Archaeology

The James (Ya’akov) Ossuary: The Kalman Interview at the Albright Institute of Archaeological Research in Jerusalem (Video)

6 January 2014

THE JAMES (YA’AKOV) OSSUARY

The broadcast in its original airing may be viewed .

The Ninth Century ‘Moabite Pedestal Inscription’ from King Mesha’s Ataruz: Preliminary Synopsis of an Excavated Epigraphic Text and its Biblical Connections

17 December 2013

Rollston Collating Khirbet Ataruz Moabite Pedestal Inscription.

Rollston Collating Khirbet Ataruz Moabite Pedestal Inscription.

The Ninth Century ‘Moabite Pedestal Inscription’ from King Mesha’s Ataruz: Preliminary Synopsis of an Excavated Epigraphic Text and its Biblical Connections

Christopher A. Rollston
National Endowment for the Humanities Research Scholar
Albright Institute of Archaeological Research, Jerusalem
e-mail: Christopher.Rollston@gmail.com
____

Introduction

The site of Khirbet Ataruz is located in modern Jordan, on the ridge of Jebel Hamida, with Wadi Zarqa Ma‘in to the north and Wadi Wala to the south. Khirbet Ataruz is located some fourteen kilometers to the northwest of Dhiban. The site has been known for some time (e.g., Glueck 1939; Schottroff 1966; Timm 1980; Niemann 1985), but Chang-Ho Ji is the first to conduct full scale excavations at the site (Ji 2012). During the process of these ongoing excavations, Ji discovered a pedestal (arguably of an incense altar) with an inscription on it (cf. the inscribed incense altar from Mudeyineh, Dion and Daviau 2000). Significantly, the archaeological context for this inscription from Ataruz was an Iron Age II Temple, with a striking assemblage of cultic objects (Ji 2012; cf. also Finkelstein and Lipschits 2010; Finkelstein and Lipschits 2011).

Shortly after the initial discovery, Chang-Ho Ji requested that I analyze and publish the inscription and I accepted this gracious invitation. Moreover, because of the complex nature of this inscribed pedestal, particularly, the presence of several sets of hieratic numerals, I have since brought Stefan Wimmer and P.Kyle McCarter in to assist with the publication. The editio princeps will be completed during 2014, co-authored by the three of us, with formal publication probably appearing during late 2014 or early 2015 (e.g., ADAJ and also something such as Levant, ZDPV, BASOR, or Maarav). This preliminary synopsis, however, is something I have written, based primarily on the document that I previously submitted to the Department of Antiquities of Jordan when I agreed to publish it. I wish to express again my gratitude to the Department of Antiquities of Jordan and to Excavator Chang-Ho Ji for permission to publish it.

Prologue to the Discussion of the Ataruz Moabite Pedestal Inscription: The Mesha Stele and the Bible

The Moabite site of Atarot (Ataruz) is prominently mentioned in the Mesha Stele, along with several additional sites (Dearman 1989). Namely, after four lines of introductory material (including reference to King Mesha’s dedication in Qarḥoh of a high place for Kemosh, the national God of Moab; cf. 1 Kgs 11:7), King Mesha, son of King Kemoshyat, states that because Kemosh was angry with his land (Moab), he (Kemosh) gave the land of Moab into the hand of King Omri of Israel (r. 876-869). Mesha then continues, noting that Omri’s son (bn) succeeded him (Omri) and wished to continue to maintain hegemony over Moab, but Mesha rebelled. Several sites are selected for particular emphasis in this section of the Mesha Stele, notably Madaba, Atarot, Nebo, and Yahaṣ. Regarding the land of Madaba, Mesha states that “Omri had taken possession of all [the land] of Madaba, and he dwelt in it during his days and half of the days of his son, (around) forty years. But Kemosh returned it in my days.” Regarding the land of Atarot, Mesha states that “Now the people of Gad had dwelt in the region of Atarot for a long time, as the king of Israel had built Atarot for them [cf. Num 32]. But I fought against the city and I took it and I killed all the people of the city, (as) it was for Kemosh and for Moab. And I brought back from there the altar hearth…and I [drag]ged it before Kemosh in Qiryat. And I settled the Sharonites and the Maḥarites in it.” At that point, the narrative continues with Mesha’s conquest of Nebo, including its “seven thousand [Israelite] warriors, as well as male sojourners (grn), women, female sojourners, and young maidens.” All of these Mesha, “devoted to ‘Aštar of Kemosh.” Moreover, Mesha took from Nebo “the vessels of Yahweh and dragged them before Kemosh.” Regarding Yahaṣ, Mesha states that “Now the King of Israel had built Yahaṣ and he dwelt in it while he was fighting against me. But Kemosh drove him out from before me”(Rollston 2015). Much of the remainder of the Mesha Stele is devoted to the public works of King Mesha of Moab, coming on the heels of his military successes against the Northern Kingdom of Israel.

It should be remembered that the language of the Mesha Stele is Moabite, with the consistent use of the nun throughout this inscription to mark the masculine plural, thus, distinguishing the Moabite language from the Old Hebrew language (and also from Phoenician, etc.). Furthermore, the phonology of the Mesha Stele distinguishes it from the Aramaic language and from the Deir Alla Dialect (Garr 1985; Huehnergard 1989). That is, the Mesha Stele is written in the Moabite language and this is not something that can be disputed on linguistic grounds (pace Segert 1961).

Within the Hebrew Bible, there is a similar account of Omride hegemony over Moab and Mesha’s subsequent rebellion, with reference to (an annual) tribute from Moab to Israel of 100,000 lambs and the wool of 100,000 rams (2 Kgs 3:4-27). The Israelite account in Kings and the Moabite account in the Mesha Stele are different in some respects, though. (1) For example, the Israelite account states that Mesha rebelled after the death of King Ahab of Israel (r. 869-850 BCE), namely, during the reign of Ahab’s son, King Jehoram of Israel (r. 849-842 BCE), the brief reign of King Ahaziah of Israel (r. 850-849 BCE) not part of the equation. The Moabite account, however, suggests that this rebellion occurred after Omri’s death and, thus, during the time of Omri’s son (Ahab). (2) Furthermore, the Israelite account in Kings states that King Jehoram of Israel was successful in crushing the rebellion of Mesha (but with the human sacrifice of his [Mesha's] son and the ensuing wrath of Yahweh or Kemosh precipitating an Israelite military withdrawal). However, the Moabite account in the Mesha Stele declares that Mesha was very successful in the rebellion against Israel and won major victories against Israel, regaining lost Moabite territory, and even gaining new territory. (1) The first difference (i.e., son of Omri in the Mesha Stele over against son of Ahab in Kings) is not necessarily much of a tension because the term “son” could be used in a broader sense to refer to a son or grandson of Omri (cf. also Rollston 2010, 52-55). Nevertheless, it is also possible that there is a real tension and that the Israelite account or the Moabite account got it wrong. (2) The second difference (the Israelite account claiming victory over Moab and the Moabite account claiming victory over Israel) could be understood as a demonstration of the fact that in the ancient Near East kings preferred to proclaim victories, regardless of the precise facts and actual outcomes. Note, for example, that both Ramesses II and the Muwatalli II claimed victory against the other in the Battle of Kadesh in 1274 BCE. Conversely, it could be that the Moabite account and the Israelite account are of different military episodes or different victories in the longer conflict. It should also be mentioned here that the events described in the Israelite account would be dated to ca. 849 BCE (i.e., the time when Jehoram was on the throne of Israel and Jehoshaphat was on the throne of Judah).

Finally, it should also be emphasized that the repeated campaigns of King Shalmaneser III (r. 859-825 BCE) of Assyria into the Levant during the middle of the 9th century (cf. Kurukh Monolith, Black Obelisk) arguably provided the Moabites with some relief from Israelite hegemony, probably contributing to some of Mesha’s military successes and public works. Of course, the Aramaic (Tel Dan; Biran and Naveh 1995) and Hebrew (2 Kings 8-9; cf. 1 Kgs 19:17) narratives about the deaths of King Jehoram of Israel and King Ahaziah of Judah around 842 BCE (and thus the usurpations of King Jehu of Israel and Hazael of Damascus) are also part of the broader tableau as well.

The Tell Ataruz Moabite Pedestal Inscription

The inscribed pedestal contains seven lines of text incised into the stone (of the pedestal). Four lines of the inscription are written along the vertical axis and three lines are written along the horizontal axis. This inscription was not written by one hand. The inscription is abraded in some places. Based on the morphology, stance, and ductus of the script, I date the writing comfortably to the 9th century BCE. It would be most difficult to date the script of this pedestal to the 8th century. After conveying my palaeographic date of this inscribed pedestal to Ji, he indicated to me that he dated the temple and its associated finds to the 9th century as well. Also of substantial import, Finkelstein and Lipschits also have indicated that the architecture of this component of this site dates to the 9th century (2010; 2011), and they have indicated to me (personal conversation) that the pottery and objects can be dated to this chronological horizon as well.

It should be emphasized that during the 9th century BCE, the script used to write inscriptions in the Moabite language was the Old Hebrew script, arguably a fact related to the hegemony of Northern Kingdom of Israel during the Omride period (Naveh 1987, 65; Rollston 2010, 54). Of course, this hegemony is something that King Mesha of Moab discusses in his stele. Nevertheless, the Moabite script developed further during succeeding chronological horizons into an independent national script, that is, the distinctive Moabite national script, something demonstrated very nicely by the script of the Mudeyineh Incense Altar Inscription (Dion and Daviau 2000; Rollston 2010, 62-63).

The Khirbet Ataruz Moabite Pedestal Inscription is written in the Moabite language. The linguistic markers in the Ataruz inscription correspond with those of the Mesha Stele. Most prominently and importantly, the masculine plural marker used in the Ataruz inscription is the nun, rather than the mem of Phoenician and Hebrew (and congeners). The fact that this inscription is written in the Moabite language is not surprising, based on the location of this site and the historical details about this site that are contained in the Mesha Stele (namely, Mesha of Moab conquered this territory, establishing Moabite hegemony). Of substantial importance in this inscription is the presence of some rather impressive hieratic numerals, some of which are particularly high in numeric value (in the thousands). Word dividers do occur in this inscription, as expected, but not with absolute consistency (this too is quite customary).

