The Latins break open the tombs of the emperors in Constantinople

The history of Nicetas Choniates ends with a mournful description of the damage done to the city of Constantinople by the victorious Latins in 1204.  It seems to describe events well after the initial capture and sack of the city.

The following is very interesting:

Exhibiting from the very outset, as they say, their innate love of gold, the plunderers of the queen city conceived a novel way to enrich themselves while escaping everyone’s notice. They broke open the sepulchers of the emperors which were located within the Heroon erected next to the great temple of the Disciples of Christ [Holy Apostles] and plundered them all in the night, taking with utter lawlessness whatever gold ornament, or round pearls, or radiant, precious, and incorruptible gems that were still preserved within.

Finding that the corpse of Emperor Justinian [d.648] had not decomposed through the long centuries, they looked upon the spectacle as a miracle, but this in no way prevented them from keeping their hands off the tomb’s valuables. In other words, the Western nations spared neither the living nor the dead, but beginning with God and his servants, they displayed complete indifference and irreverence to all.

Not long afterwards, they pulled down the ciborium of the Great Church that weighed many tens of thousands of pounds of the purest silver and was thickly overlaid with gold.[1]

All the emperors of the East, from Constantine the Great onwards, were buried in the Church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople.  The church was pulled down after 1453 by the Moslems, and a mosque built in its place.  I believe that some of the porphyry sarcophagi of the emperors can still be seen at the archaeological museum, although I have not seen this myself.

But I had never realised that the tombs were actually looted by the Latins after their capture of the city in 1204.

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  1. [1]Nicetas Choniates, Annals, translated as O City of Byzantium: Annals of Niketas Choniates, tr. H.J. Margoulias, 1984, p.357.

From my diary

I’ve managed to read Diez’ article on al-Makin ibn Amid, the largely unpublished 13th century Arabic Christian historian.  It’s a cracker!  It is, indeed, the new entrance-point to all the literature on the subject.  It also – ahem – mentions this blog.

I’ll post some more about this in due course.  But I did start thinking … surely the first thing to do is to get a text of al-Makin into electronic form and get it on the web?  I wonder how this might be done, at a reasonable price?

I wish I could think of a way to get hold of the edition printed in Cairo a few years ago!

UPDATE: I have just spent an hour trying to locate copies — some may be found in the UK in www.copac.ac.uk by searching on the editor, Ali Bakr Hassan — and placing an ILL when I suddenly remembered, rather embarassingly … that I have met Dr Hassan, at Oxford some years ago, when he was so kind as to give me a copy of it.  A little searching and I have it in my hand.  I must be getting old or daft.  I have a vague memory — you can tell how good my memory is right now! —  that his edition only covers part of the work, however.

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Ehrman on Epiphanius and the Borborites – some notes

We have now gone through all the ancient evidence concerning the gnostic cult known as the Borborites (here).  This includes the long chapter (26) in the Panarion of Epiphanius in which he recounts their practices, says something about their mythology, and tells us of his own personal encounter with the group.

The time has now come to review what Bart Ehrman has to say about it, in his recent book Forgery and counterforgery.  After all, the comments about Epiphanius, in the review copy sent to me, are the reason why we looked into this in the first place![1]  Now that I know what the data is, I can discuss his ideas about it.

Ehrman’s argument can be summarised very briefly as follows.  He argues that the account of the Borborites given by Epiphanius is factually wrong.  He then highlights that Epiphanius claims personal knowledge of the cult, and uses this to “show” that Epiphanius must be lying.  Once he has convicted Epiphanius of lying, he then dismisses the quotations from gnostic texts in Epiphanius as being forgeries.  On this basis, he calls Epiphanius a forger.  He then takes this forward into the rest of the book as evidence of early Christian dishonesty.

Of course an argument stated so baldly may misrepresent the author.  I don’t believe that I have done so, however.  E.’s treatment of the subject is itself brief, and a good proportion of it is given  over to summarising what Epiphanius says.   It would have been better, tho, if E. had given the text and translation of chapter 26 in his book, perhaps as an appendix, so that the reader could decide for himself whether Epiphanius was saying what E. suggests.  But E.’s summary of the chapter is fair enough.

