In August of 1790, the Hebrew Congregation of Newport, Rhode Island, received George Washington's justly famous letter on religious liberty. Responding to the Jews' congratulations on his presidency, Washington offered a concise but stirring enunciation of the novelty of American liberty: The Citizens of the United States of America have a right to applaud themselves for having given to mankind examples of an enlarged and liberal policy: a policy worthy of imitation. All possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship. It is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people, that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights. For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.George Washington, Writings (ed. John H. Rhodehamel; New York: Library of America, 1997) 766. Washington drew a sharp distinction between toleration and liberty. Toleration implies the “indulgence of one class of people” toward another. It implies that a majority (or, alternatively, those who hold the balance of power in a polity) gives a minority (or a politically powerless group) the privilege of following their own way of life unmolested. For many centuries, toleration was the best that one could hope for, not just in Europe, but in the Muslim and pagan empires as well. Regimes of toleration, such as the millet system of the Ottomans or the Dutch Republic in the seventeenth century, allowed their subjects a generous latitude of belief and traditional behavior in the interest of civil peace, commercial prosperity, and so on. But “now no more” was toleration to be spoken of. The American experiment introduced a radical project of religious liberty. If toleration was, at best, an expression of enlightened statecraft, religious liberty was to be an expression of moral truth. Toleration was an act of prudence. Liberty was a requirement of conscience, of fixed moral principle. Toleration was grounded in politics, liberty in ethics.

According to Isaiah 45:1, Cyrus is YHWH's anointed, his Messiah: Thus says YHWH to his anointed, to Cyrus whom I took by his right hand. Scholars have long disputed this passage. Many agree with Charles Torrey and argue that all references to Cyrus should be removed as later additions; the prophet himself did not write them.Charles C. Torrey, The Second Isaiah (New York: Scribner's, 1928) 3–52; idem, “Isaiah 41,” HTR 44 (1951) 121–36; James D. Smart, History and Theology in Second Isaiah: A Commentary on Isaiah 35, 40–66 (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1964) 115–34; Jurgen van Oorschot, Von Babel zum Zion (New York: de Gruyter, 1993) 88. Other scholars assert that the name Cyrus is original, but admonish their readers not to interpret the title “anointed” as more than was intended. The act of anointing simply indicates a commission: Cyrus is to perform the office of king.Christopher R. North, The Second Isaiah (Oxford: Clarendon, 1964) 150; Roger N. Whybray, Isaiah 40–66 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975) 104; Karl Elliger, Jesaja 40,1–45,7 (BKAT XI/1; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1978) 492; John D. W. Watts, Isaiah 34–66 (WBC 25; Waco, Tex.: Word Books, 1987) 156; Antti Laato, The Servant of YHWH and Cyrus: A Reinterpretation of the Exilic Messianic Programme in Isaiah 40–55 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1992); idem, A Star is Rising: The Historical Development of the Old Testament Royal Theology and the Rise of the Jewish Messianic Expectations (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997) 173–85; Hugh G. M. Williamson, “The Messianic Texts in Isaiah 1-39,” in King and Messiah in Israel and the Ancient Near East (ed. J. Day; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998) 238–70; Brevard S. Childs, Isaiah (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2000) 353–54. Still others take a third position and assert that references to Cyrus are central to the theory of history presented in the Book of Isaiah.Claus Westermann, Isaiah 40–66 (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969) 10, 159; Gerhard von Rad, Old Testament Theology (trans. D. M. G. Stalker; 2 vols.; United Kingdom: Oliver and Boyd, 1965) 2:238–62; John L. McKenzie, Second Isaiah (AB; Garden City: Doubleday, 1968) lxvi; Antoon Schoors, I Am God Your Saviour: A Form-Critical Study of the Main Genres in Is. XL–LV (VTSup 24; Leiden: Brill, 1973) 270; Rheinhard G. Kratz, Kyros im Deuterojesaja-Buch (Tübingen: Mohr, 1991) 15–17; Peter D. Miscall, Isaiah (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993) 110; Rainer Albertz, A History of Israelite Religion in the Old Testament Period (trans. J. Bowden; 2 vols.; OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1994) 2:414; John N. Oswalt, The Book of Isaiah 40–66 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998) 197. Cyrus is the promised redeemer of the Jews. Yet, even these scholars argue that Cyrus's anointing confers a temporary office, and does not evoke a permanent relationship; Cyrus has not converted to YHWHism, and the title should not be translated “Messiah.”Westermann, Deutero-Isaiah, 160–61; Joseph Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 40–55 (AB; New York: Doubleday, 2002) 248–49. Some do admit that the anointing does mean the end of the Davidic monarchy, however. What God once did through David, he now does through Cyrus.E.g., Westermann, Deutero-Isaiah, 160–61; Watts, Isaiah 34–66, 156.

