Christian Apocrypha

St Andrews Encyclopaedia of Theology

Christian Apocrypha

Tobias Nicklas

First published: 1 June 2023

https://www.saet.ac.uk/Christianity/ChristianApocrypha

Citation

Nicklas, Tobias. 2023. 'Christian Apocrypha', St Andrews Encyclopaedia of Theology.

Edited by Brendan N. Wolfe et al. https://www.saet.ac.uk/Christianity/ChristianApocrypha

Accessed: 6 September 2024

ISSN 2753-3492

Christian Apocrypha

Tobias Nicklas

The article offers an overall introduction to Christian apocrypha. After a discussion of

several terminological problems, it provides criteria for a definition of apocryphal literature

and related traditions. After that, it discusses aspects of the question of why it may be

meaningful to study Christian apocrypha. The article closes with an overview of the fields

of the reception of apocrypha until today.

Keywords: Apocryphal texts, Bible, Canon, Heretical texts, Orthodox, Traditions,

Translation, Pseudepigrapha

Table of contents

1 Introduction

2 Terminological problems

2.1 New Testament apocrypha and New Testament genres?

2.2 The term ‘apocryphal’ and its different meanings

2.3 Towards a definition of ‘Christian apocrypha’

2.4 Problems with the term ‘Christian’

2.4.1 Who is properly ‘Christian’ and who is not?

2.4.2 Jews and Christians? Christian apocrypha and Old Testament

pseudepigrapha

2.5 Results of the above approach: beyond historical and geographical limits

3 Examples of texts and their function

3.1 Apocrypha and Christian practice

3.2 Christian apocrypha and Jesus traditions

3.3 Apocrypha and the construction of the origins of Christianity

3.4 Apocrypha and Christian ideas of space and time

4 Receptions of Christian apocrypha

1 Introduction

In very simplified terms, ‘Christian apocrypha’ (sometimes also called New Testament

apocrypha) refers to writings that are not part of the biblical canon of the Old and New

Testaments but which show a clear literary relation to biblical – especially New Testament

– writings. Many of these writings represent genres related to those found in the New

Testament. That is, we know of several dozen gospels or gospel-like writings, five early

apocryphal Acts of the Apostles (plus many more in later periods), several apocryphal

Apostolic Letters, and dozens of ancient apocalypses (plus many more in later times).

Besides these, there are other writings which do not relate to New Testament genres, like

the literature around the Dormition of Mary, lists of apostles, Lives of Mary or traditions

about the Magi mentioned in Matthew 2. These can still be called Christian apocrypha

because they deal with figures, stories, and motifs related to the New Testament.

Until the second half of the twentieth century (especially its final decades) most Christian

apocrypha were, on the whole, considered to be of secondary importance for the

understanding of Christianity. This has changed a lot during recent decades. While most

Christian apocrypha are not reliable sources regarding the historical Jesus or the apostolic

period, they help scholars understand how later generations of Christians perceived and

rewrote the stories about the origins of the Christian movement. When scholars deal

with Christian apocrypha, they can learn about the varieties of ancient Christianities,

ancient Christian groups’ struggles for power, their pieties and ‘lived religion’, and their

construction(s) of Christian identities. In other words, reading Christian apocrypha enriches

our understanding of ancient Christianity enormously, as well as our understanding of

subsequent Christianity. This article will deal with terminological problems (genres of

apocrypha, different meanings of the terms ‘apocrypha’ and ‘Christian’, etc.) and then offer

examples of texts and their function.

2 Terminological problems

2.1 New Testament apocrypha and New Testament genres?

Following the pattern of the New Testament canon, many modern collections of Christian

apocrypha distinguish between apocryphal gospels (or gospel-like writings), Acts of the

Apostles, epistles, and apocalypses. This may make sense for pragmatic reasons, but

risks creating prejudice against the apocryphal writings. The idea that they are ‘New

Testament apocrypha’ has repeatedly led to the apocrypha being interpreted only or

mainly in comparison to New Testament parallels. At the same time, the fact that they

have not become part of the canon often meant that they were regarded as unsuccessful,

irrelevant and inferior to the New Testament writings. All this makes an unprejudiced study

of these writings no longer possible. A closer look, however, shows that by no means all

apocrypha simply tried to copy the writings which came to be part of the New Testament,

or to fill the narrative gaps in those writings. Many apocryphal gospels, for example, are

formally very different from what we find in the New Testament: the apocryphal Gospel of

Thomas, probably a second century text, which is fully extant in Coptic only, shows itself

to be a collection of 114 sayings of Jesus without narrative connection. The same applies

to other texts such as the so-called Protevangelium of James, a writing probably from the

late second century. It is often understood as a gospel about the childhood of Jesus, but

is primarily interested in the prehistory of the birth of Jesus and especially the figure of

Mary. The ancient self-designation of this writing as Birth of Mary is therefore much more

appropriate than the more well-known title Protevangelium of James.

The case of apocalyptic literature is even more problematic. The New Testament book

Apocalypse of John (also known as the book of Revelation), from which the term

‘apocalypse’ was coined for the genre, is certainly not representative of the broad genre of

apocalyptic writings. Apocalypses in the form of ‘otherworldly journeys’ – tours of Heaven

and Hell, for example – are not represented in the New Testament, but many of them are

found among the apocrypha. Ancient and medieval accounts of otherworldly journeys,

however, are not merely marginal phenomena. Although they were apparently nowhere

recognized as part of the New Testament, they were nevertheless very successful:

the number of manuscripts, textual forms, and translations in which, for example, the

late antique Apocalypse of Paul (a text including extensive descriptions of otherworldly

places) has survived is hardly inconsiderable (Jirouškova 2006: 37–149). Above all,

however, the Visio Pauli has probably influenced ideas of hell and the hereafter (at least

in the Latin West) more than the Apocalypse of John, which nowhere speaks of a hell

in the narrow sense of the word. Finally, too rigid an orientation towards New Testament

writings means overlooking texts that do not represent any genre recognizable in the New

Testament: while the New Testament book of Acts is not interested in the martyrdoms of

its protagonists Peter and Paul, martyrdoms are the focus of many apocryphal apostle

stories. Other writings representing genres which not found in the New Testament are texts

like the Dormition of Mary, lists of the apostles and their professions, cycles of writings

revolving around the magi mentioned in Matt 2:1–12, and many more. Observations like

these make a precise definition of the term ‘New Testament’ or ‘Christian apocrypha’

difficult.

