Previously:

Announcing A New Blog Series: THE QUEST FOR THE HISTORICAL PAUL

The notion of the incarnation is well known from the Gospel of John.  We read

1. The Word Became Flesh (John 1)

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it… 14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

Boyarin comments

In light of this evidence, the Fourth Gospel’s Logos theology is not a new creation in the history of Judaism; its innovation is only, if even this, in its incarnational Christology, namely the taking on of flesh by the Logos in v 14. John 1.1– 5 is not a hymn or a poem, but a midrash, that is, a homily, on Gen 1.1– 5. The very phrase that opens the Gospel, “In the beginning,” shows that creation is the focus of the text. The rest of the Prologue applies the midrash of the Logos to the appearance of Jesus. Only from Jn 1.14, which announces that the “Word became flesh,” does the narrative begins to diverge from synagogue teaching. Until v 14, John’s Prologue is a piece of perfectly unexceptional Jewish thought that has been seamlessly woven into the christological narrative of the Gospel. (Boyarin, Daniel.  Logos, A Jewish Word John’s Prologue as Midrash in Amy-Jill Levine; Marc Zvi Brettler. The Jewish Annotated New Testament (p. 691). Oxford University Press. Kindle Edition)

So, what is the word becoming flesh doing there?  We see similar incarnation theology in Philippians:

1. Paul’s Philippian Christ Hymn (Philippians 2:6-11)

6 who, though he existed in the form of God,

    did not regard equality with God

    as something to be grasped,

7 but emptied himself,

    taking the form of a slave,

    assuming human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a human,

8     he humbled himself

    and became obedient to the point of death—

    even death on a cross.

9 Therefore God exalted him even more highly

    and gave him the name

    that is above every other name,

10 so that at the name given to Jesus

    every knee should bend,

    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

11 and every tongue should confess

    that Jesus Christ is Lord,

    to the glory of God the Father.

I’ve argued elsewhere for a late date for Paul, so what I will suggest is what we are seeing here are John and Paul appropriating the Q source, specifically in the transition from Q1 to Q2.  Q is the material shared by Matthew and Luke that does not come from Mark.

No Old Testament hero is explicitly framed as a Cynic sage, but figures like Elijah, Amos, Jonah, and Qoheleth exhibit traits—social critique, simplicity, provocative rhetoric—that resonate with Cynic characteristics. These parallels are limited by their firm grounding in Jewish prophetic or wisdom traditions. In contrast, Q’s Jesus more closely approximates a Cynic sage through his itinerant lifestyle and aphoristic teachings, while still retaining a strong Jewish prophetic identity, making him a unique synthesis of Jewish/Pagan ideologies compared to Old Testament predecessors. 

Q is sometimes divided into 3 strata.  Regarding Q’s oldest stratum Q1, the Drew University review of Price’s “Deconstructing Jesus” helpfully summarizes:

Price gives us ten pages [151-160] of parallels between the sayings of Q1 (the apparent bedrock layer of the Q document) and Cynic-style pronouncements of famous sages like Epictetus, Seneca, or of those reporting on Cynic philosophers, such as Diogenes Laertius. There seems little doubt of the ultimate provenance of the core teachings of the Gospel Jesus — and it isn’t a Jewish one. This makes exceedingly ironic the modern appeal on the part of religious conservatives to a Christianity that preserves a so-called Judaeo-Christian tradition: something which in actuality constitutes an ethic that is Greek and a philosophy and ritual of salvation derived from the thoroughly Hellenistic ethos of the mystery cults.  Price suggests that Q1, “far from allowing us access for the first time to the historical Jesus, is instead inconsistent with an historical Jesus” [p.150]. While people like Burton Mack detect (quite rightly) a pronounced character to the Q1 sayings, one of sly humor and wise common sense, supposedly implying a definite personality, the same features can equally be found in the body of Cynic sayings to which they have been compared, sayings which identifiably “stem from many different Cynic philosophers over several centuries.” If the latter sayings do not need to have come from a single person, Price reasons, neither do those attributed to Jesus…He further observes that with virtually all other sayings collections of the ancient world attributed to a prominent figure (such as the many to Solomon or the collections of psalms ascribed to David), such attribution is fictive, the figure himself legendary. Price notes that attributing anonymous or traditional sayings to an authority figure is a fundamental shift on the part of a “canonical mindset.” Rather than let the inherent wisdom of such sayings stand on their own, self-evident and proverbially established from experience, their legitimacy becomes grounded in the fact that they were spoken by some respected or glorified figure, whose pipeline to a higher divinity is emphasized. By imposing theology, the sayings shift to the realm of revelation and prophecy. As “proverbs (that) enshrine wisdom, not revelation,” the attribution of Q1 to a Jesus is uncharacteristic of the proverb genre and suggests a later development.  Price postulates that this Q Cynic root entered the Jewish Kingdom movement by way of the Godfearers, those gentiles attached to Judaism. He agrees (with myself) that the Q base of sayings had no narrative settings, no controversy stories. In the Gospels, the apparent point of a saying itself often makes a less-than-perfect fit with the set-up situation the evangelists provide for it, as though the exact significance of the original saying was lost or confused when adapted to its new milieu. The controversy stories, with Jesus as the star character, are consequently later additions, offering a singular, heroic originator who is simply an ideal figure.

