Category: New Testament World

A Short History of the Sadducees

On By Jovan PayesIn College Papers, Judaism, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Second Temple Judaism

The Sadducees are portrayed unfavorably in the canonical Gospels as one of the Jewish sects Jesus had adversarial encounters. The word Saddoukaios, translated as “Sadducee” in English, appears fourteen times in the New Testament.[1] Unfortunately, these references do not provide programmatic insight into the group’s backstory and role in the Second Temple Period. They simply appear in the New Testament as a given element of the diverse Jewish sectarian milieu of “Second Temple Judaism” (515 BCE–70 CE).[2] What is clear is the Sadducees emerged as part of a larger conversation within a “common Judaism” during this period.[3]

The goal here is to provide a short historical sketch of the Sadducees. This sketch will examine the ancient sources that provide insight into this group’s origin, and period of activity, and after this reconstruction, attempt to provide some contours of their beliefs.

Sources

Our “most reliable” knowledge regarding the Sadducees comes from secondary ancient literature. There are no extant primary sources that were produced by the sect. Of these secondary sources, the writings of Flavius Josephus prove to be the most insightful, followed by the New Testament and other Jewish writings of the period.

Primary Sources. Bluntly put, “the Sadducees left no writings,” as Günter Stemberger observes. Stemberger further notes that attempts have been made to appeal to the Apocryphal literature 1 Maccabees, Sirach, and Judith as Sadducean but these attempts “fail to convince.”[4] The important Damascus Document (CD) is thought to be Sadducean by some scholars (R. H. Charles, L. Schiffman), but the “majority” view sees it as Essene.[5] However, other Qumran literature provides only indirect insight from halakhic texts (i.e., legal interpretations of the law).[6] There are possible allusions to the Sadducean legal views in the “commentary” Pesher on Nahum (“Manassseh”), the Qumran Temple Scroll, and the halakhic letter 4QMMT.[7] In general, scholarly debate makes the likelihood these texts are primary Sadducean literature nearly impossible to confirm.

Secondary Sources. On the other hand, Josephus and the New Testament provide much clearer source material regarding the Sadducees. In both cases, these two different bodies of literature offer episodic profiles of the Sadducees. The profiles provided within these divergent sources are not straightforward, unbiased history, but are part of the promotion of their own agendas (respectively) and must be read with sensitivity to the hostile biases against the Sadducees. This is not to say they are untrue, but that we must account for the specific framing of these literary sources.

For example, the first-century CE historian, Josephus, arguably offers the most insight into the beliefs, historical personalities, and character of the Sadducees, but he is a stoic-leaning Pharisee writing Judean history of the recent period with a slant toward extolling the greatness of the Flavian family in military victory over the Judeans.[8]

Likewise, the first-century New Testament documents Matthew, Mark, and Luke-Acts also provide profiles of largely adversarial interactions between Jesus and the Sadducees. These reveal the doctrinal disagreements between the sect and Jesus primarily over the resurrection. It does not explicitly articulate areas of common ground, such as the authority of the Torah, which is implied in Jesus’ use of Exodus 3:6 to affirm non-physical life after death (Matt 22:31-33; Mark 12:24-27; Luke 20:34-40). 

" 'I am,' He said, 'the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.' " (Exodus 3:6 NJPS)

Jesus said to them, “Is this not the reason you are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God? For when they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven. And as for the dead being raised, have you not read in the book of Moses, in the passage about the bush, how God spoke to him, saying, ‘I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not God of the dead, but of the living. You are quite wrong.” (Mark 12:24–27 ESV)

John seems to refer to the Sadducean influence with implied references to figures of the temple (i.e., Levites, priests). In Acts, however, the Sadducees only appear in adversarial engagements with early Christianity in Judea (4:1; 5:17; 23:6–8). 

And as they were speaking to the people, the priests and the captain of the temple and the Sadducees came upon them, greatly annoyed because they were teaching the people and proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection from the dead. (Acts 4:1–2 ESV)

But the high priest rose up, and all who were with him (that is, the party of the Sadducees), and filled with jealousy they arrested the apostles and put them in the public prison. (Acts 5:17–18)

Now when Paul perceived that one part were Sadducees and the other Pharisees, he cried out in the council, “Brothers, I am a Pharisee, a son of Pharisees. It is with respect to the hope and the resurrection of the dead that I am on trial.” And when he had said this, a dissension arose between the Pharisees and the Sadducees, and the assembly was divided. For the Sadducees say that there is no resurrection, nor angel, nor spirit, but the Pharisees acknowledge them all. (Acts 23:6–8 ESV)

The bias of the material in Synoptics and Acts documents the tensions between Christianity and the sect.

Origins

Time period. In the most basic sense, the historical origin of the Sadducees is a mystery. From the perspective of textual extremities, the sect, much like its counterparts, is not explicitly found in the Old Testament nor in the Hasmonean literature (e.g., 1–2 Maccabees).

They appear as a fully established and functional Jewish movement of the first century CE as documented in the New Testament and Josephus. In the first century CE, Josephus seeks to pinpoint the actions of John Hyrcanus (134–104 BCE), leaving the Pharisees to join the Sadducees (Ant. 13.288–98 [13.10.4-6]). Yet, Stemberger believes the Babylonian Talmud reproduces a version of this story, but at the time of king-priest Alexander Jannaeus (103-77 BCE; b. Qiddusin 66a).[9] Textually, there is no reliable explanation regarding the “when and how” of Sadducean origin. To account for Sadducean presence in Josephus and the Talmud, their origins are likely found in pre-Hasmonean movements along ideological debates found between other emerging sects, particularly those with the Pharisees.

Reconstructions. Scholarly reconstructions suggest a few theories. J. Julius Scott, Jr., notes that one theory uses the name Sadducee to etymologically connect it to the priestly family of Zadok (2 Sam 15:24–36). On this view, Zadok is Hebrew for “just” or “righteous” (saddiq) or even “court official” or “judges” as in the Greek syndikos.[10] Etymological views like this tend to be very problematic.

A related view looks at a Zadokite descendant named Boethius, whose family was responsible for several priests, as founding the Sadducees.[11] This historical speculation is from minimal evidence and is likewise problematic.

Our earliest historical literary source, Josephus, only provides the Sadducees as being active alongside Jewish “philosophies,” the Pharisees and the Essenes (Ant. 13.171 [13.9]).[12] 

At this time there were three sects among the Jews, who had different opinions concerning human actions; the one was called the sect of the Pharisees, another the sect of the Sadducees, and the other the sect of the Essenes.

Lawrence Schiffman argued that the Sadducees were an offshoot breakaway group from the Qumran community as a result of an unwillingness to compromise over the illegitimate priesthood.[13] There is just enough information to make connections for a reconstruction, but not the sort of data that establishes a definitive model.

Period of Activity

Terminus 70 CE. It is clear from the available sources that any attempt to reconstruct the movements of the Sadducees within early Second Temple Judaism will be difficult. This is patently clear for the pre-Hasmonean period and for the early Roman Empire. One helpful limit is agreed on by all students of the Sadducees. The Judaism represented by this movement ceases to exist after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE.[14] Leading up to this terminus ad quem, the secondary sources present a picture of an aristocratic Jewish movement that was influential in politics (religious and civic), priestly, and held strong “restrictive” religious beliefs that made it uniquely stand out in its approach to public life.

Activity. Despite the limitations of the sources, then, this picture goes a long way to providing a lens into understanding their movements in the first century CE.

When Josephus (c. 93–94 CE) recounts the period of transition to Albinus following the death of the procurator Porcius Festus (d. 62 CE), he recounts that Ananus, a Sadducean high priest (Ant. 20.199 [20.9.1]; Luke 3:2), flexes his authority as a priest and executes James the brother of Jesus (c. 62 CE):

“he assembled the [S]anhedrin of judges, and brought before them the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others, [or, some of his companions]; and when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned” (Ant. 20.200 [20.9.1]).[15]

While Josephus paints the unruliness of the Jewish aristocracy–even implying falsifying charges against James, and the harshness of Sadducean jurisprudence (Ant. 20.199 [20.9.1]), the portrayal is clear that Sadducean influence benefited from its association with the priests, the Sanhedrin, and the temple guards.

In Acts 4:1–3, this strong sense of deep-seated authority is also pointed to Peter and John preaching on the temple grounds (their turf!). The combined authority of priests and guards is used to stop their preaching: 

“the priests, the captain of the temple, and the Sadducees came to them, much annoyed because they were teaching the people and proclaiming that in Jesus there is the resurrection of the dead.”[16]

It must not be presumed that all high priests were Sadducees. Still, there was at least the perception that the Sadducees and the priests were strongly connected, along with the council, and had the authority to imprison those promoting contrary views, like the resurrection (Acts 5:17ff).[17] They seem to show interest in “new” teachers and investigate “new movements” as in the case of John the Baptist (Matt 3:7) and Jesus (Matt 16:1ff).

Gerousia. The Sadducean participation with the Sanhedrin and the Gerousia (“the council [synedrion] and the whole body [gerousia] of the elders”) in this matter of handling inquiry proceedings (Acts 5:21) is consistent with the presence of a pre-Hasmonean Jewish Gerousia (“senate”). This projection back to this historical period is speculative but not without explanatory power. Josephus “reproduces” a letter from Antiochus III to Ptolemy explaining the terms of their relationship, based on how he was welcomed fully by the Jewish “senate” (gerousia; Ant. 12.138 [12.3.3]):

“Since the Jews, upon our first entrance on their country demonstrated their friendship towards us; and when we came to their city [Jerusalem], received us in a splendid manner, and came to meet us with their senate, and gave abundance of provisions to our soldiers, and to the elephants, and joined with us in ejecting the garrison of the Egyptians that were in the citadel..."

Ancient Jewish sources connect political and civic power to a tight relationship between the priests and this “senate” of Israel (Jdt 4:8; 2 Macc 11:27–33). In fact, since “the Maccabean revolt (167 BCE) the power of the high priest increased” (1 Macc 12:6).[18]

The evidence is very tenuous and circumstantial, and its greatest weakness is that there is no explicit placement of a Sadducean priest at this early period.

Beliefs

Bruce D. Chilton observed that to understand the New Testament, one must become a student of Second Temple Judaism. Conversely, it would be that the student of Second Temple Judaism is well equipped to understand the New Testament.[19] This would seem to be a proper holistic approach. As previously mentioned, the available sources for understanding the Sadducean movement within a common Judaism are secondary and written in a way that potentially stereotypes them. They are still our best sources.

Josephus summarizes the religious beliefs of the Sadducees as he differentiates them from other sectarian groups, the Pharisees and the Essenes, whom he also calls “sects of philosophies.”[20] The Sadducean Judaism, though likely a minority sect, was a unique form within “common Judaism” as it shared the same basic worldview premises about God, the temple, and the Scriptures.[21] Thus, it was not something so distinct that it did not resemble its sectarian neighbors.

The picture from Josephus regarding the Sadducean belief system that distinguished itself from the “common Judaism” may be seen in the following four areas.[22] We must guard against treating this as a monolithic portrait of Sadducean belief (cf. Ant. 13.298 [13.10.6]).

First, Josephus claims they denied the resurrection and angels, “That souls die with the bodies” (Ant. 18.16 [18.1.4]). Additionally, “They also take away the belief of the immortal duration of the soul, and the punishments and rewards in Hades” (J.W. 2.164 [2.8.14]). It does not seem fair to describe them as materialists, as if this view denies the spirit plane of existence. Nevertheless, their canon (the Torah) includes several stories that should have left them open to discussions about the soul, the afterlife, and what that may imply.

