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Integrating patristics and early Jewish mysticism, this book examines Gregory of Nyssa's tabernacle imagery, as found in Life of Moses 2. 170-201. Previous scholarship has often focused on Gregory's interpretation of the darkness on Mount... more
Integrating patristics and early Jewish mysticism, this book examines Gregory of Nyssa's tabernacle imagery, as found in Life of Moses 2. 170-201. Previous scholarship has often focused on Gregory's interpretation of the darkness on Mount Sinai as divine incomprehensibility. However, true to Exodus, Gregory continues with Moses's vision of the tabernacle 'not made with hands' received within that darkness. New light is shed on Gregory's tabernacle imagery thanks to an innovative methodology of heuristic comparison in which heavenly ascent texts, both Jewish and Christian, ranging from 1 Enoch to the Hekhalot literature, are used as a foil. 

Heavenly ascent texts employ descriptions of religious experience to claim authoritative knowledge. For Gregory, the high point of Moses's ascent into the darkness of Mount Sinai is the mystery of Christian doctrine. The heavenly tabernacle is a type of the heavenly Christ. This mystery is beyond intellectual comprehension, it can only be grasped by faith; and only the select few, destined for positions of responsibility, should even attempt to do so. But its benefits are available to all through the community's worship in the earthly tabernacle. Anyone can aspire to wear an airy, angelic robe by living a life of virtue, in which faith and practice go hand in hand.

Ann Conway-Jones presents a well-rounded, nuanced understanding of Gregory's exegesis, in which mysticism, theology, and politics are intertwined.
Moses’ encounter with God on the summit of Mount Sinai, as told in the biblical book of Exodus, contains a number of peculiarities and paradoxes. Early Christian mystics seized on these as clues to the spiritual understanding of Moses’... more
Moses’ encounter with God on the summit of Mount Sinai, as told in the biblical book of Exodus, contains a number of peculiarities and paradoxes.  Early Christian mystics seized on these as clues to the spiritual understanding of Moses’ experiences, and as guides to the practice of contemplation.  In this course we will examine five moments in Moses’ ascent of Mount Sinai. We will explore how these intriguing passages inspired four early Christian writers – Gregory of Nyssa, Evagrius of Pontus, Pseudo-Macarius and Dionysius the Areopagite – as they reflected on such topics as the unknowability of God and the state of a mind at prayer.  In doing so, we will discover the influence of scripture on the development of the Christian mystical tradition.
We are in Revised Common Lectionary Year A, when most Sunday Gospel readings come from Matthew. Matthew's Gospel is a minefield for Jewish-Christian relations, and the issues raised for preachers involve wider questions about reading and... more
We are in Revised Common Lectionary Year A, when most Sunday Gospel readings come from Matthew. Matthew's Gospel is a minefield for Jewish-Christian relations, and the issues raised for preachers involve wider questions about reading and interpreting troubling scriptural passages. The first half of this article examines Matthew's Gospel in its first century context-in other words, reads it historically. The scholarly understanding of that context has changed dramatically in the last few decades, not least because of the involvement of Jewish New Testament scholars, who have challenged all sorts of Christian stereotypes and misunderstandings. The second half explores the interpretation of Matthew's Gospel in today's contexts, as we look to the Bible for inspiration
This chapter examines Gregory of Nyssa’s anagogical interpretation of scripture, focusing on his treatise Life of Moses. The Exodus narrative of Moses’ encounters with God on Mount Sinai was to prove crucial for the development of... more
This chapter examines Gregory of Nyssa’s anagogical interpretation of scripture, focusing on his treatise Life of Moses.  The Exodus narrative of Moses’ encounters with God on Mount Sinai was to prove crucial for the development of Christian mystical theology.  In his seminal study, Platonisme et théologie mystique, first published in 1944, Jean Daniélou begins by quoting a summary of Moses’ life taken from Gregory’s Homilies on the Song of Songs, using it to define three stages to the spiritual life: light, cloud and darkness.  This neat scheme, however, does not appear in Life of Moses, which follows the biblical narrative, with all its twists and turns.  Gregory is an apophatic theologian, who insists that the essence of God is unknowable.  But scripture gives him permission to use human language for the divine.  And it is the inconsistencies, even contradictions, to be found in the Bible which prove particularly fertile.  The chapter looks at four biblical motifs mined by Gregory for paradoxical imagery fit for talking of the God who cannot be defined: the intolerable sound of trumpets (Ex 19:19, 20:18–19); darkness (Ex 20:21); the tabernacle not made of hands (Ex 25–28); and the place of God (Ex 33:18–23).  The analysis will demonstrate what Steven Katz calls “the fertile interconnection between theology, exegesis, and mystical experience.”  In each case, Gregory draws on difficulties in the biblical text to argue for a higher, spiritual meaning.  His anagogical interpretations combine glimpses of Christological mysteries, vouchsafed to Moses alone, with exhortations to participate in divine virtue, addressed to all.
