In a recent email, one reader asked about the two fish depicted in the Megiddo mosaics, and wondered whether there may be any connection to astrology and pisces. I thought I’d take this opportunity to discuss some examples of sea-creatures in Greco-Roman art and to post a few photos (or links to photos) to illustrate (when else might I have the opportunity to use photos of fish?).

It is very true that there are other mosaics in which two fish are depicted in a similar manner in reference to pisces, but in the context of other signs of the zodiac. See, for instance, the two fish depicted alongside other signs of the zodiac in a third-century mosaic now in the Bardo Museum in Tunisia (also described here), or the two fish in the mosaic from a synagogue at Hammat Tiberias in the Galilee (another photo here; fourth-fifth century CE). The latter is just one among the examples of the zodiac in Jewish synagogue art (see, for instance, the description of the Sepphoris synagogue mosaic here).

Setting aside astrological symbols specifically, fish and other sea creatures were also common within Greco-Roman (“pagan”) art in other ways. Here I have posted a few photos I took in the British museum. Some are focussed on the fish themselves, as in the early second-century mosaic with a lobster and fish from Papalonia, near Rome (above). Other mosaics depict actual hunting and fishing scenes, as in the third century mosaic from North Africa (right). In still other cases fish are depicted in scenes of abundant food, as in the first or second century mosaic from Carthage, likely from a dining-room (triclinium), which depicts a basket of fish alongside a basket of fruit (see below).

Quite well known, of course, is the fact that early Christians attached special significance to the symbol of the fish, which may directly relate to the Christian mosaics which have been uncovered at Megiddo. There are numerous stories involving fish in the gospels, with the most obvious being Jesus’ multiplication of the fish and loaves to feed thousands. The disciples, some of whom were literally fishermen, are characterized as fishers of people in the gospels as well. Gradually, the fish also became associated with other specifically Christian rituals, including the thanksgiving meal (eucharist) and baptism. Tertullian, for instance, speaks of Christians as fish following the chief fish (ΙΧΘΥΣ) Jesus Christ in connection with baptism: “But we, being little fishes, as Jesus Christ is our great Fish, begin our life in the water, and only while we abide in the water are we safe and sound” (On Baptism 1; trans by Ernest Evans, online here). Tertullian may here be alluding to the fact that the Greek word for “fish”, ΙΧΘΥΣ, was used by some Christians as an acrostic for “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour”, with each letter representing part of this name / title (cf. Sibylline Oracles 8:217-250). Fish commonly appear in Christian funerary art of the third and following centuries, sometimes alongside other symbols which were given a Christian meaning, including the anchor. This Christian understanding of the symbol may be primary in the Megiddo case (if no other zodiacal symbols are found). Yet it is worth mentioning the possibility that the (non-Christian?) artist hired to create the mosaic may well have had in his mind the model of pisces as commonly depicted in other mosaics.

For further discussion of fish in Greco-Roman, Jewish, and Christian art, see Erwin R. Goodenough’s Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period and Graydon Snyder’s Ante Pacem: Archaeological Evidence of Church Life Before Constantine.

History Carnival edition 21 is now up over at CLEWS: The Historic True Crime Blog (by Laura James). This interesting blog, which I discovered only now, focusses on the history of crime and criminals. In browsing through some of Laura James’ other posts, I could not yet find any ancient criminals discussed, but do check out fascinating posts like The Very Nutty Professor (poisoned chocolate–now that is one professor you don’t want on your bad side).

In earlier posts, I have discussed the new find of Christian mosaic inscriptions in the yard of the Megiddo prison. There is now further information regarding the discovery in an article titled “A latter-day Gog and Magog?” in Haaretz.com (thanks to Jim Davila for the tip, who found out on Archeologica News).

The story in Haaretz points to tensions that are developing between the Israel Antiquities Authority (IAA), who quite clearly want to fully excavate and preserve the find, and the Israel Prison Service (IPS), who are concerned to continue building projects to house prisoners. There are several other comments made in the article, some of which correct earlier generalizations and some of which need qualification (which I highlight here):

“The images and writing on the floor, and the pottery and ceramics found adjacent to it, lead us to the conclusion that we uncovered a floor of a public structure that served ritual purposes,” Yotam Tefer [head of the archeological team, also transliterated Tepper in other articles] says. “We are not entirely sure that we can call this a church, because we have never uncovered a church in Israel that was built before the year 325 and we simply do not know how churches built here at that time looked.”

The year 325 is when Christianity was declared the official religion in the Roman Empire. Until then, the Christians in Palestine, as in the rest of the empire, were compelled to carry out the rituals of their religion in secret.

