Sunday, March 17, 2024

Sparser Spartans

by Damien F. Mackey “Hugo Jones writes that the Spartans held in the highest regard a certain ancient law-giver, much like Moses the law-giver of Israel. The Spartans celebrated new moons (Rosh Chodesh), and unlike their Greek counterparts, even a seventh day of rest! Of course, the Spartans themselves were very different from other Greeks, particularly those in Athens, whom Sparta often battled”. Mayim Achronim According to King Arius of Sparta, his people shared a common ancestry with the Jews through Abraham. I Maccabees 12:19-23: This is a copy of the letter that they sent to Onias: ‘King Arius of the Spartans, to the high priest Onias, greetings. It has been found in writing concerning the Spartans and the Jews that they are brothers and are of the family of Abraham. And now that we have learned this, please write us concerning your welfare; we on our part write to you that your livestock and your property belong to us, and ours belong to you. We therefore command that our envoys report to you accordingly’. Given that Abraham was, as according to the meaning of his new name: “The Father of many nations” (Genesis 17:5): “Your name will no longer be Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I will make you the father of many nations”, then the task of identifying a more specific relationship between the Jews and the Spartans is not an easy one. Legend tends to favour that the Spartans were descended from Abraham through his wife, Keturah. A seemingly semi-mythological example of this tradition is given at: https://www.mayimachronim.com/when-jews-and-greeks-were-brothers-the-untold-story-of-chanukah/ Greek Sons of Abraham Sometime in the 2nd century BCE lived a Greek historian and sage named Cleodemus, sometimes referred to as Cleodemus the Prophet. He also went by the name Malchus which, because of its Semitic origins, makes some scholars believe he could have been Jewish. Cleodemus wrote an entire history of the Jewish people in Greek. While this text appears to have been lost, it is cited by others, including Josephus (Antiquities, i. 15). Cleodemus commented on Abraham’s marriage to Keturah (typically identified with Hagar), and their children. This is recorded in Genesis 25, which begins: And Abraham took another wife, and her name was Keturah. And she bore him Zimran, and Yokshan, and Medan, and Midian, and Ishbak, and Shuach. And Yokshan begot Sheva and Dedan. And the sons of Dedan were Ashurim, and Letushim, and Leumim. And the sons of Midian were Ephah, and Epher, and Chanokh, and Avidah, and Elda’ah. All these were the children of Keturah. And Abraham gave all that he had to Isaac, while to the sons of the concubines that Abraham had, Abraham gave gifts, and he sent them away from Isaac, while he was still alive, to the east country. Abraham had six children with Keturah, from which came at least seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren which the Torah names explicitly. The Torah then makes it clear that Abraham gave everything that he had to Isaac—including the Covenant with God and the land of Israel—while the others received gifts and were sent away from the Holy Land. Cleodemus suggests that Epher (or another child named Yaphran), the great-grandson of Abraham, migrated to Africa—which is where the term “Africa” comes from! (This is particularly interesting because Epher was the son of Midian, and Tziporah the wife of Moses was a Midianite, and is described as a Cushite, or African/Ethiopian.) Cleodemus states that Epher, Yaphran, and Ashurim assisted the Greek hero Hercules in one of his battles. Following this, Hercules married one of their daughters—a great granddaughter of Abraham—and had a son with her. This son was Diodorus, one of the legendary founders of Sparta! …. [End of quote] Others, such as Steven M. Collins, narrow all of this down considerably more by identifying the Spartans as actual Jews (descendants of Abraham), even specifying that they were of the tribe of Simeon. And so we read at: https://stevenmcollins.com/the-spartan-israelites-who-halted-the-persian-empire/ THE SPARTAN ISRAELITES WHO HALTED THE PERSIAN EMPIRE by Steven M. Collins | Sep 17, 2018 | Ten Tribes - Ancient History Many readers have, no doubt, seen the movie, 300, starring Gerard Butler which was released a number of years ago. It tells the inspiring story of King Leonidas of Sparta, who led 300 of his Spartan warriors to the pass at Thermopylae circa 480 BC to block the path of the immense Persian army under Xerxes that was descending upon Greece. Their noble sacrifice in the battle of Thermopylae inspired all of Greece and bought time for the various city-states to organize a resistance to the Persian invasion. The aforementioned movie is drenched in graphic and bloody combat scenes and is outlandish at times (especially in its portrayal of Xerxes), but the self-sacrifice of the martial Spartan detachment inspires people still today. That movie also is laughably inaccurate in its portrayal of the Spartan warriors, who are presented as soldiers who went to war with appropriate armaments but dressed only in capes and leather loincloths. There was an earlier movie, The 300 Spartans, released in 1961 starring Richard Egan, which told the same story but it showed the Spartans dressed and armored in a much more realistic manner. However, it dated to a time when Hollywood presented war movies in a very sanitized way where the battle scenes were acted out with very little blood being shown. In both my books (available at the homepage of this website) and an article, I make the case that the Spartan warriors were Israelites from the Israelite tribe of Simeon, which, like the Spartans, was known for being warlike and ruthless. According to the book of First Maccabees, a Spartan king acknowledged in a letter to a Jewish High Priest that the Jews and Spartans were “kinsmen” and fellow descendants of Abraham. If so, where is the historic connection between the two groups of people? The Bible actually does offer us a solid historical context where the Spartans could have originated from a group of Israelites that branched off from the rest of the Israelite tribes. In the book of Numbers, there are two separate censuses taken of the Israelite tribes when they left Egypt. The first is in Numbers 1 and the second is in Numbers 26. The second census indicates that a majority of the tribe of Simeon left the Israelite encampment right after a chief Simeonite prince was executed by a Levite, Phineas, in Numbers 25. The context argues that Moses saw that so many people had left the Israelite encampment at that time that he decided to call for a second census to see how many had departed from the various tribes. If they had struck out on their own, one would expect the Simeonites to found a martial city or nation of their own…in other words, a city-state just like Sparta. History records that the Spartans had a different origin than the rest of the Greeks. The fact that the Spartan letter cited in I Maccabees records that the Spartans regarded themselves as kinsmen of the Jews and jointly descended from the patriarch, Abraham, is strong evidence that the Spartans had to be from a fellow Israelite tribe, but where had they originated? Since Numbers 25-26 confirms that most of the tribe of Simeon left the Israelite wilderness encampment circa 1410 BC, it makes sense that this warlike band of Simeonites would resurface later in history in a location other than the Promised Land. The origin of the city-state of Sparta is unknown, but it began to be noticed as an independent entity by at least the 11th or 10th century BC. Years ago, I wrote an article about the Spartan connection to the Israelite tribe of Simeon and I am including a link to that article. I urge all readers with an interest in history to read that article as it will enable you to see ancient Greek and Mediterranean history in an entirely new light. As a side-bar, I’d like to note that there was an earlier “Brave Three Hundred” warrior group which was mentioned in the Bible. It is the group of 300 warriors that accompanied the hero, Gideon, when he, like Leonidas and his 300, fought against an immense army of invaders who came from the east (circa 1150 BC). The story of Gideon and his brave 300 warriors is told in Judges 6-7. Unlike Leonidas and his 300, Gideon and his 300 emerged victorious over the eastern host albeit with God’s intervention to grant the victory. Gideon and his 300 warriors were also Israelites. Leonidas and his 300 did not emerge victorious although their noble sacrifice has been honored throughout time. I cannot help but wonder how the story of Leonidas and his 300 holding the narrow pass at Thermopylae would have ended if they had not been sabotaged by a traitor who revealed a secret pass around the Spartan position to the Persians. Perhaps they might actually have won if it had not been for that betrayal. At the very least, they would have delayed the Persian host for a much longer period of time. [End of quote] I may be able to add another element that could bridge the long chronological gap for the Spartans, as descendants of Abraham, to a connection with Moses. The Spartans looked back to a great Lawgiver called Lycurgus (Lykourgos), generally considered to be semi-mythical. Lycurgus is commonly compared with the Lawgiver supreme, Moses. Why? Because, as I think, Lycurgus was actually based on Moses. See e.g. my article: Moses and Lycurgus (11) Moses and Lycurgus | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Readers might pick up Moses likenesses also in the following by Ellen Lloyd (2023): https://www.ancientpages.com/2023/01/09/enigma-of-lycurgus-of-sparta-great-reformer-and-his-foundation-of-a-warlike-superior-state/ As we trace the ancient history of Sparta and Lycurgus, we learn he emerged during a deep crisis. According to Spartanophilic Xenophon, a disciple of Socrates and soldier who fought for Sparta against Athens, Lycurgus lived during the time of Heraclidae, around 1,000 B.C. Herodotus informs that Lycurgus “had brought the Spartans out of an era of extreme political disorder (kakonomotatoi) and into one of good order (eunomie), which in turn led to the city’s increased power. With the support of the Delphic oracle, Lycurgus changed “all the laws,” and created the gerousia, the ephorate, and the Spartan military organization (there is mention of the syssitia among the military institutions).” 3 Lycurgus “was able to persuade his fellow Spartans to introduce the comprehensive and compulsory educational cycle called the Agoge (agôgê, literally a ‘raising’, as of cattle). This system of education, training and socialisation turned boys into fighting men whose reputation for discipline, courage and skill was unsurpassed.” 4 Some scholars suggest the political reforms in Sparta introduced by Lycurgus were the earliest system of Greek citizen self-government. Many aspects Lycurgus system were strange to foreigners, and the Spartan rules and customs were radically different from the rest of the Hellenes. Perhaps this was also the goal because the Lycurgus altered decisively the psychological make-up of the citizens. The Spartans’ “own belief in their ideology was absolute. Throughout Spartan history there were very few defectors – or whingers.” 4 How Lycurgus came up with the laws is a mystery. Herodotus provides two entirely different versions of the Spartan lawgiver. One story tells Lycurgus received the laws directly from God Apollo. In another text, Herodotus ascribes the origins of Lycurgus’s laws to the Cretan constitution. Modern historians have long downplayed the role of Lycurgus in the history of Sparta. Still, in recent years scholars have argued the ancient lawgiver may have been of greater importance to the state than previously assumed. …. [Ends of quote] There is enough here to suggest, too, that the Spartans were foreigners in Greece. The first step, then, is to re-set Sparta in an Israelite direction by re-identifying the Lawgiver Lycurgus (c. 820 BC) as Moses (c. 1450 BC). The second step is to carry this re-orientation down into the Judges period, by seeing Leonidas and his 300 as a Greek appropriation of Gideon and his 300 (Judges 7). We read that Steven M. Collins had not missed this similarity (without making my connection): …. As a side-bar, I’d like to note that there was an earlier “Brave Three Hundred” warrior group which was mentioned in the Bible. It is the group of 300 warriors that accompanied the hero, Gideon, when he, like Leonidas and his 300, fought against an immense army of invaders who came from the east (circa 1150 BC). The story of Gideon and his brave 300 warriors is told in Judges 6-7. Unlike Leonidas and his 300, Gideon and his 300 emerged victorious over the eastern host albeit with God’s intervention to grant the victory. …. In e.g. my article: Not so ‘Hot Gates’ of Thermopylae (3) Not so ‘Hot Gates’ of Thermopylae | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu I suggested biblical antecedents for the so-called Battle of Thermopylae and the 300 Spartans. If Leonidas and his 300 are not taken from Gideon and his 300, wherein the name Gideon has become Grecised as Leonidas: [G]ID-EON = [L]EON-ID-AS then I’ll eat my hat. The third step is to recognise that: Admiral Lysander was probably an Egyptian (3) Admiral Lysander was probably an Egyptian | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Even The Iliad epic associated with the more obviously fictitious Sparta-ruling Menelaus has a biblical base: ‘Homeric’ borrowings from life of King Saul (4) 'Homeric' borrowings from life of King Saul | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu King Ahab and Agamemnon (4) King Ahab and Agamemnon | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Judith the Jewess and “Helen” the Hellene (4) Judith the Jewess and " Helen " the Hellene | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu

