Tag: christianity

ROGERS, MELITO & WISDOM

A Review of Anthony Rogers’ “Melito and the Wisdom of Pseudo-Solomon”

Uploaded to Academia.edu on 12/14/24[1]

I’d like to begin this review by noting that although Rogers and I engage in our own respective spheres of apologetics, I do not believe there is sufficient grounds for determining – with any degree of certainty – whether Melito lists a deuterocanonical book or not. I am open to either possibility because I believe that Melito’s list is an example of Christian-Jewish polemics in which Melito is attempting to inform Onesimus which books can be used for the purpose of Christian evangelism. Therefore, the list is important for understanding the development of the rabbinic bible but tells us little about the Christian canon.

Rogers’ paper – Melito and the Wisdom of Pseudo-Solomon – does not appear to be a finished product, his citations are incomplete, and his thought is rather haphazard. The paper suffers from a heavy reliance on secondary sources, which are often received uncritically.[2]

The paper begins with a quote from the Catholic Encyclopedia (1908) to the effect that Melito only lists protocanonical books, minus Esther. Rogers provides a rather lengthy footnote to this quotation, which reads:

“When Ried says that Melito’s list contains only the protocanonicals, he is acknowledging that Melito’s list is the same as that of Jews and Protestants and does not include what Rome refers to as Deutero-Canonical, i.e the Apocrypha.”[3]

He then adds that this “admission” should sound “surprising” coming from a Roman Catholic scholar. What is surprising, however, is Mr. Rogers’ statement that Melito’s list is “the same as” the final form of the rabbinic and Protestant bible. The quote from Reid explicitly states that Esther is not among the protocanonical books cited.[4]  The quote from Reid suggests that he may not have believed Wisdom was a deuterocanonical book, but he could not have meant the Melito’s list is “the same as” the Protestant Old Testament canon.

Later in the same footnote, Rogers interacts with Trent Horn over the nature of Melito’s work and list. Even though this topic directly impinges upon what Melito’s list represents, Rogers buries the question in a lengthy footnote dismissing it as Horn’s attempt to “mitigate the force” of Melito omitting the Deuterocanon. Aside from the fact that this is an appeal to motive, Rogers’ charge is not convincing. Melito’s Extracts, which includes his list, falls within the genre of Christian-Jewish polemics, which Reid notes, a few lines after the end of Rogers’ quote:

“It should be noticed, however, that the document to which this catalogue was prefixed is capable of being understood as having an anti-Jewish polemical purpose, in which case Melito’s restricted canon is explicable on another ground.”[5]

In case one is tempted to accuse Reid of also trying to “mitigate the force,” we find the following quoted in a footnote in Phillip Schaff’s and Henry Wace’s Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, which reads:

“…The nature of the work [Extracts] is clear from the words of Melito himself. It was a collection of testimonies to Christ and to Christianity, drawn from the Old Testament law and prophets. It must, therefore, have resembled closely such works as Cyprian’s Testimonia, and the Testimonia of Pseudo-Gregory, and other anti-Jewish works, in which the appeal was made to the Old Testament—the common ground accepted by both parties—for proof of the truth of Christianity. Although the Eclogæ of Melito were not anti-Jewish in their design, their character leads us to classify them with the general class of anti-Jewish works whose distinguishing mark is the use of Old Testament prophecy in defense of Christianity (cf. the writer’s article on Christian Polemics against the Jews, in the Pres. Review, July, 1888, and also the writer’s Dialogue between a Christian and a Jew, entitled ʼΑντιβολη Παπισκου καί Φιλωνος, New York, 1889).”[6]

Surely Schaff and Wace – who exhibit a considerable anti-Catholic bias – are not trying to “mitigate the force” of the absence of these books in Melito. Ascertaining the purpose and genre of Melito’s Extracts is key to understanding what Melito’s list is intended to represent. If Extracts is a Christian-Jewish apologetics work then the books listed represent the “common ground accepted by both parties” (i.e., Christianity and rabbinic Judaism). The contents, therefore, may or may not correspond to the Christian “canon.”[7] Therefore, if Melito’s Wisdom is a reference to a deuterocanonical book, it is problematic only for those who deny the Christian reception of the Deuterocanon.

Mr. Rogers appears to assume that the rabbinic “canon” did not undergo any development over the centuries, and it was universally received and recognized by both Jews and Christians. These assumptions raise several tensions for Rogers’ interpretation of Melito.

After reproducing the fragment from Eusebius, Rogers writes:

“Some have claimed that Melito’s list does not include Lamentations or Nehemiah, but most recognize that Lamentations was included with Jeremiah and that the combination Ezra-Nehemiah is what Melito and others in the ancient church referred to as Esdras.”[8]

Rogers cites my work Why Catholic Bibles are Bigger (Rogers, p. 2, FN 3). It’s unclear why he needed to cite me (or anyone for that matter), since these books simply aren’t mentioned (as Rogers’ reproduction of the list illustrates). For the sake of disclosure, I will quote the relevant texts in both editions of Why Catholic Bibles Are Bigger, since Rogers’ citation neglected to mention which edition he is referencing. In the first edition (2007), I wrote:

“We ought to take a closer look at Melito’s list, as well, before moving on. A moment’s reflection reveals that it does not line up with the Protestant canon at all. It omits the books of Lamentations, Nehemiah, and Esther—and includes the Book of Wisdom. Even if Lamentations and Nehemiah are present, as some have argued, under the other titles broadly defined, the omission of Esther remains unaccountable.”[9]

Footnote 106 reads:

“Some dispute whether “also Wisdom” [Gk. e kai sophia] refers to the Book of Wisdom or an alternative title for the Book of Proverbs. See Bruce, F. F., The Canon of Scripture (InterVarsity Press, 1988), 71.”

I soften my stance on the identity of Wisdom in the 2017 revised edition of Why Catholic Bibles Are Bigger, which reads:
“Melito’s list frequently appears as a witness for the shorter Protestant canon, even though the contents of Melito’s list is different.”

FN 127 reads:

“Melito’s list omits the books of Lamentations, Nehemiah, and Esther—and it 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 rabbinical canon will also point to doubts concerning Esther.”

Rogers has stated that Melito’s list is “the same as” the Protestant canon, yet it omits three protocanonical books found in all Protestant bibles and possibly includes a deuterocanonical book which is generally omitted. Rogers attempts to resolve these tensions in different ways. Regarding the omission of Lamentations and Nehemiah, Rogers argues that since these books were commonly combined with the books of Jeremiah and Ezra, they were virtually included under the same titles. Fair enough. There is no evidence of the sacredness of these books being disputed in the second Christian century nor within mainstream Judaism or Christianity. They were indeed commonly combined with these books. Esther is another story. The sacredness of Esther is famously disputed in rabbinic literature that dates to the time of Melito and afterwards.[10] It is omitted in some early Christian lists as well.[11] Esther [and Nehemiah] were not found among the Dead Sea Scrolls.[12] Moreover, Esther wasn’t typically combined with other books as is the case with Lamentations and Nehemiah.[13]

Rogers argues that the omission of Esther was accidental. He attempts to raise the antecedent probability of an accidental omission by noting that Eusebius’ fragment of Origen’s list omits the Twelve minor prophets, whose sacredness was never denied. He therefore asserts that someone must have accidentally omitted Esther, whether it be Eusebius, or Melito’s source, or a copyist.[14] Although the universal acceptance of the Twelve does show that a mistake was made, the error would have to come from Eusebius or a copyist of Eusebius for Rogers’ argument to work, since only he reproduced fragments from both authors. It’s doubtful whether Eusebius is the one who omitted the Twelve.[15] Moreover, there is no manuscript evidence to support a copyist error in either text. How then can Rogers be so certain that Esther must have been included in Melito’s list? After noting some of the eccentricities of the list, Rogers notes:

“…the books that Melito listed are all part of the traditional Jewish canon and the Protestant Old Testament, with the possible exception of “Wisdom”.

Rogers’ certainty appears to be derived from the contents of the final form of the rabbinic / Protestant canon being anachronistically read back into Melito. These later canons included Esther. Therefore, Melito’s list must have originally included (or he intended to include) Esther.

This approach also leads Mr. Rogers to assume that only Lamentations was virtually included with Jeremiah, even though the deuterocanonical books of Baruch and the Epistle of Jeremiah (Baruch 6) had gained a wide acceptance among eastern and western fathers and – like Lamentations – were explicitly and virtually included in several early lists with Jeremiah.[16] Even granting that Baruch’s reception in rabbinic Judaism was considerably weaker than that of Lamentations, its inclusion under Jeremiah was fairly well established in Christian circles. If Melito is giving a Christian Old Testament list, as Rogers believes, why is the omitted protocanonical book of Lamentations virtually included, while the deuterocanonical books of Baruch and the Epistle are excluded? If one wishes to make Melito cohere with early Christian lists, there is no justification. If, however, one is attempting to make Melito’s list cohere with the final form of the Protestant canon then it would be justified, as well as being circular and ad hoc.[17]

“Proverbs, and the Wisdom”

Mr. Rogers now addresses the main point of the paper, the meaning of Melito’s words “ἡ καὶ Σοφία.” According to Rogers:

“Since the word “wisdom” in this list of canonical Scripture is mentioned in connection with Solomon, the word cannot refer to the Wisdom of Jesus Ben Sirach, and this leaves only two known possibilities…”[18]

When Rogers says “connection” he apparently means authorship. Since Jesus ben Sira was the author of the Wisdom of Jesus Ben Sirach, it would therefore be excluded. But did Melito mean “authorship?”[19] The header “Of Solomon” may refer to books that were commonly associated with Solomon due to their style, in which case Sirach could be included.[20] Indeed, Eusebius himself quotes Sirach 11:28 as from the “Proverbs of Solomon,” even though he knew that Solomon is not its author.[21]

Rogers, however, doesn’t believe “the Wisdom” refers to Sirach or the Wisdom of Solomon. He offers two reasons why he believes that it is an alternative name for Proverbs. Rogers references F. F. Bruce (Canon of Scripture, p. 71), who states:

“None of the writings in the ‘Septuagintal plus’ is listed: the ‘Wisdom’ included is not the Greek book of Wisdom but an alternative name for Proverbs. According to Eusebius, Hegesippus and Irenaeus and many other writers of their day called the Proverbs of Solomon ‘the all-virtuous Wisdom.’”[22]

Later Rogers quotes Stuart Moses to the same effect:

“The Romish church will find…in this almost primitive father, but a very slender

support, (indeed none at all, but the contrary), for their deutero-canon. If it be said, (as it has been), that the clause in Melito Σαλομωνοσ Παροιμιαι η και σοφια means the Proverbs of Solomon, and also Wisdom, (i.e. the Wisdom of Solomon, one of the

Apocryphal books), the reply to this suggestion is easy. ‘Nearly all the ancients’,

remarks Valesius on this passage, ‘called the Proverbs of Solomon Wisdom, and

sometimes Σοφιαν πανειρετον.’ Accordingly Dionysius of Alexandria, calls the book of Proverbs η σοφη βιβλοσ; Cap. 28, Catena in Jobum. The author of the Jerusalem

Itinerary, speaking of a certain chamber in Jerusalem, says that, “Solomon sat there,

and there he wrote Sapientiam,’ i.e. the book of Proverbs. Melito means then merely to say, that the work of Solomon called παιροιμιαι, had also the name of σοφια.”[23]

If we outline the argument, it runs like this:

P1. The book of Proverbs was known by an alternative title “the all-virtuous wisdom” (and similar titles).

P2. Melito speaks of “Wisdom”

C. Melito is proposing “Wisdom” as an alternative title for Proverbs.

This argument is hampered by several difficulties.

First, the truth of the first premise is disputable. The Baptist canonical scholar Lee Martin McDonald, in his work, The Formation of the Old Testament Canon, argues that Eusebius is not giving an alternative title for Proverbs, but a description of the inspiration that produced the book. McDonald explains:

“…the focus here is only on Proverbs and the special wisdom in it, that is, the divine wisdom given to Solomon. In 4.22.9, Irenaeus is not citing the Proverbs by a different name (Wisdom), but rather he is magnifying the wisdom with which Solomon wrote the Proverbs… The passage in Irenaeus that Eusebius is citing is not a reference to a book at all, but rather to divine wisdom. The text in Hist. eccl. 4.22.9 is only saying that Solomon exercised “all-virtuous Wisdom,” but it is not the same as we see in Hist. eccl. 4.26.12–13.”[24]

McDonald continues:

“Interestingly, Clement of Rome introduces a quote from Prov 1:23–33 with words similar to those in Eusebius (Hist. eccl. 4.22.9): “For thus says his [God’s] all-virtuous Wisdom” (Greek: οὕτως γάρ λέγει ἡ πανάρετος σοφία, 1 Clem. 57.3). Solomon’s name is not mentioned there, but the focus is on divine wisdom and Clement is citing Proverbs.”[25]

Michael V. Fox likewise notes:

“Among the early Christian writers the book [of Proverbs] was called variously “Wisdom,” “All-Virtuous Wisdom,” “The Wisdom Book,” and “Wisdom the Teacher” (references in Toy). These designations are not titles (they are not found in any MSS of Proverbs) but rather descriptions of the book’s contents.”[26]

If the “all-virtuous Wisdom” (and the other titles) are a description of the contents of Proverbs, it is a powerful affirmation of Proverb’s divine inspiration, but it is not (contra Rogers, Bruce, and Stuart) an alternative title for the book. Unfortunately, Mr. Rogers doesn’t interact with McDonald or Fox, but only quotes secondary sources in support of his first premise.

