GELARDINI Gabriella and ATTRIDGE Harold W 2016 Hebrews in Contexts Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 91 Leiden A

Brill_AJEC91.
qxp_SPINE=24mm 28-01-16 11:52 Pagina 1
Hebrews in Contexts
Scholars of Hebrews have repeatedly echoed the almost proverbial saying
that the book appears to its reader as a “Melchizedekian being without
genealogy.” For such scholars the aphorism identified prominent traits
Hebrews
of Hebrews, its enigmatic quality, its otherness, its marginality. Although
Franz Overbeck might unintentionally have stimulated such correlations,
they do not represent what his dictum originally meant. Writing during
the high noon of historicism in 1880, Overbeck lamented a lack of histori-
cal context, one that he had deduced on the basis of flawed presupposi-
in Contexts
tions of the ideological frameworks prevalent in his time. His assertion
made an impact, and consequently Hebrews was not only “othered” with-
in New Testament scholarship, its context was neglected and by some,
even judged as irrelevant altogether. Understandably, the neglect created
a deficit keenly felt by more recent scholarship, which has developed a
particular interest in Hebrews’ contexts. Hebrews in Contexts, edited
by Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge, is an expression of this
interest. It gathers authors who explore extensively on Hebrews’ relations
to other early traditions and texts (Jewish, Hellenistic, and Roman) in
order to map Hebrews’ historical, cultural, and religious identity in
greater, and perhaps surprising detail.
ancient judaism and early christianity 91 ajec 91 ancient judaism and early christianity 91
*hIJ0A4|TR WYy
gabriella gelardini is Associate Professor of New Testament
Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge (Eds.)

(Privatdozentin) at the Theological Faculty of the University of Basel.
Apart from numerous lexicon articles, essays, and short entries on
Hebrews, her publications on the Epistle include “Verhärtet eure Herzen Edited by
nicht”: Der Hebräer, eine Synagogenhomilie zu Tischa be-Aw (Brill, 2007) and
isbn 978-90-04-31168-8 the edited volume Hebrews: Contemporary Methods – New Insights (Brill, 2005; Gabriella Gelardini
issn 1871-6636 sbl, 2008).
brill.com/ajec and Harold W. Attridge
harold w. attridge is the Sterling Professor of Divinity at Yale
University Divinity School. He is the author of a commentary on
Hebrews (Hermeneia, 1989) and numerous essays on the Epistle.
BRILL BRILL
Hebrews in Contexts
Ancient Judaism and
Early Christianity
Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antiken Judentums
und des Urchristentums
Founding Editor
Martin Hengel † (Tübingen)
Executive Editors
Cilliers Breytenbach (Berlin)

Martin Goodman (Oxford)
Editorial Board
Lutz Doering (Münster) – Pieter W. van der Horst (Utrecht)

Tal Ilan (Berlin) – Judith Lieu (Cambridge)
Tessa Rajak (Reading/Oxford ) – Daniel R. Schwartz ( Jerusalem)
Seth Schwartz (New York)
VOLUME 91
The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/ajec

Hebrews in Contexts
Edited by
Gabriella Gelardini
Harold W. Attridge
LEIDEN | BOSTON
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Gelardini, Gabriella, editor. | Attridge, Harold W., editor.

Title: Hebrews in contexts / edited by Gabriella Gelardini, Harold W.
Attridge.
Description: Boston ; Leiden : Brill, 2016. | Series: Ancient Judaism and
early Christianity, ISSN 1871-6636 ; volume 91 | Includes bibliographical
references and indexes.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016008947 (print) | LCCN 2016009197 (ebook) | ISBN
9789004311688 (hardback) | ISBN 9789004311695 (e-book) | ISBN
9789004311695 (E-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Bible. Hebrews—Criticism, interpretation, etc.
Classification: LCC BS2775.52 .H43 2016 (print) | LCC BS2775.52 (ebook) | DDC
227/.8706—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2016008947
Want or need Open Access? Brill Open offers you the choice to make your research freely accessible online
in exchange for a publication charge. Review your various options on brill.com/brill-open.
Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill-typeface.
issn 1871-6636
isbn 978-90-04-31168-8 (hardback)
isbn 978-90-04-31169-5 (e-book)
Copyright 2016 by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands.

Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Hes & De Graaf, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Rodopi and
Hotei Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise,
without prior written permission from the publisher.
Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill nv provided
that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive,
Suite 910, Danvers, ma 01923, usa. Fees are subject to change.
This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

For Ellen Bradshaw Aitken, in memoriam (1961–2014)
Μνημονεύετε τῶν ἡγουμένων ὑμῶν, οἵτινες ἐλάλησαν ὑμῖν τὸν λόγον τοῦ
θεοῦ, ὧν ἀναθεωροῦντες τὴν ἔκβασιν τῆς ἀναστροφῆς μιμεῖσθε τὴν πίστιν.
(Heb 13:7)
∵
Contents
Abbreviations x
List of Contributors xix
Introduction 1
Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge
Part 1
Jewish Contexts
Midrash in Hebrews / Hebrews as Midrash 15

Daniel Boyarin
Jewish and Christian Theology from the Hebrew Bible: The Concept of Rest
and Temple in the Targumim, Hebrews, and the Old Testament 31
Daniel E. Kim
Moses as Priest and Apostle in Hebrews 3:1–6 47

John Lierman
Hebrews and Second Temple Jewish Traditions on the Origins of

Angels 63
Eric F. Mason
Part 2
Greco-Roman and Empire-Critical Contexts
“You Have Become Dull of Hearing”: Hebrews 5:11 and the Rhetoric of
Religious Entrepreneurs 97
Fritz Graf
Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian Innovations in the Concept of

Priesthood and Their Reflections in the Treatise “To the Hebrews” 109
Jörg Rüpke
viii contents
“For Here We Have No Lasting City” (Heb 13:14a): Flavian Iconography,

Roman Imperial Sacrificial Iconography, and the Epistle to the
Hebrews 133
Harry O. Maier
The God of Peace and His Victorious King: Hebrews 13:20–21 in Its Roman
Imperial Context 155
Jason A. Whitlark
Part 3
Spatial Contexts
Critical Spatiality and the Book of Hebrews 181

Jon L. Berquist
The Body of Jesus Outside the Eternal City: Mapping Ritual Space in the
Epistle to the Hebrews 194
Ellen Bradshaw Aitken
Charting “Outside the Camp” with Edward W. Soja: Critical Spatiality and
Hebrews 13 210
Gabriella Gelardini
An Archaeology of Hebrews’ Tabernacle Imagery 238

Kenneth Schenck
Serving in the Tabernacle in Heaven: Sacred Space, Jesus’s High-Priestly

Sacrifice, and Hebrews’ Analogical Theology 259
David M. Moffitt
Part 4
Reception-Historical and Hermeneutical Contexts
Jesus the Incarnate High Priest: Intracanonical Readings of Hebrews

and John 283
Harold W. Attridge
contents ix
“In Many and Various Ways”: Theological Interpretation of Hebrews in the

Modern Period 299
Craig R. Koester
Stumbling Block or Stepping Stone? On the Reception History of

Hebrews 8:13 316
Jesper Svartvik
Ritual and Religion, Sacrifice and Supersession: A Utopian Reading

of Hebrews 343
Pamela Eisenbaum
Hebrews and the Discourse of Judeophobia 357

Ekkehard W. Stegemann and Wolfgang Stegemann
Index of Modern Authors 371

Index of Scripture and Other Ancient Sources 376
Abbreviations
Biblical Literature
Hebrew Bible/Old Testament

1, 2 Chr 1, 2 Chronicles
Dan Daniel
Deut Deuteronomy
Exod Exodus
Ezek Ezekiel
Gen Genesis
Hag Haggai
Hos Hosea
Isa Isaiah
Jer Jeremiah
Josh Joshua
Judg Judges
1 Kgs 1 Kings
Lev Leviticus
Mal Malachi
Neh Nehemiah
Prov Proverbs
Ps Psalms
1, 2 Sam 1–2 Samuel
Zech Zechariah
New Testament
Col Colossians
1, 2 Cor 1, 2 Corinthians
Eph Ephesians
Gal Galatians
Heb Hebrews
Matt Matthew
1, 2 Pet 1, 2 Peter
Phil Philippians
Rev Revelation
Rom Romans
1, 2 Thess 1, 2 Thessalonians
abbreviations xi
Deuterocanonical Works and Septuagint

Bar Baruch
3 Kgdms 3 Kingdoms
Wis Wisdom of Solomon
Greco-Roman Literature
Artemidorus
Onir. Oneirocritica
Cicero
Fin. De finibus
Har. resp. De haruspicum responso
Nat. d. De natura deorum
Dio Chrysostom
Or. Orationes
Dionysius of Halicarnassus
Ant. Rom. Antiquitates Romanae
Epictetus
Diatr. Diatribes
Homer
Il. Iliad
Od. Odyssey
Horace
Carm. Carmen saeculare
Iamblichus
Vit. Pyth. Life of Pythagoras
Maximus of Tyre
Dissertat. Dissertations
Ovid
Am. Amores
Fast. Fasti
xii abbreviations
Pliny (the Elder)

Nat. Naturalis historia
Pliny (the Younger)

Pan. Panegyricus Traiani
Plutarch
Num. Numa
Quaest. rom. Quaestiones Romanae
Res gest. div. Aug. Res Gestae Divi Augusti
Rom. Romulus
Seneca
Herc. Fur. Hercules Furens
Herc. Oet. Hercules Oetaeus
Statius
Silv. Silvae
Suetonius
Dom. Life of Domitian
Tit. Life of Titus
Varro
Rust. De re rustica
Vergil
Aen. Aeneid
Georg. Georgica
Xenonphon
Cyr. Cyropaideia
Jewish Literature
Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

Apoc. Ezra Apocalypse of Ezra
Apocr. Ezek. Apocryphon of Ezekiel
Apoc. Sedr. Apocalypse of Sedrach
2, 3 Bar. 2, 3 Baruch
abbreviations xiii
1, 2 En. 1, 2 Enoch
Jub. Jubilees
Pss. Sol. Psalms of Solomon
T. 12 Patr. Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs
T. Ab. Testament of Abraham
T. Levi Testament of Levi
Dead Sea Scrolls

1QH Hodayoth from Qumran
1QS Serek ha Yachad from Qumran
CD Cairo Damascus Document
Hellenistic Jewish Literature

Josephus
A.J. Antiquitates Judaicae
B.J. Bellum Judaicum
C. Ap. Contra Apionem
Philo
Conf. De confusione linguarum
Congr. De congressu eruditorum
Det. Quod deterius potiori insidiari soleat
Ebr. De ebrietate
Gig. De gigantibus
Her. Quis rerum divinarum heres sit
Jos. De Josepho
Leg. Legum allegoriae
Legat. Legatio ad Gaium
Mos. De vita Mosis
Opif. De opificio mundi
QE Quaestiones et solutiones in Exodum
Plant. De plantatione
Praem. De praemiis et poenis
Sac. De sacrificiis
Somn. De somniis
Spec. Leg. De specialibus legibus
Midrashim
Cant. Rab. Song of Songs Rabbah
Deut. Rab. Deuteronomy Rabbah
Exod. Rab. Exodus Rabbah
xiv abbreviations
Gen. Rab. Genesis Rabbah

Lev. Rab. Leviticus Rabbah
Midr. Pss. Midrash on the Psalms
Pirqe R. El. Pirqe de Rab Eliezer
Pesiq. R. Pesiqta Rabbati
Pesiq. Rab Kah. Pesiqta de Rab Kahana
Mishnah and Talmud

m. Mishna
m. Mid. Mishna Middot
b. Kid. Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Kiddushin
b. Sanh.
b. Taʿanit Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Taʿanit
b. Zeb. Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Zebahim
y. Yoma Jerusalem Talmud, Tractate Yoma
Targumim
Tg. Targum
Tg. Neof. Targum Neofiti
Tg. Onq. Targum Onqelos
Tg. Ps.-J. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan
Early Christian Literature
Barn. Barnabas
1 Clem. First Epistle of Clement
Chrysostom
Hom. Heb. Homilies on the Epistle to the Hebrews
Hom. Jo. Homilies on the Gospel of John
Eusebius
Hist. eccl. Historia ecclesiastica
Praep. Ev. Praeparatio evangelica
Vit. Const. Vita Constantini
Origen
Comm. Commentary on John
Hom. Jer. Homilies on Jeremiah
abbreviations xv
Tertullian
Ap. Apology
General
AB Anchor Bible
ABD Anchor Bible Dictionary
ACCS Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture
AJA American Journal of Archeology
AJEC Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity
ALGHJ Arbeiten zur Literatur und Geschichte des Hellenistischen
Judentums
ANET Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament. Edited by
James B. Pritchard. 3rd ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press,
1969.
ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur
Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung. Edited by H. Temporini and
W. Haase. Berlin, 1972–.
BAC The Bible in Ancient Christianity
BCAR Bullettino della Commissione Archeologica Comunale di Roma
Bib Biblica
BINS Biblical Interpretation Series
BJRL Bulletin of the John Rylands Library
BNTC Black’s New Testament Commentaries
BR Biblical Research
BTB Biblical Theology Bulletin
BU Biblische Untersuchungen
BWANT Beiträge zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament
BZAW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
BZNW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CBQMS Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series
CBR Currents in Biblical Research
CC Continental Commentaries
CIL Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum
CJT Canadian Journal of Theology
COS The Context of Scripture. Edited by William W. Hallo. 3 vols. Leiden:
Brill, 1997.
CSCO Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium
xvi abbreviations
CSHJ Chicago Studies in the History of Judaism

DDD Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible
DSD Dead Sea Discoveries
ECC Eerdmans Critical Commentary
EDNT Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament
EJ Encyclopedia Judaica
EKKNT Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen Testament
EvTh Evangelische Theologie
ExpTim Expository Times
FAT Forschungen zum Alten Testament
FOTL Forms of the Old Testament Literature
Frg. Fragment
FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments
HNT Handbuch zum Neuen Testament
HSM Harvard Semitic Monographs
HTR Harvard Theological Review
IBS Irish Biblical Studies
ICC International Critical Commentary
ILS Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae
JAJS Journal of Ancient Judaism Supplements
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JECS Journal of Early Christian Studies
JJS Journal of Semitic Studies
JRS Journal of Roman Studies
JSHRZ-St Jüdische Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit, Studien
JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism
JSJSup Journal for the Study of Judaism Supplements
JSNT Journal for the Study of the New Testament
JSNTSup Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series
JSOT Journal for the Study of the Old Testament
JSOTSup Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series
JSS Journal of Semitic Studies
JTS Journal of Theological Studies
KEK Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar über das Neue Testament
LHB/OTS Library Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies
LNTS Library of New Testament Studies
LSJ A Greek-English Lexicon. Edited by H. G. Liddell, R. Scott, and
H. S. Jones. 9th ed. with revised supplement. Oxford, 1996.
LSTS Library of Second Temple Studies
abbreviations xvii
LXX Septuagint
MPTh Monatsschrift für Pastoraltheologie
MS(S) manuscript(s)
MT Masoretic Text
NA Nestlé-Aland, Novum Testamentum Graece, 28th ed.
NAB New American Bible
NAC New American Commentary
NCB New Century Bible Commentary
N.F. Neue Folge
NICNT New International Commentary on the New Testament
NIGTC New International Greek Testament Commentary
NJPS Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures: The New JPS Translation according to
the Traditional Hebrew Text
NovT Novum Testamentum
NovTSup Novum Testamentum Supplements
NPNF1 Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series 1
NPNF2 Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series 2
NS New Series
NTAbh Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen
NTL New Testament Library
NTOA Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus
NTS New Testament Studies
ÖTKNT Ökumenischer Taschenbuch-Kommentar zum Neuen Testament
OTL Old Testament Library
OTP Old Testament Pseudepigrapha
PG Patrologia Graeca [= Patrologiae cursus completus: Series graeca]
Edited by J.-P. Migne. 162 vols. Paris, 1857–1886.
PINTC Pillar New Testament Commentary
RB Revue Biblique
RevExp Review and Expositor
RNT Regensburger Neues Testament
RSR Recherches de science religieuse
SBL Society of Biblical Literature
SBLDS Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series
SBLMS Society of Biblical Literature Monograph Series
SBLRBS Society of Biblical Literature Resources for Biblical Study
SBLSP Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers
SC Sources chrétiennes
SEG Supplementum epigraphicum graecum
SHR Studies in the History of Religions
xviii abbreviations
SJLA Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity

SJSJ Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism
SNTSMS Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series
SPhA Studia Philonica Annual
STAC Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum
STDJ Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah
STRev Sewanee Theological Review
SUNT Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments
suppl. supplement
SVTP Studia in Veteris Testamenti Pseudepigraphica
TAPA Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association
TBN Themes in Biblical Narrative
TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by G. Kittel and
G. Friedrich. Translated by G. W. Bromiley. 10 vols. Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1964–1976.
TDOT Dictionary of the Old Testament. Edited by G. Johannes Botterweck
and Helmer Ringgren. Translated by John T. Willis. 15 vols. Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974–2006.
ThBl Theologische Blätter
ThLG Thesaurus Linguae Graecae
TJ Trinity Journal
TSAJ Texte und Studien zum Antiken Judentum
TynBul Tyndale Bulletin
USQR Union Seminary Quarterly Review
UUA Uppsala Universiteits Årsskrift
v./vv. verse, verses
WBC Word Biblical Commentary
WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament
WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
ZNW Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde
der älteren Kirche
ZThK Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche
List of Contributors

was Dean of the Faculty of Religious Studies, McGill University, and Professor
of Early Christian History and Literature. Her books include Jesus’ Death in
Early Christian Memory: The Poetics of the Passion (2004), Loosening the Roots of
Compassion: Meditations for Holy Week and Eastertide (2006), a co-translation
of the Heroikos by Philostratus (2001) and a co-edited volume on that text
(2004), and the co-edited volumes The Bible in the Public Square: Reading the
Signs of the Times (2008) and The Levant: Crossroads of Late Antiquity: History,
Religion, and Archaeology (2014). The Epistle to the Hebrews was one of her
principal research interests in recent years. Following a short illness, Ellen died
in June 2014.
Harold W. Attridge
is the Sterling Professor of Divinity at Yale University Divinity School. He is the
author of a commentary on Hebrews (Hermeneia, 1989) and numerous essays
on the Epistle.
Jon L. Berquist
(Ph.D., Vanderbilt, 1989) serves as Professor of Hebrew Bible at Claremont
School of Theology and President of Disciples Seminary Foundation,
Claremont, California. He is the co-editor of Constructions of Ancient Space,
volumes 1 and 2 (Bloomsbury, 2007 and 2008), and the author of books includ-
ing Judaism in Persia’s Shadow: A Social and Historical Approach (Fortress,
1995) and Controlling Corporeality: The Body and the Household in Ancient Israel
(Rutgers University Press, 2002).
Daniel Boyarin
Taubman Professor of Talmudic Culture and Rhetoric, UC Berkeley, received
his Ph.D. in 1975 from the Jewish Theological Seminary of America. He has
been an NEH Fellow (twice), a Guggenheim Fellow, a Fellow of the Institute for
Advanced Studies in Jerusalem, a holder of the Berlin Prize at the American
Academy in Berlin, and a Ford Foundation Fellow. He spent the academic year
2012-2013 as a fellow of the Wissenschaftskolleg in Berlin. He is a fellow of the
American Academy of Arts and Sciences since 2006.
Prof. Boyarin has written extensively on talmudic and midrashic studies,
and his work has focused on cultural studies in rabbinic Judaism, including
issues of gender and sexuality as well as research on the Jews as a colonized
xx list of contributors
people. His current research interests center primarily around questions of the
relationship of Judaism and Christianity in late antiquity and the genealogy of
the concept of “religion.”
His books include Intertextuality and the Reading of Midrash (1990), Carnal
Israel: Reading Sex in Talmudic Culture (1993), A Radical Jew: Paul and the Politics
of Identity (1994), and Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the
Invention of the Jewish Man (1997) all published by the University of California
Press. Dying for God: Martyrdom and the Making of Christianity and Judaism
appeared at Stanford University Press in the fall of 1999 [French and Italian
translations published]. Border Lines: The Partition of Judaeo-Christianity has
been published by University of Pennsylvania Press in 2004 (winner of the
AAR award for best book on religion in the area of historical studies in 2006
[German translation 2009; French 2011; Spanish 2013]), Socrates and the Fat
Rabbis in 2009 by the University of Chicago Press. His The Jewish Gospel: The
Story of the Jewish Christ was published in 2012 by the New Press (New York)
(Italian 2012, French, Japanese 2013).
Pamela Eisenbaum
is Professor of Biblical studies and Christian origins at Iliff School of Theology,
and is associate faculty of the Center for Judaic Studies at the University of
Denver. She is the author of The Jewish Heroes of Christian History: Hebrews 11 in
Literary Context, Invitations to Romans, and most recently, Paul Was Not a
Christian: The Original Message of a Misunderstood Apostle.
Gabriella Gelardini
is Associate Professor of New Testament (Privatdozentin) at the Theological
Faculty of the University of Basel. Her publications on Hebrews include,
“Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht”: Der Hebräer, eine Synagogenhomilie zu Tischa
be-Aw (BINS 83; Leiden: Brill, 2007), the edited volume Hebrews: Contemporary
Methods—New Insights (Leiden: Brill, 2005; Atlanta: SBL, 2008), and numerous
essays on the Epistle. Other works include Christus militans: Studien zur poli-
tischmilitärischen Semantik im Markusevangelium vor dem Hintergrund des
ersten jüdisch-römischen Krieges (NovTSup 165; Leiden: Brill, 2016).
Fritz Graf
is Distinguished University Professor in Classics at The Ohio State University.
His scholarly work, which addresses a wide range of problems in the religions
of Greece and Rome, includes Magic in the Ancient World (Harvard University
Press, 1997), Apollo (Routledge, 2007), and Roman Festivals in the Greek East
(Cambridge University Press, forthcoming).
list of contributors xxi
Daniel E. Kim
completed his Ph.D. at the University of Aberdeen. He is Assistant Professor of
Old Testament and Semitics at Talbot School of Theology, Biola University,
where he has been teaching since 2008.
Craig R. Koester
Academic Dean and Nasby Professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary
and Research Fellow of New Testament at University of the Free State,
Bloemfontein, is the author of numerous monographs and several commen-
taries on texts of the New Testament, including commentaries on the Epistle to
the Hebrews and the Book of Revelation for the Anchor Bible series.
John Lierman
received an M.Div. and an M.A. in New Testament at Trinity Evangelical
Divinity School, a Ph.D. in Divinity at Cambridge University, and a J.D. at the
University of Arizona. Author of The New Testament Moses (Mohr Siebeck,
2004) and editor of Challenging Perspectives on the Gospel of John (Mohr
Siebeck, 2006), he is presently an independent scholar and a litigator with the
law firm of Jones, Skelton & Hochuli, in Phoenix, Arizona.
Harry O. Maier
is Professor of New Testament and Early Christian Studies at Vancouver School
of Theology, Canada, and Fellow of the Max Weber Centre for Advanced
Cultural and Social Studies at the University of Erfurt, Germany. His books
include The Social Setting of the Ministry as Reflected in the Writings of Hermas,
Clement and Ignatius (Wilfred Laurier University Press, 2002), Apocalypse
Recalled: The Book of Revelation after Christendom (Fortress, 2002), and
Picturing Paul in Empire: Imperial Image, Text and Persuasion in Colossians,
Ephesians and the Pastoral Epistles (Bloomsbury / T&T Clark, 2013).
Eric F. Mason
is Julius R. Mantey Chair of Biblical Studies at Judson University, Elgin, Illinois.
He is the author of “You Are a Priest Forever”: Second Temple Jewish Messianism
and the Priestly Christology of the Epistle to the Hebrews (Brill, 2008) and editor
of five books, including Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews: A Resource for
Students (with Kevin B. McCruden; SBL/Brill, 2011), A Teacher for All Generations:
Essays in Honor of James C. VanderKam (general editor; 2 vols.; Brill, 2012), and
Reading 1–2 Peter and Jude: A Resource for Students (with Troy W. Martin;
SBL, 2014).
xxii list of contributors
David M. Moffitt
is Senior Lecturer in New Testament Studies, St. Mary’s College, the University
of St. Andrews, Scotland. He has published articles in a number of scholarly
journals including the Journal of Biblical Literature, Zeitschrift für die
Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche, and Zeitschrift
für Papyrologie und Epigraphik. His book Atonement and the Logic of
Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews (Brill, 2011) was a 2013 Lautenschläger
Award for Theological Promise recipient.
Jörg Rüpke
studied at Bonn, Lancaster, and Tübingen; 1995 Professor for Classical Philology
Potsdam; 1999 Chair of Comparative Religion at the University of Erfurt; since
2013 Vice-director of the Max Weber Center. From 2008 onwards Co-director of
the Research Group “Religious Individualization in Historical Perspective” and
since 2012 director of the ERC research project “Lived Ancient Religion.”
Kenneth Schenck
is Dean and Professor of New Testament at Wesley Seminary at Indiana
Wesleyan University. He is the author of several books and articles on Hebrews,
including Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews, Understanding the Book of
Hebrews, and a forthcoming volume, A New Perspective on Hebrews. Other
works include A Brief Guide to Philo, Jesus: Portraits in the Gospels, and Paul:
Messenger of Grace.
Ekkehard W. Stegemann
now retired, was formerly Professor of New Testament at the University of
Basel, Switzerland.
Wolfgang Stegemann
now retired, was formerly Professor of New Testament at the Augustana-
Hochschule Neuendettelsau, Germany.
Jesper Svartvik
is Krister Stendahl Professor of Theology of Religions at the Centre for Theology
and Religious Studies at Lund University, Sweden, and the Swedish Theological
Institute in Jerusalem. His current research explores interreligious aspects of
the Bible, the intersection between Christology and science and other religious
traditions, and both early and contemporary Jewish-Christian relations.
list of contributors xxiii
Jason A. Whitlark
is Associate Professor of New Testament at Baylor University in Waco, Tex. He
is the author of Enabling Fidelity to God: Perseverance in Hebrews in Light of the
Reciprocity Systems of the Ancient Mediterranean World, Resisting Empire:
Rethinking the Purpose of the Letter “To the Hebrews,” and co-editor of
Interpretation and the Claims of the Text: Resourcing New Testament Theology.
Introduction
Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge
Scholars of Hebrews have repeatedly echoed the famous and almost proverbial
saying that the book appears to its reader as a “Melchizedekian being with-
out genealogy.” For such scholars the aphorism identified prominent traits of
Hebrews, its enigmatic quality, its otherness, its marginality. Although Franz
Overbeck, the author of this proverb, might unintentionally have stimulated
such correlations, they were not what his dictum originally meant. Writing
during the high noon of historicism in 1880, Overbeck lamented a lack of
historical context,1 an alleged historical lack that he had deduced on the basis
of flawed presuppositions of the ideological frameworks prevalent in his time.
Oberbeck’s assertion made an impact, and consequently Hebrews was not only
“othered” within New Testament scholarship, its context was neglected and by
some,2 even judged as irrelevant altogether for the interpretation of the text.
Understandably, the neglect created a deficit keenly felt by more recent
scholarship, which has developed a particular interest in Hebrews’ contexts.
The present volume is an expression of this interest, hence the title Hebrews
in Contexts. It gathers authors who explore extensively on Hebrews’ relations
to other early traditions and texts (Jewish, Hellenistic, and Roman) in order
to map Hebrews’ historical, cultural, and religious identity in greater, and per-
haps surprising detail.
Conceptually this book builds on the first volume edited by Gabriella
Gelardini in 2005 under the title Hebrews Contemporary Methods—New
Insights,3 the aim of which had been to bring Hebrews more into the center of
New Testament scholarship. Also in its scholarly context and contributors this
book stands as a development of its predecessor. While the first volume had col-
lected papers presented at the international meetings of the Society of Biblical
Literature (SBL), the present one collects papers presented at the annual meet-
ings of the SBL, where the program unit on Hebrews moved in 2005.4
1 Franz Overbeck, Zur Geschichte des Kanons: Zwei Abhandlungen (Franz Overbeck: Werke und
Nachlass 2; in collaboration with Marianne Stauffacher-Schaub ed. Ekkehard W. Stegemann
and Rudolf Brändle; Stuttgart: Metzler, 1994), 379–538, 393.
2 Notably by Erich Gräßer.
3 This book (BINS 75; Leiden: Brill, 2005) was the first volume ever collecting essays on Hebrews
from different authors, to our knowledge the present one is the seventh.
4 Firstly as “Hebrews Consultation” (from 2005–2007), with the chairs Gabriella Gelardini
(University of Basel) and David R. Bauer (Asbury Theological Seminary), along with the
© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_002

2 Gelardini and Attridge
The present volume presents a selection of the eighteen finest and most
fitting papers—out of sixty-six—originally presented at the annual meeting
during the years 2005–2013:5 A revised and updated paper by John Lierman
and Kenneth Schenck from the year 2005, one by Daniel E. Kim form 2006, one
by Pamela Eisenbaum and one co-authored by Ekkehard W. Stegemann and
Wolfgang Stegemann from 2007, one by Harry O. Maier and Jörg Rüpke from
2008, one by Fritz Graf and Eric F. Mason from 2010, one by Daniel Boyarin
and Jon Berquist from 2011, one by Ellen B. Aitken, David M. Moffitt, and Jesper
Svartvik from 2012, one by Harold W. Attridge, Gabriella Gelardini, and Craig R.
Koester from 2013, and finally one written additionally by Jason A. Whitlark
from 2014. As a matter of course, there were more superb papers we would
have liked to include but refrained from doing so as we wanted to limit the
reprints in this volume to the two pieces of Eisenbaum and Rüpke.6
steering committee members Ellen B. Aitken (McGill University), Harold W. Attridge (Yale
University), Pamela M. Eisenbaum (Iliff School of Theology), George H. Guthrie (Union Univer
sity), Craig R. Koester (Luther Seminary), Kenneth L. Schenck (Indiana Wesleyan University),
and Ekkehard W. Stegemann (University of Basel). In 2008 the Consultation was renewed
as “Book of Hebrews in Context Group” (from 2008–2013), with the chairs Gelardini and
Attridge along with the steering committee members Aitken, Bauer (until 2009), Eisenbaum,
Guthrie (until 2009), Koester, Schenck, and Stegemann. In 2014 the Group was renewed as
“Section” (for the term 2014–2016).
5 We deliberately took some time to prepare this volume, as meanwhile and to our knowledge
seven other collections had been published, five by different authors (two more are in prepa-
ration, one by Régis Burnet, Catholic University of Leuven, Belgium and one by Jon Laansma,
Wheaton College, Illinois) and two by single authors: Rainer Kampling, ed., Ausharren in
der Verheissung: Studien zum Hebräerbrief (Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2005);
Richard Bauckham et al., A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology of Hebrews in its Ancient Contexts
(LNTS 387; London: T&T Clark, 2008); Knut Backhaus, Der sprechende Gott: Gesammelte
Studien zum Hebräerbrief (WUNT 240; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009); Richard Bauckham,
et al., The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B.
Eerdmans, 2009); Harold W. Attridge, Essays on John and Hebrews (WUNT 264; Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2010); Eric F. Mason and Kevin B. McCruden, eds., Reading the Epistle to the
Hebrews: A Resource for Students (RBS 66; Atlanta: SBL, 2011); Laansma, Jon C. and Daniel J.
Treier, eds., Christology, Hermeneutics, and Hebrews: Profiles from the History of Interpretation
(LNTS 423; London: T&T Clark, 2012).
6 Particularly a paper presented by Amy L. B. Peeler in 2007 and thereafter published under
the same title (“The Ethos of God in Hebrews” Perspectives in Religious Studies 37.1 [2010]:
37–51); one presented by David A. deSilva in 2008 (“How Greek was the Author of ‘Hebrews’?
A Study of the Author’s Location in Regard to Greek,” in Christian Origins and Greco-
Roman Culture: Social and Literary Contexts for the New Testament [ed. Stanley E. Porter
and Andrew W. Pitts; TENTS 9; Leiden: Brill, 2013], 629–49); one presented by Joshua D.
Garroway in 2009 (“A New Kind of Priest for a New Kind of People: The Relationship between
Introduction 3
In accordance with the concept of this book its authors include not only
experts in New Testament scholarship but also of specialists in Hebrew Bible,
Second Temple Judaism, Talmud, and Classics. Accordingly, this volume
will, we hope, be of interest not only for students of Hebrews and the New
Testament but also for colleagues engaged in those other subject areas.
The book is arranged in four thematic sections: Firstly “Jewish Contexts,” sec-
ondly “Greco-Roman and Empire-Critical Contexts,” thirdly—and for the first
time—“Spatial Contexts,” and finally “Reception-Historical and Hermeneutical
Contexts.” The arrangement within each section follows a chronological and/
or logical rationale.
The first section, “Jewish Contexts,” includes four essays and explores on
the one hand Hebrews’ genre as Midrash (Boyarin) and traces on the other
hand three concepts in the context of ancient Jewish literature and related
traditions, house/sanctuary (Kim), Moses’s offices (Lierman), and the origin of
angels (Mason).
In the first contribution, entitled “Midrash in Hebrews / Hebrews as
Midrash,” Daniel Boyarin contends that much will be gleaned by reading
Hebrews as an early instance of the form of Jewish scriptural commentary
known as midrash, in which verses are strung together in such fashion as to
reveal (and produce) new meaning for the scriptural texts. This approach, he is
convinced, could contribute not only to the study of Hebrews (and other early
Christian Greek texts such as Barnabas) but also, and perhaps even more, to
the early history of midrash itself.
In the following chapter, entitled “Jewish and Christian Theology from the
Hebrew Bible: The Concept of Rest and Temple in the Targumim, Hebrews, and
the Old Testament,” Daniel E. Kim investigates one possible parallel with the
Targumim in the author’s use of Psalm 95. Few scholars who have addressed
the use of Psalm 95 in Hebrews, he infers, have considered the text immedi-
ately prior its citation. Even though Heb 3:1–6 is structurally integrated into the
chapter as a whole, the passage itself, which deals with house/sanctuary, seems
to diverge thematically from both the main idea of the psalm and the exposi-
tion that follows its citation, both of which raise the idea of “rest.” The Targum
of Psalm 95 throws light, however, on the existence of an accepted theology that
Romans and Hebrews,” in Portraits of Jesus: Studies in Christology [ed. Susan E. Meyers;
WUNT 321; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012], 301–318); one presented by D. Jeffrey Bingham in
2010 (“Irenaeus and Hebrews,” in Irenaeus: Life, Scripture, Legacy [ed. Sara Parvis and Paul
Foster; Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2012], 65–80); and finally one presented by Hindy
Najman in 2012 under the title “Prophecy in Hebrews,” which due to over-commitments
could not be concluded for this volume.
combined the ideas of rest and house/sanctuary. Even a brief glance reveals
that a combined concept of rest and house existed in the Old Testament, as
well as in the Ancient Near East. Both Hebrews and the Targumim encapsulate
a shared theology found originally in the Old Testament.
In the subsequent contribution, entitled “Moses as Priest and Apostle in
Hebrews 3:1–6,” John Lierman demonstrates how Moses’s address as an apos-
tle and high priest in Heb 3:1–6 is echoed in a wide variety of ancient Jewish
literature and related traditions. Hebrews, he concludes, capitalizes on these
ancient perceptions of Moses as apostle and high priest in order to portray
Jesus as more excellent than Moses in just these offices.
And in the final chapter, entitled “Hebrews and Second Temple Jewish
Traditions on the Origins of Angels,” Eric F. Mason asserts that some scholars
who object to the idea that the author of Hebrews understood Melchizedek
as an angelic figure propose instead that the author considered angels to be
created beings. Support for this position may be found in the use of Ps 104
(lxx 103):4 in Heb 1:7 and the appearance there (and in Heb 1:2) of the verb
ποιέω, which often was used in creation contexts in the Septuagint. He argues
that neither of these points is conclusive. A survey of creation texts in the
Hebrew Bible reveals no explicit discussion of the origins of angels. Later,
several authors of Second Temple period Jewish texts do indeed assert that
angels are created, and often they use Ps 104:4 (sometimes in conjunction with
Gen 1) to make this point. This usage of the psalm is not universal, however,
and 4 Ezra 8:20–22 draws upon the psalm to emphasize the dominion of God
over the angels. Dominion also is the intent in Heb 1:7, and while creation is
the theme in 1:2, Hebrews uses the verb ποιέω in numerous ways elsewhere in
other contexts. Ultimately, he concludes, there is no need to link Heb 1:2 and
1:7 as creation texts.
The second section, “Greco-Roman and Empire-Critical Contexts,” includes
four essays and relates on the one hand Hebrews’ rhetoric to comparable
Greek authors (Graf) and compares on the other hand various concepts with
its contemporary Roman context, in particular priestly roles (Rüpke), ancient
visual culture (Maier), and the juxtaposition of peace and victory (Whitlark).
In the first contribution, entitled “ ‘ You Have Become Dull of Hearing’:
Hebrews 5:11 and the Rhetoric of Religious Entrepreneurs,” Fritz Graf focuses
on the polemical address to the recipients in Heb 5:11. He connects its rhetoric
with other texts that were written by itinerant specialists and address their
potential community or clients, not least with the authorial intervention in the
allegorical exegesis of an Orphic theogony in the so-called Derveni Papyrus,
which was written around 320 BCE but reflects an older text. Due to similarities
Introduction 5
he suggests that the writer of Hebrews was a comparable itinerant prophet,

and the appeal to hospitality in Heb 13:2 confirms this background.
In the following chapter, entitled “Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian
Innovations in the Concept of Priesthood and Their Reflections in the Treatise
‘To the Hebrews,’ ” Jörg Rüpke accepts the thesis of a Roman origin of Hebrews
around the end of the first century CE. This dating implies an educated audi-
ence that was raised in late Neronian or Flavian times and was informed by
Roman culture as expressed in public buildings, images, and—when we think
about a Jewish family background—rituals. He thus analyzes the text in terms
of contemporary urban culture and religion. Special attention he gives to the
priestly roles discussed, which are compared to the prominent role of pontifex
maximus of the Roman emperors and to the developments of major public
priesthoods during the second half of the first century CE.
In the subsequent contribution, entitled “ ‘For Here We Have No Lasting City’
(Heb 13:14a): Flavian Iconography, Roman Imperial Sacrificial Iconography,
and the Epistle to the Hebrews,” Harry O. Maier pursues an imperial and visual
reading of Hebrews. He presents Hebrews as a Flavian-era text composed in
Rome shortly after the defeat of Vitellius by Vespasian in 69 CE. The audi-
ence of Hebrews repeatedly met with images of imperial sacrifice and expe-
rienced a city under reconstruction after the destruction of the civil war. His
essay introduces a method for reading ancient texts in the context of ancient
visual culture. His discussion unites David Morgan’s definition of visual cul-
ture, David Banks’s treatment of internal and external cultural narrative in
the anthropological study of visual culture, and William J. T. Mitchell’s theo-
rization of imagetext with ancient rhetorical theories of ekphrasis to arrive at
a thick description of the rhetorical visualization strategies in Hebrews. His
argument presents Hebrews’ representation of Jesus’s final sacrifice, images of
the construction of a city without hands, and vivid depiction of Israel’s history
as visual strategies of persuasion that depend upon a shared imperial context
to achieve the treatise’s goals.
And in the final chapter, entitled “The God of Peace and His Victorious King:
Hebrews 13:20–21 in Its Roman Imperial Context,” Jason A. Whitlark argues that
the juxtaposition of peace and victory commonly encountered in the Roman
imperial context of the audience of Hebrews also occurs in the benediction
of Heb 13:20–21. The audience would have heard in the prayer a declaration
of God’s eschatological abundance secured through the victorious resurrec-
tion and enthronement of Jesus. These themes are especially prominent in the
opening chapters of Hebrews, where Jesus’s enthronement heralds his victory
over the devil, a victory that gives the audience access to the promised world
to come. Additionally, the audience can be assured that God is able effectively
to equip and to work in his people that which is good and pleasing before
him even amidst threats from the imperial culture that challenged the com-
munity’s fidelity. The prayer at the conclusion of Hebrews builds upon ideas
and themes previously established in the sermon to declare that Jesus is the
one true lord. Such claims also implicitly diminish competing claims, he con-
cludes, that Rome made for its rule and its emperor.
The third section, “Spatial Contexts,” includes five essays and offers, apart
from the first introduction of critical spatiality to Hebrews ever presented
(Berquist), contributions that analyze its spatial mappings and overlaid itiner-
aries (Aitken), the space “outside the camp” (Gelardini), and the sacred space
of the heavenly tabernacle (Schenck and Moffitt).
In the first contribution, entitled “Critical Spatiality and the Book of
Hebrews.” Jon L. Berquist demonstrates how spatial theory can provide numer-
ous insights into the places and rhetoric of the Book of Hebrews. The book
itself, he argues, focuses on absent spaces, such as the temple and the body
of Jesus, which are encountered not as spatial reality but only as memory and
representation. In the logic of the Book of Hebrews, both are present in the
real world of true forms, but not on the spatial plane that humans inhabit.
The book’s rhetoric also depicts the real temple and the real body as existing
outside of human-experienced time; both are from the beginning and perma-
nent rather than temporal. However, suffering allows the reader to experience
what is real. The real death of Jesus is also the death of the unreal now, allow-
ing the reader to exist already in what is permanent. At the same moment,
the book moves to a spatial rhetoric in which Jesus’s suffering is “outside the
camp” (13:13), where time moves and people bleed. Thirdspace practices such
as worship, he concludes, replace the Firstspace temple, and human suffering
re-enacts the Firstspace body of Jesus, in a shared space both outside the walls
and inside the heart.
In the following chapter, entitled “The Body of Jesus outside the Eternal City:
Mapping Ritual Space in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” Ellen Bradshaw Aitken
notes that the persuasive strategies of Hebrews employ metaphors of travel,
arrival, and entrance both to describe Jesus’s work on earth and in heaven and
to encourage its inscribed audience to maintain solidarity with him. The psalm
quotation on the lips of Jesus in Heb 10:5–7 not only announces his “arrival” to
do God’s will but also emphasizes the “body prepared” in place of the sacrificial
offerings of the Israelite cult. Using Henri Lefebvre’s critical spatial theory, as
developed by Edward W. Soja and others, she examines the spatial mappings
and overlaid itineraries of Hebrews in order to understand the semiotically
Introduction 7
complex landscape in which the suffering body of Jesus is placed and through
which he and the audience journey. It attends particularly to the erasure and
reinscribing of meaning within this landscape in relation to patterns of sacri-
fice, offering, and ritual presence. Building on her earlier work that develops
a reading of Hebrews within the cityscape of Flavian Rome, she proposes that
Hebrews is thus deploying a conceptual reimagining of the ritual, sacrificial,
and monumental space of the city of Rome in order to create a compelling
vision of “the city that is to come” (Heb 13:14).
In the subsequent contribution, entitled “Charting ‘Outside the Camp’ with
Edward W. Soja: Critical Spatiality and Hebrews 13,” Gabriella Gelardini ana-
lyzes Heb 13, particularly vv. 7–19, applying the methods of spatial analysis.
Of specific interest to her is the space described as “outside the camp” in
Heb 13:11–13. As the term seems to allude to three different spaces in time,
namely, the spaces outside the desert camp, outside Jerusalem, and outside
Rome (the addressees’ location as generally assumed), a practice of overlap-
ping maps can be observed, in which the first shapes all subsequent maps. This
first map points to Sinai, where the ritual related to Yom Kippur was intro-
duced. As Sinai is also the location where Israel’s leader Moses, to whom Jesus
in Hebrews is compared, left the camp due to its defilement, the primary inter-
text underlying Heb 13 is identified as Exod 33, particularly vv. 7–11. A detailed
spatial analysis of the Sinai narrative adopting Edward W. Soja’s trialectic of
Firstspace, Secondspace, and Thirdspace, together with additional readings
from various Targumim as well as Philo of Alexandria, results in a useful model
that seems to have served the author of Hebrews to interpret the spaces, bod-
ies, and actions in ch. 13. In this analysis she not only sheds new interpretative
light on a chapter widely considered to be a crux interpretum but also strength-
ens the position that this chapter is an integral part of the preceding text in
Hebrews.
In the succeeding chapter, entitled “An Archaeology of Hebrews’ Tabernacle
Imagery,” Kenneth Schenck explores the layers of metaphor within the New
Testament sermon of Hebrews from both historical and literary perspectives.
The most fundamental layer of this “tel” is the early Christian conceptualiza-
tion of Jesus’s death on the cross as a sacrifice. Added to this layer is the notion
that Christ was not only the sacrifice but also the one sacrificing; he was both
priest and sacrifice. By the time the author is finished, we have not only sev-
eral localized metaphors (e.g., 10:20) but also an overall high-priestly metaphor
that pits Christ as superior sacrifice and priest in a superior sanctuary against
the shadowy precedents of the Levitical system. While heaven itself is the most
literal correspondent to the heavenly sanctuary in this contrast, the construct
of a heavenly sanctuary serves more fundamentally as a foil to the now-obso-

lete earthly sanctuary and thus, in a sense, is most precisely that abstract space
in which true atonement has finally taken place.
And in the final contribution, entitled “Serving in the Tabernacle in
Heaven: Sacred Space, Jesus’s High-Priestly Sacrifice, and Hebrews’ Analogical
Theology,” David M. Moffitt contends that in Hebrews the sacred space of the
heavenly tabernacle and the sacrifice Jesus offers there are often interpreted as
part of an extended metaphor intended to explain the salvific benefits of the
event of Jesus’s crucifixion in terms of Jewish blood sacrifice. He argues that,
as in some apocalyptic texts, the author of Hebrews conceives of heaven as
a multilayered space whose highest level contains the true tabernacle struc-
ture upon which the earthly temple and priestly ministry are patterned. In his
assessment therefore, the heavenly sanctuary is to be thought of not as coex-
tensive with heaven, but rather as the most sacred space within “the heavens.”
In Hebrews, Jesus is thought to have ascended to and entered this most holy
heavenly space after his resurrection. There he presented himself before God
as the ultimate atoning sacrifice. Yet this kind of cosmological and theological
reflection on Jesus’s service in the heavenly tabernacle implies, he concludes,
that the author is thinking in terms not of sacrificial metaphors but of analo-
gies between the high priest’s entry into the earthly sacred space of the temple
and Jesus’s entry as the great high priest into the ultimate sacred space within
the heavenly tabernacle.
The concluding, fourth section, “Reception-Historical and Hermeneutical
Contexts,” includes five essays and considers Hebrews reception history not
only in antiquity (Attridge) but also in modern (Koester) as well as in present
time (Svartvik, Eisenbaum, Stegemann and Stegemann) not without consider-
ing its anti-Jewish interpretation in the Christian church since antiquity.
In the first contribution, entitled “Jesus the Incarnate High Priest:
Intracanonical Readings of Hebrews and John,” Harold W. Attridge notes how
readers of Hebrews among the Church Fathers regularly read the Epistle
“canonically,” assuming that it was part of a single body of revelation with other
texts of what was coming to be the New Testament. Use of authoritative inter-
texts from the canon could at times distort or dramatically extend the plain
sense of the primary text. They could be used to resolve exegetical or herme-
neutical dilemmas, sometimes quite insightfully. His essay explores examples
of the canonical reading of the Epistle to the Hebrews and the Gospel of John,
with special attention to the interpretation by Origen and Chrysostom of the
efficacy of Christ’s sacrificial death.
In the following chapter, entitled “ ‘In Many and Various Ways’: Theological
Interpretation of Hebrews in the Modern Period,” Craig R. Koester addresses
Introduction 9
reception history that asks how the contexts and assumptions of readers from
the past affected their interpretation of a text. Exploring reception history
enhances the self-understanding of current interpreters by enabling them to
identify their own perspectives more clearly. His contribution considers three
types of modern interpreter, all of whom used critical methods and yet showed
clear theological interests that were shaped by their own traditions and histori-
cal situations. Alexander Balmain Bruce and James Moffatt reflected the liberal
currents in the Anglo-American Reformed tradition and saw Hebrews offer-
ing a message of freedom of access to God. German Lutherans Otto Michel
and Ernst Käsemann shared the Confessing Church’s resistance to National
Socialism and read Hebrews as a call to hold fast the confession in the face of
dispiriting opposition. The French Roman Catholic Albert Vanhoye reflected
conditions leading up to and beyond Vatican II and focused his reading of
Hebrews on questions of priestly mediation.
In the subsequent contribution, entitled “Stumbling Block or Stepping
Stone? On the Reception History of Hebrews 8:13,” Jesper Svartvik explores
the reception history of Heb 8:13, with a focus on its implications for Jewish-
Christian relations. There are two distinct trajectories in the reception history
of Hebrews in general and in this verse in particular. The first and better-known
gives vent to a supersessionist paradigm, while the second trajectory empha-
sizes the pilgrimage motif. Concluding he suggests that the latter interpreta-
tion could contribute to a discourse of respect and to the ongoing process of
reconciliation of Jews and Christians.
In the succeeding chapter, entitled “Ritual and Religion, Sacrifice and
Supersession: A Utopian Reading of Hebrews,” Pamela Eisenbaum begins with
a critique of scholarship on Hebrews for using theological categories to under-
stand sacrifice and allowing supersessionist attitudes still to color the text’s
interpretation. An alternative way of reading the role of sacrifice in Hebrews,
using two broad categories of religion, has been articulated by Jonathan Z.
Smith, who distinguishes between locative and utopian traditions. Locative
traditions tend to value a well-ordered universe that usually revolves around a
central sacred place, and religious rituals are about what Smith calls “emplace-
ment,” which ensures that everything has its proper place so as to maintain
the order of the cosmos. Utopian traditions, by contrast, see the world as dis-
ordered, burdensome, constraining, and lacking in a stabilizing center. Thus,
utopian ideas and goals strive for transcendence of this world, and rituals are
directed not at maintaining the order of the cosmos but at seeking salvation
from it. Hebrews’ discussion of sacrifice reflects Smith’s utopian type of reli-
gion. Guy Stroumsa has recently argued that the cessation of animal sacrifice
in late antiquity represented an enormous transformation of the very nature of
religion, a shift that can be described as a movement from locative to utopian.

She concludes that Hebrews’ critique of Levitical sacrifice reflects such a shift.
And in the final contribution, entitled “Hebrews and the Discourse of
Judeophobia,” Ekkehard W. Stegemann and Wolfgang Stegemann assert that
one of the most controversial topics of Hebrews’ interpretation is whether it is
an anti-Judaic document. That controversy focuses in particular on statements
within the book that seem to represent what has been called supersessionism.
But how can we know that the supposed anti-Jewish tendency of Hebrews is
the meaning of the text and not the interpreter’s construction? This chapter
traces antithetic assessments of Hebrews to “reading formations” or “forma-
tions of discourse.” Hebrews can be allocated a place within anti-Jewish inter-
pretation in the Christian church since Justin, they conclude, but whether that
assessment is also valid for historic reading formations contemporaneous with
the work itself must remain an open question.
In conclusion, we as editors wish to express our gratitude to several indi-
viduals who supported this project and helped to bring it to a successful end.
First of all our thanks goes to all authors in this volume, for their participa-
tion and cooperation in providing what was needed in due time. We wish also
to thank Loes Schouten, Publishing Director at Brill, for recommending this
volume to and the editors for accepting it in their series. We wish to thank
Mattie Kuiper and Tessa Schild as well, Editors at Brill in Biblical Studies, for
their attentive supervision of this project throughout the entire process. And
finally, we are especially grateful to Rona Johnston Gordon, our editorial assis-
tant (Yale University) in this project. Her intelligent, professional, and very effi-
cient work, paired with a meticulous concern for details, was indispensable
and improved the quality of this volume greatly.
In the stage of collecting the essays we were taken aback by the untimely
death of Ellen Bradshaw Aitken, who in 2014—together with Craig R. Koester—
had become the new chair of the Hebrews program unit at the ASBL. It is to her
memory that we in gratitude dedicate this volume.
Bibliography
Attridge, Harold W. Essays on John and Hebrews. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen

zum Neuen Testament 264. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010.
Backhaus, Knut. Der sprechende Gott: Gesammelte Studien zum Hebräerbrief.
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 240. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2009.
Introduction 11
Bauckham, Richard, Daniel R. Driver, Trevor A. Hart, and Nathan MacDonald, eds.
A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology of Hebrews in its Ancient Contexts. Library of New
Testament Studies 387. London: T&T Clark, 2008.
———. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology. Grand Rapids, Mich.:
William B. Eerdmans, 2009.
Bingham, D. Jeffrey. “Irenaeus and Hebrews.” Pages 65–80 in Irenaeus: Life, Scripture,
Legacy. Edited by Sara Parvis and Paul Foster. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2012.
DeSilva, David A. “How Greek was the Author of ‘Hebrews’? A Study of the Author’s
Location in Regard to Greek.” Pages 629–649 in Christian Origins and Greco-Roman
Culture: Social and Literary Contexts for the New Testament. Edited by Stanley E.
Porter and Andrew W. Pitts. Texts and Editions for New Testament Study 9. Leiden:
Brill, 2013.
Garroway, Joshua D. “A New Kind of Priest for a New Kind of People: The Relationship
between Romans and Hebrews.” Pages 301–318 in Portraits of Jesus: Studies in
Christology. Edited by Susan E. Meyers. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum
Neuen Testament 321. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012.
Gelardini, Gabriella, ed. Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights. Biblical
Interpretation Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
Kampling, Rainer, ed. Ausharren in der Verheissung: Studien zum Hebräerbrief. Stuttgart:
Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2005.
Laansma, Jon C. and Daniel J. Treier, eds. Christology, Hermeneutics, and Hebrews:
Profiles from the History of Interpretation. The Library of New Testament Studies 423.
London: T&T Clark, 2012.
Mason, Eric F. and Kevin B. McCruden, eds. Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews: A
Resource for Students. Resources for Biblical Study 66. Atlanta: SBL, 2011.
Overbeck, Franz. Zur Geschichte des Kanons: Zwei Abhandlungen. Franz Overbeck:
Werke und Nachlass 2. In collaboration with Marianne Stauffacher-Schaub edited
by Ekkehard W. Stegemann and Rudolf Brändle. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1994.
Peeler, Amy L. B. “The Ethos of God in Hebrews.” Perspectives in Religious Studies 37.1
(2010): 37–51.
Part 1
Jewish Contexts
∵
Midrash in Hebrews / Hebrews as Midrash
Daniel Boyarin
Introduction
On my first reading of Hebrews, my immediate and powerful impression was

that here was midrash, midrash in style, midrash even in structure.1 I wish
here to put some flesh on the bones of that notion. With this impression so
overwhelming for one who has midrash ringing in his ears, the claim made in
the second part of the title seems justified—Hebrews can be understood as
midrash. I mean specifically midrash, as opposed to other sorts of Jewish com-
mentary. I define midrash here, as I also did over twenty years ago, as “radical
rereading of the canon, in which potentially every part refers to and is interpre-
table by every other part.”2 In that earlier work, I observed specific structures
within which verses are concatenated to make new sense. The crucial point
is that the discourse and, especially, the new points and ideas that it evokes
are produced entirely through the speaking of the verses themselves and their
recontextualization: “The fundamental moment of all of these midrashic forms
is precisely the very cocitation of several verses.”3 On this account Hebrews
is midrash, not pesher, not allegory, certainly not paraphrase or rewritten
Bible—to name some of the ancient Jewish, Greek, and Christian modes of
interpretation.4 I exemplify this point here first by comparing a perfectly ordi-
nary bit of Hebrews with a midrashic passage. I then present a more complex
argument about a more difficult passage in Hebrews, where I hope to show
that the comparison with specific midrashic texts bears hermeneutic fruit. To
the extent that it is accepted, this argument ought to help answer questions
concerning the provenience of the text and its author’s cultural identity.
1 The arguments offered below effectively support Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary
on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 24, against Friedrich
Schröger, Der Verfasser des Hebräerbriefes als Schriftausleger (BU 4; Regensburg: Pustet, 1968),
on the question of closeness to Qumran modes of interpretation.
2 Daniel Boyarin, Intertextuality and the Reading of Midrash (Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 1990), 16.
3 Boyarin, Intertextuality, 29.
4 Thus, even though Qumran and Philo are better chronological matches for Hebrews than is
midrash, I would suggest that midrash is a better comparandum for method and style, pace
Attridge, Hebrews, 91 n. 137.

16 Boyarin
Stringing Verses: Sounding Midrash in Hebrews
The reader of Hebrews commentaries is very quickly confronted with the term
and notion “catena,” or chain, to refer to the listing of biblical verses from dif-
ferent parts of the canon in service of a particular point.5 The implication is
usually that the catenae predate their use within the discourse of Hebrews,
the author of which has adopted and adapted them for his particular purpose,
a purpose that subordinates the catena to a particular argument. The term is
generally used only with the homily in the first chapter of Hebrews, but to my
ears there is no substantial difference in form between this homily and the
succeeding homilies, many of which are characterized by the concatenation
of verses from different parts of the Hebrew canon. To the best of my knowl-
edge, no such alleged biblical catenae have ever been found “in the wild,” and
the earliest usage of the term refers to chains of citations from church writers,
whether on the interpretation of a particular scriptural text or on some other
theme.6 Although we have no midrashic texts that precede Hebrews chrono-
logically (and I am certainly not claiming “rabbinic” influence on its author), it
makes more sense to me a priori to compare the “chains” of verses within the
New Testament to those with which they are most similar, namely, “chains” of
verses in midrash. For the latter the term “stringing” [Hebrew, ‫]חרז‬, like beads,
is a native term, as in the following passage:
Ben-Azzai was sitting and interpreting [making midrash], and fire was
all around him. They went and told Rabbi Akiva, “Rabbi, Ben-Azzai is sit-
ting and interpreting, and fire is burning all around him.” He went to him
and said to him, “I heard that you were interpreting, and the fire burning
all around you.” He said, “Indeed.” He said, “Perhaps you were engaged
5 See, e.g., Attridge, Hebrews, 50; Craig R. Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction
and Commentary (AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001), 198–99.
6 4Q Florilegium is, and declares itself, midrash, that is, a semantically structured interpreta-
tion of biblical verses by bringing them into conversation with each other, the classical form
of midrash. See on this Qumran text already the title of Yadin’s paper, “A Midrash on 2 Sam.
Vii and Ps. i-ii (4Q Florilegium),” Israel Exploration Journal 9, no. 2 (1959): 95–98, and also
the explicit conclusion and discussion by William R. Lane, “A New Commentary Structure
in 4Q Florilegium,” JBL 78 (December 1959): 343–46. Barnabas as well, for instance at 2:4–10,
manifests a hermeneutical structure best compared to midrash, helping us again to predate
the form. There is no reason to suppose that these chains of verses existed independently
of the manifestly homiletic and interpretative contexts in which they are found. A full
study of this early history of midrash is a major desideratum and will surely contribute as
much to midrash research as to research and interpretation of these early “Christian” texts.
Midrash In Hebrews / Hebrews As Midrash 17
in the inner-rooms of the Chariot [theosophical speculation].” He said,

“No. I was sitting and stringing the words of Torah [to each other], and the
Torah to the Prophets and the Prophets to the Writings, and the words were
as radiant / joyful as when they were given from Sinai, and they were as
sweet as at their original giving. Were they not originally given in fire, as it
is written, ‘And the mountain was burning with fire’ (Deut 4:11)?”7
Although admittedly an anachronistic comparison, we see from this passage

that the activity of stringing or chaining verses together, making “catenae” of
them, was an honored and treasured way of approaching scripture, to make its
words live as on the day of their revelation. The important point is that far from
there being prefabricated catenae for the purpose of making particular argu-
ments, the activity of stringing/chaining is the creative work of the homilist
himself. Instead, then, of imagining some specifically christological impulse
behind the making of “catenae,” I gingerly suggest that we ascribe that activity
to the Jewish practice with scripture that is attested in this midrashic passage.
One outcome of this suggestion is that the collections of verses, the strings of
beads, can be just as easily theorized as the product of the author of Hebrews
as ascribed to some putative tradition. Another consequence, of perhaps less
interest to New Testament scholars than to scholars of Judaic biblical interpre-
tation, would be that the practices of midrash are considerably older than their
earliest rabbinic attestation.
Let us turn to an example among many others that could have been chosen
from a classic [Tannaitic] midrash. The text is from the fourth-century midrash
the Mekhilta d’Rabbi Ishma‌ʾel to Exod 20:2.
I am the Lord your God [Exod 20:2]: Why was it said? For this reason. At
the sea He appeared to them as a mighty hero doing battle, as it is said:
“The Lord is a man of war.” At Sinai he appeared to them as an old man
full of mercy. It is said: “And they saw the God of Israel” (Exod 24,10), etc.
And of the time after they had been redeemed what does it say? “And the
like of the very heaven for clearness” (ibid.). Again it says: “I beheld till
thrones were placed, and one that was ancient of days did sit” (Dan 7:9).
7 Shimshon Dunsky, ed., Song of Songs Rabbah (Tel-Aviv: Dvir, 1980), 42, fourth century, my
translation, as with all Hebrew / Aramaic texts in this article. The passage uses the image of
a “string,” presumably of beads, which one might think of as different from a “chain.” Both
“string” and “chain” are metaphors for the same literary phenomenon.
18 Boyarin
And it also says: “A fiery stream issued,” etc. (Dan 7:10).8 Scripture, there-
fore, would not let the nations of the world9 have an excuse for saying
that there are two powers, but declares: “The Lord is a man of war, the
Lord is His name.” He, it is, who was in Egypt and He who was at the sea.
It is He who was in the past and He who will be in the future. It is He who
is in this world and He who will be in the world to come, as it is said, “See
now that I, even I, am He,” etc. (Deut 32:39). And it also says: “Who hath
wrought and done it? He that called the generations from the beginning.
I, the Lord, who am the first, and with the last am the same” (Isa 41:4).
I have discussed the meaning of this difficult midrashic text elsewhere.10 Here I
want to point out its formal patterning, namely, the citation of multiple verses
from different canonical texts brought to bear on a single hermeneutical ques-
tion, to wit, the implication of certain biblical verses that there might be two
powers in heaven [= two persons, hence the “nations of the world”]. Even more
significant is the fact that when multiple verses are cited to make a single point,
8 Alan F. Segal, Two Powers in Heaven: Early Rabbinic Reports about Christianity and
Gnosticism (SJLA 25; Brill, 1977), 40, understands the citation of v. 10 as an attempt to
answer the claim of the heretics because it says that “A fiery stream issued from Him,”
implying only one divine figure. Segal (Two Powers, 40 n. 9) writes that “the argument of
the rabbis is not completely convincing for the text may only be referring to one of the
two figures at this point.” Segal misconstrues the text, however. According to midrashic
form, the citation “and it also says” must be a continuation of the problem and not the
answer. The “etc.” refers then to the following verses, in which it seems clear that two
divine figures are envisioned. This citation is, then, indeed part of the problem (and not
an unconvincing solution, pace Segal). The solution comes with the citation of Exod 20:2,
which is precisely what the midrashic form would lead us to expect.
9 Segal (Two Powers, 41) remarks that the text has “identified the people who believe in
‘two powers in heaven’ as gentiles,” and later is somewhat nonplussed, remarking, “they
must have been gentiles well-versed in Jewish tradition to have offered such a dangerous
and sophisticated interpretation of Dan. 7:9f.” (55). Gentiles who are so well versed and
who would make such a dangerous and sophisticated interpretation, precisely of Dan 7,
are called Christians! Segal misses that “nations of the world” in the Mekhilta frequently
refers to Christians, “the Church from the ethne,” to be sure, although he does allow for
this possibility (56–57). It is precisely with reference to that group that the Mekhilta fre-
quently insists on referring to God as “He who spoke and the world was,” which I have
interpreted as an attack on the Logos theology, as an insistence that there is no Logos, no
Son; there is only the “Father” who spoke and the world was.
10 See Daniel Boyarin, “Is Metatron a Converted Christian?” Judaïsme Ancien—Ancient
Judaism 1 (2013): 13–62, and in greater detail, Boyarin, “Once Again: ‘Two Dominions in
Heaven’ in the Mekhilta [in Hebrew],” Tarbiz 81 (2013): 87–101.
the word “and also” is repeated, in this case with the verb “he said.” We have no
reason to suppose that these verses came from a preexisting catena, but the
catena-like effect forms the thematized gist of the midrashic enterprise, as we
saw above. Chaining or stringing verses together into an ever-shifting canoni-
cal kaleidoscope forms the very heart of the matter. Meaning is generated out
of the concatenation of the verses, not sought in a preexisting concatenation.
Comparing this structure with myriad passages in Hebrews would be revela-
tory. Here I do so with just one, chosen almost at random from ch. 2:
Now it was fitting for him, for whom and through whom all things exist, in
bringing many sons and daughters to glory, to perfect through sufferings
the one who leads the way to salvation. For the one who sanctifies and
the ones who are sanctified are from a single source, for which reason he
is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters, saying, “I shall proclaim
your name to my brothers and sisters: in the midst of the assembly I shall
sing your praise.” And again, “I shall trust in him,” and again, “Behold the
children whom God gave me.” (Heb 2:10–13, Attridge, Hebrews, 78)
This passage is an explanation of the passion (and perhaps the incarnation as

well). Jesus had to suffer because through that suffering of his flesh, he became
enabled to “give aid to those who are being tested” (Heb 2:18). The first part of
the argument, then, is the demonstration that Jesus is indeed of human flesh
and blood and that these three verses all argue that point. If Jesus refers to
other humans, whether just Jews or the whole of humanity—the jury’s still out
on that one, I think—as “brothers and sisters,” then he is confessing without
shame that he is made of flesh and blood as they are, that is, they are from a
single source as children of Abraham.11 The important moment for my argu-
ment here, however, is the means of this proof, which could not be more
midrashic in style. The first citation in v. 12 is from Psalm 22, a psalm that was
understood christologically as early as the Gospels themselves and was even
recognized as such within rabbinic literature, which, in turn, also understood
the psalm as referring to the Christ, just not to Jesus.12 It is no wonder, then, to
11 Amidst the many interpretative possibilities offered over the centuries (Attridge, Hebrews,
88), I choose this one as it seems to me that it is glossed as such in Heb 2:16, “for he does
not take hold of angels, but he does take hold of the seed of Abraham.” Reading the “single
source” as God quite undermines the argument that Jesus is of human flesh, as he other-
wise could not save human flesh. Cf. Attridge, Hebrews, 89.
12 Naomi Koltun-Fromm, “Psalm 22’s Christological Interpretive Tradition in Light of
Christian Anti-Jewish Polemic,” JECS 6 (Spring 1998): 37–57.
20 Boyarin
find Jesus, the Christ, proclaiming God’s name in the midst of the congrega-
tion in v. 23 of that psalm. The connector πάλιν (“again”) is functionally (and
frequently in midrash lexically) parallel to the “again it says . . . again it says”
[‫ ]וכן הוא אומר‬of the midrashic passage, where the same point is made again
and again by means of the citation of further verses, as we have seen in our
example above (and can also see earlier, at Heb 1:6).13 The first of these verses is
Isa 8:17,14 while the second comes from the same chapter of the Prophet but
one verse later. Although Attridge is absolutely correct in claiming that the
context of the verses in Isaiah is not determinative for the midrashic under-
standing, just as the context is often not determinative in ancient Jewish inter-
pretation, even in other styles as well,15 nevertheless, frequently enough the
midrashic reading is illuminated by referring to the immediate context, at
least, of the verse cited. This contextualization seems especially apposite when
two adjacent verses that form a syntactic / semantic unit are cited together, as
here. The πάλιν is no bar to this mode of interpretation, as midrash will cite
verse after verse with such formulae when the second verse contributes or
even completes the thought that the first verse begins.16
Additionally, we must remember that there is a messianic context to these
verses as well, with the mention of Immanuel in Isa 8:8, just above. Let me
repeat—such contextualization within the original context is not necessary
for interpreting midrash, but neither is it excluded, and frequently it is highly
illuminating. Now God—or his Christ—is speaking through the Prophet; it is
not the Prophet himself. I tentatively suggest, therefore, that Christ is being
made to say here that because of those children whom God has given him, he
awaits the fulfillment of God’s promise in spite of the defalcation of Israel. As
he shares their flesh and blood status, he will be able to save them. In other
words, the two verses together constitute the christological portent that there
13 Compare also λέγει δὲ πάλιν in precisely a similar context in Barn. 2:7, which matches
even more precisely the common ‫ וכן הוא אומר‬of early midrash.
14 Following the correct inference of Attridge (Hebrews, 91) that while Ps 18:3 (=2 Sam 22:3) is
also a possibility, the likelihood is that the author has the two contiguous verses of Isaiah
in mind.
15 Attridge, Hebrews, 91 n. 137.
16 There is accordingly no reason to assume that πάλιν is a scribal addition, with Attridge,
Hebrews, 91 n. 135, but we are not then forced to assume two completely independent
statements of Christ here either, as Attridge seems to hold. It can be glossed sometimes as
“further,” rather than as “again.” See the common usage of ‫ תוב‬in Syriac, a reflection of the
Greek πάλιν in this very sense. See also Barn. 5:13–14, where the two verses cited with καὶ
πάλιν λέγει between them add up to a single argument.
is hope because of the flesh and blood connection of the incarnate Christ with
the brothers and sisters, the children, which is the message of the entire homily.
For an example of the sort of midrashic reading that I am suggesting, using
the same verses but taking them in a completely different direction, let me
offer:
This is what King Ahaz reasoned: If there are no children, there are no
students; if there are no students, there are no sages; if there are no sages,
there is no Torah, and if there is no Torah, there will be no synagogues
or houses of study, and if there are no synagogues or study houses, the
Holy Blessed One will not cause his Shekhina to dwell in the world. What
did Ahaz do? He locked up the synagogues and the houses of study, and
this is what is written: “Seal the witness, seal up the Torah in my studies
[= Houses of study; cf. Midrash for House of Study]” [Isa 8: 16]. Rabbi
Hunia in the name of Rabbi Lazarus: Why is he called Ahaz [= seized]?
Because he seized the synagogues and houses of study. Rabbi Ya’aqov in
the name of Rabbi Aha: Couldn’t you have learned [lit. heard] this point
from this: “And I waited for the Lord who hides his face from the house
of Jacob, and I hope for him” [Isa 8:17]. There is no harder hour than the
hour in which it is said, “I will surely hide my face on that day” [Deut
31:17]; from that very hour I have hoped for him, for it [the Torah] will not
be forgotten from the mouth of his seed” [Deut 31: 21]. What good did it
do? “Behold I and the children whom God has given me” [Isa 8:18]. Were
they his children? No, they were his disciples. From here we learn that the
disciples of a man are called his children. (Leviticus Rabba Shmini, 11:7)17
The particular use to which these verses are put in Hebrews is entirely differ-
ent from that of the midrash here, but note the local similarities. Although
the verses are being quite wrenched out of context in both cases, in each the
sequence of verses is (ex hypothesi) being read to make sense. And the sense
17 ‫ ואם אין חכמים אין‬,‫ ואם אין תלמידים אין חכמים‬,‫כך אמ׳ אחז אם אין קטנים אין תלמידים‬
‫ אם אין בתי כניסיות ובתי מדרשות אין‬,‫ ואם אין תורה אין בתי כניסיות ובתי מדרשות‬,‫תורה‬
‫ הה״ד צור‬,‫ עמד ונעל בתי כניסיות ובתי מדרשות‬,‫ מה עשה‬.‫הקב״ה משרה שכינתו בעולם‬
‫ על‬,‫ ר׳ חוניה בש׳ ר׳ לעזר למה נקרא שמו אחז‬.)‫ טז‬,‫תעודה חתום תורה בלימודי (ישעיה ח‬
‫ ר׳ יעקב בעיי בש׳ ר׳ אחא שמעת לה מן הדא וחכיתי‬.‫שום שאחז בתי כניסיות ובתי מדרשות‬
‫ אין לך שעה קשה כאותה שעה‬.)‫ יז‬/‫ישעיהו ח׳‬/ ‫לי״י המסתיר פניו מבית יעקב וקיויתי לו (שם‬
‫ כי לא‬,‫ מאותה שעה קויתי לו‬.)‫ יח‬,‫שכת׳ בו ואנכי הסתר אסתיר פני ביום ההוא (דברים לא‬
‫ הנה אנכי והילדים אשר נתן לי י״י (ישעיה‬,‫ מה הועיל‬.)‫ כא‬/‫דברים ל״א‬/ ‫תשכח מפי זרעו (שם‬
.‫ אלא מיכן שתלמידו שלאדם נקרא בנו‬,‫ וכי ילדיו היו והלא תלמידיו היו‬.)‫ יח‬,‫ח‬
22 Boyarin
is not entirely different either: the hope in a time of divine disfavor is that the
children will be redeemed, in one case those children are the disciples of the
Prophet, in the other they are the humans redeemed by Christ because they
are flesh of his flesh, as children and brothers. While emphasizing the trial bal-
loon nature of this interpretation, I hope it opens up some new directions of
thought regarding the difficult passage in Hebrews, which still lacks a full and
satisfying interpretation.18 This perspective may prove even more fruitful with
regard to another case of clear midrash in Hebrews.
Interpreting the Midrash on Psalm 95
The homily on Psalm 95 in Heb 3–4 is midrash, as Harold Attridge, Luke Timothy
Johnson, and William Lane clearly recognize.19 As a scholar of midrash, I hope
here to draw out that insight more richly than New Testament critics have been
able to do.
I want first to focus on the midrashic function of the word “today” in this
midrash. Let me begin by quoting the relevant verses from the epistle:
Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not
harden your hearts as in the rebellion, on the day of testing in the wil-
derness, where your fathers tested with scrutiny and saw my works for
forty years. Therefore, I was angered at this generation, and I said, ‘They
are always going astray in their heart; therefore they have not known my
ways. So I swore in my wrath, ‘They shall not enter into my rest.’ ” See to
it, brothers and sisters, that there is not in any of you unbelieving wicked,
faithless, by deserting the living God, but keep exhorting one another
each day, as long as it is called “today,” lest that any of you become hard-
ened by the deceit of sin. For we have become partakers of Christ, if we
hold firm to the initial reality unto the end. As it is said [Attridge: (exhort)
by saying], “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as in
the rebellion.” For who heard and rebelled? Was it not all those who came
out of Egypt through Moses? With whom was he angered forty years?
Was it not with those who sinned, whose limbs fell in the wilderness? To
18 See Friedrich Doormann, “ ‘Deinen Namen will ich meinen Brüdern verkünden’ (Hebr
2,11–13),” Bibel und Leben 4 (1963): 245–52, for evidence of this claim.
19 Attridge, Hebrews, 104; Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (NTL; Louisville,
Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2006), 126; William L. Lane, Hebrews (2 vols.; WBC; Dallas:
Word Books, 1991), 1:83.
whom did he swear that they would not enter his rest, except those who
were disobedient? So we see that it was because of their faithlessness that
they were not able to enter. (Heb 3:7–19 Attridge; very slightly modified)
Standard commentaries give fairly neutral interpretations to v. 13, “But exhort

one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” so that none of you may be
hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.” So F. F. Bruce: “While this time lasts, each
succeeding day is a fresh ‘To-day’ in which they may heed the psalmist’s warn-
ing to hear the voice of God,” hardly rendering much sense at all to “as long as it
is called ‘today.’ ”20 Attridge’s comment comes closer to the force of “today” for
this midrash: “The comment continues to echo the words of the psalm, indicat-
ing that this exhortation should take place each day, that is, while the ‘today’
of the scripture is spoken of as a present reality.”21 Lane sharpens the point
further, emphasizing the qualitative point of “today”: “The danger of apostasy
and sin persists so long as the moment of demand and opportunity, which is
called ‘Today,’ is valid.”22 Lane’s reading can be strongly supported by appeal
to midrashic usage and to a parallel. In good midrashic form, “as long as it is
called ‘today’ ” is a shorthand for the verse as a whole. “Today” becomes a coded
reference for obeying the word of God as a sort of synecdoche of the verse,
yielding the following sense: But exhort one another every day, as long as it is
called “today” (i.e., a day in which you hear the voice of the Lord), so that none
of you may be hardened (as at Kadesh) by the deceitfulness of sin, the sequel
to the verse. A day in which the faithful are indeed faithful is the day known as
“Today.” Those Israelites who were unfaithful at Kadesh were not able to enter
into the “rest,” but those who will make it a “today when you hear my voice” will
enter into my rest. In my view, this midrash-style reading of the verse renders it
a much stronger and more vivid moment in the homily as a whole.
A lovely parallel to this reading of the verse comes from a considerably later
rabbinic text. In this remarkable text, according to the Babylonian Talmud, the
Messiah himself has given this midrashic reading to “Today,” as an allusion to
the whole clause of the verse.
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi encountered Elijah the Prophet standing at the
grave of Rabbi Shimʿon ben Yohai. He asked him, “Will I enter the next
world?” He said to him, “If this master [R. Shimʿon] desires it.” He said
20 F. F. Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990).
21 Attridge, Hebrews, 117.
22 Lane, Hebrews, 1:87.
24 Boyarin
to him, “The two [of us] I have seen; the voice of the third [R. Shim’on] I
have not heard.” [That is to say, I haven’t received my answer].
He said to him [Elijah], “When will the Messiah come?” He replied to
him, “Go ask him himself!”
“Where does he sit?”
“At the gate of Rome.”
“And what is his sign [by which I will recognize him]?”
“He sits among the poor suffering from diseases and all of them loosen
and tighten all their bandages at one time, and he, loosens one and tight-
ens it [then another and another], saying ‘perhaps I will be required and
this way I won’t delay.’ ”
He [Yehoshua] went to him [Messiah] and said to him, “Peace be with
you my master and teacher.”
He said to him, “Peace be with you, Son of Levi.”
He said to him, “When will the master come?”
He said to him, “Today!”
He [Yehoshua] came to Elijah, who asked him, “What did he say to
you?”
He said to him, “Peace be with you, son of Levi.”
He [Elijah] said, “I promise you that you and your father will come into
the next world.”
He [Yehoshua] said, “However he lied to me, for he said today I will
come, and he has not come.”
He said to him, “This is to what he referred, ‘Today if you will hear my
voice.’ ” (b. Sanh. 98a)
On the day when the people will be obedient to God, on that day, known as
“Today,” the redemption will come. The use of the allusion to “today” is pre-
cisely the same in these otherwise quite different texts. One word, “today,” is
used as an allusion to the verse that reads, “Today if you will hear my voice,”
and in both cases it is employed in the messianic context. I am not ascrib-
ing the slightest chance of influence in either direction vis-à-vis the particular,
but the strategy of using the single word as synecdoche for the verse seems to
mark strongly the connection of our author of Hebrews to midrashic styles of
thinking about verses. It thus also helps us to antedate those styles of think-
ing themselves to their attestation within rabbinic texts from the third century
and later. “But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ so
that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” is a midrashic
paraphrase of that verse, which interpreted means, “exhort one another every
day, ‘if [it is called] today, you will listen to my voice,’ lest any of you may be
hardened by the deceitfulness of sin [as in the rebellion].”
Moving on to the second part of this homily, we see other midrashic pat-
ternings at work:
Let us fear, therefore, lest, with a promise to enter his rest left open, any
one of you might be deemed to have fallen short. For indeed we have
received the good news as did they, but the word heard did not benefit
those people, since they were not united in faith with those who have
listened. For we who have come to believe are entering the rest as he has
said, “so I swore in my wrath, ‘they shall not enter into my rest,’ ” even
though “the works” were accomplished from the foundation of the world.
For he has spoken somewhere concerning the seventh day thus, “And
God rested on the seventh day from all his works”; and again in this “They
shall not enter my rest.”
Now since it remains for some to enter into it, and those who formerly
received the good news did not enter because of disobedience, he again
designates a certain day, “today,” speaking through David a long time later,
as was said before “Today if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.”
Now if Joshua had given them rest, he would not be speaking about
another day thereafter. Therefore, a Sabbath observance remains for the
people of God. For the one who enters his rest has himself rested from his
works just as God rested from God’s own works. Let us strive, therefore, to
enter into that rest, so that no one may fall in the same type of disobedi-
ence. (Heb 4:1–11; Attridge)
Perhaps I have missed it, but sufficient emphasis on the fact that Psalm 95 is
itself a homily seems to be lacking in the hermeneutical tradition. The congre-
gation listening to this psalm is being exhorted not to behave as their ances-
tors did in the desert at Kadesh, lest the same fate befall them. The author
of Hebrews simply builds his homily on the logic of the homily in the psalm,
which thus refers to two times, one ancient and one contemporary. “Today if
you hear my voice” refers to the time of the homilist of the psalm, the Holy
Spirit, speaking through David: He is our God and we are his flock, if today you
will hear his voice. Since that time, the time of the psalm, is not defined histori-
cally, the homilist behind Hebrews reads it, entirely legitimately, as being for
all time; he continues as in the Talmud, with the figura of “today” being itself
not temporal but tropological, signifying obedience or faith. Before the hom-
ilist says anything more, it is already clear that the rest referred to in the psalm
cannot be the rest in the Holy Land denied the faithless at Kadesh (for that had
been taken care of long before David) but must signify some other rest, still
open, still pending, and thus still losable for the addressees of the Holy Spirit
in the homily in the psalm. So far we have just plain good close reading on the
26 Boyarin
part of the Hebrews author. I thus somewhat disagree here with Attridge, who
explicates: “It remains for some to enter God’s ‘rest’ and the previous recipients
of the promise failed to do so because of disobedience (v. 6). God then set
another date for the fulfillment, the ‘today’ of the psalm (v. 7). This offer defini-
tively proves that the promise was not realized by Joshua (v. 8) and it remains
open for those who currently hear the psalm to join in the festive sabbath rest
that god enjoys (vv. 9–10).”23 This interpretation may not capture the subtle-
ties of the hermeneutics, which emphasize that the psalmist himself, already
a homilist, is drawing an analogy from the generation of the desert to the pres-
ent generation of all time: they failed to enter into the rest of their time, the
promised land, owing to their disobedience, but you may yet achieve the rest
promised you, if it is “today,” the forever day in which you hear my voice. Had
the “rest” of the psalm been the rest into which the next generation of Israelites
did enter, namely the promised land, then there would remain no rest for the
psalmist to be promising or threatening could be denied. I emphasize again
this is in some non-trivial way the simple meaning of the psalm.
In other words, that the rest is still open is evident not from the nature of
the rest, pace Attridge, but from the psalm itself. What is then this rest that the
psalmist warns about and promises, since palpably it is not the rest achieved
by Joshua? And now comes the midrashic moment. The homilist wishes to
propose an anagogical meaning, building on the tropological meaning already
exposed. The “rest” in question cannot be the physical rest of being in the land
already shown and thus must signify something else.
The answer to this exegetical question is found through midrashic means. All
the commentators I am consulting correctly identify the passage as midrash,
but none of them get the midrash quite right. This midrash is neither the fairly
arcane gezera shava, nor the rara avis of resolving a contradiction between two
verses by citing a third, nor surely the “midrash pesher,” an avis so rara that no
one has ever seen one either in captivity or in the wild. What we have here is
midrash simplex, the interpretation of Bible by Bible, the reading of the Bible
as one giant literary context.
An apparent oddity in the terminology provides the key to reading this pas-
sage as midrash. Hebrews 4:4–5 reads, “For in one place it speaks about the sev-
enth day as follows, ‘And God rested on the seventh day from all his works.’ And
again in this place it says, ‘They shall not enter my rest.’ ” The term “one place”
[που] used here is passing strange. Attridge compares it, appropriately enough,
to similar indefinite usages in Philo and glosses it as “probably reflect[ing] a
common homiletic practice, whereby the expositor does not dwell on what is

commonly known or presupposed.”24 I would suggest that this usage is simply

a reflection of a very common midrashic formula and, pace Attridge, far from
suggesting that the matter is commonly known or presupposed, it indicates
the major hermeneutical point to be made. Verses are frequently cited in the
midrash as “places.” The Hebrew term is ‫במקום אחד‬, “in one place,” that is, in
one verse that will now be compared with another verse to make a point, the
point that the midrashist wants to make about the verses and their meaning.
Frequently, we find in early midrash the expression ‫ במקומות הרבה‬meaning in
several verses.25
An example of the usage appears in Sifra:
“On the tenth of the month, you shall afflict your souls”: It could [mean]
that he shall sit in the sun and in the cold in order to suffer, a verse
teaches, “And you shall not do any labor.” I have forbidden you labor in
another place and I have forbidden you affliction in another place. Just as
the labor that I have forbidden you in another place is labor that obligates
one for extirpation, so the affliction that I have forbidden you in another
place is affliction that obligates one extirpation.26
“Another place” here simply means another unspecified verse somewhere in

Torah; in Greek one might very well say: pou. The expression even appears as a
specific technical term:
Hillel the Elder taught seven canons [of biblical interpretation] before the
Elders of Beteyra: a fortiori, verbal analogy, two [contradictory] verses,
the general and the particular, and the appearance of a similar matter in
another place, and something that is clarified by its context. These are the
seven canons that Hillel taught before the Elders of Beteyra.27

25 Boyarin, Intertextuality, 81, which discusses a passage from the Mekhilta, in which Rabbi
Yehuda comments on Exod 14:19 that the passage is enriched “from many places,” refer-
ring to other scriptural texts.
26 Sifra, Parashah After the Death of Pharaoh, Pereq 7:
‫בעשור לחדש תענו את נפשותיכם יכול ישב לו בחמה ובצינה כדי שיצטער ת״ל וכל מלאכה‬
‫לא תעשו אסרתי לך במקום אחר מלאכה ואסרתי לך במקום אחר עינוי מה מלאכה אסרתי לך‬
‫עינוי שאסרתי לך במקום אחר עינוי שחייבים כרת‬: ‫במקום אחר מלאכה שחייבים עליה כרת אף‬
27 Sifra, Beraita deRabbi Ishmael, Parashah 1, Pereq 1.8:
‫הלל הזקן דרש שבע מדות לפני זקני בתירה קל וחומר וגזרה שוה ושני כתובים וכלל ופרט‬
‫למד מענינו אלו שבע מדות שדרש הלל הזקן לפני זקני בתירה‬: ‫וכיוצא בו במקום אחר ודבר‬
28 Boyarin
In other words, the phrase “in another place,” i.e., “somewhere else,” is used to
refer to a verse the context of which is not specified.
Our Jewish Jesus-following midrashist wishes to explain what “my rest”
could be, since it is clearly not the geophysical rest of entry into Palestine. The
speaker of the psalm is, as it were, God through the Holy Spirit. There is also
nothing at all unusual in this understanding when read from a Jewish perspec-
tive. Midrash constantly refers to a “he” who is the speaker of the Bible: “He
says,” “And he says,” and “also (= πάλιν) he says” [‫ ]ושוב הוא אומר‬are commonly
found in the context of citations of verses in midrash. If God is claiming a “rest”
that is his, where do we find that rest? The passage almost demands a reading
as the Sabbath, the Sabbath that belongs to God, thus the heavenly Sabbath. In
order to make that point, the author of Hebrews simply cites a verse in which
it is claimed that God has a Sabbath, a day of rest—in Exod 20:11 we read, “For
six days, God made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them,
and God rested on the seventh day; therefore God blessed the seventh day
and made it holy.” The use of πάλιν (“again”) here is once again garden-variety
midrashic terminology for this simple kind of interpretation of one passage by
citation of another—or even a later part of the same—verse. The point is that
the second (and third and fourth etc.) citations with πάλιν collectively illumi-
nate the hermeneutical question raised by the first verse cited. Although one
could erroneously suppose that here πάλιν is used because he is returning to
a verse already cited, Hebrews 1:5 and 2:12–13 demonstrate conclusively that it
is indeed the midrashic form and formula being employed and deployed with
a hermeneutic conclusion. The interpreter argues that it is into that rest that
the psalmist, long after the desert days, encourages his congregation to enter,
and he warns them of the consequences of behaving like that long-ago desert
generation of rebels. He says to his audience: do not make it another day of
rebellion in which you will, once again, be denied entry into God’s Sabbath, as
they were denied entry into the land, but make sure it is a “Today, if you obey
his voice” and thus a time of redemption.
The rabbis gave an eschatological reading to the rest in this verse and to
Sabbath altogether. As Attridge has mentioned, and Lane also emphasized,
“over the course of time a distinctly eschatological concept of rest developed,
presumably through synagogue preaching and school debate.”28 Perhaps the
most poignant of these school debates is the following, from the Talmud
[Sanh. 97a]:
Interestingly, it seems possible that it was specifically in the school of Rabbi Akiva that
this terminology was most used, but that is a study for another place.
28 See Attridge, Hebrews, 125–29, and Lane, Hebrews, 1:98.
Said Rav Katina: “The world exists for six thousand years and then one
thousand of desolation as it says, ‘And on that day, God will be exalted
alone’ [Isa 2:11].” Abbaye said, “two thousand years it will be desolate, for
it says, ‘He will make us live after [two] days; on the third day, he will res-
urrect us, and we will live before him’ [Hos 6:2].” There is an early author-
ity that supports the view of Rav Katina, “Just as the seventh year makes
the land fallow for one year in seven, thus the world lies fallow for one
thousand in seven thousand years, for is said ‘And on that day, God will be
exalted alone’ [Isa 2:11]. And he says, ‘A psalm, a song for the Sabbath day’
[Ps 92:1], the day that is entirely Sabbath! And he says, ‘For a thousand
years in your eyes are as a yesterday, for it will pass’ [Ps 90:4].”
Conclusion
Translated into Greek and without the typical trappings of debate, that early
tradition cited could almost be from the Epistle to the Hebrews. Note the catena-
like citation of several verses, but also that this citation is not just a catena but
also an argument made through these citations. For the homily of Hebrews as
well, I wouldn’t dream of thinking of a rabbinic “background” or even of so-
called Jewish influence. I would rather see the epistle as a Jewish text, a homily
presumably closely related to other Jewish homilies of the time in style and to
a great extent, in content as well—with a twist, of course, a fateful twist [but
not a whole new martini, as it were].
This very preliminary study should be seen as a partial propaedeutic for a
renewed study of the Jewish context of the Christology of Hebrews. Perhaps
we ought also to be allowing into the theorized genealogy of Hebrews some
deeper and wider connections with the hermeneutical resources from which
Palestinian midrash developed. Hebrews may provide exciting evidence for
the existence of midrashic forms earlier than any attestations in Palestinian
Hebrew literature. The payoff here is double and mutual. There is gain for New
Testament interpretation insofar as this comparison makes possible a more
precise understanding of the homily in Hebrews and explains some otherwise
strange-seeming usages and forms as part and parcel of more general Jewish
hermeneutical practice at the time. The gain for the study of those Jewish
practices is if anything even more exciting as this analysis joins other evidence
from the New Testament that helps us to show that hermeneutic practices that
we might have thought of as particularly rabbinic (and thus at least a century
later than Hebrews) were already extant in the first century as a terminus ante
quem and thus demonstrably not rabbinic in origin.
30 Boyarin
Bibliography
Commentaries on Hebrews
Attridge, Harold W. Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. Hermeneia.
Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989.
Bruce, F. F. The Epistle to the Hebrews. New International Commentary on the New
Testament. Revised edition. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990.
Johnson, Luke Timothy. Hebrews: A Commentary. New Testament Library. Louisville,
Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2006.
Koester, Craig R. Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary.
Anchor Bible 36. New York: Doubleday, 2001.
Lane, William L. Hebrews. Word Biblical Commentary. 2 vols. Dallas: Word Books, 1991.
Other Literature
Boyarin, Daniel. Intertextuality and the Reading of Midrash. Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1990.
———. “Is Metatron a Converted Christian?” Judaïsme Ancien—Ancient Judaism 1
(2013): 13–62.
———. “Once Again: ‘Two Dominions in Heaven’ in the Mekhilta” [in Hebrew]. Tarbiz
81 (2013): 87–101.
Doormann, Friedrich. “ ‘Deinen Namen will ich meinen Brüdern verkünden’ (Hebr
2,11–13).” Bibel und Leben 4 (1963): 245–52.
Dunsky, Shimshon, ed. Song of Songs Rabbah. Tel-Aviv: Dvir, 1980.
Koltun-Fromm, Naomi. “Psalm 22’s Christological Interpretive Tradition in Light of
Christian Anti-Jewish Polemic.” Journal of Early Christian Studies 6 (Spring 1998):
37–57.
Lane, William R. “A New Commentary Structure in 4Q Florilegium.” Journal of Biblical
Literature 78 (December 1959): 343–46.
Schröger, Friedrich. Der Verfasser des Hebräerbriefes als Schriftausleger. Biblische
Untersuchungen 4. Regensburg: Pustet, 1968.
Segal, Alan F. Two Powers in Heaven: Early Rabbinic Reports about Christianity and
Gnosticism. Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity 25. Leiden: Brill, 1977.
Yadin, Y. “A Midrash on 2 Sam. Vii and Ps. i-ii (4Q Florilegium).” Israel Exploration
Journal 9, no. 2 (1959): 95–98.
Jewish and Christian Theology from the
Hebrew Bible: The Concept of Rest and Temple in
the Targumim, Hebrews, and the Old Testament*
Daniel E. Kim
Introduction
Writing in 1959, George Caird recorded that Hebrews’ interpretation of Old

Testament scripture was thought so “far-fetched” that the connection could
not have any relevance or interest for modern scholars.1 He noted that Hebrews
was often compared instead to Philo and the “Alexandrian” school and to
Gnosticism.2 Since Caird, however, scholars have been prompted to examine
Hebrews via new lines of investigation.3 While many connections to Philo
remain, and more are bound to be found, some scholars have gone beyond this
comparison, noting that there are “sharp differences between Hebrews and
Philo in their respective handling of the Old Testament.”4
One exciting and fruitful avenue of inquiry has been to set Hebrews against
a Jewish backdrop, comparing Hebrews’ Old Testament exegesis with mate-
rial produced by different branches of Judaism. Terms such as “rabbinic” and
“midrash” have come to the fore.5 These parallels to Judaism now offer scholars
explanation of a relationship that was earlier understood to be fanciful and
“far-fetched.”
* I dedicate this work to my wife, Catherine.

1 George B. Caird, “The Exegetical Method of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” CJT 5 (1959): 44. For
the use of “far-fetched” Caird cites William Neil, The Epistle to the Hebrews (London: SCM,
1955), 22 (actually 23).
2 Caird, “Exegetical Method,” 44.
3 For a thorough and concise summary of these methods, see George H. Guthrie, “Hebrews’
Use of the Old Testament: Recent Trends in Research,” CBR 1 (2003): 271–94.
4 Guthrie, “Hebrews’ Use of the Old Testament,” 277.
5 Cf. David Flusser, “ ‘Today If You Will Listen to His Voice’: Creative Jewish Exegesis in Hebrews
3–4,” in Creative Biblical Exegesis: Christian and Jewish Hermeneutics through the Centuries
(ed. Benjamin Uffenheimer and Henning G. Reventlow; JSOTSup 59; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic, 1988), 55–62; Guthrie, “Hebrews’ Use of the Old Testament,” 279; Harold W.
Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermenia; Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1989), 104; and Paul Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the
Greek Text (NIGTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 194.

32 Kim
Since strong connections between Hebrews and Judaism appear to exist,

one is left to wonder whether Hebrews could have any ties to the Targumim.
As scholars have observed, the textual landscape of Hebrews is sparsely dot-
ted with impressions of the Targumim. Briefly, some examples: (1) the author’s
understanding of God’s people as God’s “house” in Heb 3:6 has been linked
with Tg. Onq. Num 12:7,6 (2) Heb 7:1 may be dependent on Tg. Ps.-J Gen
14:18, where Targum Pseudo-Jonathan is the only attested record of the way
Hebrews depicts Melchizedek coming out to meet Abram (instead of the
king of Sodom),7 and (3) the quotation of Deut 32:35 in Heb 10:30 agrees more
closely with the Targumim than with the Septuagint or the Masoretic Text.8 To
these examples I add another, in the hope that yet more connections might
be sought between Hebrews and the Targumim. To accomplish this task, this
present study will (1) examine the structure of Heb 3 and 4, which will in turn
reveal a structural problem; (2) proceed then to consider Tg. Ps 95 to gain help-
ful insight into this problem; (3) explore other parts of the Targumim relating
to similar themes; and (4) conclude with a brief glance at the Old Testament
and texts of the Ancient Near East to confirm the final analysis.
Hebrews 3:1–4:16
Hebrews 3:7–4:16 has been the source of weighty discussion about the author’s
use of Psalm 95.9 While this study does not attempt to answer the questions
raised by those who scrutinize Psalm 95 in the author’s exposition following
the citation, it throws new light on the matter via the Targumim. We begin by
looking briefly at the structure of Heb 3:1–4:16.
At the start of ch. 3, both the idea of the believer’s identification with Christ
and the idea of Christ as the high priest are present, as they are also imme-
6
Cf. Craig R. Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary
(AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001), 245, and William L. Lane, Hebrews 1–8 (WBC 47A; Dallas:
Word, 1991), 78.
7 Martin McNamara, “Melchizedek: Gen 14,17–20 in the Targums, in Rabbinic and Early
Christian Literature,” Bib 81 (2000): 21.
8 Except for the Fragment Targum, which remains closer to the Masoretic Text. Cf. John
Proctor, “Judgement or Vindication: Deuteronomy 32 in Hebrews 10:30,” TynBul 55 (2004):
75–78.
9 See Otfried Hofius, Katapausis: Die Vorstellung vom endzeitlichen Ruheort im Hebräerbrief
(WUNT 11; Tübingen: Mohr, 1970); Jon Laansma, “I Will Give You Rest”: The “Rest” Motif in the
New Testament with Special Reference to Mt 11 and Heb 3–4 (WUNT 98; Tübingen: Mohr, 1997);
and Flusser, “Creative Jewish Exegesis,” 55–62.
Jewish and Christian Theology from the Hebrew Bible 33
diately prior, in ch. 2. However, a new theme emerges in ch. 3: the contrast
between Moses and Jesus on the basis of their relationship to the “house.” Jesus
is worthy of more honor than Moses due to the fact that Moses was a faithful
servant (θεράπων) in all the house (ἐν ὅλῳ τῷ οἴκῳ) whereas Christ was faithful
as a son over the house (υἱὸς ἐπὶ τὸν οἶκον).
The servant language of Moses employed here by the author was generally
used to denote a “servant of God,” but more specifically it was also used to refer
to “one who ministered in the Temple or ‘house’ of God.”10 Moreover, in Heb 3:5
(“Now Moses was faithful in all God’s house as a servant”) the author alludes to
Num 12:7 (“Not so with my servant Moses; he is entrusted with all my house”).
The context of Num 12:7 is the “tent of meeting” (‫)אהל מועד‬. Given both the
servant language used of Moses and the context of Num 12:7, an image of a
“sanctuary” is now also plausible in Heb 3:1–6.11 This imagery of a sanctuary is
strengthened when coupled with the theme of Christ as high priest.12
The author is then quick to identify that believers are God’s “house” (οὗ οἶκός
ἐσμεν ἡμεῖς) in Heb 3:6. Yet being “his house” is contingent upon the endurance
of the believer’s faith. Or as the homilist puts it: “if we hold firm the confidence
and the pride that belong to hope” (ἐάν[περ] τὴν παρρησίαν καὶ τὸ καύχημα τῆς
ἐλπίδος κατάσχωμεν; Heb 3:6).
On the surface, it seems that only this last exhortation to “hold fast” con-
nects 3:1–6 to the citation of Psalm 95 starting at 3:7.13 Psalm 95 is used here
as an admonition, as it cautions the readers, “do not harden your hearts.”
Interestingly, there is no mention of “house,” and instead Psalm 95 deals with
entrance into God’s “rest” (LXX: κατάπαυσίν μου = MT: ‫)מנוחתי‬. There is also no
mention of a temple or a sanctuary, images that lie behind Heb 3:1–6. Despite
these absences, after the citation, the author continues the admonition: “For
we have become partners of Christ, if only we hold our first confidence firm to
the end” (μέτοχοι γὰρ τοῦ Χριστοῦ γεγόναμεν, ἐάνπερ τὴν ἀρχὴν τῆς ὑποστάσεως
μέχρι τέλους βεβαίαν κατάσχωμεν; Heb 3:14).
Here the author repeats the idea of “holding firm” (κατάσχωμεν), and imme-
diately following this second admonition in v. 14, the first line of the Psalm 95
citation is refreshed, in v. 15. The repetition of both κατάσχωμεν and the cita-
tion makes clear that the warning in 3:14 runs in parallel to the warning given
10 Koester, Hebrews, 246.

11 Koester, Hebrews, 245–47.
12 Cf. Albert Vanhoye, Old Testament Priests and the New Priest (Petersham, Mass.: St. Bede’s
Publications, 1980), 95–107.
13 Lane (Hebrews 1–8, 83) states that v. 6b is transitionary.
34 Kim
prior to the citation in 3:6.14 Furthermore, the idea of being partners (μέτοχοι)
in the second admonition is quite similar to the concept of “being the house”
(οὗ οἶκός ἐσμεν ἡμεῖς) in the first warning, and, more importantly, μέτοχοι15 had
also been used back in 3:1. Commentators note this similarity regarding the
two warnings but generally do not make any association with 3:1–6, perhaps
because it is too thematically divergent.16 Harold Attridge goes one step further
than other commentators, as he keenly observes that in v. 14 the author “picks
up elements of the preceding pericope, combines and reworks them.”17
The context of the second admonition reveals that it is unrelated to the
entrance of the “house,” and instead, with his warning not to forfeit entrance
into God’s “rest,” the author keeps in line with Psalm 95. The series of rhetorical
questions that follows the repeated citation in Heb 3:15 leads ultimately to the
reference in 3:18: “And to whom did he swear that they would not enter his rest,
if not to those who were disobedient?” The verses thereafter are concerned
exclusively with the idea of rest. The idea of “house” subtly disappears from
the discussion. “House” has quietly transformed into “rest,” a process that is
illustrated by this outline, which traces the development of chs. 3–4:
1. Partakers with Christ, the great high priest (3:1)

2. Christ better than Moses as the son over God’s house (sanctuary?)
(3:2–6a)
3. Admonition to remain faithful in order to be the “house” (3:6b–7a)
4. Psalm 95—admonition against hardened hearts, denial of entrance into
“rest” (3:7b–11)
5. Admonition to remain faithful in order to enter God’s “rest” (3:12–19)
6. Promises of rest (4:1–5)
7. Rest as the ultimate Sabbath (4:6–11)
8. The word of God (4:12–13)
9. Christ as the high priest who is able to sympathize (4:14–16)
14 In Heb 3:6, there is a textual variant with κατάσχωμεν. The other reading is μέχρι τέλους
βεβαίαν κατάσχωμεν. These words are identical with the second warning in 3:14, which,
if it is the original, would make the strength of the connection even more apparent.
Moreover, the fact that a textual variant of this kind even exists means that others have
also observed the similarity, whether it be intentional or accidental.
15 μέτοχοι is used almost exclusively by Hebrews in the New Testament corpus, with five out
of the six occurrences in the New Testament.
16 Cf. Attridge, Hebrews, 117; Ellingworth, Epistle to the Hebrews, 211, 225. Both make the
observation that the two warnings are very similar and that there is a parallel connection
between them. However, they mention only the change from being the “house” to “partak-
ers” and say nothing of the transition to “rest.”
Viewed in this way, the succession of ideas in chs. 3–4 is rather loose, and con-
cepts seem to mutate. The only theme that connects Psalm 95 to the texts that
come both before and after its citation is this admonition against unbelief.
Beyond that, two somewhat similar yet distinct ideas emerge: rest and house/
sanctuary. These ideas are different enough for many commentators to orga-
nize their analysis by treating 3:1–6 as its own unit and examining Psalm 95 in
conjunction with 3:12–19.18
There is a problem, however, with isolating 3:1–6 from Psalm 95 and, indeed,
from the exposition that follows Psalm 95. First, as noted above, the warning
from Heb 3:6 is repeated in parallel fashion in 3:14. The repetition of the word
κατάσχωμεν and its position before the repeated citation of Psalm 95 make this
connection unambiguous. Second, an inclusio of concepts is evident in Heb 3:1
and 4:14–16. The whole movement of the two chapters begins and ends with
Christ as the high priest, with whom we are partakers (and therefore he can
“sympathize” with us) and whose confession we need to hold fast:
Therefore, brothers and sisters, holy partners in a heavenly calling, con-

sider that Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession,
Ὅθεν, ἀδελφοὶ ἅγιοι, κλήσεως ἐπουρανίου μέτοχοι, κατανοήσατε τὸν
ἀπόστολον καὶ ἀρχιερέα τῆς ὁμολογίας ἡμῶν Ἰησοῦν, (Heb 3:1)
and
Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heav-
ens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. For we do not
have a high priest who is unable to sympathize (suffer) with our weak-
nesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are,
yet without sin.
Ἔχοντες οὖν ἀρχιερέα μέγαν διεληλυθότα τοὺς οὐρανούς, Ἰησοῦν τὸν υἱὸν τοῦ
θεοῦ, κρατῶμεν τῆς ὁμολογίας. οὐ γὰρ ἔχομεν ἀρχιερέα μὴ δυνάμενον
18 Cf. Attridge, Hebrews; Ellingworth, Epistle to the Hebrews, 194–212; Koester, Hebrews, 242–
67; and Lane, Hebrews 1–8, 70–91. Beyond commentaries, see also Gerhard von Rad, “There
Remains Still a Rest for the People of God,” in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other
Essays (trans. E. W. Trueman Dicken; Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1965), 99; Peter Enns,
“The Interpretation of Psalm 95 in Hebrews 3:1–4:13,” in Early Christian Interpretation
of the Scriptures of Israel: Investigations and Proposals (ed. Craig A. Evans and James A.
Sanders; JSNTSup 148; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1997), 352–54. Enns does include
3:1–6 in his analysis, but his concerns are focused mainly on a dual application of the
psalm (Israel/church), and he does not make the observations presented here. However,
Enns’s study only strengthens the observation that Heb 3:1–6 is related to the citation of
Psalm 95 and the passage that follows.
36 Kim
συμπαθῆσαι ταῖς ἀσθενείαις ἡμῶν, πεπειρασμένον δὲ κατὰ πάντα καθ᾿

ὁμοιότητα χωρὶς ἁμαρτίας. (Heb 4:14–15)
If we view the two chapters as one unit, we face the problem of a mutating
concept (from house/sanctuary to rest)—did the author simply adjust this
concept to fit his use of the psalm?—yet segregating 3:1–6 defies the flow and
structure of the argument. The seemingly unconnected ideas and theology
make modern scholars divide the passage. If the theology proves to be unified
in some way, should not the passage be seen as a single piece?
Targum Psalm 95:11
As we consider the Targumim, we must remember their nature. The Targumim

were originally intended to serve as an oral interpretation of the Hebrew texts
that were read aloud in the synagogues. As a running commentary of the
Hebrew scriptures, the Targumim allowed for substantial interpolation, and
can therefore be a unique and helpful resource to uncover theology that may
have been prominent when the interpolation was first recorded. Just how long
before any of the Targumim took their final form the contemporary theology
existed is difficult to determine. What can be said for sure, however, is that the
Targumim went through numerous revisions at various times and in various
places before their final forms were established, and therefore any interpreta-
tion in the Targumim must have had at least some level of authorization to be
included in that final form.
Turning to Tg. Ps 95, we find a slight variation from the Masoretic Text and
Septuagint in the last line of the psalm:
Concerning whom I swore in the strength of my anger that they should

not come into the rest of the house of my sanctuary.19
(Tg. Ps 95:11) ‫דקיימית בתקוף רוגזי אם יעלון לנייח בית מקדשי‬
Therefore in my anger I swore, “They shall not enter my rest.”20

(MT Ps 95:11) ‫אשר נשבעתי באפי אם יבאון אל מנוחתי‬
19 David M. Stec, The Targum of Psalms (The Aramaic Bible 16; London: T&T Clark, 2004),
179. For all Targum quotations, italics indicate points of variation from the Masoretic Text
supplied by the translator.
20 ‫“( אם‬if”) can be used in oath formulas, and in such instances, even when standing on
its own without a qualifiying particle such as ‫ אל‬or ‫כי‬, ‫ אם‬can reflect a positive clause
(“surely they will”) or a negative clause (“they shall not”). Context suggests the latter in
Therefore, I swore in my anger, “they shall not enter my rest.”21

ὡς ὤμοσα ἐν τῇ ὀργῇ μου εἰ εἰσελεύσονται εἰς τὴν κατάπαυσίν μου. (LXX Ps
94:11)
On its own, the addition by the Targumist seems to be a very minor varia-
tion and a simple explanation of “rest.” What is rest? It is the “house of God’s
sanctuary.” When contrasted with the issue at hand in Hebrews, however, this
seemingly unimportant interpolation reveals a significant development in the-
ology: ideas are conflated to produce one complex idea, that is, the concept of
“rest” has been combined with the “house of God’s sanctuary.” Amongst those
who have examined Psalm 95 in Heb 3:7–11, only Otfried Hofius mentions the
Targum’s rendering, but his brief reference does not see any correlation with
3:1–6.22
In the case of Hebrews, then, the author was not inventing something new,
nor was his Old Testament exegesis “far-fetched.” Our author may not have
even been intentional in his use of these terms or conscious that such a dis-
tinction would exist. In other words, when the author of Hebrews thought of
the house of God, Psalm 95 might naturally have come to mind, despite the
lack of reference to a house or sanctuary in the Septuagint or the Masoretic
Text, because it was already accepted theology; that lack of a specific reference
probably would not have confused his readers either. The Targumim, therefore,
shed light on the apparent difficulty in Heb 3–4. Hebrews 3:1–6 should not be
isolated from the citation of Psalm 95 and the exposition that follows, and the
author did not simply forget about the house of God and conveniently switch
to using “rest.”
The Targumim
This interweaving of the concepts of rest and house/sanctuary in Tg. Ps 95 is

not an isolated occurrence in the Targumim. As in Tg. Ps 95, the concept of rest
in Tg. Ps 132:8 is expanded by interpolating commentary:
this instance. Cf. Bruce K. Waltke and M. O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew
Syntax (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 679.
21 The use of εἰ in the Septuagint is most likely following ‫ אם‬as a Hebraism.
22 Hofius, Katapausis, 47–48.
38 Kim
Arise O LORD, dwell in the house of the camp of your rest, you and the ark
in which there is your Law.23
(Tg. Ps 132:8) ‫קום יהוה שרי בבית מישרוי נייחך את וארון די ביה אוריתך‬
Rise up, O LORD, and go to your resting place, you and the ark of your
might.
(MT Ps 132:8) ‫קומה יהוה למנוחתך אתה וארון עזך‬
‫ ‏‬oreover, we should note that in v. 3 of Psalm 132, where David is entering his
‎M
own house, the Targumist changes “house” to “wife.” The Targum records “I will
not go in to my wife” instead of “I will not enter (the tent of) my house.” We can
presume that this exchange is made in order to preserve the integrity of the
later change, where God’s “rest” becomes his “house,” so as to avoid any pos-
sible confusion. This further example amplifies the notion that the Targumist
was well aware of and careful about his interpolations regarding “rest” and
“house.”
In Tg. Isa. 28:12, we again have a similar understanding of “rest.” Here, how-
ever, the Targumist goes even further by wholly exchanging the word “rest” for
“the sanctuary.” While Tg. Isa. 28:12 was probably not intended as a means to
promulgate rest-temple theology, in the mind of the Targumist the word “rest”
could apparently be interchanged with “sanctuary/house”:
To whom the prophets were saying, “This is the sanctuary, serve in it;
and this is the heritage of the house of rest;” yet they would not listen to
teaching.24
‫דאמרין להון נבייא דין בית מקדשא פלחו ביה ודא אחסנת בית ניחא ולא אבו‬
(Tg. Isa. 28:12) ‫לקבלא אולפן‬
To whom he has said, “This is rest; give rest to the weary; and this is
repose”; yet they would not hear.
‫אשר אמר אליהם זאת המנוחה הניחו לעיף וזאת המרגעה ולא אבוא שמוע‬
(MT Isa 28:12)
The aforementioned parallel between Heb 3:5–6 and Tg. Onq. Num 12:7 further
strengthens the parallel between Hebrews and the Targumim in their respec-
tive comprehension of “rest/house.” When in Heb 3:6 (οὗ οἶκός ἐσμεν ἡμεῖς,
“whose house we are”) the author of Hebrews explains that the house of God
23 Stec, Targum of Psalms, 227.

24 Bruce D. Chilton, The Isaiah Targum (The Aramaic Bible 11; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987), 55.
consists of God’s people, a significant parallel exists in the Targumim. Hebrews

3:5 alludes to Num 12:7 (“Not so with my servant Moses; he is entrusted with all
my house”). Targum Onqelos Num 12:7 renders this passage, “My servant Moses;
he is trusted by all my people,” switching “household” and “people,” equating
the two.25 Again the author employs theology that was likely already com-
monly accepted and also shows up in the Targumim. However, the author of
Hebrews advances even further. We have established that in the Targumim (a)
God’s people are his house and (b) that “rest” is God’s dwelling place, that is, his
house/sanctuary. By juxtaposing two developing ideas, the author of Hebrews
has provided a single developed thought: God’s rest, which is his house/sanctu-
ary, is composed of his people.
Rest and House in the Old Testament
The concept of rest in the Old Testament is multifaceted and complex, espe-
cially in light of its development through the literary influence of deutero-
nomic and deuteronomistic editors. Our consideration of Hebrews and the
Targumim allows us to focus on the idea of rest within the Old Testament
specifically in light of its relationship to “house/sanctuary.” That approach
makes evident that the combined concept of rest/house is not foreign to Old
Testament scripture and appeared more prominently in Israel’s later literary
periods, particularly in Chronicles.
It is not surprising that this combination of concepts is found in Chronicles,
where it details the building of the Jerusalem temple. In 1 Chr 22, David charges
his son Solomon to build a temple and explains in v. 7 that he “planned to build
a house to the name of the LORD my God” (‫)היה עם לבבי לבנות בית לשם יהוה אלהי‬.
Verse 8 moves on to explain why David has been excluded from building the
temple (“you have shed much blood and have waged great wars”), and in the
following verses Solomon is put forward as the man who is qualified to do so:
See, a son shall be born to you; he shall be a man of peace. I will give him
peace from all his enemies on every side; for his name shall be Solomon,
and I will give peace and quiet to Israel in his days. He shall build a house
for my name. (1 Chr 22:9–10a)
While the idea is not fully developed, an association between the two concepts
of rest and house already exists. Solomon will be a man of rest and God will

40 Kim
grant him rest on every side. After these rest statements, the charge is given to
Solomon to build the house. Immediately following, in 22:17–19, the pairing of
rest and house is repeated, although David is now speaking to the leaders of
Israel. David reminds the leaders that God has given them rest on every side
and now is their time to build a temple for God. Rest and peace appear to be the
prerequisites for the construction of the temple; God’s giving of rest initiates
the people’s response to build a temple, a place of rest. The link between rest
and house is strengthened later, in 23:25, where David states, “The LORD, the
God of Israel, has given rest to his people, and he resides in Jerusalem forever.”
In 1 Chr 28:2, David repeats his earlier charge to Solomon in ch. 22, but this
time in front of a larger audience. He has gathered the higher officials (28:1)
and informs them of the plans to build a temple. His words are recorded as:
Hear me, my brothers and my people. I had planned to build a house of

rest for the ark of the covenant of the LORD, for the footstool of our God.”26
‫שמעוני אחי ועמי אני עם לבבי לבנות בית מנוחה לארון ברית יהוה ולהדם רגלי‬
(1 Chr 28:2) ‫אלהינו‬
These words mirror the statement already made to Solomon in 22:7, but three
points of divergence are especially poignant. First, as commentators have
clearly established, this statement is a much more formal rendition of the prior
statement in 22:7, which is explained by the change of audience.27 Second, the
concept of rest has experienced a direct shift.28 Previously, it was a prereq-
uisite not only that the builder would be a “man of rest” but also that there
would be in the kingdom “rest on every side.” Now, it is the ark that finds its
resting place. With the ark is God’s presence, and his place is now established
with his people in Jerusalem.29 Third, the use of “footstool” (‫)להדם רגלי אלהינו‬
suggests the Chronicler’s dependence on Psalm 132:7 (‫)להדם ורגליו‬.30 Moreover,
Psalm 132 depicts the temple as God’s “resting place” (v. 8). The formal setting,
the shift in the concept of rest, and the dependence on Psalm 132 suggest that
26 Emphasis mine.