When Moses descends Mount Sinai for the final time, something has happened to the skin of his face (Ex 34:29). The Septuagint describes him as being charged with glory (δεδόξασται). This paper starts by exploring the antecedents for... more
When Moses descends Mount Sinai for the final time, something has happened to the skin of his face (Ex 34:29).  The Septuagint describes him as being charged with glory (δεδόξασται).  This paper starts by exploring the antecedents for Moses’ transformation in ancient Mesopotamian mythological imagery.  It then traces interpretations of Exodus 34:28-35 through literature written in Greek, from Second Temple Jewish writings and the New Testament to early Christian mystical theologians, focussing on Gregory of Nyssa, The Macarian Homilies, and Pseudo-Dionysius.  It makes a case for understanding these theologians not only in terms of their philosophical commitments, but also through their engagement with scripture, and their exegetical choices.
When considering the role of scripture in the development of Christian prayer, it is noteworthy that early Christian writers seeking to map out contemplation of the divine returned again and again to the Exodus account of Moses’... more
When considering the role of scripture in the development of Christian prayer, it is noteworthy that early Christian writers seeking to map out contemplation of the divine returned again and again to the Exodus account of Moses’ experiences on Mount Sinai. Denys Turner has argued that the Greek theologians who brought together Plato’s allegory of the cave in Book 7 of The Republic with the narrative of Moses encountering God on the summit of Sinai were responsible for ‘a seismic shock which was still registering tremors twelve hundred years later’. This chapter will focus on five key moments in Exodus as interpreted by four theologians, three from the fourth century – Gregory of Nyssa, Evagrius of Pontus and the author of The Macarian Homilies (referred to as Macarius) – along with the late fifth/early sixth-century anonymous Syrian monk who adopted the persona of Dionysius the Areopagite.
Gregory of Nyssa and Dionysius the Areopagite both contemplate the Exodus narrative of Moses’ experiences on Sinai. That narrative is complex, with Moses ascending and descending the mountain several times, sometimes in company, sometimes... more
Gregory of Nyssa and Dionysius the Areopagite both contemplate the Exodus narrative of Moses’ experiences on Sinai. That narrative is complex, with Moses ascending and descending the mountain several times, sometimes in company, sometimes alone. Gregory follows the biblical twists and turns in Life of Moses; the relevant paragraph in Dionysius’ Mystical Theology tells of just one ascent. This article re-examines their dependence on the details of the biblical text, arguing that its exegetical puzzles proved fertile ground for their apophatic insights. Both seize on Exodus 20:21 as symbolising the utter incomprehensibility of God. But they resolve the enigmas of Exodus 33-34 differently. Gregory uses Exodus 33:18-23 as a springboard to his articulation of a never-ending journey into the infinite divine, while Exodus 34:29-35 provides the biblical impetus behind Dionysius’ concept of “union.”
