The Coptic Translation of Epiphanius of Salamis’s Ancoratus and the Origenist Controversy in Upper Egypt

Christian H. Bull

doi:10.1515/zac-2022-0020

Article Open Access

The Coptic Translation of Epiphanius of Salamis’s Ancoratus and the Origenist Controversy in Upper Egypt

Christian H. Bull

Published/Copyright: October 29, 2022

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From the journal Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum / Journal of Ancient Christianity Volume 26 Issue 2

Abstract

Two manuscripts from around the 9th and the 10th century bear witness to a Coptic translation of the Ancoratus, originally written in Greek by Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis, in 374. Like his more famous sequel to this work, the Panarion, the treatise defends Nicene orthodoxy from perceived heretics, mainly Pneumatomachoi, Arians, Manichaeans, and Origenists. The latter are said to be present in Upper Egypt, where they deny the resurrection of this material body in favor of a spiritual body. The present article argues that the Coptic translation likely took place shortly after the composition of the Greek original, indeed the work was in part commissioned to be used against Origenist monastics in Upper Egypt, thus furnishing a valuable testimony to monastic diversity in the Thebaïd and the lead-up to the Origenist Controversy.

Keywords: Epiphanius of Salamis; Origenist Controversy; Coptic Translation; Heresiology; Egyptian Monasticism

In the last quarter of the 4th century of our era, the obdurate bishop Epiphanius of Salamis, on Cyprus, launched a series of attacks on other Christians who were purportedly influenced by the writings of Origen of Alexandria, the famous 3d-century theologian.^[1] The most well-known of these attacks, written in 377, is the three-volume Panarion, the “Medicine-Chest” containing remedies against eighty contemporary and historical (and fictional) heresies, of which he saw Origenism as one of the most insidious.^[2] A few years earlier he had written a more modest work, the Ancoratus or “Anchored One,”^[3] attacking especially the tenets of the Arians, who denied the full divinity of Christ; the Macedonians or Pneumatomachoi (“Fighters against the spirit”), who denied the divinity of the spirit; the Manichaeans, who believed that Christ did not have a material body; and finally certain Origenist ascetics of Upper Egypt, who claimed that the resurrection would not take place “in this flesh,” but in some other kind of spiritual flesh. This work was translated into Coptic, a fact that may shed some light on theological tensions within Egyptian monasticism, which contributed to the eruption of the first Origenist controversy in 399. In fact, translations played an important and understudied role in the first Origenist controversy, concerning the theological legacy of Origen of Alexandria in the late 4th and early 5th century.^[4] Two of the main belligerents, Rufinus of Aquileia and Jerome, were both avid translators of Greek texts into Latin, to the degree that the latter was later canonized as the patron saint of translators, having translated several books of the Bible into Latin. Jerome had earlier been an admirer of Origen, especially of his textual edition of the Old Testament, the Hexapla, which juxtaposed the Hebrew text with one transliteration and four different translations of the text into Greek. Later on, however, he would join Epiphanius and others in seeing the controversial Alexandrian as a heretic.

An episode in the 390s aptly demonstrates the role of translations in the build-up to the Origenist controversy, and will shed some light also on the Coptic translation of the Ancoratus, to which we will return. Epiphanius, who was a native of Palestine, had returned to his home country as an old man, “the most famous man on the whole earth under the sun,” as Sozomen states, due to his achievements in monastic philosophy and his virtuous way of life.^[5] Here he denounced John, the bishop of Jerusalem, as an Origenist, while John in his turn accused Epiphanius of Anthropomorphism.^[6] Epiphanius went on to ordain Jerome’s brother as priest, in contravention of John’s authority as bishop, and he tore down a costly tapestry in a church, because he found it to be idolatrous. When John reacted against these actions, Epiphanius wrote a letter in response, defending his actions and further denouncing John. According to Jerome, who at this time resided in the monastery of Paula in Bethlehem, the letter of Epiphanius to John was on everybody’s lips that year: “All of Palestine eagerly snatched away copies of it, either because of the merit of the author or the refinement of the composition.”^[7] The letter is now only extant in Jerome’s translation, made the same year,^[8] but from what we know from Epiphanius’s other surviving Greek treatises, it is safe to say that his fame must have played a larger part of the letter’s success than his literary style. Obviously, people enjoyed a well-publicized quarrel between famous and influential people as much in Late Antiquity as today. In Jerome’s monastery there was also much interest in the letter, yet not everyone had direct access to it. A certain Eusebius of Cremona was unable to read Greek, and so asked Jerome if he could translate the letter for him, so that he would not miss out on what everyone was talking about. Strikingly, he also asked Jerome to simplify the argument, in effect dumbing the letter down so that he could understand it. Jerome gives us a precious brief glance at a translator in practice: “I did as he wanted, and having sent for an amanuensis I immediately started dictating with great haste, making brief notes on the margins of the pages about the inner meaning that each chapter contained.”^[9] As most elite authors, Jerome could not be bothered to write himself, but instead dictated to an amanuensis. Epiphanius too dictated the Ancoratus to a certain Anatolius.^[10] This was also a usual practice for copying texts: one person would read aloud the text to be copied, and a scribe would write it down.^[11] The copy would thereupon be collated against the exemplar once again, to check for mistakes. This must be what Jerome was doing when he was annotating chapter headings in the margins, checking the writing of his secretary to correct any scribal errors. The marginal notes containing the inner (intrinsecus) meaning of each chapter must have been his way to clarify the essential points of Epiphanius, who is often quite obscure.

If there is an apologetic tone in Jerome’s description of his translation, it is because he was in fact accused of having misrepresented the original Greek of Epiphanius. Jerome had become bitter enemies with his former friend Rufinus of Aquileia, and it is clear from his defense that he was accused of being overly liberal in his translation. Indeed, Jerome admits that the goal of his translation was to capture the spirit of Epiphanius’s letter, not to translate word for word. Jerome’s emphasis that his work was done in haste is a common strategy for him to show how hardworking he is, and perhaps to deflect criticism.^[12] Even the conceit of having translated the letter for the private use of a brother at the monastery might be dissimulation, since Jerome in his Apology against Rufinus mentions a letter of Epiphanius that he had translated at the request of the author himself, perhaps our letter.^[13] If Epiphanius asked for his letter to be translated into Latin, it is also possible that he asked for the Ancoratus, which in part deals with Egyptian affairs, to be translated into Coptic, as we shall see it was, with some probability shortly after it had been composed. As for the criticism against Jerome as a translator, we find it in Rufinus’s preface to his Latin translation of Origen’ On first principles. Rufinus had been accused of cleaning up Origen’s work for it to be in line with Nicene orthodoxy, which he admits to, since he claims that the original has been corrupted by heretics and needs emendation. He furthermore states that he is merely following the example of Jerome, who so elegantly translated homilies and commentaries of Origen before he abandoned his task as translator to become an author instead.^[14] The sarcastic reference to Jerome’s eloquence likely implies a lack of fidelity to the original. Clearly, translations and polemics against translations played a significant part in the theological and personal controversies surrounding the legacy of Origen.^[15]

