Review of 'Heaven and Hell: A History of the Afterlife' by Bart D. Ehrman

I learned recently through social media of Bart Ehrman's essay in Time Magazine entitled What Jesus Really Said About Heaven and Hell. The provocative headline and claims within had the intended effect: they induced me to buy Ehrman's new book (on which the Time essay is based), Heaven and Hell: A History of the Afterlife. For readers unfamiliar with Ehrman, he is one of the world's leading New Testament scholars, specialising in textual criticism (efforts to reconstruct the original Greek text using analytical methods). He is also a former Evangelical Christian who is now an agnostic, and through his many popular-level books (and some public debates with leading Christian scholars), has emerged as a leading spokesperson for contemporary post-Christian critics of the historical and theological claims of classical Christianity.

Ehrman has had several previous bestsellers, such as Misquoting Jesus and How Jesus Became God, and in all likelihood Heaven and Hell will follow suit. The book follows a template similar to his previous works: it makes a few provocative and controversial claims, but in fact about 80% of the content represents an introduction some area of biblical and historical scholarship. That is, Ehrman expends most of his ink not defending his headline-grabbing theses, but describing uncontroversial findings of modern scholarship. Thus, Misquoting Jesus is an introduction to textual criticism, How Jesus Became God to historical Christology, and Heaven and Hell to historical 'individual eschatology'—beliefs about the afterlife. Ehrman's writing style is accessible, engaging, and cheeky. He manages simultaneously to entertain and inform the reader, which is probably what has made him so successful in writing popular books.

With that said, I can recommend at least 80% of the content of Heaven and Hell, apart from a few attempts at humour that overstep my threshold of good taste. My opinion of the other 20%, in which Ehrman defends his own controversial interpretations of the biblical and historical record, requires more nuance.

Overview of the Book

Heaven and Hell's most distinctive thesis is that belief in a literal heaven and hell—places of reward and punishment to which people go after death—does 'not go back to the earliest stages of Christianity'; 'cannot be found in the Old Testament and they are not what Jesus himself taught' (p. 14). These ideas, so central to classical and contemporary Christian theology, are post-Jesus innovations.

The book consists of fourteen chapters. Chapter 1 introduces the reader to some of the more fanciful descriptions of the afterlife in early non-canonical Christian literature. Having seen in these works the seeds of 'belief in a literal heaven and hell' as espoused by most contemporary Christians, Ehrman proposes to go back and see where these ideas came from. He thus embarks on a journey through the ancient history of ideas about death and afterlife. Chapter 2 takes us all the way back to the Ancient Near East (the Epic of Gilgamesh). Chapters 3 and 4 look at Greek thought from Homer down into the Christian era. Chapters 5 and 6 consider the Hebrew Bible. Chapter 7 summarises developments in Jewish thought between the Hebrew Bible and the time of Jesus. Chapter 8 looks at the beliefs of historical Jesus, insofar as they can be reconstructed (primarily from Mark and Matthew). Chapter 9 looks at Paul the Apostle, and chapter 10 delves into the later Gospels (Luke, John, and certain noncanonical gospels), which he regards as preserving post-Jesus Christian developments. Chapter 11 analyses the Book of Revelation, and chapters 12 to 14 study Christian beliefs about the afterlife in the patristic period, up to the time of Augustine (early fifth century C.E.) My appraisal below will focus largely on the biblical literature, i.e. on chapters 5 to 10.

Appraisal of Ehrman's Historical Claims

Hebrew Bible

I found Ehrman's treatment of the Hebrew Bible to be both satisfactory and uncontroversial. With most modern scholars, he maintains that the Hebrew Bible does not, for the most part—on a purely historical reading as opposed to Christian theological interpretation—witness to any belief in an afterlife. He thinks that Sheol in the Hebrew Bible is largely synonymous with the grave, denoting 'a complete diminution of life, to the point of virtual nonexistence' (p. 80). Death marks the end of all that can be called life, with a few curious exceptions such as Samuel (recalled by the witch of Endor), Enoch, and Elijah. The Hebrew prophets, in oracles such as Isaiah 26 and Ezekiel 37, use language of resurrection to metaphorically predict a restoration of Israel's national fortunes. Such language eventually inspired the notion of individual resurrection to eternal life, an idea attested in the Hebrew Bible only in the Book of Daniel (the last book of the Hebrew Bible in terms of date of composition).

Subsequent Jewish Literature

Ehrman describes subsequent developments in early Jewish thought as attested in other literature from the Second Temple period. He notes that some texts witness to belief in rewards and punishment immediately after death, others witness to belief in resurrection at the end of time, and sometimes both ideas occur together in the same text. He correctly notes the diversity of Second Temple Jewish ideas, though of course he cannot do justice to the topic in a short chapter.1

What is odd about Ehrman's description of these texts is that it contradicts his own central thesis that belief in a literal heaven and hell does 'not go back to the earliest stages of Christianity.' For instance, writing about 1 Enoch 22 (from the Book of the Watchers), Ehrman describes how 'the souls of those who have died are held until the Day of Judgment' in different hollows within a high mountain (p. 102). One hollow holds the righteous as they await the resurrection. A second 'holds the souls of sinners who did not receive their punishments on earth; these are being tormented in their temporary dwelling place in anticipation of the Day of Judgment, when they will be assigned to eternal torment.' This sounds a lot like later Christian ideas, as Ehrman acknowledges: 'In comparison with later texts such as the Christian Apocalypse of Peter, these destinies are rather vague and lacking in graphic specificity. But the basic ideas are here' (p. 103, emphasis mine). If Ehrman recognises that the Book of the Watchers—which predates Christianity by two centuries or more—contains the basic ideas of postmortem rewards and punishments and eternal torment that the terms 'heaven' and 'hell' convey, how can he maintain the thesis that these ideas do not 'go back to' earliest Christianity?2

The Historical Jesus 

As is fitting for a historical study, Ehrman is interested in the historical Jesus as opposed to the canonical Jesus. He reconstructs the beliefs of Jesus from that subset of Gospel sayings that, by standard critical methods, he considers to be historically reliable. For him, this largely entails using sayings from Mark and Matthew, and not from Luke and John. There are relatively few sayings that he discusses even from Mark and Matthew,3 but from those he does discuss, he paints the following picture:

Jesus did not teach that when a person died they would go to heaven or hell. He taught that the Day of Judgment was soon to come, when God would destroy all that is evil and raise the dead, to punish the wicked and reward the faithful by bringing them into his eternal, utopian kingdom. (p. 130)

Moreover,

a close reading of Jesus's words shows that in fact he had no idea of eternal torment for sinners after death. Death, for them, is irreversible, the end of the story. Their punishment is that they will be annihilated, never allowed to exist again, unlike the saved, who will live forever in God's glorious kingdom. (p. 132)

I will comment on three of Ehrman's key arguments. First, in Matthew 8:11-12 Jesus declares that

I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the heirs of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. (NRSV)

Ehrman observes that the passages says nothing about torment, and asks, 'What will happen to [those on the outside]?' His answer: 'Jesus doesn't say. Do they simply end up dying, and that is the end of their story?' (p. 131) This question and answer presuppose that being thrown into the outer darkness is a prelude to punishment and not the punishment itself. However, the passage in no way suggests this. A more natural reading is that being thrown into the outer darkness is the punishment. Note the antithetical parallelism: some are rewarded by being welcomed into the kingdom; others are punished by being thrown out of the kingdom, into another 'place' characterised by darkness and weeping.4 Ehrman emphasises that this passage makes no mention of eternal fire, but other Matthaean texts about the place of weeping and gnashing of teeth do make this connection.5

Second, Ehrman quotes several passages that use the Greek verb apollumi or noun apoleia (particularly Matt. 7:13-14 and 10:28) and infers from them the notion of 'annihilation,' reduction to non-existence. He translates Matthew 10:28b as, 'fear the one who can annihilate both the soul and body in Gehenna', adding, 'It is important to note that Jesus here does not merely say that God will 'kill' a person's soul: he will "annihilate" (or "exterminate") it. After that it will not exist' (p. 135). Now, in Ehrman's 2003 translation of the Apostolic Fathers,6 when the verb apollumi is used in the active voice of the ultimate fate of humans, he consistently translates it 'destroy.'7 Why now has Ehrman departed from his own precedents, and from the practice of most English translations and lexical authorities, by translating apollumi by 'annihilate' rather than 'destroy'? One searches in vain for a lexical argument, or even (since this is a popular-level book) a footnote referencing an argument he has made elsewhere. He simply asserts without argument that apollumi and apoleia convey the specific idea of annihilation, of reduction to non-existence, rather than the more general idea of destruction.8

Third, Ehrman discusses at some length the 'sheep and goats' saying of Matthew 25:31-46. He argues that the 'eternal punishment' spoken of there is simply death, since it is contrasted with 'eternal life.' As for 'eternal fire,' he reasons that 'it is the fire that is eternal, not the sinner in the fire. The fires never go out' (p. 140). Yet, in a footnote, he acknowledges that the text says the fire was prepared for the devil and demons 'who, since they cannot die, will indeed burn forever.' On what basis does he make this sharp distinction between the nature of 'eternal fire' punishment for humans vs. superhumans, when the text makes no such distinction?

