Intermediate

Revelation’s Place in the Greek Bible

The history of the Apocalypse in the Greek manuscripts reveals that its place at the end is not uniform.

Hardly any book of the New Testament has puzzled Christian readers more than the book of Revelation. It begins as an epistle to seven churches, then shifts to depicting a series of visions of heavenly judgment cast upon the earth, and ends with the glorious restoration of the created order. The reader finds himself lost in a world of falling stars, biblical plagues, monstrous horses, dragons, war, and heavenly cities with startling physical features.

Is what the book portrays real or figurative? Is it a prophecy that is to come or something that has already happened? For some Christians, its contents are read as their window into the future, while others would prefer never to read the book at all. It might surprise you to know that the modern confusion around the book of Revelation is not entirely new. This text has challenged Christian readers almost from its inception, and this is most evident in its Greek manuscript tradition.

Revelation has challenged Christian readers almost from its inception, and this is most evident in its Greek manuscript tradition.

As a book, Revelation (also called the Apocalypse) sometimes rested uneasily alongside the rest of the New Testament, often as an insertion centuries after the copying of the larger canonical corpus. Many of these manuscripts surface after the twelfth century, some containing Revelation from a fourteenth century addition, suggesting a later desire to “close” the collection of books.

Additionally, Revelation stands out among other Greek New Testament texts by its inclusion in groupings of non-biblical material. Its insertion alongside a variety of hagiographic texts, patristic writings, and homilies, without additional New Testament content, also suggests a liminal status within the Greek-speaking church—particularly after the fourth century. This is reinforced by the absence of Revelation in the Greek liturgical tradition, which means it was not read regularly within the gathering of believers. The canonical impact of the material reality surrounding a still-contentious text like Revelation raises questions for modern Bible readers, and, for this reason, deserves our attention.

The Material Data

The latest survey of the manuscript evidence records a total of 314 manuscripts containing all or part of the text of Revelation.¹ This is comprised of seven papyri, twelve majuscules (written on parchment or animal skin in capital letters), and 295 minuscules (written in a form of “lowercase” letters). Some of these manuscripts contain commentary text, others insert the book into collections of New Testament books. Some manuscripts contain only Revelation, while others include it among collections of nonbiblical material. Because the papyri are fragmentary, the earliest, complete witnesses to the book are the large, complete New Testament manuscripts such as Codex Sinaiticus, Alexandrinus, and Ephraemi Rescriptus, which date to the fourth and fifth centuries.²

Perhaps the most glaring feature of the data is the number of New Testament manuscripts that lack the book of Revelation. Textual scholar Josef Schmid felt that the book’s absence in the commentaries of the great Greek exegetes and its exclusion from the liturgy, as seen in the manuscript tradition, reflected the peculiar fate of Revelation. He observed that “the number of manuscripts that preserve Revelation lags behind that of the rest of the New Testament significantly.”³

Six ancient majuscules between the fourth and fifth centuries contain Revelation alongside the early papyri. Among these are, MS 9351 (GA 0163), a fifth-century fragment containing only twelve lines of text from Rev. 16:17–20, P.Oxy 180 (GA 0169), a fourth-century fragment containing thirty lines of text—with many holes—from Rev. 3:19–4:3, and PSI 1166 (GA 0207), a fourth-century page containing Rev. 9:2–15 on twenty-nine lines in two columns covering both sides. The Greek manuscript tradition is silent from the seventh century until the ninth century. By the ninth century, we have a full copy of Revelation in GA 1424, which is the first, complete New Testament in minuscule handwriting.

From the tenth century, three majuscules and thirteen minuscules remain extant, containing larger portions—and in some cases the whole—of Revelation. By the eleventh century the use of majuscule script fades into memory with the wholesale implementation of the minuscule, and the manuscript count increases to thirty-eight minuscules containing most, or all, of the text. In the twelfth century, thirty-six minuscules are extant—most containing the entire book. The manuscripts increase from thirty-eight minuscules in the thirteenth century to sixty-nine in the fourteenth, sixty in the fifteenth, and forty-three in the sixteenth. The number of Revelation manuscripts increases exponentially after the eleventh century. Even then, the number of manuscripts containing either the New Testament or part of it without Revelation is still greater leading up to the sixteenth century.

Dissecting the Data

In both Codex Sinaiticus and Alexandrinus, Revelation is combined with the remaining twenty-six books of the New Testament. But there are no extant, complete Greek manuscripts from the following four centuries. When Revelation does reappear, joined with New Testament works, it is found in less than one-third of complete, New Testament collections and less than one-fifth of collections containing Acts, the Pauline Epistles, and the Catholic Epistles (known as Apostolos manuscripts)—or other New Testament texts. Of those manuscripts that contain only the Gospels alongside Revelation, several appear to have had the book of Revelation inserted at a later date. Other combinations include Acts plus Revelation; the Gospels and Catholic Epistles plus Revelation; or Hebrews plus Revelation.

When Revelation appears alone it is often accompanied by the commentary of either Oecumenius, Andrew of Caesarea, or Arethas of Caesarea. While it is not unusual to find New Testament texts accompanied by commentary, the frequency with which Revelation is found with commentary raises the question of how it was being read within these contexts. Some scholars think this format shows that the book was read more often as a kind of study book than a devotional or canonical text. However, what is perhaps the most intriguing of all appearances of Revelation within the extant, textual material is its presence alongside other, nonbiblical texts.

The last peculiarity related to the transmission of Revelation is its textual character. Its increase in circulation during the late-medieval era might lead us to think that the book would, like other contemporaneous New Testament manuscripts, conform to the Byzantine textual family that was dominant in this later period. But this is not the case. Later Revelation manuscripts tend to split into two, well-attested text forms, which then further divide into four major stems.

A scene from the Silos Apocalypse (11th c.). Add MS 11695

Consequently, in those manuscripts containing Revelation alongside the combination of Acts and the Catholic Epistles, the book of Revelation does not fit neatly into the same textual family as the rest of the manuscript. The sister manuscripts in the text of Revelation are rarely ever sisters in the Apostolos, and the sister manuscripts in the Apostolos are almost never immediate sisters in Revelation. This indicates that, when copied, these manuscripts copied the text of Revelation from a different manuscript than what was used for the other books.

From Text to Canon

The peculiarities in the Greek manuscript tradition of Revelation’s reception in the Eastern Church naturally raise questions about the book’s canonical status. To that question, we can make several observations.

First, though the transmission of the text of Revelation is more sporadic and far different than others in the New Testament canon, its use is widely attested in the Latin-speaking, Western Church without the inconsistency in the manuscript tradition seen in the Greek Church.⁴

Second, while Revelation faced challenges to its level of authority in the East after the fourth century, prior to this time, it was generally received as canonical by the most vocal in the Church.

A scene from Albrecht Dürer’s “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” (1498). Source
The Fall and Rise of Revelation
Revelation was used widely in the early church, then doubted in the East in the fourth century, but eventually accepted again.
T. C. Schmidt

Third, it must be remembered that the Church Fathers did not only think of Christian texts in strict binary terms of “canonical” and “non-canonical.” They also thought of them in levels of value. The clearest example of this is found in the writings of the fourth-century historian Eusebius, who identified four categories of books circulating in the Church: “received,” “disputed,” “rejected,” or “heretical.” A good example of how these categories were applied can be seen in the case of 2 Peter. Many outlying New Testament books that are considered canonical today, were challenged in ways similar to Revelation, and this can actually be encouraging to modern Christians because it testifies to the sobriety with which these sacred texts were debated.

Revelation’s lack of use in the worship of the Eastern Church is also not so dissimilar to modern times. The current lectionary cycle for the Western Church reveals that only ten passages of Revelation have been read in the church over a period of ten years, and even these avoid any sections portraying the bowl and vial judgments, the heavenly visions, or other passages that seem “strange” to most modern readers (e.g., Rev. 12:1–4 where a woman gives birth in Heaven and a dragon waits to eat the child).

Conclusion

What modern Christians should take away from the material data of Revelation is an awareness that it must be handled with care. We should be cautious about minimizing its unique content and should probably avoid sweeping theological inferences related to its placement as the final book of the Bible. After all, the reason it is so often found at the end of Greek manuscripts is actually because it was added later, and the end of a manuscript is the easiest place to add more text.

In conclusion, we might well approach the text of Revelation with the temperance of one of its earliest commentators who wrote,

Having been asked many times by many people—who out of love have a greater opinion of my abilities—to elucidate the Apocalypse of John the Theologian and to adapt the prophecies to the time after this vision, I was putting off this undertaking, knowing that to explain the things which are secretly and mysteriously seen by the saints which will happen in the future times befits a great mind and one enlightened by the Divine Spirit.
Andrew of Caesarea, Commentary on Revelation

Notes

1
Garrick Allen divides the manuscripts of the Apocalypse into two strands: the canonical and the eclectic. The canonical strand consists of those manuscripts that combine the Apocalypse with other “canonical” books of the New Testament, whereas the eclectic strand is made up of manuscripts which combine the Apocalypse with other, non-canonical material. Allen also acknowledges that these categories cannot account for every manuscript, especially those that are fragmentary, but his classification is immensely helpful for the present and future discussions. See Garrick Allen, Manuscripts of the Book of Revelation: New Philology, Paratexts, Reception (Oxford: Oxford University, 2020), 156–92.
2
While Codex Vaticanus contains the text of Revelation on ff. 1523–1536, it is a fifteenth century supplement and therefore of nominal value for early attestation of the book’s canonical reception.
3
Josef Schmid, Studies in the History of the Greek Text of the Apocalypse: The Ancient Stems, Juan Hernández Jr., Garrick V. Allen, and Darius Müller, eds. and trans. (Atlanta: SBL, 2018), 32.
4
The earliest Latin commentary on the Apocalypse comes from Victorinus of Pettau in AD 260, with commentaries continuing for subsequent centuries into the medieval era.

Four Benefits of Reading Greek Manuscripts

Reading biblical manuscripts, even for beginners, brings history to life and promises untold surprises along the way.

Amy S. Anderson

There is nothing lovelier than a work created by the hand of a true artisan. This is especially true of ancient artifacts since they were, by necessity, hand-made. In many cases, people were not satisfied with a utilitarian object. Whenever possible, they put in extra effort to make it beautiful. This is the first of four benefits I have found in teaching students to read Greek biblical manuscripts.

1. They are beautiful

The oldest copies of scripture, as we will see below, were indeed utilitarian. They were texts meant to be read. But before too long, scripture books began to be decorated and illustrated. To start with, each piece of parchment was painstakingly produced by a lengthy process, resulting in a material that was often so fine that the writing shows through from the other side, yet sturdy enough to last for thousands of years.

The inks were made from various natural sources, producing brilliant colors. The pens were hand-formed. In addition, writing was not a skill that everyone possessed. We don’t always realize that the ability for normal people to read and write is a relatively modern phenomenon. To form even awkward letters would have been quite an achievement for an ancient person. To write beautifully was a treasured skill.

