Noua şcoală de istoria religiilor
Articolul a aparut in Idei in dialog, august 2006
“Totul începe la Sumer!” Aceasta era acum o jumătate de secol o expresie preferată, care camulfa totodată un important principiu metodologic, a pionierilor în istoria religiilor. Expresia lui Kramer, reluată de Eliade, reflecta crezul mai multor generaţii de cercetători şi luneta prin care ei priveau lumea. Sub un alt aspect, expresia revelează în general fascinaţia pe care toţii oamenii, incluzând specialiştii în istoria religiilor, o au faţă de misterul originilor. Bineînţeles că această origine, Sumerul, nu poate avea nici o legătură ideatică ori de praxis religios cu alte universuri religioase precum cel amerindian sau cel aborigen. Repetând una dintre clişeele contemporane, se poate spune că expresia lui Kramer reflectă perspectiva “eurocentrică”, de nu chiar “colonială”, asupra lumii.
Dar dincolo de discuţiile contemporane asupra colonialismului, lumea contemporană este una în care fenomenul religios sociologic predominant este cel monoteist, iar originile, ramificaţiile, asemănările şi deosebirile doctrinare ale unor fenomene religioase precum iudaismul, creştinismul şi islamul necesită încă investigaţii atât din partea istoricilor cât şi a celor interesaţi de implicaţiile religiosului în conflictele politice actuale.
Cele două şcoli de istoria religiei reflectă două perspective diferite tocmai asupra acestor aspecte. Dar, în definitiv, sunt oare cele două şcoli atât de diferite? Şi, în cazul unui răspuns afirmativ, în ce oare? Eu aş spune că, dincolo de faptul că cele două şcoli diferă în rezultatele investigaţiilor lor asupra aceloraşi fenomene religioase, ele sunt totodată chiar metodologic distincte, distincţia centrală fiind aceea dintre o metodă pozitivistă şi una non- sau post-pozitivistă.
Şcoala de istoria religiilor (religionsgeschichtliche Schule)
Trecând în revistă mai întâi vechea şcoală, ea poate fi privită ca fructul mentalităţii dominante în secolul al nouăsprezecelea, anume pozitivismul, şi a marii şcoli clasice germane. În fond, şcoala de istoria religiilor apare în Germania iar reprezentanţii ei principali – Hermann Gunkel (1862-1932), Wilhelm Bousset (1865-1920), Richard Reitzenstein, Ernst Troeltsch, Rudolf Bultmann – deţin o pregătire solidă în clasice şi filosofie, de nu chiar sunt clasicişti de profesie, precum Reitzenstein. Pentru ei, ştiinţa reprezintă modelul de cunoaştere în genere, iar investigaţia domeniului religios, în măsura în care doreşte să fie predată în universitate, trebuie să urmeze standardele ştiinţifice. Acest lucru face ca şcoala să fie rodul unei tradiţii care ţinteşte întâi de toate să fie “ştiinţifică”, în ciuda faptului că a schimbat de câteva ori definiţia a ceea ce înseamnă acest cuvânt. Şcoala datorează mult în primul rând generaţiei anterioare, unde pot fi menţionaţi Albrecht Ritschel (1822-1899) şi Albert Eichhorn, la rândul lor inspiraţi de Ferdinand Christian Baur (1792-1860) şi împărtăşind principiile de bază ale şcolii întemeiate de cel din urmă la Tübingen. Dincolo de faptul că unele dintre ipotezele lui Baur au fost criticate ulterior de chiar reprezentanţi ai istorismului critic, ideea sa centrală a rămas până astăzi linia de continuitate a întregii tradiţii criticiste. În esenţă, aceasta se referă la metoda de interpretare a textelor sacre, în primul rând Biblia, care ar trebui investigată dintr-o perspectivă istorică şi dincolo de orice angajare metafizică. Influenţat la început de Fichte, Schelling şi Schleiermacher, adică de tot ce era mai nou în domeniul filosofiei la acea vreme, Baur se reîntoarce în cele din urmă la Hegel şi înţelege ştiinţa prin ochii acestuia. Mai mult, unul dintre discipolii săi cei mai faimoşi, Albrecht Ritschel, se inspiră în primul rând din Kant atunci când îşi propune să elimine orice subiectivism, misticism şi pietism, într-un cuvânt orice metafizică, din domeniul religiosului. Cercetarea care are ca obiect religiosul are sens doar dacă se apleacă asupra experienţei religioase, credinţa, asupra imperiului moralei, adică domeniul performativ, şi asupra comunităţilor religioase.
Perspectiva sociologică a şcolii
În special acest din urmă aspect va fi elaborat de şcoala de istoria religiei în contextul dezvoltării interesului pentru sociologie şi a teoriilor sociologice de la sfârşitul secolului al nouăsprezecelea şi începutul secolului al douăzecilea. Religia devenea în esenţă un fenomen socio-cultural.
Cum ideea de progres, probabil sub influenţa filosofiei lui Hegel, devine esenţială în studiile ulterioare privitoare la societatea umană, şcoala de istoria religiilor divide evoluţia societăţii umane în stadii care evoluează de la simplu la complex, de la politeistic la monoteistic, de la aleatoriu şi improvizaţie la organizat şi planificat. Într-un mod similar cu felul în care Comte vedea lumea urmând trei trepte evolutive de la cea teologică la cea metafizică pentru a încheia cu perioada pozitivistă, membrii şcolii concep umanitatea ca evoluând de la stadiul tribal, care implică o religie animistă cu şamani şi totemuri, la cea a uniunilor de triburi şi regatelor care, o dată cu apariţia agriculturii, dezvoltă divinităţi ale fertilităţii şi eroi civilizatori. Ultimul stadiu ar fi acela al apariţiei oraşelor-state şi liderului atotstăpânitor, elemente care facilitează emergenţa monoteismului. După cum se observă, religia este concepută ca evoluând sub influenţe sociale şi inspirată de contextele sociale. Privitor la religia creştină, aceasta este produsul contextului social iudaic sub influenţe iraniene, anume în ceea ce priveşte motivul zeului salvator. Contextul iudaic pare să fi dat ocazia unui sincretism ideatic în care cultul imperial, religiile de mistere şi religiile orientale, cea iraniană în special, au avut aportul esenţial. Un alt element ar fi gnosticismul care, după Bultmann, cel puţin în varianta mandeeană, dovedeşte influenţe certe în Evanghelia după Ioan. Perspectiva şcolii a întâlnit însă critici şi reformulări. Charles Harold Dodd, spre exemplu, în urma comparării pasajelor mandeene cu cele ioaneice, ajunge tocmai la concluzia opusă, anume că influenţa s-a produs dinspre scrierea creştină spre cea mandeeană.
Presupoziţiile metodologice ale şcolii
Metodologic, modelul de teorie ştiinţifică adoptat de şcoala de istoria religiei este cel pozitivist, anume cunoaşterea se acumulează în mod treptat, pe baza experienţei. În genere, pozitivismul reflectă un optimism epistemologic în care cunoaşterea umană formează un sistem unitar în dezvolatare, un sistem care acceptă ca propoziţii cu sens acele propoziţii cu putinţă de dedus din tautologii sau propoziţii primare, anume acelea bazate pe experienţă. Enunţurile metafizice, cum va spune Carnap, nu pot fi calificate ca adevărate sau false, ci ca fără sens. Dincolo de faptul că epistemologii ulteriori au dezaprobat criteriul pozitivist al sensului, modelul standard pozitivist nu prevede nici existenţa teoriilor sau programelor de cercetare ştiinţifică concurente, lucru descoperit mai târziu de epistemologi, atunci când au observat că acest lucru are loc bunăoară în cercetarea fizică actuală, unde pot fi întâlnite cercetări fie pe baza programului einsteinean, fie pe baza celui elaborat de Bohr.