Finally, it is worth noting that, despite generally finding Matthew to be a reliable source of historical Jesus sayings, Ehrman says nothing about the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (Matthew 18:23-35), which ends with the protagonist being 'handed...over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt' (NRSV), followed immediately by Jesus' warning, 'So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.' Thus, Jesus here appears to depict eschatological punishment in terms of torture of indefinite duration. A noteworthy omission, to say the least! For further commentary on eschatological punishment in the Synoptic Gospels, see here.

The Apostle Paul

I find little to disagree with in Ehrman's treatment of Paul. He offers a good overview of Paul's teaching on resurrection, and also rightly acknowledges Paul's belief in a disembodied intermediate state, as attested in 2 Corinthians 5:1-10 and Philippians 1:20-24. He thinks Paul understood the fate of the wicked to be annihilation, and there is little—at least in those letters of Paul that are universally accepted as authentic—that would suggest otherwise.9

The Later Gospels

Ehrman finds the view of the afterlife presented in the Gospel of Luke and the Book of Acts (widely assigned to the same author) to be strikingly different from that of Jesus himself. In particular, 'unlike the historical Jesus himself, Luke maintains that eternity begins immediately at a person's death. Like Paul, but even more emphatically, Luke thinks that when believers in Jesus die, they go straight to heaven' (p. 160). He bases this on such texts as Luke 23:43 and Acts 7:59, and I think his interpretation is sound.

Ehrman spends a couple of pages on the Parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man, which he considers to be 'the only place' in the Bible where the notion of eternal punishment for the wicked is suggested (p. 167). He does not think this story is attributable to the historical Jesus (I find his argument unconvincing),10 and he thinks the message of the parable is more about how people should live in the present than what will happen after death. I agree that this is the parable's emphasis, but I think it's a both/and, not an either/or. Outi Lehtipuu's monograph on the parable has shown convincingly that the story was believable within the parameters of its cultural world, and so there is no reason to think the afterlife imagery was not meant to be taken seriously.11 The clincher is the striking similarity between the afterlife imagery in this parable and that in Luke 13:27-30.12

Ehrman argues that the 'realised eschatology' of the Gospel of John, in which eternal life is already attainable in this life, and the wrath of God already abides on the disobedient in this life, represents a de-apocalypticising development of the message of the historical Jesus. I think this claim is basically accurate, though it is important to acknowledge—as Ehrman does—that references to eschatological resurrection are still present.

Other Early Christian Literature

For the sake of brevity, I won't discuss Ehrman's treatment of the Book of Revelation or of early patristic literature. He maintains that Revelation teaches a heavenly intermediate state only for a few martyrs, and teaches the annihilation of the wicked; I think he has overlooked the important evidence of Revelation 22:15.13

Ehrman spends his final three chapters on early patristic literature, and the various theological ideas that emerged concerning the nature of resurrection (resurrection of the flesh vs. of the spirit), the possibility of purgatory, universal salvation, etc. Attempts to systematise what would become established as orthodox Christian eschatology can be found in Tertullian in the early third century and in Augustine two centuries later. The fundamental teaching here is of immediate postmortem rewards and punishments, followed eventually by the resurrection, which ushers in embodied eternal life for some and eternal torment for others. After describing what became the orthodox view, Ehrman states, 'Some observers might consider the views to be a kind of natural development of what the "founders of Christianity" thought, or even as inevitable' (p. 201). He then insists that they were not inevitable, since other competing views existed that did not finally carry the day. However, he does not address the question of whether the orthodox view is a natural development from ideas of Jesus, Paul, and the rest of the New Testament writers. This is the Catholic Church's claim (made most famously by Cardinal Newman in his Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine): that the systematisation of doctrine in the patristic era is but the natural growth and development of the seeds contained in divine revelation.

Ehrman's Theological Message

In the preface, Ehrman insists that he has no theological axe to grind: 'In this book I will not be urging you either to believe or to disbelieve in the existence of heaven and hell' (p. 14). However, he still arrives at the existential inference that 'even if we do have something to hope for after we have passed from the realm of temporary consciousness, we have absolutely nothing to fear' (p. 18). He elaborates in the afterword at the end: we may have something to hope for because a beatific afterlife is at least possible (though he is inclined to think death is the end of existence). We have absolutely nothing to fear because hell can be ruled out on rational grounds; eternal torment would imply that God is 'some kind of transcendent sadist' (p. 235). It would be disproportionate to subject people to 'indescribable torments, not for the length of time they committed their "offenses," but for trillions of years—and that only as the beginning'.

I would make three brief points in reply to Ehrman's rationalistic critique of the doctrine of hell. First, as with transcendent rewards, no one alive knows exactly what transcendent punishment will be like. The biblical language of light, gardens, food and drink, banqueting, peace, life is all analogical, as is that of darkness, fire, banishment, torment, destruction, death. All such language is attempting to describe, 'in a glass, darkly,' the unknown quantities beyond our world in terms of the known quantities within our world. Without knowing exactly what eschatological punishment might be like, we are not well positioned to rule on whether it is just or disproportionate. Second, our lack of knowledge extends not only to the nature of the punishment but to its duration. The expression 'trillions of years' assumes that, for those in the transcendent realms, time passes and is experienced just as now on earth. Why should that be true? Heaven and hell are not material objects making trips around the sun. Many philosophers regard eternity as somehow beyond time rather than simply an unending, linear interval of time. Third, I have always found it curious that people simply assume that annihilation is a merciful and moderate alternative to eternal punishment. Ehrman describes annihilation in almost pleasant terms, like a very deep sleep. Non-existence is in some ways a more horrifying prospect than unending punishment. Besides, if annihilation is the eschatological equivalent of capital punishment, then hell is the eschatological equivalent of life imprisonment without parole. In the human domain, which of those is considered the more severe penalty? To be sure, hell is not a pleasant idea. Those who affirm this doctrine do so with sorrow but with firmness because they have received it from the Church, which (they maintain) received it from the apostles, who (they maintain) received it from the Lord.

Pros and Cons

As stated in the beginning, one great pro of Ehrman's book is that he succeeds in telling the history of ideas about the afterlife in a way that is concise and accessible yet informative and engaging. A second major positive, specifically for a Christian audience, is that he has called out the modern Church for having lost sight of the resurrection and placed all the emphasis on what is really only the interim state: going to heaven after death. For instance, Ehrman quotes from Justin Martyr (died c. 165 C.E.), who wrote that those should not be considered real Christians who assert 'that there is no resurrection of the dead, but that their souls are taken up to heaven at the moment of their death' (Dialogue with Trypho 80.4).14 Ehrman 'wonders how many twenty-first century Christians would escape this charge' (p. 197). Hopefully, those who recite the Creed thoughtfully do escape it, since they 'look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.' However, how many either conflate resurrection with what happens to the soul at death, or are ignorant of resurrection altogether? Ehrman's critique is a welcome and much-needed one.

The cons, for me, lie in questionable exegesis at certain points (particularly the Matthaean texts about eschatological punishment), as well as a tendency to overstate the significance of differences between Jesus and the New Testament writers, among the New Testament writers, and between the New Testament writers and subsequent proto-orthodox theologians. Yes, there is diversity, but it follows a natural developmental trajectory that converges on orthodoxy.

