Sectarian Judaism and the Rise of Messianic Expectation

That Christianity emerged originally as a sect of Judaism is an undisputed fact of history. What has also come to light in past decades among scholars, is that Judaism was not just one united religion with one set of views. The Judaism in which Christianity arose was highly sectarian and there were numerous individual sects that all had different interpretations.

There was a set of core values or beliefs held by Jews universally, but even then, the interpretation of those values varied upon sect/community.

Key Ideas and Institutions:

I. Israel’s Covenant with God

It was universally accepted that God had chosen Israel and its’ people and made a special covenant with them. Granted, different sects had various opinions on what that meant.

II. Torah Law

The law of the Torah was accepted as important and a staple of Judaism. That being said, different sects had different views regarding how to keep Torah, and which laws were more important.

III. Temple: Sacrificial Worship

The temple was seen as a foundational institution in Judaism. Inside the temple, every year the high priest would perform the atonement sacrifice (see Leviticus 16). However, even then some sects of Judaism had different attitudes regarding the temple and some thought they should get rid of the temple all together. Many early Christians including Mark, Matthew, and Luke shared this belief. Because of that, they created the passion narrative of Jesus to reflect the atonement ritual as the ultimate sacrifice that would atone the sins of Israel forever, removing the need for the temple.

IV. Anticipated Restoration of Israel

After king Solomon, the united kingdom of Israel split. Much like the American civil war, the southern part of Judah split from the norther kingdom of Israel. With the kingdom divided, and given Judea’s location, soon the Syrians came in and conquered Israel. Judah (the south) was promptly conquered by the Babylonians. The Babylonians came in and completely took over, destroying Jerusalem and the temple and then exiled the Jews.

In 539BCE however, the Persians came in and beat back the Babylonians and took over Judea, allowing the Jews to return. Once there they began rebuilding the temple and the Second Temple Era started. 

The Persian rule of Judea lasted about 200 years before Alexander of Macedonia came in and conquered. Alexander’s empire spanned from Egypt, to the Levant, and all of Persia. Alexander however, died young in 323BCE. After his death, Alexander’s empire was divided among his generals. The Ptolemies took Egypt and Judea while the Seleucids took Persia and Babylon. In 189 however, the Seleucids took Judea from the Ptolemies.

In 175, Antiochus Epiphanies became king and in 167, Antiochus banned certain Jewish practices. Jews were no longer able to observe certain parts of their religion such as circumcision (an identifying marker). While some Jews were accepting and didn’t ming assimilating to the dominant culture, other Jews got really pissed off.

Antiochus’s persecution of Jews; including placing a statue of a Pagan god inside the temple, ultimately prompted the Maccabean revolt and the eventual rise of an independent Judean dynasty, the Hasmoneans. 

The revolt was successful and the Seleucids were pushed out out Judea. The temple was rededicated and the Hasmoneans ruled for almost 100 years. 

Though their rule was not without controversy. The family made themselves the high priest in 150 which upset many because the high priest was not a Zadokite as the high priest traditionally was. This caused inner conflicts for years to follow.

Eventually though, luck ran out and in 63BCE, the Roman general Pompey came in and kicked ass and Judea came under Roman rule.

During all this time however, there was growing sentiment among Jews that God would honor his covenant and would someday restore the kingdom of Israel and drive out enemy forces. This in part caused the emergence of messianic hope among Jews. The messiah, in many Jewish circles, would be a descendant of David (the first king of Israel) and would lead them to victory over their adversaries and reestablish Israel.

Mostly, the messiah was not thought of to be divine, although certain sects did expect a divine messiah as is noted in a few texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls. By and large however, this messiah was not divine. He was suppose to be a human who would kick ass and for lack of a better phrase, ‘make Israel great again.’ 

