduard Meyer Ursprung vol ii 429 735 H. Schlier Die Zeit def Kirche 241 736 Leonhard Goppelt Jesus, Paul and Judaism (1964) 93 737 M. Schmaus Katholische Dagmatik vol. /I, 82 738 M. Schmaus Katholische Dagmatik, vol. ii/2 105 536 739 Gunther Schiwy Weg ins Neue Testament 78 J. Blank Vum Messias Zum Christus (1964) 306-308 741 M. Schmaus Katholische Dagmatik vol. ii/2, 513 742 Pierre Benoit Jesus and the Gospel vol. ii (1973) 743 M. Dibelius Jesus 109 744 Schürer Geschichte des judischen Volks imZeitalter, Jesu Christi (1890) 579 745 Eduard Meyer Ursprung, vol ii, 428 746 Eduard Meyer Ursprung, vol ii, 427 747 Julius Wellhausen Israelitische und jüdische Geschichte (1894) 283 748 Emil Schürer Geschichte des judischen Volks imZeitalter, Jesu Christi (1890) 569, 572 749 Leonhard Goppelt Jesus, Paul and Judaism (1964) 166 750 H. Schlier Die Zeit def Kirche 241 751 M. Schmaus Katholische Dagmatik vol. ii/2, 124 752 H. Schlier Die Zeit def Kirche 240 753 W. Bousset and H. Gressmann Die Religion des Judentums (1925) 136, 298 754 W. Bousset and H. Gressmann Die Religion des Judentums (1925) 409 755 A. Schlatter, Die Geschichte des Christus (1921) 364 756 Julius Wellhausen Israelitische und jüdische Geschichte (1894) 364 757 H. Schlier Die Zeit def Kirche 242 758 M. Schmaus Katholische Dagmatik vol. /I, 79 759 Georg Fohrer Studien 49-50 760 Leonhard Goppelt Christologie and Ethic (1968) 187 761 H. Schlier Die Zeit def Kirche 243 762 H. Schlier Die Zeit def Kirche 242 763 M. Schmaus Katholische Dagmatik vol. Iv/2, 168) 764 Karl Rahner Spiritual Exercises (1967) 229-30 765 Leonhard Goppelt Christologie and Ethic (1968) 187 766 Moore George F. Christian Writers on Judaism, Harvard Theological Review XIV (1921) 197 767 The publication of The Jew and His Neighbour in 1929. See also (The Conflict of the Church and the Synagogue; a Study in the Origins of Antisemitism (1961, 1969, 1974) 768 Herford, R. Travers Christianity in Talmud and Midrash (1903) 769 See bibliography on the responsibility for Jesus’ death pg. 415. 770 This discussion is not intended as an exhaustive presentation of the subject. It is rather a limited engagement of emerging paradigms relevant to this monograph. 771 Simon M. Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman empire is widely considered the foundational text. See also Taylor Miriam Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995) 189-195 and Murray Michele Playing a Jewish Game (2004) 139-141 among many. For bibliography on the myth of Jewish proselytizing see pg. 415 772 See pg.415 for bibliography on the lack of evidence for Jewish proselytizing. 773 Simon M. Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman empire (1986) 379 774 Simon M. Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman empire (1986) 367 775 On this subject: Simon M. Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman empire (1986) 135 and 166—213, Wilken R. L. Judaism in Roman and Christian Society Journal of Religion (1967) 318, Gager J. The Origins of Antisemitism (1983) 134, 156, Wilken Robert John Chrysostom and the Jews, 1983, 69), (Segal, pp. 84—155), Taylor Miriam Anti-Judaism and 740 537 Early Christian Identity (1995) 189-195 and Murray Michele Playing a Jewish Game (2004), 139-141 776 See also Lightstone (1986) 129-32, EFroymson (1980) 25, Gager (1983) 20, Gager (1986) 104 777 Gager J. The Origins of Antisemitism (1983) 154 778 Simon M. Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman empire (1986) 117, 121. Also, my rewording of Taylor Miriam Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995) 195 779 Munck J. Paul and the Salvation of Mankind (1959) 70, 89, 124. 130-4, Gaston Lloyd Paul and the Torah (1987) 23-25 and Gager J. The Origins of Antisemitism (1983) 112-18, 132 780 Simon M. Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman empire (1986) 781 Wilken R. L. Judaism in Roman and Christian Society Journal of Religion (1967) 313 782 E.P. Sanders Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) 54-59 783 Klein Charlotte Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology (1978) 60 784 Gaston, Lloyd in Stephen G. Wilson, ed. Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, Vol.2 (1986) 163-174 785 Gaston Lloyd Paul and the Torah (1987) 18 786 Gager John G. Reinventing Paul (2000) 32 787 Ruether, R.R. Faith and Fratricide: The Theological Roots of Antisemitism (1974) 241 788 Gaston Lloyd Paul and the Torah (1987) 18 789 P. Sanders Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) 236 790 Gager John G. Reinventing Paul (2000) 47 791 Fredriksen Paula From Jesus to Christ (1988) 107-8 792 Wyschogrod Michael The impact of dialogue with Christianity on my self-understanding as a Jew (1990) 793 E.P. Sanders Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) 54 794 E.P. Sanders Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) 54-59 795 Gaston Lloyd Paul and the Torah (1987) 16 796 Fredriksen Paula From Jesus to Christ (1988) 104 797 Williamson Clark M. A Guest in the House of Israel (1993) 245-6 798 Dunn James D.G Christianity in the Making – Vol 1 - Jesus Remembered (2003) 88 799 Stephen Wilson, ed. Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity Vol. 2 (1986) 101, Kraabel Melito the Bishop and the Synagogue at Sardis: Text and Context in D.G. Mitten, J.G. Pedlen, J.A. Scott, eds. Studies Presented to George MA Hanfminn 197, 81, n. 25 per Taylor Miriam AntiJudaism and Early Christian Identity (1995) 55 800 Wilken Robert (Judaism and the Early Christian Mind, 1971, 36-37), Simon M. Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman empire (1986) 140. Similar critique in Taylor Miriam Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995) 124 09- Chapter 9 - Recapitulation In this subsection, we will concentrate on Mark, John, Barnabas, and Justin despite the fact that this theme reverberated throughout the lore. Mark, acknowledged by most as the Gospel on which the anti-Jewish strand stands, is of special interest to us. 802 See N. A. Beck, Mature Christianity: The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1994), 57–59. 803 The struggle between the Mushite and Aaronid priestly clans, the tensions between the tribal and monarchical power structures and between the monarchy and the religious establishment. 804 Philistines, Amalek, Edom, Moab. 801 538 805 Similar arguments in Kelber Werner, The Oral and the Written Gospel (1983), 130–131; and Lindsey P. Pherigo, ‘The Gospel According to Mark,’ in The Interpreter’s One Volume Commentary on the Bible (1971), 644. 806 In the context of the motifs enumerated later, the choice of Judas as the disciple that would betray Jesus, and the convenient fact that his name resonates with Iudaeos (‘Jews’) cease to be a coincidence and are suspect of being another of many hints at the tendentious nature of the narrative. Projection onto Judaism 807 Steve Mason, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories (2009), 298 808 Amy-Jill Levine The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus (2006). 809 Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, Kraft and Krodel; Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, vol. 2: History and Literature of Early Christianity; and Hennecke-Schneemelcher-Wilson, New Testament Apocrypha, 1.134–78, 5. 810 L. T. Johnson, The New Testament’s Anti-Jewish Slander and the Conventions of Ancient Polemic (1989), 419–441. Also See Anthony J. Blasi, Jean Duhaime, and Paul-Andre’ Turcotte, eds., Handbook of Early Christianity (2002), section 2, for a discussion of rhetorical techniques and their effectiveness. Also: Stanley E. Porter and Dennis L. Stamps, eds., The Rhetorical Interpretation of Scripture (1999); G. N. Stanton, Aspects of Early Christian-Jewish Polemic and Apologetic (1985). About Judaizing 811 See Michele Murray’s Playing a Jewish Game (2004) for an updated and detailed study on Gentile Judaizing. 812 Ibid., 40–41. 813 Ibid., 118–119. 