Second, there is a problem with the middle term. Even if one concedes (contra McDonald and Fox) that the “all-virtuous Wisdom” is an alternative title for Proverbs. The “all-virtuous Wisdom” (or the other presumed alternative titles) do not make up the middle-term of the argument. It still needs to be demonstrated that Melito’s “Wisdom” is the abbreviated form of “the all-virtuous Wisdom” or “the Wisdom Book.” The argument assumes that it is the same, which raises the next difficulty.

Third, the argument, in its current form, only raises the possibility that Proverbs could be Melito’s Wisdom, but it falls short of a demonstration. The argument needs to be much stronger to do that. For example, it would be more successful if it proposed:

P1. The “all-virtuous Wisdom” is the exclusive alternative title for Proverbs.

P2. Melito lists “[the all-virtuous] Wisdom.”

C. Melito’s [all-virtuous] Wisdom is an alternative title for Proverbs.

However, this stronger version of the argument is impossible because the “all-virtuous Wisdom” is not an exclusive alternative title for Proverbs, but it is also used for the Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach. In this regard, Schaff and Wace notes:

“This phrase (πανάρετος σοφία) was very frequently employed among the Fathers as a title of the Book of Proverbs. Clement of Rome (1 Cor. 57) is, so far as I know, the first so to use it. The word πανάρετος is applied also to the apocryphal Wisdom of Solomon, by Epiphanius (de mens. et pond. § 4) and others. Among the Fathers the Book of Sirach, the Solomonic Apocrypha, and the Book of Proverbs all bore the common title σοφία, “Wisdom,” which well defines the character of each of them; and this simple title is commoner than the compound phrase which occurs in this passage (cf. e.g. Justin Martyr’s Dial. c. 129, and Melito, quoted by Eusebius in chap. 26, below).”[27]

As Crawford Toy, in his commentary on Proverbs, likewise notes:

“By early Christian writers the book [of Proverbs] was commonly called Wisdom or All-virtuous Wisdom ἡ πανάρετος σοφία names which were also given to Ben-Sira (Ecclesiasticus) and Wisdom of Solomon.[28]

Jerome, who initially opposed the canonicity of Wisdom and Sirach, is aware of Sirach being called the “all-virtuous book:”

“There is also the ever-virtuous [πανάρετος] book of Jesus son of Sirach, and another which is a pseudepigraph, inscribed Wisdom of Solomon.”[29]

Epiphanius of Salamis tells us that both the Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach are called ἡ Πανάρετος:

“For there are two (other) poetical books, that by Solomon called “Most Excellent,” [ἡ Πανάρετος λεγομένη], and that by Jesus the son of Sirach and grandson of Jesus—- for his grandfather was named Jesus (and was) he who composed Wisdom in Hebrew, which his grandson, translating, wrote in Greek…”[30]

Eusebius himself call Sirach “all virtuous” [πανάρετος] in the Demonstration of the Gospel:

“And after him a second Onias, followed by Simon, in whose day flourished Jesus, son of Sirach, who wrote the excellent book called Wisdom [ὁ τὴν καλουμένην πανάρετον 

Σοφίαν συντάξας].”[31]

The appeal to alternative titles for Proverbs does little to disambiguate Melito’s “Wisdom.” Indeed, it allows for the possible inclusion of Sirach in addition to the Wisdom of Solomon.

Rogers’ second argument appeals, once again, to the final form of the rabbinic canon:

“Since Melito’s list in all other respects comports with the contents of the Jewish canon, the latter would be the most natural conclusion if we had nothing more to go on. But there is more, and that more points in the same direction.”

But, as we have seen, Rogers’ claim that Melito comports with the final form of the rabbinic and Protestant canon comes about only after a series of ad hoc adjustments: Nehemiah is virtually included under Esdras (Ezra); Lamentations is virtually included under Jeremiah; the books of Baruch and the Epistle are not also  virtually included under Jeremiah; and that someone accidentally blundered by omitting the book of Esther.[32] Only then does Mr. Rogers arrive at his “natural conclusion” that “Wisdom” is the alternative title for Proverbs.  But even if Melito’s list did otherwise perfectly comport with the Protestant canon without the need for such moves, it still doesn’t prove his point, since he has not ruled out the possibility to the contrary. Indeed, Mr. Rogers’ methodology would define out of existence any counter-evidence in any list as long as it can be somehow squared with the later Protestant canon. 

Rogers takes up Stuart’s second point:

“…Stuart says that the Greek eta (η) is to be understood as a relative pronoun rather than as an indicator of the article. While some manuscripts accent the eta as if it were an article (ἡ), others do not, and it is evident that the Greek version before Stuart was read as the relative pronoun.”

The Greek text in question is “ἡ καὶ Σοφία.”[33] The eta can be, as Stuart and Rogers states, either an article (the Wisdom), or a relative pronoun (which is Wisdom). In addition to Rogers, one could also argue the Greek word kai can also be interpreted in two different ways. As McDonald notes:

“The καί in the passage is usually translated “and,” that is, as a connective as in “Solomon’s Proverbs and the Wisdom,” signifying two books attributed to Solomon (Proverbs and Wisdom of Solomon). It can also be translated as an explicative as in “Solomon’s Proverbs, even (or that is) Wisdom.” In this case, it signifies only one book, namely Proverbs.”[34]

Returning to the meaning of the eta, Rogers notes:

“…some manuscripts accent the eta as if it were an article (ἡ), others do not, and it is evident that the Greek version before Stuart was read as the relative pronoun …”

Given that the difference between (ἡ and ἥ) is so minute, one would expect to find a diversity of manuscript variants in this regard. Indeed, if the word “Esther” can be inadvertently omitted by copyists – as Mr. Rogers proposes – how much more a single accent mark! The appeal to the pre-critical text Moses Stuart had in front of him is meaningless to our discussion. One must look at the standard critical edition of Eusebius by E. Schwartz, who gives his preferred reading as “ἡ καὶ Σοφία” with the eta accented as an article (“and the Wisdom”). It’s not surprising, as we suspected, that Schwartz supplies the following variant texts in his critical apparatus: “ἡ καὶ B; ἥ καὶ AT1; καὶ D; καὶ ἡ TeERM, was Weisheit ∑, quea et Λ.”[35] Rogers is on stronger ground in noting that Rufinus’ Latin renders the text as: “Salomonis Proverbia quae et Sapientia (“Proverbs of Solomon, that is Wisdom”). Although the textual evidence weighs slightly in favor of eta being an article, we cannot be confident in this reading due to the minute differences in accenting. This also applies to Rufinus’ translation, since it too is liable to error either through a faulty source text or the slip of the eye. I will leave it to the reader to decide.

Rogers also notes a third opinion proposed by Meade and Gallagher:

“…the titles in Melito’s list are all anarthrous, suggesting that the Greek eta in the phrase ἡ καὶ Σοφία (as printed by Schwartz) might not be an article but could be either a relative pronoun (ἥ; as in Rufinus’s translation, and attested in some Greek manuscripts, according to Schwartz’s apparatus) or a conjunction (ἤ; ‘or’).”[36]

Meade’s and Gallagher’s statement is not entirely accurate: The title for the twelve minor prophets (τν δώδεκα) has an article.[37] But even if all titles were anarthrous, it could equally be argued that since none of Melito’s titles use a relative pronoun or a conjunction (ἤ; ‘or’) or propose an alternative title, the eta is likely an article.

Why Proverbs?

Since Mr. Rogers proposes “Wisdom” as an alternative title for Proverbs under the heading: Disambiguating Wisdom, he doesn’t explain why Melito needed to supply an alternative title in the first place.[38] Certainly Esdras (Ezra) with all the different works that are commonly grouped under that name (Nehemiah, 1 [3] Esdras, 2 [4] Esdras or the Apocalypse of Ezra, etc.) is more in need of being disambiguated with an alternative title, yet Melito simply gives: Esdras. What other Proverbs could have circulated as being “of Solomon” than the book of Proverbs? Moreover, how could “Wisdom” being so vague and common, help disambiguate the identity of Proverbs? Rogers does not tell us.

It is here that Sirach becomes an attractive candidate for “Wisdom.” Jerome tells us (Preface to the Books of Solomon) that Hebrew Sirach had the title מִשְלֵי (Latin parabolas), the same Hebrew title as the book of Proverbs. Moreover, we learned from Jerome in the fourth century that the other books of Solomon, Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs were also joined to Hebrew Sirach “…as though it made of equal worth the likeness not only of the number of the books of Solomon, but also the kind of subjects.”[39] Had Melito given Onesimus Hebrew titles (and he meant to include Sirach), he would have said, “Of Solomon, Proverbs (Mashal) and Proverbs (Mashal), Ecclesiastes (Kohelet) and Song of Songs (Shir ha-Shirim).” Clearly, Proverbs (Mashal) needed to be disambiguated. But since Melito gives his titles according to the Septuagint, he could give (if he included Sirach): “Of Solomon, Proverbs and the Wisdom…” since Sirach’s Greek title was “the Wisdom of Jesus son of Sirach” (LXX). Furthermore, Sirach gained positive reception in the Jewish Diaspora and even within some circles of rabbinic Judaism, not to mention Christian fathers from both the east and west.[40] If such were the case, Proverbs would need to be differentiated from Sirach. If not, why provide an alternative title for Proverbs?

We now turn our attention to Rogers’ conclusion:

“The evidence best supports the conclusion that Melito’s reference to ‘Wisdom’ is just a further reference to the book of Proverbs. The inclusion of Wisdom, therefore, in this earliest of all Canon lists that has come down to us from a Christian, is not an exception to the otherwise complete exclusion of the Apocryphal and Pseudepigraphal books that Rome later formally adopted as canonical.”

The conclusion completes the circle in Rogers circular reasoning: Rogers first adjusts Melito’s list to conform to the final form of the rabbinic bible (and standard form of the Protestant canon) by virtually including Lamentations, Nehemiah, and Esther, excluding Baruch and the Epistle, and interpreting “Wisdom” as an alternative title for Proverbs. Melito is then used here in the conclusion to affirm the antiquity of the same canon.

It is also puzzling what Mr. Rogers means when he speaks of “the otherwise complete exclusion of the Apocryphal and Pseudepigraphal books that Rome later formally adopted as canonical.” Surely, he is aware – even if we restrict our inquiry to the first four centuries of the Church – that there are other Christian lists that affirm deuterocanonical books (i.e., Origen, Athanasius, Cyril of Jerusalem, Hilary of Poitiers, Pseudo-Laodicea, Cheltenham/Mommsen list, Augustine, Damasus, Hippo-Regius (393), Carthage III (397)).

On a final note, Rogers does his readers a disservice by couching the issue of the Old Testament Deuterocanon (“Apocrypha”) as a Protestant vs. “Rome” dispute. Trent wasn’t the only ecclesiastical body to affirm the Deuterocanon against Protestant claims. The Orthodox also affirmed these books at the Synod of Jerusalem (1672), which was signed by all five Orthodox patriarchs.[41] Moreover, Protestantism did not uniformly reject the Deuterocanon. Only the magisterial Reformers degraded the books to sub-canonical status. The Radical Reformers accepted the Deuterocanon as inspired Scripture and even cited it against the magisterial reformers. Even within the magisterial camp, some considered parts of the Deuterocanon as being, in some sense, inspired Scripture. It appears that it was only after the Council of Trent that Protestantism became unified in its opposition against the Deuterocanon and began to speak dogmatically against it in its confessions.[42]

Conclusion

As I mentioned at the outset of this paper, I’m currently undecided on the question of what is “Wisdom” in Melito’s list. Although Anthony Rogers’ paper failed to persuade me either way on the issue, the research that I conducted for this reply is now making me lean slightly towards the idea that it is a second book, perhaps Sirach or the Wisdom of Solomon. Although it is contestable, “ἡ καὶ Σοφία” (with the eta accented as an article “and the Wisdom”) is the preferred reading in Schwartz. Melito gives his book titles from the Septuagint and both Sirach and Wisdom could be abbreviated as “ἡ Σοφία” where Proverbs is not called “Wisdom” in the LXX, but ΠΑΡΟΙΜΙΑΙ. Proverbs is elsewhere in Christian writings called “the all-virtuous Wisdom” etc., but so are Sirach and the Wisdom of Solomon. These introductions, however, are not alternative titles for which there is no manuscript evidence (Fox), but descriptors of the Wisdom in which they were composed (McDonald). Sirach makes an attractive candidate for Melito’s “Wisdom” in that it has as strong of a reception in rabbinic Judaism as Esther (Beckwith), which is strong enough for Mr. Rogers to insist it must have been present in the list, even though it was omitted. Sirach would also provide additional explanatory power: it would explain why Melito placed it under “Of Solomon,” why Melito needed to differentiate Proverbs from Sirach, and why the title “Wisdom” was sufficient for the task, and also why Sirach could be associated with Ecclesiastes and Song of Songs (Jerome). Melito’s list would also, by omitting Esther and including Sirach, cohere with contemporary rabbinic discussions about the sacredness of both books and it would also be bringing Melito’s book title count to twenty-two, which coheres with the early rabbinic computation of twenty-two sacred books.

