Monday, January 20, 2025

Critics giving Josephus a precedence over Luke

by Damien F. Mackey “Josephus, supposedly, wrote his autobiography toward the end of his life, ca. the beginning of the second century CE. So the author of Luke, if he were emulating Josephus’s passage would, therefore, have written this passage later in the second century CE.!”. Michael Lockwood Following on from my perennial theme, recalled again in my recent article: Vespasian ‘becoming a god’ (8) Vespasian 'becoming a god' about scholars always, in knee-jerk reaction, giving chronological precedence to pagan legends over the (Hebrew) biblical texts, e.g: - Hammurabi’s Code supposed to have influenced Mosaïc Law; - Akhnaton’s Hymn to the Aten having influenced King David’s Psalm 104. - Etc., etc., etc., ad nauseam, I now find, too, that such-minded critics have long been suggesting that the later Josephus had influenced the earlier Luke. That’s right, it immediately fails the common sense, pub test! And even more so if Qumranic expert, Fr. Jean Carmignac, was correct in dating the Gospel of Luke to “… between 58 and 60 [AD] …. But the earliest dates are clearly more probable: … (Greek) Luke a little after 50 [AD]”. This is decades before Josephus wrote his major works some time after 70 AD! So why not argue things the other way around? It would make more (common) sense. There are various instances of thematic convergence between Josephus and Luke, with Josephus considered to have influenced Luke. That is the stance that Robinson Smith, for instance, took, as far back as 1913, as adjudged by his title “Fresh Light on the Synoptic Problem: Josephus a Lukan Source” (The American Journal of Theology, Vol. 17, No. 4 (Oct., 1913), pp. 614-621 (8 pages)). Now, more than a century later, Michael Lockwood is found pursuing the same theme, claiming that Luke’s fictitious, “mythical” account of the boy Jesus teaching in the Temple had its origins in Josephus’s own boyhood experience. Thus Lockwood wrote last year (2024), in his article: “Luke 2:41-50 Fictionally Imitates a Passage in Historian Josephus’s Autobiography”: Jesus, at age 12, goes into the Jerusalem Temple and enlightens the priests; With Josephus, age 14, high priests & others come out of the Temple to be enlightened by him! Luke 2:41-50: ¶ 41 Now it was the practice of his parents to go to Jerusalem every year for the Passover festival; 42 and when he was twelve, they made the pilgrimage as usual. 43 When the festive season was over and they started for home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents did not know of this, 44 but thinking that he was with the party they journeyed on for a whole day, and only then did they begin looking for him among their friends and relations. 45 As they could not find him they returned to Jerusalem to look for him; 46 and after three days they found him sitting in the temple surrounded by the teachers, listening to them and putting questions; 47 and all who heard him were amazed at his intelligence and the answers he gave. 48 His parents were astonished to see him there, and his mother said to him, ‘My son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.’ 49 ‘What made you search?’ he said. ‘Did you not know I was bound to be in my Father’s house?’ 50 But they did not understand what he meant. – The New English Bible Josephus, The Life of Flavius Josephus, trans. William Whiston, p. 1: ¶ Moreover, when I was a child, and about fourteen years of age, I was commended by all for the love I had to learning; on which account the high priests and principal men of the city came then frequently to me together, in order to know my opinion about the accurate understanding of points of the law. That Josephus, at the young age of fourteen, was commended for his love of learning would not be particularly extraordinary. But what follows, in this same passage taken from the beginning of his autobiography, certainly is extraordinary! That high priests of the Jerusalem Temple came to him often with the “principle” (i.e., most learned) men of the city to learn his opinion, mind you, on “points of law”, seems a great exaggeration! The “law”, here, stands for the whole of the Pentateuch, of course. Josephus, supposedly, wrote his autobiography toward the end of his life, ca. the beginning of the second century CE. So the author of Luke, if he were emulating Josephus’s passage would, therefore, have written this passage later in the second century CE. Employing Mimesis Criticism, the Luke passage, above, would be treated as hypertext (the passage which alludes in some way to another passage written earlier, the hypotext). The hypotext, above, would be the passage from Josephus’s ‘Autobiography’. Is this a clear example of fictionalized mimetic dependence of a passage in Luke’s gospel on the historical material written by Josephus? OR Did the notorious 3rd-4th century CE Christian historian, Eusebius, interpolate the wise-child episode into Josephus’s ‘Autobiography’, attempting to harmonize it with the mythical episode of Luke 2:41-50 ? ….

Vespasian ‘becoming a god’

