Negotiating the Nativity in Late Antiquity:

The Qur’ān’s Rereading of Mary’s Preparation for the Conception of Jesus

By

Rami Tannous

A thesis submitted in conformity with the requirements

for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

The Department for the Study of Religion

University of Toronto

© Copyright 2019 by Rami Tannous

 Abstract

Negotiating the Nativity in Late Antiquity:

The Qur’ān’s Rereading of Mary’s Preparation for the Conception of Jesus

By Rami Tannous
Doctor of Philosophy
The Department for the Study of Religion
University of Toronto
2018

The qur’ānic portrayals of the nativity, found primarily in Sūrat Maryam (Q 19.15-32)

and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān (Q 3.42-47), differ in cardinal ways from the accounts of the canonical

Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Scholars long ago demonstrated that the uniqueness of qur’ānic

depictions of the nativity stems from the fact that they draw upon other sources besides the

canonical Gospels. The last decades have witnessed a renewed interest in this theme through

the publications of Suleiman Mourad, Cornelia Horn, Gabriel Reynolds, Stephen Shoemaker

and others. These studies shed light on different angles of the interaction between the nativity

accounts found in the Qur’ān and those presented in the Gospel of Luke and certain apocryphal

Gospels, particularly the Protoevangelium of James (henceforth Prot. Jas.) Nevertheless,

innovative and significant as they are, these studies remain limited to the congruence between

the qur’ānic nativity and these Gospel traditions.

This study explores the Qur’ān’s portrayal of Mary’s preparation for the conception of

Jesus in Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. It illustrates new points of congruence between

the qur’ānic accounts and the Prot. Jas. It also demonstrates that the Qur’ān retells the story of

the nativity through a process of interpretive negotiation with yet unexamined traditions. These

include pre-Islamic Arabian beliefs, Jewish Enochic literature, Syriac traditions based on the

writings of Ephrem the Syrian, and works of Jewish-Christian communities.

ii
 Contents

Abbreviations ii

Introduction 1

Chapter I

The Qur’ān as a Late Antique Text in Western Scholarship 35

Chapter II

Mary’s Identity in the Qur’ān 93

Chapter III

Mary’s Birth and Upbringing 150

Chapter IV

Mary’s Withdrawal from Her People 203

Chapter V

The Identity of the Divine Messenger(s) 255

Chapter VI

Mary’s Encounter with the Angel 312

Conclusion 375

Appendix: The Qur’ānic Nativity Accounts 379

Bibliography 385

iii
Abbreviations

Bible Dictionaries

ABD Anchor Bible Dictionary

DOTTE NEW International Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and Exegesis
NBD New Bible Dictionary
NIDB The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible
TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament
TDOT Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament

Language Dictionaries

CDG Comparative Dictionary of Ge‘ez

DCH The Dictionary of Classical Hebrew
GELNT The Concise Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament
CSD A Compendious Syriac Dictionary
DQU Arabic-English Dictionary of Qur’anic Usage
DMWA A Dictionary of Modern Written Arabic
HELOT A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament
Lisān Lisān al-‘Arab
LS A Syriac Lexicon
LSJ A Greek-English Lexicon
Muḥīṭ Al-Qāmūs al-Muḥīṭ
SD Sabaic Dictionary
Tāj Tāj al-‘Arūs min Jawāhir al-Qāmūs
TSyr. Thesaurus Syriacus

Books of Grammar

GAL A Grammar of the Arabic Language

NAGWL A New Arabic Grammar of the Written Language

Encyclopedias

EAC Encyclopedia of Ancient Christianity

EDSS Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls
EI2 The Encyclopaedia of Islam, 2nd Edition
EI3 The Encyclopaedia of Islam, 3rd Edition
EJ Encyclopedia Judaica, 2nd Edition
EJS The Encyclopedia of Jewish Symbols
EQ Encyclopedia of the Qur’ān
MIC Medieval Islamic Civilization: An Encyclopedia

iv
Books, Volumes, Conference Proceedings and Collections of Primary Sources

ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers: The Writings of the Church Fathers Down to A.D. 325.
Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. 10 Vols. Grand Rapids,
MI: Eerdmans, 2001.
ANRW Aufsteig und Niedergang der Römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms
im Spiegel der neueren Forschung (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1972-)
CDSSE The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English. Translated by Geza Vermes.
London: Penguin, 2004.
CMR Christian-Muslim Relations: A Bibliographical History, 12 Vols. Ed David
Thomas et al. Leiden: Brill, 2009.
FV Arthur Jeffery. The Foreign Vocabulary of the Qur’ān. Leiden: Brill, 2007.
GdQ Theodor Nöldeke. Geschichte des Qorāns. Göttingen: Verlag der
Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1860.
NPNF The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. Edited by Philip Schaff, et al. Albany,
OR: Sage Software, 1996.
NTApoc2 New Testament Apocrypha, 2 Vols. Ed. W. Schneemelcher, trans. R. Wilson.
Cambridge: James Clarke & Co., 2003. 2nd edn.
OTP The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, 2 Vols. Ed. James Charlesworth.
Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983.
SE Studia Evangelica
WBC Word Biblical Commentary
WCJS World Congress of Jewish Studies

Primary Sources

I Apol. The First Apology of Justin Martyr

ACO Acta Conciliorum Oecumenicorum
Asc. The Ascension of Isaiah
Ant. Jewish Antiquities
b.Giṭ. Tractate Giṭṭin (Babylonian Talmud)
b.Pes. Tractate Pesaḥim (Babylonian Talmud)
b.Šabb. Tractate Šabbat (Babylonian Talmud)
C. Cel. Contra Celsum
CPG Clavis Patrum Graecorum
CSCO Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium
Dial. Dialogue with Trypho
Ep. Arist. The Letter of Aristeas
HCH Ephrem’s Hymns against Heresies (CSCO, vols. 169-170)
HdF Ephrem’s Hymns on Faith (CSCO, vol. 154)
HdP Ephrem’s Hymns on Paradise (CSCO, vol. 174, 1-66)
HNat Ephrem’s Hymns on the Nativity (CSCO, vols. 186–187)
j.Nid. Tractate Niddah (Jerusalemite Talmud)
j.Sanh Tractate Sanhedrin (Jerusalemite Talmud)
j.Yoma Tractate Yoma (Jerusalemite Talmud)
OLP Orientalia Lovaniensia Periodica
PG Patrologiae Cursus Completus, Series Graeca,
PJ Protoevangelium of James
PO Patrologia Orientalis
Q Qur’ān
v
Journals

AHDLMA Archives d’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du Moyen Âge

AnBoll Analecta Bollandiana
AS Aramaic Studies
AS/EA Asiatische Studien - Études Asiatiques
AUSS Andrews University Seminary Studies
Bib Biblica: The Pontifical Biblical Institute’s Journal
BRIIFS Bulletin of the Royal Institute of Inter-Faith Studies
BSOAS Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies
CH Church History: Studies in Christianity and Culture
DI Der Islam
Est. ecl. Estudios Eelesiâsticos
ET The Expository Times
GRBS Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies
HTR Harvard Theological Review
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual
ICMR Islam and Christian–Muslim Relations
IJMES International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies
ITS Indian Theological Studies
JAAR Journal of the American Academy of Religion
JANES Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society
JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society
JBQ Jewish Bible Quarterly
JECS Journal of Early Christian Studies
JES Journal of Ecumenical Studies
JQS Journal of Qur’anic Studies
JRAS Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society
JSAI Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam
JSOT Journal for the Study of the Old Testament
MTSR Method and Theory in the Study of Religion
Mus Le Muséon
NovT Novum Testamentum
NZM Neue Zeitschrift für Missionswissenschaft
OrChr Oriens Christianus
OrSyr L’Orient Syrien
Prooftexts Prooftexts: A Journal of Jewish Literary History
RBPH Revue Belge de Philologie et d’Histoire
RC Religion Compass
RSR Recherches de Science Religieuse
SBLSP Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers
SCJ The Sixteenth Century Journal
SecCent The Second Century
SI Studia Islamica (new series)
TBW The Biblical World
TMPR Totalitarian Movements and Political Religions
TS Theological Studies
TSK Theologische Studien und Kritiken
TMW The Muslim World
VT Vetus Testamentum
WTJ Westminster Theological Journal
vi
WZKM Die Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes
ZDMG Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft

Biblical Abbreviations

Gen Genesis
Exod Exodus
Lev Leviticus
Num Numbers
Deut Deuteronomy
Judg Judges
1 Sam 1 Samuel
2 Sam 2 Samuel
Amos Amos
1 Kgs 1 Kings
2 Chr 2 Chronicles
Neh Nehemiah
Job Job
Ps/Pss Psalm/Psalms
Isa Isaiah
Jer Jeremiah
Ezek Ezekiel
Dan Daniel
Hos Hosea
Joel Joel
Mic Micah
Zech Zechariah
1 Macc 1 Maccabees
2 Macc 2 Maccabees
Matt The Gospel of Matthew
Mark The Gospel of Mark
Luke The Gospel of Luke
John The Gospel of John
Acts Acts of Apostles
Rom The Epistle to the Romans
1 Cor The First Epistle to the Corinthians
2 Cor The Second Epistle to the Corinthians
Gal The Epistle to the Galatians
Eph The Epistle to the Ephesians
Heb The Epistle to the Hebrews
1 Tim The First Epistle to Timothy
1 Pet The First Epistle of Peter
2 Pet The Second Epistle of Peter
Rev Revelation

Old Testament Pseudepigrapha

1 En. 1 Enoch (Ethiopic Apocalypse)

2 En. 2 Enoch (Slavonic Apocalypse)
Jub. Jubilees
vii
 Introduction

On the evening of April 2, 1968, a Muslim bus mechanic named Farouk Muḥammad

Atwa, who worked across from the Church of the Holy Virgin in al-Zeitoun district in Cairo,

saw “a figure dressed in white” on the top of the church dome. Farouk at first thought that this

figure was a woman attempting to commit suicide by throwing herself from the top of the

church. As his friend, who was present with him, went to inform the police, Farouk awoke the

doorkeeper who, upon seeing the figure, cried out, “It is the Virgin!” and immediately called

the priest. The chief of police arrived at the scene after a crowd began to gather on the site. He

tried to disperse the crowd, arguing that the sighting was a mere reflection of the light from the

streetlamps. But the gathering crowd insisted that what they were witnessing was an apparition

of the Virgin Mary, thus rendering these attempts futile.1

This “apparition” lasted only a few minutes, and as it ended things seemed to go back

to normal in that renowned quarter of Cairo. However, a crowd of Christians and Muslims, who

were convinced that the apparition took place, kept gathering at the church for a few days after

the occurrence. Seven days after the first apparition, on the 9th of April, the crowd reported

another short apparition. From that time on apparitions were reported two or three times a week

for the coming fourteen months – sometimes lasting for hours, in front of crowds of up to

100,000 people – until they stopped in 1971.2 During these apparitions the crowds reported that

Mary sometimes appeared with the child Jesus.3

Eyewitnesses report that Christians from all denominations, Muslims, prominent

political officials, and president Nasser himself, all witnessed the apparitions.4 The apparitions

received wide coverage in Arab newspapers. The first formal recognition of the occurrence

1
Cynthia Nelson, “The Virgin of Zeitoun,” Worldview 16, no. 9 (1973): 5.
2
Michael Carroll, The Cult of the Virgin Mary: Psychological Origins (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
1986), 212; Maura Hearden, “Lessons from Zeitoun: A Marian Proposal for Christian-Muslim Dialogue,” JES 47,
no. 3 (2012): 414 and 416.
3
Nelson, “The Virgin,” 8.
4
Hearden, “Lessons from Zeitoun,” 415.
1
came, as might be expected, from the Coptic Orthodox Church. Patriarch Cyril VI had already

issued a committee to investigate the occurrence by May 1968. The examinations of this

committee concluded that these were genuine apparitions of the Virgin Mary. In June, two

months after the beginning of the apparitions, Egypt’s ministry of tourism affirmed them and

began distributing pamphlets about them.5

A Coptic folktale relates that before the apparitions began to occur, Muslims marked

houses of Christians in that area with red crosses as a massacre was plotted. The tale adds,

however, that when the Virgin appeared she did not heal only Christians, but also Muslims,

touching their hearts as peace reigned again in Egypt, at least for a while.6 The tale is definitely

legendary, similar to many other legends generated by the fertile Coptic imagination throughout

the centuries. Nevertheless, the fact that these apparitions of Mary and the child Jesus are

perceived in popular Coptic consciousness to have saved the Copts from an assault echoes the

factual religious tension that existed in that time.

The apparitions began taking place in Nasser’s Egypt, after the humiliating defeat of the

Six-Day War that marked the fall of secular Arab nationalism, at least in its Nasserite version.

This tragedy pushed Egyptians, Christians and Muslims alike, to turn to religion as their only

lifeline after believing for almost a decade and a half promises of Arab unity under the

leadership of an advancing Egypt. The painful awakening from this alluring dream to the grim

nightmare of a country with a devastated army, economy, and morale rekindled Islamic

fundamentalism within various circles of the society. Islamic fundamentalists were now able to

advocate their notion of an Islamic rule with its all-encompassing worldview, as the ultimate

solution to all the illnesses of the failed secular nationalism that produced these “regimes of the

defeat” (anẓimat al-hazima).7

5
Carroll, The Cult of the Virgin Mary, 212.
6
Rafikgl. “The Virgin Mary Apparition 1968-70 in Zeitoun, Egypt,” YouTube Video, 8:30, May 13, 2009,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMEWxRB-1dc.
7
Bassam Tibi, “Political Islam as a Forum of Religious Fundamentalism and the Religionisation of Politics:
Islamism and the Quest for a Remaking of the World,” TMPR 10, no. 2 (2009): 107-8.
2
 This new reality was obviously a rich soil for interreligious tension, as rumors accusing

Christians of espionage against Egypt during the war spread.8 The antagonism escalated to the

point that Nasser had to deliver a speech in which he commended the bravery and patriotism of

the Coptic soldiers with the hope of preventing the outbreak of violence.9 Fortunately, the

Virgin Mary and the child Jesus “appeared” exactly at the desired time restoring peace and

tranquility between both religious communities.

The Zeitun apparitions were unique in the history of the Marian apparitions because the

majority of the crowd that claimed to witness the apparitions was not Christian, but rather

Muslim. This fact is naturally utilized by those who believe in the reality of these apparitions,

who emphasize that even non-Christians confirm their occurrence.10 This argument, namely

that these apparitions are real because they are confirmed even by Muslims, remains however

weak since Mary is not only revered in Christianity but also in Islam. Mary is the only woman

named in the Qur’ān, which devotes two accounts to the nativity: one in Sūrat Maryam, which

carries Mary’s name, and the other in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. The Qur’ān highlights Mary’s chastity

(Q 21.91; 66.12) and refers to her as chosen by God over all the women of the world (Q 3.42).

Thus, the reactions of the Muslims to whatever vision the crowds might have seen, or believed

they saw, should not be perceived as abnormal.

The excited response of the Egyptian masses to the Zeitun apparitions is deeply linked

with an old Egyptian folk tradition concerning this location and its relation to the nativity. This

renowned tradition, accepted by both Christians and Muslims, relates that the Holy Family

visited this place during their fleeing from Palestine to Egypt, avoiding the horror of King

Herod. This tradition further expounds that during this flight Mary rested beneath a Sycamore

tree, which the local population believes to still exist in the neighborhood of Zeitun. This

8
Hearden, “Lessons from Zeitoun,” 414.
9
Nelson, “The Virgin,” 10.
10
Carroll, The Cult of the Virgin Mary, 212.
3
Sycamore tree became a site of pilgrimage for barren women, both Christian and Muslim, who

place their offerings in its branches and ask for children. 11 Thus, besides the psychological

impact of the Six Days War and the reverence for Mary in both religious communities, the

association of the Zeitoun district with the nativity explains the mass response to the apparition.

Mary and Jesus, as this apparition indicates, have always been central, not only to the

Christian and Muslim traditions, but also to the intersection and interaction between them. This

centrality has been present since the birth of Islam. The qur’ānic nativity accounts which this

research examines shed light on the complex interaction between emerging Islam and

Christianity, as well as other late antique religious and cultural traditions.

Theme

The qur’ānic nativity accounts are found in Sūrat Maryam (Q 19.15-32) and Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān (Q 3.42-47). Sūrat al-Anbiyā’ and Sūrat al-Taḥrīm contain two more references to the

impregnation of Mary (Q 21.91; 66.12). This study will not discuss all of the qur’ānic nativity

accounts but will rather explore only their presentation of Mary’s preparation for the conception

of Jesus. These texts will be examined against the subtext of pagan, Jewish and eastern Christian

sources.

The qur’ānic portrayal of the nativity in Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān is unique

and differs in cardinal ways from the accounts found in the canonical Gospels of Matthew and

Luke. Scholars long ago demonstrated that the uniqueness of the qur’ānic nativity accounts

stems from the fact that they draw upon other sources besides the canonical Gospels. Already

in 1697 Henricus Sike illustrated this specific point in his Evangelium infantiae, vel Liber

11
Nelson, “The Virgin,” 9.
4
apocryphus de infantia Servatoris, in which he highlighted the correspondence between the

qur’ānic nativity and an apocryphal Infancy Gospel whose text he presents.12

The last decades have witnessed a renewed interest in the theme through the

publications of Suleiman Mourad, Cornelia Horn, Gabriel Reynolds, and Stephen Shoemaker.13

These studies shed light on different angles of the interaction between the nativity accounts

found in the Qur’ān and those presented in the Gospel of Luke and certain apocryphal Gospels,

particularly the Protoevangelium of James (henceforth Prot. Jas.). Nevertheless, innovative and

significant as they are, these studies remain limited to the congruence between the qur’ānic

nativity and these Gospel traditions. The current study will illustrate new points of congruence

between the qur’ānic nativity accounts and the Prot. Jas. It will however also demonstrate that

in its recasting of the nativity, the Qur’ān negotiated late antique Arabian pagan traditions as

well, besides Jewish apocryphal traditions, Jewish-Christian traditions, and Eastern Christian

(particularly Syriac) liturgical sources.

The Protoevangelium of James

The importance of the Prot. Jas. for this study demands a basic introduction of this

work. The Prot. Jas. was definitely the most popular and the most influential of all the early

12
Henricus Sike, Evangelium infantiae, vel Liber apocryphus de infantia Servatoris ex manuscripto edidit, ac
latina versione et notis illustravit. Trajecti ad Rhenum: Franciscus Halma et Guiljelmus vande Water, 1697. The
Infancy Gospel that Sike presents in this work contains accounts from various apocryphal Gospels. For a brief
presentation of this work see pages 42-3.
13
See Suleiman Mourad, “On the Qur’anic Stories about Mary and Jesus,” BRIIFS 1, no. 2 (1999): 13-24; Mourad,
“From Hellenism to Christianity and Islam: The Origin of the Palm Tree Story concerning Mary and Jesus in the
Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew and the Qur’ān,” OrChr 86 (2002): 206-16; Mourad, “Mary in the Qur’ān: A
Reexamination of Her Presentation,” in The Qur’ān in Its Historical Context, ed. Gabriel Reynolds (New York:
Routledge, 2008), 163-74; Cornelia Horn, “Intersections: The Reception History of the Protoevangelium of James
in Sources from the Christian East and in the Qur’ān,” Apocrypha 17 (2006): 113-50; Horn, “Mary between Bible
and Qur’an: Soundings into the Transmission and Reception History of the Protoevangelium of James on the Basis
of Selected Literary Sources in Coptic and Copto-Arabic and of Art-Historical Evidence Pertaining to Egypt,”
ICMR 18, no. 4 (2007): 509-38; Horn, “Syriac and Arabic Perspectives on Structural and Motif Parallels Regarding
Jesus’ Childhood in Christian Apocrypha and Early Islamic Literature: The ‘Book of Mary,’ the Arabic
Apocryphal Gospel of John and the Qur’ān,” Apocrypha 19 (2008): 267-91; Gabriel Reynolds, The Qur’ān and
Its Biblical Subtext (New York: Routledge, 2010), 130-47; Stephen Shoemaker, “Christmas in the Qur’ān: The
Qur’ānic Account of Jesus’ Nativity and Palestinian Local Tradition,” JSAI 28 (2003): 11–39.
5
Christian apocryphal works on late antique and medieval theology and culture.14 Constituting

the earliest written elaboration of the canonical infancy accounts of Matthew and Luke, this

work had an immense influence on various later Infancy traditions.15

The Latin title, Protoevangelium Jacobi, was given to this composition by the renowned

French linguist and intellectual Guillaume Postel, who reintroduced it to the West. Postel

encountered this Gospel first when in one of his journeys to the East he heard it read in churches.

The respect given to this work made Postel believe it to be a part of the biblical canon of the

Eastern Church.16 Postel therefore acquired a manuscript of this Gospel, giving it the name

“Protoevangelium,” indicating his conviction that it was the true original prologue of the Gospel

of Mark and that its contents were older than the canonical Gospels. Postel translated the

manuscript into Latin, and his translation was published by the Swiss Orientalist Theodore

Bibliander in Basel in 1552 under the title Protoevangelium sive de natalibus Jesu Christi et

ipsius Matris virginis Mariae, sermo historicus divi Jacobi minoris.17

Authorship and Provenance

The epilogue of the Prot. Jas. begins with the phrase, “But I James, the one who has

written this account in Jerusalem, hid myself in the wilderness when there was a disturbance at

the death of Herod” (PJ 25.1). The name “James” clearly indicates James the brother of Jesus

(Matt 13.55; Mark 6.3; Gal 1.19), who is recognized by the early Church as one of its “pillars”

(Gal 2.9; Acts 12.17; 15.13; 21.18). The Herod mentioned in this epilogue refers to King Herod,

who died in 4 BCE. Both these statements are meant to establish the author of the narrative as a

14
Bart Ehrman and Zlatko Pleše, The Apocryphal Gospels: Texts and Translations (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2011), 31.
15
James Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament: A Collection of Apocryphal Christian Literature in an English
Translation (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), 48.
16
Boyd Daniels, “The Greek Manuscript Tradition of the Protoevangelium Jacobi,” vol. I (PhD diss., Duke
University, 1956), 2.
17
Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament, 48-49; Daniels, op. cit., 2-3. Bibliander so much accepted Postel’s view
that he introduced the work to the public in a volume which contained, respectively, the Prot. Jas., the Gospel of
Mark, a Life of Mark, and a Greek lexicon of Mark’s Gospel.
6
credible eyewitness of the events of his account, which he claims to write nearby the location

of the occurrences, in the “wilderness” outside Jerusalem (PJ 25.1).18 Nevertheless, the

historical and textual evidence clearly indicate that James, the brother of Jesus, could not have

written this account.19

Once the pseudonymity of the Prot. Jas. is established, the religious and cultural

identities of the author become almost unattainable. On the basis of the Prot. Jas.’s use of the

Septuagint, the parallels it presents with biblical and post-biblical Jewish sources, its general

content, its presentation of certain theological themes, and its geographical references, scholars

have proposed different views concerning the author’s provenance and his relationship to

Judaism. Some have argued that the author was Jewish or Jewish-Christian, or at least

associated with Judaism and Jewish-Christianity, while others have rejected any association

between the author and Judaism.20

Scholarship lacks consensus also regarding the provenance of the Prot. Jas. Pointing

out the poor Greek of the work while maintaining that it incorporates Coptic elements and

makes false geographical references, De Strycker concludes that the author was an Egyptian

ignorant of the geography of Palestine.21 Promoting De Strycker’s argument, Cothenet

maintains that Clement of Alexandria’s and Origen’s knowledge of the Prot. Jas. “plaide en

18
Ronald Hock, The Infancy Gospels of James and Thomas (Santa Rosa, CA: Polebridge, 1995), 8-9.
19
The Prot. Jas. describes how John the Baptist is saved as an infant from Herod’s soldiers when Elizabeth, his
mother, flees with him to the hills. However, as Hock explains, the question concerning John’s fate could have
arisen only after the composition of both canonical Gospels of Matthew and Luke, since the Prot. Jas. utilizes
Matthew’s account of the rescuing of Jesus from the slaughter of the infants by Herod’s soldiers (Matt 2.13-16),
and Luke’s account of Elizabeth’s pregnancy with John (Luke 1.39-45, 57-66). Hock therefore argues that only
when these accounts are considered alongside each other would the rescuing of Jesus from Herod’s soldiers raise
questions as to how John, who was six months older than Jesus, was rescued. The Prot. Jas. answers this question
through its account of Elizabeth’s escape with John to the hills and the account of the martyrdom of Zechariah,
who refuses to disclose John’s place (PJ 22.3-23.3). However, since James died in 62 C.E., before the composition
of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Hock asserts that he could not have been the author of the Prot. Jas. See
Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 9.
20
For a general survey of the main views regarding this theme, see Lily Vuong, Gender and Purity in the
Protevangelium of James (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 44-50.
21
De Strycker appeals to the work’s reference to the wilderness and mountains (PJ 1.4, 4.3), the author’s alleged
confusion between the mountain and the desert (PJ 22.3), and his location of the desert near Jerusalem. See de
Strycker, La Forme la plus ancienne du Protévangile de Jacques (Bruxelles: Société des Bollandistes, 1961), 353-
4 and 422-3.
7
faveur de l’Egypt comme lieu d’origine.”22 Malcolm Lowe, however, argued contrary to De

Strycker that the Prot. Jas.’s geographic references and its use of specific terminology indicate

that the author was probably a Palestinian Jew.23

More arguments have been given in support of a Syrian provenance. Thus, Harm Smid

proposes Syria, and more particularly Antioch, as the original birthplace of the work, invoking

its reference to laurel trees (PJ 2.4, 3.1), which are associated in Greek mythology with the

temple of Apollo in the vicinity of Antioch.24 Ron Cameron also suggests Syria as most

probable, since the Prot. Jas. harmonizes Gospel traditions and since various Gospel harmonies

originated in Syria.25 James Elliott and George Zervos argue for a Syrian provenance on the

basis of the correspondence between Prot. Jas. and The Ascension of Isaiah, Ignatius of

Antioch’s Epistle to the Ephesians, and the Odes of Solomon.26

The Purposes of the Prot. Jas.

The main purpose behind the composition of the Prot. Jas. is encomiastic: to praise and

glorify Mary.27 This is displayed in the work’s introduction of the miraculous birth of Mary, its

22
Edouard Cothenet, “Le Protévangile de Jacques: Origine, Genre et Signification d’un Premier Midrash Chrétien
sur la Nativité de Marie,” ANRW II, 25.6 (1988): 4267.
23
Malcolm Lowe, “IOYΔAIOI of the Apocrypha: A Fresh Approach to the Gospels of James, Pseudo-Thomas,
Peter and Nicodemus,” NovT 23, no. 1 (1981): 59-62 and 70.
24
Smid is here developing the argument of Conrady, who had already in the 19th-century suggested Syria as the
provenance of the Prot. Jas. See Ludwig Conrady, “Das Protevangelium Jacobi in neuer Beleuchtung,” TSK 62
(1889): 728-83. Smid opposes de Strycker’s assertion of Egypt as the provenance of the Prot. Jas., arguing that
the Levant has similar mountains and deserts. He explains that in Greek mythology, Daphne is turned into a laurel
tree while escaping from Apollo. The sanctuary of Apollo built at Daphne, a suburb of Antioch, which stood in
the midst of a wood that contained cypress and laurel trees. Smid further emphasizes the beauty of the location of
this sanctuary and suggests that the author of the Prot. Jas. might have had it in mind when portraying Anna as
sitting in the garden below a laurel tree (PJ 2.4-31). See Harm Smid, Protevangelium Jacobi: A Commentary
(Assen: Van Gorcum, 1965), 20-22 and 175-6.
25
Ron Cameron, ed., The Other Gospels: Non-Canonical Gospel Texts (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1982),
108-9. Cameron adds, however, that Asia Minor, Rome and Egypt are not impossible places of origin.
26
Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament, 49; George Zervos, “An Early Non-Canonical Annunciation Story,”
SBLSP 36 (1997): 687-8. For a discussion of the parallels between the Prot. Jas. and The Ascension of Isaiah see
pages 289-93.
27
See Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 14-21. Hock states that, “instead of an apologetic purpose for the Infancy Gospel
of James, an encomiastic one is worth considering. In other words, when viewed from this perspective, defending
Mary becomes a secondary, even incidental, purpose; rather, the authors primary purpose was to praise Mary,”
ibid., 16.
8
strong emphasis on her purity, the virginal conception of Jesus, and its indication of the

virginitas in partu – all of which are essential for the development of later Mariological

doctrines.28 The glorification of Mary in the Prot. Jas. entails however two other vital purposes:

filling gaps left by the canonical Gospels, and responding apologetically to polemical claims

against Jesus and particularly Mary.

The author of the Prot. Jas. clearly knows the infancy narratives of the Gospels of

Matthew and Luke and attempts to interpret some of their themes.29 Furthermore, since these

Gospels say little of Joseph and, more importantly, Mary and the infant Jesus, the author of the

Prot. Jas. seeks, in a manner similar to the authors of other Infancy Gospels, to “fill in the gaps”

of their infancy narratives. Curiosity about the life of Mary before and after the nativity, along

with the growth of biographical literature devoted to prominent personalities, including women,

in late antiquity, definitely contributed to the composition of the Prot. Jas. as well as other

Marian apocrypha.30

The Prot. Jas. furthermore responds to widespread anti-Christian polemics against Jesus

and Mary. Origen lists most of these polemics in Contra Celsum, where he attributes to Celsus

(the pagan author of The True Doctrine [Αληθής λόγος]), the composition of the following

fictional conversation between a certain Jew and Jesus:

After this he [Celsus] represents the Jew as having a conversation with Jesus

himself and refuting him on many charges, as he thinks: first, because he

fabricated the story of his birth from a virgin; and he reproaches him because he

came from a Jewish village and from a poor country woman who earned her

living by spinning. He says that she was driven out by her husband, who was a

28
Oscar Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” in NTApoc2, vol. I, 425.
29
For the acquaintance of the author of the Prot. Jas. with the Gospels of Matthew and Luke see Willem Vorster,
“The Protevangelium of James and Intertextuality,” in Text and Testimony: Essays on New Testament and
Apocryphal Literature in Honour of A. F. J. Klijn, ed. Tjitze Baarda et al. (Kampen: J. H. Kok, 1988), 268-9.
30
See Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 3; Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 416-8; Hans-Josef Klauck, The Apocryphal
Gospels: An Introduction, trans. Brian McNeil (London: T&T Clark International, 2003), 64; Vuong, Gender and
Purity, 52.
9
 carpenter by trade, as she was convicted of adultery. Then he says that after she

had been driven out by her husband and while she was wandering about in a

disgraceful way she secretly gave birth to Jesus. And he says that because he

was poor he hired himself out as a workman in Egypt, and there tried his hand

at certain magical powers on which the Egyptians pride themselves; he returned

full of conceit because of these powers, and on account of them gave himself the

title of God.31

Responding to these claims, Origen writes the following:

Let us return, however, to the words put into the mouth of the Jew, where the

mother of Jesus is described as having been turned out by the carpenter who was

betrothed to her, as she had been convicted of adultery and had a child by a

certain soldier named Panthera. Let us consider whether those who fabricated

the myth that the virgin and Panthera committed adultery and that the carpenter

turned her out, were not blind when they concocted all this to get rid of the

miraculous conception by the Holy Spirit.32

It is unintelligible from these passages whether Celsus makes any specific reference to

Panthera or whether Origen ascribes to Celsus such reference.33 It is however not surprising

that Origen would present Celsus as ascribing these anti-Christian claims to a Jew, since such

claims originate in Jewish, and not pagan, literature.

Rabbinic traditions include very similar references to Jesus, as is evident from the

following discussion in the Tractate Šabbat from the Babylonian Talmud:

We learned in the mishna: If one unwittingly scratches letters on his flesh on

Shabbat, Rabbi Eliezer deems him liable to bring a sin-offering and the Sages

31
C. Cel. I:28.
32
C. Cel. I:32.
33
The name “Panthera” is sometimes written as “Pandeira” or “Pandera.”
10
 deem him exempt. It was taught in a baraita that Rabbi Eliezer said to the

Rabbis: Didn’t the infamous ben Stada take magic spells out of Egypt in a

scratch on his flesh? They said to him: He was a fool, and you cannot cite proof

from a fool. That is not the way that most people write. Incidentally, the Gemara

asks: Why did they call him ben Stada, when he was the son of Pandeira? Rav

Ḥisda said: His mother’s husband, who acted as his father, was named Stada,

but the one who had relations with his mother and fathered him was named

Pandeira. The Gemara asks: Wasn’t his mother’s husband Pappos ben Yehuda?

Rather, his mother was named Stada and he was named ben Stada after her. The

Gemara asks: But wasn’t his mother Miriam, who braided women’s hair? The

Gemara explains: That is not a contradiction. Rather, Stada was merely a

nickname, as they say in Pumbedita: This one strayed [setat da] from her

husband.34

This Talmudic text appears in the context of a rabbinic discussion concerning

permissions and prohibitions regarding writing. The references to Pandeira and Miriam clearly

disclose the polemics of this semi-ciphered discussion. The anonymity of the child referred to

as “ben (son of) Stada” or “son of Pandeira” does not conceal the fact that this Talmudic text is

clearly referring to the Jesus of the New Testament, since other Talmudic citations refer to Jesus

explicitly as “son of Pandeira (or Pandera).”35 The passage therefore implies that Jesus took

“magic spells out of Egypt in a scratch on his flesh.” The rabbis, however, defining this “ben

Stada” as a “fool,” assert that his actions cannot be accepted as the basis for a rule. In this

context, the Talmudic text “incidentally” raises the question as to why this individual was called

“ben Stada, when he was the son of Pandeira?” to which it offers two answers. The first answer,

34
b.Šabb. 104b.
35
See Peter Schäfer, Jesus in the Talmud (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2007), 19, 47, 56-57. For the
translation of the specific reference to Jesus as “Jesus son of Pandera” in different manuscripts see Ibid., 138-9.
11
attributed to Rabbi Ḥisda, expounds that Stada was his mother’s husband while Pandeira was

her lover. Subsequently, the text presents an alternative tradition suggesting that the mother’s

husband was called Pappos ben Yehuda and explaining that she was called Stada and therefore

her son was called ben Stada. The second answer explains that “Stada” was merely an epithet

of Miriam, “who braided women’s hair.” This reference to Mary as braiding women’s hair is

clearly meant to imply the indecency of her behavior. Analogously, the title “Stada” seems to

derive from the Hebrew root saṭah (Aram. sṭy) which means deviation from the right path, and

in this context clearly indicates unfaithfulness.36

The references to Pappos ben Yehuda and to Mary’s braided hair underscore this text’s

connection to the following passage in the Tractate Giṭṭin from the Babylonian Talmud that is

devoted to the theme of divorce:

It is taught in a baraita that Rabbi Meir would say: Just as there are different

attitudes with regard to food, so too, there are different attitudes with regard to

women. With regard to food, you have a person who, when a fly falls into his

cup, he throws out the wine with the fly and does not drink it. And this is

comparable to the demeanor of Pappos ben Yehuda with regard to his wife, as

he would lock the door before his wife and leave so that she would not see any

other man.

And you have a person who, when a fly falls into his cup, he throws out the fly

and drinks the wine. And this is comparable to the demeanor of any common

man, whose wife speaks with her siblings and relatives, and he lets her do so.

And you have a man who, when a fly falls into his serving bowl, he sucks the

fly and eats the food. This is the demeanor of a bad man, who sees his wife going

out into the street with her head uncovered, and spinning in the marketplace

36
Ibid., 16-8.
12
 immodestly, and with her garment open from both sides, and bathing with men,

and ignores it.37

Compared with the Tractate Šabbat, this text seems to indicate Mary twice. Firstly, it refers to

the wife of Pappos ben Yehuda, who is locked up by her husband lest she see other men.

Secondly, it portrays the wife who goes into the street “with her head uncovered,” and spins in

the marketplace while wearing an open garment, and bathes with men, while her husband

ignores her behavior.

Thus, it is obvious that most of Celsus’s references to Mary, her husband, her lover, and

Jesus correspond in one way or another with analogous references in Talmudic passages,

probably composed in the fourth century. This suggests that these Talmudic sources and Celsus

both draw upon an earlier Jewish polemical tradition that presents Jesus as the illegitimate child

of Mary from her adulterous relationship with her lover, Pandera.38

The themes of the Prot. Jas. respond to the polemical claims of Celsus and these

Talmudic texts.39 Mary is thus not “a poor country woman who earned her living by spinning.”

Rather, her father Joachim “was a very wealthy man … who used to offer a double portion of

his gifts to the Lord” (PJ 1.1), and Mary is depicted as only spinning a part of the Temple veil

(PJ 10.2-11.1, 12.1). Joseph is not Mary’s husband, nor is he a mere carpenter. Rather, he is

Mary’s guardian and he is a builder and contractor (PJ 9). Mary was not involved in an

adulterous relationship, nor was she “convicted of adultery.” Rather, Mary’s life is sanctified

from her birth onward, and she is protected from any form of defilement. Furthermore, though

accused of committing adultery, Mary is exonerated by the high priest after she is tested by the

“water of refutation” (PJ 16.2-3). The story of the virgin birth is not a fabrication, and Mary did

not “secretly” give birth to Jesus after she “had been driven out by her husband and while she

37
b.Giṭ. 90a.
38
Schäfer, Jesus in the Talmud, 20.
39
See Smid, Protevangelium Jacobi, 15-17. Van Stempvoort suggests that the Prot. Jas. is responding particularly
to the polemical claims presented by Celsus. See Pieter van Stempvoort, “The Protoevangelium Jacobi, the Sources
of its Theme and Style and their Bearing on its date,” in SE III, part II, 413-5.
13
was wandering about in a disgraceful way.” Rather, Joseph accompanied Mary throughout the

journey to Bethlehem (PJ 17); and though she gave birth to Jesus in a secluded cave, this event

was witnessed by Joseph and the midwife (PJ 19.2). Mary’s virginity is furthermore explicitly

reaffirmed in three incidents. First, after she becomes pregnant, an angel appears to Joseph in a

dream informing him that “that which is in her [Mary] comes from the Holy Spirit” (PJ 14.2).

Second, after the midwife witnesses Mary giving birth, she informs Salome that “A virgin has

given birth contrary to her natural condition” (PJ 19.3). And third, when Salome tries to

examine whether Mary is still a virgin after giving birth, her hand falls away burning, and she

confesses to not trusting God (PJ 19.1). Jesus does not acquire magical powers in Egypt, on

account of which he gives himself the title of God. Rather, shortly after his birth, Jesus heals

Salome, who also worships him (PJ 20.4). The magi also come from the East to worship him

(PJ 21.1-2).

The Date of the Prot. Jas., Its Translations and Transmission

Scholars have suggested various dates for the Prot. Jas., ranging from the mid-second

century CE to the fifth century CE. A later date was more accepted in the earlier phases of the

twentieth century. However, the discovery of the earliest known complete manuscript, known

as Papyrus Bodmer V, in 1952 and its publication in 1958 motivated scholars to seek evidence

for an earlier date.40 Scholars subsequently emphasized the familiarity of second- and third-

century Church Fathers, particularly Clement of Alexandria (ca. 150–215) and Origen (ca. 185–

40
Testuz first dated the Papyrus Bodmer V to the third century; its dating to the fourth century was accepted later.
See Michel Testuz, ed., Papyrus Bodmer V: Nativité de Marie (Cologny-Geneva: Bibliotheca Bodmeriana, 1958),
10. De Strycker explained that the Papyrus Bodmer V could be attributed to the third century, but eventually
concluded that it should be dated to the first half of the fourth century. See de Strycker, La Forme, 14 and n. 3.
For a discussion of the correspondence and the disagreement between Testuz and de Strycker on this theme, see
George Zervos, “The Protevangelium of James and the Composition of the Bodmer Miscellaneous Codex:
Chronology, Theology, and Liturgy,” in “Non-canonical” Religious Texts in Early Judaism and Early
Christianity, ed. Lee McDonald and James Charlesworth (New York: T & T Clark, 2012), 178-81.
14
254), with the Prot. Jas. shifting the consensus in favor of earlier dates, spanning from the late

second century to the early third century CE.41

Scholars almost unanimously agree that the Prot. Jas. was originally composed in

Greek.42 However, due to its immense popularity, it was translated into numerous other

languages.43 Four manuscripts have survived of a Syriac translation that seems to have

originated in the fifth century.44 There is a version of the work in Ethiopic, and traces of a

Coptic translation survive in two fragments from the tenth and eleventh centuries.45 The earliest

evidence for an Arabic translation, probably from the Greek Vorlage, was found in manuscript

dating to the tenth century.46 Beside this translation, Graf provides an overview of seven Arabic

and five Karshuni manuscripts, some of which comprise a translation of the Prot. Jas., others

of which are an expanded version of the work, and others a recasting of it. The oldest of these

translations and compositions dates to the fifteenth century.47 Graf has also found other sermons

or homilies that contain excerpts or abbreviated versions of the Prot. Jas.48 The Prot. Jas. was

41
Vuong, Gender and Purity, 32; Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 11; Paul Foster, “The Protevangelium of James,”
in The Non-Canonical Gospels, ed. Paul Foster (New York: T & T Clark, 2008), 112-3. The earliest date for the
Prot. Jas. was suggested by de Strycker and Zervos, who dated the work to the second half of the second century.
De Strycker pointed out four linguistic and thematic parallels between the Prot. Jas. and Justin Martyr’s First
Apology and Dialogue with Trypho, on the basis of which he argues for the dependence of the Prot. Jas. upon
Justin. See de Strycker, “Le Protévangile de Jacques: Problèmes Critiques et Exégétiques,” in SE III, part II, 353.
For a discussion of the four points of correspondence that de Strycker points out between the Prot. Jas. and Justin’s
work, see George Zervos, “Dating the Protoevangelium: The Justin Martyr Connection,” SBLSP 33 (1994): 419.
Zervos, relying on the work of de Strycker, argued oppositely that these parallels indicate the dependence of Justin
on a redacted text of the Prot. Jas. Zervos, therefore, suggested that the earliest date for the composition of the
Prot. Jas. is 80–90 C.E., which is the period in which the Gospels of Matthew and Luke discussed the virgin birth
of Jesus. He suggested that the latest date for its composition is 150–160 C.E., the time of Justin’s activity as
author. See ibid., 415-34.
42
Daniels, “The Greek Manuscript Tradition,” vol. I, 13-14; Ehrman and Pleše, The Apocryphal Gospels, 35. The
hypothesis of Greek origin is supported by the almost 150 Greek manuscripts in which the work survived,
including the Papyrus Bodmer V. See Ehrman and Pleše, The Apocryphal Gospels, 31; Cullmann, “Infancy
Gospels,” 421.
43
For a list of the most significant manuscripts and translations of the Prot. Jas. into ancient languages see Elliott,
The Apocryphal New Testament, 52-5.
44
See Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 421-2.
45
Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 422; De Strycker, who rejected the notion of a Levantine provenance of the Prot.
Jas. and favored the idea of late second-century Egypt as the place of its origin, surmised the existence of a Sahidic
version, dating prior to 450 CE, which he estimated would be one of the earliest witnesses for the Prot. Jas. See
de Strycker, La Forme, 419-21.
46
Gérard Garitte, “Protevangelii Jacobi versio Arabica antiquior,” Mus 86 (1973): 377-96.
47
Georg Graf, Geschichte der christlichen arabischen Literatur, vol. I (Città del Vaticano: Biblioteca Apostolica
Vaticana, 1944), 224-5.
48
Ibid., 225.
15
further translated into Georgian, Armenian, and especially Slavonic, which has preserved 169

manuscripts of the work.49

The Greek text of the Prot. Jas. was first published by the Lutheran polymath Michael

Neander in Basel in 1564 in an anthology of New Testament Apocrypha.50 In 1853, Constantine

von Tischendorf produced a new eclectic Greek edition of the text of the Prot. Jas. on the basis

of eighteen late medieval manuscripts. Tischendorf’s edition remained the standard and most

translated edition for more than a century until the discovery of Papyrus Bodmer V in 1952,

and its publication in 1958 by Michel Testuz in Geneva.51

The publication of Papyrus Bodmer V initiated a new phase in the study of the Greek

tradition of the Prot. Jas. Thus, only three years after its publication Émile De Strycker

published his monumental work, La forme la plus ancienne du Protévangile de Jacques, in

which he attempted to present the most ancient form of the text by integrating evidence from

Bodmer V along with other Greek manuscripts and versions into one text. His investigation led

him to the conclusion that certain alterations were introduced to the text before the Bodmer V

manuscript was written.52 The variances found between the different surviving manuscripts of

the Prot. Jas., both the major and the minor, suggest that De Strycker’s quest for finding or

reconstructing the “original” text of the work is an unobtainable task.53 This study will use the

text provided by De Strycker and its English translation produced by Bart Ehrman and Zlatko

Pleše.54

49
Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 422.
50
Irena Backus, Historical Method and Confessional Identity in the Era of the Reformation (Leiden: Brill, 2003),
226.
51
Ehrman and Pleše, The Apocryphal Gospels, 32; Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 421.
52
Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 421.
53
Ehrman and Pleše, The Apocryphal Gospels, 33.
54
The text translated by Ehrman and Pleše contains however a longer version of PJ 18.1-21.3, which is shortened
in the Bodmer V. See ibid., 35.
16
The Prot. Jas.’s Influence on Feasts and Liturgy

Though never regarded as canonical, the Prot. Jas. had a great influence on the Church

in the West and more so in the East. In the West the Prot. Jas. was condemned due to its

dismissal of Joseph’s virginity, stating that he had children from a previous marriage.55

Nevertheless, the Prot. Jas. was reintroduced to the West in the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew,

which contains a systematic rewriting of its account along with the Infancy Gospel of Thomas

and other sources.56 In the East the work enjoyed greater popularity, being held in very high

esteem from the beginning, as is clear from its use by Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria,

and Origen.57

The Prot. Jas. had a significant influence on Christian feasts and liturgies. It provided

the location of the first Marian feast, the Memory of the Theotokos – known also as the Memory

of Mary and the Memory of the Virgin – which initiated the liturgical cult of Mary.58 The Prot.

Jas.’s narrative furthermore provided the themes for the feasts of the Nativity of Mary, the

Entrance of the Theotokos, the feast of St. Joachim and St. Anna, and the Conception of St.

Anna, which are celebrated in the Eastern and the Western churches. The Prot. Jas. therefore

inspired numerous Christmas accounts, hymns, homilies, liturgical antiphons, responsories, and

blessings.59

55
Jerome condemned the Prot. Jas. particularly on this point, since its emphasis on Mary’s virginitas post partum
was not sufficient for him, as he wished to emphasize the perpetual virginity not only of Mary but also of Joseph.
Jerome therefore believed that Jesus’ “brothers” should have been referred to as cousins. The Prot. Jas. was
officially condemned in 405 by Pope Innocent I in one of his letters to Exuperius, the bishop of Toulouse, and
again in the sixth century by the Pseudo-Gelasian decree known as the Decretum Gelasianum. Ehrman and Pleše,
The Apocryphal Gospels, 31-2.
56
Conrad Leyser, “From Maternal Kin to Jesus as Mother: Royal Genealogy and Marian Devotion in the Ninth‐
century West” in Motherhood, Religion, and Society in Medieval Europe, 400–1400: Essays Presented to
Henrietta Leyser, eds. Conrad Leyser and Lesley Smith (Farnham: Ashgate, 2011), 31-2. Extracts found in other
works reveal that there was also a Latin translation of the Prot. Jas. See Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 422.
57
Vuong discusses the Eastern Fathers’ use of the Prot. Jas. in the context of its dating. See Vuong, Gender and
Purity, 32-9.
58
Pierre Jounel, “The Year,” in The Church at Prayer, vol. IV, The Liturgy and Time, eds. Aimé Martimort et al.
(Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1986), 131.
59
Ignazio Calabuig, “The Liturgical Cult of Mary in the East and West,” in Handbook for Liturgical Studies, vol.
V, Liturgical Time and Space, ed. Anscar Chupungco (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2000), 233-4.
17
 The widespread popularity of the Prot. Jas. in Christendom and its immense influence

on the ecclesiastical tradition make it easy to understand how the qur’ānic community could

have encountered the content of this work. However, the Qur’ān’s use of the Prot. Jas. as well

as other Christian traditions indicates a complex process of interaction and modification. This

process is governed and shaped by various factors, some of which can be identified and

explained, as the next section will demonstrate.

Factors that Influence the Qur’ān’s Remodeling of Preceding Accounts

The Qur’ān presents different versions of the accounts found in the traditions upon

which it draws. The Qur’ān’s reintroduction of variants can be traced to several factors. The

most prominent of these is the unique theology of the qur’ānic community and its social and

cultural worldviews. Theology and culture are not always separable. While certain theological

themes are abstract and can be detached from any relation to social and cultural contexts, many

theological beliefs and religious practices are inextricably linked with a religious community’s

culture, as the community shapes its culture and is shaped by it.

The theology of the qur’ānic community is particularly relevant to the nativity, due to

the nature of the account and the characters participating in it. Since the annunciation is central

to the nativity, it is to be expected that the Qur’ān presents a distinct scene in this regard – one

that coincides with its unique notions of theophany and the encounter between man and God.

The central characters of the nativity, namely Mary, Jesus and the angel Gabriel, all maintain a

prominent place in the Qur’ān, which presents them in light of its own Mariology, Christology

and angelology. The Arabian culture of the qur’ānic community is also deeply relevant to the

nativity. This is particularly because at its center is the theme of the pregnancy of an unmarried

woman, Mary.

The Qur’ān’s remolding of preceding accounts is also deeply influenced and dictated by

three literary elements: the Qur’ān’s own orality, the oral format of the sources with which the
18
Qur’ān interacts, and the aural nature in which it presents its accounts to its audience. The

Qur’ān emphasizes that it is a Kitāb, book or scripture, equivalent to the scriptures of “the

People of the Scripture” (Ahl al-Kitāb).60 Notwithstanding this fact, the Qur’ān was born in an

Arabic oral culture in which poetry was perceived as the highest form of art, and its

memorization and recitation were commonly practiced and much esteemed. The Qur’ān was

therefore, from its genesis, intended to function as a collection of oral recitations. This fact is

clearly indicated in the term “Qur’ān” itself which is derived from the root q. r. ’. (.‫ ء‬.‫ ر‬.‫)ق‬

meaning “to recite” or “read aloud.” The word “Qur’ān” was not used in Arabic prior to the

Qur’ān. It might have been derived from the Syriac term qeryānā meaning “reading” or

“lection,” used by the Syriac church in reference to the oral reading from scriptures or from the

liturgy during the service. Rabbinic literature also uses the term qerī’ā, from the same Semitic

root, to indicate the similar act of reading aloud from the miqrā, the Hebrew scriptures. This

interpretation of the word “Qur’ān” as “recitation” is furthermore clearly attested in the Qur’ān

itself and in the Ḥadīth literature.61

The Qur’ān’s modification of preceding accounts is also influenced by the oral nature

of the traditions with which it interacts. Thus, as much as the Qur’ān reflects its Arabian

background, it also reveals the influence of post-biblical literature.62 These cultures were not

exclusive of each other, since the Arabic culture in which the Qur’ān emerged encompassed

Jewish, Christian and other religious communities. The oral interaction between these religious

and cultural groups, for centuries prior to the birth of Islam, produced what might be referred

to as “a common pool of religious traditional material.”63 Liturgy was one of the main channels

60
For more on this theme see page 79.
61
William Graham, “Orality,” EQ, III: 584-6. For the Qur’ān’s use of the term “Qur’ān” to indicate recitation see
Q 17:78; 75:17-8.
62
For a summary of Neuwirth’s view of the Qur’ān’s interaction with both cultures and their literature see pages
68-86.
63
Andrew Bannister, An Oral-Formulaic Study of the Qur’an (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2014), 49-50.
19
through which Christian traditions, and more particularly Marian traditions, were mediated to

the qur’ānic community. Serafim Seppälä puts it as follows:

The easiest and the most common way, even up to our times, to grasp doctrinal

ideas in the Christian East is to go to a feast. In addition to the standard Christian

feasts of the liturgical year, each monastery and village church had its own feast

day, that of the saint or event to the honour of which the church was dedicated.

These were often carnival-like events that attracted large crowds, including non-

Christians, but the liturgy was always the core of the event. At such a feast, one

might encounter Marian themes in the liturgical readings and hymns in the

church, as well as in other songs performed at the celebration after the liturgy,

such as the Syriac dialogue poems. It can be assumed that there would be a festal

icon in the central place in the church. It is to be noted that in the sixth century

the number of churches dedicated to the Mother of God was increasing rapidly,

and new hymns for the feasts were being produced in Greek as well as in Syriac.

One can easily imagine how Arab traders on their way to Mecca would

stop off at a village or monastery to be present when the annual feast was being

celebrated. They would hear hymns being sung to honour the Virgin Mary, first

in the church and then out in the courtyard. At the subsequent feast it would be

the most natural thing for the local priest to explain the purpose of the event to

guests from outside the area. In fact, the very word for ‘feast’ is among the

clearest cases of vocabulary taken from Syriac (‘īdā) into the Qur’an (‘īd), where

it occurs once (Q 5. 114), in a context where Christian influence is particularly

clear. …

My own estimation is that, if the author of the Qur’an had direct contact

with Christian texts, the most likely possibility is that he heard recitation of

Syriac hymns related to liturgical feasts, in addition to Gospel readings from

20
 Syriac Qeryana. This means that, as far as understanding is concerned, he would

have been dependent, in general terms, on later explications. From a

psychological point of view, such an encounter may even have been the main

inspiration behind the Qur’an (leaving aside the question of supernatural

inspiration). Indeed, the name of the Qur’an itself seems to be an outcome of

such encounters, ‘lectionary’ being qeryana in Syriac.64

Another prominent factor that influenced the composition of the Qur’ān is its aural

nature. The exceptionally concise and illusory nature of the qur’ānic accounts clearly indicates

that “the public for whom [the] Muslim scripture was intended could be expected to supply the

missing detail.”65 The qur’ānic community and other communities that constituted the audience

of the Qur’ān were thus clearly familiar with these accounts, to the point that the Qur’ān needed

only to mention them, without providing the full account. This fact is evidenced in the qur’ānic

nativity accounts. Thus, even the longest and most complete of these accounts, found in Sūrat

Maryam (Q 19.15-32), remains abbreviated in comparison to the ones found in the Christian

traditions with which the Qur’ān interacts. This is more so the case in the more concise account

found in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān (Q 3.42-47) and the references in Sūrat al-Anbiyā’ (Q 21.91) and

Sūrat al-Taḥrīm (66.12).

The aural presentation of any written materials naturally demands the introduction of

specific motifs to the text to ensure the reception and comprehension of its message by the

audience. The qur’ānic text, in a manner similar to the biblical text, was produced by authors

who were occupied with the intention of making their message resonate with their listeners.

Robert Alter explicates that the repetitive nature of the biblical text emerges from the requisites

dictated by its oral delivery:

64
Serafim Seppälä, “Reminiscences of icons in the Qur’an?” ICMR 22, no. 1 (2011): 6-7.
65
John Wansbrough, Quranic Studies: Sources and Methods of Scriptural Interpretation (Amherst, NY:
Prometheus Books, 2004), 1.
21
 One does not necessarily have to assume … that the biblical narratives derive

from long-standing oral traditions; for in any case it is altogether likely that they

were written chiefly for oral presentation. As several indications in the Bible

itself suggest, the narratives would typically have been read out from a scroll to

some sort of assembled audience (many of whom would presumably not have

been literate) rather than passed around to be read in our sense. The unrolling

scroll, then, was in one respect like the unrolling spool of a film projector, for

time and the sequence of events presented in it could not ordinarily be halted or

altered, and the only convenient way of fixing a particular action or statement

for special inspection was by repeating it.

The necessities of oral delivery can be imagined in still simpler terms. If

you were a Judean herdsman standing in the outer circle of listeners while the

story of the ten plagues was being read, you might miss a few phases when God

instructs Moses about turning the Nile into blood (Exod. 7:17-18), but you could

easily pick up what you had lost when the instructions were almost immediately

repeated verbatim as narrated action (Exod. 7:20-21). If you were close enough

to the reader to catch every word, you could still enjoy the satisfaction of hearing

each individual term of God’s grim prediction, first stated in the prophetic future,

then restated as accomplished fact, with an occasional elegant variation of the

verbatim repetition through the substitution of a synonym (in verse 18 the

Egyptians are unable to drink the water, nil’u lishtot; in verse 21, they cannot

drink, lo’-yakhlu lishtot).66

66
Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 2011), 112-4. Italics in the first paragraph
are mine.
22
 Alter identifies five main techniques of repetition that the biblical text applies: Leitwort,

motif, theme, sequence of actions, and type-scene.67 These techniques of repetition, as this study

will demonstrate, are also applied in Sūrat Maryam’s nativity account. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān applies

other literary motifs that will also be discussed in this study.

Format and Methodological Approach

The Qur’ān interacts with pagan, Jewish, and Christian traditions in its recasting of the

nativity. These Jewish and Christian traditions are based in interpretive literature: works of

different communities that offer varying interpretations of basic biblical and extra-biblical

themes. The qur’ānic nativity accounts will also be approached as interpretive literature –

compositions of a developing religious community that is engaged in a process of negotiation

with various other religious communities and traditions, seeking to offer its own interpretation

of the themes discussed in its milieu.

The chapters of this study will follow a thematic and chronological order. The second

chapter will discuss Mary’s genealogy. The third chapter will discuss Mary’s nativity and

upbringing as presented in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. Chapters four to seven will follow the presentation

of the subsequent themes on the basis of their presentation in Sūrat Maryam, which precedes

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and, unlike this sūra, offers a complete account of the nativity.68 These chapters

will respectively examine Mary’s withdrawal from her people to an eastern place; her use of a

veil to separate herself from them; the identity of the divine messenger who delivers the

annunciation to her; and the nature of Mary’s encounter with him.

The first two chapters will follow a unique format that will be presented below. Chapters

three to seven will present specific qur’ānic texts relevant to the theme of each chapter, and

each text will be followed by three main sections. The first section will examine the literary

67
Ibid., 119-21.
68
For the chronology of both sūras and their relationship to one another see pages 105-6.
23
elements and motifs that the Qur’ān applies to the discussed text. I will also explore certain

cultural and theological factors that influenced the Qur’ān’s remodeling of the account and the

new theological elements it introduces. This section will mostly rely on Alter’s The Art of

Biblical Narrative and George Savran’s Encountering the Divine, the latter of which offers an

analysis of the literary motifs applied in biblical theophany type-scenes.69 The second section

of each of these chapters will discuss the exposition of the relevant qur’ānic texts by five

prominent Muslim mufassirūn. This section will present their general understanding of the text,

its context, and the specific signification of certain words that it employs. The second section

will also demonstrate the familiarity of some of these mufassirūn with certain pre-qur’ānic

traditions and their use of them in their interpretation of the qur’ānic text. The third section in

each chapter will examine the qur’ānic text in light of late antique traditions. This will entail

the evaluation of corresponding themes and concepts, but I will also discuss the linguistic

details of the texts, including congruent or dissimilar ambiguities, idiosyncratic vocabulary, the

absence or repetition of subjects, and other grammatical and syntactical details. The third

section will further explore theological themes that are not covered in the first section.

The Use of Tafsīr Literature in this Study

Though the qur’ānic texts of the nativity are the main focus of this research, the

presentation of the mufassirūn’s expositions of these texts is necessary for several reasons. The

mufassirūn mastered qur’ānic Arabic and they often illuminate philological aspects, such as

grammatical and syntactical themes and the meanings of specific words and concepts. The

interpretations of these mufassirūn reveal, furthermore, how different Muslim communities

approached the qur’ānic text and understood it. The presentation of these various interpretations

69
See George Savran. Encountering the Divine: Theophany in Biblical Narrative. London: T&T Clark
International, 2005.
24
will therefore ensure the representation of various perspectives on the meaning of the texts,

preventing a partial approach to them.

The presentation of the various mufassirūn’s expositions is also important because their

disagreement over the interpretation of certain themes or concepts could indicate that pre-

qur’ānic traditions bear the key for a more accurate understanding of the text. In certain cases

the mufassirūn themselves sporadically introduce such Jewish or Christian traditions when

commenting on a particular passage in the Qur’ān. This provides, in certain cases, greater

evidence that the Qur’ān was in conversation with these traditions, as the Tafsīr tradition also

had to rely on them in order to explain the specific qur’ānic text.

This study will present the interpretations of five prominent mufassirūn who represent

diverse theological schools spread over different periods and regions. The earliest tafsīr used in

this work is that of the Sunnī mufassir Muqātil ibn Sulaymān. Muqātil was born in the city of

Balkh in Khurāsān, which in the pre-Islamic era was known for its religious diversity and had

a deep influence on his religious views. He subsequently moved to Marw, which was then the

center of ‘Abbāsid propaganda against the Umayyads. Being a Zaydī he might have preferred

the former to the latter. Thus, in the early ‘Abbāsid rule he migrated to the political centers in

Iraq: first to Baṣra and then to Baghdad. Certain sources mention that he was a frequent visitor

to the court of the ‘Abbāsid caliph al-Manṣūr. He eventually returned to Baṣra, remaining there

till his death in 767/150.70

Tafsīr Muqātil represents the earliest form of qur’ānic exegesis. The author’s main aim

is to present each sūra as a complete whole within the larger text of the Qur’ān, which

constitutes for him a continuous story. Muqātil therefore presents at the beginning of each sūra

a short introductory section entitled maqṣūd (meaning), maḍmūn (content) or ahdāf (goals) al-

sūra, in which he explains its main themes and purposes. Muqātil then examines the verses,

70
Mun’im Sirry, “Muqātil b. Sulaymān and Anthropomorphism,” SI 3 (2012): 53-4.
25
breaking them into small units as he comments on each word and expression. His interpretation

does not indicate reliance on any complex hermeneutical tools. The main principle to which he

adheres is that of tafsīr al-Qur’ān bi-l-Qur’ān meaning “the interpretation of the Qur’ān by

means of the Qur’ān.” He refers to other languages and dialects to explain the foreign

vocabulary in the Qur’ān, and he offers etymologies for biblical and pre-Islamic Arabic names.

Notwithstanding this fact, Muqātil is not interested in the philological, grammatical, or stylistic

aspects of the text. Rather, an ample part of his comments deals with asbāb al-nuzūl, explaining

the context in which each phrase or passage appeared and the events and themes to which they

refer. The materials that Muqātil presents in this regard are often related to Muḥammad’s life

or to Jewish and Christian traditions he believes to be referenced in the qur’ānic text.71

The second tafsīr to be used is that of the Twelver Shī‘ī scholar Abū al-Hasan al-

Qummī. Besides the fact that he lived during the third/tenth century, close to nothing is known

about al-Qummī’s life. Biographical sources do not even mention the dates of birth or death.

What is certain is that his family was originally from Kūfa and migrated to Qumm, where his

father Ibrāhīm al-Qummī, a prominent Imāmī scholar, became a distinguished member of the

Shī‘ī community.72

Tafsīr al-Qummī is a significant early Shī‘ī tafsīr. Unlike other Shī‘ī commentaries, it

does not restrict itself to the interpretation of specific “Shī‘ī” verses, nor does it refrain from

evaluating the cited materials. Qummī voices his views regarding his sources. He also includes

many legal themes and Sīra traditions. As is expected from a Shī‘ī scholar, Qummī highlights

the supremacy of Ahl al-Bayt, the Prophet’s family and the Imāms descending from them, in

his tafsīr.73

71
Kees Versteegh, “Grammar and exegesis: The origins of Kufan grammar and the Tafsīr Muqātil,” DI 67, no. 2
(1990): 210-18.
72
Meir Bar-Asher, Scripture and Exegesis in Early Imāmī-Shiism (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 33-35.
73
Ibid., 35-36.
26
 The third tafsīr to be used in this work is that of Muḥammad ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī. Al-

Ṭabarī was born in the city of Āmul in the northern Persian region of Ṭabaristan in 224 or 225

(838-40 AH). Having memorized the Qur’ān at a young age, he was sent at the age of twelve to

al-Rayy to continue his education under prominent teachers of Sīra and Tafsīr. Five years later,

at the age of seventeen, al-Ṭabarī moved to Baghdād, then one of the greatest centers of Islamic

culture. The city in which al-Ṭabarī arrived had witnessed the prolonged conflict between the

Mu‘tazalites and the “traditionalists,” ahl al-ḥadith, which ended with the victory of the latter

under the leadership of the renowned Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 241/855). Al-Ṭabarī had originally

moved to Baghdād with the hope of studying under ibn Ḥanbal, who died before his arrival.

Nevertheless, Baghdād became al-Ṭabarī’s main home, from which he went on intellectual

expeditions to various places such as al-Baṣra, al-Kūfa, Waṣiṭ, and the different regions of

Egypt and Syria. The influence of Ibn Ḥanbal’s school on Baghdād remained predominant long

after his death, and al-Ṭabarī and his students were often harassed by the Ḥanbalis due to al-

Ṭabarī’s introduction of a competing school of thought known as al-Jarīrīyah, which did not

survive past the eleventh century. Al-Ṭabarī eventually died in Baghdād in 310/923.74

The tafsīr of al-Ṭabarī is entitled Jāmi‘ al-Bayān ‘an Ta’wīl Āy al-Qur’ān (The

Comprehensive Clarification of the Interpretation of the Verses of the Qur’ān). This work

inaugurates classical Islamic exegesis, compiling two and a half centuries of Muslim

interpretation. Al-Ṭabarī divides the qur’ānic verses into three categories: those that can only

be interpreted by Muḥammad himself, those whose meaning is known only to God, and those

that can be explicated by those who master the language of the Qur’ān. Al-Ṭabarī naturally

depends on numerous exegetical ḥadiths in his tafsīr, particularly in his exposition of verses

which he considers as belonging to the first of these categories.75

74
Jane McAuliffe, Qur’ānic Christians: An Analysis of Classical and Modern Exegesis (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1991), 38-40; Herbert Berg, The Development of Exegesis in Early Islam: The Authenticity of
Muslim Literature from the Formative Period (London: Routledge, 2000), 120-22.
75
Jane McAuliffe, “Qur’ānic Hermeneutics: The Views of al-Ṭabarī and Ibn Kathīr,” in Approaches to the History
of the Interpretation of the Qur’ān, ed. Andrew Rippin (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 48-50.
27
 Al-Ṭabarī’s extensive presentation of preceding traditions, and particularly ḥadiths, led

to the designation of Jāmi‘ al-Bayān as the example par excellence of al-tafsīr bi-l-ma’thūr

(tradition-based interpretation). This term is used in classical and modern Muslim literature as

opposed to al-tafsīr bi-l-ra’y (opinion-based interpretation), which means interpretation that

depends on human reason and intellect and which is often attributed to the Mu‘tazalites. This

classification of al-Ṭabarī’s interpretation remains however rather too simplistic, for despite all

his dependence on tradition he is no mere compiler. Thus, al-Ṭabarī discusses the different

readings (qira’āt) of phrases, examining their accuracy in light of the rules of grammar and

tradition. He also exercises personal judgement when deciding which ḥadiths are to be included

in the tafsīr as possible interpretations of the qur’ānic passages and which should be excluded.

Al-Ṭabarī furthermore chooses the order in which he presents these ḥadiths, contextualizes

them, comments on them and in certain cases expresses his personal opinion as to which

interpretation is the most probable. Through the application of these means, al-Ṭabarī leads his

reader to the interpretation he perceives to be orthodox.76 Furthermore, al-Ṭabarī applies very

careful methods for the exposition of verses which he considers as belonging to the third

category, namely those that can be interpreted by anyone who possesses knowledge of qur’ānic

Arabic.77

Thus, despite the significant place and function that tradition plays in Jāmi‘ al-Bayān,

the label tafsīr bi-l-ma’thūr remains rather a simplistic definition of al-Ṭabarī’s exegesis. The

problematic nature of the classification of the tafāsīr under the categories of al-tafsīr bi-l-

ma’thūr or al-tafsīr bi-l-ra’y is worth emphasizing here before we move on to the next tafsīr.

Though this distinction between the tafāsīr is partly based on the different methods applied by

the mufassirūn, it remains primarily the product of the historical, ideological conflict between

76
Berg, The Development of Exegesis, 126-9.
77
Al-Ṭabarī calls for the application of three main tools: “comprehension of inflectional functioning … recognition
of the inherent significations of nouns which are not homonyms … [and understanding of] the exclusionary nature
of descriptive qualifiers.” McAuliffe, “Qur’ānic Hermeneutics,” 50.
28
the rival schools of Islamic exegesis. Walid Saleh puts it this way:

The distinction goes beyond the operative assumptions of medieval Muslim

scholars. These scholars have in many ways managed to convince us to take the

tafsīr bi-al-ma’thūr (tradition-based commentary) and tafsīr bi-al-ra’y (opinion-

based commentary) as intrinsic characteristics of the Qur’ān commentary and

thus as the major categories for understanding it. This division of the tradition

into two forms was meant to convey the notion that one part of the tradition was

authority-based and hence authentic and reliable (tafsīr bi-al-ma’thūr), and the

other whimsical and capricious, using personal opinion as its guide and hence

unreliable (tafsīr bi-al-ra’y). This, however, was an ideological division of the

genre that was aimed at consolidating the mainstream Sunnī interpretive

tradition and undermining the non-Sunnī approaches as well as deviant Sunnī

interpretations. It succeeded well in what it aimed to do, yet it acquired a life of

its own both in tafsīr – and later on, in modern scholarship – that has no basis in

the genre itself.78

The next tafsīr to be used in this study is that of the Mu‘tazalī mutakallim Mahmūd ibn

‘Umar al-Zamakhsharī (d. 538/1144), known as al-Kashshāf. Al-Zamakhsharī was of Persian

origin and was born in 467/1075 in Zamakhshar, the capital of Khawārazm, which by the

eleventh century had become a citadel of Sunnī scholarship. There he studied till the age of

eighteen. The strongest intellectual influence on him seems to have come from Maḥmūd ibn

Jarīr al-Dabbī al-Isbahanī, known as Abū Mudar (d. 507/1113), who is credited with the

introduction of Mu‘tazalism to Khawārazm. Subsequently, al-Zamakhsharī traveled to study

under scholars in Bukhara, Samarqand, Baghdād and Mecca, where he seems to have stayed at

two different periods for a total of five years. During his second visit to Mecca, al-Zamakhsharī

78
Walid Saleh, The Formation of the Classical Tafsīr Tradition: The Qur’ān Commentary of al-Tha‘labī (d.
427/1035) (Brill: Leiden, 2004), 16.
29
composed his tafsīr entitled al-Kashshāf ‘an Ḥaqa’iq Ghawāmiḍ al-Tanzīl wa ‘Uyūn al-Aqāwīl

fī Wujūh al-Ta’wīl (The Unveiler of the True Meaning of the Mysteries of what was Sent Down

and the Choicest Sayings concerning the Faces of Interpretation).79

If Jāmi‘ al-Bayān was perceived in Islamic tradition as the example par excellence of

tafsīr bi-l-ma’thūr, then al-Kashshāf was designated as the example par excellence of tafsīr bi-

l-ra’y. Nevertheless, since these categories remain too abstract, as explained above, this tafsīr,

like many others, cannot simply be pressed into one of them. Being one of the leading

Mu‘tazalite scholars of his generation, al-Zamakhsharī definitely relies on reason in his

interpretation, and his tafsīr expresses the basic tenets of Mu‘tazalism, namely the belief in the

divine justice of God (‘adl) and his absolute unity (tawḥīd) and the freedom of the human will.80

Al-Zamakhsharī’s application of reason is evident in his use of the kalām disputation technique

in his exegesis. According to this method, al-Zamakhsharī presents certain inquiries and

arguments in his discussion of the structure, grammar, and the theological or linguistic meaning

of the text. He subsequently offers the counter-arguments, attempting to offer a conclusion. In

this pattern, known as masā’il wa-ajwiba, the question or the argument is preceded with the

phrase, “If you were to say (in qulta),” and then the answer is preceded with “I would say

(qultu).”81

Al-Zamakhsharī also applies classical principles of hermeneutics and depends on

traditions in his interpretation. One of the prominent exegetical principles he applies is that of

tafsīr al-Qur’ān bi-l-Qur’ān, according to which he explains the ambiguous words and passages

of the Qur’ān by other related or similar texts whose meaning is obvious. Al-Zamakhsharī also

compares the different readings (qirā’āt) of the qur’ānic text. He analyzes the text

grammatically, presenting the various meanings it could hold. Al-Zamakhsharī furthermore

79
McAuliffe, Qur’ānic Christians, 49-50; Andrew Lane, A Traditional Mu‘tazalite Qur’ān Commentary: The
Kashshāf of Jār Allāh al-Zamakhsharī (D. 538/1144) (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 11-12, 26-9.
80
McAuliffe, Qur’ānic Christians, 52-3.
81
Lane, A Traditional Mu‘tazalite Qur’ān Commentary, 140-41.
30
relies on asbāb al-nuzūl to explains the context of certain verses and the meaning of specific

words and concepts. He finally explains the meaning of certain words in the Qur’ān, their

etymology and grammatical conjugation by examining their usage in Arabic poetry, and

common proverbs and sayings.82

The last tafsīr to be discussed here is that of the Persian Sunnī philosopher and

theologian Muḥammad ibn ‘Umar Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī. Al-Rāzī was born in Rayy in 543/1149

or 544/1150, where he received his early education from his father, Ḍiyā’ al-Dīn, who was a

preacher in that town, and Majd al-Dīn al-Jīlī, who instructed him in philosophy. After his

studies at Rayy, al-Rāzī followed al-Jīlī to Marāgha in Adharbāyjān. Al-Rāzī subsequently

travelled to Khwarizm, a region dominated by the Mu‘tazalites at that time. Being an Ash‘arī

Sunnī, his intense debates with the Mu‘tazalites led to his expulsion from that city. He

subsequently encountered similar opposition in Transoxania. After travelling as far as

Samarqand and maybe even to India, al-Rāzī finally settled in Herāt. There Ghiyāth al-Dīn, the

Sulṭān of Ghaznah, gave him permission to open a madrasah. As a teacher he enjoyed a wide

reputation that earned him the title Shaykh al-Islam. His defense of Sunnism resulted in

continuous polemical confrontations. At this stage his main enemies were the Karrāmīs, a

stream of Islam that followed a literalist and anthropomorphic reading of the Qur’ān. The

enmity was so deep that when al-Rāzī died in 606/1209 in Herāt, after becoming seriously ill,

one story claimed that he was poisoned because of his attack on the Karrāmiyya.83

The tafsīr of al-Rāzī is known either as al-Tafsīr al-Kabīr (The Large Commentary) or

as Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb (Keys to the Unknown). This tafsīr relies on traditional methods of

interpretation such as tafsīr al-Qur’ān bi-l-Qur’ān and the Ḥadith literature. However, as an

Ash‘arī, al-Rāzī emphasizes the priority of reason over revelation.84 This tafsīr is particularly

82
Ibid., 118-37.
83
McAuliffe, Qur’ānic Christians, 63-7; Georges Anawati, “Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī,” EI2, II: 752-3.
84
Shalahudin Kafrawi, “Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī’s Methodology in Interpreting the Qur’ān,” (Master’s thesis, McGill
University, 1998), 50-53, 55-57.
31
known for its very systematic structure, which could be compared only to the Summa

Theologiae of Aquinas as a Western parallel. This structure is expressed in al-Rāzī’s division

of each verse into subdivisions presenting various inquiries or propositions (masā’il) regarding

the meaning and function of every word and even particle. The masā’il cover all the possible

linguistic, grammatical and theological interpretations of each word or theme. In these masā’il

al-Rāzī sometimes applies the kalām disputation technique in presenting arguments and their

counter-arguments to refute certain interpretations and reach a final conclusion. Al-Rāzī’s tafsīr

reflects a clear defense of Ash‘arī Sunnism and an explicit anti-Mu‘tazilī position, responding

to claims found in Mu‘tazilite commentaries such as al-Kashshāf.85

The Content of the Chapters

In chapter one, I present a survey of the principal stages in the history of Western

scholarship on the Qur’ān. I begin with a brief discussion of the earliest medieval works on the

Qur’ān and follow their influence on Western scholarship up until the modern period. I

subsequently present an analysis of the birth of Qur’ānic Studies as a modern academic

discipline and examine the Qur’ān’s relationship to the world of late antiquity in prominent

academic studies. I also outline the general views of the major schools of Qur’ānic Studies.

This background will provide the theoretical rubric for all the subsequent chapters.

Chapters two and three discuss themes from the qur’ānic nativity account that are not

nativity themes. Their examination, notwithstanding, illuminates various topics relevant to this

study and lays a foundation for the following chapters. In chapter two, I examine the qur’ānic

references to Mary’s identity in Sūrat Maryam, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and Sūrat al- Taḥrīm (Q 19.28;

3.35-36; 66.12). As this theme has been discussed for centuries, I review the main

interpretations offered by Muslim mufassirūn and modern scholars. A basic explanation of the

85
McAuliffe, Qur’ānic Christians, 67-70.
32
chronological and thematic relationship between Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān will also

be presented. After highlighting the helpful elements in these preceding interpretations of the

qur’ānic references, I will also demonstrate how they fail in providing a coherent explanation.

I will finally introduce possible alternative readings of these texts.

In chapter three, I explore Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s depiction of Mary’s birth and upbringing

(Q 3.35-37). As these themes have also been exhaustively examined in scholarship, I will firstly

present the already illustrated points of correspondence between the discussed qur’ānic verses

and the Prot. Jas. Subsequently, I will illuminate certain aspects of these points while indicating

new points of congruence between the qur’ānic text and the Prot. Jas., as well as other Christian

traditions.

In chapter four, I explore Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of Mary’s withdrawal from her

people towards an “eastern place” (Q 19.16) and her use of a ḥijāb to conceal herself from them

(Q 19.17). I firstly examine the reference to an “eastern place” in light of the perception of the

East as a sacred orientation in Jewish and Christian traditions, and in light of the specific

association of Mary with the East in Christian sources. I also consider the possibility that the

East did constitute the qibla of the early Muslim community at a certain period. In the second

part, I illustrate different aspects of the correspondence between Mary’s use of the ḥijāb in

Sūrat Maryam and her affiliation with the Temple veil in the Prot. Jas. I lastly discuss the

affiliation of Mary with the veil in various ecclesiastical images that might shed light on Q

19.17.

In chapter five, I discuss the identity of the divine messengers who deliver the

annunciation to Mary in Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. I firstly establish, through the

correspondence between the annunciations to Zechariah and Mary presented in Sūrat Maryam

and those found in Luke’s Gospel, that the divine messenger of this sūra is none other than the

angel Gabriel. I then explain this sūra’s depiction of Allah’s reference to this messenger as “Our

Spirit” (Q 19.17) against Second Temple literature and late antique Jewish and Christian
33
traditions. I will subsequently explain, in light of biblical, Christian, and Jewish-Christian

traditions, two unique motifs that Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān introduces in the annunciation to Mary (Q

3.42-44, 45-47): (1) the presentation of a plurality of angels addressing Mary and her response

to a singular figure as “Lord,” and (2) the introduction of an intermediary figure as “Lord” who

also refers to Allah as “Lord.” Throughout this examination I demonstrate that this intermediary

figure is also meant to be the angel Gabriel.

In chapter six, I examine Mary’s interaction with the angels in Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat

Āl-‘Imrān as a preparation for her conception of Jesus. I firstly discuss the elements of the

encounters in light of Gospel traditions, particularly Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. This

examination will demonstrate that Sūrat Maryam introduces the idiosyncratic motif of sexual

tension into the annunciation, indicating its interaction with other traditions. To explain this

motif, I will demonstrate that the Qur’ān borrows themes from the Watchers tradition, which

relates sexual intercourse between fallen angels and human females. I will also illustrate that

the Qur’ān adopts various elements from the pre-Islamic worldview concerning the Jinn, whom

it conflates with the angels, and to whom it also ascribes the ability of sexual interaction with

women. I will finally explain Sūrat Maryam’s introduction of this sexual tension by illustrating

how other late antique works, such as the Prot. Jas. and Ephrem the Syrian’s second Hymn on

the Nativity, are also in conversation with the Watchers tradition in the context of the

annunciation.

34
 Chapter One

The Qur’ān as a Late Antique Text in Western Scholarship

This chapter surveys the major stages in the development of Western scholarship on the

Qur’ān and its relationship to late antiquity. I will first present the main narrative promulgated

in Eastern Christian writings concerning the formation of the Qur’ān and this narrative’s

influence on the development of Western medieval perceptions of qur’ānic origins. The

following section will discuss the development of historical-critical Qur’ān scholarship and the

principles it preserved from medieval studies on the Qur’ān. The third section will discuss the

Qur’ān’s relationship to the world of late antiquity. I will first cover the birth of the concept of

“late antiquity” and its relationship to early Islam in the writings of Alois Riegl and Peter

Brown. I will subsequently present a summary of Angelika Neuwirth’s main arguments

concerning the formation of the Qur’ān as a late antique work as well as the general claims of

revisionist scholarship on qur’ānic origins. I will finally explain the relationship of this study

to the current state of Qur’ānic Studies.

Medieval Discussions of the Origins of the Qur’ān

The claim that the Qur’ān emerged through interaction with preceding religious

traditions, particularly Jewish and Christian, is as ancient as the Qur’ān itself. The Qur’ān states

that it represents a continuation and confirmation of the Torah and the Gospel, sharing the same

divine promise and containing a similar message.86 The Qur’ān furthermore presents the

statements of non-Muslims who argue that Muḥammad was taught his religious teachings by

86
Sūrat al-Tawbah for example states, “[Indeed] Allah has purchased from the believers their souls and their
properties in [return] to that to them is [the reward of] paradise. … [It is] a promise [binding] upon Him [Allah]
which is true in the Torah and the Gospel and the Qur’ān” (Q 9.111). In Q 16.43-44 the Qur’ān claims to contain
a message similar to preceding scriptures. Q 46.12 refers to the Qur’ān as a scripture confirming the scripture of
Moses.
35
others and that the Qur’ān uses and duplicates preceding traditions.87 This latter claim is

subsequently presented in the earliest writings of Christian theologians who lived under Muslim

rule.

John of Damascus is probably the first Christian theologian to write, in the first half of

the eighth century, that the Qur’ān depends on the Jewish and Christian scriptures.88 In his

discussion of the heresy of “the Ishmaelites” in De Haeresibus, in which he refers to several

passages from the Qur’ān, John states:

This man [Muḥammad], after having chanced upon the Old and New Testaments

and likewise, it seems, having conversed with an Arian monk, devised his own

heresy … he gave out that a certain book had been sent down to him from

heaven.89

The tradition that John alludes to here – according to which Muḥammad conversed with

a monk and relied upon biblical traditions in formulating the Qur’ān – was elaborated in the 9th

century Christian Legend of Sergius Baḥīrā.90 This legend was originally written in Syriac but

became exceptionally widespread in the medieval period, as it was translated into Arabic and

Latin.91 The Legend relates that a monk by the name of Sergius Baḥīrā taught Muḥammad the

principal Christian doctrines and instructed him in establishing the new Muslim religion which,

according to this legend, was originally closer to Christianity.92 The Legend emphasizes the

87
Sūrat al-Furqān for example states, “And Those who disbelieved said: ‘This [Qur’ān] is nothing except for a lie
[which] he [Muḥammad] has forged and other people have assisted him on it.’ … And they have said, ‘[The Qur’ān
is] fables of the ancients [which he] has written down, and they are dictated to him morning and evening’” (Q
25.4-5). Cf. Q 6.105; 16.103; 44.14.
88
De Haeresibus was originally the second part of The Fount of Knowledge, which was composed between 743 –
the year in which Cosmas of Naiuma, to whom the work is dedicated, became a bishop – and 749, the probable
year of John’s death. See Frederic Chase, “Introduction,” in John of Damascus, Writings, trans. Frederic Chase
(Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1958), xvii and xxix.
89
See John of Damascus, On Heresies, in John of Damascus, Writings, 153.
90
Barbara Roggema argues that the The Legend of Sergius Baḥīrā does not date to a period later than the reign of
the caliph al-Ma’mūn. See Barbara Roggema, The Legend of Sergius Baḥīrā: Eastern Christian Apologetics and
Apocalyptic in Response to Islam (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 205.
91
For the different versions and recensions of the Legend see ibid., Ch. 8. For the use of the Legend in other works
from the 9th century onwards see ibid., 151-208.
92
For the references to Sergius teaching Muḥammad the basic doctrines of Christianity and Islam, see “The East-
Syrian Recension,” in Roggema, The Legend of Sergius Baḥīrā, 272-83 [14.5-16.13]; “The West-Syrian
Recension,” in ibid., 340-55 [14.5-16.13]; “The Short Arabic Recension,” in ibid., 394-409 [14.5-16.13]; “The
36
Qur’ān’s dependency upon biblical traditions, relating that the monk Sergius handed it over to

Muḥammad or wrote it down for him, and the Jewish scribe Ka‘b corrupted it.93

The Legend was translated into Latin, but its main theme became known in Latin

Christendom primarily due to its appropriation in The Apology of al-Kindī, which became much

more widespread. This latter work was composed in Arabic during the rule of al-Ma’mūn.94

The Apology comes in the form of two letters depicting a fictional correspondence between a

Muslim and a Christian. The first letter is allegedly written by a Muslim named ‘Abdallāh ibn

Ismā‘īl al-Hāshimī and addressed to ‘Abd al-Masīḥ ibn Isḥāq al-Kindī. In it the former

summons the latter to Islam, explaining its basic tenets. The second letter is supposedly a

response by al-Kindī,95 exploring numerous themes related to Christianity, Islam, and their

relationship.96 In a section on the origins of the Qur’ān, it dismisses the traditional Islamic

Long Arabic Recension,” in ibid., 452-9 [14.5-16.2]; 470-87 [16.21-24; 16.4-13]. John of the Damascus’
designation of the monk as Arian is not compatible with the Legend. The different versions of the Legend present
Segius’s Christology differently. Some seem to present it as having Nestorian tones, others as Miaphysite. For a
discussion of the presentation of the Christology of Sergius in the different versions of the Legend see Roggema,
The Legend of Sergius Baḥīrā, 104-13. The claim that Muḥammad “was the disciple of an Arian” is also made by
the 9th-century Melkite theologian Theodore Abū Qurrah. See Theodore Abū Qurrah, Refutations of the Saracens,
in Theodore Abū Qurrah, trans. John Lamoreaux (Provo, UT: Brigham Young University Press, 2005), 225.
93
For references to Sergius writing the Qur’ān for Muḥammad and Ka‘b corrupting it, see “The East-Syrian
Recension,” 282-5 [16.14-16], 298-9 [20], 302-3 [22], 306-7 [22]; “The West-Syrian Recension,” 332-5 [7.3; 9-
9.5], 353-5 [16.16-16.16]; “The Short Arabic Recension,” 390-91 [9-9.7], 408-9 [16.14-16.16]; “The Long Arabic
Recension,” 458-9 [16.2]; 490-91 [16.27], 510-11 [18.19]. The Long Arabic Recension names specific qur’ānic
verses and sūras that Sergius wrote down for Muḥammad. See ibid., 458-69 [16.16-16.20], 486-93 [16.26-16.28],
512-3 [18.24-18.29], 516-25 [18.43-18.66]. This recension mentions that Sergius knew that the things he wrote
down and gave to Muḥammad would be altered, but it does mention that Ka‘b would be responsible for altering
it. See ibid, 488-9 [16.26]. The East-Syrian Recension explicitly states “Sergius gave them the New and Ka‘b the
Old Testament.” See ibid., 304-5, [22]. The same recension also mentions that “He [Al-Hajjaj ibn Yusuf] sent for
all the Christian teachers and priests, and they gathered them and they explained the text of our Old and New
[Testament]; from the Gospel and the Torah and the Prophets. And every word which pleased him and which
everyone liked, he noted down in it, and he copied and quoted from the books and called it ‘Qur’an.’” See ibid.,
306-9 [22].
94
For this view and other views concerning the date of the Apology, see Laura Bottini, “The Apology of al-Kindī,”
in CMR, vol. 1, 587-8.
95
Both names are clearly pseudonyms, and the structure and spatial framework of the letters indicate that both
were composed by the same Christian author. See ibid., 587. For an English translation of the work, see The
Apology of al-Kindi, trans. Anton Tien, in The Early Christian-Muslim Dialogue: A Collection of Documents from
the First Three Islamic Centuries (632 – 900 A.D.), Translations with Commentary, ed. N. A. Newman (Hatfield,
PA: Interdisciplinary Biblical Research Institute, 1993), 381-545.
96
The second letter has four main sections. The first briefly disputes the claim that Islam and Christianity share
the same Abrahamic heritage, and defends at more length the Christian doctrines of the Trinity and the Unity of
God. The second section examines the life of Muḥammad and rejects the notion of his prophethood. The third
section discusses the origins, history, content and style of the Qur’ān. The last section compares Islamic customs
with those of the Christians. For these sections respectively, see ibid., 412-25, 425-52, 452-70 and 470-515.
37
account of the revelation of the Qur’ān by presenting an alternative account based on the Legend

of Sergius Baḥīrā.97

The Apology, “as a ‘summa’ of Islamo-Christian polemical literature … is the best-

known Christian Arabic apology in both east and west” – a fact that is attested by the rich

manuscript tradition in both Arabic and Latin.98 The first Latin translation of the Apology was

issued by Peter the Venerable in 1142. This prominent Benedictine abbot of Cluny journeyed

from Burgundy to Spain in that year to inspect certain Cluniac monasteries. There he was

exposed to remnants of Islamic culture that testified to the magnitude of the accomplishments

of the Muslim rule in Spain. These, however, also deepened his awareness that the challenge of

Islam still persisted.99 During this journey, Peter furthermore encountered the Near Eastern

Christian heritage that had long engaged in polemics against Islam, and he learned of the

Apology.100 He therefore became convinced of the need for what he called a Christian Arsenal

(armarium christianum) – a Latin corpus of translated works on Islamic beliefs and history,

including the Qur’ān and the Apology.101 The unique religious and intellectual diversity of Spain

allowed him the ability to assemble a group of translators whom he commissioned with the

translation of both these works and others.102

97
The Apology introduces new elements when retelling the Legend. It mentions that the monk was called Sergius
but elaborates that after being excommunicated by his companions, he traveled to the region of Tehama and
reached Mecca. It further relates that Sergius changed his name to Nestorius with the hope of strengthening the
Nestorian heresy, which he had embraced, and that he was also known among the Muslims by the name Gabriel
and the title “the faithful spirit.” The Apology mentions that the teachings Sergius handed down to Muḥammad,
which found their way into the Qur’ān, were corrupted by the Jews. In this regard the Apology singles out two
Jews: Ka‘b, already mentioned in the Legend, and ‘Abdullah son of Salam. It relates that they deceived
Muḥammad, pretending to accept his teachings, and when he died they became the instructors of ‘Ali. The Apology
relates that the Jews corrupted the scripture of the Muslims, omitting from it and adding to it as they wished. See
ibid., 453-55.
98
Bottini, “The Apology of al-Kindī,” 589.
99
Scott Bruce, Cluny and the Muslims of La Garde-Freinet: Hagiography and the Problem of Islam in Medieval
Europe (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2015), 82.
100
Irven Resnick, “Introduction,” in Peter the Venerable, Writings Against the Saracens, trans. Irven Resnick
(Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2016), 20.
101
Bruce, Cluny and the Muslims of La Garde-Freinet, 70-71.
102
The team included Peter of Toledo, Peter of Poitiers, Robert of Ketton, Hermann of Dalmatia and a certain
Arab by the name of Muḥammad. For the translators see James Kritzeck, Peter the Venerable and Islam (Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press, 1964), 56-69. For translations from Arabic into Latin in twelfth-century Spain, see
Charles Burnett, “A Group of Arabic–Latin Translators Working in Northern Spain in the Mid-12th Century,”
JRAS (1977): 62-108; Burnett, “Some Comments on the Translating of Works from Arabic into Latin in the Mid-
38
 The most important work of this project was obviously the first Latin translation of the

Qur’ān, produced by Robert of Ketton and entitled Lex Mahumet pseudoprophete (The Law of

Muḥammad the Pseudo-prophet). To this work Robert attached an introduction in the form of

a letter to Peter the Venerable, in which he describes Islam as the enemy of Christianity and a

lex letifera (death-dealing religion).103 The Apology seems to have been translated by Peter of

Toledo, with the assistance of Peter of Poitiers, and was entitled Epistola Saraceni et

Rescriptum Christiani.104 The enterprise included the translation of three more Islamic works

that were given the following Latin titles: Fabulae Saracenorum, Liber de generatione

Mahumet et nutritia eius, and Doctrina Mahumet.105 This collection came to be known as the

Corpus toledanum or Collectio toledana, due to the ostensible association of the translators

with the Spanish city of Toledo and its famous school of translation.106

The Corpus further included at the outset two introductory works written by Peter the

Venerable himself. The first is a brief polemical introduction called Summa totius haeresis ac

Twelfth Century,” in Orientalische Kultur und Europäisches Mittelalter, ed. Albert Zimmermann and Ingrid
Craemer-Ruegenberg (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1985), 161-71; Marie-Thérèse d’Alverny, “Translations and
Translators,” in Renaissance and Renewal in the Twelfth Century, ed. Robert Benson et al. (Toronto: University
of Toronto Press, 1991), 421-62.
103
Thomas Burman, Reading the Qur’ān in Latin Christendom, 1140-1560 (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2007), 15.
104
For the translators of the Apology see Kritzeck, op. cit., 56. The translation of the Apology was probably the
last of this project; for 1142 as the probable year of the translation, see ibid., 35 and n. 115; Fernando Muñoz,
“Peter of Toledo,” in CMR, vol. 3, 479.
105
The Fabulae Saracenorum (Fables of the Saracens) was translated by Rober of Ketton from an unknown Arabic
original. The work is a collection of Jewish and Muslim legends on the creation of the world and humankind, a
chronology of the patriarchs and the prophets that ends with Muḥammad’s story, and biographical outlines of the
first seven caliphs. The Liber de generatione Mahumet et nutritia eius (Book of the Birth of Muḥammad and his
Upbringing) is a translation by Herman of Dalmatia of the 13 th-century Kitāb al-Anwār (The Book of Lights) by
Abū al-Ḥasan al-Bakrī. This work contains numerous Judaeo-Islamic legends. It mainly describes the passing of
the mystical light, which is the true sign of prophethood, from Adam through the different prophets to Muḥammad.
The Doctrina Mahumet is also a translation by Herman of Dalmatia of the Arabic Masā’il ‘Abdullah ibn Salām
(The Questions of ‘Abdullah ibn Salām). The work describes how a Jewish scholar by the name of Abida, along
with four other Jewish teachers, presents Muḥammad with questions concerning their law. As Muḥammad answers
all of Abida’s questions and riddles, the latter is convinced of his prophethood and converts to Islam, taking the
name ‘Abdullah. For these works see Kritzeck, op. cit., 75-96; Óscar de la Cruz Palma and Cándida Hernández,
“Robert of Ketton” in CMR, vol. 3, 515-9; Cruz Palma and Hernández, “Hermann of Carinthia,” in CMR, vol. 3,
500-507.
106
This corpus was also known as Corpus Cluniacense, because its first manuscripts were produced at Cluny, and
as Corpus Islamolatinum, due to its content. See Bruce, Cluny and the Muslims, 5 and n. 7. On the Toledo school
of translation see Charles Burnett, “The Coherence of the Arabic-Latin Translation Program in Toledo in the
Twelfth Century,” Science in Context 14, no 1-2 (2001): 249-88.
39
diabolice secte Sarracenorum (Summary of the Complete Heresy and of the Diabolical Sect of

the Saracens). This Summa discusses the life of Muḥammad, relating that he was educated by

Jews and a Nestorian priest, and explaining that he composed the Qur’ān on the basis of his

knowledge of the Old and the New Testaments, Jewish traditions, and heretical doctrines.107

The second introductory work is a letter from Peter to Bernard of Clairvaux, one of the leading

Christian thinkers of the era, explaining that he issued all these translations so that Christian

intellectuals might be able to respond to the teachings of Islam.108

The first Latin translation of the Qur’ān was therefore initiated as a part of a Christian

armarium and located within a polemical framework. It was also, from its genesis, inextricably

linked with the Apology. The oldest manuscript to contain the Corpus toledanum, the twelfth

century Ms. Arsenal 1162, clearly reveals that this polemical setting is embraced and continued

by the various commentators on the Lex Mahumet.109 The comments and illustrations found in

this manuscript are in certain cases very informative, and in others are polemical.110 The

Apology’s main argument concerning qur’ānic origins is highlighted by these comments, which

point out the parallelism between the qur’ānic and biblical texts, some of which even state that

Muḥammad “steals” materials from the Bible.111

Robert of Ketton consciously attempted to produce a translation of the Qur’ān that

corresponded with its Arabic style, as he perceived it, and that also suited the elevated style of

107
For a summary of Peter’s Summa and the Latin text see Michelina Di Cesare, The Pseudo-Historical Image of
the Prophet Muhammad in Medieval Latin Literature: A Repertory (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2012), 84-9. For the
English translation of the text see Peter the Venerable, Writings Against the Saracens, 34-50.
108
For the Latin text of the Epistola Petri Cluniacensis ad Bernardum Claraevallis see Kritzeck, op. cit., 212-4.
For the English translation of this letter see Peter the Venerable, Writings Against the Saracens, 27-33.
109
For the Ms 1162 of the Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal in Paris see Kritzeck, op. cit., 73-4. D’Alverny presents
convincing arguments that the commentators on this manuscript must have included members of the translation
team gathered by Peter the Venerable. See Marie-Thérèse d’Alverny, “Deux traductions latines du Coran au moyen
âge,” AHDLMA 22-23 (1947-48): 102-3. Burman further maintains that Robert of Ketton was also one of the
commentators, since “it is impossible not to notice the obvious continuities between how Robert translates certain
passages and how the annotations then comment upon them.” See Burman, op. cit., 75-76.
110
Ibid., 60-75.
111
Ibid., 66.
40
his culture, which he defines as Latinitas.112 This first translation of Islam’s holy book into

Latin, along with the other translated works of the Corpus toledanum, was widely read by

European scholars, becoming the most popular and predominantly used translation till the early

eighteenth century.113 The interest in the Lex Mahumet was rekindled in the sixteenth century.

The continuous Ottoman threat to Christian Europe convinced Protestant intellectuals that

knowledge of the Qur’ān was necessary for apologetics against Islam and missionary work

among Muslims. Therefore, upon the request of Martin Luther, the Swiss orientalist

Theodor Bibliander produced in 1543 the first printed edition of the Lex Mahumet. It included

at its outset polemical prefaces by Luther and his fellow reformer Philipp Melanchthon.114 This

edition was widely distributed and consulted throughout the following centuries.115

The same year of 1543 witnessed the printing of the Compendium Alchorani by the

German Catholic scholar Johann Albrecht von Widmanstetter under the title Epitome Alcorani.

The Compendium was merely an abridged edition of the Qur’ān, deriving from the detailed

table of contents written for the Lex Mahumet.116 Probably unaware that Bibliander’s edition

was being prepared, and falsely maintaining that the Compendium was Robert’s Lex Mahumet,

Widmanstetter published it in a booklet, along with other polemical works.117

112
It is interesting to note that in the preface to his translation of the Qur’ān, Robert does not refer to his culture
as Christianitas (Christendom) but rather as Latinitas (the Latin civilization). See ibid., 16-17 and 32-4.
113
Ibid., 35; Hartmut Bobzin, “Latin Translations of the Koran: A Short Overview,” DI 70, no. 2 (1993): 194-5.
114
The printing of the Lex Mahumet by Bibliander was undertaken by Johannes Oporinus of Basel. Initially the
council of Basel banned and confiscated the Latin translation of the Qur’ān. Luther, who maintained that the
religious teachings and customs of “Muhammadanism” should be made known to Christians, persuaded the
council of his view. They consequently lifted the ban on the printing of the Qur’ān with the condition that Luther
and Melanchthon write prefaces to it. See Charles Amjad-Ali, “Prejudice and its Historical Application: A Radical
Hermeneutic of Luther’s Treatment of the Turks (Muslims),” in Radicalizing Reformation: North American
Perspectives, ed. Karen Bloomquist et al. (Zürich: Lit Verlag GmbH & Co. KG Wien, 2016), 226-7. On the preface
of Luther and Melanchthon see Adam Francisco, Martin Luther and Islam: A Study in Sixteenth-Century Polemics
and Apologetics (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 211-7.
115
Harry Clark, “The Publication of the Koran in Latin: A Reformation Dilemma,” SCJ 15, no. 1 (1984), 3–12;
Hartmut Bobzin, Der Koran im Zeitalter der Reformation (Beirut: In Kommission bei Franz Steiner Verlag
Stuttgart, 1995), 262–75.
116
For the Dresden tabula on which the Compendium Alchorani was based, see Burman, op. cit., 98-105.
117
Ibid., 110-11. This booklet edition also contains two letters, one to a Duke and another to a bookseller explaining
its purpose and content; a modernized version of the Doctrina Mahumet called The Theology of Muhammad son
of ‘Abd Allāh Arranged in a Dialogue; the Epitome; Widmanstetter’s annotations on the Theology of Muhammad;
a short life of Muḥammad (Mahometis vita); and finally Annotations of Various Things and Impious Opinions
Which Occur in the Epitome of the Qur’ān. See ibid., 106.
41
 The Epitome, unlike Bibliander’s edition, was scarcely read.118 Widmanstetter’s edition

is nevertheless important for two main reasons. Firstly, it demonstrates the influence of the

Corpus toledanum in two ways. It follows a similar structure, as it situates the Epitome in the

midst of polemical works and adds to it polemical notes. Furthermore, Widmanstetter’s

annotations, in a manner similar to the main claim of the Apology and the comments of the

manuscripts of the Lex Mahumet, unquestionably accepts the claim that the qur’ānic text draws

upon preceding traditions and therefore attempts at explaining its subtext. Widmanstetter’s

work is secondly important because, in departure from preceding commentators on the Lex

Mahumet, he does not focus on philological illustrations nor does he limit the correspondence

of the qur’ānic passages to the biblical texts. Widmanstetter, rather, draws parallels between

qur’ānic passages and various extra-biblical texts including classical, Byzantine, and

postbiblical Jewish works.119

It is fair therefore to conclude, in light of all this data, that the modus operandi of the

medieval Christian discussions of the Qur’ān, in the East as well as the West, was based on two

main perceptions. The first is that the qur’ānic text is in a sense “familiar,” as it draws, at least

in part, upon biblical traditions and should therefore be read and understood in light of them.

The second perception is that the Qur’ān is the scripture of the “radical other,” the enemy of

Christianity, and should therefore be presented to the Christian reader accompanied with

polemical notes and additional apologetical writings.

This medieval dual approach to the Qur’ān was extended to subsequent works besides

Qur’ān editions. Two interesting books demonstrate the continuation of this approach. The first

is the Evangelium infantiae, vel Liber apocryphus de infantia Servatoris, published by Henricus

Sike in 1697, almost a century and a half after Bibliander and Widmanstetter printed their

editions of the Qur’ān. Already at the outset of this work Sike states that Muḥammad and his

118
Bobzin, Der Koran im Zeitalter der Reformation, 359–63.
119
Burman, op. cit., 106-110.
42
followers pillaged, in various ways, the content of the apocryphal infancy gospel presented in

his book, which existed before Muḥammad’s time.120 Sike subsequently presents the Arabic

text along with the Latin translation of this infancy gospel, which contains traditions from the

Gospel of Luke, the Prot. Jas., the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, and other works.121 In the last

section of the book, Sike discusses the correspondence between excerpts from this infancy

gospel and qur’ānic texts.122

The second book that demonstrates the extension of the medieval approach to the

Qur’ān is Samuel Lee’s Controversial Tracts on Christianity and Mohammedanism, published

in 1824. Being a devout Anglican, Lee prepared this book with the intention of helping

Christian missionaries to understand Islam better.123 The work contains excerpts and complete

texts of various polemical and apologetical works by Christians and Muslims.124 To these works

Lee adds two of his own compositions. Only the first of these, which is an appendix inserted

by Lee after one of the Christian tracts under the title “Appendix B,” is relevant to our

discussion.125 In this appendix Lee endeavors to demonstrate that Muḥammad acquired his

knowledge of biblical and post-biblical Jewish and Christian traditions from Syria.126 To

120
Sike, Evangelium infantiae, 2-3.
121
See ibid., 1-161. Sike’s text is the Arabic Infancy Gospel, found in a manuscript based on the Bodleian Library
in Oxford (MS Oxon. Bodl. Or. 350). See Cornelia Horn, “Apocryphal Gospels in Arabic, or Some Complications
on the Road to Traditions about Jesus,” in Jesus in apokryphen Evangelienüberlieferungen Beiträge zu
ausserkanonischen Jesusüberlieferungen aus verschiedenen Sprach- und Kulturtraditionen, ed. Jörg Frey und Jens
Schröter (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 595.
122
Ibid., (1) – (93).
123
Lee explicitly states his intentions in the preface of the work. See Samuel Lee, ed., Controversial Tracts on
Christianity and Mohammedanism (Cambridge, 1824), i. For Lee’s contribution to Christian missions see Lyle
Vander Werff, Christian Mission to Muslims: The Record: Anglican and Reformed Approaches in India and the
Near East, 1800-1938 (South Pasadena, CA: William Carey Library Publishers, 1977), 39-41.
124
Lee discusses and presents excerpts of apologetical works by Christians and Muslims in the preface. See Lee,
Controversial Tracts, i-cxxvii. Subsequently Lee cites a translation of an Arabic apologetical tract produced by a
Muslim instructor called Mirza Ibrahim in 1811. See ibid., 1-39. This is followed by an extract from a work by
Aga Akbar on the miracles of Muḥammad in the original Farsi text with its English translation. See ibid., 40-69.
These are followed by Lee’s translation of three apologetical tracts written by the English missionary Henry
Martyn (1781-1812) in response to the work of Mirza Ibrahim. See ibid., 80-101, 102-23 and 139-60. The latter
tracts are followed by a translation of a long response by a certain Mohammed Ruza. See ibid., 161-450.
125
Lee inserts this appendix after the second tract of Henry Martyn, in which the letter states that the Qur’ān
“contains moreover many low and vulgar expressions, as well as many stories which are altogether unnecessary,
because they are to be found in the books of the Jews and Christians.” See ibid., 113. The second composition by
Lee is a reexamination of the apologetical and doctrinal themes presented in the preceding works of the
Controversial Tracts under the title, The Question Resumed by the Translator. See ibid., 451-584.
126
Ibid., 124-5.
43
confirm his view, Lee presents thematic and linguistic correspondences between qur’ānic

passages or Islamic commentaries on them and works attributed to Ephrem the Syrian. 127 This

examination leads him to conclude that:

Upon the whole then, allowing some parts of the Koran to have been taken from

the Jews, and others from the Magi or Persians, I am inclined to believe that

what has been had from the Christians came from Syria … from the common

accounts in circulation among the Syrians, or from the public reading of the

Scriptures and the writings of Ephrem in the Churches of that day. The

difference between the relations of the Prophet and those now found in the

Syriac writings appear to me to be well accounted for, by the supposition, that

they may not have been well understood by Mohammed, or that a defect of

memory in the course of fifteen or twenty years, might have confused some and

curtailed others.128

As innovative as it was, Lee’s research went almost unnoticed in academic circles. The

Controversial Tracts remained limited mainly to missionaries who became active among Indian

Muslims.129 However, less than a decade after the publication of this work, Western approaches

to the Qur’ān witnessed a dramatic shift. A new wave of academic studies initiated historical-

critical scholarship.

