Some Notes on Athanasius' 39th Festal Letter (AD 367)

 39th Festal Letter

 

There are, then, of the Old Testament, twenty-two books in number; for, as I have heard, it is handed down that this is the number of the letters among the Hebrews; their respective order and names being as follows. The first is Genesis, then Exodus, next Leviticus, after that Numbers, and then Deuteronomy. Following these there is Joshua, the son of Nun, then Judges, then Ruth. And again, after these four books of Kings, the first and second being reckoned as one book, and so likewise the third and fourth as one book. And again, the first and second of the Chronicles are reckoned as one book. Again Ezra, the first and second are similarly one book. After these there is the book of Psalms, then the Proverbs, next Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs. Job follows, then the Prophets, the twelve being reckoned as one book. Then Isaiah, one book, then Jeremiah with Baruch, Lamentations, and the epistle, one book; afterwards, Ezekiel and Daniel, each one book. Thus far constitutes the Old Testament. (NPNF2 4:552)

 

Note:

 

Athanasius excludes the book of Esther

Athanasius includes the book of Baruch

 

 

Athanasius’s exclusion of Esther and inclusion of Baruch in the canonical category may reflect Jewish practice. For example, Melito of Sardis omitted Esther from the books accepted by the Jews in Palestine, and Epiphanius of Salamis states that Baruch was still read in the synagogues of his day. (Gary Michuta, Why Catholic Bibles are Bigger [rev ed.; El Cajon, Calif.: Catholic Answers Press, 2017], 345 n. 193)

 

Melito of Sardis (d. c. 170), Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, 4, 26, 12-14

 

“Melito to his brother Onesimus, greeting: since you have often, in your zeal for the word, expressed a wish to have extracts made from the law and the prophets concerning the Saviour and concerning our entire Faith, and have also desired to have an accurate statement of the ancient books, as regards their numbers and their order, I have endeavoured to perform the task, knowing your zeal for the Faith, and your desire to gain information in regard to the word, and knowing that you, in your yearning after God, esteem these things above all else, struggling to attain eternal salvation. Accordingly when I went east and came to the place where these things were preached and done, I learned accurately the books of the Old Testament, and send them to you as written below. Their names are as follows: of Moses, five books: Genesis, Exodus, Numbers, Leviticus, Deuteronomy; Jesus Nave, Judges, Ruth; of Kings, four books; of Chronicles, two; the Psalms of David, the Proverbs of Solomon, Wisdom also, Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, Job; of Prophets, Isaiah, Jeremiah; of the twelve prophets, one book; Daniel, Ezekiel, Esdras. From which also I have made extracts, dividing them into six books.”

 

Such as the words of Melito.

 

Melito’s list omits the book of Lamentations, Nehemiah and Esther—it is possibly even includes the book of Wisdom. Even if Lamentations and Nehemiah are present (being included in other books), as some have argued, the omission of Esther remains unaccountable. Later Christian lists of the rabbinic canon will also point to doubts concerning Esther. (Michuta, Why Catholic Bibles are Bigger, 336 n. 126)

 

Some argue that Melito could not have had contact with the synagogue because dialogue between Jews and Christians had all but ceased due to tensions between the two groups. Antagonism indeed existed, but dialogue did nevertheless continue, as we saw in Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho the Jew written only a few years earlier. Moreover, Melito’s inquiry would be for information, not debate, and there is no reason to expect the rabbis to be antagonistic. When the two prospects of either inquiring as the synagogue in Sardis or making the arduous trek to Palestine to receive essentially the same answer are considered, Melito certainly would have chosen the former. If the Jews in Sardis were so antagonistic as not to answer Melito’s inquiry, what hope would there be of an answer being secured among the rabbis in Palestine? We do know that Jewish/Christian dialogues, as evidenced in the writings of the early Fathers, continued unabated throughout the first several centuries of the Church. They were pointed, but they continued. (Ibid., 336-37 n. 127)

 

Epiphanius of Salamis, “Judaism,” 6:1

 

