SBL Notes, part one

I’ve been going over my notes, expanding them, looking up titles and such, in order to make these notes a bit more useful for you folks who weren’t at these particular sessions that I attended. I hope they’ll be found useful.

The only two sessions I attended were the Function of Apocryphal and Pseudepigraphal Writings in Early Judaism and Early Christianity Consultation, at 9:00-11:30 am and 4:00-6:30 pm Monday 11/19. I took notes of all the talks. Between the two sessions, I was invited as a guest to the lunch of the steering committee, and I’ll describe some of that too. This consultation is particularly fascinating to me, blending as it does several interests of mine all into one: canon, apocrypha/pseudepigrapha, and their usage in early Christianity.

After a brief welcome by Lee Martin McDonald, the morning session began with Craig Evans, presenting “The Pseudepigrapha and the New Testament: The Case of the Acts of the Apostles,” taking the place of the scheduled paper by James Sanders, “Non-Masoretic Literature in Early Judaism and Its Function in the New Testament.” Sanders has recently undergone surgery and was unable to attend, but Evans read some notes from Sanders prior to beginning his paper. Evans’ handout consists of five pages of “Parallels between Acts and the literature of late antiquity” taken from his Ancient Texts for New Testament Studies (Hendrickson, 2005), pp 373-78.

Evans first discussed two particular cases of parallelomania (which term he didn’t use, but I do), positing exact parallels between Acts and the Iliad in Dennis R. MacDonald, Does the New Testament Imitate Homer? Four Cases from the Acts of the Apostles (Yale, 2003), and between Acts and the Aeneid by Marianne Palmer Bonz, The Past as Legacy: Luke-Acts and Ancient Epic (Fortress Press, 2000). [I also took down the name of Gregory Riley, who likewise writes on such mimesis, but neglected to note the import of the name. He’s probably as much in Evans’ sights as MacDonald and Palmer Bonz.] Evans mentioned that the reviews of both works are mixed, but generally negative. He mentioned a lengthy critique by Karl Olav Sandnes, “Imitatio Homeri? an appraisal of Dennis R. MacDonald’s ‘mimesis criticism'” (JBL 124.4 [Winter 2005]: 715-732) who provides helpful bibliographical background. Sandnes concludes, “MacDonald isolates subtle emulation from its advertising context. Subtle and concealed emulation without basis in a broadcast intertextuality cannot make up for slippery comparisons. His reading is fascinating and contributes to a reader-oriented exegesis. But he fails to demonstrate authorial intention while he, in fact, neglects the OT intertextuality that is broadcast in this literature” (p. 732), a point which Evans picks up later. Evans also referenced a review by Luke Timothy Johnson of MacDonald (Theological Studies 66.2 [June 2005]: 489-90), which concludes “M. can claim the Iliad as part of the Hellenistic intertexture for interpreting Luke-Acts, but he fails to show that there is anything uniquely in Acts and Homer that can be explained only by literary imitation. The book fails to convince on its central point, and fails to suggest what difference it might make for any reader of Acts if its central point were correct” (p. 490). Evans echoed the latter point, emphasizing that such potential parallels as suggested by scholars often serve no purpose exegetically, and would have had little impact on any reader unless they were more obvious and involved. This leads him directly to the fascinating counter-example to MacDonald and Palmer Bonz that both the narrative setting of Acts 2 and the text of the quotation there of Joel 3.1-5 (LXX/MT; English 2.28-32) are intertwined in such a way that Joel 3 is then presented as a prophecy of the time of the events depicted in Acts 2, which are likewise presented as the fulfillment of that prophecy, and the wording of the quotation and setting are both subtly adjusted toward making that connection. Thus the explicit or “broadcast intertextuality” (so Sandnes) in this case also indicates the “subtle emulation” (also Sandnes) in this passage. This is a direction that really needs following in Luke-Acts in particular, but also in every other location in the NT with explicit quotations from the OT–investigating the possibility of quite subtle effects on the texts surrounding such quotations, their context influencing and being influenced. A further question raised by Evans is: Do the suggested parallels actually help us understand the text better? If they don’t, knowing the above Joel-Acts example, then those parallels are very likely not there, as they would serve no purpose to either author or reader. (There was no respondent at this point to Evans because of the above-mentioned schedule change.)