127
Lee explains that he will examine “whether this will be borne out by a comparison of some of the accounts
found in the Koran, with those which are to be met with in the books of the Syrians, to which Mohammed might
have had access.” He particularly focuses on Ephrem the Syrian, arguing that his works “flourished during the
reign of Constantine … [and] were almost universally read before the times of Mohammed.” See ibid., 125. Some
of the works which Lee assumes to have been written by Ephrem are not original but were falsely attributed to
him. For this point see Joseph Witztum, “The Syriac Milieu of the Quran: The Recasting of Biblical Narratives”
(PhD diss., Princeton University, 2011), 20-21. For a critical discussion of Lee’s scholarship in “Appendix B” see
ibid., 21-36.
128
Lee, Controversial Tracts, 138.
129
Witztum, “The Syriac Milieu of the Quran,” 36; Avril Powell, Muslims and Missionaries in Pre-Mutiny India
(Richmond, Surrey: Curzon Press, 1993), 99.
44
The Genesis of Historical-Critical Qur’ān Scholarship

Historical-critical scholarship on the Qur’ān began with the research of four major

scholars: Abraham Geiger, Gustav Weil, Aloys Sprenger and Theodor Nöldeke. The

groundbreaking studies of these scholars presented a clear departure from the preceding

Western approaches by offering a systematic and non-polemical examination of the Qur’ān.

This novel impartiality was influenced by 19th century Romanticism and its emphasis on the

universality of human nature, which resulted in an unprejudiced discussion and presentation of

Muḥammad’s character and his self-perception. The Qur’ān, believed to be solely authored by

Muḥammad – who was no longer perceived merely as an “imposter” and “false prophet” but

rather also as an “enthusiast” and “sincere” religious leader – was now subjected to objective

academic research.130

These new studies inherited two main elements from the preceding scholarly tradition:

reading the Qur’ān in light of Muḥammad’s biography, and reading it in light of biblical and

post-biblical Jewish and Christian traditions. As has been demonstrated above, medieval

Christian authors who discussed the origins of the Qur’ān, whether Eastern or Western, believed

it to be inextricably associated with Muḥammad. Thus, unlike medieval Muslim scholars who

approached the Qur’ān as a divine revelation sent down to Muḥammad by God in stages, these

Christian authors believed it to be a forged work produced by Muḥammad himself or dictated

to him by certain Jewish and Christian figures.

This view, as explained above, emerged in the East and was articulated in the Legend

of Sergius Baḥīrā and the more widespread Apology of al-Kindī. That this belief was adopted

in the West is clearly indicated in the fact that the Corpus toledanum also included, besides the

Apology, the Fabulae Saracenorum and the Liber de generatione Mahumet et nutritia eius –

130
Nicolai Sinai, “Orientalism, Authorship, and the Onset of Revelation: Abraham Geiger and Theodor Nöldeke
on Muḥammad and the Qur’ān,” in „Im vollen Licht der Geschichte“: Die Wissenschaft des Judentums und die
Anfänge der Koranforschung, ed. Dirk Hartwig et al. (Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2008), 145-8. For the changing
image of Muḥammad in Western literature and scholarship between the 17th and 19th centuries, see Philip Almond,
Heretic and Hero: Muhammad and the Victorians (Wiesbaden: O. Harrassowitz, 1989), 3-27.
45
works that contain accounts of Muḥammad’s life – alongside the Lex Mahumet. This assumed

relationship between Muḥammad’s biography and the Qur’ān was carried into the modern

period. The three most prominent European translations of the Qur’ān in the eighteenth century

– the Latin translation of Marraccio, the English translation of Sale and the French translation

of Savary – all include a biographical outline of Muḥammad’s life.131

Despite the long history of the study of the Qur’ān by Christians, historical critical

research was inaugurated by a German Jewish rabbi, Abraham Geiger (1810-1874), who sought

to demonstrate the influence of Jewish, and not Christian, traditions on the Qur’ān. Born into

an orthodox Jewish family, Geiger was instructed in Hebrew texts and the Talmud from a young

age.132 Geiger initially intended to study theology. However, after a semester at the University

of Heidelberg in 1829, he switched to oriental languages, enrolling as a student of philology at

the University of Bonn in the fall of the same year. There Geiger began studying the Qur’ān in

1831 at the suggestion of his professor, the prominent orientalist Georg Freytag, who informed

him that the next year’s annual prize essay would be on the theme of the Jewish sources of the

Qur’ān. Geiger researched the topic enthusiastically, submitting his essay to the university in

Latin in 1832. The same essay was published in 1833 in German as Was hat Mohammed aus

dem Judenthume aufgenommen?.133

131
Marraccio includes a bibliography of Muḥammad in the prodromus to his translation. See Ludovico Marraccio,
Prodromus ad refutationem Alcorani, in quo Mahumetis vita, ac res gestae ex probatissimis apud Arabes
scriptoribus collectae referuntur (Patavii: Ex Typographia Seminarii, 1698), 9-32. For the biography presented in
Sale’s translation see George Sale, The Koran: Commonly Called Alcoran of Mohammed (London: Ackers, 1734),
33–56. Savary present a long section of Muḥammad’s biography before his translations. See Claude-Étienne
Savary. Le Coran: traduit de l'arabe, accompagné de notes, et précédé d'un abrégé de la vie de Mahomet, tiré des
écrivains orientaux les plus estimés (Paris: Knapen, 1783), I:1-160.
132
Susannah Heschel, Abraham Geiger and the Jewish Jesus (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 24.
Geiger’s father was a rabbi and his grandfather on his mother’s side was a dean of a Talmudic school (Rosh
Yeshiva). See ibid. For Geiger’s biography see Ludwig Geiger, Abraham Geiger: Leben und Lebenswerk (Berlin:
G. Reimer, 1910), 5-231.
133
Heschel, Abraham Geiger and the Jewish Jesus, 26-30. For Geiger’s book see Abraham Geiger. Was hat
Mohammed aus dem Judenthume aufgenommen. Bonn: Baaden, 1833. For the English translation see
Abraham Geiger. Judaism and Islam, trans., F. M. Young. New York: KTAV, 1970. Geiger eventually submitted
his essay to the University of Marburg, from which he received his doctorate in 1834. During his stay at Marburg
Geiger was also ordained rabbi. See ibid., 30.
46
 Geiger’s work reveals two main assumptions even in its title: namely, the centrality of

Muḥammad in the formation of the Qur’ān, and his dependence on Jewish traditions in this

process. Geiger highlights both points in his introduction:

For this we must study the connection of the facts to be demonstrated with the

whole life and work of Muhammad, as well as with those events of his time,

which either determined his actions or were determined by him. And so this

treatise falls into two divisions of which the first has to answer the following

questions: Did Muhammad wish to borrow from Judaism? Could Muhammad

borrow from Judaism? and if so, how was such borrowing possible for him? Was

it compatible with his plan to borrow from Judaism? The second division must

bring forward the facts to prove the borrowing, which has been stated on general

grounds to have taken place. Only in this way can an individual proof of the kind

referred to acquire scientific value, partly as throwing light upon the nature of

Muhammad’s plan, and partly as showing the intrinsic necessity of the fact and

its actual importance by virtue of its connection with other facts of Muhammad’s

life and age.134

Geiger discusses the ways in which Muḥammad could have “borrowed” traditions from

the Jews through demonstrating and examining the congruence between numerous passages

and themes from the Qur’ān and the corresponding texts in the Hebrew Bible and rabbinic

literature.135 Nevertheless, as much as Geiger emphasizes the importance of Muḥammad’s life

for this study in his introduction, he does not discuss or even mention the biography of

134
Geiger, Judaism and Islam, 1-2.
135
Geiger speaks more specifically of Muḥammad borrowing from Judaism because he perceives that in the
development of the Qur’ān, “agency is exclusively centered in Muḥammad.” See Sinai, “Orientalism, Authorship,
and the Onset of Revelation,” 149. Geiger classifies these “borrowed” materials in different categories: “Concepts
and Terms” (Geiger, Judaism and Islam, 30-45); “Doctrines” (ibid., 45-64); “Moral and Legal Rules” (ibid., 64-
70); “Views of Life” (ibid., 70-73); and “Stories” (ibid., 73-156). Geiger emphasizes that Muḥammad does not
merely duplicate these themes and accounts but rather modifies them to fit his theology and culture. See ibid., 23-
24 and 157-161. Geiger further explains that in certain cases Muḥammad reverses the order of the content of
certain Jewish texts and issues laws that counter the Jewish laws. See ibid., 10-12 and 158-9.
47
Muḥammad in the body of the work. Geiger rather assumes that the basic data found in the Sīra

is generally reliable, as he uses sporadic elements from a “certain” biography of Muḥammad, a

history of the Arabs, accounts from the Ḥadīth, and some Tafsīr traditions.136 In light of specific

data that he extracts from these sources, he interprets qur’ānic verses to explain what he believes

to be facets of Muḥammad’s life, including his thoughts, motives, and actions towards the Jews

at different stages.137

Geiger does not present any clear outline of the historical development of Muḥammad’s

interaction with the Jews. He does not even refer to the Meccan and Medinan periods in his

work. Rather, following his method, he ends up more with a psychological analysis of

Muḥammad’s inner world.138 Geiger thus concludes that Muḥammad had a special affection for

Jews and Judaism, enjoyed a great intimacy with them, wished to have them as adherents and

include them in his community, and that he was also intimidated by their intellectual

superiority.139 He further explains that Muḥammad did not mind “borrowing” materials from

Judaism, as he did not seek any peculiarity; that while doing so he was careful not to alienate

other religious groups; and that though he was in a sense “a genuine enthusiast,” during this

process he “certainly deceived himself and others.”140 Geiger however equally asserts that

136
Geiger refers to these works in his footnotes. He relies on the following biography of Muḥammad: Ismā‘il ibn
‘Alī Abū al-Fidā’. De vita et rebus gestis Mohammedis, Moslemicae religionis auctoris, et imperii Saracenici
fundatoris. Ex codice Msto Pocockiano Bibliothecæ Bodleianæ textum Arabicum primus edidit, Latinè vertit,
præfatione, & notis illustravit Joannes Gagnier, A.M. Oxoniae: E theatro Sheldoniano, 1723. See for example
Geiger, op. cit., 4 and n. 3 and 4. Geiger also relies on the following account of the origins of Islam, its early
history, and theological schools, taken from Barhebraeus: Edward Pococke, Specimen historiae Arabum, sive,
Gregorii Abul Farajii Malatiensis: de origine & moribus Arabum succincta narratio, in linguam Latinam
conversa, notisque è probatissimis apud ipsos authoribus, fufiùs illustrate. Oxoniae: H. Hall, 1650. See for
example Geiger, op. cit., 4 and n. 4 and [p.] 5 and n. 2. For Geiger’s use of accounts from the Ḥadīth tradition see
for example Geiger, op. cit., 26 and n. 1 and [p.] 15 and n. 3. For Geiger’s use of the Tafsīr see for example Geiger,
op. cit., 4 and n. 4 and [p. 6] and n. 2.
137
Geiger for example concludes from Q 6.68 “that Muḥammad very often came off second best in religious
disputes” with Jews. See Geiger, op. cit., 7. From Q 42.52 and Q 7.158 Geiger concludes that Muḥammad did not
acquire any knowledge about Judaism from Jewish writings and that all the knowledge he gained in this area was
based on oral traditions and his conversations with the Jews. See Geiger, op. cit., 17-21. Geiger also concludes
from the data found in the Tafsīr tradition on Q 17.76 that the Jews advised Muḥammad to go to Syria because it
alone was the land of the prophets. See Geiger, op. cit., p. 8 and n. 4.
138
Geiger himself states the following concerning his examination of Muḥammad: “This investigation has for the
most part consisted in enquiring into what was, or might well have been, in Muḥammad’s mind.” Ibid., 24.
139
Ibid., 4-8, 14-18.
140
Ibid., 21-5 (citations from page 25).
48
Muḥammad was also hostile to the Jews and points to certain qur’ānic verses as a confirmation

of this claim.141

Geiger’s work inaugurated modern academic Qur’ān scholarship and influenced

numerous subsequent studies in the field. A certain stream of scholarship that emerged as a

result of his research was led by Jewish scholars who, motivated by the perception of Islam as

the “receptacle” of Judaism, embarked on examining the parallels between both religions.

German Jewish scholars who researched this area, in a similar manner to Geiger, came from

religious homes and were profoundly versed in classical Jewish literature.142 Gustav Weil was

the first of these to articulate the relationship between Muḥammad’s biography and the Qur’ān.

Weil (1808-1889) was a contemporary and friend of Geiger and their lives reveal certain

parallels. Weil was born in Sulzburg to an orthodox Jewish family. He learned Hebrew and,

being destined to become a rabbi like his precursors, he was also sent at a young age to study

Talmud under his grandfather in Metz. Weil, however, abandoned this route when at the age of

twenty he enrolled at the University of Heidelberg, where he studied philology, history and

Arabic. In 1830 he moved to Paris to continue with Arabic under the prominent orientalist

Silvestre de Sacy. From there he went with the French army to Algeria and in 1831 moved to

Cairo, where he spent four years perfecting his Arabic and also acquiring Turkish and Persian.

After spending a few months in Istanbul, Weil returned to Heidelberg and served for twenty-

five years as a librarian at the University, being eventually appointed as the chair of Oriental

languages in 1861.143

141
Ibid., 4, 157-61.
142
Susannah Heschel, “The Rise of Imperialism and the German Jewish Engagement in Islamic Studies,” in
Colonialism and the Jews, ed. Ethan Katz et al. (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2017),
60-61.
143
Martin Kramer, “Introduction” in The Jewish Discovery of Islam: Studies in Honor of Bernard Lewis, ed. Martin
Kramer (Tel Aviv: Moshe Dayan Center for Middle Eastern and African Studies, Tel Aviv University, 1999), 12;
Lawrence Conrad, “Editor’s Introduction,” in Josef Horovitz, The Earliest Biographies of the Prophet and their
Authors, ed. Lawrence Conrad (Princeton, NJ: The Darwin Press, 2002), xiv.
49
 Weil published the first European biography of Muḥammad under the title Mohammed

der Prophet, sein Leben und seine Lehre in 1843, a decade after the publication of Geiger’s

essay.144 He relied primarily on the then-unpublished Sīrat Rasūl Allāh edited by Ibn Hisham,

and other Islamic manuscripts.145 Weil’s critical examination of these sources naturally

produces a secular reading of the Sīra tradition.146 His biography of Muḥammad is marked by

its avoidance of denigration and polemics and its endeavor for objectivity. Its primary aim is to

explain Muḥammad’s context and his role in history.147 Already in this work, Weil presents a

full chronological list of the qur’ānic texts from Tārīkh al-Khamīs by al-Diyārbakrī, explaining

that it serves as a general guide for the reader of the Qur’ān.148

Weil’s major contribution to the field however was his next work. A year after the

publication of Mohammed der Prophet, Weil published the first critical introduction to the

Qur’ān, entitled Historisch-kritische Einleitung in den Koran, in 1844.149 This work contains

three parts devoted respectively to the life of Muḥammad, the Qur’ān, and Islam. Weil’s outline

of Muḥammad’s biography again follows the general themes found in the Sīra.150 In his

discussion of the chronology of the qur’ānic texts, Weil states the following:

144
Gustav Weil. Mohammed der Prophet, sein Leben und seine Lehre: aus handschriftlichen Quellen und dem
Koran geschöpft und dargestellt. Stuttgart: Verlag der J. B. Metzlerschen Buchhandlung, 1843.
145
Weil had access to these sources through the ducal library in Gotha. See Heschel, “The Rise of Imperialism,”
63; Conrad, “Editor’s Introduction,” xv.
146
Weil affirms the claim made by earlier European scholars that Muḥammad was epileptic, but in contrast to
them he does not reduce Muḥammad to an epileptic personality. He argues that Muḥammad’s rationality led him
to believe that he was a prophet. The epileptic visions he experienced, Weil maintains, merely persuaded him of
this belief. See Weil, Mohammed der Prophet, 44-5 and n. 48; Almond, Heretic and Hero, 24. For the depiction
of Muḥammad as epileptic in European scholarship before Weil, see ibid., 20-24.
147
Conrad, “Editor’s Introduction,” xv; Bernard Lewis, Islam in History: Ideas, People, and Events in the Middle
East (London: Alcove Press, 1973), 128.
148
See Weil, Mohammed der Prophet, 363-4. Weil emphasizes that he does not fully agree with the whole list.
See ibid. For the work of al-Diyārbakrī see Ḥusayn ibn Muḥammad al-Diyārbakrī. Tārīkh al-Khamīs fī Aḥwāl
Anfas Nafīs. 2 Vols. Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘ilmīyah, 2009.
149
Gustav Weil, Historisch-kritische Einleitung in den Koran, Bielefeld: Velhagen und Klasing, 1844. Reprint:
Bielefeld: Velhagen und Klasing, 1878. The second edition is translated by Frank Sanders and Harry Dunning in
six articles published in the journal TBW. See Gustav Weil, Frank Sanders and Harry Dunning, “An Introduction
to the Quran,” TBW 5, no. 3 (1895): 181-191; “An Introduction to the Quran. II,” TBW 5, no. 4 (1895): 273-286;
“An Introduction to the Quran. III,” The Biblical World 5, no. 5 (1895): 343-359; “An Introduction to the Quran.
IV,” TBW 5, no. 6 (1895): 438-447; “An Introduction to the Quran. V,” TBW 6, no. 1 (1895): 26-38; “An
Introduction to the Quran. VI,” TBW 6, no. 2 (1895): 105-114.
150
See ibid., “An Introduction to the Quran,” and “An Introduction to the Quran. II.”
50
 In an introduction to the Quran it is necessary to attempt to determine not merely

the time of the appearance of the entire sura, but also that of the separate parts

of each sura, especially of the legal suras of Medina. In the case of these, it is

possible to give a fixed order to each sura. The Meccan suras, because of their

lack of distinctive characteristics and their similarity, can only be divided into

three periods. Three indications serve as a guide in a chronological

determination: first, clear references to historical events whose time is known

from other sources; second, the subject-matter of the suras, which entirely

changed after the Hijra; for Muhammad in the first period appeared more as a

reformer, in the second, as a founder of a new religion and as a lawgiver; third,

their outward form, for Muhammad … treated in the most prosaic manner the

very subjects which in earlier life he had invested with brilliant imaginings.151

Weil, therefore, believes that the chronology of the Qur’ān can be established primarily

on the basis of the Sīra, or what he defines as “clear references [in the qur’ānic texts] to

historical events whose time is known from other sources,” and only secondarily on the basis

of the subject matter of these texts or their outward form. In light of these criteria, Weil

subsequently presents a general chronology of the qur’ānic texts, whether sūras or clusters of

verses, classifying them into his fourfold division of early, middle, and late Meccan periods and

a Medinan period.152 When he is unable to discern the place of certain texts in this chronological

outline, Weil turns to the chronology accepted in Islamic tradition.153

Weil’s attempt at reconstructing the chronology of the Qur’ān in light of the Sīra

emanates therefore from medieval Islamic scholarship. The main difference between Weil and

these Muslim scholars is that he read the qur’ānic texts against a critical and secular narrative

151
See Weil, “An Introduction to the Quran. III,” 349-50.
152
Ibid., 350-57; Weil, “An Introduction to the Quran. IV,” 438-45.
153
Weil states, “An exact chronological arrangement of the remaining suras of the first period is impossible on
account of their similarity in form and contents, and therefore we follow an order given in Arab tradition.” See
Weil “An Introduction to the Quran. III.,” 352.
51
of Muḥammad’s life while maintaining its chronology. This reading of the development of the

qur’ānic text remains Weil’s lasting legacy, and it was adopted by the succeeding generation of

scholars, including Sprenger and Nöldeke.154

Unlike Geiger and Weil, Sprenger and Nöldeke were not from a Jewish background.

Aloys Sprenger (1813-1893) was born in the small Austrian town of Nassereith. He studied

Oriental Studies at the University of Vienna, acquiring Persian, Turkish, and also Arabic, which

he pursued in Paris under the Orientalists Silvestre de Sacy and Étienne Quatremère. Sprenger

also studied medicine in Germany and moved subsequently to England, where he was appointed

as an assistant surgeon in the military service of the East India Company, arriving at Calcutta

in 1843. Two years later, in 1845, Sprenger was appointed as the principal of the Delhi College

and in 1850 the principal of the Calcutta Madrasa. Sprenger eventually returned to Germany,

where he received a professorship position in Arabic and Urdu languages at Bern University in

1859, which he retained until his retirement in 1893.155

Sprenger’s studies and publications were a major contribution to what was then defined

as Oriental Studies.156 His main contribution to Islamic studies was his work on the biography

of Muḥammad. In 1851 Sprenger published The Life of Mohammad from Original Sources.157

In a manner similar to Weil, Sprenger presents a critical reading of the Islamic sources and a

secular reading of Muḥammad’s life while ascribing specific qur’ānic texts to particular periods

in it.158 A decade later Sprenger would begin publishing a much more comprehensive three-

154
Nicolai Sinai, “Historical-Critical Readings of the Abrahamic Scriptures,” in The Oxford Handbook of the
Abrahamic Religions, ed. Adam Silverstein et al. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 221-2; Fred Donner,
“The Historian, the Believer and the Qur’ān,” in New Perspectives on the Qur’ān: The Qur’ān in Its Historical
Context 2, ed. Gabriel Reynolds (New York: Routledge, 2011), 26-7.
155
Muḥammad Chaghatai, “Dr Aloys Sprenger and the Delhi College,” in The Delhi College: Traditional Elites,
the Colonial State, and Education before 1857, ed. Margit Pernau (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 111-
12.
156
Rudi Paret, Arabistik und Islamkunde an deutschen Universitäten: Deutsche Orientalisten seit Theodor Nöldeke
(Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1966), 11-12; Johann Fück, Die arabischen Studien in Europa bis in den Anfang des 20.
Jahrhunderts (Leipzig: Harrassowitz, 1955), 176-9.
157
Aloys Sprenger. The Life of Mohammad from Original Sources. Allahabad: The Presbyterian Mission Press,
1851. The work does not cover all the life of Muḥammad but rather ends with his arrival at Medina.
158
Sprenger also concludes that Muḥammad was epileptic. See ibid., 114. Sprenger’s tone is polemical. He refers
to the spread of Islam in his introduction as “the victory of a false religion.” See ibid., 1. Describing Muḥammad’s
52
volume biography of Muḥammad under the title Das Leben und die Lehre des Moḥammad,

nach bisher größtenteils unbenutzten Quellen.159 Sprenger’s reading of the Qur’ān in light of

the Sīra is further evident in his interest in al-Suyūṭī’s al-Itqān fī ‘Ulūm al-Qur’ān, considered

to be one of the par excellence works on qur’ānic chronology in the Muslim tradition.160

Sprenger published an edition of the al-Itqān in Calcutta in 1857.161 Besides its impact on

Sprenger’s work, al-Itqān had a significant influence on the work of his contemporary,

Nöldeke.162

Theodor Nöldeke (1836-1930) was born in Harburg, Prussia. He received training in

classical languages from his father, who was a school (Progymnasium) principal. In 1853 he

enrolled in the University of Göttingen, studying oriental languages under the renowned

orientalist and theologian Heinrich Ewald. In 1856 he submitted his dissertation, De origine et

compositione Surarum Qoranicarum ipsiusque Qorani, and received his doctorate.

Subsequently he also studied at the Universities of Vienna, Leiden, and Berlin, deepening his

knowledge of Oriental languages. From 1864 on he held a professorship of Oriental languages

influence on Islam he states: “There is, however, no doubt that the Imposter has defiled it by his immorality and
perverseness of mind, and that most of the objectionable doctrines are his.” See ibid., 175.
159
See Aloys Sprenger. Das Leben und die Lehre des Moḥammad, nach bisher größtenteils unbenutzten Quellen.
Vols. 1-3. Berlin: Nicolaische Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1861–65.
160
The significance of the al-Itqān lies in the fact that it summarizes the research of numerous important studies
produced in the six or seven centuries preceding it. See Devin Stewart, “Notes on Medieval and Modern
Emendations of the Qur’ān,” in The Qur’ān in Its Historical Context, ed. Gabriel Reynolds (London: Routledge,
2008), 230. Al-Suyūṭī emphasizes in the first chapter of al-Itqān the importance of discerning the chronology of
the qur’ānic texts and allocating each of these in its specific categories. In this regard he presents numerous
categories, the most important of which are the Meccan and Medinan, presenting the views of preceding scholars
concerning the chronology of each sūra or parts of it. See Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān fī ‘Ulūm al-Qur’ān, vol.
1 (Al-Madina al-Munawwara, Saudi Arabia: Majma’ al-Malik Fahd li-Tiba‘at al-Mushaf al-Sharif, 2005), 43-113.
Chapters 2 to 6 present the views of preceding scholars concerning the classification of the qur’ānic texts into the
following dual categories: Ch. 2, categories of ḥaḍrī and madanī, texts that appeared while Muḥammad was in
residence versus while he was traveling (see ibid., 114-36); Ch. 3, categories of nahārī and laylī, texts that appeared
during daytime versus nighttime (ibid., 137-48); Ch. 4, categories of ṣayfī and shita’ī, texts that appeared in the
summer or in the winter (ibid., 149-151); Ch. 5, categories of firashī and nawmī, texts that appeared while
Muḥammad was in bed and while sleeping (ibid., 152-4); Ch. 6, categories of arḍī and samāwī, texts that appeared
while Muḥammad was on the earth versus in the heavens. Al-Suyūṭī devotes the subsequent ten chapters to
discussing other aspects of the appearance (’inzāl) of the qur’ānic texts. See ibid., 176-335.
161
See al-Suyūṭī, Jalāl al-Dīn ‘Abd al-Raḥmān. Al-Itqān fī ‘Ulūm al-Qur’ān. Edited by Basheer al-Dīn, Noor al-
Ḥaqq, and Aloys Sprenger, Calcutta: Asiatic Society of Bengal 1857.
162
Devin Stewart, “Reflections on the State of the Art in Western Qur’anic Studies,” in Islam and Its
Past: Jahiliyya, Late Antiquity, and the Qur’an, ed. Carol Bakhos and Michael Cook (Corby: Oxford University
Press, 2017), 11.
53
at the University of Kiel, and then at the University of Strasbourg from 1872 until his retirement.

Nöldeke’s research covered various areas in the fields of the Hebrew Bible, Islam, and

linguistics.163

In 1858 the French Académie des Inscriptions invited scholars from all over Europe to

submit studies for a competition for research on the chronology of the qur’ānic text in light of

Muḥammad’s life.164 The result of the competition was a tie between Nöldeke, Sprenger, and

the Italian scholar Michele Amari (1806–1889), among whom the prize was divided equally.

The work of Amari seems to have never been published. Nöldeke received the award for an

expanded edition of his dissertation. Sprenger was awarded the prize for a work which he would

subsequently publish as Das Leben und die Lehre des Moḥammad.165

Nöldeke published the study for which he won the award under the title Geschichte des

Qorāns in 1860. This work became the standard textbook for students in the field and it was

developed in different editions by Nöldeke, his student Schwally, and other scholars.166

Nöldeke relies on many preceding scholars in this work, but he is particularly indebted to Geiger

and Weil.167 In a manner similar to Geiger, Nöldeke points out the influence of Jewish traditions

on the Qur’ān, but he also emphasizes the role of Christian lore. At the outset of Geschichte des

Qorāns he states:

163
Bernhard Maier, Gründerzeit der Orientalistik: Theodor Nöldekes Leben und Werk im Spiegel seiner Briefe
(Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2013), 37-81.
164
The announcement for the competition demanded that the scholars would “déterminer autant qu’il est possible,
avec l’aide des historiens arabes et des commentateurs et d’après l’examen des morceaux [coraniques] eux-mêmes,
les moments de la vie de Mahomet auxquels ils se rapportent.” See William Watt, Bell’s Introduction to the Qur’ān
(Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1970), 175.
165
Reynolds, The Qur’ān and Its Biblical Subtext, 4; Stewart, “Reflections on the State of the Art,” 11.
166
The first edition of Nöldeke’s book was Theodor Nöldeke, Geschichte des Qorāns. Göttingen: Verlag der
Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1860. The second edition of the book was prepared by Nöldeke and Friedrich
Schwally under the same title, while including a revised edition of Nöldeke’s book as the first volume (Erster Teil)
under the new title Über den Ursprung des Qorāns, and Schwally’s Die Sammlung des Qorans as the second
volume (Zweiter Teil), ed. and revised by Schwally, Leipzig: Weicher, 1909, 1919. The second edition of the latter
work included an additional third volume (Dritten Teil) by Gotthelf Bergsträsser and Otto Pretzl called Die
Geschichte des Korantextes, Leipzig: Weicher, 1938; reprint: 3 vols. in 1, Hildesheim: Olms, 1970. For the English
translation of this work see Theodor Nöldeke, Friedrich Schwally, Gotthelf Bergsträsser and Otto Pretzl, The
History of the Qur’ān, trans. Wolfgang Behn. Leiden: Brill, 2013.
167
Nöldeke refers to Geiger’s book as “ingenious investigations” (scharfsinnigen Untersuchungen), expressing his
desire that this work would be resumed by other scholars. See GdQ, 5 and n. 2.
54
 The principal source of the [Qur’ānic] revelations was undoubtedly Jewish

scripture … Muḥammad’s entire doctrine carries already in its first sūras the

obvious traces of this origin. It would be superfluous to explain here that not

only most of the histories of the prophets in the Koran but also many of the

dogmas and laws are of Jewish origin. … apart from Jewish influence on the

Prophet there was also a Christian counterpart … In some instances the Christian

origin is beyond doubt. For me this includes the institution of vigils, several

forms of the prayer rite, the designation of revelation as ‫فرقان‬, which can have

been derived only from Christian Aramaic … then the central importance and

notion of the Final Judgement, and, above all, Jesus’ superiority over all the

prophets.168

From Weil, Nöldeke takes the fourfold division of the Qur’ān into three Meccan periods

and one Medinan period, which he develops. Nöldeke however emphasizes the problematic

nature of the historical and exegetical Islamic sources for establishing the chronology of the

Qur’ān. He explains that these sources comprise many doubtful accounts and contain numerous

contradictions. Nöldeke, therefore, finds these sources unhelpful for identifying the chronology

of sūras from the Meccan period, which is devoid of cardinal occurrences. However, he finds

these Islamic sources particularly useful for identifying the chronology of the Medinan sūras,

which relate to major events in the life of Muḥammad and the early Muslim community:169

Anyone studying the history of Muḥammad realizes immediately the difference

between the transmission of events before and after the emigration. In the former

case, only a few reliable memoirs from a small circle are available, with

uncertain chronology and many legends, whereas in the latter case, pure history

168
Nöldeke et al., The History of the Qur’ān, 5-6. For the original German text see Nöldeke et al., Geschichte des
Qorāns (Leipzig: Weicher, 1938), 6-8. The first edition of the work contains a somewhat different text. See GdQ,
5-7.
169
Nöldeke et al., The History of the Qur’ān, 47-8.
55
 predominates, enabling us to trace the events from year to year. We can thus

establish a chronology of the Medinan sūras with accurate details.170

Nöldeke, therefore, concludes that the accuracy of the chronological lists formulated by

medieval Muslim scholars is tentative. Alternatively, he argues that Islamic traditions are useful

in establishing the chronology only once examined in light of a proper understanding of the

formulation of the qur’ānic text, which he believes to have evolved through stylistic decline:

Thus, if we, like later Muslims, were to depend solely, or almost solely, on

transmissions from older teachers, we would rarely arrive at a solid, or even less

frequently, at an accurate result. Yet there still remains one reliable aid that leads

to a profitable use of traditions, namely a precise appreciation of the sense and

diction of the Koran itself. By careful observation even the casual reader of the

Koran will become increasingly convinced that the passages with passionate

diction and ideas must have been promulgated earlier than those with serene,

broad content. We realize that Muḥammad moved from the first style to the

second gradually rather instantaneously, and that he displays individual

gradations in both.171

Nöldeke’s main contribution in this regard is his discussion and periodization of the texts which

he considers as belonging to the three Meccan periods. He locates these texts on a spectrum

between the two poles of style which he describes above, corresponding respectively to the

early Meccan sūras and the later Meccan sūras.172

The early Meccan sūras, Nöldeke maintains, present God as the speaker, are poetical,

rhetorical, and rhythmic, use grandiose words and audacious images, and they allude to

170
Ibid., 141.
171
Ibid., 51. Nöldeke presents a few of the medieval Islamic chronological lists. See ibid., 48-50. For Nöldeke’s
notion of stylistic decline see Emmanuelle Stefanidis, “The Qur’an Made Linear: A Study of the Geschichte des
Qorâns’ Chronological Reordering,” JQS 10, no. 2 (2008): 4-5.
172
Ibid., 4-5.
56
Muḥammad’s emotions in an obscure way.173 The later Meccan sūras he describes as containing

extended monotonous narratives made of longer verses and having a protracted, dull, and

prosaic style, reducing the poetical form to the mere rhyme. These sūras present constant

repetitions, introduce weak and unclear arguments, and often present Muḥammad as addressing

general assemblies of people.174 The middle Meccan sūras, Nöldeke explains, “have no

particular character in common,” as they represent a transition between the early and later

Meccan periods, “from overwhelming enthusiasm to great serenity and on to the rather prosaic

later sūras.”175

The Medinan sūras, Nöldeke argues, do not deviate in their style from the later Meccan

sūras. These sūras are mainly defined on the basis of their content and the historical data related

to them, which enables their chronology to be established with greater accuracy. Medinan sūras

mainly address the Muslim community, not concerning moral or theological themes, but rather

issuing rules and laws for the life of the community and offering praise and rebuke for victories

or defeats in the battle field. Also, instead of attacking pagans, these sūras attack mainly the

Jews and the “waverers” (al-munāfiqūn), and only marginally the Christians.176

Historical-critical Qur’ān scholarship has thus academically established the two main

principles for approaching the Qur’ān it inherited from medieval Qur’ān scholarship. The first

principle, namely reading the Qur’ān in light of Muḥammad’s biography, was fully established

with Nöldeke’s Geschichte des Qorāns. Considering the academic authority of this work, this

approach, referred to also as “the authorial paradigm,” eventually dominated the field of

Qur’ānic Studies.177 The scholars who subscribe to this method of studying the Qur’ān formed

173
See Nöldeke et al., The History of the Qur’ān, 63. For Nöldeke’s full discussion and allocation of these sūras
see ibid., 63-95.
174
Ibid., 117. For Nöldeke’s full discussion of this theme see ibid., 118-33.
175
Ibid., 97; for the full discussion, 97-116.
176
Ibid., 139-41; and more broadly, 135-88.
177
Nicolai Sinai uses the term “the authorial paradigm” to describe this method of studying the Qur’ān. See Sinai,
“Orientalism, Authorship, and the Onset of Revelation,” 148. For the dominance of this method see Reyolds, The
Qur’ān and Its Biblical Subtext, 8-9.
57
what eventually came to be labelled as the “traditionalist” school.178 The other principle is that

the Qur’ān should, at least in part, be examined in light of its Jewish and Christian subtexts.

Academically, this was first introduced by Geiger and was subsequently confirmed by

numerous other scholars, including Nöldeke.

Islam and the World of Late Antiquity

The perception of the Qur’ān as produced by Muḥammad in Arabia through reliance on

Jewish and Christian traditions did not immediately result in its identification as a work that

belonged to the world of late antiquity, for this category had yet to be invented and defined.

The concept Late Antiquity (Die Spätantike) appeared first in the work of the Austrian art

historian Alois Riegl, Die ägyptischen Textilfunde im K. K. Österreich, published in 1889. Riegl

discusses a unique style of ancient textile ornament he could not define either as Roman or as

medieval. He therefore referred to it as belonging to “die spätantiker Zeit,” which he defined as

the period extending between the 4th and 7th centuries.179

Riegl subsequently published Stilfragen: Grundlegungen zu einer Geschichte der

Ornamentik in 1893.180 In this work Riegl traces the continuity in vegetal and tendril ornaments

throughout the ancient Near East, the classical Greek, Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine

worlds, and finally the early and medieval Islamic culture. Here Riegl does not offer a definition

of late antiquity. However, discussing Byzantine art, he states that “Byzantine art is nothing

more than the late antique art of the eastern Roman Empire.”181 Riegl emphasizes that this

178
For the “traditionalist school” and its distinction from “revisionism” see Angelika Neuwirth, “Qur’an and
History – a Disputed Relationship. Some Reflections on Qur’anic History and History in the Qur’an,” JQS 5, no.
1 (2010): 1-18.
179
Alois Riegl, Die ägyptischen Textilfunde im K. K. Österreich Museum: Allgemeine Charakteristik und Katalog
(Vienna: Waldheim, 1889), xv-xxiv.
180
Alois Riegl. Stilfragen: Grundlegungen zu einer Geschichte der Ornamentik. Berlin: Siemens, 1893. For the
English translation see Alois Riegl. Problems of Style: Foundations for a History of Ornament, trans. Evelyn Kain.
Princeton, NJ: Princeton University, 1992.
181
Riegl, Problems of Style, 240.
58
category of Byzantine late antique art is in continuity with Hellenistic and classical art,182 and

it also includes the art of Sassanian Persia.183 Riegl asserts that Islamic art represents a

continuation of late antique art, while explicating the common motifs it shares with Byzantine

and Sassanian art,184 as he concludes that:

The Islamic artists consciously resolved to expand upon the inherited germ of

an idea that had already begun to sprout among the people of antiquity; in this

respect as well, the difference between late antique and Islamic ornament seems

to be merely a matter of degree rather than some deep-seated distinction.185

Riegl does not identify the exact point in Islamic history in which late antiquity comes to an

end. He states however that the ornaments of the mosque of Ibn Tulun in Cario, built between

876 and 879 CE, indicate the beginning of a departure from Byzantine style, as he places “the

divergence of medieval Byzantine and Islamic tendril ornament … within the tenth and eleventh

centuries.”186

Riegl published Historische Grammatik der bildenden Künste in two editions between

the years 1897 and 1899.187 In this work he examines the development of visual art throughout

antiquity, the middle ages, and the modern period. Here also Riegl does not explicitly define

late antiquity. He however asserts that classical antiquity comes to an end with the Edict of

Milan, stating: “The first period encompasses all antiquity to the year 313 C.E. with the

182
Riegl writes, “What we think of specially as the mature products of the Byzantines were not really their own
inventions at all but the heritage bequeathed by the greatest artistic energy and creativity of the Hellenistic period.”
Ibid., 241.
183
Riegl states that “we need to advance a different view of the Sassanian-Persian monuments, one that would
include them as part of the Byzantine transformations of antique tendril ornament. … The scholars of forty years
ago or more … who still worked with open minds and an unbiased view of historical developments, did not for an
instant doubt the close connection between Sassanian and Western Art.” Ibid., 262.
184
See ibid., 245-305.
185
Ibid., 271.
186
Ibid., 288.
187
Both editions were published under the same cover. See Alois Riegl. Historische Grammatik der bildenden
Künste: Aus dem Nachlass herausgegeben von Karl M. Swoboda und Otto Pächt, Graz: Böhlau, 1966. For the
English translation see Alois Riegl. Historical Grammar of the Visual Arts, trans. Jacqueline Jung. New York:
Zone Books, 2004.
59
proclamation of Christianity as the official state religion in the Roman Empire.”188 Riegl is

more assertive in this work concerning the relationship of Islamic art to Byzantine art, stating

that, “Islamic art is a Byzantine art; it took the latter as a direct starting point while extracting

from it anything that suggested unperfected manifestations of nature.”189

Riegl subsequently published Die Spätrömische Kunstindustrie in 1901.190 He

emphasizes at the outset that he uses the term “late Roman” in the title and throughout the work

to indicate “late antique,” since the Roman empire encompassed also the Greek and Near

Eastern cultures.191 In the introduction Riegl states that “the principal object of all the studies

contained in this book” is to question the belief in “an unbridgeable gap between late Roman

art and the art of preceding classical antiquity” and to destroy the widespread prejudice that

“late Roman art did not constitute progress but merely decay.”192 Nevertheless, though rejecting

these notions of regression and chasm and while arguing instead for “constant progress,” Riegl

explains that the historian must “differentiate individual periods of art.”193 He therefore delimits

late antiquity, pronouncing “the Edict of Milan (313 A.D.) and the beginning of the reign of

Charlemagne (768 A.D.) as chronological limits for the period of late Roman art.”194

188
Riegl, Historical Grammar of the Visual Arts, 55.
189
Ibid., 72. Italics mine. Riegl also explains that due to the difference between Christian and Islamic theologies,
Byzantine and Islamic arts did in certain respects stand “in direct opposition to each other.” Ibid., 73. In this book
Riegl designates a subsection for “Late Antique Art.” See ibid., 380-93. He however discusses late antique art in
relationship to the art of classical antiquity, while focusing his discussion on the latter and without referring to
Islam. He offers a brief articulation of the uniqueness of late antique art. See ibid., 388.
190
Alois Riegl. Die Spätrömische Kunstindustrie nach den Funden in Österreich-Ungarn. Vienna: Österreichische
Staatsdruckerei, 1901. For the English translation see Alois Riegl. Late Roman Art Industry, trans. Rolf Winkes,
Rome: G. Bretschneider, 1985.
191
Riegl, Late Roman Art Industry, 14-15.
192
Ibid., 8.
193
Ibid., 15.
194
Ibid. Riegl perceives the artistic manifestations of the late antique period as governed by a unique Kunstwollen
(artistic will). See ibid., 223-5 and 230-33. For Riegl’s application of the term Kunstwollen see Moshe Barasch,
Modern Theories of Art, vol. 2, From Impressionism to Kandinsky (New York: New York University Press, l998),
164-8; Benjamin Binstock, “Foreward: Aloïs Riegl, Monumental Ruin: Why we Still Need to Read Historical
Grammar of the Visual Arts,” in Riegl, Historical Grammar of the Visual Arts, 13-19.
60
Brown’s Redefinition of Late Antiquity

The periodization of “Late Antiquity” was appropriated after Riegl under different

labels. Numerous scholars from the various disciplines of history offered divergent perspectives

and different timeframes for it.195 Studies subsequent to Riegl’s however generally considered

early Islam an outsider to the field due to the prevailing notion, expressed clearly by Henri

Pirenne, that “the advent of Islam in the Mediterranean sealed the end of Late Antiquity.”196

The persistence of this view is evident in Jones’ The Later Roman Empire, 284–602, published

in 1964, which still perceived late antiquity to end before the birth of Islam.

This notion was not dispelled until the publication of Peter Brown’s The World of Late

Antiquity: AD 150–750 in 1971. As the subtitle clearly indicates, Brown extended the timeframe

of late antiquity beyond that offered by Jones. Another subtitle under which Brown’s book is

also published, From Marcus Aurelius to Muhammad, further reveals that his new definition of

the field embraced early Islam. Both subtitles are somewhat misleading, since Brown extends

late antiquity to the rule of Hārūn al-Rashīd (786 – 809 CE), beyond Muḥammad and 750 CE.

Brown, in a manner similar to Riegl, expanded late antiquity to include not merely early

Islam but also the Persian empire that was inherited by it.197 However, in contrast to Riegl,

Brown perceives the eastern terrain to be late antiquity’s dramatic center, and the early ‘Abbasid

rule, not the Carolingian Empire, its natural conclusion. Brown declares his inauguration of a

shift in the definition of the chronological and geographic boundaries of the field, writing:

195
For a survey of the studies produced in the 20th century see Stefan Rebenich, “Late Antiquity in Modern Eyes,”
in A Companion to Late Antiquity, ed. Philip Rousseau (Chichester, U.K.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), 86-92. For
Riegl’s influence and the subsequent development of the field see Andrea Giardina, “Explosion of Late Antiquity,”
in Late Antiquity on the Eve of Islam, ed. Averil Cameron (Farnham: Ashgate, 2013), 1-23.
196
Judith Herrin, The Formation of Christendom (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987), 134. For
Pirenne’s work on this theme see Henri Pirenne, “Mahomet et Charlemagne,” RBPH 1 (1922): 77–86; Pirenne,
Mahomet et Charlemagne (Bruxelles: Nouvelle Société d’éditions, 1937); reprint: Mohammed and Charlemagne
(London: George Allen & Unwin, 1939). For a discussion of Pirenne’s thesis see Peter Brown, “‘Mohammed and
Charlemagne’ by Henri Pirenne,” Daedalus, 103, no. 1 (1974): 25-33.
197
Scott Johnson, “Preface: On the Uniqueness of Late Antiquity,” in The Oxford Handbook of Late Antiquity, ed.
Scott Johnson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), xv.
61
 Throughout this period, the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia are the main

theatres of change. The world of the northern barbarians remained peripheral to

these areas. Britain, northern Gaul, the Danubian provinces after the Slav

invasions of the sixth century fall outside my purview. The narrative itself

gravitates towards the eastern Mediterranean; the account ends more naturally

at the Baghdad of Harun al-Rashid than at the remote Aachen of his

contemporary, Charlemagne.198

Unlike preceding historians, who focused on political and economic transformations, Brown

adopted a cultural approach that placed an emphasis on the central role of religion in historical

development. His work highlights the continuity in the late antique world, “both West and East,

pointing to the similarities of expression among Jews, Christians, and Muslims (as well as

Zoroastrians and Manichaeans) in the realms of society, religion, and the arts.”199

Arabia, the Qur’ān and the Late Antique World

Brown begins his discussion of Islam’s relationship to the late antique world by stating

that already before the birth of Islam the inhabitants of Arabia were deeply associated and

acquainted with the Byzantine and Persian worlds through trade. They were also conversant

with Judaism and Christianity through the settlement of Jewish tribes in Medina and Christian

communities in the region of Yemen. These civilizations and traditions therefore had a clear

impact on the cultural and religious lives of the Arabs before Islam.200 Brown explains that in

this context Muḥammad played a decisive historical role by uniting the Arab tribes under the

banner of the foreign ideals of the fear of God and “the terrible choice of the Last Judgment,

infallibly revealed to him in a Sacred Book,” which he borrows from Judaism and

198
Peter Brown, The World of Late Antiquity, AD 150–750 (London: Thames & Hudson, 1971), 9.
199
Johnson, op. cit., xv.
200
Brown, op. cit., 189.
62
Christianity.201 The message of Islam eventually succeeded in transforming the loyalty of the

Arabs from their numerous tribes, which continuously existed in conflict with each other, to the

one meta-tribe, the Umma, that feuded only with the “unbelievers.”202

Brown perceives the rise of Islam as “the last, most rapid crisis in the religious history

of the Late Antique period.”203 He maintains, nevertheless, that the Islamic conquests and the

early Islamic rule and culture did not present a breach, as much as a continuity, with the late

antique world. This continuity was sustained due to several factors. Thus, from a religious

perspective, Islam bridged the gap between the Arabs and their neighboring religious

communities, making “the Arab Muslim the equal of the ‘God-fearing’ Jew and Christian. The

Qur’an provided the illiterate Arab tribesmen with the basis of a literary culture that imitated,

and would soon rival, the Bible of the Christian monk and the Torah of the rabbi.”204

Politically, the Arabs established a regime that maintained their superiority while

implementing tolerance towards the conquered populations. These were not treated as occupied

people but rather “as the rich neighbours of the Arabs who paid protection-money to the

‘Umma, to the Muslims, in return for military defence.”205 The social and cultural lives of these

conquered populations did not undergo a profound fracture under the new administration,

although they faced political and economic restrictions.206 Thus, the literary culture of the

Christians was not affected by the new regime as “Syrian abbots were quietly reading Plato and

Aristotle” and “St John Damascene, summed up the orthodox tradition of past centuries in the

shelter of the court of the califs.”207 The continuity of this world was also preserved by the

201
Ibid., 191.
202
Ibid., 191-92.
203
Ibid., 189.
204
Ibid., 192.
205
Ibid., 194 and 196.
206
Ibid., 196.
207
Ibid., 197.
63
Arabs, whose architectural projects were constructed in Byzantine style, as is evident in the

great monuments of the Dome of the Rock and the Umayyad Mosque.208

As the Umayyad rule assimilated various components from the Byzantine world, the

‘Abbasid rule integrated numerous elements from the Persian political and intellectual culture.

‘Abbasid Caliphs established their courts and ruled in a style equivalent to that of the preceding

Persian Shahs.209 The ‘Abbasid Caliphate inaugurated two initiatives that prevented the loss of

late antique culture. It firstly facilitated the integration of non-Muslims into the Umma by

substituting Arab superiority with the principle of the equality of all Muslims. This new policy

accelerated the conversion of people from different ethnic and religious backgrounds,

particularly Christian and Zoroastrian. The ‘Abbasids secondly initiated the translation

movement under the supervision of Syriac-speaking Christians who translated the classical

works of Greek philosophy, medicine, mathematics, and other disciplines into Arabic. The

acquisition of leading administrative and intellectual positions by these new converts to Islam

and the mediation of classical knowledge into Arabic ensured the perpetuation of the late

antique intellectual heritage in the Islamic empire.210

The World of Late Antiquity was foundational in relocating early Islam within that

world. Though for a long period the rise Islam was perceived to mark the end of late antiquity,

studies subsequent to Brown have rendered it “an academic truism that ‘Islam’ belongs to ‘late

antiquity.’”211 Brown’s work, as indicated above, emphasizes the centrality of the Qur’ān in

208
Ibid., 197.
209
Ibid., 201.
210
Ibid., 198 and 202.
211
Chase Robinson, “Reconstructing Early Islam: Truth and Consequences,” in Method and Theory in the Study
of Islamic Origins, ed. Herbert Berg (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 101. For studies on early Islam’s relationship with the
late antique world, see Robert Hoyland, Seeing Islam as Others Saw it: A Survey and Evaluation of Christian,
Jewish, and Zoroastrian Writings on Early Islam (Princeton, NJ: Darwin Press, 1997), Ch. 1; Hugh Kennedy,
“Islam,” in Late Antiquity: A Guide to the Postclassical World, ed. Glen Bowersock et al. (Cambridge, MA:
Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999), 219-37; Averil Cameron, The Mediterranean World in Late
Antiquity: AD 395-700 (London: Routledge, 2012), Ch. 9; Thomas Sizgorich, Violence and Belief in Late
Antiquity: Militant Devotion in Christianity and Islam (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009),
Chs. 5-8; Aziz Al-Azmeh, The Emergence of Islam in Late Antiquity: Allāh and His People, New York: Cambridge
University Press, 2014; Guy Stroumsa, The Making of the Abrahamic Religions in Late Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2015), Chs. 5 and 7-10.
64
bridging the chasm between the Arab inhabitants of Arabia and the late antique world. It

explains that the Qur’ān constituted to these Arabs a divine scripture that provided them with

an ethical basis equivalent to that of other scriptures.212 Nevertheless, Brown’s book, as a study

of cultural history, does not offer an examination of the text of the Qur’ān as a late antique

work. The main scholar to accomplish this task is Angelika Neuwirth, one of the leading

scholars of Qur’ānic Studies.

Neuwirth’s views of the formation of the Qur’ān are worth a lengthy presentation for

two main reasons. Firstly, she has done more than any other scholar to establish the Qur’ān as

a late antique text. Secondly, Neuwirth is perceived to be the “matriarch” of the traditionalist

school of Qur’ānic Studies, and her arguments and conclusions are generally representative of

this school. The next section will present her main views concerning the formation of the Qur’ān

in the context of late antiquity.

The Qur’ān as a Late Antique Text

Neuwirth emphasizes the centrality of Geiger’s Was hat Mohammed aus dem

Judenthume aufgenommen? for Qur’ānic Studies. She argues that this work, and the historical-

critical Qur’ān research that followed in its footsteps, tilted the axis of European scholarship on

the Qur’ān by locating it in the context of late antiquity:

This [approach] represented a shift in perspective, retrieving the Qur’ān from its

insertion into a frame of reference of paganism, the jāhiliyya, which was

frequently stereotyped into the ‘radical other’ of Islamic revelation, and

relocating it in the broader context of late antique tradition formation in the

Middle East.213

212
Ibid., 191-2.
213
Angelika Neuwirth, “‘In the Full Light of History’: The Wissenschaft des Judentums and the Beginnings of
Critical Qur’ān Research,” in „Im vollen Licht der Geschichte“: Die Wissenschaft des Judentums und die Anfänge
der Koranforschung, ed. Dirk Hartwig et al. (Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2008), 14. As the survey above indicates,
medieval Western studies on the Qur’ān recognized from their outset that the Qur’ān draws upon biblical and post-
65
Neuwirth explicates that this novel methodology originated from a revolution in Biblical

Studies. The eighteenth and nineteenth century witnessed a shift in Biblical Studies from a

theological approach in the service of religious institutes to a historical-critical approach based

primarily on philological inquiry. This new methodology, which resulted in locating the biblical

text in its historical and geographical context in the ancient Near East, was eventually extended

to Qur’ānic Studies. Scholars of the Qur’ān began to examine it in the context of late

antiquity.214

The main downside of this otherwise innovative perspective, Neuwirth argues, is that it

limited the perception of the Qur’ān to a document that recasts biblical texts. The Qur’ān has

been largely reduced – from the beginning of historical-critical research to this day – to an

uncomprehensive “epigonism” of an original Urtext: the Bible.215 Thus, instead of being studied

as a unified work, “the text [of the Qur’ān] is immediately broken down into haphazard textual

pieces that only need to be screened for their Christian essence.”216

Neuwirth accepts the foundational axiom that the Qur’ān originated in Arabia as an oral

monotheist announcement delivered by a messenger to a community of believers. She however

rejects Geiger’s simplistic model – in which Muḥammad simply functions as “borrower” who

transmits materials from the biblical lore to the Qur’ān – in favor of a more dialectical

understanding. She explicitly states that her research builds upon that of Nöldeke, particularly

biblical traditions. Geiger is therefore clearly not the first scholar to demonstrate this connection. Furthermore,
Geiger’s work did establish the Qur’ān’s interaction with late antique Jewish traditions. Nevertheless, the claim
that his research and the studies that followed in his footsteps located the Qur’ān in the context of late antiquity
remains anachronistic, since this periodization was first invented by Riegl in 1889.
214
Neuwirth, “Qur’ānic Studies and Philology: Qur’ānic Textual Politics of Staging, Penetrating, and Finally
Eclipsing Biblical Tradition,” in Qur’ānic Studies Today, ed. Angelika Neuwirth and Michael Sells (New York:
Routledge, 2016), 179-80.
215
Neuwirth, “‘In the Full Light of History,’” 16-17; Neuwirth, “Qur’ānic Studies and Philology,” 179-80;
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam in the ‘Epistemic Space’ of Late Antiquity,” in Islam and Its Past,
170.
216
Neuwirth, “Introduction,” in Scripture, Poetry, and the Making of a Community: Reading the Qur’an as a
Literary Text, ed. Angelika Neuwirth (Oxford: Oxford University Press / London: The Institute of Ismaili Studies,
2014), xx.
66
his examination and division of the Meccan sūras.217 Nevertheless, her research presents a much

more complex view of the evolution of the Qur’ān than Nöldeke’s model of “linear succession

of monological discourses” that express “stylistic decline.”218 Instead she explains:

Qur’ānic text sections should not be exposed exclusively to a synchronic, “flat

reading” that views them horizontally as juxtaposed single units, but should be

read “vertically,” thus revealing through subtexts and super-texts the ongoing

historical communication process which distinguishes the Qur’ān from other

Scriptures. The Qur’ān will thus present itself as an ongoing dialogue raising

questions and giving answers, only to be questioned again and responded to

again.219

The role of the qur’ānic community in the generation of the Qur’ān, Neuwirth argues,

has been diminished by medieval Islamic scholarship, which focused mainly on the individual

role of Muḥammad as a proclaimer of a message, and subsequently also by modern critical

scholarship, which was primarily centered on textual analysis of the Qur’ān. Neuwirth’s

research aims instead to demonstrate that the qur’ānic text was not simply formed through the

transmission of traditions to the qur’ānic community. The Qur’ān, she argues, rather emerged

through an interaction between various late antique religious communities in which the

mediation of knowledge was governed by a hermeneutical process.220

Through examining the literary genres of the Qur’ān, Neuwirth recognizes that it

discloses an interplay between various entities at different phases. In the first stage of this

interplay the biblical lore is mediated by Muḥammad to his Arab recipients, who were familiar

217
Angelika Neuwirth, Studien zur Komposition der mekkanischen Suren: die literarische Form des Koran - ein
Zeugnis seiner Historizität? (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2007), 175-6. Angelika Neuwirth, “Meccan Texts – Medinan
Additions? Politics and the Re-Reading of Liturgical Communications,” in Words, Texts and Concepts Cruising
the Mediterranean Sea: Studies on the Sources, Contents and Influences of Islamic Civilization and Arabic
Philosophy and Science, ed. Rüdiger Arnzen and Jörn Thielmann (Leuven: Peeters Publishers, 2004), 75;
Neuwirth, “Form and Structure of the Qur’ān,” EQ, II: 255.
218
Stefanidis, “The Qur’an Made Linear,” 6-7.
219
Neuwirth, “Meccan Texts – Medinan Additions?,” 75.
220
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 167-8.
67
with Arabian beliefs and traditions and were also acquainted with biblical and post-biblical

traditions. This community, subsequently, remodels this biblical knowledge in light of its

Arabian cultural tradition, of which it also offers new readings while negotiating its unique

identity with other religious communities. Through this process, this community gradually

transforms into the qur’ānic community.221 The Qur’an “in its final stage displays a successful

osmosis between these two [the biblical and the Arabian] cultural heritages.” 222 It should

therefore be approached as an original scripture – a holistic work that stands in its own right,

and not simply as a collection of “duplications.” Due to this process of gradual formation, the

Qur’ān can therefore be properly investigated only through a diachronic reading.223

Neuwirth expounds the Qur’ān as a late antique work by identifying two of its main

dimensions. The first dimension involves the Qur’ān’s meta-theology and modus operandi as a

unified scripture, which correspond with those of other late antique compositions. The second

dimension concerns the chronological formulation of the Qur’ān in distinct stages. In each of

these stages, the specific qur’ānic texts draw upon particular late antique biblical and Arabic

religious traditions and theological themes, remolding them to produce their own unique

proclamation. The following sections will discuss Neuwirth’s views concerning both these

dimensions in the Qur’ān.

The Qur’ān as a Late Antique Scripture

Discussing the first feature of the Qur’ān as scripture, Neuwirth explains that the Qur’ān

presents a concept of the logos that is congruent with the Jewish and Christians traditions. Thus,

though the Qur’ān rejects the Christian belief in the incarnate Christ, the logos, it nevertheless

presents itself in an analogous manner to this Christian notion, as the embodied manifestation

221
Ibid., 167-8; Neuwirth, “Introduction,” xxi-xxv.
222
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 168.
223
Neuwirth, “Introduction,” xix-xxi.
68
of the Word of God.224 The Qur’ān, furthermore, indicates a correlation between the revealed

word, the logos, and the created universe, the cosmos, which also corresponds with the one

found in the Jewish and Christian traditions. The Qur’ān presents the cosmos as its counterpart

text, being created according to the precepts of the logos. The cosmos consequently contains

coded paraenetic signs (āyāt) that are embedded in the natural world and in human history

which testify to the wisdom and sovereignty of God. The Qur’ān is therefore meant to assist

humans to decode the signs (āyāt) of this cosmic text, the universe.225

This perception of the relationship between the logos and the cosmos is revealed in the

first verses of Sūrat al-Raḥmān:

The [Most] Merciful,

[He] has taught the Qur’ān (the Divine Word),

[He] has created the Human Being,

[He] has taught him speech,

The sun and the moon [follow] a meticulous calculation,

and the star(s) and the trees prostrate [themselves] (Q 55.1-6).

The Qur’ān does not refer here to language as being generated due to the process of

creation, which is subsequent to it. Rather, creation is introduced as being formed and modeled

according to linguistic rules that preceded it. The divine Word, the logos, precedes the creation

of nature and also of humans, whose existence is intrinsically associated with language.226

These notions are revealed in a clearer way in Sūrat al-Balad. This sūra begins with the

statement, “No! I swear by this town” (Q 90.1), and then refers to the distress of man (Q 90.4),

224
For the Qur’ān’s reference to itself as the “embodiment” of the original scripture found with God, see Q 43.2-
4; 85.21-22.
225
Neuwirth, “Introduction,” xxvii-xxviii; Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’ān in the Epistemic Space of Late
Antiquity,” in Books and Written Culture of the Islamic World: Studies Presented to Claude Gilliot on the
Occasion of his 75th Birthday, ed. Andrew Rippin and Roberto Tottoli (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 172.
226
Neuwirth, “Introduction,” xxiii-xxiv; Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’ān in the Epistemic Space,” 172-3.
69
reminding him of his accountability to God who is superior to him in might and sees his actions

(Q 90.5, 7). God is then presented as stating:

Have We not made for him [man] a pair of eyes (‘aynayn)?

And a tongue and a pair of lips (shafatayn)?

And have guided him on the two highways? (Q 90.8-10).

God’s reference to the human as a created being with two eyes, a tongue, and two lips is meant

as a divine reminder that he is morally accountable. By presenting humans as harmoniously

created with pairs of eyes and lips, this qur’ānic unit indicates that his creation was governed

by morphological rules.

The “two highways” mentioned in Q 90.10 denote the topography of the town, Mecca,

referred to in Q 90.1-2, and also signify the biblical topos of the contrasting “two ways” of life,

moral and immoral. The reference to the “two highways,” subsequent to the depiction of the

human as a created being (Q 90.8-9), indicates that the sūra projects the symmetrical structure

of the human as a microcosm on the town, the macrocosm.227 The sūra therefore implies that

the linguistic structure which preceded humans’ creation and dictated their physical

configuration should also mold their morality, as both these dimensions of human existence –

the physical and the moral – should also extend to their habitat, the human community.228

These texts reveal that the qur’ānic community was negotiating both the biblical and the

Arabian world views. Thus, the Qur’ān’s presentation of the relationship between the logos and

the cosmos, its own text and the universe, is profoundly congruent with biblical and post-

227
The reading of the “two ways” as moral options is confirmed in the subsequent verses. The sūra states that those
who break through the “difficult” path (Q 90.12) – those who free the slave, feed the hungry orphan or the needy
poor (Q 90.13-16), and become from among the believers who practice patience and mercy (Q 90.17) – are “the
companions of the right” (Q 90.18). However, those who reject the revelation of God are “the companions of the
left” (Q 90.19) who will be punished with fire (Q 90.20). The reference to “the companions of the right” and “the
companions of the left” clearly draws upon the depiction of the judgment of the nations in Matthew’s Gospel (Matt
25.31-46). The latter text relates that in the final judgment Jesus will “put the sheep at his right hand and the goats
at the left … [and] will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom
prepared for you from the foundation of the world … then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are
accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matt 25.33-34, 41). See
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’ān in the Epistemic Space,” 175-6.
228
Ibid., 173-6.
70
biblical theology. The Jewish and Christian scriptures also introduce themselves as revelations

of the sophia and the logos that interpret the physical and human universes. This notion is

subsequently developed in Patristic literature and particularly Syriac theology.229 The Qur’ān’s

presentation of creation, and particularly nature, in this context indicates that it is also

negotiating the pre-Islamic Arabian world view. Nature is generally depicted in pre-Islamic

poetry as alien and even menacing. The Qur’ān re-writes this image with another in which

nature, as part of a structured cosmos, is a harmoniously designed abode suited for humans.230

The literary features of the Qur’ān also correspond to the late antique Jewish oral

traditions. The Qur’ān presents a dialogical structure similar to the one found in the Talmud.

Analogously with the Talmudic text, the Qur’ān introduces a variety of contrasting ideas and

literary styles in the same narrow context with the intention of prompting a continuous change

in the audience’s reaction. Moreover, in a way corresponding to the Midrash’s appropriation of

passages from diverse biblical texts, the qur’ānic sūras also integrate phrases from Arabic

poetry along with synopses from biblical prophecies.231

The Qur’ān also corresponds to late antique Jewish exegetical literature. The Jewish

Targumim offered interpretive translations of the biblical texts in order to make them relevant

to the Jewish community throughout late antiquity. In a similar manner, the qur’ānic text was

continuously subject to revision by the qur’ānic community. This is evident in that later sūras

divulge modifications of earlier sūras in light of the new theological insights subsequently

acquired by the community. However, unlike the Targumim, which are translations of the

Hebrew scriptures, the formation of the Qur’ān through the successive revisions of earlier sūras

remains an internal and integral process to the same scripture.232

229
Ibid., 173; Neuwirth, “Introduction,” xxvii. The Syriac Fathers emphasize that since the world was created
through Christ, the logos, it is by nature revelatory. For this theme see Seely Beggiani, “The Typological Approach
of Syriac Sacramental Theology,” TS 64, no. 3 (2003): 543-57.
230
Angelika Neuwirth, “Structural, Linguistic, and Literary Features,” in The Cambridge Companion to the
Qur’ān, ed. Jane McAuliffe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 105-6.
231
Neuwirth, “Introduction,” xxii-xxiii.
232
Ibid., xxiv.
71
The Formation of the Qur’ān as a Late Antique Work

Neuwirth argues that when formulating the Qur’ān, the qur’ānic community engaged in

the hermeneutical process of “the biblicization of Arabian knowledge and the Arabicization of

biblical lore” through the application of various forms of typology.233 As mentioned above, she

maintains that the qur’ānic community interacted with and developed specific late antique

traditions in each distinct stage of the formulation of the Qur’ān. She designates three main

stages that could generally be labeled as liturgical, covenantal and hermeneutical. The following

sections will present a summary of the main developments that accompanied each stage.

The Formation of Liturgical Identity

The earliest re-reading of biblical traditions in the Qur’ān appears in the early Meccan

sūras’ re-enactment of psalmodic chants. These sūras, containing numerous psalmodic echoes,

indicate that the emerging qur’ānic community was establishing itself as a liturgical community

through the influence of oral Jewish or Syriac Christian liturgical traditions.234 A particular

correspondence exists between the “refrain sūras” – Sūrat al-Naba‘ (Q 78) and Sūrat al-

Raḥmān (Q 55) – and the “litanic” psalms – psalm 104 and psalm 136.235 Sūrat al-Raḥmān

reveals most about the qur’ānic community’s negotiation of biblical and Arabic traditions. As

will be demonstrated in the following sections, this sūra draws upon themes and literary

structures from pre-Islamic Arabic poetry and also from psalms 104 and 136.

233
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 170. Neuwirth emphasizes that these forms of qur’ānic
typology differ from the understanding of typology in Christian theology. See ibid., 170-72.
234
Neuwirth, “Glimpses of Paradise in the World and Lost Aspects of the World in the Hereafter: Two Qur’anic
Re-readings of Biblical Psalms,” in Scripture, Poetry, and the Making of a Community,” 79-81; Neuwirth,
“Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 173-4. The Qur’ān refers to the psalms as al-Zzubur or al-Zzubūr in Q
3.184; 16.44; 21.105; 26.196 and 35.25, and twice as David’s Zzubūr in Q 4.163 and 17.55. The phrase “And we
have written in al-Zzubūr, after the Remembrance, that the earth, my righteous servant shall inherit it” (Q 21.105)
clearly evokes Ps 39.7b, 11a, 29. Neuwirth states that Sūrat al-Kawthar (Q 108), Sūrat al-Sharḥ (Q 94), Sūrat al-
Aʻlā (Q 87), and Sūrat al-ʻAlaq (96) contain vague echoes of the psalms. She also points out that Sūrat al-
Muzzammil (Q 73) and Sūrat al-Muddaththir (Q 74) indicate the practice of reciting nightly vigils (Q 73.1-4; 74.1-
3). See Neuwirth, “Glimpses of Paradise,” 79-80.
235
Neuwirth, “Glimpses of Paradise,” 81-96. Neuwirth also discusses the dissimilarities between these sūras and
psalms.
72
Sūrat al-Raḥmān’s Symmetric and Dualistic Structures

Sūrat al-Raḥmān presents a unique symmetry and dualistic structure that indicate its

interaction with both biblical and Arabic lore. The sūra refers to the creation of the humans and

the Jinn (Q 55.14-15) and addresses both of them numerous times using the dual form.236

Besides this dual address, the sūra refers to different pairs. The first of these is God (and his

divine revelation) on the one hand, and creation (and instruction) on the other. The sūra, as

explained above, begins by associating God with the revelation of the Qur’ān (Q 55.1-2), and

then it presents its counterpart as the creation of man by God and his instruction by him (Q

55.3-4). The sūra subsequently refers to other pairs in creation such as the sun and the moon (Q

55.5), the stars and the trees (Q 55.6), the heavens and the earth (Q 55.7-12, 29),237 the two

sunrises and the two sunsets (Q 55.17), the two seas (Q 55.19), the pearl and the coral (Q 55.22),

heavenly and earthly creatures (Q 55.29), fire and molten brass (Q 55.35), forelocks and feet

(Q 55.41), and two gardens (Q 55.46) containing two springs (Q 55.50), and two pairs of every

fruit (Q 55.52). The sūra also refers to God by two adjectives – glorious and honorable – in the

middle and the end (Q 55.27, 78).238

Sūrat al-Raḥmān’s use of the dual form reveals a clear continuity with pre-Islamic

Arabic literature. This morphological form is unfamiliar to the Jewish and Christian scriptures

but it is prominent in pre-Islamic Arabic poetry.239 The symmetry accentuated throughout the

text indicates the qur’ānic correlation of the logos and the cosmos, analogous to Jewish and

Christians traditions. Creation is clearly presented as having been harmoniously formed

236
Neuwirth “Qur’anic Readings of the Psalms,” in The Qur’ān in Context: Historical and Literary Investigations
into the Qur’ānic Milieu, ed. Angelika Neuwirth et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 752-3. The refrain appears in the
following verses: Q 55.16, 18, 21, 23, 25, 28, 30, 32, 34, 36, 38, 40, 42, 45, 47, 49, 51, 53, 55, 57, 59, 61, 63, 65,
67, 69, 71, 73, 75 and 77.
237
Q 55.7 mentions only “the heaven” while Q 55.29 mentions “the heavens.”
238
Neuwirth, op. cit., 754-62.
239
Ibid., 754.
73
according to preceding linguistic rules.240 The sūra however reveals further correspondences

with biblical and Arabic lore.

Sūrat al-Raḥmān and Psalm 104

The content of Sūrat al-Raḥmān clearly corresponds with psalm 104. The first

correspondence is found in the sūra’s statement that “the sun and the moon [follow] a

meticulous calculation” (Q 55.5), which relates astronomical bodies to the measuring of time,

as does the psalmodic phrase, “You have made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows

its time for setting” (Ps 104.19). The sūra also describes a boundary fixed between two seas:

“He released the two seas, meeting [together]. Between them [there is] a barrier [which] they

do not transgress” (Q 55.19-20). This image clearly echoes the psalm’s description of the

boundaries God established for the waters:241

You set the earth on its foundations, so that it shall never be shaken.

You cover it with the deep as with a garment; the waters stood above the

mountains.

At your rebuke they flee; at the sound of your thunder they take to flight.

They rose up to the mountains, ran down to the valleys to the place that you

appointed for them.

You set a boundary that they may not pass, so that they might not again cover

the earth (Ps 104.5-9).

The phrase, “And to Him belong the sailing [ships] elevated in the sea like mountains” (Q

55.22) also seems to echo the following verses from the same psalm:

Yonder is the sea, great and wide, creeping things innumerable are there, living

things both small and great.

240
Ibid., 754-6.
241
Ibid., 756-8.
74
 There go the ships, and Leviathan that you formed to sport in it (Ps 104.25-26).

The description of the magnitude of God’s creation in the sūra and the psalm is subsequently

followed by the contrasting of the greatness and eternity of God against the finitude and

dependence of all created beings. The sūra states:

Everyone upon it [the earth] is vanishing,

and there remains the face of your Lord who possesses majesty and honor …

Whoever is within the heavens and earth asks Him [for its need]. Every day He

is in a [state of] glory (Q 55.26-27, 29).

This echoes the following paragraph in the psalm:

These all look to you to give them their food in due season;

when you give to them, they gather it up; when you open your hand, they are

filled with good things.

When you hide your face, they are dismayed; when you take away their breath,

they die and return to their dust.

When you send forth your spirit, they are created; and you renew the face of the

ground.

May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord rejoice in his works (Ps

104.27-31).

In this context Sūrat al-Raḥmān presents God as challenging the humans and the Jinn to “pass

beyond the realms of the heavens and the earth” while asserting, “You will not pass except by

authority” (Q 55.33). This statement also corresponds with the psalmist’s proclamation

presented above: “You set a boundary that they may not pass, so that they might not again cover

the earth” (Ps 104.9).242

242
Ibid., 758-60.
75
Sūrat al-Raḥmān and Psalm 136

Sūrat al-Raḥmān also betrays remarkable correspondences with psalm 136, with which

the qur’ānic community would have been familiar due to its prominence in Jewish and Christian

liturgical traditions.243 Sūrat al-Raḥmān remodels psalm 136, employing antiphonal speech and

a recurring refrain that has a harmonious and rigid relationship with the text. The psalm’s

refrain, “for his steadfast love endures forever,” indicates the benevolence of God – as does the

sūra’s refrain, which asks the humans and the Jinn: “Then, which of the favors (ālā’) of your

Lord (rabbikumā), do you both deny (tukadhibāni)?” Both texts also conclude by praising God

(Ps 136.26; Q 55.78).244

Furthermore, after presenting their prologue, both psalm 136 and Sūrat al-Raḥmān

describe the greatness and wisdom of God revealed in his creation of the heavens, the earth,

and what is in them (Ps 136.4-9; Q 55.5-12). The psalm proclaims:

Who alone does great wonders, for his steadfast love endures forever;

who by understanding made the heavens, for his steadfast love endures forever;

who spread out the earth on the waters, for his steadfast love endures forever;

who made the great lights, for his steadfast love endures forever;

the sun to rule over the day, for his steadfast love endures forever;

the moon and stars to rule over the night, for his steadfast love endures forever

(Ps 136.4-9).

The psalmodic phrase “who by understanding made the heavens” (Ps 136.5a) is echoed in the

qur’ānic verse “and the heaven, He raised it and He has set up the Balance” (Q 55.7). Similarly,

243
Already in the Babylonian Talmud psalm 136 is known as the “the great Praise” (he-Hallēl ha-Gadōl) due to
its introductory and concluding calls for the praise of God. See the Tractate Pesaḥim (b.Pes. 118a). During
Passover Psalm 135 is recited in the morning, and Psalm 136 is recited on the seventh day of the feast. See Ismar
Elbogen, Jewish Liturgy: A Comprehensive History (Philadelpha, PA: The Jewish Publication Society, 1993), 115.
In Byzantine tradition psalms 135 and 136 (134 and 135 in Eastern tradition) are known as the Polyeleos, meaning
“of much mercy,” deriving from the refrain of psalm 136. Except at Easter and Easter week, the Polyeleos is sung
in the morning services and during all the feasts associated with Jesus, Mary, and certain other saints. See Neil
Moran, Singers in Late Byzantine and Slavonic Painting (Leiden: Brill, 1986), 87-8.
244
Neuwirth “Qur’anic Readings of the Psalms,” 764-5 and 768-9.
76
the phrase “who spread out the earth on the waters” (Ps 136.6a) is echoed in the verse “and the

earth, He laid it [out] for the creatures” (Q 55.10). Psalm 136 also emphasizes that God created

the heavenly bodies so that they would serve in regulating the times: “who made the great lights

… the sun to rule over the day … the moon and stars to rule over the night” (Ps 136.7-9). The

same notion is found in Sūrat al-Raḥmān, which states: “The sun and the moon [follow] a

meticulous calculation, and the star(s) and the trees prostrate [themselves] (Q 55.5-6).”245

The comparison of psalm 136 and Sūrat al-Raḥmān, however, also reveals points of

divergence. Whereas the psalm’s refrain proclaims the eternal love of God, the sūra’s refrain

addresses the dual crowds of the humans and the mythical Jinn. The tone presented here is that

of rebuke toward both crowds, lest they deny the signs or favors of God.246

The divergence between the texts is particularly manifest in their relationship to history

and time. Psalm 136 recalls God’s salvation of and care for the people of Israel and his judgment

of certain enemies in specific phases of past history (Ps 136.10-22). It thus refers to God’s role

in rescuing the Israelites from the Egyptians in the Exodus (Ps 136.10-15), how he led them

through the wilderness (Ps 136.16a), how he struck the kings of the Amorites who opposed

them (Ps 136.17-20) and gave the Israelites their land as inheritance (Ps 136.21-22). Sūrat al-

Raḥmān, in its corresponding section (Q 55.31-45), takes the reader however to an

eschatological and mythic universe. Unlike Psalm 136, this part of the sūra moves beyond the

realm of human history. It substitutes past events with an eschatological age, describing the

forthcoming day of judgment and the punishment of non-believers (Q 55.37-44). Furthermore,

instead of referring to particular peoples and individuals, Sūrat al-Raḥmān addresses the

humans and the mythical Jinn. The sections are congruent only in the tension they depict in the

divine salvation of “the believers” and the divine judgement executed upon “the non-believers.”

This tension is particularly evident in the psalm’s description of the judgment of Israel’s

245
Ibid., 767.
246
Ibid., 768.
77
enemies (Ps 136.17-20) where each act of judgement is followed by the contrasting refrain “for

his steadfast love endures forever.” Similarly, the corresponding section in Sūrat al-Raḥmān

(Q 55.35-45) where each reference to God’s act of judgement is followed by the refrain

emphasizing God’s favors.247

Sūrat al-Raḥmān and Arabic Poetry

Sūrat al-Raḥmān’s shift to the eschatological instead of the historical realm reveals that

the text is not merely debating the biblical tradition but also pre-Islamic Arabian poetry. This

is particularly evident in the last part of the sūra, which portrays Paradise and its pleasures as

the reward for the believers (Q 55.46-76). The believers are thus promised exceptionally

beautiful women (Q 55.56-58, 70-74), gardens, springs of water, trees and fruits (Q 55.62-68).

This image is in absolute opposition to the world presented in Arabic poetry. The latter depicts

a fatalistic universe of despair and decay in which time has rendered nature into a landscape of

wilderness and ruin. It is a world devoid of human society, community, and civilization. The

poet remains cureless and alien to this domain, in which the desolation is irreversible. Sūrat al-

Raḥmān responds to this image of despair by presenting an eschatological redemption of nature

and civilization. It substitutes for the world of the Arab poet one in which creation, and

everything in it, is found under the absolute sovereignty of God.248

The Formation of Covenantal Theology

Sūras from the middle and third Meccan periods indicate that the qur’anic community

sought to develop a covenantal theology. These sūras reveal the community’s endeavor to

differentiate itself from the Meccan religious establishment by associating itself instead with

the Holy Land and presenting itself as the heir of the Israelites. This new covenantal theology

247
Ibid., 768-70.
248
Ibid., 772-5.
78
is established through several processes: equating the Qur’ān with the Hebrew Bible, presenting

Muḥammad as equivalent to preceding prophets and particularly Moses, claiming Jerusalem

and the Holy Land as sacred to Islam, and finally claiming Abraham as the pre-Islamic Arab

founder of Meccan monotheism.

The Qur’ān as the Equivalent of the Hebrew Bible

The Qur’ān, at this stage, equates itself with the Hebrew Bible in three main ways.

Firstly, middle Meccan sūras present explicit statements referring to the Qur’ān as a

continuation of the Hebrew Bible. These sūras, secondly, retell and refer to numerous biblical

accounts and also call the Qur’ān “the Reminder” (al-Dhikr), sent to remind people of these

accounts.249 Thirdly, these sūras apply typology. They refer to the Qur’ān not merely as a

recitation, but rather as “the Scripture” (al-Kitāb), designating it as a scripture equivalent to the

scriptures of the Jews and the Christians, to whom it refers as “the People of the Scripture” (Ahl

al-Kitāb).250 This development reveals that at this stage the qur’ānic community was aware that

the late antique world had initiated “Scripture” as the most elevated level of religious authority

and wanted its proclamation to receive this status.251

249
In middle Meccan sūras the Qur’ān refers to itself clearly as equivalent to the Hebrew Bible and as its
continuation. Sūrat al-’Anbyā’ states that “this [Qur’ān] is the Reminder (Dhikr) of those with me [Muḥammad]
and the Reminder (Dhikr) of those from before me” (Q 21.24). The same sūra subsequently refers to the Hebrew
Bible also as Dhikr: “And [certainly] We granted Moses and Aaron the Criterion (al-Furqān) and a light and a
Reminder (Dhikr) for the pious” (Q 21.48) and then again affirms, “And this [Qur’ān] is a blessed Reminder
(Dhikr) which We have sent down” (Q 21.50a). Sūrat al-Shu‘arā’ also asserts that the Qur’ān is found “in the
Scriptures of the ancients” (Q 26.196). Sūrat al-Mu’minūn similarly asks: “Have they not reflected upon the Word,
or did [there] come to them that which did not come to their earliest fathers?” (Q 23.68). In this phase, various
units retell biblical accounts. Sūrat al-Ḥijr for example retells the biblical accounts of Abraham’s visitors and the
destruction of Sodom (Q 15.51-74). Sūrat Ṭaha retells the story of Moses (Q 20.9-98) and Sūrat Nūḥ retells the
story of Noah (Q 71). The Qur’ān refers to itself at this stage numerous times as the “Remembrance” or the
“Reminder” (Dhikr) of past biblical events. See Q 15.6, 9; 20.99; 21.2, 24, 50; 25.18, 29; 36.11, 69; 38.1, 8, 87;
43.5, 44; 73.3. It also uses the derivatives of dh. k. r. (.‫ ر‬.‫ ك‬.‫ )ذ‬to portray itself as reminding people of past biblical
events in Q 20.3, 113; 37.13, 155; 38.29; 44.58; 54.17, 40.
250
See Q 15.1; 17.14; 18.1, 27; 19.16, 41, 51, 54, 56; 21.10, 24, 50; 26.2; Q 27.1; 38.29; 43.2; 44.2; 50.4.
251
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 175-7. For the rise of Scripture as the superior authority in
late antique religions, see Guy Stroumsa, The End of Sacrifice: Religious Transformations in Late Antiquity
(Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2009), 28-55.
79
Muḥammad as Equivalent to Moses

Besides equating the Qur’ān with the Hebrew Bible, middle Meccan sūras also equate

Muḥammad with preceding biblical messengers and prophets. It does so both explicitly and

typologically by presenting events in the lives of these messengers as paralleling the life of

Muḥammad.252 This process is interconnected with the qur’ānic community’s expansion of its

religious topography beyond Arabia to include the Holy Land, as is revealed in Sūrat al-’Isrā’s

reference to Muḥammad’s night journey:

Praise be to Him who carried His servant by night (’asrā) from the Holy Place

of Worship (al-Masjid al-Ḥarām) to the farthest Place of Worship (al-Masjid

al-’Aqṣá), the vicinity of which we have blessed that We might show him Our

signs. He is the [all] Hearing, the [all] Seeing (Q 17.1).

This night journey thus claims the location of the Temple Mount, the farthest Place of Worship,

to be an Islamic worship site, a masjid, equal to the Meccan sanctuary, al-Masjid al-Ḥarām.

The text however goes beyond Jerusalem to include the Holy Land, as it mentions that God has

also blessed the vicinity of al-Masjid al-’Aqṣá. The text further associates Muḥammad with

Moses and the night journey with the Exodus of the Israelites, typologically referring to the

journey as ’isrā’, the same term which Sūrat Ṭaha and Sūrat al-Shu‘arā’ use to describe the

Exodus (Q 20.77; 26.52).253 It seems that during this period the qur’ānic community also

adopted Jerusalem as its qibla, the direction the believers should face during prayer.254

252
Middle Meccan sūras state that Muḥammad was rejected by his people as preceding messengers were rejected
by their people (Q 15.10-11; 43.23-24). Other sūras present the rejection of Muḥammad as equivalent to the
rejection of other prophets. In Sūrat al-Qamar for example Muḥammad is rejected by his people, who will be
punished by God (Q 54.1-8, 43-51), as Noah also was rejected by his people who were punished (Q 54.9-16).
Similarly, the people of Lot and the people of Pharaoh did not adhere to the warning of God and were punished
(Q 54.33-39, 41-42). Besides the biblical accounts, the sūra also draws parallels between Muḥammad’s people and
the extinct Arabic tribes of ‘Ād and Thamūd, who also rejected the warnings of God and were punished (Q 54.18-
21, 23-31). This theme is discussed in a detailed manner in the Second chapter. See pages 113-7.
253
The corresponding verses in Sūrat Ṭaha and Sūrat al-Shu‘arā’ read: “And We gave inspiration to Moses
[saying]: “Travel by night (’asrī) with My servants and strike for them a dry path in the sea; you will not fear being
overtaken, nor will you be afraid” (Q 20.77); “And We gave inspiration to Moses [saying]: ‘Travel by night (’asrī)
with My servants; you will [surely] be pursued” (Q 26.52).
254
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 176-7.
80
Abraham as the Arab Founder of Meccan Proto-Monotheism

The covenantal perspective that the qur’ānic community develops during the second

Meccan period is subsequently continued through the association of Abraham with Mecca.

Thus, Sūrat Ibrāhīm, belonging to the third Meccan period, presents Abraham as praying for

Mecca (Q 14.35-41):

And [mention], when Abraham said, “My Lord, make this town secure and

safeguard me and my sons from worshipping idols. …

Our Lord, I have settled some of my offspring in an uncultivated valley near

Your Sacred House (baytika al-muḥarram), our Lord, that they may establish

the [regular] prayer. So cause hearts from [some among] the people to yearn

towards them and provide them with fruits: so that they may give thanks (Q

14.35, 37).

The text clearly corresponds to Genesis 15. There God establishes a covenant with Abraham,

promising that he will give the Promised Land to his descendants (Gen 15.18-21). In Sūrat

Ibrāhīm Abraham blesses Mecca, the town in which God’s sacred house is located, stating that

he settled some of his offspring in it so that they would establish the true worship of God. The

qur’ānic community is clearly claiming Abraham here not only as an Arab ancestor but also its

patriarch, the one who founded the proto-monotheist community in the midst of Meccan

paganism. Against this paganism they, as Abraham’s successors, continue to struggle. As in Q

17.1, this text reveals that the qur’ānic community is developing a unique theology that

differentiates it from the rest of the Meccan religious establishment. It does so by presenting

itself as the heir of the Israelites, by claiming their patriarch and prophets, and by associating

itself with the Holy Land through a re-reading of biblical traditions into its Arabian context.255

255
Ibid., 177-8.
81
The process that begins here of elevating Mecca to the level of the Holy Land and the Ka‘ba to

that of the Jerusalem Temple is completed in the Medinan period.

The Formation of New Hermeneutics

The Medinan period witnessed a greater interaction between the qur’ānic community

and “the People of the Scripture,” especially the Jews. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān particularly indicates

the community’s adaptation of rabbinic hermeneutics. The sūra classifies the verses of the

Qur’ān into two categories: āyāt muḥkamāt and āyāt mutashābihāt (Q 3.7). The text suggests

that the latter are verses whose meaning is ambiguous, as it states that dishonest people “will

follow that which is ambiguous in it [the Qur’ān] (mā tashābaha minhu), desiring sedition and

desiring to interpret it” (Q 3.7). The āyāt muḥkamāt are therefore the unambiguous verses,

defined in this context as “the Mother of the Scripture (Umm al-Kitāb)” (Q 3.7).256

This hermeneutical classification corresponds with Mishnaic categories of

interpretation. The reference to the āyāt muḥkamāt as Umm al-Kitāb evokes the rabbinic

hermeneutical principle known as yēsh ēm la-miqrā. This principle states that the meaning of

the biblical text should be established on the basis of its reading according to the traditionally

accepted pronunciation.257 The concept of mutashābih, indicating ambiguity and a multiplicity

of interpretations, is congruent with the rabbinic hermeneutical notion of the manifold “faces

of the Torah.”258

256
Neuwirth, “Mary and Jesus – Counterbalancing the Biblical Patriarchs. A Re-reading of Sūrat Maryam (Q. 19)
in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān (Q. 3),” in Scripture, Poetry, and the Making of a Community, 362-4. The Qur’ān describes its
entirety as muḥkam in one verse and as mutashābih in another. Q 11.1 refers to the Qur’ān as “kitābun ’ḥkimat
āyātuhu.” The word ’ḥkimat in this context might mean “perfect,” “plain,” “decisive,” or “precise.” See DQS, 228-
9. The word mutashābih can mean “resemble,” “similar,” “look alike,” or “allegorical” or “appearing confusingly
as similar.” See DSQ, 475. Q 39.23 refers, not to certain verses, but to the Qur’ān as “kitāban mutashābihan.” The
context of this term indicates that mutashābih here means “consistent.”
257
This category is contrasted in rabbinic literature with the concept “yēsh ēm la-masoret,” which indicates that
the authoritative interpretation is one based on the spelling of the consonantal text as handed down in tradition.
For both these rabbinic concepts see Aron Dotan, “Masorah,” EJ, 13: 609, 611-15.
258
Neuwirth, “Mary and Jesus,” 363-4. Neuwirth also argues that the contrast between muḥkam and mutashābih
in this context echoes the Aristotelian concepts of πιθανός, meaning “probable,” and ἀμφίβολος, meaning
“doubtful” or “uncertain,” used in Hellenistic rhetoric. See ibid., 363. Rabbinic literature refers to the “seventy
faces of the Torah” (Shib‘im Panim la-Torah) to emphasize the principle of the multiplicity of possible
82
 During the Medinan period the qur’ānic community changes its qibla from Jerusalem

to Mecca, establishing the Ka‘ba as its most sacred shrine. This shift in the community’s

worship is further established through the implementation of Jewish and Christian allegorical

and typological interpretations.259 This development is disclosed in two main texts: the retelling

of the biblical account of the binding of Isaac found in Sūrat Al-Ṣāffāt (Q 37.100-109) and the

account of the laying of the foundations of the Ka‘ba by Abraham and Ishmael in Sūrat al-

Baqara (Q 2.126-128). Jewish tradition understood the location of the binding to be the site of

the Jerusalem Temple. Christian tradition read the text typologically in light of the crucifixion

of Jesus, interpreting Abraham and Isaac as types of God the Father and God the Son. The first

account of Sūrat Al-Ṣāffāt claims this cosmic center as a foundation upon which the second

account of Sūrat al-Baqara establishes the Ka’ba as the monotheistic axis mundi.260

Sūrat Al-Ṣāffāt, belonging to the middle Meccan period, presents a “binding” account

(Q 37.102-111) that generally corresponds to the one found in Genesis 22. Verse 102 of this

sūra, which is a later insertion from the Medinan period, locates the account of the binding in a

Meccan context:

And when he [the son] had attained with him [to] al-sa‘y he [Abraham] said: “O

my son! I have seen in a dream that I shall slay you. Consider then, what do you

think?” He said, “My father, do whatever you are commanded. You will find

me, if Allah wills, from among the steadfast” (Q 37.102).

The meaning of the sa‘y is evasive, rendering the first phrase of the verse very ambiguous. It is

thus difficult to determine whether it means that Abraham’ son, who remains anonymous,

reached the age for performing the sa‘y, or reached the location of the sa‘y. The term seems

however to indicate the ritual of running between al-Ṣafā and al-Marwah during the pilgrimage

interpretations of the biblical texts. For this notion see Allen Maller, “A Torah with 70 Different Faces,” JBQ 41,
no. 1 (2013): 28-31.
259
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 179.
260
Ibid., 179-81.
83
to the Ka‘ba, a ritual also practiced in the pre-Islamic period before it was adopted by the

Muslims.261 This implies that Q 37.102 relocates the binding from Jerusalem to the region of

the Ka‘ba.262

Sūrat al-Baqara, from the early Medinan period, develops the association of Abraham

and his son with the Ka‘ba:

And [mention] when his [Abraham’s] Lord tried Abraham with his commands,

and he fulfilled them. He said, “[Surely] I will make you a leader (imām) for the

people (al-nās).” He [Abraham] said, “And from my offspring?” He [Allah]

said, “My covenant shall not reach the unjust.”

And [mention] when We made the House a place of visitation for the people and

[a place of] safety, “and take to yourselves Abraham’s sanctuary (maqām) as a

place for prayer (muṣallá).” And We covenanted (‘ahidnā) with Abraham and

Ishmael [saying]: “Purify My House for those who perform Ṭawāf (al-ṭa’ifeen)

and those dedicated [to it], and those who bow and prostrate [themselves in

worship].

And [mention] when Abraham said, “My Lord make this [town] a secure town

and provide its inhabitants with fruits – whoever of them believes in Allah and

the Last Day.” [Allah] said, “And he who disbelieved, I will grant him

enjoyment for a short while; then I shall compel him to the torment of the Fire

and [how] wretched is the destination.”

And when Abraham was raising up the foundations of the House along with

Ishmael [they beseeched Allah saying]: “Our Lord, receive [this] from us; you

are the [All] hearing, the [All] knowing.”

261
See Reuven Firestone, “Ṣafā and Marwah,” EQ, IV: 518.
262
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 180-81.
84
 “Our Lord, and make us submissive (muslimūn) to You and from our offspring

[produce] a nation submissive (Umma muslimah) to You and show us our rites

and relent towards us; [surely] You are the [ever] relenting, the [all] merciful.”

“Our Lord, and send among them a messenger (rasūl) from themselves [who]

will recite to them Your verses and will teach them the Scripture and the wisdom

and will purify them. [Indeed], You are the [All] mighty, the [All] wise.

And who desires [a creed] aside from the creed of Abraham except he who

makes a fool of himself? And We have chosen him [Abraham] in this world and

[indeed] he is in the Hereafter from among the righteous (Q 2.124-130).

The text establishes the Ka‘ba and Mecca typologically as equivalent to, and even transcending,

the Jewish Temple and Jerusalem by associating them with Abraham and the Muslims,

presented here as his true successors. The text begins by describing how God promised to make

Abraham an imām to the people (nās) as a result of his obedience.263 As Abraham asks about

his offspring, God answers him, “My covenant shall not reach the unjust” (Q 2.124). That this

answer is meant to exclude the Jews and the Christians from the covenant is evident in a text

from Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, which also dates to the Medinan period:

O People of the Scripture, why do you dispute about Abraham, when the Torah

and the Gospel were not sent down except after him? Do you not [then] reason?

Abraham was neither a Jew nor a Christian but rather a Muslim ḥanīf, and he

was not [one] of the associators.

263
The word nās (‫ )ناس‬generally means “humans” or “people.” The context of Q 2.124 does not clarify if the use
of nās in this verse is meant to indicate that God appointed Abraham as a leader to all humankind or merely to the
people in his region.
85
 [Indeed], those who are the most entitled to Abraham [are] those who have

followed him and [have followed] this prophet, and those who believed. And

Allah is the patron of the believers (Q 3.65, 67-68).

The Qur’ān subverts the claims of the Jews and Christians to be the sons of Abraham by

presenting an argument analogous to Paul’s reasoning that the Christians, not the Jews, are the

true descendants of Abraham.264 The Qur’ān states in Q 3.65-68 that Abraham came before the

Hebrew Bible and the Gospel – that is, before Judaism and Christianity – and that he was a

Muslim or a monotheist “submitter” to God, who did not associate other beings with God. The

text thus indicates that the Jews and Christians commit this specific transgression (Q 3.65, 67).

The Muslims who follow Muḥammad are, this passage concludes, “the most entitled to

Abraham” (Q 3.68).265

After excluding the Jews and Christians from the Abrahamic covenant, Sūrat al-Baqara

states that God established his covenant with Abraham and his son Ishmael, entrusting them

with sanctifying his house (indicating the Ka‘ba). It describes how both of them laid its

foundations (Q 2.125, 127a). This theme corresponds to the depiction of Abraham laying the

foundations of Solomon’s Temple in the rabbinic tradition. The sūra emphasizes that the

Muslim Umma is the true successor of Abraham and Ishmael, depicting both of them as

beseeching God to bring forth from their offspring a Muslim nation and a messenger who would

teach the divine scripture and sanctify his nation (Q 2.127b-129). This notion is congruent with

264
In the Epistle to the Romans, Paul responds to the Jewish claim that Abraham is the father of the Jewish people
by arguing that Abraham was justified through faith and not through obedience to the Law, as God declared him
righteous before he was even circumcised (Rom 4.1-10). Paul explains that by justifying Abraham through faith,
God’s purpose was “to make him the ancestor of all who believe without being circumcised” (Rom 4.11b), as “the
promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through
the righteousness of faith” (Rom 4.13). In the Epistle to the Galatians, Paul states more explicitly that God
established his covenant with Abraham, giving the promises to him and “to his offspring … who is Christ” (Gal
3.16). Paul therefore concludes that all those who “belong to Christ … are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according
to the promise” (Gal 3.29).
265
Neuwirth, “Locating the Qur’an and Early Islam,” 181-83.
86
the Biblical proclamation that “Out of Zion shall go forth instruction (Torah), and the word of

the LORD from Jerusalem” (Isa 2.3).266

Revisionism

Neuwirth’s examination of the correspondence between the theology and text of the

Qur’ān and late antique traditions is illuminating. Her thesis about the development of the

qur’ānic text is generally representative of the traditionalist school. However, this approach is

challenged by revisionist scholarship, which offers a different view of qur’ānic origins. The

following section will present the major claims of revisionist scholars.

Aspects of the traditionalist approach to Qur’ānic Studies have been criticized since its

genesis. Already during Nöldeke’s lifetime, Ignaz Goldziher (1850-1921) expressed clear

suspicions concerning the authenticity of the Ḥadīth literature and its reliability as a historical

source.267 Goldziher argued that the creation and interpolation of ḥadīths began very early in

the Muslim community.268 His arguments were both developed and criticized by later scholars

who likewise questioned the authenticity and reliability of the Ḥadīth literature.269

The first direct challenge to the traditionalist paradigm was articulated by the Belgian

scholar Henri Lammens (1862-1937), fifty years after the publication of the first volume of

Geschichte des Qorans. Building upon Goldziher, Lammens indicates that Nöldeke himself

doubted the possibility of clear conclusions regarding the person of Muḥammad.270 Lammens,

266
Ibid., 180-83.
267
Ignaz Goldziher, Muslim Studies, vol. 2, trans. Christa Barber and Samuel Stern (London: George Allen and
Unwin, 1971), 19.
268
Herbert Berg, The Development of Exegesis, 9-12.
269
In the second chapter of his work, “Ḥadīth Criticism,” Berg discusses the various academic schools that
evaluated the Ḥadīth literature. See ibid, 8-64.
270
Henri Lammens, “The Koran and Tradition: How the Life of Muhammad was Composed,” in The Quest for
the Historical Muhammad, ed. and trans. Ibn Warraq (New York: Prometheus Books, 2000), 169. The article first
appeared in French: Henri Lammens, “Qoran et tradition: Comment fut composé la vie de Mahomet,” RSR 1
(1910): 25-51. Nöldeke himself expressed at an older age the clear uncertainty of inquiries into the character of
Muḥammad, an endeavour that he took in “the boldness of his youthful years” when he “had no fear.” See
Nöldeke’s review of Annali dell’Islam, vol. i, compiled by Leone Caetani, Theodor Nöldeke, “Leone Caetani,
Annali dell’Islam, von TH. Nöldeke,” WZKM 21 (1907): 298 and n. 3.
87
in a manner similar to Goldziher, accepts that “for the Medinan period of the life of Muhammad

a vague oral tradition existed from the beginning of the Hijra.” However, he expresses

uncertainty concerning its preservation, as he argues that “from an early stage it [that oral

tradition] was tampered with by being adjusted violently to the Koran…” 271 After discussing

various Sīra accounts, Lammens concludes that the biographical information regarding

Muḥammad’s life was not recollected by the early Muslim community, but was rather

constructed by Muslim exegetes to serve as means for the interpretation of the Qur’ān, and

therefore it cannot be considered as the basis for the exposition of the Qur’ān.272

The influence of Lammens’ conclusions on later scholarship is not clear. Other scholars,

however, raised similar objections to the traditionalist paradigm. Régis Blachère (1900–1973)

thus objected to Nöldeke’s method of establishing the chronology of the Qur’ān through

reliance on Islamic traditions and not solely on a literary basis.273 The British Arabist Richard

Bell argues in his famous Introduction to the Qur’ān, in opposition to Nöldeke’s assertion that

each sūra could be referred to a specific period of Muḥammad’s life, that “there is… no reliable

tradition as to the historical order of the Qur’ān.”274 Bell bases this argument on an observation

very similar to Lammens’, as he asserts that the Tafsīr literature does not often explain the

historical context of the related qur’ānic texts, mainly because they frequently differ, and also

because they “turn out, when critically examined, to be imagined from the passages

themselves.”275 Thus, according to Bell, the Tafsīr literature does not include true biographical

materials about the life of Muḥammad, as much as it generates these fictitious accounts in an

attempt to explain the related qur’ānic texts.

271
Lammens, “The Koran and Tradition,” 170.
272
Ibid., 171-179.
273
See Régis Blachère, Introduction au Coran (Paris: Maisonneuve, 1959), 252-3.
274
Richard Bell, Introduction to the Qurʼān (Edinburgh: University Press, 1963), 100; see also Andrew Rippen,
“Reading the Qur’ān with Richard Bell,” JAOS 112 (1992), 643.
275
Bell, op. cit., 100
88
 Nevertheless, scholars who criticized or doubted the traditionalist paradigm remained a

minority, and their voices did not have a significant influence on the field. To a certain point,

most scholars of Qur’ānic and early Islamic Studies shared a common epistemological approach

and methodology that, as expected, resulted in similar scholarly conclusions.276 A greater

challenge to the traditionalist approach in the late 1970s through the scholarship of John

Wansbrough. Influenced by Goldzieher and Lammens, Wansbrough pushed their conclusions

to new extremes in two main works, Quranic Studies: Sources and Methods of Scriptural

Interpretation (1977) and The Sectarian Milieu: Content and Composition of Islamic Salvation

History (1978).277

Wansbrough initially indicates the problematic nature of the early Islamic sources

for the reconstruction of historical truth. He thus explains:

bereft of archaeological witness and hardly attested in pre-Islamic Arabic or

external sources, the seventh-century Ḥijāz owes its historiographical existence

almost entirely to the creative endeavor of Muslim and Orientalist

scholarship.278

Wansbrough elaborates that all the knowledge that the modern scholar possesses of the first

two centuries of Islam originates from Islamic literature that dates from the end of the second

Islamic century.279 Wansbrough therefore argues that the Qur’ān, Ḥadīth, Tafsīr, and Sīra

literature should not be approached as containing true accounts of the factual history of the

emerging Muslim community, but rather as literary works of salvation history.280

276
Herbert Berg, “The Implications of, and the Opposition to, the Methods and Theories of John Wansbrough,”
MTSR 9, no. 1 (1997), 5.
277
John Wansbrough. Quranic Studies: Sources and Methods of Scriptural Interpretation. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1977; Reprint: Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2004; Wansbrough. The Sectarian Milieu:
Content and Composition of Islamic Salvation History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978.
278
John Wansbrough, Res Ipsa Loquitur: History and Mimesis (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and
Humanities, 1987), 9.
279
Berg, op. cit., 5-6.
280
Andrew Rippen, “Literary Analysis of Qur’ān, Tafsīr, and Sīra: The Methodologies of John Wansbrough,” in
Approaches to Islam in Religious Studies, ed. Richard Martin (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1985), 154.
89
Consequently he concludes that this basically means that these collections of early Islamic

literature should not be analyzed by means of historical methods, but rather by means of a

literary analysis that relies on form and redaction criticism.281

Wansbrough’s conclusions were radical compared to all that came before him. The

assertion that the early Muslim traditions go back to Muḥammad himself have always been

challenged in academic scholarship, but Wansbrough’s repudiation of the Qur’ān’s antiquity

was novel. He deduced that an Ur-Qur’ān never existed and that the notion of Mecca as the

birthplace of Islam is merely mythical. Wansbrough explicates that the qur’ānic formulae give

“the impression of a composition made up of originally unrelated pericopes.” 282 These

pericopes, he argues, were integrated into a scripture, the Qur’ān, in the eighth or the ninth

century in ‘Abbasid Iraq, and not in the seventh-century Ḥijāz. In this ‘Abbasid context in which

the Muslims canonized the Qur’ān, they also articulated their own salvation history – not in

response to paganism, but rather to a Jewish and Christian monotheistic sectarian milieu.283 He

therefore also deduces that the Tafsīr literature originated from the Muslim community’s

attempt to establish a separate and distinct origin story in response to the same challenges.284

Scholars who accepted Wansbrough’s conclusions, and others who rejected the

traditionalist paradigm, agreed mainly on disassociating the Qur’ān from the biography of

Muḥammad, accepting that the link between both bodies of literature was fictional and

artificially fabricated by later generations of Muslims. However, besides adhering to this major

assumption, these “revisionists” could not agree on a single alternative narrative of qur’ānic

281
Wansbrough, Res Ipsa Loquitur, 14-15. Wansbrough basically applied to the study of early Islamic literature
similar methods to the ones Jacob Neusner and Rudolf Bultman applied to the study of Judaism and early
Christianity, respectively. See Berg, op. cit., 7.
282
Wansbrough, Quranic Studies, 12.
283
Wansbrough, Sectarian Milieu, 147.
284
Wansbrough thus concludes: “Tafsīr traditions, like tradition in every other field, reflect a single impulse: to
demonstrate the Hijazi origins of Islam.” See Wansbrough, Quranic Studies, 179.
90
origins. Their studies therefore produced differing and even contrasting theories that “form[ed]

a cacophony, not a symphony.”285

The Current State of Qur’ānic Studies and this Research

The “confusion” that emerged due to the alternative readings of qur’ānic and Islamic

origins could not be contained in the revisionist camp. Though the works of the revisionists

remain a sub-culture within Islamic Studies, Wansbough’s conclusions had a seismic impact

on the whole field. The disputes between scholars adhering to the traditional narrative of Islamic

origins, versus the revisionists and other scholars on the spectrum in between, have led

Neuwirth to wonder if Qur’ānic Studies are now in “a hapless chaos.”286 No one describes this

notion better than Fred Donner:

Qur’ānic studies, as a field of academic research, appears today to be in a state

of disarray. Those of us who study Islam’s origins have to admit collectively

that we simply do not know some very basic things about the Qur’ān – things so

basic that the knowledge of them is usually taken for granted by scholars dealing

with other texts. They include such questions as: How did the Qur’ān originate?