6,1 By the time of the captives’ return from Babylon these Jews had gotten the following books and prophets, and the following books of the prophets: (2) 1. Genesis. 2. Exodus. 3. Leviticus. 4. Numbers. 5. Deuteronomy. 6. The Book of Joshua the son of Nun. 7. The Book of the Judges. 8. Ruth. 9. Job. 10. The Psalter. 11. The Proverbs of Solomon. 12. Ecclesiastes. 13. The Song of Songs. 14. The First Book of Kingdoms 15. The Second Book of Kingdoms. 16. The Third Book of Kingdoms. 17. The Fourth Book of Kingdoms. 18. The First Book of Chronicles. 19. The Second Book of Chronicles. 20. The Book of the Twelve Prophets. 21. The Prophet Isaiah. 22. The Prophet Jeremiah, with the Lamentations and the Epistles of Jeremiah and Baruch. 23. The Prophet Ezekiel. 24. The Prophet Daniel. 25. I Ezra. 26. II Ezra. 27. Esther. (3) These are the 27 books given the Jews by God. They are counted as 22, however, like the letters of their Hebrew alphabet, because ten books are doubled and reckoned as five. But I have explained this clearly elsewhere. (4) And they have two more books of disputed canonicity, the Wisdom of Sirach and the Wisdom of Solomon, apart from certain other apocrypha. (The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis: Book I (Sects 1-46) [trans. Frank Williams; Nag Hammadi and Manichaean Studies 63; Leiden: Brill, 2009], 28-29)

 

Athanasius’ Use of the Apocrypha to Support “Primary” Doctrines: Divinity of Jesus and the Consubstantiality of the Father and the Son

 

Again, when the Bishops said that the Word must be described as the True Power and Image of the Father, in all things exact4 and like the Father, and as unalterable, and as always, and as in Him without division (for never was the Word not, but He was always, existing everlastingly with the Father, as the radiance of light). . . (Defense of the Nicene Definition, 5, 20 [NPNF2 4:163])

 

For she is a reflection of eternal light, a spotless mirror of the working of God, and an image of his goodness. (Wisdom 7:26 NRSV)

 

Thus they have called the Father the Fount of Wisdom [Baruch 3:12] and Life, and the Son the Radiance of the Eternal Light, and the Offspring from the Fountain, as He says, ‘I am the Life,' and, ‘I Wisdom dwell with Prudence' (John xiv. 6; Prov. viii. 12). But the Radiance from the Light [Wisdom 7:26], and Offspring from Fountain, and Son from Father, how can these be so fitly expressed as by ‘Coessential?' And is there any cause of fear, lest, because the offspring from men are coessential, the Son, by being called Coessential, be Himself considered as a human offspring too? perish the thought! not so; but the explanation is easy. For the Son is the Father's Word and Wisdom; whence we learn the impassibility and indivisibility of such a generation from the Father . For not even man's word is part of him, nor proceeds from him according to passion; much less God's Word; whom the Father has declared to be His own Son, lest, on the other hand, if we merely heard of ‘Word,' we should suppose Him, such as is the word of man, impersonal; but that, hearing that He is Son, we may acknowledge Him to be living Word and substantive Wisdom. (De Synodis, Part III, 41 [NPNF2 4:472)

 

For she is a reflection of eternal light, a spotless mirror of the working of God, and an image of his goodness. (Wisdom 7:26 NRSV)

 

You have forsaken the fountain of wisdom. (Baruch 3:12 NRSV)

 

 

Yves Congar on Medieval Writers and the Material Sufficiency of Scripture

Two Medieval writers wrote the following:

 

All truth is from God; though all will not be known until God is glorified. But this begins here below with the revelation of the Scriptures.[1]

 

Let us search for wisdom, let us consult sacred Scripture itself, apart from which nothing can be found, nothing said which is solid or certain.[2]

 

All that God has said or promised in sacred Scripture can be found reaffirmed in the creed . . . as for anything that it outside the rule of holy Scripture, belief in it may not be demanded of a Catholic.[3]

 

The sources for the above are:

 

[1] Rabanus Maurus, De cleric. inst., III, 2; PL, 107, 379-80

 

[2] Rupert of Deutz, In Apoc.; PL, 169, 1085; cf. 1203, 1493

 

[3] Idem, De Omnipotentia Dei, 27; PL, 170, 477-8

 

As Congar noted about Medieval authors and the (material) sufficiency of Scripture:

 

An unknown author at the beginning of the twelfth century, according to Fr Barré a disciple of St Anselm, composed the famous Tractatus de Assumptione which, under St Augustine’s name, had a great influence on the development of the doctrine of the Assumption of our Lady. Practically speaking he reduces this doctrinal development to Scripture, by the way of Christian contemplation (ratio), which reads into the facts a meaning that goes far beyond the facts themselves (PL, 40, 1143-4). Medieval writers had no difficulty in finding everything in Scripture, since their principles of exegesis provided them with the necessary means. (Yves M.J. Congar, Tradition and Traditions: An Historical and a Theological Essay [trans. Michael Naseby; London: Burns and Oates Ltd., 1966], 113, emphasis in bold added)

 

I am sure if Irenaeus or Athanasius said the above, they would latch onto them and take this to “prove” sola scriptura was the belief of early Christianity. However, just as with the background of Medieval authors (see Congar’s survey on pp. 111-16), in context, they do not support belief in the formal sufficiency of the Bible

