02. Chapter 2. THE JUDAISTIC CONTROVERSY, THE GENTILE CONVERTS, ...

CHAPTER II THE JUDAISTIC CONTROVERSY, THE GENTILE CONVERTS, AND THE BACKGROUND OF GENTILE CHRISTIANITY THE earliest Christian community was in Jerusalem: the fact that it was here and not in Galilee is perhaps a curious problem, but it cannot be denied. Moreover it was a community within the limits of Judaism rather than one clearly separated from it. The disciples frequented the Temple, observed the Jewish Law, and believed all the articles of the Jewish faith. That which distinguished them from other Jews was that to the usual Pharisaic belief that in the last days the Messiah—the Lord’s Anointed—would appear on earth, to break the powers of evil and to establish the kingdom of God, they added the assurance that they knew who the Messiah was. He was Jesus, who had appeared already as Son of man—that is, as Messiah in personality, but not yet in function,—had been crucified and buried, and had been raised again by God to the glorified existence of the heavenly Messiah who would soon come in the clouds of heaven to inaugurate in power that Kingdom of God of which He was already the proleptic head, and the Christians were already the proleptic members, and as such had received the Holy Spirit which was to be given in the “last days.” This was the point on which Jews and Christians differed,—the identification or the non-identification of the Messiah, whom they both expected, with Jesus; and they found their common ground for argument in the Law and in the Prophets, which each regarded as the infallibly inspired word of God. Probably there was a dispute between them as to the interpretation of the Old Testament, for it is likely that the Christians explained passages such as Isaiah 53:1-12, in which allusion is made to a suffering servant of Jahweh, in relation to the Messiah, while such a view did not obtain among the Jews. Nevertheless, this was relatively a matter of domestic difference of opinion, and could scarcely be regarded, except in the heat of controversy, as unfaithfulness to the hope of Israel. Christians in no sense felt that they had ceased to be Jews, and the question of the admission of the Gentiles was not raised. It is true that there had been an open rupture between Jesus and the Galilaean synagogues, and that the Priests had conspired to put Him to death, but the disciples clung to the Temple, and never accepted the situation. Perhaps the most instructive parallel to their position (though of course only in this respect) is afforded by that of Catholic Modernists, who have been frequently disavowed by Catholic authority, yet have never accepted the situation. That there was more or less severe, but probably intermittent rather than continuous persecution of the Christians by the Jews is probable in itself, and corroborated by the accounts in Acts 4:1-37 and Acts 5:1-42. But there is no suggestion that either the Jews or the Christians felt that the latter were in any way outside the Jewish Church.The Christians held that the crucifixion of their leader had been a crime, and the Jews believed that it was a necessary incident in the development of political life, but the former did not think themselves outside the covenant or the service of the Temple, and the latter were not prepared to drive out those whose only fault was an erroneous belief that they knew who the Messiah was, for it must be remembered that the strong eschatological and Messianic belief of the Christians was—apart from the question of the identity of the Messiah—shared by many of the Jews, and especially by those who were most enthusiastic for the “Hope of Israel”

Nevertheless, looking back on history, it is clear that this situation could not last. If Christianity had remained unchanged it would have died out, as indeed it did among the Jews, so soon as the eschatological expectation was clearly falsified, for to the Jews—who had already a divinely instituted Church—it was impossible to adopt the point of view which identified or confused the Kingdom with the Church, and put into the background the expectation of the Parousia. It was impossible for Christianity to flourish for long within the limits of the Judaism of Jerusalem. But already partially distinct from the Judaism of Jerusalem there was a Judaism in the Diaspora which offered a far more hopeful prospect, and from the beginning it was the Hellenistic Jews belonging to this who were attracted. Apart altogether from questions as to the accuracy of the account given in Acts of the day of Pentecost, it is clear that the point which St. Luke wishes to emphasize, in addition to the inspiration of the Church, is the Hellenistic character of the converts. They were Jews, but they were Jews of the Diaspora, “Jews, devout men … Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites”—and St. Luke exhausts language in his attempt to make plain their diversity of nationality. The introduction of this new element could not but profoundly affect the development of the community. The first sign which we find of its influence is in Acts 6:1-7, which describes how there was friction between the Hellenist and Palestinian Christians as to the distribution of alms among their “widows.” The result of this was the introduction into the community of a new element of organization. Up till now the leaders had been “the Twelve.” They had been promised by Jesus positions of authority in the Kingdom, and were to be the Judges over the twelve tribes of Israel.Among other things they had apparently undertaken various social and financial arrangements which at the least were regular and organized charity, at the most, something approaching communism—it is probably impossible to define them more accurately. But now a great part, or perhaps all, of this work was handed over to “the Seven,” who seem mostly to have belonged to the Hellenist section. According to St. Luke, then, the duties of “the Seven” were primarily practical and internal to the community; but they also seem to have attracted attention by their development of certain lines of thought which were probably present in the teaching of Jesus Himself, but were not taken up by the original Jerusalem community. These lines were concerned with the Temple and the official class connected with it, which was treated by St. Stephen in a manner which seems to find no parallel in the teaching of the Twelve, and certainly not in that of other Jewish Christians. This new development of Christianity met with active hostility from the orthodox Hellenists in Jerusalem; St. Stephen was summoned before the Sanhedrin, and stoned to death, while other Hellenists were forced to leave Jerusalem. It appears, however, that this persecution did not extend to the original disciples, for St. Luke expressly excepts the Apostles, by which he probably means the Twelve. Probably, therefore, we ought to consider that the persecution connected with the death of St. Stephen was primarily a persecution of Hellenists by Hellenists, and did not largely affect the original Palestinian Christians. The Christian Hellenists scattered; St. Philip among others preached in Samaria, and on one occasion returning to Judaea converted an Ethiopian—probably a proselyte. Ultimately he went farther north, and settled in Caesarea. Thus a Christian propaganda began to spread among the Hellenist Jews outside Jerusalem. What form their teaching took we do not know in any detail, but we may be sure that it varied to some extent from that of the original disciples, and the account given in the Acts of the teaching of St. Stephen seems to show that it was perceptibly less attached to the Temple and to the Law, an attitude which was probably not uncommon among Hellenists entirely apart from Christianity. In answer to this propaganda a persecution was instituted among the orthodox Hellenists, with the support of the priests at Jerusalem, and among those who took part in it was Saul of Tarsus.

Obviously the original Jewish community could not stand entirely outside this movement. Possibly some of its members doubted whether it ought to meet with approbation. At all events, some of the leaders felt compelled to investigate it; among them St. Peter and St. John the son of Zebedee, who went to Samaria where Philip had been preaching. What they saw led them to approve, so that they joined in the work of evangelization outside Jerusalem, and thus began careers which ultimately led both of them far afield into the Roman Empire. The result of this development was that the history of the Church began to divide into two branches. On the one hand, there was the propaganda of the Hellenists, ever spreading further and further from the centre; and on the other, the preaching of the members of the Jerusalem community, for the time, at least, confined to a circle of a smaller radius.