The structure of the initial line of the inscription is a hieratic numeral, followed by /mn/ and then an additional lexeme. A similar structure is present in line three and arguably (a truncated version) in line two as well. There are a finite number of possibilities for the semantic domains of the words that are present, but the brevity of the inscription does complicate the matter. In any case, the structure is numeric + mn + lexeme. Because this inscription was found in a temple context, I believe that it is reasonable to propose that the numeric refers to the amount of a commodity offered. The word /mn/ is arguably the prepositional morpheme “from” (I am less inclined to think that it is a reference to a “mina,” that is, a unit of measure). The prepositional /mn/ does not occur in all cases (it is clearly present in lines one and three). The lexeme following /mn/ can be understood to refer to the source of the offering. It is plausible to understand the source (i.e., the lexeme after the word “from”) as a person, a category of persons, a place (and there is some semantic bleeding and overlap with regard to these enumerated categories). In any case, the first line seems paradigmatic in this respect. The hieratic numeral is followed by “from” (mn) and after the word divider the consonants present are /‘brn/, with nun the masculine plural marker in Moabite. The lexeme after /mn/ in the first line could refer, for example, to a category of people “those across” (e.g., a wadi, or some geographic feature or territory), or a people group (e.g., “Hebrews”), or something such as an eponymous ancestor of a clan. Lexical and textual support can be found for all of these (e.g., Deut 32:49; Num 27:12 for the mountainous district in northwestern Moab and associated with Nebo; a Gadite chief mentioned in 1 Chr 5:13; and the common gentilic “Hebrews” attested in the Pentateuch, Deuteronomistic Literature, and the Prophets). As for the second line, there is a hieratic numeral and then the consonants /grn/, with nun arguably as the masculine plural marker (although /grn/ “threshing floor” must also be considered). It should be mentioned that /prn/ is also a possible reading (palaeographically), which could, of course, refer to a category of offering, “bull” or the like. I should note that reading a dalet here (instead of a resh) is not really plausible. The absence of the /mn/ “from” in such a terse text as this does not necessitate the supposition that the structure of this line is entirely different from the first line and third line, but that possibility must be considered. The fact that /grn/ (“sojourners”) occurs in the Mesha Stele is of some importance, of course. Also of import, line two is rather long and arguably contains the lexemes gdl (reading a /p/ for the first letter rather than a /g/ is palaeographically possible; note that I am disinclined to read the second letter as a possible /r/ because of the shortness of the stem) and šlm (with the various lexical possibilities for this sequence of letters, including those with the semantic domain of “pay,” and those with the semantic domain of “peace offering,” etc.). As for the third line, the preposition “from” recurs. The fourth line is difficult, but reasonably legible in the best of the photographs at our disposal. The final three lines of the inscription (or, one could argue, the first three lines of the inscription) are different in terms of formula, and perhaps most interesting mathematically. More precisely, in lines five and six, the formula is: hieratic numerals + /sh/ and /L/, arguably a shortened form of the word for sheqel. The seventh line contains /kl/ and then after this a hieratic numeral as well.

At this juncture, we now have access to additional (and better) photographic images of this important inscription and we will begin working in earnest on this text in the coming months. Kyle McCarter and I have most (probably all, I suppose) of the lexical and syntactic options on the table (not all of which are included here, of course) and Stefan Wimmer has reasonable and cogent readings for the hieratic numerals (and he is also a fine scholar of Northwest Semitic in his own right). Because this inscription hails from the period very shortly after Mesha’s conquest of the site (remember that the inscription is written in the Moabite language, a fairly diagnostic indicator of those controlling the site at the time of the production of the inscription, I believe), the inscription provides useful and important data for attempts to reconstruct the nexus of power in the second half of the 9th century. In addition, this inscription lends credence to the claims Mesha makes in his stele (e.g., his conquering of Atarot, etc.), something that may suggest that the materials in Kings about the victory of Jehoram over Moab were either legendary or short-lived, or about a slightly different chronological horizon. The reflections detailed here will not necessarily be those embraced in the final publication, but they do convey the interpretive contours that have been part of my preliminary reflections and will probably be formative for the final publication.

Basic Bibliography

Biran, Avraham and Naveh, Joseph.
1995 “The Tel Dan Inscription: A New Fragment.” IEJ 45:1-18.

Dearman, Andrew, ed.
1989 Studies in the Mesha Inscription and Moab. Atlanta: Scholars Press.

Dion, Paul E. and Daviau, P.M. Michèle
2000 “An Inscribed Incense Altar of Iron Age II at Ḫirbet el-Mudēyine (Jordan).” ZDPV 116: 1-13.

Finkelstein, Israel and Lipschits, Oded.
2010 “Omride Architecture in Moab: Jahaz and Ataroth.” ZDPV 126: 29-42.

Finkelstein, Israel and Lipschits, Oded.
2011 “The Genesis of Moab: A Proposal.” Levant 43: 139-152.

Garr, Randall.

1985 Dialect Geography of Syria-Palestine, 1000-586 B.C.E. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania.

Huehnergard, John.

1989 Remarks on the Classification of the Northwest Semitic Languages. Pages 282-93 in The Balaam Text from Deir ‘‘Alla Re-evaluated. Proceedings of the International 84 Symposium held at Leiden 21–24 August 1989. Ed. J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij; Leiden: Brill.

Ji, Chang-Ho
2012 “The Early Iron Age II Temple at Khirbet Atarus and Its Architecture and Selected Cult Objects.” Pp. 203-221 and Plates 44-49 in Temple Building and Temple Cult: Architecture and Cultic Paraphernalia of Temples in the Levant (2m-1. Mill. BCE), ed. Jens Kamlah. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.

Naveh, Joseph.
1987 Early History of the Alphabet: An Introduction to West Semitic Epigraphy and Palaeography. 2nd ed. Jerusalem: Magnes.

Niemann, Hermann Michael
1985 “Ein Statuettentorso von der Ḫirbert Aṭārūs.” ZDPV 101: 169-177.

Rollston, Christopher A.
2010 Writing and Literacy in the World of Ancient Israel: Epigraphic
Evidence from the Iron Age. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature.

Rollston, Christopher A.
2015 Northwest Semitic Royal Inscriptions: Writings from the Ancient
World. ed., Theodore Lewis. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature.

Schottroff, Willy.
1965 “Horonaim, Nimrim, Luhith und der Westrand des „Landes Ataroth“:
Ein Beitrag zur historischen Topographie des Landes Moab.” ZDPV 81: 163-208.

Segert, Stanislav
1961 “Die Sprache Der Moabitischen Königsinschrift.” Archiv Orientální:
29: 197-267.

Timm, Stefan
“Die territoriale Ausdehnung des Staates Isael zur Zeit der Omriden.” ZDPV 96: 20-40.

Wimmer, Stefan
2008 Palästinisches Hieratisch die Zahl- und Sonderzeichen in der althebräischen Schrift. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.

LABORATORY TESTING OF ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS: METHODOLOGICAL REFLECTIONS

9 April 2013

LABORATORY TESTING OF ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS:
METHODOLOGICAL REFLECTIONS

Christopher A. Rollston
Visiting Professor of Northwest Semitic Languages and Literatures
George Washington University
Washington, D.C.

INRODUCTION

One of the most auspicious developments in “forgery detection” during recent years has been the development and usage of laboratory methods to attempt to determine deauthenticity. Most welcome, therefore, is the recent report (e.g., the article by Stephanie Pappas on the Huffington Post) which discusses the laboratory tests on the Gospel of Judas. It seems to me that this is very useful and I think that these results bode well for that particular document (especially because National Geographic’s “Standards and Practices” people are among the very best, and they clearly maintained strict protocols with regard to the laboratory analyses of the Gospel of Judas). Moreover, it has also been reported that the “Jesus Wife Papyrus” has been sent off for laboratory tests. I applaud this as well (I should hasten to add, as discussed below, that it would be particularly useful if the actual lab reports, rather than just the results, would be published as well. For example, it would be very useful to see the graphs generated by the spectroscopy).

I would also wish to emphasize at this time, though, that laboratory reports also require an interpreter. Those of us in the humanities sometimes seem to forget this (at least in practice). Here are a few scenarios, most of which are now attested in the laboratory analysis of actual epigraphic objects from the antiquities market (see section II below). Scenario 1: an epigraphic object is sent for analysis and the laboratory finds modern contaminants under the patina. At that point, the hard scientist has to make a decision. She or he could suggest that the piece is a modern forgery. This is entirely rational and I think quite convincing in most cases. However, it would be possible for him or her to propose that the modern contaminants under the patina could be the result of storage and handling practices (and thus they might suggest that the piece is actually ancient). In other words, the hard scientist must make a decision about the best way to understand the laboratory results. Scenario 2: Or again, let us say that someone has a potsherd from the antiquities market with an ink inscription on it and they send it off to a laboratory for thermoluminescence testing. The results for the thermoluminescence test would probably suggest that the pottery was indeed fired in antiquity. The hard scientist might conclude that this inscription is indeed ancient, based on the results of the thermoluminescence testing. However, this could be wrong. After all, a savvy forger would surely use an ancient potsherd and then forge an inscription on it, in a script and language that corresponds very nicely with the region and time period from which the potsherd came. That is, just because the potsherd is ancient doesn’t mean that the inscription is ancient. Scenario 3: Similarly, someone might send a piece of papyrus off for Accelerator Mass Spectrometry testing (an advanced form of carbon dating) in order to determine if the writing on it is ancient. The AMS test might very well indicate that the papyrus is ancient. However, it would not be prudent for a hard scientist automatically to conclude that the text was authentic, as ancient papyrus is something that can be purchased on the antiquities market and a modern forger worth his or her salt would be wise enough to use that as the medium. Scenario 4: Someone might propose that analyzing the ink should be considered decisive. This is difficult, as finding enough carbon in ink is very difficult (i.e., even for an AMS test, which requires less Carbon 14). But someone might suggest that spectroscopic analysis of the ink could be used, so as to determine the chemical composition of the ink. I believe that this could be useful, at least at times. But I would also hasten to add that enough is known now about the production of ink in antiquity (and the chemical makeup of many inks) that a savvy forger could also find some ancient carbonized remains (e.g., a piece of carbonized timber found on an excavation) and use that as the basis for the production of ink that appears ancient indeed, employing also data known about the rest of the chemicals often found in actual ancient inks (e.g., the right amount of iron, etc.).

For these sorts of reasons, I believe that caution should be the modus operandi. Of course, it is often suggested that forgers are not really that gifted, that savvy, and it is also suggested at times that no one who actually had such knowledge and talent would ever produce modern forgeries (i.e., someone that smart would not do it because of ethical reservations about such activities). Actually, I am convinced that the best modern forgers have formidable intellects and abilities and I think that the recent past demonstrates this rather convincingly, as some modern forgers have fooled some very gifted scholars. Moreover, I find it to be sweet that someone would assume that no one capable of producing really good modern forgeries would do so, but I am not convinced that brains and ethics necessarily always go hand in hand. Thus, I continue to be convinced that the future will see epigraphic forgeries that are absolutely undetectable. Indeed, I have already seen some inscriptions (and analyzed them microscopically) that are virtually perfect, from the script and language to the medium and the patina. I suspect that this will only increase in the coming years.

In addition, I must also admit that I think the field of epigraphy should be very careful about determining the credentials for the laboratory and the hard scientists. Not all labs are equal and not all hard scientists are equal. And there is always an interpretive component. Furthermore, I think that it should go without saying that those with a vested interest in the results should have no part in the sending of pieces to laboratories.

The remainder of this blog post focuses on protocols for laboratory testing as well as a discussion of some laboratory tests which have been performed on epigraphic objects during recent years, including some of the problems with some of these tests. Most of the discussion that follows first appeared in print in an article of mine published a decade ago in the journal Maarav (2003) [footnote 1]. In any case, the focus will be on (1) useful protocols for laboratory testing, (2) followed by concrete discussion of lab testing, based on published lab reports (and some of the problems with these). The hope of all this is that the field can continue to become more and more conscious of the need for the employment of strict protocols for laboratory testing and the importance of understanding the interpretive component that is part of laboratory analysis.

I. PROPOSED PROTOCOLS FOR LABORATORY TESTING

Owners, agents of owners, buyers, agents of buyers, dealers of antiquity, and epigraphists are often interested in having laboratory tests performed on non-provenanced epigraphic objects. In addition, these groups are often required to assess the results and significance of laboratory tests. For methodological reasons, I would argue that certain protocols should be adhered to so that the laboratory tests can actually function as valuable tools.

(1) First, laboratories must be demonstrably legitimate institutions, with the capability of performing the appropriate laboratory tests, and with credentialed individuals performing the tests. Because most epigraphists are not au courante with regard to the best scientific laboratories, there is the potential for substandard laboratories to “authenticate” objects without sufficient scientific bases, and for epigraphists to “accept” such results as authoritative. Furthermore, laboratories that have “authenticated” forged objects (e.g., because of incompetence or collusion) are not to be considered the most reliable and authoritative for future tests [footnote 2].