So even with this, there are various opinions on Israel’s restoration. For some it would be through military power. For others, it would be an eschatological event, meaning that God would soon intervene and restore Israel in an apocalyptic sense. This is most likely the camp that Jesus fell into. Jewish apocalypticism grew out of the constant suffering of Israel getting kicked around by neighboring armies, and the hope that someday God would restore the kingdom. In 67CE the first Jewish war against Rome took place as Jews rose up to fight. That didn’t end well for them and once again Jerusalem was sacked and the temple was destroyed––this time never to be rebuilt. In 132CE the second Jewish war took place, led by a man called, Simon bar Kochba, who claimed to be the messiah. What is interesting to note here is that even after Jesus lived and died and the Jesus movement began, there were still people claiming to be the messiah. That is because by and large, most Jews were anticipating the messiah to be a military badass who would rise up with weapons and beat back the Romans––like what Simon tried to do––not an apocalyptic prophet who got himself executed by the very people he was suppose to defeat (i.e. Jesus). Sadly for Simon, his effort was squashed and the Romans maintained their rule over Israel.

The point of all this is to demonstrate how these events played into Jewish apocalypticism, and messianic expectations. Jesus saw himself as a prophet proclaiming the imminent coming of the son of man who would come down from heaven (MK 13.26) and drive out the Romans. From there God would establish his kingdom of heaven and Jesus would appointed the ruler of that kingdom, along with the twelve who would sit on the twelve thrones (MT 19.28, LK 22.30)

There were different expectations of the kingdom’s restoration. For some, like Jesus, it would be an eschatological event. For others, like Simon, it would be a military revolution. 

All this goes to illustrate the point that during this time, Judaism was very sectarian. This is crucial history in relation to the rise of the Jesus movement and Christianity.

–M

Did Mark Know of the Temple’s Destruction?

In an early post I wrote about the dating of Mark’s gospel. The current consensus among New Testament scholars is that Mark was composed around 67-70 CE. There are competing theories that Mark was composed sometime around 80-85, as well as one theory I know of which states that Mark was written in the mid 40s. Neither of those are widely accepted among scholars, especially the latter. 

I do find the theory proposed by T.J. Weeden, that the passion narrative of Jesus is based on the death of Jesus ben Ananias in Josephus’s Jewish War to be somewhat convincing. The Jewish War was written in 75CE and if Weeden is correct, that certainly would put Mark close to 80 or 85. While Weeden does make a strong case for that, since it is the only theory I have read which dates Mark after 75, I can only conclude so much.

For the time being, as an undergraduate who was taught the traditional dates of the gospels (MK: 70, MT: 85, LK: 95) I will accept the 67-70 dating. One of the reasons for this (that I explained in the other post) is the destruction of the temple in 70CE.

Right smack in the middle of the Jewish War against Rome, the Roman armies seized Jerusalem and destroyed the temple––putting an end to the Second Temple Era (it was never rebuilt). Yet what gives me a reasonable amount of confidence that Mark was written just before 70 is his account of the temple’s destruction.

In Mark 13, Jesus predicts the temple’s destruction (13.2). In 13.9-13 Jesus foretells of the persecution of his followers. “Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; 13 and you will be hated by all because of my name. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.” (13.12-13)

In 13.14, Jesus shares when all these things he predicted will happen:

“But when you see the desolating sacrilege set up where it ought not to be, then those in Judea must flee to the mountains.”

This is most likely a reference to the Book of Daniel which talks about the “abomination of desolation” (see 9.27, 11.13, 12.11). Jesus is saying that when “the desolating sacrilege is set up where it ought not be” at that moment all hell will break lose and God will send the son of man to come in a drive out the forces of evil and restore his kingdom. Even though Mark writes in Jesus identifying that event as the beginning of the end, he is incredibly ambiguous as to what that event will be. It could be that the Romans will literally set up something sacrilegious inside the temple, it could be that they will take over the temple and turn it into a pagan temple. Or perhaps, the Romans will completely destroy the temple (they did). But Mark does not give an actual event. He gives us no details or specifics other than that ‘the desolating sacrilege will be set up where it ought not be.’ Something will happen that will put everything in motion, but Mark is not sure what.

