An Unnoticed Jacob–Esau Allusion in Acts

Abstract

A suggestion is made about a possible but hitherto unnoticed Jacob–Esau allusion in the Petrine vision of Acts 10. This not only fits well with the dense scriptural intertexture already observed for the passage but may further illuminate the tense issues involved, both in the impending Cornelius visit and in the related Acts 15 conference. Besides offering a close match to Acts 10:13 in the fateful meal invitation of Gen 27:19, the Jacob–Esau story was not only widely used in relation to the Jew–gentile divide but also displays a strong connection to food and the capture and slaughter of animals. Jewish traditions about the source of Esau’s power over “all the beasts of the field and birds of the air” may lie behind the otherwise curious image in the vision. The story’s brooding sense of conflict and deception and the vulnerability of the ailing Isaac, whose persona Peter is invited to assume, all contribute to the destabilisation the vision seeks to achieve.

1. Introduction

It is with some trepidation that any student of the New Testament dares to make an observation that cannot, apparently, be found in any commentary to date, and particularly so in the perilous field of intertextuality. Nevertheless, this paper outlines the case for a hitherto unnoticed Jacob–Esau allusion in the Petrine vision of Acts 10, based on the close match of Acts 10:13 to the meal invitation of Gen 27:19. Although subtle in some regards, this starts with a genuinely lexical observation, and once noticed, a glance towards this patriarchal story begins to make sense in other ways. Not only does it sit well within the dense scriptural intertexture of the passage, widely agreed to be echoing the language of the creation and Noah accounts, but it fits thematically, too, illuminating a cluster of issues linking the vision to the Acts 15 conference, not least in foreshadowing the Jew–gentile divide. Nevertheless, it is the story’s strong connection not only to the “two peoples” but specifically to food and the capture and slaughter of animals that provides such a good fit for the dynamics of Acts 10. It is finally noted that Jewish traditions about the source of Esau’s power over “the beasts of the field and birds of the air” may lie behind the vision’s curious imagery. At the narrative level, the story’s brooding sense of conflict, deception and the vulnerability of the ailing Isaac, whose persona Peter is invited to assume, all add to the destabilisation the vision seeks to achieve.

In the remainder of this introduction, I survey previous scholarship on the vision before looking at its broader intertextual configuration and the problem of determining intent for allusions of this kind. Two major sections then follow, one concentrating on the lexical and grammatical issues surrounding the meal-bidding formula and the basic identification of a suggestive match in Genesis, and the second exploring the wider fit in terms of themes and motifs, including the Jew–gentile divide, concerns about hunting and animal slaughter and finally, Jewish traditions about the source of Esau’s power over the animals. Finally, these various insights are brought together in a provisional re-reading of the vision before a concluding summary and evaluation.

1.1. Acts 10, Claimed Intertexts and Rhetorical Perspective

The vision of Acts 10 with its command to eat unclean animals contains powerful allusions to themes and images from the Hebrew Bible. This starts with the classic statements of the food laws in Leviticus and Deuteronomy1, but other related resonances have frequently been discerned, often prompted by the wording of particular phrases. These include echoes of the creation2 and Noah3 stories, the laws of non-ritual slaughter4 and, probably the clearest of all, Ezekiel’s refusal to eat unclean food5, itself alluding to additional food laws specifically pertaining to priests6. Further credible links include relationships to the book of Jonah7, commissioning narratives and prophetic signs8, apocalyptic animal imagery9 and other suggestions beyond these10. This complexity is partially replicated in the description of Cornelius and his earlier vision, where links have been perceived to the story of Naaman the Syrian11, the book of Tobit12 and Philo and Josephus’ characterisations of Moses13.

Sandmel’s classic caution notwithstanding14, it is widely agreed that Luke makes extensive use of Scripture to undergird his rhetorical aims15 as others do across the New Testament16. Although the use of the literary-critical term “intertextuality” in biblical studies from the late 1980s17 has caused some confusion over its possible reference to later reception18, those working within a rhetorical paradigm continue to conceive of authorial intent, the approach broadly if cautiously adopted here19. Given the complex nature of the passage and inevitable questions surrounding the subtlety of what is being suggested, some attention is first given to questions of method and approach.

