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James or Jacob in the Bible?

The problem of names surfaced at a recent Bible study at the St. Paul Union Church in Antalya, Turkey. Pastor Dennis Massaro was discussing the three men named “James” in the New Testament: Two were apostles, and the third was the leader of the Jerusalem church and author of the eponymous letter—the Book of James. Participants in the study came from a range of countries, including the Netherlands, Iran, Mexico, Moldova and Cameroon. When I asked what the name of these men was in their languages, they all said “Jacob.”

guido-reni-saint-james
Baroque artist Guido Reni depicts the apostle James, son of Zebedee, in his painting Saint James the Greater (c. 1636–1638).

When I was teaching a course on the New Testament General Letters (Hebrews through Jude), I began by introducing the Book of Jacob, also known as the Book of James. Students were perplexed until they learned that Jacob is the proper translation of the Greek name Iakōbos. One student wrote later that knowing this “turned my understanding of the writing upside down.” Another observed that “with the name change, the loss of the Jewish lineage occurs.”

So how did the Jewish name Ya’akov become so Gentilized as James? Since the 13th century, the form of the Latin name Iacomus began its use in English. In the 14th century, John Wycliffe made the first Bible translation into English and translated Iakobus as James. (However, in both the Old and New Testaments he arbitrarily used the name Jacob for the patriarch). In all future English translations the name stuck, especially after 1611, when King James I sponsored the translation then called the Authorized Version. Since 1797 it has been called the King James Bible.

So what is lost by using James instead of Jacob? First, it has created an awkwardness in academic writing. Scholars providing a transliteration of James indicate Iakōbos, which even lay readers know is not the same. Hershel Shanks has noted that the reason Israeli scholars failed to understand the significance of the eponymous ossuary is that they didn’t connect James with Ya’akov.1

Second, James’s ancestral lineage is lost, as the student noted above. In Matthew’s genealogy, we learn that Joseph’s father was named Jacob (Matthew 1:16) and that his family tree included the patriarch Jacob (Matthew 1:2). James was thus named after his grandfather. As Ben Witherington writes, “It is clear that the family of ‘James’ was proud of its patriarchal heritage.”2 So Jacob was the third Jacob in the family.

Third, James’s Jewish cultural background is minimized. Tal Ilan identifies Jacob as the 15th most popular name in Palestine in antiquity, with 18 known persons carrying it.3 Including both the Eastern and Western Diasporas, Jacob was the third most popular Jewish name, with 74 occurrences.

Fourth, the Jewish literary heritage is muddled. The Book of Jacob (i.e., the Book of James) is addressed to “the twelve tribes in the diaspora” (James 1:1) and full of references and allusions to the Torah and Wisdom Literature of the Jewish Bible (Christians’ Old Testament). Scholars consider James the most “Jewish” book in the New Testament. Its genre is considered to be a diaspora letter like Jeremiah 29:1–23 and the apocryphal works The Epistle of Jeremiah, 2 Maccabees 1:1–2:18, and 2 Apocalypse of Baruch 78–86.

For these reasons, changing English translations of James to Jacob makes a lot of sense. In my lifetime we have adapted to a number of name changes: Bombay to Mumbai, Peking to Beijing, Burma to Myanmar, and Rhodesia to Zimbabwe. These changes were soon incorporated by the media as well as in subsequent editions of geographical and historical books. Making such an onomastic adjustment need not be too difficult in religious circles, either.

But can such a switch be made practically? Biblical scholars and publishers would need to agree that continued use of “James” is linguistically indefensible and culturally misleading. Most difficult to change would be Bible translations, which are very conservative. To start, a footnote could denote that James is really Jacob. And while we’re at it, let’s rehabilitate Jacob as the name of two of Jesus’ disciples/apostles. These connections, now lost only for English readers, were caught by Greek-speaking audiences as well as modern readers of translations in most other languages. Let’s give Jacob his due.

