Article

1. Date of CT (History)(edited)
2. In his edition, Bezold has suggested the sixth century as the time of the work’s composition, although without bringing any detailed argumentation to substantiate this claim (See BEZOLD 1883-1888, v. 1, p. x). His teacher, Theodor Nöldeke, in a review of Bezold’s edition accepts the latter’s opinion (See NÖLDEKE 1888). This date has been supported also by Ernst Wallis Budge, who in the preface to his English translation of CT notices that “it is now generally believed that the form in which we now have it is not older than the VIth century” (BUDGE 1927, p. xi). The authors of the two most influential handbooks of Syriac literature, Rubens Duval and Anton Baumstark, also date CT by the sixth century (See DUVAL 1907, p. 81; BAUMSTARK 1922, p. 95).

One of the first attempts to argue for an earlier date of the composition for CT was made by Jacob Bamberger, who related it to the fourth century on the basis of its supposed indebtedness to the Jewish Adam-literature and origins in the “Ephrem’s school”.7 Later on, Albrecht Götze, the first scholar who undertook a thorough examination of CT, has suggested that an early version of this work, labeled by him the Urschatzhöhle, was composed around the middle of the fourth century in JewishChristian circles, while later on, during the sixth century, it has been reworked by an East-Syrian writer.8 Götze’s main arguments for the fourth-century date of the Urschatzhöhle are the following: (a) closeness of the ideology of CT to Gnostics and Ebionites; (b) dependence of CT’s chronology on that of Julius Africanus; (c) influence of Aphrahat on CT; (d) Ephrem’s ignorance of this work. This theory enjoyed considerable popularity. Thus, for example, Albert-Marie Denis in his overview of the Jewish apocryphal literature claims that the core of CT existed in the fourth century as a polemical anti-Jewish work produced by Jewish-Christians.9 The hypothesis of Götze has been adopted and further developed by Su-Min Ri, who in a number of publications proposed that the core of CT was composed in the third century. The theory of Ri has been recently put to a scrutiny by Clemens Leonhard, who exposed the weakness of his arguments in favor of the early dating of CT.

Date of CT (Terminus ante quem)

The literary source that provides us with the most secure terminus ante quem for CT is another pseudepigraphic composition, the Apocalypse of Pseudo-Methodius. This apocalyptic work was written in Syriac soon after the Arab conquest of Northern Mesopotamia, around the year 690 or 691, somewhere in the vicinity of Sinǧār, the region about 100 kilometers southeast of Nisibis (see REININK 1993; see BROCK 1982a, pp. 18-19; REININK 1993, v. 2, pp. v-xxix). There are several instances when the Apocalypse exhibits closeness to or acquaintance with CT. For instance, this work shares with CT the overall chronological scheme of septimana mundi (See GÖTZE 1923-1924, #2, pp. 52-53; REININK 1993, v. 2, pp. Vi-vii, see LEONHARD 2001, pp. 285-287). Another example of this kind appears in the section of dealing with the abdication of the eschatological Last Emperor on Golgotha (Apoc. IX.8-X.2), where the author interprets the “middle” (ܐÿî÷â) of 2 Thessalonians 2:7 in light of the notion of the “middle of the earth” ( ̇ ܐîܕܐܪ ܗÿî÷â), which is identified as Golgotha and Jerusalem, found in CT XLIX.2-3 (REININK 1992, pp. 176-177). However, the most striking instance of CT’s influence upon the Apocalypse is the story of Yonṭon, the fourth son of Noah born after the flood, who is portrayed as the inventor of astronomy and teacher of Nimrod. This peculiar tradition that appears for the first time in CT (XXVII.6-20) is also used by the author of the Apocalypse (III.2-8) (see GERO 1980; TOEPEL 2006b). These examples of the Apocalypse’s author being acquainted with CT give us the year 690 as a terminus ante quem for the latter.

