Tuesday 26 May 2020

Paul and the Tannaim: A Study in Galatians

By Daniel Hayden King

131 Connie Lee Ct., Lakeland, Florida 33805

I. Pauline Antithetic Response in Galatians

Several years ago the Swedish writer Hugo Odeberg correctly observed that
the antithesis between Christianity and Pharisaism was a fundamental one and was so interpreted by both parties. It was an antithesis—one might properly say an enmity—which was reflected in external and peripheral matters, so that, for example, one party denied the other the right of guidance and instruction or that the antithesis had its basis in inner competition for influence upon the people. But antithesis between Jesus and the Pharisees, between Paul and Judaism, also involved the extreme basic principles, teachings, and experiences upon the recognition or denial of which the entire existence of society was dependent.[1]
The “antithesis” or “enmity” which existed between the two religions, and to which Odeberg refers, was never more obvious than in the dialectic of Paul found in his letter to the Galatians. There was, moreover, reason for his hard and fast line of demarcation, which emphasized in no uncertain terms their antithetical nature. At Galatia Pharisaic-Christian teachers had invaded Paul’s Gentile mission and brought with them a more liberal approach, or perhaps we should say, “conservative” with respect to the law. As a result, “antithesis” had given way to a moderating stance. Conflict had given way to compromise. Confrontation had been replaced by conciliation. But the conciliation was not such as could be accepted by the orthodox representatives of either group. The conciliatory view sought to make more palatable certain elements of Gentile Christianity by bringing Jewish modes to farflung Galatia. How infuriated this encroachment made Paul is everywhere evident in the stinging, denunciatory language, the castigating remarks, the heated argumentation. But it is neither reckless nor crude. Instead, it is cooly reasoned and systematically set forth. For Paul to have approached his subject otherwise would have been disastrous for his cause in the central Asia Minor province and would have had ramifications in churches both far and near. So although his emotions were at a peak in this letter, yet are his thoughts collected and careful.

The approach he takes is almost thoroughly Pharisaic in terms of method and vocabulary. In this letter we are inclined to say that we come face to face with “Paul the Pharisaic scribe,” i.e. the ghost of “Rabbi Saul of Tarsus, who received from Rabbi Gamaliel.” We meet him elsewhere in the NT epistles, particularly in Romans, but nowhere so evidently and distinctly as here. Indeed, he speaks from the vantage point of a converted rabbi who has not forgotten a single element of his rabbinic instruction. He had rejected that life for another and considered it only a part of a remote past, something of him that was crucified with Christ (Gal 2:20). Yet in Galatia it had come back to haunt him, for there Jewish ways had quite suddenly become present reality and present praxis. Such a situation could not be tolerated by him, for the content of the resultant message was not that of the original Christian evangel. To his mind it was not only a “different” gospel, but not a gospel at all.

The preachers of the “new” gospel in Galatia, who were presumably visiting teachers, were also seeking to cast doubt on the authenticity and authority of Paul’s own apostleship. They insisted, apparently, upon the higher authority of certain apostles at Jerusalem. It was their allegation that Paul’s credentials were dubious and his teaching, at best, highly questionable. Paul wrote Galatians, then, in the first flush of his indignation and distress at hearing this news.[2]

II. Paul’s Opponents at Galatia

Who were Paul’s opponents at Galatia? Were they native Galatians or foreigners? Gentiles or Jews? These questions have troubled recent expositors of the letter, and yet everyone is agreed they stand at the center of the issues involved. Methodology and analytic procedure depend entirely upon their answers. Not only so, but the special problem of the cogency and propriety of our own conclusions hangs upon their answers. Thus, we must briefly pause to consider these matters before pursuing our main objective.

The traditional view is that the trouble-makers were overzealous Jewish Christians who were convinced that the sanctity of the law must be maintained and circumcision imposed.[3] Dissentient theories, though, have been proposed at different times in the last fifty years or so. Wilhelm Lütgert[4] and J. H. Ropes[5] have suggested that there was a group of Gentile “perfectionists” among the Jewish dissidents. They believed themselves to be superior to the law and to all recognized principles of morality. “You who are spiritual” of Gal 6:1 supposedly refers to this group. Both G. Duncan[6] and J. M. Creed[7] have refuted this view, however, pointing out that it makes Paul the Judaizer, which is unthinkable. There being no hard evidence in Galatians for existence of two parties, we may justly discount this view.

J. Munck[8] developed the thesis that the Judaizers were actually Galatians, who as Gentiles had no knowledge of Jewish Christianity or of the Jerusalem Twelve other than what they had gleaned from Paul himself. The approach which Paul takes in his refutation of their views militates strongly against this idea, however. Much of what the apostle says could not be fully appreciated without an accurate grasp of Jewish ideas and contemporary traditions. Paul depends far too heavily upon such notions (as we later hope to demonstrate) for us to be persuaded that Gentiles native to Galatia could have been the culprits. Their assertions relative to the authority structure backing them does not connect well with Paul either, but fits more propitiously a Jerusalemite contingent of renegade Jewish Christians.

F. C. Crownfield[9] has modified this view somewhat, arguing that the opposition comes from Jewish syncretists, possibly members of a Jewish mystery cult, whose approach was a search for illumination through legalism. The same criticisms apply to Crownfield’s views as to those of Munck, except that he is right in allowing for Jewish concerns as the prevailing emphasis.

A very different approach is taken by W. Schmithals,[10] who says the agitators were gnostics whose viewpoint and behavior had tendencies in the direction of libertinism. This view, however, is based upon some rather dubious suppositions. It supposes, for example, that the trouble-makers needed to be informed by Paul that submission to circumcision involved commitment to keep the whole law. Gnostic circumcision did not carry with it such a commitment. But Gal 5:3, to which Schmithals appeals, can be better understood as a reminder rather than a first intimation. Some of the expressions of the letter can be fitted into a gnostic mold (such as 4:8ff), but these can also be understood in relation to Jewish law. Indeed, it cannot be easily denied that the agitators were insisting on a close observance of the Torah, and this does not readily fit Schmithal’s theory. There is no evidence in Galatians that circumcision was regarded as a means of securing release from the flesh, which would have been expected of gnostic opponents.[11] As R. M. Wilson has pointed out,[12] we know so extremely little about gnosticism in its earliest stages that it is easy to draw overly emphatic conclusions, but it is very hard to produce the evidence necessary to establish them. Most of our information is drawn from sources too late to bear the weight of overly ponderous judgments which may, as a result, run the risk of anachronism.

Kümmel is correct in writing that “the opponents of Paul in Galatians were doubtless Jewish Christians who preached circumcision and fulfillment of the law.”[13] Whether they were directly connected with Jerusalem or not is not clearly stated, although it seems to be implied by the frequent references. Paul was not only reproached by them in general through the claim that his apostolic dignity was dependent upon others, but also in particular because he was inferior to the apostles of Jerusalem. He seeks to show that these charges are not historically correct (1:15ff). There is therefore some likelihood the Galatian opponents were somehow connected with the primitive church in Jerusalem, not with the “pillars,” as 2:6ff shows, but with the “false brethren” mentioned in 2:4.[14] That they came from outside the Galatian church seems to be indicated by the sudden and unexpected shift of mind which came over the church (1:6) and the fact that there was a struggle for the congregation’s allegiance (4:17). Paul always refers to the trouble-makers (1:8–10; 5:12; 6:12–13) as if they were separate from the Galatians themselves (3:1–5; 4:8–16; 5:7–8). Furthermore, Paul’s discussion of his relations with Jerusalem indicates clearly, to this writer at least, that he is dealing with persons who had access to detailed information which the Galatians would have had no way of getting except through Paul and his associates. What would have been their reason for bringing up such matters? The likelihood of such a refined exchange of information as to put Paul on the defensive is not especially likely. Instead, the fact that the agitators dwelt on Paul’s alleged dependency on Jerusalem indicates they themselves had a Jerusalem-oriented viewpoint. This, along with their possession of detailed information about the Judean church, would appear to point to either Judaea or Jerusalem itself as a place of origin. This also fits in well with Paul’s polemic against “the Jerusalem that now is “ (4:25–31) and his reference to the Judean churches (1:22).[15]