1.2. Intertextual Configurations

Relationships between a text and one or more prior texts can involve everything from individual verses through to larger-scale relationships20 and differ in degrees of dependency from direct quotation through to vaguer similarities, such as allusions and echoes21, and where at the broader level, this may amount to little more than stylistic or generic imitation22. While quotations, allusions and narrative mimesis may stand as the sole intertextual evocations in a particular passage, they are frequently combined, and although broadly supportive of some overall and often relatively obvious theme, apparently secondary material may play a vital role in modifying, nuancing or even subverting the more obvious elements23. Additionally, where oral tradition and cultural knowledge are also involved, scholars may prefer to speak of a wider sense of intertexture24, a term that I use to refer to the ensemble of such relationships that an author uses to “frame” a compositional unit25.

Acts 10:9–16 shows a particular intertextual pattern which can be seen elsewhere in Luke–Acts. Although it resembles other visions and commissioning narratives and is thus mimetic in general terms, it is not modelled per se upon any single prior narrative. However, at the level of detail, it shows a high density of links to a variety of scriptural passages. These range from strong verbal similarities through to subtler allusions or echoes, a phenomenon also seen in the Areopagus speech and other passages26.

1.3. The Problem of Allusion and Echoes

Scholars have shown a growing interest in looser resonances27, coming to understand that they are not simply vague or under-developed but that their use constitutes a technique in its own right28 and that the ability to know when to quote and when to allude was much valued29. Whether an allusion is truly being “made”, of course, remains uncertain30 and may be unconscious rather than intentional31. Nevertheless, scholars can still speak of a threshold “volume” that might reasonably trigger recognition32. In turn, the requirement that any such allusion is somehow interpretable within the rhetorical aims of a passage would seem to make eminent sense33. On this basis, reasonable cases have been made for the use of Tobit in the characterisation of Cornelius in Acts 10:1–434 as well as a Heracles allusion in the description of Jesus in Luke 7:3435. Weaker allusions may be entertained, however, when other supporting factors pertain. This includes when a single running hypotext is involved36, where a text or tradition is visible elsewhere in the same or related works37, or fits well with other pointers in the same passage supporting a particular theme or concern38.

Acts 10:9–16 fits this latter pattern. Behind its evident focus on unclean food and association with gentiles, its subtler evocations of the creation story and the conflicted sensibilities of Ezekiel and Jonah offer a web of scriptural suggestion by which Luke develops and interprets the vision’s anxieties39. It is the overall shape of this intertextual discourse that allows judgements to be made about the “fit” of a hitherto unnoticed element. That the Esau resonance being suggested here has not only a lexical basis in the Septuagint but also shows thematic links to both food and the Jew–gentile problem amounts to a reasonable case for exploration40.

2. The Meal-Bidding Formula

Central to this striking if enigmatic vision is the distinctive invitation in Acts 10:13, “rise, … kill and eat”, ἀναστάς … θῦσον καὶ φάγε. A rather pithy and memorable invitation with a distinct grammatical structure, it is rarely if at all seen as a scriptural allusion. Although it shows some similarity to meal-related formulae in 1 Kings, a closer match displaying the same grammatical structure is in fact provided by a different Septuagintal passage that is otherwise unreported by commentators. This is the deceptive meal invitation extended by Jacob to his father in Gen 27:19, which reads ἀναστὰς κάθισον καὶ φάγε. Although implicating Luke in a one-word and very telling modification (θῦσον, kill, for κάθισον, recline)41, the overall resonant “volume” remains strong42, not least because the Genesis story fits so well with the themes and anxieties of the vision. Not only does it feature the tension between “safe” Jewish food and uncertainly killed wild game, but the Esau Jacob story is also a powerful and long-lived symbol of the Jew–gentile distinction.

In the remaining parts of this section, I concentrate on the wording and syntax of the invitation, the distinctive appearance of an initial participle, and develop the observation noted above that—bar one word—it might very reasonably remind readers of the invitation in the Jacob–Esau story.

