Tyler Williams has a fun posting on talking biblical dolls (yes, they’re real). Check it out here. Since Moses recites the ten commandments, Tyler also leads you to his very interesting discussion of the variant traditions in what exactly are the ten commandments.

Earlier I discussed the Simpsons episode “Left Below“, in which Homer becomes a “prophecy student” announcing the end and the impending rapture (official title: “Thank God It’s Doomsday”, originally aired May 8, 2005). There is a recent book, now reviewed in Review of Biblical Literature, that attempts to bridge the gap between scholarly and popular views of Revelation (dealing extensively with the notion of the Rapture). In essence, it tries to counterbalance what it sees as the dangers of the Left Behind series’ impact on some forms of modern Christianity and tries to infuse some historical background into the situation.

Scholarly debates continue regarding what genre (type) of literature were the apocryphal Acts, with the Greek novel often being considered a close relative of these Acts by most. Certainly both the apocryphal Acts, which relate the miraculous deeds of the followers of Jesus, and the novels share in common the aim of entertaining (alongside teaching and admonishing certain values or behaviours).

In the Acts of John, the disciple John is depicted on his journeys to demonstrate the power of God (dating sometime in the second or early third century; available online here). Among these demonstrations or signs are the repeated resurrections of various characters in the story, from bad guys like the priest of Artemis to good guys like the permanently sexually-abstinent Drusiana. Resurrection of the dead is John’s favourite miracle, so to speak. Just about everyone converts as a result of these miracles, including the aforementioned bad guys, so there is a purpose to it all.

One of the “miracles” of John that stands out, however, involves bed-bugs. While staying in an inn at Ephesus, John is trying to catch some wink-eye while other of his followers talk quietly in the background. The bed-bugs are driving John nuts, and so he commands, “I tell you, you bugs, to behave yourselves, one and all; you must leave your home for tonight and be quiet in one place and keep your distance from the servants of God!” (60).

That we, the readers, are meant to be entertained and to laugh is suggested by the fact that John’s followers do laugh, and think that John is just joking (he’s not really commanding bugs, is he?). To these followers’ surprise, they find a mass of bugs waiting just outside the door in the morning, and John says that since the bugs have behaved themselves, they can go back home to bed. But even in this humorous story there is a lesson. Be thou like the bed-bugs, who quietly listen and obey: “This creature listened to a man’s voice and kept to itself and was quiet and obedient; but we who hear the voice of God disobey his commandments and are irresponsible; how long will this go on?”, queries John (61). (All translations, again, are from Schneemelcher).

UPDATE: Once again Ken Penner is on top of things and, in the comments, points to a passage that involves commanding worms in the Testament of Job (of the OT Pseudepigrapha, translation available online here, Greek text here). Job is once again facing the torments which God allows Satan to send upon him, and he shows a particularly heightened ability to withstand and, in what you could call an ascetic spirit (or perhaps just an attempt to ensure that God’s will is done to its completion), even further the torture:

“In great trouble and distress I left the city, and I sat on a dung heap worm-ridden in body. Discharges from my body wet the ground with moisture. Many worms were in my body, and if a worm ever sprang off, I would take it up and return it to its original place, saying, ‘Stay in the same place where you were put until you are directed otherwise by your commander” (Testament of Job 20:7-9; trans by R.P. Spittler in Charlesworth, OTP).

This story is less funny than John’s;)

From the beginning, Christians and Jews have taken a variety of approaches to passages in scripture which they find difficult to interpret or troubling in some other way. One common approach taken by an adherent of a religion is to cite the passages the interpreter likes, and to ignore or at least avoid the passages the interpreter finds problematic. In a sense, it is not uncommon to develop a canon (authoritative writing) within the canon, so to speak.

Many among the highly educated in Roman times found descriptions of God which rang of human emotions and physical daily behaviour (anthropomorphic passages) particularly distasteful. This is due in part, to the influence of Platonic philosophy, which emphasized the transcendence of God (in contrast to the very anthropomorphic deities of the Greeks generally). In other words, God was as far away as possible from the imperfect world around us, including the emotions and daily behaviours of humans (the “passions”). For Jews and Christians who adopted similar notions, several passages in the Hebrew Bible became very problematic (any that had God showing human emotions such as anger, or God changing his mind, or God seemly not foreseeing all), and there were different strategies for solving the conundrum.

