I finally got around to reading Elliott’s well-written piece on what terminology scholars should employ when identifying Jesus and his contemporaries in the land of Israel: “Jesus the Israelite was Neither A ‘Jew’ Nor a ‘Christian’: On Correcting Misleading Nomenclature,” Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus 5 (2007) 119-154 (abstract).

Others such as Loren Rosson have commented positively on Elliott’s article. In another post, I have already discussed Steve Mason’s convincing argument that the term Ioudaioi should be translated as “Judean” with its geographical, ethnic, and cultural implications: see Was there such a thing as ancient “Judaism”? Namely, those in antiquity who identified others by their cultural center, place of origin, or ethnic group naturally assumed a way of life associated with that geographical area, including practices and beliefs that we as moderns tend to call “religious”. “Religion” was integrated within an overall perspective that was focussed more on ethnic groups and their different ways of life.

Elliott’s article rightly follows others such as Esler (Elliott didn’t have Mason’s piece) who see major problems in translating Ioudaioi as “Jews”, or ioudaismos as “Judaism”. Elliott’s focus is not on that point, which has been well argued by others. Instead, Elliott draws on ethnic identity theory and suggests that a person’s or group’s self-identification is best used in scholarly pursuits.

Elliott then pursues evidence for what Jesus and other contemporaries in the land of Israel called one another, surveying identifications in the New Testament, Apocrypha, and Pseudepigrapha. He touches on the inscriptions from Delos (involving “Israelites”) briefly but generally does not deal with epigraphical evidence (partly because his focus is on Jesus, perhaps). His answer based on literary evidence is that in the majority of cases, insiders identified one another using terms such as “Israelite” and “children of Israel” but that at times “Judeans” (Ioudaioi) was used to identify people associated with the region of Judea in a broad sense (encompassing adjacent regions such as Galilee). However, “Judeans” was primarily an outsiders’ perspective on identifying what insiders would call “Israelites”, in Elliott’s view. Gradually, diaspora “Israelites” adopted outsiders’ terminology and began identifying themselves as “Judeans” within a diaspora context.

I am largely convinced by many of Elliott’s points. However, my own area of research on immigrants in the diaspora, including Judean immigrants, would suggest that the main terminological focus of inscriptions in Asia Minor and elsewhere is Ioudaioi. People from the land of Israel who migrated and settled elsewhere tended to identify themselves as “Judeans” (as a quick survey of the indices of Inscriptiones Judaicae Orientis shows). “Israelites” rarely occurs as an identification of a specific group in the diaspora, with the exception of those on Delos.

Elliott may be right that Jesus (or his earliest followers) were most often designated “Israelite”, “Galilean”, or “Nazarean”. It may also be true that the term “Israelites” should be used in discussing specific writings that do indeed use that terminology. Yet in the case of scholars who are dealing with those from Israel within the broader context of the ancient Mediterranean, “Judeans” remains most appropriate, particularly in light of the preference for that term in the Greek inscriptions (as a self-designation) and in authors like Josephus (”Israelites” would need to be reserved for the exceptional cases when it is used as a self-designation on monuments, as at Delos). This is where the evidence of Paul’s use of “Judean”, which Elliott sees as exceptional, fits in as well.

We scholars are outsiders too. We need not always (and sometimes shouldn’t) adopt specific insider (emic) language to designate the groups we are studying, even though we always need to be attentive to, and descriptive of, what that insider language is. “Holy ones”, “brothers”, “the righteous” and such are examples of value-loaded insider language that we wouldn’t want to adopt as scholars as general designations of the early followers of Jesus (or Paul). We want to avoid value-loaded language whether it is the stereotyping labels of outsiders or the praising self-designations of insiders. Thankfully neither “Israelite” nor “Judean” fall into the value-loaded category. This may be where I differ from Elliott’s more specific point about the need for scholars to use the categories of insiders, but this does not detract from Elliott’s overall contribution here.

Steve Mason (a colleague of mine here at York U.) recently handed me an offprint of his new article that, in my mind, puts to rest a recent debate within scholarship regarding the appropriateness of using the term “Judaism” — as though it were an ancient, emic (insider) concept — to describe a whole system of practice and belief in the Greco-Roman world:

Steve Mason, “Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing, Judaism: Problems of Categorization in Ancient History,” Journal for the Study of Judaism 38 (2007) 457-512. (available online to subscribing institutions here).