1 The Composition of the Ancoratus and its Relation to Egypt

In 374, roughly twenty years before Epiphanius wrote his letter to John, he had composed the treatise defending Nicene orthodoxy called the Ancoratus. Epiphanius was prompted to write the work at the request of some presbyters and monks from Syedra in Pamphilia who were especially worried about the heresy of the Pneumatomachoi. In their letters soliciting his aid, which are appended in front of the treatise itself, the presbyters invoke the memory of Athanasius of Alexandria, who had died only the year before. His writings, they say, had counteracted doctrinal errors earlier, but since there are some who still persist in heterodoxy they now come to Epiphanius for authoritative statements on the correct faith.^[16] The implication is clearly that Epiphanius has inherited the mantle of Athanasius as the defender of Nicene Trinitarianism. In his prefatory response to the letters, Epiphanius, with great protestations of humility common for the time, agrees to write regarding not only the Spirit, but also the Father and Son, as well as the resurrection of the dead and the incarnation of Christ.^[17] Importantly for our concern, he also refers to “our son Hypatius too who came to me from the country of the Egyptians because of the same thing.”^[18] Since he calls Hypatius his son, it is clear that he is of inferior rank; Epiphanius calls the Pamphylian presbyters brothers, while he calls the monks sons.^[19] Since a part of the Ancoratus is devoted to problems concerning heterodox ascetics in Upper Egypt, as we shall see, it is likely that Hypatius was a monk from this area, sent to report the affair to Epiphanius.^[20] That Epiphanius was also venerated in Egypt as a staunch Athanasian is clear from a letter written just a few years after the composition of the Ancoratus, sent by Egyptian bishops exiled to Diocaesarea under Valens to the monks of Nitria, against Apollinaris who they say “accused the venerable archbishop of Cyprus, Epiphanius, who is orthodox and was always in communion with our most blessed papa Athanasius.”^[21]

Athanasius had spent much of his career trying to put the monasteries of Egypt firmly under the control of the patriarchate of Alexandria,^[22] yet with his death there had been turbulence. Peter II was his elected successor, but was swiftly deposed and replaced by the Homoean Lucius, with the connivance of Emperor Valens and the bishop of Antioch, Euzoïus.^[23] Peter fled to Rome, where he stayed until Valens left Antioch in April 378, mere months before he died in the disastrous battle of Adrianople. This means that at the time when Hypatius came to Epiphanius, the head of the Egyptian church was a Homoean, who according to the church historians violently persecuted Nicene church- and monastic leaders. Meanwhile the Nicene bishop Peter wrote a letter to other Egyptian bishops and priests in exile, in which he says the disciple of Apollinaris, Timothy of Beirut, attempted to have him wrongfully anathematize Epiphanius, whom he considered to be one of “the strongest champions of truth.”^[24] This is the historical backdrop to Hypatius’s visit to Salamis, though one would not know it from reading the Ancoratus, where there is no reference to the hostile bishop of Alexandria or the exiled Peter. No doubt Epiphanius purposefully avoided mentioning the politically sensitive issue of the Homoean bishop, who had the Emperor’s support. Although the “Arian” heresy is criticized throughout, there is no mention of the Emperors having any affiliation with it. Perhaps encouraged by the success of the Ancoratus, or the increasing unpopularity of Lucius, Epiphanius did denounce Lucius and the violent persecutions enacted by him and his fellow “Ariomaniacs” in the Panarion.^[25] Jerome makes a point of the fact that Epiphanius was not persecuted by Valens while he was bishop of Cyprus, claiming that the Emperor left him alone since he feared that persecuting such a venerated figure would lead to his own disgrace.^[26] In fact, Epiphanius in the Panarion refers to Valens as “the pious and most devout Emperor, beloved by God,”^[27] which hardly suggests he took a heroic stand, though he admits that wicked Arians had corrupted the Emperor’s ear and seduced him to undertake the current persecutions.

Epiphanius indicates that he is writing for an Egyptian audience in the Ancoratus when he turns from dealing with the trinity, in the first part of the treatise, to the resurrection of the flesh. This resurrection is denied, he says, “by certain ascetics in Egypt, both of the Thebaïd and other regions elsewhere, who think the same as the Hieracites and say that the resurrection of our flesh is not of this flesh, but another one instead of it.”^[28] This statement launches a lengthy section where Epiphanius tries to prove that it is in fact this earthly flesh that will be resurrected, not another spiritual one. Presumably these ascetics worried the Egyptian monks represented by Hypatius, and unlike bishop Lucius they could be attacked without fear of political reprisals. The Hieracites were followers of Hieracas of Leontopolis, an ascetic foe of Athanasius dead by the time the Ancoratus was written.^[29] The legendary Life of Epiphanius narrates a dramatic encounter between Epiphanius and Hieracas when the former was a monk in Egypt in his youth, wherein the two debate the resurrection of the flesh and Hieracas finally repents of his wicked teachings.^[30] Though this is surely a fanciful tale, it is likely based on the chapter on the Hieracites in Panarion 67,^[31] in which the grudging approval of Hieracas’s ascetic discipline may imply that Epiphanius had first-hand knowledge of the teacher. If so, he must have met him as a young man in Egypt, perhaps in the 330s.^[32] In the Panarion, Epiphanius expressly places Hieracas in the tradition of Origen and claims that he wrote treatises on scriptural subjects and psalms in both Greek and Coptic^[33]—making him possibly the earliest named Coptic author^[34]—and that he gained many ascetic adherents.^[35] By 374, his influence and possibly his texts in Coptic and Greek had reached the Thebaïd, if we are to believe Epiphanius who accused ascetics there of being influenced by this foe of Athanasius.^[36] A few years later, when Epiphanius wrote the Panarion, Egyptian Origenism was still on his mind:

the heresy that sprung from him [Origen] was at first in the country of the Egyptians, but is now present among even the most prominent, who think they have taken upon themselves the monastic way of life, among those who withdraw by natural inclination into the desert and have chosen poverty.^[37]

That they only “think they” or “seem to” (δοκοῦσι) have undertaken the monastic life, shows that Epiphanius thinks they are pseudo-monks, but there is no reason to assume that they did not see themselves as inheritors of the monasticism of Antony or Pachomius, or that they constituted a sect instead of being part of regular churches or monasteries, even if they had ideas that did not square with orthodoxy as Epiphanius conceived of it.

2 The Coptic Translation of the Ancoratus

With these considerations of the Egyptian situation in mind, we can now turn to the Coptic translation of the Ancoratus (CPC [= Clavis Patrum Copticorum] 0140), which will occupy the remainder of this article.^[38] The Coptic text exists in two fragmentary exemplars today. The first and by far the most extensive is a circa 10th century parchment codex deriving from the White Monastery of Shenoute, near Sohag in Upper Egypt. The codex is part of the subgroup that was produced by the Touton scriptorium in the Fayum,^[39] and it originally contained the full Ancoratus followed by Epiphanius’s treatise On the 12 Stones on the breastplate of the Israelite high priest.^[40] The codex was produced by two scribes, of whom one copied nearly all of the Ancoratus, while the second copied the end of the Ancoratus and all of On the 12 Stones (CPC [= Clavis Patrum Copticorum] 0142).^[41] Like the rest of the once extensive library of the White Monastery, our codex was divided and sold to several different collections, so that the part of the manuscript containing the Ancoratus is now located in Paris (12 folia), London (2), Naples (2), Oxford (1), Cambridge (1), St. Petersburg (1), New York (1), and Cairo (1).^[42]

The second exemplar we have is far more fragmentary. It was written on papyrus, the scraps of which are today kept in Vienna.^[43] Very little work has been done on this manuscript, and I have not myself yet seen it. It has been dated on paleographical grounds to the 9th century, though this appears somewhat late for a papyrus codex, seeing that the parchment codex had largely—but not completely—replaced papyrus by the 6th century.^[44]

It should be mentioned that we also have an Arabic version based on the Coptic, and an Ethiopic based on the Arabic.^[45] If these versions correspond closely to the Coptic they could tell us more about the Coptic translation, even the parts for which we do not have any Coptic manuscript evidence.

