Biblical Criticism & History Forum - earlywritings.com

I must admit, my initial exchange with a particular forum member started off on the wrong foot. This individual, perhaps out of an unyielding rigidity, outright dismissed the possibility raised by Marcovich regarding the nomen sacrum ΙΣ as it appears in Justin Martyr's manuscripts. Marcovich, as many of us know, suggested something far more sophisticated than simply viewing ΙΣ as an abbreviation for 'Jesus.' He proposed that this abbreviation might have been an intentional and poetic allusion to the Hebrew אִישׁ (Ish), meaning 'man.'

Now, I wasn’t asking this forum participant to accept this idea without question. All I was suggesting was that he consider the possibility that Marcovich—a scholar of profound depth who had thoroughly immersed himself in Justin’s texts and the existing manuscript traditions—had perceived an intentional layer of meaning. Marcovich’s insight was that Justin was engaging with this abbreviation not merely as a label but as a symbol, invoking the Hebrew connotation of 'man.'

But instead of engaging with Marcovich’s nuanced interpretation, this individual bombarded the discussion with a host of counterarguments that were, in my view, disappointingly superficial. He failed to recognize the most elementary truth: that the Justinian manuscripts we possess today are fragmentary, corrupted, and a far cry from the originals. To act as if Marcovich was merely “tampering” with the text is to ignore the undeniable fact that these manuscripts have suffered through centuries of degradation. The simple reality is that what we have is not Justin’s pristine, unmediated writings. And the fact that other translators might have handled this differently does not invalidate Marcovich's insights—it merely underscores the complexity of the issue at hand.

This brings us to the heart of the matter: did Justin Martyr treat ΙΣ in the same way modern translators often do, by simply inserting "Jesus" wherever this abbreviation appears? Clearly, he did not. And it is precisely this hesitation, this deliberate ambiguity in Justin's handling of ΙΣ, that warrants our attention. What I wanted to highlight was the unexamined assumption that many interpreters make—that they can simply unravel this abbreviation as 'Jesus' without question. Yet, Justin himself appears to engage with it in a manner that is both poetic and symbolic, much in line with Marcovich’s observations.

Let us examine one such instance in Justin’s First Apology. The passage in question reads:

Υἱὸς δὲ θεοῦ, ὁ ΙΣ λεγόμενος, εἰ καὶ κοινῶς μόνον ἄνθρωπος, διὰ σοφίαν ἄξιος υἱὸς θεοῦ λέγεσθαι·

Here, the phrase "εἰ καὶ κοινῶς μόνον ἄνθρωπος" (“even if commonly regarded as merely a man”) doesn’t just appear as an afterthought—it is integral to the very fabric of Justin’s wordplay. Justin is clearly drawing on the ambiguity of ΙΣ, which, when seen through the lens of Marcovich’s suggestion, can be read as אִישׁ (Ish), 'man.' If this reading holds, then what Justin is really saying is, "The Son of God, called 'man,' even if commonly thought of as merely a man." This is not mere coincidence. It’s a deliberate rhetorical strategy, one that emphasizes the paradox of the Incarnation: that the Son of God, while appearing as an ordinary human being, transcends this identity through divine wisdom, making him rightfully 'worthy to be called the Son of God.'

Justin isn’t just using the abbreviation ΙΣ as shorthand for ‘Jesus’—he’s employing it as a tool for theological and linguistic exploration, merging Greek and Hebrew traditions to convey the mystery of the Incarnation. This is why Justin places "εἰ καὶ κοινῶς μόνον ἄνθρωπος" right after "ὁ ΙΣ λεγόμενος," drawing our attention to the intentional ambiguity, to the idea that the figure of Jesus is both 'man' and something far beyond that.

To bring this point home, Origen himself transcribed the Hebrew 'Ish' as ΙΣ in his correspondence with Julius Africanus. This demonstrates that early Christian writers weren’t strangers to the fluidity of these terms, and they certainly recognized the poetic potential that lay within them. Justin’s use of ΙΣ as both 'Jesus' and 'man' aligns perfectly with this tradition of interpretation.

