2013.05.08 | Stuart Weeks. Ecclesiastes and Scepticism. Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 541. New York: T&T Clark, 2012. Pp. xiv+219. Hard cover. ISBN 978-0-567-25288-3.

Review by Larisa Levicheva, Wesley Seminary, Indiana Wesleyan University.

Many thanks to Bloomsbury for kindly providing us with a review copy.

This book consists of five chapters with an introduction, a chapter with concluding remarks and an appendix which presents an in-depth study of the name “Qoheleth.” The Introduction outlines the following chapters and lays down the assumptions which guide Weeks’ study. Weeks offers a different reading of the book of Ecclesiastes which presents Qoheleth’s thoughts as personal grievance over the impotence of intellectual accomplishments and over the complete lack of control of one’s material gain. While such representation of human life may be accepted with strong criticism, the readers find themselves sympathetic to Qoheleth’s conclusion (1).

Chapter 1 addresses the issues pertaining to the identity of Qoheleth. Weeks argues that Qoheleth is “a character rather than the author of the book” (2). All the attempts to find similarities between him and King Solomon have only obscured the characterization of Qoheleth and drawn significance away from his personal experiences that he narrates in the first part of the book. Chapter 2 attempts to establish connections between Qoheleth’s personal experience and his view of the world in Eccl. 1—3. Weeks argues against the tendency to see an analogy between the transience of nature which Qoheleth speaks about in the opening poem of Eccl. 1:4—8, and the transience of human life which he addresses in Eccl. 3—15. He suggests that Qoheleth offers a sharp contrast between the permanence of nature and the transience of human life. Using his life story, Qoheleth explains this contrast to show that while humans are involved in activities that are too big for them to understand, their lives are too short to comprehend a bigger picture of what God is doing in the world (76).

Chapter 3 explores Qoheleth’s thoughts on what human life should be like in this world, especially as it relates to pleasure. Weeks proposes that Qoheleth views pleasure as something that can be attained in life as opposed to the elusive material gain and lack of human understanding about the future. He believes that pleasure is a gift or a reward which God gives to humanity. While pleasure is not a substitute for an ethical behavior, it is available only to those who please God. According to Weeks, Qoheleth believes “that humans can affect God’s attitude toward them” (84). By doing what is right people can gain advantage in life and deserve God’s favor; however, acting righteously is constrained by their inability to recognize God’s favor or disfavor accordingly and by the lack of material reward.

Chapter 4 examines the meaning and the usage of the word hebel in the book of Ecclesiastes. Weeks suggests that Qoheleth “employs it as a way of characterizing not the failure of the world to meet reasonable human expectations, but the problem that humans face in their encounter with the world” (3). Everything that confronts people is hebel because they cannot grasp it and their actions and motives are hebel because of their misperception of reality. Qoheleth offers his readers a solution to the problem of hebel which is based on the authority of his exceptional intellect and wisdom and his experience of reality. According to Weeks, Qoheleth does not base his claims in the communal wisdom or experience and fails to appeal to any authority which would be convincing to his audience (131).

Assuming that Qoheleth is a skeptic, Chapter 5 looks beyond the book to find out what Qoheleth is skeptical about. Weeks explores the themes of transience of human life and the limitations placed by divine sovereignty on the human existence present in Qoheleth’s thoughts and argues that they are not particular to Qoheleth but rather are common in the ancient literature. Qoheleth is not interested in restating the same conclusion in a new way; rather he desires to steer his audience away from striving after the same unattainable material gain, he has pursued or experiencing the same disappointment over the brevity of human life that has caused him to hate his own existence.

In Concluding Remarks Weeks offers several observations on how the book of Ecclesiastes might have been read. As a character, Qoheleth does not share the ideas and beliefs of the author of the book. However, the existence of Qoheleth’s character suggests while the readers may not agree with his conclusion, they should be willing to engage with his ideas. Qoheleth’s materialism and disillusionment should provoke the audience to rethink and re-evaluate their priorities.

Weeks presents Qoheleth’s message as complex and multifaceted. He does the book of Ecclesiastes justice by suggesting that Qoheleth’s carpe diem passages and his hebel passages should not be understood as opposing each other. Rather Qoheleth sees the experience of pleasure as the only one available to human beings. The constrains of human knowledge and the lack of control over the activities in this world make material gain illusory and transient. Unfortunately, Weeks does not offer a new reading of the book of Ecclesiastes. Seeing Qoheleth as skeptic necessitates understanding the epilogue as a significant correction to the sage’s message. Weeks fails to take into account God’s active role in Qoheleth’s view of the world and his reverence toward God. Such one-sided picture of the sage and his words considerably limits the message of the book and its impact on faith and praxis. Another weakness of Weeks’ work is that he puts valuable scholarly evidence in the footnotes in the Introduction. This book would have benefited from including it into the body of the text.

This notwithstanding, this book is a valued addition to the works on Ecclesiastes with its focus on skepticism in Qoheleth’s thought. Weeks also provides a very thorough study of the word “Qoheleth” in the appendix, which is a valuable resource to any student of the book of Ecclesiastes.

Larisa Levicheva
Wesley Seminary, Indiana Wesleyan University
larisa.levicheva [ at ] indwes.edu

2013.05.07 | Mark Edwards, Image, Word and God in the Early Christian Centuries. Ashgate Studies in Philosophy and Theology in Late Antiquity. Ashgate: Farnham, Surrey 2013. 220 pages. ISBN: 978-1-4094-0671-6.

Review by Jacob Phillips, King’s College London.

Many thanks to Ashgate for kindly providing us with a review copy.

Tertullian’s adage: quid ergo Athenis et Hierosolymis (what has Athens to do with Jerusalem?), tends to be a little overused in theological discourse. As well as being a cliché, it also fosters the view that the philosophical and theological concerns of Graeco-Roman and Hebrew thinking were somehow poles apart. This presupposition is particularly perceptible regarding the issue of divine representation. There has been something of an assumption, no doubt nurtured by certain Biblical references, to assume that ‘pagan idols of silver and gold’ pertain to Athens, whereas the God (with an unspeakable name) of the second commandment of the Decalogue is staunchly aloof to any form of representation.

This oversimplification is, of course, a long way from contemporary readings of the thought of Ancient Greece and Israel. It is rather unsustainable historically to drive a clear philosophical-theological wedge between Athens and Jerusalem, and it is particularly unconvincing to do so on the issue of divine representation. The difficulties involved in navigating between the efficacies of different forms of representation, that is, of word and image, cut-through many of the extant texts of the Ancient World. Mark Edwards sets out to delineate the different dynamics of these issues as they are played out across a wide-range of sources. He covers issues in both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, the well-known figures of classical Greek philosophy from the Homeric literature to the Stoics, the key figures of the Early Roman Era (such as Philo and Plutarch), the Second Century Gnostics and apologists, Third Century Church Fathers like Origen and Clement, then Plotinus and his followers, some Fourth Century figures, then Proclus and, finally, Augustine. As can be seen from this roll-call, the breadth of this study is immense, and the book is a mere 220 pages long.

Besides challenging the questionable notion of an insurmountable split in the concerns of Greek and Hebrew orientated traditions, this work also challenges the notion of a clear dividing line between the concerns of philosophy and theology. Indeed, the avenues of investigation which Edwards opens-up in this regard are quite remarkable. For example, in his discussion of Greek philosophy, we read that the written word was generally seen as a superior vehicle than the visual image, something which is well-known regarding Plato. But what Edwards does not do is side-line these concerns, and similar ones, in, say, Hesiod, Parmenides, or Aristotle, as being of a different order to the concerns surrounding word and image in apparently different world of the Old and New Testaments. To complement the discussion on the early Greek sources, for example, Edwards argues that spoken revelation in the Old Testament is the more dominant and significant form of transmission than the visual. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is the Creation narrative in which God creates the universe by his word, the discussion of which opens Edwards’ first chapter. Making room for a dialogue between areas too often ring-fenced as either strictly philosophical or theological is an insightful move.

Perceptive readers of this review might have picked-up on the fact that, to state – the more significant form of revelation in the Old Testament is verbal – is inevitably a bit sweeping. That is, the Old Testament is a collection of many books, with different earthly authors, spanning centuries in their composition. A biblical scholar, therefore, will no doubt find it easy enough to challenge this remark, and offer some points of deeply significant visual revelations from the Old Testament canon, such as the vision of Ezekiel, the whirlwind in the Book of Job, or the writing on the wall in Daniel. Edwards does deal with some of these instances directly, but the fact remains that the sheer breadth of the discussion in Image, Word and God does come at a price. To deal with texts as variant as pre-Socratic literature, the Hebrew Scriptures, Neo-Platonism and Augustine, in a book of this length, does mean that a level of detail is sacrificed along the way. Overall, I think that the overview Edwards provides of shared concerns between Athens and Jerusalem, and his challenge the rather hidebound presuppositions of classical scholars and church historians, justifies the length and level of detail here – but it is an open question whether or not specialists focussed only on one of these areas, might raise pertinent questions to Edwards regarding their respective sphere of interest.

This point is borne out in the observation that a high point of the book is the discussion on the writings of Origen. This chapter is an accomplished and impressive overview of Origen’s sources, and it can certainly be recommended for use in teaching as an introduction to Origen which could stand-alone for this purpose, apart from the broader concerns of the book. However, the fact that this chapter is rather outstanding, and that Origen is the thinker given the most extensive consideration, does seem to suggest that it remains an open question whether or not this work would have benefitted from perhaps a bit more length, and therefore more detail. This is also the case regarding the excellent discussion of Augustine, who is similarly awarded more individual attention.