We are even willing to go as far as Klaus Wegenast,16 who identifies Paul’s opponents with the later Ebionites. From Epiphanius’ Against Heresies 30 (Panarium), dated ca. AD 374–77, we learn the following about this sect in its later manifestation: (1) they utilized a falsified and mutilated edition of the Gospel of Matthew called “According to the Hebrews”; (2) they were vegetarians; (3) they denied the supernatural birth of Jesus; and (4) they saw Jesus’ mission as having been the destruction of the Jewish sacrificial system (in keeping with their vegetarian ideals).17 Of the four basic points of this description, only point number one could be forced into the mold of the Galatian opponents, and that in light of Gal 1:6, 7 (“different gospel,” “another gospel,” “pervert the gospel of Christ”). Yet even there Paul does not make reference to a written gospel, a document, but rather to the entire Christian system. There is also the possibility that 5:3, “he is a debtor to do the whole law,” could be construed as a veiled advertence to the Ebionite proscriptions against the temple and sacrificial cult. In evaluating Epiphanius’ report, however, three considerations ought not be slighted. First, it should be remembered that Epiphanius vies with Jerome for the distinction of being the least to be trusted of the ancient fathers. Second, he was far removed from the most ancient Ebionites in time (ca. 300 years) and could have received traditions distorted by time and fertile imaginations. Third, those Ebionites against whom Epiphanius wrote could have been a very changed lot from those of earlier centuries. We do know, for instance, that their thinking changed radically with regard to Jesus; some Ebionites even came to accept the virgin birth. At any rate, what we read in Epiphanius is so late that he is of little value as a witness to early Ebionite thought.

Irenaeus is quite different. His testimony is earlier (ca. AD 182–88) and shows some elements clearly missing from the portrait of Epiphanius. In Against Heresies we learn that: (5) they believed in one God, the Creator; (6) they maintained that Paul was an apostate from the law, rejecting him as apostle and his writings as authoritative; (7) they practiced circumcision and persevered in the observance of those customs which were enjoined by the law; (8) they venerated Jerusalem as the house of God; (9) they denied the preexistence of the Logos and the incarnation; (10) they substituted water for wine in the Lord’s Supper. Close study of the Galatian epistle discloses that three of these six points fit Paul’s opponents perfectly and the first and last two may be counted as later developments.

There is no hint of there ever having been any question about the one God who created all, i.e. Christological issues must wait for another time. But the matter of the apostleship and authority of Paul is very much at issue in Galatians. True apostleship, they evidently claimed, required a direct commission from Christ, yet Paul had no independent knowledge of Christianity beyond what he had learned in Jerusalem from the Twelve (chaps. 1 and 2). He preached the gospel in a distorted form. He desired to please men, and so dispensed a gospel which had been accommodated to Gentile tastes at crucial points.[18] There is no substantive difference between Ebionite thought and the thought of the Galatian agitators at this juncture. At Galatia circumcision was a potent issue, mentioned thirteen times in the letter, and at the heart of the controversy. The Jewish calendar of feasts and fasts had also been imposed upon the disciples in the province (4:10). That they venerated Jerusalem in Galatia is apparent from his argument against dependence upon the authorities in that city as well as the unique dialectic of 4:21–31.

Finally, it will be noticed that in the description given by Irenaeus the Ebionites are not called vegetarians, although aversion to wine is mentioned. This could have been a later development. It is possible their antipathy to the sacrificial cult moved along the same lines as other Christians in an ideological declaration that the system of animal sacrifice was fulfilled in the offering of the body of the Messiah “once for all” (Heb 9:28; 10:1–10; etc.). Perhaps their vegetarianism and aversion to wine stemmed from the destruction of the temple. The Talmud informs us that after the temple was destroyed “the number of the abstemious in Israel was increased who would neither eat flesh nor drink wine.” When Rabbi Joshua approached them and asked them why they did so, he was told: “How can we eat flesh, seeing that flesh was offered upon the altar, and how can we drink wine, seeing that wine was used in libations upon the altar, and all has now ceased.”[19] “The abstemious” or “separated ones” in Hebrew is perušim. We shall have reference to this later. It is important to note here that there were Jews who abstained from both meat and wine after the temple fell and to point out that there is no allusion to these ascetic customs among the opponents of Paul at Galatia. The Ebionites of Irenaeus’ time, a century after the temple met its fated end, were vegetarians, and even went so far as to “reject the commixture of the heavenly wine, and wish it to be water of the world only,” consecrating the element of water alone in the eucharistic cup. This connection with the center of Judaism handily explains the disapproval of meat and wine on their part at a later time and may well explain the fact that they were not ascetically oriented in the time of Paul.

Later writers embellish the description of Ebionites with the following details: (11) they lived in a state of “holy poverty”; (12) they practiced frequent ritual washings; (13) their sect was founded by a certain Ebion; and (14) they believed Jesus became the Messiah because he obeyed the Jewish law. In this group, number eleven would appear to fit in light of Paul’s references to poverty (Gal 2:10 and 4:9 (Gal 4:9}). In Gal 2:10 he is evidently referring to the genuine poor (ptōchōn) as opposed to that poverty which was self-inflicted and for the sake of self-aggrandizement; and in 4:9 (Gal 4:9} he employs ptōcha which is used occasionally in the LXX to translate ʾebiônim, doing so in a distinctly pejorative sense. That the Galatian heretics practiced frequent ritual washings would seem to follow, though it is not directly alluded to. If they were so inseparably wed to Judaism as the letter seems to imply, is it reasonable to assume they left out this important feature of the daily Jewish regimen?

The idea that the sect was started by Ebion is no doubt a later speculation and certainly wrong. In his Epistle to the Philadelphians (penned before 107), Ignatius makes allusion to the etymology of the name, discounting any specific individual’s having worn it: “And such a man is poor in understanding, even as by name he is an Ebionite.” The name more likely arose from their fondness for “sacred poverty,” or else through their identification of themselves with the pious poor of Scripture (Job 5:15; 34:28; 36:15; Ps 9:18; 10:14; 12:5; 34:6; etc.) and of Christ’s teachings (Matt 5:3; 11:5; Luke 4:18; 6:20; 7:22; 14:13, 21; etc.), perhaps both.

The final point may be regarded as fitting into a later period in the development of Ebionite thought. It belongs more properly to the age when questionings about the nature of Christ were the focus of Christian attention. It is perfectly consistent with the theology of the Galatian heretics to allow that their thought may have eventually moved in this direction, however.

In our view the Ebionite thesis of Wegenast is on target. Either the opponents of Paul were Ebionites or they were so like what we would expect of them at this early date that this movement, as it found expression at Galatia and elsewhere, was the spiritual father of that sect.[20]

III. Pharisaism and the Propaganda Campaign

What was the relation of the Galatian trouble-makers to the difficulties mentioned in Acts 15? We cannot answer this question with absolute certainty, but there are several things we may be confident about which lead us to believe there was a relation. The teachers at Galatia subsumed the gospel under the larger category of Judaism. Evidently appealing to the promises to Abraham and his seed, these “Judaizers” taught that salvation depended upon the covenant of circumcision which God had concluded with Abraham as well as upon faith in Jesus as Messiah. In order to become a Christian, then, a Gentile had first to become a full proselyte to Judaism, submitting to circumcision and showing himself zealous for the law.[21] Similarly, Acts 15 states that a group with comparable convictions troubled the Gentile church in Antioch of Syria (vv 1–2). When Paul reached Jerusalem to converse with the apostles and elders in connection with this matter, he met with opposition from Christians who held to Pharisaic training with a vigor and zeal characteristic of that sect (15:4, 5). When the subject of the new influx of Gentile converts to Christianity arose, they announced: “It is necessary to circumcise them, and to charge them to keep the law of Moses.”

Their Pharisaic roots ran deep! There is in fact little reason to believe the later decrees of the apostles and elders stifled those beliefs or quelled their promotion of them among the Gentile converts with which they came into contact. Both in 2 Corinthians and Galatians Paul met with opposition of the sort which easily fits this description. There is therefore little need to look elsewhere when the case for believing Pharisaic Judaizers meets with not a single unanswerable difficulty.