Finally, let’s address my opponent’s treatment of Marcovich’s observations. It seems to me that he failed to appreciate that Marcovich’s comments were made within the broader context of discussing potential manuscript emendations. These weren’t presented as a fully fleshed-out theory but as preliminary notes, a kind of intellectual scaffolding that invites further exploration. If Marcovich were to construct his ideas into a systematic argument, there’s little doubt that this association of ΙΣ with אִישׁ would be central to his analysis. The reluctance to acknowledge the embryonic nature of Marcovich’s insight is, quite frankly, a glaring oversight. Marcovich understood that Justin’s use of ΙΣ wasn’t simply a matter of abbreviation—it was a sophisticated play on words, a deliberate engagement with the multi-layered identity of the figure we know as Jesus. And it's precisely this kind of depth that modern scholarship too often overlooks in its haste to find neat, tidy answers to questions that were never meant to be so easily resolved.

Some previous threads:

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viewtopic.php?p=107985#p107985

viewtopic.php?t=8807

viewtopic.php?t=8915

viewtopic.php?t=9124

viewtopic.php?t=9131

viewtopic.php?t=9160

viewtopic.php?t=9367

Thank you for this stimulating discussion.

I must confess, I find myself somewhat exasperated by my opponent's reaction, though I recognize that my own temperament is also to blame. Still, when one is testing out ideas in an intellectual forum, and a seemingly competent scholar dismisses these ideas outright, it's more than just a matter of "taste." It suggests, perhaps, that they see what we're proposing as fundamentally flawed or unworthy of serious consideration. Admittedly, I may be overly sensitive, but such is the nature of creativity. We experiment with how concepts sound, how they resonate, how they leave their mark upon the soul.

In this spirit, as I continue to sift through the text of Justin, I am not contending that every instance carries the same weight as the original example. Rather, I am exploring whether the subsequent usages of the term echo the earlier sense—whether some aspect of that former understanding persists in these later contexts.

Consider, then, the next appearance of ΙΣ in the First Apology:

καὶ ΙΣ Χριστὸς μόνος ἰδίως υἱὸς τῷ θεῷ γεγέννηται, λόγος αὐτοῦ ὑπάρχων καὶ πρωτότοκος καὶ δύναμις, καὶ τῇ βουλῇ αὐτοῦ γενόμενος ἄνθρωπος ταῦτα ἡμᾶς ἐδίδαξεν ἐπ' ἀλλαγῇ καὶ ἐπαναγωγῇ τοῦ ἀνθρωπείου γένους·

Let us examine this closely. Marcovich’s suggestion that ΙΣ could be read as אִישׁ (Ish) – "man" in Hebrew – adds a profound layer to the interpretation. If we accept that Justin was playing with this term, then the passage becomes much more than a mere recitation of Christological doctrine. The phrase, "ἸΣ Χριστὸς μόνος ἰδίως υἱὸς τῷ θεῷ γεγέννηται" (And Man the Christ alone has been begotten as the Son uniquely to God), when viewed through this lens, implies not just the birth of 'Jesus' but the 'birth of man'—the divine embodiment of 'man' in the singular sense.

Moreover, this play on words continues seamlessly into the latter half of the passage. Justin states that this ΙΣ, this divine 'man,' teaches us these things "ἐπ' ἀλλαγῇ καὶ ἐπαναγωγῇ τοῦ ἀνθρωπείου γένους" ("for the transformation and restoration of the human race"). Here, the connection between the singular "birth of ΙΣ" and the broader "birth of humanity" becomes undeniable. The 'birth' of this divine man is intrinsically linked to the rebirth, the renewal, the very transformation of mankind itself.

This connection is often lost on modern readers, especially when translations attempt to "de-masculinize" terms like ἄνθρωπος. Rendering the former as "man" and the latter as "humanity" disrupts the inherent wordplay and continuity in Justin's thought. The genius of Justin, as Marcovich intuited, lies in his ability to use this term (ΙΣ = אִישׁ) to construct a theological narrative that collapses the distinction between the singular and the collective—between the man Jesus and the entirety of the human race he came to redeem.

Thus, this passage is more than a simple affirmation of Jesus’ unique sonship; it becomes an elegant piece of theological wordplay, wherein the transformation of humanity is foreshadowed and embodied in the very nomenclature Justin employs for Christ. The implication here is that just as ΙΣ was born as the divine 'man,' so too is humanity destined for a rebirth, a metamorphosis through his teachings and example. The wordplay is deliberate, and it invites the reader to contemplate the mystery of how the 'man' became the 'Son of God,' so that mankind might, in turn, be elevated toward the divine. It is in this subtle interplay of terms that Justin's brilliance shines through, demonstrating once again how early Christian writers adeptly fused Greek and Hebrew traditions to convey profound truths.

