I. THY WILL BE DONE? GODLY FAMILIARS, THE COERCIVE WILL OF THE MAGICIAN AND THE MANIPULATION OF THE DIVINE s/SPIRIT IN THE GOSPELS
Man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he’s most
assur’d,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep.
~ William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, Act II, Scene II ~
‘I swear by your great Name, that I will not stir
from here
until you have
until you have
In view of Honi’s impious behaviour towards God,
the leader of the Pharisees scolds him and exclaims:
‘You are presumptuous before the Creator and yet he
does as you wish,
like a son presumes on his father and he does
whatever he wishes.’
(M. Taanit 3.8)
The notion that a human being can influence a
divine spirit to obey his will by employing a series of threatening demands may
seem incredible to the majority of readers operating under the contemporary
Western Christian perception of God as a remote being, far removed from our
earthly realm and situated at a distance in the heavens. However, the magicians
of antiquity considered their gods to be far more readily accessible and they
alleged that it was not only the lesser spirits of the demonic and the dead
that were ripe for magical exploitation but also the supreme gods themselves.
Consequently the ancient magician would often attempt to command the gods to do
his bidding, either by gaining possession of a god or a divine spirit that
would work continually under his authority as an assisting spirit, or by
persuading a god to grant the magician an equal status so that he too can
possess divine powers, or by employing a series of threats to coerce the god to
obey the magician’s will and respond whenever he requires the use of the
spirit’s power. It is this third and final method that is implied in Honi’s
address to God in the quotation above and it is this approach that is
ultimately responsible for the caricature of the arrogant, proud magician who
threatens and shouts at his god until his demands are met. With all three of
these techniques constituting irrefutable evidence of magical practice in the
ancient world, the early reader of the Gospels who was accustomed to this type of
magical behaviour would surely be surprised to encounter instances in which
Jesus appears to behave in this manner, particularly evidence of behaviour
which suggests that he was in possession of a divine spirit or that he had a
coercive approach to God. Nevertheless, there are occasions in which Jesus
admits that a spiritual power is working under his authority and at times it
appears that he is seeking to influence the will of God.
II. THE IMPLIED MANIPULATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT IN MK.
3:29//MT. 12:31//LK. 11:20
When accused by the Pharisees and the scribes of
manipulating a demonic spirit and practising magic (Mk. 3:22//Mt. 12:24//Lk.
11:1), the reader would naturally expect Jesus to reject the possibility that
he is using a spirit and thereby deny a charge of magic. Surprisingly, although
Jesus fervently denies that his powers are fundamentally demonic, his response
is not to deny the use of a spirit but to correct the Pharisees’ mistaken identification
of it and redirect his accusers to the correct source of his exorcistic power;
the Holy Spirit (Mk. 3:28-29//Mt. 12:31-32). Consequently the charge of a
spiritual intermediary at work in Jesus exorcistic activities remains intact
the question becomes a matter of identifying whether it is Beelzebul or God who
is behind Jesus’ actions.
A claim to divine assistance was a common defence
used by the magician in antiquity who, when unable to deny a charge of magic,
would attempt to justify his activities to opponents who accused him of using
demonic powers by indicating that heavenly spirits were in operation or that a
god had aided him in his activities. However this divine damage limitation
exercise was not without fault. By identifying the spiritual power behind his
operations as a divine spirit or even a deity itself, the magician often
incurred fresh charges of blasphemy from his opponents. This defensive measure
appears to be present in Jesus’ response in Mk. 3:28-29//Mt. 12:31-32: ‘whoever
speaks against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven.’ Although this response
successfully counters an accusation of collusion with demonic spirits, it is
also a candid confession that Jesus is using a spirit-authority to carry out
his exorcisms and, since the argument prior to this statement is concerned with
‘having’ spirits and employing them to perform miracles, the Gospel authors
obviously intend Jesus’ statement to correctly identify the spirit that is in
his possession.
The versions presented in the Gospels of Mark and
Matthew clearly identify the Holy Spirit as the operative element in Jesus’
exorcisms (Mk. 3:29//Mt. 12:31-2) and the Matthean version even reaffirms and
reinforces the presence of the Holy Spirit by inserting an additional passage
earlier into the account in which Jesus states ‘if it is by the Spirit of God
that I cast out demons’ (Mt. 12:28). Since the implied manipulation of the Holy
Spirit in this passage could easily warrant a charge of magic, this statement
was, rather unsurprisingly, a cause for alarm for the author of Luke who
prefers to replace the Matthean expression πνευμα του θεου (‘Spirit of God’) with the Old Testament phrase δακτύλω θεου (‘finger of God’, Lk. 11:20) and resituate mention of πνεύμα later in the story at Lk. 12:10. As Luke regularly uses the terms δύναμις and πνεύμα in close relation to one another and makes
constant reference to the Holy Spirit throughout his Gospel, some commentators
suggest that it is unlikely that he would have altered this reference in his
source. Consequently, the originality of Luke’s δακτύλω θεου could be proposed on the basis that Matthew may have found a change to πνεύμα more palatable to avoid anthropomorphism and associate Jesus’ miracles
more directly with the Holy Spirit. However, Luke also includes the expression
‘hand of the Lord’ many times
in Acts as a replacement for ‘Spirit’ (cf. Acts 4:28-30, 11:21, 13:11),
therefore the ‘finger of God’ may have been understood by the early readers of
Luke as being synonymous with ‘Spirit of God’. Similarly, the expression ‘finger of God’ is
understood in the same way as the ‘hand of God’ in the Old Testament and both
were phrases commonly used to describe the power of God. [7] It has also been proposed that the Luke’s alteration was made in order
to draw out parallels between the release of the demon-possessed in this
passage and the release of the captives in Exodus 8 in which the magicians tell
Pharaoh ‘this is the finger of God’, Ex. 8:19).
I would suggest, however, that the author of Luke may have been particularly
reluctant to retain Matthew’s pneu,ma in this
instance as it gives the impression that Jesus was performing exorcisms by
manipulating the Holy Spirit.
If the author of Luke replaced the Matthean πνεύμα with the expression δακτύλω θεου in order to
distance Jesus from the implied manipulation of the Holy Spirit, then he does
more to compound the problem of magical technique in this passage than to
diffuse it. The expression ‘finger of God’ does feature significantly in
ancient magic; for example, the phrase δακρύλου [sic] του θεου appears in a binding charm on an ostracon
translated by Karl Preisendanz in which the magician states ‘I swear to you
with the finger of God.’[11] Furthermore, the ‘finger of God’ was closely
associated with Egyptian magical ritual and when examining the use of the
phrase ‘finger of god’ in Exodus 8:19, Thomas Römer comments:
‘This expression, attested in Egyptian magical
formulas, undoubtedly
Since Aaron was recognised by the Egyptian
magicians as a superior magician due to his use of a powerful stick or rod
known as the ‘finger of God’, could it be possible to apply a parallel
interpretation to Luke’s use of δακτύλω θεου in this
passage as suggestive of a similar magical tool being used by Jesus? If so,
then perhaps it is within this passage that the early Christian artists who
depicted Jesus as using a wand found their muse.
