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The (Tobit, Judith, 1 & 2 , , , Baruch, and additions to & )

Caravaggio. Saint Writing (oil on canvas), c. 1605-1606. , .

with

Dr. Bill Creasy

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2 The Deuterocanonical Books (Tobit, Judith, 1 & , Wisdom, Sirach, Baruch, and & Esther)

Traditional Authors: Various

Traditional Dates Written: c. 250-100 B.C.

Traditional Periods Covered: c. 250-100 B.C.

Introduction

The Deuterocanonical books are those books of Scripture written (for the most part) in Greek that are accepted by Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches as inspired, but they are not among the 39 books written in Hebrew accepted by , nor are they accepted as Scripture by most Protestant denominations. The deuterocanonical books include:

• Tobit • Judith • • 2 Maccabees • Wisdom (also called the Wisdom of ) • Sirach (also called Ecclesiasticus) • Baruch, (including the Letter of ) • Additions to Daniel o “ of ” and the “Song of the Three Holy Children” ( Daniel 3: 24- 90) o Suzanna (Daniel 13) o (Daniel 14) • Additions to Esther

Eastern Orthodox churches also include: , , 1 , Odes (which include the “”) and . Thus, in the Jewish and Protestant “” there are 39 books; in the Roman Catholic, 46 books; and in the Eastern Orthodox, 51 books.

The word “deuterocanonical” means “belonging to the second ,” the “protocanonical” books being the 39 books written in Hebrew and accepted by Jews and Protestants. Protestants often follow , calling the Deuterocanonical books “” [Greek = ajpovkrufoß], which means “hidden” or “obscure.”

This all sounds rather complicated, and it is. To understand the issues involved, we need to explore how the canon of Scripture—those books considered to be the inspired word of and normative for their faith communities—came to be selected in the first place. It’s a lengthy process, but one that we need to understand if we are to be “educated readers of Scripture.”

3 The Idea of a “Canon”

The word “canon” derives from the Greek canovn, a “measuring rod” or “standard,” kah-nay’], meaning “reed.” A “canon” is a set of] הֶנָק perhaps related to the Hebrew standards considered to be cultural norms, the “rules,” if you will, by which a society of any type—civil, professional, religious—functions. The formation of a society’s “canon”—be it oral or written—is a cultural phenomenon, a natural societal process.

For much of human history, a group’s values, ideals and normative behavior were defined, expressed and passed on from one generation to the next through story, ritual and behaviors that were either lauded or condemned. Over time, such stories, rituals and behaviors took on form and shape, gradually becoming a group’s moral, ethical and religious foundation, a foundation that expressed the group’s core values and norms, a foundation upon which a society was built. Importantly, all such foundational values and norms in pre-literate societies were defined, expressed and passed on orally, by word of mouth, for written language did not yet exist for them.

The ancient Greek culture is a perfect example, and Homer’s Iliad serves as its best paradigm. The Iliad tells the tale of the Trojan War, a ten-year siege of the city of Troy by the Achaeans, a coalition of Greek states, led by Agamemnon, king of Mycenae. Troy sat on the entrance to the Dardanelles, a narrow, 38-mile-long strait that connects the Sea of Marmara with the Aegean and Mediterranean Seas to the south, allowing passage north to the Black Sea via the Bosphorus: control the Dardanelles, and you control the power and wealth of the ancient Mediterranean world. Controlling that wealth is the political reason for the Trojan War; getting back “Helen of Troy”—wife of (Agamemnon’s brother)—who had run off with Paris, the prince of Troy and youngest son of Priam, king of Troy is the poetical reason for the Trojan War: controlling wealth and regaining honor; the basic ingredients of an epic drama!

Traditionally, the Trojan War took place 1175-1184 B.C., consistent with the burning of Troy VII, at the archaeological site at Hisarlik in western Turkey. For many centuries readers assumed that Homer wrote the Iliad shortly after the Trojan War, but in fact, as Harvard classics scholar Milman Parry demonstrated in the 1920s, the poem was first composed and performed orally until the 8th-century B.C., when it was finally written down. The Iliad’s structure; its use of stock epithets (“swift runner, Achilles,” even when he is sitting still; “laughter-loving” Aphrodite, even when she’s painfully wounded!); reiteration of words, phrases and verses; and the rigid use of its dactylic hexameter rhythmic scheme are all characteristic of oral poetry in a preliterate society.

Yet, Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey served as the most influential “canon” for educated Greek speakers of the Hellenistic world, along with the works of Euripides, Menander and Demosthenes; of Hesiod, Pindar, Sappho; Aeschylus, Sophocles, Aristophanes; Herodotus, Thucydides and Aesop, all serving as prime examples of the genres and basic modes of cultural life: , epic, drama, poetry and history. It was not a religious canon, to be sure, but the works of these authors expressed (and one might even say, “enshrined”) the fundamental values of Greek society and culture.

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Dr. C. teaches Homer’s The Iliad on site, overlooking the “windy plains of Troy.” The Dardanelles are in the background.

Photography by Ana Maria Vargas

Canons are common in every art and discipline. Today, for example, we have inherited the canon of Western concert hall music, enshrining Bach, Beethoven, Brahms (the “killer Bs”); Haydn, Handel, Chopin; Mahler, Mendelsohn, Mozart; Tchaikovsky, Verdi, Wagner. Go to any concert hall and you will hear one or more of these composers performed; rarely will you hear 20th-century composers like del Tredici, George Crumb, George Rochberg or Peter Maxwell Davies. The canon of Western concert hall music—for the most part—has been closed for more than a century: a modern-day composer needs a bazooka to break into it!

Literary canons offer another example. For generations Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton; Donne, Herbert, Vaughn; Byron, Shelley, Keats; Dickens, Trollope, Hardy were staples of university English literature programs: every undergraduate and graduate student studied them. Not so, today. Many of the formerly required courses that included writers from the established canon have been replaced by “Gender, Ethnicity, Disability and Sexuality Studies”; “Imperial, Transnational and Postcolonial Studies”; “Gender Studies” and “Interdisciplinary Studies.” There are plenty of excellent writers working in these categories who are well worth reading, I’m sure, but should they replace Chaucer, Shakespeare and Milton? It’s inconceivable (to me, at least) that one could graduate as an English major and not take a single course on Chaucer, Shakespeare or Milton! But then again, maybe I’m just a cranky, old white guy.

5 A canon—be it in music, literature or Scripture—does not come into being because it’s declared from on high. No one can declare a work canonical if it has no canonical pedigree; one can only affirm a work’s canonical status because it has already been accepted as canonical by consensus. That is the flaw in requiring such “politically correct” literature courses as those mentioned above: they were placed in the curriculum by political pressure and by the “powers that be,” and they will surely meet an early demise, unless they make it into the literary canon by merit and by the consensus of educated readers over time. Likewise, a canon like that of Western concert hall music may well accept new composers and new compositions, if time and the consensus of educated listeners deem them worthy.

The point is this: canons emerge, they are not declared; no canon is forever fixed; and all canons are in constant flux, though the pace may be glacial.

The Development of Writing

As pre-literate societies developed and became more complex, memory no longer served adequately for record keeping and for managing those societies: something more stable and permanent was needed. Evidence suggests that writing (in the West) developed first in Mesopotamia in cuneiform script around 3100 B.C. and simultaneously in in hieroglyphs. In Sumer (Mesopotamia), writing employed a round-shaped stylus impressed into soft clay at different angles; in Egypt, writing combined logographic, syllabic and alphabetic images written with a reed pen on papyrus or inscribed in stone.

Cuneiform Tablet Collection #13 (2039 B.C.) Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. [The tablet lists wages paid to 656 day laborers by Amar-Suen, third king of the Ur III dynasty.]

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False door in the tomb of Mereruka (Chamber A8), vizier (and son-in-law) to Teti, first pharaoh of the Old Kingdom’s 6th dynasty (2345-2333 B.C.). Saqqara, Egypt.

Photography by Ana Maria Vargas

As we see in the Amar-Suen tablet, writing initially consisted of lists, record keeping of various royal business transactions. In the case of Mereruka’s tomb, the false door of Chamber A8 is for Mereruka’s ka (or “”) to enter. The upper horizontal hieroglyphs are magical incantations inviting Mereruka’s ka into the ; the lower vertical hieroglyphs name Teti, the pharaoh whom Mereruka served, along with Teti’s various titles.