I also added this evidence that there was pre-modern understanding about the Hebrew words for "the man" adding up to the same as "Yeshu," with reference to the Christian Jesus.

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I prefer to see interpretations like this attested outside the modern imagination, which has proven quite prolific and fecund, so I see it as supportive in principle even if its exact origins or date cannot be ascertained. From that perspective it is corroborative of the plausibility of the idea.

It also shouldn't be overlooked that Origen quoted this verse.

Peter Kirby wrote: ↑Wed Jan 19, 2022 1:51 am Origen quoted the same verse.

Secret Alias wrote: ↑Sun Jan 09, 2022 7:30 pm This is the line that changed my life. From Origen to Africanus.

Φασὶ δὲ οἱ Ἑβραῖοι «ἐσσὰ» μὲν καλεῖσθαι τὴν γυναῖκα· δηλοῦσθαι δὲ ἀπὸ τῆς λέξεως τὸ «ἔλαβον,» «Χῶς ἰσουὼθ ἐσσά,» ὅπερ ἑρμηνεύεται· «Ποτήριον σωτηρίου λήψομαι·» «ἴς» δὲ τὸν ἄνδρα, ὡς φανερὸν ἐκ τοῦ· «Ἐσρὴ ἀΐς,» ὅπερ ἐστί· «Μακάριος ἀνήρ.»

Now the Jews say that the woman was called Essa, and that taken is a translation of this word as is evident from chos isouoth essa, which means, I have taken the cup of salvation; and that is means man, as we see from Hesre aïs, which is, Blessed is the man. According to the Jews, then, is is man, and essa, woman, because she was taken out of her husband (is).

The next appearance of this enigmatic ΙΣ occurs in the very passage that catalyzed this entire discussion—namely, the one Marcovich wrestled with: τὸ δὲ Ἰησοῦς, ὄνομα τῇ Ἑβραΐδι φωνῇ, σωτὴρ τῇ Ἑλληνίδι διαλέκτῳ δηλοῖ. Marcovich, with his keen philological eye, sensed that something crucial had gone missing, precisely because something is missing. The passage, as it stands, translates to "The name 'Jesus' in the Hebrew tongue means 'Savior' in the Greek dialect." Now, I won’t belabor the point, but it's obvious why Marcovich felt compelled to intervene. There's an implicit gap, an unexplored depth, where the association between the Hebrew and Greek nomenclature should resonate more powerfully.

Rather than dig further into this beaten path, let’s instead revisit an earlier occurrence of ΙΣ, one that predates the passage I initially identified as the 'first.' I am referring to the following:

ταῦτα πάντα προεῖπε, φημί, ὁ ἡμέτερος διδάσκαλος καὶ τοῦ πατρὸς πάντων καὶ δεσπότου θεοῦ υἱὸς καὶ ἀπόστολος ὢν ΙΣ Χριστός, ἀφ' οὗ καὶ τὸ Χριστιανοὶ ἐπονομάζεσθαι ἐσχήκαμεν.

"All these things, I say, were foretold by our teacher, who, being both the Son and Apostle of the Father of all and Lord God, the Anointed Man (ΙΣ Χριστός), from whom we have received the name to be called Christians."

In this rendering, the emphasis falls on the idea that it is this "Anointed Man" who becomes the source and inspiration for the followers to be named after the act of anointing, embodying the concept that his anointing defines the identity of the community.

Traditionally, this passage is read in such a way that ΙΣ is 'unabbreviated' as 'Jesus,' and it’s assumed that even though this Jesus is of such holiness that his true identity is concealed behind an abbreviation, the religious movement that followed him naturally took the title 'Christianity,' derived from him as 'the Christ.'

However, as someone examining this from the outside, I've always been puzzled by a fundamental issue. If this movement were centered around an individual named Jesus, why wasn’t it called 'Jesusanity'? It’s as if Marxism were called 'Great-Writerism' or 'Great-Thinkerism'—it would be absurdly indirect, wouldn’t it? There’s a deliberate displacement at play here, and that displacement hinges upon the name itself. But that's a personal admission, and we should return to the text.