Yves Congar on Unwritten Apostolic Traditions in Irenaeus of Lyons

Under the heading of “Examples of Unwritten Apostolic Traditions Cited by Catholic Writers,” Yves Congar wrote the following concerning Irenaeus of Lyons (130-202):

 

 

ST IRENAEUS: The paschal fast (Frag. 3). To be accurate, we must point out that St Irenaeus attributes a great many points of doctrine to the apostolic paradosis: one could even say all doctrine, since it presents the authentic sense of Scripture. On occasion he indicates expressly that a particular point comes from the apostles through the intermediary of the presbyters (For example, the doctrine relating to justice under the Old Dispensation [AH V, 27, 1; PG, 7, 105], the idea that the Holy Spirit leads us to the Son, who in turn leads us to the Father [V, 36, 2; PG, 7, 1225]). (Yves M.J. Congar, Tradition and Traditions: An Historical and a Theological Essay [trans. Michael Naseby; London: Burns and Oates Ltd., 1966], 50)

 

Here are the sources referenced in the above from Irenaeus:

 

Fragment 3:

 

For the controversy is not merely as regards the day, but also as regards the form itself of the fast. For some consider themselves bound to fast one day, others two days, others still more, while others [do so during] forty: the diurnal and the nocturnal hours they measure out together as their [fasting] day. And this variety among the observers [of the fasts] had not its origin in our time, but long before in that of our predecessors, some of whom probably, being not very accurate in their observance of it, handed down to posterity the custom as it had, through simplicity or private fancy, been [introduced among them]. And yet nevertheless all these lived in peace one with another, and we also keep peace together. Thus, in fact, the difference [in observing] the fast establishes the harmony of [our common] faith. And the presbyters preceding Soter in the government of the church which thou dost now rule—I mean, Anicetus and Pius, Hyginus and Telesphorus, and Sixtus—did neither themselves observe it [after that fashion], nor permit those with them to do so. Notwithstanding this, those who did not keep [the feast in this way] were peacefully disposed towards those who came to them from other dioceses in which it was [so] observed, although such observance was [felt] in more decided contrariety [as presented] to those who did not fall in with it; and none were ever cast out [of the church] for this matter. On the contrary, those presbyters who preceded thee, and who did not observe [this custom], sent the Eucharist to those of other dioceses who did observe it. And when the blessed Polycarp was sojourning in Rome in the time of Anicetus, although a slight controversy had arisen among them as to certain other points, they were at once well inclined towards each other [with regard to the matter in hand], not willing that any quarrel should arise between them upon this head. For neither could Anicetus persuade Polycarp to forego the observance [in his own way], inasmuch as these things had been always [so] observed by John the disciple of our Lord, and by other apostles with whom he had been conversant; nor, on the other hand, could Polycarp succeed in persuading Anicetus to keep [the observance in his way], for he maintained that he was bound to adhere to the usage of the presbyters who preceded him. And in this state of affairs they held fellowship with each other; and Anicetus conceded to Polycarp in the church the celebration of the Eucharist, by way of showing him respect; so that they parted in peace one from the other, maintaining peace with the whole church, both those who did observe [this custom] and those who did not.

 

AH 5.27.1

 

If the Father, then, does not exercise judgment, [it follows] that judgment does not belong to Him, or that He consents to all those actions which take place; and if He does not judge, all persons will be equal, and accounted in the same condition. The advent of Christ will therefore be without an object, yea, absurd, inasmuch as [in that case] He exercises no judicial power. For “He came to divide a man against his father, and the daughter against the mother, and the daughter-in-law against the mother-in-law;” and when two are in one bed, to take the one, and to leave the other; and of two women grinding at the mill, to take one and leave the other: [also] at the time of the end, to order the reapers to collect first the tares together, and bind them in bundles, and burn them with unquenchable fire, but to gather up the wheat into the barn; and to call the lambs into the kingdom prepared for them, but to send the goats into everlasting fire, which has been prepared by His Father for the devil and his angels. And why is this? Has the Word come for the ruin and for the resurrection of many? For the ruin, certainly, of those who do not believe Him, to whom also He has threatened a greater damnation in the judgment-day than that of Sodom and Gomorrah; but for the resurrection of believers, and those who do the will of His Father in heaven. If then the advent of the Son comes indeed alike to all, but is for the purpose of judging, and separating the believing from the unbelieving, since, as those who believe do His will agreeably to their own choice, and as, [also] agreeably to their own choice, the disobedient do not consent to His doctrine; it is manifest that His Father has made all in a like condition, each person having a choice of his own, and a free understanding; and that He has regard to all things, and exercises a providence over all, “making His sun to rise upon the evil and on the good, and sending rain upon the just and unjust.”