• 1 For my own discussion of eschatological punishment in the Hebrew Bible and other Second Temple Jewish literature, focusing mainly on 1 Enoch and 4 Ezra, see Part 1 of my review of Edward Fudge's book, The Fire That Consumes.
• 2 Perhaps Ehrman would justify his thesis by noting that 1 Enoch's geography of the afterlife—various hollows in the same high mountain—is very different from the cosmic picture of heaven above and hell beneath that later emerged in Christianity. However, the fundamental issue is not the precise 'where' of transcendent abodes, but the 'that' of righteous and wicked going to separate abodes after death.
• 3 Those he does discuss are Matt. 3:10; 5:22, 29-30; 7:13-14; 8:10-12; 13:36-43, 47-50; 25:31-46; Mark 9:42, 47-48; 12:18-27
• 4 No noun meaning 'place' occurs in the Greek, but the adverb ekei ('there'; 'in that place') implies a specific location.
• 5 The formula, 'In that place (ekei) there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth' occurs in Matthew six times. In three of them, the place is called 'the outer darkness,' in one, 'with the hypocrites,' and in two, 'the fiery furnace' (Matt. 13:42, 50). The fiery furnace, for Matthew, is obviously synonymous 'fiery Gehenna' (5:22; 18:9), which in turn is synonymous with 'the eternal fire' (18:8; 25:41).
• 6 Bart D. Ehrman, ed. and trans., The Apostolic Fathers, 2 vols. (Loeb Classical Library; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2003).
• 7 e.g., in 1 Clement 57.7,  Barnabas 12.5; 20.2, Hermas, Mandates 2.1, 12.6.3, Similitudes 8.6.6, 8.8.5, 9.23.4, 9.26.3.
• 8 I have not myself undertaken a close lexical study of apollumi. However, it appears that when used in the active voice, it can take meanings akin to 'lose,' 'kill,' 'destroy,' 'ruin.' It certainly does not intrinsically convey the cessation of all existence, just as 'destroy' does not in English. For instance, if we say that Hiroshima was destroyed by the atomic bomb in 1945, we are not suggesting that Hiroshima ceased to exist, but that it was devastated, ruined.
• 9 Ehrman considers only those letters that are universally accepted as authentically Pauline, so we do not get to hear his views on 2 Thessalonians 1:6-10, which is the most detailed passage about eschatological punishment in the Pauline corpus. For my own brief discussion of Paul's views, see here.
• 10 Ehrman thinks that the ending of the story is a 'dead giveaway' that it was not told by Jesus (p. 165). He reasons that Abraham telling the rich man that his brothers would not believe even if someone were raised from the dead alludes to Jesus' own resurrection, and thus postdates it. However, this argument only demonstrates that the ending of the story has been edited or shaped in light of Jesus' resurrection. It is possible that the original story ended with v. 26, or that the whole story dates back to Jesus but that the language of 'rising from the dead' in v. 31 reflects post-Easter editing.
• 11 Outi Lehtipuu, The Afterlife Imagery in Luke’s Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Leiden: Brill, 2007). I have discussed the matter previously here and here.
• 12 The afterlife scene in the parable has the rich man in a place of torment where he can see Abraham attending a banquet. That Lazarus was 'in Abraham's bosom' refers to reclining with his head on Abraham's breast, 'a position dictated by ancient banqueting practice' (BDAG 556-57). In Luke 13:27-30, a place is described (using the adverb ekei) of weeping and gnashing of teeth, from which people will see Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of God, where they will 'recline at table.'
• 13 For my take on eschatological punishment in Revelation, see here, in Part 2 of my review of Edward W. Fudge's book, The Fire That Consumes.
• 14 For my comments on this text and Justin's individual eschatology more widely, see here and here.

Rules of Engagement for Online Theological Discussions

Most people who engage in online theological discussions do so because they are passionate about theology, believing the issues they discuss to be of eternal significance. Theological commitments are deep-rooted and emotions run high when they are challenged. Over nearly two decades of observing and participating in online theological discussions, I've found that they very often become rancorous. Such discussions reflect badly on the Christian religion and are of little edifying value. However, I have seen instances where people who passionately disagree in their theology are able to do so with civility and goodwill, serving the cause of unity and peace even when disagreements are not resolved.1

I confess that I personally have often fallen short of the mark in the way I've conducted myself in online theological discussions. With a view to personal growth and more productive and edifying discussions, I've come up with twelve rules of engagement. (I've written these rules myself but did take some ideas from other sets of rules I found on the web.2) First and foremost, they represent a standard to which I commit myself going forward. However, I also call on potential dialogue partners to commit to the same standard when entering into an online theological discussion with me, whether on this blog, on Facebook, or in a web discussion forum.

Here goes:

1. Jesus and the apostles passed dogmatic judgments on the character and eternal destiny of their opponents. In the context of online discussions, I relinquish any claim to the moral authority that enabled them to do so. Rather, I will always assume my interlocutor's honesty, sincerity, intelligence and general virtue, and will refrain from accusations and insinuations targeting the character or motives of my interlocutor, or the moral quality of his or her actions and words.


I will avoid the condescending practice of accusing my interlocutor of committing a logical fallacy, unless I am certain there is no other way to express why I find his or her argument unconvincing.


I will avoid having a discussion about the discussion, remaining focused on the issue at hand as far as possible.


I will avoid introducing unrelated topics or reintroducing past topics of discussion that distract from the issue at hand.


I will take care to accurately represent my interlocutor's viewpoint, and avoid careless extrapolations and generalizations thereof.


I will seek common ground and try to build relationship with my interlocutor.


I will not be hyper-critical but will be quick to acknowledge goodness in my interlocutor's position and merit in his or her argument. In the same vein, I will be self-critical by readily acknowledging weaknesses and limitations in my own position and argument.


I will avoid straightforward identification of my opinions with truth and my interlocutor's with falsehood. I will instead use the qualified language of academic discourse. Contrast "Your interpretation is obviously wrong" with, "I don't find that interpretation convincing."


I will freely make use of humour and wit that is neutral or, better yet, self-deprecating. I will, however, refrain from anything that could be construed as mocking or insulting my interlocutor, his viewpoint, or his ecclesiastical tradition. This would include words, memes, emoji's, etc. that are sarcastic, satirical, derogatory or vulgar.


I will seek to exemplify the virtues of humility, charity and respect throughout the discussion.


I will make unity and truth the goals of the discussion and will subordinate my own interests and desire for vindication to these ends.


These rules are to be self-policed. Accordingly, I will not cite them in order to accuse my interlocutor of hypocrisy (see rule 1).

That's it! Note: I reserve the right to edit or add to these rules at a later stage.

Footnotes

• 1 A good example of this is the Catholic-Reformed dialogue at Called to Communion
• 2 See, for example: 7 Rules for Online Engagement; The Rules of Engagement: The Lost Art of Debate; The Core Rules of Netiquette; Commenting Guidelines at Memory, Meaning & Faith blog; Posting Guidelines at Called to Communion

Supernatural Evil in the Apostolic Fathers (6): The Epistle of Barnabas

The Epistle of Barnabas (henceforth Barnabas) is an early Christian text generally dated to the 130s A.D., around the time of the Bar Kokhba revolt.1 Although traditionally ascribed to 'Barnabas', the document itself does not claim to have been written by Barnabas and never mentions Barnabas. There is near-universal agreement that the author was not Paul's companion of that name mentioned in the New Testament. The author and work will be referred to as Barnabas for sake of convenience.

This document is perhaps best known for its idiosyncratic answer to the question of why Christians are not bound to literal observance of the statutes of the Torah. In contrast to Paul, who had argued that literal Torah observance played a preparatory role in anticipation of Christ, Barnabas (who does not seem to be familiar with Paul's writings) holds that the Torah is eternally valid but was never meant to be followed literally.2 Moreover, he claims that God abrogated the Sinai covenant due to the golden calf incident and appears to hold out no enduring privileges for the Jewish people.3 These positions are unique among patristic writings.4 However, that Barnabas was regarded as generally theologically sound and valuable is evident from its inclusion after Revelation in Codex Sinaiticus, the earliest surviving complete New Testament manuscript.5

Paget stresses the writer’s use of Jewish exegetical methods6 and even allows the possibility that the writer was Jewish,7 although Skarsaune thinks his knowledge of rabbinic haggadah is only second-hand and that he was certainly Gentile.8 His antagonism toward Jews and Judaism should be understand in the context of fierce religious competition between the Church and Synagogue, and the probability that the former was losing proselytes to the latter.9 Horbury concludes that compared to Justin Martyr's writings, this document is 'more strongly Jewish as well as anti-Jewish.'10 It seems probable that he knew the Gospel of Matthew but otherwise shows no dependence on writings from what would become the New Testament.11

Barnabas is an important witness to the early Christian understanding of supernatural evil. Satan plays a prominent role in his theology, and he also refers to demons and bad angels.