One interpretive technique was allegorizing. Namely, you read a passage and explained a deeper, almost hidden meaning beyond the literal (thereby avoiding the literal in many cases). Philo of Alexandria is most known for this approach, but he is certainly not the only one.

Another very interesting approach is taken by the Jewish-Christian author of the so-called Pseudo-Clementine writings, which purport to be the autobiography (so to speak) of Clement, the bishop that succeeded Peter at Rome (dating to the fourth century but reflecting earlier materials). Here “Clement” presents Peter in a debate with Simon Magus, both of whom make use of scripture to support their points. Simon points to passages in the bible which speak of “gods” plural and then goes on to expound the view that the creator god is in mind in those passages of the Bible which speak of that god’s “dubious passions” and inability to know exactly what is going on in a situation (H III 38:1-3). But, argues Simon (in a “gnostic” manner), there is indeed another god not mentioned in scripture who is transcendent, who “foresees the future and is perfect, without needs, good and free from all dubious passions” (38:3). Peter’s refutation of Simon is quite fascinating: “Those statements of the Holy Scriptures which are in keeping with the creation wrought by God must be counted as genuine and those which contradict them as false” (42:3). In essence, Peter’s approach here is to take away his opponent’s passages: “All these passages. . . are shown to be false and are overturned by others which assert the opposite” (43:3). Further on in the so-called “preachings of Peter” (Kerygmata Petrou) section, the author explains that it was in the process of the Law being written down and subsequently passed on and copied that “false pericopes” (false passages) were introduced. And the author considers among the false passages those which portray God acting much like a human in lying, being ignorant, grieving, mocking, and craving after offerings and sacrifices (H III 48-52; H II 43-44).

Saying that there are false passages that have been inserted into the bible is not an approach often taken within most of Christianity today (the canon within the canon is the favourite, so to speak), but it was among the options in antiquity. However, there may be affinities here with some moderns who do pick and choose what they consider true or false in the Bible, but they are usually not imagining interpolation conspiracy. More about the Pseudo-Clemetines later.

Thanks to David Meadows for noting a new journal devoted to the study of “Hellenic religion” (Journal of Hellenic Religion). This is not an academic journal but a journal produced by those who wish to promote and continue practicing the worship of the ancient Greek gods. If you are interested in the study of neo-paganism (new, modern paganism), then, this may be of interest to you. To use an analogy: You wouldn’t want to use Pat Robertson’s 700 club show as a source of information if you were doing a research paper on the New Testament or on ancient Christianity, but you would need to watch him if you were studying and doing a paper on a particular brand of modern American religion.

For those of you who are not familiar with neo-paganism, it takes a variety of forms such that the single term is misleading. It includes people today who are devoted to the worship of specific deities such as Demeter, for instance, and those who claim to practice ancient Druidism, as well as others such as the Wiccans and still others that combine little bit of each, so to speak. Belief.net has an article on modern polytheism here. IMPORTANT: This is a case where it is very important to distinguish between academically-minded and religiously-minded websites that deal with ancient religions. The ones just listed are religiously-minded, produced by those who practice their “pagan” religion in a modern form.

As you may know, you can read a number of articles dealing with the social and religious life of associations and guilds in the Roman empire by clicking on my full-text online articles (and scrolling down). But I thought I’d mention a few other articles on associations (collegia, thiasoi, synodoi, etc) that are also freely available online:

Our friendly neighbourhood Philo scholar has the following very interesting paper hosted on the Ioudaios site (which later appeared in revised form in the volume edited by John S. Kloppenborg and Stephen G. Wilson):
Torrey Seland, “Philo and the Clubs and Associations of Alexandria.”

The Hendrickson site has Richard S. Ascough’s general discussion (from an edited book) of “Greco-Roman Philosophic, Religious, and Voluntary Associations.”

