The Power of the Papacy in the Medieval World

Two primary texts from the medieval period, Pope Gregory VII’s Dictatus Papae (c.1090) and Pope Urban II’s speech at Council of Clermont (1095), raise questions about the relationship of the Christian church to structures of political authority and exercise of power in the medieval world. Specifically, both writings attest to the growing authority of the Papacy over both the Church and Empire. Historical research by scholars such as Justo L. Gonzalez in The Story of Christianity also helps elucidate the religious and political realities in which both Popes lived.[1] This paper will argue that the Dictatus Papae responded to political events of its time by asserting the Pope’s power over the Empire, and in turn, later provided the Papacy with the authority to call the First Crusade.

The Dictatus Papae was significant in that it affirmed and strengthened Papal authority.[2] It included general dictates, such as the Pope alone having the ability to depose, reinstate, or transfer bishops (3, 13), that nothing is canonical without his authority (17), he may not be judged or condemned by anyone (19-20), or that a synod cannot be called without his order (16). Dictate 22 makes the bold and challenging claim that “the Roman church has never erred; nor will it err to all eternity.” Dictate 23 declares that the Pope is automatically a saint by the merits of St. Peter.[3]

What the Dictatus does is give all ecclesiastical, canonical, Scriptural, and saintly authority to the incumbent Pope. Other dictates imbue him with imperial authority. In fact, dictate 8 declares that “he alone may use the imperial insignia,” dictate 9 declares “That of the pope alone all princes shall kiss the feet,” and perhaps most significant, dictate 12 strongly declares “That it may be permitted to him to depose emperors” (emphasis mine). This is an enormous amount of authority, effectively giving the Papacy power over both Church and Empire. This was not new however, as a mere two centuries before, Charlemagne was crowned by Pope Leo III, a power move signifying the Church’s authority over the ruling Emperor.

At this point, it is necessary to look at the alleged author of the Dictatus Papae to uncover why these dictates mattered. After the death of Pope Alexander, Hildebrand the monk was elected as Pope Gregory VII. He had already been engaged in reformation work for several years, and continued this during his Papacy. As Gonzalez notes, “His dream was of a world united under the papacy, as one flock under one shepherd.”[4] He also declared that the Bible should not be translated into the vernacular, as interpretation should lie with Rome, and undertook reforms such as clerical celibacy.[5] Each of these were significant power moves made by the Papacy. He also wanted to unite Europe, the Byzantine Church, and lands that were under Islamic rule, and wanted to “organize a great military offense against Islam… a project that two decades later would result in the Crusades.”[6]

Some of these reforms put the Papacy and Empire in direct conflict. Emperor Henry IV, in response to riots in Milan, deposed the bishop and appointed a new one. But as the Dictatus Papae declared, the Pope alone could depose and appoint, so Gregory ordered the Emperor to appear in Rome by a set date. If he did not, “he would be deposed and his soul condemned to hell.”[7] In turn, on Christmas Eve 1075, Gregory was attacked and taken prisoner, but eventually escaped. The Emperor then called a council and “declared that Gregory was deposed on grounds of tyranny, adultery, and the practice of magic… [and sent] notification of these decisions ‘to Hildebrand, not a pope, but a false monk.’”[8]

But Gregory did not give up his authority. Instead, he forbade anyone to obey Henry, denied his rule over Germany and Italy, and freed those who swore oaths to him.[9] Gregory later rescinded this for a while, but eventually re-excommunicated Henry. In turn, Henry marched on Rome, and Gregory went into exile. Henry elected a new Pope named Clement III. Gregory died in 1085, and said as his last words, “I have loved justice and hated iniquity. Therefore I die in exile.”[10] While the Dictatus Papae may not have been directly written by Gregory, it certainly reflects the spirit of his vision and reforms, as well as his back-and-forth political conflict with the Emperor. The dictates embody this historical struggle for power held by the Papacy. 

Gregory VII and the Dictatus Papae also laid the groundwork for Urban II, whom the reformers elected as Pope after the former’s death. He regained control of Rome and expelled Clement III. By continuing the Gregory’s policies and following the Dictatus, Urban came in conflict with several figures, such as Philip I of France. He excommunicated Philip on the grounds of adultery. Urban also had influence over Emperor Henry’s son, Conrad, and encouraged his rebellion. Conrad promised that if “he were made emperor he would give up any claim to the right to the appointment and investiture of bishops,” a reversal of the actions taken by his father.[11] These interactions show a power play between the Papacy and the Empire, shaped by the same theology and politics of authority in the Dictatus Papae. 