Satanological Terminology in Barnabas

Barnabas uses a number of different terms to refer to Satan. Some are known from earlier Christian tradition. ho satanas (Satan; Barn. 18.1) is, with ho diabolos, the most widely used Satanological term in the New Testament.12 ho ponēros (the evil one;13; Barn. 2.10; 21.314) also occurs frequently in the New Testament as a designation for Satan.15 Barnabas' notion of Satan as a ruler is also commonplace in the New Testament.16 He refers to Satan as ho ponēros archōn (the evil ruler; Barn. 4.13) and as ho archōn kairou tou nun tēs anomias (the ruler over the present age of lawlessness; Barn. 18.2).

Other Satanological terms are used by Barnabas which do not occur in the New Testament. These include ho energōn (literally 'the one who is at work', Barn. 2.1), ho melas (the black one, Barn. 4.10; 20.1), and ho anomos (the lawless one, Barn. 15.5).

tou energountos (in lexical form, ho energōn) is a participial form of energeō. This verb is frequently used to refer to 'divine or supernatural action'17 in patristic literature. Gokey states that the use of energeō and its corresponding noun energeia 'for superhuman evil powers is common to the pagan, Jewish and Christian Hellenistic world.'18 On NT usage specifically, Gokey states that energeō, when used in the active voice, has a superhuman personal subject in all but one instance.19 As for the noun cognate, 'In the NT energeia only appears in Paul, where it always refers to the mystic supernatural power of divine or evil origin.'20 Forms of energeō or energeia are linked to Satan by Paul in Eph. 2:2 and 2 Thess. 2:9, and also by Justin Martyr in Dialogue with Trypho 69.1.21

One major lexical authority appears to take ho energōn in Barn 2.1 to refer to God.22 However, it is more likely that it refers to Satan,23 given the emphasis on 'evil days' just prior. Ehrman translates Barn. 2.1a, 'Since, then, the days are evil and the one who is at work holds sway.'24 Gokey renders ho energōn as 'the Agent'.25

The reference to ho energōn having exousia (power or dominion) in Barn. 2.1 parallels several New Testament texts which explicitly or implicitly attribute exousia to Satan.26

As for ho melas, Barnabas seems to be the first Christian writer to associate this term with Satan. What is the source of the imagery of Satan as 'the black one'? Based on the likelihood that Barnabas was written in Alexandria, where black-skinned Ethiopians would have been present, Byron argues that the use of this term for Satan 'as a trope within the ethno-political rhetorics about vices and sins.'27 However, Byron acknowledges that Barnabas never refers to 'blacks' as an ethnic group, and so his reconstruction of the background of ho melas is pure conjecture. Peerbolte is more likely correct that 'The use of melas for Satan originates in its use as a synonym of ponēros.'28 Hermas uses melas as a symbol of vice repeatedly in his Similitudes, with no hint of an ethnic connotation.29 Moreover, it is surely noteworthy that in Barn. 20.1, 'the path of the Black One' (tou melanos hodos)30 is explicitly contrasted, not with the colour white but with 'the path of light' (hodos tou phōtos) in Barn. 19.1, 12. The use of light/darkness imagery to draw a dualistic contrast is, of course, common in the New Testament, especially in the writings of John and Paul.31

Finally, tou anomou (in lexical form, ho anomos) in Barn. 15.5 could conceivably mean 'the lawless one' generically (as in Ezek. 18:24 LXX), or 'the lawless one' par excellence, i.e. Satan or the Antichrist. The expression ho anomos is used by Paul in 2 Thess. 2:8 of the Antichrist, whom Paul distinguishes from Satan but explicitly links with his activity.32 That Barnabas' tou anomou refers to Satan is probable for two reasons: firstly, generic wicked humans are referred to in the next phrase in the plural (krinei tous asebeis), making it unlikely that they are also referred to in the singular with a generic use of the article. Secondly, Satan is explicitly linked to 'the present age of lawlessness' in Barn. 18.2 as its ruler. The phrase 'age of lawlessness' or 'age of the lawless one' closely parallels the 'age of the lawlessness of Israel' (en kairō tēs anomias) mentioned in Testament of Dan 6.633 (a passage which also mentions 'Satan and his spirits'), suggesting some correspondence of thought.

Two main conclusions can be drawn from Barnabas' Satanological terminology. Firstly, while in certain respects his phraseology is unique (e.g. ho melas), broadly speaking his language and ideas about Satan closely parallel what we find in the New Testament. Secondly, it is clear that Barnabas regarded Satan as a supernatural, personal being. Further confirmation of this is seen in Barnabas' Two Ways material in Barn. 18.1-2, where he describes Satan as having angels who are set over against the angels of God.34

Other supernatural evil beings in Barnabas

Besides Satan, Barnabas knows of other supernatural evil beings. These include the angels of Satan just mentioned, as well as an evil angel (angelos ponēros) who, according to Barnabas, misled the Jews into practicing physical circumcision instead of spiritual (Barn. 9.4).35 Barnabas may be dependent upon the reference to angelōn ponērōn in Ps. 78(77):49 LXX for his terminology here.

Barnabas makes one mention of demons in the context of an argument spiritualising the Temple:

And so I conclude that a temple exists. But learn how it will be built in the name of the Lord. Before we believed in God, the dwelling place of our heart was corrupt and feeble, since it really was a temple build by hand; for it was full of idolatry and was a house of demons, because we did everything that was opposed to God. (Barn. 16.7)36

Gokey notes the 'strong affinities' between this passage and the Synoptic parable of the unclean spirit which goes out of a man and returns later to the 'house' with 'seven other spirits more evil than himself' (Matt. 12:45; Luke 11:24-26).37 By internalizing the temple of God within the heart, Barnabas' thought also closely parallels Paul's doctrine of the body as the temple of the Holy Spirit.38 Wahlen states, 'The thought seems to be that demons, which rule the Jews as truly as they rule the Gentile nations, are expelled from the heart of the forgiven believer.'39 This contrasts with Kelly, who states that here 'there is no real indication that baptism has an exorcistic meaning.'40 Along the same lines, Russell thinks the idea expressed here is that of temptation from without, not demon-possession.41 Whatever the case, it is apparent that Barnabas believed in the real existence of demons.

Concluding observations

Two other observations will help illustrate how Barnabas uses language pertaining to supernatural evil. Firstly, despite his clear belief in supernatural evil beings, Barnabas also regards evil as having an anthropological dimension. He refers to 'the purification of our hearts' (8:3), to 'the one who is sick in the flesh' who is 'healed by the foul juice of the hyssop' (8:6). He writes of those who 'are reputed to perform a lawless deed in their mouth because of their uncleanness' (10:8), to those who 'received his words according to the desires of their own flesh' (10:9), to those 'full of sins and filth' (11:11), to those 'completely filled with sins' and 'hearts that were already paid out to death and given over to the lawlessness of deceit' (14:5). Moreover, Barnabas' main teaching on how to overcome Satan is not magical but ethical. This is evident from the extended ethical instruction which follows the pronouncement that Satan is set over the path of darkness (Barn. 19.1-12; 21.1-9).

Secondly, Barnabas offers no attempt to explain or justify his ideas about Satan, bad angels, and demons. He simply offers a series of passing allusions to these concepts. Evidently, these ideas are part of the Christian worldview which he can assume his audience shares with him, not a controversial claim for which he needs to make an argument. This suggests that Barnabas' beliefs about Satan and demons are not innovative but taken over from earlier Christian tradition. Further corroboration of this conclusion is found in the close conceptual and terminological parallel between Barnabas' beliefs and those in the New Testament, despite little evidence for Barnabas' direct dependence on New Testament writings.