I think the reviewer overstates the monopoly of pagan cynic thought on Q1, ignoring how Q1 is also fused with Jewish tradition.  For example,  Serge Ruzer, in particular, has explored this in detail, arguing that the “love your enemy” precept emerges from Jewish exegetical trends during the Second Temple period, where interpretations of Leviticus gradually challenged community-bound ethics (as in the halakhic midrash Sifra on Lev. 19:18, which permitted revenge against outsiders) to include outsiders or enemies.  The core of these Q1 sayings is firmly grounded in Jewish ethical trajectories, making them an extension of Torah-based love and a fusion with cynic pagan ideas.

Price notes additionally, we can demonstrate that every hortatory saying in the New Testament is so closely paralleled in contemporary Rabbinic or Hellenistic lore that there is no particular reason to be sure this or that saying originated with Jesus. Such words commonly passed from one famous name to another, especially in Jewish circles, as Jacob Neusner has shown. Jesus might have said it, sure, but then he was just one more voice in the general choir. Is that what we want to know about him? And, as Bultmann observed, who remembers the great man quoting somebody else?

Q1 are Sapiential (wisdom) sayings, Cynic-like, focusing on ethical instructions and social critique.  Q2 are prophetic and eschatological sayings and narratives, emphasizing judgment, conflict, and Jesus’ divine authority.  Q3 are biographical or theological narrative elements, often later additions framing Jesus’ identity.

Some Nietzsche scholars think Nietzsche may have discovered the Q1 Jesus in distinction to later Q2 and Q3 Jesuses even though critical biblical studies wouldn’t notice it until later, Goicoechea noting

This first saying of the Jesus of Q1 is momentous in that it announces the agapeic universal love that extends the command to love neighbors not only as the ones who are near or part of the chosen people, but it now includes all with special emphasis upon loving one’s enemy. This all loving Jesus of Q1 is the same Jesus that Nietzsche focused upon in the Anti-Christ as he distinguished the all loving Jesus from the judging Christ in order to center his philosophy on that Jesus. (Goicoechea, David. Agape and the Four Loves with Nietzsche, Father, and Q: A Physiology of Reconciliation from the Greeks to Today (p. 11). Pickwick Publishers – An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers. Kindle Edition).

This fits with Nietzsche’s revaluation philosophy where an enemy is not inherently bad but reflects how you interpret them (that which does not kill me makes me stronger).  In the notebooks Nietzsche describes his ideal Overman as Caesar with the soul of Christ.

Q1 (earlier layer) is often characterized as containing wisdom-oriented, practical teachings—parables and sayings emphasizing love, compassion, and ethical living (e.g., the Beatitudes, love your enemies, turn the other cheek). This aligns with a “loving Jesus” who emphasizes mercy, inclusivity, and non-retaliation. Examples include sayings like “Blessed are the poor” (Luke 6:20) or “Love your enemies” (Luke 6:27).

Q2 (later layer) is seen as introducing more apocalyptic and judgmental themes, with warnings of divine judgment, repentance, and consequences for rejecting the message (e.g., woes against the Pharisees, warnings about the coming judgment). This portrays a “judging Jesus” concerned with accountability and eschatological outcomes, as seen in sayings like the woes on Chorazin and Bethsaida (Luke 10:13-15).  Some see these layers reflecting evolving community concerns, from ethical teachings to apocalyptic urgency

Unlike Q1’s message-focused wisdom sayings and Q2’s messenger-focused prophetic and apocalyptic material, Q3 integrates Q’s teachings into a gospel-like narrative, aligning with early Christian theology. This complements the Elijah-Elisha parallel and Q2’s reinforcing Q’s Jewish prophetic context without reference to a salvific cross.   

Mack provides a helpful summary of transitioning from Q1 to Q2 as the loving Jesus becomes the authoritative judging Christ:

A sudden shift in tone awaits the reader of Q2. The new temperament is so strongly profiled that a comparison with the sayings in Q1 is unavoidable and the contrast in mood overwhelming. It is a shift for which one has not been prepared, and the effect is stunning. The aphoristic style of Q1 falls away almost to the point of disappearing. Aphoristic imperatives are gone, as is the sense of confidence in God’s care derived from the way in which nature provides for basic needs. In its place one hears the voice of a prophet pronouncing judgment on a recalcitrant world, a prophet who does not refrain from castigation and the sledge of apocalyptic threat. The shift in tone is matched by a panoply of new forms of speech. In contrast to Q1 the reader now encounters narratives, dialogue, controversy stories, examples taken from epic tradition, descriptive parables, warnings, and apocalyptic announcements. If one looks for corresponding changes in the rhetoric and style of discourse one is not disappointed. Instead of exhortation (“Don’t worry”), there is pronouncement (“The last will be first, and the first will be last”). Instead of imperatives (“Love your enemies”), there is direct statement (“I came to strike fire on the earth”). Indirect address (“Who then is the faithful servant”) is interspersed with direct address (“You must be ready”). Formulas of reciprocity, such as “The standard you use is the standard used against you,” are tightened and shift their setting of consequence from what happens in the public sphere to what will happen in the kingdom of God. And all of these judgments and verdicts are rendered with an authority that does not brook appeal. New ideas also are encountered. The expanded horizon introduces figures from the epic tradition. A man named John enters the picture. There is reference to the wisdom of God and the holy spirit. There are two miracle stories and warnings about what to say when put on trial. The rule of God is now spoken of as a kingdom to be fully revealed at some other place and time, presumably at the end of time. And a final judgment is described replete with thrones, court scenes, banishments, and a threatening figure called the son of man. A listing of the major blocks of material in Q2 illustrates the shift that took place and the constant presence of the theme of judgment.  (Mack, Burton L.. The Lost Gospel: The Book of Q and Christian Origins (p. 132). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition).

