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The Early Church: Internal Jewish Migration or New Religion?1

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  10 June 2011

Dieter Georgi
Dieter Georgi
Affiliation:
Johann Wolfgang Goethe-Universität
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Extract

This paper discusses the issue of “Christian” identity customarily defined by its distinctiveness. I wish to start with a biographical observation: The classics school that I entered in April 1939 in Frankfurt am Main was under the same roof as the Jewish high school. This struck me as very peculiar given the propaganda and political activity of the late thirties in Nazi Germany. The Jewish high school was named after Samson Rafael Hirsch, the famous Jewish scholar and rabbi of nineteenth-century Frankfurt. On our side of the building there was nobody who would answer my questions about the school, and before long the object of my boyish inquisitiveness ceased to exist. As part of the German war machine, a military censorship complex took over the Jewish part of the building and closed the Jewish high school. The Jewish students and their teachers disappeared. We, the students of the non-Jewish part of the building, wondered during study breaks where they and the many Jews in the neighborhood of our school had gone. As the yellow star on the clothes of Jewish fellow citizens appeared, it became very obvious to us youngsters that there were fewer and fewer Jewish people around. As the Nazis established a store “for Jews only” at the trolley stop near our school, the pain and hunger of the people with the Star of David showed more and more on their faces. Their number visibly dwindled.

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Research Articles
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Harvard Theological Review , Volume 88 , Issue 1 , January 1995 , pp. 35 - 68
Copyright
Copyright © President and Fellows of Harvard College 1995

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References

2 See Matt 23: 13–36. Throughout this article, the English translations of biblical texts are my own.

3 Seven times in Ignatius: 2 Eph. 11.2; 14.2; Magn. 4.1; Trail. 6.1; Rom. 3.2–3; Poly. 7.3.

4 Four times in Ignatius: Magn. 10.1, 3; Rom. 3.3; Phld. 6.1.

5 Tacitus Annales 15.44.

6 Pliny Epistles 10.96–97.

7 Suetonius Nero 16.2; in Vita Claudii 25.4, the formulation is merely “Judaeos impulsore Chresto.”

8 The provenance of Luke and his tradition, as well as Ignatius, spans Antioch and Western Asia Minor; the Didache comes from east of Antioch; 1 Peter spans Rome and Asia Minor; the three Romans represent Rome and Asia Minor.

9 Such as the Gospels of the Nazarenes, Ebionites, Hebrews, Egyptians and the Kerygmata Petrou, all of them in Schneemelcher, Wilhelm, New Testament Apocrypha (2 vols.; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1991)Google Scholar.

10 Prior to the middle of the second century CE when apologists like Justin also picked up the term. An exception is Basilides, in the early second century, in Clem. Alex. Strom. 4.12 who is dependent on 1 Pet 4:16.

11 Such as Acts 9:32, 41; 26:10; Rom 1:7; 15:25–26, 31; 16:2, 15; 1 Cor 1:2; 16:1; 2 Cor 1:1; 8:4; 9:1, 12; Phil 1:1; Col 1:2; Eph 1:1.

12 For example, Rom 8:33; Mark 13:20, 22, 27; Matt 22:14; Luke 18:7; 1 Pet 1; 2:9.

13 Matt 13:43, 49; Rom 5:19; 1 Pet 3:12.

14 Gal 2:10; Rom 15:26.

15 See Schrage, Wolfgang, “Ἐκκλησία und Συναϒωϒή: Zum Ursprung des urchristlichen Kirchenbegriffs,” ZTh K 60 (1963) 180–86Google Scholar; and idem, “συναϒωϒή,” TDNT1 (1971) 798–841. Initially I followed Schrage in his argument, but later I had second thoughts about the alleged anti-Jewish contrast associated with the choice of the term. On my criticism of Schrage, see my book, Theocracy in Paul's Praxis and Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991) 57 n. 70Google Scholar.

