Natural reason as a criterion of the true text

It is typically assumed that Greek readings take precedence over versional readings in a versional tradition, that in general, every opportunity is taken to correct the version within the availability of Greek texts and the skill to translate them. But in his commentary on the Old Latin text of Romans 5:14, Ambrosiaster does not follow the Greek reading simply because it is Greek, though he is well aware that it differs from his Old Latin text.

Ambrosiaster catches us by surprise in refusing to prefer Greek text forms as a matter of course. For Ambrosiaster, the fact that a reading is in Latin is not in itself reason to reject it as inferior. But how does he justify this preference for the reading of his translation over that of the original language? And what might this tell us about attitudes towards the Greek and Latin traditions in the West at the end of the fourth century?

The discussion begins with Ambrosiaster’s comment on the prevailing Greek reading of Romans 5:14 (with the negative particle):

“Some Greek manuscripts say that death reigned even in those who had not sinned in the way that Adam had.” (Comm. Rom 5:14) [1]

Ambrosiaster objects to the notion implied by the Greek text that death reigned over all human beings before Moses, whether or not they sinned in the same way as Adam, by turning away from the Creator (Rom 5:14). Ambrosiaster wants to insist that death did not reign over those who like Abraham, acknowledged the Creator before there was a written law that revealed the Creator.

To accomplish this, Ambrosiaster turns to the concept of “natural law,” which he has already noted in connection with the law of the Gentiles mentioned in Romans 2:14: [2]

“nature itself recognizes its Creator through its own capacity for discernment, not through the [Mosaic] law but rather through natural reason (per rationem naturae).” (Comm. Rom 2:14; CSEL, 81/1.75, translation mine) [3]

The significance of natural law for Ambrosiaster’s textual problem lies in its nature as an unwritten principle that precedes the written Law. If this natural law  undergirds the written scriptures, Ambrosiaster believes he can appeal to its corollary, natural reason, to arbitrate between texts of uncertain provenance. Under this assumption of the conformity of scripture to natural law, it is simply understood that the true text will conform to reason, as Ambrosiaster argues elsewhere: [4]

“[t]he Scripture wants … many things to be implied, so that the sense gathered from the words should never be contrary to the reason of religion (rationi religionis).” (Quaest. 26) [5]

So for Ambrosiaster “religious reason” points to the true text in the same way that natural law anticipates the written law. It comes as little surprise then that Ambrosiaster includes “reason” (ratio) as the first of three qualities of “the true text”:

“I consider this to be the true text, when reason, history, and authority are all preserved.” (Comm. in Rom 5:14.5a, see my working translation)

So what are the text-historical implications of Ambrosiaster’s “criterion” of reason?

First, we might point out that while presented as a “criterion,” in practice Ambrosiaster’s appeal to natural reason serves a plainly apologetic function, namely, to defend Old Latin readings against the overwhelming claim to priority of the Greek tradition. Still Ambrosiaster’s appeal to natural reason reveals something of the tension that gripped one particular user of the Old Latin text in attempting to reconcile the clear discontinuity between his preferred text form and the “source of truth” in the Greek tradition. We see him grasping for justification for his preference of the secondary text form even as it stands in outright conflict with the original-language source.

Secondly, if the tension we find in Ambrosiaster is at all indicative of the contemporary situation, we might look for other cases of interaction between the Greek and Latin traditions that suggest a similar conflict. Of course, one obvious case is the Greco-Latin bilingual Codex Bezae. In light of Ambrosiaster, it suddenly begins to matter a great deal who transcribed Codex Bezae and where their loyalties might have been. Were they interested in mere transmission of an ancient text? Were they sympathetic to Ambrosiaster’s views? Were they more engaged in the conflicts of the times? If Bezae’s producers were active in the period between 385 and 415, it is hard to see how they could have been unaware of the Vulgate. But if this is so, the mere selection an Old Latin text already betrays something of their interests.

Finally, the case of Ambrosiaster is rather unsettling to the view that Bezae’s Greek text represents the stable culmination of a tradition of Old Latin exemplars. While not to suggest any personal involvement on his part, in his own words Ambrosiaster fits the profile of an individual who might consider correcting a Greek manuscript on the basis of Old Latin readings. So we have evidence that the necessary motive is attested at the time of Bezae’s production. But regardless of our conclusions, we might agree that Ambrosiaster introduces a certain unforeseen volatility to questions pertaining to the interaction of the Greek and Old Latin traditions in the last decades of the fourth century.


[1] Ambrosiaster. Commentaries on Romans and 1–2 Corinthians (ed. and trans. G. L. Bray; Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 2009) 42, italics mine.

[2] On the role of natural law in Ambrosiaster’s thought, see S. Lunn-Rockliffe, Ambrosiaster’s Political Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007) 50–52. The concept of natural law has a rich tradition in Roman juridical theory and early Christian apologetics, though it is seldom mentioned as explicitly as it is by Ambrosiaster. See A. J. Carlyle, A history of mediaeval political theory in the West, vol. 1, (New York, 1909) 104–105.

[3] Note that in the first edition (α) of his Commentary on Romans (10:8), Ambrosiaster seems to equate the two, referring to “the natural law, called reason” (lege naturae loquendi ratione) (CSEL, 81/1.347).

[4] L. Perrone, “Echi della polemica pagana sulla Bibbia negli scritti esegetici fra IV e V secolo,” Annali di storia dell’esegesi 11 (1994) 161–185 at 175.

[5] Translation by M.-P. Bussières, “Ambrosiaster’s Method of Interpretation in the Questions on the Old and New Testament” in Interpreting the Bible and Aristotle in Late Antiquity (ed. Josef Lösl; J. W. Watt; Burlington, Vt.: Ashgate, 2011) 49–65 at 53.

Has Latin influence on Bezae’s Greek text been disproved?

