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.


[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.


[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)


“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.