First-century attitudes among Jews, known to us from the Pharisaic viewpoint, included the baptism of proselytes. From the Mishna[22] we are able to conclude they were baptized at a very early period, certainly during temple days, since eating of the Paschal lamb is at issue in the context. The heathen was looked upon as being in a state of uncleanness and must, at least as emphatically as the Jew in a similar state, have undergone the ritual of bathing. Only in a state of ritual cleanness could the newcomer be “received under the wings of the Divine Presence”[23] —a common rabbinic phrase for proselytism. It was derived from Boaz’s greeting to Ruth, the ideal type of all proselytes: “The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust.”[24] So, “Our sages have taught in the Mishna: ‘To anyone who desires to become a proselyte they stretch out a hand, in order to bring him under the Wings of the Shekina.’“[25] Previous to his baptism, the candidate had to be taught and circumcised. Another early text tells of the rabbinic instruction of a convert and subsequent details which brought him into full fellowship with the community:
They receive him at once, and they explain to him some of the lighter and some of the heavier commandments…. They do not, however, tell him too much, or enter into too many details. If he assents to all, they circumcise him at once, and when he is healed, they baptise him, and two scholars stand by, and tell him of some of the light and some of the heavy laws. When he has been baptised, he is regarded in all aspects as an Israelite.[26]
To the Judaizers this system was still effectual. One additional “heavy commandment” had been written into the creed: faith in Jesus as Messiah. Conversely, Paul had preached throughout the Diaspora that Christian baptism put one into full communion with the church (Gal 3:26, 27) without any necessity for submitting to circumcision or proving oneself zealous for the law. Paul had made it evident he was their enemy in the confrontation which erupted at Jerusalem to their hurt, and they were quick to undermine any authority he might have with those they instructed in Galatia. But as propagandists they proceeded both carefully and maliciously. They did not ruthlessly repudiate Paul, who from the beginning was highly venerated in Galatia (Gal 4:12–14), but confined themselves to criticizing and disparaging him. They evidently claimed:

(1) Paul was on their side but had trimmed the demands of the gospel to please his hearers (1:10). He had always preached circumcision (5:11) and been zealous for the law (1:14). Perhaps the story of what he had done with Timothy at Lystra had come to them in Galatia and the opponents had capitalized upon this concession (Acts 16:1–3).

(2) He received his gospel from the same Jerusalem authorities who supported their mission (1:18–2:9; and 1:11). This is general knowledge because Paul is well known in the Judean churches on account of his many visits through the years (1:22). He was obliged to go to Jerusalem (2:2), since he is subordinate to the apostles of Jerusalem (1:16, 17; 2:6, 11–21) and must abide by the decisions arrived at in that city. If we were to assume that the shorter text of Gal 2:4, supported by Codex D, Irenaeus, Tertullian, and others is correct, we could add that he was compelled to circumcise Titus. The bulk of evidence is against it, however.

(3) In Paul’s work as a representative of the “pillars” (1:12, 15–19) he began a work which they had come to complete (3:3). In order not to offend the Galatians while they were still pagans (1:10), Paul softened some features of the faith. The aim of these teachers was to finish the work begun by him, by informing them of the final step which guaranteed their perfection—circumcision.[27]

From the preceding we may easily ascertain what the major issue was and from whence it came. All the peripheral casuistry revolves around the central theme of the seat of authority. It is assumed by Paul’s opponents that: (a) Jerusalem is the seat of authority; (b) the Jerusalem apostles were the “pillars” of the church; and (c) Paul derived his gospel and his limited authority from them. For them this was the chink in Paul’s armor. Here he was most vulnerable.

What is the source of their conception of Paul’s station? If they were truly Pharisees, as we have argued, they may have felt Paul was merely another link in a line of tradition, a tanna. He had received his gospel from others (the Jerusalem apostles), who had received theirs from the Rabbi (Jesus). But with Paul the chain had been broken since he had not faithfully administered the instructions. To fully comprehend the ramifications of that which we have forwarded here, it will be helpful to briefly summarize Pharisaic thinking on this count.

In the days of the Second Temple, the Pharisees attained power and position by virtue of their knowledge and the ability to transmit that knowledge. If hardly any names of Sadducean scribes have come down to us, it is only partly due to the fact that the tradition of the whole period ultimately remained in the hands of Pharisaic scholars. True, they alone, so far as we know, established the genealogical tree of tradition; they did this to prove the legitimacy of their teachings by virtue of the uninterrupted succession of their teachers. The reason only Pharisaic scribes are known to us in the sources also lies in the circumstance that scriptural erudition, which necessarily evolved from Pharisaism, was essentially its province.[28]To them the Bible had a twofold function: it was the written book, read again and again and copied over; and it was the book revealed and preached by the people, the “oral teaching” that was proclaimed, listened to, and handed on. When a religious idea was discovered in the Bible and presented by a true teacher, it was like a revelation from God. After all, it came from the Word of God, deduced from it by one of the masters. All were thus obligated to learn it and guard it. The Pharisaic scholar had the special duty of inscribing upon his memory the words of his master. So, an inward tie between disciple and teacher linked each succeeding generation through the “chain of tradition,” and preserved Pharisaic thought. The word šemuʾah, which in the Bible meant prophetic understanding and which was also used for that which the disciple had heard from his teacher, had a ring of sacred obligation. Every disciple was to be a “witness” of his teacher, a bearer of pure and genuine testimony to what his teacher had said. The teacher lived on in his disciples. “His lips,” to quote a saying of the time, “should speak from his grave.”[29]

The tradition itself had to be guarded with the greatest caution, so as not to allow it to be perverted or distorted. An ancient rule for the rabbis’ pupils was formulated in this way: “It is a man’s duty to state (a tradition) in his teacher’s words.”[30] A pupil was duty-bound to maintain the teacher’s exact words, but the teacher was also partly responsible. The oral material which the teacher wished to transmit to his pupils was not merely to be read out in the course of teaching. He repeated it over and over again, until he had actually passed it on to his student, i.e. until it was known by heart and could be repeated. If this process required hundreds of repetitions (as it apparently did with certain dull students), then the time and effort had to be expended. The continuity of the tradition depended upon the diligence of both teacher and pupil and could not be short-circuited.[31]

For the student to forget a single word vouchsafed to him was considered a sin of the greatest magnitude:
R. Dostai, the son of Yannai, said in the name of R. Meir, Whoso forgets one word of his study, him the Scripture regards as if he had forfeited his life; for it is said, Only take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen (Deut 4:9).[32]
The pupil was expected to transmit his teacher’s words to his own pupils in the precise wording spoken in his hearing, and to do so “in the name” of his teacher:
The Torah is acquired by forty eight (qualifications). And these are they: By audible study; by distinct pronunciation…by being composed in one’s study; by asking and answering, hearing and adding thereto; by learning with the object of practising; by making one’s master wiser, fixing attention upon his discourse, and reporting a thing in the name of him who said, So thou hast learnt, Whoever reports a thing in the name of him that said it brings deliverance into the world; as it is said, And Esther told the king in the name of Mordecai (Esth 2:22).[33]
These references aid in piecing together the puzzle which is the mind-set of the Judaizers of Galatia. The line of reasoning employed by Paul in his refutation of their claims makes this apparent. They have insinuated that Paul was on the receiving end of a line of tradition which began with Jesus and was mediated to Paul by the Jerusalem apostles, but that he had been unfaithful in discharging his obligation of repeating the words of his master with precision. He was guilty of iterative incompetence. Contra the insinuations of the agitators, he maintained that his gospel was not of human origin; Christ had communicated it to him in person. He was also careful to assure his readership the pillars of the church in Jerusalem had recognized its truth and his right to preach it in its present form. He denied the charge of tanna-oriented dependency, but also maintained consistency with Jerusalem on all important matters.

