What Are the Apocryphal Gospels? These diverse ancient works expand upon the four canonical Gospels in creative and sometimes subversive ways. Markus Bockmuehl and Jacob RodriguezThe so-called “apocryphal” gospels are a subject of fascination among many today. How do they relate to the four canonical gospels? What are they and why did people read and write them? To start with a definition, the apocryphal gospels are a diverse collection of texts that expand and elaborate on the teachings and narratives of Jesus’ birth and life, ministry, death, and post-resurrection appearances as found in the canonical gospels. These noncanonical writings were produced from the second century onward and provide insights into the diverse and creative ways early Christians interpreted the traditions about Jesus. The major types of noncanonical gospels can be divided into several categories, each with its own focus, including infancy gospels, ministry gospels, passion gospels, and post-resurrection dialogue gospels. These works not only reveal the vibrancy of early Christian imagination but also their theological, pastoral, and often esoteric concerns. We begin with a survey of the various types before returning to the question of why they were produced (and reproduced). Infancy gospels A depiction of Jesus bringing clay birds to life in St. Martin’s church, Switzerland. Encyclopædia Britannica The infancy gospels address a gap in the canonical gospels by focusing on the early life of Jesus. The most famous of these is the Protevangelium of James, which situates Jesus’ birth within a larger narrative about Mary, his mother. This gospel includes popular traditions, such as the names of Mary’s parents (Joachim and Anna), and embellishes the biblical accounts with additional details like Mary riding a donkey to Bethlehem and the birth of Jesus occurring in a cave. The text was well-received in early Christianity and continued to influence Christian piety in later centuries. In contrast, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas presents a more episodic portrayal of Jesus’ childhood, often characterized by playful and even mischievous behavior. The gospel contains stories such as Jesus creating birds out of clay and bringing them to life, as well as his disputes with teachers over the meaning of letters. Unlike the Protevangelium, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas seems to have been more focused on entertainment than religious edification. Both texts, though different in tone and content, reflect an early Christian desire to fill in the gaps of Jesus’ early life, which the canonical gospels leave largely unaddressed. Ministry gospels Several apocryphal gospels focus on Jesus’ ministry, often combining sayings and episodes from the canonical gospels with new material. For example, the Egerton Gospel (Papyrus Egerton 2 + P.Köln VI 255) presents fragments of a narrative that includes a dialogue about Jesus’ authority in comparison to Moses, a miraculous healing of a leper, and a dialogue about the emperor’s rule. These fragments suggest that the Egerton Gospel drew upon both Synoptic and Johannine traditions, creating a composite portrait of Jesus’ ministry. A fragment of the ‘Egerton Gospel’ (P.Köln VI 255). Image source Other fragmentary texts, such as Oxyrhynchus Papyri 840 and 1224, also provide tantalizing glimpses of second-century ministry gospels. These texts include dialogues and debates, sometimes featuring Pharisees or other Jewish authorities. For example, Oxyrhynchus Papyrus 840 contains a debate between Jesus and a Pharisee named Levi, focusing on purity laws. These gospels demonstrate the ongoing interest in Jesus’ teachings and actions, particularly as they related to Jewish religious practices. In addition to these ministry gospels, certain texts categorized as “Jewish Christian Gospels” also emerged. The Gospel of the Hebrews and the Gospel of the Ebionites are two such examples. These texts appear to have drawn heavily from the Gospel of Matthew, and their content includes familiar episodes such as Jesus’ baptism, the Last Supper, and his resurrection. However, they also contain unique material, leading some scholars to consider them distinct gospels, while others view them as recensions or revisions of Matthew. Related Drawing of Jesus teaching in the synagogue by Gustave Doré (1832–1883). Illustration by Peter Gurry. What’s the Big Deal about a New Papyrus with Sayings of Jesus?A second-century date for a new Greek fragment with gospel material makes it unique among papyri. Michael W. Holmes Passion gospels The apocryphal passion gospels focus on the events surrounding Jesus’ death, often with theological or narrative innovations that distinguish them from the canonical accounts. The Gospel of Peter, for instance, presents a distinctive version of the passion narrative, emphasizing the guilt of the Jewish leaders and downplaying the role of Pontius Pilate. This gospel also features a dramatic and theologically rich resurrection account, in which Jesus emerges from the tomb accompanied by two angels, towering over the earth. Other passion gospels, such as the Fayyum Fragment (Papyrus Vindobonensis G. 2325), offer only small portions of the passion narrative, such as Jesus predicting Peter’s denial. Although these texts do not provide a full passion account, they highlight the continued interest in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. One of the most notorious of the passion gospels is the Gospel of Judas, which presents a radically different interpretation of Judas’s role in Jesus’ betrayal. Far from being a simple traitor, Judas is portrayed as Jesus’ most trusted disciple, the one who understood his true nature and mission. This gospel, linked to Gnostic theology, presents a subversive reinterpretation of the passion story, challenging mainstream early Christian understandings of Jesus’ death and its salvific significance. Post-resurrection dialogue gospels The post-resurrection dialogues fill another gap in the canonical narratives, where the risen Jesus speaks little compared to his pre-resurrection ministry. These gospels often present a timeless Jesus in extended conversations with his disciples, revealing esoteric teachings or hidden wisdom. The Gospel of Thomas is perhaps the best-known of these texts. It consists of 114 secret sayings of the “living Jesus,” many of which parallel the Synoptic gospels, but others reflect a Gnosticizing interpretation of Jesus’ message. The Gospel of the Lots of Mary (6th c.) is a miniature codex with 37 oracles attributed to Jesus’ mother. Harvard Art Museums/Arthur M. Sackler Museum Other post-resurrection dialogue gospels, such as the Gospel of Mary and the Apocryphon of James, emphasize Jesus’ communication with specific disciples, often Mary Magdalene or James, to whom he reveals special, secret knowledge. The Gospel of Mary portrays Mary as a key figure in understanding Jesus’ teachings, especially regarding the soul’s journey after death. The text suggests a spiritual hierarchy in which Mary has access to wisdom that even Peter and the other apostles do not. In contrast, the Epistula Apostolorum (“Epistle of the Apostles”) offers a more orthodox portrayal of the post-resurrection period, emphasizing the collective witness of the apostles to the risen Christ. This text serves as a defense of the apostolic tradition, countering the more esoteric and individualistic post-resurrection dialogues found in other apocryphal gospels. Gospel harmonies and Marcion’s ‘Euangelion’ In addition to composing original gospels, second-century Christians also engaged in the harmonization of existing gospels. The most famous example is Tatian’s Diatessaron, a gospel harmony that combined material from all four canonical gospels into a single continuous narrative. This project reflected a desire to synthesize the Jesus tradition, creating a unified account from the diverse and sometimes divergent canonical sources. A little earlier in the second century, Marcion’s Euangelion (“Gospel”) represents a very different approach. Marcion accepted only Luke’s gospel and heavily redacted it, excising any references to Jewish prophecy or the Old Testament. His gospel reflects his theological agenda of separating the Creator God of the Old Testament from the Redeemer God revealed in Jesus. Marcion’s approach stands in stark contrast to the harmonizing tendencies of other early Christians, who sought to preserve the fullness of the Jesus tradition and its connection to the Old Testament. Related Portraits of the four evangelists from GA 773 (10th c.) Why There Are Just Four Gospels in the BibleDespite tales of conspiracy, there are good historical and theological reasons why the Church recognized four—and only four—Gospels. C. E. Hill Why the Apocryphal gospels were written and read When many Christians today learn about these Apocryphal Gospels, their first question is often Why? Why did people write these gospels and why did others read them? The proliferation of apocryphal gospels in the second century can be attributed to several factors. First, these gospels allowed early Christians to fill in gaps left by the canonical gospels, especially regarding Jesus’ early life and his post-resurrection appearances. The Infancy Gospels and post-resurrection dialogues are prime examples of this. They have sometimes been characterized as an ancient form of fan fiction. Second, the apocryphal gospels were read for entertainment and moral instruction. The Infancy Gospel of Thomas, with its playful stories of the boy Jesus, likely entertained its readers while also offering lessons about Jesus’ divinity and humanity. These gospels often reflect theological and pastoral concerns specific to particular Christian communities. Third, these gospels often reflect theological and pastoral concerns specific to particular Christian communities. For example, the Gnostic gospels, such as