Table 1

If one looks at Melito’s list in terms of how he uses the nominative and genitive titles, we find the following:

1-5 Μωυσέως πέντε, (gen, singular + number)

 Γένεσις (nom, singular)

Ἔξοδος (nom, singular)

Ἀριθμοὶ  (nom, singular)

Λευιτικὸν (nom, singular)

Δευτερονόμιον, (nom, singular)

  • Ἰησοῦς Ναυῆ, (nom, singular)
  • Κριταί, (nom, plural)
  • Ῥούθ, (nom, singular)
  • Βασιλειῶν τέσσαρα, (gen, plural + number) [titled as a series]
  • Παραλειπομένων δύο, (gen, plural + number) [titled as a series]

Ψαλμῶν  (gen, plural, no number)

11 Δαυίδ, (gen, plural + nom, singular)[43]

Σολομῶνος  (gen, singular, no number)

12 Παροιμίαι (nom, singular)

ἡ καὶ Σοφία, (nom, singular)

13 Ἐκκλησιαστής, (nom, singular)

14 Ἆισμα Ἀισμάτων, (nom and gen)

15 Ἰώβ, (nom, singular)

Προφητῶν (gen, plural, no number)

16 Ἡσαΐου (gen, singular, no number)

17 Ἱερεμίου (gen, singular, no number)

18 τῶν δώδεκα ἐν μονοβίβλῳ (gen, plural “in one book”)

19 Δανιήλ, (non-declinable)

20 Ἰεζεκιήλ, (non-declinable)

21 Ἔσδρας· (nom, singular)

The pattern Melito uses is: subheading (usually using the genitive), the number of books under the subheading, and a breakdown of the individual titles (usually using the nominative case).

The first subheading is the genitive “Of Moses.” Melito adds the number five followed by a breakdown of the individual book titles in the nominative. He provides the individual titles likely to apprise Onesimus of the atypical order (Genesis, Exodus, Numbers, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy) and that the five books are to be counted individually.

The subheading “of Kingdoms” provides the number four but omits the individual titles either because the titles are part of a series (1-4 Kingdoms / ά-δ Βασιλειῶν) and/or because he wishes to indicate that all four are to be counted as one book.

The subheading “Of Omissions,” like “Of Kingdoms” provides the subheading plus number without individual titles likely for the same reasons.

The subheading “Of Psalms” does not provide a number, probably because only one title is provided (David). This would suffice to exclude all other psalms (e.g., the Psalms of Solomon).

The subheading “Of Solomon” does not provide a number. Unlike the previous subheading, the omission of a number cannot be because there is only one title included under the heading. Proverbs, Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes are undoubtedly included as well. The absence may be because it had not become a common convention to associate the books of Solomon with a specific number (as is the case with the books of Moses being known as “the five books” or Pentateuch) or more likely Melito intends for each individual title to be counted as a separate book. If “and the Wisdom” is a separate book and not an alternative title for Proverbs, the total number of titles listed by Melito would equal the common rabbinic computation of twenty-two books.

The subheading “Of Prophets” is puzzling. It is undoubtedly a subheading, but Melito does not assign a number to this category. Instead, he lists individual books. Only the twelve minor prophets receive a number, “Of the Twelve in one book” (τῶν δώδεκα ἐν μονοβίβλῳ). Either a specific number has yet to be conventionally assigned to the Prophets or Melito wishes Onesimus to understand that all the prophets (including the Twelve) are to be counted as five books.[44] When the contents of this subheading is stipulated, Melito breaks his pattern. Instead of listing the titles using the nominative, as he has done with previous individual titles. He gives Isaiah and Jeremiah as genitives (“Of Isaiah” and “Of Jeremiah” respectively). Daniel and Ezekiel are indeclinable, but they certainly would be included under the category “Of Prophets.” Why the change? It is tempting to see “Of Jeremiah” an indication that more than one work is included under this title (i.e., Lamentations, Baruch, and the Epistle). Before Origen, these books were widely quoted by Christians as coming from “Jeremiah.” It would also provide a solution for the tension of Lamentations, a book universally received both in Christianity and rabbinic Judaism, being omitted in this list. However, we have seen that the genitive is used for only a single work (i.e., “Of Psalms, David”). Moreover, if the genitive “Of Jeremiah” signals the presence of unnamed combined works, what would “Of Isaiah” indicate? It seems best, therefore, simply to state that “Of Prophets” is intended to serve as a subheading for the individual titles listed and that if other titles are intended to be included under Jeremiah, the use of the genitive does not lend support.[45]

Copyright © 2025 Gary Michuta. All rights reserved. For private use only. Permission required from the author for any public use or distribution or publication.


[1] Anthony Rogers’ paper can be accessed at: https://www.academia.edu/126226412/Melito_and_the_Wisdom_of_Pseudo_Solomon?email_work_card=title&li=0

[2] For example, Rogers’ citation of my book Why Catholic Bibles Are Bigger is incomplete making it impossible to know which edition he is referencing (Rogers, p. 2 FN 3).

[3] Rogers, p. 1 FN 1.

[4] When Mr. Rogers refers to the Protestant canon, he is speaking of the final form of the Protestant canon that was eventually adopted by some of the magisterial Protestants and later became its universal norm. See Matthew J. Korpman’s “The Protestant Reception of the Apocrypha” in The Oxford Handbook of the Apocrypha, ed. Gerbern S. Oegema, Oxford University Press), 2021. pp. 74-95.

[5] Reid, George. “Canon of the Old Testament.” In The Catholic Encyclopedia: An International Work of Reference on the Constitution, Doctrine, Discipline, and History of the Catholic Church, edited by Charles G. Herbermann, Edward A. Pace, Condé B. Pallen, Thomas J. Shahan, and John J. Wynne. Vol. I–XV. New York: The Encyclopedia Press; The Universal Knowledge Foundation, 1907–1913.

[6] Eusebius of Caesaria. “The Church History of Eusebius.” In Eusebius: Church History, Life of Constantine the Great, and Oration in Praise of Constantine, edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, translated by Arthur Cushman McGiffert, Vol. 1. A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series. New York: Christian Literature Company, 1890. p. 206, FN 6.

[7] The word “canon” is placed in quotes since it would be anachronistic to use it to describe Melito’s list, which dates to around AD 170. The earliest indisputable use of canon to describe the contents of Scripture is found in Athanasius’ Defense of the Nicene Definition (De Decretis), 18, which dated between AD 350-356 (cf. Bruce M. Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament its Origin, Development, and Significance (Oxford: Oxford University Press), 1987. p. 292. Also, Meade and Gallagher, The Biblical Canon Lists from Early Christianity: Texts and Analysis (Oxford; Oxford University Press), 2017. p. xx). It’s use – in this fashion – seems to be distinctly Christian. The Jews of the second Christian century spoke instead of the sacredness of a book rather than its canonicity (Lee Martin McDonald. The Biblical Canon: Its Origin, Transmission, and Authority. Grand Rapids, MI: Hendrickson Publishers, 2011. p. 25-26, 58.

[8] Rogers, p. 2.

[9] Gary Michuta, Why Catholic Bibles Are Bigger: The Untold Story of the Lost Books of the Protestant Bible (Pinkney, MI: The Grotto Press), p. 75-76.

[10] See m. Eduyoth 5.3; m. Yadaim 3.5; Tosefta Yadaim 2.14; b. Megillah 7a; b. Sanhedrin 100a. As Roger Beckwith notes: “…[Esther] is in the same position as Ecclesiasticus [Sirach], of which the received view, not just the opinion of individuals, was that it did not make the hands unclean (Tos. Yadaim 2.13).” (Beckwith, Roger T. The Old Testament Canon of the New Testament Church and Its Background in Early Judaism. London: SPCK, 1985. p. 279).

[11] Athanasius does not place Esther on the same tier as the “canonized books” (Festal Letter 39.4); Gregory of Nazianzus omits it entirely (Carm. 1.12.5); Amphilochius lists Esther with the comment “some add Esther” (Iambi ad Seleucum 2.51–88), Pseudo-Athanasius (Synopsis of Sacred Scripture) places Esther among the second category of books outside the canon stating: “However, some of the ancients have said that, among the Hebrews, Esther is held to be canonical.” Origen (Hist. eccl. 6.25.2), Epiphanius (Weights and Measures, 4 and 23), Hilary of Poitiers (Prologue in the Book of Psalms 15), and Jerome (Preface to the Books of Samuel and Kings) places Esther at the end of their lists.

[12] Fragments of Ezra were found, but not Nehemiah. The absence of Nehemiah may be due to its length. It simply did not survive the ages. McDonald believes that the arguments for the inclusion of Nehemiah due to the presence of Ezra is “…anachronistically flawed and is not well supported. See arguments against the presence of Nehemiah at Qumran in Davies, Scribes and Schools, 154, 197; and VanderKam, ‘Ezra-Nehemiah.’” (McDonald, 2011, p. 128, FN 32). Regarding Esther, McDonald writes: “All of the HB books, except perhaps Esther and Nehemiah, have been found at Qumran. In the case of Esther, it is likely that it was never considered as a sacred text among the Covenanters at Qumran not just because no portion of it was found there, but more importantly, it is not cited, quoted, or alluded to in any of the literature found at Qumran, and the festival of Purim, which is central to the later use of the book, is not mentioned in any of the calendar texts at Qumran.” (McDonald, Lee Martin. The Formation of the Biblical Canon. Vol. I & II. London; Oxford; New York; New Delhi; Sydney: Bloomsbury; Bloomsbury T&T Clark: An Imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 2017. 1.139).

[13] Rogers incorrectly argues that “There is no evidence that anyone ever combined Esther with another book” (Rogers, p. 2, FN 5). Pseudo-Athanasius (Synopsis of Sacred Scripture), however, states “…so Esther is also included with some other book [εἰς ἕτερον ἕν], and by this means they would still complete the number of their canonical books at twenty-two.” (English translation accessed here: https://www.bible-researcher.com/sss.html). The vagueness of this rather singular late fifth or early sixth century pseudonymous writing gives us reason to doubt it’s testimony. Nevertheless, there is (contra Rogers) some evidence Esther was combined. This, however, is not applicable to Melito since he does not state that he is giving a twenty-two-book list. Curiously, Melito’s list only reaches the number of twenty-two if his “and the Wisdom” refers to a second book. If Esther is combined with “some other book” his list provides only twenty-one titles, a very atypical number for rabbinic Scripture. Moreover, it would require the impossible task of demonstrating that such a combination commonly occurred in the late second Christian century. Rogers wisely does not pursue this line of argument arguing instead that Esther’s omission was accidental. Roger Beckwith, who, like Rogers, wishes to affirm the Protestant Old Testament canon is on stronger ground arguing that Melito purposefully omitted Esther due to the influence of second century rabbinic disputes over the book (Beckwith, Roger T. The Old Testament Canon of the New Testament Church and Its Background in Early Judaism. (London: SPCK), 1985, p. 322).

[14] Rogers, p. 2 and FN 6.

[15] Origen, apparently accidentally omitting the Twelve minor prophets, only reaches his designated number of twenty-two books through the inclusion of Maccabees (Hengel, Martin, Roland Deines, and Mark E. Biddle. The Septuagint as Christian Scripture: Its Prehistory and the Problem of Its Canon. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2002. p.11).

[16] The Scriptural use of Baruch by such early Church fathers as Irenaeus of Lyon, Athenagoras, Hippolytus of Rome, Cyril of Jerusalem, Didymus the Blind; Epiphanius, Hilary of Poitiers, Gregory of Nazianzus, Amphilochius, Ambrose, Augustine, Rufinus, Jerome, as well as by heretics (e.g., Pelagius, Coelestius, and the Meletians). The early Greek fathers (Irenaeus, Athenagoras, Clement of Alexandria, Methodius of Olympus) quoted Baruch as coming from Jeremiah. It is only in the third century (with Origen) does Baruch begin to be distinguished from Jeremiah. Baruch, the Epistle, or both are explicitly included in several early lists (Origen, Athanasius (“canonized” tier), Cyril of Jerusalem, Hilary of Poitier, Ps-Council of Laodicea (Canon 60), Epiphanius (Panarion 1.1.8.6; Weights and Measures, 3-5, although they are omitted in Weights and Measures, 22, etc.). They may also be virtually included in other lists (e.g., the Bryennios List, Rufinus, the Apostolic Canons, Gregory of Nazianzus, Amphilochius, Damasus, Hippo-Regius, Carthage III, Carthage XIV; Innocent I). Baruch and the Epistle are present in Codex Vaticanus, Alexandrinus, and the reconstructed text of the Sinaiticus (See Redditt, Paul L. “Baruch, Book of.” In The Lexham Bible Dictionary, edited by John D. Barry, David Bomar, Derek R. Brown, Rachel Klippenstein, Douglas Mangum, Carrie Sinclair Wolcott, Lazarus Wentz, Elliot Ritzema, and Wendy Widder. Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2016), as well as the Theodotion (Kaige Recension), Aquila, Old Latin, Syriac Peshitta, and the Syro-Hexaplar. Perhaps most significant of these is a fragment of Baruch under the heading of Aquila is found in the Codex Barberinus (LXX86). Aquila, who was a disciple of Rabbi Akiva in the early 2nd Christian century, produced his translation as a Greek translation of the Hebrew rabbinic Bible. This fragment may indicate that, at least in some rabbinic bibles circulating at the time of the Melito included the book of Baruch.