The idea of writing—of expressing transient oral speech in a permanent fixed form— seemed miraculous to the ancients; indeed, writing was viewed as a gift from the . In Egypt, the god Thoth was scribe to the gods, and the Egyptians credited him with the invention of writing and of giving his divine gift to humans. Interestingly, the associated the Egyptian god Thoth with Hermes, the Greek messenger of the gods who moved freely between the gods and men, the one who brought divine words to humans. Recall that on their first missionary journey (A.D. 46-48), St. Paul and St. Barnabas visited Lystra, and when Paul healed a crippled man there, the people proclaimed Barnabas as Zeus, and Paul as Hermes, “because [St. Paul] was the chief speaker” (Acts 14: 11-13)—the one who brought the “word.”

7 This divine gift of writing was the purview of professional scribes, men trained in this esoteric art. Like skills in many of the later trade guilds, scribal skill was passed on from father to son, and because scribes worked in the upper echelons of government, they quickly became a privileged class. The scribe served at the pleasure of the king or one of his ambassadors, governors or generals, and because the scribe often transmitted messages and records of a sensitive or secretive nature, he necessarily became a trusted confidant in the royal palace. In an agrarian society where 95% or more of the population was illiterate (including those who governed), the scribes quickly became an elite, privileged class. It is from within this scribal class that the literature of the Near East originates.

The Seated Scribe (limestone and quartz), c. 2600 B.C. [4th Egyptian Dynasty (c. 2613-2494 B.C.)]. Museum, Paris.

8 But the ability of scribes to write letters, administrative texts, inventories, tax receipts and so on does not result in their ability to write literature, nor does the ability simply to write down oral folk tales, legends and myths give them wider distribution; in fact, in a pre- literate society, writing down such tales limits their distribution, restricting their access to a privileged class who could read.

In the ancient Near East, literacy among the culturally elite spread rapidly from government to religion. In the temples of Mesopotamia and Egypt, temple liturgies, oracles and sayings were written down to preserve their exact wording, and hence, their efficacy. As with written literature, writing down religious texts restricted access to them, as well, making such texts available only to the properly initiated, while creating an aura of sanctity around them.

Writing literature enabled the creation of sacred texts. Only a literate, educated class has the time and ability to probe the great questions of life: the origin of the cosmos, the creation of humanity, the nature of evil, and so on. Such concerns of the human condition characterize most sacred texts, including those of the Hebrew Scriptures: the early stories in Genesis, for example, may appear simple, but they are highly intellectual and exceedingly complex; the stories in the “historical” books examine the meaning of history and the destiny of , and the surrounding nations; the probe the deepest longings of the human heart; and the voice the concerns of Israel’s God to a stubborn and intransient people. The stories of , , , , and David are stories that can only be told through writing, through a literature capable of sustained character development, intricate plotting, complex structuring and subtle nuance.

Such written works, elevated to the position of sacred literature, were then collected and catalogued by the elite class of scribes and made available to the people through oral recitation of a controlled text. Consider the early version of Deuteronomy, found in the temple in 622 B.C. by the Hilkiah and given to Shaphan the scribe. We read:

“The high priest Hilkiah informed the scribe Shaphan, ‘I have found the book of the law in the temple of the Lord.’ Hilkiah gave the book to Shaphan, who read it. Then the scribe Shaphan went to the king and reported . . . ‘Hilkiah the priest has given me a book,’ and then Shaphan read it in the presence of the king. When the king heard the words of the book of the law, he tore his garments. The king then issued this command . . . ‘Go, consult the Lord for me, for the people, and for all Judah, about the words of this book that has been found, for the rage of the Lord has been set furiously ablaze against us, because our ancestors did not obey the words of this book, nor do what is written for us.”

(2 Kings 22: 4-13)

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Leonaert Bramer. The Scribe Shaphan Reading the Book of the Law to King Josiah (oil on copper), 1622. Private Collection.

As a result:

“The king then had all the elders of Judah and of summoned before him. The king went up to the house of the Lord with all the people of Judah and all the inhabitants of Jerusalem: , prophets, and all the people, great and small. He read aloud to them all the words of the book of the that had been found in the house of the Lord. The king stood by the column and made a covenant in the presence of the Lord to follow the Lord and to observe his commandments, statutes, and decrees with his whole heart and soul, and to re-establish the words of the covenant written in this book. And all the people stood by the covenant.”

(2 Kings 23: 1-3)

By 622 B.C.—the 18th year of Josiah’s reign—Assyrian power was in rapid decline ( defeated ten years later at the Battle of Nineveh, 612 B.C.). Meanwhile, an independence movement was gaining strength at court in Jerusalem, a movement that expressed itself as a covenant relationship with YHWH as the sole sovereign of Israel.

The covenant was patterned after Assyrian suzerain/vassal treaties—it is, in fact, strikingly similar to the “Vassal Treaties of Esarhaddon”—and it took the form of an address by Moses to the Israelites, an early form of Deuteronomy 5-26, the substance of what Josiah reads to the people in 2 Kings 23: 1-3. In suzerain/vassal treaties the Great

10 King has obligations to vassal kings, and vassal kings owe due deference and obedience to the Great King.

Only 17 years after Josiah’s reforms, however—in 605 B.C.—Judah and Jerusalem fell to the Babylon Empire, and the people of Judah were taken captive to Babylon. The (605–539 B.C.) prompted much soul-searching. How could this possibly have happened? The obvious answer was that the Israelites violated their covenant with God, and God punished them for doing so: 1 Chronicles 9: 1b states plainly: “Now Judah had been exiled to Babylon because of its treachery.”

James Tissot. The Flight of the Prisoners (gouache on board), c. 1896-1902. Jewish Museum, New York.

But when , king of Persia, defeated Babylon in 539 B.C. and allowed the Jews to return home and rebuild, Deuteronomy acquired chapters 1-4 and 29-30 to form an instructive story of a people about to enter a “Promised Land,” a story that highlights the requirements of a reinstated covenant relationship with God, updated to 4th-century B.C. requirements, with an appropriate ending in chapters 31-34.

If that’s the case, as the vast majority of Hebrew scripture scholars suggest, then the “words that Moses spoke” in Deuteronomy 1: 1 are the words of the literary and theological portrayal of Moses, not the words of Moses the historical figure. They are the ipsissima vox (“the very voice”) not the ipsissima verba (“the very words”) of Moses.

11 The distinction is important for two reasons:

1. Crafting Deuteronomy in “the very voice” of Moses carries with it an implied, divinely-sanctioned authority for what is being said; and

2. It allows the authors to lift the narrative message outside of time, to create an historical continuum that spans countless generations, past, present and future.

As in the celebration of Passover, Deuteronomy elevates the Exodus story outside of history, allowing its readers—past, present and future—to participate in the story itself. If Deuteronomy were simply the historical Moses speaking to the Israelites on the plains of Moab—the ipsissima verba (“the very words”) of Moses—it would make a good story, a bridge between the Exodus tale and the conquest of the Promised Land. But by the 4th- century, authors, editors and redactors had created the literary figure of Moses—the ipsissima vox (“the very voice”) of Moses—allowing the story to transcend its historical roots and become a universal statement, the narrative of all liberation stories, the narrative of redemption.

When the scribe and priest returns to Jerusalem in 458 B.C., it is this story that he reads to the returned exiles in 8, and it is this story—the , in its final, finished form—that rises quickly to the top of Hebrew literature, an early entrant into the canon of the Hebrew Scriptures.

Of course, there were many other works written in Hebrew from the 3rd century B.C. through the 3rd century A.D. that did not make it into the Hebrew canon, books such as the “ of Abraham,” the “,” the “Revelation of Ezra,” the “Martyrdom and Ascension of ,” and many more. All of them vied for readership, but only the cream rose to the top. The books that didn’t make it are classified as “,” from the Greek yeudhvß, “false,” and e∆pigrafhv, “name” or “inscription.” Every book of the Hebrew Scriptures has its own more or less complex textual history, and each book followed its own path to canonization; many vanished through neglect or were tossed aside along the way, relegated to mere literary artifacts.

The (LXX)

Thanks to the conquests of (356-323 B.C.) and his successors, (“common” Greek) became the lingua franca of the ancient Near East, lands stretching from Asia Minor in the north to Egypt in the south, and from Macedonia in the east to modern-day Afghanistan and India in the west. was so successful that most of the peoples in those lands embraced it wholeheartedly. A fairly large number of Jews resisted the trend in Babylon, producing the Babylonian in Hebrew and during the 6th century A.D., but most embraced the culture and language of the Greeks. In the west—particularly in , Egypt, and north into Jerusalem and Judah—Hellenization became so complete that Hebrew was all but

12 forgotten and Greek became the written language of literate Jews (recall that the entire was written in Koine Greek).