Nonetheless, questions surrounding the length and appropriate level of detail for a monograph such as this are rarely straightforward, and the fact remains that Edwards’ general intentions are fulfilled successfully. This book is a fascinating and accomplished work which promises not only to interest biblical scholars and church historians. The issues here touch upon a much broader range concern which should also interest ancient historians and students of classical philosophy. Moreover, this work also has resonance in more contemporary discussions surrounding image and word in, say, theological aesthetics and the move toward a more visually orientated apologetics which is perceptible in contemporary systematic theology. The fact this book has the potential to offer insight to such a broad range of discussions, is indicative of the fact that it is dealing with some issues which go to the heart of much philosophical and theological discussion – and to achieve this in as a homogeneous and consistent fashion as Mark Edwards does here, is commendable indeed.

Jacob Phillips
 King’s College London
jacob.phillips [ at ] kcl.ac.uk

2013.04.06 | Ellen van Wolde. Reframing Biblical Studies: When Language and Text Meet Culture, Cognition, and Context. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2009. $49.50 pp. xiv + 402. ISBN: 978-1-57506-182-5.

Review by Kurtis Peters, University of Edinburgh.

Many thanks to Eisenbrauns for kindly providing us with a review copy.

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Ellen van Wolde’s recent volume, Reframing Biblical Studies, is an ambitious attempt to change the course of the whole of biblical scholarship. Biblical scholarship, she maintains, has become too narrow, too specialized, and does not have much ability to incorporate insights from other disciplines. Those who do attempt a crossover or integration often find themselves fumbling in the dark. Van Wolde, however, suggests a way forward, a light in a dark place – the study of cognition. It is by appeal to the human mind that we can form meaningful bridges between normally separated disciplines.

This is the ambitious sentiment with which van Wolde opens her book in chapter 1. Chapter 2 and 3 then take the reader into the world of cognition and cognitive grammar. Van Wolde spends chapter 2 focusing primarily on the role of the mind in processing the world and how that affects the way people relate to their surroundings. This relating to one’s surroundings can be illustrated most effectively by means of Cognitive Linguistics and Cognitive Grammar, which she sketches briefly here. In chapter 3, she begins to introduce the particulars of Cognitive Linguistics with relation to words and their meanings (rather than clauses, sentences, etc.).

Chapters 4 through 7 demonstrate how Cognitive Linguistics, particularly the theory of Cognitive Grammar generated by Ronald Langacker, can be applied to various types of words. Chapter 4 is dedicated to nominal forms, primarily nouns themselves. The subject of Chapter 5 is prepositions, conjunctions, adverbs, particles, adjectives, participles and infinitives construct, all of which she classifies as ‘atemporal relations,’ i.e. relations not profiling a span of time. Verbs, on the other hand, are the subject of Chapter 6, and are classified as ‘temporal relations.’ Chapter 7 concludes this section with a brief summary of the material covered to that point, and a schematic outline for reference for the following chapters.

Chapters 8 and 9, then, constitute two significant case studies. The first, in chapter 8, looks at one word,טמא, in several texts considered to be representative of its use in the Hebrew Bible. Chapter 9, instead of examining one word throughout its various uses, looks at one passage, Genesis 34:1-31 – the ‘rape’ of Tamar – and the various words contained within it. Chapter 10 concludes the book as a whole and once again calls for biblical scholarship to appropriate this general approach, this integration of disciplines all centred upon the human mind.

As mentioned above, the book opens strongly. The appeal to incorporate insights from a variety of disciplines is well made and it would be difficult to find a biblical scholar who did not agree. It is the method for doing so that is up for debate. Is Cognitive Grammar the answer? Van Wolde is indeed convincing, at least to a point. It may have been overly ambitious to ‘reframe’ all of biblical studies, particularly seeing as the majority of the book is really the application of Cognitive Linguistics to Biblical Hebrew language. It is true that this method illuminates word meanings and word uses, and is a valuable resource for doing even that. It allows those studying Hebrew a methodology for incorporating extra-linguistic information, something that has been taboo ever since James Barr and the 1960’s. I am not so sure, though, that van Wolde has presented a methodology that can be applied to other sorts of biblical research. Perhaps it could be, but her argument for such application needs more thorough articulation.

Despite perhaps being misguided in the scope of her project, van Wolde still clearly delivers a success insofar as it applies to Hebrew semantics. She quickly dispels the notion that word meaning can be equated with dictionary-type definitions. On page 55 for example she dismisses the typical definition of war, which refers to an act that includes fighting between countries, with weapons, where many people die. Instead, she says,

War is warfare, weapons, troops, logistics; war is soldiers fighting each other and fighting tiredness and sleep. War is soldiers struggling on the battlefield with blood in their mouths and dust in their nostrils. War is friends dying before your eyes and fear of the next attack…. War is aggression and the diminishment of civil rights. War is rape and the children born from it. War is hatred and terror. War is reluctance and indifference….

With this visceral description, she potently demonstrates that to know the meaning of the word ‘war,’ one must have this broader knowledge and experience. What she then goes on to do is set out a methodology for employing this kind of encyclopaedic knowledge in the meaning of words.

One of the more effective ways of doing this is the relationship of what van Wolde (following John R. Taylor and Ronald Langacker) calls profiles, bases and domains. Profiles demonstrate the actual information that a word designates, whereas a base is the inherent and necessary information for comprehending that profile. For example, on page 56, she suggests that for the word ‘island’ the profile is a landmass and the base is the knowledge that it is surrounded by water. These profiles and bases, however, must be understood on the backdrop of a cognitive domain, a selection of a language user’s encyclopaedic knowledge. In this example, geology might serve as the appropriate cognitive domain.

In chapters 5 and 6, van Wolde goes on to discuss atemporal and temporal relations. At this point, the reader may have a more difficult time following the plot. Much of this has to do with the fact that Cognitive Grammar categorizes words differently than traditional grammar. However, van Wolde could have guided the reader through this maze more clearly than she did.

By chapters 8 and 9, the plot became even more difficult to follow, at least by comparison to where she started in her wide-ranging introduction. In both of these later chapters, it seems as though van Wolde was ‘showing her work.’ Every detail was analysed. Granted, she was trying to present a method that others could apply and therefore she wanted to show how to do it. However, by the end of nearly 90 pages of details in chapter 9, the plot was almost entirely lost. She certainly made a strong case for a multi-layered reading of the Dinah narrative, but need not have taken so long to do so, or even to demonstrate her method.

Despite the possibly misplaced ambition and the unnecessary detail, van Wolde clearly has made a significant contribution to the study of Hebrew semantics, especially for those of us still trying to discern how real-world knowledge relates to the words that describe it.

Kurtis Peters
University of Edinburgh

2013.04.05 | Charles E. Hill and Michael J. Kruger, eds., The Early Text of the New Testament. Oxford: OUP, 2012.  Xiv + 483 pages. HB. ISBN: 978-0-19-956636-5.

Review by Edgar Battad Ebojo, University of Birmingham.

Many thanks to OUP for kindly providing us with a review copy.

This book is another provocative exploration of the text of the New Testament specifically in relation to the question of its character and quality of transmission as reflected in the earliest extant manuscripts (mostly papyri) dated within the first three centuries of Christian existence, hence, its title.  It is from this time-bound chronological perspective that the 21 articles, written by veteran and budding scholars from the various fields traversed in the book, were impressively and cogently composed, aiming to examine and asses what the text of the NT might have looked like in the earliest surviving manuscripts (and how the NT text [or specific portions of it] was eventually perceived by some of the early Christian writers) in comparison to [and disjunction from] the text of the NT that is now widely known to the modern readers through the printed critical texts.

In general, this book of 512 pages generously affords readers a well-rounded appreciation of the intricate (and somewhat controversial) issues involved in the transmission of the NT text at its earliest reconstructible history, derivable from the fund of earliest extant manuscripts.  The depth and breadth of the discussions and the wealth of references definitely makes it a must-read book for those who are interested in the text of the NT.  Having said that, I am of the opinion that the contributors would be the first ones to disagree if one would conclude that this book is the final word on the matter.

The book is divided neatly into three overarching themes: The Textual and Scribal Culture of Early Christianity (pp21-80); the Manuscript Tradition (pp81-258); and, Early Citation and Use of the New Testament Writings (pp259-413).  Each contributor and the editors are to be commended for the impressively cogent and wide discussions of the multifaceted issues and most recent areas of debate within their assigned topic, and any serious student of the New Testament text would never be disadvantaged in acquiring a personal copy of this book.

For its sheer size alone, it would not do justice to the book to simply offer a one-liner comment for each article.  Instead, for this review, I raise some observations and questions pertinent to the general theme and stylistic structure of the book.  Let me begin with the minute ones.

It is interesting to note that the OUP staff involved in the process have been duly acknowledged and specifically named, including the translator, but I wonder why the editors’ wives, while also acknowledged, were never explicitly named.  It would be great to see their names as well—a deserved accolade for sojourning with the editors for “six and a half years” working on this project!

All the contributors’ names are written in full in the “Contributors” page, except for Prof. J.K. Elliott’s.  I wonder if this is the wishes of Prof Elliott, but even if that is the case, it does not harm to see his name written in full just as anyone else in this compendium. (In fact, a look at the bibliography shows that his name entry is rendered as “Elliott, J. Keith” [pp423-24]).

Locating the book in the NT text-critical map

On a more substantial matter, Dr Hill and Dr Kruger  optimistically portrayed the field of NT textual criticism as having resurrected from near extinction in the last quarter of the previous century to a rejuvenated discipline where various text-critical and auxiliary projects all over the world are simultaneously being undertaken—an important point where this book takes off.  They also stated that “The growth in new knowledge unavailable to previous generations of scholars has arguably reached a ‘critical mass’” (p2).  (However, we are not explicitly told what the “critical mass” is for).  Then it intimates that the present volume “intends to provide an inventory and some analysis of the evidence for understanding the pre-fourth century period of transmission of the NT materials” (p2).