 

AH 5.36.2

 

[They say, moreover], that there is this distinction between the habitation of those who produce an hundred-fold, and that of those who produce sixty-fold, and that of those who produce thirty-fold: for the first will be taken up into the heavens, the second will dwell in paradise, the last will inhabit the city; and that it was on this account the Lord declared, “In my Father’s house are many mansions.” For all things belong to God, who supplies all with a suitable dwelling-place; even as His Word says, that a share is allotted to all by the Father, according as each person is or shall be worthy. And this is the couch on which the guests shall recline, having been invited to the wedding. The presbyters, the disciples of the apostles, affirm that this is the gradation and arrangement of those who are saved, and that they advance through steps of this nature; also that they ascend through the Spirit to the Son, and through the Son to the Father, and that in due time the Son will yield up His work to the Father, even as it is said by the apostle, “For He must reign till He hath put all enemies under His feet. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” For in the times of the kingdom, the righteous man who is upon the earth shall then forget to die. “But when He saith, All things shall be subdued unto Him, it is manifest that He is excepted who did put all things under Him. And when all things shall be subdued unto Him, then shall the Son also Himself be subject unto Him who put all things under Him, that God may be all in all.”

 

Two Useful Resources Critiquing Sola Scriptura

Yesterday I re-read the following works critiquing Sola Scriptura and thought I would share with those interested:

 

Robert A. Sungenis, ed., Not By Scripture Alone: A Catholic Critique of the Protestant Doctrine of Sola Scriptura, 2^nd ed.

 

Robert A. Sungenis, A Critique of Keith Mathison's book: “The Shape of Sola Scriptura”

Brittany E. Wilson on Stephen's Vision in Acts 7:55-56

  

But [Stephen], being full of the Holy Ghost, looked up stedfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God, And said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God. (Acts 7:55-56)

 

Acts 7:55-56 is a text that Latter-day Saints often appeal to in order to support our belief that God the Father is embodied. For a discussion, see:

 

Lynn Wilder vs. Latter-day Saint (and Biblical) Theology on Divine Embodiment

 

Commenting on Stephen’s vision, Brittany E. Wilson wrote that:

 

The culminating vision of the Stephen episode—Stephen’s vision after his speech—is by far the most visually oriented divine appearance in Luke-Acts, largely because there is no mention of divine speech. Stephen’s vision is also unusual because it is the only time in Luke-Acts when God offers a glimpse into heaven. Here God does not descend from heaven to earth but allows Stephen to see into heaven from earth. Within the narrative logic of the story, Stephen’s vision functions as a stamp of divine approval: his ability to see God affirms what Stephen has just said in his speech and confirms his innocence in the face of false charges. But no divine words are actually uttered; instead, the narrator describes in third-person discourse the nature of what Stephen sees, and then Stephen, in first-person discourse, directs our attention to this sight, using the word ιδου (“Behold!”) to grab our attention and to bring the scene into strikingly vivid terms.

 

The vision begins when Stephen becomes filled with the Holy Spirit and gazes into heaven (Acts 7:55). (Note, though, that Luke does not use the term “vision” here.) When Stephen looks heavenward, Luke tells us that he sees “the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right of God” (7:55). Right away, three things should stand out to us. First, Luke reintroduces the notion of God’s visible “glory” (δοξα), circling back to the outset of Stephen’s speech, where he describes the God who appeared to Abraham as “the God of glory [δοξης]” (7:2), as well as to the birth narrative, where we first see God’s “glory” (δοξα) shining around the shepherds (Luke 2:9). Second, Luke uses anthropomorphic language to describe this heavenly scene: we find the image of Jesus standing to the right of God, implying that God occupies heavenly space and is a concrete presence next to which Jesus can stand (And notice that the text says to God’s “right” and not God’s “right hand, as in many English translations [which demonstrates that translations do sometimes insert corporeal anthropomorphisms, even if they are meant idiomatically]).

 

Third, this spatial, anthropomorphic description is reminiscent of the heavenly throne-room scenes found in Isa 6, Ezek 1, and other instances where God’s glory, or fiery form, is in a heavenly throne room (e.g., 1 En. 14:20-22). The picture of Jesus standing at God’s right evokes this common trope and makes us wonder if we are to see a veiled version of God’s “cosmic body” in this scene. Of course, Luke does not include the term “throne,” and he interestingly depicts Jesus standing (not sitting), a posture that perhaps mirrors Jesus’s exalted state, his role as judge, or his status as a member of God’s heavenly court. But the fact that Stephen has just quoted Isa 66:1, where he identifies heaven as God’s throne (Acts 7:49), not to mention Luke’s references to God exalting Jesus to his right that he draws from enthronement psalms (Acts 2:33-35; 5:31; cf. Pss 110:1; 118:16), suggests that we are to read Stephen’s vision in light of heavenly throne-room scenes.