814 For a survey of scholarship on this subject, see ibid., 141–148. See G. Strecker, in Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, Kraft and Krodel, 262; John G. Gager, The Origins of Antisemitism (1983), 115 and 132; Robert Wilken, John Chrisostom and the Jews (1983); Lloyd Gaston, ‘Retrospect,’ in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, Stephen G. Wilson, ed. (1986), 166; Studies in Christianity and Judaism, S. G. Wilson, ed., (1986), 33–44; Judith M. Lieu, Neither Jew nor Greek? Constructing Early Christianity (2003); Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 2. 815 From the perspective of non-Jewish believers in Jesus it may be said that Paul is defending his mission to the Gentiles. However, from a Jewish perspective Paul’s ministry was aimed at de-Judaizing Gentile Belief in Jesus. 816 On the meager evidence for Jewish proselytizing: Paula Fredriksen ‘What Parting of the Ways?’ In The Ways that Never Parted, (2003), 48–56; Miriam S. Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity: A Critique of the Scholarly Consensus (1995); Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 118–119; Martin Goodman, The Jews among Pagans and Christians: In the Roman Empire (1992), 53, 55, 70–71; T. Kraabel, The Roman Diaspora: Six questionable assumptions (1982), 451–452; David Rokeah, Jews, Pagans and Christians in Conflict (1982), 32–44; and I. Levinskaya, The Book of Acts in its First Century Setting. V. Diaspora Setting (1996), 21–47. For the opposite position: D. Georgi, The Opponents of Paul in Second 539 Corinthians (1986), 83–228; L. H. Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World (1993), 288– 415. Standing on Murray, Playing a Jewish Game, 118–119. 817 One of the earlies was M. Simon, Versus Israel-Jews and Christians in the Roman Empire, French ed. (1964), 356–393 esp. 383. 818 For support to the conclusion that Gentile believers in Jesus underwent a process of individuation-estrangement vis- à -vis the descendants of Jesus’ disciples and followers, and not ‘Judaism,’ see chapter 7 in this volume. An Elusive Response 819 For a recent survey, Peter Schäfer The Jewish Jesus: How Judaism and Christianity Shaped Each Other (2012); J. Lighthouse, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. in Wilson Stephen G., ed. Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. Vol. 2. Separation and Polemic.’ Studies in Christianity and Judaism (2000) 106; On the absence of anti-Christian polemic in the foundational texts of Rabbinic Judaism, see Eugene Fisher and L. Klenicki, eds., Root and Branches: Biblical Judaism, Rabbinical Judaism and Early Christianity (1987). 820 On the absence of anti-Christian polemic in the foundational texts of Rabbinic Judaism, see Eugene Fisher and L. Klenicki, eds., Root and Branches: Biblical Judaism, Rabbinical Judaism and Early Christianity (1987). 821 J. Lighthouse, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. in Wilson Stephen G., ed. Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity. Vol. 2. Separation and Polemic.’ Studies in Christianity and Judaism (2000) 106 822 For scholarship on Birkhat Haminim see pg. 415. 823 Jewish followers of Jesus were often labeled as ‘Jews’ by Gentile opponents within the Jesus movement. See Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, Kraft and Krodel; Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, vol. 2: History and Literature of Early Christianity; and Hennecke-Schneemelcher-Wilson, New Testament Apocrypha, 1.134–78, 5, as the earliest to identify this phenomenon. 824 Justin, Dial. 16, 17, 32, 34, 117, 131, 133, 136, 137, Irenaeus, Adv. Haer. 4.21.3, Cf. Mart. Pol. 13.2, 17.2, and 18.1, which tells of the Jews’ complicity in the death of Polycarp, Origen, Gen. Horn. 13.3. 825 For an advocate of this view see Philip S. Alexander Jewish Believers in Early Rabbinic Literature (2d to 5th Centuries), in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) Chap. 21, 659-710 who suggests that the early Rabbis developed an explicit strategy of not engaging Pauline or Jewish believers in Jesus. 