Turning first to the Jerusalem community, two facts are of outstanding importance. The absence of St. Peter, and probably of other members of the “Twelve” led to a change in organization. Instead of the Twelve being the rulers, we find James, the brother of the Lord, apparently becoming the head of the community. Whether this took place in consequence of a definite arrangement, or more or less imperceptibly in consequence of the absence of the Twelve, we do not know, but it probably marks the acceptance of the δεσπόσυνοι—the family of the Lord—as having in some sense a claim to the headship of the community in Jerusalem. St. James appears to have belonged to the original type of Christianity, and was for many years unharmed; indeed, tradition represents him as enjoying the general respect of the Jews.Thus a conservative and essentially Jewish type of Christianity became fixed in Jerusalem. On the other hand, St. Peter, the leader of the Twelve, was induced to take a new and profoundly important step, which he was successful in commending at all events to the theoretical approbation of the Christians in Jerusalem. This was the conversion of Cornelius. Cornelius was a centurion stationed in Caesarea, not a proselyte but a “God-fearer” who desired to hear the teaching of St. Peter. St. Peter hesitated whether he might go to a Gentile, but was convinced by a vision that he ought to do so, and after hearing his gospel Cornelius visibly received the gift of the Spirit.

St. Peter interpreted this fact to mean that he might at once be formally admitted by Baptism into the Christian community. It is important here to notice how central was the belief that Christians were men who were inspired with a Holy Spirit: there are many problems in connection with this fact—for instance, its relation to Baptism —but as to the fact itself there can be no doubt. When, therefore, St. Peter found that Cornelius and his household presented all the signs of being “filled with the Spirit,” he naturally was forced to the conclusion that Cornelius, Gentile though he was, had been placed within the Christian Community. The great importance of this decision of St. Peter was that it forced him, and the Church of Jerusalem with him, to acknowledge that it was both theoretically and practically possible for a Gentile to become a Christian, or in other words, a proleptic member of the Messianic Kingdom. It did not, however, settle the further question, which was sure to arise, whether Gentiles who became Christians were free from the obligation of the Jewish Law. St. Peter himself does not seem at the moment to have seen clearly that this question must arise, and his action in baptizing Cornelius was to some extent a confusion of thought. Before the incident of Cornelius he had held that the Christian community was open to Jews only, and that the method of entry was Baptism. From the gift of the Spirit he concluded that Cornelius had been divinely admitted into the Church, and therefore that the limitation of Church membership to Jews was untenable. By a strict parity of reasoning he ought to have decided that it also proved that Baptism was not the only method of entry into the Church, for Cornelius was, by the evidence of the Spirit, among its members, though he had never been baptized. But this reasoning was not followed by St. Peter, who baptized Cornelius, opening, as it were, the door after the guest was already in the house. It was therefore possible for the Jewish Christians to argue that even if Gentiles had been admitted into the Church, they ought to be circumcised as well as baptized. If they followed the reasoning which led St. Peter to admit Gentiles, and to reject the limitation to Jews because of the evidence of the Spirit, naturally they would not require circumcision; but if they followed the reasoning which led him in spite of that evidence to baptize Cornelius, they would logically demand circumcision as well. That this attitude was actually adopted is clear from the course of events, though it is not actually stated in connection with the case of Cornelius.

Thus the result of the incident of Cornelius may be stated to have been that the Christians in Jerusalem and Palestine generally recognized the admission of Gentiles to the Christian Church, but that the exact conditions imposed on them remained undetermined.

Meanwhile events of equal importance had happened in the circle of the Hellenists. St. Paul, the enthusiast for orthodoxy had seen a vision on the road to Damascus, had joined the ranks of the Hellenist Christians whom he had previously persecuted, and was engaged in preaching in Cilicia in the district of which Tarsus, his native city, was the centre. Moreover, some of the Hellenists who had been driven out of Jerusalem—according to St. Luke they were Cypriotes and Cyrenaeans—had settled in Antioch, and had taken the epoch-making step of preaching to the Gentiles, no doubt chiefly among the God-fearers, with immediate and great success, without insisting on their adopting the Law or practices of Judaism.Obviously this raised in an acute form the same question as the incident of Cornelius, and it was impossible here to regard the circumstances as exceptional—they represented a fixed policy. The Church at Jerusalem therefore decided to send St. Barnabas to investigate the situation. He was admirably fitted for the task, for he was himself a Hellenist from Cyprus, but had always belonged to the Jerusalem community, and had relations in the city.

St. Barnabas was completely persuaded, by the facts which he saw, that the new movement was desirable, threw himself into the work, and called St. Paul from Tarsus to help him. In this way a vigorous Christianity grew up among the Gentiles, which recognized neither the circumcision nor the ceremonial law of the Jews.

If this had been a wholly new doctrine in Judaism it would be almost inconceivable that St. Paul and St. Barnabas would have started it without further discussion, but, as a matter of fact, they were only following a line of thought which had already found supporters among a minority of the Jews, not only in the Diaspora, but even in Jerusalem. It is, for instance, related by Josephus that when Izates, King of Adiabene, was converted to Judaism, the merchant Ananias whom he consulted urged him not to be circumcised, because of the offence which he would give to his subjects, but to content himself with a general observance of the Jewish Law, and adherence to the Jewish creed. This was almost exactly contemporaneous with the teaching of St. Barnabas and St. Paul in Antioch. But perhaps the most important witness to the existence of a “liberal” school among the Jews of the first century is Philo. In his book De Migratione Abrahami, he refers definitely to a class of Jews who attached only a symbolic importance to the Law. “There are persons,” he says, “who regard the traditional law as a symbol of spiritual life; the symbolic meaning they seek with every care, but despise the literal meaning. Such laxness I can only deprecate. They ought to be zealous for both,—both the exact search for the hidden meaning as well as the punctilious observance of the literal sense. … Although it be true that the law of the Sabbath contains the deeper meaning that the Creator (τὸ ἀγένητον) is active and the Creation (τὸ γενητόν) is passive, we have no right to ignore the command to keep it holy.… Even though the Feast is a symbol of the joy of the soul and of thankfulness to God, we have no right to give up the annual festivities, and though the circumcision signifies the cutting away of every passion and lust, and the destruction of all godless thoughts… we are still not justified in departing from the law of circumcision which was laid upon us.”

It is plain that Philo, who, of course, fully accepted the symbolic or allegorical meaning of the law, was acquainted with Jews who went further than he did, and regarded this not as the hidden meaning, but as the only valid meaning, so that they abandoned Circumcision, Sabbath, Feasting and Fasting, and, in a word, the whole of the ceremonial law.