 

After this description by the narrator, Stephen himself brings his heavenly vista before our eyes, while also proving an interpretation of what he sees, when he says; “Behold! I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right of God!” (Acts 7:56) (Compare the narrator’s account and Stephen’s interpretation: “gazing into heaven, he saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right of God” [7:55] // “Behold! I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right of God!” [7:56]). Instead of saying that he sees God, Stephen uses a circumlocution, saying that he sees “the heavens opened,” which is, again, a standard apocalyptic image used to convey the bestowal of divine revelation. Even though we as readers know that Stephen sees God’s glory, he seems reticent to share this God sighting with his interlocutors. He then identifies Jesus as “the Son of Man,” another standard apocalyptic image, drawn especially from Dan 7 (Dan 7:13; cf. Ps 110:1; Luke 22:69), and he retains the sense that Jesus is standing at God’s right. By recounting his vision, though, Stephen in effect seals his fate, for his description of this vision serves as the impetus of his death. The Jewish council members are angry after Stephen’s speech (Acts 7:54), but after his vision, they rush him, drag him out of the city, stone him, and kill him (7:57-60). In his work on visions in Luke-Acts, John Miller notes that the entire episode involving Stephen underscores the rejection of God’s will despite revelatory visions both past and present (Miller, Convinced That God Had Called Us, 181). God’s will (and God’s hidden form, I would add) is revealed in visions, but the recipients have to be open to seeing the visions. Closure to such visions has occurred in Israel’s past and continues, Luke maintains, during Stephen’s own time.

 

In sum, Luke indicates that seeing God is important, even if God’s form is wrapped in ambiguity. (Brittany E. Wilson, The Embodied God: Seeing the Divine in Luke-Acts and the Early Church [New York: Oxford University Press, 2021], 91-93)

 

With respect to Wilson’s reference to God’s “cosmic body,” note the following and the third type of body Mark S. Smith believes God has in the Old Testament:

 

[Mark S.] Smith argues that God has three different types of bodies in the Hebrew Bible: one that is human in scale and manifest on earth in a material sense (as in Genesis), a second that is a superhuman-sized body manifest on earth but often luminous and not physical or fleshy (as in Exodus and Isaiah), and a third that partakes of a bodily form, though the nature of its physicality remains unclear, and is manifest in the cosmic realm (as in the later prophets . . . “ (Smith, Where the Gods Are, esp. 13-30). (Ibid., 9)

 

Notes on Stephen's and Paul's Speeches in Acts 7 and 17 and Idolatry, "Without Hands," and the Visibility or Invisibility of God

  

Acts 7 and Stephen's Speech

In regular Greek usage, ειδωλον means an “insubstantial phenomenon,” a “phantom,” or a “mental image,” yet the translators used this term to reference the material images of Gentile gods, suggesting that these images are at best elusive reflections of concrete reality. In other instances, idol polemic drew boundary lines between the God of Israel as Creator versus the created order (a move that bears some affinity with a Platonic Creator/creation divide). Idol parodies in particular draw this distinction, and in the LXX, the term “made with human hands,” or “hand-made” (χειροποιητος), appears in reference to divine images in order to highlight the difference between God the Creator and humans who attempt to create gods, or at least images of the gods (e.g., the LXX of Lev 26:1, 30; Isa 2:18; 10:11; 16:12; 19:1; 21:9; 31:7; 46:6; Dan 5:4, 23; 6:28; Wis 14:8). (Brittany E. Wilson, The Embodied God: Seeing the Divine in Luke-Acts and the Early Church [New York: Oxford University Press, 2021], 29)

 

. . . rather than critiquing the visuality of divine images, Luke more consistently critiques the tactility of idol making. Luke does take issue with (at least some) divine images, but he uses the sense of touch, not sight, to level his critique. In doing so, Luke suggests not that visual images incorrectly represent an invisible God but that the act of creating images effaces the distinction between God and humanity, or Creator and creation. In other words, Luke focuses less on the visibility of images and more on their human construction, the letter of which expresses his central concern with such images.