Ascough’s book on What are they Saying about the Formation of the Pauline Churches, which also has introductory discussions on associations and on mysteries as a backdrop for Pauline groups, is available for browsing on GooglePrint

Ilias Arnaoutoglou, an expert on Greek law, has an article on whether or not there were strictly enforced laws regarding associations in Asia Minor (answering, as do I in my book [pp.161-176], in the negative):
Ilias N. Arnaoutoglou, “Roman Law and Collegia in Asia Minor,” Revue Internationale des droits de l’antiquité 49 (2002): 27-44.

As Jim Davila points out, there is an article in the new issue of the American Journal of Archaeology which argues on numismatic (coin) evidence that the Sardis synagogue dates to the sixth century, about two centuries later than commonly suggested (Jodi Magness, “The Date of the Sardis Synagogue in Light of the Numismatic Evidence,” AJA 109 [2005] 443-47). The mosaic floors in the Sardis synagogue, which is located within the larger Greco-Roman bath-gymnasium complex, had previously been dated to the mid-fourth century based on coins found beneath the intact mosaics of the synagogue floor (primarily during the excavations of the 1960s).

(The main hall of the Sardis synagogue, showing the mosaic floors [ by Phil]).

However, Magness carefully re-evaluates all published reports and descriptions and throws into doubt this evaluation of the numismatic (coin) evidence. She points out how there are indeed coins found under the mosaic floors that date considerably later, including coins from the fifth and sixth centuries under both the forecourt and main hall floors (some of which were perhaps too easily dismissed as “contamination” or explained away in other ways once the fourth century dating was the working hypothesis). If this is indeed a correct revision, then many books and articles on the Sardis synagogue will become obsolete, so to speak. Certainly my discussion of the synagogue on my website (here) will need to be substantially revised if this newer view is true. I am somewhat convinced by Magness’ argument, but will need time to digest this further before deciding whether the suggested sixth century date for the mosaic floors is more likely.
(Right: Photo of the synagogue forecourt at Sardis).

At this point it is worth saying that even if the mosaic floors are sixth century, this does not rule out the possibility that the Jews were making use of the structure before that final, major overhaul. In fact, this is precisely what has been argued by the excavators, including Andrew R. Seager, who suggested that the Jews acquired and used this section of the bath-gymnasium (in so called stage 3) before making the final renovation with the mosaic floors (in stage 4). It is the mid-fourth century date for stage 4 that Magness is challenging.

It is worth briefly placing this discussion within other recent re-evaluations of the dates of other diaspora synagogue buildings and Jewish monuments. On pushing dates back, I have previously discussed Monika Trümper’s recent article which suggests an even earlier date for the synagogue on Delos. On pushing dates forward, Angelos Chaniotis convincingly argues that the donation inscription from Aphrodisias, which includes references to god-fearers, should now be dated to the fourth or fifth centuries, not the second or third (see Angelos Chaniotis, “The Jews of Aphrodisias: New Evidence and Old Problems.” Scripta Classica Israelica 21 [2002] 209-42). It will be intriguing to watch the reaction to Magness’ article and its impact on the study of diaspora Judaism, since the Sardis synagogue is often cited in broader discussions of the relations of diaspora Jews to Greco-Roman culture in the imperial (not later Byzantine) period.

The notion that Jesus, after his death, descended into the realm of the dead in order to achieve some aim has a somewhat long and complicated history, of which I will only touch on some points. By the time 1 Peter is written (late first century), the author can refer to the fleshly death and spiritual resurrection of Jesus and to the fact that “he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah” (1Peter 3:18-20). The Gospel of Peter (perhaps 2nd century but maybe later) makes brief reference to a descent at the point of Jesus’ emergence from the tomb in having a voice from heaven ask Jesus, his two angelic escorts, and the walking cross, “Have you preached to them that sleep?” (10:41). The cross answers in the affirmative. The Apostles Creed of later centuries includes the descent into hell, without further clarification, among Jesus’ deeds.

Somewhat different than this preaching to the sinful people of Noah’s generation or to the sinful in hell is the very important story preserved in The Gospel of Nicodemus (aka Acts of Pilate) which reflects more detailed thinking and elaboration about this descent (available online here). In The Gospel of Nicodemus, three (Symeon and his two sons) of those who were raised from the grave (Sheol = Hades) testify to the Jewish council about what they witnessed.