Contrast that with Luke’s version of the same story:

“When you see Jerusalem surrounded by armies, then know that its desolation has come near. Then those in Judea must flee to the mountains, and those inside the city must leave it, and those out in the country must not enter it” (Luke 21.20-21)

Notice that Luke carefully redacts Mark’s version to add in the Roman sieging of the Jerusalem. Mark did not include any details, whereas Luke did. This implies two things: 1) Mark did not know of these events occurring, and 2) Luke did know about them. Mark does not narrate anything happening to the temple other than say that something having to do with the temple will happen. Luke edits Mark to say that the Romans will surround Jerusalem, which they did in 70 and then went on to destroy the temple. Mark tells us that some desolation will happen. Luke tells us what that desolation was.

So in my opinion, Luke knows what happened, and he is aware of the temple’s destruction. Mark is not aware of these things happening and thus he does not have any narration of this. What that means as far as the date of Mark’s composition is that it was probably written around 70 (67-70), prior to the destruction of the temple, with Luke being written after its’ destruction (usually dated at 95-100CE).

–M

On Dating Mark’s Gospel

The dating of the gospels was a question scholars faced early on when applying historical-critical method to the Bible. Since then a consensus has emerged as to when each gospel was most likely composed. In general, what most students will learn whether at a university for an undergraduate New Testament course, or in seminary is that Mark was written around 65-75CE, Matthew was written around 80-85CE, and Luke was written around 95-100CE with John being written later near 110-120CE. This is what I was taught in my intro to the Bible class last year and it’s what mainstream scholars accept as a presupposition in their studies. 

Recently I had an exchange in the comment section on YouTube regarding the dating of the gospels. The user I responded to had some very interesting thoughts on the dates in which they were probably written. Essentially he had them all shifted forward about 10 years later than the traditional dating. For the purposes of this post I’ll only focus on Mark. 

I am aware of scholarly arguments placing the composition of Mark at an early date, somewhere between 35-45CE such as James Crossley’s The Date of Mark’s Gospel: Insight from the Law in Earliest Christianity. Crossley argued that after the mid-40s, gentile and Jewish Christians did not observe some of the Biblical law such as dietary restrictions and the keeping of the sabbath. Crossley’s point is that Mark takes Jesus’ observance of the law for granted and that this judgement could only be established during a period when “Christians” (still Jews at the time) were largely following the law. He suggests that the typical reasons for a 66CE+ dating including allusions to the first Jewish war, Neronian persecutions can also be seen through the lens of the Caligula Crisis of the mid-30s. I have not read Crossley’s writing in total but would be interested in doing so. Overall I find his case unconvincing and the reviews I’ve read echoed the same sentiment; that it’s an important work that raises valid concerns, but ultimately they were not convinced. 

I have heard of other proposals that set Mark at a later date than is traditional agreed upon by most scholars, but have never read any of them. 

I myself, following Dale Martin, contend (at least for now) that Mark was most likely written in 70CE or right before, prior to the destruction of the temple. The main reason for this is that Mark in his gospel, does not narrate the destruction of the temple. In Mark Jesus only predicts it. If Mark was written long after 70, then it seems curious that he didn’t add a narration of the temple’s destruction. Jesus predicts some abomination of desolation happening in the temple, but we don’t know of any historical event yet. There’s no narration of anything that actually happened. As Martin notes, Luke edits the passage of Mark to add in the destruction of the temple. Mark does not include that part because Mark does not know that it’s been destroyed yet. 

With that in mind, it should be noted that Theodore J. Weeden makes a very strong case for Mark’s reliance on Josephus’ The Jewish War which was composed in 75CE. If that is the case, then that would place Mark’s composition at at least 75CE or later. Weeden’s case is that Mark borrowed elements of Josephus’ account of Jesus ben Ananias to help construct his crucifixion narrative.

Weeden notes that both Jesus of Nazareth of Jesus ben Ananias entered Jerusalem during time of religious festivities, and both proclaimed the downfall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple. Both were arrested by the local Jewish authorities, handed over to and questioned by the Roman governor. 