Where did it come from, and when did it first appear? How was it first written?

In what kind of language was – is – it written? What form did it first take? Who

constituted its first audience? How was it transmitted from one generation to

another, especially in its early years? When, how, and by whom was it codified?

Those familiar with the Qur’ān and the scholarship on it will know that to ask

even one of these questions immediately plunges us into realms of grave

285
Gabriel Reynolds, “Introduction,” in The Qur’ān in Its Historical Context, ed. Gabriel Reynolds (New York:
Routledge, 2008), 9.
286
Angelika Neuwirth, “Zur Archäologie einer Heiligen Schrift: Überlegungen zum Koran vor seiner
Kompilation,” in Streit um den Koran: Die Luxenberg-Debatte: Standpunkte und Hintergründe, ed. Christoph
Burgmer (Berlin: Schiler, 2004), 82.
91
 uncertainty and has the potential to spark intense debate.287

Donner definitely exaggerates when stating that scholars of “Islam’s origins have to

admit collectively” not knowing “very basic things about the Qur’ān.” He could have more

accurately stated that there is no consensus concerning many, and even major, themes among

all the scholars in the field. Nevertheless, the absence of such a consensus should not necessarily

be perceived as a mere “chaos” or “confusion” but rather as a great opportunity for dialogue,

without which scholarly progress is impossible.

Western study of the Qur’ān has from its genesis recognized that the Qur’ān evolved

through interaction with other religious traditions, particularly Jewish and Christian. The

redefinition of late antiquity by Brown emphasized the role of the Qur’ān in the mediation

between the Arabs and the late antique world. Neuwirth’s research has clearly demonstrated

the late antique textual and theological facets of the Qur’ān. The current disagreements over the

formation and chronology of the Qur’ān do not undercut these general conclusions concerning

the late antique nature of the qur’ānic text. Thus, whether the Qur’ān was associated with

Muḥammad or not – whether it was formed inside or outside Arabia, in the seventh or the eighth

century – the late antique features it developed through interaction with late antique traditions

remain confirmed.

This study does not intend nor presume to answer any of the debated questions

concerning the formation of the Qur’ān. Its main objective, as noted earlier, is the examination

of the qur’ānic nativity accounts in light of late antique traditions. It will nevertheless touch

upon some of these questions and will offer general observations concerning them.

Fred Donner, “The Qur’ān in Recent Scholarship: Challenges and Desiderata,” in The Qur’ān in its Historical
287

Context, 29.
92
 Chapter Two

Mary’s Identity in the Qur’ān

This current chapter will discuss, in three main sections, the qur’ānic references to the

Virgin Mary as “sister of Aaron” in Q 19.28, daughter of “the wife of ‘Imrān” in Q 3.35-36 and

as “daughter of ‘Imrān” in Q 66.12. The first section will first explore the mufassirūn’s attempts

to interpret these references in ways which emphasize that the qur’ānic texts do not conflate the

figures of the Virgin Mary and Miriam “the Prophetess,” the sister of Moses. It will then

demonstrate that some of these mufassirūn use certain Prot. Jas. traditions in their commentary

on this theme. The second section will discuss the way in which these qur’ānic references have

been interpreted in modern scholarship. It will begin by presenting a general survey of various

scholarly attempts at explaining these references and will present a detailed analysis of the

interpretations offered by four scholars in the last two decades: Samir Samir, Roberto Tottoli,

Suleiman Mourad and Guillaume Dye. The presentation of these scholars’ discussions will be

followed by an evaluation of their arguments. The concluding third section is my attempt at

introducing alternative readings of these qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity.

The Qur’ānic References to Mary’s Identity

Sūrat Maryam contains a single reference to Mary’s identity. After giving birth to Jesus,

Mary goes back to her people, who rebuke her for coming with “something perplexing” (Q

19.27). They say to her:

(Q 19.28) O sister of Aaron! Your father was not a man of evil, nor was your

mother a harlot.

.‫ك باغِيًّا‬
ِ ‫ت أ ُُّم‬ ٍ ِ ‫َي أُخت هارو ان ما اكا ان أاب‬
ْ ‫وك ْامارأا اس ْوء اواما اكانا‬ُ ‫ا ْ ا اُ ا‬
Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān introduces the name ‘Imrān first in its title, indicating the family of ‘Imrān and

emphasizing the significance of this family to the context of the sūra. This sūra also mentions
93
Āl-‘Imrān later as the fourth of the appointed progenitors who are chosen by God “over the

worlds.” These progenitors are genealogically related to each other:

(Q 3.33) [Surely] Allah chose Adam and Noah and the family of Abraham (Āl-

Ibrāhīm) and the family of ‘Imrān (Āl-‘Imrān) over the worlds.

‫آل إِبْ ار ِاه ايم او ا‬

.‫آل ِع ْمارا ان اعلاى الْ اعالا ِمني‬ ‫وحا او ا‬
ً ُ‫آد ام اون‬
‫اصطاافى ا‬ َّ ‫إِ َّن‬
ْ ‫اَّللا‬
(Q 3.34) Offspring (dhurriyya) one from another; and Allah is [all] hearer, [all]

knower.

.‫يع اعلِ ٌيم‬ ِ َّ ‫ض و‬

ٌ ‫اَّللُ اَس‬
ِ ‫ذُ ِريَّةً ب ع‬
‫ض اها م ْن با ْع ٍ ا‬
ُ ْ‫ا‬
Immediately after this reference to Āl-‘Imrān, the sūra mentions ‘Imrān’s wife (who remains

anonymous), relating that she vowed her daughter, Mary, to God:

(Q 3.35) Behold! When the wife of ‘Imrān said, “My Lord, I have vowed to You

[in dedication] what is within my belly [as a] consecrated [offering]; so accept

[it] from me. You are the [ever] Hearer, the [ever] Knower!”

ِ َّ ‫َّك أانْت‬ ِ ِ ‫ت ْامرأاةُ ِعمرا ان ر‬

ِ ِ
‫يع‬
ُ ‫السم‬ ‫ك اما ِِف باطِِْن ُُماَّرًرا فاتا اقبَّ ْل م ِِن إِن ا ا‬ ُ ‫ب إِِّن نا اذ ْر‬
‫ت لا ا‬ ‫إ ْذ قاالا ا ْ ا ا‬
.‫الْ اعلِيم‬
(Q 3.36) So when she brought her forth, she said: “My Lord! I have brought her

forth, a female” – and Allah knows best what she brought forth – “and the male

is not as the female; and I have named her Mary, and I seek in You a refuge for

her and her offspring from the accursed Satan.”

َّ ‫ت ولاْيس‬
‫الذ اك ُر اك ْاْلُنْثاى‬ ‫ض اع ْ ا ا‬ ‫اَّللُ أ ْاعلا ُم ِِباا او ا‬ ‫ب إِِّن او ا‬
َّ ‫ض ْعتُ اها أُنْثاى او‬ ِ‫ت ر‬
‫ض اعْت اها قاالا ْ ا‬
‫فالا َّما او ا‬
.‫الرِجي ِم‬
َّ ‫ان‬ِ ‫ك وذُ ِريَّتا ها ِمن الشَّيطا‬ ِ
ْ ‫اوإِِّن اَسَّْي تُ اها ام ْراَيا اوإِِّن أُعي ُذ اها بِ ا ا ا ا‬
Besides these characterizations of Mary’s identity in Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, Sūrat

al-Taḥrīm introduces one more reference to Mary as “daughter of ‘Imrān”:

(Q 66.12) And Mary, the daughter of ‘Imrān, who safeguarded her private parts

94
 (farj), so We breathed therein [something] of Our Spirit and she believed in the

words of her Lord and His Scriptures and was from [among] the obedient

[servants].

ِ ‫وحناا وص َّدقات بِ اكلِم‬

‫ات ارِّباا‬ ِ ِ ِِ ِ ‫ومراَي اب نا‬
‫ت فا ْر اج اها فانا اف ْخناا فيه م ْن ُر ا ا ْ ا‬ ‫ت ع ْمارا ان الَِِّت أا ْح ا‬
ْ ‫صنا‬ ‫ا اْ ا ْ ا‬
.‫ني‬ ِِ ِ ‫وُكتُبِ ِه واكانا‬
‫ت م ان الْ اقانت ا‬ ْ ‫ا ا‬

The Mufassirūn’s Interpretations of the References to Mary’s Identity

The mufassirūn are aware that these qur’ānic references could indicate a confusion

between the Virgin Mary and Miriam “the Prophetess,” the sister of Moses, to whom the Bible

also refers as the “sister of Aaron” (Exod 15.20) and as daughter of ‘Amram: “The children of

Amram: Aaron, Moses, and Miriam” (1Chr 6.3a). The mufassirūn are further aware that long

centuries separate Miriam from the Virgin Mary, both of whom are referred to in Arabic as

Maryam. Therefore, they grapple with these references to Mary’s genealogy in an attempt to

offer a plausible explanation of them.

The Mufassirūn’s Interpretation of the Reference “Daughter of ‘Imrān”

The mufassirūn discussed in this study solve the problematic references to ‘Imrān in

these verses by explaining that this ‘Imrān, the father of the Virgin Mary, is a different person

from the biblical ‘Imrān, the father of Miriam the Prophetess. Muqātil interprets the reference

“Āl-‘Imrān,” mentioned in Q 3.33, as indicating the family of Moses and Aaron, since they are

the children of ‘Imrān.288 Al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī explain that Āl-‘Imrān could be

understood as a reference to Moses and Aaron, the children of ‘Imrān son of Yaṣhar; or as a

reference to the family of ‘Imrān son of Māthān, the father of Mary and the grandfather of Jesus.

Muqātil ibn Sulaymān. Tafsīr (henceforth Muqātil), ed. ‘Abdallāh Muḥammad Shiḥāta. Beirut: Dār Iḥyā’ al-
288

Turāth al-‘Arabī, 2002, 1:271, on Q 3.33.

95
Al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī both state that 1800 years separate the two ‘Imrāns.289 However,

commenting on the phrase “offspring one from another” (Q 3.34), al-Zamakhsharī explains that

the lineages of both ‘Imrāns are continuous and branch out from one another as they go back to

the same origin in Jacob, son of Isaac.290

Interpreting the reference to Mary’s mother as “wife of ‘Imrān” (Q 3.35), the mufassirūn

assume that Mary was the direct descendant of this ‘Imrān, as some of them identify him as

“‘Imrān, son of Māthān” or as “‘Imrān, son of Yāshham.”291 Also in this context al-

Zamakhsharī warns about the confusion of both ‘Imrāns. He explains again that the ‘Imrān

referred to here is “‘Imrān, son of Māthān, the grandfather of ‘Isā (Jesus),” and that it is evident

that he is not “Imrān, son of Yaṣhar,” the father of Moses and Aaron, because Zechariah, the

Virgin Mary’s guardian, lived in the same generation of ‘Imrān, son of Māthān.292 Muqātil, al-

Ṭabarī and al-Zamakhsharī refer to Mary’s father, ‘Imrān, as a descendant of David.293 It is

important to note that the mufassirūn reflect familiarity with the traditions of the Prot. Jas. and

Luke’s Gospel, as they mention that Mary’s mother was called Ḥannah, and state her kinship

to Zechariah’s wife.294

Most mufassirūn do not identify the ‘Imrān mentioned in the reference to Mary as

“daughter of ‘Imrān” in Sūrat al-Taḥrīm (Q 66.12). Their expositions focus only on Mary.

289
Maḥmūd ibn ‘Umar al-Zamakhsharī. Al-Kashaf ‘an Haqā’iq al-Tanzīl wa ‘Uyūn al-’Aqaw īl fī Wujūh al-Ta’wīl
(henceforth Zamakhsharī), ed. ‘Abd al-Razzāq al-Mahdī. Beirut: Dar Iḥya’ al-Turath al-‘Arabī, 2003, 1-2:161;
Muḥammad Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī. Tafsīr al-Fakhr al-Rāzī al-Mushtahir bi al-Tafsīr al-Kabīr wa Māfatīḥ al-Ghayb
(henceforth Rāzī). Beirut: Dar al-Fīkr lil-Tibā‘a wal-Nashr wal-Tawzī‘, 1981, 8:24, both on Q 3.33.
290
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161, on Q 3.33.
291
Muqātil, 1:270; Muḥammad ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī. Jami‘ al-Bayān ‘an Ta’wil Ãyi al-Qur’ān. Ed. ‘Abdullah bin
‘Abdul Muhsin Al-Turkī (henceforth Ṭabarī). Beirut: Dār ‘ālam al-Kutub lil-Tibā‘a wa al-Nashr, 2003, 5:330-331,
both on Q 3.35.
292
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161, on Q 3.35. Al-Rāzī also briefly mentions that Zechariah and “‘Imrān son of Māthān”
were from the same generation, and that Jesus and John the Baptist were cousins. See Rāzī, 8:26, on Q 3.35.
293
Muqātil, 1:270; Ṭabarī, 5:331; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161, all on Q 3.35.
294
Muqātil, 1:217; Ṭabarī, 5:330 and 332; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161; Rāzī, 8:26, all on Q 3.36; and Ṭabarī, 5:352, on
Q 3.37. All these mufassirūn mention that Mary’s mother, to whom they refer as “Ḥannah, daughter of Fāqōdh,”
was the sister of Zechariah’s wife. Al-Ṭabarī, al-Zamakhsharī, and al-Rāzī add that Zechariah’s wife was called
’Ishā‘.
96
Muqātil, however, explains that the Imrān mentioned here designates ‘Imrān, son of Māthān,

the father of the Virgin Mary.295

The Mufassirūn on Mary as “Sister of Aaron”

Commenting on the reference to Mary as “sister of Aaron” (Q 19.28), the mufassirūn

present four different interpretations, two literal and two metaphorical. Al-Ṭabarī, al-

Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī introduce more than one reading of the phrase. One literal reading

appears in the commentaries of al-Ṭabarī and al-Zamakhsharī. According to this interpretation,

the name “Aaron” here refers to a certain immoral and adulterous person. Mary’s people

affiliated her with him because they believed that she conceived her child through an adulterous

relationship, thus bringing shame on them.296 A second literal interpretation of this reference to

Mary is presented in the work of al-Rāzī who suggests that Aaron was the brother of the Virgin

Mary. Al-Rāzī further adds that this Aaron was the finest of the people of Israel and that the

reference to Mary as his sister was meant as rebuke that is intended to question how could she

decline to such a level.297

One metaphorical interpretation of this phrase is introduced by Muqātil, al-Ṭabarī and

al-Zamakhsharī. According to this reading the name Aaron mentioned in Q 19.28 refers to

Aaron the brother of Moses, and Mary is presented in this phrase as his sister because she is

from his lineage.298 Al-Ṭabarī, who considers this interpretation among others, explains that

this reference is equivalent to calling someone who belongs to the tribe of Muḍar or the tribe

of Tamīm, “brother of Muḍar” or “brother of Tamīm.”299 This means that Mary is called “sister

of Aaron” as one could be called a “brother” of the forefather after whom the tribe is named.

295
Muqātil, 4:380, on Q 66.12.
296
Āli ibn ’Ibrahīm al-Qummī. Tafsīr (henceforth Muqātil). Beirut: Mu’assasat al-A‘lamī li-l-Maṭbū‘āt, 1991,
2:24; Ṭabarī, 15:525, both on Q 19.28.
297
Rāzī 21:209, on Q 19.28.
298
Muqātil, 2:626; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:681, both on Q 19.28.
299
Ṭabarī, 15:525, on Q 19.28.
97
 A second metaphorical interpretation, presented by al-Ṭabarī and al-Zamakhsharī,

explicates that the Aaron mentioned in this phrase is not the brother of Moses, but rather that

among the Jewish people, righteous and good persons were called “Aaron.” Mary was therefore

given this label as an indication of her goodness.300 Al-Ṭabarī adduces two other similar

traditions according to which when Muḥammad was asked about this phrase he explained: “they

[the Jews] were named after their prophets and the righteous men before them.”301 Al-Ṭabarī

therefore concludes his discussion of this phrase by saying that this is the most accurate view,

because the tradition attributes it to Muḥammad himself. Al-Ṭabarī, however, understands this

saying attributed to Muḥammad to mean that in this phrase Mary is affiliated with a man from

her people called Aaron, and not with the biblical Aaron, the brother of Moses.302

Evidence of the Mufassirūn’s Familiarity with the Prot. Jas. Tradition

Al-Zamakhsharī’s and al-Rāzī’s expositions of Q 19.28 provide evidence for the

familiarity of the Tafsīr literature with the Prot. Jas. tradition. Thus, after presenting the

different explanations for why Mary was referred to as “sister of Aaron,” al-Zamakhsharī

mentions the following tradition:

It was said that Joseph the carpenter carried Mary and her son into a cave, so

they remained in it forty days until she recovered from her puerperium, then she

came carrying him, so Jesus spoke to her on the road, saying: “O mother, be

cheerful, for I am the slave of Allah and his messiah.” So, when she entered with

him unto her people (and they are a righteous household) they pretended to weep

and said that [the phrase in Q 19.28].303

300
Ṭabarī, 15:522-3; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:681, both on Q 19.28.
301
Al-Ṭabarī puts forward another similar tradition, according to which Muḥammad said, “They were called by
the names of those who came before them.” See Ṭabarī, 15:524, on Q 19.28.
302
See Ṭabarī, 15:525, on Q 19.28.
303
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:681, on Q 19.28.
98
Al-Rāzī records a shortened version of this tradition.304

The main correspondence between this tradition, presented by al-Zamakhsharī and al-

Rāzī, and the Prot. Jas.’s portrayal of the birth of Jesus lies in their depiction of Mary’s stay in

a cave while being weary in the context of her delivery of Jesus. These tafāsīr however relate

that Joseph carried Mary and her son into the cave after she gave birth so that she would recover

from labor. The Prot. Jas. however describes Mary as being exhausted before she gives birth.

She tells Joseph during their journey to Bethlehem, “Joseph, take me down from the donkey.

The child inside me is pressing on me to come out” (PJ 17.3). The account then relates that

Joseph “found a cave and took her into it” (PJ 18.1) The Prot. Jas. account also differs from

the tradition found in al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī in that it relates that Joseph did not remain

with Mary in the cave. It thus states that, “he gave his sons to her and went out to find a midwife

in the region of Bethlehem” (PJ 18.1) before Mary gave birth to Jesus in that cave (PJ 19.2).

The Prot. Jas. does not mention the number of days Mary stayed in the cave. It does

relate however that after Mary gave birth to Jesus, Joseph could not go to Judea due to the

disturbance that was caused by the Magi, who came asking about “the king of the Jews” (PJ

21.1). The account then narrates that Herod summoned the high priests and asked them

concerning the birthplace of the Messiah. He then released the Magi, who went to the cave and

offered their gifts to Jesus (PJ 21.2-3). The account thus suggests that Mary remained with the

newborn Jesus in the cave during these events. The fact that this should have taken a certain

amount of time is not explicated in the Prot. Jas.

The origin of the reference to Mary’s stay in the cave for forty days in the tafāsīr of al-

Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī is not clear. It could however be taken from the mention of Joachim’s

fasting for forty days and nights in the introduction of the Prot. Jas. (PJ 1.4). It is interesting to

note in this regard that though the Qur’ān never refers to Joseph, the husband of Mary, al-

304
Rāzī, 21:208, on Q 19.28.
99
Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī still mention him in this context, indicating that they are relying on

traditions dependent upon the canonical gospels.

Mary’s Qur’ānic Identity in Modern Scholarship

The correspondence between the qur’ānic references to the identity of the Virgin Mary

and the biblical references to the identity of Miriam the Prophetess has also perplexed modern

scholars. Already in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century, the orientalists Luigi

Marracci, Humphrey Prideaux, and Adriaan Reeland argued that these qur’ānic references

confused both Marys, displaying a grave mistake on the part of the qur’ānic text.305 However,

a later generation of scholars who touched upon the theme in the nineteenth century dismissed

this notion of “confusion” between the Marys. In this context, the English orientalist George

Sale states the following:

It does not follow, because two persons have the same name, and have each a

father and brother who bear the same names, that they must therefore necessarily

be the same person: besides, such a mistake is inconsistent with a number of

other places in the Korân, whereby it manifestly appears that Mohammed well

knew and asserted that Moses preceded Jesus several ages. And the

commentators accordingly fail not to tell us, that there had passed about one

thousand eight hundred years between Amran the father of Moses, and Amran

the father of the Virgin Mary.306

Nevertheless, the interpretations of the mufassirūn and arguments similar to that of Sale

were not convincing enough, and the twentieth century witnessed a more elaborate wave of

305
Ludovico Marraccio, Refutatio Alcorani, In qua ad Mahumetanicae superstitionis radicem securis apponitur
& Mahumetus ipse gladio suo iugulatur (Patavii: Ex Typographia Seminarii, 1698), 115; Humphrey Prideaux, A
Discourse for the Vindicating of Christianity from the Charge of Imposture (London: William Rogers, 1712), 83;
Adriaan Reelant, De Religione Mohammedica Libri Duo (Utrecht: Gulielmi Broedelet, 1717), 211-16.
306
Sale, The Koran: Commonly Called Alcoran of Mohammed, Chap. III, 39 and n. ‘a.’ Cf. Carl Gerock, Versuch
einer Darstellung der Christologie des Korans (Hamburg und Gotha 1839), 22-28; Weil, Mohammed der Prophet,
195.
100
scholarly studies arguing again for the Qur’ān’s “confusion” between the Marys. Arthur Jeffery,

dismissing the views of contesting scholars, calls it a “well known confusion,” explaining that

one has “no need to look elsewhere than the ‫ עַ ְמ ָרם‬of the O.T. for the ultimate source of the

name.”307 Jeffery, however, interestingly explains that the Qur’ān’s direct “borrowing” of the

name was probably from the Syriac translation of the name, ‘Imran (‫)ܥܡܪܐܢ‬.308 Joseph

Henninger likewise argues that these references represent “ein enormer historischer Irrtum.”309

Henninger elaborates that the source of this “fallacy” emerged from a Syriac milieu, since the

typological relationship between both Marys is used by the Syriac author Aphrahat and also by

Gregory of Nyssa, whose works were translated into Syriac. Henninger claims that this

typology extended to popular preaching, through which it was mediated to the Qur’ān.310 This

theme has resurfaced in the last two decades in the discussions of Samir, Tottoli, Mourad, and

Dye, who in turn argue against this view of “confusion” and offer their different perspectives

on the theme. The following sections will explicate and evaluate their arguments.

Samir’s Interpretation of the Āl-‘Imrān

Samir is in agreement with Henninger’s interpretation of the qur’ānic references to

Mary’s identity. Samir, however, presents an interesting approach to this “confusion,” which

he attempts to solve as he expatiates on the reference to Āl-‘Imrān in Q 3.33. Samir’s argument

is preceded by two main observations. He is firstly perplexed by the absence of Jesus and Moses

from Q 3.33, which refers to Adam, Noah, the family of Abraham, and the family of ‘Imrān.

The absence of Jesus and Moses is puzzling, he explains, since Moses is mentioned more than

any other prophet in the Qur’ān, and because the title of the sūra is attributed to Āl-‘Imrān,

307
FV, 217. See also Wilhelm Rudolph, Die Abhängigkeit des Qorans von Judentum und Christentum (Stuttgart:
Kohlhammer, 1922), 76; David Sidersky, Les origines des légendes musulmanes dans le Coran et dans les vies
des prophètes (Paris: Geuthner, 1933), 141.
308
FV, 217.
309
Joseph Henninger, Spuren christlicher Glaubenswahrheiten im Koran (Schöneck: Administration der Neuen
Zeitschrift für Missionswissenschaft, 1951), 9.
310
Ibid., 10; Henninger, “Spuren Christlicher Glaubenswahrheiten im Koran,” NZM 1 (1945), 306-307.
101
which he interprets as indicating in this context the family of Jesus and Mary. Therefore, relying

on the mufassirūn’s distinction between the two ‘Imrāns, Samir argues that by introducing Āl-

‘Imrān in the context of Q 3.33, the sūra is simultaneously referring to two ‘Imrāns who

represent two traditions: the biblical ‘Imrān who is the father of Moses, Aaron, and Miriam,

and the qur’ānic ‘Imrān who is the father of Aaron and the Virgin Mary.311

Samir secondly explicates that the term ’iṣṭafá in Q 3.33 does not merely signify the

meaning of “choosing” but rather “establishing a covenant with.”312 Both these observations

lead Samir to conclude that Q 3.33 draws upon a Christian covenant theology:

If one accepts this working hypothesis then we will find a schema that is

typically Christian, namely “the Covenants of God with Humanity”: the

Covenant (berith) of Adam, expressed by what is known as the proto-

evangelium (Genesis 3:15); the Covenant of Noah, symbolized by the rainbow;

the Covenant of Abraham, in which all of the nations of the earth will be blessed,

given material form in the circumcision of men; the Covenant of Moses, marked

by the tablets of the Law given on Mt. Sinai; and finally the Covenant that the

Christians call the “New Covenant” in Jesus.313

Samir explains that this theme of “God’s five Covenants with humanity” was a classic theme

in Patristic literature, and that it was not only popular in the writings of Greek Fathers but is

also found in Christian works in Arabic. In particular he cites Butrus al-Bayt Ra’sī, the bishop

of Capitolia, who mentions a similar dispensation of covenants that God established with

humanity in The Book of Demonstration (Kitāb al-Burhān).314 Samir’s conclusion that the

reference to Āl-‘Imrān in Q 3.33 is extended to include the family of Jesus and Mary alongside

the original Āl-‘Imrān – the family of Moses, Aaron and Miriam – leads him to subsequently

311
Samir Samir, “The Theological Christian Influence on the Qur’ān: A Reflection,” in The Qur’ān in its Historical
Context, 143.
312
Ibid., 142.
313
Ibid., 143.
314
Ibid., 143-4.
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conclude that this reference indicates a Judeo-Christian influence on the Qur’ān.315 Samir,

however, does not proceed to discuss the relevant references found in Q 3.35 and Q 19.28.

Evaluation of Samir’s Interpretation

Samir’s argument reflects a creative approach to the theme, presenting an attempt to

take it to a level beyond the monotonous duality of “confusion/un-confusion” presented in

preceding scholarship. Samir’s observations that the term ’iṣṭafá in Q 3.33 indicates

“establishing a covenant with” is very illuminating. The signification of the term extends

beyond the meaning of “choosing” to include also the meanings of “electing” or “select in

preference to.”316 The meaning of “establishing a covenant” could further be inferred from the

fact that, in the same context of the nativity, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān emphasizes that God has

“purified” and “chosen” (’iṣṭafá) Mary “over the women of the worlds” (Q 3.42).

Samir, notwithstanding, refrains from examining the context of the reference to Āl-

‘Imrān and from discussing the sūra’s re-contextualization of the Christian traditions, even

though he claims that these traditions form its underlying theology.317 Samir is in a sense

justified in being perplexed by the absence of Jesus and Moses from the group of elected

individuals and families presented in Q 3.33. However, an examination of the numerous

qur’ānic verse-units that present a topos of genealogies of chosen individuals reveals that Moses

is mentioned in only three of them (Q 6.83-86; 17.2-3; 42.13), while Jesus is mentioned

explicitly only in one (Q 42.13) and indicated in another (Q 3.36).318 Furthermore, the Virgin

315
Samir, “The Theological Christian Influence on the Qur’ān,” 145.
316
The root ṣafā (‫ )صفا‬indicates purity and purification. The noun ṣufwah )‫صفوه‬ ُ ) therefore carries the meanings of
“elite”: the finest of a thing and what was purified from it. See Lisān, vol. 7, 370-71. The present participle ’iṣṭifā’
means “selection,” “election,” “choosing,” and “extraction.” See DQU, 529; Lisān, vol. 7, 370-71.
317
See Marx’s criticism of Samir’s general approach to the qur’ānic text in Michael Marx, “Glimpses of Mariology
in the Qur’an: From Hagiography to Theology via Religious-Political Debate,” in The Qur’ān in Context, 539-540
and 544-5.
318
I refer here to the genealogies of chosen groups of individuals and their descendants, to whom the Qur’ān
usually refers as dhurriyya. See Q 2.124-128; 3.33-34; 6.83-86; 17.3; 19.58; 29.27; 37.75-77; 37.109-113; 42.13;
57.26. See also Marx’s discussion of the theme in “Glimpses of Mariology,” 546-7.
103
Mary is not affiliated with or defined through her relationship to Moses in any of the qur’ānic

references. She is rather defined through her affiliation with Aaron (Q 19.28) and ‘Imrān (Q

3.35; 66.12), who are much less prominent figures than Moses in both the Jewish and the

Muslim traditions. The absence of Moses from Q 3.33 therefore does not lead to the conclusion

presented by Samir, namely that Moses is included under the label of Āl-‘Imrān. Rather, the

absence of an explicit reference to a character as prominent as Moses in a context in which the

figure of ‘Imrān is highlighted as the head of a genealogy could be interpreted as a theological

statement for excluding the Jewish people, or at least not representing them, in this covenant

with God.319 The absence of any affiliation of Moses with the Virgin Mary or with Jesus in the

qur’ānic nativity accounts seems to sustain this conclusion.

The specific context of Q 3.33 and the larger context of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān do not provide

any indication that the qur’ānic text attempts to introduce five covenants. Samir’s argument in

this regard is clearly driven by his concealed premise that this qur’ānic unit borrows from a

Christian tradition without engaging it or endeavoring to modify it. Furthermore, Samir’s

conclusion is somewhat peculiar. Thus, on the one hand, he seems to accept Henninger’s

argument according to which Mary is associated with ‘Imrān as a result of the Qur’ān’s

conflation of both Marys. On the other hand, Samir interprets the Āl-‘Imrān of Q 3.33 as

referring to two distinct families: that of Moses and that of Jesus. This reading undermines any

notion of “conflation” since the line of ‘Imrān, as far as it contains the family of Jesus, includes

also that of the Virgin Mary. The reference to Āl-‘Imrān in this context requires greater attention

as is demonstrated below.

The Signification of Āl-‘Imrān in Light of the Context of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

The traditionalist school of Qur’ānic Studies dates Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān to the second

319
Ibid., 547-8.
104
Medinan period, which according to the Muslim tradition witnessed remarkable tension

between the qur’ānic community and the Medinan Jews. The Muslim tradition portrays this

tension as resulting from the refusal to acknowledge the prophethood of Muḥammad by this

Jewish community.320 Nevertheless, even if one disregards the Muslim tradition and the

traditionalist approach with respect to the historical setting of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, the sūra’s anti-

Jewish polemics are sufficient to reveal that the label Āl-‘Imrān is not meant to indicate or

include the Jewish people, and it therefore cannot refer to Moses or the Mosaic covenant.

The exclusion of the Jews from a covenant relationship in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān is made

manifest once a comparison is drawn between Q 3.33-34 and Q 19.58:

Those are they upon whom Allah bestowed grace from [among] the prophets,

from the offspring (dhurriyya) of Adam and from [those] whom We carried with

Noah and from the offspring (dhurriyya) of Abraham and Israel and from [those]

whom We guided and chose. When the signs of the All-merciful were recited

unto them, they fell down in prostration, weeping (Q 19.58).

Q 3.33-34 includes the same names of the forefathers, with the exception of Israel, whom it

replaces with Āl-‘Imrān:

[Surely] Allah chose Adam and Noah and the family of Abraham (Āl-Ibrāhīm)

and the family of ‘Imrān (Āl-‘Imrān) over the worlds. Offspring (dhurriyya) one

from another; and Allah is [all] hearer, [all] knower (Q 3.33-34).

The similarity between these verse units and their respective locations in these sūras clearly

indicates that one of them makes use of the other. It is generally accepted that Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

was composed after Sūrat Maryam and recasts themes from the latter.321 However, it has been

320
David Marshall, “Christianity in the Qur’ān,” in Islamic Interpretations of Christianity, ed. Lloyd Ridgeon
(New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2001), 12-14.
321
For a discussion of the Meccan context of Sūrat Maryam, see Angelika Neuwirth, “Imagining Mary, Disputing
Jesus: Reading Sūrat Maryam and Related Meccan Texts within the Qurʼanic Communication Process,” in
Scripture, Poetry, and the Making of a Community, 328-58. For the recasting of themes from Sūrat Maryam into
Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, see Neuwirth, “Debating Christian and Jewish Traditions: Embodied Antagonisms in Sūrat Āl
‘Imrān” in Studien zur Semitistik und Arabistik: Festschrift für Hartmut Bobzin zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. Otto
105
argued that Q 19.58 is an exception to this, as it recasts Q 3.33-34 into Sūrat Maryam.322

Notwithstanding, whether Q 19.58 represents a recasting of Q 3.33 or vice versa, the thematic

link between both sūras is enhanced by the comparison of both verse units. The anti-Jewish

polemical context of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān is manifested again in the introduction of Āl-‘Imrān in

the place of “Israel” (Q 19.58) which clearly refers to the Jewish people.323

The specific context of the reference to Āl-‘Imrān (Q 3.33-34), and the two other

qur’ānic references to the figure of ‘Imrān (Q 3.35, 66.12), all indicate that Āl-‘Imrān is meant

to refer to the family of Mary, whether the Virgin Mary herself (Q 3.36), her parents (Q 3.35,

66.12), or Jesus (Q 3.45, 52). Nevertheless, the inclusion of the title Āl-‘Imrān into this

“covenant” group, along with the exclusion of the Jewish people in this later stage in the

development of the qur’ānic community, does not indicate the acceptance of Christianity into

this “covenant” group. Mary, her family and Jesus were all Jewish, and Mary and Jesus were

not necessarily perceived as “Christians” but could have been more understood as inter-

testamental figures. Furthermore, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān presents its first explicit condemnation of the

Jews as a part of a general condemnation of the People of the Scripture in Q 3.19-20:324

Jastrow et al. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2008), 281-303. For a general discussion of the recasting of themes from
Meccan into Medinan sūras, see Neuwirth, “Meccan Texts – Medinan Additions?,” 71-93. Dye does not accept
this traditionalist view of qur’ānic chronology and argues that Q 19:1-63 and Q 3:33-63 were produced outside
Arabia after the Islamic conquests of the Near East. However, he also emphasizes that Q 3:33-63 is dependent
upon the earlier text of Q 19:1-63. See Guillaume Dye, “The Qur’ān and its Hypertextuality in Light of Redaction
Criticism,” 20. Paper presented at the 4th Nangeroni Meeting: “Early Islam: The Sectarian Milieu of Late
Antiquity?,” Milan, June 18, 2014.
322
Angelika Neuwirth, “Imagining Mary, Disputing Jesus,” 332. Neuwirth argues that the notion of a divine design
in which specific characters receive divine authorization associated with their genealogy is outside the Meccan
perception of prophetology. Such a prophetology, Neuwirth argues, fully develops only in the Medinan period in
Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s references to the family of Mary. These references function as a prologue to an account that
emphasizes Mary’s genealogy in the context of certain prophetical figures that are depicted as heads of different
genealogical lines.
323
The Qur’ān usually uses “sons of Israel” (banī ’Isrā’īl) when addressing or refering to the Jewish people. See
Q 2.40, 47, 83, 122, 211, 246; 3.49, 93; 5.12, 32, 70, 72, 78, 110; 7.105, 137, 138; 10.90, 93; 17.2, 4, 101, 104;
20.47, 80, 94; 26.17, 22, 59, 197; 27.76; 40.53; 43.59; 44.30; 45.16; 46.10; 61.6, 14.
324
Neuwirth argues that Q 3.7 reflects a profound intertextuality with a rabbinic hermeneutical tradition that the
Medinan Jews seem to have mediated to the qur’ānic community. The exegetical tools that the Muslim community
acquired perhaps came at the price of a certain deviation within the community over the interpretation of qur’ānic
verses. Q 3.7 explicitly warns against a “seditious” group desiring division. See Neuwirth, “The House of Abraham
and the House of Amram: Genealogy, Patriarchal Authority, and Exegetical Professionalism,” in The Qur’ān in
Context, 515-8 and 525. Neuwirth’s hypothesis might suggest that Q 3.7 entails the condemnation of the Jews,
since the seditious group could be affiliated with them or under their influence.
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 [Indeed], the [true] religion before Allah is Islam. And those who were given the

Scripture (al-Kitāb) did not disagree except after the knowledge came to them,

out of transgression among themselves. And whoever disbelieves in the verses

of Allah, then Allah is swift in reckoning.

Thus, if they dispute with you, say: “I have surrendered (’āslamtu) my face to

Allah, and [so has] whoever followed me.” And say to those who were given the

Scripture and to the unlearned: “Have you surrendered (’āslamtum)?” Then, if

they have surrendered (’āslamū) they have been rightly guided, and if they have

turned away, then upon you [is] only [the task of] the proclamation, and Allah

is seer of the servants (Q 3.19-20).

The followers of Islam, “the [true] religion before Allah,” are distinguished here from

“those who were given the Scripture,” who “disagree” and are in “transgression among

themselves” (Q 3.19). That these references indicate a “disagreement” between the Jews and

the Christians is illuminated in the subsequent unit of Q 3.49-57. These verses portray Jesus as

a “messenger to the sons of Israel” (Q 3.49), asking them to repent and worship Allah (Q 3.50-

51). However, when Jesus becomes aware of the disbelief of the Jews, he asks, “who are my

allies (anṣār) unto [the cause of] Allah?” (Q 3.52a) and his call is answered by his disciples, al-

Ḥawāriyyūn, who respond by saying:

We are Allah’s allies (anṣār). We have believed in Allah and [we] testify that

we are submitters (muslimūn).

Our Lord, we have believed in what You have sent down and [we have] followed

the messenger (rasūl) (Q 3.52b-53a).325

325
A similar reference is found in Q 61.14: “O you who have believed! Be the allies (anṣār) of Allah, as Jesus,
son of Mary, said to the disciples (ḥawāriyyūn), ‘Who are my allies (anṣār) unto Allah?’ The disciples
(ḥawāriyyūn) said: ‘We are Allah’s allies (anṣār).’ And a faction of the sons of Israel believed and a faction
disbelieved. Therefore, We supported those who believed over their enemies and they became manifest.” For the
Qur’ān’s reference to the disciples of Jesus as ḥawāriyyūn and anṣār, see Mathias Zahniser, “Apostle,” EQ, I: 123-
4.
107
Unlike those of the “sons of Israel” who followed Jesus, those who did not believe in him

schemed against him (Q 3.54). Allah in return promises Jesus that his followers will always be

superior to those who disbelieved in him (Q 3.55), as the latter group will be severely punished

in this world and the hereafter (Q 3.56).326

Q 3.19-20 and Q 3.52-57 present a corresponding image of schism between two

religious groups. Thus, the Jewish followers of Jesus who have submitted to Allah are referred

to in Q 3.52 by the Arabic participle muslimūn, which simultaneously carries both meanings of

“submitters” and “Muslims.” These Jewish followers of Jesus further refer to themselves in the

same verse as anṣār, the term that is conventionally used in the Muslim tradition for the

inhabitants of Medina who accepted Muḥammad and his followers after they left Mecca in the

Hijra. By using this terminology to depict the Jewish followers of Jesus, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān draws

a correspondence between them and the Muslims who are also depicted in Q 3.20 as having

“surrendered” (’āslamu) to Allah. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān aligns itself with these Jews who responded

to Jesus. Thus, in the same way that Muslims are in a quarrel with “those who were given the

Scripture,” who “disagree” and are in “transgression among themselves” (Q 3.19), so also the

Jewish followers of Jesus are in conflict with the rest of the Jews who disbelieve in him (Q

3.49-57).

This alignment in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān is not presented as existing between the Muslims and

the Jews or the Christians, that are further condemned in the subsequent verses of the sūra, but

rather only between the Muslims and the Jews who follow Jesus.327 Thus, the sūra’s rejection

326
Marshall explicates that the references to Mary and Jesus in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān are to be understood in light of the
Muslim anti-Jewish polemics of this period. Jesus functions in this context as a model of Muḥammad insofar as
both of them encountered rejection by the Jews. See Marshall, “Christianity in the Qur’ān,” 13-14. This use of
Christian figures in the Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān indicates that the sūra does not introduce these characters in order to
support or promote Christianity or a certain Christian theological position.
327
The reference to the Jewish followers of Jesus in this context of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān might indicate Jewish-Christian
groups. For a discussion of the relationship between Jewish-Christian groups and Islamic origins, see Guy
Stroumsa’s “Jewish Christianity and Islamic Origins,” in Islamic Cultures, Islamic Contexts: Essays in Honor of
Professor Patricia Crone, eds. Asad Ahmed et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 72-96. It should be emphasized here that
the Qur’ān does not use the word masīḥīyūn but rather naṣārā in reference to Christians. For a general presentation
of the various scholarly views concerning the meaning of naṣārā, see Sidney Griffith, The Church in the Shadow
108
of the belief in the divinity of Jesus is evident in its emphasis on him being created, in the same

way Adam was, from dust (Q 3.59). Subsequently, the sūra calls the People of the Scripture to

forsake associationism (shirk) (Q 3.64), while explicitly rebuking the Jews and the Christians

for appropriating Abraham and making false arguments concerning him (Q 3.65-68). The sūra

emphasizes that Abraham was neither a Jew nor a Christian but rather a monotheist who

submitted (muslim) to Allah (Q 3.67). Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān then states that the People of the

Scripture wish to deceive the Muslims (Q 3.69), and that they disbelieve in the verses of God

(Q 3.70), and conceal the truth (Q 3.71).

In light of this examination, it could be concluded that the label Āl-‘Imrān indicates the

family of Mary, its lineage and the sect of the Jewish followers of Jesus. Through the use of Āl-

‘Imrān as a substitute for Israel in Q 3.33, the sūra endeavors to establish the confessional

superiority of the Jewish believers in Jesus, above and instead of Judaism, represented through

Āl-’Ibrāhīm.328 This reading is clearly in consonance with the sūra’s depiction of Allah’s

promise to Jesus of “establishing those who have followed you [Jesus] above those who

disbelieved until the Day of Resurrection” (Q 3.55). Now that the term Āl-‘Imrān is elucidated,

it is possible to examine the other names with which Mary is affiliated: ‘Imrān and Aaron.

Tottoli’s Typological Reading of the Reference to Mary’s Identity

Tottoli argues that the ostensible “confusion” between Miriam the Prophetess and the

Virgin Mary does not reflect a mistake on the part of the narrators and collectors of these

of the Mosque: Christians and Muslims in the World of Islam (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008),
6-10.
328
Neuwirth notes that the introduction of Āl-Ibrāhīm and Āl-‘Imrān in Q 3.33 is a hapax legomenon in the Qur’ān.
Neuwirth argues that by presenting the Āl-Ibrāhīm, which indicates the Jewish people, and the Āl-‘Imrān, which
indicates the Christian Holy Family, in this unique form through the use of the “Āl,” Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān intends to
portray both lineages as being on a par with one another. See Neuwirth, “The House of Abraham,” 507-8. This
argument is insightful. However, the sūra’s emphasizes that “Abraham was neither a Jew nor a Christian but rather
a Muslim ḥanīf, and he was not [one] of the associators” (Q 3.67) immediately after Q 3.64, which calls the People
of the Scripture to reject associationism (shirk). This suggests that Āl-Ibrāhīm is not meant to indicate the Jews
but rather a certain lineage that is related to a certain strain of Abraham’s followers, in the same way that Āl-‘Imrān
does not seem to indicate Christianity.
109
qur’ānic accounts. Tottoli instead explains that the Qur’ān is deliberately using the “confusion

between these two characters and their families,” in order to parallel “a Christian tendency to

utilize earlier biblical figures as ‘types’ for later ones.”329 Thus, Tottoli understands that by

intentionally conflating both Marys in contexts that are expected to refer solely to the Virgin

Mary, the qur’ānic texts are applying a modus operandi that is analogous to Christian typology

by utilizing Miriam the Prophetess as a type of the Virgin Mary.

Evaluation of Tottoli’s Interpretation

Tottoli’s approach is interesting. Nevertheless, before his argument can be accepted, it

should be examined in light of the Christian definition of typological reading. This definition

demands an examination of the application of typology in the New Testament, and then the

articulation of the Christian criteria for typology by the early Church.

The Christian Criteria for Typology

The roots of Christian typology can be traced to the New Testament writers.330 Paul in

particular is the first to refer to the Hebrew Bible as “the Old Testament” or “the Old Covenant”

(ἡ παλαιὰ διαθήχή, 2 Cor 3.14) explaining that Israel’s various circumstances and incidents are

“types” (τυπιχῶς) that were written down to instruct the church, “on whom the ends of the ages

have come” (1 Cor 10:11).331 Besides his presentation of the Church as the typological

fulfillment of Israel, Paul’s other major typological theme centers around Christ and his

329
Roberto Tottoli, “‘Imrān,” EQ, II: 509. Tottoli’s discussion of the theme is very concise, as he presents it in this
very short article.
330
For a general discussion of typology in the New Testament, see Leonhard Goppelt, Typos: The Typological
Interpretation of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 61-205.
331
Ibid., 127. For a discussion of Paul’s typological presentation of the Church as the “spiritual Israel,” see ibid.,
136-151. Paul also uses other terms such as παραβολή (Heb 9.9; 11.19) and ἀλληγορούμενα (Gal 4.24). These are
also used in other New Testament epistles and works of the Apostolic Fathers in order to express the same meaning
as “type.” See ibid., 5 and n. 15.
110
ministry as the typological fulfillment of the figures and events of the Old Testament.332 This

typological reading of Scripture is resumed and developed in certain ways by the Apostolic

Fathers and many of the Church Fathers.333 However, the attempts to establish a theological

definition of an “accurate” typological reading and of a “true” type begin only in the fourth

century, with the endeavors of the Antiochene Fathers to respond to the allegorical practices of

the Alexandrian school, and particularly those of Origen. The Antiochene reaction to allegory

was initiated by Diodore of Tarsus (d. 390), and the articulation of the criteria for typology was

mostly established by his protégé, Theodore of Mopsuestia (350-428), and also by Theodore’s

contemporaries, John Chrysostom (ca. 344-407) and Theodoret of Cyrus (393-457).334 These

Fathers extracted from the New Testament, and particularly from the Pauline epistles, the

following criteria for the purpose of establishing a true type:335

1) Historicity: The type and its archetype (or its antitype), which constitute the two poles of a

relationship, must both be historical realities, figures, places or events that are related in the

scriptures.336

2) Prophecy: Types are prophetically inspired and thus indicate what would come to pass in

332
Paul’s most important typology in this regard is his presentation of Adam as the type of Christ, the anti-type,
in the Epistle to the Romans: “Yet death exercised dominion from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sins
were not like the transgression of Adam, who is a type (τúπος) of the one who was to come … For if the many
died through the one man’s trespass, much more surely have the grace of God and the free gift in the grace of the
one man, Jesus Christ, abounded for the many” (Rom 5.14-15). For a discussion of this typology and its
implications in Paul’s notion of redemption, see ibid., 129-36.
333
Besides the typological approach presented in the New Testament, scholars have suggested various Jewish,
Stoic, and Aristotelian influences on Christian typological readings. For a general presentation of scholarly views
on these influences, see Frederick McLeod, The Roles of Christ’s Humanity in Salvation: Insights from Theodore
of Mopsuestia (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 2005), 38-44.
334
Ibid., 34-37. For the interpretation of Paul’s use of the term ‘ἀλληγορούμενα’ (Gal 4.24) by these Church
Fathers see Robert Kepple, “An Analysis of Antiochene Exegesis of Galatians 4:24–26,” WTJ 39, no. 2 (1977):
239–49.
335
Frederick McLeod, Theodore of Mopsuestia (London: Routledge, 2009), 20-22; Frances Young, “Alexandrian
and Antiochene Exegesis,” in A History of Biblical Interpretation, vol. 1, ed. Alan Hauser and Duane Watson
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), 334-54; McLeod, The Roles of Christ’s Humanity in Salvation, 49-50; Frances
Young, Biblical Exegesis and the Formation of Christian Culture (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 2002), 178-
185.
336
The Church Fathers and particularly the Antiochenes, due to their hermeneutical principle of historia, definitely
perceived the typological relationship between Adam and Christ presented in Romans 5.12-21 as one between true
historical figures. See Young, “Alexandrian and Antiochene Exegesis,” 341-471.
111
 the future, when Christ establishes the new covenant.337

3) Biblical Approval: The relationship between the type and its antitype must be explicitly

acknowledged and verified in and by the scriptures, and primarily by Paul.338

4) Imagery: A type must not simply prefigure or signify the existence of its antitype but must

also image its reality with a correct likeness, albeit in an imperfect and inferior way. 339

Christian authors did not adhere to all these principles in each of their discussions of typological

themes. However, their application of typologies still fell within the broad boundaries of

typological reading as they subscribed to the general principles required by this hermeneutical

rubric.340

Qur’ānic Typology

Tottoli’s claim that the qur’ānic texts intentionally “conflate” both Marys in a manner

that parallels Christian typology should be examined in light of the above presented principles

of Christian typological reading. However, for such an examination to be possible, it is

necessary first to elucidate the way in which the Qur’ān perceives its relationship to the Jewish

and Christin scriptures. Thus, Christian typology is founded on the premise that the life and

ministry of Jesus and the community of believers founded by him are the fulfillment of Old

Testament prophecies concerning the coming of the Messiah and the establishment of his

337
One of the main examples of the prophetic element of the typological relationship is found in Paul’s presentation
of the Passover lamb as a prophetic symbol of the death of Christ (1 Cor 5.7).
338
For Theodore, this is the main element that differentiates between a typological and an allegorical interpretation.
According to him, allegorical readings derive from the speculations of the exegete and not from scripture. See
McLeod, The Roles of Christ’s Humanity in Salvation, 49.
339
Theodore distinguishes between a shadow, which is linked to the archetype but cannot portray it, and the real
type that constitutes a real, though imperfect, image of the archetype. See McLeod, The Roles of Christ’s Humanity
in Salvation, 50.
340
Theodore himself diverts from the third principle presented above in his commentary on 1 Cor 10.2-4, as he
introduces certain typologies that are not mentioned in the New Testament. See Theodore’s Commentary on the
First Epistle to the Corinthians in Pauluskommentare aus der Griechischen Kirche, ed. Karl Staab (Münster:
Aschendorff, 1984), 185-6. Here Theodore refers to Moses as a type of Christ, Moses’ staff as a type of the cross,
Pharaoh as a type of Satan and so on. Nevertheless, though these objects, persons, and events are not all identified
by Paul as “types,” Theodore’s typological interpretation is clearly grounded in Paul’s exegesis and adheres to the
three other principles of typological reading, which he and the Antiochene school articulate.
112
kingdom. This premise permitted the authors of the New Testament books to read the events

and figures of the Old Testament as types of Jesus or of events in his life and the life of the

Church, which they explicated and affirmed in their writings. Similarly, the Qur’ān also had to

claim a certain form of connection and continuity with the Jewish and Christin scriptures before

it could present any typological relationship with them.

The Qur’ān argues in various contexts that the Jews and the Christians have hid and

falsified certain divine revelations, and also produced fake literature, claiming it is a revelation

from God.341 Nevertheless, in other contexts the Qur’ān does commend the Torah (Tawrāh)

and the Gospel (Injīl) (Q 5.44, 46), referring to itself as equivalent to these earlier revelations

(Q 9.111; 16.43-44), and also as a confirmation of them.342 The Qur’ān, furthermore, reflects

awareness of and affirms the Christian perception of Jesus as the inaugurator of a new era and

the founder of a new community of believers which are a fulfillment of the Torah.343

The qur’ānic typology, like the Christian typology, also indicates that an old world has

ended and a new one was, or is being, born. Muḥammad’s role in this regard is presented as

equivalent to that of Jesus. In the same way that Jesus is presented in the New Testament as

standing at the watershed between the end of the Old Covenant and the beginning of the New

Covenant, so also Muḥammad stands in the Qur’ān at the center of the cosmic drama,

representing the birth of a new order and a new community.344 Therefore, in the same way that

the New Testament, the scripture of the new Christian community, contains a commentary on

the Old Testament, the scripture of the “old” people of God, so also the Qur’ān contains a

341
See Q 2.75-79; 3.69-71, 187; 4.46; 5.12-15, 41.
342
The Qur’ān is eager to emphasize this last point. See Q 2.97, 101; 3.3, 50, 81; 4.47; 5.48; 6.92; 10.37; 35.31;
37.37; 46.12, 30.
343
See Q 3.49-53; 5.46; 43-59-65.
344
See Todd Lawson, “Typological Figuration and the Meaning of ‘Spiritual’: The Qur’anic Story of Joseph,”
JAOS 132, no. 2 (2012): 221-2 and 224. See for example the similarity between the presentation of the role of
Jesus in Q 3.50 and that of the role of Muḥammad in Q 7.157. Jesus is introduced as inaugurating a new era as he
is depicted as stating that he confirms what came before him in the Torah and makes lawful to the Jews some of
what was forbidden to them (Q 3.50). Muḥammad is also depicted as a confirmation of what is written in the
Tawrāh and the Injīl, commending to them what is right and forbidding what is wrong, making lawful for them all
good things (Q 7.157).
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commentary on elements of the preceding traditions of the Jewish, Christian, and other religious

communities.

Qur’ānic typology centers around the presentation of the life of Muḥammad as an

antitype of the lives of preceding prophets. Sūrat Al-Shu‘arā’ represents a clear demonstration

of this qur’ānic typology. The sūra begins with a direct speech which seems to be addressed to

Muḥammad, asking, “Are you tormenting yourself [with grief] because they do not become

believers?” (Q 26.3), as it rebukes the disbelief of those non-believers (Q 26.4-8). The sūra then

introduces the accounts of the biblical figures of Moses, Abraham, Noah, and Lot, and the extra-

biblical figures of Hūd, Sāliḥ, and Shu‘ayb, who were sent to nations asking them to repent and

were rejected.345 Each of these accounts ends with the mention of the calamity that befell, or

will befall, the non-believers who are disobedient to the call of the messenger sent to them,

while mentioning in most cases that the messenger and his followers were rescued from this

judgment. Each example also ends with the statement, “[surely] there is a sign in that [event],

but most of them were not believers.”346 After relating all these accounts, the sūra addresses

Muḥammad again, explaining that the “faithful Spirit” brought down the revelation from God

upon his heart so that he may be one of the “warners” (Q 26.192-194). The sūra then announces

the command to Muḥammad to warn his closest kinsmen, asking him to be kind to those who

follow him from among the believers, and explaining that he is free of guilt if his kinsmen

disobey him (Q 26.214-216).

345
The stories are mentioned in the following order: Moses (Q 26.10-67); Abraham (Q 26.69-103); Noah (Q
26.105-121); Hūd to ‘Ād (Q 26.123-139); Saliḥ to Thamūd (Q 26.141-158); Loṭ (Q 26.160-174); Shu‘ayb (Q
26.176-190). Only Moses and Shu‘ayb are mentioned as sent to their people. Moses is thus portrayed as being
sent, along with his brother Aaron, with a message of warning to Pharaoh and his people (Q 26.10-11). Shu‘ayb
is portrayed as being sent to the “companions of the wood” but the sūra does not clarify whether these were his
people (Q 26.176-177). All the other characters are presented as sent to their own people (Q 26.70, 105, 123-124,
141-142, 160-161). Shu‘ayb is usually affiliated with the biblical figure of Jethro. The Qur’ān, however, does not
provide much evidence that supports the view that they are the same person. See Roberto Tottoli, “Shu‘ayb,” EQ,
IV: 605-6. For the myth of the prophetic ministry of Saliḥ and the downfall of Thamūd, and the correspondence
between them and events in the life of Muḥammad, see Jaroslav Stetkevych, Muḥammad and the Golden
Bough: Reconstructing Arabian Myth (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1996), 13-35, and
106-112.
346
See Q 26.65-67, 91-103, 119-121, 139, 158, 170-174, 189-190.
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 The typology conveyed in Sūrat Al-Shu‘arā’ is simple and clear. Muḥammad is

presented as an anti-type of preceding messengers and prophets. The revelation sent down upon

Muḥammad, this sūra explicates, is found in the scriptures of the ancients (Q 26.196).

Muḥammad’s attempts to warn the non-believers and his frustration as a result of their rejection

of his message is similar to that formerly experienced by these preceding messengers.347 As

was the case with them, so also Muḥammad is promised that he and his followers will be

rewarded for their belief, while his antagonists will be punished. Like the earlier prophets,

Muḥammad and his community are promised that those who believe in Allah and do good

deeds, though they are oppressed for a season, will be victorious, while the non-believers are

promised bitter punishment (Q 26.227).348

These general parallels that Sūrat Al-Shu‘arā’ provokes provide an insight into the more

definite analogs found in the references to these messengers and Muḥammad throughout the

Qur’ān. The Qur’ān, however, seems to draw this typological correspondence by portraying

these figures and their experiences in a way that parallels its depiction of Muḥammad and his

trials. Thus, in the same way Muḥammad is slandered numerous times by his enemies as being

mad (majnūn),349 so do Noah’s antagonists refer to him as a madman.350 Furthermore,

Muḥammad is accused of being under a spell (masḥūr) and bringing a revelation of sorcery

(siḥr),351 as are Sāliḥ and Shu‘ayb accused of being under a spell (mina al-musaḥḥarīn).352 Also

in Sūrat Yūnus Muḥammad is referred to by the non-believers as a sorcerer (Q 10.2), and Moses

347
The comparison between the rejection of Muḥammad and the rejection of earlier messengers is prominent in
the Qur’ān. See for example Q 2.87-91; 3.184; 6.48-54.
348
Sūrat Al-Shu‘arā’, while presenting Muḥammad as the equivalent of these prophets and messengers, also
contrasts his role with that of the poets. The sūra emphasizes that while Muḥammad was presented as being sent
by demons (Q 26.210), the messages that are truly sent by demons are those of liars and the poets (Q 26.221-226).
Lawson argues that Sūrat Al-Shu‘arā’ presents the poets as not mere antagonists of the prophets but rather as their
“antitypes or reflections of the original type.” See Lawson, “Typological Figuration,” 233-4. Nevertheless, this
contrast between the poets and the prophets, is definitely not a Christian form of typology, where the antitype or
the archetype is a fulfillment of the type and not its contrast.
349
Q 15.6; 23.7; 25.8; 34.46; 37.36; 44.14; 68.2, 51.
350
Q 23.25; 54.9.
351
See Q 17.47; 25.8 and Q 10.2; 34.43; 37.15; 43:30; 46.7; 54.2; 61.6.
352
Q 26.153, 185.
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and Aaron are accused of using magic (Q 10.76-77).353 Sūrat Al-Qaṣaṣ makes this

correspondence explicit, contending that those who reject the message of Muḥammad say that

they would have believed in it if he had brought something similar to what Moses brought. This

sūra, however, responds to the latter claim by stating that the revelation of Moses was also

rejected by his antagonists, who charged him with sorcery; and that the speakers themselves

believe the revelations of Moses and Muḥammad both to be works of magic (Q 28.48).

Muḥammad’s antagonists do not accept his prophetic status, asking him instead for

signs and miracles.354 The Qur’ān answers these challenges by arguing that Muḥammad is

merely human.355 However, Muḥammad’s mere humanity is the main claim used by his

antagonists against his prophethood. They argue that if he had been a real prophet, God would

have sent an angel with him as a warner.356 Similarly, Noah is also rejected for being a mere

human, as his antagonists argue that if God had wanted to send a messenger, he would have

sent an angel.357 Shu‘ayb’s audience also rejects him while arguing that he is merely human

like them, asking him for a sign to prove his status.358

Qur’ānic typology is thus constructed through the recasting of the accounts of

messengers and prophets preceding Muḥammad in light of the Qur’ān’s portrayal of

Muḥammad’s life and experiences. In this sense, qur’ānic typology contains only one element

that is congruent with Christian typology: the historicity of the typological relation. Thus, the

historicity of the earlier messengers who stand as types of the historical Muḥammad is

presupposed by the qur’ānic text. Nevertheless, the Qur’ān does not present the relationship

between Muḥammad and these preceding messengers as a typological relationship between an

antitype and its types, at least not in the way that Paul explains (for example) in the First Epistle

353
Cf. Q 27.13; 28.36.
354
See Q 3.183; 13.7; 15.7; 17.90-93.
355
See for example Q 17.93.
356
See Q 17.94; 21.3; 25.7.
357
Q 23.24.
358
Q 26.186-187.
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to the Corinthians that “our paschal lamb, Christ, has been sacrificed” (1 Cor 5.7). Paul presents

here all the elements of Christian typology, starting with the assumption that both events, the

sacrifice of the paschal lamb and the death of Jesus, are historical. Paul further approves of the

typological connection between both events as he presents the earlier as an inferior image that

prefigures the later and much more epochal event. This typology establishes the type and its

antitype, or more accurately the type and its archetype, as the two poles of a typological

relationship in which the type as a lesser entity finds its fulfillment in the archetype.

The Qur’ān might reflect certain notions of “imagery” and “approval” in a very vague

way. The Qur’ān thus refers to Muḥammad as the “seal of the prophets” in Q 33.40. The notion

of “seal” as presented in this context might be understood as conveying the typological criterion

of “imagery,” in the sense that the earlier prophets could be perceived as lesser prophets whose

prophetic endeavors reach their fulfillment in Muḥammad’s role, which embodies the

maturation of all the preceding prophetic activity. This notion of “seal” also definitely suggests

the typological criterion of “approval,” which, though implicit, is very prominent in the

Qur’ān’s comparison between Muḥammad and the earlier messengers. However, besides

making this statement in Q 33.40, the Qur’ān does not manifest this notion of “seal” textually.

Thus, Muḥammad is predominantly presented as equivalent to the former prophets, suffering

their same fortune. Nevertheless, his role is never presented in any typological manner as a

fulfillment of theirs. Moreover, qur’ānic typology does not entail a typological notion of

prophecy. Events in the lives of preceding messengers do not predict the events of

Muḥammad’s life in the way the offering of the paschal lamb or the binding of Isaac prophesy,

in the mind of the early Christians, the much more significant sacrificial death of Jesus.

Qur’ānic typology cannot, therefore, be understood as equivalent to Christian typology

as it does not reflect or adhere to those same criteria of “imagery,” “approval,” and “prophecy.”

Furthermore, this typology is restricted to the figures of Muḥammad, who stands at one pole,

and all the preceding prophets and messengers who are found on the other pole. Qur’ānic
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typology is thus never extended to include events or other figures outside of this circle of

prophets, such as the characters of the Virgin Mary or Miriam the prophetess.

The Qur’ānic References to Mary’s Identity in Light of Christian Typology

The Qur’ān’s references to Mary’s identity and their larger context do not adhere to any

of the principles of Christian, or even qur’ānic, typology. The main difference between these

references and Christian typology, as understood by the early Church, is that Christian sources,

whether biblical or Patristic, do not conflate or confuse the type and its antitype or archetype

by referring to them as one figure. Rather, Christian sources emphasize the distinction and

separation between the type and its antitype as different events or figures that belong to different

periods and contexts. The Qur’ān, however, never refers explicitly to Miriam the Prophetess in

any context, though it refers numerous times to her brothers Moses and Aaron.359 The Qur’ān’s

lack of reference to Miriam suggests that she does not occupy any significance in its world. It

is difficult therefore to imagine that the Qur’ān would suddenly introduce Miriam in this context

as a type of the Virgin Mary.

Moreover, it could be argued that the author of these qur’ānic accounts did not feel

obligated to explicitly mention Miriam the Prophetess because he perceived the qur’ānic text

as a continuation of the previous revelations of the Jews and Christians. Nevertheless, it is clear

that the Qur’ān does not provide any explicit acknowledgement of this connection.

Furthermore, even if it could be assumed, for the sake of argument, that the Qur’ān is referring

typologically in Q 19.28 and Q 66.12 not only to the Virgin Mary, but also to Miriam, these

texts abstain from presenting both Marys as separate historical personalities.

More importantly, Q 19.28 and Q 66.12 refer particularly to the Virgin Mary indicating

359
The Qur’ān refers implicitly to Miriam in Q 28.11-12. The account containing these verses (Q 28.3-13)
corresponds with the biblical account found in the book of Exodus 1.15-2.9. Though both accounts do not mention
Miriam explicitly they clearly indicate her as she was the only sister of Moses according to biblical tradition.
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her chastity, or the lack of. In Q 19.28 Mary is accused of being unchaste after she returns to

her people with her newly born son. Q 66.12 mentions that God breathed from his spirit into

Mary because she “safeguarded her private parts (farj).” Neither these references, nor any other

qur’ānic or biblical texts, offer any indication that chastity or virginity is a central motif in the

life of Miriam the Prophetess. This motif cannot therefore function as a point of typological

connection between Miriam and the Virgin Mary.

The Qur’ān, therefore, does not provide any “approval” of a typological, or even basic,

relationship between the virgin Mary and Miriam the Prophetess. The Qur’ān also does not link

both Marys to each other, either in a prophetic or in a dynamic way, as the type and its archetype

relate to one another in the Christian tradition. It is, therefore, evident in light of this

examination that the qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity do not present a typology.

Mourad’s Allegorical Reading of the References to Mary

Suleiman Mourad approaches the qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity from a different

perspective. He argues that the terms “daughter” and “sister” used in reference to Mary as

“daughter of ‘Imrān” (Q 66.12) and “sister of Aaron” (Q 19.28) should not be understood in

this context as literal references that are meant to indicate a direct child or a sibling. Rather,

according to Mourad, these qur’ānic references operate in the same way that certain phrases in

the canonical gospels operate when they use, for example, the term “son” not in reference to

immediate parentage, but rather to a genealogical line – such as the metaphorical reference to

Jesus as “the Son of David, the Son of Abraham” (Matt 1.1). The Qur’ān, Mourad explicates,

also uses the Arabic equivalent, ibn and its derivatives, not only to indicate the meaning of

“immediate child” but also more general relationships, as when it uses “sons of Israel” (Q 2.246,

3.49, 5.72) to refer to the Israelites and not to the immediate descendants of Jacob, or when it

uses the phrase “sons of Adam” (Q 7.35, 17.70, 36.60) in reference to human beings in

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general.360

Likewise, regarding the reference to Mary as “sister of Aaron” (Q 19.28), Mourad points

out that the words “brother” or “sister” (akh/ukht) and their derivatives in the Qur’ān do not

always imply the literal meaning of sibling relationships. Mourad counts twenty-eight cases of

“brother” and “sister” in the Qur’ān, recognizing three different categories in which akh and its

derivatives could be used metaphorically. First, akh could denote a tribal relationship, as in Q

7.73a: “And to Thamūd [We sent] their brother (akhāhum) Ṣāliḥ.” Second, it could denote a

religious bond, as in Q 3.103b: “And remember Allah’s grace upon you; as you were enemies

and He brought companionship between your hearts, so you became, by His grace, brothers

(’ikhwān).” Third, akh could denote an ancestor/predecessor relationship, as in Q 7.38, which

will be discussed shortly below.361

To further establish his argument, Mourad adds that the expression “sister of Aaron”

occurs in the Qur’ān in the context of the questioning of Mary in the Temple by the priests. He

argues that while interrogating Mary, the Temple priests refer allegorically to her descent from

the priestly line. He suggests that their aim is to magnify her moral transgression “by appealing

to her ancestor Aaron, whose descendants are the only Israelites qualified to serve in the

Temple, where Mary herself was raised.”362

Mourad argues that the Āl-‘Imrān mentioned in Q 3.33 indicates the biblical ‘Amram,

the father of Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. However, in light of his observations regarding the

use of ibn and akh in the Qur’ān, he concludes that “the references to both Amram and Aaron

must, then, be taken allegorically.”363 This means that the reference to Mary as “daughter of

‘Imrān” should be understood to mean that she is a descendant of ‘Imrān, the father of Moses;

and the phrase “sister of Aaron” should be understood as an appeal “to her [Mary’s] ancestor

360
Mourad, “Mary in the Qur’ān,”165.
361
Ibid.
362
Ibid.
363
Ibid., 166.
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Aaron.”364 Consequently, Mourad reasons that the reference to Mary’s mother as the “wife of

‘Imrān” (Q 3.35-36) “is a reference to biblical Amram in the sense that Mary’s mother was

married to a descendant of his [‘Imrān/‘Amram].”365

Evaluation of Mourad’s Interpretation

Mourad’s analysis of these qur’ānic references is initially persuasive. However, a

thorough examination of his textual and philological analysis reveals that his arguments and

conclusions are misguided. This is so because the metaphorical or allegorical meanings of the

word “brother” (akh) that he deduces from the Qur’ān’s use of the term cannot be applied to

the relationship between the Virgin Mary and Aaron. The Virgin Mary’s relationship to Aaron

is definitely not a tribal relationship, as is the one indicated in Q 7.73. In both the Christian

tradition and the Islamic tradition, Mary is believed to be a descendant of David and therefore

from the tribe of Judah; while Aaron, the first high priest of the Israelites, was, according to the

Hebrew Bible, from the line of Levi, his great grandfather (Exod 6:16-20).366

364
Ibid., 165.
365
Ibid., 166.
366
The New Testament never mentions the tribe of the Virgin Mary. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke are the
only canonical Gospels to present a genealogy of Jesus (Matt 1.1-71; Luke 3.23-38). Both genealogies introduce
Jesus’ lineage through Joseph, Mary’s husband, who is portrayed as descending from Abraham through Judah and
King David. See Marshall Johnson, “Genealogy, Christ,” in NIDB, vol. 2, 536-537. However, though there is no
reference to Mary herself in these genealogies, several scholars have argued that the Lucan genealogy traces Jesus’
lineage through Mary and not Joseph. That Mary was a descendant of David might be inferred from the account
of the Annunciation, in which the angel proclaims to Mary: “and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his
ancestor David” (Luke 1.32b). It could be further suggested that Mary is associated with the line of Levi because
the Lukan account mentions that Mary was a relative or a kinswoman of Elizabeth (Luke 1.36), who “was a
descendant of Aaron” (Luke 1.5). For these three views, see Frederick Bruce, “Genealogy of Jesus Christ,” NBD,
402. In ecclesiastical tradition Mary was always perceived as a descendant of David and therefore belonging also
to the tribe of Judah. See for example Tertullian, De Carne Christi, 21.5, PL 2.833-34; Ephrem the Syrian, HNat,
9.4, CSCO 187.55; Jerome, Tractatus de Psalmo, 96.1, CCL 78.440; Leo the Great, Sermo 24.1, PL 54.204;
Andrew of Crete, Canon on the Nativity, PG 97, 1316 C–1320 A. The ecclesiastical tradition in the Near East and
particularly in the Christian communities that came under Islamic rule is no exception. Thus, John of Damascus
explains that though Mary’s lineage is not mentioned in the Gospels, “there was a law that one tribe should not
marry into another. And Joseph who was descended from the tribe of David … would not have espoused the
blessed Virgin illegally, but only if she were descended from the same tribe.” See John of Damascus, An Exact
Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, in John of Damascus, Writings, 362. Concerning Mary’s lineage from David in
the Islamic tradition, see Mourad, “Mary in the Qur’ān,” 164-5. Jacob of Edessa, in one of the epistles that he sent
to John the Stylite from Litarba, explains that Christians and Muslims alike believe that the Virgin Mary is of the
house of David. See Jacob of Edessa, “Letter to John the Stylite,” no. 6, ed. and trans. François Nau, “Lettre de
Jacques d’Edesse sur la genealogie de la sainte Vierge,” ROC 6 (1901), ed. 518-619, trans. 523-524.
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 Furthermore, even if the qur’ānic author is not aware of the tribal origins of Aaron and

Mary, the use of the derivative of “brother” in Q 7.73 cannot explain the reference to Mary as

“sister of Aaron” in Q 19.28. Thus, Q 7.73a reads, “And to Thamūd [We sent] their brother

(akhāhum) Ṣāliḥ.” Ṣāliḥ is not referred to here as the brother of Thamūd, the forefather of the

tribe, but rather as the brother of the descendants of Thamūd. They are Ṣāliḥ’s contemporaries

and are also called Thamūd since they carry his name. Thus, the bond of brotherhood according

to Q 7.73 exists between people that inhabit the same phase of time horizontally and does not

apply to any vertical line of time.

This synchronic notion of brotherhood problematizes Mourad’s example. First, in Q

19.28, Mary is presented as the sister of Aaron and not the sister of Aaron’s descendants, who

are her contemporaries (as Ṣāliḥ is a contemporary of Thamūd). Second, Q 7.73-7.79 indicates

that Thamūd was Ṣāliḥ’s own tribe (Q 7.73, 75, 79), which explains the reference to him as a

brother of Thamūd. However, in Mary’s case, Aaron is never referred to as the head of a tribe,

but rather as a member of the tribe of Levi. Therefore, this tribal notion of brotherhood does

not apply to Mary’s definition as “sister of Aaron.”

The synchronic notion of brotherhood is relevant to another of Mourad’s examples.

Mourad argues that Q 3.103 uses the term akh allegorically in reference to Allah’s forging of

companionship between two parties that were enemies, thus turning them into brothers.

However, also in this context Mourad ignores the fact that the brotherhood indicated in this

verse could be initiated only between contemporary groups. Thus, the term “brothers” (’ikhwah

or’ikhwān) in this context cannot be applied to any relationship between Aaron and Mary due

to the historical gap between them.

Therefore, the only remaining qur’ānic reference provided by Mourad in support of his

allegorical interpretation of the phrase “sister of Aaron” is that of Q 7.38, which refers to nations

as “sisters.” Mourad argues that in this case the term sister (ukht) implies a relationship with an

ancestor or a predecessor. However, an examination of Q 7.38 shows that ukht cannot have
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such a meaning in this context. Q 7.38 appears in Sūrat al-A‘rāf :

He [Allah] said: “Enter among nations who passed away before you, [nations]

of the Jinn and the humans, into the fire. Whenever a nation enters, it curses its

sister [nation] till, when they have all followed each other into it, the last of them

shall say to the first of them: ‘Our Lord, these misled us, so bring [upon] them

double torment of the fire.’ He [Allah] said: For each [one, there is] double

[torment], but you know not.

The preceding verses indicate that the eternal damnation described in Q 7.38 will be the

penalty of anyone who “forges a lie about Allah or considered his verses [to be] a lie” (Q 7.37).

In the context of this judgment, the term sister (ukht) obviously implies a fellow nation.

However, since the text refers to “nations who passed away” and were judged before other

nations, the term sister (ukht) might therefore be understood as associated in this context also

with the meanings of “prior” or “preceding,” though the text does not indicate any such notion.

Nevertheless, even if such an interpretation is possible, the term “sister” in this context does

not at all connote “ancestor” or “predecessor.” Therefore, the use of ukht in Q 7.38 does not

support Mourad’s reading of the phrase “sister of Aaron” as indicating Mary’s relationship with

Aaron as her ancestor.

Furthermore, the qur’ānic text does not support Mourad’s claim that the reference to

Mary as “sister of Aaron” occurs in a context in which Mary is being questioned in the Temple

by the Temple’s priests. Sūrat Maryam relates that Mary “withdrew from her people to an

Eastern place” (Q 19.16), where she received the annunciation (Q 19.16-21). After this incident

Mary is described as conceiving Jesus and then withdrawing with him again “to a remote place”

(Q 19.22). The place is not defined, but the broader context seems to indicate a wilderness,

since Mary is found desperate without food or water. She is then miraculously nourished as

God provides her with a stream of water, and she eats the dates of a palm tree (Q 19.23-26).

Immediately after this account, Sūrat Maryam relates:

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 And then she [Mary] came with him to her people (qawmahā) carrying him.

They said: “O Mary! You came [up] with something perplexing. O sister of

Aaron! Your father was not a man of evil, nor was your mother a harlot (Q 19.27-

28).”

These verses and their wider context do not contain even a single indication that Mary came

from, or entered into, the Temple. Furthermore, they do not imply in any way that Mary was

interrogated by the Temple priests. Rather, Mourad appears to generate this claim in order to

promote his allegorical reading of the text.

It is true that Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of the accusations that Mary faces from her

people after she returns to them with the newborn Jesus (Q 19.27-29) suggests a recasting of

the Prot. Jas.’s depiction of the interrogation of Mary by the Temple priests after they become

aware of her pregnancy (PJ 15.3, 16). Considering this subtext, it is very possible that Q 19.28

is echoing the scene in the Prot. Jas. Sūrat Maryam itself, however, does not contain any

indication that could lead to the conclusion that in Q 19.27-29 Mary is being interrogated by

the Temple priests. This claim might have been plausible if the reference “sister of Aaron” had

been employed in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, where the depiction of Mary as being handed over to the

attention of Zechariah, her guardian, and being raised in the miḥrāb (Q 3.37), might indicate

that she is questioned by the Temple priests.

Concerning Mary’s relationship to ‘Imrān, it is clear that the phrase “daughter of

‘Imrān” in Sūrat al-Taḥrim (Q 66.12) implies a literal, and not a metaphorical, meaning. Thus,

Q 66.10-12 mentions four women: the wives of Noah and Lot as examples of unbelievers

(mathalan li-lladhīna kafarū), and the wife of Pharaoh and Mary “the daughter of ‘Imrān” as

examples of believers (mathalan li- lladhīna āmanū). The references to the three other women

besides Mary are clearly literal as they define these women by referring to their actual husbands.

This implies that the context is literal and that the reference to Mary should also be understood

literally as it is meant to define her also by referring to her actual father.

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 Lastly, Mourad presents an argument that the reference to Mary’s mother as “wife of

‘Imrān” (’imra’ātu ‘Imrān) (Q 3.35) should not be understood literally. He does so without

providing any background investigation. Instead, in light of his conclusions concerning the

phrases “sister of Aaron” and “daughter of ‘Imrān,” Mourad is also forced to argue that the

person to whom Mary’s mother was married (Q 3.35) is not ‘Imrān himself but a descendant of

the biblical ‘Amram.367 However, this reading cannot be substantiated. Unlike the Hebrew

Bible and the New Testament, which use the terms “wife” and “bride” metaphorically or

allegorically in certain cases,368 and unlike the terms “son” and “daughter,” the word ’imra’ah

(wife), is never used metaphorically or allegorically in the Qur’ān. Rather, the Qur’ān always

uses the word ’imra’ah to literally mean an actual wife.369 This reading is further confirmed by

the mufassirūn who, though they offer literal and metaphorical interpretations of the term “sister

of Aaron,” interpret the reference “wife of ‘Imrān” only literally as indicating the wife of a

specific ‘Imrān who was the father of Mary.370 Some mufassirūn, such as al-Zamakhsharī,

further emphasize that the ‘Imrān mentioned in Q 3.35 is a different person from the biblical

367
Mourad, “Mary in the Qur’ān,” 166.
368
The Hebrew Bible portrays the covenant between Yahweh and the nation of Israel in terms of marriage between
a husband and his bride in the prophetic literature. The book of Hosea is the first to introduce this imagery (Hos 2,
esp. 2.2, 16). It is reintroduced subsequently in the books of Isaiah (Isa 54.5; 61.10; 62.5), Jeremiah (Jer 2.2, 20-
25; 3.1-3), and Ezekiel (Ezek 16.8). Other indications of this marriage metaphor are found in Amos (Amos 3.2;
5.2). For a discussion of the theme see Victor Hamilton, “Marriage (OT and ANE),” ABD, IV: 565-7. This biblical
imagery of marriage is used in certain books of the New Testament to symbolize the covenantal union between
Jesus and his followers or the Church. The relationship between the husband and his wife as analogical to that of
Christ and the Church is expressed in the most explicit way in the Epistle to the Ephesians (Eph 5.22-33). It is also
referred to in the Second Epistle to the Corinthians (2 Cor 11.2) and the Epistle to the Romans (Rom 7.1-6). See
Mitchell Reddish, “Bride of Christ,” ABD, I:782. For a detailed discussion of this imagery in the Epistle to the
Ephesians see Andrew Lincoln, Ephesians, WBC, vol. 42 (Dallas: Word Books, 1990), 350-394. The parable of
the “Wedding Banquet” in Matthew’s Gospel (Matt 22.1-14) also depicts the Kingdom of Heaven as a wedding
while referring to Jesus symbolically as the bridegroom (Matt 22.2). Jesus is further mentioned as referring to
himself as a bridegroom in the synoptic Gospels (Matt 9.14-15; Mark 2.18-20; Luke 5.33-35). The Johannine
literature uses the same imagery (John 2.9-10; 3.29; Rev 19.7-9). See Raymond Collins, “Marriage (NT),” ABD,
IV: 570. For a detailed discussion of this theme in the New Testament see Joachim Jeremias, “νύμφη, νυμφίος,”
TDNT, IV:1099-1106.
369
The terms ’Imrā’ah and Zawjah, used for “woman” in the Qur’ān, and the term sāḥibah, used for “consort,”
and all their derivatives are always used in the literal sense in the Qur’ān and they never indicate any allegorical
or metaphorical meanings. See Q 2.35; 2.102; 2.222, 230, 235, 236; 3.40; 4.1, 4, 20, 24, 128; 5.5; 7.19, 38, 189;
11.71, 81; 12.21, 30, 51, 60; 19.5, 8; 20.117; 21.90; 27.23, 57; 28.9; 29.32, 33; 33.4, 37, 50; 39.6; 51.29; 61.1;
66.10, 11; 70.12; 72.3; 80.36; 111.4.
370
Qummī, 1:109; Muqātil, 1:271; Ṭabarī, 5:330-31; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161; Rāzī, 8:26-7, all on Q 3.35.
125
‘Imrān, the father of Moses, Aaron and Miriam.371

In light of this examination, one could conclude that Mourad’s interpretation of the

qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity is built on a series of wrong interpretations that are forced

on the text and cannot be established. A more interesting reading of these references is offered

by Guillaume Dye, who presents an alternative typological interpretation that is grounded in

qur’ānic intertextuality. The following sections will examine and evaluate his interpretation.

Dye’s Interpretations of the References to Mary’s Identity

Guillaume Dye offers a different explanation of the qur’ānic references to Mary’s

identity. He discusses these references within the larger context of the correspondence between

Q 19:1-63 and preceding Christian sources.372 Dye explains:

Q 19:1-63 is a text which can be described as almost Christian, or even as

Christian: in fact, it is unclear how it could be possible to be closer to Christianity

… All the details of the text have their origins in written, liturgical or popular

Christian traditions … and can be acknowledged by Christians.373

Dye particularly points out the correspondence between the stanzas, refrain, and dialogues

found in the text of Q 19.1-63, and the soghīthā, a sub-category of the Syriac Christian hymns

known as madrāshā. Dye thus speaks of Q 19.1-63 as a “Qur’ānic soghitha” that adapts the

Syriac model to the Qur’ān.374

Dye begins his examination of Mary’s genealogy in the Qur’ān by discarding preceding

371
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161, on Q 3.35.
372
See Dye, “The Qur’ān and its Hypertextuality.” Dye discusses the same theme also in the following paper:
Guillaume Dye, “Lieux saints communs, partagés ou confisqués: Aux sources de quelques péricopes coraniques
(Q 19: 16-33),” in Partage du sacré: transferts, dévotions mixtes, rivalités interconfessionnelles, ed. Isabelle
Dépret and Guilllaume Dye (Bruxelles: E.M.E. & InterCommunications, 2012), 55-121.
373
Dye, “The Qur’ān and its Hypertextuality,” 4.
374
Ibid., 4-5. For the structure of the soghīthā, see Sebastian Brock, “Syriac Dispute Poems: The Various Types,”
in Dispute Poems and Dialogues in the Ancient and Mediaeval Near East: Forms and Types of Literary Debates
in Semitic and Related Literatures, ed. Gerrit Reinink and Herman Vanstiphout (Leuven: Uitgeverij Peeters, 1991),
110-13.
126
views. He argues against the claim that the qur’ānic reference to Mary’s genealogy suggests

Muḥammad’s ignorance of the biblical traditions, which ignorance led him to confuse

characters that are separated by more than a millennium. Dye also repudiates the view of the

Muslim exegetes who argue that the Aaron referred to in Q 19.28 is not the biblical Aaron but

rather a person from Mary’s community. Instead, Dye states that when the Qur’ān mentions

Aaron, it always refers to Aaron the brother of Moses. Dye further rejects Mourad’s

interpretation of the references to Mary’s identity, arguing that the phrase “wife of ‘Imrān” is

meant to indicate ‘Imrān the husband of Mary’s mother. He explains that Mourad erroneously

interprets the words “sister” (ukht), “daughter” (bint) and “wife” (imra’a) as having the same

meaning of “descendant.”375

Dye furthermore maintains that typology is the key to understanding these references to

Mary:

So, when the Qur’ān states that Mary is Aaron’s sister and ‘Imrān’s daughter, it

does not state that Mary, the mother of Jesus, is Aaron’s biological sister and

‘Imrān’s biological daughter, but it claims that she is prefigured, one way or

another, by the “family of ‘Imrān,” especially Aaron and Miryam (obviously,

the homonymy on Maryam plays a role, but it does not entail that the main

parallel is between Mary and Miryam). In other words, it is not simply a

connection to Aaron’s lineage.376

Though Dye makes this argument for a typological reading of the references to Mary’s identity,

he contends that referring to Mary and Miriam in a typological relationship is uncommon in

ancient Christian literature. In his view, the parallels that have been suggested in this regard are

not helpful in understanding Sūrat Maryam. Dye rather maintains that what needs to be sought

is the Christian source of the phrase “sister of Aaron,” which he believes to be found in the cult

375
Dye, op. cit., 8-9.
376
Ibid., 9.
127
of Mary.377

Dye builds upon the research of Stephen Shoemaker who argues that Sūrat Maryam’s

nativity account originates from the Palestinian Kathisma church that is deeply associated with

the Prot. Jas. tradition.378 The Greek name of this church, Kathisma, meaning seat, refers to a

certain rock located on the road between Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Popular Christian lore

distinguished this rock as the “seat” upon which the pregnant Mary sat when, according to the

Prot. Jas., she reposed while on her way to Bethlehem accompanied with Joseph (PJ 17.3).379

The site of the Kathisma is firstly mentioned in the Armenian lectionary, dated to the first half

of the fifth century.380 Describing the fifth century liturgy of Jerusalem, this lectionary indicates

also the celebration of the feast of the Memory of the Theotokos on the 15th of August in the

Kathisma church, that is located in the middle of the road between Jerusalem and Bethlehem.381

As mentioned above, this was the first Marian feast and its was initially associated with the

nativity celebrating Mary’s role in the incarnation and birth of Christ. The Memory of the

Theotokos was subsequently celebrated also in other parts of the Byzantine empire but in

different dates. At a certain point in the beginning of the sixth century in Palestine this feast

was moved two days ahead to the 13th of August as the feast of the Theotokos’ Dormition and

Assumption took its place being celebrated on the 15th of August.382

Shomaker presents a very complex discussion of the relationship between the qur’ānic

nativity and the Kathisma church. The crux of his argument is that the Christian traditions upon

which Sūrat Maryam’s nativity draws intersect outside this text only in the traditions associated

377
Ibid., 9-10.
378
See Shoemaker, “Christmas in the Qur’ān,” 11–39.
379
Rina Avner, “The Initial Tradition of the Theotokos at the Kathisma: Earliest Celebrations and the Calendar,”
in The Cult of the Mother of God in Byzantium: Texts and Images, ed. Leslie Brubaker and Mary Cunningham
(Farnham, Eng.: Ashgate, 2011), 9-10.
380
See Athanase Renoux, trans. and ed., Le Codex Armenien Jerusalem 121, PO 36, no. 2 (1971), 181.
381
Athanase Renoux, “Un manuscrit du lectionnaire arménien de Jérusalem: (cod. Jérus. arm. 121),” Mus 74
(1961): 383.
382
Stephen Shoemaker, Ancient Traditions of the Virgin Mary’s Dormition and Assumption (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2002), 115-6. For a detailed discussion of this theme see ibid., 115-41.
128
with the Kathisma church which as historical evidence indicates was an important cite for the

early Muslims:

The Qur’ān’s rather surprising mixture of two otherwise independent early

Christian traditions can now be explained by the early Islamic encounter with

the Christian shrine of the Kathisma, the sole place outside of the Qur’ān where

these two traditions intersect. The Kathisma was originally an important Nativity

shrine in Christian Jerusalem, which owed its significance to the account of the

Nativity related by the second-century Protevanglium of James, a Christian

apocryphon whose traditions have strongly influenced the Qur’ān. Once the

basilica of the Nativity in the city of Bethlehem had emerged as the dominant

Nativity shrine, with the authoritative support of the canonical gospels, new

significance had to be found for the church of the Kathisma that would supplant

its dissonant, and yet ancient, Nativity traditions. It would seem that this was the

reason behind the later attempt to identify the Kathisma with the tradition of

Mary and the palm tree from the legend of the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt.

The Kathisma’s Nativity traditions did not evaporate, however, and they

continued to attach themselves to this shrine even after this effort to redefine its

significance. Thus we have in the Kathisma church a likely source for the

Qur’ānic tradition of Jesus’ Nativity: not only is it the only place in the Christian

tradition where the two legends that were the Qur’ān sources meet, but the

importance of Jerusalem in earliest Islamic history provides a likely context for

their adoption by the Muslim invaders. Nevertheless, we can do much better than

this. We know that this Christian shrine was converted into a mosque rather soon

after the Arabs took control of Jerusalem, sometime before the early eighth

century, indicating that the Kathisma was important to the early Muslims.

Moreover, the impact of the Kathisma church on the formation of Islamic culture
129
 is dramatically seen in the Kathisma’s connection with the Dome of the Rock;

not only does the Kathisma appear to have served as the Dome of the Rock’s

architectural model, but the unusual mosaics found in both shrines attest to the

strong links between them. In view of the Kathisma’s significance for early

Islam, we should not be surprised at all to find that its traditions have influenced

the Qur’ān.383

Following in Shoemaker’s footsteps, Dye identifies the Kathisma church as the locale

of contact particularly between Marian feasts and Sūrat Maryam. Dye emphasizes the

importance of the reform that the Palestinian Marian cult went through in the sixth century. One

aspect of this reform was that Mary’s role in the nativity began to incorporate elements from

the traditions of Mary’s Dormition. Due to this reform, the Marian liturgy in Jerusalem became

a stational liturgy that began with the celebration of the feast of the Memory of the Theotokos

in the Kathisma church on the 13th and continued till the 17th of August.384

Dye indicates three settings in which liturgical texts and practices associate Aaron with

these Marian feasts. He turns here to the Georgian lectionaries, explaining that they constitute

an important source for the reconstruction of the late antique religious practices in Jerusalem.

Dye points out that these lectionaries testify that the readings for the feast of the Memory of

Mary included, among others, a reading from the Epistle to the Hebrews 9.1-10, in which he

finds the first association of Mary with Aaron. This text from Hebrews contains the following

reference:

For a tent was constructed, the first one, in which were the lampstand, the table,

and the bread of the Presence; this is called the Holy Place. Behind the second

curtain was a tent called the Holy of Holies. In it stood the golden altar of incense

and the ark of the covenant overlaid on all sides with gold, in which there were

383
Shoemaker, “Christmas in the Qur’ān,” 38.
384
Dye, op. cit., 10-11.
130
 a golden urn holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, and the tablets of

the covenant (Heb 9.2-4).

Dye finds various connections between this passage and Sūrat Maryam. He firstly

explains that the Holy of Holies, located behind the curtain (Heb 9.3) is the same place in which

Mary dwells in the Prot. Jas. (PJ 13.2, 15.3) and to which also Q 19.17 and 3.37 allude.385 Dye

further notes that the golden altar of incense and particularly the Ark of the Covenant, which

are understood in Christian traditions as symbols of Mary, are linked in this paragraph with

Aaron through the reference to his staff (Heb 9.4).386 Dye maintains that though Q 19.2-63 does

not explicitly mention the Ark, Sūrat Maryam presumes the covenant as it depicts God’s mercy

to his servants. Dye argues that the centrality of the Temple is further displayed through the

reference to Zechariah as a priest in the Temple, as well as the portrayal of Mary’s upbringing

in the Temple (to which she returns after the nativity), and the debate between Abraham and

his father in a Temple regarding the question of true worship and the nature of the divine (Q

19.42-48).387

Dye finds the second association of Mary with Aaron in the fact that the commemoration

of Aaron was celebrated in the church of the Holy Sepulcher on the twelfth of August, a day

before the celebration of the Memory of Mary on the thirteenth of August and the beginning of

the Marian stational liturgy that extended from the thirteenth to the seventeenth of August. Dye

further notes that the text read during the commemoration of Aaron was Hebrews 5.1-10. This

passage emphasizes the superiority of Jesus’ role as a priest to that of Aaron, and it contains the

citation from Psalm 110.4, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.”

This verse was also read during the feast of the Memory of Mary on the fifteenth of August in

the earlier liturgical calendar.388

385
Ibid., 10-11.
386
Ibid., and n. 37.
387
Ibid., 11-12.
388
Ibid., 12.
131
 Dye finds the third and most significant association of Aaron with Mary in a tenth

century Georgian manuscript known as the Tbilisi A-144 codex. This manuscript contains the

translation, mostly from Greek, of homiletic and apocryphal texts used in the liturgical

celebrations in Jerusalem between the fifth and the eighth centuries. The manuscript mentions

that the liturgical reading for the thirteenth of August at the Kathisma church was “from the

words of the prophet Jeremiah,” contained in a text called the Lection of Jeremiah. This Lection,

which seems to date to the first decades of the seventh century, contains elements related to

both feasts of the Memory of Mary and Mary’s Dormition. The text of the Lection is mainly

taken from the apocryphal Life of Jeremiah, but it also contains other insertions particular to

the work itself. The Lection includes a citation from 2 Maccabees 2.4-8, which relates that

before the destruction of the First Temple, Jeremiah hid the Ark of the Covenant in a cave found

in the same mountain from which Moses saw the promised land.389 After pointing to this

citation, Dye cites the subsequent text from the Lection:

And the prophet [Jeremiah] said: “His coming will be a sign for you, and for

other children at the end of the world. And nobody will bring forth the hidden

Ark from the rock, except the priest Aaron, the brother of Mary. And nobody

will unveil the tables therein, nor be able to read them, except the lawgiver

Moses, the chosen of the Lord. And at the resurrection of the dead, the Ark will

be the first to rise from the rock and to be placed on Mount Sinai, so that the

word of the prophet David will be fulfilled, in which he said: ‘Arise, O Lord, to

your resting place, You and the Ark of Your holiness,’ which is the Holy Virgin

Mary who passes from this world to the presence of God, she to whom the

apostles proclaimed in Zion the praise of Myrrh saying: ‘Today the Virgin is

being guided from Bethlehem to Zion, and today from earth to heaven,’ and all

389
Ibid., 12-13.
132
 the saints are gathered together around her and wait for the Lord, putting to

flight the enemy who aims to destroy them.”390

Dye makes the following remarks on this passage. The Mary referred to in the phrase “the priest

Aaron, the brother of Mary” is the Virgin Mary and not Miriam the Prophetess, because the

Lection of Jeremiah speaks only of the Virgin Mary. Besides Aaron, this excerpt refers also to

“the lawgiver Moses”; and the rock, where the Ark existed before, is located in the place where

Moses lies (§13). God granted Jeremiah a place next to Moses and Aaron beside the Ark (§14),

which remains a symbol for Mary.

Dye contends that Mary is associated with the family of ‘Amram in two ways. Firstly,

she is affiliated with the Ark, which explicitly symbolizes Mary. Secondly, she is associated

with Aaron through the Dormition, the Marian feast in which this Lection is read, since Moses,

Aaron and Miriam all experienced a dormition in the sense that they fell asleep “through a kiss

of God.”391 Dye asserts, on the basis of these correspondences, that the Lection displays a clear

typology between Mary and the “family of ‘Amran.”

Dye therefore argues for profound connections between the nativity account of Sūrat

Maryam and the Marian feasts celebrated in the region of Jerusalem, the Kathisma church, and

particularly the liturgy of the feast of the Memory of Mary. In light of this context, the

resemblance between the qur’ānic phrase “Mary, sister of Aaron” and the Lection’s reference

to “Aaron, brother of Mary,” particularly considering the absence of any similar reference to

the latter phrase, leads Dye to conclude that it is highly plausible that the qur’ānic formula is

taken from this reference in the Lection of Jeremiah.392

The author of Q 3.33-63, Dye maintains, draws upon Q 19.1-63 and also on certain

passages from the Prot. Jas., since Q 3.33-63 introduces certain elements from the Prot. Jas.

390
Translated by Dye, ibid., 13. For the original text, see Michel Van Esbroeck, ed., “Nouveaux apocryphes de la
Dormition conservés en géorgien,” AnBoll 90 (1972): 367 and 369.
391
Dye, op. cit., 14.
392
Ibid.
133
that are absent from Q 19.1-63. Dye explains that the references to Mary as the daughter of “the

wife of ‘Imrān” (Q 3.35-36) and “daughter of ‘Imrān” (Q 66.12) appear as variations on “Mary,

sister of Aaron.” This is so especially since there are no other references to ‘Imrān in the Qur’ān

or in the sources that the Qur’ān draws upon in this context.393 Indicating the similarity between

the subtext of Q 19.1-63 and Q 3.33-63, as well as their typology and their use of Mariology

and Christology, Dye argues that both units belong to the same milieu.394

Further Correspondence between Sūrat Maryam and Marian Liturgy

Dye indicates other elements of general correspondence between Sūrat Maryam and the

liturgy of the Palestinian cult of Mary. As mentioned above, Dye points out that Hebrews 5.1-

10 was read during the commemoration of Aaron, which was celebrated in the church of the

Holy Sepulcher on the twelfth of August. Dye maintains that the prayers of Jesus referred to in

Hebrews 5.7 were not concerned with his preservation from death, but rather with his

resurrection from the domain of death. Dye therefore explains that Hebrews 5.7 is a highly

probable subtext for Q 19.33, where Jesus is portrayed as praying for peace upon himself

regarding his birth, death and his being sent alive, or resurrected.395

Dye finds other parallels between certain verses in Sūrat Maryam and Hebrews 11, a

text that was read in six different events of the Jerusalemite liturgical year. He explains that Q

19.49 refers to Abraham’s withdrawal and separation from his family after he asks them to

repent from the worship of idols and calls them to worship Allah (Q 19.41-48). After this God

grants Abraham his descendants Isaac and Jacob (Q 19.49). This reference, Dye argues,

corresponds with Hebrews 11.8-9:

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was

393
Ibid., 20.
394
Ibid.
395
Ibid., 22.
134
 to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going. By

faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign land,

living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same

promise (Heb 11.8-9).

Moreover, Dye contends that Q 19.51-57, which refers to the faithfulness and prayers of Moses,

Aaron, Ishmael, and Idrīs, seems to be an abridged record of the prophets or biblical figures

presented in Hebrews 11, who were saved from various trials through faith. This list includes

among others Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and Moses.396

Dye’s Conclusions Concerning the Provenance and Authorship of Q 19.1-63

Attempting to determine the context of Q 19.1-63, Dye offers further insights into the

text. He explains that besides the Marian liturgy of Jerusalem and the traditions of the Kathisma

church, including the tradition of the Prot. Jas., the author of Q 19.1-63 was acquainted with

the nativity account of the Gospel of Luke. The author, according to Dye, also had a knowledge

of Aramaic, a familiarity with Syriac literary genres such as the soghīthā, a basic knowledge of

Christology, and a homiletic talent that allowed him to merge excerpts from different texts and

traditions together. He also applied a Christian typological exegesis to the text.397

Dye’s conclusions concerning the author’s familiarity with these Palestinian Christian

traditions leads him to argue that “this author should be situated elsewhere than the Ḥiǧāz –

most probably, indeed, not too far from Jerusalem,” adding that he “was certainly a Christian

monk, who ‘converted’ to the new faith, or put his pen at the service of the newcomers –

certainly, therefore, after the conquests.”398

396
Ibid.
397
Ibid., 15-17.
398
Ibid., 17.
135
Evaluation of Dye’s Conclusions

The parallels that Dye points out between Sūrat Maryam and the Palestinian liturgies

are very illuminating and allow for the possibility that the author of Q 19.1-63 did draw upon

Christian liturgical traditions from the region of Jerusalem. However, not all of Dye’s

arguments are well established. The few claims that will be discussed here are the ones relevant

for our present topic.

Dye reads Sūrat Maryam in light of the liturgy of the Kathisma church because he

assumes Shoemaker’s conclusion that the traditions associated with the Kathisma church gave

rise to the nativity account of Sūrat Maryam.399 Shoemaker’s main argument, presented above,

is that Sūrat Maryam merges the nativity tradition found in the Prot. Jas. with the tradition of

the Palm Tree miracle, which two traditions are connected outside Sūrat Maryam only at the

Kathisma church. Shoemaker and Dye present valid arguments that suggest the possibility that

Sūrat Maryam draws upon certain traditions of the Kathisma. However, there is no basis for the

claim that the author of Sūrat Maryam, and particularly Q 19.1-63, must have encountered these

traditions only in the Kathisma setting. As Horn indicates, late antique Christianity produced

various versions of a “Book” or “Life” of Mary – works that contained a collection of accounts

related to Mary’s birth, life, death or passing away to the next world.400 One or several of these

versions could have merged traditions from the nativity of the Prot. Jas. along with traditions

of the “Palm Tree” miracle. Another option, which Shoemaker does not totally exclude, is that

the author of Q 19.1-63 encountered these apocryphal traditions separately, apart from the

Kathisma, and decided to integrate them into one account.401

Dye’s conclusion that the author of Q 19.1-63 was a monk is partly linked with his

struggle to explain how the author of this Arabic text could have mediated a Greek Jerusalemite

399
Ibid., 7.
400
Horn, “Syriac and Arabic Perspectives,” 267-91.
401
Shoemaker, “Christmas in the Qur’ān,” 35-6.
136
liturgy. Dye suggests that the author could have belonged to a multilingual circle that translated

this liturgy to those who were ignorant of Greek, indicating that Palestinian monasteries were

multilingual at that period.402 However, Dye seems to be unaware of the testimony of Egeria

the pilgrim, who relates in her fifth-century diary that, since a portion of the Holy Land

population knew only Greek while another knew only Syriac, the scriptural texts that were read

during the service in Greek were always translated by one of the priests to Syriac so that the

whole congregation could understand the reading.403 This notion challenges Dye’s conclusion

that the author of Q 19.1-63 was probably a monk, since even outside monastic circles the

Palestinian community was exposed to the liturgy in Syriac.

Since Palestinian Christianity used mainly Greek and Aramaic, Dye’s claims regarding

the author’s knowledge of Aramaic are meant to sustain his argument for the Palestinian

provenance of the author. Dye’s claim rests on two assertions. The first is that the qur’ānic text

presents a play on words in Q 19.12 and Q 19.13. Dye explains that Q 19.12 begins with the

phrase “Yā Yaḥya” to indicate John the Baptist, who is called Yoḥanān in the Hebrew language,

meaning “God is merciful” (Yō-ḥānān). Q 19.13 also begins with the phrase “wa-ḥanānan min

ladunnā,” which Dye renders “and mercy from Us [God].” As Dye points out, the word ḥanān

(‫ ) َحنَان‬is a hapax legomenon in the Qur’ān, and its uniqueness is further emphasized in this

context by the fact that Sūrat Maryam elsewhere uses the word raḥma in reference to mercy (Q

19:2, 21, 50, 53).404

Despite Dye’s observations, it is not clear that the Arabic phrases “Yā Yaḥya” and “wa-

ḥanānan” present a play on words. Moreover, even if such a correspondence was intended by

the author, the word ḥanānan and the name Yoḥanān are not exclusive to Aramaic, but are

found also in Hebrew and Syriac. A Syriac influence is more plausible in this regard, since the

402
Dye, op. cit., 16.
403
Egeria, Egeria: Diary of a Pilgrimage, trans. George Gingras (New York: Newman Press, 1970), 125-6. For
the dating for the work, see ibid., 12-15.
404
Dye, op. cit., 16. For ḥanān (‫ ) َحنَان‬as a hapax legomenon in the Qur’ān, see FV, 111-12.
137
Peshitta text of Luke’s Gospel mentions that when John the Baptist (Yoḥannan) was born,

Elizabeth’s “neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her (’sgy

’lh’ ḥnnh lwth) (Luke 1.58).405

Dye’s second assertion of the qur’ānic author’s knowledge of Aramaic is based on his

observations of the similarity between the format of Q 19.1-63 and that of the Syriac

soghīthā.406 However, also in this case the correspondence with the soghīthā indicates an

influence more Syriac than Aramaic, since the soghīthā was a form of Syriac religious poetry.

Furthermore, the similarity between the structure of the text of Q 19.1-63 and that of the

soghīthā does not necessarily indicate the qur’ānic author’s knowledge of Syriac, since the

materials could have been mediated to him through an Arabic translation of the source material,

or through a translator.

Dye argues for a profound connection between Q 19.1-63 and the liturgical readings

from the feast of the Memory of Mary, which included the texts of Hebrews 9:1-10 and the

Lection of Jeremiah. The first text contains references to the objects that were found inside the

Tabernacle, and later in the Temple, including the Ark of the Covenant (Heb 9.4). The second

text, which contains the reference “the priest Aaron, the brother of Mary,” also mentions “the

Ark of Your holiness, which is the Holy Virgin Mary.”

Not finding any reference to the Ark of the Covenant in Q 19, and wanting to establish

his argument, Dye states the following:

Q 19:2-63 does not refer explicitly to the Ark of Covenant, but the topics of the

covenant, the Temple (and at the same time priesthood) are omnipresent: the

insistence on God’s mercy and help towards His servants, throughout the surah,

presupposes the centrality of the covenant; Zachariah is priest in the Temple;

Mary spends her childhood in the Temple, and goes back, after Nativity, with

405
Ibid., 112.
406
Dye, op. cit., 16.
138
 Jesus to the Temple; the argument between Abraham and his father takes place

in a temple – and is related to idolatry, i.e. the question of the nature of the divine

presence and worship.407

The only precisely accurate statement in this paragraph is the connection between Zechariah

and the Temple, which is indicated in the reference to his coming out of the miḥrāb (Q 19.11),

which refers to the Temple or its sanctuary.408 Q 19.2-63 might also presume the notion of the

covenant. However, such a notion is not made explicit in this section of Sūrat Maryam, as is

the case in numerous other verses of the Qur’ān, including Q 19.78 and Q 19.87. Moreover,

Sūrat Maryam does draw upon the Prot. Jas. tradition, which refers to Zechariah as a high priest

and to Mary’s upbringing in the Temple. Nevertheless, the sūra itself does not refer to Zechariah

as a priest, nor does it mention Mary’s upbringing in the Temple, or her going back with Jesus

to the Temple.409 Furthermore, Sūrat Maryam does not provide any indication that the

discussion between Abraham and his father (Q 19.41-48) took place in a Temple.

