Studies in Rabbinic Judaism and Early Christianity Christianity
Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antiken Judentums Judentums und und des Urchristentums
Founding Editor
Martin Hengel† (übingen) (übingen) Executive Editors
Cilliers Breytenbach (Berlin) Martin Goodman Goo dman (Oxord) Editorial Board
Friedrich Avemarie (Marburg), John Barclay (Durham), Pieter W. van der Horst (Utrecht), al al Ilan I lan (Berlin) (B erlin),, essa Rajak (Reading), Daniel R. Schwartz ( Jerusalem), Seth Schwartz (New York)
VOLUME 74
Studies in Rabbinic Judaism and Early Christianity ext and Context
Edited by
Dan Jaffé
LEIDEN • BOSON 2010
Tis book is printed on acid-ree paper. Detailed Library o Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Studies in rabbinic Judaism and early Christianity : text and context / edited by Dan Jaffe. p. cm. — (Ancient Judaism and early Christianity, ISSN 1871-6636 ; v. 74) Essays in English or French. “Tis volume emerged rom the symposium held at Paris in March 2007 on the theme ‘Rome, Athens or Jerusalem. Where does Christianity come rom?’ under the auspices o the Alliance Israelite Universelle” — Introd. Includes bibliographical reerences and indexes. ISBN 978-90-04-18410-7 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Christianity—Origin— Congresses. 2. Christianity and other religions—Judaism—Congresses. 3. Judaism—Relations—Christianity—Congresses. 4. Christianity and other religions— Roman—Congresses. 5. Rome—Religion—Congresses. I. Jaffé, Dan, 1970- II. Alliance israélite universelle. III. itle. IV. Series. BR129.S82 2010 296.3’9609015—dc22 2010007554
ISSN 1871-6636 ISBN 978 90 04 18410 7 Copyright 2010 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, Te Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints BRILL, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part o this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any orm or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission rom the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items or internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate ees are paid directly to Te Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. ������� �� ��� �����������
CONENS Introduction .............................. ............................................. .............................. .............................. ........................... ............ Dan Jaffé List o Contributors ...................... ..................................... .............................. .............................. ...................... .......
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HE HISORICAL JESUS La Quête du Jésus de l’histoire et la judaïcité de Jésus ................. ................. Daniel Marguerat
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Jésus le Nazaréen « ondateur » ou « rénovateur » ? .................... .................... François Blanchetière
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JEWISH�CHRISIANS IN RABBINIC LIERAURE “In Nehardea Tere are No Heretics” : Te Purported Jewish Response to Christianity in Nehardea (A Re-Examination o the almudic Evidence) ................................. ................................................ ......................... .......... Barak S. Cohen Représentations et attraits du christianisme dans les sources talmudiques. Proposition d’un nouveau paradigme ............... Dan Jaffé “Te Lord Shall Lif up His Countenance upon You” (Numbers 6:26)—An anti-Christian Polemical Midrash by the Sages? .............................. ............................................. .............................. .............................. ........................... ............ Avinoam Cohen
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JEWISH ORIGINS OF CHRISIANIY On the Jewish Background o Christianity ............................. .................................... ....... Daniel R. Schwartz
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Te Jewish-Christian’s Move rom Jerusalem as a Pragmatic Choice ............................. ............................................ ............................. ............................. .............................. .................... ..... Jonathan Bourgel
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Te emple in Mark. A Case Study about the Early Christian Attitude toward the emple ............................. ............................................ ........................... ............ Eyal Regev
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PAGANISM AND ORIGINS OF CHRISIANIY Quelques ré�exions historiques sur les origines païennes présumées du christianisme primiti ............................. ......................................... ............ Emmanuel Friedheim Jewish-Christian Contacts in the Second and Tird Centuries C.E.? Te Case o Carthage ertullian and the Mishnah’s Views on Idolatry .................... ................................... ............................. ............................. ......................... .......... Stéphanie E. Binder Index o Ancient Sources ............................ ........................................... .............................. ...................... ....... Index o Ancient Names ............................. ............................................ .............................. ...................... ....... Index o Modern Names ............................. ............................................ .............................. ...................... .......
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INRODUCION Tis volume emerged rom the symposium held at Paris in March 2007 on the theme “Rome, Athens or Jerusalem. Where does Christianity Come From?” under the auspices o the Collège des Etudes Juives (Alliance Israélite Universelle) and jointly organized by Proessor Shmuel rigano (Paris X-Nanterre University, Paris) and Doctor Dan Jaffé (Bar-Ilan University, Israel). Te main purpose o this symposium was to outline the origins o Christianity, taking a variety o parameters into consideration. o this end, it has been proposed to establish the conceptual and historical oundations o primitive Christianity and to shed light upon the society in which the �rst Christians appeared. Initially we place Jesus in the society o his time (contributions o Daniel Marguerat and o François Blanchetière); we then analyze reerences to the �rst Christians in almudic literature (contributions o Barak Cohen, o Avinoam Cohen and o Dan Jaffé); we then proceed to an examination o the attitude o early Christianity toward the emple o Jerusalem (contribution o Eyal Regev). Aferward we offer a general de�nition o the Jewish context in which Christianity took shape (contributions o Daniel R. Schwartz and o Jonathan Bourgel) and ask whether early Christianity was in�uenced by concepts and belies rom the pagan world (Emmanuel Friedheim). Finally weshed light on the Partings of the Ways between Jews and Christians (contribution o Stéphanie E. Binder). François Blanchetière surveys the undamental issue o the innovative aspects o the Nazarene belies in relation to Judaism. Tis question has led him to wonder whether Jesus is to be seen as a “ounder” or as a “reormer”. Arguing that “Judaism and polytheism ound innovation in religion (in the modern sens) viscerally repugnant” and that the �rst Christians did not advocate the abandonment o Jewish precepts, he concludes that Jesus cannot be considered as a “ounder”. Blanchetière preers to describe Jesus as a “reormer.” He writes: “All things considered, the expression Jesus expression Jesus founder of a new religion turns religion turns out to be an assemblage o concepts with no real historical justi�cation.” Blanchetière does concede, though, that the Nazarene stream reers to a religious movement o Semitic character within the Judaism o the �rst decades o the Common Era.
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Daniel Marguerat discusses the results o the “third quest” or the historical Jesus, which correctly emphasizes the Jewishness o Jesus. But or him, this view vi ew must include the singularity o the emergence o Jesus within �rst century Judaism. Herein would lie the answer to the riddle o the transormation o the message o Jesus, which was initially Jewish, into a universal religious appeal. Although Jesus must be understood as belonging integrally to the Judaism o his time, he bore with him the seeds o the uture split. Marguerat has highlighted three characteristics peculiar to the teaching o Jesus: the radicalness o the imperative to love, which can invalidate strong prescriptions o the orah; an offensive conception o purity in opposition to the deensive conception o purity that was widespread in Judaism o the time; the eschatological emergency illustrated by an ethical approach, which put the observance o the law into a relative perspective. Marguerat concludes that the �gure o Jesus cannot be assigned to any particular variety o the Judaism o his time. He evokes a transcendant dimension, which makes him very singular. Te second part o the book opens with the contribution o Barak Cohen dealing with the question o possible Jewish-Christian contacts in Nehardea during the Sasanian Period. Historians o the rabbinic period have identi�ed some remarks made by prominent Babylonian Nehardean rabbis rom the Sasanian period as being aimed at Christians currently active in their region. r egion. In contrast, Cohen’s analysis o the passages in which these remarks are embedded raises doubts as to the accuracy o these claims. Cohen argues that there is no evidence in the Bavli that Nehardean Nehar dean sages had any direct contact with Christians or were amiliar with Christian daily practice. Tis conclusion concurs with the inormation provided in Christian chronicles regarding the spread (or ailure to spread) o Christianity in Nehardea, Pumbedita and the surrounding areas during the talmudic period (third–�fh centuries C.E.). Te absence o Christians in this region during the talmudic period is urther corroborated by a statement in B Pesahim 56a, according to which there were no heretics, Christians or otherwise, in Nehardea during the amoraic period. Cohen concludes that, in order to draw a reliable picture o the historical situation in Sasanian Babylonia, each geographical area should be studied per studied per se. Dan Jaffé deals with the expressions o the attractions o Christianity and its representation in almudic sources. He offers a new paradigm to think o these notions, basing his argument upon the text o osefa Hulin II, 24, which is regarded as a locus classicus in the study o the relations between Jewish-Christians and annaim.
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In light o his analysis, Dan Jaffé contends that this passage attests: 1) to the attraction maniested by R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus to the teaching o Jesus; 2) to a desire to expel the Jewish-Christians rom the Jewish community, which was undergoing a process o socio-historical normalization; 3) to an effort to create a norm orbidding Jews to study or to receive the teaching o the Jewish ollowers o Jesus; and, �nally, 4) to a time o high tension illustrated by the deterioration o the relations between annaim and Jewish-Christians. Te representation o Christianity in the almudic sources is re�ected in the teaching attributed to the Jewish-Christians. Te later editors o min o osefa Hulin II, 24, not only the almud identiy Jacob, the min as a ollower o Jesus but more generally as a symbol representative o Christianity. Tey correlate his teaching with prostitution, which in almudic thought, suggests deviance and aberration. Furthermore, prostitution represents the archetype o illicit attraction, and as such it is placed on an equal ooting with Christianity, which exerts a baneul in�uence on the Jewish community. Avinoam Cohen explores the ostensibly contradictory meaning o cohanim and their two biblical verses (Nb 6:26; Dt 10:17) about birkat cohanim and interpretations in the midrashic literature. He highlights the way the classic Jewish exegetes tried to resolve this contradiction and explains that the Sages S ages presented a deensive position. Te context o the exegetical debate in which these verses are quoted is essential or understanding the deep purpose o the Sages. According to Cohen, their intent was to polemicize against the �rst Christians, who minim in the almudic are reerred to as minim in a lmudic literature. Cohen connects this controversy to an older Palestinian tradition rom the period o Yavneh, which is recorded in the Babylonian Bab ylonian almud. Tis makes absolute sense when we consider that it was precisely at Yavneh, under the leadership o Rabban Gamaliel, that the Palestinian Jewish community closed in on itsel and rigidly opposed doctrinal dissent. Now, it appears a ppears that the main dissenters to the Sages were the Jewish-Christians. Cohen argues that the intense rabbinic occupation with the supposed contradiction between these two verses began in Yavneh as a result o their theological debate with the minim (mainly, minim (mainly, early Christians), who claimed that the crisis in Judaism was proo that God had abandoned Israel. Te third part o this volume on the origins o Christianity opens with the study by Daniel R. Schwartz. Schwartz deals with the Jewish origins o Christianity by relating to ethnic and historical considerations
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regarding Jewish identity. According to Schwartz, Jews have historically been identi�ed on the basis o their place o origin and residence, their ancestry, and their religious affiliation, and, in antiquity, each o these was most prominent in a different period. Te topos marked topos marked Jewish identity in the course o the First emple period, during which territorial attachment was o considerable importance—but the basis or that disappeared with the dispersion o the Israelite states and with the creation o the Diaspora. Te criterion o ancestry was most dominant in the next period o Jewish history, under Persian domination—a criterion illustrated by Ezra and Nehemiah, who haqodesh (“holy seed”) as a condition sine considered the notion o zera haqodesh (“holy qua non or non or Jewish identity, and by the prominence o the priesthood— de�ned by its pedigree—in this period. With Alexander the Great and the advent o Hellenism, however, the idea o cultural affiliation became the primary marker o identity. Just as one could be Greek without living in Greece and without being o Greek descent, i one’s language and culture were Greek, so too could one be a Jew i one adhered to Jewish culture—Judaism. It is to this period that the roots o Christianity are to be traced, and Schwartz indeed argues that the Jewish background rom which Christianity emerged must be situated in this universalistic context. In this respect, Paul o arsus, who grew up in the Hellenized Diaspora, is to be understood as having undercut the signi�cance o Jewish place and Jewish descent, just as he did or the legal component o Jewish culture. In doing so, however, he matched moves already made by the Qumran community, mutatis mutandis—the mutandis—the community that provides the background or understanding the appearance o John the Baptist. According to Schwartz, Jesus should basically be understood as having had quite a different orientation: an anti-Roman political agenda preaching Davidic messianism and the coming restoration o the Kingdom o Israel. When that movement ailed, although, as Jesus’ ollowers believed, he was nonetheless vindicated by resurrection, he became available to serve in the individualistic and universalistic agendas that were the ocus o the John and Paul types, and the result was Christianity. Jonathan Bourgel deals with the Jewish Christian community o Jerusalem and the patristic tradition o the �ight to Pella during the Great Revolt against the Romans. Tis episode has been the subject o intense debate in modern scholarship; the disagreement in this discussion con-
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cerns both the reliability o this tradition and its signi�cance or the historiography o Jewish-Christianity in the post-apostolic period. Bourgel considers that, to be interpreted correctly, this tradition must be situated in the speci�c political context o the Jewish revolt against Rome. In his opinion, there is reason to presume that the �ight to Pella was a desertion or even a surrender—an attitude that was strongly encouraged by the Roman armies. Tis approach echoes the amous thesis deended by Gedaliah Alon a ew decades ago, according to which R. Yohanan ben Zakaï was a Jewish prisoner in the hands o the Romans, not a Jewish deserter rom the cause o the revolt. Tese pertinent remarks point out to an interesting correlation between the conduct o the Jewish-Christian communities and the military policy o the Romans. Did the Jewish-Christians deliberately choose Pella as a place o residence or, as captives, were they orced to settle there by the Roman authorities? Bourgel reconstructs the course o events o the Jewish Christians’ move rom Jerusalem and argues that their transer to Pella and settlement there were supervised by the Roman armies. It is likely that their removal occurred in the late spring o 68 C.E. as the legions o Vespasian advanced in the vicinity o Jerusalem and numerous Jews �ed rom the city to surrender to the Roman authorities. Furthermore, Bourgel thinks that, like other Jewish prisoners who surrendered to the Roman orces, the Jewish-Christians negotiated the terms o their surrender. We note lastly that the author re�ects a historiographical trend, according to which the �ight to Pella by no means marked a watershed in the relations between Jews and Jewish Christians. Te third part o this volume ends with the study o Eyal Regev on the attitude o the gospel o Mark toward the emple in Jerusalem. Unlike many critics, Regev maintains that Jesus elt no acrimony toward the Jewish sanctuary but protested against the exchange o money, which he considered unclean, since it was corrupted by the sins o the people. Tus, Jesus was not criticizing the institution o the emple but rather the use o money within its compound. In this case, Regev stresses that the gospels do not identiy with Jesus’ amous attack against the emple (destruction and reconstruction within three days), which raises questions about the attitude o the historical Jesus to the emple. According to Regev, there are two ways to solve this riddle: either 1) Jesus actually made a speech against the emple, but it was less radical than that which was later attributed to him, or
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2) the Jesus’ opponents considered the “cleansing” o the emple to be a threat although this was not his original intention. Nevertheless, it is likely that Jesus did express some criticism o the sanctuary o Jerusalem. In the same spirit, Regev considers that the attitude toward the Jewish law is generally positive in the gospel o Mark despite some criticism against it in light o the revelation o Jesus. Te Gospel o Mark is depicted as mixture o Jewish and non-Jewish Christianity. However, as Regev observes, its non-Jewish aspects do not necessarily imply a rejection o its Jewish aspects. Te ourth part o the volume ends with the studies o Emmanuel Friedheim and o Stéphanie E. Binder. Friedheim addresses the question o the pagan origins o Christianity, arguing that in the course o the second century pagan belies and cults were deep actors o in�uence on Christianity, while a signi�cant wave o conversion rom polytheism to Christianity occurred. What can be said about these actors o in�uence or the period spanning Jesus lietime and extending to 70 C.E.? Although the Gospel o John maniests Hellenization in some o his speeches, the Jewish heritage remains �rmly anchored there. Pagan in�uence was minimal in primitive Christianity, because o the clearly negative attitude a ttitude o Jesus and o the whole Jewish society towards paganism. Moving rom textual analysis to methodical historiography, Friedheim explains that the (alleged) pagan in�uences on primitive Christianity must be considered within the wider context o the pagan in�uences on the pre-70 Jewish world. As he shows, toward the end o the Second emple period Jews were extremely radical in opposition to pagan cults and images and rejected paganism completely. Hence, Friedheim concludes: “Agreeing with the thesis o Flusser on the undamentally Jewish origins o primitive Christianity, we could not have detected any pagan in�uence inevitably echoed in the synoptics that was not similarly anchored in contemporary Judaism stemming rom the pharisee or the essenian movements and even rom the JudeoHellenistic conceptual world o Philo o Alexandria.” In the �nal article, Stéphanie Binder surveys the existence and nature o the connections that may have existed between Jews and Christians at the end o second and the beginning o the third century C.E. within the ramework o discussions on what has been termed the parting o the ways between Jews and Christians. At issue is the question whether Jews and Christians were different and separate rom each other or
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similar and intermingled at this time. o address this question, Binder examines the similarities between two texts on idolatry—De idolatry—De Idololatria by the Carthaginian Church ather ertullian and the roughly contemZarah, committed to writing in Palestine. poraneous Mishnah poraneous Mishnah Avodah Zarah, Tese works were composed to guide Christians and Jews respectively in living their lives o truth in the same idolatrous environment. Afer a discussion o the origins o the Christian community o Carthage, Binder shows that the Carthaginian Jews and the Palestinian rabbis could very well have been in contact. She then displays some o resemblances and differences between the approaches to idolatry o the rabVia the bis and o the Church ather and attempts to account or them. Via the explanations o the nuances between both texts on idolatry, she reaches the issue o active Jewish proselytism which, she argues, was internally oriented in Carthage and aimed at protecting Jews and prospective Jews already engaged within the Jewish community rom the seduction o the Christian mission, which was still present among the Jews. Binder concludes that the Jewish and Christian communities in Carthage had to have been in contact and that they must have inspired or in�uenced one another, which raises the question o other places and times where and when both communities were in contact. Dan Jaffé Bar-Ilan University, 10 November 2009
LIS OF CONRIBUORS Stéphanie E. Binder, Lecturer, Te Department o Classical Studies, BarIlan University. Te Memorial Foundation or Jewish Culture ellow. François Blanchetière, Proessor Emeritus, Emeritus, Université o Strasbourg, France. Jonathan Bourgel, Post-Doctoral Candidate at el-Aviv University and Yad-Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, Jerusalem. Avinoam Cohen, Proessor, Department o almud, Bar-Ilan University. Barak S. Cohen, Lecturer, Department o almud, Bar-Ilan University. Emmanuel Friedheim, Senior Lecturer, Te Israel and Golda Koschitzky Department o Jewish History, Bar-Ilan University. Dan Jaffé, Lecturer, Center or Basic Jewish Studies, Bar-Ilan University and Ashkelon Academic College. Daniel Marguerat, Proessor, University o Lausanne, Faculty o Teology and Sciences o Religions, Switzerland. Eyal Regev, Proessor, Department o Land o Israel and Archaeology, Bar-Ilan University. Daniel R. Schwartz, Proessor, Department o History o the Jewish People, Te Hebrew University o Jerusalem.
HE HISORICAL JESUS
LA QUÊE DU JÉSUS DE L’HISOIRE E LA JUDAÏCIÉ DE JÉSUS Daniel Marguerat Mon entrée dans la thématique de ce colloque est aussi précise que limitée. Elle se focalise sur la question de la judaïcité de Jésus de Nazareth telle qu’elle est évaluée et prise en compte dans la Quête du Jésus de l’histoire. Ce que l’on entend par « Quête du Jésus de l’histoire (ou du Jésus historique) » est la recherche scienti�que ayant pour visée de reconstruire la vie de Jésus sur des bases documentaires neutres. La neutralité invoquée ici s’oppose soit à l’intervention d’une idéologie, croyante ou sceptique (qui modi�e les données historiques), soit aux méfaits du temps (qui altère la mémoire des témoins). Il s’agit donc de remonter en deçà des textes évangéliques, qui sont le miroir des témoignages des premiers chrétiens, pour reconstruire avec une objectivité maximale les faits et gestes du Nazaréen 1. La visée de la Quête du Jésus historique n’est pas nouvelle. Elle a débuté avec Hermann Samuel Reimarus à la �n du XVIII e siècle. Les historiens de la recherche distinguent trois phases successives. Une première Quête dite libérale, qui couvre le XIX e siècle, s’est illustrée par les noms de David Strauss, Heinrich Paulus et Ernest Renan ; le registre de pensée est rationaliste, les évangiles étant considérés comme des textes à démythologiser et à purger de tout élément surnaturel ; en revanche, Jésus, en tant que �gure originale de la spiritualité humaine, fascine2. La deuxième Quête va de 1900 à 1980, avec Johannes Weiss, Ernst Käsemann, Günter Bornkamm, Gerhard Ebeling, Joachim Jeremias, James Robinson, Etienne rocmé, Charles Perrot. La reconstruction de la vie de Jésus s’opère avec plus de prudence et de méthode, Le lecteur désireux de connaître connaître les modalités, les outils méthodologiques et les principaux résultats de cette recherche peut se référer à ma contribution : « Jésus de Nazareth », in : Histoire du christianisme, christianisme, J.-M. M�����, Ch. et L. P�����, A. V������, M. V�����, éds, tome I : Le nouveau peuple (des origines à 250), Paris, 250), Paris, Desclée, 2000, p. 7–58. 2 Voir Charles P�����, « La quête historique de Jésus du XVIII e siècle au début du XXe siècle », RSR 87, 1999, p. 353–372, repris in : Pierre G����� et Christoph �������, éds, Le cas Jésus Christ. Exégètes, historiens et théologiens en conrontation, conrontation, Paris, Bayard, 2002, p. 47–74. 1
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compte tenu de l’écart reconnu entre l’orientation croyante des textes évangéliques et les données de l’histoire. L’importance reconnue au concept de règne de Dieu dans la prédication de Jésus et la compréhension foncièrement eschatologique de sa venue domine les travaux de ces savants3. Dès les années 1980, une nébuleuse de chercheurs a été baptisée de l’appellation « troisième Quête », et c’est d’elle que j’ai l’intention de discuter les résultats 4. Cette nébuleuse comprend essentiellement des chercheurs anglosaxons : Ed P. Sanders, John Dominic Crossan, Marcus J. Borg, Richard A. Horsley, James D. G. Dunn 5. Quelques Allemands l’étoffent : Gerd Teissen et Wolfgang Stegemann6. Les résultats de leurs travaux sont divergents : ils vont d’un Jésus apocalypticien, proclamant le crépuscule du monde avant l’avènement du Règne divin (Sanders), à un Jésus asocial et provocateur arpentant la Galilée à la façon d’un philosophe cynique (Crossan). Certains le voient en guérisseur charismatique (Borg), d’autres en révolutionnaire paci�que prônant un égalitarisme
Voir Jacques S��������, « Le débat de Käsemann et de Bultmann à propos du Jésus de l’histoire », RSR 87, 1999, p. 373–395, repris in : Pierre G����� et Christoph �������, éds, Le cas Jésus Christ. Exégètes, historiens et théologiens en conrontation, conrontation , Paris, Bayard, 2002, p. 75–103. 4 Pour une présentation exhaustive des travaux de la troisième Quête, voir mon article : « La troisième quête du Jésus de l’histoire », RSR 87, RSR 87, 1999 p. 397–421, repris in : Daniel M��������, L’aube du christianisme, christianisme, Paris/Genève, Bayard, Labor et Fides, 2008, p. 111–136. L’appellation « third Quest », proposée par N. Tomas Wright, a été popularisée par Marcus J. B��� dans un article de 1991 repris dans son Jesus in Contemporary Scholarship, Scholarship, Valley Forge, rinity Press, 1994, p. 18 ; elle s’applique aux recherches d’une constellation de chercheurs dont les parutions s’échelonnent à partir de 1980. 5 Ed P. S������, Jesus and Judaism, Judaism, Philadelphia, Fortress, 1985 ; John Dominic C������, Te Historical Jesus. Te Lie o a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant , San Francisco, HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 (un résumé et une justi�cation des thèses a été publiée par l’auteur sous le titre : Jesus. A Revolutionary Biography , San Francisco, HarperSanFrancisco, HarperSanFrancisco, 1994) ; Marcus J. B���, Jesus, B���, Jesus, A New Vision, Vision, San Francisco, Harper and Row, 1987 ; Richard A. H������, John S. H�����, Bandits, Prophets, Messiahs. Popular Movements o the ime o Jesus, Jesus, Minneapolis, Fortress, 1985 ; Richard A. H������, Jesus H������, Jesus and the Spiral o Violence, Violence, San Francisco, HarperSanFrancisco, 1987 ; James D. G. D���, Christianity in the Making I : Jesus Remembered , Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2003. 6 Gerd �������, L’Ombre du Galiléen, Galiléen, Paris, Cerf, 1988 ; Gerd ������� et Annette M���, Der historische Jesus. Ein Lehrbuch, Lehrbuch , Göttingen, Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1996 ; Gerd �������, Annette M���, éds, Jesus als historische Gestalt. Beiträge zur (FRLAN 202), Göttingen, Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 2003. Ekke Jesusorschung (FRLAN hard W. S�������� et Wolfgang S��������, Urchristliche Sozialgeschichte : Die Anänge im Judentum und die Christusgemeinden in der mediterranen Welt , Stuttgart, Kohlhammer, 1995. 3
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social (Horsley). Néanmoins, toutes ces esquisses consonnent sur un point, celui qui m’intéresse ici : la judaïcité de Jésus. La recherche conduite depuis 1980 a fait basculer les convictions antérieures des chercheurs et re-immergé l’homme de Nazareth dans la culture juive palestinienne du second emple. La deuxième Quête du Jésus historique, pour faire court, opposait à un judaïsme légaliste, rigoriste, rigoriste, étriqué et tatillon, un Jésus vu comme le héros libre d’une religion du cœur. Elle s’accordait à penser que Jésus avait substitué à l’argutie juridique de la halakah une religion de l’intériorité et une morale de l’intention. Or, cette image a volé en éclats sous la pression de nouvelles études conduites sur le judaïsme du second emple. Il est apparu qu’avant la catastrophe de 70 – car cette date marque un tournant décisif dans le destin du judaïsme, avec l’avènement d’une orthodoxie sous dominance pharisienne – le judaïsme a vécu d’une diversité, d’un fourmillement de tendances, d’une pluralité reconnue et acceptée. Le judaïsme du second emple arborait un degré poussé de sectarisation, dans lequel le rapport à la orah et au emple assume entre les diverses factions un rôle identitaire. Dans l’avènement de cette nouvelle image d’un judaïsme pluriel au temps de Jésus, l’exploitation des manuscrits de Qumrân a joué un rôle tout aussi décisif que la mise au jour d’une hellénisation poussée de la Palestine à la période gréco-romaine 7. L’apport d’érudits juifs tels que Jacob Neusner, Geza Vermès, David Flusser et Pinhas Lapide nous a offert un regard plus �n sur la littérature rabbinique. Le résultat fut de faire émerger une image de Jésus où les con�its – indéniables – avec ses contemporains ne sont pas interprétés comme des con�its du judaïsme. avec le judaïsme, mais des con�its à l’intérieur du U� ����� ������� Le maître à penser est ici Ed P. Sanders, dont les travaux ont exercé sur la troisième Quête une in�uence considérable8. La thèse de Sanders est que Jésus, sur la question de la orah, s’engage dans un débat interne au pharisaïsme et en respecte parfaitement les règles ; son exégèse de
La démonstration a été opérée par Martin H�����, Judentum und Hellenismus (WUN 10), übingen, Mohr, 1969. 8 Ed P. S������, Jesus and Judaism ; Judaism ; du même auteur : Te Historical Figure o Jesus, Jesus, Allen Lane, Penguin, 1993. 7
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la orah évolue à l’intérieur du débat interprétatif qui est constitutif de la foi juive, sans rompre aucunement avec lui. Selon Sanders, la seule position de Jésus que ne rati�erait pas un rabbi pharisien est d’admettre les pécheurs dans la grâce sans l’exigence préalable de la conversion9. Deux exemples suffiront à illustrer son propos. out d’abord les con�its autour du sabbat, dont la fréquence est attestée par la tradition synoptique (Mc 2,23–28 ; 3,1–6 ; Lc 13,10–17 ; etc.). La suspension occasionnelle du chômage sabbatique prescrit par la orah n’est pas un souci propre à Jésus, mais une question largement débattue dans le judaïsme ancien. Lors des guerres maccabéennes du II e siècle avant J.-C., mille juifs se laissèrent décimer au cours d’une attaque perpétrée un jour de sabbat (1 M 2,29–41). L’avis prévalut depuis lors que même si c’était sabbat, il était licite de se défendre, voire de tuer. Sur la question de savoir s’il était permis de retirer ce jour-là un animal tombé dans un puits, les Esséniens disaient non, alors que Jésus et les pharisiens approuvaient. Cette tolérance admise pour la sauvegarde de la vie, le Nazaréen l’étend à toute détresse d’autrui : « Ce qui est permis le jour du sabbat, est-ce de faire le bien ou de faire le mal ? » (Mc 3,4). Second exemple : Mc 7,15. Ce logion est traditionnellement reçu comme le congédiement, de la part de Jésus, de toute légitimité à la puri�cation rituelle : « Il n’y a rien d’extérieur à l’homme qui puisse le rendre impur en pénétrant en lui, mais ce qui sort de l’homme, voilà ce qui rend l’homme impur. » Or, si l’on fait abstraction de l’application antinomiste qu’en fait l’évangéliste Marc, force est de constater que cette parole affiche une indifférence envers les prescriptions de pureté, mais n’en réclame pas pour autant la radiation. Il est simplement affirmé ceci : aucun aliment n’est en soi pur ou impur. On rapporte de R. Johanan ben Zakkaï (mort vers 80) ce propos : « Dans votre vie, ce n’est pas le cadavre qui rend impur et l’eau qui puri�e, mais c’est une ordonnance du Saint, béni soit-il. Le Saint, béni soit-il, a dit : j’ai établi une prescription, j’ai �xé une ordonnance, et il ne t’est pas permis de transgresser mon ordonnance » 10. Jésus était-il d’avis que la halakah de pureté n’avait pas de légitimité en soi, mais devait néanmoins être observée ? Nous l’ignorons, mais il se pourrait bien. Jesus and Judaism, Judaism, p. 200–211. Pesiqta de-rav Kahana 40b (cité selon S�����-B���������, Kommentar zum Neuen estament aus almud und Midrasch, Midrasch, I, p. 719). 9
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Quoi qu’il en soit, constatons que Jésus partage avec l’aile libérale du pharisaïsme la prééminence de la loi morale sur la loi rituelle, et que d’autre part, l’affirmation indicative sur la non-légitimité de la halakah rituelle ne débouche pas chez lui sur une injonction impérative à ne pas l’observer (la chrétienté helléniste franchira ce pas, comme on le lit en Ac 10,9–16). L’hypothèse la plus vraisemblable est que le Nazaréen Naza réen s’est inscrit de fait dans une adhésion principielle à la orah, ce qu’expliquerait aussi le fait qu’aucune parole rapportée de lui ne se prononce fondamentalement sur l’autorité de la orah 11. Celle-ci est présupposée comme allant de soi, rati�ée principiellement, mais problématisée dans son application. Ainsi les propos, même vifs, de Jésus sur la orah ne l’excluent pas de la discussion interne du judaïsme ; ils con�rment à l’inverse son appartenance à celle-ci. Gerd Teissen et Annette Merz concluent ainsi : « Jésus fut au premier chef un rabbi juif, qui s’entretenait avec d’autres rabbis de l’interprétation de la orah et de la vie conforme à Dieu. La revendication sous laquelle il se plaçait lui-même ainsi que ses auditrices et auditeurs était la volonté de Dieu, telle qu’elle se manifeste dans la orah. En cela, il ne se distingue nullement des rabbis de son temps. Ce qui était par contre inhabituel, c’est la souveraineté avec laquelle Jésus exposait son interprétation de la orah. » 12 U�� �������� ������������� A partir de ce constat d’appartenance au judaïsme, plusieurs chercheurs de la troisième Quête procèdent à une complète recomposition, c’est-à-dire une complète rejudaïsation, de la �gure du Nazaréen. Geza Vermès rapproche Jésus du judaïsme charismatique illustré par les
J’ai développé ailleurs cette argumentation, in : Daniel M��������, Jean Z�������, éds, La mémoire et le temps. Mélanges Pierre Bonnard (Monde (Monde de la Bible 23), Genève, Labor et Fides, 1991, p. 55–74. Cette adhérence principielle assortie d’une compréhension critique de la orah explique à mon sens que deux courants du christianisme primitif, l’un judéo-chrétien rigoriste et l’autre antinomiste, aient pu chacun s’autoriser de la parole du Maître pour légitimer leur position sur la Loi (application en aval du critère de plausibilité). 12 Gerd �������, Annette M���, « Der umstrittene historische Jesus » , in : Sigurd M. D�����, Peter R. S���, éds, Jesus von Nazareth und das Christentum. Braucht die pluralistische Gesellschaf ein neues Jesusbild ? , Neukirchen, Neukirchener Verlag, 2000, p. 171–193, citation p. 183 (ma traduction). 11
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rabbis thaumaturges Hanina ben Dosa et Honi le traceurs de cercles 13. David Flusser assimile l’homme de Nazareth à la mouvance des rabbis pharisiens, rejoignant ainsi le beau livre, ancien et précurseur, de Joseph Klausner14. Gerd Teissen voit se concrétiser en Jésus la protestation des prophètes de renouveau messianique à l’image de Jean le Baptiseur15. De son côté, Ed P. Sanders consacre une énorme attention au geste de Jésus envers le emple (Mc 11,15–18 ; cf. 14,58) ; à son avis, cet épisode fournit une clef de compréhension de toute l’action de Jésus et de la conscience qu’il avait de lui-même 16. Contrairement aux réinterprétations chrétiennes dont il a été l’objet, ce geste violent de Jésus lors de sa montée à Jérusalem n’est pas réductible à la critique morale des prophètes contre le culte (cf. Mc 11,17–18). Il ne constitue pas non plus une protestation fondamentale contre le rite sacri�ciel (cf. Jn 4,24). rès vite mécompris par les premiers chrétiens, cet attentat s’inscrit en réalité dans l’attente apocalyptique de la �n du emple au temps messianique. Il est un geste symbolique de destruction du emple, par quoi s’atteste l’intention de Jésus d’engager le processus de restauration eschatologique d’Israël. L’homme de Nazareth trahirait ainsi une conscience messianique, qu’il investit en Israël, et pour Israël ; toute idée d’universalisme, selon Sanders, dénote plutôt la récupération chrétienne du personnage. J�������� �� ����������� La correction du paradigme de la deuxième Quête est, sur ce point, impressionnante. Les chercheurs de la troisième Quête restituent au judaïsme un Jésus que leurs prédécesseurs avaient eu tendance à absorber dans l’orbite chrétienne. L’homme de Nazareth est désormais reconnu comme comme un juif à 100%, marginal marginal peut-être peut-être – comme le
Geza V�����, Jésus V�����, Jésus le jui (Jésus (Jésus et Jésus-Christ 4), Paris, Desclée, 1978. David F������, Jésus, Jésus, Paris, Seuil, 1970. 15 Gerd �������, « Jésus et la crise sociale de son temps. Aspects socio-historiques socio-historiques de la recherche du Jésus historique », », dans Daniel M��������, Enrico N������, JeanMichel P�����, éds, Jésus de Nazareth. Nouvelles approches d’une énigme (Monde énigme (Monde de 2 la Bible 38), Genève, Labor et Fides, 2003, p. 125–155 ; Gerd ������� et Annette M���, Der historische Jesus. Ein Lehrbuch, Lehrbuch, p. 125–146. 16 Ed P. S������, Jesus S������, Jesus and Judaism, Judaism, p. 61–119. 13 14
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dénomme John P. Meier dans son monumental état de la recherche 17 –, mais juif. On ne peut s’empêcher néanmoins de soupçonner ici l’effet de balancier : après que la deuxième Quête a commué Jésus en prototype de chrétien, la troisième le ravalera-t-elle au rang de juif ordinaire ? Comment rendre adéquatement compte du fait que Jésus de Nazareth fut un juif, adhérant totalement aux convictions fondamentales de son peuple, mais qu’en même temps sa forme particulière de croyance �t de lui un homme dont les leaders religieux de son temps ne supportèrent pas la provocation ? Si véritablement, comme le prétend Sanders, Jésus ne se distingue des rabbis pharisiens que par l’absence de repentir exigé avant l’octroi du pardon divin, comment expliquer le drame de la cruci�xion ? On sait en effet, à l’exemple de Simon bar Kochba grati�é du titre messianique par Rabbi Aqiba, que la prétention messianique ne conduit pas à la condamnation pour blasphème. Par ailleurs, lorsque Jean le Baptiseur instaure un baptême pour la conversion des péchés (Mc 1,4), statuant du même coup l’insuffisance du sacri�ce d’expiation offert chaque jour au emple pour le pardon des péchés du peuple, son atteinte au système sacri�ciel ne conduisit pas à son rejet par le judaïsme officiel. Bref, comment rendre compte à la fois de l’immersion de Jésus dans le judaïsme de son temps et du rejet dont il fut l’objet ? Ma thèse est que la judaïcité de Jésus ne doit pas être affirmée au détriment de la singularité de son émergence au sein du judaïsme du premier siècle. La singularité du personnage annonce en effet et explique pourquoi le mouvement de Jésus, initialement interne au judaïsme, va progressivement se muer en entité religieuse autonome. Cette mutation n’est pas le seul produit des circonstances historiques et des aléas liés au con�it grandissant entre Eglise et Synagogue dès le milieu du premier siècle. Il trouve dans l’action de Jésus ses causes premières. De quoi la singularité de Jésus est-elle faite ? J’en distingue trois marques.
Je reprends ici le titre de l’œuvre de John P. M���� : Jesus. A Marginal Jew, Jew, 4 vols, New York, Doubleday, 1991, 1994, 2001, 2009 (traduite en français sous le titre moins signi�ant : Un certain Jui Jésus. Les données de l’histoire, l’histoire, 4 vols, Paris, Cerf, 2004, 2005, 2009). 17
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Réinterroger les liens entre Jésus et le judaïsme du second emple a conduit à un usage, parfois immodéré, de la comparaison. Les paroles de Jésus ont été rapprochées des sentences des rabbis. Ce procédé comparatiste a magni�quement éclairé les paroles du Sermon sur la montagne (Mt 5–7), dont il a été montré qu’aucune n’est dépourvue d’analogie dans le almud18. Méthodologiquement, l’exploitation de ces rapprochements fait toutefois problème. Il a été dit et montré que Lv 19,18 « u aimeras ton prochain comme toi-même » était déjà considéré dans l’école de Hillel comme une concrétion de l’exigence de la orah, et s’inscrivait dans la prééminence de la loi morale au sein du judaïsme hellénistique19. A mes yeux, il ne suffit pas de relever (avec raison) ce rapprochement pour en conclure que Jésus ne ferait que répéter une évidence communément reçue de ses contemporains. Car il s’agit de prendre en compte non seulement la formule comme telle, mais sa fonction argumentative dans le discours de Jésus. Le Sermon sur la montagne présente une série de six antithèses dominée par la clause : « vous avez appris qu’il a été dit (aux anciens)… mais moi je vous dis » (5,21–48). Si l’extension de la clause antithétique aux six unités remonte à la rédaction de l’évangile de Matthieu, l’évangéliste n’a pas conçu lui-même la clause qu’il reçoit de sa tradition20. C’est la sixième antithèse qui cite Lv 19,18 et le complète par un commentaire : « et tu haïras ton ennemi » (Mt 5,43). On ne lit pas dans le almud la prescription de haïr l’ennemi, encore moins comme une interprétation de Lv 19,18, mais la formule énonce correctement la compréhension restrictive du πλησίος dans le judaïsme contemporain de Jésus : le prochain est le compatriote, ou plus étroitement le membre de la confrérie pharisienne ; il s’oppose à l’étranger ou à l’ennemi de la nation21. La relecture que propose Jésus de Lv 19,18 détruit
Die Bergpredigt : jüdisches und christliches Glaubensdokument. Eine Synopse, Synopse, herausgegeben von Günter Bernd Ginzel, Heidelberg, Lambert Schneider, 1985. 19 Voir Jacques B������, « L’amour de Dieu et du prochain dans le judaïsme tannaïtique », Mélanges », Mélanges de Science Religieuse 60/2, Religieuse 60/2, 2003, p. 41–52. 20 Ulrich L��, Das Evangelium nach Matthäus (Mt 1–7) 1–7) (EKK I/1), Düsseldorf/ 5 Neukirchen, Benziger/Neukirchener Verlag, 2002, p. 325–326. 21 Simon L������, « Et qui est mon prochain ? » Etude sur l’objet de l’agapè dans le Nouveau estament (LeDiv (LeDiv 136), Paris, Cerf, 1989 ; Serge R����, « From “Love your Neighbour” to “Love your Enemy” : rajectories in Early Jewish Exegesis », Revue 18
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toute limite apportée à l’amour d’autrui : il trouve désormais sa pierre de touche dans l’amour de l’ennemi et la prière pour le persécuteur (Mt 5,44). La légitimation est apportée par l’amour inconditionnel de Dieu, qui fait briller le soleil et pleuvoir sur les méchants et les bons, les justes et les injustes (Mt 5,45). A l’image de la miséricorde illimitée de Dieu, l’amour d’autrui reçoit une extension illimitée. En résumé, Jésus peut récapituler la loi morale dans l’impératif d’amour d’autrui à l’instar de Hillel. Mais la mise en œuvre de cette radicalisation de l’impératif conduit à son extension inconditionnelle ; elle explique en effet la transgression d’autres préceptes de la orah au nom de l’impératif d’amour : la prescription sabbatique tout d’abord, les règles de pureté ensuite (nous y viendrons). La compréhension radicale de Lv 19,18 fonctionne donc comme un principe herméneutique conduisant à invalider une part de la Loi : un tel procédé n’a pas de précédent dans le judaïsme du second emple. U�� ���������� ��������� �� �� ������ La conception pharisienne de la pureté était une conception essentiellement défensive : le �dèle se trouvait exposé en permanence au risque d’être contaminé par son environnement, a priori impur, et se devait par conséquent d’observer scrupuleusement la loi rituelle. Le nombre de bassins rituels retrouvés à Qumrân signale, de la part de la communauté sectaire, une semblable �xation sur les contraintes de puri�cation. L’exigence de pureté conduit ainsi le croyant pharisien à se séparer des personnes ou des milieux potentiellement impurs. Avec Jésus, l’irruption du Règne proche déclenche une pratique de communion qui prend le pas sur les séparations. C’est ce qu’illustre son accueil des pécheurs, des prostituées, de la femme adultère, des collecteurs d’impôts 22 – ces groupes humains déclarés moralement impurs ou contaminés par leurs contacts avec les païens. Il se laisse
Biblique 109/3, Biblique 109/3, 2002, p. 371–389 ; I�., « “Love Your Enemy” Precept in the Sermon on the Mount in the Context of Early Jewish Exegesis : A New Perspective », Revue Biblique 111/2, Biblique 111/2, 2004, p. 193–208. 22 Mc 2,14.15–17. Mt 11,19. Lc 5,8.30 ; 7,34.36–50 ; 15,1–2 ; 18,11–13 ; 19,7. Jn J n 7,53– 8,11.
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approcher par les malades impurs (et par les impurs parmi les impurs que sont les lépreux) 23. Il rencontre des étrangers et des femmes 24. Pareille attitude n’atteste pas seulement la primauté de la morale sur la ritualité. Elle contredit la logique inhérente à une conception défensive de la pureté, qui veut que la réparation précède la communion, dont elle constitue l’indispensable préalable. Cette attaque d’une pureté défensive est con�rmée par la déclaration de Jésus en Mc 7,15 sur la pureté rituelle, à laquelle je faisais référence plus haut. Elle relativise le rituel alimentaire en déplaçant le lieu de l’impureté : ce sont désormais les paroles et les gestes reliant l’homme à son milieu qui décident de sa pureté ou de ses souillures. Parlant de ce déplacement, Klaus Berger a fait remarquer avec raison que Jésus passait ainsi d’une conception défensive à une conception offensive de la pureté 25. A mon avis, il dé�nit correctement le retournement complet de dé�nition auquel procède le Nazaréen : le rapport à autrui n’est plus stigmatisé comme un risque potentiel de souillure, mais comme le lieu où le croyant est appelé à concrétiser sa pureté. Les repas communautaires de Jésus et ses fréquentations choquantes trouvent ici leur justi�cation : Jésus « incarnait une pureté qui rayonnait charismatiquement »26. Cette inversion du rapport à la pureté n’est pas étrangère à la Bible hébraïque. Elle affleure en quelques textes : Ps 51,9–14, Ez 36,25–27, et surtout Za 14,20–21 où l’instauration du Règne eschatologique installera la pureté dans l’espace social : « En ce jour-là, les clochettes des chevaux porteront l’inscription “consacré au Seigneur” ; les marmites, dans la Maison du Seigneur, seront comme des coupes à aspersion devant l’autel. oute marmite à Jérusalem et en Juda sera consacrée au Seigneur le tout-puissant. ous ceux qui viendront présenter un sacri�ce s’en serviront pour cuire leur offrande. Il n’y aura plus de marchand dans la Maison du Seigneur le tout-puissant, en ce jour-là. » Cette �nale de la vision de Zacharie sur la grandiose venue de Dieu à la �n des temps confère à la pratique novatrice de Jésus sur la pureté un parfum d’accomplissement. Il est possible aussi que la dernière phrase offre la clef d’interprétation du geste violent de Jésus à l’égard du em-
Mc 1,40–45 ; 14,3. Mt 10,8 ; 11,5. Lc 17,11–19. L’incursion en terre terre étrangère est relatée en Mc 7,24–37, où Jésus rencontre rencontre une femme et un homme sourd-muet. 25 Klaus B�����, « Jesus als Pharisaër und frühe Christen als Pharisaër », N 30, 1988, p. 231–262. 26 Gerd ������� et Annette M���, Der historische Jesus. Ein Lehrbuch, Lehrbuch, p. 211. 23 24
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ple, dont nous parlions plus haut à propos de la lecture qu’en propose Sanders (Mc 11,15–18). Plus qu’un geste de destruction symbolique du emple de Jérusalem, comme le suggère cet exégète, Za 14,21 tend à le faire voir comme l’accomplissement d’une présence immédiate de Dieu qui rend obsolète la médiation sacri�cielle 27. Cette ré�exion introduit ce que je considère comme une troisième marque de la spéci�cité de Jésus : l’état d’urgence eschatologique. E��� �’������� �������������� Marc et Matthieu s’accordent à synthétiser le message de Jésus par l’annonce de la proximité du Règne de Dieu : « Le Règne de Dieu s’est approché ; convertissez-vous » (Mc 1,15 ; cf. Mt 4,17). Cet horizon eschatologique, qui affilie Jésus à l’apocalyptique juive, surplombe l’ensemble de ses paroles et de son action. Il est frappant en effet de constater à quel point le Nazaréen défend une nécessité d’agir, d’agir vite, et sous la pression d’un impératif absolu. Un premier exemple : Mt 5,23–24 prescrit d’interrompre le rituel sacri�ciel au emple si « tu te souviens que ton frère a quelque chose contre toi », et d’aller se réconcilier avant de reprendre le sacri�ce 28. Le con�it entre l’instance cultuelle et l’instance éthique est résolu en faveur de cette dernière. Encore une fois, une telle ré�exion n’est pas étrangère aux rabbis, mais leur argumentation vise toujours à assurer la validité du rite. L’idée d’une interruption pour un motif extérieur au rite, en l’occurrence le souci du frère, est inconnue de la halakah ; en revanche, celle d’une réconciliation préalable au sacri�ce pour en assurer la validité est présente : « Pour les fautes qui sont entre l’homme et le Lieu, le jour des Kippourim les expie ; mais pour celles qui sont entre l’homme et son semblable, le jour des Kippourim ne les expie pas, tant qu’on ne s’est pas réconcilié avec l’autre » ( Yoma 8,9)29. Or dans la parole de Jésus, la relation à renouer ne constitue pas un acte préalable à l’exercice authentique du culte, mais un impératif dont Je dois cette suggestion à Christian G�����, dans son article : « La séparation entre juifs et chrétiens à la �n du premier siècle : circonstances historiques et raisons théologiques », ER 80, 2005, p. 327–345, voir p. 342. 28 Je renvoie pour l’étude de ce texte à mon livre : Le jugement dans l’Évangile de Matthieu (Monde Matthieu (Monde de la Bible 6), Genève, Labor et Fides, 21995, p. 160–163. 29 Cité par S�����-B���������, Kommentar zum Neuen estament aus almud und Midrasch, Midrasch, I, p. 287. 27
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l’urgence ne souffre aucun délai. La situation cultuelle est invoquée comme une situation-limite, apte à illustrer la radicalité de l’injonction. Aucun devoir, fût-il sacré, n’est en mesure de concurrencer le besoin de réconciliation. Un second exemple : les consignes d’envoi des disciples (Lc 10,1–16). Envoyés proclamer la venue prochaine du Règne et guérir les malades, les disciples reçoivent la surprenante consigne de n’emporter « pas de bourse, pas de sac, pas de sandales, et n’échangez de salutations avec personne » (Lc 10,4). Un dénuement absolu est donc requis des missionnaires, et l’interdit de saluer en chemin constitue une infraction notable aux règles orientales de la civilité. Pareille consigne dévoile un rapport au temps marqué par l’urgence. Perce ici la conscience de Jésus d’inaugurer un temps qualitativement différent, tout entier surplombé par la proximité du Règne. Mais cette conscience que le temps presse re�ète fondamentalement l’expérience singulière du Dieu d’Israël qui fut celle du Nazaréen. Les premiers chrétiens ont traduit par une série de titres christologiques (Messie, �ls de Dieu, �ls de David, premier-né de la création) l’absolue conviction qu’avait Jésus d’être l’élu de Dieu pour assumer le rôle unique, à nul autre pareil, d’être l’expression même de Dieu pour son peuple. Jésus lui-même ne s’est pas appliqué ces titres, ce que les évangiles synoptiques ont respecté en ne les plaçant jamais sur ses lèvres. On peut en tout cas comprendre sa réticence à se parer du titre de Messie, compte tenu des connotations nationalistes fortes dont le titre était empreint de son temps. Il s’est par contre servi du titre « �ls de l’homme », dérivé de l’appellation collective de Dn 7,13 (où il désigne le peuple renouvelé) et individualisé au premier siècle ; il était convaincu que le �ls de l’homme, lors du jugement eschatologique, rati�erait son message. « Quiconque se déclarera pour moi devant les hommes, le �ls de l’homme aussi se déclarera pour lui devant les anges a nges de Dieu ; mais celui qui m’aura renié devant les hommes sera renié devant les anges de Dieu » (Lc 12,8–9). Habité par cette conviction, Jésus transmet dans ses exhortations et concrétise dans ses initiatives l’urgence d’installer le droit de Dieu en Israël, sans délai ni compromis. Et du coup, l’impératif quitte le registre du raisonnable. L’éthique du Sermon sur la montagne – réfréner même l’insulte banale, tendre l’autre joue, donner à quiconque demande, aimer l’ennemi, prier pour le persécuteur, vivre sans souci du lendemain (Mt 5,21–6,34) – est une morale de l’excès, qui rompt avec
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la morale raisonnable des sages d’Israël et ne se plie pas à la mesure de l’humain. On ne relève en effet, dans la prédication de Jésus, aucune ré�exion sur la faisabilité de l’obéissance ainsi prescrite : l’impératif est énoncé, nu et sans compromis. L� « ������ �� �� ���� » Cette absence de pragmatisme constitue une différence cinglante entre Jésus et la tradition des sages d’Israël. Joseph Klausner, auteur en 1933 d’une admirable monographie « Jésus de Nazareth », a bien perçu cette singularité du Nazaréen30. Il commente ainsi la morale en excès du Sermon sur la montagne : « En tout ceci, Jésus est le plus Juif d’entre les Juifs, plus Juif que Shimeon ben Shetah, plus Juif même que Hillel. Pourtant, rien n’est plus dangereux pour le judaïsme national que ce Judaïsme outré ; c’est la ruine de la civilisation nationale, de l’organisation nationale et de la vie nationale. »31 Pour Klausner, l’éthique doit fonder une vie sociale dans le cadre d’une communauté nationale : « La religion était pour Israël plus qu’une simple croyance, et plus qu’une morale, c’était un code de vie. »32 Or, en déclarant périmées l’observance du sabbat et la ritualité alimentaire, en critiquant les accommodements de la halakah pharisienne pour y substituer des impératifs radicaux, Jésus « manque complètement complètement de ces grandes qualités politiques qu’avaient montrées les Prophètes qui, d’un regard d’aigle, savaient embrasser les royaumes et les nations de l’univers entier. »33 En un mot, Klausner reproche à l’homme de Nazareth de n’avoir pas su demeurer un sage, poursuivi qu’il était par des chimères apocalyptiques. « Pour cette raison, la nation, dans son ensemble, ne pouvait voir dans cet idéal collectif qu’une chimère bizarre et même dangereuse [. . .] Cette doctrine tirait son origine du Judaïsme prophétique, et dans une certaine mesure du Judaïsme pharisaïque, mais d’une part niait tout ce qui liait le Judaïsme à la vie, et, d’autre part, amenait ce Judaïsme à une sorte d’extrêmisme qui devenait dans un certain sens un non-Judaïsme. Ainsi s’explique ce phénomène étrange
Joseph K�������, Jésus K�������, Jésus de Nazareth. Son temps, sa vie, sa doctrine (Bibliothèque doctrine (Bibliothèque Historique), Paris, Payot, 1933 (trad. française d’un original hébraïque). 31 Jésus de Nazareth, Nazareth, p. 538–539. 32 Jésus de Nazareth, Nazareth, p. 534. 33 Jésus de Nazareth, Nazareth, p. 535. 30
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en apparence : le Judaïsme qui a donné naissance au Christianisme sous sa première forme (la doctrine de Jésus) a chassé son �ls en voyant que celui-ci voulait lui donner le baiser de la mort. » 34 La brillante intelligence de Klausner lui a bien fait percevoir l’irréductibilité de Jésus au sein du judaïsme ancien. Cette singularité de Jésus est-elle le résultat d’une déviance apocalyptique ou du génie propre du Nazaréen ? C’est ici que les esprits se séparent. Mais quoi qu’il en soit, nous sommes fort éloignés de l’assimilation du Nazaréen aux �gures disponibles dans le judaïsme palestinien (le rabbi pharisien, le prophète de conversion), à laquelle procèdent les tenants de la troisième Quête. En dernière analyse, Jésus échappe à ces classi�cations, même s’il emprunte des traits à la fois au sage et au prophète 35. Sa singularité se manifeste, j’y reviens, dans la clause qui ouvre sa réinterprétation de la orah : « vous avez appris qu’il a été dit (aux anciens) . . . mais moi je vous dis ». La formule fait � de la chaîne traditionnelle des interprètes de la Loi. Impertinent et autoritaire, ce « je » est inouï dans la tradition rabbinique. Jamais un rabbi n’avait osé se placer à la hauteur de Moïse pour restaurer dans sa radicalité le droit de Dieu. Il traduit la conscience exceptionnelle qu’avait Jésus de son identité. Je conclus. La troisième Quête du Jésus de l’histoire, même si elle diverge dans l’aboutissement de ses travaux, a l’immense mérite de nous conduire à revisiter l’image du judaïsme du second emple. Elle a permis de nettoyer notre connaissance historique du milieu de Jésus de ses caricatures, restituant au judaïsme ancien l’accueillante diversité qui fut la sienne. Apprécier la judaïcité de Jésus est à ce prix. Simultanément, la troisième Quête risque de commettre une erreur symétrique à celle de ses prédécesseurs : immergeant sans nuance Jésus dans son milieu, elle perd de vue sa singularité, qui explique le rejet dont il fut l’objet. Comment penser ensemble judaïcité et singularité de Jésus de Nazareth ? el fut l’objet de ma démonstration.
Jésus de Nazareth, p. Nazareth, p. 541–542. J’en ai fait la démonstration dans : « Jésus le sage et Jésus le prophète », in : Jésus de Nazareth. Nouvelles approches d’une énigme, énigme , Daniel M��������, Enrico N������, Jean-Michel P�����, éds, p. 293–317. 34 35
JÉSUS LE NAZARÉEN � FONDAEUR � OU � RÉNOVAEUR RÉNOVAEUR � ? François Blanchetière Au �l du temps se sont élaborées et transmises un certain nombre de propositions qui se sont imposées comme autant de vérités indémontrables, canonisées par l’Institution, ne varietur sous peine de sanctions1. Or, comme l’affirme l’historien C. G�������, il est bon de poser des questions là où les autres n’en voient pas 2. Ainsi, au nombre de ces « vérités » sans cesse reprises jusqu’à notre époque, il en est une que nous retiendrons ici pour en discuter le bien ondé, à savoir : Jésus de Nazareth a fondé une nouvelle religion, ou, pour reprendre une autre ormulation : Le Christianisme constitue une nouvelle religion fondée par Jésus de Nazareth. En conséquence, nous poserons trois questions : Et d’abord, il nous audra nous demander dans quelle mesure le mouvement généré par la personnalité de Jésus de Nazareth peut être quali�é de nouvelle religion ? Ensuite nous aurons à véri�er la date à partir de laquelle nous sommes historiquement ondés ondés à parler de Christianisme, même si l’usage prévaut et qu’il ne peut être question d’aller à l’encontre . Ultime question : Jésus le nazaréen doit-il être regardé comme un « ondateur » ou comme un « rénovateur » ? Abordons pour commencer le terme de religion et mettons-nous d’accord sur le sens du concept qui a ait l’objet de multiples dé�nitions, car, comme l’a écrit A. Malraux, raisonner avec un vocabulaire inexact, c’est peser avec de faux poids . Pour notre part, le concept de
Quod semper, ubique ab omnibus tenetur pour reprendre la dé�nition du dogme par Vincent de Lérins (V e siècle) : Ce qui a été tenu par tout le monde, toujours et partout. À titre d’exemple, souvenons-nous des avatars de l’interprétation de l’Ecri1
ture dans le courant catholique depuis Richard S���� jusqu’à A. L���� et la crise moderniste pour ne pas évoquer une époque plus contemporaine et la �gure du Père L������� ou les « ennuis » des Chenu, Congar, Hans Kung pour les plus célèbres. « Quel sera le contenu de la oi orthodoxe, si on examine la tradition chrétienne en lui appliquant ces trois critères (de Vincent de Lérins) à l’aide des connaissances historiques dont nous disposons aujourd’hui ? » G. B�������, L’enfant hérétique Paris 2004, p. 119. 2 C. G�������, G�������, Interview Interview au Monde des Livres du vendredi 17.2.2006.
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religion recouvre un système de convictions et de pratiques qui struc-
turent, motivent et justi�ent l’existence d’un individu ou d’un groupe humain tout en lui ournissant un ensemble de réponses aux grandes questions métaphysiques qu’il se pose. Or, à la lecture de notre documentation venue des premiers acteurs du mouvement, quelles étaient les convictions des Nazaréens3 et d’abord celles de leur Maître ? Sans ambages et pour en rester à l’essentiel, il aut répondre que juis, ils partageaient les convictions ondamentales de la majorité de leurs coreligionnaires de Palestine : – le monothéisme strict ; – l’appartenance au peuple d’Israël : ils se considéraient comme les descendants d’Abraham et les tributaires de l’Alliance (Rm 9–11) ; – une même interprétation des Ecritures reçues comme Parole de Dieu ; les mêmes principes herméneutiques, alors que les interprétations elles-mêmes pouvaient changer. On constate ainsi des divergences sur la jurisprudence relative aux observances à respecter lors du Shabbat. On trouve à plusieurs reprises dans les Evangiles ces paroles mises dans la bouche du Maître : On vous a dit . . ., et moi je vous dis . . . d’où la mise en question par les Pharisiens de l’autorité de Jésus à �xer ainsi la jurisprudence relative aux observances lui dont on ignore les Maîtres et qui vient de Galilée (Mt 21, 12–17, 23–27) ; – L’attachement à la la erre d’Israël ; – Une égale prévention à l’endroit des non-juis non-juis et du polythéisme ; À cela on peut ajouter qu’avec les pharisiens, ils partageaient – la conviction de la résurrection des morts ; – l’idée d’une Providence divine dirigeant le monde.
Au terme judéo-chrétien orgé à la �n du XIX e siècle par F. Ch. B���, il nous paraît préérable de recourir au terme Nazaréen déjà en usage dans l’Antiquité pour désigner ceux qui, d’origine juive et de culture sémitique, se revendiquaient de Jésus de Nazareth. Nombre de points abordés présentement de açon synthétique ont ait l’objet d’analyses plus approondies dans deux ouvrages auxquels on se permet de renvoyer : F. B�����������, Enquête sur les racines juives du mouvement chrétien (30–135), Paris 2001 ; Les premiers chrétiens étaient-ils missionnaires ? (30–135), Paris 2002. 3
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En�n, avec les esséniens : – – – –
l’opposition lumière/ténèbres que l’on l’on retrouve chez Jean ; le thème de l’accomplissement l’accomplissement des Ecritures ; l’attente messianique, le Messie �ls �ls de David ; La conscience de constituer constituer le verus Israel, l’Israël authentique de l’ère eschatologique.
Et avec certains courants la conviction de vivre la �n des temps, les derniers jours, le jour du Seigneur, l’importance du baptême de repentance. Autre aspect du problème : le Christianisme constitue-t-il, à l’origine, une « nouvelle religion » ? Doit-on parler de Jésus comme d’un « novateur » ou comme d’un « rénovateur » ? Or, qui dit « nouveau » dit original, commencement, création de quelque chose qui n’existait pas antérieurement, « innovation ». Or, le Judaïsme aussi bien que le polythéisme traditionnel répugne de açon viscérale à l’innovation en matière de ce que recouvre le terme religion dans son sens moderne, le premier restant attaché à la tradition des Anciens4, le second à ce qu’à Rome on dénomme le mos maiorum. Il suffit pour s’en convaincre d’évoquer parmi les plus représentatis des auteurs comme acite ou Juvénal vitupérant l’in�uence grandissante des religions orientales à Rome ; ou bien encore Celse, le contemporain de Marc-Aurèle et l’auteur de l’ alèthès logos ou Discours véridique, reprochant aux Chrétiens leur double « apostasie » -stasispour avoir abandonné et leur Judaïsme et les dieux de la Cité. De son côté, Jésus n’a certainement pas tendu à constituer une « nouvelle religion ». Matthieu met, en effet, dans sa bouche ces paroles : N’allez pas croire que je sois venu abroger la Loi et les Prophètes. Je ne suis pas venu abroger, mais accomplir (Mt 5, 17)5. Paul, de son côté, nous y reviendrons, rappelle l’exigence d’une observance totale de la Loi pour tout circoncis et dans les ameux chapitre 9 à 11 de l’épître
Dans le Judaïsme palestinien, on distingue distingue la Loi écrite, ce que Jésus évoque par la Loi et les Prophètes et que nous appelons les Ecritures d’une part, et la Loi orale transmission de Maîtres à élèves des commentaires de la Loi écrite, ce que l’on appelle encore la tradition des Anciens, l’une et l’autre rattachées à Moïse. 5 Ce verset se retrouve dans certaines certaines versions anciennes anciennes du almud de Babylone, (BShab. 116a–b). C. D. J����, Le Talmud et les origines du Christianisme. Jésus, Paul et les Judéo-chrétiens dans la littérature talmudique Paris 2007 p. 109. 4
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aux Romains, il souligne que les dons de Dieu sont sans repentance et qu’Il n’a en rien abandonné Israël 6. Comme tous ses devanciers, les prophètes d’Israël, en ne s’adressant qu’aux brebis dispersées de la maison d’Israël (Mt 25, 24), en demeurant cantonné dans les limites géographiques d’Israël, Jésus, le pro phète de Nazareth en Galilée Gal ilée (Mt 21,11) , puissant , puissant en œuvre et en parole (Lc 24, 19) se situe comme un homme du renouveau, un promoteur de l’authentique verus Israel , un prophète du retour à Dieu appelé Père, dans l’accomplissement de la orah que résume le Shem’a, la proession de oi juive. Si l’on parle de nouveau Testament, de nouvelle Alliance, c’est dans le sens où Jérémie employait ces expressions. Dieu en effet n’a qu’un seul propos. Il ne change pas, comme le rappelle Paul aux Romains. Ainsi, rien de nouveau en tout cela. Le mouvement des disciples du Rabbi de Nazareth, à son origine, constitue une sorte de revival. Lazare Landau a écrit, ort pertinemment : le rapport du Judaïsme au Christianisme n’est pas celui de la usée porteuse à son satellite, une usée qui, une ois le satellite en orbite, retombe et se désintègre. Et, de son côté, Paul parle d’un rapport existentiel de l’arbre à sa racine. Ne l’a-t-on pas trop longtemps oublié ? Jésus est un réformateur comme comme l’histoire d’Israël en a connu bien d’autres, et non un fondateur . Outre les convictions, les disciples de Jésus partagent avec leurs contemporains judéo-palestiniens des pratiques, essentiellement l’observance des préceptes de la orah. Paul le rappelle avec orce à ses correspondants, lui qui a ait circoncire imothée né d’une mère juive Retenons deux citations de F. L����� : « . . . je crois que Jésus entendait moins onder une nouvelle religion que libérer l’être humain du poids des traditions religieuses, quelles qu’elles soient, en mettant l’accent sur la liberté individuelle et l’intériorité de la vie spirituelle. C’est le propre des grands sages de l’humanité. » Le Christ philosophe, Paris 2007 p. 25. « . . . quoiqu’il n’ait pas explicitement voulu sortir du judaïsme, Jésus a bousculé celui-ci comme aucun prophète avant lui n’a pu ou voulu le aire. Il est retourné à ses ondements, a puisé dans ses croyances, dans ses traditions, il a mis en avant des enseignements relégués au second plan, balayé des pratiques institutionnalisées, mais aussi institué de manière délibérée, par ses gestes et ses injonctions, une nouvelle spiritualité reliée à sa personne et une éthique à portée universelle. On peut donc dire que le Jésus des Evangiles est assurément un grand réormateur du Judaïsme, un thaumaturge au charisme exceptionnel, un maître spirituel et un sage à la vie exemplaire et au discours révolutionnaire . . . Une ois dépassées les affirmations idéologiques qui ont marqué des siècles de Christianisme, il est désormais quasi unanimement reconnu que Jésus le Nazaréen . . . n’a pas été le premier chrétien. » ibid. p. 97–98. 6
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(Ac. 16, 1–2) : j’atteste, encore une fois, à tout homme qui se fait circoncire qu’il est tenu de pratiquer la Loi intégralement (Gal 5, 3). Jacques, rère du Seigneur, ne dit pas autre chose lorsqu’il s’adresse à Paul : Tu peux voir, frère, combien de milliers de �dèles il y a parmi les Juifs, et tous sont d’ardents partisans de la Torah (Ac 21, 20). Au IIe siècle, Justin dans son Dialogue avec Tryphon 47, 1–4 et le polémiste Celse attestent la permanence de disciples observateurs de la Torah. Il est
touteois capital de souligner que cette pratique des préceptes de la orah est subordonnée aux interprétations de leur Maître divergeant de celle des Sages pharisiens, Jésus qui met l’accent sur la primauté de l’amour et de l’esprit sur le respect rigoriste de la lettre. Au nombre de ces pratiques, évoquons, au sein de la première communauté, telle que nous la décrivent les Actes des Apôtres, la réquentation du emple et la prière. À ce propos, il aut souligner que la prière enseignée par Jésus aux siens et que l’on connaît sous l’appellation de Notre Père est on ne peut plus juive. Certains textes anciens, Irénée par exemple, parlent de leurs lieux de prière comme de leurs synagogues. D’autres précisent qu’ils prient trois ois le jour tournés vers Jérusalem. Ils continueront, pour certains jusqu’au V e siècle au moins, à célébrer la Pâque le quatorzième jour de Nisan, soit à la pleine lune du premier mois de l’année commençant à l’équinoxe de printemps, en conormité avec les prescriptions de la orah. D’autres encore observeront le sabbat et d’autres, à la ois le sabbat et le premier jour de la semaine, notre dimanche. Restent à évoquer les jeûnes et le respect des préceptes alimentaires : interdit du sang, de la consommation d’animaux non rituellement abattus ou offerts préalablement aux idoles. Les directives prétendument arrêtées lors de l’assemblée de Jérusalem (Ac 15, 20) et le « con�it » d’Antioche entre Pierre et Paul en témoignent (Gal 2, 11–21 ; Ac 15, 1–4). En résumé, Jésus et son entourage ne se singularisèrent ni du ait de leurs convictions les plus ondamentales, leurs convictions messianiques par exemple, ni dans leurs pratiques des préceptes de la orah. Ils urent et restèrent Juis 7.
Les Juis de Palestine au temps de Jésus mettent mettent l’accent sur les pratiques tandis que les disciples de Jésus de culture hellénistique le mettent sur les concepts, comme le eront bientôt les disciples de culture latine. M. S����� a paraitement démontré sur la base d’une étude du terme religio l’in�uence de ertullien dans ce qu’il appelle la subversion des concepts. M. S�����, « Religio/superstitio Religio/superstitio », Histoire d’une subversion et d’un retournement retournement », Revue de l’histoire des religions, 208, 4 (1991). 7
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Découlant de ce qui vient d’être avancé, se pose une nouvelle questions : A partir de quelle date est-on en droit de parler du Christianisme comme d’une « nouvelle religion » et non plus comme d’un courant au sein du Judaïsme polymorphe ? A vrai dire, une réponse catégorique est difficile à apporter, car nous sommes maniestement en présence d’un processus lent et progressi d’éloignement, puis de rupture. outeois, il semble que l’on puisse marquer deux étapes importantes. La première commence dès lors que les pagano-chrétiens de culture hellénistique deviennent majoritaires. La rupture linguistique et surtout culturelle avec le Judaïsme matriciel est peu à peu consommée et l’anti-judaïsme théologique se renorce. out ceci s’exprime en premier lieu dans les interprétations de l ‘Ecriture. Le second moment clé se situe au IVe siècle lorsque le Christianisme, de toléré qu’il était depuis les édits de Constantin en 313, devient religion d’état sous Téodose en 3808, la christianitas tendant à se substituer à la romanitas, pour reprendre le vocabulaire d’Ambroise de Milan. Venons-en à notre seconde interrogation : dans quelle mesure sommes-nous historiquement ondés à parler de Christianisme dès l’époque de Jésus, soit durant la première moitié du I er siècle de l’ère courante ? Quoi qu’il en soit de l’usage contre lequel il ne peut être question d’aller, procéder comme nous le aisons constitue d’abord un anachronisme. L’étymologie du terme chrétien reste controversée. Présent dans le Nouveau estament uniquement à deux reprises et dans des textes de rédaction tardive (Ac 26, 28 ; 1P 4, 16), chrétien, apparu à Antioche sous Caius Caligula vers 40 (Ac 11, 26), n’est employé couramment qu’à partir des premières décennies du II eme siècle chez Ignace d’Antioche ou Justin, mais aussi chez Flavius Josèphe qui parle de la race des chrétiens, ou chez Pline le jeune, Suétone et acite qui précise : A l’origine de ce nom, il y a (un certain) Christ que, sous le principat de Tibère, le procurateur Ponce Pilate avait livré au supplice ( Annales 15, 44). Un ouvrage lexicographique du Xe siècle, la Suda, dont les sources nous sont inconnues, nous apporte cette précision importante i mportante : Sous Claude, empereur des Romains . . . ceux que l’on appelait antérieurement
L’édit de Tessalonique stipule : « ous les peuples doivent se rallier à la oi transmise au peuple romain par l’Apôtre Pierre . . . » tandis qu’un nouvel édit pris en 391 interdit toute pratique du polythéisme. 8
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Nazaréens ou Galiléens furent dénommés Chrétiens. Or, déjà au IVe siècle Eusèbe de Césarée écrit dans son Onomasticon : Nazareth. Sur la base de ce nom le Christ fut appelé le Nazaréen et nous qui sommes présentement dénommés Chrétiens avons reçu dans le passé le nom de Nazaréen, tandis que son contemporain Epiphane, né lui aussi en Palestine, ne craint cr aint pas d’affirmer péremptoirement : Pareillement, tous les Chrétiens furent autrefois appelés Nazaréens. En revanche christianisme n’est pas attesté avant le règne de rajan,
soit autour des années 110. Dans l’une de ses lettres, Ignace d’Antioche oppose en effet comme deux comportements incompatibles, christianizein-vivre selon le Christ à ioudaizein-vivre à la Juif , et pareillement christianismos et ioudaismos Même s’il y a un anachronisme consacré par l’usage, et même si l’on parle d’Histoire du Christianisme et non plus d’Histoire ecclésiastique comme l’ont ait Eusèbe de Césarée et ses épigones, le recours au terme Christianisme pour désigner le mouvement des disciples de Jésus de Nazareth à ses origines est autrement lourd de conséquences. Cela aboutit en dé�nitive à une oblitération de tout un pan de ce mouvement. Il ne suffit pas d’insérer dans une Histoire du Christianisme quelques pages minimalistes sur le Judaïsme palestinien à l’époque de Jésus et quelques autres sur le judéo-christianisme pour donner à supposer la complexité réelle de la situation et des questions qu’elle soulève. Jésus et les siens, à l’origine, sont tous Juis d’expression sémitique, pétris de culture biblique, tributaires des principes herméneutiques en honneur dans le milieu palestinien de la �n de la période du second emple. Paul en est un exemple comme Bonsirven l’a jadis démontré et bien d’autres depuis. Il s’ensuit que, tenant d’un monothéisme strict, Jésus n’a pu se dire �ls de Dieu dans le sens que cette expression a acquis depuis les quatre premiers conciles. Par quels détours en est-on arrivé à la ormulation du Credo des quatre premiers conciles et avec quelles conséquences ? Il n’est pas anodin de se demander si Jésus de Nazareth se reconnaîtrait dans le Christ de Chalcédoine ! Par ailleurs, Il n’a pu prononcer ces paroles : ceci est mon sang, prenez et buvez en tous quand on connaît la répulsion du Jui pour le sang. D’autres exemples pourraient être avancés. Ceci conduit donc à soulever un certain nombre d’interrogations qu’on ne peut repousser d’un haussement d’épaule ou d’un revers de main. Sans pour autant épouser les théories de Daniélou envisageant
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trois étapes successives dans l’évolution de la théologie et une théologie judéo-chrétienne au point de départ, on est en droit de se demander quelles ont été les conséquences du processus de reormulation des idées de Jésus dans des concepts grecs. Nous touchons là à un problème de mentalité et de cultures dont nous connaissons un parallèle dans le Judaïsme avec Philon ace aux interprétations des Sages palestiniens. À titre d’exemple, considérons le terme Torah qui signi�e enseignement et qui devient Nomos en grec et veut dire coutume, puis Lex c’est-à-dire loi ; autre exemple l’ emounah n’est pas la pistis, encore moins le credo. On voit dès lors à quels contresens on peut aboutir. Il s’agit donc d’une véritable transmutation des concepts, d’un passage d’une pensée concrète à une pensée abstraite. Se pose donc la question des responsables de cette transposition des concepts d’origine sémitique dans des termes greco-hellénistiques, puis latins. Qui, dans quels milieux, sous quelles in�uences philosophiques ou autres ? On a pu parler du Stoïcisme des Pères . . . En reprenant une ormule �gurant à de multiples exemplaires dans des épitaphes en Arique romaine au début de notre ère, on pourrait ormuler l’hypothèse suivante : Le transert et la transposition, pour ne pas parler avec M. Sachot de subversion, à la limite de perversion des idées véhiculées par les disciples de Jésus de culture sémitique se seraient opérés en milieu hellénistique par le truchement de disciples à la double culture (sémitique et hellénistique) dont Paul reste pour nous l’exemple le mieux documenté, même s’il ne représente certainement pas un cas unique. En dé�nitive, ne parler que d’histoire du Christianisme se révèle réducteur, obérant toute la dimension orientale des églises issues, elles aussi, de l’enseignement de Jésus, mais restées �dèles à leur culture, à leur mode de pensée, à leurs açons propres de s’exprimer et d’interpréter, bre à leur originalité9. On a conondu, si l’on ne conond pas Le courant des disciples de Jésus de culture sémitique sémitique ne s’est pas un jour perdu dans les sables pour disparaître, comme certains historiens modernes l’ont écrit. Les églises d’Orient revendiquent hautement leur antiquité et leur particularisme : tout un courant théologique, des écrivains comme Bardessane et surtout Ephrem de Nisibe, des liturgies. Elles ont transmis des écrits issus de la plus haute Antiquité, rangés aujourd’hui pour la plupart parmi les apocryphes. De plus le terme judaïsant qui a ait couler beaucoup d’encre semble bien désigner dans les écrits relevant du courant hellénistique ceux des disciples de Jésus qui continuaient de iudaizein, de vivre à la juive, comme l’écrit Ignace, tandis que Justin vitupère ces mêmes judaïsants qui entendent imposer à tous leur mode de vie. Certains auteurs, par exemple, voient aujourd’hui dans la didascalie des douze Apôtres, un écrit issu au III e siècle de la 9
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toujours, unité et uniormité. N’est-on pas en présence d’une maniestation ancienne de l’européocentrisme ? Avant de devenir, au IIe siècle, un terme générique pour dénommer en Occident les disciples de Jésus de culture gréco-latine, Chrétien n’a désigné que les �dèles d’expression grecque, les Hellènes. En revanche, les disciples de culture sémitique ont été appelés ou se sont désignés comme Nazaréens. Et jusqu’à nos jours, c’est, en arabe par exemple, d’un terme dérivé de nazaréen que les disciples de Jésus continuent de s’appeler. out bien considéré l’expression Jésus fondateur d’une nouvelle religion se révèle un assemblage de concepts sans réelle justi�cation historique. Il n’en est pas moins vrai que Jésus, le prophète de Nazareth en Galilée (Mt 21, 11) a suscité un mouvement religieux spéci�que au sein du Judaïsme d’expression sémitique au cours des premières décennies de l’ère commune. Ce mouvement a connu une lente et progressive évolution au ur et à mesure que certains de ses éléments, de culture hellénistique, se sont affranchis du milieu jui matriciel. Pour ces derniers, à savoir les Chrétiens, Ignace d’Antioche par exemple, mais aussi pour les tenants du Judaïsme rabbinique,10 Judaïsme et Christianisme ne sont pas seulement antagoniques, ils sont exclusis. Ils n’auront pas de mots assez orts pour dénoncer les judaïsants, c’est-à-dire les disciples de Jésus maintenant intégralement leur �délité aux pratiques de la orah. Reconstituer l’histoire de cette évolution nécessiterait de longs développements11. Il n’en demeure pas moins, que du strict point de vue historique, Jésus de Nazareth ne peut être considéré comme un fondateur . Il s’est voulu un réformateur , un rénovateur cherchant à ramener Israël, son peuple, à une pratique scrupuleuse de la orah se résumant dans l’amour, ainsi qu’il l’explique aux Pharisiens venus l’interroger : « Maître, quel est le plus grand commandement de la Loi » Jésus répondit : « Tu aimeras le Seigneur ton Dieu de tout ton cœur, de Syrie méridionale, comme une Mishna judéo-chrétienne. C. A. F�����, « Frontières de l’Eglise, rontières dans l’Eglise, La période paléochrétienne », Revue des Sciences Religieuses 81 (2007) 49sq. 10 Qu’il suffise d’évoquer la birkat haminim. 11 Pour une approche partielle du problème, problème, on peut consulter F. B�����������, B�����������, « Reconstruire les origines chrétiennes : le courant « nazaréen » in Bulletin du Centre de Recherche Français de Jérusalem 16 (2007) 43–57, (consultable en ligne http://bcrf .revues.org/sommaire31.html).