by Damien F. Mackey “Hence, when Vespasian was dying of dysentery, he quipped, “Oh dear, I think I’m becoming a god!”.” Bethany Williams The emperor Vespasian, considered to have been a pragmatic commoner who made good, appears to have been more down-to-earth and sensible - having a greater degree of common sense - than those moderns who think that this pagan’s life must have been a template for the Gospel accounts of Jesus Christ. As I have so often pointed out, whenever there is an ancient pagan legend that appears to have, to a greater or lesser extent, something in common with the Bible, the knee-jerk reaction, almost universally, is to say that the Hebrews borrowed from the pagans (be they Akkadians, Egyptians, Hittites, Babylonians, Greeks, or Romans). This is largely a problem of chronology, as we shall now find. Thus, for instance, the Mosaïc Law was influenced by the great Hammurabi of Babylon and his famous Code. Except that it wasn’t. Moses pre-dated Hammurabi by half a millennium. See e.g. my article: Hammurabi and Zimri-Lim as Contemporaries of Solomon (7) Hammurabi and Zimri-Lim as Contemporaries of Solomon And The Hymn to Aten of pharaoh Akhnaton (Akhenaten) influenced King David’s Psalm 104. Except that it didn’t. King David well pre-dated Akhnaton. See e.g. my article: David and the Philistines (7) David and the Philistines And the legend of Sargon of Akkad as a baby afloat in a basket influenced the Exodus account of Moses. Here, at least, the pagan ruler clearly did pre-date the paralleled Hebrew incident. However, the legend itself did not, since it belonged in writing to the c. 600 BC time of Ashurbanipal, which is roughly a millennium after Moses. There are many other instances of this same pattern: A somewhat comparable pagan and Hebrew tale, with the former inevitably given the chronological precedence over the latter, but wrongly, since a properly revised chronology will determine it to be the other way around. Now, here we have Vespasian, a late contemporary of Jesus Christ by any estimate, and afflicted with dysentery no less, being re-cast by modern writers as a miracle-working messiah from whose life the Evangelists supposedly compiled their respective portraits of the true Messiah, Jesus Christ. John Nelson, for instance, has rushed in where angels might fear to tread with his (2024) article: Jesus and Vespasian: The Public Ministry Is the Markan Jesus distinctly Flavian? In the first century, there was a Son of God whose arrival brought ‘good news’ throughout the Roman world. He possessed miraculous powers, healing a blind man with spittle; he provided generous benefaction, feeding thousands; and he was indirectly responsible for the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE, following which he embarked on a triumphal procession, decked in kingly array. After his death, he underwent an apotheosis, and was deified. His name was Vespasian - and in 69 CE, his rise to power spelt an end to the rule of Julio-Claudian Emperors and the beginning of his own Flavian dynasty. Those interested in the Gospels will immediately note that Vespasian’s ascendancy overlaps with the conventional dating of Mark, around 70 CE. It would be no surprise, then, if Mark shaped his story with Vespasian to some degree in mind. Mackey’s comment: “It would be no surprise” only that this would be the typical academic knee-jerk reaction! A most enlightened biblical commentator, Qumranic scholar Fr. Jean Carmignac, however, had dated the Synoptic Gospels to an era decades before Vespasian’s floruit: Fr Jean Carmignac dates Gospels early (8) Fr Jean Carmignac dates Gospels early “The latest dates that can be admitted are around 50 for Mark . . . around 55 for Completed Mark, around 55-60 for Matthew, between 58 and 60 for Luke. But the earliest dates are clearly more probable: Mark around 42, Completed Mark around 45, (Hebrew) Matthew around 50, (Greek) Luke a little after 50”. See also my related article: Carsten Peter Thiede on dating of New Testament (8) Carsten Peter Thiede on dating of New Testament John Nelson continues: Scholars have long noted parallels between Vespasian and Mark’s Jesus. But more recently, Adam Winn has gone further to argue that Vespasian’s life comprises a hermeneutical key in unlocking the Gospel. …. When we read the Gospel ‘under’ Caesar, various unusual aspects of Mark’s narrative are thrown into clear relief. In this series, we have seen how the evangelists drew upon familiar models in composing their stories. Luke drew upon aspects of the story of Aesop, John drew upon Dionysus, and both Matthew and Luke seem to have employed a familiar model in their infancy narratives, the sort told of Augustus and Alexander the Great. Mackey’s comment: As already said: “It would be no surprise” only that this would be the typical academic knee-jerk reaction! Did Mark also draw on aspects of Vespasian’s life to compose his story of Jesus? In this two-parter, we take a look at seven Vespasian-like features of Mark’s Jesus, beginning – in this post – with Jesus’ public ministry. 1. The Good News of God’s Son It does not take long before we stumble into imperial imagery in Mark. Note the incipit: ‘The beginning of the good news (euangelion) of Jesus Christ [Son of God]’. …. For those familiar with the Jewish Bible, these words would recall the ‘good news’ of Isaiah. But for all readers, the term ‘good news’ also had an imperial flavour. Compare, for example, the opening words of Mark with the Priene Calendar Inscription. The stone inscription, from 9 BCE, proclaims the birthday of the ‘god’ and ‘saviour’ Emperor Augustus as the ‘beginning of the good news for the world…’ …. Mackey’s comment: Yes, indeed, but does not the Book of Isaiah well pre-date “9 BCE” by any reasonable estimate? The term ‘good news’ was also used in reference to the accomplishments of later Emperors. For example, the Jewish historian Josephus notes that upon Vespasian’s accession to the throne, ‘every city celebrated the good news (euangelia) and offered sacrifices on his behalf’ (War 4.10.6 §618). From Mark’s opening sentence, it appears that Jesus, not the Emperor, is the one who brings good tidings to the world This counter-imperial claim could also be heard in Mark’s reference to Jesus as God’s son. Whether or not the words ‘Son of God’ in Mark’s incipit are original, Mark refers to Jesus as the Son of God at key moments throughout the text (e.g. 1:11; 9:7). This is significant, for the Emperor was also known as God’s son: divi filius. By announcing the good news of the Messiah – the saviour – who is God’s son, readers would immediately see that Jesus is being fashioned in imperial array. 2. Healing by Spittle The concept of the ‘good news’ about a salvific ‘Son of God’ may not tie Jesus to any particular Emperor. Yet in Jesus’ healing ministry, we find something more distinctly Vespasian-like. In his Life of Vespasian, Suetonius reports that Vespasian had healing powers. What is striking is the affinity Vespasian’s miracle bears to Jesus’ miracles in Mark: A man of the people, who was blind, and another who was lame, together came to [Vespasian] as he sat on the tribunal, begging for the help for their disorders which Serapis had promised in a dream; for the god declared that Vespasian would restore the eyes, if he would spit upon them, and give strength to the leg, if he would deign to touch with his heel. Though he had hardly any faith that this could possibly succeed, and therefore shrank even from making the attempt, he was at last prevailed upon by his friends and tried both things in public before a large crowd; and with success… (7.2-3). For a long time, scholars have wondered why Mark’s Jesus heals a blind man using spittle. This is not his usual modus operandi when it comes to healing. If Mark is casting Jesus as a Vespasian-esque figure, however, it begins to make sense. According to Oxford biblical scholar Eric Eve, this story of Vespasian’s healing arose at the end of 69 or early 70 CE. …. At the time, it was used as propaganda to legitimate his ascension to the throne. Moreover, for Jewish ears, this scene could easily have sounded like a usurpation of traditional messianic hopes. Two elements of this context should prick our ears. First, many scholars date Mark just after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE. If this is correct, then Mark was written at just the right time to be influenced by the Vespasian episode. This Vespasian propaganda would have been floating around Mark’s setting. Second, if Vespasian’s healing of the blind might have sounded a little too close to the fulfilment of Messianic expectations, we can understand why Mark placed the healing episode where he does: at the start of his teaching block of material (chs. 8-10). For, as is well known, the gradual healing of the blind man, which opens this section, serves as a metaphor for the disciples’ realisation that Jesus is the Messiah. The big difference is the type of King that Vespasian and Jesus will be. While Vespasian inaugurated his rule through military victory, Jesus’ own kingship will be manifest in his own suffering and death. 3. Jesus’ Power over ‘Legion’ It is not as though Jesus is without his own conquest in Mark, however. Possible clues that Jesus is a counter-Vespasian are also left in another miracle-story: Jesus’ power over the demon named ‘Legion,’ which he chases into a herd of pigs. None of the Roman Emperors were thought to be exorcists. But several things about this story might make us think of Rome generally, and Vespasian in particular. To begin with, the term ‘legion’ denotes a cohort of 6,000 Roman soldiers. While this connection between the demonic forces and Rome may seem incidental, it is one that was also made in the first-century by John, in the book of Revelation. Strengthening this link, Mark uses war-like terminology to describe the legion of pigs. …. For example, he uses the verb ὁρμάω, a word which often denotes a military charge, to describe the rush of pigs into the sea. And he uses the term agele (άγέλη), which is often used of a military troop, to describe the ‘herd’ (5:13). None of this may seem especially Vespasian-like, beyond the general point that Vespasian’s claim to the throne was martial rather than hereditary. But a further detail may betray a connection to Vespasian: Vespasian was in charge of the Roman legion which destroyed Gerasa during the Jewish revolt. And the banner that the tenth legion carried as they destroyed the city was that of the bore - a pig! …. Early readers may therefore have seen here a thinly veiled anti-Vespasian critique. While Vespasian had control of physical legions, Jesus had total control of a ‘legion’ of demons which, in its location and symbolism, evoked Vespasian. 4. Nature Miracles A fainter set of imperial echos may also be heard in Jesus’ ‘nature miracles.’ Take, for example, Jesus’ ability to control the waves and walk on water. There are clear allusions here to YHWH’s distinct ability in the Hebrew Bible to control the sea. But some of the Roman Emperors were also believed to have ruled the waves. Caesar Augustus, for example, was said to have brought peace to the sea. As Philo writes, “This is the Caesar who calmed the torrential storms on every side... This is he who cleared the sea of pirate ships and filled it with merchant vessels” (Gaius, 145-46). ….7 …. The Roman Emperors were also known for their benefaction, supplying money and grain in times of need. As ‘Father of the Country’, Caesar Augustus claims in his Res Augusta to have given out generous supplies of grain in times of hunger (15.1-4; 18.1). Similarly, when Vespasian secured the throne, the city of Rome only had ten days of grain left. To save the population from starvation, the Emperor imported grain from Alexandria, a city regarded as his personal possession. …. Mackey’s comment: In some of this, John Nelson appears to me to be drawing a very long bow and to be desperately clutching at straws. Vespasian also laid a tax on urinals, causing no end of discomfort for Romans with weak bladders, and, should I say it, suffering from dysentery? For his harsh taxation, many have labelled Vespasian “autocratic”. While they do not provide a close parallel, some of these imperial actions may be faintly heard in Jesus’ own benefaction: his generous supply of fish and loaves to the masses in Mark’s feeding narratives. This affinity would be particularly apparent if the traditional authorship of Mark in Rome is correct, as Winn has argued at length. 5. The Messianic Secret Finally, the idea that Mark’s Jesus is Vespasian-like may also help to unravel a curious thread which runs through Mark: the so-called ‘messianic secret.’ This is the tendency of Jesus to keep his identity a secret and demand secrecy from others too. In recent scholarship, the Messianic secret has been read as less about secrecy and more as Jesus’ intentional resistance to receiving honour. …. There are a number of healing episodes, for example, in which Jesus stands as a patron would to a client. But instead of receiving honour for his benefaction – as one might expect of an ancient client – Jesus commands those he has healed to remain silent (e.g. 1:40-15; 7:31-37). This is an intriguing reading, but there is a problem with it: it is not sustained throughout the Gospel. While Jesus at times deflects honour, at others he embraces it (e.g. 1:21-28; 11:10). …. How can we explain this inconsistency? Winn has argued that seeing Jesus as an Emperor-type can help us. …. For like Jesus, the Emperor was regularly known to deflect honour, as well as to receive it. In a strategic move for the Princeps, the Emperor would give the impression to freedom-loving Romans that he was merely a “first among equals” by rejecting honour. Vespasian, for example, was hesitant to accept the title ‘Father of his Country’ or his tribunician powers (Vesp. 12). …. He also seems to have ended the traditional practice of Romans worshiping the guardian spirit, or “genius” of the living emperor, which had been instituted by Caligula. …. Some readers of Mark may therefore have understood Jesus’ refusal to accept honour as a Vespasian-esque move. …. Far from keeping his identity a total secret, Jesus – like the Emperor Vespasian – at times embraced and at others deferred the honour his elevated status entailed. …. Conclusion Vespasianic miracle legends are nothing more than appropriated pagan versions of the earlier Gospels recording the unrivalled life of Jesus of Nazareth.