According to Exodus, when Moses descended Mount Sinai with new tablets, ‘the appearance of the skin of his face was charged with glory’ (LXX Ex. 34:29). Gregory’s commentary on this, in Life of Moses 2.217-8, has a number of oddities.... more
According to Exodus, when Moses descended Mount Sinai with new tablets, ‘the appearance of the skin of his face was charged with glory’ (LXX Ex. 34:29). Gregory’s commentary on this, in Life of Moses 2.217-8, has a number of oddities. Firstly, he does not include it in part one of the treatise, the historia. Secondly, he disrupts the biblical sequence, placing Moses’ glorification before, not after, his request that God might appear to him. Thirdly, Gregory says, ‘Moses was transformed to such a degree of glory that the mortal eye could not behold him’, which is not an accurate representation of the story in Exodus. Fourthly, there is a jarring reference to ‘the Judaizing heresy’, more suited to a polemical work. And fifthly, rather than relating the light on Moses’ countenance to his personal growth in virtue, Gregory construes Moses as a type of Christ. Might Paul's influence explain these features? This paper argues that the sequence of 2 Corinthians 3 lies behind Gregory’s exposition of Exodus 33-4: tablets compared to hearts; Moses’ glorified face; the hardening of the Israelites’ minds; and transformation ‘from glory to glory’, which becomes Gregory’s doctrine of epektasis. There are, however, aspects to Paul’s interpretation which Gregory rejects. He does not suggest that Moses’ glory was fading – quite the contrary. And whereas Paul opens up Moses’ experience to all Christians, Gregory focuses on Moses’ uniqueness. Moses is God’s servant par excellence, worthy even to be regarded as a type of Christ.
Roughly one quarter of the biblical book of Exodus is taken up with the tabernacle – the portable wilderness sanctuary, precursor to the Jerusalem temple. First come the instructions to Moses (Exod 25–28) and then an account of the... more
Roughly one quarter of the biblical book of Exodus is taken up with the tabernacle – the portable wilderness sanctuary, precursor to the Jerusalem temple. First come the instructions to Moses (Exod 25–28) and then an account of the tabernacle’s construction (Exod 35–40). Exodus ends with the glory of God filling the tabernacle tent (Exod 40:34). Early Christian writers sought to identify the enduring significance of the divine tabernacle instructions – the “pattern” revealed to Moses on Mount Sinai (Exod 25:9). They were not, by and large, interested in the historical practicalities of the desert tent, but in its theological symbolism. One approach was to allegorize each piece of tabernacle furniture. Another was to reflect on the tabernacle as a material structure enclosing the glory of God, and to see it as a precursor to the incarnation, or the church. And a third approach was to equate Moses’ vision with a heavenly sanctuary, in which God’s throne took the place of the ark in the holy of holies. In these theological interpretations, clear distinctions between the tabernacle and the emple were not always drawn. In Platonic frameworks, for example, both could be viewed as imperfect earthly copies of the same heavenly archetype.

This entry will start by outlining the biblical material and postbiblical Jewish traditions from which early Christian interpretations developed. It will then trace those Christian interpretations, starting with the New Testament, and paying particular attention to the Alexandrian tradition, in which there is a succession of detailed discussions of the Exodus tabernacle instructions stretching from Philo of Alexandria (c. 20 BCE–c. 50 CE) to Cyril of Alexandria (c. 375–444 CE). It will end with a brief note on how early Christian interpretations were taken in a new direction come the medieval period.
Gregory of Nyssa’s depiction of Moses ascending Mount Sinai in Life of Moses is often seen as an allegory of the soul on its journey into the darkness of divine incomprehensibility. However, according to Exodus, once within the darkness... more
Gregory of Nyssa’s depiction of Moses ascending Mount Sinai in Life of Moses is often seen as an allegory of the soul on its journey into the darkness of divine incomprehensibility.  However, according to Exodus, once within the darkness on Mount Sinai, Moses is shown a model of the tabernacle which the Israelites are to build.  This paper focusses on Gregory of Nyssa’s interpretation of that tabernacle vision, which occupies thirty-two paragraphs in Life of Moses (2.170-201), as compared to the three paragraphs devoted to the darkness (2.162-4).  It argues that Gregory is drawing on the paradigm of heavenly ascent, in which religious ‘superheroes’ ascend to the celestial temple in order to glimpse the divine glory upon the chariot throne.  In Jewish and Christian heavenly ascent texts, the paradoxes of this heavenly world are described in graphic detail.  For writers in the Alexandrian tradition, the heavenly temple is the κόσμος νοητός.  Using Col 1:15-19 and John 1:14, themselves dependent on Jewish wisdom traditions, Gregory turns the tabernacle ‘not made with hands’ into a type of Christ.  He also maps its furniture onto the angelic world, and reconciles this with his Christological interpretation thanks to Col 1:16.  However, Gregory does not make this vision the end of Moses’ journey.  He follows Exodus in describing Moses descending the mountain to establish the earthly tabernacle; and makes it clear that this is where most people are to live out their Christian discipleship.  The message of the treatise is not about aspiring to join the heavenly angelic chorus, but belonging to the worshipping community on earth.  Wearing an airy, angelic robe is achieved by living a virtuous life.
