Epiphany and epilepsy: The Epitomator’s approach to history and disease in 2 Maccabees 3.22–28

Abstract

The question of the historicity of the story of Heliodorus’ forced entrance into the temple has long been debated. Some have argued that the story was an example of what could be termed a ‘floating legend’ in Judah. This paper will not present any new argument for the potential historicity of the story, but will rather investigate how the Epitomator of 2 Maccabees (regardless of its historicity) approached his presumed historical sources while crafting his tale. This study will also explore the medical presumptions that underlie the story, namely its approach toward describing the disease of epilepsy. The Epitomator’s adaptation of this traditional material will be examined, in order to ascertain how the Epitomator understood the historical task he undertook and how he utilized the sources available to him.

1. Introduction ¹

The book of 2 Maccabees has often been dismissed historiographically for its fantastic descriptions, despite the fact that the text represents an explicit attempt to write a Hellenistic history. Specifically, the author has attempted to write an epitomized history of what was originally an earlier and longer work by Jason of Cyrene in five volumes now lost to history (for the implications of this for the genre of 2 Maccabees, see Borchardt 2016: 71–87). While there are many stories in the text that invite attention, Heliodorus’ attempt at taking money from the Jerusalem temple bank has drawn much attention for its use of common ancient Near Eastern and Hellenistic topoi. In its description of a divine epiphany, the author (i.e., the Epitomator) of 2 Maccabees employs the motif of a divine horseman and angelic young messengers as the intervention that prevents calamity.

The question of the story’s potential historicity or historical roots has long been a matter of debate. For example, Schäfer (2003) believes that some of the story may be historical, but that, ‘Unfortunately, we do not know precisely how the Temple affair turned out, since the intervention of divine forces, as depicted so dramatically in II Maccabees, is doubtless mere legend’. He concludes however that ‘it does appear to be the case that Heliodorus’ attempted theft from the Temple proved unsuccessful, whatever the real reason for this may have been’. ² On the other hand, some like Jordaan (2016) write that ‘2 Maccabees 3 cannot be seen as historically sound; it is a fabrication with more inaccuracies than accuracies’. ³ Schwartz (2008) summarizes the issues as follows:

Concerning historicity, finally, one cannot say much. True, the basic elements of the story are acceptable: Onias III, Seleucus IV, Hyrcanus the Tobiad, and Heliodorus are all known historical figures; we have good corroborative evidence for Apollonius son of Thraseas (v. 5); and there is other evidence both for Seleucid subventions for the sacrificial cult and for the use of the Temple as a bank. But a heavenly horseman and handsome floggers are another story. ⁴

The story itself appears in an alternative form in the later account of 4 Macc. 4.2–12, where it is Apollonius, not Heliodorus, who attempts to rob the temple. In Dan. 11.20 the story appears to be referred to vaguely, in the note that an ‘official’ will be sent who will be ‘broken, though not in anger or in battle’. And in 3 Macc. 2, a text written about the same time as or between 2 and 4 Maccabees, the basic form of the story is retold in detail, but set far earlier than the Maccabean revolt, and it is the Ptolemaic (not Seleucid) king Philopator IV who himself attempts to enter the temple to take funds. Due to these discrepancies, some have argued that the story was an example of what could be termed a ‘floating legend’ in Judah, existing in various forms for some time, being appropriated in different ways by different writers. ⁵

This paper will not offer any new arguments for the historicity of the story, but will rather investigate how the Epitomator of 2 Maccabees (regardless of its historicity) approached his presumed historical sources while crafting his tale. It will suggest the floating legend, though adaptable and in some cases adjusted to typical motifs and topoi, is unique amongst other examples of this topos. This paper will also explore the medical presumptions that underlie the story, and it will be shown that the character in this floating legend appears to have been presented as one who suffers from epilepsy.

In this study, the Epitomator’s adaptation of this earlier source’s traditional material will be examined, in order to ascertain how the Epitomator understood the historical task he undertook and how he utilized the sources available to him in the process. In short, while determining with certainty the historicity of the actual event may remain out of reach, better comprehending the way in which the Epitomator understood history may remain within reach. Additionally, by shedding light on the epileptic characterization in the two temple stories in 2 and 3 Maccabees, it is hoped that scholars and readers will be made aware of new resources for the study of disability in the Maccabean literature and epilepsy in Early Judaism.