the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Judas, express a worldview that emphasized secret knowledge (gnosis) and rejected the material world in favor of spiritual enlightenment. These texts catered to the spiritual needs of communities that valued esoteric wisdom and saw themselves as possessing deeper insights into Jesus’ teachings. On the other hand, texts like the Epistula Apostolorum arguably were written by proto-orthodox authors in the service of canonical gospels, validating their apostolic authority and promoting their use as Scripture alongside the Old Testament. Finally, the apocryphal gospels reveal the diversity of early Christian beliefs and practices. While the four canonical gospels became increasingly authoritative, other gospel compositions demonstrate awareness of them to various degrees and were often read alongside them. Diverse groups continued to produce and read augmented narratives or alternative sayings that aligned with their theological perspectives. In this sense, some apocryphal gospels served as a way for marginalized or heterodox groups to preserve their traditions and interpretations of Jesus. That said, the historical evidence suggests that apocryphal gospels did not generate or sustain an independently viable alternative tradition either of Jesus’s life or of a rival collection to the fourfold gospel. Rather, they typically presupposed a widespread acceptance of the canonical gospels as the authoritative center of gravity for the Jesus tradition. Apocryphal gospels did not generate or sustain an independently viable alternative tradition. Conclusion The apocryphal gospels represent a rich and diverse body of literature that expands upon the canonical gospels in creative and sometimes subversive ways. Whether filling in gaps, offering new theological insights, or harmonizing existing traditions, these texts reflect the vibrant and complex world of early Christian thought. Their composition and reception reveal not only the diversity of early Christian beliefs about Jesus but also the enduring, unparalleled influence of the four canonical gospels, which provided the foundation upon which much of this creative gospel writing was built.
B. H. Streeter’s Four Gospels at One Hundred How does the Oxford don’s influential argument for ‘local texts’ of the Gospels hold up after 100 years? Peter R. RodgersThis year, 2024, marks an important centennial for the study of the New Testament text. In 1924, the Oxford scholar Burnett Hillman Streeter published his important book, The Four Gospels: A Study in Origins. Concerning this book Bishop Stephen Neill wrote, In 1924 Streeter published a large book of over 600 pages, called The Four Gospels: A Study in Origins, a comprehensive gathering together of the results of the scientific study of The Gospels up till that time. That this is a great book, will not, I think, be doubted by anyone who has ever used it.1Stephen Neill and Tom Wright, The Interpretation of the New Testament, 1861–1986, New Edition. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 132. A theory of Gospel origins In this book Streeter laid out what became the primary theory of Synoptic Gospel origins: The four-source hypothesis. The four sources were (1) the Gospel of Mark; (2) a source of material common to Matthew and Luke, but not in Mark—referred to as Q, from the German Quelle (“source”); (3) M, which was material unique to Matthew; and (4) L, containing material only in Luke. Although there have been alternate views, such as Matthean priority, in the century since Streeter published this book, most scholars have followed some form of Streeter’s four-source hypothesis. In the course of his treatment of Gospel origins, Streeter advanced several theories which have not fared well. In the course of his treatment of Gospel origins, Streeter advanced several theories which have not fared well among scholars. One was the proposal of a document prior to our Gospel of Luke, which he called “Proto-Luke.” Another was the proposal of a Caesarean textual group or text type, based on several recent manuscript discoveries. Both of these proposals were subjected to careful analysis and have been largely abandoned. A third proposal, positing “local texts” of the great ecclesiastical jurisdictions or sees in the second century, has also been largely ignored by scholars. This brief review will focus on Streeter’s “local texts” in light of recent discoveries and refined research methods. A theory of local texts of the Gospels Streeter advanced a theory of “local texts” which developed in the great sees of the church in the second century. The five sees that developed their distinctive local texts, according to Streeter, were Alexandria Antioch Caesarea Italy and Gaul Carthage For each of these local texts Streeter gave as the primary witness one of the major manuscripts known to him in 1924. Thus for Alexandria he presented Codex Vaticanus (B), for Italy and Gaul Codex Bezae (D), for Carthage the Latin manuscript k, etc. Streeter also explored an “Ephesian text” for the period of the late second century. But that text was not included in his summary chart because no major manuscript could be found to represent that text. Streeter’s chart summarizing his local texts and their witnesses. Source What Streeter did not have when he wrote The Four Gospels in 1924 is the wealth of New Testament papyri which we now possess (some 141 at latest count). Several of these are assigned to the second century, the era of the great sees of which Streeter wrote. Although some of these papyri are fragmentary, there are several larger papyri such as P46 (Pauline Epistles) P66 (John) and P75 (Luke and John). These three papyri, dated to around the year 200 have been very important for textual criticism in considering the early text of the New Testament. But it is important to be clear about how secure their dating is.2See Brent Nongbri, God’s library: The Archeology of the early Christian Manuscripts (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2018). For challenges to traditional dating of early papyri. It also must be remembered that, although the early papyri were all found in Egypt, it does not follow that any one of them originated there.3Eldon Jay Epp, Perspectives in New Testament Textual Criticism: Collected Essays, 1962–2004 (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 408, 419. What follows is a comparison of two churches in the late second century, and a proposal about their “local texts,” based on recent research on these two churches. A tale of two churches Alexandria Egypt was “behindhand in welcoming Christianity,” Streeter wrote in the book. That cryptic remark has been confirmed by subsequent study of the subject. In his landmark work entitled Manuscript, Society and Belief in Early Christian Egypt, Colin Roberts wrote, The obscurity that veils the early history of the Church in Egypt and that does not lift until the beginning of the third century constitutes a conspicuous challenge to the historian of primitive Christianity.4Colin H. Roberts, Manuscript, Society and Belief in Early Christian Egypt: The Schweich Lectures of the British Academy for 1977 (London: Oxford University Press, 1979), 1. So also Bruce M. Metzger, The Early Versions of the New Testament (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), 99 who writes, “The origins of the church in Egypt are enveloped in deep obscurity.” More recently, noted papyrologist Roger Bagnall has pointed out that the evidence for Christianity in Egypt is non-existent in the documentary papyri until the beginning of the third century AD.5Roger S. Bagnall, Early Christian Books in Egypt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009), 8. The obscurity of the church in second century Egypt is best explained by the observation that the early Christian community there was largely Jewish. We know that the Jewish community in Egypt did not fare well under the Romans. Especially the Jewish revolt from AD 115–117 led to much death and destruction and had long lasting effects.6For an account of the Jewish revolt and its aftermath see Victor A. Techerikover and Alexander Fuks, Corpus Papyrorum Judicarum (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960), vol. 2, 225–60. And recently, Noah Hacham, Tal Ilan (eds.). Corpus Papyrorum Judaicarum Volume 5: The Early Roman Period (Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter Oldenbourg; Jerusalem: Magnes Hebrew University Press, 2022). Get new articles and updates in your inbox. Leave this field empty if you're human: But toward the end of the second century the fortunes of the church in Egypt began to change. The founding of the Alexandrian Catechetical school under Pantaenus and Clement, and the long episcopate of Demetrius (AD 192–232) transformed a small and struggling church into the leading intellectual center of the third century church. Now it was a church capable of producing carefully copied texts, and faithfully preserving the New Testament. Ephesus The church in Ephesus had almost the opposite career. With regard to this church and its local text, we may begin by quoting the important observations made by Paul Treblico. In his significant study, he writes that Ephesus was the capital of the province of Asia and the leading city of Asia Minor, where the church grew very rapidly. There is no doubting the importance of the Church in Asia Minor in the first two centuries. Paul spent a considerable period of time in Asia Minor, and Luke devotes a significant amount of Acts to Paul’s travels in this region. That the early Church grew very quickly in Asia Minor is shown by the number of centers in which, according to our evidence, the early church became established by the end of the second century… In the aftermath of the fall of Jerusalem following the first Jewish revolt of AD 66–73 Anatolia had become perhaps the most important geographical center of Christianity in the ancient world. The remains