Since the Hebrew Scriptures were not accessible to Hellenized Jews, the Hebrew Scriptures needed to be translated into Greek. The pseudepigraphal “Letter of Aristeas” is a story telling how that translation came to be. The Egyptian king, II (285- 247 B.C.) wanted Demetrius of Phalerum, his librarian, to collect all the books in the world for his library at Alexandria. Demetrius thought that such a collection should include the Jewish Law in a Greek translation, and so he ordered a letter to be written to the high priest in Jerusalem. In the letter, he suggested that six members of each of the twelve tribes be involved in the translation, a suggestion that was accepted by the high priest, and the 72 men were sent to Alexandria, where, after a sumptuous banquet, they set to work on their translation.

Letter of Aristeas, translation by Mattia Palmiere (BSB Clm 627), c. 1480. Bavarian State Library, Munich.

13 Miraculously, the 72 men completed the final draft of their translation in precisely 72 days! After being reviewed by the Greek-speaking Jewish community in Alexandria, curses were pronounced on anyone who should change the translation in any way, affirming that the translation was “canonized” as the official Greek version of the text:

“As the books were read, the priests stood up, with the elders from among the translators and from the representatives of the ‘Community,’ and with the leaders of the people, and said, ‘Since this version has been made rightly and reverently, and in every respect, accurately, it is good that this should remain exactly so, and that there should be no revision.’ There was general approval of what they said, and they commanded that a curse should be laid, as was their custom, on anyone who should alter the version by any addition or change to any part of the written text, or any deletion either. This was a good step taken, to ensure that the words were preserved completely and permanently in perpetuity.”1

Although the story tells us that 72 men worked as translators, the Alexandrian Greek translation became known as the “70” (or LXX, Septuaginta in Latin), perhaps recalling Exodus 24: 1, 9 where we read that 70 elders accompanied Moses up Mt. Sinai to receive the law and the commandments from God.

This original Septuagint translation in the mid-3rd century B.C. included only the five books of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy; by that time these books were firmly established in as canonical. The “Prophets” and the “Writings” were added to the Septuagint over time, as were other books written in Greek, including those we call the Deuterocanonical books: Tobit, Judith, 1 & 2 Maccabees, Wisdom, Sirach, Baruch and the additions to Daniel and Esther, as well as the , 3 & 4 Maccabees, , , the Prayer of Manasseh and Psalm 151, which were included in some copies of the Septuagint.

Importantly, the Septuagint—the “Bible” that and the Apostles knew—was not yet a closed canon at the time of Jesus and the early . As nearly as we can tell, there was no established “canon” of Scripture at all in Judaism prior to A.D. 70, no authoritative list from which books could be added or subtracted. While there were authoritative writings gathered into groups—“the Law, the Prophets and the Psalms,” as Jesus said in Luke 24: 44—these categories remained open for quite some time, for prophecy was not yet seen as being limited to the distant past: witness the advent of Jesus and the Christian scriptures as a movement within Judaism.

Although it has been said since the 19th century that after the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Second Temple in A.D. 70, the fixed and closed the canon of the Hebrew Scriptures at the in A.D. 90, current research discredits that assertion (one that I’ve made myself, but now retract). (1817-1891)

1 James H. Charlesworth, ed. “The Letter of Aristeas,” in The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, vol. 2. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985), p. 33.

14 first proposed this hypothesis in his 1871 book, History of the Jews. In it, Graetz points out that the Mishna, compiled at the end of the 2nd century, describes a debate over some of the books in the (or “Writings”), in particular the and , as reading them could render a person “unclean.” From this and other references, Graetz envisioned a “council” that met at Jamnia (or ) twelve miles south of present day , in a school of religious law that had been founded by shortly before A.D. 70. Raymond Brown, one of the giants of 20th- century Roman Catholic biblical scholarship, seriously questioned the Council of Jamnia hypothesis in the New Jerome Biblical Commentary (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1990), as did, F. F. Bruce, the superb Protestant evangelical scholar, who said in The Canon of Scripture (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 1988), that it is “probably unwise to talk as if there were a Council or Synod of Jamnia which laid down the limits of the Old Testament canon.” Today, in light of on-going research, nearly all credible scripture scholars agree.2

Jospehus, our 1st-century A.D. Jewish historian (A.D. 37- c. 100), gives us the earliest reference to books included in a closed the Jewish canon:

“[W]e have not an innumerable multitude of books among us, disagreeing from, and contradicting one another [as the Greeks have:] but only twenty two books: which contain the records of all the past times: which are justly believed to be divine. And of them five belong to Moses: which contain his laws, and the traditions of the origin of mankind, till his death. This interval of time was little short of three thousand years. But as to the time from the death of Moses, till the reign of Artaxerxes, King of Persia, who reigned after Xerxes, the Prophets, who were after Moses, wrote down what was done in their times, in thirteen books. The remaining four books contain hymns to God; and precepts for the conduct of human life. ’Tis true, our history hath been written since Artaxerxes very particularly; but hath not been esteemed of the like authority with the former by our forefathers; because there hath not been an exact succession of Prophets since that time. And how firmly we have given credit to these books of our own nation, is evident by what we do. For during so many ages as have already passed, no one has been so bold, as either to add anything to them; to take anything from them; or to make any change in them. But it is become natural to all Jews, immediately, and from their very birth, to

2 Jack P. Lewis offers an excellent overview of the Jamnia issue in “Jamnia Revisited,” in The Canon Debate, Lee M. McDonald and James A. Sanders, eds. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2002), pp. 146-162. For more detailed studies see: R. T. Beckwith, “Formation of the ” and E. E. Ellis, “The Old Testament Canon in the Early church,” both in Mikra: Text Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient and Early , ed. by Martin J. Mulder and Harry Sysling (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2004), pp. 39-86 and 653-690, respectively.

15 esteem these books to contain divine doctrines; and to persist in them: and, if occasion be, willingly to die for them.”

(Against Apion, 1: 8)

Josephus writes Against Apion sometime after A.D. 94. Notice that he does not name the twenty-two books in his “canon,” but only gives categories that span the time of Moses (c. 1526-1406 B.C) through that of Artaxerxes, the Persian king who reigned during the time of Ezra and Nehemiah (465-424 B.C.). The twenty-two books that includes are identical to the thirty-nine books of the Christian common canon, but they are grouped differently: the Law = Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy, five books; the Prophets = , , Kings, Isaiah, Jeremiah/Lamentations, , and the Twelve (minor prophets), seven books; and the Writings = Psalms, Proverbs, , Song of Songs, Ruth/Judges, Ecclesiastes, Esther, Daniel, Ezra/Nehemiah and Chronicles, ten books. This is the ordering of Jewish today, as well. The early Church father, (A.D. 185-254), cleverly observes that the twenty-two books of Scripture mentioned by Josephus correspond to the twenty-two letters in the , the twenty-two letters enabling an introduction to Wisdom, while the twenty-two books offer an introduction to God.

But this does not settle the issue of a closed, authoritative canon of Old Testament scripture. It would be naïve—and, indeed, incorrect—to think that there was any normative body within that made such universal proclamations regarding what books were included in the Law, the Prophets and the Writings. In Jesus’ day and throughout the 2nd and 3rd centuries, there were hundreds, if not thousands, of scattered throughout the Roman Empire, and there was no single governing body overseeing their operation. Consequently, there was a great deal of latitude in what one community viewed as “scripture,” verses what other communities viewed as “scripture.” Certainly, there were foundational books in each category, but beyond that, the Law, the Prophets and the Writings were loosely defined. Only in the 2nd through 5th centuries in Palestine, the 3rd through 7th centuries in Persian Mesopotamia and the early Middle Ages in the Mediterranean world and in Europe did “the Rabbis” develop a cohesive, unified and somewhat authoritative voice, drawing upon the vast and ever- growing body of “oral” law, the writings of the Mishna (consisting of 63 tractates, A.D. 200-220); the Gamara (running commentaries on debates within the Mishna); the two combined comprising the Talmud (both the “Jerusalem Talmud,” A.D. 300-350 and the “Babylonian Talmud” (A. D. 450-500).

At the time of Jesus and the early Church, however, there was no such authoritative voice.