(2) Second, it is prudent for multiple laboratories, performing the same basic tests, on the same objects, to be used; moreover, it is also imperative that said labs do not communicate together regarding the objects. It is preferable for at least two labs to be used, but cases of conflicting results will necessitate the use of additional labs [footnote 3].

(3) It is of fundamental importance that the laboratory tests be double blind. That is, those requesting the test should not know the names of the laboratories or scientists performing the laboratory tests, and the laboratories should not know the names of the owners, potential buyers, dealers, or (ideally) even the name(s) of the epigraphist(s) studying the epigraphs. Laboratory tests that are not double blind are of minimal value, or perhaps of no value at all, because violation of this protocol ultimately compromises the process, either in theory, or in fact [footnote 4].

(4) Generally, no information about the epigraphic object’s potential or probable antiquity (and thus authenticity) should be given. The reason for this is simply that the scientist performing the laboratory tests, if he or she knows the expected or desired results of the test, can factor in various data in particular ways in order to achieve the expected or desired result [footnote 5].

(5) The full report of all tests should be made available in complete form in the formal publication of the inscription. Laboratory tests that violate these protocols, rigorous though the lab tests may appear, are to be considered of modest value, or of no value at all [footnote 6].

(6) With high profile epigraphs or corpora of epigraphs, when it is readily apparent that there are problems with the laboratory tests performed previously, museums, departments of antiquity, and universities will sometimes need to intervene and appoint disinterested specialists to analyze said epigraphs or corpora. Of course, in circumstances such as this it will not be possible for the tests to be double-blind. Nonetheless, it is expected that a full publication of these lab results will be satisfactory [footnote 7].

II.CASE STUDIES OF SELECTED TYPES OF LABORATORY TESTS

Laboratory tests can be of substantial usefulness in “deauthenticating” epigraphic objects [footnote 8]. Because laboratory tests have been widely used in recent years, and because “laboratory authentication” is often considered definitive, the usefulness of laboratory tests, especially the necessary protocols for laboratory tests and the necessary caveats regarding their decisiveness, merits discussion. For the sake of clarity, various specific laboratory analyses will be discussed; however, it should be noted that this discussion is not exhaustive, but rather illustrative. Finally, although I have attempted to make this discussion accessible, it is inevitable that some specialized vocabulary will be used [footnote 9].

A. PATINAS ON MEDIA AND RADIOCARBON DATING OF ORGANIC MATERIALS

The “Moussaieff Ostraca” have been subjected to certain laboratory tests [footnote 10]. The McCrone affirmed that the soil on the ostraca was Middle Eastern and that the chemical composition of the ink was very similar to that of some of the Dead Sea Scrolls. This data is, of course, of limited usefulness, as carbon based ink is not difficult to produce, and the presence of Middle Eastern soil on an object ultimately proves absolutely nothing about the antiquity of an object [footnote 11].

Mikrofokus Oy Lab focused its analysis on a white patina covering the surface of the ostraca. Using a SEM-EDS (i.e., a scanning electron microscope equipped with an EDS), the McCrone lab had determined that there was a micrometeorite or pyrophoric igniter powder (e.g., from a cigarette lighter) contaminating a sample. Moreover, Mikrofokus Oy affirmed the presence of “spherical particles found which seem to be inside the lower layer of the white material” (i.e., under the patina). The lab then noted that the particles were composed of silicon, and that they were identical in form, size, and chemical composition to those commonly found among flyash particles in industrial environments. Mikrofokus Oy suggested that these were indeed modern contaminants, but ultimately proposed that such particles need not mean that the ostraca were forgeries, even though they were found under the patina. Variable handling and storage practices were assumed to be the cause of this anomaly. Moreover, because producing such a patina today would require a special environment, access to calcite crystals of the right size, specialized knowledge, and a long time, (e.g., “years”), the lab concluded that the patina on the ostraca was a natural precipitation product, and that “what is under the white material must then be genuine.” Note that the Mikrofokus Oy lab, however, was able to duplicate the patina on the ostraca quite closely, using sodium silicate, calcium carbonate, and water.

Obviously, Mikrofokus Oy’s interpretation is a possible interpretation of the data generated by their SEM-EDS test, but it is my opinion that this test does not actually generate much confidence. That is, a number of their interpretations of these test results are potentially troubling. For example, the modern contaminants under the patina could justifiably be understood as being there because the patina was produced during the modern period. Indeed, this is perfectly plausible. Also, the Mikrofokus Oy laboratory assumes that the patina is probably not modern because few people have the appropriate chemicals and the ability to produce such a patina. However, within their own report, Mikrofokus Oy stated that they were able to produce a similar patina, within a very short period. The position of Mikrofokus Oy seems to be that if the patina is not easy to reproduce, then it is safe to assume that it was not done in this case on these ostraca. This is not, however, a necessary conclusion, and I would argue that it is not even necessarily a logical conclusion. In short, it is my opinion that although these tests do not necessarily demonstrate that the Moussaieff Ostraca must be disqualified (i.e., considered forgeries), neither is it possible to state in any way that these tests are non-problematic, and authenticate the ostraca.

The Geological Survey of Israel performed SEM-EDS analyses on the patina of the “Ya‘akov Ossuary” [footnote 12] The results showed that the patina is composed mainly of CaC03 (93%) and contains Si – 5.0%; A1 – 0.7%; Fe – 0.3%; P – 0.4%; and Mg – 0.2%. The report notes that there are no modern elements (such as modern pigments), and the patina adheres firmly to the stone. Again, this is valuable information, but it is imperative that one not conclude or assume, on the basis of this evidence, that this entire inscription is ancient. Rather, this test simply demonstrates that this object need not be disqualified on the basis of the chemical composition of the patina. It certainly does not authenticate the patina. Indeed, the report implicitly concedes this point with the words: “no evidence that might detract from the authenticity of the patina and the inscription was found.” This is an important and honest assessment; however, it must be noted that the absence of certain anomalies in the chemical composition of a patina is not the same as a demonstration of the antiquity of a patina [footnote 13].

The Geological Survey of Israel’s official report for the Jehoash Inscription is much more detailed than the one published (initially) for the ossuary, but this official report is replete with some problems, alas [footnote 14]. For example, (1) the report assumes that if the patina on the medium (in this case, stone) essentially “matches” that which is in the grooves of the inscription, the inscription must be ancient. This is problematic, as it is possible to argue that a modern forger had carefully chosen a stone, cleaned it with non-treated water (e.g., water from a pure spring), incised it, and then the stone was buried and a patina “cultivated,” either passively (just letting it develop naturally with the compounds in the soil and rainfall) or actively (i.e., “watering” the soil at times, and adding some “safe” compounds, such as lime, iron, etc.) that might assist in the development of the patina. The result would be a patina on the surface of the rock that reflected a chemical composition that was similar to that of the inscribed area. Of course, Goren has now demonstrated conclusively that the precise patina described by the Geological Survey of Israel could be produced quite readily in a lab [footnote 15]. (2) The Geological Survey of Israel put enormous credence in the fact that within the patina were organic materials that could be dated (on the basis of 14C) to antiquity. Again, this is an interpretation, but because ancient organic materials are readily available on the market (as well as to those associated with excavations), this cannot be considered the interpretation. A clever forger is certainly capable of attempting to dupe a lab technician by augmenting a fabricated patina with some organic material. Moreover, with regard to the Jehoash Inscription in particular, this is now the most convincing interpretation [footnote 16].

During the past fifty years, of course, Carbon 14 tests have indeed been very helpful in assessing the antiquity of organic material at times. For example, Carbon 14 tests (AMS) were performed on various Dead Sea Scrolls, and the results were decisive, demonstrating the antiquity of the scrolls and providing a control on palaeographic analysis [footnote 17]. Moreover, several decades ago, Carbon 14 tests were performed on the “Hebron Documents” and the tests yielded a modern date, a date that has stood, pace Mendenhall [footnote 18]. Nevertheless, several caveats must be kept in mind even with Carbon 14. (1) Variable handling and storage conditions can have an impact on laboratory tests such as Carbon 14. (2) A Carbon 14 test of organic material (e.g., leather, papyrus) does not necessarily demonstrate the antiquity of the inscription, as pieces of ancient leather and papyrus are sometimes found without visible writing, and can be readily used by a modern forger as the “medium” (i.e., material) for a forgery.

B. THERMOLUMINESCENCE TESTING

Thermoluminescence testing is a potentially important means of determining the age of an object that has suffered in some sort of a conflagration. In essence, very high temperatures reset the thermoluminescence “clock.” Hence, fired ceramics (and “burned” bullae) can be subjected to a thermoluminescence test, and an approximate date of firing can be determined. Thermoluminescence testing on non-provenanced objects, however, is generally not nearly as precise as radiocarbon dating, because there are numerous (quite imprecise) variables to calculate. For example, the chemical content of the soil in which an object has been deposited, the proximity of rocks, and even the types of rocks, all impact the thermoluminescence signal. Therefore, non-provenanced objects, and even provenanced objects not accompanied by samples of the soil surrounding the objects, yield only very approximate dates, with a plus or minus of centuries.

Thermoluminescence texts were recently performed on Hebrew bullae that had ostensibly been fired in some sort of conflagration. Namely, during January 1997, a thermoluminescence test on a bulla was performed by Doreen Stoneham at the Research Laboratory for Archaeology and the History of Art in Oxford. The report is important for a number of reasons. For example, it states that the sample was obtained in “powdered form on 8 January 1997” by Doreen Stoneham, and that it was “presumed” to have been taken from a “small fragment of terracotta.” Stoneham concludes that “using standard methods and techniques it is estimated that the material of the sample was “last fired between 1100 and 1800 years ago” and that this is consistent with the “suggested period of manufacture of the object concerned.” The report concludes by noting that the “result is given in good faith; however the laboratory takes no responsibility for financial loss incurred through an erroneous report being given,” that is, with a certain amount of customary legalese [footnote 19]. Obviously, this thermoluminescence test suggests that the “powder” analyzed was ancient [footnote 20].

Ralf Kotalla of the Ralf Kotalla “Laboratory” (the quotation marks are part of the official document’s report) performed a thermoluminescence test on an Iron Age bulla as well. Kotalla’s report states that the bulla was “2700 years old +/- 20% of the overall age,” and even notes that it originated in the “Orient.” In addition, Kotalla notes that the “assumed age on the basis of stylistic characteristics [is] appr. 2700 years” [footnote 21]. These thermoluminescence test results are especially interesting, because Kotalla was told the precise date of this bulla (i.e., based on the script it dates to ca. 700 BCE). For this reason, he was able to factor in numerous variables and produce a date that corresponded perfectly with the desired result. Stoneham’s test yielded an honest result, but Kotalla’s reflects severe bias. Note that I am not necessarily questioning the antiquity of these bullae. Indeed, for “fired” bullae, a thermoluminescence test is potentially helpful [footnote 22].

C. RADIOGRAPHIC ANALYSES

Spectrographic analyses can be very useful as well, for example, in determining the composition of a metal. Two inscribed arrowheads were analyzed at Conservation Laboratory of the Freer Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. several years ago. Based on the script, the arrowheads appeared to derive from the Late Bronze Age. The precise results of the spectrographic analyses were as follows: Arrowhead 1: CU 78.925%; ZN – ; PB 7.166%; FE 1.878%; SN 11.940%; and AS 0.091%. Arrowhead 2: CU 73.731%; ZN 0.035%; PB 5.055%; FE 0.981%; SN 20.198%; and AS – ; The absence of zinc in the first arrowhead and the minimal amount in the second arrowhead is important, since copper alloyed with zinc (brass) is rarely found in ancient artifacts. However, McCarter has astutely noted that the “antiquity of the arrowhead is no guarantee of the antiquity of the inscription,” and he states further that “there is now reason to believe that forged arrowheads have begun to appear on the antiquities market” [footnote 23]. The Freer also subjected these arrowheads to microscopic examination as well, and this revealed that the corrosion on the surface of the blades is also present in the incised grooves of their inscriptions. It has been argued that this “mitigates strongly against the possibility that either inscription is modern” [footnote 24]. I concur that this information is helpful, and I am not questioning the antiquity of the inscriptions on these arrowheads. Nonetheless, I would note that creating a corrosion on the surface of a metal object (either before or after cleaning the object) is not difficult for the right person, with access to the right chemicals [footnote 25].