In fact, widespread illiteracy is one reason that many ancient copies of the Bible are illuminated, some in simple ways with colored initial letters, others with entire pages portraying the Gospel writer or a scene from the text. These are not just pretty touches, but they witness to a desire to honor God and provide tools for teaching the congregation the stories of the Old Testament or the life of Jesus.

Just look at this gorgeous first page of the Gospel of Matthew.

The opening of Matthew in GA 2374, a 13th/14th c. copy of the entire NT except Revelation. Image (cc) Walters Art Museum via CSNTM.

(1) The colorful and ornate box shape at the top is called a “headpiece,” often found at the beginning of biblical books. What looks like gold – is gold! In the center of the headpiece is the title, written in gold paint on top of red. The first word in the text of Matthew is βίβλος (biblos, or “book”). (2) In the left margin, you can see that the first letter, which corresponds to the English letter “B,” is enlarged and richly decorated. This is called an “initial letter.”

Sometimes the same scribe who wrote out the text also did the artwork, but most of the time two different skilled people were at work, one copying the text and one decorating it. (3) Further down in the left margin, you can see an enlarged red letter that looks like an English “C.” This is actually the letter sigma, the first letter of the name Solomon. When beginning a new section of the text, scribes often indicated the first full line with such an initial letter, placed in the margin, enlarged, and “rubricated,” or written in red.

(4) The rubricated text directly under the headpiece is a repeat of the title of the Gospel with decorative dots. This was probably added later since it is crowded into that space. (5) Did you also see the tiny, rubricated alpha (α) with a line above it in the right margin? This is the Greek number one, marking the first section of Matthew. Even though the chapters and verses with which we are familiar were inserted later, early Christians developed their own numbering system that helped readers find specific passages.

Aside from their visual beauty, ancient manuscripts like this also remind us of the real people who lived long ago and read these Bibles.

2. They connect us to the ancient world

We sometimes forget that the people who wrote, copied, and translated our scriptures were living, breathing human beings. The ancient manuscripts often give us glimpses of the lives of these people. What follows are two close-ups of one of the most famous ancient manuscripts. It is called Codex Sinaiticus because it was preserved in a monastery that is located on Mt Sinai. It is dated to the 4th century and is one of the two earliest surviving manuscripts to have originally contained the entire Bible.

A fingerprint in Codex Sinaiticus (4th c.) on Q.68 f.4v at Sirach 8:5. Source

If you look closely at just the right spot on just the right page in Codex Sinaiticus, you can see a finger print! You can also see that the whorls of the print are over top of the letters. This may have been someone who handled the parchment soon after it was written, perhaps even the scribe him/herself.

A wax dripping in Sinaiticus on Q.83 f.4v at 1 Cor. 14:7. Source

At another place in Sinaiticus you can see something that occurs often in the ancient manuscripts. Remember, there was no electrical lighting in churches and other buildings, so that one of the few ways to have enough light to read a manuscript indoors was to use candlelight. That, of course, would be accompanied by the likelihood of drips occurring, as you can see here. This drip occurs in 1 Corinthians 14:7, where Paul is discussing how different musical instruments have distinct sounds as part of his argument for intelligibility in the use of manifestation gifts in the gathering of believers.

A final instance of the humanity of the people who made copies of scripture so long ago comes from Codex Vaticanus, the other of the two oldest copies of the entire Bible, also from the fourth century and in this case housed in the Vatican library. The last part of the New Testament has been lost, but Vaticanus is treasured for the high quality of the text it preserves.

You might be able to see from the photo that a later scribe has traced over the original letters, probably because they had become faded. Also interesting is the comment in the margin. It is evidence of a disagreement between two different correctors.

The start of Hebrews in Codex Vaticanus (4th c.) showing a correction in the margin. Alamy

Six lines down at the left side of the column, corresponding to Hebrews 1:3, is the word φανερῶν (phanerōn, “revealing”). This reading would translate as saying that Jesus reveals all things by the power of His word. But most manuscripts read φέρων (pherōn, “upholding/sustaining”) here. The two words are quite similar, and a close look would show (1) that the color of the second and third letters (αν) is lighter than the rest of the word. Apparently, a corrector has tried to remove them in order to change phanerōn to pherōn. But a second corrector came along and added those two letters back in, returning the reading to what the manuscript first read. (2) This second corrector was irritated with the change made by the first, and comments in the margin: “Fool and knave, leave the old reading, don’t change it!”¹

3. They include the earliest copies of our sacred scriptures

In fact, not only do the ancient manuscripts take us back to the early days of Christianity, they are also among the oldest surviving physical artifacts of the faith. They are at least as early as the catacombs, the mosaics, foundations of church buildings, or anything else that an archaeological dig might discover. And the manuscripts contain many clues to early Christianity—even beyond the texts that became the canons of the Old and New Testaments. In the margins are not only comments like the one above, but organizational symbols, commentary, textual variants, and historical notations. Practices of scribes and correctors reveal much about the developing theological discussions.

Rahlfs 962 (3rd c.) is a copy of Genesis in Greek. This fragment is from Gen 31:5–9. Image (cc) Chester Beatty Library, photo from CSNTM.

What you are looking at here are the surviving fragments of a page of Genesis. They include Genesis 31:5–9, part of the story of Jacob fleeing from Laban. The fact that this copy of Genesis is written in Greek means that this artifact is from the Septuagint, which is the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible.

(1) In the second line from the top, the word θέος (God) is abbreviated as θς. This is a strong hint that this manuscript was produced and used by a Christian community. There are more than a dozen of these nomina sacra, or “holy names,” that early Christians commonly abbreviated, words such as “God,” “Jesus,” “lord,” or “father.” You can get an idea of what these abbreviations look like by imitating them in English. For example, God could be written as “Gd,” Jesus as “Js,” heaven as “hven.” While scholars still debate possible reasons why Christians followed this practice, any manuscript that contains the nomina sacra can be identified as almost certainly coming from a Christian church or community.

(2) Another feature to notice are the fibers at the top and bottom, as well as the square-shaped breaks in the material. Papyrus as a writing material came from the pith of the stems of papyrus plants, grown in Egypt. The pith was cut in thin layers and then laid side by side—one layer horizontal and one layer vertical. These two layers were pressed together to form a sturdy writing material. The oldest copies of the Septuagint and the New Testament are on papyrus.

Papyrus was constructed by laying slices of the papyrus plant stem at 90 degree angles. Wikipedia

This copy of Genesis is dated to the late third century, making it older than most surviving copies of the New Testament, and much older than many surviving copies of the Old Testament in the original Hebrew. The handwriting is not as “fancy” as the other later hands you see in this article. It is called a “documentary hand,” as opposed to the more finely crafted “literary hand” used to copy literary works (such as Homer or Polybius), pointing to the pragmatism of early Christians.

Indeed, the earliest copies of the New Testament, as well as the Greek copies of the Old Testament, would have been produced not so much as articles of beauty, but in order to make the content available as quickly and broadly as possible. This codex (book) would have been used by early Christians as they studied their scripture to understand, debate, and articulate how Jesus was both the Jewish Messiah and God himself.

4. They help us appreciate why there are differences in the ancient copies

Because the New Testament was copied by hand for about 1400 years, it should not be surprising that the manuscripts differ in small ways on nearly every page, and that there are some bigger differences between them as well. This is why we need trained textual critics who study the manuscripts and offer explanations as to what occurred in the process of transmitting the text over hundreds of years. This might make it sound as if we cannot be certain of the oldest form of the text. But in actuality, you yourself can find out what the most meaningful variations are, simply by checking the footnotes of your own English Bible.

Illustration by Peter Gurry. Image from 123rf.com
Two Reasons There Are Variants in Our Copies of the Bible
For historical and theological reasons, we shouldn’t be surprised that the Bible’s manuscripts have differences.
Peter J. Gurry

Most modern Bibles have footnotes that alert you to significant variation that occurs between manuscripts, differences that could impact interpretation. Look for the footnotes that begin with something like “Some ancient witnesses read…” or “The oldest manuscripts read…” These are text-critical notes, supplied to you by the translators of your Bible. Don’t confuse text-critical notes with translation notes, which are about translation decisions. Translation notes would begin something like “Or…” In other words, translation notes are only offering another legitimate translation of the same Greek or Hebrew in a place where ancient manuscripts have the same word.

If you go through your Bible and look at every single text-critical note, you will see that, though they are interesting and have importance for reading that passage, they are certainly not the sort of variation that would turn our Christian faith on its head.

One of the places in the New Testament where scholars debate a reading is in 1 Corinthians 2:1. You can see in the footnote of your own Bible that scholars are not sure whether Paul wrote “testimony” or “mystery.” It could be a fun exercise to look through various modern translations and see which ones chose which word. There are trustworthy ancient manuscripts with each reading, and Paul uses both words in the immediate context. Both words make sense in the sentence, and the decision of which word to include will change the meaning somewhat.

The correction of “mystery” to “testimony” at 1 Cor. 2:1 in Sinaiticus. Source

Sinaiticus, the 4th century codex mentioned above, carries within it a witness to the fact that early Christians also debated which word Paul would have written in 1 Corinthians 2:1. When you look at this spot in the manuscript, you’ll see a word that begins in the middle of the line and finishes on the next line: ΜΥΣΤΗΡΙΟΝ. That’s mystērion, or “mystery.” The word for “testimony” would be ΜΑΡΤΥΡΙΟΝ, or martyrion. Notice how similar the two words are. You can basically trade out three letters to change one into the other. And that’s exactly what a later corrector has done in Sinaiticus. Look at the small letters written above ΜΥΣΤΗΡΙΟΝ. They are meant by the corrector to be substituted in, changing the reading from mystērion (mystery) to martyrion (testimony).

The most extensive variation between manuscripts involve the ending of Mark and the story of the woman caught in adultery, or the pericope adulterae (John 7:53–8:11). Neither of these longer texts is in the oldest manuscripts, as the footnotes in your Bible will tell you, but they entered the tradition pretty early on, and then scribes dealt with them in various ways. Here is an example of how one group of manuscripts presents the pericope adulterae.

GA 1 (12th c.), showing the ending of John’s Gospel (recto) and the *pericope adulterae* (verso). Source

This is Codex 1, which contains most of the New Testament and was produced in the 12th century. It belongs to a group of closely related manuscripts called Family 1, and one of the characteristics of this family is that its manuscripts have the pericope adulterae at the end of John. What you see above are the front (recto) and back (verso) sides of one folio. Notice how the damages to the parchment are mirror images of each other. You can also see that the two sides are a slightly different color and that the recto has something like (1) light freckles in the upper right corner. That is the hair side of the parchment and the “freckles” are hair follicles. The slightly paler verso is called the skin side.