Further on in the article a similar statement regarding “secrecy” is made:

IAA officials explain that the fact that the inscription mentions a “table” and not an “altar” indicates that it was written when Christianity operated “underground” and conducted its rituals around simple tables rather than altars, as was customary thereafter.

These latter statements regarding secretive or underground activities are somewhat misleading if applied generally to Christians in the Roman empire. It was only in specific periods of persecution by the Roman state in 250 CE (under emperor Decius) and then from 303-305 CE (under emperor Diocletian) that Christians were actively sought by the Roman authorities. In general, there was no need for Christians to engage in their activities “in secret”, though they were not fully “public” either. Though they were disliked (and locally persecuted from time to time by fellow-inhabitants) for their failure to honour the gods of the Greeks and Romans, Christian groups, like many pagan groups or associations, lived their lives largely unbothered by Roman authorities unless they were involved in larger civic unrest or riots.

The article also expands on the description of the find:

There are four pictures and three Greek inscriptions on the floor discovered at Megiddo. Based on these findings, IAA archaeologists assume that these are the remains of a church that dates back before the year 325. Prof. Leah Di Segni, an expert on ancient inscriptions from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, who deciphered and translated the texts found at Megiddo, supports their assumption, but also stated that a more precise dating could only be done after additional remains are uncovered.

Additional artifacts are apparently buried under the stratum where the floor was found. Di Segni has determined that the formulation of the inscriptions and the form of their letters testify to the fact that they were written prior to the declaration of Christianity as a legitimate religion in the Roman Empire.

Meanwhile, the IAA has decided to transfer the mosaic to its laboratories to conduct vital maintenance and preservation work, but they made a point of emphasizing that this was only a temporary move and that the floor would be returned to its original spot after this work is completed. . . The decision concerning whether to turn the Megiddo area into an international tourist site or to keep the prison there will ultimately be made by the government.

Since it first came to light in a manuscript at Mar Saba in 1958, the Secret Gospel of Mark — contained within what claimed to be a letter from Clement of Alexandria to one Theodore (c. 200 CE) — has been the centre of controversy (online text and discussion here or here). The letter addresses the claims of a “gnostic” sect called the Carpocratians, who were interpreting and supplementing a version of the Gospel of Mark, supposedly to support their particular sexual practices (supposedly involving homosexuality of some sort). Clement writes to Theodore to assure him that the approach of the Carpocratians was a distortion of both the original version of Mark and a subsequent, special edition Mark designed to reveal the deeper teachings (Clement uses the analogy of the Greco-Roman mysteries, including hierophant, to describe this mystic second edition by the original author of Mark). Clement speaks negatively only of the Carpocratians’ misuse or misinterpretation or interpolation of this second, mystic or secret edition of Mark, not against the second edition itself. Clement then cites passages from this Secret Mark, including the following most famous one:

‘For example, after “And they were in the road going up to Jerusalem” and what follows, until “After three days he shall arise”, the secret Gospel brings the following material word for word: “And they come into Bethany. And a certain woman whose brother had died was there. And, coming, she prostrated herself before Jesus and says to him, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me.’ But the disciples rebuked her. And Jesus, being angered, went off with her into the garden where the tomb was, and straightway a great cry was heard from the tomb. And going near, Jesus rolled away the stone from the door of the tomb. And straightaway, going in where the youth was, he stretched forth his hand and raised him, seizing his hand. But the youth, looking upon him, loved him and began to beseech him that he might be with him. And going out of the tomb, they came into the house of the youth, for he was rich. And after six days Jesus told him what to do, and in the evening the youth comes to him, wearing a linen cloth over his naked body. And he remained with him that night, for Jesus taught him the mystery of the Kingdom of God. And thence, arising, he returned to the other side of the Jordan.” After these words follows the text, “And James and John come to him”, and all that section. But “naked man with naked man,” and the other things about which you wrote, are not found.’ (trans. by Morton Smith, cited in full online here.

At the recent SBL meeting, I picked up Stephen Carlson’s book The Gospel Hoax: Morton Smith’s Invention of Secret Mark (Waco: Baylor UP, 2005) which, appropriate to its subject, is an exciting read. Carlson argues that the Secret Mark “discovered” by Morton Smith was, in fact, a hoax perpetrated by Smith himself (many have suggested this but no one had really offered substantial evidence to support the charge). Carlson argues that the manuscript itself (in terms of the handwriting) reflects a modern production, that there are clear signs of modernity in the letter of Clement as a whole, and that there are also clear anachronisms in the quotation from Secret Mark within the letter. Moreover, Carlson claims that Smith had the “means, motives, and opportunity” to falsify this letter from Clement, and there is substantial evidence that he did. Not only that, but the letter contains a “triple confession” by the hoaxer himself, including the reference to Madiotes (“swindler” or “baldy”), “Clement’s” discussion of salt (which, Carlson claims, alludes to a modern company called Morton Salt Company), and references to Morton Smith’s own scholarly works (relating to Mark 4:11 and sexual prohibitions in rabbinic sources). (Carlson appropriately distinguishes between a modern “hoax” and a modern “forgery” which involve quite different motives. Also see the earlier discussion on whether “forgery” is an appropriate term in studying pseudonymous writings in antiquity, where I emphasize the problem in identifying motives).

