B. Earliest Sources
Precisely how and when Christianity arrived in northern Mesopotamia is unknown. Because of the prominence of the city of Edessa in the fourth century, together with legends connecting that city with figures, including Jesus, from the first century, it has often been assumed that Edessa was the staging point for a Christian mission in the region.
The correspondence between Jesus and king Abgar of Edessa is first recounted in the early fourth century;[1312] the legend of Addai/Thaddeus, sent by the apostle Thomas to the city of Edessa, appears during this time as well,[1313] and by the late fourth century, travelers to the city of Edessa could visit the tomb of the apostle Thomas.[1314] Some scholars[1315] have argued, however, that Christianity must have arrived in the area from the east, particularly the region of Adiabene, and that it was through the Jewish community there that the Jesus movement first gained a foothold.The earliest solid evidence for Christianity in the region points both to the city of Edessa and away from it. The late second century saw the appointment of the philosopher Bardaisan to the royal court of Edessa. Bar- daisan’s brand of Christian thought caused later Christians, notably Ephrem, to seethe with anger, but it appears to have been influential in the city. The late but reliable Chronicle of Edessa records a flooding of the city in the year 201 and makes mention of damage to the “church of the Christians,” the earliest mention of a building designated as such. Also in the late second century, though, the bishop Abercius from Phrygia traveled to Christian lands in the east and left an inscription of his travels for his epitaph. While Abercius explicitly mentions a visit to Christians in the city of Nisibis, on the border between Roman and Parthian lands, he is completely silent regarding the city of Edessa.[1316]
Evidence of a Christian presence in the region dates, then, from at least the late second century, although how and where it first arrived remains a mystery.
Early texts from the region also reveal some complexity; although they may survive in Syriac, the native language of the Osrhoene, of which Edessa is the capital, the written language was not finalized until the fourth century.[1317] Early writings that survive in Syriac, while certainly reflecting native ideas and expressions, may have had their language adjusted to conform to later norms. For this reason, texts from the region that survive in Greek sometimes reflect earlier traditions than extant Syriac versions of the same works.The writings of greatest import to our study are the Odes of Solomon, which survives principally in Greek and Syriac; the writings of the Valen- tinian school, which reflect traditions from this region; the writings and thoughts of Bardaisan, as those can be reconstructed;[1318] and the third- century Acts of Thomas, the last of the five early Christian novels and the only one that survives complete. These writings employ allusions to the feminine Spirit, and sometimes make explicit mention of the Spirit as Mother, language that was completely at home in this region of early Semitic Christianity.[1319] This study proceeds through these materials in the order given above, culminating in an analysis of the prayer language in the Acts of Thomas, in which the various elements from other traditions are drawn together and developed. The epicletic prayers in the Acts of Thomas, in particular, are addressed to a revealer figure who resembles the biblical portrait of personified Wisdom as well as the hovering bird of Genesis, who shares in ritual action with her adherents, and who can be addressed with the appellation “Mother.”
The beautiful and enigmatic Odes of Solomon have long been known by name (together with the Psalms of Solomon),[1320] but their contents have been revealed only through various manuscript discoveries over the past two hundred years. The Odes are represented in two Syriac manuscripts,[1321] although Ode 11 survives in Greek,[1322] and part of Ode 19 in Latin (translated from Greek).
The Odes are notoriously difficult to date, but were probably written in the second century;[1323] their original language - Greek or Syriac - is even more uncertain. While the place of composition of the Odes is equally unclear, the most likely locale of origin is the region of Syria.[1324] The earthy language and graphic imagery of the Odes are certainly at home in this region.The Odes clearly conceive of God’s spirit as a feminine entity.[1325] Since the main witnesses to the Odes are in Syriac, it is not surprising to find a feminine noun and feminine verbs referring to her activity. But the images used, as well, especially those recalling the actions of a mother bird, suggest that the Spirit is understood as feminine.