Because of the looming questions attached with the concept “original text”, which of course figures prominently throughout the book, the editors cautiously stated “Our concern here is not so much a recovery of the original text, but an analysis of the ‘early’ text and its transmission” (p4).  However, they immediately added “while the complexities in recovering the original text need to be acknowledged, that is a separate question from whether the concept of an original text is incoherent and should therefore be abandoned as a goal of the discipline”.  But I am a bit lost in the comparison they made between attempts to recover the original text of the NT and that of the classical texts, as a matter of goal, putting them on the same plane.  It seems naïve to me to dismiss the idea that the pursuit of establishing the “original text” does not have a religious component at all!  Perhaps there is wisdom in listening to those who are involved in Bible translations how this “religious phenomenon” has affected to a lesser or greater extent the form of the text they eventually chose to reflect in their translation and the reading/s they chose to relegate to the footnotes.

At any rate, underscoring the continuing value of recognizing the concept of an “original text” as a goal of the discipline, it is not difficult to sympathize with the editors’ statement on p5: “Recognizing the historical value of such scribal variations need not be set in opposition to the goal of recovering the original text.  These two aspects of textual criticism are complimentary, not mutually exclusive.” However, the following statement is, I think, less convincing:  “Indeed, it is only when we can have some degree of assurance regarding the original text that we are even able to recognize that later scribes occasionally changed it for their own theological purposes. Without the former we would not have the latter.” I doubt whether the intricate issue of detecting the emergence of textual variations can be simplistically framed into this chronological schema.

Scribal habits

In p.13, the editors introduced Royse’s monograph as an indispensable study on “Christian scribal habits” (emphasis added). But I wonder whether Royse really clearly made this distinction in his 1981 dissertation and 2008 monograph, or whether there is distinctly “Christian” in the habits identified by him.  It seems to me that there is nothing uniquely “Christian” about a scribe committing haplographies or harmonisations to immediate contexts, etc.; scribes of early classical texts committed them, too.  “Scribal habits” would perfectly do!

The way the concept of “scribal habits” was introduced on p14 is also a bit unclear.  It seems to me that the operational assumption is that “singular readings” in a particular manuscript are equal to “scribal habits”.  The editors also seem to operate on the assumption that the identification of “scribal habits” would eventually help in the recovery of the “original text”, arguing that “(W)hat keeps this method from being circular… is that the features at issue do not include all forms of variation but only obvious scribal errors.  Particularly relevant would be those errors which result from the scribe skipping from one or more letters to other like letters…, and phenomena which appear to manifest the habitual traits of an individual scribe” (p14).  But why privilege the “obvious scribal errors” over the non-obvious ones if the goal of a scribal study is to profile its habits?  Also, we must ask what scribal habits are “particularly relevant” for?  Furthermore, does the statement “Identifying such obvious scribal contributions… may enable a somewhat clearer estimate of the underlying text which the scribe inherited” (p14) mean that the editors take the “underlying text” to be the “original text”?

Accordingly, one conspicuous feature of almost all the articles in Part II is the appeal to “scribal habits” of individual manuscripts, which admittedly highlights their copying peculiarity. However, it does not require an expert eye to get the impression that the (lone?) formula used in locating “scribal habits” is “singular readings = scribal habits” (the lone voice appears to be that of Chris Tuckett [p159], and only as a matter of methodological necessity). Hence, one must ask whether this formula is now the “scholarly consensus” in locating scribal habits?  It is equally surprising that none seems to have bothered to provide a substantial discussion on this methodology; what we read are all references to the works of Prof Colwell and Prof Royse!  But if we are talking about individual “scribal habits” of particular manuscripts, does this refer only to the “unique readings” recoverable in the manuscript, which in the first place cannot even be firmly established whether they were indeed created by the first hand or by another or something that are already in the exemplar (see p14 and cf. p85)?

Wish list

Since to a lesser or greater extent the book’s thrust hinges on the “earliness” of the manuscripts mentioned, it is a bit surprising that there is no dedicated article on the subject of how NT manuscripts are dated, whether palaeographically or otherwise. This point will prove its importance when viewed against the recent discussions about the proposed (re)dating of some NT MSS, but particularly of NT papyri.  Also, it would have been a big aid to the readers if there is a ready table of manuscript profiles, appended to the book, featuring their proposed dates, text quality, and textual transmission, codicological features, etc–this would have also compensated the lack of table in Dr Nicklas’ very informative article and a column on “transmission quality” in Prof Elliott’s table on p211.

Exciting Prospect

One very interesting (prophetic?) note by the editors is the second paragraph on p18: “Thus, the investigation of the quality of the work accomplished by the scribes, and the study of non-textual, scribal convention which imply an earlier tradition of controlled copying, are two promising avenues not only for the understanding the manuscripts we now have, but also possibly casting light on the earlier period from no manuscript survive.”  This is very commendable! Indeed, we should eagerly wait for the day when there are more exhaustive studies on the scribal habits of individual manuscripts that we now have, whether they categorically help in the establishment of the “original text” or not.  This would equitably put a human face to the transmission of the NT text.

Unfortunate typo and other errors

On matter of styles, unlike the articles, the documentation presentation is frustratingly fraught with numerous errors involving typography and publication details, as well as inconsistency of presentation.  They of course do not hurt the over-all tenor of the book and can be easily corrected in the next print run. However, I take time to note some of these as their high frequency unfortunately do not do justice to the meticulous effort given by the contributors to their pieces.

Some of the simple spelling errors include the following:  “Peshitṭa” for “Peshita” (p253-n37 [2x]), “omitted” for “omtted” (p345-n62), “Karavidopoulos” for “Karavidopulos” (p415), “Joel Delobel” should be “Joël Delobel” (p416 and p422; correctly reflected in p423), “Leonides” for “Leonidas” (p435 [Luijendijk]), and “Bibelgesellschaft” for “Biblegesellschaft” (p374-n33 and p437 [Metzger’s commentary]). Elsewhere, homeoteleuton/arcton, but homoioteleuton/arcton in p212.  There is a misplaced superscripted “5” after Earliest Gospels (p6-n27) which ought to be deleted. The second “in” (p346-n70) and the extra “and” (p449 [Westcott entry]) need to be deleted, too.

Usually only the author’s surname is retained once it has been previously cited; but the following goes against this universal practice: “Birt” not “Th. Birt” (p25-n4; already mentioned in p23-n1); “Quinn” not “K. Quinn” (p25-n7; cited already in n4); and “Fehrle” not “R. Fehrle” (p29-n25; cited already in n1).  Conversely, “R” or “Robert” should have been inserted before “Grant” (p36-n43). Also, “Miller, Patrick D.” (p427 [Gaventa]) should have been presented as “Patrick D. Miller”.

There are also a number of mistakes involving specific details.  For instance, the correct page number for Barbara Aland’s article assessing the textual character of ‰46 is “116” and not “112-13” as Hill and Kruger cited (p13-n61).  Equally, the citation of the page number of A.G. Martin’s article as “50” (on p436) cannot be correct as the article’s actual page-range in the Lunel Colloquium compendium is “pp248-54”.

“ICC” is “International Critical Commentary”, not “International Critic Commentary” (p.xii), and Bagnall’s Oxford Handbook is on “Papyrology” and not “Papyrus” (p419 [Cavallo]).  Kenyon’s middle initial is “G.” not “C.” (p165-n41).  Das Neue Testament auf Papyrus, ii, Die Paulinischen Briefe teil 1 was entered in the bibliography as having been edited by Junack and Grunewald (p432) but was in fact edited by K. Junack, E. Güting, U. Nimtz, and K. Witte. UBS4 was published in “1993” and not “1983” (p415); UBS3 was the one published in “1983”. Hurtado’s Freer Biblical Manuscripts was published by SBL in 2006, while the hardback Brill edition in 2007 (cf. p151-n59). Similarly, Taylor’s Studies in the Early Text of the Gospels and Acts was published by SBL Text and Studies series, not by the University of Birmingham (p440 [Parker]). The publisher of Aloys Baldus’ book was not “Press” (p417); it seems that its original publisher was “Aschendorff”.

Perhaps because of the high recurrence frequency of the phrase “New Testament Textual Criticism”, a number of “unintentional errors” have been committed.  “Text Criticism” on p6-n30 (Colwell entry) should have been “Textual Criticism”, and the full citation should have been “Studies in Methodology in Textual Criticism of the New Testament” and not “Studies in the Methodology of the Text Criticism of the New Testament” (also p421).  Change “Lunel Conference” (p424) to “Lunel Colloquium”; “New Text in Early Christianity” (p416 [Baarda]; also on p338-n16) to “New Testament Text in Early Christianity”; and “New Testament Criticism and Exegesis” (p152-n64, p414 [Aland]) to “New Testament Textual Criticism and Exegesis”.  The subtitle for K. and B. Aland’s Text of the NT should be “Textual Criticism” and not the plural “Textual Criticisms” (p415). Conversely, “papyri MSS” on p157-n1 should have been “papyrus MSS”.

Presentation inconsistencies involving publication details can, when they recur, become a nuisance.  For instance, the publisher Brill is variably presented as “E. J. Brill” and “Brill” not only between different articles, but also within the same article (e.g., p2-n7 vis-à-vis p2-n8; p262-n6 vis-à-vis p264-n18, p271-n47), and within the same footnote (e.g., p253-n37).  Of similar situation is the presentation of “Mohr” (e.g., p295-n29), “Mohr Siebeck” (e.g., p303-n3), and “J. C. B. Mohr” (p429 [Heckel]).

One cannot help but also suspect that more recently published books cited in the articles have never been cross-checked.  For instance, In p434 Kraus and Nicklas’ Early Christian Manuscripts is still reflected as “forthcoming”, when it was already published in 2010 (so is Becker and Runesson’s Mark and Matthew [cited in p83-n1 and p448], which has been published already in 2011)!  Furthermore, Nicklas (p230-n26) cited Verheyden et al’s Ancient Christian interpretation of Violent Texts in the Apocalypse as published in “2011”, but is reported in p429 as still “forthcoming”.  (Surprisingly, the Hasitschka entry for the same book by Verheyden et al is differently entitled: Interpreting Violent Texts: The Reception of the Apocalypse in the Ancient World!).