16 The Christian Canon of Scripture

Jesus wrote nothing. Not a book. Not a letter. Not a laundry list. Jesus’ entire public ministry involved oral teaching and preaching, validated by miraculous healings. It was left to his disciples—the Apostles and others—to write his story and to implement his desire that the “ message” be proclaimed to the very ends of the earth. That was done, not by writing books, but by oral teaching and preaching, as Jesus had done. As we have seen, books—in an age when each book had to be laboriously hand-copied—was a very expensive and inefficient way to disseminate information. Jesus could sit on a hillside, perched a half-mile west of Capernaum, and preach to a crowd of 5,000 people; St. Paul could stay in Ephesus, the major deep-water port on the west coast of Asia Minor, and within three years “all the inhabitants of the province of Asia heard the word of the Lord, Jews and Greeks alike” (Acts 19: 10), as a result of his teaching and preaching to travelers passing through.

No. Books were a very inefficient way of spreading the Gospel. Besides, there was no need to write a book, for virtually every 1st-generation Christian believed that Jesus would return within his or her lifetime to usher in a new kingdom, the Kingdom of God. Books enshrined words for the ages, elevating them to the sacred; but the gospel message was urgent, a message for now.

The earliest Christian writings are those from St. Paul, and his letters and were occasional; that is, they were written for a specific audience or purpose, not for the church as a whole. The earliest were probably 1 & 2 Thessalonians, written during St. Paul’s second missionary journey, after arriving in Corinth (c. A.D. 53-54). St. Paul had spent only three weeks in Thessalonica before being chased out of town by an angry mob (Acts 17: 1-10). The small, embryonic church that had formed in Thessalonica had many questions about what St. Paul had taught during his brief stay, and Paul addresses those questions in his two epistles.

St. Paul probably wrote Galatians at the same time, since he had passed through Galatian territory at the beginning of his second missionary journey. Galatians, too, addresses specific issues in the newly-formed Galatian churches, chiefly that of other teachers passing through and preaching a “different gospel” than the one St. Paul had preached. In Galatians, Paul advises the Galatian churches that any person who teaches anything other than what St. Paul himself had taught them is to be ἀνάθεµα, “accursed”; in other words, tell them to “go to !”

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Valentin de Boulogne. Saint Paul Writing His Epistles (oil on canvas), c. 1620. Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.

All of St. Paul’s epistles—Romans, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, 1 & 2 Thessalonians, as well as his personal letters, 1 & 2 Timothy, Titus and Philemon—are occasional, addressing immediate problems or concerns. They were not meant to be theological treatises, works written for the ages. The same is true for , James, 1 Peter and 1, 2 & 3 John. Second Peter is the only addressed to the church at large and meant to have universal, timeless application; it was written sometime between A.D. 64-68, while St. Peter was awaiting execution in Rome, cooling his heels in the Mamertine prison.

The were another story, entirely. As I mentioned above, when Jesus said to his Apostles, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the , teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28: 19-20a), he did not tell them to go write books; he told them to preach and teach, as he had done. Jesus’ message was urgent, for as he said in the Olivet Discourse: “Amen, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place” (Matthew 24: 34).

Everyone in the 1st-generation church expected Jesus to return during his or her lifetime.

When the early to mid-60s arrived, however, two things happened: 1) those who were eyewitnesses to Jesus’ teaching and preaching, to his death, burial and were aging, and many had already died; and 2) the first state-sponsored persecution against began in Rome, directed by the Emperor Nero, A.D. 64-68. Both Peter and Paul were caught up in the net and were martyred. The historian, Tacitus, records in his

18 Annals (15.43-44) that the Emperor himself had started the Great Fire of Rome (A.D. 64), a controlled burn meant to clear slums for an urban renewal project, but the fire spread, consuming nearly one third of Rome. Seeking a scapegoat for the disaster, Tacitus tells us that Nero fastened blame on the Christians, “a class hated for their abominations,” and subjected them “to the most exquisite tortures . . .. Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs and perished, they were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames and burnt, to serve as a nightly illumination, when daylight had expired.”

Henryk Siemiradzki. Nero’s Torches, or Christian Candlesticks (oil on canvas), 1876. National Museum of Kraków, Poland.

It is impossible to know how many Christians were martyred in Rome between A.D. 64- 68, but the aging, eye-witness population and Roman persecution served as catalysts for the story of Jesus to be written down lest it be lost, seeing as how had not yet returned and the eye-witnesses were quickly disappearing.

Mark’s gospel was probably the first, written sometime in the early to mid-60s and addressed to the Christian community in Rome. Mark, of course, was a Jew; he was a cousin of Barnabas; and he traveled with St. Paul and St. Barnabas on the first missionary journey, A.D. 46-48 . . . although Mark went AWOL at Perga and scampered home to Jerusalem (Acts 13: 13). St. Paul was furious! Later, Mark traveled with St. Peter to Rome, and he knew many believers in the Roman church. By A.D. 68, however, Mark was back in good graces with St. Paul, for when Paul writes his second letter to Timothy from the Mamertine Prison in Rome, he says: “Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is helpful to me in the ministry” (2 Timothy 4: 11).

19 The sense of urgency intensifies in the late 60s with the Great Jewish Revolt of A.D. 66- 72. In one of the dumbest decisions in all of history, the Jews decide to raise an armed rebellion against the Roman Empire, resulting in the destruction of Jerusalem, the Second Temple and the exile of the Jewish people from their land, an exile that lasted until May 14, 1948, with the creation of the modern state of Israel. It was during the days of the Great Jewish Revolt that Matthew—having access to Mark’s gospel—writes his gospel, a Jew writing to a Jewish audience. Luke’s gospel followed in the early to mid- 70s, a gospel written by a Gentile to a specific audience, a man named Theophilus (Luke 1: 1- 4), followed by the , also addressed to Theophilus (Acts 1: 1-2).

The Apostle John rounds off our gospels sometime in the late 80s or early 90s. Knowing that Matthew, Mark and Luke (the Synoptic—“seen with the same eye”—gospels) are circulating in the Christian communities, John—as the last living Apostle—does something very different. He doesn’t give us yet another gospel version drawn from the common sources of Matthew, Mark and Luke; rather, he presents Jesus as only the intimate, “beloved disciple” could, after sixty years of reflecting upon the gospel events.

Of course, many other works were written in the centuries that followed. Like the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, hundreds of New Testament “Apocrypha” emerged, giving accounts of Jesus and his teaching, stories of the Apostles, and musings on God and the lives of the Saints. Such works were commonplace in the early centuries of the Church, works like the Apocalypse of Peter (c. A.D. 175-200), offering a vision of Heaven and hell, granted to Peter by Jesus; the Gospel according to Judas (c. A.D. 280), which claims that Judas was not a betrayer at all, but that he carried out Jesus’ specific instructions; and the Gospel according to Thomas (c. A.D. 340), not a narrative of Jesus’ life, but a collection of sayings attributed to Jesus.

So, which of these many works would make it into the New Testament canon?

20

One of thirteen surviving pages from “The Gospel according to Judas” in Codex Tchacos. Maecenas Foundation for Ancient Art, Basel, Switzerland.

There were many lists of New Testament canonical writings, beginning in the second century. Possibly the earliest of these is the (c. A.D. 170-270). It includes the four gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, although Matthew and Mark are actually missing from the fragment); Acts of the Apostles, all thirteen of St. Paul’s epistles and letters, Jude, two letters of John (1 & 2?) and the Apocalypse of John (Revelation). Missing are: Hebrews, James, 1 & 2 Peter, and one letter of John (3?); added are: the Apocalypse of Peter and the Wisdom of Solomon (!). In the first half of the fourth century (c. A.D. 300-350), the church historian offered a list that included twenty-two books, omitting as “disputed”: James, Jude, 2 Peter and 2 & 3 John. He then went on to note as “spurious” (suggesting that some “canon lists” included them): the , , the Apocalypse of Peter and the . (A.D. 350) listed all 27 books of the current New

21 Testament, except Revelation. Finally, in A.D. 367 Bishop sent his annual letter to the churches in his diocese, informing them of the date of that year’s Easter celebration. This 39th of his Festal Letters contained a definitive list of the 27 books that would become the canon of the New Testament, as we know it today.