16 As in the conflict between Paul and Demetrius in Acts 19:23–40.

17 This competition was not with the synagogue, but with the pagan political establishment. The constitutional agreement of the Jerusalem conference that Paul reports in Gal 2:8–10 left room for Jews like James, John, and Peter to continue to live under the laws of the Torah; why not also under the rules of the Pharisees or Essenes? These Jews certainly would continue to attend the sabbath services in the synagogue. The first reference to the origin of Sunday as the day of the weekly community worship of Jesus as Christ in 1 Cor 16:2 speaks of it as, “the first day of the week”; yet this Greek epistle to a congregation consisting largely of pagans does not define week as έβδομάς but as σάββατον, that is, in a Jewish fashion from its last day, the sabbath. Even for the pagan members of the Corinthian congregation the week was the period between two sabbath days. The conclusion is obvious: having the Christ-worship on Sunday allows for worship in the synagogue on the sabbath while still allowing those who confess the Christ to have a common worship service on Sunday. Lukas Bormann pointed me to Gos. Thom. 27b: “If you do not keep the sabbath (as) sabbath, you will not see the father.”

18 Acts 2:23; 3:15; 5:30; 10:39. The present version of 1 Thess 2: 14–16 has Paul speak of the death of Jesus without mentioning the cross, making the Jews at large completely responsible for Jesus' death. Pearson, Birger (“1 Thessalonians 2:13–16, A Deutero-Pauline Interpolation,” HTR 64 [1971] 79–94CrossRefGoogle Scholar) has convincingly shown that this passage in 1 Thessalonians is a late emendation to the letter, clearly not Pauline. The fact that Paul elsewhere emphasizes the crucifixion and the cross of Jesus proves that he knew who killed Jesus.

19 Particularly Acts 6:11. In Luke's subsequent narration this accusation is no longer discussed. It is replaced by the allegation echoing the false accusation against Jesus from the legendary tradition about the Jesus trial (6:19). Luke's narrative in Acts 6 and 7 ends with the report of an alleged lynching. Contrary to the story of Paul's arrest in Jerusalem in Acts 21:27–36, the Roman forces in the temple do not interfere with the mob that stones Stephen. Why do the Romans not rescue Stephen but do rescue Paul later? The Sanhedrin was located within the temple precinct and thus within the sacred territory in which the Romans granted the Jews full judicial authority. Does this difference in Luke's portrayal of the attitude of the Roman guard between Acts 6–7 and Acts 21 indicate varying legal situations in Luke's time? Paul's Roman citizenship cannot explain the different behavior since the commander of the Roman guard in Acts 21:27–36 could not have known about it. On the location of the Sanhedrin, see Schürer, Emil, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (ed. Vermes, Geza, et al.; 3 vols; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1973–87) 2. 223–24Google Scholar.

The frequent claim that Jewish authorities in Jerusalem had no right to enact capital punishment in religious matters prior to the first Jewish war is heavily dependent on tendentious texts from Christian sources. These texts are interested in whitewashing the Romans and denouncing the Jews. It is interesting that Paul's statement that he was once a victim of stoning (2 Cor 11:25) is almost never mentioned in the innumerable studies on the presence or absence of the Jewish right to perform the death penalty. Yet Paul refers to being stoned when he lists judicial punishments he has experienced. That he survived the deadly treatment does not disprove the validity of this evidence.

20 Acts 8:1, 4; in contrast to the twelve disciples and their circle.

21 “Der vorpaulinische Hymnus Phil 2, 6–11,” in Dinkier, Erich and Thyen, Hartwig eds., Zeit und Geschichte: Dankesgabe an Rudolf Bultmann zum 80. Geburtstag (Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1964) 263–93Google Scholar.

22 1QpHab 1, 13; 2, 1–2; 5, 9–12; 7, 3–5; 8, 1–3; 9, 9–10; 11, 4–6; CD 1, 11–12; 6, 11; 20, 32.

23 See also the use of Deut 21:23 and 27:26 in Paul's description of the meaning of Jesus' crucifixion: it entails the category of curse (Gal 3:13).