If Jews were inclined in Alexandria to doubt in this manner whether the law was, in its literal sense, really valid for themselves, it is not surprising that some of them did not insist on its observance by Gentiles who desired not to be excluded from the Kingdom of God. Thus we find a few years later than Philo that the Jewish writer of the fourth book of the Oracula Sibyllinapromised entry into the Messianic kingdom to all of the heathen who accept the true God, abandon idolatry, murder, theft, fornication, and sodomy, generally lead a good life, and are baptized. Nothing whatever is said of circumcision or the Jewish Law.

Less well attested, and much less important, is the story of the Babylonian Talmud (Yebhamoth, f. 46a) that in the first century Rabbi Joshua maintained that Baptism without circumcision was sufficient for the admission of a proselyte, and was opposed by Rabbi Eliezer who argued in favour of circumcision without Baptism. Thus the more advanced position held among the Christians at Antioch as to the method by which a Gentile might be admitted was only the continuation of a discussion which had already arisen among the Jews. Neither the admission of Gentiles, nor omission of circumcision were quite new things in the history of Judaism, but both represented the adhesion of the Christians at Antioch to the more liberal principles of a minority, probably found chiefly in the Diaspora, and the rejection of the narrower and stricter point of view which was dominant in Jerusalem.

Moreover, this latter view was dominant not only among the Jews but also among many of the Christians at Jerusalem, who probably still held fast to their original point of view, and had not grasped the importance of the incident of Cornelius, so that in this way Antioch became in a few years the centre of a type of Christianity which really differed from that in Jerusalem, and was adopted chiefly by Gentiles rather than by Jews. The importance of it was that, although it may possibly have been the view of St. Barnabas and St. Paul that their converts were made members of the true Jewish Church by their Baptism, this rapidly ceased to be true of the Gentile Christians themselves. They had accepted much of the Jewish theology, and especially the doctrine of the Messiah, but the community which they desired to enter was the Messianic kingdom, not the Jewish Church, and to their mind it was plain that membership in this kingdom was the privilege of those who accepted the Messiah, and was independent of the Law, which was an exclusively Jewish possession. Let the Jews keep their own Law, they were themselves free. Either they argued like this, or else they accepted the teaching of the liberal Jews, whom Philo reprobated, to the effect that the Law had only a symbolical meaning. We find, for instance, that the writer of the Epistle of Barnabas, who may have lived in the first century, took exactly this standpoint, and regarded a literal exegesis of the Old Testament as the invention of an Evil Angel.

We cannot reconstruct the precise standpoint of the Gentile converts,—indeed, we may be certain that they had more than one—but it is at any rate plain that under the leadership of St. Barnabas and St. Paul the new type of Christianity which rejected the Law for Gentile Christians grew rapidly. It was clearly inevitable that it should come into collision with the older type at Jerusalem; sooner or later, if the unity of Christians was to be preserved, some sort of an agreement had to be reached as to the conditions of membership to be demanded from Gentile Christians; and any occasion on which the representatives of Jerusalem were brought into close relations with those of Antioch was likely to give rise to discussion on this point. Of such occasions we have in the Acts several good examples, and the effect of what may be called the Antiochene movement is quite plain. The first is the mission of St. Barnabas and St. Paul from Antioch to Jerusalem with assistance for the sufferers in the time of the famine. The writer of Acts somewhat exaggerates the universality of this famine, but it was undoubtedly widespread and particularly severe in Jerusalem. It is impossible to fix the date with absolute certainty, but 45 A. D. is not probably more than one year wrong in either direction. In Acts it is not stated that St. Barnabas and St. Paul discussed the treatment of the Gentile converts, or even that they saw the leaders of the Jerusalem Church, but it is improbable that at such a time St. James would have left Jerusalem (the question of St. Peter is more complicated (see Chap. V.), though one would be inclined to think that the need of the community would be the best reason for bringing him back to Jerusalem, if he had left it already), and just as a mission of help from Antioch to Jerusalem was an unsuitable opportunity for any public discussion as to the Antiochene movement, so it was admirably fitted for a private and friendly discussion among the leaders, and for a spirit of general concession on both sides. One of the main problems in connection with the Epistle to the Galatians is whether the meeting described in Galatians 2:1-21 may not in reality refer to some such meeting at this time, but even if this view be rejected, it still remains à priori probable that St. Peter and St. James were in Jerusalem, and that they talked with St. Barnabas and St. Paul about the question of Gentile converts and their desirability.

Probably partly as a result of their intercourse with the Church at Jerusalem, in any case immediately after it, St. Barnabas and St. Paul undertook their first missionary journey. This was so successful that the question of Gentile Christians obtained increased importance, and the Jerusalem Church took fright at a movement the true significance of which was perhaps now for the first time fully realized, and sent out a rival mission, to which reference is made both in Acts and in Galatians (Acts 15:1; Galatians 2:12), in order to convince Christians of Gentile origin that circumcision and the Law were binding on them. The result of this conflict of propaganda was, according to the Acts, the Council at Jerusalem, which was practically a meeting between representatives of the Antiochene Church and the Jerusalem leaders.