There are many images used of the Spirit in the Odes. She moves, like air through a stringed instrument, through the odist’s members (6:1-2) in order to speak; in love she communicates, offering praise (16:5) and correct teachings (3:10). In this latter aspect she resembles Wisdom, with whom the Spirit is often likened in the Hebrew tradition. The association of the Spirit with praise is found in several Odes; she is praised (6:7, 13:2), but she also leads the odist to praise the Lord (14:8; here again reference is made to a musical instrument). She is associated with salvation, as one who is used to circumcise the heart[1326] (11:2; cf. language of circumcision of the heart in Deut 10:16 and 30:6 and especially its association with the Holy Spirit in Jub. 1:23). The Spirit rests upon the odist (36:1),[1327] and the odist declares that she “lifted me up to the height and set me on my feet,” an image that recalls the words of Ezekiel (2:2 and 3:24), before bringing the odist before God. The Spirit also provides protection and covering (25:8), a claim that is similarly made of the “wings of the Spirit” in Ode 28.
This idea of the Spirit as a bird, developing the image of the bird over the waters of creation in Genesis, seems to be present in two Odes.
Ode 24 opens with the statement that “The dove flew onto the head of the Lord Messiah,[1328] because he was her head. And she cooed over him and her voice was heard.” The dove appears here as “servant and messenger,”[1329] a role played by doves in antiquity, and perhaps recalls the presence of the Spirit as a dove at the baptism of Jesus. The resemblance to the dove of the gospels ends, however, with mention of the dove’s cooing, a vocalization to be expected of doves and perhaps part of the delivery of a message. At any rate, the dove’s communication is heard, a claim that inaugurates a period of fear and destruction for those who lack wisdom.If indeed the dove of Ode 24 is understood as the Spirit and reference is made to the baptism of Jesus, then the destruction apparently refers to a sentence of judgment brought by the Messiah. If this is correct, the Ode
here moves well beyond the baptismal story. This is not unlikely, since neither the Messiah (after the first verse, the authoritative figure is always called “the Lord”) nor the dove reappears in the Ode. Only the first verse could be understood to recall the gospel accounts of Jesus’s baptism; if an identification of the dove with the Spirit is intended, there is also a clear subordination of the Spirit to the Messiah.
There is no question that bird imagery is applied to the Spirit in Ode 28, an ode that begins in joy and delight before giving way to darker images of victimization. The ode begins with the declaration, “Like the wings of doves over their nestlings... so also are the wings of the Spirit over my heart.” The dove is not said to “hover” as in Genesis, but the dove instead is caring for young, providing protection, comfort, or warmth. The speaker compares this activity with that of the Spirit, thus recalling the covering provided by the Spirit in Ode 25.[1330] If the speaker is understood as Jesus,[1331] then the Ode reflects the Lukan birth narrative; Michael Lattke suggests[1332] that the nestlings reflect the “two young pigeons” of Luke 2:24, while the babe in its mother’s womb (Ode 28:2b) would clearly refer to Luke 1:44 and Elizabeth’s declaration that the child in her womb leaped for joy.
While this identification is consistent with the language of the Ode, it does not seem to be required. Rather, the speaker may simply describe the comfort and protection of the Spirit’s “wings” and the resultant joy that ensues. What is clear is that the use of dove imagery applied to God’s spirit in Genesis is here developed more fully in the idea of the Spirit as a mother dove caring for her offspring. This image will reappear in the epicleses in the Acts of Thomas as well.The fascinating Ode 19, with its feminine imagery for God, has received much attention from scholars.[1333] The Father has breasts that produce sweet milk and the odist drinks from the proffered cup; the Son is explicitly designated as the cup.[1334] For our purposes, what is most interesting is the role of the Spirit in this ode; she milks the Father’s breasts and later opens her own bosom[1335] in order to mix the milk produced by the Father’s breasts. The Spirit then, in phrases that recall the prologue to the Gospel of John, offers the mixture to the world, which does not know it.[1336] The ode begins by alluding to the Son who is the cup that is drunk, but the image changes when the Spirit mixes the milk from the Father’s breasts. A virgin conceives and later gives birth. Although the Syriac seems to suggest that the virgin catches the “mixture” (reflecting gospel infancy narratives), Lattke argues convincingly, based on the quotation of this section by Lactantius, that this is not the original reading. Rather, as the Latin suggests, the virgin’s womb was weakened and she conceived. The virgin’s role as mother and her painless childbearing constitute the next sections of the ode. While not made explicit, the virgin may in fact refer to the Spirit of holiness, who therefore brings the child into the world.[1337] If the child is understood to be the “Son” (the name of Jesus appears nowhere in the Odes), this would correspond with other images that we have seen in which the Spirit is designated as Mother and is even referred to as the mother of “the Savior.”[1338] The imagery of Ode 19 is thus relatively consistent, but striking. The Father in this ode appears with breasts that offer nourishment; elsewhere (Ode 8:14) it is the odist, or perhaps Christ,[1339] who offers breasts full of holy milk.