Saturday, January 18, 2025

Père M-J. Lagrange’s exegetical blancmange

by Damien F. Mackey “To take the Genesis account as historical information … its value is simply nil in informing us about what happened “in the night of times”.” M. Lagrange Dr. Dominque Tassot, writing an article, “The Influence of Geology on Catholic Exegesis”, for the Kolbe Center for the Study of Creation, tells us something about the opinions of M. Lagrange: http://kolbecenter.org/the-influence-of-geology-on-catholic-exegesis/ …. On June 30, 1909, the Pontifical Biblical Commission granted liberty to Catholic exegetes to consider the word “yom” either in its proper meaning or in a broader meaning (sensu improprio) of indeterminate duration (DS 2128). In 1896, Fr Lagrange (who had founded Jerusalem’s Biblical College in 1893) rejected “concordism”, considering that the hexameron days and geological periods did not correspond. The shaping of the Earth went on a long time after the appearance of life; plants and animals developed in parallel. But remains established the fact that the Earth took a considerable time to form. We renounced forever the historic precise duration of six 24 hours days. …. My comment: The ‘Six Days’ of Genesis One, real 24-hour days, have nothing whatsoever to do with the duration of God’s work of creation, and it is futile to attempt to make them fit so-called scientific views about origins, such as the ‘Big Bang’, or an evolutionary-based geology. On this, see e.g. my article: What exactly is Creation Science? Part One: Our Western obsession with ‘Science’ https://www.academia.edu/35676906/What_exactly_is_Creation_Science_Part_One_Our_Western_obsession_with_Science Some have observed that the ‘Six Days’ (Hexaëmeron) may be a revelation of a creation already effected. Dr. Tassot continues: The further influence of Lagrange on Catholic exegesis is indisputable: he devised the three main ways to render the presence of scientific errors in the Bible acceptable. These were set out in five lectures given at the Catholic Institute of Toulouse a century ago, in November 1902, later published under the title The Historical Method. I will not dispute Lagrange’s dedication to the Church and the Bible. But we will touch here upon the direct influence of geology on the exegesis of the 20th century through Lagrange’s ideas. When a schoolboy, Lagrange used to wander with his uncle, a geologist, in the foothills of the Alps, where he lived. Maybe this explains how readily and completely he accepted the long ages, not only for the earth but also for the history of Man. He wrote in the Biblical Review, which he founded: Mankind is older than one believed when piously collecting the wrecks of remembrances assumed to be primitive. (…) Humanly speaking, oral transmission from the beginning of the world is supremely unbelievable. (…) To take the Genesis account as historical information, … its value is simply nil in informing us about what happened “in the night of times.” So Lagrange invented a new and paradoxical concept: “Legendary primitive history.” The Fall, the Curse, the Flood are neither true history nor simple myth. Genesis gives an account based on a “generating fact” but inevitably distorted and downgraded by the transmission through thousands of generations. Another such concept is that of “historical appearances.” Here Lagrange tried to transpose to history what Leo XIIIth said in Providentissimus Deus about astronomy (the Galileo affair!), that the Bible speaks “according to appearances.” From a Thomistic perspective, our senses give a true path to knowledge. But in the Kantian perspective of that time, “appearance” meant the opposite of reality. In 1919, Lagrange abandoned his theory of “historical appearances,” but the idea remained that the Bible had to be confined to the sphere of religion, and this was indeed the most secure way to prevent any conflict with science. The third method proposed by Lagrange to explain supposed natural science errors in the Bible was the theory of “literary genres.” The idea underlying this explanation was that one does not deceive when simply asserting the false, but only when teaching it: All that the sacred writers teach, God also teaches and this is true. But what do the sacred writers really teach? What they affirm categorically. But—it has been said for a long time—the Bible is not a collection of categorical theses or affirmations. There are such literary genres where nothing is taught concerning the reality of the facts. They only serve as basis for a moral teaching.” …. [And further:] “It is impossible that God teaches errors. Of course [there are places in] the Bible, where everybody is speaking errors; but it is impossible that an intelligent examination of the Bible compels us to conclude that God taught errors.” …. It is obvious that an intelligent use of these three methods is sufficient to get rid of any difficult passage of the Bible. But the authority of the Sacred Writings disappears at the same time, divine inspiration and inerrancy being inseparable! [End of quotes] We could term this method of exegesis as emptying the Bible of all of its meaning. Père Marie-Joseph Lagrange (1855-1938) was a Dominican (OP) priest and the Dominicans figure rather prominently in my life inasmuch as OP priests celebrate Masses at the University of Sydney (St. John Paul II) chapel and at Notre Dame University (St. Benedict’s), at both of which places I attend, or have frequently attended in the past. The day that a well-informed friend of mine queried, in an e-mail, the strange biblical views that have emanated from the École Biblique which père Lagrange himself founded in Jerusalem, I happened to attend a Mass at the University of Sydney chapel celebrated by a learned Dominican priest. I thought that I must tell him about the concerned e-mail letter that I had just received, I being particularly interested to get his (Dominican) reaction. He is a scholar, basically a theologian, who seems to flit effortlessly around Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and French for starters. It soon became clear to me, though, that the Scriptures were essentially, for him, about theology - fair enough - but that what my colleagues and I would consider to be historical accounts were written late, perhaps beginning “about 900 BC”, and that “Moses and Joshua could not personally have written about contemporary events, nor did they record dates”. He also made the typical comment that the early Scriptures would have been passed on by means of “oral tradition”. Also fair enough, but the written aspect always seems to get downplayed. Whilst some of this was starting to rub with me, especially that Moses and Joshua did not write down the biblical events of the time, I did not feel inclined to become argumentative or contrary with a man who has an easy-going, genial nature. But, at the same time, I tried to push home some bullet points, such as: - God told Moses and Joshua to “write”. - Moses, in Egypt, was already a learned man and a scribe. [Cf. Acts 7:22] “Yes”, he replied, “but he did not write in Hebrew, but in Egyptian”. Some of what the priest said here is, I believe, just plain wrong, and smacks of what I find that père Lagrange had written decades earlier. Deferring to the Numbers (Chronology) Men Whilst I (and apparently Monty Python) find accountancy, numbers, to be utterly BORING: Counsellor: (John Cleese) Ah Mr Anchovy. Do sit down. Anchovy: (Michael Palin) Thank you. Take the weight off the feet, eh? Counsellor: Yes, yes. Anchovy: Lovely weather for the time of year, I must say. Counsellor: Enough of this gay banter. And now Mr Anchovy, you asked us to advise you which job in life you were best suited for. Anchovy: That is correct, yes. Counsellor: Well I now have the results here of the interviews and the aptitude tests that you took last week, and from them we've built up a pretty clear picture of the sort of person that you are. And I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, that the ideal job for you is chartered accountancy. Anchovy: But I am a chartered accountant. Counsellor: Jolly good. Well back to the office with you then. Anchovy: No! No! No! You don't understand. I've been a chartered accountant for the last twenty years. I want a new job. Something exciting that will let me live. Counsellor: Well chartered accountancy is rather exciting isn't it? Anchovy: Exciting? No it's not. It's dull. Dull. Dull. My God it's dull, it's so desperately dull and tedious and stuffy and boring and des-per-ate-ly DULL. …. numbers appear to be greatly revered in modern times. Numbers seem to have replaced ideas. It probably has something to do with the power that measuring offers, and, even, of man’s seeking to be ‘the measure of all things’ (Protagoras). Mathematics makes a wonderful servant, but it can be a very cruel taskmaster. Chronologists are the powerful numbers men of (ancient) history. In Egyptology, historians and archaeologists deferred to the ‘superior wisdom’ of the numbers man, Berlin School chronologist, Eduard Meyer (c. 1906), and allowed him to create a chronology of dynastic Egypt that has little bearing on reality. See e.g. my: The Fall of the Sothic Theory: Egyptian Chronology Revisited https://www.academia.edu/3665220/The_Fall_of_the_Sothic_Theory_Egyptian_Chronology_Revisited Was Meyer, the numbers man, dull? “The late great Classical scholar Werner Jaeger once said that the only time the lectures of the immortal Eduard Meyer were really interesting and the only time he was ever able to fill his lecture hall at the University of Berlin was when he talked about the Mormons”. Enough said! Meyer’s artificial dating of the Egyptian dynasties did not fit the shorter histories of, say, the Greeks and the Hittites. So, to save the situation, a massive slice of ‘Dark Ages’ (1200-700 BC) had to be inserted into these histories in order to ‘make’ them align with Egypt. These ‘Dark Ages’ did not occur in real history, and their insertion has caused a disruption to the proper sequence of Greek and Hittite history. Henk Spaan tells briefly what happened and how Dr. Immanuel Velikovsky had identified the problem: http://www.henkspaan2.nl/velikovsky/15darkages.php The history of ancient Greece is usually divided into several periods. The Archaic period is