Preliminary research by Alberto Camplani indicates that both our Coptic copies derive from the same original translation from Greek,^[46] which was written in standard Sahidic. This means that the archetype in principle may have been translated any time between the composition of the Greek original, in 374, and the 9th century. This complicates our ability to say anything about the context of our translation. However, there are multiple factors that make an early translation likely. First, there is the fact that after the council of Chalcedon in 451, the Coptic Non-Chalcedonian church gradually lost access to the Greek patrological tradition, and Tito Orlandi has observed that “the texts found in the later manuscripts generally follow the ‘normal’ patristic production patterns. Thus, their translation was probably executed as part of this ‘normal’ production in the fourth and fifth centuries.”^[47] The Copts then instead started composing their own works with pseudepigraphic attributions to earlier fathers of the church.^[48] Thus, for example, there is a rich literature by Pseudo-John Chrysostom.^[49] It is in other words less likely that the Ancoratus would have been translated after the 5th century, especially since much of it is devoted to distinguishing the human and divine natures of Christ, parts of which might have been problematic for Miaphysite Copts after Chalcedon.^[50]

A possible terminus ante quem for the Coptic translation might be furnished by the Coptic Homily on the Virgin Mary (CPC [= Clavis Patrum Copticorum] 0119) by Pseudo-Cyril of Jerusalem, composed in the first half of the 6th century,^[51] in which Cyril debates the heretic monk Annarikos, who follows the Gospel of the Hebrews in claiming that Mary was a divine power called Micha sent down to earth: “How many heresies came into being, which (ms G: Apa; ms C: the blessed) Epiphanius spoke about in his Ancoratus (ms G: ⲡⲉϥⲉⲩⲁⲅⲅⲉⲣⲟⲇⲟⲥ / ms C: ⲡⲉϥⲁⲛⲕⲉⲣⲁⲧⲟⲥ / ms F: ⲡⲉϥⲉⲁⲛⲅⲉⲣⲁⲧⲟⲥ), with a different error for each one of them, yet yours is worse than all of them.”^[52] The reference to the Ancoratus clinches Cyril’s rebuttal of Annarikos, who duly repents of his errors, a scene demonstrating that by the time the homily was composed, the Ancoratus was established as a useful instrument against heresies in Upper Egypt. Epiphanius himself had pseudepigraphic homilies written in his name, such as a homily On the Virgin Mary, close in time to the homily of Pseudo-Cyril, which also combats the idea that the virgin Mary was a heavenly power, an idea attributed to schismatics.^[53] Both homilies may take their inspiration from the Ancoratus chapter 51, in which Epiphanius refutes an anonymous heretic who seems to be of the opinion that the Virgin is uncreated, and thus a heavenly power like her son, since created beings cannot be worshipped.

The homilies demonstrate that the Ancoratus and Epiphanius were known in Coptophone literature as effective against heresies in the first half of the 6th century, but there are additional considerations which would make a very early translation likely. Shenoute of Atripe in his diatribe against Origenists, I am Amazed, refers to the bishop of Salamis simply as “the man of God”: “Truly the man of God scolded the stupidity of those who despise the body, saying: ‘The shadow of Peter healed multitudes.’ ”^[54] Again Epiphanius is invoked against those who downplay the role of the body in the divine economy. As Janet Timbie has shown, this is a quote from the Panarion of Epiphanius in Coptic,^[55] which indicates that this text was present in the White Monastery library in his time, in Coptic if Shenoute did not ad hoc translate the sentence. If the Panarion was present, it is likely that the Ancoratus was too, and indeed Dimitrij Bumazhnov argues that Shenoute’s Christological catechesis is influenced by a passage on the Eucharist in the Ancoratus.^[56] Shenoute headed the White Monastery for a record-breaking eighty years between 385 and 465, thus taking over only ten years after the composition of the Ancoratus. He might thus have read a very early ancestor of our 10th century White Monastery codex.^[57]

3 Monastic Heterodoxy and Coptic Translations in Upper Egypt (4th–5th century)

There are historical circumstances to support the hypothesis that Shenoute knew the Coptic translation of the Ancoratus. As we have seen, the Ancoratus was partly elicited by a group of Egyptians, likely monks, who had grave concerns over certain ascetics in the Thebaïd with heterodox opinions about the resurrection. This in itself makes it likely that the text would have made its way to Upper Egypt soon after its composition. Copies of the Greek original would likely have been made on Cyprus, and sent at least to the presbyters and monks in Pamphylia and Egypt. Perhaps Hypatius, who had been sent from the Egyptians, brought the treatise back himself, where his brothers in Upper Egypt must have been eager to put it to use against the ascetic heretics.

The Pachomian federation would be likely recipients of the treatise, and much of the other literature preserved in the White Monastery has Pachomian roots, such as the Pachomian letters, the lives of Pachomius and his successors, and the Rules. Shenoute clearly saw Pachomius as a predecessor of his own Rules.^[58] In this literature we learn that the federation included both Greeks with no Coptic and Copts with little Greek, and monastic activities included teaching brothers the requisite language skills, and copying and translating manuscripts, as well as simultaneous translating of catechesis.^[59] So, our treatise could have been translated in a Pachomian monastery, though of course there are other options, like the White Monastery itself.

Yet in 374, the Pachomian federation would have been the dominant monastic institution in the Thebaïd, the area in which the heterodox ascetics attacked by Epiphanius dwelled. The head of the federation at this time was Horsiesius,^[60] and even the hagiographic tradition recognizes that there were major disciplinary problems in several Pachomian monasteries after the death of Pachomius around 347, meaning that control of reading materials might have been lax.^[61] So, Pachomian monks could have been among the heterodox ascetics targeted by Epiphanius.^[62] One could imagine in the Pachomian monasteries a tension between Origenist or mystically oriented monks and the simpler monks, similar to the rift that triggered the Origenist controversy among the monks of Nitria in Lower Egypt. If so, the Ancoratus would have been of use to the anti-Origenist monks against their brethren. A later letter of Cyril of Alexandria to the monks of Phua specifically warns them about following Origen in denying the resurrection of this flesh.^[63] The name Phua, otherwise unknown, is most likely a corruption of the Pachomian Pbow.^[64] In fact, confirmation that the teaching against the resurrection of the flesh existed at Pachomian monasteries is found in the Letter of Ammon 26, where Theodore confronts the brother Patchelpius that he had been secretly teaching a younger brother that there is no resurrection of the flesh.^[65] According to Theodore an angel had informed against Patchelpius, perhaps more likely an informant who overheard the heterodox teaching of his brother, and though Patchelpius duly repents, the story indicates doctrinal disputes within the federation in the years 352–355, around twenty years before the Ancoratus was authored. This is, of course, provided Ammon can be taken at face value: the letter is likely written to the archbishop Theophilus, and the Patchelpius-story might indicate a terminus post quem after Theophilus turned against Origenism in 399. So, the intervening fifty years or so, theological hindsight, and Ammon’s time in the monastery at Nitria might have contaminated his memory of the events.^[66] Yet the basic story sounds credible, apart from the angelic informant.