The influence of the Papacy’s power was alarmingly reaffirmed and strengthened at the Council of Clermont in 1095. Emperor Alexis I requested support against the Muslims Turks, and in response, Urban officially declared the First Crusade.[12] His speech as we have it was recorded by the chronicler, Fulcher of Chartres.”[13] In it, after describing conditions for Christians in the Holy Land, Urban declared, “On this account I, or rather the Lord, beseech… all people of whatever rank, foot-soldiers and knights, poor and rich, to carry aid promptly to those Christians and to destroy that vile race… Moreover, Christ commands it” (emphasis mine). Through his power and authority he also declared, “All who die by the way, whether by land or by sea, or in battle against the pagans, shall have immediate remission of sins. This I grant them through the power of God with which I am invested” (emphasis mine). 

Historian Mark A. Noll notes that while Urban II painted the Crusade as a rescue of the Holy Land from Islam, and the First Crusade did capture Jerusalem in 1099, the cost was very high.[14] Over the next few hundred years, Crusade after Crusade was declared through the power and authority of the Papacy, and led to the death of countless Jews, Muslims and Christians. The word “power” can carry with it rather strong connotations, but this is very much intentional when we speak of the power of the Papacy over the Empire and over the faithful. No doubt, both Pope Gregory VII and Urban II, as well as the author of the Dictatus Papae, believed they were carrying out the will of God and the good of Christendom. But it is also clear that the Pope, the Bishop of Rome, was quickly becoming more than just a religious figure.

The actions of both men and the dictates provided not only religious and ecclesiastical power, but also power over the Emperor that essentially made the Pope, and by proxy, the Catholic Church, the inheritors of a new Roman Empire. That is, while Rome may have fallen centuries before, it was symbolically reborn through the power and authority of the Pope, who became a sort of imperial ruler in his own way. The Pope held authority over the Byzantine Emperor, controlled which bishops were in office and influenced the faithful, excommunicated and condemned rulers whose political actions he did not condone, and also declared fairly brutal Crusades against entire peoples. The actions of these Popes paved the way for further conflicts over the next few hundred years, not only through the Crusades but also the division of the Church itself and ultimately led in part to the challenging of the Papacy in the Protestant Reformation.   

Endnotes

[1] Justo L. Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (New York: HarperOne, 2010.).; Mark A. Noll, Turning Points: Decisive Moments in the History of Christianity, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012.).
[2] The exact authorship is unclear. In 1087, Cardinal Deusdedit published a collection of Church laws. Due to striking similarities, “some have argued the Dictatus must have been based on it… [but there] is little doubt that it [does] express the pope's principals” (Pope Gregory VII. Dictatus Papae (1090). Trans. Ernest F. Henderson. Select Historical Documents of the Middle Ages (London: George Bell and Sons, 1910), 366-367.). As such, the assumption is here made that it represents the reforms and vision of Pope Gregory VII.
[3] The dictate specifies that this is based on the witness of St. Ennodius of Pavia, the decrees of Pope St. Symmachus, and other “holy fathers,” along with inheriting the role from St. Peter. It thus intentionally roots itself in tradition to assert its authority.
[4] Gonzalez, Story of Christianity, 337.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid., 338.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid., 339.
[10] Ibid., 340.
[11] Ibid., 341.
[12] Ibid., 346.
[13] “Urban II: Speech at Council of Clermont, 1095, according to Fulcher of Chartres” in Bongars, Gesta Dei per Francos, trans. in Oliver J. Thatcher, and Edgar Holmes McNeal, eds., A Source Book for Medieval History (New York: Scribners, 1905), 513-17.
[14] Mark A. Noll, Turning Points: Decisive Moments in the History of Christianity (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012), 222-223.

Bibliography

Gregory VII. Dictatus Papae (1090). Trans. Ernest F. Henderson. Select Historical Documents of the Middle Ages. London: George Bell and Sons, 1910, 366-367.

Justo L. Gonzalez. The Story of Christianity Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation. New York: HarperOne, 2010.

Mark A. Noll. Turning Points: Decisive Moments in the History of Christianity. 3rd ed. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012.

“Urban II: Speech at Council of Clermont, 1095, according to Fulcher of Chartres” in Bongars. Gesta Dei per Francos. Trans. in Oliver J. Thatcher, and Edgar Holmes McNeal, eds., A Source Book for Medieval History. New York: Scribners, 1905. 513-17. 