of the library at ancient Ephesus. Source But before the end of the second century, things began to change, and Ephesus would lose its prominence. Perhaps the most important factor was the the debate over the date of Easter known as the Quartodeciman controversy. The long standing tradition in Asia was to celebrate Easter on the fourteenth Nisan, the day of the Passover, whatever day of the week it fell. The church of Rome saw the matter differently and believed that Easter must always be celebrated on a Sunday. For a long time, the churches agreed to disagree and respect each other’s tradition. But when the tolerant and pastoral Eleutherus, Bishop of Rome, died in AD 189, he was replaced by Victor, a north African who insisted that all churches celebrate the great feast on a Sunday. Polycrates, the Bishop of Ephesus, wrote to Victor pleading for toleration. Victor replied by insisting on the Roman way and excommunicating Ephesus and the Asian churches. From AD 190 onward, Asia in general, and Ephesus in particular, seems to have lost its premier position. We do not find in the third-century Asian church the strong cast of leaders such as one finds in the second century: Papias of Hierapolis, Polycarp of Smyrna, Melito of Sardis, Apollinaris of Hierapolis, Polycrates of Ephesus, and others. To his credit, Streeter knew that such an important local church in Asia, with its great see at Ephesus, must have had its own distinctive local text. He therefore sets out to discover “the text of Ephesus” on the basis of the available evidence. His conclusion was that the evidence was far too scanty to draw any definite conclusions. Further he remarked that text of Ephesus would have succumbed at an early date to the standard text found in the two dominant patriarchates, Antioch and Constantinople so that it “was swamped at an early date and has left no trace on the manuscript tradition.” RelatedThe Jefferson Bible and the Faith of an American FounderThomas S. KiddWhy There Are Just Four Gospels in the BibleC. E. HillHow the Two Testaments Became One BibleMichael Dormandy This comparative study of two second-century churches presents us with an anomaly. In Egypt, we find several early and carefully copied New Testament papyri, but we also find the profile of a small and struggling church hardly capable of producing strict and careful manuscripts. On the other hand, the church in Asia/Ephesus was well developed with strong leadership but has left us no trace of its local text. What do we make of this tale of two churches? A home for a homeless text In 1881, B. F. Westcott and F. J. A. Hort published their influential edition of the Greek New Testament. This critical edition dominated the landscape in New Testament studies for decades thereafter. A distinctive feature of Hort’s rationale in the introduction to their New Testament is his proposal of the “neutral text.” This was the text of Codex Vaticanus (B) and Codex Sinaiticus (א) where they agree. Concerning Hort’s “neutral text” Streeter wrote, “Hort declined to recognize any connection of B א with Alexandria … and assigned it to no definite locality.” Hort’s neutral text was homeless and needed a home. Hort’s neutral text was homeless and needed a home. Most scholars of the text in the generations following the publication of the Westcott-Hort text assigned that text to Alexandria, and Streeter followed suit. It remains exactly there in twenty-first-century presentations of how the New Testament text developed.7Bruce M. Metzger and Bart D. Ehrman, The Text of the New Testament, 312–313. However, in light of the history sketched briefly above, it seems unlikely that the “neutral text” began its life in Alexandria.8I have recently argued that the “Alexandrian text” did not originate there but came originally from Ephesus. See Peter R. Rodgers, “The Origins of the Alexandrian Text of the New Testament,” Filologia Neotestamentaria, XXXV (2022), 61–65. The chief city of Asia, with its strong church of the second century, provides an appropriate home for the “neutral text.” Toward the end of the century, when the church of Ephesus began to struggle and the church in Alexandria was gaining strength, that text migrated to the place that was to become the intellectual capital of the whole church from the third century. The neutral text was given new life in its new home. So, what is the final analysis of Streeter’s important work a century later? Streeter was Dean Ireland’s Professor of Biblical Exegesis in Oxford, where he did most of his work. It’s a place Matthew Arnold famously called “the home of lost causes.” And while this may sometimes be the case, for the reasons stated above, a fresh pursuit of the local texts of the great sees in the second century, far from being a lost cause, may turn out to be a very promising and fruitful exercise. Perhaps the century after Streeter will finally answer the question. A larger version of this paper may be found in Filologia Neotestamentaria, 37 (2024): 65–74 which is online here.Notes1Stephen Neill and Tom Wright, The Interpretation of the New Testament, 1861–1986, New Edition. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 132.2See Brent Nongbri, God’s library: The Archeology of the early Christian Manuscripts (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2018). For challenges to traditional dating of early papyri.3Eldon Jay Epp, Perspectives in New Testament Textual Criticism: Collected Essays, 1962–2004 (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 408, 419.4Colin H. Roberts, Manuscript, Society and Belief in Early Christian Egypt: The Schweich Lectures of the British Academy for 1977 (London: Oxford University Press, 1979), 1. So also Bruce M. Metzger, The Early Versions of the New Testament (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), 99 who writes, “The origins of the church in Egypt are enveloped in deep obscurity.”5Roger S. Bagnall, Early Christian Books in Egypt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009), 8.6For an account of the Jewish revolt and its aftermath see Victor A. Techerikover and Alexander Fuks, Corpus Papyrorum Judicarum (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960), vol. 2, 225–60. And recently, Noah Hacham, Tal Ilan (eds.). Corpus Papyrorum Judaicarum Volume 5: The Early Roman Period (Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter Oldenbourg; Jerusalem: Magnes Hebrew University Press, 2022).7Bruce M. Metzger and Bart D. Ehrman, The Text of the New Testament, 312–313.8I have recently argued that the “Alexandrian text” did not originate there but came originally from Ephesus. See Peter R. Rodgers, “The Origins of the Alexandrian Text of the New Testament,” Filologia Neotestamentaria, XXXV (2022), 61–65.
Paul and the Septuagint Canon What do the apostle’s quotations of the Septuagint tell us about his view of the Old Testament canon? Edmon L. GallagherThe apostle Paul quoted Scripture more than a hundred times in his thirteen canonical letters, but he never identified the version of Scripture that he used. Why bother?—you may think—everyone knows he used the Septuagint (LXX). He was obviously not quoting Scripture in the original language, because he was writing in Greek, not Hebrew, so he had to quote a translation. The LXX was the obvious choice. There are problems with the simple statement that Paul quoted the LXX, however, and this essay focuses on one: did Paul know he was quoting the LXX? The expanding definition of ‘Septuagint’ Whether Paul knew that he was quoting the Septuagint depends on what we mean by that term, Septuagint. Certainly, Paul knew that he was quoting Scripture in Greek and, if that’s all we mean by the term Septuagint, then Paul certainly did know. But “Septuagint” is also an ancient term associated with a particular origin story, and so we might ask whether Paul was familiar with the story and what he thought about it. Related Illustration by Peter Gurry. Images from iStock The Most Important Bible Translation You’ve Never Heard ofUsed by the Apostles and the early church, the Greek translations of the Old Testament may be the most important ever made. William A. Ross Here is the story: King Ptolemy II Philadelphus in the early third century BC commissioned seventy—or, actually, seventy-two—Jewish scholars (six from each of the twelve tribes) to translate Jewish Scripture into Greek. The translation came to be called “the translation of the Seventy,” or “the translation of the Hebdomēkonta” (in Greek, ἑβδομήκοντα), or, in Latin, “the translation of the Septuaginta.” That explains the common abbreviation LXX, a Roman numeral. Ancient sources for the term We can be more specific: our ancient Jewish sources for the story all specify that the portion of Jewish Scripture translated for Ptolemy was the Pentateuch. These Jewish sources include: The Letter of Aristeas second century BC Aristobulus (frg. 3, preserved in Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel 13.12), second century BC Philo (Life of Moses 2.25–44), first century AD Josephus (Antiquities of the Jews 12.11–118) Talmud, specifically b. Megillah 9a §11. The traditions of the Talmud are hard to date, but this type of tradition called a baraita has been dated as early as the first century AD. Not all of these sources mention the number of translators; Philo does not. But each of them mentions Ptolemy and that the translation project involved the Torah alone. Modern scholars rightly discount this entire story as a later propagandistic fabrication designed to magnify the authority of the early Greek translation of the Torah, but that is not our concern here; we are interested in how ancient people thought about the LXX. ‘Septuagint’ before Christianity Other portions of Jewish Scripture were also translated into Greek, but they were not incorporated into the story of the translation for Ptolemy. We do not have, for instance, a story about the translation of Isaiah or Samuel or Proverbs