[17] The early Anabaptists believed Baruch and the Epistle were inspired – as was the rest of the Deuterocanon – along with John Calvin, who apparently believed that Baruch was an authentic part of the canonical Scripture and did not include it among the Apocrypha. See Korpman, 2021 p. 78. It was later, after the Council of Trent reaffirm the canon, that Protestantism hardened its stance against the “Apocrypha.”

[18] Rogers, p. 3.

[19] Strictly speaking, the words “of Solomon,” does not mean that the work is solely the product of Solomon. Proverbs is attributed to Solomon even though it is not entirely Solomonic, just as Psalms is attributed to David even though many are not Davidic. Perhaps it is better to see “of Solomon” as referring to a group or sub-category of books. Melito seems to use the genitive as headers in his list (“of Moses,” “of Kingdoms,” “of Omissions,” “of Psalms,” “of Solomon,” “of Prophets”) with the only exceptions being Isaiah, Jeremiah, and the Twelve, which are genitives listed under the header “of Prophets.” Otherwise, all other book titles are in the nominative. If this is so, then “of Solomon” would not refer to authorship – any more than the books of Kingdoms were written by “kingdoms” or the books of Omissions were written by someone named “omission” – but it would reference a group of books under the popular category of Solomon. See Table 1.

[20] Augustine notes that the grouping of Wisdom and Sirach among the book of Solomon was already an ancient custom: “But it has been customary to ascribe to Solomon other two, of which one is called Wisdom, the other Ecclesiasticus, on account of some resemblance of style,—but the more learned have no doubt that they are not his; yet of old the Church, especially the Western, received them into authority (City of God, 17.20.1). Earlier, Origen witnesses to Sirach’s inclusion among the books of Solomon as a customary practice: “In the book which among us is usually considered to be among the books of Solomon and is called “Ecclesiasticus,” but among the Greeks is called ‘The Wisdom of Jesus, son of Sirach,’ it is written: “All wisdom is from God.” (Origen. Homilies on Numbers. Edited by Christopher A. Hall, Thomas C. Oden, and Gerald L. Bray. Translated by Thomas P. Scheck. Ancient Christian Texts. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic: An Imprint of InterVarsity Press, 2009., p. 112. Homily on Numbers, 18.3.2). The earliest reference to Sirach coming from Solomon appears to be Clement of Alexandria (Stromata 2.5) “Accordingly it is rightly said in Solomon, ‘Wisdom is in the mouth of the faithfully [Sirach 15:10].’” (ANF, 352) (δὲ ἀρετῶν μήτηρ ἡ πίστις. εἰκότως οὖν εἴρηται παρὰ τῷ Σολομῶντι σοφία ἐν στόματι πιστῶν / Merito ergo dictum est apud Salomonem: Sapientia est in ore fidelium). The Stromata is dated between AD 198-203 only a few decades after Melito. As also Cyprian of Carthage (Epistle 3.2; 59:20; 64:2; Cyp., Ad Fortunatum 9; Cyp., Ad Quirinium 2.1; 3:6, 12, 16, 41, 53, 96, 97, 109; 113); Origen (First Principles 4.1.26; Hom. Num. 18.3.2; Hom. Jos. 11.2); Gregory of Nazianzus (Orat. 16.3); Hilary of Poitiers (Tract. in XIV. Ps. 14; Tract. in Ps. LXVI. 9). The Cheltingham List (Mommsen Catalog) probably groups Sirach under “Solomon” (Ellis, Old Testament, 25; Meade and Gallagher, 2017, p. 235 FN 89). The Decree of Damasus (382) attaches Wisdom and Sirach to the three books of Solomon and the decrees of Hippo Regius (393); Carthage III (397); Innocent I (401); Carthage XVII (419) include it with the five books of Solomon.

[21] Eusebius of Caesaria. Preparation of the Gospel, 12.34.

[22] Bruce, p. 71.

[23] Moses, Stuart, Critical History and Defense of the Old Testament (New York: Mark H. Newman, 1845), p. 257, as quoted in Rogers, p. 4.

[24] McDonald, 2017, 1.318-319.

[25] McDonald, 2017, 1.319.

[26] Anchor Yale Bible Commentary p. 53

[27] Eusebius of Caesaria. “The Church History of Eusebius.” In Eusebius: Church History, Life of Constantine the Great, and Oration in Praise of Constantine, edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, translated by Arthur Cushman McGiffert, Vol. 1. A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Second Series. New York: Christian Literature Company, 1890., p. 200, FN 4.

[28] Emphasis mine. C.H. Toy. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Proverbs (ICC; Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark), 1899, p. v.

[29] Preface to the Book of Solomon. The English translation gives “ever-virtuous book,” Jerome imports the Greek panaretos into his Latin text: “Fertur et πανάρετος Iesu filii Sirach liber, et alius ψευδεπιγραφος, qui Sapientia Solomonis inscribitur.” (“Prologus Hieronymi in Libris Solomonis.” In Weber-Gryson, Biblia Sacra Vulgata. 5th edition (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft), 2007. p. 957.

[30] Epiphanius, Weights and Measures, 4 (Epiphanius’ Treatise on Weights and Measures: the Syriac Version, ed. James E. Dean, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press), 1935. p. 18.

[31] Eusebius of Cæsarea. The Proof of the Gospel: Being the Demonstratio Evangelica of Eusebius of Cæsarea. Edited by W. J. Sparrow-Simpson and W. K. Lowther Clarke. Translated by W. J. Ferrar. Translations of Christian Literature: Series I: Greek Texts. London; New York: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge; The Macmillan Company, 1920. (Demonstatio Evangelica, Book 8, chapter 2), 2.128. Greek text from I.A. [Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller 23. Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1913]. P. 380, ln. 14-15.

[32] Melito’s eccentric book order and numbering – as Rogers himself notes in Page 2 of his article – also places it out of conformity with Jewish and Christian lists. This too should lower one’s confidence in using the later lists to correct the faults of Melito.

[33] According to the preferred text given in the standard critical Greek text of Eusebius (i.e., E. Schwartz Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller der erstern drei Jahrhunderte (Leipzig: J. C. Hinrich’sche Buchhandlung), 1903. Band 9, p. 388).

[34] McDonald, 2017, 1.318.

[35] Schwartz, 1903, 9.388. The same critical text is used for the Loeb Classical Library series in which Lake translates it as “the Proverbs of Solomon and his Wisdom…” (Kirsopp, Lake. “Preface.” In The Ecclesiastical History and 2: English Translation, edited by T. E. Page, E. Capps, W. H. D. Rouse, L. A. Post, and E. H. Warmington, translated by Kirsopp Lake and J. E. L. Oulton, Vol. 1. The Loeb Classical Library. London; New York; Cambridge, MA: William Heinemann; G. P. Putnam’s Sons; Harvard University Press, 1926–1932, 1.394).

[36] Edmon L. Gallagher and John D. Meade, The Biblical Canon Lists from Early Christianity (Oxford University Press, 2017), p. 81 quoted in Rogers, p. 4.

[37] There are a few relatively rare examples where the twelve minor prophets are listed without an article (The Council of Laodicea, canon 60, “ιηʹ Δώδεκα προφῆται,” Pseudo-Athanasius Synopsis “Προφῆται δώδεκα, εἰς ἓν ἀριθμούμενοι βιβλίον, although later in the text it is given with the article).

[38] Rogers, p. 3.

[39] (Emphasis mine). “Quorum priorem et hebraicum repperi, non Ecclesiasticum ut apud Latinos, sed Parabolas praenotatum; cui iuncti erant Ecclesiastes et Canticum canticorum, ut similitudinem Salomonis, non solum librorum numero, sed et materiarum genere coaequaret.” (Weber-Gryson, Biblia Sacra Vulgata, p. 957 ln 13-17). If such ambiguity existed in the fourth Christian century when the rabbinic canon was more widely received and better defined, how much more confusion would exist in the second Christian century when rabbinic Judaism was formed a mere generation earlier?

[40] Despite Akiva ben Yoseph’s rejection of Sirach (Tos. Yadayim 2:13; y. Sanhedrin 28a), it is nevertheless quoted (often by memory) as Scripture in rabbinic literature (b. Hagigah 13a; y. Hagigah 77c; b. Yebamot 63b; Genesis Rabbah 8:2b). Sirach is quoted in b. B. Qamma 92B as coming from the Writings (Ketuvim). Fragments of Sirach were found at Qumran and Massada. Both sites have texts from Sirach (2QSir and MasSir [Mas1h]) that uses a stichographic layout that is usually reserved for biblical texts (Emmanuel Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (Fortress Press, 2012), p. 201-202). Skehan and Di Lella note: “This procedure [the stichographic layout], usually reserved for books that were later received as canonical, is another indication of the special reverence the Essenes and others who were Palestinian Jews accorded to The Wisdom of Ben Sira” (Skehan, Patrick W., and Alexander A. Di Lella O.F.M. The Wisdom of Ben Sira: A New Translation with Notes, Introduction and Commentary. Vol. 39. Anchor Yale Bible. New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 2008), 39.20.). It’s pre-rabbinic acceptance is evinced by its presence in the Greek Septuagint (all major codices) and its Christian reception in later translations (Old Latin, Syriac, Syro-hexaplar).

[41] The Confession of Dositheos (Chapter VI) (March 16, 1672). See the Old Testament in Eastern Orthodox Tradition, 127).

[42] For a good overview, see Matthew J. Korpsman, “The Protestant Reception of the Apocrypha” in The Oxford Handbook of the Apocrypha, ed. Gerbern S. Oegema (Oxford University Press), 2021, pp. 74-80.

[43] Cyril – και βιβλος Ψαλμων,  Laodicae –  Βίβλος Ψαλμῶν; Athanasius Bίβλος Ψαλμῶν; Greg naz – Ἔπειτα ∆αυΐδ; Amphilocius – Ψαλμῶν τε βίβλον; Apostolic Canons – ἕν· Ψαλμοὶ ἑκατὸν πεντήκοντα; Epiphanisu – δεκάτη τὸ Ψαλτήριον, Panarion /  Ψαλτήριον ∆αβιτικὸν, ἔχον ψαλμοὺς ρναʹ· οὗ ἡ ἀρχὴ, ἤγουν ὁ πρῶτος ψαλμός·

[44] The next earliest list to assign a number to the books of the Prophet is Cyril of Jerusalem (313-386), but this number may be merely a part of Cyril’s running count of books (Catechetical Lectures 4.33). Gregory of Nazianzus (c. 323-390) is more certain when he states, “And similarly five of prophetic inspiration…” (“Καὶ πένθ’ ὁμοίως Πνεύματος προφητικοῦ).

[45] Melito concludes his list with Ἔσδρας, which corresponds to several Hebrew manuscript traditions which concludes with Ezra-Nehemiah (most notable the Aleppo and Leningrad (St. Petersburg) codices, as well as Adath Deborim, Harley 5710-11, Model Cox, Arundel Orient, Add. 15251, Ms Orient 2626-28).

WHAT KIND OF SAVIOR IS JESUS?

In this post I will revisit the issue of the work of Christ in accomplishing the salvation of mankind, and its implication on his divinity.

SAVIOR OF THE WORLD

The God-breathed Scriptures proclaim that God the Father raised up a king from the physical line of David to save not just Israel, but the whole world:

“And his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit, and prophesied, saying: ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, For He visited and accomplished redemption for His people, And raised up a horn of salvation for us In the house of David His servant—’” Luke 1:67-69

“For today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:11

“And after He had removed him, He raised up David to be their king, about whom He also said, bearing witness, ‘I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after My heart, who will do all My will.’ From the seed of this man, according to promise, God has brought to Israel a Savior, Jesus,” Acts 13:22-23

“They said to the woman, ‘It is no longer because of your words that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is indeed the Savior of the world.” John 4:42

“For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” John 3:17

“If any one hears my sayings and does not keep them, I do not judge him; for I did not come to judge the world but to save the world.” John 12:47

“For the husband is the head of the wife, as Christ also is the head of the church, He Himself being the Savior of the body.” Ephesians 5:23

“And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son as the Savior of the world.” 1 John 4:14

GOD OUR SAVIOR

What makes this teaching rather amazing is that the inspired writings affirm that God (namely the Father) is the Savior of all mankind, specifically of believers:

“And Mary said: ‘My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,” Luke 1:46-47

“This is good, and it is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” 1 Timothy 2:3-4

“For to this end we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of those who believe.” 1 Timothy 4:10

“not pilfering, but demonstrating all good faith so that they will adorn the doctrine of God our Savior (ten tou soteros hemon Theou) in everything. For the grace of God (tou Theou) has appeared, bringing salvation to all men, instructing us that, denying ungodliness and worldly desires, we should live sensibly, righteously, and godly in the present age,” Titus 2:10-12

YHWH ALONE SAVES

The Hebrew Bible further emphasizes that the God who alone saves is YHWH, which is why believers are exhorted to have no other savior besides him:

“Yet I have been Yahweh your God Since the land of Egypt; And you were not to know any god except Me, And there is no savior besides Me. I Myself knew you in the wilderness, In the land of drought.” Hosea 13:4-5  

Salvation belongs to Yahweh; Your blessing be upon Your people! Selah.” Psalm 3:8

“But as for me, I will sacrifice to You With the voice of thanksgiving. That which I have vowed I will pay. Salvation belongs to Yahweh.” Jonah 2:9

YHWH BECOMES HUMAN

Here is where it gets truly remarkable.