Irenaeus of Lyon, Recapitulation, and the Nature of Christ

The nature of Jesus Christ was one of the most controversial theological discussions in early Christianity, and was progressively defined over the centuries through creeds and councils. Irenaeus of Lyon (c.130-200 CE), an early Christian writer, attempted to reconcile the human and divine natures of Christ. He lived in a pre-Nicene world, so it was left to individual authors, not creeds and councils, to advance Christological thought. In his work Adversus Haereses (c.180 CE), he challenges Gnostic Christology. According to Irenaeus, Gnostics viewed Jesus as fully divine, but rejected his humanity. In the view of some, for example, he only appeared human, but on the cross he suffered no pain (a Docetic view).[1] In response, Irenaeus contends that Jesus was both fully divine and fully human. Further, he argues that through his life as a human, Jesus “recapitulates” the life of Adam, and frees humanity from sin.[2]

Irenaeus did not set out to engage in philosophical debates or speculative argumentation. He was a pastor and bishop, and was writing to refute Gnosticism, which he saw as a heresy.[3] At this time, Gnosticism was rapidly spreading into the west in places such as Lyon, France, where Irenaeus was serving.[4] He believed that the Gnostics were distorting the core of Christian identity and theology, and wrote to address it as a pastoral issue. As indicated, according to Irenaeus, Gnostics claimed that “Christ suffered in appearance only.”[5] He responded, “If he did not really suffer, it is no credit to him, since there was no passion.”[6] He also affirms the humanity of Jesus throughout his text, noting that Jesus “became a human being subject to hurt,” that “he was enfleshed and became a human being,” and that “Christ himself suffered.”[7-8]

Irenaeus also notes that if Jesus merely “flew away” and did not feel pain, it does not fit the narrative in which Jesus tells his disciples to carry their cross and follow him. In other words, he says, “If it was not the Christ himself who was going to suffer…. why did he exhort his followers…. [if] he himself did not carry it but rejected suffering as a part of his work?”[9] This theme of suffering makes little sense with the Docetic perspective that many Gnostics (or at least "Docetists") held. In his time, Irenaeus was aware of many who had been martyred as Christians, and undoubtedly this was tied into his understanding of suffering. If Jesus did not himself take up the cross, why would his followers be compelled to?

Irenaeus’ soteriological position could be articulated as such: since humanity is enslaved by sin, redemption must come from one of the same nature (human), but this being must also be divine in order to maintain the salvific action.[10] This is also integrally tied to his theme of “Recapitulation.” For Irenaeus, Christ’s purpose in recapitulating Adam is to live out a human relationship with God as originally intended. Being human and divine, Jesus unites both natures in his own person through his life. In his Incarnation, then, Christ “sums up and recapitulates all that humanity is and will be for God.”[11] The view that Jesus is a Second Adam of sorts did originated in the Pauline corpus itself (see Romans and 1st Corinthians). Irenaeus expands on this Pauline thought, using antithetical parallelism to show that “what we had lost in Adam… we might recover in Christ Jesus.”[12-13] Note that for Irenaeus, it is Jesus life that is integral to this recapitulation, not necessarily his death and resurrection - and he could not have recapitulated Adam if he did not share in human nature. Jesus reverses the original disobedience of Adam by his very life.[14] 

While Irenaeus makes a strong case, there are also a few weaknesses in his approach. The first weakness is his view that “The Word, having been made flesh… went through every stage of human life, restoring all of them to communion with God.”[15] In one sense, he did endure many aspects of humanity, including birth, family life, work, community, death, and others. But it would not be proper to say that Jesus went through “every stage of human life.” He died in his early 30’s, and never experienced middle age or old age (including old age related illnesses). He did not - so far as we are aware - marry and have children, although there appears to be later Christian speculation on that point. He also incarnated as a male, and never experienced what life was like at that time for females. There are a vast range of realities and identities and that Jesus never experienced in life, so while this does not discount Irenaeus’ argument about recapitulating Adam based on Jesus’ life as a human, his point about living “every stage” is rather moot.

Another weakness for Irenaeus is also one of his major guiding frameworks, that is, the New Testament (NT) canon.[16] He frequently cites these texts, which held authority to the pre-Nicene Christianity of Irenaeus.[17] However, he is appealing to texts that Gnostics do not consider authoritative, particularly the canonical Gospels.[18] This would be a case of circular reasoning, appealing to a textual authority that they did not recognize as authoritative. Irenaeus is also writing as an outsider, and not having firsthand experience of the Gnostic texts and community, he appears to only know through word of mouth what they believed. He also did a disservice to Christian Gnosticism by lumping all the various expressions and branches together, including Docetism, which could be seen on its own terms. Thus, Irenaeus is writing from and espousing a limited perspective on Gnosticism, which can be seen as one of his weaknesses.

