^{page 41 note 1} Presumably the subject is Jesus, despite the fact that the nearest antecedent is 'ίωάννου. On the other hand, several interpreters have held that the subject of ειδεν is John. See Spitta's suggestion below, p. 43. Also Gressmann, , ‘Die Sage von der Taufe Jesu und die vorderorientalische Taubengöttin,’ A.R.W. XX (1920/1921), 15Google Scholar. In the first edition of Die Geschichte der synoptischen Tradition Bultmann apparently reckoned with this possibility (p. 152); Goguel, criticized it in Jean-Baptiste (Paris, 1928), pp. 144 fGoogle Scholar. In the third edition, Bultmann rejected it (p. 265).

^{page 41 note 2} From this, E. A. Abbott inferred that the dove was not part of the Baptist's vision of the Spirit; see below, p. 43. From Letter to Spirit (London, A. & C. Black, 1903), par. 693.Google Scholar

^{page 41 note 3} E.g. at Mark i. 10 ℵ, a few OL and Origin read ωσ περιστεραν καταβαινον και μενον επ αυτον (many others, including ℜ Α W Θ, agree in reading επ αυτον instead of ειζ αυτον).

^{page 41 note 4} So Hermann Gunkel observed, Zum religionsgeschichtlichen Verständnis des NTs (F.R.L.A.N.T. 1), Göttingen, 1903 (3rd ed. 1930), p. 70Google Scholar (repeated in Das Märchen im Alten Testament, Tübingen, 1921, p. 149Google Scholar), and Barrett, C. K., The Holy Spirit and the Gospel Tradition (London: S.P.C.K. 1947, repr. 1958), p. 35Google Scholar (citing Gunkel).

^{page 42 note 1} Das Leben Jesu als Grundlage einer reinen Geschichte des Urchristentums (Heidelberg, 1828), 2 vols., II, 140.Google Scholar

^{page 42 note 2} Die Taufe Jesu (Theologische Studien der Oesterreichischen Leo-Gesellschaft 35) (Wien, 1936), p. 134.Google Scholar

^{page 42 note 3} C. Holsten argued that Matthew did not think of a real dove but of a fiery light-substance of the Spirit in the form of a dove, as in Acts ii the Spirit took on the form of fiery tongues. ‘Biblischtheologische Studien. IV. Zur Entstehung u. Entwicklung des Messiasbewusstseins Jesu’, Z.W.Th. XXXIV (1891), 401 n. 1 (see also p. 45 n. 1 below).Google Scholar

^{page 42 note 4} Precisely what H. B. Swete had in mind is far from clear: ‘the dove was but a symbol of the Holy Spirit, and it was the Spirit not the dove which descended and abode on the Christ. The dove was the visible sign which drew attention to the illapse of the invisible Spirit; the Spirit was not in the dove, even as afterwards on the Pentecost it was not in the wind or the fire.’ The Holy Spirit in the New Testament (London: Macmillan, 1909), p. 45Google Scholar. In Appended Note A, ‘The Dove as a Symbol of the Holy Spirit’, he wrote, ‘Whether the dove was real or spectacular, it was clearly symbolical of the Spirit which henceforth rested on the humanity of the Lord.’ Scarcely more satisfying is M. É. Boismard's statement that we are not dealing with ‘une simple métaphore; elle corresponde à une realité’. ‘La revelation de l'Esprit-Saint’, Rev. Thom. LV (1955), 12Google Scholar.

^{page 42 note 5} Bultmann has consistently criticized this view because it violates the nature of legend, as Gressmann also insisted (see below); also Goguel objected that this was too modern an alternative: objective or subjective event. Geschichte der synoptischen Tradition, p. 264; Jean-Baptiste, p. 145.Google Scholar

^{page 42 note 6} This is a major objection to Telfer's view; see below, p. 49.

^{page 42 note 7} Das Leben Jesu (Leipzig, 1840), p. 83.Google Scholar

^{page 42 note 8} Appealing to symbolism can lead to extravagant assertions such as those of Ulrich Simon: ‘Christ's baptism is from Heaven by the Spirit (Mark i. 10). The symbolism of the Dove stresses the direction of the flight…The dove…demonstrates the heavenliness of the Son and his eternal unity with God…The dove stands for the lofty freedom of the heavenly God; in winged flight it resembles the “wings of the Spirit” (Odes of Sol. XXVIII, 15). The symbol suggests the Spirit's share in creation at the beginning, and in the redemption at the end. The “form” withdraws after the Baptism of Jesus because the Spirit remains in Heaven…' Heaven in the Christian Tradition (New York: Harper and Row, 1958), pp. 117 f.Google Scholar

^{page 43 note 1} ‘Beiträge zur Erklärung der Synoptiker: 4. Die Taube bei der Taufe Jesu’, Z.N.W. v (1904), 316–23Google Scholar. For a critique, see Goguel, op. cit. pp. 181 f.

^{page 43 note 2} κολυμ$$$ήρα came to be a term for a baptismal font; cf. Lampe, A Patristic Greek Lexivon, ad loc.

^{page 43 note 3} Cf. also Goguel, op. cit. pp. 181 f.

^{page 43 note 4} op. cit. pars. 625–724.

