Paul’s Journey to Heaven,Hell and Back

Among the 24 paper and parchment manuscripts of the Edfu-Esna group acquired for the British Museum between 1907–1911 and edited (one may dare to say-too) swiftly by E. A. Wallis Budge between 1913–1915, what is unfortunately the only (incompletely) preserved codex containing the Apocalypse of Paul ¹ suffered a peculiar editorial fate. In Budge’s edition, the summary, the printed Coptic text, and the translation each offer a different version of the sequence of the preserved folios of the text. ² Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta and Jacques van der Vliet have made a collaborative effort to mend this situation, and the result is admirable in almost every way. It is an unfortunate coincidence that their work was published at the same time as Bart Ehrman’s new book, Journeys to Heaven and Hell, ³ as both likely would have had a positive impact on the other. Especially so since Ehrman seems to regard the Coptic tradition as of rather limited trustworthiness. ⁴

The resulting book of Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta and Jacques van der Vliet is divided into five chapters and two appendices. After ten pages devoted to modern paratextual features, the introduction (pp. 1–18) guides the readers through previous scholarship regarding the text in question and presents the layout of the present edition. Chapter 1 delivers a report about the Coptic manuscript tradition. Most of this is naturally reserved for the largest Coptic manuscript, the aforementioned British Library Ms. Or. 7023 & Or. 6808A = P.Lond.Copt. II 158. The description features the date, provenance, and modern history (pp. 19–21), the codicological description and analysis (pp. 21–27) with the correction of the garbled sequence of the quires which has thus far been given, and a reedition of the manuscript’s colophon (pp. 27–32), which has permitted the authors to arrive at a secure reading for the date, thus situating the text in ad 960. Finally, information is provided with regards to the scribe and his family, alongside an overview on the language and orthography of the edited text (pp. 33–39). The rest of the chapter introduces three additional but fragmentarily preserved witnesses:

• one from the Ilves collection in Finland (pp. 39–42, with sections of §§49.2, 49.3, and 50.1–2), ⁵

• a leaf in Vienna of a ‘pirate edition’ of the text as Apocalypse of St Athanasius (pp. 42–47, end of §47.4–49.1) ⁶ as well as,

• some fragments in Fayyumic Coptic identified recently by V. Walter in the Leipzig University Library collection (pp. 47–48, §§40.1–4).

The final pages of Chapter 1 evaluate the Greek fragment attributed to the texts’ witness with a confirmation of that identification (pp. 48–50).

Chapter 2 is devoted to the structure of the Sahidic version of the Apocalypse of Paul, guiding the reader through the narrative. It commences with the discussion of the lost title (pp. 51–53), and then goes on to discuss the possible initial setting on the Mount of Olives with good arguments against the so-called Tarsus prologue extant in other translations of the text and suggesting a setting mirrored in the epilogue instead (pp. 53–63, especially with the table on p. 60). Part 3 of the chapter (pp. 64–73) first offers a quick overview on the structure, continuing on to provide the concentric structure of the whole narrative and then offering a discussion dedicated to the debated issue of the length of the text with it traditionally considered, based on the verdict of Montague Rhodes James, that everything after §54 (according the numbering of the present edition) would be ‘to a great extent … a pasticcio from other Coptic apocrypha’. ⁷ This is followed by a discussion of the general intention of the text which includes examinations of the following: the meaning of punishment and reward (pp. 73–75), the praise of the Apostle Paul (pp. 75–77), the description of a morally structured cosmos (pp. 77–83), and the text’s persuasiveness (pp. 84–87). Part 5 of chapter 3 discusses the final stages of Paul’s journey, the third heaven, celestial paradise, and his throne therein (pp. 87–93). The chapter culminates in the evaluation of the architecture of the text in Sahidic (pp. 93–94) and the value of this version (pp. 94–96). The editors conclude that the Coptic version should be considered the closest to the original Greek version.