2.2 The term ‘apocryphal’ and its different meanings

But this is not the only problem. The term ‘apocrypha’/‘apocryphal’ itself is also highly

problematic, since, depending on one’s perspective, different fields of association are

related to it: the word itself (Greek: ἀπόκρυφος) means first of all ‘hidden, concealed’, but

also ‘secret’. In ancient non-Christian literature it could denote books that signified secret

wisdom not accessible to everybody. 4 Ezra, for example, an early Jewish apocalypse

from the end of the first century CE, differentiated between writings that were generally

accessible and those that contained secret revelations (4 Ezra 14:45–47). In Christian

literature, a double usage of language developed many early church authors, such as

Irenaeus of Lyons, Clement of Alexandria, Tertullian and others, related ‘apocryphal’

writings to groups they understood as ‘heretical’, i.e. not orthodox. Later ecclesiastical

authorities and councils developed lists of apocryphal writings (see, for example, the

Decretum Gelasianum or the Stichometry of Nicephorus) which were not allowed to be

read (for a detailed overview see Markschies and Schröter 2012: 115–180). In other

words, in many cases where the term ‘apocryphal’ was applied in an etic manner – i.e.

‘from an outside perspective’ – it was used in a derogatory way and led to a condemnation

of the respective text.

When speaking of ‘apocrypha’ today, it is necessary to exclude as far as possible these

negative connotations. In order to clarify this conceptually, Dieter Lührmann has made the

helpful suggestion to speak not simply of ‘apocryphal texts’ but of writings ‘that came to

be apocryphal’ (Lührmann 2004: 1–54). This rightly expresses the fact that in many cases

the attribute ‘apocryphal’ has nothing to do with the original function and intention of a

text, but was only attached to it in the course of its history of transmission. But it should

not be overlooked that there is also a second, emic (taking an inside perspective) way

of using the term in Christian literature: at least some texts do understand themselves

as apocryphal in the sense of ‘secret’ (Nicklas 2011a). They thus want to signal that

they contain secret knowledge that is not accessible to all people. Writings that call

themselves apocryphal in this way address an audience that sees, or wants to see, itself

as elite because of such superior knowledge. The aforementioned Gospel of Thomas

could be counted among these texts, since it describes itself as ‘the hidden words’ (λόγοι

ἀπόκρυφοι: Logoi apokryphoi) spoken by the living Jesus. In addition to texts that ‘came to

be apocryphal’, it is therefore also meaningful to speak of texts ‘conceived as apocryphal’.

It is important to note that the word ‘apocryphal’ has different connotations in both cases.

In the first case, it stands for writings which at a certain point in time, from the point of

view of representatives of so-called ‘orthodoxy’ or the developing majority church, were

described as ‘apocryphal’ in the sense of being heretical and not orthodox; and whose

reading, or use in liturgy or theological debates, was not permitted. In the second case,

it stands for writings that contained secret knowledge accessible only to a certain group.

The problem is magnified again when we consider that today we only have the statements

of individual early church authors – these, however, do not always represent what other

people thought. For example, the Acts of Paul and Thecla, a late second-century apostle

story concentrating on Paul and his female follower Thecla, are usually considered

‘apocryphal’ because of the opinion of the North African author Tertullian. Tertullian, in

his On Baptism 17.5, condemned the book as a fabrication by an Asian presbyter and

criticized the way that the example of Thecla in this text seemed to authorize women to

teach and to baptize (see Pervo 2014: 43). Tertullian thus concretely referred to the Acts

of Paul and Thecla, a part of the larger Acts of Paul. Even though this text was hardly

anywhere regarded as part of the New Testament at the time, Tertullian’s statement did not

detract from the book’s circulation or use. Its protagonist, the figure Thecla, was at times

so successful in late antiquity and the Middle Ages that she can be considered, along with

the Virgin Mary, the most revered female figure in ancient Christianity (Davis 2001 and

Barrier et al. 2017).

2.3 Towards a definition of ‘Christian apocrypha’

Despite all its difficulties, the term ‘apocrypha’ continues to be used today – primarily for

the simple reason that it is so widely used as to be impossible to excise from scholarly

discussion. However, the term should be applied as neutrally as possible to writings which,

on the one hand, are not part of the biblical canon but, on the other hand, are in some

way closely related to at least parts of the canon. The criterion ‘extracanonical’ is thus

necessary, but not sufficient. This is because commentaries on the New Testament, titles

of the gospels, homilies, liturgical manuals, church orders, etc., are also not canonical,

but neither are they considered apocrypha. The decisive problem of today’s definitions of

the term ‘apocrypha’ is to describe the second, then sufficient criterion in an appropriate

way (for a history of those definitions see Markschies and Schröter 2012: 90–114). If

we do not want to fall into the trap of formulating a definition from the genres of the New

Testament alone, it becomes difficult to use appropriate categories. Perhaps that is why

a concrete definition in the sense of a demarcation is not possible. Instead, an attempt at

an approximation of the term ‘apocrypha’ should be ventured: in such an approximation

it is not a question of describing what apocrypha ‘are’, but of saying which texts can be

meaningfully regarded as ‘apocryphal’. A possible way forward may then be to speak

about Christian apocrypha as writings participating in the narrated (and imagined) world

of what we understand as the Christian Bible today. That is, Christian apocrypha renarrate

and further develop (not only) New Testament stories and/or deal with figures, themes, and

motifs related to the Christian Bible.

Such an approach to the concept of Christian apocrypha is therefore not intended as a

definition that draws boundaries but as a way of deciding when it is meaningful to speak of

Christian apocrypha. The literary world of apocrypha is thus understood as a still growing,

changing literary ‘universe’ that revolves around what we today call the Christian Bible.

This, of course, does not mean that apocrypha cannot also be attracted by other literary

worlds. It is clear that such a concept of apocrypha is ‘etic’, and attempts to evaluate the

idea in purely literary terms. Aspects of critical historical classification, and questioning of

the corresponding texts, are by no means excluded.

2.4 Problems with the term ‘Christian’

2.4.1 Who is properly ‘Christian’ and who is not?

Even if the designation ‘Christian apocrypha’ reduces the impression that apocryphal

texts are only unsuccessful imitations of those writings that ultimately became part of

the New Testament canon, this does not mean that all problems are thereby solved.

There are also problems with the term ‘Christian’. While Jews and Christians may be

considered fairly distinct faith communities today, this has not always been the case (see

Desreumaux 2014). ‘Christian’, as a designation apparently initially applied ‘from outside’

to the movement of Jesus’ followers (cf. especially Acts 11:26; 26:28 and 1 Pet 4:16),

is not found in most early apocryphal writings. Of course, it is not forbidden to use this

category etically, i.e. from an external perspective, and for modern people to refer to these

texts as ‘Christian’. However, such an approach poses problems on several levels. First

of all, it must be considered that today we associate the term ‘Christian’ with a more or

less stable belief system, which in turn is supported by groups that often call themselves

‘churches’. These groups in turn define, in different ways, what may be understood as

‘Christian’ and what may not. The term ‘Christian’ is thus not simply ‘innocent’ but is a

category which, depending on who uses it, can set very different boundaries to the outside

world. Depending on their perspective, different groups or representatives of these groups

define who is appropriately ‘Christian’ and who is not. Therefore, the various constructions

of Christian (or even ‘truly Christian’) identity are not conceivable without discourses of

power, some of which are highly problematic.