There are also numerous abbreviation inconsistencies, especially of learned journals and monographs.  The “Abbreviations” page shows that the Studies and Documents series is to be abbreviated as “SD”.  However, the series is variously cited as “StD” (p423 [Ehrman and Holmes]), “St&D” (p434 [Kraeling]), “SandD” (p434 [Kubo]), and “Studies and Documents” (p425 [Epp]).  Similarly, the Text and Editions of New Testament Studies, to be abbreviated as “TENTS”, was rendered as “TENT” twice (p420 and p434). Curiously, Arbeiten Zur Neutestamentlichen Textforschung has two entries in the “Abbreviations” page, “ANTF” and “ANTT”, but rendered otherwise in p415 (Text und Textwert) as “ANT”.  On supplement series, “JNTS Suppl. Ser. 258” (p426 [Gamble]) should have been “JSNTSup 258”, whereas “NovTSup” for “Supp NovT” (p424 [Elliott]) if the “Abbreviations” page is to be strictly followed.

In contrast, the following are not listed in the “Abbreviations” page but were otherwise abbreviated: “BZ” (p237-n61 [Schmid]); “Div” (p436 [Mees]); and “JSJ.S” (p438 [Nicklas]); while “JTSNS” (p417) is an unknown abbreviation.  Novum Testamentum was also puzzlingly abbreviated as “NT” on p429 (Harvey), and its volume edition is inconsistently presented as “NovT, vol 53” (p416 [Baarda]), although on the same page, just one line below, another of Baarda’s NovT article is presented as “NovT 17”.

Another more conspicuous abbreviation inconsistency concerns the papyrus siglum in unicode format (unfortunately, I cannot represent the siglum here due to the limitation of this site’s platform), which is generally used throughout, but is occasionally represented as “P” in the body (p144-n15, p149-n39, 46; p168-n55; p171; p218-n40; p219-n42; etc), in the bibliography (p414 [3x], 418, etc), and in the manuscript index (e.g. “P5”, “P39”, “P47”, and “P113” [pp.470-71], etc).   There are also numerous instances where the accompanying papyrus numbers are not superscripted regardless of whether they use the unicode siglum or “P” (e.g., “‰66 und ‰75” p414 [2x], “P72” [p418], “‰64 + 67”, “P113” [p.471], etc).

The first letter of the sigla “cf.” and “ibid.” are in upper cases (i.e., “Cf.” and “Ibid.”) when they begin a sentence; conversely, “e.g.” is not capitalized except the anomaly in p108-n1 (i.e., “E.g.”; cf. p393-n1).

There are bibliographical entries that reflect only the actual page/s mentioned in the footnotes but not the actual page-ranges. For instance, Duff’s “‰46 and the Pastorals” is “578-90” not “579” only (p180-n13 and p423); “361” in Ehrman’s “Text as Window” (p423) should have been “361-79”; Turner’s “Scribes and Scholars” in Bowman’s Oxyrhynchus (p447) should be “256-61”, not “258-9” (as cited in p17-n77); “163-73” for “169-70” (p426) of Fee’s “Text of John…”; “1-16” for “3” (p449) of Williams’ “An Evaluation of the Use of Peshitta…”;  Roberts’ Two Biblical Papyri in the John Rylands Library should be “219-36” not “227” only (p443). M. Parvis’ “The Nature and Tasks…” should be “165-74” not just “172” (p440), and insert the publication date “1952” (correctly cited in p3-n17). Obviously, “at 261” (p444 [Runia]) should have been deleted.

The citation of Epp’s “Twentieth Century Interlude” on p1-n1 (also on p424) is the JBL 93 (1974) edition but wrongly entered as “JBL 98 (1979)”. Furthermore, on both pages, the page-range given (again wrongly) is “94-8”, which is more likely to have been a citation from the reprint edition in Epp and Fee’s Studies in the Theory and Method of NT Textual Criticism, pp83-108!

The following, although explicitly cited in the body of the book, do not have bibliographical entries: Hurtado’s The Freer Biblical Manuscripts (cited in p.151-n59) as well as his RBL review of Bagnall’s Early Christian Books in Egypt (p83-n3);  Foster’s “The Gospel of Peter” (p352-n4); Nicklas’ “Papyrus Egerton 2” (p355-n11); Kraus’ “The Fayyum Gospels” (p362-fn17); and Anderson’s, “The Origen-al Text of the Gospels” (p394-n4).  Wasserman’s TC Journal article “A Comparative Textual Analysis of ‰4 and ‰64 + 67” has no entry also, although his SBL paper was entered (p448).  But whereas the foregoing do not have entries, the following have been entered twice: Keith’s The Pericope Adulterae (p432 and p433), and Colwell’s seminal article on “Scribal Habits” (p420), the first entry of which mistakenly cited “‰45” as “‰46” (also in p93-n37) and the second entry gave the original title of the 1965 article although it cites Colwell’s 1969 monograph!  Also, Fee’s “‰75, ‰66 and Origen: Myth of Early Textual Recension in Alexandria” was entered twice, as if two different articles, simply because only the subtitle of the article was cited in p9-n39 (but correctly quoted in p133-n67)!  The placement of the page-range “247-73” in the second entry is also misleading as the actual page-range in the original publication is “19-45”.  These are just few random examples; there maybe more.  These unnecessary errors could have been avoided if at the first instance of citation the page-range of the article has been cited fully in the footnotes, followed by the page of the actual citation, as is standard in most other documentation systems. One can easily sympathise with the bibliographer who, perhaps like the scribes of old, must have experienced disturbing difficulty in deciding which of the “variant forms” is to be discarded and which one to retain.  In these cases though, he reflected both!

Biblical references are generally presented with a 1-space gap between the chapter and verse/s (i.e., “1. 1”), however, there are a number of instances where this is not observed (e.g., p.109-n2 [8x]; p146 [3x]; p300-n41 [2x], etc).  (Conversely, there should be no space-gap for “FilNeo” on p415).

On matters of punctuation mistakes, the following may be mentioned: delete period (“.”) after “published edition” (p114-n27); insert comma (“,”) after Zwiep, and change full stop (“.”) to a comma (“,”) before “NTS” (p137-n100); insert single close quote (“’”) after “Apokalypsen” (p231-n26); delete period (“.”) in “.47” (p444 [Schmid]); insert “/” sign in “6467” (p448 [Wachtel]); change  comma (“,”) after the date of publication to colon (“:”) (p416 [Baarda]); “Boston: Brill” not “Boston, Brill” (p234-n45:); and “Marmardji, A.-S.” for “Marmardji, A. S.” (p436; cf. p339-fn21).  Also, the colon (“:”) in B. Aland’s article in Weren and Koch should have been after “Textual Criticism” and not after “New Testament” (p414), and which should have also received a comma (“,”) (correctly cited in p424).

Overall, despite the unfortunate typographical and proofreading blemishes, this compendium from OUP is another important addition to our wealth of materials in the field, especially for the study of the text of the New Testament during its earliest recoverable transmission history—an era where the state of its text remains a very challenging one.  The contributors to this anthology have done more than raise important historical and methodological questions; they have shown considerable depth, variety and range, and the editors have equally taken pains over their work—they are all to be congratulated for this significant feat!

2013.04.04 | Rainer Albertz, James D. Nogalski, and Jakob Wöhrle, Eds. Perspectives on the Formation of the Book of the Twelve: Methodological Foundations – Redactional Processes – Historical Insights. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2012. ISBN 9783110283341.

Review by Matthew V. Moss, Durham University.

Many thanks to De Gruyter for kindly providing us with a review copy.

The perceived unity of the twelve Minor Prophets as one, complete Book of the Twelve (henceforth BT) has received increased attention by Old Testament scholars over the last twenty years. Scholars from different methodologies have weighed in on the discussion, but the most prolific response has come from redaction criticism. Perspectives on the Formation of the Book of the Twelve is the latest compilation of essays intended to further the discussion of potential theories for how these twelve documents were stitched together into a unified book.

With few exceptions, the twenty-four essays that make up Perspectives adopt redaction criticism’s presuppositions and assume the reader’s familiarity with that methodology. As such, the intended readership of Perspectives is, in this author’s estimation, other established scholars interested in the formation and textual history of the BT as well as postgraduate students who already possess some familiarity with both redaction criticism and the previous debates on the unity of the BT.[1] The essays of this volume would not be the most effective summary for a student simply looking for a general grasp of the debate. Nor would this volume be the best starting point for a student looking to enter into this field of study. That said, Perspectives is an invaluable resource, a necessary anthology for those who follow closely the ongoing discussion of the unity and formation of the BT.

Despite the host of German scholars contributing to this volume, all the essays are published in English. This proves to be a helpful contribution of the volume to the field of BT studies. Considering that some of these scholars have few if any other writings in English, the postgraduate student is given an introduction to numerous scholars whose German works, cited in extensive bibliographies at the end of each essay, will prove quite helpful in his own research process. Through these English essays—exposure to the authors, their methodologies, and tendencies—students will be able to narrow their focus on which of the cited German works should take priority in their research.

The essays are divided into four categories, the first three of which correspond closely to the sub-title of the book. The first three essays fall under the heading of “Methodological Issues.” Generally speaking, the essays of this section focus on underlying methodological issues regarding synchronic and diachronic readings of the BT. They call for the best possible handling of redaction critical methods and try to demonstrate ways it can be done well.

The second category is “Editorial Issues,” whose fourteen essays offer explanations for editorial passages and unique intertextual features found both in individual books of the BT as well as larger sequential units (i.e. Nahum-Habakkuk-Zephaniah). The diverse views held by scholars within redaction criticism and the potential for heated scholarly debate become readily apparent when reading and comparing the essays of this section. Often and expectedly conclusions of one essay preclude the conclusions of another. This section of essays in particular demonstrates why the study of the unity and formation of BT has flourished and no doubt will continue to do so!