2. A common source?

As pointed out earlier, Schwartz (2008) has argued that the Heliodorus passage is a legend which circulated within Judean culture, thus explaining its repetition in 3 Maccabees. Several distinctive aspects of this argument are important to note. Schwartz points out that the majority of 2 Maccabee’s story about Heliodorus ‘prefers to refer to the Jewish protagonist awkwardly as “the high priest” (vv. 9, 10, 16, 21, 32, 33), avoiding the name “Onias” (which begins to reappear only toward the end, vv. 31, 33, 35) although that name is given by the story’s framework (vv. 1, 5)’. Furthermore, this same material ‘avoids the use of the king’s name (vv. 8, 32, 35, 37) although the context (3:3 and 4:7) makes it clear that the author means Seleucid IV’. ⁶ Schwartz argues that these anomalous details suggest that the story stemmed from a different source which the Epitomator has utilized in his account within 2 Maccabees.

What does this mean for the Epitomator’s use of this source? Schwartz argues that the Epitomator preferred ‘usually, to replace its proper names with titles rather than use other proper names and thus find himself required, time and again, to contradict his source frontally’. ⁷ Given this, Schwartz concludes that the historicity of this story with reference to Heliodorus is suspect, given that the tale stems from an earlier historical account which apparently had a different setting. Adding weight to this argument is the existence of the similar narrative in 3 Macc. 2.21–24. In that story, the mythological symbols of God’s power, a divine horse rider and two young angelic figures, are missing. Instead, one finds a similar but less elaborate narrative in which the foreign official shakes, falls unexpectedly, and later recovers on his own, vowing vengeance against the Jews. Gone is the visible representation of God’s manifestation and so too the intercessory prayer of the High Priest and the subsequent redemption of the heathen ruler. These differences, for Schwartz, support the idea that there was some basic story which was utilized in the construction of both of the accounts in 2 and 3 Maccabees. ⁸

Some scholars such as Tromp (1995) and Hacham (2012), however, have argued that Schwartz argument is flawed, instead proposing that 3 Maccabees simply depends upon the account found in 2 Maccabees (or the same source that the Epitomator used, per Tromp). In short, Hacham argues that ‘Schwartz’s view of … a “floating” legend should be rejected’. ⁹ His argument rests on his own study of the attitudes within 2 and 3 Maccabees toward the sanctity of the Temple. In an extensive paper, he argues that 2 Maccabees understands physical places as holy and perceives God as acting to protect those places, whereas 3 Maccabees understands God as holy, one who acts to save people, not places. ¹⁰ He then draws attention to the shared vocabulary and imagery between the two books in their stories of divine epiphanies. Likewise, Hacham remarks that the fact that Philopator’s failed attempt does not end with repentance and glory for God ‘seems, therefore, strange and remarkable’ and ‘calls for an explanation’. ¹¹ These differences, he argues, reveal that 3 Maccabees had a polemical interest in reacting against 2 Maccabees, and attempting to subvert it. Finally, Hacham argues that 3 Maccabees has taken the epiphany of Heliodorus and stretched the elements of the story across the entire account, explaining the curious absence of divine messengers in the temple episode, and their eventual appearance at the end of the work in the Hippodrome episode.

Citing Tromp’s view that elements from the Heliodorus story were purposefully incorporated into the second part of 3 Maccabees, ¹² Hacham argues that the additional evidence of his study demonstrates ‘that the author of 3 Maccabees was conversant with the Heliodorus story in 2 Maccabees; in fact, he used it by splitting this story between the two parts of 3 Maccabees’. ¹³ Hacham’s argument, as such, is an important contribution to this study. Indeed, according to him, the story of the miracle at the temple originates with 2 Maccabees itself and has no pre-history, evidenced by his conviction that 3 Maccabees only utilized and subverted the former document’s account.