Despite these various weakness, Irenaeus stood in a line of early Christians such as Justin Martyr who helped to shape the pre-Nicene and proto-orthodox expression of Christology. Others followed in Irenaeus’ theological footsteps and took up the cause, debating with Arians, Donatists, Nestorians, and other varieties of early Christianity.[19] His theology of Recapitulation continued to be influential, and his Against Heresies was one of the few entry points we had into the world of Gnosticism prior to the recovery of texts at Nag Hammadi, Egypt in 1945.[20] Irenaeus of Lyon may not have been perfect in his grasp of Gnosticism or in its articulation, but it can be said that he successfully wrote as a pastor protecting his “flock,” just as he viewed Jesus as the shepherd who watches over his people - a shepherd who was, in his view, both fully human and fully divine.
 

Endnotes

[1] This Docetic view is also reflected in a number of apocryphal works of the time, such as the Gospel of Peter, the Apocalypse of Peter, the Acts of John, the Gospel of Judas, and others. 
[2] Norris, Richard A., trans. The Christological Controversy: Sources of early Christian Thought (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980), 57.
[3] Gonzalez, Justo L. The Story of Christianity Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (New York: HarperOne, 2010), 84.
[4] Carter, J. Kameron. "Prelude on Christology and Race: Irenaeus as Anti‐Gnostic Intellectual." In Race: A Theological Account, Chapter 2 (Oxford University Press, 2008), 14.
[5] Norris, 53.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid., 49.
[8] Ibid., 51.
[9] Ibid., 52.
[10] Ibid., 54.
[11] Ibid., 12.
[12] Irenaeus also develops the thought further than Paul, by discussing Mary as a Second Eve. As noted by Mark A. Noll, for Irenaeus, “Mary’s faithful service was viewed as recaptiulating Eve’s unfaithfulness” (Noll, Mark A. Turning Points: Decisive Moments in the History of Christianity. 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012), 117.).
[13] Norris 49.
[14] Irenaeus is writing nearly two centuries before Augustine of Hippo, so Irenaeus’ concept of Adam’s disobedience is not articulated in the same manner as Augustine’s later concept of Original Sin.
[15] Norris 54.
[16] It may be better to speak of a proto-canon, as the canon as it came to be was not formed yet. Irenaeus was among the first to consider the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John as canonical (Noll 59).
[17] Such as Matthew, John, Romans, and 1st Corinthians, and others.
[18] This is not true in every case. Marcion kept the gospel of Luke in his canon (or proto-canon), but took out large pieces of it that referred to or directly quoted from the Hebrew Bible.
[19] Irenaeus does discuss other “heresies” in his work, such as the Ebionites, but that is beyond the purview of this paper.
[20] Before this find, we were aware of texts such as the Gospel of Thomas, but it was really only the Gospel of Peter and the Gospel of Mary that had been rediscovered in prior years and seemed to hold a Gnostic perspective. This is similar to what occurred with the Gospel of Judas, in that we were aware of a text bearing that name by a reference from Irenaeus, but did not have access to it until it was discovered in the late 20th century, and finally published in 2006. 

Bibliography

Carter, J. Kameron. “Prelude on Christology and Race: Irenaeus as Anti‐Gnostic Intellectual.” In Race: A Theological Account, Chapter 2 (Oxford University Press, 2008).

Gonzalez, Justo L. The Story of Christianity Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (New York: HarperOne, 2010).

Noll, Mark A. Turning Points: Decisive Moments in the History of Christianity. 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012).

Norris, Richard A., trans. The Christological Controversy: Sources of early Christian Thought (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980).

"Deceit" in Abrahamic Wife-Sister Narratives

 Introduction

Does the Bible prohibit lying? According to Revelation 21:8, “as for… all liars, their place will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”[1] This stern New Testament condemnation clearly takes a firm stance against lying. Other Christian texts yield similar warnings, but is that stance also employed in the Hebrew Bible?[2] There are two narratives in Genesis 12 and 20 in which the patriarch tells his wife to lie to a foreign ruler and claim she is his sister.[3] This paper will examine "biblical deceit" through these Abrahamic Wife-Sister narratives, in dialogue with Augustine of Hippo and Shira Weiss’ ethical views. I will argue that though it preserved Abraham’s sense of security, the lie was unethical because it dishonored Sarah and left her at risk for potential exploitation and harm.  