The presence in the area around Pbow and Sheneset of the teaching against the resurrection of this earthly flesh is also attested by the Nag Hammadi codices, containing texts beyond the pale of Nicene orthodoxy and buried in the Pachomian heartland, which were owned and read by monks who with some likelihood were Pachomians.^[67] These monks would then have been able to read for example A Treatise on the Resurrection, which contains a teaching similar to that criticized by Epiphanius, namely that it is not this earthly flesh that is resurrected, but a new, spiritual flesh is received: “If you were not in flesh, you received flesh when you came into the world. Why will you not receive the flesh when you ascend to the aeon?”^[68] Combined with the notion that the spiritual resurrection “swallows up”^[69] that of the soul and of the flesh, it seems that the text agrees with the Hieracite-inspired ascetics of the Thebaïd that this flesh is substituted with another one in the resurrection. If the Pachomian provenance of the Nag Hammadi Codices is accepted, this would further strengthen the idea that Pachomians were amongst the ascetic adversaries Epiphanius had in mind, though they were probably not the only ones. The monastic diversity in Upper Egypt included Origen-influenced monks like John of Lycopolis, who at least later was in touch with Nitrian Origenists like Evagrius Ponticus, though we do not know anything about his thoughts on the resurrection of the flesh.^[70]

Theophilus of Alexandria, who recruited Epiphanius in his vendetta against John Chrysostom, like his nephew and successor Cyril condemned Origen and apocryphal texts in his sixteenth Festal letter of 401. It was translated into Coptic, with some likelihood by Shenoute himself, who quoted it nearly in its entirety in a Catechesis.^[71] Both Cyril and Shenoute also attack Origenist monks elsewhere, and in particular the Origenist view of resurrection.^[72] Likewise, the Life of Pachomius informs us that Athanasius’s famous Easter letter of 367, which defined the canon and condemned the reading of apocrypha, was received by the Pachomians, and that Apa Theodore who was in charge of the federation at that time had it translated into Coptic and established as law.^[73] Portions of a Coptic translation has survived, though this is not necessarily the same translation.^[74] Since Theodore died in 368 the translation must have taken place shortly after the reception of the letter, only a few years before the composition of the Ancoratus, and this clearly indicates that the Pachomians considered the translation of theological texts into Coptic as an important way to enforce Nicene orthodoxy. This is yet again confirmed by Cyril’s successor Dioscorus, who in the 440s wrote a letter targeting a heretical priest and probably monk called Elijah, allegedly a propagator of the texts and doctrines of Origen, which Dioscorus claims are widespread in a monastery and a former temple of Shmin (Panopolis).^[75] The letter was addressed to three bishops of Upper Egypt, but it was contained within a cover letter to Shenoute, whom he asked to translate it: “May your reverence make haste that this entire memorandum is translated into the language of the Egyptians, so that it will be read in this way and that no one will be ignorant of the authority of what is written in it.”^[76] For all we know, a similar cover letter could have accompanied the copy of the Ancoratus sent back with Hypatius to the Egyptians.

So, the Pachomians were beset with a hostile Homoean bishop of Alexandria and heterodox ascetics in their immediate vicinity, perhaps in their very midst. If they or other Upper Egyptian monks were the ones who sent Hypatius to Cyprus to ask Epiphanius for written guidance, they would certainly also have translated the resulting treatise once it was returned to them, so that all the brothers in Upper Egypt would have access to it. The 5th-century church historian Sozomen states that Epiphanius became famous in Egypt and Palestine because of his monastic philosophy, and describes him as the most famous man under heaven.^[77] Jerome himself, some years before translating Epiphanius’s letter, included the bishop in his catalogue On illustrious men^[78] and claimed that his writings were avidly read by the educated for their subject matter, and by regular people for their style. It has also been argued that passages from the Ancoratus and the Panarion have directly influenced Egyptian monasticism at least from the time of the First Origenist Controversy, including the early Coptic writings of Paul of Tamma, Shenoute and the Life of Aphu of Pemje.^[79] These considerations militate in favor that the Ancoratus was translated into Coptic soon after its composition, once it reached Upper Egypt, just as the Festal letters of the Alexandrian patriarchs were.

This must admittedly remain hypothetical. Even though it is likely that the Ancoratus was translated into Coptic soon after its composition, another possible context is the so-called first Origenist controversy, around the turn of the 5th century, which played out as a power-struggle between Theophilus of Alexandria and John Chrysostom. Epiphanius was enlisted on the side of Theophilus, and would die from advanced age before the conflict was resolved. It is entirely possible that the treatise was translated at the prompting of Theophilus, who initiated a crack-down on monks suspected of Origenist sympathies and reading apocrypha. Theophilus himself had apparently flip-flopped after he was confronted by monks who marched on Alexandria. These monks were known as Anthropomorphites, and were considered to be more literal in their reading of the Bible, thinking of God as having human form, unlike the more Platonist allegorical readings in the tradition after Origen.^[80]

4 The Quality of the Coptic Translation of the Ancoratus

The likely historical context of the translation must be taken into consideration: the monastic community in which the treatise was likely translated would have been part of a bitter struggle with fellow Christians, perhaps even with some of its own members, and this struggle could potentially lead to imprisonment, exile, or even death for the losing part. The Homoean Lucius actively persecuted Athanasian priests and monks between 374 and 378, and Origenist monks were exiled from Egypt at the turn of the century. The urgency for the translation was thus high, and apparently this led to haste, as we also saw was the case when Jerome translated Epiphanius’ letter. Our translator likely did not work alone, but like Jerome probably dictated his translation to a scribe. This was common practice, and furthermore there are errors in the Coptic text that can be best explained under the hypothesis of dictation, for example a number of misspelled proper names. The translation is also very direct, often keeping a Greek sentence syntax that does not work in Coptic, like the use of ⲡⲉϫⲁϥ within quotations in place of the Greek φησί(ν).

The mistakes also indicate something else, namely that our translator did not check the copy of his scribe, which again leads one to believe that the translation was produced in haste. Some mistakes surely also slipped into our text in subsequent copying, so it is not always possible to say if a mistake is due to the translator or a later copyist. There is however one highly interesting fact, which leads us to believe that many of the discrepancies with the Greek are due to the translator, and which is furthermore of some importance for our understanding of the Greek textus receptus: To a high degree, our most significant discrepancies occur in places where the Greek is corrupt, which indicates that the Greek exemplar in front of our Coptic translator was already corrupt. We shall consider some examples of this tendency presently. It is striking how few of Karl Holl’s editorial emendations of the Greek are supported by the Coptic, a tendency I can only allude to now and will demonstrate in my forthcoming edition. Of course, if the Greek Vorlage was already faulty, that would complicate our argument that the Coptic translation occurred soon after the time of the original composition. However, the Greek text might have been faulty from the very beginning. Although this would square poorly with Jerome’s assessment that Epiphanius was famous for his good language, we must remember, first, that it was in Jerome’s best interest to speak well of his close ally, and second, that it was allegedly the uneducated people who enjoyed Epiphanius’s language, whereas learned men appreciated the theological arguments. Photius, in the 9th century, took a harsher view on Epiphanius as an author than Jerome: “His style is poor, and of such a level as is proper of one who is unfamiliar with Attic education.”^[81] Frank Williams points out that the Panarion was dictated in haste and for a large part ad libbed, which seems also to be the case with the Ancoratus: “All this evidences oral composition and probably lack of time for revision—the busy bishop would have had little time for that.”^[82]

