
Robert said
I’m in no way arguing that Pilate was not involved. For me, I just don’t assume there would be much of a dichotomy between the ordinary local Roman authority in Jerusalem, the sunedrion, and their visiting governor from Caesarea.
Understood – and further, I didn’t think you were advocating an anti-Pilate interpretation. You’re positing (arguing for?) that the admixture of the judicial proceedings consists of some part sunedrion, some part-Pilate, and that the proportion of sunedrion is higher in your recipe than typically assumed (by me and others).
Distilled, I think my understanding here hinges on one key background premise, and thus this question: Did or did not Rome have a monopoly on crucifixion (specifically, just death by cross, not the broader capital punishment issue) in Judea in 1st century CE, especially at this time of Pilate’s governorship? If yes, the branches of possibility go one direction, and if no, then another direction.
Robert said
I don’t take Jn 18,31 19,6 as primary evidence for anything other than the author’s later understanding. I’m basing most of my understanding of how the sunedria operated primarily on how this was understood by Josephus, a priest of Jerusalem from around the same time. He describes the sunedria as a Roman institution (with a Greek name), imposed on the locals by Rome as a replacement for or at times at least a curb upon any sense of independent rule by an also Roman-appointed king. With respect to the specific sunedrion in Jerusalem, I’m also attending to the unusually long term of co-rule by Caiaphas, Pilate’s sole high priest at this time, as part of the likewise longest tenure of the pro-Roman high priestly dynasty of the family of his father-in-law, Annas.
{And}
The Johannine account presents a contradiction. My primary reason for citing Jn 19,6 is to soften the claim typically made by those who only cite the prophecy fulfillment of Jn 18,31-32 as supposed proof of one side of the contradiction.
Got it – then we’re on the same page with respect to the Johannine account and what it is evidence for: the author’s later understanding. Depending on the answer to the narrow crucifixion monopoly question above, one might be able to determine whether it is, at the level of historical fact, a misunderstanding.
Robert said
Yes, and in the case of Mark’s account, the one admitting to the claim, had also predicted the total destruction of the temple and claimed that he would be seated at the right hand of God, coming with the clouds of heaven, clearly understood as a blasphemous claim as Mark presents it. But I do not think this would have been the charge considered or made by the historical sunedrion in Jerusalem. They would have been concerned with any charge or claim of messianic, ie, royal authority, which would challenge their very raison d’être as the Roman appointed local aristocratic replacement for royal authority. A messianic claim would first and foremost be a challenge to their authority, and only indirectly and more remotely to that of Rome. Pilate might have been more inclined to laugh cynically at this charge against Jesus, ‘though he would certainly agree that any such claim should be suppressed in no uncertain terms.
I’m with you on the distinction between the Markan account and what likely actually occurred historically. And I’m with you on the likely historical facts of the matter. The only potential point of departure would be with the interpretation of the Markan account – I’ll confess to living on Bart island with respect to ‘Son of Man’ issues. That’s not got much bearing presently for our current topic, but thought I’d lay out the prior in case it’s useful at some point in the conversation.

And I meant to say thanks for the Dead Sea Scrolls information about table fellowship – both interesting and elucidating. My reading list continues to compile higher and higher… Incidentally, I went online last night to look for some quick synopsis of the eschatological banquet, and lo and behold a great summary piece was done by B. Pitre (who you’d referenced before around the treatment of liturgy in taboo).

Robert said
Bart’s view of the historical Jesus’ use of the ‘Son of Man’ terminology for a heavenly figure other than himself does not extend to the interpretation of Mark’s gospel. He agrees that Mark portrays Jesus as using the ‘Son of Man’ terminology to refer to himself, including in Mk 14,62.
Yep – I straight up muddled that distinction. I even “knew” it, and botched it anyway. Thank you for the gentile course correction. I’m glad I laid out the (incorrect) prior, so you could reinforce the distinction in my head. Cheers!
Relatedly, but hopefully without me taking us too far down this path, where do you stand on the “I am.” vs. “I am?” topic in Mark 14:62? I surmise you are in the declarative camp (or ambiguous), but curious.