Moreover, the feast of the Memory of Mary did originate in Palestine and was associated

with the Kathisma church. Nevertheless, this feast was also celebrated by various churches in

different parts of the Byzantine empire.410 This fact challenges Dye’s conclusion concerning

the provenance of the author of Q 19.1-63, as it suggests that he could have encountered the

liturgical traditions of this feast also outside the region of Jerusalem or Palestine in general.

Though many of Dye’s assertions are not, and probably cannot, be fully established, his

examination of Q 19.1-63 in light of Marian liturgical texts reveals various interesting parallels.

He does suggest a valid reading of the qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity and a possible

original source. In the following section I wish to offer an alternative reading of these

references.

407
Ibid., 11-12.
408
For a detailed discussion of the meaning of miḥrāb see pages 182-8 and 195-7.
409
The notion of Mary’s upbringing in the Temple is indicated only in Sūrat al-‘Imrān (Q 3.37). See discussion
in pages 182-8.
410
Shoemaker, Ancient Traditions of the Virgin, 115-6.
139
An Alternative Explanation of the Qur’ānic References to Mary’s Identity

The qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity should not be understood as having

originated from one specific source. These references should rather be read in light of the wider

context of the Qur’ān’s interaction with traditions that affiliate the Virgin Mary with the

children of ‘Amram: Moses, Aaron and Miriam. This affiliation was not uncommon in late

antique Christian writings.

Mary as “Sister of Aaron”

The reference to Mary as “sister of Aaron” in Q 19.28 could have been borrowed from

a liturgical text in a Marian feast, like the one Dye indicates. However, this reference could

have also emerged from the qur’ānic community’s encounter with numerous other Christian

traditions that affiliate Mary generally with the Temple and more particularly with Aaron. The

fact that Sūrat Maryam draws heavily upon the Prot. Jas.’s tradition suggests that this work

might provide an attestation as to the origins of this qur’ānic phrase.

The Prot. Jas. links Mary numerous times with the Temple priests, who were referred

to in Jewish tradition as “sons of Aaron,” since the basis of the priesthood was genealogical.411

Thus, the Prot. Jas. relates that the Temple priests blessed Mary while at her parents’ home (PJ

6.2); a priest accepted her to the Temple, were she was raised (PJ 7.2-8.1); and a Temple priest

commissioned her to spin the Temple veil (PJ 10). More importantly, when Mary’s pregnancy

is discovered by the Temple authorities, the high priest interrogates Mary and Joseph (PJ 15.3-

4). When they assert their purity, the priest makes them drink from the “water of refutation”

and sends them to the wilderness (PJ 16.1-2). When Mary and Joseph come back healthy, “all

the people were amazed that their sin was not revealed” (PJ 16.3). The Prot. Jas.’s reference to

411
For the characterization of the Israelite priests in the Hebrew Bible as “sons of Aaron,” see Nahum Sarna,
“Aaronides,” EJ, 1:217-8. For the importance of the use of the term “sons of Aaron” for the priesthood during the
Second Temple period, see Vasile Babota, The Institution of the Hasmonean High Priesthood (Leiden: Brill, 2014),
273-84. For the genealogical basis of the priesthood, see Menahem Haran, “Priests and Priesthood,” EJ, 16:522-
23; Ed Sanders, Judaism: Practice and Belief, 63 BCE – 66 CE (London: SCM Press, 1992), 77.
140
the presence of “the people” in the context of Mary’s interrogation by the high priest regarding

her pregnancy corresponds with Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of the questioning of Mary by “her

people (qawmahā)” (Q 19.27) concerning her newborn son (Q 19.27-28).

Sūrat Maryam furthermore draws upon the Lukan tradition of the annunciations to Mary

and Zechariah (Luke 1).412 Luke preserves significant references to the Temple and the

priesthood in the context of these annunciations. Immediately after introducing his work (Luke

1.1-4), the author of the Lukan account characterizes Zachariah as a priest “who belonged to

the priestly order of Abijah” (Luke 1.5a). Considering the genealogical basis of the priesthood,

this presentation of Zechariah identifies him implicitly as a “descendant of Aaron.” The account

further emphasizes that Elizabeth, Zachariah’s wife, “was a descendant of Aaron (Θυγατέρων

Ἀαρών)” (Luke 1.5b).413 The account progresses directly to describe the annunciation given by

the angel Gabriel to Zechariah during his service in the Temple (Luke 1.8-20). Following this

episode, the angel Gabriel is portrayed as delivering the annunciation to Mary, informing her

that her “relative” (συγγενής) Elizabeth has also conceived (Luke 1.36). Mary visits Elizabeth

and stays at Zechariah’s home for three months (Luke 1.39-40, 56).414 It is therefore clear that

the account of Luke 1, whose tradition inspires the general structure of Q 19.2-21, associates

Mary with Zechariah and Elizabeth, “children of Aaron,” who are affiliated with the Temple.

The Tafsīr tradition is familiar with the identification of the Temple priests as “sons of

Aaron.” Thus, commenting on Sūrat Maryam’s depiction of the dedication of Mary to God by

her mother (Q 3.36-37), the mufassirūn use similar phrases to designate the Jewish priests.

412
For the structural correspondence between the annunciations in Luke’s Gospel and Sūrat Maryam see pages
266-7.
413
The literal translation of the phrase is “was of the daughters of Aaron.” According to the book of Leviticus,
“The priest who is exalted above his fellows … shall marry only a woman who is a virgin. A widow, or a divorced
woman, or a woman who has been defiled, a prostitute, these he shall not marry. He shall marry a virgin of his
own kin, that he may not profane his offspring among his kin” (Lev 21.10, 13-15; cf. Lev 21.7). The priests were
not however obligated to marry a woman of a priestly lineage. See Joseph Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to
Luke: Introduction, Translation, and Notes (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1986), 322; Joel Green, The Gospel of
Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997), 64.
414
The term συγγενής indicates the general meaning of “kin” or “relative,” leaving the level of kinship between
Mary and Elizabeth undefined. See Fitzmyer, op. cit., 352.
141
Muqātil mentions that when Mary’s mother took her to the Temple (Bayt al-Maqdis), the people

(qawm) who cast lots over her were “the religious scholars (al-’aḥbār) from the lineage of

Aaron (min wild Hārūn).”415 Al-Ṭabarī recounts the same tradition about the ’aḥbār casting lots

to decide who would take Mary. Al-Ṭabarī also presents another tradition according to which

Mary’s mother brought her to “the sons of the priest (banī al-kahin), the son of Aaron (bin

Hārūn), the brother of Moses son of ‘Imrān.”416 Al-Zamakhshari and al-Rāzī as well,

commenting on Q 3.37, present a tradition which states that Mary’s mother left her with the

“religious scholars (’aḥbār), sons of Aaron (’abnā‘ Harūn),” who were in the Temple.417

The mufassirūn’s explication of Q 3.36-37 clearly draws upon the Prot. Jas.’s depiction

of the dedication of Mary in the Temple and her deliverance to the priests (PJ 7.2-8.1). Of the

mufassirūn used in this study, al-Ṭabarī alone refers to the people who cast lots over Mary as

“the sons of the priest (banī al-kahin).” However, the fact that the rest of the mufassirūn mention

the ’aḥbār, who were in the Temple, as the ones who cast lots over Mary indicates that this

term refers to learned or scholarly priests, and not mere religious scholars. Muqātil’s statement

that Zechariah was the chief of the ’aḥbār, and al-Ṭabarī’s statement that he was the best of

them (’afḍalahum), further indicate this meaning and the correspondence with the Prot. Jas.

which refers to Zechariah as “the chief priest” (PJ 8.3).418

The fact that Temple priests are designated as “sons of Aaron” already in the eighth

century tafsīr of Muqātil indicates that the early Muslim community and probably also the

author, or authors, of Sūrat Maryam were familiar with this Jewish term. The affiliation of Mary

with Zachariah and Elizabeth, “the descendants of Aaron,” in the Lukan tradition, and with the

Temple priests, the “sons of Aaron,” in the Prot. Jas. and also subsequently in the Tafsīr

tradition could therefore provide an insight into Sūrat Maryam’s designation of Mary as “sister

415
Muqātil, 1: 272, on Q 3.36. The ’aḥbār (sg. ḥibr) indicates the meaning of religious scholars who are dhimmi,
or who were dhimmi before they converted to Islam. See Lisān, vol. 3, 14-15; Tāj, vol. 10, 503-4.
416
Ṭabarī, 5:350, on Q 3.37.
417
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:30, both on Q 3.37.
418
See Muqātil, 1:272, on Q 3.36; Ṭabarī, 5:349, on Q 3.37.
142
of Aaron” in Q 19.28.

The reference to Mary as “sister of Aaron” could have also been inspired by other

sources. For instance, Ephrem the Syrian uses the staff of Aaron as an allegory of Mary in

various hymns:

The staff of Aaron sprouted, and the dry wood brought forth;

His symbol has been explained today – it is the virgin womb that gave birth …

Aaron anticipated him – he who saw that if his staff swallowed reptiles,

His cross would swallow the Reptile that swallowed Adam and Eve.419

The Syriac texts of the Ḥussāyē d-Êdē Mārānāyē and the Panqītā both similarly depict the staff

of Aaron, along with the Temple and some of its objects, as allegories of Mary.420

Besides these Syriac sources, Gregory of Nyssa’s treatise On Virginity provides another

insight into the designation of Mary as “sister of Aaron”:

This reminds us that the prophetess, Miriam, immediately after the crossing of

the sea, took a dry, tuneful “tambourine in her hand” and led a chorus of women.

Perhaps by the tambourine Scripture means to suggest the virginity achieved by

the first Mary, who was, I think, the prototype of Mary the Mother of God. For

as the tambourine produces a loud sound, having no moisture in it and being

quite dry, so also virginity is clear and noised abroad and has nothing in itself of

the life-preserving moisture of this life. If it was a tambourine, a dead body,

which Miriam used, then virginity is the deadening of the body, and it is perhaps

not unlikely that it was being a virgin which set her apart. We suggest from

419
Ephrem, HNat, I.27, as translated in Kathleen McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns (New York: Paulist Press,
1989), 67.
Another similar texts by Ephrem reads: “Have you not heard, Joseph, that the rod flowered at Aaron’s time and
became fresh again, bearing leaves, after being dry and withered? All these symbols that took place, created the
symbol of Christ,” in Edmund Beck, trans. and ed. Nachträge zu Ephrem Syrus, CSCO 363-364, Scr. Syri. 159-
160 (Leuven: Secrétariat du CSCO, 1975), 29, as translated in Marx, “Glimpses of Mariology,” 554).
420
“Hail Mary, pure and sacred young woman, O residence of the heavenly king! Hail Mary, Rod of Aaron! Hail
Mary, closed gate that is not opened! Hail Mary, breathing temple of the exalted God! Hail Mary, rod of strength
and lamp of ample light!,” in Ḥussāyē d-‘Êdē Mārānāyē, 45, as translated in Marx, op. cit., 559.
143
 conjecture and assumption and not from proof that the prophetess, Miriam, led

a chorus of maidens. Many of the learned affirm clearly that she was unmarried

from the fact that there is no mention in Scripture of her marriage or of her

children. Also she would not have been referred to or been known as the sister

of Aaron if she were married, since it is the husband who is the head of the

woman and not her brother, and it is her husband’s name that she is called by.421

The text is notable because it contains the exact phrase “sister of Aaron.” Furthermore, though

Gregory uses this phrase in reference to Miriam the Prophetess, he does so in the context of

presenting a typology between Miriam and the Virgin Mary. The text was originally written in

Greek. However, the works of Gregory of Nyssa were well known in the Syriac-speaking world;

not only were they translated into Syriac, but some were even commented upon by Syriac

authors.422

As the sources discussed here indicate, Mary was affiliated with Aaron in the context

of the Temple in several works. Some Christian texts refer to Miriam, “the sister of Aaron,” as

a type of the Virgin Mary. Sūrat Maryam evidently draws upon the traditions of the Prot. Jas.

and also Luke 1, which affiliates the priesthood with Aaron. This sūra also indicates familiarity

with Syriac traditions and liturgical sources, some of which associate Mary with Aaron and the

Temple. The early Muslim community was aware of the term “sons of Aaron” and the Tafsīr

tradition employed it for the priests of the Jewish Temple. All this evidence could suggest the

possibility that also the author of Sūrat Maryam uses the phrase “sister of Aaron” as a metaphor

for the Virgin Mary.

421
Gregory of Nyssa, On Virginity, trans. Virginia Callahan in Saint Gregory of Nyssa, Ascetical Works
(Washington D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1967), section 19, 60-61. Italics mine.
422
See Martien Parmentier, “Syriac Translations of Gregory of Nyssa,” OLP 20 (1989): 143-193; Parmentier, “A
Syriac Commentary on Gregory of Nyssa’s Contra Eunomium,” Bijdragen 49, no. 1 (1988): 2-17.
144
The Possibility that ‘Imrān Might Indicate Joachim

The reference to Mary as “daughter of ‘Imrān” (Q 66.12) and daughter of “the wife of

‘Imrān” (Q 3.35-36) could be explained in various ways, besides the ones already discussed.

One way of reading the name ‘Imrān in the phrase “daughter of ‘Imrān” is by understanding it

as a translation of the name Joachim. Mary’s father in the Prot. Jas. is called ’Ιωακεὶμ (PJ 1).

The Greek is a rendition of the Hebrew ‫יְ הֹויָקִ ים‬, which means “God raises up.”423 This

signification corresponds with the Arabic denotation of the word ‘Imrān, which derives from

the root ‘. m. r. (.‫ ر‬.‫ م‬.‫)ع‬, and carries the meaning of raising up, building, or erecting.424 On one

hand, the possibility that the author of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān intended to use the name ‘Imrān as a

rendition of Joachim is remote. This is because the Qur’ān conventionally refers to biblical or

extra-biblical characters by an Arabic translation of their name. On the other hand, the Qur’ān

calls certain biblical or famous figures by new names or titles as is the case with Enoch, for

example, to whom it refers as Idrīs.425 The Islamic tradition explicates that the name originates

from the Arabic root d. r. s. (.‫ س‬.‫ ر‬.‫)د‬, indicating studying, due to the extent to which he used

to study (lekathrat mā kān yadrusu).426 If the ‘Imrān mentioned in Q 3.33, Q 3.35, and Q 66.12

does indeed refer to Joachim, then these phrases cease to be “problematic,” since Mary is

depicted in the Prot. Jas. and subsequently also in Christian tradition as the daughter of

Joachim.

This interpretation of ‘Imrān could further support Samir’s reading of Āl-‘Imrān in Q

3.33 as referring to both families, that of Jesus and Mary, and that of Moses, Aaron and Miriam.

‘Imrān in this case could simultaneously refer to the biblical ‘Amram, the father of Miriam, and

also to Joachim, the father of the Virgin Mary. This reading of the text can therefore suggest

423
HELOT, 220.
424
DMWA, 643.
425
For a discussion of the qur’ānic Idrīs as Enoch, see John Reeves, “Some Explorations of the Intertwining of
Bible and Qur’ān” in Bible and Qur’ān: Essays in Scriptural Intertextuality, ed. John Reeves (Atlanta: Society of
Biblical Literature, 2003), 44-52.
426
Abū Muḥammad ‘Abd-Allāh ibn Qutayba, Kītāb al-Ma‘ārif, ed. Tharwat ‘Ukāsha (Cairo: Dār al-Ma‘ārif,
1969), 20-21.
145
that the author of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān is presenting a typology. However, as I argued above, the

absence of any explicit reference to Miriam in the Qur’ān makes Samir’s reading highly

unlikely.

The Metaphorical Reading of “Daughter of ‘Imrān”

Even if ‘Imrān does not refer to Joachim, the phrase “daughter of ‘Imrān” can be

explained in other ways. As indicated above, Mary is affiliated in various Christian works with

Aaron and his sister Miriam. But Mary is also affiliated in numerous excerpts with Moses. Thus,

in his twenty-first demonstration Aphrahat presents a typology between Miriam the Prophetess

and the Virgin Mary that also contains a reference to Moses:

Moses was brought up in the house of Pharaoh;

Jesus was brought up in Egypt, after Joseph took him in flight there.

Miriam stood at the shore of the river while Moses was floating in the water;

Mary brought forth Jesus after angel Gabriel had announced to her.427

These affiliations of the Virgin Mary with the children of ‘Amram – Moses, Aaron and Miriam

– might suggest that the reference to Mary as “daughter of ‘Imrān” (Q 66.12) could also be

understood metaphorically. But this reading is less plausible since, as we saw above, the context

of the qur’ānic phrase requires a literal reading. This conclusion is further supported by the

reference to Mary’s mother as “wife of ‘Imrān” (Q 3.35-36). This phrase must be understood

literally as indicating that Mary’s father was called ‘Imrān, since the Qur’ān does not employ

the word “wife” for metaphorical or allegorical meanings.

The Possibility of a Mistake on Behalf the Author of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

The fact that Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān recasts themes from Sūrat Maryam might explain the

427
Aphrahat, Demonstrations, vol. II, trans. Kuriakose Valavanolickal (Kerala, India: St. Ephrem Ecumenical
Research Institute, 2005), Dem. XXI, section 10, 212.
146
origins of its reference to Mary as the daughter of ‘Imrān and his wife. One could suggest that

the author of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, while recasting themes from Sūrat Maryam, could have

mistakenly referred to the Virgin Mary’s mother as “wife of ‘Imran.” Such a mistake is made

more plausible in light of the affiliation of the Virgin Mary with the family of ‘Amram in

numerous traditions, and the typologies drawn between her and Miriam.

Ibn Kathīr provides an insight in his tafsīr into how such a “mistake” could have taken

place. Commenting on Q 19.28, Ibn Kathīr explains that a certain Muḥammad bin Ka‘b al-

Quraẓī interpreted the phrase “sister of Aaron” to mean that the Virgin Mary was the sister of

Aaron the brother of Moses, from his father and mother.428 Ibn Kathīr emphasizes that this is

an obvious mistake, while explicating:

And what dared al-Quraẓī on [making] this statement [was] what is in the Torah

after the exodus of Moses and the sons of Israel from the sea, and the drowning

of Pharaoh and his people, he said “And Mary the daughter of ‘Imrān, the sister

of Moses and Aaron the prophets, was playing the tambourine, she and the

women with her, praising God and thanking him for what he had graced the

sons of Israel with [of favor]. So al-Quraẓī thought that this one is the mother of

Jesus. And it is a grave lapse and mistake, but rather she [the Virgin Mary] is

[called] by the name of this one [Miriam], and they were called by the names of

their prophets and their righteous people.429

This passage by Ibn Kathīr could explain how typologies like the one presented by Gregory of

Nyssa, which contains a very similar discussion, could have resulted in the conflation of both

Marys in certain circles of the qur’ānic and early Muslim communities.

428
Isma‘īl bin Ūmar Ibn Kathīr, Tafsīr al-Qur’ān al-‘Aẓīm (Beirut: Dār Ibn Ḥazm, 2000), 1186, on Q 19.28.
429
Ibid., 1186, on Q 19.28.
147
Conclusion

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān highlights Mary’s significance by presenting her as a descendant of Āl-

‘Imrān, a family chosen by God whose lineage is interwoven with the lineages of Adam and

Noah and the family of Abraham (Āl-Ibrāhīm). Through this lengthy and detailed discussion, I

have presented the various interpretations of the qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity. The

theme is clearly perplexing. Nevertheless, this chapter has demonstrated that certain

interpretations are definitely invalid and should be excluded. Samir’s view of the intertextuality

of Q 3.33 and its covenant theology, Tottoli’s typological reading, and Mourad’s allegorical

interpretation are largely inaccurate, though they offer important insights into the theme. Dye’s

general claim for an intertextual relationship between Q 19.1-63 and the liturgical readings from

the feast of the Memory of Mary is compelling, though not all of his arguments are sustainable.

Dye’s more specific claim for the dependence of the qur’ānic reference to Mary as “sister of

Aaron” on an excerpt from the Lection of Jeremiah is also plausible. Nevertheless, in light of

the plethora of Christian texts that associate Mary with Amram’s children, we should be

cautious from identifying one specific tradition as the exclusive origin of the qur’ānic references

to Mary’s identity. Rather, these references should be explained within the wider context of the

numerous traditions, allegories and typologies that affiliate the Virgin Mary with the Temple,

Miriam and Aaron. The metaphorical reading of the phrases “sister of Aaron” and “daughter of

‘Imrān” is therefore valid. The possibility that the ‘Imrān mentioned in the latter phrase is meant

to refer to Joachim eliminates the difficulty from understanding this phrase. This reading

remains however remote.

The examination of the qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity has demonstrated that

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān recasts themes from Sūrat Maryam that preceded it. My discussion of this

theme has further revealed very important points. It thus provided evidence for the familiarity

of the Tafsīr tradition with the Prot. Jas. tradition. It further implies the possibility of an

interaction between the qur’ānic community and two Christian milieus. The first is that of
148
Syriac Christianity whose literature associates the Virgin Mary with the family of ‘Amram and

establishes a typological relationship between her and Miriam the Prophetess. The second

milieu is that of the Kathisma church, whose traditions are congruent with the one that Sūrat

Maryam draws upon, and one of its liturgies refers to Aaron as the “brother of Mary.”

149
 Chapter Three

Mary’s Birth and Upbringing

The preceding chapter examined the qur’ānic references to Mary’s identity. The current

chapter will explore the qur’ānic verses that depict Mary’s birth and upbringing. I will present

these verses and follow them with a discussion of the literary motifs employed in them. The

next section will present the mufassirūn’s commentaries on the themes in Q 3.35-37 while

demonstrating their use of traditions from the Prot. Jas. The following section will demonstrate

the intertextuality of the basic phrases and themes of the qur’ānic text with the Prot. Jas. and

other related Christian traditions.

The Qurānic Text

Sūrat Maryam introduces Mary as a mature woman withdrawing from her people before

she encounters the divine messenger who delivers the annunciation to her (Q 19.16-21). Sūrat

Āl-‘Imrān begins, however, by introducing Mary’s genealogy (Q 3.33-34) and moves directly

to mention the vow taken by Mary’s mother to dedicate her yet unborn child to God. It

subsequently depicts Mary’s birth:

(Q 3.35) Behold! When the wife of ‘Imrān said, “My Lord, I have vowed to You

[in dedication] what is within my belly [as a] consecrated [offering]

(muḥarraran); so accept [it] from me. You are the [ever] Hearer, the [ever]

Knower!”

ِ َّ ‫َّك أانْت‬ ِ ِ ‫ت ْامرأاةُ ِعمرا ان ر‬

ِ ِ
‫يع‬
ُ ‫السم‬ ‫ك اما ِِف باطِِْن ُُماَّرًرا فاتا اقبَّ ْل م ِِن إِن ا ا‬ ُ ‫ب إِِّن نا اذ ْر‬
‫ت لا ا‬ ‫إ ْذ قاالا ا ْ ا ا‬
.‫الْ اعلِ ُيم‬
(Q 3.36) So when she brought her forth she said: “My Lord! I have brought her

forth, a female” – and Allah knows best what she brought forth – “and the male

is not as the female; and I have named her Mary, and I seek in You a refuge for
150
 her and her offspring from the accursed Satan.”

ِ ‫اَّلل أ ْاعلام‬ ِ‫ت ر‬

َّ ‫ت ولاْيس‬
‫الذ اك ُر اك ْاْلُنْثاى‬ ‫ا‬ ‫ا‬ ْ ‫ع‬
‫ا‬ ‫ض‬
‫ا‬ ‫و‬‫ا‬ ‫ا‬‫ا‬‫ِب‬ ‫ب إِِّن او ا‬
ُ َُّ ‫ض ْعتُ اها أُنْثاى او‬ ‫ض اعْت اها قاالا ْ ا‬
‫فالا َّما او ا‬
.‫الرِجي ِم‬
َّ ‫ان‬ِ ‫ك وذُ ِريَّتا ها ِمن الشَّيطا‬ ِ
ْ ‫اوإِِّن اَسَّْي تُ اها ام ْراَيا اوإِِّن أُعي ُذ اها بِ ا ا ا ا‬
The account then proceeds immediately to describe Mary’s acceptance by God:

(Q 3.37) So her Lord accepted her with good acceptance and made her grow

well and gave her to the guardianship of (kaffalahā) Zechariah. Whenever

Zechariah entered into her [into] the miḥrāb he found with her sustenance. He

said: “O Mary! From where is this [sustenance provided] to you?” She said: “It

is from Allah; Allah sustains whom he wills without measure.”

‫اًت اح اسنًا اواك َّفلا اها ازاك ِرََّي ُكلَّ اما اد اخ ال اعلاْي اها ازاك ِرََّي‬ً ‫ول اح اس ٍن اوأانْبا تا اها نابا‬ ٍ ‫فاتا اقبَّلاها رُّّبا بِاقب‬
ُ ‫ا اا‬
‫اَّللا يا ْرُز ُق‬ َّ ‫ت ُه او ِم ْن ِعْن ِد‬
َّ ‫اَّللِ إِ َّن‬ ْ ‫ك اه اذا قاالا‬ َّ ‫اب او اج اد ِعْن اد اها ِرْزقًا قا اال اَي ام ْراَيُ أ‬
ِ ‫اَّن لا‬ ِ
‫الْم ْحار ا‬
ٍ ‫من ي اشاء بِغا ِْْي ِحس‬
.‫اب‬ ‫ا‬ ُ ‫اْ ا‬
The account subsequently narrates the annunciation to Zechariah (Q 3.38-41), mentions the

angels’ address to Mary before the annunciation (Q 3.42-43), and then it mentions a past contest

over who was to become Mary’s guardian:

(Q 3.44) This is of the tidings of the hidden [things]. We reveal it [through

inspiration] to you; and you were not [present] with them while [they were]

throwing their reeds (’aqlām) [that they might know] which of them [would] be

the guardian of (yakfulu) Mary, nor were you [present] with them when [they

were] quarrelling.

‫ت لا اديْ ِه ْم إِ ْذ يُْل ُقو ان أاقْ اَل ام ُه ْم أايُّ ُه ْم يا ْك ُف ُل‬

‫ك اواما ُكْن ا‬ ‫وح ِيه إِلاْي ا‬
ِ ُ‫ب ن‬ ِ ‫ك ِم ْن أانْبا ِاء الْغاْي‬ ِ
‫ذال ا‬
.‫ص ُمو ان‬ ِ ‫مراَي وما ُكْنت لا ادي ِهم إِ ْذ اَيْتا‬
ْ ْ ‫اْ ا ا ا ا‬

151
Literary Motifs in the Qur’ānic Text

The qur’ānic verses above are very nuanced and entail various literary motifs related to

Mary’s birth, her genealogy, and her gender. These motifs become more pronounced once

examined in light of relevant Christian texts, as the following discussion will demonstrate.

Mary’s Birth and Genealogy

The first striking characteristic of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s reference to Mary’s birth is the

conciseness of the account. This conciseness becomes more manifest in contrast to the Prot.

Jas., upon which the sūra draws, and which contains a long account of the nativity of Mary with

its focus on the barrenness of Anna and Joachim. The terseness of the qur’ānic account indicates

that the audience of the Qur’ān was aware of the Prot. Jas. tradition, and as Wansbrough argued,

was “expected to supply the missing detail[s].”430

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān introduces Mary’s genealogy, before relating her birth and dedication

to God. Thus, the verse-unit Q 3.33-34 presents the protagonists Adam and Noah and the

families of Abraham and ‘Imrān as an “offspring (dhurriyya) one from another” (Q 3.34). The

Qur’ān often uses the word dhurriyya simply to indicate progeny.431 However, this term is used

only in Q 19.58 and Q 3.33-34 in reference to chosen protagonists who are the heads of

genealogies.

The presentation of genealogies in religious literature has various functions.432 The

larger context of Q 3.33-34 reveals the functions of the reference to the genealogies introduced

in it. Thus, immediately after its mentioning of these genealogies Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān moves on to

portray the pregnant wife of ‘Imrān dedicating her daughter, Mary, to God and commending

her and her offspring to his protection (Q 3.35-36).

430
John Wansbrough, Quranic Studies, 1.
431
See Q 2.226; 3.38; 4.9; 6.133; 7.172-173; 10.83; 17.3.
432
For a summary of these and other functions fulfilled by genealogies in the Hebrew Bible and the Gospels of
Matthew and Luke, see Marshall Johnson, The Purpose of the Biblical Genealogies: With Special Reference to the
Setting of the Genealogies of Jesus (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 77-82 and 253-6.
152
 The connection established here between the genealogy of the protagonists and the

consecration of Mary seems to serve two main functions. The first and most obvious function

is emphasizing the prophetic lineage of Mary’s family.433 The second function of this

connection is the initiation of a notion of teleological fulfillment. The connection between these

genealogies and the consecration of Mary serves a second function, namely the sense of

teleological fulfillment. Thus, the four protagonists mentioned in Q 3.33 are all representatives

of major stages in sacred history. Adam is the first human and the head of humanity, Noah is

the head of the new humanity that survived the flood, Abraham is “the father of the believers,”

and ‘Imrān is the representative head of the family of Mary and Jesus. The sole mention of these

major protagonists along with the reference to their lineage is meant to present the principal

epochs of salvation history as it unfolds teleologically, culminating in the birth of Mary and

later in the birth of Jesus.434

The genealogical account found in Matthew 1 could illuminate the way in which the

connection between the indication of these genealogies (Q 3.33-34) and the depiction of the

consecration of Mary (Q 3.35-36) produces a sense of teleological fulfillment.435 The author of

Matthew 1 begins his account with the phrase, “An account of the genealogy of Jesus the

Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matt 1.1). He subsequently narrates in detail

all the generations from Abraham till “Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born”

(Matt 1.16). The author eventually concludes with the statement, “So all the generations from

Abraham to David are fourteen generations; and from David to the deportation to Babylon,

fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations”

(Matt 1.17).

Matthew’s genealogy provides the reader with a sense of historical and theological

433
For a summary of the use of genealogies to establish the legitimacy of individuals in specific positions, such as
monarchs or priests, see ibid., 79.
434
For a summary of the use of genealogy in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke for this purpose, see ibid., 253-4.
435
Neuwirth points out the correspondence between Matt 1.1-17 and Q 3.33-34. See Neuwirth, “The House of
Abraham,” 507 and n. 24.
153
fulfillment. The Hebrew Bible relates two main divine promises to Abraham and to David

concerning their offspring. God promises Abraham that “by your offspring shall all the nations

of the earth gain blessing for themselves” (Gen 22.18). God also gives the following promise

to David:

When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise

up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will

establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish

the throne of his kingdom forever. … Your house and your kingdom shall be

made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever (2 Sam

7.12-13, 16).

Matthew’s full genealogy as well as the abridged genealogical phrase, “the son of David, the

son of Abraham,” are meant therefore to remind the audience of the promises given to the

patriarch Abraham and King David. This complete genealogy relates the unfolding of the

lineage of Abraham through David until it end in the birth of Jesus, indicating that he stands as

the fulfillment of these promises furthermore by referring to him four times as the Messiah

(Matt 1.1, 16-18).436 The emphasis on the existence of fourteen generations from Abraham to

David, and fourteen more generations from David to the exile, and then fourteen more from the

exile to Jesus, is meant to communicate a sense of providence. Salvation history is guided in a

very orderly and planned way towards a specific telos: the coming of the Messiah to the

world.437 In a sense, the author of the genealogy intends to tell his audience that all of humanity

was anticipating the birth of Jesus, whose life, narrated after this introduction, represents the

beginning of a new era in human history.438

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān could therefore be understood, in light of this reading of Matthew 1, as

436
Charles Davis, “The Fulfillment of Creation: A Study of Matthew’s Genealogy,” JAAR 41, no. 4 (1973): 522.
437
Johnson, The Purpose of the Biblical Genealogies, 254.
438
Davis, “The Fulfillment of Creation,” 522-3, 535.
154
suggesting a notion of historical and teleological fulfillment by introducing the birth of Mary

at the end of its references to these genealogies (Q 3.33-36). The sūra seems to hint at Jesus

when it mentions the “offspring” of Mary in Q 3.36. Jesus is, however, explicitly mentioned

only subsequently, without a direct relation to this genealogy, in a passage on the annunciation

that is connected to a short account of his ministry (Q 3.45-55). Thus, though the sūra preserves

a significant place for Jesus, it does not mention his birth but rather moves directly from the

annunciation to Jesus’ miracles and teaching (Q 3.45-51). Mary’s role as a protagonist does not

end, but rather begins, after the indication of the genealogies (Q 3.37, 42-47). This organization

of the material stands in clear contrast with the genealogies of Matthew and Luke (Matt 1.1-17;

Luke 3.23-38), which lead to Jesus and not to Mary as the final and central protagonist of the

genealogies. Furthermore, after introducing Jesus’ genealogy, these Gospel accounts proceed

with his life and ministry while reducing Mary’s role to a very marginal level after the

genealogies. It is therefore clear that the nativity account of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān presents Mary, and

not Jesus, as the central protagonist, indicating that sacred history led to the central event of her

birth.

The Birth of a Female

Another significant feature of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s nativity account is its depiction of

Mary’s mother’s response to the birth of her female child. The mother’s cry, “My Lord! I have

brought her forth, a female” (Q 3.36) clearly expresses her surprise at the birth of her daughter.

However, the subsequent phrase, “and the male is not as the female” (Q 3.36), seems rather to

indicate a sense of disappointment concerning the fact that the newborn is not a male child.

This statement is perplexing, particularly considering the prominence that the Qur’ān

bestows on Mary. The Qur’ān states that God purified and chose her above the women of the

155
world (Q 3.42).439 Mary’s mother’s statement is also perplexing considering that this text draws

heavily upon the Prot. Jas. tradition, where Mary’s mother expresses exaltation at the birth of

her daughter (PJ 5.2). The disappointment of Mary’s mother in Q 3.36 can nevertheless be

elucidated by looking to the context of the account, other qur’ānic references to females, and

the literary elements of the biblical tradition.

The first explanation for the disappointment of Mary’s mother is implied by the context

of Q 3.36. Mary’s mother vows her unborn child to God while using the masculine adverb

muḥarrar (Q 3.35), which means someone consecrated to the service of God.440 But in Judaism,

Christianity, and Islam, the ability to serve in places of worship in the sense of ministering was

historically reserved only for men. This fact explains why Mary’s mother – who vows to devote

her unborn child to the service of God – was expecting a male child and was therefore

disappointed at giving birth to a female.

A second explanation for this reaction by Mary’s mother might be found in biblical and

post-biblical type-scenes depicting barren women giving birth. The fact that Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

draws upon the Prot. Jas.’s tradition, where Mary’s mother is introduced as a barren woman,

might suggest that Q 3.36 contains an echo of the classical biblical type-scenes of barren

women. Most of these type-scenes contain three basic elements: the portrayal of a woman who

has been barren for a long time and who usually yearns to have a child; her receiving of a divine

promise of a child, whether by God himself or one of his messengers, whether human or divine;

and eventually the birth of the promised and long awaited child.441 However, in all these biblical

type-scenes, the child announced and born, sometimes after long anticipation, is always a male

child.442 This element is also clearly manifested in the Qur’ān, where all the promises of

439
Karen Bauer, “The Male Is Not like the Female (Q 3:36): The Question of Gender Egalitarianism in the Qur’ān,”
RC 3, no. 4 (2009): 638.
440
Lisān, vol. 3, 117; DQU, 198-9.
441
Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative, 58. See Gen 18.9-14, 21.1-3; Judg 13.2-5, 24; 1 Sam 1.2, 5, 9-10, 20.
442
Esther Fuchs, “The Literary Characterization of Mothers and Sexual Politics in the Hebrew Bible,” in Women
in the Hebrew Bible: A Reader, ed. Alice Bach (New York: Routledge, 1999), 137. See Gen 21.1-3; Judg 13.24;
1 Sam 1.20.
156
progeny or the birth of a child refer to a male child.443 Thus, though the Prot. Jas., upon which

the qur’ānic nativity accounts draw, relates the elation of Anna at the birth of her daughter, the

“conventional” expectation of the birth of a male child in this type of account might explain the

disappointment attributed to Mary’s mother in Q 3.36.

This expectation of a male child might also echo two main qur’ānic themes. The first is

the Qur’ān’s claim that certain communities have a very low view of females. Thus, while

polemicizing against those who claim that Allah has daughters, Sūrat al-Naḥl states the

following:

And they assign daughters to Allah, glory be to Him, and for themselves

whatever they desire.

And if one of them receives tidings of [the birth of] a female [daughter], his face

remains darkened and he is [ever] repressed [with grief].

He hides himself from the people, from the dreadfulness of what he was

informed of: Shall he hold to it with disgrace or shall he tread it in the dust? Is

it not evil what they judge? (Q 16.57-59).444

The sūra basically rebukes those who assign daughters to Allah while simultaneously abhorring

female infants to the level that they bury them alive. This negative appreciation of a female

child might be suggested by the reaction of Mary’s mother to the birth of her daughter.

However, since the Qur’ān condemns communities that hold such a view and at the same time

introduces Āl-‘Imrān as a prominent family chosen by God, it is highly unlikely that the reaction

of Mary’s mother to the birth of her daughter is an echo of such negative views of females.

The second theme that might be echoed in the reaction of Mary’s mother is the qur’ānic

notion of the preference of the male over the female. The Qur’ān presents an egalitarian view

of males and females regarding the level of obedience expected from them (Q 33.36), equality

443
See Q 11.71; 37.12; 51.28.
444
The theme is mentioned also in Q 43.16-17.
157
in the punishment of crimes committed by them (Q 5.38; 24.2), and their eternal destiny.445 The

Qur’ān, notwithstanding, clearly indicates the primacy of the male when it explicitly states that

a male should receive a share that equals the portion of two females in an inheritance (Q 4.11,

176). The disappointment of Mary’s mother as expressed in Q 3.36 might therefore indicate her

fear that the gender of her daughter would prevent her from playing a prominent role in the

religious community.

Expositions of the Mufassirūn

The mufassirūn discuss the following themes in their exposition of Q 3.35-37: the

conception of Mary, the vow taken by her mother, the mother’s response to the birth of her

daughter, the acceptance of Mary into the Temple, the contest over who becomes Mary’s

guardian, and finally Mary’s life in the miḥrāb.

The Conception of Mary and the Vow of her Mother

Muqātil relates that Mary’s mother, while pregnant, promised God that if he would save

her and if she would give birth to the child in her womb, she would make him a muḥarrar.

Muqātil explains that a muḥarrar is someone who does not work for this life (dunya) and does

not get married, but rather works for the hereafter (’ākhirah) and abides in the miḥrāb

worshiping God.446

Commenting on Q 3.35, al-Qummī relates that God revealed to ‘Imrān that he would

grant him a male child who would heal the blind and the lepers and raise the dead by God’s

permission. ‘Imrān therefore informed his wife of this revelation. Therefore, when she became

pregnant she thought that she is pregnant with a male. Al-Qummī, however, explains that God’s

445
The Qur’ān explicitly states that all non-believers, , males and females, shall be punished in hell. See Q 48.6;
57.13-15. The believers who do righteous deeds, males and females, will equally enter paradise. See Q 4.124;
40.40; 16.97; 33.73; 48.5.
446
Muqātil, 1:271, on Q 3.35.
158
promise to ‘Imrān should be interpreted to mean that God would grant him a male child as a

grandson through his daughter, thus referring to Jesus, and not a male child from his wife. Al-

Qummī adds that Mary’s mother vowed to dedicate her child because once “they” (probably

referring to the Jews) took a vow, they would put their child in the miḥrāb.447

Al-Ṭabarī cites numerous traditions in his exposition of Q 3.35 which mention that

Mary’s mother dedicated her to the worship of God. Most of these traditions specify that Mary

was dedicated to live in a church (kanīsah).448 In this context, al-Ṭabarī also presents the

following account:

And the reason for the vow of Ḥannah, the daughter of Fāgūdh, the wife of

‘Imrān, according to what we received [is that] … Mary’s mother was with

[married to] ‘Imrān, so ‘Imrān perished while Mary’s mother was pregnant with

Mary … And she [Mary’s mother], according to what they claim, had been

denied the child until she became of old age … and while she was in the shade

of a tree, she observed a bird feeding a nestling of his, and her soul yearned for

the child, and she supplicated Allah to grant her a child, so she conceived Mary,

and ‘Imrān perished, therefore, when she knew that a fetus was in her womb she

made him a nadhīrah to Allah. And the nadhīrah is [means] that she enslaves

him to Allah, so that she makes him confined in the church (kanīsah), cannot be

benefited by him in any way from the things of the world.449

Al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī present a brief version of this latter tradition by al-Ṭabarī. They

both also explain that Mary’s mother dedicated her child to the Temple (Bayt al-Maqdis).450

Al-Zamakhsharī only adds that “they” (again probably referring to the Jews) used to make these

447
Qummī, 1:109, on Q 3.35.
448
Ṭabarī, 5:331-5, on Q 3.35.
449
Ṭabarī, 5:332, on Q 3.35. Al-Ṭabarī uses the word nadhīrah – the feminine of nadhīr, which means Nazirite –
in the last two sentences of this paragraph probably because he means to indicate Mary. His use of nadhīrah is
however inconsistence with his use of the masculine pronouns in these sentences.
450
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161; Rāzī, 8:27, both on Q 3.35.
159
vows in such a manner that once the child became mature, he was given the choice to accept

the vow or not.451 Al-Rāzī also presents a similar tradition but elaborates that the muḥarrar was

dedicated first to the church (kanīsah) and was given the option to choose between remaining

in its service or leaving it once he came to maturity.452

This tradition, about Mary’s mother vowing her unborn child to God, reintroduced in

the tafāsīr of al-Ṭabarī, al-Zamakhsharī, and al-Rāzī clearly corresponds with the account

presented in the Prot. Jas.:

Anna was very upset, and took off her clothes of mourning; she then washed her

face and put on her bridal clothes, and in midafternoon went down to walk in

her garden. She saw a laurel tree and sat beneath it, and after resting a bit she

prayed to the Master, saying, “O God of my fathers, bless me and hear my

prayer, just as you blessed the womb of Sarah and gave her a son, Isaac.”

While Anna was gazing at the sky she saw a nest of sparrows in the laurel tree,

and she mourned to herself, “Woe is me. Who gave me birth? What kind of

womb bore me? … Woe is me, what am I like? I am not like the birds of the sky,

for even the birds of the sky are productive before you, O Lord.”

Then, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared and said to her, ‘Anna, Anna, the

Lord has heard your prayer. You will conceive a child and give birth, and your

offspring will be spoken of throughout the entire world.” Anna replied, “As the

Lord God lives, whether my child is a boy or a girl, I will offer it as a gift to the

Lord my God, and it will minister to him its entire life” (PJ 2.4-3.2, 4.1).

This account from the Prot. Jas. is evidently similar to the tradition presented by al-Ṭabarī, al-

Zamakhsharī, and al-Rāzī in their exposition of Q 3.35. This similitude provides further

evidence not only for the familiarity of the mufassirūn with the Prot. Jas. tradition, but also for

451
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161, on Q 3.35.
452
Rāzī, 8:27, on Q 3.35.
160
their belief in its importance, and perhaps even necessity, for understanding the qur’ānic

nativity accounts.

The Response of Mary’s Mother to the Birth of her Daughter

All the mufassirūn used in this study, except for al-Qummī, explain the response of

Mary’s mother to the birth of Mary as resulting from the fact that only a male was allowed to

be dedicated as a muḥarrar to the Temple or the church.453 Ṭabarī presents various traditions

that elaborate on Mary’s mother’s statement that “the male is not as the female” (Q 3.36). These

traditions contain three main interpretations of this statement. The first is that the male is

stronger than the female and more suitable to perform this service in the church. The second

tradition explains that the woman is not supposed to be in the company of men. The third

tradition explicates that the female cannot enter the holy places (al-Qudus) due to the menstrual

cycle and the puerperium that she experiences.454 Al-Rāzī mentions these three interpretations

and adds another one according to which the male does not face the same accusations that

females face when mingling with others.455 Al-Qummī, having claimed that God promised

‘Imrān a male child, explains that Mary’s mother reacted the way she did because she believed

that God had promised her a male. Al-Qummī also adds in this context that the female cannot

be a messenger of God (rasūl).456

Commenting on the phrase “I have named her Mary, and I seek in You a refuge for her

and her offspring from the accursed Satan” (Q 3.36), the mufassirūn discuss three themes: the

naming of Mary, the reference to her offspring, and her mother’s supplication for refuge for her

and her offspring. The mufassirūn unanimously agree that Mary’s “offspring” is a reference to

Jesus.457

453
Muqātil, 1:271-2; Ṭabarī, 5:337-8; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161; Rāzī, 8:27, all on Q 3.36.
454
Ṭabarī, 5:337-8, on Q 3.36.
455
Rāzī, 8:27-9, on Q 3.36.
456
Qummī, 1:109, on Q 3.36.
457
Muqātil, 1:272; Qummī, 1:109; Ṭabarī 5:339-43; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162, all on Q 3.36.
161
 Concerning the naming of Mary, al-Rāzī explains that since ‘Imrān had died when

Mary’s mother was pregnant, she took the initiative and named her daughter. 458 Al-

Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī further explain that the name Mary (Maryam) means “worshiper”

(‘ābidah) in “their” language (probably referring to the Jews). In this regard both exegetes link

that name with supplication as they explicate that Mary’s mother asked God to make her

impeccable (ya‘ṣimahā) so that her actions would be in conformity with her name.459

Al-Ṭabarī, commenting on the supplication of Mary’s mother, cites a dozen versions of

a tradition according to which all human beings are “touched” or “stabbed” at their birth by

Satan, except for Jesus and his mother.460 The same tradition is also introduced by al-

Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī.461 Al-Zamakhsharī reintroduces the notion of ‘iṣmah in this context

as he interprets this tradition to mean that Satan desires to tempt every newborn, except for

Mary and Jesus, who were safeguarded (ma‘ṣūmayn), along with all who had a character similar

to theirs.462 Another tradition that al-Ṭabarī mentions in this context is that the demons (al-

shayāṭīn) came to Satan (Iblīs) and told him that the idols had lowered their heads. Satan,

therefore, flies over the earth and the seas, but finds nothing until he discovers Jesus born in a

manger, the angels having encircled him. So he returns to the demons saying, “A prophet was

born yesterday. A female has never conceived nor given birth, except while I am in her

presence, except for this one.”463 Al-Rāzī offers another interpretation of the supplication of

Mary’s mother explaining that when she realized that her child is not a male, and could not

458
Rāzī, 8:29, on Q 3.36.
459
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:29, both on Q 3.36. The word ‫ص َمه‬ ْ ‫‘( ِع‬iṣmah) can indicate “preservation,”
“protection,” or “prevention from.” The term ‫( اعتصم باهلل‬i‘taṣama bi-Allahi) means abstained by God’s grace from
transgression. See Lisān, vol. 9, 244-5. However, when God gives someone a ‫ص َمه‬ ْ ‫ ِع‬, making him ‫( َم ْعصوم‬ma‘ṣūm),
it means that the person is “preserved from sin,” meaning that he becomes “impeccable,” “infallible” or “sinless.”
See DMWA, 617.
460
Ṭabarī, 5:339-44, on Q 3.36. Certain versions of this tradition presented by al-Ṭabarī mention that when a
human is born, Satan touches him with his finger; others that Satan squeezes him; and others that the newborn
raises his voice because of the stab of Satan. Some of these traditions relate that Satan intended to stab Mary and
Jesus, but a veil (ḥijāb) was placed between them and him so that the stab did not reach them.
461
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:30, both on Q 3.36.
462
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162, on Q 3.36.
463
Ṭabarī 5:342, on Q 3.36.
162
therefore be a servant in the mosque (masjid), she asked God that he would protect her child

from Satan and make her a righteous and pious woman.464

Mary’s Acceptance into the Temple and the Contest over her Guardian

As indicated in the previous chapter, in their discussion of the phrase “so her Lord

accepted her with good acceptance” (Q 3.37), the mufassirūn relate that Mary’s mother wrapped

her in rags and took her to the Temple (Bayt al-Maqdis).465 Muqātil explains that the reason

behind this action was Mary’s mother’s fear that Mary would not be accepted as a muḥarrarah

because she was female. Muqātil also adds that Mary’s mother “laid her in the Temple (Bayt

al-Maqdis) at the miḥrāb.”466 Al-Ṭabarī, besides relating the tradition that Mary’s mother

delivered her to the Temple, mentions two further traditions, one of which relates that Mary

was delivered to the church (kanīsah),467 and another which mentions that she was delivered to

the miḥrāb.468 Al-Qummī alone does not indicate the delivery of the newborn Mary to the

Temple and merely mentions that “when Mary matured she was in (ṣārat fī) the miḥrāb.”469

All the mufassirūn, except for al-Qummī, interpret the phrase “[the Lord] gave her to

the guardianship of (kaffalahā) Zechariah” (Q 3.37) in light of the reference to the contest over

Mary’s guardianship mentioned in Q 3.44: “and you were not [present] with them while [they

were] throwing their reeds (’aqlām) [that they might know] which of them [would] be the

guardian of (yakfulu) Mary, nor were you [present] with them when [they were] quarrelling.”

The mufassirūn present various versions of an account of a competition between the

464
Rāzī, 8:29, on Q 3.36
465
Muqātil, 1:272, on Q 3.36; Ṭabarī, 5:350; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:30, all on Q 3.37. Al-Zamakhsharī
and al-Rāzī both mention that Mary’s mother carried her to the masjid and left her with the aḥbār who were at the
Temple (Bayt al-Maqdis). This might suggest confusion concerning whether Mary was taken to a mosque or the
Jewish Temple. However, the word masjid is probably meant to indicate in this context a place of worship (sujūd)
and not a mosque.
466
Muqātil, 1:272, on Q 3.36.
467
Ṭabarī, 5:344-5, on Q 3.37.
468
Ṭabarī, 5:349, on Q 3.37.
469
Qummī, 1:109, on Q 3.37.
163
aḥbār over who becomes Mary’s guardian. In some of these traditions Zechariah is presented

as claiming that he is more entitled to be Mary’s guardian because he is married to her aunt.470

Eventually they decide on a contest in which they cast lots with arrows, and according to other

versions with the reeds (’aqlām) they use as scribes to write the Torah. Zechariah wins this

competition and becomes, therefore, Mary’s guardian.471

The Miḥrāb

Commenting on the reference to Mary’s presence in the miḥrāb (Q 3.37), the mufassirūn

present different traditions. Al-Qummī merely mentions that when Mary matured she came to

be in the mihrab, and that she let down the curtain over herself, and no one could see her except

Zechariah, who used to enter the mihrab.472 Muqātil writes that Zechariah raised Mary well in

service and obedience to God and that he built her a miḥrāb in the Temple (Bayt al-Maqdis)

and made its door in its midst, and that no one could ascend to the miḥrāb except with a ladder.

Zachariah also hired a woman to breastfeed Mary, brought her food, and used to lock her door

with a key that remained only with him. Only during her menstrual cycle would Zechariah take

Mary out of the miḥrāb to his home to be with her sister Elizabeth (’īlīshaf‘ bint ‘Imrān), the

mother of John the Baptist (umm Yaḥya), so that after her purification Zechariah would bring

her back to the miḥrāb of the Temple (miḥrābu Bayt al-Maqdis).473 Al-Zamakhsharī and al-

Rāzī also relate that Zechariah built a miḥrāb inside the masjid and that it was a room to which

470
Some of the mufassirūn mention in this context that Zechariah was married to Mary’s sister. See Muqātil, 1:272,
on Q 3.36; Ṭabarī, 5:349 and n. 3 and 4, on Q 3.37.
471
Muqātil merely mentions in this context that the aḥbār cast lots three times with their reeds, and Zechariah
won. See Muqātil, 1:272-3, on Q 3.36. Al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī elaborate that there were twenty-seven of the
aḥbār who went to a river and threw their reeds in it, and all the reeds sank except for Zechariah’s reed, which
floated over the water. See Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:30, both on Q 3.37. Al-Ṭabarī presents numerous
traditions of this account, in some of which he relates that the aḥbār cast lots with their sticks, reeds, or arrows,
and Zechariah won the contest. See Ṭabarī, 5:345-53, on Q 3.37. According to some of these traditions, the contest
involved the aḥbār throwing their reeds or arrows in the river and seeing whether the waters would flow with
them. All flowed on, except for the reed or the arrow of Zechariah, which stood still in the river. See Ṭabarī, 5:345-
6 and 348-9, on Q 3.37.
472
Qummī, 1:109, on Q 3.7.
473
Muqātil, 1:273, on Q 3.37.
164
he would climb up with a ladder.474

Al-Ṭabarī, al-Zamakhsharī, and al-Rāzī present two main sets of traditions in this

context. The first explains the meaning of miḥrāb as the most prominent and most honorable

seat of every council or assembly (majlis) or oratory (maṣlā). The second set of traditions relates

that Zachariah used to lock Mary behind seven doors.475 Al-Ṭabarī mentions an additional

tradition according to which Zechariah put Mary with him in a home that was the miḥrāb.476

Commenting on the reference to the sustenance that Zechariah used to find with Mary

(Q 3.37), the mufassirūn relate a core tradition: Zechariah used to find with Mary the fruit of

the summer in winter, and the fruit of the winter in summer.477 Al-Zamakhsharī and al-Ṭabarī

relate that according to another tradition Zechariah used to find with Mary the fruit of paradise

(al-Jannah).478 Al-Zamakhsharī adds that Mary was never breastfed, and he elaborates that

Zechariah asked Mary concerning her sustenance, because the food was not similar to the food

of this world, it did not come in its season, and the doors were locked over Mary so that no one

could have had access to her.479

The Qur’ānic Text and Late Antique Traditions

Q 3.35-37 and Q 3.44 contain various evident points of correspondence with the Prot.

Jas. Some of these points have already been discussed in earlier studies.480 Nevertheless,

474
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:32, both on Q 3.37.
475
Ṭabarī, 5:356 and 358-9; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162-3; Rāzī, 8:32, all on Q 3.37.
476
Ṭabarī, 5:356, on Q 3.37.
477
Qummī, 1:109; Ṭabarī, 5:353-7; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:163; Rāzī, 8:33, all on Q 3.7.
478
Ṭabarī, 5:356; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:163, both on Q 3.37. Al-Ṭabarī, who presents numerous accounts of the main
tradition, also relates two additional traditions. According to the first, Zechariah used to find Mary with a small
basket of grapes out of season. See Ṭabarī, 5:353-5, on Q 3.37. According to the second tradition, Zechariah used
to find that Mary had an additional amount of what he brought her. See Ṭabarī, 5:357, on Q 3.37. Al-Ṭabarī
recounts another unique tradition in which a catastrophe struck the sons of Israel and prevented Zechariah from
taking care of Mary any longer. Zechariah, therefore, went to the sons of Israel and explained his situation. They
cast lots and the lots fell to a carpenter among them called Jurayj, who used to bring an offering from his daily
earning for Mary. As he entered the church (kanīsah) with it, God made it increase and multiply. So when
Zechariah would visit Mary, he used to find an abundance of things with her, and he would ask her about its source.
See Ṭabarī, 5:357-8, on Q 3.37.
479
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:163, on Q 3.37.
480
See for example Mourad, “On the Qur’anic Stories,” 18-19 and 22-23; Horn, “Intersections,” 140-42; Reynolds,
The Qur’ān and Its Biblical Subtext, 140-47.
165
various other congruencies between both texts can be established, while other correspondences

discussed earlier can be further illuminated. The following examination will demonstrate these

correspondences.

The Vow of Mary’s Mother

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān does not mention the angel’s annunciation to Mary’s mother. The text

moves directly from introducing the chosen protagonists and referring to their lineages – among

whom Mary’s family, Āl-‘Imrān, is included (Q 3.33-34) – to depicting the pregnant wife of

‘Imrān dedicating her yet unborn child to the service of God: “Behold! When the wife of ‘Imrān

said, ‘My Lord, I have vowed to You [in dedication] what is within my belly [as a] consecrated

[offering] (muḥarraran); so accept [it] from me’” (Q 3.35). This dedication of the yet unborn

Mary by her mother to the service of God clearly corresponds with Anna’s vow in the Prot.

Jas. In this account, however, Anna vows to dedicate her child not only before she is born but

before she is even conceived. Anna immediately responds to the annunciation from the angel

by stating, “As the Lord God lives, whether the child is a boy or a girl, I will offer it as a gift to

the Lord my God and it will minister to him its entire life” (PJ 4.1). The connection between

both references is further indicated by al-Ṭabarī, al-Zamakhsharī, and al-Rāzī who introduce in

their exposition of Q 3.35 an account taken from the Prot. Jas.’s tradition of the annunciation

(PJ 3.1-4.1).481

Mary’s Depiction as a Nazirite

‘Imrān’s wife dedicates the child in her belly as a muḥarrar (Q 3.35). The mufassirūn,

as mentioned above, generally agree that a muḥarrar is a person who is totally devoted to the

service of God. They emphasize that, based on this vow, Mary was not to leave the Temple

481
Ṭabarī, 5:332; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161; Rāzī, 8:27, all on Q 3.35.
166
(Bayt al-Maqdis) or the Church (kanīsah).482 In this context, al-Ṭabarī specifies that Mary was

dedicated as a Nazirite to God (li-llahi Nadhīrah).483 The presentation of Mary as a Nazarite is

clearly indicated in Anna’s vow and the general depiction of Mary’s life in the Prot. Jas. Anna

thus states, “I will offer it [the child] as a gift to the Lord my God and it will minister to him its

entire life” (PJ 4.1). The reference to Mary as a “gift” to God and the emphasis on her being

dedicated for her “entire life” indicates the notion of her being dedicated as a Nazirite. This

view is further confirmed once the dedication of Mary in the Prot. Jas. is compared to the

corresponding biblical depiction of the dedication of the unborn children of Samson’s mother

(Judg 13.3-5) and more so Hannah, Samuel’s mother, to the service of God (1 Sam 1.11).484

These three accounts correspond in certain points and differ in others. Thus, the biblical

accounts refer to the future birth of a male child. Samuel’s mother is informed by the angel that

she will have a son (Judg 13.3), and Hannah asks God specifically for a male child (1 Sam

1.11). Anna, however, expresses uncertainty concerning the gender of her child (PJ 4.1).

Nevertheless, Anna’s vow is clearly analogous to that of Hannah, who vows saying,

“Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not

forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his

life, and no razor will ever be used on his head” (1 Sam 1.11). Though this vow does not refer

to Samuel explicitly as a Nazirite, the definitive statement “no razor will ever be used on his

head” accords with the biblical instructions concerning the Nazirites (“all the days of their

Nazirite vow no razor shall come upon the head” [Num 6.5]). Hannah’s vow is also similar to

the angel’s explicit command to Samson’s mother, specifying that “no razor is to come on his

head, for the boy shall be a Nazirite to God from birth” (Judg 13.5).485 Subsequently, the text

482
Muqātil, 1:271, Ṭabarī, 5:331-5, Zamakhsharī, 1-2:161; Rāzī, 8:27, all on Q 3.35.
483
Ṭabarī, 5:332, on Q 3.35.
484
Megan Nutzman, “Mary in the Protevangelium of James: A Jewish Woman in the Temple?” GRBS 53 (2013):
570-3. Nutzman argues that the Prot. Jas.’s portrayal of the childhood of Mary in a way parallels the childhood of
Samuel, who was a Nazirite. She concludes that this indicates the work’s intention to depict Mary also as a Nazirite.
485
For Samson and Samuel as Nazirites, see Jacob Milgrom, “Nazirite,” EJ, 15:46.
167
refers explicitly to Samuel as a Nazirite. After he is born, Hannah tells her husband that once

Samuel is weaned, she “will offer him as a Nazirite for all time” (1 Sam 1.22).

Anna’s hypersensitivity to Mary’s purity further implies this notion of Nazirite

dedication. Anna thus prevents the infant Mary from walking more than seven steps until she

takes her to the Temple at the age of three (PJ 6.1). Anna also make a sanctuary for Mary in her

bedroom and does not allow “anything impure or unclean to pass through her lips” and calls

the “undefiled (τὰς ἀμιαντους) daughters of the Hebrews” to entertain her (PJ 6.1). The term

“undefiled (ἀμίαντος),” as used in this context, could indicate virginity or ritual purity or

both.486 The emphasis on the purity of Mary’s surroundings echoes the instructions found in the

book of Numbers regarding the Nazirites:

The LORD spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Israelites and say to them: When

either men or women make a special vow, the vow of a nazirite, to separate

themselves to the LORD, they shall separate themselves from wine and strong

drink; they shall drink no wine vinegar or other vinegar, and shall not drink any

grape juice or eat grapes, fresh or dried. All their days as nazirites they shall eat

nothing that is produced by the grapevine, not even the seeds or the skins. …

All the days that they separate themselves to the LORD they shall not go near a

corpse. Even if their father or mother, brother or sister, should die, they may not

defile themselves; because their consecration to God is upon the head. All their

days as nazirites they are holy to the LORD (Num 6.1-8).

Aiming to overemphasize Mary’s purity, the Prot. Jas. mentions that Anna not only prevented

her from having wine, strong drink, and vinegar, but “anything impure or unclean.” Mary was

furthermore not only prohibited from touching corpses, but was even forbidden to touch the

ground and interact with anyone except for the “undefiled daughters of the Hebrews” (PJ 6.1).

486
Vuong, Purity and Gender, 93-4.
168
 The Prot. Jas.’s intention to depict Mary as a Nazirite in a manner similar to Samuel

can be further deduced from the manifest parallels between certain elements in the work’s

narration and that of 1 Samuel.487 The main correspondence between the accounts in this regard

is found in the depiction of the dedication of Mary and Samuel to the Temple. 1 Samuel thus

relates that after the birth of Samuel, “Elkanah and all his household went up to offer to

the LORD the yearly sacrifice, and to pay his vow” (1 Sam 1.21), except for Hannah who says

to her husband: “As soon as the child is weaned, I will bring him, that he may appear in the

presence of the LORD, and remain there forever; I will offer him as a nazirite for all time” (1

Sam 1.22).488 Elkanah agrees with his wife’s decision, but he reluctantly answers, “Only, may

the LORD establish his word” (1 Sam 1.23). After Hannah weans Samuel, she takes him to the

Temple and offers him there to the service of God (1 Sam 1.24-28). The Prot. Jas. relates that

when Mary turned two years old, Joachim said, “Now we should take her up to the Temple of

the Lord, to fulfill the promise we made, otherwise the Master may send some harm our way

and our gift be deemed unacceptable” (PJ 7.1). Anna, however, insists that Mary be dedicated

only after she turns three years old (PJ 7.1). The correspondence with 1 Samuel 1 is revealed in

three main points. Firstly, Anna, like Hannah, insists on delaying the dedication of the child to

the Temple. Secondly, Joachim, in a manner similar to Elkanah, agrees with the decision of his

wife but remains hesitant concerning it. Thirdly, Anna’s insistence on dedicating Mary only

when she turns three years old indicates that she, like Hannah, intended to wait until Mary was

487
There is a clear correspondence between the vows made by the barren Anna and Hannah to dedicate their
children (for whom they supplicated God) to his service. But the accounts contain various other parallels. The
character of Anna is clearly the equivalent of that of Hannah, Samuel’s mother. One of the first points to be noticed
is that the Greek name Anna is clearly taken from Hannah, its Hebrew equivalent. Joachim, Anna’s husband, is
depicted as offering “a double portion of his gifts to the Lord” (PJ 1.1); while Elkanah, Hannah’s husband, gives
her “a double portion” (1 Sam 1.4). Anna is also provoked by her maidservant for not bearing children (PJ 2.3), in
the same way Peninnah, Hannah’s rival, is described as provoking Hannah “severely, to irritate her, because the
Lord had closed her womb” (1 Sam 1.6). Anna’s song of praise after the birth of Mary (PJ 7.3) clearly corresponds
to the song of praise that Hannah sings after the birth of Samuel (1 Sam 2.1-10). For these parallels, see Paul
Foster, “The Protevangelium of James,” ET 118, no. 12 (2007): 576-7.
488
Italics mine.
169
weaned, since the ancient Israelite women nursed their children for as long as three years.489

The Prot. Jas. relates that Mary’s parents delivered her to the Temple, where she

remained until the age of twelve (PJ 8.1-2). Certain scholars interpret this reference to Mary’s

dedication to the Temple as a further indication of the author’s ignorance of Jewish customs.490

Other scholars insist however on reading this portrayal in light of Jewish traditions.491 The Prot.

Jas.’s depiction of Mary’s stay in the Temple might draw upon Second Temple practices and

traditions related to female Nazirites.492 Second Temple literature indicates the growth in the

popularity of the biblical account of Samuel’s dedication as a Nazirite (1 Sam 1).493 This

literature, alongside rabbinic sources, further implies an increase in the significance of the

Nazirite vow, also taken among women, which seems to have resulted in the rise of a Nazirite

community that corresponds with the establishment of a Nazirite chamber in the area of the

women’s court in the Herodian Temple.494 Even after the destruction of the Second Temple,

the concept of the Nazirite and Nazirite vow endured for centuries within the Jewish and

Christian literature and was deeply associated with female Nazirites and the notion of

489
Mayer Gruber, “Breast-Feeding Practices in Biblical Israel and in Old Babylonian Mesopotamia,” JANES 19
(1989): 63 and 68. Gruber points out a reference in 2 Maccabees in which a woman tells her son, “I carried you
nine months in my womb, and nursed you for three years” (2 Macc 7.27). Gruber presents the views of other
scholars who contend that Hannah weaned Samuel at the age of two or three, and the view of some commentators
who argue for the impossibility of dedicating a child to the priest at this early age. Gruber also emphasizes the
existence of ample evidence from the Middle East and other parts of the world for weaning at any age between
three and fifteen, concluding therefore that Hannah must have nursed Samuel for a long period of time. See ibid.,
66-7.
490
See for example Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament, 49.
491
Vuong, for example, argues that the dedication of Mary to the Temple should be read in a Jewish context. She
emphasizes the use of the term δῶρον for Mary as a gift dedicated to the Temple in Anna’s vow, as well as in
Joachim’s insistence on the dedication of Mary to the Temple when he states that “otherwise the Master may send
some harm our way and our gift (δῶρον) be deemed unacceptable” (PJ 7.1). Since the term δῶρον is also used for
Joachim’s offerings to the Temple (PJ 5.1), Vuong concludes that the portrayal of Mary as a “gift” is meant to
indicate a “sacrifice.” In light of her conclusion, Vuong observes that, in a way similar to the sacrifices of the Old
Testament, Mary’s life is kept pure and without blemish before her dedication. Once she is accepted to the Temple,
she is preserved from any form of idolatry. See Vuong, Gender and Purity, 94, 97-101. For another attempt to
explain Mary’s dedication to the Temple in light of Jewish traditions, see Tim Horner, “Jewish Aspects of the
Protoevangelium of James,” JECS 12, no. 3 (2004): 321-4.
492
Nutzman argues that the Prot. Jas. structures Mary’s life around Jewish traditions that depict the association of
three categories of women to the Temple: the accused adulteresses, the virgins who prepared the Temple curtains,
and the female Nazirites. See Nutzman, “Mary in the Protevangelium of James,” 551-78. For the female Nazirites
see ibid., 570-3.
493
Ibid., 571-2.
494
Ibid., 572-5.
170
virginity.495 The popularity of the Nazirite vow among women, and the permanent space

allocated for the Nazirite community in the Temple area might provide a further indication that

the Prot. Jas. intends to portray Mary as a Nazirite.496

The comparison of Mary’s dedication in the Prot. Jas. with the biblical accounts of the

birth of Samson and the dedication of Samuel reveals that the Prot. Jas. intends to portray

Mary’s consecration as equivalent to that of a Nazirite. The general correspondence between

the Prot. Jas.’s account and the references to Mary in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, and the particular

correspondence between PJ 4.1 and Q 3.35, imply that the qurānic author employs the term

muḥarrar in reference to the dedication of Mary to God to indicate the meaning of “Nazirite.”

The Notion of Immaculate Conception

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān does not make any statement regarding the conception of Mary. Thus,

after presenting the chosen protagonists and referring to their lineages it immediately portrays

the pregnant wife of ‘Imrān vowing her unborn daughter to the service of God (Q 3.35-36).

This short account has nothing to indicate any notion of a virginal conception of Mary, nor does

it contain any explicit statement concerning Mary’s immaculate conception, or her being free

from original sin – concepts that are alien to the Qur’ān.497 Nevertheless, the qur’ānic references

to Mary in this context also do not present any clear statement that would deny these notions.

They rather leave the possibility of such interpretations open.

The correspondence between Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and the Prot. Jas. might elucidate these

themes. Both texts, as explicated above, portray Mary’s mother as dedicating her yet unborn

495
Ibid., 575-7.
496
Ibid., 575 and 577-8.
497
The belief in the Immaculate Conception of Mary is not to be confused with the doctrine of the Virgin Birth,
which states that Mary conceived Jesus and gave birth to him while remaining a virgin. See L. G. Owens and
Frederick Jelly, “Virgin Birth,” NCE, XIV: 532-9. The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception expresses the belief
that the Virgin Mary was free from original sin from her conception onwards. This doctrine does not state that
Mary was born from a virgin mother or without sexual relations between her parents. See Edward O’Connor,
“Immaculate Conception,” NCE, VII: 331-5.
171
child to the service of God (PJ 4.1; Q 3.35). Both accounts do not explicitly state that Mary was

free from original sin, or any form of sin. But their emphasis on the consecration of the whole

being of Mary to the service of God, before her birth, and for all her life suggest the accounts’

intention to highlight Mary’s exceptional sanctity.

The absence of ‘Imrān from the qurānic nativity accounts might indicate that these texts

encourage this reading. Thus, though the Qur’ān refers to Mary as “daughter of ‘Imrān,” to her

mother as the “wife of ‘Imrān,” and to the family as Āl-‘Imrān, ‘Imrān himself is never

introduced as a character. These qur’ānic texts seem to use the name of ‘Imrān as a means for

identifying the family and its members, but they entirely avoid identifying or even referring to

‘Imrān himself. ‘Imrān’s absence is clear in Q 3.35-36, where his wife fulfills all the

responsibilities that in a patriarchal society would be left to the authority of the husband. Thus,

it is Mary’s mother who decides to dedicate her unborn child to the service of God (Q 3.35).

The mother alone is depicted as reacting to the birth of her daughter; she names her; and finally

she offers supplication for her protection and the protection of her offspring from Satan (Q

3.36). The Qur’ān seems also to deliberately avoid mentioning Joseph, Mary’s husband, not

only in the context of the nativity but altogether, probably in order to remove any suspicion

regarding Mary’s chastity and the virginal birth of Jesus.498 A similar intention might lie behind

the omission of any reference to the person of ‘Imrān.

Indication at Mary’s Miraculous Conception in the Prot. Jas.

The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, stating that Mary was free from original

sin from her conception onward, was theologically articulated only in the twelfth century.

Notwithstanding, the second-century Prot. Jas. seems to be the first work to indicate that Mary

498
For this point see Mourad, “On the Qur’anic Stories,” 19.
172
was conceived in a miraculous manner.499 The account thus begins by depicting Joachim as

being denied the right to offer his gifts first to the Lord because he has not produced offspring

in Israel (PJ 1.2). Joachim therefore withdraws to the wilderness and fasts for forty days while

vowing, “I will not come down for either food or drink until the Lord my God visits me. My

prayer will be my food and drink” (PJ 1.4). The absence of Joachim makes Anna believe that

he is dead, and she mourns “twice over,” saying, “I mourn for being a widow, I mourn for being

childless” (PJ 2.1). Very distressed, Anna goes down to walk in her garden, where she

beseeches God to bless her in the same way he blessed “the womb of Sarah and gave her a son,

Isaac” (PJ 2.4). There she receives the annunciation from the angel of the Lord concerning the

impending birth of her child (PJ 4.1). After this annunciation two angels inform Anna that her

husband, Joachim, is coming back because an angel of the Lord told him that his prayer was

heard. The Prot. Jas.’s manuscripts differ in this regard, however, as certain manuscripts

mention that the angel announced to Joachim that “your wife Anna has conceived (ἐν γαστρὶ

εἴλαφεν) a child” (PJ 4.2), while others mention that the angel announced that Anna “will

conceive (ἐν γαστρὶ λήψεται)” a child.500 Joachim returns with his flocks and meets Anna, who

“stood beside the gate” (PJ 4.4). Anna runs to Joachim, embracing him and announcing that she

has conceived a child, and “then Joachim rested (ἀνεπαύσατο) the first day in his home” (PJ

4.4). Joachim offers his gifts at the Temple the next day (PJ 5.1) and then he disappears from

the scene again. Joachim is not mentioned in the context of Mary’s birth, in which Anna names

her (PJ 5.2), or that of Mary’s upbringing at home, in which Anna makes her a sanctuary at her

home (PJ 6.1).

Scholars differ concerning which group of the Prot. Jas.’s manuscripts is the original.

Those who maintain that the future tense “will conceive” is used in the earliest and more

499
Brian Reynolds, Gateway to Heaven: Marian Doctrine and Devotion, Image and Typology in the Patristic and
Medieval Periods, vol. 1, Doctrine and Devotion (Hyde Park, NY: New City Press, 2012), 330-31.
500
See Daniels, “The Greek Manuscript Tradition,” vol. II, 134-5; Smid, Protoevangelium Jacobi, 41.
173
genuine manuscripts argue that the statement “then Joachim rested (ἀνεπαύσατο) the first day

in his home” (PJ 4.4) carries a sexual connotation. They therefore conclude that Mary was

conceived naturally.501 The same verb for “rest” is used one more time in the Prot. Jas. The

account thus depicts Joseph as coming home after months of working away from home (PJ

13.1). After discovering that Mary is pregnant, he suspects that she might have committed

adultery and is not sure how to act (PJ 13-14.1); but an angel appears to him, assuring him that

“that which is in her [Mary] comes from the Holy Spirit” (PJ 14.2). The following day, when a

scribe called Annas visits Joseph and asks him why he did not appear before the council, Joseph

replies, “I was tired from my journey and rested (ἀνεπαυσάμην) on my first day back” (PJ 15.1).

This last reference clearly does not intend to convey any sexual implications, especially since

the main objective of the Prot. Jas. is to highlight Mary’s virginity. The text thus emphasizes

that Joseph was merely Mary’s guardian, and that the fetus in Mary’s womb was “from the

Holy Spirit (PJ 14.2). This implies that also the earlier use of “rested” (PJ 4.4) has no sexual

connotation and might also suggest in turn that Anna conceived Mary while Joachim was away

from home.502

The reference to Joachim’s resting is, notwithstanding, less relevant for this discussion.

This is because the account explicitly states that Anna informs Joachim that she has “conceived

a child” immediately when she meets him beside the gate as he comes from the wilderness,

before the text mentions Joachim’s resting at his home (PJ 4.4). It could be argued, of course,

that Anna had conceived by Joachim and was already pregnant before he went to the

wilderness.503 This view is however unconvincing, since the author of the narrative seems to

501
For a presentation of the various scholarly views regarding this matter, see Smid, Protoevangelium Jacobi, 41.
502
For this theme see Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 39 and n. 4:4; De Strycker, La Forme, 81 and n. 3; Émile de
Strycker, “Die griechischen Handschriften des Protoevangeliums Jacobi,” in Griechische Kodikologie und
Textüberlieferung, ed. Dieter Harlfinger (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1980), 581-2. For the
relationship between the Prot. Jas. and the development of the doctrine of the “Immaculate Conception,” see
Stephen Benko, The Virgin Goddess: Studies in the Pagan and Christian Roots of Mariology (Leiden: Brill, 2004),
204-6.
503
This view is suggested in Lorenzo Peretto, “La Vergine Maria nel pensiero di uno scrittore del secondo secolo
(La Mariologia del Protevangelo di Giacomo),” Marianum 16 (1954), 252.
174
have intentionally situated Joachim’s absence from home at the time when Anna receives the

annunciation from the angel.

The belief in the Immaculate Conception was already present in the thought of the early

Church Fathers. These fathers did not have an articulate concept of the Immaculate Conception

as it came to be formulated in the late medieval period. Nevertheless, the early Fathers did

believe that by virtue of her being the Mother of God, Mary had to be excluded, in one way or

another, from the natural post-lapsarian state of humans; and they generally held that Mary

never actively committed any sin.504

The notion of the Immaculate Conception seems to have been present in Eastern liturgy

long before it was articulated doctrinally in the West. Thus, among the five liturgical feasts that

the Prot. Jas. inspired was the feast of the Conception of the Theotokos. This feast seems to

have originated before 700 C.E. in Syrian monasteries, from where it spread throughout the

Byzantine world. The feast celebrates Anna’s conception of Mary after a long period of sterility,

as is narrated in the Prot. Jas.505 It highlights Mary’s role in salvation history as told in the Prot.

Jas. and celebrates the special divine intervention that guarded Mary from her very conception

against the influence of Satan. The liturgical texts based on the Prot. Jas. emphasize that the

angel’s announcement about the conception of Mary declared that Mary was chosen by the

Holy Spirit long before she conceived Jesus, and that she was sanctified prior to her birth. This

feast is celebrated in the East on the 9th of December.506

The widespread belief in the Immaculate Conception already in the pre-Islamic era

suggests that the qur’ānic community probably encountered this doctrine. Whether the author,

or the authors, of the Prot. Jas. intended to hint that Mary was born without intercourse remains

504
Reynolds, Gateway to Heaven, 332.
505
O’Connor, “Immaculate Conception.”
506
Calabuig, “The Liturgical Cult of Mary,” 285-6. In the West this feast went through various stages from
suppression to revival, resulting in critical discussions concerning Mary’s conception. With the development of
the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, the feast received increasing popularity until it was eventually
celebrated, with the affirmation of the doctrine, as the Feast of the Immaculate Conception on the 8 th of December.
O’Connor, “Immaculate Conception,” 333-5; Jounel, “The Year,” 139-40.
175
unclear. The account, notwithstanding, definitely aims at keeping Joachim away from the

annunciation of the birth of Mary, her conception, her birth, and even the early stages of her

upbringing. This removal of Joachim from these critical points in the Prot. Jas. corresponds

with ‘Imrān’s absence from the qur’ānic nativity accounts. The idea of Mary’s miraculous

conception or immaculate conception remains therefore a possible notion in both works.

Mary’s Gender

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān reveals two main points of correspondence with the Prot. Jas. regarding

Mary’s gender. The first is that both accounts abstain from specificing Mary’s gender in the

context of the annunciation of Mary or her mother’s pregnancy. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān thus depicts

‘Imrān’s wife declaring, “My Lord, I have vowed to You [in dedication] what (mā) is within

my belly [as a] consecrated [offering]” (Q 3.35). The use of the indeclinable relative pronoun

mā (‫)ما‬, meaning “what” or “that which,” indicates the mother’s lack of knowledge of the gender

of the unborn child.507 This lack of knowledge is further emphasized when ‘Imrān’s wife

subsequently expresses her surprise at the birth of her daughter as she cries out, “My Lord! I

have brought her forth, a female … and the male is not as the female” (Q 3.36).

The Prot. Jas. also expresses ignorance concerning Mary’s gender in the contexts of her

annunciation and her birth. Thus, when delivering the annunciation to Anna, the angel merely

mentions the future birth of a seed or offspring, while using the Greek neuter σπέρμα (PJ 4.1).

Responding to the annunciation, Anna emphasizes this point, as she promises, “whether my

child is a boy or a girl, I will offer it as a gift to the Lord my God” (PJ 4.1).508 When Mary is

subsequently born, Anna expresses the same ignorance concerning the gender of her newborn

child as she asks the midwife, “What is it? (τί ἐγέννησα)” (PJ 5.2).509

507
Concerning mā (‫ )ما‬as a non-gendered particle that is used in apposition to an indefinite noun see GAL, vol. 2,
276-7.
508
Italics mine.
509
The verb γεννάω means to “cause to come into being” and therefore also “to father, beget, or procreate.” See
GELNT, 79. The question “τί ἐγέννησα?” could be rendered more literally as “what have I begotten?”
176
 The second point of correspondence between the works in this regard concerns the

immediate identification Mary after her birth as a female. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān mentions that just as

Mary’s mother “brought her forth” she instantly stated “My Lord! I have brought her forth, a

female” (Q 3.36). The Prot. Jas. also mentions that Mary was immediately proclaimed after

being born as “a girl” (PJ 5.2). However, in this account it is the midwife who identifies Mary’s

gender and not her mother who asks, “What is it?” (PJ 5.2). Another minor correspondence that

is worth mentioning here is that both accounts relate that Mary was named by her mother. Sūrat

Āl-‘Imrān seems, however, to indicate that Mary was named immediately after her birth (Q

3.36), while the Prot. Jas. relates that Anna named her child only after the days of her

purification were completed (PJ 5.2).510

The main difference between these accounts, as indicated earlier, lies in the reaction of

Mary’s mother to the birth of her daughter. Thus, while Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān depicts the

disappointment of ‘Imrān’s wife at the birth of her daughter, the Prot. Jas. relates that when

Anna was informed by the midwife that she gave birth to “a girl,” she said, “My soul is exalted

today” (PJ 5.2). The Prot. Jas. in fact prepares the mind of the reader in advance for the

possibility that the child could be a female and not necessarily a male. This is expressed in the

ambiguity of the angel’s annunciation to Anna regarding the gender of her future child (PJ 4.1).

It is also conveyed in Anna’s vow, “As the Lord God lives, whether my child is a boy or a girl,

I will offer it as a gift to the Lord my God” (PJ 4.1).511

The Immaculacy of Mary

Though the qur’ānic nativity accounts do not contain statements that explicitly convey

the notion of the Immaculate Conception, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān suggests the immaculacy or

510
Horn, “Intersections,” 140-141. This reference in the Prot. Jas. suggests that Anna breastfed Mary for 67 days
after her birth, since according to the Levitical purification laws a woman is deemed unclean for 66 days after
giving birth to a female child (Lev 12.5). For a discussion of this theme in the Prot. Jas. see Vuong, Gender and
Purity, 89-91.
511
Italics mine.
177
sinlessness of Mary in three ways. The first is found in the supplication that Mary’s mother

offers, immediately after Mary’s birth, when she implores God saying: “I seek in You a refuge

for her and her offspring from the accursed Satan” (Q 3.36). The supplication in itself does not

indicate the sinlessness of Mary and Jesus. Q 3.36 could however be understood in light of Q

3.42 and Q 3.55, which mention the “purification” of Mary and Jesus respectively by God.512

Q 3.42 reads “And [mention] when the angels said: ‘O Mary, [Indeed] Allah has chosen you

and purified you and chosen you over [all] the women of the worlds.’” In the equivalent passage

in the Prot. Jas., Mary is first addressed outside her home by a voice saying, “Greetings, you

who are favored! The Lord is with you. You are blessed among women” (PJ 11.1). Later when

she enters her home, the angel of the Lord addresses Mary by saying, “Do not fear, Mary. For

you have found favor before the Master of all. You will conceive a child from his Word” (PJ

11.2). When Mary responds to the annunciation by asking, “Am I to conceive from the living

Lord God and give birth like every other woman?” the angel answers, “Not so, Mary. For the

power of God will overshadow you. Therefore the holy one born from you will be called the

Son of the Highest” (PJ 11.2-3).513 Subsequently, the Temple priest blesses Mary for preparing

the purple and the scarlet of the Temple veil, saying, “Mary, the Lord God has made your name

great; you will be blessed among all the generations of the earth” (PJ 12.1).

The annunciation account of the Prot. Jas. is clearly dependent upon that of Luke’s

Gospel. In the latter account the angel addresses Mary with the words “Greetings, favored one!

The Lord is with you … Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God” (Luke

1.28-29). Subsequently, when Mary visits Elizabeth, the latter greets her with “Blessed are you

among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb” (Luke 1.42). Responding to Elizabeth’s

greeting, Mary sings a song of praise in which she states, “He [God] has looked with favor on

512
Both references differ in their use of the tense. Q 3.42 mentions that the angels informed Mary in the context
of the annunciation that God had “purified” her while using the past tense. Q 3.55 uses the present tense to indicate
the future as it portrays God informing Jesus that he will raise him to himself and purify him from those who
disbelieved.
513
Italics mine.
178
the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed” (Luke

1:48).

The annunciation accounts of Luke and the Prot. Jas. emphasize the special favor that

God bestowed on Mary. They do not explicitly state the supremacy of Mary’s election and

purification “over [all] the women of the worlds” (Q 3.42), but there is no great gap between

favoring Mary in the Prot. Jas. and emphasizing her supremacy in Q 3.42. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s

auxiliary emphasis on Mary’s purity is not surprising, considering the centrality of the theme

in the Prot. Jas.514 The qur’ānic community would have definitely encountered the theme of

the primacy of Mary’s purity over other women in numerous traditions, as it was highlighted

in many late antique Christian sources. Ephrem the Syrian, for example, writes:

Let chaste women praise that pure Mary.

Since in their mother Eve their disgrace was great,

behold in Mary their sister their triumph was magnified.515

As mentioned earlier, the supplication of Mary’s mother for God to be a “refuge for her

[Mary] and her offspring from the accursed Satan” (Q 3.36) could be connected to subsequent

references to the purification of Mary (Q 3.42) and Jesus (Q 3.55). The Tafsīr tradition could

offer insights regarding this point. Thus, as mentioned above, when commenting on the

supplication of Mary’s mother in Q 3.36, al-Ṭabarī introduces a tradition that relates that Mary

is the only female to conceive and give birth while Satan is not in her presence.516 Al-Ṭabarī,

al-Zamakhsharī, and al-Rāzī also introduce various versions of a tradition that states that, at

their birth, all human beings are touched or stabbed by Satan, except for Jesus and his mother.517

Al-Zamakhsharī interprets this tradition to mean that Mary and Jesus were immaculate as

514
For this theme see Vernon Robbins, “Lukan and Johannine Tradition in the Qur’an: A Story of (and Program
for) Auslegungsgeschichte and Wirkungsgeschichte,” in Moving Beyond New Testament Theology? Essays in
Conversation with Heikki Räisänen, ed. Todd Penner and Caroline Stichele (Finnish Exegetical Society,
Göttingen: Vandenhoech & Ruprecht, 2005), 358-9.
515
HNat XXII.23, as translated in McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 183.
516
Ṭabarī 5:342, on Q 3.36.
517
Ṭabarī 5:339-44; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:30, all on Q 3.36.
179
newborns, in the sense that they were safeguarded (ma‘ṣūmayn) from the temptations of

Satan.518 Furthermore, the reference to the “offspring” of Mary in the supplication of her mother

is unanimously understood by the mufassirūn to mean Jesus.519

It is difficult to point out Christian traditions that are parallel to the ones brought forth

by the mufassirūn. However, certain Christian texts do offer a corresponding notion of the

purity of Mary and Jesus. Ephrem thus writes:

Only you [Jesus] and your Mother

are more beautiful than everything.

For on you, O Lord, there is no mark;

Neither is there any stain in your Mother.520

Ephrem’s elevation of Mary’s purity is so prominent that certain scholars have argued that he

introduced the notion of the Immaculate Conception.521

Mary’s Dwelling in the Temple

The reference to Mary’s upbringing in the miḥrāb (Q 3.37) could also be understood as

an implicit indication of her immaculacy or sinlessness. This theme can however be illuminated

only after the examination of the miḥrāb in this specific context. Q 3.37 reveals various points

of correspondence with the Prot. Jas. The verse relates:

So her Lord accepted her [Mary] with good acceptance and made her grow well

and gave her to the guardianship of (kaffalahā) Zechariah. Whenever Zechariah

entered into her [into] the miḥrāb he found with her sustenance. He said: “O

518
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162, on Q 3.36.
519
Muqātil, 1:272; Qummī, 1:109; Ṭabarī 5:339-43; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162, all on Q 3.36.
520
Ephrem the Syrian, Carmina Nisibena XXVII.8, as translated in Luigi Gambero, Mary and the Fathers of the
Church: The Blessed Virgin Mary in Patristic Thought (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 1999), 109-110.
521
See Franz Müller, “Die Unbefleckte Empfängnis Marias in der syrischen und armenischen Überlieferung,”
Scholastik 9 (1934), 161-201; Ignacio Ortiz de Urbina, “Vale el testimonio de San Efrén en favor de la
Inmaculada?” Est. ecl. 28 (1954): 417-422.
180
 Mary! From where is this [sustenance provided] to you?” She said: “It is from

Allah; Allah sustains whom he wills without measure” (Q 3.37).

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān does not mention the delivery of Mary to the Temple but rather

proceeds immediately from depicting the birth of Mary and her naming (Q 3.36) to stating, “so

her Lord accepted her with good acceptance” (Q 3.37). The Prot. Jas. presents a much more

detailed account in this regard. It depicts first the preparations taken by Mary’s parents, who

call “the undefiled daughters of the Hebrews.” Each of them take a torch and set it up so “that

the child not turn back and her heart be taken captive away from the Temple of the Lord” (PJ

7.2). The account relates that:

They [Anna and Joachim] did this, until they had gone up to the Lord’s Temple.

And the priest of the Lord received her and gave her a kiss, blessing her and

saying, “The Lord has made your name great among all generations. Through

you will the Lord reveal his redemption to the sons of Israel at the end of time.

He set her on the third step of the alter, and the Lord God cast his grace down

upon her. She danced on her feet, and the entire house of Israel loved her. …

Mary was in the Temple of the Lord, cared for like a dove, receiving her food

from the hand of an angel (PJ 7.2-8.1).

The portrayal of Mary’s life at the Temple and the particular reference to her being

placed on the steps of the altar indicate to various scholars the authors’ complete ignorance of

Jewish traditions and practices. These scholars emphasize that the priests alone were allowed

to approach the altar of the Temple.522 Other scholars have argued, to the contrary, that these

references might be intended to recall the theological imagery of the Christian ascetic woman

522
See Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament, 49; Oscar Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 423-4. Benko dismisses
any possibility that Mary could have danced on the steps of the altar of the Jewish Temple (PJ 7.3). He explains
this reference in light of the religious services of the Near East, which continued into the period of the early church,
and to which dancing was integral. He thus suggests that the text might be referring to Mary as being filled with
the spirit of joy in God’s presence, in the same way that the female followers of Dionysus, the maenads, or the
worshippers of Cybele burst out in dancing when they felt themselves possessed by the gods. See Benko, The
Virgin Goddess, 201-2.
181
as an “altar of prayer,” or that they could function as a literary motif that serves the work’s

general portrayal of Mary. 523 Notwithstanding, whether the author of this text was aware of

Jewish customs or not, the intention of the text remains the same – to highlight Mary’s

exceptional sanctity.

The correspondence between Q 3.37 and the Prot. Jas. is made evident in view of their

references to Zechariah. The second phrase of Q 3.37 states, “and [her Lord] made her [Mary]

grow well and gave her to the guardianship of (kaffalahā) Zechariah.” The Prot. Jas. does not

mention that Zechariah became Mary’s guardian, but it relates that a certain priest received her

into the Temple and “set her on the third step of the altar” (PJ 7.2-3). Subsequently the text

recounts that when the council of priests decided to remove Mary from the Temple when she

turned twelve years of age, they instructed Zechariah, the chief priest, saying, “You have stood

on the Lord’s altar. Go in and pray about her” (PJ 8.2). This might suggest that the anonymous

priest who accepted Mary into the Temple and set her on the third step of the altar is Zechariah

himself. Furthermore, Zechariah, being entrusted with this mission by the council of priests,

organizes the contest in which Joseph is chosen to become Mary’s guardian. He also convinces

Joseph to accept this task (PJ 8.3-9.3). Subsequently, when Mary’s pregnancy is discovered,

the high priest – who is earlier identified as Zechariah (PJ 8.2) – interrogates Mary and Joseph,

tests them with the “water of refutation,” and finally vindicates them (PJ 15.3-16.3). The Prot.

523
The first point is suggested by Nutzman, who emphasizes that the placing of Mary at the steps of the altar does
not fit the models of the categories of women associated with the Temple in the Second Temple Period. Nutzman
points out in this regard that in the early Church, due to the transformation of the sacred space from the Temple to
the Christian community, prayer came to substitute for sacrifice. In this context, Paul’s reference to the “real
widow” as a woman devoted to prayer (1 Tim 5.5) resulted in the rise of the popular imagery of the widow as an
“altar of prayer” in late antique Christian literature. Though in this context Mary is not a grown woman, Nutzman
suggests that the connection between her ascetic character and the altar might be intended to recall the image of
the Christian widow as an “altar of prayer.” See Nutzman, “Mary in the Protevangelium of James,” 554 and n. 8.
For the theme of the widow as “altar of prayer” in Christian literature see Carolyn Osiek, “The Widow as Altar:
The Rise and Fall of a Symbol,” SecCent 3, no. 3 (1983): 159–69. The second point is suggested by Vuong, who
argues that this theme should be understood from a literary perspective and not in light of accurate Temple
practices. Vuong thus understands this reference to fit within the Prot. Jas.’s general depiction of Mary’s
exceptional purity. She argues that, particularly because women could not live in the Temple or have access to its
altar, the portrayal of Mary as placed at the steps of the alter indicates that she is not an ordinary woman, but rather
exceptionally sanctified. See Vuong, Gender and Purity, 101-2.
182
Jas.’s portrayal of Zechariah’s role as a custodian of Mary explains why Q 3.37 mentions that

God gave Mary to the guardianship of Zechariah.

The sustenance that Mary received, referred to in Q 3.37, clearly corresponds with the

equivalent description in the Prot. Jas. Thus, Q 3.37 relates that “Whenever Zechariah entered

into her [into] the miḥrāb he found with her sustenance.” Zechariah’s surprise, expressed in his

question, “O Mary! From where is this [sustenance provided] to you?,” indicates that he did not

know the sustenance’s sources. Mary’s answer, “it is from Allah; Allah sustains whom he wills

without measure,” affirms the miraculous way in which she receives the sustenance and might

suggest that the sustenance itself is of a miraculous nature also. This reference clearly

corresponds with the one found in the Prot. Jas., which relates that, “Mary was in the Temple

of the Lord, cared for like a dove, receiving her food from the hand of an angel” (PJ 8.1).

Considering this correspondence, it is possible therefore to read the mention of Mary’s life in

the miḥrāb in Q 3.37 as a further indication of her immaculacy.

Both accounts present a very brief reference to Mary’s upbringing. Q 3.37 mentions that

“[her Lord] made her [Mary] grow well,” that she was given to the guardianship of Zechariah,

and that she received sustenance from God. The account then precedes to depict the

annunciation to Zechariah (Q 3.38-41) and the annunciation to Mary (Q 3.42-43, 45-47).

Similarly, after narrating the acceptance of Mary into the Temple and the departure of her

parents (PJ 7.2-8.1), the Prot. Jas. refers to Mary’s upbringing in one sentence, stating that

“Mary was in the Temple of the Lord, cared for like a dove, receiving her food from the hand

of an angel” (PJ 8.1). The text then proceeds to describe the priests’ decision to remove Mary

from the Temple once she turns twelve years of age (PJ 8.2).

The Miḥrāb

The correspondence between Mary receiving her miraculous sustenance while in the

miḥrāb in Q 3.37, and the Prot. Jas.’s statement that Mary was “in the Temple of the Lord”
183
when she received her food “from the hand of an angel” (PJ 8.1) might suggest that the term

miḥrāb is meant to indicate the Temple. Gabriel Reynolds, who points out this correspondence,

presents three additional arguments to support it:524

(1) ḥ. r. m., the semitic root of miḥrāb, indicates something “sanctified” and “forbidden.”

Miḥrāb is also associated with the Ethiopic word meḥrām which means “sanctuary,” “shrine,”

“temple,” or “chapel.”

(2) The term ḥaram, which is etymologically linked with miḥrāb, is used in Islamic law to

indicate an area in which impure people or activities are prohibited. These include the regions

of Mecca and Medina, and also the complex of the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.

(3) Q 19.11 relates that Zechariah came out of the miḥrāb to meet his people after he received

the annunciation concerning the birth of his son John. This verse and its context correspond

with Luke 1.8-22, in which Zechariah is depicted as receiving the annunciation concerning his

son just before he comes out from the Temple to encounter his people.

The points raised by Reynolds are very insightful. However, the theme requires further

illumination. The account of the annunciation to Zechariah found in Q 3.38-41 is more helpful

than the one in Q 19.2-11 for explaining the reference to Mary’s miḥrāb in Q 3.37, at least if

we take Luke’s account as the background. Sūrat Maryam merely mentions that after receiving

the annunciation, Zechariah came out of the miḥrāb (Q 19.11a). The equivalent account of Sūrat

Āl-‘Imrān indicates, however, the place of the annunciation and the speaker. Thus, Q 3.37 refers

to Mary’s acceptance into the Temple, where Zechariah used to visit her in the miḥrāb. Then Q

3.38 mentions that after Zechariah saw the sustenance with which Mary was provided, he

prayed “there (hunālika)” (Q 3.38), in the same miḥrāb. He asked God for offspring, at which

point the angels delivered the annunciation to him:

So the angels called him while he was standing at prayer in the miḥrāb [saying],

524
Reynolds, The Qur’ān and Its Biblical Subtext, 142-143.
184
 “Indeed, Allah gives you glad tidings of John (Yaḥya) believing in a word from

Allah, and a master, and a chaste man, and a prophet from [among] the upright

(Q 3.39).

This account shows a clear correspondence with Luke’s account of the annunciation to

Zechariah:

Once when he [Zechariah] was serving as priest before God and his section was

on duty, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter

the sanctuary of the Lord and offer incense. Now at the time of the incense

offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. Then there

appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of

incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him.

But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been

heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John.

You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be

great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even

before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the

people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will

go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient

to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord”

(Luke 1.8-17).525

This passage emphasizes that Zechariah was chosen by lot to enter the Temple for the specific

task of offering incense (Luke 1.9-10), as the angel of the Lord appeared to him “standing at

the right side of the altar of incense” (Luke 1.11). The altar referred to here is the Altar of

Incense (mizbaḥ ha-ketoret) that stood inside the Tabernacle or the Temple in the Holy Place,

525
Italics mine.
185
before the veil that hid the Ark of the Covenant and separated the Holy Place from the Holy of

Holies (Exod 30.1-6).526

The miḥrāb indicated in the qur’ānic nativity accounts cannot refer to the Altar of

Incense. This is because these accounts mention that Zechariah came out from the miḥrāb (Q

19.11), entered into the miḥrāb (Q 3.37), and prayed inside the miḥrāb (Q 3.39). The miḥrāb

must therefore refer to the Temple or a certain chamber inside it. However, the link between

the miḥrāb and the Altar of Incense is suggested from the correspondence between verses Q

19.11 and Q 3.41 and the reference in Exodus 30.7-8. Thus, Q 19.11 mentions, “So Zechariah

came out to his people from the miḥrāb, then he signaled to them that [they should], ‘praise

[God] in [the] early morning and [the] evening’” (Q 19.11). In Q 3.41, while Zechariah is in the

miḥrāb (Q 3.39), the angels (or God) instruct him saying, “remember your Lord much, and

praise [Him] in the evening and the early morning” (Q 3.41b). This reference to praising God

in the morning and evening corresponds with the instructions found in the book of Exodus

concerning the morning and evening offering of incense on the altar of incense:

You shall make an altar on which to offer incense … Aaron shall offer fragrant

incense on it; every morning when he dresses the lamps he shall offer it, and

when Aaron sets up the lamps in the evening, he shall offer it, a regular incense

offering before the LORD throughout your generations (Exod 30.1, 7-8).

The connection between the miḥrāb and the altar is also indicated by the Prot. Jas.’s reference

to the placing of Mary on the third step of the altar: “He [the priest] set her on the third step of

the altar (τοῦ Θυσιαστηρίου) … Mary was in the Temple of the Lord, cared for like a dove,

receiving her food from the hand of an angel” (PJ, 7.3-8.1). The Greek term Θυσιαστήριον

employed here is used in biblical literature to signify “altar” in general, and it can therefore

refer to both the altar of incense and the altar of burnt offering.527

526
For the Altar of Incense see Richard Averbeck, “ַַ‫מזְבֵּ ח‬,”ַDOTTE,
ִ II: 897 and 902.
527
See Johannes Behm, “θύω, θυσία, θυσιαστήριον,” TDNT, ΙΙΙ: 180-81.
186
 Another hint of a connection between these qur’ānic references to the miḥrāb and the

Altar of Incense might be found in the tafsīr of Muqātil, who mentions in his exposition of Q

3.39 that the angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah while he was praying in the miḥrāb “where

the sacrifice is slain.”528 The altar upon which sacrifices were offered was not the altar of

incense but rather the altar of burnt offering (mizbaḥ ha-ʻolah), which was placed in the outer

court outside the Tabernacle or the Temple (Exodus 27.1-8).529 The possible conflation of the

two altars might result from the fact that both of them are referred to as mizbaḥ in Hebrew,

which corresponds with the Arabic madhbaḥ (‫) َم ْذ َبح‬.

Besides Luke 1.8-22 and the qur’ānic references in Q 3.37-39 and Q 19.2-11, the Prot.

Jas. provides another, probably more significant, indication of the meaning of miḥrāb in Q 3.37.

Thus, the Prot. Jas. relates initially that “Mary was in the Temple of the Lord, cared for like a

dove, receiving her food from the hand of an angel” (PJ 8.1). The account subsequently

specifies twice that Mary was raised in the Holy of Holies. The first reference occurs when

Joseph discovers Mary’s pregnancy after being away from home for months. After mourning

his situation, the text relates:

Joseph rose up from the sackcloth, called Mary, and said to her: … Why have

you humiliated your soul – you who were brought up in the Holy of Holies (ἅγια

τῶν ἁγίων) and received your food from the hand of an angel? (PJ 13.2).

Later, when the high priest discovers Mary’s pregnancy he asks her in a similar manner:

Why have you humiliated your soul and forgotten the Lord your God? You who

were brought up in the Holy of Holies (ἅγια τῶν ἁγίων) and received your food

from the hand of an angel, and heard his hymns, and danced before him – why

have you done this? (PJ 15.3).

528
Muqātil, 1:274, on Q 3.39.
529
For the Altar of Burnt Offering see Averbeck, “ַַ‫מזְבֵּ ח‬,”
ִ 897 and 902.
187
 The Holy of Holies was considered to be the most sanctified area of the Temple, and

the place in which the presence of God dwelt. The high priest alone was allowed to enter into

the Holy of Holies, and only on the Day of Atonement.530 Thus, in a manner similar to the

placing of Mary on the steps of the altar, these references could to a larger extent be understood

as an indication of the author’s total ignorance of Jewish tradition.531 It is possible, however,

that these references were introduced to overemphasize the exceptional sanctity of Mary, which

permitted her dwelling within the Holy of Holies.532

The twice repeated reference, “You who were brought up in the Holy of Holies and

received your food from the hand of an angel” (PJ 13.2, 15.3), corresponds with the earlier

statement, “Mary was in the Temple of the Lord, cared for like a dove, receiving her food from

the hand of an angel” (PJ 8.1). These testimonies correspond in turn with the reference to Mary

in Q 3.37 as receiving her sustenance from God while in the miḥrāb. This parallelism could

ostensibly suggest that the term miḥrāb, as used in Q 3.37, is meant to refer to the Holy of

Holies.

The interpretation of the term miḥrāb, as used in Q 19.11 and Q 3.37, 39, as a reference

to the Holy of Holies finds a certain amount of support in the Tafsīr tradition. Al-Qummī

presents the most positive tradition in this regard. He explains that when Mary matured, she

came into the miḥrāb and let down the curtain over herself. Only Zechariah, who alone used to

enter into the miḥrāb, could see her.533 The other mufassirūn give certain allusions that might

530
George MacRae “Atonement, Day of (Yom Kippur),” NCE, I: 838.
531
See Benko, The Virgin Goddess, 200. Benko claims that the depiction of a woman in such a close association
with the Temple and the priestly functions is not Jewish but rather pagan, and synonymous with the role of
priestesses and other female religious officials in the Greco-Roman religious system, such as the Vestal Virgins in
Rome.
532
See Vuong, Gender and Purity, 101-2. Vuong argues that the portrayal of Mary as being “cared for like a dove,
receiving her food from the hand of an angel” (PJ 8.1) while staying in the Temple, implies the acceptance of Mary
also by God himself. She perceives the equating of Mary with a dove as another indication of the Prot. Jas.’s
representation of Mary as a sacrificial gift, since turtledoves were the only birds allowed to be offered as a sacrifice
in the biblical law. The dove, Vuong notes, is also mentioned in the New Testament Gospels as a reference to the
Holy Spirit, and could thus be used in this context as an indication of Mary’s purity (ibid., 102-3). On this point
see also Smid, Protoevangelium Jacobi, 63-4.
533
Qummī, 1:109, on Q 3.37.
188
also support this reading of miḥrāb. Thus, commenting on Q 3.37, these mufassirūn relate that

Zachariah used to lock Mary behind seven doors,534 and that he built the miḥrāb as an isolated

room inside the Temple which he alone could ascend to with a ladder.535

Muqātil’s statement that Zechariah was the chief of the ’aḥbār, and al-Ṭabarī’s claim

that Zechariah was the best of them (’āfḍalahum), could further support this interpretation of

the miḥrāb as the Holy of Holies.536 Thus, the presentation of the miḥrāb as a secluded chamber

to which the high priest alone had access might suggest that certain mufassirūn were exposed

to a tradition based on the Prot. Jas.’s depiction of Mary as placed in the Holy of Holies.

There are, however, two main obstacles to deducing the meaning of miḥrāb in the

qur’ānic nativity accounts from corresponding references in the Prot. Jas. The first is the

question of whether the original text of the Prot. Jas. did indeed contain any reference to Mary’s

dwelling within the Holy of Holies. The second is the question of which Prot. Jas. tradition, or

which tradition based on the Prot. Jas., do the qur’ānic nativity accounts draw upon. The latter

question is impossible to answer. However, an examination of the first question is helpful for

other aspects of this study.

534
Ṭabarī, 5:356 and 358-9; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162-3; Rāzī, 8:32, all on Q 3.37.
535
Muqātil, 1:273, Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162; Rāzī, 8:32, all on Q 3.37. Muqātil does not explain that only Zechariah
had access to Mary, as he generally states that no one could ascend to the miḥrāb except by a ladder. But he does
emphasize that Zechariah was the one who used to lock the miḥrāb over Mary and that he used to bring her food
and gave her permission to leave the miḥrāb during her menstruation. Furthermore, Muqātil mentions that the
miḥrāb was in the Temple (Bayt al-Maqdis), while al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī mention that it was inside the
masjid (by which they probably also intend to refer to the Temple). For the masjid as a reference to the Temple
see Angelika Neuwirth, “From the Sacred Mosque to the Remote Temple: Sūrat al-Isrāʼ between Text and
Commentary,” in With Reverence for the Word: Medieval Scriptural Exegesis in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam,
ed. Jane McAuliffe et al. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 382-3. Reynolds argues that the Tafsīr traditions
that interpret the term miḥrāb in Q 3.37 as a place in which Mary was kept in isolation and chastity draw upon the
Prot. Jas.’s reference to the small sanctuary that Anna made for her daughter, Mary, in her bedchamber before she
delivered her to the Temple (PJ 6.1). Reynolds also points out that modern scholars such as Arent Wensinck make
the same mistake by understanding the term miḥrāb, as used in Q 3.37, to be alluding to the same small sanctuary
mentioned in the Prot. Jas. See Reynolds, The Qur’ān and Its Biblical Subtext, 141-142; Arent Wensinck and
Penelope Johnstone, “Maryam,” EI2, 6:630b.
536
See Muqātil, 1:272, on Q 3.36; Ṭabarī, 5:349, on Q 3.37.
189
The Possibility of the Absence of a Reference to the Holy of Holies in the Prot. Jas.