The third category of “Historical Issues” contains four essays all of which quite interestingly explore various historical circumstances and how they affect our understanding of the BT and its possible formation. The final category, not alluded to in the sub-title of the book, is “Issues Concerning the Canon.” The title is somewhat misleading, however. As is readily apparent from the titles of the three essays alone, a more appropriate title might be “Textual Issues.” Though still concerned with the canonical formation and the sequence of the books of the BT, the essays that make up this section are primarily centered on textual criticism and insights it lends to redaction critical theories of the BT’s formation.

With this broad overview of the four sub-divisions in place, let us examine a few of the essays that are representative of what can be found in each of these categories. From the first section, “Methodological Issues,” I will take up Marvin Sweeney’s essay, “Synchronic and Diachronic Concerns in Reading the Book of the Twelve Prophets (21-33).” By discussing both synchronic and diachronic approaches, Sweeney tries to bridge the gap between two differing, but not necessarily exclusive methods of reading the BT (21). He begins his essay with a synchronic handling of the final form of the entire text of the BT. His primary concern at this stage is to understand the overall message and framework of the BT in its final form before ever attempting to isolate discontinuities or propose redactional layers that provide the scholar with evidence of redactional processes.

Once one understands the overall framework, then the scholar can proceed methodologically to the diachronic task of reconstructing the BT’s growth and development into the forms we know. As Sweeney explains it, “Analysis of the Book of the Twelve must begin with the synchronic task of assessing the final forms of the versional texts in question, e.g., the Septuagint, Masoretic, and other relevant forms, to address the diachronic question of their respective socio-religious, socio-political, and historical settings. Only then may work turn to the diachronic process of reconstructing the literary growth that led to those textual forms (23).” From this point and moving forward Sweeney is concerned with the different sequence of the first six of the twelve prophets as found in the Septuagint over and against that found in the Masoretic Text. Obviously, having Joel read in light of Micah provides a very different synchronic reading than one where Micah is read in light of Joel. Thus, different theological and socio-political circumstances are diachronically examined to explain the different sequences and their literary effects.

In Sweeney’s case, he argues that the Septuagint sequence reflects a slightly earlier tradition than the Masoretic. He locates the Masoretic ordering in relation to Ezra and Nehemiah’s attempts “to restore Jerusalem as the holy center of post-exilic Judah (25).” In contrast to this, Sweeney sees the Septuagint’s sequential reading as calling for an ordering in the early Persian Period because of its focus on northern Israel’s fall and “the potential for the restoration of Davidic rule over all Israel once again (29).” Sweeney offers an interesting contrast of the sequential readings of the Septuagint’s and Masoretic Text’s respective orders for the BT, but ultimately, such a proposed reading is still conjectural even if it seems plausible.

From the largest category, “Editorial Issues,” I will briefly summarize Rainer Kessler’s essay, “The Unity of Malachi and Its relation to the Book of the Twelve (223-236).” Kessler emphasizes Malachi’s literary uniqueness in the BT, a claim much to the contrary of common BT scholarly opinions. In this essay Kessler provides a host of references from Malachi that demonstrate the author’s awareness of actual Torah and prophetic texts. One such example is the Jacob and Esau/Edom reference in Malachi 1:4-5. Contrary to common claims of Malachi’s reliance upon other BT writings (Wöhrle and Nogalski), Kessler claims that the allusions of Malachi form a stronger bond with Jeremiah and Ezekiel than any of the books of the BT (230). This connection to prophetic and Torah texts leads Kessler to date Malachi in the late Persian period, giving the writer more time for the material to become available, learned, and known widely enough to reference. That Kessler takes Malachi as a complete and independent book is an example of how the essays of the “Editorial Issues” section provide the reader with vastly different points of view and intriguing arguments and counter arguments.

From the section on “Historical Issues,” I will briefly explore Jason Radine’s essay, “Deuteronomistic Redaction of the Book of the Four and the Origins of Israel’s Wrongs (287-302).” In this essay Radine contrasts the ideologies and criticisms of the Northern Kingdom of Israel as found in the Deuteronomistic History (DtrH) of 1-2 Kings and that of Hosea-Amos-Micah. In 1-2 Kings the expressed reason for the fall of Israel was the religious practices of Jeroboam ben-Nebat in which the people continued to walk until the Assyrian Conquest (1 Kings 14:16, 2 Kings 17:21-23). As this is the explicit and obvious cause for Israel’s defeat in the DtrH, one would expect to find a trace of it in the passages often noted as Deuteronomistic redaction of the prophets. In the specific case of Hosea, Amos, and Micah (who treat the fall of Israel) Radine notes that it is not to be found.

Throughout the essay Radine provides good insights into specific features of the DtrH ascription of guilt and where similar elements are found in Hosea-Amos-Micah (such as the role cultic practices play in each of the respective treatments of the fall of Israel). While calling for more archaeological evidence to illuminate the historical facts of Jeroboam’s reign and deeds, Radine takes the DtrH ascription of guilt to Jeroboam as not well attested by archaeology. In the end the latter books make no mention of Jeroboam I or Israel’s secession from Davidic kingship as a cause for their fall. Radine does not take this as a cause to abandon the theory of Deuteronomistic redaction in the BT. Thus, his conclusion is twofold. First, whatever Deteronomistic redaction took place, it did not adopt the DtrH indictment and may even stand in opposition to it. Second, the silence over Jeroboam I found in Hosea-Amos-Micah better reflects the current archaeological evidence about this king’s reign.

Essays contained in this anthology:

1. Jakob Wöhrle, “So Many Cross-References! Methodological Reflections on the Problem of Intertextual Relationships and their Significance for Redaction Critical Analysis”

2. Marvin A. Sweeney, “Synchronic and Diachronic Concerns in Reading the Book of the Twelve Prophets”

3. Ruth Scoralick, “The Case of Edom in the Book of the Twelve: Methodological Reflections on Synchronic and Diachronic Analysis”

4. Roman Vielhauer, “Hosea in the Book of the Twelve”

5. Jörg Jeremias, “The Function of the book of Joel for Reading the Twelve”

6. James D. Nogalski, “Not Just another Nation: Obadiah’s Placement in the Book of the Twelve”

7. Aaron Schart, “The Jonah-Narrative within the Book of the Twelve”

8. Burkard M. Zapff, “The Book of Micah – the Theological Centre of the Book of the Twelve?”

9. Walter Dietrich, “Three Minor Prophets and the Major Empires: Synchronic and Diachronic Perspectives on Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah”

10. Matin Leuenberger, “Time and Situational Reference in the Book of Haggai: On Religious- and Theological-Historical Contextualizations of Redactional Processes”

11. Martin Hallaschka, “From Cores to Corpus: Considering the Formation of Haggai and Zechariah 1–8”

12. Byron G. Curtis, “The Mas’ot Triptych and the Date of Zechariah 9–14: Issues in the Latter Formation of the Book of the Twelve”

13. Paul L. Redditt, “Redaction Connectors in Zechariah 9–14”

14. Rainer Kessler, “The Unity of Malachi and Its Relation to the Book of the Twelve”

15. Roy E. Garton, “Rattling the Bones of the Twelve: Wilderness Reflections in the Formation of the Book of the Twelve”

16. Mark E. Biddle, “Dominion Comes to Jerusalem: An Examination of Developments in the Kingship and Zion Traditions as Reflected in the Book of the Twelve with Particular Attention to Micah 4–5”

17. Judith Gärtner, “Jerusalem – City of God for Israel and for the Nations in Zeph 3:8, 9-10, 11-13”

18. Jason Radine, “Deuteronomistic Redaction of the Book of the Four and the Origins of Israel’s Wrongs”

19. Rainer Albertz, “The History of Judah and Samaria in the Late Persian and Hellenistic Periods as a Possible Background of the Later Editions of the Book of the Twelve”

20. Anselm C. Hagedorn, “Diaspora or no Diaspora? Some Remarks on the Role of Egypt and Babylon in the Book of the Twelve”

21. Mark Leuchter, “The Book of the Twelve and ‘The Great Assembly” in History and Tradition”

22. Jennifer Dines, “Verbal and Thematic Links between the Books of the Twelve in Greek and their Relevance to the Differing Manuscript Sequences”

23. Russell Fuller, “The Sequence of Malachi 3:22-24 in the Greek and Hebrew Textual Traditions: Implications for the Redactional History of the Minor Prophets”

24. Hanne von Weissenberg, “‘Aligned’ or ‘Non-aligned’? The Textual Status of the Qumran Cave 4 Manuscripts of the Minor Prophets”

2013.04.03 | Duane F. Watson, ed. Miracle Discourse in the New Testament. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012. ISBN 1589831187.

Reviewed by Brandon Walker, University of Nottingham.

Many thanks go to SBL for kindly providing us with a review copy.

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Miracle Discourse in the New Testament is a collection of essays that were originally presented at the Society of Biblical Literature annual meeting in 2001.  Miracle discourse itself has been analyzed and critiqued since the Enlightenment and has come to the fore with the publication of the works of Wendy Cotter, Graham Twelftree and most recently Craig Keener. The papers presented in this particular volume dialogue with Cotter’s Miracles of Greco-Roman Antiquity and her latest work, The Christ of the Miracle Stories: Portrait through Encounter.  The book follows a canonical order and shows the advantages of examining miracle discourse from a socio-rhetorical method (15).

It has a bibliography, index of primary sources and index of modern authors.

The first chapter by Vernon K. Robbins, “Sociorhetorical Interpretation of Miracle Discourse in the Synoptic Gospels,” provides a socio-rhetorical analysis of miracles within the Synoptic gospels.  Robbins relates the various rhetorolects or rhetorical dialogue with the miracle stories in the gospels.  According to Robbins there are six primary rhetorolects that are displayed and interact with each other in the gospels.  They are: wisdom, miracle, apocalyptic, prophetic, priestly, and precreation. Each of these rhetorolects provides nuances and texture to the accounts providing rhetorical insight to the narratives.  The miracle rhetorolect features unusual enactment of the power of God in the created realm of the universe (18) and “moves beyond description into a mode of early Christian argumentative discourse” (19-20).