Moreover, if you were already inclined to view Secret Mark as a hoax, the book will likely strongly confirm your view. If you were undecided on which way to go (as I was) or were inclining to authenticity, then you may feel that further nuance and clarification is needed for Carlson’s theory to be accepted. In other words, this may not yet be the smoking gun.

I do not plan to engage all of the material in the book, which would probably take more time than it took to write the book itself (Carlson does a thorough job of looking at, and connecting, details!). But what I thought I would do here is point to what I consider Carlson’s strongest evidence pointing towards the probability of this letter of Clement being a fake, and to what I consider the relative shortcomings in presentation (if the aim is to settle this question in scholarship). In my opinion, the strongest evidence Carlson presents relates to his analysis of the handwriting (pp. 25-35), which he suggests is characteristic of a fake (with shaky lines, blunt ends, and pen lifts). Carlson does detailed work, looking at specific Greek characters and pointing to what he sees as clear signs of a fake. He then compares the handwriting in the “Clement” letter to another manuscript identified (by Smith himself) as 20th century and attributed to one Madiotes (an allusion to the hoaxer himself [Smith], according to Carlson).

This handwriting section would have been far more convincing, however, if Carlson had also had the handwriting analyzed (and reported on these analyses) by several other experts without telling them what precisely Carlson was after (in other words, without telling them what the writing was, or why he wanted it analyzed, beyond the characteristics that such experts would naturally report on in terms of idiosyncracies ). My impression was that the expert handwriting analysis was done by Carlson himself. It’s not that I distrust Carlson’s skill in analyzing (not in the least!); it’s just that I (and many other readers) have little or no expertise in order to assess each of Carlson’s specific decisions in the handwriting analysis, as well as the overall conclusions regarding how these characteristics can be explained in an overall pattern (e.g. whether some other explanation, such as a shaky hand of the 18th century monk or “scribe”, can account for certain features, and which ones). Further opinions would assist in this process of assessment by the reader. This accessibility to other handwriting opinions is even more pressing since Carlson was already heavily invested in an argument against authenticity when he engaged in the handwriting analysis. As I read, I did not often see many signs that he was likely to challenge or nuance any of his own conclusions on each specific handwriting feature, and in how they fit together into a pattern. I wondered whether another expert might provide other judgements or possibilities in some of the key cases, and in assessing the overall picture, and it would have been helpful if Carlson had engaged such interpretive issues.

Moreover, the other evidence Carlson presents does indeed fit with a theory of a fake or forgery or hoax, but can also be read in other ways as well (some of Carlson’s connections and interpretations are quite speculative, including the supposed identification of anachronisms, which are indefinite or in the eye of the beholder in many cases). I was also uncertain whether the ingenious “intricate three-level textual puzzle” (p. 79) was indicative of Smith’s genius in hoaxing (as suggested by Carlson) or Carlson’s genius in analyzing and making detailed connections.

I was hoping that the book would put the whole debate to rest, as some of the promotional materials (and some earlier talk on discussion lists) suggested. (I should also stress that I have yet to read right through the most extensive work which argues for authenticity, Scott Brown’s Mark’s Other Gospel: Rethinking Morton Smith’s Controversial Discovery [Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurier U. Press, 2005]). I have always hestitated from making historical use of Secret Mark because of the ambiguity surrounding it, and was hoping for some resolution. This is not yet the smoking gun, but perhaps Carlson will supplement his book with further evidence, primarily relating to the handwriting analysis. As I said, Carlson’s book is a fun read, and he has clearly done very solid work in preparing it, dealing with very specific clues that others have not focussed on or put together in this precise, intriguing way. And he certainly knows how to present an argument in a lively way!

(This post should not be considered a full, academic book review, but rather some spontaneous comments on specific issues in the book).