2.1. Structure, Wording and Septuagintal Style

After the descent of the vision’s enigmatic “sheet” or other receptacle, Peter is commanded “Rise, Peter; kill and eat” (ἀναστάς, Πέτρε, θῦσον καὶ φάγε, Acts 10:13). This memorable invitation, which, bar the addition of a conventional vocative43, is comprised of an aorist participle and two aorist imperatives and reflects a typical Septuagintal rendering of a common Semitic pattern. Before exploring a possible link to the Esau–Jacob story, I shall first survey the nature and distribution of such formulae in the LXX and cognate literature and Luke’s own preferences elsewhere in the Gospel and Acts.

Besides the evident similarity to memorable triadic patterns known from rhetorical, didactic, or gnomic contexts44, the chaining together of two or more verb clauses is a standard Semitic device and, in the Hebrew Bible, is frequently visible in contexts of action, movement, or speech. Of particular interest in relation to the formulation of Acts 10:13, we often see protagonists commanded to “rise, [do] X and/or Y, etc.)” using a sequence of two or three usually Qal imperatives, often starting with the inchoative קום (“arise”—occasionally also עלה or שׁכם) and where a third element, if present, is collocated by a vav consecutive. Commands starting with קום and its cognates belong to a class of Semitic idioms45 that find their way into the LXX’s often word-for-word translation.

In at least some concrete situations where the addressee is asleep, prostrate, or reclining, then “getting up” is a natural first action46. For similar reasons, “rising” conventionally precedes acts of public speaking, particularly in legal contexts47. However, it is also a common metaphor for making oneself ready for action, where it is often accompanied by the “girding up of loins”, etc.48, and in military contexts, can signal the start of a campaign or insurgency49. However, there is a distinctively Semitic tendency to include “getting up” even when it is less obviously needed, e.g., for more general movements or actions where, in practice, it functions as an inceptive or inchoative pleonasm50. While this is seen frequently in the Hebrew Bible, and thence the LXX and other Jewish texts in Greek, it remains uncommon in Greek literature more widely51.

Typical examples of this quasi-redundant phrasing include Deut 9:12 קום רד (arise, go down …, LXX ἀνάστηθι κατάβηθι) and 2 Kgs 8:1 וגורי … קומי ולכי (arise, go … and dwell, LXX ἀνάστηθι καὶ δεῦρο … καὶ παροίκει), where, as indicated, other wording can come in between the imperatives and, as in the Acts example, personal vocatives can occur before the second element, e.g., Judg 5:12 קום ברק ושׁבה (get up, Barak and lead away …, LXX ἀνάστα, Βαρακ, καὶ αἰχμαλώτισον)52. In the Hebrew Bible, there are some 45 two-fold command formulae53 and 15 three-fold examples54, which in the LXX are most simply translated by a string of aorist imperatives, as for instance, in Gen 21:18 ἀνάστηθι, λαβὲ … καὶ κράτησον55.

2.2. Circumstantial Participles and Pleonastic ἀναστάς

Although concatenated verb clauses were certainly used in Classical and Hellenistic prose56 and provided a natural pattern for later Jewish and Christian authors57, sequences of prior actions were characteristically expressed by a more specialised construction using a catena of “circumstantial” participles (“having done X, and Y, etc.”)58. Although used more sparingly in Koine than Classical Greek, the device was still regarded as good style59. In the LXX, an initial קום (et sim.), whether pleonastic or required, could therefore be rendered by a participle60, as seen in Judg 8:20 (ἀναστὰς ἀπόκτεινον, arise and kill) and 2 Kgs 1:3 (ἀναστὰς ἀνάβηθι … καὶ οἴκει, arise, go up … and settle). In cases which deliver an imperative or exhortative sense, of the two-fold examples in the LXX, only 6/44 (c. 14%) use a participle in this way, but this rises to 8/17 (47%) for the three-fold patterns, all of which use ἀνίστημι61.