Mason convincingly argues that Ioudaioi (traditionally translated “Jews”) and related terms should be understood in terms of ethnic groupings in antiquity. For the Hellenistic and Roman periods (at least until the third century CE) we should be speaking of “Judeans”, not “Jews”, and of “Judean customs” or practices, not “Judaism”. Mason is careful to point out that he is not arguing against the use of critically-employed, etic (outsider), scholarly categories in the interest of furthering scholarly knowledge (pp. 458-460). So while he is underlining the absence of the category “Judaism” as a system (i.e. the lack of an emic term such as this in ancient literature), on the one hand, he is also pointing to the ineffectiveness, scientifically, of the uncritical use of this specific modern scholarly (etic) category, “Judaism”, in connection with the ancient period.

Mason builds his argument in three stages. First (pp. 457-480), he deals with the relatively rare ancient terms ἰουδαίζω (verb) / Ἰουδαισμός (noun), which have often been erroneously translated as referring to “Judaism” as a system of belief and practice, rather than to the practice of adopting the ways of a particular ethnic group. Mason shows, that these “-ize” terms, like “barbarize”, “Spartanize”, “hellenize”, and “Romanize”, are used by the ancients to speak of those from one ethnic group going over to or adopting the practices of a people other than their own, adopting foreign ways. Christian uses of “Judaize”, as in Ignatius of Antioch, often occur in polemical materials pertaining precisely to this pull toward Judean ways among Greeks of western Asia Minor (”Gentiles”). Mason goes through the main cases of “Judaize”, including those in the Maccabean histories and in the inscription from Stobi, to show that there was no “static or systematic abstraction” known as “Judaism” in minds of those who used these Greek terms in antiquity.

Second (pp. 480-488), Mason goes on to show how some scholars continue to uncritically employ the concept of “religion” in studies of ancient Judean culture. In particular, theories by Shaye Cohen and others that propose a shift in the meaning of Ioudaioi from an originally ethnic-geographic category (i.e. “Judean”) to a religious category (”Jew”) are built on problematic notions regarding the category of “religion”. Mason emphasizes that what we as moderns think of as “religion” was, in fact, not known in antiquity and also intersects or envelopes at least six different categories that were familiar to the ancients (ethnos, cult, philosophy, familial rites of passage, associations, and astrology / magic).

Third (pp. 489-512), Mason argues that the Ioudaioi / Iudaei “of Graeco-Roman antiquity understood themselves, and were understood by outsiders, as an ἔθνος, a people comparable to and contrastable with other ἔθνη” (p. 489). Ancient authors including Strabo, Posidonius, Tacitus, Philo, and Josephus consistently speak of Ioudaioi in terms of them being an ethnos, a people or ethnic group. Here Mason also deals with common objections to the use of “Judeans” to translate Ioudaioi, most notably the objection raised by Cohen and others that “conversion” to Judean ways by non-Judean peoples in the Hasmonean period signals the shift to a “religious” understanding of the label Ioudaios. Mason effectively argues that we have no evidence from ancient authors that this proposed shift took place and that it is also problematic in regard to the notions of “religion” that lie behind it.

This article, in my mind, has put this question to rest. It is time to speak of “Judeans”, “Judean practices”, and “Judean culture” in the same way that we would speak of the identity and practices of the many other ethnic groups or peoples that existed in antiquity. The Judeans of antiquity are not a special case.

Among other things, my own recent research into immigrant groups of various kinds, including Judeans in the Greco-Roman cities, led me to speak of Judeans and Judean culture, Syrians and Syrian culture. Even in lectures I now speak of Paul, Philo, Josephus, and others primarily as “Judeans” and of the practices and beliefs they express as variations on Judean culture. At the moment and probably in the long-run, these are the most appropriate categories to work with.

“In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets” (attributed to Jesus in Matthew 7:12 [NRSV]; cf. Luke 6:31).

As you may know, rabbi Jesus was not alone among those in antiquity in advocating that ethics and treatment of others should be based on how one would like (or not like) to be treated. Thus, for instance, in a story involving another first century rabbi, rabbi Hillel, like Jesus, summarizes the ethical basis of the Torah in speaking to a Gentile convert:

“What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow neighbor. That is the whole Torah, while the rest is an elaborate commentary on it; go and learn” (Shabbat 31a; trans. by Moshe Gold, “Ethical Practice in Critical Discourse: Conversions and Disruptions in Legal, Religious Narratives,” Representations 64 [1998], 21).

And the book of Tobit in the apocrypha preserves a similar concept (Tobit 4:15). This was by no means a solely Jewish (or, later, Christian) way of thinking, however.