Chapter 3 situates the Apocalypse of Paul in the socio-historical and cultural realm of Christian Egypt. In its first part (pp. 99–120), the text is contextualised with regards to the Egyptian apocalyptic literature such as the Testament of Abraham (pp. 101–106), the Second Apocalypse of Paul known from NHC V (pp. 106–108), the Apocalypse of Peter, usually considered to be the main role model of at least the Apocalypse of Paul (pp. 109–113), and the Apocalypse of Zephaniah, a text of equal importance for the author of the Apocalypse of Paul (pp. 114–120). The second part of the chapter (pp. 120–133) examines the influence of the Apocalypse of Paul on other texts and the references to it within them, such as the Life of Pachomius (pp. 121–126), monastic literature such as the Apocalypse of Shenoute, the Life of Euthymius, that of Cyrus, that of Pesynthios, and the Martyrdom of Macarius of Antioch (pp. 127–133). The third part of the chapter (pp. 133–150) deals with what the editors labelled Windows on the Invisible, again adducing evidence from a plethora of texts such as the Book of Bartholomew, a Homily on John the Baptist attributed to John Chrysostom or the Book of the Investiture of St Michael archangel, but also the lost dipinti from a church in Tebtynis or a Coptic Magical text on an ostracon (Cairo JE 49547, KYP M297). The conclusion again highlights the importance of the text for many other works, especially within Pachomian monastic culture.

The time and place of the text are the focus of Chapter 4 (pp. 152–164) which starts by evaluating the external indications for the date of the text, such as the famous quote in Sozomen’s church history (VII.19). Further indicators are to be found within the text itself, the authors stressing Jan Bremmer’s results that ‘it can have hardly been written before the middle of the fourth century’ (p. 155 with references). In the ensuing part (pp. 156–164), the editors develop a possible model of transmission, which at times sounds a little too speculative, but will definitely serve as a starting point for further discussion.

The philological centre of gravity of the work is naturally the text edition (pp. 165–223), presented with the Coptic text in running sequence opposite the English translation. Both are organised and subdivided by modern chapter numberings, with references made to the manuscript’s page breaks. ⁸ This is followed by an extensive commentary (pp. 224–407) which is in itself a model of scholarly erudition, referencing back to the text’s modern chapter subdivisions including the Coptic passage under discussion.

The book is augmented by the edition of a folio held in Vienna, mentioned above, that offers a section of text rewritten with St Athanasius now appearing as the major character in Appendix 1 (pp. 408–410) and a modern edition of the Arabic version of the ‘pirate version’ of the text contributed by Jos van Lent based on twentieth century print editions of the text (pp. 411–457). The book is completed by the extensive bibliography (pp. 458–487), lexical indices of the Coptic text (pp. 488–508) ⁹ that include selected references to grammatical and lexical discussions, but unfortunately there is no complete grammatical index. One can also find indices for references made in the volume to ancient texts (pp. 509–520) and to modern authors (pp. 521–522).

As can be gathered from this overview, the work of Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta and Jacques van der Vliet is indeed, at a first glance, a hefty tome for a text edition that covers only 54 pages of the 522. The reader can be assured, however, that every page is worth the read.

The translation of the Coptic is generally outstanding and favours literary flair over literal reproduction of Coptic syntax ¹⁰ a fact much appreciated by the reviewer as it makes the reading of the translation a rewarding intellectual endeavour; occasional disagreement over details notwithstanding. With regards to the editorial practise of text editing in Coptic studies, the reviewer has already expressed his standpoint on the matter in the Journal of Coptic Studies, ¹¹ to which Jacques van der Vliet has replied in same journal, ¹² so there is no need for repetition. The reviewer considers it nevertheless regrettable that the text is not available in a diplomatic form. In addition, the use of interpunction in the Coptic text edition does not always mirror that of the translation. Thus, the readers will find on p. 172.1–4 (Coptic text) and p. 173.1–4 (English translation) the following mismatch in §16.3:

Now, while the respective segmentation of the Coptic and the English are largely comprehensible on their own account, the reviewer fails to grasp the reason for the difference and wonders whether this does indeed make the text easier to follow for the readers with superficial knowledge of Coptic.

Among the possible Coptic cases of intertextual allusions to the Apocalypse of Paul (see Chapter 3 Part 2), one might add a description of the hour of death in a sermon attributed to Cyril of Alexandria (preserved only in Bohairic), where we read about relatives and friends in distress in their last hours: ¹³

If they behold all these changing images, they tremble at once. O, these lion faces and serpent faces and bird faces and changing faces.