Ultimately, because some forgers are quite savvy about laboratory tests (and because lab scientists have sometimes failed to consider the skills of forgers and their associates), such tests are often helpful, but cannot normally be considered decisive in determining authenticity. Obviously, laboratory tests can disqualify an inscription, but this is not the same as authentication.

D. ANCIENT TOOLS

At this juncture, I should also like to note another type of problematic data that is used to argue for the antiquity of an inscription, namely, that of the tools employed to produce it. For example, regarding the Ya‘akov Ossuary, it was noted that there were “no signs of the use of a modern tool or instrument found” [footnote 26]. Again, this is useful information, but it could never be considered decisive. A shrewd forger could certainly have used an ancient tool, ancient worked metal, or modern bronze or iron consisting of the same composition as ancient tools, so as to have produced the entire inscription, or a portion thereof. Methodologically, it is simply not sage to assume that a modern forger would not take such precautions. Indeed, I would argue that a good modern forger would definitely take such precautions, for modest precautions yield large dividends.

In sum, the use of laboratory tests for inscriptions from the market is auspicious, but the labs conducting the tests must be vetted, protocols for the testing must be put in place in every case, and the results of the laboratory tests must be fully published so that they can be scrutinized as well. In short, there is much to be hopeful about, but methodological doubt must be maintained as well.

[footnote 1]. Rollston, “Non-Provenanced Epigraphs I: Pillaged Antiquities, Northwest Semitic Forgeries, and Protocols for Laboratory Tests.” MAARAV 10 (2003): 135-193.

[footnote 2]. P. Kyle McCarter, Jr. has suggested (personal communication) that it could be very useful to submit three epigraphs to the labs: the epigraph of interest, another that is definitely a fake, and a third that is definitely ancient. That is, he is suggesting the use of “control groups,” as it were.

[footnote 3]. Note, for example, that excavators routinely send samples of organic materials to multiple (often two) labs. The point is that using multiple labs can function as a “control” of sorts.

[footnote 4]. The point here is that recently owners, dealers, or agents thereof, have been taking objects to the lab of their choice, verbalizing expected results, and paying for the tests. This is hardly the ideal.

[footnote 5]. With regard to this issue, note the problems with the thermoluminescence tests discussed earlier.

[footnote 6]. Note that the initial report on the Ya‘akov Ossuary published by the Geological Survey of Israel did not contain much of the raw data or summaries that are to be expected of a SEM-EDS analysis. See A. Rosenfeld and S. Ilani, “SEM-EDS Analyses of Patina,” 29.

[footnote 7]. In my opinion, the IAA should be applauded for doing precisely this during 2003 (for the Ya‘akov Ossuary and the Jehoash Inscription).

[footnote 8] The (2003) report from the commission convened by the IAA to do laboratory analyses of the Ya‘akov Ossuary and the Jehoash Inscription demonstrates this point. Needless to say, I am not convinced by those who have criticized the conclusions of the IAA committee. Indeed, some of the attempted “rebuttals of the report,” read like apologias. In any case, for a brief, but cautious and sound discussion of laboratory testing, see also N. S. Fox, In the Service of the King, 30-31.

[footnote 9]. For a cursory review of the methods discussed here, see W. Ashmore and R. J. Sharer, Discovering our Past: A Brief Introduction to Archaeology, 3rd ed (New York: McGraw-Hill, 2000), esp. 159-168. For analysis using a scanning electron microscope, see also my discussion: C.A. Rollston, “Laboratory Analysis of the Moussaeff Ostraca using the Scanning Electron Microscope (SEM) with an Energy Dispersive X-Ray Microanalyzer (EDS),” 8.

[footnote 10]. For a summary of the lab reports, see C.A. Rollston, “Laboratory Analysis of the Moussaïeff Ostraca using the Scanning Electron Microscope (SEM) with an Energy Dispersive X-Ray Microanalyzer (EDS),” 8-9.

[footnote 11]. Regarding the composition of the ink of ancient inscriptions, see A. Lewis, “Report on the Lachish Letters with Remarks upon the Use of Iron Inks in Antiquity,” in The Lachish Letters, ed. H. Torczyner (Tur-Sinai), 138-193. Of course, carbon (of various sorts) is often found on excavations. The production of carbon ink that appears ancient (e.g., on a 14C test) should not be problematic in the modern period.

[footnote 12]. A Rosenfeld and S. Ilani, “SEM-EDS Analyses of Patina Samples,” BARev 28 (Nov/Dec 2002): 29.

[footnote 13]. Note that there are various other problems with this report as well. For example, the report states that the gray patina found on the surface of the ossuary was “found also within some of the letters, although the inscription was cleaned and the patina is therefore absent from several letters.” However, there is no statement of precisely which letters had this patina and which lacked it (an important issue for various reasons, but especially because of the suggestion that the second half of the inscription was from a later hand). Of course, forgers can use the issue of “cleaning” to their advantage, in various ways.

[footnote 14]. S. Ilani, A. Rosenfeld, and M. Dvorachek, “A Stone Tablet with an Ancient Hebrew Inscription Attributed to Yehoash, King of Judea: Archaeometry and Epigraphy,” GSI Current Research 13 (2003): 109-13.

[footnote 15]. Y. Goren, “An Alternative Interpretation of the Stone Tablet.”

[footnote 16]. Goren proposed this in his article “An Alternative Interpretation of the Stone Tablet,” 7. E. Boaretto’s final report for the IAA also states that the carbon material in the patina of the Jehoash Inscription does not indicate authenticity.

[footnote 17]. See G. Doudna, “Dating the Scrolls on the Basis of Radiocarbon Analysis,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years, ed. P.W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam (Leiden: Brill, 1998), vol. 1: 430-471.

[footnote 18]. G.E. Mendenhall, “Philistine Documents,” 99.

[footnote 19]. This report is printed in the editio princeps of various non-provenanced inscriptions, namely: R. Deutsch, Messages from the Past: Hebrew Bullae from the Time of Isaiah through the Destruction of the First Temple: Shlomo Moussaieff Collection and an Up to Date Corpus (Tel Aviv: Archaeological Center Publications, 1997), 169. Recently, R. Deutsch also edited a Festschrift in honor of S. Moussaieff, a collector of antiquities, and published a number of additional bullae. See Shlomo: Studies in Epigraphy, Iconography, History, and Archaeology in Honor of Shlomo Moussaieff (Tel Aviv: Archaeological Center Publications, 2003).

[footnote 20]. The date yielded by this test are very broad, and considerably later than might have been expected for an Iron Age bulla. Among the reasons for this are (1) the large number of variables that must be calculated, but cannot be done with precision without data regarding the context in which it was ostensibly found; (2) the theoretical possibility that it suffered a conflagration centuries after its date of manufacture; (3) the theoretical possibility that it has been exposed to some sort of irradiation.

[footnote 21]. For the report, see R. Deutsch, Messages from the Past, 168.

[footnote 22]. I should like to propose that epigraphists and laboratories should anticipate that some forgers may attempt to carve bullae (in relief) from ceramics fired in antiquity, and then to patinate the “epigraph.” Of course, it should be noted that for ostraca, thermoluminescence tests are useless (i.e., a test performed on a fired potsherd) as a forger will find ample sherds in the Middle East upon which to pen his or her logia.

[footnote 23]. P. K. McCarter, Jr., “Two Bronze Arrowheads with Archaic Alphabetic Inscriptions,” in Eretz-Israel 26: Frank Moore Cross Volume, ed. B.A. Levine, et al., (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1999), 126-127.

[footnote 24]. P. K. McCarter, Jr., “Two Bronze Arrowheads,” 127.

[footnote 25]. That is, a forger could take a “blank” ancient bronze arrowhead, prepare the surface, forge an inscription, and then create a corrosion (or some type of patina). David A. Scott, senior scientist at the Getty Conservation Institute, has stated (personal communication) that in this case, “the patina under the inscription would be different than the patina over the rest of the surface.” That is, Scott argues that it would be detectable. However, he affirms that the arrowhead “would have to be cut” (and then it should be possible “to tell by metallography that the inscription was added and not original to the object).” If the arrowhead was not cut, Scott suggests that “it should still be possible” to make determinations regarding the differences in the patinas (and thus the antiquity of the inscription itself), but he stated that one would then “have trouble describing the process easily.” For more data about these subjects, see “D.A. Scott, Copper and Bronze in Art: Corrosion, Colorants, Conservation (Getty Conservation Institute, 2002). Ultimately, the point is that even a corrosion should not automatically be assumed to be indicative of antiquity. Certain types of corrosions can be created; therefore, sophisticated laboratory tests (sometimes destructive) are needed to determine the depth and nature of the corrosion in order to assess the antiquity of the inscription.

[footnote 26]. A. Rosenfeld and S. Ilani, “SEM-EDS Analyses of Patina Samples,” BARev 28 (Nov/Dec 2002): 29.

John the Baptist and the Reliquary of ‘Sveti Ivan’ : Methodological Reflections

15 June 2012

This article is a slightly revised (June 2012) version of a post published here in August 2010, at the time of the initial press release. Fortunately, the most recent press reports (June 2012) are more circumspect and cautious than those of two years ago. Furthermore, please allow me to emphasize here that these excavations are useful and impressive, with some significant archaeological material culture having been excavated. Nevertheless, the conclusion must still be that there is no good evidence to suggest that these bones are probably those of John the Baptist.

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I. Summary of the Salient Details of the ‘Sveti Ivan’ Excavation and the Claims regarding the Reliquary

A portion of a small island known as ‘Sveti Ivan’ (a Bulgarian term that means “Saint John”) has been the site of excavations for a number of years. This island is located in the Black Sea, about a kilometer from the Bulgarian town of Sozopol, one of the oldest on Bulgaria’s southern coast. Kazimir Popkonstantinov is the director of the excavations on Sveti Ivan. Aerial images reveal that there are (at least) two prominent sets of monumental archaeological remains on the island. These have been affirmed to be the remains of: (1) a church of ca. the 6th century CE; (2) and a monastery (and church) of ca. the 13th and 14th centuries CE.

Under the ruins of the 6th century church are the remains of an older basilica, and these older remains have been dated to ca. the 5th century CE. It was in the ruins of this older basilica that a reliquary was found. (1) The reliquary’s measurements are ca. 20.5 cm. x 12.5. cm. x. 14.5 cm. The reliquary is reported to have been made of alabaster. Within this reliquary were found bone fragments (six human bones and three animals bones), and the human bones included portions of a skull, a hand, a tooth, a rib, and an arm bone. (2) Near the reliquary was a small sandstone box measuring ca. 4 cm. x 6 cm. On this small sandstone box is a Greek inscription that reportedly says “May God save you, servant Thomas. To Saint John, June 24.”

Popkonstantinov had stated (in 2010) that the inscription is the “key” to the interpretation of the finds. That is, based on this inscription, he has stated that the remains found in the alabaster reliquary may very well be those of John the Baptist, a figure of the Greek New Testament.