This may sound methodologically overcautious, but it is not. The problems arise when

looking at concrete texts: for example, at what point should writings from the so-called Nag

Hammadi library (a collection of Coptic writings found in close relation to a late antique

monastic settlement in Upper Egypt) be considered ‘Christian apocrypha’? From the

perspective of an ‘orthodox’ majority church, many of the groups behind these texts were

labelled ‘Gnostic’ (for the problems of this term see e.g. King 2003) and understood as

‘heretical’. The question of whether this is justified is not easy to answer: many of the

writings from Nag Hammadi were certainly written by people who saw themselves as

followers of Christ, but in a way that differed so much from the emerging mainstream

church that they were understood as ‘heretics’. At the same time, however, we cannot say

whether the group behind a text such as the Gospel of Judas would have felt adequately

described by the attribute ‘Christian’. After all, the Gospel of Judas draws a sharp line of

demarcation around all forms of apostolic Christianity that are committed to the God of the

Old Testament and the traditions of Israel (Desreumaux 2014: 40–43). Today’s collections

of apocryphal literature must be aware that, if the word ‘Christian’ is a decisive criterion

in the selection of texts, we are in danger of introducing categories that are indebted

to perspectives of those who prevailed in the course of history, and thus excluding the

perspectives of the ‘losers’ of history.

2.4.2 Jews and Christians? Christian apocrypha and Old Testament

pseudepigrapha

In addition, many ancient Christian writings never use the term ‘Christian’ to describe

the identity of its addressees. Thus it always makes sense to look at emic categories,

i.e. those categories a text itself uses in its argumentation. This is particularly evident

in the research history of a large number of texts that would today be mostly called Old

Testament pseudepigrapha (Bauckham, Panayotov and Davila 2013). Whether a particular

text appears in a collection of Christian apocrypha or in a collection of Old Testament

pseudepigrapha is often decided by the question: is the text Jewish or Christian? In many

cases, however, this question is wrongly posed, as it applies categories to the texts that

are unlikely to correspond to them.

This is particularly evident in the Ascension of Isaiah, an apocalyptic writing that may well

have been written in the first decades of the second century and which can be found both

in collections of Old Testament pseudepigrapha and of New Testament apocrypha. Large

parts of this text describe events in the time of the prophet Isaiah and can thus be read

as Jewish. However, the fact that there are also passages that clearly refer to Jesus –

here called ‘the Beloved’ – and to his disciples led to the idea that the Ascension of Isaiah

was originally a Jewish writing which was later redacted (edited) by Christians. Even the

alleged Jewish source behind the Ascension was reconstructed. To this day, many editions

of early Jewish literature contain introductions and translations of this hypothetical source,

the so-called Martyrdom of Isaiah (Hammershaimb 1973). This Martyrdom of Isaiah,

however, probably never existed; it is a pure construct of a research project that could

not imagine that a Christian text could speak of Old Testament figures without mentioning

Jesus. But even if we were to recognize the Ascension of Isaiah as a Christian writing, this

might not be enough. The text we have today is likely to go back to a group of followers

of the Beloved, i.e. of Jesus. At no point do they use the term ‘Christian’ for themselves

– instead, they call themselves ‘saints’ or ‘righteous’; they seem to reject anything like

ecclesiastical organization, probably engage in ‘mystical’ practices, complain that there

are only a few prophets left, and hope for escape from this world dominated by the forces

of evil. It is likely the group behind this text would not have been able to do anything

with the term ‘Christian’ – and certainly nothing with a term ‘Christian’ as distinct from

‘Jewish’ (Henning and Nicklas 2016).

But this already indicates another problem: if we assume today that the attributes

‘Christian’ and ‘Jewish’ designate two different groups that are clearly separated from

each other, and that can also be recognized as such from the outside, neither term

applies to many texts of antiquity. The Ascension of Isaiah is only one text where this

gives rise to concrete problems of categorization. One could think of many other texts

which are usually called Old Testament pseudepigrapha but were produced (and used)

by people who probably understood themselves as followers of Jesus Christ (see Davila

2005; and Bauckham, Panayotov and Davila 2013). Different problems arise with the

so-called Jewish Christian gospels (Gregory 2017). The term ‘Jewish-Christian’ is an

artificial word that has been created by scholars to designate groups that saw themselves

as Jewish followers of Jesus of Nazareth. It is usually assumed that these groups were

not recognized as Jewish by other Jewish groups of the time who did not join the Jesus

movement (Schnelle 2019: 160–166). However, the designation not only falsely assumes

that one can precisely delineate what is Jewish and what is Christian. It implicitly assigns

these groups a role on the margins – or rather, between the decisive groups – from the

outset. In the history of research, the term was therefore associated with the idea of an

ultimately deficient form of following Christ, which was rightly not given a future alongside

Pauline ‘Gentile Christianity’ (Lemke 2001). It is clear that such presuppositions, which are

often implicitly anti-Jewish, cannot be accompanied by a neutral or even appreciative view

of the corresponding testimonies.

Finally, another problem arises from the fact that many early Jewish texts, often labelled

as Old Testament pseudepigrapha, have only been preserved through transmission in

Christian – often monastic – circles (see Davila 2005). Some texts were probably handed

down more or less unchanged, most with a high degree of fluidity. Others were transmitted

only in (relatively free) translations, others in edited form and still others in connection

with additions. A text like 2 Esdras, which is found in some manuscripts of the Vulgate

Old Testament, combines – in a not completely stable order – the books 4 Ezra, 5 Ezra,

and 6 Ezra into an overall composition. 4 Ezra is a Jewish apocalypse from the end of

the first century CE, originally written in Hebrew but transmitted in Latin. At least some

manuscripts offer signs of minor editorial interventions in the text, interventions which

were certainly carried out by Christian hands. The Latin 4 Ezra is followed by 6 Ezra,

another apocalyptic writing which is usually designated as a Christian text, but which at

no point clearly suggests such an attribute. Finally, either at the beginning or the end of

this composition comes 5 Ezra. This text, at least in some passages, speaks so clearly of

a Son of God, alluding to the Gospel of Matthew and the Apocalypse of John (Schröter

and Milbach 2018; Hirschberger 2018), that it is normally designated as Christian. But

again the question of how far this text sees itself as ‘Christian’ in distinction from ‘Jewish’

is highly controversial. Finally, until the Middle Ages, the overall composition 2 Esdras was

handed down as an Old Testament text. Rigid adherence to the categories ‘Christian’ and

‘Jewish’, at least in this case, quickly leads to absurdity.

In other words, it is still possible for pragmatic reasons to speak of New Testament or

Christian apocrypha. It is, however, necessary to be aware of these problems to avoid the

many misunderstandings often connected to them.