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toute ton âme et de toute ta pensée. C’est là le grand, le premier commandement. Un second est aussi important : Tu aimeras ton prochain comme toi-même. De ces deux commandements dépendent toute la Loi et les Prophètes » (Mt 22, 35–40 ; Gal 5, 14). Quel non-sens d’opposer le Christianisme religion de l’amour au Judaïsme religion de la crainte
et du légalisme !
JEWISH�CHRISIANS IN RABBINIC LIERAURE
“IN NEHARDEA WHERE HERE ARE NO HEREICS” : HE PURPORED JEWISH RESPONSE O CHRISIANIY IN NEHARDEA �A RE�EXAMINAION OF HE ALMUDIC EVIDENCE�*
Barak S. Cohen Historians o the rabbinic period have identi�ed some remarks made by prominent Babylonian Nehardean rabbis rom the Sasanian period, among them Shmuel, Rav Sheshet, Rav Nahman and Amemar, as being aimed at Christians currently active in their region. Such claims were advanced by scholars such as Solomon Funk, Adol Neubauer, Isaac Halevy, Jacob Obermeyer and E. E. Urbach. In contrast, my analysis o the passages in which these remarks are embedded raises doubts as to the accuracy o these claims. I argue that there is no evidence in the Bavli that Nehardean sages had any direct contact with Christians or were amiliar with Christian daily practice. Te conclusion that in these talmudic traditions rabbis are not responding to Christians correlates with the data provided in Christian chronicles as to the spread, or ailure to spread, o Christianity in Nehardea, Pumbedita and the surrounding areas during the talmudic period (third–�fh centuries C.E.) Te absence o Christians in this region during the talmudic period is urther corroborated by a statement in B Pesahim 56a, according to which there were no heretics, Christians or otherwise, in Nehardea during the amoraic period. Tis study also corroborates a historical �nding which I have demonstrated elsewhere, namely the dependence o Babylonian Amoraim rom this region on Palestinian Halakhah ound in the Mishnah and other tannaitic sources. Many o the passages in which Amoraim are supposedly responding to Christians in their own region are better understood in light o the Palestinian traditions to which the Babylonian Amoraim are more likely responding. Tis study demonstrates that a combination o talmudic analysis and historical research is * I wish to express my gratitude to Pro. Sebastian Brock o the o the Faculty o Oriental Studies at Oxord University or reading an earlier version o this article and providing me with his pertinent comments. Since the preparation o this paper, I have bene�ted immensely rom the help and encouragement o my colleague at Bar-Ilan University, Dr. Dan Jaffé, who has ostered this study in every way possible.
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essential or constructing a coherent intellectual history o the Amoraim and their interaction with others. II Beore we analyze these talmudic texts, it is necessary to address directly some problematic assumptions broadly shared by historians who posited the existence o a Jewish-Christian debate in Nehardea during the talmudic period. Resting on aulty assumptions and preconceived notions, many o these arguments are weak and we shall challenge and reute them one at a time. II.a
Te texts which we will deal with below employ the term “minim,” identi�ed by many scholars as Christians. However, these “minim,” who are certainly judged to be heretical by rabbis, are not necessarily Christians. Judging by the content o these speci�c sources, the “minim” could be identi�ed as Hellenistic Jews, Zoroastrians, or members o various Gnostic sects. Te term may even be a general reerence directed at various sectarian groups and their members, and it is certainly not used exclusively in connection with Christians. 1 Concerning the term, Jacob Sussman writes: Te term “minim” is used to reer to heretics in a very broad sense o the word. . . . whether he is merely a denier or an member o an actual sect . . . such as the Sadducees or Boethusians . . . Samaritans . . . and similarly Christians . . . Christian Christian Jews . . . various types o Gnostics . . . It is even used in reerence to idol worshipers and members o other religions in all o their various maniestations. Te term’s usage is dictated by the
Te literature on this question is enormous. See, most recently: D. Jaffé, Le judaïsme et l’avènement du christianisme. Orthodoxie et hétérodoxie dans la littérature talmudique I er –II e siècle, Paris 2005, pp. 88–91; idem, Le almud et les origines juives du christianisme. Jésus, Paul et les judéo-chrétiens dans la littérature talmudique, Paris 2007, pp. 132–135. o the literature cited in these recent studies, we can add the ollowing studies that speci�cally deal with the issues discussed here: W. Bacher, “ravers Herord’s ‘Christianity in the almud and Midrash’”, JQR, Old Series, 17 (1905), pp. 178–179; J. Sussman, “Te History o Halakha and the Dead Sea Scrolls—Preliminary Observations on Miqsat Ma’ase Ha-orah (4QMM)” [Heb], arbiz 59 (1990), p. 54, n. 176; E. Ahdut, “Jewish-Zoroastrian Polemics in the Babylonian almud” [Heb], Irano-Judaica, 4 (2000), pp. 29–30. 1
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historical era in which it is used, and it is likely that the term takes on a more general meaning in later periods. 2
More speci�cally concerning the issue which I will address in this paper, in a study on Jewish-Christian polemics in rabbinic literature, Richard Kalmin came to the ollowing conclusion: . . . Palestinian rabbis had requent interactions with Bible-reading nonJews (or example, Christians and Gnostics) and Minim (heretics), but Babylonian rabbis did not . . . Te urgency and persistence with which Palestinian sources orbid contact between Palestinian rabbis on one hand and Minim and Christians on the other suggest strongly that such contact took place and was probably routine . . . Babylonian sources, in contrast, have nothing to say on the subject o the danger o rabbinic contact with Minim and Christians, apparently because such contact was too rare to be considered a problem. Tat contact was rare in Babylonia and relatively common in Palestine was in part because o the relative scarcity o Bible-reading non-Jews and heretics in the Persian Empire. 3
Sussman (above, n. 1), p. 54, n. 176. A similar problem occurs with regard to the phrase “Bei-Nizree” ound three times in the Babylonian almud (Shabbat 116a; Eruvin 80a; Avoda Zara 48a). According to Shabbat 116a, “Bei-Nizree” was a place where discussions o speci�cally religious questions took place. From this source it seems that “Bei-Nizree” was in Samuel’s geographical location in Nehardea. Many suggestions were made in scholarly literature as to the identi�cation o Bei-Nizree. Te most tempting o them was that “Nizree” is related to the word “Nazarene” and that thereore “Bei-Nizree” was connected with Christians. Tis is how the word was understood by J. Neusner, who even concluded rom Shabbat 116a, that Samuel “abhorred Christians” (J. Neusner, A History o the Jews in Babylonia, vol. 2, Leiden 1970, p. 74). Te same etymology was also offered by L. Le, “Bei Avidan u-bei Nizree”, Hehaluz , 2 (1853), pp. 100–101; S. Funk, Die Juden in Babylonien 200–500 , vol. 2, Berlin 1902, p. 53; J. Levy, Wörterbuch Über die almudim und Midraschim, vol. 3, Darmstadt 1963, p. 432. In contrast, S. Krauss, Synagogale Altertümer , Berlin 1922, p. 31 interpreted “Be-Nizree” as reerring to a “special Persian emple.” I. Kuhot Aruch haShalem, vol. 2, New-York 1955, p. 47, interpreted the word in connection with Gnosticism. R. . Herord, Christianity in almud and Midrash , New-Jersey 1966, p. 167, identi�ed it as a place connected with Jewish-Christians. It seems that at the present a determination o the exact identity o this place and the group with whom the rabbis would have debated there must remain uncertain. In any case, any connection o the place with Christians or Jewish Christians seems highly unlikely since the presence o Christians in southern parts o Mesopotamia is known only 80–100 years afer the death o Samuel (see below, n. 9). 3 R. Kalmin, Te Sage in Jewish Society o Late Antiquity , London & New-York 1999, pp. 68–70. See also: R. Kalmin, “Christians and Heretics in Rabbinic Literature o Late Antiquity”, HR, 87 (1994), pp. 155–169. 2
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Te inrequency o Jewish-Christian conrontations among Babylonian sages in general, 4 casts doubt as to any blanket identi�cation o “minim” as Christians in the Babylonian almud.5 II.b
Even i we assume that in these texts “minim” might include Christians, there is no certainty that a comment made by a Nehardean sage was directed at Christians living in his own geographical setting . A polemic can be against a theoretical opponent, in our case against Christian theological views in general. Its setting is not necessarily that o a live conrontation. 6 As we shall see below, in many cases in which an Amora might be seen as addressing Christianity, he is simply quoting a Palestinian tannaitic source, a source which does not necessarily have any bearing on the presence o Christians living in the sage’s immediate environment. ies between Nehardea and Palestinian traditions are already mentioned in tannaitic sources, 7 and elsewhere I have demonstrated the strong dependence o Babylonian rabbis on Palestinian tradition already in the early talmudic period. 8 Tis dependence is maniested in the tannaitic literary collections o Nehardean sages, which are provided with appellations such as “anna D’Bei Shmuel,” “anna D’Bei Levi”, the traditions o Abuha D’Shmuel . Tis study will urther heighten our awareness and appreciation o the in�uence that Palestinian tannaitic traditions had on Babylonian rabbinic study, as
Most cases o rabbinic conrontations with Christians (or other Bible-reading non-Jews) recorded in the Babylonian almud involve Palestinian Amoraim. See: Kalmin, Te Sage (above, n. 3), pp. 73–74. 5 See also: M. Simon, Verus Israel , Oxord 1986, p. 183, who writes, “Te texts in which the minim are explicitly connected with Christianity are in act very ew”. 6 See: I.I. M. Gani, Te Jews o Babylonia in the almudic Era: A Social and Cultural History [Heb.], Jerusalem 1990, p. 150. Gani demonstrated this point in regard to Jewish-Zoroastrian debates in Babylonia. 7 See, or instance: Mishnah, Yevamot 16: 7. ies between the Jewish communities in Nehardea and Palestine are already mentioned by Josephus, see: Antiquities, 18: 312. For urther analysis o these traditions, see: A. Berliner, Geographie und Ethnographie Babyloniens im almud und Midrasch , Berlin 1884, pp. 47–48; S. Funk, Monumenta almudica: Bibel und Babel , Wien und Leipzig 1913, pp. 295–296; A. Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica in the almudic Period, Wiesbaden 1983, pp. 287–288; idem, “Bettei Midrash in Babylon Prior to the Completion o the Mishnah” [Heb.], In: Yeshivot and Battei Midrash (ed. I. Etkes), Jerusalem 2006, pp. 23–27. 8 B. S. Cohen, “In Quest o Babylonian annaitic raditions: Te Case o ‘anna D’bei Shmuel”, AJS Review, 33 (2009), pp. 271–303. 4
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early as the �rst hal o the third century. Te �rst two cases which will be analyzed below are an integral part o this phenomenon. II.c
Te historians who concluded rom talmudic sources that Nehardea had a Christian community in the early talmudic period did not pay enough attention to data ound in Christian sources. Our knowledge concerning the spread o the Syrian Church in southern Mesopotamia during the third century is sketchy, due to the paucity o the data pro vided in Syriac chronicles.9 Nevertheless, the evidence seems to lead to the conclusion that Christians were not active there in the early talmudic period, beore the �fh century. A similar picture emerges in later rabbinic sources. According to the Epistle o R. Sherira Gaon (written in the tenth century 10), Nehardea was in the vicinity o Fīrūz
Te presence o Christian communities in southern Mesopotamia during the Sasanian period is known only rom the �rst hal o the ourth century onwards. See mainly: J. Labourt, Le Christianisme dans L’Empire Perse sous la dynastie Sassanide 225–632, Paris 1904, p. 18 ff.; A. Christensen, L’Iran Sous les Sassanides , Copenhagen 1936, pp. 261–262; J. Neusner, Aphrahat and Judaism: Te Christian-Jewish Argument in Fourth-Century Iran, Leiden 1971, p. 2; S. Brock, “Christians in the Sasanid Empire: A Case o Divided Loyalties”, Religion and National Identity: Studies in Church History XVIII (ed. (ed. S. Mews), Oxord 1982, p. 3; J. P. Asmussen, “Christians in Iran”, CHI , 3 (2), Cambridge, 1983, p. 925, 931; R. N. Frye, Te History o Ancient Iran , Munich 1984, p. 309; N. Koltun-Fromm, “A Jewish-Christian Conversation in Fourth-Century Mesopotamia”, JJS, 47 (1996) 45–63. For a detailed (although not sufficiently critical) geographical survey based on the Syrian chronicles, see: W. A. Wigram, An Introduction to the History o the Assyrian Church (Te Church o the Sasssanid Empire 100– 640), London 1910, p. 7 ff. For an overview o the spread o Christianity in northern Mesopotamia, see: R. L. Mullen, Te Expansion o Christianity: A Gazetteer o its First Tree Centuries, Leiden 2004, pp. 55–59; F. rombley, “Overview: the Geographical Spread o Christianity”, Te Cambridge History o Christianity (ed. M. M. Mitchell, F. M. Young), vol. 1, pp. 309, 311; S. A. Harvey, “Syria and Mesopotamia”, Te Cambridge History o Christianity (above), (above), pp. 351–365. As or Jewish-Christian interaction in these localities, see mainly: J. B. Segal, “Te Jews o North Mesopotamia Beore the Rise o Islam”, Studies in the Bible Presented to Proessor M. H. Segal (ed. J. M. Grints, J. Liver), Jerusalem 1964, pp. 32–63; H. J. W. Drijvers, “Jews and Christians at Edessa”, JJS 36 (1985), pp. 88–102; idem, “Syrian Christianity and Judaism”, Te Jews Among Pagans and Christians in the Roman Empire (ed. J. Lieu, J. North and . Rajak), London 1992, pp. 124–146. 10 On the nature and reliability o this source concerning the history o the talmudic period, see: M. Beer, “ Iyyun B’Iggeret R. Sherira Gaon ,” Bar-Ilan 4–5 (1967), pp. 181–197; Gani (above, n. 6), pp. 239–265; R. Brody, “ Berur Hamekorot Lechronologi yah shel ekuat Hatalmud ,” ,” arbiz 70 (2001), pp. 92–95; A. Cohen, Ravina and Contemporary Sages: Studies in the Chronology o Late Babylonian Amoraim [Heb.], Ramat-Gan 2001, pp. 181–182. 9
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Šāpūr (situated near modern al-Fallūğa), 11 and a rabbinic academy was ounded there by rabbis who abandoned Pumbedita during the persecutions o Hormizd IV (588), at the end o the Sasanian period. 12 According to J. M. Fiey, the �rst Christian Bishop whom we can identiy rom Fīrūz Šāpūr lived during the �rst hal o the �fh century (around the year 420).13 Even J. Obermeyer, who concluded that there was a Christian community in Nehardea and Pumbeditha during the third century (based on B Berakhot 12a—see below), was aware that only rom the �fh century and onward is a Christian presence in the district o Fīrūz Šāpūr �rmly attested.14 Tus the inormation gleaned rom non-rabbinic sources corroborates the statement in Babylonian almud Pesahim 56a, which states explicitly that there were no minim in Nehardea during the amoraic period.15 Tis source reads, “in Nehardea where there are no heretics (minim) until now (ad hashta), they recite it quietly.” Since this state For the location o Fīrūz Šāpūr and its possible identi�cation with the city al-Anbār or Pumbeditha, see: Oppenheimer, Babylonia Judaica, pp. 362–364. In addition to the literature cited by Oppenheimer, see: J. M. Fiey, Assyrie Chrétienne, vol. 3, Beirut 1968, pp. 230–231. 12 R. Sherira describes this rabbinic rabbinic academy (ounded by Rav Mari the son o Rav Dimi) as being near Fīrūz Šāpūr using the ollowing words: “. . . our Rabbis came rom Pumbeditha to the vicinity o Nehardea, [which is located] in the Fīrūz Šāpūr district” (R. Sherira Gaon, Epistle o R. Sherira Gaon , B. M. Lewin, ed., Jerusalem, 1972, p. 99). For urther analysis o the ounding o this academy, see: N. Brüll, “ oldot Yissudo shel ha-almud ha-Bavli Keyetzirah Sirutit ”, ”, Netuim 11–12 (2004), pp. 210; Kaplan, Redaction, pp. 337–342. Based on this text, I. Halevy proposed to identiy Nehardea as Fīrūz Šāpūr (Halevy, dorot hrishonim, vol. 6, p. 38). However, Kaplan noted that the identi�cation o the two is problematic: “o identiy . . . Nehardea as Fīrūz Šāpūr is to disregard the very careul and exact writing o R. Sherira, who in no other instance designates Fīrūz Šāpūr as Nehardea” (Kaplan, Redaction, p. 341). Nevertheless, or the purpose o our argument, whether Fīrūz Šāpūr is indeed al-Anbār, Nehardea or Pumbeditha, has no effect on the conclusion presented below. 13 Fiey (above, n. 11), p. 232, 232, reerring to the bishop Moīse, mentioned in in the 486 Synod. For a urther historical and theological discussion concerning the Christian synods o the eastern church, see: S. Brock, “Te Christology o the Church o the East in the Synods o the Fifh to Early Seventh Centuries: Preliminary Considerations and Materials”, in: Aksum-Tyateira: a Festschrif or Archbishop Methodios (ed. G. Dragas), London 1985, p. 126 14 See: J. Obermeyer, Obermeyer, Die Landschaf Babylonien , Frankurt 1929, pp. 264–265. 15 See: A. Berliner, Beiträge zur Geographie und Ethnographie Babyloniens im almud und Midrasch, Berlin 1884, p. 49; S. Funk, Die Juden in Babylonien 200– 500, Berlin 1902, p. 96; idem, Monumenta almudica: Bibel und Babel , Vienna & Leipzig 1913, p. 296; Obermeyer (above, n. 14), p. 264; S, Kraus, Paras ve-Romi ba-almud uva-Midrashim, Jerusalem 1947, p. 87; I. H. Weis, Dor Dor ve-Dorshav , vol. 1, Jerusalem-el-Aviv 1964, p. 221; A. Neubauer, La Géographie du almud, Hildesheim 1967, p. 351; Urbach, Sages, p. 401. 11
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ment in the text is to be attributed to the “stamaim” 16—the post-amoraic stratum o the almud17—then it indeed matches the inormation ound in Christian sources. And even i the minim reerred to in this source are not exclusively Christians, at the least the source would include Christians,18 and by implication it would testiy to the absence o Christians in Nehardea during the talmudic period. In summary, neither Christian nor Jewish sources support the thesis that Nehardea (or its surroundings) had a Christian community during the third and ourth century.19 Methodologically speaking, it is important to note that the burden o proo or the existence o a Christian-Jewish live contact or debate rests on those who make such a claim. III We now turn our attention to the talmudic passages most commonly used by scholars as proo o Christian-Jewish contact and even debate in Nehardea during the amoraic period. Te �rst such passage is B Berakhot 12a, which A. Berliner, Solomon Funk, Isaac Halevy, Adol Neubauer and Jacob Obermeyer all used as an indication that Concerning the identi�cation o this statement as “stammaitic”, see: see: Z. Fraenkel, Mavo, p. 59b; Halivni, Sources and raditions : ractates Erubin and Pesahim, Jerusalem 1982, pp. 440–441. 17 On the dating o the anonymous stratum ( stammaim) o the Babylonian almud as post-amoraic literature, see: S. Friedman, almud Arukh: B Bava Metzi’a VI (Critical Edition with Comprehensive Commentary) [Heb.], New-York 1996, pp. 21–23; D. Halivni, Midrash, Mishnah, and Gemara , Cambridge, MA 1986, pp. 76–104; idem, “Aspects o the Formation o the almud”, In: Creation and Composition: Te Contribution o the Bavli Redactors (Stammaim) to the Aggada (J. L. Rubenstein, ed.), übingen 2005, pp. 339–360; R. Kalmin, “Te Formation and Character o the Babylonian almud”, Te Cambridge History o Judaism , vol. IV, Cambridge 2006, pp. 840–876; A. Cohen, “Te Saboraic Halakhah in Light o bKiddushin 2a–3b and the Geonic radition”, Diné Israel , 24 (2007) [Heb.], pp. 161–214. 18 Te term “minim” in later periods had a more general meaning and reerred to all kinds o heretics (including Christians). See, or instance: Simon (above, n. 5), p. 183; Zussman (above adj. to n. 2; R. Kimelman, “Birkat Ha-Minim and the Lack evidence or an Anti-Christian Jewish Prayer in Late Antiquity”. In: Jewish and Christian Sel-De�nition (ed. E. P. Sanders; A. I. Baumgarten; A. Mendelson), Philadelphia 1981, 230–232. Similarly, our passage in Pesahim 56a rom the post-amoraic era (see above) might have a general meaning, which includes Christians as well. 19 It is important to emphasize that some scholars question whether Babylonian Jews would have elt threatened by Christians and in response would have needed to debate theological matters with them. See, or instance: Kaplan, Redaction, pp. 342–343; E. Urbach, Te World o the Sages: Collected Studies [Heb.], Jerusalem 2002, p. 559; Ahdut (above, n. 1), p. 39. 16
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mid-ourth century Nehardea had a large Christian community. Tis source reads: And they recite the en Commandments and the Shema . . . [Tey would bless the people with the ollowing three blessings:) “ emet veyatziv ,” ,” [the blessing o the] emple service, and the blessings o the priests. [= Mishnah amid 5:1] R. Judah said in the name o Samuel: Outside the emple they also wanted to do the same (to say the en Commandments beore the Shema), but they were stopped rom doing so because o the arguments o the heretics (minim). Similarly it has been taught in a baraiata ( anya Nami Hakhi): R. Nathan says: Outside the emple they also wanted to do the same but they were stopped rom doing so because o the arguments o the heretics (minim). . . . . Amemar attempted to institute it (the recitation o en Commandments beore the Shema) in Nehardea, but Rav Ashi said to him: they were stopped rom doing so because o the arguments o the heretics (minim).20
In this source Amemar, a prominent Nehardean sage who lived in the second hal o the ourth century and the beginning o the �fh, 21 attempts to reinstitute the recitation o the en Commandments beore the Shema, but Rav Ashi prevents him rom doing so. Te academic scholars mentioned above assumed that Rav Ashi’s negative response had to do with his ear o the potential response o Christians living in Nehardea during the ourth century.22 However, this interpretation is doubtul or several reasons. First o all, as I stated in my introduction above, the identi�cation o minim as Christians is ar rom certain. E. Urbach,23 G. Vermes24 and M. Benowitz25 all reject this identi�cation, mainly because Christians were Te last section, “Amemar—heretics,” is absent in Paris 671 and Oxord Opp. Add. Fol. 23, almost certainly as a result o a homioteleuton. 21 See recently: A. Shahak, Amemar and his Methods o Halachic Decisions [Heb.], Master’s Tesis, Bar-Ilan University, Ramat-Gan 2002, pp. 3–5. 22 See: Berliner (above, n. 15), p. 49; Funk, Die Juden (above, n. 15), p. 96; idem, Monumenta (above, n. 15), p. 296; Obermeyer (above, n. 14), 264, n. 4; Neubauer (above, n. 15), p. 351; Halevy, Dorot , vol. 6, p. 38. 23 E. E. Urbach, “Te Place o the en Commandments in Ritual and Prayer” [Heb.], Te en Commandments as Re�ected in radition and Literature Troughout the Ages, (ed. B. Segal), Jerusalem 1985, pp. 132–133. 24 G. Vermes, “Te Decalogue and the Minim”, In Memoriam Paul Kahle (ed. M. Black, G. Fohrer), Berlin 1968, pp. 232–240. 25 M. Benovitz, B Berakhot, Chapter I: With Comprehensive Commentary [Heb.], [Heb.], Jerusalem 2006, p. 566. 20
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never known to have claimed that only the en Commandments were divinely given. Indeed, the rabbis had originally orbidden the recitation o the en Commandments because, as Vermes and Benowitz have argued,26 the minim reerred to here were Hellenistic Jews, who interpreted the Bible literally and claimed that only the en Commandments were binding, since only they were given by God. Furthermore, Rav Ashi is not reerring to actual heretics living in his own time. Rather he is echoing a Palestinian tradition quoted in the above source by Rabbi Nathan and in the ollowing parallel tradition rom the Palestinian almud, Berakhot 1:5, 3c: It would be right to recite the en Commandments every day. Why then do they not recite them? Because o the claim o the minim: so that they may not say, “only these were given to Moses on Sinai.”
In anticipation o potential theological claims, which could have been advanced by minim, the rabbis o Palestine omitted the recital o the en Commandments, which, in emple times, was part o the prayer service. Rav Ashi, quoting this tradition, disagreed with Amemar’s attempt to reinstitute the practice in Nehardea.27 Tere is no reason, thereore, to interpret Rav Ashi’s objection as directed against a Christian community that existed in Nehardea in his time. 28 Indeed, the very act that Amemar wanted to restore the recitation o the en See above, above, n. 24–25. Tis interpretation accords with Amemar’s typical methodology and manner o halakhic ruling. Amemar is known or his daring halakhic rulings, rulings which at times deviate rom biblical or tannaitic law. His �exible approach to Halakhah is attested to in more than 90% o the cases (20 cases) in which he issues a ruling. All o these are lenient, exhibiting a tendency to take into consideration the conditions and circumstances o the speci�c case under discussion. In nine cases he even rejects the conventional law by replying to his pupil, Rav Ashi: “I have not heard o it; meaning, I do not �nd it reasonable” (Ketubbot 83b; Ketubbot 97a; Baba Batra 13b; Hullin 53b; Hullin 62a). Concerning this expression see: A. Cohen, “On the Phrase ‘ ’ in the Babylonian almud” [Heb.], arbiz , 53 (1984), pp. 467–472. In three other occasions Amemar rules contrary to a local Nehardean tradition by saying: “[in spite o the act that] I am a Nehardean, I hold [an opinion which is contrary to Nehardean sages]” (Baba Mezia 16b: Baba Mezia 35a: Baba Batra 31a). Tis approach to halakhah is unique to Amemar among late amoraim. For urther analysis o Amemar’s halakhic methodology, see: B. S. Cohen, “Contrasting Study Methods o the Latter Nehardeans in the Babylonian almud’ [Heb.], Hebrew Union College Annual , 78 (2007) [in print]. 28 Similarly uncertain is the identi�cation o the minim in B Sanhedrin 38b. In this source, Rav Nahman, a Nehardean sage rom the second hal o the third century, praises Rav Idit’s personal skill in arguing with the “minim”. Although many 26 27
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Commandments might imply that the heretics ound in Palestine were absent rom Nehardea. In other words, instead o proving pr oving the existence o a strong Christian community in Nehardea, this text actually shows that Amemer was not threatened by any Christian presence at all. 29 IV Te ollowing passage rom Babylonian almud Bava Batra 25a has been requently used by scholars as a basis or the conclusion that Rav Sheshet, who headed a local academy in Nehardea during the third century,30 had personal contact with Christians and reacted to one o their daily practices: R. Ishmael taught: From where do we know that the Shechinah is in all places? Because it says: “ And behold, the angel that talked with me went orth, and another angel went out to meet him” (Zechariah 2:7). It does not say: “[went out] afer him”, but “ went went out to meet him”. Tis teaches that the Shechinah is in all places. So too R. Sheshet held that the Shechinah is in all places, because [beore beginning to pray] he used to say to his attendant: set me acing in any direction except the east. And this was not because the Shechinah is not there, but because the minim31 instruct [people to pray] in that direction.
R. Sheshet was blind and hence when praying he would instruct his attendant to direct him in any direction except to the east because “the minim instruct to that side.” In printed editions o the almud this line appears as an addendum to the sugya and not as R. Sheshet’s actual words. However, Oxord 249 (369) and Paris 1337 read: “he [= R. Sheshet] used to say to his attendant: Set me acing any direction except or the east because the minim instruct to that side”. Tis verscholars identi�ed these “minim” with Christians, Ahdut has argued recently that these ‘minim” were Zoroastrians. See: Ahdut (above, n. 1), pp. 32–34. 29 See E. E. Urbach, Te Sages: Teir Concepts and Belies, Massachusetts & London 2001, p. 402. 30 See: B. S. Cohen, “Local Academies in almudic Babylonia” [Heb.], Zion, 70 (2005), pp. 448–458. 31 In the Venice printed edition the word “minim” is replaced by “talmidey Yeshu (= the pupils o Jesus). Rashi, ibid., s.v. demoru ba miney identi�es identi�es the “minim” as as the ollowing: “the pupils o Jesus instruct to pray acing the east”. It is quite possible that the printers used Rashi’s very wording to emend the original text. Tis phenomena (in general) was well demonstrated by A. Ahrend, see: A. Ahrend, Rashi’s Commentary on ractate Megilah [Heb.], Jerusalem 2008, pp. 80–82.
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sion is also attested in the commentary o R. Hannanel, and it is ound in the Pesaro (1511 A.D.) and Venice (1520 A.D.) printed editions o the almud. In this version, which seems to be the original one, the phrase, “because the minim instruct to that side,” is part o Rav Sheshet’s words to his attendant, and not a later editorial addition. Wilhelm Bacher identi�ed these “minim” as Manichaeans32 and argued that this tradition teaches us about the “controversial relations” between Rav Sheshet and the members o this religion: Schescheth scheint zu den Menichäern in polemischen Beziehungen gestanden zu haben.33
It does indeed seem that the Manichaean church was well established in the eastern parts o Mesopotamia during the second hal o the third century, especially by the time o king Šābur’s death (C.E. 276). 34 However, there are two main problems with Bacher’s suggestion. First o all, we must note that Manichaeans did not pray to the east, but rather towards the sun, whatever its position in the sky at the time o day they were praying.35 Second, even i we assume that Rav Sheshet was reerring to the direction in which Manichaeans would have prayed in the morning, the same practice is also ound among Zoroastrians. 36 Tere is no reason to assume that Rav Sheshet was reerring speci�cally to the Manichaean church and not to the Zoroastrianism, which was, afer all, the state religion o the Sasanian Empire.37
See: W. Bacher, Die Agada der Babylonischen Amoräer , Hildesheim 1967, p. 78, n. 12. 33 Bacher, ibid. 34 See mainly: M. Boyce, A Reader in Manichaean Middle Persian and Parthian (exts with Notes), Leiden 1975, pp. 1–2; M. Hutter, ‘Manichaeism in the Early Sasanian Empire’, Numen, 40 (1993), pp. 2–12; S. N. C. Lieu, Manichaeism in Mesopotamia and the Roman East , Leiden 1994, p. 22; S. A. Harvey, ‘Syria and Mesopotamia’, pp. 360–361. On the spread o Manichaeism in eastern regions see: S. N. C. Lieu, Manichaeism in the Late Roman Empire and Medieval China, übingen 1992, pp. 219–230. 35 See: F. J. Dölger, Sol Salutis, Münster 1925, p. 28; Boyce (above, n. 34), p. 12. See also: Urbach, Sages, p. 709, n. 99. 36 See or instance: M. Boyce, A Persian Stronghold o Zoroastrianism , Oxord 1977, p. 29; idem, extual Sources or the Study o Zoroastrianism , Chicago 1990, p. 3; A. De-Jong, raditions o the Magi: Zoroastrianism in Greek and Latin Literature , Leiden 1998, p. 99. 37 L. Ginzberg, Perushim we-Hidushim ba-Yerushalmi, vol. 3, N.Y. 1941, p. 375, ollowed by U. Erlich, Te Non-Verbal Language o Jewish Prayer [Heb.], Jerusalem 1999, p. 92, doubt the very possibility o arriving at a speci�c identi�cation o the “minim” in this tradition. 32
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E. E. Urbach identi�ed the “minim” in in this passage as Christians: Christianity in Egypt and in Western countries accepted in the second century a prayer-orientation to the east, taking into account the widespread practice in prayer among the Gentiles who had become Christians, and in the third century it became universal in the Christian world even in eastern countries . . . Rav Sheshet . . . told his servant to position him or prayer acing whichever direction he pleased, but he excluded the east, ‘because the sectarians teach this’. In light o the observations that we made above, there can be no doubt as to who the sectarians were that gave such instructions. 38
As indicated by Urbach, already rom the mid third century, the Assyrian church indeed had a �xed prayer orientation towards the east.39 Nevertheless, in spite o the similarity between Christian practice and that o the “minim” according to Rav Sheshet, it is ar rom certain that Rav Sheshet was reerring to actual Christians living in geographical proximity to him. Again, we ace the methodological problem o not knowing whether a rabbi is reerring to actual heretics, with whom he is personally amiliar, or whether he is echoing sources rom other places and other times. Te prohibition o directing one’s prayer towards the east is well attested in Palestinian sources, and was widely known throughout Babylonia as well. Te ollowing tradition rom Palestinian almud Berakhot 4:5 (8b) demonstrates this point: R. Jacob bar Aha said: Tey teach there (tannei taman): One may ace any direction (to recite a prayer), except the east. R. Yose bar Abun said: at �rst [in ancient times they prayed]: “With their backs to the emple o the lord and their aces eastward, and they bowed eastward toward the sun” (Ezekiel, 8:16).
R. Jacob bar Aha was a Palestinian sage40 o Babylonian origin41 who lived at the end o the third and the beginning o the ourth centuries. In this source, he cites a tannaitic tradition which he claims to be taught “there,” meaning in Babylonia. R. Jacob is well-known in the Palestinian almud or transmitting other baraitot which are “taught in Babylonia.”42 It can be assumed that he was amiliar with these
Urbach, Sages, pp. 62–63. See: R. H. Connolly (ed.), Didascalia Apostolatum (Te Syriac Version ranslated and Accompanied by the Verona Latin Fragments), Oxord 1969, pp. 119–120. 40 See: Hyman, oldot , 2, p. 774; Albeck, Mavo, p. 249. 41 See: Epstein, Introduction to the Mishnaic ext , vol. 2, Jerusalem 2000, p. 891. 42 See: Epstein (above, (above, n. 41), pp. 891–892. 38 39
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baraitot by virtue o coming rom Babylonia. 43 Rav Sheshet, the bearer o the tradition in the Bavli, was well recognized or his mastery o tannaitic literature, and in my comprehensive study o sage, I have argued that Rav Sheshet’s methodology eatures a conservative and ormal approach, which is consistently based on tannaitic sources.44 Tis reinorces the presumptionthat Rav Sheshet’s instruction to his servant was based on a tannaitic tradition—the same tradition cited by R. Jacob bar Aha. I so, we cannot assume with certainty that Rav Sheshet was responding to the presence o a Christian community in Nehardea. Furthermore, rom this Palestinian source we can see that whether the prohibition against praying toward the east stems rom Babylonian, 45 or Palestine,46 it is likely that the “minim” in Rav Sheshet’s statement are the biblical “heretics” mentioned in the book o Ezekiel. 47 As is sometimes the case, we should understand rabbis here as responding to the literary reality o biblical history and characters, and not necessarily to actual people, in this case Christians, living in their own time and region. Finally and perhaps most importantly, according to Christian sources, Christianity did not reach Nehardea until more than one hundred years afer Rav Sheshet. Hence, it seems quite improbable that there was a Christian community in Nehardea in Rav Sheshet’s time (the second hal o the third century). 48 with which he could have had personal contact.
Most o the baraitot in the Palestinian almud which are introduced by this term (‘tannei taman’ ) are cited by amoraim o Babylonian origin. For a ull analysis o these traditions, see: Epstein (above, n. 41), pp. 891–897. 44 See: B. S. Cohen, Cohen, “Rav Naman and Rav Sheshet: Con�icting Methods o Exegesis Exegesis o annaitic Sources” [Heb.], HUCA, 76 (2005), pp. 11–32. 45 See: Epstein (above, (above, n. 41), p H. Albeck, Mehkarim Babraita Bab raita Ubaosefa Veyahsan Laalmud , Jerusalem 1970, pp. 86–87 46 See osefa Megilah Megilah 3: 22 (ed. Lieberman, p. 360): “Te doors o synagogues open open only eastward, or so we �nd concerning the sanctuary that it was open eastward . . .” Tis is also con�rmed by archaeological evidence, see S. Sarai, ‘Te Synagogues South o M. Judah’, Immanuel , 3 (1973–1974), pp. 44–56; G. Praster, ‘Batei ha-Knesset baGalil’, Artzot ha-Galil (ed. (ed. A. Shmueli, A. Soer, N. Cliot), Haia 1983, p. 237. 47 Sun worship existed in Judea in late neo-Assyrian times, as well as in the ancient near east in general. See, or instance: M. Greenberg, Ezekiel: A New ranslation with Introduction and Commentary , vol. 1, Doubleday 1983, p. 172; R. Kasher, Ezekiel: Introduction and Commentary [Heb.], vol. 1, Jerusalem-el Aviv, 2004, p. 253. 48 See above, adj. to n. 9. 43
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Te ollowing source rom B Avodah Zarah 4a dealing with Rav Sara—a Babylonian Amora who lived in Nehardea and Pumbedita (see below)—has been presented by some scholars as evidence or Christian presence in Babylonia: Rabbi Abbahu used to praise Rav Sara to the minim [saying] that he was a great man. Tey released him rom paying taxes or thirteen years. One day they met him. Tey said to him: “It is written: Only you have I known rom all o the amilies o the earth; thereore I will visit upon you all your sins” ( Amos 3:2). One who is enraged, does he punish his lover? He was silent, and did not say anything to them. Tey drew a scar around him and were mocking him. Rabbi Abbahu came and ound them. He said to them: “Why are you mocking him?” Tey said to him: “Did you not say that he is a great man, yet he could not even tell us the interpretation o this verse!” He said to them: “Tat which I said to you has to do with tannaitic literature, but with respect to Scripture, I did not say anything.” Tey said to him: “What is the difference with respect to you that you know [Scripture also]?” He said to them: “We who are located in your midst, take it upon ourselves and we study [Scripture], but they who are not located in your midst—do not study”.
Tis story contradicts the general assumption in scholarly literature that Christianity was well established in all parts o Babylonia as early as the ourth century, and that Babylonian Jews and Christians engaged in religious polemics on a daily basis. Aware o this contradiction, A. Schremer cast doubt as to the historical accuracy o this source. 49 D. Boyarin went even urther, reaching the ollowing conclusion: We �nd the almud here explicitly denying that in Babylonia the Rabbis were “located in the midst” o Christians. In general, in the scholarly tradition this has been taken as straightorward evidence that the rabbis o Babylonia had no Christians with whom to contend, but now I would see its rhetorical unction as quite different rom that straightorward reading, indeed almost as evidence or the opposite conclusion.50
Contrary to Schremer and Boyarim, in my opinion this tradition is indeed rooted in actual history. Rav Sara was a Babylonian Amora A. Schremer, “Stammaitic Historiography”, in Creation and Composition (above n. 19), p. 224. 50 D. Boyarin, “Hellenism in Jewish Babylonian”, Te Cambridge Companion to the almud and Rabbinic Literature (ed. C. E. Fonrobert and M. S. Jaffe), Cambridge 2007, p. 357. 49
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who lived during the second hal o the third and beginning o the ourth centuries51 in both Nehardea and Pumbedita .52 Rav Sara is depicted in the Babylonian almud as maintaining personal contacts mainly with Nehardean and Pumbeditan Sages—Rav Joseph, 53 Rav Nahman,54 Rabbah and Abaye.55 Te act that Rav Sara was centered in Nehardea and Pumbedita, and in those areas he did not come into contact with Christians, matches my conclusion as presented above with regard to the absence o Christians rom those regions. In other words, rather than assume that all o Babylonia was a center o Christianity in this period, an assumption that subsequently orces us to question the historicity o this source, we can acknowledge that the source re�ects the scarcity o Christians in certain areas o Babylonia.56 Te Bavli states speci�cally that R. Sara, who was active in both Pumbedita and Nehardea, was not an expert in Scripture, because he had little contact with Christians. Tis act correlates well both with the talmudic evidence in Pesahim 56a and the evidence in the Christian chronicles. IV Scholars tend to understand amoraic sayings and homiletics against a background o daily contact and disputation with Christians, and at times this approach is indeed justi�ed. However, the conclusion that Concerning dating Rav Sara’s activity in Babylonia, see: Hyman, oldot , vol. 3, pp. 966–969; Albeck, Mavo, p. 302. 52 Rav Sheshet reerred to Rav Sara in Rav Nahman’s presence as “Sara your colleague (Sara haverkha )” (B Bekhorot 10b). Rav Nahman headed an academy in Nehardea during the second hal o the third century (see mainly: Albeck, Mavo, pp. 298–299; Cohen, “Local Academies”, pp. 470–471, n. 168). Similarly, Rabbah, head o the academy in Pumbedita ( Seder anaim veAmoraim , p. 5: Iggeret Rav Sherira Gaon , p. 86) reers to Rav Sara as “our colleague ( Sara Havrin)” (B Shabbat 70a). 53 B Hullin 133a. 54 B Shabat 70a. 55 B Eruvin 45b; 103a; Betzah 38b; Yoma 11a; Sanhedrin 41b; Hullin 51a; Bekhorot 4a. It seems likely that Rav Sara died in Pumbedita, see Hyman, oldot, vol. 3, p. 969 (based on B Moed Katan 25a). 56 In general, not all o the rabbis in Babylonia were amiliar with Biblical verses. Tis phenomenon was already noted by the osa�sts who wrote: “Sometimes they [= the rabbis] were not amiliar with Biblical verses” ( osa�sts, B Baba Batra 113a, s.v. “eravaihu”). It was urther documented by D. Rosenthal, “ Al Derekh ipulam shel Hazal beHiluey Nosah baMikra ”, Seer Izhak Aryeh Zeligman (ed. Y. Zakovich and A. Roe), Jerusalem 1983, pp. 396–397. o Rosenthal’s list o cases add B Sukkah 52b. 51
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Nehardean sages argued with Christians or even co-existed with them in the same geographical region has no textual justi�cation. Many o the texts that have been adduced to support this conclusion are better understood in light o the tremendous impact o Palestinian rabbinic traditions upon Babylonian rabbinic study. Furthermore, in estimating the degree o contact Jews and Christians in Babylonia, we should not treat Babylonia as one uniorm region; rather we would do best to examine each geographical location separately and to avoid generalizing on the basis o inormation relevant to only one place and time. In conclusion, the detailed evidence that I have analysed here seems to support and leads to the acceptance o Asmussen’s proposal that, “One should be cautious . . . in assessing the extent and in�uence o these �rst [= Christian—B.S.C.] communities, and even more so in evaluating the missionary activities in the Euphrates-igris area”.57
57
Asmussen (above, n. 9), p. 924.
REPRÉSENAIONS E ARAIS DU CHRISIANISME DANS LES SOURCES ALMUDIQUES. PROPOSIION D’UN NOUVEAU PARADIGME Dan Jaffé Le dossier relati aux relations entre le judaïsme rabbinique et les judéo-chrétiens comprend un passage considéré comme locus classicus. Il s’agit d’un texte talmudique qui relate l’arrestation de R. Eliézer ben Hyrcanus à une époque de persécutions romaines, probablement sous le principat de l’empereur rajan. Bien que ce passage paradigmatique ait béné�cié de nombreux travaux, orce est de constater que les aspects liés à ce que l’on pourrait appeler le caractère implicite du texte n’a pas à ce jour, béné�cié d’une quelconque audience. Dans la présente étude, les deux problématiques qui retiendront notre attention sont relatives en premier lieu au concept de représentation du christianisme dans les sources talmudiques palestiniennes ou babyloniennes, et en second lieu, à l’idée d’attrait que le christianisme a pu exercer sur le judaïsme. Ayant traité par ailleurs de ce texte selon l’approche historico-critique diachronique, nous proposons à présent une nouvelle approche de lecture s’orientant vers un changement de paradigme.1 Les questions auxquelles nous entendons essayer d’apporter des pistes de ré�exion peuvent se résumer en trois points : Ce texte évoque-t-il un état de rapprochements entre juis rabbiniques et juis messianiques ?2 Quelle est la nature de la représentation du christianisme véhiculée par ce texte ? Et en�n, pourquoi a-t-on trouver opportun de l’introduire dans le corpus talmudique ? Voir nos travaux en D. Jaffé, Le judaïsme et l’avènement du christianisme. Orthodoxie et hétérodoxie dans la littérature talmudique I er –II e siècle, Paris, p. 117–177 ; D. Jaffé, Le almud et les origines juives du christianisme. Jésus, Paul et les judéo-chrétiens dans la littérature talmudique, Paris, 2007, p. 61–71. Soulignons que l’interprétation proposée dans la présente contribution n’in�rme en rien nos précédents travaux mais les complète selon de nouvelles perspectives. En effet, il s’agit davantage d’une nouvelle approche possible que d’une nouvelle approche dé�nitive. 2 Par l’expression « juis messianiques » que nous n ous considérons dans ce contexte comme antagoniste à celle de « juis rabbiniques », il aut entendre juis croyant en la messianité de Jésus. 1
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La première version de ce passage est palestinienne et se trouve en osefa Hulin II, 24 :3 Evénement concernant R. Eliézer qui ut arrêté à cause des paroles de minuth et qui ut conduit au tribunal pour y être jugé. Le hegmon4 lui dit : Un vieillard comme toi s’occupe de ces choses ? Il lui répondit : J’ai con�ance en celui qui me juge. Ainsi le procurateur pensa qu’il parlait de lui, alors qu’il parlait de son Père céleste. Le procurateur lui dit : Du ait que tu aies cru en moi, car je disais, est-il possible que ces anciens 5 se trompent dans ces utilités ? Dimissus, tu es libre6. Lorsque R. Eliézer ut relâché du tribunal, il s’affligea, du ait qu’il avait été arrêté à cause des paroles de minuth. Ses disciples vinrent le trouver a�n de le consoler, mais il n’accepta aucune consolation. Alors R. Aqiba entra et lui dit : Maître, je voudrais te dire quelque chose. Peutêtre ne te troubleras-tu plus. Il lui dit : Parle. Celui-ci reprit : Peut-être un des minim t’a dit une parole de minuth qui t’a procuré du plaisir. 7 Il lui dit : u as évoqué un souvenir en moi. Un jour, je me promenais sur la route de Sepphoris. J’y rencontrais Jacob de Kear Siknin qui me dit une parole de minuth au nom de Yeshua ben Pantiri. Et elle m’a plu, et Ed. M. S. Zuckermandel, p. 503. hegemon signi�e « guide » ou encore « dirigeant », dans ce contexte, il peut s’agir du procurateur romain ayant, entre autres, une responsabilité législative. Le Yalquth Chim’oni, Michée 1, et Proverbes 5, 8 mentionne (sar), « prince ». 5 Dans le manuscrit Erurt (Berlin, Orientabteilung der Staatsbibliothek Staatsbibliothek n° 2, 1220), nous lisons : ; dans le manuscrit de Vienne (Nationalbibliothek, Wien heb, 20, catalogue de Schwartz n° 46), dans celui de Londres (Bri. Mus. Add. 27, 296) ainsi que dans la première édition de la osefa (Compendium almudique d’Alasi, V, p. 1521) nous trouvons ; le terme est difficilement traduisible, nous suivons la traduction donnée par M. Jastrow, Dictionary o the almud. A Dictionary o the ar gumim, the almud Babli and Yerushalmi Ye rushalmi and the Midrashic Mid rashic Literature, Philadelphie, 1903, p. 974, qui cite notre texte. Pour une semblable traduction, voir les remarques de S. Lieberman, oseeth Rishonim , t. II, p. 227 ; S. Lieberman, Greek and Hellenism in Jewish Palestine , Jérusalem, 1984, p. 17 n. 40 (heb). Cette traduction semble être corroborée par le terme �gurant dans Qoheleth Rabba I, 8. 6 On peut se demander pourquoi R. Eliezer n’a pas clairement proclamé sa non appartenance au mouvement des adeptes juis de Jésus. On sait en effet par Pline le Jeune que le seul ait d’abjurer la croyance en Jésus suffisait pour être relaxé (voir Pline le jeune, Lettres. Panégyrique de rajan, Livre X, lettre 96 [trad. M. Durry, Paris, 1947, p. 73–75]). Les motis qui ont permis la libération de R. Eliézer ne sont pas clairs, du ait justement qu’il ne plaide absolument pas sa cause ; ce qui d’ailleurs d’ ailleurs est pour le moins troublant. Voir sur ce point S. Lieberman, « Roman Legal Institutions in Early Rabbinics and the Acta Martyrum », dans Jewish Quarterly Review 35 (1944–1945), p. 22–24, et spécialement p. 23 n. 150 (= S. Lieberman, exts and Studies, New-York, 1974, p. 76–82). 7 Dans la version version du Midrash Qoheleth Rabba I, 8 la nature de la parole n’est pas précisée. Dans la version tardive du Yalquth Chim’oni, Michée, 1 ; Proverbes, 5, 8, apiqorsuth et non pas minuth. Ce texte médiéval a nous trouvons certainement subi la censure chrétienne, ce qui expliquerait la substitution entre les deux termes. 3 4
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ainsi je us arrêté pour paroles de minuth, car j’ai transgressé l’Ecriture : « Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère, ne t’approche pas de l’entrée de sa maison » (Pr 5, 8)8 « Car nombreuses sont les victimes dont elle a causé la chute, et ceux qu’elle a ait périr sont oule » (Pr 7, 26). Ainsi, R. Eliézer avait coutume de dire : « Que toujours l’homme uie la laideur, et ce qui ressemble à la laideur ». 9
La seconde version est babylonienne et se trouve mentionnée sous la orme d’une Baraïta en Abodah Zarah 16b–17a : Nos maîtres ont enseigné : Lorsque R. Eliézer a été arrêté pour minuth on le �t comparaître devant un tribunal, pour le juger. Le procurateur lui dit : Est-ce qu’un vieillard comme toi doit s’occuper de telles niaiseries ? Il répondit : J’ai con�ance en celui qui me juge. Ainsi le procurateur pensa qu’il parlait de lui, alors qu’il parlait de son Père céleste. Le procurateur lui dit : Puisque tu as eu con�ance en moi, Dimissus, tu es libre. Quand il ut retourné chez lui, ses disciples vinrent à lui a�n de le consoler, mais il ne voulut pas accepter leurs consolations. R. Aqiba lui dit : Permets-moi de te parler d’une des choses que tu m’as enseignées. Il lui répondit : Parle. Il dit : Maître, peut-être as tu entendu une parole de minuth et cette parole t’a occasionné du plaisir, et c’est pourquoi tu as été arrêté. Il répondit : Aqiba, tu m’en as ait souvenir. Un jour pendant lequel je parcourais le marché supérieur de Sepphoris, j’y rencontrais un des disciples de Yéshu ha notsri10 et Jacob de Kear Seh’anya était son nom. Il me dit : Il est écrit dans votre Loi : « u n’apporteras point
Notons que l’on retrouve de nouveau nouveau ce verset à propos des minim en Abot de Rabbi Nathan, 2/a ; 3/b (Ed. S. Schechter, p. 13) : « Quelles sont les restrictions qu’ont ait les écrits ( ketubim) à leurs paroles ? Il est dit : Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère, étr angère, ne t’approche pas de l’entrée de sa maison. Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère ; il s’agit de la minuth car on dit : Ne te rends pas chez les minim et ne rentre pas là-bas de peur que tu ne te ourvoies. Si tu penses être sûr de toi, et que tu dises : Bien que j’y entre, je ne me ourvoierai pas ; même si tu en viens à te rétracter et à dire : J’écoute leurs paroles et je change d’attitude, le almud enseigne : Aucun de ceux qui vont chez elle ne revient, incapable de retrouver le chemin de la vie » (Pr 2, 19). Ce texte anonyme ustige sans ambages les contacts avec la minuth, et ce jusqu’au point de reuser toute orme de rémission. 9 Cette expression a véhiculé diverses interprétations, entre autres celle de la transgression religieuse et des conséquences qui lui sont attachées. C’est en ce sens que nous la trouvons en Abot de Rabbi Nathan, 2/a (Ed. S ; Schechter, p. 9) ; Derekh Erets Rabba, V, 12 (Ed. M. Higger , p. 63) ; Midrash annaïm al Sepher Devarim, 22, 5 (Ed. D. Hoffman, p.134) ; et . Yebamot , IV, 7 (Ed. M. S. Zuckermandel, p. 245). Voir sur cette dernière occurrence S. Lieberman, osefa Ki-Fshutah, p. 34. Dans notre texte, cette expression n’est plus relative au ait de se prémunir de la transgression d’un précepte religieux, mais concerne plutôt l’éloignement à avoir envers une personne tenue pour ignominieuse. 10 Les mots (mitalmidé yéshu hanotsri ) désignant Jésus ne �gurent pas dans les éditions courantes du almud du ait de la censure chrétienne. En revanche, ils apparaissent dans certains manuscrits tels Munich 95, Paris Suppl. Heb. 8
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��� ����� dans la maison de Dieu, comme offrande votive d’aucune sorte, le salaire d’une courtisane . . . » (Dt 23, 19). Que doit-on en aire ? Est-il permis de l’utiliser a�n de aire construire des lieux d’aisance pour le grand prêtre ? Et je ne répondis rien. Il me dit : Yéshu hanotsri11 m’a appris ceci : « C’est le salaire d’une courtisane, il retournera à la courtisane » (Mi 1, 7), ce qui q ui provient d’un lieu d’immondices retourne à un lieu d’immondices. Et cette parole m’a plu et c’est à cause d’elle que j’ai été arrêté pour minuth. Et j’ai transgressé ce qui est écrit dans la Loi : « Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère, c’est la minuth, ne t’approche pas de l’entrée de sa maison, c’est l’autorité ».
Avant d’entrer dans l’analyse des questions posées, il convient de relever un élément qui a peu suscité l’attention de la critique : il s’agit de la ormule il est écrit dans votre loi ( ). Soulignons que ce texte – dont il est difficile de déterminer les aspects propres et l’authenticité historique – apporte néanmoins des éclairages sur l’époque des protagonistes qui y sont présents, et sur celle des rédactions r édactions successives auxquelles il a donné lieu. A ce niveau, l’expression témoigne du regard de l’époque de la rédaction de ce passage sur le christianisme. On trouve opportun de placer ces mots dans la bouche de ce Jacob qui tient lieu ici de représentation typologique du christianisme. Il est en effet difficile de présumer qu’à l’époque de R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus, à la �n du Ier/début du II e siècle, un adepte jui du mouvement de Jésus ait pu prononcer une telle ormule. A une époque si reculée, ces juis messianiques se dé�nissaient et urent certainement dé�nis comme juis à part entière ; ils ne urent donc aucunement chrétiens. La loi est donc commune aux deux groupes, en revanche, quelques siècles plus tard, une telle ormulation provenant du monde jui à l’égard du christianisme est pleinement envisageable. Elle témoigne de la compréhension et du regard des Sages envers le christianisme.12 1337 et Jewish Teological Seminary Rab. 15. Voir R. Rabbinovicz, Diqduqé Soerim. Variae Lectiones in Mishnam et in almud Babylonicum, New-York, 1960, p. 36–41. 11 Ces mots n’apparaissent pas dans les éditions classiques, ils sont sont cependant mentionnés dans les manuscrits Munich 95, Paris Suppl. Heb 1337, Jewish Teological Seminary Rab. 15. Voir R. Rabbinovicz, Diqduqé Soerim, p. 36–41. Dans S. Abramson, ractate ‘Abodah Zarah o the Babylonian almud , Ms. Jewish Teological Seminary o Ameerica, New-York, 1957, p. 28–30 la version est : (il me dit : « C’est ainsi que lui enseigna Jésus son maître »). 12 i n Early Christianity. Studies and Essays, E ssays, el-Aviv, C. D. Flusser, Jewish Sources in 1979, p. 60–61 (heb). Sur l’entrelacement entre approche littéraire et historicité dans le Midrash Aggada, on consultera avec pro�t J. L. Rubenstein, almudic Stories. Narrative Art, Composition, and Culture, Baltimore/Londres, 1999, p. 1–21 et J. Fraen-
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R. E������ �-�-�� ��� ������ ��� �� (�����)-������������� ? Le ait que le rédacteur de ce passage ait trouvé opportun d’insérer ce passage dans la littérature talmudique peut-il nous laisser supposer que R. Eliézer ait été attiré par les adeptes juis du mouvement de Jésus ? On peut en effet postuler que si tel n’avait pas été le cas, ce passage aurait simplement été élagué. 13 On peut conjecturer que la volonté de ne pas censurer ce passage provient justement de son propre contenu, contenu qui doit établir une sorte de mise en garde. En effet,
kel, Te Aggadic Narrative Harmony o Form and Content , el-Aviv, 2001, p. 14–19 (heb). 13 D. Boyarin, Dying or God. Martyrdom and the Making o Christianity and Judaism, Stanord, 1999, p. 28 induit que R. Eliézer ne voulait pas maudire Jésus. Il écrit à ce propos : « Rabbi Eliezer, the text implies, had more than some sympathy or Jesus and his ollowers and their orah, an implication that is supported as well, o course, by the Rabbi’s irenic orah conversation with this Yakov/James ». M. Hirshman, Midrash Qohelet Rabba, New York, 1982, t. I, p. 52 rapporte que Saül Lieberman associait les soupçons qui pesaient sur R. Eliézer de christianiser avec le célèbre récit du our d’Akhnaï. Voir sur ce passage les intéressantes remarques de I. Brand, « Te ‘Oven o Achnai’ and Polemics », in arbiz 75 (2006), p. 437–467 et spécialement p. 438–439 (heb) qui montre que les miracles opérés par R. Eliézer se retrouvent à l’identique dans les Evangiles. Voir également l’étude de A. Guttmann, « Te Signi�cance o Miracles or almudic Judaism », in Hebrew Union College Annual 20 (1947), p. 363–406 et spécialement p. 375–390 qui écrit p. 386 : « Te employment o miracles, among them the Bat Kol, becomes more weighty i we realize that this was done by a personality who appeared to be riendly toward Christianity and its leaders, as was R. Eliezer. Te Suspicion against him was so strong that the Romans in the course o their persecutions o the Christians arrested him. Te act that he was cleared o the Roman accusation does not mean that the Jewish suspicion receded. Suspicion o Christian leanings combined with the employment o a device which, at this time, was undamendal and successul or Christianity, might have worked almost automatically against R. Eliezer as circumstantial evidence o his pro-christian sympathies. In this connection likewise, the act has to be remembered that R. Joshua, leader o the victorious opposition against Christian in�uence. » Nous ne pouvons qu’approuver ces propos de Guttmann et leur ajouter l’argument suivant : l’accusation portée contre R. Eliézer est celle de minuth. Or, ce terme hébraïque désignant la catégorie hétérodoxe propre au judaïsme est employée dans le contexte de osefa Hulin II, 24 pour quali�er la déviance religieuse (peut-être également politique, les deux systèmes étant souvent indissociables) aux lois romaines. Cet état de ait où il ait précisément usage d’un vocable hébraïque pour quali�er l’adhésion au christianisme peut être un indicateur sur le regard des rédacteurs de ce passage à l’égard de R. Eliézer, suspect d’hétérodoxie. C’est dans ce sens qu’écrit Boyarin, op. cit., Stanord, 1999, p. 29 : « Te phrase that I have translated as « arrested or sectarianism » could just as easily be translated rom the Hebrew as « arrested or sectarianism », that is, captured intellectually or spiritually by Christianity. » C’est dans ce même contexte que Boyarin rejette la glose de Rachi qui écrit que « les minim l’ont attrapé a�n de l’obliger à pratiquer l’idolâtrie » comme orçant le texte et altérant son sens obvie. out converge donc pour aller dans le sens d’un attrait que représentait le christianisme pour R. Eliézer.
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la tendance du texte est de mettre en évidence combien est grande la séduction qu’opère le christianisme à l’égard d’un Sage éminent. 14 Peut-être peut-on supposer que différents objectis ont animé le rédacteur talmudique de ce passage : 1) L’aspect illégal du christianisme ; il est représenté par l’arrestation de R. Eliézer par les instances romaines, 2) La séduction du christianisme ; si un Sage éminent tel R. Eliézer le Grand en est victime, vic time, qu’en est-il du plus commun des hommes ? 3) Le christianisme engendre �nalement la solitude ; solitude, qui marquera tragiquement l’existence de R. Eliézer ben Hyrcanus. 15 D’un point de vue purement historique, il est possible de dire que des ragments d’évangiles circulaient en Palestine à l’époque de R. Eliézer et que ce dernier ne devait pas considérer ces textes comme dissidents au judaïsme. De plus, une étude ouillée de certaines positions halakhiques propres à R. Eliézer ait ressortir un rapprochement avec des passages de l’Evangile selon Matthieu. 16
Notons que dans la littérature tannaïtique, la démarche des Sages est d’éviter toutes ormes de contact avec les minim. Cette démarche sous-entend une induction et une question : 1) Ces contacts existaient déjà dans la réalité et il devint opportun de les interdire. 2) La nature de l’autorité des tannaïm permettait-elle d’engager de telles mesures et surtout, surt out, quel crédit le peuple leur accordaient-elles ? Voir sur ces points M. Goodman, « Te Function o Minim in Early Rabbinic Judaism », in Judaism in the Roman World. Collected Essays, Leyde/Boston, 2007, p. 163–173. Ces brèves remarques conortent l’idée selon laquelle le (judéo)-christianisme représentait un certain attrait pour les juis des premiers siècles. 15 C. P. S. Alexander, « Jewish Believers in Early Rabbinic Literature L iterature (2d to 5th Centuries) », in O. Skarsaune ; R. Hvalvik (eds.), Te Early Centuries Jewish Believers in Jesus, Peabody, 2007, p. 659–709 et spécialement p. 662. Ce sentiment de solitude dégagé par ce passage peut également expliquer l’affliction de R. Eliézer ; il s’afflige s’affl ige d’être considéré comme un min – un individu autre qui ne peut plus appartenir au monde des Sages – par les autres Sages. Cela revient à dire par abstraction, que le min n’est plus Jacob le disciple de Jésus, mais lui-même Eliézer le Sage. Ce drame constitue la trame centrale de l’existence de R. Eliézer ben Hircanus : sa mise au ban de la maison d’étude, ses décisions halakhiques rejetées puis brûlées, son isolation sociale, et en�n son amertume au moment de mourir quand il demande aux Sages la raison de leur longue absence ( Sanhedrin 68b). Cette épisode de la mort de R. Eliézer a été compris par D. Boyarin, Border Lines : Te Partition o Judaeo-Christianity, Philadelphie, 2004, p. 178–182 comme un retour de R. Eliézer au sein de la maison d’étude ( new episteme) et une renonciation à l’enseignement de ses maîtres. Cependant comme le note J. Levinson, « Enchanting Rabbis : Contest Narratives between Rabbis and Magicians in Rabbinic Literature o Late Antiquity », in arbiz 75 (2006), p. 311 n. 67 (heb), d’après le récit du almud de Babylone, rien ne laisse entrevoir que R. Eliézer abandonne l’enseignement de ses maîtres ainsi que ses pratiques magiques. 16 Il convient de reprendre sur cette question l’épineux dossier de l’origine hébraïque de l’Evangile selon Matthieu. Voir pour une première approche sur les communes conceptions halakhiques de R. Eliézer et de cet Evangile, nos travaux en D. Jaffé, 14
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Concernant le regard qu’entretenait R. Eliézer à l’égard du personnage de Jésus, on peut citer ce passage de Yoma 66b: Ils demandèrent à R. Eliézer : Qu’est-ce qui attend untel ( ) dans le monde utur ? Il leur dit : Vous ne m’avez interrogé que sur untel , etc. Quelle est la situation du bâtard ( ) concernant l’héritage ? Quelle est sa situation vis-à-vis du lévirat ? Doit-on blanchir sa maison ? Et doit-on blanchir son tombeau ? Non pas qu’il voulût donner des réponses évasives, mais il ne prononça jamais un mot qu’il n’ait entendu de son maître.17
Ce texte ort complexe a suscité de nombreuses interprétations notamment a�n de déterminer l’identité de ce personnage dénommé anonymement untel ( ). Selon certains critiques, la orme nominative ou désignerait souvent Jésus volontairement stipulé de açon indéterminée. Ces critiques se ondent principalement sur Yebamoth 3, 13 dans lequel il est question d’un rouleau généalogique trouvé à Jérusalem par R. Simeon ben Azaï sur lequel ou pouvait lire : « Untel est le bâtard ( ) d’une emme adultère. »18 Il est en effet connu qu’une telle calomnie était de mise dans la tradition rabbinique, tournant en dérision la croyance chrétienne en la conception et en la naissance virginales de Jésus, et en lui substituant une naissance illégitime. On peut ainsi convenir que nombre de textes talmudiques comportant la orme peuvent être compris comme aisant allusion à Jésus, bien que celui-ci ne soit pas consigné explicitement. 19 op. cit., Paris, 2005, p. 156–168. Certains textes peuvent également être interprétés dans le sens d’une proximité dissimulée de R. Eliézer pour le personnage de Jésus. 17 Un parallèle de ce texte se trouve en Yebamoth III, 3–4 (Ed. M. S. Zuckermandel p. 243–244), touteois la question traitant de l’accession d’ untel au monde utur succède à toutes les autres. 18 C. J. Klausner, Jésus de Nazareth. Son temps, sa vie, sa doctrine, Paris, 1933, p. 38–41 qui considère que ce texte ait réérence à Jésus. 19 C’est le cas notamment de J Sabbath 14, 4, 14d ( Abodah Zarah 2, 2, 40d) : Son petit-�ls [à R. Yeoshua ben Lévi] avait avalé quelque chose. Un homme vint et lui murmura [quelque chose] au nom de Yeshu ben Pandira et il guérit. Lorsqu’il ut sorti, [R. Yeoshua ben Lévi] lui dit : Que lui as-tu murmuré ? Il lui dit : Un certain mot (milah plan). Il lui dit : Il aurait été préérable qu’il meure plutôt qu’il en soit ainsi. Et il en ut ainsi [comme il est dit] ‘Comme une erreur échappée au souverain’ ( Ecclésiaste 10, 5). Dans la version parallèle de Qoheleth Rabba 10, 5 on trouve la ormule : « un certain verset d’après un certain [homme] ( pasuq plan batar plan) ». Voir aussi Siri Vehethanane 34 (Ed. L. Finkelstein, p. 61) où l’on peut lire : « Et n’associe pas à ceux-là (les paroles de la orah) à d’autres notions comme l’a ait untel ( ), de peur que tu ne dises : j’ai appris la sagesse d’Israël, j’irai étudier la sagesse des nations du monde ». Notons que dans certains manuscrits, nous lisons : « J’irai étudier la sagesse ‘extérieure’
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Ainsi, si cette assertion est exacte, orce est de constater que R. Eliézer ne répondit pas par la négative quant au ait de savoir si Jésus put accéder au monde utur. Bien que sa réponse soit ambiguë, elle ne permet en rien de présumer que ce tanah l’excluait de sa place dans le monde à venir. D’autres éléments montrent également une usion entre R. Eliézer et d’autres pratiques courantes dans le christianisme primiti.20 On peut donc considérer avec Boyarin que ce texte a été introduit dans le corpus talmudique à une époque tardive – III e siècle pour la osefa et Ve siècle pour le almud de Babylone – a�n de déterminer une ligne de démarcation entre Sages et chrétiens. En ait, ce passage dont le principal protagoniste est un des maîtres les plus éminents de la Mishna a pour vocation a posteriori de créer la scission entre juis rabbiniques et juis messianiques.21 On doit cependant observer que ce texte témoigne plus que d’une volonté d’ancrage d’une réalité présente sur des ondements antérieurs ; il s’agit de donner un aspect ancestral à une démarche plus tardive, mais sans que cela n’exclue nécessairement la possibilité d’une véracité historique plus ancienne. 22 ( ) », terme réquemment usité par les Sages pour quali�er les propos desquels il est d’usage de s’éloigner. Autre texte ort éloquent, celui du Seder Eliahu Rabba 9 (Ed. M. Ich-Shalom, p. 47) : « Car nous avons trouvé chez untel ( ) qu’il s’enorgueillissait des paroles de la orah et qu’il irritait (en se ondant sur elles), du ait que sa volonté était de les déraciner du monde ». Pour des textes complémentaires, bien que moins révélateurs, voir S. Lieberman, osefa ke-Fshutah, Yebamoth, p. 24. 20 D. Boyarin, Carnal Israel. Reading Sex in almudic Culture, Berkeley/Los Angeles, 1993, p. 47–48 a montré que la proonde réticence que manieste R. Eliézer à accomplir l’acte sexuel qu’il comprend exclusivement comme acte de procréation est singulier dans la littérature talmudique. Il apparaît cependant sous cette orme dans le christianisme primiti. Voir également D. Stein, Maxims Magic Myth. A Folkloristic Perspective o Pirkei deRabbi Eliezer, Jérusalem, 2004, p. 161–164 (heb) qui met l’accent sur l’aspect ascétique du modèle comportemental de R. Eliézer. Ajoutons que le savant talmudiste J. N. Epstein, Prolegomena ad Litteras annaiticas. Mishna, osephta et Interpretationes Halachias, Jérusalem, 1957, p. 377 (heb) a relevé des approches similaires entre R. Eliézer et les Evangiles sur les lois concernant les serments, en postulant une possibilité d’in�uences chrétiennes sur R. Eliézer. 21 C. D. Boyarin, op. cit., Stanord, 1999, p. 29 qui écrit : « In inscribing Rabbi Eliezer – one o the most canonical and central o rabbinic culture heroes – in a �ctive plot situation that would lead him to extreme marginality and then, in the end, recuperating him, the biographical narrative is inscribing, I suggest, the underconstruction, the being-invented nature o the divide between Christians and Rabbis in the third Century. » 22 Notons que parmi certaines écoles historiographiques historiographiques du XIX e siècle, la tendance est d’accorder à ce texte toute son authenticité historique. Voir à titre d’exemple J. Derenbourg, Essai sur l’histoire et la géographie de la Palestine d’après les Talmuds et les autres sources rabbiniques, Paris, 1867, p. 358 qui écrivait : « Cette histoire porte
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Il convient donc d’analyser les catégories hégéliennes de la res gestae en concomitance avec les historia rerum gestarum . On peut donc effectivement considérer que le passage de la osefa témoigne de plusieurs points qu’il convient d’énumérer de la açon suivante : • Un attrait exprimé et certainement attesté de R. Eliézer pour le christianisme.23 • Une réalité historique de vives tensions témoignant dès dès le IIe siècle, d’une volonté de rejet des juis adeptes du mouvement de Jésus de la communauté qui, progressivement, se normativise. • Une volonté volonté d’ériger ce passage comme lex populi a�n de mettre en garde les autres juis qui voudraient dialoguer et apprendre des judéo-chrétiens des interprétations scripturaires.24 • Une situation de gestation dans le processus de décrépitude des relations entre les Sages et les juis messianiques dès l’époque de R. Eliézer, et qui s’avérera �nalement atale
tous les caractères d’une grande authenticité ». La relation entre lecture positiviste et représentation est décrite de açon très pertinente par P. Schäer, Jesus in the almud, Princeton, 2007, p. 48 qui écrit : « Yet we should not draw too �rm a line between the ‘historical’ and the ‘�ctional’ character, between the ‘event’ and the ‘cultural construction’. Both belong closely together, and even at the risk o relapsing into the bad habits o positivism I want to posit that the rabbis with their stories, including the present one, reveal more than just the awareness (and recognition) o the breaking-off o Christianity rom the common ground o rabbinic Judaism. Rather, this awareness and recongnition are not abstract constructs but deeply grounded in the reality and the experience o what happened. (. . .) As ar as the stories about Jesus and his ollowers are concerned they indeed reveal some knowledge o the Christian sect and o its hero, and this knowledge in not just a distorted and vague hodgepodge o this and that, but a well-designed attack against what the rabbis experienced as the reality o the Jewish-Christian message. » Soulignons que nous acquiesçons sans réserve à ces excellentes remarques. 23 Notons que Y.Y. eppler, Birkat ha-minim, übingen, 2007, p. 290 note 475 écrit : “Tereore “Tereore we can also say that even according to the words put in the mouth o this governor, Rabbi Eliezer is not suspected o any Chrsitainity”. L’accusation énoncée contre R. Eliézer, inculpé pour minuth est en effet oncièrement juive, cependant l’inculpation romaine a lieu sous le seul prétexte d’être chrétien. Autrement dit, le substanti minuth est hébraïque, cependant le moti de la minuth découle de la juridiction romaine. La stupéaction du ‘hegmon’ sur le ait que ces « anciens s’occupent de telles choses » et le souvenir de R. Eliézer sur sa rencontre avec Jacob le min, abondent dans ce sens. L’approche de eppler doit donc être invalidée. 24 Patristic s, C. M. Hirshman, Mikra and Midrash : A Comparison o Rabbinics and Patristics, el-Aviv, 1992, p. 10 (heb).
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• Une volonté ormalisée au IIIe siècle de marquer une séparation entre Sages et judéo-chrétiens, envisagés à présent en dehors de leur communauté d’origine. Outre l’attrait évident dont témoigne ce texte pour le christianisme, il offre également des éléments capitaux a�n de comprendre le concept de représentation. Par représentation, il aut entendre la question sui vante : selon quelles modalités le judaïsme pense le christianisme à des époques plus tardives que celles du récit qui est narré ? La première représentation est exprimée par l’attachement de R. Eliézer à l’enseignement énoncé au nom de Jésus. 25 Cet attachement exprime de açon paradigmatique l’attirance dont témoigne le christianisme sur la société juive mais également la açon dont le judaïsme pense et se représente le christianisme à une époque plus tardive. Epoque durant laquelle, répétons-le, la démarche vise à marquer les rontières et à se différencier des adeptes du mouvement chrétien.26 Cette notion de représentation peut être illustrée par un célèbre passage du almud de Babylone, Sanhedrin 107b dans lequel il est question de Jésus.
