Category: Patristics

Marcion and the Formation of the New Testament Canon

On By Jovan PayesIn 2005, Bibliology, Church History, Freed-Hardeman University, Graduate Work, New Testament, New Testament Canon, Patristics, Theology1 Comment

This paper discusses one particular complex external historical figure in the history of the shaping of the New Testament canon: Marcion of Sinope (c. AD 85–160) and his influence. Did Marcion create the idea to form a New Testament canon?

This is principally a historical exploration; however, there are numerous theological aspects that must be reflected upon and critiqued in order to have a functional and accurate understanding of Marcion’s role.

Factors and Dynamics

The history of the biblical canon is home to many overlapping complexities. The study of these aspects reveals the richness of canonical development, especially when one differentiates between the histories of the Hebrew and the Christian canons respectively.[1] 

Canonical development can be studied from a theological vantage point, taking into account theological motives for the collection of books; however, such theological motivations must also be placed in a historical framework.[2] On this point, note Nicolaas Appel: “the mystery of Scripture and faith of the Christian community go hand in hand. The canon of Scripture and human history cannot be separated.”[3] The development of the canon combines theology and history, consequently, one’s approach must of necessity intertwine these two factors.

These dynamics of theology and history may be described as internal and external factors. Church historian, Everett Ferguson, differentiates between these somewhat intuitive concepts:

The conviction of a new saving work of God in Christ, its proclamation by apostles and evangelists, and the revelation of its meaning and application by prophets and teachers, led naturally to the writing of these messages and their acceptance as authoritative in parallel with the books already regarded as divine. External factors did not determine that there would be a New Testament canon nor dictate its contents. However, external factors influenced the process of definition and likely hastened that process.[4]

(Ferguson, “Factors”)

The external factors are largely seen as “debates in the post-apostolic church” where the matter was how to find the “voice of revelation and authentic Christianity” in the midst of doctrinal controversy. Thus, as a matter of course, external factors helped in the “definition of the boundaries of right belief”–orthodoxy.[5]

Marcion’s influence in the church came about for several reasons and is not limited to his gnostic tendencies. Marcion rejected a large number of canonical works: the entire Old Testament, and all of the New Testament canon except for eleven edited documents (Luke, Romans-2 Thessalonians, Philemon). In essence, in creating a list of authoritative books it may be said that he created a canon, though likely this was a list of edited documents that represented his particular view of Christianity. Historically, Marcion’s list is considered the earliest “canonical list” of the new Christian community.[6] Consequently, a discussion has arisen, questioning if Marcion is “the father” of canonical development.

Marcion’s early second-century A.D. formation of a collection of authoritative documents affirming Christian faith is chronologically significant.[7] Until Marcion’s time, the post-apostolic church does not appear to have outlined a collection, consequently, some scholars believe that Marcion initiated the contours of the New Testament canon. Others believe a better explanation is that Marcion merely sped along a pre-existing process. After all, the theological principle of the canon was well understood among Jewish Christians, having a canonical set of books of their own.[8]

Additionally, the apostles’ oral preaching and written instruction to the churches demonstrated their authority.[9] But what shall be here presented is that from a practical point of view, a fluid form of a “canon” existed in the late first century and early second century, even if quantitatively incomplete.[10] If this can be shown, then Marcion is not the creator of the idea of the Christian canon.[11]

Marcion of Sinope (c. AD 85–160)

Background

One cannot understand Marcion’s role in the formation of the canon without consideration of his life and beliefs. Church historian, Philip Schaff, remarks that Marcion was raised in a Christian tradition in Pontus near the Black Sea; in fact, his father was a bishop of Sinope in Pontus.[12] Despite being zealous and sacrificial, “due to some heretical opinions,” Schaff observes, he “was excommunicated by his own father, probably on account of his heretical opinions and contempt for authority.”[13]

After leaving Pontus, Marcion traveled to Rome (A.D. 140–155), joined Cerdo (a Syrian Gnostic), and popularized his views among the various Italian churches during his preaching tours.[14] It was during this period that Marcion made a name for himself in Christian history, as he advanced his Christian-based Gnostic teaching, and edited a corpus of New Testament works. Bruce Metzger notes that Marcion was eventually excommunicated in Rome for his heretical views.[15] This move only solidified Marcion as a significant heretic of his time, so much so, that Edwin Yamauchi ranks him among the top eight Gnostic heretics of the second and third centuries.[16]

A Gnostic Heretic

Marcion is “known” as a Gnostic heretic of the ancient church, but one must be cautious regarding such labels. Harold Brown provides one particular strong reason why. Brown distinguishes between the gnostic movement  –“a widespread religious phenomenon of the Hellenistic world at the beginning of the Christian Era”– and the Christian manifestation of this movement designated Gnosticism (lowercase g, versus uppercase G).[17] Brown’s distinction is noteworthy as the Christian gnostic movement, Gnosticism, was “a response to the widespread desire to understand the mystery of being: it offered detailed, secret knowledge of the whole order of reality, claiming to know and to be able to explain things of which ordinary, simple Christian faith was entirely ignorant.”[18]

As a fundamental aspect of this belief, existence was viewed as “a constant interplay between two fundamental principles, such as spirit and matter, soul and body, good and evil.”[19] But the gnostic worldview and its Christian mutation are not monolithic.

Edwin Yamauchi notes that Marcion “was not a typical Gnostic. He stressed the need of faith rather than gnosis. But his attitude toward the Old Testament was typically Gnostic.”[20] Thus, Marcion was not always fully aligned with other Gnostic ideas. Despite this distinction, it is noteworthy to see how Irenaeus (b. AD 130), a contemporary critic of Marcion, describes Marcion’s influence and placement among the gnostics in the church.

Irenaeus places Marcion within the stream of Cerdo, a second-century gnostic teacher:

Marcion of Pontus succeeded him [Cerdo], and developed his doctrine. In so doing, he advanced the most daring blasphemy against Him who is proclaimed as God by the law and the prophets, declaring Him to be the author of evils, to take delight in war, to be infirm of purpose, and even to be contrary to Himself.[21]

(Against Heresies 1:27:2)

Irenaeus affirms a connection between Cerdo and Marcion flavored with “passing of the heretical torch” overtones. Justin Martyr (c. AD 100–165) regarded him as one who “the devils put forward” (1 Apology 58); moreover, Irenaeus reports that, “Polycarp himself replied to Marcion, who met him on one occasion and said, ‘Dost thou know me?’ ‘I do know thee, the first-born of Satan’” (Against Heresies 3.3.4).

Ferguson suggests patristic descriptions like these of Marcion are rather important because it demonstrates how the early church remembered him; he was a heretic, not a benchmark in canonical development.[22]

Assessing Marcion’s Theology

Unfortunately, Marcion’s work does not exist in any extant manuscript. Outside of his prologues found in Latin New Testament texts, his views are only extant by references in the works of others.[23] Marcion’s only known work is called Antitheses (“Contradictions”), which served in an introductory capacity to his collection of documents.[24] It is not all sure what exactly was in Antitheses; consequently, as Bruce Metzger words it, “we have to content ourselves with deducing its contents from notices contained in the writings of opponents – particularly in Tertullian’s five volumes written against Marcion.”[25] Extant patristic authors who paid particular attention to Marcion are Justin Martyr (1 Apology), Irenaeus (Against Heresies), and Hippolytus (Refutation of All Heresies).

Christian historians are left to boil down Marcion’s beliefs. Schaff suggested three points at the maximum.[26] John Barton, however, reduces his theology in a two-fold manner.[27]

In Schaff’s summary of Marcion’s religious views, he acknowledges his Gnostic influences and beliefs but qualifies that Marcion was also a firm believer in Christianity as the only true religion. Still, it must be reminded that it was Marcion’s version of Christianity which he thought was the only true religion. Schaff writes:

Marcion supposed two or three primal forces (archaí): the good or gracious God (theòs agathós), whom Christ first made known; the evil matter (húlē), ruled by the devil, to which heathenism belongs; and the righteous world-maker (dēmiourgòs díkaios), who is the finite, imperfect, angry Jehovah of the Jews.[28]

(Schaff, History of the Christian Church 2.484).

Marcion, though, rejected the “pagan emanation theory, the secret tradition, and the allegorical interpretation of the Gnostics,” the typical gnostic tenets of Pleroma, Aeons, Dynameis, Syzygies, and the suffering Sophia.[29] These are the various ways in which Marcion did not stand in the same grouping as other Gnostics of his era. Yet, in short, on Schaff’s evaluation, Marcion believed in the good God of Jesus, an evil material universe, and that the Old Testament God was a finite imperfect world-marker. These are clearly on the grid of Gnosticism.