24 The contradictory use of the figure of Enoch in these two different texts is an illustration of essential contradictions in the development of biblical traditions. According to Gen 4:17–18 (Yahwist), the figure of Enoch is an offspring of the murderer Cain and thus bears a negative slant. According to Gen 5:18–24 (priestly code), Enoch comes from the line of Seth and is portrayed in a positive light; his rapture to the heavenly world is seen as a divine reward. Faced with combined but contradictory traditions, later Jewish readers and exegetes made sense out of that combination in various ways.

25 I Enoch 70; Mowinckel, Sigmund, He that Cometh (trans. Anderson, G. W.; Oxford: Blackwell, 1959) 441Google Scholar.

26 I Enoch 71; this chapter amends the previous chapter and interprets it in a more radical manner. (For a slightly different interpretation of the relationship of these chapters, see Gruenwald, Ithamar, Apocalyptic and Merkavah Mysticism [AGJU 14; Leiden: Brill, 1980] 42–43Google Scholar.) Mowinckel's attempt (He that Cometh) to make the message of both chapters parallel and have them say that Enoch is exalted to be with the Son of Man, not identical with the Son of Man, is artificial apologetics. This is particularly true with respect to I Enoch 71.14 where Mowinckel wants to read “Son of Man” apart from its context—not as the heavenly preexistent being but as a circumlocution of human (ibid., 362 n. 1). It is a similarly apologetic approach to exclude this verse as a later gloss. The “Thou art the Son of Man” identifies Enoch with the semi-divine figure of the Son of Man, co-enthroned with God. This is underlined by v. 16 where the attributes given to Enoch are modeled after the terminology of divine praise in the Bible.

27 13 Enoch is a relatively late document. To a high degree, however, it is a compilation of much older traditions. On the character and meaning of Metatron, see in particular Saul Lieberman, in an appendix to Gruenwald, Apocalyptic, 234–41. Gruenwald himself deals with 3 Enoch (pp. 191–208) and the elevation of Enoch/Metatron (pp. 196–200, 203–6). Gruenwald denies that the identification of Enoch with Metatron is a deification. See further, Schäfer, Peter (Der verborgene und offenbare Gott: Hauptthemen der frühen jüdischen Mystik [Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1991])Google Scholar, who comments on all Meṭaṭron passages in hekhalot literature (see index under Meṭaṭron); he deals with 3 Enoch (pp. 120–21; 126–29) and gives a summary of Meṭaṭron in hekhalot mysticism (pp. 136–38; 142–44). Gruenwald and Schäfer both stress the magical dimension of the hekhalot texts. Gruenwald also suggests this for apocalyptic predecessors of the hekhalot texts. That gnostic texts have a leaning toward magic is well known. In my opinion the references to Meṭaṭron in hekhalot literature repeatedly tend to blur the line between Metatron and God.

28 This is evident particularly in the discussion about whether and where Metatron sits. The right—even the possibility—of sitting was not given to the angels but only to God and humans. Gruenwald (Apocalyptic, 66–67, 90) discusses the relevant rabbinical texts; see also Schafer, Der verborgene Gott, 127 n. 20.

29 See 3 Enoch 12.5; see also, Lieberman, in Gruenwald, Apocalyptic, 197–98, 236; and Schafer, Der verborgene Gott, 127. This identification is not elaborated further in 3 Enoch, and this entire verse appears to be rather isolated; it probably is a much earlier tradition. This view is supported by the rabbinic anxiety about the misuse of the Tetragrammaton, which increased tremendously by the time of 3 Enoch. Therefore, it is difficult to imagine that one would have dared to create such an identification in rabbinic circles of the period. 3 Enoch 12.5 abbreviates the Tetragrammaton, which is probably the older form of the divine name. Since the authors of 3 Enoch 12.5, and other hekhalot texts and their apocalyptic predecessors, showed an interest in magical texts, I presume that they were familiar with the use of ΙΑΩ and other names of God in popular Jewish magic, magical texts, and gems. Some of these texts are mentioned in Freedman, David Noel and O'Connor, P., “JHWH,” Th WAT 3 (1982) 533–54Google Scholar, esp. 541–42; and further literature cited there. A full presentation of the material up to his time is given by Ganschinietz, Ryszard, “Iao,” PW 17 (1914) 698–721Google Scholar. The relevance of popular Jewish magic for our understanding of Judaism, Gnosticism and Christianity has not been sufficiently studied yet.