Tradiţia hermeneutică germană
Germania ultimelor două secole a fost totodată spaţiul apariţiei unei alte tradiţii, cu totul opuse celei ştiinţifice a şcolii de istoria religiilor. Reprezentanţii acestei şcoli, Schleiermacher (1768 – 1834), Dilthey (1833 – 1911), Gadamer (1900 – 2002), au susţinut în mod esenţial că anumite domenii ale cunoaşterii umane, precum istoria, filosofia, dreptul, studiul religiilor, arta, nu pot fi investigate prin metode ştiinţifice, neaplicabile acestor domenii, ci printr-o cu totul altă metodă, anume înţelegerea (ce poate fi o formă de participare sau empatie) obiectului şi a contextului în care este plasat obiectul investigat, fie el un templu babilonian sau egiptean, o amforă grecească sau o istorie romană. Această tradiţie, numită tradiţia hermeneutică, este conştientă totodată de pluralitatea interpretărilor şi de necesitatea unei imersiuni cât mai profunde în atmosfera intelectuală a unui context specific, în măsura în care un membru al unei anumite comunităţi poate face acest lucru într-o altă cultură decât cea proprie şi poate interpreta acea cultură independent de categoriile propriei culturi.
Noua şcoală de istoria religiilor
Dar probabil este timpul să introducem cea de-a doua şcoală, reprezentanţii ei şi proiectul ei de cercetare. Lucrurile au evoluat după perioada postbelică atât atunci când materialele pseudo-epigrafice iudaice au fost mai bine investigate, cât şi după descoperirile manuscriselor de la Qumran. Unii cercetători, Gilles Quispel de la Utrecht spre exemplu, au propus ideea unei origini non-iraniene, ci iudaice, a anumitor teme creştine. Felul în care este descris Hristos de către scrierile novotestamentare este mai apropiat de felul în care este descris personajul ceresc de o materialitate luminoasă, având o formă umană şi şezând întronat pe heruvimi din scrierile profetice şi pseudepigrafice. Colpe afirma deja în 1961 că misterul redemtiv iranian s-a dovedit o “fantomă academică”. Ideea a fost mai departe investigată de Christopher Rowland, Jarl Fossum, Alan Segal (unul dintre apropiaţii lui Culianu), Larry Hurtado, apoi de April De Conick (un discipol al lui Fossum), Crispin Fletcher-Louis, Christopher R. A. Morray-Jones (ucenic al lui Rowland), Carry Newman, Alexander Golitzin şi Andrei Orlov, prieteni ai lui Fossum şi De Conick. După cum remarcă Fossum, este posibil să existe cu totul alte căi de circulaţie a temelor şi motivelor. Revenind bunăoară la disputa dintre Bultmann şi Dodd, Fossum propune o a treia cale. Cele două documente nu s-au influenţat reciproc, ci au fost influenţate de tradiţii mai vechi, prezente în spaţiul Palestinei antice.
Fenomenul religios purtând numele de gnosticism este de ceva vreme cunoscut publicului românesc, dacă ne gândim la faptul că cercetările lui Ioan-Petru Culianu există în librării de o bună perioadă de timp. Cercetătorii contemporani sunt încă departe de a fi elucidat originile şi semnificaţiile tuturor scrierilor gnostice. După cum Fossum a precizat poziţia noii şcoli, gnosticismul nu este privit ca religia ce stă la originile creştinismului, ci ca una dintre ramurile unui trunchi comun din care se dezvoltă totodată creştinismul, rabinismul şi gnosticismul. Mai mult chiar, islamul prezervă la rândul lui importante tradiţii iudaice. Trunchiul este cel al mentalităţilor formulate în perioada celui de-al doilea templu de la Ierusalim (596 î.H. – 70 d. H.).
Problema este însă că, aşa cum majoritatea cercetătorilor acceptă, nu a existat o singură tradiţie iudaică, un singur iudaism, ci o pluralitate de tradiţii delimitate de proprii seturi de scrieri şi, prin urmare, de proprii personaje acceptate drept model şi faţă de care exista o devoţiune specială, spre exemplu Moise (personajul central al Pentateuhului şi al comunităţii saduchee) sau Enoh (personaj central pentru comunităţile care au scris corpusul enohic, cu mare probabilitate în conexiune cu comunitatea de la Qumran), Avraam, Baruh etc. Gnosticismul, iarăşi atât cât putem vorbi de un singur gnosticism, iar nu mai degrabă de gnosticisme, de comunităţi şi tradiţii gnostice, face transparente variate tradiţii iudaice precum cele adamice, enohice, tradiţii Set, Melchisedec, Sofia, Şem şi altele.
Şcoala de la Marquette
In acest context de cercetare, direcţia grupului de la Marquette, ca ramură a noii şcoli de istoria religiei, este una a identificării traditiilor iudaice şi a felului în care comunităţile creştine au prelucrat aceste tradiţii iudaice cu intenţia exprimării propriului mesaj.* Dintre cele mai importante tradiţii pot fi enumerate cele kabod (gloria sau slava divină cu formă umană), cercetată de Golitzin, cele adamice, investigate de Silviu Bunta, şi cele enohice, cercetate de Andrei Orlov. Ceea ce face şcoala de la Marquette apoi este să analizeze traiectoriile acestor tradiţii în spaţiul creştin al lumii patristice astfel încât să poată revela conexiunea intimă, de adâncime, dintre scrierile patristice şi universul biblic. Contrar perspectivei lui Harnack, după care creştinismul greco-roman şi patristic a făcut o ruptură cu universul revelaţiei, scrierile patristice prezervă cu mare acuitate, chiar dacă în hainele agorale ale retoricii greceşti, motivele şi ideile capitale ale scripturilor, acum prelucrate în vederea comunicării propriului mesaj. Yahve şi gloria sau slava cerească, bunăoară, sunt uneori identificate cu Hristos, alteori Hristos apare ca al doilea ipostas şezând pe tronul ceresc.
Diferenţe metodologice între cele două şcoli de istoria religiilor
Revenind cu o idee generală privitoare la metodele noii şcoli, aceasta în esenţă nici nu mitologizează nici nu demitologizează, ci reconstituie mentalităţi şi tradiţii de mentalităţi. Adevărul istoric, deşi pare să treacă într-un loc secund, devine în fapt obiectivul şi ţinta cercetării, în timp ce datele istorice accesibile functionează ca puncte de marcaj în delimitarea contextelor temporale şi spaţiale ale circulaţiei motivelor şi simbolurilor. Căutarea adevărului devine o investigaţie riguroasă şi o conştientă construcţie în funcţie de teoriile noastre despre el, teorii care nu pot fi fantasmagorice deoarece comunitatea cercetătorilor reglează cu mare rigoare acceptarea oricărei teorii. Teoretizarea mediază astfel adevărul într-o continuă aproximare a lui.
În fine, deşi cele două şcoli acceptă anumite metode comune de cercetare precum criticismul textual sau cel formal, ele manifestă totuşi mari diferenţe, care constau în faptul că noua şcoală a renunţat la metoda demitologizării în exegeză şi îşi apropriază tot mai mult metoda hermeneutică. În fapt, nu se poate demonstra istoric că Hristos nu a fost Dumnezeu. Cum am mai spus, cercetarea devine o imersiune în lumea de motive şi simboluri pe care textul o conţine în măsura în care cercetătorul se poate desprinde de cultura şi contextul sau istoric şi de felul în care el vede lumea din perspectiva formării lui intelectuale sau mentale în acest context. În plus, comunitatea academică funcţionează aici ca un puternic arc de control al oricărei deraieri exegetice.