826 27.1 Wilson, Related Strangers, 181. 827 Similar views in Wilken Robert John Chrisostom and the Jews, 1983, 72-73) 828 For bibliography on the myth of Jewish proselytizing see pg. 415. 829 ‘as long as the Judaizing movement continued, we may legitimately infer that proselytizing continued also…falling off of one, entailed the gradual disappearance of the other’ Simon M. (Versus Israel- Jews and Christians in the Roman Empire, 1996, 286) 830 Martin Goodman (The Jews among Pagans and Christians: In the Roman Empire, 1992, 53, 55, 70-71), McKnight, Scot (A Light Among the Gentiles: Jewish Missionary Activity in the Second Temple Period 1991). 831 Contra Bauckham Richard Opposition from the Jewish Authorities in Jerusalem in James and the Jerusalem Community in the History of Research in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 75-81 540 28. For traces in the pseudo-Clementine literature of a ‘Jewish-Christian’ response, see Bart Ehrman, Lost Christianities: The Battle for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew (2003), 182–185. 832 For a detailed discussion of this important issue see Bibliowicz Abel Mordechai JewishChristian Relations – The first Centuries (2017) 176-7 What If? 833 See Bart Ehrman‘s insightful development of this theme as it applies to our subject. Ehrman, Lost Christianities: The Battle for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew (2003) 834 Joseph Tyson, Marcion and Luke-Acts (2006), 131. 835 See Wilson, Related Strangers, 219–220. 836 Similar views in Tyson, Marcion and Luke-Acts, 131. 837 Taylor, Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity, 62–63. 10 The Post Constantine era For an updated guide to the subject: Klauck, Hans-Josef The Religious Context of Early Christianity: A Guide to Graeco-Roman Religion (2003) 839 Boys Mary C. Has God Only One Blessing? (2000) 167, 168 840 Further councils at Constantinople (381), Ephesus (431), and Chalcedon (451) were required to iron-out basic inconsistencies and paradoxes that originate in the fusion of incompatible theologies into the Via Media. 841 On the Jewish followers of Jesus during the post Constantine era: Bibliowicz Abel M. Jews and Gentiles in The Early Jesus Movement (2013) pg. 167-179; Gager, John G. Did Jewish Christians See the Rise of Islam?’ in The Ways that Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages. Edited by A. H. Becker and A. Y. Reed (2003) 361-72; Mimouni, Simon C Les elkasaites: etats des questions et des recherches in The Image of the Judaeo-Christians in the Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature. Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003) 209-29; Tomson P. J. and Lambers-Petry D. The Image of the JudaeoChristians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature (2003); Jones F. Stanley An Ancient Jewish Christian Source on the History of Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.2771. Christian Apocrypha Series 2 (1995); Baumgarten, Albert I. Literary Evidence for Jewish Christianity in the Galilee in The Galilee in Late Antiquity. Edited by Lee I. Levine (1992) 3950; Segal Alan F. Jewish Christianity in Eusebius, Christianity, and Judaism Edited by W. Attridge and Gohei Hata (1987) 327-51; Klijn A. F. J. Jewish Christianity in Egypt in The Roots of Egyptian Christianity Edited by B. A. Pearson and J. E. Goehring. Studies in Antiquity and Christianity (1986) 161-75; Schoedel William R Jewish Christianity: Factional Disputes in the Early Church (1969); For a general bibliography on the Jewish followers of Jesus see pg. 415; 842 Sanders E.P. Paul and Palestinian Judaism (1977) 236 843 Eugene Fisher in private correspondence 2017. 844 See Skarsaune Oskar The Ebionites in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 419-463; Kinzig Wolfram The Nazoraeans in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 463-488; afHällström Gunnar Cerinthus, Elxai, Elkesaites, and Sampseans in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 488-505; Skarsaune Oskar Jewish Christian Traditions in Origen in Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries eds. Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 361-373; Knox John The Origin of 838 541 the Ebionites in The Image of the JudaeoChristians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature Edited by P. J. Tomson and D. Lambers-Petry (2003) 162-81; 845 See Fredriksen Paula From Jesus to Christ (1988) 211-13 846 Standing on Taylor Miriam Anti-Judaism and Early Christian Identity (1995) 99 847 For a rather benign view of the Contra Iudaeos literature see Lahey Lawrence The Role of Contra Iudaeos Literature in Christian-Jewish Interaction Jewish believers in Jesus: the early centuries Skarsaune Oskar and Hvalvik Reidar (2007) 620-637. Earlier scholarship: A. Hansen, The Sitz im Leben of the Paschal Homily of Melito of Sardis (1968) 180; K. W. Noakes, Melito of Sardis and the Jews (1975), 246; S. G. Wilson, ed., Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, vol. 2, 95–100; and David Satran in Contra Iudaeos, Ora Limor, Maurice R. Hayoun, and Guy G. Stroumsa, eds., (1996), 49–58; Limor Ora, Maurice R. Hayoun, Guy G. Stroumsa eds. Contra Iudaeos (1996) 848 Segment stands on Wilken Robert John Chrysostom and the Jews (1983) 128-129 849 J. D. Crossan Who Killed Jesus (1995) XII 850 Boys Mary C. Has God Only One Blessing? (2000) 58, Stroumsa G.G. Contra ludaeos (1996) 18 11 The responsibility for Jesus’ death 851 A selection of scholarship: Crossan J. D. Who Killed Jesus (1957) 59; Fitzmyer J. A. Antisemitism and the Cry of 'All the People’ TS 26 (1965) 670-71; Crossan J. D. in G. G. O'Collins Antisemitism in the Gospel TS 26 (1965) 663-66; Kosmala H. His Blood on Us and Our Children (The Background of Mat. 27, 24-25)’ ASTI 7 (1970) 94-126; Hare Douglas The Rejection of the Jews in Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity (1979) 22-25; Richardson Peter David Granskou, Stephen G. Wilson Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity: Paul and the Gospels: Volume 1 (1986), Kingsbury J. D. Matthew as Star (1988) 56-57; P. L. Maier Who Killed Jesus? Christianity Today 34/6 (1990) 16-19; Luedemannn, Gerd The Unholy in Holy Scripture (1997) 97-98; Allison Dale Jesus of Nazareth: Millenarian Prophet (1991); Brown Raymond E. The Death of the Messiah (1994). Yarbro Collins Adela and John J. Collins King and Messiah as Son of God Divine, Human, and Angelic Messianic Figures in Biblical and Related Literature (2008); Collins John J. The Scepter and the Star - Messianism in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2010); Simmonds Andrew Mark's and Matthew's ‘Sub Rosa’ Message in the Scene of Pilate and the Crowd JBL Vol. 131, No. 4 (2012) 733-754; 852 As understood by his followers, whether reflective or not of his intended message. 853 Goodman Martin The Ruling Class of Judaea: The Origins of the Jewish Revolt against Rome A.D. 66-70 (1987); Cohen, Shaye J. D. From the Maccabees to the Mishnah (1987) 854 See Wilson Stephen G. Related Strangers: Jews and Christians (1995) 174-5. Similar views in Dunn James D.G Christianity in the Making – Vol 1 - Jesus Remembered (2003) 86 and 784, and Van Buren, Paul M. A Christian Theology of the People of Israel (1983) 244. Also J. D. Crossan Who Killed Jesus (1957) 59, Williamson Clark M. A Guest in the House of Israel (1993) 60-1, Luedemannn, Gerd The Unholy in Holy Scripture (1997) 97-98. For the historical Pilate see Schiirer 1973: 383-7, Lemonon 1981. 855 Ruether R.R. Faith and Fraticide: The Theological Roots of Antisemitism (1974) 856 For a conservative response to Ruether’s book see T.A. Indinopulos and R.B. Ward Is Christology inherently anti-Semitic? (1977) 196-214 857 Ruether R.R in Davies, A.T. Ed. Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity (1979) 248-256 542 858 Beck N.A.Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1994) 859 J. D. Crossan Who Killed Jesus (1957) 252 860 Hagner, D. A. The Jewish Reclamation of Jesus (1984) 290 861 Lloyd Gaston Studies in Christianity and Judaism S.G. Wilson ed, (1986) 33 862 See Documents of Vatican II, ed. Austin P Flannery (1975) 741. Fisher Eugene J. The Church's Teaching on Supersessionism BAR 17 (1991) 58. Breidenthal Thomas NeighborChristology: Reconstructing Christianity Before Supersessionism Cross Currents 49, (1999) 319 n.1 863 B. Layton, The Rediscovery of Gnosticism (1980); Elaine Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels (1943). On cross-influence among Judaism, Christianity, and Gnosticism, see Alan F. Segal, in Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity, S. G. Wilson, ed. (1986), 133–162; Jonas Hans, The Gnostic Religion (1958). 12-Consequences Knohl Israel The Messiah before Jesus: The Suffering Servant of the Dead Sea Scrolls (2000) 865 http://global100.adl.org and http://www.adl.org/anti_semitism/European_Attitudes_Survey_July_2007.pdf 864 866 Alternatively insert Austrian, Belgian, Bulgarian, Greek, Hungarian, Italian, Polish, Rumanian, Yugoslavian, etc.… 867 See Gager John G. The origins of Antisemitism (1983) 82, Gager John G. Attitudes Toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian Antiquity (1985) 43. On the impact of Hellenism on turn of the century Judea see Smith Morton Palestinian Parties and Politics That Shaped the Old Testament (1971) 56-81 and Collins John J. and Sterling Gregory R. eds., Hellenism in the Land of Israel (2001) 150-160 868 For a short survey of scholarship on Antisemitism see Stroumsa G.G. Contra ludaeos (1996) 10-16 869 Luther Martin, Trans Martin H. Bertram On the Jews and Their Lies (1543) chap XI 13-The present and the future Paradigmatic – see Kuhn Thomas The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1970) 871 Schneiders Sandra M. Living Word or Dead(ly) Letter in Crowley Paul ed. (Proceedings of the Catholic Theological Society of America 47,1988) 872 The subtitle to Beck Norman A. Mature Christianity in the 21st Century (1994) 873 Eugene Fisher in private correspondence 2017. 874 Williamson Clark M. A Guest in the House of Israel (1993) 46-7 875 Klein, Charlotte Anti-Judaism in Christian Theology (1975) 10-11 876 Niebuhr Reinhold Jews after the war (1942) 877 Roy Eckardt Christians and Jews (1979) 878 Littell Frank H. The Crucifixion of the Jews (1975 & 1986) 879 Littell Frank H. The Crucifixion of the Jews (1975 & 1986) 880 For the abandonment of Christian supersessionism and the recognition of Judaism as a valid path to God, see Van Buren, Paul M. According to the Scriptures (1998) 130-135 881 Van Buren, Paul M. Christ in Context (1988) 164 870 543 882 Norman A. Beck The New Testament: A New Translation and Redaction (Lima, Ohio: Fairway Press, 2001) which is designed to reduce or remove the anti-Jewish and sexist aspects of the New Testament. 883 Beck N.A. Mature Christianity, The Recognition and Repudiation of the Anti-Jewish Polemic of the New Testament (1985) 285 884 Hagner D. A. The Jewish Reclamation of Jesus (1984) 301-2 885 Williamson Clark M. A Guest in the House of Israel (1993) 46-7 886 R.R. Ruether in Davies A.T. Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity (1979) 230 887 Gaston Lloyd Paul and the Torah (1987) 15 888 Gager John G. Attitudes Toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian Antiquity (1985) 889 Paul M. van Buren Discerning the Way: A Theology of the Jewish-Christian Reality (1980) 48 890 Davies A.T. Antisemitism and the Foundations of Christianity (1979) Introduction 891 Anti-Defamation League statement February 23, 2004. 892 Boys Mary C. Has God Only One Blessing? (2000) 248 893 M. Simon, Versus Israel-Jews and Christians in the Roman Empire (1986) 894 For a recent call for ethically sensitive readings of the Gospels in Amy-Jill Levine in AmyJill Levine, Dale C. Allison Jr., and John Dominic Crossan, eds., The Historical Jesus in Context (2006) 2, 9. 895 Gager John in Fisher Eugene Interwoven Destinies: Jews and Christians Through the Ages (1993) 896 E. Fisher in private correspondence 2017. 544