According to St. Luke’s account, speeches were made by St. Barnabas and by St. Paul representing Antioch, and afterwards by St. Peter and St. James representing Jerusalem. St. Peter and St. James recognized the force of the Antiochene arguments, and the latter proposed an eirenicon, which was drawn up in writing and circulated among the Gentile Churches by St. Barnabas, St. Paul, Silas, and Judas. As to the historical value of this narrative opinions differ widely. What may be called the extreme right wing of criticism treats it as if it were a stenographic report, while the extreme left regards it as the purely imaginary product of the writer of Acts. Probably both extremes are wrong; there seems no good reason to suppose that the exact form of the speeches of St. Peter and St. James is anything more than St. Luke’s view of the way in which they would naturally have spoken, though the substances of what they said may very probably have been communicated to him by St. Paul or Silas, or some other of those present.Similarly the decrees have a distinct à priori probability if the Lucan authorship of Acts be accepted, and it may be said with apparent reasonableness that it is far more probable that St. Luke was in a position to give the actual words of a document than of a speech. It is, of course, by no means impossible that St. Luke had heard that there was such a document, and in the usual manner of historians of his day, gave a reconstruction of it when modern writers would have been content with a description; but it is also quite possible that he may have seen a copy of it. Unless one disputes the Lucan authorship of Acts, or the general historical value of the book, every à priori probability is in favour of the view that a decision was come to, and issued by the Council at Jerusalem in the form, or very nearly in the form, given in Acts 15:1-41. If there is nothing wholly unacceptable in the account given by St. Luke, we ought to follow it. Is there anything of this kind? In attempting to answer this question we are faced with one of those complexes of historical and textual difficulties which can only be discussed profitably at some length. To do so at this point would cause too great a break in the narrative, and the detailed consideration has therefore been postponed to an appendix (pp. 48 ff.). The main points are these. The ordinary text of the Acts says that the letter of the Apostles demanded that the Gentiles should keep themselves from “things offered to idols, from blood, from things strangled, and from fornication.” Now, it is said, this is a food law, and was a compromise between the two parties: why is it never referred to in the Pauline Epistles? The answers which have been given are manifold, but they may be divided into two main classes. On the one hand, it is said that St. Paul never mentions the compromise because it was a failure from the beginning,or was only intended for the Churches of Syria Cilicia. On the other hand, it is argued that it is inconceivable that the decreesld not be mentioned by St. Paul, and therefore the account in Acts must be abandoned as unhistorical. So the matter stood for a long time, more or less at a deadlock, for the explanations given of St. Paul’s silence were quite unsatisfactory, and the abandonment of the narrative in Acts as unhistorical seemed to be insufficiently justified. Recently, however, a third view has been propounded, to the effect that the whole difficulty may be solved by textual and historical criticism, which shows that the words “things strangled” are a gloss, and that the decree was not a food law.It is discussed at length in the Appendix on pp. 48 ff. This last view is, I believe, correct. It seems to me to be the only solution enabling us to hold the accuracy of the Lucan account, and at the same time to explain St. Paul’s silence, which is perfectly intelligible if the decrees were not a compromise but a victory for his party. For with this text of the Acts—“that they should abstain from things offered to idols, from blood, and from fornication”—there was no compromise, but the decrees were the concession by the Jerusalem party of the main contention of the Antiochene movement—that converts ought to be admitted to Christianity without being compelled to observe the Jewish Law as to circumcision and ritual observances. It was not a compromise, for in a compromise each party concedes something, and if the Apostolic decrees be not a food law, but moral requirements, the Antiochene party had conceded nothing—to abstain from idolatry in any form, or from idolatry, murder, and fornication, was not a concession.

We ought thus to regard the result of the Apostolic Council as the decision of the leaders of the Church at Jerusalem to admit the contention of the Antiochene movement, and to accept Gentile converts to Christianity without the condition of observing the Jewish Law. It was not a compromise, it was a triumph—a triumph of the most far-reaching consequences for Christianity, and Judaism. For the success of Christianity and the failure of Judaism in their attempts to conquer the Roman Empire largely depended on it. Christianity had been originally a part of Judaism, and in selecting a method for carrying its propaganda among the Gentiles it had, along with the other sects of Judaism, to choose between the liberal spirit of the Diaspora—represented by Antioch—and the strictness of the dominant school of Jerusalem. Christianity at the Council of Jerusalem chose aright. Judaism both then, and after the fall of Jerusalem, chose wrongly, for though the Sibylline Oracles bear witness to the survival of the broader spirit in Judaism, it was only found in a small minority, never became typically Jewish, and soon disappeared, just as the narrower spirit survived in some parts of Jewish Christianity, but never became dominant, and ultimately died out. The result was that Christianity gained all those of the Graeco-Roman world who had felt the attraction of Jewish monotheism, Jewish ethics, and Jewish eschatological hope, while Judaism failed to do so.

It is now necessary to ask what was the general effect of this Antiochene triumph. That it was not the end of the Judaistic controversy need scarcely be said; in such a struggle the minority is defeated without being either convinced or destroyed. Even if we had no proof we should be justified in assuming that there remained a party which continued to unite Christian propaganda with a strict adhesion to the Jewish Law, and regarded the Council as a lamentable mistake. Moreover, it is obvious that the Jews would regard this new development of Christianity with increased dislike: for it was no longer merely the identification of the Messiah with Jesus, but a definite denial of the universal validity of the Jewish Law and cultus—the participation by the Christians, already heretical enough, in the dangerous latitudinarianism which Ananias had so lamentably suggested to Izates, and the Jews of the Diaspora had occasionally been so weak as to encourage. At the other end of the scale, also, human nature suggests the probability that some of the Antiochene Christians, or their converts, would rush to extremes and introduce a dangerous antinomianism in the name of liberty, and force the Antiochene leaders to protest, and to contend against extravagant perversions of their teaching.

It is therefore natural to expect to find that the Jerusalem propaganda continued among Christians, though now rather as a protesting and reactionary conservatism; that the opposition of the Jews to Christianity was strengthened and embittered; and that a new school of thought soon arose which exaggerated the plea for liberty which had been so successfully put forward by Antioch, and threatened to convert liberty into libertinism. As a matter of fact, the two first of these phenomena can be traced in the Acts, in the events of St. Paul’s final visit to Jerusalem,and the last, though it can scarcely be found in the Acts, can clearly be traced in several of the Pauline Epistles. On the occasion of St. Paul’s visit to Jerusalem, St. James, while reaffirming his acceptance of the Apostolic Decrees, emphasized the existence of “many myriads” of Christian Jews, who were all zealous for the Law and were afraid that St. Paul was not content with absolving the heathen who became Christians from the obligation of the Law, but was also teaching the Jews that it was no longer binding on them and their children. It is for our purpose immaterial whether this be accepted as really an utterance of St. James, or as representing St. Luke’s idea of the attitude of the Jewish Christians and of their leader. In either case, it is good evidence of the Jewish Christians’ position, and of their attitude towards St. Paul and the Antiochene movement generally. Equally instructive is St. Paul’s conduct: he at once agreed to show by his actions that he recognized the validity of the Law for Jews. The Jewish Christians honestly believed that the direct result of his writing and preaching must be the abandonment of the Law even by Jews; and St. Paul’s action was intended to convince them that, although the observance of the Law was not demanded from Gentiles, it was nevertheless recognized as binding on Jewish Christians. At the same time, the seriousness with which both St. James and St. Paul faced the situation suggests that some of St. Paul’s adherents were pushing his principles further, and denying that circumcision and the Law were binding on any one. We may also assume with much probability that this question was connected with a certain vagueness as to whether it was possible to say that the Messiah was already come or not. The original position was no doubt that Jesus was the Messiah, but it was equally clearly held that He had not yet come as Messiah. The Parousia—which means “coming,” not “return”—was still future, and the Messianic kingdom did not yet exist, except in a certain proleptic sense. But until the Messiah came—not until it was known who He was—the Law was binding. This was probably the original position, so far as it was consciously thought out at all, but almost from the first amongst Gentile Christians the “proleptic” element began to be forgotten, more and more importance came to be given to the actual work of Jesus, His life to be regarded as really a “coming” of the Messiah, and the concept of the Kingdom to gain a somewhat different meaning. With such a position the Law naturally seemed to be entirely superseded. Over against this extreme Gentile position stood the mass of Jewish Christians, who were zealous for the Law, had not St. James’s personal knowledge of St. Paul, but identified him with the extreme position of some of his followers, and so came more and more to stand aloof, and to dislike the whole Antiochene movement. The increased hostility of the non-Christian Jews is equally well shown by the Pauline Epistles and by the Acts. According to these, St. Paul’s most determined enemies were the Jews. In Galatia, Asia, Macedonia; and Achaia Jewish hostility was strong and irreconcileable, and in Jerusalem it was the direct cause of his imprisonment. It is clear that the Jews in the capital tolerated St. James and his party, even though their toleration was tempered with contempt and dislike: after all, they seem to have argued, though these people have foolish ideas as to the identity of the Messiah, they nevertheless observe the Law, and are otherwise orthodox. But for St. Paul nothing was bad enough—he was a renegade and a traitor, and as such worthy of death.