30 He does this in fulfillment of his claim in 1 Cor 9:20 that he “became a Jew to Jews, to those under the law like one under the law.… to those without the law like one without the law.”

31 Jer 7:11; Matt 21:13.

32 See, for example, 1 Mace 1:11–15; 2 Maccabees 4 and 5.

33 Clearly presupposed in 2 Maccabees 4 and 5.

34 Josephus Bell. 2.261–63.

35 Josephus Bell. 1.33; 7.427–32; Ant. 13.65–73.

36 On the Essenes see first of all the Qumran documents, which most scholars understand as the reflection of the thought and practice of the central community of the Essenes. See further Philo Quod omnis probus 80, 84, 86; and Hypothetica 11.5; and Josephus Bell. 2.119–66; Ant. 8.171–73; 18.11–25. In the texts from the Dead Sea, the priestly origin and protest against the high priest in Jerusalem is clearest. There is also a report on the Essenes in Pliny the Elder Naturalis Historia 5.15; 73. See the survey in Schurer, History, 2. 555–90.

37 On the Sadducees see Schürer, History, 2. 404–41; on the Essenes, see above p. 48 and n. 36; on the Pharisees, see below p. 52. On the Jewish parties, see also Stegemann, Hartmut, Die Essener, Qumran, Johannes der Ta'ufer und Jesus (2d ed.; Freiburg: Herder, 1993) esp. 198–271Google Scholar.

38 On the various branches of the biblical Jewish wisdom movement see Georgi, Theocracy, 3–16.

39 In the famous wisdom hymn in chapter 24, Jesus b. Sirach has the “I” of heavenly wisdom go over easily into the “I” of the teacher of wisdom. Only a second look reveals that the person at the end of the hymn is a different one (the wisdom teacher Jesus b. Sirach in particular), distinguished from the person speaking before (heavenly wisdom). Some branches of the early church later apply this mode of speech and identification to Jesus. See below p. 57; also see Matt 11:25–30, depending on the tradition behind Sir 6:23–28.

40 This is first of all a literary phenomenon, originally a massive production of literature, today surviving only fragmentarily. Although the voluminous output of Philo and Josephus was among this literature, even their work is not completely preserved. This literature presents Jewish issues and material in dialogue with questions, criteria, and themes of the surrounding culture. Currently, there is a debate whether this literature is exclusively by and for Jews, for internal consumption of the Jewish community, or whether it reflects an active, indeed persuasive dialogue with the pagan world as well. If the latter is true, it is more than a literary phenomenon; it is a reflection of the double role of the Diaspora synagogues that communicated not only to Jews but consciously also to non-Jews. This was the basis for successful missionizing and integrative activity in the Hellenistic world.

I side with the latter opinion. I give the evidence and argument and an elaborate description of this actively propagandizing branch of the Israelite-Jewish wisdom movement in my book, The Opponents of Paul in 2 Corinthians (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986) 83–151Google Scholar, and in my study. Theocracy, 12–16; 81–82. See also the discussion on Jewish and other missionary propaganda in the essays collected by Fiorenza, Elisabeth Schüssler, ed., Aspects of Religious Propaganda in Judaism and Early Christianity (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1976)Google Scholar. This volume discusses propaganda and mission on a much wider cultural and societal scale. In this collection of essays and later, Louis Feldman provides further material and arguments for the existence and nature of an active and successful Jewish mission in New Testament times. See his most recent study, Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World: Attitudes and Interactions from Alexander to Justinian (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993)Google Scholar and studies cited there.