2.5 Results of the above approach: beyond historical and

geographical limits

The close connection in the history of research of the concept of apocrypha to the

emergence of the New Testament canon, which played a role in earlier definitions

of apocrypha, led to a distinction between apocryphal and hagiographical literature.

Hagiographical literature refers to writings which are mainly concerned with saints, their

miracles, sayings, and their death. The study of New Testament apocrypha already lies

on the periphery of the field of New Testament exegesis, while hagiography certainly

lies outside it. This led, in many cases, to an almost complete neglect of literature (and

traditions) that are of the highest importance for the study of apocrypha. Below are only

a few examples of consequences of the choice to draw a sharp boundary between

apocrypha and hagiographical literature.

First, the focus on the earliest possible apocryphal literature is related to an interest in

literature that is as close as possible to the origins of Christianity. The main question

related to such a research paradigm is: what value does a particular text have with regard

to research into the historical Jesus or the origins of the Christian movement? Within

the so called ‘Third Quest’ into the historical Jesus, some apocryphal gospels or gospel

fragments (such as the Gospel of Thomas, the unknown Gospel on Papyrus Egerton 2

or the Gospel of Peter) played an increasing role (see for example, Crossan 1985). As

soon as it can be shown that these texts must be regarded as secondary with regard to

the question of the historical Jesus (see Nicklas 2011b), they are removed from the field

of vision. The old prejudice – that apocrypha are of secondary interest – is confirmed

when there is too much concentration on only this problem. This is even more the case

with infancy gospels (such as the Protevangelium of James), apocalypses, or apocryphal

Acts of the Apostles. The latter especially are often regarded, at best, as entertainment

literature without theological relevance, or at worst as particularly abstruse and miraculous,

often heretical, literature (but see, for example, Spittler 2008). In fact, in the vast majority

of cases these texts say nothing reliable about the first decades of the development of

Christianity. The focus on this question alone, and the accompanying confirmation of

prejudices against apocryphal literature, usually lead to scholars not consulting these texts

even when other questions were in focus.

Second, the focus on apocrypha that originated before the end of the fourth century CE

is closely related to a focus on the ‘original text’, or at least the oldest accessible text of a

particular scripture. The entry point into work with Christian apocrypha is mostly through

manuals and translations that offer a text form that is as old as possible. This obscured for

a long time – in many cases until very recently – the fact that, with Christian apocrypha,

scholars are very often dealing with literature that was handed down in a much more fluid

and diverse way than was the case with canonical texts. Therefore, the textual forms

of many Christian apocrypha offered in most source collections hardly correspond to

what is actually available (Nicklas, forthcoming). Scholars tend to interpret the Gospel of

Thomas as a text of the second century CE (or in some cases even the first century). This

is certainly not completely wrong, but it should be borne in mind that large parts of the

text are only available in a much later Coptic translation. We can only assume how stable

the tradition before until this translation on the basis of the preserved Greek fragments of

the text (Oxyrhynchus Papyri [P. Oxy.] 1, 654 and 655; on the textual transmission of the

Gospel of Thomas, see Gathercole 2014: 3–13).

The situation is even more problematic with the Acts of John, which is usually regarded as

an apocryphal work of the late second or third century CE. The text included in the usual

collections of apocrypha, however, is not actually available in a single manuscript. This

is not only due to certain details of the textual transmission; rather, the text of the Acts of

John on which studies are normally based is compiled from various manuscripts, right

down to the order of the scenes. However, as soon as we turn to the (in many cases much

later) manuscripts that transmit the Acts of John (or better, the one form of Acts of John),

we find that we must instead select from a kind of ‘Acts of John Library’ (Spittler 2022).

Particularly influential among the texts of this diverse library were, of all things, the Acts of

John by Prochorus. This is a later form of the Acts of John which, although it survives in

a large number of manuscripts, is not found in any of the usual handbooks on apocryphal

literature (but see Spittler 2021). This has certainly to do with the focus of research on

texts that may have been written before the fourth century. The situation is very similar with

many other apocryphal Acts of the Apostles. In the case of the Acts of Thomas, an early

third-century apocryphal work devoted to Thomas’s alleged mission in India, the focus on

the original text form has long obscured the view of shorter forms of the text. However, the

many late manuscripts – some of which offer significantly abridged versions of the known

Acts of Thomas, in which no material relevant to the reconstruction of an oldest version

can be found – are also interesting: they show the techniques used to redact and rephrase

the apocryphal Acts of Thomas to make them part the liturgical tradition of veneration of

the saints, a process which did not conclude until the nineteenth century (Pricop 2021).

The once-rejected apocryphal text becomes again part of the tradition defined as orthodox.

Third, this also points to another problem: the focus on writings that originated before the

fourth century CE, and the concomitant interest on the oldest text form of these writings,

often combines with the question of the original function of a text. However, the fact that a

text is, and was, handed down in different text forms and in different contexts also means

that the function of the text changed or adapted to these contexts. But to concentrate

solely on the function of a text at the time it was written leads to neglect of other aspects

of the meaning of a text. This can already be seen in the example of the Acts of Thomas

just mentioned. There, late liturgical manuscripts offering abridged and rephrased forms

of the text show how the text took on a new function in a new form centuries after it was

composed. Only gradually is the study of apocryphal literatures also opening up to this

perspective: for example, it seems useful on the one hand to interpret the aforementioned

Nag Hammadi writings in the context of their probable time of origin. On the other hand,

it is also useful to interpret them as part of the codices in which they have survived to

the present day, and in the contexts of monastic settlements where these manuscripts

were probably used (see, for example, Lundhaug 2010 and the discussions in Verheyden,

Schröter and Nicklas 2021). The apocryphal narrative of the Passion and Resurrection of

Jesus, usually referred to as the Gospel of Peter, is normally read (rightly) as a second-

century text, and then as a further development of the canonical gospels, because of its

hypothetical context of origin (Foster 2010). However, the only extant extensive manuscript

of this text dates from the sixth or seventh century and is compiled in a codex with other

non-canonical texts. The discussion of this text thus may involve its possible function in the

second and in the sixth and seventh centuries (Nicklas 2020e).

Fourth, however, the main problem of concentrating solely on the first four centuries CE

has already been indicated: with this restriction, a large number of writings are completely

removed from the view of apocryphal research. This has already been shown in the

example of the Acts of John by Prochorus. However, this is only one example of many.

With the restriction to the first centuries, scholars can talk about only five significant

apocryphal Acts of the Apostles: the Acts of Paul, John, Peter, Andrew and Thomas.