In addition to a term referring to a magical tool,
the title ‘the finger of God’ is a name that is given to a supernatural power
in many ancient magical texts. Marvin Meyer observes that the name ‘Orphamiel’
is ‘well known from other Coptic texts of ritual power and is commonly
associated with the index finger of god’s right hand.’[14] To illustrate the association between Orphamiel and
God’s finger, Meyer cites from an ancient ostracon invoking Orphamiel which
states: ‘You are Orphamiel, the meaning of which is: the great finger of the
father.’[15] This name appears yet again in a spell from the
London Oriental Manuscript 6796 (dated by Walter Crum ‘about the year 600’)
which casts out unclean spirits ‘in the power of Orphamiel, the great finger of
the right hand of the father!’ [16] Later in the same text the exorcist demands: ‘I adjure you, father,
by…Orphamiel, that is the great finger of your right hand, that you send me
Jesus Christ’.[17] However, Orphamiel is not the only spiritual power to be associated
with the finger of God. An amulet to bind a dog (i.e. to keep a dog silent)
from the London Oriental Manuscript 1013A invokes ‘the great finger Nathaniel’
to bind a subject:
‘I adjure [you], I place you under oath, by the
great finger, Nathaniel: Bind, bind, bind, unbreakably!’[18]
This particular text was most likely used by a
thief to restrain a dog so that he could steal from a house (coincidentally,
Luke’s δακτύλω θεου appears in close proximity to the binding terminology used by Jesus and
the metaphor of a plundered house in the parable of the strong man in Mk.
3:27//Mt. 12:29//Lk. 11:21-22).
The originality of the Lukan δακτύλω θεου or the Matthean πνεύμα does not
ultimately determine the presence of magical connotations within this passage
since both carry serious implications of magical techniques at work in Jesus’
exorcisms. If we accept Hull’s suggestion that Matthew altered his received
Lukan version of the story from δακτύλω θεου to πνεύμα then this may indicate that Matthew was sensitive
to the suggestion that a magical technique or a magical tool was employed by
Jesus in his exorcisms. Alternatively, if the author of Luke has altered the
Matthean account then it is unlikely that he would consciously include a
reference to δακτύλω θεου as this
phrase carries such a strong magical subtext and great care has been taken by
all three Synoptic writers to remove traces of magic from elsewhere in the
Gospels. However, Luke may have felt a change was necessary in order to avoid
the implication that Jesus had control over the Holy Spirit and that he was able
to manipulate it in order to produce miracles, particularly since Matthew does
not place evidence of magical spirit manipulation in the words of Jesus’
opponents in this instance, but in the words of Jesus himself.
The identification of Jesus’ empowering spirit as
the ‘Holy Spirit’ does not discount the possibility of magical practice since
divine or ‘holy’ spirits were commonplace in the ancient world and they were
frequently employed by magicians as supernatural assistants. The magical papyri
provide numerous examples of rites that can be performed to achieve the
possession of a divine spirit and it is by closely examining these instructions
that we can rightfully judge whether Jesus’ conduct in the Gospels is similar
to the behaviour of a magician in possession of a holy spirit. To begin, we can
compare the accounts of a magician’s acquisition of a divine spirit that are
provided in the magical papyri to the moment in the Gospels in which this
spiritual power initially appears to Jesus. Although we have previously
considered Jesus’ baptism as the moment of passive spirit-possession, we must
now reconsider the baptism narratives as an account of his reception of a
divine familiar spirit.
III. THE BAPTISM AS THE ENDOWMENT OF A DIVINE
FAMILIAR SPIRIT
Although Celsus is particularly keen to stress the
influence of Egyptian magic on Jesus’ activities, he argues that the coming of
the dove and the voice at Jesus’ baptism has its parallels in Egyptian magical
rituals that anyone could learn to perform.[20] The absence of ritual elements in the baptism narratives contradict
Celsus’ allegation. However, since the Gospel reports of Jesus’ healings and
exorcisms have been edited to remove physical or verbal techniques that could
be misconstrued as having parallels to magical behaviour, we must regard with
suspicion the absence of baptismal words or ritual and consider the possibility
that we have an abridged version. If the details of the baptismal rite itself
would have been inoffensive to the early reader, then the omission of this
material in all three Synoptic accounts is inexplicable. By removing these
seemingly harmless details the Gospel authors suggest that they were in some
way detrimental to their evangelical objectives. If Smith is correct when he
suggests that the details of the baptismal ritual have been removed, then there
are three possible reasons for why this may have occurred. The first
possibility is that the evangelists simply considered these details to be
unnecessary and superfluous clutter in the story and therefore they chose to
give preference to the unusual motifs of the dove and descending spirit.
Second, the original story may have contained additional factors that were
considered to be contentious due to their bizarre imagery. However, as the
redactors retain material which uses unusual or mythological language elsewhere
in the Gospels, such as in the temptation narrative, we must assume that
peculiar or symbolic imagery would not have been a deterrent to the redactor.
Finally, since the Gospel writers continually remove potential indicators of
magical technique, there is a strong possibility that the ritual elements of
the baptism were thought to resemble illicit or magical procedures and they
were consequently removed on this basis. If certain elements of the baptism
accounts were considered by the evangelists to be too reminiscent of magical
practice, then the dove-motif may have been salvaged from a broader chain of
events on the basis that it was regarded by the Gospel authors to be a useful
device through which to represent the coming of the Holy Spirit to Jesus.
While the dove-motif may have initially proven
valuable in representing the bestowal of divine approval upon Jesus, the symbol
of the descending dove has since been unable to elude its associations with
magic and it is possible that the accusations of spirit manipulation and
demonic empowerment made by Jesus’ opponents had their foundation in, or were
influenced by, the story of a spirit descending to Jesus in the baptismal
accounts. Charges of spirit manipulation may have been founded upon the Markan
baptism narrative in particular as the Spirit which descends onto Jesus and
drives him into the wilderness is simply referred to as an anonymous πνεύμα (Mk. 1:10, 12). This interpretation is wisely avoided by both the
authors of Matthew and Luke. The Spirit that descends to Jesus in Matthew’s
Gospel is clearly identified as ‘the Spirit of God’ (πνευμα του θεου, Mt. 3:16-17), although the Spirit which drives
him into the wilderness is once again the simple Markan πνεύμα (Mt. 4:1).