Footnotes

• 1 Paget, J.C. (2006). The Epistle of Barnabas. The Expository Times, 117(11), 441-446. Here p. 443.
• 2 Skarsaune, O. (2002). In the shadow of the temple: Jewish influences on early Christianity. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, p. 218.
• 3Horbury, W. (1992). Jewish-Christian Relations in Barnabas and Justin Martyr. In J.D.G. Dunn (Ed.), Jews and Christians: The Parting of the Ways, A.D. 70 to 135 (pp. 315-345). Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, pp. 327-328.
• 4Hvalvik, R. (1996). The Struggle for Scripture and Covenant: The Purpose of the Epistle of Barnabas and Jewish-Christian Competition in the Second Century. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, p. 331.
• 5 Note: the Shepherd of Hermas is also included in this manuscript after the Epistle of Barnabas.
• 6 'It has long been noted by scholars that Barnabas consists of material of a strongly Jewish character.' (Paget, J. C. (1996). Paul and the Epistle of Barnabas. Novum Testamentum, 38(4), 359-381. Here p. 377.)
• 7 Paget, 2006, op. cit., p. 442.
• 8 Skarsaune, op. cit., p. 220.
• 9 Hvalvik, op. cit., pp. 324-326; Evans, C.A. (2000). Root Causes of the Jewish-Christian Rift from Jesus to Justin. In S.E. Porter & B.W.R. Pearson (Eds.), Christian-Jewish Relations through the Centuries (pp. 20-35). Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, p. 22.
• 10 Horbury, op. cit., p. 332.
• 11 Hvalvik, op. cit., pp. 32-34.
• 12 36 occurrences: Matt. 4:10, 12:26 (twice), 16:23; Mark 1:13, 3:23 (twice), 3:26, 4:15, 8:33; Luke 10:18, 11:18, 13:16, 22:3, 22:31; John 13:27; Acts 5:3, 26:18; Rom. 16:20; 1 Cor. 5:5, 7:5; 2 Cor. 2:11, 11:14, 12:7; 1 Thess. 2:18; 2 Thess. 2:9; 1 Tim. 1:20; 5:15; Rev. 2:9, 2:13 (twice), 2:24, 3:9, 12:9, 20:2, 20:7.
• 13 Byron suggests that ho ponēros here 'could refer to the devil, or more specifically to the Roman emperor Trajan' (Byron, G.L. (2002). Symbolic blackness and ethnic difference in early Christian literature. New York: Routledge, p. 64). In support of the latter proposal, he notes that Trajan is referred to as the 'evil one' in the Jerusalem Talmud, Sukkah 5.1, 55B: 'In the time of Trogianos, the evil one (טרוגיינוס הרשע), a son was born to him on the ninth of Av...' (ibid., p. 155 n. 68). He is dependent on Modrzejewski, J. (1997). The Jews of Egypt: from Rameses II to Emperor Hadrian. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 209 (see also, e.g. Neusner, J. (Ed.). (1988). The Talmud of the Land of Israel (Vol. 17). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, p. 118; Saldarini, A.J. (1975). The Fathers according to Rabbi Nathan. Leiden: Brill. 68; Goldberg, D. (1970). The Leaven of Judaism. Woodbridge: Twayne, p. 164.) In fact, not only Trajan but also Titus is referred to in Jewish literature as 'the evil one' (the latter for entering the Holy of Holies). However, two observations reduce the significance of this parallel with the satanic designation ho ponēros. In the first place, when applied to Trajan or Titus, 'the evil one' accompanies the emperor’s personal name: it is 'Trajan the evil one' or 'Titus the evil one'. 'The evil one' does not function as a stand-alone designation for either emperor. Secondly, הרשע need not even function as a substantive in these texts; one could also translate it as an attribute adjective: 'the evil Titus' or 'Trajan the Wicked' (Modrzejewski, op. cit., p. 207; Neusner, op. cit., p. 118; Dershowitz, N. & Reingold, E.M. (2008). Calendrical Calculations. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, p. 101; Alon, G. (1980). The Jews in their Land in the Talmudic Age. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, p. 383; Attias, J.-C. (2014). The Jews and the Bible. Redwood City: Stanford University Press, p. 38; Feldman, L.H. (1996). Studies in Hellenistic Judaism. Leiden: Brill, pp. 3-4; Holder, M. (1986). History of the Jewish People: From Yavneh to Pumbedisa. Brooklyn: Mesorah Publications, p. 29; Finkel, A.Y. (trans.) (1999). Ein Yaakov: The Ethical and Inspirational Teachings of the Talmud. New York: Aronson, p. 425; Zinberg, I. (1977). A History of Jewish Literature. New York: KTAV Publishing, p. 31.). In view of this, it is unlikely that the substantive ho ponēros in Barnabas or any other early Christian text refers to the Roman emperor. It is rather a designation for Satan.
• 14 The gender of tō ponērō in Barn. 21.3 is ambiguous so this could refer to 'the evil one' or 'evil' abstractly. Only in Barn. 2.10 do we have unambiguous masculine usage. Holmes mistranslates to ponēron in Barn. 19.11 as 'the evil one' (Holmes, M.W. (2007) The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, p. 437.). This expression is neuter and so can only refer to evil abstractly (Ehrman, B.D. (2003). The Apostolic Fathers, Vol. 2. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, p. 79.)
• 15 Certainly in Matt. 13:19; 1 John 2:13, 2:14, 5:18; probably in Matt. 5:37, 6:13, 13:38; Eph. 6:16; 2 Thess. 3:3; 1 John 3:12, 5:19; possibly in Matt. 5:39.
• 16 For the term, see Matt. 12:24-29; Mark 3:22-27; Luke 11:15-21; John 12.31, 14:30, 16:11; Eph. 2:2; for the concept, see Luke 4:5; Acts 26:18; 2 Cor. 4:4; 1 John 5:19.
• 17 Lampe, G.W.H. (1961). A Patristic Greek Lexicon, Vol. 1. Oxford: Oxford University Press, p. 473.
• 18 Gokey, F.X. (1961). The Terminology for the Devil and Evil Spirits in the Apostolic Fathers. Washington: The Catholic University of America Press, p. 104 n. 1.
• 19 Ibid.
• 20 Ibid., p. 103 n. 1.
• 21 For other early Christian texts where these words are used of demonic activity, see Lampe, op. cit., pp. 472-473.
• 22 Arndt, W., Danker, F.W. & Bauer, W. (2000). A Greek-English lexicon of the New Testament and other early Christian literature, 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, p. 335.
• 23 So Gokey, op. cit., p. 99; Ehrman, op. cit., p. 15 n. 1; Prostmeier, F.P. (1999). Der Barnabasbrief. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, p. 182.
• 24 Ehrman, op. cit., p. 15. Holmes, op. cit., p. 383 offers an identical translation of ho energōn.
• 25 Gokey, op. cit., p. 99.
• 26 Luke 4:6; 10:19; 22:53; Acts 26:18; Eph. 2:2; Col. 1:13.
• 27 Byron, op. cit., p. 65.
• 28 Peerbolte, L.J.L. (1996). The Antecedents of Antichrist: A Traditio-Historical Study of the Earliest Christian Views on Eschatological Opponents. Leiden: Brill, p. 191.
• 29 Hermas, Similitudes 9.1.5; 9.6.4; 9.8.1ff; 9.9.5; 9.13.8; 9.15.1, 3; 9.19.1; so Arndt et al, op. cit., p. 626.
• 30 Since the gender of tou melanos is ambiguous, it is possible to render this as 'the path of blackness', which may make more sense given that the antithesis is impersonal ('light') (cf. 'the path of darkness' in Barn. 18.1). However, in Barn. 4.10 ho melas is unambiguously masculine and so refers to a personal being.
• 31 e.g. John 3:19; 12:35; Acts 26:18; 2 Cor. 6:14; 1 Thess. 5:5.
• 32 It is not clear whether Barnabas' theology includes an eschatological Antichrist figure and, if so, whether this individual is distinct from Satan himself, as in 2 Thessalonians, or is Satan himself, as in the Ascension of Isaiah.
• 33 Arndt et al, op. cit., p. 86.
• 34 For New Testament parallels to the idea of Satan having angels, see Matt. 25:41; 2 Cor. 12:7; Rev. 12:7-9.
• 35 Paget takes this evil angel to be the devil himself (Paget, J.C. (1994). The Epistle of Barnabas: Outlook and Background. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, p. 183). However, Russell more plausibly takes it to be an unspecified evil angel since it lacks the article (Russell, J.B. (1981/1987). Satan: The Early Christian Tradition. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, p. 39 n. 23).
• 36 Ehrman, op. cit., p. 73, trans.
• 37 Gokey, op. cit., p. 108 n. 5.
• 38 Ibid.
• 39 Wahlen, C. (2004). Jesus and the Impurity of Spirits in the Synoptic Gospels. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, p. 63.
• 40 Kelly, H.A. (1985/2004). The Devil at Baptism: Ritual, Theology, and Drama. Eugene: Wipf & Stock, p. 52.
• 41 Russell, op. cit., p. 40.