 

Luke lifts up the tactility of idols by incorporating “hand” (χειρ) and “to make” (ποιεω) language throughout all three of his idol passages. In Acts 7, Stephen repeatedly references the human manufacture of foreign gods. The Israelites commanded Aaron to “make” (ποιησον) gods for them (7:40); they also “made a calf [εμοσχοποιησαν[“ (7:41), “reveled in the works of their hands [χειρων αυτων]” (7:41), and worshiped images that they “made [εποιησατε]” (7:43). With the meaning of reveling “in the works of their hands,” Stephen also links t his idolatrous act to the building of the Jerusalem temple: Stephen explains that though Solomon built a “house” (οικος) for God, “the Most High does not dwell [κατοικει] in things made by human hands [χειροποιητοις]” (7:47-48), echoing a sentiment expressed in 1 Chr 17:4 (In Acts 7, Stephen uses the golden calf incident to transition to his discussion of the temple: his mention of the “tent” [σκηνη] of Rephan and the “images} [τυποι] the Israelites worship [7:43] leads to his discussion of the “tent” [σκηνη] of testimony that Moses made according to a “pattern” [τυπος] [7:44-45], which then leads to his discussion of God’s “house” [οικος] [7:46-50]). God is not contained by the temple or other things crafted by human hands; instead, God’s “hand” (χειρ) makes all, as Stephen makes clear in his citation from Isa 66:1 (Acts 7:50; cf. Isa 66:1-2). (Ibid., 38-39)

 

Acts 17 and Paul's Speech at the Areopagus

To be clear, Luke in his effort to signal the difference between “the Way” and other “ways,” incorporates philosophical discourse against divine images from the wider Greco-Roman world and reflects an adept understanding of his pagan context. This is nowhere more evident than in Paul’s Areopagus speech. Paul, for example, is careful not to use the term “idol” in his speech. The narrator uses this word when he says that Paul was distressed to see that the city was “full of idols” [κατειδωλον]” (Acts 17:16), but Paul himself calls these images “your objects of worship [σεβασματα]” (17:23). Paul is also careful to depict images as representations of the divine, merely saying that God is not “like” (ομοιον) an image (Since χαραγματι [“image”] stands in apposition to the four dative nouns that precede it, which are complements of ομοιον [“like”], we should read “like” [ομοιον] before “images” [χαραγματι] as well). (And though Demetrius will later accuse Paul of saying that “gods made with hands are not gods” [19:26], note that we never actually witness Paul saying this.) Yet while Paul’s Areopagus speech demonstrates an awareness of the philosophical critique against images, it nowhere draws upon the rationale concerning God’s invisibility as found in some philosophical circles. Paul does provide a rationale, but he does so by citing a well-known Greek proverb that depicts the divine in anthropomorphic terms, namely, as a parent (To be clear, the idea of God as a parental figure was also well known in philosophical circles, even among philosophers who advocated for God’s invisibility). In 17:28, Paul says, “For we too are his offspring [γενος],’” a quotation that derives from the poet Aratus’s Phaenomena (v. 5) but had gained proverbial status by Luke’s time, and he goes on to say that “therefore [ουν], being the offspring [γενος] of God, we ought not to think that deity is like gold . . .” (17:29). With his “therefore” (ουν), Paul links the Aratus quotation to his rejection of images and argues that we ought not to liken God to gold, silver, or stone, because we are God’s γενος, a word that means “offspring,” or “family,” or “descendants.” Luke interestingly refrains from saying that humans are the image of God (Pervo identifies Luke’s reticence here as an instance of enthymeme, a rhetorical device in which a premise or conclusion is not expressed but implied [Acts 439]. Cf. Gen 1:26-27; 1 Cor 11:7; 15:49; 2 Cor 3:18; 4:4; Col 1:15; 3:10), but he fastens on to a familiar term that points to the relationship between God and humanity. God’s paternity—not God’s invisibility—serves as the reason to reject images; Luke nowhere indicates that humans should avoid images due to God’s lack of a visible form. (Ibid., 34-35)

 

. . . while Luke’s narrative as a whole paints a picture of an embodied God, some may be quick to argue that Luke is against the idea of humans holding a mental conception of God’s form. In Acts 17, Paul declares during his Areopagus speech that God does not resemble “an image of human craft and thought [χαραγματι τεχνης και ενθυμησεως ανθρωπου]” (17:29), which some interpreters take to mean images that are both made and imagined. Richard Pervo even suggests that the manuscript 𝔓⁷⁴ omits “and of human thought” (και ενθυμησεως ανθρωπου) because an Alexandrian editor would have thought that humans can form a mental conception of God (Pervo, Acts, 423). Paul’s comment can certainly be interpreted in this manner, but his main critique seems to be directed at manually constructed images that derive from a person’s craft and creativity. Mikeal Parsons and Martin Culy’s discussion of the grammar in Acts 17:29 furthers this sense, for they argue that the genitives τεχνης and ενθυμησεως denote the means of the implicit verb “made” (hence their translation: “we should not think that the divine one is . . . [like] an image [made] by a person’s skill and creativity” (Parsons and Culy, Acts, 332, 341). Given that Paul is reacting to material images in his speech (17:22-25; cf. 17:16), coupled with the fact that Luke’s narrative encourages us to envision God’s imaginal body elsewhere, it seems more likely that Paul’s main issue in 17:29 lies with material images that arise from linguistic representation. (Ibid., 47-48)