All the same, regardless of the subject, an argument of that form raises doubts in my mind.  This kind of argument is the sort made by a prosecutor, not a scholar.

A couple of other red flags spring out. It is fairly obvious that a man may be wrong, without being dishonest.  Further, a dishonest man who is writing a polemic against a hated foe will not necessarily compose fake quotations.  My own experience of such a process, examining just such a book eleven years ago, revealed a host of errors, but all of them consisted of repeating uncritically from others, or else taking out of context.  Surely it is obvious that the polemicist would prefer to use true quotations?

On the face of it, then, the argument has difficulties.  But we are not here to chop logic.  If E. has not made his argument very well, that is not our concern.  The question remains; is it true that Epiphanius  lied about the Borborites and forged supposed quotes from their books?  This we need to investigate.

I have already examined Epiphanius’ account here, and I came to no such conclusion.  So what does E. know, that did not strike me when examining the data?

We need to review what E. says for his argument.

E. discusses Panarion 26 on p.19-24.  He claims that Epiphanius composed the quotations from gnostic texts which appear within chapter 26.  He gives the quotation of the Greater Questions of Mary, given by Epiphanius, and asks whether such a text actually existed.  On p.21 he enters what he considers is the main question: how reliable is Epiphanius as a source?

Here a red flag comes up.  The question is a perfectly reasonable one to ask about any ancient source.  But there are pitfalls in this, and indeed E. falls squarely into one.

Scholars in the 19th century became notorious in the 20th century for le hyperscepticisme, for debunking material selectively where a piece of data was inconvenient to the theory being advanced.  The conclusions reached often have been overturned since.  Texts dismissed as forgeries have been found in the sands of Egypt.  We must never confuse data with deduction, nor must we selectively ignore unwelcome portions of texts that we use without question elsewhere.  For E. to question the reliability of Epiphanius is entirely in order; so long as his argument does not then use Epiphanius as a source himself, or treat material by him as reliable when convenient.

Anyway, E. introduces the question by an appeal to authority:

The prior question is whether Epiphanius’ description of the activities of the group is at all plausible. Historians have long treated Epiphanius in general with a healthy dose of skepticism.[26]

And then responds to historians who do not think so with:

[These arguments] may just as well show that he has invented a set of scandalous rituals imagined as appropriate to the nefarious theology of the group. How would we know?

It is a reasonable, if somewhat morose question.  Similar questions can be asked about every ancient text on every subject whatever, of course.  But the question is not answered.

Instead, as if answering it, E. moves on to query the reliability of the account:

One obvious place to start is with Epiphanius’ sources of information. Because he had some contact with the group as a young man–was nearly seduced into it–it is sometimes claimed that he had special access to their liturgical practices. But this is scarcely plausible. Epiphanius indicates that he spurned the advances of the two attractive Phibionite women before being drawn into their orb. This must mean that he was never present for any of the ritual activities. And it defies belief that missionaries would inform outsiders about the scandalous and reprehensible activities of the group before they were admitted into the inner circle. Potential converts were not likely to be won over by accounts of ritualistic consumption of fetuses.

These are reasonable questions by themselves, although Epiphanius tells us that he spent rather more time with the cult and with their books than the reader may realise from E.’s comment.  But it is certainly true that Epiphanius did not take part in the rituals he describes.  The inference that this means that he had no certain knowledge is problematical; we don’t know this.  The appeal to what we today find credible, however, seems unsatisfactory; what we want, surely, is data.  In its absence, we must refuse to reach conclusions.

Fortunately we do have some evidence on this.   The Nag Hammadi texts confirm some of the “liturgical practices” recorded by Epiphanius, as we have seen.   But E. does not reference this, although he does reference Benko’s article which quotes it.  This is a slip-up.

So far, then, we have very little.  E. has said that Epiphanius’ account “defies belief”, and points out that Epiphanius’ status as eyewitness extends only to talking to cultists and reading their books.  The former point we must reject; the latter seems reasonable enough.  None of this proves Epiphanius a liar and forger, however.  But E. is not done yet.

Next, E. suggests that, because other Christian writers have recorded libertine gnostic cults, that it must be a piece of common rhetoric rather than anything factual.  The point of this is to infer that Epiphanius must have done the same.

There are several problems here.