Not so ‘Hot Gates’ of Thermopylae

by Damien F. Mackey Morton Scott Enslin has intuitively referred to the Book of Judith’s Bethulia incident as the “Judean Thermopylae” (The Book of Judith: Greek Text with an English Translation, p. 80). Introductory Professor Paul Cartledge’s well written book about the alleged Battle of Thermopylae between the Spartans and the Persians in 480 BC holds firmly to the familiar line of British writers and historians that our Western civilisation was based front and centre upon the Greeks. Thus, for instance, he writes in his book, Thermopylae: The Battle That Changed the World (Macmillan, 2006, p. 4): “The Greeks were second to none in embracing that contrary combination of the ghastly and the ennobling, which takes us straight back to the fount and origin of Western culture and ‘civilization’ - to Homer’s Iliad, the first masterpiece of all Western literature; to Aeschylus’s Persians, the first surviving masterpiece of Western drama; to the coruscating war epigrams of Simonides and, last but most relevantly of all, to Herodotus’s Histories, the first masterpiece of Western historiography”. And this is not the only occasion in his book where professor Cartledge expresses such effusive sentiments. The problem is, however, that - as it seems to me, at least - these very foundations, these so-called ‘founts and origins’ of ‘Western culture and civilization’, had for their very own bases some significant non-Greek influences and inspirations. An important one of these non-Greek influences was the Book of Judith, traditionally thought to have been written substantially by the high-priest Joakim in c. 700 BC. Compare that to the uncertainty of authorship surrounding those major works labelled Homeric: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homer The Homeric Question—by whom, when, where and under what circumstances were the Iliad and Odyssey composed—continues to be debated. Broadly speaking, modern scholarly opinion falls into two groups. One holds that most of the Iliad and (according to some) the Odyssey are the works of a single poet of genius. The other considers the Homeric poems to be the result of a process of working and re-working by many contributors, and that "Homer" is best seen as a label for an entire tradition.[ …. On previous occasions I have suggested that parts of The Iliad had appropriated key incidents to be found in the Book of Judith, with ‘Helen’ taking her cue from the Jewish heroine, Judith. Accordingly, I have written: “As for Judith, the Greeks appear to have substituted this beautiful Jewish heroine with their own legendary Helen, whose ‘face launched a thousand ships’. Compare for instance these striking similarities (Judith and The Iliad): The beautiful woman praised by the elders at the city gates: "When [the elders of Bethulia] saw [Judith] transformed in appearance and dressed differently, they were very greatly astounded at her beauty" (Judith 10:7). "Now the elders of the people were sitting by the Skaian gates…. When they saw Helen coming … they spoke softly to each other with winged words: 'No shame that the Trojans and the well-greaved Achaians should suffer agonies for long years over a woman like this - she is fearfully like the immortal goddesses to look at'" [The Iliad., pp. 44-45]. This theme of incredible beauty - plus the related view that "no shame" should be attached to the enemy on account of it - is picked up again a few verses later in the Book of Judith (v.19) when the Assyrian soldiers who accompany Judith and her maid to Holofernes "marveled at [Judith's] beauty and admired the Israelites, judging them by her … 'Who can despise these people, who have women like this among them?'" Nevertheless: 'It is not wise to leave one of their men alive, for if we let them go they will be able to beguile the whole world!' (Judith 10:19). 'But even so, for all her beauty, let her go back in the ships, and not be left here a curse to us and our children'. The dependence of The Iliad upon the Book of Judith may go even deeper, though, to its very main theme. For, previously I had written: “Achilles Many similarities have been noted too between The Iliad and the Old Testament, including the earlier-mentioned likenesses between the young Bellerophon and Joseph. Again, Achilles' being pursued by the river Xanthos which eventually turns dry (Book 21) reminds one of Moses' drying up of the sea (Exodus 14:21). Was there really a person by the name of Agamemnon? [See Is Homer Historical? in Archaeology Odyssey, May/Jun 2004, pp. 26-35]. The interview of Professor Nagy of Harvard says ‘no, there wasn't’. Achilles’ fierce argument with Agamemnon, commander-in-chief of the Greeks, at Troy - Achilles' anger being the very theme of The Iliad [Introduction, p. xvi: "The Iliad announces its subject in the first line. The poem will tell of the anger of Achilleus and its consequences - consequences for the Achaians, the Trojans, and Achilleus himself"] - is merely a highly dramatized Greek version of the disagreement in the Book of Judith between Achior [a name not unlike the ‘Greek’ Achilles] and the furious Assyrian commander-in-chief, "Holofernes", at the siege of Bethulia, Judith's town”. And the famous Trojan Horse? I continued: “If the very main theme of The Iliad may have been lifted by the Greeks from the Book of Judith, then might not even the Homeric idea of the Trojan Horse ruse to capture Troy have been inspired by Judith's own ruse to take the Assyrian camp? [According to R. Graves, The Greek Myths (Penguin Books, combined ed., 1992), p. 697 (1, 2. My emphasis): "Classical commentators on Homer were dissatisfied with the story of the wooden horse. They suggested, variously, that the Greeks used a horse-like engine for breaking down the walls (Pausanias: i. 23. 10) … that Antenor admitted the Greeks into Troy by a postern which had a horse painted on it….Troy is quite likely to have been stormed by means of a wheeled wooden tower, faced with wet horse hides as a protection against incendiary darts…". (Pausanius 2nd century AD: Wrote `Description of Greece'.)]. What may greatly serve to strengthen this suggestion is the uncannily 'Judith-like' trickery of a certain Sinon, a wily Greek, as narrated in the detailed description of the Trojan Horse in Book Two of Virgil's Aeneid. Sinon, whilst claiming to have become estranged from his own people, because of their treachery and sins, was in fact bent upon deceiving the Trojans about the purpose of the wooden horse, in order "to open Troy to the Greeks". I shall set out here the main parallels that I find on this score between the Aeneid and the Book of Judith. Firstly, the name Sinon may recall Judith's ancestor Simeon, son of Israel (Judith 8:1; 9:2). Whilst Sinon, when apprehended by the enemy, is "dishevelled" and "defenceless", Judith, also defenseless, is greatly admired for her appearance by the members of the Assyrian patrol who apprehend her (Judith 10:14). As Sinon is asked sympathetically by the Trojans 'what he had come to tell …' and 'why he had allowed himself to be taken prisoner', so does the Assyrian commander-in-chief, Holofernes, 'kindly' ask Judith: '… tell me why you have fled from [the Israelites] and have come over to us?' Just as Sinon, when brought before the Trojan king Priam, promises that he 'will confess the whole truth' – though having no intention of doing that – so does Judith lie to Holofernes: 'I will say nothing false to my lord this night' (Judith 11:5). Sinon then gives his own treacherous account of events, including the supposed sacrileges of the Greeks due to their tearing of the Palladium, image of the goddess Athene, from her own sacred Temple in Troy; slaying the guards on the heights of the citadel and then daring to touch the sacred bands on the head of the virgin goddess with blood on their hands. For these 'sacrileges' the Greeks were doomed. Likewise Judith assures Holofernes of victory because of the supposed sacrilegious conduct that the Israelites have planned (e.g. to eat forbidden and consecrated food), even in Jerusalem (11:11-15). Sinon concludes – in relation to the Trojan options regarding what to do with the enigmatic wooden horse – with an Achior-like statement: 'For if your hands violate this offering to Minerva, then total destruction shall fall upon the empire of Priam and the Trojans…. But if your hands raise it up into your city, Asia shall come unbidden in a mighty war to the walls of Pelops, and that is the fate in store for our descendants'. Whilst Sinon's words were full of cunning, Achior had been sincere when he had warned Holofernes – in words to which Judith will later allude deceitfully (11:9-10): 'So now, my master and my lord, if there is any oversight in this people [the Israelites] and they sin against their God and we find out their offense, then we can go up against them and defeat them. But if they are not a guilty nation, then let my lord pass them by; for their Lord and God will defend them, and we shall become the laughing-stock of the whole world' (Judith 5:20-21). [Similarly, Achilles fears to become 'a laughing-stock and a burden of the earth' (Plato's Apologia, Scene I, D. 5)]. These, Achior's words, were the very ones that had so enraged Holofernes and his soldiers (vv.22-24). And they would give the Greeks the theme for their greatest epic, The Iliad”. But all of this is as nothing when compared to what I have found to be the multiple: Similarities to The Odyssey of the Books of Job and Tobit https://www.academia.edu/8914220/Similarities_to_The_Odyssey_of_the_Books_of_Job_and_Tobit this Semitic literature presumably well pre-dating the fairy-tale Greek efforts. Unsatisfactory Foundations “It concerns a supposed night attack by loyalist Greeks on Xerxes’s camp in the very middle of the Thermopylae campaign with the aim of assassinating the Great King”. Herodotus So much concerning the truth of the supposed Battle of Thermopylae rests with Herodotus, whose Histories are thought to come closest of all to being a primary source for the account. “He and [the poet] Simonides” are, according to professor Paul Cartledge, the “principal contemporary Greek written source for Thermopylae”. And, on p. 224: “… Herodotus in my view remains as good as it gets: we either write a history of Thermopylae with him, or we do not write one at all”. One problem with this is that Herodotus was known as (alongside his more favourable epithet, the “Father of History”) - as professor Cartledge has also noted - the “Father of Lies”. Where does Greek history actually begin? The history of Philosophy - of whose origins the Greeks are typically credited - begins with shadowy ‘Ionian Greeks’, such as Thales of Miletus, whose real substance I believe resides in the very wise Joseph of Egypt. Likewise the legendary Pythagoras. For an overview of all of this, see my: Re-Orienting to Zion the History of Ancient Philosophy https://www.academia.edu/4105845/Re-Orienting_to_Zion_the_History_of_Ancient_Philosophy Already I have de-Grecised such supposedly historical characters as Solon the Athenian statesman (who is but a Greek version of the Israelite King Solomon, and whose ‘laws’ appear to have been borrowed, at least in part, from the Jew, Nehemiah); Thales; Pythagoras; Empedocles, an apparent re-incarnation of Moses (Freud). And I have shown that Greek classics such as The Iliad and the Odyssey were heavily dependent upon earlier Hebrew literature. The ancient biblical scholar, Saint Jerome (c. 400 AD), had already noted, according to Orthodox pastor, Patrick H. Reardon (The Wide World of Tobit. Apocrypha’s Tobit and Literary Tradition), the resemblance of Tobit to Homer’s The Odyssey. The example that pastor Reardon gives, though, so typical of the biblical commentator’s tendency to infer pagan influence upon Hebrew literature, whilst demonstrating a definite similarity between Tobit and the Greek literature, imagines the author of Tobit to have appropriated a colourful episode from The Odyssey and inserted it into Tobit 11:9: http://www.touchstonemag.com/archives/article.php?id=12-02-036-f#ixzz2f1euwlrb “The resemblance of Tobit to the Odyssey in particular was not lost on that great student of literature, Jerome, as is evident in a single detail of his Latin translation of Tobit in the Vulgate. Intrigued by the literary merit of Tobit, but rejecting its canonicity, the jocose and sometimes prankish Jerome felt free to insert into his version an item straight out of the Odyssey—namely, the wagging of the dog’s tail on arriving home with Tobias in 11:9—Tunc praecucurrit canis, qui simul fuerat in via, et quasi nuntius adveniens blandimento suae caudae gaudebat—“Then the dog, which had been with them in the way, ran before, and coming as if it had brought the news, showed his joy by his fawning and wagging his tail.” …. No other ancient version of Tobit mentions either the tail or the wagging, but Jerome, ever the classicist, was confident his readers would remember the faithful but feeble old hound Argus, as the final act of his life, greeting the return of Odysseus to the home of his father: “he endeavored to wag his tail” (Odyssey 17.302). And to think that we owe this delightful gem to Jerome’s rejection of Tobit’s canonicity!” Reardon, continuing his theme of the