(Helen Bond) I’m busily getting all my papers in order today for the meeting of the SNTS in Berlin next week. (Technically it stands for Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas, but Society for NT Studies would also work). This is the most prestigious gathering of NT scholars; only people with two books or equivalent are allowed to join; and around 300 or so will be descending on the Humbolt University in Berlin.

That all sounds a bit snooty, but its not. Unlike the SBL which is a massive jamboree of manic networkers and  job-seekers, SNTS is quiet, dignified and unashamedly academic. There are main papers (in English, French and German!), and seminars on a variety of topics (again in three languages). Most of the papers are circulated in advance, so there is plenty of time for high-level discussion – though this can be rather intimidating if you are giving a paper! I’m giving my paper on Herod (see earlier blog), and also a report on the Society’s finances (I’m the treasurer), so it will be a busy few days.

What I really like about the conference is the sense that you get of NT studies being an international venture, not just an English language pheonomenon. And this year promises to be particularly good as three of the main papers are being given by distinguished female colleagues (which makes a nice change): Adela Yarbro Collins (the next President), Elizabeth Struthers Malbon, and Loveday Alexander.

If anyone’s interested in the conference, the Berlin organisers’ website is http://www2.hu-berlin.de/snts2010/index.html

[Sara Parvis writes]  A few thoughts on the interface between New Testament studies and Patristics. 

All of us in CSCO are (perhaps more by accident than by design, perhaps not) historians. We love poking around in the details of early Christianity. Where, when and by whom (and on what) were texts written and read, copied and circulated, stored or thrown away? Who met whom, what fights did they have, and what did their Christianity mean to them? How fast did Christianity grow, whom did it attract, how was it organised? How seriously was it taken in wider Late Antique society? And what did its early leaders think they were doing?

For Patrists, at least, such historical questions quickly begin to include also theological ones. You can’t really study Christian origins without having at least a view on where you expect to end up, even if you are prepared to be proved wrong by the evidence. That key question, for example: was there an ‘orthodox’ Christianity before Constantine?

There are at least two ways of answering ‘yes’ to that question (I’ll leave it to others to consider how many ways there are of answering ‘no’). One is to say that it was always clear what Christians should rightly teach about Christ. The task is then to scrutinise all the evidence (writings, frescoes, tombstones etc.), congratulate all those who have come up with the right answers, patronise those who were nearly right but were over-optimistic about the Second Coming or something, and excoriate everyone else.

The other way of saying yes is to say that it was not always entirely clear at the time what should rightly be taught- that the broad outlines became clear fairly quickly in the light of the Resurrection, but that the implications continued to be fought out over a long period of time, with certain positions now and then being ruled out of order by the worldwide community as partial or not compatible with what earlier generations of Christians had collectively taught and believed.

Of course, historians will want to answer that history is messier than that- that chaos and diversity were the order of the day in the period before Constantine. Others will point out that history is written by the winners, and whether we think they stamped out all traces of alternative views or that the latter simply withered for lack of elite, literate sponsorship, the ‘orthodoxy’ peddled by the likes of Irenaeus was a minority view that it suited the state-sponsored bishops of the fourth century to endorse.

If we might define Patrists, very broadly, as those who believe that the post-New Testament church did come to some important conclusions about the nature of orthodoxy, and that we are here to teach and argue over what those conclusions actually were, it has often been the New Testament scholars who remind us just how perilous this enterprise usually is.

(Helen Bond) Larry’s post showed that one of the things we are interested in at the Centre for Christian Origins (CSCO) is what’s often called the ‘world of the NT’ – the general context in which the Jesus movement emerged. Almost everything we know about this context, though, at least in Palestine, comes from the Jewish author Flavius Josephus. I’ve always thought that before we can even begin to reconstruct first century Jewish history we need to know how to interpret Josephus. And forays into Josephus research have been part of my scholarship for many years now.

My particular interest at the moment is in Josephus’ description of Herod the Great in his Jewish War. It takes up a large section of book 1 and has a rather articficial, unchronological structure: Herod’s rise to power, heroism and loyalty to Rome, a eulogy on the king, then a detailed description of the king’s slavery to his passion for Mariamne and the deterioration of his household. I’m giving a paper at the SNTS next week (more on this conference later) in which I hope to argue that the structure is down to a dual concern in Josephus. (1) In line with the thesis of the whole of the work, he wants  to present the famous King Herod (and Jews more generally) as loyal to their Roman overlords. Herod was clearly an excellent example, and his love of Roman culture unsurpassed. (2) But Josephus, the Hasmonaean priest, could not present an entirely positive portrait of Herod. The second half I argue skillfully draws on common Roman stereotypes in an attempt to show that Herod was fundamentally unfit to reign. Again, this corresponds with his clear preference elsewhere that Judaea be governed by priests under the reign of God (a theocracy/hierocracy). This, I think, is why the two sides of Herod’s reign are kept distinct (the fact that descendants of Herod were in Rome maybe meant that he could not to be openly critical of the King, and anyway that would not have suited his purposes). In the Antiquities of the Jews,  Josephus no longer needs Herod as an example of heroism and loyalty (he has plenty enough of these from the Jewish scriptures) and so he integrates his material more fully, combining it with much more negative traditions and presenting the more commonly remembered harsh  portrait of the king. 