Firstly, it is always unwise to rush into explaining why people are wrong before we have established that they are indeed mistaken.  E. does not offer evidence that all of these writers are mistaken.  Until he does, their testimony is data in the historical record.  To offer an explanation of why they were all so silly as to say it – that they were conforming to a stereotype – and then class Epiphanius with them, seems like placing the cart before the horse.

Secondly, it seems odd for E. to suggest that there are no such things as groups of religious libertines.  We all know different.  Some of the 60’s cults were libertine; the Children of God and the followers of Bagwan Shree Rajneesh come instantly to mind, and one recalls such a group being mentioned by John Wesley.  A long list of antinomians could probably be provided.  No doubt a list of false accusations could also be supplied.  Whether a given group is of this kind must be resolved by investigation.

However E. does indeed have a reason to suppose that the Fathers are mistaken about the gnostics; he merely hasn’t given it yet.  After a page of not-very-useful commentary, his reasoning appears on p.24, and it is worth quoting in full:

The proto-orthodox heresiologists uniformly assumed that since various Gnostic groups demeaned the material world and bodily existence within it, they had no difficulty in demeaning the body. Moreover, since for Gnostics the body was irrelevant for ultimate salvation, reasoned the heresiologists, then the body could be used and abused at will. And so, for their opponents, the Gnostics engaged in all sorts of reprehensible bodily activities, precisely to demonstrate their antimaterialist theology.

This heresiological commonplace has been effectively refuted in modern times. The one thing the Nag Hammadi library has shown about Gnostic ethics is that the heresiologists from Irenaeus (and no doubt before) to Epiphanius (and certainly after) got the matter precisely wrong. Many Gnostic groups did devalue the body. But that did not lead them to flagrant acts of immorality. On the contrary, since the body was the enemy and was to be escaped, the body was to be treated harshly. One was not to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh precisely because the goal was to escape the trappings of the flesh. The Nag Hammadi treatises embody a decidedly ascetic ideal, just the opposite of what one would expect from reading the polemics of the proto-orthodox and orthodox heresiologists.

The argument may be summarised as follows.  (A) the Nag Hammadi library is representative of all gnosticism (b) any opinion not included in it was never held by any gnostic (c) the Nag Hammadi library reflects ascetic ideas and (d) that proves that all the early Christian writers who describe libertine gnostic practices are wrong and lying.

Now arguments that absence of evidence is evidence of absence are notoriously weak.  But in the first place, we must ask whether there is any reason why we should suppose that the contents of the Nag Hammadi library are anything but a selection, one assembled by a person or persons unknown for purposes unknown, some time in the 4th century AD?  It is not clear why the collection ‘must’ be designed to reflect the entire width of gnosticism, useful as such a selection would be for modern students of gnosticism.

For if it is not, then E.’s argument collapses immediately.  Unless we know for sure that it is indeed representative of all cults from the second century to the fourth, again E.’s argument collapses.  Unfortunately the book simply skates over these problems.  But we cannot.  Can we find anything to make this argument work?

What do we know about the collection?  The origin of the jar containing the books found at Nag Hammadi is not known.  But we do know that Pachomian monasteries in Egypt in the 4-5th c. had some wild stuff on their shelves.  And there was a Pachomian monastery, not far from the find site.  We know because letters from Shenoute and others exist, condemning the practise or even recording episcopal calls for purges of libraries (the references do not come to hand).

But if the books did indeed come from a Pachomian monastery – although we do not know this -, then it would hardly be surprising to find that such a collection was rather ascetic in outlook.  This origin is an alternative to E.’s proposal, and is better, in that, while still speculative, it is based on some actual evidence from the period.

We have already seen that the Nag Hammadi documents, far from  being silent on the Borborites, do indeed mention them.

In short, E.’s argument that no such gnostic groups exist fails.  The gnostics say that they did, the Christians say that they did, and our own experience of New Age groups tell us that people do such things.

But let us return to E.’s argument.  He believes that E.’s description of the Borborites is fiction.  Because Epiphanius states it, that makes Epiphanius a liar, since he claims to know personally.  And, somehow, this makes him a forger too.  But we have yet to see anything very solid in this direction.