The NT writers identify Jesus as the God who saves all those who believe in him:

“At the same time we wait for the blessed hope and the glorious appearance of our great God and savior Jesus Christ (tou megalou Theou kai soteros hemon ‘Iesou Christou).” Titus 2:13 Common English Bible (CEB)

“Simeon Peter, a slave and apostle of Jesus Christ, To those who have received the same kind of faith as ours, by the righteousness of our God and Savior, Jesus Christ (tou Theou hemon kai soteros ‘Iesou Christou):” 2 Peter 1:1

Peter employs the same Greek construction elsewhere in his inspired writing that he does in the aforementioned verse:

“for in this way the entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (tou Kyriou hemon kai soteros ‘Iesou Christou) will be abundantly supplied to you.” 2 Peter 1:11

“For if they are overcome, having both escaped the defilements of the world by the knowledge of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (tou Kyriou hemon kai soteros ‘Iesou Christou) and having again been entangled in them, then the last state has become worse for them than the first.” 2 Peter 2:20

“that you should remember the words spoken beforehand by the holy prophets and the commandment of the Lord and Savior (tou Kyriou kai soteros) spoken by your apostles… but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (tou Kyriou hemon kai soteros ‘Iesou Christou). To Him be the glory, both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.” 2 Peter 3:2, 18

Would anyone deny that these texts all describe Jesus as our Lord and Savior, or that the blessed Apostle concludes his writing with a doxology or ascription of praise to the risen Lord? Obviously not.

Therefore, what contextual and/or exegetical grounds would there be for denying the fact that in 2 Pet. 1:1 Jesus is being identified as our God and Savior seeing that it employs the same exact Greek construction found in all these other verses?  

The following Evangelical scholars explain why the phrase employed by Paul and Peter refers to a single individual Person, namely, Jesus Christ:    

“God and Savior”

In both Titus 2:13 and 2 Peter 1:1, the titles theos (“God”) and sōtēr (“Savior”) are joined by kai (“and”) and associated together by the article in front of theos. Thus, Titus 2:13 says, tou megalou theou kai sōtēros hēmōn (lit., “the great God and Savior of us”) and 2 Peter 1:1 says, tou theou hēmōn kai sōtēros (“the God of us and Savior”). In idiomatic English, we put the personal pronoun first and do not use the article with “God,” hence these expressions are properly translated “our (great) God and Savior.”

Beyond the grammatical analysis of the two texts, the linking of the two nouns “God” and “Savior” would have been instantly familiar to both Jews and Gentiles in the broader Greco-Roman culture. “God and Savior” (theos kai sōtēr) “was a stereotyped formula common in first-century religious terminology,” used in pagan culture, for example, in reference to Julius Caesar.38 In the Septuagint, the two nouns are used together for the Lord God of Israel some twenty-two times (e.g., Deut. 32:15; Isa. 45:15, 21; Mic. 7:7; Hab. 3:18). In fact, other than a handful of uses of the word in reference to the “judges” who functioned as earthly, military deliverers of Israel (Judg. 3:9, 15; 12:3; Neh. 9:27), the Old Testament used the word “Savior” only in reference to God. Jesus, of course, is not a military deliverer. He is indeed a Savior for Israel (Acts 13:23), but he is far more: he is “the Savior of the world” (John 4:42; 1 John 4:14). Jesus is our heavenly Savior (Phil. 3:20) who saves us from sin and death (Acts 5:31; 2 Tim. 1:10; Titus 2:13–14). The New Testament uses the title only in reference to God (e.g., Luke 1:47; 1 Tim. 1:1; 2:3; 4:10) and Christ (e.g., Luke 2:11; Eph. 5:23). This textual background shows that the title “Savior” in New Testament usage is a title of deity—one routinely conjoined with the title “God.” Thus, when a reader comes across a text that speaks of “God and Savior,” they naturally and rightly understand “Savior” as a descriptive title of the one called “God.”

In short, both grammatical analysis (Sharp’s rule) and the semantics of joining the two titles together (“God and Savior”) constitute strong evidence for understanding the expressions “our great God and Savior” (Titus 2:13) and “our God and Savior” (2 Peter 1:1) as each referring to one person. Arguing that in these texts “God” refers to the Father while “Savior” refers to Jesus Christ is simply not plausible. Either both refer to the Father, or both refer to Christ.

38. Harris, Jesus as God, 178–79. (Robert M. Bowman Jr. & J. Ed Komoszewski, The Incarnate Christ and His Critics: A Biblical Defense [Kregel Academic, Grand Rapids, MI, 2024], Part 3: The Name of Jesus: Jesus’ Divine Names, Chapter 24: Jesus as “God” in the Rest of the New Testament, pp. 459-460; emphasis mine)

The writers anticipate and refute a potential objection against the blessed Apostles’ identifying Christ as our (great) God and Savior:

The only hypothetical way around the conclusion that 2 Peter 1:1 calls Jesus God is to argue that “Savior Jesus Christ” functions as a compound proper name, comparable to the way many think that “Lord Jesus Christ” does in Paul’s epistles. There are two very simple and quite decisive reasons why this is just not possible.

First, the expression “Savior Jesus Christ” never appears anywhere in the New Testament except when linked to another divine title for Jesus, specifically “God” or “Lord.” The word “Savior” does occur in apposition once to “Jesus” (Acts 13:23) and once in apposition to “Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil. 3:20). One also finds “our Savior” in apposition to “Christ Jesus,” sometimes before that name (2 Tim. 1:10; Titus 2:13) and sometimes after it (Titus 1:4; 3:6).

But “Savior” never occurs as part of a compound proper name in the New Testament. The point here is not that the New Testament authors could not call him “Savior Jesus Christ” (a claim that would be comparable to asserting that the New Testament authors could not call Jesus “God”), but that such an expression is not a compound proper name for Jesus (for which it would need to be recognizable as such through frequent usage). Thus, one not only never sees “Savior Jesus Christ” as a compound name, but one also never sees “Savior Jesus” (the only place where the words “Savior” and “Jesus” appear alone together and immediately adjacent is Acts 13:23, where everyone agrees the two nouns are in apposition, “a Savior, Jesus”). In fact, one never finds “Savior” standing alone as a designation for Jesus, whereas one does, of course, find both “Lord” and “Christ” so functioning numerous times in the New Testament. If “Savior Jesus Christ” is not a recognizable compound name with precedent anywhere else in the New Testament, it is unjustifiable to treat it as one in 2 Peter 1:1.

The second problem is even easier to understand. If we treat “Savior Jesus Christ” as a proper name in 2 Peter 1:1, then we must do so in the other texts in 2 Peter (1:11; 2:20; 3:18), which would mean that those texts are referring to two persons: someone called “our Lord,” and someone else called “Savior Jesus Christ.” Otherwise, we would be treating these texts as referring to Jesus using nonsense expressions comparable to “our Lord and Jesus.” But again, everyone agrees that the expression “our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” refers to one person, namely Jesus.

Some people argue that this text cannot call Jesus God because “God” is clearly distinguished from “Jesus our Lord” in the very next verse: “May grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord” (2 Peter 1:2). This objection, though, assumes that the New Testament cannot affirm both that Jesus is God and that he is distinct from God. To the contrary, in at least five other New Testament texts we find such allegedly “contradictory” statements side by side (John 1:1; John 1:18; John 20:17, 28, 31; Heb. 1:8–9; 1 John 5:20). Rather than fudge the texts to make them seem unproblematic to our minds, we should consider the possibility that these texts are revealing a paradoxical truth about the very nature of God.

The salutation in 2 Peter 1:2 follows the standard practice in New Testament epistles of wishing “grace and peace” to the readers from God the Father and the Lord Jesus (Rom. 1:7; 1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; etc.). The opening description of the readers as “those who have obtained a faith of equal standing with ours by the righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ” (v. 1) is unique in the New Testament, and thus does not follow a pre-set form or pattern but is composed freely.47 It would therefore be a mistake to try to conform verse 1 to fit what one assumes theologically is the meaning of the formulaic salutation in verse 2. In any case, Christians should accept both statements: Jesus Christ is “our God and Savior,” and he is someone distinct from the person customarily called “God.” The epistle of 2 Peter, then, opens by affirming that Jesus Christ is “our God and Savior.” It closes, appropriately, with a doxology of praise to Jesus Christ: “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen” (2 Peter 3:18). The verbal parallels in those opening and closing verses between “our God and Savior Jesus Christ” and “our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” form an undeniable inclusio (literary “bookends”) and thus confirm that 2 Peter 1:1 calls Jesus God. The inclusio actually includes 2 Peter 1:2 as well, which wishes the readers “grace . . . in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord,” corresponding to Peter’s closing exhortation to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (3:18). The closing part of the inclusio with its doxology directing eternal glory to Jesus Christ adds further evidence that we should take the text to mean what it rather clearly means. Thus, 2 Peter provides stunningly clear affirmations that Jesus Christ is indeed our Lord and our God. Recognizing this is not merely an academic exercise; it is a summons to grow in our relationship with Jesus Christ and to begin living in such a way as to glorify him forever.48

47. Richard J. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, WBC 50 (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1983), 168.

48. On 2 Peter 1:1, see further Harris, Jesus as God, 229–38; Terrance Callan, “The Christology of the Second Letter of Peter,” Bib 82 (2001): 253–63. (Ibid., pp. 464-466; emphasis mine)

Here is what the renowned Evangelical NT Greek grammarian and scholar Dr. Daniel B. Wallace stated after surveying the literature on the subject of Granville Sharp’s first rule as it relates to the Deity of Christ:

In the statement of this rule, Sharp only discussed substantives (i.e., nouns, substantival adjectives, substantival participles) of personal description, not those which referred to things, and only in the singular, not the plural.  But whether he intended the rule to apply to impersonal nouns and/or plurals can hardly be determined from this definition.  As well, he did not clearly exclude proper names from the rule’s application.  However, a perusal of his monograph reveals that he felt the rule could be applied absolutely only to personal, singular, non-proper nouns.  For example, two pages later he points out that “there is no exception or instance of the like mode of expression, that I know of, which necessarily requires a construction different from what is here laid down, EXCEPT the nouns be proper names, or in the plural number; in which case there are many exceptions . . . .”14  Later on he explicitly states that impersonal constructions are within the purview of his second, third, fifth, and sixth rules, but not the first.15  In an appendix Sharp chastises Blunt for bringing in impersonal constructions as exceptions to the rule.16

In other words, in the construction article-noun-καί-noun, Sharp delineated four requirements which he felt needed to be met if the two nouns were necessarily to be seen as having the same referent:17 both nouns must be (1) personal—i.e., they must refer to a person, not a thing; (2) common epithets—i.e., not proper names; (3) in the same case;18 and (4) singular in number.19  The significance of these requirements can hardly be overestimated, for those who have misunderstood Sharp’s rule have done so almost without exception because they were unaware of the restrictions that Sharp set forth.20 (Wallace, Sharp Redivivus? – A Reexamination of the Granville Sharp Rule; emphasis mine)

Wallace notes that there are no exceptions to Sharp’s first rule, if and when it is properly articulated/delineated, a fact even admitted by Sharp’s detractors:

The monotonous pattern of personal singular substantives in the TSKS construction indicating an identical referent immediately places such substantives in a different category from proper names, impersonal nouns, or plural nouns. The statistics accentuate this difference: in this construction there are about a dozen personal proper names in the NT (none having an identical referent); close to fifty impersonal nouns (only one unambiguously having the same referent); more than seventy plural substantives (little more than a third having an identical referent); and eighty TSKS constructions fitting the structural requirements of the rule84 (the christologically significant texts excepted), all of which apparently having an identical referent. It is evident that Sharp’s limitation to personal singular substantives does indeed have substance; he seems to have articulated a genuine principle of NT grammar.  But is his rule inviolable? C. Kuehne, in his second article of a seven-part series entitled “The Greek Article and the Doctrine of Christ’s Deity,”85 discusses all the instances in the NT which meet the requirements for the rule.86 He summarizes his findings by stating that “Sharp claimed that his rule applied uniformly to such passages, and I indeed could not find a single exception.”87 Kuehne is not alone in his view of these texts. None of Sharp’s adversaries was able to produce a single exception to his rule within the pages of the NT.  Calvin Winstanley, Sharp’s most able opponent, conceded that Sharp’s “first rule has a real foundation in the idiom of the language . . .”88 And later, he declares, “Now, Sir, if your rule and principles of criticism must be permitted to close up every other source of illustration, there is an end of all farther enquiry . . .”89—an obvious concession that, apart from the christologically significant texts, Winstanley could produce no exceptions within the NT corpus.  Finally, he admits as much when he writes, “There are, you say, no exceptions, in the New Testament, to your rule; that is, I suppose, unless these particular texts [i.e., the ones Sharp used to adduce Christ’s deity] be such. . . . it is nothing surprising to find all these particular texts in question appearing as exceptions to your rule, and the sole exceptions . . . in the New Testament . . .”90 We must conclude, then, that (suspending judgment on the christologically significant texts) Sharp’s rule is indeed an inviolable canon of NT syntactical usage.91 (Ibid.; emphasis mine)