If, however, we entertain Marcovich’s hypothesis—that ΙΣ might originally have been interpreted as 'Man' (אִישׁ)—a different picture emerges. Suddenly, it makes sense that the religion wouldn't be called 'Jesusanity' but rather Christianity, or literally, 'The Anointing of the Man.' According to Marcovich’s reconstruction, what we've inherited as 'Jesus Christ' might well have been intended as אִישׁ מָשִׁיחַ—an 'Anointed Man.'

This isn’t some idle speculation; Justin himself, elsewhere, constructs phrases like 'crucified man,' so why not 'anointed man'? We mustn't forget that Justin was a Samaritan, and the Samaritans have always had an intriguing relationship with the concept of 'man.' For them, 'man' was more than a mere mortal; he was an archetype, the epitome of divine potential manifested in the flesh. Thus, for Justin, this 'Anointed Man,' the ΙΣ Χριστός, wasn’t just an abbreviation or a convenient nomenclature. It was a theological statement, deeply embedded in his worldview, which blurred the lines between the divine and the human, the anointed and the anointer.

By insisting on reading ΙΣ as אִישׁ, Justin was making a claim that transcended mere philology. He was positing that this Christ wasn’t just 'Jesus,' a man who was anointed, but the Man—the quintessential human—who bore the anointing, thereby transforming himself into the bridge between the mortal and the divine. The fact that the religion took the name 'Christianity' rather than 'Jesusanity' only underscores this shift. It’s not about the man named Jesus; it’s about the 'Man' who is anointed. In doing so, Justin deftly merges Hebrew concepts with Greek thought, crafting a theological identity that is simultaneously rooted in the traditions of Israel and expansively universal.

It’s in this light that we must reconsider our assumptions about Justin’s intentions. His play on words wasn’t simply a linguistic flourish; it was an invitation to rethink what it means for God to enter human history, not merely as a particular individual, but as the archetypal 'Anointed Man.'

I could keep going on, and I’m well aware that I won’t convince my opponent that this is how the manuscript should be read—fair enough, we’re all entitled to our interpretations. But surely, what I've just demonstrated, building upon the insights of a recognized authority in the field, can’t be dismissed out of hand. It’s a possibility, isn’t it? Isn’t that what academia is supposed to entertain—possibilities? The kind of ideas that those tepid, non-committal reviews always label as “worthy of further investigation.”

Look, I admit, I haven’t always been on my best behavior here, and for that, I take responsibility. But it’s disheartening when every alternative hypothesis is shut down, not because it’s unworkable or improbable, but because someone simply doesn’t like where such a line of inquiry might lead. It feels, at times, that the resistance isn’t rooted in the merits of the argument but in a discomfort with the implications. And no, this is not an excuse for my less-than-civil exchanges—I own that. But wouldn’t it be more productive, more intellectually honest, if, when confronted with something that challenges your sensibilities, we could set aside personal biases and at least entertain the thought that it might, just might, be worthy of deeper exploration? Instead of slamming the door shut the moment it makes us uncomfortable, consider that even uncomfortable ideas can yield truth. Isn’t that what we’re all here for?

Anyway, I hope that this can at least begin a serious consideration of the possibility that Justin, as a Samaritan, might have thought "Man" was a/the name of God.

Secret Alias wrote: ↑Thu Sep 26, 2024 10:07 am ταῦτα πάντα προεῖπε, φημί, ὁ ἡμέτερος διδάσκαλος καὶ τοῦ πατρὸς πάντων καὶ δεσπότου θεοῦ υἱὸς καὶ ἀπόστολος ὢν ΙΣ Χριστός, ἀφ' οὗ καὶ τὸ Χριστιανοὶ ἐπονομάζεσθαι ἐσχήκαμεν.

"All these things, I say, were foretold by our teacher, who, being both the Son and Apostle of the Father of all and Lord God, the Anointed Man (ΙΣ Χριστός), from whom we have received the name to be called Christians."

Tangent here but this could be punning with ΙΣ Χρηστος, 'the kind man':

Peter Kirby wrote: ↑Sat Feb 17, 2024 8:29 pm In a posthumously published essay ("What's in a name?"), J. L. Moles sets aside any concern about the potential usefulness of Chreestos-language in the New Testament for the project of demythologizers, graciously interpreting the texts as they would be heard, in the manner that would be most agreeable to those who heard it, given that this kind of word play was indeed commonly practiced. The essay introduces the felicitous term Chreestology here.