Notes:

  1. Hershel Shanks and Ben Witherington III, The Brother of Jesus: The Dramatic Story & Meaning of the First Archaeological Link to Jesus & His Family (New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 2003), p. 28.
  2. Shanks and Witherington III, Brother of Jesus, p. 97.
  3. Ṭal Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity. Part IV: The Eastern Diaspora 330 BCE–650 CE (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011).
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Antipatris: Another Pauline Site Off My Bucket List

Mark Wilson Follows Paul’s Footsteps

Several years ago Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson brought the subject of “bucket lists” to our attention via a movie by that name. In case you didn’t see it, Nicholson’s billionaire character assists Freeman’s in fulfilling a number of wishes before he “kicked the bucket.” While I have not prepared a formal bucket list, I certainly have an informal one.

Antipatris Herodian Street
Ancient visitors would have approached the magnificent walls of Antipatris on this Herodian street. Biblical scholar Mark Wilson describes the road into Antipatris. “My imagination was stirred to picture Paul mounted on a horse and riding into Antipatris under the protection of 200 soldiers, 70 horsemen, and 200 spearmen.”

One wish is to visit all the sites related to Paul in the New Testament. Living in Turkey is certainly a boon to make that happen. So far, I have visited all the Pauline places in Turkey, Italy, and mainland Greece. In Israel the only place I hadn’t visited was Antipatris. Paul made an overnight stop there while being escorted by Roman troops en route from Jerusalem to Caesarea (Acts 23:31-32).

An opportunity to visit Antipatris presented itself in late February when I was leading a tour in Israel for my Regent University students. So my wife Dindy and I flew to Tel Aviv a day early and picked up a rental car at Ben Gurion airport. Since I drive in Turkey, I figured that driving in Israel wouldn’t be much different. In fact, the drive to our hotel in Yafo (Joppa) was a piece of cake, since we arrived on Friday afternoon, the eve of Shabbat, when the roads are largely empty.

Antipatris Mark Edited
Antipatris was one of the few Pauline sites that Biblical scholar Mark Wilson had yet to visit. By standing on this Herodian Street, Mark Wilson became familiar with yet another ancient city in Paul’s world. In addition to his research, Wilson guides BAS readers through Paul’s footsteps in Turkey.

Antipatris was one of the few Pauline sites that Biblical scholar Mark Wilson had yet to visit. By standing on this Herodian Street, Mark Wilson became familiar with yet another ancient city in Paul’s world. In addition to his research, Wilson guides BAS readers through Paul’s footsteps in Turkey.

Saturday morning we set out for Antipatris, today part of a national park called Yarkon. I plotted the route on a highway map, and it didn’t look too difficult. However, in Petak Tikva we missed a turn and wandered around for an hour. Fortunately, most Israelis speak some English so periodically we got redirected. One young man marveled that I was trying to find the place without the aid of a smart phone or GPS navigation system. Well, I happen to be old school when all we had were maps, and they usually work well enough.

Down the road I saw a sign pointing to Afek. Well, I knew that Antipatris was called Aphek in the Old Testament. Here the Philistines captured the Ark of the Covenant in a great battle with the Israelites (1 Samuel 4:1-11). So, thinking we were close, I turned–only to arrive at the Afek Industrial Park. Once again we retraced our route to the main road as my wife smiled patiently from the navigator’s seat.

Soon we spotted the massive walls of the 16th century Ottoman fort perched on Tel Afek’s summit. We found many Israelis in the park relaxing amidst the lush greenery under massive eucalyptus trees. Water flowed from the springs at the source of the Yarqon River; no wonder it was called Pegae (“the springs”) in the Hellenistic period. Herod later named the city Antipatris after his father.

Excavations have exposed a few rows of an odeon as well as part of the agora. But most thrilling for me was the ability to walk on the Herodian street that led into the city. My imagination was stirred to picture Paul mounted on a horse and riding into Antipatris under the protection of 200 soldiers, 70 horsemen, and 200 spearmen. Unlike our leisurely excursion on a sunny winter afternoon, Paul’s visit was stressful as he fled for his life. However, being a Roman citizen was a good perquisite for times like this.

Later our Israeli guide told me he had never visited Antipatris with a group. Was it worth the hassle of getting lost to find this out-of-the way place? Definitely! And now my bucket list of Pauline places has one more site checked off.