The account of relations with the Jerusalem church during the seventeen years following his conversion (1:11–2:14) has as its raison d’être the “clearing of the air” on these questions. Instead of going to Jerusalem previous to beginning his preaching, as a pupil of tannaitic teachers would have been constrained to do, he went to Arabia (1:17). After a time he returned to Damascus. He still did not go to Jerusalem. His first visit there came three years after this when he went to “visit” Peter—not to consult with him or learn from him. Even then he stayed but fifteen days, far too short a period for the tannaitic process of instruction, repetition, memorization, and retention. While there he saw no other apostle save James the Lord’s brother (1:18–20). Then he left for Syria and Cilicia, and not until another fourteen years had passed did he visit Jerusalem again. This time it was in response to a revelation from the Lord, and not a summons by authorities in the Holy City. It was the purpose of his second visit to assure that Jewish Christians would treat uncircumcised Gentile Christians as their equals (2:2). Making a test case of Titus, he won his point (2:3–5). The apostles in Jerusalem agreed that an uncircumcised Gentile should enjoy full fellowship and equality without becoming a member of the synagogue by circumcision. But as far as the nature of his message and the full weight of his apostolic authority was concerned, he says, “They…added nothing to me” (2:6). They recognized that his mission to the Gentiles was on the same footing as theirs to the Jews (2:7–10). So far from Paul being subordinated, when Peter came to Antioch and wavered on eating with Gentile Christians, Paul did not hesitate to rebuke him in public (2:11–14).[34]

Paul’s defence of his apostolic commission took the heart out of their reasoning. A Jewish rabbi debating the application of the kosher laws would quote the authority of Moses and the fathers in support of his views. Tradition declared that God delivered the Torah to Moses, Moses to Joshua, Joshua to the elders, the elders to the men of the Great Synagogue, and they handed it down through an unbroken rabbinical succession to the present.[35] If Paul had seen himself as no more than a Christian rabbi who treated the Sermon on the Mount as a new law from a new Sinai, which God had delivered to Jesus, Jesus to Peter, Peter to Paul, and Paul to Timothy and Titus—then he would not have minded their viewing him thus. But for Paul Christ was not to be confused or combined with Moses. He must be all in all. And as an apostle of Christ he himself must not be treated as a mere link in the chain of authority, so that men would ask, “What did Paul say, that Peter said, that Jesus said, that Moses said?” Paul wanted no such secondary position for Jesus behind Moses and he would allow no such subordinate role for himself in a chain of tradition.

In order to discredit their propaganda, Paul shifted the emphasis away from religious tradition and onto his personal commission by Christ. After all, he had directly communicated with Jesus; what need would he have to derive his apostolic message or commission from those who were his equals but not his superiors?[36]
For I would have you know, brethren, that the gospel which was preached by me is not man’s gospel. For I did not receive (parelabon) it from man, nor was I taught (edidachthēn) it, but it came to me through a revelation (apokalupseōs) of Jesus Christ [1:11–12].
Attempts by Davies[37] and Otto[38] at blurring the obvious sense of paralambanō and paradidonai (corresponding to qibbel and masar in the rabbinical literature), as reflected in 1 Cor 11:23 as well as Gal 1:11–12, have proven unsatisfactory. Davies himself admits qibbel implies the direct reception of specific words.[39] Indeed, Paul’s argument turns upon the idea inherent in this term and such a forceful contextual demand may not be so easily dismissed.[40]

Early Christianity’s concept of the apostolate seems to have had two main roots. On the one hand, they built on the basis of those ideas, shaped and determined with legal precision, as to what constitutes a human apostle, or “sent one” (apostolos, šaliah). Such a one must be authorized and sent by the originator of the commission in person, and not through some other intermediary or agency, as another apostle.[41] On the other hand, they utilized traditional ideas of the distinction between what God brings about direct, unmediated, and what he does through an intermediary (mediator, angel, or man)[42] and the distinction which always obtained between the prophet, called and provided with his message direct from heaven, and the one who only transmits what has previously been revealed. Both prophet and teacher are considered to have been equipped with the Word of God, but the prophet has a different and superior standing from a mere teacher, since he has been sent by God directly, and hence, is an “Apostle of God.” The rabbis called certain of the OT prophets šeluhim, i.e. the ones who worked miracles.[43] The early church’s concept of apostleship was not, however, limited to these presuppositions, but also (and primarily) relied upon the traditions about the teaching and actions of Jesus and his meetings with those whom he “sent.”[44]

The opponents had cheapened Paul’s apostolate by making it synonymous with the concept of “teacher,” “rabbi,” or “tanna.”[45] In order to demonstrate the deception employed, he met the issue head-on, forcefully announcing at the very beginning of his letter, “Paul an apostle—not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father!” (Gal 1:1). In the midst of his further affirmation, he persisted with the assertion: “When it was the good pleasure of God, who separated me from my mother’s womb and called me through his grace, to reveal his Son in me…” (1:15–16). He is claiming for himself the title “Apostle of God,” and contending he is on a par with the šeluhim of the OT. His language is intentionally reminiscent of prophetical texts affirming prophetic selection and calling by God even prior to birth (Isa 49:1, 5; Jer 1:5).

There may also be a veiled anti-Pharisaic reference present in Paul’s choice of the word aphorizō, “separate” in Gal 1:15. According to Heinrich Schlier[46] Paul thus intimates either the Hebrew paruš or the Aramaic perišah. J. W. Doeve[47] argues that the readers would hardly have understood the reference. But we are inclined to disagree. If the former term is intended, then Paul is suggesting that although he was a Pharisee (“separated one”) before he became a Christian, still he was never truly “separated” for God’s purpose until he fulfilled God’s mission for him, i.e. the proclamation of a law-free gospel. Pharisaic Judaizers would have had no trouble following the implications of either his language or his insinuation.

Another apparent charge which had been circulated at Galatia to discredit Paul in the province had to do with his inferior status in relation to the so-called “pillar” apostles. In Gal 2:9 these persons, thus rather cryptically described, are identified with James, Cephas, and John—whom we may take to be the Lord’s brother (cf. 1:19) and the two fisherman apostles who occupy so prominent a place in the synoptic gospels and the early chapters of Acts. The use of “pillar” (stulos) to describe one who himself stands firm and is the support of other men, or of an institution, is an evident one, and has been illustrated over a wide range of literature. In this sense it was employed in the classical sources.[48] Annand[49] believes the reference is to the three “turning posts” or “markers” which stood together at both ends of the long low wall, built in the center of the arena, around which chariots or runners raced. These turning posts (called metae) were three tall wooden cylinders of a conical shape, like cypress trees or huge old-fashioned candles. Thus, according to this reconstruction, Paul had gone to the three Jerusalem leaders (“the markers”) to recite his gospel message to make sure that he was not “running on the wrong track.” This view does not, however, consider the fact that the most common word for the turnposts is stēlai, not stuloi. Likewise, the classical use of stulos and columen (columna) is quite irrelevant to a consideration of the meaning of Gal 2:9.

Barrett[50] is correct in looking to the LXX to find the Hebrew equivalent ʾamud, or possibly yesôd as the key. The former term is found in at least two rabbinic passages (which are duplicates) in which a living person is referred to as a “pillar.” Here[51] Johannan b. Zakkai, who had lived through the crisis of AD 66–70, and done so much to reestablish Judaism on a firm basis after the catastrophe, is found by his disciples weeping on his death-bed. Surprised that so great a man should show such dread at the approach of death, they asked him: “Lamp of Israel, right hand pillar, strong-hammer, why do you weep?” (‘Abot R. Nat. 25: “Rabbi, lofty pillar, light of the world, strong hammer, why do you weep?”). The allusion in Berakot is evidently to the pillar Jachin, set up, with its left-hand partner Boaz, in the temple by Solomon (1 Kgs 7:21). This single example is sufficient to show that “pillar” was not an impossible designation for a distinguished person. Another rabbinic saying posits that: “On three things does the world stand [ʿômed]: the Torah, the (temple-) service, and deeds of loving kindness.”[52] What is fundamentally the same conviction was expressed in another way in the statement that Israel itself (as the home of the Torah, temple-service, and good works) was essential to the continuing existence of the world.[53] Another important passage speaks of Abraham and Moses as “pillars of the world.”[54] Behind this figurative language lies the conviction that the unquestioning obedience of the founders of Israel represents an attitude to God without which the world itself could not endure.[55]

R. Aus has noted that although rabbinic writings can at times speak of twelve pillars supporting the world, or of seven, or of one, they much more frequently speak of three. Traditions concerning three human beings list the three sons of Korah; Daniel’s three friends Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah; Adam, Noah, and Abraham; and the three patriarchs.[56] From this he draws the conclusion:
I would suggest that the number three in Gal 2:9 is due to a deliberate selection of the Aramaic-speaking Jerusalem church of three disciples/apostles as community leaders on the basis of the model of the three Patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, thought of in Rabbinic sources as the three pillars of Israel, indeed, of the entire world…. James, Cephas (Peter) and John were thought of as pillars by the earliest Jerusalem congregation. As God once “established the world,” the covenant community Israel, on the basis of the three Patriarchs, so in the messianic period, inaugurated by the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, God was thought of by Jewish Christians as having “established the world” anew, the new covenant community, the “Israel of God,” to employ Paul’s phrase from Gal 6:16, on the basis of three new pillars.[57]
Actually there is no evidence the early Jerusalem church, aside from its Pharisaic members, ever so viewed James, Cephas, and John. In Gal 2:9 we are dealing with terminology utilized by the Judaizers at Galatia and borrowed from the thought-world of the Pharisaic background. It is not at all likely that Paul introduced this appellative into the discussion. His fourfold use of dokein[58] is striking and can hardly be fortuitous when applied to the “pillars” in 2:9. His use of the word undoubtedly suggests seeming without being, as is further manifested by his recounting of the events at Antioch where Cephas proved himself to be anything but a pillar (2:11–21). In 4:12, however, Paul is not placing himself over against Cephas as Stanley suggests[59] but over against the Judaizers. The apostolic traditions as represented by his kerugma and his own life provide the community of faith in Galatia with the necessary examples for “imitation.” No other type of Christianity is to be admitted. But his earlier point that his gospel was fully consistent with that of the “pillars” (2:1–10) should not be neglected. He wants it understood that Peter and Paul are not at odds with one another in theory, but Peter’s practice was, for a time at least, inconsistent with Peter’s preaching (2:11–14).