27 R. Braun, I Chronicles (WBC 14; Dallas: Word, 1986), 268, 274; See also H. G. M. Williamson,
1 and 2 Chronicles (NCB; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 179, where Williamson notes von
Rad’s categorization of the speech as “A Levitical Sermon.”
28 Braun, I Chronicles, 270.
29 Ibid.
30 Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, 179–180; Williamson also notes that the shift in the mean-
ing of rest confirms that Psalm 132 is in mind.
‫בית מנוחה לארון‬, (“a house of rest for the ark”) in this construct form plus ‫ל‬,
had at this point become a terminus technicus.
Ancient Near East
Is the source of the Old Testament concept of temple and rest as presented
above to be found in its Ancient Near Eastern background? One particular
Akkadian text may be helpful for our purposes: Enuma Elish, which is also
known as the Babylonian Epic of Creation. This creation epic is highly relevant
to our purposes as almost a full two of the seven tablets are devoted to “rest.”31
Moreover, the narrative was to be read out annually—possibly even acted
out—during the New Year festivities of Babylon, as is detailed in an ancient
ritual tablet that gives instructions for a festival during which Enuma Elish was
to be presented on the fourth day.32
Enuma Elish is an Akkadian epic describing the interplay between the gods
in the creation of the world and the struggle for power. The final ascendant is
Marduk (Assur in the Assyrian version), who quells a rebellion by one of the
original creators and mother-god Tiamat. In so doing he captures the other
gods who sided with Tiamat, imprisons them, and forces them to labor. At the
complaint of the imprisoned gods—the Annunaki—Marduk decides to free
them, but only after their representative head, Kingu, is killed and his blood
used to create humankind.33 At this point the story is picked up in tablet VI.
The response of the freed Annunaki, who are released from labor, is given in
lines 48–54:
To Marduk their lord they said,

“Now, Lord, you who have liberated us (šu-bar-ra-ni),
What courtesy may we do you?
We will make a shrine, whose name will be a byword,
Your chamber that shall be our stopping place, we shall find rest (nu-šap-
ši-iḫ) therein.
31 Alexander Heidel, The Babylonian Genesis: The Story of the Creation (2nd ed.; Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1951), 127.
32 Stephanie Dalley, Myths from Mesopotamia: Creation, the Flood, Gilgamesh, and Others
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 231.
33 Interestingly, the name “Kingu” from its Sumerian etymology means “toil, labor,” Cf.
Nancy K. Sandars, Poems of Heaven and Hell from Ancient Mesopotamia (London: Penguin
Books, 1971), 181.
42 Kim
We shall lay out the shrine, let us set up its emplacement,

When we come (to visit you), we shall find rest (nu-šap-šiḫ) therein.”34
Although parallels between Ancient Near Eastern texts and the Old Testament
are not usually explicit and differences can be quite substantial, one can see in
this instance distinct similarities between Enuma Elish and the Old Testament.
In the Nathan Oracle (2 Sam 7:5–16), after Yahweh gave David rest on every
side, David’s response was (to attempt) to build a temple for the one that had
given him rest. In Enuma Elish, the Annunaki who are freed from labor respond
by building a temple that is called a place of “rest.” As noted above, the temple
that Solomon eventually built was a “house of rest” (‫בית מנוחה‬, 1 Chr 28:2) for
God. So both texts convey reciprocity, and that a temple is a resting place for
deities. The Akkadian text states that the Annunaki plan to “sleep” there dur-
ing the Great Festival. We can assume from the text and its ritual context that
this “rest” is not a rest of slumber; we should very likely understand “rest” as
cultic worship. Building the temple and “resting” there is act of homage by the
Annunaki, just as David and those after him do not intend to build a temple
simply as a “house” for their God, but rather as a place where they will go to
worship the Divine.
Using the Targumim
Can one use the Targumim as an aid to understanding early Christian theol-
ogy? In other words, is a search of the Targumim for the independent devel-
opment of Judaic Targumic theology and early Christian theology viable?
One example of a shared tradition of interpretation can be found in one of
Athanasius’s Festal Letters, roughly 240–280 years after Hebrews, depending
on one’s dating of the Epistle. Athanasius appears to have adopted certain
interpretations of scripture that are remarkably consistent with the Jerusalem
34 Enuma Elish, VI 48–54, translated by Benjamin R. Foster (COS 1.111:390–402). While there
are some variations among the translations of this portion of the text, the essential mean-
ing of the temple as a resting place remains the same: The Creation Epic translated by
E. A. Speiser (ANET, 60): “Let us build a shrine whose name shall be called ‘Lo, a chamber
for our nightly rest’; let us repose in it!”; Heidel, Babylonian Genesis, 48: “Come, let us make
(something) whose name shall be called ‘Sanctuary.’ It shall be a dwelling for our rest at
night; come, let us repose therein!”; Dalley, Myths from Mesopotamia, 262: “We would like
to make a shrine with its own name. We would like our night’s resting place to be in your
private quarters, and to rest there. Let us found a shrine, a sanctuary there. Whenever we
arrive, let us rest within it.”
Targum, the Targum known as Pseudo-Jonathan (Tg. Ps.-J), even though by vir-
tue of his date in the fourth century and in a cultural setting removed from the
readers of Targumim, he would not have had any contact with the Targumim.35
In Festal Letter 13, written for the Easter of 341, Athanasius portrays Issachar in
Gen 49:14 in the same way as Tg. Ps.-J Gen 49:14–15:
Issachar is a strong donkey, lying down between the sheepfolds, and he

saw a resting place was good, and the land was pleasant; so he bowed his
shoulder to burden, and became a slave at forced labor. (Gen 49:14–15)
Issachar is loaded with the Law. He is a strong tribe, knowing the deter-
minations of the times; and he lies down between the territories of his
brothers. He saw that the repose of the world to come was good, and that
(his) portion of the land of Israel was pleasant; therefore he bent his shoul-
der to labor in the Law, and his brothers offered him gifts.36 (Tg. Ps.-J Gen
49:14–15)
Now to this the example of Issachar, the patriarch, may persuade, as
the Scripture saith, “Issachar desires that which is good, resting between
the heritages; and when he saw that the rest was good, and the land fer-
tile, he bowed his shoulder to labour, and became a husbandman” . . . he
gathered abundance from the holy Scriptures, for his mind was captivated
not by the old alone, but by both the heritages. And hence as it were,
spreading his wings, he beheld afar off “the rest” which is in heaven, and,—
since this “land” consists of such beautiful works,—how much more truly
the heavenly [country] must also [consist] of such; for the other is ever
new, and grows not old. For this “land” passes away, as the Lord said . . . And
he did not contend with those who smote him, neither was he disturbed
by insults; but like a strong man triumphing the more by these things,
and the more earnestly tilling his land, he received profit from it. The Word
scattered the seed, but he watchfully cultivated it, so that it brought forth
fruit, even a hundred-fold. (Festal Letters 13:5)37
35 While one of the interpretations by Athanasius in the following passage deals with rest
and while his concept of rest does not contrast with what is presented in this study, this
example is being used to illustrate only method and not content. No further understand-
ing of “rest” is intended.
36 Michael Maher, Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis (The Aramaic Bible 1B; T&T Clark,
1992), 159–60.
37 Athanasius, Letters of Athanasius 13:5 (NPNF2 4:1316), emphasis mine.
44 Kim
Two aspects of Gen 49:14–15 are thus picked up in similar fashion in the
Targumim and Athanasius. Referring to this very phenomenon, James Ernest
states that there was “an interpretation in the Jerusalem Targum that the
‘rest’ meant the world to come and the ‘inheritance’ was the law. Of course,
the Targum was not available to Athanasius, but the same line of interpreta-
tion seems to have entered the Christian tradition.”38 This example therefore
illustrates the ideological overlap between two distinct traditions. Were it not
for the Targumim, we would have been left to wonder how or why Athanasius
understood this passage in this manner.
Conclusion
The Ancient Near East has given us a context for an understanding of rest that
sees one’s home as one’s place of rest. The resting place of the gods was quite
simply their home, that is, the temple. This understanding persisted into Old
Testament times and permeated the cultural milieu, for the temple seems
commonly to have been understood as a place of rest. And an associated act
of reciprocation can be identified: in return for receiving rest, one provides in
turn for the gods.
Subsequently this combined concept in which rest was understood as house/
temple found its way into both Jewish and Christian theology. The author of
Hebrews could look through two hermeneutical lenses at once: he could view
Old Testament scripture in line with Jewish tradition and in light of Christ. As
long as the picture he saw was not dissonant, it was natural for him to employ
the lens provided by Jewish understandings. The Epistle to the Hebrews could
therefore share a common tradition regarding rest with the Targumim.
The concept of a “house of rest” in the Old Testament has not entered the
discussion regarding Heb 3:1–6 and Psalm 95, even though all the necessary
elements are present. This amplifies the importance of the Targumim, as
Martin McNamara notes:
The tradition or traditions or sources enshrined in the Targums prob-

ably originated and developed over a number of centuries, possibly from
the second century BCE to the sixth or seventh century of our era. Some
recent writers speak of the tell-like structure of the Targums, to which we
are asked to have sensitivity. The Targums, or sections of them, may well
be, as it were, mounds of information, with layers of interpretation from
38 James D. Ernest, The Bible in Athanasius of Alexandria (BAC 2; Boston: Brill, 2004), 23.
different ages and centuries. This is an approach to Targumic tradition

that deserves further research, and may have light to throw on the forma-
tion and understanding of certain biblical books or blocks of tradition.39
As a running commentary on Hebrew scripture, the Targumim can be extremely

useful in aiding our understanding of other interpretations of scripture.
Bibliography
Ellingworth, Paul. The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Greek Text. New
International Greek Testament Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993.
Lane, William L. Hebrews 1–8. Word Biblical Commentary 47A. Dallas: Word, 1991.
Neil, William. The Epistle to the Hebrews. London: SCM, 1955.
Other Literature
Athanasius, Select Writings and Letters of Athanasius. In vol. 4 of The Nicene and Post-
Nicene Fathers, Second Series. Edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. 14 vols.
1886–1900. Repr. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1994.
Braun, Roddy. 1 Chronicles. Word Biblical Commentary 14. Dallas: Word, 1986.
Caird, George B. “The Exegetical Method of the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Canadian
Journal of Theology 5 (1959): 44–51.
Chilton, Bruce D. The Isaiah Targum. The Aramaic Bible 11. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1987.
Dalley, Stephanie. Myths From Mesopotamia: Creation, the Flood, Gilgamesh, and
Others. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991.
Enns, Peter. “The Interpretation of Psalm 95 in Hebrews 3.1–4.13.” Pages 352–63 in
Early Christian Interpretation of the Scriptures of Israel: Investigations and Proposals.
Edited by Craig A. Evans and James A. Sanders. Journal for the Study of the New
Testament: Supplement Series 148. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1997.
Ernest, J. D. The Bible in Athanasius of Alexandria. The Bible in Ancient Christianity 2.
Boston: Brill, 2004.
Flusser, David. “ ‘Today If You Will Listen to His Voice’: Creative Jewish Exegesis in
Hebrews 3–4.” Pages 55–62 in Creative Biblical Exegesis: Christian and Jewish
39 McNamara, “Melchizedek,” 30.

46 Kim
Hermeneutics through the Centuries. Edited by Benjamin Uffenheimer and Henning

G. Reventlow. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series 59.
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1988.
Guthrie, George H. “Hebrews’ Use of the Old Testament: Recent Trends in Research.”
Currents in Biblical Research 1 (2003): 271–94.
Hallo, William W., ed. The Context of Scripture. Vol. 1: Canonical Compositions from the
Biblical World. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
Heidel, Alexander. The Babylonian Genesis: The Story of the Creation. 2nd ed. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1951.
Hofius, Otfried. Katapausis: Die Vorstellung vom endzeitlichen Ruheort im Hebräerbrief.
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 11. Tübingen: Mohr, 1970.
Laansma, Jon. “I Will Give You Rest”: The “Rest” Motif in the New Testament with Special
Reference to Mt 11 and Heb 3–4. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen
Testament 98. Tübingen: Mohr, 1997.
Maher, Michael. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis. The Aramaic Bible 1B. Edinburgh:
T&T Clark, 1992.
McNamara, Martin. “Melchizedek: Gen 14,17–20 in the Targums, in Rabbinic and Early
Christian Literature,” Biblica 81 (2000): 1–31.
Pritchard, James B., ed. Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament. 3rd ed.
Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1969.
Proctor, John. “Judgement or Vindication: Deuteronomy 32 in Hebrews 10:30.” Tyndale
Bulletin 55 (2004): 75–78.
Rad, Gehard von. “There Remains Still a Rest for the People of God: An Investigation
of a Biblical Conception.” Pages 94–102 in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other
Essays. Translated by E. W. Trueman Dicken. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1966.
Sandars, Nancy K. Poems of Heaven and Hell from Ancient Mesopotamia. London:
Penguin Books, 1971.
Stec, David M. The Targum of Psalms. The Aramaic Bible 16. London: T&T Clark, 2004.
Vanhoye, Albert. Old Testament Priests and the New Priest. Petersham, Mass.: St. Bede’s
Publications, 1980.
Waltke, Bruce K. and M. O’Connor. An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax. Winona
Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990.
Williamson, H. G. M. 1 and 2 Chronicles. New Century Bible Commentary. Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982.
Moses as Priest and Apostle in Hebrews 3:1–6*
John Lierman
Introduction
Hebrews explicitly compares Jesus and Moses in only one place, 3:1–6. This
passage identifies Jesus as ὁ ἀπόστολος καὶ ἀρχιερεὺς τῆς ὁμολογίας, “the apos-
tle and high priest of our confession.” The author does not give these titles to
Moses, but after calling on his readers to “consider . . . Jesus” as both “apostle
and high priest,” he immediately compares this Jesus to Moses. I will argue that
the supposition that Hebrews also sees Moses as an apostle and high priest can
be sustained.1
The connection in the passage between Moses and the offices of apostle
and high priest can seem tenuous at best. Here, I discuss evidence that Jews
in the Second Temple period esteemed Moses in both these roles, and I con-
clude that a Jewish audience would readily have noted and accepted an asso-
ciation of Moses with both offices. In the first section of this chapter I explore
Jewish views of the priesthood of Moses, and in the second, Jewish concep-
tions of Moses as an apostle. I then return to Heb 3. The payoff is a clearer
picture of ancient Judaism, deeper insights into the development of the earli-
est Christology, and a more complete understanding of the book of Hebrews.
The Priesthood of Moses
The Bible
In the Bible, the priesthood of Moses is explicit only in Ps 99:6, which says
plainly, “Moses and Aaron were among his priests.” But Old Testament tra-
dition as it might have been viewed in the Herodian age leaves little doubt
* This chapter, presented in Philadelphia on 20 November 2005 at the annual meeting of the
Society of Biblical Literature, is adapted from material I published in The New Testament
Moses: Christian Perceptions of Moses and Israel in the Setting of Jewish Religion (WUNT 2/173
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004), 65–76. It appears here with the kind permission of Mohr
Siebeck.
1 Edgar L. Allen (“Jesus and Moses in the New Testament,” ExpTim 67 [1955–56]: 105) argues
that the author here has in mind a Christology that “comes near to equating Jesus with
Moses.”

48 Lierman
about Moses’s prerogatives. In a Tyndale Monograph of 1953, Henry L. Ellison

explored the Moses narratives with an eye to the sensibilities of the Greco-
Roman period. Many of the subtleties of those tales, when read from an ancient
point of view, place Moses squarely in the role of a priest.2 In the Pentateuch,
when Moses inaugurates the covenant, he acts as the presiding priest. The
priesthood of Aaron, which Moses also inaugurates, appears as the delegated
priesthood of Moses. Then, when Aaron’s son Eleazar takes up the high priest-
hood, he too receives his office from Moses, not from his father. Outside the
Pentateuch, in Judg 18:30 the Danite priesthood claims Mosaic lineage, which
signals a view of Moses as a priest, and perhaps a priest superior to Aaron (else
what use is his lineage?).
Clearly, in the Pentateuch Moses is a Levite, a feature of Moses’s curricu-
lum vitae that Jews of the Herodian period greatly stressed.3 We ordinarily
distinguish priests from Levites, but in the Herodian period that distinction
had so worn down that it was a distinction without a difference. The terms
were nearly interchangeable.4 Certainly, the sharp pentateuchal distinction
no longer obtained, so that for Moses to be a Levite facilitated a view of him
as a priest.
When Hebrews was written, Jews could have inferred that Moses was a
priest, even if the Pentateuch never gives him that title. But how strongly did
Jews draw such a conclusion, and how dearly was it held?
Philo
Even if the links between Hebrews and Philo have at times been exaggerated,
the numerous affinities between the two make Philo useful for the study of
2 See Exod 24:6; Lev 8:30–9:24. Henry L. Ellison (The Centrality of the Messianic Idea for the Old
Testament [Tyndale Monographs; London: Tyndale, 1953], 17) has noted, “At the solemn con-
clusion of the Sinaitic covenant he is the priest (Ex. xxiv. 3–8). The twelve young men who
kill the sacrificial oxen are merely the representatives of the people, for the sacrifices were
normally killed not by the priest, but by the persons bringing the sacrifice. It is Moses who
performs the priestly task of manipulating the blood. Equally it is Moses who consecrates
Aaron and his sons to their priestly office. It is Moses who finds fault with Aaron when he
does not carry out his tasks to the full (Lev. x. 16–20). Most significant of all, it is Moses, not
Aaron, who passes on the high-priesthood from Aaron to Eleazar on Mount Hor. In other
words, though after the consecration of Aaron Moses did not act as priest, he had only del-
egated the office.” See also Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction
3 John MacDonald, The Theology of the Samaritans (NTL; London: SCM Press, 1964), 153.
4
Examples of the absence of distinction abound; see William Horbury, “The Aaronic
Priesthood in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” JSNT 19 (1983): 50–54.
Moses As Priest And Apostle In Hebrews 3:1–6 49
Hebrews. Those similarities have grown with the recognition that Philo was
not a strictly marginal Jew.
Philo largely corroborates our conclusions about what Jews would have
made of the biblical portrait of Moses. He explicitly states that Moses func-
tioned as high priest at the ratification of the covenant (Her. 182). According
to Philo, Moses also officiated as priest during the installation of the Aaronic
priesthood, as demonstrated by his manipulation of the blood of the sacri-
fices (Mos. 2.143–1520). As high priest, Moses received divine instruction in
all priestly duties (2.143–152), built and furnished the sanctuary (2.71, 75), and
appointed and instructed the priests (2.141, 153).
Philo believed that Moses’s intercession for the people, and his mediation
with God on their behalf, can be accounted for by his priestly office.5 Philo
picks up on a number of instances in the Pentateuch in which Moses takes
on roles that Philo deems priestly—for example, the affair of the Golden Calf
(Vita Mos. 2.166), where Moses acts as a mediator and reconciler (μεσίτης καὶ
διαλλακτής) and as a protector and intercessor (ὁ κηδεμὼν καὶ παραιτητής). Philo
does not simply assume the priesthood of Moses; he prizes it.6
Josephus
Interestingly, Josephus takes a different view. The priesthood in Josephus is
emphatically the possession of Aaron: no one else, including Moses, is quali-
fied for high priesthood (A.J. 2.210; 3.188–91, 307). For example, in the dream
announcing the birth and the great calling of Moses, Amram learns of another
great privilege Moses will enjoy: “he shall have a brother so blessed as to hold
my priesthood” (A.J. 2.210).
In his concern to defend Aaron’s priesthood, Josephus eliminates some
apparently priestly roles from Moses. He dedicates much space to the rebellion
of Korah over the conferral of the priesthood on Aaron, using one of the longer
narratives in the Antiquities of the Jews to emphasize, over and over, that God’s
design was always for Aaron to have the high priesthood.7 And in a divergence
from the biblical account, Eleazar receives the priestly attire directly from
Aaron himself, and not from Moses (A.J. 4.83).
Despite Josephus’s absolute defense of the Aaronic high priesthood, he depicts
Moses carrying on the same priestly activity that we find in other sources.8
5 See Philo, Plant. 46; Som. 1.143; Mos. 1.128; 2.166.

6 Sac. 130; Spec. 4.192; Mos. 1.334; 2.2–7, 16, 76, 187, 292; Praem. 53, 56.
7 A.J. 4.15–16, 19, 23, 24, 26–33, 46, 58, 66.
8 Paul Spilsbury, The Image of the Jew in Flavius Josephus’ Paraphrase of the Bible (TSAJ 69;
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998), 104–5.
50 Lierman
Moses sanctifies the new priests and tabernacle; Moses manipulates the blood
(A.J. 3.197, 204–206). On many other occasions, Moses offers sacrifices9 or
intercedes for the people.10 Josephus also emphasizes that it was Moses who
was in the tabernacle (Exod 25:22; Josephus, A.J. 3.212, 222) receiving oracles
and enjoying access to the divine presence that exceeded the privilege given
to Aaron and his successors (Lev 16:2).11 Depicted by Josephus as carrying out
priestly activities, Moses remains a leader with outstanding priestly creden-
tials. This implied view of Moses as priest is all the more striking in light of
Josephus’s decided hostility to the notion of non-Aaronic priesthood.
Pseudo-Philo
Pseudo-Philo’s retelling of the Exodus story incorporates many of the instances
of priestly or mediating activity also found in other first-century sources. Once
more, in the Biblical Antiquities Moses sanctifies the people before Sinai (L.A.B.
11.3) and consecrates the priests (13.1). Repeatedly, Moses approaches God to
intercede for the people (11.15 and 12.8–10), and makes atonement for their
sins (19.3).
In a telling redaction, Pseudo-Philo rather pointedly introduces Ps 99:6 into
his rendition of the Song of Hannah: “Hannah prayed and said, . . . ‘Who is
Hannah that a prophet should be born to her? . . . Asaph prophesied in the wil-
derness about your son, saying, “Moses and Aaron were among his priests, and
Samuel was there among them.” ’ Behold the word has been fulfilled” (51.6). As
noted above, Ps 99:6 is the one biblical text that speaks explicitly of the priest-
hood of Moses.
Greco-Roman Writers
Moses is repeatedly described as a priest in Greco-Roman sources, starting
with “pseudo-Manetho” (that is, an interpolator in Manetho’s work quoted as
Manetho in Josephus, C. Ap. 1.250). This pseudo-Manetho, probably writing
early in the first century ce, equates Moses with a Heliopolitan priest of Osiris
named Osarsiph.12 The description of Moses as an either disaffected or dis-
eased Egyptian priest became a common feature in Alexandrian expositions
of Jewish history.13 Strabo describes Moses as an Egyptian priest who became
9 A.J. 2.269, 275, 349; 3.60; 4.101.

10 A.J. 3.22–23, 34, 310, 315; 4.194.
11 Horbury, “Aaronic Priesthood,” 57, MacDonald, Theology of the Samaritans, 153.
12 John G. Gager, Moses in Greco-Roman Paganism (SBLMS 16; Nashville: Abingdon, 1972),
116–18.
13 Gager, Moses in Greco-Roman Paganism, 121.
dissatisfied with animal worship.14 For their depiction of Moses, Greco-Roman

writers most likely drew on Jewish sources—Jewish acquaintances or Jewish
writings designed for consumption by the wider imperial public.
Samaritans
The Samaritans thought a great deal of the priesthood of Moses. While prob-
lems of provenance and especially of date plague the use of Samaritan litera-
ture for illumination of the New Testament, the importance given to Moses
in Samaritan thought combined with the close links between Jews and
Samaritans in the Second Temple period suggest that Samaritan literature has
a corroborative role to play here, for it echoes the thrust of Jewish evidence
more definitely linked with the New Testament setting.
Samaritan literature interprets the Pentateuch in just the ways predicted
from Jewish sources. Thus, the Samaritans remind us that Moses was a priest
and that Aaron only enjoyed priestly duties delegated to him by Moses. Two
Samaritan titles frequently used for Moses are “the Levite,” and “the son of
Amram,” the former of which, as we have seen, implies his priesthood, and the
latter of which at least calls his lineage to mind.15
Memar Marqah describes the priesthood of Moses in a way that rings of Heb
3:1–6:
Where is there the like of Moses, and who can compare with Moses, the
Servant of God, the faithful one of His House (‫)ומהימנה דביתה‬, who dwelt
among the angels in the Sanctuary of the Unseen? . . . He was a holy priest
in two sanctuaries (‫)קדיש תרתי כנשאן‬. (4.6.14–16)16
Note the link between the terms “Servant of God,” “faithful one of His House,”
and “holy priest.” This triad sums up the depiction of Moses in Heb 3:1–6.
14 Gager, Moses in Greco-Roman Paganism, 38–39. Pompeius Trogus alludes to Moses’s priest-
hood with the statement that Arruas (=Aaron) succeeded him as priest of the Egyptian
holy rites (Gager, Moses in Greco-Roman Paganism, 54). Lactantius Placidus may be the
only pagan Latin to make Moses out as “priest of the Highest God,” Moyses, Dei summi
antistes, in Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, vol. 2: From Tacitus to Simplicitus
(ed. and trans. Menachem Stern; Fontes and Res Judaicas Spectantes; Jerusalem: Israel
Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1980), 682, 685.
15 MacDonald, Theology of the Samaritans, 152–54.
16 Memar Marqah, ed. John MacDonald (BZAW 84; Berlin: Alfred Töpelmann, 1963), text,
vol. 1, 95, lines 2–4; trans. vol. 2, 155. Other resemblances between the Moses of Hebrews
and that of the Samaritans appear in MacDonald, Theology of the Samaritans, 445.
52 Lierman
The idea of Moses as a priest on earth and in heaven is not uncommon in

Samaritan texts, though the further one goes into Samaritan literature, the more
difficult it is to defend its utility for New Testament study, since all too quickly
one finds oneself reading texts from the late Middle Ages. In these late texts too,
Moses is a heavenly priest. For example, in a poem from the fourteenth century
the angels address Moses saying, “Begin, O priest; make proclamation!”17—a
striking scene but one of uncertain value for New Testament study.
Moses as a heavenly priest also appears in a Samaritan marriage document
(ketubah), where he is called “the priest of the angels.”18 With their traditional
and stylized language, marriage contracts may preserve old ways of speaking.
The antiquity of the wording of this example is indicated by the use of obsolete
monetary units to assess the dowry and, more especially, by the appearance of
two Greek terms in the text.19 The manuscript itself, however, dates from the
eighteenth century.
Rabbinic Literature
The rabbis were interested in the same biblical data on Moses’s priesthood as
their predecessors. Examination of rabbinic traditions to elucidate the New
Testament could easily expand this chapter beyond its borders. Owing to the
likely lateness of many traditions, however, and a certain amount of repetitive-
ness, rabbinic traditions are for the most part useful mainly as brief corrobora-
tion. Numerous rabbinic texts that speak to ancient sensibilities conclude that
Moses presided as priest during the seven days’ inauguration of the Aaronic
priesthood.20 Some texts that address this weeklong priesthood also main-
tain that Moses lost the priesthood to his brother;21 others maintain that he
17 Quoted by MacDonald, Theology of the Samaritans, 175.

18 John Bowman, trans. and ed., Samaritan Documents Relating to Their History, Religion and
Life (Pittsburgh Original Texts and Translations 2; Pittsburgh: Pickwick, 1977), 313, 318 n. 21.
19 Bowman, trans. and ed., Samaritan Documents, 309–12. One term is “rhetor” (318 n. 27),
describing the groom; the second is not identified by Bowman. On the priesthood of
Moses in Samaritanism, see also James Alan Montgomery, The Samaritans, the Earliest
Jewish Sect: Their History, Theology and Literature (1907; repr. New York: Ktav, 1968), 229–
30, and Bowman, Samaritan Documents, 318 n. 21.
20 For example, b. Zeb. 101b on Lev 8:29. The names of R. Eleazar b. Jose, R. Tanchuma,
R. Judah, and R. Chelbo recur in such traditions, e.g., Lev. Rab. 11.6; y. Yoma 1.38b.46–48;
1.38b.76–1.38c.2; Sifra Shemini Mekhilta deMiluim; b. Ta’anit 11b; Pesiq. Rab Kah. 4.5; Midr.
Pss. 99.4 on 99:6; and Exod. Rab. 2.6. Tg. Ps.-J. Deut. 34:5 also allots him the priesthood for
seven days.
21 For example, Cant. Rab. 1:7 § 3; Exod. Rab. 3.17.
continued as high priest for the rest of his life.22 Sifra (Shemini Mekhilta
deMiluim), commenting on Ps 99:6, affirms that Moses and Aaron were of
equal merit in their priesthoods.
The Mosaic priesthood itself is virtually uncontested in the rabbinic corpus.
Essentially the only matter unresolved among the rabbis regarding Moses’s
priesthood is whether it lasted his whole lifetime or ended with the accession
of Aaron.23 As Exod. Rab. 37.1 sums up, “Our sages have said that Moses min-
istered as High Priest all the forty years that Israel was in the wilderness; but
others hold that he only did so during the seven days of the consecration of the
Tabernacle.”24
I do not wish to read rabbinic literature straight back into the New
Testament. Rather, I simply note the strength of the view of Moses as priest in
an age in which the priesthood of Moses, like priesthood generally, was per-
haps less important than it once had been. I also note that the details of the
rabbinic view, or views, of Moses display a great deal of continuity with earlier
characterization of Moses and thus probably witness to the vigor of those ear-
lier descriptions.
Conclusion
We see, then, that a broad spectrum of Jewish literature depicts Moses as a
priest. The exception that proves the rule is Josephus, who is adamant that
the high priesthood belongs by natural right to Aaron and yet acknowledges
Moses’s priestly function at the inauguration of that priesthood. Greco-
Roman evidence for the view of Moses as a priest is significant since the most
important source for non-Jewish appraisals of Moses must have been Jews.
Samaritans are certainly prominent in the New Testament, and the Samaritan
evidence reminds us why some scholars think that the influence of Samaritan
religion and thought was pronounced among early Christians.25 The Samaritan
evidence strongly suggests that Heb 3:1–6 depicts Moses as a priest.
22 For example, Lev. Rab. 11.6, and the same or very similar in Pesiq. R. 14.11; Pesiq. Rab Kah.
4.5; Midr. Pss. 99.4 on 99:6; Exod. Rab. 37.1; also b. Zeb. 102a and similar Midr. Pss. 18.22 on
18:27. Ps 99:6 and 1 Chr 23:13–14 are commonly appealed to in support.
23 A few rabbinic opinions deny priesthood to Moses, e.g., Gen. Rab. 55.6 (but cf. Exod. Rab.
2.6); Deut. Rab. 2.7 on 3:24.
24 More references in Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews (Philadelphia: Jewish
Publication Society of America, 1925), 5:422 nn. 139, 419 n. 121.
25 Further on the high profile of the Samaritans among the Jews in John Bowman, “Samaritan
Studies,” BJRL 40 (1957–58): 298–99, who argues, 298–308, that the Fourth Gospel was
written with Samaritan theology clearly in mind.
54 Lierman
The Apostleship of Moses
The Biblical Background

In the Old Testament, God “sends” Moses in Exod 3:10—using ‫ שלך‬in the MT
and ἀποστέλλω in the LXX (‫ואשלחך‬, ἀποστείλω σε)—who therefore says to
the captive Israelites, “The God of your ancestors has sent me (‫ )שלחני‬to you”
(Exod 3:13, 15; cf. 4:28).26 In the Old Testament no noun for one who is sent,
such as ‫ שליח‬or ‫מלאך‬, or ἀπόστολος or ἄγγελος, is used of Moses.27 Such nouns,
however, are exceedingly rare in the LXX generally. The key issue here is not the
statistics regarding usage of the terminology occurring in the Old Testament
but the impact that such language had in the period of Hebrews.
Literature of Second Temple Judaism

The evidence in the literature of Second Temple Judaism for a conception of
Moses as an apostle is very thin. In a fragment of Artapanus, God is called “The
one who sent Moses,” ὁ πέμψας αὐτόν.28 In the first century, Moses’s sentness
appears in Josephus, where God exhorts Moses to “convince all men that thou
art sent by me” (ὅτι πεμφθεὶς ὑπ᾿ ἐμοῦ, A.J. 2.274). Much more impressive is
Assumption of Moses 11:17, which terms Moses the magnus nuntius. While not
the same as apostolus, this title still implies his divine commission.29
26 See Jarl E. Fossum, The Name of God and the Angel of the Lord: Samaritan and Jewish
Concepts of Intermediation and the Origin of Gnosticism (WUNT 36; Tübingen: Mohr-
Siebeck, 1995), 145. It is apparently on the basis of these verses that Geo Widengren asserts
that “even in the O.T., Moses is looked upon as an Apostle, a Sent One” (The Ascension of
the Apostle and the Heavenly Book [King and Saviour III], [UUA 7; Uppsala: Lundequistska
Bokhandeln, 1950], 47). Fossum points out the importance of “sentness” to prophets (who
would include Moses) in the Old Testament, e.g., Judg 6:8; Isa 6:8; 61:1; Ezek 2:3; Jer 1:7; Hag
1:12; Zech 2:12. See also Widengren, Ascension of the Apostle, 31–34.
27 In the LXX, ἀπόστολος is attested only once (and the text is in doubt) of the prophet
Ahijah, at 3 Kgdms 14:6, where the MT has ‫שלוח‬. See Karl Heinrich Rengstorf, “ἀποστέλλω,
κτλ.,” TDNT 1:413.
28 Jan-Adolf Bühner, Der Gesandte und sein Weg im 4. Evangelium: Die kultur- und religionsge-
schichtlichen Grundlagen der johanneischen Sendungschristologie sowie ihre traditionsge-
schichtliche Entwicklung (WUNT 2; Tübingen: Mohr, 1977), 299, citing Eusebius, Praep. Ev.
9.27.24.
29 Cf. As. Mos. 10:2, where another nuntius may be depicted as an angel in heaven (but see
Johannes Tromp, The Assumption of Moses: A Critical Edition with Commentary [SVTP 10;
Leiden: Brill, 1993], 229–31, against this idea).
Samaritan Literature
In sharp contrast with the rarity with which Moses appears in Jewish litera-
ture as “sent,” as Jarl Fossum notes, “the description of having been ‘sent’ by
God and being God’s ‘Sent One’ was a common way of representing Moses in
Samaritanism.”30 Occasional references to Moses as God’s ‫ שליח‬appear both
in the Memar Marqah and in the Defter (the Samaritan liturgy).31 For example,
Memar Marqah 2.9 refers to the apostleship of Moses, either as an office he
filled or as a mandate he carried: “They believed in the True One and knew
that the apostleship of Moses (‫ )שליחותה משה‬was true.” Again, the difficulty in
dating Samaritan traditions makes it hard to know how far back such language
goes, and we have only sparse corroborative testimony from Jewish literature,
including Hebrews.
Rabbinic Literature
Turning to rabbinic literature, perhaps the oldest, non-Christian, Jewish refer-
ence to Moses as an apostle comes in a passage in Sifra (Behuqotai Pereq 8
[end]), which says, “Moses had the merit of being made the ‫ שליח‬between
Israel and their father in heaven.” Here, however, Israel may be the commis-
sioning authority, not God.
Another reference, probably of similar antiquity, comes in one of the older
piyyuṭim, “Ezel Moshe” (‫)אזיל משה‬, based on Exod 14:30. This acrostic poem
identifies Moses as “the apostle of the Creator of the Beginning” (‫שליחיה דיוצר‬
‫ )בראשית‬and “the apostle of the King of Glory” (‫)שליחיה דמלך הכבוד‬. In both
instances the word ‫ שליח‬is used. The relevant lines are extant in two manu-
scripts from the Cairo Genizah,32 but the base text for the poem (with these
30 Fossum, Name of God, 144.

31 Wayne A. Meeks, The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine Christology
(NovTSupp 14; Leiden: Brill, 1967), 226–27. Some of these and related texts are explored
by Bühner, Gesandte, 302–6, and by Fossum, Name of God, 144–45, who also considers
(146–49) the evidence for Moses as ‫ מלאך‬in Samaritanism.
32 The first ms reads: “Apostle of the Creator of the Beginning”: Oxford Bodleian Ms. Heb.
c. 74v, lines 34–35, and 75r, lines 6–7 in Michael L. Klein, Genizah Manuscripts of Palestinian
Targum to the Pentateuch (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1986), 1.236–37. This
shelfmark appears to be defective, as it lacks a numeral after “c.” In the photograph in Klein
the tag giving the shelfmark is cut off at the bottom, leaving only “MS Heb.” Presumably,
Klein worked from the photograph and the defect was not noticed. (The MS is cited as
Ox. MS 2701/9 folios 63–64 in Joseph Yahalom, “Ezel Moshe—According to the Berlin
Papyrus,” Tarbiz 47, nos. 3–4 [April–September 1978]: 173–84 and Michael Sokoloff and
Joseph Yahalom, Jewish Palestinian Aramaic Poetry from Late Antiquity [Jerusalem: Israel
Academy of Sciences, 1999], 82, but this catalog number is also an error, since it belongs to
56 Lierman
particular lines unfortunately lost in a lacuna) appears in a papyrus.33 The

piyyuṭ is thought to go back at least to the fourth century CE.
Starting from the fourth century, a minor flowering of such language takes
place in Jewish literature written in Semitic languages. Several rabbinic texts—
the earliest is Mekilta de-Rabbi Simeon ben Jochai—designate Moses as God’s
‫שליח‬.34
In the Passover haggadah, which as a liturgical text likely conserves old tra-
ditions, appears the comment on Deut 26:8, “ ‘And the Lord brought us out of
Egypt’: not by means of an angel (‫)מלאך‬, and not by means of a seraph (‫)שרף‬,
and not by means of the apostle (‫)השליח‬.”35 Only the last term is determined
by the article, implying that the apostle is set apart as a special agent of God,
over against the general classes of angels and seraphs, who also figure in the
New Testament as agents in the exodus.36 The words “the apostle” can be read
as a reference to Moses.37
The Priesthood and Apostleship of Moses in Hebrews 3:1–6
Now I return to Heb 3, which gives Jesus the titles apostle and high priest. Both
titles are governed by a single article, which suggests that Hebrews has turned
the two titles into one grand title. The fused expression introduces a compari-
son of Moses and Jesus.
In the New Testament only Hebrews calls Jesus “priest.” Such a denomina-
tion was not standard Christology even at the time, and it seems never to have
the MS we cite next). The second ms reads “Apostle of the King of Glory”: Oxford Bodleian
Ms. Heb. e.25, folio 63v, line 15 (Klein, 1.238–39). In this MS, 64r, line 2, Moses cries, “The
King of Kings has sent me” (‫ ;שלחי‬Klein, 1.238–39; Sokoloff and Yahalom cite—now
correctly—catalog number Ox. MS 2701/9 folios 63–64).
33 Berlin Stadtmuseum P8498; published in Yahalom, “Ezel Moshe,” 173–84, see Sokoloff and
Yahalom, Jewish Palestinian Aramaic Poetry, 82–86.
34 Bühner, Gesandte, 286–99; see Fossum, Name of God, 144–45; Widengren, Ascension of the
Apostle, 47.
35 Quoting from Fossum, Name of God, 147. Cf. LXX Isa 63:9, οὐ πρέσβυς οὐδὲ ἄγγελος, ἀλλ᾿
αὐτὸς κύριος. Further, Judah Goldin, “Not by Means of an Angel and Not by Means of
a Messenger,” in Religions in Antiquity (ed. Jacob Neusner; SHR 14; Leiden: Brill, 1968),
412–24.
36 Fossum, Name of God, 147.
37 Fossum, Name of God, 147–48; cf. Jarl E. Fossum, The Image of the Invisible God: Essays on
the Influence of Jewish Mysticism on Early Christianity (NTOA 30; Freiburg, Switzerland:
Universitätsverlag Freiburg; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995), 58–59.
caught on. And I can find no other instance in early Christian literature where
Jesus is called “apostle.” The peculiarity of these two titles in New Testament
Christology and the uniqueness of the title “apostle” suggest that Hebrews was
not drawing on contemporary Christology at all. I contend that the appearance
and fusion of the two titles in Heb 3 stems instead directly from their prior con-
nection with the other individual there named: Moses.38
Hebrews intends to portray Jesus as possessing the same glory as Moses,
only more of it. The two are equivalent figures. In Heb 3:1–6 particularly, Jesus
transcends Moses only in that Jesus is worthy of glory to a greater degree than
Moses. Both are worthy of glory, and for the same basic reason.39 Peter R. Jones
suggests that in Heb 3:1–6 both Moses and Jesus are apostles, being distin-
guished only as “servant” and “Son.”40 I would refine that position by saying
that both Moses and Jesus are “apostle and high priest,” with the sole, but all-
important, distinction that one is a servant and the other a son.
As already noted, Heb 3:1–6 contains a number of epithets of Moses that
were popular among the Samaritans. Samaritans used terms for Moses such
as “apostle” (of the Truth [i.e., of God]),” “holy priest,” “the faithful one of the
house of God,” “servant,” and “son of the house of God” many times. The titles
occur together in the same contexts in Samaritan literature, even in the same
sentences, just as they do in Heb 3.41 The similarities between the views of
Moses in Hebrews and in Samaritan texts have led some scholars to postulate a
relationship either between Hebrews and Samaritanism generally or between
Hebrews and certain Samaritan Christians.42 Another possibility is that the
38 See Peter Rhea Jones, “The Figure of Moses as a Heuristic Device for Understanding the
Pastoral Intent of Hebrews,” RevExp 76 (1979): 98, and William L. Lane, Hebrews 1–8 (WBC
47A; Dallas: Word, 1991), 76. Lane (Hebrews 1–8, 75) points out, however, that the Fourth
Gospel makes use of the conception of “the one sent” for Jesus without using the title
ἀπόστολος. Other New Testament writings also call Jesus the one “sent” from God; see
Craig R. Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 36;
New York: Doubleday, 2001), 243.
39 Koester, Hebrews, 240–41, also 242.
40 Jones, “The Figure of Moses,” 98; see Koester, Hebrews, 252–53. Moses appears as “God’s
servant” in Exod 14:31; Num 12:7–8; Deut 34:5; Josh 1:1, 2, 7, 15; 8:31, 33; 9:24; 11:12, 15; 12:6;
13:8; 14:7; 18:7; 22:2, 4, 5; 1 Kings 8:56; 2 Kings 18:12; 21:8; 1 Chr 6:49; 2 Chr 1:3; 24:6, 9; Neh 1:7,
8; 9:14; 10:29; Ps 105:26; Dan 9:11; Mal 3:22(4:4); Wis 10:16; Bar 2:28, and in later writers, e.g.
Josephus, A.J. 5.39; cf. 4.16, 317.
41 Fossum, Name of God, 150–51.
42 Discussion in Fossum, Name of God, 150–52. See also MacDonald, Theology of the
Samaritans, 445.
58 Lierman
Samaritan texts and Hebrews independently preserve once-common ways of

speaking about Moses.
The latter possibility is made more likely by the fact that other Jewish writ-
ers of the period speak of Moses in ways similar to the language of Heb 3.
Compare, for example, with Philo, who says that Moses erects the tabernacle
in order that therein he might become “a perfect suppliant and servant of God”
(ἰκέτης καὶ θεραπευτὴς ἔσεσθαi τέλειος θεοῦ, Det. 160). Here the tabernacle, God’s
house, is the place where Moses is God’s servant (that is, his priest) just as
in Heb 3.43 Josephus also connects Moses’s service to God with his work in
the tabernacle. He writes, “Moses, for his part . . . devoted himself solely to the
service of God (τῇ τοῦ θεοῦ θεραπείᾳ). Desisting from further ascents of Sinai,
he now entered the tabernacle and there received responses on all that he
besought from God” (A.J. 3.212). Hebrews appears to be one of many texts that
interact with a familiar, perhaps even stock, Jewish image of Moses as a faith-
ful, priestly “servant in God’s house.”
The fusion of the two titles in Heb 3:1 is especially important. As in Samaritan
thought, so too among Jews it would not have been exceptional to link priest-
hood with the role of an apostle. See, for example, Mal 2:7, where the priest is
the “messenger” (‫ ;מלאך‬ἄγγελος) of the Lord. Assumption of Moses 10:2 refers
to a messenger, or nuntius, whose “hands are filled” by God (Tunc implebun-
tur manus nuntii qui est in summo constitutus). The “filling of the hands” is a
standard technical expression for the consecration of a priest. The best expla-
nation for this text is that the nuntius is an individual consecrated by God (hid-
den reverently in the words in summo) as emissary and priest, fusing these two
roles in one divine commission, just as in Heb 3:1. The particular nuance of
“emissary” (nuntius) involved here is very distinguished; the term might well
be translated “apostle.” As already noted, Assumption of Moses 11:17 dubs Moses
the magnus nuntius, which we should translate as either “the great emissary”
or “the great apostle.”44
In rabbinic literature, apostleship and priesthood continue to be linked.
Bavli Ned. 35b–36a carries a debate in the Gemara over whether or not priests
are ‫שלוחי דשמיא‬, “apostles of heaven,” while b. Kid. 23b gives the opinion (of
R. Huna b. R. Joshua) that “the priests are apostles of the All-Merciful One”
(‫)נינהו הני כהני שלוחי דרחמנא‬.
The term “apostle” seems to have been part of both Jewish and Christian
vocabulary in the first century. By the time Hebrews was written, Jewish syna-
43 Cf. Philo, QE 2.105.

44 See above, p. 54.
gogues had long had officials called “apostles,”45 though the term seems, at least
in the first century, to have been more a technical term than a formal title,46
and I know of no evidence that this office was linked with priests. At the same
time, it is difficult to imagine a Christian could have used the term “apostle”
unconscious of the foundational importance of the apostles to Christians. But
the total absence of other Christian references to Jesus as an apostle (except
very possibly Eph 2:20) suggests that the christological formulation in Hebrews
was not derived from typical Christian usage.
Hebrews 3:1–6 uses ἀπόστολος and ἀρχιερεύς to describe Jesus in a sense
essentially unparalleled in contemporary Jewish and Christian practice. In
particular, the two titles, fused here into one, do not seem to derive from any
contemporary Christology. Instead, I would argue, they stem from Jewish ideas
about Moses, with whom Hebrews wished to compare Jesus.
The New Testament passage that implies the high priesthood of Moses
apparently includes in the same breath the earliest extant allusion to Moses
as an apostle. Throughout the New Testament and other early Christian lit-
erature, the term ἀπόστολος bears its familiar exalted connotation.47 No one
disputes that its application to Jesus in Heb 3:1 is meant to extol Jesus. Since
Heb 3:1–6 parallels Moses and Jesus, the title that glorifies Jesus would seem
also to glorify Moses.
Conclusion
What have we gained from this analysis? First, we have sharpened our inter-
pretation of Hebrews. Our passage portrays Jesus as the “the apostle and high
priest of our confession,” and when Hebrews follows these words with the
statement, “Jesus . . . was faithful to the one who appointed him, just as Moses
also was faithful in all God’s house,” we must not overlook that the comparison
continues in terms of both priesthood and apostleship. Too narrow a focus on
the terms “servant” and “Son” in Heb 3:1–6 when summing up what Hebrews
45 According to Rengstorf, the Jewish ‫ שליח‬probably goes back to pre-exilic times (compare
2 Chr 17:7–9 with Matt 10:1–7; Luke 9:1–6, 10), and in the first century CE. had become an
institution, Rengstorf, TDNT 1:414–20. Cf. the caution against linking the Jewish and the
Christian offices in Walter Schmithals, The Office of Apostle in the Early Church (trans.
John E. Steely; London: SPCK, 1971), 98–110, and the review of Schmithals, Office of Apostle,
by William Horbury, JTS NS 23 (1972): 216–19, with additional bibliography.
46 Rengstorf, TDNT 1:418.
47 Rengstorf, TDNT 1:413.
60 Lierman
says about Moses and Jesus can cause us to overlook that a servant in God’s
house is a priest and that all these figures carry God’s commission. Hebrews
sets forth both Jesus and Moses as priests and apostles of God.
Second, we have added to our understanding of ancient Judaism. Jewish
thought links priesthood with apostleship. Hebrews looks very Jewish as it links
these concepts in Heb 3. The connection is explicit in the opening statement
about Jesus, but when we encounter the priesthood of Moses in the succeed-
ing verses, we must recognize that the apostolate of Moses is implied as well.
Hebrews emerges as the earliest extant text to identify Moses as an apostle.
The incidental and solitary manner in which the priesthood of Moses
appears in the New Testament does not mean it was unimportant to early Jews
or Christians. Although Hebrews spends more time discussing the priesthoods
of Aaron and Melchizedek, the priesthood of Moses provides the jumping-off
point for those discussions. It had a higher profile among Jews than has often
been supposed and evidently provides the starting point for exploring the
teaching of Hebrews on the priesthood of Jesus.
Finally, evidence suggests the depiction of Jesus in Heb 3:1–6 as apostle and
high priest was more likely dependent on traditions about Moses, rather than
the reverse. I find here another way in which Jewish ideas about Moses influ-
enced the Christian portrayal of Christ.
Bibliography
Other Literature
Allen, E. L. “Jesus and Moses in the New Testament.” Expository Times 67 (1955–56):
104–6.
Bowman, John. “Samaritan Studies.” Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library 40
(1957–58): 298–327.
Bowman, John, trans. and ed. Samaritan Documents Relating to Their History, Religion
and Life. Pittsburgh Original Texts and Translations 2. Pittsburgh: Pickwick, 1977.
Bühner, Jan-Adolf. Der Gesandte und sein Weg im 4. Evangelium: Die kultur- und reli-
gionsgeschichtlichen Grundlagen der johanneischen Sendungschristologie sowie
ihre traditionsgeschichtliche Entwicklung. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum
Neuen Testament 2. Tübingen: Mohr, 1977.
Ellison, H. L. The Centrality of the Messianic Idea for the Old Testament. Tyndale
Monographs. London: Tyndale Press, 1953.
Fossum, Jarl E. The Image of the Invisible God: Essays on the Influence of Jewish Mysticism
on Early Christianity. Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus 30. Freiburg,
Switzerland: Universitätsverlag Freiburg; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1995.
———. The Name of God and the Angel of the Lord: Samaritan and Jewish Concepts
of Intermediation and the Origin of Gnosticism. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen
zum Neuen Testament 36. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995.
Gager, John G. Moses in Greco-Roman Paganism. Society of Biblical Literature
Monograph Series 16. Nashville: Abingdon, 1972.
Ginzberg, Louis. The Legends of the Jews. Vol. 5. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication
Society of America, 1925.
Goldin, Judah. “Not by Means of an Angel and Not by Means of a Messenger.” Pages
414–24 in Religions in Antiquity. Edited by Jacob Neusner. Studies in the History of
Religions 14. Leiden: Brill, 1968.
Horbury, William. Review of Walter Schmithals, The Office of Apostle in the Early
Church, Journal of Theological Studies, NS 23 (1972): 216–19.
———. “The Aaronic Priesthood in the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Journal for the Study of
the New Testament 19 (October 1983): 43–71.
Jones, Peter Rhea. “The Figure of Moses as a Heuristic Device for Understanding the
Pastoral Intent of Hebrews.” Review and Expositor 76 (1979): 95–107.
Klein, Michael L. Genizah Manuscripts of Palestinian Targum to the Pentateuch.
Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1986.
Kittel, Gerhard, and Geoffrey W. Bromiley, eds. Theological Dictionary of the New
Testament. 10 vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964–76.
Memar Marqah, ed. John MacDonald. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 84. Berlin: Töpelmann, 1963.
MacDonald, John. The Theology of the Samaritans. The New Testament Library.
London: SCM Press, 1964.
Meeks, Wayne A. The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine Christology.
Novum Testamentum Supplements 14. Leiden: Brill, 1967.
Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary.
Montgomery, James Alan. The Samaritans, the Earliest Jewish Sect: Their History,
Theology and Literature. 1907. Repr., New York: Ktav, 1968.
Schmithals, Walter. The Office of Apostle in the Early Church. Translated by John E.
Steely. London: SPCK, 1971.
Sokoloff, Michael, and Joseph Yahalom. Jewish Palestinian Aramaic Poetry from Late
Antiquity. Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences, 1999.
62 Lierman
Spilsbury, Paul. The Image of the Jew in Flavius Josephus’ Paraphrase of the Bible. Texte
und Studien zum Antiken Judentum 69. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998.
Stern, Menachem, ed. and trans. Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism. Vol. 2:
From Tacitus to Simplicitus. Fontes and Res Judaicas Spectantes. Jerusalem: Israel
Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1980.
Tromp, Johannes. The Assumption of Moses: A Critical Edition with Commentary. Studia
in Veteris Testamenti pseudepigraphica 10. Leiden: Brill, 1993.
Widengren, Geo. The Ascension of the Apostle and the Heavenly Book [King and Saviour
III]. Uppsala Universiteits Årsskrift 7. Uppsala: Lundequistska Bokhandeln, 1950.
Wolfson, Harry Austryn. Philo: Foundations of Religious Philosophy in Judaism,
Christianity, and Islam. Structure and Growth of Philosophic Systems from Plato to
Spinoza 2. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1947.
Yahalom, Joseph. “Ezel Moshe—According to the Berlin Papyrus.” Tarbiz 47 (April–
September 1978): 173–84.
Hebrews and Second Temple Jewish Traditions
on the Origins of Angels*
Eric F. Mason
Introduction
The comments about angels in Heb 1–2 have prompted numerous sugges-
tions about how the author and the book’s audience perceive them, but the
impetus for the present study arises from disputes about the description of
Melchizedek in Heb 7:3.1 The question of whether the author of Hebrews thinks
of Melchizedek as an angelic figure as in several Dead Sea Scrolls texts has been
debated since the early 1960s. I am among those who have argued that Hebrews’
understanding of Melchizedek as a heavenly figure—most likely angelic—
resembles that found in Visions of Amram, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, and
especially 11QMelchizedek. This interpretation seems to be demanded by
the language of Heb 7:3 and the subsequent comparison the author makes
about the eternal, non-Levitical priesthood held by Melchizedek and Jesus.2
One prominent objection to this approach, however, is that Melchizedek can-
not be understood as angelic or eternal because earlier the author of Hebrews
asserts that angels are created beings when he contrasts them with the Son in
Heb 1:5–14.3 In the words of Gareth L. Cockerill, “It is inconceivable that the
* Portions of this article are adapted from Eric F. Mason, “2 Baruch, 4 Ezra, and the Epistle to
the Hebrews: Three Approaches to the Interpretation of Psalm 104:4,” in Interpreting 4 Ezra
and 2 Baruch: International Studies (ed. Gabriele Boccaccini and Jason M. Zurawski; LSTS 87;
London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2014), 61–71, and are used here with permission.
1 For a concise survey of interpretive issues concerning angels in Heb 1–2, see Richard
Bauckham, “Monotheism and Christology in Hebrews 1,” in Early Jewish and Christian
Monotheism (ed. Loren T. Stuckenbruck and Wendy E. S. North; JSNTSup 263; London: T&T
Clark, 2004), 167–85, esp. pp. 170–72.
2 See Eric F. Mason, “You Are a Priest Forever”: Second Temple Jewish Messianism and the Priestly
Christology of the Epistle to the Hebrews (STDJ 74; Leiden: Brill, 2008), which expands on
Eric F. Mason, “Hebrews 7:3 and the Relationship between Melchizedek and Jesus,” BR 50
(2005): 41–62.
3 See especially Gareth Lee Cockerill, “Melchizedek without Speculation: Hebrews 7.1–25
and Genesis 14.17–24,” in A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology of Hebrews in its Ancient
Contexts (ed. Richard Bauckham et al.; LNTS 387; London: T&T Clark, 2008), 128–44, esp.
p. 132. Cockerill responds to my conference paper (from the meeting titled “Hebrews and

64 Mason
author [of Hebrews] would insist on the Son’s eternity in contrast to the angels’
temporality in Heb. 1.5–14 and then use an angel to affirm the Son’s eternity.”4
The key passage for investigation is Heb 1:7, where the author quotes Ps 104
(LXX 103):4 with only minor variations from the Septuagint.5 The NRSV transla-
tion of the citation in Hebrews is typical: “he makes his angels winds, and his
servants flames of fire.” Virtually all commentators agree that at a minimum,
the point is to emphasize the dominion of the Son over the angels.6 Some add
observations about the Son’s power to effect the angels’ mutability, but others
Christian Theology,” hosted by the University of St Andrews, Scotland, July 2006) rather than
the BR article, but this is not consequential. Both there and in his recent commentary on
Hebrews (The Epistle to the Hebrews [NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012], 298–99, n. 14),
Cockerill’s argument hinges in part on his denial of the existence of heavenly Melchizedek
traditions completely, even at Qumran: “There is no evidence of contemporary belief in a
heavenly Melchizedek” (Epistle, 304). This forces him to reject the dominant, mainstream
interpretations among Qumran scholars of all three scrolls texts mentioned above in favor of
a proposal that the word “Melchizedek” normally was understood in the Qumran texts as the
title “King of Righteousness” (as it was later rendered etymologically in Greek texts including
Philo, Josephus, and Hebrews). His argument is further hindered by his insistence that the
orthographic form ‫ מלכי צדק‬demands interpretation as a title rather than a personal name—
despite differing from the MT in both Gen 14 and Ps 110 only by the lack of a maqqēph—
because it is written as two words. In contrast, Cockerill argues, writers at Qumran wrote
‫ מלכיצדק‬for the figure who met Abram, and he cites the Genesis Apocryphon (unfortunately
called the Genesis Apocalypse in his commentary) as the sole example for this claim. This is
problematic, however, because Cockerill apparently assumes that the Genesis Apocryphon is
a sectarian document composed at Qumran. Instead, Daniel A. Machiela notes that “a large
majority of scholars,” following Joseph A. Fitzmyer, assert that this document was composed
outside the Qumran community and shows no evidence of distinctive Qumran beliefs or
practices. Also, Machiela observes that “all Qumran writings of certain Essene origin were
penned in Hebrew,” whereas the Genesis Apocryphon was written in Aramaic. See Machiela,
The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon: A New Text and Translation with Introduction and Special
Treatment of Columns 13–17 (STDJ 79; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 7–8.
4 Cockerill, “Melchizedek,” 132. On the language of Heb 7:3 specifically, he writes, “ ‘without
beginning of days or end of life’ is not the description of a heavenly or angelic being (cf.
Heb. 1.7, 14).”
5 The final two words of the citation in Hebrews are πυρὸς φλόγα, whereas most Septuagint
manuscripts have πῦρ φλέγον.
6 Paul Ellingworth (The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Greek Text [NIGTC; Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993], 120–21) insists that God remains the subject of the quotation (as in
the original context of the psalm), whereas most interpreters assume that the citation (like
others in 1:5–14) is recast to imply the Son’s authority. He also rejects the idea that mutability
of angels is an issue; the only point is to affirm that angels are God’s ministers (as in 1:14).
The interpretation of Craig R. Koester (Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction and
Hebrews And Second Temple Jewish Traditions 65
(like Cockerill) go further and insist that the author of Hebrews understands
angels as created beings.7 I will return to this passage in Hebrews later, but for
now it will suffice to concede that two legitimate points can be made in favor
of the idea that Hebrews’ use of this language implies that the author thinks of
angels as created beings. First, language from Ps 104:4 is used in several Second
Temple period texts to make such an assertion. Second, the participle in this
citation is from ποιέω (“he makes”), a term commonly used for creation activity
in the Septuagint, and a few verses earlier in Heb 1:2 the author states that God
“created the worlds” (ἐποίησεν τοὺς αἰῶνας) through the Son.
Despite these two factors, I propose that this approach to the quotation in
Heb 1:7 is flawed and that nothing here actually demands that the author of
Hebrews thinks of angels as created beings. Instead, I argue that the author
uses the quotation to assert the dominion of the Son over the angels and does
not speak to their origins. As such, there is no impediment here to the idea that
the author describes Jesus in comparison to an angelic Melchizedek. In order
to make this case, I will survey relevant discussions of creation in the Hebrew
Bible, with particular emphasis on Ps 104. This examination is important in
order to consider the ground from which later conceptions sprang. Next, I
will consider how Ps 104:4, a key passage for later conceptions of the origins
of angels, is used in several Second Temple period Jewish texts. Finally, I will
return to Hebrews and its use of the psalm text in Heb 1:7.
Commentary [AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001], 193–94), which emphasizes the relationship
between this quotation and Heb 1:14 in a different way, is discussed below.
7 Examples of scholars who (for one or more reasons) argue that angels are created beings
in Hebrews include David L. Allen, Hebrews (NAC; Nashville, Tenn.: B&H, 2010), 176–77;
Herbert W. Bateman IV, Early Jewish Hermeneutics and Hebrews 1:5–13: The Impact of Early
Jewish Exegesis on the Interpretation of a Significant New Testament Passage (American
University Studies Series VII, Theology and Religion, 193; New York: Peter Lang, 1997), 225–27;
Bauckham, “Monotheism,” 179–81; John Paul Heil, Hebrews: Chiastic Structures and Audience
Response (CBQMS 46; Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 2010), 40;
William L. Lane, Hebrews 1–8 (WBC 47A; Dallas: Word, 1991), 1:28–29; John P. Meier, “Structure
and Theology in Heb 1,1–14,” Bib 66 (1985): 168–89, and “Symmetry and Theology in the Old
Testament Citations of Heb 1,5–14,” Bib 66 (1985): 504–33; Hugh Montefiore, A Commentary
on the Epistle to the Hebrews (BNTC; London: A&C Black, 1964), 46–47; and Peter T. O’Brien,
The Letter to the Hebrews (PNTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 72. Presumably this also
is the position of Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (NTL; Louisville, Ky.:
Westminster John Knox, 2006), 79–80. This view is articulated by James W. Thompson in
The Beginnings of Christian Philosophy: The Epistle to the Hebrews (CBQMS 13; Washington,
D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1982), 132–34, but not in his more recent
commentary Hebrews (Paideia; Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008), 48. Ellingworth
(Epistle, 121) states that this approach stretches back to Chrysostom.
66 Mason
Angels and Creation Texts in the Hebrew Bible
When one seeks to investigate how ancient Jews understood the origins of
angels, one finds that both biblical information and scholarly discussion are
much more meager than might be expected. Most scholarly discussions of
angels focus on the very important issues of terminology (including the “angel
of the Lord”) and functions.8 It is common for scholars to argue that the
angels in ancient Hebrew thought are rooted somehow in the messenger gods
or subordinate figures in the divine councils of Canaanite or other ancient
Near Eastern mythologies, and discussions of the “origins” of angels in the
Bible typically start at this point. Though such discussion certainly is relevant,
it is not exactly the same question as asking how ancient Hebrews consciously
thought about the nature of angels, or if they even did so.
Frankly, it is difficult to affirm that any text in the Hebrew Bible explicitly
speaks to this latter question, even though several passages have been suggested
as providing such an answer. One finds this approach especially in Bible dic-
tionary and encyclopedia entries, where articles on angels commonly include
a short phrase affirming that angels are created beings on the basis of one or
two proof texts. Anyone who has written for these sorts of reference volumes
understands the dilemma someone assigned to write on a topic like “angels”
within strict word limits must face. Citation of a few (often obscure) verses in
support of an idea can unfortunately—and probably unavoidably—appear to
imply that such verses represent the consensus position in the ancient context,
whereas scholars recognize a diversity of viewpoints on many topics among
biblical authors.9 My approach here instead is to examine several creation
texts that may reference the origins of angels. I follow the list of creation texts
8 Important recent contributions include Michael Mach, Entwicklungsstadien des jüdischen

Engelglaubens in vorrabbinischer Zeit (TSAJ 34; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992) and the
numerous chapters in Friedrich V. Reiterer, Tobias Nicklas, and Karin Schöpflin, eds., Angels:
The Concept of Celestial Beings—Origins, Development and Reception (Deuterocanonical and
Cognate Literature Yearbook 2007; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007). For a helpful survey of major
publications on angels, see Aleksander R. Michalak, Angels as Warriors in Late Second Temple
Jewish Literature (WUNT 2/330; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012), 1–11.
9 I refrain here from citing specific problematic examples due to the difficulty of the author’s
task as noted above. A laudable positive example of clarity—admittedly written with
significantly fewer restraints on length—may be found in Bernard J. Bamberger et al., “Angels
and Angelology,” EJ, 2nd ed., 2:150–61.
identified by Richard J. Clifford, though it is instructive to note that the word

“angels” is absent from his subject index.10
Before turning to these texts, two comments are necessary. First, it must be
recognized that significant language used to describe God (and his court) in
ancient Israel was adapted from conceptions of El and his family of Canaanite
deities. El was unambiguously the creator god and father of other deities.11
These deities were also closely associated with cosmological elements (such as
Yam and sea). Texts in the Hebrew Bible may retain the motif of the heavenly
court (whether composed of inferior deities or else angels) while simultane-
ously asserting the non-divine nature of celestial bodies and other aspects of
the natural world, which the transition to monotheism required in order to
ensure they were understood as totally subordinate to the unrivaled Yahweh.
Yet, one must acknowledge the potential problem of overly precise interpreta-
tion of the term ‫“( צבא‬host”), as it can be used in the Hebrew Bible in reference
to heavenly beings and to celestial bodies. This term will be treated with spe-
cial concern in the discussion that follows.12
Second, some scholars argue that the idea that God created the angels lies at
the very heart of the etymology of the Divine Name. Frank Moore Cross argued
that “the accumulated evidence . . . strongly supports the view that the name
Yahweh is a causative imperfect of the Canaanite-Proto-Hebrew verb hwy,
‘to be,’ ” and he traced the name to a creation epithet. As such, he rejected
10 Richard J. Clifford, Creation Accounts in the Ancient Near East and in the Bible (CBQMS 26;
Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1994). I examine only those
texts listed by Clifford that are relevant for the present discussion.
11 See the discussion in E. Theodore Mullen Jr., The Divine Council in Canaanite and Early
Hebrew Literature (HSM 24; Chico, Calif., Scholars, 1980), 12–22.
12 Judges 5:20 (“the stars fought from heaven”) is often cited as proof for the idea that
the angelic hosts and celestial bodies should be understood as related. Frank Moore
Cross (Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History of the Religion of Israel
[Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1973], 70), for example, connects this pas-
sage with Josh 5:14 (the encounter of Joshua with the angelic commander of the army
of the Lord) and Josh 10:12–14 (when the sun and moon stood still during the battle at
Gibeon). Cross claims additional support in Isa 40:26 for the assimilation of the heav-
enly bodies and angelic armies (Canaanite Myth, 71), whereas Claus Westermann (Isaiah
40–66 [OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969], 58) finds there essentially the opposite,
an anti-Babylonian polemic against identification of the stars with the astral cult: “To
this, Deutero-Isaiah says that the astral bodies, who are lords in Babylon . . . are created
things . . . and nothing more.” Similarly, Karel van der Toorn (“Sun,” ABD 6:237–39) notes
the biblical emphasis to subordinate the sun as a part of God’s created order while adapt-
ing language used elsewhere in solar cults for ascription to Israel’s God. For broader dis-
cussion, see Michalak, Angels as Warriors, 43–53.
68 Mason
the common translation “Yahweh of hosts” for the phrase ‫ יהוה צבות‬in favor of
“he creates the (divine) hosts,” i.e., the heavenly (angelic) armies.13 Others are
very skeptical, rejecting both Cross’s arguments for the causative form of ‫היה‬
and the idea that the name is derived from an epithet.14 I proceed with these
cautions in mind.
Genesis 1:1–2:3
For many interpreters both ancient and modern, Gen 1:1–2:3 is the classic
biblical creation text. Even if this is not the oldest creation text in the Hebrew
Bible, it nevertheless provided the schema for several Second Temple period
writers to rehearse creation and sometimes—but not always—insert their
ideas about the creation of angels. That was the work of later interpretation,
however, and there is no explanation for the origins of angels here.15
The supreme power of God is striking in the passage: God speaks and things
appear. God is pleased with creation and pronounces it good. This orderly
account is interrupted somewhat, however, on the sixth day in Gen 1:26, at
13 Cross, Canaanite Myth, 65, 69–70. Alberto R. W. Green (The Storm-God in the Ancient Near
East [Biblical and Judaic Studies from the University of California, San Diego 8; Winona
Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2003], 231–32) follows Cross but provides a lengthy bibliogra-
phy of discussion of the topic. Patrick D. Miller (The Religion of Ancient Israel [Library of
Ancient Israel; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2000], 2) also follows Cross but with
more nuance. Contra Cross, T. N. D. Mettinger (“Yahweh Zebaoth,” DDD2, 920–24) finds
the construct rendering “Lord of hosts” most likely.
14 See, for example, discussion in the surveys by Karel van der Toorn, “Yahweh,” DDD2 910–
19, esp. pp. 916–17; and Henry O. Thompson, “Yahweh,” ABD 6:1011–12. See also Walther
Zimmerli, Old Testament Theology in Outline (Atlanta: John Knox, 1978), 19, excerpted
in Ben C. Ollenburger, ed., Old Testament Theology: Flowering and Future (Sources for
Biblical and Theological Study 1; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2004), 126. Compare
D. N. Freedman, M. P. O’Connor, and H. Ringgren, “‫יהוה‬,” TDOT 5:500–21.
15 This reflects the normal interpretation of ‫“( צבאם‬hosts”) in Gen 2:1 as referencing the
celestial bodies God has created (perhaps also extended to include the terrestrial creation
as well). See Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 1–15 (WBC 1; Dallas: Word, 1987), 35; Nahum M.
Sarna, Genesis (JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1989),
15; and presumably Claus Westermann, Genesis 1–11: A Commentary (CC; Minneapolis:
Augsburg, 1984), 168. James L. Kugel (A Walk Through Jubilees: Studies in the Book of
Jubilees and the World of its Creation [JSJSup 156; Leiden: Brill, 2012], 29) disagrees; he
defines the “host” here as the angels, or armies of heaven, and identifies this as the prompt
for the authors of Jubilees and other texts to insert the creation of angels somewhere in
the six days of activity.
the creation of humanity. God suddenly speaks in the first-person plural: “Let
us make man in our image, after our likeness.”16 Some scholars note that this
account of the creation of humanity originally was independent of the rest of
this unit and that the mechanics of creation seem to differ here.17 Interpreters
have long debated this plural language, with some deeming it a plural of maj-
esty and others anachronistically finding a hint of the Christian Trinity. Many
scholars have found here a description of God addressing a divine council or a
heavenly court composed either of inferior gods or angels. Neither other gods
nor angels have yet appeared in the story (pending one’s identification of the
‫ רוח‬in Gen 1:2), so internal cues offer little help. Their origins are not explained,
so presumably their existence is simply assumed. Claus Westermann, follow-
ing Paul Joüon, argues for a plural of deliberation, noting ancient Near Eastern
parallels for a corporate decision before the creation of humanity. Yet he denies
that the priestly editor could have sanctioned anything less than monotheism,
and he asserts that angels are nowhere to be found in P traditions. He con-
cludes, “The idea of a heavenly court may well be in the background; however
it is not necessary for the explanation and P could not have intended it to
be so. The plural of deliberation in the cohortative is an attested and sufficient
explanation.”18
Others are more assertive about a court setting for such language, and
Gordon J. Wenham notes that this has long been the standard Jewish position
and one embraced by many critical scholars.19 Here an insight argued inde-
pendently (yet almost simultaneously) by Mark S. Smith and Lowell K. Handy
is very helpful.20 Many have argued for Canaanite or other influences on such
passages, but Smith and Handy explain that ancient Israel inherited from
Canaanite tradition a four-level heavenly pantheon. That model, attested in
16 Translations of Hebrew Bible texts are adapted from the NJPS. See the similar use of
plural pronouns in Gen 3:22 (expulsion from Eden) and 11:7 (dispersal for Babel tower).
17 See, for example, Westermann, Genesis 1–11, 143.
18 Westermann, Genesis 1–11, 144–45, esp. p. 145.
19 Wenham, Genesis 1–15, 27–28. See the similar position in Sarna, Genesis, 12.
20 See Lowell K. Handy, “Dissenting Deities or Obedient Angels: Divine Hierarchies in Ugarit
and the Bible,” BR 35 (1990): 18–35; and Among the Host of Heaven: The Syro-Phoenician
Pantheon as Bureaucracy (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1994). See also several books
by Mark S. Smith, including The Early History of God: Yahweh and the Other Deities in
Ancient Israel (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1990); The Origins of Biblical Monotheism:
Israel’s Polytheistic Background and the Ugaritic Texts (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2001); The Memoirs of God: History, Memory, and the Experience of the Divine in Ancient
Israel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004); and God in Translation: Deities in Cross-Cultural
Discourse in the Biblical World (FAT 57; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008).
70 Mason
Ugaritic texts, had El and his wife (Athirat) at the top, divine children includ-
ing Baal on the second level, specialized gods such as the craftsman Kothar on
the third level, and divine workers such as messengers (angels), gatekeepers,
and servants on the fourth. In the words of Smith, “The four levels of the pan-
theon correspond to different tiers of the divine household. The top two levels
of the pantheon are occupied by the divine parents and their children, while
the bottom two tiers of the pantheon consist of deities working in the divine
household.”21 It is important to note that in the Canaanite conception, all these
levels are occupied by divine beings. Elsewhere Smith considers what gods are
in the ancient Near East and opines that at the most basic level of definition,
“to be divine is not to be human.”22
Smith (like many other scholars) notes various biblical texts in which
Yahweh appears in El’s court, such as Ps 82, where El officiates and Yahweh
stands to speak. In Deut 32:8–9, Yahweh as “divine son” of Elyon is assigned
as god for Jacob’s family in the Septuagint and Qumran manuscripts, but the
MT has reworked this passage to speak of “sons of Israel” rather than divine
sons and by doing so assimilated Yahweh and Elyon.23 Also, Yahweh may be
described with language familiar from Baal texts, such as the storm god imag-
ery in Ps 29.
Smith argues that Israel took over a basic Canaanite pantheon model that
initially had El (and Asherah) on the top level, then a second level with Baal
and Yahweh among several gods, a third level more difficult to define, and a
fourth level with angels. Eventually El and Yahweh were assimilated, as Israel
moved toward monotheism. The angels, occupying the fourth level, continued
the functions held by lesser gods in Canaanite thought. By the time Gen 1 was
written, the presentation had been fully domesticated to present God as with-
out any legitimate challenger—the forceful sea, sun, moon, planets, etc., were
all assigned their places in God’s creative order.24 A court context remained for
God, but clearly he is its sole leader.25
21 Smith, Memoirs, 102.

22 Smith, Origins, 6.
23 Smith, Origins, 48–49.
24 Smith, Origins, 170–71.
25 Compare the words of Robert Karl Gnuse in his discussion of the emergence of mono-
theism in ancient Israel: “There are passages which admit the existence of other deities.
Many are vague and speak of the other gods as subordinate to Yahweh, perhaps as the
‘heavenly host’ who serve Yahweh as messengers or assistants in divine war. Both post-
exilic Jews and modern Jews and Christians have learned to read these as references to
angels to thus preserve the monotheistic identity of Yahweh. But pre-exilic Israelites
would have understood these messengers, angels or aides-de-camp as gods, as the
Job 38
The book of Job opens with a prose section in which members of the heav-
enly court present themselves before God. They are called “sons of God”
(MT ‫ ;בני האלהים‬LXX οἱ ἄγγελοι; NJPS “divine beings”) in 1:6 but are not defined
more specifically, and nothing is said of their origins.26 The antagonist is ‫השטן‬,
the Accuser (NJPS “Adversary”), but not yet the Satan or even a fallen angel
of later traditions. He is ὁ διάβολος in the Septuagint, but in that literature the
term can refer to a being that is either celestial or human.27
In Job 38 God responds to Job’s accusations of unfair treatment with a taunt-
ing rehearsal of creation to make the point that Job does not understand all
things. In 38:4–7, one again finds mention of the “sons of God”:
Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?

Speak if you have understanding.
Do you know who fixed its dimensions
Or who measured it with a line?
Onto what were its bases sunk?
Who set its cornerstone
When the morning stars sang together
And all the “sons of God” [‫ ]בני האלהים‬shouted for joy?
Though nothing explicit is said about the creation of angels, some have argued
that angels are here correlated with the (created) stars.28 Others are more hesi-
tant about finding “angels” in this text. While noting that “a practical mono-
theism seems implicit throughout the Book of Job,” Marvin Pope nevertheless
implies that the ‫( בני האלהים‬which he translates simply as “gods” in both 1:6 and
frequently used Hebrew word in such instances, elohim, truly implies.” See Gnuse, No
Other Gods: Emergent Monotheism in Israel (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997),
180.
26 C. L. Seow attributes the interpretation of this phrase as “the angels of God” (og) or
“sons of angels” (targum) to “monotheistic scruples.” See Job 1–21: Interpretation and
Commentary (Illuminations; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 272.
27 Victor P. Hamilton, “Satan,” ABD 5:985–89, esp. p. 986.
28 See, for example, Jonathan Ben Dov, Head of All Years: Astronomy and Calendars at
Qumran in Their Ancient Context (STDJ 78; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 27: “Stars are already iden-
tified as angels in such biblical verses as Job 38:7, and implied in 1 En 86:1, 3 and 88:1. Such
identification is explicit in other Second Temple literature . . .”
72 Mason
38:7) still reflect “the lesser members of the ancient pagan pantheon who are
retained in later monotheistic theology as angels.”29
The “sons of God” are said to rejoice when they see God’s creation; one
might argue that this sense demands that they be understood as distinct from
the created world, like Wisdom in Prov 8.30 Even if angels are not the origi-
nal intention here, later interpreters will read the text as such when they, too,
describe the celebration of angels when God reveals the creation to them.
Psalm 8
Numerous psalms recount the glory of God’s creative activity, often as part
of a broader rehearsal of salvation history. In such a vast corpus, however,
mention of angels is relatively rare, whether in texts that recount the events of
29 Marvin H. Pope, Job (3rd. ed.; AB; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1973), XXXVIII, 9.
Cf. David J. Clines, Job 1–20 (WBC 17; Dallas: Word, 1989), 19. See also Norman C. Habel,
The Book of Job: A Commentary (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1985), 538: “The sons of
God who celebrate the construction of the earth are presumably the entire entourage of
the divine court (see on 1:6). In some contexts these heavenly beings are identified with
natural phenomena such as wind and fire (Ps 104:4). Here the parallelism of the verse
suggests that they are considered one with the stars. The allusion to stars, however, may
have its roots in astral mythology. . . . Here, however, the polemical aspect is suppressed
and the focus lies on the participation of the celestial court in the celebration of earth’s
creation in a manner similar to its participation in the divine decision to create human
beings (Gen 1:26).” Likewise, Smith (Origins, 63) suggests that this passage may demon-
strate that “the later religion of Israel may have known a cult of El that included a mini-
mum number of these astral deities.”
30 Angels are not mentioned in Prov 8, but 8:22 may be read to say that Wisdom was “cre-
ated” by God before the rest of creation. The proper understanding of the verb ‫“( קנה‬cre-
ate” or “acquire”) is debated. Michael V. Fox (Proverbs 1–9 [AB; New York: Doubleday,
2000], 279) argues that “the word’s lexical meaning . . . is ‘acquire,’ no more than that. But
one way something can be acquired is by creation” (emphasis his). That said, the empha-
sis here is to provide a “prototype of human acquisition of wisdom” (Fox, Proverbs 1–9,
280). Roland E. Murphy (Proverbs [WBC 22; Nashville, Tenn.: Nelson, 1998], 52) reads the
passage to say that Wisdom is created as “the firstborn, and therefore preexistent to any-
thing else . . . She was already present with God, at the very least witnessing if not cooper-
ating in the creative acts that were taking place.” Later Philo of Alexandria can sometimes
assimilate Wisdom with the Logos, describe the Logos as an archangel, and describe the
Logos as a created being. See Cristina Termini, “Philo’s Thought within the Context of
Middle Judaism,” in The Cambridge Companion to Philo (ed. Adam Kamesar; Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2009), 95–123, esp. pp. 96–103.
creation or otherwise. Gerhard Lisowsky’s Hebrew concordance, for example,

lists only eight occurrences of ‫ מלאך‬in the entire Psalter (though other terms
may be used).31 For our purposes, only four psalms need be considered (Pss 8,
33, 104, and 148), and this analysis should be done again with the reminder that
numerous psalms rehearse or praise God’s creative acts without reference of
any sort to angels.
The first of these four texts needs only very brief attention (though it is
a psalm of great significance to the author of Hebrews in the context of its
Christological argument in ch. 2). Humanity in Ps 8:6 is said to be created “a lit-
tle lower than ‫אלהים‬,” which could denote either God (cf. NJPS “little less than
divine”), plural “gods” as in a court, or angels (as is explicit in the Septuagint
rendering). Regardless, the passage speaks only of the creation of humans
and says nothing about the origins of ‫אלהים‬, however one might understand
that term.
Psalm 33
In Ps 33:6–7 one reads, “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, by
the breath of his mouth, all their host. He heaps upon the ocean waters like a
mound, stores the deep in vaults.” The question here concerns the identity of
the “host” created by the breath of God’s mouth. The Hebrew word ‫ צבא‬may
refer to either celestial bodies or the heavenly entourage (or, for that matter,
human armies, though that interpretation is not reasonable here; see HALOT
2:994–96). Whereas in the next psalm we will consider the term will best be
understood as a reference to angels, here the celestial bodies better fit the
context and parallelism. Hans-Joachim Kraus dates the psalm “relatively late”
because of its acrostic form and finds echoes of Gen 1.32 (The influence of
Gen 1 may further support the interpretation that “host” here is not angelic.)
That said, it must also be admitted that later Jewish interpreters found license
to read the idea of angelic hosts into these passages because of the flexibility
of the term.33
31 Pss 34:8 [ET 7]; 35:5; 35:6; 78:49; 91:11; 103:20; 104:4; 148:2.
32 Hans-Joachim Kraus, Psalms 1–59 [CC; Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1988], 375. See the simi-
lar assessments in Samuel Terrien, The Psalms: Strophic Structure and Theological
Commentary (ECC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 295–300.
33 Cf. the discussion of Job 38 above.
74 Mason
Psalm 148 (and Nehemiah 6)

Psalm 148 is a hymn of praise to God with a call for worship from the heavenly
realm (vv. 1–6) and from earth (vv. 7–14).34 It may date to the Second Temple
period.35 Verses 1–6 read as follows:
Hallelujah.
Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise him on high.
Praise him, all his angels, praise him, all his hosts.
Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, all bright stars.
Praise him, highest heavens, and you waters that are above the heavens.
Let them praise the name of the Lord, for it was he who commanded
that they be created.
He made them endure forever, establishing an order that shall never
change.
Like Ps 33, this hymn also seems to reflect awareness of Gen 1 or similar tradi-
tion, as is evident in the affirmation of creation by divine command and other
things that echo that passage.36 For example, the opening call in the respec-
tive sections to “praise the Lord from the heavens” (v. 1) and “from the earth”
(v. 7) reflects the Hebrew idiom of citing heaven and earth as representative of
the entire universe.37 Clearly the angels and their poetic parallel term “hosts”
are included in the heavenly realm in v. 2, and numerous commentators find
a division between the call for worship in the heavenly court in vv. 1–2 and
the similar exhortation to the sun, moon, stars, heavens, and waters above the
heavens in vv. 3–6.38 As for the heavenly bodies, Zenger notes, “They, too, are in
34 Richard J. Clifford, Psalms 73–150 (Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries; Nashville,
Tenn.: Abingdon, 2003), 311; also Artur Weiser, The Psalms: A Commentary (OTL;
Philadelphia: Westminster, 1962), 748. Similar textual divisions are offered by Frank-
Lothar Hossfeld and Eric Zenger, Psalms 3 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2011), 635;
and Erhard S. Gerstenberger, Psalms, Part 2 and Lamentations (FOTL 15; Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2001), 447.
35 Clifford, Psalms 73–150, 311.
36 In addition to Gen 1, Zenger (Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 3, 632, 636) argues for depen-
dence on Ps 104 and parallels with Neh 9.
37 Clifford, Psalms 73–150, 311–12.
38 This is an angelic court according to Zenger but “the submission of the highest deities
under the authority of Yahweh” for Gerstenberger, who notes that a call to the celestial
bodies might have been expected here. Both commentators note that a multi-level under-
standing of heaven (as will be common in later texts) seems to be in view. See Hossfeld
and Zenger, Psalms 3, 636; and Gerstenberger, Psalms, Part 2, 448.
Yhwh’s service but can no longer be thought of as living beings and certainly
not as divine beings (as in the surrounding astral cults).”39 It goes beyond the
thought of this (relatively late) psalm—particularly if read in light of Gen 1:1–
2:3—to assimilate the angelic “hosts” and the celestial bodies unless one finds
here evidence of a development of thought that will indeed later be present in
Jubilee’s retelling of that creation story.
Joseph Blenkinsopp finds a similar reflection of the first Genesis creation
account in Neh 9:6 (and similarities in Pss 104 and 148).40 The summary state-
ment in Gen 2:1 reads, “The heaven and the earth were finished, and all their
array [lit. ‫צבאם‬, “hosts”].” Similar language appears in Nehemiah:
You alone are the Lord. You made the heavens, the highest heavens,
and all their host [‫]צבאם‬, the earth and everything upon it, the seas and
everything in them. You keep them all alive, and the host [‫ ]צבא‬of heaven
prostrate themselves before you. (9:6)
Now “host” appears twice in the same context with different meanings.
Whereas in Ps 33 it refers to celestial bodies and in Ps 148 it refers to angels
(heavenly court), both uses appear in Neh 9:6, first for celestial bodies and then
for the angelic court.41
Psalm 104
Finally, we turn to the key passage for this survey.42 Psalm 104 is a lengthy psalm
in which God is praised for the creative work that allows for great bounty for
all creatures. Frank-Lothar Hossfeld observes that the earliest version of the
psalm “looks to the conservatio and gubernatio of creation” whereas a later
postexilic redaction added an orientation “toward the creatio prima.”43 The
psalm is marked by ample use of theophoric language, with God described as
39 Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 3, 636.

40 Joseph Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988), 303. See also
H. G. M. Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah (WBC 16; Waco, Tex.: Word, 1985), 312.
41 Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah, 312, addresses only the “host of heaven” and is indecisive on
the referent.
42 See Robert E. Wallace, The Narrative Effect of Book IV of the Hebrew Psalter (Studies in
Biblical Literature 112; New York: Peter Lang, 2007), 70–76, for a recent survey of major
themes and issues in the psalm. For discussion of redactional issues in Ps 104, see Hossfeld
and Zenger, Psalms 3, 46–48.
76 Mason
harnessing various aspects of nature for service. The first four verses are most
important for our purposes:
Bless the Lord, O my soul;

O Lord my God, you are very great;
You are clothed with honor and majesty,
wrapped in a robe of light;
You spread the heavens like a tent cloth.
He sets the rafters of his lofts in the waters,
makes the clouds his chariot,
moves on the wings of the wind.
He makes the winds his messengers [‫]עשה מלאכיו רוחות‬,
fiery flames his servants [‫]משרתיו אש להט‬.
The language reflects that of Ugaritic texts that praise Baal for his defeat of the
sea and provision of fertility for the earth, themes subsequently addressed in
this psalm and also present elsewhere in the book of Psalms.44 The term ‫מלאכיו‬
appears in v. 4 and theoretically could be translated as either “his angels” or
“his messengers.” Similarly, the other noun in the phrase, ‫רוחות‬, could be trans-
lated as “winds” or “spirits,” but the former best fits the context, consistent with
mention of clouds and winds in the previous verse.
The thrust is cosmic and figurative, stressing God’s control of the clouds,
wind, and fire in the divine service. As such, it seems unlikely that the author
intends a direct reference to angels.45 The NRSV reads, “you make the winds
your messengers, fire and flame your ministers,” and the NJPS (above) and NAB
44 Clifford, Psalms 73–150, 148. Language in the psalm also is very similar to that of the Hymn
to the Aten found at El Amarna; Hans-Joachim Kraus argues that this Egyptian imag-
ery was mediated to Israel via Canaanite influence (Psalms 60–150 [CC; Minneapolis:
Augsburg, 1989], 298).
45 See, however, the argument of Patrick D. Miller (“Fire in the Mythology of Canaan and
Israel,” CBQ 27 [1965]: 256–61, esp. p. 259), who suggests that mention of fire (and wind)
here is indebted to ancient associations of fire with the warrior messengers of Yahweh
and prior Canaanite conceptions. Saul M. Olyan also demurs, preferring “He made spirits
his messengers (or angels),” chiefly because ‫ רוח‬can mean “angels” in 1 Kgs 22:21 (assum-
ing angels are the members of the heavenly court there) and the term is often used for
angels in the Qumran literature. See Saul M. Olyan, A Thousand Thousands Served Him:
Exegesis and the Naming of Angels in Ancient Judaism (TSAJ 36; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
1993), 29 n. 56; cf. 71 n. 4.
translations are similar.46 These statements parallel the comments in the pre-
vious verse that the clouds serve as God’s chariot and that God rides “on the
wings of the wind.” In the words of Leslie Allen, the psalmist
uses a description of divine theophany to convey a sense of the power

of Yahweh, to whom the elemental forces of nature render homage as
minions and adjuncts in his royal service. He paints a picture with colors
borrowed from the palette of Canaanite lore, to the greater glory of the
true God. It is a picture of Yahweh majestically manifesting himself from
his celestial tent or palace. He appears royally clad in radiant light, travel-
ing on cloud and wind, and attended by an impressive retinue. He comes
down to create the earth and to impose upon it his benevolent order, and
thus to extend from heaven to earth his achievement of dominion.47
Likewise, Hossfeld contrasts the language here with that of Ps 103:19–22 (“Bless
the Lord, O his angels, mighty creatures who do his bidding . . . Bless the
Lord, all his hosts, his servants who do his will”). The idea in Ps 104:4 is that of
the cloud voyage: riding on the wings of the winds (cf. Ps 18:11), with wind
and lightning for company. The common designation of these compan-
ions as “the heavenly court” levels the difference between this and Ps
103:19–22. In the latter case, the subject is the personnel of the royal court;
here in Psalm 104 cosmic phenomena are being metaphorized.48
Though this is the case in the Hebrew, a different understanding came to

the forefront when the passage was translated into Greek. In the Septuagint
(Ps 103:4), ‫ מלאך‬is rendered with ἄγγελος, which too may be defined broadly
as messenger or specifically as angel, and ‫ רוח‬becomes πνεῦμα: ὁ ποιῶν τοὺς
ἀγγέλους αὐτοῦ πνεύματα καὶ τοὺς λειτουργοὺς αὐτοῦ πῦρ φλέγον. The syn-
tax of the key phrase is admittedly ambiguous in the Hebrew, with context
the determinative feature. One also finds contrasting understandings of the
46 The translations differ on the use of second or third person pronouns because of the use
of participles rather than finite verbs in the Hebrew. See the discussion in Gerstenberger,
Psalms, Part 2, 222.
47 Leslie C. Allen, Psalms 101–150 (WBC 21; Waco, Tex.: Word, 1983), 33.
48 Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 3, 49. Compare the less confident assessment of Ps 103:19–22
in Olyan, A Thousand Thousands, 42–44.
78 Mason
syntax of the Greek, which may depart from the meaning of the Hebrew.49
Albert Pietersma’s rendering in the New English Translation of the Septuagint
is: “He who makes spirits his messengers [with “angels” a footnoted option],
and flaming fire his ministers.” Paul Ellingworth offers a similar translation
for both the Septuagint and Heb 1:7.50 On the other hand, Harold W. Attridge
asserts that in the Septuagint (and subsequently in the passage’s citation by
the author of Hebrews) the angels are acted upon, thus “he makes his angels
winds.”51 Hossfeld’s view is similar: “the lxx does not comprehend the imagery
of the MT; the picture is changed to a description of the functions or duties of
the divine court.”52 When the quotation appears in Heb 1:7 (essentially follow-
ing the Septuagint), most interpreters read it in a way similar to the render-
ing of Attridge (above), but Craig R. Koester prefers the translation “the one
who makes his angels spirits,” not “winds,” because the author of Hebrews con-
cludes the discussion in 1:14 by reminding the audience that angels are “min-
istering spirits” (λειτουργικὰ πνεύματα) sent to serve humanity.53 One might
question whether v. 14 necessitates the rendering “spirits” in 1:7; “winds” better
preserves the parallel with “fire” in 1:7, and the author is certainly free to exploit
an alternate meaning of πνεῦμα in 1:14. Overall, the translation of the Greek
offered by Attridge is preferable. Regardless of how the grammar is construed,
subsequent interpreters of Ps 104:4 felt free to harvest various terms from this
context and reuse them in ways that make clear their dependence on this text.
49 Allen (Psalms 101–150, 26) comments that “the quotation of v. 4 in Heb 1:7 is basically
from lxx and is understood in a disparaging sense by reversing predicate and object, an
interpretation which is grammatically possible but contextually improbable.” L. Timothy
Swinson (“ ‘Wind’ and ‘Fire’ in Hebrews 1:7, A Reflection upon the Use of Psalm 104 [103],”
TJ 28 n.s. [2007]: 215–28) defends the consistency of the context and wording in the origi-
nal psalm, the lxx, and Hebrews’ citation.
50 Ellingworth, Hebrews, 120. He proposes “who makes winds his messengers” for the first
part of the line in the Septuagint and “he makes winds his angels, and a flame of fire his
servants” for Heb 1:7.
51 Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia;
Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 49, cf. 57–58 n. 83. Elsewhere Attridge explains the grammat-
ical reason for this construal: “The definite nouns τοὺς ἀγγέλους and τοὺς λειτουργοὺς αύτου
would normally be construed as first objects and the indefinite πνεύματα and πυρὸς φλόγα
as second or predicate accusatives.” See Harold W. Attridge, “The Psalms in Hebrews,” in
The Psalms in the New Testament (ed. Steve Moyise and Maarten J. J. Menken; London:
T&T Clark, 2004), 197–212, esp. p. 202, n. 20. O’Brien (Letter, 71 n. 165) agrees for similar
reasons.
This summary has confirmed that no creation text in the Hebrew Bible
explicitly explains the origins of angels. Attention now turns to use by sub-
sequent interpreters of one of these texts (sometimes in combination with
another) to provide such an explanation, but such use will not be universal.
Use of Psalm 104:4 in Second Temple Period Texts

Several texts from the Second Temple period cite or allude to Ps 104:4, and con-
sideration of their use of this verse allows for observation of different ways
early exegetes could speak of angels and their origins. The intent here is to
provide examples, not to be comprehensive, and the “Second Temple” period
is defined broadly. Also, some possible allusions to Ps 104:4 may be too vague
for much comment. For example, in a passage describing Enoch’s tour of the
earth and Sheol, one reads in 1 En. 17:1, “And they took me (and) led (me) away
to a certain place in which those who were there were like a flaming fire; and
whenever they wished, they appeared as human beings.”54 While this descrip-
tion may reflect the prominent interpretative trajectory in which the psalm
is used to present angels as created from fire, George W. E. Nickelsburg urges
caution about identification of these fiery figures, noting that “the descrip-
tion here is too evasive in a context of frequent, matter-of-fact references to
angels.”55 Though angels can be discussed elsewhere in 1 En. 1–36 in the context
of fire—and fire is described as punishment for disobedient angels in ch. 21—
their creation is not discussed in the Book of the Watchers. Instead, in 1 En. 15
their intended nature is contrasted in several ways with that of mortals, whose
sexual behavior the fallen Watchers have adopted: angels are spirits, but mor-
tals are flesh and blood; angels are eternal, not dying, and thus have no need for
wives, but mortals perish and thus must procreate.56
Angels as Created Beings in Second Temple Period Texts
Numerous interpreters did understand angels as created by God from fire on

the basis of Ps 104:4 (along with other elements mentioned in the psalm).
54 The translation is that of George W. E. Nickelsburg and James C. VanderKam, 1 Enoch: The
Hermeneia Translation (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 38.
55 George W. E. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1–36;
81–108 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001), 281.
56 Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, 272.
80 Mason
The author of Jubilees explicitly follows this interpretation with appeal to this
verse. The setting is the giving of the law at Sinai. God calls Moses to the moun-
tain, but after God foretells the destiny of Israel, an angel of the presence is
summoned to take the “tablets of the divisions of years” (Jub. 1:29) and read
them to Moses.57 The angel’s narration begins with a reworking of the Gen 1
account of creation, supplemented with elements from the Gen 2 account and
other biblical and extracanonical traditions. The very obvious insertion of the
creation of angels stands out:
For on the first day he created the heavens that are above, and the earth,
the waters, and all of the spirits who serve before him, namely, the angels
of the presence; the angels of holiness; the angels of the spirits of fire; the
angels of the spirits of the winds; the angels of the spirits of the clouds,
of darkness, snow, hail, and frost; the angels of the sounds, the thunders,
and the lightnings; and the angels of the spirits of cold and heat, of win-
ter, spring, autumn, and summer, and of all the spirits of his creatures
which are in the heavens, on earth, and in every (place). [There were
also] the depths, darkness and light, dawn and evening which he pre-
pared through the knowledge of his mind. Then we saw his works and
blessed him. We offered praise before him regarding all his works because
he had made seven great works on the first day. (Jub. 2:2–3)58
The passage is full of biblical allusions, and clearly the constellation of fire,
wind, and clouds points to Ps 104:3–4, even if the mention of fire is lacking in
some manuscripts.59 Not only that, but the author of Jubilees has stipulated the
day—the first day—on which the angels were created using the schema of
the Gen 1 week. (Later in Jub. 15 the author again will speak in passing about the
creation of angels of the presence and angels of sanctification.) Jacques van
Ruiten notes that the author has taken an expansive approach to God’s activity
on the first day, including the materials in Gen 1:1–2 that normally are read as
preceding creation proper. Doing so allows the author to present God as creat-
ing seven things on the first day; nothing is allowed to exist before creation,
57 See James C. VanderKam, “The Angel of the Presence in the Book of Jubilees,” DSD 7
(2000): 378–93, which includes an overview of discussion of angels in the book.
58 The translation is that of James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (CSCO 511; Scriptores
Aethiopici 88; Leuven: Peeters, 1989), 7–8. Italics, parentheses, and brackets are his.
59 As noted by Orval S. Wintermute, OTP 2:55 n. b.
and the seven things created match the seven categories of angels created.60
The passage ends with the angels blessing God, reminiscent of other traditions
that describe angels rejoicing when they see God’s handiwork (e.g., Job 38:7
and the Qumran “Hymn to the Creator” [see below]).
This Jub. 2 passage is extant in 4QJubileesa, and Raija Sollamo emphasizes
that the explicit correlation of angels with natural phenomena in this account
is a foundational contribution, one likely rooted in the language of Ps 104:4.61
Sollamo also notes that a similar list of phenomena appears in the “Hymn of
the Three Young Men” in Dan 3:57–73 lxx, but there the things listed are called
to praise God and are not associated explicitly with classes of angels.62 Still
others suggest a connection with the aforementioned “Hymn to the Creator”
in 11QPsa from Qumran.63 This hymn uses theophoric language but nothing
that explicitly links it to Ps 104:4. Elsewhere in the Dead Sea Scrolls, one reads
in 1QS 3:15–17 that God created two spirits, the Prince of Light (later called
the “angel of his truth”) and the Angel of Darkness. The possible reflection of
Ps 104:4 concerns the synonymous use of angel and spirit, perhaps reflecting a
conflation of terms in the verse, though angels and spirits may also be called
“eternal” in the corpus as well.64 To summarize, the verse is extant in Qumran
biblical manuscripts, but no explicit citation has survived in non-biblical man-
uscripts. It seems likely, however, that some texts do reflect the interpretation
of the verse as describing the creation of angels.
60 Jacques van Ruiten, “Angels and Demons in the Book of Jubilees,” in Angels: The Concept
of Celestial Beings—Origins, Development and Reception (ed. Friedrich V. Reiterer, Tobias
Nicklas, and Karin Schöpflin; Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook 2007;
Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), 585–609, esp. pp. 587–89.
61 Raija Sollamo, “The Creation of Angels and Natural Phenomena Intertwined in the Book
of Jubilees (4QJuba): Angels and Natural Phenomena as Characteristics of the Creation
Stories and Hymns in Late Second Temple Judaism,” in Biblical Traditions in Transmission:
Essays in Honour of Michael A. Knibb (ed. Charlotte Hempel and Judith M. Lieu; JSJSup 111;
Leiden: Brill, 2006), 273–90, esp. pp. 274–76.
62 Sollamo, “Creation,” 277–82.
63 Patrick W. Skehan, “Jubilees and the Qumran Psalter,” CBQ 37 (1975): 343–47. See also the
discussions by Sollamo (“Creation,” 282–84) and van Ruiten (“Angels,” 589–90).
64 The language of Ps 104:4 likely also is reflected in 1QHa 9.12–13 (Sukenik 1.10–11) and 4Q392
1.9. The former has meteorological elements similar to Jubilees and implies the creation
of angelic spirits. The latter also is meteorological but is fragmentary. See also Cecilia
Wassen, “Angels in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Angels: The Concept of Celestial Beings—
Origins, Development and Reception (ed. Friedrich V. Reiterer, Tobias Nicklas, and Karin
Schöpflin; Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook 2007; Berlin: de Gruyter,
2007), 499–523, esp. p. 514.
82 Mason
A interpretation similar to that found in Jubilees appears in 2 Enoch, a text

notoriously difficult to date but perhaps stemming (at least in part) from the
first century ce.65 As in Jubilees, the context is a reworking of the seven-day
creation sequence from Gen 1, though now the creation of angels is dated
to the second day (as is the rebellion of the archangel Satanail and his min-
ions shortly after their creation, leading to their expulsion from heaven).66
One reads in 2 En. 29:3 that God created angelic armies from fire (cf. perhaps
also 39:5):67
And from the rock I cut off a great fire, and from the fire I created the
ranks of the bodiless armies—ten myriad angels—and their weapons are
fiery and their clothes are burning flames. And I gave orders that each
should stand in his own rank. [mss J]
From the rock I cut off a great fire, and ⟨from⟩ the fire I created all the
armies of the bodiless ones, and all the armies of the stars and cherubim
and seraphim and ophanim, and all these from the fire I cut out. [mss A]
(OTP 1:148–49)
Similarly, in T. Adam 1:12, a very different kind of text, the “ranks of fire and
wind” may also be angels.
Finally, the very brief allusion to Ps 104:4 in 2 Baruch also fits this main inter-
pretative trajectory. The comments about the creation of angels in Jubilees and
2 Enoch, both incorporating Ps 104:4, appear in settings where information
about creation as a whole is revealed to a human character from the Bible,
following more or less the Gen 1 pattern with adaptations. In Jubilees, Moses is
instructed by the angel of the presence; in 2 Enoch, the visionary is instructed
by God. Both events are in contexts of the revelation of heavenly information.
Oddly, in 2 Baruch the use of Ps 104:4 is not found in that kind of rehearsal of
creation, but it does appear in a passage that recalls an angelic fall tradition
65 Dating was an important point of discussion at the Fifth Enoch Seminar (Naples, Italy,
2009) and is considered (directly or indirectly) in the essays by Christfried Böttrich,
Liudmila Navtanovich, Grant Macaskill, Andrei A. Orlov, and David W. Suter in the con-
ference volume New Perspectives on 2 Enoch: No Longer Slavonic Only (ed. Andrei A. Orlov
and Gabriele Boccaccini; Studia Judaeoslavica 4; Leiden: Brill, 2012).
66 Van Ruiten (“Angels,” 588 n. 14) notes days angels may be said to be created in Second
Temple period and later texts: the second day here and in Tg. Ps.-J. Gen 1:26 and Pirqe
R. El. 4; the fifth day in Gen. Rab. 1:3. As noted above, Jub. 2 dates this to day one.
67 On the text see F. I. Anderson, OTP 1:162, note d.
(as in 2 Enoch). One reads in Baruch’s creation-themed prayer in 21:6–7 the

description of God as:
guiding with great purpose the hosts that are standing before you. Also,
the holy beings who are without number, whom you have made from
the beginning from flame and fire, those that are around your throne,
you are guiding with force. To you alone does this belong that you can do
instantly whatever you want.68
Despite the explicit statement here about the creation of angels, the author
can rehearse the order of creation in 2 Bar. 14:17–19 with no mention of angels.69
A Different Use of Psalm 104:4 in 4 Ezra

One encounters a different use of Ps 104:4 in 4 Ezra 8:20–22. Ezra is presented
as engaging God directly, not through an angelic mediator. In a prayer begging
for God’s mercy on creation, he describes the heavenly throne scene:
O Lord who dwellest forever, whose heavens are exalted and whose upper
chambers are in the air, whose throne is beyond measure, and whose
glory is beyond comprehension, before whom the hosts of angels stand
68 The translation is that of Matthias Henze in Michael E. Stone and Matthias Henze, 4 Ezra
and 2 Baruch: Translations, Introductions, and Notes (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013), 95–96.
See also 56:11, which may also speak of the creation of angels (“for they possessed freedom
in that time in which they were created,” A. F. J. Klijn, OTP 1:641), though Henze translates
the later phrase in reference to the creation of Adam instead (123). The context is the
discussion of the angelic fall and imprisonment of those who cohabitated with mortal
women.
69 Michael Stone finds another reflection of Ps 104:4 in 2 Bar. 48:8—“You command the
flames through signs of fear and force, and they change into spirits. With a word you bring
into existence that which was not, and you hold with great power that which has not yet
come” (Stone and Henze, 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch, 112, emphasis added). Daniel M. Gurtner
(Second Baruch: A Critical Edition of the Syriac Text [Jewish and Christian Texts in Contexts
and Related Studies 5; London: T&T Clark, 2009], 83) also understands the passage to
speak of “spirits,” whereas Klijn opts for “winds” in OTP 1:635. The context does evoke a
creation setting, but angels are mentioned a few lines later with no comment that they are
created figures (“Armies without number stand before you and serve in their orders qui-
etly at your sign,” 48:10 [Stone and Henze, 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch, 112]). See Michael Edward
Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1990), 273.
84 Mason
trembling and at whose command they are changed to wind and fire,
whose word is sure and whose utterances are certain, whose ordinance is
strong and whose command is terrible . . .70
Here the idea seems to be not that angels are created from wind and fire, but
rather that God’s incomparable power and dominion is being affirmed, that is,
God may transform even the heavenly retinue.71
Several other statements in the book—all recitals of creation—may rein-
force this understanding. In 6:1–6, God affirms control over the events of the
end of the age by reminding Ezra that all was planned even before creation.
The passage is full of creation language, but the way angels are discussed is
unusual. They are not identified as created, but rather God’s plan is said to
have been established “before the innumerable hosts of angels were gathered
together” (6:3), among several other things. The language of gathering, not
forming or creating, is unexpected, and one might be tempted to find here
faint echoes of the approach to Israel’s adaptation of the Canaanite pantheon
discussed earlier with reference to Smith and Handy.72 Elsewhere in 4 Ezra
creation can be described—even in lengthy accounts—without mention of
angels (6:38–54, but see the “spirit of the firmament” on day 2).73 Overall, the
70 The translation is that of Michael E. Stone in Stone and Henze, 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch, 53–54.
The translation of the first phrase of 8:22 follows the Syriac. Cf. the Latin “they whose
service takes the form of wind and fire” (B. M. Metzger, OTP 1:542 n. j. [emphasis added]).
71 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 273) writes that the key phrase “expresses the idea that the angelic
hosts, at God’s command, are transformed into fire and water.” Presumably “water”
is accidental here, as the passage discusses fire and wind; Stone connects those terms to
Ps 104:4. Stone implies that the author of 4 Ezra also holds to the interpretative trajectory
described above, as an explanation for the creation of angels. He cites several texts dis-
cussed here but also provides examples from rabbinic literature, including Gen. Rab. 78:1
and Pirqe R. El. 4. The latter is especially significant, as it states that angels were created
on the second day and are transformed to winds when sent as messengers, but fire when
ministering in the heavenly court. See also n. 66 above.
72 Compare Stone’s approach, though he identifies angels as created beings here. He argues
that luminaries must be intended in the previous and parallel phrase “before the powers
of movement were established” (emphasis mine) and notes that the association of such
stars with angelic beings reflects “demythologized pagan deities, although that is far in
the background in our text” (Fourth Ezra, 157 n. 97). Stone also notes, however, that the
“powers of movement” may also be earthquakes, an identification supported by the Syriac
version.
73 A similar passage, with the reminder that it is folly to seek to hide sins from God and his
angels, appears as 16:51–67 (in an appendix) in the translation of 4 Ezra in OTP 1:555. This
impression is that the author of 4 Ezra did not share the trajectory discussed
earlier of interpreting Ps 104:4 as pertaining to the creation of angels.
The discussion thus far has established two major points. First, there is no
explicit statement in the Hebrew Bible that angels were created beings. Instead,
it seems likely that for many centuries ancient Hebrews simply assumed their
eternal existence. Second, clearly something changed later, and the trajectory
of interpretation of Ps 104:4 noted here demonstrates that many Jews did come
to think of angels as created beings. It is beyond the scope of this paper to
consider why such a dramatic shift occurred, but the example of 4 Ezra dem-
onstrates that varying positions nevertheless persisted despite the emergence
of the dominant creation approach.
Hebrews 1:7
Attention now returns to Heb 1:7, where the citation of the psalm text appears
in the midst of the catena of quotations in 1:5–14 demonstrating the superior-
ity of the Son over the angels. As is frequently noted, the passages cited are
normally about God or the Davidic king in their original contexts (with the
author now applying them to the Son), but the citation in v. 7 differs in that it
is specifically about the angels.74 The introductory formulation beginning with
the preposition πρός is variously rendered as “of,” “to,” or “about the angels he
says.” God is the speaker, as also in vv. 1, 5, and 13 of this chapter, and now the
Son is the figure with dominion over the angels.75 The author moves in the next
citation, of Ps 45 (lxx 44):7–8 in Heb 1:8–9, to stress the abiding, eternal reign
of the Son. With a similar introductory formula, now “but of the Son he says,”
one reads, “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.”76
Near the beginning of this chapter I mentioned two reasonable arguments
for why one might assume that Heb 1:7 indicates that the author of Hebrews
considered angels to be created beings. The first of these was that numerous
Second Temple period interpreters drew upon Ps 104:4 to make that argument.
Indeed, the survey of texts in the present study has affirmed this common
tendency, yet such is not universal, as 4 Ezra 8 gives witness to an alternative
is a later addition to 4 Ezra and today is classified as part of 6 Ezra. See Stone and Henze,
4 Ezra and 2 Baruch, 8.
75 On the status of the Son, see, for example, Meier, “Symmetry,” 512; contra Ellingworth,
Hebrews, 120, as discussed earlier.
76 Translations of Hebrews are adapted from the NRSV.
86 Mason
approach that instead asserts divine dominion over the angels.77 (Recall also
the comment of Hossfeld cited above that the earliest version of Ps 104 “looks
to the conservatio and gubernatio of creation.”) While the presence of an alter-
native use of Ps 104:4 in 4 Ezra 8 certainly does not demand that Hebrews also
departs from the more common interpretative tradition, the similarities of
approach in these two passages are striking.78
The second reasonable argument mentioned above concerned the verb
ποιέω. It was used in the Septuagint to translate ‫ ברא‬in Gen 1:1, and it renders
‫ עשה‬in both Gen 2:4 and Ps 104:4. The author of Hebrews also used the word in
Heb 1:2, when he affirmed that the Son is the one “through whom [God] also
created [or made] the worlds.” Yet these lexical connections are not decisive.
Septuagintal usage of ποιέω certainly includes creation contexts, but other
meanings are also common.79 Even more significant for the present discus-
sion is that elsewhere in Hebrews the author uses the term seventeen more
times in various contexts: Jesus’s work of atonement (1:3; 7:27); God’s appoint-
ment of Moses (3:2); an exhortation toward maturity (6:3); construction of the
earthly sanctuary (8:5); God’s covenant-making activity (8:9); doing the will
of God (10:7, 9, 36; 13:21a); keeping the Passover (11:28); making straight paths
(12:13); created things that will be shaken (12:27); potentially harmful actions
of others (13:6); the task of spiritual oversight (13:17); the obligation to pray
(13:19); and God’s work in the lives of believers (13:21b). Indeed, even if one
finds the author’s use of ποιέω in 1:2 especially significant, the author “inherits”
the term in the quotation in 1:7; he does not adapt his quoted text to insert it
intentionally.
One should also note analyses of the structure of the passage that might
imply a “creation” link between Heb 1:2 and 1:7. Perhaps the most influential is
that of John Meier, who proposes a “ring structure” relationship between the
affirmations about the Son in 1:1–4 and the series of biblical citations in 1:5–14.80
His argument is carefully nuanced: he does not assert a full one-to-one corre-
spondence between the affirmations and citations, but he does find a general
77 The importance of this parallel text was recognized as early as 1924 by James Moffatt
(A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews [ICC; Edinburgh: T&T
Clark, 1924], 12). Like many subsequent commentators, he finds here an emphasis on the
power to transform angels: “The meaning might also be that God makes angels out of
wind and fire; but this is less apt.”
78 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 10) dates that text to the last two decades of the first century ce,
roughly the time many interpreters of Hebrews date its composition as well.
79 See Herbert Braun, “ποιέω, κτλ,” TDNT 6:458–84 (459–60, 467–71 on the lxx); cf. Walter
Radl, “ποιέω,” EDNT 3:123–26, on usage in the New Testament.
80 Meier, “Structure,” and Meier, “Symmetry,” both published in 1985.
correspondence between the two series that unfolds in a linear manner. The
key observation for the present discussion is that he ultimately correlates the
comment about the Son’s activity in creation in v. 2 with the citation of Ps 104:4
in v. 7.
Meier’s proposal merits careful consideration, but here a few brief com-
ments must suffice.81 Meier’s “ring structure” begins with the theme of exalta-
tion (1:2b//1:5–6) and moves through the themes of creation (1:2c//1:7), eternal
existence (1:3a//1:8bc), conservation of creation (1:3b//1:10–12), and death and
entry into the heavenly sanctuary (1:3c//no citation parallel) before conclud-
ing with exaltation (1:3d//1:13) and the result of exaltation (1:4//1:14 [no citation
parallel]).82 With (perhaps surprisingly) few adaptations, however, this struc-
ture of thematic parallels may be rearranged in a chiastic rather than linear
manner. A major advantage of such an arrangement is that it allows for the cor-
relation of Heb 1:7 with 1:3b (“he sustains all things by his powerful word”) and
thus an emphasis on the Son’s dominion. The creation language of 1:2c finds
a more natural correlation with the quotation of Ps 101:26–28 in Heb 1:10–12
(“In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth . . .”).83
Conclusion
In conclusion, neither a precedent for the interpretation of Ps 104:4 nor lexical

considerations demand that the author of Hebrews considered angels to be
created beings. While one ultimately cannot claim to know fully what was in
the mind of the author, his use of Ps 104:4 appears to serve a different function.
The emphasis in Heb 1:7 concerns the dominion of the Son over the angels, not
81 I commented briefly on a proposed chiastic reading of Heb 1:1–14 in a paper presented at
the Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting in November 2010 (on which this chap-
ter is based) and offered a more detailed engagement with Meier’s proposal at the Society
of Biblical Literature International Meeting in London in July 2011. An article based on the
latter paper is forthcoming. The chiastic proposal of Victor (Sung Yul) Rhee was published
in 2012; our work developed independently and has different emphases. See his article
“The Role of Chiasm for Understanding Christology in Hebrews 1:1–14,” JBL 131 (2012):
341–62.
82 Meier never provides a chart of his correlations but does summarize them in “Symmetry,”
523–24. He provides a graphical representation of the “ring-structure” for the affirmations
of 1:2b–4 in “Structure,” 189.
83 Rhee gives very little attention to the significance of the Ps 104:4 quotation, which
he includes in a correlation of 1:2c–3b and 1:7–12 under the theme “The Son in His
Preexistence” (“Role of Chiasm,” 348–54, esp. p. 351).
88 Mason
the creation of angels, and this emphasis is paralleled in the use of the psalm’s
language in at least one other Second Temple period text, 4 Ezra 8:20–22. If this
interpretation is correct and the author of Hebrews does not consider angels to
be created beings, it removes a significant obstacle for the idea that the author
understands Melchizedek as an angelic figure whose eternal priesthood may
be compared to that held by Jesus.
Bibliography
Allen, David L. Hebrews. New American Commentary. Nashville, Tenn.: B&H, 2010.
Cockerill, Gareth Lee. The Epistle to the Hebrews. New International Commentary on
the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012.
Moffatt, James. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews.
International Critical Commentary. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1924.
Montefiore, Hugh. A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. Black’s New Testament
Commentaries. London: A&C Black, 1964.
O’Brien, Peter T. The Letter to the Hebrews. Pillar New Testament Commentary. Grand
Thompson, James W. Hebrews. Paideia. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008.
Other Literature
Allen, Leslie C. Allen. Psalms 101–150. Word Biblical Commentary 21. Waco, Tex.: Word,
1983.
Anderson, Francis I. “2 (Slavonic Apocalypse of) Enoch.” Pages 91–221 in vol. 1 of Old
Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York:
Doubleday, 1983.
Attridge, Harold W. “The Psalms in Hebrews.” Pages 197–212 in The Psalms in the New
Testament. Edited by Steve Moyise and Maarten J. J. Menken. London: T&T Clark,
2004.
Bamberger, Bernard J., Joshua Gutmann, Arthur Mamorstein, Dov Shmuel Flattau,
Samuel Abba Horodezky, Alexander Altmann, and Bernhard Blumenkranz. “Angels
and Angelology.” Pages 150–61 in vol. 2 of Encyclopedia Judaica. 2nd ed. Edited by
Fred Skolik. 22 vols. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007.
Bateman, Herbert W., IV. Early Jewish Hermeneutics and Hebrews 1:5–13: The Impact of
Early Jewish Exegesis on the Interpretation of a Significant New Testament Passage.
American University Studies: Series 7, Theology and Religion, 193. New York: Peter
Lang, 1997.
Bauckham, Richard. “Monotheism and Christology in Hebrews 1.” Pages 167–85 in Early
Jewish and Christian Monotheism. Edited by Loren T. Stuckenbruck and Wendy E. S.
North. Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series 263. London:
T&T Clark, 2004.
Ben Dov, Jonathan. Head of All Years: Astronomy and Calendars at Qumran in Their
Ancient Context. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah 78. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
Blenkinsopp, Joseph. Ezra-Nehemiah. Old Testament Library. Philadelphia: West
minster, 1988.
Braun, Herbert, “ποιέω, κτλ,” Theological Dictionary of the New Testament 6:458–84.
Clifford, Richard J. Creation Accounts in the Ancient Near East and in the Bible. Catholic
Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series 26. Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical
Association of America, 1994.
———. Psalms 73–150. Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries. Nashville, Tenn.:
Abingdon, 2003.
Clines, David J. Job 1–20. Word Biblical Commentary 17. Dallas: Word, 1989.
Cockerill, Gareth Lee. “Melchizedek without Speculation: Hebrews 7.1–25 and Genesis
14.17–24.” Pages 128–44 in A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology of Hebrews in its Ancient
Contexts. Edited by Richard Bauckham, Daniel Driver, Trevor Hart, and Nathan
Macdonald. Library of New Testament Studies 387. London: T&T Clark, 2008.
Cross, Frank Moore. Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History of the
Religion of Israel. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1973.
Fox, Michael V. Proverbs 1–9. Anchor Bible. New York: Doubleday, 2000.
Gerstenberger, Erhard S. Psalms, Part 2 and Lamentations. Forms of the Old Testament
Literature 15. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001.
Gnuse, Robert Karl. No Other Gods: Emergent Monotheism in Israel. Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1997.
Green, Alberto R. W. The Storm-God in the Ancient Near East. Biblical and Judaic Studies
from the University of California, San Diego 8. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns,
2003.
Gurtner, Daniel M. Second Baruch: A Critical Edition of the Syriac Text. Jewish and
Christian Texts in Contexts and Related Studies 5. London: T&T Clark, 2009.
90 Mason
Habel, Norman C. The Book of Job: A Commentary. Old Testament Library. Philadelphia:
Westminster, 1985.
Hamilton, Victor P. “Satan.” Pages 985–89 in vol. 5 of Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by
David N. Freedman. 6 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1992.
Handy, Lowell K. Among the Host of Heaven: The Syro-Phoenician Pantheon as
Bureaucracy. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1994.
———. “Dissenting Deities or Obedient Angels: Divine Hierarchies in Ugarit and the
Bible.” Biblical Research 35 (1990): 18–35.
Heil, John Paul. Hebrews: Chiastic Structures and Audience Response. Catholic Biblical
Quarterly Monograph Series 46. Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of
America, 2010.
Hossfeld, Frank-Lothar, and Eric Zenger. Psalms 3. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress,
2011.
Klijn, Albertus F. J. “2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch.” Pages 615–52 in vol. 1 of Old
Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York:
Doubleday, 1983.
Kraus, Hans-Joachim. Psalms 1–59. Continental Commentaries. Minneapolis: Augsburg,
1988.
———. Psalms 60–150. Continental Commentaries. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1989.
Kugel, James L. A Walk through Jubilees: Studies in the Book of Jubilees and the World of
its Creation. Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism 156. Leiden: Brill,
2012.
Mach, Michael. Entwicklungsstadien des jüdischen Engelglaubens in vorrabbinischer
Zeit. Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum 34. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992.
Machiela, Daniel A. The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon: A New Text and Translation with
Introduction and Special Treatment of Columns 13–17. Studies on the Texts of the
Desert of Judah 79. Leiden: Brill, 2009.
Mason, Eric F. “2 Baruch, 4 Ezra, and the Epistle to the Hebrews: Three Approaches to
the Interpretation of Psalm 104:4.” Pages 61–71 in Interpreting 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch:
International Studies. Edited by Gabriele Boccaccini and Jason M. Zurawski. Library
of Second Temple Studies 87. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2014.
———. “Hebrews 7:3 and the Relationship between Melchizedek and Jesus.” Biblical
Research 50 (2005): 41–62.
———. “You Are a Priest Forever”: Second Temple Jewish Messianism and the Priestly
Christology of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah
74. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
Meier, John P. “Structure and Theology in Heb 1,1–14.” Biblica 66 (1985): 168–89.
———. “Symmetry and Theology in the Old Testament Citations of Heb 1,5–14.” Biblica
66 (1985): 504–33.
Mettinger, Tryggve N. D. “Yahweh Zebaoth.” Pages 920–24 in Dictionary of Deities and

Demons in the Bible. Edited by Karel van der Toorn, Bob Becking, and Pieter W. van
der Horst. 2nd ed. Leiden: Brill, 1995.
Metzger, Bruce M. “The Fourth Book of Ezra.” Pages 517–59 in vol. 1 of Old Testament
Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York: Doubleday,
1983.
Michalak, Aleksander R. Angels as Warriors in Late Second Temple Jewish Literature.
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 2/330. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2012.
Miller, Patrick D. “Fire in the Mythology of Canaan and Israel.” Catholic Biblical
Quarterly 27 (1965): 256–61.
———. The Religion of Ancient Israel. Library of Ancient Israel. Louisville, Ky.:
Westminster John Knox, 2000.
Mullen, E. Theodore, Jr. The Divine Council in Canaanite and Early Hebrew Literature.
Harvard Semitic Monographs 24. Chico, Calif.: Scholars, 1980.
Murphy, Roland E. Proverbs. Word Biblical Commentary 22. Nashville, Tenn.: Nelson,
1998.
Nickelsburg, George W. E. 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1–36;
81–108. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001.
Nickelsburg, George W. E., and James C. VanderKam. 1 Enoch: The Hermeneia
Translation. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012.
Ollenburger, Ben C., ed. Old Testament Theology: Flowering and Future. Sources for
Biblical and Theological Study 1. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2004.
Olyan, Saul M. A Thousand Thousands Served Him: Exegesis and the Naming of Angels
in Ancient Judaism. Texte und Studien zum antiken Judentum 36. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1993.
Orlov, Andrei A., and Gabriele Boccaccini, eds. New Perspectives on 2 Enoch: No Longer
Slavonic Only. Studia Judaeoslavica 4. Leiden: Brill, 2012.
Pope, Marvin H. Job. 3rd ed. Anchor Bible. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1973.
Radl, Walter, “ποιέω,” Exegetical Dictionary of the New Testament 3:123–26.
Reiterer, Friedrich V., Tobias Nicklas, and Karin Schöpflin, eds. Angels: The Concept of
Celestial Beings—Origins, Development and Reception. Deuterocanonical and
Cognate Literature Yearbook 2007. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007.
Rhee, Victor (Sung Yul) Rhee. “The Role of Chiasm for Understanding Christology in
Hebrews 1:1–14.” Journal of Biblical Literature 131 (2012): 341–62.
Ruiten, Jacques van. “Angels and Demons in the Book of Jubilees.” Pages 585–609 in
Angels: The Concept of Celestial Beings—Origins, Development and Reception. Edited
by Friedrich V. Reiterer, Tobias Nicklas, and Karin Schöpflin. Deuterocanonical and
Cognate Literature Yearbook 2007. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007.
92 Mason
Sarna, Nahum M. Genesis. JPS Torah Commentary. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication

Society, 1989.
Seow, C. L. Job 1–21: Interpretation and Commentary. Illuminations. Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2013.
Skehan, Patrick W. “Jubilees and the Qumran Psalter.” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 37
(1975): 343–47.
Smith, Mark S. The Early History of God: Yahweh and the Other Deities in Ancient Israel.
San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1990.
———. God in Translation: Deities in Cross-Cultural Discourse in the Biblical World.
Forschungen zum Alten Testament 57. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008.
———. The Memoirs of God: History, Memory, and the Experience of the Divine in
Ancient Israel. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004.
———. The Origins of Biblical Monotheism: Israel’s Polytheistic Background and the
Ugaritic Texts. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.
Sollamo, Raija. “The Creation of Angels and Natural Phenomena Intertwined in the
Book of Jubilees (4QJuba): Angels and Natural Phenomena as Characteristics of the
Creation Stories and Hymns in Late Second Temple Judaism.” Pages 273–90 in
Biblical Traditions in Transmission: Essays in Honour of Michael A. Knibb. Edited by
Charlotte Hempel and Judith M. Lieu. Supplements to the Journal for the Study of
Judaism 111. Leiden: Brill, 2006.
Stone, Michael E. Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra. Hermeneia.
Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990.
Stone, Michael E., and Matthias Henze. 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch: Translations, Introductions,
and Notes. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2013.
Swinson, L. Timothy. “ ‘ Wind’ and ‘Fire’ in Hebrews 1:7, A Reflection upon the Use of
Psalm 104 [103].” Trinity Journal n.s. 28 (2007): 215–28.
Termini, Cristina. “Philo’s Thought within the Context of Middle Judaism.” Pages
95–123 in The Cambridge Companion to Philo. Edited by Adam Kamesar. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2009.
Terrien, Samuel. The Psalms: Strophic Structure and Theological Commentary. Eerdmans
Critical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003.
Thompson, Henry O. “Yahweh.” Pages 1011–12 in vol. 6 of Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited
by David N. Freedman. 6 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1992.
Thompson, James W. The Beginnings of Christian Philosophy: The Epistle to the Hebrews.
Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series 13. Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical
Toorn, Karel van der. “Sun.” Pages 237–39 in vol. 6 of Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by
David N. Freedman. 6 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1992.
———. “Yahweh.” Pages 910–19 in Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible. Edited
by Karel van der Toorn, Bob Becking, and Pieter W. van der Horst. 2nd ed. Leiden:
Brill, 1995.
VanderKam, James C. “The Angel of the Presence in the Book of Jubilees.” Dead Sea
Discoveries 7 (2000): 378–93.
———. The Book of Jubilees. Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium 511;
Scriptores Aethiopici 88. Leuven: Peeters, 1989.
Wallace, Robert E. The Narrative Effect of Book IV of the Hebrew Psalter. Studies in
Biblical Literature 112. New York: Peter Lang, 2007.
Wassen, Cecilia. “Angels in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 499–523 in Angels: The Concept
of Celestial Beings—Origins, Development and Reception. Edited by Friedrich V.
Reiterer, Tobias Nicklas, and Karin Schöpflin. Deuterocanonical and Cognate
Literature Yearbook 2007. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007.
Weiser, Artur. The Psalms: A Commentary. Old Testament Library. Philadelphia:
Westminster, 1962.
Wenham, Gordon J. Genesis 1–15. Word Biblical Commentary 1. Dallas: Word, 1987.
Westermann, Claus. Genesis 1–11: A Commentary. Continental Commentaries.
Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984.
———. Isaiah 40–66. Old Testament Library. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969.
Williamson, H. G. M. Ezra, Nehemiah. Word Biblical Commentary 16. Waco, Tex.: Word,
1985.
Wintermute, Orval S. “Jubilees.” Pages 35–142 of vol. 2 of Old Testament Pseudepigrapha.
Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1983.
Zimmerli, Walther. Old Testament Theology in Outline. Atlanta: John Knox, 1978.
Part 2
Greco-Roman and Empire-Critical Contexts
∵
“You Have Become Dull of Hearing”: Hebrews 5:11
and the Rhetoric of Religious Entrepreneurs
Fritz Graf
Introduction
Origen might have been the first to characterize the author of Hebrews
as closer to the Greek world than was Paul. Origen (according to Eusebius)
said of the author’s language that it was Ἑλληνικώτερα, “better Greek,” than
Paul’s usual simple diction (τὸ ἐν λόγῳ ἰδιωτικότερον).1 This encourages me, a
Hellenist with limited experience in biblical scholarship, to take a closer look
at the remarkable text of Hebrews—not with the aim of proving Origen’s point
of style correct, but in order to embed a detail of Hebrews’ argument in a wider
Hellenic tradition. I focus here on one passage, Heb 5:11, and follow its reso-
nances with earlier non-Christian texts as a contribution to our understand-
ing of how the text and its writer fit into such a Hellenic, or perhaps better,
Hellenistic, background.
The Text, Its Platonic Resonance, and the Persona of the Writer
First the text itself. Hebrews 5:11 introduces the lengthy admonitory passage
that runs to 6:12, which in turn interrupts the author’s lengthy exposition on
Melchizedek, the ideal Jewish high priest and prototype of Jesus the high
priest. The author began this exposition in Heb 5:6 with the citation of Ps 110:4,
and he will return to the topic in 6:13 with what seems at first to be a detour
through Abraham that leads back to Melchizedek in 7:1. As a demonstration
of Melchizedek’s prototypical function, the passage is thoroughly allegorical.
Among the many admonitory passages of Hebrews, it shows the strongest
wording, accusing the audience of being hard of hearing and, at the same time,
incapable of doing their duty as teachers to propagate the faith:
About this man [i.e., Melchizedek] we have much to say, and it is hard to
explain, since you have become dull of hearing. For although by this time
you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic
1 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.25.11.

