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“To the Jew first………….”
By
B. Cobbey Crisler
B. Cobbey Crisler searching for the menorah
Foreword
This article by my late husband, B. Cobbey Crisler came during research in Turkey and Greece for a companion book to Come See The Place, The Holy Land Jesus Knew, with co-author Robert J. Bull and photographer Gordon Converse. The new book would be titled, Fishers of men: The Way of The Apostle. It was published by Prentice Hall in 1980.
Cobbey wanted readers of the book to visually, historically and archaeologically identify with Paul, John, Peter, Philip and the other apostles as they taught Christianity westward through the ancient world.
Research for Fishers of Men…took us to dramatic and remote archaeological ruins both in Turkey and Greece. Cobbey was the one responsible for maintaining the site/research schedule and often the days were long and tiring, but his enthusiasm for the project and his buoyant good humor were an inspiration encouraging us all to press on.
All those months of preparation at home in Carmel, California, were very rewarding. This was particularly so for his unplanned discovery of a menorah on the steps of the Celsus Library at Ephesus. However, without permission from the Austrian Archaeological Institute, responsible for excavation and restoration at Ephesus this discovery and article would not have been realized.
When I return to Ephesus today, I always enjoy watching knowledgeable tour guides point out the little menorah followed by a chorus of tourists clicking cameras. Cobbey would be delighted proving his research had been recognized.
As his wife for thirty odd years I can attest to the demand for honest scholarship he always placed upon himself was of the highest degree. Certainly his greatness was in proportion to his humility and grace before God.
Janet V. Crisler
There are scattered signs throughout the excavated Roman world of the Jewish Diaspora. To twentieth-century archeologists, such remnants may loom large. In the time of Paul and during subsequent Roman centuries, however, these would have appeared as mere tokens of the living, breathing entity that was Judaism of the period.
The Diaspora, unlike the Jews in Judea, confronted Rome as a decided but influential minority. Wherever the' essentially alien cultures of Israel and Rome met, there were choices to be made for blend or confrontation. From the holocaust in the Caesarea amphitheater to the startling examples of synagogue architecture embodying pagan and astrological designs, pressures were exerted and felt on both sides for toleration, accommodation and conformity.Israel had felt such pressures before. Canaan had been as much compromise and coexistence as it had conquest. The ancient adulterations of monotheism reached into kings’ palaces of both Judah and Israel and prophets became conscience and martyrs of the nation. As prophesy declined and ritual increased, Greece and Rome presented intense and even wider challenges. The network of roads, the lingua franca, the common laws, provided as strong catalyst in the melting pot for human interaction as the influences of technology have shrunk our world today. Rome bent; Israel bent.
There was hierarchical collaboration in Herod’s Romanization of Palestine; Josephus could defect to Rome and yet become his nation's greatest historical defender and literary archivist outside of the Bible's authors themselves; Rome protected Jews, inscribed bronze tablets and passed laws respecting their worship, even guaranteeing them a favored status in many parts of the empire; Jews wept and intoned for three days at the funeral pyre of Julius Caesar. There were lapses, of course, as at Caesarea and in the Claudian expulsion of Jews from Rome (although this was impulsore Chresto, according to Suetonius). But, the existence of functioning and flourishing synagogues practically everywhere Paul went, his instant contacts with and freedom of access to them, are Scriptural attestations to the worldwide success of this trust-by-agreement between Israel and Rome.
All of this came into special focus in August of 1978, for Gordon Converse, photographer, Robert J. Bull, archaeologist, and me, who undertook to trace together the way marks of Paul and other apostles. The assignment was our second book as a team for Prentice-Hall, this one to be published in Fall 1980, under the title Fishers of Men: The Way of the Apostles. My wife, Janet, Gordon's wife, Shirley, and Marilyn and Bill Soukeian (who were in large part responsible, along with the Charles Stewart Harding Foundation of flint, and The Foundation for Research and Preservation of Primitive Christianity of Charlestown, NH, for our ability to take this trip) accompanied, encouraged and endured!