* Prin grupul de la Marquette, intitulat “Theophaneia”, mă refer la Alexander Golitzin, Andrei Orlov, Silviu Bunta, Bogdan Bucur, Elijah Mueller şi autorul acestor rânduri. Primul volum manifest al grupului va apărea în iarna aceasta la St. Petersburg în colecţia Scrinium, sub titlul The Theophaneia School: Jewish Roots of Eastern Christian Mysticism (Scrinium III; eds. Basil Lourie and Andrei A. Orlov; St. Petersburg: Byzantinorossica, 2007).
HEAVENLY IMAGES AND INVISIBLE WARS:
SEVEN CATEGORIES OF BIBLICAL AND EXTRA-BIBLICAL
IMAGERY AND TERMINOLOGY
IN THE ACTS OF THE MARTYRS OF LYONS AND VIENNE1
Published in Archaeus. Studies in the History of Religions X (2006) 147-165.
The Christian document of the second century known under the title the Acts of the Martyrs of Lyons and Vienne provides a number of various Greek and Jewish biblical and extra-biblical images and terminologies. The present study intends to identify these terminologies and classify them if possible into categories. Based on the insights of several previous scholars and adding my own investigations, I propose seven types of metaphors or terminologies that constitute the composite texture of the document.2 Thus, one may count the sapiential terminology, the metaphors of imitatio, the presence of glory terminology, that of the Qumran-War in opposition with that of Wisdom-Harmony, then the athletic language of the Greek stadiums, that of the two opposite spirits, and finally the liturgical language.
Generally, martyrdom seems to be conceived of as the gate to the highest completion accessible to a human being in the context of Jewish and Christian mindsets, namely the access to the water of life and to the divine glory of God (Christ in the present document, which is Christian). Accordingly, the display of all these types of terminologies reveals the document under consideration as a precious illustration of syncretism in Late Antiquity.3
1. Martyrdom, a New Way to the Heavenly Spring of Wisdom: Sapiential Metaphors
A number of important biblical and patristic terminologies show up in the following passage depicting the passions of Sanctus, one of the martyrs.
And though these [red-hot plates] did burn him, he none the less remained unbending and stubborn, firm in his confession of faith, cooled and strengthened by the heavenly fountain of the water of life that flaws from the side of Christ (u(po\ th=j ou)rani/ou phgh=j tou= u(/datoj th=j zwh=j tou= e)cio/ntoj e)k th=j nhdu/oj tou= Xristou= drosizo/menoj kai\ e)ndunamou/menoj). But his body bore witness to his sufferings, being all one bruise and one wound, stretched and distorted out of any recognizable human shape (a)nqrw/peioj morfh/); but Christ suffering in him (e)n %(= pa/sxwn Xristo/j) achieved great glory (mega/lh do/ca), overwhelming the Adversary (katargw=n to\n a)ntikei/menon), and showing as an example (u(potu/pwsin u(podeiknu/wn) to all the others that nothing is to be feared where the Father’s love (o(/pou patro\j a)gaph/) is, nothing painful where we find Christ’s glory (o(/pou Xristou= do/ca).4
The author of the document affirms that Sanctus has direct access to the heavenly fountain of the water of life at the very moment of the acme of Sanctus’s passions when his merciless torturers press “red-hot bronze plates” against his body. The martyr reached therefore, through the mediation of terrifying torments, the promised divine water of life.
The image of water reflects an important ancient symbol associated with life and divinity, eternal life being actually one of the attributes or qualities that primarily the deity enjoys. Since water is one of the central religious images expressing life, a key image in sapiential literature is the depiction of wisdom as a stream of water flowing from God. The symbol of water may represent either the idea of primordial potentiality, through the image of a primal sea or ocean,5 or the idea of an active and germinating source of life, symbolized through the image of flowing or overflowing waters.6 Some Sumerian representations express the thought that divinity is the source of water by the figuration of a god holding in his arms a jar with overflowing water.7 The same idea of a divine source may also be represented by the paradisiacal, and thus divine, geography wherefrom terrestrial rivers spring. In the Sumerian myth of Enki and Ninhursag, for example, water flows from the mouth of Enki, the god of water and procreation, and descends abundantly into the paradisiacal land/city of Dilmun.8 Similarly, while the river called Eridu springs directly from the ocean of sweet water, Apsu, where the plant of life has its habitation,9 in the famous epic cycle of Gilgamesh there is a story about Gilgamesh’ journey in the quest of the plant of life and one of the most important moments of the story reports Gilgamesh’ encounter with the wise Utnapishtim who lives “at the source of the rivers.”10
The Semitic image for the divine water of life overflowing from the mouth of a god appears in the Jewish sapiential authors as well, and wisdom is the first idea linked with this divine water.11 According to the Jewish sapiential tradition, wisdom comes from the divine realm, as far as it has its origin in the “mouth of God,”12 and plays an active role in the process of creation.13 At the same time, wisdom acquires the function of sustaining the entire universe. As an effusion from God, she consists of an overflowing of goodness that supports everything in the universe, making it anew.14 This representation also implies an ancient Semitic origin; very ancient Egyptian sources, for example, portray the goddess Maat as setting harmony over the whole universe.15 Moreover, similar to the other Semitic mythologies, Jewish sapiential literature eventually hypostatizes the divine wisdom.16
The ancient sapiential image of the water of life pouring from God may also be encountered in the core of the New Testament literature, now in a new and emblematic discourse. The image of the source of water, usually associated with divinity, is now transferred to the human being, which in this way becomes an earthly god.
On the last and greatest day of the feast, Jesus stood up and exclaimed, “Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as scripture says: ‘Rivers of living water will flow from within him [potamoiì e)k th=j koili¿aj au)tou= r(eu/sousin uÀdatoj zw½ntoj].’” He said this in reference to the Spirit that those who came to believe in him were to receive.17
The passage expressly suggests that those who believe in Jesus will become, in their turn, sources of the water of life. The expression involves a certain measure of audacity since it avers that the believers will become gods or like gods (actually, God’s icons /copies). The passage is a genuinely sapiential one because one can identify in Jesus’ appeal to those who thirst the figure of the divine wisdom calling from its sources.18
Perhaps the central Christian innovation in connection with the theme of the water of life is that which occurs in the Gospel writings where Christ is depicted as the very source (phgh/) of the heavenly water. What lies at the basis of this vision is the identification of the Savior with the heavenly Wisdom, which had been conceived already as a divine hypostasis in the sapiential literature. Besides this, for the author of the Letter about the Lyons martyrs the water of life has a special place of origin, namely Christ’s side (e)k th=j nhdu/oj). As Christ was not present there physically or sensibly, one may suppose that the way the martyr was procuring and drinking the heavenly water was either metaphorical or rather intelligible or spiritual.19 The reference to Christ’s side most likely denotes the New Testament scene of the passion when the Roman soldier pierces the side or chest of Jesus and blood and water floods out. Now, that holy chest stabbed by the spear becomes the intelligible spring of heavenly water that cools and strengthens the agonizing Sanctus.