But by this point he is almost done! For we are now at the foot of p.23.  And in fact he has nothing more to offer: only his conclusion, which we may give here:

Epiphanius almost certainly fabricated the accounts of these activities: he had never seen them, no one from within the group would have told him about them, they could not have been described in their other literature, and they stand at odds with what we do know of the ethical impulses of all other Gnostic groups from antiquity. On these grounds I would propose that Epiphanius made up the account of the Greater Questions of Mary. The Phibionites may have had a long-lived reputation for scurrilous activities – thus Gero – but if they were like every other Gnostic group for which we have firsthand knowledge – and why would they not be? – then their antimaterialist theology did not lead to socially scandalous and illegal promiscuity, but to ascetic dismissal of the passions of the flesh. The conclusion seems inevitable: Epiphanius got the matter precisely wrong and then fabricated his accounts, and at least one document, in order to make his point.

And that’s it.  That’s the end of E.’s discussion of Epiphanius.  He doesn’t even attempt to explain why Epiphanius’ statements make him a forger, but just “propose”s it.

It is all very well to assert that Epiphanius was wrong about the Borborites – a  group of people whom even E. accepts he knew personally – and then that that he fabricated the texts he quotes.   But the value of such claims is very low indeed.

We have already looked at Epiphanius’ chapter, and evaluated what we might make of it.  To some extent it is impossible for us to be sure what to t hink.  We are in no sense obliged to believe that every word in it is accurate, nor witnessed personally by Epiphanius.  I think it is a great mistake to strain the words of a man of that generation for evidence that he is, or is not, attesting personally every line of a text writing down the memories of 30 years earlier.   But that he wrote honestly seems beyond doubt.  He records a peculiar and disgusting libertine group, of a kind known elsewhere in history, and whose pecularity is attested in gnostic texts also.

One final point.  I have drawn attention above to the dangers of using texts selectively.  There is a nemesis that awaits those who do so.

There is another chapter in Epiphanius, where he quotes extensively from the books of a cult whom he knew slightly himself: the Ebionites.  The material is very valuable.  Rightly it is used without question in a book discussing them, by Bart Ehrman himself, who adds of the quotations, “we should like to have more.”[2]  Indeed we should.  But a writer can hardly be abused as a fraud and liar in one book, only to be used as a reliable source in another.

This is the peril that any of us can fall into, once we start on the dangerous road of finding excuses to ignore, in an ancient writer, what is inconvenient for our own theories.  In the end this perhaps explains E.’s treatment of Epiphanius: E. had a book to write, and used Epiphanius too hastily and without sufficient consideration of the facts.

NOTE: I have revised this post after rereading it.  It is quite hard to review a thesis that one disagrees with profoundly without ranting, and I felt that the style could usefully be changed accordingly.

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  1. [1]My thanks once more to Oxford University Press for a review copy.
  2. [2]Bart Ehrman, Lost Christianities: The battles for scripture and the faiths we never knew, Oxford University Press, 2005, p.102.

Some Chrysostom, ps.Chrysostom, ps.Athanasius in translation at academia.edu

I’ve just discovered a group of English translations available online here.  All of them are of previously untranslated texts.   Most excitingly (for me), the translator has started on Chrysostom’s letters.

The translations are a work in progress; but very welcome!

More!

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Al-Makin in prison

The Diez article on the 13th century Arabic Christian historian, al-Makin ibn Amid, contains an interesting anecdote from the historian’s life:

A second obscure point in the life of Ibn Amid concerns the period of the attempted Mongol invasion of Syria.  The functionary, who was then at Damascus, was accused of being in contact with the Mongols in order to reveal the secrets of the Mameluke army.  He was therefore thrown in prison in 1261 AD by order of the sultan Baibars, and remained there for more than ten years, before being liberated by the payment of a fine.  The biographer Ibn al-Suqa`i (and al-Safadi with him) attributes his detention to the slander of some envious envious scribe, while a Moslem contemporary, the sheikh Ghazi ibn al-Wasiti, cites the case of Ibn al-Amid as proof of the bad faith of the “dhimmis” which, in his opinion, shows that “it is necessary to seize the goods of the Christians, their wives and their lives, and to leave on the face of the earth neither Christian nor Jew.”