What a sharp contrast for us to turn from the compressed fountainhead of Christianity in Jesus' Palestine (the subject of our first book) and follow the course of the sluiceway through Antioch, to Damascus, to Tarsus, to all the epistolary sites west, through Turkey and Greece, to Malta and, by ship, to the port of Naples and then overland to the Empire's capital itself! For sheer mileage, Paul deserves a better press than allotted to him by armchair critics. The enormity of his challenges aside (and they were enough for several average lifetimes - see his list at II Corinthians 11:23 ff), to traverse the geography of Acts and Paul's epistles at home, is somewhat like studying a photostat of Richard Halliburton's odometer. To travel the route is to become empathetic!
"To the Jew first..." (Romans 1:16) was the watchword of Paul's missionary activity. So it was natural for Messrs. Bull, Converse and I to feel drawn towards vestiges of the Diaspora. Some we searched for intentionally; some we stumbled upon. Although most post-dated Paul's connection with their sites, there were stones crying out from communities long extinct in situ, but still vivid in the thoughts of Bible students.
For Paul, John, Peter, Philip and the other apostles, Judaism was that indispensable link that not only provided Christianity's first audiences but also offered the shelter of an existing structure. Christianity owes much to the synagogue. The precedent was there for theological unity between congregations, despite the great distances of geography and culture. Even worldwide Jewish allegiance to and maintenance of the Jerusalem Temple, as long as it stood, was a pattern emulated by the infant church. For Christianity, in its separation from the womb of parochialism and in developing a universal structure of its own, began to found its own branch communities on the synagogue ·1 model, fully allegiant to Jerusalem's "Mother" Church, governed by its sanhedrin of "apostles and elders" (Acts 15: 2,4, 6,22,23).
Judaic symbols were not foreign to emergent Christianity. For those earliest missionaries, the menorah, the lulav (palm branch) and the shofar (trumpet) would have communicated home and fraternity in the midst of a hostile world. Hadn't Jesus himself insisted on a lampstand, in order to share light? Had he not been welcomed to Jerusalem by Jews bearing the lulav, just one week before his crucifixion? Was not the trump on the last day identified, through imagery, with the shofar?
At this primitive period, the opportunities for retaining the unity of these two great monotheistic faiths were obviously more than the possibilities for division, or the apostles hardly would have pursued as vigorously and persistently (despite distant early warning signs), the policy of "to the Jew first...."
When we first caught sight of the white cliffs of Hierapolis (modern Pamukkale or "Cotton Fortress" - in Turkey), I wondered if Paul, each time he addressed letters to the Colossian churches, thought of this remarkable work of nature. Behind us and across the Lycus Valley, there had stood the last of the seven churches in John's Apocalyptic list, the "lukewarm" church, several miles and degrees of temperature from Hierapolis' hotsprings.
The necropolis at Hierapolis is almost as breathtaking as its calcareous deposits. We were looking for the top of an ancient Jewish sarcophagus, complete with lion's head and engraved menorah, that Sir William Ramsay and others had reported was here. Francesco d'Andria, one of the members of the Italian archaeological team under Paolo Verzone, led us to the spot. Such aid was needed and greatly appreciated. George Bean's description conveys an idea of the extent of the necropolis, "Not fewer than 1,200 tombs have been counted, and over 300 epitaphs have been read and published." (Turkey Beyond the Meander, p.245). The perceptible part of the sarcophagus' inscription that we found to the left of the menorah, was unmistakably, Udeon or "Jew'.