Soulignons que l’histoire des représentations développée ici ici doit être accompagnée d’une étude plus circonscrite dans le domaine de l’histoire des religions. Dans cette dernière perspective, on doit mentionner que cette attirance de R. Eliézer pour le christianisme doit être comprise dans le cadre d’une époque où les deux religions ne sont pas séparées et dans laquelle le christianisme évolue encore au sein du judaïsme. En conséquence de ces observations, R. Eliézer a certainement vu dans l’enseignement de Jésus transmis par Jacob rien de plus qu’une exégèse rabbinique qu’il ne connaissait pas, et qui trouva grâce à ses yeux. A la différence de Daniel Boyarin, qui voit en R. Eliézer un adepte chrétien, nous lisons dans ce passage la rencontre d’un Sage avec une autre orme de judaïsme à une époque où, les rontières entre judaïsme rabbinique et christianisme orthodoxe sont loin d’être péremptoirement dé�nies. Il semblerait qu’une lecture trop radicale de ce passage pêche justement par ce qu’elle condamne, à savoir l’anachronisme. C. J. Neusner, Eliezer ben Hyrcanus : Te radition and the Man, Leyde, 1973, t. II, p. 367 qui est certain que Eliézer « cannot have been a min ». 26 C. J. . Sanders, Schismatics, Sectarians, Dissidents, Deviants. Te First One Hundred Years o Jewish-Christian Relations, Londres, 1993, p. 63 qui écrit : « Such a situation does not mean that they had no social intercourse with mainstream Jews. Te stories show rather the contrary ! And i Rabbis o only modest prominence have to be coaxed back rom contact with Christians by the most eminent o the sages, what will have been the situation with the common people ? » 25
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Qu’en est-il de Josué ben Parahyah ? Lorsque le roi Jannée assassina les maîtres, Josué ben Parahyah et Jésus 27 s’enuirent à Alexandrie d’Egypte. Quand la paix ut rétablie, Siméon ben Shetah envoya [un message] : De moi, Jérusalem la ville sainte à toi Alexandrie d’Egypte : Ma sœur, mon mari réside en toi, et moi je suis dans l’affliction. [Ainsi], ils partirent et trouvèrent une auberge (ushpiza) où ils urent reçus avec beaucoup d’honneurs. Il dit [Josué ben Parahyah] : Combien belle est cette auberge (ahsania) ! Il lui dit [Jésus]28 : Ses yeux sont ronds (ils ont mauvaise apparence). Il lui dit : Mécréant ! C’est de cela dont tu t’occupes. Il sortit quatre cents trompettes et le mit au ban. Jésus revint vers lui plusieurs ois en lui disant : Reprends moi, mais il ne lui prêtait pas attention. Un jour, alors qu’il récitait le Shema, il [Jésus] vint devant lui ; [Josué ben Parahyah] pensa l’accepter et lui �t un signe de la main. Il pensa [Jésus] qu’il était repoussé. Il sortit, dressa une brique ( lebeinta) et se prosterna devant elle29. Josué ben Parahyah lui dit : Repens-toi ! Il lui dit [Jésus] : J’ai reçu de toi : Celui qui aute et qui ait auter autrui, on ne lui donne pas les moyens de se repentir. Mar dit : « Jésus a pratiqué la sorcellerie, a séduit et a ourvoyé Israël 30 ».
Ce texte, dont nous avons ait l’analyse antérieurement, ne retiendra pas notre attention, cependant un seul point sera relevé. 31 Il s’agit de l’aspect inachevé qui le caractérise juxtaposé au sentiment de �ou qui marque ses composantes structurelles. Ainsi, alors que Jésus essaye d’intervenir auprès de son maître a�n d’obtenir sa compassion, celui-ci la lui reuse. Or, au moment où il est prêt à l’en grati�er, un geste est mal interprété et le disciple est dé�nitivement perdu. On doit remarquer que le texte oscille entre deux démarches qui lui conèrent toute sa tension interne : l’injustice dont a été victime Jésus et le rigorisme du maître. Rigorisme qui ne présente aucun compromis dans son attitude jusqu’au moment ultime qui �nalement n’aboutira pas. En ait, la tension naît d’un paradoxe : d’une part, on désire récu pérer le le auteur Jésus, dont on aura d’ailleurs remarquer que la nature de la aute ne justi�e en rien une telle réaction ; d’autre part, et dans le même temps, on ne le désire pas . Cette tension à l’œuvre dans ce passage s’échelonne au travers de deux pôles : Josué ben Parahyah qui Dans le manuscrit de Munich, on trouve la mention : Yeshu ha-notsri (Jésus le nazaréen). 28 Dans la version de Sota 47a, on trouve explicitement la mention de Jésus sous la orme : « Yeshu ha-notsri (Jésus le Nazaréen) lui dit ». 29 Dans la version parallèle de Sota 47a, on trouve : « et lui �t un culte ». 30 Dans la version version de Sota 47a, on trouve tr ouve : « et a ait auter Israël ». Notons que cette ormule se retrouve également en Sanhedrin 43a. 31 C. D. Jaffé, op. cit., Paris, 2007, p. 137–151. 27
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accepte le repentir de son élève par un geste de clémence et le propos �nal marquant la rupture irréversible : « Jésus a pratiqué la sorcellerie, a séduit et a ourvoyé Israël ». Notre proposition est de lire ce passage comme témoignant du re�et des relations entre judaïsme et christianisme de l’époque de sa rédaction. Autrement dit, il témoigne du regard des Sages envers les chrétiens à une époque tardive. Ces tensions expriment donc la vision du judaïsme sur le christianisme et, d’une certaine açon, l’inexploitation de la possibilité de récupérer le disciple. Il semblerait que ce texte légendaire énonce implicitement le ait que le rejet du christianisme par le judaïsme aurait pu être évité. La représentation du christianisme est celle d’un disciple déviant qui a été rejeté et qui aurait dû être récu péré dans le giron du judaïsme. Au travers du personnage de Jésus, c’est donc tout le christianisme qui est ici représenté. L’attrait que pouvait représenter le christianisme se retrouve dans un autre passage dans lequel il est également question d’un Jacob, disciple de Jésus. Ainsi en osefa Hulin II, 22–23 on peut lire : Il arriva à R. Eléazar ben Dama qu’un serpent le mordit, Jacob de Kear Sama vint pour le guérir au nom de Yeshua ben Panitera32 et R. Ismaël ne le lui permit pas. Il lui dit 33 : « On ne te le permet pas, Ben Dama ». Il dit [Ben Dama] : « Je vais te ournir une preuve [empruntée à l’Ecriture, que j’ai le droit] qu’il me guérisse ». Mais avant qu’il n’ait pu ournir la preuve, il mourut. R. Ismaël déclara : « Heureux es-tu, Ben Dama qui es sorti en paix [de ce monde] et qui n’as pas transgressé les ordonnances des Sages, car celui qui rompt la haie des Sages, le châtiment arrive sur lui, comme il est dit : ‘Qui rompt la haie, le serpent le mord’ » (Ecclésiaste 10, 8).34
Ce passage montre à l’évidence le ait que R. Eléazar ben Dama voulait en premier lieu échapper à une mort certaine et sauver sa vie. On peut certainement y lire aussi une propension de ce Sage à accueillir posiDans la première édition édition de la osefa on trouve : ( mishum Yeshu ben Pantera ) alors que dans le manuscrit de Londres la ormule est : (mishum Yeshu ben Pandera ). Dans le manuscrit de Vienne la lettre �gure après la lettre et donne : ( mishum Yeshua ben Panitera ). Voir les remarques de S. Lieberman, oseeth Rishonim, Jérusalem, 1999, t. II, p. 227. 33 Il semblerait qu’il aille corriger la orme composée stipulée dans les manuscrits d’Erurt et de Vienne en en accord avec la traduction qu’en propose J. Neusner, A History o the Mishnaic Law o Holy Tings, Leyde, 1979, t. III, p. 41. Il est à supposer que cette première orme est le résultat d’une erreur de copiste relative à la lecture de l’abréviation . 34 oseta Hulin II, 22–23 (Ed. M. S. Zuckermandel p. 503). 32
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tivement les thérapies thaumaturgiques pratiquées au nom de Jésus. Dans cet esprit, il est possible de supposer qu’il maniestait une relative proximité avec les adeptes juis du mouvement de Jésus. 35 En outre, Eléazar ben Dama est connu dans les sources talmudiques pour ses élans « non conventionnels ».36 Certes, sa volonté d’étudier la sagesse hellénistique n’en ait pas un adepte du mouvement de Jésus, cependant il est évident qu’il ne voyait pas dans les judéo-chrétiens une menace dont il allait inconditionnellement et radicalement s’éloigner. Cela à la différence de R. Ismaël qui, non seulement, innove la halakha en interdisant la thérapie de Jacob le min mais, de surcroît, exulte, en considérant la mort de ben Dama comme une délivrance. 37 R�������������� �� ������������� ���� ��� ������� ����������� L’idée de représentation sous-entend deux notions indissociables sur lesquelles il est important de aire la lumière. La première exprime Ceci étant, il nous semble que Boyarin va trop loin en aisant de ben Dama un chrétien dont la mort serait un châtiment pour son attachement antérieur au christianisme. Voir D. Boyarin, op. cit., Stanord, 1999, p. 40–41. 36 En Menakhot 99b il demande à R. Ismaël s’il peut étudier la sagesse grecque, ce qui dénote des penchants intellectuels peu consensuels. Voir sur ce passage S. Lieberman, « Te Alleged Ban on Greek Wisdom », in Hellenism in Jewish Palestine. Studies in the Literary ransmission Belies and Manners o Palestine in the I Century BCE–IV Century CE, New York, 1962, p. 100–114 qui considère que les Sages ne proscrivent pas l’étude de la langue grecque. Pour un avis contraire G. Alon, Studies on Jewish History in the imes o the Second emple, the Mishna and the almud, el-Aviv, p. 248–277 et spécialement p. 271(heb). 37 C. A. Schremer, « Seclusion and Exclusion : Te Rhetoric o Separation in Qumran and annaitic Literature », in S. D. Fraade ; A. Shemesh ; R. A. Clements (eds.), Rabbinic Perspectives Perspect ives : Rabbinic Literature and the t he Dead Sea Scrolls. Proccedings o the Eighth International Symposium o the Orion Center or the Study o the Dead Sea Srolls and Associated Literature, 7–9 January, 2003, Leyde/Boston, 2006, p. 141–145 qui souligne à juste titre que R. Ismaël considérait les guérisons au nom de Jésus de açon plus stricte que l’idolâtrie. Il aut cependant ajouter que le problème des judéochrétiens ne trouvait pas d’assises halakhiques déjà connues et sur lesquelles on avait déjà légiéré. Dans ces nouvelles circonstances, il allut nouvellement statuer. C’est ainsi que R. Ismaël décrèta une nouvelle halakha contre les traitements médicinaux judéo-chrétiens. Ce texte talmudique témoigne certainement de pratiques médicinales très ancrées parmi les premiers chrétiens. Ces pratiques que les évangélistes ont remonter à Jésus lui-même, orment une tradition que l’on retrouve dans la littérature apostolique et qui est également très représentée dans le christianisme primiti. Il suffit pour s’en convaincre de lire les écrits patristiques qui abondent de descriptions symboliques sur le Christus Medicus. Voir sur cette question M. Dulaey, Symbole des Evangiles (I er –V ie siècles). « Le Christ médecin et thaumaturge », Paris, 2007. 35
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le regard sur une réalité passée que l’on transmet au travers d’un texte contemporain ; la seconde est l’idée de açonnement, c’est-à-dire, l’approche que l’on désire transmettre dans le présent de cette réalité passée. Cette approche doit açonner la réalité du moment. On assiste de acto à l’établissement d’une conception qui peut in�uencer les esprits en aisant usage du passé .38 Il nous semble que nombre de textes de la littérature talmudique relatis au christianisme re�ètent cette tendance. Ainsi, ce sera donc la recherche de la Wirkungsgeschichte (réception de l’histoire) qui mobilisera présentement notre attention. De ce point de vue, il n’est certainement pas anodin que le passage talmudique de Abodah Zarah 16b–17a mentionne des thématiques qui tiennent lieu de açonnement . A ce titre on peut aire réérence au verset de Dt 23, 19 : u n’apporteras point dans la maison de Dieu, comme offrande votive d’aucune sorte, le salaire d’une courtisane . Il est en effet difficile de penser que la mention de la prostituée soit ortuite. Il est au contraire des plus probables que le rédacteur tardi de ce passage ait sciemment employé cette représentation métaphorique dans le but de aire insidieusement réérence au christianisme. Nous assistons donc à une parodie littéraire qui prend comme point ocal la prostitution. Il convient donc d’en rechercher la raison. On peut, à ce propos, émettre deux raisons principales : • Une volonté de mettre en corrélation enseignement de Jésus (représentant le christianisme et transmis dans notre passage par Jacob le min) et prostitution a�n de montrer à l’auditoire que le discours exégétique des (judéo)-chrétiens sur la orah n’est ni plus ni moins qu’un ourvoiement symbolisé par la prostitution. • Une volonté conjointe de mettre en évidence évidence l’attirance que véhicule le discours chrétien représenté par le salaire de la courtisane . L’approche qui est soutenue par le rédacteur tardi de ces textes consiste à dire que l’exégèse chrétienne – ou plus généralement le christianisme – attire, autant que peuvent attirer les charmes d’une prostituée. Il aut donc se prémunir devant les charmes de la prostituée autant que devant les charmes du christianisme . C’est donc
Il est intéressant à ce titre de citer P. Schäer, op. cit., Princeton, 2007, p. 41 qui écrit à propos de ce passage : « that it attacks the Christian sect through the mirror o the rabbinic perception o Christianity ». 38
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d’une double coloration dont il s’agit : l’érotisme de la prostitution et la séduction du discours chrétien. Cette approche est corroborée par p ar la sentence citée par R. Eliézer : Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère, c’est la minuth, ne t’approche pas de l’entrée de sa maison, c’est l’autorité ( ) qui d’ailleurs se retrouve dans ce passage midrashique39 : Quelle est la clôture que les Ecrits ont ait à leurs paroles, il est dit ‘Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère, ne t’approche pas de l’entrée de sa maison’ (Pr 5, 8), ‘Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère’, il s’agit de la minuth. On dit à quelqu’un : ne te rends pas parmi les minim et n’entre pas chez eux de peur que tu ne aute avec eux ; [ce], bien qu’il prétende être sûr de lui et qu’il dise y entrer et ne pas auter. De peur que tu ne dises, j’écoute leurs paroles et je reviens à moi [vers des voies justes] ; le almud enseigne ‘Aucun de ceux qui se rendent chez elle ne revient et ne retrouve le chemin de la vie’ (Pr 2, 19). Il est écrit ‘Elle a tué des animaux pour son estin, mélangé son vin et dressé sa table’ (9, 2). Ce sont les mécréants (reshaim)40 car au moment où l’on entre chez eux, ils vous donnent à manger, à boire, ils vous vêtissent, vous couvrent et vous donnent beaucoup d’argent. Lorsqu’on devient l’un d’eux, chacun identi�e sa part donnée et s’en empare, comme il est dit ‘Comme le passereau se lance dans le piège, jusqu’à ce qu’une �èche lui perce le oie : il ne se doute pas qu’il y va de sa vie’ (Pr 7, 23). Autre enseignement : ‘Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère’, il s’agit de la prostituée. On dit à quelqu’un : Ne te rend pas dans ce marché et n’entre pas dans cette impasse car il s’y trouve une prostituée belle et charmante ; lui prétend être sûr de luimême, y aller et ne pas auter. On lui dit : Bien que tu sois sûr de toi, ne t’y rends pas de peur de auter, car les Sages ont dit ‘Que l’homme ne soit pas accoutumé à passer devant la porte de la prostituée’, comme il est dit ‘Car nombreuses sont les victimes dont elle a causé la chute, et ceux qu’elle a ait périr sont oule. » (Pr 7, 26)
Ce texte d’origine tannaïtique est édi�ant en ce qu’il permet de dégager le regard entretenu par les tannaïm à l’égard des minim/chrétiens.41 C. Aboth de Rabbi Nathan 2/a (Ed. S. Schechter, p. 13–14). Dans certains manuscrits, on trouve la mention minim reshaim. Voir à ce propos Id., Schechter, p. 14 n. 76. 41 Pour une histoire de la recherche concernant l’aspect tannaïtique du traité Abot de Rabbi Nathan, voir M. Kister, Studies in Avot de-Rabbi Nathan. ext, Redaction and Interpretation, Jérusalem, 1998, p. 5–9 (heb). La datation tannaïtique de ce passage peut-être induite par la version parallèle de Abot de Rabbi Nathan 3/b (ed. S. Schechter, p. 13) au non de R. Yeoshua ben Korha ( tanna de la quatrième génération) : « C’est la voix empruntée par la minuth. On dit à la personne de ne pas aller 39 40
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On y retrouve en effet une semblable dialectique entre le christianisme et la prostitution. 42 Cette dialectique doit être comprise selon la modalité suivante : la prostitution représente l’archétype de la tentation ; d’une semblable manière, le christianisme représente également pour les Sages l’archétype de la tentation. Cette tentation considérée à plusieurs égards comme néaste per excellenso, doit être éloignée car il est difficile d’y résister. 43
chez les minim et de ne pas écouter leurs paroles pour ne pas auter par leurs actes. S’il dit : Je suis sûr que si j’irai, je n’écouterai pas leurs paroles et je ne auterai pas par leurs actes. On lui dit : Bien que tu sois sûr, ne t’y rends pas car ‘Eloigne tes pas de cette étrangère, car nombreuses sont les victimes dont elle a causé la chute’». Ce passage semble être le ruit d’une orme de résignation des Sages sur les méaits du christianisme et sur l’attirance qu’il véhicule, accompagnée bien entendu d’une rigoureuse mise en garde. 42 Notons que la corrélation entre les minim et la dépravation sexuelle apparaît dans plusieurs passages de la littérature talmudique. Voir par exemple Qoheleth Rabba I, 8 où R. Yonathan est conronté à des minim qui se livre à des pratiques sexuelles avec une jeune �lle. Voir sur ces questions l’étude de B. Visotzky, « Overturning the Lamp », in Journal o Jewish Studies 38 (1987), p. 72–80. C’est d’ailleurs dans le sens d’une accusation pour dépravation sexuelle que J. Maier, Jesus von Nazareth in der talmudischen Überlieerung, Darmstadt, 1978, p. 152–154 a compris l’interpellation de R. Eliézer par les instances romaines. Cela n’est cependant aucunement convaincant. 43 Il doit être souligné dans la perspective de la realia historica, que le (judéo)christianisme devait certainement exercer une grande attirance parmi les juis. On peut sans peine imaginer que si R. Eliézer ut arrêté sous le moti de christianiser, le peuple, durant les deux premiers siècles de l’ère chrétienne, étant en constante relation avec des (judéo)-chrétiens, et se trouvant souvent éloigné des centres talmudiques et de la vie intellectuelle des Sages, devait se trouver sous la tentation du christianisme de açon encore bien plus prononcée. Voir les importantes remarques philologiques de L. Finkelstein, Mabo le-Massektot Abot ve-Abot d’Rabbi Natan, New York, 1950, p. 128–130 (heb) qui présente les versions manuscrites de ce passage, et conclut à une identi�cation avec les chrétiens. Finkelstein souligne que certains éléments de ce midrash ont réérence à la réalité historique, notamment le ait que les minim nourrissent, servent à boire et vêtissent celui qui pénètre au sein de leurs assemblées. On pourrait approondir la démarche de ce critique et voir dans l’activité « missionnaire » des chrétiens – telle qu’elle est rapportée dans ce passage – une démarche qui s’apparente sociologiquement aux caractéristiques modernes de la secte, et du néophyte qui découvre ses attraits. Ce phénomène est d’ailleurs exprimé par l’énigmatique propos ‘Lorsqu’on devient l’un d’eux, chacun identi�e sa part donnée et s’en empare’ qui semble aire réérence à la restitution des biens concédés mais peut allégoriquement être compris sous une orme plus �gurative telle : ‘Lorsqu’il devient l’un d’eux, chacun retrouve sa part en lui [ d’enseignement donné ] et s’empare de lui [de sa personnalité ] comme il est dit ‘Comme le passereau se lance dans le piège, jusqu’à ce qu’une �èche lui perce le oie : il ne se doute pas qu’il y va de sa vie’ (Pr 7, 23). Notons en�n que l’analogie entre prostitution et idolâtrie apparaît déjà dans la Bible notamment en Jr 2, 20 ; 3, 6 ; Ez 20, 30. On peut à ce propos postuler un glissement conceptuel depuis les représentations bibliques jusqu’aux représentations talmudiques.
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On retrouve d’ailleurs cette même analogie entre la prostituée et le christianisme dans la version babylonienne de Abodah Zarah 17a : Il y a ceux qui disent : ‘Garde ses manières loin de toi’. Il s’agit de la minuth et de l’autorité (romaine). ‘Et ne t’approche pas de l’entrée de sa maison’. Il s’agit de la prostituée. A quelle distance [doit-on se tenir de la porte de la prostituée] ? Rav Hisda dit : Quatre coudées. 44
Il s’agit dans ce passage d’une tentation de même nature : la prostitution, l’autorité romaine et le christianisme. 45 Le deuxième point qu’il convient de relever se retrouve dans la drasha (l’exégèse halakhique) à laquelle se livre Jacob, disciple de l’enseignement de Jésus. Il s’interroge sur l’usage du salaire de la courtisane et suggère de l’utiliser a�n de bâtir des latrines pour le grand prêtre. Cette interrogation revêt deux aspects qu’il est important de relever : la parodie et la scatologie. A l’époque de la compilation du passage du almud de Babylone, Abodah Zarah 16b–17a, l’intention a été de représenter le christianisme selon ces deux caractéristiques. La parodie est exprimée à travers le développement discursi de Jacob à propos de la relation entre le salaire de la courtisane et la abrication des latrines. La scatologie est bien entendu illustrée par cette dernière proposition. Notre proposition est de soutenir ici que cette idée, mise dans la bouche du judéo-chrétien Jacob, est sciemment choisie par le(s) rédacteur(s) de ce passage. Selon notre opinion, le raisonnement analogique est propre à l’esprit talmudique. Il est en effet connu que l’uni vers des Sages est celui de la halakha et qu’ainsi, c’est exclusivement en onction de caractéristiques propres à celle-ci que leurs schémas mentaux s’élaborent. Il convient donc de se demander selon quelles modalités sont dé�nies les latrines dans la littérature talmudique. Sans rentrer dans l’étendue et la complexité de ce dossier, on peut C. sur ce passage les analyses de D. Boyarin, Sparks o the Logos. Essays in Rabbinic Hermeneutics, Leyde, 2003, p. 261–263. Boyarin qui revient dans le dernier chapitre de cet ouvrage à l’analyse du récit relati à R. Eliézer note en p. 260 : « Te analogy seems clear : just as one may not take the hire o a prostitute or any purpose connected with holiness, so one may not take the ‘orah’ o a heretic or any purpose connected with holiness ». 45 Il est ort intéressant de constater que dans le monde chrétien, la prostituée était était une représentation métaphorique très privilégiée de l’hérésie. Voir à ce niveau V. Burrus, « World and Flesh : Te Bodies and Sexuality o Ascetic Women in Christian Antiquity », in Journal o Feminist Studies in Religion 10 (1994), p. 27–51. 44
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seulement noter que les contextes talmudiques (souvent halakhiques) dans lesquels apparaissent les latrines associent l’idée d’éloignement pour cause de pestilence. Ainsi, on prendra garde de prier ou de réciter certains textes liturgiques à une certaine distance des latrines. Or, le point particulièrement intéressant est que l’éloignement en question est signi�é dans le almud par la ormule arbah’ amoth (quatre coudées).46 Cette ormule d’éloignement se retrouve d’ailleurs dans deux épisodes talmudiques relatis à R. Eliézer. En outre, dans les deux cas, les arbah’ amoth (quatre coudées) expriment justement l’éloignement à entretenir à l’égard de R. Eliézer ; ce même R. Eliézer qui ne voulut pas désavouer publiquement Jésus lors de son interpellation par les instances romaines. Les deux occurrences sont respectivement : 1) Baba Metsia 59b : R. Aqiba vient annoncer la mise au ban dont est victime R. Eliézer est « s’assoit devant lui [à une distance de] quatre coudées ». 2) Sanhedrin 68a : les Sages se rendent chez R. Eliézer qui est mourant et « s’assoient devant lui [à une distance de] quatre coudées ». Dans les deux cas, c’est cette même distance d’éloignement qui est de rigueur avec les latrines et avec R. Eliézer accusé de christianiser. Dans ce contexte, un passage talmudique peut permettre d’éclairer de açon supplémentaire ce dossier. Il s’agit du almud de Babylone, Nedarim 49a où on peut lire : Un min a demandé à R. Yehudah (qui avait un visage qui exprime la santé) : on visage ressemble à un visage de prêteur avec intérêt ou à celui d’un éleveur de porcs. R. Yehudah lui répondit : Ces deux [activités] sont interdites pour les juis. En ait, [mon visage est ainsi] car il se trouve vingt quatre latrines depuis ma maison jusqu’à la maison d’étude et à chaque heure, j’entre dans l’une d’entre elles.47
C. par exemple Berakhot 23a–b ; 26a ; Sabbath 10a. On peut supposer que l’imbrication l’imbrication d’araméen et d’hébreu de ce passage témoigne de différentes strates de composition littéraires. Ainsi, la dernière partie « et à chaque heure, j’entre dans l’une d’entre elles » est certainement un rajout plus tardi. Voir M. Hershler (ed.), Te Babylonian almud with Variant Readings Collected rom Manuscripts, Fragments F ragments o the ‘Genizah’ and Early Printed Editions. ractate Nedarim II, Jérusalem, 1991, p. 35 n. 26. Notons qu’une variante babylonienne de ce passage est mentionnée en Berakhot 58a avec deux différences :1) Le min devient une matronitah 2) La dernière partie devient « et j’entre et m’examine dans chacune d’elles ». On trouve une intéressante version palestinienne de ce passage en Sheqalim 3, 2, 47c sous la orme : « Une matronitah vit que le visage [de R. Yonah] était éclairé. Elle lui 46 47
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Ce texte qui oscille, selon notre opinion, entre la dérision et la moquerie, présente clairement la corrélation entre le min et les latrines. L’identité du min peut être suggéré par la nature même de son propos ; il évoque deux activités qui sont notoirement interdites pour les juis : l’élevage de porcs et l’emprunt avec intérêt. Cette apostrophe aite à R. Yehudah est de l’ordre de la dérision et amène à penser que le min en question connaît certains aspects ondamentaux de la loi juive. On peut peut-être supposer qu’il est chrétien. R. Yehudah cherche implicitement à établir le parallèle entre le min, la minuth et les latrines dans lesquelles il entre d’heure en heure a�n de parvenir en bonne santé à la maison d’étude. 48 On pourrait dire en extrapolant quelque peu que le soulagement occasionné par la déalcation (permis par les vingt quatre latrines) lui permet d’entrer dans la maison d’étude en bonne santé.49 Autrement dit, le rejet de la minuth (christianisme) dit : Vieillard, vieillard, ou bien tu possèdes une de ces quatre choses, ou bien tu es un buveur de vin ? Ou bien peut-être es-tu un prêteur d’argent avec intérêt ou un éle veur de porcs ? Il lui dit : Quelle stupide emme ! Je ne possède aucune de ces choses, en revanche mon étude est présente dans ma main, ainsi qu’il est écrit ‘La sagesse de l’homme éclaire sa ace’ (Ecc 8, 1). » Notons que ce passage qui est peut-être le texte source des versions babyloniennes plus tardives, présente une chute qui se onde moins sur une controverse que sur une mise en exergue des bienaits de l’étude sur le corps. Cependant, en considérant la question, à savoir que cette matronitah cherche à polémiquer avec R. Yonah, peut-être peut-on lire une échelle de valeurs entre la riche emme romaine (sens du substanti matronitah) et le Sage ? Ainsi, nous assisterions à une polémique voilée entre le Sage jui inspiré par les valeurs de l’étude et la emme païenne n’accordant d’importance qu’aux aspects matériels de l’existence. Selon cette lecture, ce passage serait paraitement dans l’optique des versions babyloniennes et de l’interprétation que nous proposons de Nedarim 49b. 48 Soulignons que les quelques occurrences talmudiques attribuées à R. Yehudah bar Ilaï en réérence à l’hygiène (toilettes, bains etc.) n’excluent en rien la dérision que renerme sa réponse. Cela prouve seulement qu’il était particulièrement méticuleux à l’égard de l’hygiène corporelle ; ce qui peut d’ailleurs avoir amené le min à lui poser sa question. De nouveau, ces considérations ne remettent aucunement en question la moquerie de part et d’autre que renerme ce passage. Pour une analyse de la place des latrines en Palestine durant les premiers siècles, on consultera E. Baruch and Z. Amar, « Te Latrine (Latrina) in the Land o Israel in the Roman-Byzantine Period », in Jerusalem and Eretz-Israel 1 (2003), p. 27–50 et spécialement p. 33 (heb). Nous remercions Emmanuel Friedheim de nous avoir rappelé cet article. 49 L’antagonisme entre les latrines et la maison d’étude se retrouve dans ce passage de Qoheleth Zutah 1, 7 (ed. S. Buber, p. 144) : « Le Saint béni Soit-il a donné la sagesse aux sots et ils s’assoient et s’en servent aux latrines et aux thermes, alors Il a donné la sagesse aux Sages a�n qu’ils méditent dans les synagogues et les maisons d’étude ». Il est intéressant de noter que dans le monde romain la déalcation est souvent associée à des cultes religieux. Il est possible de mentionner dans ce contexte l’inscription « cacator cave malum » mentionnée à la gauche de la déesse Fortuna au dessus de latrines découvertes à Pompéi. Ces latrines montrent un homme déalquant en se prosternant devant un petit autel. Cette inscription ne ait que con�rmer l’antagonisme mis en
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permet la pénétration dans ce qui lui est antagoniste : la maison d’étude. Bien entendu, cette piste de lecture se situe exclusivement dans une démarche suggestive, elle n’entend pas être apodictique et correspond davantage à une représentation de l’ordre du regard qu’à une realia. Une dernière remarque doit être émise concernant la représentation du personnage de Jésus : il est représenté sous les aspects d’un maître qui enseigne la orah. Il est intéressant de relever qu’à l’inverse des occurrences de la littérature talmudique où il apparaît comme un mauvais disciple qui égare et ait auter Israël, c’est bien en tant que Rabbi dispensant (indirectement) son enseignement à Jacob qu’il est mentionné dans notre passage. Cette remarque est importante car elle renverse l’idée archétypale de Jésus communément admise dans le almud. C��������� Le passage analysé dans cette étude et plus généralement les lois contre les minim dans la littérature tannaïtique, peuvent être compris comme un mouvement orchestré par les Sages non pas directement pour exclure le dissident mais plutôt dans le but d’une auto-édi�cation. A l’époque de Yabneh, les Sages cherchent à établir les ondements de la société juive en onction de leurs propres directives. Or cette démarche ne peut être menée à bien seulement si ces derniers sont accrédités d’une légitimité et d’un pouvoir qui puissent leur permettre d’in�uer sur la société.50 Les textes relatis à Jacob le min peuvent donc évidence par les Sages. Voir sur cette inscription Y. Z. Eliav, « wo Comments on Idolatry in the Roman Bath House », in Cathedra 110 (2003), p. 174 (heb). 50 Cela nous renvoie à la ondamentale question question de la place et du pouvoir pouvoir des Sages dans la société palestinienne des premiers siècles. On peut schématiquement séparer en deux approches distinctes les positions historiographiques sur cette question. Certains ont tendance à minimaliser le rôle et le pouvoir des Sages durant les premiers siècles de l’ère chrétienne : S. J. D. Cohen, « Te Place o the Rabbi in Jewish Society o the Second Century », in L. I. Levine (ed.), Te Galilee in Late Antiquity, Cambridge, 1992, p. 157–173 ; S. J. D. Cohen, « Te Rabbi in second-century Jewish Society », in W. Horbury ; W. D. Davies ; J. Sturdy (eds.), Te Cambridge History o Judaism, Cambridge, 1999, t. III, p. 922–990 qui considère les Sages comme une marginal elite (Voir sur les travaux de ce critique, D. Jaffé, op. cit., Paris, 2007, p. 45–47) ; S. Schwartz, Imperialism and Jewish Society 200 BCE to 640 CE, Princeton, 2001, p. 124 qui écrit : « Te rabbis did not control anything in rural Palestine – not synagogues, not charity collection or distribution, nor anything else ». Dans une autre contribution S. Schwartz considère que c’est le processus tardi de christianisation qui a permis l’affermissement des élites juives (S. Schwartz, « Somes ypes o Jewish-Christian
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être compris comme une démarche édi�catrice d’identité et de pou voir au sein de la société dont les Sages ont partie et dans laquelle ils entendent avoir un rôle dominant.51 Cette piste de recherche propre au judaïsme rabbinique peut être mise en parallèle avec l’analyse des discours des hérésiologues chez les Pères de l’Eglise. Les listes hérésiologiques contre les groupes hétérodoxes ne re�ètent pas nécessairement une position de pouvoir social. Ces discours peuvent être compris au sein d’un processus qui vise à établir un statut de dominance sociale. Ainsi, ces textes seraient davantage les témoins d’une lutte pour s’ériger comme prédominant plutôt qu’un re�et d’une position de dominance sociale déjà obtenue.52 Il va sans dire que cette proposition de recherche demande une étude approondie et qu’il n’est question présentement que de quelques ré�exions. Soulignons également que des divergences de ond existent entre les Sages du almud et les Pères de L’Eglise dans leur souci d’exclusion
Interaction in Late Antiquity », in R. Kalmin ; S. Schwartz (eds.), Jewish Culture and Society under the Roman Empire, Leuven, 2003, p. 197–211) ; D. Boyarin, Border Lines. Te Partition o Judaeo-Christianity, Philadelphie, 2004, p. 20–22. Pour une approche plus maximaliste, on se réérera aux travaux d’historiens principalement israéliens tels A. Oppenheimer, « Te Status o the Sages in the Mishnaic Period : From Model Figures to National-Spiritual Leadership », in I. Gani (ed.), Kehal Israel. Jewish SelRule Trough the Ages. Te Ancient Period, Jérusalem, 2001, t. I, p. 85–102 (heb). Nous espérons dans le utur revenir sur cet important dossier. 51 On notera avec Schremer, « op. cit. », in S. D. Fraade ; A. Shemesh ; R. A. Clements (eds.), Rabbinic Perspectives : Rabbinic Literature and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Proccedings o the Eighth International Symposium o the Orion Center or the Study o the Dead Sea Srolls and Associated Literature, 7–9 January, 2003, Leyde/Boston, 2006, p. 140 que pour pouvoir exclure, il aut non seulement se penser capable de le aire, mais être réellement en position de pouvoir le aire. 52 C. D. Boyarin, op. cit., Philadelphie, 2004, p. 49–54. Les racines méthodologiques de cette approche ont été mis en place par W. Bauer, Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity, Philadelphie, 1971. Notons qu’en dépit de la très grande in�uence qu’a exercé cet ouvrage, ses thèses ont été ortement battues en brèche durant ces dernières années, voir par exemple l’appendice de G. Strecker à l’édition anglaise de ce livre « Te Reception o the Book », p. 286–316 ; la très bonne présentation critique de J. G. Gager, Kingdom and Community. Te Social World o Early Christianity, Englewood Cliffs, 1975, p. 76–92 ; D. Harrington, « Te Reception o W. Bauer’s Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity during the Last Decade », in Harvard Teological Review 73 (1980), p. 289–298 ; . A. Robinson, Te Bauer Tesis Examined : Te Geography o Heresy in the Early Christian Church, Lewiston, 1988 ; R. Williams, « Does it Make Sense to Speak o Pre-Nicene Orthodoxy ? », in Te Making o Orthodoxy : Essays in Honour o Henry Chadwick Cambridge, 1989, p. 1–23 ; en dernière analyse, l’importante étude J. Berlinerblau, « oward a Sociology o Heresy, Orthodoxy, and Doxa », in History o Religions 40 (2000/2001), p. 327–351.
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de l’autre.53 Cependant, il n’est pas à exclure que le moti littéraire de l’affliction de R. Eliézer quant à sa proximité avec les judéo-chrétiens, marque une volonté d’affermir le pouvoir des Sages ace à l’autre et par là même, de signi�er l’hégémonie des premiers sur les seconds. 54 Outre les sources littéraires, ce sont donc des catégories propres au champ de la sociologie de la dominance auxquelles il conviendra d’avoir recours pour mener à bien une telle entreprise.
De même que le ait remarquer M. Goodman, « op. cit., », in Judaism in the Roman World. Collected Essays, Leyde/Boston, p. 169–170 : « By contrast [o the heresiologists], tannaitic rabbis do not seem to have been concerned much o the time either to analyse the precise constituents o minuth or to de�ne their own views in contrast to heresies ». 54 Cette approche se décline sur celle consistant à analyser l’antijudaïsme patristique comme une quête d’identité ou de dé�nition de la oi. Voir à ce niveau les travaux de R. Ruether, Faith and Fratricide : the Teological Roots o Anti-Semitism, New York, 1974 ; R. Ruether, « Te Adversus Judaeos radition in the Church Fathers : the Exegesis o Christian Anti-judaism », in P. E. Szarmach (ed.), Aspects o Jewish Culture in the Middle Ages, Albany, 1979, p. 27–50 (= in J. Cohen, Essential Papers on Judaism and Christianity in Con�ict, New York, 1991, p. 174–189). Ruether déend la thèse selon laquelle l’antijudaïsme patristique traduit un besoin intrinsèque d’autoaffirmation chrétienne. Voir en�n la synthèse de G. G. Stroumsa, Le rire du Christ. Essai sur le christianisme antique, Paris, 2006, p. 159–169 sur ce dossier. 53
“HE LORD SHALL LIF UP HIS COUNENANCE UPON YOU” �NUMBERS 6:26��AN ANI�CHRISIAN POLEMICAL MIDRASH BY HE SAGES? Avinoam Cohen In their midrashim on the verses o the Bible, the Sages o the Mishnah and almud—the anaim and Amoraim—ofen offered interpretations that were ar removed rom any simple logical, textual or contextual reading o the text. Efforts to explore the reasons or these apparently aretched interpretations have uncovered a diverse range o hidden aims on the part o the Sages, which can be attributed to circumstances o time and place. Among these midrashim with a hidden h idden agenda, clear indications can be ound that hint at the �erce theological debate that the Sages o Eretz Israel conducted with their Christian neighbors. Te verse “Te Lord shall lif up His countenance upon you” rom the priestly blessing is cited about orty times in almudic literature as a seeming contradiction to the verse in Deuteronomy 10: 17 “Te Lord who does not lif any countenance [i.e. is not partial] . In this article, article, I suggest that both the pseudo-contradiction created by the Sages and the diverse range o explanations they themselves offered to resolve it are connected to the theological polemic that Judaism conducted with early Christianity. In Si Num 42, a tannaitic midrashic compilation on the book o Numbers, the editor gathered a series o verses which he presented as being contradictory and or which the Sages have offered resolutions. One o these contradictory verses, namely Num 6:26, the �nal verse o the Priestly Benediction, received special attention due to its distinctiveness. ,
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������� ����� “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you”:1 When you stand in prayer, as it says, “And He said to him, “Behold, I have lifed My ace [also or this matter, and I will not annihilate the town o which you have spoken]” (Gen 19:21). And behold one can make an a ortiori (kal vahomer ) argument: I or Lot I lifed up My ace (showed avor) on account o Abraham My lover, or you, should I not ‘lif up my ace’ on account o you and on account o your ancestors.? 2 One verse says, “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you [and grant you peace]”, and another verse says, “[Te God . . .] who lifs up no [ace and takes no bribes]” (Deut 10:17). How can these two verses coexist? [Sire Num 42 (ed. Horowitz, 45–46)]
Te darshan interpreted Num 6:26, “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you”, as i it contained a divine promise to show avor to Israel when dispensing judgment. In other words, when judging Israel, God will tip the scales in their avor.3 He will positively discriminate on their behal. Tis interpretation o the verse creates a contradiction between it and Deut 10:17, “Who lifs up no ace”, according to which God judges the world with strict justice. Everyone receives their just reward or punishment, as it says in 2 Ch 19:7, “or there is no injustice or lifing up o ace (avoritism) 4 or bribe-taking with the Lord our God.” In midrashic and talmudic literature the contradiction between these two verses, Num 6:26 and Deut 10:17, is drawn nearly orty times (many o these are direct parallels). In each o these instances various types o resolutions are offered. Tree are ound in the continuation o the passage rom Si Num quoted above: (1) “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you”—when Israel perorms God’s will; “Who lifs up no ace”, when Israel does not perorm God’s will. (2) “He will lif up His ace”—beore the court’s decision is decreed; “He will not lif
1
Troughout, I have translated verses quoted within midrashim “over-literally” so that the reader will get a sense o the original Hebrew and the linguistic technique o the darshan. My translation “lif up His ace” is usually translated idiomatically as, “He will show avor” or more archaically, “He will shine His countenance” or some similar expression. 2 A similar midrash with only minor variations variations is attributed to R. ahlia ahlia o Caesarea (Kiteria) in GenR 50, 530. Tis amora seems to be rom the generation o R. Johanan’s students (see Aaron Hyman, oledoth annaim ve’Amoraim, Boys own Jerusalem Publishers, Jerusalem 1964, vol. I, 454 [Heb.]). For the manuscript variations in his name see Albeck’s notes, ad loc, n. 4. 3 Tis is how the verse is interpreted in modern modern Biblical dictionaries. 4 Again, this translation is intentionally overly-literal so that one can sense the linguistic connection between the verse’s connection with the main text.
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up His ace”—afer the court’s decision is sealed. (3) “He will lif up His ace”—in this world; “He will not lif up His ace”—in the world to come. Elsewhere in rabbinic literature different resolutions to the contradiction are offered: (4) “He will lif up His ace”—in matters between you and Him (matters between a human being and God); “He will not lif up His ace—in matters between you and your ellow human being.5 (5) “He will lif up His ace”—i he repents; “He will not lif up His ace”—to one who does not repent. 6 (6) “He will lif up His ace”—to Israel; “He will not lif up His ace”—to Gentiles. 7 Tese midrashim are based on two shared suppositions: 1. Te verses do indeed contradict one another. 2. Occasionally God does “lif up His ace,” that is engage in avoritism. Te midrashim disagree as to the resolution o the contradiction, and here we may categorize several different types o resolutions. According to the �rst type o resolution we should understand, “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you” not as avoritism but as a just reward granted to the deserving, to one “who perorms His will” or “has repented.” Te second type o resolution harmonizes the two verses by placing each in a different context, one verse beore the court’s decision and one verse afer; one verse relating to Israel and one verse relating to Gentiles, etc. According to a third approach there is no need whatsoever or a resolution to the con�ict. Te darshan has God admit to avoritism in judging His world, but God eels no need to apologize whatsoever or His behavior. His avoritism towards Israel is justi�ed by their mutual love and affection, each avoring the other: “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you”: When you stand in prayer . . . I or Lot I ‘lifed up my ace’ (showed avor) on account o Abraham my lover, or you, should I not ‘lif up my ace’ on account o you and on account o your ancestors.?
5
SZ Naso 6, 248. Some o the resolutions ound there are are the same as those ound in Si Num (above, at n. 4). 6 anB Naso 18, (ed. Buber, Buber, 34); DeutR, Haazinu 1, (ed. Lieberman, 127). 7 an zav 5. 5.
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R. Ami and R. Asi, Palestinian Sages rom the third and ourth centuries C.E.,8 whose opinion is quoted by R. Avira,9 went even urther when they ascribed to God the claim that His avoritism to Israel was a case o “measure or measure”—He avors Israel in return or the avoritism which they show to Him, their God: R. Avira expounded, sometimes in the name o R. Ami and sometimes in the name o R. Asi: Te ministering angels said in ront o the Holy One, blessed be He: Master o the Universe, it is written in Your orah, “[Te God . . .] who lifs up no ace and takes no bribes”, but do You not lif up Your ace (show avoritism) to Israel, as it is written, “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you”! He said to them: Why should I not show avoritism to Israel? For I wrote or them in My orah, “And you shall eat and be satis�ed and [only then] you shall bless the Lord your God”, and they are exacting upon themselves [to bless even when they eat only the volume] o an olive or [the volume o an] egg. 10 [B Ber 20b]
Tere is also a ourth approach ap proach to this contradiction, a critical approach which seems most accurately to re�ect the “simple” meaning o the verses. Tis approach was broached by the osa�sts,11 the French and German Sages rom the eleventh and twelfh centuries. Te osa�sts were disturbed by the very basis o the midrashic problem o these verses being contradictory, since they held that there was no contradiction at all. According to the peshat (the ‘simple’ meaning o the verses), it does not seem that the verse claims that God shows avoritism, or the verse does not read, “Te Lord will lif up your ace.” Rather it seems [rom the verse “Te Lord will lif up His ace”] that God will turn His own ace towards you to grant you peace . . . It would have been better had the almud raised its difficulty rom the ollowing verse, “Behold, I have lifed your ace [also or this matter, and I will not annihilate the town
8
Both o them are students o R. Yohanan, who died in iberias in 279 C.E. See: SA, 4; ISG, 84. 9 Rav (Rabbi) Avira, a third-ourth generation Palestinian amora, is mentioned only in the Babylonian almud. He requently cites derashot in in the names o R. Ami and R. Asi, beginning them with “sometimes . . .”, as in the derashah cited here. See Albeck, Introduction to the almud, Babli and Yerushalmi, Dvir Co. Ltd., el-Aviv, 1969, 345–346 (Heb.). 10 Tis is similar to the resolution resolution in Si Num (above, at n. 2), and also ascribed ascribed to R. ahlia o Caesarea (above, n. 2). 11 B Nid 70b, s.v. Katuv .
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o which you have spoken]” (Gen 19:21), or rom “And the Lord lifed up Job’s ace” (Job 42:9, see also v. 8).
Te osa�sts raise two difficulties with the midrashim. We shall begin with the second. Why would the talmudic darshan ignore other verses which would demonstrate the contradiction in a more lucid ashion? Gen 19:21 states explicitly that God avored Lot and answered his request. So too in Job 42:9 God grants avor to Job by “lifing up” Job’s ace.12 Second, the osa�sts rightly reject any contradiction at all between the verses. Tey point out that the ‘simple’ meaning o “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you” is not that God will show avor to you or discriminate in your avor. Rather, the verse means to say that the Lord will lif up His ace and turn it in your direction—i.e. He will not ignore you. Te precise wording o the verse indicates that the osa�sts were indeed correct in their interpretation, as was also noted by the medie val rabbinic rabbi nic linguists (and by modern scholars).13 Te simple meaning o “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you” is as R. Abraham ibn Ezra, among others, interpreted: “Tis verse is the opposite o ‘[And when you lif up your hands] I will turn my eyes away rom you’ (Isa 1:15). [Te verse means]—to any place which you turn, His (God’s) ace will be lifed up to you.” Similarly, the Rashbam (R. Samuel b. Meir) a osa�st himsel, ollowed his colleagues, and wrote in his commentary to Num 6:26: “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you”—as it is written, “And My ace will be toward you”14 (Lev 26:9) [which means] He will not hide His ace rom you. And that which it says “He will not lif up His ace” (Deut 10:17), means that the Holy One, blessed be He, will not show avor to a man in order to cleanse him rom his guilt, but he will show His avor 12
Te osa�sts response to this difficulty was that i the darshanim had chosen to use the verses concerning Lot and Job the contradiction between the verses could not have been proven because it might have been possible to explain that God was not showing avoritism but rather giving reward to a righteous person and to his amily (compare above, at n. 6). 13 See or example E. Z. Melamed, Bible Commentators, 2nd Enlarged Edition, Magnes Press, Jerusalem 1978, 478 (Heb.). See also M. Gruzman, “Al Nesiut Hapanim ShebeBirkat Hakohanim,” Shma’atin 29 (2002), 83–87. Gruzman distinguishes between “lifing up the ace” in the moral sphere and the same expression as used in the legal sphere. Below we shall suggest a historical explanation as means to resolve this problem. 14 I.e. I will show avor to you.
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������� ����� to one who loves Him, he will turn to him to grant him grace, as it says, “I will lif up My ace to You and make you ertile” (Lev, ibid.).
Te precise wording o the two verses strengthens the distinction between them, as is mentioned elsewhere by the osa�sts themselves: “Who lifs up no ace”—the simple meaning o the verse is that it reers to the ace o a human being , that God does not grant him avor on account o his greatness or wealth . . . But “Te Lord will lif up His ace”—this reers to the ace o the Divine Presence, who will show you a joyul ace, and not a ace o anger. 15 [B RH 17b, s.v. asher lo isa panim]
Again, the osa�sts are correct as we can easily demonstrate rom the linguistic structure o the two verses: (1) “Te Lord will lif up His ace”—this reers to the ace o the subject o the sentence, that is, the ace o God; “He will not lif up his ace”—this reers to the ace o the direct object, the ace o the people o Israel, as in “And the Lord lifed up Job’s ace” (Job 42:9). (2) “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you”—the preposition is , “to” or “toward” (in your direction). But in the other verse, “Te Lord will lif up his ace”, or in Job “And the Lord lifed up Job’s ace”—there is no preposition, or the verb “lif up ( )” already contains within it the connotation o “lifing up someone else.” 16 Indeed, afer having concluded that according to their simple meaning there is no contradiction at all between the verses, we should mention a tannaitic midrash which begins by presenting the very peshat o o the verses: “Te Lord will lif up His ace”—He will turn His anger away rom you, and turn His ace towards you. One who greets his ellow human being
15
R. Hizkiyah b. Manoah (Hizkuni) explained, “God will be graceul to you to cause you to succeed and to rejoice.” Indeed, M. I. Gruber Writes: “. . . many anatomical expressions in the Semitic languages may be accounted or as descriptions o gestures, postures, or acial expressions . . . Hence PN ‘lif up PN’s ace’ sould be rendered idiomatically ‘cause Pn to t o smile’ while ‘lif up (one’s own) ace’ should be rendered idiomatically ‘smile’” (ZAW 95 [1983], 253. 16 Similarly in several other other places within the Bible, Bible, see or example 2 Sam 2:22 (and 2 Kgs 9:32) in which the preposition el is used, and compare it with Lev 19:15 which does not employ any preposition.
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ace to ace is not the same as one who greets his ellow [while looking] to the side. Rather, “Te Lord will lif up His ace”—he will turn His ace to you.” [SZ Naso 6, , ed. Horowitz, p. 248] 17
* * * As is well known, the rabbinic Sages typically elucidated verses in a peshat’ , their simple meanmanner which did not accord with their ‘ peshat’ ing.18 Hence, this hermeneutical device is reerred to as ‘midrash,’ or peshat’ , the simple meaning o the verse. 19 But i this it is not the ‘ peshat’ hermeneutical activity is so typical, why did the osa�sts speci�cally address this midrash and note that it was not “the simple meaning o the verse”? It seems that two serious problems caused the osa�sts to offer the above interpretation. First o all, the passage in the Babylonian almud upon which they were commenting, presents the contradiction between the two verses as part o an accusation against Israel’s orah, or containing many sel-contradictions, and against Israel’s God, whose justice is cast in doubt. Second, the osa�sts understood, as did Rashi (see below) that the annaim (rabbinic Sages rom the �rst and second centuries) had issued a halakhic ruling due to the mistaken interpretation o “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you.” Tis is based on the ollowing passage rom B Meg 25b: [Mishnah]: Te priestly blessing, the story o David and Amnon are read20 [in public] but not translated. [Gemara]: What is the reason [the priestly blessing is not read]? Because it is written, “[God] will lif up [His ace to you].”
Rashi explains, “So that they should not say, God shows avor to Israel”. Although this is probably not the original explanation or not translating the priestly blessing, Rashi and the osa�sts nevertheless ollowed the Babylonian almud as the authoritative interpretation. In 17
See also NumR 11:7. For a collection o arti�cially created created contradictions between verses interpreted interpreted against their simple meaning see the derashah rom Si Num cited above, at n. 2. 19 See or example the amous story in B an an 5b and its analysis by by Ch. Milikowsky, “Midrash HaAggadah—Reality or Metaphor,” Mahanaim 7 (1994), 34–37. [Heb.] 20 However, some manuscripts contain: “not read”. See zippor (below, n. 22), 168. For the sake o the issue under discussion here, what is important is the version interpreted in the Bavli, or the comments o Rashi and the osa�sts are based on this version. 18
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contrast, in the Palestinian almud (P Meg 4:11, 75c) a completely different reason is provided: “What is the reason [the priestly blessing is not recited]? He said to him, ‘Tus you shall bless’ (Num 6:23)—[the Priestly Benediction] was given to be a blessing and not to be recited,” since they were exacting with regard to the honor due to priests, the emple servants, that it should not be recited by a non-priest, and thereore it could not be translated. 21 Scholars have long deliberated over the variant versions o this halakhah and the proper interpretation to this midrash in the Palestinian almud.22 With all o this in mind, we must ask why the Sages generally did perceive the two verses under discussion to be contradictory. Why did they deend themselves rom a potential theological attack against their orah and their God instead o denying that there was any contradiction? Why did the darshanim preer to harmonize the supposedly contradictory verses with ofen weak resolutions, resolutions not based on the precise wording verses themselves, instead o reerring Israel’s
21
See the Palestinian Palestinian custom below, n. 22. J. Heinemann, “Birkat Kohanim . . . Lo Nikret veLo Mitargemet,” Studies in Jewish 6 [1968], Liturgy, Te Magnes Press, Jerusalem 1981, 90–98 [Heb.] (= Bar Ilan Annual 6 33–41) believed it to be unreasonable that there could have been a prohibition against reading the Priestly Benediction as part o the public orah reading. He thereore tried to explain that the prohibition entered the Mishnah due to its similar linguistic style with the other prohibitions in MMeg but that it originally meant something different entirely. According to Heineman, the correct and original interpretation o “the Priestly Benediction is not read” is that it is not read directly rom the written orah but rather recited by memory, even though generally “that which is written you may not recite by memory” (B Git 60b and parallels). D. Henshke, “Mah Raui Lehastir bikriat Hamikra? Al Mikraot veargumim sheKriatam Ne’esra,” Kenishta— Mehkarim Al Bet Haknesset veOlamo v. I, Ramat-Gan, 2001, ed. J. abory, appendix, 39–42 [Heb.], disagreed with Heineman’s suggestion and accepted the explanation o earlier scholars. Te meaning o “Te Priestly Benediction is not read” is that in Palestine the custom was to skip over the reading o the Priestly Benediction (or at least its mentions o the name o God). Tis passage was skipped in the cyclical orah reading so as not to offend the priests by having their benediction benediction recited by a nonpriest. Tis is the meaning o “Tus you shall bless—it was given to be a blessing and not a recitation” (see op. cit., 42, or manuscript variations.) At a later stage the prohibition was limited to the public translation o the benediction, and eventually the prohibition was dropped altogether. For another interpretation see M. zippor, “Birkat Kohanim—Lo Nikrain veLo Mitargamin?” Mehkarei Morashtenu 2–3 ( Seer ), Rehovot 2004, 173–174. He suggests that “the Priestly Zikaron or Dr. zvi Betzer ), Benediction” in this mishnah originally, “was a euphemism or the acts o the children o Eli (mainly those described in 1 Sam 2:22).” Te intention was to prevent public mention o their scandalous behavior. 22
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accusers to Hebrew grammar? Why did they not just tell them that the very oundation o their theological question was aulty? 23 We might answer these difficulties by simply assuming that the Sages themselves were unaware o the peshat , the simple meaning, o “God will lif up His ace to you.” However, this is a most difficult assumption, as Jonah Frankel has written: Tere is no doubt that the midrashic authors were always aware o what they typically reer to as the “seemingly correct” interpretation o the biblical phrase. Tat is to say they were aware o the literal and ‘usual’ interpretation o the biblical word and o the meaning o the biblical verse.24
Second, above25 we quoted a tannaitic midrash which demonstrated that its authors were indeed aware o the simple meaning o the verse. Tus the later darshanim were probably also aware o the peshat , as were the osaot and the medieval biblical commentators, Ibn Ezra and the Rashbam. I so, why do we not �nd other places where these darshanim deny that the verses contradict one another? Tird, the case under discussion is not one in which the Sages just happened upon a verse and interpreted it. Te entire reason or their having to explain this verse is the theological debate in which it was employed, as we shall see below. Tis debate orced the Sages to search or a resolution that would avert the theological problems inherent in the verse rom Numbers. Tere were many polemical debates between the Sages and their opponents, and usually it is related in rabbinic literature that the Sages enthusiastically responded with convincing answers.26 It is difficult thereore to assume that they ound no one who could inorm them that the verses are simply not contradictory. Finally, we can assume that the ancient Aramaic targumim 27 were readily available to the rabbinic Sages. At the least argum Onkelos,
23
As the Rabbis did on other occasions. See or instance R. Gamaliel himsel himsel in his polemics against a min (B Yeb 102b, quoted below, at n. 49). R. Gamaliel calls the min an idiot or not understanding a preposition used in the verse. 24 J. Frankel, Darkhei Haagadah veHamidrash [Te Methodology o the Aggada and the Midrash.] [Heb.], v. I (Masada Ltd., Givatayim, 1991), 83. 25 Above, at n. 17. 26 See or instance below, at n. 29–30, and in a various various other tannaitic and amoraic sources. See or example the series o provocative and antagonistic theological polemics in which the Rabbis participated in B San 38b–39a. 27 Te ancient targumim, Septuagint and Peshitta, translate translate the verse according to the “peshat” interpretation as I have explained it here.
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who translates the verse, “God will turn His ace to you” was certainly known to them. In short, the the Rabbis’ consistently elt need to resolve a contradiction, which seems not to have even existed, is a conundrum. Can it be merely coincidental that the �rst Sages to discuss the contradiction between the two verses under discussion (or perhaps, more accurately, the �rst to note this contradiction) were Sages rom the early Yavnean period,28 the annaim who were active afer the destruction o the emple (70 C.E.) and the loss o the residual political independence o Judea? Below I will suggest that the intense rabbinic preoccupation with the supposed contradiction between these two verses is a result o their polemics against the early Christians. First o all, let us present the sources which attribute this material to the Yavnean generation: 1. B RH 17b29 Beluria the proselyte asked Rabban Gamaliel. It says in your orah, “Who doesn’t lif up His ace” and it says, “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you.” R. Jose the priest dealt with her and said, “I will draw or you a parable. o what is this similar? o a man who lent his neighbor a maneh (one hundred zuz) and set a time [or repayment] beore the king, and the [borrower] swore beore the king [that he would repay the loan]. Te time came and he did not pay the loan back. He came beore the king to appease him. Te king said to him, “I orgive your insult to me, [but] go and appease your ellow!” So too here, [one verse] reers to sins between a man and God, and the other reers to sins between a man and his ellow. [Tis explanation was accepted] until R. Akiba came and taught, “One verse reers to beore the court’s decision is decreed, and the other reers to afer the court’s decision is decreed.”30
All three annaim mentioned in this story are Yavnean Sages: Rabban Gamaliel, the Nasi, R. Yose the priest, one o R. Yohanan b. Zakkai’s
28
In this article I ocus on the period in which this theological theological debate �rst arose. In a later period we �nd that Sages continued to ocus on this theological problem (see above, at n. 8). 29 All the names and content o the dialogue are con�rmed by other textual evidence. In Munich 140 the name is Beruriah instead o Baluria. Baluria the proselyte in mentioned with her slaves and handmaidens in two parallel sources: Mek Bo 15, 57 and B Yeb 46a. 30 Te same tradition appears in in YalqShim, Naso, p. 711. Te tradition in SZ (above, n. 5) is different and there R. Akiva relates to different verses.
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students,31 and R. Akiva, one o the last Sages o the Yavnean era, and one o the spiritual leaders o the Bar Kokhba revolt. 2. B Nid 69b–70b: Te Rabbis taught: Te people o Alexandria asked R. Joshua b. Hananiah concerning twelve matters:32 three were matters o wisdom, three were matters o aggadah, three were nonsense, and three were matters o proper conduct . . . Tree were matters o aggadah . . . One verse states, “[Te God . . .] who lifs up no ace and takes t akes no bribes” (Deut 10:17) and another verse states, “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you” (Num 6:26). One verse reers to beore the court’s decision is decreed, and the other reers to afer the court’s decision is decreed.
R. Joshua b. Hananyah, the student o the ounder o the yeshiva in Yavneh, R. Johanan b. Zakkai, beriended the Roman nobility and was involved in numerous theological polemics, with them and with sectarians. 33 3. SZ Naso 6, (ed. Horowitz, 248) R. Jose b. Dostai says: One verse says, “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you,” and another verse says, “[Te God . . .] who lifs up no ace” (Deut 10:17), how can both o these verses coexist? “Te Lord will lif up His ace”—in matters between you and Him, “Te God who lifs up no ace”—in matters between you and your ellow man. R. Akiba says: One verse says . . . rom here Ben Azzai would say . . .
Based on the appearance o R. Jose b. Dostai (or Dosai, Dosta) in other places in rabbinic literature, it is possible to locate him as having lived toward the end o the Yavnen period. 34 We also �nd him in other places dealing with various contradictions between biblical verses. 35 We can thus summarize the �ndings mentioned above:
31
See Hyman, oldot annaim veAmoraim, 740–741; M. Margalioth, Encyclopedia o almudic and Geonic Sages , Yavneh Publishing House, reprinted 1981, vol. II, 550 [Heb.]. 32 Tis is how the text should should read. Te Vilna edition reads: Hinena. 33 See Hyman, oldot annaim veAmoraim, 626–630. 34 See Hyman, oldot annaim veAmoraim, 720–721. Rabbi [Judah Hanasi] transmits statements in his name (M 12:5, 48 [ed. Hoffman]=B Zev 116b). R. Jose b. Dostai transmits a statement in the name o R. Jose Hagelili, a sage who was older than R. Elazar b. Azaryah, the Patriarch in Yavneh (P Ket 11:3, 34b). He also explains the intent o [R. Simon] b. Azai (B BK 13a), a sage who was one o the students o R. Joshua b. Hananya, an elder sage in the Yavnean period and one o the older students o R. Akiba (or reerences see Hyman, ibid., 1207). 35 See Si Num, 47–48 (the continuation o the passage cited above, at n. 2).
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A. Te ollowing ollowing seems to be certain: (1) Te Rabbis portrayed the two verses as contradicting each other. (2) Tey attempted attempted to harmonize them by employing various resolutions. (3) Te verses, according to their peshat , do not actually a ctually contradict one another. (4) Te �rst Sages to contend with the supposed contradiction and its resolution were three annaim rom the same generation: R. Gamaliel, the patriarch at Yavneh afer the destruction o the Second emple, and two o his colleagues, R. Joshua b. Hananyah and R. Jose the priest. B. We may assume with near certainty that the Rabbis knew that there was no real contradiction between the verses. Tey had to have been aware o the simple meaning o these two verses. C. We are lef with the ollowing problem: Why would the Rabbis have bothered to resolve an arti�cially created contradiction, i they could have easily denied this contradiction’s very existence, a denial which would have strengthened their position in their theological debate with the minim? In my opinion the resolution to this perplexing problem lies in the act that the texts dealing with the contradiction between these verses originated in the early Yavnean period. Te destruction o the emple, the loss o the residual political independence o Judea, the spread o Christianity and its missionary activity, all had an in�uence on the theological debate between Jews and Christians. It is well known that this debate ound its expression in the Sages’ homiletic interpretations o Biblical verses rom that time on, during the tannaitic and amoraic periods.36 Heineman, in his undamental research on rabbinic aggadah, writes: “among the verses that have been claimed by the Rabbis to be contradictory, there are ound no small number in which no contradiction can actually be ound, save or that which exists in the inten-
36
See, or instance, Urbach, Eraim Elimelech, Te Sages, their Concepts and Belies (trans. rom the Hebrew: Israel Abrahams), Magnes Press, Press, Jerusalem 1975, pp. 302– 304, 525 ff., 542–543.
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tion o the commentator (the darshan).”37 In this context, Heineman’s words: “in the intention o,” reer to the darshan’s interest in the existence or creation o a contradiction, allowing him to“draw out rom the contradiction some positive use—especially in a methodological sense.”38 Frankel has a similar view: “Te commentator does not look or the original meaning and the original contexts o the text but or a way o using the original text in order to express the new contents that are important in his eyes”. 39 Te silence on the part o the commentator regarding his true intention, led Segal to describe the work o the scholar as: trying to identiy the contemporary rabbinic and Jewish reaction to the rise o Christianity requires something like detective work. Any discussion o heresy in rabbinic literature, even where Christianity is not mentioned by name, may be obliquely describing Christian belies. Hidden in some late rabbinic discussion o heresy may be the clue to the �rstcentury rabbinic views o Christians [My emphasis] 40
As is well-known, the Sages at Yavneh, rom the time o the students o R. Johanan b. Zakai through the Bar Kokhba revolt (c. 80–135 C.E.), engaged in numerous theological debates with the minim (sectarians), especially with the early Christians who lived in close proximity to them. Tis has already been described by Alon in his oundational work on the history o the rabbinic period. He writes, “Rabban Gamaliel o Yavneh’s court made a decision which would have tremendous impact on the rest o history: . . . the Jewish-Christians could no longer be considered part o the Jewish Community nor o the Jewish People”. 41 Tis reers to the court that rejected the Jewish-Christians rom the Jewish people by establishing the benediction against the heretics ( ) in the Amidah prayer,42 as well as other means. Afer the discovery in the
37
See I. Heineman, Darkhei HaAgadah, (Magnes & Masada, Reprinted: Givatayim, 1974), 58. See also ibid. p. 182. 38 Ibid., p. 59. 39 Frankel (above n. 24), p. 11. 40 Alan F. Segal , , Rebbecca’s Rebbecca’s Children—Judaism and Christianity Christianity in the Roman World, Harvard Univ. Press, Cambridge & London 1986, p. 148. On Rabbinic reerences to Christianity, see pp. 147–151. I am grateul to Dr. Dan Jaffe, or providing me with this and additional bibliographical reerences concerning the early Jewish-Christian polemics. 41 G. Alon, Te Jews in their Land in the almudic Age (70–640 C.E.), rans. & edited: G. Levi, v. I, (Te Magnes Press, Jerusalem, 1980), 307. 42 Ibid., pp. 288–294; 307.
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Cairo Genizah o versions o the Amidah rom Palestinian origins, 43 “there remains no doubt” that this prayer was directed mainly against the Christians.44 In a similar vain Wilson writes: afer 70 CE the Rabbis at Yavneh deliberately initiated a number o anti-Christian actions, which became one o the major causes, i not the major cause, o the Jewish-Christian schism.45
In the Yavnean period we �nd a member o R. Gamaliel’s generation expressing an opinion close to R. Gamaliel’s world view: “R. Eliezer (b. Hyrkanus) says: Be diligent in studying orah, and in what you reply to an apikoros concerning the words o orah so that it should (“ not be contradictory ( ”).46 Similarly, in MAvot 2:14, we �nd the ollowing recommendation: “Know how to respond to an apikoros”. Here the aphorism is attributed to R. Elazar [b. Arakh] ,47 who was also 43
Since the publication o Alon’s work, the many versions o the “Benediction against the Heretics” have been surveyed by Luger, Te Weekday Amidah Prayer according to the Cairo Genizah , (Jerusalem, 2001), 133–143. [Heb.] Nine o the manuscripts which Luger discussed and another nine Geniza ragments mention “Christians” (with variant spellings) or “heretics ( minim)” (ibid., 133). For a detailed list o works which deal with this blessing and the identi�cation o the “ minim”, and whether it existed prior to R. Gamaliel, see ibid., 136, n. 6–7, as well as Luger’s other notes throughout this discussion. In any case, rom all o these studies it seems likely that even i the benediction existed beore R. Gamaliel, in the Yavnean period the Sages reworded the benediction in order to ocus it against the rising threat presented by the Christians. For urther support o the supposition that the “Benediction against the Heretics” was directed at least partly against Christians see Rokeah (below, n. 50), Introduction, 4–7, and reerence in Alon (above, n. 41), n. 53; William, Horbury, Jews and Christians in Contact and Controversy , Edinburgh : & Clark, Edinburgh, 1998, p. 67 ff. On the scholarly polemics with regard to the intended audience o Dialogue with rypho see ibid. 44 Alon, ibid., 306. We must admit that it is somewhat difficult to determine whether versions o this blessing in which the words, “heretics (minim)” or “Christians,” are missing re�ect the earlier version, closer to the original, or a later variant version in which these words have been removed, perhaps due to the pressures o a censor. See Luger, ibid, 133–134. 45 Wilson, S. G., Related strangers : Jews and Christians, 70–170 C.E, Fortress Pr., Minneapolis ,1995, p. 176. For these anti-Christian actions, see his discussion pp. 176–194. For a general survey o the anti-Jewish arguments and accusastons by the Christians, see pp. 285–301; Wilson, S. G, Anti-Judaism in Early Christianity , Wilrid Laurier Univ. Pr., Waterloo, 1986. 46 ARN B, end o chapter 30 (ed. Schechter, 66). It should be noted that the words in bold are absent rom version A, and that the editor writes in n. 18 concerning the word “ ” (“contradict”) “the meaning o this word is not entirely clear to me.” In addition, see Heineman (above, n. 37), 58–60. 47 Tis attribution is proven correct by by the context o previous mishnayot, 2: 10–13 and by the various manuscripts. See Sh. Sharvit, ractate Avot Trough the Ages
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a disciple o R. Johanan b. Zakai and a member o the early Yavnean generation. In the Babylonian almud we �nd sources (albeit without speci�c parallels in Palestinian works. See below) which ascribe to the minim o the Yavnean period provocations and accusations against Israel. For instance, a min hints to R. Joshua b. Hananyah through a hand gesture that afer the destruction o the emple God has abandoned his people Israel.48 Another min goads R. Gamaliel, relying on Hos 5:6, by claiming that the God o Israel has not only abandoned them, He will never again return them to Him, or the verse compares God’s abandoning Israel to one who perorms halitzah (the release rom levirate marriage) or his sister-in-law (“ ”), and one who has perormed halitzah with a woman can never again take her as a wie. 49 Tese stories, as well as those brought above—concerning the midrash on the verse “God will Lif up His Face o You” —are attributed to the Yavnean Sages. One could attempt to dismiss the historic reliability o these stories, since they are documented only in the Babylonian almud. Afer all, these stories are purported to take place in the land o Israel: why are they only mentioned in the Bavli? However, this argument can be reuted on a number o counts. First, the stories do accurately re�ect the Jewish-Christian polemics in Palestine during that era. We �nd, or instance, in Justin Martyr’s polemical work, Dialogue with rypho ,50 his claims that the Christians are the true Israel, and that the Jews were spurned by God or having rejected and subsequently murdered Jesus. 51 Tereore, although the sources are Babylonian, they are supported by external sources. Second, why should we doubt the historic h istoric reliability o the questions posed by the people o Alexandria to R. Joshua b. Hananiah concerning the verse “God will Lif up His Face o You”—i we �nd them [Heb.] (A Critical Edition, Prolegomena and Appendices) , Bialik Institute, Jerusalem 2004, 96–97, 106, and previous pages. 48 B Hag 5b. Te same tradition is ound in all textual textual witnesses. 49 B Yeb 102b, 102b, con�rmed by all textual witnesses. 50 Ed. David Rokeah (translated [to Heb.] rom the Greek, with introduction and commentary), Jerusalem, 2005. For a biographical sketch o Justin Martyr’s lie and works see ibid, 2–4. For an English translation, see: Te Ante-Nicene athers: ranslations o the writings o the athers down to A.D. 325. ed. A. Roberts and J. Donaldson; rev. and chronologically arranged, with brie preaces and occasional notes by A. Cleveland Coxe. Vol. I, Grand Rapids : Eerdmans, 1973: Te T e Apostolic Fathers with Justine Martyr and Irenus, 267–268. 51 Ibid., 307–308, 309–310.
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doing the same thing in other contexts, including those documented in a Palestinian source? 52 Similarly, Beluria the proselyte is involved in other incidents which were brought beore the Sages to be judged. Tese incidents, unlike aorementioned Babylonian source, appear in annaitic sources independent o the Bavli. 53 It is difficult to believe that all o these stories—appropriate chronologcially and with respect to the people involved—are mere inventions o late redactors. Tird, it is well known that the Aggadic and even Halachkic materials are not always similar in the Bavli and Yerushalmi; what is ound in one many times is lacking in the other. Scholarship has tended to concentrate on Palestinian material ound in the Bavli, however, the opposite phenomenon should not be ignored. Tere are numerous cases o Babylonian sugyot (statements and discussions o Babylonian Sages) which appear only in the Yerushalmi and not in the Bavli .54 Tereore, conclusions similar to those drawn regarding the Babylonian material ound in the Yerushalmi could be drawn concerning the Palestinian material ound in the Bavli. Just because the material is lacking in the Yerushalmi does not mean that it did not make its way to Babylonia rom Palestinian sources.55 In short, we should not dismiss the reliablity o the stories under discussion (which are purported to take place in the land o Israel), simply because they are ound only in the Babylonian almud. One o the principal purposes o midrash was to offer moral and spiritual support to the Jewish people while they had not yet reco vered rom the religious crisis brought about by the destruction o the emple and were also suffering rom the difficult economic situation under Roman rule. In connection with our topic, the Jews at this time were being vehemently attacked in theological polemics, as early Christianity began to gather strength and claim that the crisis among the Jews was proo that God had abandoned Israel. Philosophers and theologians took aim at the orah, directing their verbal arrows at its 52
See: osefa, Negaim 9:9 (p. 630). See B Yeb 46a, corresponding to Mechkilta de-Rabbi de-Rabbi Ishmael, Bo, 15 (ed. H.S. Horovitz and I. A. Rabin) Jerusalem 1970, p. 57. 54 See Yoel Flursheim, “ Sugyot Bavliyot ba-Yerushalmi Neziqin”, Sinai 120 (1997) pp. 53–85; 161–182. 55 Te phenomenon itsel is known but yet, not its extent. For a large amount o illustrations, see J. N. Epstein, Mevo’ot le-Sirut ha-Amoraim, Jerusalem 1962, p. 292 ff. See also ibid. n. 52. 53
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internal contradictions (in our case, contradictions between verses), and against God’s attributes (in our case, a denial o divine justice). We can thereore advance the hypothesis that the questions asked to the Sages at Yavneh on the verse “Te Lord will lif up His ace to you” represented a broader theological polemic. Perhaps it is not coincidental, that these questions arose speci�cally rom the very verse which contains the blessing or the entire people, the priestly blessing. Tose attacking Israel made the verse, whose simple meaning is that God will turn his ace towards His people Israel in order to grant them peace (osaot, see above) and in order to de�ect His anger (Si Num and Rashi), into an accusation against Israel’s orah and its God. Because their aggressive attacks on Israel’s orah and God centered on Num 6:26, every Jew would be reminded o them daily, at the very moment while he is being blessed, through the very blessing upon which he hung his hopes in that difficult hour. 56 Te Rabbis apparently deliberated between two possible responses to these attacks. On the one hand, it must have been comorting or them to claim that God does indeed avor His people Israel, since discrimination in their avor is testimony to His continuing affection or them and to the act that He has not turned away rom them, as Jews say in one o their estival prayers, “You have chosen us rom all o the nations, You have loved us and desired us . . .” In the ace o spiritual crisis this claim would have encouraged the people to continue to preserve the Jewish tradition. It would have comorted them rom their sorrows. It would have also provided an answer to their accusers, or in their mistaken interpretation o the verse they were tacitly admitting that God does avor Israel and showers the Jews with His affection. Why would the Rabbis have wished to deny this positive interpretation o the verse and its accompanying a ccompanying theological position?57 On the other hand, by accepting this interpretation o the verse, an interpretation inconsistent with the verses’ simple meaning, they were orced to deal with an ostensible contradiction. Te Rabbis preerred 56
Perhaps with this background we can understand the Babylonian interpretation interpretation as to why the priestly blessing was not translated (above, at n. 20 ff). Afer all, the is not determinative but rather how the verses might be mistakenly interpreted peshat is by the community, and how as a result this might open the door to an accusation (mistaken as it may be) against the God o Israel and His orah. 57 Regarding the importance to the Rabbis that the positive attitude o God to His people should be known and publicly emphasized “in the eyes o the nations,” see or instance Moses’s request rom God in ExR 51:4.
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to accept this midrashic, non- peshat , meaning to the verse, since the resolution to the arti�cial contradiction afforded them an opportunity to contend with various religious values, as we have seen above. Tese include the idea that God shows avor (“God will lif His ace to you”) only to those who repent, or only to Israel when they perorm His will, or only or sins committed against Him (and not or sins committed against other human beings). Finally, with these theological polemics helping us understand the historical background to these texts, we may not be surprised to �nd that, among the different resolutions, one baldly states that God does indeed show avor to Israel ,58 but to the nations o the world, “God does not show avor or take bribes.” 59
58
Above, at n. 7. Tis may also provide a clue as to why the darshanim did not choose more appropriate verses to denote the contradiction between the two verses (as the osa�sts asked, above, at n. 11). It served the Rabbis’ interest to employ verses where God’s discrimination in their avor is national , avor to the nation o Israel, and not personal as it was to Lot or Job. For a response to the second difficulty raised by the osa�sts, see above, n. 12. 59
JEWISH ORIGINS OF CHRISIANIY
ON HE JEWISH BACKGROUND OF CHRISIANIY* Daniel R. Schwartz Any discussion o the Jewish background o Christianity may easily be organized around three historical �gures, on the one hand, and three ways o de�ning Jews, on the other. Namely, the story o early Christianity is easily organized around the names o John the Baptist, Jesus o Nazareth and Paul, and the de�nition o Jews in antiquity—“Who was a Jew?”—is just as easily organized around three separate criteria: place (Jews as Judaeans), pedigree (Jews as children o Jews), and religion (Jews as adherents o Judaism, which is a complex o belie and practice). What I would like to suggest, however brie�y, is that Christianity appeared as a result o the con�uence o certain processes in poles o the Jewish world represented, respectively, by John, Jesus and Paul. Tese processes, I will suggest, undermined the importance, or the de�nition o a person as being Jewish, o Jewish place, o Jewish pedigree, and also o the practical side o the Jewish religion, thus allowing or the appearance o a type o Judaism that de�nes its adherents by common belie alone. First the poles: John, Jesus and Paul are products o different parts o the ancient Jewish world. John and Jesus were both rom Palestine, but rom different parts: John seems to have been rom the south and also to have been associated (directly or indirectly) with Qumran, 1 Jesus was rom the Galilee. Later we will see something o the different oci o these two settings. Now it is enough to note that we may assume that Aramaic was the main language in Palestine, although
* Tis paper is, to a large extent, an updated and revised version o the introductory chapter to my 1992 Studies (below, n. 36). 1 By which I mean that whereas prior to the Qumran discoveries we had no way o explaining the historical background that produced John, today Qumran can do that or us, although we have no way o knowing the precise channels or nature o his relationship to it. Most o what is essential here was already said a ew years afer the Scrolls started appearing; see W. Brownlee, “John the Baptist in the New Light o Ancient Scrolls”, in: Te Scrolls and the New estament (ed. K. Stendahl; New York: Harper, 1957) 33–53. For a later discussion, based on another generation’s worth o publications o texts and studies, see R. L. Webb, “John the Baptist”, in Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls 1 (2000) esp. 420–421.