These considerations suggest that not all the errors in the Greek of Epiphanius’s texts—and the errors are plentiful—are due to corruptions in the manuscript tradition, but were there from the beginning, predictably worsened by the misguided emendations of later copyists. The complex stemma of the Greek text laid forth by Holl, in the early 20th century, must be revisited in light of the Coptic text.^[83] This task surpasses the present contribution, though it should at least be pointed out that while our Coptic text is bound together with On the 12 Stones, it is in the Greek manuscript tradition transmitted in a collected edition of Epiphanius together with the Panarion, On Measures and Weights, and the pseudo-Epiphanian Anakephalaiosis, which is a summary of the Panarion. According to Holl, the Gesamtausgabe goes back to the time of Epiphanius or shortly thereafter, at which time the initial text was the Ancoratus, followed by the Panarion and then On Measures and Weights.^[84] This order was changed by the 9th century, when our earliest manuscripts as well as Photius testify to a different order, starting with the Panarion. If the earliest Gesamtausgabe really goes back to the time of Epiphanius, then it is surely important that our Coptic translation is instead bound together with On the 12 Stones, which means that the Greek exemplar in the hands of our translator likely predates the Gesamtausgabe, such as would be the case if the text was sent to Egypt shortly after its composition.

5 Discrepancies between the Greek Original and the Coptic Translation

It will be instructive to look at translation-mistakes for clues to the identity of the translator, his understanding of Greek, and his cultural and theological knowledge.^[85] I will focus here on a section of the Ancoratus dealing with examples from pagan mythology, since it clearly showcases some of the misunderstandings due to the translator’s lack of familiarity with the source material, and has already been edited by Johannes Leipoldt.^[86] Some examples are chosen more to showcase the problems with the Greek textus receptus, and how the Coptic translation can illuminate some of these passages.

5.1 From Gladiators and the Satyr-Goat, to Monks who Fight the Dragon

A passage near the end of the work indicates that the translator was a monk. After the passage dealing with the reality of resurrection of this flesh,^[87] Epiphanius goes on to exhort the orthodox churches to abhor idols,^[88] which are in reality human passions given form: adulterers thought up Aphrodite, bloodthirsty men thought up Ares, and promiscuous men thought up Apollo and Zeus, for example. Egyptians are singled out negatively, since they even worship animals.^[89] Epiphanius rehearses the fact that there are several versions of the pagan gods, for example one Zeus is born on Crete as the son of Kronos, while another is called Latiarius, and another one Tragōdos (“the tragedy-singer”):

ὁ δ’ ἄλλος Λατιάριος λεγόμενος, ἐξ οὗπερ οἱ μονομάχοι γεγόνασιν, ἄλλος δὲ ὁ τραγῳδός, ὁ καὶ τὴν χεῖρα αὐτοῦ καύσας. τάχα δὲ θεὸς ὢν ἐπελάθετο ὅτι δάκνει τὸ πῦρ καὶ οὐκ εἶχε τὴν πρόγνωσιν τοῦ λέγοντος τράγῳ τῷ σατύρῳ, εὑρόντι πρότερον τὸ πῦρ καὶ προσελθόντι φιλῆσαι “μὴ ἅψῃ, τράγε ἁψάμενος γὰρ σοῦ ἐμπρήσεις τὰ γένεια.”

Another one is called Latiarios, from whom the gladiators have come into being, and another one Tragōdos, who burned his hand. Perhaps even though he is a god he forgot that fire stings, and he did not have the foreknowledge of the one who said to the satyr-goat, who had earlier discovered the fire and approached it to kiss it: “Do not touch, goat! For if you touch you will set your beard on fire.”^[90]

Ⲡⲕⲉⲟⲩⲁ ⲇⲉ ⲗⲁⲇⲓ̈ⲁⲣⲓ̈ⲟⲥ ⲡⲉ ⲡⲉϥⲣⲁⲛ· ⲡⲁⲓ̈ ⲛⲧⲁⲙⲙⲟⲛⲟⲭⲟⲥ ⲧ̄ⲥⲁⲃⲟ ⲉⲙⲓ̈ϣⲉ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ϩⲓ̈ ⲧⲟⲟⲧϥ⳾··~

Ⲡⲕⲉⲟⲩⲁ̄ ⲇⲉ ⲟⲛ ϫⲉ ⲧⲣⲁⲕⲱⲛⲧⲟⲥ ⲡⲉⲛⲧⲁϥⲣⲉⲕϩ̄ ⲧⲉϥϭⲓ̈ϫ ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲕⲱϩⲧ̄· ⲉϣϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲡⲉ· ⲉⲓ̈ⲉ ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲟⲩ ⲁϥⲣ̄ ⲡⲱⲃϣ̄· ϫⲉ ϣⲁⲣⲉⲡ̄ⲕⲱϩⲧ̄ ⲣⲱⲕϩ̄· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲙⲛⲧⲁϥ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ⲛⲧⲉⲡⲣⲟⲅⲛⲱⲥⲓ̈ⲥ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲇⲣⲁⲕⲱⲛⲧⲟⲥ⳾·~

Ⲥⲁⲧⲩⲣⲟⲥ ⲡⲁⲓ̈ ⲛⲧⲁϥϭⲙ̄ ⲡ̄ⲕⲱϩⲧ̄ ⲛϣⲟⲣⲡ̄ ⲉϥϫⲱ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟⲥ· ϫⲉ ⲙⲡⲣ̄ϫⲱϩ ⲱ ⲡϭⲓⲉ· ⲉⲕϣⲁⲛϫⲱϩ ⲅⲁⲣ ⲕⲛⲁⲣ̄ ϩⲏⲃⲉ ⲛⲧⲉⲕⲙⲟⲣⲧ⳾

Another one has the name Ladiarios, from whom the monks learn how to fight.

Another one also (is called) Trakōntos, he who burned his hand in the fire. If he is a god, then why did he forget that fire burns, and he does not have the foreknowledge of the Drakōntos?

As for Satyros, he is the one who discovered the fire first, saying: “Do not touch, goat! For if you touch you will be sorry for your beard.”^[91]

Having little to no knowledge about Jupiter Latiarius and the fact that he is celebrated with gladiatorial combat (ἐξ οὗπερ οἱ μονομάχοι γεγόνασιν),^[92] our Copt instead writes that “Ladiarios” is the one “from whom the monks learn how to fight.”^[93] The Copt either interpolates or misunderstands, and yet his translation yields perfect sense in a monastic milieu familiar with such texts as the Life of Antony and the Life of Pachomius, where fighting demons is the quintessential task of the monk.^[94] Our ⲙⲟⲛⲟⲭⲟⲥ is a widely attested variant of ⲙⲟⲛⲁⲭⲟⲥ.^[95]