^{page 44 note 1} It is useful to note the data to which Abbott refers. (a) At Jer. xxv. 38 (xxxii. 24), the MT speaks of disaster on their (Babylonians') land: $$$ (RSV: because of the sword of the Lord and because of his fierce anger. This translation is a compromise: ‘Sword’ comes from about 20 Heb. Mss, and LXX, OL Tg which read $$$ instead of $$$ ‘Lord’ comes from Syriac.) Of interest to us is the fact that $$$ can mean both oppressor (qal part. of ℷ$$$∼) and dove; here the Vulgate (following Aquila and Theodotion) had columbae, while Symmachus has οίνωμένηζ (drunken). Apparently Aquila and Theodotion took ℷℶℸ∼ℷ to mean dove, even though the result is opaque. Or again, did they take ‘dove’ to refer to Israel? How elastic ℷℶℸ∼ℷ apparently was is reflected in the fact that $$$ occurs also at Jer. xlvi. 16 (RSV: the sword of the oppressor), where LXX (xxvi. 16) has μάχαιρας έλληνικ⋯ς, apparently relating ℷℶℸ∼ℷ to $$$ℸ∼ Ionia; Aqualia and Theodotion again have τ⋯ς περιστερ⋯ς the Vulgate columbae, Symmachus τ⋯ς οίνωμένης. (The same diversity reappears at 1. 16 [LXX xxviii. 16.) (b) Zeph. iii. 1 refers to the ‘oppressing city’ (so RSV) $$$; here LXX has ή πόλις ή περιστερά. Again, the participle is taken as a noun ℷ$$$$$$∼. The LXX of Zeph. iii. 1 has also been seen as the source of the odd phrase in 2 Esdrasii. 15 (a Christian addition to the Ezra Apocalypse which is sometimes called 5 Esdras): ‘Mother, embrace thy children; I will bring these out with gladness like a dove’ (sicut columbae). So James, M. R. in Bensly, B. L., The Fourth Book of Ezra (Texts and Studies III. 2) (Cambridge University Press, 1895), p. livGoogle Scholar (repeated by Oesterley, W. O. E., II Esdras [London: Methuen, 1933] p. 12.Google Scholar)

^{page 44 note 2} Chevallier, Max-Alain, L'Esprit et le Messie (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1958), pp. 61 ffGoogle Scholar. He points out that the change from ℷ∼ℸℵ ℵℸ$$$∼ℸ (MTP) Qumran's ℵℸ$$$∼ℸ ℷℵℸℷ (‘lion’ to ‘seer’) is much less a change than Abbott's proposal; Chevallier does not see that the Qumran change is motivated by a need to make sense of the text (if indeed it was not the Massoretic tradition that introduced the difficulty!) whereas Abbott's hypothetical change is not motivated by such a problem. Abbott appealed also to a tradition which is less than clear. In the Protevangelium of James (chs. viii, ix) the sign by which the high priest would know which widower in Israel would be entrusted with the young virgin Mary turned out to be a dove which flew from a man's staff to his head. Likewise, Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew viii and the Gospel of the Nativity of Mary deal with this same tradition, the latter explicitly referring to Isa. xi: ‘A rod shall come from the root of Jesse and a flower shall ascend from his root and the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him (it).’ Abbott reasoned that in this tradition, the rod from the stump of Jesse was understood as Joseph, and ‘dove’ symbolized not the Spirit but Mary herself, who is said to have lived in the temple as a dove (Protev. Jas. viii). Now this interpretation makes sense out of the strange detail in the noncanonical tradition and relates it ti Isa. xi. But it still does not account for the dove in the baptism story, which there symbolizes the divine spirit, not a human girl. Abbott himself is driven to conclude that the apocryphal tradition is a protest against the canonical one! This suggestion is really an admission that the conjectural confusion does not explain the canonical dove at all. Still, M. A. Chevallier has championed this ‘solution’ because it appears to support his contention that Isa. ix. 11 and Ps. ii are behind the baptism story.

^{page 44 note 3} ‘Ein Handvoll Neues Testament. III. Die Taube bei der Taufe’, in Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben (Albert Schweitzer Festschrift) (Bern, 1954), pp. 77–81.Google Scholar

^{page 45 note 1} Later evidence can be adduced that the dove was visualized as a fiery bird. See Adolf, Jacoby, Ein bisher unbeachteter apocrypher Bericht über die Taufe Jesu (Strasbourg, 1902), pp. 17, 36.Google Scholar

^{page 45 note 2} Taufe, Versuchung und Verklärung Jesu (Religionswissenschaftliche Studien 1) (Berlin: Emil Ebering, 1932), pp. 43–59.Google Scholar

^{page 45 note 3} Jesus of Nazareth, trans. by Herbert Danby (London: Allen and Unwin, 1928), p. 252Google Scholar. Actually what Klausner really has in mind is not clear, for he speaks of the sun seeming to Jesus as if ‘the shekinah shed its light upon him’ and of the dove reminding us of Noah's dove and of the Talmudic interpretations of the Spirit over the water at creation. Kosnetter (op. cit. pp. 130 f.) rejected the Klausner–Hirsch interpretation. but Greeven accepts it; cf. Kittel, , Th.W.B. VI, 68.Google Scholar

^{page 45 note 4} A. Marmorstein asserted that in rabbinic literature the shekinah was virtually synonymous with the Holy Spirit, so that the terms are used interchangeably. This would have strengthened Miss Hirsch's case were it not for the fact that the evidence he cites is all post-Tannaitic. [My colleague, Lou Silberman, informs me that it is characteristic precisely of the later period, but not of the earliest, that the names of God are used interchangeably.] ‘Der heilige Geist in der rabbinischen Legende’, A.R.W. XVIII (1930), 290 n. 2; 293Google Scholar. However, G. F. Moore pointed out that the shekinah and the Holy Spirit are sometimes used interchangeably when referring to persons selected for special roles. ‘Intermediaries in Jewish Theology’, H.T.R. XV (1922), 58Google Scholar. Thus whereas Sanhed. 11 a speaks of the shekinah, the Tosefta Sotah xiii. 3 speaks of the Holy Spirit. Interestingly, the Bath-Qol is prominent as well. While this juxtaposition of elements is clearly reminiscent of the baptism story, showing its Jewish qualities, the dove as such is not explained thereby. Sanhed. 11 a reads as follows: ‘Our Rabbis taught: Since the death of the last prophets…the Holy Spirit…departed from Israel; yet they were still able to avail themselves of the Bath-kol. Once when the Rabbis were met in the upper chamber of Gurya's house at Jericho, a Bath-kol was heard from Heaven, saying, “There is one amongst you who is worthy that the Shechinah should rest on him as it did on Moses, but his generation does not merit it.” The Sages present set their eyes on Hillel the Elder. And when he died, they lamented…. ‘Once again they were met in the upper chamber at Jabneh, and a Bath-kol was heard to say: “There is one amongst you who is worthy that the Shechinah should rest upon him, but his generation does not merit it.”. The Sages present directed their gaze on Samuel the Little.’Quoted from Soncino ed. p. 46.