John Barton argues compellingly, however, that Marcion was in error in two large ways, each of which revealed how he viewed the Bible. The first is found in how he interpreted the God of the Old Testament:

[Marcion] had rejected the Old Testament as having any authority for Christians, arguing that the God of whom it spoke, the God of the Jews, was entirely different from the Christian God who had revealed himself in Jesus as the Savior of the world; indeed, it was from the evil creator-god of the Old Testament that Jesus had delivered his followers.[30]

John Barton “Marcion”

Justin Martyr similarly declares, Marcion teaches

his disciples to believe in some other god greater than the Creator. And he, […], has caused many of every nation to speak blasphemies, and to deny that God is the maker of this universe, and to assert that some other being, greater than He, has done greater works.[31]

(First Apology 26)

The second problem Marcion was in his truncation and editorial work on his collection of New Testament documents.[32] Irenaeus wrote:

[Marcion] mutilates the Gospel which is according to Luke, removing all that is written respecting the generation of the Lord, and setting aside a great deal of the teaching of the Lord, in which the Lord is recorded as most dearly confessing that the Maker of this universe is His Father. […]. In like manner, too, he dismembered the Epistles of Paul, removing all that is said by the apostle respecting that God who made the world.[33]

(Against Heresies 1:27:2)

As Tertullian writes, “Marcion expressly and openly used the knife, rather than the pen,” demonstrating that Marcion had a theological purpose for his “final cut.” Such “excisions of the Scriptures” was made, Tertullian explains, “to suit his own subject matter” (Prescription Against Heresies 38).[34]

In Barton’s view, Marcion rejected the Old Testament and accepted Jesus Christ and Christianity apart from Hebrew influences. He did not reject the notion that the God of the Old Testament existed. In fact, he firmly believed that he did. “The problem,” as Barton observes, “was that his creation was evil, and he himself therefore was a malign being; it was precisely the role of Jesus and of the Unknown God now revealed in him, to deliver humankind from the malice of the evil Creator.”[35] The rejection of the Old Testament must be qualified because Marcion accepted its divine origin, only that it is the result of an evil god.[36]

Marcion’s so-called “canon” was, in essence, a product of his version of the Gospel message, namely that “the good news of Jesus and the salvation brought by him” showed that the Old Testament was “the utterances of an evil being.”[37] Yet, his action to establish what he believed to be the authentic “gospel” also “cut” a line in the sand. Retrospectively, his actions affected the history of the Christian canon.

Marcion’s Collection and the Canon

Marcion’s Collection

F. F. Bruce observed that Marcion became the “first person known to us who published a fixed collection of what we should call the New Testament books.”[38] Whether or not others had done so before Marcion is irrelevant, Bruce asserts, as there is no knowledge of any other list.[39]

Marcion’s Antithesis was a treatise on the incompatibility of “law and gospel, of the Creator-Judge of the Old Testament and the merciful Father of the New Testament (who had nothing to do with either creation or judgment).”[40] This led to his bipartite collection (Gospel and Paul). As framed by Tertullian, Marcion composed of a mutilated version of Luke and “dismembered” parts of Paul’s epistles, which were all subject to his editorial “knife.”[41] This collection appeared and began to be circulated around A.D. 140 at the earliest, and possibly A.D. 150 due to a late edition of Luke.[42]

Marcion’s collection of the Gospel and Paul included an edited Gospel of Luke and a reduced Pauline corpus composed of Romans, 1–2 Corinthians, Galatians, Laodiceans (i.e., Ephesians), Philippians, Colossians, 1–2 Thessalonians, and Philemon. This was Marcion’s “canon.” But what is canon?

What is Canon?

The word “canon” (kanōn) has three basic meanings which play, as Harry Gamble observed, some role in the conception of the canonization of Scripture.[43] Deriving from the literal origin of being a reed of bulrush or papyrus, the Greek word kanōn came to denote for the craftsman a “measuring rod,” a “rule,” or simply put “a tool for measurement or alignment” hence “straight rod.”[44] The literal meaning gave way to metaphorical usage in keeping with the concept of standardization, thus canon became also synonymous with “an ideal standard, a firm criterion against which something could be evaluated and judged.”[45] Canon also came to mean “a list” or “a catalog” which seems to have been based on the calibration marks on the reed stick.[46]

All these uses of the canon have also found their way into the broader limits of the liberal arts for identifying unparalleled standards, but when it applies to sacred literature “canon denotes a list or collection of authoritative books.”[47] Canonical Christian literature as Scripture means these works are “the rule of faith” (regula fidei) and “the rule of truth” (regula veritatis); and as such, they are governing normative standards of apostolic faith with inherent value.[48]

It would be a mistake to think of a book that had to wait to be on a list to be regarded as canonical, or representative of faith and truth. As will be noted, canonicity is a qualitative threshold, not a quantitative one. It would be a mistake to think that simply on the grounds of Marcion’s list there were no other books recognized as possessing canonical status.

The Emerging Qualitative Canon

There is sufficient evidence to demonstrate that a fluid form of a canon existed–albeit quantitatively incomplete–in the late first century and the early second century.[49] Two passages that are particularly noteworthy are 2 Peter 3:15–16 and 2 Timothy 4:11–13, for they demonstrate that Paul’s letters were already being collected in the first century. Even if a pseudepigraphic near-second-century view of these epistles is correct, which is still a matter of dispute, the documents are still primary witnesses to the collection process of New Testament documents during this era.[50]

Factors Hindering the Formation of the Canon

Before evaluating what 2 Timothy and 2 Peter bring to the discussion of Marcion’s role in the formation of the New Testament canon, it appears vitally important to remember that there were various factors that hampered the collection process.

Dowell Flatt, Bible Professor of New Testament studies (Freed-Hardeman University), notes that there are at least seven important factors that hampered the canonization process of the New Testament.[51] First, the Old Testament was employed authoritatively and interpreted Christologically by the early church, consequently, “it did not immediately appear that another set of books would be needed.”

Second, the early church was still under the shadow of the Lord’s presence, and many of them would feel “no need for a written account of his life.”

Third, eyewitnesses (apostles and close disciples) to the Lord’s life and work were still alive (1 Cor 15:6); consequently, this adds to the strength of the second point.

Fourth, oral tradition was a vital element in the early Jewish make-up of the early church, and “as strange as it might sound to modern ears, many Jewish teachers did not commit their teachings to writing.” Oral tradition was important even around 130 A.D. for Papias felt that “the word of a living, surviving voice” was more important than “information from books.”[52] Some of the importance placed upon oral tradition is due to the expense of books, and illiteracy; and that Jesus did not write or command his disciples to write a word.[53]

Fifth, the nature of many apostolic writings was letters, not literary works, so is it understandable that “such writings” as the letters “were slow to be fully recognized as Scripture.” Sixth, the belief in a realized eschatology in the first century had “some influence” in hampering of the canonization process.

Seventh, the divinely inspired would speak a prophetic word, and while this was available the church was in no need of a written record per se (Flatt 139). Kurt Aland observes the second-century church, living beyond this blessing, “began to carefully distinguish between the apostolic past and the present.”[54]

King McCarver adds an eighth factor. There was no “ecclesiastical organization” that “composed or established the canon,” but instead the slow reception of these works at various intervals, across a large geographical region, of the early church was the context of the early sifting process before the councils.[55]

Evidence from 2 Peter and 2 Timothy

If Peter is the author of 2 Peter, which the author believes there is sufficient evidence to suggest he is, then the 2 Peter would be dated in the early 60s of the first century (before his traditional martyrdom in A.D. 65). Should 2 Peter be late, the epistle is typically dated to the end of the first century. This is principally due to the strong verbal allusions in the Apostolic Fathers, particularly in 1 Clement (A.D. 95–97) and 2 Clement (A.D. 98–100).[56] The latest reasonable date for 2 Peter is A.D. 80–90, generally argued for by Richard Bauckham, who views the letters as non-Petrine.[57]

In a similar fashion, if Paul is the author of 2 Timothy then it would generally be accepted to be also written in the first century (A.D. 55-60s), before his martyrdom, traditionally under Nero (A.D. 68). However, as W. Kümmel asserts, being a proponent of pseudepigraphic authorship of the pastorals (1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, and Titus), if 2 Timothy is not Pauline then it was probably penned around the “beginning of the second century.[58]

With these relevant items in mind, attention is now given to 2 Timothy and 2 Peter.

2 Peter 3:14–17

2 Peter 3:14–17 is the capstone of a moral argument set forth in the epistolē, rising from both apostolic theology and eschatology. The text may be translated as follows:

[14] Therefore, loved ones, since you wait for these things be eager to be found by him as spotless ones and blameless ones in peace; [15] and consider the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as also our beloved brother Paul (according to the wisdom entrusted to him) wrote to you,[16] as also by all [his] letters addressing these things in them, in which it is hard to understand some things, which those who are ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction as also the remaining Scriptures. [17] You therefore, loved ones, knowing in advance, be on your guard, in order that you may not be carried away from [your] firm footing by the error of lawless people. (Author's Translation)

Of particular interest here is the vocabulary employed in verses 15–16, for it is very clear that the author of 2 Peter is employing the authoritative weight of the Apostle Paul and the group of his letters (pásais epistolaís, “all [his] letters”) to support his argument. Moreover, the false teachers, characterized as being “ignorant” (amatheís) and “unstable” (astēriktoi), are twisting (strebloúsin) Paul’s words and the “remaining Scriptures” (tàs loipàs graphàs) to their “destruction” (apōleian).

