Forgery and Counterforgery: The Use of Literary Deceit in Early Christian Polemics (85 page)

Yet more interesting, from about the time of the Pseudo-Clementine
Homilies
, the Apostolic Constitutions indicates that the first bishop of Rome was Linus, who was ordained by Paul, and that the second was Clement, ordained by Peter (7.46). Does this reflect an early conflict found among factions in Rome, where some claimed that Paul was the one responsible for establishing the line of bishops and others claiming that it was Peter? Were there divisions in Rome comparable to what are earlier attested for Corinth (“I am of Paul, I am of Apollos, I am of Cephas”; 1 Cor. 1:12)? If so, it is no mystery which side of the debate eventually won out, as the less-than-conciliatory view represented in the forged Epistula Clementis became dominant: Peter founded the church and appointed his own successor, thus beginning the Roman apostolic line traced back to the chief disciple himself.

At every point, there were conciliatory voices, which cannot, however, agree among themselves about how to effect the conciliation. For some, both apostles appointed Linus; for others, Peter appointed Clement, Paul’s companion; for others Paul appointed the first successor and Peter the second. Conciliation between the two apostles is found in other literature as well, including the forged pro-Pauline documents we have considered so far and the even more famous letter of 1 Clement, falsely attributed, not by accident, to Clement of Rome, but in fact written by the Roman church precisely to the church of Corinth, earlier divided along apostolic lines (1 Cor. 1:12), in which Peter and Paul are jointly portrayed as the two great apostles of the earlier generation (1 Clement 5).

It would be a mistake, however, to see the Epistula Clementis as being principally concerned with establishing a polemical position against Paul. The vast bulk of the letter is an early church order, with instructions and exhortations to the
bishops, presbyters, deacons, and catechists of the church, and an extended analogy of the church as a ship with different crew members sailing over the rough seas of life. Moreover, the letter is set up to be an introduction to the Clementine
Homilies
. But in another sense the “set up” is precisely the point, as the
Homilies
too imagine a real threat from within, associated to some extent, at least with Paul. Here too is a forgery that, in part, attacks Paul’s views with the authority of Peter and, by implication, James, as mediated through Clement, bishop of the church of Rome and the one who was ordained to his position through Peter, the one who had been given the power to bind and to loose.

The Pseudo-Clementine
Recognitions
and
Homilies
represent two reworkings of an earlier Christian novel that described, principally, the conversion of the Roman Clement to the Christian faith through the ministration of the apostle Peter, and the proclamations and missionary adventures of the two afterward. The novel itself—the so-called Grundschrift—was probably composed in the early third century; its two surviving, heavily modified, iterations appear to stem from fourth-century Syria.
⁶³
Both the
Recognitions
and
Homilies
are forged in the name of Clement himself; the former begins with the claim “I Clement, who was born in the city of Rome was from my earliest age a lover of chastity” (1.1), and goes from there. The
Homilies
begin similarly.
⁶⁴

Until recent years, the overwhelming concern of scholarship on the Pseudo-Clementines involved the vexed question of sources and of sources behind the sources: their extent, literary character, theological views, polemical targets, and dates. Few problems in early Christian studies have proved more intractable and convoluted. Since my interests in the present study are not with hypothetical sources that may have been forged, but with surviving texts, I will not delve into the source questions and the detailed arguments that have generated the
opinio
communis
that has more or less emerged here in the twenty-first century, except to say that the Grundschrift is widely thought to have been a Jewish-Christian production that, in part at least, represented a polemic against Marcionite understandings of the faith,
⁶⁵
and that the source behind
Recognitions
1.27–71 is widely taken to have been an attempt to rewrite, in some sense, the Christian history presented in the book of Acts, about which I will have more to say later.
⁶⁶