Although widely acknowledged to be imitating the Septuagint in a variety of ways,62 Luke’s frequent use of the pleonastic ἀναστάς has been seen as a particular indicator of stylistic proximity63. However, it is clearly also a personal preference. The participle is used in Mark64, and although Luke only reproduces one of the Markan cases65, he boasts a further 35 of his own. These include four redactional additions66, another 12 in the special material and a further 19 in Acts67. Of these, 16 are required by the physical context or by rhetorical convention68, but 19 appear to be purely pleonastic69. In Luke, unlike Mark, three-fold patterns with an initial ἀναστάς are particularly evident, including several commands70. Although Matthew shows some similarities to Luke in so far as he knows the Semitic pattern “N arose and did X [and Y]” and also uses an opening participle, he prefers ἐγείρω to ἀνίστημι and has barely any pleonastic cases71, making Luke’s tendencies more recognisably Septuagintal than just Semitic.

The evidence surveyed above suggests that any reader familiar with the Septuagint would thus have a fair chance of recognising Luke’s predilection for such formulae as biblically resonant. We now turn to the very specific suggestion of a close similarity between Luke’s phrasing in Acts 10:13 and one particular use in Genesis, the only such example to appear in the context of a meal.

2.3. Invitations to Eat and the Case for Gen 27:19

As noted above, while the wording of Acts 10:13 can certainly be explained by Lukan preference or the conscious adoption of a Septuagintal pattern, it nevertheless begs the question as to whether an invitation to eat cast in this form does not actually occur in a biblical episode. This question is made all the more pertinent by the absence of such formulae in wider Greek usage, via both the paucity of pleonastic inchoative participles in general72 and the fact that such a construction is never used as a meal-bidding formula in a social context. Indeed, although it is not credible that such things were never said, there appears to be no reference to any pattern of words used in Greek or Roman tradition to call guests to table73.

However, simple meal-bidding formulae with an initial “arise” using ἀνίστημι are visible in the LXX, where just a single individual is often addressed. These do not reflect family or social dining scenarios, and like Acts 10, several, although not all, are uttered by divine or angelic voices74. Other than the case in Genesis, four of these are in the Elijah narrative in 1 Kings, with two-fold patterns in 19:5 Ἀνάστηθι καὶ φάγε and 19:7 Ἀνάστα φάγε, and three-fold patterns in 18:41 Ἀνάβηθι καὶ φάγε καὶ πίε and 21:7 ἀνάστηθι φάγε … καὶ σαυτοῦ γενοῦ75. Two further examples come from LXX Daniel, the two-fold form in Dan 7:5 Ἀνάστηθι φάγε76, which like all the foregoing cases is also rendered by two imperatives77 and, finally, just one just involving an initial aorist participle, Bel 37 (OG), Ἀναστὰς φάγε78. All of these align with the one-to-one context of the Acts vision, but although the last case gets close, none offers a direct match for the distinctive and fuller structure seen in Acts 10:1379.

Given that formulae using ἀναστάς with following imperatives are otherwise widely attested in the LXX, it is striking that the exact form of the Acts invitation is seen just once in a meal invitation when Jacob deceptively bids his father eat in Gen 27:19 ἀναστὰς, κάθισον καὶ φάγε80. Additionally, if Genesis might seem a rather obscure place to look for such a match, as the earlier survey reveals, all but one of the three-fold formulae of this kind in the LXX, and indeed, all four of those matching the syntax exactly occur in Genesis—three of these within the Isaac–Jacob–Esau narrative81. The grammatical structure, lexis, rhythm and sound of Gen 27:19 could thus deliver more resonant “volume” for the Acts invitation than any of the examples above. However, is the difference in the second verb (θῦσον for κάθισον) not an insurmountable obstacle to such an identification?

There is ample evidence of a relatively fluid tradition of biblical quotation in the New Testament and cognate literature, where words may indeed be altered to deliver specific homiletic signals82. When it comes to allusion and other devices of “figuration”, deliberate difference is arguably even more fundamental. However, where such a stratagem is used, striking a balance between achieving a sufficient resonant volume for the base-text at the same time as ensuring that the reader will notice and decode the playful adaptation is necessary for the technique to work. Precisely this approach can be seen elsewhere among the numerous Septuagintal echoes in both Paul and Luke83. In the case of the Acts 10 invitation, the substitution of the unremarkable and strangely redundant κάθισον (sit down) by the very striking θῦσον (kill), would seem to achieve this perfectly, echoing the Genesis-based text but emphasising the surreal difference demanded by the vision.