An allusion to baptism in a lake or pond, this time one of fire though, is granted by the Lord to St Theodore the Eastern next to the Lord’s throne, and is found in the Martyrdom of SS Theodore, Leontius & Panigerus: ¹⁴

And the Saviour said further to Theodore: ‘If you wish to serve me in truth, then throw yourself down into this pond of fire (ⲉⲧⲉⲓⲗⲓⲙⲛⲏ ⲛⲥⲁⲧⲉ) so that you may be cleansed (ϫⲉⲉⲕⲉⲕⲁⲑⲁⲣⲓⲍⲉ).’

I replied: ‘I am scared, my Lord.’

Then one of those standing beside him suspended me by the hair of my head, immersed me three times, and put me on my feet again. And behold, my body was clad in a pure garment. And, immediately, I was full of confidence of myself in his presence, like those standing around him who are ready to do what comes forth from his mouth.

However, the allusions would probably be no more than that, and there are apparently no direct quotations from the older text. Slightly more obvious is the text of the conversation of St Phoibammon of Preht with the archangel Gabriel: ¹⁵

The angel said to blessed Apa Phoibamon: ‘I have already prepared for you a crown of glory and a throne up in the third heaven () beside your lord. Persevere, and do not fear, because great strength will be in you, apart from your martyrdom, which was ordained to you in the heavens. I am angel Gabriel, serving you since your childhood’.

Most unfortunate, however, is the absence of subject index, as the authors supply a treasure trove of discussions of the most variegated topics. Without such an index, these topics remain hidden within the more than 500 pages, a fact that is indeed a loss to any scholar in search for them.

The following detailed remarks do not intend to criticize the editors’ work, but attempt to improve it, as far as is possible: ¹⁶

• pp. 40–41: The reviewer is not so sure about the superiority of the text as transmitted in the manuscript in the Ilves collection as at least one of the two quoted instances, ⲡⲉⲓ̈ϩⲣⲁⲓ̈ ϩⲛ̄ⲧⲡⲟⲗⲓⲥ, seems grammatically dubious as printed. For the editors’ ‘who (was) in the city’, one would rather expect ⲡⲉⲧϩⲣⲁⲓ̈ ϩⲛ̄ⲧⲡⲟⲗⲓⲥ. However, Ivan Miroshnikov/Bergen kindly supplied me with an image of the fragment pointing out that the ⲡ in ⲡⲉⲓ̈ϩⲣⲁⲓ̈ is not very clear. And indeed, only the vertical strokes of the initial letter can be discerned clearly. Yet, there is a small onset of ink in the upper part of the left vertical speaking in favour of either ⲙ or ⲛ. As the former makes no sense, the reviewer suggests reading the Coptic text of Lot’s answer as ⲁⲛⲟⲕ ⲡⲉ ⲛ̣ⲉⲓϩⲣⲁⲓ̈ ϩⲛ̄ⲧⲡⲟⲗⲓⲥ ⲛ̄ⲛ̄ⲁⲥⲉⲃⲏⲥ and translating as ‘I am. I was dwelling in the city of the impious.’ ¹⁷ In this way, it answers also more elegantly to Paul’s question: ‘Are you Lot?’ For another issue of that manuscript, see the remark on p. 212.19–20 §50.1 below.

• p. 47: For the localisation of the Fayyumic dialect of Coptic in the area of the Herakleopolites, see now Peust 2017.

• p. 174.3 §17.1 ⲡⲁⲥⲁϣϥ̄ <ⲡⲉ> ⲡⲟⲟⲩ: Although the pattern is more often attested with a copula, the restoration to a nominal sentence does not necessarily seem to be required by grammar, see Müller 2015: 112 ex. 67 (Adverbial sentence) vs. 94–95 ex. 14, 99 ex. 27, 1 Sam 12:17 or Isa 37:3 (Nominal sentence), as it seems to have been analysed as NP or AdvP. In the reviewer’s mentioned article, it has been argued that the nominal sentence pattern would be the later adjustment reacting to a functional restriction of sentences with adverbial predication.

• p. 174.5 §17.1 ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲣⲣ̄ ⲟⲩ ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ ⲡⲁⲛⲧⲱⲥ ⲛ̄ⲧⲟ ⲟⲩⲁⲧⲛⲁ: Since the Coptic dispenses with marking the second sentence (e.g., as ⲡⲁⲛⲧⲱⲥ ⲛⲉⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲩⲁⲧⲛⲁ) ¹⁸ as an imperfect, one wonders whether the accusation is kept more general on purpose. Hence, after ‘What have you done in the world?’ the translation ‘Undoubtedly, you are merciless, …’ might be preferred over ‘Probably you were merciless, …’ thereby stressing the fact that the soul still has not truly repented.