McGinn writes that “to neglect the Jewish roots of Christian mysticism and to see it, as many have done, as a purely Greek phenomenon is to risk misconstruing an important part of its history”.  He presents the Jewish apocalypses, alongside the philosophical-religious tradition begun by Plato, as “major components of the background of Christian mysticism”. This paper demonstrates that, even in the case of a fourth century work clearly influenced by Platonism, taking the Jewish matrix of Christian mysticism seriously pays dividends.  Focussing upon Gregory’s tabernacle imagery forces a rethink of his mysticism.  In particular, it cannot be seen as divorced from either theology or church politics.  Gregory interweaves into his description of Moses’ vision of the tabernacle not made with hands the theological themes close to his heart, such as the divinity of Christ and the infinity of God.  And he uses the paradigm of heavenly ascent only to undercut it, aware no doubt of its dangerous potential.  His Christian Moses is not a model for all to follow, but an authority figure whose privileged access to the heavenly mysteries is a preparation for leadership.
The “place of God” is an oxymoron, implying a spatial confinement of the transcendent deity. Gregory of Nyssa calls it “the greatest paradox of all.” It is a biblical image, applied above all to the tabernacle/temple, which inspired a... more
The “place of God” is an oxymoron, implying a spatial confinement of the transcendent deity.  Gregory of Nyssa calls it “the greatest paradox of all.”  It is a biblical image, applied above all to the tabernacle/temple, which inspired a long afterlife of fruitful reflection in both Jewish and Christian traditions.  This paper focusses on the interpretations of the “place of God” in the writings of the fourth century theologians Gregory of Nyssa and Evagrius of Pontus.  They take different biblical verses as their starting points, both from the Exodus narrative of Moses’ experiences on Mount Sinai—a narrative which was to prove crucial for the development of Christian mysticism.  Gregory takes his cue from Exodus 33:21—“Look, a place is near me.  You shall stand on the rock”—and develops an argument for divine infinity.  He correlates this with the relentless nature of the Exodus narrative and Moses’ insatiable desire.  Evagrius is inspired by LXX Exodus 24:10—“and they saw the place, there where the God of Israel stood”—and takes the sapphire blue colour of heaven to represent pure prayer.  He talks of the human mind (nous) as a temple of the Holy Trinity.  A close examination of their interpretations illustrates what Steven Katz calls “the fertile interconnection between theology, exegesis, and mystical experience.”  They have not simply started with preconceived schemes into which they have slotted scriptural proof texts, but genuinely wrestled with biblical texts.  In the new theological context of the fourth century, they have produced fresh exegeses.  Evagrius chooses between different Greek translations; Gregory notices a discrepancy in the scriptural record.  They do not explain away or smooth over the contradictions and difficulties of the biblical text, but work with them creatively, capitalising on the paradoxes, to generate imagery worthy of the unfathomable God.  Unlike Gregory’s highlighting of the darkness in Exodus 20:21, which led, via Pseudo-Dionysius, to the medieval “cloud of unknowing,” these interpretations of the “place of God” have not passed into the bloodstream of the Western mystical tradition.  But they amply illustrate the crucial role of biblical exegesis in the development of Christian mystical theology.