Reading the Jewish War, Josephus depicts Jesus ben Ananias as a “rude peasant.” He had no skills, no professional knowledge and was essentially an uneducated lower class nobody. Weeden says that Mark also depicts Jesus as coming from a similar background. He describes Jesus (of Nazareth) as a “carpenter,” which was among the lowest classes in society at the time. 

Both Josephus’ and Mark’s Jesus are described by others in their respective narratives as unhinged maniacs. Both spend extensive time teaching or protesting in the temple. Both are accused of making inflammatory comments regarding the temple. Both conceal their identity during their questioning by the Roman governor. Both are killed by the Romans (ben Ananias by a stone launched from a Roman catapult, and Jesus of Nazareth by crucifixion). 

Overall Weeden identifies 22 parallels between Jesus ben Ananias as recorded by Josephus and Jesus as depicted by Mark. Weeden concludes that while it is possible they are mere coincidences, that given the total of 22 parallels between the two cannot simply be dismissed as coincidences.

Weeden writes in one post that:

If there was such a person as Jesus, son of Ananias, and if he did harangue against the Temple for almost seven and a half years, then such a story may well have become well enough known and have developed into a sufficiently stable oral form such that Josephus and Mark both had access to it. If that be the case, then it appears that the story of Jesus, son of Ananias, may well have served as a model for Mark to develop a good part of, or at least an outline for, significant elements of his passion narrative, as well as providing other motifs which Mark found helpful in fleshing out his story of Jesus of Nazareth.

To see the full case laid out by Dr. Weeden, see his works; Mark: Traditions in Conflict, and his article, “Two Jesuses, Jesus of Jerusalem and Jesus of Nazareth: Provocative Parallels and Imaginative Imitation.”

Weeden makes a great case for Mark’s use of Josephus for his gospel which as he a post citing other scholarship says would push the date of composition for Mark back to at least 79CE which is outside the window of the mainstream view on Mark’s composition, 65-75CE. While I still for the time being side with Martin’s dating of 70CE, I find both Crossley and Weeden’s cases to be very strong and will enjoy looking further into this.

–M

Mark’s Passion Narrative in its Greco-Roman Context––Some Brief Observations

The historicity of the gospels is a topic that has been an interest of mine for quite some time now. In general, following the scholarship of people like Carrier, Crossan, and Price, I take the gospels to be extended parables about Jesus. While I do not maintain Carrier’s position that there was no historical Jesus, nonetheless, that the gospels are generally fiction in their nature is mainstream New Testament scholarship. The stories about Jesus in the gospels can be understood in their context as rewrites of Old Testament stories, stories modeled after the Greek epics (of which the authors would have been well versed in), and syncretism between Pagan and Jewish religious elements. 

The stories of focus for this post are the crucifixion and resurrection narratives. In a previous post I outlined briefly why I think the passion narrative is fiction (other than the fact that there was a guy named Jesus who was executed by the Romans, not the Jews, for political treason). There my basic contentions were that 1. the entirety of the trial scene cannot be established as history since a) Pilate and the Romans frequently executed enemies of the state without trial, and b) even if there was a trial, the disciples of Jesus as peasants would have never been allowed to witness the trial and thus we cannot know what happened during the trial. 2. The story of Barabbas in Mark is clearly a literary myth composed to model the atonement sacrifice found in Leviticus 16.

Certain sects of Judaism at this time wanted to get rid of the Temple and as such felt they needed a much greater sacrifice than the annual goat ritual. So Jesus is modeled after the scapegoat that was sacrificed during Yom Kippur every year to be the ultimate sacrifice to god to atone for all sins forever. Also, Jesus sacrifice can in many ways been seen as reflecting the sacrifice of Isaac. Abraham was about to sacrifice his son to atone for sins, and then god steps in and says basically, ‘no, I can see that you would, and for that I can tell you’re loyal. This was a test.  Use animals to sacrifice instead.’ Interestingly, the name, Abraham means ‘father of many’ and is rooted the word ‘Abba’ which means father. By this, the sacrifice of Isaac can be loosely seen as the sacrifice of the ‘son of the father [of many]’. If this was the first sacrifice (even though it ultimately did not occur), the sacrifice of Jesus, the son of the father, can be seen as the final sacrifice. This is clear literary artistry.