According to this story, it is all of those who went to the grave (all of the dead, both good and bad) that were imprisoned under the rulership of Hades, god of the underworld. Jesus’ action in descending is what allows the righteous, including Adam, Seth, Abraham, David, Isaiah, John the Baptist, and others to make their way out of these chains and into paradise. In other words, without Jesus’ resurrection, the righteous would have remained in Hades (Sheol). In fact, when Jesus breaks through the gates of Hades, “all the dead who were bound were loosed from their chains” (21:3). In essence, the tree of knowledge brought death (through Adam), and the tree of the cross brought life (through Christ; 23-24).

Also fascinating in this gospel is the portrayal of the grave personified, namely Hades, and Satan as separate figures who debate what to do about this Jesus figure. Satan is nearly begging Hades to do something and take action against this Jesus, the “common enemy”. Hades is a bit concerned about about losing his sustenance of dead bodies, and remembers that “a certain dead man named Lazarus. . . [was] snatched . . . up forcibly from my entrails” (20:3). But, despite the stomache ache, in the end Hades turns out to be a little more realistic and rational about the (im)possibilities: “And if [Jesus] is of such power, are you able to withstand him? It seems to me that no one will be able to withstand such as he is” (20.2).

In an interesting convergence of my teaching preparations, John Calvin gave considerable attention to assessing what he thought was valuable or true in notions of Christ’s descent to hell. He clearly steers away from ideas that are also reflected in the Gospel of Nicodemus, but nonetheless sees Christ’s descent as an essential part of the story of salvation in “God’s Word” (it’s in 1 Peter and the Apostles’ Creed, after all). You can read this in section 8 of his Institutes of the Christian Religion online here.

For a couple of artistic depictions of Christ’s descent into hell, go here and here (and click on the images to enlarge).

One exercize that can be useful in introducing students to the academic study of the New Testament is to have them study independently the birth stories about Jesus in the gospel of Matthew and the gospel of Luke, and to consider each of these birth narratives within the continuing story of each gospel. For those familiar with the Christmas stories, these two narratives tend to blend together inseparably, as in the claymation version of the Little Drummer Boy which has both the shepherds (from Luke–at Jesus birth) and the three “wise men” (from Matthew–placed a couple years after the birth) in a stable at Jesus’ birth. (This is not to knock the show, which I’ve enjoyed since little, along with all the other claymation ones. I have to admit that the one with the Heat-miser tops my list, however).

In historically studying early Christian gospels (or Paul’s letters for that matter or any other ancient document), it is important not to blend everything together into one big lump, thereby losing the distinctive characteristics and aims of the individual narratives (stories) or writings (and the specific audiences involved).

This process of blending the originally independent birth narratives in Matthew and Luke began quite early, as attested in the Protevangelium of James, for instance (late second century CE; available online here). This writing in the New Testament Apocrypha expands on the origins of Jesus in the canonical gospels not by telling the childhood deeds of Jesus (as in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas in a previous post), but by going back further to the origins of Mary herself. This story of the miraculous birth of Mary to the infertile Anna and Joachim, followed by Mary’s Samuel-like dedication in the temple, came to heavily influence the cult of Mary in the middle ages, of course. It is also worth noting that Mary took her first steps at the early age of 6 months (6:1), according to this story (beats my little Nathaniel, who is always ahead according to my biased opinion).

But for present purposes what is especially noteworthy is the way in which the Protevangelium tells and considerably expands the story of Jesus’ birth. The author (supposedly James, the brother of Jesus from an earlier marriage) weaves together detailed threads from both Matthew and Luke in a way that creates a new story different from each. The author also considerably expands the story along the way, as when the priestly authorities of the temple have Mary and Joseph take a “truth serum” (“the water of the conviction of the Lord”) to see if they are lying about Mary’s virginity (15:1-2), or when the midwife double-checks Mary’s virginal status after birth (19:2).

Although such blending of stories might be expected in religious (church) and popular (TV) settings, it is important to take a different approach within the academic study of religion.