In a recent post, I noted that theories of Latin influence on Bezae’s Greek text were the norm before J. S. Semler argued that Bezae’s Greek had not been influenced by a Latin version (1767). Following Semler, both J. D. Michaelis and H. Marsh seem especially eager to disprove J. J. Wettstein’s hypothesis that D had been corrected to a Latin version.

J. D. Michaelis assembles readings that in his view “rescue the copyist from the charge of having corrupted the Greek from the Latin,” noting two categories of such readings, namely, those in which the Greek and Latin columns differ and those in which the Latin column has been altered from the Greek. [1] It is clear though that Michaelis’ evidence can only address the limited case in which the copyist of Bezae or its exemplar has been influenced by the Latin column during transcription.

For a case in which the Greek and Latin columns differ, Michaelis cites Mark 11:12, where D was at one time the only Greek witness known to have the singular participle (note that Legg lists Γ with + αυτον):

εξελθοντα απο βηθανιας

Yet d has the plural:

cum exissent (d with a i)

But while it is clear that d could not have influenced D, Michaelis points out that D has support for its singular participle in the Old Latin version, namely from Codex Veronensis:

cum exisset (b with c ff2 q r1)

So far from excluding the possibility that D might have been influenced by the Old Latin versions, Michaelis has unwittingly added support for Wettstein’s hypothesis! This reading suggests that, agreements aside, D has contact with a variant in the Latin tradition that is otherwise largely unknown in the Greek tradition.

Then for a case in which the Latin column has been altered from the Greek, Michaelis cites Acts 10:6, noting that the Latin version “in general” adds hic dicet tibi quid te oporteat facere, while d and e follow their Greek columns by omitting this phrase.

But there are some problems with the evidence.

First, the extra phrase is far from the general Latin reading. The other two Old Latin MSS extant in Acts 10:6 gig and p* both agree with d and e as well as much of the Vulgate tradition, while the addition is supported by pc and another part of the Vulgate tradition.

Second, Michaelis (laboring before Kipling’s edition of Bezae) observes that “the spurious addition ετος λαλησει σοι τι σε δει ποιειν is rejected from the Greek text of those two manuscripts [D and E].” But Bezae preserves here only the Latin side of Acts 10:6, the leaf is missing from the facing Greek. So although the point is moot anyway, we cannot actually know what D read. Yet Michaelis’ confidently-affirmed evidence continues to keep alive the notion that large-scale Latin influence is impossible in D. [2]

We might sum up Michaelis’ contribution in two points:

First, he seems to have influenced the way the question of Latinization was conceived, that is, primarily in transcriptional terms, while leaving unaddressed the larger possibility of systematic correction to a Latin version. In fact, transcriptional data cannot inform us on this question because it reaches no farther back than D’s exemplar. Nor can so-called “Latinisms” help, because in most cases there would have been no trace but the Latin reading itself.

Second, Michaelis and his successors seem to have assumed that he decisively answered Wettstein. But as we have seen, he does not address the same problem.

Clearly then Michaelis did not disprove the possibility that Bezae’s Greek text might have been influenced by a Latin version. The question must be regarded as still open. We simply cannot assume that Bezae’s most distinctive elements represent a pure Greek tradition.


[1] J. D. Michaelis, Introduction to the New Testament (trans. H. Marsh; 1802) 2/1:230. These examples are cited by D. C. Parker, Codex Bezae: An early Christian manuscript and its text (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992) 185.

[2] Parker follows Michaelis, observing “Ac 10.6, where d e follow D E in omitting the phrase hic dicet tibi quid te oportet facere which is found in the rest of the Latin tradition,” concluding that Michaelis “showed that the theory of Latinization was not able to solve the problem of the D text” (p. 185). But as we have seen, D is lacunose in Acts 10:6 and E d e are supported by the Old Latin and much of the Vulgate.

Could Bezae be a response to the Vulgate?

Bezae’s paleographically-assigned date of ca 400 — if accurate — naturally raises questions concerning the attitude of its producers towards Jerome’s Vulgate revision of the Old Latin gospels, completed slightly earlier in ca 384. Certainly, Bezae’s attestation of an Old Latin column suggests an air of conservatism in the milieu that gave it rise. At the same time, its peculiar bilingual profile — pairing an archaic Greek with a contemporary Latin text — suggests an interest in supporting the Old Latin column with a putative Greek Vorlage.

But how likely is it that Bezae’s producers knew of the Vulgate? And if they did, can we suggest anything about their attitude towards it?

The Vulgate’s rough reception is of course well-documented, as we gather in Augustine’s account of the ensuing chaos when the Vulgate was read in a nearby church:

“A certain bishop … having introduced in the church over which he presides the reading of your version, came upon a word in the book of the prophet Jonah, of which you [Jerome] have given a very different rendering from that which had been of old familiar to the senses and memory of all the worshippers, and had been chanted for so many generations in the church. Thereupon arose such a tumult in the congregation, especially among the Greeks, correcting what had been read, and denouncing the translation as false, that the bishop was compelled to ask the testimony of the Jewish residents.” (Epist. 71.5, NPNF 1.1, 327)

This resistance can be adduced also from Jerome’s side, as he responds to critics with characteristic vitriol:

“a report suddenly reached me that certain contemptible creatures were deliberately assailing me with the charge that I had endeavored to correct passages in the gospels, against the authority of the ancients and the opinion of the whole world.” (Epist. 27.1; NPNF 2.6, 44)

Then we have Ambrosiaster’s more cautious though potentially more devastating criticism, pointing to discrepancies in underlying Greek tradition on which the Vulgate is based:

“this is what they want to prescribe for us on the basis of the Greek codices, as though these same codices did not have discrepancies among themselves” (Comm. Rom 5:14, translation mine)

In fact, Ambrosiaster’s challenge attacks the Vulgate at the very point it claims to be strongest, namely, in its greater fidelity to the ancient text. Thus, Jerome argues:

“If … we are to glean the truth from a comparison of many [Latin copies], why not go back to the original Greek?” (Preface to the Four Gospels; NPNF 2.6, 488)

But what if Bezae’s producers, like Ambrosiaster, had wished to demonstrate the fidelity of their own Old Latin version? How might they support their claim? It is obvious they would first need a Greek text to point to in support of key Old Latin readings. Now it is evident that Bezae’s format, with an Old Latin column paired with a “slavishly” similar Greek column, would admirably serve such a purpose. [1]

In fact, certain of Bezae’s characteristics seem especially consistent with such an idea. For example, there is the tendency among Bezae’s early correctors to bring the Greek and Latin columns into even closer agreement, as D. C. Parker observes of Bezae’s earliest correcter (G):

“One of the purposes of his activities in Acts is to remove discrepancies between the columns.” [2]

In this respect, Bezae’s earliest corrections differ markedly from those found in other manuscripts, for example, in Codex Sinaiticus, which tend to agree with other known traditions. But internal consistency is clearly crucial in establishing literary dependence.

But whether or not we see Bezae’s text as potentially a response to the Vulgate, it is clear these were tumultuous times in the Latin church, with significant controversies and schisms the order of the day. One wonders whether this spirit of factionalism might be enough to account for the great effort and expense that evidently went into Bezae’s production at a time when its Old Latin column was already poised for obsolescence.


References

[1] B. Fischer, “Das Neue Testament in lateinischer Sprache: Der gegenwärtige Stand seiner Erforschung und seine Bedeutung für die griechische Textgeschichte” in Die Alten Übersetzungen des Neuen Testaments, Die Kirchenväterzitate und Lektionare (ed. K. Aland; ANTF, 5; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1972) 1-92 at 42.

[2] D. C. Parker, Codex Bezae: An early Christian manuscript and its text (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992) 128.

How to validate a theory of Bezae’s text

Theories on the origin of Bezae’s text are not in short supply. After surveying no less than nine theories on the origins and development of the “Western” text, B. M. Metzger remarked, “one is impressed by the wide diversity of hypotheses and the lack of any generally accepted explanation.” [1]

Consolidating these nine theories into four related groups, we have:

  1. Bezae’s text (of Acts) is attributable to different editions (of Acts), theories 1-4
  2. Bezae’s text reflects the editorial and/or evolutionary development of a free text after the mid-second century, theories 5-6
  3. Bezae’s text is representative of the earliest-attainable text form from before the mid-second century, theory 7
  4. Bezae’s text is assimilated to one of the old versions, either Latin or Syriac, theories 8-9

What is striking (and perhaps revealing) about these groups of theories is their mutual incompatibility. Obviously, Bezae’s text form is either earlier, later, or roughly contemporaneous to the mainstream alternative. But it can only be one of these! Likewise Bezae’s distinctive tradition is either initially Greek or initially Latin/Syriac. But again, it is unlikely to be both.

Yet faced with these main theories and their numerous variations, how are we to decide between them? How do we test a theory of Bezae’s text?

It seems worthwhile at the outset to acknowledge the historical nature of the inquiry. Any theory of Bezae’s origins makes historical claims that bind smaller observations to a larger framework, forcing us to draw connections outside the text itself and outside the textual tradition to the period literature. A textual theory consists of more than noting agreements between witnesses.

A good test discourages theories that are merely plausible, while drawing few connections beyond the text itself. At the same time, a good test encourages comprehensiveness in accounting for the full range of observed features in both text and manuscript. A theory is more likely to be accurate — and useful — if it is comprehensive in its integration of the data under the proposed framework. While critics will inevitably differ on matters of interpretation, it seems they should agree that the key evidence is addressed.

It is inevitable that some periods are better documented than others. Yet we should expect the evidence to be well-integrated with its proposed historical background to the level of detail permitted by the sources. At the same time, the theory’s claims should be corroborated by a range of independent sources and diverse lines of evidence. A robust theory will absorb new evidence and accommodate or even suggest new lines of inquiry.

But it is evident that many of the proposed theories of Bezae’s text do not meet these criteria. For example, multiple-edition theories are incomplete from the outset because they only address the evidence of Acts, while overlooking the four gospels. But if it is thought that the gospels do not belong to the same tradition as Acts, this must be defended. An account must be given of the gospels not merely of Acts.

We might also consider theories of Bezan priority. While such theories claim a historical framework within the limitations of second-century evidence, they have difficulty explaining the local genealogical evidence suggesting that many Bezan readings are derivative. This weakness in turn raises suspicions regarding the limitations of the historical data. It now appears that the theory survives on gaps in our knowledge.

Clearly then, we are not lacking in the supply of theories of Bezae’s text. Yet we must wonder whether the multiplicity of theories disguises a fact that none yet tells the whole story.


[1] Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (2d ed.; Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1994) 233.

Bezae’s elusive Sabbath worker episode and fourth-century anti-Judaizing canons

Bezae’s point of view on the Sabbath is difficult to pin down despite its apparent interest in Sabbath-related passages. This is certainly true of one of Bezae’s more enigmatic variations, depicting Jesus’ encounter with a man working on the Sabbath in Luke 6:5:

“On the same day seeing a certain worker on the Sabbath, he [Jesus] said to him, ‘Man, if you know what you are doing (οιδας τι ποιεις), you are blessed. But if you do not know, you are accursed (επικαταρατος) and a transgressor of the law!'” [1]

Despite wide diversity of opinion concerning potential initial contexts for this saying, interpreters have consistently placed it in the second century or earlier. [2] Of course, this putative saying of Jesus stands out not only in condoning work on the Sabbath, but moreover encouraging it, offering blessing to the man who works on the Sabbath while knowing what he does, yet abruptly pronouncing a curse if he does not know what he does.