In the Bible we see composition reflecting stages like this, such as First-Isaiah/ Deutero-Isaiah/Trito-Isaiah.  In First Isaiah, Isaiah is the central prophetic figure, with historical figures like King Hezekiah (Isaiah 36–39) and symbolic figures like the “virgin” or “Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14). No major new characters are introduced later within this section. This section reflects a unified prophetic voice, though redaction likely occurred later to organize oracles.  Deutero-Isaiah introduces the “Servant” as a key figure, possibly Israel collectively, an individual, or a prophetic figure. New characters like Cyrus of Persia (Isaiah 45:1) emerge as God’s agent for restoration. Isaiah himself is not named, suggesting a shift in focus.  This section is a later addition, reflecting a new historical context (exile vs. Assyrian threat). The Servant is a new thematic “character” (or role), though not necessarily a named individual.  In Trito-Isaiah no single named prophet dominates; the focus is on the restored community and God’s universal reign. The Servant motif fades, and new figures like the “watchmen” (Isaiah 62:6) or personified Zion (Isaiah 60) appear.  This section is a later addition, reflecting a new historical context (exile vs. Assyrian threat).  This section reflects a further stage, addressing post-exilic challenges, with a shift toward communal and eschatological themes.

Similarly, the Moses story’s staged development, with new characters (e.g., Phinehas, future prophet) introduced in later layers, parallels Q’s progression to a defined Jesus character in Q2. Later Pentateuchal layers clarify Moses’ legacy and introduce figures to expand the story’s scope. 

Also, the stories of Elijah and Elisha likely originated as oral traditions (ca. 9th–8th century BCE) and were compiled and expanded during the monarchic and exilic periods (ca. 8th–6th century BCE). Redactional layers added theological depth and new figures.  Early traditions focus on Elijah as a solitary prophet confronting Ahab and Baal worshippers (1 Kings 17–19). Key figures include Ahab, Jezebel, and the widow of Zarephath.  Elisha is introduced as Elijah’s successor (1 Kings 19:19–21), bringing new characters like Naaman (2 Kings 5) and the “sons of the prophets” (2 Kings 2:3–15). Later redactions emphasize Elisha’s miracles and political role (2 Kings 8–9), possibly reflecting exilic concerns about prophetic continuity.  The introduction of Elisha as a new central figure in the narrative cycle mirrors Q2’s explicit development of Jesus, transitioning from Q1’ sayings to a defined prophetic identity. The Elijah-Elisha cycle’s development over time, with new characters added to expand the story, closely parallels Q’s layered growth.  Likewise, the addition of the Son of Man and angelic figures in Daniel 7–12 aligns well with Q2’s apocalyptic sayings and defining of Jesus, particularly given the difference between the “Son of Man” motif in Q1 and Q2.  The idea of imagining a new and greater Son of Man (which also just means “human”) pervades the early literature, such as Mark 10:45.

Sayings or traditions that were initially free-floating or communal were later placed on the lips of figures like Solomon, David, or Job to anchor them in a narrative or authoritative context. Unlike Q, however, Old Testament texts have surviving manuscripts, but their complex compositional history (evident in textual variants like the Septuagint or Dead Sea Scrolls) supports the idea of editorial attribution.

John the Baptist as a forerunner of Jesus is paralleled by Elijah giving a double portion of his power to Elisha.  In Q, John’s announcement of the “mightier” one mirrors Elijah’s preparation of Elisha. Jesus’ baptism “with the Holy Spirit and fire” and his divine commissioning (“You are my Son”) parallel Elisha’s reception of Elijah’s spirit, suggesting Jesus inherits and surpasses John’s prophetic role. Q explicitly elevates Jesus’ kingdom mission above John, akin to Elisha’s greater deeds.