And this is what Wallace wrote elsewhere after examining thousands of examples of Sharp’s first rule and three to four million Greek words:

After perusing some three to four million words of Greek text, from classical Greek through the first millennium CE, I was amazed at how consistently valid this principle is. At the outset of this investigation, I fully expected to find several exceptions to the rule, including those that did not readily yield themselves to linguistic explanation. But after observing probably thousands of TSKS constructions, my own reticence to fully accept Sharp’s rule as valid has been overturned. (Wallace, Granville Sharp’s Canon and Its Kin: Semantics and Significance (Studies in Biblical Greek) [Peter Lang Inc., International Academic Publishers; New edition, 2008], pp. 281-282; emphasis mine)   

Wallace also confirms what Bowman & Komozweski wrote in respect to the phrase “God [and] Savior (theos [kai] soter)”, namely, that this was a fixed expression that always referred to a single individual, not two:

2. Θεὸς Σωτήρ in the Milieu of the First Century

A second confirmation (related to Titus 2:13 and 2 Pet 1:1) can be found in the juxtaposition of θεός and σωτήρ in the milieu of the first Christian century. Several scholars have pointed out the fact that θεός and σωτήρ were often predicated of one person in the ancient world. Some, in fact, have assumed that θεὸς σωτήρ was predicated of Jesus only after 70 CE and in direct opposition to the imperial cult.171 Although it is probable that hellenistic religious usage helped the church in how it expressed its Christology, the primary impetus for the content of that Christology more than likely came from a different source.  Moehlmann, in his dissertation on this topic,172 after canvassing the use of the two terms in Greco-Roman civilization, argues that in Jewish literature (including the OT) σωτήρ was “usually associated with and generally restricted to God.”173 He then argues, convincingly I think, that the use of this double epithet for Jesus was due to the growing conviction of the primitive church that Christ was in fact divine. 

To put it tersely, to say soter was to say theos. When the author of the epistle to Titus says, “looking for the blessed hope and epiphany of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ,” he summarizes the ordinary content of the soter-idea in the culture of his day. Theos soter is a rather fixed, inseparable combination in the civilization of the Roman empire. “No one could be a god any longer unless he was also a savior” had its complement in no one could be a savior without being a god.174

But what about the precise expression θεὸς σωτήρ? Whence did it come—and was it ever used of more than one person? Within the pages of the LXX, one finds this exact construction on only one or two occasions.175 It is consequently quite doubtful that the OT, or more generally, Judaism, was the primary source for such a phrase. Further confirmation of this is found in the syntax of the construction. The Hebrew OT only rarely has the personal, singular article-noun-waw-noun construction. That is to say, only rarely is this construction found in which the waw connects the two substantives.176 And when it does so, the semantics are mixed. The LXX almost uniformly renders such a construction as other than a TSKS construction.177 Thus, neither the general syntactic structure of TSKS nor the specific lexemes of θεός and σωτήρ in such a construction can be attributable to OT influence.

Moulton lists several instances of this expression as referring to Roman emperors, though all but one of them dates from the seventh century CE.178 But there are earlier uses of the phrase circulating in hellenistic circles—and not a few which antedate the NT.179 Harris, in fact, argues that “the expression  θες κα σωτήρ was a stereotyped formula common in first-century religious terminology . . . and invariably denoted one deity, not two.”180 More than likely, then, the expression should be traced to non-Jewish sources, especially those relating to emperor-worship.  At the same time, “the early Christian texts which call Jesus ‘Saviour’ nowhere exhibit a view of the Soter related to the Hellenistic concept.”181 Cullmann is surely right that Hellenism accounts for the form, Judaism for the content of the expression,182 for the juxtaposition of θεός and σωτήρ (though almost always without a connective καί) was a well-established idiom for the early Christians already resident within the pages of their Bible.183 Nevertheless, regardless of the source of the expression, the use in Titus 2:13 and 2 Pet 1:1 of this idiom is almost certainly a reference to one person, confirming once again Sharp’s assessment of the phrase.184

In sum, Sharp’s rule outside of the NT has been very strongly confirmed both in the classical authors and in the koine. And although a few possible exceptions to his rule were found in the literature, the phrase  θες κα σωτήρ (Titus 2:13 and 2 Pet 1:1) admitted of no exceptions—either in Christian or secular writings. Ironically, then, the very passages in which Sharp sought to prove his rule have become among the least contestable in their singular referentiality. Indeed, the researches of Wendland, Moulton, Moehlmann, Cullmann, et al., are so compelling that exegetes nowadays are more apt to deny Paul and Peter than they are Christ185—that is to say, precisely because of the high Christology of Titus and 2 Peter the authenticity of these letters is usually denied.186 In this connection, it is noteworthy that Winer, whose theological argument against Sharp’s canon in Titus 2:13 influenced so many, held to Pauline authorship of the Pastorals. Indeed, it was “considerations from Paul’s system of doctrine” which forced him to deny the validity of the rule.187 These two issues—apostolic authorship and Christology—are consequently pitted against each other in these texts, and the opinions of a scholar in one area too often cloud his judgment in the other.188 Entirely apart from questions of authorship, however, we believe that the evidence adduced thus far firmly supports Sharp’s canon as it applies to Titus 2:13 and 2 Pet 1:1.  What remains to be done is an examination of the substantive arguments against, and especially the alleged exceptions to, Sharp’s principle. (Ibid.; emphasis mine)

179 Cf. the references in BAGR, s.v. σωτήρ, dating back to the Ptolemaic era.  Cf. also L. R. Taylor, The Divinity of the Roman Emperor (Middletown, CN: American Philological Association, 1931), who gives a helpful list in her “Appendix III: Inscriptions recording Divine Honors,” 267-83. Frequently, and from very early on, the inscriptions honor the Roman emperors as θεός, σωτήρ, and εὐεργέτης. Almost invariably the terms are in a TSKS construction (among the earliest evidence, an inscription at Carthage, 48-47 BCE, honors Caesar as τὸν θεὸν καὶ αὐτοκράτορα καὶ σωτῆρα; one at Ephesus honors him as τὸν . . .θεὸν ἐπιφανῆ καὶ . . .σωτῆρα; Augustus is honored at Thespiae, 30-27 BCE, as το’ν σωτῆρα καὶ εὐεργέτην; and in Myra he is called θεόν, while Marcus Agrippa is honored as τὸν εὐεργέτην καὶ σωτῆρα). See also P. Wendland, “Σωτήρ: Eine religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung,” ZNW 5 (1904) 337, 339-40, 342; BAGR, s.v. σωτήρ; W. Foerster, TDNT, 7.1003-1012; Dibelius-Conzelmann, Pastoral Epistles, 74.

180 M. J. Harris, “Titus 2:13 and the Deity of Christ” (in Pauline Studies: Essays presented to Professor F. F. Bruce on his 70th  Birthday, ed. D. A. Hagner and M. J. Harris [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980]) 266.  Cf. also B. S. Easton, The Pastoral Epistles (New York: Scribner’s, 1947) 94…

184 We may conjecture that the use of the phrase in emperor-worship was hardly an adequate motivating factor for its use by early Christians, because such an expression butted up against their deeply ingressed monotheism. Rather, it was only after they came to recognize the divinity of Christ that such a phrase became usable. This would explain both why σωτήρ is used so infrequently of Christ in the NT, and especially why ὁ θεὸς καὶ σωτήρ occurs only twice—and in two late books

187 G. B. Winer, A Treatise on the Grammar of New Testament Greek, trans. and rev. W. F. Moulton, 3d ed., rev. (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1882) 162 (italics added). He adds in a footnote: “the dogmatic conviction derived from Paul’s writings that this apostle cannot have called Christ the great God induced me . . .”

188 Besides Winer, one thinks of Kelly and Alford as among those who, because they embraced apostolic authorship, denied an explicitly high Christology.

In passing, we might note that Ignatius’ christological statements involve a tighter apposition (with θεός) than do the statements in Titus and 2 Peter (cf., e.g., Smyrn. 1:1; preface to Ephesians; Eph. 18:2; Trall. 7:1; preface to RomansRom. 3:3; Pol. 8:3) or even direct assertion (Rom. 6:3). 

Though the statements in Titus and 2 Peter seem to be explicit affirmations of Christ’s deity, Ignatius’ statements are more blunt. If a roughly linear development of christological formulation in the early church can be assumed, this would suggest that the terminus ad quem of the Pastorals and 2 Peter could not be later than 110 CE. (Sharp Redivivus?)

Hence, the contextual and historical evidence provide a very strong case that Jesus is clearly and explicitly being described as our (great) God and Savior in Tit. 2:13 and 2 Pet. 1:1. As such, this means that the NT is identifying the risen Jesus as YHWH God Incarnate, even though it also personally distinguishes him from both the Father and the Holy Spirit.

Here’s a logical breakdown of the biblical witness:

  1. YHWH alone is the God who saves.
  2. Jesus is described as the great God and Savior of all who believe in him.
  3. Jesus is, therefore, the physical enfleshment, the human incarnation of that very YHWH God who alone saves.
  4. At the same time, Jesus is personally distinct from both the Father and the Son.
  5. This means that the one true God YHWH eternally exists and is eternally instantiated as the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit (Cf. Matt. 28:19).

I will have more evidence confirming all these statements in the subsequent part of my discussion.

Justin: Jesus Ministers the Father’s will

Rev. Dr. Christiaan Kappes

In my previous article “Follow up…” on Justin Martyr, I highlighted how contemporary scholars often abandon concentrating on narratives of Justin’s supposed subordinationism in contemporary-scholarly translations of Justin. Still there is literature out there by legitimate scholars that assumes Justin to be subordinationist, mainly due to projecting crude philosophical distinctions onto Justin, especially Justin’s description of Jesus as the minister (subordinate) of the Father’s will. This short article will show how today’s technological advances make it easy to see that supposed subordinationism of Justin is based on a projection of meaning into Justin that cannot stand. Some scholars’ previous assumptions and their poor guesses for the origin of Justin’s argument are fairly typical problems prior to the computer age and will even continue afterwards, especially as some prefer their opinions over conclusions in reaction to where the data leads. For his part, Justin was thoroughly familiar with the Greek Bible, especially Old Testament, and with certain veins of contemporary Jewish thought. The biblical worldview explains adequately and sufficiently Justin’s unique terminology – called at one time or another subordinationist – not Greek philosophy (typically referred to a Middle Platonism). We begin by citing Justin’s allegedly incriminating passage.

For I have proved that it was Jesus who appeared to and conversed with Moses, and Abraham, and all the other patriarchs without exception, ministering to the will of the Father (tôi tou patros thelêmati hyperetôn); who also, I say, came to be born human by the Virgin Mary, and I lives forever. For the latter is He after whom and by whom the Father will renew both the heaven and the earth; this is He who shall shine an eternal light in Jerusalem; this is he who is the king of Salem after the order of Melchizedek, and the eternal Priest of the Most High. (Justin, Dialogue with Trypho,113)

Where did Justin get the idea that the “visible” Jesus who had been seen with human eyes in the Old Testament and who was physically born human (man) from a human being (Mary) as a minister or subordinate or administrator of the Father’s will? Notice that this entire phrase is in context of mentioning the Book of Joshua, the Torah, and Jesus’s identity and vocation as in the letter to the Hebrews:

This “Melchizedek, king of Salem, priest of the Most High God, met Abraham as he was returning from defeating the kings and blessed him,” and to him Abraham apportioned “one-tenth of everything.” His name, in the first place, means “king of righteousness”; next, he is also king of Salem, that is, “king of peace. “Without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life but resembling the Son of God, he remains a priest forever.(Hebrews 7:1-3)

Justin explicitly cites Hebrews in Dialogue with Trypho 33.1-6, 63.3, 83.2-3 before he discusses “ministering to the Father’s will” (Dialogue with Trypho 113). Yet, the letter to the Hebrews does not use the phrase “ministering…to the will.” The same concept is there but not the same vocabulary. For example, Hebrews 10:7, 10:9, 10:36, and 13:21 speak of Jesus in the same vein but using the Septuagint/Old Greek Bible that says: “doing the Father’s will (poiôn to thelêma tou patros). This “Do” (poieô) + “will” (thelêma) would have been well known by Justin in the New and Old Testament, for it is also used in: 1 Kings 5:22-23, Ezra 9:9; Esther 1:8 and numerous Psalms, not to mention other places. The clear meaning in the Bible refers to a king or sovereign or Lord who has a decree or a wish that is carried out by his servant or slave. The context for “doing God’s will” occurs in the context of Master-slave, King-subject, Creator-creation dichotomies.