What you see on the recto is (2) the end of the Gospel of John. Except for the initial letters, (3) the rubricated writing on this page was added later and mostly has to do with marking out the daily church readings. In fact, you can see (4) the end of one reading in the middle of the page where it looks like a “TE” with a line above it. That’s the abbreviation for τέλος (telos), which means “ending.” It occurs in the middle of our v. 19. (5) A new reading begins with the next red mark, the abbreviation of ἀρχή (archē), which means “beginning.” This is placed right before our v. 24.

Frequently, scribes would end a book with this sort of tapering of the lines of text. (6) The last letter is an alpha from the word βίβλια (biblia), which is the plural of “books.” (You’ll remember that the author says that if everything that Jesus did were written down, the whole world could not contain the books that would be written.) After the biblical text ends is (7) a decorative cross with the nomina sacra for “Jesus” and “Christ.”

So that’s the end of John. But when the reader turns the folio to the verso, there is another page of text! And it doesn’t begin with biblical text. (8) The rubricated paragraph, this time written by the original scribe, is a commentary on the pericope adulterae that must go back for hundreds of years since other, older Family 1 manuscripts also contain it. This paragraph informs the reader that the pericope adulterae is not found in most copies, providing evidence from a number of church fathers. Then comes (9) the text of the pericope adulterae in full, also ending in the tapered format with a small decoration.

Knowledge of the ancient manuscripts brings the history of Judaism and Christianity to life.

Just these few explorations of several pages out of our ancient copies of scripture demonstrate how much there is to be gained from a study of the early manuscripts, and how valuable such a study would be for a student of the Bible or of ancient Greek. Knowledge of the ancient manuscripts brings the history of Judaism and Christianity to life, not only in the meaning of the text itself, but in the tangible artifacts that carry the text and that have survived to share beauty, information, and inspiration with readers of the 21st century.

Notes

1
Translation from Bruce M. Metzger and Bart D. Ehrman, The Text of the New Testament: Its Transmission, Corruption, and Restoration, 4th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 260.

A Case against the Longer Ending of Mark

An argument that Mark 16:9–20 is not original and so not inspired Scripture

Peter M. Head

This is the second article on Mark’s ending. It responds to an argument for the authenticity of Mark 16:9–20.

I am grateful for the opportunity to respond to James Snapp’s article. He argued that we should regard Mark 16:9–20 as the ending of Mark’s Gospel. I will be arguing instead that we should regard Mark 16:8 as the ending of Mark’s Gospel.

For clarity I simply note that I will use the term Longer Ending for Mark 16:9–20, and the term Shorter Ending for the sentences which were never given verse numbers, but which follow on from “for they were afraid” (v. 8) in some manuscripts with the words: “But they reported briefly to Peter and those with him all that they had been told. And after this Jesus himself sent out by means of them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation.”¹ I will argue that neither the Shorter Ending nor the Longer Ending were the initial ending of Mark’s Gospel, but that we should regard Mark 16:8 as the original ending of Mark’s Gospel.

What Counts as Evidence

Before we get into the evidence, we should note that one of the issues in this debate concerns what actually counts as evidence, especially what counts as evidence against the Longer Ending. It is reasonably clear what counts as evidence for the Longer Ending, or at least evidence that the Longer Ending was known and used as the ending of Mark’s Gospel—manuscripts (in Greek and other languages) in which Mark’s Gospel ends with 16:20 are the clearest evidence, as well as Church Fathers who clearly quote from portions of the Longer Ending.

But it is not as clear what will count as evidence against the Longer Ending. Church Fathers who don’t quote from any passage in the Longer Ending (like Origen or Clement of Alexandria, just for the sake of argument), are not providing us with evidence that their copy (or copies) of Mark ended at 16:8. It is not even an argument from silence, it is an argument from absence. But this doesn’t really seem like solid evidence at all. Of course, it would be relevant if a Church Father preached through Mark and his sermons finished with 16:8; but of course, sermon series and commentaries on Mark are pretty much completely absent from the patristic period.

So, what counts as evidence against the Longer Ending then? Only manuscripts (in Greek or other languages) which end Mark’s Gospel at Mark 16:8, manuscripts which preserve evidence for earlier manuscripts which lacked the Longer Ending, and Church Fathers explicitly discussing the ending of Mark. At least that narrows our discussion somewhat.

Points of Agreement

James Snapp’s argument for the Longer Ending reflects his long-standing commitment to the investigation of this problem, as well as his learned impatience with inaccurate generalizations about the status of the manuscript and patristic evidence in some commentaries and English translations.

But it also reflects a particular approach to which bits of evidence are actually decisive in this discussion. At various points I will obviously disagree with his judgment on that point—otherwise the conveners would not have asked me to write on this topic! But before I disagree, I want to begin with a whole series of his points with which I am in substantial agreement.

Irenaeus provides indisputable evidence for the Longer Ending in the 2nd century. Source

The vast majority of extant Greek manuscripts of Mark (copied between the fifth and the fifteenth centuries) contain the Longer Ending of Mark. I agree that over 99 percent of all manuscripts of Mark in this period contain the Longer Ending though I also think that Snapp doesn’t always acknowledge the slim strand of evidence showing that this ending was also disputed.²
The two earliest complete manuscripts of Mark in Greek (copied in the fourth century) do not contain the Longer Ending of Mark and clearly end their text at Mark 16:8. For me this is important evidence, so we will have to discuss this further.
Data drawn from many ecclesiastical writers from the third, fourth, and fifth centuries offer evidence that they were familiar with the Longer Ending. Irenaeus in particular is an important late second-century witness to the Longer Ending as the ending of Mark’s Gospel.³ I will, however, offer some mild disagreements from Snapp’s view of the second-century evidence.
The contents, vocabulary, and “awkward fit” of the Longer Ending in relation to Mark 16:1–8 suggests that this was not the authorial ending to Mark’s Gospel. This is a very important admission from Snapp, which I will take further below.
The Shorter Ending (found with the Longer Ending in an interesting range of witnesses) only makes sense as an addition to a text of Mark that ended at 16:8.
I also agree, for what it is worth, that dots, asterisks, and obeli placed alongside the Longer Ending in some manuscripts are not obviously self-interpreting and scholars should be more careful in their treatments of such things. (Against Snapp the same must be said for manuscript decorations and blank spaces—which Snapp treats as if they are significant when it helps his overall argument.)

So, on these six points I am in substantial agreement.

Of course, in part, this agreement highlights the problem of the Longer Ending: it was absent from the earliest manuscripts, it doesn’t fit when it does appear in the later manuscripts, and it has unusual stylistic features; but it was widely adopted as the ending of Mark, is quoted regularly in ecclesiastical writers, and became the almost universal ending of Mark in later manuscripts. This is the textual problem—a combination of external and internal evidence—that scholars are trying to investigate, explore, and ultimately explain and resolve.

Differences of Judgment

Within a discussion taking in many different manuscripts, versions, church fathers, and such there is ample room for differences of judgment. We may distinguish between disagreements which are fundamental and those which are more marginal.

For example, I am not as confident about finding evidence for the Longer Ending of Mark, as part of Mark, within the second-century witnesses such as Justin, Tatian’s Diatessaron, and the Epistula Apostolorum, and perhaps a little more confident that the Gospel of Peter should be considered as a witness to the ending of Mark at 16:8.⁴ These are not, however, crucial differences, just areas where scholars have often come to different judgments on questions where the evidence is inconclusive. Take, as one example of these, the question as to whether Justin Martyr, an important mid-second-century Christian leader in Rome, knows the Longer Ending of Mark.

It is difficult to agree on a method for determining when and where second-century Christian writers show knowledge of particular New Testament texts. We can perhaps agree on a statement of the facts of the matter: Justin Martyr, on one occasion in his First Apology 45 (as cited by Snapp) used three words—relatively quite common terminology, about the apostolic mission—that are also found in Mark 16:20, not in the order they are found in Mark, in a vaguely similar context, but without other strong connections with the context in Mark.

So I disagree with Snapp’s confidence in seeing this as proof that Justin knew the Longer Ending of Mark. At best I would rate this as “possible.” But it is also possible that the three-word quasi-agreement is coincidental (I suppose a common source could not be excluded). Thus, I remain more at home with Westcott and Hort on this: “the evidence is slight.”

It would be similarly possible to come to more cautious conclusions about Tatian’s Diatessaron—where the task of reconstructing Tatian’s work is obviously complex and the problem can be posed simply by noting that Snapp’s evidence for this second-century harmony actually comes from a sixth-century Latin manuscript and a fourth-century Syriac commentary.⁵ But differences in these matters (or in relation to the Epistula Apostolorum) are not particularly decisive; they are disagreements in judgment.

More Substantial Disagreements

There are four areas, however, requiring more significant discussion.

1. Internal Evidence

In relation to the style and content of the Longer Ending, I agree with Snapp that the following features of the Longer Ending provide “compelling evidence” that this is not Mark’s originally intended ending. I shall note Snapp’s evidence and then explain:

The reintroduction of Mary Magdalene. Mary Magdalene has already appeared three times in the latter sections of Mark: at the cross (15:40), at the tomb seeing where Jesus’ body was placed (15:47), and coming to the now empty tomb on Sunday morning (16:1). Because of this, it is incongruous to introduce her in 16:9 as “the one from whom seven demons had been expelled” (a phrase that comes from Luke’s introduction of her in Luke 8:2)
The restating of the day and time. Mark 16:2 states in emphatic manner that the women came to the tomb “very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen,” while 16:9 states the time of Jesus’ resurrection as “early on the first day of the week” in a way that is both unnecessarily repetitive and also in different wording to what was used in 16:2.
The lack of any meeting in Galilee predicted in Mark 14:28 and 16:7. This is a major problem with the Longer Ending of Mark—it doesn’t deliver what both Jesus and the angel promised would take place!

But I think the internal issues go further than this in the case of both style and content. In relation to style, given that twelve verses are a small sample, two features suggest a different author: the frequent use of the pronoun “that” or “those” (ἐκεῖνος) referring to people (v. 10: ἐκείνη; v. 11: κἀκεῖνοι; v. 13: κἀκεῖνοι, ἐκείνοις; v. 20: ἐκεῖνοι), and the general shift in connectives away from a simple “and” kai (καί) to the post-positive “but” de (δέ; vv. 9, 12, 14, 17, 20 [in a μέν … δέ construction])—Mark generally uses de to signal a change of subject, but in 16:9–20 it becomes the default connective.

In relation to content there is a significant issue that the Longer Ending draws upon parallel material in the other Gospels.

