Notes from the Joyologist: Who wrote Hebrews? I have a suspect.

By Nita Wilkinson

Faith Editor

Somewhere in the first century, someone sat down and wrote one of the most theologically rich books in the New Testament . . . and then forgot to sign it.

Two thousand years later, we’re still trying to figure out whodunit.

So, let’s list the suspects: Paul, Barnabas, Apollos, Luke, Clement, and even Priscilla.

For centuries, Paul was the favorite. But there are some problems with that theory. Paul identifies himself in his letters. Hebrews is anonymous. The Greek and writing style of Hebrews are also quite different from Paul’s typical writing. For me, Paul is out.

Barnabas makes an interesting candidate. He was a Levite, which would certainly fit with the author’s extensive knowledge of priests, sacrifices and worship. He was also part of Paul’s circle, and as early as around A.D. 200, Tertian attributed Hebrews to Barnabas.

Luke has been suggested because of the sophisticated Greek of Hebrews and his close association with Paul and Timothy.

Clement of Rome is another possibility. His writings show a familiarity with Hebrews, and his connection to Rome makes him interesting, although that familiarity may simply mean he knew and used Hebrews rather than wrote it.

Then there is Apollos.

Acts 18:24 describes Apollos as an Alexandrian Jew who was eloquent and “mighty in the Scriptures.” If you’re looking for someone capable of writing a book as sophisticated and saturated with Scripture as Hebrews, that’s a pretty impressive résumé. Martin Luther thought Apollos might have written it.

There’s just one little detail about Apollos that I find particularly interesting. Acts 18:26 tells us that when Apollos needed a more accurate understanding of the way of God, two people took him aside and taught him: Priscilla and Aquila.

Like all great whodunits, there are clues within the book itself, particularly in Hebrews 13.

The author knows Timothy and calls him “our brother” (Hebrews 13:23). Timothy has recently been “released” or “set free,” and the author hopes he will arrive soon. The author also plans to visit the recipients and may bring Timothy along.

We also learn that the recipients have established leaders within their church (Hebrews 13:17), and then comes another intriguing clue: “Those from Italy send you greetings” (Hebrews 13:24).

That doesn’t prove Hebrews was written to Christians in Rome, but Rome has long been considered a possible destination for the letter. Guess who we know had a house church in Rome? Priscilla and Aquila.

And no, the idea that Priscilla wrote Hebrews isn’t something I came up with during one of my trips down a Bible rabbit hole. In 1900, German theologian and church historian Adolf von Harnack proposed Priscilla as the author of Hebrews. He believed she fit important clues within the letter, including its connections to Paul, Timothy and Rome.

Harnack also offered a provocative explanation for one of the biggest mysteries surrounding Hebrews: Why is the author’s name missing?

If the author was Priscilla, Harnack theorized that her identity may have been suppressed because identifying a woman as the author could have made the letter more difficult for some churches to accept and circulate as attitudes toward women in positions of authority became more restrictive.

Can we prove that happened? No. But suddenly the anonymity isn’t necessarily a problem for the Priscilla theory. It might even be a clue.

The clues that first made me really wonder about Priscilla, though, are tucked into one of the best-known chapters of Hebrews, the Hall of Faith in chapter 11.

I began noticing how often women and their stories appear. Verse 11 includes Sarah alongside Abraham. Maybe that doesn’t mean anything by itself. But keep reading. When the author gets to Moses in verses 23–24, we don’t immediately meet the great leader standing before Pharaoh. We begin with the faith of those who hid a beautiful baby. Then Moses is described as refusing “to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter.”

It’s an interesting way to frame his story.

Then, when we reach the fall of Jericho in verses 29–31, Joshua isn’t named at all. Rahab is.

Again, none of this proves the author was a woman. But now, I am paying attention.

Then I read Ruth Hoppin’s Priscilla’s Letter: Finding the Author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, and went much farther down the rabbit hole. And friends, you know how I am about rabbit holes.

Hoppin offers a fascinating interpretation of some of the unnamed heroes described near the end of Hebrews 11. Verse 35 says, “Women received back their dead, raised to life again.” Hoppin connects this with two Old Testament women whose sons were restored to life: the widow of Zarephath, whose son Elijah raised in 1 Kings 17:8–24, and the Shunammite woman, whose son was restored through Elisha in 2 Kings 4:18–37.

Then things got even more interesting. Hoppin suggests another woman may be hiding among the unnamed heroes in the preceding verses: Judith.

Friends, I didn’t even know the book of Judith existed until I read Hoppin’s book. So, of course, I had to look it up.

Judith is included in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles, although it is not part of the Protestant Old Testament. Its story has some similarities to Esther: a courageous Jewish woman becomes instrumental in delivering her people from their enemy.

Hoppin connects Judith with the description in Hebrews 11:34 of those who “won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, and put foreign armies to flight.” In the story, Judith—a widow—prays for strength, enters the enemy camp and ultimately kills the Assyrian general Holofernes, helping deliver her people.

Does Hebrews 11:34 refer to Judith? We don’t know.

Does the prominence of women in Hebrews 11 prove a woman wrote Hebrews? No.

There is even a grammatical argument against a female author. In Hebrews 11:32, the author uses the Greek participle diēgoumenon, usually translated “to tell” or “recount,” in a grammatically masculine form. Some scholars have pointed to that as evidence that the author was a man.

Hoppin challenges that conclusion, arguing that the grammatical construction isn’t enough to establish the author’s sex. Like almost everything else surrounding the authorship of Hebrews, apparently even one Greek word can lead us down another rabbit hole.

But here is why I keep coming back to Priscilla. We know she was Jewish. We know she was part of Paul’s circle. We know she knew the early church intimately. She and Aquila had connections with Rome and Ephesus. Paul called them his “co-workers in Christ Jesus.” A church met in their home.We know Priscilla was capable of teaching theology because Acts tells us so.

Does any of that prove Priscilla wrote Hebrews?

No. But here’s the thing. We can’t prove Barnabas wrote it. We can’t prove Luke wrote it. We can’t prove Clement wrote it. And we can’t prove Apollos wrote it.

None of our suspects left fingerprints.

So if we’re willing to build circumstantial cases for all of them, I think Priscilla deserves a place on the suspect board too. Actually, I’ll go a little further. I think she wrote it.

It’s okay if, after all of this, you don’t. I won’t be offended if I haven’t convinced you. Because something funny happens almost every time I tell someone why I think Priscilla wrote Hebrews. They listen to my evidence, usually give me a slightly skeptical look, and then say something like, “I’m going home to read Hebrews.”

And isn’t getting people to read their Bible what it’s all about? ■