Genesis speaks of the cherubim guarding Eden (Gen 3:24), Enoch taken by God without the phrase “then he died” (Gen 5:21), the angels who visit Abraham and Lot (Gen 18–19), Jacob wrestles with an angel (Gen 32:23–33), and the angel of the Lord in the Exodus and Numbers. It is striking that Jesus cites Exodus 3:6 and affirms that God is the God of the “living” even though the bodies of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had been dead (Matt 23:31–32).

Other later texts outside their “canon” were more explicit regarding the resurrection. “Many of those that sleep in the dust of the earth will awake, some to eternal life, others to reproaches, to everlasting abhorrence. And the knowledgeable will be radiant like the bright expanse of sky, and those who lead the many to righteousness will be like the stars forever and ever” (Dan 12:2–3 NJPS). The emphasis of resurrection in the teaching of Jesus and the church would explain why the Sadducees are portrayed as adversarial in the New Testament (Matt 22:23; Luke 20:27; Acts 4:1, 23:7–9).[23]

Second, they denied fate. Josephus writes, “they take away fate, and say there is no such thing, and that the events of human affairs are not at its disposal…” (Ant. 13.173 [13.5.9]; J.W. 2.164–165 [2.8.14]). While the ancient world had a role for Fate, it would seem unlikely that Josephus would be using a pagan ideology when explaining the Jewish theologies of the Pharisees, Essenes, and the Sadducees. As Jonathan Klawans notes, this use of fate most likely refers to terms such as “determinism,” “predeterminism,” or “predestination.”[24] Basically, how is human free will compatible or not with God’s sovereign will?

The difficulty lies in the lack of Sadducean literature to explain what Josephus means. The Second Temple book, Ben Sira 15:11–20, is regarded as a possible illustration of Sadducean thought on their denial of fate:

Do not say, “It was the Lord’s doing that I fell away”; for he does not do what he hates. Do not say, “It was he who led me astray”; for he has no need of the sinful. The Lord hates all abominations; such things are not loved by those who fear him. It was he who created humankind in the beginning, and he left them in the power of their own free choice. If you choose, you can keep the commandments, and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice. He has placed before you fire and water; stretch out your hand for whichever you choose. Before each person are life and death, and whichever one chooses will be given. For great is the wisdom of the Lord; he is mighty in power and sees everything; his eyes are on those who fear him, and he knows every human action. He has not commanded anyone to be wicked, and he has not given anyone permission to sin. (Sir 15:15–20 NRSV)

In short, there is “freedom of choice” (15:14–17), a denial of destined behaviors (15:11–12, 20), and a clear affirmation of “God’s absolute opposition to evil” (15:13, 20).[25] This lines up with Josephus’s words, “they say, that to act what is good, or what is evil, is at men’s own choice, and that the one or the other belongs so to every one, that they may act as they please” (J.W. 2.165 [2.8.14]). But this is a possible lens for understanding what Josephus intended to suggest.

In the New Testament, there is no explicit debate between Jesus and the Sadducees regarding “fate” along the determinism-compatibilism dichotomy. Jesus tells his followers to be leery of the “leaven” of the Sadducees (i.e., their teaching; Matt 16:5–12), but this points to a criticism that Jesus raises against them. They do not know how to interpret what is clearly in front of them, so how can you trust their teaching (Matt 16:1–4).

Third, they denied the oral tradition held by the Pharisees. Josephus explains the Sadducean logic for rejecting the oral tradition, as such are “not written in the law of Moses” (Ant. 13.297 [13.10.6]). To be clear, the Sadducees had their own interpretive traditions and sectarian logics within Second Temple Judaism. The reason they rejected these oral traditions is that they were “esteemed those observances to be obligatory which are in the written word, but are not to observe what are derived from the tradition of our forefathers” (Ant. 13.297 [13.10.6]).

The authoritative word for the Sadducees was the Torah, yet they had their interpretive traditions and “great” internal debates (Ant. 13.297-298 [13.10.6]). Josephus then notes that this movement was popular among the rich and did not win over (peithõ) the “populace” (dēmotikós). Perhaps the picture he desires to set forth is that the Sadducees were not only restrictive and biblical minimalists, but also out of touch with the average Jew. As a former Pharisee, Josephus’s bias against the Sadducees is likely apparent.

Fourth, they limited their authoritative scripture to the Torah for Sadducees, “[do not] regard the observation of anything besides what the law enjoins them” (Ant. 18.16 [18.1.4]). It is noteworthy that when Jesus responds to the Sadducean challenge against the resurrection, he responds from within the Torah to establish belief in the resurrection (Matt 23:31–32; Exod 3:6). The reality and viability of the resurrection is the core confrontation between the Sadducees and Jesus and the early church in the Gospels and Acts. Jesus uses their restrictive canon to affirm not only the existence of a spirit-afterlife but also the resurrection of the body.

It is difficult to determine whether this view is comparable to the Sola Scriptura formulation of the Reformation. Scripture Alone (or, Only) is the final authority for faith, doctrine, and practice over reason, experience, and tradition. The principle is mainly an attitude about the authority of Scripture over other competing regulators of faith and practice.[26] It does not necessarily offer a statement about the particular shape of the canon, nor does it mean an outright rejection of interpretive traditions (i.e., majesterial authorities). The secondary sources do suggest, at face value, that the Sadducees held a high view of the Torah’s authority, sharing similar logic as Sola Scriptura; they rejected that status of final prophetic authority for the rest of the Hebrew Bible of “the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms” (Luke 24:44).

Despite the biased nature of these secondary sources, it is generally agreed that the Sadducean beliefs are reliably transmitted.

The Sadducees and Christianity

It is remarkable to consider that all of the significant features of Christian theology are rooted in the Torah: sin and redemption, the afterlife and resurrection (Exod 3:6), Abrahamic promises to bless all nations (Gen 12:1–3; 26:1–5; 28:13–15), the offspring (seed) promise and its victory over the serpent (Gen 3:15), the promise of a prophet like Moses (Deut 18:15–19), the passover lamb (Exod 12:1–28), the scapegoat theology (Lev 16:6–10, 20–22), the two great commandments (Deut 6:5; Lev 19:18), the circumcision of the heart (Deut 10:16; 30:6), the priesthood and atonement (Leviticus), the prophetic office and its proofs by signs (Deut 18:20–22), the use of wealth to help the vulnerable among the land (Lev 19:9–10), the requirements of a king, the sceptor of Judah (Gen 49:10), justification by faith before circumcision (Gen 15:1–6), and so many others. This is not to suggest the Sadducees held to all of these interpretations, only that Christian theology fits within the textual limits of their canon.

Perhaps these themes were part of the conversion of Sadducees, or those likely within Sadducean influence, like members of the Sanhedrin council and the priesthood. It was the wealthy council member (bouleutēs), Joseph from Arimathea, who used his political power and influence to petition to take custody of the body of Jesus and lay him in his own tomb before sundown in keeping the Torah’s instruction to bury the executed (Mark 15:43). 

If a man is guilty of a capital offense and is put to death, and you impale him on a stake, you must not let his corpse remain on the stake overnight, but must bury him the same day. For an impaled body is an affront to God: you shall not defile the land that the Lord your God is giving you to possess. (Deut 21:22–23 NJPS)

For he was “looking for the kingdom of God” (Mark 15:43; Matt 27:57; Luke 23:50). The early church made strong inroads among the priests, the narrator of Acts affirms, 

And the word of God continued to increase, and the number of the disciples multiplied greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith. (Acts 6:7 ESV)

It is not a foregone conclusion, then, that Sadducees were among the earliest members of the Christian faith. This should caution modern Christians from the convenient trope that the Sadducees were rigidly distinct without common ground.

Conclusion

This brief historical sketch of the Sadducees highlights four key points for a modern understanding of this ancient Jewish sect. There are no primary sources written by the Sadducees that are extant; all our information comes from secondary literature. The group emerged at some point during the Second Temple period and was active among the wealthy, the political and religious aspects of the Temple, and ceased at about 70 CE. Finally, the belief system of the Sadducees is explicitly stereotyped by Josephus and the New Testament; however, they reliably transmit core beliefs held by this movement. Early Christianity, as part of this period, anchored many of its core tenets from within the same religious literature the Sadducees regarded as their canon, that is, the Torah.

Endnotes

  1. The word appears seven times in Matthew (3:7; 16:1, 6, 11–12; 22:23, 34), once in Mark (12:18), and six times in Luke-Acts (Luke 20:27; Acts 4:1; 5:17; 23:6–8).
  2. Second Temple Judaism is the term I use for this period alternatively called Early Judaism by some. For dating, Larry R. Helyer, Exploring Jewish Literature of the Second Temple Period (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2002), 17; for the term, see John J. Collins, “Early Judaism in Modern Scholarship,” Dictionary of the Early Judaism, eds. John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 1–2.
  3. Collins, “Early Judaism,” 6.
  4. Günter Stemberger, “Sadducees,” Dictionary of the Early Judaism, eds. John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 1179.
  5. For the Essene view as the “majority view” see Helyer, Exploring Jewish Literature, 297.
  6. For this short definition of halakah, Helyer, Exploring Jewish Literature, 66.
  7. Stemberger, “Sadducees,” 1179.
  8. Josephus, Life 2.12. Steve Mason observes that one of the agendas of Josephus is propaganda for the Flavian family, “In the domestic turbulence that followed Nero’s suicide (June 68), their claim to have conquered a foreign enemy gave them unique bona fides as men capable of uniting Rome in peace,” A History of the Jewish War: A.D. 66–74 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 3.
  9. “Sadducees,” 1180.
  10. J. Julius Scott, Jewish Backgrounds of the New Testament (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1995), 206–07.
  11. Stemberger, “Sadducees,” 1180.
  12. “Josephus is the primary source in every description of the Jewish religious parties of the first century,” see Günter Stemberger, Jewish Contemporaries of Jesus: Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995), 5.
  13. Michelle Lee-Barnewall, “Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes,” The World of the New Testament, eds. Joel B. Green and Lee Martin McDonald (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2013), 221–22.
  14. Stemberger, “Sadducees,” 1180.
  15. The translation of Josephus is from William Whiston, The Works of Josephus, new ed. (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987).
  16. Unless otherwise noted, all quotations from the Bible are taken from the New Revised Standard Version (Nashville: Nelson, 1989).
  17. Scott, Jewish Backgrounds, 208.
  18. G. H. Twelftree, “Sanhedrin,” Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels, 2nd ed, eds. (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2016), 837.
  19. Bruce D. Chilton, A Galilean Rabbi and His Bible (Wilmington: Glazier, 1984), 13. The quote is the opening line to his book: “Anyone who wishes to understand the New Testament is, consciously or not, a student of early Judaism.”
  20. He calls them “sects” (Life 2.10; Ant. 13.171, 293; 20.199) and philosophies in (Ant. 18.11).
  21. Josephus, Ant. 18.17. In comparison to E. P. Sanders who emphasized a “common Judaism” for understanding of the shared but diverse religious milieu of Second Temple Judaism, C. S. Lewis pleaded his case for the Christian faith by arguing for a “mere Christianity,” that is there are things that are “agreed, or common, or central” to the Christianity that is not bound to denominational lines, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan, 1984), 8.
  22. I follow Stemberger’s discussion in “Sadducees,” 1180.
  23. Since the Torah mentions angels, scholars like Stemberger and N. T. Wright find it unlikely that Josephus is correct about the Sadducean view of angels (“Sadducees,” 1180; Contemporaries, 70). The book of Acts seems to clearly assert the same understanding of Josephus. Wright argues that this passage has been poorly translated and flattened, see The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), 132–33.
  24. Jonathan Klawans, “Josephus on Fate, Free Will, and Ancient Jewish Types of Compatibilism,” Numen 56.1 (2009): 47–48.
  25. Klawans, “Josephus on Fate, Free Will,” 51–52.
  26. See, D. A. Carson, “Sola Scriptura: Then and Now.” The Gospel Coalition.