In relation to content there is a significant issue that the Longer Ending draws upon parallel material in the other Gospels.⁶ The individual appearance to Mary Magdalene (Mark 16:9–11) parallels John 20:14–18; the appearance to two people walking in the country (Mark 16:12–13) parallels the two disciples on the road to Emmaus in Luke 24:13–35; the appearance to the eleven while reclining (Mark 16:14) parallels Luke 24:36–43; the commissioning (Mark 16:15) parallels Matthew 28:19–20; and the mention of the ascension (Mark 16:19) parallels Luke 24:50–51. This synthesizing feature of the content of the Longer Ending has long been recognized as reflecting a different relationship to the other Gospels than is reflected within Mark’s Gospel.⁷

2. Church Fathers

I’m not persuaded that Snapp does justice to all the patristic evidence in favor of ending the Gospel at Mark 16:8, including the important evidence of Eusebius (and Jerome). It seems clear to me that in his letter to Marinus, in discussing the problem of harmonizing Matthew 28:1 and Mark 16:9, Eusebius not only quotes from the perspective of the person who would regard the Longer Ending as spurious—where he reports that “the accurate copies” end at 16:8—but that he himself also affirms that this was the ending of Mark “in nearly all the copies” (to Marinus 1).⁸ Eusebius does also attempt a harmonization, for the sake of argument, assuming that the Longer Ending was part of the text of Mark, but Eusebius is offering a complex double sort of approach here.⁹ What is also clear is that, in the construction of his influential Canon Tables, Eusebius did not include the Longer Ending of Mark.¹⁰

A page of Eusebius’s canon tables in Walters Manuscript W.538, fol. 8v (12th c.). Public domain

To this we could add the testimonies of Hesychius of Jerusalem (5th c.), who notes that Mark’s Gospel ends after the appearance of the angel to the women, and Severus of Antioch (465–538), who echoes Eusebius’s comment that “in the more accurate copies the Gospel according to Mark ends at the [passage] ‘for they were afraid.’”¹¹ The comments of Eusebius (who travelled widely but was especially associated with Caesarea) and Jerome (mostly associated with Rome), show that awareness of the manuscript support for ending the Gospel at Mark 16:8 was present in intellectual and major ecclesiastical centers of the fourth and fifth centuries.

3. External Evidence

The straightforward evidence of the two great fourth-century codices, Sinaiticus and Vaticanus, is unduly minimized by Snapp. These are our earliest complete Greek manuscripts of Mark, and they both end the Gospel quite clearly at Mark 16:8. In Codex Sinaiticus the text ends at Mark 16:8 with a decoration and an end-title (“Gospel according to Mark”). In Codex Vaticanus the text ends at 16:8 with a decoration and an end-title (“according to Mark”), followed by an empty column.

This essentially quite straightforward evidence is subjected to some obfuscation by Snapp on the basis of his interpretation of the decorations of Codex Sinaiticus and the unusual empty column in Vaticanus. It is well known that the end of Mark in Sinaiticus (from Mark 14:54) and the beginning of Luke (up to Luke 1:56) are written on a replacement sheet by scribe D. (This is one of three such replacement sheets within the New Testament.) Investigations of the possible problem corrected by Scribe D (who appears to be the senior scribe, regularly correcting the work of Scribe A, and copying very carefully) have pointed to the likelihood of problems in the text of Luke. As Dirk Jongkind states, supporting prior scholarship: “the so-called longer ending of Mark could never have fit on this sheet.”¹²

In addition, it is not only the earliest Greek manuscripts which end at Mark 16:8. There is good evidence that the earliest form of the Gospel of Mark, as translated into Latin, Syriac, Sahidic Coptic, Christian Palestinian Aramaic, Armenian, and Georgian, all consisted of the text of Mark ending at 16:8. This is further very significant confirmation of the testimony of Eusebius as to the state of the text of Mark in the manuscripts of the fourth century. Here is a brief listing of the relevant evidence.¹³

The ending of Mark in Codex Bobiensis, the earliest Latin manuscript of Mark. Source

The oldest Old Latin manuscript (VL 1 = Codex Bobiensis, from the fourth or fifth century) concludes at Mark 16:8 with a version of the Shorter Ending and lacks 16:9–20
The oldest Syriac manuscript (the Sinaitic Syriac, from the fourth century) ends at 16:8
The oldest Sahidic manuscript (sa 1 = P. Palau-Ribes Inv. Nr. 182, from the fifth century) ends at 16:8
The earliest evidence we have for the Christian Palestinian Aramaic version of Mark (Codex Sinaiticus Rescriptus in St Petersburg, Syr. No. 16) ends at 16:8
The oldest Armenian manuscripts (going back to the ninth century) end at 16:8
The oldest Georgian manuscripts (translated from the Armenian) end at 16:8

In each of these language groups, later witnesses include the Longer Ending, but that does not detract from the force of this observation. The general direction of travel in the manuscript evidence as we have it for Greek, Sahidic, Latin, Syriac, Christian Palestinian Aramaic, Armenian, and Georgian, moves from an original, shorter Mark towards incorporating a version of Mark with the Longer Ending.

In other words, the Greek manuscript evidence, and the evidence within these six linguistic areas, works in the opposite direction to that proposed by James Snapp (and others). In short, it is not evidence that an original long form of Mark was subsequently edited down, but is in fact evidence for the opposite: the earliest form of Mark known in these areas ended at Mark 16:8, and this was subsequently supplemented with one or more of the available additional endings.

4. Method

Finally, in terms of method, it is a general principle within New Testament textual criticism to work on the principle that the reading which explains the other readings is to be preferred. Snapp attempts to explain the ending at Mark 16:8 as an editorial emendation by “overly meticulous scribes,” that is, as a deletion of material within their exemplars.

But evidence for this sort of speculative conjecture is lacking. A stronger argument is that an ending at Mark 16:8 explains the origin of the other readings. It is an unusual and abrupt ending, which gave rise to a natural desire for a clearer ending, and this is evident in both the Shorter and the Longer endings to Mark. This is the tendency of the textual tradition as already noted.

The Significance of the Longer Ending

This argument is obviously my own, but broadly speaking this is the sort of argument which stands behind the views of many textual critics over the past two centuries (e.g., Lachmann, Tischendorf, Tregelles, Westcott & Hort, Nestle, Aland, Metzger, Parker), it explains the decision to print a primary text ending at Mark 16:8 in the contemporary critical editions of the Greek New Testament (N1–NA28, UBS1–5, THGNT, SBL, ECM), and it is the viewpoint reflected in practically all the recent scholarly commentaries on Mark (e.g., Yarbro Collins, Hooker, France, Gundry, Pesch, Gnilka). If this judgment is correct, one final but important question remains: what should we do with the Longer Ending?

One final but important question remains: what should we do with the Longer Ending?

To be honest, I hesitate at precisely this point (and I appreciate that I am channeling Eusebius here). Some days I want to argue, with the full courage of my textual convictions, for simply printing the text of Mark up to Mark 16:8 and then closing (with Sinaiticus and Vaticanus). Positively, this would be a clear expression of the conclusions drawn from internal and external evidence. It would expose readers to the surprising nature of the original Markan ending. And the Longer Ending could take its rightful place, not among the words of the inspired authors of Scripture, but among the writings of the Apostolic Fathers, Christian writings from the generations after the apostolic period.

But on other days, I think of the 99 percent of Greek manuscripts which contain the Longer Ending, I consider the breadth and depth of Christian reception of the Longer Ending in the Church Fathers from the time of Irenaeus, and its ubiquitous presence in primary historical vernacular translations of the New Testament. On these days I think of it as inhabiting a quasi-canonical space, somewhat similar to the place of the Apocrypha in the Anglican tradition: not inspired Scripture, not for deciding on doctrine, but interesting, useful, and even edifying to read and ponder.