the time of ancient Hellas, that ran until about 1200 BC and ended shortly after the Trojan War. During this period Mycenae was the centre. Then followed a period of decline, the Greek Middle Ages, also called Dark Ages, when the country was invaded by primitive Dorians. The Greek heyday that we call Classical Greece, when Athens was the main centre, lasted from about 700 to 323 BC. Finally there is the Hellenistic period that begins with the conquests of Alexander the Great throughout the Middle East. In the Hellenistic period, Alexandria was the centre and the period lasted until the Roman conquest of Egypt. The part of Velikovsky's work dealing with "the dark ages of Greece" never appeared in print. Velikovsky worked on it in the last years of his life, but could not finish it. It is published in the Internet archive of his work entitled "The Dark Age of Greece". The Mycenaean civilization is closely linked to the 18th Dynasty of Egypt. During excavations in Mycenae, many objects from the 18th Dynasty were found and vice versa in Akhet-Aten, the city that Akhnaton had built, much Mycenaean pottery was found. This means that there must have been a period of more than 500 years between Archaic Greece that existed until 1200 BC and Classical Greece that began around 700 BC. This period is called a dark age because we know little or nothing about it and little remains of this period are found. Understanding those 500 years is difficult, because 500 years of human activity, however primitive, must have left traces above the remains of Mycenaean civilization and there must have been rulers, however barbaric, about whom people wrote of with fear or surprise. However, those traces are not there and neither are the stories. Of the Greek Middle Ages we know of no people like Vikings or Charlemagne of AD history. Yet, if we move the Mycenaean civilization to 500 years later, it will be closer in line with the rise of Classical Greece and we are then more in line with what, for example, Herodotus and other Greek historians thought about their past. Furthermore, many problems become easier. For example, the famous riddle: how could Homer write a detailed report of the Trojan War if the war took place more than 500 years before Homer wrote his work? [End of quote] Thus, when the likes of W.F. Albright, in close alliance with the École Biblique, attempted to date Joshua’s Jericho, the absence of any Mycenaean pottery at the site meant that - at least according to what Eduard Meyer had established chronologically about the Egypt of the same time, that it was to be dated to c. 1400 BC - the Jericho destruction would inevitably have to be shifted back centuries before this time. A major part in all of this was played by another (pottery-) chronologist (numbers man) and another Dominican, père Louis-Hugues Vincent, who joined the École Biblique only a year after it was founded. Of course, coming for a Lagrangian background, père Vincent was always going to be operating from a base of biblical fluidity. He, being a pottery-chronologist, was accorded a respect similar to that of the ‘expert’, Meyer. Consequently, we now find ourselves in the situation in which the biblical events have been separated from their right archaeology and history by many centuries – almost a millennium (c. C24th BC) in the case of the famous Jericho incident. One of my correspondent’s main concerns was that this - the Bible’s no longer fitting with the textbook history - was one of the reasons why many dismiss much of the Scriptures as being myth or fantasy, having little in the way of historical credibility. “Didactic fiction” is how one elderly Dominican in Sydney has described the Book of Jonah. Not that the Bible is essentially about history, or science, of course. For the Dominican priest to whom I spoke, it is really about “theology”. According to pope Francis, in Aperuit Illis, it is about “our salvation” (# 9): The Bible is not a collection of history books or a chronicle, but is aimed entirely at the integral salvation of the person. The evident historical setting of the books of the Bible should not make us overlook their primary goal, which is our salvation. It is clear from this, though, that the biblical books have an “evident historical setting”, contrary to Lagrange’s view that early Genesis is pre-historical, but also non-historical (see below). Dei Verbum even has “our first parents” Abraham, Moses, and so on. …. 3. God, who through the Word creates all things (see John 1:3) and keeps them in existence, gives men an enduring witness to Himself in created realities (see Rom. 1:19-20). Planning to make known the way of heavenly salvation, He went further and from the start manifested Himself to our first parents. Then after their fall His promise of redemption aroused in them the hope of being saved (see Gen. 3:15) and from that time on He ceaselessly kept the human race in His care, to give eternal life to those who perseveringly do good in search of salvation (see Rom. 2:6-7). Then, at the time He had appointed He called Abraham in order to make of him a great nation (see Gen. 12:2). Through the patriarchs, and after them through Moses and the prophets, He taught this people to acknowledge Himself the one living and true God, provident father and just judge, and to wait for the Savior promised by Him, and in this manner prepared the way for the Gospel down through the centuries. …. M. Lagrange, on the other hand, according to the following, denied early Genesis historicity: https://exhibitions.lib.cam.ac.uk/dominicans/artifacts/the-bible-in-context/ …. His major challenge, however, would be to establish for fellow Catholics the importance of the Bible’s literary and historical contexts while still proclaiming it to be the Word of God. To promote Catholic biblical scholarship Lagrange founded first the periodical Revue biblique which was to publish articles on exegesis by teachers at the Jerusalem school and elsewhere, and second Études bibliques, a series of commentaries which began with a study of Judges published in 1903. Church censorship was a continual possibility. Lagrange challenged in his lectures and articles the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, and he denied the historicity (though not the truth) of the creation narrative in Genesis 1–11. As a result, he found himself forbidden to publish a commentary on Genesis. [End of quote] The Dominican priest to whom I spoke did not actually deny an Adam and an Eve, but said: “The first man and woman are called Adam and Eve in Genesis, but these would not have been their real names as they are Hebrew names”. I also advanced this bullet point: - The JEDP sources that scholars claim to identify in the Book of Genesis are not fundamentally the sources from which Genesis was compiled. These latter are the toledôt divisions, to be read as endings of family histories, the histories of the pre-Moses patriarchs. Whilst the Dominican priest was familiar with toledôt, he did not comment on my insistence that they were endings, not headings. He admitted to being uncomfortable with JEDP – “you can’t preach it”. I also recalled to him the case of the French Catholic physician, Jean Astruc, really a pioneer of the modern documentary sources, who had intuitively discerned that the Flood account in Genesis appeared to have been composed from more than one source. The toledôt perfectly accounts for that, of course, it having been written by Noah’s three sons. The next series, I said, was signed off only by Shem, who must by then have become separated from his brothers, Ham and Japheth. Furthermore, I said, scholars who deny the influence of Moses in the compilation of the Pentateuch may not have any expertise in the ancient Egyptian language, and are not able, therefore, to discern a prevailing Egyptian influence throughout much of those books - this being an indication that these books, in their original states (before later editing) were written at an early point in time when Israel had been in close contact with Egypt, and not written in a later Babylonian period as the documentists insist. I queried that, if the early Bible were not really historically or archaeologically relevant, why was it that there is a substantial archaeology underlying e.g. the Conquest when properly dated, and not dated according to the whims of the unreliable chronologists. The Middle Bronze I (MBI) people - the priest knew of them - basically trace the same geographical pattern as do the Exodus Israelites, and they are known to have been bearing Egyptian artefacts. But conventional historians (the more biblically-minded ones) tend to identify the partially nomadic MBI as belonging to the time of Abram (Abraham). Once we fix Abram to his right stratigraphical level, however, which is Late Chalcolithic/Early Bronze I, we can identify the destruction caused by the four invading kings as narrated in Genesis 14, Amraphel of Shinar and his confederacy. All of this is a real history, with a real underpinning archaeology. The Book of James considered today Clearly a farmer is not expected to be patient over a period of centuries for his crop to emerge. And that is the difficulty with any timetable that does not accord with the bald statements of Jesus Christ and the Apostles that that very generation would be experiencing his “coming”. The emptying of the meaning from the holy Scriptures, that has already been considered in relation to the Dominican founder of the École Biblique in Jerusalem, Pere Marie-J. Lagrange (1855-1938), seems to be a continuing phenomenon among Dominican priests, with one recently emphasising to Catholics at a Mass in Sydney (Notre Dame University), with regard to Genesis: “Whatever you do, don’t take any of this literally”. Then, a few days later (15th December, 2019), another Dominican priest, at the same venue, made some statements regarding the New Testament Book of James that I would consider to be emptying that book of some of its meaning, and to be implying that the Apostles were rather clueless about “the Second Coming”. First of all, the priest claimed that the Book of James was written about 90 AD. That is after the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD (conventional dating). And James was already dead by then. The bald statements of James regarding Jesus’ imminent return (5:7-8): “Be patient, then, brothers and sisters, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop, patiently waiting for the autumn and spring rains. … the coming of the Lord is at hand” [literally, “has drawn near”]”, was an indication to the Dominican priest that the Apostles did not have any idea as to when the Second Coming was due to occur. But, still, he added, we need to await it patiently just as does a farmer for the land to yield its crop. Clearly a farmer is not expected to be patient over a period of centuries for his crop to emerge. And that is the difficulty with any timetable that does not accord with the bald statements of Jesus and the Apostles that that very generation would be experiencing his “coming”: • Romans 13:12: “The night is far gone; the day is at hand” [literally, “the day has drawn near”]. • Hebrews 10:25: “[Do not neglect] to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encourag[e] one another, and all the more as (because) you see the Day (already) drawing near.” • 1 Peter 4:7: “The end of all things is at hand” [“has drawn near”]. 