II. Summary of the Salient Features of the Greek New Testament’s Statements regarding John the Baptist

Although New Testament scholarship has cogently argued for more than a century that the New Testament documents are not historical in all of their details, it has been argued convincingly that certain things can be known about John the Baptist with a high degree of historical certainty. Namely, (1) He was a Jewish Apocalypticist of the 1st century CE; (2) He was connected in some fashion with a movement surrounding Jesus of Nazareth; (3) John the Baptist was imprisoned in the Galilee by Herod Antipas (note: Herod was the Tetrarch of Galilee and Perea from ca. 4 BCE to ca. 39 CE). (4) John was martyred by Herod Antipas, arguably some time between 26 CE and 30 CE. (5) John had followers (referred to in Greek as mathetai) and these followers buried John the Baptist after he was killed, arguably (according to the Marcan tradition), in a tomb (for these details, see Mark 6:14-29; Matt 14:1-12; Luke 9:7-9; for the birth narratives of John the Baptist, see Luke 1; for his apocalyptic message, see Mark 1:2-8; Matt 3:1-12; Luke 3:1-20). (6) Josephus has some material about John, but this material does not alter the details about John the Baptist that I have noted here.

III. A Critique of Popkonstantinov’s (2010) Arguments, and any similar arguments made now in 2012

1. John the Baptist was buried in a tomb in Palestine, arguably in the Galilee (where he died). (2) John the Baptist died during the early 1st century CE. Therefore, without some compelling evidence for the moving of the body (or portions thereof) of John the Baptist (centuries later!) from the place of burial in Palestine, it is not cogent or prudent to propose that the remains found on a small island in the Black Sea, in the archaeological ruins of a basilica of the 5th century CE, are those of a Palestinian Jews named John the Baptist who lived, died, and was buried in the 1st century CE, in Palestine.

3. To be sure, Popkonstantinov has argued (2010) that the inscription on the sandstone box near the reliquary is the “key” to his interpretation. However, this is not particularly convincing. After all, the inscription certainly does *not* state that “these are the remains of John the Baptist.” 4. The date of June 24th is one of the feast days for John the Baptist (e.g., within Orthodox Christianity), but this cannot be construed as evidence that the bones themselves are actually those of John (indeed, the date of the founding of this church would argue against this, as the church was founded centuries after the death and burial of John the Baptist). 5. Furthermore, the inscription is not on the reliquary (where the bones were found), but rather, they are on a sandstone box that was found *near* the reliquary. One might propose that the bones are those of a certain man named “Thomas,” but even this is not necessarily the case, for a number of reasons (not the least of which is the fact that the reliquary and sandstone box need not have belonged to the same person or been deposited at precisely the same time in the basilica).

6. Mostly, the inscription strikes me as a plea of a pious believer from the island of Sveti Ivan to a famed patron saint, namely, a plea to John the Baptist. That’s it. That’s the way I would interpret the totality of the evidence.

7. Note that Popkonstantinov had stated (2010) that he knew of no DNA database for the relatives of John the Baptist. This is correct…there is certainly *not* such a database of DNA data for the relatives of John the Baptist. 8. Of course, carbon tests have recently been done on three of the human bone fragments, and these are ostensibly helpful in establishing the basic chronological horizon for the interred remains (assuming they have not been handled so much that carbon dating will be very difficult or almost impossible), but even these sort of data can do no more than suggest that these bones came from the same basic chronological horizon as John the Baptist. That’s a far cry from demonstrating that these are the actual bones of John the Baptist.

Ultimately, I would contend that for someone to suggest that these bones could be those of John the Baptist, a figure of 1st century CE Palestine, is tenuous in the extreme. In this connection I should note that Popkonstantinov (knowing that his understanding of the evidence is strained to the breaking point) was quoted as saying (in 2010): “Here, I believe, the science stops. Since we cannot prove the attribution of any of the relics with scientific methods, we have to be tolerant of those who want to believe that they are” (Popkonstantinov). I would gently suggest, though, that archaeological and literary analyses are about evidence, not about authority, faith, or piety. Thus, with all due respect, it is necessary to state that Popkonstantinov’s conclusions do not follow from the evidence.

IV. For the Sake of Argument, Here are the Sort of Data that would be Needed for Popkonstantinov’s Case.

1. A reliable ancient tradition, preferably from the late(r) 1st century or very early 2nd century CE, stating that the bones of John the Baptist had been moved to an island in the Black Sea; 2. An inscription on the burial box that stated something like “The bones of John the Baptist” (i.e., name and title…something such as “John” would not be sufficient); 3. A palaeographic date for the inscription itself that was late 1st century or very early 2nd century (after all, arguably no one in later centuries would be able to locate precisely the burial site of John the Baptist in Palestine and it may be that even in the late 1st century no one would have been able to have done so!). (4) Carbon 14 dating of the bones that yielded a 1st century CE date. We now have a carbon date which is helpful, but without the other data just outlined above (numbers 1-3), the carbon dates cannot be considered particularly useful in identifying the remains, even if they do come from the same basic chronological horizon. 5. Thus, in light of the general dearth of necessary data, it is necessary to conclude that these bones are not those of John the Baptist himself.

Sincerely,

Christopher Rollston

The Four-Line Ossuary Inscription from Talpiyot Tomb B (1981): Summary and Restatement

17 March 2012

There has been some substantial discussion about the four-line inscription, its readings and its renderings. The purpose of this post is to delineate the history of published proposals, summarizing salient points. Most of my posts on this find have been posted on the Official Blog of the American Schools of Oriental Research. For this reason, and because of subsequent discussion, I am now posting this summation here.

On February 28, 2012, James Tabor’s reading and translation of the four-line inscription was released. Namely, he and Simcha Jacobovici read it as follows: “DIOS IAIO UPSŌ AGB.” They translated their readings as “Divine Jehovah Lift up! Lift up!” They believe “Talpiyot Tomb B” to be a Christian tomb (in fact, they state that it is arguably the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea himself, although there is no ancient epigraphic evidence to suggest this) and they suggest that this four-line inscription is to be understood as reflective of an early Christian confession of a belief in the resurrection (and they have also argued that some of the ornamentation on a different ossuary from the same tomb is distinctively Christian, something that has been widely criticized as well). Also rather striking (and quite difficult to sustain), Tabor and Jacobovici have argued that the graphemes AGB (line 4) should be understood as the Greek transliteration of an H-stem verbal root gbh, although they had also mentioned (and dismissed) a suggestion of Richard Bauckham that it be considered a Semitic personal name transliterated into Greek graphemes, namely, “Agabus” (Tabor and Jacobovici 2012, 90-94; Tabor 2012, 18, no 42).

On February 28, 2012, around 1:00 p.m., a statement of mine was posted on the blog of the American Schools of Oriental Research in which I discussed various aspects of Talpiyot Tombs A and B (Rollston 2012a). Among other things, I stated that: “Regarding the reading of line two, I wish to emphasize that I do not consider the reading “Yahweh” (i.e., the Greek form of it) to be convincing at all. Simply put, this reading is wrong. To be sure, the tetragrammaton is attested in ancient Greek (with various spellings) and Iaio can be considered a viable Greek spelling of the tetragrammaton. However, the problem is that the first grapheme of line two is not an iota (and, at the very least, this grapheme would be necessary for reading the tetragrammaton in this line). Of course, Tabor and Jacobovici believe that the first grapheme of this line is an iota, and they are obviously assuming that this grapheme consists of a distinct and deeply incised top horizontal, a bottom horizontal, and a long vertical connector. There is, however, a palaeographic problem with this reading. Here is the reason: for the Greek script(s) of the Late Second Temple period, the morphology of iota is quite consistently a vertical stroke (sometimes with modest curvature), but without distinct top or bottom horizontals. This is the case for Greek texts on soft media (e.g., papyri) and on hard media (e.g., stone). The panoramic Greek script charts of the great Princeton palaeographer Bruce Metzger are reflective of this (e.g., Metzger 1981, 23, figure 2). For further demonstration of this aspect of the morphology of this grapheme, readers might also wish to consult photos of the Greek textual material from this chronological horizon on soft media (e.g., the Greek papyri from the Bar Kokhba Cave of Letters; See Lewis 1989, passim ) and on hard media (e.g., Jerusalem Ossuary inscriptions; see CIIP 1. #64, 65, #98, #134, #189, 199, etc.). I would suggest that the convergence of the cumulative evidence demonstrates in a cogent manner that the first grapheme is simply not an iota. In reality, this grapheme is most readily understood as a tau (i.e., a top horizontal and a vertical) or (alternatively) a zeta. However, it is certainly not an iota. Of course, since there is no iota here, there is no tetragrammaton” (Rollston 2012a).

I did not provide all of my readings at that time, nor did I go into further detail about the palaeography, as my statement on February 28 was certainly not intended to be an editio princeps of that inscription. However, I did state in that initial article that I was “most comfortable with reading the last two graphemes of line one and the first two graphemes of line two as ‘osta,” that is, ‘bones,” a word that certainly does occur in a number of ossuary inscriptions and burial texts. Further, if one were to wish to read hupsō, I would then be inclined to understand this inscription to be stating that the bones of the deceased are not to be removed, that is, ‘lifted up’ from the ossuary” (Rollston 2012a).

On March 8th, 2012, Richard Bauckham (who had been working with James Tabor and Simcha Jacobovici) responded with an article on the blog of the American Schools of Oriental Research. Bauckham stated that he believed “the inscription is actually very clear.” He also went on to indicate that he accepted all of Tabor’s readings (i.e., the Greek graphemes Tabor believes are present), but he translated the inscription as follows: “Belonging to Zeus IAIO. I, Hagab, exalt (him/you).” In addition, he states that “It is the only ossuary inscription to mention God in any way, let alone to use the divine name.” He also states that “as far as I know, our inscription is the only extant example of an identification of Yahweh with Zeus in a Palestinian Jewish context after the Maccabean period” (Bauckham 2012). Bauckham also quoted my statement that the first grapheme of line two is definitely not an iota and then said of himself that although he “is not an epigrapher” (these are his words, not mine), he would “venture to say that he [Rollston] is being far too dogmatic.” He then went on to refer to a few examples of iota and said they had “very distinct top and bottom horizontals.” However, it is significant that he goes on to use the term “serifs” (i.e., “apices”) for these strokes. Indeed, (in the examples he cites from CIIP) they are serifs, that is, lightly incised strokes, not full-blown deeply incised strokes. That is, they are not something that an epigrapher would normally consider to be good parallels for the full blown, deeply incised stroke that is at the top of the grapheme in question (i.e., the first grapheme of line two of the Talpiyot inscription). There was another problem as well, however, and Bauckham sensed it: “It does need to be explained why, in our inscription, only this letter is adorned with apices” (i.e., serifs). He’s certainly correct in deducing a serious problem with his view. Namely, the only grapheme in this four-line inscription from Talpiyot with serifs (i.e., what he understands to be serifs) is his and Tabor’s iota at the beginning of line two! After all, in the Greek epigraphic corpus from this period and horizon, when serifs are present, they are normally present on multiple graphemes (see the images I posted on the ASOR web site, Rollston 2012b). Here is Bauckham’s way of accounting for it: “The most likely reason seems to be that it is the first letter of the divine Name, which the writer wished to mark out as special.” He then goes on to state that “It is his equivalent of the various other ways of distinguishing the divine Name when it was written in Hebrew or Greek biblical manuscripts or elsewhere (such as the common practice among Qumran scribes of writing the Name in paleo-Hebrew chaacters” (Bauckham 2012).