 

Brittany E. Wilson on "Power" (δυναμις) in Luke 1:35 in the Context of Luke-Acts

  

In Luke-Acts, God’s “Power” (δυναμις) is yet another form that God takes. As noted earlier, Luke’s reference to Simon Magus as “the Power of God that is called Great” (Acts 8:10) is arguably a reference to the Samaritan title for God as “power.” But Luke also refers to “the power of God” elsewhere in his narrative. When Gabriel explains to Mary how she will conceive, he tells her that “the power of the Most High will overshadow you” (Luke 1:35), and during Jesus’s ministry, we learn that “the power of the Lord” was present with Jesus to heal (5:17). In both these examples, we may be tempted to see “power” simply as an attribute of God (and not as an entity). But when Gabriel speaks to Mary, he directly parallels the action of the Most High’s Power with the action of the Holy Spirit: “the Holy Spirit will come upon you” // “the Power of the Most High will overshadow you.” With this synonymous parallelism, Gabriel indicates that the Spirit and the Power have a common referent, with their collective action resulting in “the begotten one” being called “Son of God” (1:35). In Jesus’s healing ministry, “the power of the Lord” also arguably acts as an agent, since this “power” is the source behind Jesus’s healing (“the Power of the Lord was [present] for him to heal”). Some manuscripts even suggest that the Lord’s “Power” heals people, directly, since they render the phrase as “the Power of the Lord was [present] to heal them,” instead of “The Power of the Lord was [present] for him to heal” (5:17) (although note that scribes probably envisioned “the Lord” in reference to Jesus here) (Emphasis added. Scribes likely changed the singular αυτον to the plural αυτους [and other plural variations# because they did not realize that αυτον was the subject of the articular infinitive το ιασθαι, Metzger, A Textual Commentary, 115).

 

Elsewhere, Luke more clearly describes God’s Power as a heavenly entity. When Jesus is on trial before the Sanhedrin, he indicates that “the Power of God” is a localized presence that occupies space when he evokes Dan 7:13 and Ps 110:1, saying, “the Son of Man will be seated at the right of the Power of God” (Luke 22:69) (Note, though, that Matthew and Mark more explicitly reference Dan 7:13 in their version of this saying, relating that the Son of Man will be seen “coming on/with the clouds of heaven” [Matt 26:64; Mark 14:62]. They also say that the Son of Man will be seated to the right of “the Power” instead of “the Power of God.”). In the synoptic apocalypse, Jesus also speaks of multiple heavenly “powers” when he foretells that “the powers of the heavens [αι . . . δυναμεις των ουρανων] will be shaken” (21:26 (Luke 21:26 likely alludes to Isa 34:4 [“all the stars will fall away”]. Note that a variant of Isa 34:4 reads: “all the powers of heaven will be dissolved.” Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke, 2:1350. See also Matt 24:29; Mark 13:25). As in other apocalyptic texts, “powers” here is a way to refer to angels or the heavenly host; Luke sees “power” not simply as a literary attribute but as a tangible reality. Luke reinforces this sense later in Acts, when the Jewish council asks the apostles: “By what Power or by what Name did you do this”? (Acts 4:7). Here we see the coupling of “Power” with “Name” and the assumption that the apostles drew upon a higher source in their healing of the man outside the temple (Note also the association between God’s power and glory: Jesus says that the Son of Man will be seated at the right of the power of God [Luke 22:69], and Stephen sees the Son of Man standing at the right of the glory of God [Acts 7:55-56]). Luke’s association of God’s Power with God’s Spirit in particular (Luke 1:35) indicates that this Power is a heavenly agent that engages human lives. (Brittany E. Wilson, The Embodied God: Seeing the Divine in Luke-Acts and the Early Church [New York: Oxford University Press, 2021], 129-30)

 

Brittany E. Wilson on Divine Images and Idol Polemic in the Ancient World

  

Divine Images and Idol Polemic in the Ancient World

 