Now Justin’s different language is strange in that it is unbiblical. It, therefore, is not the Jewish-Greek of the Septuagint or Old Greek Bible.[1] Justin’s unfamiliar Greek phrase isn’t simply Greek phraseology, whether we read ancient or first-century commonly spoken Greek of the Roman empire. It is something allusive to the Old Testament but with nuances never seen in either the Jewish-Greek Bible or in secular authors before Justin. Greeks would have say: “I do the will of ‘x’,” or “do my will,” as this is something a Hebrew foreigner would clumsily say in atypical Greek and Justin was not a native Hebrew speaker. How do we account for Justin omitting the ever present “doing the will” and preferring the statement “ministering to the will”?

The answer comes unsurprisingly from someone mentioned in one of previous articles (The Definitive Case against St. Justin Martyr’s Supposed Subordinationism). Justin the Martyr was heavily reliant on a first-century Jewish author, Philo the of Alexandria (around AD 50). Justin’s vocabulary is another case where the only predecessor to Justin can be found in the Thesaurus Linguae Graecae (or largest database of published Greek writings in the world). Nowadays, unlike the early 1990s and before scholars have easy access to a huge Greek database for definitively excluding literary influences and for definitively demonstrating plagiarism. This technology take a lot of guess work and merely impressionistic scholarship out of the mix. We have the criterion of exclusivity, that is, we can definitely exclude all Greek authors in history for being an influence on St. Justin’s vocabulary, except for Philo of Alexandria (and perhaps the book of Wisdom). Philo wrote the following:

(201) And he was inspired, and full of the spirit of prophecy, and spoke to them as follows: “A fertile plain has been granted to mortal men, which they cut up into furrows, and plough, and sow, and do everything else which relates to agriculture, providing the yearly fruits so as to enjoy abundance of necessary food. But it is not one portion only of the universe, but the whole world that belongs to God, and all its parts obey their master, supplying/administering (hyperetêsonta) everything which he desires (thelê) that they should supply.(Philo, On the Life of Moses,XXXVI.196)

The computer data base (TLG) can show that no other ancient contemporaries or predecessors use a root word for the “human will” (thel-) plus a form of “serve/administer” (hypêreteô) except Justin, and then Philo immediately before him. But where would the philosophically inclined Philo get his own terminology? The answer, as provided by the world’s largest search engine finds the influence on Philo from the somewhat philosophically-inclined book of Wisdom, or a deuterocanonical book of the Bible:

For creation, serving you who made it, exerts itself to punish the unrighteous and in kindness relaxes on behalf of those who trust in you. Therefore at that time also, changed into all forms, it served/ministered to (hypertei) your all-nourishing bounty, according to the desire/will (thelesin) of those who had need. (LXX Wisdom 16:24-25)

What can we learn from the influence of something like the book of Wisdom on Philo and the subsequent influence of Philo on Justin? Each one refers to the temporal or created things in the world. Justin refers to the visible things seen by Joshua and the flesh born of Mary. These are creatures (physical appearances to the eyes and a physical body crucified). The point of Philo is that what ministers to the Father’s will or his desire is the subordinate created world. The background for this is that the book of Wisdom declares that all creation, including forms of creatures, serve God’s will.

Conclusion: Jesus as Melchizedek is Minister of the Father’s Will

What we should undestand from all this, in light of Justin’s sources and language and its remote biblical background (“doing the Father’s will”) and proximate literary background (the Book of Wisdom and Philo of Alexandria and the Letter to the Hebrews), is that Justin the Martyr means to convey that all created elements (whether the created aspects of the Old Testament precursors to Jesus – like the vision seen by Joshua) or the new Testament flesh and blood of Jesus are creatures that serve his will. This is a clear testimony to the fact that one of two realities in the whole Jesus Christ is flesh and blood, that is, a human nature. This human soul in a human body, as the Council of Constantinople III (AD 680) emphasized, means that Jesus did not merely have the will of the Father as in John’s Gospel the will of the Father is in some real way the will of the Son:

Jesus gave them this answer: “Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” (John 5:19)

So Jesus said, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I am he and that I do nothing on my own, but I speak these things as the Father instructed me.” (John 8:28)

Jesus follows up saying: “The Father and I are one.” (John 10:30) and “You, Father, are in me and I am in you” (John 17:21). Were it not for “doing the Father’s will” and “administering to the Father’s will,” then a Monophysite or even Docetic interpretation becomes more susceptible whereby the fully human nature of Jesus Christ might be doubted. Since Jesus utilized creatures in the Old Testament theophanies and, more importantly, united himself to the created soul and body born from Mary in the New Testament, he does not merely have a divine will and divine thoughts: “For we do not have a High Priest who cannot be touched with the feelings of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15). It is this very same emphasis by St. Justin on Jesus’s incarnation and his citations from Hebrews that show that Justin correctly adopts the premise that Jesus in the world had a human will, obedient to the Father’s will, not merely that Jesus has one divine will possessed by both the eternal Father and pre-Incarnate eternal Son. The implications are of dyothelitism, that is, two wills of the one Jesus Christ – unlike a mere human – being possessed of both a human and divine will, even if one will is subordinate as a created will to the divine will. Ministering to the Father’s will is the work of the Son of Man, the nature born of Mary, and metaphorically this is the role of all creation to function in an obedient and subordinate manner to its creator, as did the appearance of Captain of Armies to Joshua, the burning bush in Moses, and the angelophanies of the Old Testament. To finish, I present a citation representative of the most dyotheltie author in history, who boasts of one of the highest Christologies (or exalted notions of Jesus’s divinity) in human history; we quote Maximus the Confessor (died AD 662) who could easily be mistaken for Justin Martyr: But in the subsequent parts [of a letter by an accused Monothelite Honorius, he] renders [his understanding of the natural human will in Christ] more clearly, as his discourse is only about the will subject to the passions, but not to define the natural will in the Savior. And that indeed, even in the natural and the human [will] [Christ] corresponded to the divine will, the will from the Father, having nothing of resistance to that different will, and giving Himself to us as a model, He voluntarily subjected His personal will, and confirmed the will from the Father. (Maximus, Letter to Ma


[1] Old Greek means the untainted or oldest layer of the Septuagint. The Septuagint as we now have it is often if not usually a combination of several Greek translations that are fused into one combined text after third-century Christians started mixing them together.

[2] For translation, see page 76 of “Love that unites and vanishes…”

FURTHER READING

Follow up Q & A on Justin Martyr

Justin Martyr’s “Subordinationism”

PSALM 110:1: ADONI OR ADONAI?

The following is taken from the monumental work titled The Incarnate Christ and His Critics: A Biblical Defense, authored by Robert M. Bowman Jr. & J. Ed Komoszewski, published by Kregel Academic, Grand Rapids, MI, 2024, Part 5: The Lamb upon His Throne: Jesus’ Divine Seat, Chapter 36: Sitting at God’s Right Hand, pp. 677-681.

In my estimation this is THE best and most comprehensive exposition and defense of the biblical basis for the Deity of Christ. Every serious Trinitarian Christian student of the Holy Bible, apologist, and/or theologian must have this book in the library.

LORD, MY LORD, AND THE LORD

Before we discuss Jesus’ use of Psalm 110:1 in his answer to Caiaphas’s question, we need to discuss the different forms of the word “lord” as found in most English Bibles. The ESV translates verse 1, “The Lord says to my Lord,” as do several other modern versions (CSB, ESV, NASB, NKJV, NLT). Other English versions read almost identically: “The Lord says to my lord” (NABRE, NIV, NRSV, TNK). As we discussed earlier in this book (see especially pp. 469–70), where English Bibles have the title “Lord” (with small capital letters), this translates the Hebrew divine name YHWH, commonly represented in English as Jehovah or Yahweh. Thus, a more literal translation of the Hebrew text of Psalm 110:1 would be “Yahweh says to my lord” (cf. ASV, LEB). The Septuagint reads, “The Lord [ho kyrios] said to my Lord [tō kyriō mou]” (Ps. 109:1 LXX), and this is how it is always quoted in the New Testament. It is also likely that Jesus used a form of the Aramaic word for “Lord” (mārēʾ) in place of YHWH when he quoted the verse aloud, as this was the conventional Jewish practice at the time. As Darrell Bock points out, “The minute such a substitution was made, the ambiguity would exist in Aramaic.”6 So don’t blame English versions for the two occurrences of “Lord.”

Unitarian apologist Anthony Buzzard leverages the use of ʾădōnî in the MT of Psalm 110:1 as one of his main arguments against the deity of Christ. He complains about translations that say “my Lord,” insisting that the word must be translated with a lower-case l, “my lord.” According to Buzzard, ʾădōnî should always be translated “lord” while ʾădōnāy should always be translated “Lord.” He goes so far as to assert, “The clarity and precision of the Hebrew text was marred by the ‘curse of the capital.’”7 Buzzard also especially reproaches “Trinitarian” authors who have erroneously stated that Psalm 110:1 uses the word ʾădōnāy and who infer from this mistaken premise that Psalm 110:1 explicitly identifies the future Messiah as God.8 Buzzard actually tries to argue in reverse, claiming that ʾădōnî is the form of the word for “lord” that “expressly tells us that the one so designated is not God, but a human superior.”9 In short, according to Buzzard, the fact that Psalm 110:1 calls the future Messiah (Jesus) ʾădōnî proves that Jesus is not God!

We have already thoroughly responded to Buzzard’s view of the title “Lord” in the New Testament, which focused on Acts 2:36 as his main proof text (see pp. 477–81). Here we will address his interpretation of Psalm 110:1, which will require a deep dive into the forms of the Hebrew noun. Buzzard’s argument presupposes that the distinction between ʾădōnî and ʾădōnāy predated the time of Jesus; indeed, his argument requires that the distinction was in place when Psalm 110 was written. This is definitely not the case with regard to the written text. We are not dealing with two different nouns. In ancient manuscripts, the noun as represented by these two standard forms ʾădōnî and ʾădōnāy would appear exactly the same, with only what we would call the consonants, ʾDNY (אדני).10 Remember that Hebrew is read from right to left, so aleph [א [is the first letter [transliterated in English letters like this:ʾ]. By the way, the yodh [י[, not to be confused with the English transliteration of aleph, can express a consonantal sound or a vowel sound. That’s why you will see yodh transliterated sometimes with i and sometimes with y.) The full spellings on which Buzzard’s argument depends derive from the little marks, called vowel points, placed under or after the consonants in the medieval Hebrew manuscripts. Thus, ʾDNY becomes ʾaDoNY (ʾădōnî) and ʾaDoNāY (ʾădōnāy, or adonai).11 This distinction between the two forms is not represented in any visible way in ancient Hebrew texts. Looking at Psalm 110:1 in an ancient manuscript, you would see simply ʾDNY.

Buzzard knows this. He admits that the vowel points “were added much later than New Testament times.” However, he argues that the medieval Masoretic scribes who produced the Hebrew manuscripts (the MT) added the vowel points to preserve “how the text was read in the synagogues.” In other words, he claims that while the ancient manuscripts did not distinguish visually between ʾădōnî and ʾădōnāy, the Jews used these two different forms when reading or reciting aloud from the Hebrew text. Furthermore, Buzzard asserts that the result is absolutely reliable: “The Masoretes who faithfully pointed the Hebrew text with meticulous care distinguished between a nonDeity lord and the Deity who was the Lord God. . . . The Jews were almost fanatically careful in what they regarded as the sacred task of copying the scriptural text.”12

As one might expect, we do not have any way of knowing precisely when Jews began using the two different forms of ʾDNY when speaking the words of Scripture aloud. However, the dominant view in biblical scholarship is that the distinction probably arose long after Psalm 110 was written, and quite possibly after the period of the New Testament. In any case, the idea that the forms of this word were fixed in every occurrence from biblical times down to the Masoretic era is untenable. Even some of the reference works that Buzzard quotes in support of his view make this quite clear. For example, Buzzard quotes selectively from the entry on “Lord” in the Dictionary of Deities and Demons, but he omits (without an ellipsis) the following statements from the same pages he cites:

It is difficult to trace precisely this development from the use of ʾădōnāy as a title to its use as a name, because it cannot be excluded that the Hebrew text of the OT was edited according to new theological and liturgical insights. In the transmission of the text the final form of this name may have been used to replace older forms. . . . We have to reckon with the possibility mentioned above of editors changing the original text, e.g. its vocals, according to later principles.13

Buzzard even goes so far as to alter one of the entry’s sentences in a way that clearly changes its meaning. He quotes it as saying, “The reason why [God is addressed] as adonai [with long vowel], instead of the normal adon, adoni or adonai [with short vowel] may have been to distinguish Yahweh from other gods and from human lords.”14 The bracketed words “God is addressed” lead the reader to understand the dictionary to be explaining why people in Old Testament times addressed God with this particular form of the noun. However, what the entry says is this: “The reason why this is written ʾădōnāy instead of the normal ʾādôn, ʾădōnî, or ʾădōnāy may have been to distinguish Yahweh from other gods and from human lords.”15 In context, the author was explaining why this particular written form of the word was adopted, some centuries after the Old Testament books were originally written.

