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Chap. 23 provides a lengthy prayer of the wise man. He prays not to be overcome by gluttony (κοιλίας ὄρεξις) and lust (συνουσιασμός). A more literal rendering of the LXX text would be the longing or yearning of the belly. Thus the belly is seen as a seat of the desires; here obviously in an unfavourable sense. The noun ὄρεξις is often used of sexual passion in particular (Ant. 7:169; Rom. 1:27). The verb καταλαμΒάνεσθαι has here a hostile reference; the stomach is spoken of as an enemy from which the pious prays to be protected. Alongside the belly, the prayer mentions συνουσιασμός, which in this context refers to the temptation to illegitimate sexual intercourse, an issue which is elaborated from v. 16 on. The righteous considers himself under threat from two great inner powers, that of the belly (gluttony) and sex. The two are mentioned together, and represent the desires from which he asks God to protect him.
T. Rub. 2:1–3:8
In Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, T. Rub. 2:1–3:8 speaks of human beings as created with seven spirits; i.e. the faculties of breathing, seeing, hearing, speaking, tasting, procreating, and, first of all, life itself. Beliar, the chief of the demons, takes these faculties as opportunities to deceive; i.e. his seven spirits of deceit (τὸ πνεεμα τῆς πλάνης). In 3:2, which is probably part of an interpolation, Beliar is said to introduce the spirits of deceit into the natural faculties.
Epicurus – the popularity and reputation of a doctrine
We have seen that that the belly-topos worked within the ancient discussions on mastery of pleasures. The belly was a catchword for a life controlled by pleasures. The discussion on mastering the passions was closely linked to the question of the highest good (τὸ ἀγαθόν, τὸ ἄριστον, summum bonum) and happy life. This is the focus of lengthy discussions among the moral philosophers, and in particular between Stoics and Epicureans. In brief, the Stoics claimed that virtue was the highest good, and a reliable guide to a happy life. Epicurus and his followers claimed that this role was played by pleasure and living without pain.Since we have already seen that Epicurus' philosophy is a rather important element of the discussion on mastering the desires, it is natural now to turn to the impact of his philosophy.
Epicurus was born on the island of Samos in the eastern Aegean in 341 BC. He established his school in Athens (306 BC), the so-called ‘Garden Philosophy’, which might be taken to denote the master's emphasis on a pleasant life as well as a secluded life. Epicurus died about 270 BC. In his last will and testament, the philosopher entrusts his property to his friends, so as to preserve the life of the Garden (Diogenes Laertius, Philosophers 10:16–22). Very little of Epicurus' writings is extant. Diogenes Laertius devotes Book 10 in his Lives of the Eminent Philosophers to Epicurus.
I have incurred many debts in the course of this project. The present study was written during my sabbatical (1998/1999); I am grateful to the Norwegian Lutheran School of Theology (Det teologiske Menighetsfakultet, Oslo), where I teach, for this opportunity. I owe thanks to the library there for patiently providing me with the necessary material. Most of the work was, however, carried out in Cambridge. I am very grateful for the hospitality and access to the library which was given me at Tyndale House. This excellent library for Biblical research made it possible for me to finish most of the work during my time there. I owe special thanks to the head librarian at Tyndale House, Dr David I. Brewer as well as his staff. I am grateful for the fellowship I enjoyed at Tyndale House, and to the scholars who were there together with me. This fellowship stimulated and contributed in various ways to my investigation. I owe special thanks to the Warden, Dr Bruce W. Winter, for his willingness to share his knowledge with me and to bring relevant literature to my attention, and for having introduced me to the Cambridge University Library as well as the library of the Classical Faculty. Without access to these libraries and the kind assistance which I found there, this investigation would not have been possible. These Cambridge days bring to mind also the kind hospitality which I enjoyed in the house of my hostess Mrs Veronica Becho.
Any description of Jewish geographical conceptions must deal with the Table of Nations in Genesis 10 and the influential tradition to which it gave rise. For Genesis 10, along with a few other biblical data, provided the main source of information for latter Jewish and Christian attempts to describe world geography and ethnography. As we shall see in Chapter 7, the Genesis 10 tradition arguably had a major influence on the medieval mappaemundi.