Where we open the boundary, it becomes apparent that dozens of other writings arose

thereafter that revolve around the apostles and their companions. Certain textual forms,

which fully correspond to the above definition of apocryphal literature, only appear after

this time. One might think, for example, of the so called ‘Apostolic Memoirs’, which are

gospel-like texts written in Coptic and, in many cases, embedded in a supposed homily by

an important ecclesiastical author (Suciu 2017: 70–132). More than twenty such writings,

of paramount importance for the identity formation of Egypt’s miaphysite church (believing

in one divine-human nature of Christ only, rather than the two natures, one human and

one divine), have come to light in recent years. Another genre of apocryphal literature that

only emerged after the fourth century is the Lives of the Virgin, quite extensive writings that

narrate the life of Mary and, relatedly, the life of Jesus from Mary’s perspective (see, for

example, Shoemaker 2012).

Particularly dramatic, however, are the implications that arise in connection with

apocalyptic literature. In many handbooks on apocalyptic, the idea is found almost

throughout that apocalyptic literature originated in circles that saw themselves as

marginalized and who wanted to present their own worldview as God-ordained by means

of these revelatory writings. But this completely overlooks the fact that, from late antiquity

onwards, a series of apocalyptic writings emerged whose function – both in Byzantium

and in the Latin West – was to legitimize existing political systems. In particular, the idea

of an eschatological emperor who would place his power in the hands of God or Christ

at the end of times played an important role (examples in Shoemaker 2018). Above

all, however, limiting research on Christian apocrypha to texts originating before fourth

century CE also means that apocrypha that originated in certain countries and regions

whose production of (Christian) literature only began after the fourth century were largely

neglected in apocryphal research, or led a rather isolated, shadowy existence. Because

of this, important sources in Armenian, Georgian, Irish, Old Church Slavonic and others

have not been edited or have hardly been made accessible so far, and thus the wealth of

existing sources can hardly be estimated to this day.

3 Examples of texts and their function

Against this background, it becomes clear that the significance of Christian apocrypha

for our understanding of the history of Christianity, and of Christian thought and life, is

not simply marginal but makes a decisive contribution. First and foremost, the diversity

evident in the apocryphal writings of different times and geographical contexts helps us to

broaden our understanding of the complexity and diversity of Christian groups, Christian

thought, and Christian piety. Apocryphal writings, as we have seen, do not always

represent marginalized voices within the Christian movement. Sometimes, however, even

apocryphal writings which represent opposing voices to those that ultimately prevailed

demonstrate that things which seem self-evident may be less so than is usually thought.

The given framework, in turn, only allows us to highlight in a rudimentary and exemplary

way the role that apocryphal writings play and played in various areas of Christian life and

thought.

3.1 Apocrypha and Christian practice

Christian apocrypha are informative for understanding lived Christian practice. This,

however, should not be misunderstood to mean that apocrypha are primarily writings

representing a kind of ‘folk piety’ that is opposed to ‘true theology’ and Christian doctrine.

This misunderstanding is contradicted not only by the fact that many apocrypha reflect

high and complex – partly also experimental – theologies, but also by the fact that the

differentiation between a ‘lower’ popular piety and a higher theology is artificial. Instead, it

is helpful to take the approach of a ‘lived religion’ (for an approach to ancient lived religion,

see Rüpke 2016). The range of what is offered in this regard in apocryphal writings cannot

be grasped in a short contribution alone (see Markschies and Schröter 2012: 77). Aspects

of Christian practice on various levels are evident, for example, in the prayers and hymns

handed down in apocryphal writings, among which texts that testify to intercession for the

dead are particularly important in the history of theology (Kraus 2009). Many writings are

interesting in terms of liturgical history. This goes so far that important developments in the

practice of (and certainly also reflection on) baptism and Eucharist can be better grasped

when the testimony of Christian apocrypha is brought in (Buchinger 2015).

In addition, in the apocrypha we find valuable testimonies of how Christian groups

reflected on their diaconal practice of caring for the poor, widows, orphans, and prisoners.

They also comprise important sources for the justification and development of forms of

liturgical celebrations and the organization of the ecclesiastical year. Here again, a whole

range of aspects, between the commemoration of saints and fasting practices, can be

considered in relation to the apocryphal texts. The emerging pilgrimages to the Holy Land,

to Egypt or to Rome – and in later times also to Santiago de Compostela and other places

– are in many cases connected with interpretations of these places that can be traced

not only to biblical but also to apocryphal traditions (see Nicklas 2017a; Eastman 2019;

Baliñas Perez 2017). Because of the wide range of texts – some of which are deeply

rooted in Jewish tradition (see the discussion in Gounelle and Mounier 2015), others of

which are neglected or virtually forgotten – Christian apocrypha also offer evidence in

many passages in the texts of the adoption and development of Jewish purity practices,

such as related to the eating of food, sexuality, etc. (Desreumaux 2014: 165–215).

3.2 Christian apocrypha and Jesus traditions

During the so-called ‘Third Quest’ for the historical Jesus (beginning in the 1980s), several

apocryphal gospels came into the focus of scholarly interest because they seemed to

provide independent and previously underestimated information regarding the historical

Jesus. The most debated writing was certainly the above-mentioned Gospel of Thomas.

Besides this, texts like the Gospel of Peter (a fragmentary account of Jesus’ passion

and resurrection) and the Unknown Gospel on Papyrus Egerton 2 (consisting of several

fragmentary Jesus stories) came into focus. However, we should not focus solely on this

dimension of the significance of Christian apocrypha, as if their value only relates to our

understanding of the historical Jesus. The hope that at least some apocryphal gospels

may offer new insights into the historical Jesus has meanwhile given way to skepticism

in wide circles (Nicklas 2011b). But in areas where the historical Jesus is not considered

the only and decisive starting point of our thinking, apocryphal writings can offer us highly

valuable insights. In fact, our understanding of the transmission of Jesus traditions can

only grow if we can place it on as broad a basis as possible. Moreover, as soon as we

do not only focus on reconstructions of the historical Jesus, the development of Jesus

traditions in genres besides the gospels (such as apocryphal Acts of the Apostles or

apocalyptic literature) can also come into view (Snyder 2020).

These basic ideas can also be illustrated in more concrete terms. First, in some quotes by

ancient Christian authors, or embedded in some New Testament manuscripts, we find so-

called ‘agrapha’ – that is, extracanonical sayings of Jesus (and in a broader sense Jesus

traditions). Until a few years ago, they were examined solely for the possibility that we

could learn something new about the historical Jesus from them – the result was and is

extremely meagre. But the agrapha are themselves interesting in that they exhibit further

developments of the canonical words of Jesus. If, for example, they are encountered in

early church literature as part of a larger context of argumentation, we can learn something

about the relation of stability and flexibility in the transmission of Jesus’ words through their

concrete use in concrete contexts (Bazzana 2020).

