Forgery and Counterforgery: The Use of Literary Deceit in Early Christian Polemics (107 page)

From the outset of the critical investigation, it was believed that the passages in question (“certain adulterous matter”) were Arian, a view that dominated until the pivotal investigations of F. Funk, who argued that the author was in fact orthodox, with Apollinarian tendencies.
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One upshot was that the text in its final form would likely date later than normally understood, sometime in the fifth century. Funk’s view was in turn attacked by C. H. Turner, who pushed for the traditional view that the author/editor was Arian,
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a view supported in the next generation with additional argumentation by Bernard Capelle.
⁵⁶
Later still, in 1972, Georg
Wagner claimed specifically that the author was a neo-Arian of the Eunomian type, that in fact Eunomius was the possible author.
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A different approach to studying the theological comments of the author/redactor involved making a more precise identification by associating him with other writings from the same period. In particular it had been argued as far back as James Ussher in 1644 that the author of the Apostolic Constitutions also forged the Pseudo-Ignatian letters.
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Objections were raised to the identification over the years, but the view was put on firmer ground by the great Harnack.
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The conclusion was made even more certain by Dieter Hagedorn, who, in a 1973 edition of a late-fourth-century Arian commentary on the book of Job, explored thirty-five points of contact that it shared with the Apostolic Constitutions.
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On some occasions, in dealing with the same topics, the two works use precisely the same somewhat unusual phrases. Hagedorn pointed to three explanations that could be adduced for these parallels: the two (different) authors used the same source; or one of them edited the work of the other; or they were the same person. He went on to argue that the final option was most plausible.
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One significant result of this conclusion is that the author of the Job commentary actually identifies himself. He was named Julian. Whoever Julian was, he also compiled the Apostolic Constitutions and forged the Pseudo-Ignatian letters. And from the Job commentary there can be little doubt about his theological views. He was, in Hagedorn’s view, strongly “Arian.”
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At the same time, it should be stressed that the inability of scholars to mount a compelling and definitive demonstration of the theological tendencies of the Apostolic Constitutions themselves, based simply on the surviving text, shows that the author—probably Julian—did not have a distinctively theological agenda to promote in this particular writing, even though his theological views may have crept into the text at points. That is to say, he forged this writing—it is a redactional forgery—for reasons other than theology. This too is the conclusion of Marcel Metzger, editor of the three-volume edition for the Sources Chrétienne.
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Metzger’s reasoning is compelling. The compiler of the work prefers to use biblical rather than philosophical terminology: terms such as
and their adjectives are missing from the account, as are the terms typically used in the Trinitarian controversies, such as
etc. Moreover, the author leaves out all incontestably “Arian” theological terms and phrases, and does not provide any trace of a polemic against Nicene orthodoxy. These linguistic facts are hard to explain if the writing was, in fact, meant to serve as a piece of Arian propaganda. Instead, the polemical emphasis, in Metzger’s opinion, resides in what we earlier considered, an attack on Judaism and Jewish Christianity, or more specifically against views such as those found in the Pseudo-Clementines. In Metzger’s opinion, the theology of the book, when examined in se, is simply some form of late Origenism.
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This view did not go down well with reviewers who had difficulty believing that an Arian might well be interested in discussing something other than Christology—such as church liturgy, church offices, and church discipline. And so, T. Kopecek complains that Metzger devotes only thirty pages of his introduction to a discussion of the theology of the Apostolic Constitutions, but twice as many to an account of its institutional and liturgical descriptions.
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In response it might be pointed out that this is, after all, what the book is: a church order, not a theological treatise.

If Julian did not forge the Apostolic Constitutions as an “Arian” apologia, why did he stress his alleged apostolic credentials—far more than his most extensive source, the forged Didascalia, let alone the anonymous Didache and the Apostolic Tradition? The obvious response is that he wants to stress that his views about church structure and administration come with direct apostolic authority: “When ye have learned this constitution from us, ye who are ordained bishops by us at the command of Christ, may perform all things according to the commands delivered you, knowing that he that heareth us heareth Christ, and he that heareth Christ heareth His God and Father” (8.3.2). It is hard to appeal to greater authority than that.