^{page 45 note 5} She refers to Mekil. to Exod.xviii. 27 (68b) [Lauterbach, II, 186].

^{page 45 note 6} This line of interpretation is taken up by Greeven, in Kittel, , Th.W.B. VI, 68.Google Scholar

^{page 46 note 1} E.g. Justin, Dial. 88; Ebionite Gospel; Matt.iii. 15 (g¹). See Walter, Bauer, Das Leben Jesus im Zeitalter der neutestamentlichen Apokryphen (Tübingen, 1909), pp. 134 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 46 note 2} Dibelius' objection that the shekinah was not the Spirit ought not to be pressed since, though literally correct, it ignores the fact that both are manifestations of the divine presence among men, each with its own nuance. Die Formgeschichte des Evangeliums (Tübingen, 1961), 4th ed. p. 272 n. 1.Google Scholar

^{page 46 note 3} Lampe, G. W. H., The Seal of the Spirit (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1951), p. 36.Google Scholar

^{page 46 note 4} Das Evangelium des Markus (Meyers Kommentar), ad loc.

^{page 47 note 1} The later tradition which associates the eagle with Jesus's baptism has nothing to do with apocalyptic eagles. See Jacoby, op. cit. p. 90.

^{page 47 note 2} See Charles, R. H., Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha II, 521 n. 21Google Scholar; concerning the eagle in IV Baruch, See Erwin, Goodenough, Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period (New York: Bollingen series), 11 vols. VII, 137 ff.Google Scholar Unless stated, all references are to this volume.

^{page 47 note 3} ‘New Testament Notes. (1) The Holy Spirit as a Dove’, Expos. (4th Ser.) IX (1894), 51–8.Google Scholar

^{page 47 note 4} ‘Zur Taube als Symbol des Geistes’, Z.N.W. VII (1906), 358 f.Google Scholar

^{page 47 note 5} Goodenough, without referring to Nestle, has restated this position and amplified it; op. cit. p. 44.

^{page 47 note 6} Gen.xv. 9 f. ‘He [God] said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a she-goat, a ram…a turtle-dove and a young pigeon.” And he brought him all these, cut them in two and laid each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two’.

^{page 47 note 7} See Goodenough's discussion, op. cit. p. 45, and ancillary studies mentioned there.

^{page 48 note 1} So also Barrett, op. cit. p. 38; Kosnetter, op. cit. p. 125; Lampe, op. cit. p. 36; Lagrange, M. J., Évangile selon S. Marc (Paris: Libraire Leocoffre, 1947), rev. ed. p. 13Google Scholar. Feuillet, A., ‘Le symbolisme de la colombe,’ R.S.R. XLVI (1958), 532, n. 22.Google Scholar

^{page 48 note 2} As Goodenough put it, ‘It is in line with Philo's thought to say that the two birds become identical after an individual's death’. Op. cit. p. 45.

^{page 48 note 3} Part of a prescribed prayer: ώς σε λόγον γέννησε πατήρ, πάτερ őρνιν άφ⋯κα, όξύν άπαγγελτ⋯ρα λόγων λόγον, ύδασιν άγνοīς $$$αίνων σόν βάπτισμα δι' ο┬υ πυρός έξεφάνθης. Cited according to Geffcken's emended text (GCS, p. 137). The context speaks of the baptism of Jesus.

^{page 48 note 4} Hans Leisegang argued that Philo's distinguishing between τρυλών and περιστερά had its origin in the biblical text rather than in Philo's tradition or thought. He pointed out that Philo knew a tradition in which wisdom is likened to a dove (περιστερᾷᾷ ταύτην άπεικάзουσιν, not άπεικάзομεν which Leisegang would expect were Philo advancing his own idea). The question really devolves upon whether the tradition known to Philo regarded birds in the dove/turtle-dove/pigeon family indiscriminately as symbols of Sophia (or Logos), or whether species differences were regarded as analogous to varying kinds of wisdom, especially human and divine. Here no certain answer is apparent. (Pneuma Hagion. Der Ursprung des Geistbegriffs der synoptischen Evangelien aus der griechischen Mystik, Leipzig, 1922, p. 91 n. 2.)Google Scholar

^{page 48 note 5} Christologische Hoheitstitel (F.R.L.A.N.T. 83) (Göttingen, 1964), 2nd ed. pp. 340 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 48 note 6} So also Alan Richardson, who combines this with the idea of the Spirit brooding over the water. An Introduction to the Theology of the New Testament (New York: Harper & Row, 1958), p. 181Google Scholar. Robert Eisler also saw a double referent (Noah's dove and Gen. i). The Messiah Jesus and John the Baptist, trans. by A. H. Krappe (London: Methuen, 1930), p. 282Google Scholar. The same point was made by Mouson, J., ‘Explicatur baptismus Jesu secundum Matth. III, 13–17,’ in Collectanea Mechliniensia, XXXVIII (1953), 688Google Scholar. Heinrich v. Baer, who interpreted John's baptism in Luke in terms of the eschatological flood, also interpreted the baptismal dove in terms of Noah's dove: as the latter signified a new era of grace, so Jesus's dove discloses the end of the punitive judgement of God and the beginning of a new baptism. Der Heilige Geist in der Lukasschriften (B.W.A.N.T. 39) (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1926), p. 58.Google Scholar

^{page 48 note 7} ‘Das Sintflutgebet in der Taufliturgie’, Wort u. Dienst, Jahrbuch der theologischen Hochschule Bethel, N.F. III (1952), 21Google Scholar; this suggestion is rejected by Greeven, Kittel, Th.W.B. VI, 69 n. 65.Google Scholar

^{page 49 note 1} Goodenough, op. cit. p. 26.