At this point, as noted in the methodological discussion earlier, the plausibility of such a suggestion demands we press further questions about thematic fit and interpretability. In the following section, we therefore explore connections between the Jacob–Esau story and the motifs and wider apologetic concerns of the vision, including the Jew–gentile divide, the specific emphasis on food, particularly hunting and the preparation of game, and finally, traditions about Esau’s power over animals.

3. Themes and Motifs

3.1. The Esau–Jacob Story and the Jew–Gentile Divide

The Esau–Jacob story is among the most important in biblical reception84 and became a singularly long-lived and adaptable metaphor for the tensions between Jews and their “proximate others”. While Jacob literally becomes “Israel”, at least in name, Esau passes through a sequence of different identities from era to era85.

In the Pentateuch, Esau is associated with the land of Edom, the traditional home of his descendants via marriages to Canaanite women86. After obstructing the Israelites during their Exodus journey87, Edomites are implicated in ongoing conflict through to the post-exilic period88. After various displacements89, by Hellenistic times, “Edom” came to refer to Idumea, a region further north that overlapped with southern Judaea90. Insecurity along this frontier91 led to subjugation by Hyrcanus I92, who assimilated its citizens to Jewish norms, possibly via “forced” circumcision93, eventually allowing some of its elites to enter the Hasmonean administration, including the ancestors of Herod94.

Although the regime may have emphasised Jewish–Edomite (Idumean) kinship95 and perhaps even promoted a vision of re-unification96, Esau sadly continued to function as an ever-worsening stereotype, a figure of violence, folly and greed97, and later of sexual immorality, idolatry and all the classic markers of the gentile world98. Although once a proximate and Semitic “other”, sometime after the Bar Kokhba revolt, Esau/Edom finally became a symbol of Rome99, both “temple destroyers” and both symbolised by the pig100. Since this association post-dates the New Testament, there is no need to feel that an Esau allusion is prompted by the involvement of a Roman centurion. That Cornelius is a gentile is reason enough for his use as a foil in this passage, where he is lauded for his “righteousness”101. The Esau allusion, if there, is used to subvert the Jewish identity of Peter.

One possible objection at this point, however, is the lack of explicit Esau references in Luke–Acts and the New Testament more widely102, where Jacob’s ill-fated brother is apparently mentioned only in passing for his non-election in Paul103 and his wicked apostasy in Hebrews104. However, knowledge of a story does not always mean a host of explicit references105, and Esau’s frequent appearance in Second Temple literature makes awareness on Luke’s part relatively certain106. A Jacob–Esau resonance is often discerned in the story of the two sons in Luke 15, with an ageing father, questions about inheritance, the errant son’s sojourn in the gentile world and the resulting jealously107. The story could have easily come to mind again in the discussions of Acts 15, and James’ quotation of Amos 9:11–12 might conceal just such an allusion108. Looking forward to a Jewish restoration that would also draw gentiles to God109, it is not impossible that some of those present knew that the Hebrew read “that [the Israelites] may possess the remnant of Edom”110. While the LXX’s reading here may be accidental111, most see it as a deliberate or at least welcome change112, distancing the text from the idea of subjugation113. That the conference’s concern with circumcision might reflect ongoing questions left by the conquest of Idumea would fit this thought well114. If so, then Esau allusions would join other more visible ties between chapters 10 and 15 in bracketing the central section of Acts115.

For Peter to be reminded of the fateful division that had dogged the whole of Israel’s history would help the vision create its special anxiety116, not least through Peter’s evident worry about deception, a feature not only of the original story, but one hanging over all Jew–gentile relationships thereafter117. Having outlined the broad fit of a Jacob–Esau allusion to the Acts 10–15 context, we now turn to the specific food-related imagery involved118.