A second discovery was a three-footed menorah incised on another stone in the necropolis. The lulav appeared on one side of the menorah and a stylized shofar on the other, a combination widely attested to on Jewish monumental inscriptions throughout the Roman world. Although belonging perhaps to the '2nd or 3rd centuries A.D., these fragments had brought us closer to the city of Philip, Epictetus and Papias. We had the inclination to explore further. But, our schedule was tight. Not only had the ravages of time affected the necropolis; they seemed to be chafing against us as well. Turkey's distances must be covered in daylight, if at all possible! Our host the member of the Italian team of archaeologists had helped immensely. We asked quickly if he knew the present whereabouts of other Hierapolis inscriptions relating to the Jews, as recorded by Ramsay in his The Letters to the Seven Churches, such as:
1) A reference to the Jewish congregation as "the settlement of katoikia of the Jews." The term katoikia, Ram say says, "was appropriated specially to the colonists planted by those kings (Graeco-Asiatic) in their new foundations" - perhaps an epigraphic hint of the origins of the Jewish community there in the Hellenistic period.
2) The epitaph directing that interest earned on a stephanoticum be used to lay a wreath on the tomb of a Jew during the feasts of Unleavened Bread and Pentecost. This is mentioned by both Ramsay and Bean.
Neither inscription, however, was familiar to our new-found friend and colleague.
When we arrived in Ephesus, we were greeted by a city that presents itself more grandly each year, as archaeologists free it from the enveloping earth of centuries. One extraordinary restoration project, under the watchful care and efforts of Austrian archaeologists and director Hermann Vetters, is nearing completion. The facade of the Library of Celsus (dedicated to Gaius Julius Celsus, proconsul of Asia, A.D. 106- 107, by his son) has made second-century Ephesians feel a touch of home.
Seven years before, on my first visit, the Library was composed of little more than nine stairs and a truncated frame. Today, the contrast is vivid. Even those among the archaeological faculty whose hearts may be hardened on the subject of the "guesswork" of restoration must admire the Austrian contribution. Tourists' mouths, of course, are agape!
Restoration of the Celsus Library, 1978
Our compulsion to follow Paul's motivation "to the Jew first" led me to follow through on a memory of seven years that a crudely-scratched menorah had been somewhere on the platform or steps of the Library. Although the synagogue itself, mentioned in Acts 18:19, 26 and 19:8 (or a descendant), has defied excavators so far, this lone menorah provided archaeological evidence of the Jewish presence, perhaps even of heroic protest, at some point after A.D. 110. For this is the date when inscriptions in both Latin and Greek, on the wings of the Library's staircase, indicated construction when the building began.
Through the courtesy and cooperation of Dr. Mev Coskun, Minister of Tourism and Information, (and colleagues Yelman Emcan, Hüseym Uluaslan, Ibrahim E. Büyükbenli and Dr. Orhan Aytug Tasyürek) who personally saw that all doors were opened to us in areas of his domain, we entered Ephesos shortly after dawn and were able to photograph the ancient architecture suffused in that delicate light and freedom from bustling crowds. The city speaks at that early hour, and we became its listeners.
Later as the world woke up around us, the gates opened and the buses arrived in their diesel clouds; air-brakes hissed and tour guides began their babel. We blended into the commotion and headed for the Celsus Library to inspect the steps and platform. There was no sign of the menorah anywhere. So we left the site for the archaeological museum in nearby Selcuk to photograph the first-century Artemis statue that had perhaps mutely witnessed that riot in the theater, mentioned in Acts 19:29 ff, when for two hours a confused crowd (construction of the
theater in the time of Nero would have permitted a seating capacity of 24,000) shouted, "Great Diana of the Ephesians.
While at the museum, we discussed the menorah with the curator, who seemed vaguely aware of such a discovery. This was enough to send us back to the site, although we left Janet, Shirley, Marilyn and Bill at the museum. The hour was now 11:30 AM and time and hunger seemed pressing for priority.
This time, at the Library, we ran into the architect of the Austrian expedition charged with restoration of the structure. Our mention of the menorah met with instant recognition. He recalled it had been uncovered approximately seven years before. The problem, however, was that restoration of the facade had since coated the steps and platform with uneven layers of grey cement or mortar, which had spilled while wet, from the work above. In fact, he had not seen the menorah for some years but thought it was on the platform of the portico. Since he was leaving for lunch, not to return for two hours, he could not consult the plans, at that moment but asked if we would wait for him.