Notes

1
The Editio Critica Maior (ECM) identifies the Shorter Ending as Mark 16:8/38–104. In this system of reference every word in the text is assigned an even number, and each space between words is assigned an odd number. It is a little cumbersome, but it is made for precision! The ECM for Mark has recently been published and I shall refer to it in some of the following notes. Novum Testamentum Graecum Editio Critica Maior. I.2 Das Markusevangelium (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2021; in three parts).
2
We also note that the most recent research on 304 affirms that it does provide solid evidence for a later manuscript ending Mark at 16:8: Mina Monier, “GA 304, Theophylact’s Commentary and the Ending of Mark,” Filología Neotestamentaria 52 (2019), 94–106.
3
This is not disputed, cf. J. A. Kelhoffer, Miracle and Mission: The Authentication of Missionaries and Their Message in the Longer Ending of Mark (WUNT 2.112; Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 2000), 169–170.
4
On these, see now N. Kiel, “Die frühen Kirchenväter als Zeugen des kurzen and langen Markusschlusses” in Editio Critica Maior. Das Markusevangelium. Teil 3. Studien, 105–132. Kelhoffer is more positive about both Justin and Tatian in Miracle and Mission, 170–175.
5
Within this Syriac commentary, the only evidence for the Longer Ending of Mark comes in the form of Jesus’ commission: “Go forth into the whole world, and baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Spirit.” This admittedly, does seem like a conflation of Mark 16:15 and Matt 28:19. But that is the only direct evidence. Quoted from C. McCarthy, Saint Ephrem’s Commentary on Tatian’s Diatessaron: An English Translation of Chester Beatty Syriac MS 709 with Introduction and Notes (JSSS 2; Oxford: OUP, 1993), 289.
6
See Kelhoffer, Miracle and Mission, 123–150, for an overview see the charts on pp. 138–139. He concludes: “The numerous allusions to Matthew, Luke and John—especially to the ends of these writings—demonstrate that the author of the LE [Longer Ending] wrote with knowledge of copies of these writings” (p. 150). Cf. also C.B. Amphoux, “La finale longue de Marc: un epilogue des quatre évangiles” in C. Focant (ed.), The Synoptic Gospels, Source Criticism and the New Literary Criticism (BETL 110; Leuven: Peeters & LUP, 1993), 548–55.
7
For a survey of the history of scholarship see S. L. Cox, A History and Critique of Scholarship Concerning the Markan Endings (Lewiston: Mellen, 1993); Kelhoffer, Miracle and Mission, 5–46.
8
See R. Pearse (ed), Eusebius of Caesarea, Gospel Problems and Solutions Quastiones ad Stephanum et Marinum (CPG 3470) (Ipswich: Chieftain, 2010), 96, 97. See also J.A. Kelhoffer, “The Witness of Eusebius’ ad Marinum and Other Christian Writings to Text-Critical Debates concerning the Original Conclusion to Mark’s Gospel,” ZNW 92 (2001), 78–112. Jerome’s later comment to the effect that the Long Ending “appears scarcely in [copies of] the Gospel, while almost all books in Greek do not have this pericope at the end, especially since it seems to narrate things different and contrary to certain evangelists” (Ep. CXX.3, ad Hedybiam; AD 406–407) does bear some relationship with Eusebius’ discussion (translation from Kelhoffer, “Witness,” 99).
9
C. J. J. Coombs, A Dual Reception: Eusebius and the Gospel of Mark (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016).
10
See M. R. Crawford, The Eusebian Canon Tables: Ordering Textual Knowledge in Late Antiquity (OECS; Oxford: OUP, 2019), 182.
11
Both are cited in the ECM apparatus. Texts and discussion in Kelhoffer, “Witness,” 101–104 (citation from p. 103).
12
D. Jongkind, Scribal Habits in Codex Sinaiticus (T&S III.5; Piscataway: Gorgias Press, 2007), 39–57 for general discussion, citation from p. 45; cf. H. J. M. Milne and T. C. Skeat, Scribes and Correctors of the Codex Sinaiticus (London: British Museum, 1938), 9–11. For more on Scribe D, see P. M. Head, “Some Observations on Various Features of Scribe D in the New Testament of Codex Sinaiticus” in Codex Sinaiticus: New Perspectives on the Ancient Biblical Manuscript (eds. S. McKendrick, D. C. Parker, A. Myshrall, and C. O’Hogan; London: British Library, 2015), 127–137.
13
Latin: Turin, Bibl. Nat. Univ. 1163. C. Cipolla (ed), Il codice evangelico k della Biblioteca Universitaria Nazionale di Torino (Turin: Molfese, 1913). See especially C. Clivaz, “Mk 16 im Codex Bobbiensis. Neue Materialien zur conclusion brevior des Markusevangeliusms,” ZNT 47 (2021), 59–85 (with reference to earlier scholarship).
Syriac: George A. Kiraz (ed), Comparative Edition of the Syriac Gospels Aligning the Sinaiticus, Curetonianus, Peshitta and Harklean Version (NTTS 41.1–4; Brill: Leiden, 1996), vol. 2, 251–52. Taylor notes, “The general consensus is that this manuscript represents a generally earlier form of the Old Syriac Gospel text than the Curetonian manuscript,” D. G. K. Taylor, “New Developments in the Textual Study of the Old Syriac Gospels” in At One Remove: The Text of the New Testament in Early Translations and Quotations (eds H. A. G. Houghton and P. Montoro; Piscataway: Gorgias, 2020), 1–42, at pp. 11–12.
Sahidic: Edition: H. Quecke, Das Markusevangelium saïdisch: Text der Handschrift PPalau Rib. Inv.-Nr. 182 mit den Varianten der Handschrift M 569 (PCS&T 4; Barcelona: Papyrologica Castroctaviana, 1972). This is taken to be the primary witness to the earliest form of the Sahidic translation of Mark by A. Boud’Hors and S. Torallas Tovar, “Towards a Textual History of the Gospel of Mark in Sahidic Coptic. Prolegomena to a New Critical Edition” in Editio Critica Maior, Das Markusevangelium. Teil 3. Studien, 203–220. ECM notes sa 393var—with text from Mark 1:1–2 and 16:8—as another witness to the Sahidic version ending at Mark 16:8, see S. G. Richter and K. D. Schröder, “Zur koptischen Markus-Überlieferung” in Editio Critica Maior, Das Markusevangelium. Teil 3. Studien, 185–202 (at p. 200). For this amulet, containing readings from Matt 1:1 and 28:20; Mark 1:1–2 and 16.8; Luke 1:1 and 24:53; John 1:1 and 21:25 (Freiburg/Schweiz Bible and Orient Museum ÄT 2006.8), see G. Emmenegger, “Ein koptisches Amulett als Beleg für den kurzen Markusschluss,” ZNW 103 (2012), 142–145. For an earlier stage of scholarship see P. E. Kahle, “The End of Mark’s Gospel: The Witness of the Coptic Versions,” JTS 2 (1951), 49–57.
Christian Palestinian Aramaic: C. Müller Kessler & M. Sokoloff, The Christian Palestinian Aramaic New Testament Version from the Early Period: Gospels (CCPA IIA; Groningen: Styx, 1998), 97 (fol. 103/40v); this is designated as CSRP^cin the ECM following C. Müller-Kessler, ‘Codex Sinaiticus Rescriptus (CSRG/O/P/S). A Collection of Christian Palestinian Aramaic Manuscripts’ Le Muséon 127 (2014), 263–309.
Armenian: Out of 220 manuscripts studied by Colwell, 99 manuscripts (which are generally earlier manuscripts) end Mark at 16:8, 33 manuscripts add the Long Ending after an end-title for the Gospel of Mark (or other closing signal), while 88 manuscripts (generally later ones) include 16:9–20. He concludes that 16:9–20 were not present in the original Armenian translation. E. C. Colwell, “Mark 16:9–20 in the Armenian Version,” JBL 56 (1937), 369–386. One Armenian manuscript from AD 989 (Echmiadzin Patr. Libr. 229) attributes 16:9–20 to Ariston the elder: Colwell, “Mark 16 9–20 in the Armenian Version,” 373, 383. Cf. F. C. Conybeare, “Aristion, the Author of the Last Twelve Verses of Mark,” The Expositor Fourth Series VIII (1893), 241–254.
Georgian: Blake argued that the Adysh Gospels (dated to AD 897 and representing a translation from perhaps the fifth century) represented the earliest translation into Georgian, with later versions being adapted to Greek texts: R. P. Blake, The Old Georgian Version of the Gospel of Markfrom the Adysh Gospels with the Variants of the Opiza and Tbet’ Gospels. Edited with a Latin Translation (Patrologia Orientalis XX.3; Paris: Firmin-Didot, 1928); cf. also D. M. Lang, “Recent Work on the Georgian New Testament,” BSOAS 19 (1957), 82–93; for general orientation: J. W. Childers, “The Georgian Version of the New Testament” in The Text of the New Testament in Contemporary Research: Essays on the Status Quaestionis, 2nd ed. (eds. M. W. Holmes and B. D. Ehrman; NTTSD 42; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 293–327.

A Case for the Longer Ending of Mark

An argument for Mark 16:9–20 as the original, canonical ending, written by Mark but added by his colleagues.

James Snapp Jr.

This is the first of a series on Mark’s ending. The next article offers a case against 16:9–20.

“Some of the earliest manuscripts do not include Mark 16:9–20.” That’s how the ESV introduces Mark 16:9–20 in its heading between Mark 16:8 and 16:9. The ESV also features a footnote, stating, “Some manuscripts end the book with 16:8; others include verses 9–20 immediately after v. 8,” and “some manuscripts include after verse 8 the following: But they reported briefly to Peter and those with him all that they had been told. And after this, Jesus himself sent out by means of them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation. These manuscripts then continue with verses 9–20.”

Readers might wonder what to do when facing a contest between “Some of the earliest manuscripts,” and “other” manuscripts and “some manuscripts.” Let’s dispense with such vagueness and bring the evidence into focus. At last count, 1,653 Greek manuscripts include Mark 16:9–20. (Some of them are damaged, but show that they had the whole passage when they were pristine). Three Greek manuscripts end the text of Mark at 16:8. Eight Greek manuscripts have the so-called Shorter Ending (given above in italics from the ESV footnote). And all eight proceed to include 16:9 (a few of these eight manuscripts are fragments which, due to damage, do not have all twelve verses).

At last count, 1,653 Greek manuscripts include Mark 16:9–20.

The (Overwhelming) External Evidence

This means that 99.8% of Greek manuscripts include vv. 9–20. They include majuscule and minuscule manuscripts such as Codex Alexandrinus (5th c.), C, D (damaged, the text up to 16:15a survives), G, K, M, S, W, Y, Δ, Ρ, Σ, 33, 35, 157, 700, etc. (A more complete list can be viewed here.) Over 1,000 Greek lectionaries—manuscripts in which the text is arranged in segments assigned to days of the ecclesiastical calendar—also include Mark 16:9–20.

The Three That Lack It

The three Greek manuscripts that end the Gospel of Mark at verse 8 are two manuscripts from the fourth century, Codex Vaticanus and Codex Sinaiticus, and the twelfth-century GA 304. Let’s take a look at these three manuscripts and their anomalous features at the end of Mark.

Manuscript 304 contains the text of Matthew and Mark interspersed with commentary material. It has no closing-title for Mark—only a short poem, the Greek equivalent of, “As travelers rejoice on their homeland to look, thus also the scribe at the end of a book.” Also, the commentary material resembles that of Theophylact, who commented about vv. 9–20. This suggests that 304 may lack vv. 9–20 because its exemplar was damaged.

In Vaticanus, Mark 16:8 ends in the second column of a three-column page. The third column is blank. Vaticanus’s copyist did not leave any other blank columns in the New Testament. In Vaticanus’s Old Testament portion, three blank spaces occur, but each is clearly a side-effect of a factor in the manuscript’s production: (1) a format shift from three columns per page to two columns per page; (2) the convergence of two sections which were written by different scribes; and (3) the end of the Old Testament portion itself.

The author’s reconstruction of Mark 16:9–20 fitting in the blank space of Vaticanus.

As a deliberately placed blank column, the blank column at the end of Mark in Vaticanus is thus unique. This blank space is what could be called a “memorial space,” signifying the scribe’s recollection of material that was not in his exemplar. This is especially likely considering that vv. 9–20 fit snugly into the blank space if one begins writing 16:9–20 after 16:8 in slightly compressed lettering. (The Shorter Ending can also fit, of course, but this would remove the need for a blank column, since it fits into the space after 16:8 in the second column.)

In Sinaiticus, four replacement pages contain Mark 14:54–16:8 and Luke 1:1–56 which are not written by the scribe of the surrounding pages. It was probably made by the manuscript’s supervisor and proof reader (known as a diorthōtēs). Although initially this copyist wrote at a rate of 635 letters per column, in Luke he drastically compressed his lettering at the rate of 690 letters per column. But near the end of Mark, he did the opposite: he expanded his lettering in the first column of the third page. Without taking this step, after accidentally omitting most of Mark 16:1, the diorthōtēs would have reached the end of v. 8 in this column, leaving the next column blank. But, not wanting to do so, he not only expanded his lettering, but also made the decorative design after 16:8 uniquely emphatic.

These features indicate that Vaticanus and Sinaiticus were both made by copyists who were aware of additional material after v. 8 and decided not to include it. In Vaticanus, the decision to include those verses or not was left up to the eventual owner of the manuscript. In Sinaiticus, the diorthōtēs allowed no such option.

The Church Fathers

Evidence from the church fathers in favor of Mark 16:9–20 is even earlier than the oldest manuscript evidence. Irenaeus wrote book three of Against Heresies when Eleutherius was bishop of Rome (174–189)—at least a century before Vaticanus was produced. There Irenaeus wrote, “Also, towards the conclusion of his Gospel, Mark says, ‘So then, after the Lord Jesus had spoken to them, He was received up into heaven, and sits on the right hand of God” (3.10.5). Irenaeus’s copy of Mark obviously included Mark 16:9–20, since he is quoting here from Mark 16:19.

A marginal note in GA 72 (11th c.) which reads, “Irenaeus, who was near the time of the apostles … cites this from Mark.” The same note is in GA 1582. Photo of BL Harley MS 5647, f. 132v.