The seven letters written by Ignatius in the early decades of the second century C.E. offer a fascinating if enigmatic glimpse at the internal life of the churches of western Asia Minor.Helpful introductions to Ignatius are P. Nautin, “Ignatius of Antioch,” in Encyclopedia of the Early Church (ed. Angelo Di Berardino; trans. A. Walford; 2 vols.; New York: Oxford University Press, 1992) 1.404–5, and Christine Trevett, A Study of Ignatius of Antioch in Syria and Asia (Lewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen, 1992). For surveys of Ignatian scholarship, see William R. Schoedel, “Polycarp of Smyrna and Ignatius of Antioch,” ANRW II.27.1 (1993) 272–358 (hereafter “Schoedel, ANRW”), and Charles Munier, “Où en est la question d'Ignace d'Antioche?” ANRW II.27.1 (1993) 359–484. On the date of the letters, see Schoedel, ANRW, 347–49 (“anywhere between A.D. 105 and A.D. 135”) and Munier, “Ignace,” 380 (“entre les années 110–135”). Throughout this essay the translations of Ignatius are drawn from William R. Schoedel, Ignatius of Antioch: A Commentary (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985) (hereafter “Schoedel, Ignatius”). I have used the Greek text edited by Joseph B. Lightfoot, The Apostolic Fathers: Part II, Ignatius and Polycarp (London: Macmillan, 1889–1890; repr., Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1989; 3 vols.) (hereafter “Lightfoot, Ignatius”) which I have verified against F. X. Funk, K. Bihlmeyer, and W. Schneemelcher, Die apostolischen Väter (Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 1970). I have also consulted J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations (ed. and rev. Michael Holmes; Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1992). Note the typographical distinction between the Pauline epistles to the Romans (Romans, Rom) and to the Ephesians (Ephesians, Eph) and the Ignatian epistles To the Romans (Romans, Rom.) and To the Ephesians (Ephesians, Eph.). I assume that in his letters, five of which are addressed to churches in Asia Minor, Ignatius is referring to phenomena that he observed, or heard about, while in Asia Minor. Ignatius condemns various errors and heresies, and pleads with his fellow Christians to maintain unity by accepting the leadership of their bishops. Remarkably brief, florid, and allusive, the letters are frequently obscure; as a result the nature and identification of Ignatius's opponents are much debated in contemporary scholarship.Recent discussion includes Schoedel, ANRW, 301–30; Munier, “Ignace,” 404–7 (on the “judaizers”) and 407–13 (on the “Docetists”); Jerry Sumney, “Those Who ‘Ignorantly Deny Him’: The Opponents of Ignatius of Antioch,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 1 (1993) 345–65; Mark Edwards, “Ignatius, Judaism, and Judaizing,” Eranos 93 (1995) 69–77; Judith Lieu, Image and Reality: The Jews in the World of the Christians in the Second Century (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996) 23–56; Michael Goulder, “Ignatius's ‘Docetists,’” Vigiliae Christianae 53 (1999) 16–30; Wolfram Uebele, ‘Viele Verführer sind in die Welt ausgegangen’: Die Gegner in den Briefen des Ignatius von Antiochien und in den Johannesbriefen (BWANT 151; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2001). Among the much-discussed opponents are the targets of the polemic in To the Philadelphians (6.1–2), in which Ignatius exhorts his flock not to listen to anyone who expounds “Judaism.”