Epiphanius immediately goes on to say that another Zeus is called “the goat-singer” or “tragedian” (ὁ τραγῳδός),^[96] who burnt his hand,^[97] a myth unknown to us that probably has to do with Zeus burning his hand on his thunderbolt. The title “tragedian” is rendered in Coptic as ⲧⲣⲁⲕⲱⲛⲧⲟⲥ,^[98] which could be explained as a listening mistake. Yet the Copt was possibly still in a demonological frame of mind, and was thinking of a demonic snake or dragon (ⲇⲣⲁⲕⲱⲛ), for later in the paragraph the error recurs: Epiphanius says sarcastically that perhaps this Zeus “did not have the foreknowledge of the one who said to the satyr-goat” (οὐκ εἶχε τὴν πρόγνωσιν τοῦ λέγοντος τράγῳ τῷ σατύρῳ)^[99] that he should keep his beard out of the fire. The allusion is to a passage of Aeschylus’s lost Prometheus the Fire-bearer, which we only know through the testimony of Plutarch: When the Satyr first sees fire, he wants to embrace it but is warned by Prometheus that it will burn his beard.^[100] The foreknowledge thus belongs to Prometheus, appropriately enough, who warns the satyr-goat. Instead the Coptic translates “he does not have the foreknowledge of the Drakōntos (the dragon?). Satyros is the one who first discovered fire.”^[101] The Copt understandably misses the allusion to Prometheus and paradoxically says that Zeus Trakontos does not have the foreknowledge of “the Drakōntos” (τράγῳ > ⲡⲉⲇⲣⲁⲕⲱⲛⲧⲟⲥ) and that it was one Satyros, not Prometheus, who spoke to the goat. Again, this is at least the work of someone unfamiliar with Aeschylus, who seems to have interpreted “goat” as “dragon,” though he clearly knew the Greek word, for he translates it correctly only a few lines down (τράγε > ⲡϭⲓⲉ).^[102]

5.2 Kanōbos, Isis, and the Wax Placed in Leaking Jars

Epiphanius then talks about deified humans and mentions an example from Egypt, in which the Egyptian name of the city Canopus, by the westernmost Canopic mouth of the Nile, was explained with a myth about Menelaos burying his pilot there, on a landfall on his way home from Troy:

Κάνωβός τε ὁ Μενελάου κυβερνήτης καὶ ἡ τούτου γυνὴ Ἐυμενουθὶς ἐν Ἀλεξανδρείᾳ τεθαμμένοι τιμῶνται πρὸς τῇ ὄχθῃ τῆς θαλάσσης, ἀπὸ δεκαδύο σημείων διεστῶτες.

And Kanōbos, the pilot of Menelaos, and his wife Eumenouthis, having been buried in Alexandria, at a twelve-mile distance, are honored near the shore of the sea.^[103]

ⲕⲁⲛⲱⲃⲟⲥ ⲇⲉ ⲡⲛⲉⲉⲃ ⲛⲛⲗⲁⲟⲥ· ⲡⲉⲧⲣ ϩⲙ̄ⲙⲉ ⲙⲛ ⲧⲉϥⲥϩⲓ̈ⲙⲉ· ⲛⲉⲩⲉⲓ̈ⲥⲉ: ⲁⲩⲧⲟⲙⲥⲟⲩ ϩⲛ ⲣⲁⲕⲟⲧⲉ· ⲥⲉⲧⲁⲓ̈ⲟ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟⲟⲩ ϩⲁⲧⲛ ⲑⲁⲗⲁⲥⲥⲁ· ⲉⲩⲟⲩⲏⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟⲟⲩ ⲁⲙⲛⲧ̄ⲥ̄ⲛⲟⲟⲩⲥ ⲙⲙⲓ̈ⲗⲓ̈ⲟⲛ ⲉⲁⲩⲕⲁ ϩⲛⲕⲉⲣⲟⲥ ⲛⲧⲁⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ·:~

Kanōbos, the pilot of the peoples, the steersman, and his wife, Neueise (?), have been buried in Rakote (Alexandria). They are honored close to the sea, being at a distance of twelve miles, where they have placed some of their wax (?).^[104]

First, our Copt obviously did not know the myth connecting Kanōbos to Menelaos, and does not even recognize the name of the latter, which he misunderstands to be λαός, “people” (ὁ Μενελάου κυβερνήτης > ὁ μέν λαοῦ κυβερνήτης > ⲡⲛⲉⲉⲃ ⲛⲛⲗⲁⲟⲥ). This may also be a listening mistake.

More obscure still is the reference to his wife. Holl reads the name of Kanōbos’s wife as Ἐνμενουθίς, whereas Dindorf and Leipoldt both read Εὐμενουθίς.^[105] No such names are otherwise attested, but the town Menouthis is right next to the town Canopus, practically its suburb, and both are located just twelve miles east of Alexandria.^[106] In reality it is Sarapis or Osiris whose sanctuary was in Canopus,^[107] and his wife is Isis, who had an oracular shrine in nearby Menouthis.^[108] Two relevant inscriptions are found on a base for a statue of “Isis who is in Menouthis” (ἐν Μενούθ[ι]) and on a statue base meant for “the wooden idol of the most holy god Sarapis, with Isis who is in Menouthis” ([ἐ]ν Μενούθι).^[109] Likewise, in the famous Isis aretalogy from the Oxyrhynchus Papyri, the local epithets of Isis in different Egyptian cities are listed, calling her “the one raising muses in Canopus, truth in Menouthis” (ἐν Μεν[ο]ύθι).^[110] It would thus be reasonable to emend the name Ἐυμενουθίς or Ἐνμενουθίς to “in Menouthis,” ἐν Μενούθι{ς}. However, the Coptic text has no reference to Menouthis at all, and instead writes ⲛⲉⲩⲉⲓ̈ⲥⲉ, which is hard to make immediate sense of. The word ⲉⲓ̈ⲥⲉ is clear enough: It is the Coptic name of the goddess Isis, whereas ⲛⲉⲩ- could be the third person plural possessive article, thus “their Isises,” similar to how the several versions of pagan gods were listed earlier. Another possibility is that -ⲉⲩ- reflects the Greek manuscript reading Εὐ-μενουθίς, providing a hitherto unknown epithet of Isis in Menouthis, though the initial Coptic ⲛ- then remains unexplained. Although this is not fully satisfactory, and the ⲛⲉⲩ- must remain somewhat cryptic, it seems our Copt knew that the goddess of Menouthis is Isis, a fact not spelled out by Epiphanius, and changed the text accordingly.

Finally, the Copt adds a circumstantial sentence that is hard to make head or tail of, stating that something is placed there, presumably at Canopus: ⲉⲁⲩⲕⲁ ϩⲛⲕⲉⲣⲟⲥ ⲛⲧⲁⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ. Leipoldt suggests that ⲕⲉⲣⲟⲥ comes from γέρας, “gift of honour,” which the translator did not understand and just kept untranslated, so that ⲅⲉⲣⲁⲥ was later corrupted into ⲕⲉⲣⲟⲥ by copyists.^[111] This would of course presuppose that the Greek exemplar in front of our translator included this sentence, subsequently lost in the Greek textus receptus. ⲕⲉⲣⲟⲥ is however much closer to κηρός, “wax,” since the interchange η > ε is unproblematic before a liquid consonant, and in fact the fluidity between epsilon and eta is typical in Egyptian.^[112] There is actually a good explanation why there should be an obscure reference to wax here. From the name Canopus we have our canopic jars which were used to contain the inner organs of mummified humans, smallish clay jars with lids formed as the heads of five gods known as the Sons of Horus. Rufinus of Aquileia gives us a fascinating tale about the use of similar jars in Canopus, which must have served as an etiology of the local statue of Sarapis: At one time there were Persian priests, here called Chaldeans instead of Magi, who travelled around and made their sacred fire fight against the divine statues of different regions. Since these were made of materials like wood and stone, the fire would always consume them and thus be victorious. When a priest of Canopus heard about this he made a plan: he took a water jar (ὑδρία) which had narrow holes used to purify dirty water, painted it, and used the head of an ancient statue of the steersman of Menelaus as a lid. He blocked the narrow holes with wax and filled the jar with water. When the Persians came and kindled their fire under the jar, the wax melted and water poured out and extinguished the fire, proving Canopus to be the superior god. When the archbishop Theophilus much later arrived, however, “no deceit concealed with wax” was of any avail, and the idols were thrown down.^[113] The combination of Canopus, Menelaus, and the wax, makes it likely that this myth underlies our offhand sentence.