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probably some Hebrew, and perhaps even some Greek, should also be assumed2—and that sets both John and Jesus off rom Paul. For the latter was clearly associated with the Hellenistic diaspora (with which we know o no connections o John or Jesus): he was rom arsus (Acts 9:11), which was “no mean city” (ibid. 21:39), a center o Hellenistic culture on the southeastern coast o modern urkey, his career was mostly in the Hellenistic diaspora, and Greek was clearly his �rst language, whatever Aramaic and Hebrew he may have also picked up.3 As or the three criteria o being a Jew—this requires some initial exposition. oday we are used to debates about “Who is a Jew?” because ofen it happens that two criteria, pedigree and religion, do not agree one with another. Most usually, the questions arise concerning people o non-Jewish birth who desire to be Jews by religion, and the question becomes one o the legitimacy or sincerity o this or that conversion process. Sometimes, inversely, the question reers instead to someone o Jewish birth who does not adhere to the Jewish religion or even adheres to another religion, such as the amous case o Daniel Rueisen (“Brother Daniel”), a Polish Jew who had become a Catholic monk and wanted to gain Israeli citizenship via Israel’s Law o Return that grants that right to “Jews.” 4 In antiquity, however, there was also a third criterion that complicated matters, or the word “Jew”—Yehudi in Hebrew, Ioudaios in Greek, Yehudai in Aramaic— meant, �rst o all “Judaean.” 5 Accordingly, when someone claimed to 2
See Ch. Rabin’s chapter on Hebrew and Aramaic and G. Mussies’ on Greek in: Te Jewish People in the First Century , II (Compendia Rerum Iudaicarum ad Novum estamentum, 1/2, ed. S. Sarai and M. Stern; Assen: van Gorcum, 1976) 1007–1039 and 1040–1064. 3 Tis is amply testi�ed by his writings, whatever one thinks o the claim that he was also educated in Jerusalem (Acts 22:3). See W. C. van Unnik, arsus or Jerusalem: Te City of Paul’s Youth (London: Epworth, 1962); W. W. Gasque, “arsus”, in: 6 (1992) 334. Anchor Bible Dictionary 6 4 See, in general: S. Z. Abramov, Perpetual Dilemma: Jewish Religion in the Jewish State (Rutherord, New Jersey: Fairleigh Dickinson Univ., 1976). For a ascinating modern initiative and anthology on this issue, see: B. Litvin, Jewish Identity:
Modern Responsa and Opinions on the Registration of Children of Mixed Marriages: David Ben-Gurion’s Query to Leaders of World Jewry—A Documentary Compilation (ed. S. B. Hoenig; Jerusalem: Feldheim, 1970). 5 Josephus preserves, in Against Apion 1.179, quite an eloquent and authoritative example o this understanding, in a passage rom Clearchus o Soli that quotes Aristotle as having explained that philosophers in Coele-Syria are called Ioudaioi because they reside in that part o Syria which is called Ioudaia (Judaea); or text and commentary, see M. Stern, Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, I (Jerusalem: Israel
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be a Jew in antiquity, or others called a person a Jew, it might mean that he or she was rom Judaea, or o Jewish descent, or an adherent o the Jewish religion—or any combination thereo.6 �� F���� ����� P����� Speaking quite generally, as the current ramework requires, it seems that although all three criteria o being a Jew were always around to some extent in antiquity, each had a period in which it made the most sense and, thereore, was dominant. Te �rst hal o the �rst millennium B.C.E., the period o the First emple, seems to have been a period in which the territorial criterion dominated. Tis was the period in which the orah spoke repeatedly o its laws applying both to the and to the ger ha-gar betokhekhem—to native-born people and ’ezrah ̣ ̣ and to people who came to live among us (Exodus 12:49; Numbers 15:16; etc.): what matters is where—in Whose jurisdiction (c. Deuteronomy 32:8–9 and Judges 11:24!)—you live. Similarly, this was the period in which David is said to have complained to Saul that by orcing him to �ee “God’s ancestral land” he is being orced to worship other gods too (1 Sam 26:19), just as the exiled temple singers quoted in Ps. 137 say that they it doesn’t make sense or them to sing “songs o Zion” in a oreign land; afer all, songs o Zion are “the Lord’s songs” and singing them abroad makes as little sense as raising the French �ag in the middle o London. Or, or a �nal example, this is the period in which Ruth is said to have undertaken her commitment that “your people shall be my people and your God—my God” (1:16) only upon moving to the land o Israel. Beore that it would have been an impossible or meaningless statement.
Academy o Sciences and Humanities, 1974) 49–52. In general see, on this point, S. Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems o Categorization in Ancient History,” Journal for the Study of Judaism 38 (2007) esp. 457–480. 6 See D. R. Schwartz, “‘Judaean’ or ‘Jew”? How Should we ranslate Ioudaios in Josephus?”, in: Jewish Identity in the Greco-Roman World: Jüdische Identität in der griechisch-römischen Welt (Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 71, ed. D. R. Schwartz, J. Frey, and S. Gripentrog; Leiden: Brill, 2007) 3–27.
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Tis attitude, which is bespoken by other biblical texts as well,7 made perect sense or a period in which the Jews, or the Israelites as we were then called, had a sovereign state in their own land and did not have a diaspora. In such a period, it made sense to say that we are the people o a certain land. Afer the Babylonians destroyed the monarchy and the �rst temple, however, in the sixth century B.C.E., and exiled huge numbers o Judaeans to Babylonia, all that changed. Namely, i hitherto there had been a sovereign Israelite state (or two) in Palestine and no diaspora to speak o, rom then on, there was (with a Hasmonean exception) no sovereign Jewish state and there was a diaspora—and quite a large one: in those days, just as today, more people recognized as Jews by themselves, and by others, live outside o the land o Israel than within it. So although the territorial de�nition o being Jewish was not discarded, it made less sense, and another one—not totally new, o course, but now more prominent—came to the ore: pedigree. Jews are now perceived, �rst o all, as people who are o Jewish birth.8 Tus, or example, the Jewish author o the Book o Esther imitates reality by having the villain’s wie, Zeresh, reer to the Jews as zera ha yehudim (Esther 6:13)—those o Jewish seed . Jews did the same: this is the period in which Ezra and Nehemiah move to orbid intermarriage because it constitutes, as Ezra 9:2 puts it, in explaining the expulsion o non-Jewish wives, a de�lement o the Jewish seed —zera ha-qodesh.9 We should note, in this context, that this is a point o view that made perect sense not only as a allback position, since the land no longer worked to de�ne the collective, but also because what the Jews 7
Note esp. 2 Kings 17, where “the God o the land” (vv. 26–27) compels new settlers transplanted to northern Israel to worship Him. 8 Tere was another option, tried out out already in the Persian period: period: constituting the Jews as a voluntary community o people committed to common rules; so Nehemiah 10. But that played only a secondary role in the Persian period. Later, however, it would basically provide the precedent or sectarianism. See esp. M. Smith, “Te Dead Sea Sect in Relation to Ancient Judaism”, New estament Studies 7 (1961) 347–360 = idem, Studies in the Cult of Yahweh, I (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 130, ed. S. J. D. Cohen; Leiden: Brill, 1996) 168–183. 9 On this episode see, most recently: S. Japhet, “Te Expulsion o the Foreign Women (Ezra 9–10): Te Legal Basis, Precedents, and Consequences or the De�nition o Jewish Identity”, in: eshurah Le-‘Amos: Collected Studies in Biblical Exegesis Presented to ‘Amos Hakham (ed. M. Bar-Asher, N. Hacham, Y. Oer; Alon Shevut: evunot, 2007) 379–401 (in Hebrew).
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did have, in the absence o a state, was a emple: the Persians (who took over rom the Babylonians) allowed the Jews a emple, and it was o course run by Jewish priests. Teir prestige in this period is very obvious in numerous contemporary texts, including the panegyrics in Malachi 2:4–7; their status is also indicated by various epigraphic �nds, such as coins minted by high priests in the Persian period.10 Since, however, Jewish priests are de�ned by their birth, their dominant status in this period meant that pedigree in general was very important in this period: the priests’ status proved that descent was not a bagatelle, something indifferent like the color o one’s hair. Tat is: i mere descent rom Aaron was good enough to de�ne priests and give them special status and nearness to God, and mere descent rom Levi (although not via Aaron) was good enough to give the Levites too more sanctity and prestige than other Jews, it made sense to go on the same way and posit that descent rom Abraham, that is—a Jewish pedigree—was good enough to de�ne Jews in general. Which is precisely the point o view bespoken by Ezra, when he spoke o the difference between Jews and non-Jews as being between those who are o zera ha-qodesh and those who are not. H��������, H���������� D�������, ��� P��� Te arrival o Hellenism, in the person o Alexander the Great and his successors, put an end to the Persian period and brought another criterion to the ore. For Hellenism—Greek culture in the East—by its very nature undercut the importance o place and pedigree, and instead ocused upon the importance o culture. 11 Beginning with the late ourth century B.C.E., the world in which the Jews lived became �lled with people called “Greeks” although they had never lived in Greece, and although they were o non-Greek descent. Rather, they were called Greeks because they spoke Greek and adopted Greek
See Y. Meshorer, A reasury of Jewish Jewish Coins (Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, and Nyack, New York: Amphora, 2001) 14–17. 11 For an of-quoted passage to this effect rom Isocrates, Panegyricus 50, which praises Athens or turning “Hellenes” into a term that denotes those who share Greek culture, not just Greek physis, see S. J. D. Cohen, Te Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (Hellenistic Culture and Society 31; Berkeley: Univ. o Caliornia, 1999) 132. 10
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culture—they did what Greeks did and abstained rom doing what Greeks abstained rom doing. Tey had schools, gymnasia, in which children o whatever place and pedigree were turned into “Greeks” by education and training. O course, we need not exaggerate here, neither regarding the Greeks’ motives (they came to the East to seek ame and ortune, not with a cultural mission), nor with regard to the rate o the process o Hellenization o the East; as arn summed up both sides o the matter, “Te Greeks came to Egypt to grow rich; so ar as they could they transported to Egypt their own lie, and or a century did not mix reely with the Egyptians”.12 Nevertheless, the Greek culture was one that allowed others to become Greeks, and that happened. And the Greeks were successul and respectable—and so it became reasonable and even attractive or Jews to think o themselves in similar terms: i the Greeks are Greeks not because o Greece or Greek blood but because they adhere to “Hellenism”, we must be Jews because we adhere to “Judaism”. Tis, in turn, created a need to de�ne “Judaism” in a way that never previously existed—and that explains how it could happen that Jewish sects appeared in the Hellenistic period.13 Which is, o course, the period and the context in which we should look or the Jewish roots o Christianity. urning �rst to the Hellenistic diaspora, where Paul was born and raised,14 we �nd, �rst o all, that by its nature it undercut, or Jews, the importance o a Jewish place. Jews who lived abroad could not subscribe, easily, to the notion that there was any place in the Jewish world that was holier than other places, because to do so would make them second-class Jews, and no one wants to be that. So although W. W. arn (with G. . Griffith), Hellenistic Civilisation (London: Arnold, 19523) 201. 13 Josephus mentions Jewish sects or the �rst time in the context o the middle o the second century B.C.E.— Antiquities 13.171–173. O course, there are various reasons that explain why it happened that Jewish sects appeared then. Especially we must remember that they appeared during that exceptional sub-period o the Second emple period during which the Jews had a sovereign state. See A. I. Baumgarten, Te Flourishing of Jewish Sects in the Maccabean Period: An Interpretation (Supplements to the Journal or the Study o Judaism 55; Leiden: Brill, 1997). My point here is that whatever reasons called or their appearance, they could not have appeared as long as “being Jewish” was conceived o as something de�ned not by one’s decisions, but by such physical givens as location and pedigree. 14 C. above, n. 3. For my understanding o Paul, see see “Paulus aus jüdischer Sicht,” in: Paulus der Jude: Seine Stellung im christlich-jüdischen Dialog heute (ed. Sung-Hee Lee-Linke; Frankurth am Main, 2005) 115–125. 12
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the Bible very requently calls the emple o Jerusalem “the house o God”, diasporan Jewish texts requently reer to God as “the God o Heaven”.15 Similarly, diasporan Jewish texts requently underline the importance o prayer , which was available to them, rather than sacri�ce—which was not, since it was limited to the emple o Jerusalem. o cite just a ew examples, that re�ect the type o culture with which Paul grew up, I can note that an Alexandrian Jewish work o the �rst century B.C.E. that survived in the Apocrypha, the Wisdom o Solomon (18:20–25), claims that Aaron prayed to save Jews who were in danger o dying, whereas the biblical account o that event (Numbers 16:41–50) has him sacri�cing incense. Similarly, 3 Maccabees has the book’s two turning points both revolve around prayers by priests (Chs. 2 and 6), although one o them was the high priest in Jerusalem and could also have sacri�ced, just as Philo, an Alexandrian Jewish philosopher o the �rst century C.E., Paul’s older contemporary, generally speaks o the emple priesthood as “praying and sacri�cing” although only the latter was particularly characteristic o the emple.16 Similarly, in connection with the reerence in Psalm 46:4 to “the city o God” Philo explains that the true emple is in the heart o the sage, or in the whole world—and that since the Holy City is called “Jerusalem”, which he interprets to mean “he who sees peace” ( yireh shalom ), any person whose soul is at peace can be characterized as a holy city.17 So when we �nd Paul, in his epistles, saying that Christians are citizens o heaven (Philippians 3:20), in the “Jerusalem which is above” (Galatians 4:26), thus leaving the earthly Jerusalem behind and making the emple available as a metaphor or the Christian community (1 Corinthians 3:16; 2 Corinthians 6:16), or or the individual Christian 15
On this epithet as “characteristic o the Seocnd Commonwealth” see A Roé, “An Enquiry into the Betrothal o Rebekah”, in: Die Hebräische Bibel und ihre zwei fache Nachgeschichte: Festschrift für Rolf Rendtorf zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. E. Blum, C. Macholz and E. W. Stegemann; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1990) 28 (with much evidence rom the Bible, Elephantine papyri, apocrypha and Dead Sea Scrolls). It is particularly the Diaspora’s existence, in this period, that engendered the usage. See D. R. Schwartz, 2 Maccabees (Commentaries on Early Jewish Literature; Berlin: De Gruyter, 2008) 47. 16 See D. R. Schwartz, “Philo’s Priestly Descent”, in: Nourished with Peace: Studies in Hellenistic Judaism in Memory of Samuel Sandmel (edd. F. E. Greenspahn, E. Hilgert and B. L. Mack; Chico, Caliornia: Scholars, 1984) 162. 17 Philo, On Dreams 2.248–251 (in H. Lewy, Philo: Philosophical Writings [Oxord: East and West Library, 1946] 81–82). See, in general: V. Nikiprowetzky, “La spiritualisation des sacri�ces et le culte sacri�cial au temple de Jérusalem chez Philon d’Alexandrie”, in his: Études philoniennes (Paris: Cer, 1996) 79–96.
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(1 Corinthians 6:19), which entails calling upon them to make their whole bodies into “living sacri�ces” (Romans 12:1), we may understand that he is reproducing the type o thing he probably heard in the Hellenistic Jewish community o his youth. 18 rue, given his Christian belie and polemical situation he may have been, or become, more extreme and consistent about this than others. But the main elements were already in place. I Jewish lie in any diaspora undermines the importance o a Jewish place, Jewish lie speci�cally in the Hellenistic diaspora also undermined the importance o Jewish pedigree. For the Hellenistic world was a universalist world; anyone could become a Greek by obtaining the proper education. In such a world, Jews would be hard put to go on viewing themselves as a closed zera ha-yehudim, and they didn’t: we �nd, in the Hellenistic and especially in the early Roman period, the period in which Christianity appeared, abundant evidence o Jewish proselytism,19 as Philo proudly notes,20 just as we also �nd some o Jewish apostasy (3 Maccabees 1:3; 2:31; 7:10–15; Josephus, Antiquities 20.100).21 Tat is, Jews and others must have been increasingly aware that Jewish birth was neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition or “being Jewish”—and many Jews were proud about such universalism, and adamant about it. Tus, or example, the author o 2 Maccabees—a Hellenistic Jewish work o the second century B.C.E., probably written in Alexandria—underlines his claim that many nonJews, including Greeks, were upset when a Jewish high priest was murdered; afer all, he was “a man”, and his death outraged all good people (4:35–36; so too ibid., 4:49);22 something similar appears, in a similar diasporan context, in 3 Maccabees 3:8–10. Similarly, to revert to the passage o the Wisdom o Solomon cited above, it characterizes Aaron, whose prayers saved the Jews, not as a priest but as “a righteous man” (18:21). And so on. When Paul pounds his hand on the table about
18
Or in the Hellenistic Jewish circles in which he moved in Jerusalem—as Jerusalem—as we may assume given his background. C. Acts 6:9 or the way Jews o the Hellenistic diaspora had their own circles in Jerusalem. 19 On Gentiles becoming Jews in antiquity, to various extents, see Cohen (above, n. 11) 140–174; also Stern (above, n. 5) 2.103–106. 20 Life of Moses 2.17–24 (Lewy [above, n. 17] 103–104). 21 See S. Etienne, “Ré�exion sur l’apostasie de ibérius Julius Alexander”, Studia 12 (2000) 122–42. Philonica Annual 12 22 Compare Acts 10:1, where the opening introduction o Cornelius as “a man” guarantees that, in the end, he will be accepted into the Christian community.
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all believers being “sons o Abraham” (Galatians 3:6–9), and insists that there is no distinction to be made between Jews and Greeks or all are one (Galatians 3:28; Colossians 3:11), he is totally in line with this same approach. So much or place and pedigree; the context and circumstances o Jewish lie in the Hellenistic world were such as to undermine their signi�cance greatly, and Paul may well be understood as a consistent expression o that tradition. Tat leaves us with the law, the orah. What was its status in the Hellenistic diaspora? Here matters are more complex, but nevertheless it seems clear that a ew actors served to undermine its importance. I’ll mention three such actors. Te social factor . Observing Jewish law in a mixed environment is something that can be quite difficult—dietary restrictions, separate calendars, and other issues impose difficulties and also create barriers, which were at times accompanied by hostility. In the Epistle to the Ephesians (2:14), or example, one o Paul’s disciples speaks o a “wall o hostility” that used to divide Jews rom Gentiles, and similar phrasings in Letter to Aristeas 139 (“walls o iron”) 23 and 3 Maccabees 3:4 show that such language, and eeling, were not rare. 24 Cultural relativism. Jews typically deended their laws, in the Hellenistic world, by presenting them as the law-code o a venerated ancient legislator, Moses, and/or as the ancestral laws ( patrioi nomoi) o the Jews.25 Tat way the Jews were able to compare their own practices to those o other peoples; just as the Cretans ollowed the laws o Minos, and the Spartans—those o Lycurgus, and they all had their ancestral practices which were legitimated by their antiquity, the Jews ollowed those o Moses and their own ancestors. In this connection, accordingly, 23
See R. Feldmeier, “Weise hinter ‘eisernen Mauern’: ora und jüdisches Selbst verständnis zwischen Akkulturation und Absonderung im Aristeasbrie ”, in: Die Septuaginta zwischen Judentum und Christentum (Wissenschatliche Untersuchungen zumNeuen estament 72, ed. M. Hengel and A.M. Schwemer; übingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1994) 20–37. 24 For some Roman expressions o this, see Philo, Embassy to Gaius 361 (Gaius throws at the Jews the hostile question, “Why do you not eat pork?”) and acitus, Histories 5..4.1 (“Te Jews regard as proane all that we hold sacred; on the other hand, they permit all that we abhor”). 25 For the assumption, in this connection, that old is good and older is better, see: P. Pilhoer, Presbyteron Kreitton: Der Altersbeweis der jüdischen und christlichen Apologeten und seine Vorgeschichte (Wissenschatliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen estament 2/39; übingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1990). See also B. Schröder, Die ‘väterli-
chen Gesetze’: Flavius Josephus als Vermittler von Halachah an Griechen und Römer (exte und Studien zum antiken Judentum 53; übingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1996).
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Jews also wrote much literature singing the praises o Moses as a wise leader and legislator. However, in doing this they employed something that turned into a boomerang, because this argument, which is meant to deend the respectability o Jewish law, amounts to saying that Jewish law is just as respectable as other law codes—and doesn’t really give an explanation why one should adhere to this one rather to one more popular, ollowed by his non-Jewish neighbors too, and thus avoid the social difficulties adhering to particularism. And the same may be said o the third actor: Spiritualization. Given the Greek tendency to seek the essence o things, Greeks, as opposed to Hebrews, were used to speaking o the physis o things as opposed to their logos—their meaning, their essence. For the Greeks, among whom the Jews lived in the period we are discussing, i Jewish laws were to be respectable, they had to be meaningul—to have some meaningul essence. Tus, or example, i it is orbidden to eat a certain animal, that cannot be simply because the Bible says it’s an unclean animal; rather, i this law is to be respectable the Bible must have a reason to orbid it, there must be something bad, something to be avoided, about the animal. Jews in the Hellenistic world were hard at work at this type o issue, �nding reasons or the commandments (what later would be called taamei hamitzvot )— )— explaining what symbolic lessons this and that law taught. Tus, or example, an Alexandrian Jewish work o the second century B.C.E. (the Letter of Aristeas ) explains (in §§141–155) that Moses ordered that the Jews abstain rom eating birds o prey (so he characterizes the relevant prohibitions, although the Bible offers no such hint and only lists orbidden birds) so as to teach them not to live as predators upon their ellow men. Similarly, the same book argues, Moses’ requirement that we eat only animals that chew their cuds was meant to remind us that when we learn things we must go over them time and again. Philo does much more o this, sometimes quite impressively, sometimes less so.26 Tis is meant to deend the law. However, it does so by making the law into a pedagogue (as Paul was eventually to call it—Galatians 3:24), and as we all know, when children grow up they no longer need pedagogues. Tus, or example, while we might agree that pedagogically it is useul to tell children that we don’t eat hawks so as to teach
See H. A. Wolson, Philo: Foundations of Religious Philosophy in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, II (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ., 1948) 200–267. 26
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us not to live like them, I bet we all assume that, as adults, we could eat hawks every day and still not live as predators like them. So at best what we have here is a Jewish claim that Jewish laws are good ways o teaching universal values—thus creating the question why we should learn those values this way in particular, or, in any case, why we should go on practicing these values afer we know them. Moreover, it may be noted that Philo himsel compares, quite properly, the laws to the body and the laws’ meaning to the soul. 27 Te laws pertain to real things (such as the ood we eat and the purity o our bodies), but their meanings are spiritual. In a world that distinguishes between the two, and ascribes a higher value to the latter, it will have been difficult, even without social difficulties and cultural relativism, to maintain adherence to the ormer. It is this tension, between the exalted and worthy spirit and the lowly body, which lies at the bottom not only o Paul’s (or a disciple’s) condemnation o the physical objects o Jewish law as mere shadows o things to come, with no real substance (Colossians 2.16–17), but also o Paul’s own rustration and anguish in Romans 7, where he blames his body or his inability to do what his spirit wants and ul�ll the law, which too is, really, spiritual. All in all, while perhaps extreme it is perhaps not so surprising that Philo’s own nephew grew up to be among the most amous apostates o Jewish history, commander o itus’ army at the siege and destruction o Jerusalem. 28 o summarize: the world o the Hellenistic diaspora tended in various ways to undercut the importance o all three parameters o Jewish existence: place, pedigree, and law. Tis well prepared the way or Paul, who would build a religion that lef all three behind, ocusing instead upon aith alone. Q����� ��� J��� urning now rom the Hellenistic Diaspora to the Qumran community, it is important to see that despite all the differences between such large and cosmopolitan Hellenistic cities as Alexandria and arsus,
On the Migration of Abraham 89–93 (Lewy [above, n. 17] 40–41). On this passage, see D. M. Hay, “Putting Extremism in Context: Te Case o Philo, De Migratione 89–93”, Studia Philonica Annual 9 (1977) 126–142. 28 Josephus, War 6.237; 6.237; see above, n. 21. 27
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on the one hand, and a tiny and isolationist desert community, on the other, several actors served to bring about, in Qumran, developments very similar to those we have observed, and underlined, in the world o Hellenistic Judaism. Te most obvious point pertains to the undercutting the importance o place: Qumran too was a place p lace o exile. Tose who lived there did not participate in the cult o the emple in Jerusalem; they called themselves “the exiled o the desert” ( golei —opening o War Scroll ; c. Damascus Document 4:2–3) hamidbar —opening and awaited an eschatological return to Jerusalem. In the meantime, moreover, they considered their own community as a site o holiness, and—as Paul—they used emple imagery to describe it: the sect was “an eternal plantation29—a holy house or Israel and a holy o holy oundation or Aaron” ( Manual of Discipline of Discipline 8:5–6); “a holy house or Aaron . . . and a communal house or Israel who walk in perection” (ibid. 9:5–6). Tat is, using language that compared their community to the emple complex, which distinguished between the courts accessible to lay Israelites and those holier ones accessible to priests alone, the Qumran author expressed the belie that the divine presence was in the midst o his own community. God, he held, would rather be in the house composed o His true servants than in some particular place—especially i the latter, in Jerusalem, was (as they held) mismanaged.30 Again, the circumstances o Qumran undermined the importance o Jewish pedigree, or—as is shown especially by the last columns o Pesher Habakkuk—they considered the worst people in the world to be the “wicked priests” in Jerusalem. But since those priests had the same Aaronite descent as the good priests o Qumran, the clear implication was that descent doesn’t mean much. I both good people and bad people can be o the same descent, it is obvious that pedigree is indeed no more important than the color o one’s hair. Tis explains why we �nd, at Qumran, a new way o de�ning people: alongside o (and perhaps or some: instead o) categorization into priests, Levites, Jews and
29
Tat is, �rmly enrooted—used in connection with the emple in Exodus 15:17 and 2 Samuel 7:10. 30 See B. E. Gärtner, Te emple and the Community in Qumran and the New estament (Society or New estament Studies Monograph Series 1; Cambridge: Cambridge Univ., 1965); G. Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde (Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen estaments 7; Göttingen: und im Neuen estament (Studien Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1971).
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non-Jews, categories which are based upon differential descent, 31 we read quite prominently o Sons o Light and Sons o Darkness—a metaphorical way o talking simply about good people and bad people. And as the central Qumran discussion o this makes clear (in the treatise in the Manual of Discipline , cols. 3–4), “all o mankind” ( kol b’nei ish ) are divided up the same way, between Sons o Light and Sons o Darkness, so being a Jew doesn’t really matter much. 32 As or the third parameter, Jewish law, here too Qumran led—i by different routes—to conclusions similar to those we saw in the world o Hellenistic Judaism, and o Paul. rue, Qumran demanded very strict and ull adherence to the Jewish law—what the scrolls requently term temim derekh—“perection o way”. However, as we all know, those who insist the most on ull observance o the law are ofen the ones most conscious o their own sinulness—o their own inability ully to observe the law. I you ask a hundred monks and a hundred other men on the streets o Paris whether they consider themselves sinul, probably more o the monks will answer in the affirmative than the usual men on the street will—or the ormer are usually more exacting, the latter more prone to orgive themselves. Te men o Qumran were monks—they lived celibate lives in a harsh climate and under very strict discipline, and one text afer another reveals their unorgiving awareness o their own sinulness. Tis can easily lead to (or stem rom) and despair, a dualistic attitude that condemns one’s �esh that is contrary to one’s spirit—and the result will be, just as or Paul in Romans 7, a yearning to be released rom the struggle caused by the demands imposed by the Law upon a body that cannot ul�ll it—certainly not “perectly”. Any sectarians who did not seek release via suicide could resolve this problem only by leaving the sect or by yearning or the eventual abrogation o the Law.33 As stated at the outset, just as Paul can be traced to the Hellenistic Diaspora, John the Baptist can be traced to Qumran. We don’t
31
Tese castes are seen clearly, or example, unctioning just as we would expect them in a priestly community, in Damascus Document 14:3–6. 14:3–6. 32 For the way this point o view was re�ected in eschatological eschatological views, that ocused upon such universal �gures as Melchizedek and the “Son o Man”, see D. Flusser, (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1988) 186–192. Judaism and the Origins of Christianity (Jerusalem: 33 Te latter seems seems to be indicated by Manual of Discipline 9:9–11, which requires sectarians to persevere in the observance o the “�rst ordinances which the members o the community were taught” until “the coming o the prophet and the messiahs o Aaron and Israel”.
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know i he was there, or i his riends or neighbors were and told him all about it; one way or another, numerous points make it clear that Qumran is the background against which John is to be understood. o point to some o the basic points o this, we may note that John too was active in the Judaean Desert, preached an intense apocalyptic message o an imminent end and called or repentance beore it was too late, preached the relative unimportance o Jewish descent (saying that it’s no big deal to be a “son o Abraham” because God can make even stones into sons [Matthew 3:9//Luke 3:8]—apparently punning with the Hebrew avanim and banim), demanding the sharing o property (as was practiced in Qumran) and, o course, immersion in water, baptism—which was very prominent at Qumran as well. And there are other points as well (see n. 1). Tus, in contrast to scholars o the pre-Qumran era, who were very hard put to suggest any historical context or John the Baptist, i today we ask what produced the person who was, according to the Gospels, the teacher and �rst model o Jesus o Nazareth, the answer is clearly the Jewish community south o the Dead Sea, whose scrolls were ound beginning in 1947, or some other very similar context. Since, as we have seen, this sect drew conclusions similar to Paul’s about the insigni�cance o Jewish place and Jewish descent, tending to spiritualize and universalize them, and since as Paul it also tended to view the law as a problem, we can well understand that John, whether a Qumran graduate or a Qumran dropout or merely one it in�uenced directly, would preach similar messages. And he was the teacher o Jesus o Nazareth. G������ ��� J���� As or Jesus himsel, it seems that his Jewish background was again a different one. Not the Hellenistic Diaspora, and not Qumran, but rather the Galilee and Jerusalem are the places we �nd him, and the problems which seem to have exercised him, and eventually to have gotten him into prominence but also into trouble, and thus brought about his arrest and execution, were o another type altogether. Jesus preached the coming kingdom o God, which or Jews meant the coming restoration o the kingdom o David; his message was a messianic message, and messianism was something that was, primarily, political: the mashiah ̣ ̣ is an anointed king o the Davidic line, and who-
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ever preached its restoration was preaching the restoration o Jewish sovereignty—which entailed, o course, the end o Roman rule. At this point, accordingly, we must say something, i ever so brie, about Jewish political notions in the Second emple period. Te important point is that the Bible typically calls the emple “the House o God”, and while above we saw that Jews in the Hellenistic Diaspora and in Qumran tended not to take that seriously, preerring God to dwell in heaven, or in their own midst wherever they were, the act is that the emple still existed and many Jews did take it seriously as the House o God. However, since the God o the Bible was also the true king o Israel (and �esh and blood kings were at best His agents), it ollowed that the emple o Jerusalem was considered to be a royal palace, and so Jerusalem was the capital city o a Jewish state— all o which means, that the emple was the axis o a political theory that created a Jewish state that competed with Roman rule in Judaea. Jews who subscribed to this political theory—and there were many o them—could not accept Roman rule in Provincia Judaea without betraying God’s rule o His holy Land, because they both were in the very same territory.34 rue, the Romans (as already their vassal, Herod) tried to deuse this con�ict by respecting the emple and by creating an additional capital o the province, in Caesarea, so as to allow the Jews their religious capital ar away rom the political and administrative capital o Roman rule. However, many Jews, including numerous Galileans,35 were not willing to limit God’s claims to the religious sphere, rendering also unto Caesar alongside o Him; they wanted Him ully to be king, and the land to be His—just as the Bible says. Tis inevitably led to con�icts between the Jews and the Romans, and afer many smaller con�icts �nally the Great Rebellion o 66–73 C.E. settled
34
Note, in this connection, that Herod’s massive expansion and renovation o the emple and o Jerusalem, just a ew decades beore Jesus’ career, served, paradoxically, to make the contradiction between them, on the one hand, and Roman rule, on the other, all the more salient. See my “One emple and Many Synagogues”, in: Herod and Augustus (IJS Studies in Judaica 6, ed. D. M. Jacobson and N. Kokkinos; Leiden: Brill, 2009) 358–398. 35 One notes, or example, “Judas the Galilean” and his clan, “the Galileans” o Luke 13:1, whose blood Pilate “mixed with the sacri�ces”, and “the Galileans” who appear throughout Josephus’ Life as his steadast supporters during his tenure as rebel governor o the Galilee. See, in general: F. Lofus, “Te Anti-Roman Revolts o the Jews and the Galileans”, Jewish Quarterly Review 68 (1977/78) 78–98.
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the problem once and or all by bringing about the destruction o the emple. From then on only one king ruled in Judaea—the Roman emperor via his branch office in Caesarea. Henceorth it was the enth Legion, not the God o Israel, who resided in Jerusalem. Where did Jesus stand on these issues? It is hard to say, o course, because there is much contradictory evidence in the Gospels. 36 On the one hand, he is portrayed as a paci�c and cheek-turning preacher and healer, hardly the type o person who could threaten Rome. On the other hand, he did preach the coming kingdom o God, i.e., o Israel, and so many o his believers thought he was the coming king that he came to the attention o Pontius Pilate who thereore did to him what any Roman governor had to do—writing upon his cross that he was King o the Jews. However incomplete that characterization o Jesus’ message was, there is no reason to imagine that it was not correct. Tat is, there is good reason to think that whatever moral preaching also characterized Jesus, his messianic message, like that o various other Galilean leaders in the �rst century, was one with the usual political implications mandated by the Hebrew Bible, and that is what his ollowers understood just as it is what Pilate understood. I that’s the case, then one might have expected Jesus’ movement to disintegrate with his death. Te scene on the way to Emmaus according to Luke 24:13–27, in which his disappointed ollowers say they had thought he would bring redemption to Israel but his cruci�xion had dashed their hopes, makes perect sense.37 What made the difference or Jesus’ ollowers was their belie that they met him alive afer he had been executed. Te belie in resurrection is the very basis o Christian belie, and it makes all the difference. It guaranteed that their movement would last beyond his death; indeed, it gave a major orientation to the message o Christianity, because basically what it preaches is that by joining Jesus one can, like him, deeat death and obtain eternal lie—but not in this world, not as a subject o Rome. I Jesus’ earliest ollowers �rst understood the resurrection messianically, expecting it On “Jesus and the Zealots” in modern scholarship, see D. R. Schwartz, Studies in (Wissenschafliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen the Jewish Background of Christianity (Wissenschafliche estament 60; übingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1992) 128–146. 37 For the naturalness with which the death o the leader entails the dissolution o the movement, see Acts 5:37: “he [Judas the Galilean, an anti-Roman rebel] also perished, and all who ollowed him were scattered”. For �rst-century rebellious movements that disappeared upon Roman police action, see also Josephus, Antiquities 20.98, 171–172. 36
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would herald the restoration o Israelite monarchy in the Holy Land (Acts 1:8),38 soon they would �nd the way to sublimate that hoped-or salvation into something individual and other-worldly. J���, J����, P��� Indeed, on the super�cial level, there is not much that links Jesus’ political message—a promise o the coming restoration o the kingdom o Israel—to those o John and Paul, those o the Hellenistic Diaspora and Qumran. Teir messages, preached in exile, dealt with the problems and hopes o Jewish individuals. In act, as we have seen, they tended to ocus upon human individuals in general, universally, whereas Jesus’ message was preached in the heartland and capital o Judaea and dealt with the problems and hopes o the Jewish nation. On that level, thereore, while we can easily understand how ollowers o John and Pauline types could turn into a single movement, 39 or such a movement to adopt belie in Jesus would seem to be a radical rewriting o his message. On a more basic level, however, it is not surprising that Jesus’ ollowers ended up orming a movement that uni�ed them with ollowers o John and Paul. For although resurrection implied the body’s return to lie, what was essential about the resurrection o Jesus was that it showed, more generally, that one can live afer death. But or many Jews, lie afer death was understood, under Hellenistic in�uence, not as resurrection (o body and soul) but, rather, as the release o the soul rom the body—the body could stay in the grave, while the soul was reed. Tat is, achievement o lie afer death meant, or many or most Jews, proo that the soul is separate rom the body—but this separation o body rom soul also lies at the basis o everything we have seen about Hellenistic Judaism and Qumran Judaism, namely, about Paul and John. Tis is quite simple. o say that sanctity is not limited
See my “Te End o the gê (Acts 1:8): Beginning or End o the Christian Vision?”, Journal of Biblical Literature 105 (1986) 669–676. 39 Although it probably was a longer and last irenic process than the easy cooptation portrayed in Acts 19:1–7. For the suggestion that “the thin thread o the community ollowing John” managed to maintain its separate identity until the third century, see K. Rudolph, “Te Baptist Sects,” in: Te Cambridge History of Judaism, III (ed. W. Horbury, W. D. Davies, and J. Sturdy; Cambridge: Cambridge Univ., 1999) 481. 38
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to any speci�c place or pedigree is to say that it is not the physis o things that matter, but, rather, their logos—but i sanctity can be ound anyplace, and in any person no matter what seed created him or her, then it ollows that it is not part o the body, but only ound within it. And as or the law, or both Paul and Qumran it was their bodies that rustrated their souls’ desire to observe the law,40 so the notion that their soul could be reed rom their bodies, as Jesus’ deeat o death showed, was quite welcome. *
*
*
o summarize: Christianity arose due to the belie o Jesus o Nazareth’s ollowers that they met him alive afer he was dead. Tat belie, whatever explains it, is an historical act. But having said that, what is important or historians is that although that belie arose in a world in which many Jews in Palestine were occupied by the political and theological problems associated with Roman rule in God’s kingdom, many other Jews, especially visible to us today in the literature o Qumran on the one hand and the Hellenistic diaspora on the other, were used to universalizing and spiritualizing away the values o Land and People. Rather, they were more concerned with the problems o the individual Jews vis–à–vis Jewish law, or the worlds and circumstances in which they lived placed question marks o various types alongside that law and its observance. In particular, we noted that some o these issues amounted to the problematic o the distinction between body and soul—something quite understandable in the Hellenistic world. When the hopes associated with Jesus by his �rst ollowers, that he would solve the political and theological problems associated with Roman rule in God’s kingdom, turned out to ail, but nevertheless Jesus was believed to have overcome his own death as an individual, it was natural or Jews o the Qumran and Hellenistic type to adopt him as an indication that God had �nally intervened in history to point them to a new way—what they were to call a new covenant, which had, in “the ullness o time”, replaced the earlier one. For other Jews, who either did not believe that Jesus had been resurrected or shrugged their shoulders at it and reused to draw any such innovative conclusions, it remained to go on living our lives with the tensions:
For poignant expressions rom both, see, respectively, Romans 7:14–24 7:14–24 and Manual of Discipline 11:9–11. 40
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• between having God God all over but nevertheless nevertheless having something something special in Zion; • between being people people but nevertheless nevertheless being Jews; Jews; • and between having a perect perect law but only only imperect ability to to ul�ll it, torn as we are between our con�icting wills and drives. All o these are but aspects o our having both bodies and souls— something we Jews learned o especially rom the Greeks. What distinguishes us rom Christians is our reusal to sign onto the soul alone, which is, or example, why we don’t have monks or consider them ideal types, why we ascribe religious signi�cance to the type o oods that nourish our bodies, why we consider birth to de�ne Jews and our priests (kohanim) differentially, why we ascribe religious signi�cance to the Holy Land, and the like. One important element in that reusal is our reusal to believe, or to ascribe signi�cance to, the claim o some o our �rst-century ancestors that they met again their leader, alive in this world, afer he had been executed.
HE JEWISH�CHRISIANS’ MOVE FROM JERUSALEM AS A PRAGMAIC CHOICE Jonathan Bourgel According to the Church Fathers Eusebius and Epiphanius, the members o the Church o Jerusalem were commanded by an oracle to leave the Holy City beore its destruction in 70 C.E. and to take reuge in the city o Pella on the east bank o the Jordan River. Tis episode, which is known as the “Flight to Pella,” is considered to be a central issue in the historiography o Jewish-Christianity in the postapostolic period. R. Pritz has written in this connection: “any attempt to treat the post-New estament history o Jewish-Christianity must �rst decide on the historicity o the reported �ight o the Jerusalem Church to Pella.”1 Te ate o the Jewish-Christian community o Jerusalem during the First Jewish War has been a much debated question ever since 1951 when S. G. F. Brandon published his contentious work Te Fall o Jerusalem and the Christian Church, Church , where he opposed the dominant historiographic consensus about the historicity o the “�ight to Pella”. He maintained, indeed, that the Jewish-Christian congregation remained in Jerusalem throughout the war and vanished (together with the Zealots) during the destruction o the city. 2 Te objections lodged by Brandon appear to have had sufficient validity to orce a reconsideration o the reliability o the Pella tradition and to enable a revision o the traditional view o Jewish-Christianity. Moreover his work has provided a basis or urther discussion o this issue. In the afermath o this survey, other scholars have come to the conclusion that this tradition had to be discounted as unhistorical. 3
1
R. Pritz, “On Brandon’ s Rejection o the Pella radition,” Immanuel 13 13 (1981), 39–43, (39). 2 S. G. F. Brandon, Te Fall o Jerusalem and the Christian Church, (1951; 2nd ed.; London: SPCK, 1957) 167–184. 3 G. Strecker, Das Judenchristentum in den Pseudo-Klementinen, (1958; 2nd ed. rev; Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1981) 229–231; J. Munck, “Jewish-Christianity in PostApostolic imes,” New estament Studies 6 (1959–60), 103–104; L. Gaston, No stone on Another: Studies in the Signi�cance o the Fall o Jerusalem in the Synoptic Gospels , (Leiden: E. J. Brill 1970), 142 n. 3; G. Lüdemann, “Te Successors o pre-70 Jerusalem Christianity: A Critical Evaluation o the Pella-radition,” in Jewish and Christian
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Te reutation o the trustworthiness o the account o the “�ight to Pella” is based either on the apparent historical inconsistencies it contains or the obscure origins o its sources. In response to this, several scholars have attempted to respond to the arguments raised against the authenticity o the tradition o the �ight to Pella. 4 Te current discussion o this issue, however, has to avoid a twoold pitall. Te �rst o these is the tendency to accept the tradition as it has been handed down to us in order to preserve the traditional view o early Christianity, or such a stance usually derives rom motives other than historical accuracy.5 In contradistinction, one must avoid the reutation o the “�ight to Pella” outright simply on the grounds that it served the apologetic interests o subsequent Christian writers.6 However, in our opinion the signi�cance and the implications o this occurrence (whether one admits its authenticity or not) may need to be considered and quali�ed still urther. Unlike Brandon and his ollowers, we do admit that the Christian Community o Jerusalem (or at least a part o it) lef the Holy City in the course o the Great Revolt. However, in light o Josephus’ accounts, we suggest that the so-called “�ight to Pella” was the consequence o the Jewish-Christians’ surrender to the Roman authorities, who subsequently settled this odd group in a pagan city ar rom the battle�eld. Our thesis, which concurs with the proposition advanced by R. Pritz and F. Blanchetière, 7 intends not only to reconstruct the course o events o the Jewish-Christians’ move to Pella but also to set this event strictly within the political context o
Sel-De�nition, (edited by E. P. Sanders. Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press 1980), vol. 1 161–173; J. Verheyden, “Te Flight o the Christians to Pella,” Ephemerides Teologicae Lovanienses, vol. 66 Issue 4 (1990), 368–384. 4 S. Sowers, “Te Circumstances and Recollection o the Pella Flight,” Teologische 26 (1970), 305–320; M. Simon, “La Migration à Pella; Légende ou Réalité?” Zeitschrif 26 in Judéo-christianisme-Recherches historiques et théologiques offerts au Cardinal Jean Daniélou, Recherches de science religieuse, (Paris, 1972), 37–54; B. C. Gray, “Te Movements o the Jerusalem Church During the First Jewish War,” Journal o Ecclesiastical 24 (1973), 1–7; J. J. Gunther, “Te Fate o the Jerusalem Church, Te Flight History 24 to Pella,” Teologische zeitschrif 29 (1973), 81–94; R. Pritz, “On Brandon’s Rejection,” 39–43; C. Koester, “Te Origin and Signi�cance o the Flight to Pella radition,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 51 51 (1989), 90–106; F. Blanchetière and R. Pritz, “La migration des ‘Nazaréens’ à Pella,” in F. Blanchetière Blanchetière and M. D. Herr (ed.), Aux origines juives du Christianisme, (Cahiers du Centre de recherche rançais de Jérusalem vol. 2; Paris-Louvain: Peeters, 1993). Peeters, 1993). 5 P. H. R. van Houwelingen, “Fleeing orward: the departure o Christians rom Jerusalem to Pella,” Te West minster Teological Journal 65/2 (2003), 181–200. 6 J. Verheyden, Verheyden, “Flight.” 7 F. Blanchetière and R. Pritz, “Migration.”
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Jerusalem in the late spring 68 C.E. Furthermore, it aims at assessing the real implication this occurrence had on later Jewish-Christianity. �� S������ Te denial o the historicity o the �ight to Pella is broadly based on the study o the literary sources which reer to this story, since the explicit reerences to this tradition are both sparse and relatively late. Te proponents o the historicity o the Pella tradition assume that earlier pieces o evidence attest the authenticity o the Christians’ �ight rom Jerusalem. Tere has, however, been sharp disagreement about the reliability o these alleged implicit witnesses. We shall thereore begin by reviewing both the explicit statement and the implicit reerences used as evidence or the Pella tradition. Te earliest account directly related to the migration to Pella occurs in the third book o Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History Ecclesiastical History (III, 5, 2–3), which dates back to the �rst third o the ourth century (c. 324 C.E.). 8 Te story o the �ight to Pella appears in Eusebius’ work afer a statement related to the martyrdoms o several apostles (Stephen and the two James). Citing the Jewish persecutions o the �rst Jewish-Christian community enables the author to create a cause-and-effect relationship between these events and the outbreak o the Jewish War. According to Eusebius’ understanding o history, he presents the ruin o the Jewish nation as the expression o Divine wrath against this wicked people. He adds, however, that the Church o Jerusalem was previously warned by an “oracle” to leave the Holy City “beore the war” and to settle in the city o Pella. Tus, in his view, the �ight o the Jewish-Christians was a pre-condition or carrying out the Divine punishment; so that the war broke out only afer “those who believed in Christ . . . removed rom Jerusalem, as i holy men had entirely abandoned the royal city itsel, and the whole land o Judaea.” Eusebius did not speciy the source o this inormation, so that the issue o the origin o this account remains a moot question. It has been argued, thereore, that Hegesippus (c. 110–c. 180 C.E.) was his source since Eusebius drew rom the latter’s work, the Hypomnemata, Hypomnemata, an extensive data-set related to the early Palestinian
8
Tis account is to be ound in Appendix I.
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Church.9 However Brandon, G. Strecker and others have cast doubt on the likelihood o this suggestion. Strecker, or instance, claimed that this tradition was unknown to Hegesippus, or Eusebius, who usually cites Hegesippus by name when quoting his statements, does not mention him in his account o the migration to Pella. In Strecker’s view, since Hegesippus lived in Palestine in the �rst hal o the second century C.E., it is most unlikely that he should not have known o such an event, i it really occurred. Strecker then adds that Eusebius relates this tradition only on one occasion, which highlights the thinness o this data. M. Simon has already shown the inconsistency o this thesis, silentio.10 Furthermore, O. which is mainly grounded on arguments ex silentio. Irshai has rightly remarked r emarked that, even i Hegesippus did know the Pella tradition, he would certainly have chosen to ignore it. Indeed, since he was involved in the struggle against the “emerging heresies”, Hegesippus sought to prove the continuity o the “genuine” Christian doctrine in the apostolic churches; thus, a tale reporting a break in the history o the Church would undoubtedly have embarrassed him.11 It has also been proposed that Eusebius must have derived his inormation rom the writings o Aristo o Pella (mid-second century C.E.).12 G. Lüdemann, or instance, argues that this tradition originated at Pella within a Jewish-Christian community which claimed a relationship with the apostles, and thus considers Aristo to be the most likely source or Eusebius. Tis suggestion is based on the act that Eusebius’ report o the Bar Kokhba revolt is based on Aristo’s writings (HE (HE IV, IV, 6, 3); it was thereore assumed that the latter’s work included an account o the First Jewish War. However, this suggestion appears to be based mainly on Aristo’s presumed origin. In any case,
9
H. J. Lawlor, Eusebiana, (Oxord: Oxord University, 1912), 30–31; R. W. Funk and H. N. Richardson, “Te Sounding at Pella,” Te Biblical Archaelogist , Vol. XXI, no 4 (Dec. 1958), 82–98 (86); B. C. Gray, “Movements,” 2; J. A. . Robinson, Redating the New estament , (London: SCM Press, 1976), 17. 10 M. Simon, “Migration,” 37–43. 37–43. 11 O. Irshai, “From the Church o the Circumcised to the Church o the Gentiles: Te History o the Jerusalem Church up until the Fourth Century,” in Y. sarir & S. Sarai (ed.), Te History o Jerusalem: Te Roman and Byzantine Periods (70–638 C.E.), Jerusalem: Yad Izhak Ben Zvi, 1999), 61–114, (74–77), (Hebrew). 12 A. Schlatter, Synagoge und Kirche bis zum Barkochba-Austand. Vier studien zur Geschichte des Rabbinats und der jüdischen Christenheit in den ersten zwei Jahrhunderten, (Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1966), 154; G. Lüdemann, “Successors,” 166; C. Koester, “Origin and Signiicance,” 92.
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these considerations are not decisive and are not enough to settle that Aristo was the source o Eusebius. Other scholars have proposed that Eusebius owed his inormation to Julius Aricanus (early third century C.E.).13 An original proposition has been put orward by J. Verheyden, who suggested that Eusebius contrived the Pella tradition or the needs o his apologetic presentation o the Jewish War: he was thereby able to demonstrate that the aithul Christians were saved rom God’s punishment.14 Tis assertion is grounded on two acts: we do not know o any direct reerence to a �ight to Pella prior to Eusebius, and there are no indications that the latter was dependent upon a source. However Verheyden is unable to provide any convincing motives or Eusebius’ choice o Pella as a destination. Furthermore, even though Eusebius’ writings are apologetic, this does not necessarily imply that he invented them. Te most that can be said in this connection is that it is difficult to determine the source whence Eusebius derived his account o the �ight to Pella. Tis does not, however, mean that Eusebius’ data are to be dismissed out-o-hand. In this context, B. Isaac considers that Eusebius’ accounts are trustworthy, since he lived in Palestine and was thereore certainly acquainted with local traditions. 15 Tis assertion is strengthened by the act that Eusebius, according to his own testimony, patronized both the libraries o Aelia Capitolina and Caesarea (H.E., H.E., VI, 20, 1; 32, 3). In light o those considerations, we tend to uphold the reliability o Eusebius’ statement, even though we suspect him to have altered the chronology o the Jewish-Christians’ �ight or his own purposes; we shall discuss this point below. Subsequent explicit mentions o a �ight to Pella are to be ound in Epiphanius’ work. Epiphanius, who wrote in the second hal o the ourth century C.E., reers to the migration to Pella three times in all
13
A. Harnack suggests that Eusebius derived this this tradition either rom Hegesippus or rom Julius Aricanus; Die Mission und Ausbreitung des Christentums in den ersten drei Jahrhunderten, (1902; 2nd ed., Leipzig: Hinrich 1906), vol. 2, 78. 14 J. Verheyden, “Flight;” this thesis was accepted by R. M. Grant in his review published in the Journal o Journal o Teological Teological Studies Studies 41/2 (1990), 664–665 and by W. Kinzig, “ ‘Non-Separation’: Closeness and Cooperation between Jews and Christians in the Fourth Century,” Vigiliae Christianae Vol. 45/1 (1991), 27–53 (50 n. 59). 15 B. Isaac, “Jerusalem rom the Great Revolt to the Reign o Constantine, 70–312 C.E.,” in Y. sarir & S. Sarai (ed.), Te History o Jerusalem: Te Roman and Byzantine Periods (70–638 C.E.), (Jerusalem: Yad Izhak Ben Zvi, 1999), 1–13 (4), (Hebrew).
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in his writings.16 Both o the accounts which appear in the Panarion (XXIX, 7, 7–8; XXX, 2, 7 ) are related to the appearance o heterodox Jewish-Christian sects, the Nazoreans and the Ebionites, in Peraea, ollowing the relocation o the Church o Jerusalem to Pella. Te third mention o the �ight o the Jewish-Christians appears in his treatise On Weights and Measures Measures (xv), where Epiphanius reports Aquila’s encounter with that “the disciples o the disciples o the apostles” who had previously returned rom Pella to Jerusalem. Te main eatures o Eusebius’ data are present in Epiphanius’ writings: namely the miraculous warning (although Epiphanius attributes this both to “the Christ” and to an angel on different occasions), the escape rom Jerusalem and the settlement in Pella. It has been argued, thereore, that Epiphanius’ accounts are based on Eusebius.17 However, although both authors certainly used the same sources, we are inclined to believe that Epiphanius does not depend on Eusebius, or there are at least two important differences between their respective statements. First, the use o this tradition does not have the same purpose in both reports. As mentioned above, Eusebius integrates this data in a global vision o history in which the Jews are chastised by God on account o their impiety, while the Christians are miraculously saved rom the destruction. In contrast, Epiphanius’ records o the �ight to Pella are more neutral and o less importance, or they occur incidentally and constitute digressions within unconnected accounts. Secondly, it is noteworthy that Epiphanius, in each o his statements, dates the �ight to Pella to shortly beore the siege o Jerusalem, whereas Eusebius claims that it occurred “beore the war”. In general, it is quite difficult to evaluate the reliability o Epiphanius’ writings, or his work remains conused and imprecise in many respects. In spite o these considerations, G. Alon concludes that Epiphanius’ writings cannot be disregarded “or they are a vast storehouse o reports and traditions”. 18 In act, since Epiphanius lived or many years in Eleutheropolis in Judaea, we may conclude that he would have been amiliar with local traditions. A urther indication o his reliability lies in the act that,
16
See Appendix II, III and IV. Tis opinion is shared by G. Strecker ( Judenchristentum, 229), M. Simon, (“Migration,” 38), G. Lüdemann, (“Successors,” 164), F. Blanchetière and R. Pritz, (“Migration des ‘Nazaréens’,” 97) and J. Verheyden, (“Flight,” 376–379). 18 G. Alon, Te Jews in their land in the almudic Age, translated by G. Levi (Magnes Press: Jerusalem, 1980; reprint. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989), 442. 17
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as pointed out above, Epiphanius recounts the �ight to Pella in passing; thus it would seem that he had no apologetic interest in relating this account and merely reported a tradition that he had previously received. Tere is sufficient reason in light o these considerations to regard the data conveyed by the bishop o Salamis as reliable. We shall now survey the writings which may implicitly reer to the �ight to Pella. In the �rst place we shall turn to the PseudoPseudo-Clementines. Clementines. Numerous scholars agree that these texts, which were composed in the ourth century C.E., are partly grounded on much older material that goes back to the second or the third century C.E. and which may have Pseudo-Clementine literature consists o the originated in Syria. Te Pseudo-Clementine Clementine Homilies, Homilies, which has come down to us in its original Greek version and the Clementine Recognitions. Recognitions . Unortunately, we only know the Latin translation o this work made by Ru�nus (c. 345–410 C.E.) and a partial Syriac rendition. Tese writings relate the peregrination o Clement o Rome, who ollows Barnabas to Judaea afer he has heard his preaching about the miracles o “Jesus Christ.” At Caesarea he meets with the apostle Peter and decides to accompany him on his way to Rome. In addition, the narrative describes how Clement reunites his scattered amily in the course o his journeys. 19 H. J. Schoeps was the �rst to propose that two passages o the Recognitions allude nitions allude to the escape o the Christians rom Jerusalem, although they do not explicitly mention Pella. 20 Chapter 37 reports a sermon o Peter, in which the apostle predicts the outbreak o a war and the impending destruction o the emple. Peter claims, however, that those who believe in Jesus as the true prophet and who have been baptized will be rescued; the Syriac version reads that the latter would be gathered to “a sae place o the land” (1, 37, 2). Later, we read in both versions that the aithul believers will be saved rom the war (1, 39, 3). 21 Although he denies the authenticity o the �ight to Pella, Strecker does consider that these writings reer to this tradition. In his view, the Jewish-Christians who lived in 19
For a review o the research research on the Pseudo-Clementine literature, see F. S. Jones, “Te Pseudo-Clementines: A History o Research,” Second Century 2 (1982), 1–33, 63–96 and F. Manns, “Les Pseudo-Clémentines (Homélies et Reconnaissances). Etat Annuus LIII (2003), 157–184. de la question,” Liber Annuus 20 H. J. Schoeps, Teologie und Geschichte des Judenchristentums, (übingen: J. C. B. Mohr-P. Siebeck, 1949), 47–48, 267. 21 Te ull accounts are to be ound in Appendix V, VI and VII.
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the area o Pella produced this document in order to claim that they were the genuine heirs o the “Mother Church;” thus “a sae place o the land” would have been understood by these communities as a reerence to Pella. 22 Lüdemann, who upholds a similar view, considers that the geographical origin o the writings rom which these passages stem strengthens the impression o a physical limitation o the Pella tradition to the areas east o the Jordan. C. Koester also maintains that these passages reveal clear similarities with the explicit reerences to the �ight to Pella, or they retain the main elements o the tradition (the escape o the righteous, their relocation and the destruction o Jerusalem). Moreover, Koester convincingly demonstrates the Recognitions over their Latin superiority o the Syriac version o the Recognitions translation: in his view the Syriac rendering best conveys the genuine Jewish-Christian character o these writings.23 He agrees thereore with Strecker that these passages once circulated among the Christian communities east o the Jordan. However Koester rejects the view that the Pella tradition was used to legitimate the claim o the local Jewish Christians to apostolicity. In spite o the wide consensus that the Recognitions reer to the Pella tradition, J. Verheyden considers this evidence to be unsatisactory. He argues that the mentions o “a sae place o the land” (Rec 1, 37, 2 Syriac) is too opaque to be identi�ed as Pella. Moreover, Verheyden emphasizes the act that in the Latin translation the “place” has an immaterial meaning and reers to “God’s wisdom.”24 In spite o these arguments, we are inclined to support the opposite position. It is clear that the statements recorded in the Recognitions present certain similarities with Eusebius’ account, or they emphasize the opposition between the believers who are spared rom the destruction, and the impious people who are chastised because o their sins. It is noteworthy, though, that the dichotomy present in the PseudoPseudoClementines separates Clementines separates the Jews who believe rom their brethren who do not believe (in the messianism o Jesus), whereas Eusebius’ statement
22
G. Strecker, Judenchristentum, 231; this view is also accepted by J. L. Martyn, “Clementine Recognitions 1, 33–71, Jewish-Christianity and the Fourth Gospel,” in God’s Christ and his People. Studies in Honor o Nils Alstrup Dahl , (ed. J. Jervell & W.A. Meeks; Oslo: Universitetsorlaget 1977), 265–295. 23 C. Koester, “Te Origin and Signi�cance o the Flight Flight to Pella radition”, 97–103. Tis position is shared by F. S. Jones, An Ancient Jewish-Christian Source on the History o Christianity: Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1. 27–71, (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995), 46. 24 Verheyden, “Flight,” 371–375.
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clearly opposes Jews and Christians. Likewise, it is remarkable that the translation made by Ru�nus reads that the devastation o the war threatens the “unbelieving nation” (i.e. the Jews), whereas the Syriac version merely mentions the impending destruction o “those who are not persuaded” (Rec. (Rec. 39, 3). In this respect it should be recalled that Ru�nus, according to his own testimony, emended some o the writings that he translated with the twoold aim o expounding the unclear passages and o making them �t the principles o the Latin Church.25 It is reasonable to think that the PseudoPseudo-Clementines represent Clementines represent an earlier stage o the tradition which links the �ight to Pella to the chastisement o the unbelievers. Tis interpretation would have �rst circulated within the Jewish-Christian groups, and was subsequently adapted and altered by Eusebius or the needs o his demonstration. We shall now consider the question o whether it is possible that certain passages o the New estament also reer to the Pella tradition. Several scholars who contest the historicity o the �ight to Pella insist on the act that the direct mentions o this tradition are relatively late. In this connection, both Strecker and Lüdemann claim that none o the writings o the New estament actually reer to the Pella tradition, although some o them were written shortly afer the all o Jerusalem and the supposed move o the Jewish-Christian community. Other scholars maintain that the Pella �ight may be alluded to in certain New estament passages. We shall thereore turn to those New estament texts which may re�ect knowledge o the ate o the Palestinian Christians during the First Jewish Revolt. Tere is reason to think indeed that several sayings ascribed to Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels reer to the ate o Jerusalem in the course o the First Jewish War: we �nd in the �rst instance Matthew XXIV, 15–20 and Luke XXI, 20–24, which both depend on Mark XIII, 14–18. Tis pericope belongs to Jesus’ prophecy concerning the apparition o the “desolating sacrilege set up where it ought not to be”. 26 Since it is widely admitted that Mark’s Gospel was composed prior to the destruction o the Second emple, many scholars believe that Mark XIII, 14 reers to an earlier event.27 Composed in the late �rst century, 25
C. Koester, “Origin and Signi�cance,” 103. All quotations rom the Bible are taken rom the New Revised Standard Version. 27 It has been argued that the eschatological discourse in Mark XIII is related to the “Caligula crisis,” which was provoked by the Emperor’s order to erect a statue o himsel in the Jerusalem emple (39–41 C.E.); see or instance N. H. aylor, “Palestinian 26
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Matthew’s and Luke’s accounts would then be a rewriting o Mark’s data in light o the new circumstances: that is to say, the destruction o Jerusalem and its emple. Although this speci�c issue has been extensively studied, we wish to make several comments here. Matthews’ main addition to Mark’s text concerns the place where the “desolating sacrilege” was to be seen, namely “ἐν τόπῳ ἁγίῳ”. Tis data, which is not ortuitous, must certainly reer to a speci�c event that occurred in the course o the war (we shall discuss this point later). It is, however, very conspicuous that the Gospel o Matthew, which was particularly popular among the Jewish-Christian communities o Syria-Palestine, does not deal explicitly with the ate o the congregation o Jerusalem (whether the �ight to Pella occurred or not). I we admit that the Jewish-Christians lef the Holy City in the course o the Great Revolt, it is possible to iner that the Jewish-Christian communities, who carried on living in a Jewish environment ollowing the War, did not wish to emphasize the �ight o the “Mother Church” rom Jerusalem, but this inerence must be quali�ed or many other Jews escaped rom Jerusalem during the Great Revolt.28 In any event, although the Gospel o Matthew may look back to speci�c events rom the Jewish War, it seems that analyzing it would add little to our knowledge o the �ight to Pella.29 It is noteworthy that the Gospel o Luke, which originates rom a heathen milieu, provides the most extensive depiction about the ate o Jerusalem. Although it contains two passages which reer to the orthcoming destruction o the city; viz. XIX, 42–44 and XXI, 20–24, we shall pay more attention to the latter account which seems more
Christianity and the Caligula Crisis. Part II. Te Markan Eschatological”, Journal or the Study o the New estament 62 (1996); Vol. 18, No. 62, 13–40 and G. Teissen, Te Gospels in context: Social and Political History in the Synoptic tradition , (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 125–165. However, ew scholars agree that Mark was written afer the destruction o the emple. In this connection, J. Marcus proposes that the warning in Mark XIII, 14 to �ee rom Judaea to the hills when the “desolating sacrilege” appears, may possibly allude to the �ight to Pella; “Te Jewish War and the Sitz im Leben o Mark”, Journal o Biblical Literature 111/3 (1992), 441–62 (461 n. 97). 28 In this respect A. ropper proposes that the Pella tradition was portrayed some time afer o the �ight itsel because o the disproval it met; “Yohanan ben Zakkai, Amicus Caesaris: A Jewish Hero in Rabbinic Eyes,” JSIJ 4 4 (2005) 133–149 (140 n. 19). 29 Several scholars suggest however, that the command “to �ee into the mountains” in Matthew XXIV, 16 alludes to the �ight o the Christians to Pella; see W. D. Davies and D. C. Allison, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew, (Edinburgh: . & . Clark 1997), vol. 3, 347.
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relevant to our investigation.30 We would like to stress several points with regard to Luke’s additions to Mark XIII, 14–16. We �rst remark that, contrary to Matthew’s and Mark’s accounts, Luke’s data clearly reers to the people “inside the city,” i.e. the congregation o Jerusalem; moreover Luke states that the latter had to leave the city. Te text speci�es that their �ight was supposed to have occurred afer the city was surrounded (“κυκλουμένη ”) with armies, but prior to its destruction (Luke XXI, 24). Koester, who admits that this passage reveals several similarities to the Pella tradition, objects however that Luke’ chronology is contradicted by Eusebius’ account according to which the �ight occurred beore the war. It appears though, that Luke’s data corresponds to the chronology given by Epiphanius which we preer to Eusebius. We shall comment this issue below. Finally, we suggest that the warning addressed to the people in i n the country not to take reuge in Jerusalem could echo the �ow o reugees who poured into the capital as Vespasian subdied the surrounding areas ( JW IV, IV, 106–107). Scholars who oppose the suggestion that Luke XXI, 20–24 alludes to the Pella tradition note that these verses do not speciy the destination o the �ight o “those inside the city.” Verheyden explains the many connections between this statement and the Pella tradition by the act that Eusebius, who in his view contrived this tale, took inspiration rom Luke’s account. 31 Although this issue is very difficult to assess, we agree with Koester that the least one can say is that the author o Luke XXI, 20–24 did know o people who �ed rom Jerusalem during the First Jewish War. In this regard, Simon recognized that the New estament writings strengthen the hypothesis o the historicity o the �ight to Pella, rather than undermining it.32 Tus, i Luke’s Gospel does indeed contain a genuine account o the ate o the Jewish-Christian community o Jerusalem, his statement constitutes the most ancient record o their escape rom the Holy City during the Great Revolt. wo other writings possibly relevant to the question o the �ight to Pella will now be considered. Te 12th chapter o the Book o Revo Revelation elation is thought by some scholars to have preserved an allusion to the �ight o the Jewish-Christians rom Jerusalem.33 According to this 30
See Appendix VIII. “Flight,” 381. 32 “Migration,” 40. 33 J. D. G. Dunn, Te Parting o the Ways: Between Christianity and Judaism and Teir Signi�cance or the Character o Christianity , (London: SCM, 1991), 233; J. J. Gunther, “Fate,” 87; S. Sowers, “Circumstances and Recollection,” 315–316; F. Manns, 31
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view, the woman who �ees pursued by the great red dragon, and seeks reuge in “the wilderness, where she has a place prepared by God” would represent the Church �eeing to Pella (XII, 6). Tis theory was rejected, notably by Brandon, who emphasized the apocalyptic imagery o the account in order to deny it any historical value.34 Although it is not our intention to deal with the exegesis o the Apocalypse, we wish to comment on this. I we take or granted that this account constitutes a genuine mention o the �ight to Pella (which is ar rom certain), it should be noted that its presentation o acts differs rom the other sources. In an earlier statement we stressed that both the PseudoPseudo-Clementines and Clementines and Eusebius emphasize that the aim o the �ight was to spare the righteous believers rom the chastisement o the wicked. In such a con�guration, the Roman armies constitute an element o secondary importance, or they only represent the instrument by means o which the impious are punished. It is remarkable that in the Book o Revelation o Revelation,, the Roman Empire, which is depicted as a great red dragon, appears to be the Church’s main enemy. Tus the �ight o the woman (the Church o Jerusalem) is the direct consequence o the persecutions o the dragon (the Roman Empire). I we were to accept that Revelation XII, Revelation XII, 6 alludes to the �ight to Pella, we could iner that it conveys a parallel tradition related to escape o the Jewish-Christian community rom Jerusalem, which was in circulation within different Christian streams. Finally we should mention a verse taken rom the Ascension the Ascension o Isaiah, iah, a pseudepigraphical text dating rom the second century C.E., which relates that the believers believers “�ee rom desert to desert, awaiting the coming o the Beloved” (IV, 13). Tis �ight to desert places has been identi�ed by ew scholars with the Christians’ migration to Pella.35 However, this theory is not universally accepted, or the account is too obscure. In light o this survey, we are disposed to consider that two sources anterior to Eusebius can be used as evidence or the Jewish-Christians’
Essais sur le judeo-christianisme, (Jerusalem: Franciscan Print Press 1977), 68; C. R. Smith, “Te Structure o the Book o Revelation in Light o Apocalyptic Literary Conventions”, Novum estamentum 4 (1994), 373– 393 (391). 34 Fall o Jerusalem, 176–177. 35 J. J. Gunther, “Fate,” 87; S. Sowers, “Circumstances and Recollection,” 314–315; B. Pixner, “Church o the Apostles ound on Mt Zion,” BAR 16 (May/ June 1990), 16–35, 60 (25).
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move rom Jerusalem in the course o the Jewish War, viz. Luke XXI, 20–24 and Recognitions I, Recognitions I, 37, 2 (Syr.); I, 39, 3 (Syr. & Lat.). �� ������ �� P���� We shall consider at this point the actual details o the Pella tradition, or they raise several intricate questions. Brandon was the �rst to call attention to the historical difficulties o the �ight to Pella. His arguments were subsequently taken up and developed by other scholars. Te �rst element or consideration concerns the choice o Pella as asylum. Brandon has cast doubt on the likelihood o the JewishChristians deciding to seek reuge in Pella. In his view, it seems very unlikely indeed that this community, which was scrupulous and in�exible about matters o law, should have chosen to settle in a city with strong pagan eatures. We suggest that the theory o a JewishChristian surrender to the Roman armies may explain this apparent anomaly. Josephus mentions on numerous occasions the desertions o Jerusalemite Jews, who then sought reuge with the Roman soldiers. Tis phenomenon seems to have increased once the Roman legions had completely surrounded Jerusalem. Indeed, the Romans themselves made many efforts to encourage the surrender o the Jews. Afer they had surrendered, some o the deserters appear to have been settled in relatively distant cities by the Roman authorities. As Josephus writes: For itus went rom Gischala to Cesarea, and Vespasian rom Cesarea to Jamnia and Azotus, and took them both; and when he had put garrisons into them, he came back with a great number o the people, who were come over to him, upon his giving them his right hand or their preservation (BJ (BJ IV, IV, 130).36
It is reasonable to assert that this policy towards deserters was widely extended, and that it represented an important part o the Roman war strategy. It is noteworthy that not only Vespasian (BJ ( BJ IV, 444) acted in such a way, but also itus (BJ (BJ VI, VI, 115) and Placidus (BJ (BJ IV, 438). Indeed, doing this would have enabled the Romans to keep Jewish deserters under guard away rom the battle�eld. 37 In addition, it
36
All citations o Josephus Josephus are taken rom the translation by W. Whiston Whiston in Flavius Josephus, Complete Works (1867; Reprint. Grand Rapids: Kregel Publication, 1960). 37 Tis remark is particularly valid or the �rst stage o the war as Vespasian submitted the areas surrounding Jerusalem; J. Price, who considers that “the Romans’
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should be stressed that the Romans only sent their prisoners to pagan or mixed cities. Tus, when Josephus relates the surrender o several important priests towards the end o the war, he writes that the latter were sent to Gophna, or itus was aware that “they would not willingly live afer the customs o other nations” (BJ (BJ VI, VI, 115). Tis tendentious statement, which was aimed at underlining itus’ alleged magnanimity, points out that the important priests bene�ted rom preerential treatment. Consequently we may conclude that Jewish deserters were usually settled in a pagan milieu. In this context G. Alon has demonstrated that Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai (hereafer RYbZ), afer he had �ed rom Jerusalem and surrendered to the Roman authorities, was compelled to settle in Iamnia [Yavneh]. 38 Josephus mentions twice that Azotus and Iamnia were used or settling the Jewish deserters (BJ (BJ IV, 130; IV, 444); but it appears that other towns were devoted to this purpose as well. In this context, we must look with particular attention at Josephus’s account o the conquest o Peraea. According to the latter, Placidius, toward the end o his military campaign: ell violently upon the neighboring smaller cities and villages; when he took Abilas, and Julias, and Bezemoth, and all those that lay as ar as the lake Asphaltitis, and put such o the deserters into each o them as he thought proper . . . insomuch that all Peraea had either surrendered themselves, or were taken by the Romans, as ar as Macherus (BJ ( BJ IV, 438).
Here the Romans, in accordance with their own policy, settled Jewish deserters in the cities, towns and villages o the subdued areas, in this case in Peraea. It is thus permissible to iner that at a later stage, afer policy on deserters was above all practical”, notes that itus’ treatments o ugitives during the siege o Jerusalem was less consistent, and oscillated between gestures o mercy and acts o cruelty ( Jerusalem Under Siege: Te Collapse o the Jewish State, 66–70 C.E., [Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1992], 293–297). 38 G. Alon, “Rabban Johannan ben Zakkai’s removal to Jabneh”, in Jews, Judaism and the Classical world , (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1977), 269–313. Tis speci�c point o Alon’s thesis has been accepted by several scholars; S. Sarai, “New investigations into the question o Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai’s status and acts afer the destruction” in Essays in Jewish History and Philology in Memory o Gedaliahu Alon, (el Aviv: Kibbutz Hameuchad, 1970), 203–226, (204), (Hebrew); A. J. Saldarini, “Johanan ben Zakkai’s Escape rom Jerusalem: Origin and Development o a Rabbinic Story,” JSJ 6:2 6:2 (1975), 189–204 (204). It appears, though, that the rest o his proposal regarding both RYBZ’ status and authority and the alleged-intent o the Romans to lead war against the Jewish people as a whole has been seriously challenged (S. Sarai, “Investigations”; J. Neusner, A Lie o Rabban Johanan ben Zakkai, [Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1970], 124–125). We shall return to the question o RYBZ’s egress rom Jerusalem below.
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the Romans had completely surrounded Jerusalem, Jewish deserters rom the metropolis were settled in Peraea, while others were sent to the cities o Paralia, like RYbZ. Finally, we wish to lay stress on the act that Epiphanius’ Panarion, ion, a relatively late source it is true, may echo a peculiar aspect o the Romans’ policy on deserters; we read thus in XXX, 2, 7: “ ἐπειδὴ γὰρ πάντες οἱ εἰς Χριστὸν πεπιστευκότες τὴν Περαίαν κατ’ ἐκεῖνο καιροῦ κατῴκησαν τὸ πλεῖστον ἐν Πέλλῃ τινὶ πόλει καλουμένῃ τῆς ∆εκαπόλεως τῆς ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ γεγραμμένης.” Tis account, which suggests that not all the Jewish-Christians were sent to Pella, corresponds well with Josephus’ text stating that Placidius settled deserters all over Peraea. Tus the difficulty in question could be overcome by considering that the Jewish-Christians did not choose to take reuge at Pella but were settled there by the Roman authorities. �� ���� �� ��� ��������� �� P���� Brandon’s strongest argument against the authenticity o the �ight to Pella is grounded on the very obscure chronology o this story. He concludes thereore that the Jewish-Christians’ move rom Jerusalem could not have taken place at any time during the course o the Jewish War. According to Eusebius’ data, the migration to Pella occurred “beore the war”, in other words beore Cestius Gallus’ campaign in 66 C.E. Now Josephus states that Pella was destroyed by the Jewish rebels in retaliation or the slaughter o the Jews o Caesarea during the summer 66 C.E. (BJ (BJ II, 458). Consequently Brandon asserts that i the Jewish-Christian community o Jerusalem were already living there “it would seem unlikely that they, a party o renegades, would have survived the vengeance o their erocious country men.” 39 In his view, it is also improbable that the Jewish-Christians moved to Pella aferwards, or they would not have been welcomed by the heathen survivors. Finally, Brandon thinks that such a group would have scarcely survived Vespasian’s campaign in Peraea (which took place in the spring o 68 C.E.), or the Roman troops would have slaughtered both Jews and Jewish-Christians indiscriminately.
