John Finnis and the Early Dating of Barnabas

There is a consensus in all but name that the Epistle of Barnabas, a letter attributed to the missionary companion of Paul in Acts, is a pseudepigraphic writing composed sometime between the Siege of Jerusalem (70 C. E.) and the Bar Kokhba Revolt (132-36 C. E.). This is owed to an unambiguous reference to the temple falling and rumours of it being rebuilt (16.3-5), sentiments that fit the period of time postdating the Siege and predating Bar Kokhba's insurrection. This is also supported by an earlier verse speaking about ten kings of the earth followed by an eleventh ruler who brings three others under his heel (4.4), a prophecy modelled after that seen in Daniel (Dan. 7:24) and clearly referencing Roman emperors following the revolt. These arguments have been affirmed as essentially watertight for nearly two centuries now, with little challenge offered to repudiate them.

Recent challenge has arrived, however, in some recent work by political philosopher John Finnis of University College, Oxford. Despite not being a biblical scholar, Finnis offers insights in his new article "Redating Barnabas" in the Journal of Theological Studies. Going against nearly two centuries of scholarship on the matter, Finnis suggests that the mainstream position fails to consider whether these passages would make equal sense in a milieu prior to 70 C. E. and that the entire argument of Barnabas chapter 16 makes better sense in a setting of criticism against the legitimacy of the temple. He argues that the "ruler" is rather in reference to Agrippa I, that its argumentation is very similar to that of Stephen's speech in Acts 8. These strands of evidence lead him to suspect that Barnabas is to be redated to the 40s C. E., a radical new dating that is likely to incite controversy.

Finnis first contests which temple the prophecy in Barnabas 16 refers to: the first or second? And why, moreover, does the prophecy necessarily have to refer to only one and not both? His analysis of chapter 16 (pp. 82-85) presents the argument of Barnabas as one that sees the construction of the first temple as misconceived from its inception, having been built by "unhappy" and "misguided" men who put their trust in a building rather than God (16:1). They ignored God's invalidation of this temple as conveyed through the words of Isaiah (16:2) and, following its decimation, the rebuilding process would then be performed by the enemies of Israel (16:3-4). Barnabas then goes on to say that there is a "spiritual temple" to be built within the faithful (16:7-10)—the crux of his Jewish-Christian theology. Finnis sees this latter argument from Barnabas as a criticism of a temple still standing rather than the consensus position of establishing a new temple within the hearts of believers following the temple's fall.

He then presents counterarguments to the reference to "the last days" being a reference to Titus' destruction of the temple as opposed to Nebuchadnezzar's several centuries prior. He first points out that the allusion to the dream vision in 1 Enoch 89 is undoubtedly referring to the destruction of the first temple. The allegorical imagery of the "sheep" (89:13-76) and the "tower" (89:50-56) presents an unambiguous reference to the fall of the first temple and its eventual reconstruction (89:72-73). This in mind, the Maccabean context of 1 Enoch's author may have been considered as the "latest days" by Barnabas' author, not the Jewish Revolt (p. 86). Barnabas' dependence on 1 Enoch, therefore, suggests that the "last days" envisioned by the author are in reference to the end of a specific era of Jewish history (p. 87). 

Barnabas, however, fails to endorse the same message found in the Enochian prophecy where contrast is drawn between the first and second temple. The author of Enoch favoured the first temple over the second, believing the latter's sacrifices to be polluted and impure from the outset (89:73-74). The prophecy in Barnabas therefore functions to discredit the second temple in such a way that might instead refer to Herod the Great's continuing rebuilding efforts which supposedly took place around or up until 40 C. E. Barnabas' present tense reference to the reconstruction taking place at the hands of "servants of their enemies" (16:4) fits well with Herod's appointment by Rome as a client king (pp. 88-89). Finnis contends that reference to these events leading up to 40 C. E. make more sense than an imagined reconstruction under the successive emperors leading up to the events of the 130s. The language employed by Barnabas is instead an "eschatological projection" of the rise and fall of the temple (p. 90).