Next was James Charlesworth, presenting “The Book of the People from the People of the Book.” His handout consists of a photocopy of photographs of columns VII and VIII of 1QpHab, the Qumran Pesher Habakkuk.

Drawing a point from Polybius’ Histories at the end of Book 12 (28a.8-10), he states, “Misinformed questions contribute to misinformed answers.” That is, in seeking to determine the structure of the “Book,” i.e. the canon, have we actually neglected the input of the people of the book? Charlesworth noted the number of copies of various books found at Qumran and discussed the importance of this more physical aspect of canonical treatment, with special emphasis given to the relatively well-preserved 1QpHab. When the Pesher Habakkuk was authored, the Hasmonean scriptio continua gave a certain latitude to the author of the Pesher to vary word divisions and alter letters in places due to their similarity (e.g., yod and waw). In the Pesher Habakkuk, things like the omission of a waw in order to connect two verses of Habakkuk more closely don’t show a lackadaisical textual criticism (an anachronism, in any case), but rather the value the author of the Pesher places on Habakkuk, in presenting the content in a new, slightly adjusted way which makes the point of his commentary clearer. The author shows by this that though Habakkuk didn’t understand the full import of the text he was writing, the Righteous Teacher does, because the meaning was in fact withheld from Habakkuk and everyone else until the end times. Likewise, the physical care taken in the production of 1QpHab shows the extremely high value of this text for the people who copied it: the raising and selection of the lamb for the skin, the involved preparation of the leather and ink, the careful sewing of the sheets of leather into a long scroll, the precise and careful ruling done so delicately with a very sharp blade, the careful writing with spaces, and especially the correction in different hands. This latter is seen in 1QpHab VII.1, where an אל which had been missed through haplography by the original scribe was inserted supralinearly by a later one in another hand, and in line 3, yet a third hand is seen in this column supralinearly adding ירוץ which had likewise been omitted. This shows they cared enough about this text to actually correct it. These physical characteristics are an important indicator of canonicity, as well, because, as Charlesworth said, “The canonical process is complex, and frequently opaque.” By this, I think, he means that our reconstructions of canonical theory have been repeatedly shown to be inadequate, and the physical realia can provide an anchor and some at least partly objective input into a re-evaluation of the canonical process. It’s an aspect that I’m very interested in, actually.

Andrei Orlov was Charlesworth’s respondent. He suggests the usage of the term “protocanon” to fill the gap between the complete absence of a canon and a fully developed, later, exclusive canon. He also noted that some of the same text-play that Charlesworth noted in Pesher Habakkuk is also present in later midrashim which were certainly written after the establishment of a canon including those texts being played with.

I’ll continue tomorrow.

Seasons

Crocuses and snowdrops wither,
Violets, primroses together,
Fading with the fading Spring
Before a fuller blossoming.

O sweet Summer, pass not soon,
Stay awhile the harvest-moon :
O sweetest Summer, do not go,
For Autumn’s next and next the snow.

When Autumn comes the days are drear,
It is the downfall of the year :
We heed the wind and falling leaf
More than the golden harvest-sheaf.

Dreary Winter come at last :
Come quickly, so be quickly past :
Dusk and sluggish Winter, wane
Till Spring and sunlight dawn again.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
7 December 1853

Loose Canons

Some may recognize the title of this post, a great pun coined by Philip Davies in the title of an article, “Loose Canons: Reflections on the Formation of the Hebrew Bible” (Journal of Hebrew Scriptures volume 1 [1996-97], article 5) which you may read here.

Through being immersed in various apocryphal and pseudepigraphal readings lately, my thoughts on canon have turned again toward the gulf between theory and practice in matters of Biblical canonicity. Recent deeper reading of Eastern Orthodox liturgical texts continue to reveal echoes of, if not allusions to, various “non-canonical” works. Yet there is nothing more canonical in the Eastern Church than the liturgies themselves! In fact, while the full texts of the books themselves may well be authoritatively pronounced non-canonical, or indeed condemned, sometimes the majorities of the stories in them (as in the Protevangelium of James, concerning the details of the life of Mary the mother of Jesus) or even actual excerpts of texts from the books themselves (as in the case of Acts of John) have otherwise come to be accepted into liturgical texts, and therefore are as canonical as they could possibly get. This situation requires a rethinking of the practical application of any concept of canonicity, frankly.