The author of Luke’s Gospel ensures that the Spirit is linked unequivocally
with God by having the ‘Holy Spirit’ (πνεύματα ἁγίου, Lk. 3:22) descend to Jesus and although it is again a general πνεύμα that drives Jesus into the wilderness, the evangelist inserts a line
before Jesus’ expulsion to remove any doubt concerning the identity of the
Spirit: ‘and Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit’ (πνεύματα ἁγίου, Lk. 4:1). The author of the Gospel of John may have been acutely aware
that the pericope had the potential to form the basis of a polemical attack
against Jesus or his followers as he retains the story, possibly because it was
too well known to be omitted, but changes the story into a vision received by
John the Baptist (Jn. 1:32-24).
Alternatively, rather than being the original
source of these allegations, it is entirely reasonable to conclude that this
story was constructed as a response to claims from those hostile to Jesus’
mission that there was a demonic spirit at work in his healing and exorcistic
ministry, hence the great emphasis placed in the Matthean and Lukan accounts on
the divine origin of the Spirit present at Jesus’ baptism. However, I would
suggest that it is highly unlikely that the evangelists deliberately invented the
appearance of a spirit as this would have given significant weight to the
opponents’ claims that Jesus derives his miracle-working abilities from the
manipulation of a spiritual power. Furthermore, it is particularly unlikely
that they would have chosen the motif of a descending spirit since aerial
spirits were closely associated with magical practice in the ancient world.
Augustine addressed the existence of aerial spirits
at length in his City of God and these spirits appear frequently
throughout the Greek magical papyri.[23] In the ‘Spell of Pnouthis for acquiring an assistant spirit’ (PGM I.42
-195), the magician is addressed as ‘O friend of aerial spirits’ (ἀερίων πνευμάτων, I. 50) and later in the same manuscript the
magician asks to be protected ‘against all excess of magical power of aerial
daimon’ (δαίμονος ἀεριου, PGM I. 216). Similarly in a
‘bear charm’ (PGM VII. 686 - 702) the magician encounters a spirit who is
addressed as ‘O aerial one’ (VII. 699).
In addition to spirits that have their natural domain in the air, the descent
of a spirit from above is a common occurrence within the magical papyri and
this is often the manner in which a familiar spirit appears to a magician. For
instance, a magical text entitled ‘a tested charm of Pibechis for those
possessed by daimons’ (PGM IV: 3007-86) reads ‘let your angel, the implacable,
descend and let him assign the daimon flying around this form’ (IV. 3025-6).
Occasionally the familiar spirit appears in the form of a bird; for example in
the ‘letter of Nephotes to Psammetichos’ (PGM IV. 154-221) there is a
description of a ‘divine encounter’ in which ‘a sea falcon flies down and
strikes you on the body with its wings’ (IV. 209-211). As the decent of the
spirit at Jesus’ baptism is so extensively paralleled within the magical
tradition, Morton Smith asks why this passage was allowed to remain in the Gospels
when it could clearly be used as a charge of magic. He states:
‘objectively there is no more likelihood that the
Lord of the Air came down
Although the evangelists emphasise that the spirit
in the baptism accounts has a divine nature (Mt. 3:16//Lk. 3:22), this does not
conclusively rule out implications of magical practice since ‘holy spirits’
also feature prominently within the magical papyri.[25] For example, the incantation in the fragmented text of PGM II. 282-409
(a ‘rite for foreknowledge’) is addressed to a ‘holy spirit’ (ἅγιον πνευμα, II.393). Similarly, in the love charm entitled
‘lunar spell of Claudianus’ (PGM VII. 862 – 918) the goddess is able to send
out an angel or a ‘holy assistant’ (πάρεδρον ὅσιον) to attract the desired lover to the magician since ‘no aerial or infernal daimon’ can ignore the wishes of the goddess’ (PGM VII.
894). In addition, the title Αγαθός Δαίμοων (Agathos Daimon) appears in a ‘spell to Helios’ (PGM IV.
1596-1715) and a ‘ring blessing’ (PGM XII. 244) and the variant ‘Agathodaimon’
is used in PDM XIV. 605. Although not all familiar spirits in the Greek Magical
Papyri were given a title indicating their holy status, many were considered to
be of divine origin. Leda Jean Ciraolo reveals in her study of the paredri
in the Greek magical papyri that ‘in the overwhelming majority of instances the
paredros may be considered a divine being’ and that ‘the term which is used
most commonly to refer to the paredros is theos, meaning a god or a
goddess.’[26]
The fourth-century spell entitled ‘the Spell of
Pnouthis’ (PGM I. 42 -195) is of particular importance in this instance since
many elements within this text parallel the events described in the baptism
accounts of the Gospels. First, a spirit descends from heaven in the form of a bird
(‘a falcon will [fly down and] stand in front of you’, I. 65-66) and this
spirit is later identified as a godly ‘aerial spirit’ (‘it is acknowledged that
he is a god; he is an aerial spirit which you have seen’ I. 96). This assisting
spirit has many beneficial abilities that are closely paralleled with the
miraculous powers attributed to Jesus in the miracle stories of the Gospels:
‘he frees from bonds…he opens doors, he causes
invisibility…he brings water,
wine, bread and whatever you wish in the ways of
foods…he will quickly freeze
rivers and seas and in such a way that you can run
over them firmly…’ (PGM I.
100-121).
Although the parallels between this magical text
and the ministry of Jesus in the Gospels appear to suggest that the author of
this spell was aware of the Gospel tradition, the manifestation of food,
freedom from bondage and the granting of invisibility were all magical skills
accredited to various magicians within the ancient world. For example, Celsus states that the Egyptian magicians were able to call forth the illusion of a grand
banquet[27], Lucian’s Hyperborean magician has the power
to walk upon water[28] and Apollonius of Tyana was
thought to have vanished from a courtroom.[29]
When the magician dies, the author of this rite
states that the spirit will wrap up his body and ‘carry it into the air with
him’ (I. 178) and during his lifetime, as a direct result of the possession of
this assisting spirit, the magician is promised: ‘you will be worshipped as a
god since you have a god as a friend’ (I. 191). As this final line indicates,
the close bond established between a magician and his assisting spirit was
thought to induce ‘god-like’ qualities within the magician, although his new
divine status could also be illusionary. Since an assisting spirit worked
through the magician and at his immediate behest, it would appear to observers
that the magician was performing these miracles by his own personal powers and
hence his naïve audience would consider him to be a god.