Yet, is Hacham’s conclusion warranted? Does the possibility that 3 Maccabees knew of 2 Maccabees necessitate that it drew upon only this source for the story? Does its potential use of 2 Maccabees negate the evidence of a floating legend? And moreover, does he present enough evidence to warrant the conclusion that 3 Maccabees was literarily dependent on 2 Maccabees? The answer to this latter question is in the negative. While he clearly demonstrates that 3 Maccabees has a different ideology from 2 Maccabees, at no point does he demonstrate how any of the examples of this in 3 Maccabees can be proven to be or shown to have a high probability of being a direct reaction against 2 Maccabees. Likewise, Hacham’s argument that the absence of divine messengers from the temple episode was due to the author distributing the episode of Heliodorus across the work fails to convince.

While it is certainly possible for the author of 3 Maccabees to have stretched the episode, it does not explain the curious absence of divine messengers in the first part of the book. The author of 3 Maccabees does not have any apprehensions about divine epiphanies, employing the motif of a visible divine epiphany at the end of his book. Thus, their absence cannot be argued on the grounds that the author had an ideological objection to such a phenomenon. So then, why do they not appear at the beginning of his work? There is no strong argument for why the author of 3 Maccabees did not simply repeat the divine epiphany twice, rather than moving it, as per Hacham. One cannot say that there was any literary reason for 3 Maccabees removing the divine epiphany from its source material. Moreover, in 2 Maccabees, the Epitomator includes many examples of such epiphanies after the Heliodorus episode (2 Macc. 5.1–4; 10.29–30; 11.8), yet none of the elements of these appear to have had any influence on 3 Maccabees.

The other criticism one might make of Hacham’s proposal is that it appears that he assumes that the divine epiphany presented in 2 Maccabees is unique to the work and the similar inclusion of such in 3 Maccabees is equally unique. However, the motif of divine epiphany, consisting of a defense of a temple, is a common Hellenistic theme. However, perhaps more curious is the employment by 2 Maccabees of the specific Hellenistic motif of divine horses, which is used repeatedly throughout 2 Maccabees. Intriguingly, 3 Maccabees does not in fact include this motif though it features divine angelic figures and other Hellenistic imagery. If it had, as Hacham argues, relied on 2 Maccabees’ account, the absence of horses is an inexplicable change from the original. Indeed, the inclusion of angelic figures at the end of 3 Maccabees does not suggest by itself that it used 2 Maccabees as a direct source, rather than drawing on a shared legend and utilizing other common Hellenistic motifs and topoi of the time, much as 2 Maccabees itself appears to do.

3. Identical accounts and epilepsy

One point that this study wishes to raise is this: only by comparing the two stories for what is different can evidence be found for literary dependence (rather than by seeking what is similar, as per Hacham and Tromp). When one looks for what is different, examining the two stories in light of each other, two major details diverge from the account of Heliodorus: first, in 3 Maccabees the man who attempts to enter the temple is ambiguously shaken by God alone (without a visible divine epiphany) and, second, in 3 Maccabees the figure is unrepentant. While the latter detail can potentially be dismissed based on the narrative requirements of the story, the former is not so easily explained. This discrepancy also happens to be one of the few in the tale that has passed unnoticed in the recent discussions of the sources.

When examining the two stories in 2 and 3 Maccabees, it is possible to argue that there is not actually any discrepancy between the two accounts with regard to the element of shaking in the latter. In the Heliodorus account, the man is charged by a horse and flogged by two angelic figures simultaneously (the text introduces each with their actions separately, but they are logically concurrent within the narrative). Presumably, from the perspective of the crowd watching, any flogging would result in the appearance of shaking as Heliodorus’ body is tossed side to side with each strike. When the text reports that he falls to the ground, it is presumably because he has been struck by the horse’s hoofs. As such, the text outlines an event in which a human being would have been seen by the crowd to have been shaking and then have fallen to the ground. Paralysis is then reported to have followed. There is then, from the perspective of the crowd in 2 Maccabees, no difference from the account described in 3 Maccabees. For there the narrative describes the same thing: a man is shaken before falling down paralysed. This will prove important, especially given the claim by 2 Macc. 3.25 that the crowd could not see the epiphany.