Just as Elisha’s role is clarified in later texts (2 Kings 2), Jesus’ identity is defined in Q2.  In the Elijah-Elisha cycle, Elisha is introduced partway through (1 Kings 19:19–21), shifting the narrative focus. Similarly, John the Baptist appears in Q2 as a forerunner, with Jesus named explicitly in Q2 narratives, marking a later stage of Q’s development.  Mark symbolizes this too to start out his Gospel.  Mark says “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ ; as it is written in the prophets.” Mark immediately interprets John the Baptist as a forerunner of the Messiah (a la Elijah in II Kings 1:8). Mark then clothes John similar to Elijah (Mark 1:6. II Kings 1:8.) He then says John ate locusts and wild honey, the food of the wilderness in which Elijah lived (and so on and so on).  In view of parallels elsewhere between John and Jesus on the one hand and Elijah and Elisha on the other, some (Miller, p. 48) also see in the Jordan baptism and the endowment with the spirit a repetition of 2 Kings 2, where, near the Jordan, Elijah bequeaths a double portion of his own miracle-working spirit to Elisha, who henceforth functions as his successor and superior.

Figurative crucifixion language in Q “take  up your cross” may have later been taken up and developed into the salvific cross, like Crossan in “The Power of Parable” talks about fictions by Jesus transform into fictions about Jesus, in Q this would be transforming a figurative death text (take up your cross) in Q into a literal salvific one in the synoptics.  And we know this kind of allegorizing of Q is exactly the sort of thing later writers like Matthew were doing such as taking the Q saying of the sign of Jonah which was about preaching and repentance and turning it into haggadic midrash about the resurrection, Matt 12:40.  Why was Jesus specifically resurrected after 3 days, noted in our sources from Paul to Matthew? Jesus was being dead for 3 days and resurrected as Jonah was 3 days in the belly of the fish.  This expansion in the synoptics seems to be where Paul gets his claim “Jesus was buried and raised on the 3^rd day according to the scriptures (1 Cor 15:3-4)” from.  As I said, the earlier passage in 1 Corinthians pairs with the synoptics claiming Chris died “according to the scriptures” referencing such passages as 2^nd Isaiah and Psalms in Mark, Deuteronomy in Paul, and from Matthew “Wisdom of Solomon,” which suggests Paul knew the gospels as Livesey’s argument implies.  We thus also see the turning of the Jewish elite and crowd against Jesus and God’s subsequent wrath against the Jews as an allegorizing of Q saying QS 49 the Lament over Jerusalem:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you refused. Look, your house is left desolate. Now, I tell you, you will not see me until you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”  Mack, Burton L.. The Lost Gospel: The Book of Q and Christian Origins (p. 98). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

Now, it is regularly and routinely maintained by New Testament scholars that one of the striking features of Q is that it contains a list of Jesus’ sayings and no passion narrative – no account of Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Scholars then draw a conclusion: the death of Jesus was not important to the community that produced the Q document.  It has been hypothesized that Q was more like the Gospel of Thomas, another gospel that consists of sayings of Jesus without a passion narrative.  For the Gospel of Thomas it is not the death and resurrection of Jesus that brings salvation.  It is the correct interpretation of his “secret sayings.” In this way, John and Paul will be expanding on Q with cross theology, but we haven’t yet clearly thought how John and Paul are appropriating Q.

The Q source is typically divided into Q1, a later Q2, and a final Q 3 stratum.  Paul’s Romans’ ethic of love of enemy parallels that saying in Q1 but is more sophisticated.  So, Paul might have known Q.  It seems absurd to Ehrman that the Q source and Paul being very early that Q would lack a passion narrative because this would suggest massive contrariety between the various early communities, but it makes good sense under Livesey’s late Pauline model.

Paul’s call to bless persecutors aligns more with Q1’s ethic than Q2’s judgment-oriented tone.  The main similarities between Paul’s authentic letters and the Q source are: ethical teachings on love and non-retaliation (Romans 12:14–21); eschatological expectation (1 Thessalonians 4:15–17); kingdom of God as a transformative reality (Romans 14:17); Jewish roots with universal appeal (Romans 1:16); community ethics and discipleship (1 Corinthians 13).  Q1’s message-focused ethics closely align with Paul’s, while Q2’s messenger-focused eschatology shares his urgency, and Q3’s minimal theological framing approaches his Christology. Unlike Paul and the Gospel of John, Q lacks indwelling spirit and salvific cross motifs, emphasizing Jesus’ teachings and prophetic role.  But, as we will see both John and Paul seem to have a homily on Q as a whole.

Likewise to Jesus appearing a judging prophet in Q2, Paul seems to be a generic figure of the one prophesied to bring the message of God to the pagans for the end time, Jesus being the one to bring the message to the Jews.  In this way, they function as generic figures the inserted into history.  Berman notes making a different argument than I am here, we seem to have Paul being placed in different time periods.  Paul says in his letter to the Corinthians he fled from King Aretas in a basket, which puts him in the 30s CE.  By contrast, Acts mentions Paul was pleading with Felix and Herod Agrippa the second, which would place Paul around 61CE.  Likewise, In Galatians we have Paul arguing with James, supposedly the brother of Jesus.  Josephus mentions James’ death circa 62 CE.  By contrast, Jerome identifies Saul/Paul as a young man during the events of the 70s CE war and writing in the 90s, which would agree with the Acts of Timothy identifying Paul’s companion and writing partner Timothy dying at the turn of the second century rather than the Paul arguing with James. 