or the Psalter, but we do know that these works were translated into Greek at some point in the third through first centuries BC because we have the Greek texts and many of the books of Jewish Scripture were quoted by Greek authors. RelatedThe Most Important Bible Translation You’ve Never Heard ofWilliam A. RossThe Bible Jesus ReadJohn D. Meade The New Testament quotes most of these books, so the translations must have been largely complete by the lifetime of Jesus. Most scholars would say that many of the books were translated already in the second century BC, in part because the translator of the apocryphal book of Sirach in the late second century BC mentions in a general way the Greek forms of the law, the prophets, and other books. (This is in the prologue to Greek Sirach.) These other works (Greek Isaiah, Greek Proverbs, etc.) were not considered a part of the LXX—at least, not by the ancient Jewish sources that mention the LXX. For instance, Philo did not consider Greek Isaiah to be a part of the translation for Ptolemy. He knew about the existence of the Greek translation of Isaiah, and he even quoted it on occasion. One example is at On Dreams 2.172, where he introduced a quotation of Isaiah 5:7 with the words, “I have the witness of one of the ancient prophets who under inspiration said…” But when Philo told the story of the translation for Ptolemy, he left Isaiah out of the account and made the story all about the books of Moses. Notice that the title of the work in which Philo told the story is Life of Moses. What was true for Philo was true for Josephus, who also used the Greek translation of most books of Jewish Scripture but considered the LXX to be the Greek Pentateuch and nothing else. To repeat: all of our ancient Jewish sources limited the scope of the LXX to the Torah. ‘Septuagint’ in early Christianity So, how did the “Septuagint” or LXX come to refer to more than just the Torah in Greek? It was Christians who expanded the scope of the translation to include all of Jewish Scripture in Greek. According to the first Christian to mention the translation—Justin Martyr in the mid-second century AD—the translators assembled by Ptolemy produced a Greek version of all of Jewish prophecies, not just the Torah. Justin told the story of translation in his First Apology (ch. 31). Dr. Gallagher’s book explores the Septuagint’s reception in greater detail. This expansion of the scope of translation aided Justin’s apologetics by allowing him to argue against the validity of Greek renderings that he found problematic. For instance, with regard to the “virgin birth” (Isaiah 7:14), Justin was aware of some Greek translations that failed to render the verse with the crucial word “virgin” (parthenos, παρθένος) but instead had “young woman” (neanis, νεᾶνις), against the testimony of “the translation of the Seventy” (Dialogue with Trypho 70–73). Justin argued that the newer version must be wrong because it departed from the authoritative translation produced by the Seventy sages for King Ptolemy. Once the step had been taken, later Christians rarely found it problematic to attribute the translation of all the books of Jewish Scripture to Ptolemy’s court. Again, this aspect of Christian thought about the LXX served as a foundational element in defenses of the text of the traditional Greek Bible as opposed to newer Greek versions associated with the Jewish translators named Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion. How could a Christian believer know that the traditional translation of Jeremiah (or whatever book) was preferable to the version of Jeremiah in one of these later translations? Because the Seventy sages at Ptolemy’s court produced the traditional translation. And why do we trust the Seventy sages? Already Irenaeus of Lyon in the late second century developed several arguments favoring the authority of the Seventy (see Against Heresies 3.21.1–3), of which one of the most important was that the Seventy were inspired by God. The Inspiration of the Septuagint Irenaeus did not completely invent the idea that the Seventy translators were inspired, but he did contribute to the evolving story. More than a century earlier, Philo had already insisted that the translators for Ptolemy did the impossible: they produced a perfect translation that matched the Hebrew both word-for-word and thought-for-thought. They were able to achieve such an amazing translation because God inspired them (Life of Moses 2.38). According to Philo, one who read the Greek Pentateuch alongside the Hebrew Torah (something Philo could not do) would see that they were identical (2.40). Before Philo, the Letter of Aristeas (§307) merely hinted at the involvement of God in the process of translation. Irenaeus inherited from Philo the notion that the translators were inspired, and he attested a story that provided more color to this claim. According to Irenaeus, King Ptolemy decided to test the integrity of the translators by separating them into separate rooms, ordering each of the 72 translators to produce a Greek rendering of Scripture. When the 72 separate translations of Jewish Scripture were compared, it was discovered that all 72 translators had chosen the exact same wording all the way through—a sure sign of not only their accuracy but of their inspiration. This embellished origin story (of which there is a hint in Philo, Life of Moses 2.37) became the standard account of the translation among Christians, who were confident both that the translators were inspired and that they produced the traditional Greek version of all of Jewish Scripture. Get new articles and updates in your inbox. Leave this field empty if you're human: Not everyone was convinced. Jerome, for one, at the turn of the fifth century, challenged the traditional story of LXX origins. While he was producing his own Latin translations of the books of the Hebrew Bible that would become the core of the Latin Vulgate, he pointed out flaws in Christian thinking about the LXX. The Jewish sources—Jerome named The Letter of Aristeas and Josephus—limited the translation to the Pentateuch (Commentary on Ezekiel 5:12) and said nothing about the translators working in separate rooms (Preface to the Pentateuch). But Jerome was fighting a losing battle; the translation, in the minds of most Christians, continued to include all of Jewish Scripture. This leads us back to the Apostle Paul. Paul’s Septuagint The fact that Paul used the Septuagint is well-known, not only among New Testament scholars, but also among more educated general Bible readers (the type who read articles from the Text & Canon Institute). But this well-known fact about Paul raises several questions in terms of the identity of the Septuagint, questions of both text and canon. To briefly gesture toward the problem of text: not all of the apostle’s quotations align well with the traditional text of the LXX. Paul apparently sometimes used Greek revisions (something like the Theodotion text), sometimes quoted from memory, and sometimes paraphrased, sometimes adjusted the quotation to fit the point he wanted to make. The simple statement that “Paul quoted the LXX” disguises the complexity of his Scriptural texts. Painting of St. Paul, ca. 1627–1729 by Jan Lievens. Image source Even when he was quoting the LXX, did he know that he was quoting the LXX? Paul never mentioned the translation, nor the story of the translation, so we cannot really know if the apostle had ever heard about the translators gathered by Ptolemy. Maybe Paul simply used the Greek text available to him without knowing or caring about its precise origins. If Paul did know about the translation for Ptolemy, what would he have thought about it? What books were included? As we have seen, all of our Jewish sources limit the scope of the translation for Ptolemy to the Pentateuch, even though some of these same sources also knew and used Greek translations of other books of Jewish Scripture. For Philo and Josephus, the Greek Isaiah did not count as LXX. Did it count as LXX for Paul? As far as we know, the first person who treated a book outside the Torah as the LXX was Justin Martyr—a century after Paul. It is possible that the expansion of the scope of the LXX beyond the Torah as attested first by Justin had already happened in the days of Paul, but I cannot think of any evidence to suggest that it had. If Paul learned about the story of the translation—say, at the “feet of Gamaliel” (cf. Acts 22:3)—it would probably have been a story about the Pentateuch, not about other books of Scripture, books that were available in Greek but considered a part of a different translation project not made for Ptolemy. The first person who treated a book outside the Torah as the LXX was Justin Martyr. Paul and the Septuagint’s inspiration Philo thought that the translators at Ptolemy’s court were inspired, that the translation itself was inspired in Greek. Later Christians, starting with Irenaeus, express the same belief. Did Paul share this conviction? If the apostle did consider the LXX inspired, presumably that belief would have applied only to the Greek Pentateuch—as it did for Philo. We should remember that Philo said that perfect translation is impossible without divine inspiration, and that such a thing had happened for the Greek Pentateuch. Philo said nothing about God’s involvement with the translation of Isaiah or Proverbs or Samuel (etc.), so evidently he would not have considered the translations of these books to be perfect. We cannot say whether Paul shared Philo’s ideas on the inspiration of the LXX, but at least we can say that someone contemporary with Paul did express those ideas. The notion that all of Jewish Scripture was inspired in Greek, expressed first by Irenaeus, long post-dates Paul’s death, so there is less reason to think that Paul may have held it. But Philo’s views were not the only views on the LXX “in the air” in the first century; Josephus said nothing about the