In a sense Julian takes the matter further than his predecessors. As seen, a book like the Didascalia uses Scripture to support its own apostolic claims, showing that the apostles who produced the sacred texts are now speaking with an equally authoritative voice in this text. Julian, on the other hand, has the apostles declare that his own book is Scripture. As seen at the climax, in canon 85 (8.47), the Apostolic Constitutions itself is one of the books of the New Testament, as are the two books produced by its carrier and authenticator, Clement of Rome. Moreover, by warning its readers against the “spurious books of the ungodly” on two occasions (6.16.1, 8.47.60), the author assures his readers that even though there may be forged books in the names of the apostles out
there, this is not one of them. This one, indeed, comes from the apostles themselves. “The warning against pseudepigraphal writings that appears twice in the Apostolic Constitution should be considered the strongest argument in favor of its authenticity.”
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The Apostolic Church Orders was first published in 1692 by J. Leutholf, from the Ethiopic, with a Latin translation, in
Iobi Ludolfi (alias Leutholf dicti) ad suam Historiam Aethiopicam antehac editam Commentarius
.
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J. W. Bickell published the Greek text, with German translation, 150 years later.
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The most recent edition is by Alistair Stewart-Sykes.
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Although, as Steimer indicates, there is a broad consensus that locates the Apostolic Church Orders to the first part of the fourth century,
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the consensus has been challenged by Stewart-Sykes, who argues that the nature of the polemic suggests a date (of the final redaction) a century earlier: “200–235 would be a reasonable suggestion.”
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The work is a composite text consisting of a two-ways teaching similar to that found in the Didache, but placed on the pens of the twelve apostles (
chs. 1
–
15
),
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followed by a brief church order that deals with the appointment, qualifications, and duties of church officers (bishop, presbyters, readers, deacons, widows), as well as of laity and women (
chs. 16
–30), also given in first-person narrative by the apostles.
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Stewart-Sykes, as is his wont, provides a complex source and redactional analysis. An earlier influential assessment of sources was made by Adolf Harnack.
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The forger opens his account by making an apostolic claim: “In accordance with the command of our Lord Jesus Christ the Savior we gathered ourselves together as he laid down for us” (
ch. 1
).
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The first-person narrative recurs throughout the text until the end: “Peter said: ‘Brothers, we do not command these things as those who have the power to compel, but as having a command from the Lord’” (ch. 30). Several oddities have frequently been noted in the list of apostolic names given in the Preface: both Cephas and Peter appear, as do both Nathaniel and Bartholomew. Moreover, even though twelve names are listed, only eleven apostles are given speaking roles in what follows. The exception is Jude the son of James. Stewart-Sykes follows T. Schermann in thinking Jude was a late addition to the text by a final redactor.
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The only real polemic of the text appears in the strong emphasis placed on the minimal role to be filled by women in the church. Apart from the laity in general, they are the only group discussed that is not to be involved with church offices, and the restrictions placed on them are made quite plain. The discussion begins in chapter 24 with Andrew urging the apostles “to establish ministry for the women.” Peter suggests they consider the eucharist (ch. 25) and John points out that at the Last Supper, Jesus “did not permit the women to stand alongside of us.” Martha had said it was because Jesus had seen Mary smiling, but Mary indicates that she did not, in fact, laugh. Instead, Jesus had previously said “that the weak would be saved through the strong” (ch. 26). Cephas states that women are to pray sitting on the ground, instead of standing—possibly in order to differentiate them from the men (ch. 27).
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James concludes that the only ministry women can have is “the ministry of supporting women in need” (ch. 28).
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Although the discussion is not extensive—the treatise itself is quite short—it does appear that the work, like the Didascalia, is concerned to restrict carefully what women can do in liturgical service. Unlike the Didascalia, there is no office of widow or deaconess here. Possibly this text is earlier. It is certainly less detailed. Stewart-Sykes argues that the injunctions concerning women in chapters 24–28 were added by a final redactor to a previously existing church order, with one purpose: “The whole point of the discussion is to subordinate women’s ministry, and in particular to legislate against women’s participation in the celebration of the eucharist.”
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