Our stem passage for that notion in the foreground is Ephesians 4.32. The authenticity of Ephesians is hotly disputed, probably a majority of scholars regarding it as ‘school of Paul’:

Be kind (χρηστοί) to one another, good-hearted, being gracious to one another, just as God ἐν Χριστῷ gave grace to you.

The notion that Christians should be chreestoi to one another is rooted in God’s grace as expressed ἐν Chreestoi. This also reminds us that Chreestianity is partly about the Chreestification—the being made Chreest-like—of Chreestians. This passage must also be read in the light of the preceding (Ephes. 2.4–10):

God, being rich in pity, because of his great love with which he loved us (5), even when we were corpses in our fallings by the wayside, made us live together with Christ (by grace you have been saved) (6) and raised us up with him [Christ] and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus (ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ), (7) so that he might demonstrate in the coming ages the overflowing riches of his grace in kindness (ἐν χρηστότητι) towards us in Christ Jesus (ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ). (8) For by grace you are saved through faith; and this is not from you, but it is the gift of God; (9) not from works, lest anyone should boast. (10) For we are His making, created in Christ Jesus (ἐν Χριστῷ Ἰησοῦ) for good (ἀγαθοῖς) works which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

ἐν Χρeeστῷ Ἰeeσοῦ sounds like a jingling refrain. The primary pun is on Chreestos/chreestotees in the sense of ‘benevolence’/‘kindness’, though there is also a pun on chreestos/ἀγαθός. Chreestos is a second creator and mediator, instrumental in implementing the chreestotees of God. The latter word translates God’s ‘goodness’ in the Septuagint. The punning Chreestos/chreestos, therefore, underpins three very large theological ideas: Christ as mediator between God and man; Christ as ‘kind’ to humans and himself ‘loyal’ to God (this emphasises the hierarchical chain of reciprocity between God, Jesus, and humans); and Chreestos as the incarnation of God’s goodness. That ‘Christos’ sounded the same as ‘Chrestos’, the Septuagint word for God as ‘good’, is accidental (unless, with the Church Fathers, one here sees divine providence): but the New Testament transforms this happy accident into deep Chreestology.

The Collected Papers of J. L. Moles, volume 1, p. 964

Which might tie into this theory:

Peter Kirby wrote: ↑Mon Feb 26, 2024 11:46 pm

mbuckley3 wrote: ↑Mon Feb 26, 2024 12:18 pm From this, it would be a reasonable inference that the writer styled his lord as Χρηστος.

This point does bring to mind my own pet theory here:

Peter Kirby wrote: ↑Thu Feb 22, 2024 8:43 pm My own pet theory here is that speculation regarding ὁ ἀγαθὸς and ὁ χρηστὸς developed as a result of a two powers in heaven perspective. God always was associated with ὁ ἀγαθὸς because it is the noble good, in and of itself, that is proper to divinity, by definition. God was ὁ ἀγαθὸς prior to creation, and the divine person of God the Father exemplifies this trait. The notion of ὁ χρηστὸς (kind) is active and speaks to God's relationship with man. Unlike simply being good (ὁ ἀγαθὸς), kindness involves an object of this kindness. The creative instrument of God, this second power in heaven - under various other terms also: his Word, his Wisdom, his Son, etc. - brings God into relationship with his creation. That gives this second, creative power a divine aspect of kindness, ὁ χρηστὸς.

Which is not to deny to Justin a knowledge and use of Messiah traditions about Jesus.

Also in 1 Apology:

δι' ἣν δ' αἰτίαν διὰ δυνάμεως τοῦ λόγου κατὰ τὴν τοῦ πατρὸς πάντων καὶ δεσπότου θεοῦ βουλὴν διὰ παρθένου ἄνθρωπος ἀπεκυήθη καὶ ΙΣ ἐπωνομάσθη (through a virgin brought forth as a man and was named 'Man'), καὶ σταυρωθεὶς ἀποθανὼν ἀνέστη καὶ ἀνελήλυθεν εἰς οὐρανόν, ἐκ τῶν διὰ τοσούτων εἰρημένων ὁ νουνεχὴς καταλαβεῖν δυνήσεται.