There is a certain irony in this Table of Nations tradition. For, although Genesis 10 presents the reader with a static view of the world and its inhabitants after the flood, the Genesis 10 tradition itself underwent numerous changes in the course of its centuries-long transmission. As Elias Bikerman observes in his justly famous article, “Origines Gentium” (1952):
The Bible taught the unity of mankind. We are all sons of Adam, and the chosen people is only a secondary branch on the common stem. This meek idea made pre-history static for the Hebrews. … The Jews could mechanically transfer an old name to some new people. First the Macedonians, then the Romans received the name of Kittim, which originally referred to the inhabitants of Citium (Cyprus). Such identification is purely nominal.
Hence, although the Table of Nations long remained the undisputed standard of world geography and ethnography, it nevertheless underwent a process of shaping, translation, and development to meet changing historical circumstances.
In the last chapter, we saw that Luke-Acts contains a view of the nations rooted in Genesis 9–11, particularly as mediated through the Book of Jubilees. In Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71, we find additional evidence for this argument. For the Pseudo-Clementine text is probably the earliest extensive commentary on Luke-Acts, and it contains a similar view of the nations rooted in Genesis 9–11, particularly as mediated through the Book of Jubilees. Some of these comparisons have already been noted in Chapter 3. In the following, we shall examine Rec. 1.27–71 in its own right. Then, we will attempt to draw further comparisons between the Pseudo-Clementine text and Luke-Acts.
Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions 1.27–71
The Pseudo-Clementines have attracted considerable attention as a source for the development of Christianity in general and Jewish Christianity in particular. Ever since the Tübingen School in the nineteenth century, many attempts have been made to unravel the literary complexities of the Ps.-Clementines and to get back to the supposed Jewish–Christian source material. Within the Ps.-Clementine Recognitions, 1.27–71 has been isolated as a Jewish–Christian source, which can possibly be dated to ca. 100–15 CE, somewhere in the traditional land of Israel.
Arnold Stötzel dates the source between 70 and 135 CE, because it expects a future return to the Land. Against this suggestion, Jones argues that Rec. 1.27–71 employs Hegesippus' work (written ca. 173–90 CE) and seems to presuppose the edict of Hadrian (Rec. 1.39.3). Hence, Jones himself dates the composition to about 200 CE.[…]
This book seeks to trace the appropriation of a particular “Old Testament pseudepigraphon” – the Book of Jubilees – in early Christian sources from the New Testament (NT) to Hippolytus (and beyond). More specifically, our study focuses on the reception of Jubilees 8–9, an expansion on the so-called Table of Nations in Genesis 10 (1 Chronicles 1). There are three primary motivations for undertaking such a study at this particular time. First, my previous work on the Table of Nations tradition has led me to the conclusion that Jubilees 8–9 had a powerful influence on geographical conceptions found not only in Second-Temple Jewish sources but also in early Christian writings. In order further to articulate and substantiate this thesis, the present study delves more thoroughly than before into some of the important primary source material. For instance, our study gives greater scope to a Hellenistic epigram that opens up the possibility of Jewish cartographic activity in the Second-Temple period (Chapter 1). The study also augments my previous work by reconsidering the relationship of Jubilees 8–9 both to the lost “Book of Noah” and to other writings of the Second-Temple period (Chapter 2). The study greatly expands our earlier discussion on the geography of Luke-Acts (Chapter 3) and penetrates more deeply into early Christian literature outside the NT (Chapters 4-6). Finally, the study ventures a foray into the medieval mappaemundi as possibly our earliest extant cartographic remains of the Jubilees 8–9 tradition (Chapter 7).
A most interesting and enigmatic cartographic text has apparently escaped the notice of historians of cartography – an epigram of Philip of Thessalonica, who wrote in Rome during the reigns of Tiberius (14–37 CE) and Gaius (37–41 CE). This epideictic epigram (Anth. Pal. 9.778) praises an artistically woven tapestry that was sent as a gift from a queen to an unnamed, reigning Caesar, presumably one of the aforementioned Roman emperors. The tapestry itself is said to display the inhabited world and the surrounding Ocean. We are evidently dealing here with a world “map” done in either wool or linen, making it perhaps one of the earliest recorded mappaemundi in the literal sense of the term (i.e., “cloth of the world”). It should be noted here that the image of weaving is used extensively in connection with weaving narratives, so literary and visual productions, in which the world may be described, are neatly linked.