Magan Nutzman points out three indications that the two references to Mary’s dwelling

within the Holy of Holies are a later interpolation into the Prot. Jas. account. Firstly, Nutzman

argues that the portrayal of Mary in the Prot. Jas. evokes three categories of Jewish women

from the Second Temple period: women who were accused of adultery, virgins who prepared

the Temple curtains, and female Nazirites. Nutzman, however, finds the depiction of Mary’s

residence within the Holy of Holies not to fit these models, suggesting that it is a later

interpolation.537 Secondly, Nutzman furthermore indicates that the Prot. Jas.’s description of

the acceptance of Mary into the Temple and her dwelling there (PJ 7.3-8.1), her removal to

Joseph’s home (PJ 9.3), and Joseph’s conversation with the midwife (PJ 19.1) do not contain

any mention of the Holy of Holies. Thirdly, Nutzman also explicates that the verbatim

uniformity of both phrases that mention the Holy of Holies (PJ 13.2, 15.3) might suggest that

they represent a later insertion into the text, perhaps taken from a formulaic source such as a

creed or a hymn.538

Christian traditions did associate Mary with the Holy of Holies. Thus, Ephrem the

Syrian refers to Mary as the Holy of Holies in which Christ dwelt:

Blessed is the woman in whose heart

and mind You [Jesus] are. She is the King’s castle

for You, the King’s Son, and [she is] the Holy of Holies

for You, the High Priest. She has neither the anxiety

nor the toil of a household and a husband.539

Similarly, the Akathist hymn contains the following text:

As we sing in honour of your giving birth, we all praise you a living temple

537
See Nutzman, “Mary in the Protevangelium of James,” 551-4.
538
Ibid., 554-5 and n. 8.
539
HNat, XVII.5, as translated in McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 154-5.
190
 Theotokos, the Lord who holds all in his hands dwelt in your womb –

made you holy, made you glorious, and taught us all to cry to you

Hail, tabernacle of God and the Word

Hail, greater than the Holy of Holies.540

This evidence might suggest that the Prot. Jas.’s reference to Mary’s upbringing in the

Holy of Holies was a later insertion. Nevertheless, an alternative view is put forward by George

Zervos in his hypothesis concerning the Genesis Marias. This hypothesis is very speculative,

but it might prove useful for the coming chapters.

The Genesis Marias Hypothesis

George Zervos, in his examination of the Papyrus Bodmer V, was led to believe that the

text contains interpolations indicating that the Prot. Jas. was composed from an earlier

document. Zervos surmised that this source was probably known as the Genesis Marias, since

the Papyrus Bodmer V alone of all the surviving manuscripts of the Prot. Jas. contains the title

“Γένεσις Μαρίας. Αποκάλυψις Ιακώβ.”541 Zervos attempts to reconstruct the annunciation of

the Genesis Marias through the examination of chapters 10-13 of the Prot. Jas. as they are

found in the Papyrus Bodmer V. The relevant arguments for this context relate to the

annunciation account of the Prot. Jas.:

Mary took a pitcher and went out to fetch some water. And behold, she heard a

voice saying, “Greetings, you who are favored! The Lord is with you. You are

blessed among women.” Mary looked around, right and left, to see where the

voice was coming from. She then entered her house frightened and set the pitcher

down. Taking up the purple she sat on her chair (τοῦ θρόνου αὐτῆς) and began

540
The Akathist Hymn, Strophe 23.1-7, as translated in Leena Peltomaa, The Image of the Virgin Mary in the
Akathistos Hymn (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 210-11.
541
George Zervos, “An Early Non-Canonical Annunciation Story,” 664-6.
191
 to draw it out. And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before her and said “Do

not fear, Mary. For you have found favor before the Master of all. You will

conceive a child from his Word.” But when she heard this she asked herself,

“Am I to conceive from the living Lord God and give birth like every other

woman?” The angel of the Lord said to her, “Not so, Mary. For the power of

God will overshadow you. Therefore the holy one born from you will be called

the Son of the Highest. And you will name him Jesus, for he will save his people

from their sins” (PJ 11.1-3).

Zervos confirms a preceding claim made by Smid to the effect that the word θρόνος,

used here in reference to the seat upon which Mary sat before she began spinning the purple of

the Temple veil (PJ 11.1), does not refer to a mere chair but rather to a throne. This befits Mary,

who was of royal descent.542 Zervos, however, argues that in the initial text of the Genesis

Marias, the annunciation took place in the Temple and not at Mary’s home. He therefore

concludes that in the Genesis Marias this “throne” would have been presented as existing within

the Temple, and that it was in fact the “throne of God.” Zervos presents several claims in support

of his argument:

(1) The Prot. Jas.’s portrayal of Mary hearing the “unidentified” voice while sitting on the

“throne” corresponds with the visions found in the books of Isaiah and Ezekiel, where God

speaks to the prophet while God is “sitting on a throne” (Isa 6) or while he is referring to his

“throne” (Ezek 43.6-7).543

(2) The annunciation account of the Papyrus Bodmer V makes use of Luke 1.31b and 1.32a,

while omitting or passing over Luke 1.32b-1.33 (“and the Lord God will give to him the throne

of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there

will be no end”). The omission of this text, which contains a reference to the “throne of David,”

542
See Smid, Protoevangelium Jacobi, 82.
543
Zervos, “An Early Non-Canonical Annunciation Story,” 678-9.
192
might be deliberate. If Mary was sitting on “the throne of God” in the Temple, she would have

contained Jesus within herself, insofar as she conceived him at the time of the annunciation.

This might suggest that the reference to the “throne of David” was excluded in this context

since it would have represented a lowering of rank, if it was mentioned after the portrayal of

Jesus as sitting on the “throne of God” while inside Mary.544

(3) The image of Mary as sitting on the throne of God while carrying Jesus inside her

corresponds with other biblical and apocryphal images:545

(a) A similar image of a man-like figure is associated with the throne of God in the books

of Ezekiel (Ezek 1.26; 8.2; 43.6-7) and Daniel (Dan 7.9-28).

(b) The book of Enoch also portrays the Messiah as sitting on the “throne of Glory” of the

“Lord of Spirits.”546 Furthermore, the Ethiopic translation of 1 Enoch 62.7 is of particular

significance in this regard. Unlike other references to the “Son of Man,” it uses the Ethiopic

phrase walda ‘egwula-’emmaheyyāw, which is literally translated as “offspring of the

mother of the living.” This term is interpreted in certain cases by Ethiopians to mean

“offspring of Eve.”547 This latter reference could have been understood to indicate Mary,

which might suggest a link between this reference in 1 Enoch and the Genesis Marias,

since Mary is compared with Eve in a subsequent section of the Prot. Jas. (PJ 13.1). This

possibility could be supported by the fact that the early church was aware of this imagery

of the Son of Man sitting on his throne and judging the nations, as presented in 1 Enoch 62

– which was reintroduced in Matthew’s Gospel (Matt 25.31).

(4) The image of Mary sitting on the throne of God while carrying Jesus inside her corresponds

with two references in the book of Revelation:548

544
Ibid., 684.
545
Ibid., 685.
546
1 En. 45.3; 51.3; 55.4; 61.8; 62.5; 69.27, 29.
547
Zervos, “An Early Non-Canonical Annunciation Story,” 685; see Ephraim Isaac, trans., “1 (Ethiopic
Apocalypse of) Enoch,” in OTP, vol. 1, 43. n. 62, j.
548
Ibid., 685-6.
193
 (a) The first reference is found in Jesus’ statement to the angel of the church of Laodicea:

“To the one who conquers I will give a place with me on my throne, just as I myself

conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne” (Rev 3.21).

(b) The second, and more significant, correspondence is found in the following paragraph:

A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the

moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant

and was crying out in birth pangs, in the agony of giving birth … And she gave

birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron. But

her child was snatched away and taken to God and to his throne (Rev 12.1-2, 5).

Possible Reference to Mary’s Dwelling in the Holy of Holies in Christian Liturgy

Zervos’ argument, that in the Genesis Marias Mary receives the annunciation while

sitting on the “throne of God” in the Temple, is based on a series of speculations that cannot be

fully confirmed. Nevertheless, the possibility that an earlier version of the Prot. Jas. portrayed

Mary as sitting on the “throne of God” could indicate that Mary was placed in the Holy of

Holies, where the Mercy Seat was located and where God resided. 549 Christian liturgies can

provide an insight in this context.

One of the feasts inspired by the Prot. Jas. is the feast of the Presentation or the Entrance

of the Theotokos. As its name indicates, this feast came to commemorate the dedication of Mary

as a three-year-old child by her parents to the Jerusalem Temple. The feast seems to have

originated in Jerusalem were it was celebrated until it was accepted into the Byzantine liturgy

in the seventh century. The feast was initially associated with the Nea Church, that was given

this name, meaning “new,” to distinguish it from the nearby church designated for the memorial

549
The Mercy Seat was placed over the Ark of the Covenant that was located inside the Holy of Holies. See Exod
25.17-22; 1 Kgs 6.19.
194
of Mary’s nativity.550 The Nea Church probably evoked the Prot. Jas.’s tradition of the

dedication of Mary to the Temple as it was built on its ruins.551 The hymnography of this feast

relies primarily on the Prot. Jas.’s narrative of the Entrance.552 The liturgy of this feast contains

the following text:

When Anne, which means grace, was graced with the pure and ever-virgin Mary,

she presented her to the Temple of God and called all her little companions to

carry flaming torches and walk before her. And she said: “Go, my child, to the

One who sent you to me, for you are promised to Him by vow, you are an incense

of delicate fragrance. Enter into the veiled places and learn the mysteries of God.

Mary, the Temple who contained the Godhead, the Mother of God, the Virgin

most holy, is placed today within the Temple of God. … She is the immaculate

one who is all happiness in the heavenly mansions of the Temple. An angel will

feed her because she is to become the Mother of Christ who grants great mercy

to us all.553

Anna’s command to Mary here to “enter into the veiled places and learn the mysteries

of God,” might indicate Mary’s entrance to the Holy of Holies through the pārōket (‫)פָרֹ כֶת‬, the

veil that separates between the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies.554 In this text Mary is also

described as being fed by an angel after she enters “into the veiled places.” The depiction of

Mary as “the immaculate one” is clearly intended to explain why she is allowed such a dwelling.

550
Calabuig, “The Liturgical Cult of Mary,” 254-5 and n. 94. For the initial celebration of this feast see Jaakko
Olkinuora, Byzantine Hymnography for the Feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos: An Intermedial Approach
(Helsinki: Societas Patristica Fennica, 2015), 34-7.
551
Ibid., 35.
552
Ibid., 25-6. Olkinuora explains that the hymnography of the Entrance came to include texts from other works
besides the Prot. Jas., such as the Life of the Virgin by Epiphanios of Kallistratou. The texts that were read in the
feast at a more developed stage do not refer solely to the dedication of Mary to the Temple, but rather to her life
in general.
553
Joseph Raya and José De Vinck, Byzantine Daily Worship: With Byzantine Breviary, the Three Liturgies,
Propers of the Day and Various Offices (Allendale, NJ: Alleluia Press, 1969), 518-9. Italics mine.
554
The Prot. Jas. clearly indicates the pārōket when referring to the Temple veil. See pages 241-2.
195
Mary is not inferior to the Holy of Holies, for she herself is “the Temple who contained the

Godhead, the Mother of God, the Virgin most holy.” Although it is not clear in this text whether

Mary is placed in the Temple or the Holy of Holies, the correspondence with Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

reveals, nevertheless, that the sūra could have drawn upon various traditions based on the Prot.

Jas.

The Linguistic Origins of Miḥrāb

The correspondence between the qur’ānic references to miḥrāb (Q 19.11, Q 3.37 and Q

3.39) and the equivalent passages from Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. does not elucidate the

specific meaning of the term. Miḥrāb seems to be used in these qur’ānic texts as a general

reference to the Temple or a more specific reference to the Temple’s inner sanctuary or even

the Holy of Holies. The vagueness of the term could be explained by an exposition of its

linguistic origins.

The lack of clarity concerning the miḥrāb in the qur’ānic nativity accounts seems to

emerge from the multiplicity of meanings that the origins of the term signify. As indicated

above, scholars who hold to an Ethiopic origin of the term argue that miḥrāb could have been

borrowed into Arabic from the Ethiopic words mekuerāb and meḥram directly, or through South

Arabian.555 The term mekuerāb was used by Ethiopic authors as a rendition of the term ναός

from Greek Evangelical texts.556 Ναός is used in the New Testament books to indicate both the

555
Estelle Whelan, “The Origins of the Miḥrāb Mujawwaf: A Reinterpretation,” IJMES 18 (1986): 206; Nuha
Khoury, “The Mihrab: From Text to Form,” IJMES 30 (1998): 5. Troupeau reintroduced the theory of the Ethiopic
origins of the miḥrāb, after it was rejected by Praetorius and Nöldeke decades before as implausible historically
and philologically. See Gérard Troupeau, “Le mot miḥrâb chez les lexicographes arabes,” in Le Miḥrāb: Dans
L’Architecture et la Religion Musulmanes: Actes du Colloque International tenu à Paris en Mai 1980, ed.
Alexandre Papadopoulo (Leiden, Brill, 1988), 60-64; Franz Praetorius, “Äthiopische Etymologien,” ZDMG 61
(1907), 621-2; Theodor Nöldeke, Neue Beiträge zur Semitischen Sprachwissenschaft (Strassburg: Trübner, 1910),
52, n. 3. Troupeau argues that since Ethiopic does not contain the root ḥ. r. b., the Arabic miḥrāb should have
emerged from the Arabic maḥrām, meaning sacred space (as the “m” is replaced with “b”), taken from the Ethiopic
meḥrām (from the Ethiopic root ḥ. r. m.). See Troupeau, op. cit., 63.
556
See Whelan, op. cit., 206; Jean Sauvaget, La Mosquée omeyyade de Médine. Étude sur les origines
architecturales de la Mosquée et de la Basilique (Paris: Vanoest, 1947), 145, n. 6.
196
Temple and its sanctuary.557 This twofold meaning of ναός could explain why the miḥrāb in the

qur’ānic verses above might indicate both the Temple and the sanctuary. This could further

explain why the mufassirūn also give miḥrāb both the general meaning of Temple and the more

specific meaning of a venerated place within the Temple.558

The term miḥrāb is also associated with prayer in Arabic and South Arabian. Literary

evidence reveals that in the seventh century, the term miḥrāb already referred in Muslim Arabic

literature to a columned bay, and that it also indicated the centers for the administration of

justice and official business, as well as the place from which the imams led prayers.559 This last

meaning of miḥrāb as a place of prayer is further suggested in South Arabian inscriptions from

the fourth through fifth centuries in which Mḥrb refers to a “chamber”;560 and mḏqnt, which

displays a similar form, indicates a place of prayer.561 These significations of miḥrāb can

explain why the Qur’ān uses this term in reference to Zechariah’s prayer in the miḥrāb (Q

3.39).562

Scholars who investigate the use of miḥrāb in Arabic poetry dating to the pre-Islamic

and early Islamic periods suggest that it can also signify “the part of the palace in which the

557
It has been argued that the New Testament uses ναός, ἱερόν and ἅγιον without much distinction between their
meanings or range. See Otto Michel, “ναός,” TDNT 4:882–90. However, the authors of the Gospels in certain
cases use τὸ ἱερόν in general reference to the Temple or the whole complex of the Temple buildings, as opposed
to ναός, which is used more specifically for the Holy of Holies and the Holy Place, as in Luke 1.9, 23.45. See Ian
Marshall, The Gospel of Luke: A Commentary on the Greek Text (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978), 54; John
Nolland, Luke 1-9:20, WBC 35A (Dallas: Word Books, 1989), 28. The Gospel of Matthew seems to apply ναός
to the Temple, Holy Place, and the Holy of Holies, all of which are found within the precincts the general complex,
the ἱερόν. See Daniel Gurtner, The Torn Veil: Matthew’s Exposition of the Death of Jesus (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2007), 101-2.
558
For the interpretation of miḥrāb as Temple see Muqātil, 2:622, on Q 19.11; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162, on Q 3.37.
For its interpretation as a specific place within the Temple see Ṭabarī, 5:358; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:162, both on Q
3.37. Al-Ṭabarī mentions that miḥrāb refers to the most noble seat in any assembly (majlis), or oratory (maṣla), or
even any temple (masjid). Al-Zamakhsharī emphasizes that it is the most noble place in the Temple (Bayt al-
Maqdis).
559
Whelan, op. cit., 209-211.
560
Brian Doe and Albert Jamme, “New Sabean Inscriptions from South Arabia,” JRAS 88, no. 1/2 (1968): 13-14.
561
Maḥmud Ghūl, “Was the Ancient South Arabian Mḏqnt the Islamic Miḥrāb?” BSOAS 25, no. 2 (1962): 331-
35.
562
The corresponding passage in Luke 1 does not mention that Zechariah entered the sanctuary in order to pray
but rather in order to offer incense (Luke 1.9-11). The text does however mention that the angel informed Zechariah
that his prayer was heard (Luke 1.13). The Arabic and South Arabian significations of miḥrāb could also explain
why, in their exposition of Q 19.11, al-Ṭabarī includes “oratory” (maṣla) as one of the main meanings of miḥrāb,
and al-Rāzī explains it as “a location in which he [Zechariah] used to isolate himself for prayer and worship.” See
Ṭabarī, 5:358, on Q 3.37, Ṭabarī 15:470-471; Rāzī 21:191, both on Q 19.11.
197
ruler stood or sat, a niche for an image, a raised place for a musk or incense, a colonnaded

platform, and the part of house reserved for women.”563 Some of these significations overlap

with certain meanings suggested in earlier paragraphs. However, the definition of miḥrāb

offered here as “the part of house reserved for women” can explain the use of miḥrāb in Q 3.37

for the place in which Mary was kept, where Zechariah used to visit her. It can also explain the

mufassirūn’s interpretation of the term in Q 3.37 as referring, among other things, to the isolated

chamber that Zechariah built for Mary within the Temple (Bayt al-Maqdis).564

This evidence indicates that miḥrāb has a wide spectrum of meanings. These multi-

layered meanings could explain why the Qur’ān employs it in its nativity accounts for Mary’s

dwelling place (Q 3.37), the place in which Zechariah supplicates God for a child (Q 19.3-6,

3.38), and the place where Mary receives the annunciation (Q 19.11, 3.39). The broad range of

meanings for miḥrāb in early Islamic tradition is further demonstrated by the naming of the

Tower of David – a tower that functioned under the pre-Islamic Christian rule of Jerusalem as

a minor sanctuary, an oratory, and a fortress – by the Muslims as miḥrāb Dāwūd, or David’s

miḥrāb, identifying it with the reference in Q 38.21.565

The Contest Over Mary’s Guardian

Q 3.44 refers to a contest for choosing Mary’s guardian:

563
Whelan, op. cit., 206. Whelan is summarizing here the conclusions of Josef Horovitz, “Bemerkungen zur
Geschichte und Terminologie des islamischen Kultus,” DI 16 (1927): 261-262; and Robert Serjeant, “Miḥrāb,”
BSOAS 22, no. 3 (1959): 439-441. However, the morphological and semantic complexity of the word miḥrāb led
medieval linguists, who still insisted on the Arabic origins of the word, to omit it from lists of nouns referring to
places or instruments, and to classify it in the gharīb (foreign) list of words with unusual structures. This linguistic
complexity led modern philologists, on the contrary, to dismiss the Arabic origin of the word and to suggest instead
Syriac, Hebrew, Ethiopic, or Pahlavi origins from which the word migrated into Arabic. See Khoury, “The
Mihrab,” 4.
564
Muqātil 1:273; Ṭabarī, 5:356; Zamakhsharī, 1-2: 162-3; Rāzī 8:31, all on Q 3.37.
565
Heribert Busse, “The Tower of David/Miḥrāb Dāwūd: Remarks on the History of a Sanctuary in Jerusalem in
Christian and Islamic Times,” JSAI 17 (1994): 150-156. Certain South Arabian inscriptions contain the construct
dhmḥrb/mlkn, which was translated to mean “palace/royal-court” while retaining the general meaning of a “feature
of a building.” See Serjeant, “Mihrab,” 442. The word mḥrb itself was interpreted as “fortress” in one of these
inscriptions. See Khoury, “The Mihrab,” 5-6; SD, 69. The meanings of “palace” and “fortress” are irrelevant to
the miḥrāb as used in the qur’anic nativity accounts. These meanings, however, correspond with the use of miḥrāb
in Q 34.13 and Q 38.21.
198
 And you were not [present] with them while [they were] throwing their reeds

(’aqlām) [that they might know] which of them [would] be the guardian of

(yakfulu) Mary, nor were you [present] with them when [they were] quarrelling.

As explicated above, this passage is used in the Tafsīr tradition to interpret the reference to

Mary being given “to the guardianship of (kaffalahā) Zechariah” in Q 3.37. The use of the

verbal root k. f. l. (.‫ ل‬.‫ ف‬.‫ )ك‬in both verses explains why they are connected exegetically. The

mufassirūn therefore conclude that the guardian in both cases is the same person, Zechariah.

However, as various scholars have already indicated, Q 3.44 seems to correspond with

the contest presented in the Prot. Jas., when Joseph is chosen to be Mary’s guardian.566 The

Prot. Jas. relates that when Mary turned twelve years old, the Temple priests held a council to

discuss her removal from Temple lest she defile the sanctuary. They asked Zechariah, the chief

priest, to pray concerning this matter (PJ 8.2). As Zechariah prayed in the Holy of Holies, God

instructed him to “gather the widowers of the people, and have each of them bring a rod” (PJ

8.3). The account subsequently relates:

Joseph cast aside his carpenter’s axe and went to their meeting. When they had

gathered together they went to the priest, bringing their rods (τὰς ῥάβδους).

When he had received the rods from them he went into the Temple and prayed.

When he finished his prayer, he took the rods, went outside, and gave them back.

And no sign appeared among them. But Joseph took the last rod, and behold! A

dove came out of the rod (ἀπὸ τῆς ῥάβδου) and flew onto Joseph’s head. The

priest said to Joseph, “You have been chosen to take the Lord’s virgin into your

safekeeping” (PJ 9.1).

The clearest correspondence between this account and Q 3.44 is their mention of casting

lots to decide who should become Mary’s guardian. The texts also contain clear differences.

566
Mourad, “On the Qur’anic Stories,” 18-19; see also Horn, “Intersections,” 141.
199
The first of these is the absence of a reference to Joseph in Q 3.44. However, as Mourad argues,

the absence of Joseph in this context – and in all of the Qur’ān – seems to indicate the qur’ānic

community’s desire to reinforce Mary’s chastity and to evade any suspicion of Jesus having a

human father.567

Another significant difference between the texts is that while the Prot. Jas. mentions

that rods (ράβδοι) were used for choosing Mary’s guardian, Q 3.44 mentions reeds (’aqlām)

instead. The word qalam, meaning pen or reed, is used elsewhere in the Qur’ān as well – in its

singular form in Q 68.1 and 96.4, and in the plural in Q 31.27. Jeffery argues that in all the

qur’ānic references besides Q 3.44, qalam or its plural ’aqlām are used to indicate reeds.

However, reading Q 3.44 in light of the contest narrated in the Prot. Jas. (PJ 9.1), Jeffery

contends that this is the only reference in the Qur’ān in which the word ’aqlām indicates “reeds”

instead, as it refers to the reeds that were used to determine who would become Mary’s

guardian.568 Jeffery supports this claim by pointing out that the Arabic word qalam is derived

from the Greek word κάλαμος, which could mean a reed or a reed pen. Jeffery further explains

that though the word was borrowed into Aramaic and Syriac (‫)ܩܠܡܐ‬, it was mediated into Arabic

through Ethiopic.569

Jeffrey’s argument is plausible, as the etymological and phonetic correlation between

the Arabic qalam and the Greek κάλαμος help him explain why Q 3.44 (which clearly

corresponds with PJ 9.1) uses ’aqlām for the means of choosing Mary’s guardian. Reynolds

offers the alternative suggestion that κάλαμος was mediated to this qur’ānic text through the

Syriac qalmā.570 These suggestions are insightful, and the mediation of the Greek κάλαμος into

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān through Syriac or maybe even Ethiopic is possible. Nevertheless, the move

567
Mourad, op. cit., 19. Mourad claims that any reference to Mary’s husband in the context of the Arabian audience
of the Qur’ān would have definitely undermined this endeavor.
568
FV, 242.
569
Ibid., 243. Jeffery here adopts Nöldeke’s claim concerning the mediation of qalām into Arabic through Ethiopic.
See Nöldeke, Neue Beiträge, 50. For qalam in Ge‘ez see
570
Reynolds, The Qur’ān and its Biblical Subtext, 143 and n. 477. For the meaning of qalmā in Syriac see TSyr.,
vol. II: 3635.
200
from the Greek ράβδος (rod) used in the Prot. Jas. to κάλαμος (reed or reed pen) remains

unexplained. The main connection between both words is their overlapping signification. Thus,

ράβδος could mean a rod, staff, or shaft of a spear;571 while κάλαμος could signify a reed, rod,

staff, pen, or shaft of an arrow.572 This overlap of significations might explain how ράβδος and

κάλαμος could have been used interchangeably.

The Tafsīr tradition could offer insight regarding Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s choice to use

’aqlām. The main tradition relating the contest among the Temple priests (the aḥbār) is already

present in the eighth-century tafsīr of Muqātil.573 This might suggest that the early qur’ānic

community, including the author of this section of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, intended to present the

contest as taking place between the aḥbār. Such a view is consistent with the sūra’s intention

to eliminate any reference to Joseph. In this case ’aqlām would be a suitable choice, since the

main tool of these aḥbār would have been their reeds. It is nevertheless interesting to note that

among the various traditions that al-Ṭabarī lists in his exposition of Q 3.37, some relate that the

aḥbār cast lots with their rods or sticks, other with their reeds, and yet others with their

arrows.574 This might indicate that he was aware of certain Prot. Jas. traditions that used other

meanings of ράβδος and κάλαμος.

571
LSJ, 1562.
572
LSJ, 865-6.
573
Muqātil, 1:272-3, on Q 3.36.
574
See Ṭabarī, 5:345-53, on Q 3.37.
201
Conclusion

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān highlights the uniqueness of Mary by presenting her birth as the

teleological fulfillment of sacred history and by portraying her unique upbringing and God’s

special care for her. The parallels between Mary’s nativity and upbringing in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

and in the Prot. Jas. are striking, and they do not leave much space to doubt that this sūra draws

upon the Prot. Jas. or Christian traditions dependent on it. Here we see the initial association

of Mary with the Temple, an association that will accompany the qur’ānic nativity accounts.

The intention of the qur’ānic author remains vague in certain cases, as it is difficult to

explain the specific meaning of many themes and concepts in the text. This might suggest the

qur’ānic community’s interaction with other traditions, besides that of the Prot. Jas., in this

context. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s integration of elements from the Lukan tradition is evident. This

examination further indicates the mediation of certain themes from the Prot. Jas. tradition

through Christian liturgy and other Mariological themes through Syriac hymns.

Notwithstanding the possible influence of these sources, the idiosyncratic nature of Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān’s depiction of Mary’s birth and upbringing demonstrates the intention of the qur’ānic

community to introduce its unique version and interpretation of these themes, one which would

be congruent with its theology and culture.

The importance of the Tafsīr literature for this study is revealed again in this

examination. The mufassirūn demonstrate knowledge of various traditions that are based upon

the Prot. Jas. account. They also offer valuable insights into the qur’ānic text and its obscure

terms.

202
 Chapter Four

Mary’s Withdrawal from Her People

In the previous chapter, I demonstrated the profound correspondence between the Prot.

Jas.’s portrayal of Mary’s birth and upbringing and Q 3.35-37 from Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, while

suggesting the influence of other Christian, and particularly liturgical, late antique traditions.

In this present chapter, I will focus on the more specific themes of Sūrat Maryam’s depiction

of Mary’s withdrawal from her people to an “eastern place” (Q 19.16) and her use of a veil to

conceal herself from them (Q 19.17). In the first section I discuss Mary’s withdrawal and

concealment within its larger context, exploring the main literary motifs that Sūrat Maryam

applies to produce its unique version of the withdrawal. In the second section I discuss the

expositions of the mufassirūn that focus particularly on reasons for Mary’s withdrawal from

her people, the place to which she withdrew, the nature of the ḥijāb she used and its purpose.

This section will also demonstrate the correspondence between certain traditions found in the

Tafsīr literature and implicit hints in the account of the Prot. Jas.

In the third section I examine Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of Mary’s withdrawal to an

eastern place and her use of the veil in light of late antique traditions in two parts. The first part

will firstly discuss Mary’s withdrawal in relation to the notion of shame which the Prot. Jas.

associates with Mary’s pregnancy and which Sūrat Maryam indicates in its depiction of Mary’s

pregnancy and delivery of Jesus. This part will secondly endeavor to explain the particular

reference to an “eastern place” in light of Christian homilies and liturgical works, and also in

light of the general perception of the East as a sacred point of orientation or as the direction of

prayer in Christian traditions and in Judaism. This part will finally examine the possibility that

the East was taken as a qibla at a certain period by the early Muslim community. The second

part will firstly examine the specific correspondence between Mary’s veil in Q 19.17 and

congruent account in the Prot. Jas. This part will secondly demonstrate the prominence of

203
veiling terminology in ecclesiastical literature, particularly in relation to Mary, offering insight

into the possibility this imagery could have been mediated to the qur’ānic community through

other traditions.

The Qurānic Text

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān portrays the angels as addressing Mary directly (Q 3.42, 45) without

making any reference to the setting of the annunciation. Sūrat Maryam, however, begins its

nativity account by portraying Mary as withdrawing away from her people:

(Q 19.16) And mention in the Scripture [the story of] Mary as she withdrew

from her people to an eastern place.

.‫اًن اش ْرقِيًّا‬
ً ‫ت ِم ْن أ ْاهلِ اها ام اك‬ ِ ِ ‫واذْ ُكر ِِف الْ ِكتا‬
ْ ‫اب ام ْراَيا إِذ انْتا با اذ‬ ْ ‫ا‬
(Q 19.17) And [she] took a veil (ḥijāb) apart from them, then We sent to her Our

Spirit who was manifested to her as a flawless human being.

.‫َّل اَلاا با اشًرا اس ِوًَّي‬ ِ ِ ِِ ِ ْ ‫فا َّاَّتا اذ‬

‫وحناا فاتا امث ا‬
‫ فاأ ْار اس ْلناا إلاْي اها ُر ا‬.‫ت م ْن ُدوِن ْم ح اج ًاًب‬
Literary Motifs

The depiction of Mary as withdrawing away from her people and concealing herself

from them through a veil in the context of the annunciation is unique to Sūrat Maryam. Neither

the Prot. Jas. nor any of the canonical Gospels present such an image in this context.

Furthermore, Sūrat Maryam introduces Mary’s withdrawal in a seemingly illogical or

disorderly way by presenting it as taking place before Mary receives the annunciation, and

therefore also before she becomes pregnant and gives birth to Jesus – things that would have

driven her, as a single woman, to depart from her society. This idiosyncratic portrait of Mary

can be partially explained in light of Sūrat Maryam’s interaction with the Prot. Jas. as the

discussion below will illustrate. This unique depiction of Mary is furthermore illuminated by

the unveiling of the literary motifs that the sūra employs.

204
 Sūrat Maryam’s nativity account applies various techniques of repetition that were

originally meant to reinforce key concepts and events in the mind of the audience throughout

the oral performance of the passage. These repetitions reassert past themes and foreshadow

future events.575 The first of these techniques of repetition that can be identified here is the

sequence of actions which is a common pattern in oral traditions. Usually it appears in the form

of three or four consecutive repetitions that demonstrate an intensification from one action or

event to the following usually concluding in an apex or a reversal. 576 This account relates first

that Mary “withdrew (’intabadhat) from her people to an eastern place (makānan sharqiyya)”

(Q 19.16) and then immediately mentions that she “took a veil (ḥijāb) apart from them” (Q

19.17). The first action of withdrawal is followed here by a second, more intensified, action of

concealment. Mary does not merely separate herself from her people physically, but she also

conceals herself from them through a veil. The account, subsequently, further escalates Mary’s

separation from her people by relating that after she conceived Jesus “she withdrew

(’intabadhat) with him” again, this time “to a remote place (makānan qaṣṣiyya)” (Q 19.22).

This triad sequence of withdrawal, concealment, and withdrawal is concluded with a reversal

as “she [Mary] came with him [Jesus] to her people (qawmahā) carrying him” (Q 19.27).

The word “withdrew” (’intabadhat), used twice in this account (Q 19.16, 22), and its

antonym “came” (’atat) (Q 19.27), are its Leitwörter. Withdrawal is the principal motif that

stands at the crux of the account. The recurring action of withdrawal is employed by the sūra to

provide coherence to the account and to initiate symbolism as it defines Mary’s character as a

“withdrawing figure.” The main theme revealed here, which comprises an integral part of the

account’s moral and theological value-system, is clearly that of “separation.”577

575
Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative, 114-5.
576
Ibid., 120.
577
For Alter’s definition of the function of leitwort and motif and theme in an account, see ibid.
205
 This structure of withdrawal and return, applied here by Sūrat Maryam, emerges from

the common model of qur’ānic typology. As the second chapter has illustrated, the Qur’ān

recasts prophetic figures in light of Muḥammad’s experience of rejection by his people and his

subsequent return to them. Mary’s withdrawal from her people and her return to them indicates

a certain correspondence with this model. Thus, in a manner similar to Muḥammad, Mary

receives a revelation from a divine messenger while away from her people (Q 19.17b-19.21).

Like Muḥammad, Mary is also falsely accused by her people (Q 19.27-28). The main way in

which Mary differs from Muḥammad, and from the rest of the characters that the Qur’ān recasts

in its typological model, is in that she was not sent by God to her people with a message and

was consequently rejected by them.578 The reason for Mary’s first withdrawal remains, rather,

unstated. Nevertheless, it is possible to argue that by depicting her return to her people Sūrat

Maryam is actually portraying Mary as a messenger who goes to her people with a message –

the divine signs of her childbearing while a virgin and the newborn Jesus who speaks while

infant (Q 19.30-33) and who also delivers a divine message to them (Q 19.36).

Expositions of the Mufassirūn

The mufassirūn discuss the following themes in their exposition of Q 19.16-17a: the

place to which Mary withdrew, the reasons behind her withdrawal, the relationship between her

withdrawal and the Christian qibla, and her use of the ḥijāb. This section will further discuss

the evident, and also the possible, correspondences between the Tafsīr literature and the Prot.

Jas.

578
Marshall, “Christianity in the Qur’ān,” 5-6.
206
The Place to Which Mary Withdrew and Reasons behind Her Withdrawal

Al-Ṭabarī, alone of the mufassirūn used in this research, comments on the phrase

“mention in the Scripture” (Q 19.16), interpreting it as a command to Muḥammad to write in

the Qur’ān (“the Scripture of Allah”) what God sent down upon him concerning Mary.579

Muqātil and al-Qummī make brief remarks on Mary’s withdrawal. Muqātil explains that Mary

sat in the mashraqah because it was wintertime.580 Al-Qummī, probably referring to Q 19.23,

explains that Mary withdrew to the dry palm tree.581

Al-Ṭabarī, al-Zamakhsharī, and al-Rāzī present a few similar traditions in their

expositions of this theme, without offering any judgment as to which of them is more accurate.

Al-Ṭabarī and al-Rāzī begin their exposition of Mary’s withdrawal by saying that Mary isolated

and separated herself from her family. Both comment on the verb ’intabadha (Q 19.16),

explaining that it refers to the rejection and throwing away of something.582 Al-Zamakhsharī

and al-Rāzī present a tradition according to which Mary sought this isolation in order to pray

without distraction.583 Both these mufassirūn and Al-Ṭabarī present another tradition according

to which Mary’s withdrawal was due to her menstruation. Al-Ṭabarī explains in this regard that

Mary withdrew into the eastern side of the miḥrāb (sharqiyya al-miḥrābi) because her

menstruation began.584

Concerning this theme al-Zamakhsharī relates that, according to a certain tradition,

Mary sat in a high place (mashrafah) to wash herself after her menstrual cycle. Al-Zamakhsharī

does not identify the location of the mashrafah. He merely mentions that Mary was in the place

of worship (al-masjid), and that when she experienced her menstrual cycle she went to her

579
Ṭabarī 15:482, on Q 19.16.
580
Muqātil, 2:623, on Q 19.16. It is difficult to tell if Muqātil meant mashruqah, mashraqah, or mashriqah, because
his text does not contain short vowels. Nevertheless, all the vowellings of the word indicate a place in which or
over which the sun sets or shines, especially during the winter. For this meaning of mashraqah see Lisān, vol. 7,
94-5.
581
Qummī, 2:23, on Q 19.16.
582
Ṭabarī, 15:482-3; Rāzī, 21:197, both on Q 19.16.
583
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:678; Rāzī, 21:197, both on Q 19.16.
584
Ṭabarī 15:483, on Q 19.16.
207
aunt’s home to wash herself. Then, when she was purified, she went back to al-masjid.585 Al-

Rāzī points out two explanations given by the mufassirūn that are related to this theme. The

first of these mentions that when Mary was aware of her menstrual cycle, she went away from

her usual place of prayer so that she would be purified and could go back to her place. The

second explanation is that Mary sat in a mashraqah to wash herself after menstruation.586

Other Independent Traditions

Al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī present a peculiar tradition which relates that Mary was at

the home of Zechariah, her aunt’s husband, where she lived in a separated miḥrāb, and that

Zechariah used to lock Mary behind the door when he left. However, when Mary wished to find

seclusion in the mountain to delouse her head, the roof of the home exploded (infagara), and

she went out and sat in a high place (mashrafah) behind the mountain.587 The only novel

explanation that is unique to al-Rāzī is a tradition which states that Mary went to the wilderness

because she was thirsty. He also adds that all the explications are plausible and that the

revelation (al-lafẓ) does not include any indication that any of them outweighs the rest.588

Mary’s Withdrawal and the Christian Qiblah

Commenting on the reference to the “eastern place” (Q 19.16), al-Ṭabarī presents two

main sets of traditions. As mentioned above, one tradition states that Mary went to sharqiyya

al-miḥrābi, which could mean a place that is in the eastern side of the miḥrāb or a place that is

to the east of the miḥrāb.589 Al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī present a similar tradition which

585
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:678, on Q 19.16.
586
Rāzī, 21:197, on Q 19.16.
587
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:678; Rāzī, 21:197, both on Q 19.16.
588
Rāzī, 21:197, on Q 19.16.
589
Ṭabarī, 15:483, on Q 19.16.
208
relates that Mary withdrew to a place that “lies to the east of the Temple (mima yalī sharqiyya

Bayt al-Maqdis),” or to the east of her home.590

Another set of traditions in al-Ṭabarī mentions that Mary went to a place that faces the

sunrise (mashriq al-shams).591 One of these traditions emphasizes that, according to Christians,

this orientation is better than the West (al-maghrib).592 Another important tradition which al-

Ṭabarī shares with al-Zamakhsharī and al-Rāzī states that the Christians (al-Naṣāra) chose the

East as their qibla because Mary withdrew to an “eastern place.”593

Mary’s Use of the Ḥijāb

All the mufassirūn consulted for this study emphasize that Mary employed the ḥijāb in

order to conceal herself from her people. They differ, however, in their explication of what the

ḥijāb actually was. Their expositions of the term can be categorized into three main themes:

spiritual sanctuary, natural phenomenon, and physical barrier.

Al-Qummī mentions that the ḥijāb was Mary’s miḥrāb, in which she concealed herself

from her people.594 Al-Ṭabarī, in one of the four traditions that he relates in this context, simply

explains ḥijāb to mean a cover (sitr) that concealed Mary. In another tradition al-Ṭabarī explains

that the term ḥijāb here refers to walls.595 Al-Zamakhsharī also presents a similar tradition

which states that Mary was veiled (muḥtajibah) through a wall or a “thing” (shay’) while

washing herself from her menstrual cycle after she left the Temple and went to her aunt’s

home.596 Al-Rāzī emphasizes that though Mary separated and isolated herself from her people,

she also veiled herself from them through a physical ḥijāb which could have been a wall, a

590
Ṭabarī, 15:482-4; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:678; Rāzī, 21:196-7, all on Q 19.16.
591
Ṭabarī, 15:483-5, on Q 19.16.
592
Ṭabarī, 15:484-5, on Q 19.16.
593
Ṭabarī, 15:484; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:678; Rāzī, 21:197, all on Q 19.16. Al-Ṭabarī and al-Rāzī add that Christians
chose the East as their qibla because it is the place of Jesus’ birth.
594
Qummī, 2:23, on Q 19.17.
595
Ṭabarī, 15:485, on Q 19.17.
596
Zamakhsharī, 2:678, on Q 19.17.
209
curtain, or any other form of veil. He further explains that Mary veiled herself for a proper

reason (gharaḍ ṣaḥīḥ) that is not mentioned, and that the mufassirūn disagree about this

reason.597

Muqātil explains that the ḥijāb referred to here is a mountain that veiled Mary as she

“placed” it between herself and her people, preventing them from seeing her. 598 Al-

Zamakhsharī also mentions a second tradition, according to which Mary sat behind a mountain

when she wanted to delouse her hair.599 Al-Ṭabarī presents two traditions which relate that God

shadowed Mary with the sun (’āẓallaha bil-shams) and made the sun a ḥijāb for her so that

none of her people could see her.600

The Correspondence between the Tafsīr Literature and the Prot. Jas.

The Prot. Jas. refers briefly to Mary’s dwelling within the Holy of Holies and her being

fed by an angel (PJ 8.1, 13.2, 15.3). The account does not, however, provide any description of

Mary’s upbringing. It rather moves directly from the depiction of Mary’s acceptance into the

Temple (PJ 7.2-8.1) to narrating that “when she [Mary] reached her twelfth birthday, the priests

held a council” to discuss what to do with her “to keep her from defiling the sanctuary (μιαίνῃ

τὸ ἁγίασμα)” (PJ 8.2). The scene is meant to portray urgency, as the whole council of priests

assembles to discuss how to deal with the new challenge resulting from Mary’s turning twelve

years of age. The gravity of the situation is further emphasized by the fact that the priests cannot

solve the situation. They ask Zechariah, the chief priest, to pray and seek a revelation from God

concerning this matter (PJ 8.2).

597
Rāzī, 21:197, on Q 19.17.
598
Muqātil, 2:623, on Q 19.17. Muqātil explains that the term ḥijāb in this context carries the same meaning as
ḥijāb in Sūrat Sad (Q 38.32b), which he understands as a mountain that conceals the sun.
599
Zamakhsharī, 2:678, on Q 19.17. Al-Zamakhsharī does not state that the mountain is the ḥijāb referred to in Q
19.17, though he clearly implies this.
600
Ṭabarī, 15:485, on Q 19.17.
210
 As already explicated in the introduction, it is difficult to determine whether the author

of the Prot. Jas. was from Jewish or pagan origins.601 The work reflects the influence of both

Jewish and pagan Greco-Roman religious and cultural traditions. Nevertheless, regardless of

the author’s background, Jewish and Greco-Roman traditions both reveal that his intention in

this specific passage (PJ 8.2) is to convey that the priests insisted on Mary’s removal from the

sanctuary because they were afraid that, once her puberty began, the blood of her mensuration

would defile the sanctuary.

This is firstly implied in the account’s references to Mary’s turning twelve, an age in

which her menstrual cycle is expected to begin. The Mishnah and the Roman law both refer to

the age of twelve as a turning point regarding female sexual maturity. The Mishnah particularly

defines this age as a stage of transition in which the girl ceases to be a minor and becomes a

pubescent girl (naarath).602 The Roman law also, throughout all the different periods,

recognizes the age of twelve as the female’s age of adolescence.603

The reading is further indicated in the account’s use of the term “defile” (μιαίνω) in

juxtaposition to the Temple or its sanctuary (ἁγίασμα) in this context (PJ 8.2). The account’s

succeeding reference to the “undefiled virgins (παρθένοι ἀμίαντοι)” (PJ 10.1) sheds light on

this theme. In this context, the priests hold another council in which they decide that they should

make a veil for the Temple. One of them proclaims, “Call to me the undefiled virgins from the

tribe of David” and the servants search and find seven virgins. The account thus emphasizes

the connection between the purity of women and the permission granted to them by the priests

601
See pages 6-8.
602
b.Nid. 5.7. Horner therefore interprets PJ 8.2 to indicate that at the age of twelve Mary is expected to begin
menstruating and could thus be a source of impurity in the Temple. See Horner, “Jewish Aspects,” 325. Building
upon Horner’s exploration of the theme, Vuong also argues that by associating Mary’s age with the fear of her
defiling the Temple, the text is alluding to menstrual impurity and not to Mary’s mere presence as a mature woman,
nor to the possibility that at this stage Mary might pose a sexual temptation to the Temple priests. See Vuong,
Gender and Purity, 123-5.
603
Michael Mach, “Are there Jewish Elements in the Protevangelium Jacobi?,” in Proceedings of the Ninth WCJS
1985, ed. Moshe Bar-Asher (Jerusalem: The Magnes Press, 1986), 217. Mach argues that though the motif of the
priests’ eagerness to remove Mary from the Temple seems to be taken from the Jewish halakha, it is not. This is
since the halakha does not associate the age of twelve for girls with defilement but rather refers to it as the age of
female adolescence.
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to offer service to the Temple or even be present in it. The account seems also to connect this

episode with the removal of Mary from the Temple, as it relates that, “The priest then

remembered that the child Mary was from the tribe of David, and that she was undefiled before

God. The servants went out and led her back” (PJ 10.1). The term παρθένοι ἀμίαντοι used here

to describe these virgins corresponds with the rabbinic term bethulā le-dāmīm (‫)בְַתּו ַָלהַלְַדַָמִַים‬,

which literally means “virginal for blood” or “blood virgin.” This term is used in the Mishnah

to indicate a virgin who “started to menstruate before marrying.”604

The term μιαίνω, used by the priests to refer to the defiling of the sanctuary (PJ 8.2), is

used ninety-six times in the Septuagint and the Old Testament Apocrypha in reference to ritual

impurity. This term is particularly used in Leviticus 15, which states that menstruants, along

with others not yet purified from discharges that result in impurity (Lev 15.19-30), should

“separate from their uncleanness, so that they do not die in their uncleanness by defiling my

tabernacle that is in their midst” (Lev 15.31). This prohibition on menstruating women entering

the Temple is emphasized in various Jewish Second Temple and rabbinic texts.605 The book of

1 Maccabees affirms this connection between blood and the defilement of holy places. It uses

μιαίνω to describe how the shedding of innocent blood (1 Macc 1.37) and the spilling of the

blood of unclean animals (1 Macc 1.47) defile (μιᾶναι) the sanctuary (1 Macc 1.46).606

The Prot. Jas. could also be drawing upon Greco-Roman religious traditions when

presenting this notion of defilement. Thus, beginning with the second century BC, specific

Greek cult laws prohibit women throughout the Greco-Roman world from entering shrines until

they are purified from their menstruation.607 This account of the Prot. Jas. could therefore be

604
j.Nid. 1. 4. For this theme see Saul Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine: Studies in the Literary
Transmission, Beliefs and Manners of Palestine in the I century B.C.E. – IV century C.E. (New York: Jewish
Theological Seminary of America, 1962), 167-8 and n. 30. Lieberman is discussing the term in the context of the
spinning of the Temple veil (PJ 10) and not in the context of the priests’ desire to remove Mary from the Temple
(PJ 8.2). He therefore argues that in the context of PJ 10, παρθένοι ἀμίαντοι means “virgins who have not reached
the age of puberty.” See ibid., 168.
605
Ibid., 122-3.
606
See Nutzman, “Mary in the Protoevangelium,” 566-8.
607
Matthew Dillon, Girls and Women in Classical Greek Religion (New York: Routledge, 2002), 249-50.
212
influenced by Jewish or Greco-Roman traditions, or an amalgamation of traditions from both

milieus. In any case, it is most likely that the Prot. Jas. – by associating Mary’s turning twelve

with the priests’ eagerness to remove her from the Temple – means to indicate that Mary’s

menstruation would result in a state of impurity. This reading of the text does not attribute any

immorality or sinfulness to Mary, since the biblical traditions related to the purity of the Temple

do not condemn the menstruant, but rather the disobedience of laws related to menstrual

purity.608

The fact that the mufassirūn mention traditions about Mary’s purification from her

menstruation in their exposition of Sūrat Maryam’s nativity offers two possibilities. They were

either exposed to a Prot. Jas. tradition that presents this matter explicitly, or to commentaries

on the Prot. Jas. that explicate this theme even though the accounts keep it implicit. This

reliance on additional Prot. Jas. material is clear, since neither the Qur’ān nor the surviving

accounts of the Prot. Jas. make any explicit reference to Mary’s menstruation.

The tradition presented in the tafāsīr stating that Mary was in the Temple or the miḥrāb

when she needed to withdraw for purification echoes certain elements in Zervos’s hypothesis

concerning the Genesis Marias. As mentioned earlier, Zervos argues that in the Genesis Marias,

the text which he believes to have been the proto-account of the Prot. Jas., the whole scene of

the annunciation took place in the Temple. He therefore suggests that the Prot. Jas.’s portrayal

of Mary taking the pitcher and going to fetch water before the annunciation (PJ 11.1) might be

a symbolic reference to Mary washing ritually in the Temple before hearing the divine voice.

Zervos indicates that the connection between the Prot. Jas. and this metaphoric imagery could

be further strengthened by the biblical references to the bronze molten sea, in which the priests

608
Lily Vuong, “‘Let Us Bring Her Up to the Temple of the Lord’: Exploring the Boundaries of Jewish and
Christian Relations through the Presentation of Mary in the Protevangelium of James,” in Infancy Gospels: Stories
and Identities, ed. Claire Clivaz et al. (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 429-31. Vuong therefore reads Mary’s
compliance with the priests in this context to be rather a sign of her obedience. Vuong further points out that the
priests are also represented as godly ministers, as they adhere to the biblical laws of purity and guard the holiness
of the Temple.
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washed themselves (2 Chr 4.6), and the bronze lavers that were in the court outside the Temple

for ritual purposes (1 Kgs 7.38).609

Further Possible Correspondences between the Tafsīr Traditions and the Prot. Jas.

The mufassirūn’s expositions of the ḥijāb in Q 19.17 further suggest their acquaintance

with the Prot. Jas. tradition. When interpreting the ḥijāb that concealed Mary as her miḥrāb,

al-Qummī clearly echoes the references in the Prot. Jas. to Mary’s upbringing in the Temple

(PJ 8.1), and maybe also to her upbringing in the Holy of Holies (PJ 13.2; 15.3). The traditions

in Muqātil and al-Zamakhsharī interpreting the ḥijāb as a mountain, and the traditions in al-

Ṭabarī identifying the ḥijāb with the sun, might also correspond with the Prot. Jas. Thus, the

Prot. Jas. mentions that when King Herod sent murderers to “kill every infant, two years and

under” (PJ 22.1), Mary wrapped the infant Jesus in swaddling clothes and placed him in a cattle

manger (PJ 22.2). At the same time, when Elizabeth heard that Herod’s men were looking for

her son John, she took him and went into the hill country looking for a place to hide him. Not

being able to find a hiding place, nor to climb a mountain, Elizabeth moaned and said,

“Mountain of God, receive a mother with her child” (PJ 22.3). Here the account relates that

“straight away the mountain split open and received her [Elizabeth]. And the mountain was

shining a light on her, for an angel of the Lord was with them, protecting them [Elizabeth and

John]” (PJ 22.3). The account does not mention Elizabeth and John after this incident, but it

clearly indicates that they were rescued from Herod’s men.

The main difference between these traditions is that the Prot. Jas. relates that Elizabeth

and John were concealed inside a shining mountain, while Muqātil, al-Zamakhsharī, and al-

Ṭabarī identify Mary as the one who was concealed by the mountain or by the sun. The

correspondence is not evident. The echoes of the Prot. Jas. account might however suggest that

609
Zervos, “An Early Non-Canonical Annunciation Story,” 682-3 and n. 38.
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the mufassirūn encountered certain Prot. Jas. traditions that differ from the surviving Prot. Jas.

accounts. It is also feasible that the oral transmission of the Prot. Jas. tradition resulted in such

adaptations of this account.

The Qur’ānic Text and Late Antique Traditions

As mentioned earlier, Mary’s withdrawal to an eastern place and her use of the veil, are

unique to Sūrat Maryam. Though this sūra conjoins both themes in the same image it is difficult

to find a late antique source that associates both motifs. Sūrat Maryam seems therefore to be in

conversation with various traditions in this context. This section will discuss each theme

separately.

Mary’s Withdrawal from Her People

The examination of Q 19.16 and its larger context in relation to Christian traditions

should begin with the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Both Gospels present different accounts

of the nativity (Luke 1.26-56, 2.1-20; Matt 1.18-2.23). Subsequent nativity traditions either

draw upon these accounts or elaborate them.

The Setting of the Annunciation and the Notion of Shame in the Canonical Gospels

The setting of the annunciation in Sūrat Maryam (Q 19.16-17a) is distinct from the one

presented in the Gospel of Luke (Luke 1.26-38). Luke’s Gospel does not describe Mary as

“withdrawing” from her people, nor does it mention that she intended to isolate herself at any

period, whether before or after the annunciation. It rather relates that she received the

annunciation while in Nazareth:

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called

Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of

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 David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her (εἰσελθὼν) and said,

“Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you” (Luke 1.26-28).

The Greek participle εἰσελθὼν, meaning “having entered,” suggests that Mary was

inside a house when the angel delivered the annunciation.610 The account also indicates that

Mary was alone when the angel approached her, as it does not mention any other figures present

during the annunciation besides her and the angel. Unlike Sūrat Maryam, Luke’s Gospel does

not explicitly mention Mary’s family or her people. In this sense, Mary is not portrayed in this

Gospel as someone with a particularly noteworthy background.611 However, her presentation

as “a virgin engaged (ἐμνηστευμένην) to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David”

(Luke 1.27) reveals the intention of the narrator, or the narrators, to introduce Mary as living

close to her fiancé, who is from the distinguished “house of David,” and therefore also among

her people.612

Mary’s proximity to her people is further emphasized in Matthew’s Gospel. Though this

Gospel does not present an account of the annunciation, it mentions that when Joseph knew of

Mary’s pregnancy “before they lived together … unwilling to expose her to public disgrace

(παραδειγματίσαι), [he] planned to dismiss her quietly” (Matt 1.18-19).613 Joseph’s

cautiousness not to disgrace Mary, and his envisaged plan to divorce her secretly in order to

avoid a social scandal, displays the narrator’s intention to locate Mary within the social context

of her Jewish community during her pregnancy, subsequent to the annunciation.

610
The participle εἰσελθὼν and its verb εισέρχομαι are used in the Gospel of Luke and the Acts of Apostles, both
attributed to Luke, to indicate the meaning “to enter into,” “to go in,” or “to come in.” See for example Luke 1.9,
40, 4.16, 4.38, Acts 1.13, 1.21, 3.8, 5.7. See GELNT, 113.
611
Green, The Gospel of Luke, 86.
612
The passive participle ἐμνηστευμένην (Luke 1.27) derives from the verb μνηστεύω which means “to betroth”
(cf. Matt 1.18) and refers to the one-year (or so) engagement that took place in ancient Jewish society before the
woman moved to her husband’s house. During that period the woman was acknowledged as “wife,” although the
marriage was still not “concluded,” and she continued to live in her parents’ home. See William Davies and Dale
Allison, Jr. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew, vol. 1 (London:
T&T Clark International, 2004), 199.
613
The infinitive παραδειγματίσαι carries the meaning of “to publicly disgrace,” or “to show alongside the public.”
The term is used in Heb 6.6 in the meaning of “put him to open shame,” or “subject to public disgrace.” See ibid.,
204.
216
 The Gospels of Matthew and Luke do not present any such fears on Mary’s part, either

in the context of the annunciation or in relation to Mary’s pregnancy. In Luke’s Gospel, when

Mary hears the annunciation she merely asks, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke

1.34). The question here is meant to reflect wonder as to the nature of the conception, and not

anxiety concerning the implications of Mary’s future predicament as a pregnant single woman.

Luke’s narrative also does not make any mention of Mary’s family in this context. It mentions

Joseph in this setting only as Mary’s fiancé (Luke 1.27); and subsequently it refers to the census

that forces Joseph to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem “to be registered with Mary, to whom

he was engaged and who was expecting a child” (Luke 2.5).

Matthew’s Gospel does refer to the possibility of a scandal, but only as a mere reflection

on a feasible situation that is not realized eventually. This is conspicuous in the account’s

portrayal of how Joseph’s decision to divorce Mary secretly, after he realizes that she is

pregnant (Matt 1.19), soon fades away when the angel explains to him that Mary conceived

through the Holy Spirit (Matt 1.20). The account further emphasizes that even if Joseph had

divorced Mary, he would have done so without allowing a scandal to take place, since “being

a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, [he] planned to dismiss her

quietly” (Matt 1.19). Therefore, Joseph’s fear of disgracing Mary is not meant to indicate that

a scandal would have been realized, but rather to express the social context in which Mary and

Joseph lived. The account thus emphasizes that a social scandal would not have taken place.

Sūrat Maryam, however, clearly expresses Mary’s fear of a social scandal in the context

of the annunciation. Mary asks the divine messenger, “How shall to me be a boy, when no

human has [ever] touched me, nor have I been a harlot?” (Q 19.20). Mary’s fears of being

accused of harlotry are later realized when she returns to her people and faces this attribution

(Q 19.27-28).

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Mary’s Withdrawal from Her People in Light of the Prot. Jas.

The lack of correspondence between Sūrat Maryam and the Gospels of Matthew and

Luke regarding Mary’s fear of a social scandal suggests that Sūrat Maryam draws upon other

traditions. The general correspondence between the qur’ānic nativity and the Prot. Jas. suggests

that the latter work could offer insights in this context. But the congruence between the setting

of the annunciation in the Prot. Jas. and Sūrat Maryam is complex. The Prot. Jas. presents the

annunciation as taking place inside Joseph’s home, where Mary is sitting by herself (PJ 11.2-

3). However, before Mary receives the annunciation, she goes out of Joseph’s home to fetch

water, and she is addressed by a voice saying, “Greetings, you who are favored! The Lord is

with you. You are blessed among women” (PJ 11.1). This might suggest a certain

correspondence with Sūrat Maryam’s depiction of Mary as being alone – away from her

community – when she receives the annunciation. This correspondence remains however vague

since this section of the Prot. Jas. does not portray Mary as receiving the full annunciation nor

as withdrawing from her people.

The more obvious parallel regarding location in both texts is not to be found in their

annunciation scenes, but rather in their portrayal of the birth of Jesus. Sūrat Maryam’s depiction

of Mary as giving birth in “a remote place (makānan qaṣṣiyya)” (Q 19.22), as opposed to the

city of Bethlehem, finds a parallel only in the Prot. Jas. and later witnesses fully dependent on

it. These texts diverge from the conventional early Christian traditions by referring to Jesus’

place of birth as “a wilderness” (PJ 17.3).614 Sūrat Maryam’s setting of the annunciation could

be understood in light of the setting of Jesus’ birth in the Prot. Jas. The exploration of this

correspondence requires however a preceding examination of the congruence between the

qur’ānic nativity and the depiction of the social scandal that Mary faces as a pregnant woman

in the Prot. Jas.

614
Shoemaker, “Christmas in the Qur’ān,” 16-17.
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 The Prot. Jas., unlike the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, describes a horrendous scandal

resulting from Mary’s pregnancy. It mentions that after the annunciation “she [Mary] remained

three months with Elizabeth. Day by day her own belly grew. Mary then returned home in fear,

and hid herself from the sons of Israel (PJ 12.3).615 This portrayal of Mary as hiding herself

from “the children of Israel” in “her house” corresponds with Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of

Mary: “she withdrew from her people … and took a ḥijāb (veil) apart from them” (Q 19.16-

17). The qur’ānic text contains clear variances, of course, such as Mary’s withdrawal to an

“eastern place” (Q 19.16) instead of “her house” (PJ 12.3). However, the main difference

between both accounts is Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of Mary as withdrawing from her people

before the annunciation takes place, and not after it as in the Prot. Jas.

The Prot. Jas. depicts Mary as hiding herself from her people immediately after the

annunciation. This is meant to prepare the reader for the charges that she faces later in this

account as a result of her pregnancy. The problem that Mary’s pregnancy poses in this work

emerges from her being a virgin who was raised in the Temple, and from her merely living

under Joseph’s protection without being betrothed to him, as is the case in the Gospels of

Matthew and Luke. Therefore, when Joseph comes back to his home after months of absence

and finds Mary in her sixth month of pregnancy, he accuses her of fornication (PJ 13). In a

manner similar to the account of Matthew’s Gospel, Joseph in the Prot. Jas. decides to “secretly

divorce her” (PJ 14.1) but changes his mind when “an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a

dream” telling him that “that which is in her [Mary] comes from the Holy Spirit” (PJ 14.2).616

This, however, does not put an end to the accusations against Mary in the Prot. Jas.

When a scribe called Annas discovers that Mary is pregnant, he informs the high priest, who

sends servants to bring Mary and Joseph to appear before the Temple court. As Mary and Joseph

615
The Prot. Jas. is drawing here upon two verses from Luke’s gospel. The first sentence is taken from Luke 1.56,
which mentions that “Mary remained with her [Elizabeth] about three months and then returned to her home.” The
second sentence is taken from Luke 1.24, which relates that “after those days … Elizabeth conceived, and for five
months she remained in seclusion.”
616
Cf. Matt 1.18-24.
219
deny all the accusations raised against them, claiming to be innocent of any guilt, the high priest

makes both of them drink the “water of refutation” and sends them separately to the wilderness

(PJ 15.1-16.2). When Mary and Joseph return “whole,” the account relates that “all the people

were amazed that their sin was not revealed” (PJ 16.2). And the high priest says: “If the Lord

God has not revealed your sin, neither do I judge you” (PJ 16.3).

The withdrawal of Mary from her people in Q 19.16 might draw upon the Prot. Jas.’s

depiction of the high priest sending Mary to the wilderness after she drinks the water of

refutation (PJ 16.2). The portrayal of a crowd of people waiting to see if this ordeal will reveal

any sins indicates the narrator’s intention to convey that the scandal went beyond the inner

circle of the Temple and became widespread in the Jewish community. This scene could further

explain why Q 19.16 emphasizes that Mary “withdrew from her people.”

It is important to emphasize that in its portrayal of the “water of refutation” ordeal, the

Prot. Jas. is misusing and conflating two biblical traditions. The first is the instructions

concerning the use of the “water of bitterness” found in the book of Numbers. The law instructs

that “when a wife, while under her husband’s authority, goes astray and defiles herself, or when

a spirit of jealousy comes on a man and he is jealous of his wife,” he should bring her before

the priest (Num 5.29-30). The priest then follows a very detailed procedure which involves the

woman drinking the “water of bitterness” after the priest makes her take an oath, in which she

states that she will be immune to this water if she is blameless and cursed if she was unfaithful

(Num 5.16-28). These regulations do not at all apply to men and do not involve sending the

woman to the wilderness. The Prot. Jas. seems rather to borrow this latter motif from the

instructions found in the book of Leviticus concerning the sending away of the scapegoat into

the wilderness on The Day of Atonement:

He [Aaron] shall take the two goats and set them before the LORD at the entrance

of the tent of meeting; and Aaron shall cast lots on the two goats, one lot for the

LORD and the other lot for Azazel. Aaron shall present the goat on which the lot
220
 fell for the LORD, and offer it as a sin offering; but the goat on which the lot fell

for Azazel shall be presented alive before the LORD to make atonement over it,

that it may be sent away into the wilderness to Azazel (Lev 16.7-10).

Joining elements from both these traditions, the Prot. Jas. portrays the high priest as making

Joseph and Mary both drink from the “water of refutation” and then sending them to the

wilderness (PJ 16.1-2).

Besides the examples above, the Prot. Jas. emphasizes Mary’s shame in one more

incident. After the angel reveals to Joseph in a dream that Mary became pregnant through the

Holy Spirit, he “rose up from his sleep and glorified the God of Israel who had bestowed favor

on him; and he watched over her [Mary]” (PJ 14.2). The account further mentions that,

subsequently, after Mary and Joseph where vindicated by the high priest, “Joseph took Mary

and returned home, rejoicing and glorifying the God of Israel” (PJ 16.3). Surprisingly, however,

the account relates that later, when a census is decreed by the emperor Augustus, Joseph

wonders, “How should I register her? As my wife? I would be too ashamed” (PJ 17.1). The

more obvious contradiction is introduced when the text narrates that during their journey to

Bethlehem, Mary tells Joseph, “Take me down from the donkey. The child inside me is pressing

on me to come out.” Joseph answers by saying, “Where can I take you to hide your shame?”

(PJ 17.3). These references reveal the clear inconsistency between different sections of this

Prot. Jas. account.617 They nevertheless reveal the narrator’s intention to emphasize that Mary’s

pregnancy was a source of shame that resulted in a public scandal.

Sūrat Maryam, in a similar manner to the Prot. Jas., depicts a social scandal in the

context of the nativity. Nevertheless, in this sūra the scandal results from Mary’s childbirth and

not her pregnancy, and it takes place when Mary returns to her people with her child. The

correspondence between the various themes of Sūrat Maryam and the Prot. Jas. suggests that

617
For a discussion of the literary unity of the Prot. Jas. see Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 14-21.
221
the author of the sūra is aware of the Prot. Jas.’s association of the scandal with the discovery

of Mary’s pregnancy. Sūrat Maryam seems therefore to place Mary’s first withdrawal before

the annunciation in order to circumvent the social scandal that would have resulted from Mary’s

pregnancy and childbearing while among her people. The sūra thus consciously evades dealing

with the scandal and the shame by locating the annunciation and Mary’s pregnancy in an

“eastern place (makānan sharqiyya)” (Q 19.16-17) and Jesus’ birth in “a remote place

(makānan qaṣṣiyya)” away from Mary’s people (Q 19.22-25). Sūrat Maryam thereby succeeds

in pushing Mary’s encounter with her people to the end of the account, where she returns to

them with her newborn child. At this stage, the account alludes to the scandal but also prevents

its legitimization by presenting the miraculous act of the infant Jesus speaking concerning his

mission, and by this silencing the accusers and saving Mary’s honor (Q 19.30-33).

Nevertheless, the sūra’s use of the same verb, ’intabadhat, to depict both withdrawals,

and similar rhyming words, sharqiyya and qaṣṣiyya, to describe the locations to which Mary

withdrew reveals a deep connection between both withdrawals. Thus, drawing upon the Prot.

Jas.’s setting of Mary’s childbirth in the wilderness in its depiction of Mary’s second

withdrawal (Q 19.22), Sūrat Maryam seems therefore to project, not necessarily the setting, but

the notion of withdrawal and isolation unto Q 19.16. This suggests that the notion of shame

associated with Mary’s second withdrawal is also the reason behind her first withdrawal.

Mary’s Withdrawal to the East

Certain aspects of Sūrat Maryam’s depiction of Mary’s withdrawal have been

illuminated in the preceding discussion. Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of Mary as retreating

particularly to an “eastern place” (Q 19.16) remains however unclear. I will firstly present a

general overview of the significance of the East in Jewish and Christian traditions. I will

subsequently discuss the specific Christian traditions that could offer insights into Sūrat

Maryam’s use of this motif.

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The East in Jewish and Christian Traditions

As the direction of the sunrise, the East was always associated in Judaism with “origins”

or the “beginning” (qedem). The East (mizraḥ) was as well associated with salvation and the

resurrection since the Hebrew verb zaraḥ implies also the meaning “to rise.”618 The Hebrew

Bible mentions the East first in the context of the creation of man. It states that “the Lord God

planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there he put the man whom he had formed” (Gen 2.8).

The East is mentioned subsequently in the context of the expulsion of man from the garden, as

God “drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim, and a

sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life” (Gen 3.24).

Beside these references the “East” does not have much significance in the Hebrew Bible,

except in its relation to the gates of the Tabernacle and the Temple. Biblical references clearly

indicate that the Tabernacle and Solomon’s Temple faced the East (Num 3.38; Ezek 8.16;

11.1).619 Historical sources mention that the Second Temple was also oriented eastward.620

The book of Ezekiel distinguishes the eastern gates of the earthly and eschatological

Temples from the rest of the gates, by profoundly associating them with “the Glory of the Lord”

(Kāḇôḏ Yahweh), which refers to the presence of God himself.621 Ezekiel mentions the Glory

of the Lord in connection with the Temple, first as resting at the threshold of the Temple (Ezek

9.3, 10.4a) and filling the court of the Temple with its radiance (Ezek 10.4b). Ezekiel then

describes the Glory of the Lord as gradually departing from the Temple (Ezek 10.18) due to the

idolatrous practices (Ezek 8.5-18). It stops “at the entrance of the east gate” (Ezek 10.19) and

subsequently departs from the city, but stops “on the mountain east of the city” (Ezek 11.23).

618
EJS, 44.
619
Josephus mentions that, “The tabernacle Moses set in the centre of this [court], facing eastward, in order that
the sun, at its rising, should shed its first rays upon it.” See Ant. III: 115.
620
The Epistle of Aristeas mentions that, “The building faces to the east, and the back of it faces to the west” (Ep.
Arist. 88).
621
Moshe Weinfeld, “‫ כָבֹוד‬kāḇôḏ,” TDOT, VII: 33-34. For general discussion of the term kāḇôḏ in the Hebrew
Bible, see ibid., 22-37.
223
 The book later describes a vision in which Ezekiel is brought to “the gate facing east”

(Ezek 43.1), where he witnesses the return of the Glory of the Lord to the purified eschatological

Temple “from the east” (Ezek 43.2), emphasizing again that it “entered the temple by the gate

facing east” (Ezek 43.4). Ezekiel is then brought back to “the outer gate of the sanctuary, which

faces east” (Ezek 44.1), where the Lord explains to him that it must remain shut because “the

Lord, the God of Israel, has entered by it” (Ezek 44.2). Only the eschatological figure referred

to as the “prince” shall “enter by way of the vestibule of the gate, and shall go out by the same

way” (Ezek 44.3). The Glory of the Lord is therefore mainly identified throughout this book

with the eastern gate of the Temples. As the First Temple of Ezekiel’s era loses its sanctity

through the departure of the Glory of the Lord through its eastern gate, so also the eschatological

Temple is sanctified through the entrance of the Glory of the Lord through its eastern gate.

Jewish tradition ascribes great significance to the eastern gates of the Temple. It thus

states that on the morning of the eve of the Yom Kippur, the high priest would stand in the

Eastern Gate of the Temple. There he would watch the oxen, goats and sheep pass before him

while reviewing in his mind the order of their sacrifice and the various facets of the feast’s

service.622 The scapegoat, after being ritually burdened with the sins of the people of Israel, was

also led through the eastern gate of the Temple and sent eastward into the wilderness, signifying

that the sins of the people were carried away.623 Throughout the centuries religious and political

gatherings were held before the eastern gate of the Temple. The Jewish people were assembled

in the court in front of the eastern gate to fast and pray on public feasts or to be addressed by

priests, politicians or kings.624

622
See j.Yoma 1.3.
623
Rivka Gonen, Contested Holiness: Jewish, Muslim, and Christian Perspectives on the Temple Mount in
Jerusalem (Jersey City, NJ: KTAV, 2003), 66. According to Jewish tradition the scapegoat was lead from the
Temple eastward towards the Mount of Olives. See Günter Stemberger, “Yom Kippur in Mishnah Yoma,” in The
Day of Atonement: Its Interpretations in Early Jewish and Christian Traditions, ed. Thomas Hieke and Tobias
Nicklas (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 131; Bezalel Narkiss, “Temple,” EJ, 19:613.
624
Adolf Büchler, Types of Jewish-Palestinian Piety from 70 B.C.E. to 70 C.E.: The Ancient Pious Men (London:
Oxford University Press, 1922), 206-7; Joseph Heinemann, Prayer in the Talmud: Forms and Patterns (Berlin:
De Gruyter, 1977), 127-9.
224
 The theological significance of the eastern gate of the Temple was projected in Jewish

tradition also to the eastern gates of Jerusalem.625 This transference increased after the

destruction of the Second Temple, as its absence demanded the identification of the magnitude

of the eastern Temple gate with the eastern gates of the city walls that were in existence

throughout most of Jerusalem’s history.626 This transference subsequently generated the ancient

Jewish practice of praying for mercy at one of the eastern gates, which came to be known in

Jewish tradition as the Mercy Gate (sha‘ar ha-raḥamīm).627

The Jews were also familiar with the notion of facing the East during prayer. The Jewish

biblical tradition clearly refers to Jerusalem as the direction of prayer. In the inauguration of

the First Temple, Solomon prays towards the Temple (2 Chr 6.20), asking God to hear the

prayer of anyone of “his people” who prays towards the Temple (2 Chr 6.21, 26, 29, 32),

towards Jerusalem (2 Chr 6.34), and towards the Land of Israel (2 Chr 6.38). After the

destruction of the First Temple, Jews in the diaspora prayed towards Jerusalem as they

expressed their eschatological hope in the coming of the Messiah, the rebuilding of the Temple,

and the gathering of the Jews from the diaspora to the Land of Israel. This is clearly depicted

in the book of Daniel where Daniel, while in Babylon, prays three times daily towards

Jerusalem (Dan 6.10).628

Facing the East during prayer was however also practiced by certain Jewish groups. In

the earliest stages of the emergence of the Christian community, the Jews and the Christians

considered both orientations, the East and Jerusalem, to be sacred. Nevertheless, the growing

625
Max Küchler, Jerusalem: Ein Handbuch und Studienreiseführer zur Heiligen Stadt (Göttingen: Vandernhoeck
and Ruprecht, 2007), 183. Küchler states “Ezechiel ... in seiner Bildsprache bildet diese O-Mauer mit ihrem Tor
die Grenze zwischen heiligem Bereich (Tempel) und profaner Welt. Diese theologische Bedeutung hat sich
offenbar in der weiteren Geschichte auf das jeweilige Osttor der Stadtmauer übertragen, das ja gleichzeitig das O-
Tor der Tempelplattform war und ist.”
626
Julian Morgenstern, “The Gates of Righteousness,” HUCA 6 (1929): 1 and 29. Morgenstern writes that “the
most significant events recorded by Ezekiel in connection with the eastern gate of the Temple, transpired at the
outermost eastern gate, in other words, at what would correspond with the present Golden Gate,” 29 and n. 45.
627
Ibid., 28 and n. 43.
628
Uwe Lang, Turning Towards the Lord: Orientation in Liturgical Prayer (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2004),
36-7.
225
need of both communities to define their boundaries as separate religious groups resulted in the

Jewish community’s abandonment of the practice of praying towards the East, marginal as it

may have been, once it was established by the Christians as their orientation.629

The New Testament does not present any explicit reference to prayer towards the East.

Nevertheless, the belief that the East is the natural orientation of prayer was self-evident to the

early church.630 The position of the body during prayer was a dominant feature in the teaching

of the early Church. It is clear in the writings of the Church Fathers that Christians are to pray

while standing, holding their arms up, and facing the East, the direction from which Jesus

returns at the Parousia, the Second Coming.631 This belief was particularly associated with the

passage in the Gospel of Matthew which presents Jesus describing his second coming while

stating, “for as the lightning comes from the east and flashes as far as the west, so will be the

coming of the Son of Man” (Matt 24.27).632 Other scriptural references were also invoked by

Christians in support of this practice. These included eschatological references to the rising of

“the sun of righteousness” (Mal 4.2), and to the war in which “the Lord will go forth … his feet

shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem on the east” (Zech 14.3-4).633

Mary’s Withdrawal to the East and Christian Traditions

Mary is an intertestamental figure – a Jewish woman who gives birth to the main figure

in Christianity. Therefore, Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of her withdrawal to an “eastern place”

might stem from an awareness of the general perception of the East as a sacred orientation in

629
Ibid., 42-44.
630
Martin Wallraff, Christus Verus Sol: Sonnenverehrung und Christentum in der Spätantike (Münster,
Westefalen: Aschendorff, 2001), 60.
631
Andrew Louth, “Prayer,” ECT, III: 1267.
632
For this notion see “The Doctrine of the Apostles,” in Ancient Syriac Documents, trans. and ed. William Cureton
(Amsterdam: Oriental Press, 1967), 25; Erik Peterson, “Das Kreuz und das Gebet nach Osten,” in Frühkirche,
Judentum und Gnosis, ed. Erik Peterson (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1982), 15-35. John of
Damascus also mentions this reason and others behind the practice of facing East during prayer. See John of
Damascus, An Exact Exposition of The Orthodox Faith, 352-354. See also Griffith, The Church in the Shadow of
the Mosque, 145.
633
Lang, Turning Towards the Lord, 45.
226
Judaism, Christianity or both. It is also possible that this sūra is in conversation with a specific

Christian tradition.

The Prot. Jas. does not present any comparable reference to the East. 634 Nevertheless,

the piecing together of four preceding conclusions suggests the possibility of a connection

between Sūrat Maryam’s introduction of this motif and the Prot. Jas. Firstly, the sūra’s

depiction of Mary as withdrawing from her people seems to evoke the Prot. Jas.’s portrayal of

the ordeal of the “the water of refutation.” Secondly, the Prot. Jas.’s depiction of this ordeal

draws upon the Jewish practice of releasing the scapegoat on the day of atonement. It portrays

Mary as being sent by the high priest into the wilderness in an analogous manner to the sending

of the scapegoat by the high priest to the wilderness. Thirdly, according to Jewish tradition this

goat was sent to the wilderness in the direction of the East. Fourthly, as early as the eighth

century, tafsīr Muqātil reveals the familiarity of the early Muslims with alternative Prot. Jas.

traditions or commentaries. It is feasible therefore that the qur’ānic community was also

exposed to a Prot. Jas. tradition or commentary that explicitly stated that in the ordeal of the

“water of refutation,” Mary was sent into the wilderness in the direction of the East.

Sūrat Maryam might have also been influenced by Marian homilies that associate Mary

with the East. Such an association is found in a fifth-century Marian homily by Hesychius of

Jerusalem, who, utilizing the image of the eschatological Temple in Ezekiel 44.1-4 as a subtext,

states the following:635

You brought forth like a woman, but you were not defiled as a woman. You

were with child according to the law of nature since you awaited the appointed

time of labor but you conceived outside the law of nature. Another called you

634
The Prot. Jas. makes use of the word “east” only in relation to the Magi who come to Bethlehem asking,
“Where is the king of the Jews? For we saw his star in the east” (PJ 21.1). Later the account mentions that “the
star they [the Magi] had seen in the east preceded them …” (PJ 21.3).
635
See Dye, “The Qur’ān and its Hypertextuality,” 5. The homilies of Hesychius belong to the first half of the fifth
century. See Robert Pittman, “The Marian Homilies of Hesychius of Jerusalem,” (PhD diss., The Catholic
University of America, 1974), 16.
227
 “the closed gate situated in the East and leading in the king of the closed doors.”

So in this way he called you “the gate bringing forth since you became the gate

of the present life for the Only Begotten.” “The gate situated in the East,” since

“the light, the true one, that enlightens every man coming into the world,” came

forth from your womb as from a royal bridal chamber. You led in the king,

although the door remained closed, but you led him out again. For neither in his

conception nor in the whole time he was being born did the King of Glory in any

way open the entrance of your womb, nor loosen the bonds of your virginity.636

The association of Mary with the Temple and particularly with its eastern gate in the context of

the conception and birth of Jesus should be understood in the larger context of the liturgical and

homiletic literature associated with the feasts of the Memory of the Theotokos and the

Dormition of the Theotokos.

As mentioned earlier, the feast of Memory of the Theotokos initiated the liturgical cult

of Mary and was originally celebrated on the 15th of August in the Kathisma church. The

location of the church, in the middle of the road between Jerusalem and Bethlehem, is associated

in the Christian lore with Mary’s “rest” in the same location during her journey to Bethlehem

described in Prot. Jas. Besides the three main readings from Isaiah 7.10-16, Galatians 3.29-4:7,

and Luke 2.1-7, the canon of the feast indicates Mary’s rest through the verse “Rise up, O Lord,

and go to your resting place, you and the ark of your might” (Ps 132.8). The ark was interpreted

in the feast’s liturgy as a reference to the pregnant Mary, while the “resting place” was

understood as Mary’s rest during her journey and also Jesus’s rest inside her womb.637

The choice of the 15th of August as the initial date for the observation of this feast in

Palestine is not clear. However, the first recorded commemoration of the Theotokos in

636
Hesychius, Homily V, as translated in Pittman, “The Marian Homilies,” 32 and 82, (PG 93.1464A–B). Italics
mine.
637
Calabuig, “The Liturgical Cult of Mary,” 253.
228
Jerusalem on the 15th of August coincides with the exact day in which the Jewish community

marked the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple on the 9th of Av. This suggests that the feast of

the Memory of the Theotokos was meant to present Mary as the new Temple.638 This notion is

further sustained in the same homily by Hesychius, cited above, which also refers to Mary as a

Temple, greater that the “earthly” Temple:

The one calls her “the Mother of light.” That one “the Star of life.” Another “the

throne of God.” Another, “a Temple greater than heaven.” Another, “the seat

not inferior to the seat of the Cherubim.”639

This feast of the 15th of August, as mentioned earlier, was eventually transformed into

the feast of the Virgin Mary’s Dormition firstly in Palestine around the beginning of the sixth

century and subsequently throughout all of the Christian world.640 Among the scriptural

readings of the Dormition feast, the second reading is from the book of Ezekiel 43:27-44:4,641

which contains the following text:

Then he brought me back to the outer gate of the sanctuary, which faces east;

and it was shut. The Lord said to me: This gate shall remain shut; it shall not be

opened, and no one shall enter by it; for the Lord, the God of Israel, has entered

by it; therefore it shall remain shut. Only the prince, because he is a prince, may

638
For this view see Hagith Sivan, “Contesting Calendars: The 9th of Av and the Feast of the Theotokos,” in
Pèlerinages et lieux saints dans l'Antiquité et le Moyen Age: Mélanges offerts à Pierre Maraval, ed. Béatrice
Caseau et al. (Paris: Association des amis du Centre d’histoire et civilisation de Byzance, 2006), 444. Besides
pointing out the correspondence between the dates, Sivan further indicates that around 430 Hesychius of Jerusalem
delivered two homilies celebrating Mary’s role in the nativity. He refers in the first homily to Mary as “another
Temple larger than Heaven,” while in the second homily he emphasizes Mary’s supernatural maternity in response
to Jewish polemics against the virginal birth. See ibid., 445-6. Sivan further indicates that throughout late antiquity
Jews were visible in Jerusalem only on the 9 th of Av, when they mourned the destruction of their Temple. See
ibid., 449-50. Sivan also explicates that Marian feasts were settings for the condemnation of the Jews. See ibid.,
446 and n. 13. For this theme see Stephen Shoemaker, “‘Let Us Go and Burn Her Body’: The Image of the Jews
in the Early Dormition Traditions,” CH 68, no. 4 (1999): 775-823. Ray argues alternatively that the date of the
15th of August is taken from the Jewish Jubilees calendar, which commemorates the visitation of Sarah and the
conception of Isaac. See Walter Ray, “August 15 and the Development of the Jerusalem Calendar” (PhD diss.,
University of Notre Dame, 2000), 135–37.
639
Hesychius, Homily V, as translated in Pittman, “The Marian Homilies,” 78 (PG 93.1461A–B). Italics mine.
640
Sivan sees that the transformation of the theme of the feast is also linked to the rivalry between the Jews and
the Christians, since due to this reintroduction of the feast Christians joyfully celebrated the ascension of Mary to
heaven on the Jewish day of mourning. See Sivan, “Contesting Calendars,” 454.
641
See Raya and Vinck, Byzantine Daily Worship, 757.
229
 sit in it to eat food before the Lord; he shall enter by way of the vestibule of the

gate, and shall go out by the same way. Then he brought me by way of the north

gate to the front of the temple; and I looked, and lo! the glory of the Lord filled

the temple of the Lord; and I fell upon my face (Ezek 44.1-4).642

Though this text is read as part of the later liturgy of the feast of Dormition, which postdates

Hesychius, it might explain why Hesychius mentions in his homily – delivered during the

earlier instantiation of the feast of the Memory of the Theotokos – that Mary is referred to as

“the closed gate situated in the East and leading in the king of the closed doors.”

This interpretation of Ezekiel 44.1-4 is not however limited to the context of the

Kathisma or Marian feasts. Thus, the same interpretation is presented also in a fifth-century

homily delivered by Proclus of Constantinople in response to Nestorian theology during the

Christological disputations that led eventually to the Council of Ephesus:

Emmanuel as man opened the gates of nature, but as God did not rupture the

barrier of virginity … he came forth ineffably, according to the prophet Ezekiel,

who said: “The Lord brought me back by way of the outer gate of the sanctuary

that looks eastwards, and it was shut. And the Lord said to me, Son of man, this

gate shall remain shut, it shall not be opened and no one shall pass through it;

for the Lord God shall enter by it and it shall be shut.” Here is clear proof of

holy Mary the Theotokos.643

In a similar manner to Hesychius, Proclus refers to “the outer gate of the sanctuary that looks

eastwards,” and he furthermore mentions Ezekiel explicitly as he cites from Ezekiel 44.2.

Mary’s association with the East in late antique Christianity is illuminated through these

sources. The ecclesiastical tradition employed the image of the closed gate, through which only

642
Italics mine.
643
Proclus of Constantinople, Homilies I (ACO I, 1, 1, 103), translated in Norman Russell, Cyril of Alexandria
(London: Routledge, 2000), 34. Italics mine.
230
the prince is allowed to enter (Ezekiel 44.1-4), as an analogy to the Christian belief that Mary

conceived and gave birth to Jesus while retaining her virginity. The primary association of this

allegorical imagery is of Mary with the Temple and of her womb with the closed gate. The

affiliation of Mary with the East remains secondary in this context, since the East is not

inherently associated with Mary herself.

The affiliation of Mary with the East could explain why Q 19.16 depicts Mary’s

withdrawal to an “eastern place.” The clearer depiction of Mary as the Temple could further

explain why one of the dominant traditions in the Tafsīr literature relates regarding Q 19.16 that

Mary went to the eastern side of the Temple or a place to the east of the Temple, and why

another tradition mentions that she went to pray. But the prominent Tafsīr tradition which

relates that Christians chose the East as their qibla because this was the direction to which Mary

withdrew cannot be explained by any Christian tradition. The association of the reference to the

East in Q 19.16 with the qibla might rather allude to the existence of such association in the

Islamic tradition which the mufassirūn project in this context. The possibility that the East was

a sacred orientation for the qur’ānic community was raised in certain studies. I will explore this

option below.

The Qur’ānic Community and the Qibla

Few scholars have argued that the East was the first qibla, or one of the first qiblas, of

the qur’ānic community.644 The Qur’ān does not offer any affirmation of this hypothesis though

it clearly indicates that the qur’ānic community was engaged in disputations with the Jewish

and Christian communities concerning the direction of the qibla. Verses 142-150 of Sūrat al-

Baqarah comprise the main qur’ānic text that addresses this point. If the text is approached

644
Tor Andre was the first to argue that the original Muslim qibla was oriented towards the East. See Tor Andre,
Der Ursprung des Islam und das Christentum (Uppsala and Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1925), 4. See also
Moshe Sharon, “The Birth of Islam in the Holy Land,” in Pillars of Smoke and Fire: Holy Land in History and
Thought, ed. Moshe Sharon (Johannesburg: Southern Book Publishers, 1986), 229-33; Suliman Bashear, “Qibla
Musharriqa and Early Muslim Prayer in Churches,” TMW 81, no. 3/4 (1991): 267-282.
231
directly, and not through the lenses of Islamic exegetical traditions – which are overly

concerned with the theme of abrogation – then the reader can deduce only very basic

conclusions from it.645 The text basically declares that the Muslim qibla is being altered towards

the Sacred Mosque (al-Masjid al-Ḥarām) – a direction that Muḥammad favors (Q 2.142, 144,

149-150). The text does not contain any suggestion that Jerusalem was the earlier Muslim qibla,

as some Islamic traditions explicate.646

The fact that al-Masjid al-Ḥarām is identified as the newly adopted qibla by the

Muslims does not necessarily mean that the Ka‘ba became the new qibla.647 This is so because

al-Masjid al-Ḥarām should not necessarily be understood as referring to the sacred mosque of

Mecca, but could rather be referring to another mosque that was also considered sacred by the

qur’ānic community.648 The text further reveals that this new qibla is different from the qiblas

of the Jews and the Christians, “those who were given the Scripture” (Q 2.144-146),

emphasizing that even if the latter were given “every [divine] sign, they would not follow your

[Muḥammad’s] qibla. Nor are you a follower of their qibla” (Q 2.145a). The text also expresses

awareness of the disagreement between the Jews and the Christians concerning the direction of

the qibla, as it declares, “nor are they followers of the qibla of each other” (Q 2.145b). The

qur’ānic community’s awareness of the Christian qibla might suggest that, contrary to what the

mufassirūn argue in their exposition of Q 19.16 – that Christians pray towards the East because

Mary withdrew in that direction before the annunciation – Sūrat Maryam depicts Mary as

withdrawing to an eastern place (Q 19.16) because Christians pray towards the East.

645
Richard Kimber, “Qibla,” EQ, IV: 325-326.
646
John Burton, The Sources of Islamic Law: Islamic Theories of Abrogation (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University
Press, 1990), 179. Traditional mufassirūn commonly report in their tafsīr of this passage that when Muḥammad
and his followers first arrived in Medina, Muḥammad prayed towards Jerusalem. The mufassirūn occasionally
note in this context that Jerusalem was the qibla of the Jews, and certain mufassirūn such as al-Ṭabarī and al-
Zamakhsharī state that Muḥammad prayed towards Jerusalem so that he might show congeniality towards the
Jews. See Ṭabarī, 2:618-624; Zamakhsharī, 1-2:91, both on Q 2.142. Islamic traditions maintain, however, that the
alteration of the qibla from Jerusalem towards the Sacred Mosque in Mecca occurred afterwards – two, nine, ten,
thirteen, sixteen, or seventeen months after it was initiated with the hijra.
647
Kimber, “Qibla,” 326-327.
648
The Qur’ān refers once to the Ka‘ba as al-Bayt al-Ḥarām but it never refers to it as al-Masjid al-Ḥarām.
232
 The alteration of the qibla is therefore presented in Q 2.142-150 as an act of demarcation

on the part of the qur’ānic community in its attempt to declare Islam as the only true religion.649

The prominence of the qibla as one of the principal distinguishing features between Judaism,

Christianity, and Islam is revealed here. Thus, in the same way the different qiblas of the Jews

and the Christians played a role in their delimitation process, so also the qur’ānic community

declares in this text that the introduction of the new qibla is a “great [test] (kabīrah)” that is

meant to distinguish the “true” Muslim, “[he] who follows the messenger, from him who turns

on his heels” (Q 2.143).

The centrality of the qibla for the self-perception of each religious group as the

representative of the true faith is also attested in later dialogues between Christians and

Muslims. The reasons behind the Christian qibla are presented, in response to the Muslim

queries, in almost all the apologetical writings in Syriac and Arabic from the late Umayyad

period onward.650 Muslims, in response, often answered by referring to Q 2.142:651

The foolish among the people will say: “What has turned them from their qibla

which they formerly observed?” Say: “To Allah belong the East and the West,

[He] guides whom He wills to a straight path” (Q 2.142).

The Possibility of an Early Eastern Muslim Qibla

The hypothesis that the East was the first qibla, or one of the early qiblas of the qur’ānic

community is based mainly on certain historical and religious accounts and archeological

649
Burton, The Sources of Islamic Law, 171-173 and 179-183. Burton shows that Q 2.142-150 represents a
component in a larger process through which the Muslim community claims its independence from Judaism and
Christianity. Burton notes that Sūrat al-Baqarah (Q 2), as the larger context of Q 2.142-150, is very polemical, as
it contains constant attacks on the validity of Judaism and particularly the Jewish community’s claim to a special
covenant with God through Abraham.
650
Griffith, The Church in the Shadow of the Mosque, 145. Griffith mentions that a discussion between Christians
and Muslims appears already in one of the earliest apologetical texts in Syriac that describes the debate that took
place between a monk of the convent of Beth Hale and an Arab notable. For this debate See Griffith, “Disputing
with Islam in Syriac: The case of the Monk of Bêt Hãlê and a Muslim Emir,” Hugoye 3, no 1 (2000): 48-49;
Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 465-72. Hoyland dates the text to the late Umayyad period, “probably after 717.” See ibid.,
472.
651
Griffith, op. cit., 145.
233
findings. The most notable historical accounts are ones that report the construction of the first

mosque in Fusṭaṭ. These accounts mention that during the erection of this mosque, ‘Amr ibn al-

‘Āṣ ordered that the qibla be turned to the East, after he had consulted the companions of the

prophet. These accounts report that the qibla of this mosque was “very much turned to the east

(qibla musharraqa jiddan).”652

It is also worth pointing out that al-Maqrīzī relates two relevant traditions in this context.

According to the first tradition, when ‘Amr ibn al-‘Āṣ prayed in that mosque, he used to pray

in the direction of the East, give or take a little (illā l-shay’a al-yasīr). According to the second

tradition, ‘Amr once prayed in a church and did not turn from the qibla of the Christians, except

for a little (illā qalīlan).653

Moshe Sharon argues that “the traditions about east-facing qiblah in the mosque of

‘Amr ibn al-‘Āṣ in Fusṭaṭ cannot be accidental.”654 He points to his discovery of an open mosque

in Be’er Orah, in the Negev desert in Israel, which has two miḥrābs: one facing East and the

other facing South.655 Relying on this archeological finding and the historical accounts

mentioned above, Sharon claims that when the proto-Islamic believers (al-mu’minūn) that

inhabited Egypt and the Levant stopped praying in churches, they built mosques with the qibla

turned to the East. Sharon, however, maintains that the syncretistic faith of the mu’minūn began

to take a separatist shape that emphasized the uniqueness of the early Muslim movement. This

occurred with the reformations of the ‘Abd al-Malik. Principal features of these reformations

are manifested in the erection of the Dome of the Rock, whose inscriptions deny the Christian

doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation, declare Muḥammad as the most important of all

652
Ahmad bin ‘Ali al-Maqrīzī, al-Mawāʻiẓ wa-al-Iʻtibār fī Dhikr al-Khiṭaṭ wa-al-Āthār (London: Muʼassasat al-
Furqān, 2002), vol. 4 (1), 11; Ibrāhīm Ibn Duqmāq, Kitāb al-Intiṣār li-Wāsitat ‘Iqd al Amṣār (Beirut: al-Maktab
al-Tiğārī, 1967), 62. Shihāb al-Dīn Yāqūt, Kitāb Mu‘jam al-Buldān (Beirut: Dar Ṣādir lil-Ṭiba‘ah wal-Nashr,
1977), vol. 4, 265. Yāqūt mentions that the qibla of this mosque was turned “a little” (qalīlan) towards the East.
653
Maqrīzī, Khiṭaṭ, vol. 4 (1), 11.
654
Sharon, “The Birth of Islam,” 230.
655
Ibid., 231.
234
the prophets, and proclaim the superiority of Islam as the true religion.656 Therefore, Sharon

concludes that the miḥrāb facing East in the Be’er Orah mosque was the original miḥrāb, and

that the miḥrāb facing South was introduced to the mosque only after ‘Abd al-Malik’s reforms

came into effect.657

Building upon these conclusions of Sharon, Suliman Bashear presents three main

attestations that point in the same direction. Bashear first indicates that the Muslim traditions

contain a few variants of a report which states that during his journey to Khaybar Muḥammad

directed his prayer towards the East (naḥwa al-mashriq) while riding on a she-camel.658 Bashear

secondly points out that the term mashriq, meaning East, is used in Sūrat Āl-Şāffāt to refer to

God as “rabbu al-mashāriq” (Q 37.5) which could be translated as “the Lord of the sun’s

risings” or “the Lord of the Easts.”659 Bashear thirdly explicates, in this context, the connection

made between the derivatives of the root sh. r. q (.‫ ق‬.‫ ر‬.‫)ش‬, the direction of the East, and prayer

in medieval Arabic dictionaries:

A cross-examination of the lexical information on the root shrq confirms that

tasharruq and tashiq mean to turn eastwards or sit in a

mashruqa/mashraqa/musharraqa, which is again interpreted as a location or a

room facing the sunrise, especially the southeast in winter. Indeed some sources

strikingly point to the fact that “musharraq” in Arabic means a prayer place

(muṣallā), especially during a festival (muṣallā al-‘īd). Fayrūzabādī in particular

656
Ibid., 226-230. Sharon holds that in the early Islamic period there existed various proto-Islamic groups of
believers (mu’minūn) spread all over the Near East. These groups subscribed to a general syncretistic monotheistic
faith.
657
Ibid., 231.
658
Bashear, “Qibla Musharriqa,” 269. For the report in Islam traditions, see for example Aḥmad bin al-Ḥuseīn al-
Bayhaqī, Al-Sunan Al-Kubrā, vol. 2 (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyah, 2003), 11; Sulaīmān abū Dawod al-
Sagsutānī al-Āzdī, Sunan Abī Dawod, vol. 2 (Beirut: Sharikat Al-Risalah Al-‘ālamiīah, 2009), 417; Aḥmad bin
Ḥanbal, Musnad al-Imām Aḥmad bin Ḥanbal, vol. 22 (Beirut: Mu’assassat al-Risalah, 1998), 404; Muḥammad
ibn Ismā‘īl al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī (Damascus: Dār Ibn Kathīr, 2002), 267. The same context contains
another tradition according to which someone called Anas was praying in a different direction from that of the
qibla, and when asked about that he answered that he would not have prayed in such a way if he had not seen the
prophet himself do so. See Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ, 267.
659
Bashear, “Qibla Musharriqa,” 270.
235
 adds that muṣallā al-‘īd was called “musharraq” because prayer was conducted

in it at sunrise.660

Bashear, fourthly, supports these lexical expositions by pointing to pre-Islamic practices related

to the East and the sun’s rising, and to various Islamic traditions in which the derivatives of the

sh.r.q. are associated with prayer.661 He particularly indicates that certain early Islamic

traditions use tashrīq in reference to prayer or a festival of prayer and musharraq in reference

to a place of prayer (muṣallā).662

Bashear fifthly presents numerous references, in Christian and Muslim sources, to

Muslims praying in churches and Christian holy sites throughout the first century of Islam.663

Bashear suggests that these traditions were overshadowed because both Muslim and Christian

Arab sources intended to diminish the Muslim appropriation of churches and Christian holy

places.664 Bashear argues that the reason for this shift in Islamic sources from the mid-second

Muslim century was that Muslims were gradually establishing their own mosques and religious

institutions and were no longer in need of Christian sites to pray in. Bashear also explicates that

for this reason, and also as a result of the fact that Islamic law and theology were being

articulated in this period, Muslim theologians became critical of Muslims’ prayer in

churches.665 Bashear points out in this regard a few Shī‘ī traditions that permit prayer in

churches with the sole condition that Muslims must face the qibla. Bashear explains that since

these rulings are from the first half of the second century, this must raise the question concerning

the direction that Muslims faced while praying in churches in the first century of Islam.666

660
Ibid. For references to links between sharq, musharraq or tashrīq and ṣalah or muṣallā in medieval dictionaries,
see Muḥīṭ, 897; Tāj, vol. 25, 499; Lisān, vol. 7, 96.
661
Bashear, “Qibla Musharriqa,” 270-73.
662
Ibid., 271.
663
Ibid., 275-8.
664
Ibid., 275-6.
665
Ibid., 278-9.
666
Ibid., 280-82.
236
Bashear finally concludes: “We feel that, as far as the first century is concerned, one cannot

speak of ‘one original qibla of Islam,’ but rather of several currents in the search of one.”667

Examination of the Arguments for an Early Eastern Muslim Qibla

The arguments for an early eastern Muslim qibla are seemingly convincing.

Nevertheless, similarly to Bashear, one may conclude that the evidence is not strong enough to

fully establish this hypothesis. This is made clearer once the specific historical references

pointed out by Sharon and Bashear as an indication for an eastern qibla are examined in their

context.

Thus, the same tradition mentioned by al-Maqrīzī according to which the mosque of

‘Amr ibn al-‘Āṣ in Fusṭāṭ had “a very eastern qibla” (qibla musharraqa jiddan) – and which

also reports that ‘Amr prayed in this mosque facing the East “bar a little” – begins by relating

that ‘Amr instructed that the qibla be oriented towards the East so that it would be directed

towards the ḥaram.668 This tradition does not explain what ḥaram ‘Amr wanted the mosque to

face, suggesting two possibilities. The first possibility is that ‘Amr intended the mosque to face

the Ka‘ba, which he perceived to be located to the East from Fusṭāṭ. The second possibility is

that ‘Amr’s intention was to face another ḥaram that he thought lay to the East of his location.669

Either way, it is clear from this reference in al-Maqrīzī that ‘Amr did not simply request that

the Fusṭāṭ mosque face the East because he believed it to be in itself the true direction of the

qibla, but rather because he believed that to the East of his location lay a certain ḥaram. This,

however, leads us to the next point.

667
Ibid., 282.
668
Maqrīzī, Khiṭaṭ, vol. 4 (1), 11.
669
Patricia Crone challenged the traditional narrative of the birth of Islam in her controversial work Meccan Trade
and the Rise of Islam by attempting to prove that Islam did not originate in Mecca. Patricia Crone, Meccan Trade
and the Rise of Islam (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1987). Dan Gibson, a non-specialist in the field,
building on Crone’s work, argues in his Qur’ānic Geography that in the first century of Islam the original qibla
was oriented towards Petra and was eventually changed towards Mecca. See Dan Gibson, Qur’ānic Geography:
A Survey and Evaluation of the Geographical References in the Qur’ān with Suggested Solutions for Various
Problems and Issues. Saskatoon, Canada: Independent Scholars Press, 2011.
237
 The Be’er Orah mosque described by Sharon, with its two miḥrābs – facing East and

South – does not provide evidence sufficient for any assertions regarding an early eastern qibla.

Thus, the attempt from the time of ‘Abd al-Malik’s rule onward to reorient the qiblas of most

mosques in the exact direction of the Ka‘ba could explain why some mosques, like the one in

Be’er Orah, could have two miḥrābs. This attempt to reorient the qiblas of mosques could

indicate, as Sharon argues, that the early Muslim community had different qiblas and that the

reforms of ‘Abd al-Malik aimed, among other things, at establishing one unified Muslim qibla.

However, the prominent scholar al-Bīrūnī emphasizes the difficulty of locating the

qibla, even for astronomers.670 This suggests that many early mosques, established without the

advice of astronomers, would face different directions due to the difficulty of locating the qibla,

and not necessarily due to the intention of Muslims to face the East or any other direction.

Therefore, the discovery of a mosque with two miḥrābs, one of which faced East, does not

necessarily demonstrate that the early Muslim community prayed towards the East at an earlier

phase of its development.

The traditions and arguments presented by Bashear are also not sufficient for

establishing the notion of an early eastern Muslim qibla. The Muslim tradition about

Muḥammad praying towards the East during the hijra is a poor support for this view. This

tradition is presented in various accounts which mention that Muḥammad prayed facing the

East while on the she-camel. But these accounts immediately add that when he wanted to pray

the obligatory prayer, referred to in this context as the written prayer (al-maktūba), he went

down from his she-camel and faced the qibla.671 Other traditions mentioned in the same context

emphasize that Muḥammad was not praying the obligatory prayer, but was rather praying a

670
Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 573.
671
See for example Bayhaqī, Al-Sunan Al-Kubrā, vol. 2, 11; Ibn Ḥanbal, Musnad, vol. 22, 404; Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ,
267.
238
non-obligatory prayer (yuṣalī al-taṭawo‘) or merely offering praise (yusabbiḥ) in different

directions while on the she-camel during the same journey.672

The reference to God as “rabbu al-mashāriq” (Q 37.5) appears only once in the Qur’ān.

All other references to the East as an orientation equate it with the West (al-maqhrib), as God

is presented as the Lord of both orientations.673 The linguistic evidence presented by Bashear

in this context for a relation between derivatives of the root sh.r.q. and prayer or a place of

prayer does imply a connection between the East and prayer in classical Arabic. The correlation

remains vague since the connotation of prayer is only one of numerous meanings that the

classical Arabic dictionaries present as significations of sharq and its derivatives.

The traditions concerning prayers conducted by Muslims in churches and Christian holy

sites during the first century of Islam are very plausible. This is so since Muslims lacked their

own places of prayer during the early phases of the conquests. Muslims also shared various

traditions with Christians regarding holy figures and the places associated with them, which

could explain why they would have prayed in Christian holy sites. These traditions,

notwithstanding, offer little or no indication regarding the direction Muslims faced while

praying in Christian sites. Al-Maqrīzī thus suggests that Muslims did not pray in the same

direction as the Christians. Rather, in the same passage in which he introduces the tradition

about the eastern qibla of the Fusṭaṭ mosque, al-Maqrīzī emphasizes that when ‘Amr ibn al-‘Āṣ

prayed once in a church he shifted a little from the direction in which the Christians prayed.674

The hypothesis of an early eastern Muslim qibla, it could therefore be concluded, remains

unsustainable.

672
Bayhaqī, Al-Sunan Al-Kubrā, vol. 2, 10-11; Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ, 266-7.
673
See Q 2.115, 142, 177; 7.137; 26.28; 70.40.
674
Maqrīzī, Khiṭaṭ, vol. 4 (1), 11.
239
Mary’s Use of the Ḥijāb

Sūrat Maryam’ portrayal of Mary’s use of the ḥijāb to conceal herself from her people

also reveals a certain correspondence with the Prot. Jas. The examination of this

correspondence demands however a preceding presentation of the significations of the term

ḥijāb in the Qur’ān, its specific use in Q 19.17 and the defining of the specific veil referred to

in the equivalent context in the Prot. Jas.