• p. 176.28 §20.2 ϩⲁⲙⲟⲓ ⲛⲅ̄ⲛⲁⲩ ϫⲉ: Is the emendation from the manuscript’s ⲁⲙⲟⲩ ⲛⲅ̄ⲛⲁⲩ ϫⲉ really necessary? ‘Come and see that your pains … have been accepted’ seems to make sense as well.

• p. 178.23–24 §22.1 ⲉⲟⲩⲛ̄ ⲟⲩⲟⲛ ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲟⲩ ⲉϥⲛⲁⲣ̄ ⲙⲁⲁⲃ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϩⲉ ⲛ̄ϣⲓⲏ ⲟⲩⲛ̄ ⲟⲩⲟⲛ ⲉϥⲛⲁⲣ̄ ϫⲱⲟⲩⲧ ⲟⲩⲛ̄ ⲟⲩⲟⲛ ⲉϥⲛⲁⲣ̄ ⲙⲏⲧ: Although the flow of the narrative calls for a translation as ‘some of them’ as the editors have it, the Coptic text actually seems to single them out saying: ‘there was one among them measuring thirty cubits in height, one measuring twenty, one measuring ten.’

• p. 180.15–17 §22.5 : Contrary to the editors’ opinion in the commentary (p. 275), the emendation to a nominal sentence in the protasis is probably unnecessary, if not even ungrammatical. Layton (2011: §353) does not list any examples of the conjunctive after a nominal sentence as initial protasis. Instead, patterns such as Gal 1:8 quoted by Layton (2011: §354) supply an argument that we have a fronted subject resumed in a conjunctive clause as main clause. The translation can then be adjusted accordingly: ‘If a fornicator or sinner converts, and repents, and bears fruit worthy of repentance, and comes forth from the body, …’

• p. 180.24 §23.1 with the commentary on pp. 276–277 ⲉⲟⲩⲛ̄ϣⲟⲙⲛ̄ⲧ ⲛ̄ϣⲟ̄ ⲛ̄ⲁⲅⲅⲉⲗⲟⲥ ⲧⲁⲗⲏⲩ ⲉⲣⲟϥ: It seems that not only in the Latin version the 3000 angels are not steering the ship, but also in the Coptic text they are simply said to have boarded the ship.

• p. 180.29 §23.2 with the commentary on p. 278 ⲉⲣⲉⲡⲥⲟⲃⲧ ⲡⲥⲟⲃⲧ ⲟ ⲛ̄ϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲥⲧⲁⲇⲓⲟⲛ ⲉⲩⲕⲱⲧⲉ: Possibly the Coptic translator tried to express the distance between the walls here as discussed in the commentary, for the text does not say ‘and each wall measured hundred stadia in its circumference’, but rather ‘while per wall it was hundred stadia in a circumference’.

• p. 180.31–32 §23.3 with the commentary on p. 278 ⲙ̄ⲡϩⲟⲩⲛ ⲇⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲡⲟⲗⲓⲥ ⲉⲣⲉ ⲉⲓⲉⲡⲥⲁ ⲛⲓⲙ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲡⲉⲓⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲥ: The Coptic does not necessarily need to be emended (the commentary assumed the loss of a main clause here) as the verbal pattern could have been that of a focus-marking Present II. The (in our explanatory models) redundant feature of both fronting and focus-marking via form is attested often enough. ¹⁹