With this striking similarity in view, it is worth noting the widely held view that 3 Macc. 2.21–24 represents an ancient account of epilepsy. ¹⁴ Tromp early on noted that ‘God struck him with some kind of epileptic attack’. ¹⁵ So too Johnson notes that ‘Philopator suffers a seizure’. ¹⁶ Anderson also describes it as ‘a seizure’. ¹⁷ Even Hacham agrees that ‘a violent seizure’ is depicted here. ¹⁸ Alexander summarizes all these views by remarking that:

The affliction that befalls Philopator here reads like a rather precise description of an epileptic seizure. The author would, of course, like most of his contemporaries, have regarded such attacks as evidence of divine displeasure. Both Heliodorus and Antiochus are carried off in litters, in a comparatively dignified fashion. Philopator is ‘dragged’ away. ¹⁹

To our knowledge, there are only three accounts of epilepsy recorded in early Judaism dating from after the Babylonian Exile and prior to the second century of the common era. Two of these accounts are found in the New Testament Gospels of Mark and Matthew, while another stems from an account by Josephus, ²⁰ and thus all three accounts stem from traditions in the first century CE. ²¹ Some have however argued that Paul experienced epilepsy and that this was the ‘thorn in the flesh’ he spoke of. ²² Other accounts of epilepsy exist from outside Judaism in the wider world of Greek literature. It is called ἐπιληψία or ἐπίληψις, literally ‘moon-struck’. It is often called ‘the sacred disease’ (ἱερὰ νόσος) because of the belief that it was caused by the divine realm. Indeed, epilepsy ‘was very frequently singled out as a condition directly attributable to the work of divine forces’. ²³ Famously, around the fifth century BCE, a document entitled On the Sacred Disease (attributed to Hippocrates) argued that it was no more divine than any other disease and argued for a naturalistic interpretation (see symptoms listed in De morb. sacr. 10).

Regardless of this, it is clear that among certain schools of thought, the disease retained its more mystical connection, such as can be intimated in the references to it in the New Testament Gospels where it is associated with demonic possession (cf. Mark 9:17–18). Kelley (2011), summarizing a consensus view, notes that while ‘Mark uses no terms specifically associated with epilepsy … [he] does describe the boy’s condition in terms that are consistent with the epileptic syndrome’. ²⁴ This was clearly perceived by the Gospel of Matthew, which edited Mark to identify the disease explicitly as ‘moonstruck’ (σεληνιάζοµαι), a term reflecting the popular belief that epilepsy ‘is a punishment for those who have offended Selene, the goddess of the moon’. ²⁵

As Collins (2007) also notes, ‘Mark’s attribution of the [epileptic] symptoms of the boy to a spirit is similar to the popular or religious view of the sacred disease described in and rejected by this [Hippocratic] treatise’. ²⁶ Josephus’ description, earlier alluded to and in agreement with Mark, also speaks of a demon that must be exorcised. Collins elaborates:

In the opinion of the author of the treatise, those who first designated the disease as ‘sacred’ were like the people called in his day ‘magicians, purifiers, charlatans and quacks’ (μάγοι τε καὶ καθάρται καὶ ἀγύρται καὶ ἀλαζόνες). Such people speak about ‘the intervention of gods and spirits’ (ἐς τὸ θεῖον ἀϕήκει καὶ τὸ δαιμόνιον) and attribute the withdrawal of afflicted people from public view at the time of a seizure to ‘fear of the divine’ (ϕόβος τοῦ δαιμονίου). Among the symptoms listed are the following: ‘the patient becomes speechless and chokes; froth flows from the mouth; he gnashes his teeth and twists his hands; the eyes roll and intelligence fails’… Kicking out with the feet, and jumping out of bed and running outside are also mentioned. ²⁷

The Hippocratic author of On the Sacred Disease also notes that ‘the patient falls down’, experiencing ‘spasms and anguish’ (De morb. sacr. 10). ²⁸ So then, if 3 Maccabees represents such an account of epilepsy, what about 2 Maccabees? Goldstein alone notes in his commentary that the account of Heliodorus ‘would be compatible with his having suffered an epileptic fit’. ²⁹ This paper wishes to propose that Goldstein (1976) is correct to see the parallel between the two stories and that this recognition may highlight the different portrayal found in 2 Maccabees, as compared to 3 Maccabees.