2. Drinking from Christ’s Cup: Imitatio language
The language of imitatio seems to come out naturally in this semantic context. The martyr acquired his access to the heavenly water through passion, but his passion is not an ordinary one. It may be observed that, at the time when the saints of Lyons suffered their ordeal, many other individuals from all the corners of the empire, especially prisoners of war and criminals, used to suffer in Rome punishments of similar severity with those of the Christian martyrs. The element, however, that makes the passions of the Christian martyrs “un-ordinary” or “special” was the reiterating or the imitating of the unique passion of the Son of God. The martyr actually imitates the deeds of God, the paradigmatic gesta Dei, and this particular sort of deeds actually puts him in contact with the divine realities of the heavenly water or the heavenly grace. Human passion, therefore, becomes special through participation into the divine model/paradigm. For the author of the Letter, Christ’s passion indeed represents a model, a paradigm (u(potu/pwsij) in which the martyr not only participates in a secretive manner, but which the martyr reveals and shows to everybody.20 In consequence, the heavenly water of life becomes an accessible entity for an earthly human being already within this earthly life through Christ’s passion, which the martyr reiterates.
The idea of imitation present in this fragment is not a hapax of the document. The passage I.10 also claims about the martyr Vettius Epagathus that “He was and is a true disciple (gnh/sioj maqhth/j) of Christ, following (a)koloutw=n) the Lamb wherever he goes.” A link between the terms “disciple” and “following” is already seen in the books of the New Testament, for instance in the final passage of the Gospel of John where Christ reveals himself to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias. The scene contains the famous dialogue between Jesus and Peter where Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him and then explains to Peter that the time will come when Peter will stretch out his hands and someone else will fasten a belt around him taking him where he does not wish to go. The author of the Gospel then offers an exegesis of this saying in 21:19 explaining that the saying refers to Peter’s death, which will glorify God. Immediately after that Christ added to Peter: Follow Me (a)kolou/qei moi). The same expression recurs in 21:22 as Christ’s last words addressed to Peter and his last saying in the Gospel of John.
However, the phrase “following the Lamb” from the Letter recalls a similar expression from the Book of Revelation 14:1: oi( a)kolouqou=ntej t%= a)rni/%, (the followers of the Lamb). The passage portrays the Lamb enthroned on Mount Zion and the hundred forty-four thousand who sing an ineffable song before the throne, the four creatures, and the elders. While the author of the Apocalypse applauds their virginity and maintains that in this respect the hundred forty-four thousand “follow the Lamb wherever he goes,” it appears that the author of the Letter changes the object of imitation from Christ’s virginity to his martyrdom. Needless to say, it seems understood that the martyrs of Lyons will be, or perhaps are already, participants in the ineffable celestial song.
Moreover, the author of the Letter goes even further with the method of imitation. In the passage I.41 the martyr Blandina is noticeably portrayed not only as following Christ’s passion, but it appears that she becomes an incarnate image of Christ. We are told that the other martyrs see the vision of Christ in Blandina:
She seemed to hang there in the form of a cross (staurou= sxh/mati), and by her fervent prayer she aroused intense enthusiasm in those who were undergoing their ordeal, for in their torment (e)n t%= a)gw=ni) with their physical eyes (toi=j e)/cwqen o)fqalmoi=j) they saw (ble/pw) in the person of their sister him who was crucified for them (o( u(pe\r au)tw=n e)staurwme/noj).
In the passage I.42, Blandina is not only crucified like her Savior, but even the external or physical similarities with Christ increase to the point of getting clothed in Christ, (Xristo/n e)ndedume/nh). The verb employed here – e)ndu/w, “to clothe in, to put on” – is concrete enough to make a metaphorical interpretation highly implausible.21
3. Martyrdom, a New Way to Heavenly Glory: Glory Language and Visionary Metaphors
The passage I.23 might also suggest that the martyrs in their agony (e)n t%= a)gw=ni), have a real vision, something that they can perceive with their sensible eyes. The object of this vision is the crucified Christ. As it has been noticed, the case is not without similarities in the second century – if one keeps in mind such documents as the Acts of Paul and Thecla 21 where Christ appears to Thecla, within the context of her martyrdom, in the form of Paul.22
The feature that the Lyons document brings out consists of a vision of Christ suffering within the suffering martyr. The same image is used in both cases, Blandina’s and Sanctus’s: Christ was suffering in him (e)n %(= pa/sxwn Xristo/j)23.
Another interpretative key may be found in the apocalyptic literature where it is typical for the visionary tradition that the person who experienced the vision of the divine glory should be changed into the glory or the form of God. The pattern, known as the transformation of the visionary, may be traced from the experience that Moses had on Sinai to the Enochic books.24 Regarding the document about the martyrs, it seems that Sanctus is described as loosing his human form (a)nqrw/peioj morfh/) and gaining “great glory” (mega/lh do/ca), which is a typical expression for the light that surrounds either the enthroned divine figure, or the deified visionary.25 His human image, disfigured by torture, “stretched and distorted out of any recognizable human shape,” is now transfigured into a glorious and heavenly one, similar to that of God. It is worth noting that a similar transformation suffers Blandina, according to the same Letter, Thecla, in the Acts of Paul and Thecla 34, and Mariamne in the Acts of Philip 126.
Furthermore, the narrative depicts the martyr as reaching a status or a place (“where” [o(/pou]) in which there is no fear and no pain, but where the love of the Father is present (o(/pou patro\j a)gaph/) accompanied by the glory of Christ (o(/pou Xristou= do/ca). In fact, different scholars, such as Robin D. Young showed that martyrs transferred the Divine Liturgy into the agora and became holy places or temples, namely places where God dwells or reveals his glory as in the person of Moses or within the Temple of Jerusalem.26
In addition, pursuing the same methodology, the author seems to suggest in the passage I.27 that Christ manifests his glory within the martyrs, in other words changing their human countenance into a glorious one:27
Hence the majority were strangled in prison, as many as the Lord wished do die in this way, showing forth his glory (o( ku/rioj ou(/twj e)celqei=n h)qe/lhsen e)pideiknu/wn th\n au)tou= do/can).
Besides this, it is significant for a better understanding of the apocalyptic framework and expectations of the Christians of Lyons that the Letter gives at I.6 the following quotation from the Epistle to the Hebrews 10:33:
The sufferings of the present time are not to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us (h( me/llousa do/ca a)pokalufqh=nai ei)j h(ma=j).
It should be noticed that the common theme for the earthly context of the Lyons martyrdom and that of the celestial existence is the divine glory, namely that of the way in which God makes himself known to his beloved ones. The martyrs seem to participate in this state within their earthly existence.
A final idea that should be drawn in this chapter is that the literature of martyrdom replaces ascension – as the typical method of accessing the divine glory in the apocalyptic literature – by passion. This is true as far as one does not consider passion as a sort of ascension, be it internalized or not. Present also as early as in the Acts of the Apostles in the passage about Stephen’s martyrdom, and later in the Acts of Perpetua and Felicitas, the Acts of Paul and Thecla, and the Acts of Philip, it appears to be a new feature in the Jewish-Christian visionary mindset: the divine place, the divine realm and its glory, can be accessed by a new means; it is not ascension or asceticism, but passion and suffering death for Christ.28
The origins of the idea are therefore New Testamental. Stephen is depicted according to a prophetic paradigm: he is “full of grace and power (du/namij),” where du/namij represents a common title for the Holy Spirit or his operation, and “did wonders and signs among the people” (Acts 6:8). After that, he has an inspired discourse and is stoned. At the end of his ordeal, i.e. at the end of the martyric process, “filled with the Holy Spirit,” Stephen contemplates the glory of God and Jesus as the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God (Acts 7:55-56).