In fact, both halves of the pericope are startling in different ways. Yet both halves offer clues suggesting that in its final form the saying belongs in the fourth century, echoing decisions on church order made concerning Christian observance of the Sabbath versus the Lord’s day. It is well-known that by the mid-fourth century, the Lord’s day had been set aside as a day of rest for those who were able to do so (Codex Justin. 3.12.3), while at the same time, resting on the Sabbath was increasingly viewed as “Judaizing” and heretical. The only sure way to avoid the charge of heresy was to work on the Sabbath.

Consider Canon 29 from the Council of Laodicea (ca 363):

“Christians are not to Judaize and rest on the Sabbath. Rather they are to work on this day and honor the Lord’s day, during which they may rest as Christians. But if they are found to be Judaizers, let them stand accursed from Christ (ἔστωσαν ἀνάθεμα παρά Χριστῷ).” [3]

The formal parallels with the Sabbath worker saying stand out at once, but especially the explicit affirmation of work on the Sabbath. Also noteworthy of course are the anathemas, though given (ostensibly) for different reasons. In any case, the form of the saying in Bezae parallels that of the prescription of Canon 29 at Laodicea in a manner that suggests that work on the Sabbath was a matter that set Christians apart from “Judaizing” heretics. In fact, the juridical nature of the saying is noted by E. Bammel, who, while not considering the fourth century as a possible context, nevertheless observes:

“The form of the saying is not without relevance. It gives knowledge its place within a framework which contains elements of juridical argumentation, prescription and liability to penalty.” [4]

But if we suppose such a context, what are we to make of the Sabbath worker’s knowledge in Bezae’s saying? In this light we might consider how the fourth-century redactor of Ignatius’ Epistle to the Magnesians urges Christians to keep a spiritual Sabbath as they perform physical labor on the Sabbath:

“let every one of you keep the Sabbath after a spiritual manner, rejoicing in meditation on the law, not in relaxation of the body” (Magn. 9; ANF. 1)

Of course, this makes Sabbath observance a kind of knowledge peculiar to Christians, who otherwise do not keep the literal Sabbath. In a sense then this knowledge defines a true Christian versus an unbelieving heretic. In a manner that is almost typical of the fourth century, it is this profession of doctrine that ultimately determines one’s status — whether blessed or damned.

While Jewish-Christianity was of course a factor in the first and second centuries, it continued to draw notice throughout the fourth century. Speaking of the contemporary Nazoraeans, Epiphanius describes how they are “still fettered by the law — circumcision, the Sabbath, and the rest,” before declaring them “under a curse” (υπο καταραν) (Pan. 29.7.5,8.1). [3] But his subsequent indictment that they are not of one mind with Christians (χριστιανοις δε μη ομογνωμονουντες) (Pan. 19.7.5), is most telling in suggesting that doctrinal differences concerning Sabbath observance may in fact supply a plausible context for Bezae’s otherwise puzzling reference to the Sabbath worker’s knowledge as what saves or curses his efforts.

So what then is the Sabbath worker to know about his work on the Sabbath? Apparently, he is to know that his physical labors do not detract from the spiritual significance of the Sabbath as the day of rest.


References

[1] Translations mine unless indicated.

[2] See E. Bammel, “The Cambridge Pericope. The Addition to Luke 6.4 in Codex Bezae,” New Testament Studies 32 (1986) 404–426 at 405.

[3] C. J. Hefele, ed., Histoire des conciles, 1/2.1015.

[4] Translation by F. Williams (1987), 117, 118.

Is the “Western” text really “Eastern”?

It is no secret that the so-called “Western” text, as represented by the distinctive readings of its witnesses,* is not at all confined to the West, but rather may be found across a range of geographical and versional contexts, from the Old Syriac and Coptic versions to various Greek traditions associated with Eastern writers, for example, with Origen or Basil of Caesarea.

G. Zuntz put it well:

“The term ‘Western Text’ is a misnomer — everybody knows that. This characteristic form of the Sacred Text, first discovered in Codex Bezae and the Old Latin, is found in Eastern witnesses as well.” [1]

B. Aland and K. Aland observe with some hyperbole:

“The origin of the ‘Western’ text lies anywhere but in the direction its name would suggest.” [2]

But if the “Western” text is “Western” only in its Latin representatives, what are we to think about its origins? Must they lie in the East — whether in Greek or in Syriac?

In fact, if we follow Zuntz, the “Western” text consists of two layers, both with Eastern origins:

  1. First, there is a base layer containing “remnants of the original text,” which being a Greek tradition, presumably derives from the East.
  2. Then, there is a secondary layer representing “the product of retranslation, from the Syriac, of an ecclesiastical adaptation, namely, the lectionary-text of the oldest Church of Edessa,” which of course, being Edessene, must have arisen in the East as well. [3]

According to Zuntz then, the “Western” text form is essentially an “eastern” text form whose most distinctive, secondary elements derive from Syria.

Certainly, there are elements of the “Western” text that seem to demand an Eastern background. At the same time though, it is difficult to overlook the close association of some of the most distinctively “Western” readings with the Old Latin version. Yet since there is no secure evidence of a Latin version before the early third century, to propose a developed “Western” text in the second century all but requires us to place its origins in the East.

But if we postpone the time frame when the elements of the mature “Western” text form came together to the second half of the fourth century, we are now no longer constrained to an Eastern provenance. In fact, with its reputation for Nicene orthodoxy, the West had certain advantages as a promulgator of influence — and perhaps even of textual influence — to the East from the Synod of Alexandria (362) onward, especially from the perspective of the pro-Nicene party.