Abrahamic Wife-Sister Narratives

In the first narrative, Abram and his wife Sarai move to Egypt during a famine, and he tells her to say she is only his sister.[4] He fears his death because of her beauty, and asks her to lie “so that it may go well with me because of you, and that my life may be spared on your account” (12:13). Sarai’s physical well-being is not considered, only Abram’s fear-driven sense of security. When God sends plagues on the Egyptians, Pharaoh asks Abram why he lied, provides from them and sends them away. In the second narrative, the couple move to Gerar, where they repeat the lie. God appears to the king Abimelech in a dream and shares that Sarah is Abraham’s wife. God did not allow him to touch her, and commends the king for his integrity of heart (20:6). When Abimelech demands an explanation, Abraham repeats the reasoning he gave to Pharaoh, and adds that Sarah is truthfully his half-sister (20:12), but also his wife.[5] They are then provided for and settle in the land.

Ancient and Modern Views of Deception

What are we to make of these narratives of "biblical deceit?" One theologian who commented on the narratives was Augustine of Hippo (c.354-430 CE). He defines a liar as someone “who has one thing in his mind and utters another in words.”[6] That is, lies are uttered words. Did Abraham and Sarah lie by what was not said? Augustine believes that one must tell the truth, but not necessarily the whole truth. When Abraham says Sarah is his sister, but doesn’t reveal that she is his wife, he is not technically lying. She is his half-sister, but she is also his wife. In Augustine’s eyes, telling a half-truth or partial truth is not a lie because he did not say “she is not my wife.” Augustine thus pardons the patriarch’s lie, and shows no concern for Sarah’s well being.

In her 2017 article, “The Ethics of Deception in Biblical Narrative”, Shira Weiss asks if Abraham acts ethically when identifying Sarah as his sister.[7] She examines the story through several philosophical and ethical lenses, and notes that through the lie, Abraham sacrificed Sarah’s honor.[8] Weiss adds that Abraham’s “lack of explicit moral concern about [Sarah] being taken by another man… implies that the foreign kings have greater moral concern than [Abraham]”.[9] In fact his lie shows a lack of faith in divine protection, and also exhibits “his fear and greed, as it permitted his wife’s philandering in order to save his own life.”[10] Weiss thus takes the position that Abraham’s lie was unethical for many reasons, including the total disregard for his wife’s honor and safety.

Conclusion

Was Abraham morally wrong in lying? Augustine would argue that he did not lie through his uttered words, but one would counter that there was still a deceptive intent. Weiss would add that it was unethical as it dishonored Sarah, and also showed the foreign rulers to have the moral high ground. Indeed, Abraham’s fear may have been without merit. While one cannot know whether the Pharaoh or Abimelech would have killed him or tried to exploit her of their own will, Abraham’s lack of concern for his wife’s honor and dignity is unethical. Though the dignity of women may not always have been held in high regard during Genesis’ proposed compositional history, if one is to apply modern ethical concepts to the text, concerns about Sarah’s bodily, emotional, and psychological well-being are important and not to be dismissed.

Each case of "biblical deceit" should be considered on its own terms, as the Hebrew Bible arguably does not depict a universal view of lying. Was Rahab morally justified in lying to hide the Israelites? Was Esther acting ethically to protect her people? Did Tamar act justly in her seduction of Judah? Do the ends justify the means? These are broader questions that go beyond the purview of this paper, and questions of deceit in biblical literature, as well as definitional and ethical questions, are open to discussion and often dependent on one’s theological and philosophical perspective. Was it wrong for Abraham to protect himself with a lie? Perhaps self-protection on its own is not unethical, but when that lie’s consequences could have threatened Sarah, it became wrong. One can conclude that while lies are permissible in some circumstances, they are ethically wrong in others, as in the Wife-Sister narratives.

Endnotes

[1] All biblical references from The Harper Collins Study Bible New Revised Standard Version with the Apocryphal / Deuterocanonical Books. Ed. Wayne A. Meeks. HarperCollinsPublishers. 1993.
[2] This is not to say that lies do not appear in the New Testament as well. It has fewer narrative deceits but more literary deceits, namely the Pseudo-Pauline epistles.
[3] There is a third Wife-Sister narrative of deceit in Gen. 26:1-33 with Isaac and his wife Rebekah.
[4] Abram and Sarai are later known as Abraham and Sarah, but have not yet been renamed by God in this first narrative.
[5] It is also possible that this claim is a later literary insertion by one of the compilers to justify or to make Abraham seem less unethical in his deceit.
[6] Augustine, “On Lying” 3, trans. Rev. H. Browne in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 3, ed. Philip Schaff (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1887), 458.
[7] Shira Weiss, "The Ethics of Deception in Biblical Narrative" (Journal of Jewish Ethics 3, no. 1, 2017): 1.
[8] Ibid., 10.
[9] Ibid., 9.
[10] Ibid.