After observing that Barnabas' concern with original divine demonstration of the futility of the temple sits at the heart of the text's argument, and therefore cannot be severed from its main argument (pp. 91-94), Finnis goes on to argue that Barnabas represents a very early Pauline doctrine. Accepting that Barnabas shows no knowledge of Paul's letters (p. 94), Barnabas assumes to some extent that the law was sufficient (Barnabas 3.6; contra Romans 9:11) and the clumsy exegetical accompaniments of Barnabas are absent from Paul (p. 96). This, along with other observations, suggest to Finnis that Barnabas had a substantially different explanation of salvation history, but still retains semblances of Pauline practical instructions and that switching the traditional chronological order between the two explains these mysterious convergences.

Finnis also compares of suggestive elements of the letter to Barnabas' role in the narrative of Acts, including elements of exhortation (Acts 11:23 / Barnabas 1.1-4) , which demonstrate that it has a pressing concern for encouraging its recipients to persevere  and endure, similar to the picutre painted of Barnabas in Acts (9:27). This, Finnis argues, matches the situation of Acts 11 with the founding of the Antiochian church (pp. 99-103). Given this allegedly Antiochian audience, Finnis lays out his own proposal for who he thinks Barnabas believes the 11 rulers of Daniel are: the ten horns, and the little horn; he subsequently suggests Pompey as the initiator of the Roman Imperium in the East, the one who subjugated Jerusalem and Antioch as the first "king." From here he lists Caesar, Mark Anthony, King Herod, Augustus, Herod Archelaus, Herod Philip II,  Herod Antipas, Tiberius, Caligula, Herod Agrippa as the 11 "rulers" that Barnabas is alluding to, proposing two levels of kingship (client and imperial) in Palestine (pp. 103-08). He suggests that Barnabas, was witnessing Caligula's attempt to erect his own statue in the temple (c. 39-41 C. E.). He affirms that nothing in Barnabas suggests that the temple is in danger or is the occasion for an imminent war. Finnis thus suggests a date of 37 C. E., a date so early that it explains the echoes between itself and Stephen's speech in Acts (Acts 7:49-50 / Barnabas 16.2).

Finnis does well to be careful with his treatment of Acts, always ensuring that the Lukan material he works with in attempting to place Barnabas at an early date are identifiable early traditions including that of Stephen's speech ("the name of the Lord" in Acts 2:38, 9:27-28 / Barnabas 1.6; 16.9; themes of repentance, hope, and life in Acts 11:1, 8 / Barnabas 1.1, 16.8; "signs and wonders" in Acts 2-15 / Barnabas 5.8) (pp. 110-12). From here, Finnis argues in favour of Barnabas' authorship, criticising Robert Funk and Bart Ehrman for their treatment of the topic by not considering the coherence between Barnabas and Stephen in Acts and that the supposed "anti-Judaism" in the text is exaggerated. Such an attitude towards Judaism, he argues can be explained by Barnabas' characteristic zeal for his new faith (pp. 113-14). 

Such a radical thesis—one that argues for Barnabas' authorship as well as a remarkably early date—is open to attack from many sides. Finnis, for instance, seems to uncritically accept the dates argued for other New Testament writings by John A. T. Robinson, particularly the controversial date for John he famously assigned. Against my respect for Robinson as a brilliant scholar, Finnis' claim that the convergences between Barnabas and John in regards to their "primitive" (p. 98) form, goes far beyond the capabilities of the evidence. Additionally, despite Finnis' caution for using Acts as a comparative source, there are many elements that Finnis assumes about Acts particularly it's portrayal of Barnabas as accurate as well as Luke's general precision in recalling details about the early church. Such presuppositions underline the importance of starting with Acts as a focal point for reconstructing early Christian history, whether one accepts it's reliability or not. Overall, this article will jolt some scholars from their historiographical slumber, but I doubt it will rattle the cages of the discipline any time soon.