Thus we find Basil of Caesarea in Cappadocia [!] turning to Rome for assistance in resolving the Antiochian schism:

“to move some of the Italians to undertake a voyage by sea to visit us.” (Epist. 68; NPNF 2.8, 164)

And:

“It has seemed to me to be desirable to send a letter to the bishop of Rome, begging him to examine our condition, and since there are difficulties in the way of representatives being sent from the West by a general synodical decree, to advise him to exercise his own personal authority in the matter by choosing suitable persons to sustain the labours of a journey … to correct the unruly among us here; able to speak with proper reserve and appropriateness, and thoroughly well acquainted with all that has been effected after Ariminum to undo the violent measures adopted there.” (Epist. 69.1; NPNF 2.8, 166)

But should we expect these worthy representatives from the West to have left their gospels in Italy? Would they have stopped at correcting the “unruly” to also correct unruly texts? Would they have spoken with proper “appropriateness” but not appropriately cite from their own orthodox readings?

Of course, we can only speculate as to the potential impact such contact might have had. Yet we may observe one thing with greater confidence, namely, that by the 370’s there was a flow of influence from West to East that was both initiated and received by sympathetic Easterners. In such a context, we can plausibly imagine Latin readings being imported to the region surrounding Antioch and the great library at Caesarea, where it seems witnesses such as Sinaiticus and Bezae might at one point have resided.


References and Notes

* I added the phrase “as represented by the distinctive readings of its witnesses” in response to James Snapp, Jr.’s insightful comment below.

[1] Günther Zuntz, “The Western Text of the Acts of the Apostles” in Opuscula Selecta; Classica, Hellenistica Christiana (Manchester: University Press, 1972) 189–215 at 189.

[2] K. Aland and B. Aland, The Text of the New Testament: An Introduction to the Critical Editions and to the Theory and Practice of Modern Textual Criticism (2d ed.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987) 67.

[3] Zuntz, “Western Text,” 189-190.

Upcoming SBL presentation on Bezae’s “anti-feminist” readings in Acts

I will be presenting at the 2016 SBL Annual Meeting in San Antonio, Texas, on Codex Bezae’s so-called “anti-feminist” readings. According to the online program book, the presentation is currently scheduled for the morning session on Sunday, 20 November. I will approach these primarily “singular” Bezan readings from the perspective of the fourth-century anti-ascetic movement, active in the decade preceding Bezae’s paleographically-assigned date of ca 400 and evidenced, for example, by the Jovinian controversy at Rome in the early 390’s.

The title and abstract are on the SBL site and below:

The ascetic choices of Rome’s aristocratic women and ecclesiastical authority in late fourth-century Rome as a proposed background for Codex Bezae’s “anti-feminist” readings in Acts

The “Western” text of Acts is often cited for a tendency to diminish the visibility and prominence of women, sometimes thought to reflect a second-century context (Schüssler Fiorenza, 1983; Witherington, 1984). But Holmes (2003) observes that at least half of the cited readings are attested only by Codex Bezae, which suggests that they may belong to a narrower layer of variants deriving from a time closer to Bezae’s production in ca. 400 C.E. In this paper, I will argue that specific concerns apparent in these readings are anticipated by critics of the privileged status of sexual asceticism in the Latin West in the final decades of the fourth century, including Helvidius, Jovinian, Filastrius, Vigilantius, and especially Ambrosiaster, whose ostensibly spiritual objections (e.g. charges of Manichaeism) were in part animated by a contest for authority over female lay ascetics of the Roman aristocracy, whose perceived independence was seen as a challenge not merely to the integrity of the household but also to the prerogatives of the male ecclesiastical hierarchy (Clark, 1981; Hunter, 1989). On the one hand, Bezae enhances precedents favorable to arguments against the special prestige of sexual renunciation, such as the apostolic example of marriage and procreation (a point argued by Ambrosiaster and Jovinian), evident in Bezae’s mention of wives and children in the upper room (Acts 1:14) and reinforced by the enlargement of the married Peter’s role over that of the celibate Paul in Bezae’s tradition (Brock, 2003). On the other hand, Bezae’s obfuscation of the conversion accounts of women who are depicted in Acts as making spiritual choices outside the authority structure of the household, such as the public profession of Damaris, apparently unaccompanied by a husband, who chooses to follow Paul, a man who is not her husband (Acts 17:34), accords well with Ambrosiaster’s contention that women possessed the imago Dei only through a male head (Hunter, 1992). These and other parallels suggest that the decades prior to Bezae’s production warrant closer attention as a potential context for its “anti-feminist” readings.

Against reason? Bezae’s Greek text and the possibility of Latin influence

Any close examination of Bezae’s Greek text reveals its unmistakable affinity with the Old Latin version. What prevents us then from considering its text form as a possible revision to an Old Latin model? In fact, variations on this idea of Latin influence were the norm until 1767, when, reversing his former position, J. S. Semler expressed his disapproval of such theories as contrary to reason and precedent:

“concerning Greek codices being influenced and altered to the Latin … [this] is neither according to reason nor precedent, which can be easily proved” [1]

In his notes on J. D. Michaelis’s Introduction, H. Marsh concurs:

“there is no reason whatsoever for ascribing any reading of a Greek manuscript to the influence of the Latin …” [2]

Such was the legacy of Semler, Michaelis, Marsh, and others, that we find F. J. A. Hort equally dismissive of what he called:

“a whimsical theory of the last century, which, ignoring all Non-Latin Western documentary evidence except the handful of extant bilingual uncials, maintained that the Western Greek text owed its peculiarities to translation from the Latin.” [3]

But is it really contrary to reason that a Greek text might be influenced by or even corrected to a Latin version? It seems the only constraint worth considering is whether the participants who produced this text form had reason to prefer Latin readings over Greek.

