Queries & Comments

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BAR Released Behind Bars

BAR Wins “Obscenity” Case

A classic painting of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden by the famous 16th–17th-century painters Peter Paul Rubens and Jan Brueghel the Elder was declared obscene by California prison authorities. BAR contained a copy of this painting, and the entire issue was accordingly withheld from California prisoners (see Queries & Comments, BAR 42:05).

BAR appealed the decision, and the California ruling was reversed by the California Department of Adult Institutions. The issue of BAR has been released to California prisoners.—Ed.

Inquiring Readers Want To Know…

Why Not Look?

“Where Is the Land of Sheba” by Bar Kribus (BAR 42:05) says that Ethiopians believe that the real Ark of the Covenant resides within the Chapel of the Tablet in Aksum, Ethiopia. Why not look inside and see if the Ark is there?

Bar Kribus responds:

The contents of the Chapel of the Tablet are one of Ethiopia’s best-kept secrets. Only one man is allowed access—a monk who serves as guardian of the Ark. He holds the post for life and is the only one to see inside the chapel. The compound is guarded—and for good reason. Any attempt to break into the chapel would be a violation of the sanctity of the place and an affront to the tradition of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church.

To comprehend why, we must understand the function and symbolic importance of the object within the chapel. This object (which, according to Ethiopian tradition, is the Ark of the Covenant), is known by the Ge‘ez term “Tabota Tsion” or “Tabot of Zion.” The Ge‘ez word “tabot” is parallel to the Hebrew word “teivah” (Ark). The word “Zion” has a complex spiritual meaning in Ethiopian Orthodox theology and is, among other usages, used to refer to the Ark of the Covenant.

The importance, in Ethiopian Orthodox theology, of the presence of the Ark of the Covenant in Aksum cannot be overestimated: It is seen as demonstrating that the Ethiopian people have been chosen by God as the new people of Israel, and it served as a source of legitimacy of the Ethiopian emperors of the Solomonic dynasty (1270–1974). By virtue of its presence in Aksum, the town is considered a “new” Jerusalem, Ethiopia’s holiest city in the eyes of its Christian population.

Needless to say, Ethiopian Orthodox believers do not require proof that the Ark is in Aksum. For them it is a matter of faith. Throughout the years, many non-Ethiopians have been intrigued by the Ethiopian claim of possession of the Ark. A number of popular and scholarly attempts have been made to understand the nature of the object inside the chapel. Opinions vary, and it is probable that the mystery will remain an enigma for many years to come.

Babylonian and Biblical Questions

Two recent BAR pieces puzzle me. The first, “How Bad Was the Babylonian Exile?” by Laurie E. Pearce (BAR 42:05), refers to cuneiform tablets that were inscribed somewhere around the time of the Judean exile (sixth century B.C.E.). Does anyone know why an advanced civilization continued to use clay tablets and cuneiform (both of which seem clumsy ways of recording information) when their rivals and those whom they conquered had already switched to alphabets and papyrus?

My second question regards Biblical Views: “Reading the Bible Through Ancient Eyes” by Richard L. Rohrbaugh (BAR 42:05). Given Dr. Rohrbaugh’s argument that Jesus’ parable of the slaves and talents has been taken out of its historical and cultural context, what does 010he think Jesus was saying to the people who heard him?

Laurie E. Pearce responds:

From its first use in the late fourth millennium B.C.E., cuneiform was employed as a writing system for more than three millennia in the ancient Near East; the latest cuneiform text can be dated to 79 C.E. Although the characteristic wedge-shaped signs could be incised by professional carvers into stone monuments, cuneiform inscriptions were most frequently produced by scribes who used a stylus to impress the wedge-shaped logographic and syllabic signs, representing words and sounds, respectively, into clay tablets. The riverine environment of Mesopotamia ensured the availability of clay as an inexpensive medium. Papyrus was not native to the banks of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, and in the more humid climate of Mesopotamia, the writing material it produced could not have endured as it did in arid Egypt.

From at least the eighth century B.C.E. on, evidence for the use in Mesopotamia of alphabetic scripts exists both on clay and pliable media. In the Assyrian Empire, short notices inked in Aramaic script appeared together with cuneiform inscriptions on clay tags used for administrative purposes. Painted decorations and bas reliefs at numerous Assyrian palaces illustrate cuneiform scribes and alphabetic scribes working alongside each other; each holds the medium and tools for his respective task.