I have just been speaking about the ancient fascination with “marvels” (in connection with paradoxography), and there are plenty of these in Christian literature as well. One of the struggles faced by a modern reader in approaching ancient literature and religion is the cultural gap that exists between us and the ancients, in many respects. Thus, to modern ears, a cursing Jesus would be a less than favourable Jesus. But the fact is that a cursing Jesus WAS popular, at least in certain circles. It is difficult to know precisely why, however.

I am referring to the very popular Infancy Gospel of Thomas (in the sense of multiple manuscripts and multiple translations from Greek into Syriac, Latin, Georgian, and Slavonic). This story, which fills in the gaps in Matthew’s and Luke’s infancy stories, was most likely written in its original version in the second century CE. It is one among the writings that are called New Testament Apocrypha (or, quite literally, New Testament “Hidden Writings”) by scholars.

In this gospel, Jesus’ adventures from 5 to 12 years are related in an exciting and somewhat over-the-top manner. In essence, in a fashion typical of well-known and miraculous figures in antiquity, Jesus is portrayed in a way that “foreshadows” all that he is to accomplish as an adult (as recorded in the canonical Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, for instance).

But this foreshadowing of power includes the ability to knock you down dead. On several occasions in this gospel, the actions of the wee boy Jesus result in the death (or near death) of other characters in the story. A boy (son of a scribe, by the way) who messes up the pool of water that Jesus miraculously formed literally whithers up as a result and Jesus doesn’t hold back words in calling the boy an “insolent, godless dunderhead” (3:1-3). Those who suffer as a result of the cursing pretty well beg Joseph to teach Jesus to bless rather than to curse after the death of another boy (4:2). When a child runs through town and bumps into the Jesus, Jesus says, “‘You shall not go further on your way’, and the child immediately fell down and died” (trans from Schneelmelcher, ed., 1991-1992, full citation below). Jesus’ first teacher, Zacchaeus, is quite lucky in only being shamed by the high intelligence of the boy. His second teacher is “cursed” after striking the (what we might call) smart alec Jesus (who makes fun of his teacher’s lack of wisdom) and immediately the teacher falls down dead (14.1-2). Death is not the only negative result of Jesus’ curses, as, for example, those who oppose him are struck blind (5:1).

Thankfully (for modern sensibilities, at least) Jesus is also portrayed helping others, as when he raises a little boy from the dead after his fall from the roof while playing (9:1-3). Another young man is saved from bleeding to death after an axe accident by Jesus as well (10:1-2). And at least one of the guys he strikes dead (the teacher) is also raised from the dead when a subsequent teacher (a good friend of Jesus’ father) behaves in a pleasing manner in Jesus’ eyes (15.4). When a little sick child died in the neighbourhood, Jesus responds to the mother’s great mourning by raising him: “I say to you, do not die but live and be with your mother” (17:1). And this is not the only person Jesus raises from the dead (18:1)–premonitions of the Lazarus and resurrection story, so to speak.

For the author of the Infancy Gospel of Thomas (and presumably for his readers and hearers), both what we would call positive (blessing) and what we would call negative (cursing) activities of Jesus are equally indicative of the great powers he possessses and point to the need to worship him (cf. 9:3; 10:2). They are a sign of what is to come in Jesus’ adulthood.

This is the first in what will be numerous posts on the Apocrypha in connection with a graduate course I will be teaching in the Fall. All translations here and in the future, unless otherwise noted, are from: Wilhelm Schneemelcher, ed. New Testament Apocrypha. Translated by R.M. Wilson. 2 volumes. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1991-92. The Infancy Gospel of Thomas (not to be confused with the Coptic Gospel of Thomas or the Acts of Thomas) is also available online in various translations here. (Here I have been using the shorter Greek recension A as a basis for the discussion.)

For those of you who are new to the study of inscriptions, or epigraphy, Dr. Prof. Onno van Nijf (University of Groningen) provides a very good online intro with Introduction to Greek and Latin epigraphy: An absolute beginners’ guide. This will help you get your bearings.Van Nijf is also well-known for his study of occupational associations: The Civic World of Professional Associations in the Roman East. Dutch Monographs on Ancient History and Archaeology, vol. 17. Amsterdam: J.C. Gieben, 1997.