98 Graf
principles of the oracles of God. You have come to need milk, and not
solid food. (Heb 5:11–12)2
In what follows, I will first explore the implications of the term “dull of hearing”
(νωθροὶ ταῖς ἀκοαῖς) and then focus on the didactic voice and its pre-Christian
background in Greek religion.
In contemporary first-century Greek, νωθρός is most commonly used by
medical writers to denote “feebleness” as a medical condition.3 “To become
dull of hearing” would thus mean for a contemporary recipient that the audi-
ence has lost its sense of hearing as the result of some sickness or simply of
aging. John Chrysostom, the fiery and provocative preacher who cited this very
passage much more often than any other Christian writer, confirms this con-
temporary reading when he paraphrases it twice by “You have become weak
and sickly,” using either ἀσθενὴς καὶ ἄῤῥωστος (in his exposition on John) or,
even more explicitly, νωθροὶ καὶ ἐπίνοσοι (in the exposition on Matthew).4
But this expectation of an audience that is either elderly or ill and therefore
not up to its task is shattered in the following sentence: “You have come to
need milk, and not solid food.” The author then explores the ramifications:
For everyone who lives on milk is not experienced in the word of righ-
teousness, for he is a baby. But solid food is for those who are full grown,
who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil.
(Heb 5:13–14)
The audience has not rapidly aged but rather regressed to the state of small
children, who need to be fed with milk. This state goes together with a radi-
cally diminished understanding of ethics. One feels tempted to explain the
rapid shift of metaphors by the highly rhetorical character of the passage—the
speaker wants to rattle his audience, and the juxtaposition of two contradic-
tory images might be a good way of doing this. In their implications—that
the audience are incapable of teaching—the two images converge. Still, there
might be more. In preserved Greek literature, only in one passage is the term
νωθρός applied to learning: in the introduction to Plato’s Theaetetus. The
speaker describes the young Theaetetus (a youthful double of Socrates) as an
exceptional youngster who did not fit into the usual empirical classification of
students in Athens. He divides these students into two opposing groups. Some
2 All translations of Hebrews are my own.

3 See LSJ s.v.
4 See also PG 56:165, 33, where John easily moves from weakness to illness.
“ You Have Become Dull Of Hearing ” 99
students “have quick and ready and retentive wits” but have at the same time
quick and unstable tempers (οἵ τε ὀξεῖς . . . καὶ ἀγχίνοι καὶ μνήμονες ὡς τὰ πολλὰ
καὶ πρὸς τὰς ὀργὰς ὀξύρροποί εἰσι, 144A) that the speaker compares to ships with-
out ballast; others who have stable tempers are “feeble when it comes to study
and full of forgetfulness” (νωθροί πως ἀπαντῶσι πρὸς τὰς μαθήσεις καὶ λήθης
γέμοντες, 144B).
Taken alone, the passage is not very close to Hebrews. Even Ceslas Spicq,
who over fifty years ago collected all Platonic echoes in Hebrews to buttress
his theory of Philonic Platonism as its philosophical background, is somewhat
muted in his analysis, suggesting that the author seems to imitate Plato.5 But
this suggestion gains plausibility if one takes context into account. Both authors
talk about young people who are slow learners and easily forget what they
have learned. Whether consciously or not, the idea presented by the author of
Hebrews resonates with the Theaetetus; the author thus must have read it at
some point in his philosophical or rhetorical training, which would not be sur-
prising if he had any interest in contemporary philosophy. The dialogue is not
only Plato’s key text on epistemology and, on all accounts, the most important
ancient epistemological treatise, even if it ends in aporia; it is also a key text for
the renewal of Platonism in the first and second centuries ce, when the skep-
tical Platonism of the Hellenistic age was replaced by the more metaphysical
Platonism of the so-called Middle Platonists.6 The way the Theaetetus defines
the task of the philosopher and, implicitly, of all humans—to aim at likeness
to God as far as possible (ὁμοίωσις θεῷ κατὰ τὸ δύνατον, 176Β)—becomes the
central teaching of Middle Platonism.7 The author of Hebrews is not alone
in his interest in this dialogue. It has been convincingly shown that several
early Christian writers (Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, Hippolytus)
were familiar with this dialogue, as were also Philo and, presumably, Origen.
The writer of Hebrews thus joins a larger cohort of philosophically educated
Christian writers of the first two centuries of the imperial epoch.8
This identification points to the persona that the writer has adopted here:
he is the philosopher, the intellectual specialist who explains to his slow-
witted students matters that are difficult, δυσερμηνευτά. The adjective occurs
5 “Notre auteur semble ici démarquer Platon,” Ceslas Spicq, L’Épître aux Hébreux (Études
bibliques; Paris: Gabalda, 1952–53), 2:143.
6 John Dillon, The Middle Platonists: 80 BC to AD 220 (London: Duckworth, 1977).
7 Dillon, Middle Platonists, 9: “The withdrawal of the soul from the body . . . became the general
definition among Middle Platonists, in the form ‘Likeness to God’, taken from Theaetetus
176B.”
8 George H. van Kooten, Paul’s Anthropology in Context (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), 177.
100 Graf
only here in the entire New Testament, but it is popular in later Christian
writers,9 mostly (I suspect) as an echo of Hebrews. The same adjective recurs
also in a few non-Christian authors of the imperial epoch who emphasize the
difficulty of what they are about to teach.10 In most cases, a specialist is making
a selling point for his own art by claiming to be able to explain and solve dif-
ficult matters for his clients and reader. Two examples will suffice. The medical
writer Galen (ca. 130–ca. 216 ce) introduces a paragraph where he explains the
complexity of the tongue’s structure with a personal remark: “I myself have
undertaken, to the best of my abilities, to go through matters that are diffi-
cult to explain.”11 Similarly, in a personal epilogue to his work, the professional
dream interpreter Artemidorus of Daldis, Galen’s somewhat older contempo-
rary, makes the point that, thanks to his carefully didactic exposition, he—and
he puts some emphasis on “I” (ἐγώ)—is capable of providing an easy explana-
tion of those composite dreams that to most people appear difficult to under-
stand (δυσερμήνευτοι).12
Ancient doctors and dream interpreters were among a larger group of
specialists who as free entrepreneurs had to make a living in a crowded mar-
ketplace. Soothsayers, magicians, and exorcists were other professionals who
shared this way of life. All were engaged in a propaganda battle with other
specialists. Their position in society and, more elementary, their very living
depended on the outcome of these battles. The ability to explain difficult
9 See LSJ s.v. for a small sample, nothing from Lampe. The attested Christian use after
Hebrews (see ThLG) begins with Origen (five passages, four certain echoes of Hebrews),
peaks with John Chrysostome (twenty-seven, with nine from the two homilies De propheta-
rum obscuritate, PG 56.163–192, and nine from the spurious homily on Melchisedek, PG
56.267–262; the vast majority is either a direct citation or an allusion to Hebrews). In
between, only Gregory of Nyssa (three) and Basil (two) are somewhat further away from
the use in Hebrews but closer to a Platonic use, as shown also by the interpolator of Philo,
Somn. 1.188, and, interestingly, Iamblichus, Vit. Pyth. 34; the two more Platonic passages in
Gregory of Nyssa are from the spurious homily Ad imaginem Dei.
10 Beginning with Posidonius, Frg. 78 Theiler = Diodorus Siculus 2.52.5, on the many colors
of birds, some of whom are not easy to describe.
11 Galen, De simplicium medicamentorum temperamentis ac facultatibus (vol. 11, p. 454
Kühn): ἐγὼ μὲν οὖν, ὡς οἷόν τέ μοι μάλιστα λόγῳ διελθεῖν, ἐπεχείρησα δυσερμήνευτα πράγματα.
12 Artemidorus, Onir. 3.66: τοῦτον οὖν τὸν τρόπον καὶ οἱ ὄνειροι μεμιγμένων τῶν ἐν αὐτοῖς
σημαινομένων εἰκότως εἰσὶ ποικίλοι καὶ τοῖς πολλοῖς δυσερμήνευτοι. ἐγὼ δὲ ὡς εὐπαρακολούθητον
ἕκαστον τῶν σημαινομένων γένηται, ἐν τάξει ἕκαστον καὶ κοσμίως καὶ ὡς μάλιστα ἐνεδέχετο
διδασκαλικῶς ἀνέγραψα. “In this way also the dreams in which the signs are mixed are
obviously complex and to most people difficult to understand. But in order to make them
easy to follow, I have written up each of the signs systematically and as methodically (lit.
teacherly) as possible.” In what follows he compares his method to that of an elementary
teacher.
matters would have served as a selling point for their respective arts.
Artemidorus is a good case in point: in the prologue to his dream books, he
very evidently thinks that he is much better than anybody else in his line of
business. He has not only bought and read every book previously written, but
also for years conversed and competed on the agora with other itinerant dream
interpreters and in this way acquired an unsurpassed theoretical and practi-
cal knowledge of his craft.13 Paul, at least the Paul of Acts 19:13–20, is another
instance: in Ephesus some itinerant Jewish exorcists challenged Paul by using
the name of Jesus in their healing rites, much to their disappointment and also
to their demise.14
“Difficult to understand” (δυσερμηνευτός) will remain one of the catchwords
of these battles of wits. In a Byzantine life of Pachomius, a philosopher comes
to Pachomius’s monastery and challenges the monk with what he thinks is a
“very difficult question” (ζήτημα δυσερμήνευτον) from Scripture; it goes without
saying that the monk answers correctly and without hesitation.15
Freelance Religious Entrepreneurs
This apparent detour leads back to the classical age of Greece and to a remark-
able text. A persona somewhat similar to that of these specialists becomes vis-
ible through a passage in the so-called Derveni Papyrus, a papyrus scroll from a
Macedonian grave dated to about 320 BCE. The work contained in the papyrus
was written about a century earlier, in the late fifth century, before the impact
of Plato’s philosophy, by an unknown author. Although fragments of the text
had been known since 1968 and a pirated partial text appeared in 1982, the full
text was finally published only in 2006.16 On the surface, most of the text is an
allegorical commentary on a late archaic theogony of Orpheus, with the verses
13 See Artemidorus, Onir. 1. On Artemidorus see Daniel E. Harris-McCoy, ed., Artemidorus’
Oneirocritica: Text, Translation, and Commentary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012);
Christina Walde, Antike Traumdeutung und moderne Traumforschung (Düsseldorf:
Artemis & Winkler, 2001), 144–99.
14 For these exorcists, Paul was yet another Jewish miracle healer.
15 François Halkin, Le corpus athénien de saint Pachome (Cahiers d’Orientalisme 2; Geneva:
Cramer, 1982), 11–72, ch. 82.
16 See the critical edition Kyriakos Tsantsanoglou, Gerogios M. Parássoglou, and Theodoros
Kouremenos, eds., The Derveni Papyrus (Studi e Testi per il Corpus dei Papiri Filosofici
Greci e Latini 13; Florence: Olschki, 2006), and the studies collected in Ioanna Papdopoulou
and Leonard Muellner, eds., Poetry as Initiation: The Center for Hellenic Studies Symposium
on the Derveni Papyrus (Hellenic Studies Series 63; Washington, D.C.: Center for Hellenic
Studies, 2014); a remarkable study, although written before the appearance of the critical
102 Graf
of Orpheus explained as statements about physics that are based on an early

form of atomism. But there is more.
The allegorical explanation started in col. vi, which fills the remaining
twenty columns of the text, is interrupted in col. xx by the sudden appearance
of a strong authorial voice:17
As for those people who witnessed the sacred rites in the cities, I wonder
less that they have no understanding, since it is impossible to hear and
at the same time to understand the ritual words; but those who received
the rites from a specialist in the sacred, these people deserve wonder-
ment and pity—wonderment because they think they know before they
are initiated and thus they walk away as initiated before they know and
without having asked, as if they knew already what they saw, heard, and
learned; pity because it is not enough that they have paid in advance,
but on top because they walk away without knowledge: before they per-
formed the rites, they hoped they would know, having performed them,
they walk away robbed even of their hope.
The text is complex, but there is no need to go into all its details in our context.
We hear a speaker who expresses surprise at the behavior of people who are
being initiated (“I wonder,” θαυμάζω); more precisely, he is surprised at the lack
of intellectual curiosity of these people. He distinguishes between two types of
initiation: that carried out in a public setting such as the Eleusinian Mysteries,
where the sheer crowd makes it impossible for the participants to gain a
deeper knowledge of what they just heard, and that in which a ritual specialist
(ὁ τέχνην ποιούμενος τὰ ἱερά, lit. “he who turns the rituals into a craft for him-
self”) initiates individuals: here, the paying client would have leisure to ask for
more information, and he thus would get more value for his money. Scholars
debate whose exactly this speaking voice is.18 I side with those who think that
he is himself one of these private initiators who compete with each other, and
his selling point is that he does not simply perform the rites but rather also
text, is Gábor Betegh, The Derveni Papyrus: Cosmology, Theology, and Interpretation
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004).
17 [ὅσοι δὲ] ἀνθρώπω[ν ἐν] πόλεσιν ἐπιτ̣ελέσαντες [τὰ ἱ]ε̣ρὰ εἶδον, ἔλασσόν σφας θαυμάζω
μὴ γι ̣νώσκειν· οὐ γὰρ οἷόν τε ἀκοῦσαι ὁμοῦ καὶ μαθεῖν τὰ λ̣εγόμενα· ὅσοι δὲ παρὰ τοῦ τέχνην
ποιουμένου τὰ ἱερά, οὗτοι ἄξιοι θαυμάζεσθαι καὶ οἰκτε[ί]ρεσθαι· θαυμάζεσθαι μὲν ὅτι δ̣οκοῦντες
πρότερον ἢ ἐπιτελέσαι εἰδήσειν, ἀπέρχονται ἐπιτελέσαντες πρὶν εἰδέναι οὐδ’ ἐπανερόμενοι ὥσπερ
ὡς εἰδότες τ̣έω
�̣ ν εἶδον ἢ ἤκουσαν ἢ ἔμαθον· [οἰ]κτε⟨ί⟩ρεσθαι δὲ ὅτι οὐκ ἀρκεῖ̣ σφιν τὴν δαπάνην
προανηλῶσ̣ θαι, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῆς̣ γνώμης στερόμενοι πρὸς ἀπέρχονται, πρὶν μὲν τὰ [ἱ]ε̣ρὰ ἐπιτελέσαι
ἐλπίζον̣[τε]ς εἰδήσειν, ἐπ[ιτελέσ]α̣ντ̣[ες] δ̣ὲ στερηθέντες κα̣[ὶ τῆς] ἐλπί[δος] ἀπέρχονται ̣.
18 See the commentary in Tsantsanoglou, et al., eds., The Derveni Papyrus, ad loc.
explains the ritual words (τὰ λεγόμενα). Unlike his rivals who make their cli-
ents pay, lead them through the rites, and neglect to give any explanation, he
is willing to explain. The emphasis on the ritual words, τὰ λεγόμενα, suggests
that he is explaining not just single ritual utterances or prayers but also a more
substantial text. Since all this authorial intrusion happens in the middle of the
allegorical explanation of a theogony of Orpheus, the most natural assump-
tion is that this very theogony was the ritual text used in this initiation ritual.
The speaker (and thus the writer of the allegorical treatise) must have been
an initiator with the necessary knowledge of philosophy to offer an allegori-
cal explanation of his own ritual text to his clients. The allegory makes use of
the physics of Anaxagoras, a contemporary and acquaintance of Socrates. The
speaker claims that this contemporary philosophical knowledge—or rather
his ability to use contemporary philosophy to explain what his clients heard in
the rites—gives him a cutting edge over his many competitors in the business
of ritual entrepreneurship.
This authorial intrusion into the long allegorizing argument comes at an
important point in the story, after the narration of how Zeus made himself the
origin of the entire cosmos by swallowing all previous beings and creating the
cosmos out of himself, and before the story of Zeus’s incest with his mother,
Rhea-Demeter. These two most extreme events in the mythical narration both
urgently need the allegorical explanation that the speaker can provide, in
order not to appear bizarre and beyond credibility.
Initiators such as the speaker are known in Greece at about the time the
original book was written. They were mostly connected with private myster-
ies of Dionysus (whose ritual texts again were supposed to have been writ-
ten or sung by Orpheus). Plato attacks them in a passage in the Republic
(263 AD) where he has Socrates talk about “seers and beggar priests” (μάντεις
καὶ ἀγύρται) who knock on the doors of the rich and sell elaborate private ini-
tiations to guard against the perils of the afterlife as well as binding spells to
help against the perils of this life. In his rather disparaging portrait, Plato turns
such initiators into somewhat lowly ritual specialists. Seen through the eyes of
an Athenian aristocrat and religious moralist such as Plato, these itinerant and
presumably often foreign men and women did not look too well, and there was
no comparison to the priest of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Plato is not alone in
this evaluation. Another Athenian, Demosthenes, made fun of the fact that the
mother of his main political opponent, Aeschines, earned a living as a private
initiator in the mysteries of Sabazios (an Anatolian form of Dionysos) and that
as a boy her son had assisted her and had performed all sorts of purification
rituals.19 One of the things such specialists would have sold in the course of
19 Demosthenes, Oration 18.259.

104 Graf
their initiations were the so-called “Orphic” gold tablets, hexametrical escha-
tological texts inscribed on thin gold foils that the initiates took with them into
their graves.20 They are attested from the late fifth century bce to the imperial
epoch and often come from wealthy graves, and thus they are evidence not
only of the long life of these ritual practices but also of the attraction these
specialists had for the upper middle class, who could afford a ritual that came
with a piece of gold foil. The mother of Aeschines conforms to this social
analysis. She belonged to a well-established and wealthy Athenian family,
and her brother Kleoboulos was a renowned seer with an impressive grave
inscription. Seers (μάντεις) are another group of itinerant specialists, often in
the service of army leaders. Thus, brother and sister can be described as reli-
gious entrepreneurs.21 In his turn, the deceased man in the Derveni grave was
a Macedonian noble buried with his weaponry. We have to assume that he not
only was initiated but also took a book with him into his grave. Presumably he
had received the book from his initiator, as others received gold foils. Plato’s
hostility might well be based not only on his moralistic attitude but also on the
more mundane fact that philosophers too were (sometimes itinerant) special-
ists looking out for clients.
The parallels with Hebrews are obvious. Like the writer of Hebrews, the
Derveni author interrupts an ongoing exposition with his authorial intrusion.
In both cases, this interruption serves as a signal that important and rather
underestimated insights are about to follow. Both propose allegorical explana-
tions of an authoritative text: the Derveni author of the theogony of Orpheus
that served as liturgical text in a mystery cult; the author of Hebrews of the Old
Testament story of Melchizedek as a prototype of Jesus. The emphasis the lat-
ter gives to his interpretation suggests that he might well be the first to propose
such an interpretation, and that it might be problematic and scandalously new
when compared with traditional Jewish readings of Melchizedek.
Both writers also write with a philosophical background. The Derveni author
knows the contemporary philosophy of Anaxagoras and his school; the author
of Hebrews alludes to a rather complex dialogue by Plato, the Theaetetus,
which has become a key text of the philosophy of his own time. They are thus
both acutely aware of contemporary philosophy.
20 See Fritz Graf and Sarah Iles Johnston, Ritual Texts for the Afterlife (London: Routledge,
2012).
21 On seers: Michael Flowers, The Seer in Ancient Greece (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 2009); on Kleoboulos’s grave inscription: SEG 33, no. 211.
Furthermore, they both take an ironic, even sarcastic, stance toward their
audience. The addressees of Hebrews are regressed to feebleness and child-
hood, if not babyhood; those of the Derveni author let themselves be fleeced
by a ritual specialist because they rashly assume that they know what all the
initiation with its rituals and its sacred texts signifies, and they therefore miss
the occasion to ask for enlightenment. This belittling serves to provoke the
audience to an additional intellectual (or ritual) effort.
And finally, in these written texts, both authors insist on oral instruction.
The addressees of Hebrews are “dull of hearing.” The Derveni author has some
understanding for the participants of public rituals’ inability to receive expla-
nations of what they hear during the ritual—one cannot expect the priest
to interrupt his ritual with spoken instructions as to the true meaning of the
ritual—but he has no understanding for the private clients’ failure to muster
the intellectual curiosity to ask their initiator for additional information.
Conclusions
The two sets of parallels that I perceive behind Heb 5:11 come together to sug-
gest an interesting and complex pedigree for the author of Hebrews. As an intel-
lectual, he constructs himself as a colleague of contemporaneous specialists
such as doctors or dream interpreters who competed with each other to offer
practical knowledge on seemingly difficult matters, and in a competition that
has a long history in ancient society. But the author of Hebrews is more than
an intellectual who offers his own allegorical interpretation of a traditional
text. His special craft is religion, and here he joins the Derveni author and his
mystery rites. We can press this comparison. The Derveni author, an initiator
whom the text earlier perhaps designated a μάγος, opening up the possibil-
ity that the Platonic combination of initiation and spells was more common
and more widespread than we might think, offered his services both as a ritual
specialist and as a philosophically trained expounder of the text used in his
rituals. This openness for contemporary philosophy gave him an edge over his
competitors. In a similar way, the author of Hebrews, philosophically trained
as his knowledge of the Theaetetus implies, offers moral and theological teach-
ing based on the allegorical explanation of authoritative texts, God’s oracular
utterances (τὰ λόγια τοῦ θεοῦ 5:12, with a technical term for revealed “oracles”
common in his time). But he is also interested in rituals, the cleansing rites and
imposition of hands (βαπτισμοί and χειρῶν ἐπιθέσεις, 6:2). Although he appears
to be more interested in the teaching about cleansing rites (βαπτισμῶν διδαχή)
106 Graf
than in the rites themselves, there is no reason to assume that he did not also
perform them. In this respect, his position is not very different from that of
Paul at Ephesus in Acts, whom the itinerant Jewish exorcists saw as a com-
petitor and whose book burning can be seen as an efficient move against these
competitors. Nor does it seem a coincidence that Paul in Second Corinthians
claims ecstatic experience, as did others among this somewhat shaggy group.
Undoubtedly, the Derveni text presupposed oral teachings during or imme-
diately after the ritual, delivered by the learned man who also officiated as an
initiator: he thus combined the role of an initiator with that of an expounder
of his own sacred text. The puzzle why the explanation of a ritual text used in
mystery rites was ever published as a book can be solved by the assumption
that such a text was handed out at some point during the ritual, not unlike
the gold tablets. It is harder to say whether Hebrews, too, was originally orally
performed, or at least conceived as an oral text. At its very end, the news of
Timothy and the greetings (Heb 13:18–25) exhibit clear signs of conventional
letter style. But the rest of the text shows no traces of such a style, and an epis-
tolary opening that would mirror the final greetings is absent. Scholars have
long argued that the ending must have been added later, to turn into a letter
what started as an exhortation or homily. But the self-description as “horta-
tory speech” (λόγος τῆς παρακλήσεως, 13:22) immediately precedes the charac-
terization as a letter (ἐπέστειλα); there is thus no need to force a distinction.22
Given rhetorical practice in the Roman Empire, it is somewhat futile to try
to figure out whether a text that bears the mark of oral delivery (such as an
exhortation) was performed orally. The many Christian sermons preserved
quite certainly were, as were also the philosophical dissertationes (διαλέξεις)
of the Platonizing philosopher Maximus of Tyre (second century ce), which,
according to a note in the manuscripts, were performed in Rome during their
author’s first stay there. Maximus would be another competing professional,
this time in the arena of moral philosophy, from which Hebrews is not totally
removed either.23 In this perspective, in which textuality and oral performance
coincide, the appeal to hospitality (φιλοξενία) in Heb 13:2 can still be under-
stood both as a general ethical maxim that echoes the preceding φιλαδελφία,
22 But see especially James Swetnam, “On the Literary Genre of the ‘Epistle’ to the Hebrews,”
Novum Testamentum 11 (1969): 261–69, where Swetnam characterizes Hebrews as a
“Jewish-Hellenistic” homily.
23 For Maximus of Tyre, see Dillon, Middle Platonists, 399–400, and Michel Trapp, Maximus
of Tyre: The Philosophical Orations (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997); for his stay in Rome,
Dissertat. 1, title; Suid. s.v.
or “brotherly love,” and, much more concretely, as an exhortation to accom-

modate itinerant teachers such as the author of Hebrews.24
A final caveat. The comparison of the author of Hebrews with the Derveni
author, an initiator in Bacchic mystery rites, is not intended to bring back the
old discussion about the origin of Christianity in pagan mystery rites; there is
no need to revive the ideas of the Religionsgeschichtliche Schule and the theo-
ries of scholars such as Alfred Loisy or Vittorio Macchioro who received a major
stimulus from the political debates in late-nineteenth century Europe. My sug-
gestion is that a Christian leader and thinker such as the author of Hebrews
or, for that matter, Paul is better understood against the backdrop of the tra-
dition of religious specialists and entrepreneurs who were active all over the
Mediterranean and whose existence can be traced to the Late Bronze and early
Iron Age eastern Mediterranean. The author’s specific teaching was not neces-
sarily influenced or conditioned by this role, but this role and its traditions
shaped the linguistic and rhetorical expression that the author’s teaching took.
Bibliography
Primary Sources
Artemidorus Daldiensis, Onirocritica. Edited by Roger A. Pack. Bibliotheca Teubneriana.
Leipzig: Teubner, 1963.
Demosthenes, Orationes. Edited by Samuel H. Butcher. Oxford Classical Texts. Oxford:
Clarendon, 1910.
The Derveni Papyrus. Edited by Kyriakos Tsantsanoglou, George M. Parássoglou, and
Theokritos Kouremenos. Studi e Testi per il Corpus dei Papiri Filosofici Greci e
Latini 13. Florence: Olschki, 2006.
Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica. Edited by Eduard Schwartz. Die griechischen christli-
chen Schriftsteller 9. Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1903–9.
Galen, De simplicium medicamentorum temperamentis ac facultatibus. Edited by Carl
Gottlieb Kühn. 20 vols. Leipzig: Cnobloch, 1821–33; repr. Paris: De Boccard, 2001.
24 Usually, the exhortation to φιλοξενία is read as a general moral maxim; see, for example,
Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (NTL; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John
Knox, 2006), 339, and David Allen, “Constructing ‘Janus-Faced’ Exhortations: The Use
of Old Testament Narratives in Heb 13,1–8,” Biblica 89 (2008): 404; but see also Victor P.
Furnish’s note in M. Jack Suggs, Katherine D. Sakenfeld, and James R. Mueller, eds., The
Oxford Study Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), 1532.
108 Graf
Maximus Tyrius, Dissertationes. Edited by Michael B. Trapp. Bibliotheca Teubneriana.

Stuttgart: Tuebner, 1994.
Pachomius, Le corpus athénien de saint Pachome. Edited by François Halkin. Cahiers
d’Orientalisme 2. Geneva: Cramer, 1982, 11–72, ch. 82.
Plato, Theaetetus. Edited by John Burnet. Oxford Classical Texts. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1909.
Posidonius, Die Fragmente. Edited by Willy Theiler. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1982.
Spicq, Ceslas. L’Épître aux Hébreux. Études bibliques. 2 vols. Paris: Gabalda, 1952–53.
Other Literature
Allen, David. “Constructing ‘Janus-Faced’ Exhortations: The Use of Old Testament
Narratives in Heb 13,1–8.” Biblica 89 (2008): 401–9.
Betegh, Gábor. The Derveni Papyrus: Cosmology, Theology, and Interpretation.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004.
Dillon, John. The Middle Platonists: 80 BC to AD 220. London: Duckworth, 1977.
Flowers, Michael. The Seer in Ancient Greece. Berkeley: University of California Press,
2009.
Graf, Fritz, and Sarah Iles Johnston. Ritual Texts for the Afterlife: The Bacchic Gold
Tablets. London: Routledge, 2012.
Harris-McCoy, Daniel E., ed. Artemidorus’ Oneirocritica: Text, Translation, and
Commentary. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.
Papadopoulou, Ioanna, and Leonard Muellner, eds. Poetry as Initiation: The Center for
Hellenic Studies Symposium on the Derveni Papyrus. Hellenic Studies Series 63.
Washington, D.C.: Center for Hellenic Studies, 2014.
Swetnam, James. “On the Literary Genre of the ‘Epistle’ to the Hebrews.” Novum
Testamentum 11 (1969): 261–69.
Trapp, Michel. Maximus of Tyre: The Philosophical Orations. Oxford: Clarendon, 1997.
Van Kooten, George H. Paul’s Anthropology in Context. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008.
Walde Christina. Antike Traumdeutung und moderne Traumforschung. Düsseldorf:
Artemis & Winkler, 2001.
Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian
Innovations in the Concept of Priesthood and
Their Reflections in the Treatise “To the Hebrews”*
Jörg Rüpke
Introduction
One of the most important developments of the history of religion in the

Roman imperial period was the substitution of sacrificial religious practices
with reading practices, as argued by Guy Stroumsa in his book on the end of
sacrifice.1 Christian cult, which like other rituals had seen miniaturization
and the replacement of sacrifice by the memory of sacrifice,2 could function
only through reference to sacrifice in texts. This is not to argue for any previ-
ous unseen sacrificial interpretation on such a basis, a claim rendered void
by the presence of sacrifice in the Bible. But many texts tell of more than just
the replacement or spiritualization of ritual with symbolic value or memory.
Crossing religious boundaries, which now appear to have been much more
porous than has been supposed, texts engaged with contemporary religious
practices, cross-fertilizing different traditions and thus producing surprising
innovations.
The tractate or sermon “to the Hebrews,” sent along with greetings by
“those from Italy” at the end of the first or beginning of the second century
ce, appears to have had Roman origins or at least to have originated within a
* An earlier version of this text appeared in Revue de l’histoire des religions 229 (2012): 5–30.
I am grateful to Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge for inviting me to contribute
to this intensive discussion. Neill McLynn and also Ian Henderson and Markus Vinzent,
co-fellows at the Max Weber Centre, University of Erfurt, have improved the text. I am
grateful to the German Science Foundation (DFG) for its support of my work on the material
within the context of the Kolleg-Forschergruppe “Religious individualization in historical
perspective” (FOR 1013). The re-publication is dedicated to the memory of Ellen Bradshaw
Aitken, Montreal.
1 Guy Stroumsa, La fin du sacrifice. Les mutations religieuses de l‘Antiquité tardive (Collection
Collège de France; Paris: Odile Jacob, 2005); see now also Daniel C. Ullucci, The Christian
Rejection of Animal Sacrifice (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).
2 Cf. Guy Stroumsa, Barbarian Philosophy: The Religious Revolution of Early Christianity (WUNT
112; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1999), 40–41.

110 Rüpke
network closely related to Rome.3 On the basis of that hypothesis, this chapter
argues for its innovation and engagement with contemporary religious prac-
tices across textual traditions. The dating implies an educated Jewish audi-
ence raised in the late Neronian or Flavian period and informed by Roman
culture as expressed in public buildings, images, and rituals. Without rejecting
its intertextual relationship to scripture,4 Hebrews is analyzed here in terms of
contemporary urban religion.
Sacrificial language (προσφέρειν δῶρα, “offer gifts”; θυσίαι, “sacrifices”) is very
important for the sermon, but in this chapter particular attention will be given
rather to priestly involvement in the transcendental sacrificial scenario. The
priestly role is compared to that of the pontifex maximus, a prominent position
often held by the Roman emperors, and to major public priesthoods toward
the end of the first century ce. This focus promises a deepened understanding
of the text’s cultural setting and of its audience’s interaction with the institu-
tional setting of Rome, of which any audience in the Roman Empire would
be institutionally and culturally part. Although its setting is not late antiquity,
Hebrews is one of the fundamental texts responsible for the shaping of late
classical Christianities. While acknowledging the history of the text’s recep-
tion, I regard the genesis of the text as very much part of the history of Roman
Judaism as well as part of the history of Roman Christianity.
Determining Contexts
Both New Testament scholars and classical scholars, like me, are struck by the
massive presence of sacerdotal semantics in the anonymous text called “To the
Hebrews,” in an account of the significance of Jesus that centers on the figure
of a heavenly high priest. The text’s sources for that figure are the pentateuchal
description of priestly service in Exodus and Numbers, focusing on atonement
rituals; Psalm 110 (109 LXX);5 perhaps barely traceable elements of Qumranic
3 See below. Craig R. Koester opts for a date between 60 ce and 90 ce, see Koester, Hebrews:
A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001), 50;
Harold W. Attridge for 60 ce to 100 ce, see Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to
the Hebrews. (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 9.
4 See below, and in particular Gabriella Gelardini, “Hebrews, an Ancient Synagogue Homily for
Tisha be-Av: Its Function, Its Basis, Its Theological Interpretation,” in Hebrews: Contemporary
Methods—New Insights (ed. Gabriella Gelardini; BINS 75; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 107–27.
5 See John M. Scholer, Proleptic Priests: Priesthood in the Epistle to the Hebrews (JSNTSup 49;
Sheffield: Academic Press, 1991), 83.
Starting Sacrifice In The Beyond 111
Melchizedek traditions;6 early Jesus-as-intercessor motives;7 and first-century

spiritualizations of priesthood and cult as witnessed by Philo.8 Using such
materials the unknown author of the text elaborates a fully fledged theory of
the elevated Crucified as high priest and son. When set against the traditions
used, this theory is, however, very evidently original. The intellectual and scrip-
tural connections noted here can therefore provide neither an explanation nor
even a motivation for the development of the concept of high priest and son
in Hebrews.
With only a few obvious clues about the setting to be found in the text,
hypotheses and interpretation move in a hermeneutic circle. Our placement
of the text influences our reconstruction of the possible associations made by
contemporary readers or, better, hearers. Given the lack of evidence in the text
itself, I have to proceed on hypotheses about location, timing, and audience.
The Domitianic era, extended to include the early Trajanic period, is an obvi-
ous, though hypothetical choice.9 The most reliable, yet still weak, evidence for
a terminus ante quem is the possible direct borrowing by 1 Clem. 36.2–6, prob-
ably dated between 90 and 120 ce.10 Some of my arguments, I stress, depend
on this dating. Rome and, more broadly, Italy are the most probable locations
among the few possibilities; in the final line the group sending the text is iden-
tified as “those from Italy” (Heb 13:24).11 My argument does not depend on this
choice of location, but it is helped very much by it.
6 Andrew Lincoln, Hebrews: A Guide (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 45; rather optimistic:
Eric F. Mason, “You Are a Priest Forever”: Second Temple Jewish Messianism and the Priestly
Christology of the Epistle to the Hebrews (STDJ 74; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 203.
7 William R. G. Loader, Sohn und Hohepriester: Eine traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung
zur Christologie des Hebräerbriefes (WMANT 53; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag,
1981), 100.
8 Sceptical: Koester, Hebrews, 59–60. Lincoln Douglas Hurst, stresses apart from the
Septuagint (in particular Psalm 8) and the Old Testament traditions of Acts 7, the Pauline
theology and contemporary Jewish apocalyptic (4 Ezra, 1 Enoch), but the priestly fig-
ure “remains a riddle”; see Hurst, The Epistle to the Hebrews: Its Background of Thought
(SNTSMS 65; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 133.
9 See Ellen Bradshaw Aitken, “Portraying the Temple in Stone and Text: The Arch of Titus
and the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights (ed.
Gabriella Gelardini; BINS 75; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 133–36, for an early Domitian date estab-
lished by supposing that “Hebrews” directly responded to the imagery of Titus as dis-
played in the Arch of Titus.
11 See also Attridge, Hebrews, 10, pointing to the reception by the Roman 1 Clemens.
112 Rüpke
Roman religion has not featured prominently in the work of New Testament
and patristic scholars. Following a proud nineteenth-century distinction hap-
pily elaborated by classical scholars in the twentieth century, analysis of the
New Testament since the time of the Religionsgeschichtliche Schule has been
restricted to what now slowly ceases to be called “oriental religions”12 and
Greek philosophy. The history-of-religion approach in recent commentaries
on Hebrews checks, for instance, for Hellenic or Hellenistic-Jewish thought
and for Gnostic influences or Qumran parallels, but stops there. Yet Rome was
the oppressing reality of the imperial Mediterranean, even if its impact was
mitigated by distance or language. In his helpful Anchor Bible commentary,
Craig Koester points several times to the “Greco-Roman” environment, but his
examples are only anachronistically Greek and blandly Roman by the end of
the first century CE.13 Given the possibility that the text of Hebrews derives
from Italy and has literary links with a writing from the city of Rome, we have
to pay as much attention to local Roman traditions as many scholars have paid
to Alexandrian or Jerusalem traditions. Here, I fully agree with approaches that
stress the importance of the Roman context, for example Titus’s triumph14 or
the religious role of the emperors, although my account will take its own track.
The Roman context and the dating have two corollaries—persecution and
the destruction of the temple. From a historical point of view, the evidence
of persecution of Christians under Domitian is weak.15 For Rome, Xiphilinos’s
excerpt of the third-century historian Cassius Dio16 points to religious argu-
ments that employed the concept of τὰ τῶν Ἰουδαίων ἔθη (“the customs of the
Jews”) for the persecution of members of the senatorial class and possibly
beyond. These circumstances relate to the very last year of Domitian’s reign.
Although I do not wish to enter into the discussion of John’s Revelation here,
12 See the contributions in Corinne Bonnet, Jörg Rüpke, and Paolo Scarpi, eds., Religions
orientales—culti misterici: Neue Perspektiven—nouvelle perspectives—prospettive nuovei
(Potsdamer altertumswissenschaftliche Beiträge 16; Stuttgart: Steiner, 2006); the contri-
butions in Mediterranea 1 (2008); Corinne Bonnet, and Jörg Rüpke, eds., Les religions ori-
entales dans les mondes grec et romain / Die orientalischen Religionen in der griechischen
und römischen Welt. (Trivium 4; Paris: Maison des sciences de l‘homme, 2009), http://
trivium.revues.org/.
14 For example, Aitken, “Portraying the Temple,” 142–48.
15 Joachim Molthagen, “Die Lage der Christen im römischen Reich nach dem 1. Petrusbrief:
Zum Problem einer domitianischen Verfolgung,” Historia 44 (1995): 422–58.
16 The sources for Dio’s negative account of Domitian are difficult to identify; see Christiana
Urner, “Kaiser Domitian im Urteil antiker literarischer Quellen und moderner Forschung”
(Diss., Universität Augsburg, 1993), 49–50.
we can note that its dating is itself subject to the problem of circularity.17 Even
if we admit a Domitianic dating, we have little more than some local conflicts
in Asia Minor. Despite the negative portrait of the emperor in senatorial and,
later, Christian historiography and by Pliny,18 the enthusiastic image conveyed
by the poets Martial (who, however, never had direct access to the emperor19)
and Statius was probably more representative of popular feeling. This state-
ment can stand even if the poets’ readers were among the ranks of the upper
class rather than members of the populace directly addressed by Domitian
through games and military spectacles.20
Vespasian and Titus’s destruction of the temple of Jerusalem is of larger
importance. The Romans’ ending of centralized Jewish sacrificial ritual and the
practical disappearance of the priesthood would have given cause for reflec-
tion on sacrifice. That reflection, a source of powerful symbols and a stimulus
for the imagination, would evidently have set the scene for engagement with
related developments in Roman religion. From Hellenistic times onward, a
Jewish audience would have been used to—and opposed to—emperor wor-
ship. The Flavian innovations and intensifications of such worship21 would
have been noticed, even if not welcomed in the manner reflected in Statius’s
poems.22 Yet the image of the emperor was shaped by many a role, of which
being god-like was just one. Patronage and also political, military, and cultural
roles were fundamental, seen through the lens of emperor worship. And so too
were religious and, in particular, sacerdotal roles.23
17 Cf. Ulrike Riemer, Das Tier auf dem Kaiserthron? Eine Untersuchung zur Offenbarung des
Johannes als historischer Quelle (Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 114; Stuttgart: Teubner,
1998), 7–11.
18 For the latter and his underrated reception, see Urner, “Kaiser Domitian,” 319.
19 Jens Leberl, Domitian und die Dichter: Poesie als Medium der Herrschaftsdarstellung
(Hypomnemata 154; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004), 343.
20 The latter is stressed by Leberl, Domitian, 344–45; Ruurd R. Nauta, Poetry for Patrons:
Literary Communication in the Age of Domitian (Mnemosyne Sup. 206; Leiden: Brill, 2002),
327–35, likewise underlines the fact that poetic honoring of the emperor need not imply
personal imperial patronage; Anthony J. Boyle speaks of the new theatricality of the
Flavian and, in particular, Domitianic periods, see Boyle “Introduction: Reading Flavian
Rome,” in Flavian Rome: Culture, Image, Text (ed. Anthony J. Boyle and J. W. Dominik;
Leiden: Brill, 2003), 41.
21 See Manfred Clauss, Kaiser und Gott: Herrscherkult im römischen Reich (Stuttgart: Teubner,
1999), 112–32.
22 For example, Franz Sauter, Der römische Kaiserkult bei Martial und Statius (Tübinger
Beiträge zur Altertumswissenschaft 21; Stuttgart: Kolhammer, 1934).
23 Richard Gordon, “The Veil of Power: Emperors, Sacrificers and Benefactors,” in Pagan
Priests: Religion and Power in the Ancient World (ed. Mary Beard and John North; London:
Duckworth, 1990), 201–31.
114 Rüpke
My reference to the image of Domitian has paved the way for my thesis.
In taking up traditions from the Tanakh, the author of Hebrews paints with
brilliant rhetoric the image of a heavenly Jesus—or more precisely “the Son
of God,” to translate the Greek formulation at the start of the central part of
the sermon (Ἰησοῦν τὸν υἱὸν τοῦ θεοῦ, 4:14)—as a priest who is in competition
with the supreme priest embodied by the earthly emperor—and, of course,
winning. The emperor cannot win the contest with transcendent sacrifice and
priestly honors.
My demonstration of this thesis follows three steps. First, we will see that
the priestly role of the second and third Flavian emperors was a threat to
the eagerness of the Jewish group following Jesus. Second, we will see how
Hebrews’ sacerdotology tackled this problem. And thirdly, I will explain a
number of corollaries of my thesis.
Changing Concepts of Priesthood
As was usual for princes and, indeed, for many nobles, Titus and Domitian
became members of public priesthoods at a comparatively young age. Titus
was co-opted into “all colleges” in 71 ce, implying membership of the pontiffs,
augurs, Quindecimviri sacris faciundis, who were responsible for the Sibylline
Books, and the Septemviri Epulones as a minimum.24 Perhaps at the same time
and certainly by the year 73 ce, Domitian had been co-opted into the same
colleges and to the Arval brethren.25 Membership required only an occasional
presence, and the formal dress was identical to the toga praetexta worn by
magistrates in office. The priestly role was therefore visible only for a few ritual
events.
From Augustus onwards, acclamation as emperor had brought an additional
honor, election to the office of pontifex maximus,26 the only one of the many
24 Jörg Rüpke, Fasti sacerdotum: A Prosopography of Pagan, Jewish, and Christian Religious
Officials in the City of Rome, 300 BC to AD 499. Biographies of Christian Officials by Anne
Glock (trans. David Richardson; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), no. 1017; CIL
6.31294 = ILS 258; 6.40453.
25 Rüpke, Fasti sacerdotum, A Prosopography, no. 1470; CIL 9.4955 = ILS 267 and CIL 3.12218;
NS 1899.64 attests membership among the XVviri already for 72 CE.
26 See Ruth Stepper, Augustus et sacerdos: Untersuchungen zum römischen Kaiser als Priester
(Potsdamer altertumswissenschaftliche Beiträge 9; Stuttgart: Steiner, 2003), 35–39,
45; Stepper, “Der Kaiser als Priester: Schwerpunkte und Reichweite seines oberpontifi-
kalen Handelns,” in Die Praxis der Herrscherverehrung in Rom und seinen Provinzen (ed.
Hubert Cancik and Konrad Hitzl; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 157–87; Françoise van
religious offices that became an element of the full imperial title. Formally,
this position was just the head of the large pontifical college,27 but the office
entailed certain prerogatives over other priests and was opened to plebeians
and made subject to a specific sort of popular election from the third century
Bce onwards.28 Caesar entered into this office four years before his first con-
sulship; Augustus did without it for the first quarter of a century of his reign.
Although the position would subsequently become a standard component of
the extended imperial nomenclature, it is extremely difficult to tie it to specific
actions (even the selection of Vestal virgins was given up by Augustus). Even
after the reinterpretation of the office by the emperor Julian in the 360s, the
religious policy of the emperors still had almost no direct connections with
the office of pontifex maximus, transliterated to Greek as ποντιφεξ μαξιμος, pon-
tiphex maximos, or translated as ἀρχιερεύς or ἀρχιερεὺς μέγιστος.29
We find exceptions, however, to this disconnect between the office of ponti-
fex maximus and the actions of emperors. Titus provides the first, as Suetonius
relates in his biography of the emperor, written by the 120s.30 Probably expe-
riencing bad press, on entering the supreme pontificate, likely a few months
after his accession to the throne, Titus declared that he would keep his hands
pure and promised that he would die himself rather than kill:
Having declared that he would accept the office of pontifex maximus for
the purpose of keeping his hands unstained (puras), he was true to his
promise; for after that he neither caused nor connived at the death of
any man, although he sometimes had no lack of reasons for taking ven-
geance; but he swore that he would rather be killed than kill. (Suetonius,
Tit. 9.1)
Although magistrates had to swear an oath on the laws (iusiurandum) within

five days of entering office, we have no evidence that elected priests had to
do likewise. The connection of priestly offices with ethics would not be
new to Roman culture. In his history of Rome, Livy relates that in 209 BCE
an unwilling noble, Gaius Valerius Flaccus, was forced into the office of
Haeperen, Le collège pontifical (3ème s. a. C.–4ème s. p. C.): contribution à l‘étude de la reli-

gion publique romaine (Brussels: Institut historique belge de Rome, 2002), 153–54.
27 van Haeperen, Le collège pontifical, 94–96.
28 Rüpke, Fasti sacerdotum: Die Mitglieder, 1623–24.
29 Rüpke, Fasti sacerdotum: A Prosopography, 57–66.
30 And after his release from imperial service: Andrik Abramenko, “Zeitkritik bei Sueton: Zur
Datierung der Vitae Caesarum,” Hermes 122 (1994): 80–94.
116 Rüpke
flamen fialis by the pontifex maximus and that Flaccus changed his way of life
as a consequence.31 Purus (“clean”) is used occasionally of the ritual purity of
instruments or animals,32 but rarely—and only in association with the Vestal
Virgins—as a priestly quality (purus . . . sacerdos, Ovid, Am. 3.8.23) in a meta-
phorical way. Vesta and the rites connected with her, and hence also her priest-
esses, the Vestal Virgins, deal with purgamina and hence the concept of purus
in Augustan times (Ovid, Fast. 4.731–734; 6.225–234). Given this background,
Titus’s initiative should be judged innovative and not simply in keeping with
his office.33
Domitian, who in 81 ce followed his brother into the position of pontifex
maximus, stressed the office similarly. As also for earlier emperors, Domitian’s
office was announced on coins34 and on many inscriptions. Evidence of a par-
ticular emphasis on the pontificate is provided by Suetonius’s detailed account
of Domitian’s multiple prosecutions of Vestal Virgins, a task intimately con-
nected with the office of pontifex maximus:35
He punished the cases of sexual misbehaviour of the Vestal virgins, which

had been neglected by his father and brother, in different and severe
ways, first by capital punishment, later in the old manner [of burying
alive]. (Suetonius, Dom. 8.3–4; corroborated by Dio 67.3.3 f.)
The first instance likely came early in his reign, around 83 ce; the second prob-
ably around 89 CE.36 His actions had echoes even beyond historiography; a
reference to his personal role in the investigation as an explorator might be
found in Statius’s Silvae.37
31 Livy 27.8.4–10; Valerius Maximus 6.9.3; Rüpke, Fasti sacerdotum: A Prosopography,
no. 3393.
32 Sextus Pompeius Festus, De verborum significatione cum Pauli epitome emendata et anno-
tata (ed. Karl Otfried Müller; Leipzig: Weidman, 1839), p. 248; Varro, Rust. 2.1.20; Pliny, Nat.
8.206.
33 Thus Stepper, Augustus et sacerdos, 147.
34 Harold Mattingly, Coins of the Roman Empire in the British Museum (3 vols.; London:
Trustees of the British Museum, 1965–), 2:300–307, nos. 7a–42, and Harold Mattingly
et al., eds., The Roman Imperial Coinage (9 vols.; London; Spink, 1923–81), 2:155–56,
Domitian 11–23.
35 Stressed by Stepper, Augustus et sacerdos, 148–53.
36 As argued by Stéphane Gsell, see Brian W. Jones, The Emperor Domitian (London:
Routledge, 1992), 218.
37 Alex Hardie, Statius and the Silvae: Poets, Patrons and Epideixis in the Graeco-Roman World
(Liverpool: Cairns, 1983), 203 n. 68; Jones, Domitian, 101, on Statius, Silv. 1.1.36.
Another incidence that can readily be tied to the office of the supreme
pontiff concerned dealings with a member of the flamen dialis, the pontifical
college. Witness is borne by the contemporary Roman Questions of Plutarch:
Why did the priest of Jupiter ( flamen dialis) resign his office if his wife
died, as Ateius has recorded? . . . Or is it because the wife assists her hus-
band in the rites, so that many of them cannot be performed without the
wife’s presence, and for a man who has lost his wife to marry again imme-
diately is neither possible perhaps nor otherwise seemly? Wherefore it
was formerly illegal for the flamen to divorce his wife; and it is still, as it
seems, illegal, but in my day Domitian once permitted it on petition. The
priests were present at that ceremony of divorce and performed many
horrible, strange, and gloomy rites. (Quaest. rom. 50)
Further evidence, previously overlooked, is provided by the inscription on an

altar dedicated to Volcanus.38 The lex of the altar presents itself as the reinvigo-
ration of an annual vote instituted at the time of the Neronian fire at Rome.
The wording of the inscription clearly differentiates between the emperor
Domitian, who dedicated the altar, the annually changing official who has to
perform the rite, and the pontifex maximus Domitian, who constituted the
sacral regulation:
[Translation avoiding repetitions:] The space within this border defined

by markers and enclosed by a spiked railing and the altar below is dedi-
cated by Domitian on account of a vow, which has been neglected for a
long time and has not been fulfilled, on account of the fire, when Rome
burnt for nine days in Neronian times. It has been dedicated under the
obligation that within these boundaries nobody is allowed to erect a
building, to remain for trade, to plant a tree or sow anything else, and that
the praetor who has been allotted this region (or any other magistrate)
knows that he has to perform a successful offering on the Volcanalia on
the 23rd of August every year with a red calf and a boar after the prayers
inscribed below . . . ? . . . what Imperator Caesar Domitianus Augustus
Germanicus, the Pontifex maximus, has regulated. . . .39
38 Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (Berlin: Reimer, 1893–) 6,826 = 6,30837a–c = Hermann
Dessau, Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae (Berlin: Weidmann, 1892–1916; repr. Chicago: Ares,
1979) 4914.
39 Haec area intra hanc / definitionem cipporum / clausa veribus et ara quae / est inferius
dedicata est ab / ex voto suscepto / quod diu erat neglectum nec / redditum incendiorum /
118 Rüpke
Other activities that cannot be related directly to the office of pontifex

maximus40 do attest, however, to a degree of religious activity that had been
unknown to emperors since Augustus. Suetonius mentions the founding of a
new priestly college related to the cult of Minerva (Suetonius, Dom. 4.4)41 and
a new dress for the sodales Flaviales and the flamen dialis.42 The founding of
the new Capitolian agon is dated to 86 ce, and in 88 ce. Domitian had secu-
lar games organized, again using coins to broadcast his religious activities; the
series with ritual details is truly exceptional.43
In addition to newly founded games or temples44—Domitian is to be cred-
ited with the rebuilding of the Capitol, the erection of the so-called Forum
Transitorium, and the completion of the domus aurea and the Flavian amphi-
theatre (the Colosseum)45—the visibility of religious offices must also be seen
as characteristic of Domitian’s reign and the time immediately preceding.46
Not only did Domitian survive the civil war of 69 ce in the guise of an Isiac
arcendorum causa / quando urbs per novem dies / arsit Neronianis temporibus / hac lege
dedicata est ne cui / liceat intra hos terminos / aedificium exstruere manere / negotiari arbo-
rem ponere / aliudve quid serere / et ut praetor cui haec regio / sorti obvenerit litaturum se
sciat / aliusve quis magistratus / Volcanalibus X K(alendas) Septembres / omnibus annis
vitulo robio / et verre // Haec area . . . omnibus annis vitulo robeo / et verre ⟨ f ⟩ac(tis) prec-
ationibus / infra script⟨is⟩ aedi[—] K(alendas) Sept(embres) / ianist[—] / [—] dari [—]
quaes[—] / quod imp(erator) Caesar Domitianus / Aug(ustus) Germanicus pont(ifex)
max(imus) / constituit Q[—] / fieri // ex voto suscepto / quod diu erat neglectum . . .
Volcanalibus X K(alendas) Septembres / omnibus annis vitulo robio / et verre.
40 Cf. Stepper, Augustus et sacerdos, 154–55, who makes further suggestions.
41 For Minerva see Jean-Louis Girard, “Domitien et Minerve: une prédilection impériale,” in
Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt 2.17.1 (ed. Wolfgang Haase; Berlin: de Gruyter,
1981), 233–45.
42 Ibid.
43 Mattingly, Coins, vol. 2, nos. 419–438; rightly stressed by Harry O. Maier (oral
communication).
44 Suetonius, Dom. 5, see Jones, Domitian, 102–6, for details and further evidence.
45 See David Fredrick, “Architecture and Surveillance in Flavian Rome,” in Flavian Rome:
Culture, Image, Text (ed. Anthony J. Boyle and J. W. Dominik; Leiden: Brill: 2003), 205–9,
on the characteristics of Domitian‘s architecture. Emmanuelle Rosso discusses the con-
sequences of this strategy to create a specifically Flavian Rome in the provinces, see
Rosso, “La diffusion de l‘idéologie flavienne dans les provinces occidentales de l‘Empire:
le décor sculpté des monuments publics,” in La transmission de l‘idéologie impériale
dans l‘Occident romain (ed. M. Navarro Caballero and J.-M. Roddaz; Ausonius Études 13;
Bordeaux: Ausonius, 2006), 247–71.
46 I am grateful to the late Ellen Bradshaw Aitken for pointing this out to me.
priest (Suetonius, Dom. 1.2),47 but he also published an edict prohibiting the
sacrifice of cattle during Vespasian’s absence (9.1). Suetonius’s anecdote points
to a very particular public image of Domitian that gave him a specific religious
aura not only as a recipient of the ruler cult but also as a religious actor.
In analyzing the religion of the Flavian period, historical research has
stressed not the emperor’s priestly offices but the veneration of the emperor in
the imperial cult. The work of Duncan Fishwick has given clear chronological
shape to the development of this type of cult during the Empire, and draws
on literary as well as archaeological and, in particular, inscriptional evidence.
Fishwick writes that for the ruler cult “the Flavian era is . . . the most signifi-
cant period since its origins under Augustus”; the emperor was now even wor-
shiped as a god during his lifetime.48 Lacking a noble and urban background,
the new dynasty stressed the ruler cult as a vehicle for legitimacy and authority
(Suetonius, Dom.49), a practice that embraced Titus’s new sodales Flaviales and
temple of divus Vespasianus, as well as Titus’s own divinization post mortem.50
A few motives of the Flavian ruler cult may be relevant for our understand-
ing of Hebrews. Stress is laid on presence. The divine emperor is closer than
other gods: Statius writes, “he who is nearer than Jove directs the doings of
mankind” (Silv. 5.1.38) and genium domini praesentis (“the genius of the pres-
ent lord” verse 74). The dominus et deus (“lord and god,” Suetonius, Dom. 13.2) is
a deus prasens (“present god,” see Statius, Silv. 1.1.62: forma dei praesens, “pres-
ent form of god”). His throne of gold and ivory is put up among the gods (Pliny,
Pan. 52.1), that is, his gold statue is set up in the temple (Statius, Silv. 5.1.189–191).
A radiant crown (Pliny, Pan. 52.1) is included. Statius also announces, “Hail, off-
spring and sire of mighty deities” (Silv. 1.1.74), for Domitian is “son and father of
the gods” (magnorum proles genitorque deorum).
47 See Francesco Paolo Arata, “Un ‘sacellum’ d’età imperiale all’interno del Museo Capitolino,”
BCAR 98 (1997): 129–62, for the location.
48 Duncan Fishwick, The Imperial Cult in the Latin West: Studies in the Ruler Cult of the
Western Provinces of the Roman Empire. Vol. 3: Provincial Cult, part 1: Institution and
Evolution (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 145; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 95; Kenneth
Scott, The Imperial Cult under the Flavians (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1936), is still a mine
of detail; for a new routine of dedications in Greece, see Maria Kantiréa, Les dieux et les
dieux Augustes: Le culte impérial en Grèce sous les Julio-claudiens et les Flaviens. Etudes
épigraphiques et archéologiques (Meletemata 50; Athens: de Boccard, 2007), 84.
49 Fishwick, Imperial Cult, 96.
50 See Manfred Clauss, Kaiser und Gott: Herrscherkult im römischen Reich (Stuttgart:
Teubner, 1999), 120–21; for the location see the suggestion of Daniela Candilio in Candilio,
“Indagini archeologiche nell’aula ottagona delle Terme di Diocleziano,” Notizie degli Scavi
1/2 (1990/91): 165–83.
120 Rüpke
In the context of imperial Judeo-Christian history, the term “ruler cult”

tends to be associated with undue veneration by sacrifice. This perspective is
highly provincial, with the presence of the emperor reduced to his form in a
statue. While statues also played an important role at Rome, there they served
to reinforce both to the few and to the populace more broadly the presence
of an emperor who on many occasions was visible in person. In their poems,
Domitian’s contemporaries Statius and Martial,51 flatterers but also highly val-
ued poets, painted the image of a popular emperor—his charisma a product
more of his office than of his personality—who also constructed his imperial
authority by means of religious media. Religious language and devotion were
genuine means of acknowledging that authority, as the height of rhetorical
flattery and genuine admiration, both grateful and awestruck. To honor some-
body more than was usual meant accessing the inventory of honors for the
gods, with bronze statues replaced by their like in gold, with the statues moved
inside the temples, with the individual’s actions compared not with the actions
of other humans but with the actions of the gods. Glamour and eccentricity,
visibility and arrogance appear to have put off members of the old elites and
some intellectuals—we know of criticism and executions, and of the engaging
narratives and insinuations of elite historiographers such as Tacitus—but we
have no reason to doubt the appeal of such phenomena to many other mem-
bers of their contemporary audience.
The imperial cult should not be seen in isolation. For the emperors, receiv-
ing cult and performing cult were necessary complements. Piety and religious
activities were indicative of the importance of religion and invited its treat-
ment by others. Even before the imperial age, religious roles were part of the
stock of public political roles. Competition with predecessors and contem-
poraries led to modification, intensification, and innovation. Augustus per-
formed and emphasized a wide range of religious roles, not all of which were
tied to priestly functions. The emperor’s performance of sacrifice was not usu-
ally related to a sacerdotal office. Titus’s and Domitian’s stress on the supreme
pontificate must be seen as a novelty.
51 See K. Coleman, “The Emperor Domitian and Literature,” in ANRW 2.32.5, pp. 3087–3115;
Hubert Cancik, “Größe und Kolossalität als religiöse und ästhetische Kategorien: Versuch
einer Begriffsbestimmung am Beispiel von Statius, Silve I 1: Ecus maximus Domitiani
imperatoris,” in Verse und Sachen: Kulturwissenschaftliche Interpretationen römischer
Dichtung (ed. Richard Faber and Barabara von Reibnitz; Würzburg: Königshausen &
Neumann, 2003; rept. of Visible Religion 7 [1990]: 51–68), 224–48, esp. 232–36.
Whereas the other priestly colleges stressed equality—the emperor was

forced to communicate by letter and his presence was limited to rare occasions
such as secular games (as was the case for the Quindecimviri sacris faciundis)—
the pontifex maximus acted on his own on many occasions. The potential of
the office of pontifex maximus—unrivaled, unlike the offices of augur, pontiff,
vir epulonum, fetial, or sodalis—is demonstrated in a text by Pliny, a contem-
porary, in his panegyric on Domitian’s close successor Trajan (98–117 ce), a
speech held on 1 September 100 ce and published, probably the next year, in
considerably enlarged form. Although very few passages specify the pontifi-
cate of the emperor (to whom gratitude is expressed for the transfer of the con-
sulate), all three such instances are highly significant.52 Stressing the modesty
of the emperor,53 Pliny employs the titulature to contrast the sitting consul
with the emperor standing before him:
I am surprised, senators, and neither believe my eyes or ears, and again

and again ask myself, whether I see or hear: For the Imperator and Caesar
and the august supreme pontiff (Imperator ergo et Caesar et augustus
Pontifex Maximus) stand before the lap of the consul, and the consul sat
while the princeps was standing before him and he sat untroubled and
without fear and as if that was usual. (Pan. 64.2)
Many modern editions introduce a further “and” (et) between Augustus and
pontifex maximus, but the addition would spoil the triple expression (as also
employed in 88.7 and 88.10). In other passages Pliny uses the adjectival force
of augustus and plays with the comparative augustior (Pan. 8.3; 52.1; 60.2; 71.4);
an adjectival use therefore should not be excluded here. The conjunction
expresses the climactic structure, giving the highest possible qualification of
the princeps, “the first man,” a religious ring, implicated as much in augustus as
in pontifex. More than anything else, the priestly office removes the emperor
from the world of ordinary men.
The reflection about the fittingness of Trajan’s wife is conceptualized with
reference to this priesthood:
52 For references to Trajan’s divine status see D. S. Levene, “God and Man in the Classical
Latin Panegyric,” Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society 43 (1997): 66–103, esp.
78–82.
53 An important strategy in this as in earlier panegyrics; see Levene, “God and Man,” 78.
122 Rüpke
Your wife brings you decorum and fame. What could be more blameless
than her, what more having the virtues of old? If the supreme pontiff had
to choose a wife, he would have elected her or a similar. (Pan. 83.5)
The religious understanding of the context is evident in the terms sanctius

and even antiquius. Pliny implies that among all offices held by Trajan that of
supreme pontificate involves the highest standards and hence can be employed
in judging whether the emperor’s wife matches the qualities of the emperor.
These observations are confirmed in the final prayer to Jupiter. Referring to
the adoption by Nerva (96–98 ce), Pliny formulates:
You have spoken with the voice of Nerva what you thought; you have
made his son a father for us and a supreme pontiff for yourself. (Pan. 94.4)
In the role of the supreme pontiff, Trajan enjoyed direct contact with the pol-
ity’s highest god. As Pliny is avoiding functional political terms, the concept
of being a son describes the most intimate relationship to a predecessor; the
concept of fatherhood—a reference to the official title of pater patriae—
describes the most intimate relationship with the people; and the concept of
the supreme pontiff describes the most intimate relationship with the gods for
someone who already equals the gods in his ability to answer prayers.54 With
our knowledge of the Flavian period and of strategies of legitimacy as sketched
above, we can recognize that Pliny, writing at the very beginning of a new reign,
must have based his speech, with modifications, on established patterns.55
Sacerdotology in Hebrews
My reading of Hebrews as a reaction to developments of the Flavian period—

as we are used to reading Pliny—takes its justification not only from the
originality of the canonical sermon’s priestly images, but also from a curious
observation. The development of the high priest theologumenon in Hebrews
starts with an expression that is quite unusual: “Since, then, we have a great
high priest (ἀρχιερεὺς μέγας) who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the
Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession” (4:14). Archiereus megas is not
the title for the high priest found in the Septuagint, the Greek version used
54 Levene, “God and Man,” 81.

55 Cf. Nauta, Poetry, 412–4, for topoi dealing with honorific speeches and poetry.
elsewhere in Hebrews,56 which normally uses ἱερεὺς μέγας. The only other bib-
lical use is in 1 Macc 13:42. The phrase must therefore be judged exceptional.57
But ἀρχιερεὺς μέγιστος was the equivalent of pontifex maximus—with ἀρχιερεύς
used for local or provincial chief priests. It functions in Hebrews as a semantic
signal inviting reflection on one of the most widely known offices of the time.
That function was not unique in Hebrews. Although Koester does not lay
special emphasis on them, he points to a number of passages that imply dif-
ference from contemporary Roman practice or claim a comparable status
for Jesus. The sermon starts with titulature, with reference to Christ’s “name”
(ὄνομα, 1:4).58 It stresses the divine transferal of the office,59 rather than its
self-arrogation:60
And one does not presume to take this honor, but takes it only when
called by God, just as Aaron was. So also Christ did not glorify himself in
becoming a high priest, but was appointed by the one who said to him,
“You are my Son,  today I have begotten you.” (5:4–5)
The uniqueness of the priestly office (7:11–19) could be contrasted with the plu-
rality of Roman priesthoods,61 more than one of which might even be held by a
single emperor. Jesus makes new ways metaphorically, just as Domitian did lit-
erally, especially in his last years (Heb 10:20; 448). The heavenly sanctuary (“the
true tent,” 8:2) is not manmade, unlike the many urban temples.62 Perhaps
even the “guarantee of the covenant” (7:22), testamenti sponsor, quoting from
the Vulgate, had a contemporary reference, as Suetonius told of Domitian’s
excessive demands for inheritances in the context of his dealing with the Jews

57 For example, Philip Edgcumbe Hughes, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977), 169; Erich Gräßer, An die Hebräer 1–6 (EKKNT 17.1; Zurich:
Benziger, 1990), 245. In the most recent commentaries, Peter Thomas O’Brien neverthe-
less only explores Old Testament parallels, see O’Brien, The Letter to the Hebrews (PNTC;
Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; Nottingham: Apollos, 2010), 180–93; Knut Backhaus points to
Domitian’s priesthood only in passing, see Backhaus, Der Hebräerbrief: Übersetzt und erk-
lärt (RNT; Regensburg: Pustet, 2009), 181.
58 Koester, Hebrews, 187; for Domitian’s title see Alain Martin, La titulature épigraphique de
Domitien (Beiträge zur klassischen Philologie 181; Frankfurt am Main: Athenäum, 1987).
59 Mathias Rissi, Die Theologie des Hebräerbriefs: Ihre Verankerung in der Situation des
Verfassers und seiner Leser (WUNT 41; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1987), 52.
61 See Koester, Hebrews, 359.
124 Rüpke
(Dom. 12.2). In the posthumous panegyric on Domitian’s successor Trajan,

Pliny refers to Domitian’s avaricious and illegal dealings with the testaments
of others, providing a contrast with the new Trajanic practice of respecting
testaments (Pan. 39–40). There is no Tanakh parallel for the reference to a
guarantee of a testament, with no oath taking by the high priest in Exod 28.63
The image of Jesus’s priesthood is informed by contemporary institutions even
more than by Scripture.
The interpretation of Jesus in terms of a heavenly priestly office is a reac-
tion to recent political developments, but by concentrating on one aspect,
the author is able to frame the derogative comparison with the emperor—
potentially a capital crime—in strictly religious language. The focus on the
supreme pontificate of the emperor (which had recently been emphasized by
Vespasian’s sons) made possible a reinterpretation of the Flavian destruction
of the Jerusalem temple, which was perhaps commemorated on the occasion
of the homily (see below), and also enabled the author of Hebrews to counter
the appeal of the towering figure of the emperor on like terms. Priestly offices
are compared. Given the complex composition of Domitian’s (like other
emperors’) earthly and divine status, the argument is complex and leads to
inconsistencies. The shifting between the earthly high priest and the heavenly
high priest was necessary to locate the discussion within the Jewish tradition
and to establish the high priest of the Pentateuch as the competing office. The
already faded tradition of Melchizedek combined a priestly office with king-
ship, which may have invited its selection. At the same time the office of the
Jewish high priest, temporarily obliterated by Titus, had to be reinterpreted in
terms of an incomparable heavenly office held by the son of god, Iesus dei filius.
“Son of god” was a designation valid for Domitian, too, and thus the author of
the sermon specified, “And again, when he brings the firstborn into the world,
he says, ‘Let all God’s angels worship him’ ” (Heb 1:6). The term προτότοκον
(“firstborn”) followed by εἰς τὴν οἰκουμένην (“into the world”) not only takes up
a known Christological title as used in Col 1:18 and Rom 8:2964 but also has
political implications. Domitian was born in second place only.
The juxtaposition of Jesus and the living emperor—for legal reasons the
reference is never explicit or by name—needed not, and could not, suggest
a common form of megalomania. Rhetorically, the outcome was just the
63 F. F. Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews (rev. ed.; NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990), 170.
64 Note the hesitation of August Strobel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (4th ed.; Das Neue
Testament Deutsch 9.2; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991), 23.
opposite of tyranny.65 Hebrews stresses the humanity and compassion of the

son (e.g., 2:11–18), even in relationship to his office: “For we do not have a high
priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who
in every respect has been tested[a] as we are, yet without sin” (4:15). The com-
parisons with Pliny’s strategy early in his speech are striking, for Pliny writes,
“Never shall we flatter him as a god, never as a divinity. We do not speak of a
tyrant, but of a citizen, not of a lord, but of a father. ‘I am one of you’ (did he
say) . . .” (Pan. 2.3–4).
Resonances can be found with Domitian’s having himself addressed as domi-
nus et deus (see above), but additionally, this passage suggests audience expec-
tations that might have been shared by the addressees of Hebrews. Legitimacy
by sonship is important, but a follower of Jesus would not have hoped to have
the Crucified merely as the emperor’s equal in divinity. Compassion and close-
ness were also part of the argument.66 The role of the highest priest involved
standards set by Domitian, standards that he himself failed to keep, at least in
the judgment of the upper class, for otherwise Pliny would not have dwelled
on the issue in crucial passages in his speech on the successor. Hebrews
followed the same route by opening the eyes of the audience to the standing of
their own idol. Quoting and recontexualizing Koester, I note that “rather than
rejecting the importance of a high priest, Hebrews declares that in Christ we
have a great priest (10:21), thereby giving the Christian community a distinctive
focus for its identity,”67 distinctive also since it is competitive.
First Clement, the earliest probable testimony to Hebrews, uses the high
priest title of Jesus Christ in the phrase ἀρχιερεὺς καὶ προστάτης, which in Latin
reads Pontifex et patronus (36.1; 61.3), and associates that title with military
structures in another chapter (37). In using the title of high priest, Clement of
Roman evidently made an association with the contemporary roles realized by
the emperor.
65 For the rhetorical qualities of Hebrews, see Hermut Löhr, “Reflections of Rhetorical
Terminology in Hebrews,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights (ed.
Gabriella Gelardini; BINS 75; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 201, 209–10.
66 Note the list of qualities collected by Donald A. Hagner, Encountering the Book of Hebrews:
An Exposition (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2002), 104, and Patrick Gray, “Brotherly Love and the
High Priest Christology of Hebrews,” JBL 122 (2003): 335–51.
126 Rüpke
Conclusion
My reasoning throughout this discussion has had to remain hypothetical, and

this final section can give not a result but rather an elaborated version of my
thesis. If Gabriella Gelardini is right in assuming a Tisha be-Av dating for the
homily of Hebrews,68 the commemoration of the destruction of the Second
Temple would have made evident differences between the group addressed
and its Roman environment—Roman in a political sense, but perhaps also
geographically. If Paul Ellingworth’s observation that Hebrews addresses
“a certain weariness in pursuing the Christian goal” is correct,69 the original
target audience seems to have been in danger of losing its zeal, becoming fear-
ful under the impact of persecution. The author considered even apostasy—or
less dramatically, a total neglect of obligations—a real possibility.70 His rhe-
torical strategy aimed not at radical dichotomy and incompatibility, but at a
comparison that took seriously the religious dimensions of the non-Jewish
environment.71 The author’s message is: we have a sort of pontifex maximus
too (ἔχομεν ἀρχιερέα, 8:1), but ours is a better one,72 for he is confirmed by a
divine oath and is eternal and present73—the son remains the son and will not
be replaced by his brother. Given our knowledge of the slow development of
an understanding of the figure and name of Christ, I propose we place greater
emphasis on the contemporary reference discussed above, rather than draw
on an early theologumenon of the son.74 Sacrificial cult monopolized in heaven
68 Gelardini, “Hebrews,” 123.

69 Paul Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Greek Text (NIGTC;
Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 78; note David A. deSilva, Perseverance in Gratitude: A
Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on the Epistle “to the Hebrews” (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2000), 58–59.
70 Ellingworth, Epistle to the Hebrews, 79; see also David A. deSilva, “Exchanging Favor for
Wrath: Apostasy in Hebrews and Patron-Client Relationships,” JBL 115 (1996): 91–116.
71 I thus do not agree with deSilva’s stress on shame: David A. deSilva, “Despising Shame:
A Cultural-Anthropological Investigation of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” JBL 113 (1994):
439–61; deSilva, Perseverance.
72 Cf. Erich Gräßer, An die Hebräer 7.1–10.18 (EKKNT 17.2. Zurich: Benziger, 1993), 79.
73 See Ernst Käsemann, Das wandernde Gottesvolk: Eine Untersuchung zum Hebräerbrief
(FRLANT 55, N.F. 37; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck, 1957), 72.
74 Cf. John Dunnill, Covenant and Sacrifice in the Letter to the Hebrews (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1992), 188–226. To the contrary, Jon M. Isaak questions the possibility of
an argument from a context reconstructed out of the text, see Isaak, Situating the Letter
to the Hebrews in Early Christian History (Studies in the Bible and Early Christianity 53;
Lewiston: Mellen, 2002), 55–61.
renders earthly sacrifice superfluous. This is cult criticism in a spiritualizing

cultic language.75
For Roman historians my reading of Hebrews should give welcome access
to later non-senatorial views of Domitian’s reign and its lasting consequences.
For classical philologists my reading provides an interesting parallel to Pliny’s
rhetorical strategy in his panegyric on Trajan. For a historian of religion my
reading demonstrates an instance of intensive interaction and makes apparent
the open boundaries in the complex religious ecology of the Roman Empire.76
After all, even sacrifice in the beyond is a kind of sacrifice.
Bibliography
Attridge, Harold W. Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. Hermeneia;
Backhaus, Knut. Der Hebräerbrief: Übersetzt und erklärt. Regensburger Neues
Testament. Regensburg: Pustet, 2009.
Bruce, F. F. The Epistle to the Hebrews. Revised edition. New International Commentary
on the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990.
deSilva, David A. Perseverance in Gratitude: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on the
Epistle “to the Hebrews.” Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000.
Gräßer, Erich. An die Hebräer 1–6. Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen
Testament 17.1. Zurich: Benziger, 1990.
———. An die Hebräer 7.1–10.18. Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen
Testament 17.2. Zurich: Benziger, 1993.
75 Patrick Gray, The Epistle to the Hebrews and Greco-Roman Critiques of Superstition (Leiden:
Brill, 2004), 221; for a similar reading see Albert Vanhoye, Structure and Message of the
Epistle to the Hebrews (Studia biblica 12; Rome: Editrice Pontificio Instituto Biblico, 1989),
16; Marie E. Isaacs, “Priesthood and the Epistle to the Hebrews,” Heythrop Journal 38
(1997): 51–62, esp. 56.
76 See Jörg Rüpke, “Early Christianity in, and out of, Context,” JRS 99 (2009): 191–92, and
Rüpke, “Religiöser Pluralismus und das römische Reich,” in Die Religion des Imperium
Romanum: Koine und Konfrontationen (ed. Hubert Cancik and Jörg Rüpke; Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 350–51; for the problematic notion of “cult,” see Michel Malaise,
Pour une terminologie et une analyse des cultes isiaques (Mémoire de la Classe des Lettres
3.35; Brussels: Académie royale de Belgique, 2005), 201–20.
128 Rüpke
Hughes, Philip Edgcumbe. A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1977.
Hurst, L. D. The Epistle to the Hebrews: Its Background of Thought. Society for New
Testament Studies Monograph Series 65. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1990.
Lincoln, Andrew. Hebrews: A Guide. London: T&T Clark, 2006.
Rapids: Eerdmans; Nottingham: Apollos, 2010.
Other Literature
Abramenko, Andrik. “Zeitkritik bei Sueton: Zur Datierung der Vitae Caesarum.” Hermes
122 (1994): 80–94.
Aitken, Ellen Bradshaw. “Portraying the Temple in Stone and Text: The Arch of Titus
and the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages 131–48 in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—
New Insights. Edited by Gabriella Gelardini. Biblical Interpretation Series 75. Leiden:
Brill, 2005.
Arata, Francesco Paolo. “Un ‘sacellum’ d’età imperiale all’interno del Museo Capitolino.”
Bulletino Communale della Commissione Archeologica Comunale di Roma 98 (1997):
129–62.
Bonnet, Corinne, and Jörg Rüpke, eds. Les religions orientales dans les mondes grec et
romain / Die orientalischen Religionen in der griechischen und römischen Welt.
Trivium 4. Paris: Maison des sciences de l’homme. 2009. http://trivium.revues.org/.
Bonnet, Corinne, Jörg Rüpke, and Paolo Scarpi, eds. Religions orientales—culti mis-
terici: Neue Perspektiven—nouvelle perspectives—prospettive nuove. Potsdamer
altertumswissenschaftliche Beiträge 16. Stuttgart: Steiner, 2006.
Boyle, A. J. “Introduction: Reading Flavian Rome.” Pages 1–68 in Flavian Rome: Culture,
Image, Text. Edited by Anthony J. Boyle and J. W. Dominik. Leiden: Brill, 2003.
Cancik, Hubert. “Größe und Kolossalität als religiöse und ästhetische Kategorien:
Versuch einer Begriffsbestimmung am Beispiel von Statius, Silve I 1: Ecus maximus
Domitiani imperatoris.” Visible Religion 7 (1990): 51–68. Repr. as pages 224–48 in
Verse und Sachen: Kulturwissenschaftliche Interpretationen römischer Dichtung.
Edited by Richard Faber and Barabara von Reibnitz. Würzburg: Königshausen &
Neumann, 2003.
Candilio, Daniela. “Indagini archeologiche nell’aula ottagona delle Terme di
Diocleziano.” Notizie degli Scavi 1/2 (1990/91): 165–83.
Clauss, Manfred. Kaiser und Gott: Herrscherkult im römischen Reich. Stuttgart: Teubner,
1999.
Coleman, K. “The Emperor Domitian and Literature.” Pages 3087–15 in Aufstieg und
Niedergang der römischen Welt 2.32.5. Edited by Wolfgang Haase. Berlin: de Gruyter,
1987.
deSilva, David A. “Despising Shame: A Cultural-Anthropological Investigation of the
Epistle to the Hebrews.” Journal of Biblical Literature 113 (1994): 439–61.
———. “Exchanging Favor for Wrath: Apostasy in Hebrews and Patron-Client
Relationships.” Journal of Biblical Literature 115 (1996): 91–116.
Dunnill, John. Covenant and Sacrifice in the Letter to the Hebrews. Cambridge:
Fishwick, Duncan. The Imperial Cult in the Latin West: Studies in the Ruler Cult of the
Western Provinces of the Roman Empire. Vol. 3: Provincial Cult, part 1: Institution and
Evolution. Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 145. Leiden: Brill, 2002.
Fredrick, David. “Architecture and Surveillance in Flavian Rome.” Pages 199–227 in
Flavian Rome: Culture, Image, Text. Edited by Anthony J. Boyle and J. W. Dominik.
Leiden: Brill, 2003.
Gelardini, Gabriella. “Hebrews, an Ancient Synagogue Homily for Tisha be-Av: Its
Function, Its Basis, Its Theological Interpretation.” Pages 107–27 in Hebrews:
Contemporary Methods—New Insights. Edited by Gabriella Gelardini. Biblical
———, ed. Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights. Biblical Interpretation
Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
Girard, Jean-Louis. “Domitien et Minerve: une prédilection impériale.” Pages 233–45 in
Aufstieg und Niedergang der Römischen Welt 2.17.1. Edited by W. Haase. Berlin: de
Gruyter, 1981.
Gordon, Richard. “The Veil of Power: Emperors, Sacrificers and Benefactors.” Pages
201–31 in Pagan Priests: Religion and Power in the Ancient World. Edited by Mary
Beard and John North. London: Duckworth, 1990.
Gray, Patrick. “Brotherly Love and the High Priest Christology of Hebrews.” Journal of
Biblical Literature 122 (2003): 335–51.
———. The Epistle to the Hebrews and Greco-Roman Critiques of Superstition. Leiden:
Brill, 2004.
Hagner, Donald A. Encountering the Book of Hebrews: An Exposition. Grand Rapids:
Baker, 2002.
Hardie A. Statius and the Silvae: Poets, Patrons and Epideixis in the Graeco-Roman
World. Liverpool: Cairns, 1983.
Isaacs, Marie E. “Priesthood and the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Heythrop Journal 38
(1997): 51–62.
Isaak, Jon M. Situating the Letter to the Hebrews in Early Christian History. Studies in the
Bible and Early Christianity 53. Lewiston: Mellen, 2002.
130 Rüpke
Jones, Brian W. The Emperor Domitian. London: Routledge, 1992.

Käsemann, Ernst. Das wandernde Gottesvolk: Eine Untersuchung zum Hebräerbrief.
Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments 55 N.F. 37.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck, 1957.
Kantiréa, Maria. Les dieux et les dieux Augustes: Le culte impérial en Grèce sous les Julio-
claudiens et les Flaviens. Etudes épigraphiques et archéologiques. Meletemata 50.
Athens: de Boccard, 2007.
Leberl, Jens. Domitian und die Dichter: Poesie als Medium der Herrschaftsdarstellung.
Hypomnemata 154. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997.
Levene, D. S. “God and Man in the Classical Latin Panegyric.” Proceedings of the
Cambridge Philological Society 43 (1997): 66–103.
Loader, William R. G. Sohn und Hohepriester: Eine traditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung
zur Christologie des Hebräerbriefes. Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten
und Neuen Testament 53. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1981.
Löhr, Hermut. “Reflections of Rhetorical Terminology in Hebrews.” Pages 199–210 in
Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights. Edited by Gabriella Gelardini.
Biblical Interpretation Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
Malaise, Michel. Pour une terminologie et une analyse des cultes isiaques. Mémoire de la
Classe des Lettres 3.35. Brussels: Académie royale de Belgique, 2005.
Martin, Alain. La titulature épigraphique de Domitien. Beiträge zur klassischen
Philologie 181. Frankfurt am Main: Athenäum, 1987.
Mason, Eric F. “You Are a Priest Forever”: Second Temple Jewish Messianism and the
Priestly Christology of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of
Judah 74. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
Mattingly, Harold. Coins of the Roman Empire in the British Museum. 3 vols. London:
Trustees of the British Museum, 1965–.
Mattingly, Harold, et al., eds. The Roman Imperial Coinage. 9 vols. London: Spink,
1923–81.
Molthagen, Joachim. “Die Lage der Christen im römischen Reich nach dem 1.
Petrusbrief: Zum Problem einer domitianischen Verfolgung.” Historia 44 (1995):
422–58.
Nauta, Ruurd R. Poetry for Patrons: Literary Communication in the Age of Domitian.
Mnemosyne suppl. 206. Leiden: Brill, 2002.
Nissilae, Keijo. Das Hohepriestermotiv im Hebräerbrief—eine exegetische Untersuchung.
Schriften der Finnischen Exegetischen Gesellschaft 33. Helsinki: Exegetische
Gesellschaft, 1979.
Riemer, Ulrike. Das Tier auf dem Kaiserthron? Eine Untersuchung zur Offenbarung des
Johannes als historischer Quelle. Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 114. Stuttgart: Teubner,
1998.
Rissi, Mathias. Die Theologie des Hebräerbriefs: Ihre Verankerung in der Situation des
Verfassers und seiner Leser. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen
Testament 41. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1987.
Rosso, Emmanuelle. “La diffusion de l’idéologie flavienne dans les provinces occiden-
tales de l’Empire : le décor sculpté des monuments publics.” Pages 247–71 in La
transmission de l’idéologie impériale dans l’Occident romain. Edited by M. Navarro
Caballero and J.-M. Roddaz. Ausonius Études 13. Bordeaux: Ausonius, 2006.
Rüpke, Jörg. “Early Christianity in, and out of, Context.” Journal of Roman Studies 99
(2009): 182–93.
———. Fasti sacerdotum: A Prosopography of Pagan, Jewish, and Christian Religious
Officials in the City of Rome, 300 BC to AD 499. Biographies of Christian Officials by
Anne Glock. Trans. David Richardson. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008.
———. Fasti sacerdotum: Die Mitglieder der Priesterschaften und das sakrale
Funktionspersonal römischer, griechischer, orientalischer und jüdisch-christlicher
Kulte in der Stadt Rom von 300 v. Chr. bis 499 n. Chr. Potsdamer altertumswissen-
schaftliche Beiträge 12.1–3. Stuttgart: Steiner, 2005.
———. “Religiöser Pluralismus und das römische Reich.” Pages 331–54 in Die Religion
des Imperium Romanum: Koine und Konfrontationen. Edited by Hubert Cancik and
Jörg Rüpke. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009.
Sauter, Franz. Der römische Kaiserkult bei Martial und Statius. Tübinger Beiträge zur
Altertumswissenschaft 21. Stuttgart: Kolhammer, 1934.
Scholer, John M. Proleptic Priests. Priesthood in the Epistle to the Hebrews. Journal for
the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series 49. Sheffield: Academic Press,
1991.
Schumacher, Leonhard. “Die vier hohen römischen Priesterkollegien unter den
Flaviern, den Antoninen und den Severern (69–235 n. Chr.).” Pages 655–819 in
Aufstieg und Niedergang der Römischen Welt 2.16.1. Edited by Wolfgang Haase.
Berlin, de Gruyter, 1978.
Scott, Kenneth. The Imperial Cult under the Flavians. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1936.
[Repr. New York: Arno, 1975.]
Stepper, Ruth. Augustus et sacerdos: Untersuchungen zum römischen Kaiser als Priester.
Potsdamer altertumswissenschaftliche Beiträge 9. Stuttgart: Steiner, 2003.
———. “Der Kaiser als Priester: Schwerpunkte und Reichweite seines oberpontifi-
kalen Handelns.” Pages 157–87 in Die Praxis der Herrscherverehrung in Rom und
seinen Provinzen. Edited by Hubert Cancik and Konrad Hitzl. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2003.
Strobel, August. Der Brief an die Hebräer. Das Neue Testament Deutsch 9.2. 4th ed.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991.
Stroumsa, Guy. Barbarian Philosophy: The Religious Revolution of Early Christianity.
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 112. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1999.
132 Rüpke
———. La fin du sacrifice. Les mutations religieuses de l’Antiquité tardive. Collection

Collège de France. Paris: Odile Jacob, 2005.
Ullucci, Daniel C. The Christian Rejection of Animal Sacrifice. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2012.
Urner, Christiana. “Kaiser Domitian im Urteil antiker literarischer Quellen und
moderner Forschung.” Diss. Universität Augsburg, 1993.
van Haeperen, Françoise. Le collège pontifical (3ème s. a. C.–4ème s. p. C.): contribution
à l’étude de la religion publique romaine. Brussels: Institut historique belge de Rome,
2002.
Vanhoye, Albert. Structure and Message of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Studia biblica 12.
Rome: Editrice Pontificio Instituto Biblico, 1989.
“For Here We Have No Lasting City” (Heb 13:14a):
Flavian Iconography, Roman Imperial Sacrificial
Iconography, and the Epistle to the Hebrews
Harry O. Maier
Introduction
After saying in 13:12 that Jesus “suffered outside the gate,” the author of
Hebrews writes in vv. 13–14: “Therefore let us go forth to him outside the
camp bearing abuse for him. For here we have no lasting city, but we seek
the city which is to come.” He issues a summons out of the assimilation
which conceals the Christian confession, which promises security with-
out danger and the peaceful enjoyment of life, but which rejects solidar-
ity with the oppressed and thus denies the abused Christ; he calls his
people to join “the secular public with its danger and threat, to the point
of being open to abuse and persecution.” Finally, he justifies that by say-
ing that on earth there is abiding city for Christians. In saying this he is
clearly opposed to the claim of “eternal Rome.” Christians have nothing
to do with the fortress mentality of the Pax Romana. Because they belong
to God’s coming city, they are now on their way to this city unprotected
and full of expectation.1
Klaus Wengst offers a provocative starting point for a reading of the Epistle
to the Hebrews in the political context of the Roman Empire. Writing in 1986,
Wengst applied his exegesis as a theological rejoinder to the deployment in
West Germany of Pershing II cruise missiles and their symbolic expression of
Ronald Reagan’s opposition to a Soviet “Evil Empire.” The promise of “secu-
rity without danger and the peaceful enjoyment of life” captured for Wengst
the idolatry of achieving peace through the deployment of first-strike tactical
nuclear missiles. He discovered in Hebrews an expression of a counter-cultural
civic order that rejected the misbegotten peace of a militaristic ancient empire
in the expectation of a new order: God’s coming city that achieves security
by other means for different ends. However, as striking and as illuminating
as Wengst’s treatment is, few (we will take them up below) have followed his
1 Klaus Wengst, Pax Romana and the Peace of Jesus Christ (trans. John Bowden; Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1987), 142.