The Significations of Ḥijāb in the Qur’ān

The word ḥijāb originates from the Arabic root ḥ. j. b. (.‫ ب‬.‫ ج‬.‫ )ح‬meaning to cover, to

screen, or to conceal.675 It appears only seven times in the Qur’ān. Besides Q 19.17, the term

appears in six other references, conveying five basic meanings.676 Q 38.32 employs ḥijāb

simply for a means of concealing objects.677 Q 33.53 uses ḥijāb for a curtain that protects the

privacy of married women.678 Q 17.45 and Q 41.5 use ḥijāb to mean a spiritual veil that

separates between believers and non-believers, preventing the latter from accepting the message

of Islam.679 Q 7.46 employs the term for a physical barrier that will separate between “the

675
Lisān, vol. 3, 50; Tāj, vol. 2, 239.
676
The term ḥijāb appears also in Q 7.46; 17.45; 33.53, 38.32; 41.5; 42.51. For all the significations of “veil” in
the Qur’ān as discussed here, see Mona Siddiqui, “Veil,” EQ, V: 412-4.
677
The verse relates that when lightfooted coursers were presented before king Solomon, he said: “[Indeed], I have
loved the good over the remembrance of my Lord till it was taken out of sight through a veil (tawārat bi-l-ḥijāb)”
(Q 38.32). The verse does not specify who or what disappeared behind the veil. The suffix “t” in the end of tawārat
indicates that what disappeared was a feminine subject, singular or plural. It is not clear, therefore, if the reference
is to the horses or to the sun. The Tafsīr tradition interprets this reference to ḥijāb to indicate the darkness of the
night, a mountain that concealed the sun, the sun’s disappearance after the sunset, or the concealment of the
coursers from sight. See Ṭabarī, 20:85; Zamakhsharī, 4:1036; and Rāzī, 26:204-5, all on Q 38.32. Nevertheless,
whatever meaning ḥijāb denotes in this context, it clearly conveys the concealment of an object.
678
The term is used in this context in particular reference to Muḥammad’s wives: “and when you [the believers]
ask of them [Muḥammad’s wives] for goods, ask them from behind a curtain (ḥijāb)” (Q 33.53b). The ḥijāb is a
way to prevent temptation, as the rest of the verse indicates when stating: “that is purer for your [the believer’s]
hearts and their [the wives’] hearts, and it is not [permitted] for you to harm the messenger of Allah nor to marry
his wives after him, ever” (Q 33.53c). This signification of ḥijāb is further revealed in the succeeding verses of the
same sūra, which declare that Muḥammad’s wives can converse freely only with their family members or their
close relatives (Q 33.55). Consequently, Q 33.59 also asks Muḥammad to tell his wives, daughters, and the wives
of the believers “to cast over themselves their garments (jalābīb); that is more proper, that they be recognized and
[therefore] not harmed” (Q 33.59).
679
Q 17.45 declares that when the Qur’ān is recited, God places “between you [Muḥammad] and those who do not
believe in the hereafter a concealed veil (ḥijāb) … lest they comprehend it” (Q 17.45-46a). Similarly, Q 41.5
describes those who do not believe Muḥammad’s message as telling him, “our hearts [are] within coverings
240
companions of Paradise” and “the companions of the fire” (Q 7.44) after the final judgement.

Q 42.51 uses ḥijāb in a distinct sense for one of three means through which God conveys his

revelations: “and it is not for a human that Allah should speak to him except [through]

inspiration, or from behind a veil (ḥijāb) or [that He] sends a messenger that he [would] reveal

[to him] by His leave whatever He wills. [Lo], He is exalted, wise” (Q 42.51).

The context of Q 19.17 positions Mary’s concealment through a ḥijāb between two

events: her withdrawal from her people into an “eastern place” (Q 19.16), and the appearance

of the divine messenger who delivers the annunciation (Q 19.17-21). The diction of the sentence

suggests that the ḥijāb is linked to both events. Thus, Q 19.17 reads, “and (fa) [she] took a veil

apart from them, then (fa) We sent to her Our Spirit who was manifested to her as a flawless

human being.” The fa (‫)ف‬

َ functions here as a conjunction at the beginning of the two phrases

of the sentence. The fa in the first phrase could be rendered as “so” or “and,” but the fa in the

second phrase is more accurately rendered “then,” indicating a causal correlation between both

actions – Mary’s concealment through the ḥijāb and the sending of the divine messenger by

God.680 The diction of the sentence thus implies that the divine messenger was sent to Mary

only after she veiled herself. The veiling should therefore be understood as linked to both

events.

The connotations of the word ḥijāb in this context also suggest that it is connected to

both events. Thus, the ḥijāb in the phrase “[she] took a veil (ḥijāb) apart from them” signifies

the basic notion of the concealment of an object, as it does in Q 38.32. But Sūrat Maryam’s

emphasis on Mary’s withdrawal from her people suggests that the ḥijāb carries a more profound

meaning. As explicated earlier, Mary’s people accuse her of committing adultery (Q 19.27-28).

Sūrat Maryam does not explicitly define Mary’s people as non-believers. Nevertheless, such a

(akinnah) [shielded] from that which you [Muḥammad] call us to, and in our ears [there is] deafness, and between
us and you [there is] a veil (ḥijāb)” (Q 41.5).
680
The “fa” as a conjunction can function as a connective particle, connecting two words or two clauses, or as a
conditional particle, indicating a causal relation between two phrases or sequence of events. See GAL, vol. 1, 290-
91; NAGWL, 437-8.
241
statement is found in Sūrat al-Nisā‘ which condemns the Jews, Mary’s people, for challenging

Moses and worshiping the calf, breaking their covenant with God, killing the prophets, and

claiming to have killed Jesus (Q 4.153-157). Sūrat al-Nisā‘ furthermore accuses the Jews

particularly of “their disbelief (kufr)” and “their uttering against Mary a grievous calumny” (Q

4.156).

The slander against Mary clearly refers to the Jewish attacks on the Christian belief in

Mary’s virginal conception of Jesus, which attacks were very common in rabbinic literature.681

The fact that Q 4.156 associates the disbelief of the Jews with their slander against Mary

suggests that Sūrat Maryam means to depict Mary’s people as non-believers. In light of this

conclusion, it is possible to surmise that the ḥijāb mentioned in Q 19.17 is also a means of

spiritual separation between Mary as a believer and her people as non-believers, as the term

ḥijāb implies in Q 17.45, Q 41.5 and Q 7.46. This deduction is further sustained by the fact that

the Sūrat Maryam describes the divine messenger as being sent to Mary only after she

withdraws from her people and conceals herself from them through this ḥijāb.

Mary’s Affiliation with the Veil in the Prot. Jas.

The Prot. Jas. associates Mary with a veil in a different manner than the one presented

in Sūrat Maryam. As explicated above, the Prot. Jas. establishes a deep correlation between

Mary and the Temple veil, relating that she was called along with seven other virgins to make

this veil (PJ 10.1). Three main elements in this account indicate that this veil is the pārōket

(‫)פָ רֹ כֶת‬, the inner veil that separates the Holy of Holies from the Holy Place in the Tabernacle

or the Temple (Exod 26.33-35; 2 Chr 3.14). First, the account refers to this veil as καταπέτασμα

(PJ 10.1), the same term by which the Septuagint renders the term pārōket.682 Secondly, the

681
For a discussion of the Christian belief in the virginal conception in rabbinic literature, see Peter Schäfer, Jesus
in the Talmud (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2007), 15-24.
682
Carl Schneider, “καταπέτασμα,” TDNT, III: 629. The Septuagint uses the term καταπέτασμα also as a
translation of the Hebrew ‫מָ סָ ך‬, which refers to the curtain that separates between the Tabernacle or the Temple and
the forecourt (Exod 26.37; 35.15). The latter curtain, however, did not have any unique cultic significance. See
242
materials from which this veil is prepared are “the gold, the asbestos, the fine linen, the silk, the

sapphire blue, the scarlet and the true purple” (PJ 10.2). These colors and materials correspond

with the ones that the book of Exodus mentions in the instructions concerning the making of

the inner veil:

You shall make a curtain (καταπέτασμα) of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and

of fine twisted linen; it shall be made with cherubim skillfully worked into

it. You shall hang it on four pillars of acacia overlaid with gold, which have

hooks of gold and rest on four bases of silver (Exod 26.31-32).683

Thirdly, the Prot. Jas., like the book of Exodus, relates that this veil was made by

women. The main difference between these texts is that in the biblical account the veil was spun

by “skillful women” (Exod 35.25), while the Prot. Jas. emphasizes that “undefiled virgins”

spun the veil (PJ 10.1). It relates that after the priests decide on the making of the Temple veil,

a priest says, “call to me the undefiled virgins from the tribe of David,” and the servants search

and find seven virgins (PJ 10.1). Then the priest remembers that “the child Mary was from the

tribe of David, and that she was undefiled before God,” and the servants lead her back to the

Temple (PJ 10.1). Mary’s chastity and virginity are therefore decisive in her being chosen for

this task.

The Correspondence between the Katapetasma in the Prot. Jas. and the Ḥijāb of Q 19.17

Despite the differences between the Prot. Jas.’s and Sūrat Maryam’s association of

Mary with the veil, a clear contextual correspondence could be pointed out between both

accounts. The Prot. Jas. relates that when the lots were cast in the Temple concerning the

ibid. Ehrman and Pleše render katapetasma as “curtain.” See Ehrman and Pleše, The Apocryphal Gospels, 51.
Hock and Cullmann both render it as “veil” in their translations of the text. See Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 51;
Cullmann, “The Protoevangelium of James,” 430. The latter rendition seems to be more accurate since πέτασμα
seems to be linked with the verbal form πετάννυμι, meaning “to spread out,” and the preposition κατα, indicates
the meaning “downwards.” See Daniel Gurtner, “Καταπέτασμα: Lexicographical and Etymological
Considerations to the Biblical ‘Veil,’” AUSS 42, no. 1 (2004): 108-9.
683
Cf. Exod 26.31. A similar veil is later used in the Temple; see 2 Chr 3.14.
243
materials and colors that each virgin is assigned, Mary “drew the lot for the true purple and the

scarlet, and taking them she returned home” (PJ 10.2). The Prot. Jas. then narrates the

annunciation account:

Mary took a pitcher and went out to fetch some water. And behold, she heard a

voice saying, “Greetings, you who are favored! The Lord is with you. You are

blessed among women.” Mary looked around, right and left, to see where the

voice was coming from. She then entered her house frightened and set the pitcher

down. Taking up the purple she sat on her chair and began to draw it out.684 And

behold, an Angel of the Lord stood before her and said, “Do not fear, Mary. For

you have found favor before the Master of all. You will conceive a child from

his Word” (PJ 11.1-2).

The purple thread that Mary is portrayed as spinning in this passage is clearly that of the Temple

veil (katapetasma), since the earlier paragraph relates that Mary took the purple and the scarlet

(PJ 10.2).

This reference in the Prot. Jas. corresponds with Q 19.17 contextually. Though the texts

present different settings of the annunciation, they both depict the angel, or the divine

messenger, appearing before Mary and delivering the annunciation only after she “takes” the

veil. The Prot. Jas. mentions that “Taking up the purple [thread of the veil] she sat on her chair

and began to draw it out. And behold, an Angel of the Lord stood before her” and delivered the

annunciation (PJ 11.1-3). Similarly, Sūrat Maryam relates that Mary “took a veil apart from

them [her people]” and then God sent the angel who delivered the annunciation to her (Q 19.17-

21). The Prot. Jas. is definitely more implicit in its reference to the veil, and it does not portray

Mary as veiling herself, as Sūrat Maryam seems to suggest; but it is clear that in both cases the

angel appears to Mary and delivers the annunciation only after she “takes” the veil.

684
Hock translates this sentence in the following way: “After putting the water jar down and taking up the purple
thread, she sat down on her chair and began to spin.” See Hock, The Infancy Gospels, 53.
244
 A further linguistic correspondence might exist between the two traditions. The term

katapetasma, used in the Prot. Jas. for the Temple veil that Mary was spinning along with the

other virgins, is rendered into the Arabic ecclesiastical tradition by the same word that Sūrat

Maryam uses: ḥijāb.685 This might suggest that the Prot. Jas. tradition was mediated to the

qur’ānic community through Arabic traditions, whether oral or written. The Prot. Jas. and Sūrat

Maryam both reflect another linguistic correspondence in their use of the verb “to take”

describing Mary’s use of the veil before the appearance of the angel. Thus, the Prot. Jas. relates

Mary’s action with a participle (“taking up (ἔλαβεν) the purple,” PJ 11.1). The past tense of the

verb “took” would have been translated into Arabic as ’akhadha (َ‫)أ َ َخذ‬, and in Mary’s case the

feminine inflection of the verb would be ’akhadhat. Q 19.17 mentions that Mary “took

(’ittakhadhat) a veil.” The verb ’ittakhadha (َ‫ )إت َّ َخذ‬is the past tense of the eighth conjugated form

of ’akhadha, the first form of the verb, and it is meant to intensify the meaning of the latter.

The meaning of ’ittakhadha is dependent on the object linked to it and it could generally mean

“took for oneself,” “obtained,” “adopted,” or “used something for the purpose of.”686 The last

meaning seems to be the one that corresponds most with the context of Q 19.17, were the verb

’ittakhadhat indicates that Mary used the ḥijāb or even “applied” it to conceal herself from her

people. If Sūrat Maryam drew on an Arabic translation of the Prot. Jas., then that translation

would have probably rendered Mary’s action of “taking up” the purple of the veil through

’akhadha or its derivatives. Syntactically, both sentences also place the veil as the object of the

sentence, as it is taken by Mary.

That Sūrat Maryam means to signify the katapetasma, the inner veil of the Temple,

when employing the term ḥijāb in Q 19.17 is further suggested by the Prot. Jas., Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān, the Tafsīr literature and Christian liturgical traditions. Thus, as explained earlier,

685
See for instance Ibn Kubr Abū al-Barakāt, Miṣbāḥ al-Ẓulmah wa-Īḍāḥ al-Khidmah, vol. 2, ed. Bishop Samuel
the Syrian (Cairo, 1992), 154.
686
See DQU, 15.
245
besides presenting Mary as one of the virgins who participated in spinning the Temple veil, the

Prot. Jas. also relates that Mary was raised in the Temple and in the Holy of Holies. Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān, drawing upon the Prot. Jas., mentions that Mary was raised in the miḥrāb (Q 3.37),

which seems to indicate the Temple or the Holy of Holies. A prominent tradition that the

mufassirūn present in their exposition of Q 19.16 also states that when Mary withdrew from her

people she went to the miḥrāb or the Temple. As we saw in the third chapter, the liturgy of the

feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos, which is dependent upon the Prot. Jas. tradition,

contains the following text:

And she [Anna] said: “Go, my child, to the One who sent you to me, for you are

promised to Him by vow, you are an incense of delicate fragrance. Enter into

the veiled places and learn the mysteries of God.

Mary, the Temple who contained the Godhead, the Mother of God, the Virgin

most holy, is placed today within the Temple of God.687

The association of Mary with the Temple and the Holy of Holies in all these sources implies

that by employing the ḥijāb in Q 19.17, Sūrat Maryam means to allude to the inner veil of the

Temple. This is further suggested by the sūra’s depiction of Mary as withdrawing to an “eastern

place” before she takes this ḥijāb. Since the entrance of the Temple faced the East, the Holy of

Holies and its veil were also located towards the East.

Mary’s Affiliation with the Temple Veil in Christian Sources

The correspondence between the veils in the Prot. Jas. and in Sūrat Maryam is

conspicuous. However, considering the importance of veils in biblical literature and in Christian

liturgy, and considering the immense popularity of the Prot. Jas. tradition, the qur’ānic

community could have encountered similar or related veiling imageries through various other

687
Raya and De Vinck, Byzantine Daily Worship, 519. Italics mine.
246
ecclesiastical traditions. The authors of the synoptic Gospels and the Epistle to the Hebrews

refer to the inner veil of the Temple (katapetasma) in relation to the ministry of Jesus and his

atonement.688 These references had a particularly profound influence on Eastern Christian

theology and liturgy. The gradual institutionalization of the Church structure in the Byzantine

empire resulted in a clear distinction between the laity and the clergy.689 In this context, the

sacraments came to be perceived as the special function of the clergy. Due to these

developments, towards the later fourth century the sanctuary veil was introduced to churches in

north Syria, from where it spread to other eastern regions of the Byzantine empire. The need to

conceal the sanctuary through a veil was also clearly influenced by and concurrent to a new

approach to the Eucharist in Patristic writings and homilies, describing participation in it as

fearful and “terrifying.” The clergy, unlike the laity, were considered to be safeguarded from

this “terrifying” power of the Eucharist, which had to be concealed from the laity through a

688
The term katapetasma is used only six times in the New Testament. It is mentioned only once in each of the
synoptic Gospels, which narrate that at the moment of Jesus’ death on the cross, “the curtain (καταπέτασμα) of the
temple was torn in two from top to bottom” (Mark 15.38; Cf. Matt 27.51; Luke 23.45). These references clearly
indicate the inner veil of the Temple. Through this image the authors of the synoptic Gospels communicate that
the death of Jesus removed the veil that separated between humans and the holy God to whom they are now granted
a direct approach. See Gurtner, The Torn Veil, 199-200. The term katapetasma is also employed three times by
the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews (Heb 6.19, 9.3, 10.20). The author employs the term first when he describes
how Jesus entered as a “forerunner” into “the inner shrine behind the curtain (καταπετάσμα) having become a high
priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek” (Heb 6.19-20). The image of Jesus entering “behind the
curtain” as a high priest is clearly meant to remind the reader of Aaron’s entrance into the Holy of Holies on the
Day of Atonement. However, the phrase “a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek” is clearly
meant to indicate Jesus’ superiority to Aaron. This superiority is further emphasized in the title “forerunner,” since
no one was allowed to follow Aaron into the inner sanctuary, while Jesus’ entrance into the heavenly sanctuary
allows also the entrance of his followers. See Gareth Cockerill, The Epistle to the Hebrews (Grand Rapids, MI:
Eerdmans, 2012), 291-2. The author uses the term for the second time when referring to the physical veil of the
Temple depicted in the Hebrew Bible (Heb 9.3). The author then uses the term katapetasma for the third and last
time, as he exhorts the community of believers to have confidence and “enter the sanctuary by the blood of
Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (καταπετάσμα) that is, through his
flesh” (Heb 10.19-20). The phrase “through the curtain, that is, through his flesh” is generally understood in
scholarship as referring to the body of Jesus, or more generally to his earthly life, as a veil. Thus, through his death,
the tearing away of his body, Jesus opened for the Church a “new and living way” to God. For this interpretation
of the phrase see for example Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 252; Luke Johnson, Hebrews: A Commentary
(Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006), 20-21, 54 and 257. Cockerill argues that this text does not
necessarily refer to the body of Jesus as a veil. He rather argues that the reference to the “blood” and “flesh” of
Jesus (Heb 10.19-20) “describe the earthly obedience, suffering, and self-offering by which Christ has opened the
way to God.” See Cockerill, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 469-71 (citation from page 471).
689
Robert Taft, “The Decline of Communion in Byzantium and the Distancing of the Congregation from the
Liturgical Action: Cause, Effect, or Neither,” in Thresholds of the Sacred: Architectural, Art Historical, Liturgical,
and Theological Perspectives on Religious Screens, East and West, ed. Sharon Gerstel (Washington, D.C.:
Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 2006), 27-8.
247
veil.690 This veil is referred to in Greek and Coptic as a katapetasma, in Syriac as a setārā, and

in Arabic as a ḥijāb.691 The concealment of the Eucharist, representing Christ, behind this veil

is therefore analogous to the concealment of the divinity in the Holy of Holies in the Jewish

Temple. Therefore, when the laity are called to participate in the Mass, the removal of the veil

is perceived as the granting of access to heaven itself.692

In this context, Mary is affiliated with the inner veil of the Temple through two main

imageries related to the Incarnation of Christ. Mary is firstly depicted as the Holy of Holies,

behind the veil of which, the divinity, represented by the unborn Christ, resides. Mary is also

portrayed as giving Christ the veil of his earthly body that conceals his divinity. Both images

are depicted in the seventeenth hymn of Ephrem’s Hymns on the Nativity:

In her virginity Eve put on leaves of shame. Your mother put on,

in her virginity, the garment of Glory

that suffices for all. I gave

the small mantle (prys’) of the body to the One who covers all.

Blessed is the woman in whose heart and mind you are.

She is the King’s castle

for You, the King’s Son, and the Holy of Holies

for You, the High Priest.693

Ephrem portrays Mary here as the speaker, proclaiming that she gave Jesus “the small mantle

(prys’)” in reference to the body that Jesus took in the Incarnation.694 Ephrem further presents

690
Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015), 480.
691
Elizabeth Bolman, “Veiling Sanctity in Christian Egypt: Visual and Spatial Solutions,” in Thresholds of the
Sacred, 73, 93-4, esp. 104; Christine Chaillot, The Coptic Orthodox Church: A Brief Introduction to its Life and
Spirituality (Paris: Inter-Orthodox Dialogue, 2005), 95. For the reference to the sitārah in the Anaphoras of the
Syriac Church see Lahmo Dhayé (The Bread of Life): The Book of the Divine Liturgy According to the Rite of the
Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch (Mount Lebanon, 2002), 144, 242. For references to the veil of the Church’s
sanctuary as a ḥijāb in an Arabic text, see for example Abū al-Barakāt, Miṣbāḥ al-Ẓulmah, vol. 2, 161 and 168.
692
Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy, 480-81.
693
HNat XVII.4-5, as translated in McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 154-5.
694
The word prys’ used here by Ephrem basically means something “spread out.” It is used of a covering, tunic,
garment, a covering for the breast, and a curtain. In the Christian context it could refer to the breastplate of the
high priest, the veil of the Temple, or the thin piece of bread used in the Eucharist. See LS, 1239.
248
Mary as an allegorical representation of the Holy of Holies inside which Jesus, the high priest,

is found.

The reference to the humanity of Jesus as a veil concealing his divinity is not uncommon

in the writings of the Church Fathers. Gregory of Nyssa explains in his Catechetical Orations

that in the Incarnation the divinity became hidden under “the veil of our nature (προκaλύμματι

τῆς φύσεως ἡμῶν).”695 Theodoret of Cyrus, commenting on the Epistle to the Hebrews 10.20,

presents a similar view associating Christ’s humanity with the Temple veil:

[The author of Hebrews] called the veil (καταπέτασμα) the flesh of the Lord, for

it is through this flesh that we enjoy our entry into the holy of holies. Just as the

high priest according to the Law entered the holy of holies through the veil

(καταπετάσμα) and it was impossible for him to enter in any other way, thus the

believers in Christ enjoy their heavenly citizenship through the reception of the

most holy body of Christ.696

Other Church Fathers established an explicit allegorical correlation between the body

of Jesus and the Temple veil in the context of clothing metaphors. Thus, Cyril of Alexandria

introduces the imagery of spinning in relation to the Incarnation, as he discusses the color

symbolism of the Temple veil. Cyril explains that the spinning of the Temple veil symbolizes

how the “bodiless Word was spun when he was knitted together with the flesh.”697 The blue

linen, Cyril explains, symbolizes that Christ is from the heavens, the purple that he is a king,

and the scarlet is meant to symbolize blood.698 Proclus of Constantinople develops this image

695
Gregory of Nyssa, The Catechetical Oration of Gregory of Nyssa, ed. James Srawley (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1903), 92-3.
696
Theodoret of Cyrus, Interpretatio in XIV Epistulas Sancti Pauli (PG, 82.752), as translated in Roch Kereszty,
Wedding Feast of the Lamb: Eucharistic Theology from a Historical, Biblical, and Systematic Perspective
(Chicago: Hillenbrand Books, 2004), 111.
697
Cyril of Alexandria, De Adoratione, 9 (PG 633D–636A), translated in Nicholas Constas, Proclus of
Constantinople and the Cult of the Virgin in Late Antiquity: Homilies 1-5 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 330, n. 34.
698
Ibid.
249
in his homily On the Holy Virgin Theotokos by likening Mary’s virginal body to a “workshop”

and her virginal womb to a “loom”:

… the Holy Mary; the untarnished vessel of virginity … the workshop

(ἐργ¨αστήριον) for the union of the natures … the bridal chamber in which the

Word took flesh in marriage … the veritable swift cloud who carried in her body

the one who rides upon the cherubim … the awesome loom (ἱστός) of the divine

economy on which the robe (χιτών) of union was ineffably woven. The loom-

worker (ἱστουργός) was the Holy Spirit; the wool-worker (ἔριθος) the

“overshadowing power from on high.” The wool (ἔριον) was the ancient fleece

of Adam; the interlocking thread (χρόχη) was the spotless flesh of the Virgin.

The weaver’s shuttle (χερχíς) was propelled by the immeasurable grace of him

who wore the robe; the artisan was the Word … therefore do not rend the robe

of the incarnation which was “woven from above” (ἐχ τῶν ἄνωθεν ὑφαντός).699

Proclus does not use the word “veil” (katapetasma) in this context. However, the last phrase in

this paragraph is clearly meant to associate the “woven” robe of the Incarnate Christ with the

veil of the Temple torn at the death of Jesus. Though Proclus makes the clearest explicit use of

this imagery, Patristic literature contains few preceding references to similar metaphoric

imageries.700

The affiliation of Jesus and Mary with veils is further developed in Christian Arabic

literature. The notion that Jesus’s body was the veil of his divinity was a theme prominent

among and common to all Eastern Christian denominations. Thus, beside Nestorian authors,

Melkites and Jacobites also use the term ḥijāb in their Arabic works in the context of the

699
Proclus of Constantinople, Homily I, De laudibus s. Mariae, 15-30, 152-3 (CPG 5800), translated in Constas,
op. cit., 137 and 145. The homily was delivered on the Marian festival in the midst of the heated debate over
Mary’s role in salvation history and ecclesiastical worship that led eventually to the Council of Ephesus. Ironically
enough, the ceremony was presided over by Nestorius, who unwittingly invited Proclus to preach. See Constas,
op. cit., 128 and 135.
700
For the association of Mary with metaphors of spinning and clothing in connection to salvations in the writings
of preceding Church Fathers see ibid., 323-5 and 332-4.
250
Incarnation explaining that “God veiled Himself (iḥtajaba) through a Man (insān) without

sin.”701

This metaphoric terminology is further extended to Mary in Christian Arabic literature.

The first Christian apologetical treatise in Arabic is an anonymous work known as the Treatise

on the Triune Nature of God. This work was written around the mid-eighth century with the

intention of defending the Christian doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation.702 This treatise

refers to Mary’s role in veiling Christ’s divinity of in the Incarnation:

God, thus, sent from his throne his Word, which is from Himself: and saved the

lineage of Adam, and this one [the Word] wore the weak and subjugated human

[through his Incarnation] from Mary the Good, whom God has chosen over [all]

the women of the world: so he [the Word] veiled himself (’iḥtajaba) through

her, and destroyed through him [the human that the Word took from Mary] the

evil and confined it and constrained it and left it weak, lowly.703

Christ is depicted here as veiling himself through Mary in the Incarnation. This imagery is

expressed in the passive in other works as Christ is described as being veiled. Thus, the

following Melkite Arabic text, written by an anonymous hieromonk sometime between the late

eighth and the tenth centuries, states:704

701
Fi Tathleth Allah al-Wāhid [On the Triune Nature of God], in An Arabic Version of the Acts of the Apostles
and the Seven Catholic Epistles, with a Treatise On the Triune Nature of God, ed. Margaret Gibson
(London: Cambridge University Press, 1899), 85. The translation is taken from Samir Samir, “The Cross of Christ
in the Earliest Arabic Melkite Apologies,” in Christian Arabic Apologetics During the Abbasid Period (750-1258),
ed. Samir Samir and Jørgen Nielsen (Leiden: Brill), 97. For the use of ḥijāb by authors from these three Christian
denominations see ibid., 97 and n. 138.
702
Sidney Griffith, “Answering the Call of the Minaret: Christian Apologetics in the World of Islam” in Redefining
Christian Identity: Cultural Interactions in the Middle East since the Rise of Islam, ed. Jan van Ginkel et al.
(Leuven: Peeters, 2004), 108-9.
703
Fi Tathleth Allah al-Wāhid, 83. The translation is mine.
704
For the author and the date of this text see Sidney Griffith, “Answers for the Shaykh: a ‘Melkite’ Arabic Text
from Sinai and the Doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation in ‘Arab Orthodox’ Apologetics,” in The Encounter
of Eastern Christianity with Early Islam, ed. Emmanouela Grypeou et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 283. The original
text is untitled and Griffith suggests the title “Answers for the Shaykh.” See ibid., 282.
251
 It had already been mentioned that John, while he was in his mother’s womb,

had given the good news that the Word of God was veiled (muḥtajib) in the

closed abode of God’s pure one, Mary.705

Mary is not explicitly referred to as a ḥijāb in these texts though this concept is also common

in the Arabic literature of the different Christian denominations.706

Both references presented here are post-Islamic and are taken from apologetical treatises

that use qur’ānic terminology.707 One cannot therefore be certain as to whether Mary is also

portrayed in pre-Islamic Christian-Arabic literature as a veil of the divinity. Nevertheless, as

demonstrated above, the works of the Church Fathers include such allegories. It is probable

therefore that also this notion of Mary as a veil was mediated to Christian Arabic literature from

pre-Islamic Christian traditions.

Conclusion

The depiction of Mary’s withdrawal from her people towards an “eastern place” and her

use of a veil to conceal herself from them are unique to Sūrat Maryam. I have demonstrated

that Mary’s withdrawal and concealment in Q 19.16-17 and within the larger context of Q

19.16-33 should be understood against parallel sections of the Prot. Jas. account. Mary’s first

withdrawal in Sūrat Maryam (Q 19.16) has a threefold purpose that is simultaneously

theological and literal. First, by placing Mary’s first withdrawal before the annunciation, Sūrat

Maryam avoids depicting, or even alluding to, the social scandal that would have resulted from

Mary’s pregnancy and the birth of Jesus. The sūra nevertheless acknowledges this scandal when

705
Sinai Arabic MS 434, f. 117r. The passage is cited from the translated text in Griffith, “Answers for the Shaykh,”
296.
706
Samir emphasizes that this theological construction of Mary as the “veil” through which God both reveals
himself and veils himself in the Incarnation was common among Melkites, Nestorians, and Jacobites. See Samir,
“The Cross of Christ,” 91, n. 138.
707
The authors of these texts, like many other medieval Christian authors who wrote in Arabic, draw heavily upon
Islamic and qur’ānic terminology in their articulation of the Christian themes and doctrines that they present as
part of their apologetical strategy. For this theme see ibid., 302-9; Mark Swanson, “Beyond Prooftexting:
Approaches to the Qur’ān in Some Early Arabic Christian Apologies,” TMW 88, no. 3/4 (1998): 297-319.
252
describing the accusations that Mary faced after returning to her people with her newborn child.

The avoidance of this social scandal indicates the qur’ānic author’s intention of reinforcing

Mary’s chastity. This notion is further confirmed by the absence of Joseph from this account as

well as the rest of the Qur’ān. Second, through portraying Mary as withdrawing from her

people, Sūrat Maryam initiates a sequence of actions that concludes with her return to her

people, and which clearly expresses the themes of shame and separation. Third, this withdrawal

plays into the qur’ānic typological formula that recasts the prophets and biblical figures in light

of Muḥammad’s life. Mary, like Muḥammad, retreats from her people and then returns to them.

Sūrat Maryam’s choice to present Mary as withdrawing to an “eastern place” is not

clear. Considering that Mary is an intertestamental figure, the sūra might be drawing on the

general perception of the East as a sacred orientation in Judaism and more likely in Christianity.

However, the sūra’s association of Mary’s withdrawal to an “eastern place” with her use of the

ḥijāb suggests that it is in conversation with a tradition that affiliates Mary with both the East

and the Temple, and particularly its Holy of Holies. This notion is further supported by the Prot.

Jas.’s and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s portrayal of Mary’s upbringing in the Holy of Holies and the

miḥrāb respectively. It is also supported by the prominent tradition in the mufassirūn’s

exposition of Q 19.16, stating that Mary withdrew to the Temple or the miḥrāb.

Sūrat Maryam seems therefore to be drawing upon the Prot. Jas.’s deep association of

Mary with the Temple. Mary’s particular affiliation with the Holy of Holies in this work could

further explain Mary’s withdrawal to an “eastern place” and her use of the ḥijāb in Sūrat

Maryam. The Holy of Holies faces the East in Jewish traditions, and the Prot. Jas. also portrays

Mary as spinning its veil, the katapetasma, which is rendered into Arabic as ḥijāb. However,

the sura’s depiction of Mary’s withdrawal also echoes the Prot. Jas.’s ordeal of the “water of

refutation,” which utilizes the Jewish practice of sending the scapegoat towards the East on the

Day of Atonement. It is therefore possible that the qur’ānic text is here in conversation with a

commentary on the Prot. Jas., or an alternative tradition of it, which specifies that Mary
253
withdrew to the East. Sūrat Maryam’s reference to the East might also draw upon Marian

homilies that associate Mary allegorically with the Temple and her womb with its eastern gate.

However, regardless of the specific sources which Sūrat Maryam uses, it reintroduces these

themes in a perfectly unique way that befits its account and theology.

254
 Chapter Five

The Identity of the Divine Messenger(s)

The previous chapter demonstrated the correspondence between Sūrat Maryam’s

portrayal of Mary’s withdrawal to an “eastern place” and her use of the ḥijāb (Q 19.16-17) and

certain sections of the Prot. Jas. as well as other Christian traditions. In this chapter I discuss

the identity of the divine messengers who deliver the annunciation to Mary in the qur’ānic

nativity accounts. The first section of this chapter will examine the literary motifs in Sūrat

Maryam’s annunciation in light of biblical epiphany type-scenes. The second section will

present the mufassirūn’s interpretation of the identity of the divine messengers and the reference

to the plurality of angels who deliver the annunciation to Mary. The third section will

demonstrate that Sūrat Maryam’s reference to the “spirit of God” (Q 19.17) means to designate

the angel Gabriel as it draws upon Christian and Jewish-Christian traditions. This section will

further examine Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s depiction of Mary’s interaction with the angels delivering

the annunciation (Q 3.42-44, 45-47) in light of biblical, Christian, and Jewish-Christian

traditions.

The Qur’ānic Text

After relating that Mary “withdrew from her people to an eastern place,” and that “[she]

took a veil apart from them” (Q 19.17a), Sūrat Maryam introduces the following theophany

that begins by presenting God speaking in the first person, describing how he sent his spirit to

Mary:

(Q 19.17b) “Then We sent to her Our Spirit, who was manifested to her as a

flawless human being.”

.‫َّل اَلاا با اشًرا اس ِوًَّي‬ ِ

‫وحناا فاتا امث ا‬
‫فاأ ْار اس ْلناا إلاْي اها ُر ا‬

255
 (Q 19.18) She said, “[Lo!] I seek refuge in the Merciful One from you, if you

are pious.”

.‫ت تاِقيًّا‬ ‫ت إِِّن أاعُوذُ ًِب َّلر ْْحا ِن ِمْن ا‬

‫ك إِ ْن ُكْن ا‬ ْ ‫قاالا‬
(Q 19.19) He said, “I am but the messenger of your Lord, to grant you a pure

boy.”

ِ ‫ك ِْلاهب لا‬
.‫ك غُ اَل ًما ازكِيًّا‬ ِ ِ ُ ‫قا اال إََِّّناا أ ااًن رس‬
‫ول ارب ا ا‬ ُ‫ا‬
Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān does not present the setting of the annunciation. It instead depicts a

plurality of angels addressing Mary precipitously, without an obvious encounter or a real

context. Mary however responds only to one character as “Lord,” and seems to be answered by

the same figure:

(Q 3.42) And [mention] when the angels said: “O Mary, [indeed] Allah has

chosen you and purified you and chosen you over [all] the women of the

worlds.”

.‫ني‬ ِ ِ ِ ِ ِ ِ َّ ‫ت الْ ام اَلئِ اكةُ اَي ام ْراَيُ إِ َّن‬

ِ ‫وإِ ْذ قاالا‬
‫اصطاافاك اعلاى ن اساء الْ اعالام ا‬
ْ ‫اصطاافاك اوطا َّهارك او‬
ْ ‫اَّللا‬ ‫ا‬
(Q 3.43) “O Mary! be obedient to your Lord, prostrate yourself, and bow down

with those bowing down.”

ِ ِ َّ ‫ك واسج ِدي واراكعِي مع‬

ِ ِِ
.‫ني‬
‫الراكع ا‬ ‫اَي ام ْراَيُ اقْ نُِِت لارب ا ْ ُ ا ْ ا ا‬
(Q 3.45) [And mention] When the angels said: “O Mary, [indeed] Allah gives

you glad tidings of a Word from him, whose name is the Messiah, Jesus, son of

Mary, illustrious in the world and the hereafter, and from among those who are

brought near [to Allah].”

ِ ‫اَسه الْم ِس‬ ِ ٍ ِ ِ ِ َّ ‫ت الْم اَلئِ اكةُ َي مراَي إِ َّن‬ ِ

‫يسى ابْ ُن ام ْراَيا‬
‫يح ع ا‬
ُ ‫ُْ ُ ا‬ ُ‫اَّللا يُباش ُرك بِ اكل امة مْنه‬ ُ ْ‫ا ا‬ ‫إ ْذ قاالا ا‬
ِ
ِ ِ ِ
‫اوج ًيها ِِف الدُّنْياا او ْاْلخارةِ اوم ان الْ ُم اقَّربِ ا‬
.‫ني‬

256
 (Q 3.46) “And he shall speak to the people [while] in the cradle and [as] a mature

person, and [he shall be] of the virtuous.”

.‫ني‬ِِ َّ ‫وي اكلِم النَّاس ِِف الْمه ِد واكه ًَل وِمن‬

‫الصاِل ا‬ ‫اْ ا ْ ا ا‬ ‫اُ ُ ا‬
(Q 3.47) She said, “My Lord, how shall to me be a child, when no human being

has [ever] touched me?” He said, “So [it will be], Allah creates whatever He

wills: if He decrees a matter, He merely says to it ‘Be,’ and it comes into

existence.”

‫اَّللُ اَيْلُ ُق اما يا اشاءُ إِ اذا قا ا‬

‫ضى‬ َّ ‫ك‬ ِ ِ‫اَّن ي ُكو ُن ِِل ولا ٌد واَل َياْسس ِِن ب اشر قا اال اك اذل‬ ِ ْ ‫قاالا‬
ٌ ‫ا اْ ا ْ ا‬ ‫ت ارب أ َّ ا‬
ُ ‫أ ْامًرا فاِإََّّناا يا ُق‬
.‫ول لاهُ ُك ْن فايا ُكو ُن‬

Literary Motifs

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān portrays a plurality of angels addressing Mary in an abrupt way, without

providing a clear context for the annunciation (Q 3.42-43, 45-47). Sūrat Maryam, however,

presents Mary’s encounter with the divine messenger in an account built of uninterrupted events

that allow for the examination of the literary motifs at work in this scene. The action of Mary’s

withdrawal from her people is intensified by her use of the veil to conceal herself from them.

By introducing these actions, Sūrat Maryam prepares the reader for the first climax of its

nativity account, namely God’s sending of the divine messenger who appears before Mary as a

human being (Q 19.17b). Mary’s interaction with this messenger presented in Q 19.16-21

constitutes the account’s first type-scene: an episode which takes place at an epochal juncture

in the life of the protagonist that is constituted by an established series of motifs, and which is

often identified with specific repeated themes.708

708
Ibid., 121.
257
 Alter has identified six most common type-scenes in the Hebrew Bible: an annunciation;

the birth of a significant figure to a barren mother; the encounter with a future wife at a well;

the experience of an epiphany in the field; the discovery of sustenance in the wilderness after

being in a state of despair; a testimony or a prophecy delivered by a protagonist before his

death.709 Other scholars have indicated and examined additional type-scenes in the Hebrew

Bible and other religious literature such as: the heavenly council, the sea-storm, adultery, and

theophany type-scenes.710

The type-scene presented in Q 19.16-33 comprises certain motifs that correspond with

those of the theophany type-scene as will be illustrated below. This account comprises also a

discovery of sustenance in the wilderness type-scene in Q 19.22-26. In addition to the sequence

of actions identified in the previous chapter, Sūrat Maryam’s generation of these type-scenes

as techniques of repetition should shed further light on its choice to begin the account with

Mary’s first withdrawal (Q 19.16) which it does not explicate. In the biblical accounts, beyond

their aural function, type-scenes serve “an eminently monotheistic purpose: to reproduce in

narrative the recurrent rhythm of a divinely appointed destiny in Israelite history.” 711 Sūrat

Maryam also employs these type-scenes to accentuate a notion of destiny throughout its nativity

account. By introducing Mary as withdrawing from her people (Q 19.16), the account, from its

outset, distinguishes her from the rest of society. The portrayal of Mary as retreating towards a

specific orientation, an “eastern place,” further indicates a sense of divine calling which the

sūra subsequently affirms through its depiction of the theophany, the annunciation, Mary’s

pregnancy, her giving birth to Jesus, and her being supernaturally sustained. Mary’s withdrawal

709
Ibid., 60.
710
See Min Suc Kee, “The Heavenly Council and Its Type-Scene,” JSOT 31, no. 3 (2007): 259–73; Pamela
Thimmes, Studies in the Biblical Sea-Storm Type-scene: Convention and Invention (San Francisco: Mellen Press,
1992); Saundra Schwartz, “From Bedroom to Courtroom: The Adultery Type-Scene and the Acts of Andrew,” in
Mapping Gender in Ancient Religious Discourse, ed. Todd Penner and Caroline Vander Stichele (Leiden: Brill,
2007), 267–311; George Savran, “Theophany as Type Scene,” Prooftexts 23, no. 2 (2003): 126-36; Savran,
Encountering the Divine. London: T&T Clark International, 2005.
711
Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative, 72.
258
from her people is meant to present her as a unique woman chosen by God for a specific role

in sacred history. Destiny should therefore be recognized as another theme integral to the

account’s value-system.

Sūrat Maryam’s nativity account does not incorporate the fixed motifs that constitute

the classical biblical annunciation type-scene. These comprise the tripartite schema of the initial

desperate plight of the barren antagonist, the delivery of the annunciation of a promised child

through a human or angelic messenger sent by God, and finally the conception and the birth of

a son.712 Sūrat Maryam presents the annunciation, mediated through a divine messenger (Q

19.17-21), and it mentions Mary’s conception (Q 19.22) and her experiencing of the pains of

childbirth (Q 19.23). The sūra, however, does not present Mary as a barren woman nor does it

describe the birth of Jesus, but rather abruptly mentions that Mary returned with him to her

people (Q 19.27).

The type-scene presented in Q 19.16-33 is more analogous to the classical biblical

theophany type-scene. These type-scenes relate the appearance of the divine before humans,

whether an individual or a group, in a visual manner that is accompanied with verbal

communication. These scenes typically depict the protagonist’s first encounter with the divine,

which occurs at a vital intersection in the former’s life, marking the beginning of a relationship

between them. The encounter usually reveals the contrasting perspectives or positions of the

protagonist and God or the divine messenger representing him. The protagonist is portrayed in

these first encounters as experiencing a shock as he or she is rattled out of ordinary reality, due

to the awe of the revelation which initiates a transformation of character.713

The motifs of a theophany type-scene comprise the initiation of the setting of the scene,

the manifestation of the divine, the human response to the presence of the divine, and

712
Robert Alter, “How Convention Helps Us Read: The Case of the Bible’s Annunciation Type-Scene,” Prooftexts
3, no. 2 (1983): 119-20.
713
Savran, “Theophany as Type Scene,” 119-120.
259
externalization of the experience.714 This section will discuss the way in which Sūrat Maryam

employs the first motif. The sūra’s presentation of the second motif will be partly discussed in

this chapter and partly in the subsequent chapter which will also examine the sūra’s introduction

of the third motif.

The biblical accounts contain various theophanies, such as Jacob’s dream at Bethel (Gen

28.10-22), God’s encounter with Moses through the burning bush (Exod 3.1), or God’s call to

Isaiah (Isa 6), Jeremiah (Jer 1), and Ezekiel (Ezek 1.1-3.14). The initial element in all these

accounts is the establishment of a setting in which the protagonist is totally separated from his

family or society so that he may experience the theophany in solitude. 715 In the case of the

prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, the biblical accounts do not explicitly mention their

separation from their environment; but they clearly imply that God revealed himself to them

while being in a state of seclusion.

The accounts of Jacob and Moses demonstrate this point in a clearer way. Jacob

experiences his first encounter with God in a dream (Gen 28.12-15) only after he leaves his

family, fleeing from his brother (Gen 27.41-45). The account portrays the place of the

theophany as a desolate place. It states that Jacob “came to a certain place” (Gen 28.11) without

naming it or defining it. The account furthermore emphasizes the solitude of the place by

relating that in order to sleep, Jacob took “one of the stones of the place, he put it under his

head and lay down in that place” (Gen 28.11). Moses also experiences his first encounter with

God in solitude. The account relates that Moses was pasturing the flock of Jethro when he led

it “beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb” (Exod 3.1), where “the angel of

the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush” (Exod 3.2).

As these theophany type-scenes clearly indicate, once the protagonist is in a state of

714
For a general discussion of all the components that constitute the theophany type-scene, see ibid., 126-36; For
a more detailed examination of these components, see Savran, Encountering the Divine, 31-189.
715
Ibid., 126.
260
solitude, the text introduces the divine. The biblical depiction of the divinity’s self-disclosure

is a complex and even paradoxical theme.716 In biblical accounts the divinity is mediated

through “an indirect, weakened appearance, distinct from the true essence of the godhead.”717

Theophany scenes present God as being revealed by the manifestation of “the angel of God”

(‫ְךַאֱֹלהים‬
ִ ַ‫)מַ לְ א‬, the “Glory of the LORD” (‫יְ הוָה‬-‫)כְ בֹוד‬, and the “face of God” (‫)פְ נֵּיַיְ הוָה‬. Each of these

terms refers to multiple phenomena that depict different aspects of the divinity.718

Sūrat Maryam, in a similar manner to the biblical theophany type-scenes, introduces a

setting in which Mary encounters the divine messenger in solitude, after she withdraws from

her people. Mary, however, does not encounter this messenger in a dream or a burning bush.

Sūrat Maryam’s setting of the theophany resembles more the Genesis setting of Hagar’s

theophany (Gen 16). Both accounts describe an annunciation delivered to a woman concerning

the forthcoming birth of her son after she had withdrawn from her community. Sūrat Maryam

describes how immediately after Mary’s withdrawal from her people and her concealment

through a veil God sent the divine messenger (Q 19.17b) who delivered the annunciation to her

(Q 19.19-21). The biblical account relates that Hagar ran away from her community because

Sarah, Abraham’s wife, treated her harshly (Gen 16.6) before “the angel of the LORD found her

by a spring of water in the wilderness” (Gen 16.7) and delivered the annunciation to her (Gen

16.10-12).719

The nature of the divine manifestation in Sūrat Maryam’s theophany is very unique.

The account presents God stating, “Then We sent to her Our Spirit, who was manifested to her

716
This is particularly the case because certain biblical references mention that the protagonist saw God or his face
while other references emphasize that God cannot be seen. For this theme see Hans Fuhs, “‫ ָראָ ה‬rā’â,” TDOT, XIII:
229-32.
717
Walther Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament, vol. 2 (London: SCM Press, 1967), 23.
718
For the use of these terms in biblical theophanies, see ibid., 23-39. Eichrodt adds to these categories the “Name
of Yahweh.” Ibid., 40-45. Nevertheless, though the “Name of Yahweh” expresses his character and indicates his
personal presence in the places in which his name resides, it represents his transcendental nature. Ibid., 40-42.
Therefore, it is also not anthropomorphic and is not used to depict God’s encounter with individuals in epiphany
scenes.
719
At this point in the Genesis narrative Sarah is still called Sarai, and Abraham is still called Abram (Gen 16.1).
The account subsequently relates that God changed Abram’s name into Abraham and Sarai’s name into Sarah
(Gen 17.15).
261
as a flawless human being” (Q 19.17b). The identity of this divine messenger and his

relationship to God who refers to him as “Our Spirit” are very complex and intricate topics that

will be discussed in the third section.

The correspondence between the portrayal of Hagar in Genesis and Mary in Sūrat

Maryam is further illuminated in the context of the second “withdrawal” of both characters.

After her first “withdrawal” from Abraham’s home, Hagar returns and gives birth to Ishmael.

However, after Ishmael grows up, Abraham sends Hagar and Ishmael away at the demand of

Sarah (Gen 21.8-14). As they wander in the wilderness of Beer-Sheba, their water is depleted.

Hager therefore leaves her son under one of the bushes and keeps some distance from him, not

wishing to witness his death; and she cries (Gen 21.15-16). The account relates that at this point

“the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven” (Gen 21.17) comforting her and assuring her

again that God will make her son a great nation (Gen 21.18). The account then mentions that

“God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went, and filled the skin with water,

and gave the boy a drink” (Gen 21.19).

Sūrat Maryam does not refer to the place to which Mary first withdrew as “wilderness,”

but rather as an “eastern place” (Q 19.16). However, like Hager who is sent away with her son

to the wilderness in her second banishment, so also Mary, after she conceived her child, she

“withdrew with him to a remote place” (Q 19.22). There, while in distress, in a manner similar

to Hagar, Mary hears a voice that comforts her and directs her to water and sustenance (Q 19.23-

26).

Expositions of the Mufassirūn

The annunciation accounts of Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān reveal a clear

discrepancy regarding the divine being(s) delivering the annunciation to Mary. As explained

above, Sūrat Maryam mentions that Allah sent his spirit who “was manifested to her as a

flawless human being” (Q 19.17), while Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān refers instead to a plurality of angels
262
that address Mary directly, without explaining their appearance (Q 3.42, 45). When Mary

responds to the annunciation in Q 3.47, she does not address angels or a plurality of addressees

but rather a singular figure as “Lord.” The text subsequently implies that Mary is answered by

the same figure, stating that “He said” (qāla) (Q 3.47b). The following sections will examine

the mufassirūn’s commentaries on these themes.

The References to a Singular Messenger and a Plurality of Angels

None of the mufassirūn used in this work discusses the discrepancy between the

reference to a sole messenger in Sūrat Maryam and a plurality of angels in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān (Q

3.42, 45). Most of these mufassirūn avoid the theme in their commentaries on Sūrat Maryam,

because they discuss it already in their preceding expositions on Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān’s reference to

the plurality of angels that address Zechariah while praying in the miḥrāb (Q 3.39). Thus,

Muqātil simply mentions in his exposition of Q 3.39 that while Zechariah was praying, there

came before him a man with a white appearance, who was Gabriel. 720 In his commentary on

the phrase “when the angels said” in Q 3.42 and Q 3.45, Muqātil states again, “he is Gabriel

alone.”721

Commenting on the phrase “so the angels called him” (fa-nādathu al-malā’ikatu, Q

3.39), al-Ṭabarī explains that there are two readings of the text. Most of the inhabitants of

Madīnah, and some of the people of Kūfah and Baṣrah, use in their reading (qirā’ah) “nādathu

al-malā’ikatu,” which refers to a plurality of angels. However, some of the Kūfah readers use

the singular masculine “nādāhu” instead of “nādathu,” in reference to Gabriel. Al-Ṭabarī

concludes that both readings are known and accepted, and that the reader would be accurate if

he follows either.722

720
Muqātil, 1:274, on Q 3.39.
721
Muqātil, 1:275-6, on Q 3.42 and Q 3.45.
722
Ṭabarī, 5:363-5, on Q 3.39.
263
 Al-Ṭabarī further explains that according to the Tafsīr tradition, the reference to

“angels” here should be understood as indicating Gabriel. As for the objection raised against

this interpretation, Al-Ṭabarī explains that it is allowed in Arabic to use a plural to speak of the

singular, as one can say that so-and-so rode mules or went on board ships while the intention is

to communicate that he rode one mule, or traveled in one ship, at a time. In this regard al-Ṭabarī

explains that Allah reports that the angels called Zechariah, and that the apparent meaning (al-

ẓāhir) of this statement is that there is a group of angels and not one single angel, while Gabriel

is a single angel. Al-Ṭabarī therefore concludes that the interpretation of the Qur’ān should not

be informed only by the apparent meaning of the words, and that in this context there is a need

for seeking the hidden meaning (al-khafy) of the words. Al-Ṭabarī subsequently reaffirms this

conclusion by pointing to a group of preceding exegetes who interpret the reference to angels

in this context as indicating Gabriel.723

Al-Zamakhsharī, in his exposition of Q 3.39, presents a very short summary of some of

the themes presented in al-Ṭabarī’s discussion. Al-Zamakhsharī merely mentions that the

phrase “the angels called him” (nādathu al-malā’ikatu) is also read as nādāhu al-malā’ikah,

and that this phrase is interpreted to mean that Gabriel called Zechariah. Al-Zamakhsharī also

adds that the reference to angels in the plural is equivalent to saying, “so-and-so rides horses.”724

Al-Razī also explains in this regard that the apparent expression (ẓāhiru al-lafẓ)

indicates that the calling came from the angels. In a manner similar to al-Ṭabarī and al-

Zamakhsharī, al-Razī argues that this plurality is equivalent to uses of the plural in Arabic that

indicate a singular. Al-Razī also provides similar examples to the ones presented by these

exegetes. He explains that when people say that so-and-so eats delicious foods and dresses in

expensive clothes, they do not mean that he eats all the kinds of food and dresses in all the kinds

of clothes (at a certain time) but rather eats a certain kind of food and dresses in a certain kind

723
Ṭabarī, 5:364-6, on Q 3.39.
724
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:163, on Q 3.39.
264
of clothes. Al-Razī introduces in this context a novel interpretation of the plural reference to

angels. He explains that if the one delivering the saying is a chief (ra’īs) then it is permissible

to speak of him in the plural, due to the presence of his companions with him. Al-Razī concludes

that since Gabriel is the chief of the angels, he is rarely sent without companionship.725

Commenting on Q 3.42, al-Rāzī explains that it is accepted in tradition that “the angels”

here refer to Gabriel alone. He also elucidates that this reference is similar to the qur’ānic verse,

“He sends down the angels by the Spirit from His command” (Q 16.2a), as he understands “the

Spirit” to mean Gabriel. Al-Rāzī further explicates that though this reading diverges from the

apparent reading (al-ẓāher), it remains the reading that one is required to accept, because the

phrase “then We sent to her Our Spirit, who was manifested to her as a flawless human being”

(Q 19.17b) indicates that Gabriel is the one who speaks with Mary.726

None of the mufassirūn used in this work expound on why after being addressed by a

plurality of angels in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān (Q 3.42, 45), Mary responds to a singular “Lord” who

seems to answer her as a singular person (Q 3.47). Only al-Ṭabarī and al-Rāzī note in passing

that Allah himself addressed Mary in Q 3.47, telling her that “Allah creates whatever He

wills.”727

The Identity of the Divine Messenger in Sūrat Maryam

The mufassirūn generally perceive it to be self-evident that the divine messenger

referred to in the phrase “We sent to her Our Spirit, who was manifested to her as a flawless

human being” (Q 19.17) is the angel Gabriel. Thus, Muqātil and al-Qummī accept axiomatically

that “Our Spirit” “means Gabriel (Jibrīl).”728 Al-Ṭabarī presents six traditions that interpret

“Our Spirit” as a reference to Gabriel.729 Al-Zamakhsharī explains that “Spirit” here refers to

725
Rāzī, 8:37-8, on Q 3.39.
726
Rāzī, 8:46-7, on Q 3.42.
727
Ṭabarī, 5:415; Rāzī, 8:58, both on Q 3.47.
728
Muqātil, 2:623; Qummī, 2:23, both on Q 19.17.
729
Ṭabarī, 15:485-486, on Q 19.17.
265
Gabriel “because the religion (al-dīn) lives through him and through his revelation (waḥy).”

Moreover, God refers to him as “Our Spirit” (rūḥana) metaphorically, out of love for him and

with the intention of making Gabriel closer to himself, “as you say to your lover: ‘you are my

spirit (rūḥy).’”730 According to a certain tradition presented by al-Zamakhsharī, rōḥana is read

with a fatḥa as rawḥana (‫)روحنا‬,

َ
731
because Gabriel is the reason behind the condition of the

spirit of the believers (rūḥ al-’ibād). Al-Zamakhsharī further explains that Gabriel is referred

to as “Our Spirit” because he is among those brought close to Allah, as the following qur’ānic

verses indicate: “Then, if he is of those brought near [to God], then [there shall be for him]

relief (rawḥ) and comfort and a garden of delights” (Q 56.88-89). Another similar explanation

that al-Zamakhsharī presents in this context is that Gabriel is one of those brought near to Allah,

and they are the ones who are “promised to receive the spirit” (maw‘ūdūna bi-al-rūḥ).732

Al-Rāzī presents a more nuanced discussion in this context, pointing out that the

mufassirūn differ in their exposition of the “spirit” (rūḥ) that God sent to Mary. He explains

that the majority of the mufassirūn argue that the “spirit” here refers to the angel Gabriel, but

that one tradition understands it to be a spirit that took the form of a man in Mary’s womb. Al-

Rāzī elucidates that the first interpretation is the more accurate, because Gabriel is called

“Spirit” since Allah said, “the faithful Spirit has descended with it [the Qur’ān] upon your heart”

(Q 26.193-194a).733 Al-Rāzī also adds that Gabriel is called “Spirit” because “he is spiritual

and, it has been said, created from the Spirit.”734

730
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:678-9, on Q 19.17.
731
Fatḥa is the diagonal stroke written above the consonant that precedes it in pronunciation and represents the
short vowel ‘a.’
732
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:679, on Q 19.17.
733
Q 26.192-4 reads as follows: “And [indeed] it is the down-sending (tanzīl) of the Lord of the worlds, the faithful
spirit has descended with it upon your heart, that you may be from [among] the warners.” The passage clearly
refers to the descent of the revelation on Muḥammad through the “faithful Spirit” which the Muslim tradition
understands to be the angel Gabriel. See Ṭabarī, 17:641-642; Rāzī, 24:165-166, both on Q 26.193.
734
Rāzī, 21:197, on Q 19.17.
266
The Qur’ānic Text and Late Antique Traditions

Considering the correspondence between various elements in the qur’ānic nativity

accounts and late antique traditions, it is reasonable to propose that pre-Islamic sources might

illuminate the qur’ānic references to the divine messengers who deliver the annunciation in

Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. This section will firstly demonstrate that “Our Spirit” (Q

19.17) in is indeed meant to indicate the angel Gabriel. It will subsequently discuss the

identification of angels with the Holy Spirit in early Christian literature. This section will finally

examine the references to angels in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān in light of the Prot. Jas. and other biblical

and post-biblical traditions.

The Identity of the Divine Messenger in Sūrat Maryam

Sūrat Maryam states that “We sent to her [Mary] Our Spirit, who was manifested to her

as a flawless human being” (Q 19.17b). The correspondence between Sūrat Maryam’s nativity

account and Luke’s Gospel reveals that the divine messenger referred to here as “Our Spirit” is

meant to be the angel Gabriel. The annunciation accounts of both texts display a clear

consonance in their structure, which they present in the following order:735

1) Introduction of Zechariah (Luke 1.5-7; Q 19.2).

2) Mention of Zechariah’s old age and the barrenness of his wife (Luke 1.7; Q 19.4-5).

3) Mention of Zechariah’s supplications for a child (Luke 1.13a; Q 19.3-6).

4) Zechariah receives the annunciation of the forthcoming birth of John the Baptist (Luke

1.13-17; Q 19.7).

5) Zechariah questions the fulfillment of the annunciation due to his old age and the old age

or the barrenness of his wife (Luke 1.18; Q 19.8).

735
I am relying here partially on Nolland’s discussion of the parallels between the annunciation to Zechariah and
the annunciation to Mary in Luke 1. See John Nolland, Luke 1:1-9:20, WBC 35a (Dallas: Word Books, 1989), 40.
267
6) Zechariah is informed that he will become mute for a period because he did not believe

the promise of the annunciation (Luke 1.20; Q 19.10b).

7) Zechariah leaves the sanctuary and encounters the crowd waiting for him outside. He

cannot speak and therefore he communicates with the crowd in gestures (Luke 1.21-22;

Q 19.11).

8) Introduction of Mary (Luke 1.27; Q 19.16).

9) God sends a divine messenger to Mary while she is alone (Luke 1.26-27; Q 19.17).

10) Mary is perplexed as she encounters the divine messenger (Luke 1.29; Q 19.18).

11) The divine messenger calms Mary (Luke 1.30; Q 19.19a).

12) The divine messenger delivers the annunciation to Mary (Luke 1.31-33; Q 19.19b, 21b).

13) Mary inquires as to how will she bear a child since she is a virgin (Luke 1.34; Q 19.20).

14) The angel explains that it is feasible for God to accomplish this matter (Luke 1.37; Q

19.21a).

The striking correspondence in the thematic structure of both annunciations indicates

that Sūrat Maryam is drawing upon the Lukan tradition.736 This also implies that the divine

messenger of Sūrat Maryam, whom God calls “Our Spirit” and whom he sends to deliver the

annunciation to Mary (Q 19.17-21), indicates none other than the angel Gabriel, depicted in

Luke’s Gospel as the announcer sent by God to Mary (Luke 1.26).

The Angel Gabriel in the Qur’ān

The conclusion that the divine messenger of Sūrat Maryam is the angel Gabriel is further

confirmed in various qur’ānic verses that use the term “spirit” of the angel Gabriel. The Qur’ān

mentions the name Gabriel only thrice: twice in Sūrat al-Baqarah (Q 2.97-98) and once in Sūrat

736
For a discussion of the correspondence between the Lukan tradition and various qur’ānic passages and the
possible mediation of the first to the latter, particularly through the Diatessaron, see Robbins, “Lukan and
Johannine Tradition in the Qur’an,” 336-68. For a discussion of the parallels and similarities between the
Diatessaron and the Qur’ān, see Jan Van Reeth, “L’Évangile du Prophète,” in Al-Kitāb: La sacralité du texte dans
le monde de l’Islam, ed. Daniel De Smet et al. (Louvain: Belgian Society of Oriental Studies, 2004), 155-174.
268
al-Taḥrīm (Q 66.4). Though none of these references assign to Gabriel the title “angel,” their

contexts clearly imply that they refer to the angel Gabriel. In Sūrat al-Taḥrīm, Gabriel appears

in a passage that seems to be addressing two of Muḥammad’s wives, stating: “If you both repent

to Allah, then your hearts are already inclined, but if you collude against him [Muḥammad],

then Allah is his protector, and Gabriel, and the righteous among the believers, and the angels

are furthermore supporters” (Q 66.4). Regardless of the general context of the verse or its

specific meaning, it is clear that the name “Gabriel” here designates the angel Gabriel as he is

immediately mentioned after Allah, and before the righteous believers and the angels. The

designation of Gabriel after Allah and in a separate category from the rest of the angels is clearly

meant to indicate the importance of his angelic rank.

A similar reference to Gabriel is found in Sūrat al-Baqarah, which states, “Whoever is

an enemy to Allah and his angels and messengers and Gabriel and Michael, then Allah is an

enemy to the disbelievers” (Q 2.98). As in Q 66.4, the mention of Gabriel after “Allah and his

angels and messengers” indicates that Gabriel holds an elevated angelic position. This is further

confirmed by the affiliation of Gabriel with Michael.

The construct “Gabriel and Michael” was common in ancient Jewish literature. Gabriel

and Michael are the only two angels named in the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament.737

Daniel is the sole book in the Hebrew Bible that mentions these angels. It refers to Gabriel as

“having the appearance of a man” (Dan 8.15) and as “the man Gabriel” (Dan 9.21) and relates

that he interpreted two visions for Daniel (Dan 8.15-26; 9.20-27).738 The book of Daniel

mentions Michael three times. Michael is first referred to as “one of the chief princes” (Dan

10.13). Michael is subsequently referred to as “your prince” (Dan 10.21) and “the great prince,

the protector of your people” (Dan 12.1). Both latter references reveal the book’s depiction of

737
Duane Watson, “Angels (New Testament),” ABD, I:254. I am not referring here to the apocryphal writings that
name other angels.
738
For the angel Gabriel in the book of Daniel, see Aleksander Michalak, Angels as Warriors in Late Second
Temple Jewish Literature (Tübingen, Germany: Mohr Siebeck, 2012), 124-5.
269
Michael as the angel of the Jewish people, since both address Daniel. The first two references

to Michael depict him as contending with spiritual forces (Dan 10.13, 21) and the last reference

refers to his role in the eschaton (Dan 12.1).739

Gabriel and Michael are mentioned in separate books of the New Testament. Gabriel is

mentioned only in the Gospel of Luke, where he is depicted as the angel who gives the

annunciation to Zechariah and Mary. In these accounts Gabriel is explicitly identified as an

angel (Luke 1.19, 26). Michael is mentioned in the Epistle of Jude, which relates that “the

archangel Michael contended with the devil and disputed about the body of Moses” (Jude 1.9).

The book of Revelation also describes an eschatological war between “Michael and his angels”

and the devil and his angels (Rev 12.7-9).740 The high office that both angels possess in the

angelic hierarchy is indicated in these references. Gabriel refers to himself as continuously

standing “in the presence of God” (Luke 1.19). Michael is identified as an “archangel

(ἀρχάγγελος)” (Jude 1.9), and the reference to the angels who are with him as “his angels” (Rev

12.7-9), indicates his leadership over them.741

The angels Gabriel and Michael are associated in various Second-Temple Jewish

apocalyptic traditions. Among the Dead Sea Scrolls, a scroll known as The War Scroll refers to

both angels in the context of the eschatological war:

They shall write on all the shields of the towers: on the first, Michael, [on the

second, Gabriel, on the third,] Sariel, and on the fourth, Raphael. Michael and

Gabriel [shall stand on the right, and Sariel and Raphael on the left] … they shall

set an ambush …742

739
For archangel Michael in the book of Daniel, see ibid., 101-7. For Michael’s role as the guardian of Israel and
as a leader of the heavenly hosts in the book of Daniel and other Jewish apocalyptic literature, see Darrell Hannah,
Michael and Christ: Michael Traditions and Angel Christology in Early Christianity (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
1999), 33-42.
740
For Michael in the book of Revelation, see Michalak, Angels as Warriors, 121-4. For a discussion of the
references to Michael in Revelation 12, Jude, and other ambiguous references that might indicate him, see Hannah,
Michael and Christ, 127-37.
741
Ibid., 123.
742
The War Scroll (IQM, IQ33,4Q491-7,4Q471), IX.15, as translated in CDSSE, 174.
270
Another fragment in The Book of War mentions “because of Thy name and ... Michael,

G[abrie]l, [Sariel and Raphael] ... .”743 A third fragment among these scrolls describes Michael

as showing a vision to Gabriel, who seems to relate another vision. 744 Similar references are

also found in the book of 1 Enoch that emphasizes the proximity of Gabriel and Michael to God

and their high rank among the rest of the angels, and it portrays them as joining forces in certain

assignments.745

Certain rabbinic texts also assign to both angels collaborative work. The targumic

tosefta on Isaiah presents an oracle against Babylon in which God charges the chief angels

Michael and Gabriel with the task of handing the Babylonian empire over to the Medes and the

Persians.746 Schemot Rabbah identifies Michael and Gabriel as the defenders of the walls of

Jerusalem, relating that when Sennacherib’s army surrounded Jerusalem, God commanded

Michael to “descend upon the camp of the Assyrians” and Gabriel “on the camp of the

Chaldeans.”747 Both angels appear alongside one another also in the inscriptions found on

Jewish-Babylonian incantation bowels. One of these inscriptions attributes to both angels the

destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah: “In the name of Gabriel and Michael: you are the two

angels whom Yahweh Sebaoth sent to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah.”748 The phrase “in the

743
See The Book of War (4Q285, fr. 1), as translated in CDSSE, 188.
744
See Words of the Archangel Michael (4Q529, 6Q23), as translated in CDSSE, 556.
745
1 Enoch mentions both angels first, along with Sariel and Raphael, as witnessing the corruption of the earth and
then protesting concerning it before God (1 En. 9.1-11). It also relates that in one of the visions of Enoch, he sees
how “Michael and Raphael and Gabriel and Phanuel” will throw the host of Azazel into the burning furnace on
judgement day (1 En. 54.6). In a subsequent vision in which Enoch ascends to heaven spiritually, he sees the
heavenly palace surrounded by tens of thousands of angels, as “Michael and Raphael and Gabriel and Phanuel”
and the holy angels who (are in) the heights of heaven, were going in and out in that house” (1 En. 71.5-8). In the
same vision Enoch mentions that he saw that the “Head of Days came with Michael and Raphael and Gabriel and
Phanuel, and thousands and tens of thousands of angels without number” (1 En. 71.13). Gabriel and Michael are
also mentioned in two lists of seven and four archangels that define the task of each angel (1 En. 20.1-8; 40.9-10).
746
Rimon Kasher, trans., Toseftot targum la-Neviʼim (Hebrew) (Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies: 1996),
156. The text comments on Isaiah 21.5: “They prepare the table, they spread the rugs, they eat, they drink. Rise
up, commanders, oil the shield!” The Targum interprets the reference to the table as indicating the table in the feast
of Belteshazzar the king of Babylon (Dan 5).
747
Simon Lehrman, trans., Midrash Rabbah: Exodus (London: Soncino-Press, 1939), XVIII.5, p. 220. The
construct “Michael and Gabriel” appears four times in this context; see 220 and 222.
748
For the Aramaic text see Cyrus Gordon, “Aramaic Incantation Bowls (Concluded),” OR 10 (1941): 350. The
translation is taken from Michalak, Angels as Warriors, 129.
271
name of Gabriel and Michael” or “by the name of Gabriel and Michael” is used in numerous

incantations and oaths found on these bowels.749

Origen refers to both angels in the same context. In On First Principles, Origen

describes the duties assigned to each angel in this way: “The supervising of wars [is assigned]

to Gabriel; the task of attending to the prayers and supplication of mortals to Michael.”750 When

discussing the presence of Christ in the apostles and angels, Origen states:

[I]t is absurd to say that Christ was in Peter and in Paul, but that he was not in

Michael the archangel and in Gabriel. … We must, however, bear in mind this

one difference, that although he is present in various individuals such as those

we have mentioned, Peter, Paul, Michael or Gabriel, he is not present in all

beings whatsoever in the same degree.751

Ephrem the Syrian also refers to both angels in the same context when he writes:

Gabriel – that head of the angels – called Him [Jesus] Lord.

He called Him Lord to teach that He is his Lord and not his equal.

For Gabriel, Michael is equal.752

All these references imply that the “Gabriel and Michael” mentioned in Q 2.98 after “Allah and

his angels and messengers” are in fact the angels Gabriel and Michael.

The Angel Gabriel as a Spirit in the Qur’ān and the Sīra

Sūrat Maryam’s reference to the divine messenger as God’s spirit (Q 19.17b) is in

agreement with other qur’ānic passages calling Gabriel a “spirit.” Besides the above discussed

749
See for example Dan Levene, Jewish Aramaic Curse Texts from Late-Antique Mesopotamia: “May These
Curses Go Out and Flee” (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 22, 23, 47, 58, 65 and 109.
750
Origen, On First Principles, trans. George Butterworth (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 2013), Book I, Ch.
VIII:1, p. 85.
751
Ibid., Book IV, Ch. IV:2, p. 419. Italics mine.
752
HNat, XXI, 22.1-3, as translated in McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 178.
272
reference to Gabriel in Q 2.98, Sūrat al-Baqarah describes Gabriel also in the previous verse

stating:

Say: “Who is an enemy to Gabriel?” For [it is] he [who had] brought it down

(nazzalahu) upon your heart by Allah’s leave, confirming that which was between

its two hands and a guidance and glad tidings for the believers (Q 2.97).

The reference here is clearly to the angel Gabriel, believed in the Muslim tradition to have

brought down the revelation of the Qur’ān on Muḥammad.753 Sūrat al-Shu‘arā’ contains a

similar text:

And [surely] it is the down-sending (tanzīl) of the Lord of the worlds. The

faithful Spirit came down (nazala) with it upon your heart, that you may be from

[among] the warners. In a plain Arabic tongue. And [Indeed] it is [found] in the

Scriptures of the progenitors (Q 26.192-196).

The text clearly communicates the notion of the sending of the Qur’ān as a revelation in Arabic

from God to Muḥammad. The role of “the faithful Spirit” in this context – bringing down the

qur’ānic revelation on Muḥammad’s heart – is identical to that explicitly ascribed to Gabriel in

Q 2.97. Sūrat al-Naḥl contains a paragraph that demonstrates correspondence with both these

latter texts:

And when We substitute a verse in place of a verse, and Allah knows better of

what he sends down (yunzilu). They said indeed you are [but] a fabricator, but

most of them do not know. Say, “The Holy Spirit had brought it down

(nazzalahu) from your Lord in the truth to sustain those who believed and as

guidance and good tidings to the Muslims.” And We know that they say, “Surely

a human teaches him.” The tongue of the one they point to, disbelieving, is

foreign and this is a plain Arabic tongue (Q 16.101-103).

753
Gabriel Reynolds, “Gabriel,” EQ, II: 278.
273
The exact meaning of these qur’ānic references to Gabriel as “the faithful Spirit” (Q 26.193) or

as “the Holy Spirit” (Q 16.102) is not clear. They indicate however that the Qur’ān understands

Gabriel to be a spirit in one way or another.754

The Qur’ān alludes to Gabriel by the term “spirit” in three further references. Two of

ْ as ascending to or standing before God

ُّ ‫”)ال َم ََلئِ َكةُ َو‬
these describe “the angels and the Spirit (‫الرو ُح‬

at the final judgment (Q 70.4; 78.38).755 The third reference describes the descent of “the angels

and the Spirit” (Q 97.4) on the night of decree (Q 97.1). In the same way that Q 2.98 and Q

66.4 single out “Gabriel” from other angels, the three preceding references single out “the Spirit

(al-rūḥ)” from the rest of the angels. The description of the angel Gabriel as a “Spirit” is

confirmed in the Sīra tradition. Thus, in his discussion of “the descending of the revelation upon

Muḥammad,” Ibn Sa‘d relates an interpretation according to which the “Holy Spirit” mentioned

in Q 2.87 “is Gabriel (Jibrīl).”756 This identification of Gabriel with the Holy Spirit is further

affirmed in the Tafsīr tradition.757

The Identification of Angels with the Holy Spirit in Early Christian Literature

The correspondence between Sūrat Maryam’s nativity account and Luke’s Gospel

illustrated earlier, clearly indicates that the former draws upon the Lukan tradition. However,

the reference to the angel Gabriel as “Our Spirit” does not correspond with Luke’s references

to Gabriel. This indicates that, besides the Lukan tradition, Sūrat Maryam is in conversation

with other traditions that use the term “spirit” for Gabriel.

The first reference to angels as spirits in Jewish tradition is found in Psalm 104 which

speaks of God, “Who makes his angels (‫ )מַ לְ אָ כָיו‬spirits (‫ ;)רּוחֹות‬his servants flaming fire.”758 The

754
Gabriel Reynolds, “Gabriel,” EI3 (2014), no. 3, 127. The Qur’ān uses the term “spirit” in various other contexts
in which it does not indicate the angel Gabriel, as in its reference to Jesus as a spirit from God (Q 4.171). See
Sidney Griffith, “Holy Spirit,” EQ, II: 443.
755
Q 78.38 mentions “the Spirit and the angels.”
756
Muḥammad ibn Sa‘d, Kitāb al-Tabaqāt al-Kabīr, vol. 1 (Cairo: Maktabat al-Khangi, 2001), 164.
757
See Griffith, “Holy Spirit,” 442.
758
Translation mine.
274
author of the Epistle to the Hebrews cites this verse, stating, “And of the angels He says, “Who

makes his angels (ἀγγέλους) spirits (πνεύματα), and his servants a flame of fire” (Heb 1:7).759

Subsequently, the same author asks,

But to which of the angels (τῶν ἀγγέλων) has he ever said, “Sit at my right hand

until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet”?

Are they not all ministering spirits (πνεύματα), sent forth to serve for the sake

of those who will inherit salvation? (Heb 1:13-14).760

The Hebrew word ַַ‫ רּוח‬and the Greek word πνεύμα both carry the twin meanings of wind and

spirit.761 But in these contexts, ‫רּוחֹות‬/πνεύματα most likely mean “spirits,” since angels are

understood in biblical literature to be spiritual beings and not mere winds.

The Dead Sea Scrolls reveal that the word ‫ רוח‬in the Qumran literature extends to

spiritual beings in general, including spirits, demons, and angels.762 In the following discussion

I will demonstrate that certain early Christian and Jewish-Christian writings also use the terms

“spirit” and “angel” interchangeably. I will firstly examine the possibility that the book of

Revelation uses the terms “spirits” and “angels” interchangeably. Subsequently, I will analyze

the Shepherd of Hermas, which identifies the Holy Spirit with an angelic figure called “the

angel of the prophetic spirit.” This identification will be compared with targumic literature and

the texts of Justin Martyr, which also use the terms “Holy Spirit” and “prophetic spirit”

interchangeably. Finally, I will show that the Ascension of Isaiah also identifies the “angel of

the Holy Spirit” with the angel Gabriel.

Angels and Spirits in the Book of Revelation

The author of Revelation begins his work by addressing seven churches in Asia, saying:

759
Translation mine.
760
Translation mine.
761
See DCH, VII: 427-40.
762
Maxwell Davidson, Angels at Qumran: A Comparative Study of 1 Enoch 1-36; 72-108 and Sectarian Writings
from Qumran (Sheffield, England: JSOT Press, 1992), 155-6; Michael Mach, “Angels,” EDSS, I: 25.
275
 Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and

from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, the

faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth

(Rev 1.4-5a).763

Some scholars interpret the “seven spirits who are before the throne” as the divine Spirit of God

or the Holy Spirit. The invocation of grace and peace is given from God the Father, “him who

is and who was and is to come” (Rev 1.4), and from “Jesus Christ” (Rev 1.5). Therefore, since

the same invocation comes also “from the seven spirits who are before his throne” (Rev 1.4),

these seven spirits are understood as referring to the Holy Spirit.764 Other scholars argue that

this Trinitarian reading of the text cannot be established since the books of the New Testament

contain passages that refer only to the “Father” and the “Son” without mentioning the Holy

Spirit.765

The book of Revelation, in addition to the initial reference in Revelation 1.4, speaks of

the “seven spirits” three more times. The second reference is found in the address to the angel

of the church of Sardis stating, “These are the words of him who has the seven spirits of God

and the seven stars” (Rev 3.1). The two other references appear in the context of the throne of

God. The third reference mentions that “in front of the throne burn seven flaming torches, which

763
Italics mine.
764
See for example Charles Gieschen, Angelomorphic Christology: Antecedents and Early Evidence (Leiden: Brill,
1998), 263; Leon Morris, The Book of Revelation: An Introduction and Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI:
Eerdmans, 1987), 49. Bauckham interprets the “seven spirits” as a symbol of the divine spirit arguing that the
author of Revelation is presenting in this context an exegesis of Zechariah 4.1-14. See Richard Bauckham, The
Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 110-15.
765
See for example Robert Mounce, The Book of Revelation (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), 46-7. Mounce
points out to the reference in the First Epistle to Timothy, where Paul commands Timothy to follow certain
instructions “in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus and of the elect angels” (1 Tim 5.21a). He also indicates
that the Gospel of Luke attributes to Jesus the following statement, “Those who are ashamed of me and of my
words, of them the Son of Man will be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the
holy angels” (Luke 9.26). Mounce’s argument is however more supported by other references in the same context
of Rev 1.4-5a that indicate God the Father and Christ without alluding to the Holy Spirit. This is clear in the
opening statement of Revelation, “The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants what
must soon take place; he made it known by sending his angel to his servant John, who testified to the word of God
and to the testimony of Jesus Christ, even to all that he saw” (Rev 1.1-2). A subsequent reference mentions, “To
him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God
and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen” (Rev 1.5b-6).
276
are the seven spirits of God” (Rev 4.5). In the fourth reference the author states, “I saw between

the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders a Lamb standing as if it had been

slaughtered, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out

into all the earth” (Rev 5.6).

Scholars have argued for a correspondence between the association of these “seven

spirits” with the throne of God (Rev 4.5, 5.6) and the subsequent references to “the seven angels

who stand before God” (Rev 8.2). Revelation portrays the same seven angels as coming out of

“the temple of the tent of witness in heaven ... with the seven plagues” (Rev 15.5-6), as they

were given “seven golden bowls full of the wrath of God” (Rev 15.7). The seven angels are

then commanded by a voice from the heavenly temple, “Go and pour out on the earth the seven

bowls of the wrath of God” (Rev 16.1). The portrayal of these seven angels as going out from

the presence of God in the heavenly temple to pour God’s judgement on the earth has led some

scholars to suggest their identification with “the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth”

(Rev 5.6).766

Another association between “the seven spirits” and “the seven angels” has been made

on the bases of Revelation 3.1. Thus, the author of Revelation mentions that he saw a character

whom he describes as “one like the Son of Man” (Rev 1.13) holding in his right hand “seven

stars” (Rev 1.16). This character subsequently explains to John that “the seven stars are the

angels of the seven churches” (Rev 1.20). However, as mentioned above, the address to the

angel of the church of Sardis contains the statement, “These are the words of him who has the

seven spirits of God and the seven stars” (Rev 3.1). Therefore, if the “seven stars” are the “seven

angels,” then Revelation 3.1 is referring to the same group of beings by two different names:

“the seven spirits of God” and “the seven angels.” However, the assertion that “the seven

766
Schweizer and Bruce suggest this reading but do not affirm it. See Eduard Schweizer, “πνεῦμα,
πνευματικός,” TDNT 6:450; Schweizer, “Die sieben Geister in der Apokalypse,” EvTh 11 (1951/52): 506;
Frederick Bruce, “The Spirit in the Apocalypse,” in Christ and Spirit in the New Testament: Studies in Honour of
Charles Francis Digby Moule, ed. Barnabas Lindars and Stephen Smalley (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1973), 333-44.
277
spirits” are identical with “the seven angels” can be made only if the “and” connecting “the

seven spirits of God” and “the seven stars” in this phrase (Rev 3.1) is epexegetic and not

copulative, which seems to be more likely.767 It is therefore reasonable to conclude that though

the “seven spirits” and the “seven angels” are associated in the book of Revelation, it is difficult

to establish that these entities are identical.768

The Shepherd of Hermas

The Shepherd of Hermas was one of the most popular works in the early Church being

distributed and read more than any other noncanonical book in the second and third centuries.

It is not clear whether this book was written as a unified work by one author or whether it is

composed of several works by different authors. The historical, theological, and ecclesiastical

themes presented and discussed in the Shepherd suggest that it was written over a period of

time during the first half of the second century, possibly between 100 and 140 CE.769

The Shepherd recounts the visions, commandments, and parables given to the narrator

of the account, who refers to himself as Hermas, a freed slave. Hermas receives his first four

visions from an elderly woman who appears in different guises. In the fifth vision, the book

introduces an angelic figure referred to as “the Shepherd,” who becomes Hermas’ guide

throughout the rest of the account. The Shepherd then delivers to Hermas twelve

commandments and ten parables, some of which contain revelations and visions.770

The Shepherd introduces numerous angelomorphic figures, some of which are

Christological, others are ecclesiastical, but most have a pneumatic character.771 Of these

767
Mounce, The Book of Revelation, 47.
768
Bauckham for example explains that the term “spirit” could be used of angels, as is clearly the case in the Dead
Sea Scrolls. He however argues that “spirit” is never used in the book of Revelation to mean “angel.” See
Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 110.
769
Bart Ehrman, trans., The Shepherd of Hermas, in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. II (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 2003), 162, 165-9.
770
Ibid., 162-5.
771
For a discussion of these angelomorphic figures see Gieschen, Angelomorphic Christology, 215-8.
278
angelomorphic figures, the one relevant to our discussion is “the angel of the prophetic spirit.”

This angelic figure is mentioned only once in the Shepherd, in the eleventh commandment. The

main theme of this commandment is the discernment of the true and false prophets. The false

prophet is described as a deceiver “having within himself no power of the divine spirit (πνεύμα-

τος θείου),” but rather “the devil (διάβολος) fills him with his own spirit.”772 The spirit of the

false prophet is a “spirit that, when consulted, speaks in light of human desires” and “is earthly

and insubstantial, having no power.”773 When Hermas asks how to discern between the false

and the true prophet, the Shepherd states the following:

You must discern the person with the divine spirit (τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ θεῖον) by his

way of life. First, the one who has the spirit that comes from above (τὸ πνεῦμα

τὸ ἄνωθεν) is meek, gentle, and humble; he abstains from all evil and the vain

desire of this age; he makes himself more lowly than all others; and he never

gives an answer to anyone when asked, nor does he speak in private. The holy

spirit (τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ ἅγιον) does not speak when the person wants to speak, but

when God wants him to speak. When, then, the person who has the divine spirit

(τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ θεῖον) comes into a gathering of upright men who have the faith

of the divine spirit (θείου πνεύματος), and a petition comes to God from the

upright men who are gathered together, then the angel of the prophetic spirit (ὁ

ἄγγελος τοῦ πνεύματος τοῦ προφητικοῦ) lying upon that person fills him; and

once he is filled, that one speaks in the holy spirit (τῷ πνεύματι τῷ ἁγίῳ) to the

congregation, just as the Lord desires.774

The “angel of the prophetic spirit” in this text should not be understood as another one

of the angelic beings mentioned in the Shepherd. This angel seems rather to be synonymous

772
The Shepherd of Hermas, 43.2-3, [pp. 284-5].
773
Ibid., 43.6, [p. 287].
774
Ibid., 43:7-9, [pp. 286-9].
279
with the Holy Spirit, referred to fifteen times in this chapter mainly as the divine spirit.775 The

text indicates this by stating that the true prophet is “the one who has the divine spirit” and by

subsequently affirming that “the angel of the prophetic spirit lying upon that person fills him

(πληροῖ); and once he is filled (πλησθεὶσ), that one speaks in the holy spirit to the

congregation.”776 The description of the activity of “the angel of the prophetic spirit” as one of

“filling” is a further indication that this angel is the Holy Spirit. The New Testament never

refers to angels, but only the Holy Spirit, as “filling” people. The derivatives of the verb πλήθω,

used in this context to describe the angel’s activity upon the person, are used throughout the

New Testament to describe the filling of individuals by the Holy Spirit.777

The conclusion that “the angel of the prophetic spirit” means the Holy Spirit is further

confirmed by the fact that the term “prophetic spirit” was used in targumic and Christian

literature in reference to the Holy Spirit. Thus, when the Hebrew word ַַ‫( רּוח‬spirit) is associated

with God in the Hebrew Bible, the Targums often render it by adding a qualifier. In most cases

ַַ‫ רּוח‬is rendered as ‫( רּוחַ ַקּודשָ א‬Holy Spirit), ‫( רּוחַַ נְ בּואָ ה‬prophetic spirit), or as ‫בּורא‬
ָ ְ‫( רּוחַַ ג‬mighty

spirit), depending on the context.778 The fact that ‫ רּוחַ ַקּודשָ א‬and ‫ רּוחַַ נְ בּואָ ה‬are both equivalent

renditions of the same word, ַַ‫רּוח‬, indicates that the terms “Holy Spirit” and “prophetic spirit”

are synonymous in the mind of the translators of these Targums.

The interchangeability of “the prophetic Spirit” and “the Holy Spirit” is further

suggested in the works of Justin Martyr, who mentions “the prophetic Spirit” (πνεῦμά τε

775
The text uses the phrase “the Holy Spirit” (τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ ἅγιον; τῷ πνεύματι τῷ ἁγίῳ) (43.8, 9) twice. But it
mostly refers to “the divine spirit” in various ways in Greek: πνεύρατος θείον (43.2); τοῦ θείου πνεύματος (43.5);
τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ θεῖον (43.7, 9); θείου πνεύματος (43.9) τὸ πνεῦμα τῆς θεότητος (43.10); πνεῦμα θεῖον (43.12);
πνεῦμα θεότητος (43.14). The Holy Spirit is also referred to as a “spirit given by God” (πνεῦμα ἀπὸ θεοῦ δοθὲν)
(43.5); “the spirit that comes from above” (τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ ἄνωθεν) (43.8); “the divine spirit of the Lord” (τοῦ
πνεύματος τῆς θεότητος τοῦ κυρίου) (43.10); “the spirit that comes from God” (τῷ πνεύματι τῷ ἐρχομένῳ ἀπὸ τοῦ
θεοῦ) (43.17); and “the divine spirit that comes from above” (τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ θεῖον ἄνωθεν ἐρχόρενον) (43.21).
776
The Shepherd of Hermas, 43.9, [pp. 286-9]; Gieschen, Angelomorphic Christology, 218.
777
See Luke 1.15, 41, 67; 4.1; Acts 2.4, 4.8, 31, 6.3, 5, 7.55, 9.17, 11.24, 13.9, 52; Eph 5.18.
778
For a discussion of these versions of “spirit” in the Targums see Pere Casanellas, “The Use of the Expressions
‘Prophetic Spirit’ and ‘Holy Spirit’ in the Targum and the Dating of the Targums,” AS 11, no. 2 (2013): 167–186;
Peter Schäfer, “‘Geist der Prophetie’ in den Targumim und das Verhältnis der Targumim Zueinander,” VT 20
(1970): 304-314.
280
προφητικὸν) numerous times in his writings.779 Justin refers to “the prophetic Spirit” in certain

cases as “the holy prophetic spirit,” indicating that both adjectives refer to the same spirit. 780

Justin also uses the terms “prophetic spirit” and “Holy Spirit” interchangeably, as is clear from

the following passage:

But now, return to the original topic and prove to us that the prophetic Spirit

ever admits the existence of another God, besides the Creator of all things; and

do be careful not to mention the sun and moon, which, Scripture tells us, God

permitted the Gentiles to worship as gods. … To convince us of this the Holy

Spirit said through David, The gods of the Gentiles [although reputed as gods]

are idols of demons, and not gods.781

Furthermore, Justin refers to “the prophetic spirit” in clear Trinitarian contexts, alongside God

“the Father” and Jesus Christ “the Son,” such that “the prophetic spirit” can only indicate the

Holy Spirit. For instance, Justin speaks of “Jesus Christ … the son of the true God, and we hold

him in second place, with the prophetic Spirit the third rank.”782 Finally, Justin refers to “the

prophetic Spirit” as the spirit that inspired the authors of the scriptures and foretold future

events,783 functions which he also attributes to the Holy Spirit.784

The Shepherd of Hermas, therefore, does not merely refer to angels as spirits but rather

specifically identifies the Holy Spirit as an angel. This identification is congruent with Sūrat

Maryam’s depiction of God as referring to the divine messenger whom he sends to Mary as

779
See Dial. 32.2; 38.2; 43.3, 4; 49.6; 53.4; 55.1; 56.5; 84.2; 91.4; 139.1; I Apol. 6.2; 13.3; 31.1; 31.1; 32.2; 33.5;
35.3; 38.1; 39.1; 40.1, 5; 41.1; 42.1; 44.1, 11; 47.1; 48.4; 53.4, 6; 59.1; 60.8; 63.12, 14.
780
See Dial. 32.3; I Apol. 44.1; 53.6 (τὸ ἅγιον προφητικὸν πνεῦμα). Justin also refers to “the prophetic spirit” as
“the divine, holy, prophetic spirit” (τοῦ θείου ἁγίου προφητικοῦ πνεύματoς) (I Apol. 32.2).
781
Dial. 55.1-2. Italics mine. See also Dial. 84.1-2, where Justin mentions that the Holy Spirit alludes to the
virginal birth of Jesus (Dial. 84.1) and then adds subsequently that this event was foretold by “the prophetic spirit”
(Dial. 84.2).
782
I Apol. 13.3. See also I Apol. 60.5-8. For explicit references to “the Father” and “the Son” in a Trinitarian
context see I Apol. 63.10-15.
783
See Dial. 32.2; 43.3, 4; 53.4; 55.1; 56.5; 84.2; 91.4; I Apol. 31.1; 33.2, 5; 35.3; 38.1; 39.1; 40.1, 5; 41.1; 42.1;
44.1, 11; 47.1; 48.4; 53.4, 6; 59.1; 60.8; 63.12.
784
See Dial. 7.1; 25.1; 33.2; 34.1; 36.2; 36.6; 37.2; 52.1; 54.1; 55.2; 56.3, 14, 15; 61.1; 73.2; 74.2; 77.4; 78.8;
84.1; 114.1, 2; 115.4; 124.1, 4; I Apol. 61.13. 2 Pet 1:20-21 clearly refers to the role of the Holy Spirit in the
inspiration of scriptures.
281
“Our Spirit” (Q 19.17) indicating his intimate connection with this spirit. Nevertheless, the

Shepherd does not specifically associate the angel Gabriel with the Spirit of God or the Holy

Spirit. Such identification is rather found in an implicit way in the second-century work of the

Ascension of Isaiah.

The Ascension of Isaiah

The Ascension of Isaiah is an early Jewish-Christian pseudepigraphal apocalypse that

originated in Syria between 112 CE and 138 CE.785 The work was originally composed in Greek

and translated into Ethiopic, Latin, Coptic, and Slavonic. Only the Ethiopic translation, which

was produced between the fourth and sixth centuries, preserves the entire text, of which only a

fragmentary text survives in Greek.786

The Ascension is made of two main parts. The first part, chapters 1-5, is largely a

narrative of the persecution of the righteous believers and the martyrdom of Isaiah during the

reign of King Manasseh. This part also contains a Christian eschatological prophecy that will

be referred to here as the First Vision of Isaiah (Asc. 3.13-4.22) and which describes four

periods: The period of the coming of “the Beloved,” one of titles for Jesus, from the seventh

heaven, his persecution, crucifixion, burial, and finally his resurrection (Asc. 3.13-18);787 the

apostolic period as an age of signs and miracles (Asc. 3.19-20); the post-apostolic era as an age

785
For a presentation of the different dates suggested for the composition of the work and the suggestion of this
specific period and provenance, see Jonathan Knight, Disciples of the Beloved One: The Christology, Social
Setting and Theological Context of the Ascension of Isaiah (Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996),
33-9.
786
Michael Knibb, “Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah,” in OTP, vol. II, 144.
787
Scholars agree concerning this twofold structure of the Ascension of Isaiah. They offer, however, different
views regarding the various sections that constitute these parts and also regarding their authorship: whether the
work was written by one author or by different authors and compiled by one editor. For these themes see ibid., 13-
17, 28-32. For a basic discussion of the Christology of the Ascension, see Jonathan Knight, The Ascension of Isaiah
(Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996), 79-86. For a detailed examination of the theme, see Knight,
Disciples of the Beloved One, 71-185. Knight also explains that Jesus was the temporary appearance of “the
Beloved,” a title that refers to the pre-Incarnate Christ. See ibid., 135-45. For phrases in the Ascension that suggest
this view, see for example the following: “And the one who turned to you, this is your LORD, the LORD, the LORD
Christ, who is to be called in the world Jesus but you cannot hear his name until you have come up from this body”
(Asc. 9.5); “The LORD will indeed descend into the world in the last days, (he) who is to be called Christ after he
has descended and become like you in form, and they will think that he is flesh and a man” (Asc. 9.13).
282
of corruption and departure from the teaching and moral example of the apostles (Asc. 3.21-

31); and finally, the persecution of the Church, followed by the Parousia (Asc. 4.1-22). The

second part, chapters 6-11, relates the Second Vision of Isaiah which focuses on Isaiah’s

mystical ascent through the seven heavens.

The Angel of the Holy Spirit in the Ascension of Isaiah

Isaiah encounters in the Ascension three main figures: the primal Father (also called the

“Great Glory”), the Beloved (also called “Jesus” and “Christ”), and the angel of the Holy Spirit.

The Ascension indicates in various ways that the angel of the Holy Spirit is meant to be the

Holy Spirit. This is first suggested by the fact that the work deeply associates the angel of the

Holy Spirit with Christ and the primal Father. Thus, when speaking to King Hezekiah, Isaiah

refers to the three divine beings in these words: “As the Lord lives whose name has not been

transmitted to this world, and as the Beloved of my Lord lives, and as the Spirit which speaks

in me lives, all these commands and these words will have no effect on Manasseh your son”

(Asc. 1.7). The Ascension subsequently mentions that in the second heaven, Isaiah “rejoiced

very much that those who love the Most High and his Beloved will at their end go up there

through the angel of the Holy Spirit” (Asc. 7.23).

These three divine beings are not only associated with one another, but they are

distinguished from all other cosmic beings as transcending them.788 Thus, when Isaiah is taken

to the second heaven, he falls on his face to worship the angel sitting on the throne; but the

angelus interpres instructs him, saying, “Worship neither throne, nor angel from the six heavens

from where I was sent to lead you, before I tell you in the seventh heaven” (Asc. 7.21).

Afterwards, when Isaiah is taken to the seventh heaven, he worships Christ (Asc. 9.31-32) and

788
Loren Stuckenbruck, “The Holy Spirit in the Ascension of Isaiah,” in The Holy Spirit and Christian
Origins: Essays in Honor of James D. G. Dunn, ed. Graham Stanton et al. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004),
309.
283
subsequently he worships the angel of the Holy Spirit (Asc. 9.36). The angelus interpres even

instructs Isaiah to “worship him, for this is the angel of the Holy Spirit” (Asc. 9.36). This

instruction presents a clear reversal of the preceding command to “worship neither throne, nor

angel from the six heavens” (Asc. 7.21) indicating that the angel of the Holy Spirit is

distinguished from the rest of the angels.789

The angel of the Holy Spirit is further presented as almost equivalent to Christ. The

Ascension presents a clear parallelism between Isaiah’s worship of both figures.790 Both scenes

describe Isaiah as first seeing a glorious being (Asc. 9.27, 33), and then witnessing the righteous

worshiping and praising him as Isaiah joins them in praising him (Asc. 9.28, 33). Subsequently,

the angels also approach and worship Christ (Asc. 9.29) and the angel of the Holy Spirit (Asc.

9.34). The similarity between both divine beings is further indicated in this context, for in an

analogous manner to the Holy Spirit who is described as an angel, so also Christ, after being

worshiped, “was transformed and became like an angel” (Asc. 9.30). Both scenes end with the

angelus interpres’ instruction to Isaiah to worship the divine being while identifying him (Asc.

9.31-32, 36).791 Afterwards Christ and the angel of the Holy Spirit both approach the Father and

worship him (Asc. 9.40). Subsequently, when Isaiah hears and sees all the praise given to the

Father from the beings of the first six heavens, also “the LORD (Christ) and the angel of the

Spirit heard everything and saw everything” (Asc. 10.1-4). Isaiah finally witnesses how, after

his resurrection, Christ ascends to the seventh heaven and sits at the right hand of the Father,

while the angel of the Holy Spirit sits at his left hand (Asc. 11.32-33).

The superiority of the Father, Christ, and the angel of the Holy Spirit to all other beings,

and their association with one another in the Ascension, indicates that the work means to present

the three persons of the Christian doctrine of the Trinity. This therefore also reveals that the

789
Loren Stuckenbruck, “Worship and Monotheism in the Ascension of Isaiah,” in The Jewish
Roots of Christological Monotheism. Papers from the St. Andrews Conference on the Historical Origins of
the Worship of Jesus, ed. Carey Newman et al. (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 78-80.
790
Ibid., 80-81.
791
The “Beloved” or “Christ” is referred to in this context as “the LORD of all praise” (Asc. 9.32).
284
angel of the Holy Spirit is meant to be the person of the Holy Spirit. This conclusion is further

implied by the Ascension’s association of the Holy Spirit with Christ and the Father in the same

way it associates the angel of the Holy Spirit with them. Thus, when Isaiah ascends to the sixth

heaven, he sings praise with the angels and witnesses how “there they all named the primal

Father and his Beloved, Christ, and the Holy Spirit, all with one voice” (Asc. 8.18). The

Ascension, nonetheless, clearly diverges from the trinitarian doctrine that came to be defined

later as orthodox in mainstream Christianity as it presents a hierarchical view in which the

Father is superior to Christ, who holds a higher rank than the angel of the Holy Spirit.792

The Ascension, furthermore, attributes to the angel of the Holy Spirit certain functions

that the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament, and the Ascension itself attribute to the Holy Spirit.

Thus, the angelus interpres introduces the angel of the Holy Spirit to Isaiah as “the angel of the

Holy Spirit who has spoken in you and also in the other righteous” (Asc. 9.36). This function

of inspiring believers and prophets and speaking through them is never attributed to angels in

the Hebrew Bible or in the New Testament, but only to the Holy Spirit.793 The Ascension

attributes the same function to the Holy Spirit as it does to the angel of the Holy Spirit. Isaiah

thus refers to the Holy Spirit as “the Spirit which speaks in me” (Asc. 1.7). Describing the

martyrdom of Isaiah, the Ascension mentions that “while Isaiah was being sawed in half, he did

not cry out, or weep, but his mouth spoke with the Holy Spirit until he was sawed in two” (Asc.

5.14). The First Vision also mentions that, after the resurrection, many of those who believe in

Jesus “will speak through the Holy Spirit” (Asc. 3.19). Subsequently, describing the corruption

of the church during the post-apostolic period, this vision presents a reversed image, stating that

792
For a discussion of the relationship between the three divine figures and the monotheistic view presented in the
Ascension, see Stuckenbruck, “Worship and Monotheism,” 70-89.
793
The Hebrew Bible describes “the Spirit of God” or “the Spirit of the Lord” as speaking through people or
enabling them to prophecy. See Num 11.24-29; 1 Sam 10.6, 10, 19.20, 23; 2 Sam 23.2; 2 Chr 15.1-2, 20.14-17,
24.20; Neh 9:30; Ezek 11.5; Joel 2.28; Mic 3.8; Zech 7.12. The books of the New Testament refer explicitly to the
Holy Spirit. See Matt 12.18, Mark 12.36, 13.11; Luke 1.41-45, 1.67-79, 10.21; John 16.13; Acts 1.2, 1.16, 2.4,
2.17-18, 4.8, 4.25-26, 4.31, 6.10, 10.44-46, 11.28, 13.9-10, 19.6, 21.4, 2.10-11, 28.25; 1 Cor 12.8, 12.10, 14.2; 1
Pet 1.10-11; 2 Pet 1.20-21. Matt 10.20 uses “the Spirit of your Father.”
285
“the Holy Spirit will withdraw from many. And in those days there will not be many prophets,

nor those who speak reliable words” (Asc. 4.26-27). Describing how Isaiah received the Second

Vision, the Ascension mentions the following:

And when Isaiah spoke with Hezekiah the words of righteousness and faith, they

all heard a door being opened and the voice of the Spirit. … and when they all

heard the voice of the Holy Spirit, they all worshiped on their knees … And

while he [Isaiah] was speaking with the Holy Spirit in the hearing of them all,

he became silent, and his mind was taken up from him, and he did not see the

men who were standing before him (Asc. 6.6-10).

The Ascension further attributes to the angel of the Holy Spirit the function of inspiring

the authors of the books of the Hebrew Bible (Asc. 4.21-22). This function is also reserved in

the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament only to the Holy Spirit.794

The Angel of the Holy Spirit and the Angel Gabriel

The Ascension contains implicit allusions that the angel of the Holy Spirit also

represents the angel Gabriel. This association is evident in three main passages.795 The first

allusion is found in Isaiah’s statement that “those who love the Most High and his Beloved will

at their end go up there through the angel of the Holy Spirit” (Asc. 7.23). This function of

introducing believers into the heavenly realm is often ascribed in Jewish apocalyptic literature

to the angel Gabriel, as is clear in 2 Enoch:

And the LORD sent one of his glorious ones, the archangel Gabriel. And he said

to me, “Be brave, Enoch! Don’t be frightened! Stand up, and come with me and

794
The Hebrew Bible contains numerous references to prophets speaking through the Spirit of God. See n. 787. It
contains, however, few references to the inspiration of the text itself, such as Zech 7.12. The books of the New
Testament acknowledge the inspiration of the Hebrew Bible by the Holy Spirit in the following verses: Matt 22.43;
Mark 12.36; Luke 1.70; Acts 1.16, 4.25, 28.25; Heb 3.7-11, 10.15-17.
795
For a presentation of these points, see also Jean Daniélou, The Theology of Jewish Christianity (London: Darton,
Longman & Todd, 1964), 128-30. Gieschen reintroduces the same points. See Gieschen, Angelomorphic
Christology, 232-3.
286
 stand in front of the face of the LORD forever.” … (And Gabriel carried me up,

like a leaf carried up by the wind. He moved me along) and put me down in front

of the face of the LORD. And I saw the eighth heaven … and the zodiacs, which

are above the seventh heaven. And I saw the ninth heaven, which in the Hebrew

language is called Kukhavim, where the heavenly houses of the zodiacs are (2

En. 21.3, 5-6).796

The second allusion is found in the Ascension’s situating of the angel of the Holy Spirit

to the left side of Christ and of the Father. Thus, when Isaiah is taken to the seventh heaven,

and after he worships Christ, he sees the angel of the Holy Spirit standing to his left:

And I saw the LORD and the second angel, and they were standing, and the

second one whom I saw (was) on the left of my LORD. And I asked the angel who

led me and I said to him, “Who is this one?” And he said to me, “Worship him,

for this is the angel of the Holy Spirit” (Asc. 9.35-36).797

When describing the ascension of Christ into the seventh heaven, Isaiah states, “I saw that he

sat down at the right hand of that Great Glory … and I also saw that the angel of the Holy Spirit

sat on the left (Asc. 11.32-33).798 The position to the left side of God is also associated in Jewish

apocalyptic literature with the angel Gabriel, as 2 Enoch indicates when stating: “And the Lord

called me; and he said to me, ‘Enoch, sit to the left of me with Gabriel.’ And I did obeisance to

the LORD” (2 En. 24.1).799

The third allusion is found in the context of the nativity, where the Ascension indicates

that the angel of the Spirit appeared to Joseph:

And when she [Mary] was betrothed, she was found to be pregnant, and Joseph

the carpenter wished to divorce her. But the angel of the Spirit appeared in this

796
The archangel Michael is given this role in other references. See for instance 2 En. 22.6.
797
Italics mine.
798
Italics mine.
799
Italics mine.
287
 world, and after this Joseph did not divorce Mary; but he did not reveal this

matter to anyone. And he did not approach Mary, but kept her as a holy virgin,

although she was pregnant (Asc. 11.3-5).

The corresponding passage in Matthew’s Gospel does not identify this angel as Gabriel but

rather merely relates that “an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph,

son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from

the Holy Spirit’” (Matt 1.20). Nonetheless, in Christian tradition this angel is believed to be the

angel Gabriel, since he is the messenger associated with the annunciation.800

The association of the angel of the Holy Spirit with the angel Gabriel is further

underscored by the affiliation of the Holy Spirit with the archangel Michael. Thus, after

mentioning the crucifixion of Christ in the First Vision, Isaiah relates that “the angel of the Holy

Spirit and Michael, the chief of the holy angels, will open his [Christ’s] grave on the third day,

and that Beloved, sitting on their shoulders, will come forth and send out his twelve disciples”

(Asc. 3.15-17).801 The collaborative work of the angel of the Holy Spirit and the archangel

Michael in opening the grave and carrying Christ on their shoulders echoes the abovementioned

Second-Temple and rabbinic traditions in which the angels Gabriel and Michael cooperate in

various duties. The Ascension thus clearly associates the angel of the Holy Spirit, whom it

identifies with the Holy Spirit, with the angel Gabriel.