Philip's tantalizingly brief poem prompts several questions. Who was the queen who made the tapestry and sent it as a gift? What picture of the world are we to imagine on the tapestry? What is the cartographic source(s) for the “map”? In seeking to answer these questions, however provisionally, the present chapter opens our discussion of Jewish geographical conceptions with a cameo of the subject at hand.
We continue our survey of the early Christian reception of the Genesis Table of Nations tradition by examining the work of Theophilus of Antioch. This second-century Greek apologist used the authoritative Book of Jubilees in order to combat pagan philosophy. In the process, he clearly alludes to Jubilees 8–9 and perhaps even to an accompanying map.
Theophilus was a bishop of Antioch in the late second century (169–77 CE). He completed Ad Autolycum, his only extant work, sometime after Marcus Aurelius had died (3.28), that is, after 180 CE, during the reign of Commodus (180–92 CE). Ad Autolycum provides some biographical information about its author. Theophilus lived near the Tigris and Euphrates rivers (Autol. 2.24), converted to Christianity by reading the Greek OT (1.14), and then lived among Christians who were an opposed and denigrated minority (3.4).
Theophilus was very likely a “Jewish Christian,” however carefully that vexed term must be defined. Whereas he explicitly states that he is a Christian (1.12), his Jewishness must be inferred from the text. Several lines of evidence can be adduced. First, Theophilus presupposes that the Law and the Prophets are “our writings” (3.29), that Abraham is “our Patriarch” (3.24) and “our forefather” (3.28), as is David (3.25, 28). Likewise, the Hebrews of the exodus story are “our forefathers” (3.20). These first-person plurals indicate Theophilus' identification with the Jewish people, and they are not merely an extension of Pauline usage, in which the reference to Abraham as “our forefather” and “our father” includes believing Gentiles (Rom. 4:1, 11–12).
Having investigated the Jewish tradition steming from the Table of Nations in Genesis 10, especially that reflected in Jubilees 8–9, we are now in a position to consider the Christian reception of that tradition. There is, of course, no firm dividing line between “Jewish” and “Christian” in the first century, and what eventually came to be known as “Christianity” developed originally within a Jewish matrix. Hence, we turn now to the NT with the expectation of an essential continuity of tradition, without assuming complete correspondence at every point. Since the Jubilees 8–9 tradition was obviously in circulation during the Second-Temple period, we shall not be surprised if it influenced the NT as well. This is at least a possibility that can be tested. The two-volume work of Luke-Acts provides an excellent test case because of its strongly geographic and ethnic orientation – the two foci of the Jubilees tradition. In the following, we shall examine in turn both Luke's Gospel and the Book of Acts, being careful in the process also to note some of their overarching themes.
The Gospel of Luke
Jesus' Genealogy and the Table of Nations (Luke 3:23–38)
Our investigation of the possible reception of Genesis 10 tradition in Luke begins with the genealogy of Jesus (Lk. 3:23–38). There has been much discussion about the possible source(s) of the Lukan genealogy. Some scholars have traced it back to the Septuagint version of either Genesis 5 and 11, or 1 Chronicles 1ff.
The foregoing study has sought to trace the trajectory of an important geographic tradition from its OT and Jewish roots, through its reception in the NT and other early Christian literature, and on into the medieval mappaemundi. It remains here merely to summarize our main findings and to suggest their possible significance for the historical investigation of the NT.
In Chapter 1, we opened our discussion with an epigram of Philip of Thessalonia that not only provided an example of the methodological issues involved with a discussion of Jewish geographical lore, but also contributed valuable new insights into the possibility of Jewish cartographic activity in the Second-Temple period. The epigram praises an artistic tapestry, made presumably by Kypros, the last queen of Judea, and offered as a gift to Emperor Gaius. Woven into the fabric of this tapestry was a very impressive image of the world dominated by Caesar. Given the fact that a Hellenistic dynast like Kypros would have traveled with equal facility between Greco-Roman and Jewish worlds, we considered it a promising hypothesis that Kypros may have blended both Roman and Jewish traditions into her representation of the world, resulting in a novel, hybrid form – perhaps an Orientalized rendition of the famous Agrippa map in Rome.