Interestingly the work by Ghazi ibn al-Wasiti exists in English, translated by Richard Gottheil[1]  Let us give Gottheil’s translation:

In the days of the Sultan al-Malik al-Thahir, a lot of sincere Moslems from the country of the Tartars told him that al-Makin ibn al-‘Amid, the Secretary of War, was corresponding with Hulagu in reference to the Egyptian army, its men and its commanders.  Al-Malik al-Thahir had him seized, with the intention of having him put to death. His condition was much worse than that of those who were governed by Christian Emirs-he was confined in prison for more than eleven years. Then, through payments of money, his release was effected. In order to put through this release, it was considered proper by Moslems to seize the property of Christians, their wives and their very lives. In the end, not a single Christian and not a single Jew remained in the land.

The work is well worth reading for a series of anecdotes on Moslem-Christian relations in the Moslem states.

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  1. [1]R. Gottheil, “An answer to the Dhimmis”, Journal of the American Oriental Society 41 (1921), 383-457, esp. 410.  JSTOR.

LACE Greek OCR project

On a better note, we live in blessed times where technology and the ancient world are concerned.  The astonishing results of a project to OCR volumes of ancient Greek from Archive.org may now be found online here.  Clicking on the first entry, and one of the outputs in it here gives astonishingly good results.

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Arrested for saying a word

The BBC has the story, and, curiously, seems to approve.

Two men have been arrested for posting anti-Semitic tweets following Tottenham Hotspur’s match with West Ham. …  Both men were arrested on Thursday on suspicion of inciting racial hatred. … West Ham told supporters that anyone caught behaving in a racist, anti-Semitic or homophobic way would be punished to the full extent of the law. … Police had warned fans before the fixture not to use the word “yid” and said supporters who did so could be committing a crime.

The claims about “inciting hatred” are just words for “saying something we disagree with”.  Nobody seriously supposes it has any other meaning. Nobody is threatened.  Nobody is in fear.

Once laws permit officials to act oppressively, they do so.  Indeed they enlarge and expand the area of their authority.  Officials gain credit and advance their careers by “smelling out” ever more examples of whatever they have been told to detect and punish.  Informers spring up, and informations are laid out of grudges.  This is what official bigotry means; passing laws whose inevitable consequence is to allow such a process.

By a curious coincidence I was reading a 19th century history of the Spanish Inquisition this week.[1]  This documented the same process; officials, once they could act to strain men’s brains, took ever more liberties and extended this ever more.  The long drawn-out trial of the Archbishop of Seville, who had attended the Council of Trent, debated with Lutherans and himself had burned heretics, ended only with his death.  The long-drawn out political trial, designed to punish rather than do justice, has made an unpleasant return in our own days.

When I started writing about freedom of speech online, it was because I could see the likelihood of such a censorship being brought in.  Even so the pace of it has been astonishing.  The establishment have taken few pains to curb the spammers who fill the comments of this blog with rubbish; but they have been red-hot about ensuring that nobody who holds views that they strongly dislike shall be allowed to speak.

These are sad days in Britain.  We live under a shadow of hate and intolerance deeply embedded in the ruling castes of every nation.  I pray that we may live to see freedom once more.

UPDATED (later):  Via Twitter and the Birmingham Mail I learn of the arrest of a man for a joke comparing Nelson Mandela to his laptop.  He was held for 8 hours, “questioned”, and had his DNA taken.  What offence he is claimed to have committed is not disclosed.

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  1. [1]1826.  On Google books here.

From my diary

Is it just me, or is everyone frenetically busy right now?  For myself, it’s ridiculous; every day seems to bring an interesting or important email (or three) that I simply must deal with.  Often the issue is something well worth blogging about as well.   So suddenly I find myself snowed under.

This week the new book — Origen’s Homilies on Ezekiel, plus fragments — is bing typeset.  It’s nearly all set up in Adobe Indesign, and looking very good.  I suspect that by the weekend it will be complete.  I shall then have to set up a project in Lulu.com and print a proof copy, to check the PDF and see how it looks in bound form.  I shall also have to get the cover design done.  “Something more green than blue” is as far as I have got.  Then I can get it set up at Lightning Source and formally published.