Moreover, this Jewish hatred of St. Paul was especially stimulated by a fact which also was prominent in producing the antinomian extremists, and later on in introducing other problems into the life of the Gentile Churches. This fact was the existence in the Graeco-Roman world of the class of “God-fearers” whom the synagogue had attracted towards itself by much careful preparation, and hoped ultimately to convert into proselytes. This class is often mentioned in the NewTestament,and a more accurate understanding of its position is one of the great steps forward which have been made of recent years in the interpretation of early Christianity. The source of most statements on the subject was formerly the essay of Deyling, De Σεβομένοις τὸν Θεόν in his Observationes Sacrae, ii. pp. 462–69, in which he identified them with the “proselytes of the gate” mentioned in the Talmud. On this view the theory was based that the Jews recognized two sorts of proselytes—those “of the gate” and those “of righteousness,” of whom the former stood in a less close relation to the Jews than the latter—and that “God-fearers” is a synonym for the former. This view will be found expressed at length in the first edition of Schürer’s Geschichte des jüdischen Volkes in Zeitalter Jesu Christi, and it was long the dominant opinion. But, in the light of further study, in his third, and still more completely in his fourth edition (1909), Schürer completely gave up this theory, and showed convincingly that “proselyte of the gate” is a purely mediaeval term, of which the meaning is doubtful, but probably is “Gentiles living among Jews,” and that the God-fearers were not proselytes at all. His conclusion is based on inscriptions, both in Latin and Greek and is that “Almost everywhere in the Diaspora there was a fringe of ‘God-fearing’ heathen round the Jewish Church. They adopted the Jewish form of worship, with its monotheism and absence of images, and frequented the Jewish synagogues, but confined themselves with regard to the ceremonial law to certain cardinal points, and thus could not be reckoned as actually belonging to the Jewish Church.… When we ask which points of the ceremonial law were thus observed, the clearest indications are afforded by Josephus, Juvenal, and Tertullian. These three all agree that it was especially the observance of the Sabbath, and the food law which most generally obtained in these circles.… Their adherence would vary in degree, and it is improbable that there were fixed limits.” To this statement of Schürer’s no exception can be taken on the ground of what it says, but it ought to be added that the evidence of Philo shows that there were Jews who regarded the Law as merely allegorical, and that the Sibylline Oracles (see pp. 25 f. and 56 f.) show that there were also circles among the God-fearers in which the food law and even the sabbath were disregarded, and that monotheism and the moral law alone were observed. This would no doubt vary in different places, and would be influenced by the type of Judaism which was dominant: in places, for instance, where the extreme allegorizing party had representatives, and the Law was explained in the manner which the Epistle of Barnabas tried to popularize among Christians, the observance of the ceremonial law would naturally sink into the background among the God-fearers.

It does not need the testimony of Juvenal to convince us that it was from this circle of God-fearers that the Jews drew their proselytes, and the Acts give us superabundant proof that it was in the same circle that St. Paul met with the greatest success in making converts; it is therefore easy to understand the bitterness of Jewish feeling against St. Paul and other Christians of the Antiochene school, for it is not in human nature to regard with equanimity the sight of heretics successfully reaping a harvest which the orthodox had sown, had seen grow up, and had expected to gather, and the rapid passing over of God-fearers to the ranks of the Christians was in the eyes of the orthodox Jews a triumph for heresy as bitter as it was unexpected. In this way the existence of the God-fearers helps to explain the increased hatred of the Jews; it also explains the existence of the extreme antinomian party of which Acts tells us nothing, but the Epistles more than a little. For the God-fearers brought Christianity into the troubled world of thought of the Roman Empire. They represent to a large extent the general attitude of the “religious man” of the first century. He was, as a rule, dissatisfied with the ancestral forms of culture, as well as with the traditional theology. It was an age of religious unrest and theological inquiry. The propaganda of Judaism and Christianity were only two of the many efforts which were being made to answer this intellectual curiosity and to satisfy the yearnings of unhappy souls, and, on the whole, we can distinguish two main currents to one or the other of which these efforts usually belonged. Those whose interest was primarily intellectual, or, at all events, demanded a theology which was intellectually acceptable, were strongly influenced by the metaphysics of the Neo-Platonists, and the ethics of the Stoics. In them they seemed to find a reasonable explanation of the universe, a “weltanschauung” which corresponded to facts, and a rule of life which satisfied the conscience and seemed to offer a lasting happiness. On the other hand, those whose interest was chiefly religious, in the narrower sense of the word, were attracted by the Oriental “Mystery Religions,” so diverse in detail, yet so similar in essentials, which held out the offer of happiness in this world and salvation in the next to all who by initiation into their sacraments joined in the risen life of a redeemer God, and thus secured a knowledge of the great secret, which would guard the traveller when he passed hence through the gate of death on his long and dangerous journey, and bring him safely to the eternal life which he desired. Finally, we can see in such a man as Plutarch the curious combination of these two currents which fully accepted all these mysteries, but by a vigorous use of allegory and symbolism brought them in agreement with philosophy, and felt that whether the God whom they celebrated was called Isis, or Attis, or Mithras, or any other name, it was, nevertheless, the divine Logos, “the Word,” who was working in them all—the Logos who is the source of all life and all wisdom, though he be called by different names in different lands.

Plutarch was, we may be sure, no exception, save in so far as he was of exceptional ability, and doubtless there were many in the Roman Empire who, in some such way as he had done, united the practice of the mysteries with the philosophy of the Stoics or Platonists. But in the lower and less educated classes this syncretism must have been less common. Men felt that spiritually they were ill, and needed a physician, nor were they able to see, as Plutarch did, that all the physicians offered the same prescription, though they varied the exact form of its composition. No doubt, they had their own syncretism, but it was not the philosophic syncretism of Plutarch, but rather a tendency to modify the practices of the various cults, to borrow attractive features from others, and to give up objectionable even though characteristic customs. This influence of the Oriental “Mystery Religions” was increased by the fact that not only the Jews, but every Eastern nation had its “Diaspora” in the Roman Empire. We are apt to overlook this because, for obvious reasons, it is the Jewish Diaspora of which we hear most, but after all it was the Orontes, not the Jordan, which seemed to the Roman eye to be flowing into the Tiber, and we ought to remember that just as there was a Jewish Diaspora, with its proselytizing propaganda, there were Egyptian, Syrian, Persian, and other Diasporae, in which the various cults were taught, though each probably with more or less pronounced variations from the native type.