The question of the sources used by Rufinus has been under debate: he studied under Didymus the Blind in Egypt for eight years during the 370s (at the same time as Epiphanius composed the Ancoratus), and could have conducted research there. Or perhaps his source was Sophronius, who according to Jerome “recently composed a notable volume, On the overthrow of Serapis.”^[114]

Of course, Epiphanius wrote before the episcopate of Theophilus and knew nothing of his future overthrow of the idols in Canopus, though he might have known the myth of the water jars. However, Epiphanius would hardly have included such an obscure allusion, and it is more likely that the sentence was interpolated by the Coptic translator. Before the events that led to the destruction of the Serapeum of Alexandria and the temple in Canopus, the latter was still in operation, and in the 370s it served as base for the pagan Neoplatonist Antoninus.^[115] If the Coptic sentence is an interpolation, it would fit better in the 370s—as an allusion to the waxen-deceit of the Egyptian priests at Canopus—than after the 390s, when one would have expected a reference to Theophilus throwing down the Canopic images in the interpolation.

5.3 The Intended Use of the Pagan Myths: Bad Examples or Sandals?

At the end of the passages concerning pagan mythology comes a passage that explains their purpose:

Ταῦτα οὖν πάντα ὅταν <ἐν> μέσῃ τῇ ἐκκλησίᾳ ἀκριβοῦτε, κακὸν ὑπόδειγμα θανασίμης ὁδοῦ τοὺς οὕτω προαχθέντας ὑπολύετε.

So, making inquiry about all these things when you are in the middle of the church, untie what has been brought forth like this as (?) a bad example of a deadly path.^[116]

ⲛⲁⲓ̈ ϭⲉ ⲧⲏⲣⲟⲩ ⲉⲧⲉⲧⲛϣⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲛϩⲟⲩ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ϩⲛ ⲧⲙⲏⲧⲉ ⲛⲧⲉⲕⲕⲗⲏⲥⲓ̈ⲁ̄· ⲃⲱⲗ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ⲙⲡ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲩ<ⲉ> ⲉⲑⲟⲟⲩ ⲛⲧⲉϩⲓ̈ⲏ̄ ⲛⲛⲣⲉϥⲙⲟⲟⲩⲧ ⲉϩⲛ ⲣⲁⲧⲟⲩ ⲛⲛⲛⲧⲁⲩⲉⲛⲧⲟⲩ ⲉϩⲣⲁⲓ̈ ϫⲓ̈ⲛ ⲛϣⲟⲣⲡ̄ ⲛⲧⲉⲓ̈ϩⲉ.

Now, as for all of these things, when you reveal them in the middle of the church, release the bad sandal from the way of the dead toward (?) those who have been brought up from the beginning in this way.^[117]

Holl’s emendation <ἐν> is supported by the Coptic version. Instead of ὑπόδειγμα the Coptic has ⲡ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲩ, which Leipoldt translates as “mountain.” An alternate meaning could be “monastery,” and it would be entirely possible for our Copt to have interpolated a reference to bad monasteries. However, the solution is easier. ⲡ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲩ should be emended to ⲡ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲩⲉ, “sandal,” where the final epsilon was omitted due to haplography, likely by a later copyist. Thus, our translator read ὑπόδημα instead of ὑπόδειγμα in his Greek Vorlage, which Oscar von Lemm realized already in 1909, from the Coptic text published by Leipoldt, though he did not elaborate on this point.^[118] This must in fact have been the original reading of our Greek text. The sandals are images of mortal sins in chapter 102 of the Ancoratus, which we do not have in Coptic:

Christ shepherds his flock in the holy land . . . and gives the order to untie the sandal of the feet of the shepherds, as Moses first said, which is why those who have received the tradition also themselves lead those who are inducted into the holy knowledge safely by the hand, taking care to untie the sandals of each one. But each of us have different sandals, for each will untie them by his own action.^[119]

Epiphanius then goes on to list different sins as examples of such “sandals” that the readers, as good teachers and shepherds, should take care to untie from the feet of their flock. The reference to Moses is from Exod 3:5, where he is commanded by God to loosen the sandals from his feet before entering the holy ground, and this passage is reprised in chapter 115 of the Ancoratus,^[120] where it is explained as referring to purification before entering into the baptismal font. The holy ground of Exodus is thus interpreted as the holy church, and untying the sandals is the required purification to be made by catechumens before baptism.

The verb ὑπολύετε in our problematic sentence—literally “to loosen underneath,” or simply “untie sandals”—makes it clear that the Greek original must have been ὑπόδημα, not ὑπόδειγμα. Thus, ⲃⲱⲗ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ⲙⲡ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲩ<ⲉ> ⲉⲑⲟⲟⲩ ⲛⲧⲉϩⲓ̈ⲏ̄ {ⲛ}ⲛⲣⲉϥⲙⲟⲟⲩⲧ reflects κακὸν ὑπόδημα θανασίμης ὁδοῦ . . . ὑπολύετε. The other part of the sentence is trickier. ⲉϩⲛ ⲣⲁⲧⲟⲩ must be emended to ⲉ<ⲧ>ϩⲛ ⲣⲁⲧⲟⲩ, “which is on their feet,” based on the biblical antecedent, Exod 3:5: ⲃⲱⲗ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ⲙⲡⲧⲟⲟⲩⲉ ⲉⲧϩⲛ ⲛⲉⲕⲟⲩⲉⲣⲏⲧⲉ for ὑπόλυσαι τὰ ὑποδήματα ἐκ τῶν ποδῶν σου.^[121] Furthermore, τοὺς οὕτω προαχθέντας must originally have been in Genitive, as in the Coptic (ⲛⲛⲛⲧⲁⲩⲉⲛⲧⲟⲩ), not in Accusative. Possibly ἐκ τῶν ποδῶν was omitted due to the eye of a later Greek copyist jumping from ὁδοῦ to ποδῶν. Once ὑπόδημα had been turned into ὑπόδειγμα and ἐκ τῶν ποδῶν was gone, someone corrected τῶν προαχθέντων to τοὺς προαχθέντας as the object of ὑπολύετε. The morpheme προ-, indicating “those who have been led forward,” was not fully understood by the Copt, who rendered it ϫⲓ̈ⲛ ⲛϣⲟⲣⲡ̄, “from the beginning.”

The Coptic text thus indicates that its Greek Vorlage was the following (underlining represents the meaning-units corresponding to each other but placed in different parts of the sentence):

κακὸν ὑπόδημα θανασίμης ὁδοῦ <ἐκ τῶν ποδῶν> τ<ῶν> οὕτω προαχθέντ<ων> ὑπολύετε

ⲃⲱⲗ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ⲙⲡ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲩ<ⲉ> ⲉⲑⲟⲟⲩ ⲛⲧⲉϩⲓ̈ⲏ̄ {ⲛ}ⲛⲣⲉϥⲙⲟⲟⲩⲧ ⲉ<ⲧ>ϩⲛ ⲣⲁⲧⲟⲩ ⲛⲛⲛⲧⲁⲩⲉⲛⲧⲟⲩ ⲉϩⲣⲁⲓ̈ ϫⲓ̈ⲛ ⲛϣⲟⲣⲡ̄ ̄ⲧⲉⲓ̈ϩⲉⲓ̈

“loosen a bad sandal of the deadly path from the feet of those who have been led forward in this way.”^[122]

This makes perfect sense after the exhortation to reveal the passages from pagan mythology in church as bad “sandals” of a deadly path, which must be loosened and thrown away before entering church, just as Moses untied his sandals before approaching the holy ground.