Regarding the interpretations of Jesus as the Son of Man in Q1 and Q2, in the Book of Daniel, chapter 7, the vision describes “one like a son of man” (verse 13) as a singular, human-like figure who approaches the Ancient of Days on the clouds of heaven and is granted everlasting dominion, glory, and a kingdom that all peoples and nations will serve (verse 14). This portrayal has often been interpreted as an individual entity—potentially a messianic king, an angelic being (such as Michael), or a divine-human representative—who embodies authority and victory over oppressive earthly kingdoms symbolized by the four beasts. This is close to the judging Jesus of Q2 who would perhaps would later become the apocalyptic messianic claimant of Mark if Mark knew Q. 

In contrast, the angelic interpretation of the vision in Daniel (verses 17–18, 21–22, 27) attributes the reception and possession of this eternal kingdom not to a single figure, but to a collective/corporate  Son of Man who are the “saints [or holy ones] of the Most High,” depicted as a collective group of faithful people (likely righteous Israel or the persecuted Jewish community) who endure warfare from the beasts but ultimately prevail and rule forever.  In the Q source, what we seem to have is the figurative universalist loving sage of the Q1 aphorisms who is symbolic of a wise cynic-Jewish school/community and their Word (aphorisms), who in Q2 incarnates into the apocalyptic Judging Christ of Q2.  The symbolic figurehead of the philosophical/religious cynic-Jewish school, Jesus is the new and greater personification/incarnation of divine Wisdom.    Philo often portrays Wisdom as a divine guide for the soul’s ascent to God, akin to Plato’s ascent to the Form of the Good or Beauty. In On the Special Laws IV (§123ff), he describes the purified soul of the wise person as being inspired and guided by the Logos (interchangeable with Wisdom), which helps it transcend material desires and achieve a virtuous life.  Similarly, in On Noah’s Work as a Planter (§§18–20), Wisdom is allegorically depicted as a divine principle that plants virtues in the soul, enabling it to grow toward divine understanding.  In On the Sacrifices of Abel and Cain (§§64–68), Philo identifies Wisdom with the Logos, describing it as the divine principle through which God created the universe. He allegorically interprets Exodus 17:6, stating that Wisdom (Sophia) is the “Word” (Logos) that “stood before any created being,” echoing Proverbs 8:23, where Wisdom is present at creation. Wisdom is depicted as a divine entity that allows humans to cultivate virtue and depart from passions, acting as God’s intermediary in both cosmic and moral spheres.

Mack comments:

Mythmaking in the Jesus movement at the Q2 stage was an act of creative borrowing and the clever rearrangement of fascinating figures from several other vibrant mythologies of the time. The two figures of primary importance for constructing the mythology of Q were the wisdom of God and the son of man. These figures, together with the concept of the spirit of God, were used to link the epic traditions of Israel with an apocalyptic finale and so create a single comprehensive vision of history that put the people of Q in the right place at the right time. The role of Jesus was appropriately reconceived, and because it now had to combine the functions of a wisdom teacher with those of an apocalyptic prophet, the figure of John was introduced. Each of these important figures, wisdom, son of man, and John, enter the Q tradition at the Q2 level. Each figure is intricately related to the others and to a new significance that is given to the expanded instructions of Jesus… The figure of the wisdom of God was created by Jewish scribes in the aftermath of the Babylonian exile. The destruction of Jerusalem and the exile (587–539 B.C.E.) canceled out the effectiveness of the scribal wisdom that had been generated during the kingdoms of Judah and Israel. Scribal wisdom refers both to a body of knowledge and to the idiom in which Israel and other peoples in the ancient near east thought about life, ethics, and human relations. Scribal wisdom assumed the existence of a temple-state, and intellectuals in the scribal tradition imagined the perfect society on the temple-state model. With Jerusalem in ruins and its social structures destroyed, however, Jewish intellectuals of the post-exilic period were confronted with more questions than answers. To acknowledge the crisis, some said that wisdom was no longer to be found in the world. To keep the memory of wisdom alive while the long slow process of rebuilding a safe and sane society was undertaken in the so-called restoration of Jerusalem, the scribes imagined that wisdom was now to be found only with God. Naturally, there were poems about unsuccessful attempts to find wisdom in the world (Job 28). But then, gradually, other poems began to appear about God and wisdom together creating the world as an ordered habitation (Prov. 8:22–31), about wisdom appearing incognito at the city gates and crying out to be recognized (Prov. 1:20–33), and eventually about wisdom taking up residence again in the rebuilt temple at Jerusalem (Sir. 24). Thus a mythology of wisdom emerged.  Mack, Burton L.. The Lost Gospel: The Book of Q and Christian Origins (p. 150). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

The Book of Proverbs frequently personifies Wisdom as a woman who offers guidance and instruction. In Proverbs 8, Wisdom is depicted as actively involved in creation, even claiming to have been present with God as his “architect” or “master workman.  In The Wisdom of Solomon, this book further develops the idea of Wisdom as a divine figure, describing her as the one who formed humans and whose influence reaches to all things. She is portrayed as a source of knowledge, righteousness, and immortality.  Some scholars argue that the concept of personified Wisdom influenced other Jewish texts, including those found in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Furthermore, Wisdom is also connected to the concept of Torah (Jewish law) in some texts, such as 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch.  Some interpretations see Wisdom as a distinct divine being or even a pre-incarnate form of Christ, others view her as a personification of God’s attributes or a powerful force within creation.  The concept of personified Wisdom in Jewish literature influenced early Christian thought, particularly in the Gospel of John, which identifies Jesus with the “Word” (Logos) of God, which is closely related to the Jewish concept of Wisdom.