How can a book like the Manichaean Acts of John be condemned by the Seventh Ecumenical Council (“No one is to copy [it]: not only so, but we consider that it deserves to be consigned to the fire.” Acts of Session Five, quoted in Schneemelcher New Testament Apocrypha, 2.156), and yet have its only surviving (and extensive!) excerpts preserved in hagiographical texts for liturgical use, if the several meanings of “canonical” have been adhered to in practice in precisely the Church which condemned it? This exemplifies perfectly the gulf that exists between the theory of canonicity and its practice.

A further example of this gulf is also found in the New Testament by the inclusion of an explicit quotation from the First Book of Enoch in the Letter of Jude. Outside of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, no other Christian community holds 1 Enoch canonical. Yet there it is in Jude, in the New Testament, while books like Esther and numerous others in the universally accepted core of the canon of the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible are not quoted at all. The theoretical mechanism of canonicity is seen here not to reflect the canonical practice of Jude the brother of James and of Jesus! That is, while Jude certainly found this prophecy to be authentic and authoritative, and would’ve thereby included it in a list of authoritative books were we to ask him which books were such, the book was not retained in the Old Testament by the majority of Christians, and would in fact have been almost entirely lost were it not for the Ethiopian Christians. So, even the theoretical rule of New Testament writers’ positive quotations of Biblical books indicating canonicity is not seen as authoritative enough to determine practice (save among the Ethiopians).

Take also into consideration the quite well-known Thirty-ninth Festal Letter of Athanasius of Alexandria. Here he divided the Old and New Testament books into “canonical” and “readable” with those in the latter category being Wisdom of Solomon, Wisdom of Jesus son of Sirach, Esther (!), Judith, Tobit, the Didache, and the Shepherd of Hermas. Yet his instruction had no discernible effect on the Church in Egypt. Both the Chalcedonian and Non-Chalcedonian churches in Egypt include Wisdom, Sirach, Esther, Judith, and Tobit in the Old Testament as fully canonical. Again, theory is trumped by practice.

It appears that it will be necessary to focus on practice in order to really ascertain the limits of what is or is not a canonical text in any given tradition. The Eastern churches, with their elaborate, lengthy liturgies and hymnology, demonstrate a much looser concept of canon in practice than they do even in theory, where their official canons are still the most inclusive among Christian churches, and their hymnography draws on even more works. Alternatively, we might recognize that the theoretical concept of an exclusive canon simply isn’t applicable in these cases, as practice shows that many more materials have been effectively canonical (especially in the sense of adhering to the Canon or Rule of Faith, as I have already described) in practice. The canons are loose! Look out! You might be hit by some stray apocrypha!

Relatedly, I’d like to discuss a way of categorizing writings for the individual Christian reader in recognition of these rather loose canons through the ages and the churches. This involves a triple collection: 1.) the current Biblical canon of the reader’s own tradition; 2.) those books which are not included in the canon of the tradition of the reader, but are included in the canon of other contemporary Christian traditions; and 3.) those orthodox books that are not included in the reader’s current canon or any others’, but which were at some point in history either in theory or practice (that is, appearing in canonical lists, in codices, or in authoritative quotation) included in the canons of various churches and which such books still survive. (It is simply necessary for the intended purpose of this categorization to exclude unorthodox/heretical books; they have their place in the history of Christianity, but not in the personal spiritual development of any continuous tradition.) In keeping with the different possibilities that these categories would include depending upon the reader, these options should simply be labeled My Canon, Our Canon, Their Canon. Such a way of organizing the books not only comfortably integrates the Christian reader into a greater perspective of understanding of the contemporary Christian canonical world, but also into that of ages past, where much more variety existed in Bibles, judging by practice, than effectively does today. A synchronic and diachronic experience of such a threefold widest possible Christian canon can only be a good thing for opening up a reader to the possibilities of internalizing a broader worldview, by reading the Bible of both the “Church Militant” and the “Church Triumphant,” so to speak. This, I think, through the volume of reading involved if nothing else, and the simple fascination with the readings, will impact the reader’s worldview, effectively, hopefully, guiding the reader more into a worldview of a Christian of the ages, something rare and wondrous in these days. Related to this idea of worldview, possibly my favorite article is one by Luke Timothy Johnson, “Imagining the World Scripture Imagines” (Modern Theology 14.2 [April 1988]: 165-180). In brief, he describes how the worldview of not just the authors of Scripture, but the initial hearers and readers of Scripture is something that we need to recover. How better to do this than by immersing ourselves in the Scriptures of those ancient Christians themselves, and in the writings that were produced and written in reflection on them which became so well-received as to themselves become Scriptures. And yet, the three levels which I describe may also serve as a series of psychological safety barriers as well, for none of us would be truly comfortable with associating all these disparate writings with one another as all completely equivalent in value of canonicity. Thus My Canon, the canon of your own hearth; Our Canon, the canon of friends and neighbors; and Their Canon, the canon of the departed, many of whom were people of great faith, and from whom we could learn much.