Works Cited

Carson, D. A. “Sola Scriptura: Then and Now.” The Gospel Coalition.

Chilton, Bruce D. A Galilean Rabbi and His Bible: Jesus’ Use of the Interpreted Scripture of His Time. Good News Studies 8. Edited by Robert J. Karris. Wilmington: Glazier, 1984.

Collins, John J. “Early Judaism in Modern Scholarship.” Pages 1–23 in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism. Edited by John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010.

Helyer, Larry R. Exploring Jewish Literature of the Second Temple Period: A Guide for New Testament Students. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2002.

Klawans, Jonathan. “Josephus on Fate, Free Will, and Ancient Jewish Types of Compatibilism.” Numen 56.1 (2009): 44–90.

Lee-Barnewall, Michelle. “Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes.” Pages 217–27 in The World of the New Testament: Cultural, Social, and Historical Contexts. Edited by Joel B. Green and Lee Martin McDonald. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2013.

Lewis, C. S. Mere Christianity. New York: Macmillan, 1980.

Mason, Steve. A History of the Jewish War: A.D. 66–74. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016.

Scott, J. Julius, Jr. Jewish Backgrounds of the New Testament. 1995. Reprint, Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000.

Stemberger, Günter. Jewish Contemporaries of Jesus: Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes. Translated by Allan W. Mahkne. Minneapolis: Fortress,1995.

_____. “Sadducees.” Pages 1179–81 in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism. Edited by John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010.

Twelftree, G. H. “Sanhedrin.” Pages 836–40 in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. 2nd edition. Edited by Joel B. Green, Jeannine K. Brown, and Nicholas Perrin. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2013.

Wright, Nicholas T. The Resurrection of the Son of God. Christian Origins and the Question of God 3. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003.

Changed to Serve, Living in Hope (1 Thess 1:9–10)

On By Jovan PayesIn 1 Thessalonians, Bible Study, Book of Acts, Christian Ethics, Conversion, Discipleship, Early Christianity, Greco-Roman World, New Testament, New Testament World, Paul's Letters

Christians must always be reminded of their responsibility to live out lives reflective of the high calling of God (Eph 4:1; Phil 3:14). There is a tremendous passage in 1 Thessalonians 1:9–10, which provides the Christian with the basic aspects of Christian living. Here is the passage:

For they themselves report concerning us the kind of reception we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come. (1 Thessalonians 1:9–10 English Standard Version)

Let us examine this passage, and reflect on the four aspects of this passage: (1) reception of the word, (2) conversion, (3) consecrated service and (4) hope of deliverance.

I hope to invite modern Christians to reflect on the importance of turning to God in conversion, to living a sanctified life in anticipation of the final day when Jesus comes again.

The Background

First, let us consider some background information.

After leaving the city of Philippi, Paul and Silas traveled probably on horseback some 100 miles on the Egnatian Way through Amphipolis and Apollonia only to pause their trip in Thessalonica.[1] It is highly likely this was a three-staged trek to Thessalonica: Philippi to Amphipolis (30 mi.), Amphipolis to Apollonia (27 mi.), and Apollonia to Thessalonica (35 mi.).[2] Situated on the Egnatian Way, ancient Thessalonica was at the heart of Roman travel, communication, and culture in Macedonia. So much so, that William Barclay succinctly said, “East and West converged on Thessalonica.”[3]

The Book of Acts chronicles Paul’s initial evangelistic efforts in that great city (Acts 17:1–9), as he enters the synagogue and presents various elements of the gospel message as found in the prophetic writing of the Old Testament. In fact, in Acts 17:2, Luke says Paul spent three weeks “reasoning” with the Jews on the Sabbath, the word suggesting a rigorous discussion or possibly hints at a debate style of presentation (Grk. dialegomai).

Unfortunately, in this case, Luke does not inform us which scriptures Paul uses to build his case (cf. 1 Thess 1:10; 1 Cor 15:3–5; Isa 53:2–8; Psa 22:1, 16:10; Acts 2:31). He only affirms that the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is the embodiment of these prophetic utterings which adherents of the synagogue would have been familiar.

Luke observes the response of those that believed:

some of them were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a great many of the devout Greeks and not a few of the leading women. (Acts 17:4)

Unfortunately, a number of Jews responded to the missionaries with political manipulation and leveraging. These Jews, operating out of jealousy, enlisted the worst of society and orchestrated a riot, and attacked and arrested Jason who was hosting Paul and his company (Acts 17:5–6).

When presenting their case against Jason and the Christians, this mob describes them with politically subversive language. They are those “who have turned the world upside down” (Acts 17:6), “they are all acting against the decrees of Caesar” (Acts 17:7a), and “they are all… saying that there is another king, Jesus” (Acts 17:7b). Due to this charge, Jason is released to Paul and Silas on the conditions of payment of bail (“security”) and their departure (Acts 17:8–9). Paul later describes this as being “torn away” from them (1 Thess 2:17).

Reception of the Word

Sometime after leaving Thessalonica, Paul was restless and sent Timothy to Thessalonica for a report. Timothy returns with an encouraging report of their faithfulness (1 Thess 3:6). This faithfulness began when they believed Paul’s preaching in the synagogue (Acts 17:4). Luke notes that some Jews, and many devout Greeks (likely God-fearers) and leading women were “persuaded and joined Paul and Silas.” These are passive verbs, suggesting the work of the Spirit’s word compelled those with honest hearts to identify with the gospel proclaimers.

When Paul wrote to this young church, he recalls this moment. In fact, he frames their conversion as an example of the success of the gospel message received as God’s word:

And we also thank God constantly for this, that when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God, which is at work in you believers. (1 Thessalonians 2:13)

The “makings” of a Christian begin when the gospel is heard not as just another philosophy, or religious message. Instead, as Paul recalls, before one becomes a Christian it is imperative that the preaching is regarded as the very word of God. This is the foundation; if this is not believed spiritual failure is surely looming in the distance.

Conversion: Turned from Idols

The actual verb “turned” in 1 Thessalonians 1:9 (Grk. epistrépho) carries the idea of turning around and directing this move towards a new object or a person. In Acts, the noun is used for conversion to God (Grk. epistrephe). Together with its more common verb “to turn” they appear a total of twelve times in the Book of Acts (3:19; 9:35, 40; 11:21; 14:15; 15:3 [noun], 19, 36; 16:18; 26:18, 20; 28:27). Except for three instances (9:40, 15:36, and 16:18), the terms are exclusively used with reference to people turning to God in response to the Gospel.

Paul celebrates that as a result of accepting the word of God as authoritative and believing the gospel message, the Thessalonians turned to God after a life of serving “idols” (1 Thess 1:9). While Luke plants the conversion of the Thessalonians to those connected to the synagogue, in his letter Paul emphasizes a defection from the pagan background of the Greco-Roman converts.

This likely points to their lack of participation in the cults of their clans and tribes, temple, city, and “states” gods, which would have created a wedge between them and their neighbors. Albert Bell, Jr., notes that “the more gods a city worshiped, the better its chances of divine favor.”[4] It is known, for example, the people of Thessalonica worshipped Zeus, Asclepius, Aphrodite, and Demeter, and even the Egyptian gods Serapis and Isis. They were also given to the Samothrace cult of Cabrius.[5]

According to the Greco-Roman cultic mindset, Christians turning from the gods was not only difficult to understand but also came off as unpatriotic to the state. In their mind, it would not only have been subversive to the Spirit of Roma (Rome worshipped) and even the deified Caesar but also this behavior would have been seen as inviting divine disfavor (1 Thess 2:14). Paul celebrated their choice in doing this.

Children of God must remember their conversion was a choice. W. E. Vine insightfully comments on this conversion:

[It was] an immediate and decisive change, consequent upon a deliberate choice; a conversion is a voluntary act in response to the presentation of truth.[6] 

They chose to leave their sins behind; they did not take them along in their new life as God’s people.

Consecrated Service

Again, the Thessalonians did not bring their old life with them. Instead, they were changed “to serve the living and true God.” In fact, Paul later writes to them that “God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness” (1 Thess 4:7). Service to God is expressed in the rejection of “the passions” of the past which reflects a rejection and of God (1 Thess 4:5).

Christian service is a demonstration that the things which were important and governed the fundamentals of our pre-Christian lives no longer function in this way. Christians are not to lean upon their past; instead, they are called to “stand fast in the Lord” (1 Thess 3:8).

In other words, Christians are to live lives devoted to serving God over our own ambitions. This is the “how to” of our service to God, to accept God sanctifying his people. Notice this emphasis on a consecrated and holy life:

For you know how, like a father with his children, we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory. (1 Thessalonians 2:11–12)

Now may our God and Father himself, and our Lord Jesus, direct our way to you, and may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, as we do for you, so that he may establish your hearts blameless in holiness before our God and Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints. (1Thessalonians 3:11–13)

For you know what instructions we gave you through the Lord Jesus. For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality...  For God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness. (1 Thessalonians 4:2–3, 7)

Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Thessalonians 5:23)

As a result of being converted, Christians are washed, consecrated, and remade for righteous service (1 Cor 6:9–11; Eph 2:10). Contemporary Christians need to take this message of consecration to heart.

Hope of Deliverance

Christians live in the present with a living hope which anticipates the second coming of Jesus. Paul is very clear when he affirms that there is a future point of hope and deliverance for which Christians wait for (1 Thess 1:10).

For they themselves report concerning us the kind of reception we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come. (1 Thessalonians 1:9–10)

Christians anticipate the Son to come “from heaven.” This last line is heavily loaded with theological truth. The Son is further described as the one God “raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come.” This is a statement of hope. The hope of the advent of Jesus (i.e., the second coming) is directly linked to God’s power demonstrated in the resurrection of Jesus. That God raised Jesus from the dead makes the claim that Jesus is returning from heaven a firm expectation.

With the certainty of the second coming of the Son “out from the heavens” (literal rendering of the Greek) established in the Christian mind, it affirmed that the Son, Jesus, will come with judgment for the unbelieving world (i.e., “the wrath to come”) but deliverance for the believer. Paul calls this “the day of the Lord,” a period of judgment and final consummation of God’s plan (1 Thess 4:13–5:11; 2 Thess 1:5–12).

Final Words

The gospel found fertile soils in the heart of early Thessalonian Christians. The congregation had a culturally and religiously diverse background, but they accepted the gospel as the word of God. Their faith in the God who raised Jesus from the dead was also at work as they followed their call to holy living as they anticipate Jesus coming to judge the living and the dead, and delivering those who are his.