70 AD, far from being a couple of decades before the Book of James was written, was the year when the prophesied “coming” would occur. For more on this, see e.g. my article: A Coming of Jesus before the Final Coming https://www.academia.edu/106150543/A_Coming_of_Jesus_before_the_Final_Coming Who was this James? The following article poses a similar question: Who Was James, the Brother of Jesus? It is no secret that the Catholic Church teaches, and has always taught, that the Blessed Virgin Mary was just that — a virgin — all the days of her life. This teaching does not come out of nowhere, but is based on a long tradition in Christian history. Despite this venerable Christian tradition, Mary’s perpetual virginity is one of the Catholic beliefs most often questioned by Protestants. It is interesting to note that most, if not all, Protestant denominations have no official teaching on whether or not Mary remained a virgin after giving birth to Jesus. Virtually all of the founding fathers of Protestantism (Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, et al.) maintained a belief in Mary’s perpetual virginity. Luther preached that “Christ … was the only Son of Mary, and the Virgin Mary bore no children besides Him” (Sermons on John, ch 1–4). Zwingli wrote, “I firmly believe that Mary, according to the words of the gospel as a pure Virgin brought forth for us the Son of God and in childbirth and after childbirth forever remained a pure, intact virgin” (Zwingli Opera, Corpus Reformatorum, Berlin, 1905, v. 1, p. 424.). Most Protestants today, however, assume Mary and Joseph would have had normal marital relations resulting in other children. This is not based on any new historical data unavailable to those in the early Church. Rather it is based on an assumption that … well, that’s just what married people do, isn’t it? For many, the belief that Jesus had younger siblings seems supported by the Bible itself. After all, we have verses like this: “Is this not the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon?” (Mk 6:3). Isn’t this biblical proof that Mary had other children besides Jesus? Before we delve into this specific question, it is important to keep one thing in mind …. The Church has studied the scriptures for thousands of years. Yet the Church maintains that Mary remained a virgin all her life. Has the Church somehow remained unaware of Mk 6:3 all this time? Or is there more to the story? “Brethren of the Lord” There are several other passages that mention the “brethren” of Jesus (Mt 12:46, Jn 7:5, Acts 1:14, 1 Cor 9:5). “Brethren” in this context has always been taken to mean “cousin.” This is how Martin Luther interpreted its meaning in his Sermons on John quoted from above. The reason for this is simple. There was no word for “cousin” in Hebrew or Aramaic (the language Jesus most likely would have spoken). The term “brother” or “brethren” was used generically for any male relative, and this is how it is used in the Greek of the New Testament (even though Greek does have a word for “cousin”). …. Those who maintain that James, Joseph, Judas and Simon were other biological children of Mary and Joseph might say that this “cousin” explanation is a little too convenient. But it can be demonstrated as true in at least one case — the case of James, the most famous “brother of the Lord.” St. James was one of the Apostles, the first leader of the Church in Jerusalem, and a very prominent figure in the early Church. Was he, in fact, another son of Mary and Joseph? We do know that his mother was named Mary. The gospels give us that information. But they also tell us that she was not Mary, the mother of Jesus. We can tell this by comparing the different gospel accounts of the women standing at the foot of the cross. “Among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee” (Mt 27:56). “Among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the less and of Joseph, and Salome” (Mk 15:40). “And meanwhile his [Jesus’] mother, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene had taken their stand beside the cross of Jesus” (Jn 19:25). If we compare these three accounts, we see three women named Mary standing at the foot of the cross: Mary, the mother of Jesus; Mary Magdalene; and Mary, the wife of Cleophas who was also the mother of James and Joseph. So James’ mother was a Mary, but not the Mary (Mary is a very common name among 1st century Jewish women. I can’t cite it now, but I remember reading in one source that 25% of Jewish women of the era were named some version of “Mary”). What do we know of James’ father? In Mt 10:3, James is called the son of Alphaeus. It is worth noting that the Aramaic name for Alphaeus could be rendered in Greek as either Alphaeus or Clopas/Cleophas. Since James’ mother Mary is described as the “wife of Cleophas” in Jn 19:25, this is probably the same man described here. And what do we know of him? Not too much from the scriptures, but according to the 2nd century historian Hegesippus, he was the brother of Joseph, Jesus’ foster-father. This would make James the cousin of Jesus. However, even if Hegesippus is wrong about that detail, we still know from the gospel accounts that James is the son of Alphaeus/Cleophas and a different Mary, and not the son of Mary (mother of Jesus) and Joseph. In other words, James cannot be the biological brother of Jesus. Does this prove the perpetual virginity of Mary? No. But it does show the danger of challenging any long-held and well-established Christian teaching on the basis of one or two “proof texts” from the Bible. Benedict XVI - Bible “based on history” “The evident historical setting of the books of the Bible should not make us overlook their primary goal, which is our salvation”. Pope Francis In this article I have suggested that the ‘emptying Scripture of its meaning’ exegetical approach of Père Lagrange of the École Biblique appears to have been followed by contemporary Dominicans. From the recent exhortation by one to by no means take literally the content of the Book of Genesis, to another’s insisting that neither Moses nor Joshua wrote down contemporary records - biblical writing did not begin until “900 BC” - to another’s labelling the book of Jonah “didactic fiction”, to another’s uncertainty as to whether Daniel and his three friends were actual historical characters. And that is only a part of it. As a Christian, I found the last one, concerning the Book of Daniel, to be particularly disconcerting as the aged priest mentioned it in a sermon in which he also proposed that the courageous witness of Daniel and his three friends, in the face of fierce persecution, ought serve to strengthen us today as we face persecution and ridicule for our faith. Well, I don’t know how other Christians would feel about this, but if ISIS had a knife at my throat ordering me to renounce my faith, I would not find it terribly consoling to have that particular Dominican close, Book of Daniel in hand, urging me to remember the heroic witness of Daniel and his three friends. “But you said they may not have been real!!!” Far more refreshingly, I think, pope Benedict XVI had insisted that the Bible was “based on history” (as quoted by Greg Sheridan in “Christmas story still resonates down the ages”): The former Pope Benedict, in his magisterial, scholarly book, Jesus of Nazareth, explains the importance of historicity: “It is of the very essence of biblical faith to be about real historical events. It does not tell stories symbolising supra-historical truths, but is based on history, history that took place here on this Earth.” Benedict also explains the severe limits of the historical-critical method in trying to deconstruct the New Testament. Concerning biblical critical studies, which once in their wilder speculations did much to undermine religious faith, Benedict writes: “We have to keep in mind the limits of all our efforts to know the past: We can never go beyond the domain of hypothesis because we simply cannot bring the past into the present. To be sure, some hypotheses enjoy a high degree of certainty, but overall we need to remain conscious of the limit of our certainties”. And more recently pope Francis referred to, in “Aperuit Illis” (# 9): “The evident historical setting of the books of the Bible …”. First, recalling Paul’s encouragement to Timothy, Dei Verbum stresses that “we must acknowledge that the books of Scripture firmly, faithfully and without error, teach that truth which God, for the sake of our salvation, wished to see confided to the sacred Scriptures” (No. 11). Since the Scriptures teach with a view to salvation through faith in Christ (cf. 2 Tim 3:15), the truths contained therein are profitable for our salvation. The Bible is not a collection of history books or a chronicle, but is aimed entirely at the integral salvation of the person. The evident historical setting of the books of the Bible should not make us overlook their primary goal, which is our salvation. Everything is directed to this purpose and essential to the very nature of the Bible, which takes shape as a history of salvation in which God speaks and acts in order to encounter all men and women and to save them from evil and death. ….

