Additionally, many of these collections focus on ethics and imitating the famous figure. To facilitate these goals, often the letters include personal data or alleged historical details that might motivate the reader to copy the philosopher’s behavior. Since the reader knew the important figure of the distant past was not in fact the author, presenting the personal details as though the philosopher himself wrote it was not deceptive, but rather a literary convention that served to promote the well-known ideals of the philosophy. Because genuine letters can exhibit similar characteristics, such as encouraging imitation and stressing ethics, recognizing pseudepigraphic epistles is not, therefore, always simple and straightforward.
Pausing for a moment, it seems useful to ask whether the characteristics noted above are helpful in deciding whether there are pseudepigraphic letters in the New Testament. A review of the various Greco-Roman corpuses reveals few similarities with the Pauline corpus. Many in the former category do not have the sender’s name in each letter; rather, the real reader knows who the sender is because the letter is embedded in the larger corpus of epistles attributed to that figure. Second, often the material is of a very general nature, amounting to a philosophical reflection. Third, the letters are usually much shorter than the ones in the New Testament, though a few are the length of Paul’s shorter letters. Finally, the attributed author is a figure from the distant, classical Greek period. An exception is the second-century CE collection of Apollonius of Tyana’s letters, which, as single-line statements or quips, are hardly comparable to the epistles of the New Testament.
Authority and Ownership of Literary “Property”
Digging deeper into the issue of ancient pseudepigraphy requires an examination into the sense of intellectual property held at the time, and the role of the apostle and apostolic authority within the early church. While no copyright law existed in the ancient world (that would not happen until the advent of the printing press), there were guidelines and standards of behavior. Readers held a much more laissez-faire attitude towards fictitious letters by Plato, and reacted strongly against letters reportedly by Cicero but written by another. The rule of thumb was that if the alleged author is long deceased, and his ideas and thoughts had been widely disseminated and absorbed, then producing letters to help an audience understand the great man’s personal life and ideas was considered acceptable. As noted above, letter collections of Plato, Diogenes and other Cynic philosophers, or Pythagoras (sixth-century BCE philosopher and mathematician) and the Neo-Pythagoreans, were usually produced by a school, or at least several hands are evident in the final redaction. Indeed, ancient commentators pointed out that Pythagoras was known to have written little himself, but much of his surviving work is the result of his disciples’ careful note taking. For example, Porphyry (second-century CE Neoplatonist) notes that of the 280 works with Pythagoras’ name attached, only 80 are from the philosopher directly; the others were written by his disciples. This fact was not troubling because, as Iamblichus (Neoplatonist, ca. 250–325 CE) observes, it was their custom to sign everything in their master’s name. Olympiodorus (sixth-century CE Neoplatonist) notes that Pythagoras did not leave any personal writings behind because he believed his “spiritual” writings, his disciples, were a better source for hearing his philosophy. These students out of goodwill for their esteemed teacher wrote down his teachings from their notes. Pythagoras is thus somewhat distinctive in that he chose not to write but instructed his students to do so. We have no record of Paul making a similar request, and of course, Paul also wrote some letters. But if someone wrote in Cicero’s name, or Seneca’s, they faced condemnation, because the purpose of writing such a letter was either the real author’s personal gain or the disgrace of the important figure. The physician Galen (second century CE) laments that his works were redacted in inappropriate and lazy ways that violated his literary property. He wrote On His Own Books in an attempt to stem the tide of these inferior works, wherein he recounts an incident that highlights his frustration over forgeries and unscrupulous editors. He explains that a group had gathered in a bookshop and was discussing the authenticity of one of his books. A fellow steps forward, reads the first couple of lines, and tosses it aside as fake, because it was evident that it was not Galen’s style.28 Likewise Quintilian says he published only one of his court orations; however, to his great dismay, the court stenographers, having recorded what was said, later took his ideas and expressed them in their own words.29 Quintilian felt he should have the rights to publish his spoken word, that his orations were not part of public domain.
What troubled these authors and others was not simply that someone might gain financially from this deception, but that the entire corpus of their work, their ideas and reputation, could be smeared or lowered with the addition of works claiming to be their own. Herodotus explains that Onomacritus was exiled from Athens for adding to the oracles of Musaeus.30 Diogenes Laertius notes that the Stoic Diotimus wrote fifty obscene letters in his opponent Epicurus’ name, attempting to ruin his reputation.31 But notice also in Galen’s story above that at least some ancient readers asked questions of authorship by examining the style of a work compared to known authentic texts. Suetonius echoes the same sentiment in his critique of some works in the Homer corpus that he identifies as not genuine because they are both common and obscure, that is, their style and grammar did not match that of the genuine works of Homer. “What emerges clearly is the widespread use of pseudonymity in Greco-Roman antiquity, a literary practice well-regarded by some but held in contempt by others.”32
Plato’s Noble Falsehood
Alongside the question of intellectual property is Plato’s concept of a noble falsehood. The idea taught that if a fabrication would help a person, then it was acceptable for someone to tell a lie. The example often given by the ancient authors themselves was of a physician who, in order to help the patient, would lie about a remedy so that the patient would follow orders and thus be healed. Some argue that the early church would have accepted a pseudepigraphic letter if its content was in line with apostolic thought, because the message mattered more than the medium. While it is true that a few church fathers speak favorably of the noble falsehood, the contexts differ so greatly from the issues of apostolic writings so as to limit their usefulness in the argument. For example, Chrysostom approves of the noble falsehood, but the context is his “lie” to his friend concerning their joining the priesthood.33 He explains why he was not straightforward about his own actions in the matter, but notes that he obfuscated his position for his friend’s greater good. Again, Origen admits that the noble falsehood is a logically conceivable way of understanding how Jesus might have taught.34 But he then goes on to reject that possibility as it pertains to Christ. Finally, Clement of Alexandria uses the concept, even citing the example similar to the one noted above of a physician’s practice.35 He suggests that such was also used by Paul in circumcising Timothy, but in the end he says that he cannot accept the label of deceit; Paul was accommodating to the Jewish sensibilities, not being deceitful. Interestingly, Chrysostom, in his long explanation to his friend about his apparent duplicity, also notes Paul’s circumcision of Timothy, and likewise rejects a label of deception. In any case, while these few church fathers do acknowledge the noble falsehood as a possible reality in their daily lives, they do not accept it as the modus operandi for apostles and Jesus Christ. It seems, then, that the early believers would not have countenanced a pseudepigraphic letter on the grounds it that was a noble falsehood.
Evidence from the Early Church
The early church resisted accepting as authoritative anything beyond the apostolic period, such as the Acts of Paul.36 For example, in the fifth century, the presbyter Salvian wrote Timothei ad Ecclesiam (libri IV). The local bishop guessed that his presbyter was responsible, and protested the writing. Salvian responded that he knew who wrote it (he denied responsibility), and that he felt it necessary to attach an authoritative name to the work, for otherwise no one would read it. Moreover, Salvian asserted the author was being humble by not attaching his name. And anyway, the name Timothy was chosen as a play on words, for it means “honor of God.” Salvian wanted it both ways, to say that people read it because of the reputed author, and that the name means nothing. At bottom, Salvian (the likely author) used the name Timothy to deceive