More recent scholarship, particularly in the insightful work of Nicole Kelley and Annette Yoshiko Reed, has bypassed the question of sources and approached the Pseudo-Clementines in their final form, asking what they can tell us about the social and theological conflicts within Christianity at the time and place of their production, fourth-century Syria.
⁶⁷
These sophisticated analyses are relevant to such matters as the production and promotion of (some kind of) “Jewish Christianity” and the subtle polemics against unnamed opponents. For the present, however, I am principally interested in the several passages—incorporated, it appears, from earlier sources—that reflect opposition to Paul. In two of these passages the ostensible target is Simon Magus, Peter’s nemesis on the missionary trail throughout the narratives. Scholars have long recognized that in some instances Simon is a cipher for Paul himself. This does not mean that in every episode involving Simon one should think of Paul. Quite the contrary, scholars such as Mark Edwards and, especially, Dominique Côté have shown that Simon is not a simple, coded figure, standing necessarily for Paul, his later follower Marcion, or even Simon Magus himself. He is a composite
figure encompassing the bad features of all these persons, and more.
⁶⁸
It is nonetheless equally clear that in some of the polemic against Simon we are seeing polemic against Paul.

The one place where Paul is clearly in view and under attack, but not under the cipher of Simon, is in
Recognitions
1.66–71. This is the concluding episode of the first instruction given to Clement by Peter, and as just noted, is widely taken to have been drawn from an earlier source that comprises 1.27–71, to be discussed as a whole later.
⁶⁹
The instruction traces the history of God’s interaction with humans from the creation of the world down to Clement’s own day. In his speech Peter predicts that the Jerusalem Temple would be destroyed because the “time of sacrifices” has “passed away” with the coming of Jesus.
⁷⁰
The Jewish sacrificial system, established by Moses as a compromising and temporary measure, has now been surpassed. This declaration causes an uproar among the Jewish priests, who are calmed by Gamaliel, called “a chief of the people,” even though in fact he is portrayed as a secret Christian. Gamaliel promises that a public debate will be held on the next day to “oppose and clearly confute every error.” His Jewish listeners assume that he means to confute the Christians, though in fact, as a secret follower of Jesus himself, he evidently plans to vindicate the Christian cause.

Gamaliel comes the next day to the scene of the debate with James, “the chief of the bishops,” who enters into a public discussion with the chief priest Caiaphas. On the basis of arguments taken from the Jewish Scriptures, James shows that two advents of the Christ were foretold, one in humility and one in glory, and argues that no one could receive the remission of sins or enter the kingdom of heaven without being baptized in water “in the name of the threefold blessedness, as the true Prophet taught.” James, as it turns out, is remarkably successful in his proclamation, such that over the course of seven days “he persuaded all the people and the high priest that they should hasten straightway to receive baptism.” In other words, the entire Jewish nation, including its priestly leaders, are on the verge of converting to become followers of Jesus.

And then Paul arrives on the scene (ch. 70). He is not named, but it is quite clearly him: he is described as “one of our enemies” and in the next chapter he receives letters from the high priest to persecute the believers in Jesus in Damascus, an obvious reference to Acts 9. Just as the Jewish nation is about to turn to faith in
Jesus, Paul intervenes and creates a ruckus, argues publicly with James, and begins “to excite the people and to raise a tumult” and “to drive all into confusion with shouting and to undo what had been arranged with much labor.” He then turns to violence, starts a riot so that “much blood was shed,” and himself “attacked James and threw him headlong from the top of the steps” of the Temple, thinking that he had killed him (1.70).

This is obviously not a positive portrayal of Paul. He is the enemy; he is violently opposed to James—tries, in fact, to kill him. He prevents the wild success of the Christian mission, which was on the verge of converting the entire Jewish nation, even the high priest, to faith in Christ. This, to be sure, is the “pre-Christian” Paul. But there is no word anywhere in the book of his repenting of what he did or converting. For the
Recognitions
, penned in the name of Clement, the eventual leader of the church in Rome and Peter’s right-hand man, Paul remains the enemy.