In subsequent chapters, we set out to learn more about Jewish geographical lore in the Second-Temple period and its reception in early Christian tradition.
Finally, our investigation comes full circle back to its point of departure. In Chapter 1, we used the Kypros mappamundi as a means of introducing the whole vast subject of Jewish geographical conceptions. Then, in Chapters 2-6, we examined the Jewish geographical tradition that probably most influenced Jewish and Christian geographical conceptions through the centuries, that is, Genesis 10 and the Table of Nations tradition, in particular Jubilees 8–9. In the present chapter, we return to the Kypros map to explore the possible relevance of our investigation for understanding the medieval mappaemundi. With the discussion of Chapters 2-6 in view, it is almost inevitable that speculation should lead one to consider a possible link, however tenuous and indirect, between the Kypros map and the mappaemundi. For if the Kypros map reflects Jewish geographical traditions, and if Christian sources received and transmitted the same Jewish geographical traditions, then we may plausibly ask whether these traditions influenced the medieval mappaemundi. This possibility is strengthened by the fact that the Book of Jubilees was preserved in a Latin version, dating to the fifth to sixth century. Moreover, Greek Jubilees had long circulated in the form of extracts in many disparate works, especially the Christian chronographic tradition, as we have seen.
Given the many uncertainties and gaps in our knowledge, the purpose of this chapter must be tentative and cautious, exploring the possibilities and opening up new visas for future investigation. Our research is complicated by at least three major factors.
The present study represents the fruit of my Sabbatical research in 1996–97, during which I had the very pleasant opportunity of working both in the Oxford Centre for Hebrew and Jewish Studies and in the Evangelisch-theologisches Seminar of the University of Tübingen. This research would have been impossible without fellowships from the OCHJS and the Alexander von Humboldt-Stiftung and a research grant from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. My sincere thanks go to these institutions for their generous support.
I also owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to many individuals for their help and encouragement along the way. The following scholars deserve special mention in this regard: William Adler, Peter Barber, Richard Bauckham, Dean Béchard, Peder Borgen, Benjamin Braude, Katherine Clarke, Catherine Delano Smith, Evelyn Edson, Jörg Frey, Martin Hengel, Chris Howgego, F. Stanley Jones, Nikos Kokkinos, Fergus Millar, Matthew Morgenstern, Stanley Porter, Ferdinand Rohrhirsch, Peter Stuhlmacher, James C. VanderKam, John Williams, and David A. Woodward.
I would like to express my thanks to the staff at Cambridge University Press for facilitating the publication of this book, and to Susanne Staryk and Nathan Van Seters for checking the manuscript and preparing the indexes.
Finally, I would like to express my love and appreciation for my wife Gail and our two children, Kathryn and Elizabeth, whose flexibility and spirit of adventure made this Sabbatical year not only possible but also thoroughly enjoyable.
As we saw in Chapter 5, the second-century Greek Apologist, Theophilus of Antioch, may give us the earliest explicit reference to Greek Jubilees. There is also evidence that Greek Jubilees remained popular in the following centuries (cf. P. Oxy. 4365). This may be due in part to the growth of the Christian world/universal chronicles, which frequently incorporated Jubilees 8–9 material at the beginning of larger chronographies. While Eusebius of Caesarea (ca. 260–340 CE) is often acknowledged as the first to establish the format and style of the Christian world chronicle, forerunners of his chronographic approach are found in the work of Sextus Julius Africanus and of Hippolytus, who wrote within fifteen years of one another (ca. 220–35 CE). Since we know relatively little about the lost Chronographies of Africanus, except through fragments that have come down to us in other authors, we will do well to concentrate on the Chronicon of Hippolytus, which survives basically intact.
Given the paucity of our direct textual evidence for the Greek version of Jubilees, it is surprising that Hippolytus' Chronicon (234/5 CE) has not been given more consideration as a source for that version, for the Chronicon contains a large section called the “Division of the Earth” (∆ɩαµερɩσμòς τῆς γῆς, §§ 44–239) which, like Jubilees 8–9, covers the parceling of the earth among the sons of Noah based on the Table of Nations in Genesis 10. The title of this section probably derives from Gen.