The language itself bears very close similarities with canonical language; basically, language which recognizes normative revelation.[59] Conceptionally, the author of 2 Peter is appealing to an inspired holy prophet (i.e., Paul 3:15; cf. 1:20–21; 3:2), the normative Scriptures of the Hebrews (3:5–6), and himself implicitly as one who can identify the “prophetic word” (1.19). Despite one’s views towards the authorship of 2 Peter this simple observation must not be overlooked. Neyrey, who questions the validity of the argument here, recognizes that this may be a claim of “legitimacy […] There is only one tradition of teaching of God’s judgment and Jesus’ parousia.” This has the double effect of authenticating 2 Peter’s argument, while “automatically discrediting” the false teachers.[60]

Richard Bauckham likewise agrees that the author, whoever he is, “wishes to point out that his own teaching (specifically in 3:14–15a) is in harmony with Paul’s because Paul was an important authority for his readers.”[61] The appeal to a normative standard is definitely a necessity in order to demonstrate the validity of the argument. Is that not a canonical concept?

If the author of 2 Peter is employing normative, or standard theological argumentation based upon authoritative figures (Paul and the Old Testament) the implication is that the false teachers are not. Even if they are, the false teachers are so misconstruing Paul and the Old Testament’s affirmations that they are “torturing” them, to the point of making them appear as if they teach something that they do not (strebloúsin); thus, the audience is to understand that there is a normative standard.[62]

The language of the passage is again revealing. Paul is regarded as one who was endowed with wisdom (dotheísan autō sophían), which is a natural allusion to his direct reception of revelation elsewhere synonymously described (1 Cor 2:11–13 lambánō; Gal 1:12–17 apokalúpseōs).[63] The Pauline letters, however many are referred to, are saturated by this wisdom, but are subject to the false teacher’s interpretive methods, and since they are torturing them this behavior leads to their own destruction.

It seems that this destruction stems from the fact that Paul’s letters and tàs loipàs graphàs (“the remaining Scriptures”) in some way share the same character.[64] 2 Peter 3.16 connects this torture of tàs loipàs graphàs to their destruction as well, meaning that the same kind of punishment awaiting those who distort the meaning of Paul’s letters is awaiting those who twist the “rest of the Scriptures.”[65] This refers to the Old Testament Scriptures[66]; even Bauckham, who is opposed to Petrine authorship, concedes at the least that “it would make no sense to take graphàs in the nontechnical sense of ‘writings’; the definite article requires us to give it its technical sense” though he conceives of other books in the author’s purview.[67] Likewise, Earl J. Richard observes, “that the author means to include in this category the OT Scriptures is obvious, but beyond that it is unclear what Christian works would have been thus labeled.”[68]

From these observations, the proposition is advanced that the author of 2 Peter grounds his argumentation in a reference to accepted authority (tradition, or standard). This authority is threefold:  his prophetic office as an apostle; the Apostle Paul’s pásais epistolaís; and the Old Testament. Regardless of the position taken on the authorship question of 2 Peter, the method of argumentation is generally transparent despite some criticism of the validity of the logic within 2 Peter 3:15–16, particularly the admission of the difficulty of Paul’s treatment of some matters.[69] As a document existing before Marcion’s influential era, it poignantly addresses its audience with canonical overtones, demonstrates boldly that Marcion could have not fathered the notion of a New Testament canon, for the Peter appeals to the canon of the Hebrew Bible and a fluid Pauline canon-corpus.

One of the main arguments for 2 Peter 3.15-16 is that there is a Pauline corpus of indefinite size (pásais epistolaís), that both the author and his audience were aware of. Therefore, some consideration of an early Pauline corpus must be given. Some working theory of how Paul’s letters were collected and then circulated must be formulated. It is argued here that the process was both gradual in scope and immediate to Paul. The basis for this belief is grounded in slow circulation among the churches, the typical secretarial duty to make copies, and the arrival and usage of the codex.[70] McCarver observes that the occasional nature of the epistles highlights the point that there was some specificity to a given locale, and consequently as other churches desired copies the “exchange and copying” was gradual.[71]

Randolph Richards, while arguing for an unintentional collection, provides evidence that Paul would have had a copy of any letter in which he employed a secretary.[72] It appears to have been a standard secretarial task to make a copy for a proficient letter writer, and then place it within a codex for safekeeping, which in turn would be a depository for later publication if desired. A codex then became a warehouse for a penman; it would allow the neat copying of helpful phrases or expressions for another letter. Likewise, the secretary would have a copy of the letters for records. Thus, Richards argues that the codex became a practical matter, which ultimately became a pivotal matter in the formation of a Pauline corpus.[73]

2 Timothy 4:11–13

Despite the work being considered pseudonymous by many scholars, 2 Timothy 4:11–13 contributes to this discussion. The text reads:

[11] Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. [12] Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus. [13] When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments. (Holy Bible, ESV)

The term “parchments” (membránas) is rather interesting since Paul, according to Richards, “is the only Greek writer of the first century to refer to membránai, a Roman invention.”[74] Parchment codices were used to retain copies of letters for future use to prepare rough drafts of other letters later written to be dispatched.

Interestingly, Richards ponders how this passage is affected if 2 Timothy is non-Pauline, and says that it only affects the explicit claim by Paul, but one can still “contend for Paul’s retaining his copies in a codex notebook solely because of customary practice.”[75] If 2 Timothy is Pauline, it would not be too much longer before Peter would arrive in Rome, if he had not been in Rome already.

Richards speculates fairly that “if Paul retained copies, then in the early 60s there was possibly only one collection in existence – namely, Paul’s personal set of copies.”[76] In connection the Peter and 2 Peter 3:15–16, Richards writes:

The possibility of Peter’s being aware of these [Paul’s person set of letters] or even having read them would be remote unless one postulate, as early traditions do, that Peter and Paul were both in Rome in the early 60s. In such a case, Peter a was in the only place where he could have seen copies of Paul’s letters. It is not unreasonable then to suggest that Peter would not have reviewed what had been written to churches in Asia Minor by Paul before he himself wrote to them, particularly if he was aware that some were confused by Paul’s letters.[77]

Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters”

Such evidence appears compelling, however, it must be regarded as probable. Despite some of the speculative nature of the reconstruction, Richards’ theory holds up rather strongly with what would have taken place if the traditions of Paul and Peter are correct, and further addresses in a realistic fashion how Peter would have had access to a corpus of Paul’s letters. To say the least, 2 Timothy bolsters the argument made here that there was the beginning of a New Testament document collection earlier than Marcion’s canon.

In light of these points, Simon J. Kistemaker makes a contributing observation that adds bulk to the view that the documents themselves were intrinsically authoritative, but it took time for the church universal to sift through this tremendous body of literature and come to an agreement. Kistemaker argues that the church was accepting a qualitative canon until it accepted a quantitative canon:

“The books themselves, of course, have always been uniquely authoritative from the time of their composition. Therefore, we speak of a qualitative canon in early stages that led to a quantitative canon centuries later. The incipient canon began to exist near the end of the first century. The completed canon was recognized by the Church near the end of the fourth century.[78]

Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament“

Consequently, as has often been maintained, “the church did not create the canon,” but instead, developed from the bottom of the post-apostolic church structure to the top in the various councils to give focused attention to the authenticity of these works.[79]

Assessment

What may be said then regarding Marcion’s role in the formation of the New Testament Canon? Marcion does take a large place in New Testament canonical discussions. C. F. D. Moule poses several possibilities: “was Marcion’s [canon] the first canon, and is the orthodox canon the catholic [i.e. universal] Church’s subsequent reply? Or did Marcion play fast and loose with an already existing canon?” Moule’s answer: “There is at present no absolutely conclusive evidence for the existence of a pre-Marcionite catholic canon. Marcion may have been the catalyst […]. We cannot be certain.”[80]

However, because of the evidence above, it appears that there is more reason to suggest that Marcion was a catalyst to speed along what had been taking a slow time to develop.

Despite Marcion being the “first person known to us who published a fixed collection,”[81] that propelled the church at large to collect an authoritative set of Scripture,[82] the only way, as Ferguson argues, that it can be accepted that Marcion created the canon is possible, is “only by not recognizing the authority that New Testament books already had in the church.”[83] Metzger frames the situation well:

If the authority of the New Testament books resides not in the circumstance of their inclusion within a collection made by the Church, but in the source from which they came, then the New Testament was in principle complete when the various elements coming from the source had been written. That is to say, when once the principle of the canon has been determined, then ideally its extent is fixed and the canon is complete when the books which by principle belong to it have been written. (Metzger 283-84)[84]

Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament

Truly, if the New Testament documents are going to be canonical, then they must have been such due to their inherent value which was theirs as they were completed by God’s spokesperson.