It’s a thought.

Some further thoughts of mine on the Biblical canon:
On the Biblical Canon
McDonald’s Biblical Canon
Codex Hierosolymitanus Canon List
It’s all canonical fun!
An Enochian memorial?
On the Confusion of “Canon”
Caveat scriptor!
On McDonald’s The Biblical Canon
Regula fidei scriptorumque
Canon(s) or Canonical?
Goodies from The Biblical Canon
(Various of those posts will also include links to other writers’ very interesting thoughts on the Biblical canon.)

I’m rather in love

My copy of A New English Translation of the Septuagint arrived yesterday. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular translation, edited by Albert Pietersma and Benjamin G. Wright, you might want to browse through the website of the translation project, and read, in particular, “To the Reader of NETS”, the introduction to the translation as a whole. The introduction was updated this year, so it differs slightly from the older version from the website, and from the version of the introduction included in the Psalms volume published in 2000 by Albert Pietersma, which is apparently out of print. I’ve been following the project since the appearance of the website a number of years ago. With luck, the commentary series based upon this NETS translation, also described on the website, will proceed apace.

The book itself is very well-made. It’s hardcover, with a “library binding,” and slightly larger than the Psalms volume, yet only about one inch thick. This is due to the use of fine, yet reasonably opaque, “Bible paper.” The text is approximately 10pt, and double-column throughout the Biblical text, with the front matter and introductions to the individual books being single-column. The binding is such that the book lies open flat even very near the front and back covers, in addition to which the inner margins are sufficient that one needn’t hold down the pages to keep text from falling into the gutter. Unfortunately, the other margins are quite small, and will not facilitate annotation. Perhaps a less economical edition in the future will remedy this. I confess that it would be quite nice to have a NETS edition Bible of the same production quality as the leather-bound Oxford NRSV Bibles, which are always exceedingly well made.

Now to the truly extraordinary aspects of this new translation of the Septuagint. Students of the Septuagint will be aware that several of the Biblical books are known in two versions (in whole or in part) in Greek, with the divergent texts being published and annotated in both the Rahlfs handbook edition and in the G

I would love to live to love

If miracles are works of sweet control,
Couldn’t You, Lord Jesus, rearrange
Some elements in me enough to change
The water of indifference in my soul
To something more like wine, to make me whole.
The altered piece I’d play might come off strange
To those around me; still, its worth would hinge
On Your appreciation of the role.
Not theirs. Nor even mine. Yours alone.
But where are Your appraisals brought to light?
And where’s the stuff of miracles : the sight-
Restoring spittle-mud, the fingered gown?
Oh, I would love to live to love, to see.
Sweet Jesus, work a miracle in me.

Christopher FitzGerald.
Sonnets to the Unseen: A Life of Christ. Sonnet 94.

Paradise Besieged

By the grace of God I am a Christian, by my deeds a great sinner, and by my calling a homeless wanderer of humblest origin, roaming from place to place. My possessions consist of a knapsack with dry crusts of bread on my back and in my bosom the Holy Bible. This is all!

It’s a simple thing, this first paragraph of The Way of a Pilgrim, but it led a Jewish friend of mine to convert to Orthodox Christianity, forsake the world for ten years of his life as a fanatical novice monk in a monastery of the Holy Mountain, Mount Athos, and eventually to write of these experiences and more in his book, Paradise Besieged (also at Amazon), his name being Richard John Friedlander.