[squf ] Introduction

As the Christian church spread into the Gentile world, one of the most prominent facets of its teaching and of the worship-experience of Christians was their understanding of the Holy Spirit. A great deal has been written during the past century on the Spirit in early Christianity, particularly in association with Paul's letters to the Corinthians. Yet surprisingly little has been done even in the last quarter century either to investigate the pagan conceptual world into which this preaching was introduced—in regard to this topic, that is—or to apply insights from earlier studies. This is true despite an increasing awareness of the importance of studying late Hellenistic and Roman culture for understanding early Gentile Christianity. What was the pre-Christian understanding of by pagan Greek-speakers? What was the shape of their religious conceptions? How did their worldview compare to the Christian message at this point? Aside from short notes in theological dictionaries and a few earlier studies,E.g., Ernest DeWitt Burton, Spirit, Soul and Flesh: The Usage of Pneuma, Psuche, and Sarx in Greek Writings and Translated Works from the Earliest Period to 180 A.D.; and of their Equivalents Ruach, Nephesh, and Basar in the Hebrew Old Testament (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1918); Hermann Kleinknecht, “ in the Greek World,” TDNT 6.334–359; Eberhard Kamlah, “Spirit, Holy Spirit” NIDNTT, 3.689–90; Marie Isaacs, The Concept of Spirit: A Study of Pneuma in Hellenistic Judaism and its Bearing on the New Testament (Heythrop Monographs 1; London: Heythrop College, 1976), though as the title indicates this last work devotes little space to non-Jewish Greek writers, and when it does there is no discussion of the evidence. Isaacs does make a number of comparisons between the Stoic use of and Hellenistic Judaism, depending on secondary works for the former, since the latter is her main focus. Generally overlooked by biblical scholars is Geérard Verbeke, L'Évolution de la Doctrine du Pneuma: du Stoïcisme à S. Augustin (Paris: Descleée de Brouwer, 1945). David Aune also has some useful notes on Greco-Roman prophecy and oracles in Prophecy in Early Christianity and the Ancient Mediterranean World (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1983), though he is not concerned to compare the conception of the Spirit in Christianity to pagan notions of divine intermediaries. The recent study by Franz Dünzl (Pneuma: Funktionen des theologischen Begriffs in frühchristlicher Literatur [JACSup 30; Münster: Aschendorf, 2000]) is concerned only with early patristic usage. one looks in vain in commentaries and monographs for an answer to these questions. Interest generally lies in the influences on Paul and what he thought about the Spirit, or to a lesser extent the postconversion views of his churches, but not their preconversion Gentile conceptions. And since the current trend in Pauline studies is (rightly, in my opinion) to look for the Jewish roots of his thought, there seems little incentive to pursue Greco-Roman notions. Yet the answer to these questions may give some insight into the early Gentile Christians' own understanding and, in addition, shed light on the process of cross-cultural communication of the gospel message in the first century.

Louise A. Breen. Trangressing the Bounds: Subversive Enterprises among the Puritan Elite in Massachusetts, 1630–1692. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. 292 pp. Sargent Bush, Jr., ed. The Correspondence of John Cotton. Chapel Hill & London: The University of North Carolina Press, 2001. 548 pp. Michael P. Winship. Making Heretics: Militant Protestantism and Free Grace in Massachusetts, 1636–1641. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002. 322 pp. In the midst of an entangled “crisis” that appeared to threaten the very being of newly founded Massachusetts, one close observer of the situation in 1636 and 1637 felt that little of substance separated the warring parties: “few could see where the difference was; and indeed it seemed so small, as (if men's affections had not been formerly lienated, when the differences were […] stated as fundamental) they might easily have come to reconciliation.” Other contemporaries painted the crisis in starker colors, invoking, as John Wheelwright did in a fast-day sermon of January 1637, the combat between the forces of Christ and the followers of the Anti-Christ and summoning the “children of God” to “prepare for a spirituall combate” against their enemies.The Journal of John Winthrop, ed. Richard S. Dunn et al. (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1996) 216 ; David D. Hall, ed., The Antinomian Controversy, 1636–1638: A Documentary History (Middletown, Conn.: Wesleyan University Press, 1968) 158–59. By and large, modern historians have sided with Wheelwright in emphasizing the seriousness of the “Antinomian controversy,” as the crisis is conventionally termed. Its modern interpreters disagree, however, on what was at issue and on the relationship of the controversy to the underlying dynamics of the Puritan movement. Two new books by young historians add to this debate in important ways, and a third volume, a scrupulously edited collection of the letters of the Reverend John Cotton, advances our understanding of a minister whose sermons to his Boston congregation helped precipitate the crisis.

[squf ] Jensine Andresen [Ph.D. 1997]

Kālacakra, “The Wheel of Time”

This dissertation investigates Kālacakra, “The Wheel of Time,” a tantric system of multivalent text and elaborate ritual. Utilizing an interdisciplinary methodology, I describe Kālacakra's manifestations in India, Tibet, and the West, focusing on social, psychological, economic, and political factors that have propelled this tradition forward. Fundamentally interested in patterns of cultural and religious transmission, I examine the manner in which potent themes inherent to both textual and ritual Kālacakra—threats of apocalypse, projections of utopia, pronouncements of curse, promises of fulfillment, and the aesthetic resonance of melothesia—have made this tradition adaptable to changing historical and cultural contexts.