How could one understand this change in the method of experiencing the divine glory? I suppose that the element of imitation of God should be essential. The martyr, as I mentioned above, does not imitate ordinary activities, but the concrete divine deeds of Jesus. At the very moment when the martyr commits himself to martyrdom he commits himself to a divine existence, to a life similar to that the Son of Man lived on earth.29
4. Martyrdom as Struggle with the Invisible Powers: Wisdom-Harmony vs. Qumran-War Images
Sapiential metaphors also appear in a different conceptual context, that of the parallel between harmony/peace and war. This parallel occurs for instance in the passage II.6, where the martyrs are asking eternal life from God, therefore for one of the most important sapiential elements. The life they ask for is not the earthly one – in which case they would have been contradicting with their will to die for Christ – but the life eternal that springs from the water of life:
Because of the sincerity of their love this became the greatest of all the contests which they waged against the Demon (me/gistoj au)toi=j pro\j au)to\n o( po/lemoj), to the end that the throttled Beast (a)popnixqei\j o( qh\r) might be forced to disgorge alive all those whom he at first thought he had devoured. […] Life (zwh/) was what they asked for and he [the Father] gave it to them, and this they shared with their neighbor when they went off completely victorious to God (pa/ntwn nikhfo/roi pro\j qeo\n). Peace (ei)rh/nh) they had always loved, and it was peace which they commended to us for ever. In peace they departed to God, leaving no pain for their Mother [Church?], no strife (sta/sij) or conflict (po/lemoj) for their brothers, but rather joy, peace, harmony, and love.
A striking parallel appears in this text between two different types of languages; a language of war and a language of harmony. The language of war (po/lemoj) and contest (a)gw/n) is directed against the Beast (qh\r) that devoured humankind, while the language of peace is associated with the atmosphere the martyrs create inside the Christian community. The terminology originating in the wisdom literature reflects the effect that martyrdom has on the Christian community, namely that of purging strife (sta/sij) and conflict (po/lemoj) and creating joy (xara/), peace (ei)rh/nh), concord (o(mo/noia), and love (a)gaph/). It is also worth noting that the epistle begins with the greetings that the community of Lyons sends to their brothers of Asia and Phrygia, greetings expressed in the same sapiential language of harmony: peace, grace, glory from the Father and from the Lord.30
In contrast, the relationship with the people outside the Christian community is depicted in terms of combat. This terminology might reveal, on the sociological level, the characteristics of a marginalized, underground, and oppressed community. The war language has its roots as far back as in the mindset of the community of Qumran as it can be seen in such passages as Community Rule II, War Rule III, 4Q286.1, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice 4Q400-7, 4Q280-286 (Berakhot), 11Q13 (Melchizedek), 4Q544.2 (T.Amram). Displaying a similar mindset to the Qumranite one, the Letter envisages two battle-camps, two armies, each of them presupposing a visible, or earthly level, as well as an invisible level. While the martyrs take the place of the Qumranite “sons of light,” the torturers represent the opposite side or the “sons of darkness.” The following scheme may reflect better the whole scenario:
The Visible War
Qumran
The sons of light
(Members of the Qumran community)
vs.
The sons of darkness
(Romans, the wicked priesthood of the Temple)
Lyons
Christian community, esp. the martyrs Pothinus, Blandina, Epagathus, Sanctus, Maturus, Attalus, Biblis, Alexander, Ponticus
Vs. the governor (o( h(gemw/n), the tribune (o( xili/arxoj), the city authorities (oi( th=j po/lewj ecousiw=n), the soldiers (oi( stratiw/tai), the mob (o( o)/xloj), the populace (to\ plh=qoj), the people (o( dh=moj)
The Invisible War
Qumran
Michael/Melchizedek and his angels
Vs.
Belial/Melchireša and his bad angels
Lyons
Christ/The Lord/the grace
Vs. the Adversary (o( a)ntikei/menoj: 1:5, 23, 42), the Evil One (o( ponhro/j: 1:6); Satan (o( satana=: 1:14, 16), Devil (o( dia/boloj: 1:25, 27, 35), that one (au)to/j: 2:6); Beast (qh\r: 2:6).
The following war/combat terminology help describe the outlook and how the armies are arrayed one against the other. First, the reader is told that God’s grace (h( xa/rij) behaves like a general or a military leader (a)ntistrathge/w) against the army of the Adversary (o( a)ntikei/menoj). The debate is a “great conflict (a)gw/n me/gaj),”31 an “intricate/brilliant combat (poiki/loj a)gw/n),”32 “the most intense (me/gistoj)” one.33 For instance, one of the martyrs, Attalus “entered the arena as a warrior (fighter, a)gwnisth/j) well prepared for the contest.”34 The other two martyrs, Maturus and Sanctus, “defeated their opponent in many contests (dia\ pleio/nwn klh/rwn e)kbebiako/tej to\n a)nti/palon).”35 In another passage, “all the wrath (h( o)rgh\ pa=sa) of the mob, the prefect, and the soldiers fell with overwhelming force (u(perbeblhme/nwj e)ne/skhyen, literally “lanced with force”)” on both of them and Attalus.36 After enduring the time of torture, as we are told in the case of Photinus, the martyrs’ death comes and Christ, who has suffered in them as their invisible companion and support, also triumphed (qriambeu/w) in them.37
At this point the victory language comes into relief. The martyrs “went off completely victorious to God (kata\ pa/ntwn nikhfo/roi pro\j qeo\n a)pelqo/ntej)38 and “the great crown of immortality (o( me/gaj th=j a)fqarsi/aj ste/fanoj)” was the award for those who became victorious in such a glorious way (mega/lwj nikh/santej).39 Moreover, the anonymous author suggests a sort of parade of the triumphant martyrs entering Paradise and marching before the heavenly King. First, the above mentioned expression “went off completely victorious to God (kata\ pa/ntwn nikhfo/roi pro\j qeo\n a)pelqo/ntej)40 testifies to this. Second, the next passage:
The blessed Blandina was last of all: like a noble mother encouraging her children, she sent them before her in triumph to the King (nikhfo/rouj prope/myasa pro\j to\n basile/a), and then, after duplicating in her own body all her children’s sufferings, she hastened to rejoin them, rejoicing and glorying in her death as though she had been invited to a bridal banquet instead of being a victim of the beasts.41
How does one explain the presence of this Qumranite feature in a Christian community of A.D. 177? Or was it not only Qumranite?42 Perhaps it represents a common mindset of the first centuries as one can observe in Ignatius’ Letter to the Ephesians 13:
Take heed, then, often to come together to give thanks to God, and show forth His praise. For when ye assemble frequently in the same place, the powers of Satan are destroyed, and the destruction at which he aims is prevented by the unity of your faith. Nothing is more precious than peace, by which all war, both in heaven and earth, is brought to an end. Take heed, then, often to come together to give thanks to God, and show forth His praise. For when ye come frequently together in the same place, the powers of Satan are destroyed, and his “fiery darts” urging to sin fall back ineffectual. For your concord and harmonious faith prove his destruction, and the torment of his assistants. Nothing is better than that peace which is according to Christ, by which all war, both of aërial and terrestrial spirits, is brought to an end. “For we wrestle not against blood and flesh, but against principalities and powers, and against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places.”
5. Which Spirit Dwells in You? Two-Spirits Idiom
Other language of biblical and Qumranite pedigree is that of the two opposing spirits.43
The text reports about Vettius Epagathus that “he possessed the Advocate within him (para/klhtoj e)n e(aut%=), the Spirit that filled (to\ pneu=ma ple/on) Zachary.”44 Also Blandina “was filled with such power (e)mplhrw/qh du/namewj)” and resistance that the torturers were “weary and exhausted” torturing her and unable to convert her.45 While the martyrs were “strengthened (a)narrwnnu/menoi) and given power (e)ndunamou/menoi) by the Lord in soul and body,” the tyrants were “filled with the Devil (diabo/lou plh/reij).”46 Yet, the narrative relates that martyrs were “filled […] with the fear of God (e)mpeplhsme/noi fo/bou qeou=)” and Vettius Epagathus “full of love of God (plh/rwma a)ga/phj th=j pro\j to\n qeo\n).”