In both modern and ancient discourse, the prohibition against crafting images in the Decalogue (Exod 20:4; Deut 5:8) remains one of the most persistent rationales Jews and Christians cite in their defense of an invisible God. When we look more closely at this famous prohibition, though, it becomes clear that the primary issue is not God’s visibility or lack thereof but God’s superiority in relation to other gods. In Exodus and Deuteronomy, the prohibition of “idols”—itself a pejorative term used to describe someone else’s divine images—is closely connected with the prohibition of worshiping other gods besides the God of Israel. The commandment, which immediately follows the commandment to have no other gods before “the LORD your God” (Exod 20:2-3; cf. Deut 5:6-7), begins with “You shall not make for yourself an idol . . .” and then goes on to say, “You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the LORD your God am a jealous God” (Exod 20:4-5; cf. Deut 5:8-9). As W. Barnes Tatum argues, the second commandment is not anti-iconic but anti-idolic; the commandment is not against images per se but against images that represent other deities (Tatum, “The LXX Version,” 181). Furthermore, the explanation for this prohibition in Deut 4:15-18, the text does not prohibit the Israelites from making idols because God lacks a form but because they did not see God’s form: “Since you saw no form when the LORD spoke to you at Horeb out o the fire, take care and watch yourselves closely, so that you do not act corruptly by making an idol for yourselves, in the form of any figure . . . “ (Deut 4:15-16). Indeed, Deuteronomy indicates that sight itself is still important in perceiving divine revelation, for Moses claims just a few verses earlier that Israel saw God’s voice: “you could see no likeness; only a voice [תמונה אינכם ראים זולתי קול]” (cf. “you did not see a likeness, but rather a voice [ονοιωμα ουκ ειδετε, αλλ’ η φωνην]” LXX) (Deut 4:12).

 

Idol polemic found in Scripture more broadly likewise indicates that God’s form remains a forbidden object of material representation, not that God lacks a form altogether. A number of texts, though, are certainly critical of idols. Second Kings and 2 Chronicles describe the destruction of idols in the context of cult reformers under Hezekiah and Josiah (2 Kgs 18; 22-23; 2 Chr 29-30; 34), and the prophets and psalms critique foreign nations for their association with idols (e.g., Ps 106:38; Isa 10:10; 19:1; 46:1; Jer 50:38; Ezek 20:7-8). Idol parodies in particular contrast Israel’s “living God” with lifeless idols, claiming that such idols displace the Creator with the created thing as the object of worship (e.g., Pss 115:4-8; 135:15-18; Isa 40:18-20; 44:9-20; 46:1-13; Jer 10:1-16; Hos 13:2-3; Hab 2:18-19). In none of these accounts, however, is there a suggestion that God cannot be represented as an image because God is invisible or formless. Moreover, there are times in Jewish Scripture when images appear in a manner akin to “idols” but without any sense of critique. The ark of the covenant, for example, is sometimes depicted as being functionally equivalent to an idol since it is a physical object through which the God of Israel becomes manifest (e.g., Num 7:89; 1 Sam 5:1-5). Some scholars even argue that the Israelites had an iconic representation of YHWH in the Jerusalem temple, maintaining that biblical references to “seeing God” connect to seeing the cult statue (see Dick, “Prophetic Parodies”; Levtow, Images of Others; Bonfiglio, “Images and the Image Ban,” 2c, “Idol Parodies in Prophetic Literature”). Regardless, recent studies on scriptural aniconism demonstrate that Israelite religion was not imageless, and although Israel’s aniconic tendencies intensified over time, as Tryggve Mettinger argues in his landmark work on this topic, scriptural texts preserve a variety of stances toward images themselves (See Mettinger, No Graven Image?).

 

Scriptural accounts of divine images becomes especially suggestive when we turn to Gen 1, for here human beings are said to be made in the “image of God” (Gen 1:27). This first creation account relates that God creates humans in God’s “image,” using a term (צלם in the MT and εικων in the LXX) that regularly refers to the statues or visible depictions of the divine (e.g., Num 33:53; 2 Kgs 11:8; Ezek 7:20; Amos 5:26). In his summary on this account, Mark Smith notes that “[h]umanity is not only the representation of God on earth; the human person is the living representation pointing to a living and real God, perhaps unlike the lifeless images of other deities made by human hands” (Smith, The Priestly Vision, 101). Zainab Bahrani and Stephen Herring push this argument even further. Bahrani maintains that images in some ancient Near Eastern contexts were viewed as constitutive of the reality they represented, and Herring similarly concludes that images were not replicas, but extensions of the referent’s very presence (Bahrani, The Graven Image, esp. 121-48; Herring, Divine Substitution). As created in God’s “own image” (צלם; εικων) and “likeness” (דמות; ομοιωσις) (Gen 1:26), humans arguably reach this same level of confluence; in the words of Randall Garr, humanity itself is akin to a theophany (Garr, In His Own Image and Likeness, 117). If humans are “visible embodiments” of God, then they might reflect not only God’s “mind” or “reason” (as interpreters wed to an invisible God often maintain) but also God’s very body. (Brittany E. Wilson, The Embodied God: Seeing the Divine in Luke-Acts and the Early Church [New York: Oxford University Press, 2021], 25-27)