^{page 49 note 2} The recently discovered baptistery in Kelibia, Tunisia, also associates these two water evnets but emphasizes the water (here called aequor perennis, an unusual phrase) rather than the dove. See Theodor Klauser's discussion in Jahrbuch f. Antike u. Christentum (1959), pp. 155–7.Google Scholar

^{page 49 note 3} E.g. Tertullian, Cyril of Jerusalem, Chrysostom, Ambrose, Jereome, Augustine. See Friedrich, Sühlings important collection of material, Die Taube als religiöses Symbol im christlichen Altertum (Supplementheft 24 of Römisches Quartalschrift) (Freiburg/B. 1930)Google Scholar, cf. ‘Noahtaube’.

^{page 49 note 4} The appeal to Noah's dove is also rejected by Feuillet, A., ‘Le symbolisme de la colombe,’ R.S.R. XLVI (1958), 533Google Scholar; by Harold, Sahlin, Studien zum drillen Kapitel des Lukasevangeliums (Uppsala Universitets Arsskrift 1949: 2) (Uppsala: Lundequistska Bokhandeln 1949) p. 102Google Scholar; and by Brun, L., Lukasevangeliet, 120 (cited by Sahlin).Google Scholar

^{page 49 note 5} ‘The Form of a Dove’, J.T.S. XXIX (1928), 241 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 49 note 6} Bauser's lexicon refers to the ancient idea that because the dove was thought to be bileless it was a fitting symbol of being guileless, and says the baptismal Spirit therefore took the form of a dove. Cf. περ;ιστερά. This interpretation was advanced also by H. S. Reimarus.

^{page 49 note 7} The Earliest Gospel (New York: Macmillan, 1901), ad loc.Google Scholar

^{page 49 note 8} Commenting on ‘Thine eyes are as doves’: ‘As the dove is innocent (So Israel are innocent; as the dove is graceful in its step), so Israel are graceful in their step, when they go up to celebrate the festivals. Just as the dove is distinguished [by its colouring], so Israel are distinguished through [abstention from] shaving, through circumcision, through fringes. As the dove is chaste, so Israel are chaste. As the dove puts forth her neck for slaughter, so do Israel, as it says, “For Thy sake we are killed all the day” (Ps. xliv. 23). As the dove atones for iniquities, so Israel atone for the other nations since the seventy bullocks which they offer on Tabernacles are only for the sake of the seventy nations…Just as a dove, from the time that she recognizes her mate, never changes him for another, so Israel once they had learnt to know the Holy One, blessed be He, have never exchanged Him for another. Just as the dove when it enters its cote recognizes at once its nest and its young, its fledglings and its apertures, so when the three rows of disciples sit before the Sanhedrin, each one knows his place. Just as a dove, even if its young are taken from it, never abandons its cote, so Israel, although the Temple is destroyed, have not ceased to celebrate three festivals every year. Just as the dove produces a fresh brood every month, so Israel every month produce fresh learning and good deeds…’ Quoted from Midrash, Rabbah. Songs of Songs, trans. by Simon, Maurice (London: Soncino Press, 1939), p. 86.Google Scholar

^{page 50 note 1} Alfred, Edersheim, The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1883), I, 287Google Scholar. Actually, Edersheim merely suggested this interpretation if one insisted on looking to Rabbinic antecedents; he preferred holding to the miraculous interpretation which needed no antecedent.

^{page 50 note 2} Op. cit. pp. 103 f.

^{page 50 note 3} Op. cit. (see p. 48 n. 1), p. 538. J. de Cock, S. J., tries to build on this line, but with no more success. ‘Het Symbolisme van de Duif bij het Doopsel van Christus’, Bijdragen: Tijdschrift voor Philosophie en Theologie, XXI (1960), 363–74Google Scholar (followed by a summary in French).

^{page 50 note 4} Sahlin rightly does not make much of the report that the Samaritan temple had an image of a dove, which he takes to be the symbol of the people of God. op. cit. p. 103 n.2. The rabbinic source of this tradition is Chullin 6a (Soncino ed. p. 22). James Montgomery distrusted the report (The Samaritans, Philadelphia: John C. Winston, 1907), p. 169Google Scholar; see also Note D. ‘The Alleged Dove Cult of the Samaritans’, pp. 320 f.

^{page 50 note 5} Solomon, Schechter, Studies in Judaism, Second Series (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1938), II, 111 f.Google Scholar

^{page 51 note 1} Quoted from Midrash Rabbah. Genesis, trans. by H. Freedman (London: Soncino Press, 1939).Google Scholar

^{page 51 note 2} So Freedman, Ibid. p. 17 n. 7.

^{page 51 note 3} So Freedman (Ibid. p. 18 n. 3); also Israel, Abrahams, Studies in Pharisaism and the Gospels (Cambridge, 1917), 1, 50.Google Scholar

^{page 52 note 1} Implied by Schechter, op. cit., but rejected by Abrahams.

^{page 52 note 2} Schechter says that parallels, which he does not cite but which are probably Tosefta, Chagig. ii. 5 [234], and ‘eagle’; he is also of the opinion that the ben Zoma story is a fragment of Jewish gnosis.

^{page 52 note 3} Op. cit. pp. 47 f.

^{page 53 note 1} Abrahams, op. cit. p. 49. See also Sifire Deut. 314 which refers to Canticles.

^{page 53 note 2} See Robert, A. and Tourney, R., Le Cantique des Cantiques (Paris: Libraire Lecoffre, 1963), p. 44Google Scholar; Roberts, B. J., The Old Testament Text and Versions (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1951), p. 210Google Scholar. The traditions are probably much older than the text, of course.

^{page 53 note 3} Strack-Billerbeck rightly conclude that the idea that the eagle or dove or any other bird is a symbol of the divine Spirit is simply not found in older rabbinic literature; cf. S-B on Matt.iii. 16.