134 Maier
lead in offering a politically engaged reading of Hebrews that seeks to locate

the exhortation and ideals of the treatise in the context of competing Roman
imperial claims. So, for example, while Wengst recognizes the clear counter-
claim of Hebrews’ enduring city (13:14; 11:13; 12:22) against Eternal Rome, com-
mentaries pass over that contrast and instead draw attention to the abundant
literary parallels in the Old Testament and intertestamental Jewish tradition.2
Commentators recognize the document’s imperial context by virtue of its
reference to apparently recent persecution (10:32–34; cf. 12:4), but how the
political valences of references to a future city might relate to the larger social
situation remains unrecognized in the historical-critical and literary exegetical
tradition. The result is that New Testament scholars have yet to mine Hebrews
for a potential reading against its imperial context.
There are important exceptions to this trend.3 Craig R. Koester in his com-
mentary on Hebrews, for example, locates Hebrews’ audience in Flavian Rome,
living as immigrants with few civic rights.4 Further, he relates the treatise’s sac-
rificial imagery beyond the immediate backdrop of the Jerusalem temple to
the urban sacrificial rituals of the Greco-Roman world more generally and to
the emperor’s priestly role as high priest more particularly.5 Koester’s reading
echoes earlier commentary, but with a more precise formulation.6 In a similar
2 See, for example, the characteristic (and excellent) exegetical treatment of Harold W.
Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia; Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1989), ad loc. In what follows my aim is not to supplant or question these parallels
but to contextualize them through a reading that attends to socio-historical considerations
of these texts “on the ground,” as it were.
3 In addition to the dedicated studies taken up for more detailed study here, see Jeremy H.
Punt, “The Letter to the Hebrews,” in Postcolonial Commentary on the New Testament Writings
(ed. Ferdinand Segovia and R. S. Sugirtharajah; New York: Continuum, 2007), 338–68, also
with reference to broader issues in the political horizons of the text. David A. deSilva,
Perseverance in Gratitude: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on the Epistle “to the Hebrews”
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000) offers a more sociological and anthropological account of
the text’s ancient cultural context, but without specific reference to its political and social
backdrop and so while his study is promising, it remains too abstract. Robert Jewett, Letter
to Pilgrims: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1981), 13–17,
reads Hebrews as a challenge to American civil religion’s capitulating to a militaristic culture.
4 Craig R. Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 36; New
York: Doubleday, 2001), 72, 495–98, 577.
5 Koester, Hebrews, 79, 297.
6 Herbert Braun, An die Hebräer (HNT 14; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1984), 469–70, comment-
ing on Heb 13:14–15; Ceslas Spicq, L’Épitre aux Hébreux, vol. 1: Introduction (Études bibliques;
Paris: Librairie Lecoffre, 1952), 241, 252, who identifies the audience as constituted by refugees
from the Jewish War living in either Caesarea Maritima or Antioch.
“ For Here We Have No Lasting City ” ( Heb 13:14a ) 135
vein, Jörg Rüpke argues that Hebrews deploys a striking reference to Jesus as
“high priest,” ἀρχιερέα μέγαν (4:14, 15), a term nowhere used in the Septuagint
or Jewish literature to describe the high priest, as a polemic targeted against
the emperor’s position as pontifex maximus.7 There have also been studies that
relate Hebrews to the Roman imperial visual culture. Stephen Muir has taken
up the portrait in Heb 1:3 of Jesus as bearing the stamp (χαρακτήρ) of God’s
nature with reference to the imperial image and its reproduction in imperial
media.8 Ellen Bradshaw Aitken has offered the most extensive engagement of
Hebrews in a Roman imperial setting. She discovers in Hebrews’ christological
claims, as well as in its representation of Jesus’s death as triumph and exalta-
tion, a direct engagement with the imperial reliefs found on the Arch of Titus at
the Roman Forum. The arch commemorates Vespasian’s and Titus’s successful
conclusion of the Jewish War, specifically the consecration of Titus in the tri-
umph to augur his apotheosis upon his death in 81 CE.9 A reading of Hebrews
before the Arch of Titus shows parallels with the monument that are not acci-
dental but rather intended to contest the celebration of the emperor’s achieve-
ment and his anticipated deification. Just as the Flavian Triumph concluded
with the Triumphator making sacrifice and offering prayers at the temple of
Jupiter Optimus Maximus, so too Jesus offers himself in his triumphal death
to God the Father (Heb 5:7, 10; 9:11–14, 26, 28; 10:1–18; 13:12) and reveals himself,
like the emperor, as elected by God to be both Son and Priest. Hebrews’ author
used psalms of adoption and enthronement10 to engage Flavian imperial ideol-
ogy centred on divine claims for the deceased emperor. The treatise’s depiction
of Jesus’s enthronement adapts a Roman theology of victory to affirm that it is
Jesus, and not the emperor, who is rightly awarded apotheosis as confirmation
of a divinely orchestrated and successfully concluded achievement.
How might one further extend such an imperial reading? As I hope to show,
consideration of the visual culture of Flavian Rome as a backdrop to Hebrews’
7 Jörg Rüpke, “Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian Innovations in the Concept of
Priesthood and their Repercussions in the Treatise ‘To the Hebrews,’ ” Revue de l’histoire
des religions 229 (2012): 5–30. See also Prof. Rüpke’s contribution to this volume.
8 S. Muir, “The Anti-Imperial Rhetoric of Heb. 1.3: χαρακτήρ as a ‘Double-Edged Sword,’ ” in
A Crowd of Witnesses: The Theology of Hebrews in its Ancient Context (ed. Richard
Bauckham et al.; New York: Continuum, 2008), 170–86.
9 Ellen Bradshaw Aitken, “Portraying the Temple in Stone and Text: The Arch of Titus
and the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights
(ed. Gabriella Gelardini; BINS 75; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 131–48; “Reading Hebrews in Flavian
Rome,” Union Seminary Quarterly Review 59 (2005): 82–85.
10 See Heb 1:3–4, 5, 8, 13; 2:9; 3:3; 4:14; 5:5, 9; 6:20; 7:15–17, 26; 8:1; 12:2; see Ps 2:7; 8:6; 44:7; 45:6;
110:1, 4.
136 Maier
ekphrastic rhetorical strategies furnishes a promising avenue of exploration.11

Increasingly scholars are turning to imperial iconography as a resource for
exegeting and interpreting New Testament texts.12 Yet treatment of such imag-
ery is often impressionistic and without a method for considering the role of
visual culture in the reading and interpretation of biblical literature. Further,
recognized parallels with imperial ideology and culture in biblical texts too
often lead to the conclusion that their presence indicates opposition to the
Roman Empire. Recent work, however, has begun to offer a more disciplined
and nuanced approach to the uses of visual data in biblical interpretation,
and, as I hope to show, striking imperial visual language and imagery needs to
be interpreted as part of strategic methods of persuasion. Realizing the ben-
efits of attention to ancient visual culture, Hebrew Bible scholars have devel-
oped methods for the study of the Bible with the help of ancient Near Eastern
iconography.13 Recently Rosemary Canavan has developed a model of what
she calls “visual exegesis” of the New Testament.14 Her methods build on
Vernon K. Robbins’s attention to the “visual texture” of texts and the role of
rhetography (written description) in the persuasive strategies of emergent
Christianity.15 Others have also followed Robbins’s lead in essays and mono-
graphs that engage visual culture in socio-rhetorical interpretation.16 My aim is
first to build on these studies by defining visual culture, then to relate this defi-
nition to how images and texts work together to construct or contest visual cul-
ture, and finally, with the help of the anthropological work of Markus Banks,
11 Provenance and dating are debatable. For the warrants for a Roman Flavian location,
see W. Manson, The Epistle to the Hebrews: An Historical and Theological Reconstruction
(London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1951); Mathias Rissi, Die Theologie des Hebräerbriefs: Ihre
Verankerung in der Situation des Verfassers und seiner Leser (WUNT 41; Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1987); Attridge, Hebrews, 60–100; Koester, Hebrews, 45–50. For the hypotheti-
cal nature of these arguments, see Erich Gräßer, An die Hebräer (3 vols.; EKKNT; Zürich:
Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–97), 1:22–25.
12 For a summary with bibliography, Harry O. Maier, Picturing Paul in Empire: Imperial
Image, Text and Persuasion in Colossians, Ephesians and the Pastorals Epistles (London:
Bloomsbury / T&T Clark, 2013), 20–22.
13 For an overview, Izaak J. De Hulster, Iconographic Exegesis and Third Isaiah (FAT 2.26;
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009).
14 Rosemary Canavan, Clothing the Body of Christ at Colossae: A Visual Construction of
Identity (WUNT 2.334; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012), 53–66.
15 Vernon K. Robbins, “Rhetography: A New Way of Seeing the Familiar Text,” in Words Well
Spoken: George Kennedy’s Rhetoric of the New Testament (ed. C. Clifton Black and Duane F.
Watson; Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press), 81–106.
16 For an overview see Maier, Picturing Paul, 17–21.
to relate Hebrews to Roman imperial picture language. My goal is not to argue

that political iconography has caused the contents of Hebrews, but rather to
call for the recognition of the centrality of such imagery to the persuasive strat-
egies of the treatise. The reading put forward here seeks to demonstrate the
importance of Flavian visual culture in helping to shape the imagination and
beliefs of Hebrews’ first listeners.
Engagement with the visual world of the New Testament belongs within
the larger arena of the study of visual culture more generally. Such investiga-
tion represents a wide array of interdisciplinary interests and approaches that
range from critical theory, semiotics, and gender and ethnic studies to psycho-
analysis and iconology.17 David Morgan furnishes a useful definition of this
general movement that informs the following consideration of visual culture
in Hebrews. He defines religious culture as “the images and objects that deploy
particular ways of seeing and therefore contribute to the social, intellectual,
and perceptual construction of reality.”18 Visual culture has a central role in
creating worlds with the help of imagination and practice: “the study of visual
culture consists of asking how images as well as rituals, epistemologies, tastes,
sensibilities, and cognitive frameworks that inform visual experience help
construct the worlds people live in and care about.”19 Morgan’s definition and
application are especially relevant for a text as rich in graphic liturgical and
ritual language as Hebrews, which also articulates cognitive frameworks that
present listeners as sojourners in a foreign city and draws vivid comparisons
between the temple cult and Jesus’s royal and priestly offices.
Another theoretician useful in a visual study of Hebrews is William J. T.
Mitchell, who takes up the importance of vision and visual culture in cogni-
tion and social identity. Mitchell considers the “the semantic, syntactic, com-
municative power of images to encode messages, tell stories, express ideas and
emotions, raise questions, and ‘speak’ to us.”20 He coined the term “imagetext”
and improvises upon it to describe the ways in which images wedded with
texts affirm, revise, and/or challenge the social constructions of visual culture.
17 For a discussion of the genesis and intersecting interests of the study of visual culture,
see Martin Lister and Liz Well, “Seeing beyond Belief: Cultural Studies as an Approach to
Analyzing the Visual,” in Handbook of Visual Analysis (ed. Theo Van Leeuwen and Carey
Jewett; London: Sage, 2001), 61–91.
18 David Morgan, The Sacred Gaze: Religious Visual Culture in Theory and Practice (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2005), 27.
19 Morgan, Sacred Gaze, 25.
20 William J. T. Mitchell, introduction to The Language of Images (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1980), 3.
138 Maier
Imagetext describes “composite, synthetic works (or concepts) that combine

image and text”; image-text portrays “relations of the visual” (Mitchell’s ital-
ics); and image/text represents “a problematic gap, cleavage, or rupture in
representation.”21 Behind Mitchell’s formulations is an awareness of the social
construction of vision—the institutions, media and places of display, organi-
zation of knowledge, and values that determine “how we see, how we are able,
allowed or made to see.”22 Imagetext and its permutations form a means of
studying how visual culture creates audiences who are expected to use, view,
and act within and with the visible in particular ways and to locate themselves
within a particular reign of the visible. Scholarly treatment of Hebrews has
given much attention to what Mitchell would define as imagetext. That is, it
has attended to the roles of biblical and intertestamental imagery and sacred
narrative in creating a world for listeners to imagine. Less attention has been
directed to image/text and the disruptions of the visual culture of Hebrews’
Roman listeners in their urban setting.
Marcus Banks, an anthropologist of visual culture, offers an approach to
the study of visible artifacts found in material and textual culture that is com-
plementary to the ideas developed by Morgan and Mitchell. Banks considers
artifacts in the light of their internal and external narratives. “Internal narra-
tive” refers to the self-enclosed stories that artifacts represent or symbolize.
“External narrative” describes the relation of the internal narrative to the larger
external story and visual culture in which it is found. Critical visual analysis
requires a systematic comparison of internal and external narratives. Such
treatment enables an understanding of the social construction of vision. One
seeks to understand how artifacts contribute to the creation of visual culture
and how they form viewers to participate within a social order in particular
ways. Banks does not consider the role of Roman imperial iconography in cre-
ating internal narratives that belong to larger cultural narrative configurations,
but his methodological approach is especially useful to that study. In particu-
lar, it offers a rigorous method for the use of Roman iconography in the study
of biblical texts like Hebrews.
In fact, something like attention to preserving a connection between the
internal and larger cultural external narratives is championed in ancient rhe-
torical handbooks when they take up the correct practice for and training in
21 William J. T. Mitchell, Picture Theory: Essays on Verbal and Visual Representation (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1994), 89 (author’s emphasis).
22 Hal Foster, introduction to Vision and Visuality (Dia Art Foundation Discussions in
Contemporary Culture 2; Seattle: Bay Press, 1988), ix.
the use of vivid speech. The Progymnasmata, elementary textbooks used to

train rhetoricians, outline the use of vivid description (ekphrasis) in the task
of persuasion. The authors of these handbooks share an understanding of
ekphrastic speech as “descriptive language, bringing what is portrayed clearly
before the sight,” as “a vivid impression of all-but-seeing what is described.”23
The handbooks and instructors emphasized that speakers should draw upon a
shared repertoire of visual images and experience in order to make ekphrasis
most persuasive. As Ruth Webb has shown in her study of ekphrasis in the early
Common Era, this emphasis is at home in cognitive theories in which descrip-
tive speech is seen to trigger culturally known and emotion-laden memory.
Through placing graphic images of declaimed-upon topics in listeners’ minds,
with their speeches rhetors sought to prompt the active participation of the lis-
teners and to steer the listeners’ emotional responses.24 This technique forms
the theoretical backdrop to Quintilian’s representation of the force of graphic
speech:
The person who will show the greatest power in expression of emotions
will be the person who has properly formed what the Greeks call phanta-
siai (let us call them “visions”) by which the images of absent things are
presented to the mind in such a way that we actually see them with our
eyes and have them physically present to us. (Inst. 6.2.29–30)
Quintilian teaches that rhetors who deploy vivid description should not
depart too far from daily experiences, for by doing so they can assure that lis-
teners will fill in details and even contribute their own visions of the things
declaimed upon (Inst. 8.3.65, 71). Quintilian’s representation, as well as the
Progymnasmata’s treatments, shows an attention to internal and external nar-
ratives in ancient rhetoric and the importance of visual culture in persuasion
more generally.
23 Thus Theon (first century CE), Progymnasmata 11, in The Progymnasmata: Greek Textbooks
of Prose Composition and Rhetoric (trans. and ed. George A. Kennedy; Writings from the
Greco-Roman World 10; Atlanta: SBL, 2003), 45–47. Other authors of the textbooks furnish
similar definitions: Hermogenes 10 (Kennedy, Progymnasmata, 86), Aphthonius 12 (117),
Nicolaus 11 (166–67), and Sopatros 12 (218–19).
24 Ruth Webb, Ekphrasis, Imagination, and Persuasion in Ancient Rhetorical Theory and
Practice (Farnham, UK, Burlington, Ver.: Ashgate, 2009), 87–130.
140 Maier
The treatise to the Hebrews is a text filled with vivid speech and
description.25 Not only does it repeatedly invite its listeners to see, consider,
or behold what it represents (2:9; 3:1; 7:4; 12:3; 12:21), but it also enables such
visualization through the use of graphic language and simile. A comparison
of Hebrews with examples of ekphrastic speech in the handbooks reveals
the degree to which the biblical author is consciously seeking to place what
he describes before his listeners’ eyes.26 Koester makes a similar observa-
tion when he states that “Hebrews’ style is remarkable for the visual quality
of its language.”27 The most extended ekphrastic passages occur at 9:1–5 and
12:18–24, where the author describes the Tent of Meeting and Mounts Sinai
and Zion.28 As we will see, Hebrews’ deployment of ekphrasis invites its listen-
ers to engage in what I will describe as the author’s theatricality. The author
relied upon his listeners to be able to imagine a repertoire of images familiar
to them through their own acquaintance with the Hebrew Bible. But along-
side that acquaintance he could also depend on their acquaintance with their
daily visual experiences of their imperial urban context. Hebrews 9:1–10:25, for
example, centers chiefly on a graphic juxtaposition of Hebrew Bible sacrifice
with the sacrifice of Jesus. But it was not only the Hebrew Bible that placed at
its religious center a sacrificial cult. The ancient Mediterranean world valued
ritual sacrifice as instrumental in preserving the good of the social order. From
the Augustan period onward, emperors took special care to represent them-
selves as dedicated sacrificants whose piety mirrored their dedication to both
the gods and Rome. We should locate the ekphrastic descriptions of Hebrews’
internal narratives within a framework of both biblical and imperial external
visual narratives. As we will see, the connection of Jesus with a tent/sanctuary
“not made with hands” (9:11, see also 24) is telling when considered against the
backdrop of the massive Flavian building project undertaken in the Rome of
Hebrews’ contemporaries.
25 For discussion with literature, Scott D. Mackie, “Heavenly Sanctuary Mysticism in the
Epistle to the Hebrews,” JTS 62 (2011): 77–117, at 100–117; Brian C. Small, The Characterization
of Jesus in the Book of Hebrews (BINS 128; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 152–58.
26 See, for example, the multiple examples furnished in Libanius’s Progymnasmata, in
Libanius’ Progymnasmata: Model Exercises in Greek Prose Composition and Rhetoric (trans.
and ed. Craig A. Gibson, Writings from the Greco-Roman World 27; Atlanta: SBL, 2008),
427–507.
27 Koester, Hebrews, 92; Koester draws attention to Longinus’s representation of ekphrastic
speech as making a topic most forceful when “you see what you describe and bring it
vividly before the eyes of your audience” (On the Sublime 15.1).
28 Mackie, “Heavenly Sanctuary Mysticism,” 103–4, broadens these and identifies four
extended ekphrastic passages in Hebrews: 1:5–2:13; 3:1–4:16; 9:1–10:25; 12:18–24.
Imperial Visual Culture of Sacrifice
Augustus is remarkable for a number of religious innovations that are impor-

tant for a reading of Hebrews. As Jörg Rüpke has shown, civic religious ritual
in Rome was sacra publica, a term that expresses publicly funded ritual and
sites dedicated to the gods. Taken as a whole, sacra publica describes the fulfill-
ment of all the obligations of worship of the gods staged by the political com-
munity to honor the deities for the benefits they had bestowed upon the city.29
Sacra publica took many forms, including sacrifices, libations, processions,
games, and triumphs, events usually carried out in conformity with a calendar
on which all the city’s public religious festivals were listed. Such rituals had
more than the functional purpose of social integration. Patterned after social
rituals of patronage and honors, these rituals were a means to shape the lives
of superiors and inferiors more generally. The divine rewards of continuing
social stability, freedom from harm, and preeminence were preserved through
right worship.30 The inhabitants of Rome, like the audience that listened to
Hebrews, could hardly have escaped these rituals or remained unaware that
one of their chief functions was to mark and reinforce religious allegiance and
civic identity. Nor could they have lived their lives without seeing the iconic
representations of public religious practice that filled the city. A good example
is the Arch of Titus, analyzed as an iconographical resource in Aitken’s study
of Hebrews.31 But there were others. Fragments of the so-called ara pietatis
Augustae offer a striking instance. Claudius erected the monument early in his
reign to help signal his dynastic connection with Augustus.32 On it are repre-
sentations of sacrifices paired with reliefs of the Temples of Magna Mater and
Mars Ultor (figs. 1 and 2), temples restored and dedicated by Augustus. Scholars
have sometimes, probably incorrectly, identified the frontal figure on the right
in figure 2 as Claudius.33 Whether they depict the emperor as sacrificant or
not, the reliefs are excellent examples of political propaganda connecting the
enduring benefits conferred by the gods on the reign of Claudius, preserved by
sacrifice.
29 Jörg Rüpke, Religion of the Romans (trans. Richard Gordon; Cambridge: Polity Press, 2007),
21–24.
30 Rüpke, Religion of the Romans, 102.
31 Aitken, “Portraying the Temple,” 131–48; “Reading Hebrews,” 82–85.
32 For discussion, Diana E. E. Kleiner, Roman Sculpture (Yale Publications in the History of
Art; New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1992), 141–45.
33 For discussion and arguments about identification, as well as the occasion of the reliefs,
Raymond Bloch, “L’ ‘ara pietatis augustae,’ ” Mélanges d’archéologie et d’histoire 56 (1939):
81–120.
142 Maier
Figure 1 Ara Pietatis Augustae Sacrifice and Temple of Magna Mater. Villa Medici, Rome.
Considering the critical role of sacra publica in organizing time and space, as
well as in preserving the social order, it is remarkable that Augustus gradually
came to occupy all the official priesthoods of the city. In doing so he assured
that ritual and tradition would be linked with his own person. To this end
he revived forgotten cults and furnished them with new temples. He reorga-
nized the structure of the city by dividing it into fourteen districts and 265
wards, with shrines at every crossroads where annual sacrifices to the Lares
Augusti and Genius Augusti were offered. He moved the traditional date of
sacrifice to the Lares from 1 March to the eponymously named August, thus
assuring that both time and urban space were sanctified by his presence. The
urban readers of Hebrews would have been greeted by shrines with icono-
graphic representations of the kind we can see on one of the altars, which
portrays Augustus as sacrificant handing two statuettes of the Lares to the
vicomagistri—officials he had appointed to tend to the annual sacrifices
(fig. 3). His most important priestly office was that of pontifex maximus. But
Figure 2 Ara Pietatis Augustae, sacrifice and Temple of Mars. Villa Medici, Rome.
instead of fulfilling his priestly obligation by moving to the official’s residence

on the Forum next to the precinct of the Vestal Virgins, he made his own home
the official residence, after declaring it public property, and dedicated a shrine
of Vesta there. He thus linked his own identity with Aeneas, who had brought
the fire of Vesta with him from Troy, and thus with the mythic foundation of
Rome. As augurium salutis, he took charge of a ceremony that entitled only
him to determine if it was legitimate to ask the gods to grant the state safety.
Because a chief focus of his iconographic program was to link himself with
the sacra publica, he was also at pains to assure his image became emblematic
of the successful exchange between the gods and civic order, and hence the
security and continuing well-being of the city. These moves and appropria-
tions helped to set the new tone: “from this period on, virtually no one else
is depicted on a Roman public monument conducting sacrifice: Roman reli-
gion was becoming tied to a particular person as well as to a particular place.”34
Chief amongst the recurring images of Augustus was depiction of him veiled
in a toga and in the stance of sacrifice, as pontifex maximus (fig. 4). Even as
34 Mary Beard, John North, and Simon Price, Religions of Rome, vol. 1: A History (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1998), 186; for a more detailed discussion with primary texts,
see pp. 167–210.
144 Maier
Figure 3 Augustan Altar of the Vicomagistri.

Vatican Museum, Rome.
Hebrews departs from the Septuagint to describe Jesus with highly evocative
description as ἀρχιερέα μέγαν, imperial portraiture offers us a picture of how
listeners were being invited to imagine and interpret their own greatest sacrifi-
cant and to consider the new time in which they also were living even as they
were also invited to envision an old cult fading away.
The Flavian City
The author of the treatise to the Hebrews invites its listeners to view them-
selves as having no lasting city on earth and to look forward to the coming city
whose builder is God (Heb 11:10, 16): “For here we have no lasting city, but we are
looking for the city that is to come” (13:14). The internal narrative of Hebrews
plots its listeners as belonging to a great company of sojourners who faithfully
suffer and follow God’s call in the hope of the fulfillment of God’s promises. It
graphically describes the former suffering of the audience (10:32–34), and then
locates them in an overarching biblical narrative of the faithful who remained
faithful by looking ahead in hope to what was promised them. “All of these
died in faith, without having received the promises, but from a distance they
saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners
on earth [ξένοι καὶ παρεπίδημοί εἰσιν ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς]” (11:13). They “make it clear that
they are seeking a homeland [πατρίδα]” (v. 14); they “desire a better country,
that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God;
indeed, he has prepared a city for them” (v. 16). The shift from past to present
tense in these descriptions helps not only to make the descriptions themselves
more vivid, but also to make listeners contemporary with them.
These passages take on a striking meaning when placed against their impe-
rial backdrop and within their immediate civic context. The references to
persecution contain obvious impact. But equally potent are those references
relating to the better country and the city that has been prepared for those who
die in faith. As we have seen, Morgan defines religious culture as images and
objects that promote the “social, intellectual and perceptual construction of
reality”; its study attends to the “ritual, epistemologies, tastes, sensibilities, and
cognitive frameworks that inform visual experience help construct the worlds
people live in and care about.”35 The city in which the audience of Hebrews
lived was one that was itself using buildings and other means of visual cul-
ture to build a civic world that would shape what people would care about
and live within. The capital contemporary with Hebrews was a city under mas-
sive reconstruction. The civil war of 68/69 CE left the center of Rome in ruins,
and offered an unprecedented opportunity for a new dynasty to leave its mark
on the city as Vespasian set about rebuilding and restoring buildings. As well
as repairing the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus Capitolinus, Vespasian
built the Temple of Jupiter Custos, restored the Temple of Honos and Virtus,
completed the Temple to the Deified Claudius, restored Augustan monuments
such as the Theater of Marcellus that had been damaged in the civil war, erected
three triumphal arches, built new aqueducts, and rebuilt bridges and roads.36

36 For Vespasian’s renovation of Rome and Italy, Barbara Levick, Vespasian (London:
Routledge, 1999), 14–24–34; for a catalogue of building projects, see Marion Elizabeth
Blake, Roman Construction in Italy from Tiberius through the Flavians (Washington, D.C.:
Carnegie Institution of Washington, 1959), 87–165. For Vespasian’s arches, F. S. Kleiner,
“The Arches of Vespasian in Rome,” Mitteilungen des deutschen archäologischen Instituts:
Römische Abteilung 97 (1990): 127–36.
146 Maier
Figure 4
Augustus as Pontifex Maximus. Vatican Museum, Rome.
Accompanying these restorations and building campaigns, the Flavians

exploited coinage as a medium to portray themselves as restorers of the civil
order and founders of a new and enduring order. Vespasian and his successor
took special care to use numismatic imagery as propaganda. Images were repro-
duced for lower denominations as a means of broadcasting these images to as
wide a population as possible.37 One early issue portrays Vespasian raising up
a kneeling Roma, with the inscription ROMA RESURGENS.38 Alongside the
image of Rome being raised from her knees, in the year of Vespasian’s acces-
sion and in several issues thereafter, imperial mints struck coins with Roma
37 Jan Eric Blamberg, “The Public Image Projected by the Roman Emperors (AD 69–117)
as Reflected in Contemporary Imperial Coinage” (Ph.D. diss., Indiana University, 1976),
31–33.
38 Harold Mattingly, Coins of the Roman Empire in the British Museum, vol. 2: Vespasian to
Domitian (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1930), no. 425.
seated, helmeted in military dress, with the inscription ROMA PERPETUA.39

Upon the completion of the Coliseum, Titus issued coins with its image.40 The
Flavian reconstruction of Rome inspired Pliny the Elder to offer an extended
ekphrastic encomium depicting the architectural wonders of Rome (Nat.
36.101–125; urbis nostrae miracula, at 101) and so create in the imaginations of
his readers a vision of a worldwide Roman imperium. “For if you were to gather
all the buildings of Rome and place them in one great heap,” he hymns, “the
grandeur which towered above would be no less than if another world were
described in the one place” (Nat. 36.101).
Pliny’s enthusiasm for a rebuilt capital finds telling testimony in the reliefs
of the tomb of the Haterii, freedpersons living in the late Flavian period. The
monument depicts a variety of Roman structures, of which the most famous
is the Coliseum, as well as a crane (figs. 5 and 6). The reliefs have been vari-
ously explained, but the most widely held interpretation is that they depict
building projects participated in by Quintus Haterius Tychicus, contractor and
freedperson of the Haterius family. If true, we have here a celebration from the
perspective of an everyday—albeit most probably nouveau riche—viewer of
Flavian Rome whose family takes pride not only in the accomplishments of
a family member, but also in the construction and renovation of the city
itself. Flavian numismatic iconography representing the renovation of Rome
would have found and in turn helped to shape enthusiastic reception amongst
people who, like the Haterii, benefited from the emperor’s patronage and
building projects.41
The Haterii reliefs also testify to the importance of the Flavian victory in
the Jewish War as a means of political legitimation. Military success in Roman
Palestine was not only repeatedly commemorated in issues, but also depicted
on monuments. The Arch of Titus is a chief example. The representation of the
crane used to construct the Coliseum portrays palm fronds as well as workers,
no doubt a reference to the victory and perhaps a portrait of Jewish slaves who
were used to build the arena. On its horizontal relief, the Arch of Isis depicts
at the top right and left bound captives below a palm tree, again a representa-
tion of triumph in Judea, with a quadriga at the center. These images attest
to the monumental commemoration of the victory, especially as, according to
Josephus, Vespasian and Titus’s Triumph began with the emperor leaving
39 Mattingly, Coins of the Roman Empire, vol. 2, no. 424.

40 Mattingly, Coins of the Roman Empire, vol. 2, no. 190.
41 W. Jensen, “The Sculptures from the Tomb of the Haterii 1–2” (Ph.D. diss., University of
Michigan, 1978), remains the definitive study; for varying interpretations including the
one cited here, Kleiner, Sculpture, 196–99.
148 Maier
Figure 5 Tomb of the Haterii, Coliseum Crane. Vatican Museum, Rome.
Figure 6 Tomb of the Haterii, Sacra Via Relief. Vatican Museum, Rome.
the Temple of Isis at dawn (B.J. 7.123–124). Another important monument

was the Temple of Peace, which Josephus reports was commissioned by
Vespasian to display publicly sacred objects plundered from the Second Temple
(B.J. 7.158–162), as well as artifacts commemorating his victory over Vitellius
in the civil war. The emperor positioned the temple strategically to face the
Forum of Augustus in order to associate Flavian achievement with that of his
predecessor. The Temple of Peace, like the Altar of Peace of Augustus, thus
became an official monument to peace, a peace brought by the Flavians to
Rome after years of civil war and foreign war and an expression of an imperial
theology of victory and the renewal of the city. The spoils of war put on display
there signified Rome’s divinely appointed tasks of pacifying enemies and weld-
ing the empire’s dispersed inhabitants into a cosmopolitan unity.
Hebrews’ Theatricality
In a recent essay, Felix Mundt has drawn attention to the use of vivid descrip-
tion by Roman historians to make depicted scenes present to their audiences.
He uses the terms “Bildlichkeit ” and “Theatrikalität ” to describe how histori-
ans turn readers into observers by placing historical events onto a world stage
(a Theatrum mundi) for their readers to see. Mundt argues that such theatricality
requires two elements—that scenes are set for observation with vivid descrip-
tion and that audiences are turned into observers through cues inviting them
to see or behold what the historian depicts.42 As we saw above, Hebrews turns
listeners into viewers in its repeated exhortations to consider, see, and behold.
Further, the treatise displays for its listeners significant events of biblical his-
tory (for example, the long narration of sacred history, 11:1–40). Figuration and
theatricality are important persuasive strategies in Hebrews and create audi-
ences as observers who look with the narrator at the scenes being depicted.
Such Bildlichkeit is enhanced and rendered more dramatic by shifting points
of view. The two ekphrastic passages of 9:1–10 and 12:18–24 are instructive in
how they differ from one another in their use of third-person and second-
42 Felix Mundt, “Rom als Bühne bei Cassius Dio, Herodian, und in der Historia Augusta,” in
Kommunikationsräume im kaiserzeitlichen Rom (ed. Felix Mundt; Topoi: Berlin Studies of
the Ancient World 6; Berlin: De Gruyter, 2012), 173–94, at 190. For similar accounts of the
uses of ekphrasis and enargeia but without reference to theatricality, Andrew D. Walker,
“Enargeia and the Spectator in Greek Historiography,” TAPhA 123 (1993): 353–77; Cynthia
Damon, “The Historian’s Presence, or, There and Back Again,” in Ancient Historiography
and its Contexts (ed. Christina S. Kraus, John Marincola, and Chris Pelling; Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2010), 353–63.
150 Maier
person-plural narrative. In the first passage, the author invites listeners to

view the sacrificial temple and its furniture from a more distant third-person
perspective, a point of view shared in his representation of Mount Sinai at
12:20–21. By contrast, he makes the audience participate in the narration when
he turns to second-person address and affirms an experience shared with his
listeners of Christ’s sacrificial achievements (9:11–14; 12:18, 22–24). This second-
person address is made more immediate when the author moves from second-
person address to first-person-plural exhortation. Thus, after having listeners
visualize Mount Zion, he says, “Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom
that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an accept-
able worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire”
(12:28–29). In 10:22–23, after contrasting the enduring benefits of Christ’s sac-
rifice with the temporary benefits of the Levitical priesthood, he urges with
equally graphic language:
Therefore, my friends, since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary

by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us
through the curtain (that is, through his flesh), and since we have a great
priest [ἰερέα μέγαν] over the house of God, let us approach with a true
heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an
evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.
The author here creates two forms of theatricality, one that positions the audi-
ence above and detached from the scene as a distant past event and one that
places the audience as the beneficiaries of a present and enduring event.
This dual strategy invites the listeners of Hebrews to embody the identity of
sojourners. They have no lasting city, but they look to the city to come. They
belong to a community that suffers for its witness even as those who popu-
late their sacred history suffered for the city they did not see but hoped for.
David Mackie has convincingly argued that Hebrews creates a vivid narra-
tive so that through visualization listeners would be placed in the heavenly
sanctuary and realities the treatise portrays. For Mackie, Hebrews provides
a mystical visuality. Ekphrasis inspires imagination and vision. It has a hor-
tatory function that places hearers in the heavenly throne room so that they
can “ ‘see’ the exalted Jesus (2:9; 3:1; 9:24–26; 12:2) and their involvement in the
enthronement/adoption ceremony (2:13; 10:24–25).”43 These passages achieve,
according to Mackie, the treatise’s central aim—to reverse the audience’s
waning commitment and to firm up their public witness. His arguments
43 Mackie, “Heavenly Sanctuary Mysticism,” 94.

concerning the centrality of ekphrasis in Hebrews to achieve this end are

instructive. To them one should add, however, the importance of lived experi-
ence as the means by which rhetors turned listeners into viewers. In this case,
the lived experience of Flavian Rome, a city that was being fashioned as an
enduring city of cement and marble and preserved through imperial sacrifices,
forms the experience from which the elements of Hebrews’ graphic passages are
crafted. Hebrews creates an alternative visual culture by creating a new “social,
intellectual and perceptual construction of reality.”44 By inviting visualization
and hence participation in the final and complete sacrifice of Jesus, Hebrews
reveals its audience as beneficiaries living through ritual in a new set of “epis-
temologies, tastes, sensibilities, and cognitive frameworks that inform visual
experience.” Hebrews urges listeners with a vision of a new world to “live in
and care about.”45 Third-person observation, second-person address, and first-
person-plural exhortation create what we might call a Theatrum sacri—a
theatre of the sacred with which to interpret and live the urban realities of
a burgeoning Flavian city. Bildlichkeit and Theatrikalität transform listeners
into the citizenry of a new and different city and offer listeners an eternal foun-
dation and unending well-being in an alternative civic order.
Image/Text—Conclusion
As we have seen, in his iconological theory W. J. T. Mitchell distinguishes between

imagetext, image-text, and image/text to signify the complex relationships of
vision, cognition, and text. Much of Hebrews works in the register of imag-
etext and image-text to create, through graphic speech, synthetic and direct
correlations of the visual and textual. Imagetext recurs in ekphrastic passages
where the author positions listeners in Israel’s sacred history as strangers and
sojourners. Image-text appears in passages like 1:1–14, where the writer com-
bines a pastiche of graphic passages to invite hearers to “see” Christ’s enthrone-
ment. “Image/text,” by contrast, expresses “a problematic gap, cleavage, or
rupture in representation.” Hebrews’ representation of Jesus as “great high
priest” (ἀρχιερέα μέγαν) (4:14, 15) is a prime example of such cleavage or rupture
in representation, since the recognizably imperial title of pontifex maximus is
used to describe the priestly office of Jesus, an office that expresses itself in his
sacrifice of himself rather than a sacrificial victim. Taken as a whole, the trea-
tise of Hebrews is an extended image/text when read against the imagetext of

45 Ibid.
152 Maier
Flavian Rome. For whereas in the imperial city, the splendor of a Flavian Roma
perpetua is built on the suffering of others and the vanquishing of the enemy in
civil war, the temple built without hands where Jesus’s enduring sacrifice has
been made represents a different splendor. The vivid language of Hebrews is
not only a way of transporting listeners into a heavenly realm where they can
directly witness and participate in an enthronement and adoption, as Mackie
has argued. It is also a means of positioning listeners amidst their lived reali-
ties to conduct themselves in a particular way. As Wengst argues in the passage
cited at the opening of this discussion, the relating of Jesus’s suffering outside
the gate (13:12) and the exhortation to “go to him outside the camp and bear
the abuse he endured” (v. 13) express a different means of occupying a city that
cannot abide, by practicing, through witness and discipleship, hope for the
city that is to come. Situated amidst the Flavian rebuilding of Rome, Hebrews’
ekphrastic strategies created an internal narrative by picturing a set of affirma-
tions against the backdrop of a larger imperial external narrative. The treatise
thereby shaped listeners to see the city around them in a new way. A reading of
Hebrews attentive to Roman sacrificial and urban iconography helps to recog-
nize how ekphrasis would have helped a group of first-century Christ followers
envision their own urban identity. Through image/text, Hebrews represents a
rupture in Flavian political iconography and its imperial meanings.
Bibliography
Braun, Herbert. An die Hebräer. Handbuch zum Neuen Testament 14. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1984.
deSilva, David A. Perseverance in Gratitude: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on the
Epistle “to the Hebrews.” Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000.
Gräßer, Erich. An die Hebräer. 3 vols. Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar zum Neuen
Testament 17. Zürich: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–97.
Jewett, Robert. Letter to Pilgrims: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. New
York: Pilgrim Press, 1981.
Manson, W. The Epistle to the Hebrews: An Historical and Theological Reconstruction.
London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1951.
Spicq, Ceslas. L’Épitre aux Hébreux. 2 vols. Études bibliques. Paris: Librairie Lecoffre, 1952.
Other Literature
Aitken, Ellen Bradshaw. “Portraying the Temple in Stone and Text: The Arch of
Titus and the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages 131–48 in Hebrews: Contemporary
Methods—New Insights. Edited by Gabriella Gelardini. Biblical Interpretation
Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
———. “Reading Hebrews in Flavian Rome.” Union Seminary Quarterly Review 59
(2005): 82–85.
Beard, Mary, John North, and Simon Price. Religions of Rome. 2 vols. Cambridge:
Blake, Marion Elizabeth. Roman Construction in Italy from Tiberius through the Flavians.
Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Institution of Washington, 1959.
Blamberg, Jan Eric. “The Public Image Projected by the Roman Emperors (AD 69–117)
as Reflected in Contemporary Imperial Coinage.” PhD diss., Indiana University, 1976.
Bloch, Raymond. “L’ ‘ara pietatis augustae.’ ” Mélanges d’archéologie et d’histoire 56
(1939): 81–120.
Canavan, Rosemary. Clothing the Body of Christ at Colossae: A Visual Construction
of Identity. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 2.334.
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012.
Damon, Chris. “The Historian’s Presence, or, There and Back Again.” Pages 353–63
in Ancient Historiography and its Contexts. Edited by Christina S. Kraus, John
Marincola, and Chris Pelling. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010.
De Hulster, Izaak J. Iconographic Exegesis and Third Isaiah. Forschungen zum Alten
Testament 2.26. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009.
Foster, Hal, ed. Vision and Visuality. Dia Art Foundation Discussions in Contemporary
Culture 2. Seattle: Bay Press, 1988.
Gibson, Craig A., ed. and trans. Libanius’ Progymnasmata: Model Exercises in Greek
Prose Composition and Rhetoric. Writings from the Greco-Roman World 27. Atlanta:
Society of Biblical Literature, 2008.
Jensen, W. “The Sculptures from the Tomb of the Haterii 1–2.” PhD. diss., University of
Michigan, 1978.
Kennedy, George A., trans. and ed. The Progymnasmata: Greek Textbooks of Prose
Composition and Rhetoric. Writings from the Greco-Roman World 10. Atlanta:
Kleiner, Diana E. E. Roman Sculpture. Yale Publications in the History of Art. New
Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1992.
Kleiner, Fred S. “The Arches of Vespasian in Rome.” Mitteilungen des deutschen archäol-
ogischen Instituts. Römische Abteilung 97 (1990): 127–36.
Levick, Barbara. Vespasian. London: Routledge, 1999.
Mackie, Scott D. “Heavenly Sanctuary Mysticism in the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Journal
of Theological Studies 62 (2011): 77–117.
154 Maier
Maier, Harry O. Picturing Paul in Empire: Imperial Image, Text and Persuasion in Colos
sians, Ephesians and the Pastorals Epistles. London: Bloomsbury / T&T Clark, 2013.
Martin Lister, Martin, and Liz Well. “Seeing beyond Belief: Cultural Studies as an
Approach to Analyzing the Visual.” Pages 61–91 in Handbook of Visual Analysis.
Edited by Theo Van Leeuwen and Carey Jewett. London: Sage, 2001.
Mattingly, Harold. Coins of the Roman Empire in the British Museum. Vol. 2: Vespasian to
Domitian. London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1930.
Mitchell, William J. T. The Language of Images. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980.
———. Picture Theory: Essays on Verbal and Visual Representation. Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1994.
Morgan, David. The Sacred Gaze: Religious Visual Culture in Theory and Practice.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005.
Muir, Stephen, “The Anti-Imperial Rhetoric of Heb 1.3: χαρακτήρ as a ‘Double-Edged
Sword.’ ” Pages 170–86 in A Crowd of Witnesses: The Theology of Hebrews in its Ancient
Context. Edited by Richard Bauckham, Trevor Hart, Nathan MacDonald, and Daniel
Driver. New York: Continuum, 2008.
Mundt, Felix. “Rom als Bühne bei Cassius Dio, Herodian, und in der Historia Augusta.”
Pages 173–94 in Kommunikationsräume im kaiserzeitlichen Rom. Edited by Felix
Mundt. Topoi: Berlin Studies of the Ancient World 6. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2012.
Punt, Jeremy H. “The Letter to the Hebrews.” Pages 338–68 in Postcolonial Commentary
on the New Testament Writings. Edited by Ferdinand Segovia and R. S. Sugirtharajah.
New York: Continuum, 2007.
Rissi, Mathias. Die Theologie des Hebräerbriefs: Ihre Verankerung in der Situation
des Verfassers und seiner Leser. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen
Robbins, Vernon K. “Rhetography: A New Way of Seeing the Familiar Text.” Pages 81–106
in Words Well Spoken: George Kennedy’s Rhetoric of the New Testament. Edited by
C. Clifton Black and Duane F. Watson. Waco, Tex: Baylor University Press.
Rüpke, Jörg. Religion of the Romans. Translated by Richard Gordon. Cambridge: Polity
Press, 2007.
———. “Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian Innovations in the Concept of
Priesthood and their Repercussions in the Treatise ‘To the Hebrews.’ ” Revue de
l’histoire des religions 229 (2012): 5–30.
Small, Brian C. The Characterization of Jesus in the Book of Hebrews. Biblical
Walker, A. D. “Enargeia and the Spectator in Greek Historiography.” Transactions of the
American Philological Association 123 (1993): 353–77.
Webb, Ruth. Ekphrasis, Imagination, and Persuasion in Ancient Rhetorical Theory and
Practice. Farnham, UK, Burlington, Ver.: Ashgate, 2009.
Wengst, Klaus. Pax Romana and the Peace of Jesus Christ. Translated by John Bowden.
The God of Peace and His Victorious King:
Hebrews 13:20–21 in Its Roman Imperial Context
Jason A. Whitlark
Introduction
The author of Hebrews concludes his sermon with a prayer:
And may the God of peace who brought up from the dead by virtue of the
blood of the eternal covenant1 the great shepherd of the sheep, our Lord
Jesus, equip you with all good things so that you do his will as he works
in us what is pleasing before him through Jesus Christ to whom be glory
forever, amen. (13:20–21)2
The author has unpacked much of the dense and theologically rich language
of this prayer in the course of his sermon. In the preceding discourse he dem-
onstrates, for instance, that the divine empowerment for which he prays is
grounded upon the abiding, new-covenant, Melchizedekian ministry of the
exalted Son Jesus.3
1 Ἐν αἵματι διαθήκης αἰωνίου is difficult to translate. Does it modify the participle ἀναγαγών or the
main verb καταρτίσαι? Moreover, does the phrase convey a sense of causality, instrumentality,
or accompaniment? The prayer has two movements: (1) a confession of what God has done
in bringing Jesus up from the dead and (2) a request for God to work in the author and his
audience what is pleasing so that they may do his will. In his two-part prayer, the author
concludes each part with a reference to Jesus (“our Lord Jesus” / “Jesus Christ”). Because the
phrase in question is before the reference to “our Lord Jesus,” I presume that it should be
taken with the participle. Good sense can then be made out of the causal notion, namely, by
virtue of Christ’s obedience, even unto death, God brought him up from the dead (cf. Heb 5:7;
William L. Lane, Hebrews 9–13 [WBC 47B; Dallas: Thomas Nelson, 1991], 559, 563).
2 Unless otherwise specified, translations are my own.
3 I have linked this prayer for divine enablement to the cleansing of the conscience that
Jesus accomplishes according to Hebrews. See my chapter, “Fidelity and New Covenant
Enablement in Hebrews,” in Charles H. Talbert and Jason A. Whitlark, Getting “Saved”: The
Whole Story of Salvation in the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), 72–91. Cf.
Gareth Lee Cockerill, The Epistle to the Hebrews (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012),
714, 718; James Moffatt, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews
(ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1979), 243, where Moffatt notes the syntactical and conceptual
similarity between 9:14 (εἰς τὸ λατρεύειν θεῷ ζῶντι) and 13:21 (εἰς τὸ ποιῆσαι τὸ θέλημα αὐτοῦ).

156 Whitlark
Yet while this prayer is anchored in the discourse that comes before it, many
interpreters have also noted nomenclature in the opening lines of this prayer
that is not found elsewhere in the sermon, namely, “God of peace,” “great
shepherd,” “Lord Jesus,” and “brought up from the dead,” a reference to Jesus’s
resurrection.4 Of particular interest is the reference to peace. That descriptor
is not associated with God in the Septuagint, though it is common parlance in
Paul’s letters.5 With regard to the opening description of God as the God “of
peace,” scholars have proposed a range of interpretations. Some suggest that
peace is a comprehensive reference to eschatological salvation or to the salva-
tion of the whole person.6 Others propose that peace refers to a restored fellow-
ship with God through the forgiveness of sins and new obedience.7 Still others
see an implicit exhortation to promote community harmony that involves sub-
mission to the leaders of the community.8 James Moffatt provides an interest-
ing proposal that ties together the full description of God in v. 20. He suggests
that the opening description of God is a declaration of the secure prosperity
Also see 1 Thess 5:23 for a concluding prayer that similarly calls upon the “God of peace” to
enable his followers to live a life pleasing to him.
4 Paul uses similar language to speak about Jesus’s resurrection in Rom 10:7 (Χριστὸν ἐκ νεκρῶν
ἀναγαγεῖν). The author of Hebrews does use the more traditional verb for resurrection
(ἐγείρειν) in 11:19. For other references to resurrection in Hebrews, see 6:2 and 11:35, though
none of these explicitly refers to Jesus being raised from the dead. For further discussion of
resurrection in Hebrews, see David M. Moffitt, “ ‘If Another Priest Arises’: Jesus’ Resurrection
and the High Priestly Christology of Hebrews,” in A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology of
Hebrews in Its Ancient Contexts (ed. Richard Bauckham et al.; LNTS 387; London: T&T Clark,
2008), 68–79; Gareth L. Cockerill, “The Better Resurrection (Heb. 11:35): A Key to the Structure
and Rhetorical Purpose of Hebrews 11,” TynBul 51 (2000): 215–34.
5 Cf. Rom 15:33, 16:20; 1 Cor 14:33; 2 Cor 13:11; Phil 4:9; 1 Thess 5:23; 2 Thess 3:16 (“Lord of peace”).
Cf. Martin Karrer, Der Brief an die Hebräer: Kapitel 5, 11–13, 25 (ÖTKNT 20/2; Gütersloh:
Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2002), 373, where Karrer suggests that the author derived this
phrase from Paul’s Letter to the Romans.
6 Peter T. O’Brien, The Letter to the Hebrews (PINTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 533; Paul
Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Greek Text (NIGTC; Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 728.
7 Cockerill, Epistle to the Hebrews, 715; Craig R. Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation with
Introduction and Commentary (AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001), 579.
8 Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia;
Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 405; Lane, Hebrews 9–13, 560; Cockerill, Epistle to the Hebrews,
715; O’Brien, Letter to the Hebrews, 533.
The God Of Peace And His Victorious King 157
(peace; εἰρήνη) won by a messianic triumph of apocalyptic proportions (resur-

rection; ὁ ἀναγαγὼν ἐκ νεκρῶν) over hostile evil powers.9
In this chapter, I will expand on Moffatt’s insights by examining the
Roman imperial context of Hebrews. Particularly noteworthy in the author’s
full description of God in 13:20 is the juxtaposition of peace with notions of
victory—namely, Jesus’s exaltation, kingship, and the establishment of a
restored covenantal relationship with God. These two concepts, peace and vic-
tory, were frequently related in the Roman imperial context of the audience of
Hebrews. I will argue that the common logic of victory that brings forth peace
has shaped the benediction in Heb 13:20–21. This logic, as we will see, becomes
especially evident at the beginning of Hebrews, in chs. 1–2. Furthermore, the
declaration in 13:20 gives the members of the audience confidence that God
is able to equip them with and work in them all things necessary to accom-
plish his will—even in the face of a hostile imperial culture. This study will
also suggest that, for an audience likely suffering in Rome for their confession
of Jesus Christ, Heb 13:20 is a declaration that resists comparable claims by
Rome and its emperor by celebrating Jesus as the true, triumphant king and
peace-bringer.
The Roman Imperial Claim of Victory and Peace
Victory and peace were commonly associated in the Roman imperial milieu.
Rome boasted in the restoration of peace. Moreover, peace meant abundance
that had been restored through victory over destabilizing forces. This boast was
especially the case under Augustus and the Flavians who sought legitimacy for
their rule over the empire by their victories and peace. These three elements
of imperial peace, (1) abundance, (2) victory, and (3) legitimacy, are all aspects
of the Ara Pacis Augustae, commissioned by the Senate on Augustus’s return
from Gaul and Spain and dedicated in 9 bce.10 This altar will serve as the start-
ing point for our discussion of imperial peace and victory.
Peace and Abundance

Approaching the Ara Pacis Augustae, one encounters a striking panel that
depicts Pax, who is seated with two infants in her lap and with sacrificial
9 Moffatt, Critical and Exegetical Commentary, 242. Moffatt gives a limited analysis of the
Jewish background in support of his interpretation.
10 Cf. Res gest. divi Aug. 12.2.
158 Whitlark
livestock at her feet.11 She is surrounded by symbols of abundance. There are

the flowers of Spring, the grains of Summer, the fruits of Autumn, and the
sweet rush of Winter.12 Inside the altar, garlands are filled with seasonal fruits.13
To look at the altar is to see a fusion of seasons simultaneously bringing forth
the abundant blessings of Pax. Nancy Thomson de Grummond points out that
the panel with Pax on the Ara Pacis recalls Tibullus’s supplication to Pax:
Let Peace tend the fields. Shining Peace first led the steer to plow beneath
the curved yoke; Peace nourished the vines and stored the juices of the
grape so that a father’s jar might pour wine for his son. . . . Come, nurtur-
ing Peace! Hold out the ear of grain and may your shining lap pour forth
fruit. (Elegies 1.10.45–58, 67–68)14
The abundance displayed on the Ara Pacis would have called to mind the
restoration of a Golden Age, a time of abundance and fertility. In his Fourth
Eclogue, Virgil anticipates the restoration of a Golden Age under a renewed
alliance between Octavian and Antony, at which time “every land will bear
all fruits” (39 [Fairclough, LCL]). Moreover, Justice will return to earth at this
renewal of the ages. Virgil appears to associate the return of Justice with Virgo,
the constellation that presided over the Golden Age.15 As de Grummond has
argued, the depiction of Pax on the Ara Pacis might likewise have suggested to
onlookers the constellation Virgo and thus a return of the Golden Age under
Augustus.16
Roman coinage regularly depicted Pax with the cornucopia, the horn of
abundance.17 Again, the association is clear: the blessings of Pax were a world
11 Many insights raised here about the iconography of the Pax panel on the Ara Pacis are
drawn from Nancy Thomson de Grummond, “Pax Augusta and the Horae on the Ara Pacis
Augustae,” AJA 94 (1990): 663–77.
12 De Grummond, “Pax Augusta,” 672.
13 Cf. Paul Zanker, Roman Art (trans. Henry Heitmann-Gordon; Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty
Museum, 2008), 88–91; Nancy H. Ramage and Andrew Ramage, Roman Art: Romulus to
Constantine (New York: Abrams, 1991), 90–94; de Grummond, “Pax Augusta,” 672, 674.
14 The translation is taken from de Grummond, “Pax Augusta,” 668.
15 Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, “The Golden Age and Sin in Augustan Ideology,” P&P 95 (1982):
26. Cf. Germanicus, Aratae, 103–4, also cited by de Grummond, “Pax Augusta,” 673.
16 De Grummond, “Pax Augusta,” 672–73. De Grummond also points out that Pax is flanked
by the Horai, the goddesses of the seasons, who are seated on a swan and a sea monster.
Both animals are representatives of seasonal constellations.
17 Harold Mattingly and Edward Sydenham, The Roman Imperial Coinage, vol. 1: Augustus
to Vitellius (London: Spink and Son, 1923), 206 no. 65; 216 no. 163; 245 no. 6; 247 no. 38; 256
transformed so that it brought forth abundance. In such a world nothing rebel-

lious threatened peace-bringing imperial rule. Thus depictions of peace in the
Roman imperial context were often associated with depictions of victory.
Peace and Victory

Karl Galinsky writes of the iconographic project of the Ara Pacis that “the vari-
ous images on the altar’s decoration are to be viewed in conjunction with one
another.”18 Next to the panel of Pax amidst a world of abundance was a panel
depicting Roma seated upon confiscated armor and shields. She is apparently
resting after victory in battle. The juxtaposition of the two scenes represents
iconographically Augustus’s declaration in his Res gestae that “peace had been
achieved by victories on land and sea” (13).19 Likewise, one side of a coin from
68 ce portrays Roma seated upon weapons and armor, while on the reverse
is the legend PAX and images of poppies and grain, emblems of peace and
prosperity.20
Similar messages can be found on the statue of Augustus from Prima Porta.
At the top of the cuirass, Caelus, the sky god, holds up the heavenly firmament,
while just beneath Caelus, the sun god is depicted driving his chariot across
the sky.21 Under this image, in the middle of the cuirass, a “barbarian” returns
no. 186; 339 no. 7; 340 no. 12; 341 no. 21; 342 no. 22; 345 no. 44; 420 no. 616; 438 no. 769; 485
nos. 1092, 1094. Harold Mattingly and Edward Sydenham, The Roman Imperial Coinage,
vol. 2: Vespasian to Hadrian (London: Spink and Son, 1926), 64 no. 403; 65 no. 410; 69
nos. 435–37, 440; 76 nos. 515, 517; 78 no. 534; 80 no. 552; 81 no. 564; 82 no. 573; 84 no. 589; 86
no. 609; 93 no. 673; 96 no. 693; 99 no. 718; 102 no. 748; 106 no. 779; 125 no. 77; 127 no. 94; 135
no. 155; 140 no. 181; 210 nos. 444, 448.
18 Karl Galinsky, Augustan Culture: An Interpretive Introduction (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1996), 148.
19 Translation follows Alison E. Cooley, Res Gestae Divi Augusti: Text, Translation, and
Commentary (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 72. See also Cooley’s com-
mentary on p. 158. Galinsky (Augustan Culture, 141) sees a link between Augustus’s men-
tion of the Ara Pacis in Res gest. divi Aug. 12 and the mention of peace through victories
and the closing of the Temple of Janus in Res gest. divi Aug. 13. Cf. Ramage and Ramage,
Roman Art, 91. Two other factors associate the Ara Pacis Augustae with military victory.
First, the altar was built in the Campus Martius, which served, among other things, as the
military training and parade grounds for the Roman soldiers. Second, the altar was built
to celebrate Augustus’s successful campaigns in Spain and Gaul in place of a triumph
(cf. Dio, 54.23.7–8).
20 See de Grummond, “Pax Augusta,” 666–67, for both references to and a picture of the
coin.
21 For the identification of the images on the cuirass followed here, see Galinsky, Augustan
Culture, 156–60.
160 Whitlark
the Roman legionary standards to a Roman military figure, who is perhaps

even Mars Ultor himself. The barbarian is commonly identified as a Parthian.
In 20/19 bce, the Parthians returned the Roman legionary standards that
they had taken when they defeated the Roman legions of Crassus in 53 bce.22
Augustus celebrated the recovery of these standards under his leadership
as one of his many achievements, at which time they were deposited in the
Temple of Mars Ultor.23 The Parthian is flanked by barbarians possibly from
Spain and Gaul. Rome’s victory and domination over the barbarian threats
from the east and west is thus depicted on the central frame of the cuirass. At
the bottom of the cuirass, beneath this picture of the barbarian submitting to
Roman authority, there is an image of Tellus with symbols of abundance—the
cornucopia along with Tellus’s two children—while the grain ears that crown
Tellus were also worn by the goddess Pax.24 The images on the cuirass work
together to relate that the world ruled by Rome brings forth the abundance
of peace when the barbarian threat to that world is subjugated to Rome and
its emperor.25 Again images of victory and peace as abundance are brought
together in this instance on the cuirass of the statue of Augustus from Prima
Porta.
This identification of victory and peace continued in the monumental
architecture of the Flavian period. In 75 ce the Temple of Peace was dedicated,
built from the spoils of the Jewish War. Vessels from the Jerusalem temple,
which had been destroyed by the Roman army, were displayed in the Temple
of Peace as a constant reminder of the foundation upon which peace had
22 This event was also commemorated on the Parthian Arch in the Roman Forum and regu-
larly celebrated on the feast day of Mars Ultor (cf. Ovid, Fasti 5.579–96, esp. 585–86). Cf.
Galinsky, Augustan Culture, 156–57.
23 See Res gest. divi Aug. 29.2. Christopher Simpson challenges the consensus that Parthian is
depicted on the cuirass. He argues that this scene possibly represents the recovery of the
Roman military standards among the barbarians in Spain, Gaul, and Dalmatia or among
all barbarians by Augustus in the east (Spain, Gaul, Dalmatia) and west (Parthia). It is
precisely the recovery of all the standards from Spain, Gaul, Dalmatia, and Parthia that
Augustus celebrates among his achievements in Res gest. divi Aug. 29. Simpson believes
that, if the barbarian is not assumed to be a Parthian, then the statue was likely commis-
sioned either around the time of the dedication of the Ara Pacis or possibly around the
time of Augustus’s death. See Christopher J. Simpson, “Where is the Parthian? The Prima
Porta Statue of Augustus Revisited,” Latomus 64 (2005): 82–90.
24 Galinsky, Augustan Culture, 160.
been established.26 Such victory was touted as restoring order to the world.
Some coins from this period carried the legend VICTORIA AUGUSTI and
depicted winged Victory who fixes a shield to a palm tree (the Flavian symbol
for Judea) with the inscription OB CIVES SER(VATOS), “for the salvation of
the citizens.”27 By implication, the uprising in Judea against Roman imperium
was presented as a barbarian threat to the civilized world.28 Thus the coin cel-
ebrates Roman victory, which preserves the civilized order and brings peace.
Interestingly, the Temple of Peace also promoted art and rhetoric, because
apparently the large temple area served as a public gallery for world art and as
a space for libraries. Such were the pleasures of life that Pax bestowed on the
world as a result of indomitable Roman rule.29
The victorious peace of Roman rule was also a manifestation of a larger
cosmic drama—Gigantomachy. In Roman (and Greek) mythology, Jupiter
defeats the tyrannical Giants, and from that victory “peace, order, and prosper-
ity flowed.”30 In his encomium of Rome, Aelius Aristides employs the myth of
Gigantomachy to praise Rome’s order-restoring mission of peace to the world:
Before the rule of Zeus, as the poets say, the universe was full of strife,
confusion and disorder, but the Titans, forced back by Zeus and the gods
who supported him, departed to the lowest caverns of the earth. Thus
one who reflects about the world before your time and about the condi-
tion of affairs in your period would come to the opinion that before your
26 Cf. Josephus, B. J. 7.158–62; Pliny, Nat. 34.84; 36.58. Josephus records that Vespasian took
the copy of the Law and the purple curtains from the Jerusalem temple to his palace.
27 For an illustration of this image, see Philip Esler, “God’s Honour and Rome’s Triumph:
Responses to the Fall of Jerusalem in 70 ce in Three Jewish Apocalypses,” in Modeling
Early Christianity: Social-Scientific Studies of the New Testament in Its Context (ed. Philip
Esler; New York: Routledge, 1995), 254.
28 Jane Cody (“Conquerors and Conquered on Flavian Coins,” in Flavian Rome: Culture,
Image, Text [ed. A. J. Boyle and W. J. Dominik; Leiden: Brill, 2003], 109–10) points out that
the dress and pose of Judean figures on coins from the time of Pompey onward presented
them as barbarians. Consequently, the Jewish rebels were seen to occupy the fringes of
the empire that needed to be subjugated by Roman rule even though Judea had been a
province under Roman rule for some time.
29 Cf. Fergus Millar, “Last Year in Jerusalem: Monuments of the Jewish War in Rome,”
in Flavius Josephus and Flavian Rome (ed. Jonathan Edmondson et al.; Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2005), 109–10; Robin H. Darwall-Smith, Emperors and Architecture:
A Study of Flavian Rome (Collection Latomus 231; Brussels: Latomus, 1996), 55–68.
30 J. Rufus Fears, “The Cult of Jupiter and Roman Imperial Ideology,” ANRW 17.1:47. See also
Philip Hardie, Virgil’s Aeneid: Cosmos and Imperium (Oxford: Clarendon, 1986), 85–156.
162 Whitlark
empire there had been confusion everywhere and things were taking a
random course, but when you assumed the presidency, confusion and
strife ceased, and universal order entered as a brilliant light over the pri-
vate and public affairs of man, laws appeared and altars of gods received
man’s confidence.31
When Domitian erected his victory arch in Cumae, he had it built at the
entrance to Phlegra, where Jupiter allegedly did battle with the Giants and
Typhoeus.32 Rufus Fears concludes that Gigantomachy becomes the archetype
of the imperial mission. Victory, then, “was elevated above the idea of mere
conquest; it was rather a creative act, the indispensable element in the inaugu-
ration of a new era of peace and prosperity.”33
Victorious Peace and Legitimation

Just as Jupiter’s victory over the Giants legitimated his sovereignty over the
cosmos, so also did the emperor’s peace-bringing victory over the destabilizing
forces of civil war and barbarian threats legitimate his rule over the world.34 In
the Roman imperial context, victory and peace validated hegemonic author-
ity in the absence of traditional institutions because victory was a manifesta-
tion of divine approval of the victor.35 Both Augustus and the Flavians would
emphasize their peace-securing victories that sanctioned their authority to
rule the empire.36
31 The translation of the Greek text of Aristides’s encomium is by James H. Oliver, “The
Ruling Power: A Study of the Roman Empire in the Second Century after Christ through
the Roman Oration of Aelius Aristides,” TAPA 43/4 (1953): 906. Images of Gigantomachy
appear frequently on the Roman coinage from 144–100 bce during the Cetiberian and
Gailic wars. According to Fears (“Cult of Jupiter,” 47), “Peace, order, and prosperity flowed
from Jupiter’s victory over the giants. The same result, the coins would say, marked the
triumph of Roman arms.”
32 Fears, “Cult of Jupiter,” 79–80.
33 J. Rufus Fears, “Theology of Victory at Rome: Approaches and Problems,” ANRW 17.2:806;
see also 817, 819–21; idem, “Cult of Jupiter,” 79, 89.
34 Horace writes that Jupiter “in the glory of his triumph over the Giants moves the whole
universe with the nod of his brow” (Carm. 3.1.5–8 [Rudd, LCL]). Cf. Eusebius, Vit. Const.
1.5.1.
35 Fears, “Theology of Victory,” 736–826.
36 Martin P. Charlesworth (“Pietas and Victoria: The Emperor and the Citizen,” JRS 33 [1943]:
3–4) argues that, for the average Roman citizen, “the emperor must be a conqueror, a
victor, a propagator imperii.”
If we return to the iconography and monuments previously discussed, we

can see the centrality of a victorious Augustus as the divinely authenticated
restorer of peace and abundance. For instance, on the reliefs down one side
of the Ara Pacis, a pious Augustus is seen leading the procession of priests
and the imperial family to sacrifice. Augustus is thus perpetually maintaining
the peace that he established through divinely granted victory. Moreover, the
Ara Pacis was part of a large sundial, the shadow of whose obelisk pointed
to the altar’s center on Augustus’s birthday, and fixed atop the obelisk, just
beneath its point, was a globe. The whole complex celebrated a triumphant
ruler born for world peace.37 Additionally, as we have seen, the cuirass on the
Prima Porta statue depicted victorious Roman rule over barbarian threats.
Significantly, that depiction appeared on a statue of the immortal Augustus.
Augustus likely held a spear, a symbol of conquest that was associated with the
statuary of Hellenistic rulers and, above all, the world conqueror Alexander
the Great.38 Created near the end of Augustus’s reign, the so-called Gemma
Augustea depicts a semi-nude Augustus as Jupiter’s vice-regent (signified by
an eagle that perches beneath Augustus), who sits enthroned next to Roma.39
He is being crowned by Oikoumene with the corona civica (signifying salvation
for the world) because under his auspices (signified by Augustus holding the
lituus in his right hand) Tiberius has conquered the barbarian threat (depicted
in the lower reliefs) and presents himself before Augustus as he steps off his
chariot that is driven by Victoria.40 Again, victory, salvation, and peace pointed
to Augustus as the legitimately enthroned, god-chosen world ruler.
The legitimating importance of peace-restoring victory for Augustus can be
demonstrated as well from the Res gestae divi Augusti. As the Latin heading of
the Res gestae indicates, it is precisely Augustus’s achievements that subjected
the world to Roman rule that are celebrated. Augustus opens his list of accom-
plishments with his victories. These victories then legitimated his honors and
offices (1–4).41 Moreover, Augustus recounts toward the end of the Res gestae
that, among the honors bestowed upon him by the Senate, were the laurel
37 Cf. Galinsky, Augustan Culture, 146. The sundial was also centered on Capricorn, the day
of the conception of Augustus.
39 Cf. Horace, who writes, “Because Jove thunders in heaven we have always believed that he
is king there; Augustus will be deemed god on earth when the Britons and deadly Persians
have been added to our empire” (Carm. 3.5.1–4 [Rudd, LCL]).
40 For a description of the iconography on the Gemma Augustea, see Ramage and Ramage,
Roman Art, 106–7; Galinksy, Augustan Culture, 120–21; and Fears, “Cult of Jupiter,” 58.
41 Cf. Fears, “Theology of Victory,” 805–6.
164 Whitlark
trees planted in front of his door posts and the oak wreath (corona civica) hung
from the doorway (34.2).42 Such honors signified, as Dio writes, that Augustus
was “always victor over his enemies and savior of the citizens” (53.16.4 [Cary,
LCL]). Augustus also emphasized that his victories brought life-giving peace
by boasting that the doors to the Temple of Janus were shut on three occasions
during his rule (Res gest. divi Aug. 13). Thus, Horace lauds the blessings of peace
that were brought about by Augustus’s victories:43
Your age, Caesar, has brought back rich harvests to the fields, and restored
to our Jove the standards torn down from the proud door posts of the
Parthians; it has closed the temple of Janus Quirinus, now empty of war;
it has closed a bridle on license which was straying beyond the proper
limits, removed sin, and revived the ancient arts by which the name
Latium, the power of Italy, and the prestige and majesty of the Empire
were extended from the sun’s western bed to his rising. (Carm. 5.15.4–16
[Rudd, LCL])
Elsewhere, Horace proclaims, “Neither civil strife nor death by violence will
I fear, while Caesar holds the earth” (Carm. 3.14.14–16 [Bennett, LCL]).
Almost sixty years later the Flavians would look back to the Augustan model
in order to legitimate their rule over the empire, since they could not claim
familial ties to Augustus. They therefore made their victory in the Jewish War
central. Victoria appears ubiquitously on Flavian coinage.44 On some of these
coins Victoria hands the palladium to Vespasian with the legend AETERNITAS
P.R.S.C.45 On other coins, Roma extends Victoria in her right hand, bestow-
ing the felicitas of victory upon the emperor.46 Jane Cody also notes that the
barbarian capta-type coins, which celebrate Roman victory over barbarian
threats, reappear after Augustus in the first year of Vespasian’s rule to memo-
rialize Roman triumph over the Judean uprising.47 Furthermore, the celebra-
tion of Flavian victory would alter the Roman cityscape. The Flavians built the
42 For commentary on this text see Cooley, Res Gestae, 262–66.
43 Pliny likewise spends a significant part of his panegyric praising Trajan for the abundance
and fertility that his rule has brought to the world. See Pan. 29.1–33.1.
44 A glance at the index in Harold Mattingly, Coins of the Roman Empire in the British
Museum, vol. 2: Vespasian to Domitian (London: Published by the Trustees of the British
Museum, 1923), 451–52, demonstrates the ubiquity of victory on Flavian coinage.
45 Mattingly, Coins of the Roman Empire, 2:126 no. 586; 191 no. 786; 194 no. 793; 198 no. 805;
111 n*.
46 Mattingly, Coins of the Roman Empire, 2:111 no. 526; 295 no. 316.
47 Cody, “Conquerors and Conquered,” 106–7.
Temple of Peace, two triumphal arches, and the Coliseum and restored the
Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, all ongoing reminders of the legitimating
victory and abundance secured by the Flavian rulers.
The final victory of a Roman emperor was his apotheosis—his victory over
death. The emperor who brought victory and peace through his labors upon
earth took his place among the gods, where he continued to bestow his ben-
efits upon the world. Hercules provided the archetype.48 Hercules’s philan-
thropic labors on behalf of humanity bore him to the stars and the gods.49 The
immortalized Hercules then continued to live to aid those who call upon him.
Seneca concluded his play Hercules Otaeus with a supplication to the divinized
Hercules:
But do thou, O mighty conqueror of beasts, peace-bringer to the world,

be with us yet; still as of old regard this earth of ours; and if some strange-
visaged monster cause us with dire fear to tremble, do thou o’ercome him
with forked thunderbolts—yea, more mightily than thy father’s self the
thunders hurl. (1989–96 [Miller, LCL])
Dio Chrysostom declared that Hercules carries on his efforts to bring peace to
the world as Trajan’s companion and aid (Or. 1.84). The emperor’s apotheosis,
like that of Hercules, signaled that he had conquered death and lived on to
secure the fruits of his labors and to preserve the social order. It is likely that
Augustus first published his Res gestae on his mausoleum as justification for
his deification.50 Augustus’s mausoleum was as part of the overall design with
the Ara Pacis and sundial on the Campus Martius. The association emphasized
that the achievements of victory and peace, which Augustus celebrated in the
Res gestae and in the iconography of the Ara Pacis, will continue in his aid
from heaven.51 The Arch of Titus on the Via Sacra seems to convey a similar
message. At the apex of the ceiling of the arch is a depiction of the apotheosis
48 Dio Chrysostom makes Hercules the example of an ideal king (Or. 1.49–84). Cf. Karl
Galinsky, The Herakles Theme: The Adaptations of the Hero in Literature from Homer to
the Twentieth Century (Totowa: Rowman & Littlefield, 1972), 117; Emma Stafford, Herakles
(Gods and Heroes in the Ancient World; New York: Routledge, 2012), 137–56; J. Rufus Fears,
“Herculanensium Augustalium Aedes and the Theology of the Ruler Cult,” in Proceedings
of the XVth International Congress of Classical Archaeology, Amsterdam, July 12–17,
1998: Classical Archaeology towards the Third Millennium: Reflections and Perspectives
(ed. Roald F. Docter and Eric M. Moorman; Amsterdam: Allard Pierson Museum, 1999), 1:168.
49 Cf. Seneca, Herc. Ot. 1942–43.
50 Cooley, Res Gestae, 41.
51 Cf. Galinsky, Augustan Culture, 146.
166 Whitlark
of Titus, who looks down while ascending on an eagle. On the two side panels
are images of Titus’s triumph celebrated in 71 ce for his victory over the
Judean uprising. The combination of these reliefs ties together victory and
deification.52 Images of victory often accompanied the celebration of the
emperor’s apotheosis.53
Because victory and peace were evidence of divine legitimation for
the Roman emperor under whose auspices they occurred (cf. Res gest. divi
Aug. 4.2),54 that Roman emperor could claim a restored pax deorum through
his rule.55 This restored quasi-legal covenant or pact with the gods undergirded
Roman rule and was maintained by Roman pietas.56 For this reason, Horace
laments the evidence of previous impiety in Rome. He writes,
Thy father’s sins, O Roman, though guiltless shall expiate, till thou doest
restore the crumbling temples and shrines of the gods and their statues
soiled with gritty smoke. Tis by holding thyself the servants of the gods
that thou doest rule. (Carm. 3.6.1–5 [Bennett, LCL])
Elsewhere, Horace asks, “To whom will Jupiter assign the task of expiating our
crime?” (Carm. 1.2.29–30 [Rudd, LCL]), and points to Augustus as the one who
is divinely chosen to repair a fractured empire and to restore a broken pax
deorum (41–52).57 It is not surprising that, among his achievements, Augustus
claims to have built or restored eighty-two temples in all (Res gest. divi
Aug. 19–21). Fittingly, on the iconography of the Ara Pacis, he leads the proces-
sion to sacrifice, hooded and wearing the toga.58
52 Cf. Mary Beard, Roman Triumph (Cambridge: Belknap, 2007), 237–38.
53 Fears, “Theology of Victory,” 819.
54 Cf. Cooley, Res Gestae, 124; Fears, “Theology of Victory,” 802–4, 810.
55 Cf. J. Rufus Fears, “The Cult of Virtues and Roman Imperial Ideology,” ANRW 17.2:886. The
phrase pax deroum occurs in Livy’s Ab urbe condita in 3.8.1; 4.30.10; 6.1.12; and 7.2.2. See
27.23.4, where the consuls were responsible for inviting or securing the peace of the gods.
Pliny writes that Trajan has formed a pact with the gods (pacisceris cum dis, Pan. 67.7).
Also see Eusebius, Vit. Const. 1.44.2 (τὰ τῆς εἰρήνης τοῦ θεοῦ).
56 It was a Roman commonplace to acknowledge that world rule was a reward for their supe-
rior piety. Cf. Cicero, Nat. d. 2.8; Har. resp. 19; Livy, Ab urbe condita 6.41.8; 44.1.11; Horace,
Carm. 3.6.5; Virgil, Aen. 12.838–40; Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Ant. Rom. 2.72; Polybius
6.56.6–8; Tertullian, Ap. 25.2–3.
57 Cf. Virgil, Georg. 1.500–2; Wallace-Hadrill, “Sin and the Golden Age,” 24–25; J. H. W. G.
Liebeschuetz, Continuity and Change in Roman Religion (Oxford: Clarendon, 1979),
56–58, 62.
58 Cf. Paul Zanker, The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus (trans. Alan Shapiro; Jerome
Lectures 16; Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1988), 102–10, for a more detailed
Summary
In the Roman imperial context of the audience of Hebrews, victory and peace
were regularly related. Victory established the conditions for peace. Peace was
also more than the vanquishing of civil strife and barbarian threats. It repre-
sented a cosmic order and a creative act. It signified a world brought to abun-
dance and restored to harmony with the gods. Moreover, the Roman emperor
served as the linchpin for this new order. His enthronement and eventual
apotheosis were legitimated by his peace-restoring victories that were indica-
tive of both his virtus and felicitas.59 Through him, the favor of the gods was
secured. He was, as Fears writes, “a savior who has brought mankind to an
earthly paradise.”60
Hebrews 13:20–21 in Its Roman Imperial Context
In view of the background discussed above, how would members of the audi-
ence of Hebrews—whom I take to have lived in Rome during the latter half of
the first-century61—have heard the concluding benediction, in 13:20–21? I pro-
pose that they would have heard the divine grant of victory on an apocalyptic
scale, the legitimation of a king, and hope for peace and abundance along with
assurance that those things that threatened their hope would be overcome. We
will consider these themes in order.
The Divine Grant of Victory

The audience could not have missed the theme of the divine grant of victory
in the declaration of Jesus’s resurrection: “God . . . who brought up from the
dead . . . our Lord Jesus.” Jesus’s victory is his resurrection from the dead by
God. Paul especially understood Jesus’s resurrection to immortal life as victory
over death (cf. 1 Cor. 15:54–57). Likewise, the author of Hebrews records that
Jesus has triumphed over death by his resurrection and has been promoted to
discussion of the temple building and restoration projects of Augustan era as an expres-
sion of pietas. After 33 bce only Augustus and the members of his family built temples
in Rome, thus emphasizing his religious significance as the one who mediated the pax
deorum. See also Mary Beard, John North, and Simon Price, Religions of Rome: A History
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 1:196–97.
59 Cf. Fears, “Theology of Victory,” 780; Cicero, Fin. 4.22.
60 Fears, “Theology of Victory,” 812.
61 I discuss my reasons for this assumption more fully in Resisting Empire: Rethinking the
Purpose of the Letter to “the Hebrews” (LNTS 484; London: T&T Clark, 2014), 4–16.
168 Whitlark
God’s presence, where he lives forever (cf. 7:15–16, 23–25).62 As we have already
seen, the apotheosis of the emperor was also celebrated with emblems and
messages of victory.63
Moreover, the extent of this victory is apocalyptic.64 The author of Hebrews
has previously articulated the apocalyptic scope of Jesus’s resurrection and
exaltation. At the conclusion of ch. 1, the author quotes Ps 110:1, which declares
that God will make the enemies of the enthroned and exalted Son “a foot-
stool for your feet.” Notions of Jesus’s victory pervade ch. 2. First, according to
Heb 2:8–9, in the coming world, where Jesus is enthroned, there is “nothing
left rebellious to him” because he has triumphed and will triumph over his
enemies. Second, Heb 2:14 relates Jesus’s victory over “the one who holds the
power death, namely, the devil” (2:14). Jesus’s resurrection (made explicit in the
closing prayer but implied by the statement that he went “through death” in
ch. 2 and by the previous declaration of his exaltation to God’s right hand in
ch. 1) announces the devil’s defeat and breaks his power.65 In this victory, Jesus
also delivers the community from the fear of death, a fear that is used by the
devil to coerce the community’s loyalty to the earthly power he stands behind
(v. 15).
Additionally, the portrayal of Jesus’s victory in Heb 2:14–15 has features in
common with the heroic portrayal of Hercules, especially his toils involving his
62 See n. 3, especially Moffitt. Cf. Karrer, Der Brief an die Hebräer, 2:84–85; Koester, Hebrews,
355; Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (NTL; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster
John Knox, 2006), 187; O’Brien, Letter to the Hebrews, 264.
63 Additionally, just as the emperor’s victories, including his apotheosis, were a manifesta-
tion of his virtus and pietas so also Jesus’s resurrection was a vindication of his faithful
obedience even unto death. God bought Jesus up from the dead “by virtue of the blood of
the eternal covenant.” Elsewhere, the author of Hebrews writes that Jesus was delivered
from death “because of his piety” (5:7; ἀπὸ τῆς εὐλαβείας), i.e., because of his obedience to
God even unto death.
64 By “apocalyptic” I mean a perspective that is informed by revelation, namely, that God will
bring an imminent end to the ongoing struggle between good and evil in history, includ-
ing the transcendence of death for the elect. Moreover, that struggle is also defined by an
unseen, supernatural world whose agents (e.g., angels and demons) are active in history.
This perspective is also meant to shape the actions of the community (which is typically
in crisis) in the present. Cf. John J. Collins, “Introduction to Volume 1,” in The Encyclopedia
of Apocalypticism, vol. 1: The Origins of Apocalypticism in Judaism and Christianity
(ed. John J. Collins; New York: Continuum, 1999), xiii. See also David N. Scholer, “ ‘The
God of Peace Will Shortly Crush Satan under Your Feet’ (Romans 16:20a): The Function of
Apocalyptic Eschatology in Paul,” Ex Auditu 6 (1990): 53–55.
65 Cf. 2 Tim 1:10.
conquests over hades, death, and the gods of the underworld.66 For instance,
in Seneca’s Hercules furens, Hercules declares, after he returns from the under-
world, where he has subdued the gods of the underworld, that he could reign in
the realm of hades if it pleased him (cf. 592–615, 889–90). Moreover, Hercules’s
conquest of hades is cosmic in scope: it banishes all fear and now “peace reigns
by the hand of Hercules from the land of dawn to the evening star” (Herc. fur.
882 [Miller, LCL]). Hercules eventually announces his final victory over death
in his apotheosis when he declares, “Alcides once again conquers hell” (Herc.
Oet. 1976–96 [Miller, LCL]). Thus, at his father’s side Hercules will continue
to subdue threats to the world order that he helped to establish. In light of
this heroic motif (which served as the pattern for the Roman emperor’s own
apotheosis), we can understand how Jesus’s experience of death (i.e., “through
death”) can be viewed as a conquest of the devil, because Jesus through his
conflict with “the one who holds the power of death” has been triumphantly
“led up from the dead” (Heb 13:20) with an indestructible life and exalted to
God’s presence, where he now reigns and aids his followers. The “one who
holds the power of death” no longer has power over the exalted Jesus.
When read in light of Heb 2:14–15, the opening statement of the benediction
presupposes a conflict with evil powers that test the community’s faithfulness
with fearsome threats of death.67 It is likely that in the elliptical statement,
“one who holds the power of death,” the author takes aim at Roman imperium,
which was supremely demonstrated through putting to death those who posed
threats to its rule and majesty. Thus, according to the author, the devil stands
behind death-dealing Roman imperium, which executed Jesus and continues
to threaten his followers but has been broken by Jesus’s exaltation.68 Fittingly,
in his closing prayer the author returns to Jesus’s apocalyptic triumph over
death and demonic power demonstrated by Jesus’s own apotheosis.
66 The heroic, herculean aspects of the depiction of Jesus in Heb 2:14–15 have been ably
argued by David Aune, “Heracles and Christ: Heracles Imagery in the Christology of Early
Christianity,” in Greeks, Romans, and Christians: Essays in Honors of Abraham J. Malherbe
(ed. David L. Balch et al.; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990), 3–19, and Harold W. Attridge,
“Liberating Death’s Captives: Reconsideration of an Early Christian Myth,” in Gnosticism
and the Early Christian World: In Honor of James M. Robinson (ed. James E. Goehring et al.;
Sonoma: Polebridge, 1990), 103–15. For an earlier treatment of these parallels, see Wilfred
L. Knox, “The ‘Divine Hero’ Christology in the New Testament,” HTR 41 (1948): 229–49.
67 Cf. Moffatt, Critical and Exegetical Commentary, 242.
68 For further discussion of this point see Whitlark, Resisting Empire, 122–41.
170 Whitlark
The Legitimation of a King

As the closing prayer implies, Jesus’s resurrection (i.e., his victory over death
and the devil) led to his enthronement as cosmic king.69 We have seen that in
the imperial context of Hebrews, victory was interpreted as divine legitimation
of a ruler. Victory was central to the propaganda of Augustus and the Flavians.
Their victories promoted them to recognized rulers of Rome’s world empire
and eventually to life among the gods in heaven.
Jesus’s promotion to cosmic king via his victorious resurrection is indicated
in two ways in the closing prayer. First, the author of Hebrews uses the term
ἀνάγω (brought up) in 13:20 to speak about Jesus’s resurrection. This term was
used in connection with advancement to positions of honor—in this case,
Jesus’s advancement to cosmic king.70 Second, the author applies honorific
and kingly titles to Jesus based upon his enthronement. The author calls him
“Lord” in the benediction, an honorific titled used by early Christians in con-
nection with Jesus’s resurrected and exalted status.71 It was not unusual for one
who acquired such an exalted status also to acquire a new name. For example,
Octavius was given the new name Augustus to reflect his status and achieve-
ments. Romulus, upon his apotheosis, acquired the name Quirinus, indicative
of his new divine status, according to which he was honored and worshiped.72
Κύριος as well could imply sovereignty, such as when it was applied to the
Roman emperor, who was acclaimed to be “lord of all.”73 The author also calls
Jesus the great shepherd of the sheep. In both pagan and Jewish contexts, shep-
herd was a common metaphor for king or ruler. Philo writes that poets were
accustomed to call kings the “shepherds of the people” (Ios. 1.2).74 Xenophon
writes that “the duties of a good king and a good shepherd are very much alike”
(Cyr. 8.2.14 [Miller, LCL]).75 The Messiah was also identified as the shepherd
of God’s people.76 In the benediction, the author recalls Jesus not as the great
high priest but as the great shepherd, in order to emphasize Jesus’s kingly
status, which has been legitimated by his resurrection, that is, his victory over
death and the devil.
69 Cf. Acts 2:32–36.

70 Cf. Plutarch, Num. 16.4. Cited in Johnson, Hebrews, 355; also see Attridge, Hebrews, 406.
71 Cf. Rom 4:24; 10:9; 1 Cor 12:3; Phil 2:9–11; Acts 2:32–36; cf. O’Brien, Letter to the Hebrews, 534.
72 Cf. Plutarch, Rom. 28.2.
73 Epictetus, Diatr. 4.1.12; cf. Suetonius, Dom. 13.2; Philo, Legat. 286, 356; Acts 25:26. See also
Judith 6:4 for its application to Nebuchadnezzar as “lord of the whole earth.”
74 Cf. Legat. 1.44; Mos. 1.60.
75 Cf. Homer, Il. 2.75–109; Od. 3.156; Epictetus, Diatr. 3.22.35; Dio Chrysostom, Or. 2.6; 3.41;
4.45.
76 Ezek 34:23–24; Mic 5:2–4; Pss. Sol. 17:21–40; cf. 2 Sam 5:2.
Jesus’s promotion to cosmic king connects back to beginning of the dis-

course. In Heb 1:3–13, the author celebrates the enthronement of Jesus as the
Son, who sat down at the right hand of God and whose enemies have been sub-
jected to him.77 Again, Jesus’s enthronement in ch. 1 assumes his conquest of
the devil and the nullification of the devil’s power of death discussed in ch. 2.
Thus there is no rebellious power that can ultimately oppose Jesus’s rule in this
world or the world to come (cf. 2:8). Jesus’s universal kingship is thereby legiti-
mated for the audience of Hebrews. On this basis, the author is able to offer
hope to his audience—that is, the enthroned Jesus is able to usher his follow-
ers into a coming age of abundance or, in other words, into peace (cf. 2:5–10).78
The Hope of Peace and Abundance

When the audience of Hebrews heard the term “peace” (13:20) alongside
notions of victory, enthronement, and covenant, they would have associated
that term not only with the defeat of rebellious and threatening forces but also
with the abundance and prosperity resulting from such a victory. Victory is a
creative act. As we have seen, this idea of peace is abundantly present in the
Roman imperial context, and residents of Rome would have been reminded of
it every time they walked past the Ara Pacis Augustae. The audience’s expecta-
tion was that, if Jesus was the true victorious king, then he would usher in a
restored relationship with God and hope for a new age. In his preceding dis-
course, the author of Hebrews has taken great care to emphasize that Jesus’s
exaltation inaugurated a new (or eternal) covenant (cf. 7:15–16, 22; 8:6–13;
12:24). In that covenant, there has been purification from sins (cf. 1:3) and the
purification of the conscience, so that the audience can boldly approach God
for help (cf. 4:14–16; 9:14; 10:19–22).
In ch. 2 the author has also emphasized the idea of a world of harmony
and abundance that Jesus’s kingship will bring forth. The author speaks of the
world to come, into which Jesus has already entered and in which he has been
crowned with glory and honor. This world is the destination of the community
77 Cf. L. D. Hurst, “The Christology of Hebrews 1 and 2,” in The Glory of Christ in the New
Testament: Studies in Christology in Memory of George Bradford Caird (ed. L. D. Hurst and
N. T. Wright; Oxford; Clarendon, 1987): 151–64; Kenneth Schenck, “A Celebration of the
Enthroned Son: The Catena of Hebrews 1,” JBL 120 (2001): 469–85; Ardel B. Caneday, “The
Eschatological World Already Subjected to the Son,” in A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology
of Hebrews in Its Ancient Context (ed. Richard Bauckham et al.; LNTS 387; London: T&T
Clark, 2008), 28–39.
78 Pliny similarly writes of Trajan, “We have celebrated . . . the day of your accession
whereby you preserved the Empire” along with its “security and happiness” (Pan. 10.52
[Radice, LCL]).
172 Whitlark
(v. 5). It is the world celebrated in Psalm 8 (as interpreted by the author), where
the community will also be crowned with glory and honor (vv. 6–9). It is also
the place of the heavenly Jerusalem, where God’s people gather with the angels
in joyful assembly (Heb 12:22–23). It is, then, the place of immortal life in God’s
presence.79 This coming world, however, is not the present experience of
the audience. They are still suffering under the imperial power of Rome.80 The
coming world is the eschatological hope of the community who must remain
confident that their “great shepherd” can lead them there. Because of Jesus’s
victory over the death-dealing powers that threaten the community’s fidel-
ity, the audience can be assured that God is able to equip them and to work
in them all that they need to experience the abundance God promises in the
coming world through his Son Jesus.
Summary
In sum, in the concluding prayer of Hebrews, the author announces Jesus’s cos-
mic victory over death and the devil and his ensuing enthronement, through
which God will bring about a coming world of abundance and harmony for the
beleaguered community. Moreover, Jesus’s victory inaugurates a new covenant,
a restored relationship with God that effectively deals with sin and equips the
members of the community to triumph over threats to their fidelity so that
they may share in Jesus’s reign in the world to come.81
79 Cf. Jason A. Whitlark, “Cosmology and the Perfection of Humanity in Hebrews,” in
Interpretation and the Claims of the Text: Resourcing New Testament Theology (Waco, Tex.:
Baylor University Press, 2014), 117–30.
80 For further discussion of this statement see Whitlark, Resisting Empire, 49–76.
81 It is worth noting here that 2 Bar. 73.1–2 conveys a similarly compressed description of the
Messiah as Heb 13:20 does of Jesus. The author writes: “And it will happen that after he
[the Messiah] has brought down everything which is in the world, and has sat down in
eternal peace on the throne of the kingdom, the joy will be revealed and rest will appear.
And then health will descend in dew, and illness will vanish, and fear and tribulation and
lamentation will pass away from among men, and joy will encompass the earth.” As we
have already seen, the drama that is conveyed here is conventional: victory of the Messiah
leads to and legitimates his enthronement resulting in celebratory abundance and har-
mony in the world. The translation follows A. F. J. Klijn, “2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch,”
OTP 1:645.
Conclusion
As Moffatt proposed in his commentary on Heb 13:20, we can conclude from

the consideration of the imperial context that the audience of Hebrews
would have likely heard in the benedictory prayer that divine prosperity was
secured by the messianic triumph of apocalyptic proportions over hostile
evil powers. This chapter’s consideration of the imperial context of the audi-
ence of Hebrews also highlights two further implications. First, the close the-
matic connections between the closing prayer and the preceding discourse
of Hebrews point to the integrity of ch. 13 and Heb 1–12.82 The themes of the
Son’s enthronement, victory, and eschatological blessings that pervade chs. 1
and 2 of Hebrews are eloquently and succinctly articulated in 13:20. Moreover,
the divine enablement through Jesus’s new covenant, priestly ministry, which
proceeds on the basis of his enthronement and is articulated especially in
chs. 7–10 of Hebrews, serves as the foundation of the author’s petition for
equipping and inward working in 13:21.
Second, the cosmic victory of Jesus over death and the devil is clearly
antagonistic to the audience’s imperial context. Roman emperors, especially
Augustus and the Flavians in the first century, found their legitimacy to rule
in their victories and in their peace. This legitimation was interpreted as evi-
dence of divine approval. Additionally, Augustus, Titus, and Domitian pro-
moted the cults of their divinized family members.83 Such identification with
divinized family members enhanced their own status as world rulers. In his
82 Koester (Hebrews, 554) writes, “the strength of this section comes . . . from a creative
fusion of themes and images from earlier portions of the speech.” More recently,
A. J. M. Wedderburn (“The ‘Letter’ to the Hebrews and Its Thirteenth Chapter,” NTS 50
[2004]: 390–405) has argued that ch. 13 was written by a different author but in light of
chs. 1–12, in order to address a different situation for his or her audience. Wedderburn
notes thematic connections between ch. 13 and chs. 1–12 but does not mention the ones
discussed here. The evidence presented here does not necessarily counter Wedderburn’s
argument that a second author could have written ch. 13 in light of chs. 1–12. It only shows
that the benediction has been shaped by both traditional language and what has gone
before in the sermon. It adds further weight, however, to the argument that ch. 13 is a fit-
ting, even integral, end to chs. 1–12. For further discussion of the authenticity and integrity
of Heb 13, see Cockerill, Epistle to the Hebrews, 673–77. Recognizing Heb 13 as a peroration
also aids in understanding its style and integral function in the whole of the sermon (cf.
Koester, Hebrews, 555–56).
83 Cf. Kenneth Scott, The Imperial Cult under the Flavians (Ancient Religion and Mythology;
New York: Arno, 1975), 40–82.
174 Whitlark
concluding prayer the author of Hebrews likewise claims a divine vindication

and legitimacy for his community’s enthroned ruler. Jesus has been victorious
over death and the devil and now sits at the right hand of God in the heavenly
realm. More importantly, Jesus’s legitimacy comes at the expense of Rome.
His enthronement has nullified Rome’s verdict under which he was shame-
fully crucified. Through his resurrection and enthronement, Jesus has also
destroyed the devil’s power of death that stands behind Roman imperium. No
longer can the fear of death at the hands of Rome coerce the loyalty of a com-
munity living under Rome’s rule. In the agonistic, honor-shame culture of the
ancient Mediterranean world, these implicit counterclaims in Hebrews were
not harmless, neutral declarations. They challenged, even denigrated, similar
claims made by Rome and its emperor. They challenged, even if covertly or
indirectly, the grandeur claimed for Rome’s rule and the legitimation of that
rule.84 The concluding reference to the victory, enthronement, and coming
peace of Jesus in the benedictory prayer continues central themes in Hebrews
intended to sustain the community’s faithful endurance and hope as it suffers
for its loyalty to the Son and his followers. At the conclusion of his exhortation,
the author directs the hearts and minds of his audience to God and his victori-
ously enthroned Son, the true cosmic lord who will bring lasting abundance
out of his victory along with present efficacious help.
Bibliography
84 Cf. Johnson, Hebrews, 355, who describes the assertion of Jesus’s lordship in this prayer as
“subtle.” For the expectations surrounding covert or indirect critiques of authorities in the
Roman imperial context, see Whitlark, Resisting Empire, 21–48.
Karrer, Martin. Der Brief an Die Hebräer: Kapitel 5, 11–13, 25. Ökumenischer Taschen
buchkommentar zum Neuen Testament 20/2. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus,
2002.
Lane, William L. Hebrews 9–13. Word Biblical Commentary 47B. Dallas: Thomas Nelson,
1991.
Other Literature
Attridge, Harold W. “Liberating Death’s Captives: Reconsideration of an Early Christian
Myth.” Pages 103–15 in Gnosticism and the Early Christian World. Edited by James E.
Goehring, Charles W. Hedrick, Jack T. Sanders, and Hans Dieter Betz. Forum
Fascicles 2. Sonoma, Calif.: Polebridge, 1990.
Aune, David. “Heracles and Christ: Heracles Imagery in the Christology of Early
Christianity.” Pages 3–19 in Greeks, Romans, and Christians: Essays in Honors of
Abraham J. Malherbe. Edited by David L. Balch, Everett Ferguson, and Wayne A.
Meeks. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990.
Beard, Mary. The Roman Triumph. Cambridge: Belknap, 2007.
Beard, Mary, John North, and Simon Price. Religions of Rome. 2 vols. Cambridge:
Caneday, Ardel B. “The Eschatological World Already Subjected to the Son.”
Pages 28–39 in A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology of Hebrews in Its Ancient Contexts.
Edited by Richard Bauckham, Daniel Driver, Trevor Hart, and Nathan McDonald.
Library of New Testament Studies 387. London: T&T Clark, 2008.
Charlesworth, Martin P. “Pietas and Victoria: The Emperor and the Citizen.” Journal of
Roman Studies 33 (1943): 1–10.
Cockerill, Gareth Lee. “The Better Resurrection (Heb. 11:35): A Key to the Structure and
Rhetorical Purpose of Hebrews 11.” Tyndale Bulletin 51 (2000): 215–34.
Cody, Jane. “Conquerors and Conquered on Flavian Coins.” Pages 103–23 in Flavian
Rome: Culture, Image, Text. Edited by A. J. Boyle and W. J. Dominik. Leiden: Brill,
2003.
Collins, John J. “Introduction to Volume 1.” Pages xiii–xvii in The Encyclopedia of
Apocalypticism. Vol. 1: The Origins of Apocalypticism in Judaism and Christianity.
Edited by John Collins. New York: Continuum, 1999.
Cooley, Alison E. Res Gestae Divi Augusti: Text, Translation, and Commentary.
Darwall-Smith, Robin H. Emperors and Architecture: A Study of Flavian Rome. Collection
Latomus 231. Brussels: Latomus, 1996.
176 Whitlark
Esler, Philip. “God’s Honour and Rome’s Triumph: Responses to the Fall of Jerusalem in
70 ce in Three Jewish Apocalypses.” Pages 239–58 in Modeling Early Christianity:
Social Scientific Studies of the New Testament in Its Context. Edited by Philip Esler.
New York: Routledge, 1995.
Fears, J. Rufus. “Herculanensium Augustalium Aedes and the Theology of the Ruler
Cult.” Pages 166–69 in Proceedings of the XVth International Congress of Classical
Archaeology, Amsterdam, July 12–17, 1998: Classical Archaeology towards the Third
Millennium: Reflections and Perspectives. Vol. 1. Edited by Roald Docter and Eric
Moorman. Amsterdam: Allard Pierson Museum, 1999.
———. “The Cult of Jupiter and Roman Imperial Ideology.” Aufstieg und Niedergang
der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung,
17.1:3–141. Part 2, Principat, 17.1. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. New York:
Walter de Gruyter, 1981.
———. “The Cult of Virtues and Roman Imperial Ideology.” Aufstieg und Niedergang
der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung,
17.2:827–948. Part 2, Principat, 17.2. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. New York:
Walter de Gruyter, 1981.
———. “Theology of Victory at Rome: Approaches and Problems.” Aufstieg und
Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms im Spiegel der neueren
Forschung, 17.2:736–826. Part 2, Principat, 17.2. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase.
New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1981.
Galinsky, Karl. Augustan Culture: An Interpretive Introduction. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
———. The Herakles Theme: The Adaptations of the Hero in Literature from Homer to
the Twentieth Century. Totowa: Rowman & Littlefield, 1972.
de Grummond, Nancy Thomson. “Pax Augusta and the Horae on the Ara Pacis
Augustae.” American Journal of Archaeology 94 (1990): 663–77.
Hardie, Philip. Virgil’s Aeneid: Cosmos and Imperium. Oxford: Clarendon, 1986.
Hurst, L. D. “The Christology of Hebrews 1 and 2.” Pages 151–64 in The Glory of Christ in
the New Testament: Studies in Christology in Memory of George Bradford Caird.
Edited by L. D. Hurst and N. T. Wright. Oxford: Clarendon, 1987.
Klijn, A. F. J. “2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch.” Pages 615–52 in vol. 1 of The Old
Testament Pseudepigrapha: Apocalyptic Literature and Testaments. Edited by James
H. Charlesworth. New York: Doubleday, 1983.
Knox, Wilfred L. “The ‘Divine Hero’ Christology in the New Testament.” Harvard
Theological Review 41 (1948): 229–49.
Liebeschuetz, J. H. W. G. Continuity and Change in Roman Religion. Oxford: Clarendon,
1979.
Mattingly, Harold. Coins of the Roman Empire in the British Museum. Vol. 2: Vespasian to
Domitian. London: British Museum Publications, 1923.
Mattingly, Harold, and Edward Allen Sydenham. The Roman Imperial Coinage. Vol. 1:
Augustus to Vitellius. London: Spink, 1923.
———. The Roman Imperial Coinage. Vol. 2: Vespasian to Hadrian. London: Spink,
1926.
Millar, Fergas. “Last Year in Jerusalem: Monuments of the Jewish War in Rome.”
Pages 101–28 in Flavius Josephus and Flavian Rome. Edited by Jonathan Edmondson.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005.
Moffitt, David M. “ ‘If Another Priest Arises’: Jesus’ Resurrection and the High Priestly
Christology of Hebrews.” Pages 69–79 in A Cloud of Witnesses: The Theology of
Hebrews in Its Ancient Contexts. Edited by Richard Bauckham, Daniel Driver, Trevor
Hart, and Nathan McDonald. Library of New Testament Studies 387. London: T&T
Clark, 2008.
Oliver, James H. The Ruling Power: A Study of the Roman Empire in the Second Century
after Christ through the Roman Oration of Aelius Aristides. Transactions of the
American Philosophical Society vol. 43, pt. 4. Philadelphia: American Philosophical
Society, 1953.
Ramage, Nancy H., and Andrew Ramage. Roman Art: Romulus to Constantine. New
York: Abrams, 1991.
Schenck, Kenneth. “A Celebration of the Enthroned Son: The Catena of Hebrews 1.”
Journal of Biblical Literature 120 (2001): 469–85.
Scholer, David N. “ ‘The God of Peace Will Shortly Crush Satan under Your Feet’
(Romans 16:20a): The Function of Apocalyptic Eschatology in Paul.” Ex Auditu 6
(1990): 53–61.
Scott, Kenneth. The Imperial Cult under the Flavians. Ancient Religion and Mythology.
New York: Arno, 1975.
Simpson, Christopher J. “Where Is the Parthian? The Prima Porta Statue of Augustus
Revisited.” Latomus 64 (2005): 82–90.
Stafford, Emma. Herakles. Gods and Heroes of the Ancient World. New York: Routledge,
2012.
Talbert, Charles H. and Jason A. Whitlark. Getting “Saved”: The Whole Story of Salvation
in the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011.
Wallace-Hadrill, Andrew. “The Golden Age and Sin in Augustan Ideology.” Past and
Present 95 (1982): 19–36.
Wedderburn, A. J. M. “The ‘Letter’ to the Hebrews and Its Thirteenth Chapter.” New
Testament Studies 50 (2004): 390–405.
Whitlark, Jason A. “Cosmology and the Perfection of Humanity in Hebrews.”
Pages 117–30 in Interpretations and the Claims of the Text: Resourcing New Testament
178 Whitlark
Theology. Edited by Jason A. Whitlark, Bruce W. Longenecker, Lidija Novakovic, and

Mikeal C. Parsons.Waco, Tex.: Baylor University Press, 2014.
———. Resisting Empire: Rethinking the Purpose of the Letter to “the Hebrews.” Library
of New Testament Studies 484. London: T&T Clark, 2014.
Zanker, Paul. Roman Art. Translated by Henry Heitmann-Gordon. Los Angeles: J. Paul
Getty Museum, 2010.
———. The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus. Translated by Alan Shapiro. Jerome
Lectures 16. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1988.
Part 3
Spatial Contexts
∵
Critical Spatiality and the Book of Hebrews*
Jon L. Berquist
A Brief Introduction to Critical Spatial Theory
Critical spatial theory takes into account the constructed nature of the spaces
and places that we presume to be fixed around us. As a discipline, critical
spatiality can first be found in the 1960s, in the work of Michel Foucault and
his concept of heterotopia, as well as his attention to the social construction
of places through the social practices that become synonymous with spaces
such as prisons and hospitals.1 The discipline developed into its own in the
1980s, with contributions from the United States, England, and continental
Europe, applying poststructuralist thought to fields such as human geography
and urban planning. Thinkers such as Henri Lefebvre developed a theoretical
framework from a philosophical grounding,2 while geographers such as David
Harvey worked within geography to build theory as a means of radicalizing
that field.3 Lefebvre and Harvey’s indebtedness to Karl Marx’s critical thought
shaped their spatial theories in ways that took the history of space seriously, in
connection with the means of production, including the production of space,
the social use of space, and the transformative possibilities of space within
social settings. Yi-Fu Tuan’s work brought not only a global reference and the
* Originally presented at “Simultaneous Cults: The Intersection of Sacred Space, Time, and
Practice,” a joint session of the Hebrews Group; the Space, Place, and Lived Experience in
Antiquity Section; and the Sacrifice, Cult, and Atonement Section, at the Annual Meeting of
the Society of Biblical Literature, San Francisco, 20 November 2011.
1 Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason (New
York: Pantheon, 1964), trans. of Folie et déraison: histoire de la folie à l’âge classique (Paris:
Gallimard, 1961); Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (New York: Pantheon,
1977), trans. of Surveiller et punir: naissance de la pris (Paris: Gallimard, 1976); and Foucault,
“Of Other Spaces,” Diacritics 16 (1986): 22–27.
2 Henri Lefebvre, The Production of Space (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991), trans. of Production
de l’espace (Paris: Editions Anthropos, 1974); see also Lefebvre, The Urban Revolution
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003), trans. of La révolution urbaine (Paris:
Gallimard, 1970); and Lefebvre, State, Space, World: Selected Essays (ed. Neil Brenner and
Stuart Elden; Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2009).
3 David Harvey, Social Justice and the City (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1973);
Harvey, Justice, Nature, and the Geography of Difference (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1996); and
Harvey, Spaces of Capital: Towards a Critical Geography (New York: Routledge, 2001).

182 Berquist
beginnings of a correction to the Western philosophical dependence, but

also an emphasis on the roles of perspective, experience, and relationship
in critical spatiality.4 Edward Soja’s work as an urban planner focused on the
significance of practice, especially the unplanned uses of space.5
In biblical studies, critical spatiality began with James W. Flanagan and the
Constructions of Ancient Space Seminar—the last program unit to be a joint
American Academy of Religion (AAR) and Society of Biblical Literature (SBL)
project.6 SBL’s Space, Place, and Lived Experience in Antiquity Section as well
as multiple program units in AAR and other scholarly guilds are the current
expressions of religious academic interest in spatial approaches, which can
also be seen in some treatments of the body, migration, and other topics.
Full explanations of critical spatial theory are available in other settings.7
However, it is crucial to explore one set of critical tools: Soja’s spatial analysis,
4 Yi-Fu Tuan, Topophilia: A Study of Environmental Perception, Attitudes, and Values

(Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1974); Tuan, Space and Place: The Perspective of
Experience (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1977); Tuan, Cosmos and Hearth:
A Cosmopolite’s Viewpoint (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996).
5 Edward W. Soja, Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory
(London: Verso, 1989); Soja, Thirdspace: Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-Imagined
Places (Oxford: Blackwell, 1996).
6 James W. Flanagan, “History as Hologram: Integrating Literary, Archaeological, and
Comparative Sociological Evidence,” SBL Seminar Papers, 1985 (SBLSP 24; Atlanta, Scholars
Press, 1985), 291–314; Flanagan, “Finding the Arrow of Time: Constructs of Ancient History
and Religion,” Currents in Research: Biblical Studies 3 (1995): 37–80; Flanagan, “Constructs of
Space, Place, and Territoriality in Ancient Southwest Asia” (paper presented at the Constructs
of the Social and Cultural Worlds of Antiquity Group, American Academy of Religion and
Society of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting, 21 November 1998); Flanagan, “Postmodern
Perspectives on Premodern Space” (paper presented at the Canadian Congress of the Social
Sciences and Humanities, 4 June 1999); Flanagan, “Space,” in Handbook of Postmodern
Biblical Interpretation (ed. A. K. M. Adam; St. Louis: Chalice, 2000), 239–44; Flanagan,
“Ancient Perceptions of Space/Perceptions of Ancient Space,” in The Social World of the
Hebrew Bible: Twenty-Five Years of the Social Sciences in the Academy (ed. Ronald A. Simkins,
Stephen L. Cook, and Athalya Brenner; Semeia 87; Atlanta: SBL, 2001), 15–43; and Flanagan,
“Mapping the Biblical World: Perceptions of Space in Ancient Southwestern Asia,” in Mappa
Mundi: Mapping Culture/Mapping the World (ed. Jacqueline Murray; Working Papers in the
Humanities 9; Windsor, Ont.: Humanities Research Group, University of Windsor, 2001), 1–18.
7 Jon L. Berquist, “Critical Spatiality and the Construction of the Ancient World,” in “Imagining”
Biblical Worlds: Studies in Spatial, Social and Historical Constructs in Honor of James W.
Flanagan (ed. David M. Gunn and Paula M. McNutt; JSOTSup 359; Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 2002), 14–29; Berquist, “Introduction: Critical Spatiality and the Uses of
Theory,” in Constructions of Space I: Theory, Geography, and Narrative (ed. Jon L. Berquist and
Claudia V. Camp; LHB/OTS 481; New York: T&T Clark, 2007), 1–12; Berquist, “Constructing the
Critical Spatiality And The Book Of Hebrews 183
a trialectic of First-, Second-, and Thirdspaces.8 In his nomenclature, Firstspace

refers to what we might otherwise call physical space, that which we might
say is objective. It includes both natural and constructed objects. Sometimes,
I think of this space as GPS-space; it can be measured in ways that show its
unique specificity. Secondspace refers to space as it is perceived, mapped,
represented, or intended. Thus, a map of a physical space is a Secondspace
representation, as would be a label or a word. Thirdspace is space as lived
and experienced, which involves transgression of the Secondspace intention.
Thirdspace is how space is performed. Perhaps Soja’s most frequently forgot-
ten point is that spatial analysis must always take into account all three spaces
at once; these are not different spaces but different aspects, various modes of
analysis of space. Spatiality can never be reduced to fewer than all three.
Two examples serve to illustrate the interconnectedness of these heuris-
tic analytic categories of space. The first is one of Soja’s examples, from his
experience in urban planning. Think of a bridge, a highway overpass. It is pos-
sible to think of it as a physical object existing in Firstspace, with measurable
dimensions and location. This structure may be what engineers think of as
a bridge. At the same time, the bridge exists in Secondspace; there are maps
of the bridge, and there may be photographs or even paintings of the bridge.
Those who drive over or under the bridge form their own memories of the
bridge. All of these perceptions and representations of the bridge constitute
the bridge in Secondspace, as do any number of plans or blueprints for the
bridge—the Department of Transportation’s statistics for how many cars pass
over the bridge, the weight that the bridge can hold, the maintenance schedule
needed for the bridge, and the cost of those repairs.
Thirdspace, then, is the lived experience of the bridge—the ways that peo-
ple interact with it. The Secondspace planners have an intention for the bridge,
involving the movement of a certain volume of car traffic in certain directions.
But what if, underneath the bridge, there are people who consider the bridge
to be shelter, a living space, or a place to call home? For these people, the
bridge is a Thirdspace act that transgresses the Secondspace intention for the
same Firstspace object. A social analysis of the bridge from the perspective
of humanistic geography or critical spatial theory would integrate all of these
realities.
City of David: Critical Spatiality and Jerusalem as Capital,” in Constructions of Space II: The
Biblical City and Other Imagined Spaces (ed. Claudia V. Camp and Jon L. Berquist; LHB/OTS
490; New York: T&T Clark, 2008), 40–52.
8 See especially Soja, Thirdspace.
184 Berquist
A second example is more current, from Zuccotti Park, a 33,000-square-foot

publicly accessible park in Lower Manhattan, alongside Broadway, in 2011. In
New York, there exists a physical street just a few blocks away from the park,
with certain geophysical coordinates, named Wall Street. That Firstspace street
has a Secondspace function, as a space for multiple businesses, many of which
are financial. Thus, “Wall Street” refers both to the street and to the businesses;
metaphorically (and metaphor operates as a type of Secondspace) the name of
the street has come to mean the type of investment activity. Thus, “to get a job on
Wall Street” means to engage in certain economic practices. During September
through November 2011, the Occupy Wall Street movement presented a differ-
ent set of practices possible in the same Firstspace and unimagined by those
who defined the Secondspace representations. The Occupy movement existed
as a Thirdspace phenomenon—even though its practitioners created their
own Firstspace configurations of objects and their own Secondspace mean-
ings and representations. The growth of the subsequent nationwide social
movement has also meant that it was possible to Occupy in any city, and not
just around local equivalents of financial centers. Occupying occurred in civic
centers of political power as well as economic influence. Although Firstspace
may lead to Secondspace then Thirdspace, the Occupy movement illustrates
that it is possible for Thirdspace to reconstruct Secondspace (by changing the
meanings) and Firstspace (by moving objects). Spatial theory points us to see
the interplay of all of these spaces.
How can spatial theory be relevant for biblical studies? For scholars of the
ancient world, access to Firstspace is almost non-existent. Although archae-
ology may help at times, it remains impossible to locate or reconstruct the
Firstspace in which Hebrews was written or heard. Aside from the temple,
scholars cannot identify even a single site mentioned in the Book of Hebrews,
and even in the case of the temple there is no access to the full, three-
dimensional site of the ancient world. Likewise, scholars do not know how
people used these ancient places, so contemporary access to the ancient
Thirdspace data is virtually nonexistent. Instead, scholars analyze Secondspace
information—the text itself, representing and describing the space. However,
spatial theory would indicate that this Secondspace data reflects locations
that are at once Firstspace, Secondspace, and Thirdspace. Within the repre-
sentations of space are the traces of a physical space, and within the rhetoric
about space are traces of transgressions of space that were at least considered
if not performed. Our access to the ancient world, then, is not so different from
the access contemporaries have to Occupy Wall Street. In other words, Wall
Street exists as a physical object even for those who have not visited the site in
person, as well as for those who did not participate in the protests. However,
reading texts and viewing images online is sufficient for a scholar to recog-
nize that these locations are physical places, representations and meanings,
and contested social practices involving the varying uses of single spaces.
Furthermore, scholars are able to perceive and analyze the interrelations
between these spaces. This is the kind of spatial reading that biblical scholars
can bring to the Book of Hebrews.
Hebrews’ Spaces: A Spatial and Temporal Solution
Within the Book of Hebrews, then, what spaces do we find? It would be right
to characterize the Roman Empire as a large space surrounding the text, but
the empire itself receives minimal attention in the book. Instead, two other
spaces emerge as most obvious in a spatial reading of the book: the temple and
the body of Jesus Christ. However, the most salient feature of these two spaces
is that they are missing. Within the world of the text, neither of these spaces
exists as a Firstspace reality. Instead, both the temple and the body of Jesus are
absent in Firstspace but present in Secondspace, as memory and as represen-
tation. The problem of these two spaces is that they are gone; thus, the entire
Book of Hebrews lacks any grounding in a real physical Firstspace.
The book finds its solution to the problem of the absent spaces in a nuanced
theory of space and time.9 In many ways, the book’s approach to space and
time shares significant components with Platonism, although many scholars
contest the appropriateness of Platonism as a context for reading Hebrews.10
Of course, Platonism occupies a variety of mental landscapes; different schools
produced multiple expressions of these theories, at points in contradistinc-
tion to each other. I would argue that Hebrews, like many Platonisms, attends
to categories of the real in relation to perception; as such, the book demon-
strates similar interests to Platonism without reproducing a pure system of
9 For context and background, see Robert Hannah, Time in Antiquity (London: Routledge,
2009).
10 Many scholars do not interpret the book of Hebrews as consistent with a Platonic world-
view. In particular, see the discussion critical of Platonic interpretations in David M.
Moffitt, Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews (SupNovT
141; Leiden: Brill, 2011). Compare the discussion of Platonism as a widespread but not
universal worldview in Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (NTL; Louisville,
Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006), esp. pp. 17–21.
186 Berquist
philosophy. In Hebrews’ thought, there is a real space but humans cannot see it
directly; the form is what is truly real space, and anything material and percep-
tible is an echo of the real. The material world maps the world of forms into the
world of perception, but the forms are real, whereas human perception is not.
Thus, Hebrews describes Jesus as “the reflection of God’s glory and the exact
imprint of God’s very being,” whereas God is “the Majesty on high” (Heb 1:3).
In other words, Jesus had been present in the world of perception, in which he
reflected or echoed God, who exists in the world of forms. Jesus’s absence from
our world is a result of his return to sit at God’s right hand in the real world
of forms, because Jesus (as echo of God) belongs in a world of reality, not the
illusory world of perception.
The temple and the body of Christ are absent from the Book of Hebrews,
and the book explains this absence: Christ (and later the temple) is present in
the true world of forms, and therefore absent from the human (unreal) world.
However, the human world can reflect these true forms in a world of percep-
tion. In that sense, the temple and Christ can be mapped into our Secondspace
perceived and perceptible world through human (Christian) Thirdspace prac-
tices. Humans enact the presence of the temple and of Christ; the experience
of absence, abjection, and desolation can lead people to acts of worship and
ethics in the human world, and this Thirdspace (re-)enactment of the missing
Firstspace Christ restores meaning and makes real the presence of Christ and
the temple.
The Book of Hebrews does not use only space to interpret the absence of
temple and body. The book also uses ideas of time.11 The world of forms is not
only spatially separate from the world of perception. The world of forms is
also temporally distinct; the real world of forms is eternal, whereas the mate-
rial world is temporary and fleeting. Thus, God (a real form, outside perceived
space) has operated from the beginning (1:1, 10) and is forever and ever (1:8),
whereas Jesus was visible for a little while (2:9). This notion of the permanent
occurs at least ten times in the Book of Hebrews (εἰς τὸν αἰῶνα, “forever” in 1:8;
5:6; 6:20; 7:17, 21, 24, 28; 13:8, 21; see also a notion of “without τέλος” in 3:14; 7:3,
and similar in 1:12), marking an emphasis on the eternal not often found in the
New Testament. What is real and true (i.e., God, Christ, and temple) pre-exists
human experience and outlives human experience, providing a permanence
that inhabits a longer temporal frame than the fleeting experiences of human
life.
11 Kenneth L. Schenck, Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Setting of the Sacrifice
(SNTSMS 143; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 96–99, 109–12.
But this temporal argument presents a further problem. The book’s spatial
philosophy allows for humanity to reflect the world of forms and thus to par-
ticipate in the spatial life of Christ and the temple in some fashion, but its
temporal philosophy places the temple and the body of Jesus in an eternal
realm to which the present world has no access. We cannot simply outlast the
material world and enter into eternity. For the Book of Hebrews, a Platonic-like
solution to the absent spaces succeeds as philosophy but creates a new prob-
lem: how does one move from the perceptible to the real? How do we get from
this human world of Jesus’s perceived absence to the world of God’s presence?
A Solution of Pathos
At this point, Hebrews exits its earlier philosophical categories, or at least

abandons its more deterministic elements, in order to solve this problem of
movement from one space/time to another, from the perceptible to the real,
from the now to the eternal. The book’s rhetoric leaves behind space and time
in exchange for an embrace of pathos, the very capacity for feeling that seemed
so temporary and illusory within Platonic thought. Instead, Hebrews forms a
theory of suffering as the means for transfer between realms. Jesus begins this
process: “It was fitting that God, for whom and through whom all things exist,
in bringing many children to glory, should make the pioneer of their salvation
perfect through sufferings” (Heb 2:10, see also 5:8). However, Jesus has “passed
through the heavens” (4:14) to move back to the eternal, the “age to come” (6:5).
Jesus transcends the temporal through the pathos of suffering. We, too, expe-
rience sufferings in this world (10:32–39), the trials that are discipline (12:10);
these sufferings produce an endurance, a realization of the real that tran-
scends the temporary nature of this realm and moves us into the true temple.
In Hebrews’ words, “We have this hope, a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul,
a hope that enters the inner shrine behind the curtain” (6:19).
Hebrews identifies the persistent but never-real now of this world as a time
of sin (3:10) and a temporary time, “as long as it is called today” (3:13, see 3:7
and 4:7).12 The Book of Hebrews exhorts the readers to forsake the hardness of
heart that could cause people to cling to the visible realm and instead accept
with obedience to Jesus’s sufferings the path from the temporary to the eternal,
where the temple and the body of Jesus reside as real spaces now that they are
absent from the perceived world.
12 Schenck, Cosmology, 188.

188 Berquist
The real world of the temple and of the body of Jesus is understood in tem-
poral terms. This world of temple and body (i.e., the real world of forms) is
permanent and perfection (ch. 6), as a rest (ch. 4) that participates in a stasis
of unchanging time with a cessation of work and movement (4:10). However,
this eternal world is reached without dependence on the passing now: Christ
saves and makes permanent (9:23–24) not through the work of the perceptible
temple and its sacrifices but by exiting the present through the sacrifice of his
bodily death.
In this sense, the goal of Christ’s work is death, not only the death of sacri-
fice (a death we witness but do not experience) but also the death of the now
(ch. 10). Because of Christ, the present world of passing time and cyclic rhyth-
mic action ends, and along with the death of the now comes detachment from
sin and everything that is fleeting. Such temporary things are replaced with an
attachment to permanence. This detachment comes through human suffering
(10:32–39), through which people experience endurance and the promised res-
cue or salvation from all that is fleeting. Humans who detach from the tempo-
rary are then moved into the permanent realm in the approaching Day (10:25,
37), attached to the eternal. Faith (11:1) is the assurance of what the human
world does not see—of the absent spaces of the temple and of the body of
Christ, which people cannot see because they are eternal and which cannot be
seen from the perceived world where humans live as long as it is today. As such,
the approved Christian path according to the Book of Hebrews is for one to
run away from the world that is ending (12:1) in order to get out while one still
can, and to exit this present space/time as one enters into the salvific unseen.
Those who run will practice an ethics of permanence, detaching themselves
from the temporary, from the weariness of this world, from the turmoil that
passes (12:7–14).
Dislocating Time
The Book of Hebrews uses space/time to solve a spatial problem. The prob-
lem for the community of readers is that they have no place—no temple and
no body. The absent spaces have left the community with no locus of being.
Hebrews offers such a locus for the readers but locates it in a space/time that
renders all of this world unreal and makes anything worthwhile inaccessible,
except through the pathos bridge of suffering that takes us from the world we
know now to one we cannot see. Such a construction would make sense to
readers informed by some versions of Platonic thought and would solve the
stark realities of Jesus’s absence, the temple’s destruction, and the increasing
sufferings of the faithful. Hebrews provides hope to the readers, if they are will-
ing to reject the reality of what they see and be pulled into an unknown eter-
nity of permanence.13
Yet, some matters remain. Material remains. Although this explanation
of space/time resolves the dominant rhetoric of Hebrews and attends to the
absent spaces of temple and body, the spatiality of the Book of Hebrews con-
tinues to assert its influence on the text. The book’s dominant temporal rheto-
ric faces a counter-rhetoric that remains spatial.
The spatial problem, to be sure, is mostly addressed in terms of the lack of
a locus, in that the primary spaces of Jesus and the temple are absent from
the readers’ Firstspace. But at the end of the book, the spatial establishes a
new beachhead. Just a few verses after the temporal affirmation of perma-
nence that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (13:8)
and just before the temporal plaint that “here we have no lasting city, but we
are looking for the city that is to come” (13:14), we hear the crescendo of the
book’s theory of suffering: “Jesus also suffered . . . let us then . . . bear the abuse
he endured” (13:12–13).
But listen more carefully. “Jesus also suffered outside the city gate in order to
sanctify the people by his own blood. Let us then go to him outside the camp
and bear the abuse he endured” (13:12–13). Even in the midst of this tempo-
ral climax, a spatial rhetoric reasserts itself. Jesus’s suffering is outside the city
gate, so let us go outside the camp with him. After almost thirteen chapters, a
locus appears. Jesus waits in a physical place, just outside the camp, and the
readers’ place is with Jesus. The spatial rhetoric reaffirms the need for suffering
and its endurance; spatiality gives us no way around suffering. But spatiality
does give the readers a place to stand, instead of the need to remove them-
selves from the world.14
I wonder if this is an intentionally feminized space for Jesus and for the
readers. The readers exit the city and meet Jesus outside the camp, in the very
place that ancient Israelite custom sent menstruating women as well as men
with emissions (Lev 15). Women who bleed must be separated from the rest of
13 Schenck, Cosmology, 189–90.