I don’t know that the book will sell all that many copies.  But of course the object is to get it online.  So whatever sales it makes will help to defray the costs, and whatever loss it makes is one that I can cope with.  Sometime in 2014 I think it will go online.

UPDATE: One slightly embarassing probem with the project has been my own inability to spell “Ezekiel”.  I have often given it as “Ezechiel”, influenced by the French translation of Borret, and the Latin Selecta in Ezechielem.  Today I went through old posts and fixed all that I could find.  It is horrifying to discover that this project was in full flight in … 2009!!!  I was much younger then, or at least I felt so.  Those posts make clear that I never expected this to last more than 4 years!

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Epiphanius and the veil – a 4th century attitude to images

While searching for old commentary on Epiphanius and the Borborites, I stumbled across something even more interesting.

In The Catholic Layman in 1853[refTwo articles are referenced: ]”The Story of St. Epiphanius and the Veil”, The Catholic Layman, 2.17 (1853), 50, 56.[/ref] appear a couple of quotations from Epiphanius.

The first (p.56) appears in a discussion of purgatory.

… we refer to Epiphanius’s letter to John, bishop of Jerusalem* (works, vol. ii., p. 314, Paris, 1622) in which, after calling Origen the father of Arius, and the root of other heresies, he goes on: “And this, too, which he maintains, I know not whether to grieve or laugh at ; for this excellent teacher, Origen, dares to teach that the Devil will again be what he was once, and will return to the same dignity, and will ascend the kingdom of heaven!  O shocking!  Who can be so senseless and so foolish as to believe that John the Baptist, and Peter, and John the Apostle, and Isaiah, and Jeremiah, and the rest of the prophets shall be co-heirs with the Devil in the kingdom of God ?”

The second (p.50) is more interesting still:

Having had occasion, in another column, page 56, to quote the letter of St. Epiphanius to John of Jerusalem, we give here, according to our promise, an extract which will explain some of the circumstances which gave rise to the letter.

“I heard that some are murmuring against me, for the following reason:-

When we were going together, to the holy place, which is called Bethel, that I might there hold a service with you, according to the ecclesiastical custom, and when I had come to the village called Anablatha, I saw, as I was passing by, a light burning there.  So I asked what place it was, and, being told that it was a church, I entered in, to pray there; and I found there a veil, hanging on the doors of the same church, dyed and painted, and having the likeness of Christ, I believe, or of some saint or other, for I don’t exactly remember whose likeness it was.

So, when I saw this–the likeness of a man hanging in the church of Christ, contrary to the authority of the Scriptures–I tore it, and I gave directions to the keepers of the place, to roll up some poor dead person in it, and bury him in it.

But they murmured against me, and said, ‘If you wished to tear our veil, it would be only right that you should give us another in exchange for it.’  So, when I heard this, I acknowledged that it was reason.able, and promised that I would give it, and would send one forthwith. Some delay, however, has taken place, because I was anxious to send a very good veil, instead of it, for I thought I ought to send one from Cyprus [his own diocese]; but now I send the best veil I could find, and I beg you will give directions, to the priests of that place, to’ take it from bearer, and will give orders that no veils of that kind, which are contrary to our religion, should henceforth be hung up in the church of Christ, for it becomes you to be more careful to take away this cause of offence, which is unworthy of the church of Christ, and of the people who have been committed to you.”

It’s worth noting that Epiphanius was not on the best of terms with John of Jerusalem.   But evidently this was something of no relevance to their disagreement.

I shall have to locate that letter in full and see what else it says.

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Summing up the ancient accounts of the Borborites-Phibionites

Now that we have access to all the relevant ancient sources, we can see what they say about this gnostic group, the Borborites or Phibionites, and evaluate what Epiphanius has to say a bit better.

The sources, in chronological order, are:

That’s a reasonably impressive dossier of data.  A couple of points may be noted.

Firstly, the existence of this teaching, which involved those following it consuming human seed and menses, is witnessed (and condemned) by the two gnostic texts listed first.  The date of these is uncertain, but they have both been assigned to the 3rd c. AD.  Probably the teaching is older still.

Secondly Ephraim the Syrian is aware of the group, even though he died before Epiphanius wrote his Panarion.  Ephraim’s testimony is independent of Epiphanius, therefore.