Anti-Pauline polemic may also lie behind the famous discussion of the divinely ordained “pairs” (syzygies) in Hom. 2.15–18. In this address to Clement Peter provides a kind of schematized
Heilsgeschichte
, according to which God sends forth all things, including human beings, in pairs, with the inferior and the wicked preceding the superior and the good. And so, the temporary world precedes eternity; ignorance precedes knowledge. So too with “the leaders of prophecy”: the wicked Cain came before the righteous Abel, Ishmael preceded Isaac. Peter then applies the logic to his own situation:

It were possible, following this order, to perceive to what series Simon (Magus) belongs, who came before me (Simon Peter) to the Gentiles, and to which I belong who have come after him, and have come in upon him as light upon darkness, as knowledge upon ignorance, as healing upon disease. (ch. 17)

Later Peter points out that the Anti-Christ comes before Christ returns. And so on.

As earlier noted, Simon Magus is not simply a cipher for Paul throughout Peter’s discourses. But one cannot help but draw the inferences in this case, as it is Paul in the Christian tradition who first goes out in the gentile mission field as the apostle to the gentiles.
⁷¹
In this understanding of things, Peter must follow in Paul’s footsteps to correct those he has led astray.
⁷²

A much clearer polemic against Paul occurs in
Homilies
17.13–19, an attack by Peter on “Simon’s” authorization to preach his version of the gospel based on an alleged vision of Christ. As Graham Stanton has recognized, in this case “there can be no doubt at all that behind the mask of Simon Magus stands Paul.”
⁷³
Among other things, as Stanton notes, whereas the authenticating visionary experience is widely associated with Paul (cf. Galatians 1–2; Acts 9), in the Pseudo-Clementines Simon Magus never (elsewhere) appeals to a vision of Jesus.

The scene begins with Simon objecting to Peter’s claims about Jesus. He, Simon, has had a vision, and since visions come from God, one need not question their reliability. Peter, however, gets the upper hand in his reply. The one “who trusts to apparition or vision and dream is insecure. For he does not know to whom he is trusting. For it is possible either that he may be an evil demon or a deceptive spirit, pretending in his speeches to be what he is not” (
ch. 14
). Moreover, no one can question or converse with a vision, only with a living person. Indeed, it is evil demons who appear to the impious enemies of God. What is more: “Statements of wrath are made through visions and dreams, but the statements to a friend are made face to face … not through riddles and visions and dreams, as to an enemy” (ch. 18). Peter then draws his conclusion: “If, then, our Jesus appeared to you in a vision, made Himself known to you, and spoke to you, it was as one who is enraged with an adversary.”

Simon’s alleged vision contrasts with Peter’s own interaction with Jesus: “But can anyone be rendered fit for instruction through apparitions? And if you say, ‘It is possible,’ then I ask, ‘why did our teacher abide and discourse a whole year to those who were awake?’” (ch. 19). Peter then issues a challenge:

But if you were seen and taught by Him, and became His apostle for a single hour, proclaim His utterances, interpret His sayings, love His apostles, contend not with me who accompanied Him. For in direct opposition to me, who am a firm rock, the foundation of the Church, you now stand. If you were not opposed to me, you would not accuse me, and revile the truth proclaimed by me. (ch. 19)

Here we see the real issue: it is a conflict between Peter, the firm rock, and the apostle Paul, the unstable visionary, who uttered a contrary proclamation on the basis of an alleged revelation, and in so doing stood opposed to the one who spent an entire year in the presence of Jesus and was chosen by him to serve as the foundation of the church. As Stanton points out, that the author has the conflict of Peter and Paul clearly in mind is shown above all by the verbal links between the passage and the account of the Antioch incident in Gal. 2:11–14. In the
Homilies
Peter claims that Paul stands opposed to Peter
just as
in Gal. 2:11 Paul claims that he stood opposed to Peter (
same verb). And in both cases the opposition is said to be because Peter stood
.
⁷⁴