Sources

  1. J. Carl Laney, Concise Bible Atlas (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998), 229.
  2. Colin J. Hemer, The Book of Acts in the Setting of Hellenistic History, ed. Conrad H. Gempf (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), “The mention of Amphipolis and of Apollonia should probably be taken to imply that these were the places where the travellers [sic] spent successive nights, dividing the journey to Thessalonica into three stages of about 30, 27 and 35 miles” (115).
  3. William Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians and Thessalonians, revised edition (Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1975), 180.
  4. Albert A. Bell, Jr., Exploring the New Testament World (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998), 126.
  5. Nijay K. Gupta, 1-2 Thessalonians: A New Covenant Commentary, New Covenant Commentary Series, eds. Michael F. Bird and Craig Keener (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2016), 4. Russell Morton, “Samothrace” in Lexham Bible Dictionary, Logos electronic edition, ed. John D. Berry, et al. (Bellingham, WA: Lexham, 2016).
  6. W. E. Vine, Merrill F. Unger, and William White, Jr., Vine’s Complete Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Words (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1984), 2:647.

The Role of An Amanuensis in the Letters of Paul

On By Jovan PayesIn 2004, Biblical Criticism, College Work, Freed-Hardeman University, Greco-Roman World, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Paul's Letters, Research Papers, Social Conventions

The New Testament was not dropped out of heaven in its present form. Instead, it was produced by means of human ability and human ingenuity. No disrespect is given to the dogma of plenary inspiration of Scriptures if one examines the methodologies used to produce God’s breath into written form (2 Tim 3:16).[1] It is a matter of respect when such a course of action is taken.

The literary composition of the New Testament is unbalanced in that 78% of its 27-volume anthology is comprised of epistolary literature. In other words, the Christian canon is principally made up of letters. Among these letters stand those of the Apostle Paul, 13 in all which bear his name. Among the many controversies which surround the letters of Paul, few are underestimated as the Pauline use of an amanuensis, a profession more accurately designated “secretary.”[2]

Secretarial work is one of the most pervasive labors undergirding the production of most of the New Testament;[3] it is also at times one of the most controversial issues to sift through. This is particularly highlighted in the study of the role, more accurately the influence, of the secretary in the Pauline corpus. The principle issue controverted is “the degree of freedom that a letter writer might give to his or her scribe in the choice of wording.”[4]

Although it is true that a secretary in the Greco-Roman world was given liberties in word choices when applied to Paul the letters which bear his name are authentically Pauline according to Greco-Roman standards no matter what level of secretarial influence. This is demonstrated by three lines of evidence. First, there was a wide spectrum of secretarial freedom typical of ancient letter writers which were viewed as genuine epistolary conventions. Second, irrespective of the secretarial freedom in word choice, there were genuine methods of controlling the final product by the author. Third, Paul’s emphasis on the authenticity in his letters demonstrates a high level of security precautions as a part of letter composition.

Preliminary to considering the arguments below, observe that there must be an understanding and appreciation for how a different culture works.[5] The methods of communications may differ from the present modern world, but they were authoritative in the ancient world in which these documents were originally penned. Modern standards must be placed to the side. With this one precautionary principle, the value of the present arguments will be seen clearly. Consider the following three arguments.

Secretarial Freedom

First, each level of secretarial freedom was viewed as a genuine method of letter production.

E. Randolph Richards observes that the sender “could grant to the secretary complete, much, little, or no control over the content, style, and/or form of the letter.”[6] From his extensive evaluation of ancient letters, the role of a secretary, in general, was fourfold. The secretary may have contributed to the production of a letter as a verbatim recorder, as an editor of a preliminary letter, as a co-author with an emphasis on linguistics, or as the composer free of any set verbal content.[7] Jerome Murphy-O’Connor suggests three roles, eliminating co-authorship as a viable role of a secretary and placing that as a different type of compositional endeavor, which seems appropriate.[8]

As a verbatim recorder, the only controversial issue is whether or not there was a shorthand method able to follow dictation viva voce (i.e. at the speed of speech), for syllabim dictation (at the speed of handwriting) is basically free from controversy. Alan Millard observes that there is evidence of a shorthand ability to copy viva voce for the Latin language, but that the evidence for a Greek system is questionable due to poorly preserved manuscripts.[9]

Richards, on the other hand, persuasively argues that this Latin shorthand system derived itself probably from a comparable Greek system because discussions among Latin manuscripts employ Greek words to describe their shorthand system, thus implying a dependence on a prior Greek system. Moreover, there are early second century A.D. fragmentary manuscripts of Greek shorthand available and the evidence has a very wide geographical distribution across the Mediterranean world.[10] Murphy-O’Connor extends the link earlier than the second century A.D. to the first century B.C.[11] The point is, that a secretary could potentially follow the author at the speed of their speech in shorthand, and at the very least at the speed of writing. Dictation was not a problem.

The secretary may serve as an editor of a preliminary letter. In the production of the final copy of a letter, the secretary at times, if not always, was given the responsibility to correct or adjust the grammar and syntax of a verbalized letter or a prewritten letter that was appended by the author.[12] As Robson observes:

Where he did not compose, St. Paul would dictate: this would enable him to be conversational and oratorical at will. He could deliver some portion of a missionary sermon, or answer a series of questions, or parry and thrust with an imaginary opponent in the fashion of the diatribe, at will.[13]

E. Iliff Robson, “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books,” Journal of Theological Studies 18 (1917)

The secretary would then harmonize the quick fluctuation of argumentative paradigms Paul employs, as in the Roman letter. There is nothing ingenious about this procedure.

The secretary would likewise be given the task of composing free of any set verbal content. There were times in ancient epistolary composition when an author would request his secretary to be a substitute author.[14] In this respect, the secretary was given a considerable amount of freedom to choose the wording. Moreover, Richards observes that “a writer usually does not reveal that his letter was actually composed by a secretary.”[15] Consequently, the reader would not necessarily know it was a secretary who composed the letter. But there is adequate evidence to demonstrate that if the recipients were familiar enough with the author that they could recognize the handwriting, style, and argumentation methods and distinguish between a letter written by their friend or by their friend’s secretary.[16]

In one sense, the fact that the secretary could do this is difficult to account for in New Testament letters since there are no extant autographs. Definite factors come into play in this regard, which alleviates some of the curiosity that this point highlights in one’s mind. As Richards notes, “the letters, especially official and business letters, had a very set form, vocabulary, and style.”[17]

Consequently, certain letters already had a predetermined template to follow, similar to modern word processing computers, the only difference is that the secretary had to produce a new template each time. Moreover, this was very advantageous for the illiterate population of the Greco-Roman world.[18] Also, there is no evidence to suggest that this was extensively done within personal letters. The point which needs to be emphasized is that there were specific and genuine needs for this method. Observe the next line of reasoning for methods of controlling and authenticating the secretary’s actions.

Measures of Authorial Control

Second, there were genuine methods of controlling the activities of the secretary.

The principal controlling agent was the author who would read the final rough draft or the final draft before it was dispatched.[19] The importance of this is demonstrated by the case of Quintus, the brother of Cicero, on his first Roman appointment. Quintus employed his secretary Statius as his “chief” secretary to read the letters composed by other secretaries without Quintus’ personal attention. Cicero advises Quintus to read the letters that go out in his name because he had already suffered professionally because of his action. The implication here is irrespective of who penned the letter the author is held responsible for every word and sentiment.[20] It is very enlightening that Quintus was not discouraged from having his secretaries write documents in his name, but he was rebuked for not having read them himself before dispatching them.

A second method of demonstrating control over the content irrespective of the type of freedom given to a secretary is the subscriptions written in the author’s handwriting.[21] These subscriptions generally repeat and summarize in the author’s handwriting the main content of the letter to demonstrate that the author is fully aware of the material which is being sent in his or her name.[22] Yet, one must respect the extant evidence and note that not all letters in the Greco-Roman period had subscriptions of the exact same length.[23] Each letter must be approached on its own terms and one must not assume that all letters have this subscription.[24] Nevertheless, there were security measures available for any kind of secretarial influence and freedom.

Paul’s “Security” Precautions

Third, Paul’s emphasis on the authenticity in his letters demonstrates a high level of security precautions as a part of letter composition.

The internal evidence of the New Testament demonstrates that the Apostle Paul had a high degree of care for the churches to which he ministered. This will demonstrate what was more likely for Paul to do with regards to the type of security measures he would place in each letter. For example, in 2 Corinthians (an undisputed Pauline letter[25]) Paul demonstrates his unyielding concern for the church in Corinth to persevere to a more stable spiritual plateau by foregoing a door of evangelism providentially opened by the Lord so he could minister to them (2 Cor 2:12–13).

Again, in 1 Corinthians the Apostle Paul demonstrated his high level of concern when he sent Timothy to minister to them in his stead. He sent Timothy because he would remind them of his ways (1 Cor 4:14–17). In a sense, Timothy was a surrogate for Paul’s presence, an emphasis which is identical to the purposes of dispatching a letter,[26] allowing each party to share in each other life.[27] The point of emphasis made here is that Paul was very careful and had concerned for the well-being of the church. It is very natural to assume, then, that he would procure whatever items needed to guarantee their spiritual safety (1 Cor 8:13).

Observe an additional line of reasoning. Within the New Testament letters which bear Paul’s name, there are six letters that bear explicit marks of a collaboration with a secretary (see Fig. 1). These references demonstrate the subscription of authenticity and generally include a summary, however brief, of the content of the letter. Galatians 6:11 and Philemon 19 are somewhat problematic for they may both refer to the entire letter or the point where Paul inserts his authoritative “seal of approval” as a mark of genuineness.[28] The point that needs to be considered here is that Paul demonstrates his inclusion of security measures in his letters.

Figure 1: This illustrates the widespread use of an amanuensis in the letters of Paul. See also P.Duke.inv. 7 (AD 5/6) and P.Duke.inv. 22 (30 BC–AD 640) as papyri examples of dual handwriting styles differentiating between the secretary and the author.

Moreover, what shall be said for the letters which do not have a subscription (2 Cor, 1 Thess, Eph, Phil, and the pastorals)? In 2 Corinthians 10:1, the Apostle Paul inserts his name into what some would consider a major section of the letter. The Apostle makes an emphatic statement autos de ego Paulos parakalo humas, which literally means “and I myself (Paul) entreat you.” It is reasonable to conclude that the passage is the beginning of Paul personally writing until the end of the letter,[29] but some scholars disagree with this conclusion.[30] However, since their conclusions are just as speculative, consistency points to 2 Corinthians 10–13 as a lengthy subscription or another letter appended to a completed letter.

The Thessalonian correspondence is somewhat unique in that the second epistle has a stronger authenticating subscription (2 Thess 5:17) than that of the first letter (1 Thess 5:27–28), that is why it is treated here. However, the case is strong that both letters are collaborations between Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy (1 Thess 1:1 and 2 Thess 1:1). Paul often takes the lead in the discussion.[31] By viewing the subscription in 2 Thessalonians 5:27–28 as a final authenticating mark, 1 Thessalonian’s ”gentle” subscription receives bolstering.