However the magician’s divine status was not always
a charade. Many rites in Hellenistic magic, known specifically as ‘deification’
rites, promise to join the magician so closely to a divine spirit or god that
his soul will become divine and he will rightfully identify himself as a god.
Since the baptism accounts in the Gospels closely resemble the descent of a
divine familiar spirit and deification was often the direct consequence of the
possession of a divine spirit, we must seriously consider deification as a
valid interpretation of the processes described within the baptism narratives.
IV. DEIFICATION RITES AND THE
MAGICIAN’S CLAIM TO DIVINITY
The serpent in the Garden of Eden tempts Eve with
the promise that if she eats the fruit from the tree of knowledge then she
‘will be like God’ (Gen. 3:5). The serpent’s promise that a human being can
achieve a divine status was an appealing prospect in the ancient world and many
religious communities and magical practitioners believed that by participating
in a deification ritual they could experience a physical and spiritual
regeneration which would result in their transformation into a god-like being. Consequently,
rites of deification were extremely commonplace in the ancient world. Attaining
a divine status was considered to be a central objective of theurgy (‘divine
work’, from θεὀς ‘God’ and ἔργον ‘work’) and many theurgists in
the Hellenistic world of the late second and early third centuries CE professed
the ability to establish a direct link of communication between themselves and
the gods. A close involvement with the operations of the divine ensured that
the theurgists were considered to be practising a higher, more benevolent form
of magic than inferior magic such as goetia and henceforth the rituals of
theurgy were adopted by leading Neoplatonic philosophers seeking to distance
themselves from the negative stigma associated with magic.
Many examples of deification rites are found within
the Greek magical papyri and the most widely recognised of these is the
‘Mithras Liturgy’ in the Great Magical Papyri of Paris (PGM IV. 475-829). This
ritual promises the magician that he will attain immortality and be transformed
into ‘a lord of a godlike nature’ (PGM IV. 220). To indicate the transition of
the magician’s soul from a mortal to divine state, he is required to announce
during the ritual:
‘for today I am to behold, with immortal eyes – I,
born mortal from mortal
womb, but transformed by tremendous power’ (PGM IV.
516).
Although many deification rituals claim to produce
a genuine change in the participant’s status, it is often difficult to
distinguish between occasions in which a legitimate spiritual transformation
has occurred resulting from the successful completion of a deification ritual
and the magician’s deceptive declaration that he is to be identified with a god
in order to gain power and authority over the spirits that he is attempting to
manipulate. Often the magician in the Greek magical papyri will identify
himself using an ‘I am’ formula coupled with the name of a deity or a biblical
individual of powerful status. For example, the performer of the rite in PGM
III. 145 states ‘I am Adam the forefather’ and similarly in PGM V. 109 we read
‘I am Moses’. In later magical manuscripts we find ‘I am Jesus Christ’ (‘Spell
to cast out every unclean spirit’, London Oriental Manuscript 6796 (4), 6796).
This manner of self-identification with a god is generally considered to be
Egyptian in origin and this is supported by the prevalence of Egyptian names
within the magical papyri. For instance, the magician in PDM XIV. 239-95
declares ‘I am Isis; I shall bind him. I am Osiris; I shall bind him. I am
Anubis; I shall bind him’ (XIV. 255) and PGM I. 247-62 (‘a tested spell for
invisibility’) reads `I am Anubis, I am Osir-phre…I am Osiris whom Seth
destroyed.’
Witnesses to these statements could easily confuse
the magician’s claim to an alter-identity with the alter-persona speech
typically associated with spirit-possession and thereby conclude that the
magician is possessed by the spirit of a god or powerful individual who is
reaffirming his identity through the speech of the possessed magician. If a
genuine transformation of the participant has occurred then we can allow the
possibility that a new persona is present and therefore the spirit-possession
model can be rightfully applied. However, although a declaration of a divine
status made within the magical papyri may be an authentic indication that the
magician has achieved a divine-state through the successful completion of a
deification rite, it is most often the case that by making these bold
statements the magician is aware that an identity change has not occurred and
he is simply adopting an alter-identity in order to accord himself a greater
status and thereby add power to his spell. Since these ‘I am’ statements are
almost invariably made when addressing a spirit over which the magician is
seeking to gain control, it appears that these statements are a sort of
‘play-acting’ in which the magician simply pretends that he has a superior
status and no real psychological transformation has taken place. Therefore when
the magician announces ‘I am…’ we should not immediately assume that this
indicates that a change of persona has occurred and that the magician is now
possessed by an imposing spiritual force. Consequently we must be suspicious of
individuals in antiquity who make forthright statements such as ‘I am the Son
of God’ or who profess to have obtained a divine status and we must consider
whether these individuals genuinely believe that they have been transformed
into a god-like being or whether they are simply making an arrogant claim to
superiority such as those made by the magicians in the magical papyri.
V. ‘SON OF GOD’ AS A MEANS OF MAGICAL
SELF-IDENTIFICATION
All four Gospel writers indicate that Jesus’ claim
to a divine status was a major contributing factor towards his eventual
execution (Mk. 14:61-64//Mt. 26:63-65//Lk. 22:70). For instance, in the trial
narrative of John’s Gospel a charge of blasphemy is made against Jesus on the
basis that has assumed a divine-like nature:
‘This was why the Jews sought all the more to kill
him, because he not only
broke the Sabbath but also called God his Father,
making himself equal with
God.’ (Jn. 5:18)
‘the Jews say “it is not for a good work that we
stone you but for blasphemy;
because you being a man, made yourself God.”’ (Jn.
10:33)
‘the Jews answered him, “We have a law, and by that
law he ought to die,
because he has made himself a Son of God.”’(Jn.
19:7)
Blasphemy is divided into three categories in the
Talmud; the first is insulting god, the second is idolatry and the third is
‘stretching out the hand to God’.[38] This third category forbids individuals from assuming a god-like nature
or considering themselves to be equal with the divine and it appears to be on
this particular indictment that Jesus’ opponents seek to impose a charge of
blasphemy. When we consider the fact that magicians in the ancient world were
actively seeking ways in which to attain a divine status or transform
themselves into gods, then it is clear that the Jewish people not only charge
Jesus with blasphemy but also with practicing magic. In addition, John 19:7
explicitly states that the Jews sought to execute Jesus because he ‘made
himself a Son of God.’ Although the emphasis placed upon Jesus’ sonship
throughout John’s Gospel is indicative of the high christological objectives of
its author, the title ‘Son of God’ is also closely associated with the person
of Jesus in the Synoptics and often appears in connection with supernatural
events (cf. Mk. 3:11; Mt. 4:3, 14:33). At the risk of oversimplification, New
Testament academia commonly interprets the Father-Son terminology used by the
Gospel authors as indicative of a parent-child or dominant-subordinate
relationship, illustrating the hierarchical relation between Jesus and God. The
word ‘son’ has a similar usage in the magical papyri since it is generally used
as an affectionate term for an initiate or pupil. For example, in the ‘spell of
Pnouthis’ (PGM I. 42-195) the magician is forbidden from sharing the magical
instructions detailed in the text with anyone ‘except [your] legitimate son’
(I. 193). Similarly, in PGM IV. 2505-2517 the author urges the performer to
‘keep it secret, son’ (IV. 2517) and Betz writes in his comments on this
statement that ‘the term ‘son’ seems to indicate the magician’s apprentice.’