dependence of Tobit, in part, upon, as he calls it here, “pagan themes”, finds further commonality with Greek literature, especially Antigone: “Furthermore, some readers have found in Tobit similarities to still other pagan themes, such as the legend of Admetus. …. More convincing, I believe, however, are points of contact with classical Greek theater. Martin Luther observed similarities between Tobit and Greek comedy … but one is even more impressed by resemblances that the Book of Tobit bears to a work of Greek tragedy—the Antigone of Sophocles. In both stories the moral stature of the heroes is chiefly exemplified in their bravely burying the dead in the face of official prohibition and at the risk of official punishment. In both cases a venerable moral tradition is maintained against a political tyranny destructive of piety. That same Greek drama, moreover, provides a further parallel to the blindness of Tobit in the character of blind Teiresias, himself also a man of an inner moral vision important to the theme of the play”. [End of quote] In light of all this - and what I have given above is very far from being exhaustive - and appreciating that those conventionally labelled as ‘Ionian Greeks’ may actually have been, in their origins, Hebrew biblical characters, then just how real is Herodotus of Ionian Greece (Halicarnassus)? And, can we be sure that the Histories attributed to him have been (anywhere nearly) properly dated? His name, Herod-, with a Greek ending (-otus), may actually bespeak a non-Greek ethnicity, and, indeed, a later period of time (say, closer to a Dionysius of Halicarnassus, C1st BC). Xerxes But, whatever may be the case with Herodotus, his classical version of “Xerxes” seems to have been based very heavily upon the Assyrian Great King, Sennacherib - another Book of Judith connection, given my view that Sennacherib was the actual Assyrian ruler of Nineveh named “Nebuchadnezzar” in Judith. E.g. 1:1: “In the twelfth year of the reign of Nebuchadnez′zar, who ruled over the Assyrians in the great city of Nin′eveh …”. Emmet Sweeney has marvellously shown this in the following comparisons (The Ramessides, Medes and Persians): SENNACHERIB XERXES Made war on Egypt in his third year, and fought a bitter war against the Greeks shortly thereafter. Made war on Egypt in his second year, and fought a bitter war against the Greeks shortly thereafter. Suppressed two major Babylonian rebellions. The first, in his second year, was led by Bel-Shimanni. The second, years later, was led by Shamash-eriba. Suppressed two major Babylonian rebellions. The first, in his third year, was led by Bel-ibni. The second, years later, was led by Mushezib-Marduk. The Babylonians were well-treated after the first rebellion, but savagely repressed after the second, when they captured and murdered Sennacherib’s viceroy, his own brother Ashur-nadin-shum. The Babylonians were well-treated after the first rebellion, but savagely repressed after the second, when they captured and murdered Xerxes’ satrap. After the second rebellion, Sennacherib massacred the inhabitants, razed the city walls and temples, and carried off the golden stature of Marduk. Thereafter the Babylonian gods were suppressed in favour of Ashur, who was made the supreme deity. After the second rebellion, Xerxes massacred the inhabitants, razed the city walls and temples, and carried off the golden stature of Bel-Marduk. Thereafter the Babylonian gods were suppressed in favour of Ahura-Mazda, who was made the supreme deity. Though I do not deny for a moment that Persia had a King Xerxes, a shortened version of Artaxerxes, the “Xerxes” of the Greeks is, however, purely fictitious. Diodorus of Sicily, C1st BC (presuming he did actually write later than Herodotus), will contribute to the fiction by including a Judith element (not mentioned by Herodotus) to the tale of “Xerxes” at Thermopylae. It is, in my opinion, just a re-run version of the assassination of “Holofernes”, admixed, perhaps, with the regicide of Sennacherib. Professor Cartledge has written of it (op. cit., p. 232): “It concerns a supposed night attack by loyalist Greeks on Xerxes’s camp in the very middle of the Thermopylae campaign with the aim of assassinating the Great King”. Based on the Book of Judith Drama Morton Scott Enslin has intuitively referred to the Book of Judith’s Bethulia incident as the “Judean Thermopylae” (The Book of Judith: Greek Text with an English Translation, p. 80). Comparisons between Book of Judith and the Battle of Thermopylae In both dramas we are introduced to a Great King, ruling in the East, who determines to conquer the West with a massive army. Scholars have wondered about the incredible size of the Persian army. “Almost all are agreed that Herodotus’ figure of 2,100,000, exclusive of followers, for the army (Bk VII. 184-85) is impossible” wrote F. Maurice in 1930 (“The Size of the Army of Xerxes in the Invasion of Greece 480 B. C.”, JHS, Vol. 50, Part 2 (1930), p. 211). Sennacherib’s Assyrian army of 185,000 was likely - discounting, as an unrealistic translation, the one million-strong army of “Zerah the Ethiopian” - the largest army ever to that time (and possibly even much later) to have been assembled. Apart from Kings, Chronicles and Isaiah, the same figure is referred to again in Maccabees, and in Herodotus’ Histories. The figure is not unrealistic for the neo-Assyrians, given that King Shalmaneser so-called III is known to have fielded an army of 120,000 men. (Fragments of the royal annals, from Calah, 3. lines 99–102: “In my fourteenth year, I mustered the people of the whole wide land, in countless numbers. I crossed the Euphrates at its flood with 120,000 of my soldiers”). Invading from the East, the armies must of necessity approach, now Greece, now Judah, from the North. Having successfully conquered everything in their path so far, the victors find that those peoples yet unconquered will speedily hand themselves over to their more powerful assailants. This process is known as ‘Medizing’ in the classical literature. In the Book of Judith, the all-conquering commander-in-chief, “Holofernes”, will receive as allies those who had formerly been his foes. And these, like the treacherous ones in the Thermopylae drama, will prove to be a thorn in the flesh of the few who have determined to resist the foreign onslaught. The armies arrive at a narrow pass, with defenders blocking their way. Thermopylae in the Herodotean account – “Bethulia” (best identified as Shechem) in the biblical Book of Judith. Dethroned Spartan King Demaratus, now an exile in Persia, will answer all of Xerxes’s questions about the Greek opposition, promising the King “to tell the whole truth—the kind of truth that you will not be able to prove false at a later date”. Most similarly Achior, probably born in Assyrian exile, will advise “Holofernes” about the Israelites, promising his superior (Judith 5:5): ‘I will tell you the truth about these people who live in the mountains near your camp. I will not lie to you’. A traitorous Greek, Ephialtes, will betray his country by telling the Persians of another pass around the mountains. Likewise, the turncoat local Edomites and Moabites will advise the Assyrians of a strategy better than the one that they had been intending. Conclusion The so-called Battle of Thermopylae never happened. No band of a mere 300 ever held the line against a massive Persian army. The classical Xerxes is a complete fiction. “Thermopylae: the Battle that changed the word”, in fact “changed” nothing. Now, the Battle of the Valley of Salem at “Bethulia” (Shechem), on the other hand, changed a heck of a lot. For (Judith 16:25): “As long as Judith lived, and for many years after her death, no one dared to threaten the people of Israel”. Also a Seleucid and more battles of Thermopylae “Thermopylae is a mountain pass near the sea in northern Greece which was the site of several battles in antiquity, the most famous being that between Persians and Greeks in August 480 BCE”. Mark Cartwright The OTHER (supposed) Battles of Thermopylae: https://steemit.com/history/@iaberius/the-other-battles-of-thermopylae are given here as follows: • 353 BC Battle of the Thermopylae. It took place during the Third Sacred War. Phocis and Thebes clashed over Delphi's control. The Phocians made heroic resistance in the Thermopylae against the ally of the Thebanians, King Philip II of Macedonia, father of Alexander the Great. • 279 BC Battle of Thermopylae. An alliance of the Greeks (Beotians, Phocians, Etholians, Megarenses and Athenians) defended the passage against the invasion of the Breno's Celts. Breno tried to use the hidden path used by Persian army two thousand years earlier, but the Greeks were prepared this time. A garrison defends the rough road, so Breno deviates to Delphi. In a second attempt, he succeeds in passing thanks the fog. However, the Greeks had been evacuated in the Athenian ships. Every one of the contingent goes to defend their city. • 191 BC Battle of Thermopylae. In this battle, the Seleucids clashed Romans, who came to Greece as allies of Macedonians. Marco Acilio Glabrio surrounded with his troops the army of King Antiochus III. They used the old mountain pass, and thus won the battle. • 267 AD Battle of Thermopylae. Several barbarian tribes assaulted the Roman Empire. First, they looted the Balkans, and then they extended their raid for Greece. One of these people, the Heruli, arrived at Thermopylae passage, where they tried to stop them without success. As a result, they devastated the entire Attica and the Peloponnese peninsula. Even the city of Sparta was plundered. Regarding the supposed Seleucid one of Antiochus (so-called) III, we read: http://www.historyofwar.org/articles/battles_thermopylae_191.html The battle of Thermopylae of 191 B.C. ended the Greek phase of the war between Rome and the Seleucid emperor Antiochus III. Antiochus had crossed into Greece from Asia Minor at the head of small army, hoping to find allies amongst the Greeks. He had been disappointed in this expectation – only the Aetolian League, who had invited him into Greece in the first place, offered him troops, and even then not as many as he had hoped. The Romans responded by sending an army to Greece, commanded by the consul M. Acilius Glabrio. He was more successful in finding allies, most notably gaining the support of Philip V of Macedonia, who only a few years before had been crushingly defeated by the Romans at Cynoscephalae (Second Macedonian War). Between them Philip and the Romans quickly recaptured all of Antiochus’ conquests in Thessaly. Antiochus decided to defend the pass of Thermopylae, where the greater Roman numbers would not be so telling. This position allowed him to remain in communication with Aetolia, and protected the crucial naval base at Chalcis. Antiochus defended the pass himself, with his 10,500 men, posting his slingers on the heights above the pass and his phalanx behind strong earthworks. The Aetolians were given the task of guarding his left flank, leaving 2,000 men at Heraclea in Trachis and posting 2,000 men in the forts that guarded the Asopus gorge and the mountain tracks that the Persians had used. Unfortunately for Antiochus the Romans had read the history books. They may have had as many as 40,000 men, and so on the night before the Roman attack they could afford to send 2,000 men around his western flank. On the day of the battle the Romans began with a frontal assault on his position. The first attack failed under a hail of missile weapons from the heights, and even when a second attack broke through the first Seleucid line, they were held off by Antiochus’ dug-in phalanx. The turning point of the battle came when the Roman flanking force appeared behind Antiochus’ position, and defeated the Aetolian troops guarding the col of Callidromus. The Seleucid army in the pass broke and fled, suffering heavy losses in the retreat. Antiochus was only able to rally 500 men at Elatea. He then retreated to Chalcis, before setting sail for Ephesus and Asia Minor. The war in Greece continued across the summer of 191, and saw Philip V recover some of the areas he had lost to the Aetolians after the Second Macedonian War. The Aetolians were then given permission to appear to the Senate, effectively suing for peace. At the same time the Romans turned their attention to an invasion of Asia Minor, winning a major naval battle at Corycus before winter ended the campaign of 191.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Lysander and Usanhuru