Another second-century writer, Justin Martyr (c. 160) also uses Mark 16:20. Justin’s full statement is:

“That which he says, ‘He shall send to Thee the rod of power out of Jerusalem,’ is predictive of the mighty word, which His apostles, going forth from Jerusalem, preached everywhere. And though death is decreed against those who teach or at all confess the name of Christ, we everywhere both embrace and teach it. And if you also read these words in a hostile spirit, you can do no more, as I said before, than kill us; which indeed does no harm to us, but to you and all who unjustly hate us, and do not repent, brings eternal punishment by fire” (First Apology 45).

Justin uses the words “going forth everywhere preaching” (ἐξελθόντες πανταχοῦ ἐκήρυξαν) which are found in Mark 16:20, albeit in a different order. He also mentions “the word” (cf. Mark 16:20), and he writes about how believers cannot be harmed (a theme found in 16:18). In 1881, the famous textual critic F. J. A. Hort objected to accepting Justin’s support with certainty on the grounds that Mark 16:20 “does not contain the point specially urged by Justin.”¹ But this changed in 1888 after the publication of an Arabic text of Tatian’s Diatessaron—a second century Gospel harmony. J. Rendel Harris observed that this Arabic text showed that the Diatessaron does contain the point specially urged by Justin, and that “Dr. Hort may therefore remove the query [the question mark] from the name of Justin in the tabulated evidence for the twelve verses.”²

This means that three witnesses from the second century—Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and Tatian—all attest that 16:9–20 was part of Mark’s Gospel. The Diatessaron’s inclusion of these verses is further shown by Codex Fuldensis (546) in Latin and by the use of Mark 16:15 in the commentary on Tatian’s Diatessaron by Ephrem Syrus (c. 360).

Another text, known as the Epistula Apostolorum (before 150), provides a fourth witness. Having been published in 1895, it was unknown to Hort. It was thought by the late Robert Stein to reflect its author’s awareness of Mark 16:9–20. Other researchers, including Martin Hengel, have agreed with this assessment.

More External Evidence

In the third and fourth centuries, support for Mark 16:9–20 comes from Hippolytus (235); Vincentius of Thibaris (256); De Rebaptismate (258); the pagan author Hierocles (305) who used 16:18 in a jibe issued at believers; the Syriac writer Aphrahat (337); Acts of Pilate (4th c.); the Latin commentator Fortunatianus (350); Epiphanius (375); Ambrose (385); Apostolic Constitutions (380); Palladius (late 300s); Augustine (430); Greek copies mentioned by Augustine; and the Old Latin chapter summaries (3rd–5th c.). Not to be overlooked: the Freer Logion, an interpolation placed between 16:14 and 16:15 (found only in Codex Washingtonianus, but also mentioned by Jerome). Metzger assigned the Freer Logion to the second or third century.

In the fifth century, Mark 16:9–20 is supported by Macarius Magnes (410); Pelagius, Philostorgius (425); Marius Mercator (430); Marcus Eremita (435); the Armenian translator Eznik of Golb (440); Prosper of Aquitaine (450); Nestorius, as cited by Cyril of Alexandria (440); Peter Chrysologus (440); Leo the Great; and Saint Patrick (ca. 450). In addition, Mark 16:9–20 is in the Syriac Peshitta, the Curetonian Syriac (fragmented; it has 16:17–20), and the Vulgate, which Jerome stated he prepared by consulting ancient Greek copies (in 383). The Gothic version (mid-4th c.), preserved in Codex Argenteus (from the 6th c.), also includes Mark 16:9–20 (including verses 12–20, thanks to Franz Haffner’s discovery of its final page in 1970 in Speyer, Germany).³

Clearly, there is a tremendous amount of external evidence for Mark 16:9–20 in the first five centuries of Christianity. In contrast, the possible counter evidence is meager indeed. For instance, it is often claimed that Clement of Alexandria and Origen show no knowledge of these verses. But Clement used very little of the Gospel of Mark besides chapter 10. He cited only 1.3 percent of Mark 1–9 and 11–16. Origen likewise used Mark only sparingly, and never quoted from about 70 percent of Mark’s text. Plus, near the beginning of Philocalia he may allude to 16:20: “Let a man observe how the apostles, who were sent by Jesus to proclaim the gospel, went everywhere, and he cannot help seeing their superhuman daring in obedience to the divine command.”

Answering Objections

Now, someone familiar with the arguments about Mark 16:9–20 might object, “But Eusebius of Caesarea and Jerome both wrote that hardly any of their Greek copies of Mark included 16:9–20.” One might think so, due to the inaccurate description of what Eusebius and Jerome wrote in Bruce Metzger’s much quoted Textual Commentary on the New Testament. But Roger Pearse has made a superior presentation of Eusebius’s full comments (not just out-of-context snippets) in his helpful edition Eusebius of Caesarea: Gospel Problems and Solutions. As for Jerome, D. C. Parker is basically correct in his assessment that the relevant composition by Jerome is just “a translation with some slight changes of what Eusebius had written,”⁴ and is therefore not an independent witness on this point. More importantly, Eusebius and Jerome advised their correspondents to retain Mark 16:9–20.

“But there are many manuscripts with scribal notes,” someone might say, “and these notes say that the old manuscripts don’t have Mark 16:9–20 … right?”

That idea is probably also based on vague statements in Metzger’s Textual Commentary. Let’s zoom in. The minuscule manuscripts 1, 15, 22, 205, 209, 1110, 1192, 1210, 1582, and 2886 (aka 205^abs) have a note which descends from the ancestor of their shared manuscript family. It reads, “Now in some of the copies, the Gospel stops here [at 16:8] and so do Eusebius Pamphili’s Canons [referring to the Eusebian Canons]. But in many, this [16:9–20] also appears.” In manuscripts 20, 215, and 300, the last part of the note says, “But in the ancient ones, it all appears intact.” When actually read, these notes are not as weighty as they as they may seem when described abstractly.

Allegations are sometimes also made about many manuscripts with editorial marks such as asterisks or obeli alongside Mark 16:9–20, indicative of scribal doubt. But there are no such manuscripts. Researchers have misrepresented these manuscripts too, as shown elsewhere (see here, here, here, and here).

It should be clear by now that the external evidence—manuscripts, versions, church fathers, and lectionaries—heavily favors including Mark 16:9–20. But what about the internal evidence involving style and vocabulary?

Internal Evidence

It’s true that vv. 9–20 have many words used only once in Mark’s Gospel. But eight other twelve-verse segments of Mark have even more. So, vocabulary frequency is not a compelling reason to see these verses as not being Mark’s. That said, more compelling evidence that vv. 9–20 were not the ending that Mark intended are (1) the reintroduction of Mary Magdalene; (2) the restating of the day and time; (3) the sudden absence of those who accompanied Mary Magdalene in 16:8; and (4) the lack of any mention of Galilee where Jesus is expected to meet His disciples (as predicted in 14:28 and 16:7). The overwhelming external evidence and the awkward fit of vv. 9–20 in context require some explanation.

An Explanation

Here is the scenario which I think accounts most simply for both the internal evidence and the external evidence: Mark unintentionally stopped writing his gospel account in 16:8 due to a permanent interruption (likely persecution). His colleagues, entrusted with his manifestly unfinished narrative, completed it, not by composing fresh material, but by attaching material that we now know as 16:9–20. This was material that Mark had written on a previous occasion (perhaps for Roman churches to use at Easter). Only after this auxiliary material was added did the Gospel’s “production stage” end, and its “transmission stage” begin. On this view, the earliest edition of Mark included 16:9–20.

On this view, the earliest edition of Mark included 16:9–20.

Where and when and why were vv. 9–20 removed? In Egypt, in the second century, overly meticulous scribes rejected them even though they were in their exemplars. They did so on the grounds that these verses were technically not part of Peter’s “memoirs” (which is how the Gospel of Mark was regarded in the second century). They declined to copy these verses just as one might reject an appendix written by a secretary. (John 21:25 was similarly not transcribed initially in Codex Sinaiticus,⁵ probably for a similar reason.)

The Gospel of Mark then circulated in Egypt without vv. 9–20. Later, someone in Egypt created the Shorter Ending found in some Bible footnotes today as a way to wrap up the narrative (perhaps after the 200s, considering that Eusebius never mentioned it). Next, copies of Mark with vv. 9–20 soon invaded Egypt, and Egyptian scribes combined the Shorter Ending with vv. 9–20. That this occurred in Egypt in one specific textual transmission line is shown by unique features in the text and marginalia of L, Ψ, 099, and 083 (≈ 0112) that are shared with Greek-Sahidic (i.e., Egyptian) lectionary 1602.

The Longer Ending Today

The foibles of some Egyptian copyists do not outweigh the general judgment of the Christian church.

If this is correct, then the way we should treat Mark 16:9–20 today becomes clear. The foibles of some Egyptian copyists do not outweigh the general judgment of the Christian church. It may be auxiliary, but it is still original, authentic, and canonical. In this, it is like various other passages in the Bible such as Deuteronomy 34:5–12, Joshua 24:29–33, Proverbs 30–31, Jeremiah 52, etc. That is how the Christian church, resisting false impressions from vague footnotes and misinformation, should continue to regard Mark 16:9–20.

For a response to this argument, read the case against the Longer Ending.

Notes

1
B. F. Westcott and F. J. A Hort, The New Testament in the Original Greek: Appendix, Notes on Select Readings (New York: Harper, 1882), 39.
2
J. Rendel Harris, The Diatessaron of Tatian: A Preliminary Study (London: C.J. Clay, 1890), 58.
3
See Oswald J. L. Szemerényi, “A New Leaf of the Gothic Bible,” Language 48.1 (1972): 1–10.
4
D. C. Parker, The Living Text of the Gospels (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 135.
5
As shown in the ultraviolet light enhanced photo of H. J. M. Milne and T. C. Skeat, The Codex Sinaiticus and the Codex Alexandrinus (London: British Museum/Library, 1955), 28.

The Most Important Bible Translation You’ve Never Heard of

Used by the Apostles and the early church, the Greek translations of the Old Testament may be the most important ever made.

William A. Ross

It’s difficult to overstate the importance of the Septuagint for the textual history of Scripture in both Hebrew and Greek and in both the Old and New Testament. It constituted a major part of the textual environment of second temple Judaism and early Christianity both in terms of number of copies and in the influence of those copies on other writers and scribes.

Like most important things, the Septuagint is also complicated. It is notoriously difficult to define and has been the object of steady and strident debate since its inception right up to the present. The complexity explains why, even now, there is still no complete critical scholarly edition of the entire corpus. More than just establishing the text of the Septuagint itself, specialists continue to grapple with numerous parallel questions related, for example, to postclassical Greek, diaspora Judaism, and the history of Ptolemaic Egypt, among other areas.

This article will briefly introduce the Septuagint, beginning with the matter of origins before looking at translation style, textual development, and various ways in which the Septuagint weighs upon other areas of biblical scholarship.