The Jewish Annotated New Testament, edited by Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Brettler, has recently been republished in a second edition. It performs the vital task of correcting Christian misunderstandings, distortions, stereotypes and... more
The Jewish Annotated New Testament, edited by Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Brettler, has recently been republished in a second edition.  It performs the vital task of correcting Christian misunderstandings, distortions, stereotypes and calumnies to recover the various Jewish contexts of Jesus, Paul, and the early Christian movement.  This is a welcome development in the painful history of Jewish–Christian relations.  There is a danger, however, in the book’s Christian reception, of a kind of nostalgia for ‘Jewish roots’—an expectation that by returning to Jesus’ original message, and an ‘authentic’ Jewish form of Christianity, one can bypass centuries of mistrust and worse.  Matters are not that simple.  Christianity grew out of a complex dual heritage, already reflected in the New Testament.  The Christian message quickly spread into the Greek-speaking world, and its adherents soon became majority Gentile. This paper explores the implications of that process, which was begun by Paul, who presented Jewish messianic ideas to a Gentile audience, assigning universal significance to the traditions of his own particular community.  It examines how Jesus’ teachings acquired new meanings, often reflecting a Christian movement at odds with the majority of Jews.  And it unearths the subtext beneath the New Testament’s defamatory polemic.  Doing so involves negotiating the complex relationship between theology and sociology: between ideals (Jewish and/or Christian) and the lived experiences of Jewish and Gentile communities.
This is a fertile time for scholarship on early Jewish–Christian Relations. Traditional certainties, Jewish and Christian, have been overturned, and new models of understanding developed. Terms as central as ‘Judaism’, ‘Christianity’,... more
This is a fertile time for scholarship on early Jewish–Christian Relations. Traditional certainties, Jewish and Christian, have been overturned, and new models of understanding developed. Terms as central as ‘Judaism’, ‘Christianity’, ‘religion’, ‘conversion’, ‘church’ … are being questioned and redefined. The diversity of belief and practice in both religious traditions is being recognised, along with the difficulty of drawing clear boundaries between them in the early centuries. The rhetorical bias of the written sources is being uncovered, and more emphasis placed on lived experience. The aim of such scholarship is an unbiased analysis of history, including a recognition of the complexity of the task. Disseminating it, however, can be tricky, particularly amongst students with an active Christian faith. The difficulties have come sharply into focus for me since becoming involved in teaching biblical studies and Jewish­–Christian relations at a theological college: The Queen’s Foundation for Ecumenical Theological Education in Birmingham, where I am associate tutor and honorary research fellow. In this article I share some of my dilemmas, and conclude by suggesting ways in which they may also be relevant when teaching in secular academic institutions.
The Expository Times 127(2) published an article of mine entitled ‘Contempt or Respect? Jews and Judaism in Christian Preaching’ (first published online in November 2014). In October 2016, I was excited to discover, within OnlineFirst, a... more
The Expository Times 127(2) published an article of mine entitled ‘Contempt or Respect? Jews and Judaism in Christian Preaching’ (first published online in November 2014). In October 2016, I was excited to discover, within OnlineFirst, a Jewish response to my paper by Sebastian Selvén (‘The Bible in Jewish–Christian Dialogue: A Jewish Perspective’, The Expository Times 128.6). I had recently been invited to preach at Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge, at Evensong on Remembrance Sunday, in my capacity as Honorary Secretary of the Council of Christians and Jews. Remembrance Sunday gives a particularly sharp and poignant context to discussion of Jewish-Christian relations. There could be no avoiding the difficult issues, and so I chose the most problematic text I could think of: John 8:44, in which Jesus accuses ‘the Jews’ of having the devil for a father, a calumny exploited in Nazi propaganda. The challenge was to find a creative way forward. The Old Testament, in the form of the encounter between Jacob and Esau, came to my rescue. Part of the dialogue with Sebastian concerned how Christians should read the Hebrew Bible. I hope that this sermon, which reverses the usual lectionary procedure and uses the ‘old’ to reimagine the ‘new’, provides one model.