UPDATE:
Now see Stephen Carlson’s post in which he provides the comments of one professional forensic document expert on Carlson’s analysis of the letter of “Clement” (I’m sure that such experts are EXPENSIVE, so my ideal outlined above may be unaffordable anyways–I don’t mean to ask for the impossible). I should also clarify that I never doubted the competence of Carlson’s handwriting analysis; rather, I wonder whether some other handwriting experts (who are also competent) might argue things differently if not already predisposed to a hoax or forgery theory for this particular document (differences of opinion, rather than differences of ability). It seems that this hired expert was very much aware of Carlson’s attempt to prove the document a fake, however, which is not ideal . As well, I still wonder about the “elderly or ill writers” exception that even this expert mentioned in passing as an explanation for at least some of the anomalies in the “Clement” letter (elderly and/or ill monks were not scarce, I would suggest). But there may well be some of the handwriting characteristics which cannot be explained by the elderly monk theory (especially if the 20th century “Madiotes” handwriting does indeed match up with the “Clement” handwriting, as Carlson argues). It was nice of Stephen to provide at least that additional professional opinion (which he had already had done) in response to my wonderings. (By the way, in response to Stephen’s other comment, I would in no way like to suggest that Morton Smith was less than brilliant as a scholar. He was certainly human though).

FURTHER UPDATE: For those of you who have not yet heard, I believe a future issue of the Expository Times will include interactive reviews and responses between Stephen Carlson and Scott Brown. A review of Carlson’s book (by Paul Foster) has already appeared there (subscription required).

(Jan. 2): Now see my newer post on Scott Brown’s review of Carlson’s book (in Expository Times).

UPDATE April 15, 2010: Further to some of my comments back in 2005, Scott Brown and Allan Pantuck have now written a rather damaging critique of Stephen Carlson’s work on the handwriting analysis.  Thanks to both Tony Burke and to Allan Pantuck himself for pointing me to that post on Timo Paananen’s Salainan evankelista blog.

Since so many other bloggers are covering the Society of Biblical Literature conference (see the reports and links by Mark Goodacre, Jim Davila, Torrey Seland, and Stephen Carlson), I will say little. The session on meals in the Greco-Roman world, in which I presented my paper on transgressive meals, was quite enjoyable. And I managed to get to some early Christian Apocrypha papers, including one (timely) paper on the Gospel of Philip, which I will return to shortly (coincidentally we are reading the Gospel of Philip for next week’s class). I arrived late for the biblioblogging session but found it interesting, and it was nice to put faces to the names.

I also picked up some books, including Stephen Carlson’s The Gospel Hoax: Morton Smith’s Invention of Secret Mark, which is certainly an exciting read. I will likely comment on what I think soon. Is this really the smoking gun?

When scholars of early Judaism and Christianity identify a writing as an “apocalypse” (in terms of genre), they usually have in mind a first-person visionary report that claims to narrate a “revelation” (apocalypsis) from God himself. Almost always the content of the visions that are narrated also presuppose or directly pertain to an apocalyptic worldview, namely, an ideology in which this present world is dominated by evil forces (headed by Satan, or Beliar, or what have you) which will ultimately and imminently be destroyed (or perpetually punished) in the final intervention of God and his angelic forces (there is a thoroughgoing dualism in this way of thinking).

One of the two main types of apocalyptic writing that have been identified is the so-called “historical apocalypse”. Here the focus of the visions relates to the unfolding of God’s historical plans (on this, see John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination, which is browsable online here). The Book of Daniel in the Hebrew Bible (written about 160s BCE) and John’s Apocalypse or Revelation (written about 70-90 CE) in the New Testament are largely characterized by this historical focus: both relate the unfolding of God’s plan for history in relation to actual political powers (Hellenistic kings and Roman emperors, respectively), and these political powers are cast in the role of the ultimate evil opponents of God (on John’s Apocalypse see my earlier post on Worshiping the Beast / Honouring the Emperor or my article here).

The second main type of apocalypse is the “otherworldly journey”. Here the visionary is taken on a tour of the far reaches of the world and beyond, usually a tour of either the heavens or the underworld (hell). The earliest surviving example of this type is the first book (chs. 1-36) of 1 Enoch (online here) written about 200 BCE, in which the Enoch of Genesis is presented as the visionary who expounds the story of the fallen angels (Gen 6) and is guided by an angel in order to witness the workings of the universe.

In its present Christian form, the Ascension of Isaiah (reflecting materials ranging from the second century BCE to as late as the fourth century CE; online here) consists of the story of the prophet Isaiah’s martyrdom (who is sawn in half) and a report of Isaiah’s vision in which Isaiah is taken on a journey through the seven heavens with an angel as guide (chs. 1-5 and 6-11 respectively). The martyrdom and the vision are linked in their present form, since it is because Isaiah had gone on the tour, witnessing God’s plan to send his Beloved (Christ) to destroy the evil powers, that Beliar (Satan) seeks to have Isaiah killed (through the evil angel Sammael and king Mannaseh) (3:13).