IV. Paul’s Use of Scripture

Throughout the letter to Galatia Paul answers his accusers as a Pharisee who has become a Christian, but who yet prides himself in the learning he gained as a Pharisee. He wishes to impress his hearers with his own superior qualifications as he does also in 2 Cor 11:22, 23: “Are they Hebrews? So am I! Are they Israelites? So am I! Are they servants of Christ? I am a better one!” At the school of Gamaliel he received his earliest convictions and the bulk of his intellectual vocabulary, the treasure of a rabbinic education. He was therefore not to be treated in such a disrespectful fashion by those who could not hold a candle to his earlier station—previous to his selection by Christ as apostle (cf. 1:13, 14)—not to mention that which he presently enjoyed.

To demonstrate his competence as well as the propriety of his viewpoint, a Pharisaic scribe must prove himself by Scripture.[60] This Paul does with both formal quotations[61] and implicit ones (reminiscences)[62] in the epistle. In the manner of his proof a rabbi must utilize specific interpretive methods and principles which have been tried and proven by past masters of the art. Bonsirven[63] has outlined Paul’s interpretive techniques, and in doing so has called attention to the relation of his argument to those common to Paul and the rabbis:

A. Exegesis Based on Explicit Citations
1. Application of fulfilled prophecies (3:13). 
2. Demonstration by exploitation of the strictest sense of a word (3:10). 
3. Deductions: Exclusion of the contradictory by the application of the opposite principle (3:11, 12). 
4. Formulation of theological theses (3:6, 11). 
5. Simple allegations from texts (5:14).
B. Indirect Exegesis
1. Homiletical application of a moral sentence-command (3:11). 
2. A deduction from a biblical text (3:8, 9). 
3. A conclusion founded on the strict sense of a term (3:16). 
4. Typological exegesis:
a. Exemplarism (3:8). 
b. Israel the type of the church (6:16). 
5. Parabolical exegesis; allegory (4:21–31).
C. Suppositional Exegesis from Implicit Citation: Theological Theses (2:16).[64]

Paul’s motive is clear in this: to devastate the opposition with a barrage of arguments suited to the occasion. Since he was dealing with antagonists who highly respected legal precision, he availed himself of a polemic which exploited the finest of biblical interpretive methodology. We shall briefly comment on a few passages which further illustrate this intentionality.

1. Gal 3:2, 14. Lagrange[65] refers to the fact that whereas in Paul the Holy Spirit is the result of faith in Christ, in rabbinic Judaism it is the reward of works (Gal 3:2, 14). That too much can be made of this contrast, however, has been cogently argued by Davies.[66] Judaism knew of a merit not only of the Torah but of faith as well.[67] R. Eleazer of Modiim (ca. AD 120) said there is no need to provide for tomorrow, to gather wealth, but, “have faith, and God will not forsake you.”[68] There are also passages among the sayings of the rabbis which connect faith and the Holy Spirit.[69]

In Galatians and Romans, where Paul is consciously presenting the claims of his gospel as opposed to those of Judaism, justification by faith is emphasized. Since Christ had replaced the Torah as the center of his religious life, he in his controversy with those who yet insisted on the centrality of Torah and the necessity of obedience to it, offered scriptural support for his position. He did this by a special appeal to Gen 15:6 and Hab 2:14, on the basis of which he could argue that faith rather than works done to satisfy the requirements of Torah was, according to Scripture itself, the basis of salvation.[70]

His conceptual understanding is roughly the same as that found in a rabbinic text[71] wherein the history of the world is presented in three epochs: (1) chaos (tôhubôhu); (2) the period of Torah, beginning at Sinai; and (3) the age of the Messiah. Thus, the age of the Messiah’s advent would consummate the period of Torah, so that it could be reasoned that if Torah was still effectual and obligatory, then the Messiah had not come. However, the center of Paul’s thought is not in his attack on the old Torah, but in his awareness that with the coming of the Messiah the “Age to Come” had become present fact, the proof of which was the advent of the Spirit. To the rabbis the Holy Spirit could only be experienced in a fitting age. The weight of the evidence suggests that the activity of the Holy Spirit was regarded as a past phenomenon in Israel’s history, a phenomenon which had indeed given Israel her Torah, her prophets, and the whole of her Scriptures, but which had ceased when the prophetic office closed.[72] But Judaism cherished a strong expectation of the Holy Spirit in the future. This expectation was vital in the OT as is shown by passages in Ezekiel, Isaiah, and Joel. The rabbinic Judaism of the first century regarded the Messianic Age or the “Age to Come” as the era of the Spirit: “The Holy One, blessed be He, said: In this world individuals were given prophetic power, but in the world to come all Israel will be made prophets, as it is said (Joel 2:28)…”[73]

2. Gal 3:6. C. K. Barrett[74] asks whether the use of kathōs in 3:6 may not be explained as taking up a passage that Paul’s opponents had quoted. In fact, its usage here is rather clumsy unless it is read that way. If we read it with Barrett it would say something like this: “I know that the Judaizers quote Gen 15:6 to you, but what I have told you is not contradicted by but is in accordance with the true meaning of that verse.” That Paul found it necessary to dispute their understanding of Gen 15:6 we know from Rom 4, where he uses the exegetical device of the ḡezera šawa to prove that the verse refers to a nonimputing of sin. According to this principle (the second of Hillel’s middôt), when the same word occurs in two biblical passages, each can be used to illustrate the other. In Rom 4 Paul uses Ps 32 to establish his interpretation; in Gal 3 he quotes Gen 12:3; 18:18 to show the interest of the Gentiles in the promise to Abraham. Since these by definition are not circumcised and do not keep the law their participation in the promise is due to faith independent of the law, and this both confirms the interpretation of Gen 15:6 and leads to the next step in the argument. Barrett is definitely right to take 3:6 along with 3:10 and 3:16 as instances where Paul corrects the exegesis of his detractors, showing that their OT prooftexts were on his side rather than theirs.

3. Gal 3:10–11a. The assertion of Gal 3:10–11a is that no one can be righteous before God. This is proven by Paul—apart from the intrinsic “unfulfillability” of the law—in vv 11–12 from the consideration that, according to the rules of talmudic hermeneutics, the law cancels itself. Paul in fact uses the method later canonized in the thirteenth midda or exegetical principle of R. Ishmael, viz. if two verses appear to be contradictory, one should find a third verse in order to overcome the difficulty. Hab 2:4, “He who through faith is righteous shall live,” and Lev 18:5, “He who does them shall live by them,” seem to be at odds with one another. Hence the question whether works of Torah or faith yield the way of life. A further text from the Torah, which was previously quoted as a basis for the whole discussion, gives the solution, and in verse 14 is recapitulated in the word eulogia: “Abraham believed God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.” The following verses merely draw out the consequences of this solution, suggesting that the counting of faith as righteousness excludes the law.[75]

4. Gal 3:16. Rigorous philology and exegesis characterized all the rabbis. In considering the promise made to Abraham, that the law cannot render it void (3:16), a single biblical word proves suggestive for Paul. The promises are addressed as well to the descendants (tō spermati) of Abraham (Gen 13:15 and 17:8). In halakic fashion, he points out that God did not say “to seeds” (lizraʿim; tois spermasin) as of many, but “to his seed”; this seed is Christ, whom God has made the heir of all things. The conclusion is that all who belong to Christ are Abraham’s seed (sperma) and heirs according to the promise (v 29). Paul here uses an excellent rabbinic form.[76] Rabban Gamaliel handles Deut 1:8 with a similar line of argumentation: “He did not say ‘to you’ [lakem], but ‘to them’ [lahem].” The whole issue hangs on a single word. In the rabbinic text the person is accentuated, Paul (like Philo) stresses the importance of the number.[77] Daube cites a haggada about the creation of man, wherein a generic singular is turned into a specific one to prove primal man was androgenous. This interpretation was famous in the talmudic era, but there is little probability Paul was drawing directly from it as he suggests.[78] Paul’s argument may be taken as proof a very early tradition of such rabbinic exegesis existed. He probably drew upon his training under Gamaliel when he offered this argument.