Alternately funny, sobering, and sublime, his witty musings on monasticism in particular, and on Orthodoxy in general, should be required reading particularly for those starry-eyed converts to Orthodoxy busily memorizing the canons of The Rudder while growing their beards and hair long(er) and affecting an accent. His not too shocking revelation is that monks are human, just like the rest of us, and that monastic life is a different one than ours in the world, but not necessarily a holier one. It is a lifestyle which is less distracting from the cultivation of holiness, arguably, but life on Mount Athos is not the living embodiment of the ninefold ranks of the angelic forces glorifying God continually in an Edenic manicured park in which beatifically smiling monks stroll gravel paths in the evening discussing the Areopagitica. There are wolves on the prowl nightly on the Holy Mountain, feasting on the unwary. Real wolves, with real prey. Likewise, as in the rest of the world, sin exists there, failure and complacency, selfishness and pride. There is no escaping those on this wide earth, however far you may travel. Even so, the monks there experience the divinization of theosis as we do in the world, with saints there as surely as elsewhere, all by the grace of God. Richard brings to mind that we could all do better. At least that’s what leaps to my mind!

Throughout the book are short passages when, turning from the anecdotal, Richard lets slip with the sublime:

When Francis of Assisi said, “It is more important to love than be loved,” I believe he meant this: If you can love unconditionally, then, it won’t matter to you if you are loved in return: In loving, you are loved. You did not love expecting a reward; you experienced love in the giving of love. If your love carries expectations, however, you won’t know you are loved even if you are. The will to survive becomes the need to love. Pretty much the same can be said about understanding: you will experience understanding of yourself only as you attempt to understand others. And if your focus is on understanding others, then it will not matter if they understand you. Will you succeed? The monk prays only to have the desire to have the desire to pray. The inability to love others of their own kind may be one of the reasons so many find their bliss in the love of Christ.

I recommend Richard’s book wholeheartedly. While it may sound at first as though it’s simply a critique of various failings here, there, and everywhere to do with the center of Orthodox monasticism, it succeeds on a deeper level, particularly on reflection. It doesn’t hurt to know him personally as an intelligent, witty, very well-read and entirely urbane gentleman. Keeping that in mind, it’s a memoir examining, in part, the personal shortcomings of a life half a lifetime past, but with lessons for all of us today, particularly as commentary on where we Orthodox too easily permit those shortcomings to take hold and become the routine, or even the goal, thinking all the while that somebody, somewhere else, is holding the line. While those ideal conversations on an evening stroll discussing the Areopagitica may not be a reality now, there’s no reason not to aim for them to be so in some way in our lives. Likewise, our true surrender to transformation by God will usually turn our ideas of what we think He wants from us on their heads, as we’re confronted with His will for our lives not in an abstract and idealized sense, but in a personal and realized way. This is the Incarnation at work in each of us, in the process of theosis, through as simple and as fearsome a thing as Holy Communion. Such lives can have nothing to do with complacency of any kind in any respect. Richard brings this clearly to mind with this book, if I were to have to pin down “the moral of the story.”

So, get a copy, give it a read, let it sink in, and let me know your thoughts, as well. I know several others are currently reading and enjoying it or recently have. The more, the merrier!

Per decem annos

I’ve been tagged.

1977: In the middle of sixth grade, we moved from Ohio, where I’d been in school since first grade with a bunch of great friends, to California, where I knew no one. The weather was an improvement, but the public schooling was not, the Ohio schools being vastly superior at the time. I, a sixth grader, ended up as a tutor to a fifth grade class. The school officials wouldn’t let me transfer to the honors school, because, they said, my having always been in honors classes I instead needed socialization with “normal” students. Welcome to California, the land of fruits and nuts….

1987: This was the second year of my studies at UC Berkeley, in the Near Eastern Studies department, with a Classical Hebrew emphasis (Biblical through Mishnaic), a program run by Jacob Milgrom at the time. I was also a reader (a paper-grader) for Isaac Kikawada, a lecturer, from whom I learned the foundation and many background stories of Ancient Near Eastern scholarship. I was in my second year of both Biblical and Modern Hebrew, and my first year of Akkadian. This may have been the happiest year of my life.