In the end, it is argued in agreement with E. Schnabel, that while Marcion may be the first known person to have put together a list of books in the canonical sense, which provoked the church “to draw up its own list,” he did not, however, create the fundamental idea of that a book (or list of books) could be authoritative (i..e, canonical)–an idea which had existed in earlier Christian times.[85]

Endnotes

  1. Eckhard Schnabel, “History, Theology, and the Biblical Canon: An Introduction to Basic Issues,” Them 20.2 (1995): 19–21.
  2. Wilber T. Dayton, “Factors Promoting the Formation of the New Testament Canon,” JETS 10 (1967): 28–35.
  3. Nicolaas Appel, “The New Testament Canon: Historical Process and Spirit’s Witness,” TS 32.1 (1971): 629.
  4. Everett Ferguson, “Factors Leading to the Selection and Closure of the New Testament Canon: A Survey of Some Recent Studies,” in The Canon Debate, edited by Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 295.
  5. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309.
  6. F. F. Bruce, The New Testament Documents: Are they Reliable? 5th ed. (repr., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 22.
  7. F. F. Bruce, The Canon of Scripture (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1988), 134.
  8. Milton Fisher, “The Canon of the New Testament,” The Origin of the Bible, ed. Philip Comfort (Wheaton: Tyndale, 2003), 65.
  9. Fisher, “Canon of the New Testament,” 69.
  10. Simon J. Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament,” JETS 20 (1977): 10.
  11. Schnabel, “History,” 19.
  12. Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (1858–1867; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 2:484.
  13. Schaff, History, 2:484.
  14. Ibid.
  15. Bruce M. Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997), 90.
  16. Edwin Yamauchi, “The Gnostics and History,” JETS 14 (1971): 29.
  17. Harold O. J. Brown, Heresies: Heresy and Orthodoxy in the History of the Church (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000), 39.
  18. Brown, Heresies, 39.
  19. Brown, Heresies, 40.
  20. Yamauchi, “Gnostics and History,” 29.
  21. All Ante-Nicene Fathers quotations are taken from Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Robertson and James Donaldson (1885; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004).
  22. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309-10.
  23. This is much like how the views of Porphyry, the neo-platonic antagonist of Christianity, are known (Bruce, Canon, 141).
  24. Metzger, Canon, 91; Ferguson, “Factors,” 309.
  25. John Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” The Canon Debate, edited by Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 341–54. 353; Metzger, Canon, 91.
  26. Schaff, History, 2.484.
  27. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  28. Schaff, History, 2.484.
  29. Schaff, History, 2.484-85; Yamauchi, “Gnostics and History,” 30-33.
  30. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  31. Justin Martyr, First Apology 26. Translated by Marcus Dods and George Reith in Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature, 1885). Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight.
  32. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  33. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1:27:2. Translated by Alexander Roberts and William Rambaut in Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature, 1885). Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. 
  34. Tertullian, Prescription Against Heresies 38; David W. Bercot, ed., “Marcion,” A Dictionary of Early Christian Beliefs (1998, reprint, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000), 420.
  35. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 344.
  36. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 345.
  37. Ibid., 345.
  38. Bruce, Canon, 134.
  39. Ibid., 134.
  40. Bruce, Canon 136
  41. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1:27:2; Tertullian, Prescription Against Heresies 38.
  42. Thomas D. Lea, and David Alan Black, The New Testament: Its Background and Message, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Broadman, 2003), 73; Merrill C. Tenney and Walter M. Dunnett, New Testament Survey. Rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 408; Metzger, Canon, 98.
  43. Harry Y. Gamble, The New Testament Canon: Its Making and Meaning (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 15–18; BDAG 507–08.
  44. Gamble, Canon, 15; MM 320.
  45. Gamble, Canon, 15
  46. Gamble, Canon, 15
  47. Richard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen. Handbook of Biblical Criticism, 3rd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 29.
  48. Cecil M. Robeck, Jr., “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation in the Early Church,” Church, Word, and Spirit:  Historical and Theological Essays in Honor of Geoffrey W. Bromiley, edited by James E. Bradley and Richard A. Muller (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987), 70; Gamble, Canon, 16–17; Linda L. Belleville, “Canon of the New Testament,” Foundations for Biblical Interpretation, edited by. David S. Dockery, Kenneth A. Matthews, and Robert B. Sloan. Nashville: Broadman, 1994. 375: Lea and Black, The New Testament, 70–71.
  49. Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  50. D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 367–71, 433–35.
  51. The main list of this section comes from Dowell Flatt, “Why Twenty-Seven New Testament Books?” Settled in Heaven: Applying the Bible to Life, edited by David Lipe (Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman University, 1996), 139; cf. James A. Brooks, Broadman Bible Commentary, edited by Clifton J. Allen (Nashville: Broadman, 1969), 8:18–21.
  52. Paul L. Maier, translator, Eusebius: The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 1999), 127.
  53. On illiteracy see Alan Millard, Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus (Sheffield, England: Sheffield, 2001), 154–84. On the point that there is no explicit command by Jesus to write biblical books see D. I. Lanslots, The Primitive Church, Or The Church in the Days of the Apostles (1926, reprint, Rockford, IL: Tan Books, 1980), 102–09.
  54. Kurt Aland, “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudonymity in Christian Literature of the First Two Centuries,” JETS 12 (1961), 47.
  55. King McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible? – New Testament,” God’s Word for Today’s World:  The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture, edited by Don Jackson, et al. (Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986), 88; Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  56. Michael W. Holmes, editor, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004), 23, 104; Robert E. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter in the Apostolic Fathers,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 33 (1988), 57–83.
  57. Richard J. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter (Waco, TX: Word, 1983), 157–58.
  58. Werner Georg Kümmel, Introduction to the New Testament, translated by Howard Clark Kee (Nashville: Abingdon, 1986), 387.
  59. D. Edmond Hiebert, “Selected Studies from 2 Peter Part 4: Directives for Living in Dangerous Days: An Exposition of 2 Peter 3:14-18a,” BSac 141 (1984): 336.
  60. Jerome H. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 1993), 250.
  61. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 328.
  62. BDAG 948.
  63. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 329.
  64. Hiebert, “Selected Studies,” 336; Thomas R. Schreiner, 1, 2 Peter, Jude (Nashville: Broadman, 2003), 397–98; L&N 1:61.
  65. BDAG 602; W. Günther H. Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” NIDNTT 3:252.
  66. Raymond C. Kelcy, The Letters of Peter and Jude (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1987), 162; Tord Fornberg, An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society: A Study of 2 Peter, translated by Jean Gray (Sweden: Boktryckeri, 1977), 22; Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” 252.
  67. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 333.
  68. Earl J. Richard, Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter: A Literary and Theological Commentary (Macon, GA: Smyth, 2000), 390.
  69. Luke T. Johnson, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986), 443–44; Richard, 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter, 388; Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 250.
  70. McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible?,” 88; E. Randolph Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters,” BBR 8 (1998): 155–66.
  71. McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible?” 88.
  72. Richards, “The Codex,” 158–59.
  73. Richards, “The Codex,” 162–66.
  74. Richards, “The Codex,” 161.
  75. Richards, “The Codex,” 159–62.
  76. Richards, “The Codex,” 165.
  77. Richards, “The Codex,” 165–66.
  78. Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  79. Kistemaker, “Canon” 13; McCarver 88-90; Flatt 140-42
  80. C. F. D. Moule, The Birth of the New Testament (London: Black, 1973), 198.
  81. Bruce 134
  82. Edward W. Bauman, An Introduction to the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961), 175.
  83. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309–10.
  84. Metzger, Canon, 283–84
  85. Schnabel, “History, Theology,” 19.

Bibliography

Aland, Kurt. “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudonymity in Christian Literature of the First Two Centuries.” Journal of Theological Studies 12 (1961): 39-49.

Appel, Nicolaas. “The New Testament Canon: Historical Process and Spirit’s Witness.” Theological Studies 32.1 (1971): 627-46.

Barton, John. “Marcion Revisited.” The Canon Debate. Eds. Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002. 341-54.

Bauckham, Richard J. Jude, 2 Peter. Word Biblical Commentary. Vol. 50. Gen. eds. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker. Waco, TX:  Word, 1983.

Bauman, Edward W. An Introduction to the New Testament. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961.

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, F.W. Danker, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Belleville, Linda L. “Canon of the New Testament.” Foundations for Biblical Interpretation: A Complete Library of Tools and Resources. Eds. David S. Dockery, Kenneth A. Matthews, and Robert B. Sloan. Nashville: Broadman, 1994.

Bercot, David W. Editor. A Dictionary of Early Christian Beliefs. 1998. Reprint, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000.

Brooks, James A. Broadman Bible Commentary. Vol. 8. Ed. Clifton J. Allen. Nashville: Broadman, 1969.

Brown, Harold O. J. Heresies: Heresy and Orthodoxy in the History of the Church. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000.

Bruce, F.F. The Canon of Scripture. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1988.

—. The New Testament Documents: Are they Reliable? 5th ed. Leicester/Grand Rapids:  InterVarsity/Eerdmans, 2000.

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

Dayton, Wilber T. “Factors Promoting the Formation of the New Testament Canon.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 10 (1967): 28-35.

Ferguson, Everett. “Factors Leading to the Selection and Closure of the New Testament Canon: A Survey of Some Recent Studies.” The Canon Debate. Eds. Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002. 295-320.