Friday, January 10, 2025

Jesus Christ, the new Temple, is able to hand out forgiveness

“Jesus handed out forgiveness whenever anyone humbly approached him. He acted like a mobile temple”. John Dickson John Dickson well explained this situation in this 2018 article: https://www.johndickson.org/blog/2018/2/7/jesus-as-the-temple Jesus as Temple - a forgotten aspect of his own claim to authority …. The temple was the centre of Israel’s national and religious life. This was where God chose to dwell, according to the Hebrew Scriptures; it was where sacrifices for the forgiveness of sins could be made; it was where the country’s leading teachers could be heard in the vast temple courts; it was where pilgrims gathered in tens of thousands, especially at Passover time, to sing and pray to the one true God. For the devout Jew, arriving at the crest of the Mount of Olives and looking down at the temple of God must have stirred up extraordinary feelings of national pride and spiritual awe. In the midst of this already heightened sense of occasion, toward the end of his public career as a teacher and healer, Jesus entered the Jerusalem Temple and proceeded to pronounce judgement on it—as if he had authority even over this central symbol of Israel’s faith: “Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. “It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it ‘a den of robbers’.” — Matthew 21:12–13 It is hardly surprising that Jesus would be dead by the end of the week. It is also not surprising that one of the central charges laid against him at his trial was his reported contempt for the temple. Matthew’s Gospel records: “Finally two came forward and declared, “This fellow said, ‘I am able to destroy the temple of God and rebuild it in three days.’” Then the high priest stood up and said to Jesus, “Are you not going to answer?’” — Matthew 26:60–62 Jesus did not answer this charge …. Historically revealing is the fact that in the Gospel of John’s account of the clearing of the temple (probably written independently of the other three Gospels) we hear a statement from Jesus that comes very close to the one recalled at his trial: “The Jews then responded to him, “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.” They replied, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?” But the temple he had spoken of was his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken. ” — John 2:18–22 At first sight, this is a bizarre statement: Jesus’ body, crucified and raised, is the temple! However, this is not the first time Jesus has identified himself with the temple. The theme emerges a number of times in the Gospels. We get hints of it every time Jesus hands out divine forgiveness to people. In first-century Judaism, only the temple priests could pronounce forgiveness, and, even then, only after the appropriate sacrifice had been offered. This is why, after Jesus forgave the prostitute at the home of Simon the Pharisee, as discussed in the previous chapter, the guests murmured, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” (Luke 7:49b). Jesus handed out forgiveness whenever anyone humbly approached him. He acted like a mobile temple. An explicit comparison between Jesus and the temple is found in Matthew 12 in a scene set long before Jesus took on the temple priests. The Pharisees had criticised Jesus’ disciples for doing what looked like work on the Sabbath day. Jesus responded: “Haven’t you read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? He entered the house of God, and he and his companions ate the consecrated bread—which was not lawful for them to do, but only for the priests. Or haven’t you read in the Law that the priests on Sabbath duty in the temple desecrate the Sabbath day [i.e., do work on the Sabbath] and yet are innocent? I tell you that something greater than the temple is here. ” — Matthew 12:3–6 The logic goes like this: priests are exempt from the Sabbath law when working within the precinct of the temple; how much more then are the disciples exempt when working in the vicinity of the Messiah. Jesus, according to these words, is more than the temple. This is an extraordinary statement in its first-century context. When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, entered the temple and declared its ministry bankrupt, he was not acting as a mere religious radical. According to the witness of the Gospel writers, he was acting as God’s replacement temple, or, perhaps more accurately, as the reality to which the temple pointed all along. All that the temple had meant for Israel for almost one thousand years was now to be found in Israel’s Messiah. The presence of God which human beings so longed for was to be found through a personal connection with Christ …. The hunger for divine teaching could be satisfied, not in the courts of a glorious sanctuary, but by feeding on the words of Jesus. True “pilgrims” could henceforth declare their praises, not within the walls of one sacred building, but wherever people gathered in honour of the Messiah. And forgiveness of sins could be enjoyed through the one priestly sacrifice of Jesus, not through priest and sacrifice. The Jerusalem temple was eventually destroyed some forty years after Jesus’ death, when in August AD 70 Roman troops stormed Jerusalem to end a bitter five-year rebellion. …. From the point of view of the first followers of Jesus, the temple was really overthrown and replaced around AD 30. From the time of Christ’s death and resurrection, said the early Christians, a new temple was established for all nations. All who want to locate the Creator’s presence, learn his teaching, and enjoy his forgiveness can do so simply by embracing the Messiah, the new temple.

