I just finished reading and writing up a review in The Journal of Theological Studies for a new book about the staurogram. I am not sure when my review will appear in print, and I won't reproduce the text of it here, but I thought that I would give a few more detailed highlights from this wonderful new monograph.
Dieter T. Roth, The Staurogram: Writing a Picture of the Crucified Christ (The Reception of Jesus in the First Three Centuries, 9. London, New York: T&T Clark, 2026).
This book is on the shorter side of scholarly monographs, at only 190 pages, the body of text only occupying the first 152 pages, and the bibliography and indices occupying the last 38 pages, and thus it makes for a surprisingly quick read. Don't let the brevity of this book fool you, it packs a significant punch in the amount of detailed information that it gives you. I don't want to provide a detailed, chapter by chapter overview, rather, I wanted to point out just one of the many insightful observations that Roth makes in the work.
In chapter 2 of the book, Roth surveys some famous graffito and gem carvings/inscriptions that bear depictions of crucifixion that closely resemble descriptions by Justin Martyr and Tertullian. I will only give two of the examples here.
First is the Puteoli Graffito, which likely dates from the second century, and portrays a crudely drawn figure on a cross (see this BAS article here, and this article here). Ἀλκίμιλα (Alkimila) is written on the top left side of the inscription, which is probably a female name (pp. 53-54).
The second is the Alexamenos Graffito, which has been dated to the third century (see previous post here). Sometime when Emperor Caligula's former palace was used as a school for training slaves, someone made a crude drawing, mocking the crucified God of someone named Alexamenos, depicting a crucified donley and someone standing before it (pp. 55-57). The inscription reads "Alexamenos worships [his] god" (Ἀλεξάμενος σέβετε θεόν).
A common feature of these very early depictions, argues Roth, is that they feature a crux commissa, a T-shaped cross. This was the shape of the cross described by those who lived in the pre-Constantinian period such as Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria (see this previous post here). This is different than the crux immissa, or Latin cross, which has the upper shaft that extends beyond the cross bar. This Latin cross became predominate after the Constantinian period (p. 119).
Roth has noted that in each of this early depictions of crucifixion, the profiled head of the crucified figure sits directly above the tau cross bar (pp. 112-113). The manner in which the staurogram is drawn in the early gospel papyri, for example, in P66 and P75, the loop of the rho (which represents the head of the crucified Christ) sits directly atop the T crossbar.
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| Staurogram in P75 at 1A.11r. [ https://digi.vatlib.it/view/MSS_Pap.Hanna.1(Mater.Verbi) ] |
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| Staurogram in P66 at John 19:18 (page 141) |
One can see that the staurogram in these papyri look very similar to the crude drawings above. Roth notes that this is in contrast to later staurograms where the rho sits higher above the crossbar, looking more like a crux immissa, a Latin cross, that was much more common after Constantine. For example, look at these fourth century examples of the staurogram.
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| Staurogram from the end of Isaiah in Codex Sinaiticus (Q46.f3r), fourth century |
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| Staurogram in the Jung Codex (Nag Hammadi Codex 1), fourth century |
Notice how each of these staurograms have the rho sitting above the crossbar, which looks closer to a Latin cross that became more prominent in the post-Constantinian period. Roth makes, at the very least, an interesting observation that the staurograms in the early gospel codices likely represent early, pre-Constantinian depictions of the cross. This is not a hard and fast dating rule but is definitely food for thought when considering the dating of P66 and P75.