Jerome versus Ambrosiaster

At the time of Bezae’s production in ca 400, the Old Latin version was clearly well-established in the Latin-speaking church, while the Greek tradition was sometimes viewed with suspicion — especially as an impetus of change to the familiar Old Latin version. Why else would Jerome take such pains to defend his revision to Greek exemplars? And why else would he challenge his opponents to produce a single Latin exemplar from the many divergent copies — no doubt assuming they could never do it? Jerome writes:

“if we are to pin our faith to the Latin texts, it is for our opponents to tell us which; for there are almost as many forms of texts as there are copies.” (Prologue to the Four Gospels)

Surprisingly though, we find one of these opponents, the elusive Ambrosiaster, apparently contemplating Jerome’s challenge, for he suggests three criteria — reason, history, and authority — by which to identify “the true text,” not in the Greek tradition, but in the Old Latin version:

“I consider this to be the true text, when reason, history, and authority are all preserved. For the text that is retained today in the Latin codices is found to be the same in the ancients, Tertullian, Victorinus and Cyprian.” (Comm. Rom 5:14, see my working translation of the entire passage)

When we consider Ambrosiaster, it no longer appears so “whimsical” to imagine Latin versions influencing Greek texts in a properly conducive context.

Ambrosiaster on the Relative Integrity of the Latin Tradition

We might begin with Ambrosiaster’s rather dismal view of (at least) the recent Greek tradition:

“the Greek codices … have discrepancies among themselves, which provoke a spirit of controversy … [such that] those who can prevail by no other means in a dispute take matters into their own hands, changing the words.” (Comm. Rom 5:14)

While there is nothing novel about such claims as the stock-and-trade of heresiological discourse, we should bear in mind here that Ambrosiaster is not directing his accusation at heretics, but presumably at orthodox controversialists, whose tendentious alterations threatened to overwhelm “the true text.”

Considered in this light, Ambrosiaster’s appeal to the integrity of the Latin version is hardly surprisingly:

“it is well-known that very long ago native Latin speakers translated the text we now have from ancient Greek codices” (Comm. Rom 5:14)

Yet his acknowledgment of the “ancient Greek codices” suggests that he regards the initial Greek text as the ultimate authority, though he seems to doubt whether this text is still accessible in the Greek manuscripts of his own time. On the other hand, he seems to think that the Old Latin version might supply access to this ancient text, since in his view, the Greek text available to these translators would have been closer to “the true text” than any recent Greek text.

Of course, for this argument to work Ambrosiaster must somehow show that the Old Latin version is less corrupt than extant Greek texts, a severe difficulty to say the least. After all, how is it possible that after the same period of copying the Old Latin version would be any less corrupt in relation to the ancient Greek text than contemporary Greek codices?

Attempting to address this question, Ambrosiaster makes the rather bold claim that:

“the innocence of former times has safeguarded [this original Latin version] and now certifies [it] to us without corruption.” (Comm. Rom 5:14)

We have to wonder whether Ambrosiaster sincerely believes in this supposed innocence of former times. Perhaps he is simply seeking a rhetorical advantage. Given though that he has already considered criteria to identify “the true text,” it seems he really does believe it. But how?

A possible clue lies in his concern about internecine controversy and its alleged corrupting effect on the Greek text. It may be that he sees this “innocence of former times” in terms of a relatively stable text form that stands in antithesis to the corrupted forms spawned by recent controversies. Perhaps also he sees in this antithesis a distinction between the comparative quiet of the Latin West with its still incipient theological self-awareness and the incessant controversy of the Greek East with its significantly more advanced and varied theological traditions.

The Relative Innocence of the Latin Tradition from Corrupting Controversy

It seems this contrast between East and West offers a promising explanation of the kind of innocence Ambrosiaster claims for the Old Latin version, namely, that it had escaped the corrupting influence of theological controversy as a consequence of its development in the theological backwater of the Latin West. Canon 1 of the Council of Constantinople (381) draws attention to a list of anathematized heresies, which largely affected the Greek East:

every heresy shall be anathematized, particularly that of the Eunomians or [Anomœans, the Arians or] Eudoxians, and that of the Semi-Arians or Pneumatomachi, and that of the Sabellians, and that of the Marcellians, and that of the Photinians, and that of the Apollinarians. (NPNF 2.14, 172)

In fact, the relative “innocence” of the Latin West was apparently taken for granted by contemporary observers in both East and West. Consider Sozomen’s narrative of the post-Nicene period:

“The Church throughout the whole of the West in its entirety regulated itself by the doctrines of the Fathers, and kept aloof from all contentions and hair-splitting about dogma. As to the Eastern Church, … [t]here were some … who were fond of wrangling and battled against the term ‘consubstantial'” (Eccl. Hist. 3.13, NPNF 2.2, p. 291; PL 67.1065-1068).

The “innocence” of the West is still captured in the decades following Ambrosiaster’s dispute with Jerome in a letter from Pope Anastasius to John of Jerusalem (401), in which the former professes his total ignorance, not only of Origen’s writings or their contents, but even of Origen himself:

“As for Origen, whose writings he [Rufinus] has translated into our language, I have neither formerly known, nor do I now seek to know either who he was or what expression he may have given to his thought.” (NPNF 2.3, p. 433; PL 21.629)

Of course, Origen’s speculative theology would have been emblematic of the theological adventurousness of the East.

At the same time, the controversies of the East were carried to Ambrosiaster’s doorstep in Rome in the 370’s, as rival Nicene parties to the Antiochian schism sent repeated envoys to Rome in attempts to bolster their respective claims to the episcopal office. Ambrosiaster would have witnessed firsthand Basil of Caesarea’s persistent correspondence attempting to involve Rome and the bishops of Italy and Gaul in resolving the schism on behalf of Meletius, while the proponents of Paulinus equally persistently subverted his efforts. [4]

Nor could Ambrosiaster have been ignorant of Basil’s depictions of chaos:

“Nearly all the East … from Illyricum to Egypt is being agitated. … The old heresy, sown by Arius … has now boldly and unblushingly reappeared. … [I]n every district the champions of right doctrine have been exiled from their Churches … and the control of affairs has been handed over to men who are leading captive the souls of the simpler [ones].” (Epist. 70, NPNF 2.8, p. 166; PG 32.433-434)

And again:

“It is not only one Church which is in peril, nor yet two or three which have fallen … The mischief of this heresy spreads almost from the borders of Illyricum to the Thebaid. Its bad seeds were first sown by the infamous Arius … souls are drenched in ignorance, because adulterators of the word imitate the truth. … [Yet] in addition to the open attack of the heretics, the Churches are reduced to utter helplessness by the war raging among those who are supposed to be orthodox.” (Epist. 92.1-2, NPNF 2.8, p. 178; PG 32.477-480)

Clearly then, Ambrosiaster’s interest in controversy as a source of variation is no coincidence. At the same time, his opinion of the innocence of the Latin tradition now becomes somewhat understandable — perhaps even reasonable.