The continuing use of Babylonian cuneiform under Persian and Hellenistic rule may be understood both as a politically astute strategy and as a means of perpetuating a social identity. The early Persian kings used cuneiform as the language and script of administration in the satrap of Babylon both because there existed no written form of the Old Persian language, and because they recognized that maintaining linguistic and epigraphic continuity in the bread basket of the Achaemenid Empire would contribute support for and stability in the new regime.

Although cuneiform use declined dramatically by the period of Seleucid rule, from 331 to 64 B.C.E., members of traditional urban elite families of Babylon and Uruk continued to produce cuneiform literary and scientific texts and to record the sales of land and prebendary income [Look it up—Ed.] as a means of maintaining their elite social status.

Richard L. Rohrbaugh responds:

Scholars have long recognized that all language, including the language in stories such as the parables, is dependent on context for its meaning. For example, think of the English word “hot.” It means one thing in the desert, another on a basketball court and yet another in a strenuous argument. Add to that the fact that we do not know the specific context of any of the parables of Jesus. Each of them is placed in the context 059of a story line developed by a given Gospel writer. The parable of the great banquet, for example, is a wedding feast in the Gospel of Matthew (Matthew 22:1–14), a dinner at the home of a Pharisee in Luke (Luke 7:36–50) and is cited by Thomas with no context at all.

This means it is often easier to say what a given parable meant to a Gospel writer than what it meant to Jesus. In the case of the parable of the talents, Matthew (Matthew 25:14–30) and Luke (Luke 19:11–27) see it differently. In Matthew, Jesus is on the Mount of Olives and is asked by the disciples what the signs of the end of the age will be. The parable is thus in a series of eschatological responses to the disciples’ question. In Luke, however, Jesus is in Jericho. After the story of Zacchaeus, a generous rich man, Luke says those listening think the kingdom of God must be coming immediately. He disabuses them of that wishful thinking with Jesus’ story of the greedy master in the parable.

But we do not know when, where and in what circumstance Jesus told the story. So we have only one responsible strategy open to us if the meaning of the story in the lifetime of Jesus is our primary interest. We have to set it in the general social/cultural context of the first-century Mediterranean world. That is the only option available. While that does not offer a specific context or a specific occasion that would definitively clarify the original intent, it does limit us to meanings that would be plausible in that particular world. That is what I tried to do in the article on this parable.

After recreating as much of the social/cultural context as our evidence allows, and then considering ancient literary, historical or archaeological comparanda, the story has to make sense to hearers in that particular world. Obviously there are multiple—but limited—plausible options.

Two seem especially compelling in the world of Jesus. One is viewing this story as a warning to or condemnation of those who might be tempted to aggrandize themselves at the expense of their neighbors by cooperating in such schemes. The other is that holding such behavior up to public view is a way of shaming greedy masters who rob the poor. Both are in concert with much that we know about the teaching of Jesus, and either would gain a ready hearing in the village world of first-century Galilee.

Potpourri

Troublesome Homonyms

You seem to have an on-going problem with homonyms. “From Eden to Ednah: Lilith in the Garden” by Dan Ben-Amos (BAR 42:03) contained confusion between “penal” and “penile.” And in “‘Lost Gospels’—Lost No More” by Tony Burke (BAR 42:05), it was “horde” and “hoard.” A “horde” is a large group—as, for instance, a group of tourists. A “hoard” is a carefully guarded collection, for example, of manuscripts.

Requesting Clarification Re: Gospel Letter

So, how many letters have you received about the illustration in “‘Lost Gospels’—Lost No More” by Tony Burke (BAR 42:05, p. 47) labeling the photographed page as from the Gospel of Thomas? Even somebody who doesn’t read Greek at all can probably make out the large text in the center of the page: KATA IΩANNHN, that is, ACCORDING TO JOHN.

Tony Burke responds:

Titles in ancient manuscripts usually occur at the end of the text (what’s called the “explicit” rather than the beginning, which is called the “incipit”). The image in question is the ending of the Apocryphon of John (Nag Hammadi Codex 2, pp. 1–32), with the title written in Coptic, and then the beginning of the Gospel of Thomas (Nag Hammadi Codex 2, pp. 32–51). One can see the name of Thomas in lines 2–3 (Didymos Judas Thomas) as part of the opening saying in the text: “These are the secret sayings which the living Jesus spoke and which Didymos Judas Thomas wrote down.”

Verdict: No mistake.—Ed.

BAR Released Behind Bars