by Damien F. Mackey Herodotus, in The Histories, tells of a skilful physician, Democedes of Croton, a character that I claim to be fictitious and based upon a really attested historical figure, the Egyptian, Udjahorresne: Udjahorresne and Democedes (5) Udjahorresne and Democedes | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu The latter, who was a mentor in Egypt to Cambyses, appears under different names, all of which are mergeable the one with the other. Thus: Esarhaddon and Nes-Anhuret, Ashurbanipal and Usanahuru, Cambyses and Udjahorresne (5) Esarhaddon and Nes-Anhuret, Ashurbanipal and Usanahuru, Cambyses and Udjahorresne | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu The Greek writers (whoever they really were) have supposed Greek navy men, such as Polycrates, Lysander, fighting in Greek wars, but also interfering in Egypto-Persian battles. These supposed Greeks – and presumably their Greek wars (at least in part) – were a fiction. With all of this in mind, the name Lysander (Greek: Λύσανδρος) now looms for me as a Greek-ised version of Usan[a]huru, the Assyrian rendering of the Egyptian name, Udjahorresne. Compare: Usan[h]ur[u] and [L]usan[d]er Lysander was supposedly, like Udjahorresne (Usanhuru) really was, a navy admiral. Lysander was named admiral of the Spartan navy in 407 BC. Lysander: The Ambitious Admiral - Spartapedia Udjahorresne … had previously held the office of navy commander. http://www.displaceddynasties.com/uploads/6/2/6/5/6265423/displaced_dynasties_chapter_7_-_udjahorresne_-_statue__tomb.pdf Serving a Great King, Darius …. Great King Darius of Persia replaced the local satrap Tissaphernes with Darius’ younger son, Cyrus. Cyrus was an ambitious prince with a desire to foster closer ties with Sparta that they might one day assist his future claim to the Persian throne. He was thus eager to build a relationship with the incoming admiral [Lysander]. Udjahorresne … identified as a high official under Cambyses and Darius I …. Left something of a bad legacy: … scholars have wrongly maligned him, falsely accusing him of collaborating with the enemy. Lysander was a most unspartanlike Spartiate. Time and again he put him own goals before the common good, used his position for self-benefit, and promoted and celebrated himself in the most unpious fashion. In many ways, he exemplified the human flaws which characterized the unravelling of Lycurgan Sparta and its decline from power. To fill him out completely, as Udjahorresne, Lysander probably needs to be aligned also with the physician, Democedes: Udjahorresne and Democedes (6) Udjahorresne and Democedes | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

That ‘Nineveh’ anachronism again: Apollonius, Mohammed, Heraclius

by Damien F. Mackey “… Nineveh was so laid waste that it was considered a total myth of the Bible throughout most of the recent centuries, that is until it was discovered by Sir Austen Layard in the nineteenth century”. Archaeology of Ancient Assyria Poor old Nineveh! That ancient city gets dragged into various pseudo-histories purportedly belonging to AD time. And so I could not help exclaiming at the beginning of my article: Heraclius and the Battle of Nineveh (8) Heraclius and the Battle of Nineveh | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu What! What! What! The Byzantine emperor, Heraclius (reign, 610 to 641 AD), fighting a “Battle of Nineveh” in 627 AD! And here I am mistakenly under the impression that the city of Nineveh was completely destroyed in c. 612 BC, and that it lay hopelessly dead and buried until it was archaeologically resurrected by Layard in the mid-C19th AD. …. Again, I found that the Prophet Mohammed, a supposed contemporary of Heraclius - the latter being suspiciously, I thought, “A composite character to end all composites” - was likewise supposed to have had various associations with the (presumably long dead) city of Nineveh. See e.g. my article: Prophet Jonah, Nineveh, and Mohammed https://www.academia.edu/30409779/Prophet_Jonah_Nineveh_and_Mohammed Now I find that Apollonius of Tyana, supposedly of the C1st AD, was guided in his extensive travels - somewhat reminiscent of those of Tobias and the angel Raphael in the Book of Tobit (including “Nineveh”, “Tigris” and “Ecbatana”): A Common Sense Geography of the Book of Tobit https://www.academia.edu/8675202/A_Common_Sense_Geography_of_the_Book_of_Tobit by one, Damis, said to have been a native of Nineveh. And this Apollonius of Tyana is thought by many to have been the real model for Jesus Christ. I would have to agree with the following comment: https://www.catholic.com/magazine/print-edition/puppets-should-not-give-homilies “The case of Apollonius of Tyana is not comparable with the evidence we have for Jesus. We have multiple sources for the life of Jesus, while we only have one source for Apollonius. This source, Philostratus, claims to have recorded what eyewitnesses said about Apollonius, but your professor probably neglected to mention that the only eyewitness Philostratus mentions is one Damis from Nineveh. This city didn’t even exist in the first century (which means Damis probably did not exist, either). …”. If Nineveh did not then exist, and Damis “probably did not exist”, then I think it would be safe to say that neither did Apollonius of Tyana probably exist, but was a fictitious Greek appropriation of Jesus Christ whom Apollonius occasionally resembles quite remarkably. For the reason why this is, see my article: Apollonius of Tyana, like Philo, a fiction (3) Apollonius of Tyana, like Philo, a fiction | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu In the amusingly entitled: “APOLLONIUS CREED VS. JESUS THE ROCK”, David Marshall writes: One of the supreme principles of modern thought is that there must be no great inexplicable "gaps" in Nature. This is the source of controversy in biology, where proponents of Intelligent Design claim that life reveals micro-machinery that naturalistic evolution cannot explain. Critics of ID reply that no, all such "gaps" can in principle be explained, and the more we understand the story of life, the more such gaps have and will continue to close. Likewise, those who affirm miracles say that events such as the Resurrection of Jesus, or the sudden healing of a loved one after prayer, cannot easily be displayed on naturalistic grounds. Skeptics again beg to differ: "Nothing to see here, move along, folks. We may not have all the details, but nothing has happened that cannot in principle be explained by deceit, inattention, cognitive dissonance, the Will to Believe, confused reporting, or perhaps a timely group hallucination or two. These are all events that happen commonly in the natural world, and as Hume explained, prosaic explanations are therefore infinitely more likely than a miracle." Which sounds like begging the question to believers. The same debate has now raged for two centuries over the person of Jesus, and reports about his life. Here, it appears, lies a God-sized gap in Nature if ever there was one. A man who healed the blind! Who spoke with a voice of thunder, casting traders out of the temple as if the place belonged to him! Who fed thousands with a few loaves and fishes, and raised the dead! Who claimed to be "one with the Father," and spoke as if all of Israel's history, indeed all world history, would somehow be consummated by his mission, which involved his own sacrifice and then ultimate conquest of that ultimate boogeyman, death! All skeptical "historical Jesus" scholarship can be seen as a Herculean attempt to plug this gap in the universe. That includes the most famous and popular such attempts in our day, such as the work of scholars like Bart Ehrman and Paula Fredrikson, populists like Reza Aslan, the writings of the famous (or infamous) Jesus Seminar (and stars emerging from that constellation like John Crossan, Marcus Borg, Robert Funk, and John Spong), and the more radical writings of people like Richard Carrier and less-educated fellows on the "Jesus mythicist" fringe. I believe Christians should look on their colossal effort to "plug the gap" as an act of kindness. Opponents of the Christian faith are doing wonderful work for truth: they sift ancient writings over hundreds of years (Thomas Jefferson was already part of the game), turning every stone along the Sea of Galilee, sifting every play, drama, epic and farce out of Athens, tunneling under the pyramids of Egypt, knocking on the doors of forest mystics along the Ganges, climbing the Tibetan plateau, in the world's greatest scholarly manhunt. Our skeptical friends (atheists, agnostics, Muslims, Hindus, New Agers, nominal Christians) have been searching high and low for centuries, to locate their "missing man:" someone, anyone, who faintly resembles Jesus of Nazareth. Or, to put the matter another way, those who find the Jesus of the gospels both attractive and threatening would dearly like to find a genuine "Fifth Gospel." (A term that has been used for both the so-called "Gospel of Thomas" and for Fyodor Dostoevsky's masterpiece, The Brothers Karamazov). To summarize what I think is the true state of affairs, the actual results of this massive manhunt, let me begin autobiographically. Then let's take a brief look at one of the most popular ancient comparisons to Jesus. I have argued in three books that this search for a credible analogy to Jesus of Nazareth has utterly failed. (Or, from the Christian perspective, succeeded wildly, by showing just how huge the gap is between Jesus and all those the world would compare to him). I first set this argument down in a book called Why the Jesus Seminar can't find Jesus, and Grandma Marshall Could. After detailing twelve fatal errors committed by Jesus Seminar fellows, I described 50 characteristics that define the gospels, and make them unique. (Having to do with setting, style and literary qualities, character, moral teachings, pedagogy, social qualities, and theology). I then analyzed some works that are often compared to the gospels, including the "Gospel" of Thomas and Apollonius of Tyana, and found that when analyzed objectively, at best these supposed "closest parallels" only resemble the real gospels on 6-9 out of 50 characteristics. (The closest parallel I have found so far is The Analects of Confucius, which is our best source for the life of Confucius – though it lacks many of internal qualities that demonstrate the general historicity of the gospels). Later, for a Harvest House book called The Truth About Jesus and the "Lost Gospels" I analyzed all extant Gnostic "gospels." In doing that research, I found myself in for an even greater shock. It turned out that eminent scholars, having searched the ancient world high and low, offered up ancient "parallels" to the gospels that were as different from them in almost every meaningful way as a sea slug is from a falcon. "Great scholars" like Ehrman, Crossan, and Elaine Pagels had clearly fooled themselves, and their followers, to a monumental degree, seeing what just was not there, and missing what was. As C. S. Lewis memorably put it (so I quote roughly, from memory), "They claimed to see fern seed, and overlook an elephant standing fifty yards away in broad daylight." Finally, in a chapter of Faith Seeking Understanding called "The Fingerprints of Jesus," I focused on five qualities that the gospels share: his aphorisms or sayings, how he treated the weak, the cultural transcendence of his teachings, his revolutionary attitude towards women, and the particular character of his miracles. I made the case that like fingerprints, "These traits help the gospels grip the mind of the reader and mark them as unique. They are not the sorts of things a disciple would add intentionally, or in some cases even could invent." This "forensic" argument for Jesus and the gospels is distinct from, but I think complements, traditional and more purely historical arguments. (Such as those made by Craig Blomberg in his excellent "The Historical Reliability of the Gospels"). In the gospels, I argue, we meet a unique person, a person whose personality has imprinted itself powerfully on the minds of those who recorded the strange and wonderful events that took place in Palestine. Skeptics OUGHT to easily find numerous real parallels to the gospels. Again and again they seem to have persuaded themselves that they have succeeded and found this unholy "holy grail." But all such parallels have turned out to be mirages, a room full of grails as fake as those in Indiana Jones. (But much more obvious!) Every such attempt collapses upon sober analysis, as Lewis again noticed decades before the Jesus Seminar was yet a twinkle in Robert Funk's eyes: “I have been reading poems, romances, vision literature, legends and myths all my life. I know what they are like. I know that not one of them is like this.” Space and time being limited, I cannot give a very full argument here. I will, therefore, focus briefly on one of the most popular alleged parallels: The Life of Apollonius of Tyana. Apollonius is mentioned again and again by skeptics who hold him up as proudly as a fourth-grader with a five-pound trout. About 300 AD, the Roman governor Hierocles already compared the "god-like" Apollonius favorably to Jesus in his Lover of Truth. Like Jesus, Apollonius was said to have done miracles and to be "divine." Harvard Jesus scholar Paula Fredriksen likewise wrote that Apollonius "had numerous miracles attributed to him: spectacular healings, exorcisms, even once raising someone from the dead," showing that Jesus' miracles were not "unprecedented or unique." Funk also advised us to compare stories about Jesus with "what was written about other teachers and charismatic figures of his time," placing Apollonius at the top of her list: "It is revealing to know that there are other stories of miraculous births, that other charismatic figures healed people of their afflictions and exorcised demons." In my debates with Robert Price and Richard Carrier, both similarly pointed to Apollonius as a strong parallel to the life of Jesus. Carrier said, "Now everything he says about the gospels is true of all kinds of faith literature in all religions . . . There are other examples that look more like the gospels, for example, the Book of Tobit. Or Plutarch's biography of Romulus. Or Philostratus' biography of Apollonius of Tyana. There are a lot of these examples of faith literature that look more like the gospels. And if you wanted me to sit down and research and find the most similar example, I could. But it's not necessary. There's plenty of examples like this that have all the characteristics of the gospels . . . " This "gap" in the universe has thus, in their eyes, been