What does this mean for Bezan research?

It seems then that we must acknowledge a real possibility that Bezae’s Greek tradition has been molded to one or more strands of the Old Latin version — though not its own Latin column — perhaps as recently as the decades immediately prior to Bezae’s production. Ambrosiaster’s apparent response to Jerome would then suggest one framework in which the correction of a Greek text to a Latin model is not only possible, but also has a clear motive, namely, to preserve gospel traditions in either language that were thought to have been lost in recent Greek manuscripts. Ambrosiaster’s acceptance of the ancient Greek codices as the ultimate authority supplies a viable raison d’être for a corrected Greek text that seeks to reconstruct the ancient Greek Vorlage used by the Old Latin translators.

Of course, in the final analysis, we must carefully distinguish between what our critical knowledge tells us, namely, that such a reconstruction is unlikely to have been achieved in this manner, and the motivation of the participants to make the attempt. Of course, we have no inkling as to whether such a project — if there was such a project — would have been judged a success even by the participants. It seems it could not have been successful, which would of course have left Bezae as a lasting legacy of a bold, creative, yet fundamentally misguided attempt to restore the initial Greek text from an Old Version.


[1] de codicibus graecis ad latinos informatis et mutatis … nec rationibus … nec exemplis luculentis adhuc effectum estApparatus ad liberalem Novi Testamenti interpretationem (1767) 44, my translation.

[2] H. Marsh, “Notes” in J. D. Michaelis, Introduction to the New Testament (trans. H. Marsh; 1802) 2/2:683.

[3] B. F. Westcott and F. J. A. Hort, The New Testament in the Original Greek, Introduction (1882) 120.

[4] M. A. Norton, “Prosopography of Pope Damasus,” Folia 4 (1950), 13–31; 5 (1951), 30–55; 6 (1952), 16–39. Volumes 5 and 6 lay out many of the sources.

The puzzling case of Codex Sinaiticus in John 1-8

A study of Bezae’s text in John 4:1–42 is attractive for a number of reasons. Not only is John 4 the best-preserved chapter in Origen’s monumental Commentary on John, but it is also the first entire chapter of John in which both Codices Sinaiticus (א) and Bezae (D) preserve a so-called “Western” text.

In fact, the textual character of Sinaiticus in John 1-8 is one the fascinating puzzles of textual research in the gospels. Short of actual historical contact with a tradition very much like that of Bezae, it is difficult to explain the remarkable parallels shared by this normally-solid Alexandrian witness with perhaps the most famously divergent of gospel manuscripts.

In his seminal article on the text of Sinaiticus in John, G. Fee focused on John 4 as the most “Western” of the early chapters of John, a situation that has proved convenient for my own study of Bezae’s layering in John 4:1-42. [1] (For details on this study and its method, see this previous post.) In fact, nine of Fee’s thirteen singular agreements between א and D and four of his seven sparsely-attested agreements are included in my data set. (For Fee’s data from John 4:1-42, see this page.)

As seen in the plot below, with points (o, Δ, +, ×, ◊, ∇) representing D’s readings by layer, Fee’s observations corroborate well with Bezae’s layering in John 4:1-42, where as we might expect, readings attested by א, color-coded in violet, exhibit a significant level of correspondence with D’s two Old Latin layers in the two small ellipses at the lower left:

John 4 - 6 clusters with X01 - special circled

Agreements of א and D in John 4:1-42 (in violet) with layers identified as 1. “Transitional” Greek (o), 2. Greek Mainstream (Δ), 3. “Free” Greek (+), 4. Alexandrian (×), 5. African Old Latin (◊), 6. European Old Latin (∇). A selection of witnesses is listed for each reading.

Certainly, א’s correspondence with D’s Old Latin layers stands out against the remaining Greek witnesses, none of which has any significant representation in the Latin layers, while א is represented at half of the eighteen readings apportioned among the two Old Latin layers.

What is perhaps more striking though, is that the four sparsely-attested א-D agreements singled out by Fee (circled in yellow) do not fit cleanly inside any of the other six layers identified in the study, occupying an outlier position at the fringes of the layer boundaries (in fact, on the perimeters of the blue ellipses in layers 1 and 3). Remarkably then, even after we consider the Alexandrian, mainstream, and two Old Latin layers, א still attests an additional residual layer in common with D.

So from these remarkable parallels, can we say anything more about potential contexts for Bezae or its traditions? For a suggestion, we might turn to Bezae’s correctors:

As it turns out in his study of Bezae’s correctors, D. C. Parker notes a “striking” 62.5% (25/40) agreement between Bezae’s Corrector B and Sinaiticus together with its C-group of correctors, specifically the C[a] and C[b2] correctors, whom A. C. Myshrall places in the fifth to sixth centuries, apparently not long after Bezae’s production in ca 400. [2] Noting the possibility that Sinaiticus was in Caesarea at some point in the fifth or sixth centuries, Parker observes:

“there is evidence [from Corrector B] to suggest that Codex Bezae may also have been in Caesarea, or somewhere susceptible to Caesarean influence, at an early stage in its life, perhaps during the fifth century.” [3]

Parker then suggests that Corrector B had access to both a D*/d-like text and a א[c]-like text, whether combined or as individual manuscripts. [4] Of course,  this plausible coincidence of location is just the kind of evidence we need to begin building a historical framework capable of accommodating the multiple shared layers we find in these two unlikely codices in John 1-8.