5.4 The Unspiritual Interpretation of Soulful and Earthly Heretics

At the end of this ecclesiastical passage Epiphanius tells his readers that they should exhort their flock to emulate the zeal of monks, and that they should expel heretics, singling out Manicheans and Marcionites here, who are devoid of the Spirit and therefore blaspheme against the Creator without any knowledge:

τά τε βαθύτατα τοῦ νόμου καὶ τῶν προφητῶν οἷα δὴ γεώδεις ὄντες καὶ σωματικοί ἀνακρινόμενοι οὐ νοοῦσι.

Since they are in fact of the earthly kind and condemned as bodily, they do not understand the deepest things of the law and of the prophets.^[123]

ⲛⲥⲉⲛⲟⲓ̈ ⲁⲛ ⲛⲛⲉⲑⲏⲡ ⲙ̄ⲡ̄ⲛⲟⲙⲟⲥ· ⲙⲛ ⲛⲉⲡⲣⲟⲫⲏⲧⲏⲥ· ⲛⲑⲉ ϩⲱⲥ ⲉⲩϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲕⲁϩ ⲙ̄ⲯⲩⲭⲓ̈ⲕⲟⲛ· ⲉⲩⲇⲓ̈ⲁⲕⲣⲓ̈ⲛⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟⲟⲩ ⲛⲥⲉⲛⲟⲓ̈ ⲁⲛ ⲛⲗⲁⲁⲩ.

They do not understand the hidden things of the law and the prophets. Even as they are from the earth and are judged to be soulful, they do not understand anything.^[124]

On the basis of the Coptic version Holl emended <ψυχικῶς> ἀνακρινό<ντες>, meaning that the heretics judge the deep things of the law and the prophets in a soulful rather than spiritual manner, referring to 1 Cor 2:14 where it is stated that those who are without spirit have no knowledge of the spiritual things of God. But ⲙ̄ⲯⲩⲭⲓ̈ⲕⲟⲛ is not an adverb, and it replaces σωματικοί. It looks like an attributative to ⲡⲕⲁϩ, giving us the odd concept of “soulful earth,” which provides a clear allusion to Gen 2:6–7 and 1 Cor 15:46–47: “But the first human is not spiritual but soulful; the spiritual human (is) after. The first human is earthly from earth, the second human is from heaven.”^[125] But the key to the passage is an earlier passage of the Ancoratus, unfortunately not preserved in the Coptic: “The Son speaks spiritually, the holy Logos which came to us from the Father; but the soulful ones are condemned since they do not understand (οἱ δὲ ψυχικοὶ ἀνακρίνονται μὴ νοοῦντες) the wisdom of the Son, or rather the Logos of the wisdom.”^[126] The italicized words correspond closely to our passage, but here the Greek has changed the word ψυχικοί to σωματικοί. A later copyist must have had problems understanding what was likely Epiphanius’ original sentence, οἷα δὴ γεώδεις ὄντες καὶ ψυχικοὶ ἀνακρινόμενοι, “since they are earthly and condemned as soulful,” identifying his heretical opponents with the first human of 1 Cor 2:14–15, at a pre-spiritual level of understanding. Epiphanius again alludes to Paul, who says that the psychics will be judged spiritually.^[127] The Coptic has changed ἀνακρινόμενοι to ⲉⲩⲇⲓ̈ⲁⲕⲣⲓ̈ⲛⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟⲟⲩ, and we should likely associate ⲙ̄ⲯⲩⲭⲓ̈ⲕⲟⲛ with this phrase rather than ⲡⲕⲁϩ as suggested earlier, so that we get “they are judged to be soulful,” similar to the proposed Greek original.

Interestingly, the rhetorical strategy of labeling one’s opponents as soulful (ψυχικοί), devoid of spirit, while portraying oneself as spiritual, in fact corresponds to the critique Epiphanius levels against the Valentinian heretics, also attested in Clement’s excerpts from Theodotus and elsewhere.^[128]

Conclusion

I have argued for a likely historical context for the Coptic translation of the Ancoratus soon after its composition, and sketched out some reasons why the text in Coptic would have been welcome to the Upper Egyptian anti-Origenists at the time. Yet it is hardly credible that a person able to read through the lengthy and (let us face it) dreary theological tract would not also have been able to read the Greek original, so why translate the treatise at all? In fact, the intended use of the Ancoratus is indicated in the conclusion of the anti-pagan portion of the work, already treated above (no. 3–4), which clearly also refers back to the anti-heretical parts of the work.^[129] We already know that the treatise was addressed to presbyters and monks, who had requested an authoritative doctrinal work. The tirade against pagan mythology, Epiphanius suggests, should repeatedly be investigated whenever the congregation is gathered at church, in order to untie the bad sandals from the flock:

And whenever you impart all these things laboring through oral expression . . . engender the zeal of monks in the greatest number. By the firmest faith without dissimulation in you, who abhor heretics, who muzzle Manichaeans, Marcionites, and the rest similar to them, expel them from the fold of God, dismissing and bridling all of their pretexts.^[130]

The Ancoratus is thus meant to serve as an aide-mémoire for oral refutations of heretics, which would have been performed by monastic or church leaders in Coptic in Upper Egypt. It is worth pointing out that Epiphanius in the above-quoted sentence clearly sees the heretics not as constituting separate sects, but spreading their false message within the fold of God. Orthodox leaders should thus use the Ancoratus as proof text against the heretics in churches and monasteries, in order to expose and expel their message, much like Theodore publicly refuted Patchelpius’ rejection of the resurrection of the flesh in Pbow, according to the Letter of Ammon.

This corresponds to the use of other Coptic translations of pre-Chalcedonian patristic sources: they are mostly homilies, meant to be performed in front of an audience, not doctrinal treatises. Seen in the light of its purpose for oral presentation, the Ancoratus seems to be less of an abnormality than its companion piece in the White Monastery codex, the treatise On the 12 stones, which explains the stones in the breastplate of the Israelite high priest allegorically. Our Coptic translation was not meant for the solitary consumption of a literate elite, who might as well have read it in the Greek original, but for use in public addresses in monasteries, as well as city and village churches, where there was a perceived danger that anti-Nicene and Origenist sympathizers might lead the flock astray.

Article Note

This paper derives in part from work undertaken under the aegis of NEWCONT (New Contexts for Old Texts: Unorthodox Texts and Monastic Manuscript Culture in Fourth- and Fifth-Century Egypt) at the University of Oslo, Faculty of Theology. The project was funded by the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Community’s Seventh Framework Programme (FP7/2007–2013)/ERC Grant Agreement no. 283741.

Published Online: 2022-10-29

Published in Print: 2022-08-26

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Articles in the same Issue

https://doi.org/10.1515/zac-2022-0020

Keywords for this article

Epiphanius of Salamis; Origenist Controversy; Coptic Translation; Heresiology; Egyptian Monasticism

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