Each Diaspora of this kind was a centre for a wider circle, corresponding to the God-fearers of the Jewish community, composed of those who were interested in what they saw and heard, but were only prepared to accept the cult partially, eclectically, and in combination with features taken from other cults, of which they had obtained knowledge in a similar way. An excellent example of this type of syncretism is to be found in the cults found in Asia Minor, which combined Judaism with the worship of Zeus Hypsistos and of Attis the Phrygian Redeemer-God whose worship united an originally local cult with that of the Magna Mater and her mysteries. But it is safe to assume that for one form of eclecticism which endured long enough to crystallize into a definite shape there must have been many which were purely ephemeral, or, even if they lasted longer, failed to be preserved in any inscription or literary reference which has survived.

It is easy to see how these influences must have worked in the case of those who were brought into contact with Judaism as well as with the “Mystery Religions.” In the Jewish theology they found a monotheism which satisfied their intellects. The Messianic expectation presented no difficulties to those who, since the time of Augustus, had learnt to believe that the world-cycle was approaching its completion, and that a Deliverer would soon appear to lead mankind into the glories of the golden age of which the poets sang and the Sibyl prophesied.In the deeply ethical and spiritual austerity of the synagogue they found a satisfaction and a stimulus for their religious life.Some of them also appreciated the moral and practical value of the observance of the sabbath, and felt that there was an element of truth in the distinction between clean and unclean foods—a distinction which is, indeed, more obviously valuable in hot climates than in Northern Europe. But the rest of the ceremonial law, circumcision, and the national pretensions of the Jew to the especial favour of God, had no value in their eyes, so that they either rejected them, or accepted the position which changed their meaning by allegory and symbolism. But they were very unlikely to stop at this point; the metaphysics of the Neo-Platonists, and the ethics of the Stoics agreed with and supplemented the teaching of the Old Testament and the synagogue, while the “Mystery Religions,” with their elaborate and impressive ritual, made a reiterated appeal to the sympathy of those who found in the stern and cold worship of the Jews, bracing though its atmosphere might be, insufficient scope for the permanent satisfaction of an aesthetic and mystical imagination.

Such must have been the result of the contact of this type of eclectic mind with Judaism—a result which doubtless caused the synagogue to ponder long and anxiously over the problem of such God-fearers—but what kind of impression must have been made by Christianity on those who belonged to such a circle?

They must have been but little attracted by Christianity of the original Jerusalem school, except in so far as it accentuated the doctrine of the Messiah and His kingdom, and introduced an element of superior certainty by being able to give the name of the Messiah, nor, as a matter of fact, is there any evidence to show that the Jerusalem school ever obtained any very important or permanent hold in the Graeco-Roman world. It was very different with the Antiochene movement. In this the eclectic Gentile found all the features which he most admired in Judaism, set free from the ceremonial law and from the custom of circumcision which had repelled him. But he saw more than this: in the teaching of St. Paul as to the meaning of the death of Jesus he saw every reason for equating the Lord with the Redeemer-God of the Mystery Religions, with the advantage that this Redeemer possessed an historic character which could scarcely be claimed for Attis or Mithras. Similarly in Baptism and in the Eucharist he found “mysteries” which could immediately be equated with the other “mysteries,” offering eternal life to those who partook of them. In other words, many of the Greeks must have regarded Christianity as a superior form of “Mystery Religion.” The importance of this fact is not easily exhausted; it will be found to be one of the most important elements in the situation at Corinth, which led to the Epistles, and in the wider sphere of the history of doctrine it can scarcely be over-estimated. It is, for instance, of enormous importance in considering the course of the development of Christian doctrine from the belief that the Messiah was Jesus, and that He was speedily coming to set up the Kingdom of God, to the creed in which the original meaning of the word “Messiah,” or “Christ,” was almost wholly forgotten, Jesus was regarded as a Redeemer-God, and the Sacraments became the real centre of Christianity. That we find one type dominant in Jerusalem in the middle of the first century, and the other type dominant in Rome in the middle of the second seems incontrovertible, but the exact course of the development is outside the present purpose: it is sufficient to call attention to the fact that the existence of the eclectic type of God-fearer is an extremely important factor in the situation.

Or, again, the existence of this type is of enormous importance in considering the origin of Gnosticism. Formerly it was the custom to regard Gnosticism as a development from Christianity under the influence of Greek thought. We have now, however, learnt that it was in basis neither Christian nor Hellenic, but eclectic and Oriental. It comprised an almost infinite variety of sects which combined parts of various Oriental religions, including Christianity, and united the fragments by the application of a more or less intelligent application of philosophy. It will be seen that such a movement was independent of Christianity, and this point is of importance because it used to be argued that documents—such as some of the Pauline Epistles—which imply a point of view similar to that of the Gnostics, must be late, because time must be allowed for the development of Gnostic “heresy” from Christianity. The argument is unsound: Gnostic ideas are earlier, not later, than Christianity, and to prove that any given document is engaged in controverting a Gnostic point of view, shows merely that it was addressed to the eclectic circles described in the preceding paragraphs—it has no necessary bearing on the question of date.

Putting aside, however, these larger questions it is clear that the attitude which regarded Christianity as a “Mystery Religion” inevitably must have led men to exaggerate and misinterpret the Pauline doctrine of freedom, to regard the cleansing from sin gained by the Christian as giving him permission henceforth to do as he liked without incurring guilt, and to consider Baptism as an opus operatum which secured his admission into the Kingdom apart from the character of his future conduct. Thus there was from the beginning an antinomian and unethical spirit which offered the most difficult problem for St. Paul and other Christians, who would naturally reject with horror this licentious liberty of conduct so different from the ethical standards of Judaism, and we can imagine—though I do not know that there is any extant example of it—that it was often flung by the Jewish Christians in the face of the Pauline school of Christianity as the natural result of its mistaken freedom.