The resurrection is bit harder to establish as non-historical but is equally near impossible to establish as historical. This is where the modern historian cannot access whether or not the resurrection happened as it would be a miracle. Historians can only determine what most probably happened in the past. Since a miracle by definition is the least probable it cannot be concluded that it probably happened since by definition it probably didn’t. That’s where the aspect of faith comes into play. Since I’m not studying to be a theologian or a minister I won’t really comment on the faith aspect. 

When assessing the passion narrative, it’s important not just to highlight the ancient Jewish parallels, but also the Greco-Roman parallels. Since Christianity, as I have explained in previous posts, began as a syncretic blend of Hellenistic and Jewish elements, it is important to understand the literary elements of the stories that are modeled after Greek literature as well. 

Not only does Barabbas represent the goat in the atonement ritual that is released into the wild, and Jesus represent the goat that is slaughtered in the temple to atone for the sins of Israel, there are Greek characters beings represented in Mark 15 as well.

In Homer’s Odyssey, we are told a story of a beggar named Arnaeus. Pretty much, Arnaeus was a giant oaf who ate and drank like there was no tomorrow. He was also nicknamed Irus, the male form of Iris who was the messenger of the gods because he would deliver messages whenever anyone asked him to. In the Odyssey there is a story where Odysseus encounters Irus in a hall and Irus tells Odysseus to leave. Basically, Irus wants more food to himself even though there was plenty of food for both of them. The suitors who were their insisted the two fight over it and they all backed Irus over Odysseus. The two duke it out and with one blow Odysseus K.O.s Irus. After Odysseus easily wins the fight, the suitors toast him and wish him good fortune, “even though now you have many hardships.” 

Irus is a good model for Barabbas because in both instances you have a rough, cutthroat kind of guy who has a symbolic name (Irus–> Iris–>messenger of the gods. Barabbas–> bar Abba–> son of the father), who encounters the ‘hero’ of the story (Odysseus, Jesus), and is favored by the locals. In the Odyssey, the suitors favor Irus to Odysseus, and in Mark 15, the Jewish crowd favors Barabbas to Jesus. After that, the suitors toast Odysseus wishing him success, blindly unaware that later in the story Odysseus’s success would ultimately come at the expense of the suitors. In Mark 15.18-19, the soldiers mock Jesus praising him as the king and bowing before him, blindly unaware that later in the story Jesus actually was the king and would gain victory over death. This is literary borrowing and literary irony at its finest. 

While the Odyssey appears to be a huge source that Mark used to model his narrative after,  it appears, again following the research of MacDonald, that the Iliad was certainly Mark’s source for which to model the death of Jesus after. That Mark would have been familiar with the Iliad is almost certain and there are numerous parallels between the death of Hector in the Iliad 22 and the death of Jesus in Mark 15. I’ll go over a few parallels now but to really see all the literary borrowing read Il 22 and Mk 15 back to back. 

In Iliad 22 Hector engages in a fight which he ultimately ends up losing. Elements of Homeric fights in the Iliad include trash talking between the two opponents. This taunting can be seen paralleled in the crowd mocking Jesus on the cross. In the Iliad, there is a challenge to the opponent to kill him if the gods grant it:

“You were a false tongued liar when you deemed that I should forget my valor and quail before you. You shall not drive your spear into the back of a runaway! Drive it, should a god so grant you power, drive it in me as a charge straight toward you!”

In Mark we see the same kind of taunting directed at Jesus by the crowd as he hangs on the cross, as the crowd mockingly asks him to save himself if he is truly the son of god (if god grants it):

“Aha! Destroyer of the sanctuary and builder of it in three days, rescue yourself by coming down from the cross! […] He saved others; he cannot save himself. Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.”