Isaiah’s otherworldly journey begins as he ascends with the angel-guide to “the firmament” above the world, but below the heavens. Isaiah then proceeds through each of the seven heavens. In each heaven he witnesses a throne flanked by angels, and the glory of each heaven and its angels increases until he reaches the final, seventh heaven, the dwelling place of the Most High (God) and his “Beloved” (Lord Christ). There, says Isaiah,

“I saw all the righteous from Adam. And I saw there the holy Abel and all the righteous. And there I saw Enoch and all who were with him, stripped of the garment of the flesh, and I saw them in their higher garments, and they were like the angels who stand there in great glory” (Ascension of Isaiah 9:7-9; trans. by Müller in Schneemelcher)

Isaiah then gains a revelation of what will occur in the future, final intervention of God (the end times). Ascending and descending are important not only for Isaiah here, but also for other key figures in the apocalyptic visions. Isaiah hears the voice of the Most High himself calling on his Beloved (Lord Christ) to descend, to trace the steps that Isaiah had just traversed, in other words:

“Go and descend through all the heavens; descend to the firmament and to that world, even to the angel in the realm of the dead (on the descent to hell see my other posts on Satan) . . . that you may judge and destroy the prince and his angels and the gods of this world and the world which is ruled by them, for they have denied me and said ‘We alone are, and there is none beside us’. And afterwards you will ascend from the angels of death to your place, and you will not be transformed in each heaven [i.e. you will not be affected by the inferiority of each heaven in relation to the seventh heaven], but in glory you will ascend and sit on my right hand. And the princes and powers of this world will worship you” (Ascension of Isaiah 10.7-14).

Almost immediately, Isaiah then witnesses the descent and ascent of the Beloved (Christ). But there is more of this ascending and descending. Earlier in this writing we learn that, as part of the “consummation” of the world, an anti-Beloved (so to speak), Beliar himself, will be sent before the Beloved comes:

“And after it has come to its consummation, Beliar, the great prince, the king of this world who has ruled it since it came into being, shall descend; he will come down from his firmament in the form of a man, a lawless king, a slayer of his mother, who . . . will persecute the plant which the Twelve Apostles of the Beloved have planted; and one of the twelve will be delivered into his hand. . . All that he desires he will do in the world; he will act and speak in the name of the Beloved and say ‘I am God and before me there has been none else’. And all the people in the world will believe in him, and will sacrifice to him and serve him saying, ‘This is God and beside him there is none other’ . . . And after (one thousand) three hundred and thirty-two days the Lord will come with his angels and with the hosts of the saints from the seventh heaven with the glory of the seventh heaven, and will drag Beliar with his hosts into Gehenna” (4:1-14).

In a manner reminiscent of John’s Apocalypse (esp. ch. 13), the author is here presenting an end-time evil figure in the form of an actual king and, more specifically, a king modelled on a returning emperor Nero (Nero redivivus) who is worshipped as a god (alluding to the Roman imperial cult, on which go here for a brief discussion or here for an entire article). It is important to remember that the line between “otherworldly journey” apocalypses and “historical” apocalypses is by no means stark (as with the fluidity of genre as a whole), and there are some apocalypses with the characteristics of each, of course.

The ascending and descending theme is an important component in this apocalyptic author’s worldview, and the apocalyptic seer’s own guided tour gives him a first-hand experience of otherworldly travel himself.

UPDATE (Dec. 15): Now also see Alan S. Bandy’s collection of various scholarly definitions of the apocalyptic genre.

Jean Véronis now has a discussion (in both French and English) on the “sacred names” of the Megiddo mosaic inscriptions at his blog, “Technologies du Langage”: Ecriture: La Nomina Sacra sous la prison.

Over at “Tigerlily”, the most recent edition of History Carnival (XX) has been posted.

In a previous post, I have discussed the (“gnostic”) mythology surrounding the figure of Sophia (Wisdom personified) as developed in some of the Nag Hammadi writings. My discussion of Sophia’s mistake in connection with the document called The Sophia of Jesus Christ placed this mythology within the framework of Middle Platonic philosophy and discussed the manner in which Sophia, as a divine being (aeon), was responsible for the mistake that led to the creation of the inferior material realm, our world as we know it.

The second-century Apocryphon of John (or Secret Book of John, online here) presents a far more developed story of the emergence of the perfect spiritual realm and the abortive creation of the material realm. Here Sophia is once again instrumental in performing a massive blunder that leads to the creation of our physical world, but the story is extended in various ways, including a more developed reference to the fact that Sophia was repentant for the mistake and willing to do penance, so to speak.