The Apollonios (second century BCE) mentioned in the previous post cites the work of an “historian” who reports the following “marvel” (avert your eyes, if you prefer, since it’s a little racy):

Phylarchos says in the eighth book of his historical treatise that in the Arabian Gulf there is a spring of water and if a man rubs his feet with it his genitals immediately become extremely erect. Some persons’ genitals do not contract again at all, whereas others’ do return to normal size but only after great suffering and treatment (Hansen, p. 6).

History can get a little “racy” at times.

Further to my earlier post on Greco-Roman paradoxography, there is another that I thought may be of interest. (See the earlier post two entries below). I talked about the second century author Phlegon. Another was Apollonios, who may have written in the second century BCE. One of his “marvels” (drawing on an author named Theopompos) comes across like a Twilight Zone episode:

It is said that Epimenides of Crete was sent by his father and uncles to their farm to bring a sheep back to town. When night overtook him he left the path and slept for fifty-seven years. . . In the meantime the members of Epimenides’s household died, and when he awoke from his sleep he looked for the sheep he had been sent to bring. . . he assumed that he had awoken on the same day on which he had fallen asleep–but he found that the farm was sold and the equipment was changed(Hansen, p. 6).

Now that’s a good long nap.

UPDATE: Ken Penner (McMaster U.) comments that there is an interesting parallel story in the OT Pseudepigrapha in 4 Baruch, chapter 5. There Abimelech, a contemporary of Jeremiah, gets tired while carrying figs, lies down for a nap, and doesn’t wake up for 66 years. He similarly is confused by all the changes when he returns to Jerusalem. In this case, God sent this “stupor” upon Abimelech so that he would not have to witness the Babylonian attack on Jerusalem and the exile of its people. After the 66 year nap, Abimelech wakes up and (with humorous effect) says, “I would like to nap a little longer, because my head is weighed down, but I’m afraid I might fall fast asleep and be late waking up” (trans. by S.E. Robinson in James H. Charlesworth, ed. The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. 2 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1983-85). The Greek text is available at the Online Critical Pseudepigrapha (OCP) site.

Previously I’ve commented on ancient descriptions of far away peoples and their customs (ethnography), which sometimes had a penchant for describing others in bizarre and often negative terms. (For a bibliography on ancient ethnography, go here). Somewhat related to ethnography with its attention to the “astonishing” practices of foreign peoples are the writings that catalogued various “wonders” or “marvels”, commonly called paradoxography by modern scholars. You might call these writings the Greco-Roman National Enquirer (tabloid).

Among these ancient Ripleys is Phlegon of Tralles (c. 117-138), whose Book of Marvels collects together a series of items that were considered astonishing or grotesque, including reports of ghost appearances, sex changes, monstrous or multiple births, and discoveries of giant bones. Among the unusual births reported by Phlegon, for instance, is one which involves an Egyptian deity: “The wife of Cornelius Gallicanus gave birth near Rome to a child having the head of Anubis” (23; trans. Hansen), namely, the head of a dog.

Among the sex-changes is the myth of Teiresias, who, it is said, changed from a man to a woman after injuring a snake that was mating. The god Apollo’s oracular advice was that Teiresias should once again injure the other snake while they were mating in order to change back into a man, which s/he succeeded in doing. The story goes that “Zeus and Hera had a quarrel, he claiming that in sexual intercourse the woman had a larger share of the pleasure than the man did, and she claiming the opposite” (4). Teiresis, of course, was brought in as the expert in this situation. When his answer was not in favour of Hera (women enjoyed 9/10ths of the pleasure while the men 1/10th), Teiresis’ eyes were gouged out, but Zeus at least gave him the gift of prophecy.

Less “sexist” and a little less unbelievable is Phlegon’s report of an Alexandrian “woman who gave birth to twenty children in the course of four deliveries. . . most of them were reared” (28).

See William Hansen’s Phlegon of Tralles’ Book of Marvels (Exeter: University of Exeter, 1996), which is the source of the translations used here.