Yet there remain many questions. For example:

  • Why were only the first eight chapters of John copied in this so-called “Western” text form?
  • Was this a feature of the exemplar?
  • Did the scribe start out correcting from a second “Western” exemplar and lose interest in chapter 8?
  • Did the scribe choose an unauthorized “Western” MS and proceed until discovered and apprehended?
  • Was the pericope adulterae in this “Western” exemplar at John 8?
  • Was a MS chosen specifically because it attested the pericope adulterae without considering its divergent character throughout?
  • Might dissension among producers of the MS over the pericope adulterae explain why the “Western” text form cuts off in chapter 8?

However we address these questions, the situation we find in א seems to reflect a real grappling with a text form much like that of D. This is surprising given what is often considered of D’s isolation in the Greek tradition. It may suggest though that whenever א was produced, whether in Caesarea or elsewhere, D’s tradition held a real attraction among at least some of the participants. We can only ask what brought this to an abrupt halt, as it were, almost in the act of copying.


References

[1] G. D. Fee, “Codex Sinaiticus in the Gospel of John: A Contribution to Methodology in Establishing Textual Relationships,” New Testament Studies 15 (1968) 23–44 at 32.

[2] D. C. Parker, Codex Bezae: An early Christian manuscript and its text (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992) 146; A. C. Myshrall, “Codex Sinaiticus, its Correctors, and the Caesarean Text of the Gospels” (Ph.D. Diss., The University of Birmingham, 2005) 102.

[3] Parker, Bezae, 144-148. But see also on the setting, D. Jongkind, Scribal Habits of Codex Sinaiticus (Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias, 2007) 252-254.

[4] Parker, Bezae, 149.

Can we use papyri to date Bezae’s layers?

In my latest post, I pointed to a hypothesized second-century layer of mainstream readings in Bezae’s text of John 4:1-42. This layer consists of readings whose distinguishing characteristic is agreement with the majority text (‘BYZ’). Yet the agreement of most readings in this mainstream layer with the early papyrus P66 (ca 200) suggests that it must have been in existence by the end of the second century. [1]

Of course, there is nothing surprising about a second-century mainstream layer. We might observe what G. Zuntz referred to as “that great common reservoir” of readings from which all later streams flowed. [2] The difference though, is that one of the streams flowing out of the second century is demonstrably “mainstream” rather than “Western” as Zuntz supposed.

To get a sense of the second-century date by which this layer must have existed, we can plot Bezae’s readings by layer as described in detail in this earlier post. The example below depicts Bezae’s agreements in each of its readings in John 4:1-42, with readings attested by P66 highlighted in red:

[Update: note that the highlighted readings include both initial and probable secondary readings (for a plot of initial vs. secondary readings, see figure 3 at the bottom of this post). Of course, only the latter would date from the second century.]

John 4 - 6 clusters with P66

Figure 1: Bezae’s readings in John 4:1-42 partitioned in six layers with P66 readings in red

For reference, my interpretation of the layers from an earlier post is:

  1. Transitional Greek (8 readings, marked ‘o’)
  2. Mainstream / Byzantine (33 readings, ‘Δ’)
  3. Free Greek (9 readings, ‘+’)
  4. Alexandrian (5 readings, ‘×’)
  5. African Old Latin (8 readings, ‘◊’)
  6. European Old Latin (10 readings, ‘∇’)

The axes correspond to the directions of greatest diversity in the per-witness support for the readings. Intuitively, the left-to-right axis seems to register the closeness of a given reading to the mainstream layer, while the up-down axis seems to register along versional or geographical lines. (Keep in mind though that every reading in the plot is a Bezan reading. The graph merely shows Bezae’s agreements per reading.)

It is clear that the readings attested by P66 are clustered over the far-right ellipse corresponding to a (hypothesized) mainstream layer. If we assume a degree of coherence within the readings of this layer, we may conclude that the layer must have existed by at least the paleographically-assigned date of P66. [3]

To corroborate this result, we can compare the readings of another early witness, in this case Origen, coded in green:

John 4 - 6 clusters with Or

Figure 2: Bezae’s readings in John 4:1-42 partitioned in six layers with Origen’s readings in green

But Bezae’s agreements with Origen are also clustered with the hypothetical mainstream layer at the far right, which is consistent with the result for P66.

[Update: The plot below is color-coded to indicate Bezae’s initial and secondary readings in John 4:1-42:]

John 4 - 6 clusters by level

Figure 3: Bezae’s readings in John 4:1-42 color-coded by estimated local-genealogical level (yellow = initial, green = secondary, red = tertiary)

[Update: The complete list of readings per layer is downloadable as a PDF or listed here. Look for the “Level” column, which estimates whether the reading is initial or secondary according to the local genealogical principle.]


[1] I would like to acknowledge Tim Joseph, whose comment alerted me to the potential problem in designating this layer “BYZ”, which could imply that its readings are Byzantine.

[2] Günther Zuntz, The Text of the Epistles; A Disquisition Upon the Corpus Paulinum (London, 1953) 265. For Zuntz, the two streams are “Alexandrian” and “Western”.

[3] In a recent post on his blog, Timothy Mitchell mentions an article in JBL that reconsiders the date of P66.

[Correction: Timothy Mitchell has kindly pointed out my bibliographical error in footnote [3]. The P66 article is actually in Museum Helveticum:

Brent Nongbri, “The Limits of Palaeographic Dating of Literary Papyri: Some Observations on the Date and Provenance of P.Bodmer II (P66),” Museum Helveticum 71 (2014) 1-35.

The article in JBL will discuss P75:

Brent Nongbri, “Reconsidering the Place of Papyrus Bodmer XIV–XV (P75) in the Textual Criticism of the New Testament,” Journal of Biblical Literature 135 (2016) 405–437.

Thank you, Timothy!]