14 Thus, the entry of spatiality into Hebrews’ rhetoric is also an assertion of physicality,
materiality, and embodiment, seeking a physical and embodied spirituality that escapes
the Nietzschean critique of Christianity as a common-person’s Platonism. See Ward
Blanton, A Materialism for the Masses: Saint Paul and the Philosophy of Undying Life (New
York: Columbia University Press, 2014).
190 Berquist
the community (Lev 15:31), in a discriminatory act justified as purity.15 Blood

and the bleeding were often moved outside the camp, as part of re-valuing the
meaning and power of the blood, as in Day of Atonement rituals (Lev 16:27);16
in later times, some Rabbinic traditions about niddah emphasized segregation,
and the mikveh was traditionally placed at some distance from the center of
population. Jesus too is bleeding, and the readers join the hemorrhaging as we
exit the city to be with him, accepting insults and abuse just as he did. Time
begins to move again, not frozen in the eternal where the readers had been told
was the only place to find Jesus, but flowing like a river of Heraclitean time,
giving back a moment of temporal and embodied embrace. Even if there is no
permanent city (13:14), is there still an “outside” to which the readers can turn
in order to find each other? In this alternative external space, do the readers
find a new community of the bleeding? Is this a place for the readers to share
with each other and with Jesus? If readers should not neglect meeting together
(10:25), can they meet each other outside, in a place marked by blood?
In the midst of this exsanguinating exodus, in a cyclical moment in time that
once again flows like blood, we can trace this spatial seepage back to another
organ, another forgotten space: the heart. The Book of Hebrews has repeatedly
told readers to avoid the hardness of heart that opposes the living God (3:8,
10, 12, 15; 4:7), and has twice exhorted readers not to lose heart (12:3, 5), but to
approach God with a true heart (10:22), a cleansed heart (10:22) strengthened
by grace (13:9). God’s word is living and active, able to discern the heart (4:12),
which is the new locus of God’s law (8:10; 10:16). Here in the heart we find a new
spatial logic that reverses the externalizing cosmology of the heavens. God is
not far away (Exod 33–34; Deut 4:7, 30:11); God is inside, in Logos and in Torah,
in the hearts. The destruction of the temple, then, seems much less relevant,
since that was not the house of God, for God inhabits word and heart.
Hebrews, in this spatial reading, deconstructs its own temporal solution
by this move inside the body and outside the camp. Like blood in constant
motion, the heart within pushes out the words of God, uttered in praise as they
15 Carol Meyers, Discovering Eve: Ancient Israelite Women in Context (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1988), 34. The experiences of menstrual separation should be under-
stood in a broader context of impurity as “natural, unavoidable, and not sinful,” per
Jonathan Klawans, Impurity and Sin in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2004), 40.
16 Day of Atonement rituals are paraphrased from Lev 16:27 in Heb 13:11. See Harold
W. Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews
(Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1989), 397. The Levitical imagery has been
brought to the reader’s mind before Heb 13:13.
pass the lips (13:15), a fruit of what is inside that becomes a sacrifice of praise
like the bleeding sacrifice that keeps Jesus outside the camp (13:14) and in the
readers’ midst. This spatiality shifts focus away from the eternal, turning the
readers’ attention away from the eternal cosmic priestly Christ to the bleeding
Jesus and the heart still present inside the community of readers.
The lack of locus, then, presents no spatial problem. In Hebrews, no temple
remains, but sacrifice takes place on lips and breath (13:15). Instead of the tem-
ple’s eternal pattern and form that is reflected but never copied in this passing
world, there is repeated an ongoing imitation of the faith of leaders who speak
the word of God (13:7). Such imitations may well be the practices of Thirdspace,
such as regular gatherings and the habits of meeting together (which are not
to be neglected, according to 10:25) but they are now located outside the camp.
The temple was a place of holiness, a Firstspace reality and a Secondspace rep-
resentation that meant holiness to those who could gather nearby. But now
the space of bleeding outside the camp is a place where Jesus’s blood sanctifies
without building and without altar (13:12), and a space where the community
engages in a Thirdspace of gathering, of offering praise, of doing good, and of
sharing with each other (13:16).
In an age that seems like forever without a temple and without a physical
Jesus, the Book of Hebrews may well call the reader back from an exit of the
present world, an exit that Platonic thought might have urged as a strategy to
find what is real and permanent. At the end of the book, blood’s flow interrupts
the eternal unchanging rest and exhorts the reader to re-engage the now and
to occupy the present, attending to each other and not losing the inscribed
heart inside.
Bibliography
Attridge, Harold W. The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the
Hebrews. Hermeneia. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1989.
Berquist, Jon L. “Constructing the City of David: Critical Spatiality and Jerusalem as
Capital.” Pages 40–52 in Constructions of Space II: The Biblical City and Other
Imagined Spaces. Edited by Claudia V. Camp and Jon L. Berquist. Library Hebrew
Bible/Old Testament Studies 490. New York: T&T Clark, 2008.
———. “Critical Spatiality and the Construction of the Ancient World.” Pages 14–29 in
“Imagining” Biblical Worlds: Studies in Spatial, Social and Historical Constructs in
Honor of James W. Flanagan. Edited by David M. Gunn and Paula M. McNutt. Journal
for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series 359. Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 2002.
192 Berquist
———. “Introduction: Critical Spatiality and the Uses of Theory.” Pages 1–12 in
Constructions of Space I: Theory, Geography, and Narrative. Edited by Jon L. Berquist
and Claudia V. Camp. Library Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 481. New York:
T&T Clark, 2007.
Blanton, Ward. A Materialism for the Masses: Saint Paul and the Philosophy of Undying
Life. New York: Columbia University Press, 2014.
Flanagan, James W. “Ancient Perceptions of Space/Perceptions of Ancient Space.”
Pages 15–43 in The Social World of the Hebrew Bible: Twenty-Five Years of the Social
Sciences in the Academy. Edited by Ronald A. Simkins, Stephen L. Cook, and Athalya
Brenner. Semeia 87. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2001.
———. “Constructs of Space, Place, and Territoriality in Ancient Southwest Asia.”
Paper presented at the Constructs of the Social and Cultural Worlds of Antiquity
Group, American Academy of Religion and Society of Biblical Literature Annual
Meeting. Orlando, Florida, 21 November 1998.
———. “Finding the Arrow of Time: Constructs of Ancient History and Religion.”
Currents in Research: Biblical Studies 3 (1995): 37–80.
———. “History as Hologram: Integrating Literary, Archaeological, and Comparative
Sociological Evidence.” Pages 291–314 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1985. Society of Biblical
Literature Seminar Papers 24. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985.
———. “Mapping the Biblical World: Perceptions of Space in Ancient Southwestern
Asia.” Pages 1–18 in Mappa Mundi: Mapping Culture/Mapping the World. Edited by
Jacqueline Murray. Working Papers in the Humanities 9. Windsor, Ont.: Humanities
Research Group, University of Windsor, 2001.
———. “Postmodern Perspectives on Premodern Space.” Paper presented at the
Canadian Congress of the Social Sciences and Humanities. Montreal, 4 June 1999.
———. “Space.” Pages 239–44 in Handbook of Postmodern Biblical Interpretation.
Edited by A. K. M. Adam. St. Louis: Chalice, 2000.
Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. New York: Pantheon,
1977. Translation of Surveiller et punir: naissance de la pris. Paris: Gallimard, 1976.
———. Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason. New York:
Pantheon, 1964. Translation of Folie et déraison: histoire de la folie à l’âge classique.
Paris: Gallimard, 1961.
———. “Of Other Spaces.” Diacritics 16 (1986): 22–27.
Hannah, Robert. Time in Antiquity. London: Routledge, 2009.
Harvey, David. Justice, Nature, and the Geography of Difference. Malden, Mass.:
Blackwell, 1996.
———. Social Justice and the City. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1973.
———. Spaces of Capital: Towards a Critical Geography. New York: Routledge, 2001.
Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006.
Klawans, Jonathan. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2004.
Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Oxford: Blackwell, 1991. Translation of
Production de l’espace. Paris: Editions Anthropos, 1974.
———. State, Space, World: Selected Essays. Edited by Neil Brenner and Stuart Elden.
Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2009.
———. The Urban Revolution. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003.
Translation of La revolution urbaine. Paris: Gallimard, 1970.
Meyers, Carol. Discovering Eve: Ancient Israelite Women in Context. Oxford: Oxford
Moffitt, David M. Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews.
Supplements to Novum Testamentum 141. Leiden: Brill, 2011.
Schenck, Kenneth L. Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Setting of the Sacrifice.
Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 143. Cambridge: Cambridge
Soja, Edward W. Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social
Theory. London: Verso, 1989.
———. Thirdspace: Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-Imagined Places.
Oxford: Blackwell, 1996.
Tuan, Yi-Fu. Cosmos and Hearth: A Cosmopolite’s Viewpoint. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 1996.
———. Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 1977.
———. Topophilia: A Study of Environmental Perception, Attitudes, and Values.
Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1974.
The Body of Jesus Outside the Eternal City: Mapping
Ritual Space in the Epistle to the Hebrews*
Introduction
Edward W. Soja opens his book Thirdspace by declaring that his objective is
to encourage you to think differently about the meanings and signifi-

cance of space and those related concepts that compose and comprise
the inherent spatiality of human life . . . [to] question them in new ways
that are aimed at opening up and expanding the scope and critical sen-
sibility of your already established spatial or geographical imaginations.1
This essay takes up the challenge of Soja and other theorists of critical spatial-
ity in the case of the Epistle to the Hebrews. I “observe” the locative and spatial
aspects of Hebrews and seek to make sense of the various ways in which these
aspects become dimensions of the overall argument of the text. That is, I hope
here to organize the strategies with which Hebrews deploys space, the map-
ping of space, and movement through spaces, with particular attention to how
these strategies serve to create a compelling and persuasive set of ends for its
audience. Inasmuch as Hebrews configures Jesus and the inscribed audience
as making a journey, I examine the spatial mapping of Hebrews in order to
understand the semiotically complex topography through which Jesus and the
audience travel. My aim is to make an initial foray into describing the spatial
poetics of Hebrews and to propose some ways in which these poetics function
in relation to the social setting of the text.
I presented an earlier version of this essay in November 2012 at the Society
of Biblical Literature Annual Meeting in Chicago. The occasion was a joint
session of three program units: Hebrews; Space, Place, and Lived Experience
* Ellen Aitken died in June 2014, after a short illness. This essay was prepared for publication
by Catherine Playoust, who would like to thank Harold W. Attridge, Carly Daniel-Hughes,
Gabriella Gelardini, Ian Henderson, Jeffrey Keiser, Bill Porter, Carla Sulzbach, and Meredith
Warren for their assistance.
1 Edward W. Soja, Thirdspace: Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-Imagined Places
(Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell, 1996), 1.

The Body Of Jesus Outside The Eternal City 195
in Antiquity; and Sacrifice, Cult, and Atonement.2 The principal scope of my

assignment was the intersecting concerns and approaches of the first two of
these program units, and thus I examine the Epistle to the Hebrews here in
terms of how this discourse makes use of space, spatial practices, and spatial
representation. Because space in Hebrews is ritual space that thinks with and
redefines a set of cultic spaces, some of which contain sacrificial practices, the
essay inevitably strays also into the concerns of sacrifice and cult.
A word about my procedure is in order. The first part of this essay explores
the spatial poetics of Hebrews, undertaking the task of observing and describ-
ing the spatial aspects found in the text. For this, I am much indebted in sev-
eral respects to the work of Mark K. George in his book Israel’s Tabernacle
as Social Space, and, indeed, my term “spatial poetics” is derived from his
usage.3 George’s argument pertains directly to the use of Israel’s tabernacle in
Hebrews’ argument and illumines Hebrews’ transformations of the tabernacle.
Additionally, his clear exposition of the critical spatial theories developed by
Henri Lefebvre, especially his analytic categories, has stimulated my thinking
about Hebrews. Lefebvre writes of la pratique spatiale, les représentations de
l’espace, and les espaces de représentation (spatial practice, the representations
of space, and the spaces of representation); George’s version of this triad is
“spatial practice,” “conceptual space,” and “symbolic space.”4
I turn then to a series of proposals on space in Hebrews in order to suggest
a larger reading of Hebrews in terms of the remapping of ritual space. At this
stage, I experiment with the theoretical approaches of Edward Soja and partic-
ularly his idea of Thirdspace to see what promise it holds for our understand-
ing of how Hebrews cultivates a particular perspective on Roman imperium
on the part of its audience. Soja’s trialectics of Firstspace, Secondspace, and
Thirdspace builds on Lefebvre too, especially on his concepts of l’espace perçu,
l’espace conçu, and l’espace vécu (perceived space, conceived space, and lived
space), which are closely related to the triad mentioned above.5 Admittedly,
my use of Soja is tentative and preliminary. My familiarity with his approach
2 I am grateful to the members of these program units and especially to my respondents on

that occasion, John M. Vonder Bruegge and Christian Eberhart.
3 The term “spatial poetics” is discussed in Mark K. George, Israel’s Tabernacle as Social Space
(Ancient Israel and Its Literature 2; Atlanta: SBL, 2009), 31–41. The chief influences on George’s
spatial poetics are the critical spatial theorist Henri Lefebvre and the New Historicist literary
critic Stephen Greenblatt.
4 Henri Lefebvre, La production de l’espace (4th ed.; Paris: Anthropos, 2000), 42–43, 48–49;
George, Israel’s Tabernacle, 20–31.
5 Lefebvre, La production de l’espace, 48–49; Soja, Thirdspace, 65–69.
196 Aitken
derives in part from two recent doctoral dissertations: John Vonder Bruegge
uses Soja in analyzing Josephus’s geography of Galilee; and Carla Sulzbach
makes extensive use of Soja’s Thirdspace to argue for the presence of the
temple throughout Daniel.6
I note too that my discussion of Hebrews in this essay builds upon earlier
work in which I explored such matters as the intersecting itineraries of Jesus
and the audience in Hebrews and the remapping of memory in the lived space
of the city of Rome. My work here also fits within a larger project of reading
Hebrews in Flavian Rome, and thus some of my proposals in this essay pertain
to the utility of Hebrews’ spatial poetics for those who negotiate their way in
this cityscape.7
The Spatial Poetics of Hebrews
Now to the task of observation. The locative and the spatial are undeniable
in Hebrews, forming the complex of concepts and metaphors used through-
out this homiletical discourse. We encounter spatial aspects governing its
overarching thought patterns and informing small-scale details. Its persuasive
strategies employ metaphors of travel, arrival, and entrance both to describe
the work of Jesus on earth and in heaven and to encourage its inscribed audi-
ence to maintain solidarity with Jesus. The space of the throne room and the
space of the tabernacle define the understanding of Jesus’s identity and status,
as well as his work. A separate project would take up the prominence of allu-
sions to building, construction, and architecture in Hebrews; it is enough to
6 John Maxwell Vonder Bruegge, “Mapping Galilee: Josephus, Luke, and John in Light of
Critical Geography” (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 2011); Carla Sulzbach, “From Here to Eternity
and Back: Locating Sacred Spaces and Temple Imagery in the Book of Daniel” (Ph.D. diss.,
McGill University, 2009).
7 Ellen Bradshaw Aitken, “The Hero in the Epistle to the Hebrews: Jesus as an Ascetic Model,”
in Early Christian Voices: In Texts, Traditions, and Symbols (ed. David H. Warren, Ann Graham
Brock, and David W. Pao; BINS 66; Boston: Brill, 2003), 179–88; Aitken, “Portraying the
Temple in Stone and Text: The Arch of Titus and the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in Hebrews:
Contemporary Methods—New Insights (ed. Gabriella Gelardini; BINS 75; Leiden: Brill,
2005), 131–48 (also published in STRev 45 [2002]: 135–51; an earlier version appeared in
Religious Texts and Material Contexts [ed. Jacob Neusner and James F. Strange; Lanham, Md.:
University Press of America, 2001], 73–88); Aitken, “An Early Christian Homerizon? Decoy,
Direction, and Doxology,” in The Homerizon: Conceptual Interrogations in Homeric Studies,
ed. Richard Armstrong and Casey Dué, Classics@: An Online Journal 3 (2006), http://chs
.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/1307; Aitken, “Reading Hebrews in Flavian Rome,” USQR 59
(2005): 82–85.
note them here as part of the materiality of space. We have not only spaces
(that is, sites that are configured conceptually) but also space through which,
toward which, and into which people, including Jesus, move. I will take up first
the key “spaces” of Hebrews, and turn secondly to the itineraries according to
which people move within and among these spaces.
In observing the principal “spaces” of Hebrews, I begin with the space of
the heavenly enthronement. One of Hebrews’ first assertions about the “Son,”
Jesus, in its opening exordium, is that “When he had made purification for sins,
he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high” (1:3).8 It is clear that
this seat is the place where the Son is now, the place from which he reigns
and shares in the reign of the “Father,” the place where he is acclaimed as Son,
crowned with glory and honor, and worshiped by angels (1:5–9; 2:5–9). I note
here the social practices that take place in this space, practices of enthrone-
ment, acclamation, coronation, and worship—all of which are associated with
imperial rule. This space is represented thus as ritual space, one of the key rit-
ual spaces that is displayed in Hebrews’ argument. It is also, although it is not
emphasized, the place of the Son’s origin: the space from which Jesus proceeds
and to which he returns. Or to adopt the phrasing of Heb 1:6, it is the place from
which God “brings the firstborn into the world (οἰκουμένη).” This aspect will be
important when we consider the heavenly-earthly itinerary. I would further
note that the space of the heavenly enthronement is “on high” (ἐν ὑψηλοῖς, 1:3)
but suggest that Hebrews emphasizes “on high” less in terms of physically ver-
tical dimensions and more in terms of conceptual status—the place of honor
and glory, the antithesis to shame and “being made lesser” (ἠλαττωμένον, 2:9).
Another space that functions prominently in Hebrews is the space of the
tabernacle, the σκηνή, of which the “sanctuary” and the “holy of holies” are
parts. As is well known, Hebrews appropriates the scriptural design of the
tabernacle in order to conceptualize a heavenly tabernacle.9 By use of a typo-
logical argument, the scriptural tabernacle—what Exodus posits as a physi-
cal reality made by Moses according to a divinely given architectural plan—is
a “sketch and shadow” (ὑποδείγματι καὶ σκιᾷ, 8:5) of the heavenly one. Thus
Hebrews presupposes the reality of the tabernacle, a reality that I would char-
acterize as a “narratival” or “scriptural” reality, but real, from the perspective of
Hebrews, only as sketch and shadow.
8 Biblical translations in this essay are taken from the NRSV, sometimes with alteration.
9 Craig R. Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 36; New
York: Doubleday, 2001), 98–99. On Jewish and early Christian concepts of the true temple
or heavenly temple in this period and its relationship to the earthly temple in Jerusalem,
see Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia;
Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 222–24.
198 Aitken
In his study of the tabernacle narratives in Exodus, Mark George explains

that spatial practice for the tabernacle is constituted by a “series of related
social actions and practices” that “express the material nature of tabernacle
space, its social character, and reflect Priestly ideas about shaping and con-
trolling social actions and behavior.”10 Among these practices are the tab-
ernacle inventory and the ways in which people move through the space.11
These are notable concerns for Hebrews too. The inventory of the parts of the
tabernacle—and note that each part is itself called σκηνή—is quite specific in
its details:
For a σκηνή was constructed, the first one, in which were the lampstand,
the table, and the bread of the Presence; which is called the sanctuary
(Ἅγια). Behind the second curtain was a σκηνή called the Holy of Holies
(Ἅγια Ἁγίων). In it stood the golden altar of incense and the ark of the
covenant overlaid on all sides with gold, in which there were a golden urn
holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, and the tablets of the
covenant; above it were the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy
seat. (Heb 9:2–5)
The discourse goes on to speak of motion through this space by the priests
and the high priest. This is a spatial practice, but insofar as it relates to the
status and privilege of certain members of the society, it also pertains to what
is called “tabernacle conceptual space”12 in George’s analysis: “the priests go
continually into the first σκηνή to carry out their ritual duties; but only the
high priest goes into the second, and he but once a year, and not without
taking the blood that he offers for himself and for the sins committed unin-
tentionally by the people” (9:6–7). Spatial practices are here combined with
conceptual meaning, focused on the significance of the “blood” taken into the
second σκηνή. The blood, which is specified in Heb 9:12 as the blood of goats
and calves, is, of course, a further item among the spatial practices and is con-
ceptualized as sacrificial blood.
Closely related to the “narrativally real” space of the tabernacle but clearly
distinguished from it is what Hebrews regards as the “true” tabernacle: “Now
the main point in what we are saying is this: we have such a high priest, one
who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens, a
minister of the sanctuary and the true tabernacle that the Lord, and not any
10 George, Israel’s Tabernacle, 56.

11 George, Israel’s Tabernacle, 59–63 (inventory); 47 and 74–75 (movement).
mortal, has set up” (8:1–2). This space becomes the locus of Jesus’s sacrificial
offering, that is, where he offers the blood of sacrifice as high priest, and there-
fore in Hebrews it is one of the most important spaces of symbolic representa-
tion. I note the merging of representative places evident in this passage: the
destination of the high priest is also the place of enthronement signaled in
the opening of Hebrews; the high priest is thus also enthroned ruler and Son.
Some of the practices associated with both spaces are likewise merged, as in
Heb 10:12, “But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins,
‘he sat down at the right hand of God,’ and since then has been waiting ‘until
his enemies would be made a footstool for his feet.’ ” In line with the material
that Jörg Rüpke has analyzed in his essay for the present volume,13 I would pro-
pose that this particular merger of high-priestly sacrifice preceding enthrone-
ment in the company of the god is already available in the cultural repertoire
of Hebrews from the spatial practices associated in the Flavian period with
the Capitoline temple in Rome. When we turn to examining the itineraries of
Hebrews, moreover, we shall see that there is a significant divergence in spatial
practice between the shadow tabernacle and the real tabernacle, a difference
that can be explained best in relation to the practices of the Roman triumph
and the Capitoline cult.
Attention to Jesus’s sacrifice alerts us to a further space indicated at the very
end of Hebrews—the space “outside the city gate” and “outside the camp”:
We have an altar from which those who officiate in the tabernacle have
no right to eat. For the bodies of those animals whose blood is brought
into the sanctuary by the high priest as a sacrifice for sin are burned out-
side the camp. Therefore Jesus also suffered outside the city gate in order
to sanctify the people by his own blood. Let us then go to him outside the
camp and bear the abuse he endured. For here we have no eternal city,
but we are looking for the city that is to come. (13:10–14)
In this passage the contrast between the shadow tabernacle and the sacrificial
space posited by Hebrews is sharp: whereas the Exodus tradition sets up the
tabernacle within the camp (indeed the camp is defined by the tabernacle),
Hebrews sets up the “true” tabernacle outside the camp, in a space conceptu-
alized in terms of exteriority, shame, impurity, and abuse. This is the space of
Hebrews’ “altar,” the place of solidarity with Jesus, and the destination toward
13 Jörg Rüpke, “Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian Innovations in the Concept of
Priesthood and Their Reflections in the Treatise ‘To the Hebrews,’ ” 109–32.
200 Aitken
which the audience is exhorted to “go.”14 If we think with the scriptural pat-
tern of the arrangement of the tabernacle in Exodus, then we may observe
that this altar is in the outer sanctuary, not the holy of holies: we have then an
overlaying of this tabernacle with the space outside the camp, as the place of
assembling with Jesus prior to “entering” with Jesus into the holy of holies—
but here I anticipate the discussion of itineraries. I have argued in an earlier
essay that this space “outside” also corresponds to the assembling for sacrifices
“outside the city gate,” that is, the pomerium or sacred boundary of Rome that
was a stage in the triumphing general or ruler’s itinerary of return to Rome in
the rituals of the triumph.15
These verses also draw our attention to yet another locale, “the city,” as the
object of expectation: “For here we have no eternal city, but we are looking for
the city that is to come” (13:14). Hebrews says relatively little about this city,
although it is hinted at earlier in the catalog of heroes in Heb 11 and identified
with the “homeland” (πατρίς) that the ancestors of faith sought:
They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for
people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a home-
land. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind,
they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a
better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to
be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them. (11:13–16)
Likewise in Heb 12, the destination of the people’s journey is identified as a

city:
But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the
heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to
the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God the
judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus,
the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a
better word than the blood of Abel. (12:22–24)
14 See the discussion in Ellen Bradshaw Aitken, Jesus’ Death in Early Christian Memory: The
Poetics of the Passion (NTOA/SUNT 53; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht; Fribourg:
Academic Press, 2004), 158–61.
15 Aitken, “Portraying the Temple,” 139, 142.
This city space, which has earlier been contrasted with the mountain of Moses’s
revelation, is represented in terms of heavenly assembly, cultic activity, and the
presence of Jesus. I thus propose that just as the place of enthronement and
the place of sacrificial offering have been merged, here the city encompasses
regnal power and cultic practice. It is also the place of assembly for all those
affiliated with Jesus by faith and “brought in” through his sacrificial action.
The emplacement of Jesus within these spaces is critical to Hebrews’ argu-
ment and to the discourse’s deployment of spatial poetics. We have noted
already the enthronement of Jesus, the entrance of Jesus as high priest into the
“true” tabernacle, the presence of his blood as one of the spatial practices of
this true tabernacle, and the emplacement of Jesus—in particular, his suffer-
ing and abuse—outside the camp and city gate as the “altar.” (I would suggest
that here we have metonymy whereby “altar” stands for the presence of the
suffering Jesus.) In Heb 10:19–20, Jesus’s body is further emplaced as part of
the construction of the true tabernacle, that is, as one of the spatial practices:
“Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the sanc-
tuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us
through the curtain (that is, through his flesh) . . .” Here Jesus’s flesh is explic-
itly identified with the curtain between the outer sanctuary and the inner
holy of holies; I would argue that “flesh” is metonymic of his suffering (as in
Heb 5:7–10, which evokes narrative traditions of his passion).16 Jesus’s body
is thus emplaced as part of the materiality of the true tabernacle. Hence his
utterance of Ps 40:6–8 (39:7–9) in Heb 10:5–7 is significant in that it not only
announces his “arrival” to do God’s will but also emphasizes the “body pre-
pared” in place of the sacrificial offerings of the Israelite cult. In other words,
this body prepared replaces a complex of spatial practices, not only the “stuff”
of sacrifice (blood, flesh) but also the material out of which the true tabernacle
is assembled.
I turn now to the itineraries at work in Hebrews’ argument. It is well estab-
lished that Hebrews makes use of a pattern of descent and ascent, or debase-
ment and exaltation, in order to establish the journey of the Son, Jesus.17 This
pattern is employed to speak of Jesus’s being brought by the Father into the
world (οἰκουμένη, 1:6), to a status “lower” or “lesser” than the angels for a
short while, into a situation of solidarity with the sufferings of humanity in
16 On the traditions underlying how Heb 5:7–10 speaks of the passion of Jesus, see Aitken,
Jesus’ Death, 143–48.
17 Attridge, Hebrews, 40–47; Koester, Hebrews, 187–88; Kenneth L. Schenck, “Keeping His
Appointment: Creation and Enthronement in Hebrews,” JSNT 66 (1997): 91–117.
202 Aitken
flesh and blood, and then returning to the heavenly place of enthronement,
honor, and glory, bringing in his train a humanity liberated from sin and the
power of death. This itinerary has as its final destination the complex of over-
laid spaces of regnal power and cultic assembly that was investigated earlier.
As we have seen, the goal of Jesus’s heroic journey of return is ultimately city
space. His arrival into the heavenly sanctuary is critical not only for his accla-
mation as Son sharing in regnal power, but also for its implications regard-
ing a liberated humanity. To this end, the second part of his itinerary is also
the itinerary for the inscribed audience: by “looking to Jesus” (ἀφορῶντες εἰς . . .
Ἰησοῦν, 12:2) and maintaining solidarity with Jesus in faith, they are enabled
to make use of the “way” (10:19–20) that has been opened up for them into
the heavenly places.18 Thus, when Jesus enters into the space of enthrone-
ment and acclamation, he makes formal ritual presentation of the liberated
“children”: “Here I am, and the children whom God has given me” (2:13). There
is a parallel here to the practice by which the triumphator’s freedpersons fol-
lowed him in the triumphal procession, entering into the cultic space of sac-
rifice and acclamation of regnal power.19 The result is a set of spatial practices
for the true tabernacle that are in contrast to those of the shadow tabernacle.
Rather than the high priest entering alone, the audience’s itinerary is mapped
onto Jesus’s itinerary, so that the holy of holies becomes a highly populated
space, full not only of the assembly of the angels, but also of all those whom
Jesus has liberated and who “hold fast” (κατέχω, 10:23) by faith to Jesus through-
out this itinerary of return. It makes sense, then, that the destination of the
journey is a city space. It is almost as though what was increasingly private and
intimate space for a few has been turned inside out in order to encompass an
entire populace of the faithful.
The story of the wilderness journey of Israel is a further itinerary inform-
ing Hebrews’ discourse.20 Through the use of Psalm 95 (94) starting in Heb 3,
Hebrews sets up the negative example of the Israelites who were not able to
“enter into” God’s rest because of their disobedience in the wilderness. The
goal of the wilderness journey is represented as “rest” (κατάπαυσις) rather than
as the land of promise, but it remains spatial, as a space into which one enters
or not. The possibility of entering into God’s rest is, according to Hebrews,
18 Aitken, “Hero in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 182–83.

19 Aitken, “Portraying the Temple,” 144. See further Harold W. Attridge, “Liberating Death’s
Captives: Reconsideration of an Early Christian Myth,” in Gnosticism and the Early
Christian World (ed. James E. Goehring et al.; Sonoma, Calif.: Polebridge, 1990), 103–15.
20 Ernst Käsemann, Das wandernde Gottesvolk: Eine Untersuchung zum Hebräerbrief
(4th ed.; FRLANT 55; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1961).
opened by the sacrificial action of Jesus; that is, the “problem” of sin that pre-
vents participation in the itinerary of entrance is dealt with by Jesus’s offering
of himself, which opens a gateway of opportunity for entrance.
In this way the several itineraries are mapped onto one another.21 We have
already seen how the itinerary of the high priest’s entrance into the tabernacle
has been mapped onto the itinerary of descent and ascent. We can now observe
that the itinerary of the wilderness journey and the entrance into the land of
promise, “God’s rest,” is likewise overlaid, with the result that the destination
is multiply represented. The overlaying of a geography in which the itinerary is
a space of representation of disobedience and the overcoming of its negative
consequences (that is, “dealing with sin”) contributes to the representation of
Jesus’s action as a sacrificial remedy for sin. The result of these overlapping
itineraries is a semiotically complex space traversed by Jesus and the audience,
wherein the various topographies of representation are reciprocally inform-
ing one another. The temporal tensions within Hebrews mean that these con-
figurations of space are affirmed as the situation that exists because of Jesus’s
actions and are also used rhetorically to motivate the audience in relation to
these maps. The hearers and readers are exhorted to locate themselves in affili-
ation and solidarity with Jesus, and thus by their loyalty to be caught up in the
itinerary that will lead to entrance into the city of glory and honor.
Two further itineraries function rhetorically to reinforce this set of overlaid
maps. The first is the itinerary structuring the catalogue in Heb 11 and articu-
lated most fully through the story of Abraham and his sons, that of setting out
for a promised land and living there “as in a foreign land, living in tents” (11:9).
Abraham further “looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose archi-
tect and builder is God” (11:10). This alien status is characterized spatially in the
summary of the “lesser” heroes: “They wandered in deserts and mountains,
and in caves and holes in the ground” (11:38). Hebrews’ statement that none of
these ancestors received “what was promised, since God had provided some-
thing better so that they would not, without us, be made perfect” (11:39–40)
locates them within an itinerary shared with the audience, dependent upon
the audience’s affiliation with Jesus, in order to gain entrance into the “land”
of promise. The second, minor itinerary follows: the metaphor of the race
that the audience is to run with perseverance, looking to Jesus as the ἀρχηγός,
the “one who leads the way” (12:1–2). The metaphor continues a few verses
21 George W. MacRae, “Heavenly Temple and Eschatology in the Letter to the Hebrews,”
Semeia 12 (1978): 190. See also Aelred Cody, Heavenly Sanctuary and Liturgy in the Epistle
to the Hebrews: The Achievement of Salvation in the Epistle’s Perspectives (St. Meinrad, Ind.:
Grail, 1960), 1–2.
204 Aitken
later, as the audience is encouraged to make τροχιὰς ὀρθὰς (“straight paths” or

“running tracks,”22 12:13) for their feet, and it will be recalled that Jesus was
previously called the πρόδρομος (“forerunner,” 6:20). The spatial practices of the
racecourse are obvious here, but the race is made the space of representation
of loyalty and alignment with Jesus. This more contained itinerary nonetheless
functions as part of the “encouragement” for maintaining the spatial practices
necessary for the efficacy of the larger itineraries as the audience negotiates
this semiotically complex topography.
The Remapping of Ritual Spaces in Hebrews
Pulling these several sets of observations together, I wish to make a series of

proposals on space and the spatial poetics of Hebrews in order to suggest a
larger reading of Hebrews in terms of the remapping of ritual space. The first
is to emphasize the multiple overlaying of itineraries and destinations that are
built up throughout the discourse, as we have seen. These not only create the
semiotically complex “map,” but also result in the multidimensional identity of
Jesus as Son, ruler, and high priest, as well as in the polyvalence of Jesus’s work
in relation to humanity. Attention to spatial aspects illumines the ways in which
these various dimensions mutually and reciprocally inform the Christology
and soteriology of Hebrews. Here we may also highlight Hebrews’ creativity in
appropriating narratives and spatial practices out of the scriptures of Israel in
order to construct new spaces of representation within the imaginary of the
discourse. Along with these new spaces of representation come new kinds of
social significance, as we might expect from reading Lefebvre;23 a reconfigured
status for humanity as well as a reconfigured heritage and a distinct priesthood
accompany and are enabled by the new spaces of representation.
Second, the process of remapping, particularly of the space of the taber-
nacle and the itinerary of entrance into the holy of holies, results in a certain
“erasure” of the narratively real space. I mean erasure in terms of reduction to
shadow status, whereby, as with an epigraphic erasure, what was previously
there remains visible to some extent; the legitimacy of the new presupposes
what has been erased, delegitimated, and disempowered. In other words,
Hebrews undertakes significant symbolic acquisition of the spatial practices
associated with the tabernacle in Exodus. I quote Mark George here in his use
22 Koester, Hebrews, 530. As Koester observes (Hebrews, 534), it is possible to read all of
Heb 12:1–17 within the framework of the footrace and other athletic endeavors.
23 See the discussion in George, Israel’s Tabernacle, 27.
of Stephen Greenblatt’s categories: symbolic acquisition occurs “when some

social practice, literary form, or other social energy is claimed from one con-
text and used in another. This process differs from appropriation because some
sort of exchange occurs in the process, whereby aspects of that practice, form,
or energy is given up.”24 I highlight this point because I find it more precise
and productive than the category of supersession. I would also argue, though it
goes beyond the scope of this essay, that in parallel to the symbolic acquisition
of the tabernacle, Hebrews also exercises a symbolic acquisition of the spatial
practices of the Roman triumph and the Capitoline temple cult—and even
that the former acquisition acts as a decoy with respect to the latter, which is
the acquisition perhaps more immediately important to the audience.25
Third, I propose that Hebrews undertakes the “reassembling” of the taber-
nacle in a radically new space with different material and personnel, that is,
with different spatial practices. One of the essential spatial practices of the tab-
ernacle, as George points out, is its portability, for its tent-construction means
that it can be reassembled wherever the people of God find themselves: “The
tabernacle is designed to be disassembled and broken down into manageable
pieces, packed up, and transported to a new location, where it can be reassem-
bled (i.e., reproduced) and function once again as Israel’s social space.”26 The
reassembling of the tabernacle takes place in and through the text of Hebrews
in two ways. First, concern for its inventory, materiality, personnel, and prac-
tices is expressed in stunning detail especially in Heb 9; as in the scriptures
of Israel, the itemization of the spatial practices of the tabernacle functions
to reproduce or reassemble the tabernacle in the discursive space of the text.
Second, in consigning this tabernacle to the status of shadow (or architectural
model), Hebrews then assembles or reproduces the “true” tabernacle in rela-
tion to the spatial practices having to do with Jesus. Indeed Heb 8:2 is explicit
about this assembling: “the true tabernacle that the Lord, and not any mortal,
has set up (ἔπηξεν),” where the verb πήγνυμι has the sense of pitching or assem-
bling a tent. As we have seen, the materiality of this tabernacle includes the
flesh and blood of Jesus, as his body is emplaced within it.
24 George, Israel’s Tabernacle, 40–41. Greenblatt’s categories may be found in Stephen
Greenblatt, Shakespearean Negotiations: The Circulation of Social Energy in Renaissance
England (The New Historicism: Studies in Cultural Poetics 4; Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1988), 9–11. Writing with reference to Shakespearean drama in Elizabethan
and Jacobean society, he classifies the ways that cultural materials are exchanged or nego-
tiated socially as “appropriation,” “purchase,” and “symbolic acquisition.”
25 Aitken, “An Early Christian Homerizon?”; Aitken, “Portraying the Temple.”
206 Aitken
My fourth proposal stems from asking what the “real” is with which Hebrews
works, or to borrow the terminology of Soja, the Firstspace, with its focus
on how “real” space is perceived.27 I suggest that for Hebrews, Firstspace is
the scripturally “real” narrated tabernacle with its conceptualizations and
its symbolic representations. It is this that is reproduced, and thus Hebrews
takes its place among other narratival reassemblings and reproductions of the
tabernacle in the literature of early Judaism and early Christianity. Moreover,
again to follow Soja, this “real” is also the basis for an imaginary that is spun
out discursively through the overlaying of itineraries and destinations, with
their various reconceptualizations and creation of new representations; this
is Secondspace. But for Soja there is “an-Other” beyond the binary: Thirdspace
is “real-and-imagined.”28 As John Vonder Bruegge writes, “When the ‘real’ of
Firstspace and the ‘imagined’ of Secondspace collide, however, they are capa-
ble of producing something that is more than the sum of its parts.”29 Is the
production of a “true” tabernacle and an eternal city in Hebrews what Soja
would then call Thirdspace? Or is it rather a newly imagined Secondspace that
in turn collides with another “real” space or Firstspace? I emphasize that my
use here of Soja’s theoretical categories to illuminate Hebrews is somewhat
of an experiment, awaiting the insights of those more familiar with his work.
As is well known, Hebrews thinks with the tabernacle of the scriptures of
Israel and not at all with the Jerusalem temple. There are no signs on the sur-
face of the text that Hebrews knows the Jerusalem temple, whether as stand-
ing before 70 ce or as destroyed.30 I wish to propose, however, that Hebrews
knows this temple in rather different form, namely, in its symbolic acquisi-
tion by the Flavian rulers after its destruction in the First Jewish War. As we
know from Josephus’s account of the triumph following this war (B.J. 7.123–62)
and from the reliefs on the Arch of Titus, Vespasian and Titus emphasized the
furnishings of the Jerusalem temple within the ritual of the triumph, on the
arch itself, and in their installation within the newly constructed Temple of
Peace adjacent to the Roman Forum. But what is striking is that this collection
of temple furnishings corresponds closely to an inventory of the tabernacle
(and thereby also to the inventory of Heb 9), or at least so it would appear
to anyone familiar with the scriptural reality of the tabernacle. In addition,
27 Soja, Thirdspace, 74–75. It will be recalled that Firstspace in Soja corresponds to Lefebvre’s
concept of “perceived space.”
28 Soja, Thirdspace, 11, 31.
29 Vonder Bruegge, “Mapping Galilee,” 100–101.
30 Attridge, Hebrews, 8; Koester, Hebrews, 52–53; Erich Gräßer, An die Hebräer (3 vols.; EKKNT
17; Zurich: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–97), 1:25.
the fiscus Judaicus diverted the revenue of the Jerusalem temple to the rebuild-
ing and support of the Capitoline temple in Rome. Moreover, the entire
cityscape of the center of Rome was renovated by the Flavians to monumen-
talize their Judean victory as the legitimation of their reign. Within the logic
of Roman religion, what the Flavians achieved through these activities was a
symbolic acquisition of the Jerusalem temple, “reproducing” it in the city space
of Rome. However, to those familiar with the portability of the tabernacle and
with its spatial practices as inscribed in the scriptures of Israel, it could also be
seen as a reproduction and reassembly of the tabernacle in the city of Rome,
and the means employed would have signaled to them that the Flavians’ repro-
duction had been illegitimate.
The response of Hebrews is to undertake its own reproduction and reas-
sembling of the tabernacle—in heavenly dimensions, as the true tabernacle
in an eternal city. The result is a counterspace to the space of the city of Rome
shaped by the monumentalization of imperial ideology: like the Roman city
space, this space is royal and high priestly, with father and son as a regnal pair.
In other words, when Hebrews assembles the true tabernacle, it presupposes
the “real” of the Jerusalem temple, not as it existed in Jerusalem, but as it was
destroyed, appropriated, and transported to Rome by the Flavians.
Conclusion
Elsewhere I have characterized Hebrews as “cultivating versatility,” particularly

in an ethic of solidarity with the shamed and dispossessed, but also in terms
of fostering new ways to read the ideologically monumentalized cityscape of
Rome.31 Hebrews maps fresh representations, reconfigured scriptural memo-
ries and imaginaries, onto this urban space. It thus works with the lived space
of its audience, enabling a different “reading” of its practices and representa-
tions. In Soja’s theoretical categories, this is Thirdspace, the real-and-imagined
lived space of the inhabitants. It follows that Thirdspace “dispenses with
the notion that space is unpolitical or a thing that is ‘naively given.’ Rather
than serving as the passive backdrop or fixed stage for the historical narra-
tive, Thirdspace involves creative processes that produce set and scenery.”32
31 Aitken, “An Early Christian Homerizon?”; Aitken, “Wily, Wise, and Worldly: Instruction
and the Formation of Character in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in The Changing Face of
Judaism, Christianity, and Other Greco-Roman Religions in Antiquity (ed. Ian H. Henderson
and Gerbern S. Oegema; JSHRZ-St 2; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2006), 294–305.
32 Vonder Bruegge, “Mapping Galilee,” 101.
208 Aitken
Soja emphasizes this political dimension: “a new domain, a space of collec-

tive resistance, a Thirdspace of political choice that is also a meeting place for
all peripheralized or marginalized ‘subjects’ wherever they may be located.
In this politically charged space, a radically new and different form of citi-
zenship (citoyenneté) can be defined and realized.”33 By constructing such a
Thirdspace, Hebrews deploys a conceptual reimagining of the ritual, sacrifi-
cial, and monumental space of the city of Rome in order to create a compelling
vision of “the city that is to come” in place of a city that claims to be “enduring”
and “eternal.”
Bibliography
Testament 17. Zurich: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–97.
Other Literature
Aitken, Ellen Bradshaw. “An Early Christian Homerizon? Decoy, Direction, and
Doxology.” In The Homerizon: Conceptual Interrogations in Homeric Studies. Edited
by Richard Armstrong and Casey Dué. Classics@: An Online Journal 3 (2006). http://
chs.harvard.edu/CHS/article/display/1307.
———. “The Hero in the Epistle to the Hebrews: Jesus as an Ascetic Model.”
Pages 179–88 in Early Christian Voices: In Texts, Traditions, and Symbols. Edited by
David H. Warren, Ann Graham Brock, and David W. Pao. Biblical Interpretation
Series 66. Boston: Brill, 2003.
———. Jesus’ Death in Early Christian Memory: The Poetics of the Passion. Novum
Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus / Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testaments 53.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht; Fribourg: Academic Press, 2004.
———. “Portraying the Temple in Stone and Text: The Arch of Titus and the Epistle to
the Hebrews.” Pages 131–48 in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights.
Edited by Gabriella Gelardini. Biblical Interpretation Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
Previously published in Sewanee Theological Review 45 (2002): 135–51; an earlier
33 Soja, Thirdspace, 35.

version appeared in Religious Texts and Material Contexts (ed. Jacob Neusner and
James F. Strange; Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 2001), 73–88.
———. “Reading Hebrews in Flavian Rome.” Union Seminary Quarterly Review 59
(2005): 82–85.
———. “Wily, Wise, and Worldly: Instruction and the Formation of Character in the
Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages 294–305 in The Changing Face of Judaism, Christianity,
and Other Greco-Roman Religions in Antiquity. Edited by Ian H. Henderson and
Gerbern S. Oegema. Jüdische Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit, Studien 2.
Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2006.
Attridge, Harold W. “Liberating Death’s Captives: Reconsideration of an Early Christian
Myth.” Pages 103–15 in Gnosticism and the Early Christian World. Edited by James E.
Goehring, Charles W. Hedrick, and Jack T. Sanders, with Hans Dieter Betz. Forum
Fascicles 2. Sonoma, Calif.: Polebridge, 1990.
Cody, Aelred. Heavenly Sanctuary and Liturgy in the Epistle to the Hebrews: The
Achievement of Salvation in the Epistle’s Perspectives. St. Meinrad, Ind.: Grail, 1960.
George, Mark K. Israel’s Tabernacle as Social Space. Ancient Israel and Its Literature 2.
Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2009.
Greenblatt, Stephen. Shakespearean Negotiations: The Circulation of Social Energy in
Renaissance England. The New Historicism: Studies in Cultural Poetics 4. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1988.
Käsemann, Ernst. Das wandernde Gottesvolk: Eine Untersuchung zum Hebräerbrief.
4th ed. Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments 55.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1961.
Lefebvre, Henri. La production de l’espace. 4th ed. Paris: Anthropos, 2000.
MacRae, George W. “Heavenly Temple and Eschatology in the Letter to the Hebrews.”
Semeia 12 (1978): 179–99.
Rüpke, Jörg. “Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian Innovations in the Concept of
Priesthood and Their Reflections in the Treatise ‘To the Hebrews.’ ” Pages 109–32.
Schenck, Kenneth L. “Keeping His Appointment: Creation and Enthronement in
Hebrews.” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 66 (1997): 91–117.
Soja, Edward W. Thirdspace: Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-Imagined
Places. Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell, 1996.
Sulzbach, Carla. “From Here to Eternity and Back: Locating Sacred Spaces and Temple
Imagery in the Book of Daniel.” Ph.D. diss., McGill University, 2009.
Vonder Bruegge, John Maxwell. “Mapping Galilee: Josephus, Luke, and John in Light of
Critical Geography.” Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 2011.
Charting “Outside the Camp” with Edward W. Soja:
Critical Spatiality and Hebrews 13
Gabriella Gelardini
Introduction
My engagement with critical spatiality originated in a series of joint sessions

hosted by the Book of Hebrews in Context Group together with the sec-
tions Space, Place, and Lived Experience in Antiquity and Sacrifice, Cult and
Atonement at the annual meetings of the Society of Biblical Literature and the
American Academy of Religion in 2011 and 2012. Collaboration was aimed at
introducing recent cultural theory of critical spatiality to Hebrews scholarship.
At the first joint session, in his introductory paper entitled “Critical Spatiality
and the Book of Hebrews,” Jon L. Berquist expertly applied a theory devised
by Edward W. Soja (see below, pp. 215–17), one of the key thinkers on space
and place,1 to the Book of Hebrews.2 In Berquist’s reading two central spaces
emerged, the sanctum and Christ’s body. At the same time, however, Berquist
observed that the author described these central spaces as missing. Only after
almost thirteen chapters was he able to detect the one extant locus in the book,
namely, “outside the camp/gate” (Heb 13:11–13).3 Scholars thus far have not yet
identified the space “outside the camp” beyond reasonable doubt. Given vari-
ous possibilities of spatial identification, scholars have perhaps jumped all too
rashly to interpreting this reference socially, suggesting more or less unani-
mously—and perhaps rightly so—that it denotes social marginalization and
alien status. The shortfall in spatial analysis seems associated not least with the
overall exegetical problem that ch. 13 poses for Hebrews scholarship.
In this chapter, a revised version of the paper I gave at the subsequent annual
meeting in 2013, I demonstrate how rewarding spatial interpretation can be,
in this case in combination with intertextuality. This introduction is followed
* I am grateful to Dr. Mark Kyburz for proofreading this essay.

1 Phil Hubbard and Rob Kitchin, eds., Key Thinkers on Space and Place (2nd ed.; Los Angeles:
Sage, 2011), 380–86.
2 See Jon L. Berquist’s contribution in this volume, “Critical Spatiality and the Book of
Hebrews,” 181–93.
3 Berquist, “Critical Spatiality,” 189. For an alternative “cartography” of Hebrews spatial poetics,
see Ellen Bradshaw Aitken’s contribution in this volume, “The Body of Jesus outside the
Eternal City: Mapping Ritual Space in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 194–209.

Critical Spatiality And Hebrews 13 211
by an excursion into scholarship on Heb 13 and then by a brief presentation

of methodology. The section “The Text of Hebrews 13: Overlapping Maps”
analyzes Heb 13, focusing on structure, context, and spatial aspects of the
text, with the following section considering what I believe to be Heb 13’s pri-
mary intertext, namely Exod 32–33, once again highlighting spatial aspects.
Under the heading “How the Primary Intertext, Exodus 32–33, Reinterprets
Hebrews 13 Spatially” I trace the author’s interpretation of spaces in Hebrews
via the primary intertext and offer some variant readings of that primary inter-
text, drawn from Targumim as well as from the works of Philo of Alexandria,
which, together with the preceding results, shed new interpretative light on a
chapter widely considered to be a crux interpretum.4 The conclusion reviews
the main findings and identifies opportunities for further research in this area.
Hebrews 13 in Scholarship: Riddles about a Key Space
The challenge that Heb 13 poses to scholarship is not based on the spatial refer-
ence “outside the camp” alone. The sheer number of questions—particularly
in relation to the central section 13:7–19—obstructs its smooth interpretation.
Is Heb 13 an integral and authentic part of the text? What is its structure; what
is its function? Who are the “leaders” to whom reference is made in vv. 7, 17–19,
and 24? And what is the referent of the “strange teachings” in v. 9? What is
the nature of the “altar” in v. 10, and who are “those who officiate in the tent”?
Importantly, where is “outside the camp/gate” in vv. 11–13, where is “here,” the
place with “no lasting city,” and finally, which is the “city to come” in v. 14?
The integrity of the Book of Hebrews has long been questioned. Up until
the 1990s, scholars considered ch. 13 (or parts of it)5 to be a secondary addition.
Since then, however, opinion has shifted.6 Based on the conviction that the final
chapter shows thematic continuity with the preceding text, the questioning
4 See, for instance, Helmut Koester, “ ‘Outside the Camp’: Hebrews 13.9–14,” HTR 55 (1962): 299–
315, esp. p. 299, where he claims that this section is “among the most difficult passages of the
entire New Testament.”
5 See, for instance, Gert J. Steyn, “The Ending of Hebrews Reconsidered,” ZNW 103 (2012): 235–
53, where Steyn supports the older hypothesis that Heb 13:22–25 is a later addition; similarly
Régis Burnet, “La finale de l’épître aux Hébreux: une addition alexandrine de la fin du IIe
siècle?” RB 120 (2013): 423–40, with Burnet seeing Heb 13:19, 22–25 originating in Alexandria
and dating back to the end of the second century.
6 As a recent exception to this new paradigm, see, for instance, Alexander J. M. Wedderburn,
“The ‘Letter’ to the Hebrews and its Thirteenth Chapter,” NTS 50 (2004): 390–405, where
Wedderburn contends that Heb 13 not only differs from the preceding chapters, but also
must have been written by a different author.
212 Gelardini
of the literary integrity of Hebrews has virtually ceased.7 Regardless of this

shift in opinion, some scholars nevertheless still maintain that the last
chapter—albeit by the same author as the preceding chapters—exhibits a
considerable decline in quality.8 Others claim that the author deliberately
conceived ch. 13 as an epistolary peroration to a sermon that ends in ch. 12.9
To date no consensus has been reached on the structure of the final chapter.
Scholars have advanced two-,10 three-,11 and four-part12 structures. For many,
the connection with the preceding text is established in Heb 12:28, where the
author summons the audience to “offer to God an acceptable worship,” so that
Heb 13 is perceived as “giving specification to that exhortation.”13
7 See, for instance, Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the
Hebrews (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 384–85; William L. Lane, Hebrews 9–13
(WBC 47b; Dallas: Word, 1991), 495–97; Paul Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews: A
Commentary on the Greek Text (NIGTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 692–93; Erich
Gräßer, An die Hebräer (Hebr 10,19–13,25) (EKKNT 17/3; Zurich: Benziger; Neukirchen-
Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1997), 343–45; and Marie E. Isaacs, “Hebrew 13.9–16 Revisited,”
NTS 43 (1997): 268–84, esp. pp. 270–72.
8 Somewhat acrimoniously, Knut Backhaus (Der Hebräerbrief: Übersetzt und erklärt [RNT;
Regensburg: Pustet, 2009], 459) argues: “Kap. 13 ist ein Stiefkind der Exegese, und zwar
kein geliebtes: Die rednerische Eleganz sinkt dahin, die großen Perspektiven schwinden,
die katalogische Paränese wirkt kleinkariert und autoritär, die Sorge scheint nur auf den
gemeindlichen Binnenraum gerichtet, das Verhältnis zum Redekorpus ist unklar, die
Abfassungsverhältnisse sind umstritten.”
9 See, for instance, Gareth Lee Cockerill, The Epistle to the Hebrews (NICNT; Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2012), 70.
10 See, for instance, Ellingworth (The Epistle to the Hebrews, vi), who divides the chapter into
Heb 13:1–19 and Heb 13:20–25. Quite similarly, Backhaus (Der Hebräerbrief, 11) subdivides
the second section into Heb 13:20–21 and Heb 13:22–25.
11 See, for instance, Attridge (Hebrews, 384), who considers Heb 13:7–19 to be the “central”
section preceded by Heb 13:1–6 and followed by an epistolary ending in Heb 13:20–25.
Quite differently, Craig R. Koester subdivides the chapter into Heb 12:28–13:9, Heb
13:10–21, and an epistolary postscript in Heb 13:22–25 (Hebrews: A New Translation with
Introduction and Commentary [AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001], xi–xii).
12 See, for instance, Lane (Hebrews 9–13, 502–5), who unlike Attridge subdivides the episto-
lary ending in Heb 13:20–21 and Heb 13:22–25 and considers Heb 13:7–19 to be symmetrical
in arrangement: an inclusion in Heb 13:7–9 and 13:17–19, and parallels in Heb 13:10 and
13:15–16 (A), in Heb 13:11 and 13:14 (B), and in Heb 13:12 and 13:13 (C). The same four-part
structure is also followed by Gräßer (An die Hebräer, x). Karrer, by further contrast, sub-
divides the chapter into Heb 13:1–6, Heb 13:7–17, Heb 13:18–21, and Heb 13:22–25 (Der Brief
an die Hebräer: Kapitel 5,11–13,25 [ÖTKNT 20/2; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2008],
9–10).
13 Lane, Hebrews 9–13, 505–7, esp. p. 506.
The “leaders” referred to in Heb 13:7, 17, and 24 are considered unidentifi-
able, as apparently little about their precise status and function can be inferred
from the term itself. Scholars content themselves with the temporal observa-
tion that the former two references point to a past, perhaps already deceased
authority, and the latter to present community leadership. Possibly offsetting
such obscurity, scholars’ attention has been drawn to the various remarks
related to the leaders’ execution of office.14
While various hypothetical reconstructions have been advanced for the
“strange teachings” in Heb 13:9, none of these explanations has gained unani-
mous recognition. With the frequent assertion that the objectionable doc-
trines must be related to food, the particular problem addressed in this verse
has been located, for instance, in abstentions from foods or in dietary restric-
tions as found in the Jewish kashrut or other ascetic regulations. For some,
the issue is participation in pagan cultic meals or the eating of meat sacrificed
to idols, whereas for others, it lies in ritual dining or a Eucharistic theology.15
Backhaus interprets the reference to foods as a mere metaphor and believes
that the term “strange teachings” is a reference to “laws of the flesh,” that is, to
the Levitical cult per se.16
Given that the “altar” that “we have” in Heb 13:10 is contrasted with “those
who officiate in the tent,” that is, with the Levitical priesthood, scholars have
suggested the altar is somehow Christian. Yet the identification of the altar as
a “Christian” location varies and is found, for instance, in Golgotha or in the
cross, the place of Christ’s sacrificial death, or indeed in a place between earth
and heaven, or even in the heavenly altar itself, where the altar is assumed to
refer to some sort of ideal or metaphorical altar. The suggestion that the altar
refers to the Eucharist table has been widely dismissed as anachronistic.17
Similarly, the space “outside the camp” has also been understood variously.
In relation to v. 11, it has been identified as the space outside Israel’s camp
14 See, for instance, Attridge, Hebrews, 390–92, 401–2; Lane, Hebrews 9–13, 526–28, 553–56;
Ellingworth, Epistle to the Hebrews, 701–4, 722–24; Koester, Hebrews, 559, 566–67, 572, 578;
Gräßer, An die Hebräer, 367–70, 393–95; Karrer, Der Brief an die Hebräer, 362–64; and
Backhaus, Der Hebräerbrief, 465–66, 477–78.
15 See, for instance, Attridge, Hebrews, 393–96; Lane, Hebrews 9–13, 530–37; Ellingworth,
Epistle to the Hebrews, 705–8; Koester, Hebrews, 560–61, 566–68; Gräßer, An die Hebräer,
372–74; and Karrer, Der Brief an die Hebräer, 365–67.
16 Backhaus, Der Hebräerbrief, 467–69.
Epistle to the Hebrews, 708–12; Isaacs, “Hebrew 13.9–16 Revisited,” 268–84; Koester,
Hebrews, 568–70; Gräßer, An die Hebräer, 376–82; Karrer, Der Brief an die Hebräer, 367–69;
and Backhaus, Der Hebräerbrief, 469–71.
214 Gelardini
during pilgrimage, or more specifically, as the one locus mentioned in Exod

33:7–11. In relation to v. 12, it has been identified as a space outside Jerusalem
and, more specifically (with reference to passages such as Mark 15:20 and
John 19:20), as Golgotha. In relation to vv. 13–14, it has been identified (with
reference to passages such as Lev 24:14, 23; Num 15:35–36; 1 King 21:13; Luke 7:12;
Acts 7:58; Josephus, B.J. 5.289, 449–451; Vita 420–421; Quintilian, Decl. 274) as
the space outside the city or, more specifically, as Rome, for the author relates
the margins to the place where carcasses were disposed and criminals exe-
cuted. Scholars have taken “outside the camp” as a call to endure shame and to
accept the status of aliens in expectation of the city to come, meaning either
the heavenly or restored earthly Jerusalem.18
This excursion into scholarship on Heb 13 has shown the lack of consensus
on all of these questions. Matters are further complicated by the author’s limp-
ing analogies. For instance, he states in v. 11 that “the bodies of those animals
whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest as a sacrifice for
sin are burned outside the camp,” which he links with v. 12, “therefore Jesus
also suffered outside the city gate in order to sanctify the people by his own
blood.” So far so good, but as the animals are dead when they are brought out-
side, they can no longer suffer. Similarly, the author complicates interpretation
by correlating incongruous contents, and thereby imposes on commentators
the impossible task of figuring out how the statement in v. 9 “do not be car-
ried away by all kinds of strange teachings” might fit with v. 10, where it is said
that “we have an altar from which those who officiate in the tent have no right
to eat.”
Despite these aporias, the plurality of designations for the space “outside
the camp/city” may not be an indication of confusion about its identification.
Instead, that plurality may manifest a multiple contextuality, as this locus
is considered in three different times (desert time, Jesus’s lifetime, and the
addressees’ time), a recurrence that suggests that it is seen by the author as
particularly important.
Epistle to the Hebrews, 712–19; Koester, Hebrews, 570–77; Gräßer, An die Hebräer, 382–88;
Gabriella Gelardini, “Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht”: Der Hebräer, eine Synagogenhomilie zu
Tischa be-Aw (BINS 83; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 371–72; Karrer, Der Brief an die Hebräer, 369–71;
and Backhaus, Der Hebräerbrief, 471–74.
Critical Spatiality: An Apt Methodology
The methodology applied below draws on the work of Edward W. Soja

(b. 1940), a postmodern political geographer and urban planner, whose great-
est contribution to spatial theory and cultural geography is his use of the
work of French Marxist urban sociologist Henri Lefebvre (1901–1991). Soja
advanced Lefebvre’s concept of the spatial triad19 by introducing his own con-
cept of spatial trialectics,20 which consists of Firstspace, Secondspace, and
Thirdspace. This concept took analysis of cultural phenomena to a higher level,
from which literary studies, including biblical studies, have greatly benefitted.
Eric C. Stewart has provided a useful readers’ guide for New Testament schol-
ars explaining not only the whence and whither of spatial theory but also its
use in the analysis of texts, in particular biblical texts.21 Stewart states, “Human
existence is bodily, and human interaction involves interactions between phys-
ical beings in space,” and cites Soja: “Social reality is not just coincidentally
spatial, existing ‘in’ space, it is presuppositionally and ontologically spatial.
There is no unspatialized social reality.”22 Despite such truisms, for much of
the twentieth century studies of social phenomena have neglected the spacial
aspect. However, the past four decades have begun to make up for this neglect,
as studies on space and spatiality have appeared in great number. As these
studies have impacted on biblical scholarship, research on biblical space/
spatiality has also grown rapidly in recent years.23
Reflections on spatiality, as Stewart suggests, initiated with “environmental
determinism,” that is, the idea that the geographical setting of a particular peo-
ple determines both their social and biological characteristics. Environmental
determinism, a leading trend in American geography during the first two
19 See particularly Henri Lefebvre, The Production of Space (trans. by Donald Nicholson-
Smith; Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1991), trans. of Production de l’espace (Paris: Anthropos,
1974).
20 See particularly Edward W. Soja, Thirdspace: Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-
Imagined Places (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1996); for a concise summary of his argument
in German, see Edward W. Soja, “Thirdspace—Die Erweiterung des Geographischen
Blicks,” in Kulturgeographie: Aktuelle Ansätze und Entwicklungen (ed. Hans Gebhardt, Paul
Reuber, and Günter Wolkersdorfer; Heidelberg: Spektrum, 2003), 269–88.
21 Eric C. Stewart, “New Testament Space/Spatiality,” BTB 42, no. 3 (2012): 139–50; see also
James W. Flanagan, “Space,” in Handbook of Postmodern Biblical Interpretation (ed. A. K.
M. Adam; St. Louis: Chalice, 2000), 239–44.
22 Stewart, “New Testament Space/Spatiality,” 139; Soja, Thirdspace, 46.
23 Stewart, “New Testament Space/Spatiality,” 139–40.
216 Gelardini
decades of the twentieth century, was also dominant among ancient geogra-
phers, who likewise considered human personalities to be largely determined
by place of birth or residence. Although space plays a role in shaping identity,
environmental determinism overstates the determinative impact that space
plays in the formation of social identity. Modern geographers and anthropol-
ogists have rejected this approach, not least because of its racist and sexist
underpinnings.24
According to Stewart, a second approach to understanding space within
the social sciences grew out of an increased interest in human agency. The
rejection of environmental determinism led to a conception of space as an
abstract nothingness, both neutral and separate from human social and power
relations. Although this approach had the positive effect of challenging uneth-
ical assumptions, the shift toward human agency subordinated the study and
significance of space. If environmental determinism fell entirely on the side of
nature in the nature/culture divide, this second understanding of space—so
Stewart—fell entirely on the cultural side.25
A third theoretical approach understands space as socially produced in a
process consisting of three steps: classification, communication, and control.
Lefebvre suggested that social space should be considered from three van-
tage points: spatial practice (perceived space), the representation of space
(conceived space), and spaces of representation (lived space).26 Soja uses
the terms Firstspace, Secondspace, and Thirdspace to refer to the same ideas.
Firstspace, in Soja’s understanding, is focused on the real, material world,
whereas Secondspace interprets this reality through “imagined” representa-
tions of spatiality.27 Violations of the spatial practices of Firstspace or the ide-
ologies of Secondspace can occur in any number of ways, largely in what Soja
calls Thirdspace. He refers to Thirdspace as a strategic location from which
to encompass, understand, and potentially transform all spaces. According
to Soja, Thirdspaces are found at the periphery and are the chosen spaces for
struggle, liberation, and emancipation. Thirdspace is the place where, for Soja,
the concrete materiality of Firstspace and the imaginary space of Secondspace
come together in a lived space.28 Stewart notes that it is now common for
24 Stewart, “New Testament Space/Spatiality,” 140.

26 Stewart, “New Testament Space/Spatiality,” 141; Lefebvre, Production of Space, 38–39.
spatial theorists to recognize that space is produced and controlled by social

groups.29
In addressing textual spaces, Stewart suggests that authors describe the
space of their own imagination, even as members of societies in which spa-
tial practice, the representation of space, and representational spaces are in
constant negotiation. However, along with Claudia Camp, Stewart challenges
an all-too-easy association of textual spaces with Secondspace, particularly
because the encoded meanings of textual spaces are not negotiable, but
instead fixed. Potentially, however, narrative literature supplies both a model
for thinking thirdspatially and a site of Thirdspace from which lived firstspacial
and secondspatial possibilities can be abstracted and analyzed. Narrative texts
can produce multiple understandings of any given space, endorsing firstspa-
cial and secondspatial understandings of those spaces while at the same time
challenging their perception and conception. In this sense, texts can challenge
the spatial practice of Firstspace, the ideological projections of Secondspace,
and the lived spaces of Thirdspace.30
The Text of Hebrews 13: Overlapping Maps
My analysis of Heb 13 confirms previous assumptions of a tripartite struc-

ture, such as that of Harold Attridge, which divides the chapter into vv. 1–6,
vv. 7–19, and vv. 20–25. One of Attridge’s main arguments for this division was
the established observation that the boundaries of the central section are indi-
cated by an inclusion formed by references to leaders in vv. 7 and 17.31 This
inclusion in turn points to a symmetrical arrangement of the chapter or parts
of it, as has been noted by various scholars, including myself.32 I provide here a
rough symmetrical arrangement,33 particularly with regard to the central sec-
tion, vv. 7–19, with two objectives in mind: first, to determine a possible cen-
ter, and second, to group identical or similar themes. The latter step not only
reduces themes to a minimum but also brings a hermeneutical principle to
bear, namely, scriptura sacra sui ipsius interpres. For my present purposes, my
arrangement results in the following rough chiasm:

31 Attridge, Hebrews, 390–91.
32 Lane, Hebrews 9–13, 497–505; Gelardini, “Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht,” 352–57.
33 Partly in modification of an earlier proposal made by Gelardini, “Verhärtet eure Herzen
nicht,” 353.
218 Gelardini
A) Heb 13:1–6 God’s will

B) Heb 13:7–9 Leaders
C) Heb 13:10 Sacrificial altar
D) Heb 13:11–12 Outside the camp
D’) Heb 13:13–14 Outside the camp
C’) Heb 13:15–16 Sacrifice
B’) Heb 13:17–19 Leaders
A’) Heb 13:20–25 God’s will
The outline above leads to two conclusions: first, Heb 13 contains partly
complementary and partly contrasting thematic repetitions; second, Heb 13
has a structural-thematic center that is spatial, namely, “outside the camp.”
Hebrews 13:11–12 (D) and Hebrews 13:13–14 (D’)

Let me begin with the central section, D/D’.
Heb 13:11 For the bodies of those animals Heb 13:13 Let us then go to him outside
whose blood is brought into the sanctuary the camp (ἔξω τῆς παρεμβολῆς) and bear
by the high priest as a sacrifice for sin are the reproach he endured.
burned outside the camp (ἔξω τῆς
παρεμβολῆς).
Heb 13:12 Therefore Jesus also suffered Heb 13:14 For here we have no lasting
outside the [city] gate in order to sanctify city, but we are looking for the one that
the people by his own blood. is to come.
The central space “outside the camp/city” is mentioned in three consecutive

verses, 13:11, 12, and 13. Yet the space is a different one on each occasion, the
first somewhere in the desert, the second somewhere outside of Jerusalem,
and the third possibly somewhere beyond Rome, the city where most schol-
ars of Hebrews’ now assume the addressees to have resided. As the first locus
seems to interpret the second, owing to the conjunction “therefore” (διό) in
Heb 13:12, and the second—perhaps along with the first—interprets the third,
owing to the particle “then” (τοίνυν) in Heb 13:12, one can observe what Ellen B.
Aitken in her contribution to this volume describes as “multiple overlapping of
itineraries (or maps).”34 If we employ Soja’s terms, then, we see that the author
34 Aitken, “Body of Jesus,” 203.

defines or redefines the Firstspace outside Jerusalem by means of the liter-

ary Secondspace outside the desert camp, and accordingly seeks to influence
the addressees’ Firstspace in Rome by means of the preceding two spaces in
Thirdspace manner. This technique of spatial overlapping and the reinterpre-
tation of contemporary spaces by means of past spaces is not unique, for it
was also applied by other contemporary authors, particularly in view of cor-
relations between the desert camp and Jerusalem. Various texts from Qumran
explicitly equate the tabernacle with the temple, the camp with Jerusalem, and
outside the camp with the space outside Jerusalem.35
So where is “outside the camp” in section D? Various instances in the
Hebrew Bible require the burning of sacrificial animals (or parts of the ani-
mal) outside the camp, for instance in relation to general sin offerings
(Lev 4:12, 21), sin offerings related to Aaron’s ordination (Exod 29:14; Lev 8:17)
or Yom Kippur (Lev 16:27), and, finally, as part of the activities related to the
ceremony of the red heifer (Num 19).36 But the specification that the animals
in question are those “whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high
priest” (Heb 13:11) points to two possible sin offerings during Yom Kippur
(Lev 16:27): the sin offering for the high priest and his house (a bull) or the sin
offering for the people (a goat). The subsequent verse, Heb 13:12, must lead
to the exclusion of the first possibility, as the addition “to sanctify the peo-
ple” compares Jesus’s sin offering clearly with a sin offering for the people.37
This comes as no surprise as the portrayal of Jesus as sin offering for the peo-
ple is one of the author’s main statements regarding the interpretation of
Christ’s death in Hebrews: he is free of sin and hence needs no sin offering for
himself (see, for instance, Heb 4:15; 7:26) and, further, he died to cleanse the
people (see, for instance, Heb 9–10). Legislation for Yom Kippur was given to
Moses by God not at some indeterminable place in the desert but specifically
at Sinai, just as the arrival of Israel in the wilderness of Sinai is mentioned in
Exod 19:1–2 and their departure from Sinai in Num 10:11–13. The superimposi-
tion of the first map onto the second links Jesus’s going outside the gate with
35 See, for instance, 4Q394 f3 7ii: 16–17 or 4Q397 f3:3.

36 Whereas the first three occasions require animals to be killed inside the temple court and
their burning outside, the last demands that animals be killed and burned outside the
camp.
37 Given that Barn. 8:2 equates the red heifer with Jesus, an exclusion of this sacrifice as
a textual reference does not come lightly. I dispense with this reference particularly
because the sprinkling of the blood does not take place “inside” the sanctuary (as Heb
13:11 has it), but outside the camp and “towards” the front of the tent (as Num 19:4 has
it). That the priest sprinkles the blood outside the camp is also supported by the Mishna
(m. Parah 3:9).
220 Gelardini
atonement as achieved at Yom Kippur. During Yom Kippur, however, the high
priest never left either the camp or the city. There is only one instance in the
Hebrew Bible where a leader goes outside the camp and suffers, namely, Moses
in Exod 33:7–11, a narrative well established as related to the cleansing of the
people’s sin and to the cleansing of the camp from impurities caused by that
sin, hence with Yom Kippur avant la lettre.38 An early testimony to this exegeti-
cal correlation of Exod 33 with Lev 16, that is, of the high priest’s entry into the
holy of holies with Moses’s entry into the tabernacle of testimony, is offered by
Philo (see Leg. 2:54–56; see also below, p. 232).
Where, then, is outside the (city) gate39 in section D? In my understanding,
this place is not Golgotha, as it is not described as the place where Jesus died.
Rather, the author speaks in Heb 13:12 of a place outside the gate where Jesus
“suffered” (ἔπαθεν). Although this term stands in semantic proximity to death,
I prefer to identify outside the city as the place east of the temple, the only
stretch of the temple wall that functioned also as city wall. Apparently, this
eastern temple wall had a gate necessary for various cultic activities and led
to the Mount of Olives (m. Yoma 1:3; m. Mid. 1:3; see also m. Parah 3:6, which
speaks of a “causeway” connecting the temple with the Mount of Olives), the
space where the bodies (or parts) of the sacrificial animals were burnt. The
Mount of Olives is also the place where Jesus suffered, namely, in Gethsemane
(Mark 14:32–42; Matt 26:36–46; Luke 22:39–46).
When it comes to the audience’s Firstspace in section D’, with outside the
camp possibly implying outside Rome,40 the author provides three clues to
its identity. According to Heb 13:13, in this place the audience is to endure
38 See, for instance, Gabriella Gelardini, “The Inauguration of Yom Kippur According to the
LXX and its Cessation or Perpetuation According to the Book of Hebrews: A Systematic
Comparison,” in The Day of Atonement: Its Interpretations in Early Jewish and Christian
Traditions (ed. Thomas Hieke and Tobias Nicklas; TBN 15; Leiden: Brill, 2011), 225–54. Here
I demonstrate that according to ancient commentators not only the corpses of Aaron’s
sons in the tabernacle (Lev 16:27) necessitated Yom Kippur, but also the corpses of the
people in the camp that ceased due to their worshiping the golden calf (Exod 32); see also
John Lierman’s contribution in this volume (“Moses as Priest and Apostle in Heb 3:1–6,”
47–62).
39 The term “πύλη” need not point exclusively to the city gate, as the camp also had gates
(see, for instance, Exod 32:26LXX).
40 See, for instance, Susan Haber, “Common Judaism, Common Synagogue? Purity, Holiness,
and Sacred Space at the Turn of the Common Era,” in Common Judaism: Explorations
in Second-Temple Judaism (ed. Wayne O. McCready and Adele Reinhartz; Minneapolis:
Fortress, 2008), 63–77; Haber argues that Jews in the Diaspora—including Rome—
“located their synagogues on ‘pure’ land untainted by the moral pollution of Gentile
idolatry and sin” (76).
“reproach” (ὀνειδισμὸν).41 Furthermore, in Heb 13:14 the city inside is deemed

“not lasting” (οὐ . . . μένουσαν). Finally, outside (and evidently not inside),
the city “to come” (μέλλουσαν) can be seen. The designation of Rome as
not lasting—the one empire asserted to be eternal and sine fine by Virgil
(Aen. 1.278–279; 3.85–86; see also Ovid, Fast. 3.72)—and the anticipation of a
future city and empire—most likely Jerusalem (see, for instance, Heb 11: 8–16;
12:22)—definitively carry empire-critical connotations.42 How these three
clues together describe Rome from the author’s perspective remains unclear;
to gain that understanding analysis of the intertext will be required (see below,
pp. 228–35).
Hebrews 13:10 (C) and Hebrews 13:15–16 (C’)
Heb 13:10 We have an [sacrificial] altar Heb 13:15 Through him, then, let us
(θυσιαστήριον) from which those who continually offer a sacrifice (θυσίαν) of
officiate in the tent have no right to eat. praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips
that confess his name.
Heb 13:16 Do not neglect to do good

and to share what you have, for such
sacrifices are pleasing to God.
If we bear in mind the observed overlapping of maps, we see that the author
affirms in section C that the audience—including the author himself, as part
of the present leadership—possesses a “[sacrificial] altar” (Heb 13:10). When
section C’ is added, the function of this altar is further specified: its principal
purpose is to “offer continually a sacrifice of praise to God” (13:15). By way of
this snippet of information, the author explicates what he meant back in Heb
12:28, when he wrote that “we offer God an acceptable worship.” The sacrifice
41 The correct translation of “ὀνειδισμός” is not “abuse” as the NRSV has it, but rather
“reproach,” as translated corrected in LSJ (Henry George Liddell, Robert Scott, and
Henry Stuart Jones, A Greek-English Lexicon [9th ed. with revised supplement; Oxford:
Clarendon, 1996], 1230).
42 See, for instance, Backhaus, Der Hebräerbrief, 473; see also Koester, Hebrews, 570–77;
and more recently Jason A. Whitlark, “ ‘Here We Do Not Have a City That Remains’:
A Figured Critique of Roman Imperial Propaganda in Hebrews 13:14,” JBL 131 (2012):
161–179; along with Harry O. Maier’s contribution in this volume (“ ‘For Here We Have No
Lasting City’ [Heb 13,14a]: Flavian Iconography, Roman Imperial Sacrificial Iconography,
and the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 133–57).
222 Gelardini
ought to come in the form of words that “confess his name,” which implies
“reverence and awe” (12:28) toward God, meaning obedience toward his will
(see 13:21), and with the instruction “to do good and to share what you have”
(13:16).
In spatial terms, the phrase in Heb 13:10 implies first that the sacrificial altar
is determined metaphorically, that is, in anthropological or bodily terms as the
“lips” of the people (Heb 13:15), and second that the sacrifices to be offered con-
tinually are not intended to enter the mouth in a subsequent meal but should
come out of the mouth instead. Quite possibly, this phrasing is similar to the
audience’s model of Jesus, who repeatedly prays in Gethsemane: “Abba, Father,
for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want,
but what you want” (Mark 14:36; see also Matt 26:39, 42; Luke 22:42). If these
interpretations are correct, then the altar can indeed only be metaphorical.
The sacrifices are “food” for God, for him alone. The assertion that “those who
officiate in the tent”—supposedly the Levitical priesthood—“have no right to
eat from our altar” makes complete sense and has a third-spatial implication,
since those offerings cannot be shared and belong to the deity in heaven alone.
Hebrews 13:7–9 (B) and Hebrews 13:17–19 (B’)
Heb 13:7 Remember your leaders Heb 13:17 Obey your leaders
(ἡγουμένων), those who spoke the word of (ἡγουμένοις) and submit to them, for they
God to you (λόγον); consider the outcome are keeping watch over your souls and
of their way of life, and imitate their will give an account (λόγον). Let them do
faith. this with joy and not with sighing—for
Heb 13:8 Jesus Christ is the same that would be harmful to you.
yesterday and today and forever.
Heb 13:9 Do not be carried away by all Heb 13:18 Pray for us; we are sure that we
kinds of strange teachings; for it is well have a clear (καλὴν) conscience, desiring
(καλὸν) for the heart to be strengthened to act honorably in all things.
by grace, not by regulations about food, Heb 13:19 I urge you all the more to do
which have not benefited those who this, so that I may be restored to you very
observe them. soon.
Again we should bear in mind the overlapping of maps as the author prompts
the audience in section B to “remember the leaders who spoke the word of God
to them.” The “outcome of their way of life is to be considered, their faith to be

imitated” (Heb 13:7). The author seems to refer to past leaders, those outside
the camp, who received the word of God there, one of whom—if the inter-
textual link to Exod 33:7–11 is correct—must be Moses, whose faith is consid-
ered by the author not only in Heb 3:2, 5, but also in 11:23–29. Unlike Moses, to
whom Jesus is explicitly compared in Heb 3:1–6, Jesus will not cease, but will
stay forever (Heb 7:24). The author compares the past and present leaders in
section B’ (Heb 13:17).
The good leaders of the past are contrasted with those who have conveyed
“strange teachings” (Heb 13:9). Quite possibly, the latter are those officiating in
the tent—inside the camp—and hence are also past leaders. The author refers
to teachings that seem to be related to food regulations, most likely sacrifices,
as “strange,” that is, as “idolatrous sacrifices” (see Acts 15:29; 21:25; Rev 2:14, 20).
These food regulations have failed in their purpose, and the author promotes
“grace” as the better solution. The author—possibly along with Timothy—is
certain that like Moses and Jesus, but unlike those corrupted leaders, he has
promoted what is right, namely, grace. Consequently, he can take pride in a
clear conscience. In the context of Hebrews, he is free from sin, of which he is
not even aware (Heb 10:3–4).
Hebrews 13:1–6 (A) and Hebrews 13:20–25 (A’)
Heb 13:1 Let mutual love continue. Heb 13:25 Grace be with all of you.
Heb 13:2 Do not neglect to show Heb 13:24 Greet all your leaders and all the
hospitality to strangers, for by doing that saints. Those from Italy send you greetings.
some have entertained angels without
knowing it.
Heb 13:3 Remember those who are in Heb 13:23 I want you to know that our
prison, as though you were in prison brother Timothy has been set free; and if
with them; those who are being tortured, he comes in time, he will be with me when
as though you yourselves were being I see you.
tortured.
Heb 13:4 Let marriage be held in honor Heb 13:22 I appeal to you, brothers and
by all, and let the marriage bed be kept sisters, bear with my word of exhortation,
undefiled; for God will judge fornicators for I have written to you briefly.
and adulterers.
224 Gelardini
Heb 13:5 Keep your lives free from the Heb 13:21 make you complete in
love of money, and be content with everything good so that you may do his will,
what you have; for he has said, “I will working among us that which is pleasing in
never leave you or forsake you.” his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be
the glory forever and ever. Amen.
Heb 13:6 So we can say with Heb 13:20 Now may the God of peace,
confidence, “The Lord (κύριος) is my who brought back from the dead our Lord
helper; I will not be afraid. (κύριον) Jesus, the great shepherd of the
What can anyone do to me?” sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant,
As the author lists five admonitions in section A, we again think of the over-
lapping of maps. How these admonitions are related to the first space at Sinai
is not evident at first sight. “Mutual love” ranks highest (Heb 13:1), perhaps
because idolatry prompted division at Sinai (Exod 32:25–29). “Hospitality”
comes next (Heb 13:2), perhaps because in the past angels were supposed to
replace God (Exod 32:34; 33:2) and perhaps because some of the present guests
might be considered saints (Heb 13:24). Then follows the invitation to “remem-
ber those in prison,” including Timothy (Heb 13:3, 23). Moreover, the author
adds warnings against possible “fornicators and adulterers” (Heb 13:4; see also
Exod 32:25), perhaps because they symbolize idolatry based on exogamy, of
which Esau provides a negative example in many texts, including Hebrews
(12:16). Finally, the author warns the addressees of the “love of money” (Heb
13:5), perhaps because the golden calf was crafted from the jewelry of the peo-
ple and because the idol symbolizes material security (Exod 32:2–3, 24). If this
last deduction is correct, then the deduction in the following verse, concern-
ing seeing the help in the Lord (Heb 13:6) and not in gold makes perfect sense
(Exod 32:2–3, 24).
In section A’, the individual commands are subsumed under one overarch-
ing directive, namely, to do “God’s will” (Heb 13:21). Only those who bear the
leaders’ “exhortation” (Heb 13:22) can be made complete by God and will be
enabled through Jesus to do that which in turn is pleasing in God’s sight (Heb
13:21). Once this is achieved, those addressees will be crowned with “God’s
grace” (13:25). However, the actions implied by the idea of bearing the exhorta-
tion are not obvious at this point, necessitating consideration of the intertext
(see below, pp. 231–33).
Before we examine the intertext, here are the main findings of this section.
My research confirms previous assertions about the authenticity of Heb 13, as
well as its manifold links to the preceding chapters. The main space “outside
the camp” considers three different spaces, and the first space, Sinai, rein-
terprets the other two spaces, outside Jerusalem (Gethsemane) and outside
Rome. The central individuals are three, and the first, Moses, reinterprets the
other two, Jesus and the present leaders. The primary action is “leaving” a prob-
ably defiled space, and going forth is related to “suffering,” which in turn seems
to be an expression of loyalty toward God, a manifestation of faith. In what
follows, I argue that the first space, outside the camp at Sinai, is more than a
mere echo in Heb 13,43 but rather the primary model44 and principal intertext.
The Primary Intertext of Hebrews 13: Exodus 32–33
Before turning to Exod 33:7–11, the crucial intertextual passage, let us first con-
sider its context including its spatial aspects.
Exodus 19:1–33:6
After departing from Raphidim, Israel enters the wilderness of Sinai and camps
there in front of the mountain. Immediately thereafter, God calls to Moses
from the mountain, and Moses then goes up to the deity. On the mountain,
God tells Moses that he is willing to treasure Israel as his possession out of all
the people, that is, to enter into a covenant with them, provided they are will-
ing to obey his voice and keep his covenant (Exod 19:2–6).
After reporting this exchange to the people, and after the people have
expressed their consent, on the third day Moses, as commanded, leads the
sanctified people to the foot of Mount Sinai, and God descends upon the
mount (Heb 12:18–21 refers to this dreadful event). Once he has descended,
God calls Moses to the top of the mountain and reveals to him a long list of
laws, of which the first are the Ten Commandments (Exod 19:7–24:2).
After Moses has relayed all the ordinances of God to the people, and after
they have pledged loyalty, Moses writes down all the words, builds an altar
under the mountain, and makes the covenant (24:3–11).
Then God once again calls Moses up to the mount—this time together with
Joshua—in order to give him the tables of stone, while he commands Aaron
and his sons along with the elders to stay below with the people. Thereupon,
the glory of God comes down on Mount Sinai, and Moses remains in his pres-
ence for forty days and forty nights in order to receive subsequent commands
related to the cult institution needed to warrant the covenant relationship.
43 As Ellingworth (The Epistle to the Hebrews, 714) believed.

44 As I have suggested elsewhere; see Gelardini, “Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht,” 369–73.
226 Gelardini
In this context, God also decrees that Aaron and his four sons should serve him
as priests (24:12–31:18).
As Moses delays coming down from the mountain, Aaron—whom God has
just designated to serve him as priest—at the request of the people casts the
golden calf as a surrogate deity in the camp and builds an altar (θυσιαστήριον)
before the calf (32:5). He then proclaims the subsequent day as a feast in honor
of this idol. On the following day, the Israelites—transgressing the covenant
and particularly the first commandment—sacrifice animals and eat from the
idolatrous sacrifices, drink, and rise up to revel (32:1–6).
At the same time, on the mount God reveals to Moses the events in the
camp, the casting of, worshiping of, and sacrificing to the calf (32:8). In his
wrath, God plans to consume Israel, whereupon Moses immediately implores
God to spare his newly chosen people. God listens to Moses and changes his
mind about the disaster he had planned to bring upon his people (32:7–14).
Equipped with the tablets, and accompanied by Joshua, Moses descends to
the camp. And when he hears the noisy celebration and beholds the dancing
people, he breaks the tablets in anger, destroys the idol, takes Aaron to task,
and orders the Levites to kill 3,000 people in the camp—which thus becomes
a place now multiply defiled (32:15–29).
The very next day, Moses returns to the mount and seeks to atone for the
people with his intercession because God has additionally sent a plague upon
them for their idolatry. While God represses his wrath, he is determined to
distance himself from Israel. He commands Moses to bring Israel up into the
promised land without him. As a substitute, he announces that he will send an
angel before him. When the people hear these harsh words, they mourn, and
no one puts on ornaments (32:30–33:6).
Exodus 33:7–11
What follows, in Exod 33:7–11, the essential paragraph, is Moses’s reaction to
God’s harsh verdict that he will not go up to the land among his people:
Translation based on the Masoretic Text Translation based on the Septuagint
Exod 33:7 Now Moses used to take the Exod 33:7 And Moses took his
tent and pitch it outside the camp, far off tabernacle and pitched it without the
from the camp; camp, at a distance from the camp; and
he called it the tent of meeting. it was called the tabernacle of testimony
And everyone who sought the LORD (σκηνὴ μαρτυρίου): and it came to pass
would go out to the tent of meeting, that every one that sought (ζητῶν) the
which was outside the camp. Lord went forth to the tabernacle which
was without the camp.
Translation based on the Masoretic Text Translation based on the Septuagint
Exod 33:8 Whenever Moses went out to Exod 33:8 And whenever Moses went
the tent, all the people would rise and into the tabernacle without the camp, all
stand, each of them, at the entrance of the people stood every one watching by
their tents and watch Moses until he had the doors of his tent; and when Moses
gone into the tent. departed, they took notice until he
entered into the tabernacle.
Exod 33:9 When Moses entered the tent, Exod 33:9 And when Moses entered into
the pillar of cloud would descend and the tabernacle, the pillar of the cloud
stand at the entrance of the tent, and the descended, and stood at the door of the
LORD would speak with Moses. tabernacle, and God talked to Moses.
Exod 33:10 When all the people saw the Exod 33:10 And all the people saw the
pillar of cloud standing at the entrance of pillar of the cloud standing by the door
the tent, all the people would rise and bow of the tabernacle, and all the people
down, all of them, at the entrance of their stood and worshipped (προσεκύνησαν)
tent. every one at the door of his tent.
Exod 33:11 Thus the LORD used to speak Exod 33:11 And the Lord spoke to Moses
to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a face to face, as if one should speak to his
friend. Then he would return to the camp; friend; and he retired into the camp: but
but his young assistant, Joshua son of Nun, his servant Joshua the son of Naue, a
would not leave the tent. young man, departed not forth from the
tabernacle.
According to the Septuagint, Moses takes “his” tent, while the Masoretic text
speaks only of “the” tent. Due to the defilement of the camp, Moses pitches
that tent outside, at a distance. The tent is called the “tabernacle of testimony”
(σκηνὴ μαρτυρίου), which semantically implies not only testimony, but notably
also martyrdom, presumably a reference to Moses’s distress or, according to
the allusion in Hebrews, his “suffering” (Heb 13:12) as a result of the impending
absence of God (Exod 33:7).
Since Moses is the only mediator between God and the people, anyone
“seeking” (ζητῶν) the Lord has no option other than to go out of the camp to
Moses’s tent. The people take notice of Moses’s departure, and whenever he
leaves, they watch him from the doors of their tents: “Will Moses be able to
228 Gelardini
influence God to go up among us?” might have been their fearful question
(Exod 33:7–8).
Whenever Moses enters into the tabernacle outside the camp, the pil-
lar of the cloud—God’s presence—descends and stands at the door of his
tent and talks to him. God’s appearance in the pillar of the cloud, which God
said in his harsh verdict would no longer be with them, evokes instant “wor-
ship” (προσεκύνησαν) among the people standing at the doors of their tents
(Exod 33:9–10).
Then the Lord speaks to Moses, face to face, as if to a friend. After each
conversation, Moses retires back into the camp, while Joshua remains in the
tabernacle outside (Exod 33:11).
Exodus 33:12–16
Moses struggles to find “favor” (χάριν) in God’s eyes so that God’s presence will
go with him, with God’s people. The subsequent debate between Moses and
God offers glimpses of his challenge. At last Moses finds grace in God’s eyes
and in God’s promises to him that “My presence will go with you, and I will
give you rest” (καταπαύσω; Exod 33:14). These words in Exod 33:12–17 serve as a
premise for the covenant renewal in the subsequent chapter.
How the Primary Intertext, Exodus 32–33, Reinterprets Hebrews 13

Spatially
Close reading of the primary intertext in Exod 32–33 supports the suggestion
that this spatial matrix serves the author’s thirdspatial interpretation or rein-
terpretation of Jesus’s and the addressees’ first space. Ancient renditions of this
narrative, particularly from the Targumim and Philo, add even more aspects,
and together they form an intriguing midrashic soundscape from which the
author seems to have chosen those tones that could transform the addressees’
space into a place of resistance and liberation. In what follows, I consider tex-
tual spaces, then bodies (a form of space),45 and finally actions.
Spaces in Exodus and Hebrews

The primary intertext includes four spaces. The first, largest space is the wilder-
ness of Sinai, where Israel had journeyed from Rephidim (Exod 19:1–2). Again,
this distinction of Sinai is important as Hebrews refers to past narratives that
45 See, for instance, Gill Valentine, Social Geographies: Space and Society (Harlow: Prentice
Hall, 2001), 15–62.
take place in various deserts. While the author develops the statements in Heb
12–13 with Sinai in mind, he considers Heb 3–4, for instance, against the back-
ground of the wilderness called Paran (Num 13:26).
The second space is Israel’s camp, located in front of the mountain (Exod
19:2). As a living space, the camp provides protection from hostile forces, and
hence also functions as a military camp. This aspect of the camp is alluded
to by several Targumic variants, with “ornaments,” for example, changing into
“armament” (lit. adornment of his armament) (Tg. Onq., Tg. Neof., and Tg. Ps.-J.
Exod 33:6).46 Philo also argues in this direction, describing the camp as “full
of wars and all the evils that war produces, a place that has not part in peace”
(Leg. 3:46).47 Moreover, he degrades the camp in anthropological terms as
“bodily,” as a “corporeal army” (Det. 160; Gig. 1:54). The camp harbors all the
tents of the people (Exod 33:10), but not the tent pitched outside or God’s
tent (Exod 33:7–11), the tabernacle, which has not yet been erected. At this
point God cannot dwell inside the camp as it is defiled, a detail hinted at by a
Targumic variant: “But my glory will not dwell where you reside in your camps,
for you are a stiff-necked people, lest I wipe you out” (Tg. Ps.-J Exod 33:3). In
place of the living God, Aaron erects the image of the calf within the camp
and builds before it an altar in honor of the idol (Exod 32:5). When the author
of Hebrews points indirectly to the camp in ch. 13, he seems to imply a well-
fortified habitat of the people, defiled by an idol and its related altar.
The third space lies outside the camp. It is more concrete, a tent pitched
by Moses “some distance from the camp”—2,000 cubits away, according to
a Targumic variant (Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 33:7)—but apparently still in sight (Exod
33:7–10). The Septuagint identifies the tent as Moses’s own tent (Exod 33:7;
see also above, pp. 226–27). In addition to being named “tent of meeting” (in
the MT) or “tabernacle of testimony” (in the LXX), this tent is associated in
Targumic variants with teaching and is referred to accordingly as the “tent of
the house of study (or instruction)” (Tg. Onq. and Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 33:7; see also
b. Ber. 63b). Philo goes even further, equating this tent with “wisdom” itself
(Leg. 3:46) and describing it as “darkness” and “invisible region” (Gig. 1:54). Thus,
the sole purpose of this tent is as a place to encounter God and to receive his
words (Exod 33:9, 11). Because the decreed Tabernacle has not yet been erected,
this tent functions as a Tabernacle avant la lettre. Because God descends here,
46 Quotations from the various Targumim are taken from Targum Onkelos to Exodus (trans.
by Israel Drazin; Hoboken, N.J.: Ktav, 1990) and Targum Neofiti 1 and Targum Pseudo-
Jonathan to Exodus (trans. by Martin McNamara, Robert Wayward, and Michael Maher;
Aramaic Bible 2; Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical, 1994).
47 The citations from Philo’s work are taken from the Loeb Classical Library edition.
230 Gelardini
the Tabernacle is neither defiled nor in need of an altar, as the covenant is

broken. In Heb 13:11–13, when the author points to the various spaces outside
the camp, he seems to me to be alluding initially to this temporary Tabernacle:
an undefiled meeting-place bare of any cultic furnishing, a space with the sole
function of enabling reconciliation with God.
The fourth space is the promised land, situated in the far distance and with
its capital city Jerusalem. The negotiations over reaching and eventually seiz-
ing this land by conquering all enemies with the help of God are conducted
in this tent. The path to the heavens is open during these negotiations in the
tent and the promised land is brought into perspective via the heavens; it can
be seen only from the tent. In 13:14, when the author of Hebrews points to the
city to come, this city might similarly be far away and occupied by enemies, in
particular by the Romans. Yet, as the author seems to imply, when God goes up
with his people, he will give them rest from all these present foes in due time.
Bodies in Exodus and Hebrews

The primary intertext includes three groups of bodies. The first group consists
of two deities: one is a supra-creational and living God, a non-corporeal “pillar
of clouds” that appears only outside the camp, at the “entrance of the tent,”
and only in the presence of Moses (Exod 33:9–10), and the other is a lifeless
deity crafted by Aaron from the golden earrings of the people, taken from their
wives, sons, and daughters (Exod 32:2–3). While the first deity rightfully claims
to have delivered Israel from Egypt by having borne his people on eagles’ wings
and brought them to Sinai (Exod 19:4), Aaron falsely ascribes to his image the
same heroic deeds (Exod 32:4). When the author of Hebrews points to God in
Heb 13:6, he means the first deity, the one whose accomplishments match the
author’s confident assertion that this Lord is truly a helper.
The second group of bodies is formed by the leaders, who likewise fall into
two contrasting groups. On the one side are Moses and his young assistant
Joshua (Exod 33:11). Moses is tasked with mediating between the people and
God. One Targumic variant depicts him as a teacher (Tg. Neof. Exod 33:12,
17), which coincides with the designation of the tent as the “house of Torah.”
Mediation takes place outside, in the tent. Moses does not stay there, however,
but instead returns regularly to the camp (see also b. Ber. 63b), unlike Joshua,
who remains in the outside tent permanently (Exod 33:11). Both their roles
have priestly aspects. On the other side stands Moses’s brother Aaron with his
four sons Nadab, Abihu, Eleazar, and Ithamar, who only a little earlier were
appointed to serve God as priests (Exod 28:1). Aaron is not yet consecrated
to ministry, and his attempt to serve the people in this role is illegitimate and
can only lead astray. And so it does, whereupon Aaron is guilty of bringing
upon the people the worst of all possible sins: idolatry (Exod 32:21; see also
Deut 9:20). Aaron’s (and his sons’) site of action is exclusively inside the camp.
When the author of Hebrews points to past leaders, he seems to have in mind
these two contrasting groups: on the one hand, the faithful, “who spoke the
word of God” (Heb 13:7; see also 4:8); on the other hand, those who illegiti-
mately proclaim “strange teachings” (13:9). Jesus is modeled upon Moses (see
3:1–6), yet he outdoes Moses in temporal regard as he serves in this role forever
(13:7). Similarly, present leadership is portrayed as contending with Moses and
Jesus (13:17–18).
The third group of bodies is formed by the people, who likewise fall into
two contrasting groups. While all the people are guilty of the sin of idolatry,
the texts seek to distinguish between those who are remorseful and those who
are not. Particularly to blame are those who provided gold for the idol, and
thus one Targumic variant observes: “He took the calf that they had made and
burned (it) in the fire, and ground (it) until it was powder, scattered (it) on
the surface of the water of the brook and made the children of Israel to drink
(it). Whoever had given an object of god there, a mark came out on his face”
(Tg. Ps.-J. 32:20). Equally suspect are those who do not engage in reconcilia-
tion with God and accordingly are deplored in one Targumic variant as evil:
“Whenever Moses went out of the camp and went to the tent, all the wicked
ones of the people would stand up and station themselves, each at the entrance
of his tent, and watch Moses with an evil eye until the time he entered the tent”
(Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 33:8). This group of people refuses to go out of the camp, in stark
contrast to those who do leave, who are portrayed in one Targumic variant
as seeking teaching (Tg. Onq. and Neof. Exod 33:7) and repentance (Tg. Ps.-J.
Exod 33:7). In his address to the audience, the author of Hebrews makes evi-
dent that he does not want them to remain in idolatry (perhaps a reference
to the metaphor of adultery in Heb 13:4; see also 12:16) like the stiff-necked
ones (13:9); instead, they should go outside the camp like the remorseful ones
(13:13). At the same time, idolatry separates not only God and his people, but
also brothers and sisters, which might explain why the author admonishes the
audience to let mutual love continue (13:1).
Actions in Exodus and Hebrews

The primary intertext includes the actions of all the above bodies. While, as is
logical, no actions of the idol are reported, the living God is truly a helper. He
not only appears in the pillar of cloud at the covenant breaking—albeit at a
distance from the camp—but also speaks to Moses as to a friend (Exod 33:11).
He also speaks to those people who seek his word and is willing to forgive them
even to the extent that he forsakes his original plan to not lead Israel to the
232 Gelardini
promised land (Exod 33:12–17). Therein, God expresses peaceableness (see Heb
13:20) and grace (Exod 33:12, 17: χάρις). When the author of Hebrews reminds
his audience that “it is well for the heart to be strengthened by grace” (Heb
13:9), he might well have the giver of that grace evident in the intertext in mind.
Aaron’s corrupt role in the text goes hand in hand with his actions. He rejects
what God tells him to do and instead does what the people ask of him, namely,
to craft a god. Moreover, he builds an altar before this image and proclaims
the next day a festival honoring this idol. His actions lead to sacrifices being
made and subsequently to eating (and drinking), most likely meat sacrificed to
this idol (Exod 32:1–6). When the author of Hebrews refers to “strange teach-
ings” related to food, he may mean the deeds performed by Aaron and his sons
(Heb 13:9). Whereas Aaron seems to hamper the relationship between God and
his people, Moses commits himself to maintaining and repairing this relation-
ship. He provides a temporary space, a tent of meeting, for God and his people,
despite his fear of God’s anger (Deut 9:19; Heb 12:21). In addition, he makes
himself available to receive God’s words, commands, and teachings, which he
conveys to the people as one Targumic version asserts: “The Lord would con-
verse with Moses—He would hear the voice of the Dibbura, . . . . And when the
voice of the Dibbura had gone up, (Moses) would return to the camp and relate
the words to the congregation of Israel” (Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 33:11). Moses’s return
to the camp can be perceived as potentially dangerous, as the people could
have attempted to kill him, which perhaps explains why one Targumic variant
reports that Moses hid the weapons of the people in the tent outside the camp
(Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 33:7).
The impending threat from the people and also from God provides crucial
insight into the difficulties facing Moses (Exod 32–33; see also Deut 9). Hence, to
circumscribe his situation as one of suffering might be appropriate; moreover,
the designation of the tent as the tabernacle of testimony semantically points
to the impending threat to life (see above, pp. 229–30). Philo reinterpreted the
high priest’s entry into the holy of holies with Moses’s entry into the tabernacle
of testimony, and the author of Hebrews may well have had Moses’s exam-
ple foremost in his mind when describing Jesus’s entry as suffering “outside
the gate in order to sanctify the people by his own blood” (Heb 13:12). Philo
asserts: “This is why the high priest . . . shall enter [the holy of holies] naked . . . to
pour as a libation the blood of the soul and to offer as incense the whole mind
to God our Saviour and Benefactor” (Leg. 2:56 see also Leg. 2:54–55).
Simply put, the actions of the wicked are none. In contrast, the actions of
the insightful are first and foremost worship, reverence for the fact that the pil-
lar of cloud appears at the entrance of the tent. When the author of Hebrews
invites his audience to offer God a sacrifice of praise (Heb 13:15), he might have
in mind this instance. And when he invites the audience to “bear the reproach”
(Heb 13:13), he might be reminded of the key action in the intertextual narra-
tive that one Targumic variant describes as follows: “And anyone who repented
before the Lord with a perfect heart went out to the tent of the house of instruc-
tion which was outside the camp. He confessed his sins and prayed about his
sins, and praying, he was forgiven” (Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 33:7). In Philo’s anthropo-
logical and dualistic rendition of this “bearing reproach,” to go out means to
rid oneself of the bodily camp, to make the soul “naked until it is barren of all
vices.” Moreover, in the abode outside, the soul “gains a fixed and assured set-
tlement in the perfect ordinances of virtues. Wherefore witness is also borne to
it by God that it loves things that are noble,” which is why the tent received the
name tabernacle of testimony (Leg. 2:54–55). Philo is convinced that in pitch-
ing his tent outside the camp, Moses is telling us, figuratively, that the “wise
man [and woman] is but a pilgrim who travels from war to peace, and from the
camp of mortality and confusion to the divine life of peace where strife is not,
the life of reasonable and happy souls” (Ebr. 100; see also Leg. 2:54–55).48
Conclusion and Outlook
This investigation supports the assumption that Exod 32–33 is more than a
mere echo in Heb 13. Based on this intertext the present analysis has brought
into focus that the space outside the camp is most likely, and quite rightly, con-
noted with shame. Drawing on critical spatiality, I have moreover shown that
the shame on the author’s mind probably sprang not only from social margin-
alization and alien status, but also, and perhaps even more so, from the self-
inflicted shame caused by sin, idolatry, and covenant breaking. Precisely these
themes link the final chapter in Hebrews closely to the earlier text,49 which dis-
proves the suggestion that the last chapter falls off or stands unrelated to what
has preceded it. Critical spatiality has proven to be an apt method for high-
lighting the intimate connections between text and intertext. This approach
has also helped shed new interpretative light on a chapter considered by
many as cryptic. Contrasted are not Judaism and Christianity or Levitical and
48 See, for instance, Valentine, Social Geographies, 249–93, esp. p. 275; Valentine argues that
the rural is “often imagined to be a utopian space where it is possible to develop alterna-
tive ways of living and achieve spiritual growth and healing.”
49 Particularly in my own reading of the text (see “Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht”).
234 Gelardini
Melchizedekian priesthoods in the primary intertext,50 but rather the two

Levite brothers Aaron and Moses, idolatrous priest and faithful servant. The
space outside the camp at Sinai is not a space of strength and confidence but
rather a space of suffering, threat, and remorsefulness. It is a space that simi-
larly to the one outside of Jerusalem can indeed—as Berquist asserted—be
viewed as “feminized”51
My analysis has focused on Sinai but may serve as a useful basis for extend-
ing spatial analysis to the remaining two spaces, those outside Jerusalem and
Rome (see above, pp. 218–21). As noted, the space outside Jerusalem points to
the Mount of Olives, which in Zech 14:4 is the space where God will set foot at
the end of the days,52 an utterance related to the reconstruction of Jerusalem
and its temple under Zerubbabel (Esra 5:1; 6:14). The Mount of Olives is also
said to be the locus from which Christ ascends to heaven (Acts 1:9–12).53 With
overlapping maps, the author inscribes a path to heaven into the space outside
of Jerusalem as also it was inscribed into Moses’s tent at Sinai. The path to
heaven, normally conceived exclusively within the holy of holies, has evidently
been shifted. This shift of the axis mundi possibly indicates a crisis, and per-
haps points even more clearly to Jerusalem’s wounded body,54 its destruction.55
Moreover, on the Mount of Olives, Titus, the destroyer of Jerusalem, survived
50 As asserted, for instance, by Norman H. Young, “ ‘Bearing his Reproach’ (Heb 13.9–14),” NTS
48 (2002): 243–61.
51 See Berquist in this volume (“Critical Spatiality and the Book of Hebrews,” 181–93).
52 See, for instance, Gunnar Mikosch, “Von der Anwesenheit einer Abwesenden, Jerusalem
in der jüdischen Bildkultur des Mittelalters,” in Jerusalem as Narrative Space—Erzählraum
Jerusalem (ed. Annette Hoffmann and Gerhard Wolf; Visualising the Middle Ages 6;
Leiden: Brill, 2012), 301–21, esp. p. 310.
53 See, for instance, Eyal Ben Eliyahu, who argues in his article entitled “The Rabbinic
Polemic against Sanctification of Sites” ( JSJ 40 [2009]: 260–80) that perhaps in view of
other tendencies, early rabbinic literature devised strategies for neglecting ascriptions of
sanctity to holy places beyond Jerusalem and the Temple Mount—including Mount Sinai
and the Mount of Olives.
54 See, for instance, Christl M. Maier, “Body Space as Public Space: Jerusalem’s Wounded
Body in Lamentations,” in Constructions of Space 2: The Biblical City and Other Imagined
Spaces (LHB/OTS 490; New York: T&T Clark, 2008), 119–138.
55 Gustav Kühnel’s article “Architectural Mise-en-Scène and Pictorial Turns in Jerusalem”
(in Jerusalem as Narrative Space—Erzählraum Jerusalem [Visualising the Middle Ages 6;
ed. Annette Hoffmann and Gerhard Wolf; Leiden: Brill, 2012], 21–31) is stimulating in this
respect. He traces the migration of the navel of the world in later centuries to Golgotha,
which he sees as linked with other narratives, such as that about Adam’s tomb and about
the tree that rose over his tomb, thereby transforming a purely narrative space into a real
locus sanctus.
and hence “suffered through” a multiply life-threatening battle but achieved a

heroic victory (Josephus, B.J. 5.85–97). Perhaps Jesus needs to suffer out here
as well, in Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives, in order to reverse the disaster
and accomplish the foundation of the city to come (Heb 13:14), albeit only once
Rome, the mansura urbs and the imperium sine fine, has been conquered, with
the help of God (see above, pp. 220–21). In this sense, the textual Secondspace
outside the camp and the Firstspace outside Jerusalem carry connotations of
struggle,56 under the condition of sincere contrition, a struggle forceful enough
to transform the addressees’ Firstspace outside Rome into a space of resistance
and liberation.57
Bibliography
Primary Sources and Resources

Accordance 11: Bible Software Version 11.0.3. OakTree Software. 2014.
Mischnajot: Die sechs Ordnungen der Mischna: Hebräischer Text mit Punktation,
deutscher Übersetzung und Erklärung. 6 vols. 3. ed. Basel: Goldschmidt, 1986.
Targum Onkelos to Exodus. Translated by Israel Drazin and based on the Alexander
Sperber and Abraham Berliner Editions. Hoboken, N.J.: Ktav, 1990.
Targum Neofiti 1 and Targum Pseudo-Jonathan to Exodus. Translated by Martin
McNamara, Robert Wayward, and Michael Maher. Aramaic Bible 2. Collegeville,
Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1994.
Philo. Translated by F. H. Colson and G. H. Whitaker. 12 vols. Loeb Classical Library.
Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1929–1953.
Backhaus, Knut. Der Hebräerbrief: Übersetzt und erklärt. Regensburger Neues
Testament. Regensburg: Pustet, 2009.
56 See, for instance, Jon L. Berquist, “Spaces of Jerusalem,” in Constructions of Space 2: The
Biblical City and Other Imagined Spaces (LHB/OTS 490; 490; New York: T&T Clark, 2008),
40–52.
57 What this could have meant for an audience located in Rome, see Aitken’s contribution in
this volume (“The Body of Jesus outside the Eternal City,” 194–209).
236 Gelardini
Gräßer, Erich. An die Hebräer (Hebr 10,19–13,25). Evangelisch-katholischer Kommentar
zum Neuen Testament 17/3. Zurich: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 1997.
Karrer, Martin. Der Brief an die Hebräer: Kapitel 5,11–13,25. Ökumenischer Taschenbuch-
Kommentar zum Neuen Testament 20/2. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2008.
Koester, Craig R., Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary.
Lane, William L. Hebrews 9–13. Word Biblical Commentary 47b. Dallas: Word Books,
1991.
Other Literature
Aitken, Ellen Bradshaw. “The Body of Jesus outside the Eternal City: Mapping Ritual
Space in the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages 194–209.
Berquist, Jon L. “Critical Spatiality and the Book of Hebrews.” Pages 181–93.
———. “Spaces of Jerusalem.” Pages 40–52 in Constructions of Space 2: The Biblical City
and Other Imagined Spaces. Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 490.
New York: T&T Clark, 2008.
Burnet, Régis. “La finale de l’épître aux Hébreux: une addition alexandrine de la fin du
IIe siècle?” Revue Biblique 120 (2013): 423–40.
Eliyahu, Eyal Ben. “The Rabbinic Polemic against Sanctification of Sites.” Journal for the
Study of Judaism 40 (2009): 260–80.
Flanagan, James W. “Space.” Pages 239–44 in Handbook of Postmodern Biblical
Interpretation. Edited by A. K. M. Adam. St. Louis: Chalice, 2000.
Gelardini, Gabriella. “The Inauguration of Yom Kippur According to the LXX and its
Cessation or Perpetuation according to the Book of Hebrews: A Systematic
Comparison.” Pages 225–54 in The Day of Atonement: Its Interpretations in Early
Jewish and Christian Traditions. Edited by Thomas Hieke and Tobias Nicklas. Themes
in Biblical Narrative 15. Leiden: Brill, 2011.
———. “Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht”: Der Hebräer, eine Synagogenhomilie zu Tischa
be-Aw. Biblical Interpretation Series 83. Leiden: Brill, 2007.
Haber, Susan. “Common Judaism, Common Synagogue? Purity, Holiness, and Sacred
Space at the Turn of the Common Era.” Pages 63–77 in Common Judaism: Explora
tions in Second-Temple Judaism. Edited by Wayne O. McCready and Adele Reinhartz.
Hubbard, Phil, and Rob Kitchin, eds. Key Thinkers on Space and Place. 2nd ed. Los
Angeles: Sage, 2011.
Isaacs, Marie E. “Hebrew 13.9–16 Revisited.” New Testament Studies 43 (1997): 268–84.
Koester, Helmut. “ ‘Outside the Camp’: Hebrews 13.9–14.” Harvard Theological Review 55
(1962): 299–315.
Kühnel, Gustav. “Architectural Mise-en-Scène and Pictorial Turns in Jerusalem.” Pages
21–31 in Jerusalem as Narrative Space—Erzählraum Jerusalem. Visualising the
Middle Ages 6. Edited by Annette Hoffmann and Gerhard Wolf. Leiden: Brill, 2012.
Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space. Translated by Donald Nicholson-Smith.
Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1991.
Lierman, John. “Moses as Priest and Apostle in Heb 3:1–6.” Pages 47–62.
Liddell, Henry George, Robert Scott, and Henry Stuart Jones. A Greek-English Lexicon.
9th ed. with revised supplement. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996.
Maier, Christl M. “Body Space as Public Space: Jerusalem’s Wounded Body in
Lamentations.” Pages 119–38 in Constructions of Space 2: The Biblical City and Other
Imagined Spaces. Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 490. New York:
T&T Clark 2008.
Maier, Harry O. “ ‘For Here We Have No Lasting City’ (Heb 13,14a): Flavian Iconography,
Roman Imperial Sacrificial Iconography, and the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages
133–57.
Mikosch, Gunnar. “Von der Anwesenheit einer Abwesenden, Jerusalem in der jüdischen
Bildkultur des Mittelalters.” Pages 301–21 in Jerusalem as Narrative Space—
Erzählraum Jerusalem. Visualising the Middle Ages 6. Edited by Annette Hoffmann
and Gerhard Wolf. Leiden: Brill, 2012.
Soja, Edward W. “Thirdspace—Die Erweiterung des Geographischen Blicks.” Pages
269–88 in Kulturgeographie: Aktuelle Ansätze und Entwicklungen. Edited by Hans
Gebhardt, Paul Reuber, and Günter Wolkersdorfer. Heidelberg: Spektrum, 2003.
———. Thirdspace: Journeys to Los Angeles and Other Real-and-Imagined Places.
Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 1996.
Stewart, Eric C. “New Testament Space/Spatiality.” Biblical Theology Bulletin 42 (2012):
139–50.
Steyn, Gert J. “The Ending of Hebrews Reconsidered.” Zeitschrift für die neutestamentli-
che Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche 103 (2012): 235–53.
Valentine, Gill. Social Geographies: Space and Society. Harlow: Prentice Hall, 2001.
Wedderburn, Alexander J. M. “The ‘Letter’ to the Hebrews and its Thirteenth Chapter.”
New Testament Studies 50 (2004): 390–405.
Whitlark, Jason A. “ ‘Here We Do Not Have a City That Remains’: A Figured Critique
of Roman Imperial Propaganda in Hebrews 13:14.” Journal of Biblical Literature 131
(2012): 161–79.
Young, Norman H. “ ‘Bearing his Reproach’ (Heb 13.9–14).” New Testament Studies 48
(2002): 243–61.
An Archaeology of Hebrews’ Tabernacle Imagery
Kenneth Schenck
Introduction
The nature of the heavenly tabernacle in Hebrews has long been a matter of
intense debate. Lincoln Hurst has divided the various interpretations into two
general camps: those who believe the heavenly tabernacle is a literal tent in
heaven of some sort and those who see the heavenly tent as a metaphor for
something else.1 Among those who see it as a literal tent, we can discern two
further lines of interpretation: one understands the heavenly tabernacle to be
some sort of Platonic archetype, while another looks to some eschatological
sanctuary in Jewish apocalyptic literature as a precedent.2
In distinction from the literalists, we also find numerous suggestions among
those who take the tabernacle metaphorically, the most prominent of which
are cosmological in nature. Thus some understand the tabernacle to be the
cosmos itself as a whole, while others see the tabernacle as the highest heaven
beyond the cosmos.3 Finally, we should raise the possibility that we have mixed
1 L. D. Hurst, The Epistle to the Hebrews: Its Background of Thought (SNTSMS 65; Cambridge:
Cambridge University, 1990), 24.
2 Platonic: e.g., F. W. Farrar, The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Hebrews (Cambridge:
Cambridge University, 1894), 145; James Moffatt, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the
Epistle to the Hebrews (ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1924), 106; Ceslas Spicq, “Le philonisme
de l’Épître aux Hébreux,” RB 56 (1949): 212–42; Lala K. K. Dey, The Intermediary World and
Patterns of Perfection in Philo and Hebrews (SBLDS; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars, 1975), 174–77;
James W. Thompson, The Beginnings of Christian Philosophy: The Epistle to the Hebrews
(CBQMS 13; Washington D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1982), 105–7;
apocalyptic: e.g., Hans Windisch, Die Hebräebrief (Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1913), 113; C. K.
Barrett, “Eschatology in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in The Background of the New Testament
and Its Eschatology (ed. W. D. Davies and D. Daube; Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1954), 363–93, esp. 383–85 (although Barrett saw Platonic language used of the
tabernacle as well); Otto Michel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (KEK 13; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1984), 289; Otfried Hofius, Der Vorhang vor dem Thron Gottes: Eine exegetisch-
religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung zu Hebräer 6,19f und 10,19f (WUNT 14; Tübingen: Mohr
[Siebeck], 1972), 49; Hurst, Epistle; David M. Moffitt, Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection
in the Epistle to the Hebrews (NovTSupp 141; Leiden: Brill, 2013), 223.
3 Cosmos: Aelred Cody, Heavenly Sanctuary and Liturgy in the Epistle to the Hebrews: The
Achievement of Salvation in the Epistle’s Perspectives (St. Meinrad, Ind.: Grail, 1960), 18; as part
of the equation, Craig R. Koester, The Dwelling of God: The Tabernacle in the Old Testament,

An Archaeology of Hebrews ’ Tabernacle Imagery 239
backgrounds in play behind this sermon. Most prominent here is the sugges-
tion of George MacRae that the author brings a Platonic view to a rhetorical
situation in which the audience is more apocalyptic in orientation.4
I propose to unravel this tangled web in the pages that follow. To do so
requires a full appreciation of the primarily metaphorical nature of the heav-
enly tabernacle. We cannot fully resolve the tensions in Hebrews’ complex
and sometimes conflicting imagery unless we carefully unfold this polyvalent
metaphor. The key is to see the heavenly tabernacle as only one component in
a broader metaphor, namely, that of Christ as a heavenly high priest. Within
this broader metaphor, the heavenly tabernacle is not merely the heavenly
correspondent of the earthly tabernacle of the old covenant, although this
signification certainly holds in one sense. But since the construct of Christ’s
high priesthood is a larger and more comprehensive metaphor into which the
tabernacle metaphor fits, the most precise referent of the heavenly sanctuary
is actually that abstract sacred space where Christ’s spiritual atonement takes
place. If we were to look for a literal correspondent, we would find it to be
heaven itself. However, because the heavenly tabernacle is part of a broader
metaphor, its precise referent sometimes becomes rather abstract.
The result is a polyvalent piece of rhetoric that in some ways resembles
an archaeological tel, like the buried remains of an ancient city. On the
lower strata of the tel are the remains of prior Christian traditions on which
the author of Hebrews has built. Some of these jut into the structure he has
erected on and around them.5 But he has built on these traditions new and
extended metaphors that sometimes blend and sometimes clash with the
other styles of architecture in the final edifice. A full appreciation of the struc-
ture requires us to distinguish foundations from framing and décor. The impor-
tance of such distinctions holds whether we are approaching the text from
a diachronic or synchronic perspective. With these purposes in mind, let the
digging commence.
Intertestamental Jewish Literature, and the New Testament (CBQMS 22; Washington D.C.:
Catholic Biblical Association, 1989), 174–81; Highest Heaven: F. F. Bruce, The Epistle to the
Hebrews (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964), 166. In addition, Hurst mentions less likely
metaphorical suggestions such as the eucharistic body of Christ; the glorified body of Christ;
the church as the body of Christ; and an event or set of events.
4 George W. MacRae, “Heavenly Temple and Eschatology in the Letter to the Hebrews,” Semeia
12 (1978): 179–99. I perceive Craig Koester’s treatment (Dwelling, 152–83) to lean toward some
sort of mixed perspective as well.
5 The masculine singular participle the author uses self-referentially in Heb 11:32 makes it
virtually certain that the author was male.
240 Schenck
The High-Priestly Metaphor of Hebrews
Given that the tabernacle metaphor is in large part defined by the broader
high-priestly metaphor of Hebrews, a cursory delineation of this broader
metaphor seems to be an essential prolegomenon to the specific question of
what the tabernacle itself might represent in Hebrews’ argument. In regard to
Christ’s high priesthood, the author of Hebrews openly acknowledges that if
Christ were on earth, he would not be a priest (8:4). The author thus implies
that Christ’s priesthood is a metaphor, the creation of a new signification by
the juxtaposition of two unlike things.6 According to the “normal” definition
of a priest or high priest on earth, Christ would not qualify for either title. He
served no sanctuary on earth. No gospel records that he ever even considered
himself a priest. He was not from the tribe of Levi (e.g., Heb 7:14). To call Christ
a high priest is thus to use those words in a way other than in their ordinary
sense. It is to create a new meaning for the phrase “high priest,” by applying the
expression to a context in which it is not normally used.
Perhaps the best perspective from which to delineate Hebrews’ high-priestly
metaphor is one that begins with the rhetorical purposes for which the author
employs it. Hebrews’ hortatory material aims to encourage the confidence of
the audience to keep moving forward in faith (e.g., Heb 3:6, 14; 4:14–16; 10:19, 23;
ch. 11) and to dissuade them from “drifting” (2:1) or falling away (e.g., 6:6; 10:39).
What is intriguing is that Hebrews repeatedly substantiates these exhortations
by way of extensive exposition about the superiority of Christ to the cultus
of the “old covenant.”7 The best explanation for this phenomenon is that the
author considered some Levitical means of atonement as a potential or real
detractor from the persistence of the audience in faith. The precise nature of
the detraction need not concern us here. What does concern us is that this
factor constituted part of the rhetorical problem that gave rise to Hebrews,
and it led the author to construct the elaborate high-priestly metaphor that is
perhaps the author’s most important contribution to later Christian theology.
6 Paul Ricoeur, Time and Narrative (trans. K. McLaughlin and D. Pellauer; Chicago: University
of Chicago, 1984; trans. of Temps et Récit [Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 1983]), 1:ix. See also
ch. 3 of Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth,
Tex.: Texas Christian University Press, 1976), 45–70; and ch. 3 of Paul Ricoeur, The Rule of
Metaphor (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1978; trans. of La métaphore vive [Paris: Éditions
du Seuil, 1975]), 65–100.
7 For a broad discussion of the interplay of exposition and exhortation in Hebrews, see George
H. Guthrie, The Structure of Hebrews: A Text-Linguistic Analysis (NovTSupp 73; Leiden: Brill,
1994).
We can identify three basic components of the high-priestly metaphor of

Hebrews: (1) Christ is a high priest who (2) offers himself as a definitive sac-
rifice (3) in a heavenly sanctuary. For the author of Hebrews, these compo-
nents correspond to three key components of the Levitical cultus, namely,
(1) Levitical priests who (2) offered sacrifices (3) in an earthly tabernacle. The
author draws this metaphorical parallel in order to demonstrate the obsoles-
cence of the Levitical cultus and system, indeed, of the law itself as he refers
to it. With regard to the Levitical priesthood, the author notes that “if perfec-
tion had been attainable through the levitical priesthood . . . what further need
would there have been to speak of another priest arising according to the
order of Melchizekek” (7:11) and that “When there is a change in the priest-
hood, there is necessarily a change in the law as well” (7:12). The author’s con-
trast of the order of Melchizedek with the order of Levi thus allows him to
consider the Levitical priesthood obsolete, along with the law and the cove-
nant of which it was a part (8:13).
The author makes similar arguments in relation to the sacrifice of Christ in
contrast to Levitical sacrifices. While “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and
goats to take away sins” (10:4), Christ has “with one offering perfected forever
those who are sanctified” (10:14). Now that God has forgiven sins and lawless
deeds, “there is no longer an offering for sin” (10:18). Indeed, the imagery of
Heb 9 amalgamates a number of different sacrifices from the Jewish Scriptures
and contrasts them en masse with the one sacrifice of Christ, thereby imply-
ing that Christ has now rendered all the different kinds of sacrifices found
throughout the Pentateuch obsolete. Whether it is the sacrifice on the Day of
Atonement (9:7), or the sacrifice of the red heifer (9:13), or hyssop ceremonies
for cleanness (9:19), or Moses’s inaugural cleansing of the wilderness taber-
nacle (9:19), Christ’s one sacrifice has not only made any such sacrifice unnec-
essary; Christ’s sacrifice is also the only one of these sacrifices that actually has
worked in cleansing a consciousness of sin (cf. 9:14; 10:1–3).8
8 If Christ’s sacrifice has put an end to the earthly sacrificial system, then it follows that any
earthly sanctuary is similarly rendered obsolete. Scholars have long noted and speculated on
why Hebrews refers consistently to the tabernacle rather than to the temple. I personally side
with those who would say that the Jerusalem temple was already destroyed by the time of
Hebrews. Indeed, I wonder if part of the detraction of the Levitical cultus for the audience is
directly related to its absence. While Heb 13:9 pushes us to see some actual Levitical detractor
in the audience’s environment, we can read most of Hebrews’ rhetoric as a consolation to
the audience in the absence of a temple, a reassurance of the positive value of Christ’s death
and their lack of need for any other system. For a more detailed discussion of the rhetorical
situation behind Hebrews, see ch. 2 of my Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Settings
of the Sacrifice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 24–47.
242 Schenck
The Bottom of the Tel: The “Pre-Hebrews” Stratum
With some sense of the author’s overall rhetorical purposes in mind, we now
proceed profitably to the “pre-Hebrews” stratum of the tel. On this level we find
no evidence of a heavenly tabernacle as yet. At least in the New Testament, this
notion is the unique provenance of the author of Hebrews. To be sure, we do
find Paul speaking of the collective body of Corinthians as the “temple of God”
(ναός θεοῦ, 1 Cor 3:16). And later John will refer to Jesus’s physical body as a
temple (John 2:19).9 But none of these references bears any substantial resem-
blance to the heavenly tabernacle in Hebrews.10 And certainly none of them is
a good candidate as a source or precedent for Hebrews.
With regard to the notion of Christ as priest, we do find the barest of hints
in Rom 8:34 that some prior Christians may have seen Christ as some sort of
priestly intercessor at God’s right hand.11 The context of intercession in this
verse pushes us toward seeing Christ’s intercession against a legal and prob-
ably eschatological context where Christians face potential condemnation
or justification by God. While such advocacy on Christ’s part need not have
priestly overtones, we look only at 1 John 2:2 to recognize how easily the role
of “advocate” (παράκλητος) could slide into Christ as a “propitiatory offering”
(ἱλασμός). Yet even if we assume the maximal priestly implications of these
sorts of passages, we still do not have the sense of Christ as the one who offers
the sacrifice nor do we have a sense of Christ as high priest. The evidence we
have in the New Testament for these innovations lies squarely in the hands of
the author of Hebrews.
By contrast, the idea of Christ’s death as a sacrifice clearly precedes the
author of Hebrews and, indeed, the apostle Paul himself.12 For example, Rom
3:25 is likely a pre-Pauline or at least extra-Pauline formula that considered
Christ’s death as an atoning sacrifice of some sort. It is unnecessary to enter
into the considerable debates about the precise form of the statement or the
precise connotations of ἱλαστήριον (“mercy seat,” “expiatory offering”) in the
verse. By nearly all reckonings and interpretations, we have clear indication
that early Christians prior to Hebrews understood Christ’s death in terms of
9 Cf. John 1:14.