39
Fall o Jerusalem, 170.
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Unlike Eusebius, Epiphanius links the �ight to Pella to the beginning o the siege o Jerusalem. Brandon also objects to the latter’s accounts and rises three objections to such a chronology. First, it is very unlikely that such an important group could have succeeded in escaping the attention o the Zealots, who held harsh control over Jerusalem and prevented anyone rom �eeing. Secondly, it is hard to conceive that they would have managed to travel with their goods through the Roman lines. Lastly, it is improbable that the Jewish-Christians would have managed to settle and to live saely in a heathen city like Pella, among a hostile gentile population. Brandon’s arguments appear to be valid as ar as the �rst stage o the Jewish War is concerned. Te destruction o Pella by the Jewish rebels in the late summer o 66 and the stubborn hostility o the pagan inhabitants towards the Jews make it unlikely that the JewishChristians settled in this city beore 68 C.E. Scholars who uphold the authenticity o the �ight to Pella have advanced several arguments in order to solve this difficulty. It has been proposed, thereore, that there was an established community o Gentile Christians at Pella, who may have taken in and deended the reugees rom Jerusalem. In this connection Mark V, 1–20 (which reports Jesus’ healing o a demoniac in the “country o the Gadarenes”) would attest to the early presence o a Christian mission in this area.40 Moreover, these scholars have emphasized the act that the reactions o various pagan cities to the reprisal expedition led by the Jews were quite different; thus, we read in BJ , II, 480 that the Gentiles at Gerasa not only lef their Jewish ellow citizens in peace, but also aided them. According to this view, insomuch as Josephus does not state that Jews were slaughtered at Pella, one can conjecture that there was no retaliation there.41 However it seems to us that Josephus singled out the case o the Jews o Gerasa because their ate was exceptional; it is thus reasonable to think that he would have reported the rescue o the Jews at Pella i the latter had been spared. In this respect it needs to be recalled that, in the reign o Alexander Jannaeus (103–76 B.C.E.), Pella had been captured and destroyed because its inhabitants reused to convert to Judaism ( AJ XIII, 397); although these events had occurred a century and hal earlier, they
40 41
R. Pritz, “On Brandon’ s Rejection,” 41–42. S. Sowers, “Circumstances and Recollection,” 309–310.
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would certainly have lef a bitter memory o the Jews in the minds o the gentile residents o Pella. Consequently, the relocation o the Jewish-Christians in Pella priori grounds very improbable as ar as the two �rst appears on a priori years o the war are concerned. However, in our opinion, the subjection o Galilee by Vespasian and the subsequent conquest o Peraea (in the course o spring 68 C.E.) would have modi�ed these circumstances. Accordingly all o Brandon’s objections could be resolved i the Jewish-Christian community o Jerusalem were to have lef the city in the course o spring 68 C.E., as the Roman orces completed the subjection o the areas surrounding Jerusalem. We shall look �rst at the general circumstances which prevailed ollowing the submission o Galilee, in order to demonstrate that the new situation could have precipitated the Christians’ �ight. Our investigation, which is mainly based on Josephus’ works, will ocus on the ate o the Jewish deserters who managed to escape rom Jerusalem as the net was closing around the Holy City. Contrary to Brandon’s assertion, it appears that the phenomenon o desertions rom Jerusalem increased as Vespasian completed the surrounding o the city. Although Josephus emphasizes the difficulties o escaping rom Jerusalem (certainly in order to present the Jewish revolutionaries in a bad light), we read on numerous occasions that large numbers o people �ed rom the city in order to seek reuge with the Romans. Te �rst mention o such surrenders occurs in BJ IV, 377, when Vespasian is beginning to plan the conquest o Jerusalem, in late 67 C.E. Subsequent statements (BJ (BJ IV, IV, 397; 410) point to an increase in this trend, at least until the summer o 68 C.E. Tis phenomenon most likely arose or a number o reasons. First, it is very probable that the subjection o Galilee by the Roman troops reduced the motivation to �ght among the Jewish moderates who had joined the rebels afer their �rst military success. Besides, as mentioned earlier, it seems that the Romans encouraged the Jews to surrender. Tere is reason to think that this policy was a major part o the Roman strategy aimed at leading to the submission o the area in general, and Jerusalem in particular. In this respect, Josephus mentions on many occasions that the Romans were ready to negotiate with the Jews and to give guarantees to deserters. In this way, ollowing the paci�cation o Galilee, Vespasian (as pointed above) conquered Iamnia and Ascalon in order to settle there “a great number o the people, who were come over to him, upon his
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giving them his right hand or their preservation” (BJ (BJ IV, 130). We shall discuss the terms o such guarantees below. Finally, it is obvious that internal political upheavals lead to the departure o many Jews rom Jerusalem. Indeed, the submission o Galilee caused many Galileans to seek reuge in Jerusalem: Josephus writes that at the same time “the captains o these troops o robbers” got into the capital city (BJ IV, 135). Tis �ood o people strengthened the position o the most radical revolutionaries and increased the intensity o the civil war. Tese considerations make it likely that many Jews wished to �ee rom Jerusalem at this precise moment. Besides, in light o these events, Vespasian decided to postpone the siege o the city in order to let the Jews tear each other to pieces. Josephus adds that “. . . and it was soon discovered how wise an opinion he (Vespasian) had given. And indeed many there were o the Jews that deserted every day, and �ed away rom the Zealots, although their �ight was very difficult . . .” (BJ IV, IV, 377). It is clear, then, that in spite o the difficulties in �eeing, and contrary to Brandon’s view, it was still possible to escape rom Jerusalem at least until the summer 68 C.E. (BJ ( BJ IV, IV, 490). At this point, we shall attempt to establish the exact reasons which drove the Jewish-Christians to escape rom Jerusalem at this time, although inevitably such a demonstration can only be based on speculations. At the beginning o the ourth book o the Jewish War , Josephus gives an extensive account o the rebels’ atrocities and impious behavior. He mentions in particular that the revolutionaries r evolutionaries who occupied the emple appointed a “rustic” man, Phannias son o Samuel, as high priest in violation o the religious law or he was “unworthy o the high priesthood”(BJ priesthood”(BJ IV, IV, 155). We now turn to the Slavonic version o the Jewish War , or this rendering links this speci�c event to the apparition o an “abomination in the holy place”; a description which is very close to Matthew XXIV, 15. Although the origin o the Slavonic additions is very obscure, it is very likely that this passage constitutes a Christian interpolation and that it was included by a Christian copyist. Accordingly, we can say that there was a Christian tradition (which is hard to date) which connected the Zealots’ impieties and sacrilege to the ul�llment o Jesus’ prophecy about the “Desolating Sacrilege.” 42
42
For a survey o the scholarship on this issue, see the introduction o H. and K. Leeming, Josephus’ Jewish War and its Slavonic Version, (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2003), 1–105.
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We must also note that some scholars think that Matthew XXIII, 35: So that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed on earth, rom the blood o righteous Abel to the blood o Zechariah son o Barachiah whom you murdered between the sanctuary and the altar.
reers to the slaughter o Zacchariah ben Baris mentioned by Josephus in BJ IV, IV, 335.43 I this supposition is correct, it would strengthen the impression that the synoptic Gospels preserve a bitter memory o some o the Zealots’ misdeeds. It is thereore likely that the JewishChristian community, ollowing the example o many other Jews, suered harshly at the revolutionaries’ hands. As Josephus writes in this context “and indeed there was no part o the people but they ound out some pretense to destroy them” (BJ ( BJ IV 363). 363). Finally, we should stress the act that at this time the Zealots’ main opponent was the High Priest Ananus ben Ananus. According to Josephus, in the year 62 C.E., the latter orchestrated the murder o James, the leader o the Jewish-Christian community ( AJ XX, XX, 200). Although Ananus took the leadership o the revolt as early as 66 C.E., it is reasonable to suppose that the Jewish-Christians decided to leave the city when they were threatened rom both sides. Now that we have brie�y described the general context o the spring o 68 C.E., we shall attempt to speciy more accurately when the Jewish-Christians �ed rom Jerusalem. Tereore we shall �rst endeavor quem. I we are right in believing that the to de�ne our terminus post quem. Jerusalem Jewish-Christians were established in Pella by the Roman authorities subsequently to their surrender, it is reasonable to believe that their move there only happened afer the absolute submission o Peraea. Here it is relevant to note that the settlement o Jewish deserters in the cities o Peraea occurred towards the end o Placidus’ military campaign in the area (BJ IV, 438). Although no precise dating is given, it seems that the conquest o Peraea, which started with the capture o Gadara on March 21, 68 C.E. (BJ ( BJ IV, 414) was completed shortly beore the taking o Jericho on June 21, 68 (BJ ( BJ IV, IV, 450). We now need to de�ne our terminus ante quem. quem. o this end, we shall turn to the several sources which reer to the migration to Pella. We should stress that we consider Epiphanius’ accounts more reliable here than those o Eusebius. As noted earlier, Eusebius’ account o the 43
J. Wellhausen, Einleitung in die drei ersten Evangelien, (1905; 2nd ed.; Berlin: G. Reimer, 1911), 118–123; it must be said, though, that nowadays this hypothesis is viewed negatively by b y most scholars.
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�ight to Pella is part o a global vision o history, in which the Jews are punished by God or their impiety and misdeeds. Tus Eusebius states that this punishment occurred afer “those that believed in Christ” had removed not only rom Jerusalem, but also rom “the whole land o Judaea”. Te removal o the Jewish-Christians who lived all over Judaea (and not only in Jerusalem) was thereore a precondition to the chastisement o the Jews. Te logical corollary o this condition is that the �ight to Pella cannot have taken place afer the outbreak o the revolt which devastated the whole province, but only, as Eusebius writes “πρὸ τοῦ πολέμου”. In light o this consideration, we suspect the chronology o this account to have been altered or the purposes o Eusebius’ own theological demonstration. In contradistinction, we regard Epiphanius’ chronology as more reliable than that o Eusebius, or two reasons: First, because Epiphanius’ accounts, unlike Eusebius’, are devoid o any theological aim and appear to be quite incidental in his work. Secondly, because his three statements relating to the Jewish-Christians’ migration to Pella, in spite o their ew differences, point out that the �ight occurred when Jerusalem was about to be besieged. Although such an assertion cannot be a proo o the truthulness o Epiphanius’ data, it does strengthen the impression o reliability o these particular accounts. Moreover, it would seem that Epiphanius’ chronology tallies with Luke XXI, 20–21. Read literally, such a statement seems to describe the very last stage o Jerusalem’s siege; but i we understand more widely, it could also reer to the submission o the areas around Jerusalem. In this context we note that Josephus writes that afer the conquest o Jericho on June 21, 68 C.E. (BJ (BJ IV, IV, 450), and beore Vespasian was inormed o Nero’s death (on June 9, 68 C.E.): And now the war having gone through all the mountainous country, and all the plain country also, those that were at Jerusalem were deprived o the liberty o going out o the city; or as to such as had a mind to desert, they were watched by the Zealots; and as to such as were not yet on the side o the Romans, their army kept them in, by encompassing the city round about all sides (BJ (BJ IV, IV, 490).
Such a statement cannot be considered as an absolute terminus ante quem, quem, or some Jews managed to �ee rom Jerusalem aferwards. However it is clear that escaping rom the Holy City was made very
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difficult by the Zealots afer they took over the city in the late spring o 68 C.E. Here we should turn to the semantic value o the verb: “ ἐκ-χωρέω” which describes in Luke’s account the escape o those “inside the city.” ἐκ-χωρέω can be understood as “to remove rom” in the sense o “�eeing rom;” in such a case it has the same value as φεύγω which is related earlier to the ate o “those in Judaea” (this sentence occurs in the other synoptic Gospels). However, it can also mean “to go away, to depart rom, to emigrate;” in such a case it may well indicate that the community lef Jerusalem at a time when such an enterprise was not too perilous, in other words, when Ananus’ men were still in control o the walls and the gates (BJ ( BJ IV, IV, 236; 275). Tus, in light o all these considerations, we conclude that the Jewish-Christians must have lef Jerusalem in the late spring o 68 C.E., ollowing the submission o Peraea and beore the Zealots’ takeover o Jerusalem, when Vespasian had succeeded in completely surrounding the city (June 68 C.E.). �� M������� D����������� Brandon also tries to demonstrate that numerous material difficulties would have prevented the Jewish-Christians rom escaping to Pella. He �rst maintains that the �ight itsel was improbable, or in his opinion, it is very unlikely that the Jewish-Christian community (which certainly included children, women and old men) would have managed to travel saely through Peraea, which had been successively devastated by the Jewish rebels and the Roman troops. However, i we assume that the Jewish-Christians actually surrendered to the Romans, this difficulty is overcome. In this regard we shall examine the statement quoted above (BJ (BJ IV, IV, 130), which reers to the ate o deserters ollowing the all o Galilee. We understand rom this passage that the Jewish reugees, afer they had negotiated their surrender, were escorted by the Roman troops to their new places o residence. Tis precaution was aimed not only at watching those who had surrendered, but also protecting them rom both the seditious Jews and the heathen inhabitants. We note, besides, that the Romans apparently encouraged the Jews to surrender in groups (BJ (BJ VI, 384). In light o both o these accounts, the Jewish-Christian community’s move to Pella does not seem physically improbable.
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Brandon then states that it is unlikely that the Jewish-Christians would have settled in Pella, because the city was destroyed by the rebels in reprisal or the slaughter o their brethren in Caesarea in summer 66 C.E. (BJ (BJ II, 457). Several scholars tend to qualiy Josephus’ statement, and estimate that the extent o sacking at Pella was much smaller.44 In their excavation report dated to 1958, R. W. Funk and H. N. Richardson concluded that Pella was destroyed either at a late Hellenistic date or early in the Roman period; they thus hesitated to attribute the devastation o the city to Alexander Jannaeus or to the Jewish insurrectionists in 66 C.E.45 Since then, it has been established that the traces o demolition are to be ascribed to the Hasmonean king. Tus, so ar as it seems, the archeological excavations in Pella have not revealed any evidence o destruction rom the late �rst century C.E. 46 Apart rom this, it should be remembered that in the course o his military campaign Vespasian ordered the reconstruction o many cities that had been devastated (BJ (BJ IV, IV, 440). And although Josephus does not mention any o the cities which were rebuilt by name, it is reasonable to suppose that the Romans would have restored Pella (i the city really had been destroyed) on account o its relative importance. Finally, in Brandon’s view it is very unlikely that the heathen survi vors o the Jewish sacking would have let a Jewish group settle in Pella. Here Simon agrees with Brandon.47 In our opinion, however, the strong presence o Roman troops would have enabled this sort o coexistence, in spite o the deep hostility that prevailed between Jews and pagans. Josephus reers on many occasions to the settling o Roman orces in numerous conquered towns. In this context, we should emphasize that in BJ IV, IV, 130 the settlement o the Jewish deserters in Iamnia [Yavneh] and Azotus was preceded by the installation o garrisons there. Moreover, we read in BJ VI, 113 that Jewish notables who surrendered to itus during the siege o Jerusalem were subsequently sent to Gophna.
44
M. Simon, “Migration,” 45–46; R. Pritz, “On Brandon’ s Rejection,” 41–42. R. W. Funk and H. N. Richardson, “Te Sounding at Pella,” Te Biblical Archaelogist 21 21 (1958), 82–98 (94–95 n. 33). 46 R. H. Smith and L. P. Day, Pella o the Decapolis, Volume 2: Final Report o the College o Wooster Excavations in Area IX, the Civic Complex, 1979–1985, (Wooster, Ohio: College o Wooster, 1989), 3–7; A. W. McNicollt, P. C. Edwards, J. Hanburyenison, J. B. Hennessy, . F. Potts, R. H. Smith, A. Walmsley, P. Watson, Pella in Jordan 2: Te Second Interim Report o the Joint University o Sydney and College o Wooster Excavations at Pella 1982–1985, (Sydney: Meditarch, 1992), 119–122. 47 M. Simon, “Migration,” 42. 45
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It is likely that their settlement there was not ortuitous, or Vespasian had previously provided Gophna with Roman troops (BJ (BJ V, V, 50). Tus, Josephus adds that these notables “retired to that small city . . . in complete security.” Te Roman authorities appear to have proceeded very methodically within the ramework o their policy towards deserters. On at least three different occasions, Josephus mentions that Vespasian (BJ IV, IV, 130), Placidus (BJ ( BJ IV, 438) and itus (BJ (BJ VI, 113) supervised the installation o Jewish deserters in paci�ed and secured areas. Tus in spite o Brandon’s arguments, a Jewish-Christian settlement in Pella during the course o the Great Revolt is physically possible, i we concede that it was under the supervision o the Roman authorities. R������������� In light o our demonstration above, we thus propose that the JewishChristian community o Jerusalem did not �ee prior to the war, but remained in the Holy City at least until the beginning o 68 C.E. Ten, as the Roman legions advanced in the vicinity o Jerusalem, the members o the community, or at least some o them, like many other Jews, escaped rom the city and surrendered to the Roman authorities. It is likely that this �ight occurred in the late spring o 68 C.E., ollowing the submission o Peraea and prior to the Zealots’ absolute takeover o Jerusalem. Although this proposal can only be based on speculation, we shall now attempt to reconstruct the unolding o the �ight itsel. It is reasonable to suppose that the Jewish-Christians, afer �eeing rom Jerusalem, would have encountered the Roman orces east o the Holy City, probably in Jericho where we know that Vespasian placed garrisons (BJ (BJ IV, 486). Tis could explain why the Jewish-Christians were subsequently sent to Peraea, unlike many other deserters who were settled in the coastal cities. Although they were considered as deeated persons, we think it is likely that the Jewish deserters did negotiate the terms o their surrender with the Roman authorities. Tus we shall examine with particular attention the account that tells o the desertion o Jewish notables during the siege o Jerusalem (BJ ( BJ VI, 113–116). According to this account, itus, afer he was inormed that the “Daily Sacri�ce” in the emple had been interrupted, commanded Josephus to address the besieged rebels. Reporting Caesar’s message, Josephus emphasized that surrender was still possible. Although the
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rebel leader John o Gischala and his soldiers remained in�exible, he writes, “a great many o the better sort” were in�uenced by his words; some o them (including high priests and noblemen) even managed to �ee, and sought reuge with itus. Josephus adds here Now Caesar not only received these men very kindly in other respects, but, knowing they would not willingly live afer the customs o other nations, he sent them to Gophna and desired them to remain there or the present, and told them, that when he was gotten clear o this war, he would restore each o them to their possessions again; so they cheerully retired to that small city which was allotted them, without ear o any danger.
Te tendentiousness o Josephus’ works is obvious and itus’ kindness toward the Jews is undoubtedly exaggerated; however we wish to stress several points here. First, it is noteworthy that itus himsel led the discussions with the deserters; such a con�guration is not unlikely, or on other occasions Vespasian is said to have personally interered in the issue o the Jewish deserters (BJ (BJ IV, IV, 130, 410). Secondly, Josephus seems to indicate that those Jewish notables bene�ted rom preerential treatment (clearly on account o their nobility): in spite o the Roman practice o settling Jewish deserters in pagan cities, these were sent to a Jewish town. Moreover, itus assured them that their stay in Gophna would only be temporary and that they would eventually recover their possessions. Tus we conclude that this statement re�ects the terms o a negotiation drawn up between these deserters and the Roman authorities. itus’ efforts to encourage the Jews to surrender make it likely that the Romans were disposed to accept some o deserters’ requests (BJ ( BJ VI, 117). It is reasonable to iner that this passage echoes the guarantees given by Vespasian to the “great number o people” whom he subsequently led to Jamnia and Azotus (BJ (BJ . IV, 130). We shall now turn to look at to the rabbinic literature, and particularly the passages which reer to RYbZ’s move to Yavneh. 48 Despite its legendary eatures and the relatively late date o its �nal literary orm, the tale o RYbZ’s surrender certainly contains some authentic mate-
48
Avot de R. Nathan, version A, iv, (ed. Schechter, 22–24), version B, vi, (ed. Schechter, 19); Lamentations Rabbah i, 5, (ed. Buber, 65–69); B Gittin 56a-b; Midrash Proverbs xv, (ed. Buber, 79–80).
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rial. In this connection, J. Neusner has remarked that “the comment o Rabbi Akiva on the alleged conversation between Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai and Vespasian” appears to demonstrate that the tradition was known very early.49 So, in spite o the inconsistencies they contain, we wish to point out to a number o similarities between these accounts and the statement o Josephus quoted above. We remark �rst that RYbZ is said to have met Vespasian in person. Some scholars have rejected the story o this encounter outright as being completely lacking in historical oundation. It has been argued, or instance, that the authors o this tradition were in�uenced by the narrative o Josephus’ surrender.50 However, in spite o these considerations, there is reason to believe that these accounts convey a nucleus o genuine tradition. Although the historicity o the dialogue between RYbZ and Vespasian is highly challengeable, it is not unlikely, as we have shown above, that the ormer negotiated his surrender with some high Roman official. Secondly, it is noteworthy that all the accounts agree in saying that Caesar granted him a avour, whether it was the gif o Yavneh itsel or the permission to establish a study centre there. Finally, we note an odd correlation between the sentence “ ” attributed to RYbZ in B Gittin 56b, and the use o the expression “εἰς τὸ δοθὲν πολίχνιον” in the account that reers to the Jewish deserters’ removal to Gophna. It is unlikely that these cities (Yavneh/Iamnia and Gophna) were actually given to the Jewish deserters, but this consideration could indicate that they bene�ted rom some rights. G. Alon believes, however, that RYbZ, like other Jewish prisoners, was held in custody at Yavneh [Iamnia] under hard conditions. In his view, the treatment o the deserters by the Romans (which he believes to have been particularly harsh) was part o their general policy that aimed at “the suppression and annihilation o the (Jewish) people.”51 Although we agree that the Jewish deserters were settled either in pagan or in mixed cities by the Roman authorities, we tend to assume that their conditions were not as severe as G. Alon has proposed or two main reasons. First, since the Romans generally sought to encourage the 49
B Gittin 56b. See: J. Neusner, Neusner, “In quest o the historical Rabban Yohanan Yohanan ben Zakkai,” Harvard Teological Review 59 (1966), 393. 50 G. Alon, “Rabban Johannan ben Zakkai,” 276; J. Price, Jerusalem Under Siege, 264–270; A. ropper, “Yohanan ben Zakkai, Amicus Caesaris,” 148. Other scholars are indecisive with regard to the historicity o the encounter between Vespasian and RYBZ; see A. J. Saldarini, “Johanan ben Zakkai’s Escape,” 204. 51 “Rabban Johannan ben Zakkai,” 291.
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Jews to surrender as part o their war strategy; they were thereore inclined to consent to some o the deserters’ requests: as stated above, BJ VI, VI, 113–118 is very revealing in this regard. Secondly, the Roman generals most likely had in mind to preserve a reliable inrastructure or the post-war local leadership. Tus, although the historicity o the personal encounter between Vespasian and RYbZ remains a moot question, it is still reasonable to suppose that this tradition preserves the memory o the latter’s surrender and o its negotiation with the Roman authorities. In light o these considerations, we propose that the Jewish-Christians did negotiate the terms o their surrender. Tus, ollowing the example o the Jewish high priests who surrendered to itus, they might have received the assurance that their stay at Pella would be temporary and that they would eventually recover their possessions. Te Jewish-Christians would presumably have surrendered in a group, since they were all members o the same community. Such a conjecture is strengthened by the memory preserved by the Christian tradition, and it also corresponds to the Roman efforts to encourage group �ight. Aferwards, in accordance with their agreement with the Imperial authorities, the Jewish-Christians would have settled in Pella under the Romans’ supervision and remained there in saety, or garrisons were established all over the conquered areas. Can we iner rom this survey that the members o this community were officially allowed to live in Jerusalem and to recover their goods and properties shortly afer the war? Here we shall consider the main sources that reer to the presence o a Jewish-Christian Church in Jerusalem ollowing the destruction o the emple. Te most wideranging collection o accounts related to this community is to be ound in Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History History . According to Eusebius’ own words, his material derived rom various ancient writings and traditions, and notably rom the works o the second century writer Hegesippus. Eusebius �rst hints at the presence in Jerusalem o a Jewish-Christian congregation afer the Jewish War by relating the election o Symeon o Clopas to the Episcopal throne. Tus he writes that, ollowing the destruction o Jerusalem, “the apostles and disciples o the Lord . . . and those that were related to the Lord according to the �esh” gathered “rom all directions” in an unspeci�ed place, and choose Symeon, the son o Clopas to be James’ heir (HE ( HE III, 11). In the ollowing state-
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ments it becomes clear that Symeon ruled the Church o Jerusalem (HE III, HE III, 22; 33).52 According to some scholars these accounts, which make it seem as i there always had been a Church in Jerusalem, stand in con�ict with the alleged �ight o the Christians rom the city. In act, in Lüdemann’s opinion, the Pella tradition is not likely to have reported the return o the heirs o the “Mother Church” to Jerusalem since it was part o the oundation story o the community at Pella. It appears, though, that the material conveyed by Hegesippus (as it has come down to us through Eusebius’ writings) is silent about the period between James’ HE, II, 23) and the election o martyrdom (which preceded the revolt; HE, Symeon to the head o the Church o Jerusalem afer the war (HE (HE,, III, 11). As previously said, this obscure gap could be explained by the act that Hegesippus was driven by apologetic considerations and merely sought to emphasize the continuity o the Church and the genuineness o its tradition; thus, it would seem likely that he did not wish to mention the least disruption in the “Mother Church’s” history. In any event, one could say at most, that no account explicitly ascribed to Hegesippus is known to us regarding the ate o the Jerusalem Church during the Jewish War. Furthermore, we do not know any tradition which contradicts the �ight to Pella and clearly certi�es that the Jewish-Christians remained in the besieged city. So, it turns out that the above-mentioned set o traditions does not cancel out the hypothesis o a temporary exile o the Jewish-Christians rom Jerusalem. Epiphanius was the �rst to explicitly mention the return o the Jewish-Christians to the holy city. Tus we read in his treatise On Weights and Measures (XV) Measures (XV) that “the disciples o the disciples o the apostles” came back rom Pella afer the War, and rom then on lived and taught in Jerusalem. Irshai considers that Epiphanius merely tried to harmonize the different traditions ound in Eusebius’ writings. 53 However, i we conclude that the bishop o Salamis did not rely on Eusebius, it is reasonable to suppose that his source did report the return o the Christians rom Pella to Jerusalem. 52
Other reerences to the presence o a Jewish-Christian congregation at at Jerusalem beore the Bar Kokhva Revolt are to be ound elsewhere in Eusebius’ work: HE III, 35; IV, 5, 3; 6, 4; Demonstratio Evangelica III, 5; Teophania V, 45 (Syriac version). 53 “From the Church o the Circumcised,” 76.
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Lastly we should note an interesting statement o the tenth-century Patriarch o Alexandria, Eutychius, who reports that the Christians came back to Jerusalem under the leadership o Symeon the son o Clopas in the ourth year o Vespasian (73–74 C.E.). 54 Tus, there is a reasonable a priori case or supposing that the Jewish-Christians returned to Jerusalem ollowing the suppression o the revolt. S���� ��� ������������ Te theory o a Jewish-Christian surrender to the Roman orces during the spring o 68 C.E. allows us to draw several conclusions. First, it must be stated that the migration to Pella did not lead to the religious separation between the Jewish-Christians and their Jewish brethren as several scholars have proposed.55 Indeed, according to Josephus, many Jews surrendered to the Roman orces in the course o the war. Teir desertion took place or different reasons, but it cannot be considered as an abandoning o their Jewish identity or o their religious belies. Apostasy on the part o the Jewish-Christian ugitives would have implied their renunciation o the law o the athers in the manner, or instance, o the preect o Egypt iberius Alexander about whom Josephus writes that he “did not continue in the religion o his country” ( AJ XX, XX, 100–103). Tere is no reason to believe that the move o the Jewish-Christians rom Jerusalem entailed such a development; indeed, this event does not pose the question o their religious identity. Furthermore, it should be remembered that RYbZ, in spite o his �ight rom Jerusalem during the siege, took over the leadership o Palestinian Judaism afer the destruction o the emple. Some scholars have advanced the hypothesis that the latter was widely reproached by his contemporaries or having escaped rom Jerusalem.56 Although the most extremist elements o the people undoubtedly condemned this
54
Eutychius o Alexandria, Annales, (Mignes, PG 111 col. 985). P. E. Davies, “Early Christian Attitudes owards owards Judaism and the Jews”, Journal o Bible and Religion, 13 (1945), 72–82 (73–75); W. H. C. Frend, Te Early Church, (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1965), 44–45; M. R. Wilson, Our ather Abraham: Jewish Roots o the Christian Faith, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), 76–77. 56 A. J. Saldarini, “Johanan ben Zakkai’s Escape,” 203; 203; A. ropper, “Yohanan ben Zakkai, Amicus Caesaris,” 140. 55
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sage, it appears that many Jews adopted a moderate position towards the Romans; in this connection J. Neusner writes that “Yohanan’ act o surrender must have appeared neither unique nor treasonable to very large number o Jews.”57 Likewise, it would appear very improbable that the surrender o the Jewish-Christians set them apart rom the rest o the people. We may also wonder about the signi�cance o the Jewish-Christians’ presence within Jerusalem until 68 C.E., which might possibly indicate that the Jewish-Christians did not condemn the Jewish uprising at its start. Indeed, many o the Jews who were opposed to the revolt lef Jerusalem as early as November 66 C.E., right afer Cestius’ deeat (BJ II, II, 556). Does this consideration allow us to state that the JewishChristians did support the Jewish revolt to some extent? At any event, their commitment must have been quite restrained since, as we argue, they dissociated themselves in a later stage rom the most extreme rebels and sought to escape rom the Zealots’ growing power. We note besides that desertion to the Roman side was not the only way to escape the Zealots’ yoke: we read or instance in BJ IV, IV, 574 that some Jerusalemite Jews ound reuge with Simon Bar-Giora, another rebel leader, when he was still outside the city. It is possible to deduce rom this data that surrender to the Romans was a considered step, rather than a desperate act. However it cannot be inerred rom their move rom Jerusalem that the Jewish-Christians did not share any o their brethren’s national aspirations. Teir decision to leave the city was a pragmatic one; it responded to the speci�c political developments which occurred in Jerusalem in the course o the year 68 C.E. Tus it would appear that the implications o the removal o the Jerusalemite Jewish-Christians to Pella were less ar-reaching than is usually thought; in any event, this occurrence can by no means be considered as a watershed in the relations between Jews and Jewish-Christians.58
57
A Lie, 105. Here we would agree with D. Boyarin and G. Hasan-Rokem that the escape o the Jerusalem church cannot be cited “as evidence or a break between ‘Christianity’ and the Jewish people.” D. Boyarin, Dying or God: Martyrdom and the Making o Christianity and Judaism, (Stanord, CA: Stanord University Press, 1999), 136 n. 19. 58
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I Ecclesiastical History III, 5, 3 “Te people o the Church in Jerusalem were commanded by an oracle given by revelation beore the war to those in the city who were worthy o it to depart and dwell in one o the cities o Perea which they called Pella. o it those who believed on Christ traveled rom Jerusalem, so that when holy men had altogether deserted the royal capital o the Jews and the whole land o Judaea, the judgement o God might at last overtake them rom or all their crimes against the Christ and his Apostles, and all that generation o the wicked be utterly blotted out rom among men.” English translation by K. Lake in the Loeb Classical Library (1926; Cambridge: Harvard University Press 2001), 201. II Panarion XXIX, 7, 7 “Tis heresy o the Nazoraeans exists in Beroea in the neighbourhood o Coele Syria and the Decapolis in the region o Pella and in Basanitis in the so-called Kokaba, Chochabe in Hebrew. For rom there it took its beginnings afer the exodus rom Jerusalem when all the disciples went to live in Pella because Christ had told them to leave Jerusalem and to go away since it would undergo a siege. Because o this advice they lived in Perea, afer having moved to that place, as I said. Tere the Nazoraean heresy had its beginning.” English translation by A. F. J. Klijn and G. Reinink, Patristic Evidence or Jewish Christian Sects, Sects, (Leiden: E. J. Brill 1973), 173. III Panarion XXX, 2, 7 “Afer all those who believed in Christ settled down about that time in Perea, the majority (o them) in a city called Pella o the Decapolis 59 o which it is written in the Gospel that it is situated in the neighbourhood o the region o Batanaea and Basanitis, Ebion’s preaching originated here afer they has moved to this place and had lived there.” Evidence, English translation by A. F. J. Klijn and G. Reinink, Patristic Evidence, 177. 59
We have altered the translation o Klijn and Reinink, which reads: “Afer all those who believed in Christ had generally come to live in Perea, in a city called Pella o the Decapolis”.
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IV De Mensuris et Ponderibus XV “So Aquila, while he was in Jerusalem, also saw the disciples o the disciples o the apostles �ourishing in the aith and working great signs, healings, and other miracles. For they were such as had come back rom the city o Pella to Jerusalem and were living there and teaching. For when the city was about to be taken and destroyed by the Romans, it was revealed in advance to all the disciples by an angel o God that they should remove rom the city, as it was going to be completely destroyed. Tey sojourned as emigrants in Pella, the city above mentioned in ransjordania. And this city is said to be o the Decapolis. But afer the destruction o Jerusalem, when they had returned to Jerusalem, as I have said, they wrought great signs, as I have already said.” ranslation by J. E. Dean, Epiphanius’ reatise on Weights and Measures. Te Syriac Version, Version , (Chicago: University o Chicago Press, 1935), 30–31. V Recognitions I, 37, 2 (Syriac) “And all this he [Moses] contrived or them, that . . . those who believed in him (Jesus), in the Wisdom o God, would be led to a secure place o the land that they might survive and be preserved rom the war, which aferward came upon those who did not believe, because o their division or their destruction.” ranslation by C. Koester in “Origin and Circumstances,” 98–99. VI Recognitions I, 39, 3 (Syriac) “So that when they pleased God in his ineffable wisdom, they would be saved rom the war which was about to come or the destruction o those who were not persuaded.” ranslation by C. Koester in “Origin and Circumstances”, 100–101. VII Recognitions I, 39, 3 (Latin) “And then, moreover, a clear indication o this great mystery is pro vided, namely, that everyone who, believing in this prophet who was oretold by Moses, would be baptized in his name, would be kept unhurt rom the destruction o the war which hangs over the unbelieving nation and the place itsel.” ranslation by C. Koester in “Origin and Circumstances” 100–101.
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VIII Luke XXI, 20–24 “When you see Jerusalem surrounded by armies, then know that its desolation has come near. Ten those in Judea must �ee to the mountains, and those inside the city must leave it, and those out in the country must not enter it; or these are days o vengeance, as a ul�llment o all that is written. Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing inants in those days! For there will be great distress on the earth and wrath against this people; they will all by the edge o the sword and be taken away as captives among all nations; and Jerusalem will be trampled on by the Gentiles, until the times o Gentiles are ul�lled.”
HE EMPLE IN MARK. A CASE SUDY ABOU HE EARLY CHRISIAN AIUDE OWARD HE EMPLE Eyal Regev I����������� Te emple was undoubtedly the central religious institution in Second emple Judaism. Te sacri�cial cult together with the emple itsel were one o the two pillars o ancient Judaism (the other was the orah).1 Did the early Christians o the �rst century C.E. have a religious commitment to the Jerusalem emple, either in the practical or symbolic sense? Most scholars have answered negatively, concluding that since Jesus became the central (and perhaps the sole) means o atonement and salvation or Christians, the emple cult became religiously insigni�cant and the Church took its place. 2 Many have attributed severance rom the emple or even rejection o it to the historical Jesus.3 Interpreters o Mark have tended to presume (without demonstrating it) a completely negative approach toward the emple in Mark. Tus, or example, D. Juel concluded that Mark introduced Jesus as
1
I Mac 13:4; 14:29; II Mac 2:17; m. Avot 1:2. 1:2. C. Against Apion 2.193–198. C. F. D. Moule, “Sanctuary and Sacri�ce in the Church o the New estament”, JS 1 (1950): 29–41; L. Gaston, No Stone on Another (Leiden: (Leiden: Brill, 1970) 4–5, 240– 243; R. J. McKelvey, Te New emple: Te Church in the New estament (Oxord: Oxord University Press 1969); G. Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qum (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971). rangemeinde und im N (Göttingen: 3 G. Teissen, “Die empelweissagung Jesu”, Teologische Zeitschrif 32 (1976): 144–158. M.J. Borg, Con�ict , Holiness & Politics in the eaching o Jesus (New York and oronto: E. Mellen, 1984), argued that Jesus attempted to replace the traditional sanctity system with spiritual holiness based on mercy and to open the emple cult to the gentiles. G. Teissen and A. Merz, Te Historical Jesus: A Comprehensive Guide (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996) 431–437, 528, argued that Jesus did not puriy himsel when he entered the emple, basing their argument on the silence o the gospels on that matter as well as third century C.E. Oxyrhynchus papyri 840 in which the high priest reproached Jesus or entering the emple without urther ablution. J. D. Crossan, Te Historical Jesus: A Lie o a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant , (New York: HarperCollins, 1991) 355, 360 argued that Jesus established an alternative that challenged the emple and consequently clashed with the high priestly leadership. 2
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a New emple (“not made with hands”) which substituted the old one.4 W. H. Kelber regarded the emple as “stands condemned o corruption by trade and politics,” and stressed Jesus’ “disquali�cation” o it, since “the Kingdom has been dissociated rom the Jerusalem emple.”5 R. G. Hamerton-Kelly concluded that or Mark “Jesus challenges the authority o the order o sacred violence represented by the emple, and Mark narrates the challenge in terms o the con�ict between Jesus and the religious, legal, and political representatives o sacred authority.” and that “the sacri�cial system is to be replaced by aith and prayer.”6 According to F. J. Moloney, Mark’s Jesus “brings to an end the commercial and cultic activities o the emple . . . he replaces Israel’s cult with a new approach to God . . .”7 H. C. Waetjen regarded Jesus’ “cleansing” o the emple as “abolition o the temple institution itsel,” and named the section discussing it “negation o the temple institution.”8 Nonetheless, the place o the emple as a religious institution as well as a symbol o worship in the New estament, and speci�cally in Mark, has not been thoroughly discussed. Tis article attempts to reexamine the attitude toward the emple and the role o the emple in Mark’s discourse. Trough his description o what Jesus said and did concerning the emple, Mark reveals his own views and those presumably shared by his readers. Being the earliest gospel, Mark includes some o the early traditions about Jesus; hence the ollowing discussion also concerns the historical Jesus, with all the necessary methodological constraints entailed by deducing evidence about Jesus rom Mark. Mark’s approach to the emple and the priestly cult will be analyzed according to our different categories: (1) Involvement: when Jesus and his disciples attend the emple or the emple Mount, as when taking part in the pilgrimage. (2) Analogy: using emple or sacri�cial imagery to portray concepts not related to the emple service, 4
D. Juel, Messiah and emple: Te rial o Jesus in the Gospel o Mark (Ph.D. dissertation, Yale University 1973; repr. Scholars Press, Atlanta: 1977) 127–215. 5 W. H. Kelber, Mark’s Story o Jesus (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), 61–62, 65. 6 R. G. Hamerton-Kelly, Te Gospel and the Sacred: Poetics o Violence in Mark (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994) 15–45 (here, 16, 19). 7 F. J. Moloney, Mark. Storyteller, Interpreter, Evangelist (Peabody (Peabody MA.: Hendrickson, 2004), 87; c. ibid .,., 88–96. 8 H. C. Waetjen, A Reordering o Power. A Socio-Political Reading o Mark’s Gospel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 179, 182. On p. 183 Waetjen described the emple as “oppression and dispossession o the Jewish masses” and “dehumanizing and tyrannical pollution system” without bringing any reerence or such biased claims.
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especially in the Last Supper. (3) Criticism o the emple cult or being �awed morally or otherwise. (4) Rejecting the emple cult altogether as unnecessary or irredeemable, even wishing its destruction. I maintain that only the orth category corresponds to the commonly held opinion that Jesus, the later Christians or Mark denied the signi�cance o the emple cult. Te three other categories actually acknowledge the emple cult as a major religious institute or concept, as the passages rom Mark will demonstrate. Te ollowing discussion begins with three major traditions which may characterize the historical Jesus and seem to support the view that Jesus opposed the emple, and then proceeds to other passages in Mark. O���������� ��� �����: �� “C��������” �� ��� ����� Shortly afer arriving in Jerusalem, Jesus caused a commotion at the emple. “He entered the emple (to ( to hieron) hieron) and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the emple, and he overturned the tables o the money-changers and the seats o those who sold doves; and he would not allow anyone carry anything through the emple.”9 Most scholars accept the authenticity o the passage. Mark did not reer to this act elsewhere or try to interpret it, thus it is probable that he did not invent this scene but used an existing tradition. Te incident is so extraordinary and puzzling that it is not likely to be �ction (this is indeed somewhat similar to what scholars o the historical Jesus call, the principal o ‘dissimilarity’).10 Te question remains what did Jesus mean by interering in the buying and selling o sacri�ces and overturning the tables o those who changed regular coins into the annual hal-shekel dues? While most scholars have regarded it as an act o resentment and criticism o the manner in which the emple was being run, they do not interpret it as re�ecting a sweeping resistance or rejection o the legitimacy o the sacri�cial cult. Quite the contrary, the more in�uential 9
Mark 11:15–16. All translations ollow the NRSV. A. Y. Collins, Mark (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 526–529. In interpreting the “cleansing”, I disregard the proofexts in Mark 11:17, since these probably derive rom Markan redaction. See, e.g ., E. P. Sanders, Jesus and Judaism, (London: SCM Press, 1985) 61–76, esp. 66–67; Collins, Mark, 526 (ollowing Bultmann). Tese verses are discussed below. 10
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interpretations o this scene argue or Jesus’ concern or the validity and sanctity o the emple: Jesus protested against commerce at the emple, namely the mixture o sacred and mundane,11 the politicization o the emple by the Herodian dynasty or the Romans,12 or the corruption o the high priesthood.13 Others regarded the “cleansing” as a symbolic act that did not re�ect what Jesus currently though about the emple, but what he prophesied would happen to the emple i the Jews did not repent. Namely, it was merely a symbolic demonstration that actually expressed concern or the uture existence o the emple.14 In my own view, Jesus was protesting not against the emple but against the donation or transmission o morally impure money (corrupted by the people’s sins) to the emple.15 Each o these interpretations indicates Jesus’ interest in the emple and an attempt to reinorce the sanctity o the cult. Nonetheless, the exact problem related to the emple that aroused Jesus’ indignation remains a puzzle. Mark’s own re�ection on this episode will be
11
Klausner, Jesus o Nazareth: His Lie, imes and eachings, trans. by H. Danby (Boston: Beacon Press, 1925), 313–316; Borg, Con�ict, Holiness and Politics, 175; D. Flusser, Jesus, (Jerusalem: 2001 3) 138–139; B. Chilton, Te emple o Jesus (University Park PN: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992) 100–159; A. Y. Collins, Jesus and the Jerusalem emple (International Rennert Guest Lectures Series 5; Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University and the Hebrew University o Jerusalem, 1999); idem, Mark, 528– 529; P. Richardson, “Why urn the ables? Jesus’ Protest in the emple Precincts,” SBL Seminar Papers 31 (1992): 507–23. E. Van Eck, Galilee and Jerusalem in Mark’s Story o Jesus: A Narratological and Social and Social Scienti�c Reading (Pretoria: University o Pretoria, 1995) 345–355 interpreted it as an act o bringing the kingdom o God to the emple. 12 H. D. Betz, “Jesus and the Purity o the emple (Mark 11:15–18) 11:15–18) A Comparative Religion Approach”, JBL 116 (1997): 455–472; J. Knight, Luke’s Gospel (London (London and New York: Routledge, 1998) 182–83; R. A. Horsley Jesus and the Spiral o Violence (New York: Harper & Row, 1987) 289–91, 298–317. 13 C. A. Evans, “Jesus’ Action in the emple: Cleansing or Portent o Destruction”, CBQ 51 (1989): 237–27; M. Hengel, Te Zealots (& Clark: Edinburgh, 1989) 216; S.G.F. Brandon, Jesus and the Zealots (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1967), 331–335. 14 Sanders, Jesus and Judaism 69–71; R. H. Hiers, “Puri�cation o the emple: Preparation or the Kingdom o God”, JBL 90 (1971): 82–90; D. G. Dunn, Te Parting o the Ways (London and Philadelphia: SCM and rinity, 1991) 47–49. N. . Wright, Jesus and the Victory o God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996) 413–428 regarded it as a dramatic symbol o the emple’s imminent destruction combined with social criticism (or the relatively positive appreciation o the emple cult, see ibid .,., 426 n. 222). 15 E. Regev, “Moral Impurity and the emple in Early Christianity in Light o Qumranic Ideology and Ancient Greek Practice” HR 79.4 (2005): 297–402.
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discussed below in the discussion o the proofexts which Mark attributed to Jesus in the course o the “cleansing.” “I W��� D������ ���� ����� . . . ��� �� ���� D��� I B���� A������” Mark mentioned twice a grave accusation that Jesus threatened to destroy the emple. During Jesus’ “trial” beore the high priest and his sunedrion, sunedrion, Jesus was accused o saying “I will destroy this emple (ton (ton naon, naon, namely, the hiekahl and and not the whole complex o the emple courts) that is made with hands, and in three days I build another, not made with hands” (Mark 14:58). Tis is an extremely odd saying. However, Mark presented it as an accusation made by alse witnesses (Mark 14:47, 59). However, it appears again in Mark’s narrative when certain Jews mocked the cruci�ed Jesus: “Aha! You who would destroy the emple and build it in three days; save yoursel and come down rom the cross!” (Mark 15:29–30). Jesus’ intention to destroy the emple is also mentioned in the accusation against Stephen, again, made by alse witnesses (Acts 6:14). Most surprisingly, it appears in the Gospel o Tomas, as well, when Jesus blatantly declared: “I will [destroy this] house, and no one will be able to build it [again].” 16 It is impossible to know whether Jesus actually said that he would destroy the emple and added that he would rebuild a emple “not made with hands.” On the one hand, there are multiple attestations to this extremely exceptional and provocative saying (Acts, Tomas and twice in Mark). Te uniqueness o the saying also supports its originality. While the anticipation or a utopian emple that would descend rom heaven is already attested to in the emple Scroll (29:9–10), no other Jew had ever threatened to destroy the emple, and certainly not to rebuild it by himsel.17 It seems improbable that a later source
16
ranslation ollows J. M. Robinson (ed.), Te Nag Hammadi Library in English, (revised edition Leiden: Brill, 1996) 134. Te weight o this evidence depends on whether one regards Tomas as preserving an earlier version o Jesus’ saying or merely a later reworking o the saying in the canonical gospels. C. e.g., C. ucket, “Q and Tomas: Evidence o a Primitive “Wisdom Gospel”?”, EL 67 (1991): 346–360 and bibliography. 17 Jesus son o Ananias and Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai only oresaw the coming destruction. See War 6.301–309; 6.301–309; b. Yoma 39b.
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would invent such a claim ex nihilio. nihilio. In addition, this threat could be consistent with Jesus’ violence in “cleansing” the emple. One the other hand, there is no sign elsewhere in Jesus’ sayings in the gospels that Jesus rejected the current emple or dreamt o a better one. In act, nowhere in the gospels (not even in John), is there an actual attack on the emple or endorsement o its destruction by the Romans. Mark claimed the charge that Jesus had said it was alse,18 Matthew (26:61) even toned down the charge, saying that the alse witness only claimed that Jesus had said “I am able to able to destroy the emple o God and to build it in three days.” Luke omitted it altogether rom the trial, and later denied it when it reappeared in the charges against Stephen. John (2:19–21), omitted it rom the trial and placed it in the context o the “cleansing” o the emple, transorming its meaning to a positive one and interpreting it as an analogy, “Jesus answered them: destroy this emple, and in three days I will raise it up . . . But he was speaking o the emple o his body.”19 Clearly, none o the evangelists could identiy with the straightorward assault on the emple, even afer it had already been destroyed! Is it possible that the historical Jesus, who undoubtedly was closer to Judaism than Mark, Luke and John, was more anti-emple than the our evangelists? I think that there are two solutions to the puzzle. Te �rst, and less plausible in my opinion, is that Jesus did say something about demolishing and rebuilding o the emple, perhaps due to a momentary loss o control during the “cleansing,” but this was probably less direct and radical than the words attributed to him. Te second solution which is more probable in my opinion is that Jesus’ adversaries interpreted the “cleansing” o the emple as a threat against the emple. Later ollowers like Tomas may have been in�uenced by this unavorable understanding o Jesus’ act. In any event, rom that moment, certain Jews regarded the Jewish-Christians as enemies o the emple. Severe criticism o the existing emple is de�nitely implied, i Jesus truly said what Mark denies that he said—his threat to destroy and
18
Juel, Messiah and emple 72–73 compared the trial with the mocking o Jesus on the cross and the tearing o the emple curtain, concluding that or Mark this saying “has some prophetic signi�cance . . . the emple charge c harge must be viewed as true in some sense” (c. also ibid .,., 123–125). For a bibliographic survey on scholars who think that Mark regarded the emple charge as true or alse, see ibid .,., 120–122. 19 John is thus reerring to Jesus’ resurrection three days afer his cruci�xion, hence John portrayed Jesus as analogous to the emple. See R. Brown, Te Gospel According (AB 29: New York: Doubleday 1966), 122–125. to Saint John I–XII (AB
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rebuild a emple “not made with hands.” Nonetheless, Jesus supported the concept o the emple i he wished to erect a better and more sacred one. He certainly did not mean to reject the idea the emple categorically, unless one accepts Tomas’ version (and one is then required to explain the invention o the second and more positive part o the saying by the evangelists). �� L��� S����� Mark describes the Passover seder (ritual meal) that Jesus attended with his disciples, just beore he was arrested. According to Mark, “While they were eating, he took a loa o bread, and afer blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, ‘ake; this is my body;’ Ten he took a cup, and afer giving thanks he gave it to them, and all o them drank rom it; He said to them, ‘Tis is my blood o the covenant, which is poured out or many” (Mark 14: 22–24). Te connection that Jesus made between the bread and wine o the seder and and his own body and blood is surprising. Jesus apparently portrayed himsel as a sacri�ce, which his disciples were to consume, an act that subsequently played a crucial role in the ormation o the Eucharist. Several scholars have concluded that Jesus actually replaced Jewish traditional sacri�ces with symbols related to his own body, transorming himsel into a sacri�ce o atonement.20 Tis would accord with the basic Pauline Christology o Jesus’ death as atonement or his believers (1 Cor 15:3; Rom 3:23–26). Over the years the Last Supper came to be reenacted as the Eucharist rite, a parallel or substitute or the sacri�cial cult;21 however, it is unreasonable to attribute this meaning to Jesus’ saying and actions. In Mark 14 Jesus does not reject the emple sacri�ces at all. On the contrary, while saying “this is my body,” he actually ate the Passover sacri�ce and distributed portions to his disciples, and it is simply
20
Teissen and Merz, Historical Jesus, 431–436; Hamerton-Kelly, Te Gospel and 44; G. Feeley-Harnik, Te Lord’s able: Te Meaning o Food in Early Judathe Sacred 44; (Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994) 113, 117, ism and Christianity (Washington 139. Chilton, emple o Jesus , 138–154, regarded Jesus’ words a reaction to his ailure to “puriy” (reorm) the emple. 21 1 Cor 10:16–18; 10:16–18; R.J. Daly, Christian Sacri�ce: Te Judeao-Christian Background Beore Origen (Washington D.C.; Catholic University o America Press, 1978) 221– 225, 491–508.
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impossible to consume the sacri�cial meat and reject the concept o sacri�ce at the same time. Mark 14:12–16 also describes Jesus’ preparations or the sacri�cial rite o the Passover seder . Te act that Mark introduced Jesus’ saying in the context o eating o the Passover sacri�ce indicates that Mark did not understand the “this is my blood/ body” saying as anti-sacri�cial.22 Recently, J. Klawans has pointed to the symbolic meaning o this saying.23 Klawans believes that Jesus’ saying indeed reerred to sacri�ce, but he disagrees with the view that Jesus (or Mark’s source) objected to animal sacri�ces at the emple or wished to substitute them with the Eucharist ritual. Klawans maintained that Jesus’ saying is a metaphor (combined with the symbolic act o handing the bread and wine to the disciples), and thereore should not be taken literally, as i the bread and wine replaced the meat and blood. Hence, Klawans commented that Jesus’ saying as well as the expanded commentary on its meaning in 1 Cor 10:14–21 use a ritual metaphor, creating an analogy between wine and blood or between bread and (human) �esh, without expressing any reservations whatsoever concerning the real sacri�ces. Use o a symbolic/metaphoric meaning does not detract rom the concept that is symbolized. Using sacri�cial language due to its efficacy and meaning, Paul (and I would add, also Jesus and Mark) hoped to appropriate some o that meaning and apply it to something else, thus demonstrating that sacri�ce was meaningul and symbolic. 24 By including the Last Supper in his gospel, using sacri�cial language and sacri�cial overtones, Mark acknowledged the efficacy o the sacri�ces. Te Last Supper should be understood not as a “spiritualization” or a critique o the emple cult, but as a conceptual appropriation o it, as a metaphor necessary to understand the relationship between Jesus and his disciples.
22
Teissen and Merz, Historical Jesus, 426–427 argued against the common view that the Last Supper was a Passover seder . Tey think that it is improbable that Jesus was arrested on the seder ’s ’s night. But even i Mark made a chronological error, his mistake only proves his own understanding o Jesus as ollowing the traditional sacri�cial laws and demonstrates Mark’s ailure to see a contradiction between eating the meat o the Passover and saying “this is my blood”. See also, Daly, Christian Sacri�ce, 206–207, 221–225. 23 J. Klawans, “Interpreting the Last Supper: Sacri�ce, Spiritualization, and AntiSacri�ce’ ” NS 48 (2002): 1–17. Klawans also discussed the authenticity o the Eucharist words and their different variations in the New estament. 24 Ibid .,., 11–13.
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“S��� Y������� �� ��� P������” When Jesus began healing people, a leper (lepros, lepros, suffering rom a skindisease), begging on his knees, implored him: “I you choose, you can make me clean.” Jesus “stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’; Immediately the leprosy lef him, and he was made clean; Afer sternly warning him he sent him away at once; saying to him, ‘See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yoursel to the priest, and offer or your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them” (Mark 1:40–44). Certain commentators believed that on this occasion Jesus took the place o the priest in a manner which subverted purity regulations, since Jesus was willing to de�le himsel by touching the afflicted person, and especially since he took the place o the priest. 25 However, by “making the leper clean”, Jesus did not take the place o the priest. Priests declared the afflicted person as de�led, and once he or she was cured the priests announced that they could be puri�ed ritually and ordered the healed person to bring a special puri�cation offering in the emple. Jesus’ healing act was as unnatural and subversive as any o his other miracles. However, by ordering the person to appear beore a priest and bring a sacri�ce, Jesus lef the �nal word o announcing the healed person pure to the priest. What is interesting here is that Mark, by mentioning Jesus’ reerence to the Mosaic commands, showed that Jesus did acknowledge the priestly purity system, priestly authority and the sacri�cial system. 26 He was concerned not only with the leper’s affliction, but also with his ritual status. “L��� �� ���� I�������� ���� S���������” In a conversation with Jesus regarding the question “which commandment is the �rst o all?” a certain scribe agreed with Jesus and replied: “to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength”, and “to love one’s neighbor as onesel ”—this is much more important than all whole burnt-offerings and sacri�ces”
25
C. Meyers, Binding the Strong Man. A Political Reading o Mark’s Story o Jesus (Maryknoll NY: Orbis, 1988) 152–154. 26 V. aylor, Te Gospel according to St. Mark (New York: St. Martin’s, 1963) 190.
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(Mark 12:32–34). Some have interpreted this passage as an indication that Mark opposed the sacri�cial cult.27 Tis view should be completely rejected. Te scribe did not invalidate sacri�ce altogether but merely said that the love o God and ellow humans is even more important than sacri�ces, a view ofen expressed by the prophets and common in ancient Judaism. Hosea 6:6 announced, “For I desire steadast love and not sacri�ce, the knowledge o God rather than burnt-offerings.” Te rabbis also subscribed to this prophetic saying.28 As or the priority o the commandment to love, Paul, Hillel the Elder, and Rabbi Aqiva all regarded it as the most undamental commandment, in which all other were included. 29 Furthermore, it is noteworthy that Mark placed the juxtaposition o the love commandment with sacri�ces in the mouth o the scribe (the archetype o Jesus’ religious opponents) rather than attributing it to Jesus, showing that Mark regarded this teaching as common knowledge not unique to Jesus, but consistent with his attitude. �� P��� W����’� O������� �� ��� ����� When Jesus sat near the emple treasury and saw the crowd, including many rich people, putting large sums o money into the treasury, he noted “a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny; Ten he called his disciples and said to them, ‘ruly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury; For all o them have contributed out o their abundance; but she out o her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (Mark 12:41–44). Te textual context o this saying is Jesus’ teachings in the emple (Mark 11:27; 12:35; 13:1). Its ideological context is Jesus’ avoring the poor and his criticism o wealth in general.30 Jesus simply pointed out that the true measure o gifs is not how much is given but rather
27
E.g., Juel, Messiah and emple 134. Avot de-Rabbi Nathan version a, ch. 4 (ed. Schechter, p. 18), version b, ch. 9 (p. 22); Midrash Psalms to Ps 9 (ed. Buber, p. 80) and Ps 89 (p. 381). 29 Gal 5:14; Sira Qedoshim 4.12 (ed. Weiss 89b); b. Shabbat 31a; Avot de-Rabbi b , 26 (ed. Shecther, p. 53). Nathan version b, 30 C. D. L. Mealand, Poverty and Expectation in the Gospels (London: SPCK, 1981). 28
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how much remains behind, and also implies the duty o giving alms.31 Moreover, in the context o our discussion, it also implies that donating to the emple is a noble cause, and that a poor widow who saves a dime or the emple treasury is pious and sincere. Te emple itsel is viewed indirectly as a sacred place. Given that interpretation, Jesus’ overturning o the tables at the emple seems more puzzling. I donating to the emple is a good thing, what exactly did Jesus mean by interering in acts relating to transerring money to the emple? Are there good donations and bad donors? I the saying is considered authentic,32 Jesus’ attitude toward the emple was rather complex, certainly not straightorwardly critical. �� ������ �� ��� �����’� C������ When the cruci�ed Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last breath “the curtain o the emple (katapeasma (katapeasma tou naou, naou, namely, the parochet ) was torn in two, rom top to bottom” (Mark 15:37–38). Mark undoubtedly regarded this as a symbolic occasion re�ecting the meaning o Jesus’ death. Many interpreted the tearing o the curtain as implying the destruction o the emple, namely, that the death o Jesus oretold the end o the emple. 33 Tis anti-emple interpretation is �rst attested to in the second century C.E. Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions, Recognitions, which includes a harsh polemic against sacri�ces at the emple.34 However, several scholars have pointed to parallels between the tearing o the emple curtain and the sundering o heaven when Jesus
31
Tis common understanding among the commentators is surveyed and challenged by A. G. Wright, “Te Widow’s Mites: Praise or Lament?—Matter o Context,” CBQ 44.2 (1982): 256–265, who argued that Jesus was opposed to the widow remaining penniless because o the social norm o donating to the emple. 32 McKelvey, New emple, 72–73; C. A. Evans, Mark 8:28–16:20 (WBC 34B; Waco: Word Books, 2001) 509. 33 Hamerton-Kelly, Te Gospel and the Sacred 56–57; Juel, Messiah and emple 138–142. C. the survey o scholarship in Collins, Mark, 759–764. 34 Recognitions 1.41.3 (the tearing o the emple veil as a sign or the upcoming destruction). C. ibid .,., 39 and 54.1, where the author argues or the cessation o sacri�cial cult. See also F. S. Jones, An Ancient Jewish Christian Source, Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71 (Atlanta: Society or Biblical Literature, 1995) 130, 136. 147–149, 156–160.
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was baptized by John (Mark 1:10).35 Furthermore, according to Josephus, the emple’s inner curtain, which most scholars believe is being reerred to, was blue scarlet and purple, representing the universe and portraying a panorama o the entire heavens. Tus, Mark probably did indeed intend to imply a correspondence between heaven and the emple curtain, and the tearing o the ormer at the start o Jesus’ career and o the latter at its end. 36 Consequently, i the tearing o the curtain corresponds to the tearing o heaven, it can hardly be viewed as symbolizing the destruction o the emple. More likely it re�ects a cosmic reaction to Jesus’ death, actually attesting to an appreciation o the emple as a divine institution. Indeed, there is a rabbinic saying in similar spirit: “I a man divorces his �rst wie, even the altar sheds tears.”37 In act, since in Judaism the emple, the heikhal (naos) naos) and the altar re�ect the relationship between God and His people, 38 portraying the emple’s response makes sense. It is also possible to regard the tearing o the curtain as a sign o grie, since tearing one’s clothes is a customary Jewish ritual o mourning.39 “N� S���� �� A������” ��� ��� D��������� S�������� �� M��� 13 “As he came out o the emple, one o his disciples said to him, ‘Look, eacher, what large stones and what large buildings! Ten Jesus asked him, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be lef here upon another; all will be thrown down” (Mark 13:1–2). Tis passage in which Jesus oresaw the destruction o 70 C.E. has been regarded as proo o Jesus’ (or Mark’s) rejection o the emple and an indication
35
S. Motyer, “Te Rending o the Veil: A Markan Pentecost,” NS 33 (1987): 155–57; D. Ulansey, “Te Heavenly Veil orn: Mark’s Cosmic ‘Inclusio,’ ” JBL 110 (1991): 23–25 and bibliography. One o several additional points o parallelism is that in both scenes Jesus is declared (either by the Spirit or by the Roman centurion) as the Son o God. 36 Ulansey, “Te Heavenly Veil.” C. War 5.212–214. 5.212–214. 37 B. Gittin 90b and parallels. C. Mal 2:13–14. 38 J. Milgrom, “Israel’s Sanctuary: Te Priestly ‘Picture o Dorian Gray,’” RB 83 (1976): 390–399, reprinted in idem, Studies in Cultic Teology and erminology (SJLA 36, Leiden: Brill, 1983) 75–84. Compare also the cries o the emple’s court in reaction to the evil deeds o some priests (b. Pesah ̣ ̣im im 57a). 39 Gen 37:34; b. Baba Metsiah 59b.
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that he looked orward to its destruction. 40 Te ollowing verses (13:5–13), however, indicate that Jesus reerred to the destruction o the entire city o Jerusalem and the dire ate o his ollowers: wars, earthquakes and persecutions, with no particular stress on the emple. It seems that or Mark, the destruction o Jerusalem is an appropriate punishment or sins,41 but this does not necessarily re�ect a particular attitude toward the emple and sacri�ces. In the ollowing passage, Jesus warns the disciples: “But when you see the desolating sacrilege set up where it ought not to be (let the reader understand), then those in Judea must �ee to the mountains” (Mark 13:14). Jesus then related in detail to the horror o those uture days and reerred to alse messiahs and alse prophets who would try to deceive his ollowers (13:15–23). Only afer that horrible period will the Son o Man come and gather the chosen ones (13:24–27). Previous approaches regarded this passage as an anti-emple prophecy,42 ignoring the realistic character o the persecutions mentioned afer it, which imply that Mark had actual events in mind. Furthermore, the context o the desolating sacrilege (c. Dan 9:27; 11:32; 12:11; 1 Macc 1:54) is not a criticism or rejection o the emple cult, but rather a broader description o a catastrophe, or which the desolating sacrilege is (quite obscurely) a symbol or a catalyst.43 Others interpreted the desolating sacrilege as reerring to the pagan Roman temple erected on the emple Mount afer 70 C.E.44 However, that temple is documented only in the days o Hadrian, 60 years later, whereas Mark mentioned the desolating sacrilege prior to the catastrophes o the persecution and �eeing o believers rom Jerusalem, and thereore his words seem to predate it (corresponding to the events o the Great Revolt, see below).
40
Evans, Mark 8:28–16:20, 299–300; Waetjen, A Reordering o Power , 196–197; W. D. Davies, Te Gospel and the Land: Early Christianity and Jewish erritorial Doctrine (Berkeley , Los Angeles and London: University o Caliornia Press, 1974) 258. 41 Gaston, No Stone, 11–12, 479. Note that Matt. 23:1 and Luke 21:5–6 (c. Matt. 23:38; Luke 13:35) elt it necessary to add explicit reerence to the emple to Mark’s version o the destruction o Jerusalem (but, o course, Matthew and Luke already knew that emple had been destroyed and looked or a justi�cation or this disaster). 42 E.g., Evans, Mark 8:28–16:20, 318–320. 43 Collins, Mark, 608–609. 44 G. Tiessen, Lokalkolorit und Zeitgeschichte in den Evangelien: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Synoptischen radition (Frieburg: Universität Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1989) 275–277; c. Collins, Mark, 610.
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J. Marcus interpreted this apocalyptic passage as reerring to the events o the Great Revolt o 66–70 C.E., and especially the Zealots’ takeover o the emple in 68 C.E. Marcus suggested that the desolating sacrilege reers to the Zealots’ acts in the emple. 45 Te Zealots probably also held certain belies about the imminent advent o the messiah, which may have nourished Mark’s warnings against alse messiahs. Te early Christians at the time o Mark (composed o both Jews and gentiles) probably objected to the national claims o the Zealots. Indeed, according to Josephus, the Zealots acted violently and viciously against their opponents, de�led the emple, and used some o the sacred articles o the emple or their own (non-sacred) bene�t, thereby desecrating the emple.46 �� ����� �� A D�� �� R������ J. Marcus also suggested that the accusation that the emple had become a den o robbers (ollowing Jer 7:11), which Mark attributed to Jesus in the scene o the “cleansing” o the emple, is also a reaction to the Zealots’ acts at the emple. According to Mark 11:17, Jesus then said: “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house o prayer or all the nations (Isa 56:7)’? But you have made it a den o robbers (lēstōn (lēstōn).” ).” Since lestos lestos was the Romans’ derogatory name or the Zealots, Marcus argues that this interpretation corresponds to Jesus’ opposite claim (according to Mark), namely that everyone may enter the emple, while the Zealots restricted entrance to the emple and transormed it into a nationalistic, anti-Roman stronghold, reusing to accept sacri�ces rom gentiles.47
45
J. Marcus, “Te Jewish War and the Sitz im Leben o Mark”, JBL 103 (1992): 441–462, esp. 446–448. For additional studies that identi�ed the background o Mark 13 in the events circa 70 CE, see: H. C. Kee, Community o the New Age. Studies in Mark’s Gospel , (repr. edition; Macon GA.; Mercer University Press, 1983) 100–101; Moloney, Mark, 92 and the bibliography in 116–117 nn. 34–35. 46 For the Zealots’ acts in the emple, see: War 2.17.5. 2.17.5. 423; 4.3.12. 201; 4.4.3. 241– 242; 4.4.4. 262; 5.9.4. 402; Hengel, Te Zealots, 183–186. For the messianic belies related to Menahem the Sicarii and Simon bar Giora, see Markus, “Sitz im Leben o Mark,” 458 and bibliography. 47 Markus, “Sitz im Leben o Mark,” 449–452 and bibliography. Tere are, o course, other interpretations which ollow the anti-emple direction. Juel, Messiah and emple 131–134, or example, regarded the “den o robbers” saying as implying the destruction o the emple, since this was the original context o Jer 7:11.
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Given this historical interpretation o Mark, the evangelist was undoubtedly critical o the emple, but only regarding the Zealots’ conduct there during the Great Revolt. In a sense, Mark was not dierent rom the anti-Zealot coalition, which included both Sadducees and Pharisees. Te high priest Annaus son o Annaus, or example, led the opposition to the Zealots afer their takeover o the emple in the winter o 68 C.E. Josephus portrayed Annaus as the deender o the emple and cites his long speech (War ( War 4.162–192), in which the main theme is his call to save the emple rom the hands o the Zealots. Annuas reerred to the de�lement o the sanctuary by the Zealots and contrasted their behavior with the Romans’ respect and votive donations to the Jewish cult. He lamented the abominations at the emple, since its unapproachable and hallowed places were crowded with murderers.48 J����’ V����� �� ��� ����� Mark mentions that on several occasions Jesus visited and taught at the emple. As soon as Jesus reached Jerusalem, he entered the emple and looked around (Mark 11:11). Jesus visited the emple again in the amous “cleansing,” (Mark 11:15) afer which he lef the city, but he returned to the emple shortly aferward (Mark 11:27) and deended his authority as a sage against the scribes and elders (11:27–28). Jesus taught at the emple once again about the relationship between the Davidic descent o the Messiah and his being the Son o God, criticized the scribes’ social behavior, and praised the poor widow’s donation to the emple treasury (12:35–44). Finally, when he was stunned, afer being arrested by the chie priests, the scribes, and the elders, he said, “Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a bandit (lēstēn (lēstēn)? )? Day afer day I was with you in the emple teaching, and you did not arrest me” (Mark 14:48–49). In this passage, Mark probably tried to stress that Jesus did not pose any threat to the emple authorities. All these instances relate to the category o involvement with the emple. emple. Jesus, according to Mark, was very much interested in the emple. Most o Jesus’ acts and teachings in Jerusalem took place in 48
4.163; c. ibid .,., 171, 172, 181. See E. Regev, “Josephus, the emple, and the War 4.163; Jewish War,” in J. Pastor, P. Stern and M. Mor (eds.), Flavius Josephus: Interpretation and History , Brill (in press).
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the emple, and all but the “cleansing” were not at all critical o the emple. Indeed, one, the poor widow’s donation, was actually positive. Although he had several opportunities to do so, Mark’s Jesus did not oppose the high priest or the sacri�cial system, apart rom the cryptic act o “cleansing” which according to many interpreters was only critical o certain aspects o the emple cult. On several occasions in his narrative, Mark could easily have attributed direct criticism o the emple cult to Jesus, but he did not do so. He even denied that Jesus had threatened to destroy the emple and rebuild a better one. M���, ��� ����� ��� J������ Te aorementioned evidence shows that there is no proo whatsoever that either Jesus or Mark completely rejected the emple. 49 Patterns o criticism are ound in Jesus’ act a ct o “cleansing” the emple, in the reerence to the destruction o the emple and its rebuilding o “not made with hands” (i authentic at all, which Mark, in any event, denies), and in reerring to the emple as “the desolating sacrilege”, which may re�ect widespread Jewish opposition to the Zealots and not a critical attitude unique to the early Christians. Tis criticism has two different aspects. Te �rst, the “cleansing” and the saying about the destruction and rebuilding o the emple (which may have been merely a polemical charge against Jesus) re�ects the historical Jesus. It is general, vague, and has received different interpretations. Perhaps Mark did not accept it at all, since he did not develop these scenes into conclusive charges against the emple. Te second aspect concerns Mark’s own reaction to the emple o his day. Here too the criticism is quite unclear and I have ollowed J. Marcus in regarding it as pointing to the Zealots’ desecration o the emple. Especially revealing are both the use o analogies and emple symbolism in the Last Supper and the saying about the poor widow’s donation to the emple. Equally signi�cant is Mark’s tendency to place Jesus in the emple time and time again without criticizing the sacri�cial cult. Also noteworthy is Jesus’ acknowledgment o the priestly system o ritual purity, when he ordered the healed and pure leper to show himsel to the priest.
49
Similar conclusion has been recently drawn by Collins, Mark, 761–762.
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Mark’s approach to the emple may be thereore characterized as positive but somewhat critical. He most ofen reerred to the emple uncritically, which is rather surprising given the scholarly consensus that Mark rejected Judaism and mainly addressed the gentile Christians. In act, other important eatures in Mark attest to his closeness to Judaism. Mark used Scripture quite requently and on several occasions created exegesis linking two different biblical verses. Mark certainly had a good knowledge o the Hebrew Bible and considered Scripture the basis o the Christian belie.50 Mark included several incidents in which Jesus conronts the Pharisees and scribes regarding the law (Jewish Halakhah). Many have regarded these incidents as proo that neither Mark nor Jesus was concerned with Jewish law. Recent studies, however, have examined these passages in detail and concluded that Mark did not reject the law altogether, but argued or speci�c exceptions rom traditional Halakhah, which are related to the belie in Jesus.51 E. P. Sanders, or example concluded “nothing Jesus said or did which bore on the law led his disciples afer his death to disregard it.”52 Mark did not reject or conront the basics o Jewish religion, but modi�ed it in several essential respects. Te belie in Jesus as a cruci�ed Messiah and the inclusion o gentile believers in the Christian
50
J. Marcus, Te Way o the Lord (Louisville: (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1992). C. e.g., Mark 1:2–3; 12:36; 14:24, 27, 62. 51 E. P. Sanders, “Te Synoptic Jesus and the Law,” Jewish Law rom Jesus to the Mishnah (London/Philadelphia: SCM Press/rinity, 1990), 1–96; Sanders, Jesus and Judaism 245–269; W. Loader, Jesus’ Attitude owards the Law (übingen, MoehrSiebeck, 1997), 9–135. Even Mark’s most negative treatment o the law, “thus he declared all oods pure” (7:19c, which is usually compared with Rom 14:14, which may not reject purity laws entirely, at least not in Jewish eyes) is in act almost entirely in accordance with rabbinic Halakhah. Te rabbis maintained that according to Scripture, impure ood cannot de�le one who eats it, with the exception o the carcass o a clean (i.e., kosher) bird. See Menahem Kister, “Law, Morality, and Rhetoric in Some Sayings o Jesus,” in Studies in Ancient Midrash (ed. James L. Kugel; Harvard University Center or Jewish Studies: Cambridge, 2001) 151–54. As Kister pointed out, non-kosher ood de�les by touching, not by eating per se, but the rabbis decided on a non-Biblical decree that declares eating impure (but kosher) ood de�ling. According to Y. Furstenberg, “De�lement Penetrating the Body: A New Understanding o Contamination in Mark 7.15,” NS 54.2 (2008): 176–200, Jesus’ rejection o hand washing does entail a denial o the Jewish purity system but rather a speci�c (pharisaic and innovative) conception o ritual purity. 52 Jesus and Judaism, 268.
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community 53 were his main departures rom mainstream Judaism. Mark’s attitude toward the emple does not seem to be among these modi�cations. In act, scholars have already recognized that Mark and Luke represent a mixture o Jewish and non-Jewish Christianity. Te non-Jewish aspects do not necessarily indicate a rejection o the Jewish ones.54 �� E����-C�������� A������� ������ ��� �����: G������ C������� I have tried to show that an examination o each o Mark’s treatments o the emple points only to a somewhat critical (yet quite vague) attitude towards the emple and a totally positive attitude toward the general concept o the emple and the sacri�cial system. I believe that my perspective is unbiased and based solely on textual evidence. Te act that many others have regarded Jesus’ and Marks’ approach as critical o the emple, or even entirely opposed to the very idea o the sacri�cial cult probably derives rom certain theological presuppositions. It seems to me that these scholars read Mark with the Epistle to the Hebrews in mind. Tey also presupposed that the Pauline idea o Jesus as Christ, the ultimate atoning sacri�ce, necessarily leads to a complete rejection o the emple in Jerusalem.55 A good example o such an interpretive process is D. Juel’s thesis that the “cleansing” o the emple, the tearing o the emple curtain,
53
For Mark’s positive reerences to the gentiles and gentile territories, territories, see Markus, “Sitz im Leben o Mark,” 453. 54 R. E. Brown, “Not Jewish Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity but ypes o Jewish/Gentile Christianity,” CBQ 45 (1983): 74–79; H. C. Kee, Community o the New Age. Studies in Mark’s Gospel , (repr. edition; Macon GA.; Mercer University Press, 1983); P. F. Esler, Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni versity Press), esp. 30–45. 55 C. W. Manson, Te Epistle to the Hebrews (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1951) 187–192. An example o such a biased reading o Mark with anti-emple presupposition is Hamerton-Kelly, Te Gospel and the Sacred 17–18, 17–18, who interprets the “cleansing” o the emple in the light o Jesus’ cursing o the �g tree (Mark 11:12–14) as i the dry �g tree represented the destroyed emple (Juel, Messiah and emple 130–131 used the same method to draw a much more moderate conclusion, namely, the rejection o the emple leadership or establishment). Te problem with basing a grand theory on such a contextual reading is that: (a) there are other interpretations o the cursing o the �g tree (e.g., the sel-belie in one’s prayer or wishes, as Jesus explains in Mark 11:22–24); (b) such an interpretation contradicts more positive treatments o the emple in Mark and in any case is never explicit in Mark.