inspiration of the translators of the Greek Pentateuch. Paul and the Septuagint canon If this is what Paul might have thought about the LXX as a translation, what about the hitherto unmentioned “elephants in the room,” namely, the apocrypha, or the deuterocanonical books? It is often claimed by scholars that these books came to be accepted as Scripture among Christians because the LXX included them. Is it possible that the LXX already included these books in the first century? Since Paul quoted the LXX, did he also regard the apocrypha as not only a part of the LXX but a part of his Bible? The biblical scholar R. Timothy McLay pursues this line of argument. The fact that the OG/LXX text was cited in the NT, in contrast to the Hebrew Scriptures, demonstrates that the Greek Jewish Scriptures as witnessed to by the LXX were deemed to be Scripture for the Early Church…. The external evidence of our Greek codices, which contain the apocryphal/deutero-canonical writings, is a simple testimony to the authority of the Greek Scriptures exercised in the life of the Early Church.1R. Timothy McLay, The Use of the Septuagint in New Testament Research (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 144. I think McLay’s argument boils down to this: if the New Testament authors quoted the LXX, then they accepted as Scripture the collection of books in the LXX manuscripts of the fourth century. Do the quotations of the LXX in Paul’s letters mean that the apostle accepted the canonicity of the apocrypha? The short answer is “no”—or, with a little more nuance, the available evidence suggests otherwise. The apocryphal books (e.g., Tobit, Judith, Maccabees, etc.) were available in Greek by the first century, and Paul had probably read some of these books. But what evidence suggests that anyone in the first century considered these books a part of the LXX, the translation made for Ptolemy? I know I am repeating myself, but … all of our sources before Justin Martyr considered the LXX to be the Greek Pentateuch. Related Paintings of Jerome and Augustine. Illustration by Peter Gurry and Josh Koch. Why Are Protestant and Catholic Bibles Different?Knowledge of the Bible’s history clears away the caricatures and misinformation swirling around this common question. John D. Meade The apocrypha are included within the LXX today—whether we are talking about the Greek Orthodox biblical canon (which is not definitively settled) or the standard hand-edition of the Septuaginta that sits on the shelves of most biblical scholars. But what is true today was not necessarily true in the first century. It was Justin who first labeled as LXX a book outside the Pentateuch. Did Justin think that the Seventy translators also produced the Greek versions of the apocryphal books? He did not say. It was Epiphanius in the fourth century who first said something about the Seventy translators working on books outside the Jewish Bible (On Weights and Measures 5). Yes, the full biblical manuscripts from the fourth century include some of the apocryphal books, but is the reason for this inclusion that the creators of these manuscripts thought that these books were translated by the Seventy? As far as I can tell, these early full-Bible manuscripts mention the Seventy only once, in the colophon to Genesis in Codex Vaticanus (Γένεσις κατὰ τοὺς ἑβδομήκοντα = “Genesis according to the Seventy”). Even if all of the books in the Old Testament portion of Vaticanus were considered LXX (which I doubt), we lack the evidence to back-date such a view three centuries. The use of the LXX by the New Testament authors has no bearing on what the apostles thought of the apocrypha. The use of the LXX by the New Testament authors has no bearing on what the apostles thought of the apocrypha. Conclusion Did Paul know he was quoting the LXX? It’s impossible to say. He may have realized that (some of) his quotations of the Pentateuch would have been considered by some of his contemporaries (e.g., Philo, but not Josephus) as quotations of an inspired translation made for King Ptolemy. There is hardly any reason to think that Paul would have associated this view with the Greek Isaiah, and even less for the Greek Tobit. To the extent that the LXX was a concrete object in the first-century world of Paul, it was the Greek Pentateuch. The other books, including the apocrypha, were incorporated into the LXX only a century or more after the apostle’s death.Notes1R. Timothy McLay, The Use of the Septuagint in New Testament Research (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 144.
Dating Ancient Manuscripts with Help from Modern Software Dating Greek manuscripts by handwriting can be precarious, but a new method may put the results on firmer ground. Pat SandersPaleographers perform an important initial step in the textual criticism of the Bible, from studying the development of ancient Greek handwriting to determining the date and provenance of undated manuscripts. One maxim of textual criticism is that, all things being equal, the earliest readings are preferred. However, ancient literary manuscripts often were not dated by their scribes, so how are we to determine the date of undated biblical manuscripts? Traditional dating methods Aside from using modern scientific methods that may damage a manuscript, sometimes there are clues that we can use to determine a date. For example: Some manuscripts have a colophon. This is a note appended to the end of the manuscript by a scribe. It may provide a date and other information, yet sometimes colophons have been forged, even in antiquity, to make a manuscript appear older. The archeological context may produce a relative date for dating some manuscripts. Sometimes a documentary manuscript like a deed or will was reused, usually by writing on the opposite side of the document that is dated, which also produces a relative date. Some manuscripts have none of these “helps” for dating. In that case, paleographers traditionally date a manuscript by its writing style. This is the most common method. In this last procedure, paleographers classify the handwriting of dated manuscripts into various handwriting styles, which have been ordered chronologically by century. Then, to determine a date for an undated manuscript, they compare the script of the undated manuscript to these chronologically ordered styles. Paleography is often considered more of an art than a science. Having begun in the eighteenth century, the field of paleography is relatively young, and yet a surprising number of issues have developed with this methodology. For example, the definitions of the various handwriting styles can lack clarity, since the same adjectives, like upright and round, are used to describe multiple styles. Furthermore, scribes employed multiple styles during the same time period, so a clear linear progression from one style to the other does not always occur. These two issues alone can make a comparison of parallel writing styles difficult, so scholars spend many years developing their expertise. Thus, paleography is often considered more of an art than a science. Traces of subjectivity Over the years, some manuscripts have been wrongly dated. Ernest Colwell highlighted one case: “There is in Leningrad one folio of a Greek Gospel for which [Caspar Rene] Gregory accepted the date AD 1247. Yet he assigned the manuscript on Mount Sinai from which it was taken to the fourteenth century.”1Ernest C. Colwell, Studies in Methodology in Textual Criticism of the New Testament, ed. Bruce M. Metzger, NTTS 9 (Leiden: Brill, 1969), 125. Pasquale Orsini confirmed the difficulty in dating manuscripts using the examples of P.Kellis Lit. II 97 and the Codex Tchacos, for which paleographic dating contradicts the scientific data, and even the historical and archaeological contexts relating to these manuscripts.2Pasquale Orsini, Studies on Greek and Coptic Majuscule Scripts and Books, vol. 15 of Studies in Manuscript Cultures, eds. Michael Friedrich, Harunaga Issacson, and Jorg B. Quenzer (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2019), xiii–xiv. In a recent example, Georgi Parpulov redated the important New Testament manuscript GA 35 from the eleventh century to the fourteenth century. This manuscript is considered a prime representative of the Byzantine text and so was the base text for The Gospel According to John in the Byzantine Tradition published in 2007. Papyrus 52 (2nd c.) on display at the John Rylands Library. Source Perhaps problems, such as these, stem from the subjective nature of the methodology traditionally employed. Brent Nongbri has highlighted several issues with the use of handwriting styles, such as circularity and potential bias toward early manuscripts. In his study of manuscript P75, Nongbri cautioned against dating papyri too early. He was concerned that most parallels chosen for dating P75 were themselves paleographically dated, and therefore, they were not independent witnesses for a second-century date for P75.3Brent Nongbri, “Reconsidering the Place of Papyrus Bodmer XIV–XV (P75) in the Textual Criticism of the New Testament,” JBL 135 (2016): 408. In another case, according to Nongbri, leading scholars use the widely accepted, second-century dating of manuscript P52 in assessing the date of the Gospel of John, yet Nongbri maintained that P52 has the same attributes as third-century papyri, which should broaden the acceptable date range for this manuscript.4Brent Nongbri, “The Use and Abuse of P52: Papyrological Pitfalls in the Dating of the Fourth Gospel,” HTR 98 (2005): 23–32. Not all have accepted Nongbri’s results, but his work is a reminder that paleographically dating manuscripts has been subject to controversy and debate among scholars regarding the accuracy actually obtained by this process. Using computational modeling The need for a more objective approach is apparent. Models are key to discovering patterns, testing predictions, communicating explanations from the known to