Thirdly, the events graphically described by Epiphanius took place when he was a young man — possibly a very young man.  Epiphanius died in 403 AD, and was born some time after 310 AD.  He became bishop in 367 AD.  So his encounter with them should be dated to 330 AD or perhaps a bit later, at the end of the reign of Constantine I or the beginning of that of Constantius II.  Epiphanius’ account was written down some 40 years after the events took place, and in a world that had become perceptibly different in many ways.  He also describes the involvement of the church authorities in rooting out the heretics from the congregation, so the matter was clearly public knowledge at the time.

Ephraim’s knowledge of a depraved group called the Borborites, who seem to be purely Egyptian, is perhaps explained by the hypothesis that there was a public scandal featuring the group when Epiphanius was young, and the gossip about the dreadful practices of the Borborites circulated widely in the East at that time.  In this way the (limited) knowledge displayed by Ephraim is explained.

Filaster’s account may be disregarded as secondary, I think.  We know from Augustine that the Panarion of Epiphanius was being read in the west, and it seems unnecessary to suppose that a Borborite group had appeared anywhere that an Italian bishop could obtain independent knowledge of it.  Filaster tells us nothing, in any event.  Likewise the Theodosian code tells us nothing except that the compiler had access to a compendium of heresies.

The accounts of Theodoret and Epiphanius are different in kind.  Epiphanius does not give us a systematic picture of the cosmological mythology of the group, whereas Theodoret does.  The very rambling account of Epiphanius is devoted instead mainly to their practices, which Theodoret passes over very briefly with the words:

So who is thrice-unhappy as to their mystical rites as to wish to utter orally the things that they have performed? For all the things done as divine works by those men transcend every immoral conception and every abominable thought. And to speak the name is sufficient to hint at their all-abominable adventure. For the Borboriani were so called because of this.

This could be derived from Epiphanius.  But the remainder of Theodoret’s text is based on independent information, so it seems unnecessary to suppose borrowing as well.  The only question we might ask is whether we are certain that Theodoret is addressing the same group as Epiphanius.

Let’s now consider what Epiphanius says about this group.

The account given by Epiphanius in the Panarion is quite rambling.  It’s not altogether coherent, and it is quite repetitious, where the same idea is illustrated again and again from a different angle.  Speculating for a moment, I wonder whether perhaps we are dealing with a verbal account, written down by a scribe, rather than a formal literary composition?  It is also quite difficult to read.  The reader may find it rather easier to gain a sense of the whole chapter from the version that I posted earlier, sans footnotes, than from turning the pages of the printed text.

Epiphanius labels this group “gnostics” – we may speculate that this is what they called themselves -, and then gives a series of further names for them, of which “Borborites” seems to be the most obvious for us to use.  He begins by telling us that the group are libertines, and that they have composed various forged texts in the names of apostles, supposedly quoting Jesus (Pan.26.3.1), which themselves advocate fornication.  Interestingly he states that they include elements of pagan myth borrowed from Aphrodite.  He describes, as little as may be, their meetings in which the seed and menses are consumed and in which fornication takes place.  He also states that, at least once, they procured an abortion and ate the body of the dead baby (5).  They use both Old Testament and New, but only use the OT selectively as convenient.

They revere the female archon Barbelo; and have books of Mary; and it was women of the cult that Epiphanius himself met and who tried to recruit him.  In fact, on reading this, I was reminded of New Age groups, and in fact began to wonder whether this was a cult where women were in control.  I am told that in the “swinging” scene in California, such groups are controlled by the women, and I speculate that the group dynamics that led to this might also be relevant here?

It is well-known that Epiphanius was an eye-witness of these matters:

For I happened on this sect myself, beloved, and was actually taught these things in person, out of the mouths of people who really undertook them. Not only did women under this delusion offer me this line of talk, and divulge this sort of thing to me.    …  after reading their books, understanding their real intent …., (9) I lost no time reporting them … I indicated before that I have encountered some of the sects, though I know some from documentary sources, and some from the instruction and testimony of trustworthy men who were able to tell me the truth. So here too … I … have shown what this one of the sects which came my way is like. And I could speak plainly of it because of things which I did not do—heaven forbid!—but which <I knew> by learning them in exact detail from persons who were trying to convert me to this and did not succeed.