UPDATE: Over on Rogueclassicism, David Meadows points to an online review of Hansen’s work which deals with the nature of paradoxography, as well as a website with some other excerpts from Phlegon.

I have been meaning to mention Troels Myrup Kristensen’s blog on early Christian iconoclasm (on which he is writing a doctoral thesis in the Department of Classical Archaeology at the University of Aarhus, Denmark). Many of his entries deal with important issues concerning the relation of Christianity to the religions of the Mediterranean world, and he draws heavily on archeological materials. Recently, he has posted an excellent photo of a detailed sarcophagus (now in the Museum at Arles) depicting biblical scenes, as well as a colour photo of a papyrus which relates to iconoclasm. He also discusses religion in late antique Corinth. Just now he raises issues concerning continuities in the transition from”pagan” to Christian. I think the idea of tracking a thesis in progress by way of a blog is an excellent idea. Check it out.

As I am reading in preparation for a course on Christianity in the late medieval and early modern periods, iconoclasm is on my mind (right now I can’t remember the lyrics to that song).

I was just looking at Paul R. Trebilco’s webpage at the University of Otago and had to share what I found. Trebilco is best know for his excellent work on Jewish Communities in Asia Minor (Cambridge University Press, 1991), and more recently he has written The Early Christians in Ephesus from Paul to Ignatius (Mohr-Siebeck 2004). Yet among his earlier refereed publications are:

Blunt, J.W., Hartshorn, M.P., Munro, M.H.G., Lee, T.S., Thompson, R.S., Trebilco, P.R., Vannort, R.W. and Vaughan, J. ‘Reactions of Propargyl Alcohols VI. Lithium Aluminium Hydride Reductions of 2,2-Dimethyl-3-phenylhex-4-yn-3-ol, its 1- methoxy-derivative and 2,2-Di-(meth-oxy-met-hyl)-3-phenylhex-4-yn-3-ol.’ Australian Journal of Chemistry 36 (1983): 581-591.

‘Paul and Silas, Servants of the Most High God – Acts 16:16-18.’ Journal for the Study of the New Testament 36 (1989): 51-73.

The transition from chemist to scholar of Christian origins took less than 6 years, apparently. Impressive!

Unofficial groups in the Greco-Roman world that I (and others) typically call “associations” used a variety of terms to describe themselves. Some of the favourite Greek terms were synodos (“synod”), koinon, synergasia (“guild”), thiasos (“cult-society”), and mystai (“initiates”). Today, when people (including many scholars) hear the term synagogue or head-of-the-synagogue (archisynagogos) they tend to assume some Jewish group (or building) is in mind. However, the term synagogue (stemming from the Greek synagō, meaning to gather or bring together) was also used by other “pagan” associations and was not necessarily a sign of Jewish connections.

Thus, for instance, one monument from Apamea in Bithynia (northern Asia Minor / Turkey), which involves a group of men and women devotees (thiasitai and thiastides) honouring a priestess of Cybele (the Great Mother), mentions that the inscription was set up in the “synagogue” of Zeus (IApamBith 35). Across the Propontis in Perinthos-Herakleia in Thracia, there was an occupationally-based “synagogue of oar (or small-ware) dealers” that shows no sign of Jewish connections (IPerinthos 59 [first or second century]). At both Beroia and Hagios Mamas in Macedonia there were associations (devoted to Poseidon and a hero-god respectively) whose main leader was known as the head-of-the-synagogue (archisynagogos) (IMakedD 747 [second century]; SEG 27 [1977] 267). And there are many other “pagan” cases where the chief leader of the group, as in some Jewish gatherings, was termed head-of-the-synagogue (e.g. NewDocs I 5; IG X.2 288-289; SEG 42 [1992] 625).

Diaspora Jewish groups (including Jesus-devotees) shared more in common with “run-of-the-mill” associations of the Greco-Roman world than often acknowledged, and their “gatherings” would have been viewed as such by outsiders in some important respects.

To read more about associations in the Greco-Roman world, as well as their relevance to early Judaism and Christianity, go here.