1. There is another source that supports the evidence of the Apocalypse of PseudoMethodius and allows us to push the date of CT’s composition even further back, the anonymous Syriac cosmological treatise ascribed to Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite. This work, preserved in a single Syriac manuscript British Librray Add. 7192, ff. 57c-65b, has been published for the first time by Marc-Antoine Kugener (KUGENER 1907). Josiah Forshall and Friedrich Rosen, who first described the manuscript, dated it to the tenth century (FORSHALL & ROSEN 1838, #51, pp. 83-84). Later on, however, this opinion has been challenged by such an authority on Syriac paleography as William Wright, who dated it to the seventh or eighth century (WRIGHT 1870-1872, v. 3, p. 1206, #51). As for the date of the Pseudo-Dionysian work itself, Kugener relates its composition to the sixth century (See KUGENER 1907, pp. 140-141).
2. There are several notions that are shared by this text and CT. Both works exhibit interest in the science of astronomy and wage a polemic against astrology (KUGENER 1907, pp. 187-193). In the cosmological systems of both, the earth is described as being perforated by the system of underground “channels” (ܬܐăܒïâ) that serve for the passage of waters as well as of hot and cold air, and describe the lower part of the earth that rests on waters as having the structure of “sponge” (ܓܐÍòèܐ). Even more striking is the fact that the unique for Syriac literature notion of such mythological figure of Iranian pantheon as Rapithwin, the “spirit of mid-day,” appears only in these two texts (Minov 2014, pp. 153-165). All this suggests that both the Pseudo-Dionysian tractate and CT stem from the same cultural milieu, in which similar cosmological and astronomical ideas were in circulation. It is not easy to establish with a sufficient degree of certainty the nature of literary relations between these two works. According to Sebastian Brock, who points at the verbatim agreement between them in the description of the underground channels, it was the author of CT who made use of the Pseudo-Dionysian tractate (See BROCK 2008, pp. 555-556). In my opinion, however, it would be more logical to explain this stock of common vocabulary and motifs by suggesting that literary dependence went in opposite direction, i.e. that it was the author of the Pseudo-Dionysian tractate who relied on CT. To that points out the use by the Pseudo-Dionysian author of the story of the Magi, which does not play an important role in his work, dealing mainly with cosmological issues, but is an integral element of CT’s narrative.

One might add to these two literary sources the story, found in CT XXVII.4-5, that recounts the founding of a Zoroastrian fire-temple in Azerbaijan by the king Sasan (see MINOV 2013a, pp. 208-219). This account is apparently refers to Ādur Gušnasp, the most famous Sasanian cultic center, known nowadays as the archaeological site Takht-i Sulaimān in West Azerbaijan, Iran. What seems to be relevant for our discussion of CT’s date is that this temple was sacked and destroyed by the Byzantine troops under the command of Emperor Heraclius in the year 623, during his Persian campaign. It is noteworthy that in CT’s description of the Zoroastrian sanctuary this dramatic event is not reflected at all. This fact seems to suggest that our author wrote before the destruction of the temple of Ādur Gušnasp by Heraclius and, thus, provides us with the second decade of the seventh century as the terminus ante quem for his work. Taking into consideration all this evidence as well as significant use by the author of CT of Iranian ideas and images (MINOV 2013a), and the absence from CT of any references to the Arabic conquest, Islam or the Arabs in general, it seems reasonable to date this work by the pre-Islamic period and to propose the first two decades of the seventh century as the terminus ante quem for it.