This seems to be where the name Jesus comes from.  The Old Testament explicitly associates Joshua (which is what the name Jesus means, “God saves”) with divine wisdom through the “spirit of wisdom” imparted to him. In Deuteronomy 34:9, it states: “Now Joshua son of Nun was filled with the spirit of wisdom, for Moses had laid his hands on him. So the Israelites obeyed him, doing just as the LORD had commanded Moses.” This “spirit of wisdom” is portrayed as a divine endowment from God, enabling Joshua’s leadership and success. Similar language appears elsewhere in the Old Testament, such as in Exodus 31:3, where artisans are filled with the “Spirit of God, with wisdom,” indicating a divine gifting for tasks aligned with God’s will. This connects Joshua to the broader Old Testament theme of wisdom as a divine attribute or force, and is developed with the personified Wisdom (Hebrew Chokhmah) of Proverbs, who is depicted as an entity co-existing with God at creation (Proverbs 8:22–31).  In some biblical commentaries and theological interpretations, Joshua’s reliance on God-given wisdom for conquest and governance (e.g., Joshua 1:7–8, where he is commanded to meditate on the law for prosperous wisdom) echoes the Old Testament’s portrayal of wisdom as essential for righteous rule. Jewish and Christian traditions extend this to see Joshua as embodying practical wisdom from God, though he is not Wisdom incarnate.  The popularity of the Jewish hero Joshua in the early first century reflected the explosion of Messianic claimants (e.g., the Egyptian, Theudas) who wanted to re-enact the role of Joshua in alignment with the Weeks prophecy of Daniel.  The loving figurative Jesus personifying the community of aphorisms of the Q1 school as the new and greater Joshua has the name Jesus/Joshua in Q1, but only earns it when he becomes the judgmental prophet of Q2, and fully realizes it as the apocalyptic Davidic Messiah of Paul (Romans 1:3,) and the Gospels.

As such, Jesus is going to be seen in Paul initially being in the form (morphe) of God in Q1, but translating to human likeness, whereafter his service his name/role being exalted to “Lord Jesus” in Paul’s Philippians Christ Hymn.  Too, with the word becoming flesh in John, both Paul and John are apparently commenting on Jesus receiving his role as a prophet when transitioning from a corporate interpretation of the new and greater Danielic Son of Man collective cynic Godly Q1 community of aphorisms (Corporate Son of Man as “holy ones of the Most High” in Daniel 7:18, 22, 27) to an actual judging apocalyptic prophet Son of Man in Q2.  The Jesus of Q1 is thus symbolic, a fictive head (individual kurios) for the body (corporate), who is translated into the literar judging Christ of the Q 2 pencil. 

As a synthesis of pagan cynic and Jewish thought, the fictive representative head of such a Q1 school/community would be the Parousia (in Plato’s sense) or incarnation/personification of Wisdom.  First in Plato’s Greek, “Parousia” refers to the becoming incarnate of something, e.g., the beautiful mansion may be encountered as (i) Houseness and (ii) Beauty incarnate: now that’s a house! – “I hold and am assured in my own mind that nothing makes a thing beautiful but the presence (parousia) and participation of beauty in whatever way or manner obtained; for as to the manner I am uncertain, but I stoutly contend that by beauty all beautiful things become beautiful (Plato, Phaedo, 100d; also see Symposium 210a–212a).”  Aristotle gives the examples of morphe/form as a great painting as “Art” or the majestic circling bird of prey as “Nature.”  John 1 and Paul’s Philippian Christ Hymn are thus haggadic midrash recapitulating the twofold singular/corporate son of man imagery in Daniel.  In this way John’s prologue and Paul’s Philippian Christ hymn seem to be homilies on the translation of the symbolic loving Jesus of Q1 to the flesh and blood prophet of Q 2:

If Paul is late, it’s clear what his incarnation narrative in Philippians is doing revising John 1.  John wants to stress the identity of his Word with God, since there were other gospels teaching different things: “These things are said so you will believe.”  However, it’s unclear how the indwelling Spirit in John will protect the believer against sin.  Paul by contrast wants to stress the resurrection, that if Christ is not raised your faith is futile and you’re still in your sin.  What was done by God to Jesus (the resurrection being something God did to Jesus in Paul’s Greek), would also be done to us, since if the dead are not raised we might as well be gluttons and drunks for tomorrow we die.  For Paul, the resurrected Christ in you is a refining of John’s assisting paraclete because Paul wants to stress it is the mind of Christ in you who has a revulsion to sin as one might have a revulsion to Brussel sprouts occasioned by seeing ourselves implicated in Christ’s unjust death circumcising our evil hearts to reveal the Law written on them. This goes beyond John’s “advising” indwelling spirit.