In the Apocryphon of John, Sophia is once again among the many emanations from the original monad or perfect spirit, the Father. Sophia is also once again responsible, on her own (apart from her “consort”), for the emergence or emanation of the “ruler” (archon) or “world-creator” (demiurge), here called Ialdabaoth:

“Now the wisdom [Sophia] belonging to afterthought, which is an aeon, thought a thought derived from herself. . . She wanted to show forth within herself an image, without the spirit’s [will]; and her consort did not consent. . . And out of her was shown forth an imperfect product, that was different from her manner of appearance, for she had made it without her consort. And compared to the image of its mother it was misshapen, having a different form” (Apocryphon of John 9.25-10.7; trans. by Layton, The Gnostic Scriptures: A New Translation with Annotations and Introductions [New York: Doubleday, 1987]).

Ialdabaoth (also spelled Ialtabaoth or Aldabaoth), who is largely identified with the creator god of Genesis, then goes on to create other “rulers” (archons) like himself who assist in creating the material realm, including human beings (Adam and Eve). He is an ignorant god (ignorant of where he had come from and from where his power came), according to this author, a god who just loves to assert how he’s the one-and-only (playing on passages from the Hebrew Bible), when in fact he is not : “It is I who am god, and no other god exists apart from me” (11.21-22), or “For my part, I am a jealous god. And there is no other god apart from me” (13:8-12). (This author, like some other “gnostic” authors, expresses some clear anti-Jewish tendencies, at least in the rejection of the Jewish scriptures’ creator God as an ignorant god.) So the physical world comes into being as a result of acts of ignorance and a divine element is trapped within the physical bodies of human beings, an element that properly belongs in the spiritual realm of the Father.

The repentance of a pacing Sophia comes into the picture once she sees what has happened as a result of her independent action:

“when she saw the imperfection that had come to exist and the theft that her offspring had committed, she repented. And in the darkness of unacquaintance, forgetfullness came over her. And she began to be ashamed, moving back and forth. . . And the entreaty of her repentance was heard, and all the fullness lifted up praise on her behalf unto the invisible virgin spirit, and it consented. And while the holy spirit was consenting, the holy spirit poured over her something of the fullness of all. For her consort did not come to her (in person); rather, it came to her through the fullness in order to rectify her lack. And she was conveyed not to her own eternal realm but to a place higher than her offspring, so as to dwell in the ninth (heaven) until she rectified her lack” (13.21-14.12).

Sophia’s mistake, however massive in the view of this author, did not preclude rectification and a continuing important role as part of the perfect spiritual realm.

A paper I have written will be among those discussed in the Meals in the Greco-Roman World seminar at SBL on Saturday afternoon (Nov. 19). Since the papers will not be read at the conference, I have made a draft of the paper available online here (pdf). It deals with wild banquets, including those that involve accusations of human sacrifice and cannibalism, a topic I have touched on in earlier entries on ethnography on this blog. The paper explores ethnographic discourses as reflected in Greek and Roman novels as well as historical works, and places the discussion within the framework of actual associations’ meals as known from inscriptions. It also sheds light on the supposed Oedipean unions (incest) and Thyestean feasts (cannibalism) of the early Christians. If you will attend, you may wish to read the paper in advance.

S19-118 Meals in the Greco-Roman World
11/19/2005 (SATURDAY)
4:00 PM to 6:30 PM
Room: Washington A – Loews Hotel

Theme: Meals in Greco-Roman Associations

Dennis Smith, Phillips Theological Seminary, Presiding (5 min)

Richard Ascough, Queen’s Theological College
Eating with the Gods: Strengthening the Bonds of Community in Greco-Roman Associations (10 min)

Philip Harland, Concordia University
Culturally Transgressive Banquets in Reality and Imagination: Banqueting Values and the Associations (10 min)

Discussion (45 min)
Break (15 min)
Discussion (45 min)
Other (20 min)

Over on “Orac Knows”, there is an interesting post on The Art of Medicine in Ancient Egypt, including discussion (from the perspective of a modern surgeon) of some papyri involving skull injuries

There are now other more detailed stories emerging (along with some nice photos) in connection with the new find of Christian mosaic inscriptions in the Megiddo prison yard. Go to post no. 1 in this series and scroll down to the updates.

UPDATE: Also see the comments section of this post, where I address a reader’s questions regarding the so called nomina sacra (“sacred names”) abbreviations which do appear in one of the Megiddo inscriptions and which may have an impact on the question of dating.

Nov 16.: Jean Véronis now has a discussion (in French) on “sacred names”: Ecriture: La Nomina Sacra sous la prison.

View other posts in the late-medieval and reformations series.