Bibliography

Augustine, “On Lying”, trans. Rev. H. Browne in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 3. Ed. Philip Schaff. Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1887.

Shira Weiss. "The Ethics of Deception in Biblical Narrative." Journal of Jewish Ethics 3, no. 1 (2017): 1-27.

The Harper Collins Study Bible New Revised Standard Version with the Apocryphal / Deuterocanonical Books. Ed. Wayne A. Meeks. HarperCollinsPublishers. 1993.

Preservation of Pauline Tradition in the Acts of Paul and Thecla

Dennis Ronald MacDonald’s book, The Legend and The Apostle: The Battle for Paul in Story and Canon, explores the early Pauline traditions found in the Acts of Paul and Thecla (AoPT).[1] This paper will explain and defend the AoPT in its historical value as a witness to the development of those traditions and legends. MacDonald contends that “the Pastoral Epistles have distorted our image of Paul, even for those of us who recognize them as pseudonymous.”[2] Indeed, many scholars still view the Pastorals in the New Testament as the normative Pauline expression for post-Pauline communities, but MacDonald holds that we should not make this assumption. The primary thrust of his book is that “the author of the Pauline Epistles wrote in Paul’s name to counteract the image of Paul as given in stories told by women,” such as those found in the AoPT.[3]

The AoPT (c.150-190 CE) is known in scholarly circles for a variety of reasons. It bears witness to a Pauline tradition of celibacy, vegetarianism, and renunciation. It describes the martyrdom of Paul in Rome under Emperor Nero in folkloric detail. Most significantly for MacDonald, it attests to the importance of women in some Pauline traditions, as embodied in the figure of Thecla. He argues that the AoPT lends credence to a tradition of early Christian women who, citing the example of Thecla trained and commissioned by Paul, were teaching, preaching and baptizing. As a result, writers such as Tertullian (160-240 CE) argued against the AoPT, contending that women should not be engaged in teaching, preaching, or baptizing.

Tertullian claimed that it was a presbyter from Asia Minor who wrote the AoPT “for love of Paul,” and had concocted the stories found therein.[4] Once he was discovered, this presbyter was made to denounce his writing and give up his office.[5] However, MacDonald says, while Tertullian was likely correct about the association with Asia Minor, he was incorrect in claiming that the presbyter invented these stories. MacDonald describes three distinct legends that he believes originated as oral tradition prior to being written down in the AoPT. These are the Thecla, Ephesus, and Martyrdom stories. There are likely other oral traditions present, but these three were among the most prominent, and attest to the historical value of the AoPT in preserving these traditions which may otherwise have been lost.

Thecla (10th c., Menologion of Basil II)

The first story describes the virgin Thecla, who is soon to wed a man named Thamyris. She hears Paul preaching and is captivated by his words, but is eventually taken to the governor for not marrying Thamyris and not heeding her mother Theocleia’s wishes. Thecla is tied up to be burnt at the stake, but a hailstorm stops the fire. She returns to Paul, and declares that she will cut her hair short as a man’s and follow him, and then goes on to Antioch. There, Thecla encounters the Syrian leader Alexander, who wants her for himself, but she refuses him and is condemned to die by the beasts. Queen Tryphaena cares for her in the interim, and once she is with the wild beasts, Thecla baptizes herself in a pool of seals - who were just struck by lightning. She survives all of this and more, sews her garment to look like a man’s cloak, and goes to see Paul. Paul commissions her to go and teach the word of God. In this Pauline tradition it is a woman, not Paul, who takes center stage.

The Ephesus story, otherwise known as Paul and the Lion, may be a Christian version of the Androclus and the Lion, a Roman story roughly contemporary with the AoPT.[6] MacDonald argues that “the story of Paul and the Ephesian lion can claim more antiquity than any other,” and that traces of these can also be found within the Pastoral epistles.[7] In the AoPT, while in Ephesus, Paul encounters a talking lion who wishes to be baptized, and after he is baptized, takes his leave to return to his lioness - but chooses to remain chaste, following Paul’s example. Later on, Paul faces the same lion who has been captured for Paul to be fed to. They recognize each other, and the lion refuses to eat him. One of the canonical Pastoral letters also references Paul’s rescue from a lion’s mouth, which may be an allusion to this legend (2nd Timothy 4:16-17).