6. Running for Christ’s Crown of Laurels: Athletic Terminology
Athletic language represents another type of idiom encountered in the Letter of the Martyrs of Lyons, an idiom that has strong connection with the above-mentioned war language. In fact, it represents the Greek agonistic facet of the Qumran-war idiom, which implies such terminology as “athlete,” “competition,” “crown,” or “victory.” Depicted through athletic metaphors, Christ is not a general any more, but an exemplary or paradigmatic athlete, mighty and invincible, a model for his disciple-martyrs. For that reason, the language of imitatio shows up in this context as well, intertwined with that of that of the Greco-Roman stadiums.
Expressed from a methodological perspective, the language of imitatio might also indicate a general (or a more general) feature of thought applied in various particular languages such as the athletic one, the glory, the combat or harmony ones – in all of them Christ being the model or the paradigm while the martyrs are his followers who became icons of God. The report portrays Blandina, for example, as having put on “Christ, that mighty and invincible athlete (me/gaj kai\ a)katagw/nistoj a)qlhth/j), and had overcome the Adversary in many contests (dia\ pollw=n klh/rwn), and through her conflict (a)gw/n) had won the crown (ste/fanoj) of immortality.”47 While Blandina is a “noble athlete (gennai=oj a)qlhth/j),”48 Maturus, too, is described as a “noble fighter” (gennai=oj a)gwnisth/j),49 whereas in the passage I.36 all the martyrs of Lyons gain the same attribute of “noble athletes”. However, in contradistinction to ordinary athletes, the martyrs of Lyons do not run and fight for their own glory, but give to Christ all the glory of their victories. The text also discloses the idea that the martyrs are co-fighters with Christ, since they imitate Him who is the model of all the athletes.
7. Martyrdom as Liturgy: Sacrificial Vocabulary
As Robin D. Young argued in her book In Procession before the World, one of the elementary features of martyric literature is that of self-offering as sacrifice:
Martyrdom was also a ritual, in all likelihood imagined ahead of time and understood as both a repetition of baptism or a substitute of it, and a sacrifice parallel and similar to Christ’s passion and the Eucharist, that is to say, as a redemptive sacrifice. It was the instantiation of the Temple’s new presence among Christians, who saw themselves as true Israel and spiritual temples.50
The interesting aspect of this ritual was the fact that it was public, while the Christian Eucharist was still a secret event, and in this way martyrdom represented a translation of the Eucharistic sacrifice in a public space. In fact, being brought into the arena and forced to be part of the Roman spectacles,51 martyrs changed the spectacles into Christian rituals of self-offering as sacrifice. The Letter contains an illustrative passage making obvious the awareness of the Christian community about this idea:
Though their spirits endured much throughout the long contest, they were in the end sacrificed (e)tu/qhsan), after being made all the day long a spectacle to the world (qe/ama t%= ko/sm%) to replace the varied entertainment of the gladiatorial combat.52
Conclusions
Analyzing the images and terminologies of the document known under the title the Acts of the Martyrs of Lyons and Vienne seems to offer a glimpse into the mindset of a Christian community of the second century Gaul. The Christians of Lyons appear to think in a very complex system of terminologies, metaphors, symbols, and images that can be understood as an eclectic web of Jewish and Greco-Roman pedigree.
The Letter reveals a Christian community for which the idea of martyrdom represents a ritual sacrifice and a liturgy, a key method of accessing the divine source of life and glory. The literature of martyrdom replaces the typical means of accessing the divine glory in the apocalyptic literature, namely ascension, by passion. Present also as early as in the Acts of the Apostles in the passage about Stephen’s martyrdom, and later in the Acts of Perpetua and Felicitas, it appears to be a new feature in the Jewish-Christian mindset: the divine place, the divine realm and its glory, can be accessed through a new method. It is not the ascension or asceticism, but passion and suffering death for Christ.
Martyrdom stands then for an athletic combat and a war between the powers of the invisible world in which human beings fully participate, strengthened in their torments by the manifest power of Christ or of his glory.
Besides all these six sorts of terminologies, the language of imitatio might play the role of a more general scheme of thought applied to some of these particular languages, e.g., to the athletic language, then glory, combat or harmony languages. Christ represents everywhere the model or the paradigm for his followers, the martyrs, who become authentic divine icons.
1 A short version of this article was presented at the the 6th EASR and IAHR Special Conference, Bucharest, 20-23 September 2006. The present version, originally published in Archaeus X (2006), fasc.1-2, 147-65, is now reprinted with the kind permission of the editors.
2 See for example Jean Rougé and Robert Turcan, Les Martyrs de Lyon (177): Lyon, 20-23 septembre 1977 (Paris : Éditions du CNRS, 1978); Annick Lallemand, “Le parfum des martyrs dans les Actes des martyrs de Lyon et le Martyre de Polycarpe,” in Studia Patristica 16:2 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1985), 186-192; Heinrich Kraft, “Die Lyoner Martyrer und der Montanismus,” in Ernst Dassmann and K. Suso Frank, Pietas: Festschrift für Bernhard Kötting (Münster: Aschendorffsche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1980), 250-266; Juan de Churruca, “Confesseurs non condamnés à mort dans le procès contre les Chrétiens de Lyon l’année 177,” Vigiliae Christianae 38:3 (1984): 257-270; Denis M. Farkasfalvy, “Christological Content and Its Biblical Basis in the Letter of the Martyrs of Gaul,” Second Century: A Journal of Early Christian Studies 9:1 (1992): 5-25; Frederick W. Weidmann, “The Martyrs of Lyons,” in Religions of Late Antiquity in Practice, ed. RichardValantasis (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000), 398-412; Elizabeth A. Goodine and Matthew W. Mitchell, “The Persuasiveness of a Woman: The Mistranslation and Misinterpretation of Eusebius’ Historia Ecclesiastica 5.1.41,” Journal of Early Christian Studies 13:1 (2005): 1-20.
3 For some basic bibliography on martyrdom, see for instance Diana Wood, ed., Martyrs and Martyrologies: Papers Read at the 1992 Summer Meeting and the 1993 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society (Oxford, UK; Cambridge, Mass., USA, 1993); Glen W. Bowersock, Martyrdom and Rome (Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995); Christel Butterweck, “Martyriumssucht“ in der Alten Kirche? Studien zur Darstellung und Deutung frühchristlicher Martyrien (Tübingen: Mohr, 1995); Christopher Ocker and Elizabeth A. Castelli, eds., Visions and Voyeurism: Holy Women and the Politics of Sight in Early Christianity (Berkeley, C.A.: Center for Hermeneutical Studies, 1995); Mathijs Lamberigts and Peter van Deun, eds., Martyrium in Multidisciplinary Perspective: Memorial Louis Reekmans (Leuven: University Press; Uitgeverij Peeters, 1995); Passion de Perpétue et de Félicité, S.C. 417, critical text, translation and commentary by Jacqueline Amat (Paris: Cerf, 1996) ; Donald G. Kyle, Spectacles of Death in Ancient Rome (London ; New York: Routledge, 1998); Daniel Boyarin, Dying for God: Martyrdom and the Making of Christianity and Judaism (Stanford, Stanford University Press, 1999); Herbert A. Musurillo, ed., The Acts of the Pagan Martyrs: Acta Alexandrinorum (Oxford, New York: Clarendon Press and Oxford University Press, 2000); Robin D. Young, In Procession before the World: Martyrdom as Public Liturgy in Early Christianity (Milwaukee, WI: Marquette University Press, 2001); Björn Mensing and Heinrich Rathke, eds., Widerstehen : Wirkungsgeschichte und aktuelle Bedeutung christlicher Märtyrer (Leipzig: Evangelisches Verlagsanstalt, 2002); Elizabeth A. Castelli, Martyrdom and Memory: Early Christian Culture Making (New York: Columbia University Press, 2004); Abraham Gross, Spirituality and Law: Courting Martyrdom in Christianity and Judaism (Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 2005).