On March 15, 2012, in response to a number of requests, I wrote an article with my readings and some proposed translations (Rollston 2012b), as well as a detailed discussion of palaeographic matters Bauckham had posted about, especially the iota (and thus the tetrgrammaton) in line two of the Talpiyot inscription. Here is the essence of my epigraphic reply: “(1) I would note, however, that these inscriptions [the very ones to which Bauckham had referred] have serifs on multiple graphemes and just one, as the Talpiyot inscription allegedly does. (2) Furthermore, I would note that on most inscriptions with serifs, the serifs are not nearly as deeply incised as is (for example) the top horizontal of the Talpiyot grapheme Tabor and Bauckham consider to be an iota with a serifs. That is, the top horizontal of that grapheme does not have the appearance of a serif, but rather a full blown, deeply incised stroke. Bauckham senses the first problem and states that “it does need to be explained why, in our inscription, only this letter is adorned with apices [i.e., serifs].” He then states that “the most likely reason seems to be that it is the first letter of the divine Name, which the writer wished to mark out as special.” He goes on to suggest that this is similar to the way the divine name is treated in some Hebrew and Greek biblical manuscripts. He refers in particular to Qumran practice (Bauckham 2012). However, I would note that the practice at Qumran is quite dissimilar. At Qumran, Emanuel Tov states that “divine names were written in a special way in many Hebrew Qumran texts” and then he provides the following synopsis: (A) All four graphemes of the tetragrammaton are written in Paleo-Hebrew characters in texts which are written in the square script; (B) Four dots in texts written in the square script; (C) A dicolon (:), followed by a space, placed before the Tetragrammaton (written in the square script); (D) the use of a different color of ink, in the case of 11Q22 (Tov 2004, 219-220, et passim; see also Tov 2001). In other words, there are no cases of the initial grapheme formed in a distinct way, but the remaining graphemes of the Tetragrammaton written in the standard (i.e., non-paleo-Hebrew) script. It is worth noting in this connection that Larry Hurtado has done a great deal of work on the Nomina Sacra in early Christian Greek manuscripts, but even in these manuscripts, there is nothing that parallels the sort of thing that Bauckham is proposing here (Hurtado 2006, 95-134; see also Metzger 1981, 36-37).

In addition to discussing these epigraphic factors, I provided all of my readings then (Rollston 2012b, i.e., March 15), using some of the photographs National Geographic provided me with in May 2011 and those published on the web (NB: I had served as the Epigraphic Consultant for National Geographic on this find for several months). Namely, I reiterated my reading of tau for the first grapheme of line two. Here are my words and I would draw the reader’s attention again to the images in my article, which are posted on ASOR’s Official Blog (Rollston 2012b): “I would ask the reader to look carefully at the image labeled Talpiyot 1, the second line, the first grapheme. At the bottom of the vertical of this grapheme is a pit in the stone (right next to the left oblique stroke of the alpha). I would ask the reader also to look at a different photograph, with a different light angle, namely, the image labeled Talpiyot 2. It is clear from this image that there is no horizontal stroke on the left side. Rather, there is a downward scratch (in fact, it may be that the person inscribing this ossuary made this mark when he was forming the upper part of the head of the upsilon, although it could have happened at almost any time). In any case, the point is that the “marks” Tabor and Bauckham considered the bottom horizontal of an iota are just pitting and scratches. Frankly, this sort of thing is very common in the field of epigraphy. The end result, of course, is that a recognition of the pitting and scratching yields a perfect tau. I should also make an additional notation regarding this line, namely, the grapheme Tabor and Bauckham consider to be the second iota. I draw the reader’s attention again to the image labeled Talpiyot 1, the second line and the third grapheme. It is a very clear epsilon, not an iota.”

Then I said: “Astute readers will have noticed, at this juncture, that the word osta “bones” can now be read (the last two graphemes of line one and the first two graphemes of line two). The normal spelling of this word in the plural is ostea, although the spelling osta is also well attested in the Greek corpus. In this case we have, I believe, either a dialectical variant in the pronunciation of this word (causing it to be spelled ostae, rather than ostea), an actual orthographic variant, or a simple orthographic error (all three of these things occurs in the corpus of ancient funerary inscriptions). In any case, reading “bones” in a funerary context is quite compelling. Moreover, the final grapheme of line two is an omicron and the first grapheme of the following line (line three) is an upsilon. This is, I believe, simply the negative, a lexeme that occurs rather frequently in tomb contexts when there are references to bones and ossuaries.”

I should mention in this connection that within that article of March 15, I discussed in some detail the sorts of statements that we find in Jewish burial contexts from the Late Second Temple and Early Post-Biblical chronological period. Of course, suffice it to say that words such as “bones” and “ossuary” are well attested.

I went on to note that in terms of readings, I would posit the following: DE OSTAE OU PSŌ AGB . Understanding the verbal to be psaō, I stated that “I would posit that it is reasonable to render this inscription: “Here are bones. I touch (them) not. Agabus. “ As such “Agabus” could be the name of the deceased, and thus this could be translated “Here are bones. I touch them not, O Agabus.” Conversely, it could also be that the first person singular is used here of the man who asserts that he does not touch bones. Thus, this could then be translated quite nicely as “Here are bones: I, Agabus, touch (them) not.” That is, purity issues or general taboos about contact with bones could be in play, as Talmudicist Steven Fine has suggested to me privately. I should mention also in this connection (as I did in one of my comments on the ASOR blog for this article, namely, one made March 15, 5:41 p.m.) that it is important to remember that (although some ossuaries were inscribed in the tomb, before or after disarticulated remains were placed in the ossuary) ossuaries could also be inscribed (A) at a workshop at the time of manufacture, (B) or after the time of manufacture but prior to the placement of the ossuary in the tomb, (c) or after the placement in the tomb but prior to the placement of bones in the ossuary. Thus, one could readily envision the inscription being placed on this ossuary (at some point) prior to the deposition of the bones, and this could be the semantic framework for the inscription, that is, prior to the deposition of the bones, the stone mason wrote: “I do not touch the bones.” Obviously, we cannot answer this with certitude, but it is a plausible option as a Sitz im Leben for this inscription. In any case, I also suggested (in Rollston 2012b) that the intransitive meaning is also viable. Thus, something such as “Here are (my) bones. I, Agabus, crumble not away.”

At that time, and now still, I also consider it possible to read the verb upsoō here (as I mentioned also in Rollston 2012a). In this case, it would read something along these lines: “Here are the bones. I lift not (the bones/ossuary), O Agabus,” or “Here are the bones. I, Agabus, lift (the bones/ossuary) not. I should note in this connection that I consider the proposal suggested by Bauckham (but rejected by Tabor), namely, the presence of the personal name “Agabus” (in line four of the Talpiyot inscription) to be satisfying (Tabor 2012, 16, no 42). In any case, the point is that the content of this inscription falls within the traditional sorts of statements that occur in Late Second Temple and Early Post-Biblical tomb contexts….it’s all about bones.

After reading my post, Robert Hull, a colleague of mine, suggested to me that rather than reading a form of ōde at the beginning of this inscription (as I did), he would prefer to read di, that is, a standard shortened form of the preposition dia. I suggested to him that the second grapheme of this inscription was abraded enough that I believed an iota to be a plausible reading for line one, grapheme two, that is, the short form of the preposition was something I considered viable. At my suggestion, he posted his proposal on ASOR’s blog as a comment to my article. Using his understanding of di, the rest of my readings, and one of my proposed possible renderings of the verb psaō, Hull proposed the following: “On account of [the] bones, I, Agabus, do not touch.” At that juncture, Bauckham, using my proposal of an intransitive meaning for psaō and all of my readings (but with Hull’s suggestion of di for dia), suggested (in the comment section of my March 15 ASOR blog post) the following: “Because of (these) bones, I, Hagab, am not crumbling away (disappearing).” He stated further in that comment that “this actuall makes good sense in terms of a Jewish understanding of resurrection, which depended on the bones as the continuity between the body in the present life and the body in resurrection. The rest of the body decays, but the bones survive to be resurrected.” Nnote that Bauckham has emphasized multiple times in his comments on Rollston 2012b [that is, on the ASOR blog], that he believes issues of purity and impurity simply do not play a part in this inscription, while I continue to believe that issues of purity-impurity, or general taboos, could be operative, as Talmudic scholar Steven Fine has suggested.

Obviously, I am pleased with, and comfortable with, these suggested translations of my readings and understandings of the inscription. And, of course, I’m certainly comfortable with Hull’s understanding of a short form of di in line one. To be sure, though, I would not be surprised to find entha somewhere on this ossuary (which would then be joined with my initial reading of de at the beginning of line one, thus forming the very commonly attested beginning of funerary inscriptions, namely, enthade “here”). After all, on ossuaries, words, or portions thereof, sometimes begin on one part of an ossuary and then continue on a different part of the ossuary.

In short, in terms of readings for this very brief inscription (just fourteen graphemes!), I continue to contend for the following reading: DE OSTAE OU PSŌ AGB, while also considering viable: DI OSTAE OU PSŌ. In terms of the verb, it could be understood (as I suggested on March 15, Rollston 2012b) as psaō, with either the transitive or intransitive meanings I mentioned then (i.e., “I touch not,” or “I crumble not away”/”I disappear not”). Conversely, because we do see the shortened form of the negative attested epigraphically in Greek (i.e., o for ou; perhaps also compare the phenomenon of crasis in Greek), it is also viable to suggest (as I did in Rollston 2012a, that is, February 28) that the verb preceded by the negative is indeed upsoō (i.e., “lift,” “raise up,” “exalt”), especially since a number of ossuary inscriptions refer to the movement or non-movement of ossuaries or bones (see Rollston 2012b for these references). Of course, in the latter case something such as this is tenable: “Because of the bones, I lift not (the ossuary), O Agabus,” or “Because of the bones, I Agagus, lift not (the ossuary),” with the ossuary being understood, as it is the thing being written upon. Of course, something such as “Here are the bones, I lift not (the ossuary/bones), O Agabus,” or “Here are the bones, I Agabus lift (the ossuary/bones) not” are also plausible. In sum, I consider this inscription to be about bones, and it is also clear that the tetragrammaton is simply not used in this inscription.

Christopher Rollston

___________

Bibliography

Bauckham, R.
2012 “The Four-Line Ossuary Inscription from Talpiyot Tomb B—An Interpretation.” ASOR
Blog March 2012. http://asorblog.org/?p=1848.

CIIP 1
2010 Corpus Inscriptionum Iudaeae/Palaestinae: volume I, Jerusalem, Part 1, 1-704. H. Cotton, L. Di Segni, W. Eck, B.
Isaac, A. Kushnir-Stein, H. Misgav, J. Price, I. Roll, and A. Yardeni, eds. Berlin: DeGruyter.

Lewis, N.
1989 The Documents from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters: Greek Papyri. Judean
Desert Studies. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Studies.

Metzger, B. M.
1981 Manuscripts of the Greek Bible: An Introduction to Greek Palaeography. New York:
Oxford.

Rollston, C. A.
2012a “Reflections of an Epigrapher on Talpiyot Tombs A and B: A Detailed Response to the
Claims of Professor James Tabor and Filmmaker Simcha Jacobovici.” ASOR Blog
February 2012. http://asorblog.org/?p=1642.

Rollston, C.A.
2012b “The Four-Line Greek Inscription from a Talpiyot Tomb: Epigraphic Notes and Historical
Discussions.” ASOR Blog March 2012. http://asorblog.org/?p=1989.

Tabor, J. D.
2012 “A Preliminary Report of a Robotic Camera Exploration of a Sealed 1st Century Tomb in East Talpiyot,
Jerusalem.” Bible and Interpretation web site. Posted February 28, 2012.

Tabor, J.D. and Jacobovici, S.
2012 The Jesus Discovery: The new Archaeological find that Reveals the Birth of Christianity.
Simon and Schuster, 2012.