Second, a look at the development of Jesus traditions outside the canonical gospels

shows the lasting importance of narrative interpretation of the scriptures of Israel for the

emergence and interpretation of themes and motifs that can be connected with the Jesus

narrative. Already in the canonical passion narratives it becomes clear what an important

role texts from the prophets and the Psalms play in telling the Jesus story. One can think,

for example, of the function of Psalm 22 for the crucifixion scene in the Gospels of Mark

and Matthew. Apocryphal narratives such as the Gospel of Peter, or passion traditions in

the Sibylline Oracles, very clearly show two directions of development. On the one hand,

motifs developed from the scriptures of Israel (what we today call the Old Testament)

were able to become imprinted in the social memory of Christian groups. So imprinted,

in fact, that they could be repeated and retold in a way that shows that – although they

were perceived as an indispensable part of the Jesus tradition – their Old Testament

origins could recede into the background or be forgotten. At the same time, it is evident

that certain clusters of Old Testament writings continued to be used for the development

of the Jesus tradition: for example, some references in the passion narratives of the eighth

Sibylline Oracle to traditions in Isaiah about the suffering servant of God are more clearly

recognizable than references in the canonical gospels to the same traditions.

In addition, new motifs could be inserted into the Jesus tradition through the creative

narrative interpretation of Old Testament passages not previously connected with the

Jesus tradition (Nicklas 2020b). An example of this is the apocryphal narrative of Jesus in

the pseudo-Cyprianic homily De duobus montibus Sina et Sion, which understands Jesus’

cross as a ‘high wood’ and places it in a garden. All this is due to an interpretation of Cant

1:6 (Nicklas 2021b). However, similarities can be observed not only in the development of

the passion narratives: many aspects of the pre- and childhood history of Jesus, such as

those found in the Protevangelium of James and related narratives about the childhood

of Jesus, can be explained as receptions of texts from the scriptures of Israel (Nicklas

2020d). Many more examples could be mentioned. What is important, however, is the

already recognizable insight into the flexibility of narrative ‘images’ of the remembered

Jesus, which, depending on context and function, could be oriented not only to what had

been handed down from the past but also to the needs of those whom the writers wanted

(and were obligated) to address.

Third, from late antiquity onwards the changing demands on the Jesus tradition could even

bring forth new genres of texts that have so far hardly played a role in Jesus research. In

this context, one should think of the ‘Apostolic Memoirs’ mentioned above, which have

only recently come into focus (Van den Broek 2013; Suciu 2017). These are writings

comparable to the gospels, composed in Coptic. They were created, from the sixth

century onwards, to anchor in the Jesus tradition aspects of the identity of the so-called

‘miaphysite’ Church of Egypt. This church emerged after the Council of Chalcedon in 451

CE which defined orthodox faith in the two natures of Christ, one human and one divine.

In the writings of this group, textual units known from the canonical gospels are combined

with apocryphal traditions; many of the known Apostolic Memoirs are also embedded in

a (pseudepigraphical) homily by a great early church author of the past (such as Cyril of

Jerusalem, Evodius of Rome and others). Some offer a narrative, about the rediscovery of

the text that supposedly disappeared for a long time, told gladly from the perspective of an

apostle.

Another genre of late antique gospel-related literature are the so-called Centones, poetic

writings composed of Homeric or Virgilian verses which were reordered in such a way that

they could be read as Jesus narratives (Sandnes 2011). Even later, the hardly known so-

called Lives of the Virgin emerged, which can at least partly be understood as narratives

of the life of Jesus from Mary’s point of view, and as testimonies of a developing Marian

piety (Shoemaker 2012). If we look beyond the boundaries of Christian tradition, even

Jesus traditions in the Islamic tradition – beginning with the Qur’an – play an important role

(Segovia 2018).

Fourth, the question of images and narratives of Jesus in apocryphal traditions is also

an example of how the study of apocrypha is important for the history of theology.

Interestingly, the monumental history of the development of Christology by Alois Grillmeier,

laid out in several volumes, only offers a few pages in its first volume on the christologies

of apocryphal writings – all of them labelled as ‘heretical’ in Grillmeier’s first volume

(Grillmeier 1979: 184–190). This is clearly due to the low esteem in which apocryphal

literature is held in systematic theologies, a situation that has changed little despite

the paradigm shift evident in historical theologies. Thus, a consideration of Christian

apocrypha makes the source material relevant to the history of dogma much broader than

is possible with a concentration purely on proto-orthodox and orthodox writings by ‘fathers

of the church’.

In many cases, a study of apocrypha reveals the lost possibilities of thinking about

Christology. It may be interesting – not only historically but also theologically – to

understand which concerns lie behind conceptualizations that were rejected as deficient

or false in the course of church history (for an overview Dubois 2011). One can think

of texts that speak of the polymorphism of Christ in various ways, describe Christ as

a kind of angelic figure, thematize Jesus’ absolute Torah observance, or reflect on the

extent to which Christ’s suffering and death can be related to his divinity. An interest in

the christological significance of Jesus’ baptism can still be observed in some apocryphal

gospels (as in the New Testament, especially in the Gospel of Mark). However, this has

largely moved out of the focus of today’s systematic theologies, probably out of concern for

adoptionist forms of Christology (but see Nicklas 2020c: 250–255). Exciting possibilities,

on the other hand, could arise from a theology of the ‘true face of Jesus’, which can be

traced back to forms and continuations of the Abgar legend, but also the Veronica figure

(legends about the idea that a true image of Jesus has remained in this world; they can

be related to Abgar of Edessa – and the so-called mandylion; mainly in the East – and to

Veronica and the stations of the Cross – mainly in the West), and which continues to be

highly present in Orthodox iconography (Nicklas 2020c: 262–267).

3.3 Apocrypha and the construction of the origins of

Christianity

The above-mentioned example of the apostolic memoirs from Egypt already made it clear

that many Christian apocrypha can be understood as identity-forming narratives of origins,

that is, as narratives that reflect the origins of the Christian movement – or a part of it –

and are thus able to establish a local, regional, or even church-wide tradition.

First, already the gospels of the New Testament place emphasis in different ways

on dealing with ‘origins’. This becomes particularly clear when Mark introduces his

gospel with the words ‘Archē [beginning, origin] of the Jesus Christ-Gospel’ (Mark 1:1).

Matthew, in turn, starts with a genealogy of Jesus (Matt 1:1–17), while Luke’s preface

reminds readers of those who were ‘eyewitnesses and servants of the Word from the

beginning’ (Luke 1:2). John has his gospel begin right at the origin of creation (John 1:1,

see Gen 1:1). This trend is less clearly demonstrable in apocryphal gospels – in part

this may be because writings such as the Gospel of Peter or the ‘Unknown Gospel’ on

Papyrus Egerton 2 have survived only in fragmentary form. Nevertheless, an interest in the

origins of Jesus himself can be seen in the writings that are usually referred to as ‘infancy

gospels’. This is particularly true of the Protevangelium of James, whose ancient title,

Birth of Mary, indicates that the interest of this writing is to trace the origins of Jesus more

concretely one generation further back. In fact, with its interest in Mary’s family, birth, and

childhood up to the birth of Jesus, this text offers an embedding of the Jesus narrative in

an imagined biblical world and its logic (Nicklas 2020d).