The pastorals are regarded as disputed-non-Pauline works.[32] This position is based primarily upon vocabulary and style differences calculated by a computer. These differences may be harmoniously accounted for by including the use of an amanuensis.[33] However, Harry Y. Gamble has suggested that “such theories” may satisfactorily explain a divergence in vocabulary and style, but not for the “conceptual and situational differences.”[34]

Richards makes a rather compelling case demonstrating from ancient letters that because of the “use of secretaries, letters were not rejected on the basis of style analyses alone.”[35] In other words, just because the letter sounds different that is no grounds for marking it as inauthentic because a secretary may influence style. Richards also demonstrates there were special seals used to enclose a letter; consequently, had Paul not given a subscription,[36] he could have (because this was typical) closed up the letter with a seal.[37] This may account for the Philippian letter being void of a postscript. Perhaps this is why Gamble concedes that there are other things that make “Pauline letters […] even more complex than is usually assumed.”[38]

The letter to the Ephesians poses itself as a unique epistolary production in that among the writings of Paul this was probably a circular letter written for a broad multi-congregation setting.[39] Abraham Malherbe provides parallels illustrating that Ephesians served a comparatively similar purpose as the literature of contemporary philosophical schools to provide general guidance for conventional everyday needs.[40] In this light, and with its traditional connection to Colossians, and Philemon (Col 4:10–14; Philem 23–24, and Eph 6:21), it is probable they were sent together.[41] The subscriptions in Colossians 4:18 and Philemon 19 would seemingly have sufficient authenticity for the letters associated with them, assuming there were no other authenticating measures we are unaware of.

The last argument above has been the longest to formulate. What must be remembered is that the Pauline corpus employs and contains subscriptions and other authenticating items. Differences in vocabulary and style are not sufficient to dismiss any letters of Paul because, according to Greco-Romans criterion, a secretary may so influence a letter that it may sound distinct. Nevertheless, since there are security measures employed, there is an implicit understanding that Paul would be in a position to verify the letter before sending it by means of a courier. Also, he may have had confidence in the secretary’s work such as Timothy, Silas, Titus, and Tertius (Rom 16:22).

Where from Here?

The controversy will more than likely continue. The degree of influence Paul’s secretary had over the composition of the corpus may never be totally realized or understood. It must be remembered that the freedom a secretary had in word choice varied according to need, author, and document; nevertheless, the author was held accountable for every word. That may be uncomfortable for some today, but this study is not a matter of what one wants the evidence to say, it is about what was more likely–probable– to happen.

The freedom of the secretary was a genuine method of letter writing, but it was not the only kind of role they played in epistolary production. There were methods to check the work of the letter before it went forth. Finally, Paul’s character based upon the internal evidence of the New Testament letters suggests that Paul would have and did procure the security procedures of the day to secure the message.

Consequently, the letters which bear his name are authentic according to Greco-Roman standards irrespective of secretarial influence.

Endnotes

  1. Wayne Jackson, Background Bible Study, rev. ed. (Stockton, CA: Christian Courier Publications, 2000), i.
  2. E. Randolph Richards, The Secretary in the Letters of Paul (Tübingen: Mohr, 1991), 11.
  3. Richard N. Longenecker, “On the Form, Function, and Authority of the New Testament Letters,” in Scripture and Truth, ed. D. A. Carson and John D. Woodbridge (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1983), 109.
  4. D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 233–34.
  5. Stanley K. Stowers, Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity, Library of Early Christianity 8, ed. Wayne A. Meeks (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1989), 28.
  6. Richards, Secretary, 23.
  7. Ibid., 23–24.
  8. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer: His World, His Options, His Skills (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1995), 8–16, 16–34.
  9. Alan Millard, Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus (Washington Square, NY: New York University Press, 2000), 175–76.
  10. Richards, Secretary, 41.
  11. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 11.
  12. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 13–14; Richards, Secretary, 44–47.
  13. E. Iliff Robson, “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books,” JTS 18 (1917): 291.
  14. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 14.
  15. Richards, Secretary, 52.
  16. Gordon J. Bahr, “Paul and Letter Writing in the First Century,” CBQ 28 (1966): 466–67; cf. Richards, Secretary, 92–97.
  17. Richards, Secretary, 49.
  18. Ibid., 50.
  19. Ibid., 52.
  20. Ibid., 51.
  21. Longenecker, “Form, Function, and Authority,” 108.
  22. Gordon J. Bahr, “The Subscriptions in the Pauline Letters,” JBL 2 (1968): 28-30
  23. Richard N. Longenecker, “Ancient Amanuenses and the Pauline Epistles,” in New Dimensions in New Testament Study, ed. Richard N. Longenecker and Merrill C. Tenney (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974), 291.
  24. Roy Bowen Ward, “How to Study the New Testament,” in The World of the New Testament, ed. Abraham J. Malherbe. Living Word Commentary 1, ed. Everett Ferguson (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984), 171.
  25. See Charles B. Cousar, The Letters of Paul, Interpreting Biblical Texts (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), 89; Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 262.
  26. Cousar, Letters of Paul, 30.
  27. Stowers, Letter Writing, 28–29.
  28. Frederick Field, Notes on the Translation of the New Testament (1899; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994), 191; Longenecker, “Form, Function, and Authority,” 108; Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 28; Richards, Secretary, 179–80.
  29. Richards, Secretary, 125–26.
  30. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 30–31.
  31. Ibid., 19–20.
  32. Cousar, Letters of Paul, 163–64.
  33. Longenecker, “Ancient Amanuenses,” 292–94; Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 359–62.
  34. Harry Y. Gamble, “Amanuensis,” ABD 1:72.
  35. Richards, Secretary, 97 (cf. 92–97).
  36. Longenecker, though, believes Paul did (“Ancient Amanuenses,” 292).
  37. Richards, Secretary, 93.
  38. Gamble, “Amanuensis,” 72.
  39. Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 309–11.
  40. Abraham J. Malherbe, Moral Exhortation, A Greco-Roman Sourcebook, Library of Early Christianity 4, ed. Wayne A. Meeks (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986), 149–160.
  41. William Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, rev. ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1975), 168–70. Granted, critical scholars tend to discount the authorship of Paul of Philippians, Colossians and Ephesians.

Works Cited

Bahr, Gordon J. “Paul and Letter Writing in the First Century.” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 28 (1966): 465-77.

—. “The Subscriptions in the Pauline Letters.” Journal of Biblical Literature 2 (1968): 27-41.

Barclay, William. The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians. Revised ed. Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1975.

Carson, Donald A., Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris. An Introduction to the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992.

Cousar, Charles B. The Letters of Paul. IBT. Nashville: Abingdon, 1996.

Field, Frederick. Notes on the Translation of the New Testament. 1899 ed. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994.

Gamble, Harry Y. “Amanuensis.” Pages 72–73 in vol. 1 of Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Longenecker, Richard N. “Ancient Amanuenses and the Pauline Epistles.” Pages 281–97 in New Dimensions in New Testament Study. Edited by Richard N. Longenecker and Merrill C. Tenney. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974.

—. “On the Form, Function, and Authority of the New Testament Letters.” Pages 101–14 in Scripture and Truth. Edited by Donald A. Carson and John D. Woodbridge. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1983.

Malherbe, Abraham J. Moral Exhortation, A Greco-Roman Sourcebook. LEC 4. Edited by Wayne A. Meeks. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1986.

Millard, Alan. Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus. Washington Square, NY: New York University Press, 2000.

Murphy-O’Connor, Jerome. Paul the Letter-Writer: His World, His Options, His Skills. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1995.

Richards, E. Randolph. The Secretary in the Letters of Paul. Tübingen: Mohr, 1991.

Robson, E. Iliff. “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books.” Journal of Theological Studies 18 (1917):288-301.

Stowers, Stanley K. Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity. LEC 8. Edited by Wayne A. Meeks. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1989.

Ward, Roy Bowen. “How to Study the New Testament.” The World of the New Testament. Edited by Abraham J. Malherbe. The Living Word Commentary: New Testament 1. Edited by Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984.

A Brief Look at Patronage as Background for the New Testament

On By Jovan PayesIn 2017, Freed-Hardeman University, Graduate Work, Greco-Roman World, Interpretation, Luke, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Paul's Letters, Research Papers, Roman Empire, Romans, Social Conventions, Technical Studies, Women Studies
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The present study is an inquiry into the interconnected reciprocal nature of patronage in the Greco-Roman imperial social setting, as one background component from the New Testament world. One would be wrong to think that such a social dynamic’s presence was minimal. In actuality, patronage and its vocabulary not only appears specifically in the New Testament (Luke 22:25; Acts 10:38; Rom 16:2; Philm 17-20, Phil 4:14-20, etc), but the social reciprocal dynamics in which its value and cultural powers are also assumed (shame, honor, unity, gratitude, fellowship, etc.). The reader who knows what to look for will see it in numerous contexts shaping the life of the body.[1] Unfortunately, the many elements vital to the matrix of patronage can only be pointed to. Yet, as Bruce J. Malina observes, it was “the most significant form of social interaction in the limited-good world of the first century is an informal principle of reciprocity, a sort of implicit, non-legal contractual obligation, unenforceable by any authority apart from one’s sense of honor and shame.”[2] The challenge in this paper is to briefly and accurately describe it.

In seeking to understand the New Testament accurately, scholars propose various exegetical principles and contextualizing models to accomplish this task.[3] The process here requires an approach which appreciates the cultural background of the New Testament to contextualize its vocabulary. This, Albert A. Bell reminds, is the “crucial part of understanding any written text.”[4] Greco-Roman words have a socially conditioned context that the modern reader may not readily identify. “Without a comprehension of the sociological dynamics of that world, our understanding… is terribly superficial at best and woefully mistaken at worst.”[5] The most crucial need for the reader of the New Testament, then, is to be able to bridge the cultural and time gap between the original (native) context and the reader’s contemporary context. This linguistic and cultural divide can be managed. In advancing a cultural-anthropological reading model, Jerome H. Neyrey argues that one can avoid ethnocentric and anachronistic readings of Paul (and the New Testament) by appreciating the difference between reading him as member of the same culture (an emic reading), and by reading him informed by the analytical and descriptive works of specialists and ethnographers (an etic reading).[6] As one gets closer to this “emic reading,” the modern reader comes closer to better appreciate the symbolic universe of Paul’s and Jesus’ culture.[7] The goal here is to gain a realistic perception from “native informants” which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as a Greco-Roman phenomenon.[8]

The presentation to follow will demonstrate how significant the social form of patronage was in the daily life of the Greco-Roman world, it will outline the vocabulary of patronage in Latin and Greek primary sources, it will sharpen this outline to differentiate between political and social patronage, and then offer a realistic scenarios that can illuminate reading the New Testament in its social and cultural world.

Daily Significance of Patronage

In modern analogy, patronage was like an ancient informal “welfare system.” Social services, like the modern model of the United States, would have been quite foreign. Instead, patronage was a cultural phenomenon in which there was a reciprocal relationship between the upper class and the lower class. It benefited lower classes with protection and patronage by means of reasonable support (legal, financial, medical, marital, etc.) for public support, the running of errands, odd jobs, escorting through streets, and providing social honor in exchange (a return). In exchange for the daily allowance (sportula), the client was at the patron’s call. Thus, it was a form of social investment between patron-client; interestingly, even slaves of wealthy households were known to have clients who hoped the slave could use their influence upon their master.[9] Greco-Roman and Christian scholarship is unequivocal about the daily and social significance of the patron-client network of relationships.[10]

Martial, in his colorful Epigrams, clocks what city life was like in the urbs (4.8.1-4): “The first and second hours wear out clients greeting their patrons.” The imagery evokes the crushing nature of the daily dependence of clients upon their patronus. A step further, Juvenal shows how important this allowance of money was for the everyday professional and collegia with his sarcastic words in the Satires (1.95-126):

For no deity is held in such reverence amongst us as Wealth; though as yet, O baneful money, thou hast no temple of thine own; not yet have we reared altars to Money in like manner as we worship Peace and Honour, Victory and Virtue, or that Concord that clatters when we salute her nest.[11]

This fits the common view that the patron-client phenomena were important to the daily life of every social stratum of the Greco-Roman world. To this point, Jérôme Carcopinodescribes that whether employed or unemployed, freedman or the parasite do-nothing, aristocrats or lower plebeians, clients “were no sooner out of bed than they were in the grip of the duties inseparable from being a ‘client.’ […] there was no man in Rome who did not feel himself bound to someone more powerful above him by the same obligations of respect, or, to use the technical term, the same obsequium.”[12] This honor-bound relationship allowed those in various professions and collegia to survive by means of this small daily “dole as their main source of revenue.”