Robert said
My recipe is only more parts Jerusalem sunedrion than those who think the proper recipe is all parts Pilate and no parts sunedrion. That is a politically correct position but not very likely in my opinion.
Well clarified, thank you.
Robert said
Since I’m sure Pilate and Roman soldiers were involved in Jesus’ crucifixion, I don’t think the monopoly question really matters.
I think I understand the position for why the monopoly question is ultimately not germane – Pilate was involved, as was the sunedrion. It’s both not just one, and therefore any position that tries to pin ultimate responsibility on solely one party is in error. Is that a fair encapsulation?
The question seems germane only insofar as it rules out one party in the final step in the execution chain – who had the authority to kill via cross, rather than say (tacitly or overtly) stoning. If it was a monopoly power of Rome, any statement that the sunedrion had the ability to effect the final step is incorrect, even though it is possible/plausible it had a strong hand in orchestrating events to that specific denouement. Perhaps I’m not seeing it correctly, though. I did muddle that Markan treatment of ‘Son of Man’ issue…
Robert said
I also can’t answer the monopoly question.
A commendation for the candor. Intellectual honesty is in short supply in our world these days, and this is a small ray of sunlight breaking from the clouds.
Robert said
At some point, additional, less public forms of capital punishment began to be practiced, as can be seen in the Talmud, but when exactly this started is what is very difficult to date.
As for an earlier period, are you already aware of Josephus’ account in Antiquities 13,14, 2 about Alexander Jannaeus, the Judean Hasmonean king who had a large number of Pharisees crucified in 88 BCE?
As he was feasting with his concubines, in the sight of all the city, he ordered about eight hundred of them to be crucified; and while they were living, he ordered the throats of their children and wives to be cut before their eyes.
I was aware of the general outline of the fact, but not the details. Appreciate the illustration of a homegrown example during a time that abuts the beginning of Roman domination of Judea.

Robert said
I think Mark may have possibly intended it as evocative of Jesus’ divine identity, or at least ‘John’ read it that way and ran with it.
It truly is a pleasure to watch you play with the subtlety of the harmonics, my friend, but I’m unfortunately stuck asking a pedestrian question down at the fundamental tone level. To make sure I understand: You think the technically ambiguous language of the Greek at that point in Mark is meant to be read as “I am.” – in the affirmative, responsive to the “Are you the messiah?” question.

Robert said
The ἐγώ εἰμι (I am) reading is definitely an affirmative response regardless of whether or or not it might also evoke divine identity as well. Joel Marcus is very much in the minority when he prefers the σὺ εἶπας (you have said so) reading here, which is what both Matthew and Luke have here (a very strong argument) and similar to Jesus’ response to Pilate in all three synoptics, σὺ λέγεις (you are saying so). That is indeed ambiguous, ‘though Marcus understands it in the affirmative sense here.
Excellent – thank you for this edifying clarity. Superb.
I am not familiar with Marcus’s argument here, but I have heard it argued (literally, on audiobook), I think it was by Borg & Crossan in The Last Week, that (gist):
– ἐγώ εἰμι can mean, devoid of context, both the declarative (I am.) or the interrogative (Am I?, or I am?);
– both Matthew and Luke (I’m intentionally trying avoid getting bogged down in debating N-source theories) have Mark as a direct/indirect source;
– Mt & Lk both changed Mark’s ἐγώ εἰμι to something intentionally more ambiguous (you know exactly what they each say in Greek; I don’t, nor do I want to butcher the Greek by copying and pasting terms I can’t read);
– Mt & Lk thus both read ἐγώ εἰμι, and believed the best interpretation of it was as a noncommittal interrogative;
– therefore, since two early experts read it this way, it may well be that Mark’s intention was the noncommittal interrogative.
I’m paraphrasing and glossing over nuances in an effort to get the gist across more quickly.
Two questions:
– I take your description of Marcus’s position to be something else (more like there’s a textual variant debate vs. an interpretation of an ἐγώ εἰμι debate)? I would like to better understand it, and your opinion on it.
– Curious your reaction to the above?

Robert said
Not necessarily in error, but less likely in my opinion.
Got it, and understood. FWIW, loosening the precision just a bit, I think we are saying something very similar (the likelihood reduction is a directional step towards p=0, which would be synonymous with certainty of error in this context; “lower likelihood” is roughly coextensive with “likelier in error” in our conversation here). We’re basically talking about matters of degree.
Robert said
That certainly makes sense from a purely logical point of view. From an historical perspective, the primary question is whether or not we have sufficient evidence to recommend a logically deductive argument. I’m not aware of such evidence, but I am not an expert in this area. The Romans certainly loved crucifixion, but they didn’t invent it, and they had not yet patented it and enforced a monopoly on it during an earlier period. Whether or not they effectively exercised a monopoly in Palestine in the first century Palestine, I don’t know. For our question, it is reasonable enough to surmise that Caiaphas and the Jerusalem sunedrion probably would not have flaunted such a public display of authority while Pilate was around without his consent during a potentially controversial feast celebrating Israelite liberation from foreign oppression.
Nice tack! I really, really like that last clever move – for its elegance, but no less because I think it lands us at the same endpoint.