The annunciation accounts of Matthew and Luke could offer insight into the Ascension’s

association of the Holy Spirit with the angel Gabriel. The Gospel of Matthew, as mentioned

800
Daniélou, The Theology of Jewish Christianity, 130; Gieschen, Angelomorphic Christology, 233. See for
example John Chrysostom, Homilies on the Gospel of St. Matthew, trans. George Prevost, NPNF, vol. 10 (Albany,
OR: Sage Software, 1996), 73.
801
The Greek text of the Ascension has a lacuna before the phrase “the angel of the Holy Spirit” (Asc. 3.16). The
name “Gabriel” fills this lacuna in the G2 manuscript, which is one of the two recensions of the original Greek text.
Bernard Grenfell and Arthur Hunt also filled this lacuna with the name Gabriel when they restored the text. Knight
mentions that this reconstruction is not confirmed by the Ethiopic text. He however emphasizes that some of the
functions of the angel of the Holy Spirit in the Ascension are congruent with those attributed to Gabriel in the
Jewish tradition. See Robert Charles, The Ascension of Isaiah (London: A. & C. Black, 1900), 19-20, n. 16; Knight,
The Ascension of Isaiah, 55.
288
above, states that an angel told Joseph that the child in Mary’s womb was conceived by the

Holy Spirit (Matt 1.20). Similarly, the Gospel of Luke mentions that when Zechariah was in

the Temple, “there appeared to him an angel of the Lord” (Luke 1.11) who informed him that

his forthcoming son, John, “even before his birth will be filled with the Holy Spirit” (Luke

1.15). This angel subsequently identified himself stating, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence

of God” (Luke 1.19). The account then mentions that “the angel Gabriel” was sent to Mary

(Luke 1.26), delivering the annunciation and explaining to her that she will conceive when “the

Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you” (Luke

1.35). It is plausible that these annunciation accounts, due to their references to the angel

Gabriel and the Holy Spirit, promoted the association of the Holy Spirit with an angel, and

particularly with the angel Gabriel, in certain Christian circles like those of the Ascension.802

As we saw earlier, God’s reference to Gabriel as “Our Spirit” in Q 19.17 emphasizes

the integral association of this spirit with God himself. This suggests that the qur’ānic text is

referring to a being equivalent to that of the Holy Spirit in Christian tradition. Q 16.102 confirms

this reading when referring to the angel Gabriel as “the Holy Spirit.” The Qur’ān’s association

of the angel Gabriel with the spirit of God does not necessarily imply that it borrows this motif

particularly from the Ascension of Isaiah. Nevertheless, the qur’ānic nativity accounts, as has

been explicated in preceding chapters, draw heavily upon the Protoevangelium of James

(henceforth Prot. Jas.) whose nativity contains various congruent motifs with the Ascension.

The correspondence between both works, illustrated below, could therefore further indicate that

the qur’ānic community was in conversation with the Ascension.

802
Daniélou, The Theology of Jewish Christianity, 130-31. It has also been suggested that the term “angel of the
spirit” could have also been derived from an exegesis of Isaiah 63:9-11, as the “angel of his presence” mentioned
in verse 9 could have been interpreted as identical with the “Holy Spirit” mentioned in verses 10-11. See
Stuckenbruck, “The Holy Spirit in the Ascension of Isaiah,” 311.
289
Parallels between the Ascension of Isaiah and the Prot. Jas.

The Ascension originated in the same Syrian milieu as the Prot. Jas. This cultural setting

has been suggested as the birthplace of the Prot. Jas. partly due to the correspondence of several

motifs of its nativity with the Ascension and other works from Syria. The nativity account of

the Ascension reads as follows:

And after this I looked, and the angel who spoke to me and led me said to me,

“Understand, Isaiah son of Amoz, because for this purpose I was sent from the

LORD.” And I saw a woman of the family of David the prophet whose name

(was) Mary, and she (was) a virgin and was betrothed to a man whose name

(was) Joseph, a carpenter, and he also (was) of the seed and family of the

righteous David of Bethlehem in Judah. And he [Joseph] came into his lot. And

when she was betrothed, she was found to be pregnant, and Joseph the carpenter

wished to divorce her. But the angel of the Spirit appeared in this world, and

after this Joseph did not divorce Mary; but he did not reveal this matter to

anyone. And he did not approach Mary, but kept her as a holy virgin, although

she was pregnant. And he did not live with her for two months. And after two

months of days, while Joseph was in his house, and Mary his wife but both alone,

it came about, when they were alone, that Mary then looked with her eyes and

saw a small infant, and she was astounded. And after her astonishment had worn

off her womb was found as (it was) at first, before she had conceived. And when

her husband Joseph, said to her, “What has made you astounded?” his eyes were

opened, and he saw the infant and praised the LORD, because the LORD had come

in his lot. And a voice came to them, “Do not tell this vision to anyone.” But the

story about the infant was spread abroad in Bethlehem. Some said, “The virgin

Mary has given birth before she has been married two months.” But many said,

“She did not give birth; the midwife did not go up (to her), and we did not hear
290
 (any) cries of pain.” And they were all blinded concerning him; they all knew

about him, but they did not know from where he was. And they took him and

went to Nazareth in Galilee (Asc. 11.1-15).

One of the most significant similarities between this account and the Prot. Jas. is the

extra-canonical motif of Mary’s virginitas post partum.803 The Ascension states that Mary was

a virgin when she was betrothed (Asc. 11.2) and that when she became pregnant Joseph did not

approach her but “kept her as a holy virgin” (Asc. 11.5). The account further mentions that Mary

saw a vision as she “looked with her eyes and saw a small infant, and she was astounded. And

after her astonishment had worn off her womb was found as (it was) at first, before she had

conceived” (Asc. 11.8-9).804 The Prot. Jas. presents this motif firstly in the statement of the

midwife who tells Salome, “I can describe a new wonder to you. A virgin has given birth,

contrary to her natural condition” (PJ 19.3). The Prot. Jas., secondly, relates that Salome

attempted to examine Mary’s virginity after her delivery. However, as she tried to insert her

finger and examine Mary’s condition, her hand fell away from her burning; and she confessed

her sin and faithlessness (PJ 20.1).805

Another clear parallel between the nativity accounts of both works is the absence of the

midwife from the delivery scene. The Prot. Jas. accentuates this theme when it portrays Mary

as giving birth in the cave alone, with Joseph and the midwife arriving only to witness the

803
See Jonathan Knight, “The Portrait of Mary in the Ascension of Isaiah,” in Which Mary? The Marys of Early
Christian Tradition, ed. F. Stanley Jones (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2002), 102. Knight suggests in
this regard that, since the Ascension precedes the Prot. Jas., the author of the former could have initiated the notion
of the virginitas in partu. See ibid., 104. Zervos argues that this motif does not merely correspond with the
analogous presentation of the theme in the Prot. Jas. 19-20, as Knight indicates, but rather draws upon the Prot.
Jas. and what he believes to be its principal sources, the Genesis Marias. See George Zervos, “Seeking the Source
of the Marian Myth: Have We Found the Missing Link?” in Which Mary?, 119-20.
804
Italics mine. Commenting on this reference, Knight argues that unlike the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, which
state or imply that Jesus was virginally conceived, the Ascension states not only that Jesus was virginally conceived
but that Mary was found a virgin also after the delivery. See Knight, op. cit., 102. For a discussion of this reference
as one of the earliest affirmations of the virginitas post partum, see John Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines (London:
Black, 1977), 492; Josephine Ford, “Mary’s Virginitas Post Partum and Jewish Law,” Bib 54 (1951): 94-101;
Joseph Plumpe, “Some Little-Known Early Witnesses to Mary’s Virginitas in Partu,” TS 9 (1948): 567-77.
805
The notion of virginitas in partu is also implied by Ignatius’ Epistle to the Ephesians (19) and the Odes of
Solomon (19), both of which emerged in Syria. See Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament, 49.
291
miraculous birth of Jesus (PJ 19.2). This clearly corresponds with the Ascension’s statement:

“But many said, ‘She [Mary] did not give birth; the midwife did not go up (to her), and we did

not hear (any) cries of pain’” (Asc. 11.14).806

A third important parallel concerns Mary as a descendant of King David.807 The Prot.

Jas. emphasizes, “that the child Mary was from the tribe of David” (PJ 10.1). The Ascension

also asserts that Mary and Joseph were both from the line of David:

And I saw a woman of the family of David the prophet whose name (was) Mary,

and she (was) a virgin and was betrothed to a man whose name (was) Joseph, a

carpenter, and he also (was) of the seed and family of the righteous David of

Bethlehem in Judah (Asc. 11.2).

Both accounts also suggest that Mary gave birth to Jesus after fewer than nine months

of pregnancy. In the Prot. Jas., Mary appears to give birth after only six months. The text states

that Mary’s pregnancy was discovered by Joseph when “she was in her sixth month” (PJ 13.1),

and it then describes the social scandal that resulted from the discovery of Mary’s pregnancy,

the journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem, Joseph’s search for a midwife (PJ 15.1-19.1),

and subsequently Mary’s giving birth to Jesus (PJ 19.2). The Prot. Jas. does not indicate how

much time passed from Joseph’s discovery to Mary’s giving birth.

The specific mention of a six-month pregnancy in the Prot. Jas. might suggest another

miraculous motif regarding the birth of Jesus. The Ascension presents a similar motif:808

806
See Zervos, op. cit.,116.
807
See Knight, op. cit., 100-101. See also Zervos, op. cit., 116-7. Knight and Zervos argue that since Joseph is
introduced as a descendant of David in Matthew’s Gospel (Matt 1.6-16), Christian authors aimed at including
Mary also in the Davidic line in order to dismiss any suspicion regarding Jesus’ messianic identity. Knight
indicates the use of the same motif in Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho (44.4) and in Ignatius of Antioch’s
Epistle to the Ephesians. See Ignatius, “To the Ephesians,” The Epistles of St. Clement of Rome and St. Ignatius of
Antioch, trans. James Kleist (Westminster: The Newman Bookshop, 1946), 18.2 [p. 67]. Zervos argues that two
other references in Ignatius epistles (Ignatius, “To the Ephesians,” ibid., 20.2; “To the Trallians,” ibid., 9.1 [p. 77];
“To the Smyrnaeans,” ibid., 1.1 [p. 90]) indicate the same motif. But his claim is not convincing, in the sense that
these references do not present Mary as a descendant of David. The references in Ignatius’s letters lead Zervos to
the conclusion that this Marian motif must already have been established in Syria before 110 C.E., the approximate
date of Ignatius’s death. See Zervos, op. cit., 116.
808
For a discussion of this possible correspondence, see Knight, op. cit., 101-2; Zervos, op. cit., 118.
292
 And when she [Mary] was betrothed, she was found to be pregnant … And he

[Joseph] did not approach Mary … And he did not live with her for two months.

And after two months of days … it came about, when they were alone, that Mary

then looked with her eyes and saw a small infant, and she was astounded. And

after her astonishment had worn off, her womb was found as (it was) at first,

before she had conceived. … But the story about the infant was spread abroad

in Bethlehem. Some said, “The virgin Mary has given birth before she has been

married two months” (Asc. 11.3, 5-9, 12-13).

The passage is obscure. It however indicates repeatedly that Mary gave birth to Jesus after only

two months of pregnancy.

Both works, moreover, emphasize the astonishment of the protagonists in response to

Mary’s pregnancy.809 The Ascension, as mentioned in the above cited passage, relates that “after

two months … Mary then looked with her eyes and saw a small infant, and she was astounded.

And after her astonishment had worn off her womb was found as (it was) at first, before she

had conceived” (Asc. 11.7-9).810 The Prot. Jas. does not say that Mary was surprised by her

pregnancy, but it mentions that Mary was perplexed when Elizabeth greeted her as “the mother

of my Lord,” as she had “forgot[ten] all the mysteries that the archangel Gabriel had spoken to

her” (PJ 12.2). Joseph is also described as being shocked upon discovering that Mary is

pregnant (PJ 13.1). When he asks Mary how she became pregnant, she swears that she does not

know (PJ 13.3). The Ascension and the Prot. Jas. both further mention, in the same context,

that Joseph was a carpenter and that he was chosen for Mary by lot (Asc. 11.3; PJ 9.1).811

809
Knight and Zervos indicate the motif of surprise only in the Ascension but do not point it out in the Prot. Jas.
See Knight, op. cit., 101; Zervos, op. cit., 118.
810
Italics mine.
811
The Prot. Jas. emphasizes again that Joseph was assigned Mary through a lot (PJ 19.1). The Ascension also
mentions that Joseph had a vision as “his eyes were opened, and he saw the infant and praised the LORD, because
the LORD had come in his lot” (Asc. 11.10). See Zervos, op. cit., 117-8.
293
 The clear correspondence between both works and other compositions from Syria

indicates that both originated in a Syrian milieu. The qur’ānic nativity’s integration of motifs

from both works implies therefore that the qur’ānic community was in conversation with a set

of interconnected Christian and Jewish-Christian traditions conceived in this religio-cultural

context. Nevertheless, as explained earlier, both works were translated to several languages and

the Prot. Jas. was very popular in late antiquity and had an immense influence on the Christian

tradition. This implies that the qur’ānic community could have encountered the themes of both

works, including the belief that the angel Gabriel is synonymous with the Holy Spirit, in various

religio-cultural settings.

The Angels of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān in Light of the Prot. Jas.

The description of a multiplicity of angels addressing Mary in the annunciation (Q 3.42-

43, 45) is unique to Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. Luke’s Gospel is explicit that Gabriel was the sole angel

to deliver the annunciation to Mary. Consequently, Christian traditions do not associated any

other angels besides Gabriel with the annunciation.812 The subsequent discussion will examine

the motifs presented in this theme in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān in light of biblical texts, other qur’ānic

texts, the Prot. Jas. and the Ascension.

Two Addresses to Mary in the Prot. Jas.’s Annunciation

Considering the evident parallels between Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and the Prot. Jas., we can

conclude that the latter work may offer insights as well into this sūra’s reference to a plurality

of angels in the annunciation. The annunciation accounts of both works correspond in several

ways. The Prot. Jas. presents an annunciation scene in which Mary is addressed twice. Mary is

addressed the first time when she goes out of her home and hears a voice greeting her (PJ 11.1).

See Carlo Carletti, “Gabriel (iconography),” EAC 2:87; David Keck, Angels and Angelology in the Middle Ages
812

(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 40-41 and 170-71.

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The second time Mary is addressed when she receives the annunciation from “an angel of the

Lord,” who appears before her after she enters her home (PJ 11.2-3). The Prot. Jas. does not

explain whether Mary was addressed by the same angel in both cases or by two different

spiritual beings, allowing for the possibility that more than one spiritual being addressed her.

Considering the similarities between the Prot. Jas. and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, it is feasible that the

plurality of angels in Q 3.42-43 and Q 3.45 reflect the two separate addresses to Mary in the

annunciation account of the Prot. Jas. (PJ 11.1-3).813

The structure and the content of the annunciation accounts of the Prot. Jas. and Sūrat

Āl-‘Imrān further affirm this correspondence. Thus, both texts begin by addressing Mary in a

similar manner, as “favored” and “chosen” among women. In the Prot. Jas. Mary first hears a

voice addressing her, “Greetings, you who are favored! The Lord is with you. You are blessed

among women” (PJ 11.1). Similarly, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān presents the angels addressing Mary as

favored by Allah over all other women: “O Mary, [indeed] Allah has chosen you and purified

you and chosen you over [all] the women of the worlds” (Q 3.42). Both accounts then introduce

a break between this initial address and the annunciation. The Prot. Jas. presents this break by

mentioning that Mary looked around to see where the voice was coming from, and then she

entered her house, sat on her chair, and began spinning the purple thread (PJ 11.1). Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān, similarly, cuts off the first address of the angels by describing the contest over who was

to become Mary’s guardian (Q 3.44). After this break in the first address to Mary, the Prot. Jas.

portrays “an angel of the Lord” delivering the annunciation concerning the forthcoming birth

of Jesus, saying, “Do not fear, Mary. For you have found favor before the Master of all. You

will conceive a child from his Word” (PJ 11.2). Similarly, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān presents the angels’

annunciation of the forthcoming birth of Jesus in a second address, as they state, “O Mary,

813
Horn refers briefly to the possibility of correspondence between Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and the Prot. Jas. in this
context. See Cornelia Horn, “Syriac and Arabic Perspectives,” 281; Horn, “Intersections: The Reception History,”
142.
295
[indeed] Allah gives you glad tidings of a Word from him, whose name is the Messiah, Jesus,

son of Mary, illustrious in the world and the hereafter, and from among those who are brought

near [to Allah]” (Q 3.45).

The Gospel of Luke presents a structure similar to both these accounts, though it

identifies Gabriel as the only speaker. Gabriel first addresses Mary saying, “Greetings, favored

one! The Lord is with you” (Luke 1.28). The account interrupts the angel’s address by stating

that Mary “was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be”

(Luke 1.29). Then the angel delivers the annunciation, saying:

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will

conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be

great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give

to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob

forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1.30-33).

The correspondence between Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and the Prot. Jas. is further emphasized

by the fact that the Prot. Jas. refers to Jesus as “a child from his [God’s] Word” (PJ 11.2) and

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān refers to him as “a child” (Q 3.47a) and “a Word from him [God]” (Q 3.45a).

But neither the nativity account of Luke’s Gospel nor Sūrat Maryam refer to Jesus as a “Word.”

Rather, Luke uses the term “son” (Luke 1.31), which corresponds better with Sūrat Maryam’s

use of the term “boy” (qhulām) (Q 19.19).814 Finally, both accounts present Mary as asking

how she will conceive, and both present the angel’s answer to her questions (PJ 11.2-3; Q

3.47b). All these parallels offer sufficient grounds to conclude the existence of an intertextual

relation between the annunciation account of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and that of the Prot. Jas. This

intertextual relation suggests that the plurality of angels in Q 3.42 and Q 3.45 is also drawing

814
See Mourad, “On the Qur’anic Stories,” 17.
296
upon the Prot. Jas., and probably specifically on the two separate addresses to Mary in the

annunciation (PJ 11.1-3).

The Move from a Plurality of Announcers to a Singular Addressee

As mentioned above, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān appears inconsistent when it portrays Mary as

responding to a singular person after hearing the annunciation from the angels. Mary addresses

this person as “my Lord (rabbi)” when she asks how she will have a child (Q 3.47a). The text

then confirms that Mary is in conversation with one person, as it mentions that “he said” (qāla,

Q 3.47b). This speaker is clearly not Allah, since he refers to Allah in the third person: “So [it

will be], Allah creates whatever He wills: if He decrees a matter, He merely says to it ‘Be,’ and

it comes into existence” (Q 3.47).

Q 3.47 apparently interrupts the narrative flow of the annunciation in Q 3.45-46 and Q

3.48, which seem to constitute one unit. It is possible therefore to argue that Q 3.47 was

introduced into Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān in a later revision of the text. This sūra presents, however, a

similar construct earlier in the account when depicting the annunciation to Zechariah. The

earlier account begins by mentioning that “Zechariah called upon his Lord (rabbahu)” asking

for a child (Q 3.38). In response to his prayer, the text relates that “the angels called him while

he is standing in prayer in the miḥrāb (saying), ‘Indeed, Allah gives you glad tidings of John

(Yaḥyā)’” (Q 3.39). Zechariah responds in a manner similar to Mary, by turning to one person

and asking, “My Lord (rabbi), how shall to me be a boy?” (Q 3.40a); and he receives an answer,

similar to the one Mary receives, from one person: “He said (qāla), ‘So [it will be], Allah [He]

does whatever He wills’” (Q 3.40b). Thus, as in the annunciation to Mary, a plurality of angels

address Zechariah, who responds to a certain figure as “Lord,” and this figure then refers to

Allah in the third person. This indicates that this construct of interaction between the protagonist

and the plurality of angels is not interpolated into Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, but is rather inherent to it.

297
 This construct is furthermore not unique to Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. It occurs in Sūrat Maryam

as well. This sūra begins by referring to itself as a “recitation of the mercy of your Lord

(rabbaka) [towards] his servant Zechariah” (Q 19.2). The sūra then presents Zechariah as

beseeching God for an heir, stating that “when Zechariah called his Lord (rabbahu) … he said

‘My Lord (rabbi): my bones grew feeble … therefore, grant me from yourself an heir … and

make him, my Lord (rabbi), pleasing’” (Q 19.3-6). The sūra presents the annunciation without

revealing who delivers it. A voice simply states, “Oh Zechariah, We give you glad tidings of a

boy whose name is John (Yaḥyā). We have not made to him, before, an equal” (Q 19.7). The

speaker seems to be God, who alone can give such a promise. Zechariah responds to the

annunciation by addressing a certain figure as “my Lord (rabbi),” and asking about the

possibility of this promise, since his wife is barren and he is an old man (Q 19.8). Zechariah,

however, is not answered by God. The text rather states, “He said: ‘Thus [it shall be] said your

Lord (rabbuka): ‘It is easy for me, and I have created you from before, and you were nothing’”

(Q 19.9). The figure addressing Zechariah here is clearly not God, as it refers to God (the “Lord”

of Zechariah), in the third person and mediates his words.

The annunciation to Zechariah in Sūrat Maryam and the annunciations to Zechariah and

Mary in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān use a similar construct containing three stages: a plurality of angels

deliver the annunciation to Zechariah and Mary (Q 19.7; 3.39, 42); Zechariah and Mary respond

only to a certain figure as Lord (rab) (Q 19.8; 3.40a, 47a); Zechariah and Mary are answered

by an intermediary figure who refers to Allah in the third person and mediates his words and

decrees (Q 19.9; 3.40b, 47b). The term “Lord” (rabb) is used in both sūras to refer to Allah (Q

19.2-6; 3.38) and also to the intermediary figure (Q 3.41a; 19.10a). It is therefore not clear if

Zechariah and Mary are addressing God or the intermediary figure as “Lord” in Q 19.8, Q 3.40a

and Q 3.47a.

These annunciations indicate that the intermediary figure is the angel Gabriel. Thus,

when Zechariah asks this intermediary figure for a sign in Q 19.10a and Q 3.41a, he is told that
298
the sign is his own muteness for three days.815 This interaction is consonant with the one

depicted in Luke’s Gospel where the angel Gabriel responds to Zechariah’s question by

informing him that he will be mute until the fulfillment of the annunciation (Luke 1.19-20).

Moreover, the response of this intermediary figure to Mary’s questions about how she will give

birth as a virgin in Q 3.47b is congruous with the angel Gabriel’s response to Mary in the Gospel

of Luke (Luke 1.35) and the Prot. Jas. (PJ 11.3).816

The introduction of the motifs of the multiplicity of angels and the intermediary figure

into the annunciations of the qur’ānic nativity accounts is very interesting. These motifs could

be illuminated in light of corresponding biblical annunciation accounts that emphasize the role

of angels in the annunciation. This examination, however, requires a general presentation of the

relationship between God and the angels in the Hebrew Bible and the Qur’ān.

The Divine Council in the Hebrew Bible and the Qur’ān

The Hebrew Bible, in a way similar to other ancient Near Eastern traditions, presents

the heavenly world as a royal court in which Yahweh rules as king. The divine beings serve

Yahweh in this court as counselors, warriors, and other kinds of agents. Biblical texts refer to

this community of angels as the “divine council” (‫( )עֲדַ ת ַאֵּ ל‬Ps 82.1).817 The most extensive

portrayal of the function of this divine council is found in 1 Kings 22.19-23, which depicts the

prophet Micaiah describing how he saw “the LORD (Yahweh) sitting on his throne, with all the

host of heaven standing beside him to the right and to the left of him” (1 Kgs 22.19). In this

account Micaiah relates that Yahweh asked the divine council how he could deceive King Ahab.

Each of the divine beings offers its advice, and finally Yahweh accepts the proposal of one of

815
Q 19.10 mentions that Zechariah will not be able to speak for “three nights,” and Q 3.41 mentions “three days.”
816
In the context of the annunciation, the Prot. Jas. identifies the angel merely as the “angel of the Lord” (PJ 11.2-
3). Subsequently, however, the Prot. Jas. reveals that this angel is in fact Gabriel when it states, “But Mary forgot
the mysteries that the archangel Gabriel had spoken to her” (PJ 12.2).
817
The Hebrew Bible also uses the terms “council of God” (ַַ‫( )סֹודַאֱלֹוה‬Job 15.8); the “council of the LORD” (‫סֹוד‬
‫( )יְ הוָה‬Jer 23.18); “the assembly of the holy ones” (‫( )קְ הַ לַקְ דֹ ִשים‬Ps 89.5) or “the council of the holy ones” (-‫סֹוד‬
‫( )קְ דֹ ִשים‬Ps 89.7).
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them who offers to be “a lying spirit in the mouth of all of his [Ahab’s] prophets” (1 Kgs

22.22).818

The divine status of those beings and their proximity to Yahweh is revealed in their

designation as “sons of God” (‫ֱֹלהים‬

ִ ‫הָ א‬-‫ )בְ נֵּי‬or “sons of Gods” (‫)בְ נֵּיַאֵּ לִ ים‬, or even “gods” (‫)אֱֹלהִ ים‬.819

Among the terms that refer to these angels are “ministers” (‫)משָ ְרתים‬
ְ (Ps 103.21) and “armies”

or “hosts” (‫( )צְ בָ אֹות‬Ps 89.8). The proximity of these angels to Yahweh is further emphasized by

his designation as the “God of hosts” (‫ )אֱֹלהִ ים ַצְ בָ אֹות‬or the “LORD of hosts” (‫)צְ בָ אֹות יהוָה‬.820

Yahweh is described as being accompanied by thousands of these hosts (Deut 33.2; Ps 68.17).

The Qur’ān also presents the heavenly world as a royal court. The Qur’ān does not

describe the angels as sons of Allah. It in fact condemns the notion of Allah begetting other

beings (Q 37.152) and particularly polemicizes against the belief that the angels are the

daughters of Allah.821 The Qur’ān, nevertheless, portrays the angels as carrying the throne of

Allah (Q 69.17) and surrounding it while praising him as he judges between them (Q 39.75).

The Qur’ān also identifies at least a certain group of the angels as “the angels who are brought

near” ( َ‫( )المَلئكةُ ال ُمقَ ًربين‬Q 4.172) and refers to the “highest” or “the most exalted assembly” ( ‫المأل‬

‫( )األ ْعلَى‬Q 37.8; 38.69). The latter concept seems to express a notion analogous to that of the

biblical divine council.822 The references to “the most exalted assembly” do not mention angels

explicitly; but the various contexts indicate that this assembly is one of angels.

Sūrat Ṣād offers an insight into the Qur’ān’s perception of this hidden spiritual realm.

The sūra begins with Muḥammad stating, “I had no knowledge of the most exalted assembly

(al-malā’ al-a‘lā) as [they were] disputing. If [it is] revealed to me, [this is] solely because I am

a clear warner” (Q 38.69-70). The text then relates God’s creation of Adam and the bowing of

818
Carol Newsom, “Angels (Old Testament),” ABD, I: 251.
819
For the first title see Gen 6.2, 4, and Job 1.6, 2.1, 38.7; for the second title see Pss 29.1 and 89.6; and for the
third title see Ps 82.1.
820
See for example 1 Sam 1.3, 1.11, 4.4; 2 Sam 5.10, 6.2; 1 Kgs 19.10, 19.14.
821
See Q 17.40; 37.150, 153; 43.19; 53.21, 27.
822
Gabriel Reynolds, “Angels,” EI3 (2009), no. 3, 88.
300
all the angels before him, except for Satan, who is expelled as a result (Q 38.69-78). The

mention of the dispute among al-malā’ al-a‘lā (Q 38.69) before the angels’ obeisance and the

rebellion of Satan (Q 38.71-78) indicates that the dispute took place among beings in the

spiritual realm. The equivalent account in Sūrat al-Baqarah (Q 2.30-34) suggests that the term

refers particularly to the angels. Thus, Q 2.30 relates that when God informed the angels of his

intention to create a viceroy (khalīfah) for himself on the earth, the angels were the ones who

objected, asserting that Man will be the source of corruption and bloodshed. God, however,

teaches Adam “the names” (Q 2.31) and demonstrates to the angels that their judgment was

wrong (Q 2.31-33). The account subsequently relates how God commanded the angels to bow

before Adam and they all did except for Satan (Q 2.34). This account therefore suggests that

the “dispute” of al-malā’ al-a‘lā (Q 38.69) refers either to the angel’s disagreement with God

concerning his intention to make Man his viceroy on the earth (Q 2.30) or to a dispute within

al-malā’ al-a‘lā that resulted from Satan’s disobedience to God (Q 2.34).

Sūrat al-Ṣāffāt further confirms that al-malā’ al-a‘lā refers exclusively to angels. In this

sūra God states that he adorned the lowest heaven with the planets and safeguarded it against

every rebellious devil (shayṭān), lest they listen to al-malā’ al-a‘lā (Q 37.6-8). The imagery

here clearly posits different levels in the heavens; and al-malā’ al-a‘lā, as its name indicates,

inhabits the uppermost realm. This realm is protected against evil spiritual beings, who are

denied even the possibility of listening to al-malā’ al-a‘lā. The reference to “listening” suggests

that the angels of this exalted assembly communicate with one another vocally. The total

separation of the al-malā’ al-a‘lā in an upper impervious realm reveals that the term refers only

to angels.

These texts reveal that the Hebrew Bible and the Qur’ān comprise similar notions of the

proximity between God and the angels, or at least certain ranks of them. This proximity is not

limited, however, to depictions of the heavenly realms. The biblical accounts of God’s visit to

Abraham clearly demonstrate this theme as do the equivalent qur’ānic accounts which can also
301
offer insights into the annunciations to Zechariah and Mary in Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān.

The Biblical Account of God’s Visit to Abraham

The biblical account of God’s visit to Abraham begins by relating that “the LORD (‫)יְ הוָה‬

appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of

the day” (Gen 18.1). The text then mentions that Abraham “looked up and saw three men

standing near him” (Gen 18.2). However, when Abraham approaches these three men, he

initially addresses only one of them with the words, “My lord, if I find favor with you, do not

pass by your servant” (Gen 18.3). Abraham then addresses all three of them, saying, “Let a little

water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree. Let me bring a little

bread, that you may refresh yourselves” (Gen 18.4-5a). After Abraham prepares food for the

three visitors and after they eat, they ask him about his wife Sarah (Gen 18.7-9) and only then

does one of the visitors deliver the annunciation to Abraham, saying: “I will surely return to

you in due season, and your wife Sarah shall have a son” (Gen 18.10a). The account

subsequently reveals that the figure who gives the promise is Yahweh himself, for when Sarah

laughs at the annunciation (Gen 18.10b), the text relates that “the LORD (‫ )יְ הוָה‬said to Abraham,

‘Why did Sarah laugh?’ … Is anything too wonderful for the LORD? At the set time I will return

to you, in due season, and Sarah shall have a son” (Gen 18.13-14).

The account eventually reveals that the two other figures accompanying Yahweh are

angels. After delivering the annunciation, “the men turned from there, and went toward Sodom,

while Abraham remained standing before the LORD (‫( ”)יְ הוָה‬Gen 18.22). Abraham and Yahweh

converse about Sodom (Gen 10.23-32), while the narrative of the destruction of Sodom begins

with the two figures that accompanied Yahweh, stating that “the two angels (‫)שנֵּיַהַ מַ לְ אָ כִ ים‬
ְ came

to Sodom in the evening” (Gen 19.1).

302
 The Qur’ān is aware of this biblical story, and it introduces alternative versions of it in

Q 11.69-73, Q 15.51-56, and Q 51.24-30. It also refers to the story in Q 29.31 and Q 37.112.

These qur’ānic accounts reflect a clear intertextuality with the biblical tale, post-biblical

traditions related to it, and possibly also other traditions depicting the behavior of angels as

guests.823 As in the biblical account, all these references besides Q 37.112 relate that Abraham’s

visitors went to Lot’s family, warning them and destroying the people among whom they live.

These accounts refer to Abraham’s visitors as messengers (rusul or mursalūn) or guests (ḍayf)

and not as angels.824 Nevertheless, Q 11.70 and Q 51.27 clearly indicate that these guests did

not eat, signaling by this that they are angels.825 Furthermore, none of these accounts explicitly

identifies God as one of the messengers.

Sūrat Hūd provides a good illustration of the relationship between the angels and God

in this account (Q 11.69-73). This sūra refers to the messengers throughout the account in the

third person, while reporting their direct speech in the first person. It begins by stating, “[indeed]

our messengers came to Abraham with the glad tidings. They said ‘peace.’ … They said, ‘Fear

not, we were sent to the people of Lot’” (Q 11.69-70). This sūra, however, relates the good

tidings in the first person in indirect speech, as it states that when Abraham’s wife laughed,

“We gave her good tidings concerning Isaac (bashsharnāhā bi-Isḥaq)” (Q 11.71).826 The

account then returns to using the third person of the characters, Sarah and the messengers, while

reporting their direct speech in the first person (Q 11.72-73). The “We” in Q 11.71 expresses

the divine self-designation, indicating that Allah is the speaker, referring to himself as the one

who delivers the annunciation to Sarah.827 These observations indicate that Sūrat Hūd, like the

823
Reynolds, The Qur’ān and Its Biblical Subtext, 93-7.
824
The references to messengers occur in Q 11.69; 15.57; 29.31; 51.31; and the references to guests are in Q 15.51;
51.24.
825
Reynolds, op. cit., 94-5.
826
Q 51.28 mentions instead, “they gave him good tidings of a knowledgeable boy.” Q 15.53 also mentions that
the whole group delivered the annunciation: “They said: ‘we give you [Abraham] good tidings of a knowledgeable
boy.’” Therefore, the “we” in this context clearly refers to the guests.
827
On the use of the first-person plural for the divine self-designation in the Qur’ān, see Neal Robinson,
Discovering the Qur’an: A Contemporary Approach to a Veiled Text (London: SCM Press, 2003), 225-9.
303
Hebrew Bible, does depict God as being among, or accompanied with, angels. The passage

further demonstrates that the Qur’ān, in a similar manner to the Hebrew Bible, can move in the

same account from reporting the speech of the plurality of the speakers (the angels) to reporting

the speech of one person within the group (Allah) and contrariwise.

These conclusions could explain why Zechariah and Mary respond only to one “Lord”

(Q 3.40b, 47b) after they are addressed by a plurality of angels (Q 3.39, 42, 45). Thus, in light

of the preceding remarks, it is possible to argue that Allah was present among the angels who

address Zechariah and Mary, who in turn chose to respond only to one figure as “Lord.” This

term, however, as indicated earlier is also used to designate the intermediary figure in these

qur’ānic annunciations, who clearly refers to Gabriel. It is possible therefore to argue that

Zechariah and Mary were addressed by multiple angels and chose to respond to only one of

them, probably their chief, as “Lord.” One problem with this view is that the reference to an

angel as “Lord” (rabb) is alien to the Qur’ān due to its notion of tawḥīd.828 This suggests that

by referring to Allah and another being by the same title of “Lord” in the same contexts, these

qur’ānic texts are introducing an additional motif besides that of the relationship between Allah

and the angels. The connection between Allah and an angelic “Lord” in the annunciation

settings seems to correspond to the relationship between Yahweh and the “angel of the Lord”

depicted in the Hebrew Bible. This theme should therefore be presented here.

Yahweh and His Messenger in the Hebrew Bible

Various biblical accounts emphasize the role of “the angel of God” (‫ )מַ לְ אַ ְךַ ֱאֹלהִ ים‬or “the

angel of the Lord” (‫)מַ לְ אַ ְךַיְ הוָה‬, particularly in contexts of theophany. This angel is portrayed as

deeply associated with or even identical to the God of the Hebrew Bible, referred to as Yahweh

828
For the doctrine of tawḥīd in the Qur’ān, see Hussein Abdul-Raof, “Tawhid,” in The Qur’an: An Encyclopedia,
ed. Oliver Leaman (London: Routledge, 2008), 651-3; Mohamed Abou Ridah, “Monotheism in Islam:
Interpretations and Social Manifestations,” in The Concept of Monotheism in Islam and Christianity, ed. Hans
Köchler (Wien: W. Braumüller, 1982), 46-58.
304
or Elohīm.829 The theophanies that Abraham and Hagar experience in the biblical accounts

provide good demonstrations of this obscure relationship between the God of the Hebrew Bible

and this angel.

As we saw earlier, Genesis 16 describes Hagar as running away from the harsh treatment

of Sarah when “the angel of the LORD (‫ )מַ לְ אַ ְך ַיְ הוָה‬found her by a spring of water in the

wilderness” (Gen 16.7). During the conversation between Hager and mal’ākh Yahweh, the latter

is depicted as pronouncing the following promise: “I will so greatly multiply your offspring

that they cannot be counted for multitude” (Gen 16.10). Considering the Hebrew Bible’s

references to the attributes of God and its differentiation between God and the angels, as created

and limited beings who are primarily servants, it is clear that God alone can issue such a

promise.830 The interchangeability between mal’ākh Yahweh and Yahweh is further emphasized

at the end of the narrative, where the text states that Hagar encountered God himself: “she

named the LORD (‫ )יְ הוָה‬who spoke to her, “You are El-roi”; for she said, “Have I really seen

God and remained alive after seeing him?” (Gen 16.13).831

Hagar’s second theophany depicts an encounter with “the angel of God” (‫)מַ לְ אַ ְךַאֱֹלהִ ים‬.

In this case, after Hagar and her son are sent away by Abraham, and after their water is depleted

in the wilderness, Hager sits apart from her son and cries (Gen 21.15-16). The account then

relates that, “God (‫ֱֹלהים‬

ִ ‫ )א‬heard the voice of the boy; and the angel of God (‫ )מַ לְ אַ ְךַאֱֹלהִ ים‬called

to Hagar from heaven, and said to her, ‘What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God

has heard the voice of the boy where he is’” (Gen 21.17). In this text God (Elohīm) and mal’ākh

829
See for example Gen 22.11-12; 31.11-13; Exod 3.2-12; Judg 6.11-24. For a general discussion of this theme,
see Newsom, “Angels,” 250; David Freedman, Heinz-Josef Fabry, and Bruce Willoughby, “‫ מַ לְ אָ ְך‬mal’āḵ,” TDOT,
VIII: 317-321.
830
The term mal’ākh is etymologically linked with the word melā’ḵâ, which is used in the Old Testament to indicate
the work or service associated with the sanctuary or involving sacred objects. See Heinz-Josef Fabry, “‫ְמלָאכָה‬
melā’ḵâ,” TDOT, VIII:331-2. The word mal’ākh means “messenger” or “envoy.” In psalm 103 the angels are
referred to as “his [God’s] ministers (měšārětîm)” (Ps 103.20-21). For this and the functions of angels in the
Hebrew Bible, see Newsom, “Angels (Old Testament),” 248-53; Freedman et al. “‫ מַ לְ אָ ְך‬mal’āḵ,” 308-9 and 317-
8.
831
Newsom, op. cit., 250.
305
Elohīm are presented as affiliated with one another, as God hears the voice of the boy and

mal’ākh Elohīm calls Hagar. But both entities are also presented as separate beings, as mal’ākh

Elohīm refers to God in the third person.

The account of the Binding of Isaac begins by stating that God (Elohīm) commanded

Abraham to take his son Isaac, go to the Land of Moriah, and offer him on one of the mountains

there (Gen 22.1-2). The account, however, relates subsequently that when Abraham was about

to slaughter his son, “the angel of the LORD” (mal’ākh Yahweh) called to Abraham and said,

“Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God,

since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me” (Gen 22.11-12).832 The account

thus begins with God (Elohīm) and ends with a perplexing slide between Elohīm and mal’ākh

Yahweh. In the phrase in question, mal’ākh Yahweh first refers to God in the third person (“I

know that you fear God”) but then says “you have not withheld your son … from me” (Gen

22.12).833

These references to mal’ākh Yahweh and mal’ākh Elohīm were understood by the early

Church and particularly in Patristic literature as manifestations of the pre-incarnate Christ.834 In

this sense the Christian belief in a Triune God gave Christians the ability to explain why in

certain cases the Hebrew Bible presents the angel of the Lord as interchangeable with God, and

why in other cases it presents them as separate entities.

Biblical scholars have offered various textual and theological interpretations in their

attempt to explain the interchangeability between God and God’s angel. One literary argument

proposes that these texts did not originally form a literary unity but rather emerged from

832
Italics mine.
833
Italics mine. Freedman et al., “‫ מַ לְ אָ ְך‬mal’āḵ,” 319.
834
Gieschen argues that in the Pauline epistles Jesus is identified as the angel of Yahweh. See Gieschen,
Angelomorphic Christology, 323-9. Gieschen also explains that the Epistle of Jude clearly identifies Jesus as the
angel of the Lord. See ibid., 328. Gieschen further argues that the presentation of Jesus in the Gospel of John draws
upon the biblical mal’ākh Yahweh tradition. See ibid., 280-83. The writings of the Church Fathers clearly indicate
their belief that all the visible manifestations of God, including that of “the angel of the Lord,” are evidence of
Christ the Son, and not of God the Father. See ibid., 189-99.
306
different sources.835 Other views suggest that though the authors of these narratives depict the

angel of God as delivering the divine message, they use the terms “Yahweh” or “Elohīm” in

the accounts because they believed either that these messages were sent directly by God or that

the significance of these accounts demands that God be directly involved in them. An

alternative theological view argues that the intention of these accounts is to present Yahweh

himself as speaking through his angel. Another similar view understands Yahweh himself as

speaking directly with the biblical figures in these theophanies, but the introduction of the angel

of God as a mediator was necessary since God himself cannot be seen.836

None of these arguments, however, can be applied to the Qur’ān’s use of the title “Lord”

in reference to this intermediary figure while presenting him as referring to Allah also as “Lord”

in the annunciation accounts of Zechariah and Mary (Q 19.9-10; 3.40-41, 47). As has been

demonstrated earlier, this intermediary figure is none other than the angel Gabriel to whom

Allah refers in Q 19.17 as “Our Spirit.” This deep association between Allah and the angel

Gabriel, by referring to him as his spirit and more so through his designation by the same title

of “Lord” (rab) are very perplexing. The Qur’ān’s monadic view of God does not allow for the

reference to any other figure by the term Lord (rab) besides Allah, “the Lord of the universe”

(rabbu al-‘ālamīn) (Q 1.2). Therefore, the qur’ānic text could not have “naturally” produced a

concept of an angel of the Lord that is equivalent to that of the Hebrew Bible. This suggests

that the qur’ānic community was in conversation with biblical or post-biblical traditions that

express a deep association between God and a visible agent that represents him and mediates

him to humans.

The Prot. Jas. presents “the angel of the Lord,” whom it subsequently defines as “the

archangel Gabriel” (PJ 12.2), as the deliverer of the annunciation (PJ 11.2-3). But it does not

explicate the relationship between this angel and God. This motif is however found in the

835
Freedman et al., “‫ מַ לְ אָ ְך‬mal’āḵ,” 320.
836
Ibid., 320-21.
307
Ascension of Isaiah, which as has been demonstrated above contains other congruent elements

with the Qur’ān.

The Angel of the Holy Spirit as “Lord” in the Ascension of Isaiah

The Ascension does not refer to any angel as “Lord.” It does however indicate the use

of this title for the angel of the Holy Spirit. Thus, as explained earlier, this angel is representative

of the Holy Spirit, the third divine person. Furthermore, when Isaiah attempts to worship the

angelus interpres, the latter prevents him (Asc. 7.21) and when Isaiah refers to him as “my

Lord” (Asc. 8.4) the angelus interpres responds, “I am not your lord, but your companion” (Asc.

8.5). However, Isaiah subsequently witnesses the believers and the angels worship the angel of

the Holy Spirit, as the angelus interpres commands him also to worship this angel (Asc. 9.33-

36). As explicated earlier, the instruction given to Isaiah to worship the angel of the Holy Spirit

is parallel to the instruction given to him concerning the worship of Christ, who is explicitly

referred to as “Lord” in this context (Asc. 9.31-32). The association of the angel of the Holy

Spirit with the angel Gabriel suggests that the latter was also perceived as a certain “Lord” who

was deeply associated with God, the greater “Lord.”

The Ascension also refers to two beings by the title “Lord.” It refers to the primal Father

as the supreme “Lord,” and to Christ as the secondary “Lord” in the same context of the worship

of the former (Asc. 9.37-10.6).837 In the annunciations of the qur’ānic nativity accounts the

intermediary “Lord,” indicating the angel Gabriel, explains to Zechariah (Q 19.9; 3.40) and

Mary (Q 19.21; 3.47) the decrees of God. In a similar manner, so also in this context in the

Ascension, Christ, referred to as “Lord,” and the angel of the Holy Spirit, who is also affiliated

with the angel Gabriel, both approach Isaiah telling him, “see how it has been given to you to

see the LORD,” referring to the primal father (Asc. 9.39). The text emphasizes the superiority of

For other references to the primal Father as “Lord,” see Asc. 8.25, 9.39-40. For references to Christ as Lord see
837

Asc. 8.9, 9.5, 13, 17, 32, 36, 39, 10.4, 6, 7, 11, 16-18, 24-25, 11.24, 26.
308
the Father, as he is worshiped by Christ and the angel of the Holy Spirit (Asc. 9.40) and is

referred to as “the Most High of the high ones” (Asc. 10.6).

The parallels between the presentation of this intermediary figure in the Qur’ān and the

Ascension are evident. The Qur’ān introduces this figure as the spirit of God (Q 19.17) and it

also refers to him by the title “Lord” (Q 19.10a; 3.40a, 41a) which it also uses for Allah (Q

19.9, 21). The congruence between these annunciations and the corresponding annunciations in

Luke’s Gospel indicates that this intermediary figure is the angel Gabriel who mediates between

God and the protagonists, Zechariah and Mary. The Ascension also indicates the title “Lord” to

the angel of the Holy Spirit while using it for God, the primal Father. It also affiliates this angel

with the angel Gabriel presenting him as an intermediary between God and humans, in this case

Isaiah.

The qur’ānic nativity accounts did not necessarily introduce the motif of the angel

Gabriel as an intermediary “Lord” through interaction with the Ascension. Nevertheless, the

use of a congruent motif in the Ascension reveals that it was known in late antiquity. The Qur’ān

could have therefore employed it through other late antique traditions.

Conclusion

Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of Mary’s encounter with the divine messenger comprises

certain elements from the theophany type-scene. In this chapter I have illustrated the sūra’s

employment of the first two of these elements: the initiation of the scene’s setting and the

manifestation of the divine. Sūrat Maryam presents Mary, in a manner analogous to biblical

characters, and particularly Hagar, as experiencing the theophany while in solitude after her

withdrawal and concealment from her people. The divine is manifested through a messenger to

whom God refers as “Our Spirit.” The correspondence between this sūra’s annunciations and

those presented in Luke’s Gospel, as well as the references in the Qur’ān and the Sīra to the

angel Gabriel as “the Spirit” or as “the Holy Spirit,” reveal that the divine messenger who
309
delivers the annunciation to Mary is none other than the angel Gabriel.

Sūrat Maryam’s choice of not explicating Gabriel’s identity is not clear, especially since

the Qur’ān does refer to him by name in other texts. The introduction of Gabriel as a spirit

clearly draws upon Jewish and Christian traditions that use the word “spirit” to indicate angels.

The association of angels with the Holy Spirit is evident in The Shepherd of Hermas which

introduces the angel of the prophetic spirit as representative of the Holy Spirit. The

identification of the Holy Spirit with the angel Gabriel is however particular to the Ascension

of Isaiah which refers to the Holy Spirit as the angel of the Holy Spirit while affiliating him

with the angel Gabriel. The possibility that the qur’ānic community was in conversation with

the Ascension, or other traditions dependent upon it, is feasible particularly since this work

originated in the same milieu of the Prot. Jas., and both works share many unique motifs.

The annunciation to Mary in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān also conceals the identity of Gabriel, as

do the annunciations to Zechariah in this sūra and Sūrat Maryam. These annunciations present

two unique motifs. The first is the depiction of a plurality of angels addressing the protagonist

who responds only to one “Lord.” The second is the introduction of the angel Gabriel as an

anonymous intermediary figure to whom the protagonists refer as “Lord,” the same title which

this figure also uses to designate Allah when referring to him in the third person as it mediates

his words and decrees.

Biblical annunciation accounts reveal corresponding motifs with these qur’ānic

accounts. The first motif of these qur’ānic annunciations could be explained in light of the

biblical notion of the divine council and its relationship to Yahweh, which also corresponds

with the qur’ānic notion of al-malā’ al-a‘lā and its association with Allah. The biblical and the

qur’ānic accounts of God’s visit to Abraham express this concept of a plurality of announcers

through their depiction of the angels’ companionship with God. These accounts further

illustrate how a text can move from the delivery of the announcement by a plurality of divine

beings to the protagonist’s conversation with a singular “Lord.”

310
 The second motif of the qur’ānic annunciations, which is clearly alien to the Qur’ān’s

concept of tawḥīd, could be explained through the biblical motif of the angel of the Lord. This

angel, in a similar manner to the intermediary figure of the qur’ānic annunciations, is deeply

associated with God, is himself identified as “Lord,” and yet he refers to God in the third person

as “Lord.” Also in this regard the Ascension seems to present a more congruent motif with the

qur’ānic texts, as it indicates that the angel of the Holy Spirit, whom it associates with the angel

Gabriel, is a “Lord.” It further depicts the angel of the Holy Spirit and Christ as subordinate

“Lords,” referring to the primal Father as the supreme “Lord,” while mediating him to the

protagonist, Isaiah.

311
 Chapter Six

Mary’s Encounter with the Angel

In the previous chapter I discussed the identity of the divine messenger in Sūrat Maryam

and the plurality of angels that address Mary in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. I Have demonstrated that the

divine messenger of Sūrat Maryam and the “Lord” of Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān are meant to be the angel

Gabriel. In this chapter I examine the angels’ interaction with Mary in both sūras. This

interaction contains many elements, and only those related to the preparation of Mary for the

conception of Jesus will be discussed.

In the first section I examine the literary and theological motifs that Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and

more so Sūrat Maryam apply in their portrayal of Mary’s encounter with the angels. In the

second section I present the mufassirūn’s commentaries on the specific elements of this

interaction, particularly those related to Mary’s preparation for the conception of Jesus. In the

third section I explore various aspects of this interaction in light of late antique traditions. I

firstly examine the qur’ānic annunciation accounts against Gospel traditions, particularly

Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. This examination will reveal that Sūrat Maryam introduces a

sexual tension in the annunciation scene that is external to Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. and

which is confirmed by the sūra itself and the expositions of the mufassirūn. I will therefore

subsequently examine this sexual tension in light of pre-Islamic Arabian as well as Jewish and

Christian traditions.

The Qurānic Text

As we saw in the preceding chapter, Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān does not provide a context for the

annunciation. It simply presents the angels addressing Mary, saying:

312
 (Q 3.42) And [mention] when the angels said: “O Mary, [indeed] Allah has

chosen you and purified you and chosen you over [all] the women of the

worlds.”

.‫ني‬ ِ ِ ِ ِ ِ ِ َّ ‫ت الْ ام اَلئِ اكةُ اَي ام ْراَيُ إِ َّن‬

ِ ‫وإِ ْذ قاالا‬
‫اصطاافاك اعلاى ن اساء الْ اعالام ا‬
ْ ‫اصطاافاك اوطا َّهارك او‬
ْ ‫اَّللا‬ ‫ا‬
(Q 3.43) “O Mary! be obedient to your Lord, prostrate yourself, and bow down

with those bowing down.”

ِ ِ َّ ‫ك واسج ِدي واراكعِي مع‬

ِ ِِ
.‫ني‬
‫الراكع ا‬ ‫اَي ام ْراَيُ اقْ نُِِت لارب ا ْ ُ ا ْ ا ا‬
The angels then deliver the annunciation to Mary:

(Q 3.45) [And mention] When the angels said: “O Mary, [indeed] Allah gives

you glad tidings of a Word from him, whose name is the Messiah, Jesus, son of

Mary, illustrious in the world and the hereafter, and from among those who are

brought near [to Allah].”

ِ ‫اَسه الْم ِس‬ ِ ٍ ِ ِ ِ ِ َّ ‫ت الْم اَلئِ اكةُ َي مراَي إِ َّن‬ ِ ِ

‫يسى ابْ ُن ام ْراَيا‬
‫يح ع ا‬
ُ ‫اَّللا يُباش ُرك ب اكل امة مْنهُ ُْ ُ ا‬ ُ ْ‫ا ا‬ ‫إ ْذ قاالا ا‬
ِ ِ ِ
‫اوج ًيها ِِف الدُّنْياا او ْاْلخارةِ اوم ان الْ ُم اقَّربِ ا‬
.‫ني‬

(Q 3.46) “And he shall speak to the people [while] in the cradle and [as] a mature

person, and [he shall be] of the virtuous.”

.‫ني‬ِِ َّ ‫وي اكلِم النَّاس ِِف الْمه ِد واكه ًَل وِمن‬

‫الصاِل ا‬ ‫اْ ا ْ ا ا‬ ‫اُ ُ ا‬
Mary responds in a question to a “Lord” who answers her:

(Q 3.47) She said, “My Lord, how shall to me be a child, when no human being

has [ever] touched me?” He said, “So [it will be], Allah creates whatever He

wills: if He decrees a matter, He merely says to it ‘be,’ and it comes into

existence.”

‫اَّللُ اَيْلُ ُق اما يا اشاءُ إِذاا قا ا‬

‫ضى‬ َّ ‫ك‬ ِ ِ‫اَّن ي ُكو ُن ِِل ولا ٌد واَل َياْسس ِِن ب اشر قا اال اك اذل‬ ِ ْ ‫قاالا‬
ٌ ‫ا اْ ا ْ ا‬ ‫ت ارب أ َّ ا‬
313
 ُ ‫أ ْامًرا فاِإََّّناا يا ُق‬
.‫ول لاهُ ُك ْن فايا ُكو ُن‬
Sūrat Maryam provides a context for the annunciation and depicts a more complex interaction

between Mary and the divine messenger. After Mary’s withdrawal from her people and her use

of the veil to screen herself from them (Q 19.16-17a), Sūrat Maryam presents God as sending

his spirit to Mary, as she engages in dialogue with the divine messenger:

(Q 19.17b) “Then We sent to her Our Spirit who was manifested to her as a

flawless human being.”

.‫َّل اَلاا با اشًرا اس ِوًَّي‬ ِ

‫وحناا فاتا امث ا‬
‫فاأ ْار اس ْلناا إلاْي اها ُر ا‬
(Q 19.18) She said, “[Lo!] I seek refuge in the Merciful One from you, if you

are pious.”

.‫ت تاِقيًّا‬ ‫ت إِِّن أاعُوذُ ًِب َّلر ْْحا ِن ِمْن ا‬

‫ك إِ ْن ُكْن ا‬ ْ ‫قاالا‬
(Q 19.19) He said, “I am but the messenger of your Lord, to grant you a pure

boy.”

ِ ‫ك ِْلاهب لا‬
.‫ك غُ اَل ًما ازكِيًّا‬ ِ ِ ُ ‫قا اال إََِّّناا أ ااًن رس‬
‫ول ارب ا ا‬ ُ‫ا‬
(Q 19.20) She said, “How shall to me be a boy, when no human being has [ever]

touched me, nor have I been a harlot?”

.‫اَّن يا ُكو ُن ِِل غُ اَل ٌم اواَلْ َياْ اس ْس ِِن با اشٌر اواَلْ أ ُاك باغِيًّا‬
َّ ‫ت أ‬
ْ ‫قاالا‬
(Q 19.21) He said, “Thus has your Lord said, ‘This is simple for me, and [it will

be] so that We would appoint him [as] a sign to humans and [a] mercy from Us;

and it is a thing decreed.”

ِ ‫َّاس ور ْْحةً ِمنَّا واكا ان أامرا م ْق‬ ِ ِ ِ‫ك هو علاي ه‬ ِ ِ‫قا اال اك اذل‬
.‫ضيًّا‬ ٌ ‫ك قا اال اربُّ ِ ُ ا ا َّ ا‬
‫ني اولنا ْج اعلاهُ آياةً للن ِ ا ا ا ا ْ ً ا‬

314
Literary Motifs

In the previous chapter, we learned that Mary’s interaction with the angel, as presented

in Q 19.16-21, comprises certain motifs that are congruent with those of biblical theophany

type-scenes. We saw that Sūrat Maryam presents the first two elements of this type-scene: the

initiation of the setting of the scene and the manifestation of the divine. Thus, Sūrat Maryam

initiates a setting in which Mary firstly separates herself from her community and only after she

is in a state of solitude the sūra introduces the divine manifestation. This section will further

examine the sūra’s presentation of the manifestation of the divine, and will also explicate its

employment of the third motif, namely the human response to the presence of the divine.

The biblical authors narrate the theophany in a temporal framework as they situate the

reader in the position of an observer witnessing the unfolding interaction between the divine

and the protagonist while perceiving the latter’s perspective and experience. In various

theophany narratives the protagonist encounters the divine initially through a visual

manifestation that leads to a verbal communication. Nevertheless, as explicated earlier, all

theophany narratives present a restricted vision of the divine emphasizing the human limitation

in perceiving and experiencing the numinous.838

The biblical accounts portray the protagonists as responding to divine manifestations by

expressing complex emotional, verbal, and in certain cases physical reactions. These reactions

can be categorized into two main kinds of responses. The first kind is captured in Otto’s famous

phrase, mysterium tremendum et fascinans. This phrase contains two perplexing and concurrent

feelings that the protagonist experiences in the theophany: the unfathomable mystery of the

divine, before which he is awestruck and remains trembling, and the fascination with the

attraction of the divine, which draws the protagonist to him.839 The second kind of response is

that of doubt. This doubt is expressed in one of two ways. The protagonist may doubt his ability

838
Savran, Encountering the Divine, 52-3.
839
Ibid., 90-91; Rudolf Otto, The Idea of the Holy (London: Oxford University Press, 1957), 12-41.
315
to perform a task assigned to him, and in certain cases may even doubt the trustworthiness of

Yahweh. In all biblical theophanies Yahweh responds to this form of doubt by encouraging the

protagonist and thus equipping him for the assignment given to him.840 The second form of

doubt is that of skepticism. In this case, the protagonist expresses a certain degree of skepticism

in response to the divine promise given in the theophany, while not fully aware of God’s

presence. The divine or his messenger respond, in certain cases, to this skepticism by

identifying it and rebuking it.841

Moses’ encounter with God in the burning bush (Exod 3.1-4.17) is a classical biblical

example of mysterium tremendum et fascinans. Moses encounters the divine while he is

pasturing the flock of Jethro. The account relates that Moses “led his flock beyond the

wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the LORD appeared to

him in a flame of fire out of a bush” (Exod 3.1-2a). After describing the manifestation of the

angel of the LORD, the narrator provides the reader with Moses’ internal discourse which

discloses that he was firstly drawn to the visual aspect of the revelation in a sort of fascination:

“he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, ‘I must turn

aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up’” (Exod 3.2b-3).842

The narrator subsequently depicts God as observing Moses’ reaction and at this stage the

account introduces the verbal dimension into the theophany by presenting God speaking with

Moses from the bush as he answers:

When the LORD saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the

bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no

closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are

standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God

840
Savran, op. cit., 91-92.
841
Ibid., 92.
842
Italics mine.
316
 of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face,

for he was afraid to look at God (Exod 3.4-6).

This passage highlights that even in this context of divine revelation, the boundaries between

the divine and the human are maintained. God asserts his holiness and the holiness of the place

of his revelation proclaiming to Moses that he is allowed to draw only to a certain level. Moses

is depicted as experiencing a mysterium tremendum as he is totally responsive to the instruction

of God and he hides his face for fear of looking at him (Exod 3.6b). Besides expressing Moses’

fear of God, the hiding of the face further indicates that from this point onward the interaction

between Yahweh and Moses is solely verbal. Through the visual dimension of the theophany

Moses experiences the fascinans mysterium which leads to the verbal dimension through which

he experiences the tremendum mysterium.843

The identification of the angel of the Lord with God in the Hebrew Bible, discussed in

the preceding chapter, is evident also in this encounter. The account firstly mentions that “the

angel of the LORD (‫ )מַ לְ אַ ְךַיְ הוָה‬appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush” (Exod 3.2), then

it states that, “when the LORD (‫ )יְ הוָה‬saw that he had turned aside to see, God (‫ )אֱֹלהִ ים‬called to

him out of the bush” (Exod 3.4). As explained earlier, the angel’s role as mediator of the divinity

is one of the interpretations offered for such biblical references to God and his angel.844

After God introduces himself to Moses, he informs him that he is aware of the Israelites’

suffering in Egypt, and that he intends to save them and lead them to another land (Exod 3.7-

9). God then gives Moses the commission, stating, “So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to

bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt” (Exod 3.10). Moses’s response to God is the most

elaborate biblical expression of doubt by a protagonist concerning a divine commission. Moses

expresses two doubts about his inability and two doubts about the Israelites’ readiness to follow

843
Ibid., 97-103.
844
As explained in the preceding chapter, one interpretation argues that the author intends to present God himself
as speaking through his angel. Another interpretation argues that God is depicted as speaking directly to the
protagonist, but the angel is introduced as a mediator since Yahweh cannot be seen. See Freedman et al., “‫מַ לְ אָ ְך‬
mal’āḵ,” 320-21.
317
him. He thus responds by saying, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites

out of Egypt?” (Exod 3.11). Moses also states that he is not eloquent and he is “slow of speech

and slow of tongue” (Exod 4.10). Moses further argues that the Israelites would ask him about

the identity of the God who sends him (Exod 3.13) and asserts that they would not believe him

(Exod 4.1). God responds to all of Moses’ doubts. He assures him that he will be with him and

will teach him what to say, and explains to him how to respond to the Israelites’ doubts and

how to talk to Pharaoh.845 Nevertheless, despite all these instructions and encouragements,

Moses asks God to send someone else instead of him (Exod 4.13). God eventually orders him

to go with his brother Aaron, who will speak in his place (Exod 4.14-17).

Sūrat Maryam’s theophany, though comprising an annunciation and not a call to lead a

people, reveals corresponding elements with the burning bush theophany. Thus, in a similar,

though not equivalent, manner to the latter account also Sūrat Maryam depicts Allah in a sense

as observing Mary when stating:

And mention in the Scripture [the story of] Mary as she withdrew from her

people to an eastern place.

And [she] took a veil (ḥijāb) apart from them, then We sent to her Our Spirit

who was manifested to her as a flawless human being (Q 19.16-17).

Allah is thus presented as acting by sending his spirit to Mary in response to her withdrawal

and concealment from her community. As explicated in the preceding chapter, Sūrat Maryam,

and in a less plain way also Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, introduce an angelic “Lord,” who is deeply

affiliated with Allah, as mediating his decree and words to Mary, in an analogous manner to

the way in which the angel of the Lord mediates Yahweh in the biblical accounts.

The mysterium tremendum et fascinans is however absent from Sūrat Maryam’s

theophany, as it is also from the analogous account in Luke’s Gospel. In a similar manner to

845
See Exod 3.12, 14-22; 4.2-9, 11-12.
318
the burning bush theophany also Sūrat Maryam presents the visual manifestation as preceding

the verbal. Mary firstly becomes aware of the appearance of the angel “who was manifested to

her as a flawless human being.” Unlike the burning bush theophany or the Lukan annunciation

account, in Sūrat Maryam Mary initiates the verbal interaction when she cries out: “I seek

refuge in the Merciful One from you, if you are pious” (Q 19.18). This reaction does not express

a fascinans mysterium. Mary is unintrigued by the manifestation and is clearly not drawn to it.

It is important to reemphasize in this context that Mary’s withdrawal and concealment

from her people and their reaction to her childbearing (Q 19.27-28) suggest that Mary is an

outcast. The text seems therefore to indicate that her withdrawal is accompanied with anxiety

and stress. Mary’s initial response in Q 19.18 might therefore be partly the result of the sudden

appearance of the angel while in this state. This possibility is further supported in that, unlike

the Lukan account where Mary responds only after the angel greets her, in Sūrat Maryam she

immediately responds to the appearance of the angel before he utters any word. Nevertheless,

Mary’s questioning of the angel’s piety indicates that her fear is one of being sexually assaulted

– a fear totally different from that produced by the mysterium tremendum depicted in biblical

theophanies and clearly absent from the Lukan annunciation. This motif will be expounded

below.

Mary, unlike Moses, is not commissioned with a task of leadership nor is she sent to her

people with a proclamation. Rather, in the qur’ānic nativity accounts as in the Lukan account,

Mary is informed of what God will do in her and through her. Nevertheless, the Qur’ān clearly

presents Mary’s virginal pregnancy and her delivery of Jesus as a special commission that is

mean to be a testimony to the whole world: “And [mention] the one who safeguarded her private

parts (farjahā) so We breathed inside her from Our Spirit (min rūḥinā) and made her and her

son a sign for the worlds” (Q 21.91).

In Sūrat Maryam, as in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, Mary does not express any skepticism or doubt

concerning God’s ability to provide her with a child. Rather, in a manner similar to the Lukan
319
account (Luke 1.34), Mary’s question concerning how she will have a child takes the form of

inquiry (Q 19.20, 3.47a). The motif of divine encouragement therefore takes a different form

due to the absence of the motif of doubt and also due to the unique presentation of the encounter.

Thus, Sūrat Maryam depicts the angel as calming Mary after she expresses fear in response to

his appearance by stating, “I am but the messenger of your Lord, to grant you a pure boy.” In

this sūra, as in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, the angel responds to Mary’s inquiry concerning to how will

she have a child though virgin by explaining that this is an easy matter for God (Q 19.21a;

3.47b). These statements provide Mary with the assurance that God is able to accomplish this

task, thereby preparing her mentally for what is to come.

Expositions of the Mufassirūn

The mufassirūn discuss many themes related to Mary’s interaction with the divine

messengers. This section will only present their expositions of the angels’ address to Mary as

someone purified and chosen by God in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān (3.42-43), Mary’s reaction to the

appearance of the angel in Sūrat Maryam (Q 19.18), Mary’s inquiry about how she will

conceive (Q 19.20, 3.47a), and the angel’s response to her inquiry (Q 19.21a, 3.47b).

Mary as Chosen Over All Women

The initial address of the angels to Mary in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān is meant to prepare her for

the annunciation and the subsequent conception of Jesus. It states: “O Mary, [indeed] Allah has

chosen you and purified you and chosen you over [all] the women of the worlds” (Q 3.42).

Commenting on this phrase, Muqātil simply states that God chose Mary over the women of the

world and purified her from sexual immorality and pain.846 Al-Qummī emphasizes that Q 3.42

mentions twice that God chose Mary. The first mention simply means that God selected Mary,

846
Muqātil, 1:275-6, on Q 3.42-43.
320
while the second refers to Mary becoming pregnant without a man, in which sense God chose

her over the women of the world.847

Al-Ṭabarī presents different interpretations of the phrase. One interpretation simply

explains that God chose Mary for her obedience and to endow her with honor. Another

interpretation emphasizes that God chose Mary over the women of her time in her obedience to

him. A third interpretation states that God purified Mary’s religion (dīn) from the skepticisms

and impurities that exist in the religions of the “women of the sons of Adam (nisā’ banī

Ādam).”848 Al-Ṭabarī also presents various traditions attributed to Muḥammad, which state that

Mary is the best of women. Some of these traditions elaborate that Mary is the best of the

women of paradise. Others add other women alongside Mary in this category.849

Al-Zamakhsharī explains that the first reference to God choosing Mary refers to God’s

acceptance of Mary from her mother, his raising of her, and his assigning her special honor.

God’s purification of Mary, al-Zamakhsharī explains, means that God purified her from unclean

deeds and from all the unclean things that the Jews attributed to her. Al-Zamakhsharī interprets

the second reference to God’s choosing Mary to refer to God granting Jesus to her without a

father, a thing that no other women enjoyed.850

Al-Rāzī also discusses the two references to Mary as chosen by God and the reference

to her purification by him. Al-Rāzī presents fives interpretations of the first reference to God’s

choosing of Mary. First is that this choosing refers to God’s acceptance of Mary as a

muḥarrarah though she was a female, a position not granted to any other female. The second

explanation is that when Mary’s mother gave birth to her, she did not feed her, as her sustenance

came from paradise. The third explanation is that God devoted Mary to his worship, and gave

her all kinds of kindness, direction, and infallibility. The fourth explanation is that God took

847
Qummī, 1:110, on Q 3.42.
848
Ṭabarī 5:392-3 and 396, on Q 3.42.
849
Ṭabarī 5:393-6, on Q 3.42.
850
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:164, on Q 3.42.
321
care of all of Mary’s livelihood, as her sustenance came to her from God. The fifth explanation

is that God made Mary hear the words of angels aurally, which was not granted to any other

female.851 Al-Rāzī also presents five interpretations of the reference to Mary’s purification by

God. God purified Mary from (1) infidelity and sin, (2) contact with men, (3) menstruation (al-

Rāzī invokes a tradition that Mary did not menstruate), (4) wretched deeds and ugly habits, and

(5) the accusations and the lies of the Jews.852

Commenting on the second reference to God’s choosing of Mary, al-Rāzī explains that

God granted her Jesus without a father and that he made Jesus speak once he was separated

from Mary so that he could testify to her innocence. He also adds that Mary was chosen in that

God made her and Jesus a sign to the world. Al-Rāzī ends his discussion by interpreting this

verse to mean that Mary is better than all women. In this regard he argues that the claim that

Mary is better only than the women of her time is a rejection of the revealed meaning (al-ẓāher)

of the text.853

Mary’s Reaction to the Angel

Sūrat Maryam relates that upon the appearance of the angel, Mary immediately

responds by saying, “I seek refuge in the Merciful One from you, if you are pious (taqiyyā)” (Q

19.18). Mary’s fear of sexual assault is expressed in the interpretations of the mufassirūn.

Muqātil and al-Qummī do not exposit the whole verse but choose rather to interpret the

adjective taqiyyā alone. Muqātil explains it to mean “loyal to God,” and al-Qummī interprets it

as “God-fearing.”854 Al-Ṭabarī records six traditions in this regard, one of which mentions that

Mary did not see anything remarkable in the messenger “except that he [was] a human being

from the sons of Adam”855 – meaning that she did not realize he was an angel. Another tradition

851
Rāzī, 8:47, on Q 3.42.
852
Ibid.
853
Rāzī, 8:47-8, on Q 3.42.
854
Muqātil, 2:623; Qummī, 2:23, both on Q 19.18.
855
Ṭabarī, 15:486, on Q 19.18.
322
explains that Mary was frightened when she saw the messenger.856 The other four traditions

merely explicate the words that Mary uttered. One simply mentions that when Mary uttered

these words, she knew that a God-fearing person could be restrained (dhu nuhyatin).857

According to another, she meant, “I seek refuge in the Merciful One from you, that you would

not attain from me what He had forbade you from, if you have any reverence to Him, revering

His prohibitions and avoiding transgressions against Him.”858 The last two traditions explicitly

state that Mary said these words because she was afraid of the messenger, who appeared in

human form, since she worried that he might “want her by herself (yurīduhā ‘alá nafsihā).”859

Al-Zamakhsharī, commenting on Q 19.18, explains that Mary told the angel that she

sought refuge in God from him if there was any hope that he might fear God. He further notes

that Mary’s seeking refuge in God from the exceptionally beautiful image of the angel, which

was meant to be a test for her, is an indication of her chastity.860 Al-Rāzī presents three

interpretations in this regard. He first mentions that Mary believed that seeking refuge in God

could have an influence only on a God-fearing (taqiyyā) person, and therefore Mary uttered

these words with the hope that the messenger might fear God. Secondly, al-Rāzī mentions that

the phrase could mean that the messenger is not God-fearing, since he found it permissible to

gaze at her and to seclude himself with her. The third explanation that al-Rāzī offers is that at

that time there was a promiscuous person called Taqiyy who followed women, and that Mary

thought that he was the one who was gazing at her.861

856
Ṭabarī, 15:487, on Q 19.18.
857
Ibid.
858
Ibid.
859
Ṭabarī, 15:486-487, on 19.18.
860
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:678, on Q 19.17-18.
861
Rāzī, 21:198-9, on 19.18.
323
The Divine Messenger as Granting the Boy

Sūrat Maryam presents the angel as responding to Mary’s words by stating, “I am but

the messenger of your Lord, to grant you a pure boy” (Q 19.19). The mufassirūn are aware of

the problem that the text introduces by presenting the angel as claiming that he, and not God,

is the one who grants Mary her child. They generally solve this problem by presenting different

readings of the phrase.

Muqātil adds the words “by the command of Allah (bi-amri Allahi)” to this phrase in

his commentary, meaning that the messenger would grant Mary a child only by God’s will.862

Al-Qummī mentions that Mary denied this statement by the messenger because it was not usual

for a woman to become pregnant without a man.863 Commenting on this phrase, al-Ṭabarī

highlights two readings (qirā’āt). He explains that the most common reading in the regions of

َ ‫)ألَه‬,
Ḥigāz and Iraq is li-’āhaba lakī (‫َب لَ ِك‬ ِ “that I may grant you” the boy. But he introduces a

second tradition according to which a certain Ābū ‘Amr bin al-‘Alā’ read this phrase as li-

yahaba lakī (‫ب لَ ِك‬

َ ‫) ِل َي َه‬, “that He [Allah] may grant you” the boy. Al-Ṭabarī argues that the former

reading is the accurate one because it is found in the copies of the Qur’ān kept by the Muslims

(maṣāḥifi al-muslimīn) and it is the reading upon which they agreed.864

Commenting on Q 19.19, al-Zamakhsharī explains that the words of the messenger

mean, “I am but the messenger of the one to whom you appealed [for help] so that I may be a

cause (sabab) in the granting of the boy through breathing in the shirt (dir‘).”865 Al-

Zamakhsharī adds that in certain copies of the Qur’ān (maṣāḥif) it is written: “I am but the

messenger of your Lord, [He] commanded me to grant you [a pure boy].”866

Al-Rāzī explains that when Gabriel realized Mary’s anxiety, he said, “I am but the

messenger of your Lord” to relieve her fear. Al-Rāzī however adds that the fear did not simply

862
Muqātil, 2:623, on Q 19.19.
863
Qummī, 2:23, on Q 19.19.
864
Ṭabarī, 15:488, on 19.19.
865
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:679, on Q 19.19.
866
Ibid.
324
disappear due to this statement, as there remained the need for proof that this messenger was

not a human being but rather Gabriel. Al-Rāzī therefore reasons that it is possible that a miracle

took place, making Mary realize that the messenger was Gabriel. It is also possible, al-Rāzī

explains, that Mary learned from Zechariah about the attributes of angels so that when the

messenger said to her, “I am but the messenger of your Lord,” he revealed to her something

from his inner being by which she knew he was an angel.867

Al-Rāzī relates that two individuals called Ibn ‘Āmir and Nāfi‘ read the words of the

messenger in Q 19.19 as “li-yahaba lakī” (that He [Allah] may grant you) while the rest of the

people read it as “li-’āhaba lakī” (that I may grant you). Al-Rāzī explains that there are two

interpretations of the latter reading. The first is that, since the granting of the boy occurred

through the angel as he breathed through Mary’s bosom (jayb) by the command of God, the

angel therefore presented himself as the one granting the boy. Al-Rāzī explains that attributing

the verb to its closest cause is conventional, as God says about idols that “they have led astray

many among the people” (Q 14.36). The second interpretation is that when Gabriel delivered

the annunciation to Mary, that honest annunciation was analogous to the grant.868

Mary’s Inquiry Concerning her Conception of Jesus

Mary’s response to the annunciation of the angel(s) is almost identical in both sūras. In

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān Mary says, “How shall to me be a child, when no human being has [ever]

touched me (lam yamsasnī basharun)?” (Q 19.20, 3.47a). Sūrat Maryam presents the same

phrase while using the word “boy” (ghulām) instead of “child” (walad), and then adds the

additional phrase “nor have I been a harlot?” (Q 19.20). Besides al-Qummī, who does not

discuss this theme, the mufassirūn used in this work explain that the first phrase implies that

867
Rāzī, 21:199, on 19.19.
868
Ibid.
325
Mary did not have a marital sexual relationship, and that the latter phrase (Q 19.20) implies that

Mary did not commit an act of sexual immorality.

Muqātil thus interprets the phrase “How shall to me be a boy [or a child], when no

human being has [ever] touched me” in both sūras to mean “How can this take place without

me having a husband?”869 Al-Ṭabarī explains Mary’s first question, “How shall to me be a boy

[or a child]?” to mean that Mary was asking whether she would have a child from a husband,

whom she would marry, or if God would create him.870 Al-Ṭabarī interprets the phrase “no

human being has [ever] touched me” as referring to legitimate (ḥalāl) sexual interaction.871 Al-

Zamakhsharī explains that “touching” (mass) in this phrase does not refer to adultery but to

legitimate intercourse, as is indicated in the Qur’ān’s use of the verb in the phrase “before you

have touched them (tamassūhun)” (Q 2.237), or the phrase “[if] you have touched (lamastum)

the women” (Q 4.43).872 Al-Rāzī also emphasizes that “touching” as used in this context refers

to legitimate intercourse and not to adultery.873

Muqātil and al-Ṭabarī simply explain Mary’s second statement, “nor have I been a harlot

(baghy),” to mean that she did not commit any act of sexual immorality. 874 Al-Zamakhsharī

explains that the word used by Mary here, baghy (‫)بَ ِغي‬, refers to the adulterous woman who

desires men (tabghy al-rijāl).875 Al-Rāzī points out that Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān does not contain this

phrase and explains that Sūrat Maraym adds it as an emphasis on Mary’s first statement: “no

human being has [ever] touched me.” Al-Rāzī mentions similar examples of repetition in the

Qur’ān, such as “maintain the prayers and the middle prayer” (Q 2.238a) or “His angels and

869
Muqātil, 2:623, on Q 19.20; 1:276, on Q 3.47
870
Ṭabarī, 15:488-9, on Q 19.20; 5:415, on Q 3.47.
871
Ṭabarī, 15:489, on 19.20.
872
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:679, on Q 19.20. Q 2.237 discusses the dowry that men should give to women if they divorce
them before having intercourse with them. Q 4.43 mentions sexual intercourse among the actions that require a
Muslim to perform the ritual of tayammum (‫ – )ت َيَ ُّمم‬a purification ritual that is conducted before prayer with sand
or earth instead of the normal ritual of wuḍū’ (‫)وضُوء‬ ُ in case of the absence of water.
873
Rāzī, 21:200, on Q 19.20.
874
Muqātil, 2:623; Ṭabarī, 15:488-9, both on 19.20.
875
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:679, on Q 19.20.
326
His messengers and Gabriel and Michael” (Q 2.98). Al-Rāzī therefore concludes that, in a

similar manner, Sūrat Maryam specifies the notion of harlotry as an additional emphasis of

sexual immorality since if Mary gives birth to a child without having a husband then the most

distasteful option of sexual immorality would be that he came as the result of harlotry.876

The Angel’s Response to Mary

Sūrat Maraym relates that the angel responds to Mary’s question about how she will

have a child without having a husband or committing an immoral act by stating, “Thus has your

Lord said, ‘This is simple for me’” (Q 19.21a). Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān mentions that the angel says,

“So [it will be], Allah creates whatever He wills: if He decrees a matter, He merely says to it

‘Be,’ and it comes into existence” (Q 3.47b). The mufassirūn, for the most part, interpret these

verses to mean literally what they state without offering any elaborate exposition of them. Al-

Qummī and al-Zamakhsharī do not even offer comments on these verses. Muqātil and al-Ṭabarī

interpret the phrase in Q 19.21a to mean that the angel is telling Mary that she will have a boy

without a husband and that it is simple for God to create a boy in her womb without her having

intercourse with a male.877

Muqātil states the same idea in his exposition of Q 3.47b. He simply adds, when

commenting on the phrase “if He decrees a matter,” that God knew that Jesus would be in

Mary’s womb without (her having intercourse with) a human being.878 Al-Ṭabarī adds that God

provides a child to whom he wills, with or without a husband, and he denies any woman he

wishes from having a child even if she has a husband. If God wishes to create anything, then

nothing will be impossible for him. God merely commands what he wants by saying, “Be,” and

what he wants comes into existence as he wishes.879 Al-Rāzī interprets both phrases to mean

876
Rāzī, 21:200-201, on Q 19.20.
877
Muqātil, 2:623, Ṭabarī, 15:489, both on Q 19.21.
878
Muqātil, 1:276, on Q 3.47.
879
Ṭabarī, 5:415, on Q 3.47.
327
that nothing that God wishes to create is denied to him, and that he does not require any tools

or substances.880

The mufassirūn do not emphasize the role of the angel’s answer in preparing Mary for

the conception of Jesus. Al-Ṭabarī simply mentions that when Mary heard the angel say “Thus

has your Lord said, ‘This is simple for me,’” she surrendered to the command of God. 881 Al-

Zamakhsharī explains that Mary was assured by the words of the angel, so he drew closer to

her and breathed into the pocket fold of her garment.882 Al-Rāzī, as mentioned above, explicates

that Gabriel realized Mary’s fear and relieved it by stating that he is the messenger of God. He

also emphasizes that this statement had however to be supported by a miracle or the revelation

of the angel’s inner being.883

The Qur’ānic Text and Late Antique Traditions

The Qur’ān’s reintroduction of Mary’s encounter with the angel(s) during the

annunciation presents elements congruent with the annunciation in the Luke’s Gospel and the

Prot. Jas. Nevertheless, the annunciation presented in Sūrat Maryam comprises unique

idiosyncrasies which indicate that the sūra was in conversation with additional traditions. The

examination of this text against Gospel traditions will demonstrate both these points. The

themes that will respectively be discussed here are the angels’ initial address to Mary as purified

and chosen by God in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān (3.42); Sūrat Maryam’s depiction of Mary’s reaction to

the appearance of the Angel; the angels’ role in the annunciation (Q 19.18-19, 3.45); Mary’s

inquiry concerning how she will conceive (Q 19.20, 3.47a); and the angel’s answer to her

inquiry (Q 19.21a, 3.47b).

880
Rāzī, 21:201, on Q 19.21 and Q 3.47.
881
Ṭabarī, 15:489, on Q 19.21.
882
Zamakhsharī, 1-2:679, on Q 19.22.
883
Rāzī, 21:199, on Q 19.19.
328
The Angels’ Initial Address to Mary

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān relates that the angels addressed Mary with the words, “O Mary,

[indeed] Allah has chosen you and purified you and chosen you over [all] the women of the

worlds” (Q 3.42). The preceding chapter argued for the possibility of correspondence between

the presentation of a plurality of angels addressing Mary in Q 3.42-43, 45 and the portrayal of

two different addresses to Mary in the Prot. Jas.’ annunciation account (PJ 11). The reference

to Mary twice as chosen in Q 3.42 corresponds with the reference to Mary twice as favored in

the annunciation of Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. Thus, Luke relates that the angel addressed

Mary first, saying, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you” (Luke 1.28).884 The angel

then tells Mary, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God” (Luke 1.30).885

Subsequently, in the magnificat Mary states: “He [the Lord] has looked with favor on the

lowliness of his servant” (Luke 1.48).886 The Prot. Jas. also mentions that Mary first heard a

voice saying, “Greetings, you who are favored! The Lord is with you. You are blessed among

women” (PJ 11.1).887 The Prot. Jas. then says that an angel told her, “Do not fear, Mary. For

you have found favor before the Master of all. You will conceive a child from his Word” (PJ

11.2).888

The reference to Mary as chosen “over [all] the women of the worlds” (Q 3.42) is not

exactly parallel to any reference in the Lukan annunciation. But corresponding phrases to Q

3.42 in this Gospel are found in Elizabeth’s blessing of Mary, in which she first states, “Blessed

are you among women” (Luke 1.42), and subsequently states, “blessed is she who believed that

there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord” (Luke 1.45). The Prot. Jas.

also mentions that the anonymous voice greeted Mary by saying, “You are blessed among

women” (PJ 11.1). The Prot. Jas. presents another more congruent parallel with Q 3.42 relating

884
Italics mine.
885
Italics mine.
886
Italics mine.
887
Italics mine.
888
Italics mine.
329
that when, during Mary’s visit to Elizabeth, the latter blesses Mary as “the mother of my Lord,”

Mary responds by saying, “Who am I, Lord, that all the women of the earth will bless me?” (PJ

12.2).889

Mary’s Reaction to the Angel

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān does not depict Mary’s reaction to the initial address of the angels.

Sūrat Maryam, as already explained, relates however that Mary responded immediately to the

angel’s appearance, before he uttered any words, by saying, “[Lo!] I seek refuge in the Merciful

One from you, if you are pious” (Q 19.18). This reaction is at variance with the one presented

in Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. In Luke’s Gospel Mary first hears the angel greeting her as

“favored” (Luke 1.28) and she becomes perplexed “by his words” (Luke 1.29). Similarly, in

the Prot. Jas. Mary is firstly greeted as “favored” by the anonymous voice, and she searches

for the source of the voice (PJ 11.1). Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. do indicate Mary’s fear

as a result of this initial encounter. Thus, Luke mentions that the angel’s first words after the

initial greeting were, “Do not be afraid, Mary” (Luke 1.30). Also in the Prot. Jas., after the

greeting by the anonymous voice, the angel begins his address to Mary by saying, “Do not fear,

Mary” (PJ 11.2).

Mary’s fear in these accounts differs greatly from the one depicted in Sūrat Maryam.

This sūra, unlike Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas., indicates in three ways that Mary was afraid

of being sexually assaulted by the angel. The first indication is disclosed in Mary’s first

reaction, as she expresses her doubt as to whether the messenger is pious or not when she states,

“I seek refuge in the Merciful One from you, if you are pious (taqiyyā)” (Q 19.18). The second

indication is found in the angel’s response to Mary saying, “I am but the messenger of your

Lord, to grant you a pure boy” (Q 19.19). The third indication is revealed in Mary’s inquiry

889
Italics mine.
330
concerning how will she conceive her announced child (Q 19.20, 3.47a). The last two themes

will be discussed subsequently.

The Angels’ Role in the Annunciation

Sūrat Maryam states that the angel responds to Mary by saying, “I am but the messenger

of your Lord, to grant you a pure boy” (Q 19.19). The first half of the angel’s response is clearly

meant to reassure Mary. He thus communicates to Mary that she should not fear him, since he

is a messenger from God. The statement may be necessary since his appearance before Mary

as “a flawless human being” (Q 19.17b) prevents her from realizing his angelic identity. As

mentioned above, the annunciation accounts of Luke and the Prot. Jas. relate that the angel

responds to Mary’s confusion by telling her not to fear (Luke 1.30; PJ 11.2). In these accounts,

however, the angel does not make any statement concerning his identity, indicating that his

appearance was sufficient to reveal to Mary that he was an angel.

The angel’s statement that he was sent by God in order “to grant (li-’āhaba) you [Mary]

a pure boy” (Q 19.19b) indicates the sexual tension in the scene by presenting the angel, and

not God, as the one who will grant Mary the child. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, to the contrary, explicitly

states that God will grant Mary the child from himself, as the angels announce, “O Mary,

[indeed] Allah gives you glad tidings of a Word from him, whose name is the Messiah, Jesus,

son of Mary” (Q 3.45). Also Luke’s Gospel presents the angel as merely informing Mary about

the birth of her forthcoming son by saying, “You have found favor with God. And now, you

will conceive in your womb and bear a son” (Luke 1.30b-31). In the Prot. Jas. the angel

similarly states, “You will conceive a child from his Word” (PJ 11.2). Sūrat Maryam’s

identification of the angel as the one who will grant the child to Mary suggests that the sūra

does not introduce the angel as a mere announcer. He is presented instead as an intermediary

figure, who will “give” the child to Mary. This idiosyncratic motif is related to the sexual

tension ingrained into the scene.

331
Mary’s Inquiry Concerning the Conception of Jesus

Sūrat Maryam further indicates the sexual tension in Mary’s reaction to the

annunciation. As explained earlier, this reaction is almost identical in both sūras. The phrase

“How shall to me be a boy (or a child), when no human being has [ever] touched me” (Q 19.20,

3.47a), common to both sūras, corresponds with Mary’s response to the annunciation in Luke’s

Gospel. The Greek text reads, “Πῶς ἔσται τοῦτο, ἐπεὶ ἄνδρα οὐ γινώσκω?” (Luke 1.34) which

is translated literally as “How will this be, since I [do] not know a man?”890 Scholars and

translators have offered numerous renditions of this verse over the centuries.891 Whatever the

more accurate translation might be, it is clear that the verse signifies that Mary was a virgin at

the time of the annunciation. This is further explicitly confirmed in the account’s statement that

“the angel Gabriel was sent by God … to a virgin (πρὸς παρθένον) engaged to a man whose

name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name (τὸ ὄνομα τῆς παρθένου) was

Mary” (Luke 1.26-27).892 The verb “know” (γινώσκω) used in Mary’s statement (Luke 1.34) is

a clear Semitism that carries the connotation of sexual interaction. The present tense of the verb

is meant to describe a state that proceeds from a continuous action practiced from the past

onward.893 Thus, by stating that she does not “know” a man, the text is declaring that Mary

never knew a man and is therefore a virgin. Mary’s response is, consequently, one of surprise

and wonder as she inquires how she will have a son. The Prot. Jas. presents Mary as asking a

less defensive question in this context. Here Mary does not refer to her virginity or her

relationship with a man but rather responds, “Am I to conceive from the living Lord God and

give birth like every other woman?” (PJ 11.2).

890
The translation is mine.
891
For the translation of Luke 1.34 in various New Testament manuscripts, see K. Luke, “The Koranic Recension
of Luke 1:34,” ITS 22, no. 4 (1985): 388-95. For modern renditions of the verse see James Reiling and Jan
Swellengrebel, A Translator’s Handbook on the Gospel of Luke (Leiden: Brill, 1971), 58-9.
892
It is not clear if Luke 1.26-35 is drawing upon Isaiah 7.10-14. Support for this claim is presented in Heinz
Schürmann, Das Lukasevangelium, vol. 1, Kommentar zu Kap. 1, 1––9, 50 (Freiburg: Herder, 1969), 62-3. Brown
argues against this reading of the text. See Raymond Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the
Infancy Narratives in Matthew and Luke (New York: Doubleday, 1993), 299-300.
893
See ibid., 289 and n. 34.
332
 Mary’s statement in Luke, “I know not a man” (Luke 1.34), presents Mary as the subject

of the sentence while using the present tense of the verb “know.” The Prot. Jas., drawing upon

Luke’s Gospel, uses a similar phrase. When Mary is asked by Joseph, and later by the high

priest, as to how she became pregnant, she responds on both occasions by stating, “I am pure

and I know not a man (καθαρά εἰμι ἐγὼ καὶ ἄνδρα οὐ γινώσκω)” (PJ 13.3, 15.3). The qur’ānic

phrase “no human being has [ever] touched me (lam yamsasnī basharun)” (Q 19.20, 3.47a)

however makes Mary the object of the sentence and “human being” its subject. It also uses the

past tense of “touch.” This phrase is more congruent with certain translations of the Diatessaron

that present Mary as the object of the sentence, with “man” or “human being” as its subject,

and use the past tense of the verb.894 Both these elements from Luke 1.34 are found in the

Diatessaron lemma that is preserved in Ephrem’s Syriac Commentary on the Diatessaron

(gabrā lā ḥekam lī), and the Arabic translation of the Diatessaron (lam ya‘rifnī rajulun), both of

which can be translated as “no man knew me.”895 The Persian Diatessaron also contains mard

ba-man narasīd, which can be rendered as “no mortals’ (man’s) hand has reached me.”896 This

might indicate that this text was mediated to the qur’ānic community through a tradition based

on the Diatessaron.897

894
See Hans Quecke, “Lk 1,34 in den alten Übersetzungen und im Protoevangelium des Jakobus,” Bib 44.4 (1963):
499-520; Luke, op. cit., 381-99. Quecke points to the fact that Mary’s equivalent answer in the Qur’ān, lam
yamsasnī basharun, is mentioned in Q 19.20 and Q 3.47 (Quecke refers to the verse as Q 3.42 instead of Q 3.47
because he relies on Flügel’s edition of the Qur’ān). See Quecke, op. cit., 514 and n. 4. Evidence indicates that the
Diatessaron contained the entire account of the annunciation to Zechariah and also to Mary (Lk 1.5-79). The order
of the different versions of the Diatessaron is charted in Louis Leloir, “Le Diatessaron de Tatien,” OrSyr 1 (1956):
216-227.
895
Hans Quecke, “Lk 1,34 im Diatessaron,” Bib 45, no. 1 (1964): 85-88; Luke, op. cit., 392-3.
896
Quecke, “Lk 1,34 in den alten Übersetzungen,” 508; Luke, op. cit., 394.
897
See Quecke, op. cit., 514-5. Luke is more assertive in this regard as he states that “the Koranic version of Lk
1:34 … was ultimately inspired by the special reading created by Tatian. It is common knowledge that the
Diatessaron was most popular among the Syrians … and Syrian monks who were active in Arabia seem to have
been responsible for the spread of the Diatessaronic reading of Lk 1:34 among Arab Christians.” See Luke, “The
Koranic Recension of Luke 1:34,” 395. Witztum is hesitant to accept this conclusion, arguing that “the Quranic
version could have arisen independently under the influence of perceptions of male activity and female passivity,”
indicating that the root m. s. s. (.‫ س‬.‫ س‬.‫ )م‬is used in the Qur’ān to denote sexual activities in which the active role
is always reserved for men. Witztum, however, concludes that the existence of a correspondence between both
elements in tandem – Mary as the object and the change in the tense of the verb – in the Diatessaronic witnesses
makes the argument stronger. See Witztum, “The Syriac Milieu of the Quran,” 48-9 and n. 177.
333
 As the discussion of the mufassirūn’s exposition makes clear, the verb “touch” (‫)مسس‬

can mean “have sexual intercourse with.” This use of the verb is confirmed by other qur’ānic

references.898 Mary’s statement that no human being has ever touched her should be understood

to mean that she did not have sexual intercourse. This phrase corresponds perfectly with the

analogous statements in Luke’s Gospel (Luke 1.34) and the Prot. Jas. (PJ 13.3, 15.3). The

additional phrase “nor have I been a harlot” (Q 19.20), introduced in Sūrat Maryam, accentuates

the sexual tone of the text.

The Angel’s Answer to Mary’s Inquiry

Sūrat Maryam relates that the angel answered Mary by telling her that God said, “This

is simple for me, and [it will be] so that We would appoint him [as] a sign to humans and [a]

mercy from Us; and it is a thing decreed” (Q 19.21). Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān mentions that the angel

told Mary, “So [it will be], Allah creates whatever He wills: if He decrees a matter, He merely

says to it ‘Be,’ and it comes into existence” (Q 3.47b). Neither sūra presents the angel as

offering much personal encouragement to Mary, besides pointing to God’s ability to perform

this act of causing her to conceive.

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān indicates that Jesus will be created ex nihilo, as God will simply say

“Be,” and Jesus will come into existence. This statement is restated in two more references that

appear in both sūras. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān affirms, outside its nativity account, that “The similitude

of Jesus before Allah is as the similitude of Adam; He created him from dust, then said to him:

‘Be,’ and he came into existence” (Q 3.59). Sūrat Maryam states at the end of its nativity

account that “It is not [befitting] for Allah that He would take a child; praise be to Him. If He

[has] decreed a matter, He merely says to it ‘Be,’ and it comes into existence” (Q 19.35).

898
The verbal derivatives of the Arabic root .‫ س‬.‫ س‬.‫ م‬can be translated literally to mean “touch.” In contexts of
calamity or disaster they usually mean “befall” or “afflict” (Q 3.140; 7.95; 10.12; 30.33; 39.8, 49). However, when
the derivatives of .‫ س‬.‫ س‬.‫ م‬are used of the relationship between a man or a woman, they normally mean “to have
sexual intercourse.” This use of the verb is clear in Q 33.49 and Q 2.236-7. See DQU, 882-3.
334
 These qur’ānic statements clearly differ from the answer of the angel in Luke’s Gospel

and the Prot. Jas. Luke thus mentions that the angel answered Mary by saying:

And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name

him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High (υἱὸς

Ὑψίστου) … The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most

High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will

be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also

conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.

For nothing will be impossible with God (Luke 1.31-32a, 35-37).

The Prot. Jas. relates that the angel answered Mary saying,

Not so, Mary. For the power of God will overshadow you. Therefore the holy

one born from you will be called the Son of the Highest (υἱὸς Ὑψίστου). And

you will name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins (PJ 11.3).

The last phrase clearly draws upon the message that the angel delivers to Joseph in Matthew’s

Gospel: “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the

Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people

from their sins” (Matt 1.20-21).899

The angel’s response in the Lukan account carries the most obvious encouragement to

Mary. The angel first explains that the Holy Spirit will overshadow her, and that for this reason

her son “will be holy” and “will be called Son of God” (Luke 1.35). The angel furthermore

encourages Mary by telling her that even her relative Elizabeth, who was barren, has also

conceived a son in her old age (Luke 1.36). The angel finally states that nothing is impossible

for God (Luke 1.37). The Prot. Jas. similarly depicts the angel as explaining to Mary that the

899
Both texts use an identical Greek phrase: καὶ καλέσεις τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ Ἰησοῦν· αὐτὸς γὰρ σώσει τὸν λαὸν
αὐτοῦ ἀπὸ τῶν ἁμαρτιῶν αὐτῶν (and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins) (PJ
11.3; Matt 1.21).
335
power of God will overshadow her and that “the holy one” born from her “will be called the

Son of the Highest” (PJ 11.3). The Prot. Jas. and Matthew’s Gospel both mention that Mary’s

son should be called Jesus because “he will save his people from their sins” (PJ 11.3; Matt

1.21).

Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān reintroduce the themes raised in the encounter

between Mary and the angels in a way that is consistent with the Qur’ān’s view of Jesus. These

qur’ānic texts deliberately avoid mentioning basic motifs that are essential to the Christian

doctrine and traditions with which they are in conversation. Thus, Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān emphasize that Jesus is created inside Mary ex nihilo, and not conceived through the

Holy Spirit as the Gospels of Matthew and Luke state, or by God breathing into Mary from his

Spirit as Sūrat al-Anbiyā’ and Sūrat al-Taḥrīm mention (Q 21.91; 66.12). Furthermore, the

Qur’ān does not merely avoid referring to Jesus by the title “son of God” as the infancy accounts

of Matthew, Luke and the Prot. Jas. do. Rather, it explicitly negates this Christian belief, in this

context as well as elsewhere. Thus, Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān, stripping any divine

attributes from Jesus, emphasize that his sonship is not to God but rather to Mary calling him

“Jesus, son of Mary” (Q 19.34; 3.45).900 Sūrat Maryam, moreover, refers to him as a “boy

(ghulām)” (Q 19.19-20) and a “child (walad)” (Q 19.35). The qur’ānic accounts naturally also

eschew any reference to Jesus’ role in the forgiveness of sins, in contrast to Matthew’s Gospel

and the Prot. Jas.

The qur’ānic nativity accounts seem however to share three main theological points with

the Christian traditions. Thus, the angel’s announcement that Mary’s forthcoming child will be

“a pure boy” (Q 19.19) is congruent with the angel’s announcement in Luke’s Gospel that “the

child to be born will be holy” (Luke 1.35) and with the angel’s reference to Jesus in the Prot.

Jas. as “the holy one” (PJ 11.3). The responses to Mary’s inquiry about her conception of a

900
Sūrat Maryam rejects Jesus’ divine sonship more vigorously again in Q 19.88-93.
336
child by the statements “Thus has your Lord said, ‘This is simple for me’” (Q 19.21) and “So

[it will be], Allah creates whatever He wills” (Q 3.47) are congruent with the conclusion of the

annunciation in Luke’s Gospel by the angel’s statement, “For nothing will be impossible with

God” in Luke’s Gospel (Luke 1.37). The angels’ use of the title “the Messiah” (Q 3.45) for

Jesus in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān is obviously in agreement with the Christian tradition. However, the

reference to Jesus as “a Word from Him [God]” in the same phrase (Q 3.45) clearly echoes the

Johannine tradition.

The qur’ānic nativity accounts do not suggest that Mary was encouraged as a result of

her interaction with the angels, as she is in Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. when she responds

by saying, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (Luke

1.38).901 Neither Sūrat Maryam nor Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān depict Mary’s reaction to the annunciation.

Sūrat Maryam seems rather to present Mary as withdrawing while remaining in a state of

distress (Q 19.22-23).

The Sexual Tension in Sūrat Maryam

The sexual tone revealed in Mary’s encounter with the angel in Sūrat Maryam is evident

in other elements beyond this scene. The sūra presents Mary as conceiving Jesus immediately

after the annunciation and withdrawing for the second time to a remote place in a way that

suggests secrecy and shame (Q 19.22). While suffering the birth-pangs, Mary wishes she had

died and had been forgotten, probably due to her shame (Q 19.23). When Mary returns to her

people with the newborn Jesus, her fears are realized as her people accuse her of committing

adultery, telling her that “Your father was not a man of evil, nor was your mother a harlot (‫”) َب ِغيًّا‬

(Q 19.28).

901
Cf. PJ 11.3.
337
 The accusation against Mary by her people, as explicated earlier, seems to draw upon

the public scandal which she experiences in the Prot. Jas. Nevertheless, Sūrat Maryam’s choice

of the same word “harlot” (‫)بَ ِغي‬, both when Mary is accused by her people (Q 19.28) and in her

reaction to the annunciation (Q 19.20) suggests that the sūra is introducing a link between both

themes. Considering the reverence that the Qur’ān bestows on Mary, the question that should

be asked here is why Sūrat Maryam presents this sexual tension at all in the annunciation scene.

This nonconformist portrayal of the interaction indicates that Sūrat Maryam is introducing

motifs external to Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. The two themes introduced here – that

angels could assault women and have sexual intercourse with them, and that Mary conceived

Jesus through adultery – were both widespread in late antiquity. The Qur’ān expresses

awareness of both themes, as will be demonstrated below.

Slander Against Mary’s Purity

Jewish and pagan traditions, as explained earlier, comprise certain tales that accuse

Mary of conceiving Jesus through adultery.902 The Qur’ān is very aware of the slander against

Mary’s purity and attributes it particularly to the Jewish people, as Q 19.27a-28 indicates. As

mentioned above, a more explicit reference to this theme is found in Sūrat al-Nisa’:

The People of the Scripture ask you to send down upon them a scripture from

heaven, [as] they have indeed asked Moses [for a miracle] greater than that …

And We lifted up the mountain over them at [the taking of] their covenant and

We said to them, “Enter the gate [while] prostrating” and We said to them,

“Transgress not the Sabbath” and We took from them a firm covenant.

Therefore, in their breaking of their covenant, and their disbelieving in the

revelations of Allah, and their killing of the prophets unjustly …

902
See Pages 9-13.
338
 And in their disbelief, and in their uttering against Mary a grievous calumny;

And [for] their saying, “[Indeed] we have killed the Messiah, Jesus, son of Mary,

the messenger of Allah,” and they did not kill him, and they did not crucify him,

but its seemed to them [that they did] … (Q 4.153-157).

Though this paragraph begins by referring to “the People of the Scripture,” the specific

references to the breaking of the Sabbath and the killing of the Messiah indicate beyond a doubt

that the Jews alone are being condemned in this context.

These references make it clear that though the Qur’ān expresses its awareness of this

theme, it raises it only in order to refute it. Thus, in Sūrat Maryam Mary’s accusers are silenced

when Jesus testifies in the cradle to his identity and mission (Q 19.29-33). In Sūrat al-Nisa’ the

slander against Mary is defined as “a grievous calumny” (Q 4.156). The Qur’ān further

emphasizes numerous times that Mary remained a virgin. In Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-

‘Imrān, Mary emphasizes that she was not touched by a man (Q 19.20; 3.47a). Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

also states that Jesus was created directly by God (Q 3.47, 59), indicating that he was not born

as a result of Mary’s intercourse with a man. Sūrat al-Anbiyā’ and Sūrat al-Taḥrīm mention

that Mary “safeguarded her private parts (farj)” and that she became pregnant as God breathed

into her from his Spirit (Q 21.91; 66.12).

Therefore, in light of the Qurān’s defense of Mary, the pending question is why does

Sūrat Maryam introduce sexual tension between Mary and the angel in its annunciation scene?

The answer to this question is to be sought in pre-Islamic traditions, which Sūrat Maryam seems

to draw upon. The Qur’ān reveals the clear influence of two traditions that can explain this

tension. The first is the pre-Islamic Arabian beliefs concerning sexual interaction between

women and Jinn. The second is the Watchers tradition, which relates such interactions between

fallen angels and women. The Qur’ān’s interaction with both traditions will be subsequently

examined.

339
The Jinn, Angels and Women in Pre-Islamic Arabia and the Qur’ān

The Qur’ān does not refer to the possibility of sexual interaction between angels and

women. Nevertheless, the Qur’ān explicitly refers to the possibility of sexual interaction

between the Jinn and the ḥūr, while not clearly distinguishing between the Jinn and the angels.

This blurring of the lines between spiritual beings, as will shortly be demonstrate, originates in

pre-Islamic Arabia.

The Jinn and the Angels in Pre-Islamic Arabia

Our knowledge of the religious world of the pre-Islamic Arabs remains limited due to

the paucity of sources. Pre-Islamic poetry and Arabian inscriptions provide very limited

knowledge of the religious beliefs and practices of the inhabitants of this milieu. The Qurān and

the Sīra, Ḥadīth, and Tafsīr literature as well as Islamic historiographies discuss these beliefs

and practices only in relationship to Islam and with a clear apologetical tone.903 Nevertheless,

a critical evaluation of these sources does offer certain insights into these themes.

The Arab inhabitants of Arabia were predominantly polytheists until the introduction of

Judaism and Christianity into their region in the fourth century.904 The image that emerges from

the various sources is that of a pre-Islamic Arabia in which the unseen, spiritual world occupied

a vital space in the lives of the communities. The polytheist Arab tribes worshiped numerous

gods, whom they affiliated with cosmic and natural forces such as birth, fertility, death, rain

and land. They sought to influence them, as well as to avoid their anger, by offering sacrifices

to them.905 Each Arab tribe also had its own specific god or gods, beside the other general gods.