[40] However, a claim to sonship is also made by a magician engaging in the
alter-persona play-acting encountered above. For instance, a parallel to the
statement ‘I am the son of god’ (Jn. 10:36) occurs in the Mithras Liturgy (PGM
IV. 475-829) during which the magician asks that ‘the holy spirit (ἱερὸν πνευμα[41]) may breathe in me’ (IV. 510) and he subsequently declares ‘for I am
the son’ (IV. 535).
This ‘son’ terminology also appears in the Demotic Magical Papyrus of London
and Leiden, in which the magician states: ‘I am the son of the living god’ (DMP
XX.33). In order to demonstrate how other statements concerning Jesus’ divine
origin resemble the outlandish claims made by the magicians in the magical
papyri, Morton Smith draws attention to the similarity between passages in
John’s Gospel and the magical papyri; for example, ‘I am the one come down from
heaven’ (Jn. 6:51) is identical to ‘I am the one come forth from heaven’ (PGM
IV. 1018) and ‘I am the truth’ (Jn. 14:6) is identical to ‘I am the truth’ (PGM
V. 148).[42]
The magician who declares ‘I am the Son of God’
suggests to his audience that either his soul has been deified through the
possession of a divine spirit or upon completion of a deification rite and he
is now to be identified as a divine being, or that he is pretending to be
associated with a god, or to be the son of a god, in order to elevate his magical
authority within the spiritual realm. Either option clearly indicates that the
individual has engaged in, or continues to engage in, magical activities that
were commonplace within the first centuries. Magicians who had successfully
gained control over divine powers, either by harnessing the obedience of a god,
being in possession of a divine spirit or even possessing divine powers
themselves, were often recognised by their wild claims that the boundaries of
their powers are unlimited and that they are able to behave like the gods,
performing miracles at will and achieving wonders no matter how impossible the
task. Therefore an overriding confidence in the strength and potency of the
magician’s own will was a major indicator of spiritual manipulation in the
ancient world.
VI. THE COERCIVE WILL OF THE
MAGICIAN
Simon Magus in the pseudo-Clementine
Recognitions brags that ‘whatever I will to do I shall be able to do’.[43] This egotistical boast was echoed in the words of many magicians in
antiquity who believed that their authoritative command alone would suffice to
produce immediate wonders and spectacle. In both the magical papyri and the
fictional literature describing the exploits of the magicians in antiquity, it
is frequently uncertain whether the magician’s ability to perform ‘whatever he
wills’ is drawn from the strength of his own powers, which are effective
independently of spiritual assistance, or from the immediate compliance of a
spiritual being over which the magician has assumed command at an earlier
occasion. A magician who deems himself capable of bringing down the moon
without the need for spiritual intervention, as described in the example above,
must believe that the strength of his power is situated in his own personal,
manistic powers. It is the magician’s self-sufficient ability to perform
miracles by his actions alone, particularly spoken ones, that is addressed by
Apuleius who states: ‘a magician (magum) is a person who… is able, by a
certain incredible power centred in his incantations, to do everything he
wills’.[45] Similarly, the application of the magician’s will independently of
spiritual assistance is addressed by John Hull who comments:
‘the strongest magic seems to be that effect caused
merely by the will of
the operator; so strong is that will that it needs
no extra help…it cannot
be interrupted or delayed because its triumph is
its immediate attainment
Conversely, the ability to perform miracles
seemingly at will and without the need for external assistance was also
accredited to magicians who had acquired the assistance of a spirit or god
which would react immediately to the magician’s summons, thereby giving the
impression that the magician himself was the instigator and executor of the
impossible task. An example of this method is found in the ‘Spell of Pnouthis’
(PGM I. 42- 195) which instructs the magician that he need not offer lengthy
petitions or perform complicated rites whenever he wishes to perform an
impossible task since the spirit is bound to help him immediately whenever he
wills it (PGM I. 180 -187). Therefore, to his audience, the resulting action
will appear to have been achieved without the aid of a spiritual intermediary.
With the possession of an assisting spirit and the
magician’s overriding confidence in the strength of his own will constituting
clear indications of magical practice in antiquity, it was essential that
miracle-workers demonstrated that their miracles resulted not from their own
personal power or from the assistance of a compelled spirit, but from their
prayers to God who ultimately had the final word in whether the requested task
would be carried out. For this reason, the miracle-workers and their followers
were keen to point out that the only method used in their wonder-working was
faithful and pious prayer and hence they were devout worshippers of God rather
than magicians.[47] If the evangelists were equally keen to represent Jesus as an obedient
worshipper of God then it is surprising that there is no record of a prayer to
God during the healing or exorcism accounts in the Gospels.
Although prayers are noticeably absent in the
healing miracles, the reader is made acutely aware that Jesus can obtain
immediate help from God. This is the functional understanding of Jesus’ power
that is provided by Martha who states: ‘even now I know that whatever you ask
from God, God will give you’ (Jn. 11:22). As we have discovered when
investigating the healing of the woman with the haemorrhage in Mk. 5:25-34//Mt.
9:18-22//Lk. 8:43-48, various attempts have been made to explain the continual
absence of Jesus’ request for assistance from God by suggesting that the
evangelists understood that Jesus had achieved such a close union with God that
a request was unnecessary since God was simply ready and willing to help. It is
this immediate nature of God’s power that has led some scholars to conclude
that Jesus was a charismatic type. However, an absence of prayer and the
expectation of an immediate result also implies an arrogance regarding Jesus’
spiritual power-source that was typical of a magician actively manipulating
divine powers in the ancient world. The magician in possession of a divine
spirit was assured that the spirit operating under his authority would react
immediately to perform a miracle at his request, therefore protracted prayers
or incantations were unnecessary. Equally, the magician who claimed that he had
achieved a divine status believed that an appeal to an external power-source
was redundant as the strength of his will alone could perform miracles. Jesus
fits comfortably into both of these magical frameworks in the account of the
cursing of the fig tree in Mk. 11:12-24//Mt. 21:18-22. The autonomy of Jesus’
power-source is severely questioned in this passage and Jesus shifts from the
embodiment of a miracle-worker at the mercy of higher divine power to that of a
magician, frivolously exploiting his divine powers and bragging that the strength
of his will alone can suffice to produce miracles.