completely filled. Until, that is, you take the time to actually read the Life of Apollonius, or any of these works. (The ones he gives here are quite ridiculous. Another, perhaps even more comical parallel Carrier gave elsewhere in the debate was The Golden Ass – the story of a man who accidentally bewitched himself and turned into a donkey until he ate some roses and turned back into a man). When one stops laughing, one has to shake one's head. The sober historian will begin by reminding skeptics that not only did Apollonius live after Jesus, his "life" was written up some 150 years after the gospels. In fact, it was written by one Philostratus, for the Empress Julia Domna, an early 3rd Century patroness of the arts and opponent of Christianity. The story tells how a popular 1st Century philosopher journeyed (like Hercules) to exotic locales, from Africa to India. The author claimed to work from (among other sources) letters his subject wrote to kings and philosophers, and from the diary of his Boswell and most famous disciple, one Damis of Ninevah. (A city which, unfortunately, did not actually exist at the time of the diarist's alleged birth, however). As I reminded Dr. Price, if you want parallels to Jesus to show that Jesus is really not so special, it is best to find some that are credibly independent of the gospels. If Apollonius were at all like Jesus, if his "miracles" were at all like the ones worked in the gospels, one very plausible hypothesis would be that Philostratus prettied him up to match his competitor. (A common tactic in religious entrepreneurship). Given that the book was sponsored by an opponent of Christianity, this hypothesis seems even more credible. And Philostratus may indeed have intended that at times. But one need not stress this point too much, because if you read the two sets of writings, what cries out to the heavens, the "elephant" in the room, is that in fact, Apollonius is nothing at all like Jesus. Not even his miracles, ripped off as some likely were from the gospels, are much like those of Jesus. I found that in fact, Apollonius of Tyana only shared six of 50 characteristics with the gospels fairly strongly, three weakly. Most of what they shared was not very important to historicity: that like Jesus, Apollonius was a teacher, and used a Q&A format to teach, and that the book tells stories. Let me briefly detail eight points of difference that are historically relevant: 1. The gospels were written within the plausible life-times of Jesus' first followers. Apollonius was written some 150 years after most the events it allegedly records. Such a gap is of deep significance to historicity. 2. Jesus carries out a remarkable, and unique, dialogue with the Hebrew tradition. He is Jewish from head to foot, steeped in the traditions and faith of his people. But he also challenges that tradition to the core, citing and fulfilling a plethora of prophecies and types and images from the ancient Hebrew world. One cannot do justice to this unique quality of the gospels, to which I know of no parallels, in a few words. Apollonius is not a dialogue with tradition, it is a monologue. In some ways a typical tourist, Apollonius floats dreamily across the world on a cushion of Greek arrogance. He is pleased to find his hosts in Babylon and India speak Greek. (This often happens in Greek novels, which center on lucky coincidences in far-away places). He visits all the sights, and takes the proper verbal snapshots, like backdrops to a James Bond flick. He is warmly welcomed by foreign priests, whom he instructs in superior (Greek, presumably) ritual. Why does this matter to those who want to know whether the gospels are telling the truth about Jesus or not? Apollonius is the kind of work a moderately clever writer could produce from his veranda, in pajamas and slippers. The gospels are not: they record an earthshattering encounter with a unique historical person who challenged his beloved tradition to its core. 3. The gospel writers relate many details about places correctly. Dozens of facts have been confirmed independently from Luke's description in Acts of the Apostles, for instance. By contrast, Philostratus sends us a series of post-cards from prominent cities on the edges of the ancient world. He describes how the citizens of Tarsus congregate by the river "like so many waterfowl," a tunnel under the Euphrates River, and a city in India hidden by what Star Trek fans might call a cloaking device. His account of geography and customs bare a relation to reality so long as his guru sticks to ground trampled by Macedonian army boots. But when he ranges past the conquests of Alexander the Great, Damis proves an "errant story teller:" "His description of the country between the Hyphasis and the Ganges is utterly at variance with all known facts regarding it . . . Damis, in fact, tells nothing that is true about India except what has been told by writers before him." (JW MCrinkle, quoted in Phillimore, Apollonius of Tyana, preface) Apollonius also describes special Indian fauna: griffins, phoenix, apes that cultivate pepper trees, sluggish, 30 cubit marsh dragons, and lively alpine dragons: "there is not a single ridge without one." 4. The Gospel narrative is mostly understated, "Just the facts, Ma'am" in a style that contrasts sharply with the words of Christ. Everyone else is a straight man, not because the disciples lack personality, but by contrast to the unforgettable central figure. "Master, master, we are perishing." "Are you the one, or should we look for someone else?" This distinguishes the gospels from Job, Bhagavad Gita, Candide, or most ancient novels or plays, in which the animating genius appears not as a figure within the text, but the literary puppet-master who brings all characters to life. All the characters in Job, for example, speak with the same gusto, even God. But in the gospels, the "spice" comes from the words of Jesus, not from Mark or even (usually) John. This, too, reflects the fact that the gospel writers were talking about a real, memorable person, not merely telling pretty stories. But Philostratus is telling stories. Apollonius contains much dialogue, in easy, colloquial tones, full of phrases like "But tell me," "By Zeus!" and the idiom of informal philosophical discourse: "So then . . . " "And what else could it be?" "We may rather consider this to be the case." The words of Apollonius do not much stand out from the text, in my opinion. 5. The gospels are full of realistic details, as even A. N. Wilson pointed out, when he was still a skeptic. It is often said that novelists can easily make up such details. But did they? Philostratus wants us to know his subject was remarkable, and tries to show this through the reaction of onlookers. At one point, Apollonius took a vow of silence. But when he entered a town in conflict, he shamed it into making peace by a gesture and the look on his face. Another time, the sages discussed how boiled eggs keep a child from alcoholism. "They were astonished at the many-sided wisdom of the company." It is hard to believe anyone was so impressed by such folklore, even in the 1st Century. One rare realistic touch comes when the sage talks to an Indian king through an interpreter. But this is spoiled by an earlier claim that he spoke all languages without studying. (As Eusebius already pointed out 1700 years ago). Besides crested dragons, spice-loving panthers (an addiction that proved their downfall), and 400 year-old elephants that shoot at enemies with their trunks, the hero's surprising fame in India, and his inane observations, which little justify that fame, allow the text to "work" for a modern audience only as a farce. Imagine the following dialogue between Steve Martin as Apollonius, and Bill Murray as a customs official, who at first takes Apollonius for a spirit: Bill Murray: "Whence comes this visitation?" Steve Martin: "I come of myself, if possible to make men of you, in spite of yourselves! All the earth is mine, and I have a right to go all over it and through it." Murray: "I will torture you, if you don't answer my questions." Martin (baring teeth): "I hope that you will do it with your own hands, so that you may catch it well, if you touch a true man." Murray (batting eyes): "By the gods, who are you?" Martin (with a magnanimous flourish): "Since you have asked me civilly this time and not so rudely as before, listen . . . I am Apollonius of Tyana . . . I shall be glad to meet your king." Subdued, the official offers gold, which the sage refuses. Then he suggests a barbecue, but recalls with horror that Apollonius is a vegetarian. Finally he offers vegan hors d'ouvres -- unfortunately not organic: Murray: "You should have leavened bread and huge dates as yellow as amber. And I can offer you all the vegetables that grow in the garden of the Tigris." Martin: "Wild, natural vegetables are more tasty than the forced and artificial!" The unintended comedy of Philostratus' work makes me rather glad that skeptics often appeal to it as a parallel to the gospels: I would have missed the fun of reading this unconsciously silly book otherwise. One wonders, though, how so many brilliant, highlyeducated skeptics can seriously claim Apollonius as some sort of parallel to Jesus. They are none so blind. 6. Jesus noticed and cared about individuals. Where the disciples noticed a "Samaritan" "woman," Jesus saw a hurting individual with a history of failed relationships who hungered for God. He often noticed individuals – a lady who had endured much from doctors, a woman about to be stoned, a man of faith, Zaccheus the Short – where others saw members of a class – tax collector, blind beggar, guide. Jesus possessed a quality rare in the healing profession, of looking a patient in the eye. With the sick, too, he saw not just a condition to attend, but a mother or brother or friend. If we possessed divine healing powers, would we think to ask a blind beggar who called on us, "What do you want?" Jesus did not dispense medicine to a procession of charity cases: he met and cared for human beings. Richard Carrier claimed that "Apollonius of Tyana notices individuals," as Jesus does. In fact, the disciples of Apollonius seem a nebulous lot. In his early days, the sage gathered seven, of whom nothing is said, apart from this parting shot when the philosopher set off for India: "I have taken council of the gods, and I have told you of my resolve . .. Since you are so soft, fare you well, and be true to your studies. I must go my way where Science and a higher Power guide me." But Apollonius' servants are forced to accompany him. Damius, whom he meets later in Ninevah, is probably no more than a rhetorical device. He serves two rhetorical purposes: to chronicle his master's adventures, and as foil to allow Philostratus to comment on sights along the way. When needed, extras appear, like the servants. They are just props. When confronted by two men with rival claims to buried gold, Apollonius judges their claims from universal principles: "I cannot believe that the gods would deprive the one even of this land, unless he was a bad man, or that they would, on the other hand, bestow on the other even what was under the land, unless he was better than the man who sold it." With pompous disinterest in real people like that, no wonder Apollonius became a wandering sage. So no, Apollonius does not really notice individuals – he's too busy preening and offering "wisdom." As for that alleged wisdom: 7. Jesus' teachings were surprising, shocking, paradoxical, and challenging. They were always original and surprising in form or context. G. K. Chesterton explained: "A man reading the gospel sayings would not find platitudes. If he had read even in the most respectful spirit the majority of ancient philosophers and of modern moralists, he would appreciate the unique importance of saying that he did not find platitudes. It is more than can be said of Plato. It is much more than can be said of Epictetus or Seneca or Marcus Aurelius or Apollonius of Tyana. And it is immeasurably more than can be said of most of the agnostic moralists and preachers of the ethical societies; with their songs of service and their religion of brotherhood." The gospels startle a reader by "strange claims that might sound like the claim to be the brother of the sun and moon," "startling pieces of advice," "stunning rebukes," and "strangely beautiful stories." An objective reader: "Would see some very gigantesque figures of speech about the impossibility of threading a needle with a camel or the possibility of throwing a mountain into the sea. He would see a number of very daring simplifications of the difficulties of life; like the advice to shine upon everybody indifferently as does the sunshine or not to worry about the future any more than the birds. He would find on the other hand some passages of almost impenetrable darkness, so far as he was concerned, such as the moral of the parable of the Unjust Servant. Some of these things might strike him as fables and some as truths; but none as truisms." By contrast, Apollonius of Tyana is choked with platitudes: "Is there any form of consumption so wasting as (falling in love)?" "Blessed are you then in your treasure, if you rate your friends more highly than gold and silver." Apollonius says little that is unique, and is often simplistic, making raids into the inane. But Philostratus is supposed to be one of the more clever writers of his time. Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John (according to our skeptics) are all anonymous writers, except maybe for Luke. Even on the traditional account, Jesus' disciples were a motley and mostly low-class crew. So why do the sayings of Jesus shine so much brighter than those of the "great sage," as transcribed by a "leading writer?" (And why do his words stand out from everyone else in the gospels?) The simplest explanation is clearly the best: the words of Jesus truly do trace to one unique genius, and represent a genuine, early memory of the actual teachings of our Lord. 8. But what about miracles? Isn't Apollonius proof that the miracles of Jesus were nothing special? Actually, I think such claims are proof, again, that some of our skeptical friends need to visit the eye doctor. The uber skeptic, Morton Smith, argued that miracles appear in the gospels because, indeed, Jesus did such things: "All major strands of the gospel material present Jesus as a miracle worker who attracted his followers by his miracles. All of them indicate that because of his miracles he was believed to be the Messiah and the son of a god. Anyone who wants to deny the truth of these reports must try to prove that within 40 to 60 years of Jesus' death all the preserved strands of Christian tradition had forgotten, or deliberately misrepresented, the most conspicuous characteristic of the public career of the founder of the movement." (Jesus the Magician: Charlatan or Son of God?, 4) Smith's own solution was to conflate "miracle" with "magic," which as I argue in Jesus and the Religions of Man, shows a failure in critical observation in itself. (Another way Smith dealt with Jesus was by inventing a saying of Mark to make Jesus look gay, probably as a gag). But this observation is accurate: Thomas Jefferson aside, one can't credibly take the miracles out of the gospels, anymore than one can de-bone a horse and still ride it. Glenn Miller has shown in a detailed summary that for two and a half centuries before the time of Jesus, miracle workers were essentially absent from the Roman world. ("Copy-Cat Savior" at ChristianThinktank.com). Skeptics like John Crossan often point to alleged parallels like Honi the CircleDrawer and Hanina ben Dosa, who strictly speaking, did no miracles at all. One prayed for rain, and rain came in a timely manner. But even that was reported long after the fact, and after the writing of the gospels. The desperation on the part of those who would make Jesus less lonely, is palpable. It is stunning that such seem to be the closest parallels skeptics can find, after an epic canvassing of ancient records. The search for an historical person who parallels Jesus on these points – the character and fact of his miracles – should convince us not that miracle workers were common, but exceedingly rare. No one seems to have found any records in the ancient world that parallel the realism, piety, practicality, and historicity of the miracle stories of Jesus. So what about Apollonius' "miracles?" Philostratus begins his work by reminding us that a philosopher can dabble in magic without tainting his credibility, as he says Plato, Pythagoras, Socrates, and Anaxagoras all did. For the most part, he prefers to describe Apollonius as philosopher rather than magician. Occasionally, though, his hero disappears or foretells the future. The Hindu gurus also practice levitation, for which a metaphysical explanation is given. The secret to virtue is not magic, but "science." Often, when called on to cure people of an illness, Apollonius chose to rebuke them of sin, instead, and let them know they had what came to them, coming to them. Often this looks like blaming the victim. Anthropologist Rene Girard even used Apollonius as a case study of scape-goating. When the people of Ephesus asked the good sage to save them from a plague, he did so by having them stone a beggar to death. Beaten to a bloody pulp, the beggar's eyes glowed red, thus revealing him to be a demon. Girard reacted to this "horrible miracle" by noting, "Jesus is poles apart from Apollonius. Jesus doesn't instigate stonings; rather, he does all he can to prevent them." (Girard, I See Satan Fall Like Lightening, 54) Philostratus also raised a girl from apparent, but possibly misdiagnosed death. Even those at the scene "could not decide" whether or not she had been alive. So while Philostratus, writing long after the gospels and probably aware of them, claimed his sage did miracles, too, they were infrequent, and of a totally different character from those of Jesus. Parallels with Christ's miracles are therefore superficial, and this "proof text" is the exception that proves the rule. There simply are no serious parallels to Jesus in the ancient world, on this, as on many traits, or the sum total of those traits, even less. For two thousand years, skeptics have tried to find some parallel to the life of Jesus, so as to render it less unique, and, if possible, dismiss it as "just another tall tale." This attempt has utterly failed, revealing Jesus as unique indeed. Apollonius of Tyana is a dreadful choice as a parallel Christ. It is about someone whose career mostly occurred after the life of Jesus, was written up hundreds of years later, perhaps purposely in order to compete with or undermine Christianity. Yet even so, read these two sets of ancient writings, and no comparison could be more incongruous. No one could be less like Jesus than the cocky, banal, self-satisfied, inane, and ridiculous Apollonius, who has nothing much to say that has not been said better on Saturday Night Live. Why is that? Philostratus is supposed to the more cosmopolitan and clever writer. Something obviously much deeper and more remarkable is going on in the Gospels than mere literary cleverness. It says something about the gospels that so many skeptics have spent so much time looking for parallels, yet the best they can come up with is something like Apollonius of Tyana. Divine fingerprints rest upon the gospels, of a visitation to which no remote parallel has yet been found. ….

A Jewish tradition has Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ as Emperor Hadrian

by Damien F. Mackey The tyrant in the rabbinic versions, however, is not Antiochus Epiphanes but Hadrian: “Hadrian came and seized upon a widow …” (S. Eliyahu Rab. 30) This story bears remarkable parallels to that of the widow-martyr, Hannah, in 2 Maccabees, especially in my revised context according to which the Seleucid king Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ was Hadrian: Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part One: “… a mirror image” https://www.academia.edu/32734925/Antiochus_Epiphanes_and_Emperor_Hadrian._Part_One_a_mirror_image_ and: Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part Two: “Hadrian … a second Antiochus” https://www.academia.edu/35538588/Antiochus_Epiphanes_and_Emperor_Hadrian._Part_Two_Hadrian_a_second_Antiochus_ For one, an “Antiochus” denounces the mother and her daughters to the emperor Hadrian. In 2 Maccabees 7 it is Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ who tortures the victims, but who is named in Jewish legends, “Hadrian”. In the Christian tale the mother has only daughters. In the Maccabean account the mother has only sons. St. Sophia is, as Hannah is (according to Jewish tradition), a widow. In both tales the children remain composed even whilst being tortured. In both tales the pious mother, who encourages her children, outlives them all, but soon dies (St. Sophia 3 days later). Here is my account of the Jewish widow-martyr, according to my revised history, with the Herodian and Maccabean ages now contemporary, and Hannah tentatively suggested as the New Testament widow, Anna the prophetess: Anna was a widow - and, appropriately, the woman-martyr in Maccabees has no husband with her but only sons. Soon we shall read that she was, according to rabbinic tradition, “a widow”. And she was indeed very wise and prophetic, as would befit an Anna the prophetess. Moreover, Anna had had the inestimable privilege of witnessing the future hope of Israel and she accordingly “gave thanks to God and spoke about the Child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem” (Luke 2:38). If Anna were also the woman of Maccabees, then her experience of meeting the Holy Family would have greatly fortified her in her worthy task of urging her seven sons not to apostatise. Her hope had become their hope. And so the youngest of the sons can hopefully proclaim to the king (2 Maccabees 7:32-35): ‘It is true that our living Lord is angry with us and is making us suffer because of our sins, in order to correct and discipline us. But this will last only a short while, for we are still his servants, and he will forgive us. But you are the cruelest and most disgusting thing that ever lived. So don’t fool yourself with illusions of greatness while you punish God’s people. There is no way for you to escape punishment at the hands of the almighty and all-seeing God’. The wise mother also manages to ‘shatter the theory of evolution’ with her ex nihilo remark (7:28): ‘God did not make them out of existing things’: http://www.usccb.org/bible/2mc/7 “that is, all things were made solely by God’s omnipotent will and creative word; cf. Heb 11:3. This statement has often been taken as a basis for “creation out of nothing” (Latin creatio ex nihilo)”. Hannah’s (Anna’s) martyrdom, along with her seven sons, I would estimate to have occurred very soon after the Presentation. The Holy Family was now safe from “the king”, in Egypt. Now, a traditional Jewish interpretation of this dramatic account of martyrdom may have great import for our revised Maccabean-Herodian history and for the ‘shaving off’ of Romans. My question has been: And who is Caesar Augustus? … whilst Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ was the king present during the martyrdom of the woman and her seven sons, there are accounts in the Jewish Talmud and Midrash according to which the king in the story was “Caesar” (e.g. Talmud, Gittin 57b and Midrash Eicha Rabba 1:50). Even more shockingly (in standard historical terms) the cruel king overseeing the martyrdom is sometimes named “Hadrian”. Stephen D. Moore, in The Bible in Theory: Critical and Postcritical Essays, p. 196, when discussing the famous incident in the Maccabees of the mother and her seven martyred sons, adds this intriguing footnote (51) according to which Antiochus was replaced in rabbinic tradition by Hadrian: Nameless in 4 Maccabees, the mother is dubbed … Hannah … in the rabbinic tradition …. The tyrant in the rabbinic versions, however, is not Antiochus Epiphanes but Hadrian: “Hadrian came and seized upon a widow …” (S. Eliyahu Rab. 30); “In the days of the shemad [the Hadrianic persecutions]…” (Pesiq. R. 43). …. As said, this is ‘shocking’ in a conventional context which would have Antiochus (c. 170 BC) separated in time from the reign of the emperor Hadrian (c. 117-138 AD) by some three centuries. But it accords perfectly with the descriptions of Hadrian as “a second Antiochus” and “a mirror-image of Antiochus”. [End of quote] Now, here is the story of the Christian saint and her daughters - all so marvellously named: https://oca.org/saints/lives/2012/09/17/102641-martyr-love-with-her-mother-and-sisters-at-rome Martyr Love with her mother and sisters at Rome The Holy Martyrs Saint Sophia and her Daughters Faith, Hope and Love were born in Italy. Their mother was a pious Christian widow who named her daughters for the three Christian virtues. Faith was twelve, Hope was ten, and Love was nine. Saint Sophia raised them in the love of the Lord Jesus Christ. Saint Sophia and her daughters did not hide their faith in Christ, but openly confessed it before everyone. An official named Antiochus denounced them to the emperor Hadrian … who ordered that they be brought to Rome. Realizing that they would be taken before the emperor, the holy virgins prayed fervently to the Lord Jesus Christ, asking that He give them the strength not to fear torture and death. When the holy virgins and their mother came before the emperor, everyone present was amazed at their composure. They looked as though they had been brought to some happy festival, rather than to torture. Summoning each of the sisters in turn, Hadrian urged them to offer sacrifice to the goddess Artemis. The young girls remained unyielding. Then the emperor ordered them to be tortured. They burned the holy virgins over an iron grating, then threw them into a red-hot oven, and finally into a cauldron with boiling tar, but the Lord preserved them. The youngest child, Love, was tied to a wheel and they beat her with rods until her body was covered all over with bloody welts. After undergoing unspeakable torments, the holy virgins glorified their Heavenly Bridegroom and remained steadfast in the Faith. They subjected Saint Sophia to another grievous torture: the mother was forced to watch the suffering of her daughters. She displayed adamant courage, and urged her daughters to endure their torments for the sake of the Heavenly Bridegroom. All three maidens were beheaded, and joyfully bent their necks beneath the sword. In order to intensify Saint Sophia’s inner suffering, the emperor permitted her to take the bodies of her daughters. She placed their remains in coffins and loaded them on a wagon. She drove beyond the city limits and reverently buried them on a high hill. Saint Sophia sat there by the graves of her daughters for three days, and finally she gave up her soul to the Lord. Even though she did not suffer for Christ in the flesh, she was not deprived of a martyr’s crown. Instead, she suffered in her heart. Believers buried her body there beside her daughters. ….