^{page 53 note 4} Hermann Gunkel reached the same conclusion. Das Märchen im Alten Testament, p. 148 n. 4. Erik Sjöberg says flatly that in rabbinic literature the Holy Spirit is never thought of as a dove. Kittel, , Th.W.B. VI, 380.Google Scholar

^{page 53 note 5} Gustaf, Dalman, The Words of Jesus, trans. by King, D. M. (Edinburgh, 1902), I, 203.Google Scholar

^{page 53 note 6} History of the Synoptic Tradition, trans. by John Marsh (New York: Harper's, 1963), p. 251Google Scholar; Dibelius also follows Dalman; cf. Die Formgeschichte des Evangeliums, p. 273 n. 1.

^{page 53 note 7} Recently, V. Taylor, Mark; Haenchen, E., Der Weg Jesu (Berlin: 1966), p. 53 n. 7Google Scholar. Adolf Schlatter made the same point long ago (Die Sprache u. Heimat des vierten Evangelisten, 1902), p. 28 n. 1.Google Scholar

^{page 54 note 1} Das Weihnachtsfest (Religionsgeschichtliche Studien I) (Bonn, 1889), 2nd ed. 1911Google Scholar. Usener's argument was rebutted by Johannes, Bornemann, Die Taufe Christi durch Johannes (Leipzig, 1896).Google Scholar

^{page 54 note 2} ‘Die Sage von der Taufe Jesu u. die vorderorientalische Taubengöttin’, A.R.W. XX (1920/1921), 1–40, 323–59Google Scholar; see also his earlier ‘Die Sage von der Taufe Jesu’, Zeitschrift f. Missionskunde, XXXIV (1919), 86–91.Google Scholar

^{page 54 note 3} See p. 48. n.4.

^{page 54 note 4} Gunkel asserted not only that the theme of a new king who is chosen by a bird who comes to him is a common story-motif but that one must assume (!) that the same motif was present in NT times and that it was easy to transfer it to Jesus, the true king of Israel. It is precisely this assumption that is too problematic to be persuasive. Das Märchen im Alten Testament, pp. 150 f.Google Scholar The study of Wm. Bousset, to which he refers, does not advance the argument either. ‘Wiedererkennungsmärchen u. Placiden-Legende’, Nachrichten v.d. Königlichen Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften in Göttingen, Phil.-hist. Klasse (1917), p. 719.

^{page 55 note 1} Carl, Clemen, Primitive Christianity and its non-Jewish Sources, trans by Nisbet, R. G. (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1912), p. 316Google Scholar. Clemon does not solve the problem. Reading Mark and Matthew through the Lukan lens, he says that there is more here than a metaphor; then he points to the rabbinic metaphors but denies that they inflienced the conception itself.

^{page 55 note 2} Zum religionsgeschichtlichen Verständnis des Neuen Testaments, p. 70Google Scholar. Barrett, op. cit. pp. 35 f., evaluates Gunkel's brief paragraph but ignores Gressmann's extensive work altogether.

^{page 55 note 3} In this gospel the mother of Jesus, identified as the Holy Spirit, takes him by the hair to Mt Tabor.

^{page 55 note 4} Op. cit. p. 249.

^{page 55 note 5} Nor is it legitimate to use the Hebrew Gospel (see p. 43 n. 1) or Acts of Thomas 50 (see below).

^{page 55 note 6} E.g. Lagrange: ‘l'allusion ´ la Trinité est évidente’. Évangile selon s. Marc, p. 12.

^{page 55 note 7} Here Leisegang judges Gressmann's basic interpretation as ‘entschieden falsch’. Leisegang quarrels not only with the translation of γεγέννηκά σε as ‘give birth’, contending that it must mean ‘begotten’ or ‘conceived’, but with the implication that it is the descending dove/Spirit who announces its own action (‘I have begotten you’), holding that it must be a third party, God the Father, whose voice interprets what has occured between the other two. There may be old themes of royal adoption here, but they have been built into a Hellenistic mystic conceiving-act. Pneuma Hagion, pp. 88 f. n. 1. One may ask, of course, whether themes built into the Gospels would not acquire new meaning in a Hellenistic milieu. Leisegang does not pursue this possibility.

^{page 56 note 1} He appeals to political and social relations between Hierapolis in eastern Syria and Askalon in Palestine.

^{page 56 note 2} ‘Come, O communion with the male…Come, she that manifests the hidden things and makes the unspeakable things plain, the Holy dove that gives birth to the twin young, Come the hidden mother…’ Günther Bornkamm rightly pointed out that behind this reference lies the gnostic theology of Sophia, the mother goddess. Mythos u. Legende in den apokryphen Thomas-akten (F.R.L.A.N.T. 49) (Göttingen, 1933), pp. 95 f.Google Scholar

^{page 56 note 3} Philo is said to show that feminine Sophia and masculine Logos are so closely related that a dove can allegorize both. Leisegang contends that Philo's distinction of the domesticated from the wild dove (see above) is required by the wording of the biblical text; besides, Philo assumes that περιστερά symbolizes σοφία because this was current thinking. Pneuma Hagion, p. 91 n. 2.

^{page 56 note 4} As Barrett did (op. cit. p. 37).

^{page 56 note 5} Bultmann treats Leisegang's work with contempt. History of the Synoptic Tradition, p. 249 n. 3.

^{page 57 note 1} History of the Synoptic Tradition, pp. 249–51.

^{page 58 note 1} Streeter, B. H., The Four Gospels (London, Macmillan, 1951, reprint of 4th rev. ed. of 1930), pp. 188–91Google Scholar. That Q contained an account of Jesus' baptism was maintained also by Harnack, (The Sayings of Jesus, trans. by Wilkinson, J. R.. London: Williams & Norgate, 1908, see pp. 178, 182, 194, 226, 235, 246 and 314Google Scholar) who had advanced essentially the same arguments. Following Streeter are, among others, Creed, J. M., The Gospel According to St Luke (London: Macmillan, 1930), pp. 55Google Scholar, and Leaney, A. R. C., The Gospel According to St Luke (Harpers Commentary) (New York: Harper and Row, 1958), p. 16Google Scholar. Bultmann's criticism at no point really touches Streeter's argument, for (a) pointing out that there is ‘no inner connection between the Baptism and the Temptation even though Matthew and Luke seek to furnish one’ would be germane only if all material juxtaposed in Q necessarily had an inner connection, but who will vouch for such an understanding of Q? (b) That Acts xiii. 24 f. and Matt.xi. 7–13 show John the Baptist ‘came into the Christian kerygma not because he baptized Jesus but because of his place as the last of the prophets in the history of salvation’ may well be true, but in no way precludes Q's having the baptism story after having begun with John's work in the first place. In short, Bultmann's main contention may still be correct—that Q had no baptism story—but the arguments he adduces are irrelevant.