the unknown, and ultimately, gaining objectivity. Furthermore, employing a graphical modeling and analysis tool, like decision tree ensembling, allows a user to see the results of an analysis easily. Another benefit of a decision tree model is that it is appropriate to use when a series of decisions need to be made to determine an answer, which corresponds nicely to the procedure for dating a manuscript. Therefore, the purpose of my research is to determine whether computational modeling may be used to provide a more objective basis for dating ancient Greek manuscripts. Get new articles and updates in your inbox. Leave this field empty if you're human: The research for this project proceeded in three broad steps. First, a group, or domain, of similar manuscripts was chosen, which included Greek minuscule literary manuscripts for the initial project. In other words, manuscripts selected to be modeled had to be written in the Greek language in the minuscule hand, which is a script having lower-case letters that are sometimes connected. Furthermore, the contents of the manuscripts had to be literary in nature rather than the every-day type of documents known as documentary. In addition, only internally dated manuscripts were used, rather than manuscripts dated paleographically to a century or range of centuries. These manuscripts were chosen from the collections at Oxford’s Bodleian Library, the Cambridge University Library, the BNF in Paris, and the University of Michigan’s Harlan Hatcher Graduate Library. Additional manuscripts for the model were selected from the online collection at the Center for the Study of New Testament Manuscripts. RelatedThe Changing Fortunes of Codex VaticanusAn-Ting YiFour Ways Scholars Date Early Hebrew Bible ManuscriptsDrew LongacreWhat Pastors Should Know about Developments in Textual CriticismPeter J. Gurry Second, the structure of the model had to be devised and the manuscripts analyzed against it. To devise the model, secondary literature on paleography at the Tyndale House Library in Cambridge was reviewed to accumulate a list of over 100 attributes of Greek minuscule literary manuscripts. These attributes are “omnitextual,” meaning they are not only about the shapes of letters and ligatures, but also include codicological and orthographical attributes, such as the material of the manuscript and the shapes of breathing marks. In order to work with the attributes programmatically, the attributes are also discrete, or granular, rather than a combination of various characteristics like handwriting styles would be. The chosen dated manuscripts were compared against this list of attributes to record evidence for the existence of these attributes in each century in which the manuscripts were written. Thus, the corresponding attributes were noted for each dated manuscript in order to build a model of the Greek minuscule literary domain. This procedure is called training the model. Third, a second set of dated Greek minuscule literary manuscripts was selected in order to test, or validate, the accuracy of the model, which has been named Omnitext™. In blind tests, these manuscripts were compared to the model and computations made for each century in which a corresponding attribute was found. This procedure is called ensembling. Attribute9th c.10th11th12th13th14th15th16th17th✔✔✔✔✔✔✔✔✔ ✔✔✔✔✔Each script attribute gets a “vote” for each century in which it is used. For example, if a matching attribute from a manuscript appeared in the model throughout the minuscule period, from the ninth through the seventeenth centuries, every century receives a point, also called a vote. However, if the next matching attribute only appeared in the model from the thirteenth through the seventeenth centuries, then only those centuries receive a vote. In this example, the thirteenth through seventeenth centuries rise in importance, and the ninth through twelfth centuries fall in importance. The matching of corresponding attributes continues for approximately 100 attributes, and the plausible date further narrows. When all attributes have been examined, the votes for each century are aggregated to produce a secure date based on the evidence in the model. The century with the most votes is the predicted “winner.” If there is a tie, a date-range between the centuries is predicted. For each test, the model predicted the correct date, either to the century or to a range of centuries including the correct date. The test results indicate that a decision tree model using ensembling can provide a more objective means to determine a secure date range for those manuscripts that are undated. The future From Omnitext, which is software with a patent pending with international license based on this methodology, three reports may be obtained about the manuscript examined. First, and most importantly, is the date prediction. Second is a report of the most impactful attributes for dating the manuscript, in other words, the attributes that helped narrow the date range. Third is a report of the dated manuscript in the model that most closely matches the undated manuscript that was compared to the model, based on their corresponding attributes. Thus, Omnitext is providing evidence for paleographical decisions and, in this way, commending the field as more of a science than an art. Omnitext is providing evidence for paleographical decisions and, in this way, commending the field as more of a science than an art. Recently, Omnitext has been integrated with the New Testament Virtual Manuscript Room at the Institute for New Testament Textual Research at the University of Münster. The goal is to include other researchers in the paleographical analyses of manuscripts by comparing manuscripts to the model. This procedure is called a correlation. Recently, a graduate student has tested the process and students at Birmingham Theological Seminary, Samford University, and New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary are making Omnitext correlations. If you would like a demonstration of the process or want to analyze a manuscript against the Omnitext model (or have your students do so), please see Omnitext.org and contact Dr. Pat Sanders. With the development of this new tool, a more secure and objective date range based on evidence may be obtained in dating Greek minuscule manuscripts.Notes1Ernest C. Colwell, Studies in Methodology in Textual Criticism of the New Testament, ed. Bruce M. Metzger, NTTS 9 (Leiden: Brill, 1969), 125.2Pasquale Orsini, Studies on Greek and Coptic Majuscule Scripts and Books, vol. 15 of Studies in Manuscript Cultures, eds. Michael Friedrich, Harunaga Issacson, and Jorg B. Quenzer (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2019), xiii–xiv.3Brent Nongbri, “Reconsidering the Place of Papyrus Bodmer XIV–XV (P75) in the Textual Criticism of the New Testament,” JBL 135 (2016): 408.4Brent Nongbri, “The Use and Abuse of P52: Papyrological Pitfalls in the Dating of the Fourth Gospel,” HTR 98 (2005): 23–32.
The Changing Fortunes of Codex Vaticanus Today, Codex Vaticanus is treated as a premier biblical manuscript. It was not always so. An-Ting YiAmong those precious treasures kept in the Vatican Library is a fourth-century manuscript of the Greek Bible, with the shelf-mark Vaticanus Graecus 1209. For many, this ancient manuscript is known as the “Codex Vaticanus.” Among biblical scholars, its standard reference is the Roman capital letter B or the two digits 03 (or a combination of these two). This manuscript is generally regarded as one of the pillar witnesses for reconstructing the Greek New Testament. Thanks to the digital era and the generosity and effort of the Vatican Library staff, since 2015, anyone can simply search online and see this elegant manuscript without leaving home. Historically, however, these aspects were not taken for granted. In fact, this manuscript for a long time was not seen as an important witness, its dating was uncertain, its access was limited, and its name was not “Codex Vaticanus.” How can these changes be accounted for? In what follows, I will highlight several of the more interesting aspects of Vaticanus’s changing fortunes over the centuries. From corrupted witness to crowned pillar This manuscript was brought to the scholarly world’s attention by the famous Dutch humanist Desiderius Erasmus (1466–1536). In 1521, he received a letter from his close friend in Rome, Paolo Bombace (1476–1527). He informed Erasmus that a Greek manuscript in the papal library, written in very ancient characters, did not contain the Comma Johanneum (the trinitarian passage at 1 John 5:7). Years later, Erasmus encountered the Spanish scholar Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda (1490–1573), who became one of his many opponents. Sepúlveda wrote against Erasmus’s project of the Greek New Testament by referring to an ancient manuscript in the Vatican Library that has hundreds of differences from Erasmus’s editions. We know today that he was referring to Codex Vaticanus. Related The statue of Erasmus at the University Rotterdam is the oldest statue in the Netherlands. Photo from Flickr Erasmus and the Search for the Original Text of the New TestamentErasmus’s Greek New Testament was a monumental achievement, but left room for later scholars to improve it. Martin Heide Sepúlveda also pointed out that Vaticanus’s text is similar to the underlying Greek text of the Latin Vulgate, thereby supporting the authenticity of the Latin textual tradition against Erasmus’s new and controversial Latin translation that he had based on other Greek manuscripts. In response, Erasmus insisted that the Greek and Latin texts he edited were superior to the texts found in Vaticanus and the Vulgate. In defending his preferred text, Erasmus further came up with a hypothesis that Vaticanus, together with other witnesses like it, must have been corrected according to the Vulgate text, thus making it of little use for his edition. Known