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and the saying that alse witnesses attributed to Jesus at the “trial” all point to a rejection o the emple and its replacement by Jesus. Characteristically, Juel interpreted the alleged saying “and in three days I build another [emple], not made with hands” both as implying Jesus’ resurrection and vindication three days afer the cruci�xion as well as that the new emple not made with hands is the Christian community.56 Juel’s thesis is �awed with an over interpretation o the text. Te “new emple not made with hands” cannot imply both the resurrected Christ and the Christian community. Te latter can hardly be associated with the resurrection afer three days. Like many o his predecessors, Juel used two different early Christian notions that are not attested to in Mark: Jesus’ saying in John “destroy this emple, and in three days I will raise it up . . . speaking o the emple o his body . . . afer he was raised rom the dead . . .” (John 2:19–22) and the Pauline imagery o the community as a emple (see below). How can a reader o Mark grasp such a dual and complex symbolic meaning, while neither symbol appears elsewhere in Mark?! Furthermore, the credibility o the saying itsel is denied by Mark and is introduced as a harsh attempt to convict the innocent Jesus. 57 Te interpretation o other passages is conscripted by Juel, without justi�cation, to support the view that or Mark, Jesus took the place o the sacri�cial cult. Te act is, however, that such a claim is made explicitly only in Hebrews (e.g., 7:11–12, 18–19) and is implied in Revelation (21:22). But these texts are usually regarded among the latest within the New estament. Tere is no explicit mention o this approach in the synoptic gospels or in Paul, and I think this lack is signi�cant. In a previous study I examined all the major reerences to the emple and sacri�ces in the New estament and concluded that the historical Jesus, Q, the Jerusalem community re�ected in Acts, as well as Mark, Matthew and Luke took quite a positive approach and regarded the emple as an important concept. Even when these sources criticized the emple cult (and they did so quite rarely), they did not reject it altogether.58 In Luke-Acts the emple has a central place, and although
56
Messiah and emple 127–157. For similar criticism, see E. Liennemann, Studien zur Passiongeschicte (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1970) 118–124. 58 E. Regev “A Kingdom o Priests or a Holy (Gentile) People: Te emple in Early Christian Lie and Tought”, Cathedra 113 (2004): 5–34 (Hebrew). See also, idem, 57
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Peter, Stephen and Paul were arrested and persecuted p ersecuted due to actions or saying related to the emple, Luke did not condemn the high priests but rather stressed Paul’s appreciation to the emple cult. 59 Paul quite requently used the analogy o the emple to portray the holiness o the (gentile) Christian community, portrayed the believers as sacri�ces, or created an analogy between himsel and the emple priests. In none o these passages or elsewhere in his epistles did Paul reject the concept o the emple cult in Judaism. Like Jesus’ words at the Last Supper, these emple analogies imply the constructive view o the emple as a symbol o holiness and religious devotion. 60 Similarly, A. Hogeterp has recently concluded that the idea o ‘spiritualization’ o the cult in Paul’s letters is unounded. Te emphatic sel-de�nition o the community as emple is inclusive rather than substitutionary and does not necessarily entail replacing the Jerusalem emple. 61 Recently, the treatment o the emple in the Fourth gospel was reevaluated, concluding that John also did not reject the idea o the emple even afer its destruction.62 Negation o the emple as a necessary institution and idea is ound only Hebrews and Revelation, and is urther enhanced in second century sources such as Barnabas, the Pseude-Clementines, and Jusin’s Dialogues. Dialogues. I have suggested that this interest in deconstructing the emple symbolism afer its destruction indicates that many (Jewish?) Christians still regarded the emple as a major concept and symbol, a view that the authors o Hebrews etc. aimed to oppose. In a sense, these later, entirely negative approaches to the emple were not
“emple and Righteousness in Qumran and Early Christianity: racing the Social Dierences between the wo Movements”, in Daniel R. Schwartz and Ruth A. Clements (eds.), ext, Tought, and Practice in Qumran and Early Christianity. Proceedings o the Ninth International Symposium o the Orion Center or the Study o the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, January 11–13, 2004 (SDJ 84; Leiden: Brill 2009), 87–112. 59 E. Regev, “emple Concerns and High Priestly Persecutions rom Peter to James: Between Narrative and History,” NS 56.1 (2010): 64–89. 60 Rom 12:1; 15:16; 1 Cor 3:16; 6:12–19; 6:12–19; 9:13; 2 Cor 2:13–15; 6:14–7:1; Philp. 2:17; Regev ,”A Kingdom o Priests,” 14–20. 61 A. L. A. Hogeterp, Paul and God’s emple (Leuven: Peeters, 2006), 278–385. 62 J. Lieu, “emple and Synagogue in John,” NS 45 (1999): 51–69; Kåre S. Fuglseth, Johannine Sectarianism in Perspective: A Sociological, Historical, and Comparative Analysis o emple and Social Relationships in the Gospel o John, Philo, and Qumran (Sup. N 119; Leiden: Brill, 2005).
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directed against the Jews, but were meant to excise the emple rom the hearts o ellow Christians.63 Tis said, I think that we should continue asking not whether Mark or similar texts avored or opposed the emple, but how the idea o the emple was adapted to the early Christian religious system.
63
Regev, “A Kingdom o Priests,” 32–34.
PAGANISM AND ORIGINS OF CHRISIANIY
QUELQUES RÉFLEXIONS HISORIQUES SUR LES ORIGINES PAÏENNES PRÉSUMÉES DU CHRISIANISME PRIMIIF Emmanuel Friedheim « Quand le con�it des deux religions ne laissa plus de doute sur l’issue, on put se demander le bilan de la déaite du paganisme et le butin qui ut prélevé par le christianisme. Il est intéressant de savoir que tel ou tel temple ut saccagé et tel autre épargné pour être adapté au culte chrétien . . . il aut avouer qu’il importe plus de savoir ce qui ut détruit, conservé ou transormé dans les esprits, dans les consciences et dans les cœurs. Étude délicate où la conusion est acile et la passion trop souvent visible parce qu’on s’évertue à aire du christianisme l’héritier du paganisme érigeant les saints en successeurs des dieux. » (H. Leclercq, ‘Paganisme’, DACL, XIII/I, Paris 1937, 367)
I Une analyse des textes patristiques et canoniques des premiers siècles de l’ère vulgaire, semble montrer que les religions païennes 1 ont marqué indélébilement la religion chrétienne en plein développement. Les in�uences sont notoires tant dans le domaine du rituel, notamment celui des processions cultuelles et des êtes religieuses, que dans celui de l’art �gurati chrétien. En parcourant les régions rurales européennes, Dans cet article nous erons indistinctement indistinctement usage des différents vocables « païen » ou « polythéiste » en dépit de la problématique que l’emploi de ces termes pourrait engendrer historiquement. On retiendra à ce titre les propos judicieux de M. Sartre, d’Alexandre à Zénobie – Histoire du levant antique, antique , Paris 2001, 887 : « S’il paraît nécessaire de rappeler que les païens ne sont qu’une invention des chrétiens, il n’en reste pas moins qu’il est commode de regrouper sous ce terme tous ceux qui s’adonnent au polythéisme, ou qui, du moins, en acceptent les règles même lorsqu’ils vénèrent eux-mêmes un dieu privilégié, ethnique ou amilial ». Quant au problème de dé�nition propre à l’utilisation du terme « chrétien » pour les premiers adeptes de la nouvelle religion, c. P. ownsend, “‘Who Were the First Christians’ ? – Jews, Gentiles and the Christianoi”, Christianoi”, in : E. Iricinschi & H. M. Zellentin (eds.), Heresy and Identity in Late Antiquity , übingen 2008, 212–230. 1
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il est de nos jours commun de découvrir, à même la croisée des chemins ou au détour d’un pont, une imposante croix, destinée à prémunir les voyageurs d’une quelconque inortune. Or, cette réalité n’est pas d’origine chrétienne puisque du temps de l’empire romain polythéiste, c’est la statue du dieu Mercure en pays latin ou celle d’Hermès en terre hellénophone, qui – située également aux croisements des routes – assurait la protection des itinérants. Au lieu de aire le signe de croix accompagné d’une prière, les païens déposaient au pied de la statue une offrande animale ou agraire pour s’assurer de la protection du dieu ou bien, suivant une coutume millénaire, lui lançaient une pierre, demandant par ce geste à la divinité de leur être secourable. 2 L’Égypte, réputée pour la célèbre résistance qu’elle opposa au christianisme, 3 abonde de cas illustrant notre propos. On se contentera ici, à titre d’exemple, de rapporter les diverses représentations statu�ées de la déesse égyptienne Isis allaitant son �ls Horus-Harpocrate, un modèle iconographique connu sous le nom latin d’Isis d’Isis Lactans. Lactans. Celui-ci ne disparaîtra nullement en Égypte à l’époque byzantine, où l’on y rencontre le moti de la Vierge Marie allaitant à son tour Jésus, appelée dorénavant : Maria Lactans. Lactans.4 Autrement exprimé, en dépit de la lutte implacable engagée par les Pères de l’Église contre le paganisme 5 et malgré les affirmations impériales de triomphalisme prématuré aux W. Otto, Les dieux de la Grèce : La �gure du divin au miroir de l’esprit grec, grec , Paris 3 1993 , 137–138. 3 R. Rémodon, ‘L’Égypte et la suprême résistance au Christianisme’, Bulletin de l’institut rançais d’archéologie orientale 51 (1952), 63–78. Sur la destruction du grand sanctuaire de Sérapis à Alexandrie en l’an 391/392, c. P. Chuvin, Chronique des derniers païens – la disparition du paganisme dans l’empire romain du règne de Constantin à celui de Justinien, Justinien,2 Paris 1991, 70–74. 4 Sur Isis Lactans, Lactans, voir les travaux de V. ran am inh, Isis Lactans – Corpus des monuments gréco-romains d’Isis allaitant Harpocrate, Harpocrate, EPRO 37, Leiden 1973 ; Idem, ‘De nouveau Isis Lactans’, in : Hommages à M. J. Vermaseren, Vermaseren , III, EPRO 68, Leiden 1978, 1231–1268. Sur la notion de Maria Lactans, Lactans, voir également : F. Dunand, Isis – Mère des dieux , Paris 2000, 159–167, notamment dans un chapitre intitulé : « D’Isis à la Vierge Marie » ; Ibid., Ibid., 165 : « Les plus anciennes représentations du Christ utilisent des « modèles » païens, comme la �gure d’Orphée . . . Pour représenter la mère de Dieu, il allait aussi des modèles. Or, à l’époque où s’élabore ce qu’on a appelé « le premier art chrétien », le type d’Isis allaitant, diffusé partout, était susceptible de ournir ce modèle . . . ». Et al. 5 C. notamment les ouvrages de ertullien de Carthage (II ème siècle), De Idololatria (trans. J. H. Wasczink & J. C. van Winden, Leiden 1987), ainsi que le De Errore Proanarum Religionum (trad. R. urcan, Les belles-lettres, Paris 1982 ) de Firmicus Maternus (IVème siècle), ou encore la critique acerbe du paganisme à travers le De civitate dei contra paganos (trans. W. M. Green, Loeb Classical Library ) d’Augustin d’Hippone (IVème siècle). Et al. 2
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Vème et VIème siècles, évoquant la pseudo-victoire du christianisme sur le polythéisme, 6 orce est de constater que les croyances c royances païennes urent extrêmement tenaces parmi ces populations chrétiennes d’origine païenne,7 et qu’à déaut de les éliminer, 8 les ches de l’Église décidèrent, parois pour les dé�er, mais le plus souvent malgré eux, de les christianiser par absorption.9 C’est, du reste à juste titre, que Ramsay
Voir par exemple : Codex Teodosianus, Teodosianus, 16, 10, 22 : « des réglements [. . .] supprimeront tous les païens qui survivent, bien que Nous croyions qu’il n’en subsiste aucun » ; Téodoret, Térapeutique des maladies helléniques, helléniques, 8, 68 : « leurs temples [des païens] ont été si complètement détruits qu’on ne peut même plus se aire une idée de leur plan, et que les hommes d’aujourd’hui ne savent plus la orme de leurs autels » Voir également Augustin qui parle de « mortuus est paganus », dans son Enarr. in Ps., Ps., 149, 13, rapporté et commenté par : Y. Tébert, ‘A propos du « triomphe du christianisme »’, Dialogues d’histoire ancienne 14 (1988), 283. 7 On se contentera ici de signaler quelques éléments additionnels, de loin non exhaustis, mais néanmoins révélateurs de la vivacité et de la persistance de coutumes et croyances païennes parmi les chrétiens, tant en occident qu’en terres d’orient. On êta à Rome les Brumalia vraisemblablement Brumalia vraisemblablement jusqu’en 743 et peut-être encore ailleurs ème jusqu’au X siècle, c. J. R. Craword, ‘De Bruma et Brumalibus estis’, Byzantinische Zeitschrif 23 (1920), 367 ; 370–83. Le concile de Clichy en 626–627 évoque encore la commémoration des Calendes de Janvier, c. E. J. Jonkers, ‘Die Konzile und einige Formen alten Volksglaubens im ünfen und sechsten Jahrhundert’, Vigiliae Christianae 22 (1968), 52ff. Les êtes syriennes du Maïoumas, en l’honneur de Dionysos et d’Aphrodite, sont encore pratiquées en l’an 770 à Constantinople, c. O. Pasquato, Gli spectacoli in S. Giovanni crisostomo. Paganesimo ad Antiochia e Constantinopoli Roueché, Aphrodisias in Late Antiquity – Te Late nel IVsecolo, IVsecolo, Rome 1976, 268 ; Ch. Roueché, Aphrodisias Roman and Byzantine Inscriptions, Inscriptions, London 1989, 72. À Gaza, le gouverneur militaire local participe encore aux estivités païennes accomplies en 532/3, c. I. Rochow, ‘Zu « heidnischen » Brauchen bei der Bevölkerung des byzantinischen Reiches im 7. Jahrhundert, vor allem au Grund der Bestimmungen des rullanum’, Klio 60 (1978), 488 ; F. K. Litsas, ‘Choricius o Gaza and his Description o Festivals at Gaza’, Jahrbuch des Österreichen Byzantinistik 32 (1982), 429 ; E. Bolognesi Recchi Franceschini, ‘Winter in the Great Palace : Te Persistence o Pagan Festivals in Christian Byzantium’, Byzantinische Forschungen 21 (1995), 129 ; Y. Dan, Studies in the History o Palestine in the Roman-Byzantine Period , Jerusalem 2006, 27. (Hébreu) Et al. 8 Certains rites religieux romains officiels urent parois pourchassés pour �nalement disparaître quasi-totalement, ainsi par exemple l’institution officielle des haruspices ainsi que la pratique divinatoire parmi les populations provinciales, c. M. L. Haack, Les haruspices dans le monde romain, romain, Ausonius, Scripta Antiqua 6, Paris – Bordeaux 2003, 221. 9 On ne peut plus accepter aujourd’hui la position déendue par plusieurs historiens chrétiens niant une quelconque rivalité entre les cultes à mystères et la religion chrétienne émergente. Ainsi par exemple, on réutera les travaux apologétiques de A. P. Festugière tenant pour nulle l’in�uence des mystères bachiques sur le christianisme, c. Idem, Études de religion grecque et hellénistique, hellénistique , Paris 1972, 44–47, ou encore les affirmations du grand historien des religions, que ut A. D. Nock, Christianisme et Hellénisme, Hellénisme , Paris 1973, 184–186, qui n’y voit qu’un phénomène très restreint [= Idem, ‘Hellenistic Mysteries and Christian Sacraments’, Mnemosyne, Mnemosyne, 4/5 (1952), 177–214] Contra : A. Loisy, Les mystères païens et le mystère chrétien, chrétien , Paris 19302, qui 6
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MacMullen soulignait au terme d’une étude ondamentale comme suit : « Le grand évènement que j’ai essayé de décrire (à savoir le passage du paganisme au christianisme, E. F.) ne pouvait pas se terminer par une éclipse totale ou un rejet du passé païen. Le triomphe de l’Église ne ut pas celui de l’oblitération (ace aux anciennes croyances, écrivait dans l’introduction de son ouvrage comme suit : « Les racines du christianisme ne plongent pas seulement dans le judaïsme, mais aussi dans les anciennes religions païennes par l’intermédiaire des cultes à mystères ». [Ce débat préoccupa nombre de chercheurs notamment au début du XXème siècle, c. par exemple : S. Angus, Te Mystery Religions and Christianity – A Study in the Religious Background o Early Christianity , London 1925 ; J. A. Faulkner, ‘Did the Mystery Religions In�uence Apostolic Christianity ?’, Methodist Quarterly Review, Review, 73 (1924), 387–403 ; Idem, ‘Did Ancient Christianity Borrow rom the Mystery Religions ?’, Ibid., Ibid., 74 (1925), 266–278 ; O. Casel, ‘Antike und christliche Mysterien’, Blätter ür das bayerische Gymnasial-Schulwesen, Gymnasial-Schulwesen, 63 (1927), 329–340 ; W. R. Halliday, Te Pagan Background o Early Christianity , Liverpool 1925. Et al.] Quant à H. Jeanmaire, il devait affirmer dans son étude classique : Dionysos – Histoire du culte de Bacchus, Bacchus , Paris 19915, 479 : « Il va de soi que ni le dieu né d’une mortelle, ni le culte du berceau divin, ni les espérances attachées à l’avènement d’un sauveur n’étaient conceptions étrangères à l’ancien paganisme hellénique. Le Christianisme, au cours de son expansion, a atalement rencontré l’exercice des cultes dionysiaques dont les racines et les rejets poussaient encore vigoureusement dans les premiers siècles de notre ère. » Voir en�n : N. Mahé, Le mythe de Bacchus, Bacchus , Paris 1992, 163–164, dont on citera un passage signi�cati : « rop de vérités sacrées qui imprègnent les textes ou les arts plastiques se correspondent dans la théologie chrétienne et la mystique dionysiaque pour qu’on puisse n’y voir que le ruit d’une vague correspondance. correspondance. Les épisodes de la mythologie bachique, tels que l’enance écartée du dieu, son épanouissement à l’âge adulte et surtout son union sacrée avec Ariane, évoquent le cheminement de Jésus de sa naissance à la maturité et l’image biblique de l’union du Christ avec son Église. La légende orphique, avec la passion et la résurrection, ainsi que les notions philosophiques du néoplatonisme qui en découlent, la consubstantialité du Fils au Père, la dualité aite unité, la notion de Dieu-Esprit générateur de toute vie, la chaîne de la chute à la rédemption, la réincarnation rappellent ortement des vérités christiques, le mystère de la rinité, le péché originel et la rédemption. Comme les passions de Dionysos ou d’Osiris démembrés, ou d’Attis mutilé, la passion du Christ cruci�é pour effacer le péché des hommes puise son sens dans une perspective de salut. En commun donc la quête de l’immortalité, l’espérance d’une survie bienheureuse et l’amour d’une divinité compatissante qui vient sauver l’humanité et soulager la misère humaine . . . Comment ne pas rapprocher également, au-delà de la question théologique de la transsubstantation, le banquet dionysiaque (ou le repas mystique dans le culte de Mithra), où coule à �ots le sang de la vigne, symbole du nectar d’immortalité, de la Cène eucharistique où l’assemblée ecclésiastique communie au sang du Christ ? Les lustrations et bains cathartiques dans les religions à mystères de l’ablution puri�catrice du baptême ? La pureté rituelle des Bacchantes (jeûne et abstinence sexuelle) des exigences ascétiques du sacerdoce chrétien ? . . . ». Ces deux thèses antagoniques nous incitent à prôner la voie médiane [Sur ces deux positions historiographiques, voir encore : Inra, Inra, notes 12, 16]. out n’est évidemment pas polythéiste dans le christianisme des premiers siècles [c. notamment les propos de N. Belayche qui voit des divergences ondamentales dans le rituel, la conception théologique et la notion d’ ‘Église’, c. Idem, ‘Le christianisme antique était-il une « religion orientale » ?’ Le Monde de la Bible, Bible, 181 (2008), 30], cela dit, de nombreuses
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E. F.) mais de l’intégration la plus large et de l’assimilation ».10 De nombreux rapprochements aussi bien rituels que symboliques, semblent effectivement témoigner de relations étroites entre paganisme et christianisme aux IIème et IIIème siècles de l’ère commune. 11 La notion d’un dieu, à la ois mort et ressuscité, caractérise les légendes et les cultes de nombreuses divinités du paganisme. Osiris meurt déchiqueté par Seth-yphon, mais Isis, par l’entremise de son �ls Horus-Harpocrate, parvient à reconstituer les membres égarés d’Osiris, qui reprend alors vie. Les Romains commémoraient à l’époque impériale, une ête joyeuse (Hilaria) Hilaria) marquant ce passage – le 3 Novembre – ainsi que nous enseigne le calendrier de Philocalus en date de l’an 354. Attis le phrygien mort, après s’être émasculé par amour pour Cybèle le 24 mars (dies (dies Sanguinis) Sanguinis) ressuscitait – selon les �dèles dès le lendemain – lors d’une ête (Hilaria ( Hilaria)) qui correspondait à la semaine de Pâques, évoquant ainsi étrangement la commémoration de la résurrection de Jésus.12 En l’an 372, la ête de Noël (Natalis ( Natalis Christi) Christi) ut précisément conceptions et coutumes chrétiennes sont maniestement d’origine païenne [c. G. Bowersock, Ibid., Ibid., 41, selon lequel bien que ondé sur une culture araméenne procheorientale, il n’y a pas d’hellénisation du christianisme car ce dernier est grec dès le début. Les évangiles sont écrits en grec et la diffusion de la nouvelle religion se ait en grec. Le christianisme est donc dès son apparition hellénisé]. 10 R. MacMullen, Christianisme et Paganisme du IV e au VIII e siècle, siècle, Paris 1998, 217. 11 Cet argument ut déjà relevé en détail détail par J. J. Öllinger, Paganisme et Judaïsme ou introduction à l’histoire du Christianisme, Christianisme, II, Bruxelles 1858, 58ff. 12 A. . Fear, ‘Cybele and Christ’, in : E. N. Lane (ed.), Cybele, Attis and Related Cults – Essays in Memory o M. J. Vermaseren, Vermaseren , Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 131, Leiden – New York – Köln 1996, 37–50, s’interroge judicieusement sur la charge menée par les textes patristiques à l’encontre du culte métroaque en particulier, attendu que généralement les Pères de l’Eglise n’attaquèrent pas spéci�quement les cultes à mystères, et l’auteur de proposer comme élément de réponse [38] : “One solution which immediately presents itsel is the possibility that the metroac cult was seen as more threatening to Christianity than other pagan religions. Both St. Augustine and Firmicus Maternus dwell on the seductive nature o the cult and the danger they perceive is the nearness o its rituals to those o the Christian church.” Quant aux similitudes mythographiques et rituelles communes au culte phrygien et au christianisme, c. Ibid., Ibid., 39 : “Te youthul Attis afer his murder was miraculously brought to lie again three days afer his demise. Te celebration o this cycle o death and renewal was one o the major estivals o the metroac cult . . . Te parallelism, albeit at a super�cial level, between this myth and the account o the resurrection o Christ is clear”, [40] : “Once again the closeness o the dates and the act that the metroac estival o resurrection would all on the date o Christ’s execution both threw down a psychological challenge in itsel and may well have undercut the Christian celebration o the resurrection o Christ in the public mind.” À propos des convergences syncrétiques opérées jusqu’à l’époque byzantine entre Cybèle, “la Mère des Dieux”, et Marie, “la Mère de Dieu”, c. Ph. Borgeaud, La Mère des Dieux – de Cybèle à la Vierge Marie, Marie , Paris 1996, 182–183. outeois, A. . Fear [Ibid. [ Ibid.,, 40ff ] semble avoir raison de rejeter la
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déterminée lors de la commémoration du solstice le 24/25 décembre (Natalis Invicti) Invicti) en l’honneur du Sol Invictus, Invictus, une coïncidence exigeant ré�exion.13 Les jonctions entre christianisme et paganisme, apparaissent également au �guré, dans la teneur de l’expression anagogique de certains mythes. Des éléments tels que, la naissance virginale de Persée, Mithra le Perse qui naquit d’une pierre issue du bas-ond d’une caverne14 ou encore le pin sacré d’Attis,15 étaient susceptibles d’aboutir à de semblables recoupements. 16 À dire vrai, les polémistes chrétiens thèse, qui prévalait chez nombres d’auteurs au XX ème siècle, considérant intégralement le christianisme comme une des religions à mystères, (à comparer [ Supra, Supra, n. 9] avec l’assimilation christianisme/dionysisme) christianisme/dionysisme) notamment : H. revor-Roper, Te Rise o Christian Europe, Europe, London 1965, 58, contra : A. Schweitzer, Geschichte der Leben-Jesu Forschung , Berlin 19516, 536–538 ; B. Metzger, ‘Considerations o Methodology in the Study o the Mystery Religions and Early Christianity’, Harvard Teological Review, Review, 48 (1955), 1–20 ; G. Freyburger, ‘Les religions à mystères dans l’empire romain’, in : Y. Lehmann (ed.), Religions de l’Antiquité , Paris 1999, 342–343 : “On a observé depuis longtemps des analogies rappantes, notamment dans les rites et dans la conception du salut, entre ‘les mystères païens et le mystère chrétien’. Mais on est actuellement prudent sur ce point . . . Il n’en reste pas moins que, même si les contenus doctrinaux étaient bien différents, Isis a un peu le sourire de Notre-Dame et les mithriastes ont des allures de moines-soldats. Sur le plan psychologique donc, au moins, les Romains de l’Empire ont certainement pu passer sans trop de difficultés de l’adoration d’Isis à la vénération de Marie et de l’imitation de Mithra à celle de Jésus-Christ.” 13 Le cas des Ludi Apollinares (5–13 Juillet) est à l’origine de la ête chrétienne des Collectes, pour assurer à l’Église des ressources �nancières. Les Robigalia sont Robigalia sont transormées en Litanie Majeure, êtée le 25 avril. Ceci-dit, on se doit de remarquer là-encore l’ambiguïté de la situation, le revers de la médaille, avec la lutte menée par l’Église contre les êtes païennes. Ainsi, une comparaison entre la liste des êtes païennes �gurant dans les calendriers romains de 354, de 387 (Campanie) et dans celui de Polemius Silvius de 448, atteste la disparition progressive des estivités polythéistes, ce qui amena H. Leclercq à parler de “laïcisation de l’almanach païen”, c. Idem, ‘Paganisme’, Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie, liturgie , XIII/1, Paris 1937, col. 368. 14 J. Duchesne-Guillemin, ‘Die Magier in Bethlehem und Mithra als Erlöser ?’, Zeitschrif des deutschen morgenländischen Gesellschaf , 36 (1961), 472–477. 15 J. Furtner, Furtner, ‘Attis und und Christus’, Katholiken-Korresp., Katholiken-Korresp., 24 (1930), 10–12 ; 210–217 ; 228–239 ; 256–263. 16 Voir à ce propos les propos importants importants de F. Cumont, Les mystères de Mithra, Mithra, 2 Paris 1985 , 199 : “A l’époque où ce monothéisme païen [= le culte de Mithra, E. F.] prétendit régner à Rome, la lutte entre les mystères mithriaques et le christianisme avait depuis longtemps commencé. La propagation des deux religions avait été à peu près contemporaine, et leur expansion s’était opérée dans des conditions analogues. Venues toutes deux de l’Orient, elles se répandirent à la aveur des mêmes causes générales, l’unité politique et l’anarchie morale de l’empire. La diffusion de l’une et de l’autre se produisit avec une rapidité semblable, et, au déclin du II e siècle, elles comptaient pareillement des adhérents dans les régions les plus lointaines du monde romain.” Et plus loin [201–202], on lit : “La lutte entre les deux religions rivales ut d’autant plus opiniâtre que leurs caractères étaient plus semblables. Leurs adeptes ormaient pareillement des conventicules secrets, étroitement unis, dont les membres se donnaient le nom de “Frères”. Les rites qu’ils pratiquaient, offraient de nombreuses
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des premiers siècles étaient tout à ait conscients de ces rapprochements rédhibitoires. Ainsi par exemple, Justin Martyr (100–168 env.) originaire de Naplouse en Samarie, qui ut éduqué dans le paganisme avant d’embrasser le christianisme, affirme en invoquant l’eucharistie que « les mauvais démons ont imité cette institution dans les mystères de Mithra : on présente du pain et une coupe d’eau dans les cérémonies de l’initiation . . . »17, ou encore ertullien de Carthage (160–225 env.) stipulant que : « Celui [= le diable] qui s’est si jalousement efforcé de reproduire dans les choses de l’idolâtrie les rites mêmes qui servent à administrer les sacrements sac rements du Christ, celui-là aussi [. . .] a pu appliquer à une oi proane et rivale les instruments des choses divines et des sacrements chrétiens, en tirant sa pensée de leurs pensées, ses paroles de leurs paroles, ses paraboles de leurs paraboles. » 18 Cette acculturation syncrétique des rites chrétiens aux mœurs païennes d’antan,19 est concevable du ait de la nature de l’auditoire auquel s’adressèrent les Pères de l’Église. Il s’agissait de « gentils » bien introduits dans les cités, 20 et en tant que tels, il eût été illusoire de
analogies : les sectateurs du dieu perse, comme les chrétiens, se puri�aient par un baptême, recevaient d’une sorte de con�rmation la orce de combattre les esprits du mal, et attendaient d’une communion le salut de l’âme et du corps. Comme eux aussi, ils sancti�aient le dimanche, et êtaient la naissance du Soleil le 25 décembre, le jour où la Noël était célébrée, au moins depuis le IV e siècle.” En dépit de ces similitudes, il existe également plusieurs dissimilitudes cardinales entre le christianisme juvénile et le mithriacisme, [Ibid. [Ibid.,, 200–201] et ces ressemblances ne permettent assurément pas d’établir scienti�quement le sens de l’in�uence d’une religion à l’autre, c. Ibid., Ibid., 204– 205 : “. . . des ressemblances ne supposent point nécessairement une imitation. Beaucoup de correspondances entre la doctrine mithriaque et la oi catholique s’expliquent par la communauté de leur origine orientale. Certaines idées, certaines cérémonies ont dû cependant passer de l’un des cultes dans l’autre, mais nous soupçonnons le plus souvent ces emprunts plutôt que nous les apercevons clairement.” Le propos célèbre d’Ernest Renan, selon lequel « si le christianisme eût été arrêté dans sa croissance par quelque maladie mortelle, le monde eût été mithriaste » [c. Idem, Marc-Aurèle et la �n du monde antique, antique, Paris 1882, 579], semble aujourd’hui exagéré, c. M. Simon, ‘Mithra, rival du Christ ?’, Congrès international d’études mithriaques, mithriaques, II, éhéranLiège 1978, 457ff ; R. urcan, Mithra et le Mithriacisme, Mithriacisme, Paris 1993, 116. 17 Justin Martyr, Apologia Martyr, Apologia,, I, 66 ; Idem, Dialogus contra ryphonem, ryphonem, 70, 78. 18 ertullien, De praescr. Haeret , 4 ; Idem, De corona, corona, 15 ; Idem, De baptismo, baptismo, 5. Voir également Pseudo August., Quaest vet. Et nov. est., est. , 114. outes ces explications, orcées voire dé�échies, démontrent l’extrême problématique soulevée par l’existence de coutumes similaires aux rites chrétiens et païens, c. urcan, (Supra ( Supra,, n. 16) 19 Simon, (Supra (Supra,, n. 16). 20 J. P. Martin, Pouvoir et religions de l’avènement de Septime Sévère au concile de Nicée (193–325 ap. J.-C.), J.-C.) , Paris 1998, 101 ; 107. Concernant la christianisation partielle et progressive des classes dirigeantes à Rome, c. P. R. L. Brown, ‘Aspects o Christianization o the Roman Aristocracy’, Journal Aristocracy’, Journal o Roman Studies, Studies, 51 (1961), 1–11.
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penser qu’en aisant leur, la religion chrétienne, ces derniers tireraient un trait immédiat et dé�niti sur croyances, rites, coutumes et idées philosophiques qui caractérisèrent et açonnèrent pendant des siècles l’ensemble de leur culture religieuse et mentalité ancestrales ou comme l’énonça pertinemment Robin Lane Fox : « au moment où le christianisme se répandait, nombre de dieux païens avaient déjà mille ans d’âge »21, par conséquent l’annihilation des anciennes coutumes séculaires par la chrétienté juvénile ut indolente et le plus souvent impossible à appliquer dans son intégralité. 22 II La question qui, à présent, nous interpelle est celle de savoir si le paganisme, qui in�uença si considérablement le christianisme lors de la conversion grandissante des païens dès le II ème siècle, parvint également à in�uencer le christianisme primiti lequel n’existait originellement qu’au sein du Judaïsme du I er siècle, c’est-à-dire à la �n de l’époque
R. L. Fox, Païens et chrétiens – La religion et la vie religieuse dans l’empire romain de la mort de Commode au concile de Nicée, Nicée , oulouse 1997, 15. 22 On retiendra à ce propos les propos incisis incisis du grand savant qu’était F. Cumont Cumont à propos des cultes unèbres dans son ouvrage posthume, Lux Perpetua, Perpetua, Paris 1949, 40 : « Nulle cérémonie de la religion païenne n’était aussi universellement universellement célébrée que celle du culte des trépassés dans les régions les plus diverses de l’empire. Chaque jour, et pour ainsi dire chaque heure, des amilles ou des collèges se réunissaient dans leur tombeau commun pour y êter quelque anniversaire en y consommant le repas unèbre. Les populations restaient ortement attachées à des pratiques dont l’omission leur eût paru non seulement impie, mais dangereuse, car les esprits des morts étaient puissants et vindicatis . . . Aussi n’est-il pas surprenant que ces usages aient persisté à l’époque chrétienne malgré les efforts pour les combattre » et plus loin à propos de la nécromancie [108] : « La nécromancie participait à la ois de la divination et de la magie, toutes deux réprouvées par les chrétiens qui avaient ainsi une double raison de la rejeter. Mais la puissance de l’Eglise, conjuguée avec celle de l’Etat, ne réussit pas à extirper une oi populaire qui remontait aux origines même de la religion, et la croyance en son pouvoir allacieux s’avéra indéracinable en dépit des lois pénales et des anathèmes. Ses rites à la ois puérils et cruels continuèrent à être pratiqués dans les ténèbres, et l’héritage d’un passé barbare se transmit à travers toute la civilisation grecque et romaine et les siècles obscurs du Moyen-âge jusqu’à l’aube des temps modernes. » Cumont avait entrevu le ait que les maniestations religieuses du paganisme connaissaient des aspirations identiques auxquelles devait répondre la religion chrétienne et qu’elles en avaient parois prévu la réponse. De plus, le christianisme a subi, en tout temps, les in�uences du milieu environnant, notamment des cultes païens. [c. Ibid., Ibid., XXX & n. 2 : « A mesure que l’on étudiera de plus près l’histoire religieuse de l’Empire, le triomphe de l’Église apparaîtra davantage, pensons-nous, comme l’aboutissement d’une longue évolution des croyances. »] 21
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du second temple (70). En d’autres termes, Jésus ut-il in�uencé, ou attiré, par la doctrine ou le rituel des cultes païens environnants ? Les évangiles synoptiques véhiculent-ils un message païen, et si oui sous quelle orme ? Les premiers apôtres connaissaient-ils les subtilités des religions païennes environnantes avec les caractéristiques cultuelles ethnico-locales propres à chacune ch acune d’entre elles ? Car un culte syrophénicien imprégné syncrétiquement d’in�uences cananéennes millénaires, apparaissant elles-mêmes sous un aspect hellénisé à l’époque romaine, n’a que très peu de rapport avec un culte civique romain du type de celui rendu en l’honneur de la triade capitoline dans les colonies romaines. Autant de questions, auxquelles il serait nécessaire de répondre méthodiquement, et si possible exhaustivement, pour chacune d’entre elles, ce qui nous sera difficile de aire dans le cadre qui nous est imparti ici. outeois on s’efforcera d’évoquer certains aspects de cette problématique et d’esquisser un dénouement approuvable. Sans pour autant nous immiscer dans les questions ort complexes ayant trait au « Jésus historique »,23 on dira néanmoins que ce dernier naquit jui, sous la Halakha, Halakha,24 et exécuté en tant que « roi des juis ». 25 Dans les évangiles synoptiques, il n’entretient que très peu de rapport avec les « gentils » ou païens, il interdit du reste à ses disciples de les approcher26 et d’imiter leurs attitudes. 27 Il critique par ailleurs
Parmi les études ort nombreuses nombreuses sur cette question on retiendra retiendra les travaux sui vants : S. Patterson, Te God o Jesus – the Historical Jesus and the Search or Meaning , Harrisburg, Pa. 1998 ; C. A. Evans, Lie o Jesus Research – an Annoted Bibliography , Leiden 1996 ; Studying the Historical Jesus – Evaluations o the State o Current Research, Research, B. Chilton & C. A. Evans (eds.), Leiden 1998 ; D. Marguerat, Te First Christian Historian – Writing the ‘Acts o the Apostles’ , Cambridge University Press 2002. Et al. 24 Galates, Galates, 4, 4 : « ὅτε δὲ ἦλθεν τὸ πλήρωμα τοῦ χρόνου, ἐξαπέστειλεν ὁ θεὸς τὸν υἱὸν αὐτοῦ, γενόμενον ἐκ γυναικός, γενόμενον ὑπὸ νόμον.” 25 Il est remarquable que dans les évangiles synoptiques, ceux qui livrèrent Jésus à Ponce Pilate urent exclusivement sadducéens et non pas pharisiens. Ces derniers sont, du reste, totalement absents du procès. Notons à ce propos que l’exécution de Jacques, rère de Jésus par ordre du Grand-Prêtre sadducéen irrita tellement les Pharisiens, qu’ils obtinrent sa suspension, c. Flavius Josèphe, Antiquitates Iudaicarum, Iudaicarum, 20, 200. 26 Ainsi en Matthieu 10, 5 on lit : « Τούτους τοὺς δώδεκα ἀπέστειλεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς παραγγείλας αὐτοῖς λέγων, Εἰς ὁδὸν ἐθνῶν μὴ ἀπέλθητε, καὶ εἰς πόλιν Σαμαριτῶν μὴ εἰσέλθητε·” : « els sont les douze que Jésus envoya après leur avoir donné les instructions suivantes : N’allez pas vers les païens et n’entrez pas dans les villes des Samaritains. » 27 Matthieu, Matthieu, 6, 31 : « Ne vous inquiétez donc point, et ne dites pas : Que mangeronsnous ? que boirons-nous ? de quoi serons-nous vêtus ? » 32 : « (πάντα γὰρ ταῦτα τὰ ἔθνη ἐπιζητοῦσιν· οἶδεν γὰρ ὁ πατὴρ ὑμῶν ὁ οὐράνιος ὅτι χρῄζετε τούτων ἁπάντων.) 23
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sévèrement les Pharisiens qui s’empressent à convertir les non-Juis, 28 et ne se réjouit même pas à l’idée de les guérir, ce qui semble certi�er l’inimitié de Jésus pour ce monde païen.29 Il traite les païens notamment de « chiens ».30 Il est en outre ort plausible que Jésus connaissait les rites païens, ou du moins certains aspects de leurs prières, conormément à l’ancienne injonction tannaïtique stipulant : « Sache quoi répondre à l’hérétique »31, impliquant, de ait, une connaissance préalable approondie des cultures religieuses rivales à combattre. Il ut d’ailleurs récemment démontré que les Rabbins de Palestine (I er– IVème siècles), héritiers du mouvement pharisien, possédaient de solides acquis concernant les cultes païens.32 David Flusser, qui s’opposa arouchement à la thèse visant à déceler l’origine du christianisme dans la culture polythéiste environnante, 33 avança un argument difficilement réutable, car en admettant que le christianisme ut issu des mouvances païennes en vogue en Orient romain au Ier siècle de l’ère Car toutes ces choses, ce sont les païens qui les recherchent. Votre Père céleste sait que vous en avez besoin. » 28 Matthieu, Matthieu, 23, 15 : « Οὐαὶ ὑμῖν γραμματεῖς καὶ Φαρισαῖοι ὑποκριταί ὅτι περιάγετε τὴν θάλασσαν καὶ τὴν ξηρὰν ποιῆσαι ἕνα προσήλυτον. . . .” : “Malheur à vous, scribes et pharisiens hypocrites ! parce que vous courez la mer et la terre pour aire un prosélyte . . .” Sur le regard singulièrement anti-païen attribué à Jésus, propre à l’évangile l’ évangile de Matthieu, mais re�étant sans doute également celui de la communauté matthéenne à l’égard des non-Juis, laquelle selon D. C. Sim, aurait été particulièrement persécutée par le pouvoir romain, c. Idem, ‘Te Gospel o Matthew and the Gentiles’, Journal or the Study o the New estament , 57 (1995), 17–48 ; Idem, Te Gospel o Matthew and Christian Judaism – Te History and Social Setting o the Matthean Community (Studies o the New estament and its World) Edinburgh 1998, 215–256. Pour une approche différente, c. D. Senior, ‘Between wo Worlds – Gentile and Jewish Christians in Matthew’s Gospel’, Catholic Biblical Quarterly [= CBQ], CBQ], 61/1 (1999), 1–23. 29 Pour reprendre reprendre les propos de David Flusser, Flusser, on dira paradoxalement paradoxalement que Jésus le jui qui n’affectionnait pas singulièrement singulièrement les païens �nit précisément par en devenir le dieu ! c. Idem, Jewish Idem, Jewish Sources in Early Christianity – Studies and Essays, Essays, Jerusalem 4 1989 , 450. (héb.) 30 Marc, Marc, 7, 27–28 : “Cette emme était grecque, syro-phénicienne d’origine. ( ἡ δὲ γυνὴ ἦν Ἑλληνίς Συροφοινίκισσα τῷ γένει·) Elle le pria de chasser le démon hors de sa �lle. Jésus lui dit : Laisse d’abord les enants se rassasier ; car il n’est pas bien de prendre le pain des enants, et de le jeter aux petits chiens.” Il semblerait que Jésus dénigre les païens, [c. Matthieu, Matthieu, 5, 47], une position partagée maniestement par la quasi-majorité des Juis de Palestine à l’époque du second temple vivant sous le joug romain jusqu’à la grande révolte de 66 et ce jusqu’au temps de Rabbi Judah Ha-Nassi (180–222), c. R. Yankelevitch, Jews Yankelevitch, Jews and Gentiles in Palestine in the Period o Mishna and almud , Unpub. Ph. D. Tesis, Ramat Gan 1975, 15ff. (héb.) 31 Mishna Avot , 2, 14 ; B Sanhédrin, Sanhédrin, 38b. 32 E. Friedheim, Rabbinisme et paganisme en Palestine romaine – Étude historique des Realia talmudiques (I er –IV ème siècles), siècles), RGRW 157, Leiden – Boston 2006. 33 Flusser, (Supra (Supra,, n. 29), 418–447. (héb.) ,
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commune, comment alors expliquer le ait que jusqu’à la révolte juive de Ben-Kosba (132–135), les sources chrétiennes primitives retraçant les générations ondatrices de ce mouvement, ne ont apparaître aucune in�uence grecque notoire ? !34 III Il aut cependant noter que certains passages des Évangiles présentent visiblement plusieurs adéquations avec des conceptions païennes dont voici quelques exemples. Le terme de « mystères » en réérence au Christ, est employé à plusieurs reprises par les textes évangéliques35 et l’illumination de l’initié dans les mystères d’Isis discernant en pleine nuit « le soleil rayonnant r ayonnant d’une blanche lumière »36 a pu in�uencer partiellement le cérémonial du baptême chrétien, sans doute par l’intermédiaire d’un passage des épîtres pauliniennes. 37 Les évangiles synoptiques parlent également d’un vêtement lumineux lors de la trans�guration de Jésus, 38 et ceci n’est pas sans rappeler les propos de Plutarque 39 selon lequel l’âme du déunt a précisément l’apparence d’un rayon de lumière,40 rappelant étrangement d’autres Ibid., Ibid., 434. (héb) Corinthiens, Corinthiens, 1, 15, 51 : « ἰδοὺ μυστήριον ὑμῖν λέγω· » ; Romains, Romains, 11, 25 : « ὐ γὰρ θέλω ὑμᾶς ἀγνοεῖν ἀδελφοί τὸ μυστήριον τοῦτο » ; Ibid., Ibid., 16, 25 ; Colossiens, Colossiens, 1, 26–27 : « τὸ μυστήριον τὸ ἀποκεκρυμμένον ἀπὸ τῶν αἰώνων καὶ ἀπὸ τῶν γενεῶν – νῦν δὲ ἐφανερώθη τοῖς ἁγίοις αὐτοῦ, οἷς ἠθέλησεν ὁ θεὸς γνωρίσαι τί τὸ πλοῦτος τῆς δόξης τοῦ μυστηρίου τούτου ἐν τοῖς ἔθνεσιν, ὅ ἐστιν Χριστὸς ἐν ὑμῖν ἡ ἐλπὶς τῆς δόξης·» ; L. Ceraux, ‘L’in�uence des mystères sur les épîtres de S. Paul aux Colossiens et aux Éphésiens’, Sacra pagina, pagina, 2 (1959), 373–379 [rep. Recueil L. Ceraux , III, Gembloux 1962, 269–285]. 36 Apulée, Métamorphoses Apulée, Métamorphoses,, 11, 23. Voir également Plotin, Asclepius, Asclepius, 32 : « Sed tibi, deus summe, gratias ago, qui me videndae divinitatis luminasti lumine. » 37 Corinthiens, Corinthiens, 2, 4, 6 : « τι ὁ θεὸς ὁ εἰπών, Ἐκ σκότους φῶς λάμψει, ὃς ἔλαμψεν ἐν ταῖς καρδίαις ἡμῶν πρὸς φωτισμὸν τῆς γνώσεως τῆς δόξης τοῦ θεοῦ ἐν προσώπῳ Χριστοῦ. » “Car Dieu, qui a dit : La lumière brillera du sein des ténèbres ! a ait briller la lumière dans nos cœurs pour aire resplendir la connaissance de la gloire de Dieu sur la ace de Christ. » Voir également Ephésiens, Ephésiens, 5, 14 : « C’est pour cela qu’il est dit : Réveille-toi, toi qui dors, Relève-toi d’entre les morts, Et Christ t’éclairera. (. . . καὶ ἐπιφαύσει σοι ὁ Χριστός) » 38 Marc, Marc, 9, 3 : « ses vêtements devinrent resplendissants, et d’une telle blancheur qu’il n’est pas de oulon sur la terre qui puisse blanchir ainsi. » ; Luc, Luc, 9, 29 : « Pendant qu’il priait, l’aspect de son visage changea, et son vêtement devint d’une éclatante blancheur. » ; Matthieu, Matthieu, 17, 2 : “Il ut trans�guré devant eux ; son visage resplendit comme le soleil, et ses vêtements devinrent blancs comme la lumière. » 39 De acie, acie, 82, 943D. 40 Ibid., Ibid., “ἀκτῖνι τὴν ὄψιν ἐοικυῖαι”. 34 35
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dires de Matthieu.41 Les anges apparaissant de manière récurrente, dans les textes évangéliques 42 alimentent également l’ambiguïté des origines. Le problème des anges dans le paganisme et dans le christianisme ut effectivement débattu par les théologiens et les historiens des religions sans pour autant emporter l’adhésion sur la question ondamentale, à savoir : Déterminer la part d’in�uences païennes, juives et chrétiennes dans l’apparition des anges au sein du Nouveau estament. Ces doutes urent justi�és par le culte des anges répandu dans le paganisme gréco-romain et accentué précisément au commencement de l’ère chrétienne. Selon F. Cumont ce culte était un apport oriental dans le monde hellénistique et romain. Les convergences entre les croyances eschatologiques païennes et chrétiennes, notamment au regard de l’importance conérée aux anges, amenèrent le savant belge à conclure à une provenance commune, notamment du Mazdéisme.43 Selon d’autres, la religiosité des anges est pour l’essentiel, Matthieu, Matthieu, 13, 43 : “Τότε οἱ δίκαιοι ἐκλάμψουσιν ὡς ὁ ἥλιος ἐν τῇ βασιλείᾳ τοῦ πατρὸς αὐτῶν.” [= Alors les justes resplendiront comme le soleil dans le royaume de leur Père] 42 Marc, Marc, 8, 31 ; 9, 31 ; 10, 34 ; Luc, Luc, 24, 4. Le jeune homme qui proclama de manière retentissante “il est ressuscité . . . il vous précède en Galilée : c’est là que vous le verrez” est ordinairement considéré par la tradition chrétienne comme étant un ange, c. R. E. Brown, Que Sait-on du Nouveau estament , Paris 2000, 189. Voir également : J. Schaberg, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit (SBLDS 61), Chico 1982, 18ff ; B. J. Hubbard, Te Matthean Redaction o a Primitive Apostolic Commissioning (SBLDS 19), Missoula 1974, 45. Voir également : Luc, Luc, 1, 11 : “ὤφθη δὲ αὐτῷ ἄγγελος κυρίου ἑστὼς ἐκ δεξιῶν τοῦ θυσιαστηρίου τοῦ θυμιάματος.” (Alors un ange du Seigneur apparut à Zacharie, et se tint debout à droite de l’autel des parums) On se suffira à titre d’exemple de rapporter encore le texte des Actes des Actes des Apôtres, Apôtres, 5, 19 : “ἄγγελος δὲ κυρίου διὰ νυκτὸς ἤνοιξε τὰς θύρας τῆς φυλακῆς ἐξαγαγών τε αὐτοὺς εἶπεν” évoquant “l’ange du Seigneur” qui les délivra de prison. Et al. 43 Cumont, (Supra (Supra,, n. 22), 230–231 : “Aux démons on substitua ou associa souvent les messagers ou anges des cultes perso-syriens. La conception que se aisaient d’eux les Grecs avant Alexandre ut modi�ée à l’époque hellénistique, lorsqu’on se servit de leur nom pour traduire les termes de mal’akh, mal’akh, des cultes sémitiques, et de yazata du mazdéisme. L’in�uence juive sur le développement de l’angélologie a souvant été mise en lumière, mais on a moins bien reconnu la part qu’eût la religion des Mages dans la ormation de ce syncrétisme. Elle est cependant indubitable et attestée par des témoignages explicites. Les désignations d’“anges” ou de “démons” urent longtemps regardées comme synonymes et le caractère de ces deux classes de créatures plus puissantes que l’homme était en effet semblable. Comme les démons, les anges peuvent être bons ou mauvais, aériens ou chtoniens. » Cumont rapporta notamment le texte en Matthieu, Matthieu, 25, 41 : “διαβόλῳ καὶ τοῖς ἀγγέλοις αὐτοῦ·”, qui semble effectivement con�rmer ce dualisme. C. également : ertullien, De Spectaculis, Spectaculis, 8. Dans une étude plus ancienne, Cumont affirmait déjà ermement que les cultes syriens exercèrent une action prépondérante sur la place du culte des anges dans la théologie chrétienne, c. Idem, ‘Les anges du paganisme’, Revue de l’histoire des religions, religions, 36 (1915), 181. 41
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d’origine grecque.44 Pour bien illustrer les tourments des chercheurs pour dé�nir l’origine et la teneur religieuse du terme « Angelos » dans les sources épigraphiques des premiers siècles de l’ère chrétienne, on se remémorera les désaccords des critiques sur la signi�cation de ce terme apparaissant dans les épitaphes de Téra, une île égéenne près de la Crète. Pour M. Guarducci les inscriptions sont maniestement païennes,45 tandis que pour H. Grégoire,46 A. Ferrua47 et L. Robert elles sont dé�nitivement chrétiennes. 48 Au regard de la méthode, on ne devrait nullement écarter l’hypothèse plausible de l’in�uence de l’angélologie païenne sur l’apparition si réquente des anges dans le Nouveau estament. 49 Les propos apologétiques de Justin Martyr Voir notamment notamment : M. Dibelius, Die Geisterwelt im Glauben des Paulus, Paulus , Göttingen 1907, 209–221 ; W. Bousset, ‘Zur Dämonologie der späteren Antike’, Archiv ür Reli gionswissenschaf , 18 (1915), 170–171 ; Andres, ‘Daimon’, in : Pauly-Wissowa (eds.), RE, RE, III, Supp., Stuttgart 1918, cols. 102–111. 45 M. Guarducci, Studie e Materiali Religioni, Religioni, 15 (1939), 79–88. 46 H. Grégoire, ‘ “on Ange” et les Anges de Téra’, Byzantinische Zeitschrif , 30 (1929–1930), 644 : “C’est précisément la popularité de l’angélologie dans les milieux helléniques qui aura permis aux �dèles de Téra de graver sans scandale sur les tombes de leurs rères décédés une ormule qui ne pouvait choquer aucun païen.” 47 A. Ferrua, Orientalia Christ. Period., Period., 13 (1947), 149–158. 48 L. Robert, Robert, ‘Bulletin épigraphique’, Revue des études grecques (1941), 254 no 106. Il convient de noter que M. P. Nilsson ne tenta même pas de résoudre ce problème en raison de sa complexité, c. Idem, Geschichte der griechischen Religion, Religion, II, Die hellenistische und römische Zeit , München 1950, 518 n. 3 : “Es ist noch eine offene Frage, ob es neben dem jüdisch-christlichen auch heidnische Engel gab, besonders ob die Grabsteine au Tera mit der Formel ἄγγελος τοῦ δεῖνα heidnisch oder christlich sind.” Voir également F. Sokolowski, ‘Sur le culte d’Angelos dans le paganisme grec et romain’, Harvard Teological Review, Review, 53/4 (1960), 229 : “Le mot angelos était emprunté au grec et adapté aux idées religieuses juives. Mais dans plusieurs cas la ormule est tellement équivoque que nous ne pouvons pas dire, s’il s’agit d’un document païen, chrétien ou jui.” 49 On remarquera ici ici que les Sages du almud évoquent évoquent également le cas d’un Jui sacri�ant aux démons et aux anges. Pour les démons, c. Lévitique Rabba, Rabba, 22, 8 (éd. Margulies, 517–518). Dans le culte de Mithra par exemple, on offrait aux démons des animaux indésirables pour les dieux, comme des sangliers, des renards et des loups, c. F. Cumont, Les religions orientales dans le paganisme romain, romain , Paris 19294, 389 ; Idem, (Supra (Supra,, n. 16), 172 n. 2. Sur l’offrande d’encens pour les démons, c. almud de Jérusalem [= J ] eroumot , 1, 1 (40b) ; Guitin, Guitin, 7, 1 (48c) ; Sanhédrin, Sanhédrin, 7, 10 (25c). Voir sur ce sujet J. Z. Smith, ‘owards Interpreting Demonic Powers in Hellenistic and Roman Antiquity’, W. Haase & H. emporini (eds.), ANRW II, 16. 1, Berlin – New York 1978, 425–439. Quant au culte païen des anges connu des rabbins, c. osefa Hulin, Hulin, 2, 18 (éd. Zuckermandel, 503). Sur le culte des anges en Anatolie aux II ème et IIIème siècles, c. notamment, A. R. Sheppard, ‘Pagan Cults o Angels in Roman Asia Minor’, alanta 12–13 (1980–1981), 77–101 ; S. Mitchell, Anatolia – Land, Men and Gods in Asia Minor , II. Te Rise o the Church, Church , Oxord 1993, 46. Concernant l’ Agathos Agathos Daimon à Epiphaneia (Hama) en Syrie, c. L. Jalabert & R. Mouterde, Inscriptions grecques et latine de Syrie, Syrie, V, Émésène, Émésène, Paris 1959, 27–28 no 2025. Et al. 44
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concernant les liens de proximité entre l’Eucharistie50 et les mystères de Mithra rapportés en amont,51 avec les accusations de plagiat et/ ou de contreaçons, de part et d’autre, amenèrent les chercheurs à se pencher sur la question de possibles in�uences sur l’Eucharistie. Mettant l’accent sur les traits communs et les divergences ondamentales entre ces deux actes on retiendra les conclusions de M. Meslin : « Audelà des similitudes matérielles du pain et du vin, il semble certain qu’une intention analogue animait les deux rituels : dans chaque culte les repas sacrés ont été d’abord vécus comme le signe d’une nouvelle alliance entre les hommes et leur dieu, alliance scellée par un sacri�ce symbolique renouvelé rituellement par la communauté. Mais de ce ait on ne peut déduire raisonnablement aucun indice de dépendance ni d’in�uences réciproques. Car la différence ondamentale entre les deux cultes réside dans le ait que, pour les chrétiens, c’est le Fils de Dieu qui s’est offert en sacri�ce. Dès lors, l’Eucharistie qui le commémore et le renouvelle est un don gratuit, ait par Dieu aux hommes . . . En tuant le taureau Mithra n’agit que comme prêtre, il n’est pas la victime. Le repas de son culte n’est pas la manducation de sa propre substance divine. Son action reste un modèle pour l’homme à qui Mithra propose un dépassement de soi par une initiation ascétique. Il ne le conduit pas à la rencontre d’un dieu sauveur incarné. Par là, l’expérience religieuse qu’il proposait se situait bien plus dans la norme de la religiosité antique que ne le aisait le christianisme. Mais en cela même réside la cause de sa disparition, quelles qu’aient été les valeurs proondes que le mithraïsme a offertes aux hommes. »52 Lorsque l’on parcourt des textes évangéliques autres que les synoptiques, on y trouve peut-être quelques traces païennes. L’évangile de
À ce propos voir les textes principaux dans Matthieu, Matthieu, 26, 27–28 : “ καὶ λαβὼν ποτήριον καὶ εὐχαριστήσας ἔδωκεν αὐτοῖς λέγων, Πίετε ἐξ αὐτοῦ πάντες, οῦτο γάρ ἐστιν τὸ αἷμά μου τῆς διαθήκης τὸ περὶ πολλῶν ἐκχυννόμενον εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν.” [Il prit ensuite une coupe ; et, après avoir rendu grâces, il la leur donna, en disant : Buvez-en tous ; car ceci est mon sang, le sang de l’alliance, qui est répandu pour plusieurs, pour la rémission des péchés.] ; Luc, Luc, 22, 20 : “καὶ τὸ ποτήριον ὡσαύτως μετὰ τὸ δειπνῆσαι λέγων, Τοῦτο τὸ ποτήριον ἡ καινὴ διαθήκη ἐν τῷ αἵματί μου, τὸ ὑπὲρ ὑμῶν ἐκχυννόμενον” [Il prit de même la coupe, après le souper, et la leur donna, en disant : Cette coupe est la nouvelle alliance en mon sang, qui est répandu pour vous.] 51 Justin, (Supra (Supra,, n. 17). Voir à ce propos : J. F. McConnell, ‘Te Eucharist and the Mystery Religions’, CBQ 10 (1948), 29–41. 52 M. Meslin, ‘Convivialité ou communion sacramentelle ? Repas mithraïque et eucharistie chrétienne’, in : A. Benoit, M. Philonenko & C. Vogel (eds.), Paganisme, Judaïsme, Christianisme – In�uences et affrontements affrontements dans le monde antique, Mélanges Mélanges offerts à Marcel Simon, Simon, Paris 1978, 305. 50
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Jean est généralement considéré comme un évangile hellénistique. 53 L’utilisation d’idées abstraites comme la lumière, la vérité, la dualité du monde entre lumière et pénombre son concept du Logos dans le prologue de cet évangile, 54 ont amené les chercheurs à y voir une composition littéraire issue des courants de la philosophie grecque ou bien des cultes à mystères. 55 outeois, rien ne semble être moins sûr. Certains y virent des in�uences gnostiques 56 voire du judaïsme hellénistique, par l’entremise des écrits de Philon d’Alexandrie. 57 Il nous Pour illustrer cette affirmation, affirmation, on rapportera ici la question réthorique de G. W. MacRae, ‘Te Fourth Gospel and Religiongeschichte’, Religiongeschichte’, CBQ, CBQ, 32 (1970), 15 [repr. In : D. J. Harrington & S. B. Marrow (eds.), Studies in the New estament and Gnosticism, cism, Wilmington 1987, 15–31] : “I have no yet read anyone who argues that John’s background was Indian o Far Eastern, but I should not be greatly surprised to do so . . . But can one pose the question in a slightly different manner : since the age o the Fourth Gospel was the age o Roman Hellenism, characterized in many respects by a kind o religious universalism or syncretism, is it not possible that the Fourth Evangelist my have tried deliberately to incorporate a diversity o backgrounds into the one gospel message precisely to emphasize the universality o Jesus ?” Selon ce critique les aspects hellénisés de l’évangile de Jean appuient et développent le caractère universel de Jésus semblablement à l’universalité dont jouissait le culte isiaque dans l’empire romain. À en croire cet auteur, le message de Jean se résume à la possibilité d’atteindre Jésus de plusieurs manières (juives ou païennes), mais il ne peut être compris qu’en termes chrétiens, excluant ainsi une quelconque perception juive, grecque voire gnostique, c. Ibid., Ibid., 24. 54 Pour un résumé concis des différentes démarches démarches de l’historiographie moderne ace aux écrits johanniques, on consultera toujours et encore avec intérêt : C. H. Dodd, L’interprétation du quatrième évangile, évangile, Paris 1975. 55 Cumont, (Supra (Supra,, n. 22), 423 : “Mais là ne se bornent pas les analogies rituelles de l’initiation dans le christianisme et dans les Mystères. La catéchèse, la “tradition” du Pater et du Symbole de la oi sont comparables à la communication du discours sacré, ἱέρὸς λόγος”. Voir également, Ibid., Ibid., 237. Pour le Logos dans le culte mithriaque, c. Cumont, (Supra (Supra,, n. 16), 141. Il est très intéressant de noter que ertullien voit dans le linge dont le Christ johannique s’habille, pour porter les ablutions sur les pieds de ses apôtres, un vêtement similaire à celui de l’antique dieu égyptien : Osiris, c. Idem, De cor., cor., 8 : “et cum linteo circumstringitur, propria Osiridis veste”. Sur la notion des logoï dans les mystères grecs depuis l’époque classique, c. W. Burkert, Les cultes à mystères dans l’antiquité , Paris 1992, 65–67. Voir en�n : E. Russell, ‘Possible In�uences o the Mysteries on the Form and Interrelation o the Johannine Writings’, Journal o Biblical Literature, Literature, 51 (1931), 336–351 qui place la rédaction du quatrième évangile et des textes johanniques, comme l’ Apocalypse, Apocalypse, en Asie Mineure, établissant ainsi une corrélation entre les cultes à mystères anatoliens et phrygiens avec le logos le logos,, l’initiation, la notion de l’au-delà et le salut dans la pensée johannique. 56 Voir notamment : R. Bultmann, Te Gospel o John – A Commentary , Westminster 1971, 15ff ; D’autres sont d’avis que Jean discuta de nombreuses questions �gurant dans les écrits gnostiques, touteois les réponses qu’il y apporte sont ondamentalement différentes, c. F. Vouga, ‘Jean et la Gnose’, in : A. Marchadour (ed.), Origine et postérité de l’évangile de Jean, Jean, Paris 1990, 107–125 ; J. M. Sevrin, ‘Le quatrième évangile et le gnosticisme – question de méthode’, in : J-D Kaestli, J. M. Poffet, J. Zumstein (eds.), La communauté johannique et son histoire, histoire, Genève 1990, 251–268. Et al. 57 T. . obin, ‘Te Prologue o John and Hellenistic Jewish Speculation’, CBQ 52/2 (1990), 252–253 : “I shall suggest a plausible world o thought, in this case the 53
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semble en réalité qu’il aille accentuer davantage le caractère jui du quatrième évangile, car Jean semble être relativement amilier avec le milieu palestinien. Il connaît la localisation de Béthanie, 58 le jardin sur la rive du Kidron.59 Il évoque le portique de Salomon situé dans le temple.60 Il mentionne les piscines de Béthesda, 61 ansi que celle de Siloé,62 ou encore le Lithostrotos. 63 Il convient d’ailleurs de remarquer que ces sites ne �gurent pas dans les évangiles synoptiques, certains parallèles externes con�rmant parois la précision de ces rappels, pourraient conorter l’origine palestinienne du quatrième évangile. 64 Jean est également amilier avec certains éléments de la loi juive. 65 Il nous semble par conséquent assez convaincant d’affirmer que les éléments à l’origine de Jean sont enracinés dans la tradition juive de Palestine romaine. Il y a sans doute une hellénisation des messages johanniques, mais l’héritage jui (biblique et intertestamentaire) semble y être décisi. Les manuscrits de Qumran semble aujourd’hui éclairer la notion de lumière et de ténèbres qui divisent le monde, 66 l’esprit de vérité, la marche des hommes dans cette voie de vérité, 67 ce qui visiblement ne ait qu’éloigner davantage le quatrième évangile d’in�uences païennes clairement attestées. 68
world o Hellenistic Jewish interpretation and speculation o which the hymn in the Prologue was a part.” ; [256] : “Logos “Logos was an important concept in Hellenistic Judaism and had a long l ong and complex history.” [268] : “On the basis o the parallels between the hymn o the Prologue and some o biblical interpretations o Philo o Alexandria, one is led to the conclusion that the hymn in the prologue, like Philo . . ., was part o the larger world o Hellenistic Jewish speculative interpretations o biblical texts.” 58 Jean, Jean, 11, 18. 59 Ibid., Ibid., 18, 1. 60 Ibid., Ibid., 10, 23. 61 Ibid., Ibid., 5, 2. 62 Ibid., Ibid., 9, 7. 63 Ibid., Ibid., 19, 13. 64 Certains critiques critiques ont, au demeurant, expliqué expliqué quelques passages de Jean comme étant une traduction de l’araméen, c. par exemple : C. F. Burney, Te Aramaic Origin o the Fourth Gospel , Oxord 1922. 65 Les êtes juives y apparaissent accompagnées de discussions con�rmant la connaissance du rituel jui (Ibid. (Ibid.,, 5, 9 ; 6, 4 ; 7, 2 ; 10, 22) Jean parle des règles de pureté (Ibid., (Ibid.,, 19, 36) et évoque, peut-être, la tunique Ibid., 2, 6 ; 18, 28) de l’agneau pascal (Ibid. sans couture du grand-prêtre jui (Ibid. ( Ibid.,, 19, 23). 66 J. J. Enz, ‘Origin o the Dualism Expressed by ‘Sons o Light’ and ‘Sons o Darkness’ ‘, Biblical Research, Research, 21 (1976), 15–18 ; 22 (1977), 15–18 ; Et al. 67 D. Flusser, ‘the Sons o Light in Jesus’ eaching and in the New estament’, Biblical Archaeology oday , (1985), 427–428. 68 A moins, que l’on ne parvienne parvienne à démontrer démontrer des accointances accointances conceptuelles conceptuelles entre la théologie qumranienne et des idées en vogue dans l’univers païen contemporain, ce qui demande étude. C. M. Broshi & H. Eshel, ‘A Reply to Knohl’s Rejoinder’, arbiz ,
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Une empreinte païenne sur le personnage de Paul, puis dans les écrits pauliniens, n’est pas a priori priori inconcevable. Originaire de arse en Cilicie sa langue maternelle devait être le grec ; dans ses lettres on y décèle notamment des traits oratoires grecs. Son rapport vis-à-vis de la religion juive est ambigu. Il vénère effectivement la loi des Juis tout en la condamnant simultanément. 69 Le texte de Paul à l’Aréopage d’Athènes est destiné à des philosophes épicuriens et stoïciens et semble prouver les connaissances de Paul sur le paganisme grec.70 L’ambiance païenne propre aux estivités polythéistes en l’honneur des dieux du paganisme transparaît71 lorsque les oules de Lystra croient distinguer parmi elles Zeus et Hermès en rencontrant Barnabé et Paul. 72 C’est pour se protéger que Paul se rase la tête en s’embarquant pour la Syrie73 sans doute pour ressembler aux Syriens, qui partageaient largement la coutume religieuse d’offrir leur chevelure aux divinités syriennes. 74 Les connaissances de Paul concernant le paganisme anatolien apparaissent nettement lorsqu’il ustige les adeptes de l’ Artemis Artemis Ephesia Ephesia montrant le danger d’une dévotion engagée au service du culte officiel. 75 Ainsi que l’écrit R. E. Brown à propos de la question des connaissances de Paul de arse à propos du paganisme : « Il ne put ignorer la religion des ‘gentils’ au milieu desquels il vivait . . . il dut avoir quelque connaissance, probablement partiale et négative des mythes païens et des êtes religieuses civiques gréco-romaines. Comme nous le verrons en 70 (2001), XIII–XIV: “It is unthinkable that an extreme isolationist Jewish sect [= the Essenes] will borrow basic religious concepts rom pagan cult.” 69 En Romains 3, 31, Paul exalte la Loi, la considère notamment spirituelle (7, 14), et accomplie (8, 4). Il insiste d’ailleurs sur l’importance des commandements (13, 8–10 ; Galates, Galates, 5, 14). Cela dit, aucun homme ne sera justi�é aux yeux du Créateur par l’accomplissement de la Loi (Romains ( Romains,, 3, 20). Celle-ci provoque le courroux (4, 15) et se trouve à la source du péché (5, 20 ; Galates, Galates, 3, 19). 70 Actes, Actes, 17, 17–31 : “Quelques philosophes épicuriens et stoïciens se mirent à parler avec lui. Et les uns disaient : Que veut dire ce discoureur ? D’autres, l’entendant annoncer Jésus et la résurrection, disaient : Il semble qu’il annonce des divinités étrangères. Alors ils le prirent, et le menèrent à l’Aréopage, en disant : Pourrions-nous savoir quelle est cette nouvelle doctrine que tu enseignes ? . . . Paul, debout au milieu de l’Aréopage, dit : Hommes Athéniens, je vous trouve à tous égards extrêmement religieux. Car, en parcourant votre ville et en considérant les objets de votre dévotion, j’ai même découvert un autel avec cette inscription : A un dieu inconnu ! Ce que vous révérez sans le connaître, c’est ce que je vous annonce.” outeois, il aut rappeler que selon Actes selon Actes,, 17, 16 “. . . il (= Paul) sentait au dedans de lui son esprit s’irriter, à la vue de cette ville (= Athènes) pleine d’idoles.” 71 Actes, Actes, 14, 11–18. 72 Ibid . 73 Actes, Actes, 18, 18. 74 Friedheim, (Supra (Supra,, n. 32), 374. 75 Actes, Actes, 19, 23–40.