^{page 59 note 1} As Wilfred Knox said; cf. The Sources of the Synoptic Gospels. II. St Luke and St Matthew (Cambridge, 1957), p. 4Google Scholar; so also Grant, F. C., The Gospels (New York: Harper's, 1957), pp. 56 f.Google Scholar, who speculates that the original pre-Lukan account had everything but the reference to Jesus' baptism, and nevertheless recorded the voice from heaven according to the ‘Western’ text. This is scarcely probable.

^{page 59 note 2} Farmer, William R., The Synoptic Problem (New York: Macmillan, 1964).Google Scholar

^{page 59 note 3} Kosnetter, op. cit. p. 252, rejected Bultmann's position but offered no evidence that the story comes from Palestine.

^{page 59 note 4} Test. Jud.xxiv. 2 (according to α β s¹) reads, ‘And the heavens shall be opened unto him, to pour out the Spirit, (even) the blessing of the Holy Father.’ Because this may be a Christian interpolation, we cannot use it in our argument.

^{page 59 note 5} So R. H. Charles who (following Ryssel) emends the text from ‘in its fullness’ to ‘by the word’ because of the parallelism. Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, II, 493 n. 4.Google Scholar

^{page 59 note 6} Charles rightly points out the dependence on Ps. xxxiii. 6, ‘By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, and all their host by the breath of his mouth’ (RSV); MT:Ibid.

^{page 59 note 7} using the text of Habermann, A. M., Megilloth Midbar Yehudah (Jerusalem: Mechbaroth Lesifruth Publishing House, 1959).Google Scholar

^{page 59 note 8} Quoted from Vermes', G. translation, The Dead Sea Scrolls in English (Baltimore: Pelican, 1962)Google Scholar. Habermann's text reads:

^{page 59 note 9} . See also XIV, 13, and XVII, 25.

^{page 59 note 10} The corollary to the same phenomenon appears in the Genesis Apocryphon. Here ‘the Spirit’ is used of an evil spirit sent to Pharaoh, but earlier it had been expressly called an evil spirit; cf.xx. 17, 20, 29.

^{page 60 note 1} Thus Lukeii. 27 after τό πνε⋯μα τό ⋯γιον iv. 1 after πνε⋯μα άγιον Acts ii. 4 after πνε⋯μα άγιον; vi. 3 followed by πνε⋯μα ⋯γιον in v. 5; viii. 18 after πνε⋯μα άγιον. The other occurrences of τό πνε⋯μα in Luke–Acts cannot be used to argue the point in question here (Lukeiv. 14; Acts viii. 29; x. 19; xi. 28; xx. 22; xxi. 4).

^{page 60 note 2} This is all the more important in light of the growing awareness concerning the use of Greek thought in Palestine by persons who also used Hebrew and Aramaic. See the data used by Robert, Gundry, ‘The Language-milieu of First-Century Palestine,’ J.B.L.. LXXXIII (1964), 404–8Google Scholar. Unfortunately, Gundry does not see that it is a long step from this data to the idea that certain dominical sayings originated in Greek!

^{page 60 note 3} In 1934 Frederik Torm objected to this generalization, pointing out that in the LXX the singular occured 626 times and the plural only 51 times, and arguing that these plurals cannot be accounted for simply by the Hebrew $$$. ‘Die Pluralis ούρανοί’, Z.N.W. XXXIII (1934), 48–50Google Scholar. Because Peter Katz, however, corrected Torm's argument by showing that often these plurals depend on contexts where plural verbs are used, Helmut Traub sustains this generalization and points out that Josephus always uses the singular. Peter, Katz, Philo's Bible (Cambridge, 1950)Google Scholar, Appendix 1: ‘The Plural ούρανοί’. Helmut Traub, who completed Hermann Sasse's work, in Kittel, Th.W.B. v, 497, 501Google Scholar. It is not clear to me why Blass-Debrunner-Funk insist that the plural of Matt.xxiv. 31 (άπ' άκρων ούραν⋯νήως άκρων αύτ⋯ν) may be a ‘translation Semitism’ on view of Mark's parallel in the Singular but Marki. 10 f. ‘is different’. A Greek Grammar of the New Testament (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), p. 141 (I)Google Scholar. Hans Bietenhard, who also regards Matt. xxiv. 31 as a translation plural, thinks the ούρανοί of Matt.iii. 16 (and Marki. 10 f.) can be meant literally—because God dwells in the highest heaven, all the heavens open. This is hardly persuasive. Die Himmlische Welt im Urchristentum u. Spätjudentum (W.U.N.T. 2) (Tübingen, 1951), p. 7 n. 1.Google Scholar

^{page 60 note 4} Cf. II Bar. xxii. 1, ‘And it came to pass after these things that lo!, the heavens were opened and I saw, and power was given to me, and a voice was heard from on high…’ See also Lohmeyer, , Markus, p. 21 n. 2Google Scholar, where references are given. Traub (see previous note) refers also to Poimandres XIII, 17: π⋯σα ϕύσις κόσμου προσδεχέσθω το⋯ ύμνου τήν άκοήν, άνοίγηθι γ⋯, άνοιγήτω μοι π⋯ς μοχλός όμβρου, τά δένδρα μή σείσθες, ⋯μνειν μέλλω τόν τ⋯ς κτίσεως κύριον, καί τό π⋯ν καί τό έν. άνοίγητε ούρανοί, άνεμοί τε στ⋯τε. Yet Nock-Festugière agree with Dodd that this hymn itself reflects biblical language. Dodd, C. H., The Bible and the Greeks (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1935), pp. 240 fGoogle Scholar. Nock, A. D. and Festugière, A. J., Corpus Hermeticum (Paris, 1960), II, 217 n. 77Google Scholar. Moreover, it is one thing for the heavens to be unexpectedly opened for a revelation, another to summon them to open in connection with an act of praise, as does the Poimandres text. W. C. van Unnik has collected the diverse materials pertaining to the opening of the heavens and distinguished their several meanings. In our case, he concludes that the heavens open to permit the coming of the Spirit and the voice. ‘Die “Geöffnete Himmel” in der Offenbarungsvision des Apokryphons des Johannes’, Apophoreta (Haenchen Festschrift; Beih. Z.N.W. xxx) (Berlin: Töpelmann, 1964), pp. 269–80.Google Scholar