The name/title lord is only proper to Jesus after the incarnation, the Philippian Jesus is rewarded with the name and John only names Jesus after the word becomes flesh.  This reflects adoption in the ancient world and how an adopted Son is greater than a natural one and assumes a name, e.g., Octavian becoming Caesar’s adopted son and given the name Augustus (“majestic,” “venerable,” or “great”) by the senate.  Thus, in the Philippian Christ Hymn we have the idea of a paradigmatic servant to mankind being exalted for his service and given the designation lord, “above every name” (in Philippians 2:9).”  “Jesus” literally means “God Saves.” An adopted son was more beloved than a natural son in the ancient world because adoption is a choice (see Michael Peppard, The Son of God in the Roman World).  This was the primary meaning of the resurrection before it took on a Pharisaic tint focusing on referring to humanity’s resurrection.  Ehrman notes:

It was, in fact, often the case that an adopted son in the Roman world was given a greater, higher status than a child who was a son by birth. The “natural” son was who he was more or less by accident; his virtues and fine qualities had nothing to do with the fact that he was born as the child of two parents. The “adopted” son on the other hand – who was normally adopted as an adult — was adopted precisely because of his fine qualities and excellent potential. He was made great because he had demonstrated the potential for greatness, not because of the accident of his birth. This can be seen in the praise showered upon the emperor Trajan by one of his subjects, the famous author Pliny the Younger, who stated that “your merits did indeed call for your adoption as successor long ago.”  That is why it was often the case that adopted sons were already adults when made the legal heir of a powerful figure or aristocrat. And what did it mean to be made the legal heir? It meant inheriting all of the adoptive father’s wealth, property, status, dependents, and clients – in other words, all of the adopted father’s power and prestige. As Roman historian Christiane Kunst has put it: “The adopted son …exchanged his own [status] and took over the status of the adoptive father.”  When the earliest Christians talked about Jesus becoming the Son of God at his resurrection, they were saying something truly remarkable about him. He was made the heir of all that was God’s. He exchanged his status for the status possessed by the Creator and Ruler of all things. He received all of God’s power and privileges. He could defy death. He could forgive sins. He could be the future judge of the earth. He could rule with divine authority. He was for all intents and purposes God.” 

The Philippian Christ Hymn above notes Jesus was in the form/morphe of God but earned an exaltation and name he didn’t previously have.  We say, for example, “good form/well done” when someone is being a genuine or exemplary friend.  Aristotle in Physics gives the example of a great work being Art “incarnate” or a circling eagle being Nature incarnate.  Plato speaks of the parousia or appearing of Beauty and Housensess through the magnificent mansion: now that’s a house!  Plato called Beauty the ekphanestaton, the most properly appearing that lets Being scintillate at the same time. 

Jesus incarnate was God in the limited sense of the Law/Word personified, exemplifying love of God above all else shown through love of widow, orphan, alien, and enemy as more important than self – as demonstrated by his ministry and willingly going to the cross despite terror (e.g., Gethsemane).  No one is sinless (e.g., Jesus’ temple tantrum that led to Roman charges of sedition/leading a revolt as King of the Jews), but he had a sinless disposition and righteous indignation where the Law shone through.  Jesus was thus seditious in the eyes of the world but acting out of righteous indignation in God’s eyes.

Jewish thought often viewed history as cyclical, with God’s judgment and redemption recurring across generations. The destruction of the First Temple (reflected in Lamentations) and the Second Temple (70 CE), followed by the Bar Kokhba disaster, could have been seen as part of a pattern of divine punishment for sin or testing of faith. Lamentations 4:20’s imagery of a fallen leader and a trapped people could have been applied to later tragedy to explain the revolt’s failure as a divine warning or judgment.  It’s thus very simple to grasp our scenario.  One of the key stories in Mark I looked at previously was the trial of Jesus by the corrupt Jewish elite.  A writer post 70 CE may have imagined that the Jewish elite back in the 30s were so vile (such as Mark 11:17) that if God actually had sent the Messiah, they would have arranged his death.  Such a corrupt leadership and slap in the face of God would explain God allowing the Romans to destroy the temple in 70 CE and boot the Jews from the land post Bar Kokhba.  The cycle repeated with Romans killing God’s anointed Simon Bar Kokhba.  As Rillera notes, terrible sin was seen as contaminating the land itself to the point where the land itself would expel the people.

The perceived sinfulness of the Jewish elite around Jesus’s time caused some like Eusebius to claim the tragedies of 70 CE and 135 CE were the results of God’s wrath. If God had sent his especially beloved Messiah Jesus into the world, the world would have tortured and killed him. This happened later with God-chosen Simon Bar Kokhba.