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étudiant ses lettres, l’idée qu’il ait pu emprunter beaucoup aux religions à mystères est exagérée ; mais même les non-initiés pouvaient avoir souvent une idée générale de leurs conceptions et de leurs thèmes. »76 Une critique virulente du polythéisme entraînant la débauche est attribuée à Paul,77 et dans la lettre aux Colossiens, Colossiens, Paul demande à ses interlocuteurs de ne pas se laisser leurrer par une « philosophie » toute humaine,78 réérence vraisemblable aux religions à mystères, désignées parois comme philosophies, mais peut-être ne s’agit-il que d’une composante juive. 79 Pour en revenir à l’utilisation du terme ‘mystères’ dans les écrits pauliniens évoquée en amont de cette étude, la recherche historique a prouvé, en réalité, depuis longtemps que ce terme n’est nullement exclusi aux cultes à mystères. Il semble, en l’occurrence, traduire davantage une conception sémitique,80 autrement dit des secrets propres au divin inconnus des hommes. On notera également que tant les textes de Qumran 81 que ceux de la littérature Brown, (Supra (Supra,, n. 42), 468–469. Romains, Romains, 1, 23–32 : “ et ils ont changé la gloire du Dieu incorruptible en images représentant l’homme corruptible, des oiseaux, des quadrupèdes, et des reptiles. C’est pourquoi Dieu les a livrés à l’impureté, selon les convoitises de leurs cœurs ; en sorte qu’ils déshonorent eux-mêmes leurs propres corps . . .” 78 Colossiens, Colossiens, 2, 8 : “Prenez garde que personne ne asse de vous sa proie par la philosophie et par une vaine tromperie, s’appuyant sur la tradition des hommes, sur les rudiments du monde, et non sur Christ. [ βλέπετε μή τις ὑμᾶς ἔσται ὁ συλαγωγῶν διὰ τῆς φιλοσοφίας καὶ κενῆς ἀπάτης κατὰ τὴν παράδοσιν τῶν ἀνθρώπων, κατὰ τὰ στοιχεῖα τοῦ κόσμου καὶ οὐ κατὰ Χριστόν·]” 79 Puisque Flavius Josèphe désigne également les courants religieux juis (Pharisiens, Sadducéens et Esséniens) de son temps par le terme de “philosophies”, c. Idem, de Bello Iudaico, Iudaico, 2, 8, 2 ; Idem, (Supra (Supra,, n. 25), 18, 1, 2. 80 R. E. Brown, ‘Te Pre-Christian Pre-Christian Semitic Concept o ‘Mystery’ ‘Mystery’ ‘, CBQ, CBQ, 20 (1958), 417–443 ; Idem, ‘Te Semitic Background o the New estament Mysterion estament Mysterion (I)’, (I)’, Biblica, Biblica, 39 (1958), 426–448 ; Idem, ‘Te Semitic Background o the New estament Mysterion (II)’, Biblica, Biblica, 40 (1959), 70–87 ; Idem Te Semitic Background o the erm “Mystery” in the New estament , (Facet Biblical Series, 21) Philadelphia : Fortress 1968 ; H. Rahner, in : J. Campbell (ed.), Pagan and Christian Mysteries, Mysteries, New York 1963, 148–178. Selon C. C. Caragounis, Te Ephesian Mysterion, “mystère” Mysterion, Uppsala 1977, le terme “mystère” apparaissant chez Paul est à rapprocher de l’usage du terme “mysterion “ mysterion”” dans le livre de Daniel, donc à un contexte jui hellénisé. 81 F. Schmidt, ‘Le mazzal et le mérite du estament d’Abraham à Rabbi Aqiba’, in : E. ov & M. Bar-Asher (eds.), Meghillot – Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls, Scrolls, V–VI, A Festschrif or Devorah Dimant , Haia – Jerusalem 2007, 117*–118*. Voir également les conclusions de Brown, (Supra ( Supra,, n. 42), 684–685 : “Dans un tableau d’ensemble, la perspective de Éphésiens (= à l’égard du terme “mystères”) peut donc s’expliquer par l’emprun de l’écrivain aux Écritures, par les développements de la pensée juive dans le monde hellénistique, et les croyances chrétiennes, en particulier telles quelles sont énoncées dans la tradition paulinienne. Il n’y a donc pas lieu d’en appeler aux religions païennes à mystères ou au gnosticisme comme acteur essentiel de sa composition.” 76 77
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talmudique utilisent cette notion en ce sens. 82 Paul de arse condamnait la participation des chrétiens à des tables d’autel païennes où l’on offrait des sacri�ces, ainsi qu’il est rapporté dans la première Epître aux Corinthiens 10, Corinthiens 10, 21 où nous lisons : « Vous ne pouvez boire la coupe du Seigneur et la coupe des démons ; vous ne pouvez participer à la table du Seigneur et à la table des démons. » Cependant, partant du principe de l’inexistence des dieux du paganisme, Paul est d’avis que le ait de consommer la viande sacri�cielle n’était pas un acte idolâtre. Cela dit, puisque ceux qui ne partageaient pas cette opinion (rapportés en Galates II, 12, où ce genre de repas était l’objet de débats) pouvaient considérer qu’ils enreignaient un commandement en consommant ce genre de nourriture, Paul semble avoir pris en considération leur conscience en affirmant notamment : « Pour ce qui est donc de manger des viandes sacri�ées aux idoles, nous savons qu’il n’y a point d’idole dans le monde et qu’il n’y a qu’un seul Dieu » Et après avoir soutenu l’idée selon laquelle manger un aliment ne peut ni rapprocher ni éloigner de Dieu, il conclut en ces termes : « Si quelqu’un te voit, toi qui as de la connaissance, assis à table, dans un temple d’idoles, sa conscience, à lui qui est aible, ne le portera-t-elle pas à manger des viandes sacri�ées aux idoles ? . . . En péchant de la sorte contre les rères . . . vous péchez contre Christ. C’est pourquoi, si un aliment scandalise mon rère, je ne mangerai jamais de viande » (Corinhiens ( Corinhiens,, I, 8, 10–13).83 En bre, en dépit de leurs origines à la ois juive et hellénistique, les textes pauliniens dévoilent une connaissance élargie des coutumes païennes, condamnées ermement tout au long de ces épîtres. IV Si l’on considère, avec notamment l’historien israélien David Flusser, 84 Jésus comme étant jui aisant partie d’une des nombreuses mouvances juives (pharisiens, ou esséniens) caractérisant c aractérisant la société juive pluraliste p luraliste S. Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine – Studies in the Literary ransmission Belies and Manners o Palestine in the I Century BCE–IV Century CE, CE , New York 1962, 119 : “Te Greek word μυστήριον requently occurs in rabbinic literature, and it sometimes means mystery in its religious connotation.” ; Ibid., Ibid., n. 19 : “Although it ofen means merely “a secret” . . . the Rabbis also used it as a technical term. So, or instance, circumcision is the mystery o God. . . .” 83 L’apocalypse 2, 14 ; 20 est encore bien plus vindicative en condamnant sans exception la consommation de viandes consacrées aux idoles. 84 Flusser, (Supra (Supra,, n. 29). 82
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de la �n de l’époque du second temple, il est possible d’envisager que le regard de Jésus et de ses premiers disciples à l’égard du paganisme ambiant ne différait globalement pas du regard porté par la société juive dans son ensemble vis-à-vis du monde cultuel polythéiste. Autrement dit, la question des prétendues in�uences païennes sur le christianisme primiti doit, à notre avis, être méthodologiquement abordée dans le cadre de la problématique traitant d’éventuelles in�uences païennes sur le judaïsme intertestamentaire, et particulièrement au premier siècle de l’ère commune. Or, il s’avère que le rapport des Juis à l’égard du paganisme avant la destruction du sanctuaire en 70, ut extrêmement strict. Peu de temps avant sa mort, en 4 a. C., Hérode le Grand provoqua de sévères émeutes à Jérusalem après avoir placé l’effigie d’un aigle doré sur les portes du temple. 85 Les Juis de Judée étaient prêts à accomplir le sacri�ce suprême plutôt que de tolérer les armées auxiliaires de Ponce Pilate (vers 30), siègeant à Jérusalem avec leurs étendards, arborant le portrait de l’empereur romain.86 Cette provocation politico-religieuse poussa les Juis à s’adresser à l’empereur ibère en personne, lequel somma Pilate de réintégrer les étendards dans la colonie de Césarée-Maritime.87 Partant combattre Arétas le Nabatéen, en 37, le proconsul de Syrie, Vitellius, contourna avec ses deux légions le territoire judéen, à la demande des Juis, pour ne pas les offenser avec les étendards à images. C’est en aisant un détour signi�cati, par la grande plaine du littoral palestinien ortement hellénisé, que Vitellius s’en alla guerroyer en Nabatène. 88 Le décret anti-jui visant à introduire la statue de l’empereur Caligula au sein du temple de Jérusalem en 40 provoqua, tant l’indignation des juis de Palestine que celle de la Diaspora juive hellénistique. 89 Josèphe lui-même semble être extrêmement rigoriste au regard des lois juives concernant les images. Il reproche avec véhémence au roi Salomon d’avoir transgressé le second commandement du décalogue, 90 en introduisant au
Josèphe, de Bello Iudaico, Iudaico, 1, 33, 2. Ibid., Ibid., 2, 9, 2 ; Idem, Antiquitates Idem, Antiquitates Iudaicarum, Iudaicarum, 18, 3, 1. 87 Philon d’Alexandrie, Legatio ad Caium, Caium, 38. 88 Josèphe, Antiquitates Josèphe, Antiquitates Iudaicarum, Iudaicarum, 18, 5, 3. 89 Philon d’Alexandrie, Legatio ad Caium. Caium. Sur cette affaire voir notamment les travaux suivants : P. Bilde, ‘Te Roman Emperor Gaius Caligula’s Attempt to Erect his Statue in the emple o Jerusalem’, Studia Teologica, Teologica, 32/1 (1978), 67–93 ; N. H. aylor, ‘Opposition to Caligula in Jewish Palestine’, Journal or the Study o Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman Period , 32/1 (2001), 54–70. Et al. 90 Exode, Exode, 20, 4 ; Deutéronome, Deutéronome, 4, 16 ; 27, 15. 85 86
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sein du premier temple des images de bœus et de lions, 91 tandis que ni le corpus biblique92 ni même la tradition talmudique tardive,93 ne taxent Salomon d’idolâtrie pour avoir placé ces effigies dans le sanctuaire. Dans son autobiographie, Josèphe écrit : « Lorsqu’ils [= les Juis de Galilée] s’approchèrent de moi, Juste de ibériade était parmi eux. Je leur déclarai que les prêtres et moi-même avions été chargés par les autorités de Jérusalem de détruire le palais qu’avait bâti Hérode Antipas, car il y avait des �gures représentant des animaux, chose interdite par la Loi. » 94 On a suggéré que la position rigoriste à l’égard des images partagée par Josèphe, trouve son origine dans la mouvance essénienne,95 qui prônait également une action erme à l’égard des images contrairement aux Pharisiens/Rabbanites.96 À la différence de l’époque qui suivit la destruction du second temple et ce jusqu’au IV ème siècle, durant laquelle on rencontre des Juis in�uencés considérablement par l’entourage païen,97 nous sommes d’avis que cela ne ut nullement le cas pour la période qui précéda la dévastation du sanctuaire jui et de Jérusalem en 70, ainsi que l’attestent les exemples précités.98 Le syncrétisme ambiant entrave, en réalité, la tentative menée antérieurement de considérer comme païen plusieurs éléments rencontrés dans le Nouveau estament. Comme nous l’avons vu, la notion de mystères est connu du Judaïsme qumranien et du monde rabbinique. La notion d’illumination et de lumière à l’annonce de l’au-delà n’est Josèphe, Antiquitates Josèphe, Antiquitates Iudaicarum, Iudaicarum, 8, 7, 5. Reg., Reg., 1, 7, 25 ; 10, 20. 93 almud de Babylone [= B B]] Yoma 58b ; B Zevahim 62b. 94 Josèphe, Vita, Vita, 12. 95 E. Friedheim, ‘Quelques acettes esséniennes chez Flavius Josèphe et la mystérieuse absence de l’historien de la littérature rabbinique’, Studies in Religion, Religion, 28/4 (1999), 472–476. 96 Ibid. Concernant les positions pharisiennes condescendantes vis-à-vis des images, c. par exemple : osefa ‘Avoda Zara, Zara, 5, 2 (éd. Zuckermandel, 468) ; J ‘Avoda Zara, Zara, III, 2, 42c ; 42d ; J Sanhédrin 10, Sanhédrin 10, 6, 29c ; B Pessahim, Pessahim, 104a. 97 Friedheim, (Supra (Supra,, n. 32), 25–67. 98 Cela dit, certaines in�uences in�uences non-juives sont décelables. décelables. Le temple hérodien ut ainsi construit selon un type hellénistique et romain, c. L. I. Levine, Jerusalem in its Glory – Te History o the City in the Second emple Period , Jerusalem 1998, 120. (héb.) ; Certaines coutumes païennes menacèrent de pénétrer le culte jui du sanctuaire [c. Mishna Ma’asser Sheni, Sheni, 5, 15 ; osefa Sota, Sota, 13, 9 (éd. Lieberman, 233)] et parois y réussirent, c. Mishna Bikourim, Bikourim, 3, 3. Voir à ce propos : Y. Baer, Israel among the Nations – An Essay on the History o the Period o the Second emple and the Mishna and on the Foundations o the Halacha and Jewish Religion, Religion , Jerusalem 1955, 75 ; Lieberman, (Supra ( Supra,, n. 81); E. Friedheim, ‘How Jewish Society in Eretz Israel Conronted the Challenge o Music in the Roman Period?’, Cathedra Quarterly , 132 (2009), 61–64 (héb). 91 92
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nullement étrangère à la tradition rabbinique, 99 ni celle bien évidemment des anges, ou encores des estins idolâtres condamnés également par la littérature des Sages. 100 Ces convergences doivent peut-être nous inciter à revoir notre jugement, pour ne parler en substance que d’in�uences majoritairement juives sur le christianisme juvénile ? ! Aussi, pour bien saisir l’enchevêtrement intellectuel auquel l’historien des religions doit aire ace a�n de discerner la part des in�uences et des origines dans ces phénomènes religieux complexes, on rapportera un passage des écrits de Cumont d’une puissance inspiratrice : “La notion ἵδρυσις n’était pas . . . propre aux Indo-Européens. Elle existe chez les d’ ἵδρυσις Sémites suivant lesquels il y a une présence, une inhabitation (hebr. Sekinah, Sekinah, arabe : sakinat , ass. Sakanu) Sakanu) du dieu dans son trône (motab ( motab)) ou dans son autel ( ) . . . Ainsi obtient-on que Yahweh soit parmi son peuple (Reg (Reg I, 8, 57) . . . C’est bien à l’égard de Dieu, l’équivalent de l’ ἵδρυσις grecque : mais on retrouve aussi dans cette cérémonie les traits qui caractérisent la constitution de la domus aeterna, aeterna, lorsque, réunissant les restes dans le tombeau, on y �xe l’ombre avec eux : animamque sepulcro condimus (Enéïde, Enéïde, 3, 67–68). Et le parallélisme est rigoureux puisque de même qu’on appelle Yahweh pour qu’il vienne prendre possession du abernacle ou du emple (Nombres (Nombres 10, 35–6 ; Psaumes 132, 8) de même une dernière ois – précisément pour l’attirer dans sa domus aeterna – on adresse au mort un suprême appel : et magna supremum voce ciemus (En., En., 3, 68). C’est à cette conception de la survie, non dans les espaces célestes ni dans l’Hadès, mais dans la sépulture elle-même, que se rattache le culte des Parentalia. Parentalia. Il est passé quelque chose de ces idées dans le christianisme. Non pas peut-être dès l’origine, où l’inhabitation du Seigneur dans l’Eglise est d’ordre proprement, strictement spirituel, Mt. spirituel, Mt.,, 18, 20 : “car où deux ou trois sont assemblés en mon nom, je suis là au milieu d’eux”. exte qui apparaît capital à qui veut bien se souvenir de l’assimilation que le Christ selon Matthieu ait de lui-même à l’Auteur de la Loi, 5, 21 : “Vous avez entendu qu’il a été dit aux anciens . . . et moi, je vous dis . . .” ; 5, 17 : car “je ne suis pas venu abroger mais accomplir” ; de telle sorte que, pour comprendre en sa plénitude le sens du “je suis là au milieu d’eux”, il n’est que de le rapprocher de son parallèle talmudique, Pirqé Aboth, Aboth, 3, 8 :
Parmi de très nombreuses nombreuses occurrences occurrences talmudiques on retiendra, retiendra, à titre d’exemples, les sources suivantes : B Souka 21a ; B Baba Bathra, Bathra, 10a. Et al. 100 Voir notamment notamment ; Mishna ‘Avoda Zara, Zara, 1, 3 ; Friedheim, (Supra, n. 32), 375–378. 99
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“Et d’où vient que lorsque dix hommes s’assemblent pour prier [c’est le minian], minian], la sekinah est sekinah est au milieu d’eux ? . . .” D’où il résulte que dès l’origine le Christ glori�é a été considéré par les chrétiens comme la réalité spirituelle dont la sekinah sekinah avait été la orme impersonnelle et abstraite. Et c’est sans doute ainsi que s’est concrétisée plus tard, sous les in�uences conjuguées du sémitisme et de l’aryanisme, l’idée que sa présence résidait dans l’autel, De Sacramentis, Sacramentis, 5, 2, 7 (PL (PL,, 16, col. 447) : “Quid est autem altare nisi orma corporis Christi ?”. 101 Cette démarche scienti�que est susceptible de nous guider pour solutionner le problème abordé. Un composant religieux universel commun simultanément aux cultures païennes (grecques, romaines et sémitiques conondues) et juive, achevant sa course au sein du christianisme, ne prouve pas nécessairement que cet élément rituel, désormais chrétien, puisât sa source dans le monde polythéiste ambiant. Différemment dit, en partageant la thèse de Flusser sur les origines ondamentalement juives du christianisme primiti, nous n’avons pu déceler d’in�uences païennes atalement répercutées sur les synoptiques, qui n’aient connu de points d’ancrages similaires dans le judaïsme contemporain, issu du mouvement pharisien, essénien voire du monde conceptuel judéo-hellénistique de Philon d’Alexandrie. Quand bien même, décèlerait-on quelques in�uences païennes dans les plus anciens textes évangéliques, que nous serions davantage enclin à conclure à une in�uence païenne sur le judaïsme intertestamentaire, judaïsée au cours du temps.102 Soit une empreinte païenne, perçue comme juive depuis longtemps, aboutissant au I er siècle dans les synoptiques au mépris de ses éventuelles réminiscences polythéistes avoisinantes. Ce n’est qu’à partir du moment, où le christianisme sollicita principalement des “pagano-chrétiens” [IIe–Ve siècles], que – d’une part – l’offensive de l’Église contre le paganisme s’intensi�a et que le polythéisme en détresse parvint – d’autre part – à survivre au travers de nombreux rites et traditions chrétiennes.
Cumont, (Supra (Supra,, n. 22), 438, 439, 440. Supra, Supra, n. 98.
101 102
JEWISH�CHRISIAN CONACS IN HE SECOND AND HIRD CENURIES C.E. ? HE CASE OF CARHAGE; ERULLIAN AND HE MISHNAH’S VIEWS ON IDOLARY* Stéphanie E. Binder Te present study inquires into the connections that may have existed between Jews and Christians in the second and third centuries C.E. o address this question, we will compare two texts on idolatry—the De Idololatria Idololatria o the Carthaginian Church Father ertullian and the roughly contemporaneous Mishnah Mishnah Avodah Zarah. Zarah. Both works were written to guide monotheists in living their lives o truth in an idolatrous environment. Since they are inormative regarding JewishChristian relations at a given place and time, they may also shed light on such relations elsewhere and at other times. Here we discuss the Carthaginian Christians and links between Carthaginian and Palestinian Jews, pointing out some o the resemblance between De Idololatria and Mishnah Avodah Mishnah Avodah Zarah and Zarah and begining to account or some o the differences. Finally, we will take up the broader question o the extent to which Jews and Christians, not only in Carthage, were either dierent and isolated rom each other or similar and intermingled in the late second and early third centuries C.E. W�� W��� ��� C����������� C��������� ? In 35 B.C.E, Carthage became the seat o the Roman provincial governor and hence the administrative center o the province o Arica. Tereafer, Carthage and Rome were closely bound to one another. Tere was no official religion or central active involvement or supervision o religious practice in Carthage; 1 hence, individuals were ree to
* I would like to thank pro. Ranon Katzoff and pro. Albert Baumgarten (Bar-Ilan University) or their advice on this topic. 1 J. B. Rives, Religion and Authority in Roman Carthage rom Augustus to Constantine (Oxord 1995) 169. See also David Rankin, ertullian and the Church (Oxord: Clarendon Press, 1995) 246.
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believe and worship as they wished, allowing or the development o a prousion o cults. Christianity was one o the religions that took root in Carthage, although, as imothy Barnes ultimately concludes, no one really knows how Christianity reached North Arica, while William eler and Paul Monceaux argue or multiaceted origins o various Christian groups in Carthage.2 René Braun contends that Carthage was open to Oriental, as well as Roman in�uences and tends to think that Christianity arrived through missionaries rom Rome, even perhaps through the Carthaginian Jewish community.3 Fredouille asserts that the Arican Church seems closer to the East than to the Occident, but nevertheless he acknowledges that there was a mixture o Roman traditions with Oriental intellectual and religious trends. 4 Rives offers two similar options: Christianity may have come to Arica rom Rome, seeing the close connection between Rome and Carthage, but it may also have arrived rom the East. Rives insists that there is evidence o relations between the Christians o the little inland city o Lugdunum and Asia and Phrygia. Carthage, being a large open harbor at the time, was almost certainly linked with the East, and merchants could discuss or even import Christian belies, as it were, through this open portal. Moreover, Arican liturgy is more like that o the East than that o Rome.5 Frend believes that Christianity surely arrived through the Jewish community and rom Eastern in�uences, offering as evidence o Oriental in�uences the Semitic cult o Saturn Baal Hamon, which dominated traditional religious lie in Carthage.6 Barnes, on the other
2
. D. Barnes, ertullian (Oxord: Clarendon Press, 1985) 68; W. eler, “Te Origins o Christianity in Arica,” Studia Patristica 4 (1961) 516, suggests that Christianity in Arica stems rom different origins and that several different Christian groups merged in Carthage. Monceaux’s statement that the origins o the Arican churches were not single or even double, but in act multiple, is still the leading theory. See P. Monceaux, Histoire littéraire de l’Arique chrétienne I (Paris, 1901) 8–9. 3 R. Braun, Approches de ertullien: vingt-six études sur l’auteur et sur l’œuvre (Paris: Institut d’études augustiniennes, 1992) 2. 4 J.-C. Fredouille, ertullien et la conversion de la culture antique (Paris: Etudes augustiniennes, 1972) 271. 5 J. B. Rives, Religion and Authority 225. 6 W. H. C. Frend, Te Rise o Christianity (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984) 348 and W. H. C. Frend, “A Note on ertullian and the Jews” Studia Patristica 10 (1970) 292. In “Jews and Christians in Tird Century Carthage,” in Paganisme, Judaïsme, Christianisme. In�uences et affrontements dans le monde antique. Mélanges offerts à Marcel Simon (Paris: Editions E. de Boccard, 1978) 185–194, Frend also states ollowing Quispel’s theories that the Christian community o Carthage developed out
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hand, envisages another possibility: perhaps Jewish pilgrims brought Christianity back rom Palestine to Carthage.7 ertullian, or his part, never speaks about the beginnings o the Arican Church, indicating that he probably knew nothing about them and that they date rom well beore his conversion (c. 197–98 C.E.). In act, ertullian tries to give the impression that North Arican Christians are numerous: “i all the Christians in Carthage were to be executed,” he writes, “the city would be depopulated.”8 As in the rest o the Roman Empire, the Christians in Carthage sometimes lived reely and sometimes suffered rom persecution. Te the �rst dated attestation o an event involving Arican Christians is the report on the trial o the Scilitan martyrs in 180 C.E. Regardless o its origins, the Christian community in Carthage was very much like Carthaginian society at large. First, like the cities themselves, the Churches o Rome and Carthage were in continuous contact and were at the oreront o Latin Christianity as a whole. 9 Second, the Carthaginian Church was characterized by pluralism. Braun10 describes an Arican Christianity open to sectarian propaganda coming rom Rome or rom the East, and Rives speaks o “several different Christian groups in Carthage rather than one Christian community.”11 Te very act that ertullian wrote against the numerous heretics with whom he disagreed shows he had a direct and localized interest in discrediting them. Although the Romans and Carthaginians were on good terms, Frend and Braun 12 suggest an inverse relationship
o the Jewish one and kept many eatures and close links with the Jews o the city. Concerning Semitico-Punic Ba’al and Adon as names or the North Arican Saturnus, Diaspora, Jews amidst Greeks and Romans (Cambridge MA: Harvard see E. S. Gruen, Diaspora, Jews University Press, Press, 2002) 155. 7 . D. Barnes, ertullian 64. 8 ertullian, Ad Scapulam 5.2. 9 ertullian, De Praescriptione 36; the Church o Carthage takes the Church o Rome as a model. 10 R. Braun, Approches de ertullien 9. 11 J. B. Rives, Religion 228. 12 W. H. C. Frend, Te Rise 348: “Romanization o their chie God (o the Carthaginians) alienated some o his worshippers and made them think o a Christian alternative.” See also David Wilhite, ertullian the Arican (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2007), about ertullian’s non-Roman-ness and Arican-ity, despite his accommodation o much rom Graeco-Roman literature, laws, and customs. See also G. Schöllgen, “Der Adressatenkreis der grieschischen Schauspielschrif ertullians,” Jahrbuch ür Antike und Christentum 25 (1982) 22–27, about the possible oriental audience that ertullian addressed in Greek beore he began to write in Latin.
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between Christianization and Romanization in Carthage: Christianity might have been the alternative chosen in response to, indeed, in rejection o the romanization o North Arica. According to Braun,13 everything that ertullian wrote was polemical because he probably became a Christian in order to deny Roman civilization and ideology, as a orm o revenge. Tis could be one o the explanations or ertullian’s severe condemnation o the involvement o Christians in their pagan environment. ertullian led his own community in Carthage and sought to make it the only Christian group in that city. His opposition to Judaism was similar in spirit to his rejection o other Christian sects, or he wished to lead the only legitimate monotheistic group in Carthage. J��� �� C�������: B������ P�������� ��� ��� D������� What kind o Judaism and which Jews could ertullian have encountered in Carthage, and what was the general relationship between the Jews o Palestine and those o the Diaspora at the end o the second and beginning o the third thi rd century? Beore the destruction o the emple in Jerusalem, a tax was paid to the capital by Jews everywhere, and pilgrimages to the emple were routine. 14 Nevertheless, well beore the destruction o the emple, lie in the Diaspora was organized independently o the unctioning o the emple. In act, in Palestine itsel, the Pharisaic movement tended to ocus Judaism around the law and not around the emple.15 Tereore, as Gruen asserts, the destruction o the emple had little or no in�uence upon the everyday lie o the Jews o the Diaspora.16 In the cities o the Diaspora, as 13
R. Braun, Approches de ertullien 19–22. Tis is a act well established throughout the scholarly literature; see, or instance, J. Barclay, Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora (Edinburg, Scotland: & Clark, 1996) 422, and E. S. Gruen, Diaspora 121. 15 M. Simon, Verus Israël, étude sur les relations entre chrétiens et Juis dans l’Empire romain (135–425) (Paris: E. De Boccard, 1964) 27. See, as well, Daniel Schwartz’ article, “Te Jews o Egypt between the emple o Onias, the emple o Jerusalem, and Heaven,” Center and Diaspora, Y. Gani ed. (Jerusalem 2004) 48, 54 . , : ,“ ” ) . , , , ), where he demonstrates the Egyptian Jews’ lack o interest " in the emple and in sacri�ces. 16 E. S. Gruen, Diaspora 135, 234. 14
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in the mixed cities o Palestine, Jews needed to reach a compromise between observance o their ancestral traditions and leading a normal lie where they resided. Annette Reed emphasizes that, in act, in the cities o the Diaspora, “Jews and pagans lived amidst and among each other.”17 Te non-Jewish population was attracted by the synagogue, and the Jews accepted the presence o the curious native onlookers, with whom they wished to be on neighborly terms, in their synagogue activities. Although open to all, the synagogue nevertheless secured Jewish interests and “negotiated a path between integration [in the surrounding society] and segregation to serve the sacral and secular needs o Jewish society in Diaspora settings.”18 Tus, maintaining a Jewish identity in the Diaspora implies both knowing how to manage one’s lie within a pagan environment and the active practice o Judaism. O course, some Jews severed their links with their ancestral aith and assimilated into their host culture, but, or those who remained loyal to their aith, one component o Jewish identity consisted o an attachment to Palestine and to Jerusalem in particular. Te link with Palestine was involved undamentally in the unctioning o Jewish lie common to the entire Diaspora. Gatherings bound each community together,19 throughout the world the same Jewish estivals were celebrated, and the same characteristic laws were observed, including circumcision, Shabbat observance, and dietary laws. Moreover, as can be observed rom Mishnah rosh Mishnah rosh hashannah, hashannah, or instance, the Palestinian rabbis sought to set the Jewish calendar or the entire Jewish population all over the world. Barclay states that, even early in the history o the Diaspora, many synagogues were physically oriented toward Jerusalem. 20 Fine summarizes the situation, saying that 17
Te Ways Tat Never Parted: Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity and the Early Middles Ages, A. H. Becker and A. Y. Reed, eds., exts and studies in Ancient Judaism 95 (ubigen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003) 52, 56. 18 E. S. Gruen, Diaspora 121. 19 J. Barclay, Jews 416–417. 20 J. Barclay, Jews 422; the pilgrimages to the place o the emple o Jerusalem that assured a close connection between the Diaspora and the center were orbidden afer the Roman destruction o the emple, and this is one o ertullian’s strongest arguments or the truth o Christianity in his arguments against the Jews. See Adversus Judaeos 3 and 13, or instance. Nevertheless, a rabbinic text, Midrash raba kohelet parasha 11, tells a story occurring afer the destruction, in which the Jews do make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem or their estivals. Tis might have been an error on the part o the writer, the text being late, but it may also testiy to continuation o the custom o going to Jerusalem despite the interdiction. I so, pilgrimages would still �gure on the list o evidence pointing to close links between Palestine and the Diaspora.
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“Diaspora communities participated in a ‘common Judaism’ related to the Judaism o every other community.” 21 On the political level, the authority o the Patriarch (the Nasi) is supposed to have made the Diaspora communities uniorm, but scholars are divided as to the real power o the Patriarch, his means o action, and his time o activity. According to Simon, 22 at the end o the second century, rabbinism spread throughout the Diaspora, and the Patriarch’s emissaries enorced loyalty to Judaism, as they envisaged it. Tey taught in the communities o the Diaspora with the aim o making Judaism uniorm, in line with the orthodox almudic ramework.23 Tese were the “traveling rabbis” who, according to Sarah Pearce and Sian Jones, are thought to have “administered or controlled” the Western Diaspora.24 Baer writes that the Patriarch’s authority was recognized and his emissaries well received during the third century. 25 In the opinion o Rives, during the third century the rabbis became “much more central to Jewish society in Palestine and the authority o the Patriarch was apparently widely recognized,” and his “apostle rabbis” were to be ound by the late ourth century.26 Tereore, the question o the link between Palestinian and Diaspora Judaism also involves the question o what kind o Judaism was prevalent in Palestine. Many scholars now doubt the authority o the rabbis
ertullian, Ad Nationes 1.13.4, states that the Christians pray toward the east; regarding this point, also see Clement o Alexandria Stromatae 7.7. 21 S. Fine, Art and Judaism in the Greco-Roman World: oward a New Jewish (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005) 214. For urther studies Archaeology (Cambridge: on “common Judaism,” see, among others, A. Mendelson, “Did Philo Say the Shemah ? And Other Re�ections on Sanders’ Judaism: Practice and Belie ,” ,” Te Studia Philonica Annual Studies Annual Studies in Hellenistic Judaism 6 (1994) 160–71; L. Feldman, Jew and and (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1993) 420; and Gentile in the Ancient World (New D. Goodblatt, Te Monarchic Principle: Studies in Jewish Sel-Government in Antiquity (ubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994) on the role o the Patriarch. 22 M. Simon, Verus Israël 54, 54, 210, 501. 23 See or instance A. Baumgarten, “Te Politics Politics o Reconciliation: Te Education o R. Judah the Prince,” as well as E. P. Sanders et al., eds., Jewish and Christian Selde�nition. Volume II: Aspects o Judaism in the Greco-Roman Period (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980) 213–225. 24 S. Jones and S. Pearce, “Introduction: Jewish Local Identities Identities and Patriotism in the Greco-Roman Period,” Jones, S. and Pearce, S., eds., Jewish Local Patriotism and (1998) 16. Sel-Identi�cation in the Greco-Roman Period (1998) 25 Y. Baer, “Israel, the Christian Church and the Roman Empire,” Studies in History , Alexander Fuks and Israel Halpern, eds. (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, the Hebrew University, 1961) 123. 26 J. B. Rives, Religion 266–267.
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in ancient Jewish society.27 Some claim that the rabbinic movement was no more important than any other stream o Judaism and that Jewish society was divided into several actions o equal strength. Tus, the almudic stories concerning the history o early rabbinism and claims that the antiquity o the movement went all the way back to Moses would be mere inventions to justiy the almudic rabbis’ demands or authority. 28 Along the same lines, other scholars assert that rabbinism, ar rom being central, was actually quite marginal, because Judaism as such scarcely even existed until it reappeared in the almudic period in answer to the development o Christianity.29 I those theories are accepted, rabbinic texts can be taken into account only to attest to rabbinic ideas, not to Judaism as a whole, rom the time o the destruction o the emple until, roughly speaking, the time o the editing o the Babylonian almud. At any rate, we assume that the ideas o the Mishnah were disseminated within rabbinic circles well beore the �nal redaction o the text in the third century—likely rom 70 C.E. on. Hence, with Rives, we must ask: “to what extent was the Jewish community in Carthage affected by religious developments in Palestine and notably the rise o rabbinic Judaism ?”30 In other words, were the Carthaginian Jews in contact with the Palestinian rabbis who laid down the rules concerning idolatry, and did they accept these rabbinic prescriptions ? Te answers to these questions will provide an indication o the kind o Jewish thought with which ertullian might have been amiliar and then enable us to see whether there are any indications o contact with these modes o thought in his writings. It is generally assumed that, because o its Semitic character, Carthage had a natural tendency to be riendly to Jewish culture. Simon even claims that Carthage was the center o Arican Judaism and that this was acilitated by the close connection between the Hebrew and Punic 27
Among them are Neusner, Shaye Cohen, Cohen, Schwartz, and Boyarin. See, especially, Boyarin, Boyarin, Border lines: the Partition o Judaeo-Christianity (Phila (Philadelphia Pa.: University o Pennsylvania Press, 2004), as well as Dying or God: Martyrdom and the Making o Christianity and Judaism (Stanord: Stanord University Press, 1999). 29 S. Schwartz, Imperialism and Jewish Society 200 B.C.E. to 640 C.E. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001), and S. Cohen, Te Beginnings o Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University o Caliornia Press, 1998), and “Te Signi�cance o Yavneh: Pharisees, Rabbis and the End o Jewish Sectarianism,” Hebrew Union College Annual 55 55 (1984) 27–53. 30 J. B. Rives, Religion 219. 28
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languages.31 While Hebrew was not the usual tongue o the Carthaginian Jews, who spoke Latin,32 nevertheless the strong Jewish population o Carthage still used Hebrew in ertullian’s time, 33 and most scholars acknowledge the link between Palestinian and Carthaginian Jews. 34 Te main arguments in avor o such a link are, in particular, the method o burying the dead in the Carthaginian Jewish cemetery o Gamarth, which seems to draw upon a tradition common to the Palestinian rabbis, which is later explicated in the Babylonian almud,35 and mention in both the Jerusalem and Babylonian almud o the names o some quali�ed rabbis as being “rom Carthage.” Regarding the implications o these acts, scholars are divided. For instance, Frend deduces rom them that Carthage had “some reputation as a rabbinic center,”36 whereas Rives claims that, even i the Jewish community o Carthage seemed to be aware o and avorable to Palestinian rabbinic developments, this is “different rom supposing that the rabbinic tradition was �ourishing in Carthage itsel.”37 Rives nevertheless explains that rabbis traveled rom Carthage to Palestine to study and later returned to Carthage, and that thereore “the development o rabbinic Judaism in Carthage lagged only slightly behind that o Palestine itsel.” 38 But the acts themselves are not taken or granted by all scholars. Even Aziza,
31
M. Simon, Verus Israël 352, Recherches d’histoire judéo-chrétienne (Paris: Mouton, 1962) 31–33. 32 R. Braun, Approches de ertullien 4 especially and passim; Y. LeBohec, “Inscriptions juives et judaïsantes de l’Arique romaine,” Antiquités Aricaines 17 (1981) 165–207 and “Juis et Judaïsants dans l’Arique romaine: remarques onomastiques,” Antiquités Aricaines 17 (1981) 209–229. 33 W. H. C. Frend, Te Rise 347, “Jews and Christians in Tird Century Carthage,” in Paganisme, Judaïsme, Christianisme. In�uences et affrontements dans le monde antique. Mélanges antique. Mélanges offerts à Marcel Simon (Paris: Editions E. de Boccard, 1978) 185– 194. Further details will be provided below in this article. 34 W. H. C. Frend, Te Rise passim and generally in his works, J. B. Rives, Reli gion 219–220, sM. Simon, Verus Israël , Recherches, C. Aziza, ertullien et le judaïsme (Paris: Belles Lettres,1977), which . Rajak, in “Te Jews Under Roman Rule: From Pompey to Diocletian; Prologomena to the Study o the Second Jewish Revolt (A.D. 132–135); ertullien et le judaïsme,” Journal o Roman Studies 69 (1979) 193, considers as “biased and ill-argued,” but which still remains the most extensive work concerning ertullian’s connections with the Jews and offers, in my opinion, many interesting and stimulating ideas. See also L. I. Levine, Te Ancient Synagogue (New Haven-London: Yale University Press, 2005) 303 n. 178. 35 Babylonian almud Babah Bathrah 100B-102B; unlike what appears, or example, in the Roman catacombs. 36 W. H. C. Frend, Te Rise 347. 37 J. B. Rives, Religion 220. 38 J. B. Rives, Religion 220.
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who tends to support the Carthaginian origin o the rabbis quoted as such in the two almuds, suggests in a note that the expression “rom Carthage” might be understood as meaning rom the Spanish Cartagena, where a Jewish community �ourished in the second century. 39 Arye Edrei and Doron Mendels40 go so ar as to suggest that, since those rabbis “rom Carthage” have a Palestinian mode o studying, they must be Palestinian. According to them, those rabbis’ amilies were originally rom Carthage—hence the reerence to their origins— and came to settle in Palestine, but the rabbis themselves have no other connection to Carthage. Arye Edrei and Doron Mendels’ article challenges what it terms the “scholarly claim o an ongoing connection between the Greekspeaking diaspora [sic] in the west and the center in Israel,”41 which is closer to the eastern Diaspora. It also claims that most o the Jews o the western Diaspora disappeared afer the destruction o the Second emple because they ailed to keep abreast with developments in Palestine. Te Northern Arican Carthage being tightly linked with Rome should indeed belong to the western Diaspora; however, since by ertullian’s time—a bit later than the period mainly dealt with by the quoted article—its Jews were Latin-speaking, and since the Semitic origins o the city were very characteristic o its culture, Carthage should be envisaged as a unique instance in the Diaspora world. It was neither a Greek-speaking community nor a part o the eastern Diaspora.42 Moreover, Carthage was a very important harbor city and open to in�uences rom all over the world. Consequently, in my opinion, there is no reason why Palestinian ideas could not have reached the city or why the Carthaginian Jews o the second century could be considered not as the heirs o the Jews who had settled in Carthage earlier but rather as newcomers who come to replace them. 43
39
C. Aziza, ertullien 15 n. 87. A. Edrei, D. Mendels, “A Split Jewish Diaspora: Its Dramatic Consequences” Journal or the Study o the Pseudepigraphia 16 (2007) 103 n. 18. 41 Edrei, Mendels, “A Split”, 130. 42 Constituted mainly by the countries o ransjordan, Egypt and and Babylon, Edrei, Mendels, “A Split”. Actually not only the Jews o Carthage were Latin speaking but the whole province was; see W. H. C. Frend, “Heresy and Schism as Social and National Movements”, Schism, Heresy and Religious Protest , Baker, ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972) 40. 43 It is generally claimed by the Jews o Djerba that a Jewish population population settled in this city afer the destruction o the First emple and joined other Jews there, who 40
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Even i Carthaginians themselves did not bring home the culture o Palestine, merchants and travelers44 coming rom Palestine would have been able to keep them inormed concerning developments there. Te ideas o the Mishnah must have been disseminated rom very early on, as stated above, so that by the time o ertullian they would have been crystallized, whether in written or oral orm. Tat is why the authors’ acknowledgment that there is “sporadic connection” between Palestine and the western Diaspora and their recognition that the Mishnah is “the cornerstone o orah Study”45 suffices or us to conclude that Carthaginian Jews must have been aware o the main tannaitic-rabtannaitic-rabbinic statements about idolatry. At any rate, the Jews who lef Palestine afer the destruction o the Second emple could also have brought inormation with them about rabbinic discussions and might even, themselves, have been rabbinic Jews. Attestations o rabbinic in�uences in Carthage might, rom another point o view, also be proo that the rabbinic movement had already prevailed by the time the Jews �ed rom Palestine soon afer the destruction o the Second emple. Edrei and Mendels also claim that the early western Diaspora could not have been aware o Palestinian developments because o a linguistic gap; here again, Carthage would be an exception, because, as noted above, at least some o the Carthaginian Jews spoke Hebrew.46 A �nal assertion rom the article, which is relevant here, is that, because the western Diaspora did not develop an oral law o its own,47 there was an opening or Christianity which, moreover, had an advantage over
had gone with the Phoenicians and helped to ound Carthage. Te synagogue o the Ghriba is deemed to date rom this period. More Jews would have come afer the destruction o the Second emple and the Jewish cemetery o Gamarth dates rom this period. A complete study on the Arican Jews in Antiquity can be ound in K. Stern, Inscribing Devotion and Death. Archaeological Evidence or Jewish Populations o North Arica (Leiden: Brill, 2008). 44 It is widely testi�ed that such people thronged the city and it is also attested in the two almuds that the rabbis and their disciples went to teach rom city to city and rom country to country. Even i stories about Rabbi Akiva or the Patriarch’s travels are mere legends (as well as Matthew’s accusation in 23.15 against the Pharisees who cross the seas to make converts and to diffuse their aith or Josephus’ story o the conversion o the royal amily o Adiabene in Antiquities 20.49–53), passages such as Babylonian almud Babah Bathra 8A, which mention students who tire o going rom place to place make one think that they could rather easily have reached nearby Carthage by sea. 45 Edrei, Mendels, “A Split”, 131. 46 And likely even Aramaic or those who escaped rom Palestine afer the destruction o the Second emple and according to some evidences ound in the cemetery. 47 Edrei, Mendels, “A Split”, 129.
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rabbinic studies because it was taught in Greek. Jews who thought they were catching up with new Palestinian religious developments might inadvertently have become Christians. However, contrary to Edrei and Mendels, I contend that the Jews in Carthage were closely connected to Palestine and its rabbinic movement. Tey did not need to develop an oral law o their own because they recognized Palestine as the center and accepted and relied upon the Palestinian rabbis’ juridical and other innovations. Te Jewish community o Carthage existed long beore the arrival o the �rst Christians, and the Carthaginian Jews easily and regularly kept aware o developments occurring in their homeland. Tus it seems clear that a strong Jewish group, which tended to accept rabbinic authority, was in place, awaiting, as it were, the con�ict with Christianity in Carthage, and it was not going to collapse with its appearance.48 Tereore, in his own city, ertullian must have met Jews at least partly affiliated with the Palestinian rabbis, who were amiliar with the main ideas o the Palestinian Mishnah Mishnah massekhet Avodah Zarah. Zarah. Trough contact with those Jews, ertullian would very likely have been aware o the Zarah while writing his rabbinic ideas in Mishnah massekhet Mishnah massekhet Avodah Zarah while own treatise on idolatry. Some Examples o Similarities and Differences between the De Idololatria and Idololatria and Mishnah Avodah Zarah A ully detailed comparison o both texts would exceed the bounds o the present publication.49 Here I present only a ew selected examples to show that ertullian probably was aware o the Mishnah’s positions concerning idolatry. F�������� ��� C����������� Te Mishnah begins: begins: “ ”—“And these are the estivals o the idolatrous: the Calends and the Saturnalia Saturnalia and the Kratesis. Kratesis. . . .50 Te Rabbis mentioned these 48
Te strongest proo o this remains the burial in Gamarth; C. Aziza, ertullien 31 tries to show rom ertullian’s writings that the Carthaginian Jewish community is “talmudiste avant la lettre; en un mot, de tendance pharisienne.” 49 Tis is the concern o my doctoral dissertation: ertullianus De Idolatria and Massekhet Avodah Zarah: Te Parting o the Ways ? Bar-Ilan Bar-Ilan University 2009. 50 Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.3. See Appendix.
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speci�c pagan estivals in order to reer to idolatrous religious estivals in general, as we �nd in Deuteronomy Rabba 7.7: “ .
”—“We have our estivals, you have your estivals. We have the Calends, the Saturnals and the Kratesis and you have Passover, Pentecost and the Feast o the abernacles.” Ten, the main estivals mentioned by the rabbis are the Saturnales and the Calends. It is generally accepted 51 that, or the rabbis, the Calends represent especially the Calends o January, which mark the Roman New Year Day. On the pagan estivals mentioned, the rabbis rule that Jews must not be in contact with idolaters or do business with them. For ertullian also, the main estivals a Christian must avoid include �rst and oremost the “Saturnalia “Saturnalia et kalendas Ianuarias”—“Te Ianuarias”—“Te Saturnalia and the New Year’s Day.”52 He wants people to avoid getting New Year’s gifs, munera et strenae, strenae,53 just as Resh Laqish wants Judah the Prince to dispose o the denar he he got rom a min, min, most likely as a New Year’s gif.54 A second analogy is to be ound in the treatment o garlands and other decorations on display in shops and houses or estivals. ertullian regards lamps and wreaths on entrance doors to be a sign o reverence to an idol: “lucernis “lucernis et laureis . . . idoli honor est ”—“lamps ”—“lamps and
51
D. Rosenthal, Mishnah Avodah, see E. Friedheim, Rabbinisme et paganisme en Palestine romaine. Etude historique des realia talmudiques (I er –IV ème siècles) (LeidenBoston: Brill, 2006) 334. 52 ertullian, De Idololatria 14.4, as well as ibid . 10 and 14.6. ertullianus De Idololatria, Waszink, J. H., and van Winden, J. C. M., eds. (Leiden: Brill, 1987) argue that ertullian looks at the Saturnalia and Calends o January, two ‘gif-days’, rom two different points o view. Te �rst shows the Christians’ taking part in heathen celebrations with the heathens themselves, and the second shows the Christians celebrating heathen estivals among themselves. Tey iner rom chapter 13.4: “Tere are certain days on which presents are given”, “ Sunt quidam dies munerum.” Tese Christians claimed the right to share in heathen estivities when they are part o a normal social behavior, and ertullian rejects this claim saying (15.1) that it is a hidden way or the Christians to conceal their Christian identity rom their idolatrous neighbors. In 14.6–7, they say that ertullian speaks o Christians celebrating the heathen estivals (“inter raters”, “among brethren”), probably giving presents to each other and having meals together on those special occasions, especially on the Saturnalia and Calends o January. 53 ertullian, De Idololatria 14.6. 54 Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 6B; concerning the strenae or coins o good luck wishes or the calends o January, see G. Blidstein, Rabbinic Legislation on Idolatry—ractate Abodah Zarah, Chapter 1 (New York: Yeshiva University, 1968) XX, 56–61.
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wreaths . . . [are] an idol’s honor”55 and orbids Christians to share in this practice; the Mishnah and osefa orbid the Jews to buy rom decorated shops because the wreaths prove that those shops take part in a air dedicated to a pagan god. Te two almuds discuss the reasons why the display o wreaths on shops makes it necessary to boycott them.56
55
ertullian, De Idololatria 15. Actually ertullian deals with all the reasons or which people would decorate their doors with lamps and wreaths and reaches the conclusion that such symbols can be only idolatrous. Schöllgen, “Die eilnahme der Christen am städtischen Leben,” Römische Quartalschrif ür christliche Altertumskunde und Kirchengeschichte 77 (1982) 18–19, states that some Christians did indeed decorate their doors with garlands on the days dedicated to estivals in honor o the Emperor, so as not to incur the accusation o disloyalty to the State. He nevertheless says more speci�cally that the majority o the Carthaginian Christian community did not comply with this practice, since ertullian still must justiy why Christians reuse to decorate their homes on the estivals dedicated to the Emperor in Apologeticum 35.4.Waszink and van Winden, ertullianus speciy that, or ertullian, lamps and wreaths are both o an idolatrous nature in and o themselves and that they are part o an idolatrous belie in the gods o the doors and that, as part o the decoration, they testiy to religious practices in honor o those gods. Nevertheless, in chapter 8.5, ertullian allows trade in wreaths as long as it is not in relation to idolatry. Waszink and van Winden, ertullianus, 155 remark that ertullian is always “dominated by that with which he is immediately concerned,” ertullian deals separately with each o the subjects he wants to broach. He sometimes contradicts himsel rom one paragraph to another; using the same arguments and examples or different purposes, he interprets them differently in each case. Tis is also Schöllgen’s opinion. 56 Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.4; Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 39d, Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 12B, 13A. Te concern o both the Mishnah and the two almuds is to prevent the Jews rom bene�ting rom idolatry. Te Babylonian almud 13A states that shops taking part in the air get a reduction on the taxes they have to pay, and in order to show clearly that they take part in this air dedicated to idolatry, they have to be adorned with wreaths. Jews should not encourage those shops and not buy in them because the owner could be tempted to thank the divinity or the reduction o his taxes. But, sometimes in the land o Israel, airs were not dedicated to divinities and that is a point the rabbis wished to check every time, as witnessed in the Jerusalem almud (Z. Sarai, “Fairs in Eretz Israel in the Period o the Mishnah and almud,” Zion 49 (1984) 134–58 [Hebrew]). Further, the Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 12B, 13A understands that shops taking part in the air must pay a tax to idolatry; this is the way they share in idolatry. But Resh Lakish concludes with an innovation that the bene�t rom idolatry can come rom breathing in the good ragrance o the wreaths dedicated to idolatry in the displays o shops thus decorated. He then establishes a distinction between several kinds o wreaths. Hence, Jews should be permitted to buy only in those shops adorned with wreaths that are not ragrant. Independently, G. Blidstein, Rabbinic, 373 remarks that Lieberman (257–259 ”) already analyzed the use o wreaths as a popular way to mark estivi“ ties even among the Jews. In one instance in Mishnah Bikurim 3.2–3, “ ”—“the ox was led to sacri�ce” with “an olive-wreath on its head.”
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Further, it is obvious that both the Mishnah and ertullian distinguish between the eriae the eriae publicae, publicae, public estivals, and the private estivals, eriae tivals, eriae privatae. As privatae. As noted above, the main public estivals known and mentioned are roughly the same in the Mishnah and in the De Idololatria. Idololatria. Concerning the private estivals, one example is common to ertullian and the rabbis, the Mishnah57 prohibits contacts with someone who organizes a wedding, “ ,” while ertullian sees no danger o idolatry in celebrations such as weddings, that is, in “conjunctio “conjunctio maritalis,” maritalis ,”58 which is social unction proper: “Circa “Circa officia uero priuatarum et communium sollemnitatum, [. . .] ut nuptialium [ . . ] .] nullum putem periculum obseruari de �atu idololatriae, quaeinteruenit. [2] Causae enim sunt considerandae, quibus praestatur officium”—“As officium”—“As regards the attendance, however, at private and public ceremonies, such as [. [ . . .] weddings [. . .], I should think that no danger can be noticed in the breath o idolatry which is mixed up with them. For one should consider the reasons that social duties are ul�lled ” 59 ertullian and the rabbis probably disagree because the latter wanted to prevent close social interaction between Jews and pagans to avoid assimilation and intermarriage,60 whereas ertullian hoped that social 57
Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.3 and parallels osefa Avodah Zarah 1.4, Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 8B, Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 39c. See L. Vana, “Les relations sociales entre Juis et Païens à l’époque de la Mishna: la question du Banquet privé”, Revues des Sciences Religieuses 71 (1997) 147–170, where she discusses this point and especially stresses that the Jews o the Diaspora were allowed to take part in private estivals until the third century even i Palestinian Jews always rebuked them or doing so. 58 ertullian, De Idololatria 16. 59 ertullian, De Idololatria 16; officium means, in this context, social duties, as translated in Waszink ertullianus. 60 See some instances instances in Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 20A, 31B, 35B. In act, such an idea is based on Exodus 34.15–16: “Be careul not to make a treaty with those who live in the land; or when they prostitute themselves to their gods and sacri�ce to them, they will invite you and you will eat their sacri�ces. And when ‘you choose some o their daughters as wives or your sons’, ‘ ’ and those daughters prostitute themselves to their gods, they will lead your sons to do the same.” Pro. A. Steineld, Am Levadad: Mekhkarim beMassekhet Avodah Zarah (Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2008) wonders in his research whether the pretext “because o marriage” is the true reason or the laws o the Mishnah or whether it hides other reasons. Te Rambam in his Mishneh orah, Seer Kedushah, Hilkhot Maakhalot Assurot 17.6, 17.6, states: “ , , , — , ; , : ; , ”—“and there are there other things the sages orbade, and though their prohibition has not its principle in the orah, they enacted those prohibitions to separate rom the Gentiles, so that the Jews
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contacts would attract pagans to Christianity. Incidentally, the contrast between the Christian desire to proselytize and the relatively reticent Jewish stance might challenge the argument advanced by Simon and his ollowers, who claim that the synagogue was very strong until late in Late Antiquity and during the early Middle Ages, and that the Jews engaged in well-developed missionary activity among Gentiles, holding disputations with potential Christian proselytes. But let us not digress ! Despite the ormer example, when ertullian addresses occasions on which the risk that Christians might be contaminated by idolatry outweighed the chance that idolaters might be attracted to Christianity, he is more stringent and orbids any Christian participation in certain kinds o common meals or estivals, in which too much idolatry is involved.61 On the other hand, it appears rom rabbinic sources, would not mix with them and come to marriage. Tese are the prohibitions: it is prohibited to drink with them and even when there is no suspicion concerning libation wine; and it is prohibited to eat their bread or rom their cooking even when there is no suspicion concerning their orbidden mixtures.” He adds, concerning the prohibition to eat rom the Gentiles’ bread, 17.12: “ ; , ”—“the essential point in the prohibition is the matter o intermarriage. I a Jew came to eat the Gentiles’ bread, in the end he will join meals in their homes.” In other words, i Jews will eel comortable enough to eat the Gentiles’ bread, they will become used to visiting their homes. Tey will thus risk, on the one hand, eating other oods that may be impermissible by the ordinances o the Jewish dietary laws, and on the other hand, ar worse (rom Maimonides’ point o view), at the end they will marry the Gentiles’ daughters. In this context, see Elisha Qimron’s article,”Te Halacha o Damascus Covenant: An Interpretation o Al Yit arev,” Proceedings o the Ninth World Congress o Jewish Studies, Division D (Jerusalem: World Union o Jewish Studies, 1986), 1:9–15 [Hebrew], where he emphasizes that the root “ ”, “to mix,” in certain contexts, means, or at least involves, the notion o marriages or sexual intercourse and hence “becoming impure” because o the impurity, or “ ,” ensuing rom such relations. Regarding dietary laws that interposed a ence between Jews and Gentiles and on the interdiction regarding marrying non-Jews, see, as well, E. Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last o the Maccabees (New York: Schocken Books, 1962) 105. 61 ertullian, De Idololatria 13. “Gaudere cum gaudentibus et lugere cum lugentibus de ratribus dictum est ab apostolo ad unanimitatem cohortante. [3] Ceterum ad haec nihil communionis est lumini et tenebris, uitae et morti, aut scindimus quod est scriptum: saeculum gaudebit, uos uero lugebitis. Si cum saeculo gaudemus, uerendum est, ne cum saeculo et lugeamus. [4] Saeculo autem gaudente lugeamus et saeculo postea lugente gaudebimus”—“o rejoice with the rejoicing and to mourn with the mourning ” (Romans 12.15) was said about the brethren by the Apostle, when he exhorted [them] to be o one mind. But as concerns the matters at hand, nothing is shared between light and darkness, between lie and death; otherwise we rescind what is written, the world will rejoice, you however, will mourn. I we rejoice with the world, it is to be eared that we shall also mourn with the world. But let us mourn while the world rejoices, and we shall rejoice when aferwards the world mourns.” For commensality ʿ
ʿ
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that despite the rabbis’ aversion or mixing with pagans, Jews did in act take part in the pagans’ celebrations. 62 Moreover, the Mishnah63 details rules about how to behave while eating with a Gentile, which shows that the situation could also be envisaged in a neutral way, with neither blame nor praise, as again sometimes in the Babylonian almud. mud.64 In act then, ertullian and the rabbis deal quite similarly with social interaction with pagans. Both preer to avoid it, and both permit it under special circumstances and with precise restrictions. Actually, even i the result is the same on both sides, the motivations or their ruling differ somewhat. Both want to indicate to their disciples a good way o lie, but the rabbis, conronted with reality, must alleviate their interdictions in order to make daily lie possible or Jews in a pagan society, while ertullian restricts the liberty given to the Christians and wants to reduce contact with Gentiles, even contacts that are basically permitted by the Christian current rules o behavior, or ideological reasons: his theology and convictions do not permit close relations with con�rmed idolaters. I��������� �� I������� ertullian and the rabbis also concur in presenting idolatry as hotbed o immorality. As Friedheim65 remarks, or ertullian, idolatry is the worst o the sins, coming just beore adultery and homicide.66 as an inner-communitarian cultic practice among the Christians, see I. Henderson, “Early Christianity, extual Representation and Ritual Extension,” exte als Medium und Re�exion von Religion im römischen Reich, E. von der Osten, J. Rüpke et al., eds. (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag 2006) 91. 62 Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 8A, also osefa Avodah Zarah 4.6. “ ”—“A Gentile made a banquet or [the wedding o] his son and invited all the Jews o his city: though they bring and eat their own ood and drink their own wine and their own servant serves them, scripture regards them as though they had eaten rom corpses, as it is said: ‘He shall invite you and you shall eat rom his sacri�ce.’ ” 63 Mishnah Avodah Zarah 5. 64 Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 10B–11A, see also Bereshit Rabba 11.4: “ ”—“Rabbi made a meal or Antoninus on Shabbat.” 65 E. Friedheim, Rabbinisme, 44 n. 137. 66 ertullian, De Idololatria 1: “Principale crimen generis humani”—“Te principal crime o the human race”; ertullian, De Patientia 5.21: “Haec ut principalia penes dominum delicta”—“Tese [I mention] as the principal delinquencies in the sight o the Lord”; De Spectaculis 2.9: “atquin summa offensa penes illum idolatria est ”— “idolatry in His eyes is the crowning sin”; idolatry is the main sin. See ertullian,
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Te rabbis are o exactly the same opinion and enjoin the Jews to die rather than commit those three sins.67 Furthermore, both De Idololatria and massekhet Avodah Zarah equate Zarah equate idolatry with concupiscence and bloodshed.68 O course, attacks between competitive groups ofen ocus on sexual immorality. o describe an opponent in exaggerated ashion as being amoral in his private lie is a stereotyped way o discrediting him. Nevertheless, the similarity between the rabbis and the Church ather in this respect is noteworthy. B���� Neither the Mishnah nor ertullian orbids the participation o Jews or Christians, respectively, in the construction and non-�gurative decoration o public baths. However, they must not take part in the construction o the niche in which an idol will be placed. 69 Still on the
De Pudicitia 5.5, or the three worst sins, that are the same as those envisaged by the rabbis, in the same decreasing order o gravity. 67 “ ”—“he will be killed and will not transgress,” osefa Shabbat 15.17, Babylonian almud : Sanhedrin 74A, Ketuboth 19A, Avodah Zarah 27B, Yoma 82A, Pesahim 25AB, and other examples or parallels in the Jerusalem almud . Te urther discussion o the almud is whether a Jew must die to avoid those sins, even i no one can see him, or only i he is asked to transgress the law in public, in order to sanctiy God’s name. 68 ertullian, De Idololatria 1.4; ertullian, De Idololatria 1 passim: idolatry also implies concupiscence, or “concupiscentiae,” ornication, or “stuprum,” adultery, or “adulterium” as one example: “And thus it is that the Holy Scriptures use the designation o ornication in their upbraiding o idolatry”—“ Atque adeo scripturae sanctae stupri uocabulo utuntur in idololatriae exprobratione.” In the Bible, in Exodus 34.15, Isaiah 1.21, Jeremiah 3.3, or instance, the cult o the Baal Peor is very representative o ornication in idolatry or the rabbis, and the Bacchanals are well known or their depravatity in the Greco-Roman world. Neusner, Te almud o Babylonia. An Academic Commentary XXV. Bavli ractate Avodah Zarah (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994) 385, states that the Babylonian almud contrasts opposites and among them orah study as opposed to lewdness and other sins. Giulia Canedi, “Problemi di convivenza: spunti per un conronto tra il ‘ De Idololatria’ di ertulliano e ‘Mishnah Abodah Zarah’”, Quaderni del Ramo d’Oro online 1 (2008) 77, strongly emphasizes that the similarity between Jewish and Christian condemnation o cohabitation with pagans is connected with the demonization o polytheists. Nevertheless, as is stated urther in this work, demonization and accusations o immorality are tools commonly used in polemics between opposing streams in general and are not particular to Jewish and Christian polemics against paganism. 69 De Idololatria 8.1, Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.7 (parallels in Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 19B, Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 9d). “ ”—“one may not build with them a basilica nor a platorm nor a stadium nor a stand but one may build
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subject o water, both ertullian and the rabbis object to the �gurative shapes o aucets. ertullian reers to them pejoratively in De Idololatria 15.6: tria 15.6: “Nam “Nam et alia ostia in balneis adorari videmus” videmus ”70 as one more utile object o the pagans’ adoration. Te rabbis discuss the matter in the osefa Avodah osefa Avodah Zarah, Zarah,71 where they state the conditions under which a Jew is permitted to drink rom such aucets without giving the impression that he reveres the idols they represent. S���� ��� G���� ertullian is a ervent opponent o the pagans’ spectacles and games. In his De Idololatria, Idololatria, he only sketchily reminds the audience o what his positions are and sends the reader to his ormer work, dedicated to the subject, De Spectaculis. Spectaculis. Te Mishnah Avodah Mishnah Avodah Zarah itsel Zarah itsel does not say a word about attending shows and deals only with the building o places or them. Only in 1.7 does it speciy that it is orbidden or Jews to sell dangerous animals to the pagans: “ ”—“it is prohibited to sell them bears, or lions and anything that might cause injury to many people.” At �rst glance, it appears that this is a general stipulation that has no connection or relevance to the theaters. However, the Jerusalem almud72 establishes the link indirectly, in that a discussion o the spectacles immediately ollows the interdiction against selling dangerous animals. Te connection is made explicit in osefa osefa Avodah Zarah, Zarah,73 which cites Rabbi Meir’s words: “ ”—“He who goes up into the Gentiles’ amphitheaters, it is orbidden on grounds o idolatry.” Te �rst reason, then, or avoiding such maniestations is the same or ertullian and the rabbis. But the osefa immediately adds: “ ”—
with them pedestals and bathhouses”. Tere are three possibilities o interpretation o the word but it is not relevant to our concern here. 70 “For we see that other entrances, too, are worshipped, in in the baths” (see Waszink, ertullianus 53, Te Ante-Nicene athers: ranslations o the writings o the athers down to A.D. 325 , Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, eds., Vol. 3 De Idolatria 15, http://www.tertullian.org/an, E-A. De Genoude, Oeuvres de ertullien (Paris: Chez Louis Vives, 1852)). Tis passage is or Mandell a matter o accusations against Lieberman; see below note 79. 71 osefa Avodah Zarah 6.5–6. 72 Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 40a. 73 osefa Avodah Zarah 2.5; parallels in Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 18B, Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 40a.
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“I they are not actually making a sacri�ce it is still prohibited, on grounds o seating onesel with scoffers.” scoffers .” And ertullian states in De Spectaculis Spectaculis 3.3: “ elix vir . . . qui non abiit in concilium impiorum et in via peccatorum non stetit nec in cathedra pestium sedit ”—“Blessed ”—“Blessed is the man who has not gone into the assembly o the impious, nor stood in the way o sinners, nor sat in the seat o scorners,” 74 citing Psalm 1.1, Psalm 1.1, as did the rabbis. Like the rabbis, ertullian interprets the verse as reerring to gladiatorial displays in theaters and circuses and orbids Christians to join the “scoffers” in the theaters. Further, both ertullian and the rabbis allow the Jews to enter pagan theaters or an “honest reason.”75 Both also condemn the pagans or taking their daughters to the amphitheaters, which are ull o sin and immodesty. 76
74
Mention must be made o ertullian’s view view that the “assembly o the impious” represents the Jews who deliberated upon the ate o Jesus and decided on his execution. Could this be a veiled message to the rabbis, reminding them that, although he used the same sources, ertullian did not place himsel in exactly in the same camp ? Marie urcan, ertullien, Les Spectacles (Paris: les Editions du Cer, 1986) 104, states that the understanding o the “seats o scorners” as theaters is probably o Jewish origin. J. Neusner, Te almud 385, states that the Babylonian almud contrasts opposites and among them Israel’s probity and dignity with the nations’ buffoonery. 75 ertullian, De Spectaculis 8.8: “ nam non sola ista conciliabula spectaculorum, sed etiam templa ipsa sine periculo disciplinae adire servus dei potest urguente causa sim plici dumtaxat, quae non pertineat ad proprium eius loci negotium vel officium”—“For not only the places or show-gatherings, but even the temples, may be entered without any peril o his religion by the servant o God, i he has only some honest reason or it, unconnected with their proper business and official duties.” ertullian does not give examples o justi�ed reasons and even permits access to pagan temples when no ritual activity is held there. In osefa 2.7, the rabbis admit the presence o Jews in the theaters during the contests or two reasons: the �rst, helping the loser in the games to stay alive by shouting in his avor, and the second, to testiy to the death o a Jew in order to allow his widow to remarry (the Jewish woman cannot remarry i her husband’s ate is unknown or unclear; she must either be divorced or people must know or certain that her husband died in order or her to be ree to remarry. Without those conditions, she remains under the risk o being married, wherever her husband may be). 76 ertullian, De Spectaculis 17.1: “similiter impudicitiam omnem amoliri iubemur. Hoc igitur modo etiam a theatro separamur, quod est privatum consistorium impudici”—“Are we not, in like mantiae, ubi nihil probatur quam quod alibi non probatur ”—“Are ner, enjoined to put away rom us all immodesty ? On this ground, again, we are excluded rom the theater, which is immodesty’s own peculiar abode, where nothing is in repute but what elsewhere is disreputable”; 21.2: “ ut et qui �liae virginis ab omni spurco verbo aures tuetur, ipse eam in theatrum ad illas voces gesticulationesque ”—“he who careully protects and guards his virgin daughter’s ears rom every deducat ”—“he polluting word, takes her to the theater himsel, exposing her to all its vile words and attitudes”; Ruth Rabba 2.22 “ ”—“my daughter, it is not in the habits o Jewish maidens to go to their theaters and circuses” [text rom Midrash Rabba; Ruth (Jerusalem 2001)], and other examples, or instance 1.6.
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Tey agree once again upon the act that one who attends violent shows is as guilty as i he were violent and a killer himsel.77 Finally, ertullian argues that the spectacles injure the Christians’ tranquility o soul, and the rabbis assert that they divert the Jews rom the study o the orah, which is their delight: “his desire is in the Lord’s orah”, orah”, “ .”78 Also, a slight parallel is to be observed between the ' rabbis’ attempt to righten the Jews by presenting the shows as morally and physically hazardous, exposing Jews who attend them to insult and mockery, and De Idololatria 14.2: “the whole circus assaults the name [o the Christians’ God] with its wicked voting.” G������� ertullian and the rabbis both hesitate about the position they should adopt toward ashion in clothing. Both rule that Christians and Jews can wear whatever garments they wish, as long as they neither abjure their religion nor hide their identity. Tey must avoid any garment bearing idolatrous connotations that could endanger their aith. Finally, they should avoid being indistinguishable rom the idolaters. S����� ��� N���� �� ��� P���� G��� “Deos nationum nominari lex prohibet, non utique, ne nomina eorum pronuntiemus, quae nobis ut dicamus conversatio extorquet ”—“Te ”—“Te law orbids naming the gods o the heathens; [this is] not [that it orbids], in any case, that we pronounce their names, which conversation requires
M. Lerner, Te Book o Ruth in Aggadic Literature and Midrash Ruth Rabba (Ph.D. Jerusalem) adopts the version “ ”, “it is not in the habits o the Jews to go” instead o “ ”, “it is not in the habits o Jewish maidens” though he records our different sources that show the version “ ”, “maidens”. In the parts o his work called “misconduct o the generation” and “modesty”, he does not comment this sentence. Concerning the word “ ”, “their”, Lerner records in the manuscripts the version “ ”, “o gentiles”. 77 osefa Avodah Zarah 2.7: “ ”—“he who sits in amphitheatres is guilty o bloodshed” (also Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 18B or ‘ ’, Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 40a); ertullian, De Spectaculis 18, 20 where the spectator is a “ reus,” a criminal. 78 ertullian, De Spectaculis 15, osefa Avodah Zarah 2.6; Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 18B; Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 40a.
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us to say.”79 Te Mishnah Avodah Mishnah Avodah Zarah does not deal with this matter, but the parallel osefa osefa Avodah Zarah Zarah addresses it, basing itsel on the biblical injunction, “Do not invoke the names o other gods; 79
ertullian, De Idolatria 20.2. Te translation o this apparently simple sentence is made uneasy by Mandell’s attacks against Lieberman. [Mandell, ‘Did Saul Lieberman . . .’ and S. Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine: Lieberman translates: “Te law orbids to name the gods o the nations, not, o course, that we are not to pronounce their names, the mention o which is required by conversation.” And Mandell emends: “Te law does not orbid, without quali�cation, the gods o the nations to be called by name. Conversation (itsel ) drags their names out o us, so that we must say them”.] First, Waszink and Van Winden’s, ertullianus, edition o the Latin text opts or Sigismondus Gelenius’ manuscript, giving “ non utique ne nomina . . .” instead o the “non utique nomina . . .” used by Lieberman and Mandell. Tis meaningul change makes super�uous any urther discussion o Mandell’s assertion that “ prohibet ” serves two different unctions, so that it is a part o two separate phrases, which is made evident thanks to the “ ne.” Ten, Mandell accuses Lieberman o not dealing with “ non utique.” Te literal translation o the term is “not in any case,” and I believe that Lieberman’s reerence to the “non utique” can be ound in his “not o course that,” which does not appear in the Latin words; Waszink and Van Winden’s translation (“Te laws orbids us to mention the gods o the heathens. Its sense, o course, is not that we should not pronounce their names, which every-day lie orces us to use”.) makes the same use o “o course [. . .] not” without any other addition that could be interpreted as being put or “ non utique.” Te Ante-Nicene Fathers proposes the same “not o course that.” Baer (supra n. 25) gives a detailed explanation o “ non utique” and �nally reaches the same conclusion as Lieberman or the sentence. One o Mandell’s other accusations aims to make clear or the reader that “ deos nationum nominari” is an in�nitive clause. Jacobson ( Saul Lieberman (1898–1983). almudic Scholar and Classicist , Meir Lubetski, ed. (2002) has already proved that it is ridiculous to believe that Lieberman thought “ nominari” to be an active orm; his active translation o the sentence is only the appropriate way to translate such a sentence into English, as everyone who learns Latin learns to do. Finally, did Sarah Mandell know Latin ? She translates “Deos nationum nominari lex prohibet ” as“the law does not orbid.” Afer all o her accusations against Lieberman, saying that he does not provide literal translations and does not put them into proper English, she reaches here the zenith o mistranslation, and her only justi�cation is “once it has been resolved that non quali�es ,” but she does not resolve this enigma. I can understand what meaning she prohibit ,” wishes to transmit through those words, but she could have translated the phrase as “the law orbids the gods o the nations to be called by names” (cannot Sarah Mandell see that her translation in English means that the gods are allowed or not allowed to be called by names, as i Judaeo-Christian law intended to orbid the non-existent other gods anything?) as is indeed written in the text, and have added “ but not without quali�cation.” She wants to enhance in her translation the meaning o the sentence, exactly as Lieberman does, while she criticizes him or doing so. At any rate, here, as or Mandell’s other accusation against Lieberman in the passage dealt with above (supra n. 70), the deense is easy. Lieberman does not linger over a textual explanation o ertullian’s sentence and over its subtleties. He quotes ertullian, incidentally, to illustrate the ideas he proposes. o make his example clear, Lieberman translates the words without any sophisticated exegesis. His target is to provide the general meaning o the sentence in order to emphasize the parallel with the Jewish source he is actually dealing with.
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do not let them be heard on your lips.”80 ertullian limits his interdiction to instances when the names o the gods cannot be avoided and permits their use as long as it is only a manner o speaking and does not indicate any reverence or the deities named: “For quite ofen one has to say things like ‘you will �nd him in the temple o Asclepius’, or ‘I live in the quarter o Isis’, or ‘he has become a priest o Jupiter’ or many other expressions o this nature, since such names are also given to men”—“Nam men”—“Nam id plerumque dicendum est: in templo Aesculapii illum habes, et in uico Isidis habito, et sacerdos Iouis actus est, et multa alia in hunc modum, quando et hominibus hoc genus nomina inducuntur ”; ”;81 the rabbis o the osefa, or their part, state: “One should not tell his ellow: ‘wait or me next to the idol so-and-so,’ and I will wait or you next to the idol so-and-so’ because it was said: ‘Make no mention o the names o other gods’ ”—“ .”82 Both Baer and Lieberman83—or the latter, concerning the position o ‘later rabbis’ only—assert that the rule was actually the same among the rabbis as or ertullian: the prohibition prohibi tion applied only when another option was available or avoiding any mention o the names o the gods. When no other option existed, saying the name o the gods, or both the rabbis and ertullian, but without reerring to them as “gods,” was not considered to be idolatry. Mishnah Avodah Zarah Zarah itsel, as is the case with other rabbinic writings, is ull o the names o the gods. Te Merkolis and Merkolis and the asheras and asheras and even Aphrodite hersel are mentioned throughout the work without any compunction.
80
Exodus 23.13, osefa Avodah Zarah 6.11. ertullian, De Idololatria 20.2. ertullian, De Idololatria 10.6: “Deos ipsos hoc ”, “By calling them gods, he seals, con�rms, their divinity.” What nomine obsignat ”, is actually orbidden according to ertullian is to call the divinities o the heathens “gods”. 82 osefa Avodah Zarah 6.11. 83 Y. Baer, “Israel, the Christian, Lieberman, Hellenism 112 who evokes Rabbi Yair Chayim Bacharach’s Havvot Yair siman Yair siman A: “ ”, “and urther it seems that there is no interdiction except in saying it when there is no need.” 81
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S����������� ��� ������ One o ertullian’s reservations concerning the proession o schoolmaster in the pagans’ schools is about the actual naming o the pagan gods. ertullian allows one to say the names o gods but not to call them gods: “Deos “Deos ipsos hoc nomine obsignat ”—“By ”—“By calling them gods, he seals, con�rms, their divinity.” 84 He orbids a Christian teacher to praise the pagan gods, which is something a schoolmaster cannot avoid while teaching classical literature. Nevertheless, while a Christian cannot teach classical literature, he can learn it. ertullian allows the Christian who “already realizes who he is”—“iam is”—“iam sapit qui sit ”85 to study with the Gentiles because the Christian pupil can avoid proessions o idolatry, although the teacher cannot, and, there is no danger in secular education or him, because his Christian learning protects him rom the temptations o idolatry.86 Moreover, as ertullian states repeatedly throughout De Idololatria, Idololatria, though it would be preerable, the Christians cannot live “out o the world.”87 As or the rabbis, they do not permit sending a child to the gentiles to be educated, so that he can learn wisdom or a proession: “ ”—“and it is prohibited to hand a child over to him to teach him reading, to teach him a craf and to be alone with him.”88 Nonetheless, rabbinic literature shows that the sages did have a certain knowledge o external culture. Te rabbis understood they needed to have contact with the pagans and to learn about their culture89 in order to understand them and to know how to handle their relations with them. Hence there are accounts o the education o the members o Raban Gamliel’s household and stories about contacts between Jewish sages and Greek wise men or between Jewish leaders and Roman political leaders. Te ban on uttering the names o the idols orbids both Jews and Christians to teach pagan wisdom, but both are permitted to learn it, since it is essential to human education.
84
ertullian, De Idololatria 10.6. ertullian, De Idololatria 10.6. 86 See J.-C. Fredouille, ertullien 421. 87 ertullian, De Idololatria 14.5 or example. 88 osefa Avodah Zarah 3.2. 89 Lieberman, Hellenism 112 even asserts that the rabbis studied Homer—as airy tales. 85
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ertullian and the rabbis also agree that certain proessions that are unworthy o either Christians or Jews, because they are inconsistent with the requirements o their religions. S������� �� ��� N���� �� ��� P���� G��� With respect to contracts, a Christian is not allowed to sign an oath taken in the name o a pagan god.90 ertullian asks several times: “Can you have denied with your tongue what you proess with your hands ?”—“Potes ?”—“Potes lingua negasse quod manu con�teris.” con�teris .”91 One cannot sign such a document and “deny being conscious”—“negant conscious”—“ negant se scire”— scire”—92 that one is swearing by the gods mentioned. ertullian’s treatment o the contradictions between what one thinks or believes and what one declares appears close to the discussions ound in both classical and Jewish sources concerning oaths in general, as detailed by Lieberman.93 Te almudic sources ofen try to prevent raud and the twisting o the words o the oaths by warning an individual who takes an oath that his words will be interpreted according to their apparent, literal meaning, as can be readily discerned by everyone, and especially by the judges, and not according to special “secret” clauses he himsel might have in mind. Nevertheless, in some particular cases, such as imminent danger or several types o coercion, one is allowed to apply hidden decisions or intentions that one has in mind in order to cancel the meaning o what he is actually swearing. Both Palestinian sources and Cicero state that swearing in such situations does not oblige the person who takes an oath. Jewish sources express an attitude between Cicero’s generally lenient positions and ertullian’s ar stricter ones. Furthermore, ertullian shunned the implicit idolatry expressed in common expressions, which are actually oaths in the name o pagan gods, such as “ Me deus �dius”—“help �dius”—“help me the god o aith”—or “ Me Hercule !”—“By Hercules.” In similar spirit, certain rabbis orbid the utterance o idolatrous names. 94 According to both
90
ertullian, De Idololatria 23. ertullian, De Idololatria 6.2 and chapter 23. 92 ertullian, De Idololatria 23.1. 93 S. Lieberman, Yevanit 100–1 n. 129. 94 ertullian, De Idololatria 20.5: “So help me the god o aith”—“By Hercule.” In act, common people, both Jews and Christians, swore in the names o the pagan gods. ertullian himsel stresses that generally they do it because they do not understand 91
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the rabbis and ertullian, not only must Jews and Christians avoid the mention o pagan gods, they must also avoid giving a pagan occasion or invoking or thanking his gods.95 Hence, Christians and Jews must avoid paying their debts to the pagans or being repaid by them on the days o their estivals: “Sunt quidam dies munerum, quae apud alios honoris titulum, apud alios mercedis debitumexpungunt. [5] Nunc ergo, inquis, recipiam meum uel rependam alienum. Si hunc morem sibi homines de superstitione consecrauerunt, tu extraneus ab omni eorum uanitate quid participas idolothyta sollemnia, quasi tibi quoque praescriptum sit de die, quonimus id, quod homini debes uel tibi ab homine debetur, citra diei obseruationem luas uel recipias.”—“Tere recipias .”—“Tere are certain days on which presents are given, nulliying or some a reason to pay homage, or others a debt o wages. ‘Now, then,’ you say, ‘I shall receive back what is mine, or pay back what is another’s.’ I men have consecrated or themselves this custom rom superstition, why do you, estranged as you are rom all their vanity, participate in solemnities consecrated to idols; as i or you also there were some prescript about a day, short o the observance o a particular day, to prevent your paying or receiving what you owe a man, or what is owed you by a man ?” Te same is to be ound in the Mishnah: Mishnah: “ . . . ”—“For three days beore the idolatrous
what they are saying. In the papyrus P.Yadin 16 rom the Judean desert, the Jewish Babtha swears by the “ Τυχη” o the emperor, and St. Augustin still rebukes the Arican Christians or swearing all the time by the names o the idols. 95 Mekhilta Kaspa 4: a Jew must not swear by an idol nor make a pagan swear by the name o his divinity; Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.1 “ . . . , ”—“For three days beore the idolatrous estivals it is prohibited to have trade with them [. . .] afer a while he (the idolater) rejoices”; ertullian, De Idolatria 22.2: “Si cui dedero eleemosynam uel aliquid praestitero bene�cii, et ille mihi deos suos uel coloniae genium propitios imprecetur, iam oblatio mea uel operatio idolorum honor erit, per quae benedictionis gratiam compensat—“I I give alms or coner a bene�t on him, and that man prays that his gods or the genius o the colony may be propitious to me, my gif or bene�t will therewith be a homage to the idols in whose name he returns to me blessing, which is his thanks.” Friedheim, Rabbinisme 289–290 wants to see an exact parallel between “Si . . . praestitero bene�cii”—“I . . . I coner a bene�t on him,” that is, in Friedheim’s opinion, through business dealing with the idolater, and the mishnaic interdiction to have business dealings with idolaters (but this reers only to the three days preceding their estivals, while ertullian warns Christians rom such involvement in idolatry in any case).
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estivals it is prohibited . . . to make payment to them and to accept repayment rom them.” 96 Tis is because, as Friedheim97 states, the pagans considered those days to be particularly avorable or contracts and transactions and would thereore not miss any opportunity to thank their gods or their success during this period. O���������� ��� L�� ? ertullian wants the Christians to avoid business connections with pagans as much as possible. In De Idololatria chapter 11, the principle expounded is the same as in Mishnah Avodah Mishnah Avodah Zarah chapter Zarah chapter 1: Christians, like Jews, must avoid any act that would bene�t idolatry or provide themselves with any advantage stemming rom idolatry. Just as the Mishnah orbids selling products that would be used in pagan worship or selling victims or sacri�ces, buying in shops taking part in idolatrous activities, helping to transport libation wine, taking part in the building o convenient places or the installation o idols, and the like, ertullian, too, orbids providing pagans with goods or worship or victims or sacri�ces, or to working or building b uilding or idolatry, or doing anything that would help others do what a Christian is not allowed to do. But while ertullian is not ready to make lie among the pagans easier or Christians, the rabbis �nd ways o circumventing the biblical laws. For example, incense is cited by both ertullian and the rabbis as a commodity that cannot be sold to idolaters. For ertullian, one who idolorum”—an “agent o the idols,” with does sell it is a “ procurator “ procurator idolorum”—an priori, it is really a sin to sell incense, as no way out. For the rabbis, a priori, written in the midrash that midrash that one who sells incense to idolaters has no portion in the world to come.98 Nevertheless, under certain circumstances, Jews are allowed to sell products to pagans and to overlook the use pagans intend to make o them. Tis even includes incense.
96
ertullian, De Idololatria 13.4–5, mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.1; nevertheless, osefa Avodah Zarah 1.1 speci�es that repayment must not be accepted by a Jew on a pagan celebration i the loan is secured by a written testimony, but i it is not secured, the Jew can accept it, lest the pagan should decide later to ignore his debt to the Jew. 97 Friedheim, Rabbinisme 327, (also E. Friedheim, Zion 71 (2006) 298). 98 J. D. Eisenstein, Otzar Hamidrashim (New York 1915–1918) 162. Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.5.