Fisher, Milton. “The Canon of the New Testament.” The Origin of the Bible. Ed. Philip Comfort. Wheaton: Tyndale, 2003. 65-78.

Flatt, Dowell. “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?” Settled in Heaven: Applying the Bible to Life. Ed. David Lipe. Annual Freed-Hardeman University Lectureship. Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman UP, 1996. 138-45.

Fornberg, Tord. An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society: A Study of 2 Peter. Trans. Jean Gray. Sweden:  Boktryckeri, 1977.

Gamble, Harry Y. The New Testament Canon: Its Making and Meaning. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985.

Hiebert, D. Edmond. “Selected Studies from 2 Peter Part 4:  Directives for Living in Dangerous Days:  An Exposition of 2 Peter 3:14-18a.” Bibliotheca Sacra 141 (1984): 330-40.

Holmes, Michael W. Ed. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. Rev. ed. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004.

Johnson, Luke T. The Writings of the New Testament:  An Interpretation. Philadelphia:  Fortress, 1986.

Kelcy, Raymond C. The Letters of Peter and Jude. The Living Word Commentary:  New Testament. Vol. 17. Ed. Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX:  Abilene Christian UP, 1987.

Kistemaker, Simon J. “The Canon of the New Testament.” Journal of Evangelical Theological Society 20 (1977):  3-14.

Krienke, W. Günther H. “Remnant, Leave.” New International Dictionary of the New Testament Theology. Vol. 3. Ed. Colin Brown. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1978. 247-54.

Kümmel, Werner Georg. Introduction to the New Testament. Trans. Howard Clark Kee. Nashville: Abingdon, 1986.

Lanslots, D. I. The Primitive Church, Or The Church in the Days of the Apostles. 1926. Reprint, Rockford, IL: Tan Books, 1980.

Lea, Thomas D., and David Alan Black. The New Testament:  Its Background and Message. 2nd ed. Nashville:  Broadman, 2003.

(L&N) Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene A. Nida. Eds. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament Based on Semantic Domains. 2nd ed. New York: United Bible Society, 1989. 2 vols.

Maier, Paul L. Trans. Eusebius:  The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary. Grand Rapids:  Kregel, 1999.

McCarver, King. “Why Are These Books in the Bible? – New Testament.” God’s Word for Today’s World:  The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture. Don Jackson, Samuel Jones, Cecil May, Jr., and Donald R. Taylor. Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986.

Metzger, Bruce M. The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997.

Millard, Alan. Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus. Sheffield, England:  Sheffield, 2001.

Moule, C.F.D. The Birth of the New Testament. London: Black, 1973.

(MM) Moulton, James H., and George Milligan. The Vocabulary of the Greek Testament. 1930. Peabody:  Hendrickson, 1997.

Neyrey, Jerome H. 2 Peter, Jude:  A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible. Vol. 37 C. Gen. ed. William F. Albright and David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1993

Picirilli, Robert E. “Allusions to 2 Peter in the Apostolic Fathers.” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 33 (1988):  57-83.

Richard, Earl J. Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter: A Literary and Theological Commentary. Reading the New Testament Series. Macon, GA:  Smyth, 2000.

Richards, E. Randolph. “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters.” Bulletin for Bulletin Research 8 (1998):  151-66.

Robeck, Cecil M., Jr. “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation in the Early Church.” Church, Word, and Spirit:  Historical and Theological Essays in Honor of Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Eds. James E. Bradley and Richard A. Muller. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987.

Robertson, Alexander, and James Donaldson. Eds. Ante-Nicene Fathers. Vols.1, 3-4. 1885. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004.

Schaff, Philip. History of the Christian Church. Vols. 1-3. 1858-1867. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002.

Schnabel, Eckhard. “History, Theology, and the Biblical Canon: An Introduction to Basic Issues.” Themelios 20.2 (1995): 16-24.

Schreiner, Thomas R. 1, 2 Peter, Jude. The New American Commentary. Vol. 37. Gen. ed. E. Ray Clendenen. Nashville: Broadman, 2003.

Soulen, Richard N., and R. Kendall Soulen. Handbook of Biblical Criticism. 3rd ed. Rev. and expanded. Louisville: WJK, 2001.

Tenney, Merrill C., and Walter M. Dunnett. New Testament Survey. Rev. ed. Revised by Walter M. Dunnett. Grand Rapids/Leicester: Eerdmans/InterVarsity, 2001.

Yamauchi, Edwin. “The Gnostics and History.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 14.1 (1971): 29-40.

The Humanity of Jesus the Son

On By Jovan PayesIn Christology, Graduate Work, Hope International University, Jesus Studies, Patristics, Theology

The phrases Jesus Christ, the Christ of faith, the Jesus of history, and Jesus the Divine Son all reflect significant themes pertaining to the central figure of the New Testament, Jesus of Nazareth. These concepts fall within a specialized area of theology known as Christology, which is a systematic “study of Christ” based on the full biblical picture derived from scripture.

A bit more formally, this field of study speaks to the Christian endeavor to map Jesus’ placement within “time and eternity, humanity and divinity, particularity and universality.” It answers how the life of a seemingly benign first-century Jewish rabbi could be so “relevant for all people and all times” (McGrath 2017, 207).

The present discussion maps Jesus’ Son-relationship in the triune unity of God, and the nature of his humanity. It then reflects on how the humanity of Jesus is relevant to the Christian’s personal walk before God.

Jesus the Son and the Trinity

The Trinitarian Formula

The divinity of Jesus is established in many passages of the New Testament. For example, Matthew closes with an appearance of Jesus where he affirms his authority “in heaven and on earth.” With this authority, he commissions his disciples for an international burden, 

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (28:18–19 NRSV). [All Scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]

Three themes are clear in this passage: Jesus’ divine authority, discipleship made in baptism, and the trinitarian language of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the early generations of the church, the above trinitarian formula would represent a highly nuanced concept of monotheism affirmed to be in continuity with the “one God” of the Hebrew Bible.

What forced early Jewish Christians to accept this nuanced view of monotheism? The answer: the character and nature of Jesus did. It is not subversive of the “oneness” of God (Deut 6:4) but depends on the New Testament’s clarification that the “one God” is not a simplistic model. As the clarification argues, the Divine Son is not God the Father, nor is he the Holy Spirit. This raises tough questions that the historical church has discussed in earnest and in conflict for generations.

How do we map this out theologically?

The Divine Son Portrayed

We turn to the presence of Jesus and how He is portrayed in relation to the Father and the Holy Spirit.

In the first century, the prologue to the Fourth Gospel (John 1:1–3, 14) affirms that the person and nature of Jesus is the driving force to reshape the whole biblical landscape of the concept of God (Gen 1:1; Exod 20:11). 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being... And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1:1–3a, 14)

Jesus not only pre-existed as the lógos at the time of creation (John 1:1), but he also “emptied” (ekénōsen) himself to take on the “form [morphē] of a slave”—a human (Phil 2:6–7). Leaning heavily on John 1:14, the Alexandrian theologian, Athanasius, concluded that this “human body” was taken by this same “Word of God” (Placher 2003, 184).

On this view, there was no room within this theology for Arius’ affirmation that Jesus the Son—the Word—was a created being who subsequently became divine. This view reduced Jesus to a creature impotent to redeem humanity (McGrath 2017, 217–19).

The Divine Association

As McGrath (2017, 214) chronicles, the divinity of Christ was one of the first major theological battles of the early church as it sought to hammer out its understanding of the contours of a very genuine human being in Jesus who, at the same time, was portrayed as being more than a mere human. The “battle” was not over the deity of Christ as such (that was established), but how to understand the relationship between his humanity and his divinity.

The divinity of Jesus was therefore accepted as true as his humanity—as affirmed in Chalcedon (AD 451)—which means that the question left to map out was the relationship between Jesus and the Father and the Holy Spirit.

The only way to do this is by evaluating Scripture (Jenson 2003, 194). Despite certain reservations, Jenson argues clearly that Peter’s application of the divine title “Lord” from Joel 2 (kyrios LXX) to Jesus in Acts 2:33–34 (kyrios) demonstrates that

the risen Christ, without violation of God’s singularity, does what only the God of Israel himself does, and that he does this precisely by virtue of his situation with the God of Israel. (2003, 194)

Jensen in Essentials of Christian Theology (2003)

Jensen points out that the emerging notion of association that comes from the word “with” points to the “inescapably observable fact” that the biblical narrative is framed by three divine characters in its drama (2003, 195): the God of Israel, Jesus his Son, and the life-giving Spirit of God.

Agreeing with Jenson (2003, 196), Jesus should not be viewed as a mere successive mode of God’s presence in time (modalism) or as the Father’s subordinate agent with the Spirit in time (subordinationism). Instead, Jesus maintains an eternally mutual and reciprocal relationship with the Father and the Spirit. For this reason, ancient Christians used an analogy inspired by the theater, that is to say, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit although three in persona (mask) are one in Divine substance. Another model is found in Martin Buber’s I-You relationship model (McGrath 2017,179–80).

Understanding the Humanity of Jesus

What, then, goes into mapping this theological tension of the Son and the Trinity?