3.2. Hunting, Jewish Food and Wild Game

The food–anxiety dynamic of the Petrine vision touches upon two distinct issues, the grosser and more obvious question of non-permitted food, raised by the immediate alarm about anything κοινὸν καὶ ἀκάθαρτον in Acts 10:14, and the subtler, but for Jews, equally problematic issue of the means of slaughter, implied via the allusion to Ezek 4:14119. It is intriguing that both of these are at least implicitly involved in the Jacob–Esau story.

At the simplest level, a comprehensive array of species120 and an indiscriminate choice121 are key drivers of Peter’s horrified reaction, born of a context in which “all the food of creation” has become synonymous with gentile food122. Although an open choice might reflect a theoretical freedom of the primordial age123, early anxieties about the patriarchal diet mean Genesis already retrojects kashrut into the pre-Jewish context124. Nervous on Isaac’s behalf, almost all later Jewish commentators assume that, however much Esau might represent the gentile world, he must surely have secured a clean animal and slaughtered it correctly125. Only once, in Tg. Ps.–J. Gen 27:31 do we see the full horror of Esau serving up a stray dog126. Peter’s anxiety about anything κοινὸν καὶ ἀκάθαρτον would at least want to rule out a scenario of this kind.

Of course, a general concern about permitted and non-permitted food could easily have been represented by a dream about being invited to a feast given by a gentile127. However, this is not the presented scene. The menu is not simply universal; when the unknown voice ominously substitutes “kill” for “recline” in its invitation, Peter is reminded that his meal is still alive, not only raising the second dimension of “slaughter anxiety” noted above but pressing a very specific connection to the Jacob–Esau story, the only meal featuring this problem in the Hebrew Bible. Although Peter’s animals are lowered to the earth in a σκεῦος, this vague term would not suggest anything as restrictive as a cage128, so once grounded, at least moderate effort to secure a kill would seem likely. That some sort of hunt has to occur evokes not only the image of Esau as hunter par excellence but of a classic sense of difference between Jews and gentiles, of arguably growing relevance in the Hellenistic and Roman periods.

For Greeks and Romans alike, hunting, or κυνηγεσία, constituted a major cultural activity129. Practiced by all classes for the provision of food130, it was also pursued as a sport by elite males, helping to develop skill, courage and teamwork as part of their paideia131. From the Jewish side, there was a far cooler attitude. While Philo acknowledges the skills involved and the benefits for military service132, he is uncomfortable with animals serving only for target practice133. This was given a very pointed focus by the Roman spectacle of the staged hunt or venatio134, soon depicted on the walls of public buildings, elite homes and even tombs in and around Palestine135.

Besides these moral difficulties136, Jews had halakhic problems with hunting, particularly the manner of an animal’s death. Thus, although slaughter for food outside of temple or ritual contexts was permitted via Deut 12:15–22137, the requirement to pour the blood onto the ground remained. Although Lev 17:13 imagines this might be possible when hunting, in practice, it could only be realised by a clean cut administered on a live but restrained animal, since killing by javelin or arrow in the open field risked the animal dying before this could be done138. Additionally, given the restrictions on prey torn by other animals, alluded to in Acts 10 via Ezek 4:14139, hunting with dogs was doubly impossible140. For these reasons, Jewish “hunting” had to be carried out by non-injurious trapping or capture followed by traditional slaughter141; but even here, without cultic personnel on hand, complications could still arise142.

The fact that uncertainty about the means of slaughter in the Esau story almost threatens to eclipse the more basic but often easier challenge of identifying the species arguably reflects the real balance of anxieties for urban Jews in the Roman empire, faced with problems surrounding the provenance of meat143. That the Petrine vision struck chords with Jewish Christians in the Diaspora, certainly among the earliest readers of Acts, would make strong contextual sense of the curious balance of visible motifs and subtler allusions marshalled by the text.

This finally raises the question as to whether Jewish tradition might not also explain a feature of the Acts 10 story that at first sight does not fit with the Genesis account, namely the presentation of a pre-gathered selection of animals. For this, we can only make a tentative suggestion based on later sources, but one that adds further intrigue.