903
Jawād ‘Ali, Al-Mufaṣṣal fi Tārīkh al-‘Arab qabla al-Islām, vol. 6 (Baghdad: Baghdad University, 1993), 11-
14. Even books such as Ibn al-Kalbī’s The Book of Idols (Kitāb al-Aṣnām) and other works depending upon it that
focus on this theme do not offer an in-depth analysis but rather a polemical description of pre-Islamic polytheism.
Furthermore, these works contain contradictions and their discussion is mainly limited to the polytheism of the
tribes of Ḥijāz.
904
Robert Hoyland, Arabia and the Arabs: From the Bronze Age to the Coming of Islam (London: Routledge,
2001), 139.
905
‘Ali, op. cit., 705; Hoyalnd, op. cit., 139-40.
340
However, already before the rise of Islam, the Arab tribes of Ḥijāz, Najd, Iraq, and the Levant

seem to have begun forsaking the worship of their gods and adopting a monotheistic belief in a

main god, Allah, whom they believed to be superior to all the other gods.906

In this milieu, spirits and spiritual beings played a great role in the life of the individual

who prayed to them believing that his happiness or misery lay in their hands.907 These beings

included the angles and primarily the Jinn. From Islamic references to the beliefs of pre-Islamic

Arabs, we can conclude that the polytheist Arabs drew a certain distinction between the Jinn

and the angels, but they also attributed to them certain principal characteristics and functions

that overlapped, and they also associated both beings with their gods.908 One possible reason

for the conflation between angels and Jinn in the minds of pre-Islamic Arabs is that the Arabic

root j. n. n. (.‫ ن‬.‫ ن‬.‫ )ج‬indicates all that is invisible and mysterious, including the Jinn and the

angels.909

The origin of the notion of the Jinn is not clear.910 The term “Jinn” seems however to

have been mediated to Arabic from Aramaic, in which the word genē means “hidden” and the

plural, genēn, refers to “hidden things” and indicates a group of minor deities or evil spirits.911

The pre-Islamic Arabs did not think of the Jinn merely as spiritual creatures. Though generally

invisible and mysterious, the Jinn were also believed to have a physical element. The Jinn were

thus believed to eat, drink, be injured, and even killed. The Jinn could also take any physical

appearance, whether of humans, animals, or other creatures, whenever they wanted. 912 Arabs

believed that the Jinn could dwell anywhere, including the homes of humans, the seas, and the

906
‘Ali, op. cit., 119.
907
Ibid., 705-6.
908
Joseph Chelhod, Les structures du sacré chez les Arabes (Paris: Maisonneuve et Larose, 1964), 78-81.
909
Lisān, vol. 2, 385-7; Muḥīṭ, 1187; Tāj, vol. 34, 364-72, esp. 370-72.
910
For a discussion of the theme see Joseph Henninger, “Beliefs in Spirits among the Pre-Islamic Arabs,” in Magic
and Divination in Early Islam, ed. Emilie Savage-Smith (Aldershot, U.K.: Ashgate, 2004), 47-51.
911
William Albright, “Islam and the Religions of the Ancient Orient,” JAOS 60, no. 3 (1940): 292. Albright also
points out that the Syriac translation of the Bible, the Peshīṭtā, and the Syriac Fathers use the derivative genyāthā
to indicate pagan deities and sanctuaries or demons. See ibid., 292-3. Henninger presents a survey of the different
possible linguistic origins of the word “Jinn,” including the view of Albright. See Henninger, op. cit., 44-7.
912
‘Ali, op. cit., 717; Henninger, op. cit., 27-9.
341
heavens. Arabs however believed that the Jinn prefer to dwell primarily in desolate places, such

as the deserted locales of perished civilizations, places beneath the earth, wells, deserts, valleys,

trees and the like.913

The Arabs also believed the Jinn to be divided into male and female and to have the

ability to reproduce.914 They further believed that, in a manner similar to Arabian communities,

the society of the Jinn also followed a tribal structure being made of tribes and clans that are

connected through kinship, and that they had kings, governors, and heads of tribes. These

communities acted in a solidarity roughly equivalent to the ‘asabiyyah of the Arab tribes,

according to which the collective supersedes the individual and they fought each other and

invaded one another.915 The Arabs distinguished different kinds of Jinn, such as the Ghūl,

Si‘lāh, and Shaq and Shayṭān, ascribing to each different genders, characteristics, and

images.916

The Jinn were believed to be morally neutral. Their actions, whether harmful or helpful,

were impulsive and unpredictable.917 The Jinn could thus kidnap children, women, or men.

Arabs also attributed to the Jinn many unnatural phenomena such as diseases, plagues, epilepsy,

and especially madness, as they believed that the Jinn could posses a person, making him insane

(majnūn). They could also disturb the sexual function of humans.918 The Jinn could attack

humans physically and kill them. This is particularly the case when one of them is killed by a

human, as the solidarity between the Jinn leads them to avenge his killing.919 Notwithstanding,

the Jinn could also establish amicable and friendly relationships with humans, eat with them,

and be helpful to them, especially if humans became close to them and helped them. The Jinn

913
‘Ali, op. cit., 718; Henninger, op. cit., 30-32.
914
Henninger, op. cit., 27.
915
‘Ali, op. cit., 711; Henninger, op. cit., 28.
916
See ‘Ali, op. cit., 728-36. It is important to emphasize here that the Shaytān of the pre-Islamic era is different
from the qur’ānic Shaytān, who is associated with Satan in the Judeo-Christian tradition. The Shaytān of al-
Jāhilīyah was considered to be a Jinn who was crafty, cunning, and ugly. See ibid., 731-33.
917
Henninger, op. cit., 35.
918
‘Ali, op. cit., 723-4; Henninger, op. cit., 32-3.
919
‘Ali, op. cit., 711-4.
342
could also speak audibly to warn humans about dangers or provide guidance.920 The Jinn were

moreover believed to speak of the past, report events as they occurred, predict the future, play

instruments in the night, compose poetry, and deliver eulogies over certain humans.921

Jinn and humans could fall in love with one another, have sexual intercourse, produce

offspring, and establish kinship. This could take place either between a man and a female Jinn,

jinnīyah, or a woman and a male Jinn, jinnī.922 Different views seem to have existed concerning

the offspring of such intercourse. According to one set of traditions, the union between humans

and Jinn could produce offspring that was completely human. Thus, a certain Khawṣ bin

Ḥuwayl, also called al-Dajjāl, was said to have been born from a union between his father,

Ḥuwayl, and a jinnīyah.923 In this manner, various Arab tribes were believed to have sprang out

of union between humans and Jinn.924 According to another set of traditions, sexual interaction

between Jinn and humans could produce hybrid creatures. The Arabs believed, for example,

that guenon monkeys were the result of intercourse between humans and the Shaq.925

Arabs seem to have believed that similar interactions took place also between humans

and angels. Thus, the ninth-century polymath al-Jāḥiẓ relates the following tradition concerning

Gurhum – who was believed to be the ancestor of the tribe that ruled Mecca, after the direct

descendants of Ishmael ruled over it:926

And they have mentioned that Gurhum was the result of that which is [took

place] between the angels and the daughters of Adam, and he was an angel from

the angels; as he disobeyed his Lord in the heaven, He [Allah] made him descend

920
Ibid., 712, 716 and 725; Henninger, op. cit., 33-5.
921
‘Ali, op. cit., 721-4.
922
Ibid., 714-5.
923
See Abū al-Ḥasan ‘Alī al-Mas‘ūdī, Akhbār al-Zamān, vol. 1 (Beirut: Dar al-Andalus, 1996), 122.
924
‘Ali, op. cit., 714; Maḥmūd ibn ‘Abdullāh al-Alūsī, Bulūgh al-’Arab fī Ma‘rifat Aḥwāl al-‘Arab, vol. 2 (Beirut:
Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmīyah, 2009), 340-41.
925
Abū ‘Uthman ‘Amr al-Jāḥiẓ, Kitāb al-Haywān, vol. 1 (Cairo: Sharikat, Maktabat wa-Maṭba‘at Muṣṭafá al-Babī
al-Ḥalabī, 1965), 189.
926
For a discussion of the theme see Toufic Fahd, La divination arabe. Études religieuses, sociologiques et
folkloriques sur le milieu natif de l’Islam (Leiden: Brill, 1966), 70-71.
343
 to the earth in the image of a man, and in his [the angel’s] nature, as He [Allah]

did with Hārūt and Mārūt when [what] was of their case [took place], and [of]

the case of al-Zuhrah, and she is Anāhīd, whatsoever was [took place], so when

few angels disobeyed Allah and He made him [the angel] descend to the earth

in the image of a man, he married the mother of Gurhum and so she begot for

him a Gurhum.927

The conflation between the Jinn and the angels is evident in this context. In one of his

epistles, al-Jāḥiẓ mentions a tradition according to which Balqīs, the queen of Sheba, had a

human father while her mother was a female Jinn.928 However, in Kitāb al-Haywān (Book of

the Animals) al-Jāḥiẓ relates that Balqīs was born from an encounter between an angel and a

human.929 It is difficult to imagine that this conflation was the result of a lack of distinction

between the Jinn and the angels on the part of al-Jāḥiẓ. It could therefore have resulted due to

a mistake on his part or from a conflation in the pre-Islamic Arabian traditions that were

mediated to him. It is however impossible to provide a satisfactory statement in this regard,

since our knowledge of pre-Islamic Arab beliefs regarding the angels remains almost totally

dependent on Islamic sources.

The Arabic word for angels, malā’ikah (‫) َمَل ِئكَة‬, was probably mediated to the polytheist

Arabs long before the birth of Islam, probably from Ethiopic origin through the Christians or

from Hebrew through the Jews.930 The Qur’ān indicates that the concept of “angel” underwent

significant modification in this polytheist Arab milieu. The Qur’ān implies that the Meccans

927
Al-Jāḥiẓ, Kitāb al-Haywān, vol. 1, 187.
928
Abū ‘Uthman ‘Amr ibn Baḥr al-Jāḥiẓ, Rasā’il al-Jāḥiẓ, vol. 2 (Cairo: Maktabat al-Khānjī, 1979), 371. Al-Jāḥiẓ
emphasizes that Balqīs was believed to have been fully human.
929
See al-Jāḥiẓ, Kitāb al-Haywān, vol. 1, 187-8.
930
See FV 269-70. Jeffery asserts that “there could be little doubt” that the source of the Arabic malā’ikah is
Ethiopic. Ibid., 269. Jeffery also argues that the term was known to Arabs long before Islam, since the Qur’ān
assumes the familiarity of its audience with it and also because the form of the word appears in north Nabatean
inscriptions. Ibid., 269-70. See also Philip Hitti, History of the Arabs: From the Earliest Times to the Present
(London: Macmillan, 1970), 106 and n. 2. Chelhod explains that malā’ikah had to penetrate very early into the
vocabulary of the Arabs of Ḥijāz through Ethiopian or Aramean. See Chelhod, Les Structures du sacré chez les
Arabes, 78.
344
believed that angels were sent down to prophets from heaven (Q 6.8; 11.12), and that prophets

had the authority to make angels descend from heaven to earth (Q 17.92). The Qur’ān also

indicates that the Meccans associated these angels with their gods. Sūrat al-’Isrā’ thus asks

those who associate with Allah other gods (Q 17.39), “Has your Lord [then] preferred for you

the sons, and taken [for himself], from the angels, females?” (Q 17.40). This rhetorical question

is basically meant to ridicule the practice of those mushrikūn who chose to have only sons –

probably by practicing infanticide through burying female infants alive – while claiming that

their god chose to have only female angels as daughters.931 Sūrat al-Najm analogously asks the

polytheists, “Have you [then] seen al-Llāt and al-‘Uzzá and Manāt, the third, the other? Is the

male for you and the female for Him [Allah]?” (Q 53.19-21). The parallelism between both

questions suggests that the Qur’ān perceives the Meccan polytheists to identify these female

goddesses with angels. This conclusion is further confirmed by the rest of this qur’ānic unit,

which states:

These [goddesses] are but names [which] you and your fathers have named, in

which Allah has sent down no authority … And how many an angel is [there] in

the heavens whose intercession does not avail at all … [surely] those who do not

believe in the hereafter name the angels with female names (Q 53.23a, 26-27).

Sūrat Saba’ sheds more light on the Qur’ān’s understanding of this polytheistic worship:

And [on the] day when He [Allah] will gather them all and then say to the angels

“was it you that these used to worship?” They shall say, “Glory be to You. You

are our patron apart from them, but they used [rather] to worship the Jinn, most

of them believe in them [the Jinn]” (Q 34.40-41).

Considering these qur’ānic units alongside each other reveals that the qur’ānic community

perceived the Meccan polytheists to worship goddesses believing them to be female angels, or

931
Cf. Q 43.16. Q 43.19 and Q 53.27 also argue that “non-believers” refers to angels as females. The act of
infanticide is explicitly mentioned and condemned in Q 81.8-9 and is indicated in Q 16.58-59.
345
at least associated with female angels, who were the daughters of Allah. The Qur’ān argues,

however, that the real spiritual beings that were being worshiped through these goddesses were

not angels but rather the Jinn.932 This reading is further confirmed by a Muslim tradition that

the polytheists of Quraysh built a home for the goddess al-‘Uzzá, in which they used to hear

her voice. When the early Muslim community regained Mecca, Muḥammad instructed Khālid

ibn al-Walīd to cut down certain palm trees, and when he did so he found al-‘Uzzá, who was

hidden inside one of them, in an image of a demon (shayṭānah) – so he killed her.933

Sūrat al-Ṣāffāt and Sūrat al-An‘ām offer additional insights into the qur’ānic

community’s understanding of the Arab polytheistic belief concerning the relationship between

Allah, the Jinn, and the angels. Sūrat al-Ṣāffāt states:

Then inquire [from them] whether to your Lord [are] the daughters and to them

[are] the sons.

Or have We created the angels [as] females while they are witnesses?

Truly [it is] from their [own] invented lies they say,

“Allah has begotten,” and [verily] they are liars.

Has He [then] chosen daughters over sons?

What is [wrong] with you? How do you judge? Will you not receive admonition?

Then produce your scripture if you are truthful.

And they have made up between Him [Allah] and the Jinn kinship (nasaban),

and the Jinn knew well that they will be brought up [before Allah].

Exalted is Allah above what they describe (Q 37.149-159).

The Qur’ān restates here that the polytheists believed that the angels were the daughters of

Allah. This qur’ānic unit seems however to indicate that these polytheists believed those angels

to be the product of union between Allah and the Jinn, as it states that “they have made up

932
Chelhod, op. cit., 78-80.
933
See Al-Alūsī, Bulūgh, vol. 2, 203-5.
346
between Him [Allah] and the Jinn kinship” (Q 37.158a). This notion of kinship is evoked again

in Sūrat al-An‘ām:

And [yet] they ascribed to Allah associates (shurakā’): the Jinn, while He

created them, and they have falsely attributed to Him sons and daughters without

knowledge. Exalted is He and high above what they describe.

[He is] the originator of the heavens and the earth. How can to Him be a child

while to Him there was no female consort? And He has created all things and

He is of everything [all] knowing (Q 6.100-101).

The association (shirk) of other beings with Allah usually entails that they are believed in or

worshiped as gods alongside him. The reference to the Jinn in Q 6.100 as the associates of Allah

indicates a sexual union, as the same verse immediately mentions that these polytheists “have

falsely attributed to Him [Allah] sons and daughters” and the subsequent verse asks, “How can

to Him [Allah] be a child while to Him there was no female consort?” (Q 6.101).

This reading of the qur’ānic text is further confirmed by a very common Islamic tradition

that is already found in the eight-century tafsīr attributed to Mujāhid ibn Jabr. Commenting on

Q 37.158, this tafsīr relates that the disbelievers (kuffār) of Quraysh claimed that “the angels

are the daughters of Allah.” Abū Bakr al-Ṣiddīq therefore asked them, “Who then are their [the

angels’] mothers?” They answered: “the daughters of the eminents of the Jinn.”934 This tradition

is cited also in Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī and numerous other Islamic works.935

As mentioned above, it is difficult to discern the accuracy of the Islamic portrayal of the

Arab polytheist beliefs. Nevertheless, the Qur’ān’s obsession with these beliefs, particularly

regarding the Jinn and the angels, demonstrates that the qur’ānic community was in direct

confrontation with these beliefs as living traditions. The image that emerges from these sources

clearly suggests that those polytheists did associate, and maybe even conflate, the angels with

934
Mujāhid ibn Jabr, Tafsīr al-Imām Mujāhid bin Jabr (Cairo: Dār al-Fikr al-Islamī al-Ḥadīthah, 1989), 571.
935
Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ, 811.
347
the Jinn to a certain degree. As the subsequent discussion demonstrates, the Qur’ān, though

condemning these beliefs, seems nevertheless to be influenced by them in a certain way as it

also blurs the lines between both spiritual beings at times.

The Jinn and the Angels in the Qur’ān

The emerging qur’ānic community incorporated the Jinn into its system of beliefs from

the religious traditions of pre-Islamic Arabia and other parts of the Near East. The Qur’ān

subjected the Jinn to God, reducing their power and authority from that of gods or protecting

deities by redefining them as supernatural sentinel beings that can be either good or evil.936 The

Qur’ān thus denied the Jinn the ability to know the future and the secrets of the invisible

world.937

The Qur’ān always refers to the Jinn in the plural as a group (al-Jinn) and speaks of

nations of Jinn (Q 7.38). The division of the universe into the two worlds of Jinn and humans

is fundamental to the cosmology of the Qur’ān. It refers to both groups numerous times by the

phrase “the humans and the Jinn” (al-’insi w-al-Jinni).938 The Qur’ān states that the main

purpose for which God created the Jinn, alongside humans, was that they might worship him

(Q 51.56). It also mentions that God sent messengers to both groups, relating to them his

revelation and warning them (Q 6.130). It also relates an incident in which a group of the Jinn

listened to the recitation of the Qur’ān, believed in it, and were guided to right-mindedness (Q

72.1-2). Like humans, the Jinn are also held accountable before God and will also be judged by

him in the final judgment (Q 55.39; 6.128a), as some of them will be delivered to eternal

punishment in hell (Q 6.128b; 7.38, 179).939

936
Amira El-Zein, “Jinn,” MIC, I: 420; Jacqueline Chabbi, “Jinn,” EQ, III: 43.
937
Ibid., 43. Q 34.12 relates that the Jinn kept serving King Solomon even after he died, not being aware of his
death, indicating that they have no knowledge of the “unseen” or “unknown” (Ghayb).
938
Chabbi, “Jinn,” 46. In certain cases the phrase mentions Jinn first and then humans (al-Jinni wal-’insi). See
7.38, 179; 27.17; 41.25, 29; 46.18; 51.56. A direct address to both groups is found however only twice in the
Qur’ān. See 6.130; 55.33.
939
El-Zein, “Jinn,” 420-21.
348
 The Qur’ān indicates a connection between Satan and the Jinn in three main contexts.

The first is related to their origin: the Qur’ān states that God created both Satan and the Jinn

from fire.940 The Qur’ān secondly associates the Jinn with Satan’s rebellion against God and

his expulsion from paradise. All these accounts refer to Satan as Iblīs in the context of his

rebellion.941 They all, furthermore, mention that he fell because God instructed the angels to

“prostrate before Adam,” so “they [all] prostrated except for Iblīs; he refused and became

haughty” (Q 2.34).942 God, therefore, ordered the devil out of the Garden of Eden, stating that

he would be in enmity with man (Q 2.36, 38),943 and declaring him “accursed” (rajīm) (Q

15.34b; 38.77b) till the day of judgment (Q 38:78).944 Since his casting out, the devil’s main

goal is to lead humans astray from the “straight path” presented to them by God (Q 7.16-17).

He is thus associated with every ungodly characteristic and desire.945

Five of the accounts relating the expulsion of Satan from paradise mention the same

exact phrase: “We [Allah] said to the angels ‘prostrate before Adam,’ so they [all] prostrated

940
The Qur’ān mentions in two passages that Satan told God, “You have created me from fire” (Q 7.12; 38.76).
The Qur’ān is more nuanced when referring to the Jinn. Sūrat al-Ḥijr states that God created the Jinn from “the
fire of the simoom” (Q 15.27), and Sūrat al-Raḥmān mentions that God created them from “a smokeless flame of
fire” (Q 55.15).
941
Satan is referred to in the Qur’ān by the Arabic title Shayṭān, deriving from the Hebrew term śāṭān (‫)שָ טָ ן‬,
meaning “adversary,” and also by the title Iblīs, which probably derived from the Greek diabolos (διάβολος), used
in Christian writings to mean “accuser.” See Andrew Rippin, “Devil,” EQ, I: 524. The qur’ānic accounts of Iblīs’
rebellion and fall are found in Q 2.34-38; 7.11-13; 15.28-34; 17.61-63; 18.50; 20.116-123, and 38.71-78. Outside
these accounts the Qur’ān uses the term Iblīs only in 26.95 and 34.20. It is interesting to note that in the accounts
of Satan’s fall, he is called Iblīs in the context of the rebellion (Q 2.34; 7.11; 15.31-32; 17.61; 18.50; 20.116; 38.74-
75), but al-Shayṭān in the context of his tempting Adam and Eve in the Garden, even in the same passages (Q 2.36;
20:120; 7:20). Rippin therefore concludes that “Iblīs gained the name al-Shayṭān after his disobedience, which is
how the Muslim tradition has frequently understood it.” See Rippin, “Devil,” 525.
942
All the accounts of Satan’s rebellion, except Q 20.116-123, relate that Satan disobeyed due to pride. Two
accounts specify that Satan did not prostrate, stating that Adam was made from mud (Q 15.33; 17.61). Two more
detailed accounts mention that the reason for his refusal was that he was superior to Adam, because he was made
from fire while Adam was from mud (Q 7.12, 38.76).
943
Cf. Q 7.13; 15.34a; 20.123; 38.77a. The Qur’ān does not present a clear chronology concerning the fall or
casting out of Satan. One set of accounts found in Sūrat al-Baqarah, Sūrat al-Aʻrāf, and Sūrat Ṭaha mentions that
Adam and Eve were in Paradise (Q 2.35; 7.19; 20.117) and were expelled from it along with Satan after he deceived
them (Q 2.35; 7.24; 20.123). Another set of accounts mentions that Satan was cast out alone after he refused to
prostrate before Adam (Q 7.11-13; 15.28-34; 17.61-63; 38.71-78). The latter accounts do not mention the word
“Paradise” (Jannah), but seem to indicate that Satan was cast out from it when God commanded him saying, “Get
out of it (minhā)” (Q 15.34; 38.77), “Descend from it (minhā)” (Q 7.13), or “Be gone” (Q 17.63).
944
The Arabic word rajīm is a passive participle that literally means “stoned.” See DQU, 352.
945
Rippin, “Devil,” 525-6.
349
except for Iblīs.’”946 This statement indicates that Satan was one of the angels, since he was

expected to prostrate before Adam at the command of God. However, the analogous account

found in Sūrat al-Kahf presents the same exact phrase with the addition, “He [Iblīs] was from

[among] the Jinn, so he strayed from the command of his Lord” (18.50). This latter verse

proposed serious challenges to the mufassirūn, who attempted to explain the simultaneous

references to Iblīs as an angel and also as a Jinn. Certain interpretations reconcile the dual

association by relating that Iblīs was from a certain tribe or group of angels called the Jinn.947

Other traditions maintain that Iblīs was an angel while explaining that he was affiliated with the

Jinn because the Arabic words that define his attributes, actions or the areas with which he was

associated stem from the same root of Jinn.948 Other interpretations vehemently oppose the

possibility that Iblīs could have been an angel.949 One tradition therefore relates that Iblīs was

one of the Jinn, and that during the battles between the angels and the Jinn he was taken captive

by the angels while young and raised by them.950 Nevertheless, all these attempts at interpreting

Q 18.50 clearly indicate that its reference to Iblīs as both angel and Jinn cannot be easily

resolved. This might suggest that the pre-Islamic conflation between both spiritual beings was

mediated to the Qur’ān.

The third association of Satan with the Jinn in the Qur’ān is evident in its use of the

words shayāṭīn (literally, “Satans”) and Jinn interchangeably. Sūrat Saba’ thus states:

946
Q 2.34; 7.11; 17.61; 18.50; 20.116.
947
Ṭabarī presents a tradition according to which Iblīs belonged to a group of angels who were called the Jinn. See
Ṭabarī, 1:536, on Q 2.34; 15:288-9, on 18.50; Muḥammad ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī, Tarīkh al-Rusul wa al-Mulūk, vol.
1 (Cairo: Dar al-Ma‘ārif bi Miṣr, 1967), 81-82.
948
One tradition explains that Iblīs was called a Jinn because he was concealed (’Ijtanna) from the sight of humans.
See Ṭabarī, 1:539, 542-3, on Q 2.34. Another tradition explains that Iblīs was associated with the Jinn because he
was one of the keepers (khāzin) of paradise (Jannah or Jinān). See Ṭabarī, 1:537, on Q 2.34; 15:289, on Q 18.50;
Ṭabarī, Tarīkh, 81-2 and 86. A third tradition mentions that Iblīs was from an area called Jannā. See Ṭabarī, 1:536,
on Q 2.34; 15:286-7, on Q 18.50; Ṭabarī, Tarīkh, vol. 1, 86. A fourth tradition mentions that Iblīs became mad or
blinded (janna) to the obedience of his Lord. See Ṭabarī, 1:538, on Q 2.34; 15:288, on Q 18.50.
949
Ṭabarī, 1:542, on Q 2.34. Ṭabarī presents two traditions which he attributes to a certain Abū Ja‘far. The first of
these gives three arguments against the possibility of Iblīs being an angel. First is that God explicitly says that Iblīs
was made from the fire of the simoom and does not say that the angels were made from this matter. Second is that
God says that Iblīs is a Jinn and that therefore he should not be associated with another category of created beings,
besides the one with which God affiliated him. The final argument is that Iblīs has posterity and offspring, while
the angels cannot beget and procreate.
950
See Ṭabarī, Tarīkh, vol. 1, 87; Ṭabarī, 1:540-41, on Q 2.34.
350
 And to Solomon [We subjected] the wind, whereof the morning stride is a month

and its evening stride is a month. And We made a font of molten brass to flow

for him, and [We subjected] from the Jinn who work between his hands by the

leave of his Lord. And whoever deviates among them from Our command, We

shall make him taste of the torment of the blazing fire (Q 34.12).

Sūrat Ṣād presents a similar statement:

Then We subjected to him [Solomon] the wind, flowing by his command gently,

wherever he intended,

and [also] the devils (shayāṭīn), every builder and diver [from among them],

and others bound in shackles (Q 38.36-38).

Both sūras refer to God making the wind subservient to Solomon. However, while Sūrat

Saba’ mentions that God also subjected the Jinn to work for Solomon, Sūrat Şād refers instead

to the subjection of the devils (shayāṭīn). Sūrat al-’Anbyā’ also presents an analogous passage

using the term shayāṭīn (Q 21.81-82). Sūrat al-Naml however states, “for Solomon were

gathered his soldiers from the Jinn and the humans” (Q 27.17). The reference to al-shayāṭīn in

Q 21.81-82 and Q 38.36-38 as serving Solomon are the only positive references to them in the

Qur’ān.951 The correspondence between these texts and Q 27.17 and Q 34.12 clearly indicates

that in this context the Qur’ān is using al-Jinn as a synonym of al-shayāṭīn, whom it defines as

the tribe or the kin (qabīl) of Satan (Q 7.27).

The correspondence between these references suggests that the Qur’ān affiliates the Jinn

with Satan in this specific context by using the terms al-Jinn and al-shayāṭīn interchangeably.

The Qur’ān however describes a group of the Jinn in a positive way. Thus, as mentioned earlier,

Sūrat al-Jinn states that a party from the Jinn listened to the Qur’ān and believed in it and did

not associate anyone with Allah (Q 72.1-2). Sūrat al-An‘ām also indicates that the shayāṭīn are

951
All other references to the shayāṭīn in the Qur’ān are negative. See Q 2.14, 102; 6.71, 112, 121; 7.27, 30; 17.27;
19.68, 83; 23.97; 26.210, 221-222; 37.64-65; 67.5.
351
only a specific group among the Jinn: “We have made for every prophet an enemy, [the] devils

[from among] humankind and Jinn, (shayāṭīni al-’insi w-al-Jinni)” (Q 6:112). We might

therefore conclude that the Qur’ān refers to two groups of Jinn – good Jinn and evil Jinn, to

whom it mainly refers as shayāṭīn. This however leads us to the next theme of the Qur’ān’s

statements concerning the Jinn’s ability to have intercourse.

The Jinn and the Ḥūr in the Qur’ān

Sūrat al-Raḥman explicitly states that the Jinn can have intercourse with the ḥūr. This

sūra is unique among the sūras of the Qur’ān in that it does not emulate the conventional

structure of a message conveyed by God through a messenger, orally addressing a community

of believers located within a specific milieu. This sūra constitutes, rather, a hymn or a paean in

praise of Allah, to whom it repeatedly refers as “the merciful one” (al-Raḥman), while

demonstrating his authority in regards to universal themes including cosmology and

eschatology.952 The sūra indicates God’s omnipotence by referring to various products of divine

creation such as the celestial beings, including the sun, the moon and the stars, and also the

heaven and the earth with its creatures and plants (Q 55.5-7, 10-12). The sūra further indicates

God’s role as a teacher (Q 55.2, 4), his sovereignty and lordship over his creation (Q 55.17, 29),

and his ownership of what is in it (Q 55.24).

The refrain of Sūrat al-Raḥman addresses both the humans and the Jinn. It repeatedly

asks both groups, after a short description of Allah’s attributes or actions, “Then, which of the

favors of your Lord (rabbikumā), do you both deny (tukadhibāni)?”953 That the address is

directed to Jinn and humans is further emphasized by the sūra’s reference to Allah’s creation

of both, humankind and Jinn (Q 55.14-15), immediately after its first use of this refrain (Q

952
Angelika Neuwirth, “Qur’ānic Literary Structure Revisited: Sūrat al-Raḥman between Mythic Account and
Decodation of Myth,” in Story-telling in the Framework on Non-fictional Arabic Literature, ed. Stefan Leder
(Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1998), 391-2.
953
Q 55.16, 18, 21, 23, 25, 28, 30, 32, 34, 36, 38, 40, 42, 45, 47, 49, 51, 53, 55, 57, 59, 61, 63, 65, 67, 69, 71, 73,
75, 77.
352
55.13). Furthermore, in the only instance where the sūra specifies its addressees, it names the

humans and the Jinn, depicting God challenging both of them to pass or penetrate beyond the

realms of the heavens and the earth (Q 55.33). Immediately after this verse, the sūra repeats the

refrain addressing both groups (Q 55.34).954 The sūra refers also to the judgement of both

humans and Jinn on a certain day (Q 55.35, 39). In contrast to the hell promised for the

unbelievers, Sūrat al-Raḥman describes the following reward for the sincere believers:

And for him who feared the status of his Lord, [are] two gardens …

with Branches …

in [both of] them [are] two springs, flowing. …

in [both of] them [are] from every fruit, two pairs. …

reclining upon the beds, whose inner lining [is] from brocade, and the reapings

of the two gardens, [are] near.

Therein [are those] lowering their glances (qāṣirātu al-ṭarfi), [whom] no human

being has deflowered (lam yaṭmithuhunna), before them [the believers], nor did

[any] Jinn [do so] …

as if they were the rubies and the corals …

Is the recompense of goodness [anything] except goodness?

and beside them both [are], two gardens …

dark green [in color] …

wherein both [are] two springs, spouting …

wherein both [are] fruits and palm trees and pomegranates.

wherein [are] good and beautiful [ones]…

ḥūr, confined (mmaqṣurātun) to the pavilions;

954
Neuwirth, op. cit., 392.
353
 [whom] no human being has deflowered (lam yaṭmithuhunna), before them [the

believers], nor did [any] Jinn [do so] …

reclining on green cushions and fair carpets.

Blessed be the name of your Lord, who possesses might and glory (Q 55.46-78).

The imagery of paradise presented here, with its trees, fruits, springs of waters, and ḥūr is

analogous to depictions found in Sūrat al-Ṣāffāt (Q 37.41-49), Sūrat Ṣād (Q 38.50-52), Sūrat

al-Dukhān (Q 44.51-55), Sūrat al-Ṭūr (Q 52.17-24), Sūrat al-Wāqi‘ah (Q 56.11-40), and Sūrat

al-Naba‘ (Q 78.31-36).

Sūrat al-Raḥman refers twice to the ḥūr. Q 55.56 alludes to the ḥūr implicitly when it

mentions that in these gardens “[are those] lowering their glances (qāṣirātu al-ṭarfi), [whom]

no human being has [ever] deflowered (lam yaṭmithuhunna), before them, nor did [any] Jinn [do

so].” Subsequently, Q 55.72 refers explicitly to the ḥūr in the exact same context, indicating

that the same creatures are signified in both references: “Wherein [are] good and beautiful

[ones] … ḥūr, restrained (maqṣurātun) in pavilions … [whom] no human being has [ever]

deflowered (lam yaṭmithuhunna), before them, nor did [any] Jinn [do so]” (Q 55.70, 72, 74).

The identity of the ḥūr received much discussion in medieval Islamic literature, as well

as in modern scholarship.955 The Qur’ān clearly presents them as one of the pleasures of

paradise that await the sincere servants of God.956 Therefore, any statement concerning these

creatures should be preceded by the assertion that the qur’ānic paradise, portrayed in numerous

passages, is meant to be an actual and substantive world.957 This means that in the mind of the

qur’ānic community, the ḥūr were real and not mythical creatures.

The ḥūr are always referred to in the Qur’ān in the plural. Besides Q 55.72, they are

mentioned explicitly as ḥūr in three additional references (Q 44.54; Q 52.20; Q 56.22), all of

955
See Arent Wensinck and Charles Pellat, “ḤŪR,” EI2, III: 581-2; Maher Jarrar, “Houris,” EQ, II: 456-8.
956
See Q 37.40-41; 38.49-50; 44.51-52; 52.17; 56.11-12; 78.31-32.
957
In his discussion of the ḥūr, Wild argues that “no amount of good or bad philology can obliterate the fact that
the imagery of qur’ānic eschatology is deeply sensual and in a way materialistic.” See Stefan Wild, “Lost in
Philology? The Virgins of Paradise and the Luxenberg Hypothesis,” in The Qur’ān in Context, 642.
354
which add to ḥūr the adjective ‘ayn, meaning “eye.” The word ḥūr is the plural of ḥawra’,

deriving from the root ḥ. w. r. (.‫ ر‬.‫ و‬.‫ )ح‬which indicates the meaning of “becoming very

white.”958 This meaning is confirmed by the use of the word in pre-Islamic literature to refer to

white-skinned women.959 A sixth-century poem by the Christian poet ‘Adī bin Zayd al-‘Ibādī

thus mentions, “They have touched your heart, these tender white maidens (ḥūr), beside the

river bank.” 960

The connection between the words ḥūr and ‘ayn is also evident in pre-Islamic poetry.

Thus, another sixth-century poem by the pagan poet ‘Abīd ibn al-Abraṣ mentions, “And

maidens like ivory statues, white of eyes (ḥūri al-‘uyūni), did we capture.”961 The word ḥawrā’

refers particularly to the large eye of the gazelle or the oryx, the whiteness of which is

accentuated due to the blackness of the iris and the pupil. This suggests that, besides being

white-skinned women, the ḥūr have also large eyes whose blackness is contrasted to the

whiteness of their eyes or to that of their skin or both.962

The whiteness of the ḥūr is further elaborated in Sūrat al-Ṣāffāt, which describes the

ḥūr as “lowering their glances with [beautiful] eyes (‘ayn) as if they were hidden (maknūn)

eggs” (Q 37.48-49). Sūrat al-Wāqi‘ah similarly states, “ḥūr [with beautiful] eyes (‘ayn), the

likeness of hidden (maknūn) pearls” (Q 56.22-23). The likening of the ḥūr to eggs and pearls

indicates again the notion of whiteness. The description of these objects as hidden or preserved

seems to indicate the virginity of the ḥūr, which remains intact insofar as the ḥūr are reserved

for the believers (Q 55.56, 74). Their depiction as “lowering their glances (qāṣirātu al-ṭarfi)”

seems however to indicate their modesty.963

958
Lisān, vol. 3, 385-6.
959
FV, 117-9.
960
The Arabic text reads, “ ِ‫طاط‬ َ ‫ب المِ ْل‬ ٌ ‫” َه َّي َج الدَّا َء في فُؤادكَ ُح‬. See ‘Adī bin Zayd al-‘Ibādī, Dīwān ‘Adī bin
ِ ‫ور نا ِعماتٌ ِبجا ِن‬
Zayd al-‘Ibādī (Baghdad, Sharikat Dār al-Jumhūrīyah lil-Nashr wal-Ṭibāʻah, 1965), 138. The translation is taken
from FV, 118.
961
The Arabic text reads, “‫ُون قَ ِد ا ْست َ َب ْينَا‬
ِ ‫ور العُي‬ِ ‫”و َأوان ٍِس مِ ث ِل الدٌّ َمى ُح‬.
َ See ‘Abīd ibn al-Abraṣ, Dīwān ‘Abīd ibn al-Abraṣ
(Beirut: Dār al-Kitāb al-‘Arabī, 1994), 120. The translation is taken from FV, 118.
962
See Wensinck and Pellat, “ḤŪR,” EI2, III: 581.
963
Q 37.48; 38.52; 55.56.
355
 The ḥūr are evidently promised as a sensual reward for the believers. Thus, beside the

references to their whiteness and their eyes, which perhaps indicate their exceptional beauty,

they are also described as voluptuous or full-breasted (kawā‘ib).964 The male believers are

promised to be wedded to ḥūr,965 who are “purified spouses” (azwājun mutahharatun)966 of their

age (’atrāb).967 Furthermore, the twice recurring statement: “no human being has [ever]

deflowered them (yaṭmithuhunna) [the ḥūr] … nor did [any] Jinn” (Q 55.56, 74) leads to the

conclusion that the ḥūr are virgins and that not only humans, but also the Jinn, can have

intercourse with them.968

The Qur’ān, as has been demonstrate thus far, clearly draws upon pre-Islamic Arabian

beliefs concerning the Jinn. It does present a certain conflation between the Jinn and the angels

and speaks of good Jinn. Nevertheless, the Qur’ān refers mainly to evil Jinn whom it affiliates

with Satan. Moreover, though the Qur’ān excludes certain pre-Islamic Arabian beliefs

concerning the Jinn, it retains others, such as their ability to have intercourse even with the ḥūr,

who seem to be human females. This theme leads us however to the Qur’ān’s interaction with

the Watchers tradition which speaks of intercourse between fallen angels and human females.

The Watchers Tradition in Late Antique Literature and the Qur’ān

The Qur’ān does not refer to the possibility of intercourse between angels and humans.

Nevertheless, as demonstrated earlier, it does present a certain conflation between angels and

Jinn and, as will be illustrated below, it betrays a clear acquaintance with the Watchers tradition

964
See Q 78.33. Sūrat al-Naba’ does not mention the word ḥūr in its description of paradise (Q 78.31-36). It does
however mention rewards such as “gardens” and “grapevines,” which are found in the depictions of paradise in
other qur’ānic passages that mention the ḥūr. Q 78.33 seems therefore to indicate the ḥūr by the word kawā‘ib,
whom it describes as being of “equal age (’atrāb) [to the believers],” just as Q 38.52 mentions that qāṣirātu al-
ṭarfi are of “equal age [to the believers].”
965
Q 44.54; 52.20
966
Q 2.25; 3.15l 4:57. The phrase “purified spouses” seems to connote the ḥūr’s physical purity and moral
character. See Wensinck and Pellat, “ḤŪR,” 581.
967
Q 38.52; 78.33.
968
The Arabic word tamth (‫ث‬ْ ‫ط ْم‬
َ ) indicates the menses that is discharged with menstruation, and the verb ṭamatha
َ ) can mean “touching,” “having sexual intercourse with,” and “having sexual intercourse that results in
( َ‫ط َمث‬
bleeding.” See Lisān, vol. 8, 198; Asās, vol. 1, 612.
356
to which the notion of intercourse between angels and women is central. The Qur’ān’s

acquaintance with this tradition could offer further insights into the sexual tone engrained into

Mary’s encounter with the angel in Sūrat Maryam.

The book of the Watchers provides the earliest extant evidence for an elaboration upon

the concise and peculiar account of Genesis 6, which relates that the “the sons of God went in

to the daughters of humans, who bore children to them” (Gen 6.4). This work is the first of the

five separate writings that constitute the book of 1 Enoch (1 En. 1-36), which dates back to the

third century BCE and is one of the oldest extra-biblical and apocalyptic Jewish writings.969 The

book of the Watchers, along with all the other components of 1 Enoch, was originally compose

in Aramaic. The Aramaic text was then translated into Greek, and subsequently from Greek

into ancient Ethiopic (Ge‘ez), surviving in its entirety only in the manuscripts of the Ethiopic

Bible, constituting one of its books.970

The book of the Watchers describes the rebellion of two hundred angels – referred to as

“Watchers” (Aram. ‫עִ ִירין‬, Gk. ἐγρήγοροι), and “the sons of heaven” – and their descent to earth

after they desired the “daughters” of “the sons of men” (1 En. 6.1-7). The book relates that the

Watchers “took for themselves wives from among them such as they chose. And they began to

go in to them, and to defile themselves through them” (1 En. 7.1). Consequently, these women

conceived and begat giants, who in turn begat Nephilim (1 En. 7.2). Eventually, the giants began

to kill and devour the “sons of men” and brought destruction against all living creatures (1 En.

7.3-5). The Watchers taught humans to use metals from the earth and make instruments of war

(1 En. 8.1); they also taught them spells, sorcery, and magic, among other things (1 En. 7.1,

8.3, 9.8). Consequently, God sent his angels to execute judgment, ordering them to bind the

Watchers and destroy their progeny, which came about through their intercourse with women

969
Annette Reed, Fallen Angels and the History of Judaism and Christianity: The Reception of Enochic Literature
(New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 2-4.
970
George Nickelsburg and James VanderKam, 1 Enoch: The Hermeneia Translation (Minneapolis: Fortress
Press, 2012), 13.
357
(1 En. 10.4-16). The rest of the book of the Watchers describes Enoch’s missions to the

Watchers, his intercession on their behalf, his apocalyptic visions, his ascent to heaven, and his

journey to the different parts of the earth (1 En. 12.3-36.4).

The Watchers tradition was widely received in Second Temple Judaism and proto-

orthodox Christianity. Thus, the Dead Sea Scrolls include fragments from 1 Enoch and also

from the book of the Giants based on it, and they also contain Hebrew and Aramaic

compositions that demonstrate familiarity with these works.971 The book of Jubilees, originally

written in Hebrew and then translated to Syriac, Ge‘ez, Greek, and Latin, makes extensive use

of the Watchers tradition.972 The tradition is also referred to in the New Testament epistles of

Jude, 1 Peter, and 2 Peter;973 and it enjoyed great prominence in numerous proto-orthodox

Christian works, including those of Ante-Nicene Fathers such as Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and

Tertullian, who make extensive use of 1 Enoch in their writings.974 The popularity of the

971
See Samuel Thomas, “Watchers Traditions in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Watchers in Jewish and Christian
Traditions, ed. Angela Harkins et al. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014), 137-150.
972
James VanderKam, “The Angel Story in the Book of Jubilees,” in Pseudepigraphic Perspectives: The
Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Esther Chazon and Michael Stone (Boston:
Brill, 1999), 151-70; John Endres, “The Watchers Traditions in the Book of Jubilees,” in The Watchers in Jewish
and Christian Traditions, 121-35.
973
See Eric Mason, “Watchers Traditions in the Catholic Epistles,” in The Watchers in Jewish and Christian
Traditions, 69-79. For the Epistle of Jude’s use of 1 Enoch and its status in the Church throughout late antiquity
see Jeremy Hultin, “Jude’s Citation of 1 Enoch: From Tertullian to Jacob of Edessa,” in Jewish and Christian
Scriptures: The Function of “Canonical” and “Non-Canonical” Religious Texts, ed. James Charlesworth and Lee
McDonald (New York: T & T Clark, 2010), 113–28; James VanderKam, “1 Enoch, Enochic Motifs, and Enoch in
Early Christian Literature,” in The Jewish Apocalyptic Heritage in Early Christianity, ed. James VanderKam and
Wiliam Adler (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1996), 35-6.
974
For a general discussion of the use of Enochic motifs in early Christian writings, see ibid., 33-101. Justin Martyr
makes use of the Watchers tradition in his first apology to argue that the Greek gods were demons that made
apparitions of themselves, had sexual intercourse with women, and begat children. Justin explains that these fallen
angels gave fearful visions to humans, leading them to their worship, while subduing humanity by magical
writings, penalties, and the teaching of sacrificial offerings. They instigated all kinds of crimes such as murders,
wars, and adulteries. See Justin, 1 Apol. 5. [pp. 90-91]. Irenaeus reflects familiarity with the book in different parts
of Adversus Haereses, and he particularly reads Genesis 5:21-24 and 6:l-4 in light of the Watchers tradition. See
Irenaeus, Against Heresies in ANF, vol. 1, XVI.2 [p. 803]; XXXVI.4 [p. 866]. Tertullian refers implicitly to 1
Enoch as a sacred writing when he states that “the story how certain angels corrupted themselves and how from
them was produced a brood of demons yet more corrupt … is duly made known in the sacred books (litteras
sanctas).” See Tertullian, Apology in Tertullian and Minucius Felix, Apology and De Spectaculis; Octavius, Trans.
Terrot Glover and Gerald Rendall (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1977), XXII.3 [pp. 117-9]. Another
clear piece of evidence that Tertullian uses 1 Enoch in this context is his remark that these angels “teach remedies
new or contradictory to the point of miracle.” Ibid., XXII.11 [p. 121]. Cf. 1 En. 7.1, 8.3, 9.8.
358
Watchers tradition in pre-rabbinic Jewish and proto-Orthodox Christian circles validated their

reading of the term “sons of God” in Gen 6.1-4 as “fallen angels.”975

The reception of the Watchers tradition into Patristic literature in the second and early

third centuries coincides with the rejection of 1 Enoch in rabbinic circles. Thus, the notion of

fallen angels is not to be found in any of the rabbinic sources of the Talmudic period, stretching

from the second to the sixth centuries.976 This exclusion of the Watchers tradition from the

exegesis of Genesis 6.1-4 is very odd, considering the prominence of this interpretation in pre-

rabbinic literature and the fact that rabbinic exposition celebrates the multiplicity of

interpretations as one of its intrinsic cornerstones, even when they contradict each other.977

Furthermore, though the rabbis harshly condemn the use of the apocryphal and pseudepigraphal

books of the Hebrew Bible, rabbinic literature contains numerous verses from some of these

works, introduced as sayings of the rabbis or as popular proverbs.978 The absolute absence of

reference, whether negative or positive, to the book of the Watchers in rabbinic literature

indicates that the rabbis were practicing their most preferred polemical method against this

work: “to kill their enemies by silence.”979

All this evidence indicates that the rabbinic rejection of the earlier application of the

Watchers tradition to Genesis 6.1-4 was not simply the result of a new interpretive approach to

975
Reed, Fallen Angels, 84-155.
976
Ibid., 206-7. The rabbinic tradition emphasizes that all these interpretations are part of the same revelation, the
Torah. See Daniel Boyarin, Border Lines: The Partition of Judaeo-Christianity (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2004), 182-92; David Stern, Midrash and Theory: Ancient Jewish Exegesis and Contemporary
Literary Studies (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1996), 18-22.
977
For the rabbinic principle of the multiplicity of possible interpretations of the Torah see Boyarin, op. cit., 157-
65, 182-92; Stern, op. cit., 15-38.
978
Rabbinic literature refers to the apocryphal and pseudepigraphal writings of the Hebrew Bible as “external
books (Sefarim Ḥiẓonim),” due to their extra-canonical status. See Lee McDonald, “Canon,” in The Oxford
Handbook of Biblical Studies, ed. John Rogerson and Judith Lieu (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 793.
The Mishnah clearly states that those who read the external books shall “have no share in the world to come”
(j.Sanh. 10.1). See also Joseph Dan, “Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha,” EJ, 2:258-61. For the use of apocryphal
and pseudepigraphal works in rabbinic literature see for example Leiman’s examination of the use of the book of
Ben Sira in the Talmud and Midrash in Sid Leiman, The Canonization of Hebrew Scripture: The Talmudic and
Midrashic Evidence (Hamden, CT: Archon Books, 1976), 92-102.
979
Reed, op. cit., 208. For the rabbis’ method of “killing their enemies by silence,” see Guy Stroumsa, “Gnosis,”
in 20th Century Jewish Religious Thought: Original Essays on Critical Concepts, Movements and Beliefs, ed.
Arthur Cohen and Paul Mendes-Flohr (Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 2009), 288.
359
the text. The exclusion of this tradition seems rather to originate from, and reflect, the larger

rabbinic discourse that aimed at establishing its “orthodoxy” against other Jewish or Christian

groups, whom the rabbis sought to define as “heretics” (minim).980 The rabbis established

orthodoxy partly by rejecting other interpretations of biblical texts, along with the “external”

books that aided these interpretations.981

The popularity of the Watchers tradition came to an end in ecclesiastical circles with

the ecclesiarchs’ attempts at establishing clear boundaries of “orthodoxy” as well. The debates

concerning the biblical canon resulted eventually in a vehement dismissal of 1 Enoch, among

other works, as non-canonical by Nicene Fathers such as Athanasius.982 Subsequently, Jerome

and also Augustine dismissed the canonicity of 1 Enoch.983 One of the main reasons for this

exclusion of the Enochic literature was its use by religious movements such as the Manichaeans,

which were labeled as heretical by the “orthodox” stream.984 The Watchers tradition was

however widely received beyond Manichaean circles in late antiquity, influencing and even

used in various Gnostic and pagan works.985

980
Daniel Sperber, “Minim,” EJ, 14:263-4.
981
Reed, op. cit., 206-7.
982
Athanasius was one of the most prominent players in this process. In his famed thirty-ninth Festal Letter, he
attacks the various books that “belong to Enoch” as a part of his polemics against the Melitians, who used these
works alongside the pseudepigraphic works of The Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah, and The Testament of
Moses. Arguing that “no Scripture existed before Moses,” Athanasius asserts that the Melitians composed these
works, becoming the first Christian author to label the Enochic pseudepigrapha as “apocrypha” while associating
it with heretics. See David Brakke, “Canon Formation and Social Conflict in Fourth-Century Egypt: Athanasius
of Alexandria’s Thirty-Ninth Festal Letter,” HTR 87, no. 4 (1994): 412–3. For the primary source see Athanasius,
Lettres festales [Coptic], in ed. Lefort, S. Athanase (CSCO vol. 150), 58-9, lines 3-21.
983
See Jerome, Tractatus de Psalmo, 132 [p. 250.7-251.20]. Jerome does not mention 1 Enoch by name, but he
refers to “isto libro apocrypho,” which the editor identifies as the book of Enoch. See p. 250 and n. 1. Jerome
indeed seems to be referring to 1 Enoch since he is discussing the account of the fallen angels descending to mount
Hermon. Jerome further indicates that he is reluctant to accept the Epistle of Jude into the canon due to its use of
1 Enoch. See Jerome, De viris illustribus, ed. and trans. Claudia Barthold (Mülheim: Carthusianus, 2010), IV.I [p.
164]. Jerome’s underlying criteria for accepting a book into the Christian scriptures – namely that “pre-Christian”
writings that are not contained in the Jewish canon should also not be accepted to the Christian scriptures – is
articulated by Augustine. See Augustine, De civitate Dei, eds. Bernardus Dombart and Alfonsus Kalb (Stuttgart:
Teubner, 1993), vol. II, 15.23 [p. 111], 18.38 [p. 313].
984
See Reed, op. cit., 201.
985
For the reception of the Watchers tradition, or elements from it, in Gnostic circles see Guy Stroumsa, Another
Seed: Studies in Gnostic Mythology (Leiden: Brill, 1984), esp. Chs. 2 and 8; John Reeves, Heralds of that Good
Realm: Syro-Mesopotamian Gnosis and Jewish Traditions (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 183-206. For Zosimus of
Panopolis’s use of the Watchers tradition see Matteo Martelli, “The Alchemical Art of Dyeing: The Fourfold
Division of Alchemy and the Enochian Tradition,” in Laboratories of Art: Alchemy and Art Technology from
Antiquity to the 18th Century, ed. Sven Dupré (Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2014), 10-22. For the use
360
 The alienation of the Enochic literature as apocryphal in rabbinic and Christian circles

made the Watchers tradition irrelevant to the exegesis of Genesis 6.1-4. Consequently the “sons

of God” mentioned in this text were no longer understood as angels but rather as humans. They

may have enjoyed superior might, a more sanctified life, or an exceptional longevity, but they

were nevertheless merely human.986 Notwithstanding, the Watchers tradition survived in

alternative Jewish, Christian, and other religious circles, from which it found its way into the

qur’ānic community and the Qur’ān as will be demonstrated here.

Enoch as Idrīs in the Qur’ān

The Qur’ān does not contain a complete narrative that is analogous to the basic storyline

of 1 Enoch, but it does contain various phrases and short accounts that draw upon the Enochic

traditions. The Qur’ān refers to Enoch as Idrīs only twice, both very briefly. 987 One of these

instances is found in Sūrat al-’Anbyā’ where, in the context of a reference to various prophets,

the sūra mentions Job’s supplication and God’s response to him (Q 21.84-85) and then adds:

“And [mention] Ishmael, and Idrīs, and Dhū’l-Kifl, all [of whom are] from [among] the

steadfast (Q 21.85).”

The second qur’ānic reference to Enoch is found in Sūrat Maryam where, alluding to

Enoch’s ascension to heaven, the sūra states: “And mention in the Scripture, Idrīs. Indeed, he

was a man of truth and a prophet. And We [Allah] raised him to a lofty place” (Q 19.56-57).

This phrase corresponds to a specific account in 1 Enoch known as the Animal Apocalypse.

There, while describing a vision in which heavenly beings appear to him in the image of white

men, Enoch mentions, “And those three who came after took hold of me by my hand and raised

of the Watchers tradition by pagan authors, see for example the citation of Celsus in C. Cel. V:52. The Emperor
Julian, known as “the Apostate,” makes use of the Watchers tradition as well. See Flavius Claudius Iulianus
Augustus, Against the Galileans, in The Works of the Emperor Julian, vol. 3, trans. Wilmer Wright (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1953), 401-3.
986
Reed, op. cit., 206, 218-20.
987
For a discussion of the qur’ānic Idrīs as Enoch see John Reeves, “Some Explorations of the Intertwining of
Bible and Qur’ān,” 43-52.
361
me from the generations of the earth, and lifted me onto a high place” (1 En. 87.3).988 It is

difficult to establish influence on the mere basis of a correspondence between these phrases.

Nevertheless, the familiarity of the early Muslim community with the Enochic literature

suggests that Q 19.56-57 is also drawing upon an Enochic tradition.989

The Watchers Traditions in Sūrat al-Baqarah

Sūrat al-Baqarah contains the following text, which clearly draws upon the Watchers

tradition:

And when to them came a messenger from Allah, confirming of that which is

with them, a party of those who were given the Scripture threw the Scripture of

Allah behind their backs as if they did not know [what it contains],

And they followed [instead] what the devils (shayāṭīn) had recited concerning

the reign of Solomon. And Solomon did not disbelieve (mā kafara); but the

devils disbelieved (kafarū), teaching humans (al-nās) magic (al-siḥr) and that

which was sent down upon the angels in Babylon, Hārūt and Mārūt. And they

[the angels] did not teach anyone unless they had said: “We are a trial (fitnah),

therefore do not disbelieve.” So, they [used to] learn from both of them [the

angels] that through which they separate between the man and his wife, and they

988
Ibid., 37.
989
The most evident use of the Enochic traditions in early Islamic literature is attested in passages depicting
Muḥammad’s night journey (’isrā’) and his ascension to heaven (mi‘rāj). Various versions of these traditions are
present in numerous Sīra, Ḥadīth and Tafsīr literature and histories. For a list of these works, see Heribert Busse,
“Jerusalem in the Story of Muḥammad’s Night Journey and Ascension,” JSAI 14 (1991): 4-5. For a summary of
the main events of the ’isrā’ and mi‘rāj and the stations that Muḥammad goes through in these journeys see ibid.,
7-21 and 37-40; and for their correspondence with the Enochic traditions see ibid, 21-5. For further examination
of this theme see Philip Alexander, “Jewish Tradition in Early Islam: The Case of Enoch/Idrīs,” in Studies in
Islamic and Middle Eastern Texts and Traditions in Memory of Norman Calder, ed. Gerald Hawting et al. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2000), 17-29. For an earlier discussion of the dependence of the Islamic mi‘rāj traditions
on various apocalyptic works, including 1 Enoch, see Josef Horovitz, “Muhammeds Himmelfahrt,” DI 9 (1919):
159-83. These traditions were not necessarily mediated to Muslim authors directly through the work of 1 Enoch,
but could have also been transmitted through other works dependent upon 1 Enoch, such as the book of Jubilees.
The book of Jubilees portrays Enoch as a scribe in an account that is congruent with the writings of Muslim
scholars (Jub. 4.17-19).
362
 do not harm thereby anyone save by Allah’s leave. And they [used to] learn that

which harms them and does not benefit them. And they knew that he who bought

it [the magic] will not have in the Hereafter any share, and wretched is that [the

price] for which they sold themselves, if they had [only] known (Q 2.101-102).

This obscure passage contains one clear variance with the Watchers tradition. The

shayāṭīn mentioned here, surprisingly, do not simply deceive people but rather warn them

before they teach anything, explaining that they are a trial or a temptation (fitnah) and asking

the people not to disbelieve in God. However, in congruence with the book of the Watchers (1

En. 8.3) this text relates that these shayāṭīn teach people magic (siḥr) (Q 2.102). Furthermore,

the claim that the shayāṭīn taught humans “that through which they separate between the man

and his wife” is clearly congruent with the book of the Watchers. The latter work describes a

complaint brought before God by four angels – Michael, Sariel, Raphael, and Gabriel –

concerning the Watchers:

You see what Asael has done, who has taught all iniquity on the earth, and has

revealed the eternal mysteries that are in heaven, which the sons of men were

striving to learn. And (what) Shemihazah (has done), to whom you gave

authority to rule over them who are with him. They have gone in to the daughters

of the men of earth, and they have lain with them, and have defiled themselves

with the women. And they have revealed to them all sins, and have taught them

to make hate-inducing charms (1 En. 9.6-8).

This paragraph indicates that the knowledge that the shayātīn mediated to humans (“through

which they separate between the man and his wife”) refers to the “hate-inducing charms” that

the Watchers taught women to make (1 En. 9.8).

The correspondence between Q 2.102 and 1 En. 9.8 reveals two additional central

points. It firstly reveals that the term shayāṭīn, besides its use in the Qur’ān for the Jinn, also

refers to fallen angels such as the Watchers. This further confirms the Qur’ān’s lack of
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distinction between both beings. Secondly, Q 2.102 does not refer to sexual interaction between

shayātīn, or angels, and women. Nevertheless, it corresponds with the specific Watchers

tradition which relates that the Watchers taught women how to make hate-inducing charms after

they had intercourse with them (1 En. 9.8). This suggests that the qur’ānic community

encountered the specific element of fallen angels having intercourse with women through the

Watchers tradition.990

The reference to the People of the Scripture, King Solomon, magic or mysterious

charms, and Babylon in the same context indicates that the Watchers tradition was mediated to

Q 2.101-102 through traditions involving Jewish magic.991 Due to the widespread popularity of

magical rituals and practices in the Graeco-Roman world, various magical traditions were also

ascribed to King Solomon in late antiquity, which entailed his characterization as a magician.

These depictions of Solomon became very popular, not only in pagan but also in Jewish and

Christian circles.992 This is clearly revealed in a corpus of texts written on Jewish amulets and

magical bowls that refer to Solomon’s authority in the spiritual realm. In the Babylonian bowls,

Solomon’s name and his titles – “King” and “son of David” – and his sealing or his signet-ring

play a role in spells that have specific objectives such as binding demons.993

Jewish magic was widespread in Mesopotamia and Iran. And though Jews were a

minority in these regions, they produced the majority of the incantational and magical bowls.

The fact that these bowls were made for patrons with Iranian names further suggests that the

990
The two notions of angels sleeping with women and teaching them mysterious charms are also found in other
traditions dependent on the Watchers tradition. The Hermitic work known as Isis the Prophetess to Her Son Horus
relates the account of two angels who try to convince a woman to sleep with them. She refuses, asking that they
reveal to her the secret of preparing gold and silver, which one of them eventually reveals. The work does not
mention whether the woman did sleep with the angels, but it indicates the possibility of such intercourse. For a
translation of the text see Daniel Merkur, Gnosis: An Esoteric Tradition of Mystical Visions and Unions (Albany,
NY: State University of New York Press, 1993), 94-5.
991
For a discussion of this theme see Patricia Crone, “The Book of Watchers in the Qur’ān,” in Exchange and
Transmission across Cultural Boundaries: Philosophy, Mysticism and Science in the Mediterranean, ed. Haggai
Ben-Shammai et al. (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 2013), 16-51.
992
Pablo Torijano, Solomon the Esoteric King: From King to Magus, Development of a Tradition (Leiden: Brill,
2002), 192.
993
Ibid., 119-120.
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Jews were perceived as experts in this area.994 This historical data indicates that Q 2.101 is

referring to the Jews when it mentions that “a party of those who were given the Scripture threw

the Scripture of Allah behind their backs.” The names Hārūt and Mārūt, mentioned in Q 2.102

as names of angels who received a revelation in Babylon, are taken from the names Haurvatāt

and Ameretāt, two of the divine beings of the Zoroastrian tradition known as Amesha Spenta.995

This suggests that this tradition passed to the qur’ānic community from Persia or from a region

that was under the influence of Persian culture.

The Prot. Jas. and the Watchers Tradition

The Prot. Jas., as will be demonstrated here, also reveals the influence of the Watchers

tradition and conveys a sexual tone in the annunciation. The Prot. Jas., as explained earlier,

relates that when Joseph returned to his home after being away for six months, he discovered

that Mary was pregnant and, “striking his face he cast himself to the ground on sackcloth,

weeping bitterly …” (PJ 13.1). Joseph then rebukes Mary, who defends herself saying, “I am

pure and have not had sex with any man” (PJ 13.2-3). However, while thinking about how to

deal with Mary’s condition, Joseph says to himself, “If I reveal her condition to the sons of

Israel, I am afraid that the child in her is angelic (φοβοũμαι μήπως ἀγγελικόν εστιν το ἐν ἑαυτῇ),

and I may be handing innocent blood over to a death sentence” (PJ 14.1).996

The possibility that Mary’s fetus is “angelic” or caused by an angel is definitely not

found in mainstream Christian traditions, which instead highlight the miraculous conception of

Jesus. This unconventional motif corresponds with the following account in the Epistle of

994
Joseph Naveh and Shaul Shaked, Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity
(Jerusalem: The Hebrew University Magnes Press, 1985), 18.
995
Jean de Menasce, “Une légende indoiranienne dans l’angélologie judéo-musulmane, a propos de Hârüt et
Mārūt,” AS/EA, 1 (1947): 10. Magical texts from Iraq contain the corresponding names of Artat and Amurtat.
These however are clearly foreign names that mimic the Zoroastrian names of Haurvatāt and Ameretāt. See Shaul
Shaked, “Popular Religion in Sasanian Babylonia,” JSAI 21 (1997): 113.
996
Cullmann translates the phrase the following way: “If I expose her to the children of Israel, I fear lest that which
is in her may have sprung from the angels.” See Cullmann, “Infancy Gospels,” 431.
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Enoch – the last of the five books that constitute 1 Enoch – which also draws upon the Watchers

tradition:

And when (Lamech) had come of age, he took for himself a wife, and she

conceived from him and bore a child. And when the child was born, his body

was whiter than snow and redder than a rose, his hair was all white and like

white wool and curly. Glorious was his face. When he opened his eyes, the house

shone like the sun. And he stood up from the hands of the midwife, and he

opened his mouth and praised the Lord of eternity. And Lamech was afraid of

him, and he fled and came to Methuselah his father. And he said to him, “A

strange child has been born to me. He is not like human beings, but (like) the

sons of the angels of heaven. His form is strange, not like us. His eyes are like

the rays of the sun, and glorious is his face. I think that he is not from me, but

from the angels. And I fear him, lest something happen in his days on the earth

(1 En. 106:1-6).997

In addition to mentioning that the child was like “the sons of the angels of heaven” and

that Lamech was afraid that he was “from the angels,” the account provides further evidence of

its dependence upon the Watchers tradition. The Epistle of Enoch narrates that when Lamech

expressed his fears concerning his son’s identity to his father, Methuselah, the latter went and

asked his father, Enoch, concerning this matter (1 En. 106.12). Enoch answered his son by

explicating the relationship between the birth of Lamech’s son and the judgment that God will

bring on the earth because of the sins of the Watchers and the humans, saying:

The Lord will renew his commandment upon the earth, just as, child, I have seen

and told you. That in the generation of Jared, my father, they [the Watchers]

transgressed the word of the Lord / the covenant of heaven, and look, they went

997
Italics mine.
366
 on sinning and transgressing the custom. With women they were mingling, and

with them they were sinning. They married some of them, and they went on

begetting (children), not like spirits, but of flesh. And there will be great wrath

upon the earth and a flood, and there will be great destruction for a year. And

this child that was born to you will be left on the earth, and his three children

will be saved with him, when all people on the earth die. And he will cleanse the

earth from the corruption that is on it (1 En. 106.13-17).

The Prot. Jas. thus clearly draws upon the Epistle of Enoch, which is dependent upon the

Watchers tradition. The main contrast between 1 En. 106.1-6 and PJ 14.1 lies in the fact that in

1 Enoch Lamech becomes suspicious concerning the identity of his son after the child is born,

while in the Prot. Jas. Joseph becomes suspicious before Mary’s child is born. However, in

both accounts the men suspect that the child is “from the angels” (1 En. 106.6).

The association of the birth of Lamech’s son with the appearance of light in 1 Enoch

also corresponds with the portrayal of Jesus’ birth in the Prot. Jas. 1 Enoch relates that, “When

the child [Lamech’s son] was born … glorious was his face. When he opened his eyes, the

house shone like the sun. … His eyes are like the rays of the sun, and glorious is his face” (1

En. 106.2, 5). The Prot. Jas. similarly mentions the appearance of supernatural light at the birth

of Jesus:

They [Joseph and the midwife] stood at the entrance of the cave, and a bright

cloud overshadowed it. … Right away the cloud began to depart from the cave,

and a great light appeared within, so that their eyes could not bear it. Soon that

light began to depart, until an infant could be seen (PJ 19.2).

Another correspondence might be indicated between the response that Methuselah and Joseph

receive, after being perplexed, concerning the children’s role in salvation history. Thus, Enoch

tells Methuselah: “This child that was born to you will be left on the earth … And he will

cleanse the earth from the corruption that is on it” (1 En. 106.16-17). The account subsequently
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adds that, “When Methuselah heard the words of Enoch his father … [he] returned and revealed

everything to (Lamech). And his name [the child] was called Noah – he who gladdens the earth

from destruction” (1 En. 107.3). Similarly, the Prot. Jas. relates that the angel of the Lord

appeared to Joseph in a dream, informing him that “she [Mary] will give birth to a son, and you

will name him Jesus. For he will save his people from their sins” (PJ 14.2).

In light of the Watchers tradition, Joseph’s worry that Mary’s child might be “angelic”

indicates the possibility that the child was the result of intercourse with an angelic being. The

Prot. Jas. clearly does not approve of this notion since it highlights Mary’s chastity repeatedly,

and in a manner similar to Matthew’s Gospel (Matt 1.18) also emphasizes that Mary became

pregnant through the Holy Spirit (PJ 14.2). The Prot. Jas., notwithstanding, in a manner similar

to Sūrat Maryam, reveals a clear awareness of this theme insofar as it must address it in order

to dismiss it.

Considering the level to which the qur’ānic nativity accounts draw upon the Prot. Jas.

tradition, it is possible that this Enochic element is reflected in the sexual tension expressed

between Mary and the angel in Sūrat Maryam. The issue of Mary’s angelic child is indicated

in two qur’ānic references to Mary’s impregnation outside Sūrat Maryam. Thus, Sūrat al-

Taḥrīm mentions, “And Mary, the daughter of ‘Imrān, who safeguarded her private parts

(farjahā), so We breathed therein from Our Spirit (min rūḥinā)” (Q 66.12a). Sūrat al-Anbiyā’

presents the analogous verse, “And [mention] the one who safeguarded her private parts

(farjahā) so We breathed inside her from Our Spirit (min rūḥinā) and made her and her son a

sign for the worlds” (Q 21.91). The preceding chapter has demonstrated that “Our Spirit”

(rūḥanā) in Q 19.17 is meant to be the angel Gabriel. Therefore, if “Our Spirit (min rūḥinā)” in

Q 21.91 and Q 66.12 also refers to the angel Gabriel, then both phrases should be understood

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to mean that God breathed inside Mary through the angel Gabriel.998

The Prot. Jas. presents another correspondence with Sūrat Maryam in this regard. As

explained earlier, Sūrat Maryam draws a connection between Mary’s encounter with the angel

and the accusations of the Jews against her. Similarly, the Prot. Jas. presents both points in the

same context. It depicts Joseph’s doubt as to whether Mary’s child was engendered by an angel,

while also relating his fear about revealing her condition to the Jewish people, in which case he

would be handing innocent blood over to a death sentence (PJ 14.1). The Prot. Jas. furthermore

connects this reference to the Jewish slander against Mary. Thus, after mentioning that the angel

appeared to Joseph, allaying his fears, it immediately goes on to describe how Mary’s

pregnancy was discovered. It depicts how Mary and Joseph were summoned and questioned by

the priestly authorities, who initially accused both of committing adultery, until their innocence

was revealed (PJ 15-16).

The Prot. Jas. does not present any sexual tension in the annunciation as Sūrat Maryam

does. Nevertheless, these parallels suggest that the sexual tone of this sūra could be influenced

by the Prot. Jas. tradition. Ephrem the Syrian’s second Hymn on the Nativity also reveals

certain parallels with Sūrat Maryam in this regard and could shed further light on this theme.

Ephrem the Syrian and the Watchers Tradition

Ephrem the Syrian’s second Hymn on the Nativity is also in clear conversation with the

Watchers tradition. The biblical figure of Enoch holds a significant place in Ephrem’s writings

and theology as the counterpart of the fallen Adam in the antediluvian generation, who conquers

death and regains paradise through his righteousness.999 However, Ephrem’s writings express

998
In this case the proposition min (‫ )مِ ْن‬could be translated as “from” or “through.” For the various meaning of ‫مِ ْن‬
in the Qur’ān see DQU, 896-8. The interpretation of ‫ مِ ْن‬as “through” in this context is prominent in the tafsīr
tradition. See Rāzī 22:218, on Q 21.91; Ṭabarī, 23:116; Rāzī 30:50, both on Q 66.12.
999
For a discussion of the figure of Enoch as a counterpart to Adam in Ephrem’s writings and theology see Tryggve
Kronholm, Motifs from Genesis 1-11 in the Genuine Hymns of Ephrem the Syrian: With Particular Reference to
the Influence of Jewish Exegetical Tradition (Lund: CWK Gleerup, 1978), 154-63.
369
a clear awareness of and a fierce opposition to the Watchers tradition as held by heretics and

particularly by Mani.1000 Ephrem rejects the interpretation of the title “sons of God” in Genesis

6.2, 4 as a reference to the angels, emphasizing that it denotes humans alone. In Ephrem’s mind

such interaction would not have been possible for two main reasons.1001 Firstly, Ephrem

believes the angels to be made of fire and spirit, while humans are made of dust.1002 Secondly,

Ephrem believes that the nature of angels is good and their will is holy.1003 Ephrem further

argues in this regard that if such intercourse between humans and non-human spirits was

possible, then various kinds of demons would be continuously trying to seduce women and

have intercourse with them.1004 Ephrem therefore reinterprets Genesis 6.1-4 as referring to the

union between men from the righteous line of Sheth and Enosh, the “sons of God,” and women

from the ungodly line of Cain.1005

This theme is of fundamental importance to Ephrem because it relates to the virginal

conception of Jesus. Ephrem is eager to emphasize that Mary’s pregnancy through the work of

the Holy Spirit is a unique event in human history, and therefore he is on guard against the

possibility of spiritual beings having intercourse with human females.1006 This is clearly

expressed in Ephrem’s depiction of the encounter between Mary and Gabriel in the second

hymn of the Hymns on the Nativity. Before presenting this encounter, Ephrem rehearses the

slander against Mary and in response highlights her virginity and Jesus’ virginal conception

and birth:

So that you might increase his reward, he [Joseph] rescued You in his arms.

For who could convince a just man

1000
Ibid., 166-7. See HCH, XIX, 1.1; VII, 3.5.
1001
Kronholm, op. cit., 167-8.
1002
For the angels being made from “fire and spirit” see HdP, VI, 24.1. For man as made of dust see HdF, XLVI,
9.1. Ephrem’s emphasis on the difference between the angel and human natures see HdF XLVI, 8.
1003
See HCH, VII, 4.3; XIX, 8.3.
1004
See HCH, XIX, 5.4-6.
1005
See HdP, I.10-11.
1006
Kronholm, op. cit., 168.
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 to carry the hateful son of adultery

and to be pursued from one place to another?

Teach me, my Lord, how and why

from a virgin womb it was fitting for You to shine forth for us.

Was He a type of splendid Adam [taken]

from the virgin earth that had not been worked until he was formed? …

The succession of kings is written in the name of men instead of women.

Joseph a son of David, betrothed to a daughter of David,

For the child could not be registered in the name of His mother.

He became, therefore, Joseph’s offspring without seed,

and His mother’s offspring without man … .1007

Subsequently, Ephrem depicts the following encounter between Mary and Gabriel:

What indeed was the pure woman doing at the moment

when Gabriel was sent down to her?

She saw him perhaps at the moment of prayer,

for Daniel was also at prayer when he saw Gabriel …

All good tidings came to the harbor of petition;

this greatest of all good tidings, the cause of all rejoicing,

found Mary at prayer and eagerly desired her.

For Gabriel, inhabiting an honorable old man,

entered and greeted her so that she would not tremble,

so that the modest girl would not see

a youthful face and be sad.

To two pure old men and to a virgin girl,

1007
HNat, II.11-13, as translated in McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 78-9.
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 to them alone Gabriel was sent with good tidings.1008

This hymn corresponds with Sūrat Maryam’s annunciation scene on several levels. A

general correspondence is that both compositions express awareness of the slander against Mary

and dismiss it. Both compositions also belong to a larger corpus that is very critical of the Jewish

slander against Mary’s purity. Thus, Sūrat Maryam, as we saw earlier, relates that Mary’s

people accused her of being a “harlot” (Q 19.27a-28), and Sūrat al-Nisa’ states that the Jews

uttered “against Mary a grievous calumny” (Q 4.156). Similarly, Ephrem composed the Hymns

on the Nativity with the main intention of defending the theology of the Incarnation, and

consequently also Jesus’ virginal conception, in response to Jewish “slanderers.” 1009 These

objectives are clearly revealed in the passages cited above from the second hymn of this

collection.1010

Ephrem is clearly safeguarding Mary’s chastity in his portrayal of the annunciation

scene. Besides highlighting Mary’s virginity, purity, and modesty, he also introduces two

unconventional motifs. He first emphasizes that Gabriel “found Mary at prayer.” He then states

that Gabriel appeared to Mary in the image of “an honorable old man,” so she would not “see

a youthful face and be sad.”1011 This portrayal of Gabriel as an old man is exclusive to this

hymn and is not known in late antique literature.1012

The motifs that Ephrem introduces are noteworthy. They reveal that Ephrem was not

merely responding to the common Jewish accusations that Mary had intercourse with a Roman

1008
HNat, II.17-20, as translated in McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 79-80.
1009
Kathleen McVey, “The Anti-Judaic Polemic of Ephrem Syrus’ Hymns on the Nativity,” in Of Scribes and
Scrolls: Studies on the Hebrew Bible, Intertestamental Judaism, and Christian Origins, ed. Harold Attridge et al.
̈
(Lanham: University Press of America, 1990), 232-3. For explicit references to Jews as “slanderers” (‫)ܥܫܘܩܐ‬ in
the Hymns on the Nativity see HNat X.9; XIV.11. Ephrem uses the word “slander” (‫ )ܥܫܩܐ‬and its derivatives, in
these hymns, in numerous other passages on Jewish accusations against Mary’s chastity. See HNat VI.3; X.10;
XII.5, 9-10; XIV.12-14; XV.7-8.
1010
McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 75. In this hymn Ephrem outlines Jesus’ Messiahship from the Hebrew
Bible, stating that “the lyre of the prophets who proclaimed him … the hyssop of the priests who loved Him …
and the diadem of kings who handed it down in succession belong to this Lord of virgins, for even His mother is
a virgin” (HNat, II.2, as translate in McVey, Ephrem the Syrian: Hymns, 76).
1011
HNat, II.19.
1012
McVey, op. cit., 80. n. 98.
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soldier, or any other human being in that regard, since Mary was found alone with the angel

Gabriel in this scene. Ephrem’s reframing of the scene is rather meant to suppress any notion

of sexual tension between Gabriel and Mary in the mind of the reader. Ephrem’s defensive

portrayal of the scene indicates that this intimate encounter between Mary and Gabriel during

the annunciation was used by non-Christian groups to attack Mary’s chastity, or that Ephrem

was suspicious that it might be used that way. Such a vilification, or the anticipation of it, must

have been a realistic possibility, considering the widespread belief in the possibility of

intercourse between angels and women in late antiquity. Ephrem’s second Hymn on the

Nativity, in a similar manner to Sūrat Maryam, is therefore in conversation with the Watchers

tradition in the context of the annunciation. However, while Sūrat Maryam clearly hints at a

sexual tension in the encounter, Ephrem’s hymn endeavors to suppress any notion of it.

Conclusion

In this chapter, I have indicated further points of correspondence between Mary’s

interaction with the angels in Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and the annunciation accounts

of Luke’s Gospel and the Prot. Jas. This examination has also denoted a specific consonance

between these qur’ānic texts and certain Diatessaronic fragments. I have further illustrated that

Sūrat Maryam’s theophany, though comprising elements equivalent to those of the biblical

theophany type-scene, does not portray a mysterium tremendum et fascinans integral to those

scenes. Sūrat Maryam does not depict Mary’s fascination with the theophany nor her fear from

encountering the divine. Rather, the interaction between Mary and the angel clearly conveys

her fear of being sexually assaulted.

The fact that Sūrat Maryam introduces this idiosyncratic motif of sexual tension into the

annunciation indicates that, besides the Gospel traditions, which cannot explain this tension, it

also draws upon additional traditions related to intercourse between angels and women. In this

regard, the Qur’ān is clearly in conversation with the post-biblical lore and also with the pre-
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Islamic Arabian lore. From the former it borrows themes from the Watchers tradition and from

the latter the belief in the Jinn – whom it conflates with angels – and their ability to have sexual

intercourse with human females.

The reason behind Sūrat Maryam’s introduction of this motif is unclear. The Prot. Jas.

and Ephrem the Syrian’s second Hymn on the Nativity seem to offer insight in this regard. Both

works, like Sūrat Maryam, are aware of the Watchers tradition and are in conversation with it

in the context of the annunciation. The Prot. Jas., in a manner similar to Sūrat Maryam,

indicates the sexual undertone not in the annunciation scene but in Joseph’s reflection on the

possibility that Mary’s child might be angelic. Ephrem’s hymn, to the contrary, indicates its

interaction with the Watchers tradition by suppressing any notion of sexuality in its recasting

of the encounter between Mary and Gabriel. Furthermore, both works, similarly to Sūrat

Maryam, associate the sexual tension in the encounter with the Jewish slander regarding Mary’s

chastity. Eventually, however, all three works attempt to lead their audience to the same

conclusion – namely, that Mary remained chaste.

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 Conclusion

The Qur’ān’s interaction with late antique traditions is far from simple. This study has

shown that this interaction is multi-dimensional, and its exploration demands the examination

of many layers and themes: linguistic, theological, literary and exegetical. At times, the

correspondence between the qur’ānic text and the late antique traditions upon which it draws is

very clear and can easily be affirmed. Nevertheless, establishing this correspondence is often

equivalent to tracing footprints in the sand after they have been blurred by the tide. Tracing

these faint footprints, I believe that I have illuminated novel aspects of the qur’ānic nativity

accounts.

Scholarship has thus far focused mainly on the correspondence between the qur’ānic

nativity accounts and the infancy accounts of Matthew and Luke, the Prot. Jas., and other

Infancy Gospels. I have suggested new points of congruence between these accounts and the

Prot. Jas. The most signification of these is Sūrat Maryam’s portrayal of Mary’s first

withdrawal and her use of the ḥijāb in light of the Prot. Jas.’s depiction of the “water of

refutation” ordeal and its affiliation of Mary with the Temple veil.

Furthermore, I have demonstrated that in its reintroduction of the nativity, the Qur’ān

negotiates various other Jewish and Christian traditions. Thus, in the fifth chapter I have shown

that Sūrat Maryam’s presentation of the angel Gabriel as the “spirit of God” is congruent with

references to angels as spirits in Jewish and Christian works. I have also argued that this

depiction of Gabriel corresponds particularly well with the Ascension of Isaiah’s reference to

the Holy Spirit as the angel of the Holy Spirit, whom it also identifies with the angel Gabriel.

In this chapter, I have also pointed out that the annunciation to Mary in Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān – and

also the annunciations to Zechariah in this sūra and Sūrat Maryam – presents a certain “Lord,”

indicating the angel Gabriel, as the mediator between God and the protagonist, in a similar

manner to the Ascension. These correspondences do not prove that the Qur’ān is necessarily

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drawing on the Ascension in this context. They reveal, nonetheless, that the qur’ānic community

integrated these motifs into its nativity accounts through interaction with late antique traditions.

In chapter six, I have shown that the sexual tension ingrained into Sūrat Maryam’s

annunciation scene contains motifs from pre-qur’ānic traditions. The Qur’ān clearly integrates,

in different sūras, various elements from the Watchers tradition and also from pre-Islamic

Arabian beliefs in the Jinn, whom it conflates with the angels. The theme of intercourse between

angels and women was common in late antique literature, but it remains absent from portrayals

of the annunciation. Nevertheless, the indication of sexual tension in the annunciation in the

Prot. Jas. and Ephrem the Syrian’s second Hymn on the Nativity reveals that these Christian

texts are defending Mary against such claims as might have circulated in late antiquity. Also in

this context, one cannot identify the specific tradition with which Sūrat Maryam converses.

However, this theme reveals that Sūrat Maryam shares an additional motif with the Prot. Jas.

and Ephrem’s Hymns on the Nativity. Thus, in a similar manner to both these works, this sūra

is also aware of the Jewish slander against Mary’s chastity and it also dismisses it in this specific

setting of the nativity.

This study has further illustrated that the qur’ānic nativity accounts’ remolding of

preceding traditions is subject to various literary, cultural and theological factors. The

examination of these motifs has proven essential for understanding the Qur’ān’s reintroduction

of the nativity. They reveal the reason for which, and also the way in which, the Qur’ān

highlights, modifies, conceals and even omits certain themes.

We saw the importance of using biblical literary motifs to explicate the accounts of

Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. Thus, Sūrat Maryam’s use of the same verb, “withdrew”

(’intabadha), to describe Mary’s first and second withdrawals suggests a connection between

them. It therefore reveals that as the second withdrawal is associated with shame, so is the first.

The sequence of actions of withdrawal, concealment and a second withdrawal that ends with

the “reversal” depicted in Mary’s return to her people emphasizes the severity of Mary’s
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condition and the degree of her separation from her community. This sequence of actions as

well as the theophany type-scene accentuate Mary’s divinely appointed destiny. Similarly,

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān places Mary’s family as well as her birth and dedication to God at the end of a

genealogy of chosen protagonists. By this it highlights the prophetic lineage of Mary’s family

and indicates that salvation history unfolds teleologically, reaching its climax with her birth. In

this sense, this sūra also emphasizes that Mary, not Jesus, is the central figure of its nativity

account.

The qur’ānic texts examined in this study reveal only a few cultural and theological

motifs that are unique to the qur’ānic community, probably because they draw heavily upon

other traditions. Thus, Sūrat Maryam’s omission of the social scandal associated with Mary’s

pregnancy in the Prot. Jas. indicates the intention of emphasizing her chastity. This notion is

further confirmed by the fact that whereas the Prot. Jas. attempts to reinforce Mary’s celibacy

by presenting Joseph as her mere guardian, instead of her husband, the Qur’ān seems to be

overprotective of this theme as it omits Joseph altogether. Mary’s mother’s disappointment at

the birth of her daughter might also reflect the qur’ānic notion of the preference of males over

females in certain contexts.

On the theological level, Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān attempt to dismiss or refute

Christian beliefs regarding Jesus’ conception, his divinity and his soteriological role. Thus, both

sūras avoid mentioning that Jesus was conceived through the Holy Spirit and emphasize instead

that he was created ex nihilo inside Mary. Both sūras also strip Jesus of his divine titles,

emphasizing that his sonship is not to God but rather to Mary, calling him “Jesus, son of Mary”

and refraining from any reference to his role in the forgiveness of sins.

In addition to this study’s focus on reading the qur’ānic text in light of late antique

traditions, the examination of the mufassirūn’s expositions has proven essential as well, offering

significant insights into the interaction between these bodies of literature. Thus, the mufassirūn

interpret the term muḥarrar as denoting the Nazirite who is dedicated to God. This explanation
377
was very instructing in reading references to Mary’s purity and her dedication to God in the

Prot. Jas. in light of biblical references to Nazarites. It therefore helped establishing this

correspondence between the Prot. Jas. and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān. The various meanings that the

mufassirūn offer for miḥrāb are also vital in establishing the connection between this term and

the Temple, or its sanctuary, and therefore also between the Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān and the Prot. Jas.

The mufassirūn’s discussion of Mary’s menstruation is also revealing. The Prot. Jas.

implies that Mary was removed from the Temple due to the fear that she might defile it by her

menstruation. Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān refers to the contest over who would become Mary’s guardian,

depicted in the Prot. Jas., but it does not make any reference to Mary’s menstruation or her

removal from the Temple. The mufassirūn’s emphasis on the theme of menstruation in relation

to the miḥrāb in their expositions of Sūrat Maryam and Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān reveals firstly their

dependence upon an additional Prot. Jas. tradition. It shows that the Prot. Jas. tradition was not

only essential to the qur’ānic community that produced these accounts but also to the

subsequent generations of Muslims who commented on them. It moreover indicates the

underlying connection between the qur’ānic nativity accounts and the Prot. Jas. in regard to

this specific theme, which they do not explicate.

This study has also identified themes in the qur’ānic nativity that echo Christian

liturgical traditions. The thematic consonance with Ephrem’s hymns is particularly notable. The

specific congruence between certain qur’ānic phrases and Diatessaronic fragments further

betrays Syriac influence. These correspondences suggest that the Qur’ān’s interaction with

Syriac, liturgical, and other Christian and Jewish traditions should be further examined in the

context of the nativity and other accounts.

378
 ‫‪Appendix‬‬
‫__________________________‬
‫‪The Qur’ānic Nativity Accounts‬‬

‫ُس ۡوارةُ ام ارَي‬

‫اًن اش ْرقِيًّا‬ ‫ِ‬

‫ت ِم ْن أ ْاهل اها ام اك ً‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫‪ .16‬واذْ ُكر ِِف الْ ِكتا ِ‬
‫اب ام ْرااَي إِذ انْتا با اذ ْ‬ ‫ا ْ‬
‫َّل اَلاا با اشًرا اس ِوًَّي‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫‪ .17‬فا َّاَّتا اذ ِ ِِ ِ‬
‫وحناا فاتا امث ا‬
‫ت م ْن ُدوِن ْم ح اج ًاًب فاأ ْار اس ْلناا إلاْي اها ُر ا‬
‫ْ‬

‫ت تاِقيًّا‬ ‫ت إِِّن أاعُوذُ ًِب َّلر ْْحا ِن ِمْن ا‬

‫ك إِ ْن ُكْن ا‬ ‫‪ .18‬قاالا ْ‬
‫ك ِْلاهب لا ِ‬
‫ك غُ اَل ًما ازكِيًّا‬ ‫ول ربِ ِ‬ ‫‪ .19‬قا ا َِّ‬
‫ا ا‬ ‫ال إَّناا أ ااًن ار ُس ُ ا‬
‫اَّن يا ُكو ُن ِِل غُ اَل ٌم اواَلْ َياْ اس ْس ِِن با اشٌر اواَلْ أ ُاك باغِيًّا‬
‫ت أ َّ‬
‫‪ .20‬قاالا ْ‬
‫َّاس ور ْْحةً ِمنَّا واكا ان أامرا م ْق ِ‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫ك هو علاي هِ ِ‬ ‫ال اك اذلِ ِ‬
‫ضيًّا‬ ‫ال اربُّ ِ ُ ا ا َّ ا ٌ‬
‫ني اولنا ْج اعلاهُ آياةً للن ِ ا ا ا ا ْ ً ا‬ ‫ك قا ا‬ ‫‪ .21‬قا ا‬

‫صيًّا‬ ‫ت بِِه ام اك ً‬
‫اًن قا ِ‬ ‫‪ .22‬فا اح املاْتهُ فاانْتا با اذ ْ‬

‫ت نا ْسيًا امْن ِسيًّا‬ ‫ت اَي لاْي تاِِن ِم ُّ‬ ‫‪ .23‬فاأاجاءها الْمخاض إِ اَل ِج ْذ ِع الن ِ‬
‫ت قا ْب ال اه اذا اوُكْن ُ‬ ‫َّخلاة قاالا ْ‬
‫ْ‬ ‫ا اا ا ا ُ‬
‫‪ .24‬فانا ااداها ِمن اَْتتِها أاََّّل اَْتزِّن قا ْد جعل ربُّ ِ‬
‫ك اَْتتا ِ‬
‫ك اس ِرًَّي‬ ‫اا ا ا‬ ‫ا‬ ‫ا ْ ا‬
‫َّخلا ِة تُساقِ ْط اعلاي ِ‬
‫ك ُرطابًا اجنِيًّا‬ ‫ِ ِ ِ ِِ‬
‫ْ‬ ‫‪ .25‬اوُهزي إلاْيك ِب ْذ ِع الن ْ ا‬
‫ص ْوًما فالا ْن أُ اكلِ ام الْيا ْوام إِنْ ِسيًّا‬ ‫‪ .26‬فا ُكلِي وا ْشرِِب وقا ِري عي نا فاِإ َّما تاريِ َّن ِمن الْبش ِر أاحدا فا ُق ِوِل إِِّن نا اذر ِ‬
‫ت ل َّلر ْْحا ِن ا‬
‫ُْ‬ ‫ا ا ا ا اً‬ ‫ا ا ا اْ ً‬
‫‪ .27‬فاأاتات بِِه قاومها اَْت ِملُه قاالُوا َي مراَي لااق ْد ِجْئ ِ‬
‫ت اشْي ئًا فا ِرًَّي‬ ‫ا اْ ُ‬ ‫ُ‬ ‫ْ ْاا‬
‫ك باغِيًّا‬
‫ت أ ُُّم ِ‬ ‫ٍ‬ ‫ِ‬
‫ت اه ُارو ان اما اكا ان أابُوك ْامارأا اس ْوء اواما اكانا ْ‬
‫ُخ ا‬
‫‪ .28‬اَي أ ْ‬
‫ِ‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫اشار ِ‬
‫صبِيًّا‬ ‫ت إِلاْيه قاالُوا اكْي ا‬
‫ف نُ اكل ُم ام ْن اكا ان ِِف الْ ام ْهد ا‬ ‫‪ .29‬فاأ ا ا ْ‬

‫اب او اج اعلا ِِن نابِيًّا‬ ‫اَّللِ ا ِ‬ ‫ال إِِّن اعْب ُد َّ‬

‫آًتِّنا الْكتا ا‬ ‫‪ .30‬قا ا‬
‫لص اَل ِة و َّ ِ‬ ‫ت وأ ْاو ا ِ ِ‬
‫ت احيًّا‬
‫الزاكاة اما ُد ْم ُ‬ ‫صاّن ًب َّ ا‬ ‫‪ .31‬او اج اعلاِِن ُمبا اارًكا أايْ ان اما ُكْن ُ ا‬

‫‪379‬‬
 ‫ اوباًّرا بِاوالِ ادِِت اواَلْ اَْي اع ْل ِِن اجبَّ ًارا اش ِقيًّا‬.32

‫ث احيًّا‬ ِ
ُ ‫وت اويا ْوام أُبْ اع‬
ُ ‫ت اويا ْوام أ ُام‬
ُ ‫الس اَل ُم اعلا اي يا ْوام ُول ْد‬
َّ ‫ او‬.33

‫اِلا ِق الَّ ِذي فِ ِيه َياْاَتُو ان‬

ْ ‫يسى ابْ ُن ام ْرااَي قا ْو ال‬ ِ ‫ اذلِ ا‬.34
‫كع ا‬
ُ ‫ضى أ ْامًرا فاِإََّّناا يا ُق‬ ٍ ِ ِ ِِ
ُّ ‫ول لاهُ ُك ْن فايا ُك‬
‫ون‬ ‫ اما اكا ان ََّّلل أا ْن ياتَّخ اذ م ْن اولاد ُسْب احاناهُ إِ اذا قا ا‬.35
ِ ٌ ‫اَّلل رِِب وربُّ ُكم فااعبدوه ه اذا ِصرا‬ ِ
‫يم‬
ٌ ‫ط ُم ْستاق‬ ‫ اوإ َّن َّا ا ا ا ْ ْ ُ ُ ُ ا ا‬.36
‫ين اك اف ُروا ِم ْن ام ْش اه ِد يا ْوٍم اع ِظي ٍم‬ ِ َِّ ِ ِ ِ ُ ‫احاز‬
‫اب م ْن باْينه ْم فا اويْ ٌل للذ ا‬ ْ ‫ف ْاْل‬
‫اختا لا ا‬
ْ ‫ فا‬.37

Sūrat Maryam

16. And mention in the Scripture [the story of] Mary as she withdrew from her people to an

eastern place.

17. And [she] took a veil apart from them, then We sent to her Our Spirit who was manifested

to her as a flawless human being.

18. She said, “[Lo!] I seek refuge in the Merciful One from you, if you are pious.”

19. He said, “I am but the messenger of your Lord, to grant you a pure boy.”

20. She said, “How shall to me be a boy when no human has [ever] touched me, nor have I been

a harlot?”

21. He said, “Thus has your Lord said, ‘This is simple for me, and [it will be] so that We would

appoint him [as] a sign to humans and [a] mercy from Us; and it is a thing decreed.’”

22. So she conceived him, and she withdrew with him to a remote place.

23. And the birth-pangs drove her to the trunk of the palm-tree. She said, “Oh, would that I had

died before this, and been forgotten, unremembered.”

24. Then he called her from beneath her (saying), “do not sadden! Your Lord has made below

you a rivulet.”

380
25. “And shake towards yourself the trunk of the palm tree; it will let fall upon you fresh, ripe

dates.”

26. “Therefore, eat and drink and be consoled. Then, if you should see any human being, say,

‘I have vowed a fast to the Merciful-one and I shall, therefore, not talk to any human being

today.’”

27. And then she came with him to her people carrying him. They said: “O Mary! You came

[up] with something perplexing.”

28. “O sister of Aaron! Your father was not a man of evil, nor was your mother a harlot.”

29. So she pointed to him. They said, “How can we speak to one who is in the cradle, a young

boy?”

30. He said, “I am the slave of Allah. He has given me the Scripture and made me a prophet.”

31. “And He has made me blessed wheresoever I may be, and has enjoined on me prayer and

charity as long as I live.”

32. “And [has enjoined on me] benevolence towards my mother, and He has not made me

overbearing, wretched.”

33. “And peace is upon me the day I was born, the day that I die, and the day I am resurrected

alive.”

34. That is Jesus, son of Mary; [this is] the statement of truth concerning which they are

disputing.

35. It is not [befitting] for Allah that He would take a child; praise be to Him. If He [has] decreed

a matter, He merely says to it ‘Be,’ and it comes into existence.

36. [Jesus said], “And surely Allah is my Lord and your Lord, therefore worship him, this is a

straight path.”

37. “So the parties conflicted [with each other]; but woe to those who disbelieved from the

scene of a great day.”

381
 ‫مران‬ ‫س ۡورةُ آل ِ‬
‫ع‬
‫ا‬ ‫ُا‬
‫ني‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫آل إِب ر ِاهيم و ا ِ‬ ‫‪ .33‬إِ َّن َّ‬
‫آل ع ْمارا ان اعلاى الْ اعالام ا‬ ‫وحا او ا ْ ا ا ا‬‫آد ام اونُ ً‬
‫اصطاافى ا‬
‫اَّللا ْ‬
‫اَّلل اَِس ِ‬ ‫ض اها ِم ْن با ْع ٍ‬
‫يم‬
‫يع اعل ٌ‬
‫ض او َُّ ٌ‬ ‫‪ .34‬ذُ ِريَّةً با ْع ُ‬
‫الس ِم ِ‬
‫يم‬
‫يع الْ اعل ُ‬
‫ت َّ ُ‬ ‫ك اما ِِف باطِِْن ُُماَّرًرا فاتا اقبَّ ْل ِم ِِن إِن ا‬
‫َّك أانْ ا‬ ‫ت لا ا‬ ‫ت ْامرأاةُ ِعمرا ان ر ِ‬
‫ب إِِّن نا اذ ْر ُ‬
‫ِ ِ‬
‫‪ .35‬إ ْذ قاالا ا ْ ا ا‬
‫الذ اك ُر اك ْاْلُنْثاى اوإِِّن اَسَّْي تُ اها ام ْراَيا اوإِِّن‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫ت رِ‬
‫ت ولاْيس َّ‬
‫ض اع ْ ا ا‬
‫اَّللُ أ ْاعلا ُم ِباا او ا‬ ‫ب إِِّن او ا‬
‫ض ْعتُ اها أُنْثاى او َّ‬ ‫ض اعْت اها قاالا ْ ا‬
‫‪ .36‬فالا َّما او ا‬

‫الرِجي ِم‬ ‫ك وذُ ِريَّتا ها ِمن الشَّيطا ِ‬

‫ان َّ‬ ‫أُعي ُذ اها بِ ا ا ا ا ْ‬
‫ِ‬

‫اب او اج اد ِعْن اد اها ِرْزقًا‬ ‫ِ‬

‫اًت اح اسنًا اواك َّفلا اها ازاك ِرََّي ُكلَّ اما اد اخ ال اعلاْي اها ازاك ِرََّي الْم ْحار ا‬
‫‪ .37‬فاتا اقبَّ لاها رُّّبا بِاقب ٍ‬
‫ول اح اس ٍن اوأانْبا تا اها نابا ً‬‫ا اا ُ‬
‫اَّلل ي رُز ُق من ي اشاء بِغا ِْْي ِحس ٍ‬ ‫ت ُهو ِمن ِعْن ِد َِّ ِ‬ ‫ال َي مراَي أ َّ ِ‬
‫اب‬ ‫ا‬ ‫اَّلل إ َّن َّا ا ْ ا ْ ا ُ‬ ‫اَّن لاك اه اذا قاالا ْ ا ْ‬ ‫قا ا ا ا ْ ُ‬
‫ُّع ِاء‬
‫يع الد ا‬
‫ك ذُ ِريَّةً طايِبةً إِن ا ِ‬
‫َّك اَس ُ‬ ‫ا‬ ‫ب ِِل ِم ْن لا ُدنْ ا‬ ‫ك اد اعا ازاك ِرََّي ربَّهُ قا ا ِ‬
‫ال ارب اه ْ‬ ‫ا‬
‫ِ‬
‫‪ُ .38‬هناال ا‬

‫ورا اونابِيًّا‬ ‫اَّلل ي ب ِشراك بِيحَي مص ِدقًا بِ اكلِم ٍة ِمن َِّ‬ ‫‪ .39‬فانا اادتْهُ الْم اَلئِ اكةُ وُهو قاائِم يصلِي ِِف الْ ِم ْحر ِ‬
‫صً‬ ‫اَّلل او اسيِ ًدا او اح ُ‬ ‫ا ا‬ ‫ان َّا ُا ُ ا ْ ا ُ ا‬ ‫اب أ َّ‬‫ا‬ ‫ا ا ٌُا‬ ‫ا‬
‫ني‬‫ِمن َّ ِِ‬
‫الصاِل ا‬ ‫ا‬
‫اَّن ي ُكو ُن ِِل غُ اَلم وقا ْد ب لاغ ِِن الْ ِكَب وامرأِاِت عاقِر قا ا ِ‬ ‫‪ .40‬قا ا ِ‬
‫اَّللُ يا ْف اع ُل اما يا اشاءُ‬
‫ك َّ‬ ‫ال اك اذل ا‬ ‫ٌ ا ا ا ا اُ ا ْ ا ا ٌ‬ ‫ال ارب أ َّ ا‬
‫ك اكثِْيا و اسبِ ْح ًِبلْ اع ِش ِي و ِْ‬ ‫ٍِ‬ ‫ال آي ت َّ ِ‬
‫اْلبْ اكا ِر‬ ‫ا‬ ‫َّاس ثااَلثاةا أ َّاَيم إََّّل ارْمًزا اواذْ ُك ْر اربَّ ا ً ا‬ ‫ال ار ِب ْ‬
‫اج اع ْل ِِل آياًة قا ا اُ ا‬
‫ك أاَّل تُ اكل ام الن ا‬ ‫‪ .41‬قا ا‬

‫ني‬ ‫ِ ِ ِ‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫ِ‬ ‫ت الْ ام اَلئِ اكةُ اَي ام ْراَيُ إِ َّن َّ‬
‫‪ .42‬وإِ ْذ قاالا ِ‬
‫اصطاافاك اعلاى ن اساء الْ اعالام ا‬
‫اصطاافاك اوطا َّهارك او ْ‬
‫اَّللا ْ‬ ‫ا‬
‫ك واسج ِدي واراكعِي مع َّ ِ ِ‬
‫ِِ ِ‬
‫ني‬
‫الراكع ا‬ ‫‪ .43‬اَي ام ْراَيُ اقْ نُِِت لارب ا ْ ُ ا ْ ا ا‬
‫ت لا اديْ ِه ْم إِ ْذ‬
‫ت لا اديْ ِه ْم إِ ْذ يُْل ُقو ان أاقْ اَل ام ُه ْم أايُّ ُه ْم يا ْك ُف ُل ام ْراَيا اواما ُكْن ا‬ ‫وح ِيه إِلاْي ا‬
‫ك اواما ُكْن ا‬ ‫ك ِم ْن أانْبا ِاء الْغاْي ِ‬
‫ب نُ ِ‬ ‫ِ‬
‫اذل ا‬ ‫‪.44‬‬

‫اَيْتا ِ‬
‫ص ُمو ان‬

‫يسى ابْ ُن ام ْرااَي اوِج ًيها ِِف الدُّنْياا او ْاْل ِخارةِ اوِم ان‬ ‫اَسه الْم ِس ِ‬
‫يح ع ا‬
‫ت الْم اَلئِ اكةُ َي مراَي إِ َّن َّ ِ ِ ِ ِ ٍ ِ‬
‫اَّللا يُباش ُرك ب اكل امة مْنهُ ُْ ُ ا ُ‬ ‫ا اْ ُ‬
‫ِ ِ‬
‫‪ .45‬إ ْذ قاالا ا‬

‫الْ ُم اقَّربِ ا‬
‫ني‬

‫‪382‬‬
 ‫ني‬ِِ َّ ‫ وي اكلِم النَّاس ِِف الْمه ِد واكه ًَل وِمن‬.46
‫الصاِل ا‬ ‫اْ ا ْ ا ا‬ ‫اُ ُ ا‬
ُ ‫ضى أ ْامًرا فاِإََّّناا يا ُق‬
‫ول لاهُ ُك ْن‬ ‫اَّللُ اَيْلُ ُق اما يا اشاءُ إِ اذا قا ا‬
َّ ‫ك‬ ِ ِ‫ال اك اذل‬
‫اَّن يا ُكو ُن ِِل اولا ٌد اواَلْ َياْ اس ْس ِِن با اشٌر قا ا‬ ِ‫ت ر‬
َّ ‫ب أ‬‫قاالا ْ ا‬ .47

‫فايا ُكو ُن‬

Sūrat Āl-‘Imrān

33. [Surely] Allah chose Adam and Noah and the family of Abraham and the family of ‘Imrān

over the worlds.

34. Offspring one from another; and Allah is [all] hearer, [all] knower.

35. Behold! When the wife of ‘Imrān said, “My Lord, I have vowed to You [in dedication] what

is within my belly [as a] consecrated [offering]; so accept [it] from me. You are the [ever]

Hearer, the [ever] Knower!”

36. So when she brought her forth, she said: “My Lord! I have brought her forth, a female” –

and Allah knows best what she brought forth – “and the male is not as the female; and I

have named her Mary, and I seek in You a refuge for her and her offspring from the accursed

Satan.”

37. So her Lord accepted her with good acceptance and made her grow well and gave her to the

guardianship of Zechariah. Whenever Zechariah entered into her [into] the miḥrāb he found

with her sustenance. He said: “O Mary! From where is this [sustenance provided] to you?”

She said: “It is from Allah; Allah sustains whom he wills without measure.”

38. There Zechariah called [upon] his Lord; he said, “My Lord! Grant me from yourself a good

offspring, You are the hearer of supplication.”

39. So the angels called him while he was standing at prayer in the miḥrāb [saying], “Indeed,

Allah gives you glad tidings of John believing in a word from Allah, and a master, and a

chaste man, and a prophet from [among] the upright (Q 3.39).

383
40. He said, “My Lord, how shall to me be a boy when advanced age has overtaken me and my

wife is barren? He said, “So [it will be], Allah does whatever He wills.’”

41. He said, “My Lord, make for me a sign.” He Said, “Your sign [is that you] shall not speak

to the people for three days except by signals. And remember your Lord much, and praise

[Him] in the evening and the early morning.”

42. And [mention] when the angels said: “O Mary, [indeed] Allah has chosen you and purified

you and chosen you over [all] the women of the worlds.”

43. “O Mary! be obedient to your Lord, prostrate yourself, and bow down with those bowing

down.”

45. [And mention] When the angels said, “O Mary, [indeed] Allah gives you glad tidings of a

Word from him, whose name is the Messiah, Jesus, son of Mary, illustrious in the world

and the hereafter, and from among those who are brought near [to Allah].”

46. “And he shall speak to the people [while] in the cradle and [as] a mature person, and [he

shall be] of the virtuous.”

47. She said, “My Lord, how shall to me be a child, when no human being has [ever] touched

me?” He said, “So [it will be], Allah creates whatever He wills: if He decrees a matter, He

merely says to it ‘Be,’ and it comes into existence.”

384
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Videos:

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