The Phanerosis doctrine of Dr. John Thomas: a short critique

One of the last writings of Dr. John Thomas, founder of the Christadelphians, was a booklet called Phanerosis. Published in 1869, two years before his death, it represented a mature expression of his theology, and in the typical style of the day, a lengthy subtitle declared it to be

An Exposition of the Doctrine of the Old and New testaments, concerning the Manifestation of the Invisible Eternal God in Human Nature, being alike subversive of Jewish Rabbinical Tradition, and the Theology of Romish and Protestant Sectarianism.

Now, the title of the work is a Greek word which occurs in the New Testament. The noun φανέρωσις (phanerōsis) occurs twice and the verb φανερόω (phaneroō) occurs 49 times.¹

Why did Dr. Thomas choose to title his work with a Greek word rather than an English word (a tactic also used in his other works such as Elpis Israel and Anastasis)? As he noted in the preface,

This is a Greek word in an English dress, and may be found in the lexicons in this form, φανέρωσις; and occurring in the phrase ή φανερωσις της αληθειας, 'the manifestation of the truth.'²

This does not reveal the rationale for the title. However, it should probably be understood as a claim that this word, as used in Scripture, constitutes a technical term for the theological concept of God-manifestation as he understood it. As will be seen below, Dr. Thomas coined the adjective 'phanerosial' to describe his doctrine.

What does the Christadelphian doctrine of God manifestation entail? It is best to explain it in Dr. Thomas' own words using excerpts from Phanerosis:

We affirm, then, that the Mosaic and prophetic revelation concerning Deity is that there is One Power, multitudinously manifested; and that these manifestations constitute ‘GOD.’... Our proposition then, is, that Moses and the Prophets teach, that there were One Primary Creating Power and a multitude of Secondary Powers, as intimately connected with and dependent on the First, as ten or a hundred are upon number one; and that this multiplication of the One Power in the relation of Father, Sons, and Holy Spirit, was in existence before the Mosaic Creation. ³

As we have seen, Moses and the prophets teach ONE self-existent, supreme fountain of Power, AIL, who is Spirit, and self-named I SHALL BE, of Yahweh: that this ONE YAHWEH-SPIRIT POWER is ‘God’ in the highest sense and constitutes the ‘Godhead,’ or FATHER IN HEAVEN; that He is the Springhead of many streams, or rivers of spirit, which assume ORGANIC FORMS, according to the will of the Yahweh-Spirit Power, and that when formed after the model, archetype, or pattern, presented in HIS OWN HYPOSTASIS, or Substance, they become SPIRIT-ELOHIM, or sons of God; and are Spirit, because ‘born of the Spirit’ – Emanations of the formative Spirit being ex autou out of him. The Spirit-Elohim was also ‘God;’ nevertheless they are created. They are formed and made out of and by that which is uncreated. They are Spirit-Forms, the substance of which (spirit) is eternal; while the forms are from a beginning. Each one is a God in the sense of partaking of THE DIVINE NATURE, and being therefore a Son of God.⁴

Paul and Moses agree in this, as we have shown before, saying, ‘There be that are called Gods, whether in heaven or in earth, as there be Gods many and Lords many.’ There is consequently no room for dispute on this point. Paul affirms the plurality of Gods, and Moses shows that they existed before the creation of man.⁵

There are not three Gods in the Godhead, nor are there but three in manifestation; nevertheless, the Father is God, and Jesus is God; and we may add, so are all the brethren of Jesus gods; and ‘a multitude which no man can number.’ The Godhead is the homogeneous fountain of the Deity; these other gods are the many streams from which this fountain flow. The springhead of Deity is one, not many; the streams as numerous as the orbs of the universe, in which a manifestation of Deity may have hitherto occurred.⁶

Strictly speaking, based on the way he uses the word 'Gods', Dr. Thomas' doctrine is open to the charge of polytheism, which is defined as "belief in many gods". Although this is mitigated by the affirmation that there is only one supreme, self-existent fountain of Power, this too is consistent with polytheism in which "The numerous gods may be dominated by a supreme god."⁷

Moreover, based on the way he uses the word 'God', Dr. Thomas' doctrine is open to the charge of something akin to pantheism, inasmuch as 'God' seems to be understood in less than personal terms, analogous to a kind of energy or matter.

It is beyond the scope of this short blog post to examine in detail Dr. Thomas' biblical arguments for his position. However it will be worthwhile to look briefly at two lines of argument; one from the Old Testament, and one from the New.

The sh^ema‘ (Deuteronomy 6:4) has long been considered the bedrock of Jewish monotheism. However, according to Dr. Thomas, the main idea conveyed by this passage is not simple monotheism but multitudinous God-manifestation. He states that "in plain English", the proclamation translates as, "Hear, O Israel! I WILL BE our MIGHTIES is One I will be!"⁸ This English strikes the reader as anything but plain. Beyond the stylistic concerns, however, this translation is at odds with nearly all interpretations of this passage in history, both Jewish and Christian, as is Dr. Thomas' claim that "The Shema proclaims a plurality of Elohim".⁹

In line with this interpretation, Dr. Thomas notes that there are 2470 [sic] occurrences of the plural 'elohim in the Old Testament. He refers to the work of the grammarian Gesenius who explained the great majority of these plural instances metaphorically to express the majesty or excellency of God. Disagreeing that this pecularity of grammar is to be explained stylistically, Dr. Thomas asserts that "The peculiarity is, to coin a word, phanerosial and doctrinal".¹⁰

This assertion was out of line with expert scholarship then, as it is now. Ringgren writes:

The form 'elohim occurs 2570 times in all, with both the plural ('gods') and the singular ('a god,' 'God') meaning. As a rule, verbs and adjectives used with 'elohim are either singular or plural in conformity with the meaning; there are only rare exceptions. Why the plural form for 'God' is used has not yet been explained satisfactorily. Perhaps the plural also or even originally designated not a plurality, but an intensification; then 'elohim would mean the 'great,' 'highest,' and finally 'only' God, i.e., God in general.¹¹

That the plural use of 'elohim is intended to convey the doctrine of God-manifestation, in the sh^ema‘ and in many other passages, can be definitely ruled out. In the first place, if the meaning of 'elohim is truly plural in order to convey the notion of God-manifestation, then how is one to explain the use of the plural 'elohim for singular false gods? In 2 Kings 1:2, Baal-Zebub is the god ('elohim) of Ekron. In 1 Kings 11:33 Ashtoreth is the goddess ('elohim) of the Sidonians, Chemosh is the god ('elohim) of the Moabites, and Molek is the god ('elohim) of the Ammonites (1 Kings 11:33). In 1 Samuel 28:13, the witch of Endor uses the word 'elohim to describe the singular figure she sees coming up out of the earth. It is inconceivable that in any of these cases the plural form conveys the doctrine of God-manifestation; thus the plural of 'elohim must be explained in another way, along the lines of Ringgren above.