The biblical Aaron is an ambiguous figure. Brother and spokesperson of Moses, he becomes Israel’s first high priest; but plays a key role in the construction of the golden calf. The fourth century exegetes Gregory of Nyssa and Ephrem the... more
The biblical Aaron is an ambiguous figure. Brother and spokesperson of Moses, he becomes Israel’s first high priest; but plays a key role in the construction of the golden calf. The fourth century exegetes Gregory of Nyssa and Ephrem the Syrian, despite writing in different languages, are both fascinated by the typological possibilities of Old Testament imagery. Their interpretations of Aaron, however, differ markedly. Gregory sees him as a type of humanity’s older brother: the intellectual, incorporeal angelic nature. Angels, like brothers, can be good or bad, and Aaron encapsulates both possibilities. Gregory’s only interest in Aaron’s priesthood is as a rebuke to contemporary priests with luxurious lifestyles. Ephrem is most reluctant to acknowledge Aaron’s shadow side. Rather than splitting him into polar opposites, Ephrem places him halfway up Mount Sinai. In Commentary on Exodus, he strenuously dissociates him from the people, presenting a long list of excuses for his behaviour. In the poetic imagery of his hymns, he associates Aaron with Christ: his snake-eating staff and his censor are symbols of the cross, his blossoming rod represents the virgin birth, or the final resurrection of the dead. But Aaron is more than a type: his priesthood is inherited by John the Baptist through Elizabeth, daughter of Aaron, and then passed to Jesus at his baptism. Only once does Ephrem capture Aaron’s ambiguity, thereby revealing his own troubled relationship with Judaism: the tradition which passed on the atoning and death-defeating priesthood, but which Ephrem condemns as in thrall to Satan.
The fourth century writers Gregory of Nyssa, Evagrius of Pontus and Pseudo-Macarius draw on apocalyptic traditions of heavenly ascent as they reinterpret Moses’ experience on Mount Sinai and Ezekiel’s chariot vision. Alexander Golitzin... more
The fourth century writers Gregory of Nyssa, Evagrius of Pontus and Pseudo-Macarius draw on apocalyptic traditions of heavenly ascent as they reinterpret Moses’ experience on Mount Sinai and Ezekiel’s chariot vision. Alexander Golitzin has coined the phrase ‘the interiorization of apocalyptic’, arguing that for Evagrius and Pseudo-Macarius, ‘the ascent to heaven, the vision of the throne of the glory, the initiation into the mysteries of God’s purposes: all of these now reside within the soul’. It is often assumed that the same is true for Gregory of Nyssa, with Life of Moses presenting the Jewish leader as a
model of the soul’s spiritual journey to God. This article argues, however, that Gregory does not travel as far as Evagrius and Macarius along the route of interiorisation. In Gregory’s portrayal, Moses does not arrive inside himself, but is given a vision of the tabernacle not made with hands, a type of Christ. This is esoteric knowledge of theological verities which are not to be questioned, brought back to the people waiting below by a privileged authority figure. Gregory, a bishop mired in theological controversy, follows Clement and Origen in appropriating apocalyptic imagery for Christianity; it is the monastic leaders Pseudo-Macarius and Evagrius who interiorise it.
Christian sermons often involve discussion of Jews and Judaism, since they are based on the Bible: the Old Testament, which both is and isn’t the Jewish Tanakh and the New Testament, which reflects the fraught first stages of... more
Christian sermons often involve discussion of Jews and Judaism, since they are based on the Bible: the Old Testament, which both is and isn’t the Jewish Tanakh and the New Testament, which reflects the fraught first stages of Christianity’s separation from Judaism. Most Christian preachers are not experts in Second Temple Judaism, the context of Jesus’ ministry, nor do they have much, or indeed any, contact with contemporary Jews. How can they be equipped to talk about Jews and Judaism with respect, rather than perpetuating the traditional ‘teaching of contempt’? This article discusses Christian interpretation of the Old Testament; Jesus the Jew, and his relationship with the Pharisees; and the Christian doctrine of supersessionism.
In Mount Sinai’s darkness, Moses sees the heavenly tabernacle, model for the earthly tabernacle. Gregory tentatively interprets these tabernacles as types of the pre-existent and incarnate Christ. This, according to Daniélou, is "une... more
In Mount Sinai’s darkness, Moses sees the heavenly tabernacle, model for the earthly tabernacle.  Gregory tentatively interprets these tabernacles as types of the pre-existent and incarnate Christ.  This, according to Daniélou, is "une vue personnelle de Grégoire".  Where did the idea originate?  Gregory offers as proof text 1 Cor 1:24 – Christ the power and wisdom of God, not at first sight particularly relevant.  This paper proposes that the key to Gregory’s argument is Proverbs 8, as interpreted in Contra Eunomium 3,1.  1 Corinthians equates Christ with Wisdom; Proverbs, according to Gregory, presents Wisdom as both uncreated and created, thus matching the heavenly and earthly tabernacles.  Gregory argues that Proverbs 8, John 1 and the tabernacle narrative all display the same structure, talking first of the pre-existent Christ’s role in creation, and then of the incarnation.  In both Life of Moses and Contra Eunomium 3,1, Gregory moves on from discussing Christ to the transformation wrought in humanity by the incarnation. 