As we can see, the lists of books included in the New Testament were more or less consistent, although there were some disagreements. The standard for inclusion seems to be two-fold: 1) a book was attributed to an Apostle or someone closely associated with an Apostle; and 2) in the first generation of the Church. Under the influence and direction of St. Augustine, the list of 27 books given by Athanasius of Alexandria was codified at the Council of Hippo in A.D. 393, affirmed at the Council of Carthage in 397 and affirmed by in A.D. 405.

The Christian Old Testament

As we have seen, the Old Testament canon remained open during the time of Jesus and the formation of the 1st-generation Church. Various books written in Greek, Aramaic and Coptic—not Hebrew—were used by Jews and Christians throughout the Roman Empire. In the 1st century A.D., the Church was predominantly Jewish, but by the end of the 2nd century A.D. Gentiles made up the vast majority of believers. For Christians, then, the Hebrew Scriptures (or the Old Testament) had its greatest value not in how it illuminated the history, destiny and self-understanding of the Jews, but in how it foreshadowed or “pointed to” Christ, especially as Gentiles became more and more prominent in the Church. By the time we get to St. Augustine and the Council of Hippo in A.D. 393, a “Christian” canon of Old Testament Scripture had begun to take shape, based upon those books in the Septuagint that Jesus would have known, those books that foreshadowed Christ and those that were efficacious for teaching about Christ.

One of the two earliest complete copies of a Christian Bible is , a Greek manuscript written between A.D. 330-360 in beautiful (the other is (A.D. 300-325). Codex Sinaiticus was discovered by Constantine von Tischendorf in 1844 at St. Catherine’s monastery at the foot of Mount Sinai. The text of the Old Testament is that of the Greek Septuagint, and it includes all of the Deuterocanonical books, plus the Shepherd of Hermas and the . The New Testament includes all 27 books. Tragically, Genesis through 1 Chronicles is missing from the manuscript, lost to the vicissitudes of time and history. The entire manuscript as we have it contains over 400 large leaves (380mm x 345 mm) made of prepared animal skin. Of those leaves, 347 are in the British Library and the rest are in the Library of the University of Leipzig, the National Library of Russia in St. Petersburg and at St. Catherine’s monastery. The manuscript, along with Codex Vaticanus, is a snapshot of the Christian canon as the scribes at St. Catherine’s monastery understood it in the mid-4th century, shortly before St. Augustine proposed his canon in A.D. 393 at the Council of Hippo.

22

Codex Sinaiticus, Matthew 6: 4-32. British Library, Add. MS 43725.

23

St. Augustine’s List of Books in the Old Testament, A.D. 393

The Five Books of Moses Prophets

Genesis Psalms Exodus Proverbs Leviticus Song of Songs Numbers Ecclesiastes Deuteronomy Wisdom Ecclesiasticus

Historiography Twelve Prophets

Joshua Judges Ruth 1-4 Reigns (1 & 2 Samuel and 1 & 2 Kings) 1-2 Paralipomenon (1 & 2 Chronicles) Job Tobit Esther Judith 1 & 2 Maccabees 1 & 2 Ezra (Ezra/Nehemiah) Zechariah

Isaiah Jeremiah Daniel Ezekiel

St. Augustine’s list includes 44 books. With Lamentations and Baruch, which are included under Jeremiah, the list totals 46 books, the same books that were translated into Latin by St. Jerome as the Latin Vulgate, which became of Christendom for 1,000 years. These are the very same books that were affirmed as canonical at the fourth session of the on April 4, 1546, the same books that are in today’s Roman Catholic canon, including the Deuterocanonical books of Tobit, Judith, 1 & 2 Maccabees, Wisdom, Sirach, Baruch, and additions to Esther & Daniel—which we are about to study.

24 The Deuterocanonical Books Syllabus

Lesson #1: The Canon of Scripture, Part 1

The Codex Sinaiticus is one of the oldest manuscripts of a complete Christian Bible, (c. A.D. 330-360). It is the text of the Greek Septuagint, and it includes all of the Deuterocanonical books. British Library, Add. MS 43725.

The word “canon” derives from the Greek canovn, a “measuring rod” or “standard,” kah-nay’], meaning “reed.” A “canon” is a set of] הֶנָק perhaps related to the Hebrew standards considered to be norms for a particular community. The “canon” of Scripture refers to all of the books considered to be normative for Christians. Protestants have 39 books in the Old Testament; Roman Catholics have 46 books; and Orthodox have 51

25 books. So, who decided what books comprise the Bible? What were the criteria for inclusion? And why do the books vary from one denomination to another?

In Lesson #1 we explore how “canons” came to be in the first place, and we begin our exploration of how the canon of Scripture began to form and evolve.

Lesson #2: The Canon of Scripture, Part 2

Illuminated page from the Gutenberg Bible, the first complete Bible printed on a movable type press, c. 1455. Only 48 copies survive, 12 printed on vellum and 36 on paper. The British Library holds two copies, one vellum and one paper. The page above is on paper. The Gutenberg Bibles include all 46 books of the Latin Vulgate canon. British Library, Shelfmark C.9.d.3,4.

26 In Lesson #2 we continue our exploration of the canon of Scripture, considering both the Old Testament and the New Testament, and we focus on the books that are in Roman Catholic and Orthodox Bibles, but that are not in Jewish or Protestant Bibles; that is, the Deuterocanonical books.

Lesson #3: The Adventures of Tobit, Part 1 (Tobit 1: 1 – 5: 22)

William-Adolphe Bouguereau. Tobias Saying Goodbye to His Father (oil on canvas), 1860. Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg.

The is a vastly entertaining—and instructive—“novella,” probably written in the early years of the 2nd century B.C. It tells the story of Tobit, a wealthy Israelite living among the captives deported to Nineveh from the northern kingdom of Israel after the Assyrian conquest of 722 B.C. A series of personal disasters befalls Tobit— including going blind (after a flock of birds poop in his eyes!)—and he begs God to let him die, but then he recalls a large sum of money that he had left in the distant land of Media, and he sends his son, Tobias, to retrieve it. Tobias needs a guide to lead him to Media, of course, and he finds a friendly young man named Azariah . . . who turns out to be the Raphael, in disguise!

27 Meanwhile in Media, a beautiful young woman, , begs God to take her life. She had been given in marriage seven times, but each time her husband died on their wedding night!

You just know that Tobias is going to hook up with Sarah during his journey. But will he survive the night?

Lesson #4: The Adventures of Tobit, Part 2 (Tobit 6: 1 – 14: 15)

Abraham de Pape. Tobit and Anna (oil on oak), c. 1658. , London.

No descriptive narrative on this lesson, lest it be a “spoiler”!

28 Lesson #5: Judith: “The Gathering Storm” (1: 1 – 7: 32)

Caravaggio. Judith Beheading (oil on canvas), c. 1598-1599. Galleria Nazionale de’Arte Antica, Rome.

Judith is a daring and beautiful widow who delivers the Israelites from the oppression of their foreign enemies. Written abound 100 B.C., we might consider Judith an “historical novella,” although its “history” telescopes five centuries and vast geographical territory into a single literary and historical landscape. The first half of the story features the victories of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Assyria (!), and they introduce Judith’s nemesis, Holofernes.

29 Lesson #6: Judith: “The Mata Hari of Scripture” (8: 1 – 16: 25)

Gustav Klimt. Judith 1 (oil and gold on canvas), 1901. Österreichische Galerie Belvedere, Vienna.

Fed up with her people’s inaction, Judith takes matters into her own hands. Infiltrating the enemy camp, Judith and her maid gain the confidence of Holofernes, the enemy’s commanding general. Holofernes, of course, tries mightily to seduce Judith, giving a great banquet in her honor. Judith plays along, getting Holofernes mightily drunk, softening him up for the coup de grâce and the liberation of her people.

30 Lesson #7: 1 Maccabees, Introduction

Evaggelos Moustakas. Alexander the Great astride his horse, Bucephalus (1973). Nea Paralia, Thessaloniki, Greece.

Photography by Ana Maria Vargas

Alexander the Great launched his campaign to conquer the Persian Empire by crossing the Hellespont in 334 B.C. with an army of 50,000 men, casting a spear into Asian soil and claiming it as a gift from the gods. By his death in 323 B.C., he had indeed conquered all of the Persian Empire, stretching from Asia Minor in the west to India in the east, and south through Palestine and into Egypt, a vast Empire.

Alexander died at the palace of Nebuchadnezzar in Babylon at the age of 32. After his death, his four generals—Ptolemy, Seleucus, Lysimachus and Antigonus—divided his kingdom among themselves, Ptolemy getting Egypt, Seleucus getting Mesopotamia and Central Asia, Lysimachus getting Anatolia and Antigonus getting Macedonia.