Monday, February 26, 2024

Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ and Julian ‘the Apostate’

by Damien F. Mackey “Antiochus Epiphanes thought nothing was more certain than that he would annihilate the Jewish nation. Julian the Apostate convinced himself that it was already in his power to uproot the Christian religion”. Herman J. Selderhuis (ed.) This is a quote from the book, Psalms 1-72 (p. 14). If Julian ‘the Apostate’ bears comparison, at least to some extent, with the emperor Hadrian: Hadrian and Julian the Apostate (4) Hadrian and Julian the Apostate | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu “… Julian … and Hadrian were both 'full of zeal for idolatry', 'superstitious […] astrologers wanting to know everything, so constantly inquisitive as to be accused of magic'.” then I might expect, also, some useful comparisons of this Julian with emperor Hadrian’s alter ego, king Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’, as according to my series: Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part One: “… a mirror image” https://www.academia.edu/32734925/Antiochus_Epiphanes_and_Emperor_Hadrian._Part_One_a_mirror_image_ and: Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part Two: “Hadrian … a second Antiochus” https://www.academia.edu/35538588/Antiochus_Epiphanes_and_Emperor_Hadrian._Part_Two_Hadrian_a_second_Antiochus_ Collin Garbarino talks about “an appropriation of the past” - {appropriation being a word I have been much inclined to use for when I consider pagans to have borrowed from the Hebrew scriptures but claimed the material as their own} - by Christian writers of the Maccabean period (“Resurrecting the martyrs: the role of the Cult of the Saints, A.D. 370-430”, 2010). Though, according to my radical revision of the Maccabees in relation to the Herodian era, the Maccabean martyrs at the time of Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ fall right into the period of the Infancy of Jesus Christ. See also my article: Hadrianic patterns of martyrdom (7) Hadrianic patterns of martyrdom | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Garbarino writes (emphasis added): https://digitalcommons.lsu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2348&context=gradschool_dissertations This appropriation of the past could even reach back farther than the time of Christ [sic]. During this expansion of the cult of martyrs in the fourth century, bishops began venerating the Maccabeans who died in the Seleucid persecutions of the 160s BC. The various books of Maccabees describe the deaths of faithful Jews at the hands of Seleucid oppressors because of their refusal to abandon the Torah. These stories contain many of the same elements that later characterized Christian martyrologies: trials designed to cause apostasy, tortures and promises given by the magistrate, and a confession of continued faith in God. In light of these commonalities, it is surprising that Christian communities did not adopt these Jewish saints earlier. The earliest extant evidence of Christians honoring the Maccabean martyrs is Gregory of Nazianzus’s Homily 15, On the Maccabees. …. Gregory probably preached this sermon in 362, during the reign of Julian the Apostate. …. He used the Maccabean situation to criticize in a veiled manner the anti-Christian policies of the emperor. In the sermon, he explicitly says that very few Christian communities honor these martyrs because their deaths predated Christ. …. Gregory, however, found their cult useful for promoting Christianization, and this sermon acts as a turning point for the Maccabees. Martha Vinson writes, “Before this sermon, the Maccabees are merely faces in a crowd of Old Testament exempla ... while after it, as the homiletic literature from the last decades from the fourth century attests, they have been singled out from the pack as the sole beneficiaries not only of encomia but of a well-established cult.” …. By the year 400, the Maccabees were being honored as Christian martyrs by preachers around the Mediterranean. [End of quote] Barry Phillips will write in a footnote (p. 129, n. 19) to his article “Antiochus IV, Epiphanes” (Journal of Biblical Literature, Vol. 29, No. 2, 1910): Dan. 11 st: " And arms shall stand on his part, and they shall pollute the sanctuary of strength, and shall take away the daily sacrifice, and they shall place the abomination that maketh desolate." Cf. 8 12 9 27 12 11, 1 Macc. 1 54, 2 Macc. 6 2. Hoffman, Antiochus Epiphanes, p. 80, essays to compare Antiochus and Julian. In so far as the ideas of both were out of harmony with the spirit of the times, there is an apparent similarity between the persecutions of Antiochus and of Julian, far less, however, than the dissimilarity, owing to the fact that whereas Julian sought the extinction of Christianity as an end, Antiochus sought the extinction of Judaism but as a means to an end. Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Julian ‘the Apostate’ are similarly likened to the Antichrist. For instance, Stephen J. Vicchio tells of Cardinal Newman’s view in Vicchio’s The Legend of the Anti-Christ: A History, p. 314): “Newman goes on in the first advent sermon on the Anti-Christ to argue that some of these historical figures have been Antiochus IV Epiphanes and Julian, “who attempted to overthrow the Church by craft and introduce paganism back again …”. We shall conclude, still on an antichrist type, the “666” of Revelation, with Reginald Rabett’s comment (in GLateinos@; Lateinos; or, The only proper and appellative name of the man, p. 138): For example — If we were to speak of the Emperor JULIAN who is proverbially and emphatically styled THE APOSTATE, yet it would be necessary to use the Name - Julian - because it is the Proper Name of this Man; for were we to omit his Name, no one would of a certainty conclude that Julian the Apostate was meant; but probably Antiochus Epiphanès might be intended ....