It is this paper’s contention that the only reason that more scholars of 2 Maccabees have not come to conclusions similar to Goldstein’s is that there are mythological elements in the narrative. Whereas in 3 Maccabees, the absence of such motifs has led scholars to note the similarities between the medical phenomenon and the description of Philopater’s collapse, 2 Maccabees conceals its comparable narrative by including mythological motifs. Given what was earlier pointed out—that the two accounts do not in fact have any differences in the under-lying observed phenomenon—the reasoning that has led scholars of 3 Maccabees to draw parallels with epilepsy should lead scholars of 2 Maccabees to the same conclusion.

Some, such as Schwartz (2008), argue that the Epitomator of 2 Maccabees was aware of this distinction between natural and supernatural elements. He notes that the text states that ‘they saw a horse’ (3.25), and that ‘the careful phrasing leaves open the possibility that only Heliodorus and his men, but no others, saw the horse’. This ‘allows the author, who might worry about rationalistic critics, to evade an unequivocal statement that a miracle occurred’. ³⁰ However, this argument appears weak when compared with the account in 3 Maccabees, which does not demonstrate any similar concerns about rationalistic critics (for example, the divine epiphany in 6.16–23). ³¹ There, the story unfolds without divine emanations, yet remains an act of God. As such, it seems more likely that the account of 2 Maccabees is aware that the floating legend did not originally describe a visible representation of God’s protective act. Instead, it is providing an interpretation of that earlier description, one that is likely best preserved in the less sensational version found in 3 Maccabees.

Epilepsy, as described in Greek narratives, is often found in two forms, one characterized by incapacitation and falling and the other a trance-like madness that leads to the individual’s tragic demise. It was common for the Greeks to interpret epilepsy as a disease brought on evildoers by the wrath of the gods, a theme that both matches and/or parallels the topos of temple protection that Doran (1981) noted. For example, Herodotus had speculated that the Persian leader Cambyses II may potentially have suffered from epilepsy as a punishment for his blasphemies against the god Apis and disruption of the temple festivities. ³² Although a form of Greek propaganda against the Persians, it demonstrates how epilepsy and the temple could be connected with the theme of a god punishing a blasphemer.

Additionally, a passage from On the Sacred Disease has a Hippocratic doctor criticize those who try to cure epilepsy with incantations and potions:

But they should do the opposite for the persons with this disease. They should pray for them and make sacrifice and carry them into the temple as supplicants to the gods. … [I]f a god is in fact the cause, they should take them [the patients] to the temple and present them to the god (De morb. sacr. 4).

The method of temple healing was often ‘a rather mundane experience’ and involved the patient sleeping and awaking cured. ³³ There are also references to those with epilepsy coming to temples to be healed. Take for example the report of Rufus of Ephesus, reported in the medical book of Oribasius from the fourth century CE.

How it happened to Teucer, the Cyzicenean [ca. 100 CE], is worth telling: when he was afflicted with epilepsy he came to Pergamum to Asclepius, asking for liberation from the disease. The god appearing to him holds converse with him and asks if he wants to exchange his present disease against another one. And he said he surely did not want that but would rather get some immediate relief from the evil. But if at all, he wished that the future might not be worse than the present. When the god had said it would be easier and this would cure him more plainly than anything else, he consents [sc., Teucer] to the disease, and a quartan fever attacks him, and thereafter he is free from epilepsy. ³⁴

So it may well be that the addition of Onias praying for Heliodorus’ healing is an application of this same Hippocratic critique, presenting Israel’s God as the one who causes the seizure and can cure it. Unlike the Hippocratic author who argues that ‘you will understand quite clearly that it is not a god afflicting the body’ (De morb. sacr. 14), the Epitomator of 2 Maccabees wants to underscore that it most definitely is. And more specifically, it is Israel’s God, not one of the gods that Heliodorus worships.