VII. THE COERCIVE WILL OF JESUS AND THE CURSING OF THE FIG TREE (MK. 11:12-24//MT. 21:18-22)
The cursing of the fig tree in Mk. 11:12-24//Mt.
21:18-22 combines a powerful demonstration of Jesus’ evxousi,a with an apparently destructive misuse of his miracle-working powers,
all directly linked with a teaching regarding the potency of the operator’s
will. The harmful application of Jesus’ power in this passage stands in sharp
contrast to the compassionate use of his abilities throughout the rest of the
Synoptics and theories which appeal to Jesus’ benevolent motives in his
miracle-working as a major defence against magical practice are herein
presented with a serious stumbling block.[50] The first half of the story goes as follows: Jesus encounters a fig
tree on the way to Jerusalem that is not bearing fruit and since he is hungry,
he curses the tree. In the Matthean account the tree withers on the same day
(Mt. 21:19), perhaps in order to enhance the strength of Jesus power, however
in the Markan version the disciples and Jesus do not notice that the tree has
withered until they pass by the next morning (Mk. 11:20). As the author of Mark
tells us that ‘it was not the season for figs’ (Mk. 11:13), the reader is made
aware that the absence of figs on the tree is natural and explicable and that
the tree is not dead or failing. Since the tree cannot be held accountable for
its lack of fruit, Jesus’ anger is purely the result of his hunger and personal
need. Jesus wants and the tree cannot provide, therefore it is destroyed.
Various explanations for this tantrum-like
behaviour have been proposed. Some suggest that the withering of the tree is a
pedagogical device and that it demonstrates the importance of bearing good
spiritual ‘fruit’. Others suggest that the story has developed out of a
parable. The most widely accepted interpretation of the passage in New
Testament scholarship is that the fig tree is a symbol for Israel and that by
cursing it, Jesus is foreshadowing the destruction of the temple. Regardless of
the motives underlying the inclusion of this story, the tantrum-like behaviour
of Jesus within this passage has caused a considerable degree of discomfort and
controversy for both ancient redactor and modern scholar alike (this,
incidentally, favours its authenticity). Certainly Jesus appears in this
passage more like the image presented of him as a child in the Infancy
Gospel of Thomas, reacting violently to incidents which offend him by using
his powers for destructive means (which, incidentally, on one occasion involves
‘withering’ another child (3:1-4)). That the power-authority which Jesus and
his disciples share can be used for destructive purposes is clearly how it is
understood by James and John who ask Jesus in Lk. 9:54 when confronted with the
rejection of the Samaritans: ‘do you want us to bid fire come down from heaven
and consume them?’.
It is possible that the authors of Mark and Matthew
found the violence within the fig tree pericope to be disagreeable but felt
that the event was too well known or important to be left out. Unsurprisingly,
the author of Luke does not include the incident in his Gospel and this
omission may be based on his sensitivity to the negative implications of this
seemingly random act of destruction. Certainly the destructive use of Jesus’
power conjures up the unpleasant caricature of a magician who uses his
abilities to bring physical, psychological or financial harm to his neighbours.
It must also be noted that the act of ‘withering’ was closely associated with
magic in the ancient world. Morton Smith observes that ‘some spells intend their
victims to ‘wither,’ ‘consume,’ ‘burn up’’ and therefore ‘magic has probably
had some influence here’.[57] Since ‘withering’ was particularly associated with the ‘evil eye’, it
is perhaps within this context that we can understand the influence of magic
upon this passage in the Gospels. For instance, Eric Eve calls the destruction
of the fig tree ‘an act of thaumaturgical vandalism’ which ‘in that culture
might very well be ascribed to the use of the evil eye’[58] and he supports this observation with a quotation from Regina
Dionisopoulos-Mass’ study into the use of the evil eye in witchcraft:
‘A tree or vine that suddenly withers is certainly
the victim of the eye…There
are many tales of trees and vines that were green
and strong in the morning
In addition, the statement ‘may no fruit ever come
from you again’ (Mt. 21:19//Mk. 11:14) is similar to the binding curses found
within the magical papyri which read, for example, ‘may NN not be able…’ or
‘let him not speak’ (cf. PGM V. 321f). Therefore we should not ignore the
possibility that Jesus’ words are to be understood as a magical binding curse.
This destructive use of Jesus’ power and the numerous parallels to the magical
act of ‘withering’ are not the sole contributing factors to the emergent figure
of Jesus as a magician in this passage. In addition, there is a significant
underlying current of magical technique that is present in the subsequent
prayer teaching in Mk. 11:22-24//Mt. 21:21-22. Most studies of the fig-tree
incident limit their attention to the implied symbolism of the fig tree and
fail to realise that the destruction of the tree is clearly intended to
illustrate the subsequent prayer teaching in which Jesus teaches the disciples
that they will be able to perform whatever they wish if they pray correctly and
with sufficient faith (Mk. 11:22-24//Mt. 21:21-22). In the Matthean version of
the prayer teaching, the endowment of power through prayer is dependent upon
the pi,stij (‘faith’) of the pray-er, therefore Jesus states ‘whatever you ask in
prayer, you will receive if you have faith’ (Mt. 21:22). Faith is also the
essential element of prayer in an earlier passage in Mt. 17:20:
‘Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to
you, if you have faith as a grain
of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain,
`Move from here to there,' and
it will move; and nothing will be impossible to
you.’
Due to the ambiguous use of πίστις in both Mt.
17:20 and 21:22, it is unclear whether these passages teach the importance of
faith in oneself or faith in God. Since the prayer is addressed
to the mountain in both Mt. 17:20, 21:21 and Mk. 11:23 rather than to
God, this suggests that God does not have a role in the process and
consequently the faith that is required is the pray-er’s faith in his own
skills and abilities. Similarly, as the tree uproots itself directly in
obedience to the pray-er in the Lukan version of the mustard seed teaching,
this clearly suggests that it is the pray-er himself who has the ability to
uproot the sycamine tree and that this miracle can be achieved independently of
a higher spiritual power:
‘if you had faith as a grain of mustard seed, you
could say to this sycamine
tree ‘be rooted up, and be planted in the sea,’ and
it would obey you.’