41 Recently, there have been objections to the claim that there was a successful Jewish mission. They revive the old opinion that Judaism in New Testament times spread mainly by biological propagation and migration. Thomas Kraabel, Shaye Cohen, and Scot McKnight in particular again argue for the absence of any active Jewish mission in New Testament times (see the bibliographical references in Kraabel, Thomas, “Immigrants, Exiles, Expatriates, and Missionaries,” in Bormann, Lukas, et al. , eds., Religious Propaganda and Missionary Competition in the New Testament World [Leiden: Brill, 1994]) 71–88Google Scholar. If one applied the line of argumentation of these scholars against an active Jewish mission to our evidence for an active “Christian” mission, there would be little if any direct evidence for an aggressive Christian mission prior to Constantine. The only direct evidence is Paul's writings, the Acts of Luke, the fact that “Christians” are increasingly mentioned in non-Christian texts, and the growing corpus of “Christian” literature. Luke's rather ideological and manipulative description of the early church has to be read with great caution. Paul remains our only evidence for a consciously active mission, but he was definitely not a “Christian” but rather a Jew.

Scholars who maintain that “Christian” missionaries could not and would not draw on Jewish practice and experience of missionizing depend on the assumption that “Christian” mission started out of nothing. It would have started from nothing; yet as a fully-fledged missionary organization, at once able to reach beyond its borders, multiply, and build stable infrastructures, although unprepared and untrained, it was a complete success story. Thus clusters of truly Lukan miracles replace scholarly analysis and explanation.

Why overlook the fact that Israel already had actively looked beyond its borders? For example: the creation story in Genesis I gave the history of Israel that followed a universal touch; Israel put a convert, Abraham, at the beginning of its history (Genesis 12); he exchanged with foreign kings (Genesis 14). The Joseph story (Genesis 37–47) makes the Pharaoh an admirer of Israel (esp. Genesis 39–41). The vision of the future pilgrimage of the nations to Jerusalem means a distant eschatological moment (see Isa 25:6–9 or Zech 8:20–21), but it is also a closer reality in trito-Isaiah (Isaiah 60). Isa 56:6–7 speaks of the full cultic integration of foreigners, and one can see an active mission in Isa 66:19–21. Trito-Isaiah presupposes the realized eschatology of deutero-Isaiah, particularly of the servant of the Lord who is a light to the nations (Isa 42:6; 49:6; 51:4). One could speak of the Naaman story in 2 Kings 5, of the legends about Daniel at the court of Nebuchadnezzar and so on. Most of all, however, the book of Jonah clearly advocates active Jewish propaganda among Gentiles. See von Nordheim, Eckhard, “Das Buch Jona und die Anfänge der hellenistisch-jüdischen Mission,” in Mayer, Cornelius, Müller, Karlheinz, and Schmalenberg, Gerhard, eds., Nach den Anfängen fragen (Gießen: Fachbereich Evangelische Theologie und Katholische Theologie der Universität Gießen, 1994) 441–60Google Scholar.

All of this and much more speaks for active universalism among Israelites and Jews, even beyond Jewish wisdom literature. This universalist ethos was unequaled anywhere in the ancient world—although not undisputed or uniform within Israel and Judaism. This ethos laid the groundwork for the missionizing motivation and experimentation. It was not expansionistic in an ethnic, or even less, in a colonialist or imperialist fashion. In fact, the ethnic spread of Judaism did not have positive theoretical underpinnings; the concept of divine judgment explained this physical distribution during the Diaspora.

The universalist ethos first addressed insiders, in order to open them up to the outsiders. Philo addresses these outsiders in a propagandistic speech to the Caesar (the Legatio ad Gaium reflects actual occurrences), and Josephus writes propagandistic literature for non-Jews with an imperial stipend. After his call at Damascus, Paul did not need any contact with Jesus believers but immediately became an active missionary. It makes sense that he had learned all he needed to know about mission during his time in the Diaspora synagogue at Damascus.

I shall present a more elaborate argument against my critics in a later essay. There I shall also discuss the important inscription of Aphrodisias which Kraabel uses in his article noted at the beginning of this note. In my opinion, this inscription gives further proof of the existence of a Jewish mission and its success.