Such are the main characteristics of the background which we must expect to find in the Pauline Epistles. The chief feature is the large confused mass of unsatisfied seekers after religious truth, who were testing all the various offers made to them by the preachers of diverse cults, and were inclined to combine select features of them all in a strange medley of ritual and doctrine. And emerging from the struggle fully to convert this class—a struggle in which convinced Jews, Christians of Jerusalem, Christians of Antioch, worshippers of Isis and other Oriental cults, magicians, astrologers, and wizards jostled each other in a theological confusion to which no parallel can be found—we can distinguish the endeavours of St. Paul to preach freedom without libertinism, and his constant efforts against the hatred of the Jew for a renegade Rabbi, against the scarcely less fierce opposition of Christians who held firmly to the principles of the stiffly conservative party at Jerusalem, and against the even more serious danger of a tendency to misunderstand his teaching of Christian freedom, to misinterpret the nature of Christianity, and to regard him as a narrow-minded preacher, who had little appreciation of the mysteries of the spirit, and was scarcely better than the Jews whom he had deserted.

It will be one of the tasks of the following chapters to trace more fully the details of this background in connection with each of the Epistles, so as to render it possible for them to be read with a somewhat better appreciation of the circumstances which caused them to be written.

Literature.—Besides the references which have been for special points, the following books will be found generally valuable: E. Schürer, Geschichte des Jüdischen Volkes (ed. 4), vol. iii., Das Judentum in der Zerstreuung und die jüdische Literatur. W. Bousset, Die Religion des Judentums (ed. 2). W. M. Ramsay, The Church in the Roman Empire, and St. Paul the Traveller and Roman Citizen. R. Deitzenstein, Die hellenistischen Mysterienreligionen, ihre Grundgedanken und Wirkungen. J. Harrison, Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion, chap. x., The Orphic Mysteries. L. R. Farnell, Cults of the Greek States, vol. v. chap. v. Dionysiac ritual. T. R. Glover, The Conflict of Religions in the Early Roman Empire. F. Cumont, Les Religions orientales dans le Paganisme romain. 

¹ This fact is to be found most clearly expressed in Professor Burkitt’s The Earliest Sources for the Life of Jesus, p. 66.

² The use of this technical term of the grammarians may be excused by the difficulty of finding any expression to convey the required meaning. The point is that the kingdom was not yet come, and therefore there could not yet be any king; but it was quite certain that it was coming, and that Jesus would be the King. Thus Christians lived in a constant anticipation of the future, a “prolepsis” of things to come.

¹ The point is, however, not quite certain; see H. Gressmann, Der Ursprung der Israelitisch-jüdischen Eschatologie. References to other books on the subject are given by Bousset, Religion des Fudentums, p. 266. The most important authority for the view taken above is Dalman, Der leidende und sterbende Messias der Synagoge.

¹ It seems unnecessary to discuss Harnack’s suggestion that these two accounts may be “doublet” narratives of one event. Possibly he is right; (see his Apostelgeschichte, chap. 5), but it is also possible that there were two attempts by the Jews to suppress Christianity. What is here important is merely the fact that the attempts (or attempt) were unsuccessful and not vigorously carried out.

² Jewish “Church” is of course an anachronism, but it is too convenient a phrase to abandon.

³ Cf. Acts 23:6. The Pharisees immediately accepted St. Paul’s statement that “for ‘Hope’ and a resurrection of the dead am I being judged.”

¹Just as a Jew of to-day can call himself an Englishman or a German, a Jew of the first century could call himself a Parthian, a Mede, or even a Roman—if he were fortunate enough to possess the right to do so, as St. Paul did.

² This statement belongs to the oldest stratum of the Gospels. It is found in Matthew 19:28 and Luke 22:30, and probably no one would dispute that it belongs to Q.

¹ Harnack thinks that they were in some sense rivals of the Twelve. The evidence for this view is small, but if one does not regard rivals as implying an unfriendly attitude there is something to be said for it (see Harnack’s Kirchenverfassung, p. 23). The whole question of “The Seven” is obscure, and we have no sufficient evidence to help much in dealing with it. The point is that we need some explanation of the fact that those who were appointed in order to relieve the Twelve from the practical and charitable side of their work, and to set them free to preach, nevertheless only appear in the capacity of missionaries and controversalists, and as such seem to have attracted more attention than the “Twelve.”

¹ If tradition may be trusted, St. Peter went to Rome and St. John to Ephesus. But, of course, there is considerable doubt as to this. The evidence in neither case is quite convincing, and in the case of St. John there is some evidence (that of Papias—but in a doubtful passage) that he was put to death by the Jews. See Schwartz, Über den Tod der Söhne Zebedaci, and Sanday, The Criticism of the Fourth Gospel, pp. 103 ff.

² Tradition says that it took place twelve years after the Ascension, i.e. c. 42. It may have been connected with the persecution of the Christians under Herod; but I think it was more probably the result of the absence of the Twelve.

³ See Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. 2.23, for a long account of St. James, taken from Hegesippus.

¹ Acts 10. For the importance of the God-fearers, see pp. 37 ff.

¹ This is not stated in Acts, but is clear from the context of the events implied by the Council, see Acts 15:1-41.

¹ The words of Ananias, are important enough to be quoted:—… δυνάμενον δʼ αὐτὸν, ἔφη, καὶ χωρὶς τῆς περιτομῆς τὸ θείον σέβειν, εἴγε πάντως κέκρικε ξηλοῦν τὰ πάτρια τῶν Ἰουδαίων τοῦτʼ εῖναι κυριώτερον τοῦ περιτέμνεσθαι …Ultimately, however, Izates listened to his other Jewish adviser, Eleazar, and was circumcised. See Josephus, Antiquit., 20. 2. 4.

² Ed. Mangey, 1 450, and Cohn and Wendland, 2 p. 285 ff.

¹ The Oracula Sibyllina are a curious collection of Jewish and Christian verse, written in a bad imitation of Homeric Greek, giving a series of Apocalyptic prophecies. They vary in date from the first century before Christ to the third century after Christ. The best text is that of Geffcken in the Berlin edition of Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller der ersten drei Jahrhunderte. The best introductions are probably those of Alexandre (the first edition, of 1841–56, not the second of 1869, which is less valuable), and of Geffcken, Komposition und Enstehungszeit der Oracula Sibyllina in Texte und Untersuchungen, 23.1; but sufficient for all except special purposes will be found in Schürer’s Geschichte des Jüdischen Volkes, ed. 4, 3. pp. 555–592. This is one of the places in which Schürer’s fourth edition is considerably fuller than the third. In the fourth book the Sibyl is supposed to be speaking to the first generation of mankind, and gives a prophetic sketch of the successive dominations of Assyrians, Medes, Persians, Greeks, and Romans, up to the flight of Nero and the destruction of Jerusalem, and apparently mentioning the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 a.d. It then goes on to foretell that Nero will return from the East, and history will close with the judgment, resurrection, and establishment of the righteous. It is clear from this summary that the book was written during the time after the fall of Nero when his death was still doubted and his return expected at the head of a Parthian army. This might be at any time after the death of Nero, and before about 90 a.d. (the last false Nero appeared in 88), but the reference to Vesuvius narrows the range of possible dates to 79–90 a.d.