1. Terminus post quem
2. First of all, at a relatively late date of CT’s composition points the use by its author of the name of Sasanian monarch Pērōz. In CT XLV.19, where the story of the three Magi that came to worship the infant Jesus is related one of them is named after this monarch. While the form of his name varies in different manuscripts – OrM ܘܕܕûñ, OrAELOPSUV ܘܙܕûñ, OrBCD ܘܙûÙñ, OrH ܘܙܕܕûñ, Oca ܪܙܕܢÍñ, Ocd ܘܙܕܢûñ, its derivation from the name Pērōz can hardly be doubted, especially if we take into consideration that the names of two other Magi are also derived from the names of Sasanian kings – Yazdegerd and Hormozd. Accordingly, it seems reasonable to accept the suggestion made by Witold Witakowski that the rule of Pērōz (459-484) might serve as a terminus post quem for this tradition.35 Thus, based on these considerations, Philip Wood has suggested that CT was composed “within a generation of the reign of Peroz, i.e. c. 480–520”.36
3. Another detail that points at a later date of CT is the mention of the “tunic” (ܐæØܬÍÜ) of Christ.37 According to CT L.8-12, this precious relic that would bring down rain during the times of drought was originally in possession of an unnamed soldier, from whom it was taken over by Pilate and sent to the emperor Tiberius. The earliest mention of this relic comes from a Christian Arabic source, – the letter supposedly sent by the comes Dorotheus, who was the ruler of Palaestina Secunda during the years 452-453, to Marcel and Mari, two archimandrites from “the village of Ḥasā,” otherwise unknown.38 In this work, a story is told about the relic of Jesus’ “garment” ( كسا ء( , which he wore at the time of his crucifixion, having had been recovered in Jerusalem from the local Jews in the year 450.39
4. According to Michel van Esbroeck, the publisher of this text, its original was composed during the second half of the fifth century. In a later article, where van Esbroeck traces development of the legend about the tunic of Christ, he argues that it was put into circulation in Byzantine Palestine during the last two decades of the fifth century.40 To that it might be added that it was only during the sixth century that the notion of this miraculous relic became widely disseminated through the Christian world. Thus, it was known in the sixth-century Latin West as one can see from the testimony of Gregory of Tours.41Among the Syriac-speaking Christians familiar with the tunic’s story one might mention Aḥob of Qaṭar, a sixth-century East-Syrian writer, whose scholia on the Gospel of John survived in the Geez translation of Ibn al-Ṭayyib’s Commentary on John. 42 It is also remarkable that Jacob of Serug devotes a considerable space to the tunic, its origins and symbolism (though not to its afterlife) in one of his poems dealing with the Passion narrative.43 Taken together, these observations provide us with the last two decades of the fifth century as another terminus post quem for CT.
5. Additional support for such a relatively late terminus post quem for CT is provided in an article by Clemens Leonhard, in which he examines closely the pericope dealing with the sacrifice of Isaac (CT XXIX.8-14) (LEONHARD 2004). Having compared the textual evidence for this passage available in Ri’s edition, Leonhard has convincingly argued in favor of primacy of the manuscript OrF from the Eastern recension as “der älteste erreichbare Text” over the rest of CT’s textual witnesses. What is even more significant, he brings into discussion a rather peculiar tradition about Jesus’ circumcision that appears in OrF in CT XXIX.
6. It has been suggested by Leonhard that this unusual depiction of Jesus’ circumcision reflects Christological position that was characteristic for one particular group within the broad spectrum of the sixth century Christianity – that of the socalled “Aphthartodocetes” or “Phantasiasts”. This radical strand within the Monophysite movement was characterized by adherence to the ideas of Julian of Halicarnassus regarding the original incorruptibility of Christ’s body. Leonhard bases his argument on one of the pastoral letters of Severus of Antioch written during the patriarch’s exile in Egypt, where Severus addresses the problem of the fate of the prepuce of Jesus after his circumcision in order to provide an answer to the claim of certain “Phantasiasts” ( æñ ̈ ܐÓéÙéÓ ), who deny that Christ was “circumcised in reality”.
7. This possibility is strengthened further by some additional evidence about the controversy that developed around the issue of Jesus’ circumcision among the Syriacspeaking Monophysites. In the first decade of the sixth century Philoxenus of Mabbug in the Commentary on Luke wages polemic against an interpretation of Luke 2:21 denying reality of Jesus’ circumcision that was embraced by some unidentified “blasphemers” (ܐæñÊܓâ̈ ).
8. What is significant for the dating of CT is that we seem to have the terminus post quem for the origin of the tradition connecting Solomon and Heliopolis. The necessary information comes from the so-called Oracle of Baalbek, an anonymous apocalyptic composition written in Greek. As it has been shown by the editor of the text, Paul J. Alexander, this text was composed between the years 502 and 506 by an unknown Christian author, on the basis of an older apocalyptic text, the Theodosian Sybil. The most important aspect of this account for my argument is that no mention of Solomon in connection with the building of the Heliopolitan temples appears in the Oracle. This is remarkable if we will take into consideration the fact that its author, although a Christian, does openly take pride in the grandeur and beauty of the pagan monuments, and otherwise is prone to indulge into local patriotism.76 It seems highly unlikely that the author of the Oracle would miss such an opportunity to glorify his native city in case he knew about Solomon’s connection to Heliopolis. Accordingly, the most reasonable explanation of this silence is that the tradition came into existence only after the time of the Oracle’s composition, i.e. the first decade of the sixth century. Additional support for this claim is provided by the fact that for the first time connection between Solomon and Heliopolis appears in the Syriac sources from the second half of the sixth century – Pseudo-Zachariah and John of Ephesus. Therefore, we may suggest that the author of CT, who made use of this tradition, could not compose his work earlier than the second decade of the sixth century.
9. Milieu of CT (East-Syrian features in CT)(edited)
10. The main support for the proponents of the theory of East-Syrian provenance of CT comes from the explicit anti-Monophysite statements found in the two passages of the Eastern recension – CT XXI.19 and XXIX.10. The longer of these passages, CT XXI.19, is found in the section retelling the story of Noah’s drunkenness and cursing of Canaan. There, after the typological interpretation of the patriarch’s lapse, based on Psalm 78:65, that likens Noah’s drunken posture to that of Jesus on the cross, the following aside remark is found .