Sunday, January 5, 2025

Fr. Raymond Brown’s fatal differences between early Matthew and Luke

“Brown sees these differences as fatal to the possible harmony of the two accounts, stating that they are irreconcilable at several points”. Ian Paul Theologian Ian Paul provides a sensible perspective regarding the Infancy Narratives of Matthew and Luke in contrast to Fr. Raymond Brown’s messing with the Messiah: https://www.psephizo.com/biblical-studies/myth-and-history-in-the-epiphany-of-matthew-2/ Myth and history in the Epiphany of Matthew 2 December 29, 2021 by Ian Paul ________________________________________ …. ________________________________________ The Feast of the Epiphany in the church’s liturgical calendar is based on the events of Matt 2.1–12, the visit of the ‘wise men’ from the East to the infant Jesus. There are plenty of things about the story which might make us instinctively treat it as just another part of the constellation of Christmas traditions, which does not have very much connection with reality—and these questions are raised each year at this feast. The first is the sparseness of the story. As with other parts of the gospels, the details are given to us in bare outline compared with what we are used to in modern literature. We are told little of the historical reality that might interest us, and the temptation is to fill in details for ourselves. This leads to the second issue—the development of sometimes quite elaborate traditions which do the work of filling in for us. So these ‘magoi’ (which gives us our word ‘magic’) became ‘three’ (because of the number of their gifts), then ‘wise men’ and then ‘kings’ (probably under the influence of Ps 72.10. By the time of this Roman mosaic from the church in Ravenna built in 547, they have even acquired names. Christopher Howse comments: [T]hink how deeply these three men have entered our imagination as part of the Christmas story. “A cold coming they had of it at this time of the year, just the worst time of the year to take a journey, and specially a long journey, in. The ways deep, the weather sharp, the days short, the sun farthest off, in solstitio brumali, the very dead of winter.” Those words, in a tremendous sermon by Lancelot Andrewes that King James I heard on Christmas Day 1622, were brilliantly stolen by TS Eliot and incorporated into his poem The Journey of the Magi. And we can see it all: the camels’ breath steaming in the night air as the kings, in their gorgeous robes of silk and cloth-of-gold and clutching their precious gifts, kneel to adore the baby in the manger. Yet, that is not entirely what the Gospel says… But for any careful readers of the gospels, there is a third question: how does the visit of the magi fit in with the overall birth narrative, and in particular can Matthew’s account be reconciled with Luke’s? Andreas Köstenberger and Alexander Stewart address this question in The First Days of Jesus pp 164–167, in dialogue with Raymond Brown’s The Birth of the Messiah (1993). Brown notes the points that Matthew and Luke share in common: 1. The parents are named as Mary and Joseph, who are legally engaged or married but have not yet come to live together or have sexual relations (Matt 1.18, Luke 1.27, 34) 2. Joseph is of Davidic descent (Matt 1.16, 20, Luke 1.27, 32, 2.4) 3. An angel announces the forthcoming birth of the child (Matt 1.20–23 Luke 1.30–35) 4. The conception of the child is not through intercourse with her husband (Matt 1.20, 23, 25, Luke 1.34) 5. The conception is through the Holy Spirit (Matt 1.18, 20, Luke 1.35) 6. The angel directs them to name the child Jesus (Matt 1.21, Luke 2.11) 7. An angel states that Jesus is to be Saviour (Matt 1.21, Luke 2.11) 8. The birth of the child takes place after the parents have come to live together (Matt 1.24–25, Luke 2.5–6) 9. The birth takes place in Bethlehem (Matt 2.1, Luke 2.4–6). This is a surprisingly long list, and Brown’s careful examination produces a longer list of points of agreement than is usual noted. But even a cursory reading highlights the differences, not just in style and concern in the narrative, but in material content. Luke includes the angelic announcements to Zechariah and Mary, Mary’s visit to Elizabeth and the ‘Magnificat’, the birth of John the Baptist, Zechariah’s song (the ‘Benedictus’), the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, Jesus being laid in the food-trough, the lack of space in the guest room, the angelic announcement to the shepherds, and the presentation in the temple with Simeon and Anna—all omitted from Matthew. On the other hand, Matthew includes the visit of the magi, Herod’s plot, the escape to Egypt, the slaughter of the ‘innocents’, and Joseph’s decision about where to settle—all omitted from Luke. As Richard Bauckham notes, Luke’s is a largely ‘gynocentric’ narrative, focussing on the experiences, decisions and faithfulness of the women, whilst Matthew’s is largely an ‘androcentric’ narrative, focussing much more on the roles, decisions and actions of the men involved. Brown sees these differences as fatal to the possible harmony of the two accounts, stating that they are irreconcilable at several points. But Köstenberger and Stewart disagree: Nothing that Matthew says actually contradicts Luke’s account about Mary and Joseph being in Nazareth prior to the birth. Matthew is silent on the matter…[which] simply indicates his ignorance of or lack of interest in these details for the purpose of his narrative…Narrators commonly compress time and omit details (either from ignorance or conscious choice). Luke’s reference to the family’s return to Nazareth after the presentation of the temple does not contradict the events recorded in Matthew 2; he just doesn’t comment on them. Again, silence does not equal contradiction (pp 166–167). Luke’s conclusion, in Luke 2.39, is sometimes seen as creating a difficulty; the most natural way to read the English ‘When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth’ (TNIV) is as a temporal marker, suggesting an immediate return. But the Greek phrase kai hos can have a range of meanings; the emphasis for Luke here is that, since they had done everything, they were able to leave, contributing to Luke’s consistent theme throughout the early chapters that Joseph and Mary, along with other characters in the story, are obedient, Torah-observant, pious Jews. What is interesting here is that we have two quite different accounts, working from different sources, with different aims—and yet in agreement on all the main details. Normally in scholarly discussion, this double testimony would be counted as evidence of reliability and historicity, rather than a contradiction to it. ________________________________________ In response to this, critical scholarship has moved in the other direction, and by and large has pulled apart Matthew’s story and confidently decided that none of it actually happened—in part because of the supposed contradictions with Luke, but in even larger part because of Matthew’s use of Old Testament citations. Thus it is read as having been constructed by Matthew out of a series of OT texts in order to tell us the real significance of Jesus. So Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan, in The First Christmas: what the gospels really teach about Jesus’ birth, come to this conclusion: In our judgement, there was no special star, no wise men and no plot by Herod to kill Jesus. So is the story factually true? No. But as a parable, is it true? For us as Christians, the answer is a robust affirmative. Is Jesus light shining in the darkness? Yes. Do the Herods of this world seek to extinguish the light? Yes. Does Jesus still shine in the darkness? Yes (p 184). The approach presents problems of its own. For one, the stories are not presented as parables, but in continuity with the events Matthew relates in Jesus’ life later in the gospel. For another, if God in Jesus did not outwit Herod, on what grounds might we think he can outwit ‘the Herods of this world’? More fundamentally, Matthew and his first readers appeared to believe that the claims about Jesus were ‘parabolically true’ because these things actually happened. If none of them did, what grounds do we now have? Even if the events we read about are heavily interpreted, there is an irreducible facticity in testimony; if this has gone, we ought to question the value of the testimony itself. ________________________________________ A good working example of this approach is found in Paul Davidson’s blog. Davidson is a professional translator, rather than a biblical studies academic, but he offers a good outline of what critical scholarship has to say about Matthew’s nativity. His basic assumption is that Matthew is a ‘multi-layered’ document—Matthew is writing from the basis of other, differing sources. He takes over large parts of Mark’s gospel, as does Luke, and Matthew and Luke never agree in contradiction to Mark, a key piece of the argument of ‘Marcan priority’, that Mark was earlier than either of the other two. Whether or not you believe in the existence of the so-called Q, another early written source (and with Mark Goodacre, I don’t), Matthew is clearly dealing with some pre-existing material, oral or written. It is striking, for example, that Joseph is a central character in Matthew’s account before and after the story of the magi, and is the key actor in contrast to Luke’s nativity, where the women are central. Yet in this section (Matt 2.1–12) the focus is on ‘the child’ or ‘the child and his mother Mary’ (Matt 2.9, 2.11; see also Matt 2.14, 20 and 21). Some scholars therefore argue that this story comes from a different source, and so might be unhistorical. This is where we need to start being critical of criticism. Handling texts in this way requires the making of some bold assumptions, not least that of author invariants. If a change of style indicates a change of source, then this can only be seen if the writer is absolutely consistent in his (or her) own writing, and fails to make the source material his or her own. In other words, we … need to be a lot smarter than the writer him- or herself. Even a basic appreciation of writing suggests that authors are just not that consistent. Davidson goes on in his exploration to explain the story of the star in terms of OT source texts. The basis for the star and the magi comes from Numbers 22–24, a story in which Balaam, a soothsayer from the east (and a magus in Jewish tradition) foretells the coming of a great ruler “out of Jacob”. Significantly, the Greek version of this passage has messianic overtones, as it replaces “sceptre” in 24:17 with “man.” He is quite right to identify the connections here; any good commentary will point out these allusions, and it would be surprising if Matthew, writing what most would regard as a ‘Jewish’ gospel, was not aware of this. But if he is using these texts as a ‘source’, he is not doing a very good job. The star points to Jesus, but Jesus is not described as a ‘star’, and no gospels make use of this as a title. In fact, this is the only place where the word ‘star’ occurs in the gospel. (It does occur as a title in Rev 22.16, and possibly in 2 Peter 1.19, but neither text makes any connection with this passage.) ________________________________________ Next, Davidson looks at the citation in Matt 2.5–6, which for many critical scholars provides the rationale for a passage explaining that Jesus was born in Bethlehem when he is otherwise universally known as ‘Jesus of Nazareth’ (19 times in all four gospels and Acts). But, as Davidson points out, Matthew has to work hard to get these texts to help him. For one, he has to bolt together two texts which are otherwise completely unconnected, from Micah 5.2 and 2 Sam 5.2. Secondly, he has to change the text of Micah 5.2 so that: • Bethlehem, the ‘least’ of the cities of Judah, now becomes ‘by no means the least’; • the well-known epithet ‘Ephrathah’ becomes ‘Judah’ to make the geography clear; and • the ‘clans’ becomes ‘clan leader’ i.e. ‘ruler’ to make the text relevant. Moreover, Matthew is making use of a text which was not known as ‘messianic’; in the first century, the idea that messiah had to come from Bethlehem as a son of David was known but not very widespread. All this is rather bad news for those who would argue that Jesus’ birth was carefully planned to be a literal fulfilment of OT prophecy. But it is equally bad news for those who argue that Matthew made the story up to fit such texts, and for exactly the same reason. Of course, Matthew is working in a context where midrashic reading of texts means that they are a good deal more flexible than we would consider them. But he is needing to make maximum use of this flexibility, and the logical conclusion of this would be that he was constrained by the other sources he is using—by the account he has of what actually happened. ________________________________________ Davidson now turns to consider the magi and the star. He notes a certain coherence up to the point where the magi arrive in Jerusalem. So far, the story makes logical sense despite its theological problems (e.g. the fact that it encourages people to believe in the “deceptive science of astrology”, as Strauss noted). The star is just that: a star. Then everything changes. The star is transformed into an atmospheric light that guides the magi right from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, where it hovers over a single house—the one where the child is. We are no longer dealing with a distant celestial body, but something else entirely, like a pixie or will-o’-the-wisp. Mackey’s comment: But see e.g. my article: The Magi and the Star that Stopped: (5) The Magi and the Star that Stopped Ian Paul continues: Here again critical assumptions need some critical reflection. Matthew’s inclusion of magi is theologically very problematic indeed. Simon Magus and Elymas (Acts 8.9, 13.8) hardly get a good press, not surprising in light of OT prohibitions on sorcery, magic and astrology. Western romanticism has embraced the Epiphany as a suggestive mystery, but earlier readings (like that of Irenaeus) saw the point as the humiliation of paganism; the giving of the gifts was an act of submission and capitulation to a greater power. For Matthew the Jew, they are an unlikely and risky feature to include, especially when Jesus is clear he has come to the ‘lost sheep of the house of Israel’ (Matt 10.6, 15.24). There have been many attempts to explain the appearance of the star scientifically. …. And any naturalistic explanations miss Matthew’s central point: this was something miraculous provided by God. If you don’t think the miraculous is possible, you are bound to disbelieve Matthew’s story—but on the basis of your own assumptions, not on any criteria of historical reliability or the nature of Matthew’s text. Davidson cites the 19th-century rationalist critic David Friedrich Strauss in his objection to the plausibility of Herod’s action: With regard to Herod’s instructions to report back to him, Strauss notes that surely the magi would have seen through his plan at once. There were also less clumsy methods Herod might have used to find out where the child was; why did he not, for example, send companions along with the magi to Bethlehem? In fact, we know from Josephus that Herod had a fondness for using secret spies. And in terms of the story, the magi are unaware of Herod’s motives; we are deploying our prior knowledge of the outcome to decide what we think Herod ought to have done, which is hardly a good basis for questioning Matthew’s credibility. ________________________________________ Finally, we come to the arrival of the magi at the home of the family. Interestingly, Matthew talks of their ‘house’ (Matt 2.11) which supports the idea that Jesus was not born in a stable—though from the age of children Herod has executed (less than two years) we should think of the magi arriving some time after the birth. Mackey’s comment: But see e.g. my article: Magi were not necessarily astronomers or astrologers (5) Magi were not necessarily astronomers or astrologers Ian Paul continues: No shepherds and magi together here! (It is worth noting, though, that forming a ‘tableau’ of different elements of a narrative, all compressed together, is a common feature of artistic depictions of stories. We just need to be aware of what is going in here in the compression of narrative time.) Davidson again sees (with critical scholars) this event constructed from OT texts: According to Brown, Goulder (2004), and others, the Old Testament provided the inspiration for the gifts of the magi. This passage is an implicit citation of Isaiah 60.3, 6 and Psalm 72.10, 15, which describe the bringing of gifts in homage to the king, God’s royal son. But again, the problem here is that Matthew’s account just doesn’t fit very well. Given that these OT texts uniformly mention kings, not magi, if Matthew was constructing his account from these, why choose the embarrassing astrologers? And why three gifts rather than two? Where has the myrrh come from? Again, it is Irenaeus who first interprets the gifts as indicators of kingship, priesthood and sacrificial death respectively, but Matthew does not appear to do so. In the narrative, they are simply extravagant gifts fit for the true ‘king of the Jews’. Subsequent tradition has to do the work that Matthew has here failed to do, and make the story fit the prophecies rather better than Matthew has managed to. Davidson closes his analysis of this section with a final observation from Strauss: If the magi can receive divine guidance in dreams, why are they not told in a dream to avoid Jerusalem and go straight to Bethlehem in the first place? Many innocent lives would have been saved that way. Clearly, God could have done a much better job of the whole business. But it rather appears as though Matthew felt unable to improve on what happened by fitting it either to the OT texts or his sense of what ought to have happened. The modern reader might struggle with aspects of Matthew’s story. But it seems to me you can only dismiss it by making a large number of other, unwarranted assumptions. ….