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For example, a Jew can sell this product, which is commonly used in idolatrous worship, to a pagan i he deems that it will not be used or idolatry and as long as the pagan does not speciy why he wants the incense: “ ”—“their purpose is unspeci�ed.”99 Te Jew need not ask too many questions. A Jew is allowed to sell incense to a physician or to anyone else who is supposed to need incense or non-ritual use; a Jew is also allowed to sell incense to a wholesaler, whether or not the wholesaler will then sell it to individuals or idolatrous worship. 100 Te Jew is simply not required to think about this. For ertullian, it does not matter that products such as incense can be used or non-idolatrous purposes. Te Christian is not allowed in any way to play the idolaters’ game: “I the selsame merchandises—rankincense, I mean and all other oreign productions—used as sacri�ce to idols, are o use likewise to men or medicinal ointments . . .”—“si .”—“si eaedem merces, tura dico et cetera peregrinitatis ad ad sacri�cium idolorum etiam hominibus ad pigmenta medicinalia . . .,” nevertheless, the Christian cannot sell it. Te white cock, a common sacri�cial offering, belongs to the same category,101 according to ertullian. However, a Jew is allowed to close his eyes regarding the use or which the animal is destined, so long as the pagan does not speciy it. Still, the game has its limits; and i it is obvious that the pagan wants certain products or idolatrous worship, the Jew is allowed to sell them only i he can render them un�t or idol worship beore he gives them to the idolater.102 Te motivation or the rabbis’ leniency in numerous commercial matters is to avoid overly heavy �nancial losses or Jews. Indeed, the two almuds go arther than the Mishnah and permit orbidden results by �nding ways to circumvent explicitly orbidden acts. For instance, by dealing with the idolaters’ wives—and not with the idolaters themselves, which is the concern o the interdiction—Jews may be allowed to provide the worshipers with the goods they need on the days o their estivals, despite the prohibition o the Mishnah. ertullian’s positions are much more
99
Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.5. osefa Avodah Zarah 1.21, Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 14A, Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 39d; ertullian, De Idololatria 11. 101 Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.5. Note that ertullian obviously aces the same reality as the rabbis and quotes the cock as a common offering, or example, in Apology 46. 102 For instance, he can cut off one o the toes o the cock, Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.5. 100
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stringent, since he is not interested in ostering commercial relationships between Christians and pagans.103 ertullian’s chapter 8 in the De Idololatria, Idololatria, then, even sounds like a criticism o the rabbis’ approach: “Si “Si ita necessitas exhibitionis extenditur ”—“I ”—“I the necessity o sustenance is given such emphasis”— that is, what is not a real problem or the Christians—“Tereore, we must guard also against this, that with our knowledge a product o our manual work be demanded by anyone or the service o idols and i we make concessions and i we do not make use o the so obvious remedies, then, to my mind we are not ree rom the contamination o idolatry, because it is by no means without our knowledge that our hands are caught in serving the demons, or in treating them respectully”— “hoc quoque cauere debemus, ne quid scientibus nobis ab aliquibus de manibus nostris in rem idolorumpostuletur. Quod si concesserimus et non remediis iam usitatis egerimus, non puto nos a contagio idololatriae uacare, quorum manus non ignorantium in officio uel in honore et usu daemoniorum deprehenduntur .” .”104 Although he rejected the rabbis’ approach in commercial matters, concerning social relationships, which are very important or him, in a social ramework, ertullian eels ree to use the same casuistic tricks as the rabbis. While the rabbis encourage the Jews not to ask the pagans what they intend to do with the products the Jews sell to them, i they do not speciy it themselves, ertullian, in order to permit Christian participation in private cel-
103
Schöllgen, “Die eilnahme . . . 3 already stressed this act, but he nevertheless reminds us that ertullian in Apologeticum 42.1–3 gives a ull account o actual Christian involvement in all �elds o the secular business lie. Further ( ibid.) 4, Schöllgen recognizes that, in apologetic works, ertullian sometimes almost lies about the reality o the situation. Hence, Schöllgen consecrates a part o his study to proving how the complete economic isolation o Christians rom the heathen world is impossible. In my opinion, Christian-Gentile commercial interaction is simply not ertullian’s concern. And since no “ mitsvot ” exist or the Christians, ertullian is ree to decide to rule or not on any concern, to pay attention or not to any �eld. It is certain that Christians bought their ood and all that they needed rom pagans when no Christian merchant could provide them with the products they wanted. Perhaps we must seek the solution to the puzzling act that ertullian almost never deals with what a Christian should do in relation to products coming rom an idolatrous ramework. Actually, ertullian preers to emphasize essential ideological and theological matters rather than practical details, such as how could the Christians live without having any business relationships with idolaters. In contrast, regulating social relations is important so as to permit conversion o the pagans without contamination o the Christian group. Te principles ertullian draws rom such a ramework also apply to the social aspects o commercial relationships when idolatrous matters are involved. 104 ertullian, De Idololatria 8.5.
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ebrations which will obviously include idolatrous rituals, states: “Plane “ Plane ad sacerdotium et sacri�cium vocatus, non ibo”—“Invited ibo ”—“Invited clearly to a priestly service or sacri�ce, I will not go”; and “Si “ Si propter sacri�cium vocatus adsistam, ero particeps idolatriae”—“I idolatriae ”—“I I were invited or a sacri�ce proper and attended it, I would take part in idolatry . . .” 105 Tis implies that i the host does not speciy that the Christian is invited to the sacri�ce itsel, the Christian may go to the party, even i he knows that he will attend idolatrous ceremonies there. ertullian and the rabbis concur again when it comes to the notion o “do not make a temple o your door”—“ne door”—“ ne eceris templum ianuam tuam.” tuam.”106 ertullian wants Christians to avoid any behavior similar to that o the pagans, to avoid decorating their doors with ornaments that could be interpreted as being idolatrous, and, in general, he wants them to prevent any orm o idolatry rom entering their homes. Te Mishnah Avodah Mishnah Avodah Zarah deals with this matter several times. Te �rst occurrence is in Mishnah 1.8–9,107 where it says that a Jew is allowed 105
ertullian, De Idololatria 16.5; the trick is even more obvious in comparison with ertullian’s statement one paragraph earlier: De Idololatria 15: “I it is or a man’s sake, let us again consider that all idolatry is or man’s sake; let us again consider that all idolatry is a worship done to men, since it is generally agreed even among their worshipers that aoretime the gods themselves o the nations were men; and so it makes no difference whether that superstitious homage be rendered to men o a ormer age or o this”—“ Si hominis causa est, recogitemus omnem idololatrian in hominis causam esse. [2] Recogitemus omnem idololatrian in homines esse culturam, cum ipsosdeos nationum homines retro uisse etiam apud suos constet. Itaque nihil ”; and then he coninterest, superioris an huius saeculi uiris superstitio ista praestetur ”; tradicts himsel in 16: “it will be lawul or us to be present at some ceremonies which see us doing service to a man, not to an idol”—“ licebit adesse in quibusdam, quae .” It can be argued that idols are men, while nos homini, non idolo, officiosos habent .” men are not idols, but here the argument sounds orced because o the context, and it seems obvious that the same idea is used twice or different purposes. Waszink and van Winden, ertullianus 238, comment on the passage rom chapter 15, saying that, actually, the emperor is a medium between men and demons or that “by means o the emperor the demon draws man’s worship away rom the one God to himsel.” Tat would mean that chapter 15 differs rom 16 in that that it does not deal with the same kind o beings. 106 ertullian, De Idololatria 15.11; the entire paragraph deals with the worship o doors and entrances. 107 Parallels in osefa Avodah Zarah 2.8–9 and in the almudim; it is interesting to notice that, even i the Mishnah and ertullian discuss the same reasons and both propose ways or Jews and Christians, respectively, not to introduce idolatry into their private homes, the Mishnah deals with the sanctity o the Holy Land and the levels o sanctity o other places. Such a matter is not ertullian’s concern, or the Christians have no sacred place, and the rules concerning homes and lands are everywhere the same, or the same reasons. As or the Jews, they cannot allow any takeover by oreigners in the Holy Land, and it is not only a problem o idolatry, but
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to sell his house to a pagan only “outside the Land o Israel”—“ ,” but orbids him to rent a dwelling house to a pagan, “or he [the idolater] might introduce an idol into it, as it is said: ‘Tou shalt not bring an abomination into thy house’”—“ .” Mishnah 3.6 deals with the laws concerning a Jewish dwelling adjoining “a house or idolatrous worship”—“ .” Mishnah 3.7 speci�es what kinds o houses are used “or idolatrous worship”; some are intrinsically idolatrous and cannot be adapted or Jewish use, while others can be puri�ed o their idolatrous character. Tus there is a common agenda among the Jewish and Christian mentors who want their respective audiences to avoid idolatry in their homes. D��������� �� I������� When does something become “consecrated” to idolatry ? osefa Avoosefa Avodah Zarah108 answers: “ . .
.
.”—“From the moment when an act is perpetrated on it. And what is worshiped worshi ped ? Anything worshiped whether inadvertently or deliberately. What is one which has been set aside or idolatry ? Any which has been set aside or idolatry. But i one has said, ‘this ox is or idolatry,’ ‘this house is or idolatry,’ he has said nothing whatsoever. For there is no such thing as an act o consecration or idolatry.” In the De Idololatria Idololatria ertullian states that it is the actual worship that
also o nationalism. According to the �rst opinion, Jews can neither rent nor sell their Holy Land houses and �elds, and according to the second opinion, they can rent but not sell houses. In Syria, where the Jews had been settled and well established or a long time and elt that they had some rights since King David had conquered it (Bartenura), it is claimed that the level o sanctity is lower and the rules change, but are still restrictive. Anywhere else, which means throughout the pagan world, sales are permitted, since anyway the Jews are not attached to property in countries where they are oreigners, according to the opinion o the Mishnah, but obviously the Jews o the Diaspora would have thought otherwise o their own status in their adoptive countries. According to the �rst opinion, even abroad, Jews cannot sell their �elds to idolaters but only rent them out, and they are not permitted to rent out their dwellings to idolaters, since they would settle in them with their idols. Jews must be careul to prevent their houses rom becoming places o idolatry. 108 osefa Avodah Zarah 5.9–10, and see also Babylonian almud emurah 29a “ .”
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comprises consecration to idolatry: “Si “ Si idoli honor est, sine dubio idoli honor idolatria est ”—“I ”—“I it is an honor to an idol, then undoubtedly this honor to an idol is idolatry.”109 Tus, at this stage, the rabbis and ertullian agree on the precise moment when an object becomes idolatrous, even i some divergences can be observed in the development o the rabbinic ruling on this point. C����������� �� ��� C���������: J��� ��� C��������� �� C������ ? Te ew illustrations above show a kind o community between the De Idololatria and massekhet Avodah Zarah Zarah in themes, examples, methods, and responses to a common reality. But does that prove that ertullian was amiliar with Jewish thought ? It is obviously impossible to argue, through this study, or rabbinic in�uence upon ertullian’s treatise. Nevertheless, the act that ertullian lived in close proximity to a Jewish community, ounded his arguments on sources that he shared with this community, in the same cultural environment, and reached very similar conclusions, at the same time is not insigni�cant. Even the theme o idolatry is not dealt with so extensively by other Church athers in ertullian’s time or beore him. Te inevitable conclusion is that ertullian must have been aware o at least some o the ideas that were dealt with—and the way they were dealt with—within the Carthaginian Jewish community. Te urther suggestions that I offer in this direction would have remained totally speculative without the recent publication o Geoffrey D. Dunn’s rhetorical analysis o ertullian’s Adversus Iudaeos. Iudaeos.110 And I believe that afer the appearance o this highly convincing study, the act that I reached the same conclusions as Dunn, independently, through another o ertullian’s works, in my own examination o the De Idololatria, Idololatria, makes the conclusions almost irreutable.
109
ertullian, De Idololatria 15.1; see also J. Neusner, Te almud 273, where he speci�es that it is human will that transorms the objects; human will transorms a piece o wood into an idol through the desire to worship. 110 Analysis (Washington: Te G. Dunn, ertullian’s Adversus Iudaeos; A Rhetorical Analysis Catholic University o America Press, 2008). M. urcan, ertullien 50, agrees with the act that the Adversus Iudaeos proves the existence o relations between Jews and Christians in Carthage.
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First, let us recall that Aziza,111 surveying ertullian’s entire corpus, emphasized that the more ertullian depends on Jewish ideas and methodological tools in any particular work, the more he avoids mentioning there the existence o the Jews and even their names. Tis seems to be precisely the case in the De Idololatria. Idololatria. Indeed, both rabbinic themes and tools—or themes and tools very similar to those associated with the rabbis—appear throughout the work, but ertullian never mentions contemporary Jewish practices. Only twice, and only in passing, does he mention the Jews, not to say anything about them, but to show the extent to which idolaters are worse than the Jews, who, or their part, are not at the level o the Christians. 112 And on one other occasion he terms them “Populus “ Populus,” ,”113 or “the People,” but here again he does not dwell upon anything regarding them or their theology or way o lie, but only alludes to a biblical event to illustrate his argument. Second, it must be recalled that ertullian is and typi�es a very particular case. He is a kind o outsider, despite his claim to belong to the mainstream “orthodox” Church. He is open to in�uences rom numerous streams o thought and uses arguments rom all venues (and he came near to conversion to Judaism according to, among others, Aziza), as long as they serve his purposes. Moreover, ertullian is an active Church ather at a time when Christianity still needed to be de�ned precisely. o keep as many options open as possible, in terms o attracting potential converts and acquiring legitimacy or the Church, ertullian plays with the possibility o perceiving the dierence between Jews and Christians. Even in his own texts, they are sometimes distinguishable, while at other times hardly at all. ertullian writes as i the Jews no longer exist and as i he stands in their stead, or, even more precisely, as i he were continuing their work according to the same principles. Tat is why, when necessary, ertullian might use Jewish themes and tools to display closeness to Judaism or might rather remain distant rom the Jews, i it enables him to in�uence and lead the Christians effectively. Tird, we need to examine the relevance o Dunn’s conclusions. One o the main questions Dunn wants to answer is whether the Adversus Iudaeos Iudaeos testi�es to real contacts between Jews and Chris-
111
C. Aziza, ertullien 199. ertullian, De Idololatria 7 and 14 “Iudaei,” “Iudaeis.” 113 ertullian, De Idololatria 3. 112
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tians, or whether ertullian’s Jews in the Adversus Iudaeos are Iudaeos are only a stereotyped invention. At �rst glance, Dunn seems to support Barnes’ position and agrees with him that what ertullian writes about the Jews is based only on what he can iner rom biblical texts. But while Barnes stresses this point to say that ertullian has no acquaintance with contemporary Jewish attitudes, Dunn, in contrast, uses the argument to show that ertullian does know and has some kind o contact with his Jewish neighbors. ertullian does not want his work to become merely a current polemical and aggressive dispute, but to remain a permanent, ongoing, intellectual discussion, which is why he does not attack or even openly reer to his Jewish neighbors. One o his motivations in particular is that he intends to reach—at least indirectly—a Jewish audience and does not want to alienate it. Dunn’s conclusion is that ertullian in act wants to prepare Christians or encounters with the Jews o the city and wants them to have proper arguments at hand, suitable to discussions with them, arguments that are already prepared. ertullian constructs these arguments according to the answers the Christians were lacking in response to Jewish arguments in earlier encounters o the same kind. Dunn also shows that, throughout his work, ertullian knows exactly what to say about the Jews and how, proving his acquaintance with the sensitivity and customs o his Jewish neighbors. I Dunn achieves his goal o proving that Carthaginian Jews and Christians were in contact in the context o the Adversus the Adversus Iudaeos—and Iudaeos—and I believe that he does—then this solves the problem o the De Idololatria. Idololatria. Te Carthaginian Jewish and Christian communities must either have known each other or not. I in the context o the Adversus the Adversus Iudaeos they Iudaeos they know each other, then they must also know each other in the context o the De Idololatria, Idololatria, and thereore the Jewish shadow hanging over the De Idololatria is not merely con jectural, but truly proo that ertullian bene�ted rom Jewish inspiration while writing his treatise. D�� J����� ��� C�������� C���������� M��� �� C������� ? It is now possible to return to the question o contacts between Jews and Christians in Carthage and to observe how the inormation stemming rom the comparison between the De Idololatria and Massekhet Avodah Zarah is consistent with Dunn’s conclusions. Te concern remains to know whether or not such contacts were likely
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in Carthage. As has been seen above,114 the origins o the Church in Arica are obscure. wo suggestions are generally widely accepted, the one being that Carthaginian Christianity was inspired by Rome115 and the other that oriental in�uences reached the harbor city, where the cosmopolitan Semitic culture easily accepted the new religion. Stephen Spence116 emphasizes the Jewish eatures that underly a large part o the Roman Church, explained by its proximity and amiliarity with Jewish traditions, which lead some to believe that Christianity in Rome began within the well-established Roman Jewish community. 117 Hence, i close links between Carthage and Rome are accepted, it is not unlikely that the Carthaginian Church preserved the Jewish character o the Christianity it inherited rom the Romans. Since, as in Rome, the Jews had been established in Carthage beore the �rst evidence o the presence o Christianity there, it may be suggested that in Carthage, too, the Christian community developed out o the Jewish one.118 Te Latin language used by both Jews and Christians in Carthage points to another link between them. Braun believes that the Carthaginian Christians might have decided to use Latin because the Jews used it.119 La Piana120 stresses another motivation or the Latinization o the Church, which is the general Roman tendency to put a brake on the Hellenization o the literature. He nevertheless states that the Latinization o the Church comes under the impulse o Victor o Rome, a bishop o Arican origin. Simon121 also posits that language
114
W. eler, “Te Origins”, o Christianity in Arica,” Studia Patristica 4 (1961) 516 suggests that Christianity in Arica stems rom various origins and that several different Christian groups meet in Carthage. 115 Concerning the general tight relations between the city o Carthage and Rome, see Rankin (supra n. 1) 9–19; also D. Wilhite, ertullian 30. 116 S. Spence, Te Parting o the Ways: the Roman Church as a Case Study (Leuven; (Leuven; Dudley, MA: Peeters, 2004) 10, 17. 117 See Paula Fredriksen concerning the expansion o Christianity through through the synagogues in H. Koester et al., eds., Why Did Christianity Succeed ? From Jesus to Christ. http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/rontline/shows/religion/why/appeal.html, Also A. D. Nock, Conversion (London: Oxord University Press, 1961) 188. 118 Tis recalls the theories o Edrei and Mendels “Split”. 119 R. Braun, Approches 4, 312; Frend (supra n. 42) 189 agrees on this point with G. Quispel, “Te Discussion on Judaic Christianity, Additional Note,” Vigiliae Christianae 22 (1968) 81–93, that the Christians “who at one time ormed part o the synagogue may have inherited the local Latin translation o the Hebrew text (o the Old estament).” 120 G. La Piana, “Te Roman Church at the End o the Second Century,” Harvard Teological Review 18 (1925) 231, 274. 121 M. Simon, Verus Israël , 220–221.
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was a bridge between the Jews and the Christians; rom a scene between R. Abahu and R. Saphra122 he explains that the Christian communities needed the rabbis or precise pronouncements on Hebrew matters. Such a scene provides an example o what might have taken place in Carthage, too, and Simon even adds that the Arican Christian community asked the rabbis to arbitrate exegetical disputes. Tis implies that ertullian could have needed the rabbis to understand the Bible. Tis is Josephine Massingberd-Ford’s suggestion;123 she notes that “ertullian’s interest in Scripture and Judaism seems to appear �rst against Marcion and to become deeper and deeper as he enters more into his Montanist phase.”124 Ford urther asserts that or his deense against Marcion and other heretics’ objections to the Old estament, ertullian needed the rabbis, who could be easily ound in Carthage, to supplement his lack o knowledge on biblical matters. Concerning the connections, in daily lie, between the communities, Aziza125 claims that the social, ethnic, and religious cosmopolitanism in Carthage prevented total separation between Jews and Christians in the city. Frend quotes Minucius Felix’ Octavius Octavius 38.1 and ertullian’s Apologeticum 9.13, Apologeticum 9.13, as well as De Monogamia 5.4, Monogamia 5.4, as evidence that Arican Christians might have bought their meat rom Jewish butchers.126 In Lugdunum, indeed, the Christians bought their meat rom the Jews, as do Muslims nowadays in regions where the Jewish communities
122
Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 4A; there the Palestinian R. Abbahu states he must know biblical exegesis because he has to conront the minim on Old estament exegetical matters, in contrast to the Babylonian R. Saphra, who does not have to and is, anyway, not an expert in biblical matters. Simon maintains that the minim here were members o the Christian community and suggests that the Babylonian Jews did not have to conront them. I. Yuval, wo Nations in your Womb (el-Aviv: Alma, 1999) [Hebrew] 40, nevertheless points at the act that some kinds o Christians can be ound in Babylonian places also. 123 J. Massingberd-Ford, “Was Montanism a Jewish-Christian Heresy ?”, Journal o Ecclesiastical History 17 (1966) 154. 124 Tis is contrary to C. Aziza’s, ertullien belie that ertullian accesses Christianity with a previous knowledge o Judaism. Eusebius, Te Ecclesiastical History , with an English translation by Kirsopp Lake (London: Loeb Classical Library, 1926–1932) Library, 1926–1932) V.XVI.12–16; Eusebius asserts the Montanists are rebuked or not standing in �rm opposition to the synagogue. Stroumsa, “ertullian and the Limits o olerance,” olerance and Intolerance in Early Judaism and Christianity , G.N. Stanton and G.G. Stroumsa, eds. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1998) 181 reminds that patristic scholars ofen accused ertullian o being “too Jewish.” 125 C. Aziza, ertullien 3. 126 Eusebius, Te Ecclesiastical History , by Kirsopp Lake V.I.26; Frend, “Jews and Christians” 186.
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are larger and better organized than the Muslim ones. Nevertheless, it seems that the communities in Carthage were not as dependent on one another as in Lugdunum, as implied in ertullian’s Apologeticum ertullian’s Apologeticum 21.2, 21.2, where he states that the Christians do not observe the Jews’ dietary laws. Barnes’127 position is even that in the second century in Carthage the relations between the communities were characterized by rivalry and competition, and, in his opinion, these eelings are demonstrated more on the Christian side than on the Jewish one. Frend,128 or his part, �nds in ertullian’s pages echoes o “both negative and positive sides o the Jewish-Christian relationships.” But in act rivalry testi�es to actual contacts between the communities and its one-sidedness can be explained, as Fredouille129 insists, by the act that, or the Jews o Carthage, the Christians appear more as sinners or heretics than as members o a new religion. Tereore, even a Church Father can appear close to their Jewish way o thinking when he �ghts idolatry, since it is ofen suggested in rabbinic literature that one who rejects idolatry is like one who accepts and applies the whole orah. 130 So, on the community level, there might have been uncertainty about what makes a Christian different rom a Jew, although, as Boyarin131 asserts, the elite members o the community did try to emphasize the differences between Jews and Christians. o summarize: Jews and Christians in Carthage were almost certainly in contact, though it cannot be stated with certainty whether their relations were good and peaceul or bad and aggressive. Some archaeologists and scholars claim that the cemetery o Gamarth was the resting place o both Jews and Christians. Such a act would certainly attest to very good relationships between the communities, but no de�nitive proo o this can be offered and the suggestion remains controversial. Concerning ertullian’s hatred o the Jews, expressed in certain o his works, what must be stressed is that ertullian’s strategies are always precisely adapted to his audience and his polemical needs.
127
. D. Barnes, ertullian 330. Frend, “A note on on ertullian and the Jews,” Studia Patristica 10 (1970)296. 129 J-C. Fredouille, ertullien 270; see also Frend, Schism 40: “For some years, too, the Christians were regarded by the Carthaginian Jews as ‘Nazarenes’, that is, schismatics rom their own body” (ertullian, adversus Marcionem IV.8.1). 130 Babylonian almud Meguilah 13 A–B, Sanhedrin 19B, Hullin 5B. 131 D. Boyarin, Dying 101: “Te rabbis themselves understood that in notably signi�cant ways there was no difference between Christians and Jews and the difference had to be maintained via discursive orce, via tour de orce.” 128
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Tereore his hatred o the Jews is but a tool and aspect o his apologetics in speci�c given rameworks.132 Aziza133 concludes that, despite the theological controversies, Jews and Christians lived in peace in Carthage. Once it is agreed that there were both Jews and Christians in Carthage, can it possibly be claimed that they were never in contact? ertullian himsel may not have known any Jews personally, and Jews almost certainly did not read ertullian’s works. Nevertheless, in their everyday lives, the Jews and Christians o Carthage surely met and discussed issues dear to their hearts, especially since, as monotheists, they would have elt closer to each other than to the pagans o their city. For these discussions, the Christians would have needed polemical ammunition, and ertullian supplied it. Hence, ertullian might well have been aware o Jewish arguments, without having any direct contact with Jews. Just as the Jews used to describe real events to their rabbis in order to obtain rabbinic rulings in matters in which the rabbis were not personally involved and might never conront directly, it is likely that ertullian’s community reerred to him or advice 134 and
132
J-C. Fredouille, ertullien 268 asserts that, in a general way, ertullian is never very aggressive toward the Jews and tries rather to convince them to adopt the new religion than to attack them. G. Dunn, ertullian’s 53 also states that ertullian does not show open hostility towards the Jews so as not diminish his persuasiveness i they happened to hear, directly or indirectly, the ideas that are to be ound in his writings. 133 C. Aziza, ertullien 37. 134 Te situation is the same as in the Jewish commentator Rashi’s time. Te Christians mock and attack their Jewish neighbors on matters o exegesis or practice, and Rashi through his teaching and commentaries provides his community with tools and ready-made answers to help them deeat the Christian arguments in urther encounters. ertullian himsel describes such a situation in his treatise against the Jews, and i someone wishes to maintain that this work is not really ertullian’s, a similar situation is described with respect to contacts with the different heretics whom ertullian attacks. In his recent book, G. Dunn, ertullian’s, tries to demonstrate rom a rhetorical perspective, �rst, the authenticity, integrity, and ertullian’s authorship o the treatise, and second, that ertullian wants his work to be a contribution to the debate between Jews and Christians and to provide arguments and debating points to his ellow Christians in their encounters with Jews. ( Ibid. 51), Dunn contends concerning the Adversus Iudaeos, that the author addresses a Christian readership and through it a Jewish audience, but this can be applied to ertullian’s entire canon. Besides his general statements aiming to deny any knowledge o Jewish matters in ertullian’s works, Barnes mocks as stupidity ertullian’s “wrong” assertion, among others, that Jewish women are veiled. Tis might not be an error, but a act that ertullian knew about directly—rom the reality he conronts—or indirectly. [ertullian, De Corona Militis 4.2, De Oratione 22.8; C. Aziza, ertullien 21 compares De Virginibus Velandis 17.22 concerning veiled women in Arabia with Mishnah Shabbat 6.6 about Jewish
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inormed him o the context o the arguments. William Horbury 135 points at the act that ertullian was amiliar with contemporary Jewish anti-Christian arguments, that he takes them into account and pro vides answers to them.136 Within this ramework there are three main protagonists who prevent ertullian rom giving allacious arguments. Tese are the Jews, the Christians, and the potential converts. Beginning with the Jews and the Christians, the Jews knew their traditions and, in the general missionary climate, the Christians came to them and tried to convince them that they are wrong in clinging to their old aith. On the one hand, the Christians would have reported the Jews’ arguments to ertullian, who would then have no reason to construct �ctional ones. On the other hand, ertullian had to provide strong and true answers, which the Jews could not mock and easily destroy. As or the potential converts, they inquired into both o the religions, and maybe even into Judaism beore Christianity, because it was older. ertullian could not lie to them either, because they knew what Judaism proposes, and they always had the option o asking the Jews directly whether ertullian’s answers were valid. Here again, ertullian had to use solid arguments to convince wavering potential converts to choose Christianity rather than Judaism, and even to persuade hesitating neo-
Arabian women being veiled. C. Setzer, “Jews, Jewish Christians, and Judaizers in North Arica,” Putting Body and Soul ogether: Essays in Honor o Robin Scroggs, Wiles et al., eds. (Valley Forge PA: rinity Press International, 1997)190 also elaborates that concerning the veiling o women (and ritual bathing as well) not every one o ertullian’s arguments can be ound in biblical prescriptions. Tereore she believes he knows the Jews o his city. Also Cohen, Beginnings 31 who states that it is likely that the Jewish women in Carthage, coming originally rom the eastern Roman empire where all women used to be veiled, were distinguishable by their veil. It would be one more clue that ertullian knew his contemporary Jewish neighbors. C. Aziza, ertullien 280–285 argues that ertullian makes a difference between the biblical “Hebrews” and the more contemporary “Jews” or “Israelites.”]. 135 W. Horbury, Jews and Christians in Contact Contact and Controversy (Edinburgh: . & . Clark, 1998) 179, W. Horbury, “ertullian on the Jews in the Light o De Spectaculis XXX 5–6,” Journal o Teological Studies 23 (1972) 455–459. For instance, in his treatise against the Jews, chapter 10, ertullian seems to know indeed exactly what Jewish belies are. 136 Horbury actually believes that ertullian did have some direct contacts with the Jews in Carthage. Tus, i ertullian knew about Jewish controversies and attacks against the Christians–even i some scholars would claim that the Jews were hardly interested in the Christians and almost never write against them—he might also have been aware o other Jewish discussions. It is possible that ideas rom the Mishnah Avodah Zarah reached his ears. D. Boyarin, Dying 63 n. 77 also states that “it is not impossible that ertullian had contact with contemporary Hebrew tradition as well.” See also C. Aziza, ertullien 20.
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phytes that they had made the correct choice in becoming Christians and to prove to them that the Jews were wrong. It seems most probable that the picture emerging rom the latter arguments shows that the Jewish and Christian communities o Carthage were constrained to relate to one another, and ertullian, as a Christian apologist, was well aware o Jewish thought and ideas. It goes without saying that the Christians tried to convert the Jews. Does our comparison o De Idololatria Idololatria and Massekhet Avodah Zara provide indications that the opposite was also the case. I rerained rom addressing the question above. Now, however, it is appropriate to sketch out brie�y what my position on the matter is. Following the approaches o Will, Orrieux, Cohen, and Goodman137 or instance, I would say, approximately and without detailing all the nuances, that Jews in antiquity were not interested in making converts, even i they accepted among their ranks the most persistent o the people who wished to join them. Nevertheless, I believe that a particular kind o mission existed within the Jewish community, and this was an internally oriented one. In other words, Judaism took a missionary stance toward those who are already a part o their community. Te aim was to retain Jewish members and also to keep prospective Jews, outside o the community, who had already begun to get close to Judaism. Within the synagogue, it appears that the leaders o the Jews did have a missionary attitude, which consisted in convincing hesitating people that Judaism was better than Christianity and, in a general way, shielding their affiliated members rom Christian in�uence. But such a Jewish mission was, once again, not interested in acquiring new members, but rather in taking good care o those who had drawn close to Judaism upon their own initiative. Te internally oriented mission o the Jews in ertullian’s time was mainly directed against the in�uence o the Christians who came to their community to appropriate, as it were, the Jewish members and their proselytes. Tis proves not only that there were contacts, links, and in�uences between Christians and Jews at that time, but also that the members o both religions were still very involved with one another. Tis would also re�ect the act that
137
E. Will, C. Orrieux, Ioudaïsmos-Hellénismos (Nancy: Presses universitaires de Nancy; 1986), E. Will, C. Orrieux, Prosélytisme jui ? Histoire d’une erreur (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1992); M. Goodman, Mission and Conversion (Oxord: Clarendon Press 1994); S. J. D. Cohen, or instance among many others: “Was Judaism in Antiquity a Missionary Religion ?”, Studies in Jewish Civilization 2, M. Mor, ed. (Lanham 1992).
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Christians were still seeking converts within the Jewish community and that they did not completely abandon this source o proselytes in avor o a Gentile source. Tat Carthaginian Christians were still to be ound in the synagogues in ertullian’s time, and that they still believed that the people who requented synagogues were potential converts to Christianity, is seen in ertullian’s De Fuga Fuga 6.2–3, where he encourages preaching Christianity to the Gentiles, and not only to the Jews as Matthew recommended. Tis seems to re�ect the state o mind o ertullian’s disciples, who still regarded the Jews as their primary target and as accessible to their message; which means that the Jews were not yet very distinguishable rom the Christians and were closer to them than to the Gentiles. ertullian’s exhortation to renew the aims o their mission is a testimony to his endeavor to change the nature o Christian proselytizing and to make the borderlines between Judaism and Christianity clearer to their respective members. Tis tendency appears as well in the De Idololatria’s Idololatria’s relative social openness, which is supposed to allow Christians to �nd potential converts among the Gentiles. Tis concern with groups other than the Jews enhances the impression that the natural tendency was precisely, to address the Jews. Indeed, it appears rom ertullian’s attitudes towards proselytism that Christianity at his time was still naturally and strongly oriented toward the Jewish community and that it did not automatically look or converts mainly among the Gentiles as yet. Once again, De Idololatria Idololatria does not mention the Jews and is concerned only with the idolaters, their practices, and the way in which Christians must behave toward them. Troughout his prescriptions concerning how Christians must behave in a pagan environment, ertullian sketches out options or approaching them and eventually attracting them to Christianity without being de�led by their practices. He thus reorients Christian interest toward the Gentiles rather than the Jews, to make their separation rom the Jews more effective. It may be argued rom another point o view that ertullian nevertheless tries a last time to gain Jews to Christianity, writing a treatise on idolatry close in spirit and detail to the Jewish one, thus proving to the Jews that they renounce none o their principles concerning the pagans when joining Christianity.
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C��������� Tis study has ocused on some particular examples and illustrations Idololatria in an attempt to o ertullian’s general approach in De Idololatria demonstrate that most o the probabilities converge toward the inescapable conclusion that ertullian was most probably inspired by Jewish elements in the redaction o the text. He must have been aware o Jewish modes o thought and must have used them. Although he has been accused o heresy, it is now widely recognized by scholars that ertullian never lef the main Christian old and, that he remained a aithul representative o the Church o his time. From another point o view, the comparison between the De Idololatria and tria and massekhet Avodah Zarah illustrates, Zarah illustrates, rom a Christian perspective, a model which regards Judaism and Christianity as still engaged with each other at the end o the second century C.E., at least on a social level. Te �nal question that this study raises is the wider application o that model. What can be learned about Jewish-Christian relationships o that period rom the provisional conclusions concerning Idololatria o the Carthaginian ertulthe relationship between the De Idololatria o lian, who appears to be personally and particularly closely related to Judaism, and the rabbinic Massekhet Massekhet Avodah Zarah really Zarah really teach about wider-ranging. Te only de�nitive conclusion that can be inerred rom the study is that when Jewish and Christian communities coexisted in the same place—even though their respective leaders worked hard to maintain a clear theological boundary —on the interpersonal, individual, and social levels they were still intertwined and shared their ideas and religious experience. Tis is true especially because they remained so close together and, at the same time, so hostile to one another on certain points, in an environment that was so alien to their nearly common way o lie. Teir relationship was one o proximity, but o rivalry as well. Such proximity in their daily lives lef an imprint that is strongly elt in the writings addressed to each respective community. Te Christian leaders still needed to take Jewish positions into account on certain issues and even, on occasion, some o their attacks against Christianity. On the other hand, the more the Church spread its message and gained power, the more the Jews needed to deal with and deuse Christian polemics and develop apologetic local literature appropriate to the character o the Christianity they had to ace, when they were not simply attracted by Christian ideas, which
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they adopted and tried to tint with Jewish colors. Eventually, in order to be strong enough to conront a Christianity that became more and more organized and consistent throughout the world, Judaism had to learn to de�ne, deend, and cling to a roughly common line o thought wherever it encountered Christianity. A������� Identi�cation o the estivals quoted in Mishnah Avodah Zarah 1.3 Mishnah Mishnah Avodah Zarah Zarah 1.3. Also see its parallels in osefa osefa Avodah Zarah 1.4, Jerusalem almud, Avodah almud, Avodah Zarah 39c, Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 6A. Te manuscripts propose many variants o the orthography o the terms or those three main estivals. In his critical edition o Mishnah Mishnah Avodah Zarah, Zarah, D. Rosenthal, Mishnah Mishnah Avodah Zarah, Critical Edition (Jerusalem: Edition (Jerusalem: the Hebrew University, 1981) (Hebrew) surveys all the different occurrences. In the case o the three estivals, he �nds: “, , , , , , , , , , , /, , , , , , / , .” Actually, those variants have little importance, since all commentators, both traditional and modern, tend to agree on the identi�cation o the celebrations. Te �rst estival implying a prohibition o trade or three days is considered to be the Roman Calends, which is a monthly estival marking the beginning o every month. A. L. Elmslie, Te Mishnah Mishnah on idolatry, ’Aboda Zara (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1911)19 explains that the estivals implying three days o cessation o trade and relationships between the Jews and the pagans are called eriae called eriae publicae, publicae , public estivals, and he states that the monthly celebrations o the Calends were no more than private ones. Tereore, he theorizes that the rabbis reer to the Calends o January, which were a real public estival or the New Year. According to the two almuds, Adam, the �rst man, is the one who instituted such a celebration. Te Jerusalem Te Jerusalem almud Avodah almud Avodah Zarah 39c explains: “ [. . .] ”—“Te �rst man [i.e. Adam] instituted the Calends. When he saw the nights were getting longer, he said: ‘woe is me ! Perhaps it concerns o whom it is written
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he shall bruise your head and you shall bruise his heel, perhaps he is going to come and bite me. . . . When he saw the days were growing longer he said, ‘Kalondeo.’” Tis anecdote takes into account that the ishri and at that time Adam did world was created in the month o ishri and not know that rom the end o December on, the days would grow longer again. His claiming o “Kalondeo” is thus supposed to occur in January, that is, when the days become longer at the beginning o the Roman year. Hence the rabbis seem to consider the Calends o January and no others as one o the main Roman estivals. Further, the Jerusalem almud Avodah almud Avodah Zarah 39c tells another story, about the death o the general o the Roman army “ ,” that is “January” in honor o whom the celebration is instituted. At any rate, regardless o the origin o the estival, every one agrees that it occurs in January. Te Babylonian almud Avodah Zarah 8A places it eight days afer the “period,” or “, ” which is in the month o evet , hence the end o December. Following the almudim, almudim, the commentators do not hesitate about identiying the “Calends” with the celebration o the Roman New Year. Te second estival is identi�ed with the Saturnalia. Elmslie (ibid. ( ibid. 21) describes them as the “most remarkable o the heathen estivals” that imply “unrestrained merrymaking.” According to the two almuds, the commentators place them “eight days beore the period”, “ .” Te third estival is identi�ed as κράτησις. According to the Jerusalem almud Avodah Zarah 39c, Zarah 39c, it is the day on which Rome seized the world-empire, “ ” and in the in the Babylonian almud Avodah mud Avodah Zarah 8B, the day on which Rome seized the empire, “ .” Different interpretations o which that day could be are proposed, but the most widely accepted is that it is the celebration in honor o Augustus’ victory in Actium. Elmslie (ibid. ( ibid. 22) 22) ollows H. Blauuss, Römische Feste und Feiertage nach den ractaten über remden Dienst (Nürnberg: J. L. Stich, 1909), in his remark concerning the plural orm “ .” For them, there are several kratisim, sim, at least two, that would be Dies Imperii or Imperii or Empire days, the �rst in commemoration o the commencement o the Principate and the second a ‘Coronation-day’ commemorating the assumption o imperial office by the reigning Caesar. According to D. Sperber, Dictionary o Greek and Latin Legal erms (Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 1984) 195–6, the orm stems rom the misunderstanding that
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the word is a plural and should be , rom the Greek κρατήσις, a “Roman estival commemorating the conquest o eastern countries.” Both S. Lieberman, Yevanit veYavnut beEretz Israel (Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik 1962) [Hebrew] 8, and D. Rosenthal, Mishnah 241–242 reach the conclusion that the expression, “the day on which Rome seized the empire”—“ ”, explains the term , and means the day on which Augustus captured Alexandria.
INDEX OF ANCIEN SOURCES O�� �������� Genesis 19, 21: 68, 71 37, 34: 150
2 Samuel 2, 22: 72 7, 10: 98
Exodus 12, 49: 89 15, 17: 98 20, 4: 182 23, 3: 208 34, 15–16: 200
Ezekiel 8, 16: 40 20, 30: 60 36, 25–27: 12
Leviticus 19, 15: 72 19, 18: 10, 11 26, 9: 71 Numbers 6, 23: 74 6, 26: 67, 68, 77 10, 35–36: 184 15, 16: 89 16, 41–50: 93 Deuteronomy 4, 16: 182 10, 17: 67, 68, 71, 77 23, 19: 47, 58 27, 15: 182 32, 8–9: 89 Judges 11, 24: 89 Isaiah 1, 15: 71 56, 7: 152
Daniel 7, 13: 14 Zachariah 2, 7: 38 14, 20–21: 12, 13 Amos 3, 2: 42 Micah 1, 7: 48 Hosea 5, 6: 81 Malachi 2, 13–14: 150 1 Kings 7, 25: 183 8, 57: 183 10, 20: 183 2 Chronicles 19, 7: 68
Jeremiah 2, 20: 60 7, 11: 152
Daniel 9, 27: 151 11, 32: 151 12, 11: 151
1 Samuel 1, 22: 74 26, 19: 88
Proverbs 2, 19: 59 5, 8: 47, 59
232 7, 23: 59, 60 7, 26: 47 9, 2: 59
����� �� ������� ������� Esther 6, 13: 90
Ecclesiastes 8, 1: 63 10, 8: 56
Psalms 51, 9–14 132, 8: 184 137: 89
Job 42, 9: 70, 71, 72
2 Kings 17, 26–27: 90 A��������� L���������
1 Maccabees 1, 54: 151 2, 29–41: 6 13, 4: 139 2 Maccabees 2, 17: 139 4, 35–36: 94 4, 49: 94 3 Maccabees 1, 3: 94 2, 31: 94
3, 4: 95 3, 8–10: 94 7, 10–15: 94 Wisdom o Salomon 18, 20–25: 93 18, 21: 94 Letter o Aristeas 141–155: 96 Ascension o Isaiah 4, 13: 118 N�� ��������
Gospel o Matthew 3, 9: 100 4, 17: 13 5, 17: 19 5, 21–48: 10 5, 21: 14 5, 23–24: 13 5, 43: 10 5, 44–45: 11 5, 47: 172 5–7: 10 5, 17: 184 5, 21: 183 6, 31–32: 171 6, 34: 14 10, 5: 171 10, 8: 12 11, 5: 12 11, 15–18: 13 11, 19: 11 13, 43: 174 17, 2: 173
18, 20: 183 21, 11: 20, 25 21, 12–17: 18 21, 23–27: 18 22, 35–40: 26 23, 1: 151 23, 15: 172, 196 23, 35: 125 23, 38: 151 24, 15: 124 24, 15–20: 115 24, 16: 116 25, 24: 20 25, 41: 174 26, 27–28: 175 26, 61: 144 Gospel o Mark 1, 2–3: 155 1, 4: 9 1, 10: 150 1, 15: 13
����� �� ������� ������� 1, 40–44: 147 1, 40–45: 12 2, 14–15–17: 11 2, 23–28: 6 3, 1–6: 6 3, 4: 6 5, 1–20: 122 7, 15: 6, 12 7, 24–37: 12 7, 27–28: 172 8, 31: 174 9, 3: 173 9, 31: 174 10, 34: 174 11, 7: 141 11, 11: 153 11, 12–14: 156 11, 15: 153 11, 15–16: 141 11, 15–18: 8, 13 11, 17–18: 8, 152 11, 22–24: 156 11, 27: 148, 153 12, 32–34: 148 12, 35: 148 12, 36: 155 12, 35–44: 153 12, 41–44: 148 13, 1: 148, 150 13, 5–13: 151 13, 14: 151 13, 14–16: 117 13, 14–18: 115 13, 15–23: 121 13, 24: 151 14, 3: 12 14, 12–16: 146 14, 22–24: 145, 155 14, 27: 155 14, 48–49: 153 14, 57: 143 14, 59: 143 14, 58: 8, 143 14, 62: 155 15, 29–30: 143 15, 37–38: 149 Gospel o Luke 1,11: 174 3, 8: 100 5, 8.30: 11 7, 34.36–50: 11 9, 29: 173 10, 1–16: 14
10, 4: 14 12, 8–9: 14 13, 1: 101 13, 10–17: 6 13, 35: 151 15, 1–2: 11 17, 11–19: 12 18, 11–13: 11 19, 7: 11 19, 42–44: 116 21, 5–6: 151 21, 20–21: 126 21, 20–24: 115, 116, 117, 119, 138 22, 20: 176 24, 4: 174 24, 13–27: 102 24, 4: 174 Gospel o John 2, 6: 178 2, 19–21 2, 19–22: 157 4, 24: 8 5, 2: 178 5, 9: 178 6, 4: 178 7, 2: 178 7, 53–8, 11: 11 9, 7: 178 10, 22: 178 10, 23: 178 11, 18: 178 18, 1: 178 18, 28: 178 19, 13: 178 19, 36: 178 Acts o the Apostles 1, 8: 103 5, 19: 174 5, 37: 102 6, 9: 94 6, 14: 143 9, 11: 88 10, 1: 94 10, 9–16: 7 11, 26: 22 14, 11–18: 179 15, 1–4: 21 15, 20: 21 16, 1–2: 21 17, 16: 179 17, 17–31: 179 18, 18: 179
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19, 1–7: 103 19, 23–40: 178 21, 20: 21 21, 39: 88 22, 3: 88 26, 28: 22 Epistle to the Galatians 2, 11–21: 21 3, 6–9: 95 3, 19: 179 3, 24: 96 3, 26: 93 3, 28: 95 4, 4: 171 5, 3: 21 5, 14: 26, 148 Epistle to the Romans 1, 23–32: 180 3, 20: 179 3, 23–26: 145 3, 31: 179 4, 15: 179 5, 20: 179 7, 14: 179 7, 14–24: 104 8, 4: 179 11, 25: 173 12, 1: 94, 158 13, 8–10: 179 14, 14: 155 15, 16: 158 16, 25: 173 Epistle to the Philippians 2, 17: 158 3, 20: 93 Epistle to the Colossians 1, 26–27: 173 2, 8: 180 2, 16–17: 97 3, 11: 95 Epistle to the Ephesians 2, 14: 95 5, 14: 173 1 Epistle to the Corinthians 1, 15: 173 1, 51: 173 2, 4: 173 2, 6: 173 3, 16: 93, 158
6, 12–19: 158 6, 19: 94 8, 10–13: 181 9, 13: 158 10, 14–21: 146 10, 16–18: 145 10, 21: 181 15, 3: 145 2 Epistle to the Corinthians 2, 13–15: 158 6, 14: 158 6, 16: 93 7, 1: 158 Epistle to the Hebrews 7, 11–12: 157 7, 18–19: 157 1 Peter 4, 16: 22 Book o Revelation 2, 14: 181 2, 20: 181 12, 6: 118 21, 22: 157 Clementine Recognitions 1, 37, 2: 113, 114, 119, 137 1, 39, 3: 113, 115, 119, 137 1, 41, 3: 149 Justin Martyr Apologia 1, 66: 169 Dialogue with rypho 47, 1–4: 21 70, 78: 169 ertullian Ad Scapulam 5, 2: 189 Ad Nationes 1, 13, 4: 192 Adversus Marcionem 4, 8, 1: 2222 Apologeticum 9, 13: 221 46: 213
����� �� ������� ������� De Praescriptione Haereticorum 4: 169 36: 189 De Idolatria 1: 202, 203 1, 4: 203 3: 218 6, 2: 210 7: 218 8, 1: 203 8, 5: 214 10, 6: 208, 209 11: 213 13: 201 13, 4: 198 13, 4–5: 212 14: 218 14, 4: 198 14, 5: 209 14, 6: 198 15: 199, 215 15, 1: 198, 217 15, 6: 104 15, 11: 215 16: 200 16, 5: 215 20, 2: 207, 208 20, 5: 210 22, 2: 211 23: 210 23, 1: 210 De Corona 4, 2: 223 15: 169 De Baptismo 5: 169 De Fuga 6, 2–3: 226 De Monogamia 5, 4: 221 De Spectaculis 2, 9: 202 3, 3: 205 8: 174 8, 8: 205 15: 206 17, 1: 205
18, 20: 206 21, 2: 205 De Oratione 22, 8: 223 De Virginibus Velandis 17, 22: 223 De Pudicitia 5, 5: 203 Minucius Felix Octavius 38, 1: 221 Clement o Alexandria Stromatae 7, 7: 192 Ambrose o Milan De Sacramentis 5, 2, 7: 185 Epiphanus o Salamis Panarion 29, 7, 7–8: 112, 136 30, 2, 7: 112, 121, 136 De Mensuris et Ponderibus 15: 112, 133, 137 Eusebius o Caesarea Ecclesiastical History 2, 23: 133 3, 5, 2–3: 109, 136 3, 11: 132, 133 3, 22: 133 3, 33: 133 3, 35: 133 4, 5, 3: 133 4, 6, 4: 133 5, 26: 221 6, 20, 1: 111 6, 32, 3: 111 Demonstratio Evangelica 3, 5: 133 Teophania 5, 45: 13 Pseudo Augustine Quaest vet. Et nov. est: 114
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Mishna
Yoma 8, 9: 13 Yebamot 3, 13: 51 16, 7: 32 Abodah Zarah 1, 1: 212 1, 3: 184, 197, 200, 228 1, 4: 199 1, 5: 212, 213 1, 7: 203, 204 3, 6: 216 3, 7: 216 6, 6: 223 Abot 1, 2: 139 2, 14: 80, 172
osefa Abodah Zarah 1, 1: 212 1, 4: 200, 228 1, 21: 213 2, 5: 204 2, 6: 206 2, 7: 205, 206 2, 8–9: 215 3, 2: 209 4, 6: 202 5, 2: 183 5, 9–10: 216 6, 5–6: 204 6, 11: 208 Yebamoth 3, 3–4: 51 4, 7: 47
Bikurim 3, 2–3: 199
Hulin 2, 18: 175 2, 22–23: 56 2, 24
amid 5, 1: 36
Negaim 9, 9: 82 P���������� �����
Berakhot 1, 5: 37 4, 5 (8b): 40
Sanhedrin 7, 10 (25c): 175 10, 6 (29c): 183
Shaqalim 3, 2 (47c): 62
Abodah Zarah 9d: 203 39c: 200, 228, 229 39d: 199, 213 40a: 204, 206 2, 2 (40d): 51 3, 2 (42c–42d): 183
Sabbath 14, 4 (14d): 51 Meguila 4, 11 (75c): 74 Gittin 7, 1 (48c): 175 Ketuboth 11, 3 (34b): 77
erumoth 1, 1 (40b): 175
����� �� ������� ������� B��������� ����� Berakhot 12a: 34 20b: 70 23a–b: 62 26a: 62 Zevahim 62b: 183 116b: 77 Pesahim 25a–b: 203 56a: 29, 34, 35 104a: 183 Sabbath 10a: 62 31a: 148 70a: 43 116a: 31 Betsa 38b: 43 Eruvin 45b: 43 80a: 31 Yoma 11a: 43 58b: 183 66b: 51 82a: 203 Meguila 13a–b: 222 25b: 73 Roch hachana 17b: 72, 76 Hagigah 5b: 81 Sukah 21a: 184 52b: 43 Gittin 56a–b: 130, 131 60b: 74
Ketuboth 19a: 203 97a: 37 Sota 47a: 55 Yebamoth 46a: 76, 82 102b: 81 Nidah 69b–70b: 77 70b: 70 Nedarim 49a: 62 49b: 63 Baba Qama 13a: 77 Baba Mezia 16b: 37 35a: 37 59b: 62, 150 Baba Batra 8a: 196 10a: 184 13b: 37 25a: 38 31a: 37 100b–102b: 194 113a: 43 Sanhedrin 19b: 222 38a: 37 38b: 172 38b–39a: 75 41a: 43 43a: 55 68a: 62 74a: 203 107b: 54 Abodah Zarah 4a: 42, 221 6a: 228 6b: 198
237
238 8a: 202, 229 8b: 200 10b–11a: 202 12b: 199 13a: 199 14a: 213 16b–17a: 47, 58, 61 18b: 204, 206 19b: 203 20a: 200 27b: 203 31b: 200 35b: 200 48a: 31
����� �� ������� ������� Menakhot 99b: 57 Hulin 5b: 222 51a: 43 53b: 37 62a: 37 133a: 43 Bekhorot 4a: 43 10b: 41 emurah 29a: 216 M�������� ����������
Mekhilta on Exodus Bo 15: 76, 82 Kaspa 4: 211 Sira 4, 12: 148 Siri on Numbers 42: 67, 68, 70, 73 Siri on Deuteronomy Veethnanane 34: 51 Genesis Rabba 50, 530: 68 Exodus Rabba 51, 4: 83 Deuteronomy Rabba Haazinu 1: 69 Leviticus Rabba 22, 8: 175 Numbers Rabba 11, 7: 73 Lamentations Rabba 1, 5: 130 1, 31: 130
Qoheleth Rabba 1, 8: 46, 60 11: 191 Ruth Rabba 2, 22: 205 Midrash on Proverbs 15: 130 Midrash on Psalms 9: 149 89: 148 anhuma Naso 18: 69 zav 5: 69 Abot de Rabbi Nathan 2/a: 47, 59 3/b: 59 4/a: 130, 148 6/b: 130 9/b: 148 26/b: 148 Derekh Eretz Rabba 5, 12: 47 Seder Eliahu Rabba 9: 52
����� �� ������� ������� Siri Zutah Naso 6, 248: 69
Yalquth Shimoni Naso: 76
Midrash annaim al seer Debarim 12, 5, 48: 77 22, 5: 47
Micah 1: 46
Qoheleth Zutah 1, 7: 63 Pesiqta de-Rav Kahana 40b: 6
Proverbs 5, 8: 46 Maimonides Hilkhot Maakhalot Asurot 17, 6: 200 17, 12: 201 J�������
Vita 12: 183 Antiquities 13, 397: 122 18, 3, 1: 182 18, 5, 3: 182 18, 312: 32 20, 49–53: 196 20, 98: 102 20, 100–103: 134 20, 200: 94, 125, 171 War 1, 33, 2: 182 2, 8, 2: 180 2, 9, 2: 182 2, 423: 152 2, 457: 128 2, 458: 121 2, 480: 122 2, 556: 135 4, 106–107: 117 4, 130: 119, 120, 124, 127, 128, 129,130 4, 135: 124 4, 155: 124 4, 162–192: 153 4, 163: 153 4, 171–172: 153 4, 181: 153
4, 201: 152 4, 236: 127 4, 241–242: 152 4, 262: 152 4, 335: 125 4, 363: 125 4, 377: 123, 124 4, 384: 127 4, 397: 123 4, 410: 130 4, 414: 125 4, 438: 119, 120, 125, 129 4, 440: 128 4, 444: 119, 120 4, 450: 125, 126 4, 486: 129 4, 490: 124 4, 574: 135 5, 50: 129 5, 402: 152 6, 113: 128 6, 113–116: 129 6, 113–118: 132 6, 117: 130 6, 115: 119, 120 6, 237: 97 Against Apion 1, 179: 88 2, 193–198: 139
239
240
����� �� ������� ������� P���� �� A���������
On Dreams 2, 248–251: 93 Lie o Moses 2, 17–24: 94
Embassy to Gaius 38: 182 361: 95 On the Migration o Abraham 89–93: 97
Q����� L��������� Damascus Document 4, 2, 3: 98 14, 3–6: 99
9, 5–6: 98 9, 9–11: 99 11, 9–11: 104
Manual o Discipline 8, 5–6: 98
emple Scroll 29, 9–10: 143 P���� L���������
acitus Annals 15, 44: 22
Virgil Eneide 3, 67–68: 184
Histories 5, 4, 1: 95
Plotin Asclepsius 32: 173
Codex Teodosianus 10: 165 16: 165 22: 165
Plutarch De Facie 82, 943d: 173
INDEX OF ANCIEN NAMES Aaron: 91 Abaye: 43 Abbahu (R.): 42, 221 Abraham: 91 Ambrose o Milan: 22 Amemar: 29, 36 Ami (R.): 70 Aphrodite: 165 Aqiba (R.): 9, 47, 76, 77, 131, 148, 196 Aretas the Nabatean: 182 Aristo: 111 Ashi (R.): 36, 37 Asi (R.): 70 Augustine: 164 Avira (R.): 70 Bardessan: 24 Bar-Kokhba (S.): 9 Beruriah: 76 Caius Caligula: 22 Celsus: 19, 21 Constantine: 22 Dimi (R.): 34 Dionysos: 165 Eleazar ban Arakh (R.): 80 Eleazar ben Dama (R.): 56, 57 Eliezer ben Hyrcanus (R.): 45, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 59, 62, 66, 80 Ephrem the Syrian: 24 Epiphanius o Salamis : 23, 107, 111, 126, 133 Eusebius o Caesarea: 23, 107, 111, 114, 115, 118, 126 Eutychius: 134 Ezra: 91 Firmicus Maternus: 164 Fortuna: 63 Gamaliel (R.): 75, 80 Hadrian: 151 Hanina ben Dosa: 8
Hannanel (R.): 39 Hegesippus: 109 Herod Antipas: 183 Herod the Great: 182 Hillel (the Elder): 10, 11, 15, 148 Hizkiyah ben Manoah (Hizkuni): 72 Honi the Circle Maker: 8 Hormizd IV: 34 Horus-Harpocrate: 167 Ibn Ezra: 75 Ignatius o Antioch: 22, 23, 24, 25 Irenaeus o Lyon: 21 Ishmael (R.): 38, 56, 57 Isis: 167, 168 Isocrates: 91 Iuvenalis: 19 Jacob bar Aha (R.): 40, 41 Jacob de Kear Sama: 56 Jacob de Kear Siknin (=Sahany’a): 46, 48, 64 Johanan (bar Naphaha): 70 Johanan ben Zakkaï (R.): 6, 77, 81, 120, 131, 143 John o Gischala: 130 John the Baptist: 9, 99 John: 103 Jonah (R.): 62, 63 Jose ban Dostai (R.): 77 Jose the Priest (R.): 78 Joseph, (R.): 43 Josephus: 22 Joshua (R.): 49, 77, 78, 81 Joshua ben Korha: 59 Joshua ben Levi (R.): 51 Joshua ben Perahyah: 55 Judah (R.): 36, 62, 63 Judah Ha-Nassi (R.): 172 Julius Aricanus: 111 Justin Martyr: 22, 24, 81 Marcus Aurelius: 19 Mari (R.): 34 Mary (mother o Jesus): 168 Menahem the Sicarii: 152 Mercury: 164
242
����� �� ������� �����
Mithra: 168, 176 Nahman (R.): 29, 37, 43 Nathan (R.): 36, 37 Osiris: 167 Paul o arsus: 20, 92, 94, 99, 103, 148, 179, 180 Philo o Alexandria: 24 Placidus: 129 Pline (the Young): 22, 46 Pontius Pilate: 102 Rabbah: 43 Rachi: 49 Rashbam: 75 Ru�nius: 115 Sara (R.): 42, 43, 221 Seth-rypho: 167 Sherira Gaon (R.): 34 Sheshet (R.): 29, 38, 40, 41, 43 Shmuel (Amora): 29 Simeon bar Giora: 152 Simeon ben Azaï (R.): 51, 77 Simeon ben Shetah: 55
Suetonius: 22 Symeon o Clopas: 132 acitus: 19 ahlia o Caesarea: 70 ertullian: 164, 187, 189, 190, 192, 200, 202, 203, 206, 208, 209, 210, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 221, 222, 226, 227 Teodosius: 22 iberius Alexander: 134 imothy: 20 itus: 129 rajan: 23, 45 Vespasian: 123, 124, 126, 129, 132, 134 Victor o Rome: 220 Vincent o Lerins: 17 Vitellius: 182 Yeshu ha-notsri: 47 Yeshua ben Pantiri (=Pantera): 46, 51, 56 Yonathan, (R.): 60 Yose bar Abun (R.): 40 Zeresh: 90
INDEX OF MODERN NAMES Abramov, S. Z.: 88 Abramson, S.: 48 Ahdut, E.: 30, 35, 38 Ahrend, A.: 38 Albeck, H.: 41, 43, 70 Alexander, P.: 50 Allison, D. C.: 116 Alon, G.: 57, 79, 80, 112, 120, 131 Amar, Z.: 63 Angus, S.: 166 Asmussen, J. P.: 33 Aziza, C.: 194, 195, 197, 222, 223, 224 Bacher, W.: 30, 39 Baer, Y.: 183, 192, 208 Bar-Asher, M.: 90, 180 Barclay, J.: 190? 191 Barnes, . D.: 188, 189, 222 Baruch, E.: 63 Bauer, W.: 65 Baumgarten, A. I.: 35, 92, 187, 192 Baun, R.: 189 Baur, F. C.: 18 Becker, A. H.: 191 Beer, M.: 33 Belayche, N.: 166 Benoit, A.: 176 Benowitz, M.: 36 Berger, K.: 12 Berliner, A.: 32, 34, 35, 36 Berlinerblau, J.: 65 Bernard, J.: 10 Bessière, G.: 17 Betz, H. D.: 142 Bickerman, E.: 201 Bilde, P.: 182 Billerberck, P. L.: 6, 13 Blanchetière, F.: 18, 25, 108 Blidstein, G.: 198, 199 Blum, E.: 93 Bolognesi Rechi Franceschini, E.: 165 Bonsirven, J.: 23 Borg, M. J.: 4, 139, 142 Borgeaud, P.: 167 Bornkamm, G.: 3 Bousset, W.: 175 Bowersock, G.: 167 Boyarin, D.: 42, 49, 50, 51, 52, 57, 61, 65, 135, 193, 222, 224
Boyce, M.: 39 Brand, I.: 49 Brandon, S. G. F.: 107, 110, 118, 119, 121, 122, 142 Braun, R.: 188, 190, 194, 220 Brock, S.: 33, 34 Brody, R.: 33 Brown, P. R. L.: 169 Brown, R. E.: 144, 156, 174, 180 Brownlee, W.: 87 Brüll, N.: 34 Bultmann, R.: 177 Burkert, W.: 177 Burney, C. F.: 178 Burrus, V.: 61 Campbell, J.: 180 Canedi, G.: 203 Caragounis, C. C.: 180 Casel, O.: 166 Ceraux, L.: 173 Chilton, B.: 142, 145, 171 Christensen, A.: 33 Chuvin, P.: 164 Clements, R. A.: 57, 65, 158 Cleveland Coxe, A.: 81 Cohen, A.: 33, 35, 37 Cohen, B. S.: 32, 37, 38, 41, 43 Cohen, J.: 66 Cohen, S. J. D.: 64, 90, 91, 94, 193, 224, 225 Collins, A. Y.: 141, 142, 149, 151, 154 Congar, Y.: 17 Connoly, R. H.: 40 Craword, J. R.: 165 Crossan J. D.: 4, 139 Cumont, F.: 168, 170, 174, 175, 177, 185 Daecke, S. M.: 7 Daly, R. J.: 145, 146 Dan, Y.: 165 Danielou, J.: 23 Davies, P. R.: 134 Davies, W. D.: 64, 103, 116, 151 Day, L. P.: 128 Dean, J. E.: 137 De-Jong, A.: 39 Derenbourg, J.: 52 Dibelius, M.: 175
244
����� �� ������ �����
Dodd, C. H.: 177 Dölger, F. J.: 39 Donaldson, J.: 81 Drijvers, J. W.: 33 Duchesne-Guillemin, J.: 168 Dulaey, M.: 57 Dunand, F.: 164 Dunn, G.: 217, 218, 220, 223 Dunn, J. D. G.: 4, 117, 142 Durry, M.: 46 Ebeling, G.: 3 Edrei, A.: 195, 196, 197, 220 Edwards, P. C.: 128 Eliav, Y. Z.: 64 Elmslie, A. L.: 228 Ens, J. J.: 178 Epstein, J. N.: 40, 41, 52, 82 Erlich, U.: 39 Esenstein, J. D.: 212 Esler, P. F.: 156 Etienne, S.: 94 Evans, C. A.: 142, 149, 151, 171 Faivre, A.: 25 Faulkner, J. A.: 166 Fear, A. .: 167 Feeley-Harnik, G.: 145 Feldman, L.: 192 Feldmeier, R.: 95 Ferrua, A.: 175 Festugière, A. P.: 165 Fiey, J. M.: 34 Fine, S.: 192 Finkelstein, L.: 60 Flursheim, Y.: 82 Flusser, D.: 5, 8, 48, 99, 142, 172, 178, 181 Fonrobert, C.: 42 Fox, R. L.: 170 Fraade, S. D.: 57, 65 Fraenkel, J.: 48, 49, 75, 79 Fraenkel, Z.: 35 Fredouille, J.-C.: 188, 209, 222, 223 Fredriksen, P.: 220 Frend, W. H. C.: 134, 188, 189, 194, 195, 222 Frey, J.: 89 Freyburger, G.: 168 Friedheim, E.: 63, 172, 179, 183, 202, 211, 212 Friedman, S.: 35 Frye, R. N.: 33 Fuglseth, K. S.: 158
Funk, R. W.: 110, 128 Funk, S.: 29, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36 Furstenberg, Y.: 155 Furtner, J.: 168 Gani, I. A.: 32, 65 Gani: 190 Gager, J. G.: 65 Gärtner, B. E.: 98 Gasque, W. W.: 88 Gaston, L.: 107, 139, 151 Gibert, P.: 3, 4 Ginzberg, L.: 369 Ginzburg, C.: 17 Goodblatt, D.: 192 Goodman, M.: 50, 66, 225 Grant, R. M.: 111 Grappe, G.: 13 Gray, B. C.: 108, 110 Green, W. M.: 164 Greenberg, M.: 41 Greenspahn, F. E.: 93 Grégoire, H.: 175 Grints, J. M.: 33 Gripenborg, S.: 89 Gruber, M. I.: 72 Gruen, E. S.: 190 Gruen, E. S.: 188 Gruzman, M.: 71 Guarducci, M.: 175 Gunther, J. J.: 108, 117, 118 Guttmann, A.: 49 Haack, M. L.: 165 Haase, W.: 175 Hacham, N.: 90 Halevy, I.: 29, 35, 36 Halivni, D.: 35 Halliday, W. R.: 166 Hamerton-Kelly, R. G.: 140, 149, 156 Hanburry-enison, J.: 128 Hanson, J. S.: 4 Harrington, D. J.: 65, 177 Harvey, S. A.: 33, 39 Hasan-Rokem, G.: 135 Hay, D. M.: 97 Heineman, I.: 79 Heinemann, J.: 74 Henderson, I.: 202 Hengel, M.: 5, 95, 142, 152 Hennessy, J. B.: 128 Henshke, D.: 74 Herord, R. .: 31 Herr, M. D.: 108
����� �� ������ ����� Hershler, M.: 62 Hiers, R. H.: 142 Hilgert, E.: 93 Hirshman, M.: 49, 53 Hoenig, S. B.: 88 Hogeterp, A. L. A.: 158 Horbury, W.: 64, 80, 103, 224 Horsley R. A.: 4, 5, 142 Hubbard, B. J.: 174 Hutter, M.: 39 Hvalvik, R.: 50 Hyman, A.: 40, 43, 68, 77 Iricinschi, E.: 163 Irshai, O.: 110, 133 Isaac, B.: 111 Jacobson, D. M.: 101 Jaffé, D.: 19, 30, 45, 50, 55, 64, 79 Jaffee, M. S.: 42 Japhet, S.: 90 Jastrow, M.: 46 Jeanmaire, H.: 166 Jeremais, J.: 3 Jervell, J.: 114 Jones, F. S.: 113, 114, 149 Jones, S.: 192 Jonkers, E. J.: 165 Juel, D.: 139, 140, 144, 148, 149, 152, 156, 157 Kaestli, J.-D.: 177 Kalmin, R.: 31, 32, 35, 65 Käsemann, E.: 3 Kasher, K.: 41 Katso, R.: 187 Kee, H. C.: 152, 156 Kelber, W. H.: 140 Kimelman, R.: 35 Kinzig, W.: 111 Kister, M.: 59, 155 Klausner, J.: 8, 15, 16, 51, 142 Klawans, J.: 146 Klijn, A. F. J.: 136 Klinzing, G.: 98, 139 Knight, J.: 142 Koester, C.: 108, 114, 137, 220 Kokkinos, M.: 101 Koltun-Fromm, N.: 33 Krauss, S.: 31, 34 Kuhot, A.: 31 Kung, H.: 17 La Piana, G.: 220 Labourt, J.: 33
245
Lagrange, M. J.: 17 Lake, K.: 136, 221 Landau, L.: 20 Lane, E. N.: 167 Lapide, P.: 5 Lawlor, H. J.: 110 LeBohec, Y.: 194 Leclercq, H.: 163, 168 Lee-Linke S.-H.: 92 Leeming, H. and K.: 124 Le, L.: 31 Légasse, S.: 10 Lehmann, Y.: 168 Lenoir, F.: 20 Lerner, M.: 206 Levi, G.: 112 Levien, L. E.: 64 Levine, L. I.: 183, 194 Levinson, J.: 50 Levy, J.: 31 Lewin, B. W.: 34 Lewy, H.: 93 Lieberman, S.: 46, 47, 49, 52, 57, 181, 183, 207, 208, 209, 210, 230 Liennemann, E.: 157 Lieu, J.: 33, 158 Lieu, S. N. C.: 39 Litsas, F. K.: 165 Litvin, B.: 88 Liver, J.: 33 Loader, W.: 155 Lofus, F.: 101 Loisy, A.: 17, 165 Lubetski, M.: 207 Lüdemann, G.: 107, 110, 112 Luger, Y.: 80 Luz, U.: 10 Macholz, C.: 93 Mack, B. L.: 93 MacRae, G. W.: 176 Mahé, N.: 166 Maier, J.: 60 Malraux, A.: 17 Mandell, S.: 207 Manns, F.: 113, 117 Manson, W.: 156 Marchandour, A.: 177 Marcus, J.: 116, 152, 155, 156 Margalioth, M.: 77 Marguerat, D.: 7, 16, 171 Marrow, S. B.: 177 Martin, J. P.: 169 Martyn, J. L.: 114
246
����� �� ������ �����
Mason, S.: 89 Massingberd-Ford, J.: 221 Mayeur, J.-M.: 3 McConnell, J. F.: 176 McKelvey, R. .J: 139, 149 McMullen, R.: 167 McNicolt, A. W.: 128 Mealand, D. L.: 148 Meeks, W. A.: 114 Meier, J. P.: 9 Melamed, E. Z.: 71 Mendels, D.: 195, 196, 197, 220 Mendelson, A.: 35, 192 Merz, A.: 4, 7, 12, 139, 145, 146 Meshorer, Y.: 91 Meslin, M.: 176 Metzger, B.: 168 Meyers, C.: 147 Milgrom, J.: 150 Milikowsky, Ch.: 73 Mitchell, M. M.: 33 Mitchell, S.: 175 Moloney, F. J.: 140, 152 Monceaux, P.: 188 Mor, M.: 153 Motyer, S.: 150 Moule, F. D.: 139 Mouterde, R.: 175 Mullen; R. L.: 33 Munck, J.: 107 Mussies, G.: 88 Neubauer, A.: 29, 34, 35, Neusner, J.: 5, 31, 33, 54, 56, 120, 131, 203, 205, 217 Nikiprowetsky, V.: 93 Nilsson, M. P.: 175 Nock, A. D.: 165, 220 Norelli: 16 North, J.: 33 Obermeyer, J.: 29, 34, 35, 36 Oer, Y.: 90 Öllinger, J. J.: 167 Oppenheimer, A.: 32, 34, 65 Orrieux, C.: 225 Otto, W.: 164 Pasquato, O.: 165 Pastor, J.: 153 Patterson, S.: 171 Paulus, H.: 3 Pearce, S.: 192 Perrot, C.: 3
Philonenko, M.: 176 Pietri, C.: 3 Pietri, L.: 3 Pilhoer, P.: 95 Pixner, B.: 118 Poffet, J.-M.: 16, 177 Potts, . F.: 128 Praster, G.: 41 Price, J.: 119, 131 Pritz, R.: 107, 108, 112, 128 Quispel, G.: 220 Rabbinovicz, R.: 48 Rabin, Ch.: 88 Rajak, .: 33, 194 Rankin, D.: 187, 220 Reed, A. Y.: 191 Regev, E.: 142, 153, 157, 158, 159 Reimarus, H. S.: 3 Reinink, G.: 136 Rémodon, R.: 164 Renan, E.: 3, 169 Richardson, H. N.: 110, 128 Richardson, P.: 142 Rives, J. B.: 187, 188, 192, 193, 195 Robert, L.: 175 Roberts, A.: 81 Robinson, J. M.: 143 Robinson, J.: 3 Robinson, . A.: 65, 110 Rochow, I.: 165 Roe, A.: 43 Roé, A.: 93 Rokeah, D.: 81 Rosenthal, D.: 43, 198, 230 Roueché, Ch.: 165 Rubenstein, J. L.: 48 Rudolph, K.: 103 Ruether, R.: 66 Rueisen, D.: 88 Rüpke, J.: 202 Russell, E.: 177 Ruzer, S.: 10 Sachot, M.: 21, 24 Sarai, S.: 41, 110, 111, 120 Sarai, Z.: 199 Sahm, P.: 7 Saldarini, A. J.: 120, 131, 134 Sanders, E. P.: 4, 5, 8, 9, 13, 35, 108, 141, 142, 155, 192 Sanders, J. .: 54 Sartre, M.: 163
����� �� ������ ����� Schaberg, J.: 174 Schäer, P.: 53, 58 Schlatter, A.: 110 Schlosser, J.: 4 Schmidt, F.: 180 Schoeps, H. J.: 113 Schöllgen, G.: 189, 214 Schremer, A.: 42, 57, 65 Schröder, B.: 95 Schwartz, D. R.: 89, 93, 101, 102, 103, 158, 190 Schwartz, S.: 193 Schwartz, S.: 64 Schweitzer, A.: 168 Schwemer, A. M.: 95 Segal, A. F.: 79 Segal, J. B.: 33 Senior, D.: 172 Setzer, C.: 224 Sevrin, J. M.: 177 Shahak, A.: 36 Sharvit, S.: 80 Shemesh, A.: 57, 65 Sheppard, A. R.: 175 Sim, D. C.: 172 Simon, M.: 32, 35, 108, 110, 112, 117, 128, 169, 190, 192, 194, 220 Simon, R.: 17 Skarsaune, O.: 50 Smith, C. R.: 118 Smith, J. Z.: 175 Smith, M.: 90 Smith, R. H.: 128 Sokolowski, F.: 175 Sowers, S.: 108, 117, 118, 122 Spence, S.: 220 Sperber, D.: 229 Stanton, G. N.: 221 Stegemann E. W.: 4 Stegemann, W.: 4, 93 Stein, D.: 52 Steineld, A.: 200 Stendahl, K.: 87 Stern, K.: 196 Stern, M.: 88, 94 Strack, H. L.: 6, 13 Strauss, D.: 3 Strecker, G.: 65, 107, 110, 112, 114 Stroumsa, G. G.: 66, 221 Sussman, J.: 30, 31 Szarmach, P. E.: 66 abory, J.: 74 arn, W. W.: 92
247
aylor, N. H.: 115, 182 aylor, V.: 146 eler, W.: 188, 220 emporini, H.: 175 eppler, Y.: 53 Tébert, Y.: 165 Teissen, G.: 4, 7, 8, 12, 116, 139, 145, 146, 151 Teolbald, C.: 3, 4 obin, . .: 177 ov, E.: 180 ownsend, P.: 163 ran am inh, V.: 164 revor-Ropper, H.: 168 rocmé, E.: 3 rombley, F.: 33 ropper, A.: 116, 131, 134 sarir, Y.: 110, 111 ucket, C.: 143 urcan, M.: 205, 217 urcan, R.: 164, 169, 179 zippor, M.: 74 Ulansey, D.: 150 Urbarch, E. E.: 29, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 40, 78 Van Eck, E.: 142 Van Houwelingen, P. H. R.: 108 Van Unnik, W. C.: 88 Van Winden, J. C. M.: 164, 198, 199, 207, 215 Vana, L.: 200 Vauchez, A.: 3 Venard, M.: 3 Verheyden, J.: 108, 111, 112, 114 Vermès, G.: 5, 7, 8, 36 Visotzky, B.: 60 Vogel, C.: 176 Von der Osten, E.: 202 Von Harnack, A.: 111 Waetjen, H. C.: 140, 151 Walmsley, A.: 128 Waszink, J. H.: 164, 198, 199, 200, 207, 215 Watson, P.: 128 Webb, R. L.: 87 Weiss, I. H.: 34 Weiss, J.: 3 Welhausen, J.: 125 Whiston, W.: 119 Wigram, W. A.: 33 Wilhite, D.: 189, 220
248 Will, E.: 225 Williams, R.: 65 Wilson, S. G.: 80, 134 Wolson, H. A.: 96 Wright, A. G.: 149 Wright, N. .: 4, 142
����� �� ������ ����� Yankelevitch, R.: 172 Young, F. M.: 33 Youval, I. Y.: 2201 Zakovitch, Y.: 43 Zellentin, H. M.: 163 Zumstein, J.: 7, 177