The combination of these factor leads to two plausible conclusions: contrary to Hacham’s proposal, the story in 3 Maccabees does not appear to be drawn from 2 Maccabees directly, and the similarity between the two stories with regard to the described phenomenon points to a shared source that underlies both accounts, notable for its more naturalistic or epileptic-esque details. As such, it appears to this author that Hacham’s proposal of literary dependence is not as strong as Schwartz’s proposal of a floating legend.

4. A common topos?

Doran (1981) has argued in his monograph Temple Propaganda that the Heliodorus story should be understood in the light of Hellenistic and Ancient Near Eastern topoi of gods defending their temples from pillaging kings. ‘A general shared pattern’ is observed, one ‘grounded no doubt in the way real life battles occur’. In this pattern or topos, ‘the attackers approach, the defenders ask help of the deity, the deity responds, the attackers are repulsed, and the defenders rejoice’. ³⁵ He says that the story featured in 2 Maccabees ‘is strongly biased towards propaganda to proclaim the greatness of the God of Israel, who protects the temple at Jerusalem’. ³⁶

The story as it stands has all the earmarks of accounts written in praise of a deity who defends his/her temple or city. I hesitate to call these battle accounts examples of the same literary form, because the ways in which the deities defend their temples are so various that no tight, recurring order of content emerges. . . . The story of Heliodorus, then, should be ranged alongside such accounts where the topos, a deity defending his/her city or temple, is found. ³⁷

Bremmer (2008) also notes a large number of examples of Hellenistic narratives involving divine epiphanies, remarking that this ‘firmly dates our author [of 2 Maccabees] to the Hellenistic period’. ³⁸ Weitzman (2004) and Mendels (1981) also see Babylonian topoi as the background for such descriptions, ³⁹ with Weitzman noting that ‘the sacrilegious king who robs temples and interferes in tradition—the opposite of what a good king was supposed to do—was a stereotypical role imposed literarily on kings by those who would supplant them’. ⁴⁰

Is the similarity in the accounts of 2 and 3 Maccabees merely the result of repeating this familiar topos? Croy (2006) believes so, writing that the story in 3 Maccabees is ‘a literary type-scene of divine retribution for acts of arrogance’. ⁴¹ While it is true that a king taking money from a temple, and likewise such a person being thwarted at the temple during the act, were common motifs, the image of angelic flogging or divine shaking are rather unique details that stand out amongst otherwise repeated elements of these topoi. None of the examples Doran and others provide appear to include the motif of a man falling and shaking. Is this detail a unique representation of divine power or is it something more realistic? The story of Heliodorus appears to represent a far more elaborate account, whereas 3 Maccabees appears to more closely resemble a real and observable medical phenomenon.

For confirmation of this view, one can examine the latest form and adaptation of the story as found in 4 Macc. 4.2–12. In that retelling, Apollonius (not Heliodorus), is said to fall ‘half-dead’. However, this is clearly not a seizure, for he raises his arms toward the sky and begs for his life to be spared by the all-powerful deity protecting the temple. In this vision too, there are two horses ridden by two angelic figures. They do not flog the man but throw lightning bolts in his direction, which merely frightens him and his men. This account lacks any reference to the man’s shaking nor does it contain the idea that the man had to be dragged away. Instead, he is fully conscious and beseeches grace from the deity. This version of the story corresponds more closely to the supernatural evolution seen in the account of Heliodorus in 2 Maccabees and seems far from the more subdued account in 3 Maccabees.

Given that it is the last of the datable versions of this story and has already been influenced by the traditions in 2 Maccabees (though it is not beholden to them), the question is: is it more likely that 4 Maccabees represents the earlier version of the story, in which the topos is represented in its purest form with the absence of shaking and paralyzation? Or alternatively, should we take it that 3 Maccabees represents the earliest form of the story, with the shaking and paralyzation having been removed by the time of the composition of 4 Maccabees? This paper argues for the latter, as it seems less plausible for a writer to downgrade the divine elements to a mere shaking, than to add divine elements like lightning bolts and heavenly horses to explain the shaking.