10 Although we certainly find metaphorical interpretations of the heavenly tabernacle along
such lines in the history of its interpretation.
11 See David M. Hay, Glory at the Right Hand: Psalm 110 in Early Christianity (SBLMS 18;
Nashville: Abingdon, 1973).
12 Cf. James D. G. Dunn, “Paul’s Understanding of the Death of Jesus,” in Reconciliation and
Hope: New Testament Essays on Atonement and Eschatology Presented to L. L. Morris on His
60th Birthday (Carlisle: Paternoster, 1974), 125–41.
God offering Jesus as an atoning sacrifice of some sort for sins by means of his
blood. While this idea does not play a prominent role in Paul’s theology in his
letters, it is clearly present and clearly is based on traditions that go beyond
him.13 These observations imply that we are already on metaphorical ground
with regard to Christ’s death before we even get to Hebrews. A person who had
witnessed Jesus’s death on a literal level observed the capital punishment on
a cross of a Jew deemed a criminal by the Roman authorities. To consider that
death a sacrifice offered by God is thus to take the death metaphorically, even
if it was a well-established topos that anyone might readily have understood.
When we get to our text, we find evidence of this pre-Hebrews stratum jut-
ting into the structure of Hebrews’ edifice, where it mildly clashes with the
style of Hebrews’ own building. One of the debates over Hebrews’ sacrificial
imagery relates to the location where Christ “offered” his sacrifice. On the one
hand, Heb 9:7 uses the word προσφέρω (“offer”) in relation to the holy of holies
in the earthly tabernacle. If the author is consistent with his imagery, we would
logically expect the offering in the heavenly tabernacle to take place in its Most
Holy Place, whatever that might be.14 We are thus not surprised to find imag-
ery in Hebrews that would locate Christ’s offering in the heavenly tabernacle.
Hebrews 9:24–25 speaks of Christ entering into heaven itself to offer his sac-
rifice in contrast to those earthly high priests who enter into τὰ ἅγια (literally,
“the holies”) on earth to offer their sacrifices. Heaven seems clearly the loca-
tion of Christ’s offering. This location fits with the claim in 8:4 that Christ was
not a high priest on earth, as well as with the precedent of the earthly cultus
that the author sets forth in 9:7.
However, the author is not entirely consistent with this location. N. H. Young
argued a number of years ago that in fact Hebrews identifies the offering of
Christ only with the death of Jesus and not with his entrance into the heavenly
tabernacle in heaven at all.15 He builds a surprisingly substantial case for this
interpretation. For example, if it were not for the preceding argument in Heb
8 and 9, we would no doubt understand 10:12 to equate Christ’s death with
the offering of his sacrifice: “This one sat at the right hand of God after he
had offered one sacrifice for sins for all time.”16 Indeed, the author of Hebrews
13 For example, Rom 8:3, sin offering; 1 Cor 5:7, “Passover.”
14 W. E. Brooks in fact argues that Christ’s offering continues to take place at God’s right
hand, see Brooks, “The Perpetuity of Christ’s Sacrifice in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” JBL
89 (1970): 205–14.
15 “The Gospel according to Hebrews 9,” NTS 27 (1981): 208–9; so also W. Stott, “The
Conception of ‘Offering’ in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” NTS 9 (1962/63): 62–67.
16 I acknowledge that someone might take the participle in some way other than temporally,
but it seems to me that this translation is the most natural syntactical reading of the text.
244 Schenck
does not use any heavenly tabernacle imagery in the closing argument of
10:1–18. Hebrews 10:10 actually speaks of the “offering of the body of Jesus
Christ,” linking the offering with the earthly and physical body of Jesus, a body
Jesus receives after he has entered into the world (10:5).
The question of whether the author of Hebrews saw Christ entering
heaven with literal blood is a reasonable one. On the one hand, 9:12 states that
Christ “through his own blood entered εἰς τὰ ἅγια.” But the preposition διά
seems significant—Hebrews says that Christ entered not with his own blood
in the sense of accompaniment but through his own blood in the sense of
instrumentation.17 Indeed, the phrase immediately preceding this comment
takes διά instrumentally: “not through the blood of goats and calves.” Later, in
9:25, when the author seems to imply accompaniment, he uses the preposition
ἐν: “the high priest enters the holy of holies yearly with the blood of another.”
Yet in that passage, the author does not then go on to make the parallel state-
ment that Christ entered into heaven “with” his own blood. Instead, he says
that Christ appeared for the nullification of sin διὰ τῆς θυσίας αὐτοῦ (“through
his sacrifice”).
All in all, the case for the translation “with his own blood,” understood in
terms of accompaniment, is rather weak. The contrast of 9:13–14 underscores
this point. While the “blood of goats and bulls . . . sanctifies for the cleansing of
the flesh . . . the blood of Christ, who offered himself blameless to God through
eternal spirit, will cleanse our conscience.” The author seems to word this state-
ment very carefully so that the nature of the offering is spiritual and thus at
one remove from Christ’s blood itself.18 Thus the author consistently shies
away from saying that Christ offered blood in the heavenly tabernacle.19
17 Moffitt (Atonement, 222 n. 12) also takes διά here in an instrumental sense. Nevertheless,
he pictures Christ literally carrying his blood spatially through a heavenly structure (e.g.,
Atonement, 224). At the very least, it is questionable whether the close proximity between
παραγενόμενος at the beginning of 9:11 and εἰσῆλθεν at the end of 9:12 suggests a continu-
ous spatial movement (Atonement, 222 n. 10). Christ’s “having arrived a high priest of good
things that have come to be” relates to the arrival of the new covenant, in contrast to
the law in 10:1, which included a shadow of “good things going to come.” That is to say,
παραγενόμενος has nothing to do with space in this verse.
18 Moffitt recognizes the nuance in the dualism I have proposed in relation to Hebrews
(Atonement, 23 n. 67; cf. Schenck, Cosmology, 115–43). It is not straightforwardly Platonic,
for example. It also is not Gnostic, which one might misread into his comment that I
see the material realm as “evil.” Rather, “flesh is weak.” In the cosmology of the New
Testament, the material realm is susceptible to the power of sin but is not evil in itself.
19 The central thesis of Moffitt’s work (e.g., Atonement, 299) is that the inner logic of Hebrews
does not work if Jesus did not enter into heaven in an embodied, fully resurrected state.
Perhaps the clearest instance where the author of Hebrews aligns the offer-
ing of Christ’s sacrifice with Christ’s death occurs in 9:27–28:
Just as it is appointed for mortals to die once and after this, judgment,
so also the Christ, after being offered [προσενεχθείς] for the many to take
away [ἀνενεγκεῖν] sins, will be seen a second time without sin for salva-
tion by those who await him.
In the parallelism, human death is parallel to Christ’s offering, just as human

judgment is parallel to Christ’s return without sin. Again, if we did not have
the preceding argument in Heb 8 and 9, we would conclude without ques-
tion that Hebrews here equates the death of Jesus with his offering to take
away sins. We should take the passive προσενεχθείς as a divine passive and thus
understand God as the implied one offering Jesus as a sacrifice. The statement
is thus highly reminiscent of Rom 3:25, where God offers Christ as an atoning
sacrifice for sins.
Accordingly, we find ourselves in a situation where the most likely meanings
of several verses in Hebrews conflict with each other if taken somewhat liter-
ally. Hebrews 9:25 pictures Christ offering his sacrifice in heaven; 9:28 pictures
Christ being offered on earth at his death. The solution is not to explain away
one or the other, perhaps a natural impulse. The explanation lies in the fact
that the author is moving subtly between two slightly different metaphors of
offering. The one is the metaphor he inherited from prior Christian tradition,
namely, that of Christ’s death on the cross as a sacrificial offering. We should
see this level of metaphor as more fundamental to the author. But on top of
that stratum he has also created the image of Christ as a heavenly high priest
entering into a heavenly sanctuary, and here he pictures the offering made in
heavenly ἅγια. The author’s care to avoid associating blood with the heavenly
sanctuary underlines this distinction.
Nevertheless, the two images stand in some tension with each other when
they are juxtaposed. This tension is a strong indication that the heavenly tab-
ernacle in Hebrews functions primarily on a metaphorical level. When we take
His argument is that (1) Jesus can only be greater than the angels in Heb 1–2 if he takes
his humanity with him into the heavenly realm; (2) a body is necessary for Jesus the high
priest to have a life that remains, an indestructible life; and (3) the presentation of body,
blood, and self as the things Christ’s offers in the heavenly tabernacle coheres best with
the corresponding logic of the Levitical sacrificial system of the old covenant. The cru-
cial question is whether the specific rhetoric of Hebrews supports this inferred logical
substructure.
246 Schenck
its imagery literally on the subject of Christ’s offering, we run into conflicting
imagery in the author’s argument. In contrast, when we take the imagery meta-
phorically, the tension is resolved. Our subsequent forays into Hebrews’ use of
the heavenly tabernacle will only confirm and further substantiate this line
of interpretation.
The Foundation Stratum: Heaven Itself as the Tabernacle
The importance of Psalm 110 for the author of Hebrews is self-evident.20

Given that the first verse of this psalm appears throughout the New Testament
in a wide range of contexts, it is clear that this text played a significant role in
the life of the early church prior to Hebrews. We can infer its impact wher-
ever we find mention of Christ at God’s right hand, one instance of which is
the passage at Rom 8:34 that we have already mentioned. These citations and
allusions picture the triumphal seating of Jesus as Lord and Christ at God’s
right hand (cf. Acts 2:36). Given the cosmology of the ancient world, it is only
natural that Christians would also envisage Jesus ascending through the heav-
ens to that right hand. We find such an ascension explicitly in Luke 24:51 and
Acts 1:9, and the Gospel of John alludes to it a number of times.21 But allusions
to Christ’s ascension per se are relatively sparse in the New Testament as a
whole. Hebrews is perhaps the earliest book in the New Testament to allude
to it clearly.
We find a number of instances in Hebrews where the author connects
Christ’s high priesthood with his passage through the heavens. Hebrews 9:24 is
an obvious place to start, since here the author comments that “Christ did not
enter into hand-made ἅγια . . . but into heaven itself, now to appear before the
face of God on our behalf.” This verse has long been the favorite of those who
see the heavenly tabernacle as heaven itself, a position with which I have great
sympathy. But since entrance into a heavenly structure would also require
entrance into heaven itself, the statement does not in and of itself prove defin-
itively that the author thought of heaven itself as the heavenly tabernacle.
Nevertheless, the verse does imply that movement through space into heaven
was a part of Christ’s entrance into the heavenly ἅγια.
20 Although few have followed his lead, George W. Buchanan once notoriously suggested
that Hebrews as a whole was a homiletic midrash on Psalm 110; see Buchanan, To the
Hebrews: Translation, Comments, and Conclusions (New York: Doubleday, 1972), xix. While
this proposal seems excessive, it reflects at the very least the extensive role that Psalm 110
plays in Hebrews.
21 For example, John 3:13; 6:62.
The case for this interpretation only mounts as we consider other pas-
sages in Hebrews. For example, 4:14 states that the audience has “a great high
priest who has passed through the heavens.” The two verses that follow then
encourage the audience in the light of Christ’s priestly function at the “throne
of grace,” presumably the throne of God.22 The text thus creates a picture of
Christ the high priest passing through the heavens on his way to the throne of
grace. Hebrews 7:26 also refers to Christ’s high priesthood in the same breath
as it praises Christ for “having become higher than the heavens,” presenting
us with the same image of Christ passing through the heavens in connection
with his role as high priest. Hebrews 8:1–2 then continues the high priestly
theme a few verses later with another mention of Christ as a high priest at
God’s right hand—a location it then connects with his high-priestly ministry
in the “true tent.” It is only natural to conclude that the throne of grace next to
which Christ sits is in the heavenly holy of holies, whatever it may be.
Since this imagery is so coherent and consistent, the burden of proof lies
squarely on the shoulders of anyone who would deny that Christ’s entrance
into the heavenly tabernacle was part of Christ’s ascension from earth to the
heavens to the right hand of God, probably understood to be in the highest
heaven. A distinction between the highest heaven and the created heavens
or skies accounts for Christ being in heaven (9:24) and yet also being “higher
than the heavens” (7:26). The singular οὐρανός (“heaven”) in Heb 9:24 in con-
trast to the plural οὐρανοί in verses like 4:14 and 7:26 may bear out such a dis-
tinction. This distinction would then be between created heavens that will
eventually be shaken along with the earth (cf. 12:26), and the heaven where
God dwells that is “higher than the [created] heavens” (7:26).23 The singular of
9:24 would then refer to the unshakeable heaven above the created skies where
God dwells and into which Christ entered.
Thus far we have not really eliminated any of the main suggestions for the
nature of the heavenly tabernacle. On the one hand, Lincoln Hurst and Ronald
Williamson have raised some significant questions about the viability of a ste-
reotypically Platonic approach.24 For example, while Philo might be able to
account for the idea of an archetype being “pitched” (cf. Heb 8:2), Plato could
not, for his archetypes were eternal.25 On the other hand, even for Philo it
22 This image seems very similar to that we found in Rom 8:34, where Jesus intercedes at
God’s right hand. There, however, any priestly role is implicit at best.
23 The fact that οὐρανός is singular in 12:26 does not negate this suggestion, for in that
instance the author was citing Hag 2:6.
24 For example, Hurst, Epistle, 29. Ronald Williamson, Philo and the Epistle to the Hebrews
(ALGHJ 4; Leiden: Brill, 1970).
25 For Philo, the archetypes were created by God (cf. Opif. 16).
248 Schenck
is not clear how a person could enter a heavenly archetype or how an event
could take place in one.26 We will postpone a fuller exploration of the Platonic
approach until our subsequent treatment of Heb 8:5. There we will need to be
careful to distinguish the “Middle Platonism” current at the time of Hebrews
from Plato’s approach over four hundred years earlier.
To gain further clarity on the nature of the heavenly tent, we must observe
carefully the way the author refers to it in Heb 8:1–9:28, particularly the author’s
use of the term ἅγια. A significant question in this regard is whether Hebrews
pictures an outer room on the heavenly tent. For example, if the author
has some literal apocalyptic tent in mind, it is then more likely the heavenly
tent would have chambers to correspond to the earthly tent. But in fact the
case against an outer room in the heavenly tent of Hebrews is quite strong.27
In Heb 9, the author strangely speaks of the two chambers in the earthly
tabernacle in terms of two tents rather than two rooms (e.g., 9:2–3, 6–7). The
reason becomes apparent when we get to 9:7–8: the author is interpreting
the two “tents” of the earthly tabernacle allegorically in terms of the two ages
of salvation history.28
The outer room represents “the present time in which both gifts and sacri-
fices are offered that are not able to perfect the worshipper in conscience” (9:9).
In other words, the outer room represents imperfection and the prevention of
access to God: “the way τῶν ἁγίων is not apparent while the first tent has στάσις”
(9:8).29 The author thus gives us significant reason to disassociate the outer
room of the earthly sanctuary from the heavenly tabernacle. In the author’s
imagery, the outer room stands as an obstacle to divine access. In keeping with
the author’s comments elsewhere about direct access to God (e.g., 4:16; 10:19),
an outer room for the heavenly tent would stand in conflict with this imagery.
A close examination of the author’s train of thought in this passage pushes
us more and more to the conclusion that he likely does not envisage an outer
room to the heavenly tent. First, for example, we notice that while the passage
at 9:2–8 divides the earthly tabernacle into two tents, the two sparse references
26 Hurst, Epistle, 37, addressing the comments of C. K. Barrett in his classic article
“Eschatology in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” 384.
27 Contra Moffitt, Atonement, 224.
28 Hurst’s arguments to the contrary seem strained (Epistle, 26–27). The most likely gram-
matical antecedent of ἥτις is σκηνή and the most likely referent for this word is the first
part of the two-part earthly tabernacle.
29 There is some debate over what it might mean for the first tent to “have standing,” ranging
from those who see an allusion to the destruction of the cosmos to those who argue that
it is an idiom about the status of this present age.
to a heavenly tent are both singular (8:2; 9:11). Secondly, while the author refers
to the outer room of the earthly tabernacle as ἅγια in 9:2, his other neuter
plural references to τὰ ἅγια seem more likely to refer to the inner sanctum.30
The phrase “the way of the holies” in 9:8 must refer to the inner room given the
author’s Day of Atonement imagery. And despite the immense debate over
the meaning of 9:11, almost all agree that the phrase “into the holies” in 9:12
must refer either literally or metaphorically to the holy of holies. Hebrews 9:24
must again refer to the holy of holies when it uses the neuter plural “holies”
again, which is noticeably in parallel to heaven itself. Given such consistent
use of the neuter plural ἅγια in these ways, particularly in its articular form,
the most likely conclusion is that 8:2 also is thinking of the heavenly holy of
holies when it says that Christ is a minister τῶν ἁγίων (“of the holies”). The full
expression here is that Christ is a “minister of the holies and of the true tent.”
While it is possible that we have a mention of a part and then a mention of the
whole, the phrase reads very neatly if both the tent and the holies are one and
the same, with the heavenly holies in fact the whole of the heavenly tent.
We have thus adduced three significant reasons for thinking that whatever
the heavenly tent might be, it does not consist of an outer and inner cham-
ber: (1) the author reflects some antipathy toward the outer room in 9:8 and
allegorizes it in terms of imperfection and hindrance to God’s presence;
(2) the author consistently refers to the heavenly tent by the imagery of the
inner sanctum of the earthly tabernacle; and (3) while the author refers to
the earthly tabernacle as plural “tents,” he refers to the heavenly “tent” only
twice and both times in the singular. On the whole, I can think of only two
passages from which one might argue for an outer part of the heavenly tent.
The first is 8:5, where Moses is told to make everything according to the type
shown him in the mountain. I will treat this verse in the next section. The other
passage is 9:11–12, which we will discuss now.
I have already mentioned briefly the chiasm in Heb 9:11–12. These verses
are a matter of extensive debate, and the main options are well rehearsed.31
The two key possibilities center on whether the preposition διά should be
taken locally, “through the greater and more perfect tent,” or instrumentally,
“by means of the greater and more perfect tent.” The strongest argument for
the local reading relates to the fact that the Day of Atonement is one of the
primary images from which the author is working. The Day of Atonement
30 Contra Moffitt, Atonement, 222 n. 11.

31 Hurst does not even try to explain this verse because its most likely reading does not fit
into his interpretive framework. He simply states that “the interpretation of this verse is
so contentious that it would be hazardous to build any theory on it” (Epistle, 27).
250 Schenck
clearly involves movement through the outer part of the tent and into the holy
of holies. Thus we find some interpreters who take the sequence through the
greater and more perfect tent into τὰ ἅγια to be (1) the movement of Christ
through the lower heavens into the highest heaven, or (2) the movement of
Christ through an outer tent of the heavenly tabernacle into the inner sanc-
tum, or (3) a general reference to the heavenly tent as a whole that then turns
to the inner sanctum within that tent.
The first of these interpretations falls with the observation that whatever
the greater and more perfect tent is, it is not of this creation.32 According to
Heb 12:25–27, the created heavens are destined to be shaken along with the
earth. With this observation, we can eliminate as unlikely conceptions of
the heavenly tabernacle that take it as the entire cosmos or that take the lower
heavens to be the outer room of the heavenly tent. If the heavenly tent is cos-
mological, then it is the highest heaven alone rather than the whole universe.
The second interpretation is also unlikely, for then the author would refer
strictly to the outer room of the heavenly tent as the “greater and more perfect
tent,” which would be a somewhat bizarre comment in the author’s argument.33
It is highly improbable that the author would not include the inner sanctum in
his reference to the greater and more perfect tent.
The final option, a switch from a reference to the whole tent to a part of the
tent, is possible, although it seems awkward. It also requires us to see a switch
from a local use of διά to two instrumental uses. Such alternation is not impos-
sible. On the one hand, the διά in “through the greater and more perfect tent”
parallels chiastically the instrumental statement “διά his own blood,” which
might push us to take it instrumentally rather than locally. On the other hand,
the chiasm as a whole is already a little imbalanced—for example, “not made
with hands, not of this creation” does not have the same form as the other
lines. And the meaning of the lines is not formulated chiastically in its entirety.
Meanwhile, we can discern some parallel meanings between the first and sec-
ond halves of the chiasm. So the call between a local interpretation and an
instrumental interpretation is a close call indeed.
In this debate another possibility presents itself, namely, a modal sense.
Christ offered himself “by way of the greater and more perfect tent,” rather than
either the local “through [the first part of] the greater and more perfect tent”
32 So rightly Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews
(Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1989), 222–23.
33 Moffitt strangely seems to take παραγενόμενος to mean something like “going,” as in,
“When Christ went through the tabernacle” (Atonement, 223–24 n. 13). However, the word
generally has the sense of arrival rather than departure. See n. 17 above.
or a straight instrumental “by means of the greater and more perfect tent.”34
Such a sense fits first with the idea that 9:11 is the second part of a μέν-δέ con-
struction that began at 9:1. On the one hand, the first covenant had a tent of
such and such a sort with certain ministrations; on the other hand, Christ did
his work by way of the greater and more perfect tent. Secondly, a modal sense
to διά here can retain a spatial referent to the tent while also staying closer to
the instrumental sense of the other references. It avoids the awkward spatial
sense of a purely local reading while also avoiding some wildly metaphorical
instrumental sense. The passage thus reads,
But Christ, when he arrived as a high priest of good things that had come
to pass, by way of the greater and more perfect tent—which is not made
with hands, that is, not of this creation, and not through the blood of
goats and calves—but by way of his own blood, he entered into the holies
once, since he had found an eternal redemption.
It is thus my contention that the author of Hebrews did not envisage a heav-
enly tabernacle with an outer room. He did think of the heavenly tent spa-
tially and think of Christ’s movement into it spatially in terms of entering
into heaven itself. Indeed, without an outer chamber we have little reason not
to identify the highest heaven, heaven itself, with the heavenly tabernacle.35
While 9:24 would not necessarily require us to identify heaven with the heav-
enly tent, in the absence of arguments to the contrary, we are free to take it
in its most straightforward reading: “For Christ did not enter into hand made
holies, antitypes of the true [holies], but into the heaven itself, now to appear
before the face of God on our behalf.” The identification of the parts of the
earthly temple with various parts of the cosmos, including the identification
of the inner sanctum with the heavens, is well attested in Philo and Josephus.36
Such an interpretation fits well with a reading of Hebrews against a strongly
Hellenistic milieu. It does not fit as well with a reading of Hebrews’ tabernacle
imagery against the heavenly temples of apocalyptic Judaism.37
34 For a more extensive argument see Schenck, Cosmology, 155–64.

35 My line of interpretation thus aligns extensively with the work of Koester, Dwelling of God,
esp. 152–83, although below I push further toward metaphor than Koester does explicitly.
36 E.g., Philo: Somn. 1.215; Spec. 1.66; Mos. 2.88; QE. 2.91; Josephus: A.J. 3.123, 180–81.
37 Moffitt (Atonement, 221 n. 7) has suggested that the angelology of Hebrews points away
from a cosmological interpretation of the heavenly sanctuary, following the lead of
Jonathan Klawans in Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supercessionism
in the Study of Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University, 2006), esp. 111–44. However,
252 Schenck
Other Strata: Beyond Heaven Itself
I have made a fair case for heaven itself as the most literal correspondent
to the heavenly tabernacle in Hebrews, but we cannot yet consider the case to
be closed. In particular, we find at least three other pictures of the heavenly
tabernacle that might require us at least to modify our train of thought slightly,
perhaps even to scrap our hypothesis. These are (1) the mention of the earthly
sanctuary as a shadow of the true tent in 8:5, which is the stronghold of the
Platonic interpretation; (2) the picture of the cleansing of the heavenly sanctu-
ary in 9:23; and (3) the apparent metaphor of Christ’s flesh as a veil in 10:20.
We start with 8:5. I have written on this passage elsewhere, so I will make
the barest of comments in reference to it.38 First, if the author meant to refer
to a Platonic archetype, he has either muddled the reference or deliberately
obscured the connotations. While σκιᾶ (“shadow”) is a Platonic term, we do
not find a single use of ὑπόδειγμα in all extant Greek literature in reference
to a Platonic archetype.39 It far more often—including another reference in
Hebrews (4:11)—refers to an example. Indeed, Philo himself can use it of the
literal precedent of a more important allegorical meaning.40 While we find a
few sparse uses of the word as “likeness,” these are rare and even then are not
archetypes.41 Similarly, while the author could have cited Exod 25:9, where
the verse uses the word παράδειγμα, which was a Platonic technical term, the
Klawans (Purity, 113) specifically points to Philo as a clear exception to this pattern.
Indeed, Philo uses more than one interpretive lens in relation to the heavenly tabernacle.
He can interpret it as the cosmos (e.g., Spec. 1.66), and he can interpret it allegorically
in relation to the distinction between the intelligible and sense-perceptible worlds (e.g.,
QE 2.94). In that sense, Klawans’s study does not detract in any way from this line of inter-
pretation and, in any case, Hebrews itself must ultimately be the delimiting factor in the
hermeneutical circle with background literature.
38 Kenneth Schenck, “Philo and the Epistle to the Hebrews: Ronald Williamson’s Study after
Thirty Years,” SPhA (14 (2002): 112–35; Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The
Story behind the Sermon (Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2003); and Schenck,
Cosmology, 165–68, 171–73.
39 So also Hurst, Epistle, 13.
40 For example, Opif. 157, where Philo speaks of the text of Genesis providing δείγματα
τύπων—“examples of types,” probably a genitive of apposition. Cf. Her. 256; Conf. 190.
41 Attridge (Hebrews, 219) suggests a few instances where he thinks the word does have
the meaning of “copy,” namely, the Septuagint of Ezek 42:15 and Aquila’s rendering of
Ezek 8:10 and Dan 4:17. Gregory Sterling also argues for this basic sense in Her. 256,
in Sterling, “Ontology versus Eschatology: Tensions between Author and Community,”
SPhA 13 (2001): 190–211, esp. 195.
author for some reason uses the Exod 25:40 version with the word τύπος. Again,
if he wished to make a Platonic sense clear, he has taken a strange route.
Later, in 10:1, we note the wording carefully where the author says that the
“law has a shadow of good things about to come to pass, not the image of those
things.” In the typical Platonic scheme, shadow and image are both terms used
of copies and generally stand on the same level of likeness. These are all indi-
cations that the author is not using these words in the metaphysical sense of
Plato or Philo. I have suggested elsewhere that he may be using these terms
more in an exegetical sense.42 Regardless, because the law does not “have” the
image of the good things to come (10:1), which seems a reference to Christ (9:11),
it is not a precise parallel. I mentioned earlier that the author amalgamates all
the sacrificial images of the Pentateuch and pits them as a whole against the
one sacrifice of Christ. In that sense, they are only a shadowy example of what
Christ did—they are not a mirror image of what Christ did. When we then
return to 8:5, we do not expect the “type” and the earthly shadows to be precise
mirror images of each other. We might expect the earthly ministrations to have
symbolic, even allegorical, correspondents, and we note again that the author
does allegorize the two chambers of the earthly tent. But we are not pressed
to see 8:5 as an indication that the earthly tabernacle as we find it in Exodus
is some mirror image—Platonic or otherwise—of what exists and takes place
in heaven.
Hebrews 9:23 is more revealing. In this verse the author speaks of the need
for the heavenly tabernacle to be cleansed with better sacrifices than those
used to cleanse the earthly one. The oddity of this comment is well known.
Since the heavenly tent is not of this creation (9:11) and was pitched by the
Lord rather than by mortals (8:2), how is it that it needs cleansed? The observa-
tion that the author is thinking about the inauguration of the earthly sanctuary
alleviates some of the tension (9:18–22)—it is not a sacrifice for specific sins
committed.43 Nevertheless, it does not resolve the issue completely. Indeed,
this image seems damning to any literal interpretation of the heavenly taber-
nacle. If the heavenly tabernacle is some literal apocalyptic temple, surely the
author is at least being metaphorical when he speaks of its cleansing!44
42 Cf. Col 2:17

43 Cf. Hurst, Epistle, 38–40.
44 Moffitt (Atonement, 225–26 n. 20), following Klawans (Purity, 131), uses 1 Enoch as an argu-
ment that it was not inconceivable for a Jew to imagine that a sanctuary in heaven could
be defiled. It remains to be seen, however, whether Hebrews itself thought of the heavenly
sanctuary in such terms. In the end, we simply do not find any indication elsewhere in
Hebrews that the sacred space of heaven has been defiled by angelic sin, let alone by
254 Schenck
This passage more than any other pushes us to see the heavenly tabernacle
in Hebrews ultimately as more a metaphorical construct than a literal structure
or place.45 I have argued throughout that the author more often than not does
have heaven itself in view when he refers to Christ entering the heavenly taber-
nacle. But on a more fundamental level, the heavenly tabernacle is not simply
the heavenly correspondent of the earthly tent. The heavenly tabernacle is part
of a broader metaphor of Christ’s high priesthood that is meant to contrast as
a whole with the key components of the Levitical cultus. What generates the
concept of a heavenly tabernacle in the thought of Hebrews is not some prec-
edent in Platonism, apocalypticism, or Hellenism, although the author may
draw some general concepts from one or more of these. What really drives his
use of a heavenly tabernacle concept is the need to have a new covenant space
in which Christ can offer his superior sacrifice.
In the overall metaphor of Christ’s high priesthood, the heavenly taberna-
cle represents the space where true atonement takes place in contrast to the
superficial cleansings of the earthly tabernacle. From a slightly different meta-
phorical perspective, Christ’s ascension into heaven is understood to be his
entrance into such a heavenly holy of holies. But these are distinct metaphors
built on slightly different precedents, and the author creatively integrates the
two. For example, I have mentioned that the author seems careful not to say
that Christ took blood into the heavenly tabernacle. But the two metaphors
clash significantly when the author speaks of the inaugural cleansing of the
heavenly tabernacle. From the perspective of the one metaphor, it makes per-
fect sense to speak of inaugurating the heavenly tabernacle with sacrifices
better than those Moses used. But considered from the perspective of the other
metaphor, the idea of heaven itself needing cleansing seems highly problem-
atic if we push the concept very far at all.
Finally, although it is not essential to our argument, we should probably
mention the controversial verse at 10:20. In the context of this verse, the author
encourages the audience to approach (presumably) something like God’s
throne of grace because they have boldness to enter into the holy of holies by
means of the blood of Jesus. Then comes the verse in question: this entrance is
something “that [Jesus] has inaugurated for us as a new and living way through
human sin. Indeed, aside from a sterilized reference to the devil in 2:14, Hebrews gives
not a hint of the existence of any evil angels. Hebrews seems to make a stark distinction
between the unshakeable heaven where God’s presence is (12:27; cf. 12:22–24) and the cre-
ated heavens (skies) that God will shake and remove (12:26).
45 The position for which I am arguing, therefore, is not as simple as equating the heavenly
tabernacle with the cosmos, contra Moffitt, Atonement, 221 n. 7.
the veil, that is, his flesh.” The most obvious way to take the grammar of this
verse equates Christ’s flesh with the veil. Not only is καταπέτασμα (“veil”) the
closest potential antecedent, but σάρξ (“flesh”) is also in the genitive case in
agreement with it. While it would be more theologically convenient to see
Christ’s flesh as the way rather than the veil, ὁδός (“way”) is in the accusative
case and thus is not the likely antecedent.
The idea of Christ’s flesh as a veil through which brothers may pass
into the holy of holies is clearly metaphorical. It would be inappropriate either
to press the imagery too far or to try to use this particular metaphor as the
key to the heavenly tabernacle argument in the previous chapters. But as
William G. Johnsson once hinted, it does show a clear propensity on the part
of the author to take the heavenly tent metaphorically.46 It reminds us that
the author is swimming around a key concept and that these metaphors are
not ends in themselves. The author’s ultimate purpose with regard to these
images is to bolster the confidence of the audience in the atonement provided
by Christ vis-à-vis the Levitical cultic system. The images themselves are some-
what fluid and are ultimately means to an end.
Conclusion
In the preceding pages I have attempted to present the various strata of the
tel in which we find the heavenly tabernacle of Hebrews. We best understand
its nature by examining the pre-Hebrews stratum on which it is built. Here
we find the idea of Jesus’s death on a cross as an atoning sacrifice and hints
that some early Christians may have seen Christ playing a priestly role at God’s
right hand in heaven. In the “earliest” stratum of Hebrews, we find remains
of a rhetorical situation in which the author of Hebrews wishes to argue and
assure the audience that Christ’s death obviates any need on their part to rely
on Levitical means of atonement.
On top of this level we find the author building the overall metaphor of
Christ’s high priesthood. Christ becomes not only the sacrifice, but the priest
offering the sacrifice as well. Christ’s ascension into heaven metaphorically
becomes his entrance into a heavenly tent. When the author is functioning
with this latter perspective, the closest literal correspondent to the heavenly
tabernacle is the highest heaven where God’s throne is. But at the same time,
46 William G. Johnsson, “The Cultus of Hebrews in Twentieth-Century Scholarship,” ExpTim

89 (1977–78): 104–8, esp. 107. The term Johnsson used was a “spiritualizing” intent. I would
prefer to say a tendency to interpret the heavenly tabernacle metaphorically.
256 Schenck
these new significations occasionally create tensions in imagery and give rise
to ambiguity on issues like where exactly the offering was made, whether on
earth at the cross or in heaven. Similarly, when the author contrasts the inau-
guration of the earthly tent with the inauguration of the heavenly one, he
creates the extraneous connotation of heaven needing cleansing, surely unin-
tended on his part.
Only by careful attention to these layers of metaphor piled on metaphor
can we truly see the complex coherency of the author’s imagery in the central
chapters of Hebrews. The result is a beautiful architectural design. By identify-
ing these structures as metaphorical, I do not imply that they are somehow less
meaningful. Indeed, metaphorical meanings are often far richer than literal
meanings. However, in the case of Hebrews, many of these metaphors are put
to use for purposes that truly are more pressing for the author. There is a real
sense in which he would far prefer the audience rely on Christ’s atoning death
than invest in his images of a heavenly tabernacle.
Bibliography
Bruce, F. F. The Epistle to the Hebrews. New International Commentary on the New
Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964.
Buchanan, George W. To the Hebrews: Translation, Comments, and Conclusions. New
York: Doubleday, 1972.
Michel, Otto. Der Brief an die Hebräer. Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar 13. Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1984.
Windisch, Hans. Die Hebräebrief. Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1913.
Other Literature
Barrett, C. K. “Eschatology in the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages 363–93 in The
Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology. Edited by W. D. Davies and
D. Daube. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1954.
Brooks, W. E. “The Perpetuity of Christ’s Sacrifice in the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Journal
of Biblical Literature 89 (1970): 205–14.
Cody, Aelred. Heavenly Sanctuary and Liturgy in the Epistle to the Hebrews: The
Achievement of Salvation in the Epistle’s Perspectives. St. Meinrad, Ind.: Grail, 1960.
Dey, Lala K. K. The Intermediary World and Patterns of Perfection in Philo and Hebrews.
Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars, 1975.
Dunn, James D. G. “Paul’s Understanding of the Death of Jesus.” Pages 125–41 in
Reconciliation and Hope: New Testament Essays on Atonement and Eschatology
Presented to L. L. Morris on His 60th Birthday. Carlisle: Paternoster, 1974.
Farrar, F. W. The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Hebrews. Cambridge: Cambridge
Guthrie, George H. The Structure of Hebrews: A Text-Linguistic Analysis. Novum
Testamentum Supplements 73. Leiden: Brill, 1994.
Hay, David M. Glory at the Right Hand: Psalm 110 in Early Christianity. Society of Biblical
Literature Monograph Series 18. Nashville: Abingdon, 1973.
Hofius, Otto. Der Vorhang vor dem Thron Gottes: Eine exegetisch-religionsgeschichtliche
Untersuchung zu Hebräer 6,19f und 10,19f. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum
Neuen Testament 14. Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1972.
1990.
Johnsson, William G. “The Cultus of Hebrews in Twentieth-Century Scholarship.”
Expository Times 89 (1977–78): 104–8.
Klawans, Jonathan. Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supercessionism in
the Study of Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.
Koester, Craig R. The Dwelling of God: The Tabernacle in the Old Testament, Inter
testamental Jewish Literature, and the New Testament. Catholic Biblical Quarterly
Monograph Series 22. Washington D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association, 1989.
Semeia 12 (1978): 179–99.
Ricoeur, Paul. Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning. Fort Worth,
Tex.; Texas Christian University Press, 1976; trans. of La métaphore vive. Paris:
Éditions du Seuil, 1975.
———. Time and Narrative. Vol. 1. Translated by K. McLaughlin and D. Pellauer.
Chicago: University of Chicago, 1984, trans. of Temps et Récit. Paris: Éditions du
Seuil, 1983.
Schenck, Kenneth. Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Settings of the Sacrifice.
———. “Philo and the Epistle to the Hebrews: Ronald Williamson’s Study after Thirty
Years.” Studia Philonica Annual 14 (2002): 112–35.
———. Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story behind the Sermon. Louisville,
258 Schenck
Spicq, Ceslas. “Le philonisme de l’Épître aux Hébreux.” Revue Biblique 56 (1949):
212–42.
Sterling, Gregory E. “Ontology versus Eschatology: Tensions between Author and
Community.” Studia Philonica Annual 13 (2001): 190–211.
Stott, W. “The Conception of ‘Offering’ in the Epistle to the Hebrews.” New Testament
Studies 9 (1962/63): 62–67.
Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series 13. Washington D.C.: Catholic Biblical
Williamson, Ronald. Philo and the Epistle to the Hebrews. Arbeiten zur Literatur und
Geschichte des Hellenistischen Judentums 4; Leiden: Brill, 1970.
Young, N. H. “The Gospel according to Hebrews 9.” New Testament Studies 27 (1981):
208–9.
Serving in the Tabernacle in Heaven: Sacred Space,
Jesus’s High-Priestly Sacrifice, and Hebrews’
Analogical Theology
David M. Moffitt
Introduction
In her book Sacred Space: An Approach to the Theology of the Epistle to the
Hebrews, Marie Isaacs argues that Hebrews, in response to the destruction of
Jerusalem, seeks to shift its audience’s focus away from the physical and exter-
nal notions of sacred space associated with the promised land of Israel, the city
of Jerusalem, and the temple. These, the author of Hebrews argues, need to be
replaced by “the only sacred space worth having—heaven.”1 Through his death,
Jesus has gained access to that realm. The crucifixion and, specifically, the cor-
responding access to God that it acquired are used by the author to reorient
the traditional Jewish concept of “sacred territory as located geographically on
earth” by redefining this space as “a beatific state in heaven.”2 Thus, the author’s
task is fundamentally hermeneutical. Beginning with his belief that Jesus’s
death can be metaphorically understood as a sacrifice that cleanses one’s inte-
rior person, he attempts to show further how the concrete physical locales and
external rituals that constituted sacred space in the Mosaic economy on earth
can serve as metaphors that point to the abstract immaterial realities of being
in God’s presence. Hebrews, in other words, transforms sacred physical space
into a sacred spiritual state.
While Isaacs seeks to work these ideas out in Hebrews with respect
to the spatial language of the text, she is far from alone in applying to Hebrews
the assumption that the author’s language about Jesus’s entering heaven and
ministering there is best understood as part of an extended metaphor that
depicts the spiritual significance of Jesus’s death in terms of the atoning min-
istry of the Jewish high priest, particularly, though not exclusively, with respect
to his entry into the holy of holies on the Day of Atonement.3 Along these lines,
1 Marie E. Isaacs, Sacred Space: An Approach to the Theology of the Epistle to the Hebrews
(JSNTSup 73; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992), 67.
2 Isaacs, Sacred Space, 82.
3 So, for example, Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews
(Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980), esp. 260–66; Knut Backhaus, “Per Christum in

260 Moffitt
one also finds references in the modern secondary literature to the author’s
“high-priestly metaphor.”4
I argue here that this approach to Hebrews misconstrues the text in two
interrelated ways. First, the view that Hebrews develops metaphors out of the
biblical depictions of the earthly cult and its sacred space as a way of reflecting
on the abstract spiritual realm of heaven assumes the wrong model for heaven
and for how the author conceives of the relationship of earthly sacred space
and high-priestly ministry to their corresponding heavenly counterparts.
Second, such an interpretation of Jesus’s salvific work mistakes Hebrews’
analogical reasoning for metaphor. The affirmation and depiction of Jesus’s
high-priestly status and heavenly work in Hebrews, together with the author’s
conception of “the heavens” as progressively sacred space that contains a heav-
enly tabernacle/temple, suggest instead that the author assumes a cosmology
that allows him to draw analogies between the atoning offering of blood in the
holy of holies on earth and Jesus’s atoning offering of himself in the ultimate
sacred space, the holy of holies in heaven.
Given the language of “metaphor” and “analogy” that has just been used,
a few caveats are in order before proceeding. First, I am not suggesting that
those who argue that Hebrews’ high-priestly Christology and conception of
sacred space are metaphors necessarily claim that such metaphors do not refer
to realities and/or that these metaphors would not have been understood as
referring to realities by the author or the intended audience. Second, I am not
suggesting that Hebrews contains no metaphors. Hebrews is shot through with
metaphor (see, e.g., Heb 2:1; 3:4; 4:12; 5:12–14; 6:7–9; 12:29; 13:20). The central
question I address is how the basic model or conception of heaven implicit
in the text is related to the notions of sacred space and Jesus’s high-priestly
sacrifice developed by the author. These, I argue, are neither conceived of
nor primarily described in terms of metaphor. Third, I am not attempting to
engage the larger philosophical debates around the centrality of metaphor for
Deum: Zur theozentrischen Funktion der Christologie im Hebräerbrief,” in Der Sprechende

Gott: Gesammelte Studien zum Hebräerbrief (WUNT 240; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009),
68–71; Christian A. Eberhart, “Characteristics of Sacrificial Metaphors in Hebrews,” in
Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights (ed. Gabriella Gelardini; BINS 75; Leiden:
Brill, 2005), 37–64; Jerome Smith, A Priest Forever: A Study of Typology and Eschatology in
Hebrews (London: Sheed & Ward, 1969), esp. 112–14.
4 For example, Kenneth L. Schenck, Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Settings of
the Sacrifice (SNTSMS 143; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 45–46, 144–81,
esp. 145, 168.
Serving in the Tabernacle in Heaven 261
structuring human language, understanding, and engagement with reality.5

The terms “metaphor” and “analogy” are tightly defined below. They are
intended to indicate linguistic tropes that would be recognized within a given
linguistic system, not to point to larger categories for conceiving of the very
possibility of language and thought. To say that Hebrews’ high-priestly soteri-
ology and correlated conception of heavenly sacred space are primarily ana-
logical, not primarily metaphorical, is not, therefore, to make a claim about
either the nature of theological reasoning in general or the essential struc-
tures that underlie language and rationality. Rather, when viewed synchronic-
ally, Hebrews’ ways of speaking about the relationship between heavenly and
earthly cultic realities work by drawing analogies between assumed heavenly
realities and biblically depicted earthly ones, not by creating metaphors from
biblical descriptions of earthly structures and practices in order to explain
spiritual abstractions or name the significance of the author’s own experience
of salvation.
Models, Metaphors, and Analogies
The majority of modern interpreters of Hebrews would agree, I think, that

Hebrews’ reflection on heaven and Jesus’s high-priestly work depends upon
an appeal to the biblical depictions of the sacred space of the tabernacle
(and perhaps also to any knowledge the author had of the sacred space of the
temple in Jerusalem) and of the high priest’s activity in that space on the Day
of Atonement as a model of some kind. The crucial question is, what kind of
modeling and corresponding hermeneutic ground the author’s project?
In her trenchant and helpful monograph Metaphor and Religious Language,
Janet Martin Soskice carefully distinguishes homeomorphic models from par-
amorphic ones and examines the ways that these models, especially the latter,
relate to metaphors.6 According to Soskice, a homeomorphic model is a model
whose subject is also its source. This kind of model represents its subject by
imitating its source. A model airplane or a cardboard globe would be an exam-
ple of a homeomorphic model. The various elements that constitute the model
are arranged so as to be related in an “analogy of structure”7 to the subject
5 George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, Metaphors We Live By (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1980); Sallie McFague, Metaphorical Theology: Models of God in Religious Language
(Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982), esp. 15–16.
6 Janet Martin Soskice, Metaphor and Religious Language (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), esp. 101–3.
7 Soskice, Metaphor, 64.
262 Moffitt
being modeled. That is, the elements of a homeomorphic model are structured
to one degree or another such that they are located in relation to one another
according to the structural relations among the elements of the source being
depicted. Obviously such models are not metaphors, not least because they are
not linguistic acts.
Moreover, linguistic descriptions of these sorts of models may well apply
terms that belong to the associative network of the source—that is, the set of
terms, ideas, and relations that one takes to be fitting/natural for the original
object or state of affairs—to the model. Yet even these linguistic acts are not
metaphors. An example will illustrate the point. If one tells a child to be a good
“pilot,” to “fly” his or her model plane over to its display case, and to “land” it
there, the terms “pilot,” “fly,” and “land” are not being used metaphorically. This
is speaking analogically, by noting fitting parallels between aspects from the
associative network of a real airplane—the model’s subject and source—and
the model itself. The use of the language of “pilot,” “fly,” and “land” with refer-
ence to the model is therefore understood by the language user to correspond
in a fitting way to the model’s source. These terms are deemed appropriate to
juxtapose with the model, even though no one would mistake the child’s mov-
ing the plane around for literal flight.
The preceding points are not intended to reduce analogy to use with or to
derivations from homeomorphic models, for analogies need not be model
based at all.8 More central to the trope is the recognition that “analogical rela-
tions all refer to the same thing, they all have the same res significata but they
refer to it in different ways.”9 Thus, speaking analogically is speaking in a way
that while recognizing differences also recognizes that the application of cer-
tain terms is fitting or appropriate to an object or state of affairs.10 Analogy may
stretch the meaning of a term by using it in a new way, but such usage does not
generate a fundamentally new perspective or picture relative to the subject,
since the new application of the term does not invoke what is understood to
be a fundamentally different set of associative networks relative to the object
or state of affairs being described.11 Analogy works by noting comparisons that,
8 Soskice states (Metaphor, 66, 74) that her use of the term “analogy” is not model related.
I suspect that she means here that analogy is not related to paramorphic modeling.
Regardless, I can see no reason why analogy would necessarily be inappropriate to lin-
guistic expressions related to homeomorphic models that apply terms from associative
network of the model’s source to the model itself.
10 Ibid.
11 Soskice, Metaphor, 64–66.
in a particular linguistic and cultural context, would be understood to identify

fitting correspondences between the things being compared.
Here, too, one can helpfully see the distinction between speaking analogi-
cally about a model and speaking literally about an exact copy or replica. To
speak about an exact replica, which is by definition identical to its source apart
from its relative position in space and time, in terms appropriate to the source
is to use literal language. To speak of a homeomorphic model, which is not an
exact replica, in those same terms is not to speak literally. The small plastic
plane mentioned above cannot literally fly and land the way a replica that is a
copy of its source in every (or virtually every) respect can and, assuming it has
been built to the same standards of quality, does. Analogical speech applied
to a model, as here defined, is not, then, to be confused with literal speech
applied to an exact copy or replica of a source or prototype.
A metaphor, by way of contrast, speaks of one thing in terms of another
thing whose associative network is recognized to be fundamentally differ-
ent. A metaphor, in other words, construes a unified subject matter by way of
“a plurality of associative networks.”12 Speaking in this way necessarily gener-
ates a new picture or perspective on the subject matter.13 To say, for example,
that the brain is a computer is to construe the brain in terms otherwise for-
eign to it precisely because “computer” is a term whose associative network
is fundamentally different from that of “brain.” The metaphor may eventually
become a dead metaphor, at which point the language is taken by the speaker
to be fitting or natural. At its origin, however, the metaphor is recognizable as a
metaphor precisely because of the obvious juxtaposition of different associa-
tive networks inherent in the comparison.
Soskice argues that this sort of metaphor proposes a paramorphic model for
understanding the subject being described. Unlike a homeomorphic model,
which could be conceived of as a model of an object or state of affairs, a para-
morphic model is a model for an object or state of affairs. Such models often,
therefore, correlate with abstract reflection.14 Additionally, whereas the sub-
ject of a homeomorphic model is the same as its source, that of a paramor-
phic model necessarily differs from its source and thereby introduces elements
from different associative networks as constitutive of the model.15 Because
of these dynamics, the original “theory constitutive metaphor”—that is, the
central metaphor that proposes the paramorphic model (e.g., the brain is a

13 Soskice, Metaphor, 49–53; cf. 64–66.
264 Moffitt
computer)—can fruitfully generate additional metaphors by comparing ele-

ments of the plurality of associative networks latent within the model (e.g.,
the “brain is a computer” model might also suggest metaphors like the brain
receives “input” and “processes” it).16 Such construal can be of immense use for
theorizing about objects and states of affairs that are not directly accessible or
understood.
But how does this discussion relate to the topic at hand? Many modern inter-
preters of Hebrews have, I think, tended to assume that the depiction found in
Hebrews of Jesus serving in the heavenly tabernacle in high-priestly terms is, to
use Soskice’s categories, part of a theory constitutive metaphor that proposes
a paramorphic model for understanding an abstract state of affairs—namely,
the salvation one feels or believes oneself to have as a result of Jesus’s crucifix-
ion. The central metaphor—Jesus’s death is the ultimate atoning sacrifice—is
understood to propose a model whereby an abstract subject—the salvific ben-
efits one receives as the result of Jesus’s crucifixion—is construed in terms of
an associative network that is fundamentally different from the historical real-
ity of Jesus’s crucifixion by the Romans. The different associative network at
the heart of the metaphor is that of Jewish rituals of blood sacrifice, especially
those performed on the Day of Atonement.
G. B. Caird illustrates the preceding point well when he writes, “The lan-
guage of sacrifice is metaphorical when used of the death of Christ. Literally
the death of Christ was no sacrifice, but a criminal execution, regarded by the
one side as a political necessity and by the other as a miscarriage of justice.”17
To depict the historical event of Jesus’s crucifixion in terms of Jewish blood sac-
rifice is to speak metaphorically, because such an account brings together two
different associative networks (crucifixion and Jewish sacrifice) and thereby
enables the historical subject—Jesus’s death as a criminal—to be understood
in terms of something else entirely—the atoning sacrifices performed in the
16 Ibid.
17 G. B. Caird, The Language and Imagery of the Bible (London: Duckworth, 1980), 157.
Ekkehard W. Stegemann and Wolfgang Stegemann highlight the fundamentally mod-
ern assessment of reality that underlies such a distinction between the brute fact and
our interpretation of the meaning of the fact (“Does the Cultic Language in Hebrews
Represent Sacrificial Metaphors? Reflections on Some Basic Problems,” in Hebrews:
Contemporary Methods—New Insights [ed. Gabriella Gelardini; BINS 75; Leiden: Brill,
2005], 13–23). They argue that on its own terms Hebrews does not use cultic language as
substitute or metaphor for the real meaning of the death of Jesus. As will be clear, I agree
with them that Hebrews is not using cultic language metaphorically, but for the very dif-
ferent reason that I do not think Hebrews equates Jesus’s death with the atoning event of
offering his sacrifice to God in heaven.
Jewish temple. The central metaphor proposes a model that helps one con-
ceive of how Jesus’s death could have resulted in salvation for humanity.18
This model is thought to be especially powerful for the author of Hebrews
precisely because he presses the associative networks it brings together
(Jesus’s suffering and death, on the one hand, and Jewish sacrificial practice
and theology, on the other) to generate so many other illuminating metaphors.
These additional metaphors further contribute to reflection on the abstract
existential or spiritual aspects of the historical subject. Thus, when viewed as a
sacrifice, Jesus’s crucifixion can be construed in terms of the act of blood ablu-
tion that effects purification and redemption like the sprinkling of blood in
the holy of holies on the Day of Atonement. Jesus himself can further be con-
strued as the great high priest whose work is to offer himself to God by dying
as a sacrifice. Jesus’s death, particularly when understood as the moment of
the release of his spirit from his body, can further be conceived in terms of his
high-priestly approach to God. The separation of his spirit from his body
and his passing into heaven upon his death can even be construed as the
high priest’s annual act of passing through the inner veil of the temple and
into the holy of holies. The author no doubt thinks that from the perspective
of the central metaphor the biblical depiction of the tabernacle offered fer-
tile ground from which many other secondary metaphors could be generated
(cf. Heb 9:5). If the writer’s real subject is “the death of Jesus is the ultimate
atoning event,” then this sort of metaphorical understanding of Hebrews’
theological project is almost certainly correct.
The picture shifts dramatically, however, if the author’s soteriological cen-
ter of gravity does not revolve around the supposed “crucifixion as ultimate
atoning event” metaphor. I have argued elsewhere that Hebrews attempts to
correlate the basic, proto-creedal narrative of early Christian proclamation—
the heavenly Son of God became the incarnate Jesus, suffered and died, rose
again, ascended into heaven, has taken his place at God’s right hand, and will
return to bring salvation to those who wait for him—with the irreducible
18 While the category of “metaphor” has become somewhat fashionable in the last forty
or so years, something like the understanding of Hebrews just described seems to be in
play in much modern interpretation of Hebrews as a way of relating Jesus’s death to his
exaltation and high-priestly work even though the language of “metaphor” is not used to
describe such interpretations. So, e.g., Joseph F. McFadyen, Through Eternal Spirit: A Study
of Hebrews, James, and 1 Peter (New York: Doran, 1925), 129, 136, 147–48; Shinya Nomoto,
“Herkunft und Struktur der Hohenpriestervorstellung im Hebräerbrief,” NovT 10 (1968):
1–25, esp. 17–18, 23–25; James W. Thompson, The Beginnings of Christian Philosophy:
The Epistle to the Hebrews (CBQMS 13; Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of
America, 1982), esp. 107–8.
266 Moffitt
rocess of Jewish blood sacrifice.19 This account suggests that the central event
p
that effects atonement, that is, the ultimate purification and redemption of
humanity, cannot be reduced or collapsed into the death of Jesus anymore
than the atoning effects of the Levitical sacrifices can be reduced to the act of
slaughtering the victim. Rather, the focal point is, for the author, centered upon
the return of the resurrected, and therefore still incarnate, Son back into the
heavenly presence of the Father and the angels.
These observations alone are not enough to substantiate the claim being
advanced here, that Hebrews is not driven by a paramorphic model whose
core is theory constituting metaphor, for one could simply move the center of
the model to something like the ascension or exaltation of Jesus.20 The crucial
piece that would significantly alter the assessment of the author’s basic her-
meneutic concerns the cosmology that underlies his argumentation. Once this
issue is raised, one comes face to face with the long and much debated ques-
tion of whether Hebrews is at its core driven more by something like a Platonic
or Philonic cosmology or by some permutation of a Jewish apocalyptic under-
standing of the structure and stuff of the universe. I will not rehearse the vari-
ety of views regarding this longstanding scholarly divide.21 Instead, as I also
argue elsewhere,22 I assume here that the dualities one finds in Hebrews are
more heavily dependent upon and influenced by some form of Jewish apoca-
lypticism than by some kind of Platonic idealism.
19 David M. Moffitt, Atonement and the Logic of Resurrection in the Epistle to the Hebrews
(NovTSup 141; Leiden: Brill, 2011), esp. 43, 292–96, 300–303. See also my essay, “Blood,
Life, and Atonement: Reassessing Hebrews’ Christological Appropriation of Yom Kippur,”
in The Day of Atonement: Its Interpretations in Early Jewish and Christian Traditions
(ed. Thomas Hieke and Tobias Nicklas; TBN 15; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 211–24.
20 See Douglas Farrow, Ascension and Ecclesia: On the Significance of the Doctrine of the
Ascension for Ecclesiology and Christian Cosmology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999),
esp. 33–40.
21 While now dated, see L. D. Hurst, The Epistle to the Hebrews: Its Background of Thought
(SNTSMS 65; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990). See, more recently, Eric F.
Mason, “ ‘Sit at My Right Hand’: Enthronement and the Heavenly Sanctuary in Hebrews,”
in A Teacher for All Generations: Essays in Honor of James C. VanderKam (2 vols.; ed. Eric F.
Mason et al.; SJSJ 153; Leiden: Brill, 2012), 2:901–16.
22 Moffitt, Atonement, esp. 145–81, 300–303. See also my recent essay, “Perseverance, Purity,
and Identity: Exploring Hebrews’ Eschatological Worldview, Ethics, and In-Group Bias,”
in Sensitivity to Outsiders: Exploring the Dynamic Relationship between Mission and Ethics
in the New Testament and Early Christianity (ed. Jacobus Kok et al.; WUNT 2/364; Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 357–81.
The contribution I seek to make here has to do with the assessment of the
underlying model the author assumes when reflecting on the heavenly tab-
ernacle and Jesus’s high-priestly service there. If Hebrews imagines reality to
consist of the earth and multiple heavens—the highest of which contains the
heavenly tabernacle and holy of holies, where God sits enthroned—populated
by angelic priests who minister there, and if those heavenly realities legitimate
and structure the earthly cult, then the possibility of a thoroughly different
model for understanding Hebrews’ application of cultic language to Jesus
emerges. Such an understanding of heavenly space would suggest that the
author of Hebrews, as is the case with some other apocalyptic Jews, under-
stands the relationship between the heavenly and earthly cults in terms of a
homeomorphic model that allowed for numerous analogies to be drawn, not
in terms of a paramorphic model that enables metaphorical reflection. I turn,
then, to a brief examination of Hebrews’ conception of heaven and the heav-
enly tabernacle.
Hebrews’ Cosmology, the Heavens, and the Heavenly Tabernacle
Edward Adams has recently argued that Hebrews’ worldview assumes a cos-
mology not easily squared with the kind of Platonic cosmology that scholars
such as James Thompson23 have sought to link with the text.24 Adams points
out, rightly in my view, that Hebrews does not embrace an anti-materialist
dualism, nor does the author ever judge creation to be inherently negative.25
Additional critiques of interpretations of Hebrews that rely too heavily on
Platonic or Philonic cosmological commitments have recently been made by,
23 Thompson, Beginnings, esp. 152–62; and, more recently, “What has Middle Platonism
to Do with Hebrews?,” in Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews: A Resource for Students
(ed. Eric F. Mason and Kevin B. McCruden; SBLRBS 66; Atlanta: Society of Biblical
Literature, 2011), 31–52. Similarly, see, e.g., Wilfried Eisele, Ein unerschütterliches Reich: Die
mittelplatonische Umformung des Parusiegedankens im Hebräerbrief (BZNW 116; Berlin:
de Gruyter, 2003), and Luke Timothy Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary (New Testament
Library; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2006).
24 Edward Adams, “The Cosmology of Hebrews,” in The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian
Theology (ed. Richard Bauckham et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 122–39.
25 I have also argued that the duality in Hebrews between heaven and earth does not track
out in terms of a material versus spiritual or intelligible realm; see Moffitt, Atonement,
esp. 301–2.
268 Moffitt
among others, Eric F. Mason26 and Scott D. Mackie.27 Both Mason and Mackie
highlight the similarities between Hebrews and Jewish apocalyptic texts, espe-
cially the important motif of Jesus’s enthronement in the heavenly sanctuary.
Hebrews’ emphasis on Jesus’s heavenly enthronement raises the question as to
how the author conceives of the heavenly tabernacle where he says Jesus has
entered and now ministers (cf. Heb 7:25–26; 8:1–2; 9:11–12, 23–24).
In a 1978 article in Semeia, George MacRae argues for the importance of rec-
ognizing two different conceptions of the relationship between heaven and the
heavenly temple at play in Hebrews.28 MacRae draws attention to the impor-
tant point that the conception of heaven as temple is different from that of a
temple in heaven. The former, he claims, is more associated with a Philonic or
Platonic cosmology and the latter with more apocalyptic cosmologies. For rea-
sons I discuss below, I do not find his claim that Hebrews combines these two
notions compelling. The importance of highlighting the distinction between
these two concepts of the heavenly temple, however, is hard to overstate.
More recently, Jonathan Klawans has focused attention on this same
distinction.29 Klawans notes that scholars sometimes conflate the notion of
a temple in heaven (upon which the temple in Jerusalem is modeled) with
that of heaven as a temple (where the Jerusalem temple complex—i.e., the
forecourt and temple sancta together—serves as a microcosm of the universe),
even though Second Temple and early Common Era texts that speak of a heav-
enly sanctuary typically attest either one conception or the other.
Klawans also notes that in cases where the Jerusalem temple is taken to be a
microcosm of the cosmos, the entire universe is spoken of as God’s temple. The
earth is likened to the forecourt of the temple complex, while heaven is the tem-
ple itself—God’s sanctuary. In the other model, the temple complex on earth is
in some way conceived of as a representation of an actual structure in heaven.
In this latter case the earth is not viewed as the forecourt of the cosmic temple
complex, and heaven is not identified with the temple or the inner s anctuary.
26 He makes the point in several publications, but see especially, Eric F. Mason, ‘You Are a
Priest Forever’: Second Temple Jewish Messianism and the Priestly Christology of the Epistle
to the Hebrews (STDJ 74; Leiden: Brill, 2008). In a more recent study Mason highlights the
fact that Hebrews makes a connection, common in apocalyptic texts, between the heav-
enly sanctuary and the divine throne (“ ‘Sit at My Right Hand,’ ” esp. 907–16).
27 See esp. Scott D. Mackie, “Ancient Jewish Mystical Motifs in Hebrews’ Theology of Access
and Entry Exhortations,” NTS 58 (2011): 88–104.
28 George W. MacRae, “Heavenly Temple and Eschatology in the Letter to the Hebrews,”
Semeia 12 (1978): 179–99.
29 Jonathan Klawans, Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in the
Study of Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 111–44.
Rather, just as there is an especially sacred space on earth that is divided into
various spaces and sancta that grow progressively more sacred until one comes
to the inner sanctuary, where God’s presence dwells on earth most fully, so
also in heaven there is an especially sacred space divided into various spaces
and sancta that grow progressively more holy until one reaches that most
holy place where God’s presence dwells in heaven most fully (see, e.g., 1 En. 14;
2 En. esp. 20:1–21:6). Unsurprisingly, this latter idea correlates with a highly
developed understanding of angels as God’s heavenly priests and human
priests as their corresponding ministers on earth. There is also here a common
conception of the heavenly realm consisting of multiple tiers or “heavens” (e.g.,
2 En. 3–22; T. Levi 3:1–10). One of the key biblical grounds for this conception
of reality is a particular interpretation of God’s repeated admonishments to
Moses in Exod 25:9, 40 (see also 26:30 and 27:8) to make the earthly tabernacle
and its accoutrements in accordance with what he had seen on the mountain.
Indeed, how one interprets these passages in Exodus and the revelation
given to Moses on the mountain becomes critical at precisely this point. Philo
provides a particularly clear example of a Platonic interpretation of Exod 25:9
in his Quaestiones et solutions in Exodum II. When speaking of Moses being
“shown” the pattern for the tabernacle on the mountain, Philo says that Moses
did not literally “see” anything, since human eyes cannot see the intelligible,
immaterial forms. The language of “seeing” is only a symbol to indicate that his
mind or soul had a clear perception of the intelligible realities (QE 2.52, 82; cf.
Mos. 2.74–76).
Because Moses had this “vision” of the forms imprinted in his mind, he was
able to build the tabernacle complex as a microcosm of the universe. Philo,
therefore, shows how elements of the earthly tabernacle represent aspects of
the cosmos (Mos. 2.80–107). He emphasizes, for example, that certain numbers
of pillars represent respectively the source from which the stuff of earth was
formed and the senses that humans use to interact with the material world
(Mos. 2.80–81). The four kinds and colors of material used for the woven cover-
ings correlate to the four elements out of which the world was made (Mos. 2.88;
Congr. 116–117). The altar of incense is in the middle of the first sanctum and
therefore stands between earth and water (Mos. 2.101) and is itself a symbol
of the earth (Mos. 2.104), while the seven-branched candelabra is a symbol of
heaven with its seven planets (Mos. 2.102–103).
Hebrews also appeals to this section of Exodus. The author cites Exod
25:40 in 8:5, just after saying that Jesus has entered the true tabernacle where
God is enthroned in heaven (8:1–2), and shortly before he lists some of the
details of the earthly tabernacle and draws comparisons between them and
Jesus’s ministry (9:1–10:22). Notably, however, nothing like Philo’s c osmological
270 Moffitt
e xplanations of the construction of and items in the tabernacle occurs in

Hebrews. Rather than show how elements from the outer part of the earthly
structure represent, for example, the elements from which the earth is fash-
ioned, Hebrews sets out to demonstrate that just as the earthly tabernacle had
certain implements, necessary rituals, and sancta in which the priests and high
priests performed their ministries (9:1–10, 19–22), so also must Jesus perform
certain rituals in the sancta in heaven where he engages in his high-priestly
ministry (9:11–14; 23–26; cf. 5:1; 7:27; 8:1–5).
In Heb 8:4–5 this point is made with some clarity. The author states in 8:1–2
that Jesus is the great high priest in heaven. In 8:4 he notes that if Jesus were
on earth, he would be disqualified by the Law from serving as even a priest.
Jesus, he appears to say, cannot minister as one of the regular priests on earth,
let alone as a high priest. Given that the author refers in 8:4 to the regular
priests who ministered only in the forecourt and the first sanctum of the tab-
ernacle, his comment in 8:5a that those priests serve in a copy and shadow
of the heavenly things implies that the forecourt and initial tent correspond
in some way to heavenly realities. The forecourt and initial sanctum, in other
words, are not conceived of as representing the lower, earthly or material ele-
ments of the cosmos, but as copies of things in heaven. The earthly priests are
not said to serve in that part of the tabernacle that primarily represented the
lower parts of the cosmos while the high priest alone enters that space which
represents the realities that cannot be seen (cf. Philo, Spec. 1.72). Instead, the
author of Hebrews speaks of the whole tabernacle complex as being related
to the structure Moses saw in the heavenly realm. Philo’s view that the earthly
temple complex symbolizes the entire cosmos, which is the true temple (so,
e.g., Spec. 1.66; Somn. 1.215; Mos. 2.194), therefore differs markedly from that of
the author of Hebrews, who looks to the whole structure of the earthly tab-
ernacle as reflecting realities located in heaven. This is an important contrast
between these two authors.
This last observation suggests that Hebrews works with a more straightfor-
ward, non-metaphorical interpretation of Exod 25:40 in Heb 8:5 than the one
given by Philo regarding Exod 25:9 (see also his interpretation of Exod 25:40
in QE 2.82). If the author of Hebrews assumed, as at least some apocalyptic
Jews did, that Moses looked into heaven (or even ascended into heaven30) and
saw the heavenly tabernacle/temple structure there, then the language of Exod
25:40 of the pattern of the heavenly realities being “shown” (τὸν δειχθέντα) to
Moses is not a metaphor for mental apprehension of intelligible and immate-
rial forms, as is clearly the case in Philo.
30 For evidence for this view see Moffitt, Atonement, 150–62.
Moreover, this more literal interpretation of Exod 25:40 would further imply
that the spaces of and practices carried out in the earthly tabernacle would be
properly organized and composed along the lines described above as “an anal-
ogy of structure.” Rather than conceiving of the totality of the universe itself
as the true temple complex, this kind of cosmology would assume that two
legitimate temples, as well as two legitimate priesthoods,31 existed in the uni-
verse. One of these, the one in heaven, is the source. The other one, on earth, is
a (homeomorphic) model that reflects the heavenly source.
As the contrast between Hebrews and Philo already implies, Hebrews attests
to the temple/tabernacle in heaven concept. Other evidence also points toward
this conclusion. I will not here repeat the arguments I have outlined elsewhere
for the significance of Hebrews’ angelology and contrasting anthropology with
respect to the idea of a temple complex in heaven or for the idea that the tab-
ernacle structure Jesus entered is laid out in a way similar to the earthly one.32
Instead, I focus on another aspect of the language in Hebrews that contrasts
with Philonic language and cosmology but correlates well with the concept of
a tabernacle in heaven—namely, the fact that the author believes in the exis-
tence of multiple heavens.
In Heb 4:14 the writer describes Jesus passing through “the heavens” (τοὺς
οὐρανούς). Jesus is said to be higher “than the heavens” (τῶν οὐρανῶν) in 7:26.
In 8:1 the author claims that Jesus is seated on the throne at the right hand of
the Most High “in the heavens” (ἐν τοῖς οὐρανοῖς). The sacred heavenly things
that Jesus’s sacrifice purifies are identified in 9:23 as being “in the heavens” (ἐν
τοῖς οὐρανοῖς). The congregation of the firstborn mentioned in 12:23 is enrolled
“in the heavens” (ἐν οὐρανοῖς). According to 12:25, in language evocative of
Jewish apocalyptic texts, Jesus is presumably (cf. 1:2) the one who admonishes
the readers “from the heavens” (ἀπ’ οὐρανῶν).33
Were these the only references to heaven in Hebrews, there would likely
be less argument over the points being addressed here. The crux interpretum,
however, lies in Heb 9:24, where the author not only refers to Jesus entering the
31 The argument for the legitimacy of Jesus’s high-priestly status in Heb 7 presupposes, I have
argued, the legitimacy of both the earthly, Levitical priesthood and the heavenly priest-
hood. See David M. Moffitt, “Jesus the High Priest and the Mosaic Law: Reassessing the
Appeal to the Heavenly Realm in the letter ‘To the Hebrews,’ ” in Problems in Translating
Texts about Jesus: Proceedings from the International Society of Biblical Literature Annual
Meeting 2008 (ed. Mishael Caspi and John T. Greene; Lewiston, N.Y.: Mellen Press, 2011)
187–224.
32 See Moffitt, Atonement, esp. 118–44 and 220–25 respectively.
33 The plural form of οὐρανός also occurs in Heb 1:10, though this is obviously due to the
author’s biblical Vorlage.
272 Moffitt
singular “heaven itself” (αὐτὸν τὸν οὐρανόν) but also puts this language in appo-
sition to the idea that Jesus entered the heavenly sanctuary. This break from
the author’s usual pattern is sometimes taken as evidence that he thinks of the
cosmos as the true temple complex—the earth is the cosmic forecourt and
heaven itself is coextensive with the cosmic temple, as in the Philonic model.
Indeed, MacRae appeals to this verse as evidence that the author thought of
heaven as cosmic sanctuary, like Philo.34 But does this singular reference to
“heaven itself” demand a Platonic or Philonic interpretation?
In addition to 9:24, two other uses of οὐρανός in the singular form occur in
Hebrews (11:12 and 12:26). Both of these latter instances of the term occur, how-
ever, in the context of biblical allusions. The singular form of the word at these
points most likely reflects the direct influence of the versions of the biblical
passages as the author knows them. This recognition is nevertheless important
because it highlights the fact that the dependence of someone, like this author,
on a Greek version of Jewish scriptures might allow that person to use the word
“heaven” in both plural and singular forms without necessarily implying that
the change in number entails any change in the reality to which the author
assumes the term refers.35
In fact, one commonly finds precisely this switching between the plural
and singular forms of the word in apocalyptically oriented early Jewish and
Christian texts written in Greek. Thus Paul, who clearly believes in at least
three heavens (2 Cor 12:2), often refers to heaven in the singular (e.g., Rom 1:18;
10:6; 1 Cor 15:47; Gal 1:8). He can even use οὐρανός in the singular and plural
forms back to back in 2 Cor 5:1–2 with apparent reference to the same reality
34 MacRae argues that both concepts are found in Hebrews because the author, who
believed in the cosmos as temple model, accommodated his language at points to his
audience who embraced the more apocalyptic concept of a temple in heaven (“Heavenly
Temple,” 186–88).
35 I have asserted elsewhere (Atonement, 231 n. 36) that the author distinguishes between
created heavens and the uncreated heavens. I am no longer confident that this view is
correct. The evidence presented here (and particularly the fact that the author speaks of
the “heavens” being changed, Heb 1:10–11, and of the “heaven” being shaken, Heb 12:26)
seems to suggest instead that he is merely adopting biblical language and assuming that
the plural and singular forms are interchangeable ways of referring to the same reality.
There are things that are “unshakeable” and “remain” after the final shaking (Heb 12:27),
but such distinctions do not correlate neatly in Hebrews with a “heaven” and “earth” dual-
ism. It seems to be that just as some of the heavenly things, like the earthly things, require
purification (Heb 9:23), so also at least some of the heavenly things, like the earthly things,
will be subject to the final, eschatological transformation (Heb 1:10–11; 12:26).
(cf. 1 Thess 1:10; 4:16).36 This variation between forms stands in marked con-
trast to non-apocalyptic Jewish authors such as Philo and Josephus. The latter
hold the view that the cosmos is God’s temple complex—with heaven itself
being the cosmic sanctuary/temple. In keeping with this cosmology, both of
these authors use the singular οὐρανός consistently throughout their writings.
This usage agrees with Greek philosophical speculation about the nature of
the cosmos, where the singular form is by far the norm.37
Given that Hebrews’ use of the plural and singular forms of οὐρανός fits with
the practice of others of the same time period who believed in multiple heav-
ens and often also attest the idea of a temple in the heavens, the use of the
singular in 9:24 cannot bear the weight that MacRae tries to place upon it.
More plausible is the interpretation advanced by Otfried Hofius that “heaven
itself” in 9:24 refers to the highest of the heavens, the place where the heavenly
holy of holies of the tabernacle/temple was thought to be located (see, e.g.,
T. Levi 5:1).38 That Jesus has entered the highest heaven coheres well with the
language of Jesus passing “through the heavens” (4:14) and being now higher
“than the heavens” (7:26) while still also being “in the heavens” (8:1). Jesus,
that is, has not left the heavens, as one might imagine someone in Philo’s or
Plato’s universe having to do were that person able to be absorbed into the
ultimate realm of the divine that exists outside the cosmos. Instead, Jesus has
36 I do not here provide an exhaustive list of references, but only some of the clearer exam-
ples. In the New Testament see Mark 1:10–11; 11:25; 12:25; 13:25, 32; Col 1:5, 16, 20; 4:11; 1 Pet
1:4, 12; 3:22; 2 Pet 1:18; 3:5. The phenomenon occurs in the Greek translation of Jub. 2:2, 16;
11:8, as well as of 1 En. 18:3–10. See also throughout the T. 12 Patr. (e.g., T. Levi 2:6, 9; 5:1);
Apocr. Ezek. 2:1; 5:1; Apoc. Ezra 1:7, 14; Apoc. Sedr. esp. 2:3–5; 3 Bar. 2:5; 11:2 (along with clear
references to a first heaven, second heaven, etc., throughout); T. Ab. 4:5; 7:4.
37 As is well known, the plural form of οὐρανός is extremely rare in Greek literature before
the Septuagint (see, e.g., F. Torm, “Der Pluralis Οὐρανοί,” ZNW 33 [1934]: 48–50; Peter
Katz, Philo’s Bible: The Aberrant Text of Bible Quotations in Some Philonic Writings and Its
Place in the Textual History of the Greek Bible [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1950], 141–46). A search of the TLG turns up the following evidence. The pre-Socratic phi-
losopher Anaximander is attributed with having conceived of multiple heavens in the
cosmos. Idaeus may have thought along similar lines. Aesop’s fable about the Peacock
and the Crane uses the plural form once. Aristotle, in a handful of passages, entertains
the possibility that more than one οὐρανός exists in the cosmos, only to dismiss the idea
(so also Theophrastus). The plural form occurs one time in the Catasterisimi attributed
to Eratosthenes.
38 Otfried Hofius, Der Vorhang vor dem Thron Gottes: Eine exegetisch-religionsgeschichtliche
Untersuchung zu Hebräer 6,19f. und 10,19f. (WUNT 14; Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1972), 70–71.
A number of commentators follow his lead to one degree or another (e.g., Attridge,
Hebrews, 263; William L. Lane, Hebrews 9–13 [WBC 47B; Dallas: Word, 1991], 248).
274 Moffitt
been invited to ascend to the highest place in the heavens, the place above all
the other heavens where the heavenly holy of holies and the heavenly throne
of God are.
The preceding points suggest that the author of Hebrews held to a cosmol-
ogy along the lines attested in Jewish apocalyptic texts that imagine multiple
heavens with a tabernacle or temple structure located in the highest heaven.
As his interpretation of Exod 25:40 in Heb 8:5 indicates, the heavenly taber-
nacle served as the source for the earthly structure. These points support the
conclusion that the author of Hebrews works with something like what was
identified above as a homeomorphic model when he reflects on the relation-
ship between the earthly and heavenly sacred spaces. In the author’s view, the
real subject of the earthly sacred space is also its source—the heavenly taber-
nacle. Thus the earthly space neither is an exact replica of the heavenly tab-
ernacle nor represents the entirety of the cosmos. Rather, because Moses saw
the pattern of the heavenly edifice, he built the earthly one in such a way as
to have an analogous structure, even if the earthly structure is only a shadowy
sketch. This analogy of structure further implies, however, a fitting set of cor-
respondences or analogies between, on one hand, the earthly tabernacle and
the activities that take place within it and, on the other hand, the heavenly
tabernacle and the activities that occur there.
Hebrews and Analogy
The preceding discussion suggests that the author of Hebrews has a more con-
crete conception of heavenly space than is sometimes thought. Some have
argued that, while Hebrews does speak in terms of a heavenly sanctuary and
multiple heavens, there is nevertheless a strong Hellenizing bent to this lan-
guage similar to what one finds in Philo, in that the author ultimately con-
ceptualizes these spaces in terms of the interior realm of the human being.39
If, however, the author thinks of the resurrected Jesus ascending bodily
through the multiplicity of heavens and appearing before God in the holy of
holies in the highest heaven, this reduction of heavenly space to the interiority
of the human being is no longer tenable.
A better solution likely lies in the arguments of some recent work, such
as that of Loren Stuckenbruck, that takes seriously the fact that in some of
the apocalyptic material at Qumran the cosmological dualism between the
heavenly and earthly realms—together with the spiritual battles being fought
between the good and evil angels—is viewed as being directly related to the
39 See esp. Attridge, Hebrews, 222–24.

interior realm of human existence.40 Hebrews may well think in more con-
crete terms about atonement as occurring when Jesus ascended bodily into the
sacred space of the heavenly holy of holies and recognize that this has direct
implications for the interior purification of the human being (e.g., Heb 9:14)
without having to reduce the former to the latter.
Be that as it may, the cosmology of Hebrews and the correlated concep-
tion of the tabernacle in heaven suggest that if a human being were to ascend
into that heavenly space, then the application of language from the realm of
earthly priestly service to that figure would not be a matter of metaphorical
reflection. Rather, it would be fitting to appeal to the associative network of
the earthly tabernacle/temple as a way to describe an ascent to the uppermost
heavenly things because that ascending person would be entering the inner
sanctum of the heavenly tabernacle, the very source that determines the struc-
ture of the earthly model. In other words, one would be speaking by analogy,
not metaphor.
The author of Hebrews goes even a step further when in Heb 7 he presents
an extended argument to demonstrate the legitimacy of Jesus’s high-priestly
status in spite of the fact that Jesus comes from the tribe of Judah, not that of
Levi. Such an argument not only indicates that the author is aware that he is
not working in metaphor (why would it be necessary to go to these lengths to
demonstrate the legitimacy of a metaphor?), but also goes even beyond anal-
ogy. Jesus is literally a high priest for the author of Hebrews.
The author’s analogical reasoning is evident, however, when he speaks about
Jesus presenting himself to God in the heavenly tabernacle in sacrificial terms.
As was noted above (pp. 264–65), the general trend in the modern period has
been to read Hebrews in terms of a paramorphic model driven by the consti-
tutive metaphor “Jesus’s death is the ultimate atoning sacrifice.” If instead the
author thinks in terms of the ascension and appearance of the resurrected Jesus
as the great high priest in the presence of God in the highest heaven—in the
heavenly holy of holies of the heavenly tabernacle—then the author is work-
ing not metaphorically, but analogically. Just as (1) the high priest in the earthly
tabernacle brought the blood of the sacrificial victim into the earthly holy of
holies and offered it to God once a year, and just as (2) it was the power of the
life of the victim contained within that blood that effected atonement (see Lev
17:11; cf. Lev 16:15–16), so also, by analogy, (1) Jesus, the heavenly high priest,
40 Loren T. Stuckenbruck, “The Interiorization of Dualism within the Human Being in
Second Temple Judaism: The Treatise of the Two Spirits (1QS III:13–IV:26) in Its Tradition-
Historical Context,” in Light against Darkness: Dualism in Ancient Mediterranean Religion
and the Contemporary World (ed. Armin Lange et al.; JAJS 2; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 2011), 145–68, see esp. 166–68.
276 Moffitt
entered the heavenly holy of holies once and offered himself alive to God, and
(2) it is his resurrection life, his now indestructible human life, that has the
power to do what the life of animals could not—provide ultimate atonement.
To apply these terms and categories to the resurrected and ascended Jesus is
not metaphor, because the associative field of Jewish blood sacrifice is fitting
for the context of Jesus’s high-priestly ministry in the heavenly tabernacle, the
source and subject of the earthly model. Yet this language is also not literal.
That is to say, Jesus does not literally sprinkle, smear, or pour out his blood
at God’s throne in heaven. The fact that Hebrews describes Jesus’s offering in
terms of himself (Heb 7:27; 9:25–26), his body (10:10), and his blood (9:12, 14;
12:24) shows that the author is not at these points thinking literally of Jesus
manipulating his blood in heaven. Rather, he is thinking in terms of analogy
to the blood rituals. Just as blood, as the substance that contained life, was
brought by the earthly high priest into God’s presence in the holy of holies
on Day of Atonement and was sprinkled there to effect a limited atonement,
so Jesus, the heavenly high priest, took himself into God’s heavenly presence
and offered himself to God to effect ultimate atonement. Hebrews’ sacrificial
language of Jesus offering his body, blood, and self to God is often thought to
be part of a metaphor in which these terms are all ways of describing Jesus’s
death. This language is instead, I am arguing, analogy that highlights the cen-
tral importance of Jesus’s resurrection life as that sacrifice that Jesus presents
and God accepts. Jesus’s life, by analogy to sacrifice of animal blood in the
earthly tabernacle, has been offered to the Father in the heavenly holy of holies
to make atonement for sins.
Conclusion
The larger point of this study has been to explore the possibility that sacred
space and sacrificial language in Hebrews are not driven by a metaphorical
theology that attempts to unpack the spiritual, heavenly, or existential sig-
nificance of Jesus’s crucifixion. The ideas that there is a tabernacle/temple in
heaven, that this tabernacle is the source for the earthly structure, and that
Jesus rose, ascended bodily, and entered that heavenly tabernacle allow for a
theological model that has analogy at its core, not metaphor. Indeed, the rela-
tionship between the earthly and heavenly tabernacles the author assumes,
described here in terms of a homeomorphic model, appears to ground an
analogical hermeneutic that allows him to explore the biblical depictions of
the earthly sacred space and the priestly service done there in order to better
understand what Jesus is doing in the heavenly space and how his heavenly
service effects atonement.
In Hebrews Jesus’s death is one element of a larger ritual process that cul-
minates in his entry into the heavenly tabernacle. There he presents him-
self before God as the offering that makes full atonement for God’s people.
The Epistle to the Hebrews is not, therefore, structured around an extended
metaphor that focuses exclusively on Jesus’s death, something that is in any
case hard to square with the actual ritual process of sacrifice as described in
Leviticus. Rather, the author takes sacrificial practice in the earthly sacred
space of the tabernacle/temple to offer analogies for the way things must be
in the heavenly tabernacle precisely because the earthly space is a model of
the heavenly space. In this way the author correlates the larger early Christian
story of Jesus with the biblical pattern of sacrifice and shows, by analogy, how
Jesus’s death, resurrection, and ascension into God’s presence in the heavenly
holy of holies effect ultimate atonement.
Bibliography
Lane, William L. Hebrews 9–13. Word Biblical Commentaries 47B. Dallas: Word, 1991.
Other Literature
Adams, Edward. “The Cosmology of Hebrews.” Pages 122–39 in The Epistle to the
Hebrews and Christian Theology. Edited by Richard Bauckham, Daniel R. Driver,
Trevor A. Hart, and Nathan MacDonald. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009.
Backhaus, Knut. “Per Christum in Deum: Zur theozentrischen Funktion der Christologie
im Hebräerbrief.” Pages 49–79 in Der Sprechende Gott: Gesammelte Studien zum
Hebräerbrief. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 240.
Caird, G. B. The Language and Imagery of the Bible. London: Duckworth, 1980.
Eberhart, Christian A. “Characteristics of Sacrificial Metaphors in Hebrews.” Pages
37–64 in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights. Edited by Gabriella
Gelardini. Biblical Interpretation Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
Eisele, Wilfried. Ein unerschütterliches Reich: Die mittelplatonische Umformung des
Parusiegedankens im Hebräerbrief. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentli-
che Wissenschaft 116. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2003.
Farrow, Douglas. Ascension and Ecclesia: On the Significance of the Doctrine of the
Ascension for Ecclesiology and Christian Cosmology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999.
278 Moffitt
Hofius, Otfried. Der Vorhang vor dem Thron Gottes: Eine exegetisch-religionsgeschichtli-
che Untersuchung zu Hebräer 6,19f. und 10,19f. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen
zum Neuen Testament 14. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1972.
1990.
Isaacs, Marie E. Sacred Space: An Approach to the Theology of the Epistle to the Hebrews.
Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series 73. Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1992.
Katz, Peter. Philo’s Bible: The Aberrant Text of Bible Quotations in Some Philonic Writings
and Its Place in the Textual History of the Greek Bible. Cambridge: Cambridge
Klawans, Jonathan. Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in
Lakoff, George, and Mark Johnson. Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1980.
Mackie, Scott D. “Ancient Jewish Mystical Motifs in Hebrews’ Theology of Access and
Entry Exhortations.” New Testament Studies 58 (2011): 88–104.
Semeia 12 (1978): 179–99.
Mason, Eric F. “ ‘Sit at My Right Hand’: Enthronement and the Heavenly Sanctuary in
Hebrews.” Pages 901–16 in vol. 2 of A Teacher for All Generations: Essays in Honor of
James C. VanderKam. Edited by Eric F. Mason (general editor), and Kelley Coblentz
Bautch, Angela Kim Harkins, and Daniel A. Machiela (volume editors). Supplements
to the Journal for the Study of Judaism 153. Leiden: Brill, 2012.
———. “You Are a Priest Forever”: Second Temple Jewish Messianism and the Priestly
Christology of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah
74. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
McFadyen, Joseph F. Through Eternal Spirit: A Study of Hebrews, James, and 1 Peter.
New York: Doran, 1925.
McFague, Sallie. Metaphorical Theology: Models of God in Religious Language.
———. “Blood, Life, and Atonement: Reassessing Hebrews’ Christological
Appropriation of Yom Kippur.” Pages 211–24 in The Day of Atonement: Its
Interpretations in Early Jewish and Christian Traditions. Edited by Thomas Hieke and
Tobias Nicklas. Themes in Biblical Narrative 15. Leiden: Brill, 2012.
———. “Jesus the High Priest and the Mosaic Law: Reassessing the Appeal to the
Heavenly Realm in the letter ‘To the Hebrews.’ ” Pages 187–224 in Problems in
Translating Texts about Jesus: Proceedings from the International Society of Biblical
Literature Annual Meeting 2008. Edited by Mishael Caspi and John T. Greene.
Lewiston, N.Y.: Mellen, 2011.
———. “Perseverance, Purity, and Identity: Exploring Hebrews’ Eschatological World-
view, Ethics, and In-Group Bias.” Pages 357–81 in Sensitivity to Outsiders: Exploring
the Dynamic Relationship between Mission and Ethics in the New Testament and Early
Christianity. Edited by Jacobus (Kobus) Kok, Tobias Nicklas, Dieter T. Roth, and
Christopher M. Hays. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
2/364. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014.
Nomoto, Shinya. “Herkunft und Struktur der Hohenpriestervorstellung im
Hebräerbrief.” Novum Testamentum 10 (1968): 1–25.
Schenck, Kenneth L. Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Settings of the
Sacrifice. Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 143. Cambridge:
Smith, Jerome. A Priest Forever: A Study of Typology and Eschatology in Hebrews.
London: Sheed & Ward, 1969.
Soskice, Janet Martin. Metaphor and Religious Language. Oxford: Clarendon, 1985.
Stegemann, Ekkehard W., and Wolfgang Stegemann. “Does the Cultic Language in
Hebrews Represent Sacrificial Metaphors? Reflections on Some Basic Problems.”
Pages 13–23 in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights. Edited by Gabriella
Stuckenbruck, Loren T. “The Interiorization of Dualism within the Human Being in
Second Temple Judaism: The Treatise of the Two Spirits (1QS III:13–IV:26) in Its
Tradition-Historical Context.” Pages 145–68 in Light against Darkness: Dualism in
Ancient Mediterranean Religion and the Contemporary World. Edited by Armin
Lange, Eric M. Meyers, Bennie H. Reynolds III, and Randall Styers. Journal of
Ancient Judaism Supplements 2. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011.
Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series 13. Washington, D.C.: Catholic Bibli-
cal Association of America, 1982.
———. “What has Middle Platonism to Do with Hebrews?” Pages 32–52 in Reading the
Epistle to the Hebrews: A Resource for Students. Edited by Eric F. Mason and Kevin B.
McCruden. Society of Biblical Literature Resources for Biblical Studies 66. Atlanta:
Torm, F. “Der Pluralis Οὐρανοί.” Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und
die Kunde der älteren Kirche 33 (1934): 48–50.
Part 4
Reception-Historical and Hermeneutical Contexts
∵
Jesus the Incarnate High Priest: Intracanonical
Readings of Hebrews and John*
Harold W. Attridge
Introduction
The history of interpretation of the Epistle to the Hebrews has attracted atten-
tion in recent scholarly discussion.1 As a small contribution to that larger con-
versation, this chapter will explore the phenomenon of intracanonical readings
of the Epistle, with particular attention to the way in which the Fourth Gospel
and the Epistle to the Hebrews were used for mutual interpretation.
This inquiry was stimulated by an exploration of John 17 and its character-
ization as a “high priestly” prayer.2 That essay, which argued that the evangelist
gestured toward a priestly Christology but severely qualified it, noted that many
traditional interpreters, both ancient and modern, read their texts canonically.
Such canonical readings, based on the assumption that both Johannine lit-
erature and Pauline literature, including Hebrews, are part of one deposit of
divine revelation, conflate perspectives that post-Enlightenment critics tend
to keep distinct. Whether they should be separated is another matter. It is not
necessary to decide whether there was in fact any influence, one way or the
other, between John and Hebrews, although some interpreters have thought
that there might have been.3 As the case of John 17 indicates, it is possible that
various strands of early Christian literature were in critical dialogue, and if so,
the evidence of “canonical” readers might alert us to important tensions within
our texts.
* The essay was originally presented at the Hebrews Group of the Society of Biblical Literature
Annual Meeting in Baltimore, Md., November 26, 2013.
1 See Jon C. Laansma and Daniel J. Treier, eds., Christology, Hermeneutics, and Hebrews: Profiles
from the History of Interpretation (New York: T&T Clark International, 2012).
2 See Harold W. Attridge, “How Priestly is the ‘High Priestly Prayer’ of John 17,” CBQ 75
(2013): 1–15.
3 See Ceslas Spicq, “L’origine johannique de la conception du Christ Prêtre dan L’Epître
aux Hébreux,” in Aux sources de la tradition chrétienne (Mélanges M. Goguel) (Neuchâtel:
Delachaux & Niestlé, 1950), 258–69. See also Spicq, L’Épître aux Hebreux (Études bibliques;
Paris: Gabalda, 1952–53), 1:109–38.

284 Attridge
Origen
This exploration begins with one of those canonical readers, Origen, who
in his Commentary on John provides an early example of Hebrews making a
contribution to the reading of the Fourth Gospel. Origen began work on the
Commentary before leaving Alexandria, prior to 232, and the major passages
to be explored here come from that period. Origen’s commentary reports on
and occasionally takes issue with the commentary on John by the Valentinian
scholar Heracleon. Pursuing the debate between these two early exegetes is a
rewarding enterprise,4 but they do not seem to have any disagreements about
Hebrews.5
Origen signals his interest in a canonical interweaving of John and Hebrews
near the beginning of the commentary (Comm. 1.2), in remarks addressed to
his patron Ambrose. He refers to Christ as High Priest in Comm 1:2 (11), relying
on Heb 4:14 and Heb 7:11, part of the Melchizedek typology. That reference fore-
shadows a more complex treatment as Origen comments on the Christological
claims involved in the first chapter of John.
Such great things, then, He is, the Paraclete, the atonement, the propitia-
tion, the sympathizer with our weaknesses, who was tempted in all human
things (Heb 4:15), as we are, without sin (Heb 4:15); and in consequence
He is a great High-Priest (Heb 4:14), having offered Himself as the sacrifice
which is offered once for all (Heb 7:27; 9:28; 10:10), and not for men only but
for every rational creature. (Origen, Comm. 1.35 [255–56])6
4 See my earlier essay “Heracleon and John: Reassessment of an Early Christian Hermeneutical
Debate,” in Biblical Interpretation, History, Context, and Reality (ed. Christine Helmer; Leiden:
Brill, 2005), 57–72, and also my “Valentinian Reading of John,” in Proceedings of a Conference
on Valentinianism at the Norwegian Institute, Rome, October, 2013 (forthcoming).
5 On Heracleon, see Ansgar Wucherpfennig, Heracleon Philologus: Gnostische Johannesexegese
im zweiten Jahrhundert (WUNT 142; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), and Einar Thomassen,
“Heracleon,” in The Legacy of John: Second-Century Reception of the Fourth Gospel (ed. Tuomas
Rasimus; NovTSup 132; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 173–210.
6 Unless otherwise indicated, translations of patristic texts are from Philip Schaff, ed.,
A Select Library of the Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church (=NPNF1), 14 vols.
(New York: Christian Literature Publishing, 1989; repr. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1995).
For the Greek text of Origen’s commentary, see Hans Georg Thümmel, ed. and trans., Origenes’
Johanneskommentar Buch I–V (STAC 63; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 94–96: Οὗτος δῆ
ὁ τοσαῦτα τυγχάνων, ὁ παράκλητος, ὁ ἱλασμός, τὸ ἱλαστήριον, ⟨συμπαθήσας ταῖς ἀσθενείαις
ἡμῶν⟩ τῷ πεπειρᾶσθαι κατὰ πάντα τὰ ἀνθρώπινα ⟨καθ᾽ ὁμοιότητα χωρὶς ἁμαρτίας⟩, μέγας ἐστὶν
ἀρχιερεύς, οὐχ ὑπὲρ ἀνθώπων μόνων ἀλλὰ καὶ παντὸς λογικοῦ τῆν ἅπαξ θυσίαν προσενεχθεῖσαν
Jesus The Incarnate High Priest 285
The passage on which Origen focuses, John 1:23–51, involves a series of titles
for Jesus, “lamb of God” (v. 29); “the one who baptizes with holy spirit” (v. 33);
“rabbi,” conveniently translated as “teacher” (vv. 38; 49); Messiah, translated as
“Christ” (v. 41); the “one of whom Moses and the prophets spoke” (v. 45); “Son of
Man” (v. 51). None hint at the priestly Christology that Origen finds here.
In support of his ultimate point about the true humanity of Jesus, Origen,
after alluding to the Johannine comments on the Paraclete (John 14:16–17,
25–26; 16:7–11), evokes a key text from Hebrews. Christ is a “sympathizer with
our weaknesses,” “tempted in all things,” but “without sin” (Heb 4:15). Then
comes the affirmation that Christ is a “Great High Priest,” in the title introduc-
ing Jesus at the beginning of the pericope in Hebrews (4:14: ἀρχιερέα μέγαν).
The title High Priest comes from nowhere into the list of Johannine designa-
tions for Jesus, but perhaps there is a peg on which to hang it: the title “lamb of
God” (John 1:36), the Johannine hint that Christ’s death should be understood
in sacrificial terms. What those terms are remains a mystery at this point in
the Fourth Gospel. The allusion to Exod 12:36 at John 19:36 will clarify that the
“lamb” is a paschal lamb, although how the sacrifice of that victim “takes away
sins” is not transparent, even in that context.
The play on the issue of the sacrificial character of Jesus’s death is part of
the Gospel’s “riddling” technique.7 However the evangelist deals with the rid-
dle, Origen takes up the issue later in his Commentary, at 6.51–52 (264–272),
and hints that Hebrews may help. He claims that the “sacrifice must be appre-
hended with reference to certain heavenly mysteries,” citing the words of “the
Apostle” (i.e., Paul, understood to be the author of Hebrews), “who somewhere
says ‘Who serve a pattern and shadow of heavenly things,’ and again, ‘It was
necessary that the patterns of the things in the heavens should be purified with
these, but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these.’ ”
Origen does not explain what the mystery is, but he alludes (Comm. 6.51 [266])
to a verse of Heb 5:14, to laud one “who has his senses exercised to discern good
and evil.” Such a person might be able to explain the mystery.
ἑαυτὸν ἀνενεγκών. ⟨χωρὶς γὰρ θεοῦ ὑπὲρ παντὸς ἐγεύσατο θανάτου⟩, ἢ ὅπερ ἔν τισι κεῖται τῆς πρὸς
Ἑβραίους ἄντιγράφαοις ⟨χάριτι θεοῦ⟩. Εἴτε δὲ ⟨χωφὶς θεοῦ ὑπὲρ παντὸς ἐγεύσατο θανάτου⟩ οὐ μόνον
ὑπὲρ ἀνθτώπων ἀπέθανεν, ἀλλ`καὶ ὑπὲρ τῶν λοιπῶν λογικῶν, εἴτε ⟨χάριτι θεοῦ ἐγεύσατο τοῦ ὑπὲρ
παντὸς θανάτου⟩, ὑπὲρ πάντων χωρὶς θεοῦ ἀπέθανε, χάριτι θεοῦ ἐγεύσατο τοῦ ὑπὲρ παντὸς θανάτου.
7 For exploration of that technique, see Harold W. Attridge, “Divine Sovereignty and Human
Responsibility in the Fourth Gospel,” in Revealed Wisdom: Studies in Apocalyptic in Honour of
Christopher Rowland (ed. John Ashton; AJEC 88; Leiden: Brill, 2014), 183–99.
286 Attridge
Origen next offers a symbolic reading of what sacrifice means. He conflates

the Paschal sacrifice with the tamid offering (Exod 29:38–44, cited at Comm.
6.52 [268–269]) and then finds a spiritual meaning in the sacrificial act:
But what other perpetual sacrifice can be intelligible to the man of rea-
son, but the Word growing to maturity, the Word who is symbolically
called a “lamb” and who is offered as soon as the soul receives illumi-
nation. This would be the perpetual sacrifice of the morning, and it is
offered again when the sojourn of the mind with divine things comes to
an end. (Origen, Comm. 6.52 [279])8
Hebrews does not play an explicit role in this interpretive move, which takes
sacrifice to be symbolic of the illumination of the mind, imaged by the morn-
ing and evening daily offerings. The interpretation of Christ’s sacrifice will con-
cern other patristic commentators, and the resources of Hebrews will help at
least one, Chrysostom, to address the question, as will be shown below.
To return to the passage from Comm. 1.35, Origen does not cease his reflec-
tion on the significance of Jesus with his reference to the title Great High Priest,
clearly derived from Hebrews, whatever its sacrificial connotations. He goes on
interpreting the Fourth Gospel, utilizing Heb 2:9:
For “without God” He tasted death for every one. In some copies of the
Epistle to the Hebrews the words are “by the grace of God.” Now, whether
He tasted death for every one “without God,” He died not for men only
but for all other intellectual beings too, or whether He tasted death for
every one “by the grace of God,” He died for all “without God,” for “by the
grace of God” He tasted death for every one. It would surely be absurd
to say that He tasted death for human sins and not for any other being
besides man which had fallen into sin, as for example for the stars. For
not even the stars are clean in the eyes of God, as we read in Job (Job
25:5). The stars are not clean in His sight, unless this is to be regarded as
a hyperbole. Hence he is a great High-Priest, since He restores all things
8 Translation NPNF1, modified; text: Cécile Blanc, Origene, Commentaire sur saint Jean Tome
II (Livres VI et X) (SC 157; Paris Éditions du Cerf, 1970), 330–37, here p. 334: ποία δὲ ἑτέρα
θύσια δύναται ἐνδελεχισμοῦ εἶναι τῷ λογικῷ νοητὴ ἢ λόγος ἀκμάζων, λόγος ⟨ἀμνὸς⟩ συμβολικῶς
καλούμενος ἅμα τῷ φωτίζεσθαι τὴν ψυχὴν καταπεμπόμενος. αὕτη γὰρ ἂν εἴη ἡ ἑωθινὴ τοῦ
ἐνδελεχισμοῦ θυσία καὶ πἀλιν ἐπὶ τέλει τῆς τοῦ νοῦ ἐν τοῖς θειοτέροις διατριβῆς ἀναφερόμενος. Οὐ
γὰρ ἀεὶ δύναται διαρκεῖν τὸ εἶναι ἐν τοῖς κρείττοσιν, ὅσον κεκλήρωται ἡ ψυχὴ συνεζεῦχθαι τῷ γηίνῳ
καὶ βαροῦντι σώματι.
to His Father’s kingdom, and arranges that whatever defects exist in each
part of creation shall be filled up so as to be full of the glory of the Father.
(Origen, Comm. 1.35)
The general point that Origen is most concerned to make here is that in his
“once-for-all” (Heb 9:27–28; 10:10, 14) sacrifice, Christ died for all rational crea-
tures, that is, not only for human beings, but for the “intellectual (λογικά)
beings” that constitute the angelic world and the souls that inhabit the stars.
The scope of the effects of Christ’s death is thus truly universal, a tribute to the
generous salvific will that is essential to Origen’s understanding of God.
A slight bump in the exegetical road is presented by Heb 2:9 and the variant
readings in that verse that Origen, as a good biblical scholar, has noted. Some
manuscripts, and other patristic witnesses,9 read that Jesus tasted death “apart
from” God (χωρὶς Θεοῦ), a reading favored by a few modern critics;10 most other
witnesses read, “by the grace of God” (χάριτι Θεοῦ), the better attested variant
favored by the majority of modern editions. Origen likes both readings, accepts
both as possible, and incorporates both into his comment on Jesus as High
Priest. He finds the reading “apart from God” useful, not as a way of referring
to a kenotic Christology, but as a way of defining the scope of the effects of
Christ’s sacrifice. Everything that is outside of God is subject to Christ’s recon-
ciling and atoning death. Origen’s reflection is close to that of modern inter-
preters who find in χωρὶς Θεοῦ a marginal gloss later incorporated into the text.
The gloss was inspired perhaps by 1 Cor 15:27, excluding only “God” from the
“all” for whom Christ died.11
Origen concludes this section of his commentary with an unrelated reflec-
tion on Christ’s titles, introducing Rom 2:29 and the notion of those who are
“Jews secretly,” who can take their name not from Judah, son of Jacob, but from
Christ, who has set them free.
The material from the first book of Origen’s Commentary is probably the
most interesting example of high priestly Christology interwoven with
the Fourth Gospel, but it is by no means unique. Origen will also draw on
9 NA28 lists 0243. 1739* vgms; Ormss Amb Hiermss Fulg.

10 Defenders of the originality of χωρὶς θεοῦ are Hugh Montefiore (A Commentary on the
Epistle to the Hebrews [New York: Harper and Row, 1964], 59) and Herbert Braun (An die
Hebräer [HNT 14; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1984], 56–57).
11 See Otto Michel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (KEK 13; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1955), 139–40, cited in Gareth Lee Cockerill, The Epistle to the Hebrews (NICNT; Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 135 n. 47.
288 Attridge
Hebrews for occasional assistance elsewhere, on particular points.12 However

one assesses Origen’s exegetical technique, it is clear that he is reading John
and Hebrews together, and, in this case at least, seems to be reading John
through the lens of Hebrews, introducing several notions from the Epistle that
expansively define the Johannine understanding of the salvific work of Jesus.
The process first clearly in evidence in Origen continues through the patris-
tic period. One of the best examples of the mutual interpretation of the two
texts is found in John Chrysostom, who produced homilies both on John and
on Hebrews, providing a rich database for exploring their mutual interaction.
Chrysostom
Both John and Hebrews appear interactively in both sets of Chrysostom’s

homilies, but this essay will concentrate on the Homilies on Hebrews. In the
Homilies on John, Hebrews, alongside other Pauline texts, is used largely to
reinforce certain doctrinal readings, usually with a polemical thrust. So, for
example, Chrysostom criticizes stock examples of low Christology, such as
Paul of Samosata, not simply by the Fourth Gospel’s affirmations about the
identity of Father and Son, but by passages from Hebrews such as Heb 1:3
(Hom. Jo. 3.4; 4:2) and Heb 7:3:
Moreover, if He be not Co-eternal with the Father, how can you say that
His Life is infinite? For if it have a beginning from before, although it be
endless, yet it is not infinite; for the infinite must be infinite in both direc-
tions. As Paul also declared, when he said, “Having neither beginning of
days, nor end of life” (Heb. 7:3); by this expression showing that He is
both without beginning and without end. For as the one has no limit, so
neither has the other. In one direction there is no end, in the other no
beginning. (Chrysostom, Hom. Jo. 4:2)
Or again, Sabellians, who make no distinction between Father and Son, are
refuted by the proper understanding of two clauses in Heb 1:3 in Hom. Jo. 7.[2]:
that Christ is an ἀπαύγασμα (“effulgence”) is evidence of his identity with
the Father; that “there is no interval between Father and Son,” but that he is
12 Examples of other points scored: Heb 1:2, cited at Comm. 2.10 (72), in connection with
John 1:3; Heb 2:11, cited at Comm. 1:34 (249), to support the notion that the Father is the
source of our sanctification; Heb 4:12, cited at Comm. 1.32 (229), on the image of the Logos
as a sword.
the χαρακτήρ τῆς ὑποστάσεως αὐτοῦ (“express image of his person”) indicates
that “he is not deprived of his own person.” To suppose otherwise, that is, that
the Father and Son are to be simply identified, on the basis of the affirmation
that Christ is an ἀπαύγασμα, is, Chrysostom says, “impious, and belongs to the
madness of the Sabellians, and of Marcellus’ followers.” 13
Exegetical issues may be resolved by appeal to Hebrews. Thus the phrase
“grace upon (or “instead of,” ἀντί) grace” of John 1:16 is given more concrete
meaning by appeal to Jer 31:31–34:
“grace on grace” There was a covenant, and there is a covenant. (“I will
make with you a new covenant, not according to the covenant which I
made with your fathers.”) (Jer 31:31). (Chrysostom, Hom. Jo. 17:1)
Chrysostom’s formulation, appealing to Jeremiah’s promise of a new cove-

nant at the heart of Hebrews 8–10, resolves any doubt for his readers that the
Johannine preposition ἀντί might be read as an expression of continuity, yield-
ing “grace upon grace.” The “grace” that now obtains is the grace of the new
covenant, which is quite distinct from the first covenant.
We turn to Chrysostom’s Homilies on Hebrews where he reflects on the
High Priesthood of Jesus. Like Origen, Chrysostom is happy to import into
the Fourth Gospel, and particularly into the final prayer of Jesus in John 17,
a priestly Christology. He does so, not in his homilies on the Fourth Gospel, but
in Hom. Heb. 17 (NPNF1 14:447), a text that addresses the problem with which
13 The whole context is of interest for its use of Heb 1:3: “For He is an Effulgence: but an efful-
gence is included in the idea of the nature whose effulgence it is. For this reason Paul has
called Him so (Heb 1:3), that you may imagine no interval between the Father and the Son.
This expression therefore is declaratory of the point; but the following part of the proof
quoted corrects an erroneous opinion that might beset simple men. For, says the Apostle,
do not, because you have heard that he is an Effulgence, suppose that He is deprived of
His proper person; this is impious, and belongs to the madness of the Sabellians, and
of Marcellus’ followers. We say not so, but that He is also in His proper Person. And for
this reason, after having called Him ‘Effulgence,’ Paul has added that He is ‘the express
image of His Person’ (Heb 1:3), in order to make evident His proper Personality, and that
He belongs to the same Essence of which He is also the express image. For, as I before said,
it is not sufficient by a single expression to set before men the doctrines concerning God,
but it is desirable that we bring many together, and choose from each what is suitable.
So shall we be able to attain to a worthy telling of His glory, worthy, I mean, as regards
our power; for if any should deem himself able to speak words suitable to His essential
worthiness, and be ambitious to do so, saying, that he knows God as God knows Himself,
he it is who is most ignorant of God.” Chrysostom, Hom. Jo. 7:2.
290 Attridge
Origen wrestled briefly in his Comm. 6.32, that is, how Christ’s sacrificial death
produces its salvific effects. Chrysostom provides an answer that leans heavily
on the logic of Hebrews but does so in the framework of the prayer of Jesus in
John 17. Chrysostom is commenting on Heb 9:28:
“So Christ was once offered.” By whom offered? Evidently by Himself.