Mapping the nature of Jesus’ humanity—in balance with his divinity—requires great caution. The traditional doctrine of the incarnation (literally, “becoming bodily”) affirms both the full humanity of Jesus and his divinity. Any attempt to isolate what is organically interwoven in the person and work of Jesus runs a high risk of distortion.

Overcompensating to account for the humanity of Jesus has typically been met with the “stamp” of heresy. Three, in particular, are Ebionism, Arianism, and Docetism (McGrath 2017, 214–20). 

The roots of Ebionism are Jewish. It framed Jesus through the lenses of a human prophet, as called and anointed by the Holy Spirit. As a low Christology, Jesus is only a “spiritually superior” human. This does not align with the picture of his eternal pre-existence as Creator.

Plotted on another point on the map is Arianism (named after Arius), which called into question the “fully divine” and “fully human” affirmation due to an irreconcilable application of the Greek notion of divine impassability and the doctrine of the incarnation. God cannot be both changeable (fully human) and transcendent (fully divine), therefore, the incarnation strikes at the perfect nature of the one God. Jesus must therefore be a “superior created being” with nothing divine to report. This failed to account for the actual testimony of the gospels where in fact this is possible.

Meanwhile, Docetism affirmed, with its hardline separation of God and the present evil world of matter (due to its gnostic foundation), the divine incarnation of John 1:14 was nothing more than “pretend.” The heresy’s name (or tendency) is derived from the Greek word dokéō (“to seem”) affirming Jesus only “seemed” to have a body in which he suffered and died, making the incarnation “into a fake” (Placher 2003, 183). Scripturally, the work of Christ is dependent on the fully human (Luke 24:38–39) and fully divine Jesus manifested in the death of the cross and resurrection from the dead (Rom 1:3–4).

Similarly, the opening line of 1 John affirms the humanity of the “Word of Life”: “what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands” (1:1).

Likewise, in the second century CE, Ignatius of Antioch (ca. 35–ca. 110) stressed his concern to the Christians of Trallia that they should guard against (“be deaf,” kōphóthēte 9.1) anything which undermines the humanity of Christ with the following words:

Jesus Christ, who was of the family of David, who was the son of Mary; who really was born, who both ate and drank; who really was persecuted under Pontius Pilate, who really was crucified and died while those in heaven and on earth and under the earth look on; who, moreover, really was raised from the dead when his Father raised him up, who—his Father, that is—in the same way will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life. (“To the Trallians” 9.1–2)

Ignatius of Antioch, “To the Trallians” 9.1-2

The example of Ignatius is interesting because it is early and strongly affirms Jesus’ human form, “who really” (hos alethōs) an adverb repeated four times to assert what is true, actual because it corresponds to what is really so (BDAG 44). For Ignatius, Jesus actually was born, ate and drank, persecuted, crucified and died, and raised from the dead. Ignatius saw denying the humanity of Christ as subversive to the soteriological (the saving, redeeming) and eschatological (end times, fulfilling) work of Christ.

What Does This Mean?

What then does it mean for the Christian that God became flesh to redeem us in the person of Jesus Christ? Two extremes must be cautioned against here. One extreme is to moralize the life of Jesus (1 Pet 2:21), and as such reduces Jesus to a mere good teacher. Another extreme is to make Jesus’ life and teaching into a disjointed symbolic presence of God (i.e., Paul Tillich).

The humanity of Jesus provides me with a great deal of assurance as a believer that God knows through Christ the human plight. Jesus has “assumed all” and can, therefore “heal all” of humanity (Placher 2003, 184). When the “name” Immanuel (“God is with us”) is given to Jesus (Matt 1:23) the associated promise is that “he will save his people from their sins (Matt 1:21). God’s presence in the human child to be born provides a personal locus that can be isolated to time, space, and history.

For all humans, it then becomes quite clear that God is joining the human continuum to reconcile not only “us” but also “the world to himself” in Christ (2 Cor 5:18–19). Paul’s application has massive personal repercussions, 

“if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (5:17)

The humanity of Jesus is not simply a modal expression of God, but God entering into time and space to save, forgive, reconcile, and renew humanity and creation.

It provides the seedbed to take the particular localized Jesus and affirm his enduring value for all humans for all time. As Ignatius wrote, God “will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life” (“To the Trallians” 9.2).

Truly, the humanity of the God-Man Jesus is relevant for the Christian’s personal walk before God because it is the seedbed for all our hopes, especially, hope for the resurrection (1 Cor 15:12–19).

Bibliography

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, Frederick W. Danker, W. F. Ardnt, and F. W. Gingrich. 2000. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago.

Ignatius. 1999. “The Letters of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch.” Pages 128–201 in The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. 2d edition. Edited and revised by Michael W. Holmes. Grand Rapids: Baker Books.

Jenson, Robert W. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 191–205 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

McGrath, Alister E. 2017. Christian Theology: An Introduction. 6th edition. Maldon, Ma: Wiley Blackwell.

Placher, William C. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 183–91 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

Prayer and Fasting in the Greek of Didache 8.1-3

On By Jovan PayesIn Didache, Early Christianity, Fasting, Freed-Hardeman University, Graduate Work, Greek Grammar, Greek Studies, Patristics, Prayer, Research Papers, Spiritual Formation

In 1873 a manuscript was discovered by Philotheus Bryennios at Constantinople dating from the mid-11th century (AD 1056), though its tradition is believed to be of much earlier origin.[1] Due to certain political problems it was not published for ten years; however, once it began to be studied the Didache became generally known as “being the most important literary discovery in patrology made in the nineteenth century.”[2]

In fact, “the Didache (‘The Teaching’), as it is usually known today, is a ‘handbook,’ or manual of Christian ethical instruction and church order.”[3] It is believed that such instruction was offered to each candidate for church membership prior to baptism.

Although the text maintains a basic “literary unity,” the divergent interests and approaches of the materials strongly suggest, “more than one writer is at work here.”[4] One the one hand, the vocabulary and grammar is not extremely difficult; on the other hand, the theological insights from this early Christian document can become complex, particularly when a reconstructed community is conceptualized.

Exegesis of the Greek Text

8.1 (And) let your fasts not stand with the hypocrites, for they fast on the second and on the fifth day of the week, but you fast during the fourth day and during the Sabbath preparation day.[5]

The instruction logically moves from the prior discussion of baptism and the new converts’ requirement of fasting, to a capsulated discussion of fasting and prayer. Draper disagrees, affirming that Didache 8.1-3 is an “interruption to the logical progression of the liturgical section of Didache, in which baptism is followed by the Eucharist.”[6] However, Αἱ δὲ νηστεῖαι ὑμῶν μὴ ἔστωσαν μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν begins with the post-positive δὲ, connecting the logical flow between 7.1-4 and 8.1-3, and should not be viewed as adversative nor as an interruption.[7] Instead, it is a necessary discussion in connection with prospective converts.

The fasts (Αἱ + νηστεῖαι) are the first concern of this chapter, and they are particular fasts – they belong to the readers (ὑμῶν) who are preparing for baptism (Did. 7.4). This is the genitive of possession. The fasts that they are to perform must be expressly free from hypocrisy; moreover, this conclusion is drawn from μὴ ἔστωσαν μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν, where the author(s) of the Didache prohibit fasting (thus, an imperatival prohibition) that is μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν. This prepositional phrase is very descriptive, for it describes “the company in which an activity or experience takes place”; hence, the readers must refrain from joining the group of “hypocrites” (whoever they may be) when they fast.[8]

The prohibition against joining the hypocrites is given specificity by the post-positive γὰρ where it functions as a guide to understanding how to refrain from joining the company of hypocrites when fasting and praying. There seems to be more to the usage of γὰρ than at first glance. If it were simply a matter of explaining that the hypocrites fast on certain days of the week then this conjunction is unnecessary; however, it makes more sense that it takes on a “guide-to-an-ethical-methodology” based upon a cause for the instruction, even if it is too focused upon externals (i.e. specific days of the week).[9] It leads the potential converts to a methodology that allows them to avoid fasting which “coincides with those of the hypocrites” – μετὰ τῶν ὑποκριτῶν (Did. 8.1).[10] In order to express this ethical instruction, Robert Kraft renders the section, “do not let your fasts fall on the same day as ‘the hypocrites.’”[11]

The teacher(s) explain how these prospective converts can avert fasting in the same company as the hypocrites, by explaining that the hypocrites in question fast (νηστεύουσι; present of fact) on δευτέρα σαββάτων καὶ πέμπτῃ.[12] There is considerable discussion regarding who these hypocrites are. On the one hand, most see this as a reference to Pharisees because of the parallel instruction of Jesus in Matt 6:16-18; meanwhile, on the other hand, it is viewed as a reference to Christian Jews who are still partial to the pharisaical traditions.[13]

Aaron Milavec spends considerable time evaluating the evidence for the former, and argues heavily that Matthew and the Didache use the term hypocrisy differently and there is no solid evidence within rabbinic sources that the Pharisees distinguished themselves by fasting.[14] Furthermore, “when Did. 8.1 is compared with Matthew, one quickly detects that the Didache has an agenda and an internal logic quite distinct from that of Matthew’s Gospel.”[15] Be that as it may, from a grammatical and linguistic approach it is inconsequential. The fact of the matter is, the hypocrites fast on δευτέρα σαββάτων καὶ πέμπτῃ, and it is these days that are to be avoided by the soon-to-be-baptized-reader. These days are the second (δεύτερος)[16] and the fifth (πέμπτος)[17] days of the week (σάββατον[18]).