1. Similar, although shorter, polemical statement appears later on, in CT XXIX.10, where the typological explanation of the lamb on the tree in the story of Isaac’s sacrifice (Gen 22:13) as a symbol of crucified Jesus is accompanied by the following explanation. These passages attack some unidentified “heretics” that, supposedly, ascribe to the Divine Nature a possibility of suffering. One immediately recognizes in them the accusation of theopaschism, a stock argument from the arsenal of anti-Monophysite polemic employed by East-Syrian polemicists (See CHEDIATH 1982, pp. 71-75). Both these passages, thus, should be taken as expressions of the mainstream East-Syrian theology. This is more so, given the appearance of the Christological formula of “the two qnōmē united in one sonship” in CT XXI.19. Now, the question arises whether this polemic should be regarded as authentic, i.e. pertaining to the original stratum of CT, or as later addition. There are several reasons that make us to prefer the latter option. Secondary nature of these passages is more obvious in the case of the first passage, CT XXI.19. First of all, it does not fit well within its literary unit, since it breaks the flow of narrative, where the call to wake up addressed to God in the quotation from Psalm 78:65 would be followed immediately by Noah’s wake up from his sleep. Moreover, it goes against the general habit of the use of Scriptural quotations by CT’s author, who generally does not pile them one upon another in order to make his point.
2. Second suspicious feature of the first passage is the appearance in it of the “two qnōmē” Christological language, a distinctive attribute of the East-Syrian Christology. The problem with this formula in CT is that it entered the stock of East-Syrian Christological terminology relatively late, during the first half of the seventh century.87 The first official adoption of the language of “the two qnōmē united in one parṣōpā of sonship” comes from the profession of faith offered by the East-Syrian bishops to the Shah Khusrau II in the year 612.88 However, even after that it took some time and efforts on the side of the hierarchy of the Church of the East to overcome resistance to this new-fangled formula and promulgate it among the wide masses of believers. This fact, taken together with the generally non-sophisticated and archaizing theological language of CT as well as our tentative dating of this work, would put its author rather ahead of his time.

1. Presence of this exclusively Miaphysite material in the Eastern recension cannot be explained as an isolated case of later textual addition, since it is attested in all manuscripts of this recension. Accordingly, we must assume that it was present in the lost prototype from which all East-Syrian manuscripts are ultimately derived. This gives us a serious reason to challenge the consensus regarding the EastSyrian origins of CT. In fact, some scholars have already opted in favor of a WestSyrian provenance for this work. Thus, Ernest Budge was the first, who raised such a possibility. In the introduction to his English translation of CT he states that “the writer was certainly a Syrian Jacobite who was proud of his native language”.102 As an illustration of his thesis, Budge points out several examples, where the author of CT affirms the priority of Syriac language (i.e. CT XXIV.9-11; LIII.25-26). However, important as they are for understanding the cultural background of CT, these passages by themselves can hardly be given the weight of definitive proof when it comes to the confessional profile of its author, since the priority of Syriac language was evoked not only by the West-Syrians but also by some Antiochene and East-Syrian authors. To that one might add a recent contribution of Sebastian Brock, who in the review of Alexander Toepel’s book on CT has pointed out several instances of WestSyrian traditions that appear in our work.
2. Besides the identification of the spirit of Genesis 1:2 with the Holy Spirit, with which I am dealing in details further, Brock mentions two other cases: (a) appearance in CT V.8 (OrM) of a strikingly West-Syrian incarnational formula, i.e. the phrase ܐÿßܘÿܒܒ çܓâ; (b) a peculiar syntactic form ( ܫûñ Ìß ܗܘ̣( , typical for the West-Syrian translation technique, that is used in CT III.3 (OrM) in order to describe Satan’s separation from God. While both these cases conform to the aforementioned criterion of dissimilarity, since both of them appear in the manuscripts of the Eastern recension, their absence from the best Eastern textual witness, i.e. OrA, prevents us from giving too much weight to them.