Antiochus IV Epiphanes ruled the from 175 to 164 B.C. Although his predecessors respected and Jewish institutions, Antiochus dramatically reversed those policies, forbidding Jewish worship at the . This triggered a revolt in 167 B.C., led by the Jewish priest, Matthias, and his son Judah (“the hammer”) Maccabee. Using guerrilla tactics, the Maccabees won a string of battles against the slower and more heavily laden Seleucid forces, liberating Jerusalem, cleansing the Temple, reestablishing Jewish worship and installing Jonathan Maccabee as high priest.

Written around 100 B.C., 1 & 2 Maccabees tells the dramatic story of the revolt.

31 Lesson #8: 1 Maccabees: Crisis and Response (1: 1 – 9: 22)

Peter Paul Rubens (and workshop). The Triumph of (oil on canvas), c. 1635. Nantes Museum of the Arts, Nantes, France.

1 Maccabees begins with Alexander the Great conquering the territory of , only to be succeeded eventually by the Seleucid king Antiochus IV Epiphanes. After invading the of Egypt, Antiochus captures Jerusalem, removes sacred objects from the Temple and slays many Jews in the process. He then imposes taxes on the Jews and establishes a fortress in Jerusalem.

In 168 B.C., Antiochus desecrates the Temple by offering an “abomination of desolation” on the (presumably, pig flesh); he forbids circumcision and possession of Jewish Scriptures; he forbids worship on the Sabbath; and he erects a gymnasium in Jerusalem. Since men exercised in the gymnasium naked (“gymnasium” is from the Greek gumnovß, meaning “naked”) one could spot a Jew in a second! Many Jews, however, welcomed such Hellenization, and many even had their foreskins restored through tissue expansion,

32 a painful “stretching” using a mechanical device (thankfully, I won’t include an illustration . . . although I could!).

Matthias called upon the people to resist, and he and his three sons launch a revolt, freeing and re-consecrating the Temple in 165 B.C., a revolt remembered and celebrated today in the Jewish feast of .

Lesson #9: 1 Maccabees: Leadership of Jonathan and Simon (9: 23 – 16: 24)

The purported sarcophagus of Herod the Great (73-4 B.C.) found at Herodium, a fortress Herod built on the outskirts of , 23-15 B.C.

In the wake of the revolt, Judas Maccabee seeks an alliance with the emerging to remove the Greeks. Judas is succeeded by his brother, Jonathan, who becomes high priest and who continues attempting to form an alliance with Rome, while succeeding in allying with .

Simon then follows his brother, and he gains the double office of high priest and “prince of Israel.” Simon’s successors form the , viewed by many Jews as illegitimate, since the Maccabees were not descendants of king David. Simon leads the Jews until he is murdered by agents of Ptolemy, who had been named governor by the Macedonian Greeks.

33 The Hasmonean dynasty reigned independently until 63 B.C., when the Roman general intervened in the Hasmonean civil war, making it a client kingdom of the Roman Empire. In 37 B.C., the Roman Senate ended the Hasmonean dynasty by naming, Herod the Great (who was half Jew and half Edomite), as “King of the Jews,” inaugurating the Herodian dynasty and leading us into New Testament times.

Lesson #10: 2 Maccabees: Maccabees Redux (1: 1 – 15: 39)

Antonio Ciseri. Martyrdom of the Seven Sons (oil on canvas), 1863. Church of Saint Felicity, Florence.

2 Maccabees retells the story of the from the beginning through the defeat of Nicanor in 161 B.C. by Judas Maccabeus. Unlike 1 Maccabees which was originally written in Hebrew, 2 Maccabees was written in Koine Greek, probably in Alexandria, Egypt toward the end of the 2nd century B.C. Although much material is repeated from 1 Maccabees, 2 Maccabees adds theological elements, including , merits of the , intercession of the Saints and resurrection of the dead.

It also includes a long description of the martyrdom of Eleazar and the famous story of the martyrdom of a mother’s seven sons (2 Maccabees 6: 18 – 7: 42).

34 Lesson #11: The , Part 1 (Wisdom 1: 1 – 10: 21)

“Wisdom,” Stammheim Missal (illumination, tempera on paper) Ms. 64, fol. 11, c. 1170. Getty Museum, Los Angeles. [Lady Wisdom supports Christ within the arc of heaven, flanked by king David on the left and Abraham on the right.]

An anonymous author wrote the Book of Wisdom about fifty years before Jesus and the advent of Christianity. He was probably a member of the Jewish community in Alexandria, Egypt, and he wrote in Greek in a style similar to that of Hebrew verse. At times our author speaks in the very voice—the ipsissima vox—of Solomon, much as the post-Babylonian captivity editors and redactors of Deuteronomy spoke in the very voice of Moses, allowing the words to transcend their historical roots and enter the literary realm of the sacred. Thus, the Book of Wisdom is sometimes called “The Wisdom of Solomon.”

Written in the corrupt days of the fading Hasmonean dynasty, Wisdom encourages its readers and listeners by emphasizing the splendor of divine Wisdom; the glorious events of the Exodus; the folly of ; and God’s justice and mercy.

Wisdom’s first ten chapters foreshadow and provide background for understanding Jesus’ teaching in the next century.

35 Lesson #12: The Book of Wisdom, Part 2 (Wisdom 11: 1 – 19: 22)

James Tissot. The Gathering of Manan (gouache on board), c. 1896-1902. Jewish Museum, New York.

Wisdom, chapters 11-15, focuses on God’s providence during the Exodus, on God’s mercy and on the folly and shame of idolatry.

36 Lesson #13: Sirach, Part 1

Jörg Breu the Younger. “The High Priest Jesus Sirach,” in The Secret Book of Honors of the Fugger Family (illustration, fol. 3r), c. 1545-1549. Bavarian State Library, Munich.

Sirach was composed in Hebrew between 200-175 B.C. by the Jewish scribe, “ [Jesus], ben Eleazer, ” (50: 27)—as our author is called in 50: 27—or simply “Sirach.” Translated into Greek in Alexandria, Egypt by Sirach’s unnamed grandson sometime before 117 B.C., it is the largest collection of to have survived. In its Latin translation, it is called Ecclesiasticus, or “Church Teachings.” Sirach appears in Greek in the Septuagint, as well as in Codex Vaticanus (A.D. 300-325) and Codex Sinaiticus (A. D. 330-360), strong testimony to its inclusion in the developing Christian canon of Scripture. Manuscript fragments of Sirach have been found at , as well as among the .

Unlike Proverbs, which is a collection of proverbial wisdom from a variety of sources, Sirach, is the work of a single author; but unlike Proverbs, Sirach shows no readily discernable structure. The New (New York: Oxford University

37 Press, 4th Edition, pp. 99-101) points out, however, that ten discernable themes wind their way through its lengthy text:

• Creation (16: 24 – 17: 24, 18: 1-14; 33: 7-15; 39: 12-35; and 42: 15 – 43: 33) • Death (11: 26-28; 22: 11-12; 38: 16-23; and 41: 1-13) • Friendship (6: 5-17; 9: 10-16; 19: 13-17; 22: 19-26; 27: 16-21; and 36: 23 – 37: 15) • Happiness (25: 1-11; 30: 14-25; and 40: 1-30) • Honor and Shame (4: 20 – 6: 4; 10: 19 – 11: 6; and 41: 14 – 42: 8) • Money Matters (3: 30 – 4: 10; 11: 7-28; 13: 1 – 14: 19; 29: 1-28; and 31: 1-11) • (7: 1-17; 15: 11-20; 16: 1 – 17: 32; 18: 30 – 19: 3; 21: 1-10; 22: 27 – 23: 27; and 26: 28 – 28: 7) • Social Justice (4: 1-10; 34: 21-27; and 35: 14-26) • Speech (5: 6, 9-15; 18: 15-29; 19: 4-17; 20: 1-31; 23: 7-15; 27: 4-7, 11-15; and 28: 8-26) • Women (9: 1-9; 23: 22-27; 25: 13 – 26: 27; 36: 26-31; and 42: 9-14)

We shall consider each of these themes as we make our way through Sirach.

Lesson #14: Sirach, Part 2

Sirach’s world view contrasts admiration for the values of past generations with the wickedness of modern times (something that every generation seems to mimic!). In Sirach’s view, wisdom equates with the “fear of God,” exemplified by obedience to God’s Law. Characteristic of his historical and cultural background, Sirach holds women in low esteem and slaves in contempt, distrusting women while viewing them as possessions, and treating slaves harshly.