Second, and even more clearly, many apocryphal narratives about apostles and their

companions can be understood as founding legends of different regional churches. This

is especially true for churches whose origins are not mentioned in the New Testament, but

which – for various reasons – wanted to establish themselves as apostolic foundations

in the course of their history. It applies, for example, to the church of Edessa, today’s

Urfa in Turkey. Its founding legend is recorded in the so-called Doctrine of Addai, an

apostolic narrative probably of the fifth century CE. In it, decisive aspects of ecclesiastical

practice in Edessa – and also the New Testament canon used there (e.g. with Tatian’s

Diatessaron, a second century gospel ‘harmony’, instead of the four gospels) – are

established and related to apostolic origins (Desreumaux 1997 and 2014). This is only

one of many examples which show that many of the writings that we classify today under

‘apocrypha’ were anything but hidden, secret, or even heretical. The same applies to texts

with comparable functions, like the Acts of Titus, the Acts of Barnabas, and the Martyrdom

of Mark (the founding narratives of the churches of Crete, Cyprus, and Alexandria,

respectively; see Nicklas 2017b, Nicklas 2020a and Nicklas 2021a).

At times, and on a regional basis, writings such as those mentioned above played a role

alongside the canon that can hardly be underestimated. This can be shown best with

examples of traditions, associated with Cyprus, around the apostle Barnabas. According

to the fifth century Acts of Barnabas, Barnabas established the ecclesiastical organization

of Cyprus on a second missionary journey not mentioned in the biblical book of Acts, and

suffered his martyrdom there. According to the later Barnabas Encomium by the monk

Alexander, Barnabas is stylized as one of the most important apostles. The text points

to his tomb, which can be visited in the Barnabas Monastery near Salamis. Writings like

these could attain the highest political significance. The fact that Cyprus had an apostle’s

tomb, the existence of which was ‘proven’ in the above Barnabas traditions, allowed the

independence of the Church of Cyprus to be asserted and maintained against claims to

the contrary by the Church of Antioch (Nicklas 2020a).

A completely different case can be considered in connection with the pilgrimage to

Santiago de Compostela, which is still significant today. Its origins can be found in a

time when, after the disintegration of the Visigothic empire through the Muslim invasion,

the Kingdom of Asturias allied itself with Galicia. This alliance, which at the same time

formed the nucleus of the Reconquista (the reconquest of the Spanish peninsula from the

Arabs during the Middle Ages), was able to gain its apostolic legitimacy through founding

legends concerning the translatio (removal from one place to another) of the apostle’s

relics (Baliñas Perez 2017). At the same time Constantinople, re-founded by Emperor

Constantine I in 324 CE, had greater difficulties in establishing itself as an apostolic seat.

As the capital of the Eastern Roman – and later Byzantine – Empire, however, it too had

to establish a connection to apostolic origins. Even if such a connection could only be

created by the translatio of apostolic relics, not by an apostolic founding legend, it was still

possible to establish Constantinople/Byzantium as a place where Mary the Mother of God

was (and remained) active in a special way. A text that again links this activity to a special

place is the Miracles of the Pege, a collection of miracle narratives from the tenth century,

collecting stories related to a place of pilgrimage associated with the Theotokos – that is,

the Mother of God – in Constantinople (Talbot and Johnson 2012: xiv–xviii and 293–297).

Finally, a whole web of apocryphal narratives and traditions became significant for the

church of Egypt. The New Testament summarizes the flight of Jesus’ family to Egypt – and

thus several years in the life of the young Jesus – in only a very few verses of Matthew’s

Gospel (Matt 2:13–15). This gap in the Jesus narrative of the New Testament naturally

creates room for further narratives that could be tied to different places in Egypt. These

narratives could form the basis of an itinerary of the Holy Family through Egypt, in a

dynamically changing juxtaposition of local traditions over the centuries (Davis 2008: 125–

148; Bovon 2013). The Arabian Infancy Gospel (section 24), for example, recounts of

the Holy Family’s rest at a sycamore tree at Matariya, where Jesus caused a spring to

gush, in which Mary washed his shirt and where the child’s sweat, wrung out of his shirt,

miraculously turned into balm. This is a typical example of the narrative justification of a

local tradition, in the vicinity of present-day Cairo, which can still be traced today.

3.4 Apocrypha and Christian ideas of space and time

Among the fundamental problems of humanity are questions about one’s place in time

and history, as well as the order of the world. Various genres of texts – including many

writings that we would classify as apocrypha – address these questions, beginning with

apocryphal writings that offer statements on the creation of the world. Of particular interest

in this context are texts that are usually described as ‘Gnostic’ and whose myths about

the creation of the world – today classified as Valentinian, Sethian, etc. – in many cases

clearly differ from what we find in the creation narratives of the Old Testament, especially

the book of Genesis (Létourneau 2010).

In turn, many early Christian apocalypses offer highly significant voices in the discourse

on the questions of time, history, and the end of time. In addition to the Apocalypse of

John (also known as the book of Revelation), texts such as the Ascension of Isaiah

are relevant here. The Ascension situates itself in a world which is dominated by evil

powers, repeatedly threatened by new incarnations of Belial (Satan), the last of which

it understands to be Nero. As explained above, in the course of the history of tradition

the two short apocalypses 5 and 6 Ezra were combined with the Jewish 4 Ezra to form 2

Esdras, which at least in some manuscripts of the Vulgate is considered part of the Old

Testament. While 5 Ezra deals with questions of God’s faithfulness to the covenant and

the true people of God, 6 Ezra, borrowing from prophetic writings, offers dark visions of the

end times. In turn, the Jewish and Christian Sibylline Oracles, in the mouth of the pagan

prophetess Sibyl, invoke God’s wrath against the nations and anticipate a dramatic turn of

the times.

Similar to the Apocalypse of John, later writings also eventually offer more or less clear

references to historically identifiable events that precede the end of time. Different versions

of the same text can grow to include an increased number of allusions to events that are

not encountered in other versions. One can think, for example, of the Latin Apocalypse

of Thomas, which in its short form presents itself as a description of the last week of

the world before its end. In its long form the text is preceded by allusions to historical

figures (such as the emperors Theodosius I and his sons Arcadius and Honorius; Nicklas,

Geigenfeind and Stettner 2018). The very successful Tiburtine Sibyl – not to be confused

with the Sibylline Oracles just mentioned – has also survived in a variety of text forms, the

more recent of which even contain quite clearly decipherable references to the reigns of

medieval emperors from the Carolingian and Salian houses (Shoemaker 2016b).

However, apocalypses and related writings are not only interested in the end of time.

In many cases, they also lead their readers into utopian and dystopian ‘other worlds’.