There is a new blog, Maids, Wives and Mistresses: Early Modern Women, by Suzie Lipscomb, who is doing her doctorate at Oxford on women and the Reformations (especially regarding Protestants in France). The blog is “designed to explore issues of gender and religion in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.” One of her most recent posts deals with Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe.

Previously I have mentioned the History Carnival, which (twice a month) pulls together interesting posts on a variety of history related topics in various historical periods. Another regular carnival is Carnivalesque, which alternates between ancient / medieval and early modern topics in historical study. They often touch on the history of religions in the process. The most recent Carnivalesque (#10) is hosted by Sharon Howard (U. of Wales) at Early Modern Notes.

Troels has a post on a potentially fake bronze portrait of Nero.

As pointed out by both Jim Davila and David Meadows, there is a news release reporting that a building that may be an early Christian church has been discovered in excavations within the grounds of the modern Megiddo prison (see the brief articles at haaretz.com and reuters.com). The clearest claims of the story in haaretz.com are that three mosaic inscriptions have been found (one small photo appears in the article), which are described as follows:

The northern inscription mentions a Roman army officer who donated the money to build the floor. The eastern inscription commemorates four women, and the western inscription mentions a woman by the name of Ekeptos (sic), who ‘donated this table to the God Jesus Christ in commemoration.’ The mosaic also contains geometric patterns and a medallion with a fish design.” [We now know that the name is Akeptous, not Ekeptos, as in the photos and in the Washington Post article discussed below].

The story bills this as potentially the earliest church building ever found, but supplies little support for this suggestion. I will try to keep an eye on this story to see if more substantial and reliable information comes forth.

UPDATE (Nov. 7): One can never beat Jim Davila to the draw. See his discussion of another, far more restrained article in the Washington Post (which makes me glad about my natural hesitancy in the discussion above). The Post’s description of the inscriptions, which is based on comments of the archaeologist in charge of the excavation (Yotam Tepper), is as follows:

Tepper said the most important evidence comes from three inscriptions found in the mosaics. Along the edge of the largest mosaic, featuring at its center the early Christian symbol of two fish, an ancient Greek inscription, roughly translated, reads: ‘Gaianos, also called Porphyrio, centurion, our brother, having sought honor with his own money, has made this mosaic. Brouti has carried out the work.’ Tepper said the inscription refers to a Roman officer — many officers were early converts to Christianity — who financed the structure’s construction.

An inscription on a second mosaic, closer to the base of a pedestal whose use archaeologists have not determined, recalls by name four women from the community. Tepper said the third inscription is the most archaeologically valuable. It reads: ‘The God-loving Aketous (sic) has offered this table to the God Jesus Christ, as a memorial.’” [The name on the inscription is Akeptous, with a "p"].

FURTHER UPDATE (Nov. 8): National Geographic online now has three excellent pictures of the mosaics, available here.

Also go to the comments section of post no. 2 in this series for my answer to a reader’s question regarding the abbreviations for God and Jesus Christ (so called nomina sacra, or “sacred names”), which are used in at least one of the inscriptions mentioned above. The use of the abbreviated “sacred names” (with the horizontal line over the abbreviation) here suggests that the inscription likely dates to the fourth century or later (but the third century is not impossible).

FURTHER UPDATE (Nov. 10): Over at novumtestamentum.com, Brandon Wason has taken the time to transcribe the Greek of the Akeptous inscription, providing his own translation and some initial commentary.

Early Christians of all kinds unanimously agreed that one should follow Christ, but they varied considerably in how they understood or portrayed Christ (and how they defined following). Scholars use the term “Christology” to refer to a particular author’s (or group’s) spin on Jesus, particularly with respect to issues such as Jesus’ relation to humanity and to God. Thus, for instance, the Gospel of Mark is considered to have a low Christology in certain respects (relatively speaking) since it portrays a Jesus who experiences many human emotions or feelings (e.g. a Jesus who is tired [6:31], hungry [11:12], angry [3:5], and who is in wonder [6:6]). At the other canonical extreme is the gospel of John, which has a pre-existent Logos or Word (identified with Jesus) who was present and instrumental in creation (John 1:1-18), and a Jesus who sometimes claims oneness or even equality with God. One must remember that there was no clearly defined doctrine of the Trinity in the early centuries.

Among the more interesting Christologies in the apocryphal Acts is the Acts of John’s morphing (apparently metamorphosizing) Jesus. (I have posted earlier on this same writing; text online here, probably early third century). The Acts of John relates the adventures of the disciple John, who journeys through the cities of Asia Minor performing (God-powered) miracles, especially raising many people from the dead. Each resurrection leads to the conversion of others in the narrative, which seems to be an important point of the story.