Interestingly, in chapters 44-50, Sirach praises the “men of renown,” the heroes of past generations, from the antediluvian through “Simon the high priest, son of Onias” (300-270 B.C.). While doing so, Sirach mentions either directly or indirectly books that would eventually make it into the canon of the Hebrew Scriptures, or “Old Testament,” providing additional insight into how the Hebrew canon evolved and formed.

38 Lesson #15: Introduction to Baruch

Rembrandt. Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem (oil on canvas), c. 1630. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Netherlands.

In the book of the prophet Jeremiah we read:

“In the fourth year of Jehoiakim, son of Josiah, king of Judah, this word came to Jeremiah from the LORD: Take a scroll and write on it all the words I have spoken to you about Israel, Judah, and all the nations, from the day I first spoke to you, from the days of Josiah, until today . . . So Jeremiah called Baruch, son of Neriah, and he wrote down on a scroll what Jeremiah said, all the words which the LORD had spoken to him.”

(36: 1-4)

39 Baruch was Jeremiah’s scribe or secretary (as Tertius was St. Paul’s scribe or secretary, c.f., Romans 16: 22). The is a collection of four compositions, ending with “The Letter of Jeremiah.” Baruch may originally have been written in Hebrew, but it appears in the Greek Septuagint, and it only survives in Greek manuscript fragments. It is included in Codex Vaticanus, but not in Codex Siniaticus, nor did St. Jerome include it in his Latin Vulgate, although it creeps into the Vulgate in later centuries.

Baruch is set in Babylon, where Baruch reads his scroll to king Jehoiachin and the exiles, who in response send gifts to Jerusalem, presumably with Baruch. Baruch’s underlying theme is the cycle of sin, punishment, repentance and return. That is, of course, the cycle we witness in the linear narrative of 1 & 2 Kings, Ezra & Nehemiah.

In Lesson #15, we explore the historical context of Baruch; in Lesson #16, we examine the book of Baruch, itself.

Lesson #16: The Text of Baruch

(‘By the Waters of Babylon),” Eadwine (illumination on parchment, R.17.1, fol. 243v), c. 1150. College, Dublin.

40 Lesson #17: Additions to Daniel

Guido Reni . Suzanna and the Elders (oil on canvas), c. 1620-1625. National Gallery, London.

The tells the story of a young Jew of the Israelite royal family, taken captive to Babylon in 605 B.C., among the first wave of captives taken by king Nebuchadnezzar. Arriving in Babylon, young Daniel is trained in the language and literature of the Babylonians—along with his three friends: Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah—and renamed, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Once schooled, they enter the service of the king as translators and interpreters, fluent in both Hebrew and the Babylonian language.

The book of Daniel tells the story of Daniel and his friends in the Babylonian court of Nebuchadnezzar in Chapters 1-6, and it moves to a series of apocalyptic visions in Chapters 7-12. Chapters 1 and 8-12 are written in Hebrew, while Chapters 2-7 are written in Aramaic. The book itself was written as an apocalyptic “novella,” sometime during the bitter persecution under Antiochus IV Epiphanes, c. 167-164 B.C., the persecution that triggered the Maccabean Revolt. The book of Daniel assures the Jews of Jerusalem that just as God saved Israel during the Babylonian Captivity, so will he save Israel once again under the persecution of the Seleucid kings. In the Hebrew canon, Daniel is among the Ketuvim, or “Writings,” while in the Christian canon it is one of the four Major Prophets, along with Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel. The

41 Deuterocanonical book of Daniel contains three additional stories in Greek: 1) (13: 1-64); 2) Bel and the Dragon (14: 1-22, 23-42); and 3) the Prayer of Azariah (3: 24- 90).

Lesson #18: Additions to Esther

John Everett Mallais. Esther (oil on canvas), 1865. Private collection.

The books of Ezra and Nehemiah tell the story of the Jews who returned from the Babylonian captivity; Esther tells the story of those who stayed behind in Persia.

And what a story it is! The Greco-Persian wars began in 499 B.C. under the Persian king Darius I, and they continued throughout the reigns of Xerxes and Artaxerxes, ending in 449 B.C. The story

42 of Esther opens in 483 B.C. during the run up to Xerxes’ campaign against the Greeks. Xerxes had invited to Susa all of his most important officials from the 127 provinces of Persia, stretching from India to Cush, entertaining them with a great banquet, the men in one luxurious hall and the women in another, as was the ancient custom. After a 7-day feasting and drinking party, Xerxes commanded his queen, Vashti, to “display her beauty” to Xerxes’ now drunken guests. She refused. In a fit of pique, Xerxes issued a decree throughout the Empire that all women must obey their husbands, and he promptly banished Vashti from the royal marriage bed.

Then he left for the war.

Xerxes had thrown the party in Susa to garner support for the 2nd Persian invasion of Greece, 480-479 B.C. Although he did get the support, the extravaganza in Susa was a personal disaster for him—at least on the home front.

Then he went off to war with a huge army and a massive naval armada. Engaging the Greeks at Thermopylae (the “Hot Gates”), Xerxes thrashed his enemy (and the vastly outnumbered Spartans who died defending the narrow pass at Thermopylae won eternal glory in one of history’s most famous “last stands”). Emboldened by his victory at Thermopylae, Xerxes torched Athens and brought his navy into play at the narrow straits of Salamis. Although Xerxes’ navy vastly outnumbered the Greek’s navy, the sheer number of ships jammed into the narrow strait put Xerxes’ at a severe disadvantage. As a result of the chaos and confusion, most of Xerxes’ ships went to the bottom of the sea.

Xerxes crawled home, defeated.

Once home, Xerxes plunged into a dark pit of depression. Losing the Battle of Salamis— not to mention most of his navy—Xerxes now missed his queen, Vashti, too! How could he have been so stupid as to issue that dumb decree? Worried about their king, Xerxes’ attendants propose an intriguing antidote to his despair: an Empire-wide beauty contest to find the kingdom’s most beautiful and sexually-gifted virgin to be Xerxes’ new wife!

In the end, Esther wins the contest, and she becomes queen of Persia!

Once queen, we learn that Esther’s relative the Jew—a minor court official— snubs Haman, one of Xerxes’ high-level officials. Not one to let an insult pass, Haman plots not only Mordecai’s downfall, but the slaughter of all the Jews in the Persian Empire . . . on a single day!

Esther learns of the evil plan, and only she is capable of thwarting it. But will she? Xerxes doesn’t know that Esther is a Jew, for Mordecai had told her to hide her heritage, lest it put her out of the running in the beauty contest. So, to save the Jews she must put herself at risk, admitting that she, too, is a Jew. If the plan doesn’t work, she will be killed with the rest of the Hebrew people.

43 In a stunning twist, Haman, not Mordecai, is impaled on a pointy pole; Esther saves her people, the Jews; and Mordecai receives Haman’s estate and his job: Mordecai becomes Grand Vizier of Persia.

It’s a great story . . . but there is not a single mention of God in the Hebrew text! All the saving was done by Esther and Mordecai.

To make the story of Esther more palatable for pious Jewish believers, an additional six chapters in Greek were interspersed throughout the tale. Here in Lesson #18 we examine the Greek additions.

Lesson #19: Orthodox Bonus: 3 & 4 Maccabees

Although labeled “3 Maccabees,” the book has nothing to do with 1 & 2 Maccabees and the Maccabean Revolt; rather, after Ptolemy’s defeat of Antiochus III in 217 B.C. at the battle of Raphia half a century earlier, Ptolemy determines to visit the Temple in Jerusalem, but he is miraculously prevented from entering the building. He is enraged, and upon his return to Alexandria, Egypt, he rounds up all the Jews to slaughter them in the hippodrome by having 500 drunken elephants crush them! Of course, his plan is thwarted, and Ptolemy ends up honoring all the Jews instead.

“Fable” or “historical romance,” 3 Maccabees is a great story!

4 Maccabees is a philosophical discourse praising reason over passion in two parts, drawing on examples from 1 & 2 Maccabees, principally from the martyrdom of Eleazer and the Maccabean youths. We’ll take a brief look at it.

44 Lesson #20: Orthodox Bonus: , Odes and Psalm 151

1 Esdras is a retelling of the canonical , with one addition: the “Tale of the Three Guardsmen.” We’ll have a look at it in this lesson.