The third story is that of Paul’s martyrdom. Stories of his death were known to the author of Luke-Acts, Clement of Rome, and Ignatius.[8] Patroclus, cupbearer to Nero, falls to his death from a high window while listening to Paul preach. Paul heals him, and once he returns to Nero, Patroclus incites the emperor’s anger by calling Jesus his King. Paul is caught and sentenced to death by beheading, and when he is, milk splashes out of his head onto the soldier’s tunic. The spirit of Paul later appears to Nero, and also to Luke and Titus. Of interest for MacDonald is the figure of Barsabas Justus who also appears in the story. He is known from the Acts of the Apostles, and later referenced by Eusebius, who said that Barsabas Justus was forced to drink poison and was saved. MacDonald writes, “If we are correct in linking the two stories, at least one episode of the martyrdom story… was known several decades before… [it] was written. Perhaps the longer ending of Mark also reflects a knowledge of this story…. [it] was already known to Justin Martyr and Tatian, and therefore must have been written before the second half of the second century.”[9]

MacDonald concludes that these three stories were evidently known to the 2nd century presbyter from Asia Minor who wrote the AoPT, and that he appropriated the oral traditions for his text. MacDonald also demonstrates the orality of the legends by looking at their folkloric content - Thecla baptized with the lightning-struck seals, Paul and the talking lion, milk splashing out from Paul’s head - and “their conformity to the conventions of oral narratives.”[10] Further, he contends that the author of the Pastoral Epistles knew these legends and betrays knowledge of each. He writes that “the Pastoral Epistles were written to contradict the image of Paul in popular legends - and… the legends were told by women to justify their celibate ministries.”[11]

The author of the Pastorals, in this view, sought to silence the women who were telling these legends. Thus, he forbade women to teach, except to teach young women to be housewives, and classified the oral traditions as “old wives tales.”[12] In contrast, the Thecla legend treats women sympathetically, and all men (besides, perhaps, Paul) contemptuously. MacDonald points out, “If the contents of any early Christian story suggests that its tellers were women, it is this one.”[13] As the AoPT likely came from Asia Minor, it is also not surprising that there were more women there than elsewhere in the proto-orthodox church at that time who were in leadership roles.[14]

Thus, between the Pastoral Epistles and the legends preserved in the AoPT, there are marked differences. Again, in the Pastorals, Paul forbids women to teach, while in the legends, he commissions them. In the Pastorals, women are saved through childbearing, but in the legends, those who remain chaste in all things are saved.[15] In the AoPT, Paul is a vegetarian, and uses water instead of wine for the Eucharist. The Pastorals reject both practices. The Pastorals also discuss bishops, deacons, presbyters and other offices of the church, while the legends are silent. MacDonald writes that this “silence is striking when we recall that the author of the Acts of Paul was himself a presbyter and subject to the authority of a bishop.”[16] However, he adds that the letters of Ignatius from the early 2nd century reveal that these two competing models were connected to historical conditions in the churches of Asia Minor.[17]

Though differences exist, there are also features common to both the Pastorals and the AoPT. For example, Paul gives a defense alone before the Gentiles, and is saved from the mouth of a lion. Due to their similarities, Ambrosiaster (5th century) commented on 2nd Timothy, noting that the characters of Alexander, Demas, and Hermogenes are mentioned in “other scriptures.”[18] In the 10th or 11th century, a scholar added the phrase “those things he suffered on Thecla’s behalf” to 2nd Timothy, as well as the names of Onesiphorus’ family members (who are only explicitly named in the AoPT).[19] Further, later editors altered the Pauline corpus. In fact, MacDonald writes, “all extant manuscripts of the corpus contain interpolations from a scribe who knew the Pastorals and who altered the text of Paul’s own letters,” such as in 1st Corinthians 11 and 14 and its stance on women.[20]

Despite the inclusion of the Pastorals in the New Testament canon, it did not stop the transmission of the legends found in the AoPT, or the text itself. Around 311 CE, Eusebius referred to the “Acts of Paul” as one of the “spurious books,” which indicates that the text was still widely circulated enough to have influence.[21] The AoPT was also quoted by Origen, and the Manicheans used it as scripture.[22] The various surviving manuscripts attest that it was translated into several languages, and it was part of the Book of Women in Syria (along with Ruth, Esther, Judith and Susanna).[23] The story of Paul’s martyrdom continued to be read on the day his death was commemorated, evidently from the AoPT.[24] The Greek Acts of Titus also draws on material from the AoPT.[25]