• p. 194.6 §37.2 ⲛⲁⲓ ⲛⲉⲧⲉϣⲁⲩⲕⲁⲧⲁⲗⲁⲗⲉⲓ ϩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲕⲕⲗⲏⲥⲓⲁ̄: The Coptic text looks grammatically like a cleft sentence in this presentation, which does not make much sense here (‘It are these who slandered within the church’) as there is no contrast involved. The reviewer would suggest therefore an emendation to ⲛⲁⲓ <ⲛⲉ> ⲛⲉⲧⲉϣⲁⲩⲕⲁⲧⲁⲗⲁⲗⲉⲓ ϩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲕⲕⲗⲏⲥⲓⲁ̄ to arrive at the editors’ more fitting translation (‘These are they who slandered within the church …’) or, in comparison with 194.24–25 §39.1 (ⲛⲁⲓ ⲛⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲩϫⲱϩⲙ̄ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲡⲁⲣⲑⲉⲛⲟⲥ) rather to a bipartite nominal sentence ⲛⲁⲓ ⲛⲉ <ⲉ>ⲧⲉϣⲁⲩⲕⲁⲧⲁⲗⲁⲗⲉⲓ ϩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲕⲕⲗⲏⲥⲓⲁ̄.

• p. 194.9–10 §38.1 ⲁⲓⲛⲁⲩ ⲟⲛ ⲉⲩⲉⲓⲁⲗ ?ⲡⲉϫⲁⲓ ⲙ̄ⲡⲁⲅⲅⲉⲗⲟⲥ ϫⲉⲡⲁϫⲟⲉⲓ̄ⲥ ϩⲉⲛⲟⲩ ⲛⲉ ⲛⲁⲓ ⲉⲧϩⲟⲥⲉ: There is a reference switch here from singular (ⲉⲩⲉⲓⲁⲗ) to plural (ϩⲉⲛⲟⲩ ⲛⲉ ⲛⲁⲓ ⲉⲧϩⲟⲥⲉ). Even though it destroys the elegant text flow with Paul asking first about the blood-coloured pool and later about the people therein (§38.2), the reviewer would nevertheless suggest to consider Paul’s question as referring to the people in torture and to translate ‘Who are these who are suffering?’ ²⁰ instead of the editors’ ‘What kind of harsh places are these?’ despite their arguments in the commentary on p. 323. In addition, this change of number reference is not the same as the ones described in the introduction (p. 35).

• p. 194.18 §38.3 ⲛⲁ<ⲓ> ⲛⲉ ⲛ̄ϣⲁⲩⲡⲟⲣⲛⲉⲩⲉ: The form of the Aorist relative with initial ⲛ- was considered by Till as typically Fayyumic. ²¹ As the grammatical sketch given in the edition for P.Lond.Copt. II 158 (on pp. 33–37) does not point to any additional features specific to that dialect, any deliberations about a Vorlage from the Herakleopolites (see the note above to p. 47) would seem bold based upon an isolated verbal form.

• p. 194.33 §38.3 ⲉⲩⲕⲏ ⲉϩⲣⲁⲓ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲩⲙ̄ⲧⲟ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ: Instead of a lexical meaning (‘exhibited in front of them’), the reviewer would consider ⲕⲏ here as serving as an auxiliary as was common in Bohairic later, but attested also in earlier texts. ²²

• p. 198.16–17 §40.6 ⲙⲏ ⲛ̄ⲧⲕⲟⲩϣⲁⲛϩ̄ⲧϩϥ ⲣⲱ ⲛ̄ⲑⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ: Simply for stylistic reasons, the reviewer would suggest to translate ⲙⲏ-introduced questions as ones of inverted polarity, i.e., expecting the opposite meaning; so here ‘Are you as merciful as God?’ meaning Paul is certainly not as merciful as the Lord. ²³ In the following expositions of the angel, adjust the translation of ⲉⲧⲃⲉⲡⲁⲓ ⲁϥⲕⲁ from ‘therefore he allows’ to ‘therefore he allowed.’

• p. 198.30–31 §41.2 ⲙⲟⲅⲓⲥ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲟⲩⲣⲱⲙⲉ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩⲱⲧ ⲃⲱⲕ ⲉⲡⲉⲥⲏⲧ ⲉⲣⲟⲥ ϩⲛ̄ⲟⲩϩⲟϫϩⲉϫ: With Crum (1939: 744a s.v. ‘scarce could one man descend into pit ϩⲛ̄ⲟⲩϩ.’), the adverbial force of ⲙⲟⲅⲓⲥ seems to refer to the possibility of getting down rather than the number of persons as the editors translated (‘Only just a single man could descend into it with difficulty’).