Again, time became the factor. I made a highly unusual request. Could we, in his absence, liberate parts of the platform and stairs from its grey shell? This might help his work and reveal the menorah at the same time. He agreed and assigned a Turkish workman to assist. For two hours, we worked to clear and brush-clean the surface of the platform. We found what appeared to be games etched by players who, along with their won-lost records, had long since passed from memory. But no menorah! Our architect returned from lunch and helped in every way he could. We thumbed through the plans of the dig and the restoration, but our quick scanning brought nothing to light.
At this point, the drive to discover was beginning to meet justifiable and quite normal resistance from all members of our party. Lunch had already been delayed and we had yet to visit Miletus. There were "miles to go" before we slept. Still I pleaded for one further reprieve to examine the stairs while Gordon and Bob went to eat and assure the others at the museum. They returned and it was obvious from the looks on their faces that my time had run out! With a last desperate sweep of the stairs, I prepared to leave, when suddenly at my feet appeared the undeniable form of a three-footed menorali, with the hint of a lulav on its right.
Can you imagine how we felt, after expending so much unavailing effort, to see beneath us this evidence of the Diaspora? The unknown inscriber had chosen this important public place, the stairs of the Ubrary, to engrave his message of 1 loyalty and protest. Had he touched the hearts of his community as well? We could not but help but recall what another Jew, whose later years were spent at Ephesus (according to early tradition), had recorded in the Apocalypse as the "words of the One who... walks among the seven lamps of gold." "The angel of the church of Ephesus" is warned, "if you do not repent, I shall come to you and remove your lamp from its place..." (Revelation 2:1,5). We were aware that the A Greek word for lamp, luchnia, used by the Revelator here, also I translates, in the LXX, the Hebrew word menorah at Exodus 25:31 if. Josephus uses it (Ant. 14,72) and so does the author of Hebrews 9:2, with specific reference to the Temple menorah.
Scratched on this stair, then, perhaps a generation after John's recording of the Apocalypse, is this haunting conjunction of Jewish and Christian symbolism. This simple, sole survivor of the Jewish presence in Ephesus, seemed to suggest, as well, the spirit of Paul's message to this city (if indeed, the original was I meant for Ephesus), "For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us." (Ephesians 2:14).
The Menorah
The site of the Library presented another interesting aspect. On or in front of this site, a century earlier, the "school of one Tyrannus" (“hall" - NEB) where Paul preached for two I years (Acts 19: 9, 10), may have been located. There is an inscription that mentions an auditorium. Akurgal in his indispensable book, Ancient Civilizations and Ruins of Turkey, suggests "very probably" that this auditorium "occupied the space lying between the street and the pool in front of the library." Akurgal continues, "Professors, rhetoricians and poets held lectures in this hall.... No trace of this auditorium has survived; on the other hand, a portion of the platform of a circular building of Hellenistic origin, destroyed when the auditorium was under construction is still in evidence." (page 161).
In fact one could well surmise that this was indeed the academic sector of the ancient City, before the Library was even constructed. That in itself would have been a prime factor in influencing the Library's own location. if this auditorium (or its Hellenistic predecessor) have ought to do with the lecture-hall of Tyrannus, it is interesting to recall that the Codex Bezae preserves a substantive addition to the text of Acts, giving the hours of Paul's preaching there "from the fifth to the tenth hour," or from 11 AM to 4 PM, during the heat of the day. Otto F. A. Meinardus suggests the building "was probably rented to visiting lecturers" after business hours and quotes Ramsay's statement that "public life in the lonian cities ended regularly at the fifth hour." Meinardus also notes this parallel: 'rThe hall of Tyrannus played the same part in Ephesus as did the house of Titus Justus adjoining the synagogue in Corinth." (St. Paul in Ephesus, page 69).