¹ The important passages are Or. Sib., 4.24–33 and 162–170. The text is quoted on pp. 56–7.

¹[The probable range of date is about 90-135.]

² Cf. Barn. 9:4, περιτομὴν γὰρ εἴρηκεν οὐ σαρκὸς γενηθῆναι· ἀλλὰ παρέβησαν, ὅτι ἄγγελος πονηρὸς ἐσόφιζεν αὐτούς.

¹ For this we have the evidence of Josephus, who narrates that Queen Helena, the mother of Izates, was in Jerusalem at the time, and endeavoured to relieve the distress by distributing corn and figs among the poor, and that Izates himself sent money to Jerusalem for the same purpose; see Josephus, Antiquit. 20. 2. 5.

¹ Silas ultimately joined the Antiochene mission, but Judas returned to Jerusalem, if the Bezan text of Acts 15:34 be trusted.

² In speaking in this way I am assuming that the Acts were probably written by St. Luke the companion of St. Paul. In so doing I am certainly open to the accusation of arguing in a circle. But it is unfortunately almost always necessary to start by assuming something. In this case my position is that if we assume the Lucan authorship there is nothing in Acts 15:1-41 which he would not have known on good authority, and that if we turn round and treat the Lucan authorship as the question to be discussed, there is also nothing in Acts 15:1-41 which he could not have written,—though this is disputed by many critics.

¹ So Sanday, The Apostolic Decree (published by Deichert in Leipzig, 1908), p. 15 f. The objection to this view is that it makes it an insoluble mystery why St. Luke writing twenty years later, should have made such a “dead letter” (to use Dr. Sanday’s expression) as the decrees had become, into a document of such importance. Surely St. Luke was too good a historian to make so wrong a selection of facts.

² So Lightfoot, Galatians, p. 127. There is less to be said against this view, but it is improbable because—on the theory that the decree was a compromise— it was not a question of geography but of nationality, and was just the same in Galatia as it was in Syria. Besides, on the South Galatian hypothesis (Chap. V.) the decrees were actually delivered to the Galatians (Acts 16:4). A third view is that the decrees are genuine but antedated by St. Luke. This view was formerly held by Harnack, and is to be found (in various forms) in Weizsacker, Das apostolische Zeitalter, p. 180f.; McGiffert, Apostolic Age, p. 213f.; and v. Dobschütz, Die urchristlichen Gemeinden, p. 274.

¹ G. Resch, Das Aposteldecret, and Harnack’s chapter on Das Aposteldecret in his Die Apostelgeschichte, pp. 188–198.

¹ It is doubtful whether “εἰδωλόθυτα, αἷμα, and πορνεία” means “idolatry, murder, and fornication,” or “sacrificial food, sacrificial blood, and fornication in connection with worship”; but in neither case does it imply a compromise.

¹ They are referred to in the following places:—as “φοβούμενοι τὸν Θεόν,” in Acts 10:2, Acts 10:22, Acts 10:35, Acts 13:16, Acts 13:26 as “σεβόμενοι τὸν Θεόν,” Acts 16:14; Acts 18:17; as “σεβόμενοι” in Acts 13:50; Acts 17:4, Acts 17:17; and as “σεβόμενοι προσήλυτοι” in Acts 13:43. Cf. Josephus, Antiquit., 14. 7. 2.

¹ Cf. especially, C.I.L., 5 1, n. 88. Ephem.Epigr., iv. 1881, p. 291, n. 838; C.I.L., 6. n. 29759, 29760, and 29763. Deissmann, Licht vom Osten, 326 f. Schürer, Die Juden im bosporanischen Reiche und die Genossenschaften der σεβόμενοι Θεὸν ὃψιστον ebendaselbst (Sitzungsberichte der königl. preussischen Academic zu Berlin, 1897); and F. Cumont, Hypsistos in the Supplément to the Revue de l’instruction publique en Belgique, 1897.

² The passages indicated are the following: Jos., Contra Ap., 2. 39: “καὶ πλήθεσιν ἤὀη πολὺς ζηλος γέγονεν ἐκ μακροῦ τῆς ἡμετέρας εὐσεβείας, οὐδʼ ἔστιν οὐ πόλις Ἑλλήνων οὐδητισοῦν οὐδὲ Βάρβαρον οὐδὲ ἓν ἔθνος, ἔνθα μὴ τὸ τῆς ἑΒδομάδος, ἣν ἀργοῦμεν ήμεῖς τὸ ἔΘος [δέ] διεπεφοίτηκεν καὶ αἱ νηστεῖαι καὶ λύχνων ἀνακαύσεις καὶ πολλὰ τῶν εἰς βρῶσιν ἢμῖν οὐ νενομισμένων παρατετήρηται.” Tertullian, Ad Nationes, i. 13: “Vos certe estis, qui etiam in laterculum septem dicrum solem recepistis, et ex diebus ipso priorem praelegistis, quo die lavacrum subtrahatis aut in vesperam differatis, aut otium et prandium curetis. Quod quidem facitis exorbitantes et ipsi a vestris ad alienas religiones. Judaei enim festi sabbata et coena pura et Judaici ritus lucernarum et jejunia cum azymis et orationes litorales, quae utique aliena sunt a diis vestris.” Juvenal, Sat., xiv. :96–106—

“Quidam sortiti metuentem sabbata patrem nil praeter nubes et caeli numen adorant, nec distare putant humana carne suillam qua pater abstinuit; mox et praeputia ponunt.

Romanas autem soliti contemnere leges Judaicum ediscunt et servant ac metuunt jus tradidit arcano quodcunque volumine Moses: non monstrare vias eadem nisi sacra colenti quaesitum and fontem solos deducere verpos.

Sed pater in causa cui septima cuique fuit lux ignava et partem vitae non attigit ullam.”

¹ Geschichte des jüdischen Volkes, ed. 4, 3.173 ff.

¹ See F. Cumont’s Hypsistos, in the Supplément to the Revue de l’instruction publique en Belgique. 1897.

²For a further description reference may be made to F. Cumont’s Les Religions orientales dans le Paganisme romain. This book affords an indispensable introduction to the study of the Oriental side of the background of early Christianity. It has, also, the advantage of being more easily intelligible and more interesting than most works of fiction.

¹ It is remarkable that the title of Σωτήρ was actually given to Augustus; Cf. Deissman, Licht vom Ocsten, p. 248.

² Cf. Bousset, Religion des Fudentums, p. 576; and Wendland, Die Hellenistisch-Römische Kultur, pp. 87 f.

³ That this was the strength of Judaism has often been unfairly overlooked by Christian writers, who have judged Judaism by the polemics of early Christian literature and the subtleties of the Talmud, rather than by the ethical spirit of, for instance, the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, or the many noble sayings of Philo.

¹ See especially Bousset’s Hauptprobleme der Gnosis.