In both instances there is a reference to something promised that appears to be false. In the Iliad Hector arrogantly calls Achilles as liar for saying he should ‘forget his valor and qual before him.’ In Mark, the Jews arrogantly accuse Jesus of lying about destroying the temple and rebuilding it. Then, in both cases there is a charge do save themselves if the powers of the gods (or god) grants it. Hector calls on Achilles to kill him if the gods grant it. In Mark, the Jews call on Jesus to come down from the cross if he is really god’s son, or if god grants it. 

Prior to Hector’s death Zeus passes judgement that he must die. Hector becomes aware that his gods had abandoned him and sealed his fate. In Mark we get a similar tale; Jesus on the cross cries out, “My God, my God! Why have you abandoned me?” The darkening of the sky is interpreted as God abandoning Jesus and sealing his fate. Another parallel is that during Jesus arrest, his disciples took off and left him. In the Iliad, all of Hector’s soldiers flee and hide behind the city walls. So in both instances, not only do their followers leave them, but so do their gods, securing their death as a foregone conclusion. 

Lastly, following Hector’s death, the Trojans mourned as their city had been destroyed “from top to bottom.” After Jesus’ death, the curtain in the temple is ripped in half “from top to bottom.” The same language is used and thus it can be interpreted as a direct parallel. A second interpretation of this can be explained using Jewish theology. The Jews (or at least certain sects of Judaism) wanted to remove the temple and get rid of the annual atonement sacrifice. In the temple, the curtain separated the holy of holies and the secular. The holy of holies was believed to be where the spirit of god dwelt. Once a year during Yom Kippur, the priest entered the holy of holies to perform the atonement sacrifice to god. With the death of Jesus symbolizing the ultimate atonement sacrifice to atone sins forever, the curtain tearing in half represents the end of the need for the temple. Now there was no longer any need for the temple, the atonement sacrifice, or the holy of holies as Jesus’ death forgave sins forever and god had no excuse to not establish the new kingdom (which was always put off due to the sins of Israel). The curtain ripping in half means that god is now everywhere and can openly bring justice and restore his kingdom. 

As has been shown, temple and atonement theology played a crucial role in constructing the narrative of the passion. Yet so to did the Greek epics and the stories of Odysseus and Hector. The influence of the Greek epics on early Christianity and the gospel stories can be found throughout the entirety of the gospels. Understanding this helps one to appreciate even more the brilliance of the gospel writers and how amazingly and carefully composed the gospels really are. To conclude; Jesus passion as told by Mark can best be understood as a rebranding of Old Testament stories as well as stories crafted from literary borrowing of Greek epics widely known throughout the Roman empire. 

–M

Food for Thought: The Baptism of Jesus Through a Greek Lens

I am currently reading an article from Harvard Theological Review by Adela Collins who has become one of my favorite scholars this semester. The article is titled, Mark and His Readers: The Son of God Among Greeks and Romans and deals with how the gentile audience of Mark would have interpreted the stories of Jesus. A very interesting read so far.

I have followed the scholarship of Bultmann, Crossan, and  Peppard in understanding the baptism scene depicted in Mark 1.9-11, as myth (or as Crossan prefers, parabolic). Collins has the same take away, yet whereas Peppard, and Collins for that matter, have suggested that the baptism scene can be interpreted as reflecting an enthronement ceremony for a king, in this article Collins provides another way to look at the text.

Collins sets up her interpretation by citing ancient biographies of the poets Aesop and Archilochus. In the account of Aesop, which can be found in Lloyd W. Daly’s Aesop without Morals, he is depicted early as a very ugly slave who is incapable of talking because of a sever speech impediment. Early on though, he is described as helping a priestess of Isis. As a way of saying thank you, the priestess grants him the ability to speak. Then nine Muses give him the power to come up with brilliant stories as well as giving him the power of great speech.

In the story of Archilochus, he is taking a cow to the market at night. There he is met by a group of women who offer to buy the cow and promise to give him a good price. Upon the closing of the deal both the cow and then women disappear and Archilochus finds a lyre on the ground. He then realizes that the women he saw were actually Muses. This story is intended as a miraculous experience revealing to Archilochus that he would become a great poet.