Many such writings present themselves not only as visions but as otherworldly journeys

(mostly of great figures of the past), in which the secrets of heaven(s), hellish places,

paradise and/or the heavenly city are revealed. Very often the manifold depictions of other

worlds in these writings are in service of the hope of better understanding the order of

this world. This is particularly clear in the Apocalypse of Paul, originally written in Greek,

which was highly influential, especially in its Latin translation as Visio Pauli (Jirouškova

2006). It begins with a lamentation by the various non-human parts of creation before God,

because humanity alone is sinful. The Pauline journey through the realms of the beyond is

thus from the very beginning in service of the question of God’s patience in relation to his

justice and mercy.

The Visio Pauli is only one of many writings wherein otherworldly journeys are

encountered; in the Byzantine East, for example, the Apocalypse of the Virgin became

particularly successful (Shoemaker 2016a). Probably the oldest Christian text in which

descriptions of otherworldly places, such as paradise and hell, occupy a large space is the

Greek and Ethiopian Apocalypse of Peter, dating back perhaps as early as the first half of

the second century. The Greek version of this text prefaces the view into the afterlife with

the disciples’ request

that he [Jesus] would show us one of our brethren, a righteous one, who had gone forth out

of the world, in order that we might see of what manner or form they are, and, having taken

courage, might encounter the people who hear us. (v5)

The text is also exciting for theological reasons, as it is quite possible that its original

version contained the idea that the stay of sinners in hell was not necessarily eternal, but

that they could instead be freed through the intercession of the righteous (Nicklas 2019a;

Ehrman 2022).

These few examples offer only some possibilities for the significance of Christian

apocrypha for our understanding of ancient Christianity, and many other areas. Christian

apocrypha offer important material on the history of the interpretation of the Bible, the

further development of biblical figures, questions of Jewish-Christian relations in antiquity,

the problem of the so-called ‘Hellenization’ of Christianity. They also contribute to classical

theological fields such as soteriology, the organization and self-understanding of the

church or ecclesial communities (including the question of the role of women in early

Christian communities), questions of angelology, Mariology, and many others.

4 Receptions of Christian apocrypha

Even a brief overview of examples of the reception of Christian apocrypha can show that

many of the writings mentioned by no means played only marginal roles. While some of

the better-known apocryphal gospels (such as the Unknown Gospel on Papyrus Egerton

2, the Gospel of Peter or the Gospel of Thomas) have only survived in fragmentary form

or single manuscripts, a large number of lesser-known apocryphal writings have been

handed down not only in multiple manuscripts but also in numerous translations. These

include writings such as the Protevangelium of James, the early medieval Gospel of

Pseudo-Matthew, or the various forms of the Gospel of Nicodemus and the cycle of

writings around Pilate. The latter, in parts, found its way into the famous and widespread

Legenda Aurea of Jacobus of Voragine (1228/29–1298), a medieval compendium of

knowledge about Christian saints and their veneration. An apostolic writing such as the

Acts of John by Prochorus is much less known today than the ancient Acts of John;

however, it seems to have enjoyed some popularity in late antiquity and the Middle Ages.

Finally, several of the aforementioned journeys to hell, such as the Visio Pauli or (in the

East) the Apocalypse of the Virgin, became particularly successful; as did apocalypses

such as the Tiburtine Sibyl, which is still commemorated today by the Teste David cum

Sibylla of the Latin Requiem. These texts were broadly received among the majority

churches that saw themselves as ‘orthodox’. Others enjoyed particular popularity among

groups that existed even in the Middle Ages and were regarded as heretical by the

mainstream church (Cathars, Bogomils, etc.). This applies, for example, to the already

mentioned Ascension of Isaiah, which was read among Cathars and Bogomils (medieval

groups considered to be heretic by the Catholic and Orthodox churches).

In many cases, moreover, the textual tradition is so unstable that we have to speak of

several versions of the same writing. As such, compiling a critical edition of the tradition

that attempts to reconstruct an original text (or Ausgangstext) in the classical sense hardly

seems possible or meaningful. In addition, some particularly exciting dimensions of the

reception of apocryphal literatures should be mentioned:

(1) Christian apocrypha are not only relevant in liturgical history, even though they often

describe forms of liturgical actions and celebrations or also reflect on their meaning. In

many cases, apocryphal writings were also transmitted as hagiographical literature in

liturgical manuscripts, read out on feasts in memory of an apostle or apostle’s disciple,

or even written and edited for these occasions. This can be shown, for example, by a

series of apostolic narratives which, like the Martyrdom of Mark, end with a reference to

the celebration of the memorial day for the apostle (Nicklas 2019b). One example that

shows how writings understood as apocryphal, and explicitly not part of the canon, were

‘brought back home’ into ecclesiastical use: the Acts of Thomas, which in very few cases

have survived in the Syriac or Greek long form on which most collections of apocryphal

literature are based (Pricop 2021). At the same time, a large number of manuscripts used

in the liturgy offer clearly edited short forms of the text. These are hardly of interest for

the reconstruction of an original version, but they do testify to the form in which the Acts

of Thomas remained known far into the Middle Ages. Moreover, in addition to the known

version of the Acts of Thomas, so-called Minor Acts of Thomas were produced, combining

material from the old Acts of Thomas with new material.

(2) What is better known is the fact that many Christian apocrypha were also received

in iconography (Cartlidge and Elliott 2001). This is especially true of texts that we would

call ‘apocryphal’ from today’s perspective but which, despite being non-canonical,

acquired significance alongside the canon. This significance could be for certain regional

expressions of Christianity, or relate to forms of piety that could not appeal to the canon to

establish their legitimacy. In particular, motifs related to the childhood story and passion

of Jesus (e.g. in the Protevangelium of James and later childhood stories up to depictions

of the Catholic Way of the Cross, including apocryphal motifs such as the Shroud of

Veronica) but also eschatology (such as depictions of the afterlife and the end of times)

are often influenced by apocrypha. The relationship of images, and sequences of images,

to narratives is not always easy to describe, as the images should be considered as

having a distinct value of their own alongside the narratives.

(3) Apocrypha are, and were, also received in other media. Prominent examples may be

found in important literature such as Dante’s Divine Comedy, but the principle also applies

to modern novels such as Mikhail Bulgakow’s Der Meister und Margarita (The Master and

Margerita) or Amos Oz’s Judas; movies like Monty Python's Life of Brian or Mel Gibson’s

Passion of the Christ; and in many more works and artforms. Depending on how one

wants to apply the definition proposed above, these can sometimes be interpreted as a

kind of modern apocrypha. What can only be hinted at here – the diversity of forms of

reception of apocryphal writings, motifs, and figures in diverse media – highlights the

fact that, at least in traditional Christian circles, motifs going back to apocrypha continue

to be part of ‘cultural memory’ to this day – even where the writings themselves may be

forgotten.

Attributions

Bibliography

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