The reader learning which days to avoid is then given a glance into the future (cf. future tense of νηστεύσατε), where they see the days of the week they are going to designate for fasting (τετράδα καὶ παρασκευήν). This idiom for days of the week has been also clarified by Kraft as “Wednesday and Friday,”[19] but such is unnecessary. Consequently, Milavec’s translation is preferred. The post-positive δὲ is adversative, moving away from the days “the hypocrites” occupy for fasting, the δὲ functions to enhance the reader’s understanding that they are to take on the new ethic imposed by the future, but imperative in force, νηστεύσατε (you will fast).

8.2a (And) do not pray as the hypocrites but as the Lord ordered in his good news.

As is characteristic of the imperative, the verb assumes its own subject, being the person(s) who are either to do the express action of the verb, or if negated avoid the action of the verb. Here, there is another negated imperative (μηδὲ προσεύχεσθε) “you are not to pray […]”; however, the idea is incomplete because syntactically it is connected to ὡς οἱ ὑποκριταί “just as the hypocrites.” The idea of “praying” is supplemented by the phrase “just as the hypocrites”; hence, it can be argued that οἱ ὑποκριταί is functioning in an adverbial capacity to μηδὲ προσεύχεσθε. It goes without saying that praying is not what is being denied; instead, and more to the point, it is the type of praying characteristic of the hypocrites which is being denied.

“The hypocrites” almost serve as a biblical caricature of examples of how not to commune with God as a public servant of God (Matt 6:5-7). “The hypocrites” almost serve as a biblical caricature of examples of how not to commune with God as a public servant of God (Matt 6:5-7). Little wonder, that the author(s) contrast this how the prospective converts are not to pray, with a citation to the Gospel of the Lord (ὁ κύριος ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ αὐτοῦ).

This is perhaps the strongest argument that the Pharisees are seen as being equivalent to “the hypocrites”; however, there is no need to be literal since even the name Pharisee can be used figuratively for hypocrites. Be that as it may, the context of the Lord’s admonitions regarding prayer, as particular in Matthew, which has the high verbal agreement with Did. 8.2, has made Pharisee and hypocrite equivalent terms. The main rationale for the Lord’s condemnation is that they make public displays of religious devotion “to be seen by men” (Matt 6:5).

The contrasting ἀλλ’ emphasizes the transition from what not to do, towards the recommended orthodoxy, which is based upon an authoritative tradition. The ground for the moral instruction on prayer is what the Lord commands: ὡς ἐκέλευσεν ὁ κύριος ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ αὐτοῦ. This translates, “as the Lord commanded in his Gospel [or gospel message, good news]”; commanded, ἐκέλευσεν (+ dative), stresses the fact that Jesus himself required the fundamental aspects of proper prayer in his teaching ministry.[20] It is not just theoretical, the instruction may be found in the Lord’s Gospel (or gospel message, good news).

The phrase ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ αὐτοῦ, within itself does not demand that the command is dependent upon a written source especially since it has its divergences.[21] In fact, several scholars believe the following prayer is, though having strong parallels with Matthew 6:9-13,[22] an independent tradition and may have been relied upon by Matthew.[23]

8.2b Pray thus: Our Father, the one in heaven, your name be made holy, you kingdom come, your will be born upon earth as in heaven,

The phrase οὕτω προσεύχεσθε is the resulting imperative calling attention to the reader that they are to “offer prayers” in a certain fashion. The fashion is very closely paralleled with Matthew; however, as Lake discusses there are four divergences between Matthew and the Didache: τῷ οὐρανῷ, τὴν ὀφειλὴν, ἀφίεμεν, and the doxology ὅτι σοῦ ἐστιν ἡ δύναμις καὶ ἡ δόξα εἰς τοὺς αἰῶνας.[24] It takes the totality of Did. 8.1-3 for Lake to affirm:

These three sections, on fasting, on prayer, on the Lord’s Prayer, cannot be separated from each other. They point at least to similar local conditions; but the two former rather weaken the probability that the Lord’s Prayer is a direct quotation from our Matthew.[25]

Kirsopp Lake, The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (1905)

What these differences between Matthew and the Didache suggest is, according to Lake, is nothing too substantive, they simply point to a more complex study of dependency. On this issue Milavec’s investigation on this particularly complex issue led him to conclude that there is no necessary proof that one borrowed from the other.[26] Similarly, according to Lake, these differences between Matthew and the Didache point to a broader sense of dependency (i.e., oral, proverbial) since vocabulary similarities and divergences, and the omission of similar Matthean tensions are absent, and so “the proverbial character of the saying reduces the weight which must be attached to verbal similarity.”[27]

The prepositional phrase ἐν τῷ οὐρανῷ functions as an adjective to ὁ “the one,” suggesting a prepositional phrase functioning in the attributive position; hence, just as ὁ ἄγγελος ὁ καλός translates “the good angel” or “the angel, namely the good one” the opening part of this prayer is attributive in structure: “Our Father [vocative Πάτερ], the one, namely in heaven.” The prayer Did. 8.2b.3 parallels the aorist imperative verbals of Matthew 6:9c-10:

Didache 8.2Matthew 6:9c-10Translation (AT)
ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σουἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σουyour name be sanctified
ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σουἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σουlet your kingdom arrive, 
γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σουγενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σουyour desire come to pass,
ὡς ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ γῆςὡς ἐν οὐρανῷ καὶ ἐπὶ γῆςas in heaven so also on earth
Chart: Textual Parallels

The verbal parallels are striking. However, the usage of this tradition is different in its scope when compared to Matthew’s purpose of this prayer. The Didache has more of a liturgical and ceremonial baptismal preparations, emphasizing the specific wording of the prayer. Jesus, on the others hand, encouraged a well-balanced spiritual and personal prayer life anchored in intimacy with God rather than public fanfare (Matt 6:5-6).[28]

From the perspective of Matthew’s Gospel, the three sets of imperatival verbs are particularly interesting, each bearing a unique concept.[29] Following Jack P. Lewis’ observation, it is clear that the first is clearly a benediction of God greatness (ἁγιασθήτω τὸ ὄνομά σου), the second, stresses a recognition of God’s sovereignty (ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου), and the third, accepts God’s will in any area it is to be accomplished (γενηθήτω τὸ θέλημά σου). It is difficult, therefore, not to impose Matthew’s contextual message upon the Didache; however, because there is a liturgical purpose for this prayer, it does stand in contradistinction to Matthew’s use.

Principally, observe that while Matthew stresses a spiritually fresh prayer life and expression (Matt 6:5-8), as opposed to endless repetitions of words (6:7-8), the Didache actually encourages repetition (Did. 8.3). Draper argues extensively that the community responsible for the final form of the Didache emphasizes external matters of purity for the purpose of maintaining public purity. Draper writes, “the instructions provide for Christian behaviour [sic] in the crucial and public areas of fasting and prayer which would differentiate them from their opponents.”[30]

8.2c give us this day our loaf that is coming, and forgive us our debt at the final judgment as we likewise now forgive our debtors,

In the analysis of this particular section of the Didache prayer, it is noticeable that there are two changes from the Matthew prayer of the Lord. Following the research of Milavec, the theological scope and worldview changes possibly towards a more focused eschatological perspective.[31] It is significant that the verbs in the petitions of the Didache prayer are all aorist imperatives, even the ones paralleled to Matthew (paralleled: ἁγιασθήτω, ἐλθέτω, γενηθήτω, δὸς, ἄφες, ῥῦσαι, and one divergent form ἀφήκαμεν). Milavec makes an eschatological argument, and suggests that all the aorist imperatives suggesting a one-time future action on the part of God must be eschatological in scope.[32]

Consequently, images such as bread (τὸν ἄρτον ἡμῶν) and eating are metonymy for a banquet in the kingdom (Luke 6:21, 14:15, 22:29-30; Matt 8:11; Rev 7:16).[33] Forgiveness within and for the Christian community is, in the Didache prayer, a future promise rather than a present reality and will be judged as a single action.[34] The pressing matter, however, is not to prove or disprove if the Matthew prayer reflects similar nuances in its eschatology. It is enough to understand that the Didache community was firmly aware of their eschatological worldview. 

8.2d-3 and do not lead us into the trial of the last days but deliver us from that evil because your is power and the glory forever. [8.3] Three times within the day pray thus.