4 For the present article I will make use of Herbert Musurillo’s Greek and English texts from The acts of the Christian Martyrs (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 62-85. The Greek text reproduces the critical edition of Eduard Schwartz and Theodor Mommsen, eds., Eusebius Werke, vol. 2, Die Kirchengeschichte, pt.1, Books 1-5 (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1903). For other translations, see Arthur C. McGiffert, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series 2, vol. 1; James Stevenson, ed., A New Eusebius: Documents Illustrating the History of the Church to AD 337 (London: SPCK, 1987), 36-42, and Christian F. Crusé, Eusebius’ Ecclesiastical History: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998).
5 Mircea Eliade, Traité d’histoire des religions (Paris: Payot, 1953), 170-171.
6 Cf. Eliade, Traité, 168: “Principe de l’indifférentiel et du virtuel, fondement de toute manifestation cosmique, réceptacle de tous les germes, les eaux symbolisent la substance primordiale dont naissent toutes les formes et dans lesquelles elles reviennent, par régression ou par cataclysme. Elles ont été au commencement, elles reviennent à la fin de tout cycle historique ou cosmique; elles existeront toujours – bien que jamais seules, parce que les eaux sont toujours germinatives, renfermant dans leur unité non fragmentée les virtualités de toutes les formes. Dans la cosmogonie, dans le mythe, dans le rituel, dans l’iconographie, les Eaux remplissent la même fonction, quelle que soit la structure des ensembles culturels dans lesquelles elles se trouvent: elles précèdent toute forme et supportent toute création.”
7 See, for example, John A. MacCulloch, ed., The Mythology of All Races, vol. 5, Semitic, by Stephen H. Langdon (New York: Cooper Square Publishers, 1964), 95, where a Sumerian seal represents a god (probably Anu) holding in his hands a jar of water that flows down to the figures of Capricorn and Aquarius, the later a constellation that belongs to the “way of Anu” (Langdon, 96). Langdon also mentions that “[t]he astronomers divided the fixed stars into three parallel band called the ‘way of Anu,’ ‘the way of Enlil,’ and ‘way of Ea’ (Langdon, 94).” Two other representations should are noteworthy: first, a bas-relief of Ur-Nammu of Ur represents a jar of overflowing water held by a winged angel who descends from heaven to a pious king (Langdon, 94); second, a seal of Ibnisharri, dedicated to Shargalisharri, king of Agade, figures Gilgamesh as the one who holds the jar of the water of life; from the jar also springs the plant of life (Langdon, 98).
8 “From the ‘mouth whence issues the waters of the earth,’ brought her sweet water from the earth; /He brings up the water into her large… /Makes her city drink from it the waters of abundance, /Makes Dilmun (drink from it) the waters of ab(undance)” (James B. Pritchard, ed., Ancient Near Eastern Texts. Relating to the Old Testament, trans. S.N. Kramer [Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1969], 38).
9 P. Dhorme, Revue Biblique, 1919: 358. Cf. Gerard P. Luttikhuizen, Paradise Interpreted: Representations of Biblical Paradise in Judaism and Christianity (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 1999).
10 The Epic of Gilgamesh, Tablet xi, 208, trans. Benjamin Foster (New York, London: W.W. Northon, 2001) 91. For adifferent translation, see the expression “at the mouth of the rivers,” Tablet xi, v.195 in Pritchard, Ancient Near Eastern Texts, trans. E.A. Speiser, 95.
11 “I have struck root among the glorious people, in the portion of the LORD, his heritage. ‘Like a cedar on Lebanon I am raised aloft, like a cypress on Mount Hermon, Like a palm tree in En-gedi, like a rosebush in Jericho, Like a fair olive tree in the field, like a plane tree growing beside the water. Like cinnamon, or fragrant balm, or precious myrrh, I give forth perfume; Like galbanum and onycha and sweet spices, like the odor of incense in the holy place. I spread out my branches like a terebinth, my branches so bright and so graceful. I bud forth delights like the vine, my blossoms become fruit fair and rich. Come to me, all you that yearn for me, and be filled with my fruits; You will remember me as sweeter than honey, better to have than the honeycomb. He who eats of me will hunger still, he who drinks of me will thirst for more; He who obeys me will not be put to shame, he who serves me will never fail.’ All this is true of the book of the Most High’s covenant, the law which Moses commanded us as an inheritance for the community of Jacob. It overflows, like the Pishon, with wisdom– like the Tigris in the days of the new fruits. It runs over, like the Euphrates, with understanding, like the Jordan at harvest time. It sparkles like the Nile with knowledge, like the Gihon at vintage time (Sir 24:12-25).” Cf. “Who commands so that it comes to pass, except the Lord ordains it; Except it proceeds from the mouth of the Most High, whether the thing be good or bad! (Lam 3:37-38).”
12 “From the mouth of the Most High I came forth, and mist like covered the earth. In the highest heavens did I dwell, my throne on a pillar of cloud (Sir 24:3-4).” See also Sir 24: 24-31 for the identity between wisdom or knowledge and water.
13 “All wisdom comes from the LORD and with him it remains forever (Sir 1:1).” “Before all things else wisdom was created; and prudent understanding, from eternity (Sir 1:4).” “How varied are your works, LORD! In wisdom you have wrought them all (Ps 104:24).” Cf. Prov 3:14; Jer 10:12; 51:15.
14 “For Wisdom is mobile beyond all motion, and she penetrates and pervades all things by reason of her purity. For she is an aura of the might of God and a pure effusion of the glory of the Almighty; therefore nought that is sullied enters into her. For she is the refulgence of eternal light, the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness. And she, who is one, can do all things, and renews everything while herself perduring (Wis 7:24-27).” Cf. “He has poured her forth upon all his works, upon every living thing according to his bounty; he has lavished her upon his friends (Sir 1:8).”
15 She is present at the judgment of the dead (see the Greenfield papyrus of the British Museum, 1075-944, in S. Schroer, Wisdom Has Built Her House. Studies on the Figure of Sophia in the Bible [Collegeville, Minnesota: The Liturgical Press, 2000], 9), she pours the water of life over them (sarcophagus painting in Turin; Schroer, 10), she guards the boat of the sun god Amun-Re (relief from the Holy of Holies of the Temple of Ramses II in Wadi Sebua, cc 1250 BCE; Schroer, 11), guards the solar disc (breastplate of King Sheshonk II of Tanis, 10th c. BCE; Ibid., 11) and the enthroned Tutankhamen (the counterweight of a breastplate from the treasury of Tutankhamen, 1336-1325, in Cairo; Ibid., 12). Cf. Celia Deutsch, Hidden Wisdom and the Easy Yoke: Wisdom, Torah and Discipleship in Mathew 11.25-30 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987).
16 See Martino Conti, La sapienza personificata negli elogi veterotestamentari (Pr 8; Gb 28; Sir 24; Bar 3; Sap7) (Roma: Pontificium Athenaeum Antonianum: 2001) or Celia M. Deutsch, Lady Wisdom, Jesus, and the Sages (Valley Forge, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 1996), 10-14: In the sapiential literature, wisdom is personified as teacher, prophet, hymn player, bride, wife, lover, mother, nurse, God’s daughter, etc.