BELIEF IN THE RESURRECTION IN ANCIENT CONTEXT

17 March 2012

BELIEF IN THE RESURRECTION IN ANCIENT CONTEXT:
LATE SECOND TEMPLE JUDAISM, EARLY POST-BIBLICAL JUDAISM, AND EARLY CHRISTIANITY

There is often a great deal of misunderstanding about this subject generally. That is, people who do not work in ancient history or ancient religion often assume that a belief in a resurrection was some sort of distinctively Christian belief. That, however, is a serious misconception. The fact of the matter is that within various segments of Late Second Temple Judaism, as well as within Early Post-Biblical Judaism, the notion of a resurrection was warmly embraced by many. The locus classicus in the Hebrew Bible is arguably the following text from the mid-2nd century BCE: “Many of those sleeping in the dust of the earth shall awaken, some to everlasting life and some to everlasting peril” (Dan 12:2; notice here that the correlative of “damnation” or “hell” is also present in some fashion, of course). Within the Old Testament Apocrypha, the notion of a resurrection is embraced at times as well, with the narrative about the martyrdom of “the mother and her seven sons” being a fine exemplar of this. Thus, according to the narrative, one of the sons said during the torture that preceded his death: “the King of the universe will raise us up to an everlasting renewal of life, because we have died for his laws” (2 Macc 7:9). Similarly, the mother herself says within the narrative, as an exhortation to her martyred sons: “the Creator of the world…will in his mercy give life and breath back to you again” (2 Macc 7:23). 2 Maccabees arguably hails from the first half of the 1st century BCE. Regarding the dead, the Wisdom of Solomon also affirms that the dead “seemed to have died,” but “they are at peace,” and “their hope is full of immortality,” and they will ultimately “shine forth” and “will govern nations and ruler over peoples” (Wisdom 3:2-8 passim, with the Greek future tense being used here). The Wisdom of Solomon arguably hails from the second half of the 1st century BCE. Significantly, all of these texts antedate the rise of Christianity and they all affirm a belief in a resurrection. In short, many Jewish people believed in a resurrection long before Christianity came along. To be sure, a belief in a resurrection was not universally accepted by all Jewish people in the Second Temple period. Some Jewish people did not believe in a resurrection. For example, the traditionalist Ben Sira rejected the notion of eternal bliss for the righteous and eternal punishment for the wicked. Thus, he wrote: “Who in the netherworld can glorify the Most High, in place of the living who offer their praise? No more can the dead give praise than those who have never lived; they glorify the Lord who are alive and well” (Sir 17:27-28). In sum, although not all Jewish people of the Late Second Temple period accepted the notion of a resurrection, there are texts from this period that demonstrate that a fair number did.

Furthermore, the Jewish historian Josephus (lived ca. 37-100 CE) also discusses the subject of the perishability and imperishability of the soul, with regard to some of the major strands of Judaism during the first century of the Common Era. Regarding the Pharisees, therefore, he states that they believe “every soul is imperishable, but the soul of the good alone passes into another body, while the souls of the wicked suffer eternal punishment.” Conversely, regarding the Sadducees he states that “as for the persistence of the soul after death, penalties in the underworld, and rewards; they will have none of them.” Regarding the Essenes, Josephus states that they believe “the body is corruptible and its constituent matter impermanent, but that the soul is immortal and imperishable…sharing the belief of the sons of Greece, they maintain that for virtuous souls there is reserved an abode beyond the ocean, a place which is not oppressed by rain or snow or heat, but is refreshed by the ever gentle breath of the west wind coming in from ocean, while they relegate base souls to a murky and tempestuous dungeon, big with never-ending punishments” (Josephus, Jewish War, II, 11-14; for more discussion, see Nickelsburg 1972, 164-169). Of course, pericopes within the Greek New Testament regarding the Pharisees and Sadducees dovetail nicely with Josephus. The locus classicus for the New Testament is arguably contained within the book of Acts: “The Sadducees say that there is no resurrection, or angel, or spirit; but the Pharisees acknowledge all three” (Acts 23:8; cf. also Matt 22:23). Of course, within Early Christianity, the notion of a resurrection (and the presumed correlative, “hell”, is also attested in some form in Daniel 12:2) predominates, as the soil from which Christianity especially hails is that of apocalyptic Late Second Temple Judaism (Ehrman 1999). Pericopes within the Greek New Testament such as “The Rich Man and Lazarus” (Luke 16:19-31) and “The New Heaven and New Earth” (Rev 21) reflect this, of course. Moreover, the belief in a resurrection persists in subsequent chronological horizons of Early Christianity as well (e.g., see Ferguson 1999, 16,23, 26, 65-78).

In short, based on evidence from literary texts associated with Late Second Temple Judaism and Early Christianity, scholars of the Hebrew Bible, Second Temple Judaism, the Greek New Testament, and Early Christianity have for a very long time dealt with these ancient assumptions about the afterlife; therefore, the consensus of the field has long been that some Jewish people within the Late Second Temple period embraced a belief in a resurrection and some did not (e.g., DiLella 1966; Collins 1998; Ehrman 1999). Of course, Christianity too (originally a sect of Judaism, with strong apocalyptic tendencies) did embrace a notion of a resurrection, and this is very clear from the documents of the Greek New Testament. But the fact remains that many Jewish people of the late Second Temple Period believed in a resurrection, not just Jewish Christians, and the fact remains that a belief in the resurrection is attested within Judaism prior to the rise of Christianity. This is just a historical fact.

Significantly, for Late Second Temple Judaism and Post-Biblical Judaism, epigraphic evidence also demonstrates that some Jewish people believed in a resurrection and some did not. For example, an inscription in a corridor of the Jewish catacombs of Beth She’arim reads as follows: “Best wishes in the Resurrection!” (Greek: “anastasis”; Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 180 [#194]). Moreover, one ossuary from Jerusalem has the following: “No one has abolished/cancelled his entering, not even El‘azar and Shapira” (CIIP 1. #93). Similarly, a Jerusalem ossuary has the following Greek inscription: “Cheer up and feast, you brothers who are living, and drink together! No one is immortal” (CIIP 1. #395). Similarly, an inscription in a mausoleum adjacent to catacomb eleven at Beth She’arim has the following inscription: “I, the son of Leontios, lie dead, Justus, the son of Sappho, who, having plucked the fruit of all wisdom, left the light, my poor parents in endless mourning, and my brothers too, alas, in my Beth She‘arim, And having gone to Hades, I Justus, lie here with many of my own kindred, since mighty Fate so willed. Be of good courage, Justus, no one is immortal” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 97 [#127]). Similarly, an inscription from Beth She’arim reads: “Be of good courage, Simon; no one is immortal” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 35-36 [#59]). Or again from Beth She’arim: “Be of good courage, lady Calliope from Byblos; no one is immortal” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 124-125 [#136]). From a Greek inscription from Beth She’arim: “May your portion be good, my lord father and lady mother, and may your souls be bound in immortal life” (Greek: athanatou biou; Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 114-116 [#130]). Among the longest of this sort of inscription from Beth She’arim is the following: “this tomb contains the dwindling remains of noble Karteria, preserving forever her illustrious memory. Zenobia brought her here for burial, fulfilling thus her mother’s behest. For you, most blessed of women, your offspring, whom you bore from your gentle womb, your pious daughter, for she always does actions praiseworthy in the eyes of mortals, erected this monument so that even after the end of life’s term, may you both enjoy again indestructible riches” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 157-167 [#183]). Similarly, an inscription from Beth She’arim says: “May your lot be good, Hannah” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 2-3 [#2]). Or again, one of the Beth She’arim inscriptions contains the following statement: “Julianus Gemellus, may your share be good” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 8 [#13]). And again, “Sarah, mother of Yosi, have courage” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 16 [#22]). Likewise, an ossuary from Beth She’arim has the word “peace” in Greek and Hebrew and in its entirety it reads as follows: “Shalom, little Yosi, Shalom” (Schwabe and Lifschitz 1974, 19 [#28]). In sum, some epigraphic texts from ancient Judaism presuppose a belief in a resurrection and some do not.

Thus, in the final analysis, the cumulative evidence is decisive: There is nothing distinctively “Christian” about a belief in a resurrection. Rather, some segments of Late Second Temple and Early Post-Biblical Judaism believed in a resurrection and some segments did not. Christianity, as an heir to apocalyptic branches of Judaism, was quite consistent in always affirming a belief in a resurrection, but the fact remains that belief in a resurrection is well attested prior to the rise of Christianity, and this belief also persists in certain segments of Judaism after the rise of Christianity.

Christopher Rollston

CIIP 1
2010 Corpus Inscriptionum Iudaeae/Palaestinae: volume I, Jerusalem, Part 1, 1-704. H. Cotton, L. Di Segni, W. Eck, B. Isaac, A. Kushnir-Stein, H. Misgav, J. Price, I. Roll, and A. Yardeni, eds. Berlin: DeGruyter.

Collins, J. J.
1998 The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 2nd ed.
Biblical Resource Series. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.

Di Lella, A. A.
1966 “Conservative and Progressive Theology: Sirach and Wisdom.” CBQ 28: 139-154.

Ehrman, Bart
1999 Jesus: Apocalpytic Prophet of the new Millennium. New York: Oxford.

Ferguson, E.
1999 Early Christians Speak: Faith and Life in the First Three Centuries. 3rd edition. Abilene:
Abilene Christian University Press.

Nickelsburg, G. W.E., Jr.
1972 Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism. Harvard
Theological Studies 26. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Schwabe, M. and Lifschitz, B.
1974. Beth She‘arim: Volume II, the Greek Inscriptions. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and the Institute of Archaeology of Hebrew University.

REFLECTING ON SOME OF THE MOTIVATIONS OF FORGERS

15 March 2012

Various motivations can be deduced (with some certitude) for the production of forgeries. (1) Venality is certainly a component present in the production and sale of forgeries. Non-provenanced inscriptions routinely sell for four, five, and even six figures. Some recent non-provenanced inscriptions have been valued at seven figures. (2) Some forgeries are arguably the result of “sour grapes” (e.g., a student purged from a Northwest Semitic epigraphy program) or professional rivalry, with the forger hoping to “dupe” the “offender.” (3) Naturally, sometimes a forgery can be a prank. For example, the forger of the Hebron Documents was probably a prankster (or a dolt, or both). (4) Moreover, there is a certain amount of prestige associated with being the person who “collects,” “vets,” or “finds” a significant “ancient epigraph” from the market. Indeed, the public (and even scholars within the field) can sometimes lionize such people, often suspending critical mental faculties (and thus assessments of antiquity) because of “sensational” non-provenanced epigraphs. (5) Religion and politics are also strong motives for the production of a forgery. For example, there was arguably a strong religious motivation for the production of the Shapira Fragments (and the initial aura surrounding them). The fact that the Jehoash Inscription was “reported to have been found in the region of the Temple Mount” has political and religious overtones. Ultimately, forgers are arguably motivated by a combination of such factors, and, of course, with each success, hubris is fostered.

Finally, I should like to note that those who suggest that “knowledgeable people” would not engage in the production or vetting of a forgery are being rather naïve. The fact of the matter is that even gifted scholars have been implicated for the production of forgeries. For example, Metzger has stated that former Princeton classicist Coleman-Norton (Metzger’s Doktorvater) concocted an apocryphal story about finding a manuscript of a Greek translation of the Latin Opus Imperfectum in Matthaeum (in the North African town of Fedhala), and then published a detailed article about his sensational “find.” That is, to assume that bright, well-trained people are always characterized by professional ethics is belied by “epigraphic history.”

This post is a selection from my article in Maarav 10 (2003): 135-193…and from pages 191-193 in particular.