Likewise, with regard to Hacham’s proposal, one must wonder whether the significant differences in the two accounts reflect polemical and rhetorical aspects of 3 Maccabees. Is it more likely that 3 Maccabees changed the angelic flogging of Heliodorus to a mere seizure directed by God, rather than the Epitomator of 2 Maccabees providing a visual explanation for what others could not see in the source he used? It seems more plausible to conclude that Heliodorus’ ‘flogging’ is a later explanation added to an earlier less sensational account. This means that 3 Maccabees’ choice not to repeat those details in 2 Maccabees, if it knew the book, reflects not polemical purposes but likely its knowledge of the same or a similar source that 2 Maccabees itself drew upon.

In other words, the belief of some that there is a connection between the two accounts of 2 and 3 Maccabees appears correct. It is unusual that both share the same unique description of Israel’s God defending its temple through an epileptic-esque seizure. Yet, this similarity is not because one copied the other but is due to mutual dependence or similar duplication of a previous legend predating them both.

5. The Epitomator’s approach to history

What is problematic with Schwartz’ analysis is his assumption that if the source which the Epitomator utilized had different historical details from those within 2 Maccabees, it must indicate that it was a ‘legend’, untethered from history. In truth, all that his analysis demonstrates is that the version of the story in 2 Maccabees is historically suspect because the Epitomator ‘borrowed the story from elsewhere in his quest for an introduction that would flesh out the idyllic status quo against which his real story should be read’. ⁴² This, however, does not require that the details the Epitomator changed are also historically suspect. The Epitomator’s ability to change them may point to a story which was not cemented in the historical consciousness of Judah, or it may simply be that the Epitomator duplicated the story (rather than sought to correct it).

The Epitomator may have assumed that his audience would be aware of the earlier version but was open to accepting the idea that God acted numerous times in history to protect the temple and would do so in similar ways. This was presumably the later understanding of many Jews who would come to have a copy of the Septuagint which included both 2 and 3 Maccabees together and it was certainly the view of Christians in the early centuries of the common era. Why couldn’t the same story happen twice if it was the same God behind it both times? If one had a cyclical view of history, one could have naturally expected their god to act similarly any time a similar incident occurred, and so the Epitomator’s reuse of an earlier story does not suggest or necessitate a rejection of the original as unhistorical. In short, whether or not 2 Maccabees is historically sound, its earlier source is not necessarily any more or less reliable as a result. As Schwartz (2008) himself admits, ‘even a religious author may tell the historical truth, even if he or she packages it in religious interpretation and decorates it with religious motifs’. ⁴³

What then was this earlier source? It is unlikely to be that of Jason of Cyrene and his five volumes for, as Schwartz notes, the later parts of 2 Maccabees’ epitomization of that account appear to depict Heliodorus in a way that seemingly ignores the episode at the temple and his redemption. The fact that the Epitomator had to change the names to generic titles also indicates that the story was not originally tied to Heliodorus. As such, we have no way of knowing whether the original legend was based on an actual historical memory of an epileptic seizure or whether a description of ‘the sacred disease’ was utilized in a fictional legend to describe the way Israel’s God would defend its temple. ⁴⁴

Schwartz points out that recent archaeological discoveries have pointed to the idea that Heliodorus may have been connected in some direct or loose way with collecting temple funds in the area of Palestine. ⁴⁵ This may then suggest why the Epitomator chose to duplicate the story. Based on whatever sources he had, he presumed that Heliodorus came to the temple just as the character in his floating legend, whoever it was, had done. He then duplicated the story on the assumption that the God of Israel must have or would have acted similarly during the period of the Maccabean revolt. This would indicate that the Epitomator had no actual knowledge of the events during that time and was instead creatively imagining what happened based on presuppositions.