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

Mary as the Mother of God - pope Francis

Taken from: https://www.popefrancis2024.sg/mary-the-mother-of-god-and-our-mother/#:~:text=Mother%20of%20us%20all&text=Who%20can%20fill%20our%20emptiness,our%20eyes%20to%20their%20fullness. Mary, the Mother of God, and our Mother Michelle Tan for The Catholic News Singapore “If we want to be Christians, we must be ‘Marians’, that is, ‘children of Mary’,” declared Pope Francis at the Mass for the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God, on Jan 1, 2024, in Saint Peter’s Basilica. “The motherhood of Mary is the path leading us to the paternal tenderness of God, the closest, most direct and easiest of paths: this is God’s ‘style’ – closeness, compassion, and tenderness,” he said. “Indeed, the Mother leads us to the beginning and heart of faith, which is not a theory or a task, but a boundless gift that makes us beloved sons and daughters, tabernacles of the Father’s love. It follows that welcoming the Mother into our lives is not a matter of devotion but a requirement of faith.” Mother of God Pope Francis began his homily by explaining the meaning of Saint Paul’s words in the Second Reading: When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman (Galatians 4:4). “In ancient times, time was measured using vases of water; the passage of time was marked by how long it took for an empty vase to be filled,” shared the Pope. “The phrase ‘fullness of time’ means that, once the vase of history is filled, divine grace spills over. God becomes man and He does so through a woman, Mary: she is the means chosen by God, the culmination of that long line of individuals and generations that ‘drop by drop’ prepared for the Lord’s coming into the world. It pleased God to turn history around through her, the ‘woman’.” The words ‘Mother of God’ are therefore a “dogma of hope” that express “the joyful certainty that the Lord, a tiny Child in His Mamma’s arms, has united Himself forever to our humanity, to the point that it is no longer only ours, but His as well” – a confession of God’s eternal covenant with humanity, he added. The Pope then called on the Church and every society to respect, defend, and esteem women “in the knowledge that whosoever harms a single woman profanes God, who was ‘born of a woman’”. Mother of us all “Just as Mary, the woman, played a decisive role in the fullness of time, she is also decisive in the lives of each of us, for no one knows better than a Mother the stages of growth and the urgent needs of her children,” observed the Holy Father. Referring to the Mary’s intercession for the wedding couple at Cana who had run out of wine (John 2:1-12), he said, “Mary knows our needs; she intercedes to make grace overflow in our lives and to guide them to authentic fulfilment. Brothers and sisters, all of us have our shortcomings, our times of loneliness, our inner emptiness that cries out to be filled. Who can fill our emptiness if not Mary, the Mother of fullness?” Pope Francis concluded his homily with the exhortation, “Let us entrust this coming year to the Mother of God. Let us consecrate our lives to her. With tender love, she will open our eyes to their fullness. For she will lead us to Jesus, who is Himself ‘the fullness of time, of every time, of our own time, of each one of us.”

Monday, December 30, 2024

John correct about Pool of Siloam

Taken from: The Siloam Pool: Where Jesus Healed the Blind Man - Biblical Archaeology Society The Siloam Pool: Where Jesus Healed the Blind Man A sacred Christian site identified by archaeologists BAS Staff July 04, 2024 …. The Siloam Pool has long been considered a sacred Christian site, even if the correct identification of the site itself was uncertain. According to the Gospel of John, it was at the Siloam Pool where Jesus healed the blind man (John 9:1–11). Traditionally, the Christian site of the Siloam Pool was the pool and church that were built by the Byzantine empress Eudocia (c. 400–460 A.D.) to commemorate the miracle recounted in the New Testament. However, the exact location of the original pool as it existed during the time of Jesus remained a mystery until June 2004. In 2004, the stepped remains of the ancient Siloam Pool, long thought to be located elsewhere, were uncovered near the City of David. According to the Gospel of John, it was at this sacred Christian site that Jesus healed the blind man. Photo: Todd Bolen/BiblePlaces.com. During construction work to repair a large water pipe south of Jerusalem’s Temple Mount, at the southern end of the ridge known as the City of David, archaeologists Ronny Reich and Eli Shukron identified two ancient stone steps. Further excavation revealed that they were part of a monumental pool from the Second Temple period, the period in which Jesus lived. The structure Reich and Shukron discovered was 225 feet long, with corners that are slightly greater than 90 degrees, indicating a trapezoidal shape, with the widening end oriented toward Tyropoeon valley. ________________________________________ ________________________________________ The Siloam Pool is adjacent to the area in the ancient City of David known as the King’s Garden and is just southeast of the remains of the fifth-century church and pool traditionally believed to be the sacred Christian site. Artist’s rendering of the Siloam Pool, the Biblical Christian site where Jesus healed the blind man. Image: Jason Clarke. What was the function of the Siloam Pool during Jesus’ time? Because the pool is fed by waters from the Gihon Spring, located in the Kidron Valley, the naturally flowing spring water would have qualified the pool for use as a mikveh for ritual bathing. However, it could also have been an important source of fresh water for the inhabitants on that part of the city. One scholar has even suggested that it was a Roman-style swimming pool. Whatever its original purpose, the Siloam Pool where Jesus healed the blind man is an important Christian site, and its discovery represents a watershed moment in the field of Biblical archaeology. As with many sites in the Holy Land, the origins of the Siloam Pool reach back even further in history—at least seven centuries before the time of Jesus. Judah’s King Hezekiah (late eighth century B.C.) correctly anticipated a siege against Jerusalem by the Assyrian monarch Sennacherib. ________________________________________ Learn more about Hezekiah’s Tunnel, including recent attempts to redate the water tunnel and assign its construction to King Hezekiah’s predecessor or successors, in “Hezekiah’s Tunnel Reexamined.” ________________________________________ To protect the city’s water supply during the siege, Hezekiah undertook a strategic engineering project that would be an impressive feat in any age: He ordered the digging of a 1,750-foot tunnel under the City of David to bring water from the Gihon Spring, which lay outside the city wall, inside the city to a pool on the opposite side of the ridge. In the years that followed, “Hezekiah’s Tunnel” continued to carry fresh water to this section of Jerusalem, and different pools were built here over the centuries, including the Second Temple pool that Jesus knew.