Furthermore, if 'elohim truly carries a plural and doctrinally significant sense when used of Yahweh in Old Testament passages, why is 'elohim invariably translated into Greek with the singular θεός (theos) rather than the plural θεοί (theoi) when these passages are quoted in the New Testament? This includes the quotation of the sh^ema‘ by Jesus in Mark 12:29. Jesus evidently knew nothing of a multitudinous interpretation of this proclamation. (Remarkably, Dr. Thomas discusses this text in Phanerosis, but seems to have missed the significance of the singular θεός. He states that "not content with one Eternal Spirit named Yahweh, the rejector of Jesus contends for only one eloahh").¹²

With the principal Old Testament argument for his doctrine of God-manifestation seen to be flawed, let us turn to the New Testament. It is evident that one verse (1 Timothy 3:16) does much of the heavy lifting in the New Testament argument for Dr. Thomas' doctrine of God-manifestation. This verse is the only place in Scripture which explicitly says something approaching the subtitle of Phanerosis, namely, "the Manifestation of the Invisible Eternal God in Human Nature", inasmuch as it appears to use the verb phaneroō with God as its subject and 'flesh' as its object.

Dr. Thomas stresses the importance of this text as follows:

This mystery, which, as we see, was the burden of the apostolic preaching, was a great enigma – an enigma, dramatically, as well as doctrinally, explained. ‘Without controversy,’ says Paul, ‘great is the mystery of godliness – DEITY MANIFESTED IN FLESH, justified by spirit, made visible to messengers, preached among nations, believed on in the world, received again to glory.’ (1 Tim. iii. 16). It would be premature to go into the consideration of these six points of godliness. It is sufficient just now to bear in mind that they exist, and constitute integral parts of God-Manifestation as far as at present developed.¹³

A major problem with using this as a proof text for Dr. Thomas' doctrine of God-manifestation is that, in the opinion of most New Testament textual scholars, the correct reading of 1 Timothy 3:16b is not, "God (or Deity) was manifested in the flesh" (KJV), but "He was manifested in the flesh" or "He who was manifested in the flesh". The earliest and best manuscripts support the reading ὅς or ὅ rather than θεός. As Metzger explains,

no uncial (in the first hand) earlier than the eighth or ninth century supports theos; all ancient versions presuppose hos or ho; and no patristic writer prior to the last third of the fourth century testifies to the reading theos. The reading theos arose either (a) accidentally, through the misreading of ΟΣ as ΘΣ, or (b) deliberately, either to supply a substantive for the following six verbs, or, with less probability, to provide greater dogmatic precision.¹⁴

Nearly all modern translations follow the reading "He" or "He who" (NIV, NASB, NRSV, NET, ESV, etc.) Since the rest of the verse clearly refers to the life of Jesus Christ, it is best to take 'Jesus Christ' as the referent of the pronoun.

What this means, in short, is that 1 Timothy 3:16, the primary proof text for Dr. Thomas' doctrine of Phanerosis, actually says nothing about God being manifested in the flesh; it instead states that Christ was manifested in flesh. This is a statement of considerable Christological significance. As Lau explains,

the subject of the construction is clearly not God or any of his qualities or attributes, but Jesus Christ, who was revealed/appeared ἐν σαρκί, in a human body. Seen in the language of revelation this dative construction contains a profound christological implication... while ἐφανερώθη ἐν σαρκί is not a categorical assertion of Christ's pre-existence and his incarnational ministry and does not explicitly tell us of the mystery's hiddenness and subsequent revelation, the language and thought of line 1 echo that used elsewhere in the NT to depict how the Son of God had entered history, incarnated at a particular moment in time (cf. 'came into the world' - 1 Tim. 1.15; cf. 2.5-6); ἐφανερώθη ἐν σαρκί indeed can be understood in terms of the revelation and the execution of God's salvation-plan in the historical (incarnate) appearing of Christ on earth.¹⁵

Interestingly, if we look at the other uses of the verb phaneroō in the New Testament, we find that Christ (or an attribute of Christ) is the referent in the majority of cases: Mark 16:12, 14¹⁶; John 1:31; 2:11; 7:4; 21:1; 21:14; 2 Corinthians 4:10-11; Colossians 3:4; Hebrews 9:26; 1 Peter 1:20; 5:4; 1 John 2:28; 3:2, 5, 8. For instance, 1 John 3:8 tells us that "the Son of God appeared" (or was manifested).

Besides these, in one passage Jesus is said to manifest God's Name (John 17:6). In two other passages, God's attributes (but not God Himself) are said to be manifested through believers (2 Corinthians 2:14; 1 John 4:9). The noun phanerōsis is used both of the Spirit (1 Corinthians 12:7) and the truth (2 Corinthians 4:2). While the idea of God revealing Himself to the world, particularly through Christ, is of course present throughout the New Testament, the idea of Deity as "One Power, multitudinously manifested" is nowhere stated.

Phanerosis was a poor choice of title, since the various forms of this word are never used in Scripture to describe the doctrinal concept proposed in this booklet. We might excuse Dr. Thomas on the grounds that he did not have access to the text-critical resources which make it clear that the A.V. rendering of 1 Timothy 3:16 is incorrect. However, no such excuse exists in our day.

In conclusion, there is no reason to think that the word Phanerosis is a technical term for a particular biblical doctrine. However, the primary theological significance attached to this word in the New Testament is that God's Son, Jesus Christ, appeared in the flesh in human history to take away sins, manifested His divine glory through works of power and through the resurrection, and will appear again to bring life to those who believe in Him. As the one and only Son He made the invisible God visible. The true significance of Phanerosis is primarily Christological, unlike Dr. Thomas' doctrine of God manifestation which reduces Jesus Christ to one of a multitude of creature-gods.

---

1 There is also an adjective φανερός (phaneros, 18 times) and an adverb φανερῶς (phanerōs, 3 times).^↩
2 Thomas, J. (1869). Phanerosis: An Exposition of the Doctrine of the Old and New Testaments, Concerning the Manifestation of the Invisible Eternal God in Human Nature, Being Alike Subversive of Jewish Rabbinical Tradition and the Theology of Romish and Protestant Sectarianism. Birmingham: William H. Davis, p. ii.^↩
3 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 20.^↩
4 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 23.^↩
5 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 24.^↩
6 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 39.^↩
7 Merriam-Webster Concise Encyclopedia. (n.d.) Polytheism. Retrieved from http://www.merriam-webster.com/concise/polytheism^↩
8 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 29.^↩
9 Thomas,
Phanerosis, p. 31.^↩
10 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 17 (italics his).^↩
11 Ringgren, H. (1974). 'elohim. In G.J. Botterweck & H. Ringgren (Eds.), Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, Vol. 1. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, pp. 272-273.^↩
12 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 32.^↩
13 Thomas, Phanerosis, p. 13.^↩
14 Metzger, B.M. (2002). A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (2nd Ed.). Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, p. 574.^↩
15 Lau, A.Y. (1996). Manifest in Flesh: The Epiphany Christology of the Pastoral Epistles. Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, pp. 98-99.^↩
16 Note, however, that as part of the long ending of Mark's Gospel, the authenticity of these verses is suspect.^↩

The devil didn't make me do it: an appeal to Christadelphians

Over time, in discussions with Christadelphians, I have repeatedly encountered the accusation that Christians who affirm the existence of a personal devil do so in order to avoid taking responsibility for their sins. This idea needs to be addressed.

I recently listened to a talk delivered at the Orlando Christadelphian Gathering in March 2013 entitled, 'The Devil made me do it'. The speaker was one whom I grew up calling 'Uncle' and for whom I have the utmost respect. He framed the talk as a courtroom session in which the audience was invited to judge whether the defense 'The devil made me do it' has any validity. A foundational assumption of the case he presented was that professing Christians who believe in the devil's existence do hold the position that 'The devil made me do it' and thereby attempt to transfer blame for their actions to an outside entity.

A quick Google search reveals that the sentiments expressed by this speaker are widespread in the worldwide Christadelphian community. The Glasgow-Kelvin Christadelphian ecclesial website says this on its page about the devil:

You know the phrase, "The devil made me do it."  This is the popular view, that some kind of supernatural being or force for evil makes us do things that we would not normally contemplate.

A meditation on the Tidings magazine website states:

This problem of finding somebody upon whom to blame our problems must be the reason so many people want to believe in the devil — for then we can shift the blame by saying, “The devil made me do it.”

The widely distributed Christadelphian teaching manual Bible Basics describes belief in the devil as inventing "an imaginary person outside our human natures who is responsible for our sins". 