1997: I was two years into doing IT support for the UC Berkeley Library system (which has twenty-odd branch libraries all over the campus). They’re still using the help desk system that I put together for them at that time.

The Oracle of Hystaspes

For a project I’m working on, I needed to look up the Joseph Bidez and Franz Cumont classic Les Mages Hellénisés: Zoroastre Ostanès et Hystaspe d’après la tradition grecque (2 vols. Paris: Société d’Édition “Les Belles Letters”, 1938), specifically for the fragments of the lost Oracle of Hystaspes, which are typically referenced according to their arrangement in this very work. Those interested in apocalyptic writings should find interest in these selections, as they are often referred to, but generally inacessible.

For those who are unfamiliar with it, the Oracle of Hystaspes is a lost pseudepigraphal book, with only one direct quote surviving, but with (perhaps extensive) allusions to it found in several ancient writers, primarily Lactantius. While some would argue the Oracle comes from an authentic Persian and Zoroastrian background, others hold that it was not an authentic work of Persian origin, but one of numerous similar syncretistic Hellenistic texts, which seems most likely, or perhaps even a Jewish-adapted pseudepigraph. The book as a whole is unfortunately lost, so speculation on the details of the character of the original is fruitless. Suffice it to say, the work of Bidez and Cumont has been accepted as indicating all the most likely remnants of the Oracle of Hystaspes, and theirs is the standard numeration of the fragments, all of which are found below in English translation, my own and others’. The numeration of fragments begins with number 6 because numbers 1 through 5 were dedicated to ancient testimonies of the author alone, with no reference to the work itself. The English translations below follow precisely the ellipses given in the Greek and Latin texts. I would’ve translated everything from scratch, but I was feeling lazy. Enjoy!

Continue reading “The Oracle of Hystaspes”

An Alphabet

A is the Alphabet, A at its head ;
     A is an Antelope, agile to run.
B is the Baker Boy bringing his bread,
     Or black Bear and brown Bear, both begging for bun.

C is a Cornflower come with the corn ;
     C is a Cat with a comical look.
D is a dinner which Dahlias adorn ;
     D is a Duchess who dines with a Duke.

E is an elegant eloquent Earl ;
     E is an Egg whence an Eaglet emerges.
F is a Falcon, with feathers to furl ;
     F is a fountain of full foaming surges.

G is the Gander, the Gosling, the Goose ;
     G is a Garnet in girdle of gold.
H is a Heartsense, harmonious of hews ;
     H is a huge Hammer, heavy to hold.

I is an Idler who idles on ice ;
     I am I–who will say I am not I?
J is a Jacinth, a jewel of price ;
     J is a Jay, full of joy in July.

K is a King, or a Kaiser still higher ;
     K is a kitten, or quaint Kangaroo.
L is a Lute or a lovely-toned Lyre ;
     L is a Lily all laden with dew.

M is a Meadow where Meadowsweet blows ;
     M is a mountain made dim by a mist.
N is a nut–in a nutshell it grows–
     Or a Next full of Nightingales singing–oh list !

O is an Opal, with only one spark ;
     O is an Olive, with oil on its skin.
P is a Pony, a pet in a park ;
     P is the Point of a Pen or a Pin.

Q is a Quail, quick-chirping at morn ;
     Q is a Quince quite ripe and near dropping.
R is a Rose, rosy red on a thorn ;
     R is a red-breasted Robin come hopping.

S is a Snow-storm that sweeps o’er the Sea ;
     S is the Song that the swift Swallows sing.
T is the Tea-table set out for Tea ;
     T is a Tiger with terrible spring.

U, the Umbrella, went up in a shower ;
     Or Unit is useful with ten to unite.
V is a Violet veined in the flower ;
     V is a Viper of venemous bite.

W stands for the water-bred Whale–
     Stands for the wonderful Waxwork so gay.
X, or XX, or XXX, is ale,
     Or Policeman X, excercised day after day.

Y is a yellow Yacht, yellow its boat ;
     Y is the Yacca, the Yam, or the Yew.
Z is a Zebra, zigzaggèd his coat,
     Or Zebu, or Zoöphyte, seen at the Zoo.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
circa 1875