Approaching Definition and Origins

It is helpful to keep in mind that—although one can purchase a physical or electronic copy today—in antiquity, the Septuagint was not actually one thing that existed as a distinct physical entity. In fact, it can be helpful to think of the term “Septuagint” as a catch-all label for a broad area of research in biblical texts and languages. But perhaps we can be a bit more specific.

Thinking About a Definition

The term “Septuagint” is typically used to refer to a collection of ancient translations of the Hebrew Bible along with other texts usually called the Apocrypha.

At a basic level, the term “Septuagint” is typically used to refer to a collection of ancient translations of the Hebrew Bible along with various other Jewish Greek texts that are now usually called the Apocrypha. The latter include writings such as Tobit, 1 Esdras, and Sirach, some of which were translations while others were originally written in Greek by Jewish authors. There are certainly worthy questions wrapped up with the Apocrypha—particularly related to the question of canon—but this article will focus instead upon the Greek translations of the Hebrew Bible.

It is important to notice that the word “translations” in the last sentence is plural. It is all too easy to conceptualize the Septuagint as a standalone, single-volume hardback produced in its entirety by a single translation committee working with a shared philosophy, much like in the case of modern Bible translations. But doing so, intentionally or not, is a serious mistake. The variegated corpus of Greek texts (and their textual traditions) that make up what we now call the Septuagint were translated by different people, in different locations, at different times, for different purposes, often with different Hebrew texts, and in many cases more than once for a particular book.

At no point in antiquity, that we know of, was there any term used to identify those texts as a unified corpus distinct from the Hebrew “scriptures” (graphai, γραφαί) in general. Pinning down the details of each of those factors and considering how they affected the Bible’s production and development are ongoing tasks of Septuagint scholarship today.

Thinking About Origins

That being said, there is some consensus as to the origins of the earliest translation initiative. Scholars agree that the Pentateuch (Genesis through Deuteronomy) was the first part of the Hebrew Bible translated into Greek by Jews living in Hellenistic Egypt, probably in the middle or early part of the third century BC. Consensus on this point has become possible in part thanks to Patristic testimony, but even more so owing to scholarship that has managed to date the linguistic features of the Greek Pentateuch to that period.

Scholars are far less agreed about why the Greek Pentateuch was produced in the first place. To be sure, the centrality of the Pentateuch in Jewish life can explain why it was the first portion translated. An equally obvious factor was that, by the third century, the Jewish community in Egypt was fully Greek-speaking, and so naturally had a need for their Scripture in the language they used in everyday life, including their religious life.

It may have been in Jewish liturgical practice that the earliest translation from Hebrew occurred orally, gradually leading to certain generally accepted practices that were used later in the written versions. Translation itself was certainly not an unusual part of life in the multilingual context of Hellenistic Egypt, and there is good evidence that those who produced the Greek Pentateuch were either professional translators in the Ptolemaic administration themselves or consulted with those who were.

Although the main impetus for translating the Hebrew Bible was probably internal to the Jewish community, it is very possible that some external motivation also helped. One ancient account of external motivation appears in the Letter of Aristeas, a second-century document framed as an eyewitness account of why and how the Jews had produced the Greek Pentateuch. The Letter is now widely regarded as fictitious (and rightly so), but some scholars do find parts of the story credible. Any official government involvement in the project was probably not as grand as the royal invitation and fanfare portrayed in the Letter of Aristeas. But, given the kind of status the Jews enjoyed in Hellenistic society, Ptolemaic sponsorship of the translation project of some sort is possible, even if it was indirect.

Aside from the Pentateuch, there is little certainty as to when the rest of the Hebrew Bible was translated into Greek. Scholars generally recognize that most of the Historical Books and the Prophets, along with the Psalms, were translated by the mid-second century BC (see the Prologue to Sirach). Other books like Ecclesiastes, however, may not have been translated at all until well after the turn of the era.

Translation Styles and Development

To attempt to describe the translation style of the Septuagint as a whole is similar to trying to describe the climate of the entire North American continent. Saying anything useful really depends on what part you are looking at. Even so, to press the metaphor, there are some regions of the Septuagint that can be grouped together given the similarity of translational climate. We can identify three.

Three Main Translation Styles

First, scholars agree that the style of the Greek Pentateuch set a benchmark for later translation activity. As a general rule, the translation is conventional Greek that matches each Hebrew word in order. Not infrequently, however, a translator departed from Hebrew word order in favor of maintaining Greek conventions. But occasionally, representing the Hebrew source text was more important, though it is not always clear why.

The translators were native Greek speakers with a standard Hellenistic education and clear familiarity with the Hebrew Bible. So it’s rarely appropriate to attribute translation choices that seem odd to us to some lack of competency in Greek or familiarity with Scripture on the part of the translators. Numerous factors were involved simultaneously. The result in the Greek Pentateuch was an eclectic translation that was unpretentious but not without formality, creativity, and the occasional literary flair. The details of that style set a standard to which many later translators aspired, for example, in the Psalms and the Minor Prophets, and even in non-translated Jewish Greek works like Ezekiel the Tragedian.

Not all translators followed the tradition of the Greek Pentateuch. As early as the second century BC, another, more paraphrastic style emerged that was much less concerned to represent each Hebrew word in order with a close Greek equivalent. Books translated in this style include Job, Proverbs, and Isaiah, and their texts often differ from what we find in the Masoretic Text (MT) tradition of the Hebrew Bible known today.

The opening of Numbers in the Yonah Pentateuch (14th c.), showing its ornate micrography. BL Add MS 21160. Public domain
The Extraordinary Hebrew Text behind Your English Bible
The Masoretic Text is the fruit of the genius of Jewish textual scholars who codified the pronunciation of the Hebrew text.
Kim Phillips

Shifts in word order and even relocation, omission, or addition of entire sentences are not uncommon, making it difficult to know whether the translator was working from a text like the MT and going his own way or translating basically word-for-word but with a Hebrew text different from anything we now know.

A third translation style also appeared, at least by the first century BC, with somewhat reversed tendencies that strove instead to represent every Hebrew word in order even more stringently than in the Greek Pentateuch. This tradition seems to have been part of a revision movement in which existing translations were modified in certain ways. Despite the more exacting approach, even this translation tradition was not entirely devoid of Greek linguistic style, and in time some books like Lamentations and Ruth were not revised with this mindset but actually translated that way from the start.

The Transmission and Development of the Corpus

Because the Greek translations of the Hebrew Bible emerged gradually over three centuries rather than all at once, the copying and transmission of the written texts themselves influenced the production of later books as misunderstanding or disagreement occurred.

Of course, as texts were used and copied over time, unintentional changes appeared in the Greek manuscript traditions. These variants were introduced in several ways that will be familiar to those acquainted with New Testament textual criticism. Inadvertently skipping over part of the text in the copying process (known as parablepsis) occurred, as did simple misreading or mishearing, among other unwitting missteps.

More significantly for the Septuagint corpus, however, are the intentional textual changes that occurred over time. This phenomenon was noted already as part of a translation style that grew out of textual revision often oriented towards a (proto-Masoretic) Hebrew text, the rationale for which is not always obvious. Some revision occurred at the level of wording. When that happened, the resulting text may or may not have differed significantly from the old Greek version, depending on how that original version itself was translated. The Old Greek version of Daniel was fairly paraphrastic, so its later revision involved substantial reworking. But the Old Greek version of Judges was closer to the style of the Greek Pentateuch, so its later revision was not nearly as thoroughgoing.

Other kinds of intentional revision involved broader changes in what might be called textual shape. In these cases, existing translations were expanded, abridged, or rearranged at a discourse level with minimal or even no reference to any known Hebrew source text. The book of Esther is a good example of this phenomenon, with two Greek versions that differ from each other, yet both contain six chapters additional to those found in the MT. Apart from the revisions already mentioned, the Greek tradition of Daniel also has significant additions compared with the MT. In these cases, at least, the additions to Esther and Daniel are now grouped with the Apocrypha.

The Importance of the Septuagint

Dr. Ross’s new book offers a beginner’s guide to the Septuagint and its importance.

To be sure, much more detail about the Septuagint could be (and elsewhere has been) spelled out. But it is more helpful at this point instead to broaden the scope and consider the importance of the Septuagint for biblical scholarship as a whole.

In keeping with the theme of the aims of this website and its institute, one of the major ways in which the Septuagint is of paramount importance is in establishing the text of Scripture. As already noted, one particularly important aspect of that discussion is the matter of Old Testament canon. For some time, there has been a tendency to situate the Apocrypha within a purported “Septuagint canon” that was larger and later informed the books found in Christian codices like Vaticanus. The issues involved are complex, but this approach is at odds with ancient testimony and lists (e.g., Josephus, Against Apion 1.37–42), none of which seem to recognize a canon broader than that of the Hebrew Bible.

Of course, in addition to informing the boundaries of the Old Testament, the Septuagint is also of paramount importance for establishing the text itself. Attentive Bible readers may have noticed the marginal comments or footnotes at various points stating that a modern translation of the Hebrew Bible has in fact adopted something from the Septuagint. At 1 Samuel 1:24, for example, modern translations like the ESV and NIV follow the Septuagint and Dead Sea Scrolls in the main text so that Hannah takes young Samuel to the house of the Lord with a “three-year-old bull.” The footnotes alert the reader to the MT’s reading which has Hannah take “three bulls” instead. The Septuagint reading certainly makes better sense with the next verse.

In such cases, the Septuagint is judged by various means to have preserved a better reading. Making that judgment can be very difficult and involves something of an interpretive circle: Does the Septuagint differ from the MT at a particular point because the translator’s source text said something different there, or because the translator chose on that occasion not to represent his source text word for word? To arrive at an answer, we must have some understanding of how a given translator usually approaches his task. But, of course, to know what to expect of a translator assumes we can derive that expectation from a comparison of the Greek and Hebrew texts as we have them. These are difficult issues to settle and require great skill.

Last but certainly not least, the Septuagint also influenced the authors of the New Testament, who themselves read and knew Scripture in Greek (and often in Hebrew as well). As already noted, we should avoid thinking that the Septuagint existed in a way that Paul, for example, could have taken it off his shelf to look up a passage as he wrote. There was no “it”—no “Septuagint pew Bible” in any simplistic way.

There was Scripture, preserved in better or worse forms, in Greek. For that reason, the textual, linguistic, and even theological implications of the Septuagint for New Testament studies constitute a dense and important scholarly field of research. For example, there is ongoing debate within Septuagint scholarship as to the prevalence of theological tendencies manifested in the Greek translations of the Hebrew Bible themselves.

The textual, linguistic, and even theological implications of the Septuagint for New Testament studies constitute an important field of research.

The same can be said about the nature and meaning of innumerable features of the language of the Septuagint. But, aside from grappling with such issues directly, New Testament scholars have the added complexity of asking whether and how the New Testament authors themselves might have read and understood the Greek versions of the Hebrew Bible, and what kind of influence that might have had—in textual form or vocabulary choice, for example—upon their interpretive posture and scriptural reasoning.