Here he says that He is not Priest only, but Victim also, and what is sacri-
ficed. On this account are [the words] “was offered.” “Was once offered”
(he says) “to bear the sins of man.” Why “of man,” and not “of all”? Because
not all believed. For He died indeed for all, that is His part: for that death
was a counterbalance against the destruction of all men. But He did not
bear the sins of all men, because they were not willing. (Chrysostom,
Hom. Heb. 17:4)
So far, so good, and, so far, at least in terms of the identification of Christ’s

roles in the sacrificial act, unproblematic. There is nothing unexpected in not-
ing that Jesus in Hebrews is both priest and victim, although some might find
Chrysostom’s limitation of the scope of Christ’s soteriological reach to be prob-
lematic. What comes next is of interest for Chrysostom’s understanding of how
this sacrifice works:
And what is [the meaning of] “He bare the sins”? Just as in the Oblation we
bear up our sins and say, “Whether we have sinned voluntarily or involun-
tarily, do Thou Forgive,” that is, we make mention of them first, and then
ask for their forgiveness. So also was it done here. Where has Christ done
this? Hear Himself saying, “And for their sakes I sanctify myself” (John
17:19). Lo! He bore the sins. He took them from men, and bore them to the
Father; not that He might determine anything against them [mankind],
but that He might forgive them. (Chrysostom, Hom. Heb. 17:4)
Chrysostom is right to find in the phrasing of John 17 a gesture toward priest-

hood, though he misses the corrective in the evangelist’s tone. He makes a par-
ticularly important move as he construes the priestly function that he finds in
both Hebrews and John. Explaining the priestly function is the main point of
his comment, which focuses on Heb 9:28, a text to which Origen had alluded,
interpreting it as a formation of the mind of the sacrificer. In Chrysostom’s
reading, Christ’s sacrifice is not construed in quite the allegorical way sug-
gested by Origen. Chrysostom finds here a Christological focus, but that focus
is not on Christ’s death as an act of expiation or of substitionary atonement,
on the blood of the Lamb shed instead of the blood of sinners. Chrysostom
understands Christ’s death as part of the process of perfecting “sanctification”
envisioned by Hebrews (10:10, 14), and that process in turn is connected with
Hebrews’ understanding of Christ’s exaltation as his passage into the heavenly
sanctuary. Chrysostom, apparently inspired by the image of Christ at prayer
in John 17, adds the notion that it is precisely in his prayer that Christ bore
the sins of humankind to the Father. In effect he envisions Christ praying as
he presents the sins of “man” to the Father in the heavenly tabernacle, to use
the imagery of Hebrews. Christ did so, Chrysostom says, not so that the Father
might render judgment on those sins, but so that the Father might simply for-
give them.
Chrysostom’s formulation neatly combines important affirmations of both
the Fourth Gospel and Hebrews. That Jesus did not come to judge humanity is
an important theme of the Gospel (John 2:17; 5:22: 8:15, 12:47), held in tension
with the affirmation that judgment happens when people decide for or against
Jesus, something Chrysostom is not interested in at this point but that is com-
patible with his point that not “all” believe. From Hebrews comes the notion
that the whole purpose of the sacrificial act of Jesus is to institute the covenant
relationship within which God will remember sins no more. That is the major
point of the citation of the prophecy of Jer 31:31–34 in Heb 8:7–12, partially
repeated in 10:16–17. The “sanctification” to which Jesus refers in John 17:19,
is, therefore, according to Chrysostom, the forgiveness of sins produced by
Christ’s action as a mediator with God. The comment is an appropriate expli-
cation of what is going on in chs. 9 and 10 of Hebrews. It may well be triggered
by the reference in Heb 10:10, 14 to the process of “sanctification” that follows
the “perfecting” of Christ’s followers. Moreover, the basic image of Christ medi-
ating with the Father is inspired by the description in Heb 7:25 of Christ in that
role, an image reinforced by the depiction in John 17 of Christ at prayer.
The suggested conceit that Christ’s prayer in John 17 is offered as Christ pres-
ents himself to the Father in heaven might also reflect Chrysostom’s sensitivity
to the way in which the temporal perspectives of the Farewell Discourses of
John 14–17 play with temporal categories, with Jesus sometimes speaking as
if he had already been “glorified” and his mission was already accomplished.14
The interconnection of John and Hebrews enables Chrysostom to offer an
explanation of Christ’s sacrificial action. A second important feature of his
canonical reading is to reinforce allusions to an incarnational theology in
Hebrews. One way that he does so is through the use of the motif “coming
from” and “returning to” the Father from the Fourth Gospel, for which he finds
significant points of contact in Hebrews:
14 For exploration of the well-known temporal ambiguities of this portion of the Fourth
Gospel, see Harold W. Attridge, “Temple, Tabernacle, Time, and Space in John and
Hebrews,” Early Christianity 1 (2010): 261–74.
292 Attridge
[1.] Our Lord Jesus Christ calls His coming in the flesh an exodus [or going
out]: as when He says, “The sower went out to sow” (Matt 13:3). And again,
“I went out from the Father, and am come” (John 16:28). And in many
places one may see this. But Paul calls it an eisodos [or coming in], saying,
“And when again He brings in the First-Begotten into the world,” meaning
by this Bringing in, His taking on Him flesh.
Now why has he so used the expression? The things signified [thereby]
are manifest, and in what respect it is [thus] said. For Christ indeed calls
it a Going out, justly; for we were out from God. For as in royal palaces,
prisoners and those who have offended the king stand without, and he
who desires to reconcile them does not bring them in, but himself going
out discourses with them, until having made them meet for the king’s
presence, he may bring them in, so also Christ has done. Having gone out
to us, that is, having taken flesh, and having discoursed to us of the King’s
matters, so He brought us in, having purged the sins, and made reconcili-
ation. Therefore he calls it a Going out.
But Paul names it a Coming in (εἴσοδος), from the metaphor of those
who come to an inheritance and receive any portion or possession. For
the saying, “and when again He brings in the First-Begotten into the
world” (Heb 1:6) means this, “when he puts the world into His hand.” For
when He was made known, then also He obtained possession of the
whole thereof, He does not say these things concerning God The Word,
but concerning that which is according to the flesh. For if according to
John, “He was in the world, and the world was made by Him” (John 1:10):
how is He “brought in,” otherwise than in the flesh? (Chrysostom, Hom.
Heb. 3, on Heb 1:6–8.)
If Hebrews contributes “priesthood” to the Johannine mix, John at the same

time provides an emphasis on incarnational theology for Hebrews, but is
introducing the idea of incarnation a reasonable interpretive move for read-
ing Hebrews? The role played by notions of incarnation in Hebrews has been
much debated. The text clearly focuses on the exaltation of Christ to the right
hand of the Father, through its frequent use of and allusions to Psalm 110.
Yet Hebrews does indeed presuppose an incarnational framework, not only
in the initial scriptural catena, which refers to the “introduction of the Son into
the World,” but also, and most decisively, in the quotation of Ps 40:7–9 in Heb
10:5–7, which expresses the intent of Christ’s act “in a body.”15 Embodiment
is an explicit motif of the psalm, “a body you have prepared for me” (σῶμα δὲ
15 See Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia;
κατηρτίσω μοι), which is distinctive of the Septuagint translation. Incarnation

also is emphasized in the introduction to the quotation (Heb 10:5), which
defines the circumstances of Christ’s speaking as “when he comes into the
world” (είσερχόμενος εἰς τὸν κόσμον). The importance of the embodied act of
Christ is also solemnly highlighted in the phrase that concludes the paragraph
(Heb 10:10) and summarizes the point of the citation: “Through that will we
have been sanctified through the once for all offering of the body of Jesus
Christ” (τοῦ σώματος Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ). That act of conformity to the divine will
“in the body” is what lays down for Christ’s followers a “new and living way”
(Heb 10:19) of fidelity that they are called to follow, a way defined as “through
his flesh.”
Chrysostom’s reading of Hebrews at this point, early in his sequence of
homilies (I.3), makes a number of interesting moves. He begins with an
explicit allusion to the “movement” motif in the Fourth Gospel, citing John
16:28, “I have come out (ἐξῆλθον) from the Father and have come into the world.
I am leaving the world (ἀφίημι τὸν κόσμον) and going to the Father.” Chrysostom
immediately connects that verse with Heb 1:6, “When, again, he introduces the
firstborn into the world.” But Chrysostom is also obviously thinking of the con-
nection within Hebrews between the catena of ch. 1 and the climactic por-
trayal of Christ’s submission to the Father’s will in ch. 10. Chrysostom derives
the terminology for Christ’s “movement” from Heb 10:19, where the “new and
living way” is explicitly described as an “entrance” (εἴσοδος). Chrysostom him-
self supplies the parallel “exit” (ἔξοδος), though he may have Luke 9:31 in mind.
More importantly, by using the language of Heb 10:19, embellished with the lit-
tle comparison to those who “come into” an inheritance, he neatly ties together
another important motif of Hebrews, that of the inheritance that Christ left
in his διαθήκη (“covenant” or “testament,” 9:16–17), and the example that he
set by charting the “new and living way.” In short, Christ’s way into the world,
conforming himself to the will of the Father, is the example that his followers
inherit as they pursue their way “into the sanctuary.”
While the reading of Hebrews in conjunction with the incarnational empha-
sis of the Fourth Gospel does highlight what is clearly an important dimension
of Hebrews itself, the intracanonical reading is not always so productive. Also,
reading texts canonically can send conflicting signals. Such inconsistency is
apparent in Chrysostom’s reading of the prayer of Jesus in Heb 5, which appears
to be another strong signal by the homilist about the humanity of Jesus, whose
eulabeia, or “piety,” in the face of suffering is a model for all his followers.16
16 On the passage see Harold W. Attridge, “Heard Because of His Reverence, Heb. 5:7,” JBL 98
(1979): 90–93, repr. in Essays on John and Hebrews (WUNT 264; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
2010), 268–72.
294 Attridge
Chrysostom sees it otherwise. Chrysostom’s treatment of Heb 5:1–3, invokes

the Fourth Gospel to make the point that Jesus did not need to pray:
Here again he conciliates them in another point, because He was sent

from God: which Christ was wont to say through to the Jews. “He
that sent Me is greater than I,” and “I came not of Myself” (John 12:49;
14:28; 8:42).
He appears to me in these words also to hint at the priests of the Jews,
as being no longer priests, [but] intruders and corrupters of the law of the
priesthood (Heb 5:5), “So Christ also glorified Himself to be made an High
Priest.” . . .
Tell me now, did He pray the Father that He might be saved from
death? And was it for this cause that He was “exceeding sorrowful, and
said, If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me” (Matt 26:38, 39)? Yet He
nowhere prayed the Father concerning His resurrection, but on the con-
trary He openly declares, “Destroy this temple and within three days I will
raise it up” (John 2:19), and “I have power to lay down My life, and I have
power to take it again. No man taketh it from Me, I lay it down of Myself”
(John 10:18). . . . How then did He pray concerning this? But for whom did
He pray? For those who believed on Him.
And what he means is this, “he is readily listened to.” For since they had
not yet the right opinion concerning Him, he said that He was heard. Just
as He Himself also when consoling His disciples said, “If ye loved Me, ye
would rejoice, because I go to My Father” (John 14:28) and “My Father is
greater than I.” (Chrysostom, Hom. Heb. 8:1–3; NPNF1 14:403–408)
This is obviously one case where the canonical intertext distorts the Epistle’s
meaning. Hebrews does not deny Christ’s need for prayer. Instead, for Hebrews,
the prayer of Jesus is one more example of his solidarity with his brethren, like
them in all but sin.
Such are the intercanonical readings that characterize Chrysostom and
many other patristic readers. At times such an approach seems to extend ele-
ments of the original texts (priesthood), at times it seems to distort (need for
prayer). At times, serendipitously perhaps, it reinforces or enables an inter-
pretation of a difficult text that was compatible with contemporary critical
readings. In treating Heb 9:15–18, Chrysostom wrestles with the imagery of
Hebrews’ depiction of Christ’s passage through the heavens into the supernal
sanctuary in order to cleanse the “heavenly” things that are there. This passage,
which plays on Platonic language about ideal realities, is best understood, like
Philo’s Platonic language, as a metaphor for the world of the human mind and
the heart that is the basic concern of the homilist.17 Chrysostom’s analysis calls
on the Fourth Gospel to make a similar point:
And what does he mean now by “the things in the heavens”? Is it Heaven?
Or is it the Angels? None of these, but what is ours. It follows then that
our things are in Heaven, and heavenly things are ours, even though they
be accomplished on earth. . . .
If then we are heavenly, and have obtained such a sacrifice, let us fear.
Let us no longer continue on the earth; for even now it is possible for him
that wishes it, not to be on the earth. For to be and not to be on the earth
is the effect of moral disposition and choice. For instance, God is said to
be in Heaven. Wherefore? Not because He is confined by space, far from
it, nor as having left the earth destitute of His presence, but by His rela-
tion to and intimacy with the Angels. If then we also are near to God, we
are in Heaven. For what care I about Heaven when I see the Lord of
Heaven, when I myself am become a Heaven? “For,” He says, “We will
come,” I and the Father, “and will make our abode with him.” (John 14:23)
(Chrysostom, Hom. Heb. 16:6–7; NPNF1 14:445)
The citation of John 14:23 is particularly apt since this verse culminates the
fourth evangelist’s reinterpretation of the apocalyptic imagery of heavenly
abodes or “mansions”18 in terms of a spiritual indwelling or contemporary
mutual “abiding” of Father, Son, and Believer. The Gospel of John as a whole
is involved in a redefinition of apocalyptic / eschatological categories in terms
of present realities, while not eliminating the eschatological categories and
expectations themselves.19 The tensions in the text are best understood not as
evidence of redactional activity, but rather as the attempt of an astute theolo-
gian to grapple with and dramatically present the complexity of a hope that
believers could share in an era when expectations of a literal second coming
had faded. John Chrysostom, an insightful reader of scripture, continues on the
17 Attridge, Hebrews, 260–66.

18 For an example of heavenly abodes see 4 Ezra 7:51.
19 On the Gospel’s eschatology, see, most comprehensively, Jörg Frey, Die johanneische
Eschatologie, vol. 1: Ihre Probleme im Spiegel der Forschung seit Reimarus; vol. 2: Das johan-
neische Zeitverständnis; vol. 3: Die eschatologische Verkündigung in den johanneischen
Texten (WUNT 96, 110, 117; Tübingen: Mohr-Siebeck, 1997, 1998, 2000) and on the evan-
gelist’s hermeneutical strategy, see Harold W. Attridge, “From Discord Rises Meaning:
Resurrection Motifs in the Fourth Gospel,” in The Resurrection of Jesus in the Gospel of
John (ed. Craig R. Koester and Reimund Bieringer; WUNT 2.222; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
2008): 1–19, repr. in Attridge, Essays, 160–76.
296 Attridge
path blazed by the evangelist. Origen had a similar instinct, but Chrysostom
pursues it more clearly.
These examples of Chrysostom’s intertextual readings show the continual
interplay between John and Hebrews, which is not confined to reflection on
the meaning of Christ’s incarnation and sacrifice.
Conclusion
To summarize, patristic intertextuality, or canonical reading, is a two-edged

sword. In some contexts, the reading distorts or is marginal to the rhetorical
thrust of the letter as best as we can determine it. At other points, the intra-
canonical intertexuality enables a careful reader such as Chrysostom to focus
on elements that are indeed a part of the conceptual structure of Hebrews, a
theological emphasis that in our quest to find the distinctive voice of Hebrews
we run the risk of suppressing.
Bibliography
Ancient Sources
John Chrysostom. Commentary on the Gospel of Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist,
Vol. 1: Homilies 1–47. The Fathers of the Church: A New Translation (Patristic
Series) 33. Vol. 2: Homilies 48–88. Fathers of the Church: A New Translation
(Patristic Series) 41. Translated by Thomas Aquinas Goggin. Washington, D.C.:
Catholic University of America Press, 1957–59.
———. Homilies on the Gospel according to Saint John and the Epistle to the Hebrews.
Vol. 14 of A Select Library of the Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers of the Christian
Church (=NPNF1). Edited by Philip Schaff. New York: Christian Literature Publishing,
1989. Repr., Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1995.
Origen. Commentaire sur saint Jean Tome II (Livres VI et X). Edited and translated by
Cécile Blanc. Sources chrétiennes 157. Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1970.
———. Johanneskommentar Buch I–V. Edited and translated by Hans Georg Thümmel.
Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum 63. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011.
Braun, Herbert. An die Hebräer. Handbuch zum Neuen Testament 14. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1984.
Michel, Otto. Der Brief an die Hebräer. Kritisch-exegetische Kommentar über das Neue
Testament 13. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1955.
Montefiore, Hugh. A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. Harper New Testament
Commentaries. New York: Harper & Row, 1964.
Spicq, Ceslas, L’Épître aux Hebreux. 2 vols. Études bibliques. Paris: Gabalda, 1952–53.
Other Literature
Attridge, Harold W. “Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility in the Fourth Gos-
pel.” Pages 183–99 in Revealed Wisdom: Studies in Apocalyptic in Honour of Christo-
pher Rowland. Edited by John Ashton. Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 88.
Leiden: Brill, 2014.
———. “From Discord Rises Meaning: Resurrection Motifs in the Fourth Gospel.”
Pages 1–10 in The Resurrection of Jesus in the Gospel of John. Edited by Craig R.
Koester and Reimund Bieringer. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen
Testament 2.222. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008. Repr. as pages 160–76 in Harold W.
Attridge, Essays on John and Hebrews. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum
Neuen Testament 264. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010.
———. “Heard Because of His Reverence, Heb. 5:7.” Journal of Biblical Literature 98
(1979): 90–93. Repr. as pages 268–72 in Harold W. Attridge, Essays on John and
Hebrews. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 264. Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2010.
———. “Heracleon and John: Reassessment of an Early Christian Hermeneutical
Debate.” Pages 57–72 in Biblical Interpretation, History, Context, and Reality. Edited
by Christine Helmer. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
———. “How Priestly is the ‘High Priestly Prayer’ of John 17?” Catholic Biblical Quarterly
75 (2013): 1–15.
———. “Temple, Tabernacle, Time, and Space in John and Hebrews.” Early Christianity
1 (2010): 261–74.
———. “Valentinian Reading of John.” In Proceedings of a Conference on Valentinianism
at the Norwegian Institute, Rome, October 2013, forthcoming.
Frey, Jörg. Die johanneische Eschatologie. 3 vols. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen
zum Neuen Testament 96, 110, 117. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997, 1998, 2000.
Laansma, Jon C., and Daniel J. Treier, eds. Christology, Hermeneutics, and Hebrews:
Profiles from the History of Interpretation. New York: T&T Clark International,
2012.
Spicq, Ceslas. “L’origine johannique de la conception du Christ Prêtre dans L’Epître aux
Hébreux.” Pages 258–69 in Aux sources de la tradition chrétienne (Mélanges M.
Goguel). Neuchâtel: Delachaux & Niestlé, 1950.
298 Attridge
Thomassen, Einar. “Heracleon,” Pages 173–210 in The Legacy of John: Second-Century

Reception of the Fourth Gospel. Edited by Tuomas Rasimus. Novum Testamentum
Supplements 132. Leiden: Brill, 2010.
Wucherpfennig, Ansgar. Heracleon Philologus: Gnostische Johannesexegese im zweiten
Jahrhundert. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 142.
“In Many and Various Ways”: Theological
Interpretation of Hebrews in the Modern Period
Craig R. Koester
Introduction
Theological interpretation involves asking what a biblical text says about

God, human beings, and the world in which human beings live. As interpret-
ers explore such theological questions, many help readers to see the Bible’s
value for modern readers, since they take up perennial issues of faith and life.
Historical criticism presses in the opposite direction. Ulrich Luz has noted that
one of historical criticism’s primary tasks is to “distance the text from the inter-
preter and make it alien by putting it back into its own period.”1 In the case of
Hebrews, that effort has perhaps been all too successful. Hebrews’ discussion
of the Aaronic priesthood, Melchizedek, and blood sacrifice has been found
to be quite alien to the concerns of modern readers, at least those in the West.
Given that profound sense of distance, why should people continue reading
Hebrews at all? For readers asking that question, historical criticism may seem
to offer little help.
But Luz also observed that historical criticism has a second function, which
is to “make the interpreters aware of their own preunderstanding.” The sense
of historical distance should “teach them something about themselves,” calling
attention to the worldview that they bring to their encounter with the text.2
In this role of promoting self-understanding, historical criticism has been less
successful. Luz proposes that here is where the history of a biblical text’s recep-
tion or influence (Wirkungsgeschichte) comes in. By considering how interpret-
ers in the past engaged the text, contemporary interpreters become aware of
ways in which their own assumptions differ from those of their predecessors.
The process calls interpreters to consider who they are and who they might
become through their engagement with the text.3
1 Ulrich Luz, Matthew 1–7 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), 63.

2 Ibid.
3 For an overview see Jon C. Laansma, “Hebrews: Yesterday, Today, and Future: An Illustrative
Survey, Diagnosis, Prescription,” in Christology, Hermeneutics, and Hebrews: Profiles from the
History of Interpretation (ed. Jon C. Laansma and Daniel J. Treier; LNTS 423; London: T&T

300 Koester
Such investigation is promising for those with theological interests. When

reading scholarship on Hebrews from past generations, I am intrigued with the
extent to which theological perspectives are at work, even in studies that use
the methods of historical criticism. Debates may concern the literary shape
of Hebrews and the function of the book in its ancient setting, yet the differ-
ences among interpreters are not limited to those questions. In their proposals
we can see various theological paradigms at work, and points of disagreement
may reflect the way those paradigms operate. Here I will consider three groups
of interpreters: Anglo-American, German, and French. Each reflects a different
theological tradition: Reformed, Lutheran, and Roman Catholic respectively.
I will focus on major studies of Hebrews that were done far enough in the past
for us to have some critical distance from them, and yet recently enough that
we still feel their influence.4
The question I will ask each interpreter is this: What is Hebrews about? One
could respond by simply outlining the contents of the book: Hebrews is about
the angelic adoration of the Son of God in heaven and the rebellion of the
wilderness generation on earth. It depicts the tabernacle on a cosmic scale
and traces Christ’s ascent beyond the curtain, where he intercedes on behalf of
others. Hebrews is about the new covenant and the epic story of faith, ranging
from Abraham and Sarah to Moses and the martyrs, to the stadium where the
writer’s own generation must run the race that is set before them. But respond-
ing in this way only invites another question: What is all that about? To develop
a sense of the whole, interpreters must place certain themes in the foreground
and allow others to recede. They must assign some sections a leading part and
give others supporting roles—and in the process their own theological per-
spectives come into play.
When we explore these dynamics, we can bring the historical-critical ques-
tions full circle. Interpreters often ask about the traditions that informed the
author of Hebrews and about the historical context in which the author of
Hebrews worked. Here we shall address those same questions to the interpret-
ers themselves. We shall ask about the theological traditions that shaped their
readings of the text and about the impact of the historical contexts in which
they worked.
Clark, 2012), 1–32. The essays in that volume explore interpretations of Hebrews from antiq-
uity to the modern period.
4 On theological lines of interpretation in the modern period and their relationship to earlier
forms of interpretation, see Craig R. Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation with Introduction
“ In Many and Various Ways ” 301
Freedom of Access to God
We begin with Anglo-American interpreters from the late-nineteenth and

early twentieth centuries. James Moffatt wrote the volume on Hebrews for
the International Critical Commentary (ICC) series, which was published
in 1924 and has remained in print down to the present. Moffatt taught at
the United Free Church College in Glasgow, Scotland, and later at Union
Theological Seminary in New York. He was president of the Society of Biblical
Literature in 1933. His commentary was dedicated to several previous exposi-
tors of Hebrews, including his teacher Alexander Balmain Bruce, who had also
belonged to the Free Church of Scotland. Both Bruce and Moffatt represented
the liberal or progressive side of the Presbyterian tradition, by which I mean
that they identified with the Reformed theological perspective of their church,
yet moved away from notions of biblical inerrancy and the substitutionary
theory of atonement and embraced the historical study of Scripture with its
sense that early Christianity had developed over time. Because of those views,
Bruce was sharply criticized by conservatives within the Free Church, though
he remained within that church. Moffatt in turn translated some of the work of
Adolf von Harnack, a leading proponent of liberal theology in Germany, who
had a developmental understanding of Christianity.5
The social context in which these interpreters worked was characterized by
currents of secularization in Europe and by an increasing sense of distance
between the biblical world and that of modern readers. Alexander Bruce wrote
a book on apologetics before he produced his monograph on Hebrews, and in
the former work he sketched out his sense of his own historical context. At the
center of his concern were modern readers who were not necessarily hostile
to Christianity but had honest doubts about the faith. Some had had their reli-
gious commitments weakened by a scientific worldview that made it problem-
atic to affirm a place for God. Also challenging was the sense that both nature
and religion were products of historical development. Darwin had shown that
biological species evolved over time, and studies of religion—even the religion
of Israel and Christianity itself—had shown that beliefs were not static but
always changing. That sense of ongoing change made it hard to affirm that any-
thing had ultimate value. Bruce was convinced that one could not commend
5 See Todd D. Still, “Bruce, A(lexander) B(almain) (1831–1899),” and David M. Scholer, “Moffatt,
James (1870–1944),” Dictionary of Major Biblical Interpreters (ed. Donald K. McKim; Dower’s
Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2007), 234–36 and 745–51. Moffatt translated von Harnack’s Die
Mission und Ausbreitung des Christentums in den ersten drei Jahrhunderten as The Expansion
of Christianity in the First Three Centuries (2 vols.; New York: Putnam, 1904–5).
302 Koester
Christianity to such people simply by appealing to the creeds of the churches.6

Instead, one had to show that Christianity met the heartfelt needs of human
beings in a definitive way.
When reconstructing Hebrews’ historical context, Bruce proposed that
the text had been written for Jewish Christians during the turbulence of the
revolt against Rome in the late sixties of the first century. But his interest in
contemporary apologetics seems to have been equally influential for his theo-
logical interpretation of Hebrews. After all, he entitled his work The Epistle
to the Hebrews: The First Apology for Christianity.7 When we ask Bruce, what
Hebrews is about, his answer is clear: Hebrews presents Christianity as the
religion of free and unrestricted access to God. For Bruce, Hebrews shows that
Christianity accomplishes the goal of all religion, which is to establish com-
plete and intimate fellowship with God.8 Bruce draws into the foreground of
his interpretation the passage at Heb 10:22 that urges readers to “draw near
with a true heart,” to draw near “in full assurance of faith.”9
In this paradigm, sin is construed primarily as that which separates
people from a God who seems remote, unapproachable, and ungracious. Sepa-
ration from God is the problem, and Christ’s death overcomes the separation
through his willing self-sacrifice, an act of self-giving that reveals the fullness
of divine grace in a way that Levitical sacrifices could never do. Christ offered
himself “through the eternal spirit” according to Heb 9:14, and it is through that
spirit of willing sacrifice that “the holy and loving mind” of God is revealed.10
That gracious revelation of the divine will affect human consciences, giving
people assurance that fellowship with God is possible and thereby bringing
them near to God. Because Christianity meets the human need for intimacy
with God so completely, it is not merely a stage in the ever-changing religious
life of humankind. Christianity is the final form that religion takes because it
fully meets the human need presupposed by religion. Christianity is the mes-
sage in which people can rightly put their trust.
That same theological paradigm informs James Moffatt’s commentary
on Hebrews in the ICC series. Responding to our question, what Hebrews is
6 Alexander Balmain Bruce, Apologetics or Christianity Defensively Stated (New York:

Scribner’s, 1892), 42–43.
7 Alexander Balmain Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews: The First Apology for Christianity.
An Exegetical Study (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1899).
8 Bruce, Epistle to the Hebrews, 15–16, 428.
9 The translation here and in what follows is that of Bruce.
10 Bruce, Epistle to the Hebrews, 378.
about, Moffatt agrees that “access to God” is central to the author’s mind.11 In
his historical reconstruction, Moffatt posits an ancient setting for Hebrews
that seems remarkably modern. He pictures the author addressing friends
whose attitude toward Christianity has become “relaxed,” as he calls it, because
of hardship, “the unpleasant experience of being scoffed at, and the ordinary
temptations of immorality.”12 Like Bruce, Moffatt identifies sin as “an interrup-
tion of fellowship” between God and human beings, and the goal of religion
as “the approach of the human soul to the divine Presence.” Hebrews declares
that Christianity “mediates this access and thereby secures the immediate
consciousness of God for man.”13 Because of the surpassing quality of the rev-
elation that has come through Jesus’s self-sacrifice, Moffatt follows Bruce in
stating that Hebrews presents Christianity’s claim to be final and definitive, so
that the message of Hebrews invites the readers’ trust and commitment.
Moffatt did not attempt to define a clear literary structure in Hebrews and
assumed that the book’s central idea was worked out through multiple sets of
images. In his judgment, the dogmatic theological tradition of the church had
misconstrued the symbolism by making it overly literal, and he took issue with
his own Reformed heritage at points. He noted that John Calvin thought that
Christ’s priesthood had to do with averting the wrath of God and that Christ
had to offer a sacrifice in order to make satisfaction for human sins. Moffatt
countered that in Israel’s tradition sacrifices were not offered to appease divine
wrath but “to assure people that their relations with their God had not been
interrupted.” Christ’s actions took place to establish the direct fellowship of
God with his people once and for all.14 In the Hibbert Lectures, which Moffatt
delivered in 1921 while writing his Hebrews commentary, he put it this way:
“When we approach the New Testament, what we see is the conviction that the
clue to the enigma of human life in this inscrutable world lies in a revelation
of God, which was expressed in the cross of Jesus Christ, a revelation of divine
love in its full power at the cost of suffering and sacrifice.”15 For Moffatt, the
revelation of divine love is the way fellowship with God is created.
11 James Moffatt, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (ICC;
Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1924), xliii.
12 Moffatt, Critical and Exegetical Commentary, xxiv.
13 Moffatt, Critical and Exegetical Commentary, xliii.
14 Moffatt, Critical and Exegetical Commentary, xxxiv–xxxv. He refers to Calvin’s Institutes of
the Christian Religion 2.15.6.
15 James Moffatt, The Approach to the New Testament: Lectures Delivered in London and
Cambridge, April–May, 1921 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1921), 39.
304 Koester
At the same time, Moffatt followed the Calvinist tradition when he insisted
that Christ’s singular role as the high priest put an end to the practice of call-
ing church leaders “priests” and that the liturgical practices associated with
priesthood were not to be reproduced in the worship of the Christian Church.
Moffatt’s approach ran counter to the major lines of Roman Catholic thought,
but it fit well within his own theological paradigm, which emphasized “imme-
diate consciousness of God” for human beings.16
Hold Fast to the Word of God
I shift now to a second social context, namely, Germany in the 1930s and the
conflicts between the Confessing Church (Bekennende Kirche) and National
Socialism. After Adolf Hitler came to power in 1933, the Nazi state embarked
on a program of aligning social and political life with its racist policies
(Gleichschaltung). That effort included seeking greater control of the church.
One step was promoting the election of a new Protestant bishop, who would
work closely with the Nazis. Another step was insisting that the church’s consti-
tution include the Aryan paragraph, which excluded people of Jewish descent
from leadership positions in the church. The Nazis found allies among the
German Christians (Deutsche Christen), a group of Protestants who advocated
a racist understanding of Christianity and wanted to minimize or exclude
Jewish influences from the church’s theology and practice. The Confessing
Church arose in response to these developments. It rejected state interference
in the affairs of the church and insisted that ultimate loyalty was to be given to
Christ. The Confessing Church also rejected the Aryan paragraph, which made
race rather than faith the defining element in Christian identity.
With that background in mind, I consider here two interpreters of Hebrews
from this period: Otto Michel, who wrote the Meyers Kommentar volume on
Hebrews, published in 1936, and Ernst Käsemann, who wrote Das wandernde
Gottesvolk, published in 1939. Both worked within the Lutheran tradition; both
engaged in the struggle on the side of the Confessing Church; and both related
16 Moffatt, Critical and Exegetical Commentary, xlv, lv. In his commentary on Hebrews, John
Calvin said that the purpose of the book was “to prove what the office of Christ is” and
that “by His coming an end was put to ceremonies.” He added, “Our business with the
papists is the same” (The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Hebrews and The First and Second
Epistles of Peter ([Calvin’s New Testament Commentaries 12; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1963)], 2). Bruce (Epistle to the Hebrews, 439) agreed that Christ’s priesthood ruled out the
idea of calling Christian leaders “priests.”
their historical-critical work on Hebrews to the conflicts of their own time.17

Otto Michel began writing his commentary on Hebrews in January 1933, the
month Hitler became chancellor of Germany. When the commentary was pub-
lished three years later, the opening line of the preface noted that the work
was academic and yet inseparable from the turbulent situation of the church
in those years.18
Michel had initially been supportive of National Socialism, which seemed to
offer hope for the renewal of Germany after the failure of the Weimar Republic.
But he soon found himself in conflict with the state over its attempts to dictate
church policies, and he joined the Confessing Church in 1934, adding his pro-
test to the protests of Karl Barth, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and others. Michel later
commented, “It was especially important to me that my work on the Epistle
to the Hebrews accompanied the way of the Confessing Church and the gen-
eration of students that was connected to it, who in all human shattering and
death, also stand right under the promise of this epistle.”19
When we ask Michel, what Hebrews is about, his answer differs from that
of Moffatt and Bruce. Michel regarded Hebrews not as an invitation to those
who felt distant from God to draw closer, but as a summons to persevere in
faith, as a call for the church to hold firmly to the Word of God. In the language
of Heb 10:23, the message is, “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope with-
out wavering, for he who has promised is faithful.” Michel said the point of
Hebrews’ theological exposition “lies in the paraenetic sections, which put the
hearer in the position of concrete decision and seek to make the community
ready to undergo suffering.”20
Michel emphasized that Hebrews calls itself a “word of exhortation”
(13:22), and he understood that expression in light of the Lutheran emphasis
17 On Michel see Christoph Schmitt, “Michel, Otto,” in Biographisch-bibliographisches

Kirchenlexikon 14:1253–61; Klaus Haacker, “Otto Michel (1913–1993),” in Neutestamentliche
Wissenschaft nach 1945: Hauptvertreter der deutschsprachigen Exegese in der Darstellung
ihrer Schüler (ed. Cilliers Breytenbach and Rudolf Hoppe; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 2008), 341–52; Gerhard Maier, “Otto Michel (1913–1993),” Dictionary of Major
Biblical Interpreters, 739–42. On Käsemann see Wolfgang Schrage, “Ernst Käsemann
(1906–1998),” in Breytenbach and Hoppe, eds., Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft, 269–87;
Ralph P. Martin, “Käsemann, Ernst (1906–1998),” Dictionary of Major Biblical Interpreters,
601–5.
18 Otto Michel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (KEK 13; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1936),
preface.
19 Otto Michel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (2d ed.; KEK 13; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1949), III. The English translations of Michel’s comments are my own.
20 Michel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (1936), 7.
306 Koester
on the proclamation of God’s Word and the centrality of that Word in the-
ology. Although Luther’s own attitude toward Hebrews was mixed, Michel
thought Hebrews was rightly perceived as an expression of the Word.21 Michel
read Hebrews as proclamation, as a sermon addressed to hearers in an actual
situation, and he said that he wrote his commentary in order that people might
better “hear the Word of God in human words.”22
Michel’s view of the structure of Hebrews fit his theological perspective
quite well. He divided Hebrews into three parts. The first part is framed by ref-
erences to God’s Word: it begins in ch. 1, which tells of God speaking through
the prophets and the Son, and it ends with the living and active Word of God
in 4:12–13. The second section begins with the call to hold fast to the confession
at the end of Heb 4 and then presents Christ as high priest. The third section
also begins with an exhortation to hold fast to the confession, in Heb 10, and
then calls readers to persevere in faith. Structuring Hebrews around themes
of God’s Word and the confession of faith was not unique to Michel. Michel
acknowledged his debt to the Lutheran theologian Martin Kähler, who in his
paraphrase of Hebrews had defined the opening section around references to
the Word as Michel did, and who named the major sections of Hebrews for
“The Messenger of our Confession” and “The High Priest of our Confession.”23
The Lutheran tradition not only emphasized the centrality of God’s Word,
but also defined its identity around the theological positions in the Augsburg
Confession and other confessional writings adopted at the time of the
Reformation. Then, in the 1930s, the Confessing Church made adherence to
God’s Word and to common confessional statements the basis of their resis-
tance to National Socialism. Consider the other writings that Michel published
in 1934–1935, at the time he was writing his Hebrews commentary. One article,
focused on “the effective Word,” dealt with the way God’s Word achieved its
purposes. Another article promoted resistance to Nazi interference in church
life by insisting that the office of bishop had to be seen in light of the Bible
and the church’s confession. Still another article dealt with the theme of bib-
21 See Luther’s preface to Hebrews in Luther’s Works 35 (ed. E. Theodore Bachmann;
Philadelphia: Fortress, 1960), 394–95; cf. Koester, Hebrews, 35–37.
22 Michel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (1936), preface.
23 Martin Kähler, Neutestamentliche Schriften (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell-
schaft, 1968), 6–7. Michel notes the influence of Kähler in his prefaces to his Hebrews
commentary. Kähler divided Hebrews into two main sections, 1:1–4:13 and 4:14–12:29, with
ch. 13 as the conclusion. The three-part division used by Michel had occasionally been
used by others before him, e.g., Otto Pfleiderer, Primitive Christianity (4 vols.; New York:
Putnam’s, 1906–11), 3:272–75.
lical confession and witness and appeared along with articles by Barth and
Bonhoeffer on the importance of a faith confession in the church and the
world.24
As Michel wrote his commentary in the 1930s and revised it in the 1940s, it is
not surprising that the themes of the Word and holding fast to the confession
came to the foreground in his sense of the whole. The preface to the second
edition of the commentary not only expands the reference to the Confessing
Church but also proposes that the opening lines of Hebrews elaborate the
community’s confession, that readers are to grasp the definitive Word of God
in the Son, and that Hebrews then draws on the Old Testament to deepen the
church’s confession. His preface notes the importance of an article by Günther
Bornkamm—who was also active in the Confessing Church—on confession
in the Epistle to the Hebrews. In the second edition he changed the title of
the section on 10:19–39 from “Persevering in Faith” to “Holding Firmly to the
Confession,” and the title of the section on 13:1–21 from “Christian Rules for
Life” to “Particular Exhortations of God’s Word.”25
A similar interplay of Lutheran categories and the struggles of the Confessing
Church is reflected in Ernst Käsemann’s Das wandernde Gottesvolk. Although
the book is often remembered for its use of Gnostic sources, Käsemann later
explained,
my religious-historical sketch more or less veiled the theological concern

which was important to me. By describing the church as the new people
of God on its wandering through the wilderness, following the Pioneer
and Perfecter of faith, I of course had in mind that radical Confessing
Church which resisted the tyranny in Germany, and which had to be
summoned to patience so that it could continue its way through endless
wastes.26
24 Otto Michel, “Das wirkende Wort,” ZThK 15 (1934), 33–46; “Das Bischofsamt nach Bibel
und Bekenntnis,” MPTh 30 (1934): 312–19; “Biblisches Bekennen und Bezeugen,” EvTh 2
(1935): 231–45. In that same volume of the journal Karl Barth wrote an article entitled “Die
Möglichkeit einer Bekenntnisunion” and Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s contribution was entitled
“Die Bekennende Kirche und die Ökumene.”
25 Michel, Der Brief on die Hebräer (1948), III–IV. See Günther Bornkamm, “Das Bekenntnis
im Hebräerbrief,” ThBl 21 (1942): 56–66.
26 Ernst Käsemann, Kirchliche Konflikte (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1982), 17.
English translation by Roy A. Harrisville and Irving L. Sandberg in their introduction
to Ernst Käsemann, The Wandering People of God: An Investigation of the Letter to the
Hebrews (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984), 13. Käsemann’s work first appeared as Das wan-
dernde Gottesvolk: Eine Untersuchung zum Hebräerbrief (FRLANT 55 N. F. 37; Göttingen:
308 Koester
Käsemann drafted the book while he was in a Gestapo prison, after the Nazis
had arrested him for speaking against National Socialism and the German
Christians.
Käsemann begins his study by focusing on the Word of God that is heard
(λόγος τῆς ἀκοῆς), quoting an expression from Heb 4:2. Such a Word is both
a summons to a journey and a message to which people must hold fast.
Käsemann continues by noting that in Hebrews the Word comes to people in
the form of a promise (ἐπαγγελία), and as a promise it calls people to make
their way forward toward a future that can only be known by faith and not by
sight (4:1; cf. 11:1).27 When foregrounding these elements, Käsemann drew his
language from Hebrews, but he also echoed major themes from his theological
tradition, since Luther and the confessional writings also identified “promise”
as a principal form of God’s Word.28 What is significant is the way Käsemann
drew out that theme of promise in Hebrews and related it directly to persever-
ance through suffering, which was the issue facing the Confessing Church of
his time.29
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1939). The English translation is based on the second German
edition from 1957.
27 Käsemann, Wandering People of God, 17–56.
28 See Martin Luther, “Preface to the New Testament,” in Luther’s Works 35, 357–62. Similarly,
in article four of the “Apology of the Augsburg Confession,” Philip Melanchthon had writ-
ten, “All Scripture should be divided into these two chief doctrines, the law and the prom-
ises.” See Theodore G. Tappert, ed., The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical
Lutheran Church (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1959), 108.
29 The context of the church struggles in the 1930s also points to the significance of these
writers’ comments about Hebrews’ connection to Judaism. Käsemann insisted that the
idea that Hebrews warned against some perceived apostasy toward Judaism stemmed
from a prejudice that had to be buried. For Käsemann, any charge of an “anti-Jewish
character on the part of Hebrews must be roundly contested” (The Wandering People of
God, 25). Michel was deeply involved in the Confessing Church from 1934 onward, and in
Jewish-Christian dialog with Martin Buber and other Jewish scholars after World War II.
Given his membership in the Nazi party in the early 1930s, however, questions have been
raised about his earlier attitudes toward Judaism. Here the preface to his Hebrews com-
mentary of 1936 is helpful. From the anti-Semitic viewpoint of the German Christians,
the Old Testament was the source of Jewish perspectives that were to be eliminated from
Christian theology, but Michel insisted that Christ and the Old Testament had to be taken
together. He said that Hebrews, like Philo, was grounded in the Hellenistic synagogue and
that Hebrews’ connection to the Old Testament is “the strength of its proclamation, not
its weakness” (Der Brief an die Hebräer [1936], preface).
Priestly Mediation through Christ and the Church
Now I shift to a third context—Roman Catholic scholarship after World War II.
One of the formative elements in this period was the papal encyclical Divino
Afflante Spiritu, which was issued by Pius XII in 1943. This call for fresh atten-
tion to be paid to the Hebrew and Greek texts of Scripture allowed the use
of historical critical methods, alongside theology and tradition, when inter-
preting sacred texts. The 1950s saw a renewal of biblical scholarship in Roman
Catholic circles, as scholars engaged more broadly than ever in the ecumenical
study of Scripture. Those efforts in turn informed the theological work of the
Second Vatican Council, which exerted a major influence on church life and
practice in the 1960s.
One of the most influential Catholic interpreters of Hebrews in this period
was Albert Vanhoye. A French scholar and member of the Society of Jesus,
Vanhoye had studied at the Sorbonne in Paris, the Jesuit Scholasticates in
France and Belgium, and the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome. The focus of
his early work on Hebrews was its literary structure.30 He was dissatisfied with
the “many and various ways” of organizing the book that had been proposed
by Michel and others, but he was intrigued by the approach of another French
Jesuit, Léon Vaganay.31 Vaganay’s idea was that Hebrews marked its units of
thought by using catchwords that brought together the main ideas in each sec-
tion. By tracing that pattern throughout the book, Vaganay had concluded that
Hebrews could be divided into five major sections, framed by a brief introduc-
tion and conclusion; Vanhoye developed this approach into a way of seeing
Hebrews as a whole.
If we were to ask Vanhoye, what Hebrews is about, his response would focus
on Christ’s high priestly mediation of salvation. The preface to Vanhoye’s work,
written by Stanislas Lyonnet, compares its approach to the way one might
study architecture. Lyonnet notes that the builder of a basilica understood
that the focus of the liturgy affected the way the basilica itself was designed.32
In the same way, Hebrews was structured around the central idea of Christ’s
30 Albert Vanhoye, La structure littéraire de l’épître aux Hébreux (2nd ed.; Paris: Desclée de
Brouwer, 1976; 1st ed. 1963).
31 “Le plan de l’épître aux Hébreux,” Mémorial Lagrange (Paris: Gabalda, 1940), 269–77.
32 Vanhoye, La structure littéraire, 7. The specific example is the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem.
The fifth-century Greek architect centered the building on the tomb, where the resur-
rection took place. Later, a medieval Latin architect placed the main altar at the site of
Calvary, which changed the arrangement and reflected a different sense of the principal
liturgical action.
310 Koester
high priestly mediation. Vanhoye argued that the major sections of Hebrews
were arranged in concentric circles. The central section, in Heb 6–10, concerns
the high priestly sacrifice of Christ, and the center of that central section is
Heb 9:11–12, which says that Christ the high priest has “entered once for all into
the sanctuary, not with the blood of goats and calves, but with his own blood,
thus obtaining an eternal redemption.”33
To understand Hebrews, Vanhoye moves out from that central liturgical por-
trayal of Christ’s work to a second ring of thought, which concerns the church.
In this second ring, Vanhoye sees the comparison of the church to the wilder-
ness generation being enclosed within the greater motif of Christ’s priesthood,
which is noted in Heb 3 and 5, with the theme of the church then continuing
in the extended call for faithfulness in Heb 11. Finally, there is a third ring, an
outer ring consisting of the first and final chapters of Hebrews, which have
eschatological aspects. So from this perspective, a well-integrated movement
runs outward from Christ’s high priestly offering in the center to the life of the
church and its situation in the world.34
The importance of Hebrews for the theological question of mediation had
been recognized by Roman Catholic interpreters long before. In the sixteenth
century one important debate focused on the nature of the Mass as a means
of grace. Catholic interpreters appealed to Hebrews in order to support the
understanding of the sacrament as a re-presentation of Christ’s sacrifice, over
against Protestant objections that the Eucharist could not be understood in
sacrificial terms.35 The question took a different turn as a result of the Second
Vatican Council, which met from 1962 to 1965. Of particular importance for
Vanhoye’s ongoing work on Hebrews was the council’s dogmatic constitution
Lumen Gentium, approved in 1964, which defined the nature of the church.
The document referred to priesthood in three ways: first, it identified Christ
as the church’s high priest; second, it said that all who are baptized into
Christ share a holy priesthood and present themselves as living sacrifices;
and third, it affirmed that clergy are priests in a distinctive sense, since they
are ordained to act on behalf of Christ by offering the eucharistic sacrifice for
others.36
33 The pivotal role of Heb 9:11–12 is evident in Vanhoye’s early publication “La structure cen-
tral de l’épître aux Hébreux,” RSR 47 (1959): 44–60.
34 Vanhoye, La structure littéraire, 237–58.
35 See Koester, Hebrews, 39–40.
36 Lumen Gentium section 10. See Walter M. Abbott, ed., The Documents of Vatican II
(America Press and Association Press, 1966), 26–27.
Controversies developed in the church over this way of using priestly lan-
guage, and Vanhoye specifically noted those contemporary disputes in his
subsequent studies of Hebrews. On the one hand, he recorded, traditionalists
thought the council had gone too far, objecting that its emphasis on the priestly
character of the laity diminished the dignity of the clergy; some traditionalists
organized their own ceremonies and even occupied churches. On the other
hand, others thought the council had not gone far enough, since the language
of priesthood and sacrifice was no longer meaningful in a secularized world.37
Responding to these controversies, Vanhoye posited a first-century con-
text in which ancient Christians are asking questions about the relation-
ship of their community to the institutions of Israel, with specific questions
addressing the priesthood. The early church was aware of the importance of
the Levitical priesthood but also knew that priests in Jerusalem had opposed
Jesus and had taken part in his condemnation. Vanhoye pictures the writer
of Hebrews addressing first-century Christians who were asking whether the
role of high priest was really fulfilled in Christ and how his priesthood related
to the priestly institutions of their own time.38 His study is clearly exegetical,
and although his stated goal was to proceed inductively, without “a priori defi-
nitions” and “previously established positions,” the work deeply engages the
theological vision of the Second Vatican Council and his conclusions are very
much in keeping with the lines the council established.39
Like the council, Vanhoye begins with Christ as the church’s high priestly
mediator, whose sacrifice brought an end to the priestly institutions of ancient
Israel. Any use of priestly language within the church must therefore begin
with Christ and is not an extension of the older Levitical practice. Next,
Vanhoye asks how Christ’s priestly mediation is exercised within the church.
Theologically, he insists that mediation must take tangible form. For Vanhoye
37 Albert Vanhoye, Our Priest is Christ: The Doctrine of the Epistle to the Hebrews (trans.
M. Innocentia Richards, Rome: Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1977). He notes Lumen Gentium
on p. 3 and discusses wider issues of priesthood in light of Hebrews on pp. 40–44. A more
extended account of the debates following the Second Vatican Council appears in Old
Testament Priests and the New Priest according to the New Testament (Petersham, Mass.:
St. Bede’s, 1986), xi.
38 Vanhoye says that in Hebrews “we see the great depth of the author’s answers to the ques-
tion the Christians of the first century had to face: is the Christian community without a
priest? Does the priestly institution of the Old Covenant find its fulfillment in the mystery
of Christ or not?” (Old Testament Priests, 232; cf. xii–xiii, 91). Cf. the more general com-
ments in his Situation du Christ: Hébreux 1–2 (Paris: Cerf, 1969), 46.
39 Vanhoye, Old Testament Priests, xiv–xv.
312 Koester
“a mediation that is not concretely expressed is no longer a mediation.”40 So

he turns to the sacraments as channels of mediation in Hebrews: he discerns
allusions to baptism in references to the faithful being washed in body and
cleansed in heart (10:22), and he sees a eucharistic reference in Hebrews’ com-
ment about the church having an altar from which the faithful can eat (13:10).
Finally, Vanhoye observes that when Hebrews refers to the altar, it also men-
tions the church’s “leaders,” who make Christ’s priestly mediation tangible
within the community. This allows readers to make connections. Hebrews
says that Christ brought the Word of God and that the leaders now teach it.
One can infer that since Christ is to be obeyed, the church’s leaders are to be
obeyed. Vanhoye wrote, “Although the power of ‘rendering worship to the liv-
ing God’ (9:14) is communicated to all the faithful . . . the power of representing
the mediation of Christ is given only to well-defined instruments, sacramental
actions and the persons of the ‘leaders.’ ” It is not “a power to exercise media-
tion in the place of Christ, but only of the power to manifest the mediation of
Christ.”41 Although the “leaders” mentioned in Heb 13 are not called “priests,”
Vanhoye sees the trajectory set by the book leading in that direction.
Conclusion
So what is Hebrews about? All three perspectives considered above empha-

size freedom of access to God, the summons to hold fast to the Word, and the
centrality of priestly mediation. Each approach draws elements from Hebrews
and develops these elements within a different theological paradigm. It must
be emphasized that these interpreters do not simply impose their views onto
Hebrews. Rather, each of them engages the book seriously, but that engage-
ment is guided by a particular point of view. I have highlighted how each inter-
preter’s theological tradition and historical context shaped his point of view.
I have also argued that theological perspectives are not simply an afterthought,
as if these interpreters did their historical and literary work in isolation from
other concerns and then applied their results to questions arising from their
own time. Theological factors are at work throughout the interpretive process.
We can see the interplay of paradigms at points where these interpret-
ers disagree with each other. For example, Michel was theologically trained
to give attention to the dynamic power of God’s speech or Word, so he draws
references to the Word into the foreground and—like others in his church’s
40 Vanhoye, Old Testament Priests, 228.

41 Vanhoye, Old Testament Priests, 234.
tradition—he sees them framing Heb 1:1–4:13. By way of contrast, Vanhoye’s

attention is attracted to what might seem like a passing reference to Christ’s
priesthood in the middle of that section (2:17–18), and he draws that refer-
ence to priesthood into the foreground as the announcement of a new section
that better fits his concentric conception of the whole. The perspective is not
only literary but also theological.42 Similarly, where Käsemann foregrounds
the motif of wandering in the desert and the need for perseverance into an
unseen future, Vanhoye disagrees with that approach and points to Hebrews’
emphasis on the nearness of access to God.43 But where Bruce and Moffatt
insist that such nearness of access precludes priestly mediation through
the leaders of the church, Vanhoye argues that mediation needs to take tan-
gible form through the sacramental actions and leadership of the church.
Such d ifferences are not tangential to the interpretation of Hebrews. They
reflect different conceptions of the whole.
We began with Ulrich Luz’s comments about the role of reception history
in promoting self-awareness. As we consider how interpreters from the past
have approached the text, we find that the differences between their perspec-
tives and ours can make us more aware of the assumptions we make and the
interpretive lenses we use. The question is not whether some of these assump-
tions and lenses are theological, but rather how theological paradigms shape
our sense of the whole, how these paradigms work in dialogue between inter-
preters, and how these paradigms might be challenged and reshaped by such
encounters.
It may seem daunting for students of Hebrews to attend not only to the tra-
ditions and historical context of the biblical writer but also to the traditions
and contexts of later interpreters. Yet those concerned with questions of the
theology and contemporary relevance of Hebrews will actually be helped by
the process. The interpreters considered in this chapter remained attuned
to the concerns of their own time, which ranged from secularization to conflict
between the church and the state and to disputes over the nature of the church
and its leadership. They found Hebrews to be compelling in their own con-
texts, encouraging us to think that the same will be true for those who grapple
with the book in the twenty-first century.
42 For Vanhoye’s critique of Michel, see Vanhoye, La structure littéraire, 32.
43 See Vanhoye’s critique of Käsemann in Albert Vanhoye, “Longue marche ou accès tout
proche? Le context biblique de Hébreux 3,7–4,11,” Bib 49 (1968): 9–26.
314 Koester
Bibliography
Bruce, Alexander Balmain. The Epistle to the Hebrews: The First Apology for Christianity.
An Exegetical Study. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1899.
Calvin, John. The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Hebrews and the First and Second
Epistles of Peter. Calvin’s New Testament Commentaries 12. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1963.
Käsemann, Ernst. The Wandering People of God: An Investigation of the Letter to the
Hebrews. Translated by Roy A. Harrisville and Irving L. Sandberg. Minneapolis:
Augsburg, 1984. German original: Das wandernde Gottesvolk: Eine Untersuchung
zum Hebräerbrief. Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments 55 N. F. 37; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1939.
Michel, Otto. Der Brief an die Hebräer. 2nd ed. Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar 13.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1947. First edition, 1936.
Other Literature
Abbott, Walter M., ed. The Documents of Vatican II. America Press and Association
Press, 1966.
Bornkamm, Günther. “Das Bekenntnis im Hebräerbrief.” Theologische Blätter 21 (1942):
56–66.
Bruce, Alexander Balmain. Apologetics or Christianity Defensively Stated. New York:
Scribner’s, 1892.
Haacker, Klaus. “Otto Michel (1913–1993).” Pages 341–52 in Neutestamentliche
Wissenschaft nach 1945: Hauptvertreter der deutschsprachigen Exegese in der
Darstellung ihrer Schüler. Edited by Cilliers Breytenbach and Rudolf Hoppe.
Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2008.
Harnack, Adolf von. The Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries. Translated
by James Moffatt. 2 vols. New York: Putnam, 1904–5.
Kähler, Martin. Neutestamentliche Schriften. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell-
schaft, 1968.
Käsemann, Ernst. Kirchliche Konflikte. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1982.
Laansma, Jon C. “Hebrews: Yesterday, Today, and Future: An Illustrative Survey,
Diagnosis, Prescription.” Pages 1–32 in Christology, Hermeneutics, and Hebrews:
Profiles from the History of Interpretation. Edited by Jon C. Laansma and Daniel J.
Treier. Library of New Testament Studies 423. London: T&T Clark, 2012.
Luz, Ulrich. Matthew 1–7. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007.
Maier, Gerhard. “Otto Michel (1913–1993).” Pages 739–42 in Dictionary of Major Biblical
Interpreters. Edited by Donald K. McKim. Dower’s Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2007.
Martin, Ralph P. “Käsemann, Ernst (1906–1998).” Pages 601–5 in Dictionary of Major
Biblical Interpreters. Edited by Donald K. McKim. Dower’s Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic,
2007.
Michel, Otto. “Biblisches Bekennen und Bezeugen.” Evangelische Theologie 2 (1935):
231–45.
———. “Das Bischofsamt nach Bibel und Bekenntnis.” Monatsschrift für
Pastoraltheologie 30 (1934): 312–19.
———. “Das wirkende Wort.” Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche 15 (1934): 33–46.
Moffatt, James. The Approach to the New Testament: Lectures Delivered in London and
Cambridge, April–May, 1921. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1921.
Pfleiderer, Otto. Primitive Christianity. 4 vols. New York: Putnam’s, 1906–11.
Schmitt, Christoph. “Michel, Otto.” Pages 1253–61 in vol. 14 of Biographisch-
bibliographisches Kirchenlexikon. Edited by Friedrich Wilhelm Bautz and Traugott
Bautz. Hertzberg: Bautz, 1998.
Scholer, David M. “Moffatt, James (1870–1944).” Pages 745–51 in Dictionary of Major
Biblical Interpreters. Edited by Donald K. McKim. Dower’s Grove, Ill.: IVP
Academic, 2007.
Schrage, Wolfgang Schrage. “Ernst Käsemann (1906–1998).” Pages 269–87 in
Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft nach 1945: Hauptvertreter der deutschsprachigen
Exegese in der Darstellung ihrer Schüler. Edited by Cilliers Breytenbach and Rudolf
Hoppe. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 2008.
Still, Todd D. “Bruce, A(lexander) B(almain) (1831–1899).” Pages 234–36 in Dictionary of
Major Biblical Interpreters. Edited by Donald K. McKim. Dower’s Grove, Ill.: IVP
Academic, 2007.
Tappert, Theodore G., ed. The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical
Lutheran Church. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1959.
Vaganay, Léon. “Le plan de l’épître aux Hébreux.” Pages 269–77 in Mémorial Lagrange.
Paris: Gabalda, 1940.
Vanhoye, Albert. “La structure central de l’épître aux Hébreux.” Recherches de science
religieuse 47 (1959): 44–60.
———. La structure littéraire de l’épître aux Hébreux. 2nd ed. Paris: Desclée de Brouwer,
1976. 1st ed., 1963.
———. “Longue marche ou accès tout proche? Le context biblique de Hébreux
3,7–4,11.” Biblica 49 (1968): 9–26.
———. Old Testament Priests and the New Priest according to the New Testament.
Translated by J. Bernard Orchard. Petersham, Mass.: St. Bede’s, 1986.
———. Our Priest is Christ: The Doctrine of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Translated by
M. Innocentia Richards. Rome: P. I. B., 1977.
———. Situation du Christ: Hébreux 1–2. Lectio divina 58. Paris: Cerf, 1969.
Stumbling Block or Stepping Stone?
On the Reception History of Hebrews 8:13*
Jesper Svartvik
Introduction
In referring to Rom 9–11, Nostra Aetate—the Roman Catholic declaration on

interreligious relations that was adopted by the Second Vatican Council
on October 28, 1965—was fundamentally different from earlier Christian
documents that had addressed the topics of Jews and Judaism.1 Previously,
references or allusions to passages in Hebrews had dominated a triumphalist
discourse that presented Christianity as the new or true Israel (verus Israel)
* An early draft of this chapter was summarized at the Society of Biblical Literature meet-
ing in Chicago on November 17, 2012, and a much-abbreviated version was published in
Dynamics of Difference: Christianity and Alterity (ed. James Matarazzo and Ulrich Schmiedel;
Edinburgh: T&T Clark/Continuum, 2015). Heartfelt thanks are due in particular to John
Borelli and Philip A. Cunningham, and also to Mary C. Boys, Anna Frydenberg, Craig R.
Koester, Göran Larsson, Svante Lundgren, Michael McGarry, Inger Nebel, John T. Pawlikowski,
Joseph Sievers, and Jakob Wirén for many helpful suggestions and comments. Many thanks
also to Jaya Reddy, who corrected and improved my English in this article. While preparing
this chapter, I profited considerably from the impressive commentary by Craig R. Koester on
Hebrews, especially his extensive and most informative introduction, see his Hebrews: A New
Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001), 19–131.
1 Nostra Aetate consists of 41 sentences, 17 of which form the fourth paragraph. Romans 11:29
is quoted twice in the Vatican II documents, in Nostra Aetate and also in Lumen Gentium.
Joseph Sievers (“ ‘God’s Gifts and Call are Irrevocable’: The Interpretation of Rom 11:29 and
Its Uses,” SBL Seminar Papers, 1997 [Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997], 347) asserts that Rom 11:29
had never been cited in an official Catholic pronouncement before Vatican II. On the shift
from Hebrews to Romans, see, e.g., Joseph Sievers, “ ‘God’s Gifts and Call are Irrevocable’:
The Reception of Romans 11:29 through the Centuries and Christian-Jewish Relations,” in
Reading Israel in Romans: Legitimacy and Plausibility of Divergent Interpretations (ed. Cristina
Grenholm and Daniel Patte; Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2000), 158, and Petra
Heldt, “Protestant Perspectives after Forty Years: A Critical Assessment of Nostra Aetate,” in
Nostra Aetate: Origins, Promulgation, Impact on Jewish-Catholic Relations (ed. Neville Lamdan
and Alberto Melloni; Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2007), 169, and John Connelly, From Enemy to Brother:
The Revolution in Catholic Teaching on the Jews, 1933–1965 (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press, 2012), esp. 3, 243, 256, 299.

Stumbling Block or Stepping Stone ? 317
that had superseded carnal Israel, the old Israel (vetus Israel).2 As a result,
inherently, verus Israel was also versus Israel, that is, anti-Jewish.3
Joseph Sievers is amongst those who have emphasized the shift from a time-
honored, yet deeply disquieting, discourse of supersessionism that was built
upon a polemical reading of Hebrews to a discourse inspired by Pauline theol-
ogy in Romans:
Only under the impact of the onslaught of antisemitism in this century

were eyes of Christian theologians, writers, exegetes and church leaders
opened to the possibility that Rom. 11.29 . . . rather than e.g. Heb 8 might
provide a hermeneutical key to better understanding the Jewish people’s
relations with God and with the Church.4
John T. Pawlikowski goes as far as stating that Nostra Aetate brackets almost
two millennia of church teaching on Judaism:
Nostra Aetate . . . represents one of the most decided shifts in Catholic

thinking emerging from the Council. . . . In making their argument for a
total reversal in Catholic thinking on Jews and Judaism, the bishops of
the Council bypassed almost all the teachings about Jews and Judaism
in Christian thought prior to Vatican II and returned to chapters 9–11 of
Paul’s Letter to the Romans where the Apostle reaffirms the continued
inclusion of the Jews in the covenant after the coming of Christ even
though this remains for him a “mystery” that defies complete theological
explanation. In one sense, the bishops in Nostra Aetate were picking up
where St. Paul left off in the first century.5
2 Nostra Aetate states that the Church is the new people of God (Ecclesia . . . novus populus Dei)
but does not state that it is the new Israel at least partly because the authors sought to avoid
using the word “Israel” in the text because of its political implications.
3 On the history of Christian anti-Judaism, see, e.g., Edward H. Flannery, The Anguish of the
Jews: Twenty-Three Centuries of Antisemitism (rev. ed.; New York: Stimulus, 1995), James
Carroll, Constantine’s Sword: The Church and the Jews; A History (Boston: Houton Miflin, 2001),
Robert Michael, A History of Catholic Antisemitism: The Dark Side of the Church (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), and also ch. 2 in Paul O’Shea, A Cross Too Heavy: Pope Pius XII and
the Jews of Europe (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 27–51.
4 Sievers, “ ‘God’s Gifts and Call are Irrevocable’: The Interpretation of Rom 11:29 and Its Uses,”
356.
5 John T. Pawlikowski, “The Search for a New Paradigm for the Christian-Jewish Relationship:
A Response to Michael Signer,” in Reinterpreting Revelation and Tradition: Jews and Christians
in Conversation (ed. John T. Pawlikowski and Hayim Goren Perelmuter; Franklin, Wis.: Sheed
318 Svartvik
This chapter will address the reception history of Heb 8:13—“In speaking of
‘a new covenant,’ he has made the first one obsolete. And what is obsolete and
growing old will soon disappear”—in relation in particular to the remarkable
return of Rom 9–11 in theological treatises of various kinds on Jewish-Christian
relations.
Romans versus Hebrews: The Good Text–Bad Text Paradigm
In the juxtaposition of Romans and Hebrews we encounter what we might term

the “good text–bad text” paradigm. Just as two police officers might choose to
play different roles (“good cop–bad cop”) in an interrogation, biblical texts can
be quoted or referred to because of the roles they appear to play. When inter-
religious interactions, especially Jewish-Christian relations, are debated, some
participants refer to Rom 9–11 (especially 11:29), while others prefer to quote
Heb 8 (especially v. 13).6 These preferences are a prime example of the “good
text–bad text” phenomenon.
The purpose of this chapter is certainly not to depose Romans. The impor-
tance of this Pauline epistle in the prehistory of Nostra Aetate can never be
overestimated: the inventory of Israel’s heritage in Rom 9:4–5, the remarkable
statement in 11:29 that God’s gifts are irrevocable, and the noteworthy theocen-
tric doxology in 11:33–36 are but a few examples of the richness and resonance
of Romans for people of faith who seek to further interreligious relations
between Jews and Christians.7
But, unquestionably, Hebrews has often been a stumbling block. The exam-
ples are legion, but two will suffice here. In the Cotton Patch Gospel, Clarence
Jordan’s paraphrase of the biblical texts, Jordan interweaves Heb 8:9 and 8:13:
“ ‘They [i.e., the Jewish nation] wouldn’t live by that constitution, so I walked
& Ward, 2000), 25. For additional comments, see John Connelly, “The Catholic Church and
Mission to the Jews,” in After Vatican II: Trajectories and Hermeneutics (ed. James L. Heft
and John O’Malley, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 119–20.
6
One example will suffice: Joseph Sievers (“ ‘God’s Gifts and Call are Irrevocable’:
The Interpretation of Rom 11:29 and Its Uses,” 352) recounts that in 1973 and contesting the
contemporary use of Rom 11:29, forty Jesuits working in Lebanon argued that this verse must
be read in light of the statements in Heb 8:7, 13, and 13:20.
7 Eugene J. Fisher, in an article on Nostra Aetate stressing the importance of this 1965 docu-
ment, states that “it is easily the most significant document concerning Jewish-Christian
relations in Church history since Paul in Romans 9–11,” “Nostra Aetate,” in A Dictionary of
Jewish-Christian Relations (ed. Edward Kessler and Neil Wenborn; Cambridge: Cambridge
out on them,’ says the Lord. . . . Note that when mention is made of ‘the new
constitution’ it makes the first constitution an old one. And anything that’s old
and worn out is headed for the garbage can.”8 The second example is drawn
from Earl S. Johnson Jr., who in his commentary on Hebrews opens his analysis
of Heb 8 by stating that it “serves as a kind of center point for the letter”9 and
concludes by pronouncing a surprisingly stern verdict on covenantal commit-
ment: “The old covenant that demanded absolute obedience to the Hebrew
law and required animal sacrifice is no longer operative. It is obsolete, it is
negans, nada, antiquated, out of date, old. God will make all things new (Isa
43:19; Rev 21:5). Do you not see it?”10
Particularly striking and revealing is that Johnson refers to the penulti-
mate chapter in the last book in the Bible, a chapter that palpably is discuss-
ing eschatological expectations. The comparison in the book of Revelation
is not between the old covenant and the new covenant or between the Old
Testament and the New Testament, and certainly not between Judaism and
Christianity;11 the author of Revelation is evidently comparing this world
and the world to come, which is described as “a new heaven and a new earth”
(Rev 21:1). In other words, although Johnson seems to think that he is describ-
ing the old covenant when using the words “obsolete, it is negans, nada, anti-
quated, out of date, old,” he is actually referring to this world in comparison
to the world to come; hence his almost verbatim quotation of Rev 21:5 when
he writes “God will make all things new.” We might think that texts and theo-
logians are talking about the old covenant, when in fact they are referring to
this world. And we might assume that we are talking about the new covenant,
when we are perhaps giving vent to our yearning for the world to come. We
will return to this observation. Suffice it for now to point out that the search for
veiled eschatological motifs in various interpretations of Hebrews is rewarding.
Jordan and Johnson provide but two examples from the long and influential
reception history of Heb 8:13, but no citations of this verse of Hebrews appear
in Nostra Aetate. The absence of Hebrews seems to favor John Pawlikowski’s
conclusion that “the Council Fathers [of Vatican II] judged these texts from
8 Clarence Jordan, Cotton Patch Gospel (Macon, Ga.: Smyth & Helwys, 2004), 14.
9 Earl S. Johnson Jr., Hebrews (Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2008), 38.
10 Johnson, Hebrews, 43. Is perhaps a disconcerting theological Schadenfreude discernible
here?
11 For illuminating perspectives on the expression “Satan’s Synagogue” in Revelation, see
David Frankfurter, “Jews or Not? Reconstructing the ‘Other’ in Rev 2:9 and 3:9,” HTR 94
(2001): 403–25.
320 Svartvik
Hebrews as a theologically inappropriate resource for thinking about the rela-

tionship between Christianity and Judaism today.”12
The Entstehungsgeschichte of Nostra Aetate
With its mere forty-one sentences, Nostra Aetate is by far the shortest of the
documents of the Second Vatican Council, but its coming into being was
the most tortuous process of all. The remarkable story of how Nostra Aetate
was drafted, accepted, and promulgated has been told many times.13 The fol-
lowing discussion will limit itself to aspects of that narrative that are most rel-
evant to the key issue in this chapter, that is, the reception history of Heb 8:13
and its implications for Jewish-Christian relations.
Many contributed to the creation of Nostra Aetate, but at the very center
we find three people: Jules Isaac, a Jew who lost his family in the Shoah but
having survived the war dedicated himself to combating what he termed
l’enseignement du mépris (the teaching of contempt); Augustin Bea, a Jesuit
and cardinal; and Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, Pope John XXIII.14
12 John T. Pawlikowski, “Reflections on Covenant and Mission Forty Years after Nostra
Aetate,” Crosscurrents 56, no. 4 (2007): 72.
13 See Augustin Bea, “The Church and the Non-Christian Religions,” The Month, January
1966, pp. 10–20; Guiseppe Alberigo, A Brief History of Vatican II (trans. Matthew Sherry;
Maryknoll, N. Y.: Orbis, 2006), 105–6; Thomas Stransky, “The Genesis of Nostra Aetate:
An Insider’s Story,” in Nostra Aetate: Origins, Promulgation, Impact on Jewish-Catholic
Relations (ed. Neville Lamdan and Alberto Melloni; Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2007), 29–53, and
Connelly, From Enemy to Brother, 239–72. See also the chapters in Alberic Stacpoole
(ed.), Vatican II by Those Who Were There (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1986) by Thomas
Stransky, “The Foundation of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity,” 62–87, and
by Johannes Willebrands, “Christians and Jews: A New Vision,” 220–36. For a day-by-day
account in Swedish of the Vatican Council, see Gunnel Vallquist, Dagbok från Rom: Andra
Vatikanconciliet—En kamp om förnyelse (Skellefteå: Artos, 1999), especially 450–523. See
also Edward Idris Cassidy, Ecumenism and Interreligious Dialogue: Unitatis Redintegratio,
Nostra Aetate (New York: Paulist Press, 2005), 126–28.
14 John Borelli, “Vatican II: Preparing the Catholic Church for Dialogue.” Origins: CNS
Documentary Service (August 2, 2012): 168. For the expression “teaching of contempt,” see
Jules Isaac, L’enseignement du mépris (Paris: Éditions Fasquelle, 1962). For the importance
of John M. Oesterreicher, one of the drafters of Nostra Aetate, who was a Jewish convert
from Moravia, see Connelly, From Enemy to Brother, esp. 94–238, 253–54. See also p. 5
(“Without converts the Catholic Church would not have found a new language to speak to
the Jews after the Holocaust”) and p. 287 (“Without converts to Catholicism, the Catholic
Church would never have ‘thought its way’ out of the challenges of racist anti-Judaism”).
Elected pope on October 28, 1958, John XXIII proclaimed on January

25, 1959, that there would be a Second Vatican Council. On June 5, 1960, he
announced, as a preparatory body for this council, the Secretariat for Christian
Unity (Secretariatus ad unitatem christianorum promovendam); Cardinal Bea
was elected as its first president.15 John Borelli argues that it was only after
Jules Isaac visited John XXIII on June 13, 1960, that the pope was convinced
Vatican II should address Catholic-Jewish relations.16 June 1960 was therefore
the decisive moment for a Catholic Decretum de Judaeis and also the turning
point for Christian theology in general, as, in due course, many other Christian
denominations would follow the example of the Roman Catholic Church and
issue statements on Jewish-Christian relations.
Why June 1960? Borelli points out that Jewish-Christian relations had been
addressed in a number of publications in the first fifteen years after the Shoah,
of which Anne Frank’s diary was the best known, but interest was greatly
intensified by the arrest and trial of Adolf Eichmann. On May 23, 1960, David
Ben-Gurion, prime minister of Israel, announced Eichmann’s arrest; the trial
commenced in April 1961 and lasted until August 1961.17 It was widely broad-
cast and Eichmann’s role and responsibility in the Shoah were vigorously
discussed, as was Hannah Arendt’s much-debated report on “the banality of
evil.”18 Hence, the earliest stages of process that would produce a document on
Catholic-Jewish relations coincided with Eichmann’s arrest and trial. Mikael
Tossavainen maintains that this trial changed Israeli society because the sto-
ries of the survivors of the Shoah were now made public to a greater extent.
Earlier, the focus had been on the heroes of the Warsaw Ghetto. After the
Eichmann trial the suffering of the survivors was taken notice of, listened to,
and recognized.19 Timing suggests that the preparations for Vatican II were
influenced by this new atmosphere.
15 See Stransky, “Foundation.” Connelly (From Enemy to Brother, 268) argues that Bea was
“an instrument of change and not a source of ideas.”
16 Borelli, “Vatican II,” 168. See also Marco Morselli, “Jules Isaac and the Origins of Nostra
Aetate,” in Nostra Aetate: Origins, Promulgation, Impact on Jewish-Catholic Relations
(ed. Neville Lamdan and Alberto Melloni; Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2007), 21–28.
17 Borelli, “Vatican II,” 168.
18 Hannah Arendt, Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (New York:
Penguin, 1963). For further comments on Arendt’s report, see Seyla Benhabib, “Arendt’s
Eichmann in Jerusalem,” in The Cambridge Companion to Hanna Arendt (ed. Dana Villa;
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 65–85.
19 See Mikael Tossavainen, “Heroes and Victims: The Holocaust in Israeli Historical
Consciousness” (Ph.D. diss., Lund University, 2006).
322 Svartvik
There were six major drafts of Nostra Aetate. Political corollaries were a sig-
nificant and recurring feature of the first five versions. In the Middle East all
politics are theological, and all theology is political. A purely religious text is an
impossibility, for there are always political implications. Arab countries, appre-
hensive about a statement that might recognize the State of Israel, exerted
great pressure,20 and as a result the document avoided using the word “Israel,”
although it would have been possible to use the word “Judaism.” Occurring in
the texts are the terms “Jews,” “Jewish, and “Jerusalem”—but not “Judaism.”
For political reasons, it was also necessary to water down references to
contemporary Judaism. When comparing the first three paragraphs, which
discuss Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam, with the fourth paragraph, on Juda-
ism, one easily detects a difference in perspective and emphasis. Whereas
the first three religious traditions are treated primarily as contemporary phe-
nomena, the paragraph on Judaism predominantly discusses events in the
past. Christians and Muslims are encouraged to forget wrongdoings in the past,
but Christians reading Nostra Aetate are informed that “the Jewish authorities
with their followers pressed for the death of Jesus.”21
Instead of “Israel” and “Judaism,” the expression “Abraham’s stock” (Latin:
stirps Abrahae) is used in the fourth paragraph, a phrase with a long history in
Christian texts. The expression huioi genous Abraam in Acts 13:26 was trans-
lated as “children of the stock of Abraham” in the King James Bible. In the
New Revised Standard Version the entire verse is translated, “My brothers, you
descendants of Abraham’s family, and others who fear God, to us the message of
this salvation has been sent” (emphasis added). John Connelly points out that
both Augustine and Thomas Aquinas use the word “stock” when referring to
Jews.22 This term unquestionably has its deficiencies, however, as Muslims also
see themselves as the stock of Abraham, albeit through his son Ismail.
20 See, e.g., Connelly, From Enemy to Brother, 249.

21 Cf. the concluding passage on Islam (“Quodsi in decursu saeculorum inter Christianos
et Muslimos non paucae dissensiones et inimicitiae exortae sint, Sacrosancta Synodus
omnes exhortatur, ut, praeterita obliviscentes, se ad comprehensionem mutuam sincere
exerceant et pro omnibus hominibus iustitiam socialem, bona moralia necnon pacem
et libertatem communiter tueantur et promoveant”) and the discussion on Judaism
(“Etsi auctoritates Iudaeorum cum suis asseclis mortem Christi urserunt . . ., tamen ea
quae in passione Eius perpetrata sunt nec omnibus indistincte Iudaeis tunc viventibus,
nec Iudaeis hodiernis imputari possunt”). The discussion of the deicide accusation was
watered down in the later versions.
22 John Connelly, March 25, 2011, comment on Joseph A. Komonchak, “If This Medi-
cine Doesn’t Work,” March 23, 2011, docCommonweal (blog). Commonweal. www
.commonwealmagazine.org/blog/?p=12620. In the same comment Connelly also writes,
“By the 1950s the word ‘Stamm’ had become popular to refer to the Jews’ special kind of
We have no indication that Heb 8.13 was ever at the center of the discussions
surrounding the drafting of Nostra Aetate. Borelli, who was extraordinarily
helpful when I drafted this chapter, wrote to me:
In none of the materials available, minutes, reports, drafts leading up to

Nostra Aetate, was there ever any mention of the Letter to the Hebrews,
especially as a passage that needed to be addressed or its interpretation
corrected. . . . I actually think what happened was more along the lines
of the development that John Connelly has outlined in his recent book,
From Enemy to Brother, that a growing number of theologians, though
always very small, began to see during the course of the war and after-
wards the grave effects of the church’s teaching and where it was wrong.23
As early as 1921, long before any discussion of Nostra Aetate, the eleventh chap-
ter in Romans was important to Augustin Bea.24 It was the foundation for his
theology of Judaism, and it became a cornerstone for the fourth paragraph of
Nostra Aetate as well.25 Nothing suggests that Hebrews ever had a role to play
in the preparation for Nostra Aetate. In a nutshell, Hebrews was seen as a stum-
bling block and not as a stepping stone for improved interreligious relations.
The Return of Hebrews in Contemporary Assessments of

Nostra Aetate
The polarization of biblical usage described above in light of the Romans ver-
sus Hebrews paradigm seems to be intensifying. For example, in a series of
group existence, and perhaps discussions among German-language theologians were at

the origin of this usage.” See also Connelly, From Enemy to Brother, 258–63.
23 John Borelli, e-mail message to author, September 24, 2012.
24 Augustin Bea, “Antisemitismus, Rassentheorie und Altes Testament,” Stimmen der Zeit 100
(1921): 171–83.
25 What was discussed, however, was how to interpret Romans. An interesting and illumi-
nating example can be found in the correspondence between Ernst Ludwig Ehrlich, who
was the European director of B’nai B’rith, and John M. Oesterreicher. Ehrlich pointed out
that the position on converting Jews that was included in earlier drafts of Nostra Aetate
simply was not supported by Romans. He wrote, “Please do yourself and me a favor, and
hurry to the Secretariat . . . and show the people that the text is simply wrong, and that
a well-founded New Testament reading must be found . . . otherwise they will be making
themselves laughing stocks before the entire world, that is, in front of everyone who can
read the New Testament,” John M. Oesterreicher, The New Encounter between Christians
and Jews (1986), 230, quoted in Connelly, “Catholic Church,” 106.
324 Svartvik
articles, Cardinal Avery Dulles argued in favor of a mission to the Jews—based

on Hebrews. The Sitz im Leben for these articles was the release on August 12,
2002, of the document entitled “Reflections on Covenant and Mission,” part
of on-going consultations involving the National Council of Synagogues in
the United States and the U. S. Catholic Bishops’ Committee on Ecumenical
and Interreligious Affairs.26 In his article “Covenant and Mission,” which also
appeared in 2002, Cardinal Dulles criticized “Reflections on Covenant and
Mission” for not forthrightly stating what he took to be “the Christian position
on the meaning of Christ for Judaism.” Dulles cited Heb 8:13 as one of his many
proof texts from Hebrews:
The most formal statement on the status of the Sinai covenant under
Christianity appears in the Letter to the Hebrews, which points out
that in view of the new covenant promised by God through the prophet
Jeremiah, the first covenant is “obsolete” and “ready to vanish away”
(Heb 8:13). The priesthood and the law have changed (Heb 7:12). Christ, we
are told, “abolishes the first [covenant] in order to establish the second”
(Heb 10:9).27
In another article on the same topic, published three years later, Dulles stated
that Vatican II “left open the question whether the Old Covenant remains in
force today.”28 Once again, his proof text was Hebrews:
26 Connelly (“Catholic Church,” 116–17) wrongly asserts that the study document was drafted
by three members of the Christian Scholars group on Christian-Jewish Relations: Mary C.
Boys, Philip A. Cunningham, and John T. Pawlikowski. Far from being a text written by three
individuals, albeit esteemed connoisseurs of Jewish-Christian relations, “Reflections on
Covenant and Mission” was a product of the Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious
Affairs. See, e.g., Philip A. Cunningham, “Celebrating Judaism as a ‘Sacrament of Every
Otherness,’ ” in The Theology of Cardinal Walter Kasper: Speaking Truth in Love (ed. Kristin
M. Colberg and Robert A. Krieg; Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 2014), 227–228, and
Philip A. Cunningham, “Building a New Relationship: A Catholic Perspective,” in Bridges:
Documents of the Christian-Jewish Dialogue. Building a New Relationship (1986–2013)
(ed. Franklin Sherman; New York: Paulist Press, 2014), 29–30.
27 Avery Dulles, “Covenant and Mission,” America 187, no. 12 (October 21, 2002): 9.
28 Avery Dulles, “The Covenant with Israel,” First Things 157 (November 2005): 16. In his
summary of this debate in the article “Jewish-Catholic Relations” in the Encyclopedia
of Catholicism, Frank K. Flinn refers to Dulles’s statement that “it is ‘an open question
whether the Old Covenant remains in force today.’ ” However, Dulles had actually stated
that Vatican II “left open the question whether the Old Covenant remains in force today,”
and that the terms old covenant, first covenant, etc. “leave open the question whether or
not the earlier covenant is still in force,” which is not entirely the same thing, apart from the
The Letter to the Hebrews contains in chapters seven to ten a lengthy

discussion of the two covenants based on the two priesthoods, that of
Levi and that of Christ, the Mediator of the New Covenant. The Old Law,
with its priesthood and Temple sacrifices, has been superseded and abol-
ished by the coming of the New. [. . .] The Letter to the Hebrews, which
is essentially a treatise on priesthood, teaches that with the cessation of
the Levitical priesthood and the Temple sacrifices, the Old Testament is
to that extent superseded.29
One is taken aback to read in Dulles’s description of his theological musings:

“Without any pretense of giving a final solution I shall try to indicate some ele-
ments of a tenable Catholic position.”30 It is baffling that he should have used
those two notorious words “final solution” when addressing the issue of Jews
and Judaism in a way that cannot be described as anything but disparaging of
Judaism.
In discussing contemporary Catholic-Jewish relations, Dulles uses the
terms “the Old Law,” “the Old Testament,” and “the first Covenant.” Are
these terms identical? What is the difference between “the Old Testament”
(a patently Christian term for the first part of the Christian Bible, texts that
have not lost their relevance for Christians) and “the first Covenant” (presum-
ably a reference to Jewish covenantal life)? While Dulles certainly was not
the first Christian to declare solemnly that “the New Covenant is not a simple
abolition of the Old, but rather its fulfillment,” we are left to wonder what he
meant. What is the difference between abolishing and fulfilling, especially in
an article in which the author uses words such as “superseded . . . abolished . . .
cessation”?31
fact that the quotation does not seem to be correct. In other words, to state that the Vatican
II left open a certain question is not to say that it is an open question. “Jewish-Catholic
Relations,” Modern World History Online, www.fofweb.com/activelink2.asp?ItemID=
WE53&iPin=ENC364&SingleRecord=True.
29 Dulles, “Covenant with Israel,” 18. Less baffling but still surprising is that he refers on p. 16
to Adam and Eve as “our first parents.”
30 Dulles, “Covenant with Israel,” 20.
31 Dulles, “Covenant with Israel,” 19. For further comments on fulfilling-as-abolishing, see
Jesper Svartvik, “What If There Is Life on Other Planets? Reflections on Kurt Cardinal
Koch’s Inaugural Lecture,” Studies in Christian-Jewish Relations 7, no. 1 (2012): 1–12, ejour
nals.bc.edu/ojs/index.php/scjr/article/view/2078/1772. Dulles’s triumphalist theology
marginalizes the eschaton (“The Covenant with Israel,” 20): “It could be asked whether
there are any promises to Israel that are not fulfilled in Christ and are waiting to be ful-
filled in some other way. Is Judaism still needed to point to these further possibilities?
326 Svartvik
Mary Boys, Philip Cunningham, and John Pawlikowski responded to Dulles’s

article “Covenant and Mission”. Noting they were “troubled by Cardinal
Dulles’s assertion that the Letter to the Hebrews offers ‘the most formal state-
ment of the status of the Sinai Covenant under Christianity,’ ” they argued that
“official Catholic teaching today has, in the Biblical Commission’s 1993 formu-
lation, ‘gone its own way’ and ‘set aside’ the opinion of the author of Hebrews
about Israel’s covenant.”32 In other words, they maintained that such an appeal
to Hebrews when discussing Jewish-Christian relations is not in accordance
with Catholic hermeneutics. In effect, they described Hebrews as a stumbling
block.
Not surprisingly, Boys, Cunningham, and Pawlikowski were not alone in
criticizing Dulles. When Luke Timothy Johnson accused Dulles of using bibli-
cal texts anachronistically, Dulles responded:
Picking up on one sentence in my article for America (“Covenant and

Mission”, October 21, 2002), Luke Timothy Johnson (“Christians & Jews”,
Commonweal, January 31, 2003) holds that I erred in characterizing the
Letter to the Hebrews as “the most formal statement on the status of
the Sinai Covenant under Christianity” in the New Testament. I stand by
my statement and challenge anyone to come up with a formal treatment.
In addition, Johnson accuses me of defending “supersessionism” and of
thinking Christians should “proselytize” Jews. Both accusation [sic] are
incorrect. Undoubtedly Christians have much to learn from Jews and will
profit immensely from the Jews’ adherence to Christ (Rom 11:12). This
gives us even greater motives for sharing with Jews the good news that
the Son of God came to be their savior as well as ours. We force nothing
on them, but invite them with patience and love to share our joy. I trust
that Commonweal readers will judge my position from my own writings
and not from reports such as Johnson’s.33
Paul replies: ‘All the promises of God find their Yes in Him’ (2 Corinthians 1:20). There is
nothing incomplete in Christ’s fulfilment of what is promised and foreshadowed in the
Old Testament.”
32 Mary C. Boys, Philip A. Cunningham, and John T. Pawlikowski, “Theology’s ‘Sacred
Obligation’: A Reply to Cardinal Avery Dulles on Evangelization,” America 187, no. 12
(October 21, 2002): 13.
33 Avery Dulles, “Status Clarification”, Commonweal 130, no. 4 (February 28, 2003): 2. See also
Luke Timothy Johnson, “Christians & Jews: Starting Over. Why the Real Dialogue Has Just
Begun,” Commonweal 130, no. 2 (January 31, 2003).
Luke Timothy Johnson replied:
I think it is good advice to read Cardinal Dulles’s original article. He

seems, however, to have missed the point I was trying to make. Yes,
Hebrews says what he reported it saying. But the language of “formal state-
ment” and “under Christianity” employed by Dulles is, I suggested, anach-
ronistic. Hebrews is not making a “formal statement” in the sense of a
Vatican declaration, but is making an argument from within a movement
that is not yet—at the time of its composition—fully distinct from
Judaism. I refrain from examining the implications of “under” in Dulles’s
phrase, “under Christianity.”
I will also not comment on Dulles’s odd interpretation of my point
that Christians have much to learn from Jews. Dulles says, “Undoubtedly
Christians have much to learn from Jews and will profit immensely from
the Jews’ adherence to Christ (Rom 11:12)”, but, like him, I stand by what I
have written.34
Here we encounter another phenomenon that repeatedly surfaces in the

debate. On the one hand, Christians are encouraged to “invite them [Jews]
with patience and love to share our [Christian] joy,” that is, “the good news
that the Son of God came to be their savior as well as ours”; on the other
hand, “Christians have much to learn from Jews.” If Judaism is inapt, the bib-
lical commandments have been superseded, and their covenant has been
surpassed, why would the encounter with Jews be so spiritually enriching for
Christians? Sadly, one is reminded of the wise words of Jennifer L. Koosed,
“when the old covenant is labelled ‘obsolete’ (8:13) it is only a small shift to
imagine the old covenant people as ‘obsolete’ as well.”35
In his articles Dulles referred to the late John Paul II. Unfortunately for
Dulles, however, the pope preferred to abide by the Pauline phrasing in Rom
9–11 and to describe the covenant with the Jewish people as a covenant that
had never been revoked. In Mainz, Germany, on November 17, 1980, John Paul II
stated: “The first aspect of this dialogue, namely the meeting between the
people of God of the old covenant, which has never been revoked by God, and
34 Luke Timothy Johnson, “The Author Replies”, Commonweal 130, no. 4 (February 28, 2003):
2, emphases added. See also his excursus “Old and New Covenants” in his work Hebrews:
A Commentary (NTL; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2006), 210–15.
35 Jennifer L. Koosed, “Double Bind: Sacrifice in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in A Shadow of
Glory: Reading the New Testament after the Holocaust (ed. Tod Linafelt; London: Routledge,
2002), 95–96.
328 Svartvik
the people of God of the new covenant, is at the same time a dialogue within
our church between the first and second part of its Bible.”36 On numerous
occasions John Paul II expressed what David Rosen has described as “the ongo-
ing vitality, validity and integrity of Judaism.”37 Dulles’s reading of Hebrews is
quite different from the theology we encounter in numerous speeches by John
Paul II. Supported neither by those who had been addressing the Christian-
Jewish interrelationship for several decades nor by his pope, Dulles’s best ally
and authority seemed to be Hebrews, read through the lens of 8.13.38
Hebrews: Is It Really the “Bad Text”?
We have seen that Hebrews is hardly ever referred to by those who want to
promote a genuine dialogue between Jews and Christians. In this chapter, how-
ever, I would like to challenge the predominant understanding that Hebrews
cannot serve as a facilitator for constructive conversations between Jews and
36 “Die erste Dimension dieses Dialogs, nämlich die Begegnung zwischen dem Gottesvolk des
von Gott nie gekündigten Alten Bundes und dem des Neuen Bundes, ist zugleich ein Dialog
innerhalb unserer Kirche, gleichsam zwischen dem ersten und zweiten Teil ihrer Bibel.”
Quoted in Sievers, “ ‘God’s Gifts and Call are Irrevocable’: The Interpretation of Rom 11:29
and Its Uses,” 349 (emphases added).
37 David Rosen, “The Legacy of John Paul II,” address given at Georgetown University,
Washington D. C., February 4, 2004, www.ajc.org/site/apps/nlnet/content3.aspx?c=ijITI2
PHKoG&b=6390861&ct=1084013.
38 Pope Benedict XVI, too, affirmed on several occasions the validity of the covenant with
the Jewish people, e.g., in his address at the Great Synagogue of Rome on January 17, 2010:
“the Decalogue—the ‘Ten Words’ or Ten Commandments [cf. Exod 20:1–17; Deut 5:1–2]—
which comes from the Torah of Moses, is a shining light for ethical principles, hope and
dialogue, a guiding star of faith and morals for the people of God, and it also enlightens
and guides the path of Christians” (emphasis added). Hence, the concept “the people of
God” here refers to Jews (for whom “the Torah of Moses” is “a guiding star”) and also in
his address to representatives of the German Jewish Community on September 22, 2011:
“When Jesus’ conflict with the Judaism of his time is superficially interpreted as a breach
with the Old Covenant, it tends to be reduced to the idea of a liberation that mistakenly
views the Torah merely as a slavish enactment of rituals and outward observances. Yet
in actual fact, the Sermon on the Mount does not abolish the Mosaic Law, but reveals
its hidden possibilities and allows more radical demands to emerge . . . The message of
hope contained in the books of the Hebrew Bible and the Christian Old Testament has
been appropriated and continued in different ways by Jews and Christians.” For these and
other significant texts, see www.ccjr.us/dialogika-resources/documents-and-statements/
roman-catholic/pope-benedict-xvi.
Christians on covenantal fidelity. Because Romans has been presented as the

solution to the plight of Jewish-Christian relations, the polyphony in Hebrews
has been silenced far too often. This chapter seeks to demonstrate that
Hebrews can also—or even instead—be understood as a stepping stone that
enables us to reach new insights and new levels of mutual respect. The Romans-
Hebrews dichotomy has prevented a renewed perspective on Hebrews much
like the renowned and recognized “new perspective” on Paul from flourish-
ing. There are evident similarities between the Romans versus Hebrews para-
digm, on one hand, and “the Jewish Jesus who remained within second temple
Judaism” versus “the Christian Paul who converted to or founded Christianity”
assumptions of twentieth-century scholarship, on the other.39 The new per-
spective on Pauline scholarship could thrive only when this false bipartition
was abandoned. In short, “good text–bad text” hermeneutics have prevented
the emergence of post-supersessionist readings of Hebrews.
The debate between, on the one hand, Dulles and, on the other hand, Boys,
Cunningham, and Pawlikowski on Heb 8:13, to which we referred above, is not
the only instance where Hebrews has played a predominant role in discus-
sions on how Christian theology is to be articulated. If we compare references
and quotations in the vigorous debates between those who sided with neo-
orthodoxy and those who preferred liberal theology, we see that reference to
Hebrews has been far more common amongst the neo-orthodox than amongst
liberal theologians. Gabriella Gelardini has pointed out that the emphases of
neo-orthodox theologians on transcendence and crisis inevitably decrease the
importance of the context, especially the Jewish context.40 Generally speak-
ing, those who have underlined the importance of Hebrews are also those who
emphasize the transcendence of God and the plight of humanity, and Hebrews
has been read by those who are not interested in issues such as interreligious
relations. In many circles, Hebrews is still understood and treated as the oldest
39 See, e.g., Daniel R. Langton, “Paul in Jewish Thought,” in Jewish Annotated New Testament
(ed. Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 585–
87, and also Langton’s monograph The Apostle Paul in the Jewish Imagination: A Study
in Modern Jewish-Christian Relations (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
On the issue of Paul both converting to and founding Christianity, see John G. Gager,
“Paul, the Apostle of Judaism,” in Jesus, Judaism, and Christian Anti-Judaism (ed. Paula
Fredriksen and Adele Reinhartz; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2002), 56, 64.
40 Gabriella Gelardini made this comment when chairing the Hebrews session at the
Society of Biblical Literature meeting in New Orleans in November 2009. For aspects on
neo-orthodoxy and liberal theology, see, e.g., Richard J. Plantinga, Thomas R. Thompson,
and Matthew D. Lundberg, An Introduction to Christian Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2010), 527–42.
330 Svartvik
systematic theological treatise—as the first church statement—rather than

as a text written within a specific historical context, that is, either immedi-
ately before or not long after the fall of the second temple.41 This approach,
I argue, has prevented us from reading Hebrews in a non-supersessionist
way. Nowadays many scholars are reinterpreting the Synoptic Gospels, the
Johannine writings, and the Pauline epistles, but much remains to be done in
scholarship on Hebrews.42
In a lecture entitled “Pope John Paul II on Christian-Jewish Relations:
His Legacy, Our Challenges,” Pawlikowski correctly states that the renewed
approach to the Hebrew Scriptures that we see in the speeches of John Paul
II and also in New Testament scholarship on the parting of the ways seems to
be ignored in the fields of systematic theology and liturgy. Pawlikowski argues
that the classical categories of Law-Gospel and also of promise-fulfillment
still dominate theology, lectionaries, and hymns, for example.43 “The actual
separation was a process involving several centuries during which Christian
ties to Judaism definitely remained in place. . . . Regrettably, I have not yet
seen any appropriation of this new biblical scholarship within Christian
theology.”44 If scholarship on the historical Jesus and Paul has not yet reached
41 The apocalyptic context of the text is noticed in, e.g., Robert P. Gordon’s commen-
tary, Hebrews (2nd ed.; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2008), 114: “The phrase to
palaioumenon (NRSV ‘what is obsolete’) could be translated ‘what is becoming obsolete’,
with perhaps a more self-conscious reference to impending events in Palestine.” See
also Morna D. Hooker, “Christ, the ‘End’ of the Cult,” in The Epistle to the Hebrews and
Christian Theology (ed. Richard Bauckham et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 207:
“If our author was writing after ad 70, then the catastrophic events in Jerusalem could
have provided the spark which led our author to think of Christ as replacing the cult.”
42 In her paper “Hebrews, Supersessionism and Jewish-Christian Relations” Pamela
Eisenbaum argues that there are four reasons for “traditional interpretive paradigms”
making Hebrews appear more supersessionist than it actually is: (a) the date (i.e.,
the historical context of the text has been ignored), (b) the failure to take account
of the numerous deficiencies in the labels “Jewish,” “Christian,” and “Jewish-Christian,”
(c) the failure to acknowledge the problems with “the metaphorical approach,” and
(d) the entire question of the development of post-biblical Judaism; “to the extent
that Hebrews is supersessionist, it is not a living form of Judaism it seeks to supersede.
[. . .] . . . Hebrews itself does not say that Christ supersedes the prescriptions of the Mishnah
or the Talmud.” Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature,
Philadelphia, November 2005, www.hebrews.unibas.ch/ documents/2005Eisenbaum.pdf.
43 John T. Pawlikowski, “Pope John Paul II on Christian-Jewish Relations: His Legacy, Our
Challenges” (Inaugural Annual John Paul II Lecture on Christian Jewish Relations;
Boston: Center for Christian-Jewish Learning, Boston College, 2012), 18–19.
44 Pawlikowski, “Pope John Paul II,” 19–20.
beyond New Testament lecture halls, how much less far has scholarship on
Hebrews traveled?
Two Trajectories in the Reception History of Hebrews
Hebrews, an incredibly rich and bewildering text described by Pamela

Eisenbaum as “almost certainly the most mysterious text to have been pre-
served in the NT canon” has had a most interesting Wirkungsgeschichte.45 This
discussion here focuses on two very distinct and different readings of Hebrews:
the polemical trajectory and the parenetical trajectory.
Polemics and the Supersessionist Paradigm

In his book entitled Die Mystik des Apostels Paulus, Albert Schweitzer uses
the expressions Hauptkrater and Nebenkrater when describing two motifs
in Pauline theology: Erlösungsmystik, which Schweitzer argues is the heart
and soul of Paul’s thinking, and justification.46 The term Hauptkrater can
also usefully be employed here in relation to the first trajectory, which was
sketched early in the history of Christianity and certainly continues to be
used today, fueled by the anonymous author’s interest in comparing shadow
and reality. The Greek word κρείττων (“better”) occurs nineteen times in toto
in the New Testament, and thirteen of these instances are found in Hebrews.
In other words, Hebrews uses the word κρείττων more often than all other
New Testament texts together, which leads to John Sawyer’s conclusion that
Hebrews “seeks to demonstrate the superiority of Christianity to all other vari-
eties of Judaism.”47
The inherent power of this interpretation and the damage this trajectory
has caused are well established, and so it suffices to quote just one text, taken
from Homilies on the Gospels by the Venerable Bede (672–735):
45 Pamela Eisenbaum, “Locating Hebrews within the Literary Landscape of Christian
Origins,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights (ed. Gabriella Gelardini; BINS
75; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 213.
46 Albert Schweitzer, Die Mystik des Apostels Paulus (Tübingen: Mohr, 1930). Schweitzer
argued that mysticism was the major thrust (hence, the Hauptkrater) in Pauline theol-
ogy, whereas the topic of righteousness by faith was simply a Nebenkrater, a subsidiary
crater next to the main crater. In short, he meant that mysticism is more important than
justification.
47 John F. A. Sawyer, “Hebrews, Letter to the,” in A Concise Dictionary of the Bible and Its
Reception (Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2009), 110.
332 Svartvik
For “what is becoming obsolete and growing old is ready to vanish away
[Heb 8:13].” And what does it mean that our Lord’s precursor came from a
father who was mute, a leader of the priests of that time? Is it not that, by
the time our Lord appeared, the tongue of the ancient priesthood had to
large extent become mute as regards the spiritual sense of the law’s teach-
ing, since the scribes and those learned in the law were only concerned
with teaching the keeping of the letter of the law? Moreover, in a number
of instances, they were even falsifying the letter of the law by substitut-
ing their own traditions, as is proven by our Lord’s having rebuked them
more than once in the Gospels. And what does it mean that he was born
to a barren mother? Is it not that the law, which was ordered to beget
spiritual issue for God with the help of the priestly office, led no one to
perfection, undoubtedly because it was unable to open up the gates of
the kingdom to its followers?48
With the belligerent metaphors employed here, we see how Heb 8:13 serves as
a launching pad for a teaching of contempt for priests, scribes, and the Torah.
We need not dwell on this interpretation of Hebrews, for it is well known, its
consequences are notorious, and it has shaped Christian teaching on Jews and
Judaism over two millennia. But what of an alternative?
The Second Trajectory: Parenesis and the Pilgrimage Motif

The second reading, quite different in tone and tenor, is not as well known, even
though its adherents are famous and distinguished. Both Thomas à Kempis
(c. 1380–1471), in Imitatio Christi, and John Bunyan (1628–1688), in Pilgrim’s
Progress, describe life as an earthly pilgrimage toward the City of God.49 Early
48 Beda Venerabilis, Homilies on the Gospels 2.20, quoted in Erik Heen and Philip D. W. Krey,
Hebrews (ACCS; Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 2005), 128. Other pertinent texts are
cited in that commentary, pp. 123–30.
49 The pilgrimage motif is discussed in Andrew Lincoln, Hebrews: A Guide (London: T&T
Clark, 2006), 107, where Lincoln writes, “The pilgrimage metaphor for Christian existence
also remains fruitful, as Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, with its dependence on Hebrews,
illustrates for previous generations,” and Koester, Hebrews, 29. Daniel J. Harrington (What
Are They Saying about Hebrews? [New York: Paulist Press, 2005], 86) sees the pilgrim-
age motif of Hebrews in Lumen Gentium. Novelist Shusako Endo’s book Silence can be
characterized as a lengthy interpretation of Heb 10:29. Further on Endo, see Emi Mase-
Hasegawa: “Spirit of Christ Inculturated: A Theological Theme Implicit in Shusaku Endo’s
Literary Works” (Ph.D. diss., Lund University, 2004). For exegetical surveys of the pilgrim-
age terminology in Hebrews, see, e.g., Jon Laansma, “I Will Give You Rest”: The “Rest” Motif
in the New Testament with Special Reference to Mt 11 and Heb 3–4 (WUNT 98; Tübingen:
instances of this reading of Hebrews can also be found in the Alexandrian

school of Clement and Origen.50 Although it has not been so prominent in his-
tory, we see it surfacing now and then. A telling example is found in Origen’s
On the First Principles:
The apostle says with reference to the law that they who have circumci-
sion in the flesh “serve as the copy and shadow of heavenly things. And in
another place, “is not our life on earth a shadow?” [Job 8:9] If then both
the law that is on the earth is a “shadow” and all our life that is on earth
is the same, and we live among nations under the “shadow of Christ”, we
must consider whether the truth of all these shadows will be learned in
that revelation when, no longer “through a mirror and darkly”, but “face
to face” [1 Cor 13:12] all the saints shall be counted worthy to behold the
glory of God and the causes and truth of things. And the pledge of this
truth being already received through the Holy Spirit, the apostle said,
“Even if we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth we
know him no more.”51
One element that makes this text so different from our previous examples is
the motif of inclusiveness. In On the First Principles Origen applies Job 8:9 not
to Israel as a theological rival—either antagonist or precursor—but to him-
self and his fellow Christians: “if . . . all our life that is on earth is the same.”
This interpretation is distinguished by being inclusive, parenetical, and future
oriented. The foci in this reading are Heb 11:13b (“they were strangers and for-
eigners on the earth”) and 13:14 (“For here we have no lasting city, but we are
looking for the city that is to come”): we are all pilgrims and strangers upon
earth. In the words of Marie E. Isaacs: “like the promised land (see 6:5; 12:22),
the new covenant remains part of our author’s vision of the future. However
imminent, that future has yet to be achieved. For the present it is experienced
by the believer as hope.”52
In 1937 Ernst Käsemann gave a sermon on Isa 26:13 (“O Lord our God, other
lords besides you have ruled over us, but we acknowledge your name alone”)
Mohr-Siebeck, 1997), and Judith Hoch Wray, Rest as a Theological Metaphor in the Epistle
to the Hebrews and the Gospel of Truth: Early Christian Homiletics of Rest (SBL Dissertation
Series 188; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998).
50 Koester (Hebrews, 20) describes the focus as “the believer’s pilgrimage to true knowledge.”
51 Origen, On the First Principles 2.6.7, quoted in Heen and Krey, Hebrews, 125.
52 Marie E. Isaacs, Reading Hebrews and James: A Literary and Theological Commentary
(Macon, Ga.: Smyth & Helwys, 2002), 109.
334 Svartvik
and was imprisoned by the Gestapo for insubordination.53 In his prison cell he
wrote the manuscript of his book The Wandering People of God: An Investigation
of the Letter to the Hebrews, in which he sought to expose the pilgrimage motif
in Hebrews: “the form of existence in time appropriate to the recipient of the rev-
elation can only be that of wandering.”54 Käsemann argued that this pilgrimage
motif was a product of Gnostic influence, although it seems far more plausible
that it was an expression of an eschatological frame of reference. Nevertheless,
his unveiling of the wandering people theme in Hebrews made a lasting con-
tribution to scholarship.55
In an illuminating article William Johnsson has argued that both the ter-
minology (“rest,” “alienation,” “homeland” etc.) and the structure of the epis-
tle support the thesis that there is a pilgrimage motif in Hebrews,56 which is
indeed most palpable in passages toward the end of the epistle, such as 11:16
(“But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. . . . God . . . has
prepared a city for them”) and 13:14 (“For here we have no lasting city, but we
are looking for the city that is to come.”) A holistic interpretation of Hebrews
must take this motif into consideration. Similarly, Richard Hays states that
Hebrews has “a remarkably open-ended eschatology.”57
The traditional and polemical reading of Hebrews tends to conceal this
important motif. In Heb 12:18–29, the author compares the Jewish master
story, that is, the revelation at Mount Sinai, to his readers’ coming “to Mount
53 The following paragraphs draw closely from my earlier publication, highly relevant
here, Jesper Svartvik, “Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews without Presupposing
Supersessionism,” in Christ Jesus and the Jewish People Today: New Explorations of
Theological Interrelationships (ed. Philip A. Cunningham et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2011), 77–91.
54 Ernst Käsemann, The Wandering People of God: An Investigation of the Letter to the Hebrews
(trans. Roy A. Harrisville and Irving L. Sandberg; Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984), 19 (italics
as in the original).
55 Richard B. Hays, “ ‘Here We Have No Lasting City’: New Covenantalism in Hebrews,” in The
Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology (ed. Richard Bauckham et al.; Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2009), 166.
56 William G. Johnsson, “The Pilgrimage Motif in the Book of Hebrews,” JBL 97 (1978):
239–51. In his Ph.D. dissertation (“The Muslim Pilgrimage: Journey to the Center,”
University of Chicago, 1967), using a phenomenological model, H. B. Partin seeks to iden-
tify the religious structure of pilgrimage and argues for four essential elements. Johnsson
presents these four criteria and seeks parallels in Hebrews, arguing that (a) the motif of
separation is strong in Hebrews, (b) there is certainly a motif of journeying to a sacred
place, (c) the fixed purpose of this journey is a dissatisfaction with what is “home” to
others, and (d) being on the way involves various kinds of hardship.
57 Hays, “ ‘Here We Have No Lasting City,’ ” 166.
Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem” (Heb 12:22).
We must recognize not only the difference (Sinai rather than Zion) but also
a similarity, in that the implicit readers of Hebrews are also standing at the
foot of a holy mountain. They are in front of Mount Zion, they are standing
before the gates of Jerusalem, but they have not yet entered the city. In other
words, the “not yet” element is manifest even in arguably the most “realized
eschatology” paragraph in the entire epistle, which suggests that the pilgrim-
age motif in Hebrews is even stronger than the realization of the promises.
“Not yet” is stronger than “already” throughout the epistle, as well as in these
passages.58 Nothing suggests that the readers of the epistle are any less a wan-
dering people than are the people of Israel. The pilgrimage motif is the very
basis for a typological reading. If the readers of Hebrews were no wanderers,
the type would not fit the antitype. When Hebrews is viewed in this light, its
profoundly eschatological framework can be discerned.
Hebrews is often quoted in two contexts: chs. 8 and 9 are referred to in
polemical milieux, first and foremost in various anti-Jewish diatribes; other
texts are cited in parenetical situations, for example 13:13–14: “Let us then go
to him outside the camp and bear the abuse he endured. For here we have no
lasting city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.” It is intriguing to
note that readers detect the eschatological perspective in the parenetical pas-
sages but tend not to see it in the polemical paragraphs. A holistic reading of
the epistle would suggest that the author is no less eschatological in chs. 8 and
9 than in ch. 13.
Mainstream interpretation of Hebrews says that all the prophecies in the
Hebrew Bible are fulfilled in and with Jesus of Nazareth. The words of
the prophet Isaiah about the suffering servant are fulfilled in Jesus; the words
of the prophet Jeremiah about a new covenant are fulfilled in Jesus; the
vision of the prophet Ezekiel about a time when human stone hearts will
be replaced is fulfilled in and with the Christian church. But have all stone
hearts disappeared? Is it true that Christians need not teach each other? Do all
Christians know the Lord—from the smallest to the greatest?
58 It has often been noted that there is a tension between “already now” and “not yet”
in Hebrews, with two of the most palpable examples in 4:9–11 and 12:18–24. Are the
addressees to look upon themselves as being on their way (“not yet”) or already at
the goal (“already”)? If they are already in the heavenly Jerusalem, why should they con-
tinue their pilgrimage? In addition, it is also intriguing that the author, who has argued
that the physical Mount Sinai is “so fearful” (οὕτω φοβερόν), goes on to talk about the
eschatological Mount Zion—the Heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God who, sur-
rounded by thousands of angels, will judge all—as if it would be less terrifying.
336 Svartvik
Once again, the intended readers of Hebrews are no less a wandering people
than the people of Israel. In the words of Hays: “A strong dialectical eschatol-
ogy tends to temper triumphalist supersessionism, for those who know that
they have no lasting city are likely to recognize that they themselves stand
under impending judgment. Perhaps they are also more likely to recognize
the provisional character of their own understanding and to acknowledge that
God’s ultimate redemptive grace may yet hold surprises.”59
Many interpreters read the New Testament through the lens of a limited
number of verses, which are understood to be programmatic. One of these
paradigmatic statements is Heb 8:13, which, according to most interpreters,
declares that with the advent of Christianity God has terminated the old cov-
enant with the Jewish people. The main purpose of this chapter is to demon-
strate that there are no grounds for such sweeping statements. Yet it is possible
that in this passage, the author of Hebrews compares and contrasts the earthly
world and heavenly reality, and to a middle Platonist such as the author of
Hebrews, heaven always trumps earth. Generally speaking, the metaphorical
discourse of Hebrews is directed toward the future, not the past. The compar-
ison is not between the new covenant, “Christianity,” and the old covenant,
“Judaism,” but rather between the future and the present, between heaven
and earth. These circumstances should be taken into consideration by those
who find arguments in Hebrews in favor of a supersessionist understanding of
Christianity. Replacement theology is far too blunt an instrument to do justice
to early Christian texts—and, to an ever higher degree, to the history and spiri-
tuality of the Jewish people in the past and up until modern times.
Conclusion: A New Vision for Christian-Jewish Relations
In an unsurpassed way, the fourth chapter in Nostra Aetate tackled the

sources of Christian teaching of contempt, the consequences of which had
afflicted the Jewish people in the Christian world. By voting in favor of Nostra
Aetate, the council fathers allowed themselves to be inspired by the covenantal
language of Rom 9–11 rather than by a notoriously polemical reading of Heb
8. Pawlikowski asserts that thereby they stated that “everything that had been
said about the Christian-Jewish relationship since Paul moved in a direction
they could no longer support.”60 Few would disagree with Pawlikowski: Nostra
Aetate is the result of a journey on a road less travelled in history. However, by
59 Hays, “ ‘Here We Have No Lasting City,’ ” 166–67.