Referring specifically to the Jehovah's Witnesses' belief in the devil, Watkins writes,

"[The devil] relieves them of the great burden of guilt that they would otherwise have to carry. If they lose their devil a great load of sin comes down on their shoulders, for which they cannot escape the blame."¹

Another writer, not a Christadelphian but from a group called Christian Restoration Centre with similar beliefs, describes the devil in his thesis That Old Serpent called the Devil and Satan as "a convenient scapegoat to blame"².

In another booklet entitled The Devil and Satan Defined, a Christadelphian writer states:

Unfortunately, current ideas upon the subject are astray from the Bible. It is taught that the devil is a superhuman monster, a fallen angel, who dominates the minds of humanity, inducing mankind to sin. The teaching induces fear of the devil, and also provides an excuse for sin by blaming it on him.

Nearly a century earlier, Williams had made the same point in his book, The World's Redemption:

Such men as commit murder and other crimes of the grosser sort, either from delusion or dishonesty, shift the blame from themselves to an imaginary supernatural devil; and they are encouraged in this cowardice by the popular religious leaders.

Such quotations could be multiplied, but these suffice to show that the accusation described at the beginning is widespread in Christadelphia. Since the saying "The devil made me do it" seems to be regarded as epitomizing the attitude of mainstream Christians toward their transgressions, it will be useful to trace the background of this phrase. I'm no linguist or etymologist, so I'm limited to what I can find on the Internet. On Google Books, the only occurrence of this exact phrase prior to 1965 was in a poem entitled Ode to the Devil written in the late 1700s by the British satirist John Wolcott (who used the pen name Peter Pindar). The line was made famous, however, by American television comedian Flip Wilson in the 1970s. Through The Flip Wilson Show, "The devil made me do it" became a national catchphrase and "a mainstay within the American cultural psyche"³.

A Google web search for the exact phrase "the devil made me do it" yields hits falling into three main categories:

1) Popular culture references

2) Christian sermons, blogs and articles

3) News stories referring to criminals who used the phrase as an excuse for their crimes

The widespread use of this phrase in popular culture today testify to the lasting influence it has had since Flip Wilson popularized it forty years ago. That criminals and sociopaths (including a missionary who molested children) use this phrase with seeming regularity to explain their actions is disturbing. However, neither of these could be considered fair and reliable sources for mainstream Christian teaching on the subject. For this we need to turn to the second category of Google hits to see what Christian writers are saying.

When we do this, it becomes clear that when Christian writers uses the phrase, "The devil made me do it," they almost invariably do so in order to refute this notion as unbiblical, even as they affirm the real, personal existence of the devil.

After referring to the excuse, "The Devil made me do it" as a "mistake", Boa and Bowman note,

Ironically, many people twist the biblical teaching about the Devil's role in temptation into an excuse for sin. The Devil can tempt you, but the Devil cannot make you do anything. (Sorry, Flip Wilson!) Furthermore, ever since we fell from our original innocence, temptations generally appeal to our own selfish desires and attitudes. As James says, 'Each one is tempted when he is carried away and enticed by his own lust' (James 1:14 NASB). The Devil's role in tempting us to sin, then, does not diminish our responsibility in the matter. It's still our fault.⁴

An article on bible.org, having posed the question, 'Is the devil to blame for our sin and suffering?' emphasizes that it is wrong to blame the devil in order to remove our guilt. 

"Today, regardless of the various external sources of temptation (Satan and the world), the final source is our own sinful nature or the lusts of self-centered desires of our own hearts (Jam. 1:14-15)."

What could be clearer than this statement in a study on James 1:13 from studyjesus.com? 

The Lord never Himself tempts anyone to sin, but He does permit Satan to do so. And Satan finds within the natural man that which is ready to yield to his allurements. However, the Devil's temptations do not excuse the faltering sinner. All moral evil is chargeable to the doer thereof.

An article from In Touch Ministries warns against the danger of overemphasizing Satan's power:

Those who believe they are at Satan’s mercy deny themselves victory because they never make more than a halfhearted attempt to overcome temptation. This belief opens the door for all kinds of excuses: “I can’t help it”; “The Devil made me do it”; “There was no way I could say no.”

In an article about the devil addressed specifically to Christadelphians, Sir Anthony Buzzard highlighted the same points:

It must be emphasized that belief in Satan as an external spirit does not excuse us from responsibility for our sins or false beliefs. We cannot blame Satan for our errors, claiming that “the Devil made me do it.” We are responsible, with God’s help, for learning the Truth, and turning from our sinful ways.

In a devotional piece on the Daily Bread website, after referring to a case where a woman blamed Satan for her role in stealing from her church, a pastor (while allowing the possibility of Satan's involvement) described this blame-shifting as "faulty theology" and came to the conclusion that "When we sin, the blame lies within."

Another pastor, blogging about the phrase "The Devil made me do it", commented:

I don't know about you, but I don't need to devil to make me sin. I do it just fine on my own, thank you. Now he may talk and he may tempt and he may entice and he may try to shout out my reasons for obedience to God, but he does not and can not make me sin. If I sin, or rather when I sin, it's my own fault and I bear the responsibility...Being tempted does not equal being forced.

A question addressed on the GotQuestions resource website was, "Why is 'the devil made me do it' not a valid excuse?" Even the question presupposes that it is not! Yet another pastor addresses dangers found in some charismatic churches where sins are habitually blamed on demon possession. A similar sentiment can be found here.

Such comments could also be multiplied many times over. However, we have seen enough evidence to draw some basic conclusions.

1) The phrase "The devil made me do it" originates, not from Christian theologians or pastors, but from the realm of satire and comedy, from whence it became embedded in popular culture.

2) While individuals - including some Christians - may on occasion attempt to blame the devil for their sins, orthodox theologians and pastors overwhelmingly and unambiguously denounce such excuses and robustly affirm personal responsibility for sin.

3) Christadelphians have for decades been falsely claiming that 'mainstream Christians' regard the devil's influence as absolving them of moral responsibility - usually without even attempting to offer evidence for this claim.⁵

Sadly, this misrepresentation shows no signs of abating. Christadelphians continue to spread this caricature of Christian doctrine despite abundant evidence to the contrary lying just a few mouse-clicks or a visit to a library away. How are we to account for this phenomenon? It appears, in the first place, that many Christadelphians zealously oppose traditional Christian teaching which they have never actually studied for themselves in any depth. Instead they rely on secondhand reports from fellow Christadelphians which, in this case at least, have been shown to be woefully inaccurate. I used to be in this very boat myself.

Moreover, based on my own observation there seem to be other Christadelphians who know better (having read Buzzard's article, for instance) but who refrain from speaking out against this myth, and perhaps even subtly encourage it. This suggests the disturbing possibility that some Christadelphians are more zealous about denouncing 'mainstream Christianity' than they are about truth.

I hope that this suggested explanation is unfounded. The best way to prove it unfounded would be for Christadelphians, particularly those in prominent teaching positions in the community, to set the record straight and put an end to the slanderous misrepresentation of 'mainstream Christian' teaching about the devil which has plagued the Christadelphian community for so long.

Doing so will enable more effective dialogue between Christadelphians and other Christians on the subject of the devil. Biblically and theologically literate Christians are unlikely to find the Christadelphian view compelling if they perceive that their own view has been misunderstood and caricatured.

This then is my appeal to Christadelphians: please stop teaching that "The devil made me do it" is a theological position of mainstream Christianity.

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1 Watkins, P. (1971). The Devil - the Great Deceiver. Birmingham: The Christadelphian, p. 42)^↩
2 Hodson, B.C. (n.d.). That Old Serpent, the Devil and Satan, p. 99.^↩
3 Smith-Shomade, B.E. (2002). Shaded Lives: African-American Women and Television. Rutgers University Press, p. 65.^↩
4 Boa, K.D. & Bowman R.M., Jr. (2007). Sense and Nonsense about Angels and Demons. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, p. 115.^↩
5 As far as I can tell, of the writers quoted above, only Watkins offers any evidence for his claim. He denies that he is caricaturing the Jehovah's Witnesses' position, citing a discussion with Jehovah's Witnesses in which he was told that he was "blaming human nature too much" and that "The devil was the one to blame." However, a single anecdote from a chat with Jehovah's Witnesses (perhaps on the doorstep) hardly constitutes the kind of evidence needed to show that the 'devil made me do it' attitude pervades the teaching of the church.^↩