The influence of the Thecla story within the Pauline tradition and broader Christianity should not be understated either. For example, MacDonald notes that the name Thecla was not common in antiquity, but was popular with Christian women, and “especially common among virgins.”[26] Macrina Thecla, sister to Basil the Great and Gregory of Nyssa, was named after her.[27] Influence is also seen elsewhere, as in the 4th century, Methodius, bishop in Asia Minor, wrote in celebration and commemoration of Thecla in his Symposium. Theodore of Mopsuestia wrote an oration of Thecla, and Athanasius wrote a Life of St. Thecla. John Chrysostom cited Thecla in a sermon about simple dress.[28] Also in the 4th century, women who espoused celibacy were considered “new Thecla’s.”[29] Around the same time, Egeria (or Etheria), a Spanish nun, visited Thecla’s shrine in Seleucia, which MacDonald notes was “clearly the center of [her] cult .”[30] While there, Egeria “read the whole Acts of holy Thecla.”[31]

In the 5th century, the two-volume work known as the Life and Miracles of Saint Thecla began circulating, and by the 6th century, Emperor Justinian built a church to Thecla in Constantinople, and other churches followed in her honor.[32] In Asia Minor, Thecla’s name was invoked over monasteries and in inscriptions. In Antioch, a 4th century church was dedicated to Thecla, and a 5th century church in Iberia depicts Paul preaching to Thecla. Other depictions include a flask of holy oil, a fresco in a chapel, an ivory bas-relief, a relief on a sarcophagus, and a reference to Thecla in the Acts of Xanthippe and Polyxena.[33] Faustus, a Manichean teacher, argued that a passage in 1st Timothy could not have been written by Paul as it contradicted what Paul preached to Thecla.[34]

Had the author of the AoPT not written down these legends, they likely never would have achieved the same significance and may well have died out, which speaks to the text's historical value. Although alluded to in the Pastorals, the legends find fuller expression and narrative form in the AoPT, and would be lost to us if not preserved therein. The continued influence of the legends attests to its historical value as well. The story of Paul’s martyrdom in Rome continued to be told in churches, and is still discussed today. While the Ephesus story may have had less influence than another more famous Biblical story of a lion, the story of Thecla undoubtedly retained influence in the church. Even though the Acts of Paul and Thecla did not end up in the New Testament canon, its impact still reverberates and carries with it an early Pauline tradition of renunciation and chastity, and one where women could also teach and preach. The text is still being translated and commented on today, and while it will likely never reach the degree of exposure or influence that the Pastoral Epistles have, the very fact that it still exists today attests to its historical value and continued importance in early Pauline and Christian studies.

Endnotes

[1] MacDonald, Dennis Ronald. The Legend and the Apostle: The Battle for Paul in Story and Canon (Philadelphia, PA: Westminister Press, 1983).
[2] Ibid., 15.
[3] Ibid., 14.
[4] Ibid., 17.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Ibid., 21. The story of Paul and the lion is also referenced by Hippolytus in his commentary on Daniel (c.204 CE), Jerome also mentions the story, and even by the 14th century it was still referenced, as in Church History by Nicephorus Callistus (Wilhelm Schneemelcher, ed., trans. by R. McL. Wilson, New Testament Apocrypha: Writings Relating to the Apostles Apocalypses and Related Subjects (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1992), 214-215).
[7] Ibid., 23.
[8] Ibid., 23-24.
[9] Ibid., 24.
[10] Ibid., 33.
[11] Ibid., 77.
[12] Ibid. This phrase and language is smoothed over in some translations to removed the reference to women.
[13] Ibid., 36.
[14] Ibid., 37.
[15] Ibid., 59.
[16] Ibid., 69.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Ibid., 62.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Ibid., 86.
[21] Eusebius, The History of the Church 3.25, in Eusebius, The History of the Church from Christ to Constantine (Trans. G.A. Williamson. Harmondsworth: Dorset Press, 1984), 134.
[22] MacDonald 90.
[23] Ibid.
[24] Ibid.
[25] Schneemelcher, 219.
[26] MacDonald, 95.
[27] Ibid., 91.
[28] Ibid.
[29] Ibid., 53.
[30] Ibid., 93.
[31] Ibid.
[32] Ibid., 92.
[33] Ibid., 94-95.
[34] Ibid., 95.