Hadrian and Julian the Apostate

by Damien F. Mackey “… Julian … and Hadrian were both 'full of zeal for idolatry', 'superstitious […] astrologers wanting to know everything, so constantly inquisitive as to be accused of magic'.” Emperor and Author Some comparisons follow between Hadrian, his reign conventionally dated to c. 117-138 AD - but I have re-dated him to the Maccabean era: Time to consider Hadrian, that ‘mirror-image’ of Antiochus Epiphanes, as also the census emperor Augustus (4) Time to consider Hadrian, that 'mirror-image' of Antiochus 'Epiphanes', as also the census emperor Augustus | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu - and Julian ‘the Apostate’, his reign conventionally dated to c. 361-363 AD. From Emperor and Author: The Writings of Julian 'the Apostate', p. 307 (edited by Nicholas J. Baker-Brian, Shaun Tougher): What [Jean-Philippe-Rene de] La Bletterie says of Julian as Caesars' author differs markedly from his earlier characterization of him as emperor at the start of his 1735 biography; there, he represents Julian as as a ruler driven by 'an uncontrolled passion for glory' – one who pursued his policies with 'a kind of fanaticism', and who was not free of 'the faults which [his] amour propre perceive[d] only in others'. …. Just what La Bletterie was thinking of, on that last count, can be inferred from his note on the passage in Caesars in which Hadrian is teased as a star-gazer who was forever prying into ineffable mysteries (311d). La Bletterie was prompted to remark that much the same could be said of Julian: he and Hadrian were both 'full of zeal for idolatry', 'superstitious […] astrologers wanting to know everything, so constantly inquisitive as to be accused of magic'. And the likeness did not end there: Julian, assuredly, 'did not have the infamous [homosexual] vices of Hadrian […], but he had almost all his [other] faults and absurdities'; both of them were ‘fickle, obstinate, and vain of soul’…. Moreover, at one point in his comparison of Julian with Hadrian, La Bletterie entertains a possibility which would imply a very hostile view indeed of Julian: 'they both passed very wise laws and performed many merciful actions; but Hadrian seemed cruel sometimes, and some say that [“l'on dit que”] Julian was only humane out of vanity'. …. [End of quote] We read at: http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showthread.php?660191-Julian-the-Apostate-the-most-fascinating-quot-what-if-quot-in-late-Roman-history “Julian is often compared in character to Marcus Aurelius and Hadrian, indeed he is very much a blend of the two. He combines Hadrian's philhellenism with Marcus Aurelius' Stoicism, scholasticism, and militaristic determination”. From Ammianus Marcellinus, p. 309, by Gavin Kelly: “Ammianus …. rejects the comparison chosen by Valentinian's partisans to Aurelian .... He compares him to Hadrian in his depreciation of the well-dressed, the learned, the wealthy, the noble, the brave, 'so that he alone should appear to excel in fine abilities' (ut solus uideretur bonis artibus eminere, 30.8.10); Julian too had been compared to Hadrian in one of his faults .... His tendency towards timorousness is described …”. From Emperors and Historiography: Collected Essays on the Literature of the Roman ..., p. 315, by Daniel den Hengst: “… divination was practiced in an uncontrolled and lawless way affectata varietate, that is to say with overzealous efforts to practice all forms of divinatio. In the necrology Ammianus compares Julian to Hadrian in this respect. By doing so he harks back again to his description of Julian in Antioch, where Julian is characterized in this context as multorum curiosior. …. In this case, Julian may have been plagued by curiositas, but he shared this vice with a great predecessor [sic]. …. Hellenistically inclined Julian “the Apostate” “… it is … worth looking at Julian’s political platform, as it is fundamentally intertwined with his program of religious reform. Susanna Elm (2012) summarizes his efforts into three primary categories: “logoi, hiera, and the polis—Greek language and culture, its gods and all things sacred, and the city as the physical locus of Greek culture, government and religion”— and each would be amended by refocusing Roman culture around classical paideia …”. Adrian Scaife Like Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ “Antiochus Epiphanes thought nothing was more certain than that he would annihilate the Jewish nation. Julian the Apostate convinced himself that it was already in his power to uproot the Christian religion”. Herman J. Selderhuis (ed.) The above is a quote from the book, Psalms 1-72 (p. 14). If Julian ‘the Apostate’ bears comparison, at least to some extent, with the emperor Hadrian “… Julian … and Hadrian were both 'full of zeal for idolatry', 'superstitious […] astrologers wanting to know everything, so constantly inquisitive as to be accused of magic'.” then I might expect, also, some useful comparisons of Julian with Hadrian’s alter ego, king Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes, as according to my series: Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part One: “… a mirror image” https://www.academia.edu/32734925/Antiochus_Epiphanes_and_Emperor_Hadrian._Part_One_a_mirror_image_ Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part Two: “Hadrian … a second Antiochus” https://www.academia.edu/35538588/Antiochus_Epiphanes_and_Emperor_Hadrian._Part_Two_Hadrian_a_second_Antiochus_ Collin Garbarino talks about “an appropriation of the past” - {appropriation being a word I have been much inclined to use for when I consider pagans to have borrowed from the Hebrew scriptures but claimed the material as their own} - by Christian writers of the Maccabean period (“Resurrecting the martyrs: the role of the Cult of the Saints, A.D. 370-430”, 2010). Though, according to my radical revision of the Maccabees in relation to the Herodian era, the Maccabean martyrs at the time of Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ fall right into the period of the Infancy of Jesus Christ. Garbarino writes (emphasis added): https://digitalcommons.lsu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2348&context=gradschool_dissertations This appropriation of the past could even reach back farther than the time of Christ [sic]. During this expansion of the cult of martyrs in the fourth century, bishops began venerating the Maccabeans who died in the Seleucid persecutions of the 160s BC. The various books of Maccabees describe the deaths of faithful Jews at the hands of Seleucid oppressors because of their refusal to abandon the Torah. These stories contain many of the same elements that later characterized Christian martyrologies: trials designed to cause apostasy, tortures and promises given by the magistrate, and a confession of continued faith in God. In light of these commonalities, it is surprising that Christian communities did not adopt these Jewish saints earlier. The earliest extant evidence of Christians honoring the Maccabean martyrs is Gregory of Nazianzus’s Homily 15, On the Maccabees. …. Gregory probably preached this sermon in 362, during the reign of Julian the Apostate. …. He used the Maccabean situation to criticize in a veiled manner the anti-Christian policies of the emperor. In the sermon, he explicitly says that very few Christian communities honor these martyrs because their deaths predated Christ. …. Gregory, however, found their cult useful for promoting Christianization, and this sermon acts as a turning point for the Maccabees. Martha Vinson writes, “Before this sermon, the Maccabees are merely faces in a crowd of Old Testament exempla ... while after it, as the homiletic literature from the last decades from the fourth century attests, they have been singled out from the pack as the sole beneficiaries not only of encomia but of a well-established cult.” …. By the year 400, the Maccabees were being honored as Christian martyrs by preachers around the Mediterranean. [End of quote] Barry Phillips will write in a footnote (p. 129, n. 19) to his article “Antiochus IV, Epiphanes” (Journal of Biblical Literature, Vol. 29, No. 2, 1910): Dan. 11 st: " And arms shall stand on his part, and they shall pollute the sanctuary of strength, and shall take away the daily sacrifice, and they shall place the abomination that maketh desolate." Cf. 8 12 9 27 12 11, 1 Macc. 1 54, 2 Macc. 6 2. Hoffman, Antiochus Epiphanes, p. 80, essays to compare Antiochus and Julian. In so far as the ideas of both were out of harmony with the spirit of the times, there is an apparent similarity between the persecutions of Antiochus and of Julian, far less, however, than the dissimilarity, owing to the fact that whereas Julian sought the extinction of Christianity as an end, Antiochus sought the extinction of Judaism but as a means to an end. Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Julian ‘the Apostate’ are similarly likened to the Antichrist. For instance, Stephen J. Vicchio tells of Cardinal Newman’s view in Vicchio’s The Legend of the Anti-Christ: A History, p. 314): “Newman goes on in the first advent sermon on the Anti-Christ to argue that some of these historical figures have been Antiochus IV Epiphanes and Julian, “who attempted to overthrow the Church by craft and introduce paganism back again …”. We shall conclude, still on an antichrist type, the “666” of Revelation, with Reginald Rabett’s comment (in GLateinos@; Lateino, p. 138): For example — If we were to speak of the Emperor JULIAN who is proverbially and emphatically styled THE APOSTATE, yet it would be necessary to use the Name - Julian - because it is the Proper Name of this Man; for were we to omit his Name, no one would of a certainty conclude that Julian the Apostate was meant; but probably Antiochus Epiphanès might be intended .... Like Herod ‘the Great’ “Julian is also compared with Herod, as wise men whose behaviour is not particularly wise: "Yet is it not all kinde of learning or wisedome which is availeable for the true happinesse of a King or Kingdome (as may appeare in the miserable ends of Herod, and Iulian the Apostate, both in their kindes wise and learned) but wise behavior in a perfect way, that is, Wisdom mixed with Piety, guided by Religion, and sanctified with Grace".” Hakewill 50 On some particular likenesses between Julian and Herod, Manolis Papoutsakis has written (Vicarious Kingship: A Theme in Syriac Political Theology in Late Antiquity): Accordingly, Julian is identified with Herod the Great a “foreigner” and, by implication (cf. Deut 17:15), a “usurper” of the Judahite throne: Herod's disruption of the legitimate line of kings resulted in the adventus of Christ, who came in order to reclaim His Judahite inheritance, that is, the Royal Office (malkutá). In his verses against Julian, Ephrem elaborates upon the Julian/Herod comparison by forcefully reading 2 Thess 2:3 into the cluster consisting of Gen 49:10 a-b and Matthew 2. As a result, Julian, a “Herodian” king who disrupted the dynasty of Constantine, the new David”, is appositely presented as a θεομάχος and is implicitly identified with the Antichrist-figure par excellence, namely, the Apostate at 2 Thess 2:3 …. In GREGORY NAZIANZEN'S FIRST INVECTIVE AGAINST JULIAN THE EMPEROR, we read: http://www.tertullian.org/fathers/gregory_nazianzen_2_oration4.htm “Thou persecutor next |39 to Herod, thou traitor next to Judas, except so far as not ending thy life with, a halter, as he did;47 thou murderer of Christ next to Pilate; thou hater of God next to the Jews!” In Jacobus de Voragine’s The Golden Legend: Lives of the Saints, we read this comment regarding Julian and a Herod (this time, though, not ‘the Great’, but Herod Antipas): “Then Julian the apostate commanded that [John the Baptist’s] bones should be burnt. …. And like as Herod which beheaded him was punished for his trespass, so Julian the apostate was smitten with divine vengeance of God …”. Julian has been likened, in his death, to “Herod”, to “Antiochus”: https://www.lostplays.org/lpd/Julian_the_Apostate Robert Albott reports that "Iulian the Apostate, at his death cast vp his blood into the ayre, crying Vicisti Galilaee" (3) …. This reluctant acknowledgement that Christianity was to become the dominant religion of the Roman empire is a point frequently related in references to Julian. Henry Burton notes: "And as Iulian the Apostate, pulling the mortall dart out of his bowels, though therein he saw and felt the hand of Divine revenge, yet he vttered his confession thereof with the voyce of blasphemy, Vicisti Galilaee: and so breathed out his blasphemous spirit in a desperat impenitency" (74). Stephen Jerome similarly observes how "as you haue heard the godly praying, or praysing and blessing GOD, speaking graciously, sending out their spirits ioyfully, and dying comfortably: so prophane men dye eyther carelesly and blockishly," and relates that Julian the Apostate "in his last act of life, from his infected lungs sent out venome against Christ, calling him in dirision, victorious Galilean" (67-68). He also provides some early modern context for how Julian was perceived, citing "the examples of … Herod … Antiochus …. Adrian Scaife writes (“Julian the Apostle: The Emperor who “Brought Piety as it Were Back from Exile”.”, pp. 113, 118-119): …. it is still worth looking at Julian’s political platform, as it is fundamentally intertwined with his program of religious reform. Susanna Elm (2012) summarizes his efforts into three primary categories: “logoi, hiera, and the polis—Greek language and culture, its gods and all things sacred, and the city as the physical locus of Greek culture, government and religion”— and each would be amended by refocusing Roman culture around classical paideia (5). …. The allegories also contributed to a growing theurgical framework in Julian’s new paganism whereby the adherent could create a spiritual connection with the divine (a process that began in To the Cynic Heracleius), imitating the most humanistic aspect of the Christian faith (Athanassiadi 2015, 136). Once again the shadow of Christianity looms: Julian drew from the established practices of a Greek philosophical movement to produce a religious handbook of sorts that offered spiritual advice by way of allegories—a result openly reminiscent of Christian scripture/scriptural interpretation. Meanwhile, the Hymn to King Helios pulled explicitly from Mithraism in anointing the sun-god as the central divine force. But Julian managed to incorporate the traditional pantheon of gods, too, by assigning each of the Hellenic gods an aspect of the larger Mithraic figurehead. In one typical fusion, Julian writes, “Among the intellectual gods, Helios and Zeus have a joint or rather a single sovereignty” (Hymn to King Helios, 136A-B). He continues through the pantheon one-by-one, drawing from the inspiration of Plato, Homer, Hesiod, and others to assign the various parts of the whole that is Helios: Aphrodite accounts for Helios’ creative function; Athena embodies pure intellect; and so on (Hymn to King Helios, 138A ff). The unity of the various traditional gods into the “One” can be seen as a reflection of the Christian model Julian’s uncle first established, but it also embodies the central tenet of Neoplatonism (Athanassiadi 2015, 160). In that sense, Julian simultaneously achieved a complex synthesis of a theurgical Mithraism, the Platonic form, and traditional Hellenic mythology. The emperor’s religious program, responding to unique obstacles of Late Antiquity, accounted for the diverse local mythical legacies that were so important to civic identity and established a divinity embodying the shared Romanitas of a united Hellenic empire. ….