An example of rhetorolects intersecting or blending is the account of the leper bowing down to Jesus in petition for healing (Mark 1.40). This story displays a priestly rhetorolect blending with the prophetic rhetorolect as bowing down was a means of showing honor or worship. Jesus acts as a prophet with the healing of a leper with a word. These combinations provide insight into how they viewed Jesus (31-32).

In the miracle discourse, there are often cases (i.e. blind man brought to Jesus) followed by results (Jesus heals him of his blindness), with no comment or logical connections or explanations of how Jesus healed him or who the people thought Jesus was in relation to his ability to heal. Robbins concludes that while there are many miracle stories in the gospels, there is little miracle discourse.  Early Christians used miracle discourse and transformed it into wisdom rhetorolect to “create an entire system of reasoning about God, about Jesus, and about the inner recesses of the hearts and minds of people” (84).

Focusing on Luke-Acts, L. Gregory Bloomquist builds on Robbins, but reduces the range of miracle rhetorolects to two: thaumaturgical and gnostic-manipulationist or magic.  The thaumaturgical related with petitioning a god or deity, whereas the gnostic-manipulationist involves coercion of a god or deity through rituals, pronouncements or formulas.  The thaumaturgical utilizes inductive or paradigmatic reasoning that relies on images, descriptions and analogies.  The gnostic-manipulationist involves logical and deductive reasoning that are tightly argued through assertions, clarifications or rationales to be convincing.   These two rhetorolects can intertwine or be used to subordinate one rhetorolect over the other.  They leave certain questions open regarding miracle narratives such as why audience members respond in fear after witnessing a miracle?  Relying on cultural understanding, thaumaturgical discourse helps move the hearers away from gnostic-manipulationist (logical, formulaic) thinking towards “less rationally assured conclusions that are beyond existing cultural logic” (8).

Todd Penner provides a fascinating examination of the Res Gesti with the miracles of the apostles in Acts.  Acknowledging the hesitancy of scholars to address the authenticity of miracles by distancing Luke from magic, or “sanitizing” the miracles in Luke-Acts, Penner argues that acts of power by the apostles provide insight into the sociocultural context of Acts (130).  Miracle stories in Acts negotiate and identify the locus of power in narrative, provide insight into the political and cultural discourse (136-137).  As “divine men” (theios aner) the apostles proved the expansion of the kingdom of God and the peace of Christ against that of the Roman imperial ideology.  Penner notes the problematic nature of using the “divine man” category and means to “stress that one should be thinking in terms of a broadly conceived and highly variant culture of perceived divine interactions with humans” (143. n. 59).

The words and deeds of the apostles prove to be equally as powerful rendering their opponents powerless. The parallel of word (logon) and deed (ergon) is language of the polis that seeks to advance ones identity by taking away from another (170).  From Jerusalem to Rome, the apostles claimed territory from Rome rendering the emperor impotent through miracles.  These acts of power demonstrate Christ’s Res Gestae as Christian expansion displayed Jesus “mercy” and “justice.”

Gail O’Day’s chapter, “Miracle Discourse in the Gospel of John,” shows how the meaning of the miracle in the gospel of John is embedded in the miracle accounts and throughout the rest of the gospel (180). These stories serve as “signs” for later narratives and point to the person of Jesus and his message (178). O’Day focuses on several miracles throughout John and notices the self-referentiality and cross referencing.  The chapter concludes with the noted lack of exorcism in John, which for O’Day refers back to the prologue of John on how and if one response to the light (John 1.9).

Duane Watson examines Paul’s letters and the relationship between Paul as a rhetors and his miracle working in the chapter titled, “Miracle Discourse in the Pauline Epistles: The Role of Resurrection and Rhetoric.” Watson points out that there is no mention of Jesus’ miracles in Paul’s letters and notes that this is to be expected, as it was not common for rhetors to mention miracles or oracular events in their performances (195).  With the extant Pauline letters we have references to Paul’s own miracle working; however, they are not used directly for argumentation.

Regarding the book of Revelation, David deSilva tests Robbins definition of miracle discourse as a “rehearsal of unusual and dramatic displays of God’s power to restore life and health, furnish food, or remove personal crisis” (3). In an effort to identify how and where John invokes the elements of miracle discourse in Revelation, there is little to no expectation that God intervenes to relieve the diseases, distress or burdens of life.  Rather, Revelation uses other modes of discourse, namely prophetic and apocalyptic. Through examining the numerous possibilities for miracle discourse to be present in the book, deSilva concludes that “there really is no significant miracle discourse in Revelation” (209). Robbins definition does not fit the paradigm for what is considered miracle discourse in Revelation, as the miraculous phenomenon does not benefit humankind.

In the chapter titled “Miracle Discourse in the New Testament: A Response”, Wendy Cotter summarizes the other papers and provides her own critical analysis.  While the socio-rhetorical approach is helpful, Cotter points out that it does not necessarily take into account the Greco-Roman milieu of early Christianity.  Moreover, the six rhetorolects that Robbins provides are not always useful.  For example, the application of “apocalyptic” in instances of exorcism is not useful when exorcisms were common throughout the ancient Mediterranean world. Cotter believes that by locating the sources of power in Bloomquist’s approach is “fresh,” but is divided into categories that ancient narrators would not use (215).

Davina Lopez concludes the volume with a chapter on methodology and miracle discourse. Lopez provides concerns and suggestions for examining miracle discourse, pointing out that readers of miracle stories and socio-rhetorical analysis come to the texts with presuppositions, ideologies and commitments as to what accounts to use or leave out. Using the rain-miracle of Marcus Aurelius which saved the Romans against their northern foes, Lopez shows how various people groups claimed the miracle for themselves—Christians, Chaldeans, Egyptians and Romans each claimed that their god supplied the miracle.  Claims of “what happened” are not pure historical stories, but discourses originating and using particular allegiances that “interrupt dominant articulations of knowing and doing” (238).  Using the visual representation of the rain miracle on the Column of Marcus Aurelius located at the Piazza Colonna in Rome, Lopez underscores the idea that the source of the miracle is open to interpretation and what “really happened” is in the eye of the beholder.  Lopez challenges readers to reflect on what is gained by these choices and in the interpretation of miracle stories.

Miracle Discourse in the New Testament is a fascinating read for anyone interested in socio-rhetorical criticism of the New Testament and miracle.  The contributors to the volume are experts in the area of socio-rhetorical criticism and the essays are well thought through.  The chapters vary in size and Robbins chapter is particularly lengthy (67 pages). However, the insights each of the authors provide perceptive socio-rhetorical analysis of miracle discourse and would be useful to students of the New Testament as well as seasoned experts.

Brandon Walker
University of Nottingham

atxbw [ at ] nottingham.ac.uk

2013.03.02 | Ursula Schattner-Rieser, L’araméen des manuscrits de la mer Morte. I. Grammaire. Instruments pour l’étude des langues de l’Orient ancien 5 (IELOA). Lausanne: Éditions du Zèbre, 2004. SFR45 / €33.00. pp. 180. ISBN 1422–7436; 5; ISBN 2–940351–03–1.

Reviewed by Vasile Condrea, Durham University.

Many thanks go to Éditions du Zèbre for kindly providing us with a review copy.

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This volume represents ‘l’ensemble des traits pertinents’ of a doctoral thesis written under the supervision of André Lemaire and Jean Margain at É.P.H.E.-Sorbonne/Paris. It has been previously reviewed by Ch. Grappe (RHPR 85 (2005), pp. 430-31), T. Muraoka (BO 63 (2006)), G. J. Brooke (JSNT 28 (2006), p. 142), E. Cook and E. Tigchelaar (JSJ 37 (2006), pp. 491-95), and T. Lim (ET 118 (2007), p. 249). Some reviews are more general (Brooke and Lim), while others present some critical remarks (Cook and Tigchelaar) with the addition that these ‘should not be taken to undermine this overall favorable assessment’ (Cook, p. 491).

The book comprises six chapters preceded by an Introduction générale, which presents the historical stages of the Aramaic language (Ancient Aramaic [AA]; Official Aramaic [OA]; Middle Aramaic [MA]; Late Aramaic [LA]; Modern Aramaic). This volume is addressed to those with a fair knowledge of Biblical Aramaic and/or Targumim Aramaic. Her approach is diachronic and comparative as she often resorts to Nabataean, Palmyrian and Syriac.

In the first chapter, one can find some considerations on the Qumran corpus, writings, and dating of the manuscripts. The following chapter is dedicated to the Aramaic phonetics and phonology, adding interesting observations on the historical evolution of the language. Being mostly represented by literary works, the Aramaic language in Qumran is different from that of the stereotyped letters and contracts found at Naḥal Ḥever, Naḥal Ṣe’elim and Wadi Murabba῾ât. Schattner-Rieser suggests that the Aramaic found in Qumran is an intermediary dialect between the Imperial Aramaic and Targum Aramaic as it provided the connecting link between the two. There are two stages in this process.
(1) The interdental consonants suffer a four-stage transformation from the Proto-Semitic (PS) to AA, OA, MA. (for instance: *ḏ (ז) PS→ ז AA → ז , דOA → ד (ז) MA; *ṯ PS→ש  (š) AA → ת OA → ת MA; *ḍ (ק) PS→ ק AA → ק, ע OA → ע MA [p. 35]).
(2) In the II century CE, Aramaic phonetic laws do not allow for two pharyngeal letters (ח and ע) to be present in the same word and consequently a dissimilation process occurs in which they are changed into laryngeal letter (א). One of the examples is that of לעבק: in OA לעבק (immediately) → לעבע in Qumran (first stage) → לאבע in Targum (second stage) [p.45]. This argument was also developed in her article ‘Note sur *ḍ et la (non-)dissimilation des pharyngales en araméen. A propos d’un chaînon manquant découvert à Qumrân’ in Études sémitiques et samaritaines offertes à Jean Margain (Lausanne: Éditions du Zèbre, 1998).