Conclusion

It should be clear by this point that the Septuagint is a broad and complex area of study. We should avoid oversimplifying it as we think about the textual history of the Bible, lest we come to unwarranted conclusions. Yet even so, with some guidance understanding, the Septuagint is not beyond the grasp of the typical person in the pew who wants to know more about the origins of Scripture. Alongside the Text & Canon Institute website, good resources exist to help people do just that.

The New Testament Use of Jewish Pseudepigrapha

Why the New Testament authors sometimes drew on ancient literary works written under false names

Daniel M. Gurtner

New Testament authors naturally draw heavily on the Old Testament in their writings. They also show familiarity with other writings, such as the Greek poet Aratus of Soli, whose Phaenomena from the third century BC is quoted by Paul in Acts 17:28. Paul was also able to converse with the Epicureans and Stoics of Athens and was likely familiar with writings from those philosophies as well (Acts 17:18).

The New Testament writers also drew on works known as the “pseudepigrapha.” These are writings that are often attributed to ancient figures, typically from the Old Testament, but not actually written by them. These were likely known by the New Testament authors, but their use in the New Testament is both sparse and debated. While one may find numerous points of parallel ideas, perhaps indicative of a shared Palestinian Jewish contexts, there are few quotations or clear allusions. Here we will overview the most prominent ones.

Pseudepigrapha in the Book of Jude

The clearest use of the Jewish Pseudepigrapha by New Testament writers is found in Jude, a book widely recognized for its familiarity with the literature of Palestinian Judaism and the only book of the NT to quote explicitly from the pseudepigrapha (vv. 14–15). But Jude also alludes to several passages in his brief letter. For example, Jude 5–7 warns of “angels who did not keep their own domain but abandoned their proper abode” (v. 6a) which God has “kept in eternal bonds under darkness for the judgment of the great day” (v. 6b).

Book cover — For a thorough introduction to the Jewish Pseudepigrapha, see Dr. Gurtner’s recent book.

This reflects a tradition which speaks of the descent of the “sons of God” (Gen. 6:1–4), but more immediately refers to a notion outside the Bible that describes angels transgressing their proper boundaries. This is found in one of the oldest writings of the pseudepigrapha, the Book of Watchers (1 Enoch 1–36), where God commands the angel Raphael to bind up for judgment one of the rebellious fallen angels, called Watchers, known as Azazʾel:

… the Lord said to Raphael, “Bind Azazʾel hand and foot (and) throw him into the darkness!” And he made a hole in the desert which was in Dudaʾel and cast him there; he threw on top of him rugged and sharp rocks. And he covered his face in order that he may not see light; and in order that he may be sent into the fire on the great day of judgment.” (1 Enoch 10:4–6)

In 1 Enoch Azazʾel’s fate will be shared by the other fallen Watchers held in a prison until final judgment (1 Enoch 18:14–16; 21:3, 10). These fallen angels, or Watchers, were, according to 1 Enoch, responsible for introducing evil into the world (1 Enoch 6–19). Nothing is said in 1 Enoch about the fall of Adam (Rom. 5). And Raphael’s role, according to the passage to which Jude alludes, is to bind up one of the leading rebels and hold him for God’s judgment.

In Jude the strange story serves as an illustration: if these angelic figures will not escape God’s judgment, neither will the false teachers who have crept into the church (Jude 4). No doubt in Jude’s context the purpose is to encourage the readers that the real threat their enemies pose to the church will not go unpunished by God’s righteous judgment (v. 10).

Shortly thereafter, Jude lashes out at his opponents for reviling “angelic majesties” (Jude 8 NASB) or, more properly “slander the glorious ones,” which are surely angels. Regardless of what kind of slander he has in mind, Jude cites a curious tradition regarding “Michael the archangel” (Jude 9) who did not dare revile even the devil but said “The Lord rebuke you” (Jude 9 NASB). This means that even Michael did not have the audacity to rebuke the devil, like the false teachers slander angels. Instead, Michael leaves such judgment in the (proper) hands of God. Though we may have no idea where this notion of Michael conversing with the devil comes from, apparently it was sufficiently familiar to Jude’s reader that Jude could use it as an illustration.

Illustration by Josh Koch. Image of Enoch from the 1728 Figures de la Bible
The Pseudepigrapha of Second Temple Judaism
A consideration of Jewish Pseudepigrapha raises the question whether the New Testament contains books written under a false name.
Daniel M. Gurtner

This account most likely derives from the Testament of Moses, which purports to be a farewell exhortation given to Joshua by Moses before the transfer of leadership of the people of Israel. The ending of the book has been lost, and it is generally assumed that Moses’ death was narrated at some point in the earlier text. Nevertheless, the tradition was sufficiently familiar to Jude’s readers to illustrate the point about the audacity of the false teachers.

Jude also makes an explicit quotation from 1 Enoch, again in a context in which he continues his denunciation of the false teachers, even claiming that Enoch prophesied about them:

Enoch, the seventh from Adam, prophesied about them: “See, the Lord is coming with thousands upon thousands of his holy onesto judge everyone, and to convict all of them of all the ungodly acts they have committed in their ungodliness, and of all the defiant words ungodly sinners have spoken against him.” (Jude 1:14–15 NIV)

The quotation is taken from 1 Enoch 1:9, which is the very beginning of the Book of Watchers (1 Enoch 1–36). In this book, Enoch, who appears only briefly in the pages of Genesis (Gen. 5:19–24), receives a vision from God (1 Enoch 1:1–2). This vision announces that God will bring judgment upon the wicked, whose fate is stated in verse 9, that quoted by Jude:

Behold, he comes with the myriads of his holy ones, to execute judgment on all, and to destroy all the wicked, and to convict all flesh for all the wicked deeds that they have done, and the proud and hard words that wicked sinners spoke against him (1 Enoch 1:9)

Jude seems to make a few adjustments to the 1 Enoch text, but there is no doubt he is quoting from 1 Enoch 1:9. Again the context of Jude makes clear that he sees the illustration from 1 Enoch as pertinent for his understanding of God’s judgment that will befall the false teachers in his own setting. It is worth observing that Jude regards Enoch’s utterance as prophecy (Jude 14). But this does not imply Jude regarded 1 Enoch as having canonical status. Prophecy in apocalyptic literature in Second Temple Judaism was often a key component to the revelatory experience of the visionary as divine mediators, without necessarily implying that the document in which it was found had authority for its respective communities.

Jude is among works spoken against by some precisely because of its use of 1 Enoch.

Jude presumes his readers are sufficiently familiar with the traditions referenced to make sense to his readers. Perhaps a more complicated matter pertains to the way in which Jude was received in the early church because of its use of these sources. Jude is among works spoken against by some precisely because of its use of 1 Enoch (Jerome, Lives of Illustrious Men 4) yet, according to Jerome (AD 347–c. 420) is reckoned among the Holy Scriptures (Lives of Illustrious Men 4). Clement of Alexandria (c. AD 200) in his Stromata (again according to Eusebius, HE VI.xiii.6) Jude is among the “disputed Scriptures.”

Tertullian believed that Jude regarded 1 Enoch so highly that the church should afford it canonical authority (On the Dress of Women 3.3). Though Jude was excluded from the Syriac New Testament (Peshitta) until the sixth century, it was listed as Scripture in the Muratorian canon and Athanasius’s Festal Letter of AD 367. The general consensus, then, is that Jude was widely, though not universally, regarded as authoritative scripture and that its usage of pseudepigraphical sources was among the points of contention.

Pseudepigrapha and the Book of James

The book of James makes use of a tradition regarding the biblical Job, but it is debated whether he depends upon the psuedepigraphical source or whether he shares close points of correspondence by virtue of their shared milieu. James, in writing about the patient endurance exhibited by Job, says:

As you know, we count as blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job’s perseverance (hypomonēn) and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy (James 5:11 NIV)

There are points of similarity between this illustration of Job and the account found in the Testament of Job, which is itself an embellishment of the biblical book of Job. As a Testament, it presents Job imparting wisdom to his progeny prior to his impending death with particular emphasis on the virtue of patient endurance. Most of the work (T. Job 1:4–45:4) is Job’s first-person account of the cause and consequences of his hardships and concludes with Job’s death, the ascent of his soul, and burial (T. Job 51–53).

What’s particularly interesting is how Job’s legendary endurance and patience are emphasized throughout. The key verse which is sometimes identified as a source for James is T. Job 1:5: “I am your father Job, fully engaged in endurance (hypomonē). But you are a chosen and honored race from the seed of Jacob, the father of your mother.” Most scholars attribute the Testament of Job to an Egyptian Jew writing at the turn of the era primarily based on its affinities with other Jewish writings from that date. Regardless, it seems evident that James’s distinctive image of Job matches the portrait in the Testament of Job as a model for patient endurance (T. Job 1:3; 4:6; 5:1; 26:6; 27:10) and presumes his knowledge of extracanonical traditions, whether he is referencing a literary form of the Testament of Job as we know it or not.

Conclusion

Our overview of these two New Testament texts that mention traditions found in the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha shows that at least some authors were familiar with these writings. For their own purposes, these authors made use of them with presumably some notion that they were in some way familiar to their respective readers. A host of other discussions on lesser points could be proposed.

That New Testament authors are familiar with and at times make use of these traditions need mean no more than they were useful for their purpose.

That New Testament authors are familiar with and at times make use of these traditions need mean no more than they were useful for their purposes, and readers of the New Testament are quite familiar with these authors’ tendency to do so. Jesus himself makes use of nature, agricultural experiences, and home life in His parables. Paul is even known to use an inscription found on an altar that reads, “To an unknown god” (Acts 17:23) as a starting point for his proclamation of the gospel in Athens.

In this vein, New Testament authors’ use of pseudepigraphical material need not mean they regarded it as authoritative or as scripture. Rather, it reflects authors who were attuned to the literary contexts in which they and their readers functioned.

This article is also available in Polish.

Topics

Levels

Intermediate

The Material Data

Dissecting the Data

From Text to Canon

Related

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Conclusion

Notes

1. They are beautiful

2. They connect us to the ancient world

3. They include the earliest copies of our sacred scriptures

4. They help us appreciate why there are differences in the ancient copies

Related

Notes

What Counts as Evidence

Points of Agreement

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Differences of Judgment

More Substantial Disagreements

1. Internal Evidence

2. Church Fathers

3. External Evidence

4. Method

The Significance of the Longer Ending

Notes

The (Overwhelming) External Evidence

The Three That Lack It

The Church Fathers

More External Evidence

Answering Objections

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Internal Evidence

An Explanation

The Longer Ending Today

Notes

Approaching Definition and Origins

Thinking About a Definition

Thinking About Origins

Translation Styles and Development

Three Main Translation Styles

Related

The Transmission and Development of the Corpus

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The Importance of the Septuagint

Conclusion

Pseudepigrapha in the Book of Jude

Related

Pseudepigrapha and the Book of James

Conclusion

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