In another reference work from which Buzzard quotes selectively, he omits the following statement in the same entry: “Original reading probably in all cases ʾadōnay.”16 That is, according to this reference work (a lexicon, which uses shortened sentence structure), the Hebrew text originally used ʾadōnay where it later, due to the editorial work of the Masoretes, distinguishes between ʾădōnî and ʾădōnāy.

There is something peculiar that follows from the claim that Psalm 110:1 was originally understood as expressing the word ʾădōnî to mean a “non-Deity lord” in contrast to ʾădōnāy. In the MT, the word ʾădōnî occurs 278 times, including Psalm 110:1. Yet it occurs nowhere else in the Psalms (the longest book of the Bible) or in any of the other wisdom books of the Old Testament (Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes). On the other hand, in the MT, the Psalms uses the word ʾădōnāy 54 times. These statistics don’t prove what the word originally meant in Psalm 110:1, but they do raise some doubt about the claim that Psalm 110:1 originally expressed the specific form of the noun found in the MT and did so in order to deny that the future Messiah would be deity.

According to Buzzard, “There should be no need to have to argue that the Hebrew Masoretic text is correct in Psalm 110:1. There is not a shred of evidence of corruption of the text here.”17 However, just a dozen pages earlier, Buzzard had expressed his approval of the Septuagint wording of Psalm 110:3b, which he quotes as follows: “From the womb, before the morning star, did I beget you” (see Ps. 109:3b LXX).18 If this wording of verse 3 is correct, though, it means the Masoretes failed to preserve the correct wording, because in the MT Psalm 110:3b says something like, “From the womb of the morning, the dew of your youth will be yours”! Besides the reference to the dew (which is in the Hebrew text but not in the Greek text), the main difference here is that the Hebrew consonantal word YLDTYK can be given vowel points to say “your youth” (yaldūteykā, as in the Hebrew MT) or “I have begotten you” (yelidtîykā, as translated in Psalm 109:3 LXX, exegennēsa se, cf. Ps. 2:7).19

There are significant textual variants even among the medieval Hebrew manuscripts in Psalm 110:3. For example, the MT in the first part of verse 3 refers to “holy garments” (hadrê qōdeš, see ESV, NLT; cf. LEB, NASB, NIV), while other medieval Hebrew manuscripts as well as some ancient witnesses to the text have “holy mountains” (harrê qōdeš, see NRSV, cf. NET).20 In this instance, the variant is not merely a difference in vowel pointing, but in the consonantal text itself. The bottom line is that serious biblical scholars, while they greatly respect the MT, do not take it as absolute, let alone profess to do so where convenient while elsewhere preferring alternate texts, as Buzzard does with Psalm 110:1 and Psalm 110:3.

Buzzard’s whole line of argument here proceeds from the false premise that if the Bible describes the Messiah in human, non-divine terms, this means he cannot be divine. In orthodox Christian theology, Jesus the Messiah is both human and divine. The divine Son came into the world as a mortal human, lived, died, and rose from the dead. Biblical affirmations of the humanity of the Messiah are a feature, not a bug, from an orthodox perspective. Likewise, the fact that Psalm 110:1 refers to the Father as Yahweh and the Son as “my lord” is no more problematic theologically than the New Testament practice of using “God” for the Father and such titles as “Christ” for Jesus (see pp. 677–81).

As for Buzzard’s assertion that Psalm 110:1 should be translated with “my lord” rather than “my Lord,” many translators and commentators already take this position. They would agree with him that since ʾădōnî is regularly translated “my lord” elsewhere in the Old Testament, we should do so also in Psalm 110:1, assuming we are translating the MT. This is a respectable position, though it does not justify Buzzard’s inflamed rhetoric. There is another side to this issue, however. This is not just anyone who is being addressed as “my lord.” Whoever this figure is, he is being invited to sit at God’s right hand and to rule as a king and priest forever (110:1, 4). As Jesus argued, that makes this figure greater than David; it makes him greater than any other human. Read in this way, the form of address found in Psalm 110:1 goes far beyond the ordinary courtesies of ancient cultural conventions in which someone politely addresses a king or other authority figure as “my lord.”

From a New Testament perspective, ultimately Psalm 110:1 pointed ahead beyond any Old Testament king to the one whom the New Testament calls “the Lord Jesus” or “the Lord Jesus Christ.” If we translate Psalm 110:1 as part of the whole canon of Scripture, it is not wrong to capitalize “Lord” in this context. We turn, then, to consider whether this New Testament perspective is a valid way of reading Psalm 110.

6. Bock, “Use of Daniel 7 in Jesus’ Trial,” 81.

7. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 162.

8. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 157–61. Buzzard’s most notable example of a scholarly work making this mistake is Louis A. Barbieri Jr., “Matthew,” in The Bible Knowledge Commentary: An Exposition of the Scriptures, ed. John F. Walvoord and Roy B. Zuck (Wheaton, IL: Victor Books, 1985), 2:73.

9. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 158.

10. In one instance, ădônāy is spelled with the consonant vav, also called waw (ו), in the middle, functioning like the vowel o (Judg. 13:8).

11. The root noun ʾădōn (אדנ (or ʾādôn (אדונ (occurs 44 times in the OT, 20 times meaning a human lord or master (Ps. 105:21; Jer. 22:18; 34:5) and 24 times the Lord God (e.g., Josh. 3:11, 13; Pss. 97:5; 114:7; Zech. 4:14; 6:5). With the definite article, hāʾādōn or hāʾădōn, the title always means “the Lord,” that is, God (8 times).

12. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 168, 172.

13. Klaas Spronk, “Lord,” in Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible, ed. Karel van der Toorn, Bob Becking, and Pieter W. van der Horst, 2nd ed. (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 531, 532.

14. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 174–75, bracketed words Buzzard’s.

15. Spronk, “Lord,” 532, emphasis added. 16. BDB, s.v. ʾādôn, 10; cf. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 174.

17. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 173.

18. Buzzard, Jesus Was Not a Trinitarian, 161. Buzzard claims quite implausibly that Psalm 109:3 LXX means that God “begat” the Messiah when Jesus was born of a virgin. The text says that the Messiah was begotten before the “morning star” or perhaps the “morning,” which is more consistent with his preexistence (see above, chaps. 10–12).

19. Willem A. VanGemeren, “Psalms,” in The Expositor’s Bible Commentary (Revised Edition), vol. 5: Psalms, ed. Tremper Longman III and David E. Garland (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008), 815.

20. See NET Bible, 2nd ed. (2019), Ps. 110:3 n.

This next excerpt is from pp. 687-689.

SITTING AT GOD’S RIGHT HAND IN HEAVEN

There are, of course, many other passages in the Old Testament (especially though by no means exclusively in the Psalms) that point forward in various ways to the Messiah. However, Psalm 110 is unique in speaking of the Davidic king (with the Messiah as the full realization of this picture) as sitting at Yahweh’s right hand. A few texts speak of Solomon sitting on the throne of Yahweh (1 Chron. 28:5; 29:23; 2 Chron. 9:8), while others speak of Yahweh sitting enthroned in Zion (Ps. 9:7, 11) or of Jerusalem or the temple as his throne (Jer. 3:17; Ezek. 43:4–7). The Old Testament also occasionally speaks of Yahweh being “enthroned on the cherubim,” that is, sitting on or between the images of the cherubim on top of the ark of the covenant in the tabernacle (Exod. 25:22; 1 Sam. 4:4; 2 Sam. 6:2; Pss. 80:1; 99:1). Yet nowhere except in Psalm 110:1 does the Old Testament picture Yahweh and the human king sitting enthroned side by side.

More commonly, the Old Testament pictures God’s “throne” as being in heaven (e.g., 1 Kings 22:19; 2 Chron. 18:18; Pss. 11:4; 33:13–14; 97:1–2, 9; 103:19; 113:4–6; 123:1; Isa. 66:1). Psalm 2, a text that in other respects has several clear verbal and thematic parallels to Psalm 110, actually contrasts Yahweh sitting enthroned in heaven (Ps. 2:4) with the Davidic king sitting on his throne in Zion (2:6).

Evidently, Jesus drew on Psalm 110:1 in his response to Caiaphas because it said something that went beyond what more conventional messianic passages said. While in a purely metaphorical, typological sense, Psalm 110:1 might be read as saying that Solomon or other Davidic kings sat at God’s “right hand” on the throne in Jerusalem, Jesus took the statement in its fullest possible sense—that he was actually going to be ruling alongside God in heaven. Indeed, had Jesus claimed that he was going to rule as Messiah from Jerusalem, the Sanhedrin would not have considered such a claim blasphemous (though presumably they would have vociferously disagreed). Many if not most Jews hoped for a messianic king who would do just that.

On the other hand, Caiaphas probably would not have deemed it blasphemous for Jesus to claim he was going to enter God’s presence in heaven. The Old Testament reported that other human beings had done so without even dying (notably Enoch and Elijah). “The possibility of a heavenly abode offended no Jew who believed in an afterlife for the righteous.”42 However, to sit at God’s right side, meaning alongside God in heaven, was another matter altogether. In the religious and cultural milieu of Jesus, to claim to be a king who would sit at God’s right hand in heaven was tantamount to claiming equality with God.

As we explained earlier in this chapter, Jewish literature during the general time period of the New Testament also does not speak of any human or angelic creature sitting alongside God in heaven. There are texts that picture some figure, such as Moses or (possibly) Enoch, sitting on God’s throne, and we will discuss these references in the next chapter. However, even these texts do not speak of such figures sitting at God’s right hand in heaven. As best we can tell, this element of Jesus’ statement was unprecedented.

We may illustrate the point with the story of the King of Siam and Anna, the nineteenth-century English schoolteacher hired to teach his children, most memorably told in Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein’s musical The King and I. Anna flouts Siamese court protocol by barging into the king’s throne room unannounced, standing in the king’s presence when he is sitting, or by sitting with her head as high or higher than the king. Protocol required that all subjects of the king were to keep their heads lower than his at all times. This sort of royal protocol was well understood (and usually scrupulously observed) in most cultures until the rise of democracy in modern times—the very cultural shift celebrated in The King and I. For Jesus to claim that he would sit at God’s right hand was akin to claiming, in what used to be called an “Oriental” cultural context, that he would be entitled to have his head as high as that of the king.

Jesus, then, was claiming the right to go directly into God’s “throne room” and sit at his side. The temerity of such a claim for any mere human would be astonishing to the Jews of Jesus’ day.43 The priests of the Sanhedrin, to whom Jesus made this claim, could not, as a rule, even go into the inner sanctum of the temple, known as the holy of holies. Many of them had probably never been inside it. The holy of holies could only be entered on a specific day in specific ways by one specific person. Failure to follow instructions resulted in death. On the Day of Atonement, the high priest entered the holy of holies with a bull to sacrifice for personal purification and a ram to burn for atonement. This was followed by a change of garments and ritual washings (Lev. 16:3–5). In other words, God’s presence in the temple was entered cautiously.

If entrance requirements to the earthly holy of holies were so strict, we can imagine what the Sanhedrin priests would have thought about Jesus claiming he would enter God’s heavenly sanctuary. Worse still, Jesus claimed he would enter the heavenly holies of holies and sit down. As Darrell Bock puts it, Jesus’ claim “would be worse, in the leadership’s view, than claiming the right to be able to walk into the holy of holies in the earthly temple and live there.”44 His statement amounted to claiming that he owned the place!

42. Darrell L. Bock, “Jesus as Blasphemer,” in Who Do My Opponents Say that I Am? An Investigation of the Accusations against the Historical Jesus, ed. Scot McKnight and Joseph B. Modica, LNTS 327 (New York: T&T Clark, 2008), 78.

43. What follows in the rest of this paragraph and in the next is essentially repeated from Komoszeswki, Sawyer, and Wallace, Reinventing Jesus, 178.

44. Darrell L. Bock, Jesus according to Scripture: Restoring the Portrait from the Gospels (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2002), 375.

45. Richard Bauckham, “The Power and the Glory: The Rendering of Psalm 110:1 in Mark 14:62,” in From Creation to New Creation: Biblical Theology and Exegesis: Essays in Honor of G. K. Beale, ed. Daniel M. Gurtner and Benjamin L. Gladd (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2013), 83.

FURTHER READING

PSALM 110 IN EARLY CHRISTIAN SOURCES

Examining Psalm 110:1 — A look at Its Implications on God being a Multi-Personal Being and upon the Deity of Christ

Psalm 110:1 – Another Clear Testimony to Christ’s Deity Pt. 1

The Binitarian Nature of the Shema [Part 1]

DAVID’S MULTI-PERSONAL LORD PT. 2

APPEARANCE OF THE TRINITY TO ABRAHAM AND DAVID PT. 3

Revisiting the implications that Psalm 110 has on the divine identity of the Messiah Pt. 1

Solomon Was Not David’s Lord! Psalm 110:1 Revisited… Again!

JESUS CHRIST: THE LORD AND THE LORD’S SON

THE KING OF ISRAEL IS THE KING OF THE NATIONS