Historical and textual evidence indicates that certain Jewish elites, including high priests, the Sanhedrin, Pharisees, and Sadducees, were perceived as corrupt by various groups during the Second Temple period in the 1st century AD, around the time of Jesus (approximately 4 BC to 30 AD). These perceptions stemmed from accusations of bribery, nepotism, financial exploitation, hypocrisy, violence, and deviation from Torah laws. Below, I’ll outline the key groups who held these views and the supporting evidence from ancient sources. Jesus himself, as depicted in the Gospels, directly criticized Jewish religious leaders for corruption and hypocrisy. For instance, He accused scribes and Pharisees of exploiting widows’ houses while making long prayers for show (Mark 12:40), and called them hypocrites who prioritized human traditions over God’s commands (Matthew 23). His act of overturning the money changers’ tables in the Temple (John 2:13-16; Mark 11:15-17) was a protest against the commercialization of the Temple, referring to it as a “den of thieves” (Jeremiah 7:11), implying profiteering by the priestly elite.

The family of Annas (high priest from 6-15 AD), including his son-in-law Caiaphas (high priest 18-36 AD), controlled Temple operations, charging inflated prices for sacrificial animals and currency exchange, which enriched them at the expense of pilgrims and the poor. This system, known as the “booths of Annas,” was seen as extortionate, with pigeons sold at over ten times the market rate.

Early Christians, building on Jesus’ teachings, viewed these leaders as spiritually and morally bankrupt, contributing to their rejection of Jesus as the Messiah.

The Essenes, a Jewish sect that withdrew to communities like Qumran, explicitly saw the Jerusalem priesthood as corrupt. The Dead Sea Scrolls (discovered in the mid-20th century and dating to the 2nd century BC to 1st century AD) reflect this: They refer to the “Wicked Priest” (likely a reference to Hasmonean or Herodian high priests) who pursued wealth, defiled the Temple, and oppressed the righteous. The Essenes rejected the Hasmonean takeover of the priesthood (after the Maccabean Revolt in the 2nd century BC), viewing it as illegitimate and corrupt due to political appointments and deviation from Zadokite (traditional priestly) lineage. They emphasized asceticism and communal living as an escape from this corruption, and some scrolls prohibit judicial bribery, implying it was a prevalent issue that “profaned the Temple.”

Jesus shared some Essene-like critiques of Temple corruption but diverged by engaging with society rather than withdrawing.

Josephus, a 1st-century Jewish historian, provides indirect evidence of corruption without always condemning it outright (possibly due to his own priestly background and Roman patronage). He describes high priests bribing Roman officials for appointments, such as Ananias (around 50-60 AD) and others in the House of Annas. During the Herodian and Roman periods, high priests were often “puppets” appointed for political loyalty, leading to short tenures and opportunities for graft. Annas was called a “great hoarder of money,” and his family dominated the priesthood through nepotism. Josephus notes violence and plots by priestly families, including the assassination of James (Jesus’ brother) by Annas’ son.

Later Jewish rabbinic texts (compiled in the 2nd-5th centuries AD but reflecting earlier traditions) acknowledge corruption in the Second Temple priesthood. Tannaitic rabbis like Yochanan ben Zakkai criticized priests for evading Temple taxes and failing to tithe, while Amoraic texts describe high priestly families (e.g., Houses of Boethus, Hanin/Annas, Kathros, and Ishmael) as greedy, violent, and oppressive. They stole tithes meant for lower priests, causing starvation among them.

These writings, including the Babylonian Talmud (Pesahim) and Tosefta (Menahot), lament the priesthood’s decline, attributing it to Hasmonean political corruption and Roman influence.

Many Jews respected the Temple and its leaders, and the elite maintained power through Roman alliances. However, resentment was widespread enough to contribute to social unrest, including the Jewish Revolt (66-70 AD), which led to the Temple’s destruction—a event Jesus predicted as judgment on corrupt leadership (Mark 13).

Conclusion

The idea that Q1 stems from a Cynic-like school rather than a single sage like Jesus is plausible under the supportive view: It could reflect a communal collection of proverbs from a Hellenistic-Jewish “Q people” group, evolving over time and later attributed to Jesus, similar to how Cynic sayings were compiled and credited to figures like Diogenes.   This would be a “school” of Cynic-like sages, where sayings were elaborated into chreiai by followers, not requiring an original context or single author.  Price extends this, suggesting Q1’s “cynical flavor” (sly humor, practical wisdom) fits multi-generational compilations, entering Judaism via Godfearers.  Jesus as being in the form of God who takes on human likeness in Philippians and the Word that becomes flesh in John would thus be homilies expounding on Daniel’s twofold son of man as corporate (the Q1 community/school and its aphorisms, Daniel’s holy ones of God) and the authoritative judging Christ of Q2. The development from the fictive head of Cynic/Jewish community of aphorisms in Q1 incarnating into to the judging prophet in Q would be realized in the Gospels and Paul with Death/Resurrection theology, which Q lacks. Ehrman notes it seems absurd that Paul as a very early source and Q as a very early source would have one all about the cross and resurrection, with the other unaware of it. That’s another reason I date Paul late. The Christian incarnation would be the Word as the Jewish/Cynic Q1 wisdom teaching being rethought as the flesh and blood prophet Jesus as wisdom incarnate.

Lat time I shared a Paul essay, and have 3 more to share over the next few months as they get reviewed.

Next Time:

Paul and the Churches: From Corinth to Rome