Speaking of getting carried away, a half bottle of Rioja in, I just now bought the Kindle book just to have the text (and not my gist memory of it on audiobook). Here’s a rather compact quote that spans the first 3 of my synopsis points:
“The response of Jesus is commonly translated “I am” (14: 61–62), but in Greek, the language in which Mark writes, the phrase is ambiguous. Greek does not reverse word order to indicate a question rather than a statement. Thus Jesus’s response, ego eimi, can mean either “I am” or “Am I?” As Matthew and Luke revise this scene from Mark, they treat Jesus’s response as other than a straightforward affirmation. Matthew changes it to “You have said so,” and Luke to “You say that I am” (Matt. 26: 64; Luke 22: 70), suggesting that there may be a basis for translating the phrase as a question.”
— The Last Week: What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus’s Final Days in Jerusalem by Marcus J. Borg, John Dominic Crossan
** you do not have permission to see this link **
ETA: I’m a HUGE Islay fan, how have I never had Kilchoman? That is a much bigger mystery than all this ego eimi business.

Robert said
I knew of Kilchoman, but I don’t think I ever actually tried it until the last time I visited Rome on business several years ago. It is not easy to find in the States, but it can be found. Sometimes it is not so very expensive, but I happened to see it the other day at a local liquor store for $100/750 mL, a little steep, but it had been a while so I splurged.
Man, a NT blog thread with Islays and textual debates – hard to go wrong…
Signing off. And cheers!
NB – And, I promise to get back to LS timeline. Trying to overcome my WiFi-induced PTSD after having lost that prior lengthy entry last night on the flight back…

Robert saidHere’s the way Lüdemann dates the events and documents in question:30 CE Crucifixion of Jesus [I do not consider this certain]32-33 Calling/conversion of Paul [I think this could be later]34 Paul’s first visit to Jerusalem41 1 Thessalonians41-42 Paul’s first visit to Corinth48 Incident at Antioch48 Paul’s 2nd visit to Jerusalem & conference with the ‘Pillars’ (either before or after the Incident at Antioch)51 1 Corinthians51-52 (or else 59-60) Philemon & Philippians [I like the later date for Philippians, perhaps even later]52 Galatians53-54 Romans [I think these last three letters could be later, especially Philippians]

Robert saidAs to the counting of years, μετὰ ἔτη τρία could mean as little as the end of one calendar year, a full intervening calendar year, and the beginning of a third calendar year, so not necessarily three full years, but at least parts of three years.
Robert said
Lüdemann’s early dating of Paul’s first visit to Corinth is predicated on his early dating of the expulsion of most likely some Jews, perhaps especially the messianic Jewish trouble makers, which would correspond to when Paul met Priscilla and Aquila in Corinth. His reasoning for this dating is presented in some detail, perhaps more than desired, in your new book on 1 Thessalonians. Congratulations for your discerning purchase!
Robert said
I’m sure most exegetes, translators, and readers do indeed understand Gal 2,11 as an additional event following upon what Paul has already narrated. Certainly the preceding section is organized strictly chronologically. Yet it is also possible that Paul has organized the placement of this conflict story from a more strategic rhetorical perspective. After first recounting his good relationship with the pillars of the Jerusalem church, and their recognition of his own proper authority or primary responsibility for the gospel to the uncircumcised, he will now explicate his ‘correct’ position in defense of the the gentile converts and in opposition to the incorrect one-time position of Cephas, who was admittedly not himself responsible for the gospel to the uncircumcised.Moreover, it is just such a conflict that could have been the impetus for Paul’s second trip to Jerusalem, about which he has previously only said that he went, not because he was summoned, but because of an inspiration of some kind. Perhaps this earlier incident was exactly his inspiration. I don’t think it is frequently mentioned, but for me it seems significant that the real problem being addressed in Antioch and ultimately elsewhere was not so much a problem for the lowly members of the gentile or even the enthusiastic mixed communities, but rather it was most acutely a problem for how the Jewish leaders of the movement, how were they supposed to relate as authority figures to the various gentile or mixed communities. Prior to the coming of the men from James, it does not seem as if this were a problem for the community in Antioch. That I think is significant. As is the solution to the problem. The Jewish pillars will be responsible for the gospel to the circumcised. Paul will be responsible for the gospel to the uncircumcised. Isn’t that convenient for the Jewish pillars (feel free to insert a ‘church lady’ intonation here). They do not need to deal directly with the gentile rabble. Do you see how the incident at Antioch might have preceded the convenient solution of the authorities recounted earlier? So far, this is my sociological way of analyzing the issue. In some ways it relates to Lüdemann’s views, but it is not primarily a recitation of his arguments. I am perhaps even more open to the potential of his relative dating than he himself would insist upon. In the end, he does not insist upon his own view (and neither do I), which is why he is content to say that the Antioch incident could either have preceded or followed upon the second visit to Jerusalem. I think his reconstruction of the relative chronology is at least plausible and attractive for additional reasons.
One quick question here: in your last sentence, does “additional reasons” mean the reasons you had cited (as additional to Lüdemann’s), or do you mean that you have more reasons than these (additional to what you’ve written)?
NB – This is a blast, thanks.
BDEhrman
FreedomBen
evgendob
Robert
1 Guest(s)