In Ode 14:2-3, the breasts of the odist are linked with an appeal for mercy and kindness, gifts associated with the cup of milk and the presence of God in Ode 19.The bosom of the Father appears also in a work stemming from Valentinan Christianity, the Gospel of Truth.[1340] Written in the middle of the second century,[1341] the Gospel of Truth shares several themes with the Odes of Solomon, including the emphasis on knowledge and the truth that is revealed, allusions to crowning, the joy that results from union with God, as well as this mention of the Father’s bosom. Like Ode 19, the Gospel of Truth makes an association between the Father’s bosom and the Holy Spirit: “The Father reveals his bosom. --- Now his bosom is the Holy Spirit. --He reveals what is hidden of him --- what is hidden of him is his Son” (24.9-14). Apparently, the Holy Spirit is that which allows the Son, hidden in the Father, to be revealed. This is supported by another passage in the Gospel of Truth, in which “truth” is said to be the “mouth of the Father” while the Father’s “tongue is the Holy Spirit.” Indeed, whoever is “joined to the truth is joined to the Father’s mouth by his tongue, whenever he is to receive the Holy Spirit, since this is the manifestation of the Father and his revelation to his aeons” (26.28-27.7). The way to receive truth is to be joined to the Father by the Holy Spirit, and reception of the Spirit is required for receiving revelation. The idea of the Spirit as revealer of hidden truths will reappear in spirit epicleses of the Acts of Thomas.
Like the Gospel of Truth, the Gospel of Philip also stems from Valentin- ian Christianity[1342] and shares with the Odes of Solomon an affinity with the traditions of northern Mesopotamia.[1343] Valentinus and Valentinian Christians were apparently familiar with some early form of the Thomas traditions, and joined a system of thought emphasizing gnosis with Mesopotamian Christianity. Some elements of the Gospel of Philip are especially striking when compared with the traditions seen in other works from the region; the understanding of Spirit as feminine is one aspect of agreement.
Although not grammatically feminine in the Coptic of the Gospel of Philip,[1344] the Spirit is clearly conceived as feminine: “Some said, ‘Mary conceived by the Holy Spirit.’ They are in error. They do not know what they are saying. When did a woman ever conceive by a woman?” (55.2426). Yet the Spirit is not called “Mother”; indeed, “mother” appearing alone is used for the “Hebrew, orphaned” phase of existence (52.21-24).
The Gospel of Philip has a strong emphasis on rituals through which the Spirit is present and active. The Spirit is associated with warmth and light, but is also present in the ritual bread and cup; the Spirit provides protection and also bestows the name “Christian.”
The intriguing rituals mentioned in the Gospel of Philip have received much attention from scholars, since some of the rituals are familiar from other areas of Christianity in the second and third centuries, while others appear to be unique.[1345] In particular, especially in the areas of the work with greatest affinity to Syriac-speaking Christianity,[1346] baptism and anointing feature prominently and are often linked, both associated with the Holy Spirit: “Through the holy spirit we are indeed begotten again, but we are begotten through Christ in the two. We are anointed through the spirit. When we were begotten we were united. None can see himself either in water or in a mirror without light. Nor again can you see in light without water or mirror. For this reason it is fitting to baptize in the two, in the light and the water. Now the light is the chrism” (69.4-14).[1347] This light is also fire (67.26) which is found in chrism (57.27-28), but the chrism is explicitly identified as being superior to baptism:
The chrism is superior to baptism, for it is from the word “chrism” that we have been called “Christians,” certainly not because of the word “baptism.” And it is because of the chrism that “the Christ” has his name. For the father anointed the son, and the son anointed the apostles, and the apostles anointed us. He who has been anointed possesses everything. He possesses the resurrection, the light, the cross, the holy spirit. (74.12-21)
The Holy Spirit shares in the life of the Christian through these rituals, but is especially associated with the anointing. The anointing brings light, a light that is donned by the believer, resulting in the person being able to see as well as becoming “perfect light” (76.26-27), able to flow out to all. To be clothed in the light is to be protected from the powers (70.57). The chrism is that from which comes the resurrection (73.18-19).