This is the final appeal in the aorist construction; however, in this case, the Didache prayer appears to digress from Milavec’s thesis regarding the aorist imperative stressing an eschatological outlook. Specifically, εἰσενέγκῃς is a subjunctive. The distinction within itself does not rule out the larger eschatological implications raised by Milavec, especially since ῥῦσαι, “you are to deliver,” is an aorist imperative verb. Milavec approaches the phrase, καὶ μὴ εἰσενέγκῃς ἡμᾶς εἰς πειρασμόν, and argues that since all the other Aorist Imperatives demand a one time eschatological fulfillment, then it follows this aorist subjunctive still finds resolution in the over arching argument.[35]

The contrastive ἀλλὰ blusters Milavec’s argument since what is really being pleaded for is deliverance from evil (ῥῦσαι ἡμᾶς ἀπὸ τοῦ πονηροῦ), not the pastoral hand of God shepherding his children from πειρασμόν (trials). However, what Milavec finds as evidence for a tribulation, can be potentially argued for as praying with an eschatological worldview, where these Aorist Imperatives – since they are timeless – may view the person’s life until the eschatological end.[36]

One of the unique parts of this section of the Didache 8.2 is the doxology, which is its major divergence from the Matthean prayer. As Kirsopp Lake stingingly remarks:

The peculiar form of the doxology does not agree exactly with any of the forms known to occur in the authorities for the text of Matthew.

Kirsopp Lake, The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (1905)[37]

This has been the continued opinion of the editors of the eclectic Greek Testament texts that the Matthean prayer ends with πονηροῦ. Bruce Metzger observes that the major textual witnesses are late which include the doxology (9th century), the major textual witnesses which omit the doxology are early, and the witnesses which include it are not uniform and appear to be intentional expansion of the prayer when reappropriated for external liturgical use (as in The Didache, etc.).[38] Thus, the association of this doxology with Matthew’s prayer is ancient but it does not have the textual support to be included in the body of the prayer (contra the KJV and Received Text traditions for Matthew 6:13b).

At any rate, the shift given by ὅτι in a very practical sense closes the petitions offered by the potential convert, who acknowledges that “the power and glory belong” to the Father “into the depths of eternal.” The author(s) of the Didache return to their orthodox imperatival thrust: “You will pray like this three times a day.” The present imperative προσεύχεσθε returns the instructive balance to this section of the Didache which continues its “catechism” training for the one interested in joining the Christian community associated with this manual.

Conclusion

In summation, the Didache is a profound find in the field of Patristic Studies, providing insights into the community or communities to which it addressed. The syntax and vocabulary is not at all particularly difficult, it appears to be written at a very basic level.

The section examined demonstrated that there was a strong desire for the early Christians to visibly and practically be separate from any public association with hypocrites. Not even the days of the potential convert could or should coincide with the days which hypocrites fast upon. The references and citations of traditions found within the New Testament (quotations probable but not always necessary), coupled with the possible “new slant” contextualized by the author(s), brings a theological complexity that must be sifted and sorted out before a proper exegesis of the sections can be accomplished.

Endnotes

  1. Dates have ranged from AD 70, late second century, and even the third century; however, Kraft suggests that a secure date is the sometime within the fourth century somewhere near Egypt (Robert A. Kraft, “Didache” ABD 2:197).
  2. Francis X. Glimm, “The Didache or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles,” The Fathers of the Church, ed. R. Joseph Deferrari (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of American Press, 1969), 167-68.
  3. Michael W. Holmes, “Didache” DLNT 300.
  4. Clayton N. Jefford, Kenneth J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga, Reading the Apostolic Fathers: An Introduction (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003), 35.
  5. The translation in the headings is taken from Aaron Milavec, The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life of the Earliest Christian Communities, 50-70 C.E. (New York: Newman, 2003). Other translations will be noted. All uncredited translations are my own (AT).
  6. Jonathan A. Draper, “Christian Self-Definition Against the ‘Hypocrites’ in Didache 8,” Society of Biblical Literature 1992 Seminar Papers, ed. Eugene H. Lovering, Jr. (Atlanta, GA: Scholars, 1992), 364.
  7. The primary Greek text used for this study is from Michael Holmes, ed., The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2004), and Kirsopp Lake, The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1, LCL (London: Heinemann, 1919).
  8. BDAG 637.
  9. BDAG 189.
  10. Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 259.
  11. Kraft, “Barnabas and the Didache,” 165.
  12. Kraft translates this expression as: “Monday and Thursday” (“Barnabas and the Didache,” 165), but we follow Milavec’s lead due to his literalness. Kraft’s translation does bring this idiom into modern parlance. It is preferable to leave it as is (Milavec), since it can be understood apart from accommodation to modern convention similarly done in the New Testament (Matt 28:1-2; Mark 16:1-3; Acts 20:7; 1 Cor 16.1-2).
  13. Glimm, “The Didache,” 177.
  14. Milavec, The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life, 301-03.
  15. Milavec, 302.
  16. Did. 2.1 uses a similar expression, “the second commandment of the teaching is […]” (Holmes, Apostolic Fathers, 252); that is, this is the second of a series of commandments.
  17. Moulton and Milligan provide an example of this sequential use: “showing the housing conditions of the time, we may cite P Fay 3115 (c. a.d. 129) where a woman applies to the keepers of the archives at Arsinoe for leave to alienate πέμπτον μέρος, “the fifth part” of certain house property belonging to her” (MM 502).
  18. BDAG lists both the singular and plural forms of σάββατον referring to a period of seven days, and any numeral connected to it represent that particular day of the week (910).
  19. Kraft, “Barnabas and the Didache,” 165.
  20. MM (340) lists the aorist active indicative κελεύω + the dative construction rare and list one New Testament example from the Received Greek Text and the King James Version of Matthew 15:35 (κελεύω + dative), whereas, the UBS4 reads παραγγείλας. The sense of urging to the point of a command is reasonable in such cases.
  21. Kirsopp Lake, “Didache,” in The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (Oxford: Clarendon, 1905), 28-29. As will be developed in this paper, Lake observes a noticeable dependence of Did. 8 on Matthew 6 along with variations.
  22. Glimm points out that Matthew 6:9-13 and the Did. 8.2 agree against the parallel passage in Luke 11:2-4 (“The Didache,” 178).
  23. Draper, “Christian Self-Definition,” 632. Milavec has argued convincingly that despite their similarities, they are not enough when considering the influence of orality within the early church; furthermore, the divergences of theological emphases between Matthew and Didache argue against dependence (The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life, 694-739).
  24. Lake, “Didache,” 29.
  25. Lake, “Didache,” 29.
  26. Milavec, The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life, 695-739.
  27. Lake, “Didache,” 27.
  28. Jack P. Lewis, The Gospel According to Matthew (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984), 2:101.
  29. Lewis, Matthew, 2:101-02.
  30. Draper, “Christian Self-Definition,” 374.
  31. Aaron Milavec, The Didache: Text, Translation, Analysis, and Commentary (Collegeville: Liturgical, 2003), 66.
  32. Milavec, The Didache: Text, 65.
  33. Milavec, 66.
  34. Milavec, 66.
  35. Milavec, 66.
  36. Milavec, 66.
  37. Lake, “Didache,” 29.
  38. Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 2d ed. (Germany: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2001), 13-14.

Selected Bibliography

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, F. W. Danker, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Draper, Jonathan A. “Christian Self-Definition Against the ‘Hypocrites’ in Didache 8.” Society of Biblical Literature 1992 Seminar Papers 31. Edited by Eugene H. Lovering, Jr. Atlanta, GA: Scholars, 1992.

Glimm, Francis X. Translator. “The Didache or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles.” Pages 165-84 in vol. 1 of The Fathers of the Church: A New Translation. Edited by R. Joseph Deferrari. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1969.

Holmes, Michael W. Editor. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. Revised edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2004.

_____. “Didache, The.” Pages 300-02 in Dictionary of the Later New Testament and Its Development. Edited by Ralph P. Martin and Peter H. Davids. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1997.

Jefford, Clayton N., Kenneth J. Harder, and Louis D. Amezaga. Reading the Apostolic Fathers: An Introduction. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2003.

Kraft, Robert A. “Barnabas and the Didache.” In vol. 3 of The Apostolic Fathers: A New Translation and Commentary. Edited by Robert M. Grant. New York: Nelson, 1965.

_____. “Didache.” Anchor Bible Dictionary. Vol. 2. Edited by David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Lake, Kirsopp. The Apostolic Fathers. Vol. 1. LCL. Edited by E. Capps, T. E. Page, and W. H. D. Rouse. London: Heinemann, 1919.

_____. “Didache.” Pages 24-36 in The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers. Oxford: Clarendon, 1905.

Lewis, Jack P. The Gospel According to Matthew. Vol. 1. LWCNT 2. Edited by Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984.

Metzger, Bruce M. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament. 2d edition. Germany: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2001.

Milavec, Aaron. The Didache: Faith, Hope, and Life of the Earliest Christian Communities, 50-70 C.E. New York: Newman, 2003.

_____. The Didache: Text, Translation, Analysis, and Commentary. Collegeville: Liturgical, 2003.

(MM) Moulton, James H., and George Milligan. Vocabulary of the Greek Testament. 1930. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1997.

(UBS4) Aland, Barbara, et al. Editors. Greek New Testament. 4th revised edition. Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2001.