Epigraphists and ancient historians use the term “squeeze” not for a current girlfriend or boyfriend (as in 1950s movies), but for the result of wetting and placing a special thin piece of paper (filter paper) over the face of an inscription which is then rubbed with a squeeze brush. The result is an excellent impression of the texture of the stone, of other markings, and of the letters of the inscription itself. This, then, is an easier way of bringing inscriptions back with you to the office to carefully study the lettering and gaps in the lettering. It is an essential tool in publishing an edition of the inscription in question.There are several online sites which are presently placing photographs of squeezes on the web. A recent email from David Downs, a doctoral student at Princeton Theological Seminary, reminded me that the Center for Epigraphical and Palaeographical Studies at Ohio State University has a good (and expanding) collection of squeezes, particularly for inscriptions from Athens and from Macedonia.

Even more extensive are the collections made available by Oxford’s Centre for the Study of Ancient Documents. These imaging projects so far include inscriptions from the following regions:

• Athens and Attica
• Peloponnese
• Central Greece
• Aegean Islands
• Asia Minor
• Egypt and the Near East

As pointed out on the Stoa consortium, the well-established journal Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies is now freely available online (at least the current year). Let’s hope it stays free-access.

There are sometimes articles dealing with religions of the ancient Mediterranean in this journal, including the recent article by Velvet Yates on “The Titanic Origin of Humans: The Melian Nymphs and Zagreus” (link to pdf not working at the moment). Another article by Michael Carter, titled “Archiereis and Asiarchs: A Gladiatorial Perspective“, argues that the positions of the highpriests of the imperial cult are, in fact, one and the same with the positions of asiarchs in the province of Asia. D.R. Jordan’s article from 2000 which lists recently discovered curse tablets, or defixiones, is also available (“New Greek Curse Tablets (1985-2000)“.

Just got back from a very interesting paper on “The Return of Nero in Hellenistic Oracles” by Rollin Kearns (Ohio Wesleyan University). Kearns discussed how oracles concerning Nero, the fleeing Nero (the “haughty one”), and the notion of his return developed very early (even before the death of Nero). His survey of Sibylline Oracles (5.214-221, 4.117-124 and 137-139; 5.361-374) unpacked various dimensions of these expectations and linked them up with our historical knowledge of Nero’s activities, including his activity in building a canal at Corinth, which was often interpreted as an action against nature, for instance (“he smote the rock with hardened bronze. He will destroy and ravage your land”). Earlier in the day, the discussion in the Greco-Roman seminar on Harrill’s forthcoming book went very well (see the post before last for the topic). Look out for that book on slavery which is due to be released at November SBL, I believe.

Overall, this conference has been a good experience, and it was nice to see the character of conferences in Europe and to see the positive changes that the fall of communism has brought here.

I was lucky enough to be able to attend (as a guest) the current meeting of the Society for New Testament Studies (Studiorum Novi Testamenti Societas) here in Halle, Germany, and finally found a computer where I could say a few things about this conference. The atmosphere and style here is somewhat different than the SBL in many ways.

There are a number of main papers that everyone attends together, and then you choose a specific topical seminar to attend regularly for each of the three days. The advantage of the seminar style is that you get to know others in your area more fully over the days, and the discussions can progress over time as well. I chose the Greco-Roman world of the New Testament seminar, and discussions have been quite interesting thus far. Today we were discussing a paper which compared Paul’s use of boasting language (esp. kauchaomai) with Plutarch’s discussions of what methods of self-praise were appropriate or inappropriate. Tomorrow we will be focussing on Albert Harrill’s (Indiana University) forthcoming book on slavery and the New Testament. Harrill takes a new approach to the slaves represented in early Christian texts (including the martyrdom accounts) that places representations of slaves within the context of discourses of slavery and literary stereotypes of slavery in Greek and, especially, Roman sources (e.g. Roman Comedy). I’m looking forward to that discussion.

Apart from the seminar, there were two main papers yesterday. Richard Bauckham looked at John’s gospel in terms of its affinities with historiography, ancient history-writing (though not arguing that it is “historical”). Samuel Byrskog gave an interesting paper that employed theories of “social memory” in analyzing the gospel of Matthew.

I will finish with what is perhaps the most important difference between SBL and SNTS (at least this year): A steady flow of good German beer.