A further interesting element here is the story of King David. The HB similarly presents David’s rise to power (a rise which has a surprising number of  similarities to Herod’s), the King’s heyday, and then later decline as his household disintegrates around him. I very much doubt that Josephus modelled his portrait of Herod on David, but it is possible (as Tal Ilan has suggested) that he was described this way by Josephus’ main source, Herod’s adviser and confidante, Nicolaus of Damascus. My working hypothesis at the moment (drawing on some of the work of Mark Toher) is that Nicolaus presented Herod as a second David in his Universal History, which was writiten during Herod’s lifetime. I think the first half of the War draws on this account, perhaps as far as the eulogy in the middle. The second half, though, may draw on Nicolaus’ Autobiography, written after Herod’s death and in Rome. Clearly Nicolaus would still have been positively disposed towards his old patron, but his main concern now was to justify his own actions (including his part in the murder of Herod’s sons), and examples of Herod’s cruelty and paranoia may have been common.

We’ll have to see how the paper goes down next week!

(Larry Hurtado):  As the founding director of CSCO I’ll offer my take on what “Christian Origins” means (at least here), for those who may be wondering what the expression signifies, and how it relates to the more traditional “New Testament Studies” label.

First, “Christian Origins” signifies a strong historical orientation.  We’re trying to pursue historical questions, using historical reasoning, and treating all data and texts, including the NT texts (for the purposes of our investigations) primarily as historical artefacts of, or shedding light on, early Christianity.  This doesn’t represent any sort of anti-theological stance, or a criticism of the Christian regard for the NT as scripture, only a positive statement of the focus that we have for CSCO.

But this historical inquiry can take in a lot:  e.g., early Christian beliefs, structures, organization, social characteristics, religious practices, political stances, perceptions of Christians by others, relationship to the larger religious and cultural environment, gender-questions, early Christian symbols, “visual culture”, material artefacts (including manuscripts), and still more.

Chronologically, what comprises “Christian Origins”?  Well, when I was preparing for my PhD “comps” many years ago, I asked my supervisor (Prof. E.J. Epp) how widely I should prepare for the “comp” exam in NT/Christian Origins (a 6 hr written exam).  He answered that I should basically prepare to answer questions about anything from ca. 200 BCE to ca. 200 CE, including figures, ideas, developments, political, religious, texts, practices, etc.  We’ve agreed here that “NT Studies” chronologically must take in at least the first two centuries CE.  For although all or nearly all the NT texts were composed in the first century CE, they were collected and began clearly to acquire an acknowledged scriptural status across the second century CE.  So, in other words, it isn’t till ca. 200+CE that we begin to see the basic outlines of a “New Testament”, and surely “NT Studies” should take in this larger development.

In CSCO, our scope is even somewhat broader, because we have the benefit of excellent scholars in later centuries.  These include Dr. Sara Parvis (specializing in 4th-5th cents CE), and Honorary Fellows in the persons of Dr. Paul Parvis (special strengths in 2nd cent CE), and Prof. Emeritus Timothy Barnes (a well-known expert in Roman late antiquity and Christianity of this period, whose retirement from the University of Toronto and relocation to Edinburgh has enriched us). This interaction among scholars primarily expert in the NT and experts in cognate areas makes for a stimulating setting in which to study “Christian Origins”.

I contend that, even (perhaps especially) if one is interested in the NT texts in particular, it is highly useful to approach them in the perspective afforded by reading them in historical context.  A somewhat wider chronological horizon than the first century CE actually can enhance one’s perception of NT texts.  For example, the literary properties and emphases of the intra-canonical Gospels become much clearer when one takes account of the many other “Jesus books” of the first few centuries.

Likewise, early Christian texts, beliefs and practices are readily illuminated (as any scholar in the field will know) by taking account of the historical environment.  I think, for example, of the considerable benefits received from study of the Qumran texts (“Dead Sea Scrolls”).  This is certainly demanding, but for all of us here also terribly interesting.

(Helen Bond) Welcome to our new CSCO website! As the previous posting notes, we’re all going to take it in turns to introduce ourselves and our research over the next few weeks and the honour of going first seems to have fallen to me.

I got into biblical studies in the first place not primarily out of any particular Christian commitment (though I am a member of the Church of Scotland), but out of a fascination with ancient cultures and later their languages. I read Biblical Studies at the Universities of St Andrews, Durham, and Tuebingen; in the last two places I was lucky enough to work with Profs Jimmy Dunn and Martin Hengel, whose work I greatly admire.

I’m particularly interested in the gospels. First, in the historical background to the texts – both the historical Jesus, and the historical context of the gospels themselves. I don’t think that the evangelists were writing primarily to convey historical information (they had much more important truths to convey), but the eternally frustrating quest to piece together ‘what actually happened’  keeps me quite happy. My second interest is in the theological and literary presentations of the gospels, the way they present Jesus, and the way in which events and characters serve to promote their Christological views.

Both of these interests came together in my two books – the first on Pilate and the second on the high priest Caiaphas. Somehow I seem to be drawn to characters – not, I hope, in a naive hope that I can recover something of what they were really like, but as an umbrella under which I can look at a number of distinct but related studies (so for Pilate I was able to look at his coins, and the description of him in Philo and Josephus; and for Caiaphas I was able to look at the tomb that’s thought to be his, varying Christian traditions linked to his house, and his ‘afterlife’ throughout the centuries).

My interest in ‘bad guys’ is becoming a bit of a joke (did I mention that I edited a festschrift for Larry Hurtado?!), but I’m now doing something I vowed I would never do, and that’s writing a book on Jesus (for Continuum’s Guide for the Perplexed). I’m continually feeling overwhelmed at the amount of literature out there, but trying to piece the evidence together so that it makes sense in a first century context is indescribably exciting . . .