Patronage in Latin and Greek Sources

Extant Greek and Latin sources (literary and epigraphic) speak of patronage, benefaction, and euergetism (good-doing) from political and social perspectives. Ideas such protection, assistance, help, advocacy, and philanthropy appear. Consider the following samples. It seems that patronage was initially borne out of political power and civic duty, but that distinction apparently broke down over time into a social network between the upper and lower classes in the Greco-Roman world among the rich, the poor, the freedman and freedwoman.[13]

The Roman historian Livy stretches back about four centuries to the early Roman Republic and recounts the story of Cincinnatus, the famed aristocratic plebeian consul, turn poor plebeian farmer, turn dictator, turn savior of Roman (History of Rome 3.26-29). According to Livy, his actions as dictator were reciprocated with honor and status. Livy frames (stylizes?) the response of the army as recognizing “the benefit [beneficii] they had received at his hands,” honored him with a golden crown, and “saluted him as their protector [patronum salutaverit]” (History of Rome 3.29.3). They had become his “clients,” and Cincinnatus would use this social bond to his advantage to “clear” the charges against his son Caeso who was on the run for charges of murder. The protector of Rome, then, returned his powers of dictator and returned to the rustic farm life. Later, when Augustus consolidates his power, Tacitus recounts his use of “gratuities” (donis) among the military and the poor (Annals 1.2). Michael Grant[14] interprets this as Augustus letting “it be understood that the old institution of patrons and clients had been recast, so that henceforward all the people were his own, personal clients, including the poorest citizens.” Thus, as principis Augustus and the emperors after him would portray (politically?) to the citizens of Rome and its subjects a bond of reciprocal loyalty.

Greek sources also illuminate various aspects of patronage. In the fifth century BCE, Sophocles frames the tragic Oedipus as gratefully exchanging protection from Thebes and “help [prostátisi] of the dread goddesses” who reigns in their districts, with obtaining “a great savior [sōtēr’] for this city, and troubles for my enemies” in him (Oedipus at Colunus 455-460). The Apocrypha[15] likewise points to the political upheavals in the Maccabean storyline connected to concepts of patronage. In 2 Maccabees, Simon slanders Onias, who is designated “a plotter against the government the man who was the benefactor [tòn euergétēn] of the city, the protector [tòn kēdemóna] of his compatriots, and a zealot for the laws” (4:2).[16]

In 3 Maccabees 3:13-29, “King Ptolemy Philopater” declares to his “generals and soldiers” that despite his goodwill (philanthrōpía), a desire to do good (eū poiēsaí), and to honor (timēsai) in the Jewish temple (3:15-17), the Jews “manifest ill-will toward us” and are “the only people among all nations who hold their heads high in defiance of kings and their own benefactors [euergétais], and are unwilling to regard any action as sincere” (3:19). The accommodative and benevolent king (philanthrópōs 3:20) declares that such rebellious Jews should be arrested, bound, and deported and that any who harbor them should be severely punished (3:25-29). Eventually, Philopator descends upon the Jews but is subdued by two angels. The king breaks down to pity and tears, and blames and threatens his “friends” (toís phílois):  “You are committing treason and surpassing tyrants in cruelty; and even me, your benefactor [euergétēn]” (6:24).

Political and Social Patronage in Rome

In the Greco-Roman world of the first century CE, there appears to be evidence distinguishing between political and social patronage. This can be confusing since sources often use terms like benefactor, euergetes, and patron in the process of discussion. The masculine form of the Greek prostát– (see verbal use above for “help”) is somewhat problematic. It is often considered synonymous with the Latin patronus. Interestingly, the New Testament the feminine form προστάτις is used in Romans 16:2 and translated as patron and benefactor (ESV; NIV, NRSV, HCSB). Erlend D. MacGillivray[17] takes exception to the view that these two forms are completely synonymous. The masculine appears in both Attic Greek and in the Roman Empire and carries both legal and a variety of leadership benefaction roles, but not the feminine form. MacGillivray argues that applying the masculine meaning upon prostátis is exegetically problematic for this reason. Benefaction is in view, but one must distinguish between political patronage from some interpersonal social networking.

MacGillivray argues that understanding prostátis depends, then, upon understanding the fluid nature of ancient Mediterranean reciprocal dynamics, recognizing the patron-client model is far too limiting and misleading. There is a difference between the narrow and nuanced meaning of classical patronage and the broad euergetistic/altruistic benefaction. While epigraphical gratitude evidence shows that prostátis and prostátes imply civic prestige, the nature of the evidence is, however, often weak to force synonymity. Part of the problem stems from the near normative templates in honorary Greco-Roman epigraphs that do not always neatly distinguish between the various kinds of patronage. Thus, the presence of these terms do not prove exclusively a classical patronage/patronus; consequently, MacGillivray’s work argues that prostátis and prostátes are not demonstrably synonymous.

R. A. Kearsley[18] extends this trajectory and explores several first century CE gratitude (honorarium) inscriptions shedding light on the first-century distinction between political and social patronage. These aristocratic women are named, Iunia Theodora and Claudia Metrodora, and are celebrated as female benefactors/patrons who operated in mid-first century CE Asia Minor. The cities of Lycia (Myra, Patara, Tel-messos) recount the influence of Theodora. Theodora apparently had multiple-citizenships, she freely shared her wealth, applied influenced for political and commercial purposes, and is described consistently in benefactor terms (sōphronōs, philolúkios) in Lycia. Such amounts to Theodora functioning as a social benefactor. On the other hand, Metrodora of Chiot Island likewise held multiple-citizenships, did hold political office as magistrate (stephanephoros), which required benefaction toward the people although she surpassed such requirements. She functioned in banquets, directed imperial games, gymnasiarch, public bathhouse donation, basileia in Ionia, and was praised for her public virtue. She was a benefactor as part of holding office.

Realistic Patronage Scenarios for Reading the New Testament

The above illustrations provide insight into the deep and ancient tradition of patronage and how such played out in various settings. There are two passages where patronage vocabulary is explicitly found in the New Testament.

First, in Luke, the political aspect of patronage is evident in Jesus’ counter-intuitive teaching on greatness. Jesus corrects the “greatness debate” among the disciples by saying,

“The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors [euergétai]. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves” (22:25-26).

Frederick W. Danker observes, euergétai “served as a title for rulers in Syria and Egypt… In many cases the title would conceal tyranny under extravagant expenditure” (cf. Greek Esther 16:2-3, 13-14).[19] One might argue that Jesus is taking for granted a political euergétai known to abuse such roles, and parts from the fundamental principle of the patron-client relationship: “a service performed or a favor done shall not be transformed into status and honor.”[20] Jesus’ leadership principle, then, is that one serves detached from the demands of reciprocity and the honor and status it brings (cf. Acts 10:38).[21]

Second, in Romans 16:1-2 patronage appears to have a social component. Paul commends Phoebe to the church as “a servant of the church at Cenchreae” and as one who should be helped —reciprocally— “for she has been a patron [prostátis] of many and of myself as well.” Caroline F. Whelan[22] relates this passage to the context of Roman reciprocal social conventions within associations (collegia). Whelan maintains that women not only had the Roman legal standing to operate their wealth independently of guardians, they also functioned as civic patrons for collegia. Secondly, comparable “recommendation” letters reveal two types of reciprocal relationships. There is the superior-inferior recommendation rhetoric, and two, the social-equals recommendation rhetoric; each reflecting in some sense the inherent nature of reciprocity in Rome’s social structure, the matrix of which fuses together the economic and social. Romans 16:1-2, then, points to one of these realistic scenarios. Whelan argues that the patronage between social equals (amica, friends) is probably in view. Phoebe needs Paul’s influence among those addressed in Romans 16 (thus the recommendation), but as “equals” such rhetoric is not for his own social benefit. Instead, it is a gesture of gratitude for her own social activity as a social patron (euergetistic) to the collegia of the church in Cenchrea.

Conclusion

Robert Wilken asserts: “We have a distorted view of the history of early Christianity… The historian of Christianity has given the impression that the rest of the canvas is simply background for the closeup —relegating the general history of the times to an introductory chapter of vague generalities.”[23] Hopefully, this paper provides a closer, native (emic) reading. The smaller the cultural and linguistic gap is, the more accurate the reading. May this paper accomplish its task, to gain realistic perceptions from primary sources which can illustrate and contextualize patronage as an important Greco-Roman imperial phenomenon.

Endnotes

  1. David A. deSilva, “Honor and Shame,” “Patronage,” DNTB 518-22, 766-71; Donald Walker, “Benefactor,” DNTB 157-59; Halvor Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts,” in The Social World of Luke-Acts, ed. J. H. Neyrey (1991; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 1993), 241-68; Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 66-69.
  2. Bruce J. Malina, The New Testament World (Louisville: John Knox, 1981), 80.
  3. Ralph P. Martin, “Approaches to New Testament Exegesis,” in New Testament Interpretation, ed. I. Howard Marshall (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977), 220-51.
  4. Albert A. Bell, Jr., Exploring the New Testament World (Nashville: Nelson, 1998), 2.
  5. M. Robert Mulholland, Jr., “Sociological Criticism,” in Interpreting the New Testament, eds. David A. Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville: B&H, 2001), 171.
  6. Jerome H. Neyrey, Paul, In Other Words (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1990), 13.
  7. Neyrey, Paul, 14-17. Neyrey’s distinctions and concerns have value, but he makes a hardline dichotomy between Paul as one who receives supra-cultural insight (i.e., from God) and Paul as a fully incarnated product of his times (18). This distinction ignores Paul’s stated role from God. This is one of Mulholland’s four critiques of this model, it tends to be human-centered, often grounded in dynamic models foreign to the Roman world, imposes the model on the evidence, and lends itself to sociological reductionism (“Sociological Criticism,” 178-80).
  8. David A. deSilva, The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation (Collegeville: Liturgical, 1999). The “native informants” are “our best instructors” (xi).
  9. Bell, Exploring the New Testament World, 191-92.
  10. Ferguson, Backgrounds, 67; Florence DuPont, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, trans. C. Woodall (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993); Micahel Grant, A Social History of Greece and Rome (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1992).
  11. Juvenal, Satire 1.95-126, http://sourcebooks.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/juv-sat1eng.asp.
  12. Jérôme Carcopino, Daily Life in Ancient Rome, ed. Henry T. Rowell, trans. E. O. Lorimer (1940; repr., New Haven: Yale University, 1968), 171.
  13. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 30, 54, 70-76, 114-119.
  14. Grant, Social History of Greece and Rome, 75-76.
  15. See also the verbal, and substantival, usages in Wisdom 3:5, 11:5, 13, 16:2, 19:13-14; 2 Macc 8:6; 4 Macc 8:6; Greek Esther 16:2-3 = 8:12c (tōn euergetoúntōn), 13 = 8:12n (euergétēn). Of these sources, Mordecai is framed as sōtēra and euergétēn (cf. God in LXX Psa 12:6, 56:3, 114:7).
  16. Quotations for the Old Testament Apocrypha are taken from New Revised Standard Version of the Holy Bible (Nashville: Nelson, 1989). The Greek text is from Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1996).
  17. Erlend D. MacGillivray, “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts,” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.
  18. R. A. Kearsley, “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul,” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.
  19. Frederick W. Danker, Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke (St. Louis: Clayton Publishing, 1979), 222.
  20. Moxnes, “Patron-Client Relations,” 261.
  21. Halvor Moxnes, The Economy of the Kingdom (1988; repr., Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2004), 158.
  22. Caroline F. Whelan, “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church,” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.
  23. Robert L. Wilken, The Christians as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven: Yale University, 1984), xiv.