All this seems plain enough.  Yet the testimony of Epiphanius has often been impugned, and for obvious reasons.  For his description of a communion ritual which involves fornication and eating babies is uncomfortably like the accusation made against the Christians, and rebutted by Athenagoras (c.31-36) and Tertullian (Apol. 7).  Origen tells us that Jews accused Christians of immorality and eating babies (Contra Celsum 6, 27).  Mandaean heretics also accused Christians of ritual horrors (Right Ginza IX = Lidzbarski 227, 8 ff.).[1]

In turn similar accusations are made against Montanists by Epiphanius (Pan. 48.14.6) and Cyril of Jerusalem (Cat. 16, 18), although queried by Jerome (Ep. 41, 4.1) and in Praedestinatus (chap. 26).   Augustine accuses the Manichaeans of the same in De haeresibus 46.  Even Tertullian, as a Montanist, accuses some Catholics of immoral agapes (De ieiunio 17).[2]  (It might be interesting to compile all of these on a single page)

We know very well that Christians do not do such things and never did.  Since the accusations to which Athenagoras replies are clearly malicious, the argument goes, plainly this accusation is merely a rhetorical trope, rather like accusations of “hate” in our own day.  It is designed to play upon the emotions of the hearer, rather than to convey factual information.

There is obviously a problem with this argument.  If the argument is reduced to the form “some accusations of this type are false, therefore all such accusations are false” , we can see it clearly: that type of argument is unsound in general.  But we are not here, however, to chop logic, and it is true that hate-literature has certain characteristics of its own.

Let’s set that to one side for a moment.  The idea of ritual immorality may have seemed improbable to Victorian scholars, but we are less fortunately situated.  There are few ancient immoralities not practised in modern California, if we can believe press reports.  Nor need we question that some people would eat human refuse, for the same reason.  And although I know of no examples of people eating dead babies, a court case found one revolting individual guilty of obtaining aborted babies, freeze-drying them and turning the corpses into ear-rings.[3]  Like Epiphanius, I find myself reluctant to document modern parallels, for fear of injury to myself and my readers, so I will look no further.

In the end these claims are inscrutable.  We have no more evidence than we started with as to whether X or Y did, or did not, eat babies and practice fornication in their assemblies.  We can discuss whether these accounts are “credible”; but I see no easy way to ensure that such discussions are more than “I can’t really imagine that this is true”, without more data.

Returning to Epiphanius, we might observe that his most controversial statements are mostly confirmed by the texts from Nag Hammadi.   Perhaps we may suppose that the story he was told about the aborted baby was just that; a story circulating in the group.  He does not tell us that he witnessed it.  In fact he tells us that he witnessed “this line of talk”.  Whether the story was true or not we cannot now say.  Whether, after thirty years, this story was actually told to him by the gnostics, or whether he misremembered and it was part of the scandal at the time, we cannot tell.  Whether we should treat his rambling statements as something equivalent to a modern scholar writing for peer review and stating that he is the exclusive source of all that he states; or whether we should treat it as more like a modern journalist, working from one source and sticking in whatever else he can find, we cannot know.  The latter seems more likely to me.  Ordinary people often do this.  Whether … but we have moved into the realm of speculation.

Let me offer a little more speculation.   It seems possible that the aborted baby-eating story really does reflect something real, something tried once and found revolting and not done again, and told to the young Epiphanius (and quite possibly misunderstood by him).  Life was cheap.  Those involved in ancient magic might do horrible things, and at the low end of society, there might not be a great distance between a gnostic, a sorceror, or a wandering sophist-cum-conman.  We are entirely familiar today with those who try to push the boundaries, to gain notoriety.   But then again … maybe it was just a cheap rumour, circulating at the time, and included willy-nilly by Epiphanius.

At this time of day we cannot tell.  In the end, his statement cannot be confirmed or refuted.  Perhaps we should simply leave it at that.

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  1. [1]Most of us are not familiar with Mandaean literature.  The “Right Ginza” is mentioned in the Wikipedia article, which links to Lidzbarki’s German translation here.
  2. [2]All these references I take from R. Haardt, Gnosis: Character and Testimony, Brill, 1971, p.69-70.  Preview here.
  3. [3]The newspaper report may be found here.