^{page 60 note 5} So Traub, op. cit. pp. 592 f. n. 261. See also Bacon, B. W., The Beginnings of the Gospel Story (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1909), p. 12Google Scholar (‘Mark assimilates to Isa. lxiv. 1’). Ivor Buse has emphasized the importance of Isa. lxiii for the whole baptism account. ‘The Markan Account of the Baptism of Jesus and Isa. lxiii’, J.T.S. VII (1956), 74 ffGoogle Scholar. So also Feuillet, A., ‘Le Baptême de Jésus d'après l' Évangile selon S. Marc,’ C.B.Q. XXI (1959), 468–90Google Scholar. On the other hand, F. Gils denies the influence of Isa. lxiii. 19 on Mark's σχίзειν. Jésus Prophête d' après les Évangiles synoptiques (Louvain, 1957), p. 50Google Scholar.

^{page 61 note 1} E.g. R. P. Casey argued that because Bath-Qol was used for indirect address by God the baptism story's direct speech could not be a Bath-Qol. ‘The Earliest Christologies’, J.T.S. IX (1958), 254 n. 5Google Scholar; Barrett, op. cit. pp. 39 f.; Haenchen, Der Weg Jesu, p. 54; Kosnetter went so far as to say that Bath-Qol and this heavenly voice ‘have nothing to do with each other’, op. cit. p. 144. On the other hand, many commentators agree that our story does intend to refer to a Bath-Qol (e.g. Klostermann, Markus; Sherman Johnson, Mark (Harper's Commentary); Rawlinson, Mark (Westminster Commentary); Schniewind, Markus (N.T.D.); so also Feuillet, A., ‘Le Baptême de Jésus d'aprè l'Évangile selon S. Marc (1, 9–11),’ C.B.Q. XXI (1959), 478)Google Scholar. M. A. Chevallier uses the same data (the text does not expressly say that God speaks) to conclude that this is precisely a Bath-Qol! L' Esprit et le Messie, p. 59.

^{page 61 note 2} Das Leben Jesu (Leipzig: Breitkopf u. Härtel, 1840), p. 83.Google Scholar

^{page 61 note 3} Jean-Baptiste, pp.200 f.

^{page 61 note 4} See also his ‘Pneumatisme et eschatologie dans le christianisme primitif’, R.H.R. CXXXII (147), 150 f.Google Scholar

^{page 61 note 5} On this point see the two articles by Hans, Windisch, ‘Jesus und der Geist nach synoptischer Überlieferung’, in Studies in Early Christianity (Bacon-Porter Festschrift) (New York: Century and Co., 1928), pp. 209–36Google Scholar, and ‘Jesus und der Geist im Johannes-Evangelium’, Amicitiae Corolla (Rendel Harris Festschrift) (London: University of London Press, 1933), pp. 303–18Google Scholar, and especially C. K. Barrett, The Holy Spirit and the Gospel Tradition.

^{page 61 note 6} Cf. The Birth of Christianity, trans. by H. C. Snape (London: Allen and Unwin, 1953), pp. 95 ff.Google Scholar, and his previous work on the problem which is cited here.

^{page 61 note 7} E.g. Bultmann, , Theology of the New Testament, trans. by Grobel, Kendrick (New York: Scribner's, 1954), I, 41Google Scholar. The importance of the spirit for Palestinian Christianity has been noted by Ernst Käsemann, especially in his discussion of ‘Enthusiasmus’ and apocalyptic. See ‘Die Anfänge christlicher Theologie’, Z.Th.K LVII (1960), 162–85Google Scholar, now in Exegetische Versuche und Besinnungen, II (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964), pp. 82–104Google Scholar.

^{page 62 note 1} Hahn implies this for he insists that the original baptism story is Palestianian and apocalyptic but that the dove entered the tradition only on Hellenistic soil because Mark's meaning is identical with that of the Ebionite Gospel (είς αύτόν = είσελθούσης είς αύτόν!); op. cit. pp. 340 ff.

^{page 62 note 2} So Hahn, op. cit. pp. 340 ff., following Jeremias in Kittel, , Th.W.B. v, 698 fGoogle Scholar. A contrary view was put forward by Marshall, I. H., ‘Son of God or Servant of Yagweh? A Reconsideration of Mark i. 11,’ N.T.S. xv (1969), 326–36Google Scholar. I have not been persuaded by Marshall. Nor have I been persuaded by Paul G. Bretscher's effort to derive the voice from Exod.iv. 22 f. J.B.L. LXXXVII (1968), 301–11.Google Scholar

^{page 62 note 3} A possible, but insufficient, reason would be that the dove disturbs the symmetry of the text: είδεν οχιзομένους τούς ούρανούς

καί τό πνε:⋯μα [ως περιστεράν] καταβαīνον εις αύτόν

Moreover, to hold that the dove was added, especially in the sense that Hahn advocates (see above) returns us to precisely the point where we began: why was it a dove that was added, and why was it put so ambiguously as in Mark?