60 Pawlikowski, “Reflections,” 71.
choosing to ignore the legacy of Heb 8, did the council members not only make
possible but also facilitate the wandering of those who prefer the road more
traveled in history, that is, those who programmatically question the validity
of the Jewish covenant?61
By saying nothing, the council fathers made it possible for others to keep on
saying something—and something that may well not have been in accord with
the council members’ intentions.62 Connelly correctly notes that the prehis-
tory of Nostra Aetate is a “lost story worth recovering, because the theologians
at Vatican II rehearsed many of the points that have been debated in recent
years.”63
In their 2002 article, Boys, Cunningham, and Pawlikowski stated that
“so much church teaching is rooted in a deficient and negative assessment
of Judaism that it will take many years to rethink Christian identity.”64 This
chapter demonstrates that part of this reassessment should involve rereading
Hebrews without presupposing supersessionism. Connelly has pointed out
that what is still lacking in Jewish-Christian relations is a new discourse, what
he calls “a new vision.”65 A non-polemical and parenetical reading of Hebrews
and its pilgrimage motif might foster such a new vision. Nothing suggests that
the readers of the epistle are any less a wandering people than the people of Israel.
An emphasis on our being “strangers and foreigners on the earth” would make
us more aware of and more willing to treasure the fact that as strangers and
foreigners we are also sisters and brothers. In the words of Ernst Käsemann,
“the form of existence in time appropriate to the recipient of the revelation can
only be that of wandering.”66
A benevolent and parenetical reading would contribute to a discourse
of respect and to the furtherance of the ongoing process of reconciliation
between Jews and Christians characterized by increased and enriching mutual
understanding.
61 Pawlikowski, “Reflections,” 94 n. 49.

62 Philip A. Cunningham, “Official Ecclesial Documents to Implement Vatican II on Relations
with Jews: Study Them, Become Immersed in Them, and Put Them into Practice,” Studies
in Christian-Jewish Relations 4 (2009): 1–36, ejournals.bc.edu/ojs/index.php/scjr/article/
view/1521/1374.
63 Connelly, “Catholic Church,” 97.
64 Boys, Cunningham, and Pawlikowski, “Theology’s ‘Sacred Obligation,’ ” 11.
65 Connelly, “Catholic Church,” 132.
66 Käsemann, Wandering People of God, 19. See also p. 240, n. 182, on the pilgrimage
motif in the Hebrew Bible: ‫אברם העברי‬, Ἀβρααμ ὁ περάτης (Gen 14:13) and ‫עברים עברו‬,
οἱ διαβαίνοντες διέβησαν (1 Sam 13:7).
338 Svartvik
Bibliography
Isaacs, Marie E. Reading Hebrews and James: A Literary and Theological Commentary.
Macon, Ga.: Smyth & Helwys, 2002.
Johnson, Earl S., Jr. Hebrews. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2008.
Sawyer, John F. A. “Hebrews, Letter to the.” Page 110 in A Concise Dictionary of the Bible
and Its Reception. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2009.
Other Literature
Alberigo, Guiseppe. A Brief History of Vatican II. Translated by Matthew Sherry.
Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 2006.
Arendt, Hannah. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. New York:
Penguin, 1963.
Bea, Augustin. “Antisemitismus, Rassentheorie und Altes Testament.” Stimmen der Zeit
100 (1921): 171–83.
———. “The Church and the Non-Christian Religions.” The Month (January 1966):
10–20.
Benedict XVI. Address at the Great Synagogue of Rome, January, 17, 2010. http://www
.ccjr.us/dialogika-resources/documents-and-statements/roman-catholic/
pope-benedict-xvi/660-b1610jan17.
———. Address to Representatives of the German Jewish Community, September 22,
2011. http://www.ccjr.us/dialogika-resources/documents-and-statements/roman-
catholic/pope-benedict-xvi/976-b162011sep22.
Benhabib, Seyla. “Arendt’s Eichmann in Jerusalem.” Pages 65–85 in The Cambridge Com-
panion to Hanna Arendt. Edited by Dana Villa. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2000.
Borelli, John. “Vatican II: Preparing the Catholic Church for Dialogue.” Origins: CNS
Documentary Service (August 2, 2012): 162–74.
Boys, Mary C., Philip A. Cunningham, and John T. Pawlikowski. “Theology’s ‘Sacred
Obligation’: A Reply to Cardinal Avery Dulles on Evangelization.” America 187, no. 12
(October 21, 2002): 11–16.
Carroll, James. Constantine’s Sword: The Church and the Jews; A History. Boston: Houton
Miflin, 2001.
Cassidy, Edward Idris. Ecumenism and Interreligious Dialogue: Unitatis Redintegratio,
Nostra Aetate. New York: Paulist Press, 2005.
Connelly, John. “The Catholic Church and Mission to the Jews.” Pages 96–133 in After
Vatican II: Trajectories and Hermeneutics. Edited by James L. Heft and John O’Malley.
Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012.
———. From Enemy to Brother: The Revolution in Catholic Teaching on the Jews, 1933–
1965. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2012.
———. March 25, 2011. Comment on Joseph A. Komonchak, “If This Medicine Doesn’t
Work,” March 23, 2011. docCommonweal (blog). Commonweal. www.commonweal-
magazine.org/blog/?p=12620.
Cunningham, Philip A. “Building a New Relationship: A Catholic Perspective.” Pages
15–38 in Bridges: Documents of the Christian-Jewish Dialogue. Building a New
Relationship (1986–2013). Edited by Franklin Sherman. New York: Paulist Press, 2014.
———. “Celebrating Judaism as a ‘Sacrament of Every Otherness.’ ” Pages 223–240 in
The Theology of Cardinal Walter Kasper: Speaking Truth in Love. Edited by Kristin M.
Colberg and Robert A. Krieg. Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 2014.
———. “Official Ecclesial Documents to Implement Vatican II on Relations with Jews:
Study Them, Become Immersed in Them, and Put Them into Practice.” Studies in
Christian-Jewish Relations 4 (2009): 1–36. ejournals.bc.edu/ojs/index.php/scjr/
article/view/1521/1374.
Dulles, Avery. “Covenant and Mission.” America 187, no. 12 (October 21, 2002): 8–11.
———. “The Covenant with Israel.” First Things 157 (November 2005): 16–21.
———. “Status Clarification”, Commonweal 130, no. 4 (February 28, 2003): 2.
Eisenbaum, Pamela. “Hebrews, Supersessionism and Jewish-Christian Relations.”
Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature, Phila-
delphia, November 2005. www.hebrews.unibas.ch/ documents/2005Eisenbaum
.pdf.
———. “Locating Hebrews within the Literary Landscape of Christian Origins.” Pages
213–37 in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New Insights. Edited by Gabriella
Fisher, Eugene J. “Nostra Aetate.” Pages 320–21 in A Dictionary of Jewish-Christian
Relations. Edited by Edward Kessler and Neil Wenborn. Cambridge: Cambridge
Flannery, Edward H. The Anguish of the Jews: Twenty-Three Centuries of Antisemitism.
Rev. ed. New York: Stimulus, 1995.
Flinn, Frank K. “Jewish-Catholic Relations.” Modern World History Online. www
.fofweb.com/activelink2.asp?ItemID=WE53&iPin=ENC364&SingleRecord=True.
Frankfurter, David. “Jews or Not? Reconstructing the ‘Other’ in Rev 2:9 and 3:9.” Harvard
Theological Review 94 (2001): 403–25.
Gager, John G. “Paul, the Apostle of Judaism.” Pages 56–76 in Jesus, Judaism, and
Christian Anti-Judaism. Edited by Paula Fredriksen and Adele Reinhartz. Louisville,
340 Svartvik
Gordon, Robert P. Hebrews. 2nd ed. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2008.
Harrington, Daniel J. What Are They Saying about Hebrews? New York: Paulist Press,
2005.
Hays, Richard B. “ ‘Here We Have No Lasting City’: New Covenantalism in Hebrews.”
Pages 151–73 in The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology. Edited by Richard
Bauckham, Daniel Driver, Trevor A. Hart, and Nathan MacDonald. Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2009.
Heen, Erik, and Philip D. W. Krey. Hebrews. Ancient Christian Commentary on
Scripture. Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity, 2005.
Heldt, Petra. “Protestant Perspectives after Forty Years: A Critical Assessment of Nostra
Aetate.” Pages 163–74 in Nostra Aetate: Origins, Promulgation, Impact on Jewish-
Catholic Relations. Edited by Neville Lamdan and Alberto Melloni. Berlin: LIT
Verlag, 2007.
Hoch Wray, Judith. Rest as a Theological Metaphor in the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the
Gospel of Truth: Early Christian Homiletics of Rest. Society of Biblical Literature
Dissertation Series 188. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998.
Hooker, Morna D. “Christ, the ‘End’ of the Cult.” Pages 189–212 in The Epistle to the
Hebrews and Christian Theology. Edited by Richard Bauckham, Daniel Driver, Trevor
A. Hart, and Nathan MacDonald. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009.
Isaac, Jules. L’enseignement du mépris. Paris: Éditions Fasquelle, 1962.
Johnson, Luke Timothy. “Christians & Jews: Starting Over: Why the Real Dialogue Has
Just Begun.” Commonweal 130, no. 2 (January 31, 2003): 15–19.
———. “The Author Replies.” Commonweal 130, no. 4 (February 28, 2003): 2.
Johnsson, William G. “The Pilgrimage Motif in the Book of Hebrews.” Journal of Biblical
Literature 97 (1978): 239–51.
Jordan, Clarence. Cotton Patch Gospel. Macon, Ga.: Smyth & Helwys, 2004.
Käsemann, Ernst. The Wandering People of God: An Investigation of the Letter to the
Hebrews. Translated by Roy A. Harrisville and Irving L. Sandberg. Minneapolis:
Augsburg, 1984. German original: Das wandernde Gottesvolk: Eine Untersuchung
zum Hebräerbrief. Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments 55 N. F. 37; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1939.
Koosed, Jennifer L. “Double Bind: Sacrifice in the Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages 89–101
in A Shadow of Glory: Reading the New Testament after the Holocaust. Edited by Tod
Linafelt. London: Routledge, 2002.
Laansma, Jon. “I Will Give You Rest”: The “Rest” Motif in the New Testament with Special
Reference to Mt 11 and Heb 3–4. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen
Langton, Daniel R. The Apostle Paul in the Jewish Imagination: A Study in Modern Jewish-
Christian Relations. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
———. “Paul in Jewish Thought.” Pages 585–87 in Jewish Annotated New Testament.
Edited by Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011.
Lincoln, Andrew. Hebrews: A Guide. London: T&T Clark, 2006.
Mase-Hasegawa, Emi. “Spirit of Christ Inculturated: A Theological Theme Implicit in
Shusaku Endo’s Literary Works.” Ph.D. diss., Lund University, 2004.
Michael, Robert. A History of Catholic Antisemitism: The Dark Side of the Church. New
York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008.
Morselli, Marco. “Jules Isaac and the Origins of Nostra Aetate.” Pages 21–28 in Nostra
Aetate: Origins, Promulgation, Impact on Jewish-Catholic Relations. Edited by Neville
Lamdan and Alberto Melloni. Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2007.
O’Shea, Paul. A Cross Too Heavy: Pope Pius XII and the Jews of Europe. New York: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2011.
Partin, H. B. “The Muslim Pilgrimage: Journey to the Center.” Ph.D. diss., University of
Chicago, 1967.
Pawlikowski, John T. “Pope John Paul II on Christian-Jewish Relations: His Legacy, Our
Challenges.” Inaugural Annual John Paul II Lecture on Christian Jewish Relations.
Boston: Center for Christian-Jewish Learning, Boston College, 2012.
———. “Reflections on Covenant and Mission Forty Years after Nostra Aetate.”
Crosscurrents 56, no. 4 (2007): 70–94.
———. “The Search for a New Paradigm for the Christian-Jewish Relationship:
A Response to Michael Signer.” Pages 25–48 in Reinterpreting Revelation and
Tradition: Jews and Christians in Conversation. Edited by John T. Pawlikowski
and Hayim Goren Perelmuter. Franklin, Wis.: Sheed & Ward, 2000.
Plantinga, Richard J., Thomas R. Thompson, and Matthew D. Lundberg. An Introduction
to Christian Theology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
Rosen, David. “The Legacy of John Paul II.” Address given at Georgetown University,
Washington D.C., February 4, 2004. www.ajc.org/site/apps/nlnet/content3.aspx?c=i
jITI2PHKoG&b=6390861&ct=1084013.
Schweitzer, Albert. Die Mystik des Apostels Paulus. Tübingen: Mohr, 1930.
Sievers, Joseph. “ ‘God’s Gifts and Call are Irrevocable’: The Interpretation of Rom 11:29
and Its Uses.” Pages 337–57 in SBLSeminar Papers, 1997. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997.
———. “ ‘God’s Gifts and Call are Irrevocable’: The Reception of Romans 11:29 through
the Centuries and Christian-Jewish Relations.” Pages 127–73 in Reading Israel in
Romans: Legitimacy and Plausibility of Divergent Interpretations. Edited by Cristina
Grenholm and Daniel Patte. Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2000.
Stransky, Thomas. “The Foundation of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity.”
Pages 62–87 in Vatican II by Those Who Were There. Edited by Alberic Stacpoole.
London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1986.
342 Svartvik
———. “The Genesis of Nostra Aetate: An Insider’s Story.” Pages 29–53 in Nostra Aetate:
Origins, Promulgation, Impact on Jewish-Catholic Relations. Edited by Neville
Lamdan and Alberto Melloni. Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2007.
Svartvik, Jesper. “Reading the Epistle to the Hebrews without Presupposing
Supersessionism.” Pages 77–91 in Christ Jesus and the Jewish People Today: New
Explorations of Theological Interrelationships. Edited by Philip A. Cunningham,
Joseph Sievers, Mary C. Boys, Hans Hermann Henrix, and Jesper Svartvik. Grand
———. “What If There Is Life on Other Planets? Reflections on Kurt Cardinal Koch’s
Inaugural Lecture.” Studies in Christian-Jewish Relations 7 (2012): 1–12. ejournals.bc.
edu/ojs/index.php/scjr/article/view/2078/1772.
Tossavainen, Mikael. “Heroes and Victims: The Holocaust in Israeli Historical
Consciousness.” Ph.D. diss., Lund University, 2006.
Vallquist, Gunnel. Dagbok från Rom: Andra Vatikankonciliet—En kamp om förnyelse.
Skellefteå: Artos, 1999.
Willebrands, Johannes. “Christians and Jews: A New Vision.” Pages 220–36 in Vatican II
by Those Who Were There. Edited by Alberic Stacpoole. London: Geoffrey Chapman,
1986.
Ritual and Religion, Sacrifice and Supersession:
A Utopian Reading of Hebrews*
Pamela Eisenbaum
Introduction
The so-called Epistle to the Hebrews is frequently deemed mysterious

because it betrays little of its context and seems so dissimilar to other New
Testament texts. Yet, compared to, say, Paul’s Letter to the Romans, Hebrews
possesses a kind of clarity. Its central argument is coherent and relatively
easy to follow: Hebrews portrays Christ as an utterly unique figure who has
supplanted the central institutions of ancient Judaism, most importantly the
temple cult, because he has once and for all achieved the ultimate purpose of
the cult, which is to purify the worshipers so as to bring them into the presence
of God. Although Hebrews must wrestle some paradoxes in order to construct
a coherent view of Christ—Christ is both divine and human, in heaven and on
earth, continuous and discontinuous with past tradition—it appears to flow
logically toward its inevitable conclusion, that Christ, having attained perfec-
tion, is the pinnacle of everything.1
Hebrews appears so transparent in meaning because it has functioned as
a looking glass for many modern Christian readers. The theology of Hebrews
seems to reflect key assumptions embedded in the Protestant worldview and,
consequently, in more generalized conceptions of religion among Western
scholars, assumptions that have to do with ritual and sacrifice. The central
message of Hebrews as traditionally interpreted is that Christ’s sacrifice has
achieved for all time the cleansing of sin and that he stands as an eternal high
priest in the presence of God. The ineffectiveness and emptiness of ritual sac-
rifice has been exposed and thereby rendered obsolete by the “Christ-event,”
that is to say, Jesus’s sacrificial offering of himself:
For Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands, a mere
copy of the true one, but he entered into heaven itself, now to appear
* An earlier version of this chapter was published as “Redescribing the Religion of Hebrews,” in
“The One Who Sows Bountifully”: Essays in Honor of Stanley K. Stowers (ed. Caroline Johnson
Hodge et al.; Providence, R. I.: Brown Judaic Studies, 2013), 283–93.
1 See Heb 2:10; 5:8–9; 7:28; 9:14; 10:14; 12:2.

344 Eisenbaum
in the presence of God on our behalf. Nor was it to offer himself again
and again, as the high priest enters the Holy Place year after year with
blood that is not his own; for then he would have had to suffer again and
again since the foundation of the world. But as it is, he has appeared
once for all at the end of the age to remove sin by the sacrifice of himself.
(Heb 9:24–26)
Whereas previously contact between humans and God was severely restricted
and institutionally controlled by an elite class of priests, the death and res-
urrection of Christ have now enabled eternal, unmediated access to God.
This newly acquired access has eliminated the need for priests, temple, and
sacrifices. All that is needed is faithful devotion toward Christ. From this per-
spective, Hebrews seemingly condemns cultic religion in favor of individual
obeisance. Salvation comes through Christ alone. One need not perform any
rites or appeal to the mediation of persons or institutions to achieve perfec-
tion with God. The sacrifice of Jesus is not merely a symbolic representation
pointing to a theological reality; it accomplished what other sacrifices only
aspired to.
Two related problems in this traditional reading of Hebrews merit atten-
tion. First, this reading reiterates the text of Hebrews as it stands, and thus does
not explain or redescribe Hebrews in such a way that invites understanding
in terms other than familiar Christian theological discourse. To give but one
example of a commentator “explaining” the argument of Hebrews: Richard
Nelson writes,
Hebrews criticizes the previous sacrificial system to highlight, by con-

trast, the effectiveness of a “better” sacrifice (9:23) that enacts a “better
covenant” (7:22) based on “better promises” (8:26) made by Christ as the
superior priest (7:11, 15, 26–27).2
To say that Hebrews condemns the sacrificial system prescribed by Leviticus

in order to contrast it with the superior sacrifice/covenant/promise of Christ
is not much more than a paraphrase of Hebrews itself. Paraphrase, however, is
not explanation.3
2 Richard Nelson, “ ‘He Offered Himself’: Sacrifice in Hebrews,” Interpretation 57 (2003): 251–65,
quotation from pp. 258–59.
3 See Smith, “Bible and Religion,” in Relating Religion: Essays in the Study of Religion (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 2004), 197–214, esp. 208–9. Smith calls paraphrase “weak
translation.”
A Utopian Reading Of Hebrews 345
The second problem concerns the issue of supersessionism. Hebrews is

frequently named as the most supersessionist text in the New Testament.4
If the message of Hebrews is that the new covenant of Christ has replaced
the old covenant, which is now “obsolete,” what else shall we call Hebrews but
supersessionist?5 Hebrews appears so supersessionist, however, partly because
of its perceived critique of ritual and sacrifice. Most theories of sacrifice adopt
an evolutionary perspective in which the practice of sacrifice reflects a primi-
tive stage of religion, while more “evolved” religions regard sacrifice as hav-
ing at best symbolic meaning and can therefore dispense with the making of
sacrifices.6
Discussions of sacrifice in the Bible frequently culminate with Hebrews,
for they hold Hebrews to be the best articulation of why the practice of sacri-
fice is fundamentally flawed: it never achieves what it is supposed to achieve.7
The point is not that Hebrews does not say this; the point is that scholars of
Hebrews believe Hebrews’ critique of sacrifice to be true. Consider the words
of Kenneth Schenck as he explains the logic of Christ as the ultimate, once-for-
all sacrifice in Hebrews:
Christ is able to defeat the power of the devil as a blameless sacrifice . . .

With the metaphor of Christ’s heavenly high priesthood, however, the
author can pit Christ against all the sacrifices of the old covenant. He
offers a definitive sacrifice of blameless spirit in contrast to the perpetual
earthly sacrifices of flesh. As such, his sacrifice is actually able to cleanse
the conscience and take away sins, unlike all the fleshly sacrifices of the
old covenant.8
4 For examples of the evaluation of Hebrews as supercessionist, see, in this volume, the
essay by Jesper Svartvik, “Stumbling Block or Stepping Stone? On the Reception History of
Hebrews 8:13.”
5 See Heb 8:13: “In speaking of a new covenant, he has made the first one obsolete.
And what is obsolete and growing old will soon disappear.”
6 See the helpful discussion by Jonathan Klawans, Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism
and Supersessionism in the Study of Ancient Judaism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006),
3–48. Within recent scholarship the most egregious use of the practice of blood sacrifice to
plot religions on an evolutionary scale is found in the work of Rene Girard, Violence and the
Sacred (trans. Patrick Gregory; Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1977), and Robert
G. Hamerton-Kelly, The Gospel and the Sacred: Poetics of Violence in Mark (Minneapolis: For-
tress, 1994) and Sacred Violence: Paul’s Hermeneutic of the Cross (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992).
7 Klawans, Purity, 8.
8 Kenneth Schenck, Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story behind the Sermon
(Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2003), 83–84.
346 Eisenbaum
Schenck is attempting to explain how Hebrews can claim that Christ’s sacrifice
accomplishes the removal of sin. Jesus’s sacrificial offering is to be taken not
literally but metaphorically, and by metaphorically Schenck means spiritually.
Christ’s sacrifice works because it occurs in the heavenly realm and is there-
fore not fleshly. Schenck has simply restated, however, the common Christian
view about the atoning work of Jesus’s death. He has not explained why for the
author of Hebrews a spiritual sacrifice is efficacious in a way a material sacri-
fice is not. Moreover, the argument that Hebrews’ use of sacrificial language is
metaphorical further betrays the assumption that Christianity, at heart, is not
a religion of sacrifice.9
Schenck’s comments help show how Hebrews can be read as reflecting a
“rational” understanding of sacrifice closely akin to the modern reader’s per-
spective, which is indebted to Protestant theology. On the evolutionary scale
in the history of religions, Hebrews represents a form of religion (Christianity)
more evolved than that which it seeks to replace (Judaism).
For scholars concerned with modern Jewish-Christian relations, the prob-
lem of supersessionism in Hebrews has generally been dealt with in one of two
ways. Some scholars regard Hebrews as the most supersessionist text in the
New Testament, far beyond anything found in the message of the gospels and
Paul. Other scholars defend the language of Hebrews as typical of internecine
polemic. Often these scholars place Hebrews inside the sphere of Judaism,
with the critique of the temple part of an intra-Jewish argument or a response
to the crisis of the temple’s destruction.10 The conversation about Hebrews,
9 See, for example, A. N. Chester, “Hebrews: The Final Sacrifice,” in Sacrifice and Redemption
(ed. S. W. Sykes; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 57–72. Cf. Guy G. Stroumsa,
The End of Sacrifice: Religious Transformations in Late Antiquity (trans. Susan Emanuel;
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009), where Strousma states, “While the rabbis
gathered at Yavneh in 70 succeeded in transforming Judaism . . . into a non-sacrificial
religion, Christianity defined itself precisely as a religion centered on sacrifice, even if it
was a reinterpreted sacrifice” (72). See also the critique of the metaphorical understand-
ing of Jesus’s sacrifice by Ekkehard W. Stegemann and Wolfgang Stegemann, “Does the
Cultic Language in Hebrews Represent Sacrificial Metaphors? Reflections on Some Basic
Problems,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Insights—New Methods (ed. Gabriella Gelardini;
BINS 75; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 13–23, and George Heyman, The Power of Sacrifice: Roman
and Christian Discourses in Conflict (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America
Press, 2007), 101–110.
10 Scholars who, while sensitive to the complexities of the historical context, nevertheless
view Hebrews’ language as more radical than simply intra-Jewish polemic include John
Gager, The Origins of Anti-Semitism: Attitudes toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian
Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford, 1983), 180–84; and Samuel Sandmel, Anti-Semitisim in the
then, revolves around the religion to which it should be assigned, Judaism or

Christianity. Those who wish to defend Hebrews make much of the absence of
the terms “Christianity” and “Christian.”11
Redescribing Hebrews
I propose that instead of seeing Hebrews as “Jewish” or “Christian” we uti-

lize categories that will enable us to redescribe the religious phenomena of
Hebrews in terms useful for analysis beyond a Christian theological context.
The categories I wish to employ come from the work of Jonathan Z. Smith,
who distinguishes between locative and utopian religions or religious symbol
systems.12 The locative vision of the world emphasizes place and what Smith
calls “emplacement”; the utopian vision of the world, by contrast, emphasizes
the “value of being in no place.” Smith believes the conceptualization of place
is foundational to any given tradition’s myths, rituals, and observances. He pro-
poses that “once an individual or culture has expressed its vision of its place,
a whole language of symbols and social structures will follow.”13 While there
may be an infinite number of cultural expressions concerning the role of place
generally and places in particular, Smith’s dichotomous categorization of the
“locative” and “utopian” is his way of saying that, generally speaking, religious
New Testament? (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978) 120–21. I myelf have argued both positions:
in The Jewish Heroes of Christian History (Atlanta: Scholars, 1997), I argued that Hebrews
was uniquely supersessionist in the New Testament, while more recently I have argued
that a post-70 CE dating of Hebrews opens up the possibility that Hebrews was simply
theologizing-by-necessity, making it no more supersessionist than the Mishnah. The lat-
ter position can be found in “Locating Hebrews within the Literary Landscape of Christian
Origins,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Insights—New Methods (ed. Gabriella Gellardini;
BINS 75; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 213–37.
11 See Marie E. Isaacs, Sacred Space: An Approach to the Theology of the Epistle to the Hebrews
(JSNTSup 73; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1996), and Clark M. Williamson, “Anti-Judaism in
Hebrews?,” Interpretation 57 (2003): 266–79.
12 The locative/utopian taxonomy turns up in many of Smith’s works and extends over
much of his career. See Jonathan Z. Smith, Map is Not Territory: Studies in the History of
Religions (SJLA; Leiden: Brill, 1978); “Towards Interpreting Demonic Powers in Hellenistic
and Roman Antiquity,” ANRW 16.1:425–29; Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early
Christianities and the Religions of Late Antiquity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1990); “Here, There, and Anywhere,” in Relating Religion: Essays in the Study of Religion
(Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2004), 323–39.
13 Smith, Map is Not Territory, 141.
348 Eisenbaum
and cultural traditions lean in one direction or another when it comes to con-
ceptualizing place.
The locative is characterized by a sense of a well-ordered universe, one that
has a center, often viewed as the originary point of that universe, around which
everything else is ordered. Within this worldview, religious practice revolves
around maintaining this order. Everything has its place, and wisdom is in
knowing one’s place within the cosmos. Smith gives India as an example of a
culture with a locative orientation because it has a perduring system of caste.
Ancient Israel provides another example, as do virtually all other Ancient
Near Eastern societies. Smith argues that an emphasis on holiness indicates
a locative orientation and cites Mary Douglas, who stated, “Holiness requires
that individuals shall conform to the class to which they belong. And holiness
requires that different classes of things shall not be confused.”14 Holiness is
regulated and maintained by the rules of purity. The Levitical laws provide an
excellent illustration of a locative symbol system as defined by Smith. The cen-
ter of Israel lies in the Jerusalem temple, where God is accessible. Even during
those periods when no temple existed, ancient Israel still possessed a center,
as indicated by the tabernacle texts of Exodus and the vision of the temple in
Ezekiel. In other words, the cult itself, whether it was being enacted or merely
imagined or written about, worked to maintain the cosmic center of Israel and
thus to keep Israel’s identity intact.
Locative traditions depend on chaos as the complement to order. The forces
of chaos are always a potential threat. The order of things is perceived to be
fragile and therefore care must be taken to preserve it. Cosmic order is main-
tained by constant vigilance through highly regulated behavior—everything
and everyone must be in place. The social structures and rituals that maintain
order are therefore perceived as meaningful and comforting, and the ritual
maintenance of order is soteriological.
In contrast to the preoccupation with order, place, and purity that charac-
terizes the locative sensibility, a utopian orientation experiences that world as
disordered, burdensome, or constraining. Utopian traditions do not engage in
practices designed to maintain the order and sanctity of the world but rather
seek salvation from it. The very forces of cosmic order seen as comforting in
the locative understanding are seen in the utopian understanding as oppres-
sive and restricting and as obstacles to well-being. The goal is transcendence
from the everyday world. There is no center holding the world together; value
is instead placed on the periphery, the margins, the places to which one can
14 Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger (1966), 53, cited in Smith, Map is Not Territory, 137.
Elsewhere Smith (Drudgery Divine, 121) says that locative traditions are typically “religions
of sanctification.”
escape. The emphasis, then, is not on knowing and maintaining one’s place
in the world, but on freedom from the world, and, in some cases, rebellion
against it.
Most forms of Gnosticism are utopian, but one of the best examples of
the utopian orientation to the world is provided by modern Western culture.
Whatever the restrictions of race, gender, and class on our lives, conceptually
speaking, we have the freedom to choose whatever “place” we like. Our position
in society is not the result of a pre-assigned, God-given order. As participants in
this society, we are not compelled to operate within a carefully prescribed set
of rules but rather called upon “to challenge [our] limits, break them, or create
new possibilities.”15
Certain kinds of myth are typical of each topological orientation. For exam-
ple, Smith classifies Gilgamesh as locative. Not content with his lot in life,
Gilgamesh goes on a quest (away from the center, toward a periphery) to attain
immortality. The Sumerian king does not realize his goal; instead he comes to
recognize the inevitability of his mortal condition, his humanity. The story is
resolved through his acceptance of his mortality and his place in the world.
Gilgamesh is a failed hero, and the story of the failed hero is characteristic of
locative traditions. Gilgamesh is a model human being not because he tran-
scends his place in the world but because he accepts it. In a locative tradition,
the worlds of the living and the dead are kept separate and distinct, or, as Smith
says, “what is soteriological is for the dead to remain dead.”16 (Relationship
between the worlds is possible, through, for example, memorialization, ances-
tor worship, or a cult of the dead—all practices that Smith associates with the
locative.) Conversely, the successful hero story is typical of utopian traditions.
The utopian hero is a savior who through his or her transformation leads others
to transformation. Jesus as he came to be understood in orthodox Christianity
is the obvious example.17
Some of Smith’s best-known work involves the study of ritual and its
relationship to place, so it comes as no surprise that he discusses the diver-
gent functions of ritual in these two religious modalities.18 Overall, locative
traditions place more emphasis on ritual than do utopian traditions—which
15 Smith, Map is Not Territory, 101.

16 Smith, Drudgery Divine, 124, see also p. 132.
17 Although, as Smith argues in Drudgery Divine, 121–33, early Jesus traditions of Syria and
Palestine reflect a more locative orientation, memorializing Jesus, perhaps in ritual meals
at the tomb, they would not have understood his death as itself transformative.
18 For a concise articulation of the connection between ritual and place, see Jonathan Z.
Smith, To Take Place: Toward a Theory of Ritual (CSHJ; Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1987), 103–4.
350 Eisenbaum
is not to say utopian traditions do not have ritual; they do, but the rituals are
of a different kind. While locative rituals effect purity and purgation, restoring
the world to its proper ordering, utopian rituals emphasize initiation, conver-
sion, and transformation. Smith also notes that ritual efficacy in the utopian
world tends to be either extended or, alternatively, reduced to a “ ‘once for all’
permanent action.”19
Significant for consideration of Hebrews is that Smith proposes that late
antiquity was a time of transition, a transition that is evident not only with
Christianity, but also in various other formations of religion. The “straining
of locative traditions in a utopian direction” that he identifies can be seen in
some New Testament literature.20 Indeed, tensions between these two forms
of religious expression may partly explain the conflict between Paul and the
Corinthians.21
In a similar vein, Guy Stroumsa has recently argued that the cessation of
animal sacrifice in late antiquity—a long process, to be sure, and not a singu-
lar moment—represents an enormous transformation of the very nature of
religion.22 Given its focus on sacrifice, Hebrews may serve as a good “place” to
study this transformation.
Smith emphasizes that the locative and utopian orientations are not to be
understood in evolutionary terms. The locative is not to be equated with the
primitive and the utopian with civilized religion, or, worse yet, the locative
with Judaism and the utopian with Christianity. The same cultures or religions
may be oriented toward the locative or the utopian depending on a wide vari-
ety of situational factors. The utopian and locative topologies are not found in
pure form—elements of both the utopian and the locative are present at the
same time. They form a continuum, though one typically dominates, for one is
likely better equipped to cope with a given set of circumstances. Social change
is effected by transitioning from one topology to the other.
Utopian Typology in Hebrews
Although there is not space to provide a detailed analysis of Hebrews with

respect to Smith’s locative/utopian taxonomy, Hebrews displays many typical
19 Smith, Drudgery Divine, 133.

20 Smith, Drudgery Divine, 134.
21 Stanley K. Stowers, “Kinds of Myth, Meals, and Power: Paul and the Corinthians,” in
Redescribing Paul and the Corinthians (ed. Ron Cameron and Merrill P. Miller; Atlanta:
SBL, 2011), 142–49.
22 Stroumsa, End of Sacrifice, 56–83.
characteristics of the utopian. I will briefly highlight five elements in Hebrews

that reflect a utopian topology and then offer some brief synthetic comments.
First, Jesus is a successful hero, and because of what he has accomplished,
he leads others into salvation. Salvation in Hebrews is not in finding one’s
proper place in this world, as was the case for Gilgamesh; salvation in Hebrews
means the destruction of this world by divine agency and that a new world,
immaterial and eternal, is put in its place.
Second, Jesus is an utterly unique being and therefore cannot be categorized
as human, angelic, or divine. The opening chapters of Hebrews constitute a
proof for his uniqueness. He is explicitly compared to angels to show that he
is not like them (1:5–14), and a subsequent comparison with Moses also dem-
onstrates his difference (3:1–6). He possesses both human and divine qualities
but is identical to neither the human nor the divine (2:10–18). That he is both
the priest and the sacrifice is a point made early on (2:17–18) but also critical
to the central section of Hebrews (chs. 8–10). He has experienced mortality
and immortality, suffering and exaltation, and his experience is a model for
the experience of his followers (5:7–10). Thus, ordinary boundaries between
categories of people and things are not operative. In other words, Jesus is an
anomaly, and anomalies often have a destabilizing effect on the taxonomic sys-
tems that sustain order.23
Third, the only sacrifice that now matters is Jesus’s one-time sacrifice.
The once-and-forever status of Jesus’s sacrifice is explicitly contrasted with
the regular and repeated sacrifices of the tabernacle cult. It is the repetition
of the Levitical offerings—their very ritual nature—that is problematic in
Hebrews, for they do not effect transformation but instead maintain the sta-
tus quo. Commentators on Hebrews have remarked on the lack of reference
to the Lord’s Supper, and some have argued that Hebrews is opposed to its
observance or even that Hebrews is anti-cultic in general.24 The absence of the
ritual’s mention cannot be used to tell us anything specific about its practice
for the writers and readers of Hebrews, but it is striking that the author fails
23 Bruce Lincoln, Discourse and the Construction of Society: Comparative Studies of Myth,
Ritual, and Classification (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), 160–70.
24 Commentators find its absence surprising because of Hebrews’ focus on Jesus’s priestly
lineage as rooted in Melchizedek (7:1–3), who famously made an offering of bread and
wine in Gen 14, and the frequent mention of the redeeming power of Jesus’s blood (9:11–
13:22; 10:19; 13:12). These would seem occasions to invoke this important early Christian
ritual. See the discussion in Erich Gräßer, An die Hebräer (3 vols.; EKKNT 17; Zurich:
Benzinger and Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–97), 3:379–83; Craig R.
Koester, Hebrews: A New Translation and Commentary (AB 36; New York: Doubleday, 2001),
127–29. Hebrews becomes central to the liturgical transformation of the memorial meal
of the Lord’s Supper into the sacrificial meal of the Eucharist.
352 Eisenbaum
to make any connection between his argument and the community’s ritual
practices.
Fourth, the status quo is perceived as meaningless. The order that the
Levitical system of sacrifice worked to maintain and protect from the forces
of chaos does not provide a sense of comfort and stability but rather gener-
ates anxiety, for it “cannot perfect the conscience of the worshipper” (9:9).
Salvation comes from transcending the existing order.
Fifth, and finally, there is no center in Hebrews’ cosmos. The universe has
been completely decentralized. This world is not an orderly place, or at least
the order that characterizes it is not a source of comfort and confidence; it is
a source of oppression. Hebrews 2:8–9 says, “As it is, we do not yet see every-
thing in subjection to him, but we do see Jesus.” Hebrews does not say to whom
everything is currently subjected, but the implication is that the world is out-
side the authority of God. Hebrews eagerly anticipates another world, the
world to come, a world that transcends the institutions of this world. “Here we
have no lasting city, but we are looking for the city that is to come” (13:14), a city
“whose architect and builder is God” (11:10), a place where there is no labor, a
place of eternal rest (4:10).25
Hebrews speaks not of the Jerusalem temple but of the wilderness taber-
nacle. The author does not use the tabernacle, which was mobile, as a critique
of the temple as a permanent residence for God, as is the case, for example,
in Acts 7. Rather, he has collapsed the tabernacle and temple into one. The
distinction between them does not matter. They both represent the earthly
sanctuary, which is just a simulation of the space God inhabits. In this simula-
tion, ritual activity was carried out, but it did not produce its intended effects.
The hieratic ritual system did not work. The endlessly repeated sacrifices are
proof that no one was cleansed, no sins were atoned, no one was perfected,
and perhaps most importantly, they did not enable access to God, but rather
restricted it. The ritual system aspired to purity and moral perfection, but it did
not achieve these things. The architecture of the tabernacle, with its sanctuary
25 See also Heb 12:26–28, where the author interprets Hag 2:6, “Once again, in a little while,
I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land.” The author takes “once
again . . . I will shake” to mean the permanent removal of all “created things,” that is to say,
the end of the world as we know it. Schenck makes an insightful comparison between
Hebrews and Paul regarding eschatological expectations: Whereas Paul envisions escha-
tological salvation as the liberation of the created order from the (evil) principalities and
powers to which it is currently enslaved, Hebrews envisions salvation as liberation from
creation itself. See Kenneth Schenck, Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Settings
of the Sacrifice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 127.
inside the sanctuary, symbolized the inaccessibility of God and the ineffective-
ness of the ritual: “the way into the sanctuary has not yet been disclosed as long
as the first tent is still standing. This is a symbol of the present time, during
which gifts and sacrifices are offered that cannot perfect the conscience of the
worshipper” (9:8–9).
If a priest serving in the Jerusalem temple had been asked if the sacrifices
he performed “worked” in the sense meant in Hebrews, by permanently trans-
forming an individual, or for that matter a community, into a sinless, perfect
being, I suspect he would have said no. Such perfection indeed would render
ritual observance unnecessary, perhaps even obsolete. Nevertheless, the prac-
titioners of sacrifice in the Levitical cult were no doubt confident in the effi-
cacy of the rituals they performed. The point of the cult was to render sacred,
or clean, that which was not clean. Its practitioners took for granted the human
condition, with all its missteps, failed endeavors, bad choices, and immoral
behavior, but they performed rituals regularly to ensure that these inevitable
forces of chaos did not overcome the social order.26
Scholars of Hebrews discuss at length the role of Platonic cosmology and
epistemology informing Hebrews’ conception of space, and the heavenly
sanctuary described in chs. 8–10 in particular. A Middle Platonic worldview is
undoubtedly present in Hebrews, but this observation has always seemed to
me obvious and lacking in explanatory power. More significant is that the uni-
verse has become completely decentralized. Theoretically, God is now acces-
sible everywhere. At the same time, God is nowhere. Hebrews speaks of access,
but the divine is in retreat. Jesus has left the earth and resides elsewhere.
Perhaps in the past the material world was a reflection of or a container for
divine reality, but since the material world is now passing away, divinity must
relocate. Where, then, do the followers of Jesus go to encounter the divine
presence? They must travel to the periphery, hence the exhortation in the final
chapter, “let us go to him outside the camp . . . for here we have no lasting city”
(13:13–14).27
26 For discussion of the way in which the description of the tabernacle in Exodus and the
rituals associated with it are designed to maintain social and cosmological order, see
Mark K. George, Israel’s Tabernacle as Social Space (Ancient Israel and Its Literature 2;
Atlanta: SBL, 2009).
27 As has been widely observed, the language of being “outside the camp” is cultic language
drawn from Leviticus; indeed Heb 13:9–16 is a cultic discourse that includes the polemi-
cal statement, “We have an altar from which those who serve in the tent do not have
authority to eat.” While Helmut Koester (“ ‘Outside the Camp’: Hebrews 13.9–14,” HTR 55
[1962], 299–315) has argued that this statement reflects an anti-cultic polemic, it may be,
rather, that cultic practice for Hebrews has been removed from the center and placed
354 Eisenbaum
Moreover, Hebrews has remapped a spatially organized cultic system onto

a temporal cultic system, with an emphasis on contrasting old and new, then
and now. The spatial dimension, while still important, has become subordi-
nate to the temporal, and, in any case, the sense of place has become of no
consequence for the vision of Hebrews. The author reads the Levitical cult as
a map for an alternate reality, but that map functions like a church bulletin, a
guide to the order of things in time laid out spatially, on a piece of paper.
Conclusion
In sum, Hebrews represents a utopian orientation toward religion rather than

a locative orientation. Given that modern Western society also possesses a uto-
pian perspective, to modern scholars, Hebrews ostensibly represents a more
“rational” form of religion than that represented by cultic Judaism because of
its critique of sacrifice. Sacrifice is just symbolic of something else, so it seems
natural to abandon the practice of sacrifice in favor of what it represents. But
the locative and utopian orientations to the world are merely alternatives;
one is not better or more rational than the other. They are both strategies of
conceptualization designed to enable people to cope with reality. They both
acknowledge the dissonance between the world as it should be and the world
as it is. One orientation tries to manipulate the world in pursuit of its ideal, the
other to break outside of the world.
That Hebrews makes negative remarks about cultic Judaism and claims to
offer something better in Jesus cannot be denied, but modern readers can dis-
tance themselves from the text and its language of supersession. If we translate
what is going in Hebrews into scholarly categories that transcend Jewish and
Christian theology, we can describe the vision of Hebrews in other terms, terms
that allow us to see more clearly and to refrain from adopting negative apprais-
als of cultic practice, and by extension Judaism, as if they were somehow obvi-
ous or natural.
on the periphery. See also Benjamin Dunning, “The Intersection of Alien Status and
Cultic Discourse in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Insights—New
Methods (ed. Gabriella Gellardini; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 177–98.
Bibliography
Testament 17. Zurich: Benzinger and Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag,
1990–97.
Koester, Craig R. Hebrews: A New Translation and Commentary. Anchor Bible 36. New
York: Doubleday, 2001.
Other Literature
Chester, A. N. “Hebrews: The Final Sacrifice.” Pages 57–72 in Sacrifice and Redemption.
Edited by S. W. Sykes. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991.
Dunning, Benjamin. “The Intersection of Alien Status and Cultic Discourse in the
Epistle to the Hebrews.” Pages 177–98 in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods—New
Insights. Edited by Gabriella Gellardini. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
Eisenbaum, Pamela. “Locating Hebrews within the Literary Landscape of Christian
Origins.” Pages 213–37 in Hebrews: Contemporary Insights—New Methods. Edited by
Gabriella Gellardini. Biblical Interpretation Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
———. The Jewish Heroes of Christian History: Hebrews 11 in Literary Context (Atlanta:
Scholars, 1997).
Gager, John. The Origins of Anti-Semitism: Attitudes toward Judaism in Pagan and
Christian Antiquity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983.
Girard, Rene. Violence and the Sacred. Translated by Patrick Gregory. Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press, 1977.
George, Mark K. Israel’s Tabernacle as Social Space. Ancient Israel and Its Literature 2.
Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2009.
Hamerton-Kelly, Robert. The Gospel and the Sacred: Poetics of Violence in Mark.
———. Sacred Violence: Paul’s Hermeneutic of the Cross. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992.
Heyman, George. The Power of Sacrifice: Roman and Christian Discourses in Conflict.
Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2007.
Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series 73. Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1996.
Klawans, Jonathan. Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in
Koester, Helmut. “ ‘Outside the Camp’: Hebrews 13.9–14.” Harvard Theological Review 55
(1963): 299–315.
Lincoln, Bruce. Discourse and the Construction of Soceity: Comparative Studies of Myth,
Ritual, and Classification. New York: Oxford University Press, 1989.
356 Eisenbaum
Nelson, Richard D. “ ‘He Offered Himself’ Sacrifice in Hebrews.” Interpretation 57 (2003):

251–65.
Sandmel, Samuel. Anti-Semitism in the New Testament? Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978.
Schenck, Kenneth. Cosmology and Eschatology in Hebrews: The Settings of the Sacrifice.
———. Understanding the Book of Hebrews: The Story behind the Sermon. Louisville,
Smith, Jonathan Z. “Bible and Religion.” Pages 197–214 in Relating Religion: Essays in the
Study of Religion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004.
———. Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the Religions of
Late Antiquity. Jordan Lectures in Comparative Religion 14. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1990.
———. “Here, There, and Anywhere.” Pages 323–39 in Relating Religion: Essays in the
Study of Religion. Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2004.
———. Map Is Not Territory: Studies in the History of Religions. Studies in Judaism in
Late Antiquity. Leiden: Brill, 1978.
———. To Take Place: Toward Theory in Ritual. Chicago Studies in the History of
Judaism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987.
———. “Towards Interpreting Demonic Powers in Hellenistic and Roman Antiquity.”
ANRW 16.1:425–29, Part 2, Principat, 16.1. Edited by Wolfgang Haase. New York: de
Gruyter, 1978.
Stegemann, Ekkehard W., and Wolfgang Stegemann. “Does the Cultic Language in
Hebrews Represent Sacrificial Metaphors? Reflections on Some Basic Problems.”
Pages 13–23 in Hebrews: Contemporary Insights—New Methods. Edited by Gabriella
Gelardini. Biblical Interpretations Series 75. Leiden: Brill, 2005.
Stowers, Stanley K. “Kinds of Myth, Meals, and Power: Paul and the Corinthians.” Pages
105–50 in Redescribing Paul and the Corinthians. Edited by Ron Cameron and Merrill
P. Miller. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2011.
Stroumsa, Guy G. The End of Sacrifice: Religious Transformations in Late Antiquity.
Translated by Susan Emanuel. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009.
Williamson, Clark. “Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?” Interpretation 57 (2003): 266–79.
Hebrews and the Discourse of Judeophobia
Ekkehard W. Stegemann and Wolfgang Stegemann
Introduction
It can seem as if no verse in the Christian Bible, even in the first part of the
bipartite canon, has escaped anti-Jewish interpretation or anti-Jewish use over
the course of the centuries. Since late antiquity, Christian discourse about Jews
and Judaism has created a construction of the Jew and Judaism that consists of
a collection of individual topics, motives, and stereotypes but has vilification
as its common theme.1 Many of these single components have their roots in
the New Testament—in, for example, obdurate and blindfolded Jews, Christ
killers and murderous Jews in general, self-righteous Jews, Jews who do not
obey God and his revelation, disbelieving Jews, or Jews who are rejected by
God, suffer the wrath of God, or are cursed by God. Many, perhaps even all, of
the books of the New Testament could only be comprehended, it seemed, in
light of such vilification or negative imagery. Since late antiquity, commentar-
ies, sermons, and theological tractates on the New Testament, and especially
texts that can be placed in the literary category of Adversus Judaeos tractates,
have repeated these anti-Jewish topoi, which their authors read into the bibli-
cal text even where they are not evidently present. Many passages and verses
in Hebrews have seemed well suited for a place in this discourse of stigmati-
zation of the Jews.2 Teachings of contempt drawn from Hebrews include the
ideas that Christianity is the replacement for Judaism, that Christianity has
the better, or true, divine cult, and that the synagogue represents the old cov-
enant, which is destined to pass away, while the church represents the new and
better covenant that lasts forever. Even the vilification of the Jews as perpetra-
tors of fratricide like Cain, the demonizing Johannine accusation against the
Jews, was read into Heb 12:24.
After the Holocaust and particularly since the 1990s, research on
Judeophobia3 and Hebrews has been led to ask whether Hebrews was
1
Cf. Ekkehard W. Stegemann, “Anti-Judaism and Anti-Semitism. III. New Testament,”
Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009), 2:211–16.
2 Cf. e.g., Erich Gräßer, An die Hebräer (3 vols.; EKKNT 17; Zurich: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–97), 1:31–32.
3 We adopt here the term “Judeophobia” as used recently in reference to anti-Jewish phenom-
ena in antiquity; see, e.g., Peter Schäfer, Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient

358 Stegemann and Stegemann
d etermined to be part of Christian anti-Jewish discourse as a result of the

polemical Christian construction of alienation and vilification of Jews, or
whether the author of Hebrews deliberately provided Christian discourse with
anti-Jewish ammunition. Unsurprisingly, both possibilities find scholarly sup-
port.4 Why this should be the case is the subject we will address here.
Different Opinions
While acknowledging that “Judaism is not vilified in Hebrews, nor are Jews
aspersed,”5 many scholars agree that Hebrews is an anti-Jewish treatise.
Other scholars argue against this characterization, although they admit that
Hebrews tells of a “new covenant” that “has displaced the old and rendered it
‘obsolete.’ ”6 Such antithetical assessments are often the product of assump-
tions about the historical situation, actual author, intention, and addressees
of the book. Scholars who contend that Hebrews is not engaged in an anti-
Jewish discourse often base their argument on the Jewishness of the author,
his subjects and exegetical methods, his audience, and the intent of the book,
which, they note, pleads for a reform or renewal of Israel.7 Gabriella Gelardini’s
monograph on Hebrews is arguably the most substantial representative of this
type of interpretation.8
World (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1998), and Zvi Yavetz, “Judeophobia in
Classical Antiquity: A Different Approach,” JSS 44 (1993): 1–22. For deliberations about vari-
ous possible terms for these phenomena, see Stegemann, “Anti-Judaism and Anti-Semitism,”
211–12.
4 More recent publications that address this topic include Knut Backhaus, Der Neue Bund und
das Werden der Kirche: Die Diatheke-Deutung des Hebräerbriefs im Rahmen der frühchristli-
chen Theologiegeschichte (NTAbh 29; Münster: Aschendorff, 1996), 345–63; Backhaus, “Das
wandernde Gottesvolk—am Scheideweg: Der Hebräerbrief und Israel,” in “Nun steht aber
diese Sache im Evangelium . . .”: Zur Frage nach den Anfängen des christlichen Antijudaismus
(ed. Rainer Kampling; Paderborn: Schöningh, 1999), 301–20; Erich Gräßer, “An die Hebräer—
eine antijüdische Schrift?,” in Ja und nein: Christliche Theologie im Angesicht Israels (ed. Klaus
Wengst et al.; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1998), 305–17; John C. MacCullough,
“AntiSemitism in Hebrews?,” IBS 20 (1998): 30–45.
5 Samuel Sandmel, Anti-Semitism in the New Testament? (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1973), 120.
6 Cf. e.g. Clark M. Williamson, “Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?,” Interpretation 57 (2003): 266–79,
here 272.
7 Cf. e.g., Marie E. Isaacs, Sacred Space: An Approach to the Theology of the Epistle to the Hebrews
(JSNTSup. 73; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992).
8 Gabriella Gelardini, “Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht”: Der Hebräer, eine Synagogenhomilie zu
Tischa be-Aw (BINS 83; Leiden: Brill, 2007).
Hebrews And The Discourse Of Judeophobia 359
But assumptions about the historical circumstances of the letter are not
necessarily decisive. John Gager is of the opinion that “the author of Hebrews
was undoubtedly a Jew” and that “there is no trace anywhere of either Jewish
Christian or Gentile anti-Judaism” in Hebrews; for Gager the letter must there-
fore be considered “a critique of Judaism from within.” But Gager nonetheless
contends that the Jewishness of the author of Hebrews “reduces itself to his
background and culture.” In all other respects, he writes, the letter is “well on
the way toward Marcion.” Why?—because of what he calls the “radicalism” of
Hebrews, namely, its contention “that a new covenant has rendered the old
one obsolete.”9
The thematic tendency often called supersessionism is considered particu-
lar evidence of a bias against Jews and Judaism,10 and provides grounds for
Samuel Sandmel11 and Lillian Freudmann,12 for example, to construe Hebrews
explicitly as a Christian anti-Jewish discourse. That interpretation is often
combined with the assumption that Hebrews was written, as Judith Lieu pro-
poses, “to those tempted to revert to a Jerusalem-focused loyalty, particularly
by the calls for patriotism in the period before or after the first revolt.”13 An
opposing view is adopted by scholars who argue that when Hebrews was writ-
ten, Christianity and Judaism did not exist as “polar entities”; what would later
become “Christianity” was at that time “an internally diverse messianic sect
within an equally diverse ‘Judaism.’ ”14 Writing of Hebrews’ so-called superses-
sionism, Clark Williamson records that there was—except for the sacrificial
cult—“no indication of the supersession of any other aspect of the Thorah.”15
9 John Gager, The Origins of Anti-Semitism: Attitudes toward Judaism in Pagan and Christian
Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983), 183.
10 Cf. the lengthy discussion involving Richard B. Hays (“ ‘Here We Have No Lasting City’:
New Covenantalism in Hebrews” [pp. 151–73]), Oskar Skarsaune (“Does the Letter to the
Hebrews Articulate Supersessionist Theology?: A Response to Richard Hays” [pp. 174–83]),
Mark D. Nanos, “New or Renewed Covenantalism?: A Response to Richard Hays” [pp. 184–
88]), Morna D. Hooker, (“Christ the ‘End’ of the Cult” [pp. 189–212]), and Nehemia Polen
(“Leviticus and Hebrews . . . and Leviticus” [pp. 213–25]) in The Epistle to the Hebrews and
Christian Theology (ed. R. Bauckham et al.; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 151–225.
11 Sandmel, Anti-Semitism in the New Testament?
12 Lillian C. Freudmann, Antisemitism in the New Testament (New York: University Press of
America, 1994).
13 Judith M. Lieu, Christian Identity in the Jewish and Graeco-Roman World (Oxford: Oxford
14 Tim S. Perry, “The Historical Jesus, Anti-Judaism, and the Christology of Hebrews:
A Theological Reflection,” Didaskalia 10 (Spring 1999): 69–78, esp. p. 74.
15 Williamson, “Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?,” 276.
And if the old covenant means exclusively the sacrificial system of the Torah
and if Hebrews was written after the destruction of the Second Temple and
therefore when sacrifice was no longer possible, there are grounds to argue
that Hebrews offers a consoling alternative, with Christ as high priest of a tem-
ple in heaven, a new covenant, and an everlasting atonement. As we shall see,
even if a new covenant proclaims the old covenant invalid or obsolete, that
new covenant is not necessarily anti-Jewish as such.
An Unresolvable Aporia?
Even this brief discussion has made evident the dilemma as to whether
Hebrews should be understood as an anti-Jewish discourse. Have we then to
leave the case at that aporetic point?
Even if we engage in detailed scrutiny of arguments already put forward by
scholars and offer our own arguments in turn, we will not have a final answer,
for we cannot know the truth of our (historical) suppositions. And there
is an imbalance in the feasibility of the alternatives. We have ample and
strong evidence that Hebrews suited the interests of Christian anti-Jewish dis-
courses, but an absence of evidence does not exclude the possibility of a non-
anti-Jewish process of discourse formation. How can we know that the text
embodies an anti-Jewish bias, as Sandmel claimed, when it does not specifi-
cally vilify Judaism and throw aspersions on Jews?
In his book on the beginnings of Jewishness, Shaye Cohen notes, “like
most . . . other identities imagined . . . it [Jewish identity] has no empiri-
cal, objective, verifiable reality to which we can point and over which we
can exclaim, ‘This is it!’ Jewishness is in the mind.”16 We know of conflicting
conceptions about what Jewishness was and what the Torah really meant.
The Damascus Document, for example, refers to a precursor of the Yachad
as the “new covenant in the land of Damascus” distinguishable from “the very
first covenant” (CD iii.10; vi.2: bʾrit rishonim), and the community of the Dead
Sea Scrolls terms itself the “covenant of God” and “people of God’s salvation”
(1QM xiv.4f) and connects the membership of that community with the forgive-
ness of sins. Simply put, “Jewishness” and “Judaism” are social constructions, as
is Christianity. Their definition is not to be found in a fixed and inherent mean-
ing but is rather a product of social conventions and negotiations.
16 Shaye J. D. Cohen, The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties

(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), 5.
In light of the strong literary indications in Hebrews that its author and
intended reader reckoned themselves part of Israel, we cannot exclude the
possibility that the work’s bold claims for Jesus as the son of God, the mediator
of a new and lasting covenant, the high priest of a perfect atonement, and the
inaugurator of and forerunner on the path to heaven were an imagination not
of Christianity but of Jewishness. The community that Hebrews has in mind
is a Judaism “in these last days,” when God, who “spoke to our ancestors in
many and various ways by the prophets . . .” has now “spoken to us by a Son,
whom he appointed heir of all things” (Heb 1:1–2 nrsv). Paul’s letters were
addressed mainly to Gentiles and told of a sense of mission that claimed for
believers, both Jews and Gentiles, participation in the new covenant and thus
in salvation. By contrast, Hebrews does not address Gentiles either explicitly
or, we believe, implicitly. Additionally, while Paul’s letters sometimes adopted
an overtly polemical stance against Jews and did not refrain from using pagan
anti-Jewish stereotypes, thus purposely participating in ancient anti-Jewish
discourse, Hebrews does not obviously vilify Jews. Unlike Paul, Hebrews does
not call Jews killers of the Lord, or hated by God, or perpetrators of misan-
thropy, that is, haters of mankind (1 Thess 2:15).17 Unlike Paul, Hebrews calls
Jews neither the katatome (“mutilation”; Phil 3:2), an allusion to pagan anti-
Jewish disparagement of circumcision as mutilation, nor robbers of temples
(Rom 2:22), an allusion to the consonance between hierosylein (i.e., despoil a
temple) and Hierosolyma (i.e., one version of the name of Jerusalem). Hebrews
did not take up the stereotypes of pagan Judeophobia adopted by Paul.
Although they are few in number, these three verses in Paul’s letters reveal a
bias against and distance from Jewishness, even an accommodation to pagan
Judeophobia or anti-Jewish discourses.
The Eternal and the Temporal
Like Paul, however, Hebrews did undoubtedly take part in a messianic or uto-
pian discourse, a discourse on the beginnings or dawn of a perfect or heavenly
world that surpasses and supersedes the present world and whose heirs and
partakers will finally overcome all the limitations, restrictions, and scandalous
17 Cf. Marlene Crüsemann, Die pseudepigraphen Briefe an die Gemeinde in Thessaloniki:
Studien zu ihrer Abfassung und zur jüdisch-christlichen Sozialgeschichte (BWANT 191:
Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2010), 29–78. Crüsemann argues, however, that 1 Thessalonians,
like 2 Thessalonians, is a pseudepigraphic letter.
flaws of earthly existence.18 Since all earthly creatures take part in this typi-
cal earthly existence, and since even Israel, the Torah, and the sacrificial sys-
tem of the first covenant were not able to overcome earthly restrictions once
and for all, the old covenant could not fulfill this dream. The old covenant has
become obsolete and must vanish. But Hebrews, unlike Christian anti-Jewish
and anti-Semitic discourse, does not state that Jewishness or Judaism must be
overcome; on the contrary, Judaism has reached its goal, for which, according
to Heb 11, its believers have been striving. Judaism therefore is not a “shadow
of the good things to come” (10:1), namely, Christianity. It is the defective
and poor constitution of mankind as a whole and even of Judaism’s holiest
traditions which is on the way to be overcome. Therefore the idea of superses-
sionism, which is limited in theological terminology to the notion that Judaism
should be or is already replaced by a better religion, that is Christianity, is
not the intended meaning. Only due to the historicizing and demythologiz-
ing interpretation of Hebrews’ eschatological conceptual framework did the
focus shift from eschatological hope to historical phenomena. The process of
reinterpreting eschatology began with the theological self-identification of the
churches in the late second and early third century and gained special momen-
tum during the reception of the enlightenment’s tradition among modern
theologians. The “goal” that has now been achieved according to Hebrews’
concept, however, is intrinsic to Jewish tradition and does not stand outside it.
The Platonic cosmological idea of mimesis lies behind Hebrews’ determi-
nation of the relationship between the heavenly and earthly cults or the “old”
and “new,” although Hebrews 10:1 seems to use a kind of mimesis, and it even
possibly plays with Platonic categories.19 Hebrews does not take up original
Platonic/Philonic terminology (in which skia is correlated to eikon): the “ideal”
or the paragon is perfect, holistic, and eternal, and its copy or image is a mir-
roring shadow, imperfect and temporal. For Hebrews to be, as Sandmel con-
tends, “an exposition of the conviction that Christianity is the ideal religion,
the realization of the Platonic ‘ideal,’ ” would be a contradiction in terms.20
Finitum incapax infiniti: a temporal, imperfect particular entity could not be an
“ideal” entity; at best the former can be only a “shadow” (Heb 8:5) of the latter
(or in Platonic/Philonic terms its eidolon or hypodeigma) and not the eikon (or
in Platonic/Philonic terms its paradeigma or archetypos). Otherwise one would
be exchanging good coin for bad. If Hebrews contains an equation of the new
18 Cf. especially Backhaus, Der neue Bund.

19 Cf. Harold W. Attridge, Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia;
20 Sandmel, Anti-Semitism in the New Testament?, 120.
covenant and Christianity, as would later Christian anti-Jewish discourse, then

Sandmel was right. We hold open the possibility, however, that when Hebrews
speaks of the old and the new, or the first and the better, covenants, it is not
necessarily and essentially speaking of “Christians” and “Christianity” in oppo-
sition to “Jews” and “Judaism” or “Jewishness.” In other words, that sharp binary
distinction of distinct religious traditions, Judaism and Christianity, is not the
only possible meaning. Rather, it is possible to understand Hebrews, following
Jeremiah, to be arguing in favor of a new version of God’s eternal covenant
with his people.
Judeophobia—A Posteschatological Trap?
Other questions remain to be tackled. How could Hebrews be integrated so

smoothly into anti-Jewish Christian discourses of Judeophobia? How could
Hebrews’ interpreters since late antiquity exchange the promised land in
heaven and the eternal life in innocence for the wonderful but imperfect, sin-
ful, and permanently bothersome earthly entity that is Christianity? A sys-
tem that projects the dawn of a perfect world and tells that there will soon
be opportunity to enter that world and conduct life in the eternal guiltless-
ness and holiness of saints or children of God is utopian and illusionary, if not
even delusional. Belief in that system will eventually clash with the ongoing
reality of guilt, imperfection, error, violence, and timeliness and death. The
Christian discourse of Judeophobia has its roots in that unavoidable clash with
reality, not simply as a matter of theory, but in word and deed.21 Justin was one
of the first to read Hebrews through the lens of supersessionism. And Origen
declared that the real Jews, the “men of Ioudaia,” are the Christians, an allusion
to Heb 7:14 (“For it is clear that our Lord/kyrios sprouted from Iouda,” Hom.
Jer. 9.1). Eventually, in his interpretation of Heb 8, John Chrysostom would
equate “heaven” and the “church” (PG 63.112). While we cannot exclude with
certainty the possibility that Hebrews itself originated from such a discourse
of separation, that possibility seems to us highly implausible.
We could take this topic further, exploring the clash with ongoing and con-
tinuing reality. Some modern psychoanalytic explanations of anti-Semitism
have followed in the footsteps of Sigmund Freud. Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel,
for example, who has developed a theory of “an archaic matrix of the Oedipus
21 Cf. for the following Backhaus, Der neue Bund, 317–19.
complex” that deals with constructions of utopian worlds as perversions,22

would surely argue that Heb 12:22–23—“But you have come to Mount Zion and
to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels
in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in
heaven”—describes an illusionary, smooth, and perfect world. If proved false,
these utopian dreams, especially when combined with the claim that their
realization is at hand, can result in stigmatization. And if Jews are identified as
prominent others who did not take part in this utopian messianic dream but
insisted instead on the old covenant, the Torah, as the principle of reality, they
could easily be reviled as killjoys, as the dog in the manger. These arguments
will not be explored in any greater depth here, but they should be acknowl-
edged. The highly differentiated scholarly debate over when one can speak of
“Christians” or of Christianity as an entity should also tackle this replacement
of apocalyptic-messianic concepts with post-eschatological views. The mythi-
cal dramatization of the present as the end of time and history and the dawn
of an eternal Golden Age lays down traps.
Detecting Anti-Jewish Meanings in Texts—Some Concluding

Thoughts
Since Umberto Eco we know that nobody is able to identify a single interpreta-
tion of a text as the original meaning. There is not such a thing as an interpre-
tation which could claim to catch the authentic intention of the author. How
can we identify, however, a text as either anti-Jewish or a representation of
anti-Jewish ideology? In tackling this expansive issue, this chapter focuses on
one question in particular: How can we know that a text is deliberately anti-
Jewish and that its supposed anti-Jewish character is not a construct of the
interpreter? Our concluding remarks return to some of the examples already
addressed in this chapter in order to classify views on anti-Jewish tendencies
in Hebrews.
Anti-Jewish Tendencies as the Subsistent Meaning of Hebrews

Some scholars adhere to the widely held myth of a subsistent meaning,
understood, according to Andrew Adam, as “the premise that ‘meaning’ is a
22 Cf. Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel, Les deux arbres du jardin: Essais psychanalytiques sur le
rôle du père et de la mère dans la psyché (Paris: des Femmes, 1988), also published as Zwei
Bäume im Garten. Zur psychischen Bedeutung der Vater- und Mutterbilder (Munich: Verlag
Internationaler Psychoanalyse, 1988).
characteristic quality inherent in a text. An exegete’s job, then, requires him

or her to distill that meaning from its raw form in the text to a purer, more
manifest form.”23 Scholars who contend that Hebrews is engaged in an anti-
Jewish discourse make that argument principally through reference to the
text itself, to certain verses or segments of the letter. They might note state-
ments in Hebrews that could be understood as examples of a supersessionist
ideology. Sandmel, for example, claims that Judaism is treated in Hebrews as
“the worthy but imperfect preparation for the perfection which is Christianity.
The Christ has superseded the Law; Christianity has superseded Judaism,”24
an argument that presumes that the supersession of the “old covenant” accord-
ing to Hebrews implies that Judaism, too, is superseded.
If a text really has subsistent meaning as an immanent quality, one won-
ders that so many readers, including professional readers, disagree about these
meanings, even to the extent of favoring opposing interpretations, as we have
seen on the example of the purported anti-Jewish meaning of Hebrews.
Construed Historical Circumstances as Decisive for the Meaning

of Hebrews
Scholars who contend that Hebrews was not written to supply anti-Jewish dis-
course will often base their argument on the historical origins of the letter,
referring in particular to the assumed Jewish identity of author and addressee,
and are convinced that nearly all the topics and themes tackled in the letter
speak to a Jewish symbolic universe. The underlying rationale of this interpreta-
tion, that Hebrews reflects an internal Jewish debate, requires a hermeneutical
shift. If Hebrews is arguing within Judaism and not against Judaism—let’s say,
from the perspective of a new religion that would later be called Christianity—
then it would not be part and parcel of anti-Judaism, but rather an example of
Jewish critique from within, along the lines of the prophets of old.
This approach raises two concerns. First, while historical context is surely
relevant to the issue of anti-Jewish tendencies in Hebrews, do we know any-
thing for certain about the historical context of this letter? The identities of the
author and the addressees and the circumstances of the letter remain subjects
of speculation. And secondly, even if we concede that the empirical author
and addressees of Hebrews are Jewish, who is to decide and on what grounds
23 Andrew K. M. Adam, Faithful Interpretation: Reading the Bible in a Postmodern World
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006), 2 (italics added).
24 Sandmel, Anti-Semitism in the New Testament?, 8.
whether their convictions remain within the boundaries of what is Jewish, for,
to cite Cohen again, “Jewish identity in antiquity was elusive.”25
The problem can be briefly demonstrated by an example that takes the
Jewish identities of the author and addressees into account but nevertheless
interprets Hebrews in terms of Christian anti-Semitism. According William
Nicholls,
the author of Hebrews is so convinced of the superiority of Jesus to Moses,

and of the new covenant to the old, that he can no longer be called a
Jew, even if he had once been one. No one can speak of the covenant of
Sinai as abolished and replaced by something better and still be a Jew.
The claim for the superiority of Jesus to Moses is an absolute breach with
Judaism and the manifesto of a new religion.
With reference to the addressees Nicholls continues, “If the letter . . . was actu-
ally addressed to Jews, or to Christian Jews, its purpose must have been to dis-
suade them from fidelity to Judaism.”26 But what authority had the power to
decide what was in and what was out? What about the Essenes and their con-
viction that they represented a fulfillment of the promise of the new covenant
in the land of Damascus?
Historical context is undoubtedly important, but the persistent ambigui-
ties preclude a decisive interpretation. Neither the text itself nor its assumed
historical origins can tell us whether Hebrews is engaged in an anti-Jewish
discourse.
Do Texts have Ideologies?

In a stimulating book Andrew Adam contributes to the debate over the alleged
anti-Jewish meaning of the gospel of Matthew. He reminds his readers of a
question posed by Fred Burnett with regard to the Gospel of Matthew—“Is it
possible to read . . . without an anti-Jewish reading effect?”27—a question that
we can usefully apply to Hebrews also. Adam responds,
25 Cohen, Beginnings of Jewishness, 3.

26 William Nicholls, Christian Antisemitism: A History of Hate (London: Jason Aronson,
1993), 169.
27 Adam, Faithful Interpretation, 67, where Adam refers to Fred W. Burnett, “Exposing the
Anti-Jewish Ideology of Matthew’s Implied Author: The Characterization of God as
Father,” Semeia 59 (1992): 156.
that ideology is inherent not in texts, nor even in readers, but in what
Tony Bennett28 calls ‘reading formations’: the intersections of readers
with colleagues to whom they are accountable, with texts, and with vari-
ous other institutional and social constraints on interpretation. No text is
ideologically tainted (with or against Judaism . . . ) without the coopera-
tion of readers and institutions that construct the text as ‘ideologically
tainted’.29
While essentially we agree with Adam, we differ from him on one important
point: a significant part of so-called “reading formation” is the text we read.
Certainly, the meaning of the text is constructed by readers in that its interpre-
tation depends on their competence and “institutional and social constraints.”
But the construction of meaning depends also on the text itself, if only on its
signifying elements. We readily concede that the interaction between exegete
and text is not an encounter between equals. The text has no autonomous
voice; it depends on the voices of its readers. But each reader who gives an
account of his or her understanding of the text to other readers must reckon
on their interaction with the text too. His or her arguments must therefore refer
to the signifiers of that text and to social conventions about the signifiers—or
the meaning(s)—of every word of that text. Meaning is the result of social
conventions, but these conventions are related to words, to signifiers. Simply
and briefly put: the text itself can have no meaning and no ideology, but
the signifiers of every text are not empty. We can never avoid the tyranny
of the signifiers—as Roland Barthes put it—wheresoever their meaning comes
from. While we agree with Adam that reading formation is accountable for the
meaning of texts, we would stress that texts and their signifiers belong to that
formation and that signifiers are never empty.
And so we can return to Hebrews for a final thought: within current reading
formations, Hebrews provides little resistance to anti-Jewish interpretations of
its meaning; whether the same can be said for reading formations contempo-
raneous with the writing of the letter is beyond our knowledge.
28 Tony Bennett, “Texts in History: The Determinations of Readings and Their Texts,” in
Poststructuralism and the Question of History (ed. Derek Attridge, Geoff Benngton, and
Robert Young; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 63–81.
29 Adam, Faithful Interpretation, 71 (italics in original).
Bibliography
Testament 17. Zurich: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–97.
Other Literature
Adam, Andrew K. M. Faithful Interpretation: Reading the Bible in a Postmodern World.
Backhaus, Knut. “Das wandernde Gottesvolk—am Scheideweg: Der Hebräerbrief und
Israel.” Pages 301–20 in “Nun steht aber diese Sache im Evangelium . . .”: Zur Frage
nach den Anfängen des christlichen Antijudaismus. Edited by Rainer Kampling.
Paderborn: Schöningh, 1999.
———. Der Neue Bund und das Werden der Kirche: Die Diatheke-Deutung des Hebräer-
briefs im Rahmen der frühchristlichen Theologiegeschichte. Neutestamentliche
Abhandlungen 29. Münster: Aschendorff, 1996.
Bennett, Tony. “Texts in History: The Determinations of Readings and Their Texts.”
Pages 63–81 in Poststructuralism and the Question of History. Edited by Derek
Attridge, Geoff Bennington, and Robert Young. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1987.
Chasseguet-Smirgel, Janine. Les deux arbres du jardin: Essais psychanalytiques sur le
rôle du père et de la mère dans la psyché. Paris: des Femmes, 1988, also published as
Zwei Bäume im Garten. Zur psychischen Bedeutung der Vater- und Mutterbilder
(Munich: Verlag Internationaler Psychoanalyse, 1988).
Cohen, Shaye J. D. The Beginnings of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties.
Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999.
Crüsemann, Marlene. Die pseudepigraphen Briefe an die Gemeinde in Thessaloniki:
Studien zu ihrer Abfassung und zur jüdisch-christlichen Sozialgeschichte. Beiträge
zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament 191. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer,
2010.
Freudmann, Lillian C. Antisemitism in the New Testament. New York: University Press of
America, 1994.
Gager, John. The Origins of Anti-Semitism: Attitudes toward Judaism in Pagan and
Christian Antiquity. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983.
Gelardini, Gabriella. “Verhärtet eure Herzen nicht”: Der Hebräer, eine Synagogenhomilie
zu Tischa be-Aw. Biblical Interpretation Series 83. Leiden: Brill, 2007.
Gräßer, Erich. “An die Hebräer—eine antijüdische Schrift?” Pages 305–317 in Ja und
nein: Christliche Theologie im Angesicht Israels. Edited by Klaus Wengst, Gerhard Sass,
Katja Kriener, and Rainer Stuhlmann. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1998.
Hays, Richard B. “ ‘Here We Have No Lasting City’: New Covenantalism in Hebrews.”

Pages 151–73 in The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology. Edited by
R. Bauckham, Daniel R. Driver, Trevor A. Hart, and Nathan MacDonald. Grand
Hooker, Morna D. “Christ the ‘End’ of the Cult.” Pages 189–212 in The Epistle to the
Hebrews and Christian Theology. Edited by R. Bauckham, Daniel R. Driver, Trevor A.
Hart, and Nathan MacDonald. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009.
Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series 73. Sheffield, JSOT
Press, 1992.
Lieu, Judith M. Christian Identity in the Jewish and Graeco-Roman World. Oxford: Oxford
MacCullough, John C. “AntiSemitism in Hebrews?” Irish Biblical Studies 20 (1998):
30–45.
Nanos, Mark D. “New or Renewed Covenantalism?: A Response to Richard Hays.” Pages
184–88 in The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology. Edited by R. Bauckham,
Daniel R. Driver, Trevor A. Hart, and Nathan MacDonald. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2009.
Nicholls, William. Christian Antisemitism: A History of Hate. London: Jason Aronson,
1993.
Perry, Tim S. “The Historical Jesus, Anti-Judaism, and the Christology of Hebrews: A
Theological Reflection.” Didaskalia 10 (Spring 1999): 69–78.
Polen, Nehemia. “Leviticus and Hebrews . . . and Leviticus.” Pages 213–25 in The Epistle
to the Hebrews and Christian Theology. Edited by R. Bauckham, Daniel R. Driver,
Trevor A. Hart, and Nathan MacDonald. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009.
Sandmel, Samuel. Anti-Semitism in the New Testament? Philadelphia: Fortress, 1973.
Schäfer, Peter. Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World. Cambridge,
Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1998.
Skarsaune, Oskar. “Does the Letter to the Hebrews Articulate Supersessionist
Theology?: A Response to Richard Hays.” Pages 174–83 in The Epistle to the Hebrews
and Christian Theology. Edited by R. Bauckham, Daniel R. Driver, Trevor A. Hart, and
Nathan MacDonald. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009.
Stegemann, Ekkehard W. “Anti-Judaism and Anti-Semitism. III. New Testament.” Pages
211–16 in vol. 2 of Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception. Edited by Dale C.
Allison, Jr., Christine Helmer, Choon-Leong Seow, Hermann Spieckermann, Barry
Dov Walfish, and Eric Ziolkowski. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009.
Williamson, Clark M. “Anti-Judaism in Hebrews?” Interpretation 57 (2003): 266–79.
Yavetz, Zvi. “Judeophobia in Classical Antiquity: A Different Approach.” Journal of
Semitic Studies 44 (1993): 1–22.
Index of Modern Authors
Abbott, Walter M. 310n36 Boyle, A. J. 113n20

Abramenko, Andrik 115n30 Boys, Mary C. 324n26, 326, 329, 337
Adam, Andrew K. M. 364–368 Braun, Herbert 86n79, 134n6, 287n10
Adams, Edward 267 Braun, Roddy 40n27
Aitken, Ellen Bradshaw 2, 10, 111n9, 112n14, Brooks, W. E. 243n14
128, 135, 141, 194, 218 Bruce, Alexander Balmain 9, 301–303
Alberigo, Guiseppe 320 Bruce, F. F. 23, 124n63, 239n3
Allen, David L. 65n7, 107n24 Buchanan, George W. 246n20
Allen, Edgar L. 47n1 Bühner, Jan-Adolf 54n28, 55n31, 56n34
Allen, Leslie C. 77 Burnet, Régis 2n5, 211n5
Altmann, Alexander 89 Burnett, Fred W. 336n27
Anderson, Francis I. 82n67
Arata, Francesco Paolo 119n47 Caird, George B. 31, 264
Arendt, Hannah 321 Calvin, John 303–304
Attridge, Harold W. 2, 8, 15n1, 19–20, 22–23, Canavan, Rosemary 136
25–28, 34, 110n3, 111n11, 169n66, 197n9, Cancik, Hubert 120n51
212n7, 217, 252n41, 283 Candilio, Daniela 119n50
Aune, David 169n66 Caneday, Ardel B. 171n77
Carroll, James 317n3
Backhaus, Knut 2n5, 123n57, 212n8, 213, Cassidy, Edward Idris 320n13
221n42, 358n4 Charlesworth, Martin P. 162n36
Bamberger, Bernard J. 66n9 Chasseguet-Smirgel, Janine 363, 364n22
Barrett, C. K. 238n2, 248n26 Chester, A. N. 346n9
Bateman, Herbert W. 65n7 Chilton, Bruce D. 38n24
Bauckham, Richard 2n5, 63n1 Clauss, Manfred 113n21, 119n50
Bea, Augustin 320–323 Clifford, Richard J. 67, 74n34, 76n44
Beard, Mary 143n34, 166–167 Clines, David J. 72n29
Ben Dov, Jonathan 71n28 Cockerill, Gareth Lee 63–65, 64n3, 155n3,
Benedict XVI 328n38 156n7–8, 212n9
Benhabib, Seyla 321n18 Cody, Aelred 203n21, 238n3
Bennett, Tony 367 Cody, Jane 161n28, 164
Berquist, Jon L. 2, 182n7, 210, 234, 235n56 Cohen, Shaye J. D. 360, 366
Betegh, Gábor 102n16 Coleman, K. 120n51
Bingham, D. Jeffrey 3n6 Collins, John J. 168n64
Blake, Marion Elizabeth 145n36 Connelly, John 316n1, 318n5, 322–323,
Blamberg, Jan Eric 146n37 324n26, 337
Blanton, Ward 189n14 Cooley, Alison E. 159n19, 164n42
Blenkinsopp, Joseph 75 Cross, Frank Moore 67
Bloch, Raymond 141n33 Crüsemann, Marlene 361n17
Blumenkranz, Bernhard 89 Cunningham, Philip A. 324n26, 326, 329,
Bonnet, Corinne 112n12 337
Borelli, John 320n14, 321, 323
Bornkamm, Günther 307 Dalley, Stephanie 41n32, 42n34
Bowman, John 52n18–19, 53n25 Damon, Chris 149n42
Boyarin, Daniel 2, 15, 18n10, 27n25 Darwall-Smith, Robin H. E. 161n29
372 Index of Modern Authors
DeSilva, David A. 2n6, 126n69–71, 134n3 Gibson, Craig A. 140n26

Dey, Lala K. K. 238n2 Ginzberg, Louis 53n24
Dillon, John 99n6, 106n23 Girard, Jean-Louis 118n41
Doormann, Friedrich 22n18 Girard, Rene 345n6
Dulles, Avery 324–329 Gnuse, Robert Karl 70n25
Dunnill, John 126n74 Goldin, Judah 56n35
Dunning, Benjamin 354n27 Gordon, Richard 113n23
Dunn, James D. G. 242n12 Gordon, Robert P. 340
Dunsky, Shimshon 17n7 Graf, Fritz 2, 104n20
Grässer, Erich 123n57, 136n11, 351n24, 358n4
Eberhart, Christian A. 195n2, 260n3 Green, Alberto R. W. 68n13
Eisele, Wilfried 267n23 Greenblatt, Stephen 195n3, 205
Eisenbaum, Pamela 2, 9, 330n42, 331, 343 de Grummond, Nancy T. 158, 159n20
Eliyahu, Eyal Ben 234n53 Gurtner, Daniel M. 83n69
Ellingworth, Paul 31n5, 34n16, 64n6, 78, 126, Guthrie, George H. 31n3–5, 240n7
156n6, 212n7
Ellison, H. L. 48 Haacker, Klaus 305n17
Enns, Peter 35n18 Habel, Norman C. 72n29
Ernest, J. D. 44 Haber, Susan 220n40
Esler, Philip 161n27 van Haeperen, Françoise 115n26–27
Hagner, Donald A. 125n66
Farrar, F. W. 238n2 Hamerton-Kelly, Robert 345n6
Farrow, Douglas 266n20 Hamilton, Victor P. 71n27
Fears, J. Rufus 161n30, 162, 166n53–55, 167 Handy, Lowell K. 69, 84
Fisher, Eugene J. 318n7 Hannah, Robert 185n9
Fishwick, Duncan 119 Hardie Alex 116n37
Flanagan, James W. 182, 215n21 Hardie, Philip 161n30
Flannery, Edward H. 317n3 Harnack, Adolf von 301
Flinn, Frank K. 324n28 Harrington, Daniel J. 332n49
Flowers, Michael 104n21 Harris-McCoy, Daniel E. 101n13
Flusser, David 31n5, 32n9 Harvey, David 181
Fossum, Jarl E. 54n26, 55, 56n34–37 Hay, David M. 242n11
Foster, Hal 138n22, Hays, Richard B. 334, 336, 359n10
Foucault, Michel 181 Heen, Erik 332n48
Fox, Michael V. 72n30 Heidel, Alexander 41n31, 42n34
Frankfurter, David 319n11 Heil, John Paul 65n7
Fredrick, David 118n35 Heldt, Petra 316n1
Freudmann, Lillian C. 359 Heyman, George 346n9
Frey, Jörg 295n19 Hoch Wray, Judith 333n49
Hofius, Otfried 32n9, 37, 238n2, 273
Gager, John G. 50n12, 51n14, 329n39, 346n10, Hooker, Morna D. 330n41, 359n10
359 Horbury, William 48n4, 50n11
Galinsky, Karl 159, 160n22–25, 165n48 Hossfeld, Frank-Lothar 74n34, 75–78, 86
Garroway, Joshua D. 2n6 Hubbard, Phil 210n1
Gelardini, Gabriella 2, 110n4–5, 126, Hughes, Philip Edgcumbe 123n57
217n32–33, 220n38 de Hulster, Izaak J. 136n13
George, Mark K. 195, 198, 204–205, 353n26n Hurst, Lincoln D. 111n8, 171n77, 238–239,
Gerstenberger, Erhard S. 74n34 247–249, 266n21
Isaac, Jules 320–321 Lefebvre, Henri 6, 181, 195, 204, 206n27,

Isaacs, Marie E. 127n75, 212n7, 259, 333, 215–216
347n11 Levene, D. S. 121n52–53
Isaak, Jon M. 126n74 Levick, Barbara 145n36
Liebeschuetz, J. H. W. G. 166n57
Jensen, W. 147n41 Lierman, John 2, 47
Jewett, Robert 134n3 Lieu, Judith M. 359
Johnson, Earl S. Jr. 319 Lincoln, Andrew 111n6, 332n49
Johnson, Luke Timothy 22, 65n7, 107n24, Lincoln, Bruce 351n23
185n10, 326–327 Lister, Martin 137n17
Johnson, Mark 261n5 Loader, William R. G. 111n7
Johnsson, William G. 255, 334 Löhr, Hermut 125n65
Johnston, Sarah Iles 104n20 Lundberg, Matthew D. 329n40
Jones, Brian W. 116n36–37 Luz, Ulrich 299, 313
Jones, Peter Rhea 57
Jordan, Clarence 318–319 MacCullough, John C. 358n4
MacDonald, John 48n3, 51n15–16
Kähler, Martin 306 Mach, Michael 66n8
Kampling, Rainer 2n5 Machiela, Daniel A. 64n3
Kantiréa, Maria 119n48 Mackie, Scott D. 140n25, 150, 153, 268
Karrer, Martin 156n5, 168n62, 212n12 MacRae, George W. 203n21, 239, 268,
Käsemann, Ernst 9, 126n73, 202n20, 304, 272–273
305n17, 307–308, 313, 333–334, 337 Maher, Michael 43n36
Katz, Peter 273n37 Maier, Christl M. 234n54
Kennedy, George A. 139n23 Maier, Gerhard 305n17
Kitchin, Rob 210n1 Maier, Harry O. 2, 133
Klawans, Jonathan 190n15, 251n37, 253n44, Malaise, Michel 127n76
268, 345n6 Manson, W. 136n11
Klein, Michael L. 55n32 Martin, Alain 123n58
Kleiner, Diana E. E. 141n32, 145n36, 147n41 Mase-Hasegawa, Emi 332n49
Klijn, Albertus F. J. 83n68 Mason, Eric F. 2, 4, 63, 266n21, 268
Knox, Wilfred L. 169n66 Mattingly, Harold 116n34, 118n43, 164n44
Koester, Craig R. 2, 16n5, 32n6, 57n38–40, McCruden, Kevin B. 267n23
64n6, 78, 110n3, 112, 123–125, 134, 140, McFadyen, Joseph F. 265n18
173n82, 197n9, 204n22, 211n4, 212n11, McFague, Sallie 261n5
239n4, 251n35, 300n4 McNamara, Martin 32n7, 44
Koltun-Fromm, Naomi 19n12 Meeks, Wayne A. 55n31
Koosed, Jennifer L. 327 Meier, John P. 65n7, 85n75, 86–87
Kraus, Hans-Joachim 73, 76n44 Mettinger, Tryggve N. D. 68n13
Krey, Philip D. W. 332n48 Metzger, Bruce M. 84n70
Kugel, James L. 68n15 Meyers, Carol 190n15
Kühnel, Gustav 234n55 Michael, Robert 317n3
Michalak, Aleksander R. 66n8
Laansma, Jon C. 2n5, 32n9, 299n3, 332n49 Michel, Otto 9, 238n2, 287n11, 304–312
Lakoff, George 261n5 Mikosch, Gunnar 234n52
Lane, William L. 22, 155n1 Milgrom, Jacob 48n2
Langton, Daniel R. 239n39 Millar, Fergas 161n29
Leberl, Jens 113n19 Miller, Patrick D. 68n13, 76n45
374 Index of Modern Authors
Mitchell, William J. T. 5, 137–138, 151 Ramage, Nancy H. 158n13, 159n19, 163n40
Moffatt, James 9, 86n77, 155n3, 156–157, 173, Reiterer, Friedrich V. 66n8
301–305, 313 Rhee, Victor (Sung Yul) 87n81, 87n83
Moffitt, David M. 8, 156n4, 168n62, 185n10, Ricoeur, Paul 240n6
244n17–19, 250n33, 251n37, 253n44, Riemer, Ulrike 113n17
254n45, 266n19 Rissi, Mathias 123n59, 136n11
Molthagen, Joachim 112n15 Robbins, Vernon K. 136
Montefiore, Hugh 65n7, 287n10 Rosen, David 328
Morgan, David 5, 137–138, 145 Rosso, Emmanuelle 118n45
Morselli, Marco 321n16 Ruiten, Jacques van 80–82
Muellner, Leonard 101n16 Rüpke, Jörg 2, 5, 112n12, 114n24, 127n76, 135,
Muir, Stephen 135 141, 199, 209
Mullen, E. Theodore, Jr. 67n11
Mundt, Felix 149 Sandars, Nancy K. 41n33
Murphy, Roland E. 72n30 Sandmel, Samuel 346n10, 358n5, 359–365
Sarna, Nahum M. 68n15
Nanos, Mark D. 359n10 Sauter, Franz 113n22
Nauta, Ruurd R. 113n20, 122n55 Sawyer, John F. A. 331
Neil, William 31n1 Scarpi, Paolo 112n12
Nelson, Richard D. 344 Schäfer, Peter 357n3
Nicholls, William 366 Schenck, Kenneth 7, 171n77, 186n11, 201n17,
Nickelsburg, George W. E. 79 238, 345–346, 352n25
Nicklas, Tobias 66n8 Schmithals, Walter 59n45
Nomoto, Shinya 265n18 Schmitt, Christoph 305n17
Scholer, David N. 168n64
O’Brien, Peter T. 65n7, 78n51, 123n57 Scholer, David M. 301n5
O’Connor, M. 37n20, 46 Scholer, John M. 110n5
Oliver, James H. 162n31 Schöpflin, Karin 66n8
Ollenburger, Ben C. 68n14 Schrage, Wolfgang 305n17
Olyan, Saul M. 76n45 Schröger, Friedrich 15n1
Orlov, Andrei A. 82n65 Schweitzer, Albert 331
O’Shea, Paul 317n3 Scott, Kenneth 119n48, 173n83
Overbeck, Franz 1 Segal, Alan F. 18n8
Sievers, Joseph 316n1, 317, 318n6
Partin, H. B. 334n56 Seow, C. L. 71n26
Pawlikowski, John T. 317, 319, 324ν26, 326, Simpson, Christopher J. 160n23
329–330, 336–337 Skarsaune, Oskar 359n10
Peeler, Amy L. B. 2n6 Skehan, Patrick W. 81n63
Perry, Tim S. 359n14 Small, Brian C. 140n25
Pfleiderer, Otto 306n23 Smith, Jerome 260n3
Plantinga, Richard J. 329n40 Smith, Jonathan Z. 9, 347, 349
Polen, Nehemia 359n10 Smith, Mark S. 69
Pope, Marvin H. 71–72 Soja, Edward W. 7, 182–183, 194–196,
Proctor, John 32n8 206–208, 215–218
Punt, Jeremy H. 134n3 Sokoloff, Michael 55n32
Sollamo, Raija 81
Rad, Gerhard von 35n18 Soskice, Janet Martin 261, 262n8–11,
Radl, Walter 86n79 263–264
Spicq, Ceslas 99, 134n6, 238n2 Ullucci, Daniel C. 109n1, 132

Spilsbury, Paul 49n8 Urner, Christiana 112n16
Stafford, Emma 165n48
Stec, David M. 36n19 Vaganay, Léon 309
Stegemann, Ekkehard W. 10, 346n9, 357 Valentine, Gill 228n45, 233n48
Stegemann, Wolfgang 10, 346n9, 357 Vallquist, Gunnel 320n13
Stepper, Ruth 114n26 VanderKam, James C. 79n54, 80n57–58
Sterling, Gregory E. 252n41 Vanhoye, Albert 9, 33n12, 127n75, 309–313
Stern, Menachem 51n14 Van Kooten, George H. 99n8
Stewart, Eric C. 215–217 Vonder Bruegge, John M. 196, 206
Steyn, Gert J. 211n5
Still, Todd D. 301n5 Walde, Christina 101n13
Stone, Michael E. 83n68–69 Walker, A. D. 149n42
Stott, W. 243n15 Wallace-Hadrill, Andrew 156n15, 166n57
Stowers, Stanley K. 350n21 Wallace, Robert E. 75n42
Stransky, Thomas 320n13 Waltke, Bruce K. 37n20, 46
Strobel, August 124n64 Wassen, Cecilia 81n64
Stroumsa, Guy 9, 109, 346n9, 350 Webb, Ruth 139
Stuckenbruck, Loren T. 63n1, 274, 275n40 Wedderburn, A. J. M. 173n82, 211n6
Sulzbach, Carla 196 Weiser, Artur 74n34
Svartvik, Jesper 345n4 Well, Liz 137n17
Swetnam, James 106n22 Wengst, Klaus 133–134, 152
Swinson, L. Timothy 78n49 Wenham, Gordon J. 68n15, 69
Westermann, Claus 67n12, 68n15, 69
Talbert, Charles H. 155n3 Whitlark, Jason A. 5, 155, 221n42
Tappert, Theodore G. 308n28 Widengren, Geo 54n26
Termini, Cristina 72n30 Willebrands, Johannes 320n13
Terrien, Samuel 73n32 Williamson, Clark 347n11, 358n6, 359
Thomassen, Einar 284n5 Williamson, H. G. M. 40n27, 75n40
Thompson, Henry O. 68n14 Williamson, Ronald 247n24
Thompson, James W. 65n7, 238n2, 265n18, Windisch, Hans 238n2
267 Wintermute, Orval S. 80n59
Thompson, Thomas R. 329n40 Wucherpfennig, Ansgar 284n5
Toorn, Karel van der 67n12
Tossavainen, Mikael 321 Yadin, Y. 16n6
Trapp, Michel 106n23 Yahalom, Joseph 55n32
Treier, Daniel J. 2n5, 283n1 Yavetz, Zvi 358n3
Torm, F. 273n37 Young, Norman H. 234n50
Tromp, Johannes 54n29
Tuan, Yi-Fu 181 Zenger, Eric 74–75
Zimmerli, Walther 68n14
Index of Scripture and Other Ancient Sources
Biblical Literature Joshua

1:1 57n40
Hebrew Bible/Old Testament
Genesis Judges
1 74–75, 80, 82 5:20 67n12
1:1 86 6:8 54n26
1:1–2:3 68 18:30 48
1:26 72n29
2:4 86 1 Samuel
14:13 337 17 337n66
49:14–15 43
2 Samuel
Exodus 5:2 170n76
in toto: 50, 110, 197–200, 230–233 7:5–16 42
3:10 54
19:1–33:6 225–226 1 Kings
20:2 17 8:56 57n40
20:11 28
25:9 269–270 2 Kings
25:22 50 18:12 57n40
25:40 270–271, 274
28 124 1 Chronicles
29:38–44 286 6:49 57n40
32–33 211, 224–225, 228, 230–233 22:7–10 39–40
33:7–11 7, 214, 220, 223, 226–229 22:17–19 40
33:12–16 228 23:13–14 53n22
23:25 40
Leviticus 28:2 40, 42
in toto: 277, 344, 353n27
4:12 219 2 Chronicles
15 189–190 1:3 57n40
16:2 50 17:7–9 59n45
16:27 190, 219 24:6–9 57n40
Deuteronomy Nehemiah
4:7 190 1:7–8 57
4:11 17 6 74
5:1–2 328n38 9:6 75
9:19 232 9:14 57
9:20 231 10:29 57
26:8 56
31:17 21 Job
31:21 21 8:9 333
32:8–9 70 25:5 286
32:39 18 38 71
34:5 52n20, 57n40 38:4–7 71, 81
Psalms 34:23–24 170n76

8 72–73, 172 42:15 252n41
8:6 73
22 19 Daniel
29 70 3:57–73 81
33 73, 75 4:17 252n41
33:6–7 73 7:9 17
40:6–8 201 9:11 57n40
40:7–9 292
45 85 Hosea
80:4 29 6:2 29
82 70
92:1 29 Haggai
95 3, 22, 25, 32–37, 44, 202 1:12 54n26
99:6 47, 50, 53 2:6 247n23, 352n25
101:26–28 87
103:4 77 Zechariah
104 64–65, 75–77 2:12 54n26
104:4 4, 65, 72n29, 77–87 14:4 234
105:26 57
110 110, 246, 292 Malachi
110:1 168 2:7 58
110:4 97 3:22 37n40
132 38, 40
148 74–75
New Testament
Proverbs Matthew
8 72 in toto: 366
10:1–7 59n45
Isaiah 13:3 292
2:11 29 26:36–46 220
6:8 54n26 26:38–39 294
8:8 20 26:39 222
8:16–18 21
8:17 20–21 Mark
40:26 67n12 14:32–42 220
41:4 18 14:36 222
43:19 319 15:20 214
61:1 54n26
63:9 56n35 Luke
7:12 214
Jeremiah 9:1–6 59n45
1:7 54n26 9:10 59n45
31:31–34 289, 291 9:31 293
22:39–46 220
Ezekiel 22:42 222
2:3 54n26 24:51 246
8:10 252n41
378 Index of Scripture and Other Ancient Sources
John 11:2 326

1:3 288n12 11:29 316n1, 317–318
1:10 292 28:2 170n71
1:16 289
1:23–51 285 1 Corinthians
1:36 285 3:16 242
2:17 291 5:7 243n13
2:19 242, 294 12:3 170
3:13 246n21 13:12 333
5:22 291 14:33 156n5
6:62 246n21 15:27 287
8:15 291 15:47 272
10:18 294 15:54–57 167
12:47 291
12:49 294 2 Corinthians
14:16–17 285 1:20 326n31
14:23 295 12:2 272
14:28 294 13:11 156n5
16:28 292–293
17 289–291 Galatians
17:19 291 1:8 272
19:20 214
19:36 285 Ephesians
2:20 59
Acts
1:9–12 234, 246 Philippians
2:32–36 170n69, 170n71, 246 2:9–11 170n71
7 111n8, 352 3:2 361
7:58 214 4:9 156n5
13:26 322
15:29 223 Colossians
19:13–20 101 1 273n36
21:25 223 1:18 124
Romans 1 Thessalonians
1:18 272 1:10 273
2:22 361 2:15 361
2:29 287 4:16 273
3:25 242, 245 5:23 156n3, 156n5
4:24 170n71
8:3 243 2 Thessalonians
8:29 124 3:16 156n5
8:34 242, 246
9–11 316, 318, 327, 336 Hebrews
9:4–5 318 1:1–2 361
10:6 272 1:1–4:13 313
10:9 170n71 1:1–14 87n81
1:2 86 8:5 252–253, 269–270, 274

1:3–13 171 8:7–12 291
1:3 186, 197, 288–289 8:13 318–320, 323–324, 329, 332,
1:5–14 63–64, 351 336
1:5 28 9 205–206, 241, 248–249
1:6 20, 124, 292 9:1–10:25 140
1:7 63–65, 78, 85–87 9:1–10 149
1:8 186 9:2–7 198
2:5–10 171 9:5 265
2:8–9 140, 150, 168, 171–172 9:7 243
2:9 286–287 9:11–12 249–250, 268, 310
2:10–13 19, 28, 150 9:15–18 294
2:10 187, 343n1 9:23 253, 268, 344
2:14–15 168–169, 169n66 9:24–25 243, 276
2:16 19n11 9:24–26 343–344
2:18 19, 351 9:24 246–247, 271–273
3 56–58 9:28 290
3–4 22, 32, 37, 229 10 293
3:1–4:16 32–36 10:5–10 201
3:1–6 44, 47, 51, 53, 57, 59, 351 10:19–20 201
3:1 35, 58–60 10:20 123
3:6 33–35, 34n14, 38, 240 10:22 302
3:7–19 22–23, 37 10:23 305
3:8–12 190 10:30 32
3:10 187 11 203, 362
4:1–11 25 11:13–16 145, 200
4:2 308 11:13 333
4:4–5 26 12:3 140
4:12 190, 260, 306 12:18–24 149
4:14–15 35–36, 135, 151, 171, 247, 12:18–29 334
284–285 12:21 140
4:14 271, 284 12:22–24 200, 364
5:1–3 294 12:25–27 250
5:4–5 123 13 211–212, 217–218, 223–224
5:7 135 13:1–6 223
5:11 97–98, 105 13:2 106
5:13–14 98 13:7–9 222
7:1 32 13:8 189
7:3 63, 64n4, 288 13:9 213, 232, 241n8
7:11 284 13:10 213, 221
7:14 363 13:10–14 199, 214, 218
7:15–16 171 13:11–12 219
7:22 344 13:12–13 152, 189, 191, 210
7:26 247, 268 13:14 134, 144, 189, 333, 335
7:27 276 13:15 191, 232–233
8–9 243–246 13:15–16 221
8:2 123, 199 13:17–19 222
8:4 240, 270 13:18–25 106
Hebrews (cont.) De natura deorum

13:20–21 155, 167, 171, 173 2.8 166n56
13:20–25 223
13:24 111 Dio Chrysostom
Orationes
1 Peter 1.84 165
1 273n36 2.6 170n75
3:22 273n36 3.41 170n75
4.45 170n75
2 Peter
1:18 273n36 Dionysius of Halicarnassus
3:5 273n36 Antiquitates Romanae
2.72 166n56
1 John
2:2 242 Epictetus
Diatribes
Revelation 3.22.25 170n75
in toto: 319 4.1.12 170n73
21:1 319
21:5 319 Homer
Iliad
2.75–109 170n75
Deuterocanonical Works and Septuagint
3 Kingdoms 54n27 Odyssey
3.156 170n75
1 Maccabees
13:42 123 Horace
Carmen saeculare
Wisdom of Solomon 1.2.29–30 166
10:16 57n40 3.1.5–8 162n34
3.5.1–4 163n39
Baruch 3.6.1–5 166
2:28 57n40 3.14.14–16 164
5.15.4–16 164
Greco-Roman Literature Iamblichus

Life of Pythagoras
Artemidorus 34 100n9
Oneirocritica
1 101n13 Livy
3.66 100n12 Ab urbe condita libri
3.8.1 166n55
Cicero 4.30.10 166n55
De finibus 6.1.12 166n55
4.22 167n59 6.41.8 166n56
7.2.2 166n55
De haruspicum responso 27.8.4–10 115n31
19 166n56 44.1.11 166n56
Maximus of Tyre Res Gestae Divi Augusti

Dissertations in toto: 165
1 106n23 1–4 163
13 159
Ovid
Amores Seneca
3.8.23 116 Hercules Furens
592–615 169
Fasti 889–890 169
3.72 221
4.731–734 116 Hercules Oetaeus
5.579–596 160n22 1942–1943 165n49
6.225–234 116 1989–1996 165
Pliny (the Elder) Statius

Naturalis historia Silvae
8.206 116n32 1.1.36 116n37
34.84 161n26 1.1.62 119
36.58 161n26 1.1.74 119
36.101–125 147 5.1.38 119
5.1.189–191 119
Pliny (the Younger)
Panegyricus Traiani Suetonius
2.3–4 125 Life of Domitian
8.3 121 1.2 119
10.52 171n78 4.4 118
29.1–33.1 164n43 5 118n44
39–40 124 8.3–4 116
52.1 119, 121 12.2 123–124
60.2 121 13.2 119, 170
64.2 121
67.7 166n55 Life of Titus
71.4 121 9.1 115
94.4 122
Valerius Maximus
Polybius De factis dictisque memorabilibus
Histories 6.9.3 115n31
6.56.6–8 166n56
Varro
Plutarch De re rustica
Quaestiones Romanae 2.1.20 116n32
50 117
Vergil
Numa Aeneid
16.4 170n70 1.278–279 221
3.85–86 221
Romulus 12.838–840 166n56
28.2 170n72
Georgica 2.2–3 80–81, 273

1.550–502 166n57 11.8 273n36
Eclogae Psalms of Solomon

4 158 17.21–40 170n76
Xenonphon Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs

Cyropaideia in toto: 273n36
8.2.14 170
Testament of Abraham
4.5 273n36
Jewish Literature 7.4 273n36
Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha Testament of Levi

Apocalypse of Ezra 2.6 273n36
1:7 273n36 5.1 273n36
6:1–6 84
6:38–54 84
7:51 295n18 Dead Sea Scrolls
8:20–22 4, 83, 88 Hodayoth
9.12–13 81n64
Apocryphon of Ezekiel
2.1 273n36 Serek ha Yachad
5.1 273n36 3.15–17 81
Apocalypse of Sedrach Cairo Damascus Document

2.3–5 273n36 3.10 360
4.2 360
2 Baruch
14.17–19 83
21.6–7 83 Hellenistic Jewish Literature
3 Baruch Josephus
2.5 273n36 Antiquitates Judaicae
11.2 273n36 2.210 49
2.274 54
1 Enoch 3.123 251n36
15 79 3.180–181 251n36
17.1 79 3.188–191 49
18.3–10 273n36 3.212 50, 58
3.307 49
2 Enoch 4.16 57
29.3 82 4.83 49
39.5 82 4.317 57
5.39 57
Jubilees
in toto: 82 Bellum Judaicum
1.29 80 5.85–97 235
5.289 214
5.449–451 214 Legum allegoriae

7.123–124 149 2:54–56 220, 232–233
7.123–162 206 3:46 229
7.158–62 161n26
7.158–172 149, 161n26 Legatio ad Gaium
1.44 170n74
Contra Apionem 286 170n73
1.250 50 356 170n73
Vita De opificio mundi

420–421 214 16 247n25
157 252n40
Philo
De confusione linguarum Quaestiones et solutiones in Exodum
190 252n40 2 269
2.52 269
De congressu eruditorum 2.82 269–270
116–117 269 2.91 251n36
2.94 252n37
Quod deterius potiori insidiari soleat 2.105 58n43
160 58, 229
De plantatione
De ebrietate 49.6 49n5
100 233
De praemiis et poenis
De gigantibus 53 49n6
1:54 229 56 49n6
De Vita Mosis De sacrificiis

1.60 170n74 130 49n6
1.128 49n5
1.334 49n6 De somniis
2.71 49 1.143 49n5
2.74–76 269 1.188 100n9
2.75 49 1.215 251n36, 270
2.80–107 269
2.88 251n36 De specialibus legibus
2.166 49, 49n5 1.66 251n36, 252n37, 270
2.143–1520 49 1.72 270
2.194 270 4.192 49n6
Quis rerum divinarum heres sit

182 49 Midrashim
256 252n40, 242n41 Song of Songs Rabbah
1.7 52n21
De Josepho
1.2 170 Deuteronomy Rabbah
2.7 52n23
Exodus Rabbah Targum Neofiti

3.17 52n21 in toto: 229
Genesis Rabbah Targum Onqelos

1.3 82n66 in toto: 229, 231
55.6 53n23 Num 12.7 32
78.1 84n71
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan
Leviticus Rabbah Gen 1.26 82n66
11.6 52n20 Gen 14.18 32
Gen 49:14–15 43
Midrash on the Psalms Exod 33:3–7 229, 231–233
18.22 53n22 Exod 33:8 231
99.4 52n20, 53n22 Exod 33:11 232
Exod 33.12 230
Pirqe de Rab Eliezer Exod 33.20 231
4 82n66, 84n71
Pesiqta Rabbati Early Christian Literature

14.11 53n22
Barnabas
Pesiqta de Rab Kahana 2:4–10 16n6
4.5 52n20, 53n22 2:7 20n13
5:13–14 20n16
8:2 219n37
Mishnah and Talmud
Mishna First Epistle of Clement
Middot 1.3 220 36.2–6 111
Parah 3.6 220
Parah 3.9 219n37 Chrysostom
Yoma 1.3 220 Homilies on the Epistle to the Hebrews
3 292
Babylonian Talmud, 8.1–3 294
Kiddushin 23b 58 16.6–7 295
Taʿanit 11b 52n20 17 289
Zebahim 101b 52n20 17.4 290
102a 53n22
Homilies on the Gospel of John
Jerusalem Talmud 3.4 288
Yoma 1.38b.46–48 52n20 4.2 288
7.2 289n13
17.1 289
Targumim 17.4 290
Targum
Deut 34.5 52n20 Eusebius
Isa 28.12 38 Historia ecclesiastica
Psalm 95 32 6.25.11 97n1
Psalm 95:11 36
Psalm 132.8 37–38
Praeparatio evangelica 2.10 288n12

9.27.24 54n28 6.32 290
6.51 285
Vita Constantini 6.52 286
1.5.1 162n34
Homilies on Jeremiah
Origen 9.1 363
Commentary on John
1.2 284 Tertullian
1.32 288n12 Apology
1.34 288n12 25.2–3 166n56
1.35 284, 286–287
Brill_AJEC91.qxp_SPINE=24mm 28-01-16 11:52 Pagina 1
Hebrews in Contexts
Scholars of Hebrews have repeatedly echoed the almost proverbial saying
that the book appears to its reader as a “Melchizedekian being without
genealogy.” For such scholars the aphorism identified prominent traits
Hebrews
of Hebrews, its enigmatic quality, its otherness, its marginality. Although
Franz Overbeck might unintentionally have stimulated such correlations,
they do not represent what his dictum originally meant. Writing during
the high noon of historicism in 1880, Overbeck lamented a lack of histori-
cal context, one that he had deduced on the basis of flawed presupposi-
in Contexts
tions of the ideological frameworks prevalent in his time. His assertion
made an impact, and consequently Hebrews was not only “othered” with-
in New Testament scholarship, its context was neglected and by some,
even judged as irrelevant altogether. Understandably, the neglect created
a deficit keenly felt by more recent scholarship, which has developed a
particular interest in Hebrews’ contexts. Hebrews in Contexts, edited
by Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge, is an expression of this
interest. It gathers authors who explore extensively on Hebrews’ relations
to other early traditions and texts (Jewish, Hellenistic, and Roman) in
order to map Hebrews’ historical, cultural, and religious identity in
greater, and perhaps surprising detail.
ancient judaism and early christianity 91 ajec 91 ancient judaism and early christianity 91
*hIJ0A4|TR WYy
gabriella gelardini is Associate Professor of New Testament
Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge (Eds.)

(Privatdozentin) at the Theological Faculty of the University of Basel.
Apart from numerous lexicon articles, essays, and short entries on
Hebrews, her publications on the Epistle include “Verhärtet eure Herzen Edited by
nicht”: Der Hebräer, eine Synagogenhomilie zu Tischa be-Aw (Brill, 2007) and
isbn 978-90-04-31168-8 the edited volume Hebrews: Contemporary Methods – New Insights (Brill, 2005; Gabriella Gelardini
issn 1871-6636 sbl, 2008).
brill.com/ajec and Harold W. Attridge
harold w. attridge is the Sterling Professor of Divinity at Yale
University Divinity School. He is the author of a commentary on
Hebrews (Hermeneia, 1989) and numerous essays on the Epistle.
BRILL BRILL

GELARDINI Gabriella and ATTRIDGE Harold W 2016 Hebrews in Contexts Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 91 Leiden A

Încărcat de

Informații document

Drepturi de autor

Formate disponibile

Partajați acest document

Partajați sau inserați document

Opțiuni de partajare

Vi se pare util acest document?

Este necorespunzător acest conținut?

Drepturi de autor:

Formate disponibile

GELARDINI Gabriella and ATTRIDGE Harold W 2016 Hebrews in Contexts Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 91 Leiden A

Încărcat de

Drepturi de autor:

Formate disponibile

Brill_AJEC91.

qxp_SPINE=24mm 28-01-16 11:52 Pagina 1

Gabriella Gelardini and Harold W. Attridge (Eds.)

Martin Hengel † (Tübingen)

Cilliers Breytenbach (Berlin)

Lutz Doering (Münster) – Pieter W. van der Horst (Utrecht)

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/ajec

Names: Gelardini, Gabriella, editor. | Attridge, Harold W., editor.

Copyright 2016 by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands.

This book is printed on acid-free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Midrash in Hebrews / Hebrews as Midrash 15

Moses as Priest and Apostle in Hebrews 3:1–6 47

Hebrews and Second Temple Jewish Traditions on the Origins of

Starting Sacrifice in the Beyond: Flavian Innovations in the Concept of

“For Here We Have No Lasting City” (Heb 13:14a): Flavian Iconography,

Critical Spatiality and the Book of Hebrews 181

An Archaeology of Hebrews’ Tabernacle Imagery 238

Serving in the Tabernacle in Heaven: Sacred Space, Jesus’s High-Priestly

Jesus the Incarnate High Priest: Intracanonical Readings of Hebrews

“In Many and Various Ways”: Theological Interpretation of Hebrews in the

Stumbling Block or Stepping Stone? On the Reception History of

Ritual and Religion, Sacrifice and Supersession: A Utopian Reading

Hebrews and the Discourse of Judeophobia 357

Index of Modern Authors 371

Hebrew Bible/Old Testament

Deuterocanonical Works and Septuagint

Pliny (the Elder)

Pliny (the Younger)

Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha

Dead Sea Scrolls

Hellenistic Jewish Literature

Gen. Rab. Genesis Rabbah

Mishnah and Talmud

Early Christian Literature

CSHJ Chicago Studies in the History of Judaism

SJLA Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity

Ellen Bradshaw Aitken

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_002

he suggests that the writer of Hebrews was a comparable itinerant prophet,

of a heavenly sanctuary serves more fundamentally as a foil to the now-obso-

religion, a shift that can be described as a movement from locative to utopian.

Attridge, Harold W. Essays on John and Hebrews. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen

On my first reading of Hebrews, my immediate and powerful impression was

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_003

Stringing Verses: Sounding Midrash in Hebrews

in the inner-rooms of the Chariot [theosophical speculation].” He said,

Although admittedly an anachronistic comparison, we see from this passage

This passage is an explanation of the passion (and perhaps the incarnation as

Interpreting the Midrash on Psalm 95

Standard commentaries give fairly neutral interpretations to v. 13, “But exhort

23 Attridge, Hebrews, 123.

commonly known or presupposed.”24 I would suggest that this usage is simply

“Another place” here simply means another unspecified verse somewhere in

24 Attridge, Hebrews, 70.

Writing in 1959, George Caird recorded that Hebrews’ interpretation of Old

* I dedicate this work to my wife, Catherine.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_004

Since strong connections between Hebrews and Judaism appear to exist,

10 Koester, Hebrews, 246.

1. Partakers with Christ, the great high priest (3:1)

Therefore, brothers and sisters, holy partners in a heavenly calling, con-

συμπαθῆσαι ταῖς ἀσθενείαις ἡμῶν, πεπειρασμένον δὲ κατὰ πάντα καθ᾿

Targum Psalm 95:11

As we consider the Targumim, we must remember their nature. The Targumim

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_002

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_003

23 Attridge, Hebrews, 123.

24 Attridge, Hebrews, 70.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_004

10 Koester, Hebrews, 246.

23 Stec, Targum of Psalms, 227.

25 Koester, Hebrews, 245.

26 Emphasis mine.

39 McNamara, “Melchizedek,” 30.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_005

5 See Philo, Plant. 46; Som. 1.143; Mos. 1.128; 2.166.

9 A.J. 2.269, 275, 349; 3.60; 4.101.

17 Quoted by MacDonald, Theology of the Samaritans, 175.

30 Fossum, Name of God, 144.

43 Cf. Philo, QE 2.105.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_006

8 Important recent contributions include Michael Mach, Entwicklungsstadien des jüdischen

21 Smith, Memoirs, 102.

39 Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 3, 636.

1 Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 6.25.11.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_007

2 All translations of Hebrews are my own.

19 Demosthenes, Oration 18.259.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ��6 | doi ��.��63/9789004311695_008