17 Jn 7:37-39. Koili¿a actually refers either to abdomen, or to both abdomen and thorax (Liddell-Scott, 966).
18 The same image of the Wisdom that calls (now incarnated in Jesus) appears in Jn 4:13-14: “Jesus answered and said to her, ‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again; but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’” Cf. Jn 4:13-14 and 7 37, 39 with Sir 24: 18-21: “Come to me, all you that yearn for me, and be filled with my fruits; You will remember me as sweeter than honey, better to have than the honeycomb. He who eats of me will hunger still, he who drinks of me will thirst for more; He who obeys me will not be put to shame, he who serves me will never fail.” See also Deutsch’s Lady Wisdom for the incarnated Wisdom in Mt.11.
19 I am indebted to Dr. Michel R. Barnes, Marquette University for the mention that Irenaeus of Lyons identified Wisdom with the Holy Spirit, probably in contradistinction with the member of his diocese who wrote the letter and identified Wisdom with the Son.
20 The anonymous author employs the verb u(podei/knumi, which may be rendered through the English verbs “to show,” “to indicate,” or “to give an example.”
21 See the next paragraph for the interpretation of this transformation of the human shape into a divine one within the apocalyptic or visionary framework.
22 The New Testament Apochrypha II [Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1965] 358, or Acta apostolorum apocrypha I, ed. Lipsius 1891, p.250.
23 Letter, I.23.
24 See, for example, John J. Collins, “The Apocalyptic Technique: Setting and Function in the Book of Watchers,” The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 44:1 (1982): 91-111; David Halperin, “Heavenly Ascension in Ancient Judaism: The Nature of the Experience,” SBL Seminar Papers 26 (1987): 218-231; Martha Himmelfarb, “Revelation and Rapture: The Transformation of the Visionary in the Ascent Apocalypses,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament (1988): 79-90; Christopher R.A. Morray-Jones, “Transformational Mysticism in the Apocalyptic-Merkabah Tradition,” The Journal of Jewish Studies 43:1 (1992): 1-31. For internalized apocalyptic, see Christopher R.A. Morray-Jones, “The Temple Within: The Embodied Divine Image and its Worship in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Jewish and Christian Sources,” SBL Supplement Series 37 (1998): 400-431; Andrei A. Orlov and Alexander Golitzin, “’Many Lamps are Lightened from the One’: Paradigms of the Transformational Vision in Macarian Homilies,” Vigiliae Christianae 55 (2001) 281-98; Alexander Golitzin, “’Earthly Angels and Heavenly Men’: The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, Niketas Stethatos, and the Tradition of ‘Interiorized Apocalyptic’ in Eastern Christian Ascetical and Mystical Literature,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 55 (2001).
25 For the phrase mega/lh do/ca, see especially Ezekiel the Tragedian.
26 For the martyrdom as liturgy see Young, In Procession before the World, esp. 3-37 where she expounds on the theology and imagery of Temple and Eucharist in early Christian accounts of martyrdom. Cf. Ignatius, To the Romans 7, and the Letter to the Smyrneans 14-15, in Lettres. Martyre de Polycarpe, Greek text, introduction, translation, and notes by Thomas CamElot (S.C. 10; Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1969), 116 and 226-8, respectively. For the martyrs as holy places, see also Alexander Golitzin’s “Topos Theou: The Monastic Elder as Theologian and as Theology. An Appreciation of Archimandrite Aimilianos,” in Dimitri Conomos and Graham Speake, eds., Mount Athos the Sacred Bridge. The Spirituality of the Holy Mountain (Oxford, Berlin, New York: Peter Lang, 2005) 201-241 esp.214-28; Golitzin analyzes the idea of martyr as topos theou in the Book of Acts (Stephen’s martyrdom), Ignatius of Antioch’ Letter to Romans 2 and 4, the Letter to the Smyrneans 13.2 where Polycarp before the place of his martyrdom takes off his shoes like a new Moses, then Tertullian’s De Corona 1, PL 2.95A, the Acts of Priscilla, the Acts of Thomas 94, the Acts of Paul and Thecla 34, or the Acts of Philip 126.
27 Farkasfalvy’s article is rich in references to the theme of glory; see also Golitzin’s article on Thopos Theou.
28 For the connection between glory and martyrdom, see Emmanuel LannE (Irenikon 3 [1976] 275ff) in Irenaeus, and Golitzin, Farkasfalvy for the martyrs. Besides Irenaeus and the Letter, if one takes into account the episode with Stephen’s martyrdom in the Acts and the Acts of Perpetua, one may realize the large geographic and temporal extent of the connection between the themes of glory and martyrdom in the theological mindset of the early Christian communities.
29 See Eliade for the general idea that imitating the actions of divinity represents a way to get in connection with the divine existence (e.g. The Myth of the Eternal Return, Myth and Reality, or The Sacred and the Profane.). One might also suggest that other New Testament roots for the connection between martyrdom and glory may be found in the Gospel of John 17:2 in Jesus’ prayer in the garden of Gethsemane before his passion: “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him.” Moreover, the sapiential theme of divine life is also connected with Christ, the glory, and martyrdom as in the Letter of Lyons. This may not be a big surprise if one keeps in mind the strong relationships of the community of Lyons with the communities of Asia Minor known as Johannine and apocalyptic.
30 For the connections between the Christians of Lyons and those of Asia Minor see Glen Bowersock, “Les Églises de Lyon et de Vienne: relations avec Asie,” in Les Martyrs de Lyon, 249-256.
31 Letter I.11, 40.
32 Letter I.36.
33 Letter I.51.
34 Letter I.43.
35 Letter I.38.
36 Letter I.17.
37 Letter I.29.
38 Letter II.7.
39 Letter I.36.
40 Letter II.7.
41 Letter I.55.
42 As several scholars suggested, due to its connection to the cities of Asia Minor, the community of Lyons was deeply influenced by apocalyptic framework, most of them of Jewish origins, and consequently most probably one of the regions where Qumranite features spread out. For the connections between Judaism and Lyons, see William Frend, “Blandina and Perpetua: Two Early Christian Heroines,” in Les Martyrs de Lyon, 167-177 and Marcel Simon, “Judaïsme et christianisme en Gaule,” in Les Martyrs de Lyon, 257-266.
43 The ‘two-spirits’ theme appears in the Community Rule at Qumran 1QS 3:17-25 and the Testament of Judah 20:1. The ‘two-spirits’ language has strong connections with the imagery of the ‘two-ways’ and of the ‘two-inclinations,’ both of them part of ancient mentalities ranging from Babylon to Egypt and Greece, as Gérard-H. Baudry shows in his book La voie de la vie. Étude sur la catéchèse des pères de l’église (Paris: Beauchesne, 1999). The idea of two inspiring divinities seems to exist in the Greek and Latin cultures as well, as the oracle cited by Lydus can prove. The ordinary name of these divinities was that of dai/monej or manes (Pierre Boyancé, “Les deux démons personnels dans l’Antiquité grecque et latine,” Revue de philologie, 1935, 189-202).
44 Letter I.10.
45 Letter I.18.
46 Letter I.27.
47 Letter I.42.
48 Letter I.19.
49 Letter I.17.
50 Young, In Procession, 12.
51 “Thus at the outset of the festival (panh/gurij) here (and it was one of that was crowded with people who had come to it from all countries) the governor brought the blessed martyrs before the tribunal to make a show and a spectacle (e)pi\ to\ bh=ma qeatri/zwn) of them before the crowds (Letter 1:46-47).”
52 Letter, I.40.