τὸν διδάσκαλόν τε τούτων γενόμενον ἡμῖν καὶ εἰς τοῦτο γεννηθέντα Ἰν Χριστόν, τὸν σταυρωθέντα ἐπὶ Ποντίου Πιλάτου, τοῦ γενομένου ἐν Ἰουδαίᾳ ἐπὶ χρόνοις Τιβερίου Καίσαρος ἐπιτρόπου, υἱὸν αὐτοῦ τοῦ ὄντως θεοῦ μα θόντες καὶ ἐν δευτέρᾳ χώρᾳ ἔχοντες, πνεῦμά τε προφητικὸν ἐν τρίτῃ τάξει ὅτι μετὰ λόγου τιμῶμεν ἀποδείξομεν.

"We have learned that the one who became the teacher of these things for us, and who for this purpose was born a man, the Christ who was crucified under Pontius Pilate, the governor of Judea during the time of Tiberius Caesar, is his Son, the true God. And we regard him in the second rank, with the prophetic spirit in the third, as we honor them with reason, which we will demonstrate."

The humanity of Christ is expressed in this saying from 1 Apology:

κρεῖττον δὲ πιστεύειν καὶ τὰ τῇ ἑαυτῶν φύσει καὶ ἀνθρώποις ἀδύνατα, ἢ ὁμοίως τοῖς ἄλλοις ἀπιστεῖν παρειλήφαμεν, ἐπειδὴ καὶ τὸν ἡμέτερον διδάσκαλον Ἰν Χριστὸν ἔγνωμεν εἰπόντα· Τὰ ἀδύνατα παρὰ ἀνθρώποις δυνατὰ παρὰ θεῷ.

"It is better to believe even in things that are impossible by their own nature and to humans, rather than to disbelieve like others do, since we have accepted and understood that our teacher, the man Christ, said: 'What is impossible with men is possible with God.'"

"And that the Word, which is the first offspring of God, was begotten without mixture, and that our teacher, the man Christ, was this Word, who was crucified, died, and rose again and ascended into heaven—we proclaim nothing different from those among you who speak of the sons of Zeus."

Read this: https://sites.bu.edu/koreandiaspora/fil ... f-Lyon.pdf

Another reason Marcovich presumes a missing Hebrew word in the manuscript lies in the usage of the τῇ Ἑβραΐδι φωνῇ formula seen just a little later in the text:

τὸ δὲ Ἀμὴν τῇ Ἑβραΐδι φωνῇ τὸ Γένοιτο σημαίνει (Justin, 1 Apology, 65.4).

"And the word 'Amen' in the Hebrew language means 'Let it be.'"

It's this same pattern that Marcovich sees repeated in the corrupted line of the Apology:

τὸ δὲ ΙΣ, ὄνομα τῇ Ἑβραΐδι φωνῇ, σωτὴρ τῇ Ἑλληνίδι διαλέκτῳ δηλοῖ.



Might it not have originally read:

τὸ δὲ ΙΣ τῇ Ἑβραΐδι φωνῇ τὸ ἄνθρωπος σημαίνει?

Is this reconstruction really implausible? Is it the product of mere "whimsy" or "wild speculation"? Hardly. The connection is far more deliberate, rooted in Justin's own statement in the 2nd Apology:

ΙΣ δὲ καὶ ἀνθρώπου καὶ σωτῆρος ὄνομα καὶ σημασίαν ἔχει. (2 Apology 6)

Let’s lay out the critical points:

1. Are Justin's manuscripts preserved in a pristine state? Absolutely not; they’re notoriously corrupt.
2. The sentence Marcovich amends is indeed corrupt, containing gaps that almost beg for this insertion.
3. Did ancient Greek writers employ ΙΣ to render the Hebrew word for 'man' (אִישׁ)? Indisputably, yes.
4. The correspondence between אמן and Ἀμὴν in 1 Apology 65 mirrors the parallel between אִישׁ and ΙΣ in the earlier chapter.
5. Structurally, the two sentences are nearly identical; the formula isn’t just similar—it’s an echo.
6. The parallel in 2 Apology 6 bears enough resemblance to the structure in 1 Apology to reasonably suggest that "ἄνθρωπος" might have been lost in transmission.

This isn't some fringe theory. Marcovich's emendation is rooted in solid linguistic parallels, textual patterns, and the very logic of Justin's rhetorical method. If anything, it's our reluctance to consider these possibilities that borders on the truly incredible.