(my emphasis, Lk. 17:6).
In the Markan version of the fig tree pericope, the πίστις of the pray-er is understood unequivocally as having faith in one’s own
words and actions and these are the factors that are required to achieve a
miracle. The author of Mark states that a miracle will occur if the pray-er
‘does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass’
(Mk. 11:23).
The obvious connotations of magical instruction that are present this statement
are softened by the evangelist who introduces the importance of prayer in the
following verse (11:24), however the confidence in the operator’s ability to
receive miracle-working power through his will alone is made increasingly
explicit in the second half of the verse which states that the pray-er must
simply ‘believe that you have received it, and it will be yours’. This
confidence in a guaranteed response from God is also echoed elsewhere in the
Gospels in the statement ‘ask and it will be given you’ (Lk. 11:9, Mt. 7:7), a
phrase which Morton Smith claims has parallels within the magical papyri.[63]
The words of Jesus in Mk. 11:23 have a certain
arrogance to them that imitates those of the ancient magician who believes that
his words alone will suffice to produce miracles and that the gods are bound to
his every whim. Having refused in the temptation narratives to perform magical
feats for self-gain or to test the potency of his powers (Mt. 4:3-11//Lk.
4:3-13), here we have Jesus boasting to the disciples that he can do whatever
he wills to do and actively using his power to achieve frivolous results. Equally,
having taught the disciples ‘do not rejoice that the spirits are subject to
you’ (Lk. 10:20) in an attempt to subdue their enthusiasm concerning their new
found abilities, here Jesus appears to be randomly exploiting his powers for
his own amusement. Furthermore, by having Jesus instruct the disciples
regarding the technicalities of his own abilities to perform miracles
(hence the physical display of his power by withering the fig tree) the author
of Mark implies that this miracle-working power can be shared by anyone who is
instructed in the methodology and technique used by Jesus. Not only does the
transferable nature of this power carry serious implications for magical
practice but since Jesus’ instructions to his disciples are typically carried out
in secret throughout the Gospels, we may ask whether previous occasions in
which Jesus has withdrawn with his disciples to impart secret knowledge to them
involved the teaching of similar magical techniques.
If the reader of the Gospels is to understand that
an impossible task, such as moving a mountain, can be achieved on the strength
of will alone, then is the reader to assume that equally impossible tasks that
are reported in the ministry of Jesus, such as healing the sick, walking on the
water and transforming water into wine, were also performed on the strength of
Jesus’ will? While certain ‘impossible’ miracles attributed to Jesus in the
Gospels have clear parallels within the magical tradition[65], there are
undoubtedly instances in which a healing appears to take place simply because
Jesus wills it to happen. For example, the leper who approaches Jesus to be
healed begs ‘if you will, you can make me clean’ and Jesus’ healing command in
all three Synoptics is simply ‘I will (θέλω); be clean’ (Mk. 1:40-45//Mt. 8:2-4//Lk. 5:12-16). The healing potency
of Jesus’ will in this instance is made more explicit in the account provided
in the Egerton Gospel which omits the mention of touch:
‘“If, therefore, you are willing, I am cleansed.”
The Lord said to him, “I am
If in order to perform a miracle, the disciples
must simply ‘believe that you have received it, and it will be yours’ (Mk.
11:24) then this could account for occasions within the Gospels whereby an
individual’s faith in a cure appears to be the effective factor in their
salvation. For instance, the haemorrhaging woman in Mk. 5:28//Mt. 9:21 believes
that if she can just touch Jesus’ clothing then she will be healed and this
confidence facilitates her healing, which appears to be achieved independently
of a bestowal of power from Jesus. Similarly, Jesus tells the possessed boy’s
father in Mk. 9:23 that ‘all things are possible to the one who believes’ and
when Peter begins to sink in the water when attempting to walk on the sea,
Jesus says to him ‘O man of little faith, why did you doubt?’ (Mt. 14:31).
The possibility that a strong personal will is the
sole prerequisite for the performance of a miracle is rejected by the author of
the Gospel of John who is particularly eager to stress that Jesus does not have
autonomy in the application of his spiritual power and prefers instead to
repeatedly emphasise Jesus’ dependence on God’s will. The statement ‘I can do
nothing on my own authority’ reoccurs frequently throughout the Gospel of John
(5:30, 8:28, 14:10, cf. also 5:19) and the onslaught of passages in which Jesus
reaffirms that he is subject to God’s will is occasionally so intense that it
arouses suspicion as to whether this material is magic apologetic (cf. Jn.
4:34, 7:17). The highest concentration of these anti-magical assertions is
found Jn. 6:38-40:
‘For I have come down from heaven, not to do my
own will, but the will of
him who sent me; and this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose
nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it
up at the last day. For this
is the will of my Father, that every one who sees the Son and believes in him
should have eternal life; and I will raise him up
at the last day.’ (my emphasis)
This relentless importance placed on Jesus’
submission to the will of God suggests that the author of John is attempting to
suppress implications that Jesus had complete autonomy in the use of his
miracle-working powers. However, dependence upon a higher spiritual power
contradicts the observations made by Jesus’ followers and opponents alike that
he has total authority over the application of these powers, especially those made
by the centurion in Mt. 8:5-13//Lk. 7:1-10 (See Chapter 10). Furthermore,
episodes in which Jesus states ‘I can do nothing on my own authority’ stand in
complete contrast to the prayer teaching in Mk. 11:22-24//Mt. 21:21-22 in which
it is the pray-er himself who initiates the miracle and achieves the final
result. The conflict between the Johannine emphasis on Jesus’ submission to the
will of God and the arrogant will of Jesus in the Synoptics (as encountered in
the fig tree pericope) is clearly apparent in Jn. 5:19-21 in which Jesus meekly
states ‘the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his
Father doing’ (Jn. 5:19) only to have the egotistical nature of the magician
resurface in the very next sentence: ‘Even so the Son gives life to whom he is
pleased to give it’ (Jn. 5:21).