Perhaps the lone menorah will help illumine our modern search for the synagogue, in the immediate environs of the academic sector and later Library, or, as Meinardus prefers (ibid. page 63), "on the northern outskirts of the city in order to be near water necessary for ritual purposes." Wherever the physical site of the structure, Josephus provides literary evidence that the Jews of Ephesus were there and had petitioned Rome to "be allowed to observe their Sabbaths, and to act in all things according to the customs of their forefathers." And the Senate the People had 4 decreed, "no one of them should be hindered from keeping the
Sabbath-day, nor be fined for so doing; but that they may be allowed to do all things according to their own laws." (Ant. 14, 10,25).
Josephus reports a similar decision in favor of the Jews at Miletus, including the right "to manage the fruits of the earth according to their ancient custom" (Ant. 14, 10,21). Miletus was our next stop. Here was the port city on the Aegean and at the mouth of the Maeander River. According to Strabo, one of Miletus' four harbors could hold a fleet, but this is hard to picture now. The site of the ancient city is several miles from the sea, having suffered, as Ephesus, from the irresistible silt which now land-locks its ruins.
A synagogue of Roman date and of the basilica plan has been uncovered near Lion's Bay harbor. Here two Hellenistic lions still stand guard over what must have been a grand entrance into the city. Paul's ship probably docked there and not far away, perhaps within sight of the synagogue, he bid the elders from Ephesus farewell, in that deeply moving incident, predicting afflictions that would befall him and adding, "But none of these things move me . . ." (Acts 20:22-24). Luke's description of this moment has provided us with one of those rare statements attributed to Jesus outside the gospels, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." The account closes as they accompanied him unto the ship." (Acts 20:38).
Miletus has yielded further archaeological evidence of the Jewish presence as well as their stature among fellow Milesians. For an inscription appears on a row of seats in the remarkably preserved Graeco-Roman theater, reserving that section as the "place of the Jews and the God-fearing". Although the Greek phrasing here is not the same as that used by Paul in his address to the synagogue of Pisidian Antioch, it is worthy of note that he refers to the congregation there using two terms, "men of Israel" (andres Israelitai) and "ye that fear God" (phoboumenoi ton Theon). Luke further describes the latter as "religious S proselytes" (Acts 13:16,43). Both this incident and the Miletus inscription provide serious evidence that the tangency of Israel and Rome had been felt and expressed to the point of welcoming not only newcomers but aliens into the congregation.
No more impressive architectural evidence of Jewish standing and influence in an ancient community exists, however, than the synagogue of ancient Sardis, now in the process of restoration by the Harvard-Cornell archaeological team. Although the final report is yet to be published by the excavators, it seems we have evidence for a synagogue at this location, at least, by the 3rd -century A.D. with expansion to its present dimensions in the 4th century. A natural question would be why this largest and most magnificent of ancient synagogues yet uncovered is found in Sardis. Josephus may provide us with a logical explanation, an underpinning of historical precedent, why we might expect a later synagogue could occupy prime territory in the heart of the city with impunity, in fact with the apparent support of the citizenry.
In Sardis, of all the communities where Roman decrees established and protected the worship of the Jews, Josephus records a mandate "that a place may be given them where they may have their congregations with their wives and children, and may offer, as did their forefathers, their prayers and sacrifices for God." The decree continues, "That such a place be set apart for them by the praetors, for the building and inhabiting the same, as they shall esteem fit for that purpose.... It would be interesting to know if the Jewish community in Sardis came to be regarded as a model of coexistence by both Romans and Jews. Although arguments from silence are not impressive and four other Apocalyptic churches can claim the same distinction, the interdiction (in a Christian context) against the “synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not," although thundered at Smyrna and Philadelphia, is not applied to Sardis. (Revelation 9:9; 3:9).
There is no direct Scriptural link between Paul and Sardis, but it would be difficult to conceive of such a cosmopolitan Asian center with a large Jewish community that did not feel the influence of his letters, as well as John's. There is no lack of Scriptural documentation, however, that Paul's letters influenced Corinth, the capital of Achaia. His first visit there was "to the Jew first...." He stayed with "a certain Jew named Aquila. . . with his wife Priscilla". They were professional colleagues, tentmakers recently banished from Rome under the Claudian edict. Each Sabbath, Paul could be found in the synagogue reasoning and persuading "the Jews and the Greeks." ("Gentiles" - NEB). (Acts 18:4).