42 On the Wisdom of Solomon and its relationship to Gnosticism, see my annotated translation of the Wisdom of Solomon into German in Kümmel, Werner Georg, ed., Jüdische Schriften (5 vols.; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1980) 3. 4.391–478Google Scholar. See also my essay, “Das Wesen der Weisheit nach der ‘Weisheit Salomos’,” in Taubes, Jacob, ed., Gnosis und Politik (Religionstheorie und Politische Theologie 2; Munich: Fink, 1984) 66–81, esp. 90–91Google Scholar.

43 Michael Edward Stone presents a somewhat different view in his commentary, Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990)Google Scholar.

44 Davies, William David, The Setting of the Sermon on the Mount (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1964)Google Scholar; idem, The Sermon on the Mount (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1966) 1–32.

45 That the restoration process in Palestine after the Jewish catastrophe and total victory of Roman power could have proceeded without the knowledge and tolerance of the Romans is impossible. Any measures of self-governance needed their initial approval and continuous authorization. Cooperation with the Romans, therefore, was an absolute necessity for whomever gained self-governing dominance. For example, the transfer of Josephus's prediction of Vespasian's rise to imperial office (Bell. 3.399–408) to the legendary tradition about Yoḥanan b. Zakkai (Midrash Lam. 1.5) reflects this readiness to cooperate. This proves the origin of the postwar development of the pharisaic-rabbinic tradition as having been under Roman auspices. This is supported by the reference in b. Giṭ. 56b, where Vespasian allows Yoḥanan to ask for a favor and the rabbi asks for Yavneh/Jamnia and its scholars, and for the members of the family of R. Gamaliel. It is doubtful that the incident happened in exactly this way, but a chauvinistic attitude toward the Romans would not have helped the development of the pharisaic-rabbinic position. It should not be overlooked that the success of the pharisaic rabbis occurred in an imperial city; Yavneh/Jamnia was the private property of the Princeps since Salome turned it over to Augustus's wife Livia (Josephus Ant. 18.31, 158).

46 The lack of historical differentiation and the resulting confusion with respect to the Gospel of Matthew and its contemporary Jewish setting shows, for example, in the most recent commentary on the Gospel of Matthew by Ulrich Luz (Das Evangelium nach Matthaeus [EKKNT 1; Zurich: Benziger and Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1985]). In his introduction Luz elaborates on the theme “Matthew and Judaism” by opposing Gemeinde (“congregation,” “community”) and Synagoge (“synagogue”), both tellingly in the singular (p. 70–72). Luz begins by speaking about the Matthean congregation or community, but already by the next sentence the picture appears enlarged: “Der Bruch zwischen Gemeinde und Synagoge ist endgültig” (“The breach between congregation and synagogue is final”). The synagogue as a singular uniform entity is a dogmatic Christian construct with no historical base or reference, neither in Matthew nor elsewhere in the New Testament, let alone in Judaism at large. The same applies to Gemeinde. Already in the Gospel of Matthew it is obvious that there isa variety of Jesus-oriented communities, not only numerous but also various in makeup. The comparison between the commissions of the disciples in Matthew 10 and Matthew 28 shows a strong contrast between particularistic and universalistic tendencies that are definitely not reconcilable by way of historical differentiation between a particularistic past and a universalistic present. These were contemporary options.

Luz holds that Matthew no longer communicates with the people of Israel (p. 71). This is contrary to the whole makeup of Matthew, the argumentation and polemics of which are not recordings of a historical past but actual communication with Jewish contemporaries who are trying to restore Judaism after the catastrophe of the first Jewish war. Matthew is a Jesus-oriented contribution to the fierce debate in Judaism after the Jewish war over its reconstruction. Matthew stands in close competition with the pharisaic restoration program. Luz's reference to the fact that the synod of Yavneh/Jamnia never occurred does not prove anything (p. 71 n. 169), because the competitive debate about the proper restoration of Judaism is an indisputable fact.