as the “Latinization theory,” Erasmus’s proposal would become dominant in the coming two centuries. Consequently, Codex Vaticanus was dismissed by the majority of scholars following Erasmus. Despite its antiquity, it was seen as a “Latinized” and corrupted witness. Such a label was retained all the way until the second half of the eighteenth century. Because of the developments in scholarship, especially the paradigm shift in terms of the way manuscripts were assessed, scholars started looking at this manuscript from another perspective. The German classicist Karl Lachmann (1793–1851) and his Greek New Testament, published in 1831, can be seen as a watershed in text-critical studies. Lachmann highly valued Codex Vaticanus and considered its similarity with the Latin tradition not as the result of corruption but as an indication of a commonly shared, ancient source. Combined with other insights from his contemporaries, Lachmann’s observation became the basis of modern critical scholarship. One of the features that distinguishes Codex Vaticanus is that it contains the Old and New Testament. Facsimile photo by Chandler Nick As a result, subsequent editions of the Greek New Testament were prepared by making heavy use of Vaticanus’s text. Notably, the Cambridge textual critics Brooke Foss Westcott (1825–1901) and Fenton John Anthony Hort (1828–1892) published their influential The New Testament in the Original Greek in 1881, in which they were confident that our manuscript should be seen as the best witness among all the retainable sources. Through Westcott and Hort’s text, Codex Vaticanus bears a lasting impact on many contemporary vernacular New Testament translations. From filtered data to full access Erasmus’s Latinization theory was not the sole factor that caused subsequent scholars to be persuaded. Inaccessibility also played a decisive role. Before the internet and digitization became the norm, examining manuscripts was laborious and luxurious. One had to travel to where a certain manuscript was held, usually in a library or monastery, and stay there to study the manuscript. This came with various challenges, sometimes including a refusal to consult the material. The study of Codex Vaticanus was not an exception. For a long time, Vaticanus was only seen by a few privileged individuals who could obtain the grant from the Vatican authorities. Under such restrictions, scholars outside Rome hardly knew of any readings from this manuscript. Particularly in the seventeenth and the first half of the eighteenth centuries, they usually had to rely on a 1580 publication by Franciscus Lucas Brugensis (1548/9–1619), where some twenty notes about the manuscript’s New Testament text are found. RelatedRecovering an Erased GospelH. A. G. HoughtonA Case for the Longer Ending of MarkJames Snapp Jr.Scribal Blunders in Biblical NumbersZachary J. Cole However, the information was not always precise, and more importantly, the data were selective. Lucas Brugensis aimed to illustrate the reliability of the Latin Vulgate, so his references to our manuscript mainly concerned those cases where they support the Latin rendering. His data certainly reflected this. They were chosen based on his particular interest in the resemblance between Codex Vaticanus and the Latin tradition. As a result, even what was accessible to scholars from Vaticanus was a “filtered” dataset. By its nature, this filtered data only confirmed the hypothesis proposed by Erasmus that the manuscript was a poorly Latinized witness. Between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, there were many attempts to produce collations of this manuscript, but the goal was seldom achieved. Fortunately, Andreas Birch (1758–1829) found success in examining the manuscript closely during his stay in Rome. He then published an elegant Greek New Testament edition of the Gospels, Quatuor Evangelia Graece, in 1788. Based on personal examination, it contained the first published collection of textual variants of Codex Vaticanus, alongside a lengthy introduction to the manuscript’s characteristics. Birch’s contribution was significant to the critical study of the New Testament, as it allowed scholars to employ one of the ancient manuscripts known to the text-critical world. Moreover, he was the very first critic who made the public audience aware of the absence of the traditional Markan ending in the manuscript: Codex Vaticanus ended the Gospel of Mark at 16:8 (“for they [the women] were afraid”), followed by a subscription signifying the closure of the book. Until that point, scholars had no hard evidence to support the patristic evidence that some manuscripts ended Mark at 16:8. Until that point, scholars had no hard evidence from any Greek manuscript to support the patristic evidence that some manuscripts ended Mark at 16:8 (e.g., Eusebius, to Marinus 1). This abrupt ending would later be accepted as the critical text, thereby substantially changing our understanding of this Gospel’s narrative. But until Birch’s day, only very few scholars outside the Vatican Library knew about this important fourth-century witness to this ending, let alone considering it being the ending of this Gospel. Related A miniature of Mark from GA 77 (11th c.). Illustration by Peter Gurry. Photo from Österreichische Nationalbibliothek A Case against the Longer Ending of MarkAn argument that Mark 16:9–20 is not original and so not inspired Scripture Peter M. Head From uncertain identity to the ‘Vatican manuscript’ The third and last aspect I want to address is the name “Codex Vaticanus” itself. Nowadays, it is regularly applied to this great Greek Bible manuscript. However, just like the evaluation of its text, this name has changed over time. For instance, when John Mill (1645–1707) was preparing his Greek New Testament edition, his references to our manuscript were not consistent. He variously called it “the Vatican manuscript,” “the Vatican Greek manuscript,” “the ancient manuscript,” or even “a certain manuscript in the Vatican Library.” Since Mill had to depend on secondary sources, he was not entirely sure how many Vatican manuscripts he was referring to and was also uncertain whether only one single ancient manuscript was responsible for all the referenced data. In the era of inaccessibility, mistaken attributions were found here and there among scholarly works, which were hard to verify. The title page to Wettstein’s first edition (1751). Photo credit Later, knowledge about the manuscript gradually grew, and more and more pieces of information became available in the eighteenth century. In his 1751–1752 edition, Johann Jakob Wettstein (1693–1754) created a numbering system for all known Greek New Testament manuscripts. At that point, our manuscript was assigned the letter B, a convention that has lasted until today. Wettstein’s designation also contributed to the formulation of this manuscript’s distinctness, making it the most famous codex of the Greek Bible in Rome. At the turn of the nineteenth century, the Latin term “Codex Vaticanus” (its literal translation would be “a Vatican manuscript”) seems to have become the consistent reference to our manuscript in English scholarly literature. The exclusive use of this term for the manuscript reveals scholarly awareness of its significance and superiority. As noted, this would become the standard name of the manuscript from then on. Alongside the high estimation of its value and the greater use of its text, Codex Vaticanus eventually became the manuscript par excellence among all the New Testament witnesses. Today, it still holds that place for many. Conclusion Such an investigation prevents us from judging previous scholarship too quickly. What can we learn from this unique history? you may ask. Tracing how a particular manuscript was used and perceived over the centuries makes us more aware of the ground and root of our present-day position. It provides us with important historical contexts. Such an investigation also prevents us from judging previous scholarship too quickly without understanding the historical backgrounds and limitations the critics of the past had to face. In this case, it helps us understand why past scholars dismissed Codex Vaticanus as unimportant. In a way, the changing perceptions of Codex Vaticanus showcase the developments in the discipline of New Testament textual criticism. The study of this multifaceted change also makes us aware of the privilege we have in the digital era. It is a great gift to have full and unrestricted access to this crowned witness, from everywhere, at any time.