Bibliography

Bell, Albert A., Jr. Exploring the New Testament World: An Illustrated Guide to the World of Jesus and the First Christians. Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998.

Carcopino, Jérôme. Daily Life in Ancient Rome: The People and the City at the Height of the Empire. Edited by Henry T. Rowell. Translated by E. O. Lorimer. 1940. Repr., New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1968.

Danker, Frederick W. Jesus and the New Age According to St. Luke: A Commentary on the Third Gospel. 1972. Repr., St. Louis, MO: Clayton Publishing, 1979.

deSilva, David A. “Honor and Shame.” DNTB. 518-22.

deSilva, David A. The Hope of Glory: Honor Discourse and New Testament Interpretation. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999.

deSilva, David A. “Patronage” DNTB. 766-71.

DuPont, Florence. Daily Life in Ancient Rome. Translated by Christopher Woodall. Oxford: Blackwell, 1993.

Ferguson, Everett. Backgrounds of Early Christianity. 3rd edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003.

Grant, Michael. A Social History of Greece and Rome. New York, NY: Scribner’s Sons, 1992.

Kearsley, R. A. “Women in Public Life in the Roman East: Iunia Theodora, Claudia Metrodora and Phoebe, Benefactress of Paul.” TynB 50.2 (1999): 189-211.

MacGillivray, Erlend D. “Romans 16:2, prostátis/prostátes, and the Application of Reciprocal Relationships to New Testament Texts.” NovT 53 (2011): 183-99.

Malina, Bruce J. The New Testament World: Insight from Cultural Anthropology. Atlanta, GA: Knox, 1981.

Moxnes, Halvor. The Economy of the Kingdom: Social Conflict and Economic Relations in Luke’s Gospel. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1988. Repr., Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2004.

——-. “Patron-Client Relations and the New Community in Luke-Acts.” Pages 241-68 in The Social World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation. Edited by Jerome H. Neyrey. 1991. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1993.

Mulholland, M. Robert, Jr. “Sociological Criticism.” Pages 170-86 in Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

Neyrey, Jerome H. Paul, In Other Words: A Cultural Reading of His Letters. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1990.

Walker, Donald D. “Benefactor.” DNTB. 157-59.

Whelan, Caroline F. “Amica Pauli: The Role of Phoebe in the Early Church.” JSNT 49 (1993): 67-85.

Wilken, Robert L. The Christians as the Romans Saw Them. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 1984.

Book Review: Exploring the New Testament World

On By Jovan PayesIn Articles, Book Reviews, Books, Early Christianity, Greco-Roman World, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Roman Empire, Thomas Nelson
bell-the-new-testament-world-book-cover

Albert A. Bell, Jr., Exploring the New Testament World: An Illustrated Guide to the World of Jesus and the First Christians (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998), paperback, 336 pages.

As a New Testament student, I have a deep interest in the social, cultural, political, and religious world from which my faith and these documents, in particular, have emerged. I always like books that help me better understand this world.

This review is focused on a popular volume from Dr. Albert A. Bell, Jr., who is current faculty and professor of history at Hope College in Holland, Michigan, which he joined in 1978. Bell is an eclectic author who has been published in academic circles (Jewish Quarterly, The Classical World, The Classical Journal), as well as being an accomplished mystery novelist, and fiction and non-fiction author.

One of Bell’s passions is the New Testament and its world, and in 1998, he published an expanded and revised edition of his Guide to the New Testament World (Herald Press, 1994) with Thomas Nelson Publishing under the title, Exploring the New Testament World (abbreviated here as ENTW). It is a fairly well-known volume, and over the course of nearly 20 years, is has served as a required textbook in various colleges and university settings.

I initially purchased this volume while an undergrad. I did so because I recognized the name on the “Foreward” by-line as the venerable Bruce M. Metzger. With his endorsement that Bell’s book was the new standard,[1] I ante-ed up and added this volume to my personal library. Since then, I have read chapters and sections here and there, using them in college papers, sermons, or for insight. But recently, I read the book cover to cover, as part of my graduate coursework covering the New Testament World.

The following is a brief survey of the book and some thoughts about its strengths and weaknesses. Here we go.

Survey of Exploring the New Testament World

Bell organizes ENTW to cover nine chapters. There are ten total chapters, plus two appendices (a glossary of ancient writers, genealogies of the Julio-Claudian Caesars, and the Herods), but in terms of NT world material, there are only nine sections. In the first chapter, Bell provides a straightforward argument explaining the importance of placing the NT writings and narratives within the context of the Greco-Roman world, and the importance of the ancient sources that inform students of this first-century world in order to provide an accurate picture of the ancient realities early Christians faced.

Chapter Two develops several important contours of first-century Judaism. It surveys the issues of Hellenism and its tensions within the Jewish community, the importance of oral traditions, the various sects of the Jews (Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, etc.), and some of the tensions between the Jesus movement and early Judaism.

Chapters three to nine cover the Greco-Roman world and its social, political, religious, and philosophical contours, and their impact and interaction with early Christianity. The chapters provide context and provide significant high points in each of these areas. The Roman political structure is introduced, along with the emergence of the Caesars, and how a little city-state managed an empire that includes Judea. The benefits and penalties of Roman law it was applied to citizens and non-citizens, to the aristocracy and the lower class, along with the government’s concern for subversion. A concern, the Christians easily could arouse.

The interests and concerns for religions and philosophies in the Greco-Roman world are much different than modern concerns, as one could be religiously pluralistic, but such flexibility was not held among the philosophies. Religion was not about relationships nor morality, per se, but about personal success and the appeasement of the gods. Philosophy was about framing the proper worldview for justice, truth, and reality, and building a lifestyle consistent with that philosophy (Epicureanism, Stoicism, the Cynics, etc.).

In the Greco-Roman world, status was everything, and even then, the social world was immanently connected (patronage, slavery, free classes). The NT language of dichotomy –slave or free, male or female, Jew or Greek, etc.– comes alive, when one appreciates the first-century world’s penchant for status. Moreover, the Roman concern for “property” is equally of value as it plays out in the social and family life of the Romans (pater familias). Finally, the volume closes with attention to the “approximate” view of time versus the modern obsession with millisecond accuracy view of time, the way distances were measured, and the various means and methods of traveling — and yes, they did sight-seeing and had vacations, and the “they” are typically the rich.

I could not agree more with Dr. David A. deSilva’s Logos.com review on ENTW, “this is a great point of entry into the NT world. It covers a great deal of ground in a short compass.” deSilva is no slouch when it comes to studying the NT world.

Strengths and Weaknesses

First, the strengths. Bell offers a volume that is not intended for the scholar, but for a “lay readership.” In fact, he clearly says, “I don’t assume anything on the part of the reader except an interest in the New Testament and an openness to exploration.”[2] So it strikes me odd that Andreas J. Köstenberger “roughs up” Bell regarding the concern for the “general reader” as being an example of “a lack of focus.”[3] That’s why I bought the book in the first place. Mission accomplished.

This is where Bell’s a folksy, novelist, writing style serves as a major asset and strength. Bell is fun to read. He provides common sense illustrations. He is not encumbered with “scholar speak.” The material covered in ENTW can be dry and dull, but Bell’s popular writing style really makes the materials appealing and memorable. Is that not the mark of a good teacher?

Clearly, “the most outstanding feature,” as Köstenberger states,[4] is the robust bibliographies at the end of each chapter which allow the emerging NT world student ample “next step” resources and direction for further study. Even though now 20 years old, the bibliographies are still helpful because many of the articles cited are still primary resources that must be consulted today anyways. I had thought about placing the “dated” bibliographies only in the weaknesses column, but they are still valuable.

Second, the weaknesses. I still have to list that while bibliographies in ENTW are excellent, there have been 20 years of research since 1998. This research may push an understanding of a Greco-Roman or Jewish phenomenon in different, more accurate directions. So, in light of newer contributions to understanding the New Testament World, Bell’s work is dated by comparison.[5] An updated revision would certainly be welcomed.

Bell’s knowledge of the Greco-Roman world is certainly evident but it comes at a cost. Bell is disproportionate in his treatment of the Greco-Roman world compared to his treatment of the Jewish world, demonstrated by seven chapters to one chapter on the Jewish milieu.[6] ENTW would certainly be a much larger and different book if Bell provided equal space.

Finally, there is a limitation built into ENTW. The volume is an introductory volume for a readership at the very beginning of the New Testament and background study. For this reason, many of his discussions need refinement.[7] Other topics Bell brings up are irrelevant or vaguely touch on New Testament background research, such as his inclusion of the Shroud of Turin.[8] It would seem this speaks to his intended audience, but this does suggest the limits of the volume.

Recommendations

I loved reading ENTW, but by the above tally, there are several strengths and weaknesses to consider. While I have profited from the book, I would agree that it should not bear the sole burden of the main textbook without supplements. As E. P. Sanders says, “Ancient history is difficult. It requires above all common sense and a good feel for sources.”[9] Still, Bell’s achievement is a resource that is easy to read, well researched, and it serves its purpose well to be a “point of entry” (daSilva). For being nearly twenty years old, the book has stood out well. It has accomplished its task.

In this vein, then, I would recommend ENTW to the average churchgoer and those new to reading the New Testament illuminated by understanding the world its documents emerged from. It would certainly provide illustrative help for teachers and preachers of the New Testament documents. And perhaps, in this segment of New Testament students, Bell’s work will still have much life and longevity.

If, however, we are thinking in terms of college reading then, if there is no revision in sight to update the discussions or to reassess its attention to the Jewish world, then either make ENTW supplemental reading, not the core (because it reads so easily) or replace it with a more complete and scholarly work like Everett Ferguson’s Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003). Or, a blend of the two.

References

  1. Metzger’s “Foreword” begins like this, “Previous generations of students were instructed and entranced by T. R. Glover’s classic book, The World of the New Testament […] That book, now longer in print, will no be replaced for other generations of readers by the present volume written by Dr. Albert A. Bell, Jr.” (ix). That is a pretty intense opening line, and I experienced it like the opening word-crawl from Star Wars.
  2. Bell, Exploring, xii.
  3. Andreas J. Köstenberger, “Exploring the New Testament World. Albert A. Bell, Jr. Nashville; Nelson, 1998, xiv + 322 pp., $14.99,” JETS 42.4 (Dec 1999): 754.
  4. Köstenberger, “Exploring,” 754.
  5. Newer resources like Joel B. Green and Lee Martin McDonald, eds., The World of the New Testament: Social, Cultural, and Historical Contexts (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2013) would certainly have “fresher” insights.
  6. Köstenberger, “This may reflect more the author’s area of expertise than a conscious presupposition concerning the preeminence of a Greco-Roman over against a Jewish background for the NT. Nevertheless, it would have been helpful to acknowledge this focus at some point in the volume as well as in the title of the book” (754).
  7. Köstenberger points out a footnote comment, regarding the largely controverted discussion regarding the authorship of Paul’s letters to Timothy and Titus (754). Bell seems to keep open the option for pseudonymity (Exploring, 150, n. 7), without qualification.
  8. Bell, Exploring, 13.
  9. E. P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus (London: Penguin Books, 1995), 55.