3.3. All the Animals of the World

An image that may have informed this aspect of the vision, and one explicitly connected to Esau, is found in Genesis Rabbah, the fifth-century Amoraic Midrash. While this will require appropriate caution144, there is evidence that some material in such works does go back to earlier periods, as suggested by scattered alignments with Second Temple literature, the New Testament and the earlier church fathers145.

This concerns the garments of Esau which Gen 27:15 says were put on Jacob by Rebekah as part of the ploy to deceive Isaac. While the biblical text says no more about these, in later Jewish literature, they are imagined to be the covering of, we assume, animal skin(s) originally given to Adam in the garden of Eden, passed on through the eldest sons and conveying special rights and powers146. At this point, two different understandings appear. In the first, the garments confer priesthood upon the wearer147 and curiously become “glorious” robes148, an idea that has attracted great interest via its angelomorphic and eschatological associations149. In the second, less well-known tradition, but of far more significance for this reconstruction, the garments are still clearly made of animal skin150 and are firmly linked to hunting, where Gen. Rab. 63.13 notes that “whenever [Esau] put them on and went out into the field, all the beasts and birds in the world would … flock around him”151. Although notionally passed down from Adam, these magical garments were coveted by the great hunter-warriors and most recently stolen by Esau from Nimrod, thus taking their place in a narrative of violence152.

Although mentioned in regard to Esau for the first time here, the “animal master” motif is genuinely old and was almost certainly linked to the figure of Nimrod and his “mighty hunter” epithet via the Mesopotamian hunting deity, Ninurta153. Indeed, numerous Neo-Assyrian inscriptions acknowledge the god’s role in granting hunting prowess in very similar terms, as for instance, Tiglath-Pileser I, who records “by the command of … Ninurta … I have brought down every kind of wild beast and winged bird of the heavens”154, a boast with political overtones known to biblical writers155. It is thus highly likely that this motif passed into Jewish tradition in relation to Nimrod and was naturally linked to Esau thereafter. The role of the Adamic garments in conferring this power and its relationship to internal questions of succession would seem to be a specifically Jewish adaptation156.

In terms of the polemical and indeed apologetic issues involved, one might see in the development of two garment traditions an implicit contrast between rival understandings of universal rule, one via Judaism’s “priestly role” in the world and the other via straightforward gentile conquest157. However, this contrast is not drawn directly in Genesis Rabbah. Rather, like Acts 10, it keeps its focus, for the moment at least, firmly on the food, which in its very restrictive kosher form is surely not fitted to be “world food”158. It becomes intriguing to note that within this section of the midrash, we see a second meal, a Jewish rival to Esau’s offering that nevertheless claims its own kind of universality, the “counterfeit” game prepared by Jacob from home-reared kids. When Esau learns of this deception, he asks his father how he failed to notice its presumably inferior taste159. Isaac replies he has no idea what it was but that it “tasted … of bread, meat, fish, locusts and all the delicacies in the world”160. While certainly a rebuttal of gentile criticisms that Jewish food was meagre and restrictive161, the miraculous array of flavours is used in an earlier midrash and possibly even the LXX to describe the taste of manna162, pressing an earlier currency not only for this “universal food” motif but conceivably the one about the power behind Esau’s food, too163. For our purposes, we simply observe that both meals attract opposing glosses, pitting two visions of universalism against each other and thus adding to the tension between the two brothers and the peoples they represent.

Returning to Esau’s garments and their special powers, we must simply conclude that if these ideas were present in some manner in earlier Jewish tradition, then it is possible that the animal imagery of Acts 10 was not a purely Lukan creation. That Jacob dons these particular garments as he seeks to “play the huntsman” and trick his brother out of his birthright would add to the dark, reversing overtones of the Petrine vision.

4. Re-Reading the Text

Even on a cursory inspection, Acts 10 shows how the fear of food-law transgression operates within a wider and intensified halakha of the Jewish-gentile divide that prevents social contact and denies divine favour to outsiders (Acts 10:20, 28, 34–35)164. I have argued elsewhere that the enigmatic utterances of the anonymous voice and Peter’s evident perplexity are key markers of an anxiety dream, intended to precipitate reflection more than present a simple command165.