There is more, however, to the relationship between the tabernacle and wisdom than the same twofold structure.  Gregory draws on longstanding traditions, exemplified by Ben Sira 24 and John 1, themselves reflections on Proverbs 8.  He justifies applying the name ‘tabernacle’ to Christ by reference to John and Colossians, books which have appropriated wisdom traditions.  He quotes the same texts when discussing Proverbs 8 in Contra Eunomium 1.297-305, to prove that Christ is not a creature.  In Life of Moses he creates a complex web of allusions, linking Christ with the tabernacle in three ways: a) present on earth; b) the agent/pattern of creation; and c) the dwelling of the fullness of God.  All three characterisations of wisdom/Christ are there in Contra Eunomium 3,1, established using Proverbs and John.  In Life of Moses Gregory adds references to Colossians, and the tabernacle link. 
This chapter grew out of my elucidation of a dense passage in Life of Moses.  It suggests that the arguments Gregory developed in Contra Eunomium 3,1, to counter Arian claims, influenced his later ‘mystical’ works.
How should Gregory of Nyssa’s Life of Moses be characterised – as a work of mysticism, theology or politics? Daniélou describes it as a mystical treatise; but not everyone agrees. Heine argues that it reflects Gregory’s polemical debates... more
How should Gregory of Nyssa’s Life of Moses be characterised – as a work of mysticism, theology or politics? Daniélou describes it as a mystical treatise; but not everyone agrees. Heine argues that it reflects Gregory’s polemical debates with Origenism and Eunomianism. Lim, meanwhile, points out the social and political factors behind Cappadocian apophaticism. This paper will explore the interplay between mysticism, theology and politics in Life of Moses by focussing on Gregory’s tabernacle imagery. In Life of Moses 2.170-201, Gregory describes Moses’ mystical vision of ‘the tabernacle not made with hands’. This vision conveys theological truths about the pre-existent and incarnate Christ. It also contains a clear warning that the common people – hoi polloi – are to steer clear of such theological mysteries. They are to worship in the earthly tabernacle, without trying to enter the holy of holies. It will be argued that Gregory is drawing on the paradigm of heavenly ascent, which was widespread in the Hellenistic and Late Antique worlds. Other heavenly ascent texts display a similar intertwining of religious experience, revelation of divine secrets, and claims to political authority. And just as there are debates over whether Life of Moses should be labelled ‘mystical’ or ‘theological’, so scholars of heavenly ascent texts argue over whether they reflect ‘experience’ or ‘exegesis’. Stone and Himmelfarb, for example, disagree over whether the pseudepigraphic ascent apocalypses are literary documents or manifestations of visionary activity. This paper will put forward the view that experience and exegesis exist in a dynamic relationship, each informing the other, and that neither is apolitical. What we might think of as distinct, even competing, categories, are found to be mutually reinforcing in heavenly ascent texts. So for Gregory, the high point of an ascent to the divine was the mystery of Christian doctrine; and contact with such holiness was an initiation into responsibility.
This paper explores questions surrounding corporeality and heavenly ascent, in texts ranging from 1 Enoch to the Hekhalot literature, including Philo’s works. It examines both descriptions of the heavenly realms and accounts of the ascent... more
This paper explores questions surrounding corporeality and heavenly ascent, in texts ranging from 1 Enoch to the Hekhalot literature, including Philo’s works. It examines both descriptions of the heavenly realms and accounts of the ascent process. Despite his Platonic apophaticism, Philo superimposes cosmological and spiritual heavens, and draws upon the biblical imagery of dazzling glory. Although they do not express themselves in philosophical language, the heavenly ascent texts make it clear that human beings cannot ascend to heaven in their earthly bodies, and that God cannot be seen with terrestrial eyes. In terms of ideas they are not so far from the philosopher Philo as might at first appear.