• p. 200.5–6 §42.1–2 ⲉⲣⲉⲡⲟⲩⲉ̄ⲛⲧ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲉ̄ⲛⲧ̄ ⲉⲓⲣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩⲙⲁϩⲉ ⲛ̄ϣⲓⲏ: The emendation of the initial sentence preceding the quoted one rightly follows the logic of the Latin (see the commentary on pp. 342–343) and the Arabic version (pp. 444–445). However, as noted in the commentary, the spelling sits athwart here. Elsewhere in the manuscript, the word is always spelled with an initial ϥ, and it also seems to be the sole example of ϥⲛ̄ⲧ, ‘worm’ with initial ⲟⲩ referred to in Crum. ²⁴ As it stands, the text appears as if the copyist of this manuscript, or probably even an earlier one, had dropped that initial sentence and this or another scribe adjusted the text to a not very well fitting: ‘one cubit in length per hole,’ especially as the text speaks about a single place only. This would appear then as an additional, late reference to the narrow pit, no longer fitting with the ensuing ‘which had two heads’.

• p. 204.31 §45.3 with the commentary on pp. 361–362 ⲡⲡⲛⲉⲩⲙⲁ ⲛ̄ϣⲟⲣⲡ ⲡⲉ ϩⲓϫⲙ̄ ⲡⲙⲟⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲟϥ ⲟⲛ ⲡⲉ ϩⲓϫⲙ̄ ⲡϣⲏⲛ: For the supposed meaning ‘The same spirit that was first upon the water, dwells upon the tree’, the text needs to be emended to ⲡⲡⲛⲉⲩⲙⲁ <ⲉⲧ>ⲛ̄ϣⲟⲣⲡ {ⲡⲉ} ϩⲓϫⲙ̄ⲡⲙⲟⲟⲩ.

• p. 208.6 §47.2 ϩⲙ̄ⲡⲧⲣⲛⲥⲟⲩⲉⲛⲡⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ϩⲙ̄ⲡⲕⲟⲥⲙⲟⲥ: Usually, clauses of that type are understood as expressing a state of affairs simultaneous to the main clause (Layton, so ‘while we acknowledged God in the world’ ²⁵ ), instead, as translated, a causal clause (‘because we acknowledged God in the world’).

• p. 210.8–9 §49.1 : The consecutive translation of the last verbal form (ϣⲁⲛⲧⲟⲩⲙⲟⲟⲩⲧϥ̄, ‘so that he was killed’) seems almost a little bland in contrast to ‘until they killed him’ (as the editors preferred in the ensuing passages for this form).

• p. 210.25–26 §49.2 ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲣⲉⲁⲧⲡⲟⲗⲓⲥ ⲧⲱⲟⲩⲛ ⲉϫⲱⲟⲩ ⲉⲩⲟⲩⲱϣ ⲉⲣⲡⲉⲑⲟⲟⲩ ⲛⲁⲩ: In the reviewer’s understanding, the menacing and the harmful intent of the mob in Sodom are not two consecutive states of affairs in Coptic, but the latter is rather the circumstance of the former. So instead of the editors’ ‘… menaced them and wished to harm them’, he would suggest ‘menaced them wishing to harm them’.