The morphology is described in the third chapter which examines the pronoun, the verb, and the noun. The exposition follows a standard pattern as Schattner-Rieser uses examples from Biblical Aramaic (to reinforce the argument) and resorts to comparative presentations of the AO, Biblical Aramaic and Qumran Aramaic. This is very helpful as it commences with the data already known to the reader and passes through these different historical stages of the language.

Chapter 4 is dedicated to the particles (preposition, conjunction, and adverb). These particles are said to be flexible as they ‘can have more than one meaning and belong to three categories’ [p. 93] (a few examples of this phenomenon would have been handy). The prepositions in Qumran Aramaic are the same as in Biblical Aramaic to which four other may be added (later found in Targumim Aramaic) – בדיל (because), כפם (according to), עלוי (above), and גב על (near) [p. 93]. A separate section refers to other particles which fall outside the above mentioned morphological classes (הא [there], נה/נא [please],  יא[oh, (father, my brother)], לכה [here, there], ארי/ארו [there], איתי (לא), [there is/there is not], ית [nota accusativi]).

The short chapter discussing lexical problems is divided into three parts: (1) new words that are used more in the later dialects; (2) loan words (from Akkadian, Persian, Greek, Latin, Hebrew, and Syriac); (3) proper nouns.

The final chapter connects the Morphology and Syntax in Aramaic as it presents the syntactical rules for pronoun, verb, noun, numeral and preposition, including a special section on word order [pp. 132-135]. It starts with morphological considerations relevant for the syntax and then passes to the syntax itself. Schattner-Rieser is not interested in answering the question whether the Aramaic in Qumran follows the classic waw-consecutive rule or not. Nevertheless, she lists two examples that seem to contradict it: 1QapGen XIX, 18 and 4Q551, frag. 1a-c, 4-5 [p. 118]. Besides its function as predicate, the participle can also be a verbal noun, a verbal adjective and be used in periphrasis with the verb היה [to be].

This book represents a useful tool for those interested in enhancing their knowledge about the Aramaic language. Due to its straightforward way of presentation, it can easily be used in class for a seamless transition from teaching Biblical Aramaic to Targum Aramaic. It covers the most important features of Aramaic in Qumran and also its connection with the preceding or later dialects. A further discussion of waw-inversive and word-order in Qumran would have been most welcomed in the extensive chapter that deal with the syntax.

Vasile Condrea
Durham University
v.a.condrea [ at ] durham.ac.uk

2013.02.01 | Paolo Liverani, Giandomenico Spinola and Pietro Zander, The Vatican Necropoles. Rome’s City of the Dead. Turhout: Brepols Publishers, 2010. 352 pp., 292 figs., hbk, ISBN 978-2-503-53578-4.

Reviewed by Alexandra Ion, University of Bucharest.

Many thanks to Brepols Publishers for kindly providing us with a review copy.

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This book is the most updated synthesis of the funerary discoveries from the Vatican Hill. It continues and completes the wide range of literature on the topic (e.g.: Liverani 1999; Liverani and Spinola 2006; Nicolai 1999; Nicolai et al. 2009), by presenting the results of the excavations carried on the Vatican Hill during the years of 1940-1947, 1953-1958, and from 2001 to 2006. It examines 3 areas with funerary vestiges: the so called Vatican necropolis under St. Peter’s basilica, the Autoparco and the Santa Rosa sections along Via Triumphalis (8).

Based on extensive archaeological evidence, historical and literary sources, the volume is designed as a repertoire of discoveries, rather descriptive than synthetic.

Referring to the Romans who erected these funerary monuments, Buranelli (2010, 9) writes in the Introduction: “[...] they wanted to remind the visitors and people passing by – in that moment and for the centuries to come – that right there, on that particular spot, was buried Tiberius Natronius Venustus 4 years old, whose face with the finest features was sculpted in marble”. This phrase not only summarises very well what a visitor can expect while wondering through the corridors of this fascinating city of the dead, but also how the authors of this book chose to approach the topic. It is an approach that starts from the literal sense of “monumentum”, as a memory of the deceased, and understands the cemetery as a place where social relations are represented and negotiated, through the use of material culture. Therefore, it can be best described as a work of ancient history and classical archaeology, with influences from the social history and the archaeology of memory (see for example the works that explore Roman burial practices, from the classical book of Jocelyn Toynbee (1971), to the latest research, such as the one of Maureen Caroll and Jane Rempel (2011) ).

The book comprises of an Introduction, five chapters, notes, bibliography and an index of names, places and subjects. It starts from placing the necropoles in their topographical setting, then it looks at the rituals (anthropological and religious aspects), and continues by focussing on the different necropoles. In each case, the authors examine the monuments and their succession (in time and space), explain the decorations, and the associated material culture.

The introduction, written by Francesco Buranelli, is an overview of the history of the excavations of the 400 tombs, dated between the 1-4^th centuries. Some topographic considerations, a summary of the demographic information for ancient Rome (which needed for example to accommodate in death a population up to 1.5 mil in the time of the catacombs, 7), and issues of conservation and protection of the area place the necropoles in a wider context.

The first chapter, Topographic setting, presents a history of Ager Vaticanus, from the mentioning of Pliny the Elder, to the times of Nero and through the Middle ages. Furthermore, by presenting a brief history of the land properties and of their owners, including some representative late Republican and early Imperial funerary monuments (such as the Sepulcrum Scipionis, Hadrian’s tomb, or the burials from Circus of Caligula and Nero), the reader gets a better understanding of how the cemeteries came into being. The chapter concludes with Constantin’s St.Peters basilica erected in the 4^th century.

Chapter two, The rituals: Anthropological and religious aspects, examines the archaeological data regarding the funerary customs, being “synthetic rather than systematic” (36). It is an introduction in the topic, illustrated by examples. Masonry triclinium beds, jugs for pouring libations or terracotta tubes, wicker baskets for the poor versus marble monuments for the rich – all these material remains are explained as evidence of Ancient Roman’s beliefs and attitudes towards death, commemoration and social order. The chapter dwells on methodological considerations on the limitations of the archaeological documentation and the specificity of various types of sources that come into play in such a complex analysis (archaeological, epigraphical and literary).

In the next chapter, The necropolis under St. Peter’s basilica, are presented the results of the researches done in the most famous of these Roman necropoles, where the tomb of St. Peter has been identified. The extensive literature on this topic is discussed, from the excavations during Pope Pius XII, to the identification of the Trophy of Galus, Guarducci’s interpretation of the “Peter is here” graffito and to the criticism met by this circumstantial evidence for identifying the tomb of the apostle. Then, the authors offer a detailed description of each monument, by looking at: history, topography, architecture and decoration, chronology, and grave goods. Therefore, the readers can browse through a series of examples of Roman funerary images and paraphernalia, from pictorial decorations with bucolic scenes to Egyptian gods, from columbaria to marble sarcophagi, from alabaster vases with Medusa heads to infant’s funerary masks.

Chapter 4 is focused on The Vatican Necropolis on the Via Triumphalis. After a short introduction in the history of the Via Triumphalis, the chapter is divided in four parts, each dealing with an area of the necropolis: the Galea area, the Autoparco necropolis, the Annona area and the Santa rosa area. Each of these areas is studied following the model from the previous chapter.

The last chapter, The Necropolis underneath St. Peter’s Basilica. Conservation and Restauration is written by Pietro Zander and aims at highlighting some of the main issues with respect to the conservation and restorations work carried in this part of the necropoles. This can be a very interesting analysis even for a non-specialist, as it introduces key themes relevant for such an endeavour: the specificity of an underground environment, the type of analysis that were conducted and the solutions taken to prevent degradation and to restore what was needed.

The book throughout is well documented and rests on extensive archaeological evidence. All chapters are illustrated with lavish images, plans and maps (292 figures in 352 pages) – for this reason the book can also be seen as being album-like. Through presenting extensive architectural, epigraphic, historical, and archaeological evidence, the book charts the Vatican necropoles.

When one considers the history of the Roman catacombs one needs to take into account that it is intertwined with the history of Roman funerary beliefs and rituals, as well as with the shaping of the Christian funerary practices and iconography, or with the history of the Catholic Church. From a methodological point of view, other issues come together, such as the problems of excavating and interpreting funerary remains, as well as conservation issues. In this respect, the volume is rather a repertoire of discoveries with occasional critical comments, than a themed oriented synthesis of the results. The discussions on re-presenting and preserving the memory of a person are placed only as commentaries to the various tombs. From the point of view of archaeology, even though the monuments and inscriptions are widely described, the other material remains play a smaller role in the narrative. Moreover, being an overview of research done in cemeteries, it would have been interesting to see anthropological analysis of the human remains. However, there are very few remarks on the actual bodies of the deceased.

Even though it is based on extensive scholarly research, it is a general public-friendly book, being also suitable for specialists less familiar with the period. The authors take their time to explain the topics. Therefore, it can be a good choice for somebody who wants to get familiarised with the scientific research from the Vatican necropoles, while also getting a grasp of the language and code of representations, funerary practices, beliefs and myths about afterlife in ancient Rome. In the same time, professionals will be pleased too, as it elaborates on the archaeological documentation, as well as literary and epigraphic sources. At times, the narrative can be a little hard to follow, going back and forth, due to the intention of the authors to place the data in a broader context. Even so, all throughout the book it transpires their passion for this topic and the desire to bring the scientific inquiry to the scale of human life, and death. After all, the Vatican necropoles are Rome’s City of the Dead.

Alexandra Ion
University of Bucharest

References:

Buranelli F 2010. Introduction. In: Liverani P, Spinola G, Zander P, The Vatican Necropoles. Rome’s City of the Dead. Turhout: Brepols Publishers.