As part of his vision of the heavenly tabernacle, disclosed within the darkness of Mount Sinai, Moses is shown the priestly vestments. Gregory interprets these allegorically in terms of ‘an adornment of the soul woven by virtuous... more
As part of his vision of the heavenly tabernacle, disclosed within the darkness of Mount Sinai, Moses is shown the priestly vestments. Gregory interprets these allegorically in terms of ‘an adornment of the soul woven by virtuous pursuits’.  This paper will focus on his characterisation of the blue priestly robe as a light and airy tunic, symbolic of the spiritual, angelic existence to which Christians aspire. It will compare and contrast this interpretation with the tradition of transformational mysticism to be found in heavenly ascent texts, in which the ascending hero dons new garments and is physically transformed. It is not seeking to establish the influence of these texts on Gregory, but to show that a heuristic comparison with them can throw new light on his work. In a wide range of texts, heavenly garments mirror priestly vestments, particularly as regards colour. Gregory is therefore tapping into a widespread tradition. Ascent to the alien environment of heaven, in which terrestrial laws do not apply, requires a new body. The luminosity of the garments of the residents of heaven, whether transformed ascending heroes, the righteous dead or angels, is symbolic of participation in the divine glory. Ascent narratives hold out the hope that for a few exceptional individuals it may be possible to undergo the necessary transformation and ascend to heaven before death. Gregory too urges his readers to don an airy tunic in this life, and uses his sister Macrina as an example. The paper will conclude, however, that Gregory’s emphasis on moral transformation distinguishes him from the heavenly ascent texts. Gregory’s notion of participation in the divine involves the pursuit of true virtue. His ‘transformational mysticism’ is ethical.
According to Jerome, Isaiah should be considered more of an evangelist than a prophet. And the liturgical season of Advent is marked by a series of resonant readings from Isaiah, many of which immediately bring to mind the music of... more
According to Jerome, Isaiah should be considered more of an evangelist than a prophet. And the liturgical season of Advent is marked by a series of resonant readings from Isaiah, many of which immediately bring to mind the music of Handel's Messiah. There is, however, a dark underside of anti-Judaism to the Christian treasuring of Isaiah, which Tyler Mayfield tackles head-on. His aim is to give preachers the skills and confidence to make creative use of the Advent Isaiah readings, 'while also valuing the vibrant faith of Judaism' (p. 2).
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Ephrem, the fourth century Christian Syriac exegete, is known for his paradoxical relationship with Judaism. His biblical commentaries and liturgical poetry contain many parallels with post-biblical Jewish traditions; but he also employs... more
Ephrem, the fourth century Christian Syriac exegete, is known for his paradoxical relationship with Judaism.  His biblical commentaries and liturgical poetry contain many parallels with post-biblical Jewish traditions; but he also employs virulent anti-Jewish rhetoric, talking of ‘the People whose hands are covered in blood’.  Scholars often note that our fiercest arguments are with those closest to us.  It is assumed that Syriac Christianity was closer to Judaism than its Greek counterpart, and therefore that the ‘parting’ was all the more violent.  Is this assumption justified, and is it possible to delve a little deeper?
Recent scholarship emphasises that Ephrem did not inhabit a cultural backwater, but was fully engaged in the complexities of fourth century theological battles.  He lived in places where Jews and Christians interacted socially; but this paper argues that the content of his anti-Judaism is not a function of social reality.  It is an outworking of theological themes already present in the New Testament.  The virulence with which they are expressed, however, may be a result of the dissonance between Ephrem’s theological conclusions and his congregation’s experience of their Jewish neighbours.  It is certainly heightened by Ephrem’s gift for arresting poetic imagery.  He was transfixed by the possibility of a Christian emperor ruling over a Christian empire.  Jews, by remaining faithful to their ancestral traditions, refusing to concede that their covenant with the God of Israel had been annulled, and insisting on a different framework for interpreting scripture, threatened his conviction of Christian universalism.