The Spirit is also associated with the ritual cup in the Gospel of Philip: “The cup of prayer contains wine and water, since it is appointed as the type of the blood for which thanks is given. And it is full of the holy spirit, and it belongs to the wholly perfect man. When we drink this, we shall receive for ourselves the perfect man” (75.14-21). Sharing in the rituals of chrismation and of the cup brings the Spirit into the individual’s life, thus transforming and protecting the person.
The association of the Spirit with oil is also clear in the prayer in chapter 27 of the Acts of Thomas, a prayer to the Spirit as Mother that is set within the context of an anointing ritual. In the Acts of Thomas the Spirit is also called upon to be present with the believers in the ritual of Eucharist (chapter 50), a ritual that is mentioned in the Gospel of Philip. As we shall see, the themes that appear in this earlier work with ties to Syriac-speaking Christianity are developed and expanded in the Acts of Thomas.
The literature of the Valentinian Gnostic school of thought, then, also includes several elements common to Syriac-speaking Christianity, including feminine imagery for God. Hidden truths are revealed precisely through feminine qualities given to God and identified with the Spirit. The Spirit is not explicitly called Mother, however, nor is the language grammatically feminine.
With the person of Bardaisan, we have an identifiable figure who was prominent in the royal court of Edessa late in the second century. Bar- daisan’s theological claims are known primarily from his detractors, most notably the fourth-century Ephrem.[1348] It is unclear how much Ephrem is reflecting the thought of Bardaisan himself and how much of his anger is actually directed to contemporary Bardesanites. For example, Bardaisan claims to accept the idea of a single God,[1349] but Ephrem clearly ascribes to Bardaisan himself the idea of a divine pair of Mother and Father. In his Hymns against Heresies, Ephrem declares that Bardaisan “considered Sun and Moon; with the Sun he compared the Father, with the Moon he compared the Mother, male and female Gods and their children.”[1350] Ephrem’s understanding of Bardaisan includes the idea that the Father and Mother, while spiritual, are united sexually,[1351] and thus create a “paradise of shame”: “The Father with the Mother, by their sexual union they founded it, they planted it with their descendants.”[1352] This paradise is both the Garden of Life and, “at the same time, the Bridal chamber of light to which the souls return.”[1353] The union of the Father and Mother also produces a son. Ephrem declares that Bardaisan “called our Lord the child that was produced by two, through sexual union.”[1354]
When actually quoting the Bardesanites, however, Ephrem’s evidence regarding sexual union is less clear. He reaches the above conclusion because the Bardesanites sing, “Something flowed down from the Father of Life and the mother became pregnant with the mystery of the fish and bore him. And he was called the Son of Life.”[1355] The hymn could indeed suggest sexual activity but does not explicitly claim it. What is clear is that it recognizes a complexity to the divine, a complexity that includes the idea of a “Mother.”
It is not entirely clear if Bardaisan’s idea of the Mother is to be equated with the Spirit. But Ephrem seems to draw a connection between the two. In the midst of a discussion about the Father and Mother in Bardaisan’s thought, Ephrem notes the Bardesanite claim that the Holy Spirit “bore two daughters.” These two are apparently twins and are called “the blush of the earth and the image of the water.”[1356] This language recalls the presence of the Spirit in the creation story in Genesis, in which the Spirit, hovering over the waters, takes on characteristics of a mother bird over her nest. We have seen that the Syriac term rahheph, used of the Spirit’s activity in Syriac translations of Genesis 1, is precisely the term that indicates the “hovering” of a mother bird.[1357]
Ephrem himself completely rejects the idea that the ruah/ruha hovering over the waters in Gen 1:2 is to be understood as God’s spirit.[1358] His rejection of this idea of the hovering Spirit at creation may stem from his dislike for a perceived sexual interpretation on the part of the Bardesanites and his attempts to defend monotheism. In his Commentary on Genesis, Ephrem claims that the hovering does not produce anything (only on the fifth day are creatures brought forth from the water),[1359] but it is the possibility of an “incubating spirit” in Gen 1:2, apparently understood in sexual terms by the Bardensanites, that especially offends Ephrem. In addition, against Bardaisan’s recognition of primordial elements in the world and his affirmation of spiritual guides, Ephrem argues that God alone is crea- tor.[1360] Ephrem seems to know that Bardaisan’s guides were planets and were themselves created by God, but he is apparently reacting to later Bardesanite readings of the Genesis creation story that he understood to threaten the omnipotence of God.[1361]
C.