^{page 62 note 4} Klaus Beyer reckons this instance of καί έγένετο as an example which can be considered as a translation of a Hebrew Vorlage. Semitische Syntax im Neuen Testament I, I (St.U.N.T. 1) (Göttigen: Vendenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1962), p. 60.Google Scholar

^{page 62 note 5} Where the narrative concerns two persons, unspecified subjects of verbs readily lead to confusion. For an example of this Semitic change of subjects which requires the reader to know who is spoken of, see Matthew, Black, An Aramatic Approach to the Gospels and Acts (Oxford 1967, 3rd ed. pp. 127 f.Google Scholar

^{page 62 note 6} Omitting εγενετο with ℵ*Δτ ff g t; it is added by Β$$$Α W λφνg sy^p; sa bo, doubtless transmitting an improvement of the text. Even if ελενετο is retained, the Semeitic character of the text remains. Sixty years ago. B. W. Bacon, who retained εγενετο, pointed out that vv. 9 and 11 have ‘linguistic phenomena attesting derivation from a source more strongly tinged with Semitisms that the taste of any of our evangelists approves. The καί έλένετο is varied by Luke to έγένετο δέ, altered by Matt. to τότη 'Εν έκείναις ταίς ήμέραις remains in none but Mark. καί ϕωνή έγένετο is varied by Luke, altered by Matt. to a Semitism, which he prefers, καί ίδού ϕωνή.’. ‘The Prologue of Mark: A Study of Sources and Structure’, J.B.L. XXVI (1907), 103.Google Scholar

^{page 62 note 7} Doudna, John C., The Greek of the Gospel of Mark (J.B.L. Monograph XII) (Philadelphia, 1961), pp. 133 ff.Google Scholar

^{page 62 note 8} This plerophoric string of adjectives is necessary because of the continuing uncritical and misleading tendency to equate ‘Palestinian’ with ‘Jewish’ and Aramaic-speaking Christianity. But if Acts itself (Hellenists!) has not disabused us of this facile over-simplification, the import of E. R. Goodenough's work (whatever one may tracing one to Alexandria makes it ‘Philonic’.

^{page 63 note 1} After developing this hypothesis I discovered that it also occured to Goguel (Jean-Baptiste), who merely toyed with it; on pp. 182 and 190 he affirmed it but on p. 143 was reluctant to pursue it. It was also suggested, I learned, by Bernhard, Weiss, Matthäus (Meyer's Kommentor), 1898, ad. loc.Google Scholar

^{page 63 note 2} Interestingly, Conybeare came near this solution: ‘the identification…of the Holy Spirit with a dove grew out of the symbolism which was in vogue among the Hellenized Jews…What was originally a mere metaphor, the Evangelists took quite literally’ Op. cit. p. 458. Unfortunately, he confused symbol with metaphor, misused Philo (see above) and read all the Gospels in the light of Luke. Greeven's rejection of this hypothesis is substantiated by no evidence. Kittel, , Th.W.B. VI, 68 n. 59.Google Scholar

^{page 64 note 1} E.g. Spitta, op. cit. pp. 316 f.

^{page 64 note 2} Hans Waitz in the second ed. of Hennecke's Neutestamentliche Apokryphen (Tübingen, 1924), p. 23Google Scholar; so also Vöter, D., ‘Die Taufe Jesu durch Johannes,’ Ned.Th.T. VI (1917), 60.Google Scholar

^{page 65 note 1} Kidd. 81a. The story appears also in Tanh. B. Hukkat. 66a.

^{page 65 note 2} Unfortunately, the Masada fragment of Ben Sira includes only xxxix. 27—xliii. 30. Even though this text may make it necessary to correct the Cairo text, for our purpose the latter serves to exhibit the phenomenon under discussion where the Masada text is wanting. For a thorough discussion of the issues prior to the publication of the Masada fragment see Di Lella, Alexander A., O.F.M., The Hebrew Text of Sirach (Studies in Classical Literature 1) (The Hague: Mouton & Co., 1966)Google Scholar. An extensive bilbiography is provided. Yigael Yadin published the new text, together with plates and comments as The Ben Sira Scroll from Masada (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society & The Shrine of the Book, 1965)Google Scholar.

^{page 65 note 3} Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, I, 573, note.

^{page 66 note 1} Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, I, 595. For a general discussion of the use of ώς, see Takamitsu, Muraoka, ‘The Use of ΟΣ in the Greek Bible,’ Nov Test, VII (1964), 51–72.Google Scholar

^{page 66 note 2} Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, I, 573. For a somewhat different understanding of $$$ in apocalyptic, especially in Daniel, see Sigmund, Mowinckel, He That Cometh, trans. by Anderson, G. W. (Oxford: Blackwell, 1956), p. 352.Google Scholar

^{page 66 note 3} Exhibits of such subtlety are not difficult to find: for example G. A. K. Knight connects the dove (yonah) with Jonah, the symbol of Israel's mission; then he applies this Israel-dove-Jonah symbol to the baptism story and interprets it as Jesus's call: ‘He saw the Holy Spirit descend upon him like a Jonah, so that now there rested upon his head the mission of Israel, to be a dove, the messenger of the forgiveness of God’, etc. A Biblical Approach to the Doctrine of the Trinity (S.J.T. Occas. Papers, I) (Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1953), p. 73Google Scholar. J. de Cock is impressed by this and tries to build on it. ‘Het symbolisme van de dulf bij het Doopsel van Christus’, Bijdragen: Tijdschrift voor Philosophie en Theologie, XXI (1960), 368 ffGoogle Scholar. A quite different suggestion, but scarcely less imaginary, was put forward by A. Aptowitzer, who studied the bird, as soul-symbol, and inferred that the baptismal dove comes from rabbinic ideas of the Logos as bird, or at least from the Greek idea—mediated through Judaism—of the winged soul. ‘Die Seele als Vogel’, Monatsschrift f. Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums, LXIX [N. F. 33] (1925), 150–68Google Scholar. Even Barrett, who knows that the dove as symbol has not been explained, cannot resist finding some theological meaning: ‘a new thing was being wrought in the waters of baptism comparable with the creation of heaven and earth out of primeval chaos’, The Holy Spirit and the Gospel Tradition, p. 39. One can scarcely avoid commenting that the new thing is created out of scholarly chaos!.

^{page 67 note 1} The foregoing study is part of the spadework for a forthcoming monograph on the baptism of Jesus.