47 See Georgi, Opponents, 93–94; 175–77.

48 Josef Gutmann (“Art, Early Jewish,” IDBSup, 68–71) states in the first paragraph of his article: “Recent archaeological discoveries have occasioned no little surprise among scholars who had assumed that a rigid iconoclasm was normative for rabbinic Judaism during the early Christian period. In reality, no uniform, unchanging attitude toward images has prevailed throughout Jewish history. Rather, divergent positions toward and varying interpretations of the permissibility of images have been expressed by religious authorities in every age.”

49 Hanfmann, Georg M. A., Sardis from Prehistoric to Roman Times: Results of the Archaeological Exploration of Sardis, 1958–1975 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1983)Google Scholar.

50 On the question of the number of synagogues in Jerusalem see Schürer, History, 2. 445.

51 Philo Legatio ad Gaium 132–33.

52 Schürer, History, 3. 141.

53 Rome was particularly impressive in this respect because there are at least ten synagogues attested from antiquity (see Schürer, History, 3. 96–98), maybe even fourteen (see Grant, Robert M., “Rome, city of,” IDB 4 [1985] 127Google Scholar).

54 CII 2.781.

55 On the Samaritans, see James D. Purvis, “Samaritans,” IDBSup 776–77.

56 On the Therapeutae, see Schürer, History, 2. 591–97; I am doubtful about Schürer's assumption that the Therapeutae were the “Egyptian branch of the Palestinian Essene movement” (p. 597).

57 Charles, Robert Henry, ed., The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament in English (Oxford: Clarendon, 1913)Google Scholar.

58 Charlesworth, James H., ed., The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (2 vols.; Garden City: Doubleday, 1983–85)Google Scholar.

59 Rießler, Paul, Altjüdisches Schrifttum auβerhalb der Bibel (Augsburg: Filser, 1928)Google Scholar.

60 Kümmel, Werner Georg et al. , eds., Jüdische Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit (Gütersloh: Mohn, 1973–)Google Scholar.

61 Easily available in the edition of James Robinson, ed., The Nag Hammadi Library in English (3d ed.; San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1990). I have dealt with some of that Jewishgnostic literature, especially the Apocalypse of Adam (Theocracy, 41–43).

62 The understanding of the relationship of Jesus and wisdom in the early church could range from the idea of inspiration over various concepts of incorporation, for instance as in the case of Jesus b. Sirach (see above n. 39), to the complete identification of a preexistent Jesus with heavenly wisdom herself.

63 See above n. 21.

64 Matt 23:35, 37 and Acts 7:52 present summary statements that comprise Jewish experience and represent a Jewish polemical practice. See Steck, Odil Hannes, Israel und das gewaltsame Geschick der Propheten: Untersuchungen zur Überlieferung des deuteronomistischen Geschichtsbildes im Alten Testament, Spätjudentum und Urchristentum (WMANT 23; Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1967) esp. 26–50Google Scholar; 256–69.

65 Acts 6:11.

66 Unless one unjustifiably ascribes such criticism of the law to Jesus as is done in much of life-of-Jesus theology, this position usually assumes that the church forgot this criticism between Easter and Paul's call as apostle.

67 See also Wis 14:16.

68 Wis 1:16; although the term law itself does not directly appear, covenantal terminology is used here.

69 The Apocalypse of Adam often speaks of the will and commandments of the demiurge as fettering rules; see, for example, 74.14–20.

70 De Migratione Abrahami 89–90.

71 Gal 2:11–14; during the subsequent report of his speech, Paul clearly transcends the boundaries of that given time and approaches the actual problems of the situation of the letter.

72 Josephus, Ant. 20.24–42.

73 Ibid., 43–48.

74 This comes out clearly in Gal 4:1–11.

75 I have dealt with this in Theocracy, 43–45.

76 In Theocracy, 36 n.10, I show that the usual translation of the Greek term πίστις in Paul as “faith” does not agree with the meaning of the word in most contexts. “Loyalty” or “trust” are better translations; here at the end of Romans 3 it is “loyalty.”