Collins brings it all together in really interesting way by writing:

Like Archilochus,theJesus of Mark has an experience that transformshim and prepareshim for his life’s work. Archilochusexperiencedan epiphanyor vision of the Muses, who enabled him to be a poet; Jesus sees the heavens open and hearsthe divine voice address him as beloved son. As Aesop was given gifts of wise speech by Isis and the Muses, Jesus is endowed with the divine spiriton this occasion, the power that enables him to teach with authority, to heal, and to cast out demons.

Collins notes that the Greek and Roman audiences of Mark would have surely recognized this as a literary theme used in other ancient biographies and would have understood the intent of the story.

As I have argued in previous posts, Mark’s gentile audience would have easily heard these stories about Jesus and seen him in context as being analogous to Greek poets, heroes, and great rulers.

So that’s just something I noticed that I thought I would effectively ‘book mark’ by blogging about. Really interesting stuff.

-M

Son of God Titulature in the Roman Empire

That Jesus was referred to by his followers after his death as the son of god may seem to modern audiences as a unique and extraordinary feature, to those in the Roman empire in which he lived, it would not sound special or unusual at all. In fact, to the people who would have heard and been aware of the stories that circulated about Jesus and his assigned title of ‘son of god,’ they have a solid understanding of what that meant.

Calling Jesus the son of god has both religious and political ramifications. At the time Jesus and his early followers lived, the title ‘son of god’ was generally reserved for the emperor. Beginning with the deification of Julius Caesar after his death he became Divus Ilius (the divine Julius) and was declared the god of Rome. With that, his adopted son and successor, Octavian (later Augustus) was referred to during his life as Divi Filius or son of god. In 27 BCE, Augustus was formally deified and his adopted son and successor, Tiberius claimed the title ‘son of god sebastos.’  Though Tiberius was never formally deified by the Roman senate he is still referred to as son of god sebastos on various coinage and inscriptions. Another fun fact about Tiberius is that he was emperor from 14 BCE to 37 CE, right when the Jesus movement occurred and his early followers began their cult.

Later on, Claudius who reigned during Paul’s ministry from 41–54 CE was deified and his successor and son Nero called himself son of god Caligula. By this it is quite apparent that the title ‘son of god’ is not unique to the world in which Jesus lived. Even then, many Greek gods, and heroes are referred to as the son of god, as well as the king of Israel. Early Christians, including Paul and his followers would have been aware of this titulature within the empire and thus giving Jesus the same title has both theological and political implications.

Marcus Borg writes in his book Jesus:

The collision between Roman imperial theology and domination and the Jewish social world led to a variety of Jewish responses. […] Some harbored hopes for an imminent dramatic divine intervention: God would soon act and set things right. Others––and these responses often overlapped––were determined to preserve Jewish identity in spite of the pressure to assimilate.”

Clearly there was growing resistance and opposition by Jews to the Roman occupation. That combined with apocalyptic philosophy at the time lead to a restoration of messianic hopes. As I have explained in previously posts, it is my contention that Jesus did call himself the messiah during his life, but that he meant it in an apocalyptic sense.

Divine birth narratives, miracles stories and the title son of god were nothing new to the empire and in fact were well established and abundantly used in stories/biographies of emperors, gods, and heroes. On top of that there was growing anti-Roman sentiment among the Jews which resulted in the Jewish war with Rome that spanned from 66-73.

Given all that, plus the messianic hopes of the Jews and apocalypticism of Jesus and his followers, this mimicry can be seen as a blatant challenge to Roman authority by dismissing the emperor and uplifting a Jewish prophet. Following the crucifixion of Jesus, his earliest followers came to believe that he had been raised from the dead, proving that he was in favor with God and that he had exalted Jesus into divinity, adopting him as his son. This is how many other Greek and Roman gods and heroes attained their divinity. Thus the statement that Jesus is the son of god is more than simply a profession of faith, it is also a political challenge to the imperial ideology of Rome. By calling Jesus the son of god early Christians are bolding proclaiming “Jesus is Lord, not Caesar.” While Augustus was called the ‘savior’ by Romans, for early Christians Jesus was the real savior.