The Israeli Forgery Trial: The Verdict is Given

14 March 2012

Epigraphic forgeries have been produced for more than two millennia, and they continue to be produced. Among the most famous from the Middle Ages is the The Donation of Constantine, a document that was hailed as ancient and important…until Lorenza Valla demonstrated (1407-1457 CE) the damning philological and historical evidence against its authenticity. Similarly, an inscription referred to as the “Brazilian Phoenician Inscription” was forged during the late 1800s and purported to be an account of Sidonians landing in Brazil. M. Lidzbarski declared it to be a forgery (in 1898), but Cyrus Gordon revived this inscriptional debate and argued (in 1968) that it was indeed an ancient Phoenician inscription. Galvanized by Gordon’s declarations, Frank Cross demonstrated (in 1968) very nicely that this inscription was forged in the modern period.

Similarly, in 1971 G. Mendenhall argued that some inscriptions from the antiquities market, inscriptions dubbed “The Hebron Philistine Documents” were ancient, and he subsequently stated that progress was being made in decipherment of these ancient documents. Frank Cross, however, stated in an annual meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature that year that these documents were modern forgeries. But Mendenhall chided Cross (without naming him in print) and stated that those who said these documents were modern forgeries simply “do not want to be confused with new facts” and “have already made up their minds about what the ancient world was supposed to produce.” Mendenhall went on to state that “the only scholars who are convinced of their authenticity are those who have worked seriously with the original documents, including the extremely productive computer analysis.” He also said (in 1970 and 1971) that “it is very difficult to believe that scholars capable of putting such an enormous range of information into these documents would also be capable of such irresponsible misuse of learning.” Because these sorts of statements persisted, Joseph Naveh wrote an article entitled “Some Recently forged Inscriptions” in the Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research (1982) and demonstrated that these Hebron inscriptions were modern forgeries, and of a particuarly poor sort, as they were basically the Siloam Tunnel Inscritpion written backwards!

Mendenhall’s statement suggesting basically that “no one who has such knowledge would ever do something such as this” is oft cited by many people in different contexts (but mostly it is cited by those who wish to state that this or that modern forgery must be ancient because no person capable of producing a forgery would do so). Of course, (sadly) Mendenhall was too sanguine with regard to his assumptions about human nature and human motives. This is demonstrated most convincingly by the fact that Princeton University Professor P. R. Coleman-Norton published an article in Catholic Biblical Quarterly (in 1950) about finding a manuscript which was a Greek translation of the Latin Opus Imperfectum in Matthaeum, a manuscript he said he came across in the North African town of Fedhala. In his autobiography entitled Reminiscences of an Octogenarian Princeton Theological Seminary professor Bruce Metzger demonstrated that this “ancient manuscript” Coleman-Norton had said he found was non-existent, and that the entire thing was a Witz, as even the title of the editio princeps demonstrated (it was entitled “An Amusing Agraphon”). In short, very capable scholars are also capable of producing forgeries, and of this there can be no doubt. Of course, even the best forgeres make mistakes…and trained palaeographers can discern these, and this also has long been the case (although some scholars are more capable than others at this, as history also demonstrates).

Naturally, with regard to some of the inscriptions that were part of this trial, it is important to remember that Joseph Naveh argued in print (in an article in Israel Exploration Journal) that the “Two Moussaieff Ostraca” were probable forgeries (in 1998). After collating most of the provenanced Old Hebrew inscriptions in the late 1990s and then looking carefully at the Moussaieff Ostraca, I began to argue (publicly, beginning in March 1999) that these two Moussaieff Ostraca were definitive modern forgeries. Of course, during the 2001 and 2002 the “Jehosash Inscription” surfaced. Joseph Naveh considered it a modern forgery (he told me this in an e-mail, in response to my e-mail to him in which I mentioned the numerous palaeographic problems I saw in this inscription which were demonstrative of its status as a modern forgery…and Naveh told me he felt the same way). Frank Cross also told me in an e-mail (in response to my e-mail to him, listing the palaeographic problems with the Jehoash Inscription) that he too believed the Jehoash Inscription to be a modern forgery and he too soon wrote an article for Israel Exploration Journal arguing that the Jehoash Inscription was indeed a modern forgery. At the same time, I was in the process of completing a long article on epigraphic forgeries for Maarav (published in 2003…and now available on Academia.edu), which included a long palaeographic discussion of the problems with the Moussaieff Ostraca and so I augmented that article with my observations about the palaeographic problems with the Jehoash Inscription. Frank Cross subsequently told me in an e-mail (which he sent in response to a penultimate draft of my long Maarav article on forgeries, an e-mail I still have) that he had become convinced that these Moussaieff Ostraca were indeed modern forgeries as well (he had previously been quoted in print as saying they were genuine). In fact, Cross went even further and stated in an open letter that he also considered the Ivory Pomegranate to be a modern forgery as well. Yuval Goren of Tel Aviv University became involved during this time as the primary scholar who used hard science analyses on these inscriptions (and many others), and his conclusions were that these inscriptions were indeed modern forgeries. There were dissenting voices, but not many.

Of course, the discussion in Israel soon focused on those that were believed to have forged some of these inscriptions. Based on various lines of evidence, there was a decision to attempt to prosecute those believed to be responsible for at least some of the most recent modern forgeries. For a nice summary of the objects that were part of the trial, discussion of the problems with the antiquities market, and with forgeries in general, readers might wish to consult the articles in Near Eastern Archaeology 68 (2005). As part of that trial, I was brought to Israel to testify a few years ago and did so…beginning one morning at around nine in the morning and finishing shortly before eleven p.m. It was a long, but productive day. I found the prosecutors, Dan Bahat and Adi Damti, to be gifted, devoted prosecutors. Moreover, Judge Aharon Farkash is a very fine judge, learned, wise. The problem is that he did not believe there was enough evidence “to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.” Significantly, however, speaking about the Ya’akov Ossuary (“James Ossuary”) in particular, Judge Farkash also stated (quite reasonably) that this “is not to say that the inscription on the ossuary is true and authentic and was written two thousand years ago.” Also, Prosecutor Dan Bahat has stated that the case had been “complicated by the refusal of a key witness, who was suspected of helping to forge many of the items, to come from Egypt to testify.” Bahat also stated that “What we have tried to do here is to set an international precedent.” Further elaborating, he said, “this is the first time someone has brought the issue of antiquiteis forgery before a court.”

At the end of the day, regardless of the guilt or innocent of those individuals charged and tried for forging inscriptions in this case, the fact remains that forgeries have been produced for more than two millennia and I do not forsee this changing. Indeed, it never will…after all, the motives for forgeries are numerous, from venality, to sour grapes, to a Witz, and from antiquity to the modern period even extend to realms of motivation in the realms of the political and religious.. I have an article coming out in a Brown University Symposium volume on the history of forgeries…and I have an academic monograph on this subject that will be sent off to a publisher this coming summer….so the saga continues…

James Tabor’s Iota: A Palaeographic Problem for his Inscriptional Reading

8 March 2012

Tabor's Drawing of Four-Line Inscription

James Tabor has argued that the four-line Greek inscription from the tomb which he and Simcha Jacobovici have dubbed “Talpiyot Tomb B” should be read as follows: (1) DIOS; (2) IAIO; (3) UPSW; (4) AGB. He renders it “Divine Jehovah Lift, Lift Up.” Richard Bauckham (on the ASOR blog) has followed Tabor’s readings (i.e., the Greek letters Tabor believes to be there), although Bauckham prefers to translate it “Belonging to Zeus IAIO. I, Hagab, exalt (him/you).” There is much that I like about Bauckham’s discussion in general, and I am very pleased by his basic conclusions.

Palaeographers, however, would note a rather serious problem for Tabor and Bauckham’s reading of line two…namely, the dramatic difference in the morphology of the iota, as a viewing of Tabor’s own drawings (p. 91, _The Jesus Discovery_) demonstrates. Thus, Tabor and Bauckham read an iota at the beginning of line two, but one with very long horizontal crossbars (a palaeographic problem I shall soon discuss in a long palaeographic and philological post here, replete with all of my readings and a full translation). However, the next grapheme they read as an iota is a straight vertical (with no horizontals). Variation in the same hand on ossuary inscriptions is certainly attested, but this great of morphological variation for this grapheme is not attested in the epigraphic corpus from this region during this chronological horizon. This is, of course, a serious problem for their reading of this ossuary inscription. Suffice it to say that I remain convinced that this inscription does not mention Yahweh, but it does mention “bones” (i.e., Greek “osta“).

Christopher Rollston

Joseph of Arimathea and Talpiyot Tomb B? An Absence of Reasonable Evidence for a Connection

5 March 2012

James Tabor and Simcha Jacobovici have posited that Talpiyot Tomb B is a tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathea (i.e., the “Joseph of Arimathea” mentioned in the canonical gospels), and that this tomb also contains the actual ossuary of Joseph of Arimathea himself. Here are some citations of Tabor and Jacobovici’s views: Talpiyot Tombs A and B “are most likely located on the rural estate of Joseph of Arimathea, a wealthy member of the Sanhedrin who according to all four New Testament gospels took official charge of Jesus’ burial” (Tabor and Jacobovici, 2). But he is framed as wealthy and so they believe they have to account for the modest nature of this ossuary, thus, they suggest that there may have been “something about his faith or piety as part of the Jesus movement” that led him to “prefer such a modest bone box” (Tabor and Jacobovici, 89). Then they conclude that “it is not hard or even overly speculative for us to posit that the Talpiyot Tombs are a tiny but amazing glimpse into the life of Joseph of Arimathea” (Tabor and Jacobovici, 128).

The ossuary in Talpiyot Tomb B which they consider to be that of Joseph of Arimathea is one they also refer to as a “humble ossuary” (Tabor and Jacobovici, 89). Along the same lines, they query: “might Joseph of Arimathea have chosen a…modest ossuary for himself and his most immediate family—but one that boldly proclaimed their faith even in the midst of opposition and conflict?” (Tabor and Jacobovici, 90). It should be noted that the reason they refer to this ossuary as “boldly proclaiming their faith” is because the ossuary they believe to be that of “Joseph of Arimathea” is the one with the ornamentation they understand to be “Jonah and the Big Fish.” Of course, most scholars consider this ornamentation to be a nephesh tower or an unguentarium, not “Jonah and the Big Fish.”

In any case, the main point that I would emphasize at this time is this: The known inscriptions in Talpiyot Tomb B are (1) a four line inscription which has no reference to someone named “Joseph,” and certainly no reference to someone named “Joseph of Arimathea,” and (2) an inscription consisting of a single word, namely, “Mara” which they consider to be a reference to a woman, not a man (Tabor and Jacobovici, 127). They suggest that there is “circumstantial evidence,” namely, they suggest that “Arimathea” means “high” and Talpiyot is a “high” place. Of course, I would suggest that just being a “high” place is pretty circumstantial evidence indeed! Moreover, I would note that “Arimathea” is called a polis (Luke 23:51), that is, a “city,” rather than just a “high” place. Thus, I would suggest that most scholars will not consider the evidence to which Tabor and Jacobovici refer to be considered sufficient for their claim.

I would propose that for a historian to make a credible argument that this is the land, tomb, and ossuary of Joseph of Arimathea there must be solid evidence, such as the name “Joseph of Arimathea” inscribed on the ossuary. But, since these words are not there, it is really not convincing to posit that this is the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. Tabor and Jacobovici may believe that it is not “hard or overly speculative” to say that this is the land, tomb, and ossuary of Joseph of Arimathea, but I think most epigraphers, prosopographers, and historians would find it to be quite speculative.

Reference:

James D. Tabor and Simcha Jacobovici, The Jesus Discovery: The New Archaeological Find that Reveals the Birth of Christianity. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2012

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