We now ask how a Jacob–Esau allusion might deepen and complexify the vision’s affective impact. As noted at various points above, the meal invitation echoes the words of Jacob at the very moment where he attempts to deceive his aged and now blind father by pretending to be Esau. Although clothed in his magical garments, he does not avail himself of their powers but resorts to further deception. Jacob offers a meal, which, although entirely kosher and which did not involve hunting at all, he presents as if it were made from “gentile” game, vainly hoping his father will neither notice how quickly he managed to produce it166, nor indeed be able to tell that it lacked the distinctive taste of Esau’s superior fare167. In this sense, the allusion darkly reverses the classical scenario of Jewish food anxiety.

As the one invited to eat, Peter is primarily put in the position of Isaac, equally vulnerable, similarly unable to see who is talking to him and thus anxious about the identity and intent of the speaker. Peter’s repeated refusal may remind the reader of Isaac’s three-fold but lamer protestations168 which are eventually swept aside by a solemn assurance169 and the smell of Esau’s garments170. Additionally, whereas Isaac finally accepted his voice’s assurances but discovered that it was lying all along, Peter now resists his, only for it to turn out to have been pressing the truth. This perfectly articulates the double bind of the dream, both in relation to “truth” and “deception”, but also echoing the “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” dilemma facing early Jewish Christians in respect of association with gentiles in the Church. A particularly dark irony is of course that the deceiving voice that “God” adopts for the dread invitation is not that of the traditional villain, Esau, but that of the Jewish deceiver, Jacob, thus indicating that the ultimate danger comes not from without, but from within Jewish experience.

Finally, unlike his Genesis counterpart, Peter is not permitted to end up as a passive victim of this deception but is forced to grasp an animal and “put the knife in” himself, thus fully owning the fateful action. In the nightmarish conclusion, Peter is thus pressed by a “Jewish” voice into killing and eating like a gentile; with a “proper” kosher meal still delayed in preparation below171, he is bidden to eat from an array of beasts gathered together for him by “God” who plays devil’s advocate at every turn.

This alarming, multi-faceted and “reversing” prosopopoeia not only undermines the core narrative of election but does so by highlighting the sense of hypocrisy involved in traditional stratagems of Jewish identity assertion. Thus, we have noted how Peter’s sense of lifelong obedience is pitted against the divine embrace of Amos’ “others” as the Acts 15 conference lays aside the “subjugation of Edom” in favour of a new universalism172. The vision, however, remains intensely personal, pressing the dark notes of covetousness, deception and distrust seen in the story of the brothers, where the trickster seizes the birthright by force, dressed hypocritically in the “clothes of Esau”. Finally, as one deceptive meal echoes another, and the spectre of non-permitted, bloody and torn flesh terrifies the would-be diner, the Genesis intertext remains relentlessly entangled with Jewish and indeed Jewish–Christian anxieties about food173. While scholars rightly avoid the suggestion of Lukan knowledge of Pauline material, it is nevertheless intriguing that the Antioch incident in Galatians 2 involves both an accusation of hypocrisy and the “weaponization” of meals.

5. Conclusions

In this paper, I have suggested that a hitherto well known but assumedly Lukan meal-bidding formula in fact conceals an allusion to the fateful invitation made to Isaac in the Jacob–Esau story in Genesis 27. The case for this was developed through an extensive lexical study revealing a grammatical match to the Genesis occurrence but with the ominous change of just one word, from κάθισον (recline) to θῦσον (“kill”). It was then shown how a link to this story could make sense in broader thematic terms, where Jacob and Esau not only constituted a very widely attested articulation of the Jew–gentile divide but also retained a very pertinent connection to food and Jewish sensitivities about hunting, a classically “gentile” activity with overtones of imperial ambition.

If the closing suggestion about the legendary power of Adam’s garments is also accepted, the grasping Jacob becomes implicated in a distinctively “gentile” power play. The resulting sense of conflict, moral ambiguity and the evident confusion of the vulnerable Isaac, whose persona Peter is invited to assume, all contribute to the destabilisation the vision seeks to achieve.