5. Gal 3:17. Another early haggadic teaching stated that when God concluded with Abraham the covenant “between the pieces,” he foretold: “Thy seed shall be a stranger in a land not theirs, and they shall serve them and they shall afflict them four hundred years” (Gen 15:13). The four hundred years created a problem for the rabbis, since according to the story of the exodus the sojourning in Egypt was four hundred and thirty years (Exod 12:40). Their solution—adopted by the Septuagint and Josephus—was (if we disregard the more subtle datings) that the covenant with Abraham was made thirty years before Isaac’s birth hence God predicted only four hundred years of trouble for Abraham’s descendants. Paul was probably following what was a common rabbinic explanation in his own time as well as later.[79]

6. Gal 3:19. In 3:19 Paul refers to the presence of angels at the giving of the law at Sinai (cf. the LXX to Deut 33:2). In later talmudic thought the idea of angelic mediation is quite elaborate, certainly beyond this simple allusion.[80] Paul utilizes what was undoubtedly an early haggada tradition to vitiate the influence of the law. It was diatageis di[ angelōn en cheiri mesitou, “ministered through angels by the hand of a mediator.” Moreover, the law was given only temporarily, as he says, achris hou elthē to sperma ho epēngeltai, “until the seed should come to whom the promise was made.” The combination “the law and the Messiah” was for Paul, on account of a single halaka reflection, an impossibility of thought. In his mind it shaped itself into a sharp alternative: “the law or the Messiah.” In rabbinic thought the two-thousand-year era of the Mosaic Torah which followed upon the two thousand years of tôhubôhu would usher in the age of the Messiah.[81] The law had validity until “all things were fulfilled,” and Paul deduces from his faith that the Messiah has come in the person of Jesus the conclusion: “Christ is the end of the law” (Rom 10:4); or, since Christ is the “seed” (Gal 3:19), then Christians are not under the law (Gal 3:25). The validity of the law as a divine way of salvation has finished since the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, which proves both his Messianic status and the inbreak of the last age: “I through the law died to the law” (Gal 2:19). This fact implies the rabbinic interpretation: “As soon as a man is dead, he is free from the obligation of the commands.”[82] So he writes, “I have been crucified with Christ” (Gal 2:20; cf. Rom 7:1–7). This notion, which goes back to Ps 88:5 and was expounded thus by R. Simon ben Gamaliel[83] (who, unless a later Tannaite was meant, was known to Paul as the son of his personal teacher),[84] was almost certainly current in Paul’s day.

The inference that the law would cease was already drawn by the Amora of the fourth generation, R. Joseph bar Hiyya. In Nidda 61b we read: “the commandments will be abolished in the Hereafter,” a statement that is likely older than its communicator. The Pauline reference is thus early represented in the traditions of rabbinic Judaism. It is notable that Philo[85] and certain apocalyptic writings also imply the cessation of the law in the Messianic era.[86]

7. Gal 4:21–36. A further rabbinical argument identifies his opponents, who thought so highly of Jerusalem, with the children of Hagar, who though children according to the flesh were destined never to receive the true adoption. They were condemned to bondage by the law given on Mt. Sinai, the home of the Ishmaelites, which they so fondly supposed to be the scene of the final revelation of God. Their city was only the earthly Jerusalem. Their view was limited to a bondage of the world. But the children of the Spirit who were promised adoption as sons, were to be gathered from the wilderness, to be children not of the earthly Jerusalem, but of the Jerusalem from above, which was to be revealed from heaven (Gal 4:21–31).[87]

Paul discovers in the name Hagar an unpredisclosed reference: “Now Hagar is Mt. Sinai in Arabia: she corresponds to the present Jerusalem.” The name Hagar accorded with the Arabic name of Sinai, both denoting “a stone.” By this means he suggests that “Hagar in Arabia” signifies “Mt. Sinai.” The name Hagar is etymologically important for Philo as well.[88] Such wordplays were favored by many of the rabbinic masters. According to R. Jose bar Chanina, Noah received his name on account of the “resting” of the Ark (Gen 8:4; compare nôah and wattanah). Barrett cites other examples of exegesis kemin homer, where a significant word is treated with comparable ingenuity: In Sipre Numbers 8, R. Gamaliel answers the question why the offering in respect of the suspected adulteress must be of barley meal. He replies: “As her acts have been bestial, so her offering consists of the food of beasts.” Mikilta 83b has R. Johanan b. Zakkai interpret Exod 21:6 to answer why the ear rather than any other member should be pierced as follows: The ear, which has heard: “Thou shalt not steal,” and went and stole, that is to be pierced rather than all the man’s members. In each instance there is a reinterpretation of a significant word and the use of an explanatory text. This same scenario appears also in Paul’s Sinai-Jerusalem allegory.[89]

We cannot concur with Lipsius and Grossman, who have tried to see cases of cabbalistic gematria in v 25, however. In their thinking sustoichei (“to correspond to”) is supposed to have the same meaning as isopsēphei (“to have the same numerical value”), and nun Ierousalēm is supposed to correspond to Hagar Sina. Lietzmann is right to oppose this approach, not because Paul was not capable of it, but because it does not appear to have been his intention.[90]

Conclusion

In this essay we have argued that: (1) the opponents of Paul at Galatia were Jewish-Christian agitators who held to the Torah and its customs (circumcision, feasts and fasts, etc.); (2) the opponents were Pharisaic in origin and orientation, and were consistent with those of Acts 15 who opposed the Pauline gospel at Jerusalem; (3) the opponents were also consistent with the later Christian heresy known as Ebionitism, and were probably related to that sect in some way; (4) the opponents circulated specifically tannaitic propaganda about Paul in the province, i.e. tanna-oriented dependency and iterative incompetence; they described him as having been dependent upon Jerusalemite “pillar” apostles for his gospel and charged he was unfaithful to his instructors in that he had altered the message delivered to him: and (5) throughout Paul’s response he purposely utilized rabbinical exegetical methods, interpretive techniques, and arguments based upon tannaitic conceptions—with the express intention of impressing his readership with his own competence and authority.