When Silas and Timothy returned from Macedonia and joined Paul, he unleashed in the synagogue what he had always reserved as his most powerful point, that Jesus was the Messianic fulfillment, long awaited by the Jews. Furor resulted and Paul, the Pharisee, had to separate himself further. He moved next door to the house of Titus Justus. What tremors must have been felt between those adjoining buildings as Crispus, the archisynagogos, left his office and allegiance and joined Paul; and when Sosthenes, new or second archisynagogos, appeared before Gallio to accuse Paul and is given a beating for his effort. An afterquake, measuring high on the scale, would have been Sosthenes' own defection, if indeed it is the same Sosthenes referred to by Paul as "the brother" in his opening sentence of the first epistle to the Corinthians. Corinth indeed felt the presence of Paul.
In the excavation of the Lechaion Road, on the stairs leading up to the Agora, a broken lintel, containing part of a crudely worked inscription, was discovered. The extant letters read, goge ebr. With missing letters supplied, the complete inscription A must have been synagogue ebraion, or "synagogue of the Hebrews." Dated somewhere between 100 B.C. and A.D. 200, according to Jack Finegan, "it may have stood over the entrance to the synagogue in which Paul preached (Acts 18:4), or have marked a later building on the same site." Finegan considers the "probable location of the synagogue" to be the east side of the Lechaion Road. (Light from the Ancient Past, pages 361-2).
One further link with the ancient Jewish community in Corinth came to light in the excavation of the theater. An impost of marble was found with three carved menoroh and two representations of the lulav. There is a marked difference in design between the menorah on either side and the one in the middle. A fifth century date has been proposed for this fragment.
One question, both unsought and unexpected at the beginning of our trip, had been raised and answered by the end. Did Paul's policy "to the Jew first... "make sense? It made native sense to a Pharisee, long at-one with the inspired monotheism of the Jewish Scriptures. It was a mandate felt by Paul, the Christian, for the Damascus vision had not really changed his love for his people, but reinforced it, with the conviction that Jesus was indeed their Messiah and his people should be the first to know. (Acts 9:20; 26:26).
Paul must have fully expected, initially, given the power of his persuasion, his mastery of the Scripture and the authority of his vision, that the receptive among his own nation would join him immediately on that Damascus road and rejoice in the "good news." This, however, did not happen. Jews did not respond in vast numbers. Instead, Gentiles began to be curious and were drawn. In Antioch of Pisidia, the Jewish congregation faced a crisis and made a decision. Instead of welcoming the inquiry in their synagogue of the Gentiles and "almost the whole city together," they reacted and resisted. For them, it had been too far, too fast.
For Paul, here was the first real dichotomy since his exit in one basket. The lines were drawn and violence followed. His commitment was unequivocally to a Rabbi who had sent his twelve immediate disciples at first not to the Gentiles nor to the Samaritans but "rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." (Matthew 10:6). But, this same Jesus of Nazareth had recognized no such foreshortening of his own mission, but went to Samaritans and Gentiles and openly declared there were "other sheep... not of this fold" and envisioned one flock and one shepherd (John 10:16).
This was to become the apostle Paul's vision as well, springing from the necessity of events. Turning to the Antioch congregation, he said, "It was necessary that the word of God should first have been spoken unto you," but then added, lo, we turn to the Gentiles." As authority for this radical move (always alert to make a distinction between his personal opinion and “Thus saith the Lord"), he referred to Isaiah 49:6.
Through all Paul experienced, his vision did not wither but widened. To those Galatians and the neighboring Colossian churches, as well as to "they that are of Caesar's household" (Philippians 4:22), at the heart of the Empire itself, he entrusted his ultimate insight on the subject, "there is neither Jew nor Greek" (Galatians 3:28; Colossians 3:11; Romans 10, 12). Designer By Vaner YILDIRIM |