Who is Claudius Lysias?

On By Jovan PayesIn Ancient History, Bible Study, Biography, Book of Acts, Early Christianity, Greco-Roman World, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Roman EmpireLeave a comment
Reconstruction of Fort Antonia by Ehud Netzer in Biblical Archaeology Review 35.1 (Jan.-Feb. 2009).

Claudius Lysias, the Tribune

Claudius Lysias is called “the tribune” (χιλίαρχος, chilíarchos) 16 times within Acts 21-24 (21:31-33, 37; 22:24, 26-29; 23:10, 15, 17, 19, 22; 24:22); 17 times if Claudius Lysias is also included in among the “military tribunes” in the “audience hall” when Herod Agrippa II and Bernice come to hear Paul (Acts 25:23). However, such speculation is uncertain, especially considering a minimum of two years from when Claudius Lysias sent Paul to the Procurator Marcus Antonius Felix in c. AD 57/58 Acts 23:26-35, to within the first few months of the new Procurator Porcius Festus who rules from AD 60-62 (Acts 24:27-25:1-22).

The Greek term chilíarchos is said to be used to translate the Roman tribunus militum (following Polybius), and also for the phrase tribuni militares consulari potestate (Plutarch). The responsibilities of a chilíarchos were as a “commander of a thousand men”.[1] Essentially, Claudius Lysias is “a high ranking military officer in charge” of anywhere from 600 to 1,000 men,[2] and this appears to be the case for it is said that his command was over a “cohort” (σπειρα, speira) in Jerusalem which is “the tenth part of a Roman legion having about 600 men” (Acts 21:31).[3]

Tribune of a Jerusalem Cohort

Claudius Lysias’s complete description as found in the New Testament book of the Acts of the Apostles is “the tribune of the cohort” in Jerusalem, which resided in nearby “barracks” (Acts 21:34, 37; 22:24, 23:10, 16, 32). It takes six cohorts to make up a legion, and each legion had six tribunes with a thousand men (“soldiers and centurions” Acts 21:32) under his command if the cohort was full; consequently, Claudius Lysias was a part of a larger military force.

The exact numbers in his cohort may never be known, however, he had sufficient men to spare two centurions, two hundred soldiers, seventy horsemen, and two hundred spearmen to accompany Paul to Caesarea Acts 23:23-24. Furthermore, when the security detail arrives before Antipatris (Acts 23:31), Claudius Lysias allows for the seventy horsemen to go on with him and Paul to Caesarea, the headquarters of the Procurator Felix (Acts 23:32-35).

The “barracks” referenced in the book of Acts (21:34, 37; 22:24; 23:10, 16, 32), in connection to Claudius Lysias and his cohort are references to the Tower of Antonia, which Herod the Great rebuilt from a previous structure and named it after Marc Antony.[4] The Antonia was added on to the northwest side of the Temple facilities, “from which stairs descend into the outer court of the temple” (Acts 21:32, 35, 22:30).[5] For this reason, the Roman Tribune could hear the commotion caused by the confusing riot over Paul’s presence in the Temple and respond with speed (Acts 21:27-32).

Claudius Lysias in the New Testament

The military tribune Claudius Lysias enters the New Testament narrative when he protects Paul of Tarsus from a hostile Jewish mob on the outside of the Temple grounds in Jerusalem (Acts 21:30-32). The Acts text does not explicitly state why the tribune arrests Paul aside from asking “who he was and what he had done” (Acts 21:33); consequently, it appears Paul is detained for investigation as reflected later in Paul’s interrogation in the Antonian barracks because he was a cause of instigation among the Jews (Acts 22:23-24).

Claudius Lysias is aware of Jewish anarchistic movements, for when Paul speaking in Greek asks permission to speak to the shouting Jewish mob, the tribune appears shocked that he speaks Greek (Acts 21:37). Paul, as a controversial Greek-speaking Hebrew, evidently met some of the criteria for Lysias to conclude he was a Jewish revolutionist. Consequently, it appears that Lysias suspects him of being “the Egyptian” who “stirred up a revolt and led the four thousand men of the Assassins [σικαρίων] out into the wilderness” (Acts 21:38).

This individual operated around A.D. 53, and this revolution amounted to amassing these four thousand men, positioning themselves upon the Mount of Olives outside Jerusalem, and anticipating the walls of Jerusalem to collapse at his command. The Romans attacked this band of men, and the Egyptian lost six hundred men, and fled into the wilderness where he disappears awaiting “further revelation.” Evidently, “the Egyptian” was still on the run, wanted by the Roman military and the tribune was going to see if Paul was this anarchist.[6]

Paul was able to persuade Lysias that he was not an agitator, and provides him with his provincial citizenship as being from Tarsus, in the province of Cilicia (Acts 21:39). This was not an “obscure city” and either this suggests his citizenship could be authenticated, or Paul distinguished himself from the obscure Egyptian. In either case, Paul’s point is clear, he is not the Egyptian; the tribune accepts Paul’s case, and grants Paul an opportunity to speak to the Jews on the steps of the Temple facilities adjoined to the Antonian fortress (Acts 22:39-40).

The Jews did not respond peaceably to Paul’s speech, and Claudius Lysias decides to take Paul into the “barracks” of Antonia and “examine” him through the process of binding him to flog him (Acts 22:22-24). On receiving a report that Paul was a Roman citizen and then making a personal inquiry, Claudius is afraid of having violated the rights of a Roman by having him bound (see “Roman Citizenship” below). Claudius desires to arrive at the truth concerning the Jewish case against Paul and commands the Sanhedrin to assemble. Dissension among the Sanhedrin towards Paul arises again and causes Claudius Lysias to order his men to take Paul to the safety of the Antonian barracks (Acts 22:30-23:10).

Upon learning of a plot to kill Paul, Claudius Lysias summoned a military convoy to leave for Caesarea Maritima. In compliance with Roman law, he also sent a statement of the case to the procurator Antonius Felix. The letter reads:

Claudius Lysias, to his Excellency the governor Felix, greetings.

This man was seized by the Jews and was about to be killed by them when I came upon them with the soldiers and rescued him, having learned that he was a Roman citizen. And desiring to know the charge for which they were accusing him, I brought him down to their council. I found that he was being accused about questions of their law, but charged with nothing deserving death or imprisonment. 

And when it was disclosed to me that there would be a plot against the man, I sent him to you at once, ordering his accusers also to state before you what they have against him. (Acts 23:26-30, English Standard Version)

The letter format is consistent with the general format in the Graeco-Roman world, of “author” to “recipient” with a “greeting” with the subsequent content of the reason for the letter.[7] This letter, however, was not altogether factual. It is an interesting “specimen” of Roman military correspondence (Acts 23:26-30).

Although acknowledging Paul’s innocence, Claudius Lysias gave the impression that he had rescued Paul because of having learned that the apostle was a Roman, whereas in reality, he had violated Paul’s citizenship rights by having him bound and even ordering that he be examined under scourgings. As to the disciple Luke’s knowledge of the letter’s contents, it may be that the letter itself was read at the time Paul’s case was heard.

Roman Citizenship

In Acts 22:23-29, a discussion between Paul and Claudius emerges on the topic of Roman citizenship. Part of Claudius’ investigation procedure to find out more information was to stretch out the detained for whips and flog them.

Before his flogging begins, Paul questions the centurion given this detail, “Is it lawful for you to flog a man who is a Roman citizen and uncondemned?” (Acts 22:25). Roman citizenship had a number of privileges, as John Polhill writes:

A Roman citizen was subject to Roman law and thus was protected from such things as being beaten without a trial, from cruel punishments like crucifixion, and from unlawful imprisonment, rights which did not belong to an ordinary provincial (peregrinus). Citizens had the right of appeal. Only a Roman citizen could legally marry another Roman citizen. Citizens were exempted from certain taxes. Beyond this, there was the considerable factor of honor and deference such a status afforded.[8]

It was such a valued honor, that some people risked the death penalty given for falsely claiming citizenship.[9] Interestingly, one could hold dual citizenship, as Paul was not only a citizen of the city of Rome but was also a citizen of the city of Tarsus from the province of Cilicia (Acts 21.39; 23.34).

Roman citizenship was conferred in a number of ways. The basic ones are as follows:

(1) The most common way was being born of two Roman citizens.

This is the claim Paul makes when asked how he obtained his citizenship (“I am a citizen by birth” Acts 22:28), which implies that both of Paul’s parents were Jewish Roman citizens (cf. #4).

(2) One could obtain citizenship as a reward for military service.

Regularly, military veterans were given citizenship upon discharge. This was the surest way to get it, taking 20 to 25 years depending on the level of ranking.

(3) Imperial conference, though heard of, was not entirely common.

Nevertheless, the emperor could confer citizenship, either on individuals or on whole communities, as in the establishment of a new colony. Often the result of doing some loyal service to Rome. Also, many times through these services, one gained an audience with the Emperor through expensive gifts to members of the inner Imperial court.

This may have been how the Tribune Claudius Lysias gained his citizenship (Acts 22:27-28). In fact, the tribune’s name provides evidence to assume the plausibility that Emperor Claudius (A.D. 41 – A.D. 54) conferred upon Lysias citizenship since those granted this honor would bear the name (the nomen) of the family or patron which conferred it; hence, Lysias gained the name of his patron Claudius. It has been noted that the emperor was quite “promiscuous” in his conference of citizenship.[10]

(4) Roman citizenship was also conferred through the emancipation of a slave from the house of a Roman citizen.

Some have suggested that Paul’s ancestors may have been freedmen from among the thousands of Jews whom Pompey took as slaves in 63 B.C.[11]

Endnotes

  1. H. G. Liddell, An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon: Abridged from Liddel and Scott’s Greek-English Lexicon (1888; repr.; Oak Harbor, Wash.: Logos Research Systems, 1996), 888.
  2. Barclay Newman, Jr., A Concise Greek-English Dictionary of the New Testament, revised ed. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2010), 200.
  3. Newman, A Concise Greek-English Dictionary, 167.
  4. Josephus, Antiquities 15.293; 15.409.
  5. George A. Smith, et al., “Jerusalem,” Encyclopaedia Biblica, eds. T. K. Cheyne and J. Southerland Black (London: A & C Black, 1901), 1:2429.
  6. Robert M. Grant, The Sword and the Cross (New York, NY: Macmillan, 1955), 49.
  7. T. C. Mitchell, Biblical Archaeology: Documents from the British Museum (New York, NY: University of Cambridge, 1988), 89.
  8. John B. Polhill, “Political Background of the New Testament,” Foundations for Biblical Interpretation, eds. David S. Dockery, et al. (Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman, 1994), 531-32.
  9. Abraham J. Malherbe, “Life in the Graeco-Roman World,” The World of the New Testament, ed. Abraham J. Malherbe (1967; repr., Abilene, Tex.: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984), 9.
  10. Polhill, “Political Background of the New Testament,” 532.
  11. John B. Polhill, “Political Background of the New Testament,” 532; Richard R. Losch, The Uttermost Part of the Earth: A Guide to Places in the Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2005), 176-77.

This originally appeared as a fully edited submission to Wikipedia.org. I have posted this here in case it is revised or rewritten.