Since an arrogant faith in one’s own will and the
assurance of a guaranteed response are both states of mind that were typically
associated with the magician in the ancient world, by teaching that his words and
actions can bring about guaranteed results or that God will respond immediately
to his summons, Jesus steps very firmly into the realm of magic and begins to
speak like a magician. As a sharp distinction is often drawn between the
religious man who reveres his god and entrusts his prayers to the will of the
deity and the magician who makes egotistical and coercive attempts to petition
his god to accomplish whatsoever he desires immediately and automatically,
evidence in the words of Jesus himself, as provided by the evangelists, which
could be construed as being directly coercive towards God would be valuable
confirmation of a magical mind-set. The likelihood of discovering such evidence
in the Gospels is very doubtful, especially since Jesus’ prayers to God are
often shrouded with a secretive and mysterious quality (see Chapter 4) and
any material which implies spiritual manipulation would most certainly have
been edited out by the evangelists. Nevertheless, one passage in the Gospels
that offers a rare glimpse into Jesus’ communication with God is the prayer
scene in Gethsemane. Not only does this passage contain traces of spiritual
coercion, but it also heralds the dramatic failure of the prayer teaching in
Mk. 11:22-24//Mt. 21:21-22 and raises questions concerning a power struggle
between Jesus and his spiritual power-source.
Extract from Helen Ingram (2007) Dragging Down Heaven: Jesus as Magician and Manipulator of Spirits in the Gospels, PhD, The University of Birmingham, UK.
[1] Judah Goldin, ‘On Honi the
Circle-Maker: A Demanding Prayer’, HTR 56. 3 (1963) p. 234.
[7] For examples of the Old
Testament use of ‘finger of God’ cf. Ex. 31:18, Dt. 9:10.
[11] Text 01 in Karl Preisendanz
(ed.), Papyri Graecae Magicae: Die Grieschischen Zauberpapyri, Vol II
(Stuttgart: Teubner 1974) p. 233.
[13] Thomas C. Römer, ‘Competing
Magicians in Exodus 7-9: Interpreting Magic in the Priestly Theology’ in Todd
Klutz (ed.), Magic in the Biblical world: From the Rod of Aaron to the Ring
of Solomon, JSNTsupp 245 (2003) p. 20. To support this statement, Römer
provides reference to a useful study by B. Couroyer entitled ‘Le “doigt de
Dieu” (Exode, VIII, 15)’, RB 63 (1956) pp. 481-95.
[14] Marvin W. Meyer and Richard
Smith (eds.), Ancient Christian Magic: Coptic Texts of Ritual Power
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999) p. 230.
[15] Tran. Meyer and Smith, Ancient Christian Magic, p. 231.
[15] Tran. Meyer and Smith, Ancient Christian Magic, p. 231.
[16] Meyer and Smith, Ancient
Christian Magic p. 279, citing Walter E. Crum Catalogue of the Coptic
Manuscripts in the British Museum (London: British Museum, 1905).
[17] Trans. Meyer and Smith, Ancient
Christian Magic, p. 290. See also Meyer’s
translation
of an amulet to provide protection: ‘I adjure you by Orphamiel, the great
finger of the father’ (p. 116).
[18] Trans. Meyer and Smith, Ancient
Christian Magic, p. 250.
[20] Origen, Con. Cels. I. 46
[23] Augustine, City of God,
particularly VIII. 14-18.
[24] Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 100.
[25] Morton Smith observes that ‘Holy
spirits, with and without the definite article, are familiar in the magical
papyri’ (Smith, Jesus the Magician, p. 103) and he provides references
to PGM I. 313; III. 8, 289, 393, 550; IV. 510, XII. 174 (Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 193).
[26] L. J. Ciraolo ‘Supernatural
Assistants in the Greek Magical Papyri’ in M. Meyer and P. Mirecki (eds.) Ancient
Magic and Ritual Power (Boston: Brill, 1995) p. 280.
[27] Origen, Con. Cels. 1.68.
[28] Lucian, Philopseudes 13.
[29] Philostratus, Life of
Apollonius VIII. 5.
[38] This third category of blasphemy
and its relevance to the charges brought against Jesus is discussed in Tibor
Horvath, ‘Why was Jesus Brought to Pilate?’, NovT 11 (1969) pp. 174-184.
[40] Hans Dieter Betz (ed.), The
Greek Magical Papyri in Translation including the Demotic Spells, 2nd
ed., vol. 1 (University of Chicago Press, 1992) p. 84.
[41] Betz translate ἱερὸν πνευμα in this passage as ‘sacred spirit’ (Hans Dieter Betz, The Greek Magical
Papyri in Translation, p. 48).
[42] For further examples see Smith, Jesus
the Magician, pp. 125-126.
[43] Clement, Recognitions of
Clement, 2:9.
[45] Apuleius, Apologia 26.
[46]
J. M. Hull, Hellenistic Magic and the
Synoptic Tradition, (SBT, 2nd Series 28; London: SCM, 1974) p. 55.
[47] In his authoritative book on the
life of Apollonius of Tyana, G. R. S. Mead writes: ‘Apollonius believed in
prayer, but how differently from the vulgar. For him the idea that the Gods
could be swayed from the path of rigid justice by the entreaties of men, was a
blasphemy; that the Gods could be made parties to our selfish hopes and fears
was to our philosopher unthinkable’, therefore ‘we find Apollonius indignantly
rejecting the accusation of magic ignorantly brought against him…with such arts
he would have nothing to do…but owing to ‘that wisdom which God reveals to the
wise’ ([Philostratus, Life of Apollonius] iv. 44)’ (G. R. S. Mead, Apollonius
of Tyana: The Philosopher-Reformer of the First Century A. D. (New York:
University Books, 1966) pp. 132, 114).
[50] For example, in defending Jesus’
activities against Celsus’ claim that they resemble those of the Egyptian
magicians, Origen states that Jesus uses his powers to encourage faith and
perform good deeds whereas the Egyptian magicians indulge in deeds of
self-interest and evil (Origen, Con. Cels. 1.68, 7.17, 8.43). Similarly,
the Sanhedrin stated that an act which has beneficial results cannot be magic
(bSanh 67b).
[57] Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 119.
[58] Eric Eve, ‘Meier, Miracle and
Multiple Attestation’, JSHJ 3.1 (2005) p. 33.
[59] Regina Dionisopoulos-Mass, ‘The
Evil Eye and Bewitchment in a Peasant Village’, in Clarence Maloney (ed.), The
Evil Eye (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976) pp. 49-50.
[63] Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 131. Smith provides references to PGM IV. 777f: ‘Ask the god whatever you
wish and he will give it you’ and PGM IV. 2172: ‘What you ask, you shall
receive’ (p. 206).
[65] For
example, we have read earlier in this chapter (pg. 285) that the assisting spirit
in the ‘Spell of Pnouthis’ (PGM 1.42-195) can make food appear and grant the magician the ability to
become invisible and walk on water. We have also considered that some of these
skills were attributed to Celsus’ Egyptian magicians, Lucian’s Hyperborean
magician and
Apollonius of Tyana.
[66] Papyrus Egerton 2.2 (trans. Bart
Ehrman, The New Testament and Other Early Christian Writings: A Reader (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1998) p. 134).
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