The Odes contain a collection of 15 and songs, including the “Prayer of Manasseh.” We’ll look especially at this prayer within the context of ’s son, king Manasseh, whose story we find in 2 Kings 21: 1-18; : 1-9.

Finally, Psalm 151 is a short Psalm found in the Septuagint, but not in the Hebrew Scriptures. We’ll round off our study of the Deuterocanonical books by having a look at it, too.

45 Bibliography

The Canon of Scripture

Abraham, William J. Canon and Criterion in : From Fathers to Feminism. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998.

Achtemeier, Paul. The Inspiration of Scripture: Problems and Proposals. Philadelphia: Westminster John Knox Press, 1980.

Ackroyd, Peter R. “Original Text and Canonical Text,” Union Seminary Quarterly Review 32 (1977), pp. 166-173.

Barr, James. Holy Scripture: Canon, Authority, Criticism. Philadelphia: Westminster John Knox Press, 1983.

Beckwith, Roger T. “Canon of the Hebrew Bible and the Old Testament,” pp. 102-104 in The Oxford Companion to the Bible, ed. by Bruce Metzger and M. D. Coogan. New York: , 1993.

Bloom, Harold. The Western Canon: The Books and Schools of the Age. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1994.

Blowers, Paul M., ed. and trans. The Bible in Greek Christian Antiquity. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1997.

Brown, Raymond E. “Canonicity,” pp. 515-534 in Jerome Biblical Commentary, ed.by Raymond E. Brown, et al. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall Press, 1968.

Broyde, M. J. “Defilement of the Hands: Canonization of the Bible and the Special Status of Esther, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs,” Judaism 44 (Winter 1995), pp. 65-79.

Bruce, F. F. The Canon of Scripture. Downers Grove, Ill.: Intervarsity Press, 1988.

Bruce, F. F. “Tradition and the Canon of Scripture,” pp. 59-84 in The Authoritative Word: Essays on the Nature of Scripture, ed. by Donald K. McKim. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1983.

Bruns, G. L. “Canon and Power in the Hebrew Scriptures,” Critical Inquiry 10 (1984), pp. 259-289.

Callaway, Philip R. “The Temple Scroll and the Canonization of the Old Testament,” Revue Biblique 13 (1988), pp. 239-243.

46 Chapman, Stephen B. The Law and the Prophets: a Study in Old Testament Canon Formation. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2018.

Collins, J. J. “Before the Canon: Scriptures in Second Temple Judaism,” pp. 225-241 in Old Testament Interpretation Past, Present and Future: Essays in Honor of Gene M. Tucker, ed. by James Luther Mays, David L. Petersen and Kent Harold Richards. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995.

Cross, Frank Moore. From Epic to Canon: History and Literature in Ancient Israel. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000.

Cross, Frank Moore. “The History of the Biblical Text in the Light of the Discoveries in the Judean Desert,” Harvard Theological Review 57 (1964), pp. 281-299.

Cross, Frank Moore. “The Text Behind the Text of the Hebrew Bible,” pp. 139-155 in Understanding the Dead Sea Scrolls: a Reader from the Review, ed. by Hershel Shanks. New York: Vintage Books, 1993.

Davies, Philip R. Scribes and Schools: The Canonization of the Hebrew Scriptures. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1988.

Duncker, P. G. “The Canon of the Old Testament at the Council of Trent,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 15 (1953), pp. 277-299.

Ellis, Earle E. “The Old Testament Canon in the Early Church,” pp. 653-690 in Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. by Martin Jan Mulder and Harry Sysling, Minneapolis: Baker Academic, 2004.

Evans, Craig A. “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Canon of Scripture in the Time of Jesus,” pp. 67-79 in The Bible at : Text, Shape and Interpretation, ed. by Peter W. Flint. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2001.

Fitzmyer, Joseph A. The Dead Sea Scrolls and Christian Origins (Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2000.

Freedman, David Noel. The Unity of the Hebrew Bible (The Distinguished Senior Faculty Lecture Series). Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1991.

Gallagher, Edmund L. and John D. Meade. The Lists from Early Christianity: Texts and Analysis. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017.

47 Gooding, David W. “Aristeas and Septuagint Origins: a Review of Recent Studies,” Vetus Testamentum 12 (1963), pp. 357-378.

Gorak, Jan. The Making of the Modern Canon: Genesis and Crisis of a Literary Idea. London: The Athlone Press, 2002.

Haran, Menahem. “Archives, Libraries and the Order of the Biblical Books,” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society, 22 (1993), pp. 51-61.

Harris, R. Laird. Inspiration and Canonicity of the Bible: an Historical and Exegetical Study. Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 1971.

Harris, William. “Why Did the Codex Supplant the Book-Roll?” pp. 71-85 in Renaissance Society and Culture: Essays in Honor of Eugene F. Rice, Jr., ed. by John Monfasani and Ronald G. Musto. New York: Italica Press, 1991.

Hoffman, Thomas A. “Inspiration, Normativeness, Canonicity and the Unique Sacred Character of the Bible,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 44 (1982), pp. 447-469.

Kermode, Frank. “The Argument about Canons,” pp. 78-96 in The Bible and the Narrative Tradition, ed. by Frank McConnell. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986.

Kraemer, David. “The Formation of the Rabbinic Canon: Authority and Boundaries,” Journal of Biblical Literature 110 (1991), pp. 613-630.

Leiman, Sid Z. The Canonization of the Hebrew Scripture: The Talmudic and Midrashic Evidence, 2nd ed. New Haven: Yale University, Connecticut Academy of Arts, 1991.

Leiman, Sid Z. “Inspiration and Canonicity: Reflections on the Formation of the Biblical Canon,” pp. 56-63 in vol. 2 of Jewish and Christian Self-Definition, ed. by E. P. Sanders, A. I. Baumgarten and Alan Mendelson. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1981.

Leiman, Sid Z. “Josephus and the Canon of the Bible,” pp. 50-58 in Josephus, the Bible and History, ed. by Louis H. Feldman and Gohei Hata. Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1989.

Lienhard, Joseph T. The Bible, the Church and Authority: the Canon of the Christian Bible in History and Theology. Collegeville: Liturgical Press/ Glazier, 1995.

McDonald, Lee Martin and James A. Sanders, eds. The Canon Debate. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002.

48

McDonald, Lee M. “The First Testament: Its Origin, Adaptability and Stability,” pp. 287-326 in The Quest for Context and Meaning: Studies in Biblical Intertextuality in Honor of James A. Sanders, ed. by C. A. Evans and S. Talmon (Biblical Interpretation Series, 28). Leiden: Brill, 1997.

McDonald, Lee M. “The Origins of the Christian Biblical Canon,” Bulletin for Biblical Research 6 (1996), pp. 95-132.

Meuer, Siegfried, ed. The Apocrypha in Ecumenical Perspective (United Bible Societies Monograph Series, 6), trans. By P. Ellingworth. New York: United Bible Societies, 1991.

Mulder, Martin J. and Harry Sysling. Mikra: Text Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient and Early Christianity. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2004.

Murphy, R. E. “A Symposium on the Canon of Scripture: 1. The Old Testament Canon in the ,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 28 (1966), pp. 189-193.

Resnick, Irven M. “The Codex in Early Jewish and Christian Communities,” Journal of Religious History 17 (1992), pp. 1-17.

Roberts, C. H. and T. C. Skeat. The Birth of the Codex, rev. ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987.

Saebo, Magne. On the Way to Canon: Creative Tradition History in the OT (Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series, 191). Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998.

Silver, Daniel Jeremy. The Story of Scripture: from Oral Tradition to the Written Word. New York: Basic Books, 1990.

Sundberg, Albert C., Jr. “A Symposium on the Canon of Scripture: 2. The Protestant Old Testament Canon: Should It Be Re-examined?” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 28 (1966), pp. 194-203.

Swanson, T. N. “The Closing of the Collection of Holy Scripture: a Study in the History of the Canonization of the Old Testament,” Ph.D. dissertation, Vanderbilt University, 1970.

VanderKam, J. C. From Revelation to Canon: Studies in the Hebrew Bible and Second Temple Literature (Journal for the Study of Judaism, Supplement 62). Leiden: Brill, 2002.

49 Zevit, Z. “The Second-Third Century Canonization of the Hebrew Bible and Its Influence on Christian Canonizing,” pp. 133-160 in Canonization and Decanonization, ed. by A. van der Toorn. Leiden: Brill, 1998.

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