Caroll M and Rempel J (eds.) 2011. Living through the Dead: Burial and Commemoration in the Classical World (Studies in Funerary Archaeology). Oxford: Oxbow Books

Liverani P 1999. La topografia antica del Vaticano. Vatican: Monumenti musei e gallerie pontificie.

Liverani P and Spinola G 2006. La necropoli vaticana lungo la via Trionfale. Roma: De Luca Editori d’Arte.

Nicolai V F, Bisconti F, Mazzoleni D 2009. The Christian Catacombs of Rome: History, Decoration, Inscriptions. Regensburg: Schnell und Steiner.

Toynbee J M C 1971. Death and Burial in the Roman World. Baltimore: JHU Press.

This year’s conference is included within the International Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature, and will explore the (theo)political visions of authoritative/sacred texts in their historical contexts. It is aimed at graduate students and early career scholars, welcoming contributors from the following fields of research: Old Testament / Hebrew Bible, Pseudepigrapha & Dead Sea Scrolls, New Testament, and Early Christianity.

We are glad to have with us the following plenary speakers, leading the four sections respectively:

• Nathan MacDonald (Cambridge)
• Loren Stuckenbruck (München)
• Matthew Novenson (Edinburgh)
• Candida Moss (Notre Dame)

We are welcoming 250-word abstracts via email at db47@st-andrews.ac.uk by the 1^st of March. Non-SBL members are welcomed.

Topics will include (but will not be limited to), sacred texts and:

• Resistance to hegemony/imperial ideology
• Negotiating power relations
• The theopolitical imagination
• The formation of political communities
• ‘Apocalyptic’ texts and political theology.

It is intended that selected papers will be published in a proceedings volume.

Download conference flyer: StAnGCBECS_2013 (PDF, 970 KB).

Updates will become available here.

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Organisers: Dan Batovici, Jamie Davies, John A. Dunne

2012.12.19 | Margaret Barker, Temple Mysticism: An Introduction. London: SPCK, 2011. 192 pp. ISBN: 978-0281064830.

Review by Matthew Twigg, University of Oxford.

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Any review of Margaret Barker’s Temple Mysticism needs to take adequate account of its overall position in her wider corpus. Since the late 1980s, Barker has published a series of monographs developing what she calls “temple theology”; that is, the idea that the roots of early Christianity, and indeed the New Testament, are both indebted to and built upon forms of worship and theology stemming from the First Temple cult of Judaism. Temple Mysticism is therefore, only the latest instalment in what Barker treats as a lifelong vocation to establish the First Temple essence of early Christianity.

As in Barker’s other works, temple mysticism (i.e. seeing the Lord in a Temple setting) is presented as a hypothesis, as opposed to an overtly demonstrable brute fact of New Testament theology.

This approach must be understood if we are to give a balanced review: “Temple mysticism is a hypothesis. We outline what seems to be the case and see how much evidence fits the proposed picture, how many texts make more sense and cohere better if they are read in this way” (1). As such, very few of Barker’s assertions in this book are beyond dispute. However, as long as we are sympathetic to her trial-and-error approach, many of her claims can be seen as both provocative and plausible. Unfortunately, the plausible contentions in this book, such as that the Deuteronomistic tradition distorted and suppressed the temple-centred mysticism of the older cult (chapter 1), and that the temple-mystical Servant Songs in Isaiah were treated as prophetic of Christ by the New Testament authors and the first Christians (chapter 5), are overshadowed by a great deal of dubious reductionism and oversights concerning scholarly literature on Barker’s part.

That the book is presented as An Introduction designed for a popular audience does not excuse the unnerving lack of references to secondary sources. In fact, one of the great virtues of popular publications is that they introduce lay readers to a broader scholarly debate as well as the primary sources themselves. Yet the entire book cites only nineteen secondary sources, usually no more than once. Instead, Barker prefers to direct readers to other research from her own corpus. It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that Barker is making herself something of a martyr, presenting her work as eternally valuable but perpetually ignored. The fact is that her work is original, but not that original; or at least, not as original as when she first published her thesis on Christian theological origins back in the 1980s. In seeking to promote her methodology of “temple theology” over this period, Barker has necessarily had occasion to repeat her arguments many times. While this is no doubt necessary if the enterprise is to succeed, the downside is that each new publication is destined to be less original than the last. As such, rather than setting herself up as a lone scholar in the promotion of temple theology, Barker would do well to recognize where her thesis has been acknowledged and engaged with. Even where her approach has not been directly dealt with, the general theme of the Temple in antiquity is currently a hot topic among academics, and this ought to be reflected in footnotes at least. For example, how a book entitled Temple Mysticism has failed to cite any publications of Rachel Elior or Christopher Morray-Jones, among many others, is beyond me. On the other hand, it is nonetheless true that her work has not been treated as seriously among scholars as it deserves, perhaps owing to some outdated and unscholarly prejudice towards the research of those outside the academy.

In her attempt to avoid such repetition, Barker has in this instance extended the scope of temple mysticism beyond its proper bounds. Chapter 2, “The One” (on the primordial unity of the Holy of Holies and the angels within the godhead), and chapter 3, “The Many” (on the problem of one or many Creators, or pre-existent divine beings, according to Genesis, Psalms, and various apocryphal texts), have the potential to be innovative and rigorous discussions of problematic philological details in a range of biblical and extra-biblical sources. However, in her determination to make the Jerusalem Temple the unique centre of virtually all early Christian religiosity, Barker makes the unwarranted claim that the most important elements in Greek religion and philosophy are actually derived from Jewish temple mysticism. Hence, any so-called “Christian-Platonism” is really only temple mysticism in disguise.

According to Barker, the highest state for an initiate of the Eleusinian mysteries was a state of “beholding”, while Psalm 17:15 reads, “I shall behold thy face in righteousness”. From little more than this, Barker concludes, “One of the identifying characteristics of a mystery religion, then, was established in the temple before 700 BCE” (42). Similarly, in a section entitled “Pythagoras” (48-53), Barker cites the late third to early fourth century CE report of Iamblichus which states that Pythagoras underwent some kind of initiation in “Syria”. According to Barker, since Syria would have included Judea, this means that Pythagoras would have become acquainted with Jewish temple mysticism. From this section onwards, Barker treats this report as historical fact. This is dubious to say the least as it is widely regarded that by the time of Iamblichus, Pythagoras had acquired a semi-divine mythological status, and very few “historical” accounts of his life are to be trusted. Nonetheless, Barker purports to identify numerous temple mystical themes in Pythagoras’s philosophy and cosmology, as well as in Plato’s Timaeus, in which Socrates’s interlocutor Timaeus is identified as Pythagorean. In reality, the examples Barker gives are of themes (e.g. fire, thrones, cubes, towers) that are of such a ubiquitous nature in ancient religion and cosmology that they can hardly be treated as evidence of historical connections.

The importance of highlighting this major flaw in Barker’s most recent effort to establish temple theology in the academy is not to deter potential readers, but rather to direct them to previous works by Barker, such as The Gate of Heaven (1991), and Temple Theology (2004), which are equally provocative, but not nearly as reductionistic. Temple Mysticism betrays a staggering lack of appreciation for the complex ways in which Judaism and Hellenism came to be combined by certain thinkers in milieus far removed in time and space from Isaiah’s temple setting. Hellenistic Jewish thinkers like Philo wished to understand and present Greek philosophy as the ultimate expression of the Torah in an attempt to embrace Hellenistic culture and learning without dispensing with a Jewish identity. Barker seems to construe such attempts as historical evidence that Greek philosophers were in fact the heirs to Jewish temple mysticism.

Nonetheless, there is still much that is good in Temple Mysticism: as usual with Barker’s research, the breadth of extra-biblical sources that she brings to bear on early Christianity is refreshing; there is also significant emphasis on the stages of translation of the Old Testament into Greek, but also into Hebrew, whereby the Masoretic Text from which we read the Old Testament is not the same Scripture that was read by Jesus, as the Qumran discoveries attest. This is an important historical point that I daresay many scholars, let alone lay readers, do not fully appreciate. But perhaps most impressive about Temple Mysticism, as with so many of Barker’s publications, is the results that present themselves when her hypothesis is put to the test on the New Testament.

To give just one example from many, Barker argues that the tradition found in the Life of Adam and Eve 12-17, in which Satan and his angels are thrown out of heaven for refusing to glorify Adam like the rest of the angels, is the background for Mark 1:13’s (and Luke 4:5-7’s) scene of Jesus in the wilderness after his baptism (137-138). In the first-century CE text, the Life of Adam and Eve, Adam asked God for the glory/throne that Satan had vacated, and he “persisted [for] forty days standing in repentance in the water of the Jordan” before his wish was granted. Likewise, in Mark 1, Jesus undergoes the “baptism of repentance” in the Jordan (1:4), has “the Spirit” descend on him (1:10), and is proclaimed the “Son” (1:11). Immediately afterwards in 1:13, Jesus spends forty days in the wilderness being tempted by Satan, “and he was with the wild beasts (θηρία); and the angels waited on him.” Barker suggests that these θηρία are after the type of the “living creatures” of the Merkabah, and hence the angelic host serve the mystically enthroned Jesus, the Second Adam, while Satan attempts to duplicitously win back his throne. There is no way to prove such interpretations, and some are rather more idiosyncratic than others, but it is this aspect of Barker’s project that deserves scholarly attention.

There are both very good things and very bad things about Temple Mysticism. Unfortunately, a lot of the good things are largely recapitulated from Barker’s earlier publications (chapter 4, “The Throne”, can substantially be found in The Gate of Heaven pp. 133-174), whereas many of the bad things are original to Temple Mysticism via Barker’s over-emphasis on the centrality of temple theology to New Testament thought at the expense of other historical and cultural factors.

Matthew Twigg
University of Oxford