Notes
  1. Hugo Odeberg, Pharisaism and Christianity (St. Louis: Concordia, 1964) 6–7. The level of discussion of the antithesis between Pauline Christianity and Judaism has proceeded beyond the “Billerbeck mentality,” and rightly so. But we seriously doubt that E. P. Sanders has a proper handle on the dichotomy between these two “patterns of religion” when he simplistically adjudges: “In short, this is what Paul finds wrong in Judaism: it is not Christianity” (p. 552). Is he not guilty of what he himself calls “reduced essences,” i.e. “supposing that a religion can be accurately summarized in a phrase or line” (p. 13)? We also doubt whether the methodological parameters which he draws up for comparison of the two are altogether workable, being that scholars (Sanders included) must write from some perspective; speaking of the comparison of individual motifs (which we do some of in this paper), he says, “It is inadequate for the comparison of religions…. it is usually the motifs of one of the religions which are compared with elements in the second religion in order to identify their origin. The two religions are not treated in the same way. The history of the comparison of Paul and Judaism shows this clearly. One starts with Pauline motifs and looks for their origins in Judaism, but the various elements of Judaism are not taken up for their own sake. It follows that there is no true comparison of the two religions” (p. 13). It is ironic that he has himself been subjected to a stinging review by Jacob Neusner (HR 18 [1978] 177–91) for reading the Jewish documents not in terms of their own guiding interests, but through categories imported from Paul and from what Neusner calls “Pauline-Lutheran” theology. Cf. E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977); and “Patterns of Religion in Paul and Rabbinic Judaism: A Holistic Method of Comparison,” HTR 66 (1973) 455–78.
  2. J. Knox, “Galatians, Letter to the,” IDB 2.339.
  3. Donald Guthrie, New Testament Introduction (3rd ed.; Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity, 1970) 466; and G. Howard, Paul: Crisis in Galatia (SNTSMS 35; Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1979) 1–19. Howard offers an excellent summary of recent discussion of this issue.
  4. Wilhelm Lütgert, Gesetz und Geist. Eine Untersuchung sur Vorgeschichte des Galaterbriefes (Gütersloh: Druck und Verlag von Bertelsmann, 1919).
  5. J. H. Ropes, The Singular Problem of the Epistle to the Galatians (HTS 14; Cambridge: Harvard University, 1929).
  6. G. Duncan, Galatians (MNTC; London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1934) xxxiiiff.
  7. J. M. Creed, review of J. H. Ropes’ The Singular Problem of the Epistle to the Galatians, in JTS 31 (1930) 421–24.
  8. J. Munck, “The Judaizing Gentile Christians: Studies in Galatians” and “The True and the False Apostle: Studies in 2 Corinthians,” Paul and the Salvation of Mankind (Richmond: John Knox, 1959) 87–134, 168–95.
  9. F. C. Crownfield, “The Singular Problem of the Dual Galatians,” JBL ,64 (1945) 491–500.
  10. W. Schmithals, “Die Häretiker in Galatien,” ZNW 47 (1956) 25–67. While the rejection of the thesis of Schmithals offered by J. W. Drane includes historical reconstructions which are exceedingly questionable, nevertheless his conclusions are correct: “the Judaizing hypothesis which has been held by interpreters from the earliest times is still more likely to be the correct one” (Paul: Libertine or Legalist? [London: SPCK, 1975] 94); and, “Though he [Schmithals] regards these as the basis of Paul’s thought, most of the parallels which he adduces are in fact better understood as the outcome of Pauline thinking in certain gnostic contexts” (p. 114). We are not as set upon blaming Paul for gnostic misunderstanding of his writings as is Drane, however.
  11. W. G. Kümmel, Introduction to the New Testament (14th ed; New York: Abingdon, 1966) 195; and R. H. Fuller, A Critical Introduction to the New Testament (SBT 55; London: Duckworth, 1966) 29. The thoughts of B. H. Brinsmead on the programmatic demand for apokalupseis in the argument of the Galatian opponents are especially enlightening. He is right to reject connection with the bat qôl of the later rabbis as well as gnostic visions. Paul clearly intends to connect his apostleship with the prophetic tradition. See B. H. Brinsmead, Galatians-Dialogical Response to Opponents (SBLDS 65; Missoula: Scholars Press, 1982) 93–96.
  12. R. M. Wilson, The Gnostic Problem (London: A. R. Mowbray, 1958); and Gnosis and the New Testament (Oxford: Blackwell, 1968).
  13. Kümmel, Introduction 195.
  14. Ibid. Contra Howard (Crisis in Galatia, 2) who says, “the opponents were Jewish Christian Judaizers supported by the apostles at Jerusalem.”
  15. Robert Jewett, “The Agitators and the Galatian Congregation,” NTS 17 (1971) 204.
  16. Klaus Wegenast, Das Verständnis der Tradition bei Paulus und in den Deuteropaulinen (WMANT 8; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1962) 36–40.
  17. M. R. James, The Apocryphal New Testament (2nd ed.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1975) 8–10.
  18. Glen W. Barker, William L. Lane, and J. Ramsey Michaels, The New Testament Speaks (New York: Harper & Row, 1969) 186.
  19. B. Bat. 60b; Midr. on Ps 137:5.
  20. The Greek translator Symmachus, according to Eusebius and Jerome, was an Ebionite. The researches of H. J. Schoeps (“Aus frühchristlicher Zeit,” Religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen [1950] 82–119) have uncovered traces of Ebionite theological terms, Greek education, and dependence on rabbinic exegesis in Symmachus. The importance of this latter connection will be clearer later on in this paper.
  21. Barker, Lane, and Michaels, NT Speaks, 186.
  22. Pesah. 8.8.
  23. b. Yebam. 46b.
  24. Ruth 2:12. Cf. Israel Abrahams, Studies in Pharisaism and the Gospels: First Series (Library of Biblical Studies; New York: KTAV, 1967) 36–37.
  25. Lev Rab. 2.9.
  26. Yebam. 47a–47b. The commands (excluded in our quotation) selected as illustrations are mainly agricultural and precede even the Sabbath; from this emphasis C. G. Montefiore and H. Lowe are inclined to assign the material an early date. Cf. A Rabbinic Anthology (New York: Shocken, 1974) 578–79. This and the previous quotation are from the Anthology.
  27. Cf. Olof Linton, “The Third Aspect: A Neglected Point of View,” ST 3 (1949) 92; and Jewett, “The Agitators,” 208.
  28. Leo Baeck, “The Pharisees,” The Pharisees and Other Essays (New York: Shocken, 1947) 21–22.
  29. Sanh. 90b; as quoted in Leo Baeck, “Tradition,” idem., 54–55.
  30. m. ‘Ed. 1.3; b. Sabb. 15a. Quoted in Birger Gerhardsson, Memory and Manuscript (ASNU 22; Uppsala: Almquist & Wiksells, 1961) 131–33.
  31. Ibid.
  32. ‘Abot 3.9. Translation is that of J. H. Hertz, Sayings of the Fathers (Philosophica Judaica; London: East and West Library, 1952) 44. Discussed by Gerhardsson, ibid., 168.
  33. ‘Abot 6.6 (Hertz, Sayings, 88-89); cf. also b. Nid. 19b; b. Meg. 15a; and b. Hul. 104b.
  34. R. T. Stamm, “The Epistle to the Galatians,” IB 10.431.
  35. ‘Abot 1.1ff.
  36. Stamm, “Galatians,” 431–32.
  37. W. D. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980) 248.
  38. Rudolf Otto, The Kingdom of God and the Son of Man (Boston: Star King, 1957) 276.
  39. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, 248-49: “Although we incline to this view, however, it must be admitted that it is not wholly satisfactory because the term qibbel does imply the direct reception of specific words. It is only by blurring the obvious sense of paralambanō that we can make it here refer to the indirect reception of tradition.”
  40. Hans Lietzmann, An die Korinther (HNT 9; 3rd ed.; Tübingen: Mohr, 1969) 57.
  41. Cf. m. Git. 3.6. [cf. now Robert W. Herron, Jr., “The Origin of the New Testament Apostolate,” WTJ 45 (1983) 101–3 1.—Ed.]
  42. Cf. the Passover Haggada at Exod 12:12.
  43. Str-B 3.3-4.
  44. Gerhardsson, Memory and Manuscript, 263-65.
  45. Compare the parallel idea in the Palestinian Talmud: “The prophet and the scribe are messengers of God; the prophet needs the seal of God, the sign and the miracle, the scribe does not need it, for he proves himself by the Torah” (y. Ber. on Deut 17:11, 3b).