Despite what you may have heard about the “pagan” Greeks or Romans (a friend of mine — perhaps representative — thought they were all about wild orgies), “pagans” too were very concerned with proper behaviour as they defined it, and sometimes they defined it in similar ways. Educated philosophers, in particular, focussed their attention on questions of what behaviours were most fitting, desirable, or appropriate in particular circumstances. Such philosophers were often very concerned with “family values”, and so they spent considerable time thinking about what were the appropriate relationships among members of the household: husband-wife; parent-child; sibling-sibling; master-slave (the so called household codes which also appear in variant forms in Christian writings such as Colossians 3:18-4:1 and 1 Peter 2:18-3:7).

Among these “pagan” philosophers is Hierocles, who wrote a handbook in the second century that incorporated many ethical ideas from Stoicism (partially preserved in the works of Stobaeus). In the midst of discussing proper relations among members of the family and in society generally, Hierocles has this to say:

The first bit of advice, therefore, is very clear, easily obtained, and common to all people. For it is a sound word which everyone will recognize as clear: Treat anybody whatsoever as though you supposed that he were you and you he. For someone would treat even a servant well if he pondered how he would want to be treated if the slave were the master and he the slave. Something similar can also be said of parents with respect to their children, of children with respect to their parents, and, in short, of all people with respect to others” (Hierocles, On Duties 4.27.20; translated by Abraham J. Malherbe, Moral Exhortation: A Greco-Roman Sourcebook [Library of Early Christianity; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1986], 93-94. ).

Think of that bit of Greco-Roman wisdom the next time you’re watching some modern film or show depicting those supposedly wild Roman “pagans” with their orgies and gladiatorial slaughter.

Want more on “pagan” ethics and family values?:  See my earlier post on Paul and Philemon, in which I discussed the views of Galen and Seneca, both philosophers, on the proper treatment of slaves.  Also see my articles on the use of familial language including  “brothers” and “mothers or fathers”, within associations.

The first century was marked by a series of tensions between certain Roman authorities and some Judeans that, in some ways, ultimately culminated in the Judean war and the destruction of the second temple by the Romans in 70 CE. While some Roman governors (procurators) of Judea seemed somewhat attentive to the peculiarities of Judean culture, including its monotheism and some of its laws, others were less so.

Thus, for instance, Josephus relates a story about how the procurator or prefect Pilate (who is also known for his execution of Jesus in about 30 CE) attempted to have Roman standards (decorative shields) with images of the emperor placed within the city walls of Jerusalem (War 2. 169-171 //Antiquities 18.55). (There is a useful online article about Pilate). According to Josephus, the result was a significant, non-violent sit-in by a large crowd of Judeans who were greatly offended by the abrogation of Jewish laws concerning images. When Pilate decided he would have his guards surround the crowds and prepare to threaten death, the response by the Judeans was the extension of their necks in Josephus telling: we’ll die for our God’s laws. Pilate gave in this time, but this sort of incident could not be good for Roman public relations in Jerusalem and Judea. In his histories, Josephus recounts a number of other incidents involving clashes, some more violent than this one with Pilate, between Romans and inhabitants in this Roman province.

Among these incidents is one involving a less than polite Roman soldier in the time of procurator Cumanus (c. 48 CE), whose moon and accompanying rude noises (William Whiston’s translation is somewhat more restrained) ended up resulting in a riot and the death of some Judeans in the crowds during the feast of Passover (Josephus may be exaggerating with his 10,000 dead, though):

“[W]hen the multitude were come together to Jerusalem, to the feast of unleavened bread, and a Roman cohort stood over the cloisters of the temple (for they always were armed, and kept guard at the festivals, to prevent any innovation which the multitude thus gathered together might make), one of the soldiers pulled back his garment, and cowering down after an indecent manner, turned his breech to the Jews, and spake such words as you might expect upon such a posture. At this the whole multitude had indignation, and made a clamor to Cumanus, that he would punish the soldier. The rasher part of the youth, and such as were naturally the most tumultuous, fell to fighting, and caught up stones, and threw them at the soldiers. Upon which Cumanus was afraid lest all the people should make an assault upon him, and sent to call for more armed men, who, when they came in great numbers into the cloisters, the Jews were in a very great consternation. Being beaten out of the temple, they ran into the city. The violence with which they crowded to get out was so great that they trod upon each other, and squeezed one another, till ten thousand of them were killed, insomuch that this feast became the cause of mourning to the whole nation, and every family lamented their own relations” (War 2.223-227; the translation here is William Whiston’s as cited on PACE (with punctuation slightly revised), which also supplies the parallel passage in Josephus’ Antiquities.

These are just two examples of what repeated itself at certain points, contributing to what would become a full revolt in 66 CE.