This demonstrates that the Epitomator’s approach to history is selective and polemical. Although the Epitomator may have known of some temple-related activity, his use of this source to illustrate and flesh out the details suggests either that he intentionally wrote fiction in order to make a polemical point or that he assumed that if the earlier legend he used as a source was true in its description of God, God would act the same way twice when faced with the same situation. ⁴⁶ If the latter is the case, it demonstrates that the Epitomator is a ‘historian’ who writes what he believes history must have been, rather than what he could through documentation know it had been. History is seen as cyclical and repetitive. If one knows the author of history (God), there is no need for strong critical historiographical method to be employed, since the unknown can be predicted by the expected.

While the choice to attribute the event to God’s supernatural power is likely not original to the Epitomator, the choice to interpret how God affected this remained the Epitomator’s own. ⁴⁷ In short, the Epitomator has provided surprisingly logical and visual explanations for the divine behavior. Instead of merely stating that God shook Heliodorus, he has interpreted his tremors to be in reaction to two angelic figures that flog him from either side. Instead of stating that he simply fell down, he has a heavenly rider knock him down. In both of these cases, the Epitomator provides a ‘visual’ explanation for the harm which the foreign ruler experienced. He presumes that there is an invisible reality behind what a crowd may physically see. The Epitomator has also chosen specific imagery, not only because it explains the original supernatural event, but because the imagery works best for his Hellenistic audience’s reception.

He has changed the account in several important ways: inserting a dramatic prayer by the High Priest, making his recovery supernatural (narrated by angelic figures), and attributing to him a recognition of God’s supremacy (assuming that in the original source he cursed God). ⁴⁸ These changes reveal the polemical interest that the Epitomator has in shaping his history. The Epitomator changed and altered his sources based on theological beliefs and/or other intentions. He was not dispassionately interested in history for its own sake and at times chose to alter that history, either depending on what he must have assumed about the events or based on his polemical aim to instruct and uplift his audience.

6. Conclusion

In conclusion, this paper has argued that the similarity in the outlines of the temple episodes in 2 and 3 Maccabees is due to them both relying on an earlier source, one which described the same phenomenon (regardless of metaphysical characterization). This provides strong support for Schwartz’ argument for a floating legend, contrary to Hacham’s counterproposal. However, contrary to Schwartz, it has been argued that the underlying phenomenon unique to both accounts (and the original legend) is reflective of an epileptic attack which was employed to fill out the topos of Israel’s deity defending its temple. As Goldstein argues, “ancient observers would have regarded the event as a divine intervention because of the timing of the attack and because all epileptic fits were commonly viewed as supernatural interventions by demons or deities.” ⁴⁹

In this particular case, an epileptic seizure appears to best fit the scenario depicted by both passages, providing the circumstances for the later elaborations describing it either as God who directly shook the man (3 Macc. 2.21–22) or as a divine theophany in which two invisible young men shook the man and a horse kicking him was the reason for his fall (2 Macc. 3.25–27). The fact that the latter view also matches Hellenistic portrayals merely underscores the ingenuity of the Epitomator of 2 Maccabees, who could both appeal to his readers’ sensibilities as well as attempt to explain what had heretofore been generically described. The similarity of the two accounts in their depiction of epilepsy, without either author intending a purely naturalistic interpretation, suggests that whatever source 3 Maccabees drew upon was likely closer to the original legend than that of 2 Maccabees, and as such, gives us better insight into the underlying sources that the Epitomator used and why he did what he did with them in the course of his own work.

Moreover, by recognizing that this earlier source described a case of epilepsy as an act of God to punish someone who would defile his temple, and seeing how both 2 and 3 Maccabees attempted to relay this story and describe the circumstances of the epileptic attack, new insights can be gathered regarding how epilepsy was understood by some in early Judaism. Contrary to the apparently monolithic portrayal of the Synoptic Gospels and Josephus, who all appear to link epilepsy in the first century with demonic possession, 2 and 3 Maccabees appear to retain the classical Greek interpretation that it was an act of divine punishment. Likewise, the descriptions of Israel’s God himself shaking a man or of angelic horses and persons kicking and flogging the person with epilepsy potentially provide avenues to be explored regarding how early Jewish writers interpreted the experiences of other people with epilepsy in their own communities. ⁵⁰ These are important questions that have consequences not only for our understanding of the history of Judaism, but also for contemporary readers of these scriptures today.