Books and Articles consulted:

Marcus Borg, Jesus: Jesus: The Life, Teachings, and Relevance of a Religious Revolutionary

Dio Cassius, History of Rome, book 44

John & Adela Collins, Kind and Messiah as Son of God

Peppard Michael, The Eagle and the Dove (New Test. Studs. vol 56)

Robert L. Mowrey, Son of God in Roman Imperial Titles and Matthew (Biblica vol. 83)

–M

Polytheism of Ancient Jews and Early Christians

One point that is frequently missed by many is that ancient Judaism can in many ways be classified as “polytheistic.” That the Greeks and Romans were polytheistic is a defining element of Greco-Roman religions during antiquity. The only difference for ancient Judaism, and why it sounds strange to identify them as such, is that the Jews were henotheistic. Henotheism is defined as; “the belief in and worship of a single god while accepting the existence or possible existence of other deities that may also be served.” This means that the Jews would have recognized the Greek and Roman gods, while still worshiping their god, Yahweh (יהוה‎), exclusively.

The Yahweh cult actually began in ancient Judah as a polytheistic cult, but shifted to monotheism overtime. The Jews at least recognizing other gods however, did not entirely go away and carried over in many respects into the first century. Even Paul, when writing to the churches in Corinth alludes to ancient Jewish polytheism (henotheism):

4 Hence, as to the eating of food offered to idols, we know that “no idol in the world really exists,” and that “there is no God but one.” 5 Indeed, even though there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth—as in fact there are many gods and many lords— 6 yet for us there is one God (1 Corinthians 8.4-6)

So it is evident that the Jews did share the Greek’s religious concept of polytheism, they just chose to only worship Yahweh. In the last verse he flat out admits that other gods exist, but for them, it’s just Yahweh who gets worshiped.

Another textual instance where Paul, himself a Jew, acknowledges other gods existence is in 2 Corinthians 4.4 where he talks about “the God of this world,” which has been established as Satan (a theme which was later picked up in the late Christian writing, The Ascension of Isaiah, when it mentions “the god of that world,” who is ruler of the lower firmament and everything below the moon). [1]

Also alluding to this notion, Fredriksen notes that, “they [the Jews] knew that heaven and earth held other, lower and divine personalities and forces as well,” and that in certain situations these other divine personalities were definitely acknowledged by them. [2]

Ehrman points out in his book that similar to the Greeks and Romans ancient Jews, still believed in immortal divine beings of lesser status but  “who were far greater in power than humans.” Today however, as Judaism is monotheistic, these are known as angels and archangels. This group of lower level divinities also included the cherubim and the seraphim. [3]

So it is not entirely unreasonable say that ancient Jews and first century Jews (technically still ancient Jews I guess), were in some sense polytheists. They simply worshiped one God, while still entertaining the existence of other Gods.

One final point on this matter, is that in 1 Cor. 8.6 Paul finishes his sentence by saying, “yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist.” If Jews during that time did still acknowledge other gods and held that there were other divinities of lower status than Yahweh, it’s possible this passage is establishing a subordinate christology of Jesus. Paul is saying that Jesus, while highly revered (and certainly Paul believed Jesus was divine), he is not God. Paul says that there is one God and one Lord, making a clear distinction between the two. So Paul could be saying that Jesus is a lower level divinity, much like for the Romans, the emperor was a lower level divinity than Jupiter. While the emperor was certainly believed by the Romans to be divine, he was not Jupiter and was subordinate. Paul could be setting up the same kind of system for Jesus’ in relation to God. Jesus is divine, he is Lord, but he is not God the father or on par with.

Just some interesting food for thought.

[1] Carrier, Richard. On the Historicity of Jesus: Why We May Have Reason for Doubt. Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Phoenix Press. 2013.

[2] Fredriksen, Paula. Augustine and the Jews: A Christian Defense of Jews and Judaism. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. 2010.

[3] Ehrman, Bart. The New Testament: A Historical Introduction to the Early Christian Writings. New York, NU: Oxford University Press. 2015.