  46. H. Schlier, Der Brief an die Galater (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1949) 25 n. 3.
  47. J. W. Doeve, “Paulus der Pharisäer und Galater 1:13–15, ” NovT 6 (1963) 176.
  48. Aeschylus, Agamemnon 897f; Euripides, Iphigeneia in Tauris 57; and Livy 38.51.
  49. R. Annand, “Note on the Three ‘Pillars,’“ Exp Tim 67 (1956) 168.
  50. C. K. Barrett, “Paul and the ‘Pillar Apostles,’“ Studia Paulina in Honorem Johannis de Zwaan (Haarlem: Bohn, 1953) 1–5.
  51. Ber. 28b; and ‘Abot R. Nat. 25.
  52. ‘Abot 1.2.
  53. ‘Abod. Zar. 10b.
  54. Exod Rab. 2.13; cf. also Gen 22:11; Exod 3:4; Isa 51:1. Aus makes reference to Exodus 24, where Moses at the foot of Mt. Sinai erected twelve “pillars” (massebah) according to the twelve tribes (v 4). He also sees the new building of the Messianic age with its “new pillars” (1 Enoch 90:28–29) as an important element of Jewish thinking even before the ministry of Jesus. Rev 21:14 also ties in, with its “names of the twelve apostles of the lamb” inscribed upon the foundations of the wall of the city. The Twelve thus function as its foundations, a term parallel and at times interchangeable with “pillars” (as in Gen Rab. Wayislah 75.11). Cf. Roger D. Aus, “Three Pillars and Three Patriarchs: A Proposal Concerning Gal 2:9, ” ZNW 70 (1979) 252–53.
  55. Barrett, “Paul and the ‘Pillar’ Apostles,” 5.
  56. Cf. Midr. Pss 1:15; Cant Rab. 7; 8:1; Midr. Pss 34:1; b. Ber. 16b; and ‘Abot R. Nat. 37.
  57. Aus, “Three Pillars,” 254–57.
  58. Gal 2:2, 6a, 6c, 9.
  59. D. M. Stanley, “‘Become Imitators of Me’: The Pauline Conception of Apostolic Tradition,” Bib 40 (1959) 875–76.
  60. See note 45.
  61. Gal 2:16 (Ps 143:2); 3:6 (Gen 15:6); and 3:11 (Hab 2:4).
  62. Gal 1:15, 16 (Jer 1:5; Isa 49:1, 5); 3:12 (Lev 18:5); 3:16 (Gen 12:7) 6:16 (Ps 125:5).
  63. Joseph Bonsirven, Exégse rabbinique et exégse paulinienne (Bibliothque de théologie historique; Paris: Beauchesne, 1938) 294ff. The view of H. D. Betz that the Galatian letter is an example of the “apologetic letter genre” does not in any way vitiate our proposals. Paul was quite capable of utilizing both rabbinic methodology and Greek literary forms side by side. Cf. H. D. Betz, Galatians (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979) 14–25; “The Literary Composition and Function of Paul’s Letter to the Galatians,” NTS 21 (1975) 353–79; and “Galatians, Letter to the,” IDBSup 352-53.
  64. Overall comparison of the exegetical methods of Paul and the rabbis reveals numerous resemblances, but also radical differences. They resemble one another in procedural mechanics: homiletical developments, exegetical distributives, philological considerations, expressed arguments or inferences reliant upon a text invoked as justification of the proposition, analysis of historical facts accounting for chronological successions, parabolical exegesis, illustration and confirmation of a thought by a scriptural maxim. In certain of his procedures, Paul adds new color to his rabbinic training. Like the orthodox Jewish savants the apostle does not throw in empty verbiage which is either bizarre or silly. But his typological conception is to be sharply distinguished from that of the synagogue preachers. His Christian faith reveals for him all of the profound significance of the OT, in particular, its figurative meaning. Cf. Bonsirven, ibid., 324.
  65. M. J. Lagrange, Le judaïsme avant Jesus-Christ (Paris: J. Gabalda, 1931) 443.
  66. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, 221.
  67. A. Marmorstein, The Doctrine of Merits in the Old Rabbinical Literature (Jews’ College Publications 7; London: Oxford University, 1920) 175; J. Bonsirven, Le judaïsme palestinian au temps de Jesus-Christ (Bibliothque de théologie historique 3; Paris: Beauchesne, 1935) 48; and Str-B 3.186-187.
  68. Mek. Wayāssa 3; b. Sota 48b; Exod Rab. 25.4; See C. J. G. Montefiore, Rabbinic Literature and Gospel Teachings (Library of Biblical Studies; New York: KTAV, 1970) 201.
  69. Mek. Besallah 7; Lev Rab. 35.7; Yal. on Exod 14:31.
  70. Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, 221.
  71. Sanh. 97a.
  72. See Gen Rab. 44.6; ‘Abot R. Nat. 1.34; and Baeck, “Pharisees,” 72–73. The fullest treatment with the most complete list of texts pertinent to this discussion appears in: W. D. Davies, Torah in the Messianic Age and/or the Age to Come (SBLMS 7; Philadelphia: Society of Biblical Literature, 1952) 50–83.
  73. Num Rab. 15.25; see also Davies, Paul and Rabbinic Judaism, 22 1; and Abrahams, Studies in Pharisaism and the Gospels, 120-28.
  74. C. K. Barrett, “The Allegory of Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar in the Argument of Galatians,” Rechtfertigung Festschrift für Ernst Käsemann (ed. J. Friedrich, W. Pöhlmann, P. Stuhlmacher; Tübingen: Mohr, 1976) 6–7; and A Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans (HNTC; New York: Harper, 1957) 88–89.
  75. H. J. Schoeps, Paul: The Theology of the Apostle in the Light of Jewish Religious History (London: Lutterworth, 1961) 177–78.
  76. Bonsirven, Exégse rabbinique, 298; and E. Earle Ellis, Paul’s Use of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1957) 70–73. Compare the following rabbinic passages: Sabb. 84b on Isa 61:11; B. Bat. 19a; Sanh. 37a; and Gen Rab. 22.9 on Gen 4:10.
  77. Otto Michel, Paulus und seine Bibel (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1972) 94. Compare Philo, On the Special Laws, 145ff.
  78. David Daube, The New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism (Jordan Lectures in Comparative Religion 2; London: Athlone, 1956) 441.
  79. Ibid., 440.
  80. L. Gaston has lately attempted a new interpretation of this difficult text. While admitting the OT (Ps 68:18) and the old translations (LXX of Deut 33:2; Tg. Onq.; and Tg. Ps.-J.) contain references to the presence of angels at the giving of the law, he maintains they were not there to mediate the Torah. Pentateuchal traditions are silent on the matter. Other texts (Acts 7:53; Heb 2:2; Jub. 1:27; 2:1 {Jub 2:1}; Philo, Somn. 1.141f; Josephus, Ant. 15.136) are given new meanings exclusive of direct bearing upon this case. It is his conclusion that Gal 3:19 refers to God’s law for the Gentiles, “ordained or administered by angels, by which he means the seventy angels of the nations” (p. 74). Paul’s argument, however, is against this thesis. It is in every way connected with the Jewish background of the Galatians, or rather, the opponents of Paul among the Galatians with whom the Galatians have become identified. Gaston’s view requires an unnatural reading of pertinent texts to make them conform to the theory. Even Gal 3:19 is read by him in this way: “‘Ordained through angels, in the hand of a mediator,’ or more precisely, ‘in the hand of each of the 70 mediators’“ (p. 74). Cf. L. Gaston, “Angels and Gentiles in Early Judaism and in Paul,” SR 11 (1982) 65–75; L. H. Silberman, “Prophets/Angels: LXX and Qumran Psalm 151 and the Epistle to the Hebrews,” Standing Before God (ed. A. Finkel and L. Frizzel; New York: KTAV, 1981) 92–93; and Betz, Galatians, 169-70. A. Vanhoye offers the quaint theory that the mediator of Gal 3:19 is not Moses but a single angel who mediates for the many angels to Moses, who in turn mediates for Israel: “Un mediateur des anges en Gal 3:19–20, ” Bib 59 (1978) 403–11.
  81. Cf. note 71, ‘Abod. Zar. 9a, and y. Meg. 70d.
  82. Sabb. 30a; 151b; Nid. 61b; Pesiq. R. 51b; y. Kil. 9.3.
  83. Sabb. 151b.
  84. Schoeps, Paul, 39, 168, 171–72.
  85. Vita Adam 1.13; Vita Moses 3.22.
  86. Schoeps, Paul, 172.
  87. W. L. Knox, St. Paul and the Church of Jerusalem (Cambridge: at the University Press, 1925) 221.
  88. For pertinent comment on Paul’s allēgoroumena, see: Richard Longenecker, Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975) 126; Anthony T. Hanson, Studies in Paul’s Technique and Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974) 160–61; and R. J. Kepple, “An Analysis of Antiochene Exegesis of Galatians 4:24–26, ” WTJ 39 (1977) 239–49.
  89. Barrett, “Allegory of Abraham,” 11. Translations are from: H. S. Horovitz and I. A. Rabin, eds., Mekilta D’Rabbi Ismael (Jerusalem, 1960) 253, 257–58. Quoted in Barrett.
  90. Michel, Paulus und seine Bibel, 98; and Hans Lietzmann, Galaterbrief (HNT 10; 3rd ed.; Tübingen: Mohr, 1932) 30.

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