• p. 212.19–20 §50.1 ⲁⲛⲅ̄ⲛⲱϩⲉ: This part of the text is lacking in the Esna-Edfu manuscript and is extant only on the second fragment in the Ilves collection. However, the grammar of the sentence poses a crux as the expected way to identify oneself as somebody is ⲁⲛⲟⲕ ⲡⲉ [proper name] in Coptic, as for instance in the main manuscript p. 210.22 ⲁⲛⲟⲕ ⲡⲉ ⲗⲱⲧ, ‘I am Lot’. ²⁶ The reading here is beyond doubt as the reviewer could convince himself with the help of the image supplied by Ivan Miroshnikov/Bergen. The latter pointed also towards the Fayyumic version of Mark 8:28, ²⁷ in which a similarly unexpected ⲟⲩⲁⲛϩⲁⲓ̈ⲛⲓ ϫⲱ [ⲙ]ⲙⲁⲥ ϫⲉⲛⲧⲉⲕⲓ̈ⲱⲁⲛ[ⲛ]ⲏⲥ ⲡⲗⲉϥϯϫⲱⲕⲉⲙ appears. He also confirmed Chassinat’s edited text from his own collation, and pointed out that the unfortunately never published second part of Wolf-Peter Funk’s ‘Formen und Funktionen des interlokutiven Nominalsatzes’ might have contained more examples. ²⁸ The same reference to the Fayyumic Mark is given by Ariel Shisha-Halevi, who adds in his study on the grammar of proper names ²⁹ NHC V 27.8–10 ⲁⲩⲱ ⲕⲛⲁϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲁⲛ ϭⲉ ⲉⲛⲧⲕ︥ⲓ̈ⲁⲕⲱⲃⲟⲥ ⲁⲛ?ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲕ ⲡⲉ ⲡⲏ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ, ‘You will no longer still be James, but you are He-who-is’, to this, and calls the pattern ‘very rare’. ³⁰ However, while for the example from Mark’s Gospel one might argue that the translator understood the function of the sentence here as classifying instead of identifying, ³¹ similar to examples such as ⲛ̄ⲥⲁϥ ⲉⲕϣⲙ̄ϣⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲁⲛⲅ̄ⲡⲉⲕϣⲏⲣⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲟⲟⲩⲇⲉ ⲁⲛⲅ̄ⲡⲉⲕϣⲏⲣⲉ ⲁⲛ ‘Yesterday, when you were worshiping God, I was your son. Yet today, I am not your son.’ from the Martyrdom of Victor the General, ³² the same seems difficult to assume here. In the Apophthegmata codex, one finds examples of the destressed pronouns in the tripartite pattern, ³³ but even such an assumption would have to call for an emendation to ⲁⲛⲅ̄ <ⲡⲉ> ⲛⲱϩⲉ. Beyond that, the reviewer is only aware of rather late examples such as ⲁⲛⲟⲕ ⲥⲟⲗⲟⲙⲱⲛ ⲡⲉⲕϩⲙϩⲁⲗ, ‘I am Solomon, your servant’, ³⁴ which could either be what we face above (i.e., stand for ⲁⲛⲅ̄ⲥⲟⲗⲟⲙⲱⲛ), be a slip for ⲁⲛⲟⲕ <ⲡⲉ> ⲥⲟⲗⲟⲙⲱⲛ or, contra Junker, an apposition, viz. ‘I, Solomon, your servant’ as elsewhere in the Berlin manuscript. ³⁵ For the moment, one can only state that the pattern found is unexpected.

• p. 212.24 §51 ⲛ̄ϯⲛⲁⲕⲁ ⲙⲟⲩ ⲛϩⲱⲟⲩ <ⲁⲛ> ⲉⲉⲓ ⲉϫⲙ̄ ⲡⲕⲁϩ: Although rather academic in nature, the position for the negation to be emended might actually have been after ⲙⲟⲩ, viz. ⲛ̄ϯⲛⲁⲕⲁⲙⲟⲩ <ⲁⲛ> ⲛϩⲱⲟⲩ. In this way, the slip of the copyist could be explained as aberratio occuli.

• p. 216.16–17 §56.2 ⲁⲩⲱ ϩⲁⲡⲥ ⲡⲉ ⲉⲧⲣⲕ̄ⲛⲁⲩ ⲉ̄ⲡⲉⲕⲑⲣⲟⲛⲟⲥ ⲙⲛ̄ⲡⲉⲕⲏⲓ: Although the editor’s translation reads more elegantly (‘and you are destined to see your throne and your house’), the reviewer will still consider the deontic reading preferable. ³⁶

• p. 295 commentary on p. 186.27–28 §29.3: The Arabic version of the Apocalypse of St Athanasius shows here ‘This is David the prophet’, as well (p. 432.9).

• p. 318 commentary to p. 192.26 §36.1 ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲡⲁ<ⲓ> ⲉϥϣⲟⲟⲡ: The reason for the missing ⲓ is probably less so that its phonetic environment is between two vowels, but rather just a slip of the copyist, something which occurred in several instances, cf. e.g., p. 194.18 (ⲛⲁ<ⲓ> ⲛⲉ ⲛ̄ϣⲁⲩⲡⲟⲣⲛⲉⲩⲉ).

• p. 327 commentary to §39.3: The scribal error explained by the visual similarity of ⲃ and ⲑ seems unlikely, at least for the hand writing of the copyist of this manuscript as well as of many others.

Finally, the editors are to be congratulated to have presented an edition of this important text in such exemplarily fashion. An important step has been made for the edition of the text that will regard all the transmissions in different languages.