How the Two Testaments Became One Bible When production of two-testament Bibles began in the fourth century, the notion already had centuries of precedent. Michael DormandyI love asking long-established couples how they first met. From Ruth and Boaz on, such stories often reveal the kindness and sovereignty of God in sweet and sometimes unpredictable ways, especially if the union appeared on paper unlikely, but has gone on to be happy and fruitful. There is one couple, whose union at first seemed extremely unlikely, but which has gone on to be happy and fruitful for two thousand years: the union of the two testaments in the Christian Bible. But how did our two testaments come together? How did those books, which first-century Christians were writing about Jesus, come to be included with the Jewish Scriptures in what we call the Bible? Uniting the Bible’s two testaments It’s an important question, because the unity of our Bibles matters more than many Christians today realize and effects many controversial questions. The unity of Scripture means that one of the most important contexts for interpreting any biblical passage is the rest of the Bible. By approaching the Bible as one united collection of books, the early Christians were saying that the context of a biblical book within the Bible is as or more important than its original historical context in ancient Judaism or Greco-Roman culture. The unity of the Bible is also the basis for connecting themes and symbols across the Bible. This assumes that the Bible has a grand, overarching story, rather than being an assorted collection of anecdotes, moral teachings, and theological ideas. This assumption is basic to Christian preaching, theology, and ethical interpretation of the Bible, but it only makes sense if the two testaments actually do belong together. This was far from obvious in the first century AD. Imagine how you would feel if someone suggested that some new books, from our own time, deserved to be bound into your Bible. That’s what the early Christians started to do to the Jewish Scriptures, from very soon after the death of Jesus. From as far back in the history of the church as we can trace, it seems to have been uncontroversial among Christians that these new books, about Jesus, had the same authority as the Jewish Scriptures, which Jews had been reading, revering, and seeking to obey for centuries. Get new articles and updates in your inbox. Leave this field empty if you're human: Reading the two testaments as one book We see beginnings of the story in the New Testament. First Timothy 5:18 appears to quote Deuteronomy and then something very similar to Matthew’s Gospel, and calls them both “Scripture.” Second Peter 3:16 unambiguously calls Paul’s letters “Scripture.” The Greek word translated “Scripture” (graphē), means anything written. But in religious contexts, it almost always meant authoritative Scriptures. When New Testament authors call other New Testament books “Scripture,” they are saying that these early Christian books have the same status as the Old Testament Scripture. Similarly, the early-second-century Christian writer Polycarp quotes Ephesians and calls it “Scripture” (Polycarp, Philippians 12.) Justin Martyr, also in the second century, records what a worship service looked like in his church (Justin, First Apology 67). It included readings both from the Old Testament Scriptures and the “memoirs of the apostles,” which probably means the Gospels or related texts. In contrast, the second-century heretic Marcion believed that Christians should not read the Old Testament. Marcion is interesting, because by the time he was active, only about a century after the death of Jesus, it was uncontroversial that books like the Gospels and the letters of Paul were at least as authoritative and at least as deserving of Scriptural status as the Old Testament. Related Portraits of the four evangelists from GA 773 (10th c.) Why There Are Just Four Gospels in the BibleDespite tales of conspiracy, there are good historical and theological reasons why the Church recognized four—and only four—Gospels. C. E. Hill Marcion controversially tried to cut the Old Testament (and many parts of the New Testament which quote it or appear to agree with it) out of the Bible—but this means that by his time, the basic shape of a Bible with two testaments must have been well-established. In the mid-first century, Jesus’ followers were controversially writing new books and adding them to the Jewish Scriptures. In the mid-second century, Marcion was taking the old books out of the Christian Scriptures, which was only possible because no-one doubted the scriptural status of the new books. Also in the second century, Irenaeus of Lyon was constructing a theology that assumed the unity of both testaments. His book Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching summarizes the gospel by presenting the story of the whole Bible. His very approach assumes the unity of the Bible. This evidence shows that from very early, Christians were treating the Bible as a single book. Fitting the two testaments in one codex But if the Bible was already being read as a single book, was it being physically produced as a single book? The technical name for a book containing the whole Bible is a “pandect.” Pandects were rare in the ancient world, not least because books this size would have been difficult and expensive to produce. Pandects were rare in the ancient world, not least because books this size would have been difficult and expensive to produce. We know of very few large books from the ancient world. There is Origen’s Hexapla, a copy of the Old Testament containing six different columns in multiple Greek translations. We also know of a manuscript containing all of the ancient Greek epic poem, the Odyssey (which runs to about four hundred pages in modern English editions). When it comes to biblical manuscripts, there are four from prior to 600 AD that were probably originally pandects. They are Codex Sinaiticus, Codex Vaticanus, Codex Alexandrinus, and Codex Ephraemi rescriptus. In the first three, substantial portions of both testaments still survive, so it is very likely they originally contained all of both testaments. In Codex Ephraemi, we have only the New Testament and large parts of the Old Testament wisdom literature. However, the New Testament and the wisdom literature seems such an unusual combination (of which we have no other evidence) that it is likely this manuscript originally contained all the books of both testaments. The view of Ephraemi rescriptus from the bottom. Photo credit These manuscripts all contain the Old Testament in Greek translation (often called the Septuagint), since few early Christians could read Hebrew. They also contain the Old Testament Apocrypha and some contain a few early Christian texts in addition to the New Testament books (but these are placed after Revelation, which may suggest the scribes thought they were in a lesser category). Further hints from our manuscript evidence Of course, many of our early biblical manuscripts are small fragments and so it is impossible to know for certain what else they contained. One of our earliest manuscripts, known to biblical scholars as P52, is a tiny scrap of John’s Gospel. It is impossible to know what was in the original, complete version—all of John, all of the Gospels, all of the New Testament, all of the Christian Bible or some more unusual combination of texts? However, some of these early, small fragments include page numbers and these generally suggest that they contained only a single biblical book. It is likely therefore that manuscripts of the whole Bible were rare and the four we know of are not only important but unusual. RelatedWhy Are Protestant and Catholic Bibles Different?John D. MeadeThe Bible in the Language of JesusPhilip M. FornessThe Day the Bible Became a BestsellerJeffrey Kloha Book technology at the time means that, even with these manuscripts, it’s unlikely all the books of the Bible were physically bound into a single volume. However the presentation, arrangement of words on the page and column layout is the same in each of these manuscripts all through the Bible, so it is very likely that they were intended to be used as single books, rather like a modern book produced in multiple volumes, but always sold together and with such similar font and layout that they are obviously intended to be read as one (such as N. T. Wright’s Paul and the Faithfulness of God or some editions of The Lord of the Rings). The origins of the pandects What led to the production of these pandects? As we have seen, the theological belief in the unity of the testaments existed from the late first century, so it is natural that scribes should start creating manuscripts with both testaments, but it is possible there was a specific reason to produce pandects in the early fourth century. The early Christian writer, Eusebius, records a letter he received from the Roman Emperor Constantine, the first Christian Emperor, requesting “fifty copies of the clearly sacred Scriptures” (Life of Constantine 4.36). Similarly, another early Christian writer, Athanasius, records that he made “copies of the divine Scriptures” for the Roman Emperor Constans (Defense before Constantius 4). Are these ancient requests for pandects? Scholars disagree at this point. It is possible that “fifty copies of the clearly sacred Scriptures” means fifty copies of the Gospels, or even a combination like ten sets each containing five manuscripts, one of the Gospels, one of the Pentateuch, one of the Psalms, one the Prophets and one of the letters. However, there is no indication in the context that this is what Constantine or Constans intended and the natural reading of the definite article in Eusebius’s account is that “the clearly sacred Scriptures” includes everything in the category of clearly sacred Scriptures (just as if one spouse says to another “I’ll collect the children from school” without further clarification, this means all their children and only their children). Fifty pandects would certainly be an exorbitant request, but Roman Emperors were hardly known for their modest tastes or restrained demands. Were any of our four surviving pandects produced in response to these demands? It is impossible to be sure. Were any of our four surviving pandects produced in response to these demands? It is impossible to be sure, but Sinaiticus and Vaticanus both probably come from about the right time and Sinaiticus, in particular, probably comes from about the right place. What is even more important than identifying individual manuscripts with Constantine’s or Constans’s order, is the simple fact that these Emperors were likely commissioning pandects at all. It seems that Constantine believed that a well-ordered and united Bible would help build a well-ordered and united church, which might even help create a well-ordered and united society. Conclusion The production of physically united Bibles began in the fourth century, quite possibly because this was the first time there were Christian emperors who could support the production of such large books. But even more important is the fact that, when these emperors requested such Bibles, the idea made sense—because Christians had been trusting and treasuring a unified Bible for centuries.