77 Deuteronomy 6 stands as an example of the whole book's message that the God-given law is a demonstration of God's active covenant sealing God's liberating action, constructive solidarity, and calls for gratefully loving obedience.

78 Ps 103, 106, and 108, for example, give ample illustration of the praise for God's covenantal grace; this grace applies to the people as well as to the single member of the covenant community. The community experienced covenantal grace in their collective and personal history.

79 1QH 4, 35–37.

80 1QH 11, 11–14.

81 Brooten, Bernadette, Women Leaders in the Ancient Synagogue (BJS 36; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1982)Google Scholar.

82 See Georgi, Opponents, 169.

83 See my essay, “Socioeconomic Reasons for the ‘Divine Man’ as a Propagandistic Pattern,” in Schüssler Fiorenza, Aspects, 27–42; and Georgi, Opponents, 390–422. The Hellenistic-Roman society was also oriented around competition and achievement.

84 On the concept of the “divine man,” see the indices under “divine man” and θεῖος ἀνήρ in Georgi, Opponents.

85 The most direct and reliable evidence for organizational features is in 1 Corinthians 14. Several inferences can be drawn from addresses and greetings and from many exhortatory passages of Paul's letters, but also from more dogmatic texts like Romans 6. The descriptions of church organization and church life in Acts are less reliable but yield information for critical scrutiny. This is true also for texts of communal exhortation in the gospels, in the non-Pauline epistles and in the Book of Revelation.

86 In an appendix to the new edition of my book Die Geschichte der Kollekte des Paulus für Jerusalem (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1994)Google Scholar, I have shown that the gospel tradition and Acts indirectly testify to the early leading role of women in the Jesus community in Jerusalem, and to a later successful conspiracy and rebellion of Peter and the other twelve against that leadership (pp. 108–16).

87 I Corinthians demonstrates how quickly male powers could pull the strings again. Still, the breadth of experimentation apparent in the Pauline and related correspondence proves the existence of certain tendencies toward democratization both in practice and in theory.

88 The opponents proved their liberty through their ethical liberality and sovereignty (1 Corinthians 5 and 7), through their neglect of the biblical injunctions against idolatry (1 Corinthians 8 and 10), and through their free attitudes toward spiritual conduct (1 Corinthians 11, 12, and 14).

89 On the further development of the interplay of the concepts of the divine man and those of tradition and canon, see Georgi, Opponents, 390–450; and idem, “Records of Jesus.” See also idem, “Die Aristoteles-und Theophrastausgabe des Andronikus von Rhodus: Ein Beitrag zur Kanonsproblematik,” in Rüdiger Bartelmus, Thomas Krüger, Helmut Utzschneider, eds., Konsequente Traditionsgeschichte (OBO 126; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993) 45–78.

90 Lukas Bormann, “Die Verrechtlichung der frühesten christlichen Überlieferung im lukanischen Schrifttum,” in Bormann, Religious Propaganda, 283–311.

91 See above p. 42.

92 Obviously, this question implies a complete reversal of John 8:44. It presupposes the extreme change of times, situations, and conditions since the origins of that text and draws the consequences. John 8:44 was written by a Jew defending a Jewish minority group against the Jewish majority. Later a Gentile Christian majority made this statement its own, using it as an excuse to disown the Jews, to persecute, and to exterminate them. There is even some reason to presume that in the first century CE, Ιουδαῖοι had not yet completely lost its original meaning “Judeans,” the inhabitants of the region of Judea, the temple state of old, as distinct from “Galileans.” It seems not to have turned entirely into the general term denoting Jews all over the world.

93 See Georgi, Dieter, “Das Unbehagen mit dem Juden Paulus,” in Licharz, Werner, ed., Nicht Du trägst die Wurzel—die Wurzel trägt Dich (Arnoldshainer Texte 30; Frankfurt am Main: Haag & Herchen, 1985) 78–95Google Scholar.