The author’s understanding of Christ in these travel narratives (section A: chs. 18-86, 106-108, 110-115) is never explictly the focus, but it does clearly bubble up in references to Christ as the “physician” or healer par excellence (e.g. 22, 56) and in John’s prayers. This is a high Christology that is in some ways similar to the Gospel of John’s but which goes its own direction as well (some scholars call this “Christomonism”). In the prayers, Jesus Christ is presented as a very powerful being who is one and the same with the Father (chs. 77-79). So much so that the terminology for Jesus and God blend together into one in an emphatic way: “our God. . . Jesus Christ” (78), “God of ages, Jesus Christ” (82), “God Jesus Christ” (107), “God, Jesus Christ, Lord” (108).

In a section that may be considered a later addition (section B, chs. 87-93, 103-105) John has a flashback to the good old days when Christ was with the disciples. It is here that there is once again a high Christology, but one that goes beyond the travel section in some ways in presenting a Jesus who morphs and whose appearance can be deceiving, so to speak. John recollects that Jesus sometimes appeared to the disciples as a “child” or a “handsome, fair and cheerful-looking man”, and at others as a “bald-headed” man, a “small man with no good looks”, or an “old man” (88-93). On another occasion, John himself witnessed Jesus, without clothes, emanating light, and the nude Jesus was “not like a man at all”, namely, he was without the expected sexual organs. Remember that this and other Acts present the ideal pious life as the sexually ascetic life that denies the powers below-the-belt (29).

This same section culminates with a statement that would make it hard to follow “in Jesus footsteps”: Jesus has none.

“I [John] will tell you another glory, brothers; sometimes when I meant to touch him I encountered a material, solid body; but at other times again when I felt him, his substance was immaterial and incorporeal, and as if it did not exist at all. . And I often wished, as I walked with him, to see if his footprint appeared on the ground. . . and I never saw it” (93).

This rings of what scholars often call a “docetic” Christology, a high Christology which suggests that Jesus only “appeared” or “seemed” (Greek dokein) to be human when in fact he was not. The following hymn of Christ (section C, chs. 94-102), which has Christ singing and dancing with the disciples in a circle, goes even further in stressing that Christ never did suffer in a human manner on the wooden cross (this section likely has a separate origin and different Christology again, however).

For more on the Acts of John (and for the basis of the sections A, B, and C mentioned above) see: Pieter J. Lalleman, The Acts of John: A Two-Stage Initiation into Johannine Gnosticism (Studies on the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles 4; Leuven: Peeters, 1998). This book is available on Google Print for online browsing here.

View other posts in the late-medieval and reformations series.

Scholars use the term “magisterial reformation(s)” to refer to the mainline German and Swiss reformation movements under the leadership of Luther and Zwingli (or Calvin) respectively. The term is used because magistrates (the elite, princes, or ruling classes) were so instrumental in both cases, though in quite different ways. Politics had an extremely important role to play in these reformation movements.

Martin Luther’s well-known Appeal to the German Nobility (written 1520, online here) begins to illustrate just how important magistrates, princes, and other rulers were for the Lutheran reformation. In that writing, Luther appeals directly to the German aristocracy to assert their “temporal” authority over against the supposed authority of the “Romanists” (the papacy of the time and those that supported it). German magistrates were called on to apply their punishing role throughout the whole Christian body: “Forasmuch as the temporal power has been ordained by God for the punishment of the bad and the protection of the good, therefore we must let it do its duty throughout the whole Christian body, without respect of persons, whether it strikes popes, bishops, priests, monks, nuns, or whoever it may be” (trans by C. A. Buchheim, online here). There is a sense in which Luther’s appeal to magistrates, which continued well after this was written, was successful. Already the prince who had recently founded the University of Wittenberg (where Luther was a “star” professor), prince Frederick, was a strong supporter of Luther and was instrumental in saving Luther from being tried or burnt as a heretic by the papacy. Soon, many other magistrates likewise came to support the Lutheran reformation and made their territories officially Lutheran, over against other German princes and rulers whose territories remained Catholic. As a result, many actual wars were fought between these territories.

The situation with the Swiss reformation was quite different, but magistrates were heavily involved again. This time, it is city-magistrates that give the descriptor “magisterial” to this movement. The reformations led by Zwingli in Zurich and Calvin in Geneva were intimately tied in with the city-council, led by civic magistrates, and the city council continued to be the main force behind reformation movements in various other Swiss towns. The role of magistrates in both the Lutheran and Zwinglian movements contrasts strongly to the so-called “radicals” within these same areas who insisted that being a Christian and being a magistrate were by nature incompatible (more about these “radicals” later).